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The Gravelord lofted his skeletal palm upwards, adorned upon it, a ring of cracked Menhir stone. The Lich thought of that struggle, that fight in which they had subdued that which would sunder for the Sixth. "So Mote it Be. Rest Child of the Damned, so shall your suffering, save the lost."

[!] A poster has been distributed throughout Portoregne Brains & Brawn The Senate Campaign Poster of Hilda Brawn About the Candidate Hilda Adrianna Brawn is an immigrant to the lands of Balian, purchasing a property in the city at the age of sixteen, moving from her familial home in Reinmar; she always had a deep interest in the kingdom, joining the ranks of the Regiment at only ten years of age, and has been a squire of Ser Tristan de Lyons since she was fifteen. Since that time, she has gained many achievements, recently completing all of her required squire trials, and being promoted to the rank of Man-At-Arms within the regiment because of her seniority. She has also represented the House of Novellen-Tuvia in peerage meetings, because of her mind for politics and trust instilled in her by HRH Ariadne Casimira. One may argue that Hilda Brawn may be too young for such a position, yet, she is of the same age group as many of the candidates looking to take the position and has been involved in kingdom life and politics from a very young age, even putting her life on the line time and time again to defend the kingdom against threats both big and small. Unlike many of the candidates, Hilda Brawn comes from a common family, having no familial links to any nobility in Balian or her home kingdom of Reinmar, meaning she can truly represent the common people of the kingdom, having shared the same struggles as the common man, and understanding what it is like to be of common blood within the city of Portoregne. How many of the other candidates can say the same? Manifesto What Hilda Promises: Bring forth the opinion of the citizens of Portoregne, no matter how insignificant they may seem. Hilda will run weekly meetings where the citizens of the city can present their questions and concerns that they believe should be addressed by the Duana, and therefore, the Monarch. Hilda will then discuss what should be brought up and take it before the Duana. No matter the opinion, you will be able to share it freely with no judgment. Bring up the question of events for the city. More should be done to bring the city back to life. The city has become somewhat of a ghost town of late. More should be done to fill the streets with life once more, as such, Hilda will push for more events to be hosted in the city on a weekly basis, with civilians also being encouraged to host events themselves. Do the people of Balian feel safe? Should more be done to protect the citizens? The current crime rate in the city of Portoregne is quite frankly worrying, with witch threats and darkspawn, and the looming threat of The Watchman and their goons, more should be done by the Regiment and Magisterium to make the citizens feel safe. Not only that, the royalty should also be more protected, with the threats of The Watchman being aimed at the royal descendants primarily. Hilda will push to change this fact. Are there too many noble Houses in Balian? Should more be promoted? Or are there too many? What are your opinions on the amount of noble families in the kingdom? Do you feel there are too many, and the streets are mostly filled with those of noble blood? Or do you believe your family should be nobility themselves? Hilda would like to know and perhaps make changes that reflect public opinion. How represented does the common man feel? Can Hilda Brawn make you feel more seen? Most of Hilda’s fellow candidates are of nobility, does this truly represent the commoners of Balian? Do we truly need more nobility in the government? By voting for Hilda, you can dilute the nobility in government, and add more varied opinions. Vote for Hilda Adrianna Brawn for Balian Senate! Signed, Hilda Adrianna Brawn, Squire of the Order of Saint Michael

@SimplySeoActually gotta hit them with the flying backflipping pommel throw of course.

A Barrowlord chortled from afar. It is not a pleasant sound, cold and demeaning. "Our princess is not the brightest soul in the stream.."

When Leufroy Otto received word of the passing of his sisters, he immediately fell ill as he was overcome with strong emotions of grief and worry. He was unsure of how his life would pan out now that he had been named as the new Count of Revedin. Deep down inside himself Leuie felt as though he was not prepared nearly as well enough as his eldest sister, but he still knew that he could not let his parents down during this difficult time. After some time of deep thought and reflection, Leufroy then finally let out a shaky sigh as he tried to pull himself together for the sake of his family. At that, he went to continue his day, though he barely offered any words to anyone who might have come across him.

