Feverous {Andronica & Sabre}
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Sabre on 15-05-2015, 02:37:36</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Feverous {Andronica &amp; Sabre}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>15-05-2015, 02:37:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"<em>To Jungfrau Kathrine Von Adler, First and Last born</em>," the missive ominously began. "<em>It is my deepest regret and most solemn duty to inform you that your father, Master Alexander, was murdered.</em>" The wax seal appeared authentic, the faded color the same mix from her father's own desk, the ancient emblem as archaic and obscure as ever. The letter itself defied any scrutiny, if its contents did not. <br><br>"<em>Lady and heiress, we humbly request your immediate presence and guidance. And Master Alexander's final wishes and affairs summon you home.</em>" No longer a simple academic, the young miss was chosen, if years too soon, as the next Adler Junker. <br><br>"<em>Signed, Erwin Huber, your ever loyal servant. I'm so very sorry, Young Miss.</em>" For so many years the old footman had addressed her as 'Young Miss' alone. But now much had changed, and would continue to change. Her father, murdered? And Erwin said nothing more about this, as if given up hoping to fit every detail in his letter, or else unable to find the words. There was only his regret, and a sense of urgency.<br><br>Every jolt threatened to pry the carriage apart by its nails. Buckling and battered by the storm, racing along winding mountain paths, the carriage made one brace their arms against the cabin walls in both panic and exhilaration. Each flash of lightning outside revealing a harrowing drop into a hauntingly beautiful landscape. A sea of trees dancing like waves in a squall blanketed the valley as though untouched by human hands for decades. The carriage leaned hard to one side, and turned a dangerous turn, and the lady in the carriage was finally home.&nbsp; If the light of civilization, if cities and industry had lit up the world, then here was a dark, menacing corner where that light failed to reach. Ahead slept the spindled town of Iserlohn, huddled by the Alps, grand and monumental half a lifetime ago, and now half abandoned. And perched on a rock above the town by the mountain lake, like a towering church spire imitating the mountains, loomed Castle Damassia, the sole lighthouse in this storm tonight.<br><br>Any request to slow down was ignored. The driver would hear none of it, and his whip drove the horses on in a frenzy through the woods that engulfed the coach and road whole. The dilapidated road had slowed their progress earlier in the day, and since dusk the driver grew more agitated with every hour. To an acculturated metropolitan it was madness, the banditry and internecine fighting of the last war now decades in the past. But something about it was infectious, despite educated resistances. As the tree line whirred past like a blur, with every lightning flash revealing the endless ranks of ancient oak after ancient oak, the oppressive feelings of childhood fears squeezed her chest tight. It welcomed her home.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Feverous {Andronica &amp; Sabre}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Andronica</strong> on <strong>15-05-2015, 03:44:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The last thing she had ever said to her father was that his work - his life's work - was ridiculous. What else could she have said? She was on the brink of accepting a scholarship that would take her away from home and apprentice under one of Prussia's finest physicians. Yet there was her father. Reclusive and sometimes incoherent as he tried to progress with his bullheaded endeavors in science. It was all a load of witchcraft that he was after. Grasping for something akin to a workable theory with snake oil and magic. <br><br>She left on rather disagreeable terms, refusing to speak to her father after he had come to see her off. He was a good man but ever since her mother's death when she was young, he had become... unhinged. The very thought brought a cool shiver through Katrina's body like a pair of icy fingers crawling up her back and jabbing into her spine despite the best efforts of her black wool petticoat. Her hands, clasping at the letter which she lay in her lap, were offered little warmth by the lace gloves she wore as she turned her fair face to peer out of the window.<br><br>Katrina's breath fogged up the thin glass of the jolting carriage. The cobble and dirt roads varied in decrepitude depending on where they were. Frost bitten plains of sepia grass, tall mountain ranges, and thick dark forests right out of a Grimm tale made up the heart of her ancestral homeland. But through the bitter storm raging outside it was difficult to see where they currently were and how close she was to seeing her loyal servant Erwin Huber. She could not remember the familiar sharp turn that led into the foggy town of Iserlohn for all the time she'd been away from home in less rugged terrain. If it wasn't raining she likely wouldn't recall her surroundings either for how the city was abandoned and all but claimed by the earth again.<br><br>Her estate was through the quiet town on its southern outskirts, across the way from the looming castle Damassia. Suddenly she felt the carriage jerk to a halt and a gasp passed her full lips as she held her hands out to stop from being thrown into the seat opposite her. Katrina muttered something incoherent and agitated under her breath. With a quick reach upward she began to pull wavy strands of dark chocolate hair back into the bun which had gradually loosened through time traveling and sleeping in the carriage.