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Panya-ha Luceran would spend another day doing her Panya things. She kicks her feet in the fountain of Rah'tuma when she notices Atum's attention is caught on smoke. She gives him a rather confused look before returning to kick her feet. She is blissfully unaware of the events until later on that day. . . "Who the hell is Gashadokuro?" She says to Atemu.

The Rahmun Prince would stand watch over his city, awaiting his family's return. Then the smoke began to rise high above the trees. "No..." He dropped to his knees with tears soon in his eyes. "No, not again..."

Hello all! I’m Zanael, some of you may know me as Patches the King of the Musin. For me when I first joined LotC I was so happy with the fact I’d found a place where I could do D&D styled Roleplay on Minecraft. Finding out there was a couple of races that wasn’t the standard fantasy races made me intrigued. I started on this server as a Human, tried a High Elf, then one day decided to make a Musin. At the time when I made my Musin, I noticed there was very little players playing as the micefolk, and that they didn’t have a place to call their own on Aevos. So after seeing that I made it my mission to build a Musin vassal, and so Babblebrook was made. What I love about Musin is the sense of community I’ve encountered, everyone has been so helpful and nice in helping build up our culture and town and from that I saw a rise in Musin CA’s being made. Now I only play a Musin. what I like about Musin: * The kind and helpful community: Those who will help new Musin players make a CA, get a skin etc. * The whimsical adventure RP: due to our love of adventures and legends, having Musin go out and travel to new places and see new things is really neat. There’s no politics or stress really needed since there’s enough of that with every other race. It’s a way to actually unwind. * the random ooc/ irp messages saying how cute my musin is or how much people love musin. It puts a smile on my face. Things I wish would Change: * The random irp/ooc hate towards musin: With the good times, there’s been some bad times where Musin have been the target of hate/discrimination because what? We’re small mice people? Or we’re players who like playing as such? It’s never really explained. * People saying they’ll make a musin CA and then never play as said Musin: I’ve met a lot of people as Patches: the king of the Musin and people have told me they’d like to make a Musin. this makes me happy since it helps build our community, but what I’ve noticed is that effort is made to help with CA struggles, make a skin for the new player etc then either they play the Musin for a day or never play it. I’d love it if people who wanted to play a Musin were a bit more committed to it. (Irl stuff considered if it stops them playing.) What I’d like to see in the future for Musin: * Musin themed items: every other culture have their own style of rp items so why shouldn’t we? * Musin shops/ trades: Agreeing with DrFong I think there could be more trades that Musin can go into. * Musin players who want to take part in Babblebrook roleplay and to make it feel like a proper town. I want to thank anyone who reads this and wish them a great day/night!

Barrowlord Fornotos, Herald of Strife merrily frolicks through the Xionist-owned fields of corn hidden deep beneath Lumbridge, blissfully ignorant of the corn-impoverished farmers of Braevos.

John sat outside of Kositz, cigar dangling from his lip as he read the letter fresh off the desk. A small bit of peace in an ocean of grief - it was something. The man tucked it into his coat pocket and rose back up, walking through the doors to head to his widower's old room.

THE LITTLE SAILOR "By Bones and Barrows.” Per Ossa et in Barcis Issued by the County of Kositz 17th of the Grand Harvest, 108 B.A The Comital Household of Ruthern formally announces the passing of His Lordship, Rhys Marcelo var Ruthern. With tradition, the house shall adorn black garbs while they experience the great loss of the House’s Practitioner and brother of the current peer. May his soul, in due time, eternally rest within the Seven Skies, or so shall GOD see to those of the dark struck down to eternal damnation. To Irene Vy have claimed the life of mea borsa, vy will pay in blood. Y declare this to vy, if vyr to show face within the realm of Balian, Y, e many like meaself, shall claim vyr head e mount it to a pike. Mea borsa shall be avenged only with vyr death. May Malchediael guide eam in vyr slaughter. His Excellency, Ser Demetrius Laonicus ‘Al Valiant’ var Ruthern, Count of Kositz, Baron of Vastravo, Lord of Alriczan, Patriarch of the Senior Line of House Ruthern, Marshal of the Regiment of Saint Lothar, Constable of the Royal Duana. Her Excellency, Dame Viktora Carosa ‘Al Obstinate‘ vas Ruthern, Heiress of the Senior Line of House Ruthern, Advisor to the Royal Duana.

"Brother..." murmured an old Oyashiman, "Treading in the footsteps of Hahaoya are we?" she'd smile briefly, but it was quickly cut short "Curse you."

