Jump to content

PRIMA AUREA BULLA BURGUNDIA

 Share


Recommended Posts

"Nice job Valentin," says Valentina.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Father Lucien read the missive whilst his daughter slept in his arms. He seemed pleased at the Church's restoration. 

Link to post
Share on other sites

10 minutes ago, Nectorist said:

VENERABLE ADALIA OF THE PETRA
Born in the year 1966 IST and reigned as Queen of the Petra from 1977 IST until her repose in 2006 IST. Made venerable chiefly for her pious conduct during the Struggle for the Heartlands, reciprocating the efforts of the Holy Mother Church to bring that conflict to a peaceful conclusion during a tumultuous time when others were eager for needless violence, as well as demonstrating general piety throughout her life.

A friend of the once-Queen smiled from the Skies. A veneration well earned.

Link to post
Share on other sites

The Magister Artifai, Iudas Cardinal Numenost, prayed for the strength of the boy-Pontiff, prayed for his own iniquities to be forgiven, and prayed for clarity and guidance within his duties, and prayed most of all for each member of his diocese.
"As GOD Wills."


image.thumb.png.631047d9e4e56da3009f4f58596e87f4.png

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Onto a better future for the Church, hopefully, our Lord willing,"

Mused a certain Godfrey. Being himself carefully optimistic about the way things had worked out. 

"Though there is much work to be done still until such can be said for certain.. Hrm.."

He concluded. His first order of business in that regard being to spread copies of the Golden Bull around his own diocese.

Link to post
Share on other sites

The years of the Dawnmade Queen were far from perfect. They were far from easy. But the crown had worn heavy on the small head of an eleven-year-old girl, burning into her skull for twenty-nine years. Through it all, she had faith. She had prayed, oh, how she had prayed. The passage of her mother to the Skies, the safety of her people, that she would live just one more day to see her children grow. God, in His glory, had granted her all but one of those things.

 

But that was alright. Because when the time came, the Templar-Queen held no fear of death. Regret, yes, always regret, but no fear. For her sons, her daughter, oh, her precious husband- They would live. They would live, and that was all she could want.

 

And as she lay dying, from the same illness that took the Dame Queen Catherine, Adalia had prayed. Prayed for the Petra, and for her family. For her children, the children they would have, the children they would have.

 

Petra still stood. Despite it all. And as a songbird flew across the river, the once-Queen of the River knew that everything was now alright. Because God, in His glory, was good.

Link to post
Share on other sites

"I will undertake the penance, Your Holiness," The Emperor bowed his head towards Caius II, and prepared for the journey. It seems he had acknowledged the church as his spiritual guidance once again.

Link to post
Share on other sites

25 minutes ago, Nectorist said:

VENERABLE ADALIA OF THE PETRA
Born in the year 1966 IST and reigned as Queen of the Petra from 1977 IST until her repose in 2006 IST. Made venerable chiefly for her pious conduct during the Struggle for the Heartlands, reciprocating the efforts of the Holy Mother Church to bring that conflict to a peaceful conclusion during a tumultuous time when others were eager for needless violence, as well as demonstrating general piety throughout her life.

Somewhere a goblin, currently witnessing the results of the peaceful conclusion tweaks:
"YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE! IT WAS SAID YOU WOULD DESTROY THEM, NOT JOIN THEM! BRING BALANCE TO THE HEARTLANDS, NOT LEAVE IT IN DARKNESS! YOU WERE MY QUEEN! I LOVED YOU!"

Link to post
Share on other sites

Sir Therin made his way down to the Garden of Giants within the walls of Riviènse after reading the bull. He sat in quiet reflection, attempting to recall memories of what his mother was like while fumbling with a rock in his hands.

 

"How wonderful it is to see you mentioned again" he said while reflecting. 

 

The stone had letters 'A of V' etched onto them, and was one of several he carried with him since leaving Aevos. 

 

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Bron looked over the new documents quietly. Then his black eyed gaze stopped at section IX.
"..whom do ea speak to about this? To ensure eam niet smited on sight.." He muttered, setting the paper down. "At least the new pontiff appears open minded...perhaps ea may find peace under his decrees.." 

Link to post
Share on other sites

 

image.thumb.png.9e42699c8330776e01686cc868720932.png         

。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。

 

╔═══━━—–━─── • ───━—----–━═══╗

𒆜 

 

If you are a DREAMER come in

 

If you are a DREAMER, a WISHER, a LIAR

 

A HOPER, a PRAY-ER, a MAGIC-BEAN-BUYER

 

If you’re a PRETENDER come sit by my fire

 

For we have some flax golden TALES to spin

 

COME IN!

 

COME IN!

