Rainblade-Ryalors Open Barracks/Imperial Condos In Memoriam

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna could have kissed Ivo. She had half a mind to do so anyway, audience be damned. Let the Duke see that she'd managed to build a life for herself not because of what he'd done to her, but in spite of it. It wasn't the life her mother would have wanted for her, but that was his fault, not hers. She leveled her gaze as the Duke as she squeezed her fiancé's paw. "Having met your current wife, Duke," she added to her partner's barbed retort, "I am certain that you are familiar with the dynamics of a relationship with a powerful vixen. Mr. Suresight is my partner and equal in all respects, and I will treat any slight to him as personally as he regards any toward me." It was a hint of warning to the Duke. He had already crossed the lines of propriety in approaching them; they, in turn, had fired a shot across the bow. A retreat was in order lest open hostilities result.

Marianna tilted her head as she considered the man. "Did you know that my mother kept diaries, Duke Ryalor? I didn't, not until I made an effort to study her life. Apparently they were in a Fogey evidence locker for nearly twenty years before being moved to the Niceties Public Records Archive. She wrote a great deal about you. At her most kind, she called you a todd devoted to his family, a trait that reminded her of her husband as he'd once been - her highest compliment. She also called you a petty beast, one fixated upon status, vengeful of any slight, and utterly intractable once set on a self-defeating course - again, a reminder of her husband as he became, perhaps the harshest condemnation she could offer." She leveled her gaze at him as she stated, "I have no love for my father. He ceased to be that long before Vito stole me from my mother's home. Your vendetta with him I even could agree with, but for one thing: you two petty, self-important beasts, in your obsession with legacy and vengeance, destroyed the lives of everyone around you. I cannot sanction your actions, for they were never honorable in intent; nor can I offer you forgiveness, for I do not trust that you truly believe they were wrong. You came here to soothe your conscience at my and my mother's expense. I have no obligation to offer you a balm for that wound, for you have offered none for the one you inflicted upon me."

