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Serana places a sticky note in regards to the spelling errors, pushing her glasses up her nose 🤓. "It's Haelun'or."

"...So he doesn't know." The once-Watcher mutters, admist a field under the night sky. It feels much further to him, now that he cannot wander beyond it. He reads over the letter that's made its way into his hands again, before he stows it away and simply stares, skyward, thinking. And then he laughs, like a lunatic to the stars. He wonders if the Grand King can hear him, wherever he is - tears rolling down his face between heaves of laughter as he rolls in the grass, wholly alone. Razad never lived to know if he was right, Haus wonders, but he finds odd solace in thought the old man though of him as trustworthy, loyal; a friend. How far he had come, from telling the man he would never bend his knee to him to going to such lengths to to slay the Apostate for him. Yet still - it is another he has outlived. Even severed from the primary source of agony in his life, the ache in his soul never seems to cease. He pours a glass out into the dirt when his laughter has ceases, as he stargazes - and he wonders if he will ever live to see himself returned home.

"Now Thes. Thes es dragon fire." Says a dwarf as he listens to the sick beats on his Istone Slab.

[!] A journal made of cream colored pages, bound in elk hide. A depiction of the sea’s rolling waves is painted on the cover, a title embedded in the leather and painted in silver ink. Most of the pages appeared to be ripped out, leaving behind only entries from a certain range of dates. The Sealog of Princess Vallei Runya-Arassë Norväyn Sylvaeri -=- =-= 19th of The Amber Cold, Year 179 of the Second Age — I can feel the waves calling for me once more, and as Kaito has set off on his own journey, now is a perfect time to partake on a voyage. I commissioned construction of a new ship, and she is finally finished. I have decided to name her Eärnur, which means Servant of the Sea in the ancient tongue; a fitting name I believe. I commissioned her specifically to be manned by one person, that I may go it alone whenever I choose. I have stocked up enough food and supplies for a month, and so now I set sail. 21st of The Amber Cold, Year 179 of the Second Age — Today is the third day I have been out at sea, heading south from the Watcher’s Roost. The waves have been quite turbulent, as I witnessed a storm brewing in the distance. Luckily, I was able to steer westward to avoid it, though I will need to be careful to remember my way back home. So far I have seen no land, and so I am glad that I packed as much food as I did. I shall sail for another week or two before turning back home, I think. 24th of The Amber Cold, Year 179 of the Second Age — Six days out at sea, and I have come across something troubling. I noticed that the water had started to become murky, and saw debris floating amongst the waves. I sailed towards the source to discover a shipwreck, a merchant’s vessel by the looks of it. The fragments of the ship suggest that it had been blasted apart, perhaps by pirates or a rival. Either way, the damage to the sealife is extensive. Dead fish bob on the surface, and I can only imagine what’s happening down below the dark water. I can’t leave it like this. It will likely take days, but I must clean this, especially if this black sludge is what I expect it to be. 6th of The Deep Cold, Year 179 of the Second Age — It is exactly as I fear - Oil. The vessel was carrying vast amounts of oil, which has all spilled out into the sea. It has killed so much, ruined the seafloor I imagine. I have spent day and night trying to clean it all, skimming layer after layer of oil from the water’s surface. I am fortunate that the waves have been calm, otherwise this would be impossible. I am starting to see some progress luckily; the water almost appears safe enough to dive within and check out the damage below. I have also collected all the dead fish that have risen to the surface, their bodies drenched in oil. I will have to bury them on the shore. 14th of The Deep Cold, Year 179 of the Second Age — I have done all that I can, cleaned up as much oil as possible. It will be enough, I think. While impossible to get it all, the sealife should have some hope of survival now. The water was safe enough to dive into a few days ago, so I went to check out the shipwreck. Indeed, cannon balls liter the seafloor, as well as the split hull. It should make a good home for the fish, but I was sure to gather any debris that could be mistaken for food or prove a danger to the wildlife. No more dead fish float to the surface now, and after a few weeks, all should return to relative normalcy. I am disgusting, covered in oil. I sail for home now, where a warm bath awaits me. 19th of The Deep Cold, Year 179 of the Second Age — I returned to the Watcher’s Roost a day earlier than expected, the wind luckily on my side. My vessel is in good condition, though the wood of the deck is stained from the oil. After a few days of recovery, I shall get to cleaning her up, and figure out a way to dispose of the oil. Perhaps it can still be used, in a way that doesn’t hurt any more of nature.

