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!
Post by Regan Lassiter on Apr 21, 2023 14:21:15 GMT -5
There was no use lying. She already had once, and Regan was not a creature made for deceitful negotiation. Besides, there was no telling what audience she’d be pandering to. The speaker remained an enigma: a shapeless aggressor in the dark.
“To Nevermere,” Regan hissed through clenched teeth, eyes still wide with reluctant defeat, “I’ve been ordered to bring him.”
RAEL: Rael spun, anger carrying his fist in frustrated arc. Nevermere. Invisible to the rest of the beach, he seethed, half-bare chest heaving in heavy, furious breaths. Nevermere. He should have pulled Victory from his back when he could. He should have made his stand. Here. Now.
Instead, he turned to face the witch and her unseen assailant once more, anger tight between his teeth. “Let her go, Wren.” It was another whispered growl swallowed by the crackling of the flames while his mouth curled in disgust. “It’s not worth it.” Not here. Not now.
Nevermere. If it wouldn’t have brought unwanted eyes down upon, he already would have kicked half beach into the ocean. Othello was his man. Sworn to him. Coheed in all but name. They had no right.
Post by Willa Wren on Apr 23, 2023 16:22:13 GMT -5
The Cambrian sucked in air between her teeth at the witch’s claim. Nevermere. A place Wren had never wanted to return to. Would she, in order to kill Othello? Without question.
She heard what Rael whispered, but he was not, nor had he ever been, someone she wanted to listen to. His decisions always served his own purposes. He wasn’t out for Cambria nor Wren’s justice. He likely wanted to keep her in Coheed as a pawn for himself.
“I will take your offer.” Wren said to the witch. “You will get him now, but you will help me kill him. Soon.” Her hold on the woman’s arm released, but Wren didn’t go anywhere.
“Until then,” she murmured, voice growing quieter and quieter, “consider me your shadow.” Regan would be able to smell that she was still up close and personal, but otherwise Wren would have appeared to have left.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Apr 23, 2023 18:06:17 GMT -5
Wren’s words set a ripple of cold down Regan’s back. The full weight of her failure was starting to settle in and open a pit in her stomach. The flames were starting to die as Regan sapped them of their strength.
With one last look into the blackness where the voice came, Regan would turn and make for Ellison. Once she found the woman, she’d grab her arm and deliver orders. Regan would glance at Grant before returning her attention entirely to Ellison.
“Gather all the soldiers you can find and secure the area. Every Coheedsman should be told to return to their home. Any that resist should be detained.” Regan looked to Grant.
“Get help to clear the area of debris and retrieve anything we may have lost. Do it quickly.” And with that, Regan would start to walk away, keeping her senses tuned to Wren to see if she would follow. She'd head in the direction of the village, though slowly.
"So what is it you have against the gifted?" Regan asked as the flames started to die around her.
RAEL: Again, Rael grit his teeth, frustration pulsing through the veins in his neck while he glared not at the witch but at the vacant space beside her. He couldn’t know for certain whether Wren haunted the witch’s left or her right, so he chose the right and glared at it all the same.
This—this—was the reason he’d sent Othello back to Coheed rather than risk bringing him into Cambrian waters. All evidence to the contrary, Willa Wren’s temper was one even Rael knew better than to tempt.
He watched the witch turn, fury throbbing in his blood. He was wasting time standing here, but he was reluctant to lose the witch now before he knew for certain where she was going. With a silent, angry snarl, Rael begrudgingly took a step forward, following in the Nevermeran’s wake.
Post by Kaalim Cyrilson on Apr 23, 2023 18:27:34 GMT -5
The Beast receded from it's fury and back into the already mountain sized man, he didn't stick around either. Another victory for Nevermere. He returned to his living wives and children, he wouldn't help them move the metal or the chaos this was their mess.
Post by Willa Wren on Apr 24, 2023 13:21:59 GMT -5
Wren did walk with the Nevermerean, not close enough to reach and touch, but close enough to be considered with her. She would listen closely to every aspect of the woman, from the way she spoke to the very beat of her heart. Enhanced hearing could be a curse, at times, but tonight it would serve her well. The witches attacking the flames with bursts of destructive water served to shield her hearing from Rael's steps, but it hardly mattered. She didn't care what Rael chose to do.