A dusty old hat, lies lax under some forgotten crypt with naught to do but ponder. Arcane sentience bestowed by a long passed Master, did allow it to regale a centuries old proverb. ”Magi build their towers of Knowledge so high, that they forget their foundations are based in mud. . .”

Hello Y'all! most of you have probably not met me, but you may know me through King Patches, As I Play Queen Honey of Babblebrook, Patches' Wife. I might be new to Musin as a whole but, and I've barely been on LOTC for a year, but Of all the characters i've had the pleasure of playing, none of them have quite had the charm that Honey does, The little community, both figuratively and literally, are always the sweetest of people, and the most receptive to newer members, The environment around Musin is so sweet and kind, and I can say with confidence that the VIP i bought to make this character happen (needed another character slot) was 100% worth the effort. Huge shout out to Zanael for bringing me in and hard carrying this little community as far as it has been. Every one of the musin I've meet are amazing people to interact with and the only thing i wish for is to meet those musin that i've never met, due to poor timing or them never logging on, I'd Love to see some new faces as well, which is why i've made the effort to speak my mind here I'll admit to not being here long enough to form an opinion as to what to change, but i highly agree with most of the points that Zanael brings up, the constant praise of our cuteness never ending cannot be beat. The false promises of musin players are also an issue I have witnessed as well, as sad as it is. Where many say they will play one, only never to log into them once made... And the constant out of character bias towards considering us all thieves has not been enjoyable... My hope one day is that Musin can be as common place as any of the other classic races, Although That is a dream we'll likely never see, its a dream worth dreaming. I will continue to play and advocate for Musin so long as I am allowed to be as adorable as possible. I hope this little Love paragraph really goes to show how much fun musin can be, Thank you for taking the time out of your day for reading this, and regardless if you're a musin or not, I can't wait to see you all around from all the way down here!

Somewhere, a bard prepares to perform this song.

Guys you can’t be enabling my pastel pink addiction like this… (please.. i’m on my knees begging… i want it)

Henry Arthur Haverlock, the Duke of Blackworth and a vassal of Ravenmire, pens a letter to Edward Butterfield. @CharmingCavalier "Good Sir, I hope this letter finds you in good health. As a member of the Ravenmirian Government, I wish to inform you of some discrepancies that we have taken note of regarding the map. Do note that I have a deep respect for your line of work, and this letter serves merely to inform of minor errors." "First; Ravenmire's capital, Ravenmire City, is further to the north and sits exactly along the coastline - If you were to visit it in person, you shall see that it sits beneath the cliff and uses artificial supports to extend out and slightly into the Northern Sea." "Second; Ravenmire's borders. Ravenmire as of late has seen gradual territorial expansion - My own fief, the Duchy of Blackworth, sits right along the northern border of Norland, and so it would be appropriate to display the borders of Ravenmire to encompass the majority of the peninsula which we sit upon. Allow me to send you the borders which our Kingdom currently holds." On the back of the letter is attached a sketch of the Kingdom of Ravenmire's borders, including the two vassal fiefdoms of the Rhosmark and Blackworth.

"At least the menu is staying the same." Says. . . . .someone. Random One-Time Patron of the Grub Hut #72892, most likely.

wub da skah

Χριστός ανέστη, αληθώς ο Κύριος. Happy Easter bro

Ar-Malna gave a happy little clap. "I helped proof-read that!!"

"Huzzah! Pride Club!" proclaimed one John Galbraith, gleefully clapping his hands. He re-read it a second time, now with a frown on his face. "Oh. Pride's Cub. Eugh. Lame."

Name: Wernher Vourkehardt Age: 28 Residence: Glazier Avenue 1 Did you fill out the Census?: Yes (IGN: ickyNuN) (Discord: thickynunu)

Gallio Grandaxe went to see the new city that had been built, as he nodded with a smile at the sight of the beautiful scenery. He quite liked the nature, though still despised the different bugs crawling around.

