Voice of the Twin Roses
Overview
The construction of the Arbor of the Twin Roses was commissioned by the Senate during the Winter Solstice 383YE and completed shortly before the Spring Equinox 384YE.
Responsibilities
The Voice of the Twin Roses is responsible for gathering and immortalising tales of true Love and true Glory not only across Dawn but in the wider Empire. They are also responsible for investigating stories of the spiritual powers of Love and Glory and demonstrating how these two ideals inspire, and in turn arise from, Virtue. If the Arbor were to be threatened, it would be the responsibility of the Voice to face those threats; likewise should any opportunity related to the Arbor arise the Voice would decide how to respond.
Powers
A Portion of Liao
The number of pilgrims and troubadours who visit the Arbor of Twin Roses sees the Voice provided with 14 doses of liao by each season by the civil service, to be used as they see fit.
Love and Glory
The noble house of Arien has long been a supporter in the pursuit of Love and Glory; it was Lady Zaha Arien who provided the designs for the Arbor. House Arien has committed to providing the Voice with two bondrings a year - one at the Spring Equinox and one at the Autumn Equinox - for as long as the responsibilities of the title explicitly state that they are to search for tales of true Love and true Glory in the wider Empire and not only in Dawn. There is some expectation that the Voice of the Twin Roses will deliver these to people they have deemed an inspiration but the choice ultimately lies with them.
Appointment
The Voice of the Twin Roses is a national position appointed by the Synod. It is elected by judgement of the National Assembly of Dawn each year during the Spring Equinox.
The title can be held by any citizen of Dawn. They can be revoked by the General Assembly, the Dawn National Assembly, and by the Assembly of the Nine.
| Summit | Elected | Votes |
|---|---|---|
| Spring Equinox 387YE | Nista Zaborov | 148 Votes |
| Spring Equinox 386YE | Noble Seri of The Twisted Rose | 60 Votes |
| Spring Equinox 385YE | Lady Ailsa Tamerlaine | 29 Votes |
| Spring Equinox 384YE | Estienne de Gauvain | 58 Votes |
Recent Elections
This title is currently held by Nista Zaborov; it will be reelected at Spring Equinox 388YE. The table to the right shows the citizens who have been elected to hold this title in the years since Empress Britta died.
Arbor of the Twin Roses
The Arbor of the Twin Roses is located in Auvanne within sight of Endric's Hill to honour of the troubadour and exemplar Elayne Silverlark. Elayne is famous throughout the Empire for spreading tales of romance and adventure as well as stories of glory and heroism. Her stories were not solely those of the knights and witches of Dawn, however - according to legend she both took tales of her homeland to other nations and brought new stories of the glorious deeds of people in other nations to her countryfolk.
The structure consists of an extensive and beautiful garden surrounding two towers - one for Glory and one for Love - of fine white granite. These towers serve as repositories for tales, stories, and songs celebrating glory and love, and provide quarters for any troubadour who wish to visit.
Following the Spring Equinox, the architects installed a beautiful white marble plaque naming the citizens who helped pay for the construction of the Arbor. Each name is etched into the stone and then the writing illuminated with inlaid orichalcum. The whole thing is embellished with beautiful roses carved into the marble, all around the edges of the tablet.
Tales of the Twin Roses
The Voice of the Twin Roses can submit a single tale depicting true Love or true Glory to the towers each season.
The Gryphon's Hunt
Written by Ser Wren Scrivener
A long time ago,
In the Land of Glory and love,
There was a brave, gallant knight
The troubadours often sang of.
Lord Rhydian de Rondell,
A knight brave and true,
And I tell you this tale,
For they could soon be you!
On the tourney fields they fought with Pride,
With their Young Gryphons Loyally by their side,
Sers Isaac and Joan, Emerick and Wren,
Good Elaine and Alice, Galleron and all them.
They went on adventures,
they fought hard and long,
Against the Deadwood Knight,
Even the Lictors - with song!
But deep in the Barrens,
A great evil lurked.
A creature that loved violence,
For blood it did thirst!
It was a manticore,
From the time of King Penni the White;
A creature the match for any normal knight!
But the Young Gryphon smiled,
They could accomplish this quest.
