Annatar Winterscale
From Changeling Venue
| Seeming | Fairest Shadowsoul |
|---|---|
| Court | Summer Court • |
| Freehold | Freehold of the Last Night |
| Player | Matt K |
Contents |
Overview
The war was a cracking and snapping of the Snipers aim,
The mud was a gulping and grasping, spoiling the soldiers game.
Death was a present companion in that foreign place.
And the infantryman was staring,
Staring, staring,
The infantryman was staring, at his true loves face.
In grey and white he saw her, her hair a ravens wing,
In picture perfect reflection, her eyes were depthless things,
With promises a-twinkle, and laughter bare concealed.
He knelt with careful caution,
He hid with careful caution,
He cowered with careful caution, in that bone clad field.
In teeth of granite and marble and thunder flashing high,
With dead stone angels holding vigil, he waited there to die.
Then upon the edge of vision he saw salvation come.
She stepped out of the purple shadows,
Came out from the purple shadows,
Swept out of the purple shadows, to her she bade him run.
In velvet shadows cloaked she gathered him close by,
Whispering enchanting nothings, never waiting for reply.
“Brave man you court destruction, solace lies this way.
Follow me to shadowed safety,
Come with me to shadowed safety,
Take my hand to shadowed safety, and live another day.”
Hand clasped the queen led him far from that blasted yard,
Through pathways dark and twisted, through hedgerows sharp and hard.
All the way she whispered and held his hand in a lovers clinch,
And she kissed him in the shadows,
In those purple shadows,
She kissed him in the shadows and made him 'to her prince.
Within her bone white palace, built by shadows and by the dead,
She took her mortal lover, took her prince to her bed.
She stripped his soul naked and clothed him in the night.
“My darling prince, “ she whispered,
Whispered, whispered.
“My darling prince,” she whispered, “stay until morning light.”
Her voice was melodic music, her lips like roses bled,
Her tresses dark and wondrous, skin white of the dead,
She flowed like twilight shadow, cruel laughter in her eye.
And her prince stood by her,
Always standing by her,
Dark souled they stood together and watch their victims die.
She bade him ride before her and bring her justice swift,
On a phantom steed of shadows, they ruled with a iron fist.
Her darling prince she called him, as he sent men to their grave.
Yet even as he loved her,
Despite the fact he loved her,
Because she made him love her, he was her willing slave.
Mimicking his queen demeanour, his soul stygian hell,
His body darkness beautiful with a chill of shadows as well,
A grasp of enervation, of death, taking life to feed.
His true loves face he’d forgotten,
Who he fought for he’d forgotten,
What he truly loved he’d forgotten, he’d forgotten his real need.
In castle of twilight purple, bone white walls of death,
He knelt his queen’s companion perhaps till his last breath.
But deep in the mazy recess sometimes his mind would sing,
A song of depthless eyes,
Of twinkled eyes,
A memory of a picture, of hair as raven’s wings.
Memory stirred in the shadows, so to his queen he marched,
“Lady your kindness helped me, but now I must depart.
For beyond these lands I must travel there is something I must find.
For though I love your kindness,
Your saving, solace kindness,
That shadowed kindness I must return to the love I left behind.
The regal queen watched in deep purple shadows dressed,
Sat high on her bone white throne, she listened to his request,
In her court he stood, clothed in the shadowed night,
“My darling prince”, she whispered,
“Sweet prince,” she whispered,
“My darling sweet prince,” she whispered, “Stay until morning light.”
Twelve days to the shadowed palace, he asked her for his boon,
Standing alone in that court room, he begged for an answer soon.
Twelve times to her court he begged her, twelve times he sojourned till day.
Till in his heart was bursting,
Deep his heart was bursting,
And away from that court he went though he did not know the way.
From the shadowed bone keep he wandered searching for his home
And in that shadowed castle the queen laughed on her throne of bone.
Through brambles, bushes and hedgerows he ran a bedraggled thing.
Bone broken,
Heart broken,
Soul broken, his map a picture, perfect, reflection of a raven’s wing.
Her darling Prince she called him, yet she let him leave,
Laughing in her bone castle, when would she his heart retrieve.
He’d left that blessed castle, but his soul it bore a price.'
Shadowed.
Death touched.
No longer human, his soul had been sacrificed.
He’d escaped such blessed confinement, returning to his home,
Through thorny briers and shadowed ways, along those paths he roamed.
For the picture perfect reflection, for the laughter in her eye,
For hair of a ravens wing,
Dark hair of a ravens wing,
He came back to see that ravens wing, without whom he’d surely die.
That dark cruel queen had tricked him, into tarrying too long,
With promises a plenty, enchanting with her song.
Away from her dark castle some sixty years had gone.
Dead was his one true love,
Buried was his one true love,
Dead was his one true love. He was now truly all alone.
In grief he sort companionship with rich young ladies bored,
But such shallow lives, they could not hold him so enthralled.
His grief it turned to anger and his anger into hate.
He would have his vengeance.
Upon the shadows vengeance.
He would have his vengeance upon the cold hearted queen of fate.
Yet in some quiet moments he sees her, her hair a raven’s wing,
In picture perfect reflection, her eyes are depthless things.
With promises a plenty and laughing with her smile,
He summons her spirit to him,
He cries her spirit to him,
She spends one more night with him and he is happy for a while.
Character Information
Alias(es):Winterscale
Real Name: Unknown, it is likely he himself doesn't know
Age: Appears to be Late 20's, Actual age is unknown.
Concept: Prince of Death and Shadows
Entitlement: None, though save for his mantle some would swear he was a Duke of The Icebound Heart
Physical description: Six feet in height and intimidating with it, He seems larger than he perhaps is. Dressed in smart red and black uniform and always carrying a cane that has been see to be a rapier with a blade of shadows.
Relevant Mechanics: Striking looks 4, Gentrified bearing.
Known History
Current Activities: Currently resident of but not sworn to the Freehold of the Last Night
Motley
He is not sworn to any Motley.
Allies
Nominally the entirety of the Freehold of the Last Night
Enemies
Impolite people
Soundtrack
9 Crimes - Damien Rice
Mad world - Gary Jules with Michael Andrews
Where the Wild Roses Grow - Nick Cage featuring Kylie Minogue
Quotes
Not ever Durance is pain./Not every Durance is Sorrow./Not every Durance is Hurt.
Harder for a soul/to escape sweet pleasure/Than pain and torture.
Each child craves a mother,/Every Son a Brother,/Every Sister a Twin.
That is Fear,/that is pain,/Never to return.
- Winterscale
Rumors
Discourtesy causes him physical harm, which is why he is so vehement about politeness.
The flower he carries is the source of all of his power.
Members of other courts in York have oft been set on: "Anatar Watch".
