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Post by Lord Harrab on Sept 10, 2015 4:59:44 GMT
Day 1, morning.Dawn rose over the Bay of Angels, the aspect of the Sun God pushing up from the waves like some fiery sea monster of legend, his wife, the moon had long slipped back to bed beyond the Central Mountains and already the bells of the various temples were already ringing, welcoming the warmth of the new day. The citizens of the empire would already be awake and working, some half a world away would be going to bed, but all were probably happy with their lot and the blessings the Gods had given them For Elisabeth Eclipse Athehere, she was finding it hard to feel the same. She knew she had more than most could want for, despite the unusually early hour of her rising so she could watch the sun rise from her fathers-, no her study window, her handmaidens had worked quickly and respectfully to ensure she was presentable, her hair perfect, her makeup exact, her dress fashionable and well fitted and doubtless breakfast was already on its way, her Seneschal Sylvanus never seemed to sleep and knew what she wanted better than she did most times, and yet she would have traded it all to have her father back. She pressed a hand against the glass, looking out across the water without seeing, she had hated seeing her father stuck in bed, coughing and fading away before her very eyes, he had always seemed so mighty and invincible, a permanent fixture in her life, a bulwark to shelter her, always and forever her father first and Emperor second. Now he was gone, and she was Empress, millions of people looking to her to lead and guide them, make the right choices and ensure their health, prosperity and happiness. father had made it look so easy, even after Mother had died, but whenever she walked down the Gallery of Kings she could feel her ancestor's eyes upon her, judging her, waiting to see if her royal blood was up to maintaining an empire that had spanned thousands of years. "Who is this buxom tart?" they seemed to ask each other, their stares fixed and their bearings regal and unflinching, "Surely she is not Empress of our line? she is a young nothing!" Elisabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and when she opened them again, she found her gaze had moved over to an artwork on the wall beside her father's bookcase, the Icecrown mountains, where her house had been founded and spread to rule most of the world, underneath, carved into gold, were their words. "Like the Mountains, we will endure." That quelled her doubts, dismissed her fears, she was Athehere, let the world exhaust itself against the bulwark of her will, she was a mountain she was Empress and she would keep her Empire the envy of the world. Not for herself, not for those portraits and statutes in the gallery. But for her father, who's last words to her had been whispered over tightly grasped hands and through a veil of tears a lifetime and only a day ago "I know you'll make me proud, my darling girl. I love you." She turned from the tall glass windows and sat at the large and ancient desk, and she briefly wondered how many Emperors and empresses had sat at it, idly moving the papers around, she would have to read through them all and organize them when she had time, meet with her inner circle and try and get over how intimidated she had been of them most of her life and more importantly, she had an empire to lead and a father to mourn.
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Castiel
Rising Legend
Lord of the West
Forth Eorlingas!
Posts: 644
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Post by Castiel on Sept 10, 2015 10:08:48 GMT
The doors to the Empress’ study opened before Dania Everstorm and the rest of the Inner Circle, the two Silver Knights stood watchfully outside nodding their heads in respect to the people passing. Inside the door Sir Galland Althaus moved from where he had been hovering, ever alert for a threat to the Imperial person. Together they approached the Empress where she stood by the window looking out across the bay. Dania moved with sure step, her robes of office rustling as she moved across the room with the Staff of the Enchanters tap-tapping on the floor with every step, never required for support or balance. She was a young woman, only 30, but already the most powerful mage in the Circle, unparalleled in duelling and with an encyclopaedic knowledge of enchantments as befits the First of the Magi. She stood at 5’ 7” tall, with a slim figure, long, light brown hair and eyes the dark brown of rich, melted chocolate.
Even without seeing the Empress’ face her sorrow was clear, and Dania’s heart went out to her. They all felt the old Emperor’s loss, but none so keenly as his daughter. However, it was a sad truth that her station did not allow much time for mourning, and there was much preparation to be done. The monarchy was never so vulnerable as in a time of succession.
Dania stepped forwards “Your Imperial Majesty, may we be the first to offer our condolences following the death of your father? He was a great man and will be sorely missed.”
She paused for a moment before pressing on.
