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!
When Lady Lilian Johnson stormed, at least as much as any woman of her status stooped to such barbaric behavior, into the military wing in search of a scapegoat, Berengar Stormcrest was blissfully ignorant of her arrival. While she accosted the nearest servant or soldier - at this juncture, one would serve her just as well as the other - and demanded that they take her to Lieutenant Woodwick’s office, he was leaning against the wall of a different courtyard beside Evangeline. As she knocked on the lieutenant’s door, he laughed at something his companion said, attention resting more on her than it was the two twelve year olds that they were technically watching.
With all of the entitlement of a noblewoman accustomed to having her way, Lilian deigned to knock briefly on the closed door but did not wait for an invitation to enter before opening it and stepping across the threshold. If he had time, Lieutenant Woodwick would speaking with her now; if he didn’t have time, he would make it. They all owed her that much, after what they did to her and what they put her through.
Loftily she surveyed the office, taking in the space and finding it lacking compared to the luxury of her everyday life. Well, that was hardly surprising. “I am Lady Lilian Johnson.” Despite her presumptuous actions, her tone was not overly rude. As imperious as any noblewoman’s perhaps, but lacking the disgust it might have held were she addressing a commoner on the street. “You are Lieutenant Woodwick?” A pause as she waited for confirmation. Then, with venom in her voice: “Your negligence killed my daughter.”
Warren had been preparing for this. Really, he'd expected Lady Johnson to arrive a little sooner than she had. He'd already spoken to the appropriate parties and given proof that the he, his soldiers, and the military were not at fault, and had been deemed worthy of handling the matter himself. He'd hoped someone else would take it off his hands, but that was not to be. His soldiers had been the ones to take the brunt of the woman's complaints, and they had rightfully pointed her toward their superior. It didn't make this any less difficult.
"I am Lieutenant Warren Woodwick, yes," he confirmed, already standing up from his chair as she came in and introduced herself. He bowed his head to her, and then turned his eyes to Aveline. Although they had already discussed what was to be done, she still looked a little surprised by the woman. Maybe not surprised. Maybe disgusted. Warren caught that and, with a look, ensured the expression was gone before Lady Johnson could see it. "Lady Aveline?" He said simply, and she nodded. Once stood, she gave Lady Johnson a more than fair curtsy, and exited the room, closing the door behind herself. Warren walked around his desk and pulled the opposing chair out, offering it to the woman. "I heard of your daughters passing, Lady Johnson, and I'm terribly sorry for your loss. Please, have a seat and we can discuss this."
Lady Aveline's first stop was to the nearest servant, to request tea be made and brought to the office. Immediately after, she began scouring the military wing to find two soldiers. She found Berengar first, and then Zarha. To each she explained that Lady Johnson had arrived and was waiting in Warren's office. That she would likely be requesting their presence, and they were to come to Warren's office immediately and wait outside until they were called upon. Aveline would walk with them back to the office, and wait outside as well until the servant arrived with the tea.
Zarha was starting to think that Lady Johnson forgot about her threat of seeking out Warren. Like she was taken her time, however when Warren's assistant came. Her heart dropped a bit but she nodded as she followed back to Warren's office. Even though she did nothing wrong, this is like being punished for something neither her or Ber could helped. However, if she start blaming them Zarha was more then willing the blunt of the blame.
Zarha waited outside and just looked down to the ground waiting to go in or here the verdict.
After he had washed the blood off himself and donned clean clothes, Ber had given no thought to Lady Johnson or her daughter’s troubling fate, dismissing the entire exchange as an unpleasant but inevitable part of life. Instead, he had hung out with Duncan, sparred with Zevran, and sought Evangeline’s company while doing his best to avoid the attention of her keen-eyed uncle who had made his opinion on their blossoming friendship clear. So when he saw Lady Aveline approaching them from across the courtyard, Ber’s eyes narrowed slightly - was Woodwick really using his assistant to keep an eye on them? - but her appearance turned out to be entirely unrelated to his present company.
