<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="360" width="640"><param name="movie" value="https://www.youtube.com/v/yBejsvTIkws"/><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/><embed height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/v/yBejsvTIkws" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="640" wmode="transparent"/></object></div><br/><br/><span style="font-family: Old English Text MT;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #0040FF"><span style="text-decoration: underline">King Trystan</span></span></span></div></span><br/><br/>The day in Linloch was just like any other. The seas were calm, the ports and markets were bustling, and the weather was warm and fair. The fish markets were in full swing, and the guard was on their toes. They'd been told to be on high alert for some pirates that had been going around and raiding docked ships posing as the sailors who manned them. There were people from all walks of life scattered about the streets. Families from the Free Cities, thieves, merchants, magic users of all walks, and natives to Linloch plus and abundance more. Seems the streets never slept around here.<br/><br/>Inside the castle, King Trystan was already up and at it. Seemed he rarely slept anymore as he was overcome with worry for his two younger siblings. Since their father's death and the kingdom of Azeroth split into the three that they now were, there had been trouble between the trio. Mainly the action had occurred between his two younger brothers, but he had had his fair share of squabbles with them as well. He worried that they'd make some sort of rash decision and wind up destroying their kingdom. They were both young and inexperienced in handling things that went along with a kingdom. Mostly economic and diplomatic aspects. He longed for the days when they were just boys again and they were all friends, but he didn't expect to see that day return again before he died.<br/><br/>He had looked over new reports on both of the "rival" kingdoms this morning and observed what had changed from the last set of reports he'd been given. He needed time to process the information. So he did what he always did when he needed to think. He hunted his violin, and he began to play. He found music helped him think, and over the course of the few years that he'd picked up this habit of playing the violin, he'd become rather good. He stood on his balcony and played that way he could overlook his city whilst he did and observe the bustling streets and busy people that resided within his domain.<br/><br/><span style="font-family: Edwardian Script ITC;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #00FFFF"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Seraphina Octavia </span></span></span></div></span><br/><br/>In the mountains of Mekova, the weather was doing what it always did. Pouring the snow in the mountaintops, and raining in the valleys. There was no bright sun this morning. Instead, the skies were dull and grey. They were covered in dreary clouds and it didn't look like the snow was going to blow over any time soon. If anything, it looked more like there was going to be a harder snowstorm to come later on in the day.<br/><br/>The people were going about their daily lives as they always did in spite of the weather, and Seraphina was no different. She had gotten up early and bundled up. She then placed her enchanting books she packed with her, along with the clothes she'd sewn to sell into a cart and hooked it up to the horse to take into town and sell. She hadn't enough money yet to buy her own shop, but she was working towards it. She'd become rather popular around town as a seamstress and an enchantress despite the lack of magic in these parts. It made it so she had a decent flow of business for magic users in the area were sparse.<br/><br/>She stopped the horse outside of a little stand and she got her things situated on the countertop. She pulled her hood up over her red hair and waited to see if she'd have any customers. It was cold, but perhaps someone would stop by on their way by her.<br/><br/><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111497">@Ghost</a><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111501">@Aria</a>@GoatBoy19<a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111783">@turtleteapot</a><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111618">@TheMadAce</a><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111159">@Blackmarket Salesman</a>