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 Jan 15, 2024 13:29:04 GMT -5
The mayor’s demeanor was calm, but the hunter’s was not. He sat across from them with obvious agitation and suspicion, wrinkling his nose as if they’d brought the foul stench of death with them. The mayor was not idle, however. He was picking Cassian and Regan apart for visual clues before speaking.
“It’s not often we get visitors this far north.” It was an invitation for an explanation.
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 Jan 16, 2024 11:02:34 GMT -5
Cassian readily took the bait, not missing a beat as he’d been determining the alibi while they walked here.
“It’s not often we come this far north, but my wife wanted to get as close to Cambria as we could for our sabbatical without getting her feet wet.” He looked at Regan when he said it, and not a souls would miss—not even if they wanted to—the truth in them. The care. The affection. The love.
He continued to build his reputation, as only wealthy nobles could take sabbatical.
Cassian dragged his gaze from Regan, apparently regretfully, and asked,
“Tell me, sir, what is your name and what relation do you hold, if any, to the crown?” There was an air of assumption, as if Cassian were a man who assumed power in a town of this kind had to mean relation to royalty.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 17, 2024 7:02:54 GMT -5
Regan knew it was a ruse, she did, but regardless Cassian’s expression and the look in his eyes made her cheeks flush and her lips pull into. A genuine girlish smile. The mayor’s demeanor remained pleasant, but the hunter was as growing more agitated. This clearly wasn’t going how he wanted.
“Lord Colin Osborne,” he dipped his head, “The name doesn’t mean much outside these woods, but that’s mostly of our own making. We’ve lived here for centuries—kept to ourselves, lived off the land. Cared for this village, best as we can. As for the crown?” Osborne shrugged a little. “We’re grateful for his majesty’s reign. We’re also grateful we’ve been let to ourselves. Life’s not the same here as in Skia.” He tilted his head. “I don’t believe I got your name, my lord. And you, madam.”
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 Jan 17, 2024 8:25:24 GMT -5
Cassian had been made to study the lords of the land as a child. He recognized the name, though he classified the family as mostly insignificant to the grand scheme of things in Neveremere.
“Delaney.” Cassian said unflinchingly, one of the most well-known houses in the kingdom. He didn’t offer a first name. After a bomb like that he didn’t need to.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 17, 2024 8:33:16 GMT -5
“Delaney.”
Lord Osborne recognized the name—of course he did—and raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise. The hunter too stiffened. After a moment of what seemed held breath, the mayor furrowed his brow in confusion.
“Forgive me, Lord Delaney. I hadn’t realized. This…” His eyes went to Regan, “you are not who I expected.” He was doing some sort of obvious mental gymnastics. His eyes went from Regan’s short hair, to the scars on her face, to the callouses on her hands from years of combat training.
“Please accept my apologies,” The mayor said, “And I hope that you’ll indulge me to offer an explanation. The beasts’ attack has left many rattled and many a chair in our town empty. Naming two guilty parties has given them something to seize on to. It’s only natural for one to seek answers where they may not be—“
“Lies! All of it.” Raymond burst out, “I know what I saw. Delaney or no, these two are responsible.” He rose from his chair, spitting venom at no one in particular. “Do these two seem like Delaneys to you? Look at her—“ the hunter gestured at Regan with an emphatic open hand. Regan’s eyes met his in a defiant challenge, though she said nothing.
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 Jan 19, 2024 13:01:53 GMT -5
While the mayor mentally struggled to keep pace, Cassian sat by with a sober expression and a direct gaze, unperturbed even the slightest. If only they knew who he truly was.
“Apology accepted.” Cassian interjected after he pleaded for them. He would have given a quick answer, but the other man broke in. The sharp gaze he flashed to the man could have cut down a tree.
“She married in. A faithful royal guard of the king. Why, she was present in Lorendale when the Eldouirs attacked.” Everyone knew about that distant hot gossip and how the king had been in the room.
“Furthermore,” he rounded his gaze back on this mayor, “I don’t know what kind of explanation you are expecting to gain from me. I did not even see what those beasts were, only heard them from within the cabin. You look for guilt where there is none to be found. Is it the truth you want, sir, or a scapegoat?” Cassian’s last words were war, and he leveled a glare that tip-toed the line between aggressive courtesy and just aggression.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 19, 2024 16:43:01 GMT -5
Grief is a disease if left untreated can infect everything it touches. The hunter that stared back at the man he did not know was his king was wandering in a wasteland of grief and delusion. Cassian was right: truth is not what he sought, but vengeance. However hearing those words from the scapegoat’s mouth would make him run even further from them.
“Then why did you run?” Raymond challenged back, “We searched the woods for you and Amos for hours. Am I to believe he just walked away, that you two were simply on your way?”
“Raymond you forget yourself,” the mayor stepped in, trying his best to act the voice of reason. But Raymond turned on him next.
“No, *you* forget your responsibility to your friends and neighbors. To your *brother.* To this village.”
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 Jan 21, 2024 12:37:49 GMT -5
Cassian sat straighter, his attention on Raymond less friendly, less polished, as any nobleman might treat a man lesser than them.
