joshun_ 200 Popular Post Share Posted December 17, 2021 ╭─────────────╮ Falling of the Tide ╰─────────────╯ "Heave, ho! On a moonlit night, heave, ho! Raise the anchor! Heave, ho! On a stormy night, heave, ho! Hoist the sail! Heave, ho! With our stars as our guide, heave, ho! Set course for treasure! Heave, ho, set the rum aside! Throw modesty to the wind, and set your sights ahead, there’s no way that we won’t win!" A song written by the young Mareno. ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ At the apex of his life, and his career, Herakles was called once more to the life he knew best. There was no room for argument, no room for strife- this is what he was born for… and what he had to do. His ambitions aside, he had one goal, shared by many. In Myrine, he sat, the man tapping his fingers on the table as the town was engulfed with sorrow at his Uncle’s passing. He had failed in his goal, and he had to make amends. He stood up with bated breath and walked out of the Pufferfish Pub to be met by his father, along with some comrades in arms. Their apparel wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but he knew what he had to do. The conflict against Urguan and Oren had started, and before the Emperor before Philp the Third had perished, he and the Ferrymen were just spectators, choosing fights of their own accord, and taking the opportunity of chaos and strife in the two warring nations to profit. When the coup d’etat had finally settled, they were hired as the front line of the Urguani forces. For many battles, he along with his comrades were making sure the war was in favor of the Dwarves, fighting countless battles and skirmishes against the forces of the Empire and coming out on top. Perhaps this overconfidence was his folly, much like that of the people he had no respect for. It was a plan like any other, gather forces and harass those on the Orenian roads, telling those traveling them to go astray, and if they refused, meeting them with the cold steel of their blade. Routine as normal; but it was anything but that. Little respite was found before being attacked by the forces of the Imperial Army. And while the man put up a good fight, he was struck down by one of the cravens he so despised. Bound up and taken back into the capital city, he was taken to the palace and thrown before the Empress. The cold, conniving woman decided to take the execution to the throne room, where he would be beheaded before those he despised the most. In his final moments, the young Mareno decided to use a persona he had made up before the battle, and make one last speech before perishing. ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ “You have done well to survive this long, Oren. You are the little lamb that has gone through conflict and strife thus far, clinging to life!” He would yell to the crowd as he was forced to his knees. “I am the Trumpeter! It is I who will announce the end of time! After I perish, my comrades will see who is worthy of standing among those strong in the final battle!” “Seize the victory from our hands, if you can!” He cried to those in audience of the execution a challenge. “A little lamb? This empire is a lion. Are those your last words, then, Trumpeter?” The empress quoted in response, her blade at the ready. “A lion does not tremble before anyone... Bear that in mind.” As he uttered his final words, the Empress swiftly beheaded the man with a sword of cold steel, that of which he had killed many as well. A befitting end for a bandit. But he was not just a bandit, but a person too, with aspirations, and goals in life. ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ Herakles Mareno was a man who wanted nothing more than to uphold the heavy shadow that was cast upon him by his father. To live up to his expectations, and to prove himself to those who doubted him. He made friends and enemies along the way, saw sights that no one could lest they went out and lived their life to the fullest. But he would not die in vain. His death will prove if Oren can uphold the standards that they set upon themselves. The little lamb… or the lion that they claim to be? Those that fight are the ones to determine that. Goodbye, everyone. My comrades, my family, Uncle Cyrus... Father... 35 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Willstertheking2 1101 Share Posted December 17, 2021 Wholesome Willy wiped his blade as he sat inside the stone tower. He looked over to Robin with a tear in his eye as he stood up and slammed his fist into the wall. Blood pouring out from his knuckles. "Fine. They want no mercy? Then they will have no mercy." Spoiler @Deano 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Eryane 3629 Share Posted December 17, 2021 (edited) Spoiler As the men of the ISA poured in with news of their victory, the Empress had been quietly seated at the head of a table where the nobles of the imperial court mingled amongst one another. With pride for her people's win, she led them and the rest of the congregation into the throne room. Yet seeing the man after their exchanged words, knelt before her, it had then come to her realization that he too easily could have been one of her own men - in a different land, in a different situation. Anastasya made certain the death was quick, yet a spectacle as he had requested. Although they had been on opposite sides of this war, her respect for him remained as he stood strong until his final breath. "May he rest in peace now," said she as she left the throne room thereafter. Spoiler Yo, wanted to say thank you again for being so cool with the rp. I hope that it was good rp for you, kudos to you for PKing my guy o7 Edited December 17, 2021 by Eryane 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sarmadonn 652 Share Posted December 17, 2021 Worm sat outside his stone tower, deep in meditation before breaking it. A tear fell from his eye, he had seen the young lad grow up, and was sad to see him gone. He wiped a singular tear, before raising his hands to the sky, reciting a prayer for his fallen friend. Spoiler big respect to @joshun_for having the courage to actually pk, hopefully it sets an example for everyone else! 7 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
