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!
Debris from the attack had been cleared to the edges of the room. Shattered glass and sticky punch still clung to the corners like ocean foam pushed ashore. Despite the earlier chaos, the empty throne room was calm and hollow as a tomb. Once a hall of celebration, now chilled into a chamber of death.
The witches would enter under guard. Any man young enough to carry the werewolf curse had been banished far from the throne room—with the exception of the man who sat on it. Metaphorically, a present. When the witches entered, Cassian Rainecourt stood with a guard of ten witches in a neat line behind them. These ten witches had never been taught the curse and therefore were not subject to suspicion.
The paired and formerly paired witches would be arranged in a similar line opposite the king and his guard with roughly twenty feet between them. All of them would stand as equals, regardless of rank, for they were all to be treated as guilty until the reckless witch revealed herself.
Hadrian Usher would stand in the space between them over the covered form of the dead soldier. The sheet that had been laid over him was speckled with blooms of red blood. Hadrian did not look at them. He instead stared straight ahead at the witches as they filed in. Hadrian’s usual warmth had left his eyes entirely. They were cold and cutting, his jaw clenched in visible and violent rage as the boy lay dead at his feet.
A chest and a chair had been dragged just inside the room. @warren would be asked to take up a place next to it and be ready if he was needed.
You will have 48 hours to establish your character in the scene before Hadrian posts again. If you are unable to hop in, your character will be assumed to be in attendance and be narrated by Rigby.
Last Edit: Mar 13, 2023 8:19:33 GMT -5 by Hadrian Usher
The guard that had been sent to help collect the witches would be the one to lead them in. Warren would come into the room last, behind them, his hand still wrapped around the grip of his sword. He was walking in as blindly as they were, and noticed first that Cassian had already returned. He immediately thought of Regan. Had she already been healed? No, no healing potion would work that quickly. She'd practically been torn apart. But then, who was with her? Was she alone?
She was alive, right?
As the witches were lined up, Warren was informed of his own orders and nodded. He walked to the chair and the chest and stood by them, noticing then that Hadrian had chosen to stand near the covered body of the poor soldier who's head had been torn off. The tension was thick enough to reach out and grab and there was no question why. The greatest military in all of Terra Nova had just suffered it's first loss on it's own lands, and not only did it happen in front of the King and the Captain Commander of said army, but it had happened at the hands of one of their own.
An eye for an eye just didn't seem like it was going to be quite enough.
Kat's hands were clenching, leaving marks on her palms from her fingers. But she had to stay focused and in her prime. Someone would give themselves away, and all the witch could hope was to spot it. Surely the King and Hadrian had plans, they had gathered them all together and were taking it seriously.
There would be a result from this afternoon. Or there would be later that night when she was at home and come up with an adequate way to curse the traitor and heinous person who dared to turn her pair. Her wolf. She had thought all her fellow witches had a sense of decorum in that manner. But apparently not, and so barring a select few, all the witches around her were below her. Not worthy of any respect until proven otherwise.
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 Mar 13, 2023 8:20:21 GMT -5
Cassian had left Regan in Arynn Frey and returned to Nevermere as quickly as he’d left it. There was no time for chatting, no quick meetings in between things. He returned directly to the throne room, his eyes dark and unforgiving, his chiseled jaw sharper than any sword tapping the thighs of his soldiers. He had made it clear to his Captain Commander that he intended to be present for what came next. Additional royal guards had been summoned. All witches. Already their keen eyes surveyed the scene before them, some lips already beginning to move in the beginning of an incantation or a curse.
There would be no mercy for the one responsible. This was a disgrace. An embarrassment. A symptom of a larger problem, no doubt, but the symptom would be handled tonight and the heart of the problem later.
Cassian stood with his feet squared and his hands clasped behind his back.
