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[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Hear ye! Hear ye! To all people of Sosaria, and most importantly The Wolf King, Myrddin ab'Arawn, and the entire family line of House Arawn:

Let it be known that Ceinwyn ab'Arawn has come to see Umbra flourish under the Lich Lord, Darrien Church. Let is also be known that she has willingly chosen to serve the Lich Lord, Darrien Church and Queen Catherine.

Signed,
Ceinwyn ab'Arawn

(Stamped with the ab'Arawn family seal)

[Lestat]

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*Riding back into Sosaria on his way back home to his children it had been a few months since he had seen his friends and family, then turning the corner as he made his way through town Lestat notices the paper* *scoffs and shakes his head* "Calling out my friend, your son like hes someone beneath You and Darrien, seriously this must be a joke" *He scoffs again and makes double time back to Stonegate perhaps his return came at the right time*

[Mairsil]

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His grip loosened on the notice, the wind gently tugging until it tumbled away and swept over the snow.

The messenger stood behind him, silently watching, but she was forgotten to the sound of his own voice, speaking unto him his own thoughts...


He's turned the protectorate against me...

He's turned my family against me...

With his death..I'll make him a martyr....

With my life, he makes me a villain...

Everyone forgets what I remember...

No one wants to know what I know...

Myrddin's Blood did not boil, his skin did not grow hot, his muscles did not tighten, his form was not shaped anew by emotion.

He was as cold as the air around him. His hands turned as his eyes drifted downward.


I followed my path away from Umbra...

Following my destiny brings me back...

I am the War Master, the Patriarch, the Wolf King...

I never washed blood from my hands before...

With my actions I do what is right, acceptance never mattered...

I...am coming...

Mother. Darrien. Umbra.
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"You see I can not be forsaken, because I'm not the only one. We walk amongst you, beating, r#ping, must we hide from everyone?" - Jon Davis

[Thraxas]

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Never without access to information of any valuable kind, having besides an effective spy network many daemon-kind at his disposal, the news of Ceinwyn's current life theme arrived at Covenant Castle and to the ears of Lord Regent Thraxas.

Well, that pious, foreign, manifestation and display was short-lived... thankfully!"

One cannot change what they are.

Whatever makes you happy, lovely Matriarch.

Welcome back.

Thraxas smiled inwardly and returned to his plotting.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."

[Soren]

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Soren stared at the post. She had heard that name before. Ceinwyn. yes, Bryelle had mentioned it to her. Bry had recently come back from a history lesson with Magus Izrem. And notes, Bry had taken notes for her!! That name was on those notes. The papers spoke of mistakes this name had made. How she had hunted down people who did not see things her way. Driven them to far reaches of the land to avoid death or worse. Soren shuddered. She hated the thought of putting anyone through pain. That is what set her apart from Bryelle and Mistress Asteby. They would do what needed be done.

Ceinwyn.

There was something very frightening about that name coming back to Umbra. Something not right. Soren pulled her cloak around her tighter as it seemed Umbra itself was vomiting up that name, trying desperately to lose it in the wind.

What must be done, that is what the others would do. And Her Grace Lady Ariana is who she should speak to.

[Ariana Lenoir]

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"Is 'e out o' 'is fracking mind?" Ariana stormed across her bedroom, throwing her cloak onto her bed. She pivoted sharply and began to pace back and forth across the room, the bottles and glassware almost appearing to shrink as if to beg mercifully not to be destroyed in her rage. Her ice blue eyes seethed with anger, the blue almost appearing to darken slightly like tumultuous storm clouds in the flickering candlelight. "'is brain mus' 'ave rotted away in t'at t'ick 'ead o' 'is not t'nay realize the damage t'is is goin' t'cause. Why am I even botherin' t'rebuild t'is city w'en all 'e is goin' t'do is brin' it t'ruin again?" Her accent, thickened by the rage, bit sharply at the warm air of the room threatening to chill it with her words.

