League of Kings
Rain and Rust - Tears and Trust
OOC: My first little RP on here, it's a Solo-RP and me trying to play a bit around with a storyline and the settings here! Worldbuilding Post to come soon, and the Lexicon to be updated soon as well!
Chapter 1 – Rain and Rust
Rain and Rust - Tears and Trust
OOC: My first little RP on here, it's a Solo-RP and me trying to play a bit around with a storyline and the settings here! Worldbuilding Post to come soon, and the Lexicon to be updated soon as well!
Chapter 1 – Rain and Rust
She shivered and quickly pulled her dark cloak tighter. It was already late, the tavern almost deserted, and the candles were glowing with the last flaming life force they could muster. It was storming outside. The wind raged around the area, lightning and thunder made every living being tremble before the force of the gods. The rain pelted down noisily, creeping like a misty ghost throughout the tavern. The glass of the dusty windows trembled; small puddles gathered at the edges. It was a ramshackle place of lukewarm beer and disgusting wine. The goblet stood almost untouched in front of her. But it is the only safe shelter nearby.
She just wants to leave. Return to the safe Olaburg² to her family, to her father, the count of Verune⁴ and vassal of Lord Henrik¹ I, to whose son she is promised. To her mother, Lady Ladia of the House of Westerhaupt⁵. To her brothers and sisters. The eldest, a successful General, proud, and resplendent in gold-adorned armor, renowned for his outward elegance, raised to the highest possible ranks of a ducal knight, the entire pride of the family. Pride that’s being hunted by the second-born son as well and offers especial importance to her. Women have it hard in the feudal world, no rights, no free will of their own. They are there to bear and raise children and then see them die miserably on a battlefield or because of a disease. Arabella doesn't want children yet, but is already promised to Lord Henrik's son, a rough and big guy, a happy match for the family ... but not for her.
With blank eyes, she continues to stare at the goblet, not even noticing the person who has just entered. "Your Excellency. I offer you my services," he says. A servant in plain clothes stands in front of Arabella with wet hair, and completely soaked robes. She looks at him only briefly and then turns her gaze again to the full drink in front of her. He continues "I apologize for my petty words in front of Your Excellency. The rain has rendered the wagon unusable, and the roads are nothing but piles of mud. It looks as if Your Excellency may grace this cow village with your wonderful presence much longer."
Arabella purses her mouth in annoyance and turns to the young man "Any longer? I am already tired of being here. I want to go back to Olaburg! There is only rain and tears, sorrows, and hardships here, and I am in the middle of it. This is no place for a young noblewoman!"
"Of course not, Your Excellency, however, your humble servants' hands are tied right now. In the name of the gods, we'll try our best and invoke their blessings!" With his eyes downcast, he sneaks through the adjacent gateway to the stable, the accommodation of the three simple servants who have come along.
Arabella lowers her eyes to the full wine goblet again. Her hand trembles slightly, the corners of her mouth droop, she really doesn't want to be in this ramshackle place any longer. Servants are missing, and she is a young woman. She can't disregard all the important work for her goals and her future. It lacks the humming activity of the Olaburg², whether early in the morning when the rooster screams and the sun gently fall on the bed, or late in the evening when the sun has long been asleep, the wind gently envelops the castle, and a great feast is being prepared. It lacks safety from weather and man, protection from rain and storms, protection from the wrath of the gods and the greed of men, protection from barbarians, beasts, and the common people. In short, it simply lacks everything. She is a noblewoman, not a filthy common whore who gets to admire her three children while being controlled by her peasant husband, and thus has substantial claim to female noble privileges.
"Are we in a bad mood again?" a voice sounds from the background. Outraged, Arabella turns and looks into her brother's blue-flashing eyes. Lembrandt, a Count's Knight of Verune⁴, second-born son of the Count and Arabella's second oldest brother returns the look with a smile.
"Now don't be like that, sister! We're in a safe shelter where this wet filth can't reach us." Arabella squints her eyes "This barrack is not one bit better. It is not on my level ..." immediately she is interrupted by Lembrandt. "Your level, dear sister, is in the soft bed at home by the side of your promised one, am I right?" The young noblewoman blushes slightly and wants to continue animatedly, but the knight again beats her to it. "Well, that is a shame. You are young and will see much of the world, you must take the chance. But it's more likely for the Stone Dragon in the Red Light Mountain³ to wake up than you understanding me. Nothing can hurt us anymore, it's a safe barrack“.