The Cambrian warrior was turning the Nevermerean's words in her mind. The creature was already gone with Othello. They were going to make a deal, or something like that. She didn't trust the situation at all. Wren hated Nevermere, and even if the individual before her was a woman, she was still an enemy. If only Wren had paid more attention to the witches that had been living in Cambria for over six years now.
"I am not here to talk. You and I won't be friends." Because that seemed to be a Nevermerean agenda. She had resisted them in Cambria, and she could to it all the more easily now. Wren made sure to keep her voice quiet. Only the ears of the enhanced would pick up on what she said. "Tell me how you intend to help me kill him."
Post by Regan Lassiter on Apr 24, 2023 18:15:33 GMT -5
1…2…3…
Just like Cassian and taught her.
The wheels of Regan’s mind spun faster than they ever had before. She was a fighter, not a diplomat. She wasn’t cut out for negotiation and tricks of exchange. She was a fighter, and all she wanted was to swing at the darkness in the hopes she’d find an enemy made of flesh, blood, and bone.
But she didn’t turn. Whoever it was that had grabbed her in the dark had done so with an impossible grip. She was invisible, and Regan had no way of knowing what other tricks were up her sleeve. Fighting was not an option, so negotiation would have to be.
And there was only one woman for that. Magda.
“I’m not going to talk about this here,” Regan replied defeatedly to the dark, drawing on her irritation, “We can intercept the gifted when he arrives in Nevermere, but we have to get there first. The Foreign Minister has the portal key. She isn’t expecting me just yet…” Regan huffed, “But I’m gonna assume she’s already awake.”
Regan, much like Wren, wasn’t there to talk. She’d continue trudging in the direction of the chieftain’s hut.
GRANT: Grant smiled a little at Ellison. "I'm fine, just got hit with a stray arrow or, something," he said. He'd felt around for wood or fletching or bits sticking out of him but all that got him was some more twanging pains and a lot of blood. Not like the salt water was helping the pains that much--
"Oh, thank you, ma'am" he said, accepting the potion and tossing it back. He made a face as he felt whatever damage had been done start to mend itself.
His eyes snapped open when he heard Regan speaking and realized he must have been standing there for a minute or two longer than he intended to. "Yes, ma'am,"** Grant said, saluting at Regan and then looking around. Goddesses. If Regan wanted him to find something they were missing, that meant the collar probably got sucked up in all that metal business. Grant was pretty sure it was supposed to be anti-Gifted specifically, but there was nothing else irreplaceable that she could have left behind, unless the Othello guy was lying behind a rock or something, paralyzed.
He started off in the other direction to help damage control and to keep his eyes peeled for any signs of the collar.
When it rained it poured, he supposed.
[ EXIT GRANT ]
RAEL: Rael very nearly growled. With his jaw clenched and his fist closed tightly around the stone in his hand, he stopped. “Stall the witch if you can,” it was a frustrated, grit-out whisper intended for Wren’s enhanced ears. He was still a handful of paces from the witch and could only assume that Wren was still the invisible shadow she had sworn to be, clinging to her heels.
He didn’t linger long enough to guess at whether Wren had heard him or whether she would do as he said if she had. Instead, he turned to cut through a narrow passage between two huts, sprinting for the Chieftain’s hut and the woman he hoped he would find within. If the foreign witch got to Magda before he did, Othello was as good as dead. He was certain of it.
All that remained to be seen now was whether Magda really was who she claimed to be.
By the time he reached the Chieftain’s hut, Rael would be nearly out of breath but—hopefully—well ahead of Wren and the witch she followed.
The Cambrian's steps slowed at Regan's words. The Minister of Foreign Affairs. The slimy woman who had her hands around the Chieftain's neck, and now Rian's, too. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing, or so she heard. Wren kept her distance, lest she break the woman in a hasty flash of anger. It would be for Coheed...
"No." Wren stopped walking then. "I didn't make a deal with her." She heard Rael saying something to her as she was speaking, but she didn't listen to him. Wren couldn't possibly know his agenda, and she wouldn't let it get in the way of her own.
"Either you tell me how you intend to help me kill him, or I kill you here and hunt down the beast and the gifted on my own." She'd said Nevermere, after all. How hard would it be for an invisible woman with strength like hers to break into the castle and take her prize? Surely that's where it was headed, considering Regan likely worked close to the king, being the King's Huntsman and all...