Her delicate hand scooped an expensive anniversary bottle of wine and launched it towards the far wall. The bottle catapulted by her kindred strength as she forced vitae into her muscles, shattered brilliantly against the stone. The thick red liquid splashed and began to slide down the wall as hundred of glass shards sprayed the floor. That bottle triggered a physical onslaught upon the furniture and her possessions which would come at the cost of millions of gold to replace.

Shredded tapestries and smashed vases. Bottles of rare dyes mixing with the churning water of her bath. Broken colored glass carpeting the once pristine floor.

Her pacing had slowed, her boots crushed the shattered glass into the marble tiles with each step, scratching its polished surface. This little act of his would bring down all the careful plans she had worked so diligently over the last month for. With painful clarity she realized that her title meant nothing and neither would her daughter's. In the end, she would be undermined and constantly cleaning up the rubbish that the Lich Lord seemed to heap upon her in copious amounts. He told her he wanted Umbra to be born anew and yet he sabotaged that effort by inviting the prejudices of the world upon them with the former Matriarch's presence.

She had already received several letters from people in the city who had heard the news and they were scared of the implications of this. She couldn't lie and tell them it will be alright. It wasn't going to be and she knew it. This was a no-win scenario and the ones who were going to suffer most of all were the people. Her trade negotiations with the gypsies would most likely turn to dust and all the hard work she had done to earn their truth would crumble. The numerous mentions of the city during the previous reign were saturated with negativity, fear and hatred. How would she explain to them that Ceinwyn's acceptance in the city would be a positive thing? She simply had no explanation to give.

All this rage came back to one simple fact. She had no real power.

Power. It had been all she wanted. She wanted to carry on her family name into history. She wanted to honor her dead parents as the eldest child. She wanted her shame that came with the birth of her bastard daughter to amount to something. She didn't need absolute power, but she needed to know that her future family, both kindred and mortal, carried some weight in the world. She didn't have any of it. It was all a mirage and it was pointless.

The Lich Lord was weak for this. Weak and foolish. His self-proclaimed godhood was without merit and his logic severely flawed.

Ariana leaned her shoulder against one of her bedroom walls as she quietly contemplated the truth of the matter. Was this situation able to be salvaged? Should she step down as Regent? Should she allow Darrien to keep Catherine and appoint another figurehead for his false government until she came of age in hopes that by some stroke of luck the child would have more power than she? Should she remove the child and seek out safety in distant lands in hopes that her mortal bloodline would amount to something generations later? Should she give the child to Sanctus and let the two groups fight it out in hope that it would distract the Lich Lord while she left? Her daughter didn't even have her last name, so was it really all that important what happened to her?

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she grew irritated with the indecision. She had a fierce amount of loyalty for the city and even the Lich Lord. He had been irritating, but never so purposely destructive as this. The key thing that kept whispering in the back of her mind was that as the world turned their sharp eyes upon Umbra, it would be those in charge who were going to take the fall. He had made her Regent until her daughter came of age. The world would look to her and him as they sought to satisfy their inane thirst for blood and retribution. She was loyal, but she would not sacrifice her ultimate life to serve his cause.

She spent the rest of the evening indisposed. All letters were held and citizens were told by the guards to come back later. She had a lot of thinking to do and she needed to weigh her options carefully. Although some part of her was concerned for the mortal residents of the city, it was selfish in its origin. She had to look out for herself first and if she had the ability she would see to the safety of her mortal line through Catherine. The clock slowly turned on the wall as her mind attempted to figure out her next move.

Tick. Tock.
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[Korin d'Rue]

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Korin read the parchment again, as his eyes read over the words the parchment slowly turned to ice. "How could she do this?"
The parchment flew across the room and shattered against the wall. Korin sat at his desk, his mind racing. At first the snow was gentle and seemed to flitter on the air in the room, but soon it became harder. Before Korin even noticed the snow it lay two inched deep in his office. Korin looked around, no one was around, He felt releived that no one had seen this he was trying so hard to hold to his heritage, of no emotion. Korin with out thinking formed four little snowmen on his desk and set them into motion. They danced and twirled with each other. Korin watched the enchanted snowmen as his mind mulled over what he had read.