“However, there is a lot that must be done ahead of the funeral. As much as it grieves us, we cannot stand idle and spend this time in mourning as we might like. There are many formal events that must occur between now and your coronation, and we must be ready for them. To that end we must begin training and preparations to ensure the next month runs smoothly. Have no fear though, your Majesty, as we stood ready to guide and protect your father, so we stand ready to guide and protect you.”
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Post by Nepty on Sept 10, 2015 10:35:36 GMT
Rather...flowery language from Everstorm there, thought Inquisitor Vinters to himself. He remained silent for now as the others interjected their own words or actions. Loyal Galland was off instantly, suspiciously peering into the niches and corners of the room, and Sylvanus followed soon after, with some vagaries about the catering while he straightened a crooked picture-frame. Vinters held his tongue and stood still, choosing to spend the time contemplating his words. After all, the first words out of a man's mouth on such a day held great import.
Personally, Vinters believed that during the funeral, spending overmuch resources on keeping the empress safe from imagined terrors was a needless expense during the already expensive Month of Greif.
But then again, he wasn't the seneschal.
"The first matter of business is the funeral, as the magi says," he nodded, with a sidelong glance at the aforementioned. Sorcerers of that kind had always sat slight wrong with him, but they were far better than witches. Better to have one as an ally than as a foe.
"It's going to be long. Probably going to be a mix of sad and boring during most of it. Think of it like holding court, only you don't get to sit down, and all you talk about is death." He straightened his wide brimmed hat. "It's in five days, so we have time, but I'd imagine we should get ready now. Bodies don't keep after all, even those as noble as our dear Emperor Charles." He nodded to the others. "Your grace, if we could speak tomorrow, I remind you of your obligations to the Gods in the upcoming funeral. They have their ways, after all. For now I must oversee the embalming rites and make sure they are held to a holy standard. Sylvanus, if you can meet me in the chapel once your done here?" He inclined his head at the Seneschal and stepped out. Good day, your grace, esteemed gentlemen. We shall talk more later, but for now, duty calls." He doffed his cap and turned his heel, striding out of the room with a whirl of his coat.
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Post by halonachos on Sept 10, 2015 18:31:11 GMT
"Now that those two are gone, your breakfast should be in soon enough. I've made sure to include your favorites, nothing cheers a person up like a delicious and sound meal I would say." Timothy began after the other two members had left. "We have some time to prepare for your first public appearance as Empress, unfortunately for such a sad occasion but also a happy one for I'm sure there is no one your father would have wanted on the throne besides you. As such we need to make sure your first appearance is a grand one. One that says that you love and care for your late father but also says that you, and only you, are the one who shall take his throne.". Timothy continued while looking through several closets for any sign of moths or other insects. He also began looking for a proper outfit for the day, surely none of these would pass for proper bereavement attire.
"I'll have to suggest we get a new dress tailored for the occasion, I'm sure you'll love what they come up with. Besides the clothing I'll have to ask which delegations, if any, you'd like to see or host on that day in addition to the whole... every... citizen... thing." Timothy shuddered a bit, the thought of the number of people walking around the castle and chapel grounds unnerved him. Not only for concern of the new Empress's safety but for the amount of dirt and filth that would most likely be tracked throughout the ceremony. He appreciated the average folk, but sometimes the phrase "dirty peasant" rang all too true and to allow such vagrants in was what he was supposed to do. Why oh why did the Emperor have to pass while he was seneschal? All that hard work he had put in, only to have some royal member pass away and to require such a large event!
"I'll miss your father." Timothy began, "But I think you're the right woman for the job and the only request I have is that you eat everything on your plate. Enjoy the quiet times for we have a few events to set up for. Your breakfast should be here, on time, and I'll have Alyssa come help prepare you for today."
With that Timothy set aside a proper dress for the day and walked out of the room, the breakfast tray was being brought up as he walked down the hall. With a quick side step he intercepted the tray and the poor maid carrying it, "Please tell me nothing was burned." he said as he lifted the lid and looked over the prepared meal, "Well everything appears to look in order, if she wants a different meal let the kitchen staff know immediately, but she should be very satisfied with this." he said as the aroma from the freshly made food filled the hallway. "Extra care today, no doubt she's feeling... not the happiest right now.".
"Now to see that damned inquisitor in the chapel, does he not know that I have other things to attend to besides tea parties?" Sylvanus mumbled, "Wait a second, there are at least three tea parties I do need to attend to. Oh, how could I have forgotten!".
