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As the first daughter of the current generation of Lohstrens, there was an almost familial obligation to name her Morla. Countess Morla Lohstren was her grandmother — a mighty and formidable leader that, despite losing her own sons to the war of the two kingdoms, would be a promising namesake. Up to this point, Count Dedrick and his beautiful Taniford wife had given their family line nothing but sons. Their eldest Warrick held the position of Lord Protector and Heir of Estermarch. Second in line was Dalrick, and he acted as his brother's second in command. The pair were connected at the hip, protecting one another to the end. Henrick was the third, and he was a young and pudgy boy who was always ill, remaining indoors with his nose in books and lessons. Then there was sweet Eldrick. He was to be a Knight, and already bounced around the Summit Halls on his wooden pony with his play sword flailing over his head. Eldrick was two years old when finally his father could uphold the promise he made to his mother and young Morla was born.
The firstborn daughter is said to have not cried a single note when she was born. Some say this is because she came out stillborn — as white as the dead, hair drained of all color. It was only a prayer to the Guardians that she was given life, though they could not restore life's color to her cheeks. Truth is, Morla the Younger was born an albino with skin as white as snow, the grayest blue eyes, and frosty hair. She was weak, needing several weeks under the care of healers and her mother, cloistered from her brothers. She was three weeks old by the time she was strong enough to attend her own naming ceremony, and they had to hold it at twilight instead of the ceremonial morning as her skin was so sensitive to the sun's rays. As promised, they named her Morla Elenora Lohstren the Second, and as the firstborn daughter she also became the Flower of the March.
The first two years of Morla the Younger's life was marked by tragedy. Warrick died on the field of battle, and young Henrick died of a terrible fever that could not be culled. Dalrick became both Lord Protector and Heir of Estermarch in his eldest brother's stead, though he would only hold the honor for five years before he would also be slain. Morla the Older came to her son several nights before the Count was to name young Eldrick his heir, and insisted that he bade the warning from the Guardians and name his firstborn daughter as the heir instead. The former Lady Equis had been a formidable ruler, and certainly so would the granddaughter with her name. Despite this, the Count refused his mother perhaps due to the weak state of his daughter. At dawn, Eldrick was named heir, and Morla the Older vowed she would do her granddaughter justice and teach her all she knew.
Eldrick and Morla were always close. He looked after her, ensured she always had her sun protection when they ventured into the wilds of the March, and gave her, her first sword lesson. They often said that Eldrick and Morla were like Summer and Winter — him all warm and golden, her all cool and white. But they also balanced each other. As Morla grew into a young woman, she attended many lessons from her grandmother while also preparing for her own duties and ceremonies. When her first bleeding came, like her brothers and cousins, she was sent out into the wilds on her own to capture herself a wild foal that would become her own. Eldrick, worried for her sister, tracked her through her entire ceremony. It was the first time the pair had a true dispute as Morla discovered she was being followed. Enraged by her brother's constant babying, they fought standing there in a cool mountain valley. It was then that a monstrous mountain lion, brought to them by their noise and disregard. It attacked, and it was only through their combined efforts did the twelve-year-old Morla and fourteen-year-old Eldrick take down the beast.
Eldrick then understood the strength of his own sister. He allowed her to finish her Budding Ceremony without interference. Like her grandmother, she captured a young colt of the wild Plainsrunners. A beautiful black creature, just her opposite, with a moon eye and an uneven blaze. She called him Chara — short for the Old Tongue name for "friend." He is still with her today, with another decade or more before him under the watchful care of the Horse Lords.
It has been a decade since that day, and Morla has come into her own as a Flower of the March. Some years ago, she began to venture to the Citadel to tutelage under her friend, the Princess Aylanora Taniford. Their families already close thanks to Morla's mother and Aylanora's summers spent at Estermarch, Morla soon became a good friend of the Princess and was given the chance to be her Lady-in-Waiting. Leaving much of the March in the hands of her parents and grandmother, Morla began to travel with Aylanora, particularly to Wolveshire.
This woman may not be a woman at all, but an alabaster statue turned to flesh and blood. She stands five-foot-five, and her poise is naturally graceful; she posseses an curvaceous frame that is neither too thick nor too thin. Her skin is startling white without a single beauty mark or imperfection. Long, hoarfrost locks spill down her back in soft waves. Elegant cheekbones, sharp jawline and squared chin all come together to form a beautiful oval face. Her full and subtle lips that fall naturally into a serene line, and she has a straight nose with a little blunted tip that does not quite upturn. From beneath her light brows and between her thick lashes is a pair of gray-blue eyes that resemble bottle glass.