Bex entered in alongside the other witches who might be responsible for such a disgraceful event. In the chaos of it all Bex saw beauty and life and vibrance and thrill. Had she acted rashly? Surely. Did she regret it? That was still up for debate. She wasn't going to just take it lying down though. She wondered what lay inside that chest but had a few possible guesses.
Watching Kasper leave her behind in that room had only deepened her foul mood. She was not the enemy here, but one of them was. One of their own was now so profoundly distrusted that they had to clear any and all men with the curse away from all of them. She wondered what the deeper repercussions of this would be, for surely there would be some. She was unsure if this was the first time a witch had gone rogue before, or if there had been others before her, but Faylin feared this would end in repercussions for all of them.
She hadn't said a word to anyone since being rounded up with the others, and this didn't change as they entered the throne room again. Her eyes jumped to each and every detail. The chest, the chair, the dead body on the floor. She looked from the Captain Commander to the King before averting her gaze and standing at attention, waiting for whatever was to come.
Post by Alys Delaney on Mar 14, 2023 6:08:47 GMT -5
Alys had found a proper shirt and pair of boots before she had arrived within the room. Filing in with the other witches, she took in what was left as the aftermath of the room. Not in wide wonder, but her eyes cutting to the side and calculating what had gone wrong along the way to cause such a thing. But this was only after her eyes immediately went to Cassian Rainecourt and then to his side. Where Regan Lassiter was not. Her jaw tightening to keep her from asking. Though if Cassian caught her gaze, it would show her concern.
But as they came to fall into a line, her eyes landing on the body of the young soldier. Had she known him? Trained with him? How was the soldier who was changed? So many questions and she had to swallow the anger that seemed to be really pushed to its edges this evening for some reason. One of the witches at her sides was responsible… and there would be consequences.
Post by Hadrian Usher on Mar 16, 2023 10:55:14 GMT -5
Once the witches were standing at attention, Hadrian let the tomb-like silence sink in like a damp winter chill. His gaze traveled over the witches, stormy eyes fixing on each one with a hard, scrutinizing stare before removing on to the next. If they met his gaze, it would be noted. If they didn’t, well that would be noted too. Hadrian’s eyes lingered a little longer on Alys than the others, though it was not at all an indication of suspicion. It was simply a realization that there was still a werewolf among them.
Hadrian turned his attention to the entire group.
“Discipline. Honor. Self-sacrifice. Each of you was selected to be paired witches because it was believed you exemplified these qualities. It was to you the shifting curse was entrusted because I and those before me believed that Nevermere would be safer for it.” A tempo built in Hadrian’s speech, rolling in on the horizon like black thunder.
“But today that trust was broken. When one chooses chaos over discipline, indulges evil, and wields magic as a reckless, self-serving instrument, this is what happens.” Hadrian reached down and whipped the sheet off the boy’s corpse. It was a grisly sight. His body was bent, his empty eyes staring crookedly up at the ceiling from his severed head. Hadrian glared at them now, roiling with rage.
“The offending witch will be granted one opportunity to step forward. That time is now.” Hadrian stepped back, gaze traveling across the assembled witches.
Her attention was trained on the Captain Commander, his angered speech bolstering her own disgust in whoever had committed this crime. As such, she noticed how his gaze lingered on the King's Witch and she came to the same realization that there was indeed a wolf among them. But she had, seemingly, controlled her own shift. Did that still make her a threat?
Faylin's jaw clenched at the unknown as she, too, scanned her fellow witches, waiting for the one among them to at least try to save their honor by stepping forward.
Last Edit: Mar 16, 2023 13:01:22 GMT -5 by Deleted
If her original plan had worked out, this would be the moment when Rigby Baker would have stepped forward with a tearful admission of guilt. Alas, that was not to be so. While Hadrian began his lecture speech, Bex began a curse. She was oh so careful of course. Her lips were parted just slightly, nothing to draw suspicion, not unlike a ventriloquist. She spoke the curse slowly one word at a time, intentionally timing it when Hadrian's eyes were not on hers and too far away for any small lip twitch to be seen by the King or his entourage of witches, the sound not even carrying beyond the tip of her nose. All good curses took time and this one had to be perfect.
