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Theodorable Member
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Lord Marek
"And now a new voice is added to the fray, the newcomer Duke Alaric Gyre." Lord Marek had remained unmoving, his posture rigid and stone like. "Atop this, Duke Gyre promises a great many things. Perhaps then--with three potential candidates--it would be prudent for each Lord, and Lady, to cast a vote."
Marek moved, one unsteady step at a time to the other side of the table, until a man wreathed in similar colored vestments approached with a rolled parchment. Marek took it carefully into his palms and returned to the head of the table. "This is the Parchment of the Chosen, and whomever among you becomes king, will have it bestowed upon you. It contains a great many secrets of the kingdom. Secrets that must follow you into your grave."
[In your next posts, please post your Vote in brackets at the end for Moderator's sake.]
[Lord Gerantius: 2 Votes]
[Duke Gyre: 2 Votes]
Lord Marek
"All excellent questions, yes. The state of affairs in the Southern Reaches is a tenuous one, but the Lady of Enea poses a strong inquiry herself as well," Marek mused, his weathered lips hanging parted. "The Dwarven thanes will come seeking to negotiate new trade routes, and the Elves too will depart their sylvan halls to seek counsel with our new lord. With whom would you parlay, or would you treat with them both equally, lords?"
The rain continued to patter outside. Servants roamed up and down the table refilling mugs and gauntlets, replacing half eaten plates with full plates. "It is wise to remember that our new Liege commands the respect of all his bannermen, lest their fiefs refuse a call to fealty. The Osterian Black Army however, is not the great force it once was."
The Ceremony of the Choosing
Lord Marek
While other Lords and the Lady of Enea chimed in, Marek nodded in turn. "Two great candidates have arisen, it seems. Perhaps each in turn might discuss the great threat to our South, the Orcs of the Blackmouth. They have been quelled, even if at the cost of life of our King*, but what should the future of the threat of Orcs be under a new monarch? As the Lord Stolt might tell you, the Blackmouth have a great many brutal, barbaric warriors at their behest, it is only their constant infighting and lack of leadership that keeps them from swarming our very borders."
Marek's eyes turned first to Duke James Conrad, then in turn to Lord Aldwyn Garentius. "Still yet a great many things are decided before casting your vote so quickly, Lords and Lady. The future of Osteria should not so easily be decided, but once a majority is established, Osteria's throne will have a new ruler."
* Battle of the Arches: The last battle between the Kingdom of Osteria and the Orcs of the Blackmouth and part of the Southern Crusade. The Battle of the Arches occurred when King Timault of the House of Osteria led a force of 41,000 soldiers, including 8,000 cavalry and a host of feudal levies under Lord Jerran Gades Stolt, Protector of the Southern Reaches into the Southern Reaches hoping to catch a massing horde of orcs before they could meet with a much larger host in the East.
The Osterian Black Army, while traveling through a valley called "The Arches," was ambushed by one of the many chiefs of the Blackmouth, Gorguth the Swift. During single combat, Gorguth slew King Timault. 27,000 Osterians were killed or wounded. A minor victory, Lord Stolt of the Southern Reaches was responsible for the death of Gorguth's son Groth, who he similarly slew in single combat.
Lord Marek listened as each Lord made his or her claim. First was Duke James Conrad. "Duke Conrad, of a long and very noble lineage. Perhaps it is finally time for the Conrad name to sit upon the throne of Osteria.." Lord Marek remained unmoving, his hands tucked to the small of his back.
Next was Lord Gerantius. "Ah yes, Lord Aldwyn Gerantius, head of the most noble House Gerantius and Duke of Marethia. A man with a great understanding of the intricacies of managing the breadbasket of the empire. A strong argument for the line of Gerantius. Who else might speak for or against these men. Still other voices yet we have not heard."
Marek's gaze teetered to and fro, to the other nobles that had not yet had a chance to speak.
The Rise of the Second Kingdom of Osteria
Chapter I: A New Monarch
Tythmas, Hightide of the Year of the Harvest, Reign of King Timault
Beyond it's high walls, the city of Tythmas was like any other. The walls reached so far beyond the city limits, it was as if Tythmas was a country all its own. It had its own fields, it's own pastures and windmills. It had it's own functional economy, and for decades it's walls had come to bequest the title of "The Unbreachable City" upon Tythmas. From there, King Timault had ruled. His father, King Tenneth had ruled justly for 47 years before following ill during the Short Winter. Timault, ever the brash and sensational Warrior-King, spent more hours planning crusades against the Blackmouth beyond the Southern Reaches than planning to solidify his dynasty as rule.
His apathy to the continuation of his lineage was not a direct threat to the kingdom, thanks to the Order of Silk and Iron. Vaunted protectors of more than just the Kingdom's many codexes, these scholarly warriors and martial academics were responsible for protecting not the king, but the throne. It was with this that over 700 years ago, the Rite of Continuation and the Ceremony of the Choosing was instituted. Never in Osteria's history however had such a rite been issued.
Until now.
