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!
He watched the Nevermere troops coming in and it was like watching a swarm of rats leaving a sinking ship. He thrust his sword out hard, as if taking off their heads in one fell swoop before stepping back. Ferrul sighed, deciding to stop his training and sat down on the ground to sharpen his sword and glare at them. More of them sticking their noses into OUR land and trying to infiltrate their home for as long as they could. Infuriating little things. The sword sang out loudly against the whetstone and his dark eyes never moved from the unwelcome invasion.
The wind sighed along with him, as if sharing in the resentment the Warrior was feeling at the moment. Firm footsteps following the path behind him approached quietly and he side eyed a lean figure. Ferrul nodded at Leander and then returned a dirty look at those cockroaches infesting Coheed. Hmmph!
Last Edit: Jun 25, 2023 20:50:50 GMT -5 by Deleted
Leander had long become accustomed to the constant presence of Nevermerean soldiers in Gilead. Agents of the pestilence that threatened the heart of Coheed, they scurried like vermin through city streets and were about as welcome and numerous as such pests, too - at least, by any true Coheedsman. The plague-carrying creatures had, of course, been welcomed with open arms by none other than the man who claimed to have Coheed’s best interests at heart even as he worked to eradicate everything that made their kingdom what it was. First Gilead, then Nevermere, then the elevation of the female sex. All of it was utterly shameful.
With the next round of soldiers due to arrive, Leander made his way up the little rise that provided something of a view over the docks only to find the haunt already occupied. A handful of years his junior, Ferrul Brawleyson had earned a reputation as the kind of man who found success as a warrior: the kind of man who both started and ended fights. A lifetime of experience had taught Leander that such warriors seldom took very kindly to his presence, so as he drew to a stop carefully out of arms reach - far too many times had he been grabbed and dragged around for forgetting such a precaution - he returned the nod. Keeping the other man in his peripherals, Leander turned his attention back to the Nevermereans. Then: “Came to enjoy the show?”
Ferrul frowned at the man and the comment, giving Leander a brief look. He was smart enough to stay out of his reach when he was in this mood. The large man snorted and said scornfully,
"Look at them shrinking from the sun like cockroaches running from the light!"
The whetstone rang out in the air extra loud, like a warning threat toward the arriving soldiers. Were any normal Coheedsman down there, they would have heard and looked up at the blatant challenge. His dark ebony eyes glared at them hard. "No Coheedsman from down there wouldn't hear that and not look up to see me. Mewling pathetic shrews that are nearly blind and deaf with just as little strength." His voice growled out, showing his rising ire.
He looked down at at Leander briefly and then back to the crowd again. That little man might be a spineless coward with no honor, but Leander at least knew that even the lowest of Coheed females was far stronger than Nevermere's best male.
Last Edit: Jun 29, 2023 19:19:45 GMT -5 by Deleted
As he was wont to do, Leander listened quietly to Ferrul’s complaints, too long accustomed to the screech of a whetstone on steel to flinch at the unpleasant noise. Sensitive hearing was useful in many regards, but in others, it became rather inconvenient. When he was a boy, the noise of the training grounds in his tribe had been overwhelming.
But that was neither here nor there. Ferrul clearly had some strong feelings on their Nevermerean parasites. Leander found himself wondering how far they went. He made a noise of agreement, then, and glanced over at the other man. “Blind, deaf, and weak,” He summarized silkily. “Yet our chieftan has bent his knee to them, just as the one before him did.” To no one’s surprise, given that the two men were brothers. “And Rian has even claimed one for his wife.”
Ferrul glowered and spared a look at Leander, making a noise somewhere between disgust and a growl of hatred before staring down the pathetic weak people.
"They're so pale and sickly, weakness shows in everything about them. Pathetic." he spat out the last word angrily.
That skinny little spineless coward spoke boldly of the Chieftain and the warrior contemplated his words, keeping his own full counsel on that. His upper lip twitched in disgust as he fought back his temper. Double the fools to not just accept Nevermere weakness on their soil, but to purposely take one of their skinny women as good breeding stock?! Though he shouldn't say anything, Ferrul's temper rose to the surface and he replied anyway,
"Maybe he wants to make sure no one tries to steal the puny worm he calls a wife." his tone dripping with scornful disdain at Leander's comment. It was wrong! "NONE of them should be here. Much less welcomed to sit with honorable warriors and good families. Their strongest man would easily be bested by even the weakest Coheed girl child."
Well, Leander found himself musing as he listened to the warrior spit out another round of insults. If Nevermere ever sought a man to sing their praises, they would do well to overlook this one.
Ferrul might have initially attempted to keep his opinions on the chieftains a secret, but his smaller companion had turned to watch his expression. Keen eyes practiced at reading the nuances in the body language of his conversation partners catalogued the disgust that flickered across Ferrul’s countenance: the twitch of his upper lip, the tension in his jaw, the clenched fingers on the whetstone and sword. The other man himself only confirmed a moment later through a largely typical Coheedian statement.
Yes, Ferrul, one can safely assume that by marrying her, Rian is invested in his Nevermerean wife’s exclusivity, Leander thought but did not say. Some men had brains. Some men had brawn. The Nevermereans, according to the warrior beside him, had neither.
“They have not earned their places at the table,” He agreed smoothly, elaborating on the warrior’s perspective. “Yet they sit there anyway. Eating our food. Scorning our traditions. Dishonoring our strongest warriors by considering themselves equal.“ A pause. “How can you stand it, Ferrul?”