Random one-off rules for CRP don't make sense. Every ranged projectile from potions to arbalests to magical versions all exists in the same ecosystem of ranged weapons - if one gets changed, the rest of them need to be adjusted in turn. Equally, it doesn't make sense to point at plate armor imo and say let's make people in that go slower. What about Horses in plate armor, or CAs/Constructs that are heavier, or similar things that weigh more? To many of the earlier points, Honor CRP should have as few rules as possible. However - if you are going to start thinking of rules and considerations for things like weigh and armor class, I really do you it has to go all the way into a fully thought out roll-CRP system. A halfway thought out system that does some things (seriously - what are archers even rolling for? The person they're shooting at doesn't even have to roll against the archer and nothing else ranged has to roll) and neglects other things only leaves large problems to be exploited and areas for disagreement and confusion. TL:DR CRP Rules should either be very minimal and left to players to be mature adults who can problem-solve and communicate and so thorough and account for everything that all players have to do is /roll 20 with advantage/disadvantage or modifiers in a system that leaves 0 roof for arguing. In fairness, there's no reason why two systems can't exist, and players can just pick which they want before conflict starts.

War On All Sides: Hel-Bot Attack Chronicled by Yamashiro Tatsuo All was quiet on the frontlines; the burning infernal ruins of the flower capital were fully visible, lighting up the night. Its wicked infernal flame making any brave warrior uneasy and nervous. While the Grub Bucket continued to serve its signature dishes to the hungry warriors of the Shogunate, it felt just like any other day on the frontlines, yet something was afoot beyond no man's land; the infernal machinations of the yokai were hard at work. The warriors of Koyo-Kuni remained stoic, waiting for their enemy to attack. Gusts of wind blew against the colorful banners as the sound of hellish screams resonated from the village. Out of nowhere, large, olog-sized infernal corpses were flung into the camp, landing with explosive power. Bone fragments and organs were sent in every direction, striking many warriors and infecting those with a terrible sickness. Then, all of a sudden, the silence of no man's land was broken. CLANK CLANK CLANK, Gashadokuro's menacing force of metallic constructs emerged from the fog of no man's land. Numbering at least 20 strong, they glowed a sickly green hue with crudely made weapons within each hand. The battle was about to begin! Thundering explosions rocked the area as alchemical elixirs broke upon the incoming force, sending some into the traps laid below. As metal met bamboo, a few constructs bled out, deactivating from the fight. Meanwhile, Grub Bucket Grease was launched forth into the paths of the other constructs, proving to be another effective product. With no traction on the ground, three lost their balance and fell onto the deadly bamboo sticks below. Though the horde of metallic constructs moved on, their marching shaking the ground of the checkpoint before them. As they clambered onto the palisades, they were met with blades wrought of pure Oyashiman steel. Sparks flew around as weapons collided and warriors were struck down. The gravel below was painted with the red ichor of the machine men as they continued to be cut down without mercy. Towards the gatehouse, Shugo brought a force of brave warriors who charged toward the back of the mechanical constructs, slicing them apart like butter. The battle was over, and the ground was littered with scrap metal from the fallen constructs. Though this would surely not be the last battle at the checkpoint...

"May they retake their city soon." Sand offered, in peace of mind. He'd hoped his dear friends would be safe and well in the coming year.

Sofiele ponderes a singular question… ”He had more kids…?”

"Canonist forces will soon be initiating anti terrorist operations to bring down hokhmat and its silliness once and for all" brother ninnias nods "Not just going to kill the clown, kill the whole circus!"

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John, a white powder dusting his nose, squinted at the flier. "wuh . . . This stuff ist illegal!?"

*A voidal flame iluminates the haggered tome hidden away in a darker corners of the world. his eyes scanning over it a smile cracks on his face.* "A elders wisdom a teachers writing. I wonder were this believe will grow roots."

history repeats i put my prayers out to trapgodtrips amen.

Not one for taking all the credit Caspian had mentioned that serving Haense was its own reward, nonetheless an award had been placed in his lap, he was taken aback by it all and humbly accepted, though he was aware his brothers had aided in such, in fact the Royal Captain had decided to make something of a feast in honour of those whom had saved Yuri, at the tavern keeps expense! "I only live to serve" Is all he had replied to the Edict upon reading it. Ser Caspian would trudge off to continue his duties, with a slight smile brewing on his visage of such a gracious act, though one he knew he could not take full credit for, and had no intention of doing such.

