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 his peripherals, he noticed Abbott shifting in his seat, but he paid it little mind until the lieutenant spoke, demanding an answer for what Ber had assumed was a pointed rhetorical question. Apparently not so rhetorical after all. With the weight of the other man’s gaze boring into the side of his head, he cast a glance at Abbott before he told the whiskey bottle, “I wasn’t.”
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 7, 2023 12:19:32 GMT -5
Aldrich nodded, moving his body back to its original position and placing his feet back on the chair. "That's what I thought." His brows had lowered themselves on his face, making him look serious and slightly annoyed (kind of just like Ber looks in his picture lol). "Now drink up and stop complaining." While Aldrich respected the combat side of Berengar being a soldier, he didn't much like the man's personality and behaviour. Especially not when he started to get smart with him. He should be glad that Aldrich let him drink while on duty. The loud group laughed again, which caught the Lieutenant's attention. But they still behaved normally, and intervening wasn't necessary. The man took his cigarettes out of the pocket of his coat and lit one, laying the pack down on the table. Berengar was good at getting on his nerves.
Drink up and stop complaining? That statement all but confirmed that Abbott was encouraging him to drink on the job, and Ber almost wouldn’t have minded another officer showing up so he could ask them what in Terra Nova was happening. He’s seen officers regularly reprimanding anyone who got caught hungover at work. Why was a lieutenant actively telling Ber to risk impairment now?
It made no sense, but clearly, Abbott did not have any intentions of entertaining questions about it. Somewhat suspicious and more than a little annoyed, Ber reached out and silently took another couple swallows of his whiskey before setting the glass pointedly down on the table. While Abbott lit his cigarette, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, looking out at the other occupants of the tavern again.
They could just not talk then. Silence suited Ber just fine.
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 7, 2023 12:55:04 GMT -5
Berengar was probably one of the only soldiers to ever listen to the rule of not coming back from a job drunk, or wake up hungover. Aldrich wasn't about to snitch on Stormcrest if he decided to drink more, but he wasn't going to voice that out loud.
He saw that the kid took a few more sips, and didn't say anything. The rest of the bottle was almost calling his name, asking him to be finished by him. He tried to focus on anything else.
It seemed like Berengar was too suspicious of him for his plan to succeed. If only this kid didn't live by the rules so much, and would get drunk. He had wanted to ask Berengar questions, and had assumed Ber would be more honest and open with him if he had more alcohol in his system.
Aldrich kept looking at the people in the room, but spoke again. "Alright, let's cut the crap, Stormcrest. Tell me what's going on with you and this fear for werewolves. I've tried to ask nicely, but if you don't tell me now, I'll get the medics and the Captain Commander involved."
Abbott wasn’t wrong. Alcohol had a way of loosening the tongue, Ber’s included, but the soldier’s willingness to push the boundaries generally remained limited to those rules he knew he could get away with stretching. Getting drunk in front of an officer while they were on duty was not something he would be able to hide, if only because Abbott was sitting right beside him, watching exactly how much whiskey Ber consumed.
The silence was preferable to stilted small talk or pointed rebukes for asking too many questions anyway. If he ignored the cigarette smoke and kept his attention focused on the rest of the room, Ber could almost pretend he was sitting here alone.
Then Abbott broke the peace, and suddenly, that bottle of whiskey looked a lot more inviting. This, again? And with the added threat of the medics and the captain commander? Expression flattening once more, Ber took a deep breath and bit back his first response in favor of a slightly less prickly, “I told you before: nothing. I’m fine.” What was Abbott so worried about anyway? Clearly Ber could still do his job. “I talked to Wulfbrand, and you saw me yesterday.” He’d even done well, he thought, managing to disarm Fletcher, even if the other soldier had been outmatched. Ber had no expectations that it would get him off staff duty since what put him there had technically been unrelated to any fighting ability, but to him, it was example enough that he could not only hold his own in combat but win.