The messengers weathered the crags and peaks of The Summit to reach Duke James Conrad. They journeyed east into Enea, where the quiet somber of the trees and the sparse interaction with the wistful and pointy eared merchants that crossed from Celihodon. The messengers of the Order rode to the desolate and dried fields of the Southern Reaches, staying long enough for refreshments and to pass the parchment telling of the death of King Timault to Lord Jeran Gades Stolt. Every Duchy and Barony was visited, and the expectation was every Duke--including Duchess-and Barony would be in attendance at the Hall of the Howling, on the first evening of the next month.
Their arrival would be onset by unfortunate storms, throwing Tythmas into an eerie shadow through the evening. As each Lord or Lady arrived, they were greeted by Lord Marek, the Low Lord of the Order of Silk and Iron and one of the most respected men in the entire kingdom. At near ninety years old, he had weathered a great many trial and tribulations of the kingdom. He was a gnarled and bent old man, standing in the scarlet robes of the Order with golden flecks cast upon the hems and sleeves. He stood at the head of the long table while servants brought wines and cheeses to the seated Lords and Ladies.
Outside, the rain beat down upon the great hall.
"It is a great calling that now rests on your shoulders, Lords--and Lady," he said, looking to Duchess Anfel Allard, the renowned half-elf who had long kept relations with the stoic princes of Celihodon at a high. "King Timault has fallen to Ash, but Osteria will rise anew. And it's new monarch sits in this very room. Who among you are qualified? Who among you would stand and give counsel as to why you wish yourself--or another--upon the throne?"
He stood for a long moment. "Speak now. Speak.. freely. For every moment Osteria goes without a ruler, it's people will suffer."
Was there anyone else wishing to join?
Name of Lord/Lady
Duke Alaric Gyre
Physical Description:
A man evidently of high and regal birth. Alaric does not evoke the learned scholar nor the hardened warrior in his physique but that of the Jauneaun noble lord. Boasting a respectable height and musculature expected of one who has trained for war, Alaric maintains a well-tended-to appearance of shoulder-length dark brown hair and a well kept beard framing a stern face with keen green eyes. Despite what his appearance may suggest, the Duke bears himself as a warrior would and is not unknowing when it comes to war, having seen his own, if limited share of combat and of command, for it would be a poor duke indeed who ruled the realm which housed the great Military Academy without a martial ability of his own.
The Duke can be found most often in rather humble attire of fine cloths lacking in the heraldry and decor most usually expected of a man in his position, with finer attire being kept for appearances at court or beyond the borders of the Duchy. A rather frugal man infected with the humbleness of his people, he is indeed.
Claimed Fief:
Duchy of Jauneau
Basic History:
House Gyre has ruled Jauneau for decades and Alaric is the natural continuation of that order. Having been raised from birth as firstborn of his House, Alaric has received an education as befitting his rank, understanding both the running of a realm and the social graces expected of his position. An education further augmented by his early years of adulthood being spent at the Osterian Military Academy whilst his father ruled the Duchy and campaigned abroad alongside the late King.
It would be on one of these campaigns in which Alaric's father would meet his death fighting to the last in protection of the late King Timault, in a confrontation with orcs of the Blackmouth Clan which would result not only in the death of his father, but of the King. An event which has forced Alaric to step up to the title of Duke and rule his father's realm at the relatively young age of 21. It has only been a short-while since Alaric was named Duke, but he has thus far proved to be a capable ruler, just and fair of morals albeit lacking in experience.
Background: Champion (Bonus to Combat Rolls)
Accepted.
Name of Lord Baron Conrad Sforza
Physical Description:
Once described as tall, blonde, and handsome with light green eyes, the Red Pox has left Baron Sforza pockmarked and disfigured. While he survived the effects of the disease, it was not without cost. The Baron has shaved his head, except for a warriors top knot. His body is marked from scars, both from the diseases, battle wounds, and self inflicted lashes when Sforza is in a particularly zealous mood.
Claimed Fief: Lussex
Basic History:
Conrad Sforza was never expected to rule or inherit, the third son of Francesco Sforza, it was expected that Conrad would have to seek his fortune on the battlefield or don the robes of a priest. But then the Red Pox ravaged Lussex, three generations of Sforza's were consigned to the earth. Conrad, a teenager survived the pox, but the plague left him physically ravaged in both body and mind.
Conrad believed that he was spared for a reason, the boy who once scoffed at the notion of God and sought the pleasures of flesh now spends hours in silent prayer. While some have called Conrad's sanity into question, no one can doubt his bravery in battle. The Baron personally leads the Lussex Flagbearers against the wretched creatures of the Floodplain's, trusting in God and his sword arm to bring him victory against the wretched abominations.
The Sforza's call their ancestral keep of Cambria home. The castle town is once a shadow of its former self, a relic of the age when the Sforza's answered to no King or liege lord. Time like everything else however has brought a great deal of change. Now the Sforza's pay lip service to the Summit. While Conrad has sworn an oath of loyalty to liege and god, the actions of his Duke and his mysterious past have never sat well with the man who now occupies Cambria. With the throne vacant, uncertain times lay ahead for Osteria and its people.
Background: Champion
Accepted.
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