timesimmer

[timesimmer]

Well we made it through the Great Famine and lost some sims along the way. Here is a list of those who perished between the years of 1315 to 1317. I have more deaths with small households but I am not going to list them here because they aren't in any of my central storylines.

Honestly, I think I was pretty lucky with my rolls, plus I did have my sims beg to save whoever was dying each time and it seemed to work half of the time.

Goodbye To:

Gregory Smith (1278 - 1315)

Earl Nolan Gilbert (1289 - 1315)

Countess Eda Gilbert (1296 - 1315)

Prince Henri Clarillot (1314 - 1316)

Prince Adrian Almanzor (1281 - 1316)

Edward Blackburne II (1309 - 1317)

[timesimmer]

1317 Royal Updates

Here are the birthdays, marriages, and deaths of the royal side households in the year 1317. This list will not include anyone from my main household or any of the Blackburne siblings, and their families (Smith, Hicrest, and Blackburne).

House Stagfield

Birthdays:

Prince Philip - Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

King Philip - Age: 31 years old / Lifestage: Adult

House Clarillot

Birthdays:

Prince Louis - Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

King Geoffroi - Age: 13 years old / Lifestage: Teen

House Brabant

Birthdays:

Lady Margaret - Age: 13 years old / Lifestage: Teen

Lady Eleanor- Age: 3 months old / Lifestage: Infant

House Almanzor

Birthdays:

Princess Constance - 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

[timesimmer]

1317 update for the Blackburne clan and the three side households (Smith, Hicrest, and Blackburne). Due to some crazy shenanigans with mc command center we have generation 3 a lot sooner than I thought we would. So I am going to start labeling all of the sims by generation as well to help keep track of all the sims.

Birthdays:

Angus Hicrest - Gen 2 / Age: 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

Eloise Hicrest - Gen 2 / Age: 13 years old / Lifestage: Teen

Philippa Blackburne - Gen 2 / Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

John Atwood - Gen 3 / Age: 3 months / Lifestage: Infant

Katharine Blackburne - Gen 3 / Age: 3 months / Lifestage: Infant

Isaac Blackburne - Gen 3 / Age: 3 months / Lifestage: Infant

Deaths:

William Atwood - Gen 3 / Age: Newborn / COD: Stillborn

Edward Blackburne - Gen 2 / Age: 8 years old / COD: Famine

Marriages:

Marriage between Alexander Blackburne & Lilyana Atwood

Marriage between Thomas Blackburne & Una Sloane

[timesimmer]

The first signs of hope began to emerge as the year drew to a close. Lilyana, venturing into the town market, was met with a surprising sight: a variety of fresh produce, a stark contrast to the meager offerings of the past few years. A glimmer of hope ignited within her, a flicker of hope that perhaps the worst of the famine had passed.

Back at the farm, Selena and Lilyana spent the evening preparing a simple meal, a tradition that had brought them comfort during the darkest days. As they worked side by side, their laughter filled the kitchen, a sound that had been absent for too long.

Later that night, as the family gathered around the table, a sense of peace settled over them. They shared stories, their voices filled with a newfound optimism. Selena noticed Alexander and Lilyana had their heads bent together murmuring back and forth to each other.

"What are you and Alexander whispering about?" she teased, her voice playful.

Lilyana blushed, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Well, it's still early days, but I think I might be... expecting," she confessed.

Selena's eyes widened in surprise, then filled with joy. "Oh, Lilyana!" she exclaimed, pulling her daughter-in-law into a warm embrace. "That's wonderful news!"

Alexander, his eyes sparkling with happiness, beamed at his wife. The thought of becoming a father filled him with a sense of hope and excitement.

As the night wore on, the family talked about the future, their hearts filled with optimism. They dreamed of a time when the famine would be a distant memory, a time of plenty and prosperity. And as they looked to the stars, they knew that brighter days were on the horizon.