She wondered if her mother, when chastising her father for his foolishness, had sounded much the same. She doubted it; her mother's diaries held, in smaller words than Marianna preferred for herself, a gentle and compassionate spirit. Perhaps Marianna had more of her father's stubbornness in her spirit than she'd believed.

~~~

Mina Rose gladly let her paw soak in the water and marinate in the honey, not wanting to say how much she appreciated Kaii breaking off the ritual to care for her. She wouldn't have blamed him if he'd wanted to keep going right away, but it meant a lot that he was willing to focus on her first. She hoped that his ancestors would be understanding and would take pride in what a thoughtful and caring todd he'd grown up to be.

She blinked at his question, then blushed deeply, looking away in embarrassment. "Aw, ih' tweren' nothin'," she demurred. "Mah imagination jus' ran wild wiv' me fer a sec 'ere. Ah go' ta imaginin' yer gran'mammy, wha' kinda vixen she musta been, an' Ah reckon Ah go' a bi' too wrapped up in 't." She tilted her head, her own curiosity getting the better of her. "Do ya know if'n she was a big ol' white vixen wiv' green eyes, an' one a' 'em massive Fyadorian swords." She furrowed her brow, trying to recall the details. "She said mah name, clear as you sittin' across from me. Is 'at a good sign, 'er knowin' mah name?" She looked to him anxiously, hoping that the story would be well-received.

 

[Talinn Ryalor]

“Insolent swine!” Matas snarled, the silver-furred young Fyadoran captain having had enough and drawing his blade at the thinly veiled sarcasm of Ivo and the withering verbal assault of Marianna. How dare these gutter scum first accuse his lord of being judgmental, then proceed to do the same to him? What had these stupid beasts ever done in their life that was notable, while his master had saved not only Westisle, but likely this very Imperium itself? Leveling his sword at the fiery red fox, as the Mistcloaks turned around at the sound of a blade being drawn, scoped crossbows at the ready, he growled lowly. “Dono, but command me, and I will gladly-”

“Yamero! Soko made da.” Talinn commanded, voice cool, collected, and ringing with absolute authority. “Katana o osameyo. Mono iwazu are. Meiyo no koto, ware ga erabeba, ware jishin de katadzukeyō.”

If your character can understand Southern Fyadoran: Stop!. That’s far enough. Sheathe your blade. Remain silent. If I so choose, I will defend my own honor myself.

Staring daggers at Ivo in particular, but unable to question Talinn, Matas sheathed his blade, and the Mistcloaks, seeing that the situation had seemingly been handled, lowered their crossbows, and returned to scanning about the cemetery for any potential threats. Talinn, for his part, offered a small, apologetic nod as he spoke.

“Forgive young Matas, if you will, he is still adjusting to how things are done in the Imperium.”

Talinn leaned on his cane as he took his time looking at the defiant, but young couple before him-just like Matas, they still had that fire of youth within them, unburdened as of yet by the chill that decades of life would inevitably place upon them. Had he been that way, once? So passionate, so confident in himself, his actions, and his beliefs? He took a glance over at the grave of Nuori Sken, and reflected upon his meeting with her in the afterlife, before returning to the two. How much pain could have been avoided if the two of them had swallowed their youthful pride, joined together, and reigned in Anithias before he became a problem? Or…

No, those are the thoughts that you have when you are alone during the Festival of Sorrows, not now. The only thing you can do currently is move forward. Because if you stop, the void will swallow you whole.

He offered something of a slight, curt smile as he replied to Ivo first.

“I am glad to see that you, at least, Mr. Suresight, would never dare to be hypocritical yourself by judging others ‘based on nothin’ as you so eloquently put it. Certainly, a beast of your moral caliber would never comment on events that you yourself were never a part of, and would only know through hearsay and rumor, such as the circumstances surrounding the end of the Civil War.”

Turning his attention to Marianna, his expression remained the same, but softened and then saddened as he continued to speak.

“Ah, then I must be careful not to make any slights towards him, no? I am sure that will not be much of a problem, given his clear integrity. And yes,” he chuckled softly “I am aware of such dynamics with my wife, especially when we were as young as you two are now. It is good that you treat each other so well. It will be taxing to maintain, speaking from my experience, but if you can, it will take you far.”

He turned to look at the grave of Julia, pausing for some time before he spoke, appearing to be, if not in a different place, than a different time.

“I am not surprised that your mother kept diaries, I was told she was a prolific writer. I was even told some parts of what you say she wrote about me. The flattering parts, mostly, through Weylin and Vaelora. They were decent friends, as far as I can tell, even went to tea together. As for her other comments…”

He shook his head, and spoke once more, turning his pale blue eyes to meet her own hard green ones, soft at first.

“I was...younger then, between you and Mr. Suresight in age. Tasked with keeping an Imperium collapsing under its own weight and then by foreign powers and keeping my family safe. Petty, perhaps. Fixated on status? As a means to survive. Intractable? Well, it has been said to me many times that I have a singular force of will. But vengeful, no, not at first.”

