The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
UPDATES
05.26.2023
2 month character creation hold for all existing members begins 6/5/2023. Ended 8/5/2023.
10.29.2023
Change in how times flows. Was 4 IC seasons, now only 2 IC seasons per 1 OOC year.
5 whole years of Heir Apparent goodness! When I started the site, I knew I was hunkering down for the long haul, but I never could have predicted the numerous twists and turns this roleplay site has seen. Hundreds of plots, characters, and members have come and gone, all leaving marks on the site. I am so very thankful for those who have invested. Because you keep coming back, keep getting on, and keep writing, Heir Apparent has the legacy it does today. Three cheers to us!
The Commander and Regan had ridden in mostly blissful silence the day and half it took to ride from Loren to just outside Airedale. The occasional conversation that passed was when they decided to eat, when one of them needed a bathroom break, or discussing directions on the map. The camp of fifty soldiers sent a head had intersected Nolan, their detailed report stated they had been watching the inn but hadn't spotted Fischer at the inn. Several passes through Airedale had yielded nothing. In fact citizens had been denying access or accepting searches from soldiers, everyone was adamant Fischer Wyndham wasn't in Airedale.
People that adamant were hiding something. It would be sent back to the King and Queen, but Nolan with Regan continued on with their mission. Nolan's attention to detail and intellilect had helped lead them to the Green Chapel inn. Bringing their horses to a slow trot Nolan could see the inn in the distance, his gray eyes cut over to Regan, "There it is, dinghy little place," and his observation was rightly so, it got its name because it was covered in a deep green colored moss and the roof gave access to a steeple with a functional bell. Nothing religious took place there only drinking. It sat in a clearing at the edge of the woods, "Looks empty."
Last Edit: Jul 30, 2022 22:55:22 GMT -5 by Deleted
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jul 31, 2022 8:53:56 GMT -5
Regan was grateful for the peaceful silence of their travels. Strangely, in their relative quiet she’d come to rather enjoy Nolan’s company, for the simple reason that he didn’t demand anything over. There was no small talk about her family or childhood—topics that would be embarrassing, to say the least.
When they arrived in Airedale, that peace was broken. It would seem Nolan’s soldiers had already begun searching door-to-door for Fischer (Regan had opinions on that matter, but decidedly kept them to herself). If Fischer hadn’t been tipped off that they were on the hunt for him, then he likely was now. Regardless, they had a job to do, and the Green Chapel was their best lead.
“Well, let’s take a look then, shall we?” Regan said, looking over at Nolan with a sideways grin. Equipped with the same potions and sword she had been on her arrival, Regan would wait for Nolan’s consent before starting forward. She’d take a deep breath sniffing as her eyes flashed amber. When Cassian had taken her to the estate to search for the missing steward, the hellhound had taken a big ole whiff of Wyndham. If the man was inside, she’d smell a fresh scent. If he wasn’t, the stale smell would at least give a clue that he had in fact been there.
When he observed her sideways grin he felt his own renewal to the task swell, the Duke suddenly felt himself hoping to find Fischer within. It wasn't the same energy as Regan's smirk but Nolan's held its own...Dukeness...he nodded his consent to the Witch soldier falling in step beside her and her horse. A few small homes dotted the trail leading up to the inn they were covered in the same moss as the inn a few dirty kids playing in a muddy puddle had stopped to watch the two looming riders. The Duke dipped his head at them but his face sat like stone void of a smile, one kid waved, but his sister quickly took his hand and pulled him up the few steps where they disappeared into the shadows of the home.
The closer they got the clearer it became that the Green Chapel was not empty of at least, "Music," Nolan mumbled, raging violins and an angry piano clashed with each other from inside: Nolan immediately knew the song being played a haunting diddy about sorrow. The Duke didn't have a supernatural sense so he wasn't aware of Regan's but she would catch a whiff of Wyndham. Dismounting his horse and tying him to a post with a horse head his hand went to rest on the hilt of his sword, just a in case of course.
Once on the ground Nolan could feel the vibrations of the dancing inside, there was a traditional dance that accompanied the song playing, against the bottom of his heavy boots. He looked at Regan, "Seems there is a party, shall we?"
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jul 31, 2022 18:37:03 GMT -5
Regan’s eyes tracked across the villagers who were dropping away like birds fleeing a storm. Thankfully, soldiers moved in to take their place. If they didn’t surround the inn on their own, Regan would motion for them to do so. Fischer’s smell was fresh. They had him where they wanted him, and it was in both her and Nolan’s best interest that it stayed that way.
“He’s here,” Regan whispered, nodding, “I’ll keep watch while you deliver the summons—quickly and quietly. Wouldn’t want to unnecessarily spoil their good time.” Though Regan was under no false assumption the inn was full of friendly faces. Anyone who wasn’t a soldier of Nolan’s was suspicious. Perhaps even then…
Regan pushed the door open just enough for her and Nolan to slip in. The dance was in full swing, the room crowded with twirling skirts and raucous laughter. Regan went to the side, slipping around the outer wall, following her nose until she spied their target. Fischer was playing feverishly at the piano with a maniacal grin that made Regan’s stomach turn. Given the close quarters, her sword would do her no good.