[timesimmer]

The vibrant market of Viborg was a stark contrast to the quiet villages of Valois. The air was filled with merchants' clamor, street vendors' cries, and shoppers' excited chatter. Alaric, Gregory, and Philippa had settled into their new life in Danoria, but a sense of longing still lingered in their hearts.

As Alaric wandered through the market, he couldn't help but admire the unique blend of cultures that made Viborg so special. The city was a melting pot of different peoples, each with their own customs and traditions. As he was leaving a stall, he accidentally bumped into a man.

"Apologies," Alaric said, bowing his head.

The man smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "No harm done," he replied. "I'm Gunnar Ravn."

Alaric returned the smile. "Alaric Blackburne."

A woman, with piercing blue eyes and a stern expression, joined Gunnar's side. She gave Alaric a distrustful look.

"This is my wife, Brynhild," Gunnar introduced.

Before Brynhild could say anything, a young woman emerged from a nearby stall. She had long, flowing blonde hair and a radiant smile.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, her voice soft and melodious. "Father, Mother."

She turned to Alaric and extended her hand. "I'm Iona," she said.

Alaric took her hand, his heart pounding. There was something about her, a familiar spark, a sense of hope. As he looked into her eyes, he felt a warmth he hadn't felt in years. It was the same feeling he had experienced when he first met Nadya.

As Gunnar and Alaric continued to talk, Alaric couldn't help but steal glances at Iona. She was intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Perhaps, he thought, there was still hope for happiness.

[timesimmer]

The forest, once a place of solace and beauty, now echoed with the tension of their desperate escape. The leaves, a vibrant tapestry of autumn hues, rustled ominously as the wind picked up, mirroring the turmoil in their hearts.

Genevieve, her once regal demeanor now marked by fear, clung to Nehemiah's arm. "Nehemiah," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "I fear for our safety. Philip will stop at nothing to reclaim me."

Nehemiah, his heart heavy with worry, gently cupped her face. "Fear not, my love," he reassured her, his voice steady. "I will protect you. Always."

A flicker of hope ignited in Genevieve's eyes as she smiled weakly. She pulled away, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. Nehemiah, lost in the comforting warmth of her touch, didn't notice the approaching footsteps until a voice shattered the tranquility of the forest.

"Nehemiah!"

He whirled around, his heart pounding. Sir Tristian, a once-trusted friend, stood before him, accompanied by another guard. A grim smile played on Tristian's lips. "Come with me, Nehemiah," he offered, his voice laced with a sinister undertone. "No one will get hurt."

Nehemiah's blood ran cold. "You think I would surrender so easily?" he challenged.

Tristian chuckled. "No, that's why I came prepared."

As if on cue, the other guard stepped forward, a sword pressed against Genevieve's throat. A wave of terror washed over Nehemiah as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"Let her go!" he roared, his voice filled with rage.

"Don't worry, our King wants her alive," Tristian replied nonchalantly. "But you, Nehemiah...well, that's a different story."

A fierce battle ensued, the clash of swords echoing through the trees. Nehemiah fought with a desperation born of love and fear, his every move fueled by the desire to protect Genevieve. With a swift, decisive strike, he disarmed Tristian, leaving him wounded on the forest floor.

Turning his attention to the guard holding Genevieve captive, Nehemiah lunged forward, rescuing his beloved from the brink of danger. With a swift, merciless blow, he ended the guard's life.

Panting heavily, Nehemiah turned to Genevieve, his eyes filled with relief and love. "We must hurry," he urged, his voice barely a whisper. "Philip will send more men."

Together, they fled into the depths of the forest, their hearts pounding in unison, their future uncertain, but their love unwavering.

[timesimmer]

The church bells chimed, their melody filling the air with a sense of hope and renewal. Thomas stood at the altar, his heart a whirlwind of emotions. He had made a decision, a life-altering choice. He was about to marry Una, a woman he had barely known.

A part of him couldn't help but think of Antonia, her ethereal beauty and her gentle spirit. He wondered what life would have been like had he pursued her, had he dared to dream of a future together. But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly overshadowed by his commitment to Una and their children.

