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it was another casual day for Panya, continuing with the construction of her new city. She points a few people around and plans the designs for various buildings. Such a thing requires a /long/ break. She ventures out in which she comes across the missive. "I knew we should've killed that [REDACTED]." Panya rolls her eyes, pocketing the missive and taking it back home to show the other Rah'tumans in the temple of Hesthor. She sit's down a handful of her people, especially Atemu and Arvel. She tugs at the edges of the paper to de-crinkle it a bit and put it on display for the others to see. "You'll never guess who has a bounty on his head. Beard-scratching sniffy guy." - "I knew he was gross but I didn't think he'd be a kidnapper. Though, this should be no issue. Mina for construction, and I think we all know the punishment for harmin' kids. Dont we?" And for those that do not know . . ╔⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤╗ 31. Committing violence against a child is especially prohibited in Rah’tuma. The punishment includes being burnt alive in the fires of the Ra’tuhmet’s temple, or being fed to a pit of crocodiles, or execution by beheading. ╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝ "Fingers may have been removed the last time that a child was hurt, though I do not believe mercy should be shown this time around." With that, her speech comes to a conclusion. Allowing others to respond . .

pls /d40 irl? 🤠

Music The Banshee Queen By; Unknown Trees bent in terror of her name, Living creatures ran in fear and shame. Screams can be heard, as the harsh wind blows You know she’s near, by the murder of crows It's said that those who wander into her domain, Are never seen again, not while she reigns. And those who cross her, her rage will snow A fate worse than death awaits them, they know The people of the north did quake and cower, Lest the witch would cast her wicked power. As the people searched for a way to be free, The witch's powers began to weaken and flee. She fled as she learned of her dying light Our courage and strength returned this night For the hunters could now lower their hoods, But they still remained afraid of the woods. Still heed this warning, still heed this tale That cannibal witch always returned without fail Women grew anxious, inside they could feel She would soon return for her next meal. Her wicked laugh still echoed in our minds The flesh of men, is what she dined Her wickedness stained all of our dreams The witch in the north, the Banshee Queen In the far northern reaches of Aevos, a violent winter storm clawed its way over the snow-capped mountain. The winds howled like lost souls, whipping snow and ice into a frenzied dance. A thunderous crack rent the air, and the sky split open in a brilliant, electric blue as a bolt of lightning struck the mountain's peak. The entire mountain groaned, a deep, unsettling sound that reverberated through the earth. Beneath its solid, ancient rock lay a labyrinth of caves and caverns, dark and secretive. In one of these hidden recesses stood a grotesque tree-like structure, crafted entirely from ghostly ice. At its base jutted a capsule of ice, a frozen tumor in the mountain's belly. As the mountain trembled, two deep blue lights began to glow from within the icy cocoon, casting eerie shadows in the subterranean gloom. Soon, a feminine grey hand wrenched itself free from the icy prison, the long, manicured nails clawing against the frost in a desperate bid for freedom. An intense exhale marked her emergence, her breath steaming in the frigid air. Her sleek, snow-white hair cascaded down either side of her face as the icy witch took a confident step forward, her eyes gleaming with a terrible knowledge. The cold air was sucked towards her in a swift, unnatural breath, as if the mountain itself was gasping in anticipation. Then she released a horrendous scream, a sound that tore through the chamber like a banshee's wail, causing the ice to contort and twist into grotesque shapes, writhing as if in agony. The mountain shuddered again, acknowledging the return of something ancient and malevolent. Eileen turned to gaze into a flat surface of ice, her lips curling into a grin at the sight of her own reflection. The witch's ascension was complete. She could feel the raw, crackling power coursing through her body, making her skin tingle and her eyes glow with a newfound intensity. Her body seemed to radiate with an otherworldly health, a vibrant glow that spoke of dark magic and ancient pacts fulfilled. She made her way through the empty corridors, her nails scraping against the walls with a slow, deliberate screech before she broke into a sudden, manic skip. The witch began to sing with wicked glee, her voice echoing eerily through the deserted halls. She twirled, her laughter sharp and unsettling. "Finally, oh Lumia, you'd be so proud..." she crooned, her words dripping with a twisted joy, each step and note a testament to her dark triumph. The witch emerged from the entrance of their hideout, arms outstretched to embrace the raging storm that tore through the night. The wind whipped her stark white hair into a frenzy, and she let out a hideous cackle that echoed into the darkness, mingling with the howls of the tempest. Her laughter was a blight upon the night, a chilling sound that promised chaos and ruin.

“He.. replaced me.” A gremlin wept from the great beyond.

Juniper squinted at the missive. And then, she shrugged, unsurprised. "Magic beggars always seem to get themselves in extra trouble..."