Even in the heat of summer, this spectre-colored woman is often covered from head to toe in flowing fabrics. Her gown today is as red as blood, offsetting the cool white of her skin and hair. It is neatly tailored to her torso, laced up her back all the way to the base of her skull in dark silver satin. The bodice of the dress is needled in lighter red vine-work with white alpine flowers blossoming over the rightside of her bosom. The collar of the dress extends up to just under her chin, hiding away her slender throat. An inverted triangle cutout exposes the flat of her chest, the point extending toward the center of her sternum between her breasts. The skirts of her gown flow out from the roundness of her hips; they fall to her feet, hiding her dark grey leather riding boots. Should she be outdoors, a shawl of pale red is drawn up around her shoulders and creates a cowl over her head to guard off the sun's rays.
Much like her namesake, Morla the Younger appears to possess a backbone of solid steel. While outwardly frail those that discount her political astuteness or tenacity are sorely mistaken. An idealized blend of realism with appreciation for the whimsical and creative arts, she knows everything has a time and place. Compassionate beyond measure when it comes to the well-being of her family, friends, and people of Estermarch — she tends to exhibit a impressive amount of composure when needed. Unlike some of her more emotive siblings, Morla tends to favor keeping her emotions close to her chest. She remains as much of a mystery as the night itself and has a tendency to surprise with her unrelenting vigilance to tasks at hand. A consummate night owl, it is rare to see her out and about during the daytime hours — only adding further to her mystery. She is rumored to be a strong ally to those who win her loyalty and even more formidable foe. Many whisper that she bears her name well, taking after her grandmother in boldness as much as inner strength. Though in seclusion for the past few months, she is back and more determined than ever to see atonement for the recent traumas of the southern kingdom.
Recent Logs
(alek amira cassia deidra eldrick event jerric laketown-circus logs morla niniane pawel prada regina roltoff sammel sarah tamara thomas tylon xander)
(alek amira augustus event isabella jerric kameron katarina laketown-circus logs morla nathan paule pawel prada roltoff sarah xander)
Recent Memoirs
| Keep Holding On - Avril Lavigne | You're not alone, together we stand. I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand. When it gets cold and it feels like the end - there's no place to go, you know I won't give in. |
| Demons - Imagine Dragons | So they dug your grave and the masquerade will come calling out at the mess you made. |
| Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons | So I bare my skin, and I count my sins. I close my eyes and I take it in. And I'm bleeding out, I'm bleeding out for you. |
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Princess Aylanora Taniford : Dearest friend and sister of my heart, we shared many laughs and tears through the years. You were an inspiration to us all. Your death shall not go in vain. Your story ended much too soon. Be at peace my dear princess, for I shall have none until those responsible for your death atone for their actions. |
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Prince Samwell Taniford : It is rare to encounter a Prince who wishes to be known more by his own accomplishments than the title he bears upon birth - rare and something worthy of a great deal of respect. I only regret that our meetings always seem to coincide with some unfortunate news. Perhaps one day we shall have the chance to meet outside of ill-tidings, but until then, I will continue to hold the Sir Commander in high regards for his services and loyalties to his family and throne. |
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King Darrin Raethkin : You always were a deep and rare contradiction and it appears the years have done little to temper that within your nature. While I know many have long since lost their hope in your redemption, I believe the boy I once knew rests somewhere deep within you still. It is a long road to go from dipping our curls in inkwells to slaying one's own sister - and that is a journey not even a skilled man such as you can make without a forced hand. I will do what I can to release you from the Harpy's grip and bring you back to us once more. You deserve a chance at redemption - Ayla would have wanted that much for you at least. |
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Princess Keldra Fayre Taniford : There are not quite enough words to fully capture the essence of Aylanora's youngest sister and newly Crowned Princess to our beloved South, so I shall not endeavor to try. However, I do feel she has a great many years of learning to undertake and only hours of time to do so. May the Guardians preserve us all, for we will need their patience now more than ever. |
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Lady Tamara Taniford : Beloved Cousin - with all my lessons there is still a great deal about life itself that seems so very foreign to me at times. You carry yourself daily with an inner grace and poise that does our family so very proud, and I can only hope for you the kind of life you would wish to live most. Remember that no matter which House you eventually call home, you are still and always will be a Lohstren at heart. |
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Sir Eldrick Lohstren : Beloved brother you are the sunshine within my life and equal in every measure of the word. A sister could never ask for a better brother or braver knight. |
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Sir Moirae Lohstren : Dear dear sister, you fight amongst the best of them and with a finesse of your own. I could not ask for a better personal guard. If I am the flower of the March, you are the foundation upon which I lean in my time of need. I wish you the best in all things and when you need it most, know that I shall always be there for you. |
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Sir Dalyros Lohstren : Darling brother, you are as temperate as the storm which rages across the plains. I wish your words could be as practiced as your sword at times. Just remember, knight or not, you are never too old for father to take a switch to your backside. |