With a sigh, he pushed off the wall and ran a hand down his face. He asked Aveline if she was sure he had to be there. She was sure. After promising to tell Evie the whole story later, he reluctantly followed Woodwick’s assistant as they collected Sliva - this just keeps getting better and better - and were deposited outside the lieutenant’s office like wayward children waiting to be collected from training. Crossing his arms as he settled back against the wall, Ber broke his annoyed silence just long enough to mutter, “This is stupid.”
———
Inside the office, Lilian Johnson had barely glanced toward the young lady’s curtsy, let alone properly acknowledge it or its owner’s existence. As she looked at the man responsible for her daughter’s untimely end, she could feel the smoldering embers of her ire begin to blaze back to life. He stood there as if he did not have her blood on his hands, offered her a seat as if this were just another conversation over tea, and had the gall to suggest that they discuss matters as if he was remotely her equal.
Lady Johnson would not be having a seat, thank you very much.
Stepping forward like a lioness hunting her prey, she rested her hands on the back of the chair and said, “I don’t see how there is anything to discuss.” If looks could kill, Warren Woodwick would have been dead many times over. “It’s very straightforward. I sent in a request for assistance in removing this beasts from my home. You ignored it. Only after one of them ravaged my daughter did you deign to send soldiers to my door.” Of course, by that point, it was too late. “My daughter is dead because of you.” And someone had to pay.
Warren merely nodded when she moved behind the seat instead of into it. The expression on his face remained the same as she berated him and blamed him for the loss of her daughter. He moved back around his desk, opting to remain standing as she had done. He calmly pulled a roll of two or three parchments from a drawer in his desk and rested on top of the desk, just in front of him. He left them there, though, ready to be used when he needed them but only then.
"What has happened to your daughter is terribly unfortunate, Lady Johnson, and I understand why you felt the need to come here. If you would like to make an official complaint, I am more than happy to help you do that. However, I thought it best we go over the details of the situation together so that we can avoid making any mistakes."
Before Lady Johnson could continue, the servant returned with the tea. Lady Aveline, still outside with Ber and Zarha, took the tray from her and entered the office quietly. She brought the tea over to the desk, which ever side the two were standing furthest away from, and began to pour two cups. She made Warren's as he normally took it and handed it to him. He took it and rested it on the desk, next to the roll of parchment he'd taken out moments ago. Lady Johnson's cup of tea remained in the tray, though Lady Aveline did push it over closer to her. "Please, have your tea as you like it, my lady," Aveline said. Then she treated to the door and stood by it, ready to bring Ber and Zarha in when necessary.
"I'd first like to go over some key details, Lady Johnson," Warren said. "The soldiers whom I sent to your home to gather details about the dogs did exactly as asked, is that not true? They spoke directly to your daughter, then located the dogs. I can confirm that the entirety of the pack has been destroyed, as many of them carried the sickness which your daughter succumbed to. Do you have any complaints regarding their service?"
Zarha was leaning against the wall. She hates just standing around, but she just runs through what Warren said to her when she was eating with him and his mum. This is good training. training. Even though her hands was shaking. She doesn't know why she is nervous. Warren promised that they won't get into trouble, yet she feels like she is on the naughty step/ Forbidden to train for weeks.
She looked at Ber as he muttered that it sucks. "I do not know why he needs us if we just stand around like lost children?" Zarha said quietly. She watch as a servant went to fetch tea and brought it back.
She looked at the door just wanting to know what is happening. Be patient Zarha, don't respond to what Lady Johnson say, let Woodwick speak to her. Unless Woodwick ask them questions.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Ber grumbled, eyes on the approaching servant who was carrying a tray of— was that tea? Brow furrowed slightly, he leaned forward slightly, watching with no small amount of incredulity as Lady Aveline stepped forward to receive the tray and disappeared without a word back into the office. The door clicked shut behind her. Ber leaned back against the wall with a sigh and an eye roll, shaking his head. This was stupid and ridiculous.