Attacked, she straightens up and brushes her light dress together. "I thank you for the conversation, my brother, but I am tired and do not wish to be disturbed in my bed." With quick steps, without waiting for a reply from her brother, she hurries up the stairs and slams the door. Muffled thunder sounds from outside and raindrops spread a soft rustle. She drops onto her bed and closes her eyes.
Her thoughts wander wildly. Her brother is usually annoying and has a completely different idea than her, but has certain moments of truth. It's easy to talk like this as a man, they are unattached, they can do what they want ... they are just free. Freedom, pff. In this place, marked by exploitation, war and epidemics, there is nothing better than being born into a noble house. The distance from the people, the protection, almost surveillance, the wealth and the nobility's duties to the feudal lord and the empire are something good after all. And the duties to a future husband ... Still, the echo of Lembrandt's words lingers in her heart and confuses her senses. Freedom. A word distant from women, paired with suffering and poverty. A glorified word for something intangible. For something mythical? Her eyes grow heavier and heavier until she falls asleep.
Hooves and loudly shouted words startle her out of her sleep. The door to the room opens and Lembrandt looks in. "Good night, sister. I just wanted to check on you." with these words Lembrandt takes Arabella by the arm and accompanies her down the steps into the tavern's main room. "It looks like another guest has chosen this inn."
It is still raining outside, the sky is night-black, and the first candles have gone out in the inn. Lembrandt and Arabella sit down at a table and look at the door. The noise outside has stopped by now, a servant with weapons stands behind the two nobles. The front door opens and a man, wrapped in complete plate armor stands there. Rain drips down, the last of the light reflecting off his wet plates. A longsword hangs to the left, dripping down reddish. A play of light. Two large eagle wings decorate the sides of the helmet, freezing Arabella's heart for a moment. A tattered cloak and scratch marks on the armor indicate an exhausting journey. A metal seal with an eagle can be seen on the right shoulder plate on the cloak. No other crest on his light cloth robe startles Arabella. It is rare to see a knight without any assignment or decoration.
Lembrandt looks surprised as well and speaks up. "Dear Sir Knight, it is already late. One does not often see other knights. Who are you, and what do you want at night?" The iron head swivels briefly to the table and then to the waiting innkeeper, who stands behind his bar, equally awakened by the noise and clearly surprised. "One room." a muffled sound comes from under the helmet. Without further reply, he tosses a gold coin on the counter and turns toward the steps with a final nod to the table. From a distance, the door slams shut.
"My brother, who is this man? He wears no crest on his metal chest!" Lembrandt takes his hand from his sword and sits down again "I do not know, beloved sister. But it is not entirely clear to me. There are many possibilities in this crazy world. He is a palladin, sworn on one of the high ones to say but little word, or a knight of the realm, a knight in distress, perhaps a thief. He may also be a robber baron, it can be suspected" Arabella flinches and looks suspiciously at the puddles left behind. "A robber baron? I hope not. Did you not say it was safe here?" "This may change it, though it is strongly unlikely." Arabella sits back with an uneasy look and drinks the full goblet from two hours ago empty with a few sips. Laugter gives her another pause. "You should have seen your face." Lembrandt laughs at her. "A robber baron here, in the middle of nowhere. Most unlikely."
She just wants to leave. Return to the safe Olaburg² to her family, to her father, the count of Verune⁴ and vassal of Lord Henrik¹ I, to whose son she is promised. To her mother, Lady Ladia of the House of Westerhaupt⁵. To her brothers and sisters. The eldest, a successful General, proud, and resplendent in gold-adorned armor, renowned for his outward elegance, raised to the highest possible ranks of a ducal knight, the entire pride of the family. Pride that’s being hunted by the second-born son as well and offers especial importance to her. Women have it hard in the feudal world, no rights, no free will of their own. They are there to bear and raise children and then see them die miserably on a battlefield or because of a disease. Arabella doesn't want children yet, but is already promised to Lord Henrik's son, a rough and big guy, a happy match for the family ... but not for her.
With blank eyes, she continues to stare at the goblet, not even noticing the person who has just entered. "Your Excellency. I offer you my services," he says. A servant in plain clothes stands in front of Arabella with wet hair, and completely soaked robes. She looks at him only briefly and then turns her gaze again to the full drink in front of her. He continues "I apologize for my petty words in front of Your Excellency. The rain has rendered the wagon unusable, and the roads are nothing but piles of mud. It looks as if Your Excellency may grace this cow village with your wonderful presence much longer."
Arabella purses her mouth in annoyance and turns to the young man "Any longer? I am already tired of being here. I want to go back to Olaburg! There is only rain and tears, sorrows, and hardships here, and I am in the middle of it. This is no place for a young noblewoman!"
