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PROLOGUE ACT I: CANDIDACY

Venn was right, unfortunately.

The redhead brushes a ringlet away from her face, looking over the materials she had studied over the day. Catherynn had admitted, earlier in the day, that her drive for magical knowledge clouded her perception of … lawfulness … at times. This was undoubtedly one of those times. A sigh passes her parted lips. At the least, the weather had been nice. The south’s weather was one of its best qualities.

She lingers at the back of the Solstice. Refurbished Second War armaments continued to turn heads, that much Cath could see through the windows of the large quarters. Rookscove was in desperate need of something with a less conspicuous profile. Head shakes, tossing red curls every which way. The woman reclines against the over-stuffed seating made for lounging. Hands loft to hold the papers over her face.

So, they’d convince the candidates to help them, instead. House Sovereign was wealthy in potential gifts and gold. If Catherynn was unable to swing one method, she could surely get acquainted with an alternate way of doing things. Venn had been important in the retaking excursion. Rookscove could’ve been lost without him - his concerns were not to be taken lightly.

This was the best solution. Lady Alving’s time and preparation would be just as useful, if not more so, and her own efforts wouldn’t be without cause. And, Gods willing, they could persuade her cousin to see the greater purpose behind her erratic magical intrigue.

A sigh bubbles up and out once again. The papers are laid across her chest carefully. Some nagging whisper stroked the inside of her skull — they’ll come in without a sound. It hissed and writhed at the back of her head. You know where the hole is. Rookscove will fall. Rookscove will fall.

They had made no real magical fortification, despite the gaggle of mages at their disposal. None were so capable at charms. Argus’s arrival and proximity reminded Catherynn of this issue daily, made the whispers scream from behind their teeth that Rookscove would be lost.

(mentions: @venn-ii-sovereign, @greenapplesprite, @housesovereign)

#wra rp #wyrmrest accord #wow rp #wra alliance #house sovereign #catherynn sovereign #venn sovereign ii #raisa alving #prologue01 #present

[WRA-A] HOUSE SOVEREIGN IS RECRUITING!

We would like to expand our guild by a handful of members before we begin the first chapter of our campaign — we are currently in the thick of pre-plotting for our exposition-based prologue.

THE PREMISE

Following the fall of Gilneas, House Sovereign rallied to their forested coastal land south-east of Gilneas City. Unable to take back all of their baronies, the House collapsed around Rookscove Keep — intent on slowly reclaiming their lands north of the Blackwald while coping with Azeroth's changes at large. In addition to the general aspirations of regaining their former glory, House Sovereign yields an impressive magical school — at its head, the Lady of the House. Students of various specialties and beliefs filter into the program, often graduating to the elite squad of House magi.

ABOUT US

House Sovereign was created, initially, as a side project to showcase characters with ethically questionable intentions and to satisfy the itch for darker, heavier themes. The idea was to tap in to the system of a noble house - the bureaucracy, the history, the familial unity and the intrigue of maintaining a specific area of land - while keeping in mind the state of Gilneas as a kingdom.

Additionally, though using the framework of a noble house to cover the cult-esque magical intrigue isn’t the most creative and original of ideas, the dynamic between a house’s desire to rebuild, a lingering darkness beneath the surface and the constant threat of Gilneas’s contested territory has allowed us a wide window of creativity.

#wra rp #wraconnect #wyrmrest accord #wra #WoW rp

coldlongpromises

RETURN pt 1

I AM YOUR OPUS, / I AM YOUR VALUABLE, / THE PURE GOLD BABY THAT MELTS TO A SHRIEK. / I TURN AND BURN. DO NOT THINK I UNDERESTIMATE YOUR GREAT CONCERN. — Sylvia Plath —

MONTH 10, YEAR 24

Rain hits the roof of the dark carriage in fat drops. Across from Catherynn, seated atop an identically overstuffed burgundy seat, her sister-in-law’s almond shaped eyes stare her down unblinkingly. Beside Fausta, seated in the stiff, straight-backed position of one wearing rigid plated armor, Cath’s brother has turned his bored gaze out of window to his right. Aldwyn’s blonde head curls against the redhead’s side, the toddler soundly asleep, as she looks her brother and his wife over wearily.

Keep reading

#wra #wra rp #wow rp #catherynn sovereign #malleolus servilius #charlotte sovereign #house sovereign #past

thaylynnkestavin-deactivated201

Through Trials and Times.

Stormwind City - present day, Midnight. Graysenn slipped from his wife’s embrace, as they slept abroad their quarters on the Solstice, currently docked in Stormwind harbor. Quietly, slowly, he put on his clothes, and equipment. He scribbled a quick note, leaving it near her. *“My sun, I did not want to wake you. I have a bit of business to tend to in the city, I will return shortly. Love, your husband, Graysenn. He looked at Catherynn, and smiled at the sleeping beauty. He made his way off the ship, careful to avoid anyone seeing him. He dressed in black and deep brown, with a scarlet red scarf. He headed, into the rich part of Stormwind city. Arthur Millhouse, the former magistrate from Gilneas, wandered, half drunk into his well to do apartment in Stormwind. He walked over to his desk, in the study and lit candles, as they slowly filled the room in a yellow, hazy glow. The man went and sat at his desk. As he opened the drawer, Graysenn spoke, stepping out of the shadow. Flintlock drawn, hammer back, and pointed at Arthur. "Hello, Magistrate.” the thick Gilnean high borne accent was unmistakable, to Arthur’s ears.

Slowly, Arthur looked up, meeting Graysenn’s eyes. Silence filled the room for several moments, but what felt like forever. “So, this is it, then? I should’ve had you hanged, that day.” Graysenn smirked slightly. “Probably.” the pistol still trained on the man. “But you didn’t, and here we are.” Arthur narrowed his gaze, and flung the drawer open, drawing his own pistol. It clicked, quietly, as he tried to fire on Graysenn. He looked at the pistol, terrified and in shock. “I’ve got yours, and you’ve got mine.” Gray replied. He took a seat, in front of the magistrates desk. “Don’t talk, I’ll do enough for the both of us.” he said, clearing his throat, pistol still trained on the man. “That day, in the courthouse, you destroyed my life. My family. My house. House Blackwell, had earned a black mark that day, and quickly fell into obscurity and scrutiny. I confessed, to having sold weapons, but I never did murder anyone. Not at that point in my life at least. No, you wanted to prove, so badly, just how swift, and powerful your ‘justice’ was.” Arthur interrupted.“ You broke the law, you had to pay! I had to show them Gilnean justice was swift! ” Gray laughed at his words, lowly. “You know what justice is, magistrate? Justice is a blind idealogy of right versus wrong. Everyone believes they’re right, in their own way,and what they believe.” Arthur narrowed his brows, full of anger. He went to yell, but was interrupted by a bullet entering through his mouth, and exiting the back of his head. “ Sorry, I was finished talking.” he walked over to where the man sat, replacing their pistols. He set the recently fired one in the dead man’s hand, and left behind a 'suicide’ note. Not before sprinkling a few drops of the man’s blood on it for effect. Gray pulled up the scarf over his face, as exited the apartment, and made his way back towards the harbor. He lowered the scarf, playing it cool.

Guards rushed by him, as the bells rang throughout the city. He made his way back to the Solstice, stopping as he opened the door to their cabin.

#wra rp #wra #wow rp #graysenn sovereign #catherynn sovereign #in the city #present

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