They’d face any foe,
And best every test.
This manticore called itself the Earl of the Groves,
Said it was as Dawnish as an Astolat rose.
So Rhydian said to her Grace, Lady Griffinsbane;
“Some people think this creature could be Dawnish.”
She said: “Think again!”
So when all’s said and done,
And that’s all of that,
Their quest now begun,
From fair Astolat.
The Earl of the Groves is a creature most vile,
Making deals with eternals of fury and spite,
Ser Rhydian said with a smile,
“I’ll pick up my sword and take up this fight.”
They went to the Summer realm,
To meet the Witch of the Woods,
With nobles and yeofolk,
Seeking their own knighthoods.
She gave them a gift,
A cup from the Unicorn King.
Jaheris loathed the Manticore,
He loathed its evil sting.
Then spoke the witch,
“If you issue a challenge,
With your magic banner -
I know King Jaheris will handle the matter.
He’ll provoke the eternals to give you a quest,
To win you the favour - so do what you do best!
Defeat Wicked Hayaak, and at least one other,
Then you can complete your quest -
Knight-Protector of Summer!”
Rhydian issued the challenge,
with the unicorn’s chalice,
To draw Old King Hayaak away from his palace.
With a smile on their face and the cup in their hand,
They issued a challenge. They made a demand.
Ser Rhydian had met this eternal, once some time ago.
When weakened by treachery, when down on his luck,
He knelt to the Knight-Protector! Who could well have struck,
His head clean from his shoulders -
But mercy stirred in the end!
He offered the eternal a hand,
He said “rise, my friend.”
King Hayaak’s memory must have been terribly short
For he took Rhydian’s words in the worst possible sport.
He said “fine, I’ll play. We’ll go for a hunt.
We’ll see if you can catch my fastest herald - Bloodrunt!”
With a laugh and a titter he threw back his head,
“If you win, I’ll give you my favour!
If you don't, you’ll be dead!”
The land held its breath.
The nation stood still.
But the Knight-Protector stepped forth
With a true iron will.
So through the regio,
With friends all around.
They marched to the Badlands,
To glory unbound.
With brave Galleron, who you know from my tales,
Who fought with the Northern Eagle, and on the Grand Tour -
You’ve never seen such a warrior before!
A changeling knight-errant, in whom our hero places great faith -
For he bore the banner, to take them all, safe!
The Arms of the Knight-Protector was Galleron’s task.
He opened the portal, he needed only to ask!
There was amazing Lady Nimue.
A de Rondell supreme.
Who has bled for her country
And killed for her queen.
She bears the Moonsword,
The Grand Tour’s final prize
And scans the battlefield with sharp Briar eyes.
Who has fought Grendel and Jotun,
Vallorn and the Druj.
A sharp kind of beauty,
But a heart that is huge.
And the Great Earl de Rondell,
Martin is his name.
In battlefield command he won his bright fame!
A gryphon who sits on top of the keep,
Who watches his flock like a shepherd guards sheep.
Who commands great respect, amongst earls and queens;
Who leads all of the best, hardest skirmish teams!
There was also a Marcher,
Ser Rhydian somehow doesn’t spurn -
A folk hero who goes by the name Guildenstern.
He once caught a star fell clean from the sky
Guildenstern truly is a unique kind of guy.
He is Loyal and Brave, and though a little bit sad,
He’s a great hero and plus -
he’s like your old Marcher dad!
And of course, Emperor Vesna, who you must know well,
Who banished the Black Wind! Who wears her crown well!
Who sits on the Throne, to rule, steward, and guide.
To teach us Ambition, Prosperity, and Pride.
They’ve never missed senate, even in sixteen seasons,
But went to the Badlands - she must have had reasons.
Ser Rhydian is the Emperor’s champion,
You might hear the Emperor say
“Ser Rhydian’s the greatest warrior in this age and day!”
So the six stepped together, out into the heat,
To chase Hayaak’s herald - named Bloodrunt the Fleet.
Rhydian in full harness, Hayaak dressed for the hunt.
The message was clear, in fact it was blunt.
For the Knight-Protector, this was a hero’s quest.
For Hayaak, a pastime -
he didn’t think he could be best!