LatzMomo 2088 Share Posted December 17, 2021 Robin Grimaces, throwing his lance with as much strength as his arms would let him, the weapon flying through the air and sticking up in the dirt. He looks to Wholesome Willy with a deep, perhaps permanent frown. "If my lance had only struck true, the lad would have lived to see another day, ****! alas.." he sighed once more in a depressed state. "I did not dehorse that fucker." Alexandros sheds a tear but remains silent, grief overcame his face and was only halted when his expression was masked in green, he would get revenge for his uncle and childhood friend. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
excited 10833 Share Posted December 17, 2021 "Good men have perished." said Ser Cato "Perea". His name, much like himself, a walking mirage. An illusion. An allusion too, alluding to the Orenian Kings of old. Now why would a wayward son of Arpad pay such respect to a long dead house? That is beyond even his own reckoning. His thoughts drifted to the heavy metal instrument he cast aside to begin playing a banjo, and then he reminded himself that he had no time for his own madness. Momentarily, he considered the passing of the bygone Ferryman soldier. "Into the annals of time you go. Goodbye, denizen of Myrine. You fought bravely. Many more good men will die; but the Empire shall prevail." 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
hiiampal 67 Share Posted December 17, 2021 (edited) The Grunt of Stone Tower sat within an old decrepit bar alone, pouring two glasses of Myrinian Whiskey. One now in his hand while the other across of his being, for his fallen comrade. The bar awfully quiet, no patrons willing to make small talk with the grieving ferryman. Soon after downing both glasses, making his way outside before pouring the rest of the bottle into the earth underneath. Hands trembling as he pours the remaining bottle of whiskey, a deep guttural growl coming from his already scratchy throat. "Rest easy, friend. We knew wot' we signed up fa' wen we picked up da' cowl n' became ferrymen. I swear unto thee ta' be killin as maneh wigs before I meet ya on da' flip side.." "No mercy to da' wigs..." The Grunt of Stone Tower could be heard uttering such; soft as a whisper during this dreary night as he lumbers home drunkenly in an entranced haze. Edited December 17, 2021 by hiiampal 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Morigung-oog 2284 Share Posted December 17, 2021 An elf, far away, sharpened her blighted steel blade with gritted teeth. She’d come far in the past few years, her finery abandoned for armor and a gambeson and her elaborate braid replaced with a plain ponytail. She not yet knew of her friend’s demise, but news would surely reach her; it always did. And when that time comes, It will become personal. 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shmeepicus 3942 Share Posted December 17, 2021 Ivan watched as his sister removed the man's head clean from his shoulders. "And so it goes.. mercy given to a man, part of a group that shows none, robbing citizens unarmed as they make way to our city. Nie longer, I say." The young heir commented, a profound respect developed for the man as he held steadfast in his last moments, a respect that he shared for a good amount of the Ferrymen. A capable man, who had shown courage in his last breaths drawn. 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tulan 443 Share Posted December 17, 2021 "More Orenians should come to realize the Empire is not their Emperor and Empress, the Empire may endure long after their foul bodies are food for worms." Sigmar Baruch sighed, pondering greatly why anyone would follow such cruel overlords to begin with, he came to the conclusion it must be blind ignorance. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
monkeypoacher 6993 Share Posted December 17, 2021 10 hours ago, Moribundity said: An elf, far away, sharpened her blighted steel blade with gritted teeth. She’d come far in the past few years, her finery abandoned for armor and a gambeson and her elaborate braid replaced with a plain ponytail. She not yet knew of her friend’s demise, but news would surely reach her; it always did. And when that time comes, It will become personal. An Orenian soldier looks up at his pinup of Vexalia Lothryne (an antique from the War of Two Emperors) and sighs, smiling longingly. 3 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
budaq 472 Share Posted December 18, 2021 Felix Mareno folded his right hand into a fist "I'll find the Imperial Bastard that did it" Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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