<br><br>A small pocket mirror revealed that the Adler heiress had properly assembled her hair with a few short pieces hanging down to frame her face. She paused as she looked down into the mirror. Her father always said she was the spitting image of her mother. The small pointed nose, those scrutinizing angled brows, her high cheek bones and a swan-like neck that would make any man weaken at a mere inkling of acknowledgement from her keen blue eyes. Sighing, Katrina touched her face as if it were someone else; a private gesture she had done as a child, as if she were greeting her mother.<br><br>Banging on the carriage door alerted her to the coachman as he tried to combat the harsh winds and let her out. A metal clank and howl of bitter air soon followed as her door was forced open and steps down facing the door of her estate. Hurriedly taking her single carry on trunk and a leather doctors bag that she slung over her shoulder - she was a woman of practical means - Katrina bid the driver a good evening and hurriedly went on. Erwin was at the door with a fitful expression on his mustached face. He welcomed her in from the rain and removed her sodden traveling <br><br>"Your letter, Erwin," was the first thing out of Katrina's mouth in haste. She thrust the water speckled paper toward him as if he needed proof, "Why have you been so vague? What happened?" asked miss Adler, yearning for a satisfying answer.<br><br>"Oh, there she is!" came the heavily accented voice across the foyer. A little old woman, Mrs. Huber, came out from the kitchens to greet her. Her dark grey hair was pulled back into a bun framed with thin braids, with a piercing omniscient gaze that was off-set by a little curved button nose. The pair practically raised Katrina when her mother was ill and father unable, or unwilling, due to constraints of his work.<br><br>"I have her dress prepared," Elza told Erwin offhandedly, her voice a bit quieter.<br><br>"What dress?" Katrina pursued her comment, thinking she'd made something up for the funeral.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Feverous {Andronica &amp; Sabre}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>30-06-2015, 07:22:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Erwin, stone-faced and unreadable as the day Katrina was born, quietly accepted back his letter and held it to his chest in a poised, graceful apology. "Lady von Adler," he began smoothly after a pause, the first time Katrina had ever heard Erwin call her that, before Mrs. Huber interrupted and imposed herself as always in the conversation. Elza kept methodical time where Erwin would spend it all on quiet pause and propriety, and tonight Katrina was late to the ball.<br><br>"What do you mean you hadn't told her?" Elza snapped aloud when Erwin whispered in her ear. Mr. Huber pulled his cap from his balding head and apologized not for his silence but that his next letter was apparently delayed. "You have an invitation from the castle, my Lady, for tonight in particular. We worried you would not arrive for another day and night, but-"<br><br>"Hush now, and follow me, Young Miss," Mrs. Huber huffed, holding Katrina by the hand as she always did. "She's late as is, any later and the road might be too dangerous!" Erwin bit his cheek and made a faint noise disapproving of Elza's familiarity, but said nothing about that cryptic warning. He took up Katrina's luggage and followed after them inside.<br><br>The Adler estate, pressed tight like all townhouses, still imposed upon the street with its three stories and sharp shadows cast off its ornate facade. Katrina passed through the same doors as generations of Adlers had, now as its young matriarch. An oil lamp hung just outside the front door with a strong, fragrant aroma gently wafting from the fixture. The lamp was familiar, but the incense was not. The rest of the estate was the same. The hallways, doors half cracked open to side rooms, a narrow staircase just as one entered, everything was only half as young Katrina might remember. Shadows and years of neglect had aged the poor home terribly.<br><br>"Very sorry, Young Miss," Elza said shaking her head after closing the front door shut behind them. Erwin immediately turned to lock the door while his wife continued, "but neither of us had much time to restore the house. It's been many years since your father locked up the gate and moved into his workshop." Mrs. Huber trailed off quickly clapping her hands at Erwin for his ring of keys, but mostly and obviously trying to avoid the subject of Katrina's father, his work, death, and God knows what else in the time she was away. It had never been the place of the Hubers to ask why, but Elza wondered like everyone else about the late von Adler. <br><br>Erwin pursed his lips tight, his wife apparently oblivious about the nature of Master Alexander's passing. Only Mr. Huber and Katrina knew, even if the new Lady von Adler knew nothing else about how or why. Handing a ring of keys to his wife, Erwin averted his eyes and shuffled quickly down the hallway while Elza hurriedly moved for the staircase beckoning Katrina to follow upstairs. "You must be tired, Young Miss, but it wouldn't do to shun the Lord his hospitality. Your late father worked so closely with the castle these past few years, you know. Very generous work it was! Now come, child, you must see the gift that was sent for you just yesterday!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Feverous {Andronica &amp; Sabre}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Andronica</strong> on <strong>30-06-2015, 21:32:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Clearly Katrina was being left in the dark about something voluntarily. Whatever it was that had not reached her ears yet, however, she did not blame on Erwin. He was an older man and sometimes she suspected things slipped past his usually keen mind. The state of the house was a reflection of her father's descent into obscurity and ridicule, but also of the age of the only servants in the home. Kat doubted the old pair could keep up with the large town house. A small smile returned to her face as she felt Elza take her hand, the closest thing to motherly affection she ever experienced. The pair truly had been a stand-in for the family she longed for but was robbed of due to madness, illness, and death.