——
What Warren Woodwick suggested was reasonable: go over the details of the situation, then offer to assist with an official complaint. What Warren Woodwick had overlooked, or perhaps simply not acknowledged, was that the loss of a child could not be reasoned with and the crime that led to it could not be reasoned away. The death of her daughter had hollowed out Lilian Johnson and filled the cavernous space with a righteous, impotent fury that demanded recompense.
The display with the tea, which sat ignored on the tray, the attempted discussion of the quality of service rendered by the two soldiers memorable only for their value as scapegoats, the confirmation that the pack of beasts was destroyed - all of it was too little, too late. Far too little. Far too late.
“Is that what you have to offer me?” She did not shout, but venom laced her voice all the same. “Am I to take comfort in a pack of dead dogs? My daughter is dead, Lieutenant, and that is because those capable of protecting my child failed to do so. Our neighborhood is supposed to be safe. You are supposed to make it safe." Lady Johnson fixed Woodwick with the icy, painful stare of grieving fury. "I hope you understand, Lieutenant, that every time I hear the bark of a stray mongrel, from now until my last breath, I will think of what has been stolen from me.” Then, with words as cold and unyielding as steel, she laid bare the reason for her visit:
“Your carelessness killed my daughter, and I will not leave until reparations are made."
In times like these, Warren thought of people like his mother, Alinore Thornhill, and Kennet Caern. It was unlikely that Lady Johnson's words, filled with all their venom, would affect any of them in the slightest. Or rather, that they would ever allow anyone to see that affect. He had been preparing for her visit for some time and yet he still felt under-prepared. He was a man capable of preparing young men and women for war, for pain, for death itself. But dealing with an angry, grieving noble was it's own kind of purgatory.
He knew, at the very least, he had to keep his own feelings toward the matter to himself. As difficult as that was. Every word she spoke stabbed at him, prodded at the anger pushed deep down in his own mind. He knew her anger, that was the real issue. Because as much as she wanted to blame him for what had happened, the true blame was clear. "I do understand, Lady Johnson," Warren spoke through slow, deep breaths. "But the matter of payment of reparations is not up to me. That must be decided by someone of higher rank than myself. I can, however, help you with that complaint." A slow and steady reiteration of his previous statement.
"There is a process. Once your complaint is decided upon, should it be decided in your favor, then surely you would be compensated. Therefore, the best course of action for us right now would be for us to go through the actions taken step by step, document the issues you had with each step, and then file the complaint." Seeing that Lady Johnson would not have any of the tea, nor would she sit down, Lady Aveline slipped back out of the office.
"She's a peach," Aveline said, shrugging her shoulders to Ber and Zarha, before disappearing on her next task.
"So, as I said before," Warren began. "The only soldiers that came to you directly would have been the two sent to your home to speak with your daughter. Do you feel that they carried out their tasks in an acceptable manner?"
Post by Zarha Sliva on Jan 12, 2023 6:59:27 GMT -5
Zarha looked at Ber for a moment. "I trust you Ber." Even though the words came out soft like a mouse only loud enough for him to hear, the truth of it was clear in her eyes. The truth of yes i know I been a bitch, i know you possible hate me, but the realization that she cannot live like that. Like there are time where being a bitch is needed, where being firm is wanted and necessary. The look that she knows she isn't perfect and possible will never be perfect. "I am sorry for denying you the chance of a proper victory when we spared." There was more apologies under there but it would take all day to list them all.
Plus Aveline walked out and spoke, her comment made a small smile show on her face. "Oh isn't she just." She give a small joke as she walked past.
What the— When Sliva spoke up with an admission and an apology he neither asked for nor wanted, Ber looked up momentarily from where he’d been counting the stones in the floor of the hall. “Fantastic,” He deadpanned, intentionally cutting any attempt at further conversation short because the only thing worse than being trapped outside Woodwick’s office with Sliva would be being trapped outside Woodwick’s office with Sliva while she talked about her feelings.