As Una walked down the aisle, her face radiant with love and hope, Thomas's heart swelled with pride. She looked beautiful, her eyes sparkling with a newfound joy. The priest began the ceremony, his words a blur as Thomas focused on Una.

When the time came to exchange vows, Thomas spoke from the heart, promising to love and cherish Una and their children. As they sealed their vows with a kiss, a spark ignited between them, a connection that transcended their humble beginnings.

Later that day, Thomas and Una returned to their modest home. The nursery, filled with the soft glow of lamplight, was a picture of tranquility. Their two children, Katharine and Isaac, slept peacefully in their cradles.

As Una tucked the children into bed, Thomas pulled her aside. "I won't be going back to the barracks tonight," he said, his voice low.

Una's eyes widened in surprise. "But your duties..."

"I'll make time," he assured her. "For now, I just want to be with you and the children."

He pulled her into his arms, his lips touching hers passionately. As they deepened the kiss, Thomas felt a sense of belonging, a sense of home.

[timesimmer]

The night was dark and cold, a stark contrast to the warm, inviting glow emanating from the House of Blossoms. Thomas Blackburne stood outside the infamous establishment, a mixture of dread and determination etched on his face.

He had returned to the brothel, haunted by the weight of his past indiscretions. Madam Blossom, the cunning proprietor, emerged from the shadows, her eyes glinting with a knowing smile.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice laced with malice. "It seems our young knight has returned."

Thomas, his face flushed with anger, tossed a bag of coins at her feet. "That should cover my brother's debt," he growled. "And don't you dare contact him about this."

Madam Blossom's smile faded, replaced by a look of surprise. "And what about your debt?" she asked, her tone turning menacing.

Thomas hesitated, his mind racing. "It depends on Una," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "If she wants to leave with me, I'll take care of her and the child."

Madam Blossom's smirked. "Children" she said, as she stared into Thomas's look of disbelief.

"What?" Thomas whispered

Madam Blossom nodded. "Yes, children. Twins."

He entered the tavern, his heart heavy with dread and anticipation. He found Una in a brightly lit room, her expression a mix of shame and resignation.

"Thomas," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to take you home," he replied, his voice firm. "And to take care of our children."

Una's eyes widened in disbelief. "But your reputation, your future..." she stammered.

Thomas pushed passed the lump in his throat as she said the word future. He had imagined a different future for himself and had half hoped that Antonia would be a part of it, but that was long passed now. It had to take care of his responsibility.

Thomas took her hand, his touch gentle but resolute. "I don't care about any of that," he said. "All I care about is you and our children."

Una, moved by his sincerity, agreed to leave with him. As they walked out of the brothel, hand in hand, Thomas felt a sense of hope and purpose. He tossed another bag of coins, this time heavy paying off Una's debts along with his own in front of Madam Blossom. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but he was determined to build a new life for himself and his family.

[timesimmer]

Alaric sat at the table, his face etched with worry. He had been pondering this decision for weeks. It was time to make a change, a drastic one. He looked at Gregory and Philippa, his remaining children.

"Children," he began, his voice heavy, "it's time we leave."

Confusion flickered in their eyes. "Leave?" Philippa asked, her voice small. "But what about Mother? She might come back."

Alaric sighed. "It's because of your mother that we must go," he explained. "She dabbled in dark magic, a forbidden art. If she or your siblings returns, they could endanger us all."

Gregory's eyes widened. "Why would she do that?" he asked.

"She was desperate," Alaric replied. "She wanted to protect you all, but her methods were dangerous."

Alaric knew he had to make a fresh start, a new beginning for himself and his children. He had to leave behind the memories of Nadya, the pain, and the fear.

The next day, Alaric visited his brother-in-law, Stefan. "I'm leaving," he announced. "I'm taking the children and starting a new life."

Stefan was shocked. "But why? Nadya wouldn't dare come back here. She knows the consequences."

Alaric shook his head. "I can't risk it," he said. "This place is filled with too many memories. It's time to move on."