<br><br>"I'm sure the Lord can understand a bit of tardiness," Katrina said by way of trying to assuage her companions. She followed Mrs. Huber along dutifully as the house in its new state was revealed to her. Darker, dustier, but still habitable. Although she wrinkled her nose slightly as she passed the incense that was not at all like the perfumed scent her mother was fond of using to wash the house in exoticism. Later on it was merely a way for her father to disguise the revolting scents coming from his work station in the basement, but Kat liked to think her father used it because it reminded him of her late mother.<br><br>She remained quiet as the topic of her father came up and left just as quickly as it had surfaced. Instead, she focused on looking over the awkward topic toward something new and more appealing. As she walked up every step squealed with age and wear under the fine Persian carpet that was cut to fit the winding staircase many years ago. Elza was right to think Katrina was tired - and hungry - but the newest Junker would soon learn that such things stepped to the side when it came to the dangerous game of socialization.<br><br>Hesitantly Katrina followed Elza to her room which showed signs of being recently cleaned. The hearth was void of a fire but some candles were lit on the nearby table, her old mahogany desk whose drawers were still brimming with notes and sketches. Her large bedframe was carved from the same wood and outfitted with am embroidered quilt over fine linen sheets. The room itself was at the front end of the home and fairly large in size. At least it was still spacious with all the furniture and two women inside. On the bed was a long white box outfitted with a silk ribbon, which Katrina delicately unraveled and opened. She gasped.<br><br>The dress inside was beautiful and curiously, of the costume variety. Dated compared to modern fashion. Kat tilted her head as she looked back to Elza, who nodded to indicate that was what she would be wearing that night. Hurriedly she undressed and donned the new outfit, which was a bit difficult to get into. Fortunately Elza was on enough in years that the style and corset were not alien to her. Within ten minutes she was dressed again and had a bit of rouge on her lips, while her hair was piled high as per a request in the letter to fit the particular mood at court. <br><br>Shortly thereafter the carriage was drawn up to the front of the house and she climbed inside, unaware of just what would transpire when she visited the Lord.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Feverous {Andronica &amp; Sabre}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sabre</strong> on <strong>22-07-2015, 06:53:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The castle's carriage driver, an old gargoyle still alive after so many years, eerily followed Katrina with his narrow gaze as she climbed aboard until he met Elza's harsh glare. With a face and undaunted nerve like stone he just tipped his faded hat and eased his old rifle further up his lap. He'd come by in brighter days to personally escort her father, and just as taciturn as he was back then he stiffly snapped his reins and nudged the twin horses forward. <br><br>What the cabin Katrina climbed onto lacked in youth, its wood wrinkled and upholstery splitting apart, it made up for in the timeless elegance of its hand carved finish and trim. And a certain comfort, too, set it apart just as it and Katrina's new elegant look set her apart from the old city slowly passing by her window. Though most had turned in for the night, with only a few windows aglow with light and life, the streets could not have changed for the better since she left. Away from the center of empire and capital Iserlohn slept under centuries of timeless subsistence, and Katrina cut through it toward the castle.<br><br>The once sparse forest between the city and castle had overgrown, its branches scratching the roof and windows as the carriage approached fast. But once past the ancient stone gates Damassia's courtyard spread out abruptly in all directions. Without the sun or the white of fresh show to highlight its stark silhouette, the castle towered above in spire after Gothic spire like needle-tipped pine, with buttresses like gnarled branches and walls as thick as several trunks. A handful of candles at the windows pulled small parts of the castle façade from the shadows, the rest remaining hidden from existence every time a cloud passed before the moon.<br><br>Katrina's door swung open, and the driver hesitated, as though no one would know if he climbed aboard and locked the cabin door behind him. But with a nervous glance over his shoulder and then a slow turn of his hand he offered Katrina any help in climbing down in such a layered costume while stepping aside. The cabin doorway faced the castle's front gate, a gargantuan set of doors meters tall that opened slowly, and out through its crack approached a chamberlain flanked by two guards armed not with rifles but elegant, broad spontoons, the type that might line the Berlin museum's armory. The chamberlain, too, walked out from an old portrait dressed in billow, slashed silk and tights that terribly clashed with a face as stern as Erwin's.<br><br>"Jungfrau Von Adler. We have been expecting you all night."
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>