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Lady Collette Lohstren : Any tears shed shall be for the memory of the sister you should have been rather than the selfish spoiled wretch you have become. You have disgraced the family and shamed Father halfway to the grave. For these crimes and your insolence, you will one day be punished. Upon your death, may you be buried beneath the soil for the worms to eat your rot. You are dead to us all. May the Guardians show you mercy where you have failed to show it to others. |
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Sir Xander Lohstren : My impish cousin, you truly do have the face to launch a thousand ships. I do not know whether to tether you to the stables or let you roam free amongst the plains. Sometimes, I think I just might envy your freedom. |
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Duke Pawel Varghem : Though blessed with a charming countenance, I sometimes wonder if he was not dropped upon his head one too many times in childhood by the nursemaid. While I have no issue with seeking wisdom in the words of our fathers before us, there does come a time when each must stand upon their own two feet with confidence if they are to truly be considered a leader. Quite the lothario, or rumors seem to suggest, I suppose there are some women that really will overlook anything in lieu of a title. Poor man, I really do hope he gets his wits about him soon for the sake of his house as well as the South as a whole. |
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Sir Aethel Varghem : Coming Soon |
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Lady Prada Varghem : Charming and a sound companion in mind and spirit, I could not hope to find a more pleasing consort to my beloved cousin. I look with promising hopes to the time we might be able to officially welcome you into the Lohstren family. Until then, I shall enjoy whatever time I can manage to steal of you from my cousin. |
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Lady Carisse Varghem : Coming Soon |
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Nimue Sollinger : Coming Soon |
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Malcolm Sollinger : A most interesting and surprising addition to our home, I am both intrigued and amazed at how quickly you have endeared yourself to young Rae's heart. Though you are a bit coarser than most, I find your brand of direct honesty to be refreshing in a world filled with flowery words. You shall have a place amongst the Horse Lords for as long as you see fit, or until such time as we deem you no longer worthy of our beloved Rae. I believe it should go without saying that if you ever crush Rae's spirit…. well, let us just see that you do not. |
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Gustav Sollinger : Coming Soon |
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Cordelia Sollinger : Coming Soon |
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Crown Prince Jerric Rhaedan : Poor Deluded Prince of the North - you honestly believe you are within the right on all things. You seem to have forgotten that a Royal is as dependent upon his people as they are upon him. It would serve you well to take lessons from the Taniford Royals when it comes to preservation of one's own temperament. I have no doubt you possess the capacity to be greater than you are, but perhaps it is a challenge too big for you to truly undertake. |
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Queen Kerilyn Raethkin : Viperous spawn of the Chasm in royal clothing - you may profess your innocence but in my heart I know the truth. May the Guardians curse your every breath and may one day you be brought into accounting for all your ills thrust upon others. May your union be barren and your reign plagued by never-ending strife. May your days be short and the memory of you existence stricken from all records upon this earth. |
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Prince Stefan Rhaedan : I have to question whether it is better to live with infamy or be known as a wastrel amongst royalty. It is a pity, the best that Prince Stefan can hope to aspire to is the infamy of his black-hearted sister, Kerilyn, if lucky. |
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Princess Niniane Rhaedan : Perhaps one of the most charming of the Rhaedan brood, it is hard to discount that this princess at least comes equipped with proper manners. While I do believe there is more beneath the surface than she lets show, she certainly plays the masquerade well. Her ability to maintain her composure in less than hospitable circumstances is a testament to a more even temperament than her brother. However this could just make her the most dangerous of all her siblings combined. It is a pity really, because there are times she reminds me a great deal of Aylanora. |
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Princess Amira Rhaedan : The Royal Whore of Eikeren, at least most ladies of ill repute are paid for the services they so freely offer to others. The princess would do well to remember one can bestow grace and favor upon men without giving up /all/ her favors in the process. Blood a royal may make, but her actions make her unfit to rule over a lowly hovel of dirt let alone a kingdom. |
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Neale Riedel : Unknown |
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Sammel Riedel : Unknown |
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Augustus Auldholme : What sort of nobleman helps a proper noblewoman steal off in the middle of the night and defies his own throne to do so? I have heard that love can make a man blind, but this is clearly to the point of idiocy. As the old fable goes: A scorpion cannot help but sting and kill the one that carries it across the river, no matter how close, because it is simply its nature to do so. Believe in the fantasy all you want, but love only conquers all in fairy tales - and this, my dear Augustus, is far from a fairy tale. I wish you the best of life, whatever might remain of it. |
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Victricia Auldholme : Unknown |
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Cassia Auldholme : Unknown |
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Count Paule Westmark : Coming Soon |
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Countess Katarina Westmark : Coming Soon |