The Haeseni HAUCHMETVAS is a symbolic celebration of a young woman's entrance into adulthood, stepping away from her years of childhood and officially making her mark within society. It is with joyous anticipation that the young lady, DUCHESS TATIYANA VAS RUTHERN has chosen to follow in the traditions of her ancestors of yore and host such a celebration for all Haeseni to attend. Familiar traditions of the Hauchmetvas will be observed by all in attendance, a ‘WREATH CEREMONY’ and ‘FIRST DANCE’, will be held amidst the merriment and the celebratory ‘BURNING OF AGE’ will be used to conclude the evening. Like many past celebrations, a theme has been selected, that being ‘LEDIZ AG BOGATYR’, calling upon the fabled story of Song of the Black and the ancient Raevir families. Guests of the Hauchmetvas are encouraged to familiarize themselves with the story and present themselves as any notable character from the tales. Come as brave a Lady Vlasta or the ruthless mercenary, Dragan Skullsplitter. Follow in the footsteps of the warrior Lady Mylah Nzechovich, or the Bogatyr Ratibor Skysent in all his skilled glory. Ladies of the evening may even find themselves dancing with a distinguished Karovic Prince, though whether it be Barbov or Kosav is up for them to interpret themselves. Throughout the duration of the celebration, decorative masks will be worn by guests in attendance and by the end of the evening will be removed, shedding away the character worn to reveal the Ledi or Bogatyr beneath the trickster disguise. Within the fabled celebrations, food and drink will be served as guests will be given an array of options of traditional Ruskan cuisine and drink. Music and dancing will be ongoing throughout the evening and for those who choose to wander throughout the imposing CASTLE MORTESKVAN, games will be held with individual prizes for those participating. The Ducal family of Ruthern invites all Haeseni and the Kingdom's allies within the walls of Morteskvan. Traditional rules of courtship regulations and courtly etiquette will be strictly imposed upon during the evening to ensure the merriment of the Hauchmetvas remains a joyous occasion. His Royal Majesty, KING IVAN VIII of HAENSE, and his royal pedigree @indiana105 His Grace, DUKE GAREN BARUCH of VALWYCK, and his noble pedigree @ferdaboy The Most Honorable, MARGRAVE HENRIK-OTTO LUDOVAR of KVASZ, and his noble pedigree @HogoBojo The Right Honorable, COUNT MIKHAIL COLBORN of MALKOVYA, and his noble pedigree @Kaladin Stormblessed The Honorable, VISCOUNT HENRIK AMADOR of ZVEZLUND, and his noble pedigree @critter The Honorable, VISCOUNTESS OFELIYA WEISS of NOVKURSAIN, and her noble pedigree @tadabug2000 Her Ladyship, BARONESS IRENA KORTREVICH of KORAVIA, and her noble pedigree @crazedpudding Her Ladyship, BARONESS ROSALIND VALKONEN of SZARGRAD, and her noble pedigree @CyyanTea His Lordship, BARON FYODOR KOVACHEV of KOVGRAD, and his noble pedigree @Radzig Her Ladyship, BARONESS GALINA GODUNOV of VERSKAYA, and her noble pedigree @esotericas His Lordship, Lorcan O’Rourke @Scourge Her Ladyship, Rezalisa Kovachev @UnBaed Lords, Karl & Seigmund Weiss @caschaos @SethWolf Her Ladyship, Emma Amador @sarahbarah Ser Caspian Colborn @Sandman_Plays His Lordship, Davyd Colborn @JuliusAakerlund Lord and Lady, Petyr & Maira Baruch @louislxix @Trinn Her Ladyship, Juliya Barclay @annabanana1014 Mister, Asif Thorson @TheBreak

Spuds read on. The moment he finished reading he ran out of his house and got on his faithful mastiff mount that quickly set off towards Norland nothing would stop his from candy and trinkets by his favorite sugar provider “ONWARDS BROWNIE! WE HAVE TO GET THERE BEFORE SHE RUNS OUT OF PIE AGAIN! MUSH MUSH!”

Issued Year 176 of the Second Age. Good people of Lurin! I, Domonic Snowell-Uialben am pleased to announce. That my charity has not been wasted! I have constructed a cave for all you alchemically enabled! With its opening we host a lab for basic alchemy, with more facilities to come! So apply for your permits, This lab is protected, and repaired. By yours truly. Signed Domonic Mik'ael Snowell-Uialben Prince of Lurin