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 7, 2023 14:03:24 GMT -5
Aldrich rubbed his face, not because he was annoyed, but because he was tired. Not physically, but mentally. He didn't say anything for a while after Berengar had spoken. The fact that the threat didn't make the young man say more than he had said before, oddly put him at ease a bit. This probably meant it wasn't as deep as he thought. He could only hope that was true. Eventually, after a few minutes, he spoke again. "But did you speak about that night?" he looked at Ber again, with curiousity. "You have to understand, I don't grill you about this for my personal pleasure. We have to make sure you're alright, and that you won't freeze on the battlefield when your brothers in arms are turned into werewolves by the witches." If Ber had some sense in him, he would understand that this was a reasonable fear that the superiors had. He hadn't spoken to anyone about it yet, but he had put it as a sidenote in his letter to Usher. Berengar had indeed proven that he could still do his job, and he had done a good job during the assessment, but no werewolves had been involved in it either.
His answer seemed to appease Abbot. Silence fell, and just as Ber dared to hope that maybe that would have sufficed, the lieutenant spoke again.
“Wulfbrand didn’t do much talking at all,” Ber said, glancing at the lieutenant. “But yes, that came up.” The soldier didn’t much care why Abbott keep asking as much as he did that Abbott stopped asking. In the last discussion about this, Ber had made the point that he couldn’t start a war to prove to the lieutenant that he was fine, and nothing with regards to that specific state of being had changed in the interim. If they were so worried, they could have someone change into a werewolf in front of him, but even though Ber had decided he was fine, he had no desire to be anywhere near a werewolf anyway.
Abbott and whoever else was worried could figure that one out for themselves. He saw no reason to help them make his life more difficult than it already was.
However, the mention of the battlefields of war caught his attention for a different reason. “Who knows what’s going to happen to anyone when we go against the Eldouir,” He said, testing the waters even as he made his point. No one his age or younger - or even that much older - had seen any sort of combat on the scale they could expect to encounter in Dresmond. “But I’m fine.”
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 7, 2023 15:20:23 GMT -5
He caught Ber's gaze in the midst of the glance. "And what about it, then?" he asked. He wished this kid would just talk without him having to pry the answers out of him. It annoyed him that Berengar acted like all of this wasn't something to be bothered about. If they were on the battlefield, and he froze, then there was no time to help him. He would be mauled by an enemy before anyone could help him. But Aldrich was done trying to do the right thing and help. He would inform other's about this fear he suspected, and would take his hands off it. He couldn't possibly help each individual soldier with their issues. If Berengar provided him with little information now after this question, then that would be it.
Aldrich glared at the kid when he turned into a smart-mouth again. These brats exhausted him. "They won't be prepared for what's coming for them. Especially not if you learn how to behave and get off staff duty." He gave the kid a lecturing look.
When he glanced over at Abbott, he unintentionally ended up meeting the officer’s gaze. The other man asked for the details of Ber’s conversation with Wulfbrand, and the soldier shifted, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for his glass. After a moment, he through back the remainder of its contents before setting the glass down, resting his forearms on the table, and looking at the lieutenant. Fine. If it would get Abbott off his case, Ber would tell him the specifics of their unremarkable conversation. “I told him I didn’t blame him for what happened and that it wasn’t his fault and that she could have turned any of us.” A pause. “He thanked me.”
Despite the glare leveled at him by the lieutenant, Ber held the other man’s gaze and felt a flicker of satisfaction. Abbott had not denied fighting the Eldouir, which meant that, even after everything, they were still going to war in Dresmond. When Valana had mentioned being sent to Coheed, the seed of doubt had been planted, and it had only grown with time, watered especially by the culling of their forces and Zevran’s absence. Although Ber remained as ignorant as before about the timeline of war, the knowledge that they were still going to help the Dresmondi trapped in Elderkeep was good enough for now.
That relief tempered the narrow-eyed gaze he shot back at Abbott for the comment about getting off staff duty. Woodwick, Abbott, Terach - it was like they all worked together or something to figure how to be needlessly irritating. Or maybe it just came naturally to them. It certainly did for Winters, and she was an officer now, too.
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 8, 2023 7:28:45 GMT -5
At least that had actually talked about what had happened. He had feared that Berengar would just avoid Octavius unless he absolutely had to talk to the soldier, but it was good that he had listened to Aldrich. "Good", he said. Short and simple. Now another sip of whiskey.