She slowly pulled the dagger from her thigh, keeping it clutched surreptitiously at her side as her claws dug into her palm. She jerked her head at Nolan, indicating he should move in while she slipped around the wall—keeping anyone from coming up behind her while staying between Fischer and the exit.
NPC permission for Fischer and Nolan's soldiers given by M'Baku
Taking the summons from Regan and pushing past her into the inn and along the edge of the thundering dance floor Nolan emerged with one hand on his shorter blade and summons in the other. He appeared to be all business and his gray eyes instantly found the Count. Fischer looked like a feverish bandit pounding on the keys of the old brown piano in the center of the room. Eyes seemed to slowly break from the fun and the singing landing upon Nolan, it was like a domino affect that followed. Everyone was looking except it seemed the fiddler still dueling the now distracted Count Fischer.
It was like a sore thumb the first initial sight of the Duke, Fischer had been enveloped into the harsh and depressing song, sweat poured from him, his clothes were stained, and yet when he saw the doom looming face of Nolan the smile that sat crooked and mared with haunting joy never disappeared. The last few key strokes were light. The dancers had stopped, patrons froze mid drinking, and the only sound was the gritty rape of the fiddle strings as they had yet to spy Nolan.
Fischer finally raised a hand to the woman's shoulder signaling her to stop. She froze as everyone else had but Fischer spoke, "Duke, color me surprised to find you here. Are you on vacation as well? Things are hairy down south you feel me on that friend?"
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jun 15, 2023 17:25:16 GMT -5
The stilled crowd made Regan’s job much, much easier. She stayed against the wall so as not to draw attention to herself, but still stayed close enough she could intervene if need be. Her nose wrinkled at Fischer Wyndham’s voice. She had no problem believing he was as despicable as the blonde gifteds claimed him to be.
Regan let Nolan do his thing, but her hand remained tight around her dagger, her muscles tense, the hellhound close enough to scratch the surface.
Nolan hadn't moved, as everything died down to nothing but heavy breathing and the eerily calm voice of Fischer, the Duke didn't remove his eyes from the Count.
"Count Fischer Wyndham, I've arrived with an official summons from the Queen and King for your immediate detainment and return to Loren for questioning involving your actions and dealings of the assault at Allemeade Keep, and your involvement with the Son's of the Equinox," Nolan held the official summons up for Fischer, "For your safety and those within this dwelling Fischer, I recommend you come quietly."
FISCHER:
Fischer gave the most confused look, like a dog when a human tries speaking to it, a little turn of his head even but that smirk was as solid on the Count's face.
"Oh my? Well surely this is mass confusion Duke Nolan, I'm but just on vacation with my children," and like it was scripted out emerged both of the Counts children holding the hands of a woman, but not just any woman but Shray the Dukes wife, "But of course! I'll come clear up any nonsense, of course you know your wife she told us you would be joining us...the hero of Allemeade Keep!"
Shray had departed from the palace immediately after Nolan's dismissal. She wore a hard line on her face and held a hard glare at her husband Nolan who looked geniualy taken off guard.
"Y...you are still down with the cause right Nolan? Or at least helping me while I help you...right?"
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jun 15, 2023 17:26:51 GMT -5
This wasn’t right.
Regan had seen Shray before. She had been in the room when she first came to see Nolan and, though she didn’t know the woman to be his wife, she did know that she certainly worked with Nolan. Nolan’s face made clear this was an unexpected turn of events. That this was, more likey than not, a trap.
“Out,” Regan said quietly and calmly to the partygoers closest to her, “Get everyone out. Now.” She would start moving forward, slowly, eyes never leaving Fischer.
Confusion swept across the Duke's brow line but anger pressed his lips into a thin tight line. A few guests did leave but a lot more stayed, Ned behind the bar watched hands full with glass and rag.
"That's her, the Witch Lord Equinox sent by King Cassian," Shray called out the woman moving toward Fischer, "Our gift to the cause my Lord," the tight line relaxed when Nolan saw the look in his wife's eye, the plea that connected the dots, "Bar the doors and tell the soldiers outside no one but us leave here alive."
Nolan pulled the short sword from it's sheath, "Regan..." Nolan finally spoke inching himself toward her...
FISCHER:
The Count was smirking triumphantly staring at the little dark haired girl Shray was indicating, "Blessings, she's so exotic, hi dear," Fischer coo'd holding his arms out limply toward her, "Did the Duke forget to tell you and your crown he's a son himself? That his wife got him into the movement! We welcome you with open arms," he smiled greedily.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jun 15, 2023 17:28:17 GMT -5
Reality hit Regan with a dreadful smack. It was Nolan’s soldiers outside—not there to keep Fischer in, but her. She was the gift that was being offered. If looks could kill, Regan’s glare at Nolan would. But as it was, the witch had far more frightening tricks up her sleeve.