AN IN-DEPTH LOOK INTO HYSPIA On the 14th day of Maria’s Peace of 103 D.R. Infanta In-fan-ta A daughter of the second-in-line to the Hyspian throne. Infante In-fan-te A son of the second-in-line to the Hyspian throne. What Are They? The Infanta, or Infante, is a special role within Hyspian society that exists within a gray area. Considered that of lesser royalty, they can only be born from the second-in-line to the Hyspian throne, and only if the second-in-line did not marry out. Should these ambiguous conditions be met, an Infanta or Infante is born. Stylized with the honorific of ‘Your Highness’, they are considered to be above the noble-born Lord and Lady but below that of the royal-born Prince and Princess. Their role in Hyspia is to provide for the crown and citizenry, and should the worst happen to the main-line, to take on the role of Princes and Princesses and to go on to lead Hyspia. An interesting fact: The first of their title and name to be known in history, is that of twins born to the Prince Arman of Hyspia and his consort, the Princess Carmen. Born in the year 1959 was His Highness, Infante Rafael Arsenico and born shortly after him was Her Highness, Infanta Renata Alba, as evidenced in this missive, ‘The Break of Daylight | The Birth of Twin Foals’. They would go on to set the precedent of what an Infanta and Infante may do and become. What Can They Do? While the lesser royals have fewer perks than their higher-ranked cousins, they still have quite a few advantages that differentiate them from those noble-born. Much like their cousins, upon their fifteenth, they are granted a titular title to hold for their station that will go back to the crown upon death. This, more often than not, shall be a Barony. They are not granted a royal guard, and nor may they wear a tiara or crown - this honor reserved for their royal-born cousins. Instead, they may wear circlets or diadems. In case of debuts into society, or Hyspia’s El Puente, they may wear the heirlooms of their ancestors - a time in life which they may don the tiaras or crowns withheld otherwise when they debut alongside their royal-born cousins. Upon marriage, an Infanta or Infanta cannot make more of the title, but instead go on to make Lords and Ladies under their name - much like their royal-born cousins. An interesting fact: Should the work be put in by the Infanta or Infante, they can be promoted to that of a Prince or Princess, just the same as they may be demoted from their roles for a lack of work. This was showcased in the promotion of Her Highness, Infanta Renata Alba to Her Royal Highness, Princess-Royal Renata Alba circa 103 D.R, as evidenced in this missive, ‘An Amendment to Titles’. Promotion does not change their position in succession, but it does allow for the other benefits their royal-born cousins are granted, such as a royal guard and the honor of wearing tiaras and crowns. Signed, Her Royal Highness, Renata Alba, Princess-Royal of Hyspia, Duchess of La Dorada, Baroness of Clemente

An Announcement from the Office of the Chief Justice - Issued on 12th of the Grand Harvest 181 SA- Wanted DEAD OR ALIVE For crimes of Kidnapping, Assault, and Attempt [i] A Sketch of a shirtless individual with many tattoos could be seen here. [i] Ivarr Reward 400 Minas Named Ivarr, the individual pictured above poses a threat of the highest caliber towards the citizens of Brabant and their safety. Riding in on a bear, he will most likely appear shirtless with several blue tattoos all over his body. Although he may appear friendly, he is a man of dangerous nature who through his own actions attempted to kidnap a granddaughter of the Duke of Brabant, assaulted a lady of Brabant and through his magic assaulted its Chief Justice. Such heinous crimes shall not go unpunished. Ivarr will face justice and immediate verdict upon arrest as the judiciary has deemed that there is no question of guilt for the crimes of Ivarr. Ivarr is a dangerous individual, most likely a warlock. His tattoos are not just for decoration but serve as an embodiment of his magical abilities. From what was observed, Ivarr is capable of using the wind and spewing fire out of his hands. Though he may also contain other dangerous abilities, he also has a bear so be weary of fighting this man alone. Any Information relating to ’Ivarr’ must be reported to the Chief Justice or the Duke of Brabant. 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. Firr Stefan Starling Chief Justice of the Duchy of Brabant

A tiny mossborn read over the runes slowly before a small grin appeared at the end.

I wish I had more rp reasoning to visit. I miss the old dwarves and the goofy old wars.

Sofiele stares at this missive with a rather…cold face. A simple “fine” is all she mentioned

((rigs a fight with the azdrazi, leaves mid CRP, then departs from the paladin side. ur scum + ur runes aren’t real don’t read them)).

The azdrazi who understood runic text perfectly didn't remember seeing anything like that there before, clearly, he thought, it was a troll.

Grelu read the missive and began to laugh so much he felt like he died.