All the while she acted the same as the other witches around her, appearing stern and outraged. When the body was unveiled Bex felt...elated. She hadn't fully expected that. To see the damage that had been done because of her. Damage against a man, even if that man was still more like a boy. It felt, well, exhilarating. As the question was asked by Hadrian, one final offer. Though for what? Would the end result change if one admitted guilt now? She doubted it. She looked among her fellow witches with a scrutinizing gaze. How much easier this would have been if one of them stepped forward.
There was zero chance that anyone was going to admit to this. Kat knew it, and she was sure all the others around her did. This was going to be a slow and painful process. Whoever had done this had not a moral fiber in their body. They all dipped into the darkness, but to toy with lives to easily, was a different level.
So Kat payed little to no mind to Hadrian and his plea, it was ridiculous. No instead her eyes and ears were open as she stood next to Bex, swearing she heard the witch muttering but thinking nothing of it other than disappointment in those she was in charge of. Surely she would help Kat get her revenge later if they weren't harsh enough here. Certainly not goody-two shoes Faylin, but at least she didn't have to wonder if it was her.
Warren had his eyes on the witches as well, moving them down the line of women to gauge their reactions to Hadrian's commands. He stood still and ready, but even he wasn't sure of what to expect. He had come to know many of these witches in one way or another, and couldn't imagine any one of them betraying their own; but that was a reality he would have to accept, whenever the witch was finally revealed.
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 Mar 17, 2023 12:27:54 GMT -5
The king, too, let his eyes scour the faces. Each of his royal guards did the same. It was not uncommon for a witch to subtly begin a chant, just as some of them had already begun. It was for this reason that one woman in particular took special interest in Bex. Even a ventriloquist's lips twitched. Unsure of herself, the witch did not move forward to draw attention, but her gaze on the short-haired woman did not falter, and her mouth moved quickly and freely to begin a curse of her own, a curse that would, when finished, prevent its victim from speaking for th next five minutes. The curse would not finish until the witch completed it, and she would not complete it until she had a reason to.
Post by Alys Delaney on Mar 17, 2023 22:50:07 GMT -5
Alys, standing on the end of the row, didn’t flinch as the body was revealed, but her face softened into a sadness. A life lost especially in such a manner as it was was a massive blow to any military. What should have been a night of fun and drinking and dancing… now had them standing with a captian commander and king who looked like they would be beheading someone tonight for their treason.
No one stepped forward when they were asked. Not one. Which made frustration course through her, glad to be standing next to some witch whose name she didn’t know off the top of her head. Though the witch seemed to be glancing between the scene before them and Alys… as if she didn’t know who was the bigger threat.
She wanted to step forward and help with the interrogation, but knew she’d need to be cleared first. So the silence rang out, her hands twitching slightly as her wolf still prowled dangerously close to the edge.
Post by Hadrian Usher on Mar 19, 2023 16:36:08 GMT -5
Hadrian was scanning the faces of the assembled witches, trying both to intimidate them and scrutinize their expressions. He’d come to know most of these witches, at least as well as was possible given the number of soldiers under his command. And, knowing them, he would like to think the offending witch would feel guilt for what she’d done—particularly when confronted with the deadly consequences of her actions.
Hadrian’s eyes stopped when they fell on @bex . Though the witch had taken precautions not to be discovered, casting a spell was still something that required speaking aloud. With so few in a room so silent a pin could drop, the oddities in Bex’s expression were detectable—though by Hadrian, not recognized exactly for what they were. Perhaps it was a wrinkle of guilt showing through on her face, one that Hadrian was interested to peel back.
“Alright,” Hadrian said, eyes on Bex, “We start with you.” Hadrian beckoned to Warren and another guard. One would lift the small chest and bring it forward while motioning for Warren to bring the chair.