The first time Hayaak caught up,
They clashed in steel and in pain.
The second they rose with fire, again,
Hayaak had shattered their shield
and split clean their helm.
For the first time they had met a foe they could not overwhelm.
They spoke to the Eternal,
they threw down their own challenge :
“Why so scared you had to rig this?
Did you think in a fair fight,
You just wouldn’t manage?”
Hayaak laughed, mended Rhydian’s shield,
And with a sharp gesture returned him his steel.
“That’s the one I owe you.
Now run! That was the deal!”
They tore off into the woods,
Through brambles and vines.
They clashed with King Hayaak another five times.
Four times a tincture or clever blow saw them win the day,
And come away a little bit better from each little affray!
But on the fifth! Tragedy struck!
Rhydian’s sword was clean shattered!
They were all out of luck.
They reached for their dagger - but it was laid in the dust!
King Hayaak picked up Rhydian’s broken sword
“It looks like you lost.”
But Ser Rhydian had Loyal friends the knight truly adored,
And called out to their sister - “Lady Nimue! My sword!”
The Lady and Moonsword burst onto the scene,
A spark of bright blue in the dusty old green.
She ran swift and Proud, with the Moonsword in hand
She held out the light, like the stars had it planned!
She threw the sword Rhydian had won into their waiting grip,
And only agility meant she didn’t trip,
But now Rhydian pelted, fast as a whip
They’d finally given King Hayaak the slip!
They ran through the brambles, the dust, and the heat,
At last would our great hero meet their defeat?
But at last! In the distance, a fork in the trees!
There was Bloodrunt the herald, as swift as the breeze.
He held a red favour tightly in his fist,
The knight knew such a chance could not well be missed.
They pushed to a sprint,
each breath burning with pain,
Their muscles screamed,
But their heart was loud with a name!
He called on their promise, always to win,
They called on this oath, they called on this vow,
The moment was here - the time was right now!
There rose up a slope,
A wave of dirt and of stone,
The kind that seems daunting,
The kind that says “stand alone”.
The slope was beneath their heels
Their heart pounded louder than war,
This was the quest they had been chosen for.
Bloodrunt slowed just a bit,
Just a breath, just a hair,
And Rhydian raised the sword high into the air.
The Moonsword came down with one final yell,
Like the crack and the ring of an old Highborn bell.
Bloodrunt’s back was torn open,
He fell down like a sack,
The knight rolled him over to flat on his back,
He claimed the bright favour - but did not attack.
Hayaak the Hawklord,
from the left came into sight,
From the right came the Imperials,
Who’d witnessed this fight.
The air was silent,
Even the beasts held their breath.
Was the brave Knight-Protector to be Bloodrunt’s death?
But Rhydian stood, heaving breath to their lungs
And the Bandit King spoke with a kingly tongue:
“You have won, Ser Rhydian. Knight of the East.
For that I will not make you the main course of my feast.
Take your prize and be gone from my terrible and fierce Badlands,
I’d rather you have the favour than in the Earl of the Groves’ hands.”
Rhydian inclined their head, but spoke with Ambition,
Despite their quite dangerous, precarious position -
“And what of this herald? Who serves in each breath?
I would spare him. I do not ask the price of his death.”
King Hayaak looked bemused, but he did inquire,
“Depends how he served me, in what did transpire.
Did he run swift? Did he fight hard and well?”
“King Hayaak and Bloodrunt were the toughest foes I’ve felled.”
“Then grant him his life, Rhydian, if you will spare him the price.”
“First return my sword, King Hayaak, come now - be nice.”
The Outlaw Prince looked down, and perhaps in shock,
He gave back Queenmaker with a chuckle and nod.
“You’re a great Knight-Protector, but time is now short.
Archers! Send these mortals away from my court!”
So the six heroes departed under the only rain,
The Badlands ever sees, one of razors and pain.
Arrows whizzed passed their heads, but Rhydian knew,
If Hayaak wanted to kill them, these arrows might just strike true.
This was another test, a matter of appearance,
One last test for mortal perseverance.
They burst through the trees, to the portal they go,
To land in the grand Imperial Regio!
They passed through the realms, through the Hall of the World,
To the green Anvil grass where their banner unfurled.
