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!
In possession of a magical necklace that wards off offensive magic attacks against him, a ring that allows him to suppress magic, and can turn into werewolf at will.
Post by Cassian Rainecourt on Oct 25, 2022 13:13:18 GMT -5
Cassian's dark gaze was fixed on Odina, from the time she began speaking, when she finished and bowed his way, when he dipped his head in acknowledgement, to when she decided to make a quick exit. No doubt more than one courtier would think that her arm was twisted behind her back, but such assumptions were inevitable. Whatever her speech left Cassian feeling, it didn't show on his face. There was only neutrality there, the kind some of his citizens praised him for and others criticized.
When the merchant stepped up, not formally introducing himself but mentioning his family name, Cassian was intrigued. It was a smart move, using the platform of open court to gain business, and if the king were a clapping man he might have brought his hands together for this Morrigan. It was unlikely that Keelan would see the spark of approval in the king's gaze.
Rather than speaking, Cassian nodded his head at Keelan Morrigan, a wordless approval of what the man offered. Kennet Caern, having functionally become the voice of the king in open court settings, would jump in next.
Post by Kennet Caern on Oct 25, 2022 20:04:34 GMT -5
Keelan Morrigan had to be one of the few Morrigans in all of Nevermere Kennet had never personally encountered. That being said, she knew more than enough about the man and his trade to brandish a wry smirk long before he had made his offer in full. It was a bold one to be certain, and a quick glance toward Cassian was all Kennet needed to confirm he agreed.
Still, Kennet waited until Keelan’s remarked had settled in full, wafting between the murmuring crowd, before turning an intrigued smile down upon the Morrigan. “Lord Keelan, is it not?” Kennet remarked, descending a single step before continuing. “The city you speak of is to be built over the former village of Zulu Carr. The village lays in ruin now but occupies an advantageous stretch of land between the mountains and the river. Establishing our stronghold there will require a certain entrepreneurial spirit and more than a little ingenuity, I should think.” Unlike the subtle undercurrent of Cassian’s approval, Kennet’s meaning was one intended for the court at large: that it would take men like Keelan Morrigan to build the next great chapter in Nevermeran history.
The river that cut through the interior of Terra Nova was narrow and far too shallow for their ships, but that hardly meant Keelan Morrigan’s offer had fallen on deaf ears. On the contrary, the man had all but secured himself a contract and there was not a lord in the throne room who did not know it. “I shall look forward to talking more soon, Lord Morrigan.” With a gracious dip of her chin that promised more discussion to come, Kennet delivered her response and—in so doing—that of the king.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Oct 26, 2022 19:24:35 GMT -5
“The city you speak of is to be built over the former village of Zulu Carr.”
Magda showed now outward signs of discontent, but inside she was fuming. More and more, she was beginning to realize that being the ambassador to Coheed meant very little. Yet another thing that she was not informed of ahead of time yet would have to manage the consequences of. Nevermereans making themselves at home on the ruins of Zulu Carr…that was going to go over swimmingly.
In the lull, Lord Howell trudged forward with a deeply etched scowl on his face. It was difficult to say whether this was his default expression or was symptomatic of his current discontent. Either way, the old man stopped before Cassian Rainecourt and Kennet Caern with a geriatric grumble. He bowed as low as his bones would allow before starting in.
“Your majesty—” Lord Howell descended into a brief coughing fit before coming back up for air, “Your majesty, please forgive me, but I must speak my mind. No doubt most of us have heard that a troop of Dresmondi are now present in our great castle.” The xenophobia in the lord’s voice was not to be mistaken as he glanced at the other gathered nobles.
“I am reminded of the time seven years ago when I first spotted the blonde heads of Cambirans wandering our streets. It wasn’t long after that we acquired their lands, and so I, a goddess-loving Nevermerean, must ask—” Howell puffed up his feeble chest, looking up at the king with wilting imperiousness.
“Should we expect history to repeat itself? Can you tell your subjects here and now whether you intend to provoke the Eldouirs? Whether you will reach for Dresmond instead of letting sleeping dogs lie?” Howell looked around as if he expected other nobles to jump onto his bandwagon.
Warren clenched his teeth, jaw tightening. He hadn't come to Open Court with the intention of involving himself. He'd expected this discussion of the Dresmondi to be brought up, for some people to have their say. He was only a Lieutenant. The King and the Commander would make the rulings and he would simply do as he was told. But as the older man stepped forward and said his peace, a silence followed. A silence that, to Warren, suggested there were too many people in the crowd that might agree with him.
So annoyed was he by Lord Howell's statement that he pushed himself off the wall and stepped through the crowd. As he stepped up beside Lord Howell he first bowed to the King and Queen and those who sat alongside them, then inclined his head to his fellow Nobleman.
