[Rp] Regarding Your Lovely Extension, Oren

[Volutional 935]

A man with a bloodied and worn uniform walks along the wall with all the posters nailed to it, followed by several footmen splashing vodka over the papers. He sighs deeply as he turns, seeing the soaked writing and sniffing the lingering sent of strong liquor, he raises one hand and opens it up, muttering a few inaudible words as his fingers tremble, soon after, a flamboyant wisp of orange flame shoots out of his palm, burning the papers to soot and making them illegible.

 

He looks back at the blackened wall a moment, pulling his gloves back on and muttering.

 

"They never learn."

 

Upon the burning of the one poster, as previously warned, the pre-prepared hundred now fill it's place. This time, they litter the entirety of the wall, inside and out. Each one hand written, and each one with a similar message. But all marked with the one symbol;

 

 

The night shall weigh heavily upon thee

To depths unknown, and limits untold

And when the screams hence cease

All that you know will be covered in your blood

[Sultan 3953]

((The following is RP i had with some workers of the "Wall"))

 

((Why i am here and what i wish to do))

 

 

((Me being promised a commanding officer instead getting the same person only he now has grand marshal infront of his name))

 

James grimson walks away saying

"They must take all of malinor for fools"

 

((Honestly you do not have a sense of humor if you did not find that funny lol))

 

News reaches the Emperor about these poster, he says ''Thomas is the best adopted son'' as he laughs. He tilts his head at one of his ''councilmen still I am mad at him for not getting my permeation, make sure the laymen watch this checkpoint we well see if it is of what they claim it is hopefully it is orderly.''

[Stag 3234]

*Iatrilemar recalls a recent event with one of the guards who couldn't even keep up with him in a brawl. He thinks to himself about how ill trained the roses must be, sending their weakest to stand guard. Iatrilemar laughs to himself having enjoyed the previous encounter.*

[Warwick 12]

Aureas glances over the poster, slight skepticism being the only emotion visible on his face.

 

"Good thing we put the unoathed and footmen on the walls."

[Volutional 935]

The owner of the poster looks upon the scene, a grin upon her face, her spiked helmet, covered by her thick black hood, weighing on her head. Distance is great enough for her to conceal herself on the cliff side, silent as a mouse and quick as a fish, she waits and listens.

 

"Foolish are they to believe such to be true. Let Malinor burn, it shall be a good thing. But I do hope in the end they realize that their forces were pushed into a neighboring nation all because of a damned wall. To think that I, red and furious, would march single handed into their castles and traps? I would then be the fool.

 

​But to deceive and to conjure, I would be so bold as to say I am clever. For now I can observe as my greatest hatred in this world is now crushed with sweet content. Burned, annihilated. But to be forgiven for my deceptive ways I would then have to be. For the Human's power can stretch only so far to my borders, my walls, and my people. Whom I care little about anyway. But it is mine, which is the point.

 

For Malinor to be crushed, I am to involve myself with the smallest of movements. A simple poster, threats, and mists of suspicious have now been my power here, but in the future a new face and a new colour shall follow in my wake.

 

I am still destruction incarnate, to them. To myself, and to the gods. But I do not trust that these goals are just mine, so I shall sit and watch as they unfold in my sight."

 

Of course, she wouldn't say this to anybody, she merely thought it. And it changes nothing, for nobody heard it. So deceived, they should stay.

[Ford 1996]

Ford peruses the posters, especially noting the symbol below the lettering. He takes a step back to get a good view of all the posters hung up on the wall, his visage grim. As he continues walking on, he keeps looking up to the many notes. breathing heavily. He quickly stops near the middle of all the papers and places his hands behind his back, cupping them as they're held together. Ford grins as he looks up and shakes his head, speaking to himself,  "They can complain all they want and nothing shall be done about it, but that realization has never crossed their thick skulls. It amazes me that even though they know what the Empire is capable of, yet they seem to ignore that fact. The fact that we could crush them like bugs. These edgy fuckers will get what's coming to them very soon." Ford would usually not say something so aggressive, but after enough experience with the "Knife-ears" over the past years, his anger has grown into actual hatred. He quickly turns from the posters and walks away, attempting to keep his composure and not punch the damn wall.

[Stevie 1598]

The morning.

 

Thomas looks to the posters littered along the wall. He strolls carefully along as several Footman tear them down, neatly stacking the piles in their hands. Outside the Checkpoint's walls, where stumps and destroyed growth from the destruction of the nearby forests are seen, lies another eyesore: the several high stacked bodies of Elves. Each Elf lies dead, motionless. Flies have begun to fester and eat out their rotting corpses, and every ear clipped of their points. Each Elven corpse is pulled away from the pile by the working Footman, pulling them back to the Checkpoint's exterior wall and posting them up by pikes and stakes. Their bodies are suspended like scarecrows, and on each dead Elf the posters of their retaliation, of their defiance, are nailed onto their bodies. Thomas stands calmly on the ramparts of the low wall, watching as the deed is done. The montonous sound of hammer and nail the only sound to pierce the cold, misty morning.

 

They may make threats, but the Rose takes action.