They paused for a moment, such a reveal must be theatric,
A knight should have a sense for the great and dramatic.
Especially when you’ve done something not done,
In some decades or more;
To fight an eternal and win in the score.
The Knight held up the favour, and let out a roar,
As such has rarely been heard from the Young Gryphon before.
The Empire had gathered, family, friends and peers.
Their voices loud as the thunder, their echoing cheers,
They marched back to Dawn, where Earl Martin spoke:
“Hear me, Glorious Nobles and Loyal Yeofolk!
I give you a knight, first sword to the Queen -
Who has been to a place no mortal has been!
They have fought an eternal, in single combat -
But better than that, my knight has come back!”
Rhydian held the favour aloft, and spoke to the crowd,
“My nation, I love you. Did I make you Proud?”
Their roar was an answer we will never forget,
But the moral of this tale I explain to you true -
The next Champion of the Empire - it could well be you!
The Phoenix Rose
Written by Starac Sijed Orzel
She’s the last Rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
And all her companions
Are faded and gone;
Of all of her kindred,
One rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
And give sigh for sigh.
And I will not leave her,
I’ll be her thorn
For together my true love
We will weather the storm,
Though winter may wither
Her sweet petaled head
The blight that assails her
Is turned and has fled
My Love and her rosebud
I’ll keep safe from harm
No hurt shall befall them
Whilst wrapped in my arms
And I’ll always be there
Just as I am now
To defend and protect her
Thus fulfilling my vow
When winter is done
And Spring has run through
With the Sun on the Spires
I’ll be waiting for you
And I will be standing
In Sweet summer Rain
For the Rose of the Phoenix
To bloom once again
The Challenge
Written by Earl Ailsa Tamerlaine
A hand reached out
Callused and streaked with dried blood
“Don’t let them forget me”
His voice was cracking
The other hand is wrapped
tied to his love by a golden ribbon
A favour tethering him
To the vanished dream of their future
Does reassurance reach my eyes?
As I put a hand on his shoulder
I realise how courage is beautiful but fragile
As a soul stares into the Labyrinth
“How could they forget you?”
But remembrance is the duty of those left behind
When blood stains rinse, tears dried
We still sing even if it hurts
So my headstrong friend has gone ahead
And as he entreated me, I entreat you
Sing of your friends memories
Even if your voice cracks
Give them their flowers while they breathe
Breathe life into their legend
Some will only remember Charge and Hayaak’s Thorn
But I remember the friend who laid down a challenge
Mother and Child of Dawn
Written by Rossaria Weaver
You run through the fields without care,
I chase you.
You Smile at the strangers with adoration,
I watch them.
You dance to the beat of the battle drums,
I fear for us.
You come to Anvil because it is fun,
I came to Anvil to keep us safe.
You hide away from Imperial Orcs,
I say hi.
You whimper from the ferocity of a banner,
I get closer.
You shy away from a bloody soldier,
I offer aid.
You grow from my example,
I worry about that every day.
You wear the house colours they they are pretty,
I beam with pride.
You follow our Captain because you like her hair,
I trust her.
You ride on your Earls shoulders and laugh,
I clap for you.
You grow every day into a strong young girl,
I see you.
You are my child because of Blood?
I am your mother because of Love.
Finding Oasis
Written by Pumell and Cato i Emberbright i Guera
Two healers met in the sun, one eclipsed the other
Halo’ed,
A fleeting meeting, followed by a flurry of letters,
Quickly enamoured yet unsure of the other they could only trust another would arrive.
The families met twice by blade, to prove each was worthy of blood and name,
The tide failed to fell the drake.
Though cut and bruised nothing was lost,
Only new family gained,
And roses bloomed across the bay.
The Minstrel questioned love from the sea;
“How could Roses bloom in desert sands”
The lovers took each hand in kind;
“Sand alone will not a flower grow, but deep roots will always find oasis”
No more words from the Minstrel then,
Only tears like the tide,
And roses bloomed across the bay.
To this day the lovers walk,
Sowing seeds with every step.
Trusting reprieve will find them still;
A Lament for Aranel and Godric
Written by Emmeline Weaver of House du Gauvain
Gather round good people, I've a story to tell!