A Beekeeper's Penitence A Summed-up Tale of a Revenant's Backstory In the "Year of the Sun" Eighteen Eighty-Four, an Olgerian Peasent was born into a decently wealthy family of Beekeepers and he was a giant. Parents Julia and Alexander Tegira welcome their third son, Damien, into the world. Both of Damien's Brothers, Mattias and Richter, are pleased to learn that their brother is a healthy young man. Little are they aware, their mother has just birthed a demon. Damien had a stunted mental growth when growing up, opting out of participating with his brothers in lessons and sermons at their local church, even at the behest of his parents. Damien was too interested in the family business, cultivating Bees, but that's not what he did all the time. Damien was also interested in magics and daemons, recreating figures described in books out of clay and scrap. The child also had issues with getting along with his brothers and normally fought regularly but it's mostly his brothers who are picking on him. It was Damien's birthday, his thirteenth if you will, and his family is preparing a feast with his friends and family but Damien is reluctant. Damien hasn't worked out his differences or his slurring with his family so he has been silent this entire time but responds in head nods and shakes. Damien wishes not to partake, due to his awkwardness and his scared feelings but instead work with the bees. After a bit of bickering from his brothers to his parents, Julia and Alexander agree to let Damien sit out his birthday but he doesn't get to eat their desserts they get. The boy was upset about this and began to throw and smash things around the house until his brothers tackled him to the ground. It ended up in a fight to where Damien, now armed with a large book, smashes one of the brothers over the head with it. Due to Damien's superior strength, it completely unwinded his brother, Mattias. Mattias was out cold and his parents were in shock as the boy's dad went to restrain Damien. Damien was dragged to the cellar to where he was kept for several weeks until his brother, Mattias, finally awoke. Though, Damien was immediately put back in at the behest of his brothers. The young Beekeeper was kept in the cellar for several months but managed to escape after a breaching of the cellar doors that led outside. Damien had went missing for several weeks after such and his parents were worried about him but his brothers were the opposite. Guards of the Royal Crown of Kozimor, a Sovereign state of Olgeria, began to search for the massive teenager at the request of his parents. Damien was hunted and continued to be for three years to no avail. One night, during a dark winter night, a loud crashing of wood and glass was heard. The Parents awoke to find their two sons missing and immediately fled the house to scrounge the guards. During the Morn, the parents were conspicuous about a local hound sniffing around their Bee columns. After approaching the dens, that were left untouched during the winter, the bodies of Mattias and Richter were found half-sunken into the ground with mud covering their bodies. The parents were left stunned and became hermits after losing their three sons in less than three years. Several other bodies were found stashed in their bee columns as well, but were mostly dead pests. The bodies of the boys and the pests were found similar, having large indents on their heads from blunt force trauma. A series of killings would take place in the lands of Kozimor, the bodies continuously found in the Bee gardens next to the Tegira residence. After a while of concluding evidence and pushing from Nobles, Princess Catherine Aarhaus III commanded for the arrest of Parents Julia and Alexander Tegira and ordered their executions. During the Spring of 1899, Julia and Alexander Tegira were hung in the square of Kozimor. After which, the killings have seemed to cease. In the Ports on the border of Olgeria, a murderous whoreson Apis Custos, is setting sail with dozens of beehives towards the lands of Aevos. Apis Custos would arrive fourty days later in Aevos, on 1901. A year and a quarter after his parent's execution.

Ayche sits by a river somewhere, fishing rod in hand. His warhammer's propped up against his camping supplies nearby. He's lived a fairly peaceful existence in the years since the end of the war and his retirement. His visit to Hohkmat the previous day was the first visit in many years. He's still deciding how he feels about it, truth be told. He'd known, at some level, that Hohkmat's system of conflict was unsustainable. You can't build a government based on infighting and dueling for positions and plotting - you just can't. Not one that lasts, anyway. The Age of Knowledge will bring stability. Stability will make Hohkmat a better place to live. But it might make things less interesting, too. In the centuries before Hohkmat, Ayche avoided any sort of involvement in government. He's never been the sort of mage who was content to sit in a tower, a library, a laboratory. There's one kind of life that appeals to him, and he realized he'd be able to find it in Hohkmat the first time he fought Lanre to a standstill in the dueling arena, all those years ago. Well, he's a wanderer now, and the war is over. Hohkmat isn't home for him anymore. Maybe it hasn't been since the war ended. It's home to plenty of others, though, and those people are in good hands with Faeryel. That will have to be enough. There's a tug on the line, a splash in the water. Ayche sets his thoughts aside. Dinner first. And then, maybe, he'll go find some trouble.

"Damn the darkspawn." An elfess would utter within the confines of her sisters laboratory, sharpening the blade of her war-axe. What blood will her weapon spill, the world may know soon enough. The heroic story of her aunt still fresh in the elfesses' mind. "Damn the dragonkin. Damn Azdromoth. Where's a spear when you need one?"