He leaned back against his cane once more.

“Did your mother’s diaries ever tell you about Weylin and Vaelora? Surely, they must have, and surely, she would have noted that they were decent beasts. And did you ever wonder why two such beasts would ever stay next to a beast as indecent as she described me? They stayed with me because they saw me for the beast I really was-one surrounded in darkness. No friends who could be trusted, no faith that loyalty or love could ever truly exist. They intertwined their lives with mine to show me that day and every day that the world was not what I feared it to be. They were the lights in my darkness. Proof that there was another way, that beasts can be good, can be kind. That a beast like me could oneday, perhaps, dream of becoming like them.”

His eyes hardened.

“But then your father snuffed both of them out, one after the other, and I buried them. Personally, with my own paws.”

He let his cane lean against them, and held them out for Marianna to inspect. They were not the pampered paws that one might expect of a noble, but ones calloused and scarred by decades of war and bloodshed.

“These paws. And with my lights gone, I was once more lost in the darkness. And I had such…anger…such...pain.”

He let his paws fall down to his side, and pursed his lips, before he continued.

“As I said, I was younger then, I had not come to realize, as I did over the following decades, that revenge is not some passionate crusade. It’s a disease that eats at your mind and poisons your soul.”

He took a long, deep breath.

“My conscience will never be soothed, not in this life, nor do I ever expect you to sanction what I did to her, for I myself do not. They were the actions of a confused, wounded beast lashing out to make his enemy feel the same pain that he felt and to relieve some of his own pain. But instead, on both accounts, there was…nothing. Your father carried on with his violent delights until he met his violent end without a care for her, and I lived...live...forever with the shame of killing an innocent for no purpose. Believe what you will about me, but I do believe what I did to your mother was wrong, and it is one of my greatest sins.”

He was quiet for a long while after this as he stared down at Julia’s grave, then pulled out a small, delicate bouquet of flowers. They were white and wooly, but appeared sturdy, even in the wintry conditions.

“I came here to...honor her. These flowers are called Ederuwaisu. They grow only at the highest elevations in Fyador, so high that you can barely breathe when you pick them. They are beautiful, but also hardy and resilient, even in this weather. I cultivate them for those I care for, both living and departed. I wish to leave some of them at her grave, and...say some words, if you will let me."

@Marianna Furotazzi @Ivo Suresight @Jeshal the Ironclaw @Tanya Keltoi

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

The cool of Tanya’s guarded mask began to soften as Falun spoke. Under other contexts she might have made light of his brief grimace; found a jibe or joke to make and tried to break the tension between them with an offer to start afresh. He was not related by blood but as far as the vixen was concerned was close enough. That alone shielded him from her usual habit of maintaining grudges.

For a moment she feared he would test such a sentiment when the golden todd mentioned Armina, but the delivery was factual, informative. It spoke more of the public knowledge of her identity change, also. So he didn’t know, then – that, or presumed she did not. Much though she railed against the labelling of her niece as having her place merely amongst the Ryalors it felt prudent to retain the illusion if only for today. There was no need to glance to her husband: he was far more socially adept than she and would likely already know to mind the difference. Still, one had to wonder in this city where her body truly lay.

Falun continued to speak, and Tox found herself genuinely surprised and pleased by the diplomatic olive branch he extended. Whether he had come to this conclusion himself or at the behest of his sister mattered little to the older vixen. He had approached alone and verbalised it: that alone increased his esteem in her eyes. “Takes a bold beast to be able t’say such things and not stand on pride,” she replied. “Well spoken, an’ I appreciate that. We don’t have to carry on this cycle’ve messy feuds. Would be nice to at least get along, if nothing else, wouldn’t it?”

Movement over the larger todd’s shoulder drew her gaze, and for a moment her fur prickled at the sight by the memorials. Tanya’s line of work had frequently necessitated gauging the nature of a conversation whilst being party to none of the dialogue: even so, it did not take the most astute to feel the tensions rise when weapons were drawn, regardless of whether they were dismissed or not. I recognise that one. Put him to sleep before. Should have given a stronger dose after all.

“Speakin’ of your sister,” Tanya murmured softly, gaze locked on the altercation playing out at a distance, “she’s lookin’ a little outnumbered with all those guards over there. Now, I wasn’t in a hurry to go meet everybeast but I’m wondering if we should be makin’ a move.”