The non-verbal communication between these two was strong. Shortly after Aldrich's glare, Berengar shot a look back at him once he had mentioned getting off staff duty. It amused the man, and the corner of his mouth lifted. He hid this by taking another sip of the whiskey.
"Are you nervous for the Commander's new marching orders?" he then asked, keeping his focus on the room.
Ber had hoped that his information about the conversation with Wulfbrand would appease the lieutenant and that would be that. Abbott seemed satisfied, but apparently, the inquisition continued.
“No,” He said simply, and it was mostly true. Although he couldn’t help the little coil of uncertainty that inherently accompanied assessments such as these, Ber had seen enough of the other soldiers fight the day before to safely assume that he wouldn’t be among the worst, and that was all he’d needed. As long as he still had a place in the military, his options were likely limited to staying in Skia or deployment to Coheed or possibly Cambria. The best case scenario would be an announcement sending them all to Dresmond. The worst would be more time on staff duty.
He cast a glance at Abbott and decided to risk a question. After all, the lieutenant had asked plenty of them himself; it was Ber’s turn. “Should I be?”
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 8, 2023 14:15:10 GMT -5
While it only took a short moment in real time, a lot of thoughts rushed through his head. Did the soldiers have to worry about the new marching orders? He didn't think they had to be, but then again, Commander Usher could be unpredictable. Especially after the ball. But Aldrich shook his head lightly. "No. Your performance during the assessment was good. If it hadn't been for Fletcher, you could've showed us even more. I'm already glad your shoulder is healing okay." He grunted when he noticed that his cigarette had burn out while he wasn't taking puffs from it. He put it in the ashtray and scratched his neck. He was running out of things to say, but didn't want to admit it to Berengar. He didn't want to give the satisfaction of it.
Yeah, that was what he thought. Though he had evidently hidden it successfully from Abbott, a hint of a challenge had briefly flickered in Ber’s chest as his gaze slid to the lieutenant and he voiced his innocuous question. While the soldier hardly posed a threat in any capacity to his superior, he still knew damn well who of the two of them had control over what crossed the captain commander’s desk. Who to point the finger at if his decent performance at the assessment had, for whatever reason, been written up in a negative light.
With that settled, he nodded again at Abbott and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms again. Then, enjoying the silence while it lasted, he turned his attention back toward the rest of the tavern.
Post by Aldrich Abbott on May 9, 2023 14:06:47 GMT -5
Perhaps it wasn't bad that there was some silence. They had a long night ahead of them, and there would plenty of time to talk. He want the best at reading people but he could tell that Berengar liked to be left alone, and that he enjoyed the silence. He didn't want to think about the reasons why he enjoyed the silence so much, mostly because he didn't really care. The man poured himself another glass of whiskey, but a small one this time. He turned towards the room as well. He wondered if there would be troublemakers tonight. Apparently the Sour Sailboat had become the location for a little gang of troublemakers.
We won't call it quits. We'll call it the start.
Last Edit: May 10, 2023 6:20:29 GMT -5 by Aldrich Abbott
As the silence continued, Ber watched the room. A full table of five, the laughing group remained the largest and loudest, but scattered along the edges of the tavern sat a handful of other tables who appeared to be getting well into their drinks now. He had turned his attention to the individuals seated at those tables when suddenly the chorus of laughter from the first group turned mean. Straightening up slightly, he looked back toward them, then muttered, “Be right back,” before scooping up his empty glass and making his way casually across the room to the bar.
Movement - and the reprieve it earned him from Abbott’s perpetually trying company - felt nice after the time spent sitting in the corner. Ber slid the glass across the bar’s wooden surface to the barkeep and asked for some water. While he waited, he turned to face the room and leaned back against the bar with his arms crossed. Though he kept his expression neutral, his gaze never left the group of five seated nearby.
In the military wing, Ber sat at the bottom of the totem pole, but that changed in the city proper, where his profession earned him some amount of deference. Tonight, his uniform made clear his purpose here, and having been on the receiving end of such a tactic many a time, he knew how often the silent threat of an authority’s presence prevented trouble before it even started.
Tucked away in the corner, he and Abbott had been out of sight and out of mind. Now, as he sipped lightly at his water and openly watched the rowdiest group in the room, he made sure he was noticed.