H
e wakes up and there is a hole where something important should be.There’s a familiar fog out the window, the sort that only comes to an early morning Delumine, when even in the dead of summer like it is now, there is still dew on the ground when the sun crawls up from its bed. There are unfamiliar things, too, in place of the sensations that he had come to rely on, the little rituals of a life lived outside one’s window. In the hall, there is no thoughtful pacing. Outside his window, there is no telltale snk of rose stems being cut-- one of those sounds that you don’t hear except when you know it, when it is your only point of reference in a new place, a new bed, a new building.
No, the only familiar thing is the fog. Everything else is so quiet that Andras holds his breath. In that silence he can feel it: the hole, the slow march of time, leaves browning in the summer sun. His lungs claw for air and it feels somehow fitting as Delumine, too, holds its breath. Even the hanging philodendron in his room looks duller, today, like it’s in mourning, leaves hanging limp from the sides of its pot.
Of course it is. The whole Court is in mourning, though no one is dead.
A page tells him, when he leans out his door to look down the hall. ”The Dawn God is here,” says the man, old enough to be grown but still young enough to be trembling when he speaks. Andras wonders if it’s him, if this boy’s trembling knees are a reflection of the set of his jaw, or the sharp pop of his magic when the words finally make sense. Oriens is here. A God with a body.
Suddenly, Andras is sure he’s not the reason the page is shaking. The man continues: ”He says Ipomoea and the regent have left.”
So that’s it. The silence. The mourning. The fog that shield their view from the garden when he looks, where there is no king to tend to the flowers, and no snk, snk of his shears.
”Where?” The Emissary asks, though there is only one answer. He knows the king well enough to know that there only could be the one.
At the same time it’s said, Andras thinks: ”No one knows.”
Things are falling out of his hands faster than he can catch them: the sense of security, the feeling of being known even if he was not understood. As he descends the stairs, page in tow (and this page has gone silent, and pale, because Andras moves in a cloud of lightning and far faster than someone his size should be able to walk, hooves striking the stone with a loud clap that rings up the stairwell behind them -- and he knows it is because Oriens is here and Ipomoea is not, and that can mean only one thing) Andras thinks of the sun spread out over the fog and his old room in the library and the depths of the woods where there are nothing but birds and ghosts.
It helps.
As much as anything helps.
Or, it helps until it doesn't-- the heavy wood door to the castle creaks on its wrought iron hinges, a slice of morning falls over his face, and the sun doesn't fall on the fog as much as it falls on the man who wears it. He is blue, like the night, and gold, like the sun.
Andras clenches his teeth.
"Oriens," he says, to the Dawn God, to the crowd. Andras closes his eyes. He remembers to breathe. "I would. I will."
About the RPer
@Cannon
27
Way back when, at the start of Liridon, Michael was king of one of the kingdoms, and while it didn’t really suit his personality, I thought it was a great time. Back in those days, we didn’t have player-led lore or leadership positions of any real consequence and nobody seemed necessarily united for the cause. It made it more just “another thing that happens” than anything else.
Here, Andras has been Warden since Somnus first stepped down from the sovereign position, and was Warden until a few weeks ago when he was made Emissary. I’ve loved really getting into the role of a Warden, which came naturally to Andras’ character, and then trying to figure out how to fit all those sharp edges into the Emissary job.
I have!
I know it’s cliche to say that I love the community, but I really do love the community. We have such wonderful, creative writers in Novus that are so good at bringing the place to life. Like I said, largely handing the Every character seems so true to themselves and very thoughtfully created, and most things they do are just the same. My favorite part of Novus will always be the wonderful stories I’ve read and gotten to be a part of because of it. You have all pushed me to be a better writer and to flesh out my little parts of this world and I think the only way I can truly repay it is to do the same in turn for those that come next.
Sovereign Questions
Let’s talk about Andras.
