The Gentlemen's Society

[Sagwort 832]

Est. 1475

gen·tle·man [jen-tl-muh n, pl -men]

a civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man: He behaved like a true gentleman.

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The Gentlemen’s Society is an order of extraordinary and exquisite men of a higher standard in living.  Together, we learned Sirs hope to educate and explore the more affluent contours of philosophy and disciplines.

 

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The Gentleman’s Code

1. The Gentleman means what he says and says what he means

 

2. The Gentleman shall observe scholarly, and judge indifferently

 

3. The Gentleman is always presentable

 

4. The Gentleman does not utter foul language, it shows no class

 

5. The Gentleman’s preferred form of combat is bare knuckle boxing

 

6. The Gentleman’s facial hair is habitual, scriptural, and beneficial

 

7. The Gentleman is well versed in the philosophical, inebriant, belvederes, muliebrous, and vestments

 

8. The Gentleman is punctual

 

9. The Gentleman has jurisdiction over his fervor

 

10. The Gentleman takes great honor in his hat

 

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“The world is full of boys, be a man”

 

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The Chevalier Gazette

“Look Sharp, Live Smart”

 

For the literate patrician, the Gentlemen’s Society offers The Chevalier Gazette: a contemporary and illuminating commentary on the most current and alluring occurrences of the realm.  It also includes guidance upon vestments, euphoria, and living a more illustrious and ethical lifestyle.

 

Members will receive a complimentary subscription, though those who are not so fortunate may compensate with a 20.00 mina payment per Gazette.  Inform our Vice-Chairman if you wish for an accession.

 

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Aquantincing

The Society is decidedly selective in who they admit into the circle of Gentlemen.  Several rigorous trials must first be concluded before the initiation process may take place.

 

To those who adhere to the Society, we invite you to compose a poem and install it below.  If the poem meets a most poignant and passionate of precedents, an invitations will be sent to those the Society believes to meet the communal definitive of our doctrine.

 

The Board

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- Chairman Ambros -

 

- Vice-Chairman Jingeh Claw -

 

- Beverage Dissemination Officer Wikz Claw -

 

- Somatic Cajolery Consultant Draen Aris -

 

Affiliates

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-Xavier de Sola-

 

-Nathaniel Wilde-

 

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“Swagger is for boys, class is for men.”

[Ser Paul Ryan 1138]

Ser Paul Ryan immediately sends his messenger eagle, seeking entrance 

 

 

 

A beautifully inscribed haiku lies below:

 

 

Oh, sweet liberty

You mean everything to me

Paul Ryan is cool

[Guest Guest]

A random man walks by and lightly mutters a phrase under his warm breath.

 

"Boys have swag... men have class."

[Mirtok 2848]

*Mirtok puts together an elegantly crafted envelope sealed with blackened wax adorning the iconic Black Cross of the Teutonic Order. The contents within' are the words the fabled Hochmeister once used as he attempted to court his beloved wife. She was unable to contain herself . . .

 

"To my beloved,

 

In her absence it seems to become clear,

She leaves an empty void calling out from the darkness.

A longing of the heart spawned in her wake and noblesse

My strength only exceeds what my own heart can endere

To her, I ache for thee so. But why dwell on loss and fear

As though the world were actually absent of her loveliness?

Hark and to you I surely must profess,

For you my heart is the most sincere.

I promise to thee that I am truly sworn,

To your beauty and soul, forever entombed.

It is meant to be, our souls en masse;

An ocean divides us but much is not forlorn,

Your soft ethereal heart beats in the land of Queens and bloom

For me to long for and someday feel, dat ass."

[Sagwort 832]

Ser Paul Ryan immediately sends his messenger eagle, seeking entrance 

 

 

 

A beautifully inscribed haiku lies below:

 

 

Oh, sweet liberty

You mean everything to me

Paul Ryan is cool

 

-An ornate teacup shoots from a nearby shrub, cracking to display a sumptuous note within-

 

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Paul Ryan is not 'cool'

 

Paul Ryan is not at all 'cool'

 

Paul Ryan will never be 'cool'

 

 

-The Gentlemen's Society-

 

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[Space 2333]

Aeran laughs, elbowing the tavern patron beside him, a rather dreary looking snelf who has been less then pleased with some of the songs being sung.

 

"Only Gentleman's club I like is banned, knowwhatI'msaying?

[Bawd 222]

A message is sent, written elegantly in the hand of a semi-literate Goblin.

"BAWD AM WUNNA JUYN. GIB BAWD HAT. RULG. BAWD JUNTELMUN."

The message is signed, in a fluid script:

"BAAAAAAAAAAAAWD."

[bickando 3395]

Andrew va Dracaena sends a letter with a normal bit of wax and and a small seal of a house nobody knows.

 

Moonlight shines above,

A beautiful sonata sounds across the village,

Evidence enough the musician in love,

Only truth missing would be his love.

 

A hundred miles away does a battle rage,

A man fighting for his partner and country,

Dissonance in the steel is a warmonger's party,

And truly, his valor might win the day.