The tavern-goers would likely have had the good sense to get out of the way, so they were not between the witch and the advancing foe. It was a lucky thing for them, too. An incantation flew from Regan’s tongue. An energy blast would rip through the tavern, directed toward Nolan, Fischer, and Shray.
The Duke turned to brace for whatever impact was coming from the Witch and at least if he was knocked forward he could see what he was going to collide with.
FISCHER:
Fischer would dive to save his children, putting himself between the blast of the harlotry be damned Witch.
CN [ ELOELL ]: The blast of energy that tore through the space between the witch and her targets rushed like a blow made by an invisible, giant sword. Those who had remained and were watching from the sidelines felt the tug on their clothes, their hair whipping wildly about their faces like the flailing tentacles of a disturbed octopus.
As for Nolan, as he was closest to Regan, he took the brunt of the attack. It plowed into his turned back, catapulting his form through the air as a child might throw its rag doll, limbs possessed by the force of the angry witch’s intentions. He would hit the back wall—not a nice sight to witness his own inevitable collision with—bouncing from it to the ground. His posture allowed for relatively minimal damage, all things considered; one arm was broken by the wall, the wrist of his other snapped, too. They kept his head from hitting, though his neck and spine would ache for weeks from the whiplash and falling to the ground, making it extremely difficult for him to stand and do anything else against the woman he was trying to gift.
Shray, accepting the leftovers from Nolan, was thrust onto her back, and would only have a sore tailbone to complain of.
Fischer’s dive set him before the kids. He was hit in the side, knocking him back and into the kids. Whatever damage they faced was from the weight of their father toppling into them.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jun 15, 2023 17:30:11 GMT -5
“Everyone out. Now.”
Though it surely didn’t need saying. The partygoers should know to flee, lest they be caught in the crossfire. Immediately, Regan started murmuring, the words flowing as she marched toward the three crumpled traitors. She made straight for Shray, still murmuring, stomping a boot to her chest—enough to break a collarbone, perhaps more—before letting her dagger fly across the woman’s face.
It was not a precise slice. Maybe the woman would lose her nose, an eye, but either way she was sure to be deformed. Regan’s voice would rise in volume as she pressed her hand against Shray’s mangled visage, blood squelching through her fingers before she backed away, looking for incoming foes.
Witches were creatures of chaos—not honor, restraint, or mercy. It was rage that colored Regan’s features as Shray’s blood coated her hands to call the summoning forward.
The 10 party goers did not listen to the barking commands of the Witch, no they were going to remind her where she was exactly. A den of loyal followers. In fact outside the 50 soldiers of Nolan's had already started barring the doors from the outside.
Nolan wasn't moving, his body was broken and busted. He could still hear Shray as she was attacked but little it would do.
Ned from behind the bar grabbed up a weapon from under the bar, the crowd that had remained also began pulling and grabbing makeshift weapons which were broken chairs, busted bottles and daggers.
"I don't think you get it Witch," Ned spoke, "Kill the whole lot or maybe you should leave."
The 10 patrons that remained all started to descend upon Regan.
FISCHER:
Fischer only heard one cry of pain and that was from his boy, he heard the snap of the arm as he rolled over them. Scrambling to all fours he was fine, Faeylin was fine stunned and eyes already wet as she looked at her Father. His son was crying out as Fischer snatched the boy up, climbing to his knees. He was still smirking as he started to move amongst the crowd who have turned on Regan.
"Ready the fires!" Fischer yelled to the men outside, "Burn it to the ground..."
Men outside of the inn would hear this command and ready their projectiles bottles with a flammable liquid. Arrows would be lit with torches... They held their action...
CN [ ELOELL ]: Shray, though trained as a soldier, was still recovering from her fall when Regan approached. She tried to sit up but Regan's boot found her and forced her back against the ground, a cry jumping from her lips as her collar bone was fractured. Her face was then cut, the blade tearing open her skin from her chin, across her lips, and ending just below her eye. It was deep enough to reveal her teeth and cheekbone. A sickly mixture of a scream and a moan left her, and it continued as Regan grabbed her.
No one was happy to see Shray getting attacked. They already started to draw their weapons, seeing that the witch didn't intend to run. In fact, Regan backed away, but they were already closing in on her.
The ten people mob were attempting to close in around Regan, there was no exit now as she seemed to be backing deeper into the inn. And as soon as Regan seemed to inflict any kind of attack on Shray the mob of 10 would rush forward stabbing or grabbing whatever they could of Regan, Ned with his dagger didn't regard friend or foe as he went to stab Regan's arm that held Shray.
Fischer however had inched over to Nolan, the broken man hadn't really moved but Fischer saw the man breathing and his eyes open. Fischer stepped on the man's fingers as he squatted down over him, smiling, "Bad day isn't it?"
Pulling a small blade from his own pocket, Fischer would adjust his son, "We'll get you checked out soon bubby...just one thing left to do," and Fischer would drive the dagger into the center of Nolan's chest, deep.