At first glance, he doesn’t seem like he’d be classic dawn court material. He’s pragmatic, but blunt. He’s very, very, smart, but impulsive. He’s a man who loves his silence but he’s too restless to enjoy it. Oriens gave him his magic to teach him to breathe and let things come and go as they will, and he’s still learning how.
He was a scholar before he became a warden, and genuinely, Andras would have been happy to sit in the Library, reading books for the rest of his life-- but the court needed someone with sharper edges than everyone else to protect them from danger. He spent half a year in the woods looking for their murderer and went with their king to confront her directly. He isn’t naturally talented in diplomacy or working as a team but he only ever puts Delumine first, before himself or his relationships or his struggles with both of those. Andras does not value himself, he only values Delumine and working toward keeping it alive and safe. I think one of his struggles with being sovereign would be that he has to also learn to value himself, because at the head of the country, he can’t make rash decisions, or do things without thinking, because his people and their way of life are at stake.
Add that to the fact that he’s seen it firsthand for almost two in-game years now, I think? He knows how the weight of a crown can break a man’s neck and he refuses to let that happen. He knows a king doesn’t really rule on his own, that there are people like he was as Warden, holding the structure up under him. He knows, too, because of the poaching, the the inprisonment of their former emissary, that there is danger, too, and if you cannot immediately stop it, sometimes the best thing to do is stay hopeful, at all costs.
I think Andras is the right mix of serious, unafraid to act, driven, professional, and genuinely concerned with the wellbeing of the people he knows to be a great leader.
Andras has always thought Dawn was a little too quiet, and that everyone in it was a little too soft-spoken and gentle. He sees Oriens as a god of logic and knowledge and a deep, deep love for all things that make the Dawn Court what it is. When Andras thinks of his court he thinks of the woods, which are endless and sometimes dark, too, or the Rapax, which is beautiful and clean and sparkling but violent, and the meadow which, edged up against the desert, is no civilized place itself. To be a Court at one with nature we must realize that nature itself is unpredictable and often dangerous just as much as it is gorgeous and serene and refreshing. More than anything he wants his people, and everyone else, to see that Delumine is not soft and weak -- like him, it is peaceful because it chooses to be.
This isn’t to say that Andras doesn’t appreciate those of us who really are just as gentle and soft as he wishes he was. The reason he loves Delumine more than anywhere else in Novus is because of them. He sees it as a safe place. He wants to keep it safe. He wants to keep them safe. As sovereign, their general calm would offset his overprotective, sometimes blunt nature.
At the moment, we’re a court that, now missing a part of the newer lore that we had, is really in need of a breath of fresh air, and I hope to bring that to us. I’ve had some ideas percolating for a few months that I’d love to bring in. Since we are now without much written court history I’d like to rebuild that. Part of the Dvorak lore that I wrote includes the forest itself being angry with them for building out of their trees, and that’s part of why they’re as troubled as they are. I’d love to expand on that to explain some tension between the citizens of Delumine and the very, very wild, ancient, magic landscape around them.
I both value that Dawn is so different from the other courts and recognize that part of what makes them so fun for players is a rich history to play off of and political intrigue. I don’t know that a deadly power struggle belongs in Delumine but I have some great ideas for different factions of scholars, and schools of thought (or physical schools-- who knows) with some tensions between them. If we were to introduce something akin to noble families to Delumine I imagine these would sort of fill that niche. I can’t really see dawn court having a lot of rowdy nobles, but I absolutely can see a school of artisans thinking they’re more worthy of praise than philosophers, or soldiers, or something of the sort.
Other than filling in the gaps, I and Andras are both very concerned with engagement. I personally think that what makes an active court isn’t necessarily just encouraging the players to be active but giving them a reason to do so. I love coming up with and writing events, and I’m so so excited to maybe take the reins on some great lore and history to give everyone more to play with.
Hi! These have been a lot of very ambitious ideas, but I am more than prepared to commit to them. I love Dawn Court so much and all I want to do is help everyone else see how much potential we have in this wild little country of ours.
they made you into a weapon
and told you to find peace.