 

𒆜

╚═══━━—–━─── • ───━━—–━═══╝

Invitation by Shel Silverstein

 

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆

┆ ┆  ࣪ ˖☆ ࣪⭑┆ ݁˖ .☆ . ݁ ˖ 

☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚  ⊹ ࣪

   ࣪ ˖⋆˚★ ₊ ⊹   ࣪˖ ࣪ ₊  ࣪ ˖ 

. ݁ ⊹ ࣪ ˖    ࣪ ˖

  .  ݁     ݁

  . 

image.thumb.jpeg.8f5c647406ddc1c41c7c4529cd8e6b05.jpeg

Art by Bilques Evely

 

⋆。°✩ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ✩°。⋆

.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.

。・゚゚・               ・゚゚・。

 

____________________________________________˚₊· ͟͟͞͞↠❤

 

˚₊‧꒰ა T H E    C A L L  ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

❤ ͟͟͞↞˚₊·____________________________________________

 

Whencefore did the lilypads go? The ones so tall, the sun could kiss them? 

Where are the beasts that roamed the roads? That brought awe to those that saw them?

What year did the drums cease their pounding? Did my people go and follow them? 

What year did laughter turn to fading? Did the bards of old capture them?



 

CORANN DAEVEAR. Last of his name. Last of his clan. And bored out of his mind.
A mali’ker who decided to have a bit of FUN. Books to entertain.
To provide an ESCAPE from the drudgery that had become the everyday. 

Fantastical mysteries and unbelievable tales. Murders. Mayhem.

Betrayals. Friendship. All wrapped up with a romantic bow. 

 

Then it became more. A proper escape. A means to a quiet life. 

A way of connecting to other bards, writers, and more.
Where had the magic gone? It was there. In their art. 

 

Where could those scorned people of the world turn? 

There. To the arts. 



 

╔═══━━—–━─── • ───━—----–━═══╗

𒆜 

 

All the words that I gather,

 

And all the words that I write, 

 

Must spread out their wings untiring,

 

And never rest in their flight,

 

Till they come where your sad, sad

 

heart is,

 

And sing to you in the night,

 

Beyond where the waters are moving,

 

Storm darkened or starry bright.

 

𒆜

╚═══━━—–━─── • ───━━—–━═══╝

Where My Books Go by W.B. Yeats

 

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆

┆ ┆  ࣪ ˖☆ ࣪⭑┆ ݁˖ .☆ . ݁ ˖ 

☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚  ⊹ ࣪

   ࣪ ˖⋆˚★ ₊ ⊹   ࣪˖ ࣪ ₊  ࣪ ˖ 

. ݁ ⊹ ࣪ ˖    ࣪ ˖

  .  ݁     ݁

  . 

 

____________________________________________˚₊· ͟͟͞͞↠❤

 

˚₊‧꒰ა T H E   F A L L  ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

❤ ͟͟͞↞˚₊·____________________________________________

 

CORANN DAEVEAR. Last of his name. Last of his clan.
And in desperate need of repairing his reputation. No one needed reminding
that the humans could be cruel and flippant. A past he had worked to recover from
had been thrown in his face once more. Did he pass the test? Yes.
Did the investigation find anything? No. Was he still exiled and claimed guilty? But of course.
Yet plans were in the works. The clearing of his name, once and for all. 

Then he could retire at last and find peace in writing his novels. 

 

A missive was placed in the hands of Corann Daevear. Famed romance author. And the reason romance
novels were banned. 

 

“....Shit.” 

 

The mali’ker didn’t much care regarding the other laws though the one regarding cursed children took his attention for longer than a moment. Romance novels… affecting the mind… corrupting the people….
One would think his quill had the power to craft something more addicting than drugs and more damning than a warlock’s curse. If he had such power, he would sway those in charge to properly read his novels. 

To see the fun in it all. The entertainment that was desperately needed. 

That in order for people to learn to live, they needed something to get them through to the next day.

What was next? Banning all bards? 

 

Likely. 








--
OOC

The post formatting is inspired by these lovely people. You should check them out!
 

 

Edited by Anonymous_Rando
Link to post
Share on other sites

As a certain gobliness took a break from the endless cataloguing of books in the Grand Library, OmNom would notice the bill tucked away within the donation bin to read over. Reaching a certain section about books however would raise a brow of confusion as she spoke to herself amongst the empty halls, "..Whu hurt you tu kanzel lub in da yeerz ob lub....?"

Link to post
Share on other sites

Neasa Anastasia O'Rourke looks happily unto the Beatification of her namesake ancestor, Anastasia! She holds the parchment close in a hug, pausing the cleaning of the monastery to read.

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Crimson or vermillion, Eminence? She is wondering," the acolyte inquires, parenting over letters and purchase requests. "Ouu.. uhhh, vermilion. It matters little, my child, it is but a colour," Lothaire replies. His gaze is out the window, beyond stained panes. A second or so later, it returns to the paper before him. "I know they do not all.. errr.. agree with my interpretations," he mumbles. "Pardon, Eminence?" A quill, heavy with ink, scratches paper. "Errr... how does 'is not to police the flock on matters of Sigismund or other such sectarian business' sound, John?"  

Link to post
Share on other sites

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.



×
×
  • Create New...