"Of course not, Your Excellency, however, your humble servants' hands are tied right now. In the name of the gods, we'll try our best and invoke their blessings!" With his eyes downcast, he sneaks through the adjacent gateway to the stable, the accommodation of the three simple servants who have come along.
Arabella lowers her eyes to the full wine goblet again. Her hand trembles slightly, the corners of her mouth droop, she really doesn't want to be in this ramshackle place any longer. Servants are missing, and she is a young woman. She can't disregard all the important work for her goals and her future. It lacks the humming activity of the Olaburg², whether early in the morning when the rooster screams and the sun gently fall on the bed, or late in the evening when the sun has long been asleep, the wind gently envelops the castle, and a great feast is being prepared. It lacks safety from weather and man, protection from rain and storms, protection from the wrath of the gods and the greed of men, protection from barbarians, beasts, and the common people. In short, it simply lacks everything. She is a noblewoman, not a filthy common whore who gets to admire her three children while being controlled by her peasant husband, and thus has substantial claim to female noble privileges.
"Are we in a bad mood again?" a voice sounds from the background. Outraged, Arabella turns and looks into her brother's blue-flashing eyes. Lembrandt, a Count's Knight of Verune⁴, second-born son of the Count and Arabella's second oldest brother returns the look with a smile.
"Now don't be like that, sister! We're in a safe shelter where this wet filth can't reach us." Arabella squints her eyes "This barrack is not one bit better. It is not on my level ..." immediately she is interrupted by Lembrandt. "Your level, dear sister, is in the soft bed at home by the side of your promised one, am I right?" The young noblewoman blushes slightly and wants to continue animatedly, but the knight again beats her to it. "Well, that is a shame. You are young and will see much of the world, you must take the chance. But it's more likely for the Stone Dragon in the Red Light Mountain³ to wake up than you understanding me. Nothing can hurt us anymore, it's a safe barrack“.
Attacked, she straightens up and brushes her light dress together. "I thank you for the conversation, my brother, but I am tired and do not wish to be disturbed in my bed." With quick steps, without waiting for a reply from her brother, she hurries up the stairs and slams the door. Muffled thunder sounds from outside and raindrops spread a soft rustle. She drops onto her bed and closes her eyes.
Her thoughts wander wildly. Her brother is usually annoying and has a completely different idea than her, but has certain moments of truth. It's easy to talk like this as a man, they are unattached, they can do what they want ... they are just free. Freedom, pff. In this place, marked by exploitation, war and epidemics, there is nothing better than being born into a noble house. The distance from the people, the protection, almost surveillance, the wealth and the nobility's duties to the feudal lord and the empire are something good after all. And the duties to a future husband ... Still, the echo of Lembrandt's words lingers in her heart and confuses her senses. Freedom. A word distant from women, paired with suffering and poverty. A glorified word for something intangible. For something mythical? Her eyes grow heavier and heavier until she falls asleep.
Hooves and loudly shouted words startle her out of her sleep. The door to the room opens and Lembrandt looks in. "Good night, sister. I just wanted to check on you." with these words Lembrandt takes Arabella by the arm and accompanies her down the steps into the tavern's main room. "It looks like another guest has chosen this inn."
It is still raining outside, the sky is night-black, and the first candles have gone out in the inn. Lembrandt and Arabella sit down at a table and look at the door. The noise outside has stopped by now, a servant with weapons stands behind the two nobles. The front door opens and a man, wrapped in complete plate armor stands there. Rain drips down, the last of the light reflecting off his wet plates. A longsword hangs to the left, dripping down reddish. A play of light. Two large eagle wings decorate the sides of the helmet, freezing Arabella's heart for a moment. A tattered cloak and scratch marks on the armor indicate an exhausting journey. A metal seal with an eagle can be seen on the right shoulder plate on the cloak. No other crest on his light cloth robe startles Arabella. It is rare to see a knight without any assignment or decoration.
Lembrandt looks surprised as well and speaks up. "Dear Sir Knight, it is already late. One does not often see other knights. Who are you, and what do you want at night?" The iron head swivels briefly to the table and then to the waiting innkeeper, who stands behind his bar, equally awakened by the noise and clearly surprised. "One room." a muffled sound comes from under the helmet. Without further reply, he tosses a gold coin on the counter and turns toward the steps with a final nod to the table. From a distance, the door slams shut.