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Ever practised with the concealment of his emotions, even if for the past years it was mainly to irritate his children, Jeshal showed simply rapt interest in what Falun had to say about Armina. It had been a shock to discover over time just how much sentiment Ironclaw had buried like a pirate’s stash. Back then, he had thought he had felt near nothing, so many memories a fever dream of barely important chaos, stories along the way to his final schemes. How horrifying that they had become people, people who meant something more than pawns, and far, far too late it was now for him to tell them otherwise. He ignored the dull knife of pain in his chest at the thought of Armina’s grave. He had the urge to visit the common yard as soon as possible now, even though she couldn’t possibly have been buried there, not with what he knew. But did this mean Falun did not?

Jeshal allowed a faint wrinkle of the nose to show at the mention of Ryalors. Strange to think that only a few years had prevented Tanya’s false grave being counted among them. Strange how mixed his feelings were about that name. Not so strange that he might appear discomfited around the grave of his wife’s ex-husband.

The current Falun distracted from this with his apology and Jeshal smiled, especially considering Tanya took it well. He then followed her gaze to the bristling nature of the beasts ahead.

“Aye, I suppose we’d best. With any luck, we’ll be out of it before we be committin’ treason again.”​

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

Falun nodded as the apology seemed to be accepted, a new equilibrium established between them. "Right on." He glanced over his shoulder at the mention of his sister, sighing in exasperation as she and her toddfriend were briefly threatened. "'Gates below, Anna, I leave ya fer two minutes," he grumbled. "Aye," he addressed the pair, "let's get in 'ere an' keep 'em from doin' annehthin' more stupid 'an 'ey already 'ave."

As they started toward the confrontation, Falun glanced over at Tox. "No Lorcan an' Kinza today? Coulda used yer son fer backup if 'is goes south, big guy like 'im. Sure 'at was a 'eck of a delivery fer ya."

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Ivo rolled his eyes upon such lengthy stream of words that escaped the duke. Of course he would assume that, due to his position, he would be listened to no matter how much he spoke. The only things that Ivo managed to pick up from this whole jumble was that the Duke thought that his reputation was only due to what he did during the war, nothing that happened further and he picked up from more than one sources. The fact that Duke considered himself justified and mourned.

But Ivo couldn't feel for this beast. Simply because of the way they were. Even now, thinking that lengthy elaborations did more than real actions. Sure bringing flowers was a nice gesture, even if Ivo didn't get the meaning behind them specifically. But it was very much like what he did. Just covering the mistakes, not actually addressing them.

"Yer using many words Duke, but stand upon a hill and yell 'em to those who've died. I assure ye that yer only answer will be silence."

That was Ivo's only comment.

---

Kaii looked at Mina with interest, confused but also very curious about what she was saying. He had to grasp his muzzle with his paw for a moment to gather his thoughts before replying to Mina.

"If the picture of her I have is accurate, and I am quite certain it is, she was average sized, athletic and had same fur colouring as I do, with minor differences between markings. Her weapon of choice were kamas. Think sickles but made specifically for combat. They were reforged into the glaive that I have." He explained, pulling out the book of his dynasty and showing a picture of her, indeed looking as described, with dark blue eyes and tail longer than usual, just like Kaii's.

But then he refocused on the second part of what Mina said, that was the part that truly shook him. Yes it was a different description, imagination tended to do that he supposed, but he knew enough about traditions of his family to explain what was the case with Mina's experience.

"In the tradition, during connecting with our ancestors in this ritual, the part of them that lives in us grows in power. They can see our memories and minds. While I naturally think it was a product of your imagination, she would be able to learn your name through that. Absorbing it from me. Which would suggest that it is an important thing to my ancestors." Kaii smiled at that, looking at Mina for indeed, he found her important, and if his ancestors did too, it was a good omen, even if he didn't believe those, the idea was nice.

He then checked to make sure that Mina's paw is alright before standing up andclearing his throat. "Do you wish to continue? I know it can be hard while wounded, especially after such... experience that you have had."

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna tightly squeezed Ivo's paw, her own speechlessness due only to a simmering rage that threatened to explode as a wordless scream, at least until she could get her words under control. "My husband-to-be is right," she managed to confirm, her voice strangled with the fury that threatened to burst from her. "You come here to honor her? Now? Where was that honor when Vito stole my mother from me, on your orders? You can't even look me in the eye and apologize for what you did. Never, in all these years, with her children living right under your associate's thumb, did you apologize once for destroying their family. You came here to soothe your own conscience, to seek forgiveness from a stone. Maybe she would have forgiven you; I'd like to believe that she was a kinder beast than I am. Because of you, though, I will never know. Because of you, I will never be the daughter she wanted. So go ahead; shower her grave in flowers, bathe it in tokens of contrition. It will never be enough to wash the blood from your hands, because my brother and I continue to bleed it every day."