With heavy hearts, Alaric and his children said goodbye to Stefan and his family. They boarded a carriage and embarked on their journey. Weeks later, they arrived at a bustling port city. A large ship, ready to sail to a distant land, awaited them.

"What will it be like there, Father?" Philippa asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Alaric smiled. "I don't know," he admitted. "But as long as we're together, we'll be alright."

[timesimmer]

TW: Death, Stillborn

The room was filled with the tension of childbirth. Elizabeth, her brow furrowed with pain, gripped the bedsheets, her knuckles white. Ornelle, skilled midwife and devoted mother, coached her daughter through each contraction. Hours seemed to pass, each one more agonizing than the last.

"It's time to push, Elizabeth," Ornelle urged, her voice firm.

Elizabeth shook her head, her strength waning. "I can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You can, and you must," Ornelle insisted. "As a mother, you have the strength to endure anything."

With a renewed determination, Elizabeth pushed, her body straining with effort. A piercing cry filled the room, and Ornelle beamed with pride. She gently placed the newborn in Elizabeth's arms. A wave of love washed over Elizabeth as she gazed at her son, a feeling so profound that it surprised even her.

But before she could fully savor the moment, another wave of pain swept over her. "Another one?" she gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Ornelle nodded, her expression grave. "Yes, my dear, it seems you're having twins."

Elizabeth braced herself, pushing with all her might. As the baby emerged, a silence fell over the room. Ornelle's face was etched with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," she murmured. The newborn, tiny and frail, had not survived.

Elizabeth, her heart heavy with grief, cradled her surviving son. She asked to hold the stillborn infant, a final act of love and farewell. As she gazed upon the tiny, lifeless form, a tear rolled down her cheek. She kissed the baby's forehead, a silent goodbye.

Kingsley entered the room, his face a mask of concern. Ornelle gently explained the tragic news. Kingsley, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, focused on the living child, his newborn son. He picked up the baby, his heart filled with love and hope.

Elizabeth, though grateful for her surviving son, was consumed by grief. She named the stillborn infant William, a bittersweet tribute to a life cut short. As she held her living son, John, a name picked by Kingsley, she couldn't shake the sorrow that lingered in her heart. The joy of motherhood was tempered by the pain of loss.

[timesimmer]

One morning, as Selena went to tend to her youngest, a horrifying sight met her eyes. Edward, her beloved son, lay motionless on the ground, his small body ravaged by hunger and disease. A cry tore from her throat as she rushed to his side, her heart pounding with fear.

"No, no!" she cried, her voice filled with despair. "Please, don't take him."

Alexander and the other children rushed to the scene, their faces etched with horror. They stood helplessly by as their little brother slipped away, his life extinguished by the cruel hand of famine.

Just as the family was mourning their loss, another tragedy struck. Brenna, the youngest, collapsed, her frail body unable to withstand the relentless hunger. Selena, her heart heavy with grief, was frozen with shock. She could only watch as her daughter's life slipped away.

But then, a strange thing happened. Beatrice, her voice filled with a desperate plea, cried out to the heavens. "Don't take her!" she begged. A sudden gust of wind swept through the farm, and Brenna's eyes fluttered open. She was alive.

Relief washed over the family, a bittersweet victory in the face of such immense loss. They gathered around Brenna, their hearts filled with gratitude and sorrow.

The following day, Alexander dug a grave for his brother beside their father. As he lowered the small coffin into the ground, he felt a profound sense of loss. Edward, a bright and curious child, had been taken far too soon.

[timesimmer]

TW: Illness and Near Death of Toddler

Alaric stepped into the house, a sense of dread settling over him. He had been out searching for supplies, leaving Gregory to care for Philippa. The girl had been unwell for days, and the herbs he'd given her hadn't seemed to help. He felt useless without Nadya's knowledge, as he thought back to when she had vanished into the night, taking James and Ameera with her.

As he entered the house, he saw Philippa lying motionless on the floor. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow. Panic surged through him. He knelt beside her, his heart pounding. He had never been skilled in healing magic, and he didn't know what to do.