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Timothy opened the door to the chapel, the Inquistor was in there, brooding as usual. "Good Inquisitor, I do appreciate your coming here to assist with the funeral but could we please make this quick? I have business to attend to."
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Post by Nepty on Sept 10, 2015 21:42:28 GMT
Vinters looked up from the great slab of obsidian that had been dragged out of storage for this occasion. A pair of the best corpse-wrights in the country were working on it, where the body of Emperor Charles Athelhere laid. He was covered up to his neck in a grand shawl, of course. It didn't do to see an emperor's innards, after all.
Vinters thought this a rather trite observance. During the Month of Grief, at the resetting of the calender upon the emperor's death, there were five days before he was actually allowed to be laid to rest. According to the history lessons, it was because it had several times proved too much for people, laying him to rest on the same day that he died.
Ergo, someone had to stop him from rotting, and ergo, Vinters had to watch them to make sure they didn't do anything...unsavory with the body. The Inquisitors had had this unenviable duty for four hundred years now, ever since that indecent with the necromancer.
He looked up as Sylvanus entered the room. The corpse-wrights didn't, focused on their rather grisly task of filling the body with herbs and salts and removing the organs.
Vinters nodded at the body, not disrespectfully -they had arranged his face so even as he lay in state under a sheet, he looked regal.
"They're going to dress him," explained Vinters curtly. "I thought you might want to decide what he wears, the fragrances they put in his earthly shell, that kind of thing. I think he might look better wearing his old suit of armor. You know, the blue burnished one."
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Sept 10, 2015 21:51:00 GMT
Gerald didn't much like the hustle and bustle of city life, let alone the thrones of activity inside the walls of the palace. He stood to the side as people briskly walked past, watching them as they carried trays of food, important documents and making him feel even more out of place as he scratched his arm at an itch that didn't exist, his coat making a rustling noise.
He knew he needed to visit the soon to be queen and had been putting it off as long as he could due to his apprehension of formal gatherings. As he stood there, just down the hall from the Inner Circle he steeled himself, knowing the quicker he got this over with the quicker he'd be able to get back to the great outdoors. He had already seen Dania go in. Vinters and Timothy were somewhere around as he remembered passing them sometime before.
He inhaled sharply, walking down the corridor with purpose and confidence as the attendants parted before him in homage. Two men opened the doors to the inner circle as he approached and he strode through without acknowledging them. Before them he saw Dania, the soon to be queen and several attendants around the room, seeing that she was in conversation with Dania he felt it best to wait for them to reach a suitable point for him to approach, choosing to stand aside respectfully to await a pause.
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Post by halonachos on Sept 10, 2015 22:33:58 GMT
"Hmmm... that seems to be outside of my responsibilities. After all I am in charge of making sure that the living are able to the late king and to make sure that the living stay happy. As for his attire there would be several options, his armor would make him seem like a warlord known only for conquest but a more gentle set of attire may be better suited to make the late Emperor seem more of the calm and wonderful man that he really was. I would suggest a set of his robes bearing the house colors with a sword laid down his chest." Timothy made his body stiff upright and pretended to be holding a sword with it's imaginary point resting on the ground and his hands wrapped around the intangible hilt. "Make him look like this, you get his dominant spirit and his philanthropic nature which I'm sure will have people remembering both of his good sides. For fragrances, I do not know, ask the seer about which ones are best suited to pass the king's spirit into the next life."
Timothy glanced at the corpse-wrights, "Just try not to dirty the chapel, I think he and I would both agree that he wouldn't want his innards on the floor. If you have any other questions then I would strongly suggest they be about hygiene, cooking, or the preparations for the guests that are within my purview. For now I need to see to it that the Empress is properly attired, I don't like the choice they made this morning. Too... bright it was. Needs to be more solemn and darker colors seem to fit her better anyways."
Timothy quickly turned heel and walked out of the chapel, he felt a bit queasy and quickly made his way to the dining hall. "Asking me what to put inside of his body... I knew how to fill his stomach, but now there's no stomach, I don't fill the needs of the dead, I take care of the living." he muttered quietly. He noticed some dust on the banister and quickly took out a cloth to wipe it with, it would need a good polishing later along with the floors. He noticed a butler, "Gwynn." he said while rapping his fingertips on the banister.