It's the sad tale of Godrice and Brave Aranel
They were lovers and champions our nation shall mourn
For they died as they lived, as great Heroes of Dawn
Knight protector of Winter was fair Aranel
And as champion of Accolades, Godric fought well.
Until all of the nation knew both of their names
For they died as they lived, winning Glory and fame
They had sworn that their loves and their lives they would share
Tested mettle and ardour into House Mortere
Their hearts and their names to each other they gave
And they died as they lived, being Loyal and Brave
In the forests of Skallahn these heroes were lost
For to win a great triumph at a terrible cost.
They say even the Jotun had tears on their face
When they died as they lived, in a true love's embrace
Lord Bryce & Lady Vivienne, or Love Defying Reason
Written by Ser Mercadier and Protectorate Rile
He was a lord of Griffinsong,
She Lady d'Acier;
And in a single grave they lie,
Dead on a single day.
He was a knight to Summer sworn,
She fought with breath and voice;
In Pride and glory equal matched,
In love each other's choice.
Beneath unfriendly stars he went
To face an unknown foe:
"This is my home, my Astolat,
It needs me; I will go."
For to the Harps of Astolat,
That summer breezes play,
Had heralds come to break and burn,
From out the Realm of Day.
The Cold Sun shines but cruelly,
To destroy its only goal:
Fuelled by a freezing Hatred
For all things that stir the soul.
And there in peaceful Astolat,
Upon that summer day,
The Cold Sun burned him to the bone,
And left him where he lay.
The dead brought to the Glory Square,
They laid them side by side;
And when she say him lying there
She held him close, and died.
One of a vile unnatural blow,
One of a heart sore torn;
She dead from Loyal love for him,
And he from love for Dawn.
Of all that knows no reasons -
Of laughter, beauty, art -
Love is the first and strangest
Of passions of the heart.
Love has no purpose but itself.
Love will not answer "Why?"
Love does not care to fade with time,
Nor with mere death to die.
As True Love overpowers death,
Know even as we mourn
So too the Cold Sun pales to naught
Against the blaze of Dawn<
The Tale of Yulia and the Heart of Ser Claudia Lovelorn
Once upon a time, upon the misty moors of Weirwater, there lived a young draughir enchantress of much Ambition. She loved her Nation. She loved Winter. And she loved her pack.
In Anvil town, she met Yulia Kasimirova Voronov, Senator for Miekarova and a fiery Varushkan Throne candidate, who was also lit with the fire of Ambition. They began a dance of courtship that would continue for the next few years.
Then, she was Enchantress Claudia and she was heir apparent of House Remys. She was dedicated deeply to the learning and application of Winter magic. She even rose up to create the position of Imperial Necromancer – someone who could advise on matters beyond the Labyrinth, guide Imperial citizens in matters regarding Whispers Through the Black Gate.
But there in lay dangers of the soul. The Eater of Love, a heinous construct that roamed from within the Labyrinth reached into the Anvil regio during the Autumn of 384 and struck at the Lady Claudia and her family. In its wanton greed, it clawed at their souls, and stole the Love from their hearts. They could no longer feel Love, and were told that they would have to learn how to construct and nourish it again.
Sadly during the same summit, the Heart knew no rest. There was a great conjunction, that led the armed assembled of Anvil through the Sentinel Gate. Yulia, Courageous as she was, joined her nation upon the field – marching to Zenith, to stop the hateful Druj from enacting shroud magic upon the Empire.
Yulia returned back through the Sentinel Gate, but mortally wounded. She came to the Glory Square to wish her darling farewell. There would be no grand Test for them to prove their love to House Remys. But their Love would be remembered. So in that moment, clasping hands in the Glory Square, Claudia went from Lady to Ser – she sundered her Nobility in order to marry Yulia and be bound together in troth and soul. They were married by the Earl of Fools, under the witness of all of Dawn. And in the moment of vows, now Ser Claudia felt that Love return to her heart as her darling Yulia slipped into the Labyrinth. The Love in her heart that all believed lost to the Eater of Love. To regain that which was lost, Claudia made a sacrifice, for the most Wintry of Loves.
She loves her Nation. She knew the Cost. She loves her pack. Know that great deeds are eternal.