"My brother, who is this man? He wears no crest on his metal chest!" Lembrandt takes his hand from his sword and sits down again "I do not know, beloved sister. But it is not entirely clear to me. There are many possibilities in this crazy world. He is a palladin, sworn on one of the high ones to say but little word, or a knight of the realm, a knight in distress, perhaps a thief. He may also be a robber baron, it can be suspected" Arabella flinches and looks suspiciously at the puddles left behind. "A robber baron? I hope not. Did you not say it was safe here?" "This may change it, though it is strongly unlikely." Arabella sits back with an uneasy look and drinks the full goblet from two hours ago empty with a few sips. Laugter gives her another pause. "You should have seen your face." Lembrandt laughs at her. "A robber baron here, in the middle of nowhere. Most unlikely."
Arabella just nods in resignation. It was clear her brother again ...
*¹ Henrik I., Lord - Duke of Verune-Werdt, feudal lord of the County of Westerhaupt and head of the Werdts. He was born as a duke's son and lived in the Werdt valley all his life. He is towering, strong and wears a thick brown beard. He uses a battle hammer and is known for his berserker-like fighting style, for which he was chosen as Knight of the Purple Flower, an honorary title for brave combat actions of a duke or count in the Western Part of the lands. He is married to Mailinda von Werdt-Haupt and together they have one son and three daughters.
*² Olaburg - The Olaburg is the ancestral seat of the House of Westerhaupt in the County of Verune. It was built several centuries ago by an older and smaller noble house, and for a long time it was part as the province of West Verune of a small kingdom. Later on, the armies of the Werdt's and their vassals, including the Westerhaupts, moved from the east, conquering this castle and receiving it as their ancestral seat. It sits on a small hill surrounded by dense forest. It has a main tower, two smaller side towers and a small yard. A village of the same name is located at the eastern end of the castle.
*³ Red Light Mountains - The Red Light Mountains are a mountain range in the far west of Verune-Werdt, which includes the Werdt Valley, the headquarters of the ducal family of the same name. According to a legend, a giant stone dragon lies asleep in this mountain range since the fall of the Olaburg and the former noble family. When the old noble blood returns, the dragon will awaken and take revenge on the conquerors.
*⁴ Verune - Verune is a county in the west of the League. It belongs to the Duchy of Verune-Werdt and is currently ruled by the House of Westerhaupt. It has a chain of hills in the west, as well as dense forests throughout the land. A river of the same name flows to the north.
*⁵ Westerhaupt, House of - Is a noble house of the middle eras. Originally from an unknown origin in the Riverlands, the house gained fame through various heroic knights who also supported the Werdt's in their conquests of Verune-Werdt. They are the oldest vassal of the dukedom. Currently, the head of the family is Arnold von Westerhaupt, who is married to Lady Ladia and fathered a total of five children. Of these, Lembrandt is the second-born son, while Arabella is the first-born daughter, though the third child. They all strive for fame, which is achieved especially by the firstborn son, who became a Ducal Knight and participated in various battles.
*² Olaburg - The Olaburg is the ancestral seat of the House of Westerhaupt in the County of Verune. It was built several centuries ago by an older and smaller noble house, and for a long time it was part as the province of West Verune of a small kingdom. Later on, the armies of the Werdt's and their vassals, including the Westerhaupts, moved from the east, conquering this castle and receiving it as their ancestral seat. It sits on a small hill surrounded by dense forest. It has a main tower, two smaller side towers and a small yard. A village of the same name is located at the eastern end of the castle.
*³ Red Light Mountains - The Red Light Mountains are a mountain range in the far west of Verune-Werdt, which includes the Werdt Valley, the headquarters of the ducal family of the same name. According to a legend, a giant stone dragon lies asleep in this mountain range since the fall of the Olaburg and the former noble family. When the old noble blood returns, the dragon will awaken and take revenge on the conquerors.
*⁴ Verune - Verune is a county in the west of the League. It belongs to the Duchy of Verune-Werdt and is currently ruled by the House of Westerhaupt. It has a chain of hills in the west, as well as dense forests throughout the land. A river of the same name flows to the north.
*⁵ Westerhaupt, House of - Is a noble house of the middle eras. Originally from an unknown origin in the Riverlands, the house gained fame through various heroic knights who also supported the Werdt's in their conquests of Verune-Werdt. They are the oldest vassal of the dukedom. Currently, the head of the family is Arnold von Westerhaupt, who is married to Lady Ladia and fathered a total of five children. Of these, Lembrandt is the second-born son, while Arabella is the first-born daughter, though the third child. They all strive for fame, which is achieved especially by the firstborn son, who became a Ducal Knight and participated in various battles.
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