CONTEMPLATIONS IN HOARFROST Anxious toes stood on the precipice of rimestruck lake, teetering on the edge of the waters. Already, an errant elf could feel the chilling burn on the soles of his feet. To the side his belongings were laid- a hat and a simple bag, his linen shirt folded neat and dry inside. With boots clipped under-arm, the errant man waded into the water with a hitched gasp as frost ran up his spine. The water welcomed the elf with all the grace of innumerable frozen pins boring into the bark of his bones, each stroke a step deeper into torture. The chill was a weight on his chest, chilling his lungs and stoppering his his ragged breath. His goal stood in the center of the frozen lake, a dry bar where he was to sit. After his labor through the bitter, biting water, panicked fingers grasped for frozen earth, clawing to remove himself from the agonizing drink. All the while, the question he was bade to consider rang in his mind. He was to wait to ruminate until he’d reached his perch at the water’s center, but the elf was taken by a wandering mind. He had given thought to the Um’ei his entire journey, during each stroke across the water. He had mulled over countless answers to the given question; By the teachings of Eresar, why are we? “To endure?” he thought, introspective of himself, huddled and freezing on an islet. But endurance is part of the journey; Asioth was a destination. The man knew one thing for certain; He knew nothing at all. Not what he was, not what he would become. Often, he saw himself as ‘journey’ incarnate, always moving but never coming to settle. The thought clawed at him nearly as much as the biting air at his wet skin. How terrible, it would be, if his tale ended here, if he could do no good by anyone, if he could not be the warrior-erudite he once envisioned himself as. ‘To suffer,’ murmured he, clutching his freezing and soaked form tightly. A bitter laugh fell from his lips as he attempted to make warmth of what breath remained in his lungs. But suffering didn’t feel like Asioth, or what he had read of it. If suffering was Asioth, he had attained it, as the tundric air made his eyelids hang low, each blink longer than the last. Barely could he bid flingers to flick, or arms to lift, only the energy to ponder remained in him. ‘My form will be rendered a block of ice, and I will shatter,’ he thought. The tundra would take him, and he would perish with no amount of pride in his accomplishments. Would he die a novice in all of his pursuits? Would he be broken, and never rebirthed? A chill ran through the elf. Not of ice, but knowledge. His jaw went shifted and went taut at the notion he remembered, glanced betwixt vellum pages; Strange liturgy that seemed to be an auld sage’s nonsensical ramblings. Their mere thought seemed enough to bid his extremities to move, and feet to support him as he stood. The elf leapt back into the murky water with abandon, a pair of boots left lingering on the floating islet, becoming a figment in the distance as his pain wracked body fjorded the water, and pulled itself agonizingly to the snowy shore. He began a limp across a frozen plain, headed towards sweltering stone. His answer would not be spoken to the air, unless first-heard by a waiting master.

"Wonderful. I feel - so important now." Muses Arakawa, newly appointed Vizier of Earth. "I should make up some badges." He then goes back to the renovation of his home, humming happily. "Oh. And a sufficiently long signature."