~~~

Mina Rose frowned, furrowing her brow as she tried to compare the picture she'd had in her mind with the one that Kaii described. They really didn't sound alike at all. "Ah'm sorry Kaii," she apologized sheepishly. "Ah really did le' mah mahnd go runnin' abouts 'en. Mebbe I called up th' wrong ancestor, I dunno." She stood up with him, testing to make sure her pawfinger wasn't stinging too much anymore. "Ah can keep goin'," she promised, looking up at him earnestly. "Ah wanna do 'is righ'. If Ah'm ever gonna be lahke fam'ly t'ya, Ah wanna be able ta honor 'em proper-lahke."

 

[Talinn Ryalor]

As Matas looked like he was going to have some sort of stroke trying not to behead the very red fox right then and there, Talinn only flicked his eyes in slight irritation at Ivo. Useless defiance, youthful pride? Had he been that much of a pain in the tail when he was a young fox around Ivo’s age?* No matter, whatever words he spoke held no meaning-he may very well just be another todd in the revolving door that Marianna likely had, despite her protestations to the contrary. If he actually did manage to put the ring on her and seal the deal, and not be murdered in the business that she and her brother had inherited from Vito in the process, maybe his estimation of the fox would rise a little. Maybe.

A different Talinn, before Urk, might have said to Marianna that his honor was letting her and Falun live in the first place, an honor Anithias himself had not extended when he had tried to wipe the entire Ryalor family out once and for all. After all, the surest thing to have done would have been to finish the job and ensure that none could grow up and come back for vengeance. It had been done before, in the Imperium, in Westisle, and in Fyador. And, indeed, he could feel the temptation to slip back into his darker self-being around Anithias...or things...related to him always seemed to have that effect. But, as he looked once more over at the stone, the thought of Vaelora, over whom all this had started, struck him.

She, the most wounded of us all, could change, could forgive. Can I not? What would she want me to do?

Thus, the darkness that had seemed to begin to form in his chest and his eyes faded as he thought of her.

I miss you, cousin. You...were always a better beast than me. You would have known how to handle this better. For everything else you...knew how to love, to be loved, and to fix broken things and beasts.

Instead, after a bit of silence, the Duke rather unexpectedly, and much to the shock of Matas, not only inclined his head towards Marianna, but then painfully knelt, one knee, then another, before prostrating himself before her. Matas, and then the other, more seasoned mistcloaks, looked openly stunned. Their Lord, who rarely apologized for anything, let alone publicly was now granting this foreign vixen, this nobody, this spawn of his mortal foe, dogeza.

“I had thought to explain the circumstances, so that you and your brother may get some closure. But you are correct. There is no excuse for what I have done. It is difficult for me to apologize directly because…” he glanced up at her for a moment, pale blue eyes genuine “there are no words I know that are adequate enough for what I took from you.”

Then, he went quiet, and went back to kneeling.

*Somewhere, in an afterlife that may or may not exist, in a particular forest, a certain pine marten and the namesake vixen whose grave he was near might be shouting “ABSOLUTELY” from the rooftops.

@Marianna Furotazzi @Ivo Suresight @Callisto Bluemoon @Jeshal the Ironclaw

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Though the mounting tensions over at the graveside were cause for concern, Tanya could not resist a mirthful snort to Falun’s observations. She had to agree with him: both her kits would have been helpful were things to turn south, but their presence would likely have dulled her ire as it was. “Psht, he were the last born an’ my first lot were twins: ain’t much more damage can be done,” she chuckled. “I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually, those two are a law unto themselves. Probably for the best though: wouldn’t want ‘em getting tangled up if this gets messy.”

Any concerns beginning to squirm in her paranoid brain were curtailed by the shift in atmosphere. Close enough now to notice proceedings, she could feel her own hackles prickle a little with frustration when Talinn seemed to respond to heated words with prostrating himself. She recalled well how much his apologies had deflated her temper, left much still unsaid. Just like when I saw you. Stop performing your apologies and act on them.

It was, however, not her argument to intercede in. Arms folded behind her back, expression severe (save the momentary glance to Matas) she gave Marianna and Ivo a nod but otherwise held her peace. A rarity, but a growing occurrence in her older age.

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Another snort had left Jeshal at Falun’s comment about Lorcan. He still did not recall that birth being remotely easy and had made sure to sit on Tox’s right to avoid needing a second metal paw. There was little time to reflect on it with the exchange going on ahead.

Seeing Marianna snarling at Talinn stirred some of the suppressed ire in Jeshal’s blood, the reminder that Ryalor had been responsible for Julia’s death. To approach her daughter at her grave sounded almost suicidal. The sight of Talinn prostrating himself was a surprise, although the presence of his guards muted the gesture somewhat in Jeshal’s eyes.

Jeshal stood alongside Tanya, equally silent, his smile long since gone. With Talinn on the floor, he decided to direct an unpleasant stare at Matas.​