"You once chastied me for being childish." He stood slowly behind his desk, "Then you taught me this childish trick". Korins fists rained down, the snowmen and snow on his desk exsploded showering every corner of the room. " I need to talk to mother and figure out what this means for us!". Korin put on his shirt and buckled his chest plate into place he threw on the gray robe of Stonegate and headed out the door. Taking the steps two at a time. With a shriel whistle His mount Tamas came running. Korin lept onto his back and commanded "To the Oracles!"

[Merci d'Rue]

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Laughter....

She was laughing...a great irony... a twist of fate.

Tears streamed down her cheeks from laughter...as she laughed and laughed.. years of laughter at the twisted fate of life...

How did she know... that she would have to one day take on her very own mentor...wasnt that the way it was?

Kill or be killed...Only the strong survive...

So she laughed darkly hysterically and without care because care had left that which had stayed the claw was gone.

The sky tore open over Stonegate as the Oracle laughed .

Well if their serious then I guess its best I should be...

And she screamed into the sky that which Ceinwyn herself had said to her people long ago:

If its Oblivion they want, then let us send them to it...
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May destiny guide you...

[Grignag]

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Izrem stood before the public board silently, as onlookers warily looked between him and the announcement. His head merely seemed to scan the announcement slowly before tilting up and reading it again. Quite murmurs moved through the people as Izrem continued this motion. But those noises were outside of his consciousness. His mind traveled elsewhere.

He was a drow. Raised by drow and knew their culture of treachery, planning and a number of other tricks designed to bring down their foes. He had been forced to employ devious methods in the defense of his kin and brothers in Oblivion on numerous occasions. He had worked along some of the most depraved minds in the Order and watched their deceptions with a critical eye. All this had trained him to understand the secrets the lay beneath the actions themselves. Yet this decree was inscrutable to him. Why? What was this about?

Izrem searched over the paper. There was no stamps, signets or sigils that said this was sanctioned by the Lich Lord or the City of Umbra. Was this a ruse? If so, why be so upfront about it? It would take so little to disprove it. What sort of trick was at work here?

Perhaps the "Matriarch" had merely been wooed to the side of Oblivion and this was her own declaration of intent, not something sanctioned by the Lich Lord. Again, it lacked the markings proving it as anything more than her own decision.

Inevitably, Izrem's mind shifted towards that horrific possibility that perhaps this really was legitimate and sanctioned by the power that be. If that were the case...

The murmurings around him finally came into focus as he considered the things he had been teaching to these people. To those of the Order itself. Of Ceinwyn's rule and the rules of intolerance she had shown towards the fellowship of Oblivion. Of his own escape from her treachery that drove him into exile in the Underdark. Was he to turn around, laugh and wave his hand dismissively and say "That is all in the past"? A mere week prior he had instructed Supplicant Vaughn of the errors of the Nation of Umbra. To suddenly suggest it "wasn't so bad" would insult her intelligence as well as that of all the others. Was he to be viewed as a liar now? Or just simply ill-informed and therefore an unreliable source?

Pulling down a copy of the notice, Izrem rolled it up neatly, tied length of cord around it to seal it and placed it in his satchel before turning to the crowds.

"Is it true? The matriarch is in service to the Lich Lord now?"

"Come now." Izrem responded evenly, his paternal tone coming forward. "Let us not entertain every unsubstantiated rumor that happens to come up on public notice. We shall investigate to see what this is about."

Izrem was a skilled disassembler and the crowd accepted his words at face value. For now at least. Izrem walked at a slow, even pace out of town towards Charnel Hill. He would need to speak with the Lich Lord. Most likely Dealthagar too. He was probably somehow involved in all this. As his footsteps carried him to the Grove, he could swear he heard the howl of wolves ahead of him as if somehow fortelling the future. His thoughts turned inward as he approached Charnel Hill and found himself honestly wondering... "What am I going to do?"
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Femmies?! HOWAH!

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