"Ah yes Mr. Sylvanus, I'll have that spotless soon enough." Gwynn replied quickly, "I've just been out of sorts with the passing and such."
"We all are Gwynn," Timothy said as he began to walk by the young man, "which is why we must be extra diligent in our duties. Just because it is a dull and dark time in the kingdom doesn't mean our walls and floors should be.".
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Post by Nepty on Sept 11, 2015 12:47:36 GMT
Vinters turned his gaze back to the shrouded corpse-wrights. As he did, he turned his head slightly to the right.
"Vanthe," he demanded. "Give me your sun-and-moon."
A shadow detached itself from the wall and floated over to Vinters. As it stepped into the light of the stained glass window, it resolved itself to be a black-cloaked young man about half Vinter's age, with a gaunt, sallow face and a large hooked nose, all framed by thick black hair that hung in loose curls down to the neck. Vinters turned to face him. Wordlessly, the acolyte handed him a rod with a moon insignia on one end and a sun on the other -the holy symbol of the religious Duality.
"Something troubling you?"
Vanthe shrugged. "Nothing of consequence."
"Out with it boy."
"The manner of the emperor's passing-"
Vinters shook his head. "-Was natural. Everstorm detected no poisons, and I double checked."
Vanthe bowed his head."Yes my lord. But did you release these findings to the public?"
Vinters went silent. "That's a good point. Nip any gossip in the bud, as it were. Go find whoever's job it is to tell people these things and tell him." Vanthe nodded solemnly. "But first, find Orcesai." He nodded at the body. "Tell her to take over here." Without further word he rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, grasped the Sun-and-moon emblem in his right hand and stepped up the the daias. "Alright sir move aside," he said to the nearest corpse-wright, who silently bowed and drifted away from the slab.
Vinters cleared his throat and pulled down the sheets covering the body. With his left hand laid over the chest (Which now had more than a little blood on it) he held the holy item in his right and recited a short version of the prayer of absolution and protection, though itself longer than the last rites he had delivered to the Emperor the night before, on his deathbed.
When he wad done, he washed the blood off of his hand in the basin and stepped out into the morning sunshine.
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Post by Lord Harrab on Sept 12, 2015 23:58:07 GMT
The Princess sighed, and nodded at the Inquisitor and Mage's words, she began to idly twirl a letter opener in her hand, she had made her dress selection without thinking, her usual colors of blue and purple, but that would send the wrong impression to the citizens and she couldn't afford the time she wanted to organize her feelings and thoughts.
"You're right. All of you." she said finally, setting the small bronze dagger back down on the surface of the desk, "Ill have plenty of time to mope and feel sorry for myself once things settle down around here."
The Inquisitor and Scenichal both made motions to withdraw, and she dismissed them with a wave, Sylvanus returning for a moment to gently lay a more somber and conservative dress on an open section of desk, before he too left with a bow.
"What would you have me do, Lady Everstorm?" she said, lifting the dress up to examine it, "although it seems i will have to spend the morning getting dressed again."
The door opened, and Gerald Wicksworth the game warden sidled in, managing to look uncomfortable under the eaves of a building rather than the canopy of a forest. the Princess liked him, her father had been full of stories of the two of them hunting beasts together and she was slightly disappointed to see his timberwolf wasn't with him, of course, you couldn't bring a dog like that inside the palace, but Tim was as well behaved and friendly to her as any noble bred pet, although she assumed that scine those couldn't bring down a bear with a single bite they were afforded a bit more leeway.
Elizibeth returned her focus to the mage, not that much older than her but so calm and collected. She hoped she could imitate her somewhat, and with a snap of her fingers passed the dress off to the butler that entered the room after the warden, placing a tray on the table and unmasking it with a flourish.
"Have this readied in my dressing room, i will be there shortly." she commanded then sat back down, staring at her advisers who remained over steeples fingers, she remembered it being a habit of her fathers and it seemed to work for him.
"Guard Captain, your thoughts?"
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Post by Nepty on Sept 13, 2015 2:20:04 GMT
"Right, let's get the day started." Vinters set his jaw. What was there to do after all? He resolved to ask about, and see if anyone required the services of the Inquisition.
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