The sound of the door opening saved him. Dark eyes found Lady Aveline, who informed them that Lady Johnson was every bit the menace he expected she would be, but Woodwick’s assistant walked away before he could ask the question that he really cared about: could he go now? He looked at Sliva, at Aveline’s departing form, then back at the floor to resume his counting. A moment passed. Was he at twenty-five or twenty-six? Or was it twenty-seven? With an internal sigh, he turned his attention back down the hall. One. Two. Three…
———
Oh, he understood, did he? If her voice was glacial before, it hit absolute zero now. “You understand, Lieutenant,” She repeated flatly, leaping on the single word like a wolf on a wounded rabbit. “How could you possibly hope to understand the horrors you have forced me to endure?” With every word, her voice grew more dangerous until reaching the restrained lethality - even at the height of anger, nobles such as her did not stoop to screaming like barbarians - of an absolutely livid noblewoman.
Lilian Johnson had spent her entire life untouchable, lifted high above the rest by the virtue of her birth. Every morning, she rose to find that wealth and privilege had insulated her from the worst of the world, that the tragedies of life happened to other people - lesser people. Then one day, she found that the rope to her refuge had been cut. Without warning, she was plummeting through the air in a spiraling free-fall she had no hope of controlling. And the man standing before her, stone in the face of a raging storm, was one of those responsible for the upheaval of her world.
“If you cannot to help me,” Lilian said. “Then why, Lieutenant, am I speaking to you and not someone of higher rank?” Fingers clenched, white knuckled, on the back of the chair in which she refused to sit. “I am not interested in filing a complaint.” She was above such bureaucratic nonsense. “I will not stand for such disregard for my family’s well-being, be it from you or the two children you sent to my door.” She did not want his insulting attempt at understanding. She did not want to follow his process. She wanted him and those two soldiers to feel what it was like to have the rug yanked unfairly, needlessly out from under their feet and know that their pain was only a modicum of the grief she felt.
He walked around his desk once more, passing Lady Johnson by and pulling the door to the office open. Lady Aveline had not yet returned, but he wasn't looking for her. "Mr. Stormcrest, Ms. Sliva, please come, stand to the right."
Once they were inside, he would once more shut the door. He returned to his desk, took the rolled up parchments he'd removed from his drawer earlier, and unrolled them. Handing one of them to Ber, he stood just to the side of them. There was going to be no calming the woman, or pleasing her, so he'd move right into what he had planned anyway, which was the going over of the events that had happened.
"Lady Johnson, these are the soldiers who you speak of, correct? Ms. Zarha Sliva and Mr. Berengar Stormcrest?" Once confirmed, he would look to Ber. "I would like you and Ms. Sliva to read over that report, to yourselves, and confirm out loud whether or not the details match what you told me happened on the day you went to hunt down the dogs."
While the two read over the report, which was more or less word for word what Zarha and Ber had reported to him that day, he picked up another parchment from the roll and held it in his hands, eyes glossing over it quickly to ensure it was as he thought.
While they did this, Lady Aveline returned. She met Warren's eyes and nodded, and once more took up her place near the door, close to her own desk.
Post by Zarha Sliva on Jan 13, 2023 15:20:05 GMT -5
Zarha eyes looked in the direction of Warren as he opened his office door. Come in? Her heart was racing as she nodded as she walked in she bowed her head slightly to Lady Johnson and went to the right and stood there.
She watched as Warren move behind his desk as she kept her hand behind her back and she stood in silence waiting for Warren to ask any questions in the direction. Sure enough he did as he passed the report over to them. She looked at Warren he knows that she taken reading lessons however she looked over the papers there are some words she struggled with but the gist of it made sense.
She looked up. "Yes Lieutenant, it match up." She stood up straight.
Distracted once more from his counting, Ber looked up as the door opened to see Woodwick summoning them. Quietly, he followed Sliva inside and stood where directed, glancing around as he did so. In the silence that had followed her declaration, Lady Johnson had watched as the lieutenant passed by her to usher in the two soldiers, and her gaze flicked momentarily to each of their faces as they entered. The utter loathing that Ber saw in her gaze sent a chill down his spine.