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THE SEEKER’S QUERY An Errant, faith-seeking Elf walked up to a group of High Elves in the Principality of CELIA’NOR and asked, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW’ They ignored my query as they nailed an Ibleesian’s head to a spike. The elf traveled into the White City of NUMENOST, where he met the Adunian Queen and a Knight. He interrupted their conversation regarding the slaughter of demons, undead, and dragons to ask, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’ The Queen asked in turn, ‘Are you attempting to get me to draw my sword on you?’ in response to the question, while the Knight said ‘I do not hate the shadow itself, but the one who casts it.’ The Queen then said ‘Yes’. The faithseeker found himself between the coppershelled rises of URGUAN , where he saw a lone Dwarf hammering white-hot metal. To the stout one he asked, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’ The Dwarf responded, ‘Depends on the Shadow’, in his brogue. He became too uncomfortable to produce an answer to a question of Canonist faith. Then, he walked betwixt walls he ought not venture into; He found himself in the Wood Elven hold of NEVAEHLEN, where he encountered a Dedicant of the Druidic mission; A librarian, and former apprentice to an Ownyst Lectorate. He asked him, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’ The Dedicant responded, “Nay, we should pity it.” He continued, “We should slay The Shadow where it is found, but not hate it.” The elf took his query to REINMAR where he found a child, who insisted he ask her the question, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’ The little girl answered simply, “Yes we should - Because they are spawns of Iblees.” She thought he was Darkspawn for asking. Onto HOKHMAT he went, where he found a pair of voidal mages he had met several times before, along with a talking tome. He looked between the two familiar women as the academy beyond loomed over them and, gleefully, rendered the question unto them, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’ The first mage asked, ‘The Shadow of What?’ The second said ‘No. The Shadow is the unknown. We may hate what is within the Shadow, but not the Shadow itself.’ The speaking tome answered with confusion, ‘The world was dark, before it was light. There is no reason to hate the Shadow, for it came first.’ The first mage, upon hearing of the querying elf’s travels spurned the people of Reinmar, agreeing with the tome when it said their people ought to be anointed in Voidal Flame. Dwelling deep in the desert, after a sweltering journey, the elf found himself beyond sandy cliffs in the home of THE IRON HORDE, where he stood before a group of Orcs who looked upon the seeker strangely when he asked, ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’ The leader of the group said, ‘If you refer to Darkspawn, then yes. Kill them all.’ The Orcs reported to the elf that all Canonists were to be killed by them. The seeker felt relieved to have been allowed to leave. After seven groups, and seven holds, the errant elf- exhausted- found himself back within the lands of HANSETI-RUSKA, where his journey began. He stared around himself, at a quiet city until the hoof-falls of an impending stampede beckoned his attention to the front gate. There came a glittering force of the faithful, the honored Patriarch among them. The errant elf thought to himself- he’d queried Aevos’ people, all but one. So he would ask, staring at his reflection in a puddle. ‘OUGHT WE HATE THE SHADOW?’

"Well- That's a pleasant surprise!" A young mali says with a smile to her face, "I'm sure lari’maronn is pretty pleased, let's hope this truce stays this way."

ON: 5th of Sun’s Smile, 179 S.A 5th of Javier’s Justice, 101 D.R With the signing and promulgation of this document, the Sovereignty of Hyspia and the Duchy of Brabant, henceforth referred to as ‘the signatories’, do agree on their honor to the terms laid forth hereafter. ARTICLE I - RECOGNITION The signatories recognise the authority, legitimacy, leadership, & titles of the counter-signatories, with mutual respect of each ability to exercise their powers within their realms, the recognition of their respective borders & to conduct diplomacy as they see fit. ARTICLE II - NON-AGRESSION That the signatories pledge to adhere to principles of peace between each other, and, on the basis of sharing belief in the one true Canonist faith, shall not wage war upon one another or try to bring harm to the integrity of each other’s territories in any way, shape or form ARTICLE III - TRADE & TRAVEL A. The signatories agree to allowing the free movement of their respective citizenries between the two realms. B. The signatories grant each other one shop or stall in each other’s capital which shall be free of tax, to enable trade to flourish between the two realms. ARTICLE IV - DARKSPAWN The Signatories agree to lend mutual support, such as in the form of military, in all cases that involve a darkspawn (vampires, demons, undead, etc.) threat in one another’s domain. ARTICLE V - FRIENDSHIP To commemorate the friendship between these two states, the Sylvan Duchy of Brabant will gift the Viceroyalty of Hyspia 4 llamas and 3 purebred horses. ARTICLE VI - DURATION May the pact be in effect for 15 years, and the friendship be in perpetuity. Signed, His Grace, Ser Sterling Blaxton-Whitewood, Duke of Brabant, Marquis of Lotusgrad, Baron of Blackwell, Lilenburg and Swan’s Keep, Lord of the Peaks, Protector of the Weefolk. HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Ramona de Pelear, Sovereign Princess of Hyspia, Duchess of Pacazu, Baroness of Arenisca and Del’mar, Lady of Ladorada, Lady of Niseep, Gereon's Hold, and Ciudad de Plata, Gran Maestress of El Orden de Francisco, Protector of the Hyspian People, Protector of the Farfolk, Matriarch of House de Pelear HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Dimitri Otto of Korvia, Sovereign Prince-Consort of Hyspia, Duke-Consort of Pacazu, Baron-Consort of Arenisca and Del’mar, Lord of Ladorada, Lord of Niseep, Gereon's Hold, and Ciudad de Plata, Gran Maestre of El Orden de Francisco, Protector of the Hyspian People, Protector of the Farfolk