"Your Majesties," he began, his hands folded in front of him. "Lord Howell's concerns are understandable, however, I'd like to add that sleeping dogs do not lie forever. Only the dead do, and the Eldouirs are still very much alive. Not only alive, but fugitives of our own Kings justice and traitors to the crown." He licked his lips, glancing around once and then back to the people above him.
"That said, we do not know the true purpose of the Dresmondi's presence here in Nevermere. So if I may, I'd like to request that whatever information the King deems appropriate to give us, be given to us now so that we might base our opinions and arguments on accurate information rather than assumptions. What have the Desmondi come to Nevermere for, and does it involve the Eldouir?"
Post by Kennet Caern on Oct 29, 2022 13:01:48 GMT -5
Open Court, despite the position she occupied and the authority Cassian had bestowed upon her, still belonged to the men of Nevermere. It was a custom that would change in time, but not overnight, and not while men like Howell still drew breath. There were only so many battles they could wage on so many fronts, and so Kennet lifted her chin and a wry smirk with it, green eyes slipping from the aged frame of Lord Howell to the lords of the court behind him.
Warren Woodwick was hardly the interloper she anticipated, but the surprise made the man’s interjection that much more intriguing. Still standing at the edge of the small dais, Kennet considered the lieutenant before flicking another look over Howell and then broadening her attention to the room at large.
“The Dresmondi,” she remarked with a courtly lilt and a keen smirk, “have come in search of friendship, and the king has opened the castle to them in kind. We shall get to know one another over the course of this season, as we might any envoy who arrives at our gates under such auspices. Of course, Lord Howell—” Kennet looked to the man once more—“we do not seek to provoke, but rather to understand. We did not impress our will upon the Cambrians any more than we did the Coheedsmen. We simply answered their calls for aid and now, should we ever have need of Coheed or Cambria, each stands at our ready. While I daresay His Majesty is far more interested in making history than repeating it, I imagine there’s something to be said for continuing to do what works.” A wry grin carried Kennet’s tease across the hushed murmurs of the court before it descended upon @warren. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Woodwick?”
Lord Howell was exactly the kind of man that Warren didn't care for. A coward, afraid of change. Even now he harbored a bitterness toward the acceptance of Coheed and Cambria. Small minded men who wished to keep their world small instead of expanding it. Truth be told, Warren was indifferent to the idea of the acquisition of Dresmond. If that was what the King sought, he would support it. If it was not, that was just fine as well. What Warren was not indifferent toward was the refusal of the Eldouirs to take responsibility for their actions. Hiram Eldouir had been sentenced to death and by refusing to accept that verdict, he had doomed his entire family. Now they were all complicit in the deaths of soldiers and nobles from both Lorendale and Nevermere. Fugitives of justice.
So as Lady Caern spoke, he gave his attention to her. Though she was vague, her words all but confirmed what Warren had expected. There would be no friendship with a Dresmond under Eldouir rule - how could there be? Meaning that the two had not come at the behest of the Eldouir, but for the sake of the Dresmondi people. They were seeking aid, the question was which kind of aid.
The Lady standing before him was no fool. She had chosen her words carefully, and though his features expressed little, he did nod. "Yes, Lady Caern, I do agree, and I thank you for the information."
Inclining his head once more, he stepped off to the side. Still near enough to remain included in the conversation should others present arguments similar to Lord Howell's, but giving room to the Nobles who might want to bring differing topics to the forefront and leave the discussion of the Dresmondi behind.
Post by Hadrian Usher on Oct 31, 2022 13:36:41 GMT -5
Hadrian, who had been glaring at Lord Howell from the second he opened his mouth, was grateful for @warren’s intervention. Why nobles like Lord Howell felt the need to insert their opinions where they were neither helpful nor wanted was beyond him. Dresmond was a matter of national security. The factors at play were ones that Lord Howell—oblivious as he was—couldn’t possibly understand. Better that governing be left to those with the knowledge and capacity to do so.
After Kennet finished speaking, Hadrian offered Warren a slight appreciative nod. If there was one thing the commander was certain of, it was the Eldouirs were no sleeping dogs. They were a raised axe waiting to fall.
Post by Valeria Delaney on Nov 5, 2022 10:03:02 GMT -5
Valeria eyes fall on this noble and her eyes narrowed like what the fuck? Her hands tighten into her fist like it took all of her power and all of her will not to go out and speak her mind, to this man. Like questioning the kings intent, like the king wouldn't put his subject in harms way like that.
She kept an eye on the man as @warren and Kennet Caern both spoke her eyes looked at both of them for a moment, but she also scan some of the other nobles to see how they respond to Howell Question and how they respond to the answer. The eldouir is of course a threat because of the distruction and pain they can inflict on people and the fact that they are willing and knowingly cause pain in so many ways was beyound her mind.
She just wish there something she can do to help protact her nation but due to her being pregnant there only so much she can do. She have to sit on the side line.