[Volutional 935]

Idriel Nightscar grins from afar, her plan having succeeded. "Long burn Malinor."

[Braxis 813]

((Honestly you do not have a sense of humor if you did not find that funny lol))

 

News reaches the Emperor about these poster, he says ''Thomas is the best adopted son'' as he laughs. He tilts his head at one of his ''councilmen still I am mad at him for not getting my permeation, make sure the laymen watch this checkpoint we well see if it is of what they claim it is hopefully it is orderly.''

Uthor holds his postion by the Throne his hand resting upon his Zweihander at his side as he looks to the servant bringing him one of the posters as the emperor has one of his other servants read to him he speaks. Once he is doing laughing and talking to to Uthor and the other Councilmen uthor simple nods as he waits to speak. Once the Emperor is done he does so. "Tis is rather foolish they finished this checkpoint after ye have told 'em to stop. But it will hopefully be a good military outpost in that area on the elven border, and it has stopped bandit activity greatly as of late. But I raise a brow on who ever has made this poster, Have they not see oren's might in Kalos and Elsyium? We were seperated and spread out then, and our numbers were 55,000 [[55 people]] In our Armies, And every major House has at least 10,000 Banners [10]  But will take time to muster but if ye rally the sheilds, roses, banners, and the Lion knights and Sariants Our numbers may have been doubled with our united strenght once again. But only time will tell once we enter war. And I wonder how much of a twit this author is, we have one of the strongest miltiary's in Anthos and we hold many secerts of our might still, only to be revealed when they push us to far. As we did with our Miltiary in Asulon, I would bet if this poster would try to act even if they had magic, so does Oren, we would send Mages and an Army of massive to stop if they enroach on our land, and who ever claims this to be an expansion is a ****, that has been our lands since the Human scouts and builders were sent here by the Imperial Majesty, It seems the other scouts of other nations were just blind." He finishes his half rant and half informational addtion to the people and fellow councilmen in the Throne room shrugging as he goes to be quiet

[Lord_Sauron_ 43]

*Vanir Laefien grins with malice as he sees the happenings.  Though a Mali, he cannot help but want Malinor and all it currently represents to burn.*

"Fools, all of them.  They will soon learn their mistake... The council shall be taught their mistakes by fire and steel, and absolved by the flames of their pyres.  As Oren drives a spike into the heart of the Mali, they shall be split and shattered.  The old regime shall fall, broken beyond repair... The Mali shall scatter from the might of Oren... Only then can a new order arise.  A coalition of Mali so strong and so united by oppression that they can withstand the trials of Oren and all others who would threaten.  These times call for drastic measures...
Soon.  Soon shall it be done, and soon can the Mali begin to rise once more... Free of the taint of bureaucracy and free from the shards of prejudice.  The Mali'ker and the Mali'ame shall be united with the Mali'aheral that are smart enough to overcome their hate and step out of the inferno that is the fury of the Valah.  A new system must at last be created... A triumvirate, not a council.  Three there shall be, one of the blessed, one of the night, and one of the forest.  Only then can we rise out of ashes, a Phoenix of fire and the dawn of a New Age! The age of the Mali, the age where we dictate our terms!
No more will our leaders cower before the might of others who seek to take advantage of the might of Malinor!
I shall work towards this end... Even if it costs me my honor... or my life.  I will see a new future forged of blood and fire, so that true beauty and lasting harmony can emerge from the chaos."

*Vanir cackles softly, mulling over his thoughts.  Organizing them, he begins to think upon how he could best serve as an instigator to this plan.  One thing troubles him, however... The goal of the Mistress of Night, as he has begun to call her.*
 

[Kanrath 190]

*From a high hill, hidden by brush and the darkness of night, the half-elf Tenshar watches the barricade and checkpoint through a spyglass. Slowly adjusting his dark grey cloak he settles in to watch the wall as the rain continues to fall, only kept dry by the heavy cloak which had been treated with a mix of animal fat and wax for waterproofing.

 

"Such foolishness, it would seem things are bound to repeat themselves. Mind you a wall built by soldiers and not by masons and architects is not something one should fear, I doubt it will last a year in these rains, much less a shot from a catapult or trebuchet.....In the end though I care little who wins I have no love for either nation as they are now, full of fools and those who support such fools and the notion that one race can somehow be superior to another."

 

*The long time engineer and survivor continues to observe over the next few days taking account of solder positions, and weaknesses in the wall that would be apparent to someone with years of experience as an architect for Alras. On the third day he leaves, heading back to his house in the wilds to await the spark that brings war once more to the lands*

[Esterlen 4499]

The Lord Secretary stepped forward to his master's side at the ramparts, seemingly out of the darkness. Hadrien de Sarkozy, compared to Thomas Chivay, was not an imposing man. Relatively thin and short, with dour and clerical clothing, he was the epitome of a statesman and an administrator - his recently appointed office he had taken duly with the utmost enthusiasm (As well as a thick golden chain of rank) and begun his work as soon as possible.

 

 

Watching the corpses be hoisted up by the working footmen, he gave a slight frown of distaste at the sight of the dirty work. Nevertheless, it painted a fine example. "Lordship. I see you've taken my advice on our propaganda matter?"