Paying little to no mind to what the higher ups were doing she rounded up a few fellow witches and started doing what Ellison was. Surely she had better things to do as the commanding officer. Putting the fires out in a methodical and organized method. After that was done she would wait for any other orders but otherwise go off to find her partner. [Kat exit]
Post by Regan Lassiter on Apr 26, 2023 8:51:25 GMT -5
Regan’s heart thundered in her ears. The wolf living in her skin bristled with aggression at Wren’s threat. She breathed deeply, counting slowly to keep calm. Regan was afraid—which Wren would no doubt sense—for she’d be a fool if she were anything else.
“The minister’s just getting us to Nevermere,” Regan explained in hushed tones as she walked with measured footsteps toward the chieftain’s hut, “It’s the only way to get to the gifted before anyone else does. The creature’s taking the prisoner where it was told to—a rendezvous point outside of Skia. The portal key will take us there. It’s a cabin—” Regan quieted as she nodded to a hustling squad of Nevermrean soldiers. Clearing her throat she’d continue.
“With the portal key, we’ll get there first. You kill him, then make it look like he attacked me. Make it bad—like I had no other choice,” Regan scoffed. “I’m sure you can use your imagination.” She hushed again as more soldiers marched by. Her next words were whispered fervently.
“But we have to get there first. Kill the gifted, kill me, kill whoever you want—but the king stays out of it. Deal?” Regan noted the absurdity of making deals with the dark.
Last Edit: Apr 26, 2023 8:51:37 GMT -5 by Regan Lassiter
Post by Willa Wren on Apr 27, 2023 12:03:50 GMT -5
Wren didn’t actually notice the woman’s fear. She wasn’t focused on the Nevermerean. She was thinking about Othello, about what he had done, about what she intended to do, and about what this would mean for her.
The plan started to unfold. It was extensive and complicated. It was full of deceit, the kind Wren didn’t engage in. She would rather walk up to the problem and punch it square on the face.
Rael’s words came back to her. It’s not worth it. What the Nevermerean wanted to do was complex. It had many possibilities to fail. Was it worth it? Wren typically worked alone.
She was silent following the woman’s words, and after a handful of steps she stopped.
“No.” The word fell, cold and lonely, before it’s friends stepped forward to join it. “You’ve said you will help me get him. I want you to swear it. Cut your hand and swear it, and I’ll leave you.”
The timing wasn’t right. Her plan wasn’t right. Rael’s words wouldn’t stop repeating in her mind.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Apr 27, 2023 12:12:48 GMT -5
Regan stopped in her tracks. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she turned to face the blackness she'd been conversing with. The tiny little gears of her brain were spinning, trying to keep up with the wildly changing, perplexing circumstances she'd found herself in. Regan too was not a creature for deceit or complicated plans. She was a soldier, with simple loyalties, and a worldview that depended not on personal game but on the principles of loyalty and brutal justice.
But Regan didn't want to die. Not for this gifted. Not today. And she believed with everything Cassian wouldn't want her to either. Slowly Regan pulled a dagger from her belt so as not to startle the invisible figure. Regan was ready to cut, but she hesitated.
"Does he deserve it?" Regan asked frankly, holding the knife just above her hand.
Wren wasn’t watching the Nevermerean. She was looking towards the sky, trying to find the creature with Othello that she knew she wouldn’t find, for she believed the woman when she had said they were already on their way to Nevermere.
“Without question.” Wren said quietly, yet even as the words left her tongue she felt a pang of uncertainty. He had killed her sister, yes, but in retrospect the situation had been do or die. The Cambrians had been hunting Othello and his men at their former Chieftess’ order. His actions arguably could have been self defense. But then she remembered the way he had smiled as he had done it. Wren had killed many in battle, and their deaths had brought her no joy. This man…he was different. He was broken.
The uncertainty she’d been feeling ebbed away.
“Swear to me you’ll help me get to him.” She said it again. Did she trust the promise of a Nevermerean? No, she didn’t. But in the off chance that this fellow woman was a keeper of promises, Wren would find her task that much easier when the opportunity arose again.
“And cursed yourself if you fail to uphold your end.” Wren didn’t know the first thing about curses. Whatever Regan chose to do, Wren would likely believe it.