“You will do well to remember,” he interjected, voice low with warning, “who you speak to. You will also do well to remember that night. We were caught in the act of intimacy, and instead of privacy and respect, you and your companions sought to manipulate us. You had weapons and delusions of our guilt. You were dangerous.”
Cassian gave him a final state before returning attention to the mayor.
“I will speak with you from here forward.” As if the other man didn’t deserve the time of day.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 21, 2024 12:48:58 GMT -5
Regan was starting to grow agitated. She'd been silent and still up to this point, but now she gripped the edge of the bench, her claws sinking into the wood from under the table. Regan wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth. To taste his blood--just as she had that night. Cassian would be close enough to notice the change in her breathing if he listened. They were intentionally slow and measured, trying to calm what was starting to simmer.
The mayor too was starting to grow agitated, but with embarrassment at Raymond's temperament. "Leave us," Lord Osborne said, "I believe you've said quite enough." Raymond stared at them both, seething, before he gritted his teeth and spat.
"Fools...the lot of you." Before storming out. There was a moment of silence before Lord Osborne turned back to Cassian.
"What can I do to make this right?" He offered with clear anxiety at incurring the wrath of a Delaney.
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 Jan 21, 2024 13:46:53 GMT -5
Cassian could surely sense Regan, and so he subtly reached out a hand to set on her leg. If it didn’t immediately calm her, he would pulsate pressure with his fingertips.
He didn’t even look at the man leave. His attention rest firmly on the mayor.
The inquiry that followed was not one Cassian was expecting, nor was he prepared for it. He huffed, shaking his head a little, before looking to Regan, the picture of a man seeking wisdom from his wife. Wisdom in a look, that is, as Cassian didn’t truly expect her to have anything to contribute here.
He turned back to the mayor with an air of resolve.
“We can part as friends.” He said, then, “In fact, we can part as allies. When I return to Skia I will personally request that the king sends an investigator to this town to help with whatever creature is haunting your woods and stealing your men.”
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 21, 2024 13:47:24 GMT -5
Regan's breathing calmed, but the tension in her body remained. She put her hand over Cassian's, losing herself for a moment as her fingers traced over his. When her eyes met his it was a look that did not need to be manufactured. The affection required no acting, the deference didn't either. She nodded a little, in an indication of agreement.
"I'd be much obliged," Lord Osborne dipped his head, "In truth, my lord, this post is new to me. My late brother was killed in the attack. I fear it will take time for me to earn their trust, but I remain --"
There was a sound as someone came inside rather quickly. It was Merida, the woman from before carrying clothes, followed by who was ostensibly Gerald who she'd been instructed to fetch.
"M'lord," she said quickly, clutching the clothes tightly against her chest, "Folks from the festival be gatherin' outside. Raymond's lot's been whippin' them up, now--" There were sounds of shouting from outside. Muffled, but there was no mistaking Raymond's voice.
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 Jan 21, 2024 13:47:43 GMT -5
Cassian rose slowly from his seat as the woman entered and delivered her news, his hand finding Regan’s as he looked from the woman to the mayor. He ignored the man she had brought with her. Instead he fixed his expectation on the man who supposedly had all the power here.
“What will you do?” An obvious question, but the implication was loud and clear: this was on him. He had an opportunity of a lifetime with Cassian, but would he take it?
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 21, 2024 13:48:44 GMT -5
Regan rose after Cassian did, holding his hand and keeping close. The mayor's face had gone pale, but his manner remained confident.
"I must speak to them," Lord Osborn said, "We must focus on dispersing the crowd. Gerald, with me. And Merida --" He indicated to the clothes, "Let them get dressed. Some privacy."
Merida nodded and quickly handed the clothes to Cassian with a dip of her head. The ruckus outside was growing, and Merida's hands trembled.
"M'lord." She dipped her head once again and exited through a different door. With Gerald in tow, Lord Osborne looked back at the pair before stepping out of the door where Merida had come. There was a burst of noise before the door slammed shut behind him. Regan turned to Cassian, pausing for a moment before holding her hand out for the dress with a playful smile.
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 Jan 21, 2024 13:49:00 GMT -5
Regan’s playful smile was met with flat lips and a mirthless gaze. This situation was getting out of hand. This was exactly why Cassian didn’t unwind. This was the risk when he let himself be free, even for only a few minutes.
He handed her the dress and tugged the borrowed shirt over his head. They couldn’t disappear. Not again. This time they had to either let the mayor win or Cassian would have to intervene. His thumb unconsciously touched the ring from his father.
“Follow my lead.” He hardly needed to say it, but there it was anyway, just in case she was feeling stupid.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 21, 2024 13:49:18 GMT -5
Regan's smile wilted like a plant unwatered in the sun. Cassian was right to be serious, of course, but she didn't want to let the levity go. The novelty of the moment. She swallowed and began to strip, exchanging her undershirt and trousers for the dress she'd been given (though she struggled with the laces for a moment).
Dressed, Regan turned back to Cassian and nodded once, smile gone and expression appropriately matching his.