Ferrul's words were an angry and resentful lip service to the Nevermere soldiers in general, with Magda Ivanova as the secret obsession. No one could or would deny her sleek, exotic beauty or commanding presence. And he was VERY jealous of @rian having the woman all to himself, though he'd never admit it aloud-to anyone. Especially that sneaky little rat near him.
Leander's not so casual words were of course, meant to provoke him. And it worked beautifully. Turning his dark eyes fully on him, Ferrul scowled in answer, stood and whipped out his arm casually at the scrawny weasel's head, his sword stretched out fully. The tall Coheedsman was positive that rat would evade it, but lashing out at him was a fun way to make his point known.
What he lacked in brute strength, Leander made up for in intelligence. He knew exactly what he had tempted by needling Ferrul. Keenly aware of the short fuse owned by every Coheedsman, his attention hadn’t strayed from the large one beside him, so when the other warrior abruptly shifted and stood, the smaller man had already prepared for some display of aggression.
The blow toward his head was easy to dodge, and, in his opinion, utterly unnecessary. Honestly. The things he dealt with on a daily basis.
“No true warrior could,” Leander soothed, hands loosely open in front of him as if subtly trying to placate the man. “But I am not your enemy, Ferrul. I recognize that you are the epitome of a Coheedsman: strong, proud, and honorable.” With one hand, he gestured toward the Nevermereans below. “How do you intend to make them see the same?”
Why did the scrawny little weasel have to talk so much and provoke everyone around him? It was one of the many nauseating qualities that made Leander everyone's favorite and most deserving punching bag. Ferrul held it out a moment longer before finally lowering his sword, despite how much he wanted to cut out his flapping tongue.
The word honorable had him putting away the whetstone and turning his head back to the unwanted mass of unwelcome soldiers still disembarking. Leander's question was a good one and Ferrul's eyebrows lowered as he thought about it.
"Those vermin need to learn boundaries when they walk our land. And bring more women too."
It was as good an answer as any other and his gaze focused on the bevy of females instead of the man beside him. There were plenty of chances for fun with them, even if they were Nevermere scum.
Asserting that the Nevermereans needed to learn boundaries did not technically answer the question that he had asked, Leander silently bemoaned. In so many of the men around him, every ounce of intelligence seemed to be put toward posturing rather than any amount of thought. Though he took advantage of such shortcomings as much as possible, sometimes they caused him great pain as well.
Still, at least the warrior had lowered his sword.
Leander made an agreeable noise at Ferrul’s words, turning again to watch the soldiers disembark, though he kept the other warrior in his peripherals. “Will you be the one to teach them such boundaries? You’re a respected warrior, after all. An example to every Coheedsman of what they can become.” A brief pause. “Why not become an example to all of them of why they ought to respect us?”
Ferrul had come up here to be alone. To be away from the growing crowds and think of his wife and sons that had passed. Wishing only for the quiet that distance and solitude could give him, Leander had shown up. As usual acting like a scavenger when a real predator had made a rightful kill through their own hard work and efforts. A vein throbbed in his temple as the guy just kept talking to hear himself talk and apparently both a scowl and a sword to the head was too damn subtle for Leander. If the guy tried to keep burying his head up Ferrul's ass this hard, he'd be puking him up from the other end soon.
He exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to keep a tight rein on his temper as he turned to the little fishercat looking to yap at him. What did that weasel want from him?
"How can you say so many words without having any meaning? How do YOU intend to start a fight with this new army's arrival Leander? Tell me what your plan is." Ferrul shot back at him, his ebony eyes hard and uncompromising.
Last Edit: Jul 16, 2023 21:34:35 GMT -5 by Deleted
“Careful, Ferrul,” Leander cautioned with a wry smile. “Keep talking like that and I might start believing you think me capable of fighting.” He knew how the other warriors viewed him, even if they refrained from voicing such thoughts. “You know as well as I how any altercation would end.” A pause.
“And I have no plans.” He shrugged, glancing back at the other warrior. “I merely thought to point out that if you wish to establish such boundaries with these people, what better time to do so than with newcomers who have yet to learn the lay of the land?”
Him? A fighter? The smarmy coward! Ferrul laughed loudly and smirked with a quip,
"You could be a good entertainer too."
Leander as a fighter? Of what? Maybe if it was him fighting off responsibility, honor, self-control and discipline. But he did have a valid point on the other hand about the vermin that had so recently arrived. Someone should let them know that the women, food and land was NOT for Nevermere weaklings. Ferrul slowly stood, thinking more on what the guy had said.
"This is the perfect time to intercept and let them know that all of this belongs to Coheed only, and should stay with Coheedsman. They should keep themselves away from our women, food and land. I don't want them off that ship in the first place."
Last Edit: Jul 18, 2023 19:25:56 GMT -5 by Deleted
As Ferrul stood, Leander backed up a step and offered the other man a pleasant smile. “You are a warrior of Coheed, Ferrul, and when warriors want something, they take it.” He gestured lazily with one hand toward the Nevermereans below. “You want them to learn how they ought to behave. The window of opportunity to most effectively teach them grows smaller with each passing day.” After all, bad habits quickly took root and always grew with increasing tenacity.
Unless stopped, Leander would back away before turning to make a casual exit, keenly aware of the warrior he left behind. But he wouldn’t go silently. Only once he had tossed a light, “Just something to consider,” carelessly over his shoulder would he depart.
Why did Leander have to be such a provoking little weasel all the time? Ferrul didn't turn around as he finally heard the small man retreating. Good riddance. Probably off to scavenge a carcass or some other sneaky thing he'd try.
Now back to those Nevermerans. He needed to think of a way to get them out of Coheed and keep them far far away. But how?