In retrospect, the hallway didn’t seem that bad.
Their identities were confirmed with the slightest, imperious nod that the soldier only noticed because he was watching the woman like a mouse eyed a cat, even as he accepted the parchment from Woodwick. Only when the lieutenant spoke to them did he glance over at the other man then down to see what it was that he had been handed. Indeed, it appeared to be a report.
After another glance at the noblewoman, Ber began to read - and made it about five words before he made the executive decision that he had read enough. His gaze skipped to the end of the text, catching the occasional word on the way but otherwise skittering over everything else. Yep, it all looked good. Dark eyes slid to the side to see that Sliva appeared to actually be reading the report before returning to his own paper with faux studiousness. Only when she confirmed that it matched - only when he knew a reasonable amount of time to have completed the reading had passed - did he look up and add his own agreement: “This is correct, sir.”
Cautiously, he considered the noblewoman, who had returned to ignoring them in favor of glaring daggers at Woodwick. She appeared, if anything, even more outraged with the entire display, as she demanded, “Well? What is this?”
If Ber could have disappeared into the stone, he would have done so in a heartbeat.
With the soldiers confirmation, Warren retrieved the parchments he had given to them and placed them neatly in the middle of a stack of five other parchments. Once they were neatly together, he offered them to Lady Johnson.
"The top most of those parchments is the request you sent in earlier this season to have the pack of wild dogs removed from your neighborhood, Lady Johnson. I'm certain you'll recognize it, as it is not a copy, but the original in your own writing. You stated that the dogs had been causing trouble, seemed aggressive and dangerous, and you wished to have them removed. The next two parchments are reports from the pair of soldiers I sent, twice, to follow up on your complaints. If you note the date, the first is a mere day after I received your complaint. The next is some seven days after."
He doubted that would be enough to explain his intent, so he continued. "I sent two soldiers to frighten the dogs away and place traps in the nearby wooded area. Those soldiers did not come into contact with you because at the time, it was not necessary for them to speak directly with the person who filed the request. They found the pack, scared them off, and set the traps. None of the dogs appeared to be aggressive or sick at the time, as per their report."
"In the follow up visit, the pack was nowhere to be found in or around the neighborhood, but one had been caught in one of the traps. The same soldiers put the dog out of it's misery, pulled up the traps as is customary so that trapped wildlife will not lure more dangerous predators to the area, and left."
"By the time the dogs returned and your daughter was bitten, the soldiers whom I'd sent before were rotated into a duty in Cambria, therefore they are not here at the moment to confirm these findings. That is why I sent these two soldiers, Mr. Stormcrest and Ms. Sliva, to follow up once more. They spoke with your daughter, sought out the dogs, and destroyed them. I later sent two more soldiers out to scour the area and make sure that all of the other dogs in the pack were found and destroyed as well. What they found while there was that one of your neighbors, a young boy, had been feeding the dogs. That is why they returned. Every report of these incidents is in your hands. My soldiers and I did as requested based on the information we had. We are not and cannot be expected to be omniscient."
That much he said with a stern voice, making it very clear. "If you would like to file that complaint, you may do so. I will give it personally to Captain Commander Hadrian Usher, with whom you can then schedule an appointment to meet. If he should decide that my resignation is required, I will oblige. These soldiers, however," he gestured to Ber and Zarha. "Did their jobs as asked, so no punishments will come to them regardless of your complaint. The fault lies with their superior, and that is me. So, as I've asked many times, would you like to sit down and file a proper complaint?"
Post by Zarha Sliva on Jan 14, 2023 19:19:41 GMT -5
Zarha stood there eyes forward hands behind her back as she listened to Warren, she looked at Warren now and then and take in how he spoke to her. He was defending them. He did promise that he would be defending them and she is grateful. She have heard some Lieutanent who wouldn't stand up for their soldiers and she heard sometime would see them take the blame then see a innocent party let go.
However, here is Warren standing up for her and Ber.