Gregory, sensing his father's distress, rushed into the room. "Father, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Alaric pointed to Philippa, his voice barely a whisper. "She's not breathing," he said.

Gregory knelt beside his sister, his eyes filled with determination. He closed his eyes and focused, drawing on a power he didn't fully understand. "Death," he commanded, his voice firm, "let go of her."

A surge of energy pulsed through Philippa's frail body. Her heart began to beat stronger, and her eyelids fluttered. She opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on Gregory.

"Gregory," she whispered, her voice weak. She looked over toward Alaric. "Father."

Alaric's relief was overwhelming. He pulled Philippa into his arms, tears of joy streaming down his face.

Later that day, when Philippa was feeling stronger, she approached Gregory. "Thank you," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "You saved my life."

Gregory smiled. "We're family," he replied. "We'll always be there for each other."

As they embraced, Alaric watched them, a sense of hope returning to his heart. Perhaps, despite the darkness that had fallen upon their family, there was still light to be found.

[timesimmer]

The kingdom of Valois, though still scarred by the ravages of the Great Famine, was on the brink of a new era. Prince Geoffroi, now thirteen years old, had spent the past two years training rigorously under the watchful eye of King Regent Charles. The young prince had matured beyond his years, absorbing knowledge and honing his leadership skills.

On his thirteenth birthday, Geoffroi strode into the throne room, his demeanor both youthful and resolute. King Regent Charles, his face etched with the weight of responsibility and the toll of the famine, looked up with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "You've grown, Geoffroi," he remarked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm ready, Charles," Geoffroi declared, his voice steady. "It's time to claim what is rightfully mine."

Charles hesitated, aware of the immense burden that would fall upon the young king's shoulders. "Are you certain, Geoffroi? The crown is a heavy weight to bear, especially in these troubled times."

Geoffroi nodded firmly. "The crown is mine by birthright. It's time to lead Valois out of the darkness and into a new age."

With a heavy heart, Charles acknowledged the young king's determination. He agreed to continue serving Valois, but as a counselor rather than a regent.

A simple coronation ceremony was held, a solemn affair marked by the weight of the kingdom's suffering. Geoffroi, now King Geoffroi I, was crowned, and the nobles swore their allegiance to their new ruler. The kingdom, though weary and weakened, placed its hopes in the young king. They prayed that he would be the beacon of hope they so desperately needed.

[timesimmer]

The tavern was a haven for weary travelers, a place where the stresses of the day could be washed away with a tankard of ale. Thomas, exhausted from a long day of training and duty, sought solace in the dimly lit room. As he nursed his drink, a woman approached his table, her smile both inviting and predatory.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice laced with a knowing glint. "If it isn't young Master Blackburne."

Thomas's heart sank. He recognized her immediately - Madam Blossom, the owner of the infamous House of Blossoms. A wave of dread washed over him as he recalled the night of debauchery that he had 9 months ago.

"I'm afraid I'm not interested tonight, Madam," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

But Madam Blossom was not deterred. "Oh, but I think you are," she replied, a sly grin spreading across her face. "I remember that night quite well. You and your brother, quite the pair of troublemakers."

Thomas's face turned red with embarrassment. He tried to protest, but the words caught in his throat.

"Two of my girls are pregnant due to you and your brother," she announced, her voice dripping with malice. "And I want you to take responsibility."

Thomas was stunned. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's impossible," he sputtered. "There is no way that you could know that it was my brother and I"

Madam Blossom shrugged. "Unfortunately for you, I know it was the two of you. Customers have been light due to the famine. The point is, you're the father, and you're going to pay."

She outlined her demands, a hefty sum of money or him and his brother taking responsibility for the children. Thomas was horrified. "My brother has just married and can't bring another woman's child into his home with a new wife," Thomas said trying to keep his voice low. "And I don't have enough money to meet your demands."