The atmosphere in the West of Braevos this evening brimmed with the exuberance of the Koyo-Kuni festival. Revelers admired elegant dresses, savored Chicken Katsu from the Grub Bucket, and engaged in spirited sumo challenges. Little did they anticipate the impending cataclysm that would shatter their merriment. As the night unfolded, the eastern sky blazed with infernal fury, unleashing chaos upon the unsuspecting city. From the depths of Hell itself, an army emerged, plunging the village into a nightmarish battle between the living and the damned. At the heart of the conflict loomed the dread Gashadokuro, orchestrating the mayhem with sinister intent. By dawn, the valiant efforts of the city's defenders had faltered, yielding to the relentless onslaught. Forced to retreat, the heroes left behind a cityscape reduced to smoldering ruins, overrun by grotesque horrors emerging from the ashes. The once serene Cursed Forests now served as the domain of the Lich-King, his relentless siege marking the beginning of his reign of terror. With Sakuragakurai in ruins, the sinister ruler moved to fortify his newfound stronghold, casting a fiery pentacle over the land. A few scraps of flesh spread throughout the realm by some unknown means, carrying bloody chicken scratch which spoke an ominous warning, “I… COME…”

An imp stirred around in ire within the writhing the pits of the horrific realm, his home, the Moz. After having been slain he wouldn’t remember his slayer but couldn’t help but feel as if his death was unique and that whatever killed him hopefully remembered his face or if he died by falling down the impossibly long stairs “DAAL WILL FREE HIMSELF IN MONTHS MONTHS! GASHADOOKIEKURO WAIT FOR MEEEEEE!”

There is shouting in the dungeon. Deia stands by the door, amidst the blood and muck, and watches as it stains her shoes, stains her. The breeze brushes past to the cells and back out against her spine and she’s so very cold. Everything is cold without the Queen. In the shadow of her death, they call her the White Flame. They call her venerated and a Queen of the people (what is left of the people) and they speak of her kindness, her generosity, her love, as a mistake to learn from. Red pools at her feet like water and she feels the brush of fingertips against her ankle, the first of a trail of corpses that will lead her to her sister. She doesn’t have to look to know their wounds, nor that they will ever flow, an endless fountain from a slit throat, a pierced heart, a skewered eye. She doesn’t have to look to know there are dozens. For her. For them. For love. The gruesome sound of a glaive against flesh makes her open her eyes. When she turns towards the wail that follows, the dungeon door is stainless, there is no weight in her hands, and Amaya is still dead. Look, a voice demands, at what she has wrought.

Bor of Hazum began to fortify Mugmar's Circle against the infernal invaders as the Hill Giant Spiritual Leader worked to calm and keep his herd of absolutely horrified mammoths in check, less they run rampant in the forests and escape elsewhere. . . "Bor realleh wish Buddeh Dur wahs nae away roight now!" he said with a grumble, offering many prayers to MUGMAR: THE TITAN OF HAZUM as his chosen Voice lumbered about busy.

Dhen looked at the missive, simply saying “John’s insulting poem must of been too good. She is taking the ones he loves because she can’t make a better song. I must pen one for John to join the cause.” The thing then turned around and set to work writing down the next big Balian hit

(An advertisement posted towards the bottom of the notice board at your favorite watering hole) Are you exhausted by your ordinary, slow-moving, everyday life? Looking for a new hobby and an exciting way to spend your time and money? Do you have a need for speed? Welcome to the Babblebrook Railmeister's Club! We're a motley crew of minecart enthusiasts, drawn together by our love of the rails and the rush of high-speed minecart racing. What started as an efficient way for Halflings to move grain to the coast, was quickly co-opted by thrill-seeking Musin youth who took to riding the empty grain carts just "to see how fast they could go". This dangerous pastime was later formalized into the Babblebrook Railmeister’s Club. But we're more than just a club; we're a family, bonded by our shared love of minecarts and the freedom of the rails. As a member of the Babblebrook Railmeister's Club, enjoy these exciting amenities: Customize and decorate your own minecart to reflect your unique personality and style. Add souped up wheels and imported goose-grease. Experiment in our minecart garage and clubhouse. Participate in high-speed races and challenges on the area’s meticulously crafted minecart tracks. Explore the stunning landscapes and hidden gems around Babblebrook and Dunwen from the comfort of your individual minecart. Travel on group outings for a chance to ride some of the best minecart tracks (industrial and otherwise) in Aevos. The Babblebrook Railmeister's Club is seeking brave and adventurous souls from all races to join our minecart enthusiast club. Whether you're a seasoned rail veteran or a newcomer looking for your first big thrill, there's a place for you among the Railmeisters! All aboard for the ride of a lifetime!

Viktoria continues to squint through her confusion, unable to read her own name on the parchment.

[!] The missive was reprinted and re-distributed. (Apologies, it got messy in the copy + paste and I was being lazy)

Holly Galbraith sent a letter to Irene, her words filled with nothing but fury and determination .

Viktoria, a colorblind Ruthern, squinted at the missive in silence. "Var? Jest that what that says?"

The man lounged in his desk chair as he read the letter, before staring at the name for a moment. He'd take a minute to re-read it, before saying - loud enough for the Druid in the house to hear, "Oh **** off, you're alive?"

Ember The blind seer squints her closed eyes (Ooc: please fix the formatting much love)

A holly-adorned medic squinted as she read the missive. "Why would someone write with the same color ink as the paper? This isn't scary, this is illegible!"