The mists are beautiful.

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WolvinX84
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The mists are beautiful.

Post by WolvinX84 »

Standing on the walls of his fortress keep, the Count of Modan-Lach gazes out over the countryside of his realm. Sighing, he looks at the mists formed on the low hills, as the moon lights them radiantly. A cold breeze brought the scent of the sea, which was just over the hills to the east. The genetic memory of his ancestry called to him. Called him to the sea.

As Count Wolvin I stood breathing in the cold night air, a young man walks up and speaks.

M'Lord, Count. Shouldn't you be in your chambers resting? It will be dawn in a few hours.

It was a young houseguard, a loose strand of his dark hair moving gently in the breaze. The Count said nothing in return at first, continueing his late night lament. As the guard was about to leave his lord in peace, and return to his rounds, Count Wolvin Spoke.

Do you know where you are lad? I mean, of course you do. A silly question. I can tell by the look on your face. But at the same time lad, my good lad, you have no idea were you stand.

The guard was about to speak, but decided that he would simply look the fool if he said anything. What could he say?


This land used to be more than a county you know. It used to be the center of something greater. You see those hills to the north? Over them, lies the Hamlet of Brookshire. Yes. You know of it from history books. But have you ever been there? It was once the heart of a duchy. Named for that very city. Did you know that city is older than the Empire?


The young man nodded. He had read some basic history of the area since the move from the Raynor Islands.


I passed by that city on my way back from visiting the Countess of Alexandretta. I had never seen it before. I expected a large city, bustling with humanity. I expected to see- Well, you know what I saw? Nothing. I saw nothing of what I expected. I saw an ancient city, yes. But in ruins. Since the disolution of the duchies. That is, the duchies of old, it has fallen to decay. No longer the capital of a large duchy. Did you know the Duchy of Brookshire was the first duchy? Oh yes. Large too. Stretched all the way accross the River Elywnn. Even included the Imperial city. Shirekeep. Though the city itself was autonomous, under the Kaiser. But now, the city is nothing more than a ruin of what it once was.


Under the moonlight the guard studied his count. Not an impressive man by an extent of the imagination. About average height, brown hair, brown eyes. But there was something he could not place about his lord. Something deeper inside, something hidden. Something, old.


I miss the sea, lad. I miss it in my bones. My family is from the sea you know. Family lore has it, somewhere down in there, way back, there are pirates.


The Count laughed. Something that confused the guard. It was a friendly laugh, but it made him nervous. He had once been told by his father to beware of laughing nobles.


I do not know if I believe it myself. But it makes for good family lore. Though, the fact remains, the ocean is in my blood. My father's blood. His father's. And it goes on like that. You know what is more? This is not far from where my family used to reside, in ancient times. I do not mean here, but somewhere near this coast. This was before the family migrated to the Raynor Islands. And before even that, tale has it we came from the lands across the inner sea. Came from the Yardistani lands.


The count began walking now, along the walls. Gesturing to the guard, the young man followed, as the count was outlined by the glow of the moon overheard.


It was once tradition in my family, when a member was old, and did not feel like continueing to burden the family with their needs, they would go to the sea. It was not seen as a bad thing. Occassionally tales would come back of the elder reaching some exotic shore were they would find death, in peace.


Disturbed by the morbid turn the conversation had taken, the guard dropped back slightly so that the strange nobleman was a few inches in front of him, on his left. The action, though subtle, did not go unnoticed by Wolvin.


Some day I will go to the sea lad. When my time has come, and I grow tired of land. As it stands, I have no heir. No child. No wife. No consort. When I leave, as it stands, I will be the last of my line. With me, my house will end. As it stands.


Count Wolvin continued looking out at the mists that were on the hills. He so loved the way the mists formed, and looked under the moonlight. Something about them brought a joy to his heart, but also, they brought a melencholy he could never express in words. He could only sigh.


You know. I had a wife once. Not sure if you knew that. I do not speak of her often. Nor does anyone else. Most likely for fear of upsetting me. Sensible enough I suppose. Curious I see. Well, yes. A wife. She died, many year ago. No children. As you may have noticed. I do miss her sometimes. But, fate is, what fate is.


Wolvin sighed again. The guardsman, felt pitty for his lord count. If not for proper etiquette, he would almost want to give him a hug. Was this what he saw hidden? Or was there something deeper?


I do not need your pitty boy. Though, I do not fault you for it. The mists are beautiful tonight lad.


With this last statement, the Count Wolvin I, of Modan-Lach, left the wall top, the guardsman watching him leave, standing in utter confusion. The Count, going now to his bed chamber, for the rest he so desperately needed, thought of the past. If only he could have said goodbye. If only he could have said he was sorry. But that was fate, and this was life.
Count of Modan-Lach
Let the dream of confusion lead you into the virgin light.

Pandora
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Location: Northern California, County of Alexandretta
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Post by Pandora »

*knocks*

Hello? Wolvin?

I hope I'm not disturbing you? I'm back and I decided to pay you a visit!

*Set down on a nearby table a hot arouma-drifting mango pie.*

*Makes herself comfy and knits while she waits for Wolvin*
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Home of the even tans.

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Braden Indianensis
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Location: Number 12 Concord Street, Nafticon, Republic of Antica

Post by Braden Indianensis »

Braden wanders into the room absent-mindedly, carrying with him a roadmap and a befuddled expression. He looks up, and makes a noise resembling a gasp, with a sigh appended quickly.

I swear! As if my duties as Foreign Affairs Assistant weren't arduous enough, I come to Shireroth for a small vacation, and what do I find? Naked people eating pies. Ah, well! I brought milk!

Braden sits the little crate full of glass milk bottles on the table in front of Pandora and Wolvin. Pandora eyes the milk suspiciously.
Antican Ambassador to Shireroth and Babkha
Former Speaker of the Assembly of the Republic of Antica
Reporter for the Antican Liberator
Elder Guard of the Order of the Vorpal Blade

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