The Madam looked toward the door bored. "Then one of you pays and the other takes the child, I do not care. But you must decide by the end of the week."

Thomas glared at her. "How do I know you are not lying?"

The Madam met his gaze and waved her hand toward the door. "Please, look for yourself."

Thomas quickly went outside and found Una, the woman from that night. He looked down and saw her belly right away, but still couldn't believe it.

"Una," he began, his voice barely a whisper. "Is it true? Is that child mine?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Thomas," she said. "I begged the Madam not to involve you. Women in my line of work get pregnant all the time, but she is desperate for money. And if she can't get that she would rather not have another mouth to feed."

Thomas's heart ached for her, and for the child she carried. He felt her stomach and felt the child moving around. He whispered as a tear fell down his face. "What do I do?"

[timesimmer]

The Blackburne farm, though weathered by time and hardship, remained a haven of peace and resilience. The once vibrant fields, now barren and scarred, bore witness to the relentless grip of the Great Famine. Yet, even in the face of adversity, the Blackburne family persevered, their spirits unbroken.

One crisp morning, as Alexander was tending to the meager harvest, a knock sounded at the door. He opened it to find Lilyana standing on the doorstep, her face etched with a mixture of hope and despair. She looked smaller, her once vibrant spirit dimmed by the weight of hardship.

"Lilyana," he exclaimed, his heart filled with concern. "What brings you here?"

She hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. "The orphanage... it's struggling," she confessed. "They've decided to send the older children away, to find their own way."

Alexander's heart sank. "But where will you go?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

"I don't know," she replied, her eyes downcast. "I'll find a way."

"You can't stay on the streets," Alexander insisted. "You can stay here, with us."

Lilyana shook her head. "That wouldn't be right," she said. "We're not married."

"Then we should be," Alexander declared, his voice firm. "You're the love of my life, Lilyana. I can't imagine a future without you."

Lilyana was stunned. She had never expected him to move up their wedding, especially not under such circumstances. But as she looked into his eyes, she knew that he was sincere.

The following day, they were married in a simple ceremony. Selena, though saddened by the circumstances, was overjoyed to welcome Lilyana into the family. As they exchanged vows, their hearts filled with hope and love, a beacon in the darkness of the Great Famine.

[timesimmer]

1316 Royal Updates

Here are the birthdays, marriages, and deaths of the royal side households in the year 1316. This list will not include anyone from my main household or any of the Blackburne siblings, and their families (Smith, Hicrest, and Blackburne).

House Stagfield

Birthdays:

Arthur Fitzroy - Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

Princess Margery - Age: 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

Deaths: None!

Marriages / Betrothals: None

House Gilbert

Birthdays: None

Deaths:

Dowager Countess Synnove - Age: 51 / COD: Tuberculosis

Marriages / Betrothals: None

House Davenport

Birthdays:

Lady Catelyn - Age: 31 / Lifestage: Adult

Deaths: None!

Marriages / Betrothals: None

House Clarillot

Birthdays:

Deaths:

Prince Henri - Age: 2 years old / COD: Great Famine

Prince Robert - Age: 0 years old / COD: SIDS

Marriages / Betrothals:

House Brabant

Birthdays:

Lady Cateline - Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

Deaths: None!

Marriages / Betrothals:

House Dalriada

Birthdays:

Princess Mary - Age: 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

Princess Alisa - Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

Deaths: None!

Marriages / Betrothals:

House Almanzor

Birthdays:

Princess Constance - Age: 3 months old / Lifestage: Infant

Deaths:

Prince Adrian - Age: 27 years old / COD: Great Famine

Princess Elise - Age: 27 years old / COD: Pregnancy Complications

Marriages / Betrothals:

[timesimmer]

1316 update for the Blackburne clan and the three side households (Smith, Hicrest, and Blackburne).

Birthdays:

Angus Hicrest - Age: 3 months old / Life stage: Infant

Brenna Blackburne - 5 years old / Life stage: Child

Deaths: None!

Marriages:

Marriage between Elizabeth Smith & Kingsley Atwood