 

Three days travel on his trusted steed,

A smoke plume rises from his love's village,

The wreckage and carnage visible to all,

On his dead lover he did found a throwing knife,

And he did shout, the tune of a different age,

"Damn Edgy Elves!"

[xboxersz 221]

*A poem is pinned onto one of the posters.

The Battle:

Two groups of men stand out in the sand

Red or blue surcoats mark each of the bands

Weapons of all different sorts in their hands

Ready to fight, and spill blood on the land

Each side charges forward, swords clash, and men fall

The blue men are slaughtered, their soldiers are mauled

The surviving blue troops are attempting to crawl

Away as the red men are left standing tall

The war has been lost, but the battle is won

The moon has come up, and down goes the sun

There are many a valiant songs to be sung

Since the fighting is finished, is over, is done

~Copernicus Vanderson II

[Asgeir 27]

*Nathaniel stumbles down the street, smelling of alcohol and covered in the latest batch of bruises from a fistfight. He glances at a poster on the wall advertising the Gentlemen's Society.*

 

"Hmmm… perhaps it is time to return to my old life…"

 

*He looks down at his scarred, calloused hands. They were his weapons, his tools, his life. Could he leave behind the pain and sorrow of his past? He did not know, but he was damn well going to try! Nathaniel proceeds to steal some high-quality ink and parchment from an unguarded stall, then sits at a public bench to write a poem in surprisingly good handwriting.*

 

The Letter

 

'Neath the glow - of a shining crescent moon,

A young boy cried out at his plight,

Though not a soul in the crowd - had stopped to listen,

Beneath that silver moonlight.

 

His breath came and went - in ragged gasps,

His sobs falling 'pon deafened ears,

This contempt and neglect - among other things too,

Are the cause of his violent years.

 

Then along came a lass - of elegance and class,

At their shared age of sixteen,

To stop and to listen - her ruby locks a'glisten,

To what the older boy had seen.

 

They came to be friends - and good ones at that,

Over the course of a year,

She taught him to write - He taught her to laugh,

And to each-other, they were held dear.

 

She spoke with her father - a stubborn old Count,  *The 'O' in 'Count' has been scribbled out, then hastily placed back again.*

About whether he could stay,

The old man agreed - but this he guaranteed,

"One wrong move, and I'll send him away."

 

Dressed in fine clothing - versed in good manners,

And sporting an excellent tan,

After a year - it did quite appear,

That the boy was becoming a man,

 

One fateful night - when the stars shone like diamonds,

The two did creep to her room,

They made sweetest love - 'neath that blanket of stars,

And with that he had sealed her doom.

 

'Pon the next morn - with a mighty roar,

The father drove them from bed,

Aiming at him a slash - with his mighty broadsword,

Which caught his daughter instead.

 

She hit the ground - both men crying aloud,

Her face not displaying her pain,

She uttered to him - her final loving words,

And then never breathed again.

 

He struck at her father - who stood there stunned,

The cursed blade slipped from his grasp,

Roaring with fury and rage - he ripped at his throat,

Killing him before he could gasp.

 

The man escaped with his life - although just barely,

As the guards finally arrived,

Though to him this fact - was no victory,

As of his lover he was deprived.

 

He still visits her grave - 'pon the peak of a hill,

When the stars are shining bright,

He brings a single red rose - the kind that she chose,

And stays for the rest of the night.

 

'Neath the glow - of a dull crescent moon,

A young man cried out that night,

Though not a soul in their graves - did stir to listen,

Beneath that silver moonlight.

 

 

*Nathaniel wipes some stray tears from his eyes as he finishes the poem, a few dropping onto the bottom of the page.*

 

"Urgh… I'm going to need some new clothes…" *He mutters, looking down at his open leather jacket and tight-fitting stained pants, the only items of clothing he owns.*

 

*He pins the letter to the poster, then saunters off to find appropriate clothing.*

[The Great Mongol Khan 1091]

Lucius thinks to himself "Illuminati"

[hellfiazz 878]

Buubztik tips his fedora and scratches his neck beard as he speaks "En diz muumint, mi am yuuforik. Nub bikuz ub duh wurdz ub uh fuuni god, bud bikuz mi am enlytun'd bah mi un intellijunz."

[_pok_ 1759]

Alexander, who has no poetry skills, places his hand on his forehead and sits down. For awhile he paces across the room of his manor before sitting down and grabbing a quill. He begins to write.

 

To Whom it May Concern,

I am truly not a poet

But since my wealth is on an upturn

So I'll put my name on the Ballot

 

To join your privileged society

I offer to you in return

My mansion truly wealthy

In both knowledge and lack of lowborn

 

My eligibility should be unquestioned

With wealth accumulated for far beyond my years

However all of this may be hard to comprehend

For it all came from the backs of peasant's tears

 

I am Alexander Stewart

Humble Sheriff of Ivy Hall

I serve in no man's court

And hope to prove myself to you all

[TheBareSheet 194]

"Is there no Ladies' Society? Discriminatory and appalling."

[Glyc 234]

This current Guild has been deemed inactive and has hereby been moved.

If you wish to appeal this decision you must present evidence to myself proving the guild is still active.