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Florian had passed the cell on occasion, watching the imprisoned writhe as he struggled to fight off the influences so graciously given to him. Each time, with the lightest chuckle. "He'll come to thrive, in it all. . ." A murmur passed beneath his breath as that final visit drew closer. "Soon."

This cell's chambers had ghostly echoes from screams long gone. But this time it got filled with new ones from another that found himself stuck there. The Mali'aheral's body was already beaten down to a pulp as he laid on his side upon the stone cold ground that night. Desimir hugged tightly the only thing he ever could, himself. His body writhed, twitched, and shook uncontrollably with pain he was failing to contain. His head beaded with icey-hot sweat. His mind kept going in and out of consciences. He could barely comprehend what was happening to him right now as his mind only kept focusing on his past trauma and experiences. The following is but only a peek into his thoughts, cries, and pains during his consciousness and the nightmares of his unconsciousness: I̵̢̝̬͈̞̿͊͗̐̾'̸̰͈̰̞̬̈͌̐̎͆v̷̲͙̜̻̠̀̋͆͝͝ɘ̴̛̠̫̻̻̋̉́̕ͅ ̵̬͇̝̼́͂̏͋̓ͅɒ̶͉̘̙̦̖̐̅͋̀͒l̸̲͖̣̗͔̎̆͂̈́̾w̵͈̦̩̩̎̀̀̈́̊ͅɒ̷̘̳̙̺̮͒͛̊̽̒γ̶͍̳̼̹̜̓͋́̚͝ƨ̷̫͖̗̪̙͛͑́͘͠ ̷͓̪̮̰̟̈͛͛͆̽d̵͈̮̻̠̙̋̉̒̍̏ɘ̸͚͇͍̣̂̎̔̈̐͜ɘ̷̡̪̦̖̱̒͂́̒͒n̴͔͉͙̳͎͑͌͛͆͠ ̴̨̬̗͎̫̓̾̐̒͠Ɉ̴̢͖͎̙͈̀̐́̂͝ʜ̸̯̺̖̘̈̋̑̂̽͜ɘ̴̧͖̥̪̉̇̈͌̋͜ ̶̛̪̺̥͙̉̔͑̕͜ weakest ɒ̴͔͍̘̞͚͂̄͒̔͝n̴̥̰̭͙̘̍̋̓͆̄b̴̠̟͔̻̝̈̐̇̋͘ ̴̛̤̺̜̮̈́͌͐̒͜I̸̞̘͓̿͌́̀͝ͅͅ ̸̟̜̞̭̖̈́̍̀̊̽ʜ̷̛̦̰͙̯̞͗͋̌͘ɒ̵͈̱̹̹̞̾̓͑̈͠v̵̺̺̳̖͔̈́̀́͂͝ɘ̴̨̡͎͖͕͋́͋̈̊ ̴̧͍̬͉̣̓̀̒̉̚d̵͔͚̳͇̩̓̽̓͆͘ɘ̵͔͉͉͙̟̍͋̌̕͘ɘ̸̰̞͈̖̹̇̎̍͝͝n̷͉͇̻̮̦̿̊̾͆͝ ̶̯̠̣͙͙̄̂̓͆͝ mocked ̵̨͔͚̳̦̋̐͛̀̚ʇ̷̡̤̣̺̠̌͑̈́̒̕ỏ̷̺̲̞̞̟͛̐̿͘ɿ̵̠̹̰̣͊̓̾̃̕ͅ ̷̧̝̳͖̼̐́̀̚͝i̴͔͕̤͓̰͆̿̐̎͝Ɉ̴̣̤̙͇̜͐͋͌̇̆ ̵̠̺̲͈͉̊̈̊͐̍ɒ̸̰̬̞͎̤́̄̀͆͝Ɉ̸̡̛̙̖͈̘̈́̐͛̚ ̷͇͕̩̮̈́̓̈́̊͜͝ɘ̸̧̖͍͕̤̄̀̀͊̓v̶̬̞͍͚̱̋̾̈́̇̚ɘ̴̢̤̙̦̗̋̑͑́͘ɿ̴͚̳̪͋̆̈͆͜͝ͅγ̶̩̹̤̙̭̈́̇̔̏͝ ̴̢̢̤̪̮́͑́̀͠Ɉ̸̧̧̠̮̓̑̉̇̃ͅυ̴̡̛̝̞͖̪̾̄̒͠ɿ̶̠̥̫̠̈̌̅͗͜͝n̵̨̟̬̥̝̐͂̒̈́͘.̵̡̤̟̲̲̔̒̋̋́ ̵͚͙̹̤͇̋̒̚͘̕ઘ̶̛̼͙̜͕̒͊̊̒͜υ̵̻̦̱̱͍̊̇̊̇͝Ɉ̶̹̥͙͇̼͒͐̋̔̚ ̶̺̝̗̦͉͌́͛̚̕Į̸̞̪̗̂̽̎̂͝ͅ ̴̡̛̠̗̠̯̾̔̌̚ still try ̴̢̥͚͉̠̐͑̈̚͝ɒ̸̠͉̘̠̝̃̐̒̀͐ƨ̷̝͍͓̲̥̊̔̆̓̓ ̸̛͓̻̺̪͇̌͊̈́̊ʜ̶̢̙͈̪̝͂͆͌̈́̒ɒ̶̡̫̯̱̬́̽̂͛̍ɿ̴̧̻̲̣̬̎̏̀́̾b̷̪͇̥̥͎̎̔̎̀̏ ̷̟̤̯͕̓́̅̅̕ͅɒ̸̮̩̤̃̒̀̑̂ͅͅƨ̵̟̙̞͓̈́́̔̐͛͜ ̴̢̘̲͔̼̓͐͗́̕I̷̺͚̜̬͚̓̃̏̓̔ ̶̖̬̦̦͎̈́́̽̆͝ɔ̸͔̱̜͓͔̽̂͂̕̚ɒ̴̨̺̘̼̗̊̒͋̀͠n̴̯̝̘̝͒̑̍͒͛ͅ.̷̱͖̺̻̝̇̿̒̈̊ ̴̥̱̭̱̈̆̇̽̉͜I̸̧̟̟̫͓͊͋̏̂̇ ̵̝̥͍̠̟́̂̇͒̚w̵̧̢͉͖̪͛̓̉͒̈́ɒ̵͉͚͙̭͍̍̆̃́̿ņ̸̡̥͈͈̆̾̊͗͂Ɉ̴͔͔̜̹̫̍̂̊͗̒ɘ̸̲̲̼̘̤̍̈̄̍̆b̴̙̹̼̬̣͌̃̀͗̕ ̸̛͍̗̝̟̱̉͆̍͊Ɉ̸̢̖̩̹̥̔̇͑͋͠õ̸͇̼̬̤̻͑͛́̔ ̴͈̭̠̟̰̐̋̄̈́͝d̵̩̩̲͚̟͋̽͑̚͝ɘ̸̨̘͓̝̼̍͗͋̀͝ ̷̛͍͉͇̳̉̈͊͋ͅƨ̷̢̦̥͇̻̾͋̊̍̉Ɉ̵̭̪̩̻͖̿͒̈́̋͂ɿ̷̧̬̝̝͈̃̓͗̔̕o̵̩̥͉̯̟̊̈͂̀̊n̶̡̛̥̩̥̅̏͛̉ͅϱ̸͖̫͇̤͑̏͊̐̚ͅɘ̴̺̰̻̖̥̾̅̅̚̚ɿ̸̩̤̤͕̹̍̎̾̅́.̸̠͓̘͓̥͐̑͋̓̌ ̸̝̯̥͙̹͒̎̑͊̚I̸̲̳̠͖̫͛̈͗͆͝ ̴̧̛͔̝̬̖͊̐̔̓Ɉ̶̟̪̪̰̝̑̃̐̕͝ɿ̶̨̼̮̥̲̀̋͂͗͒į̵̣̗̬̜̓͂́̈͊ɘ̸̣͍̼̯̝̈́̔̑͐̑ḅ̴̥̯̙̤̇̈́̑̄͝,̵̢̦̮̣̬͌̆̔̀̀ ̵̛̣̩̻̞̦͒̒͋̕ḑ̷̪̠̜̫́̋͛͊͘υ̵͍̩͙͎̻͋͑͗̐̾Ɉ̸̢̲͎͙̳̍͒̃̅͌ ̷̛̜̩̖̣͕͊̿͂͆Ĭ̶͍̰̣͙̪̑̿͘͠ ̷̨͚͖͔̗̽̐͗̄͘n̴̡̮̻̖͍̓̇͒̿̎ɘ̵̳͇̬͈̘͗͂͑̋͂v̸̛͚̩̰̫̦̅̃͘͠ɘ̴̛͈̟͙̰̝̃̓͝͝ɿ̴̻̫̪̝̞́̒̍̕̚ ̴̨̨͍͖͕̆͐̄̏̆ɔ̶̬̹͇̟̐̾̌͋͛͜o̸͈̼̠̟͖͑͛̓͂̀υ̸͕̭̱̰̟̃̀̋͒͘l̷̢̖͚͎̄̓̓̓̓͜b̴̡̘̬̜͕̿̇̄̏̕.̵̧̛̞͓̟̯̄̀͆͋ ̶̡̡̥͎̬̎̆̽̉̈́I̷̳͇̜̼̣͆͒͂̈͝ ̸̥̻͇̘̞̒̾̉͑͠ϱ̸͚̬̝̰̈́̈́́̆͠ͅɘ̴̧͎̠̞̗͂̋͛̔̚Ɉ̵̡͙̝̥͋͐̇̀́͜ ̵̨̧̯̣̯͗̔͋͋̕i̶̘͓̭͚̳͑̋̂̊͆Ɉ̴̞̗͍̘̫̀́̾̅͌.̸͖̱̬̣̱͊̎̏̌̚ ̶̨͇̝̖̗̉̎̈́̀͘Ǐ̵̛̞͓͕̼͓̊̓͠ ̴̳̣͔͖͕͐͋̏͆̈ʇ̷̡̪̜̝̿̅̿̏̕͜ǫ̸͓̗̱̗̅͂̑̽́υ̵̯̼͉̣͓̂̽̑̌͒ϱ̶̭͓̫͙̓̔͊̈́̅ͅʜ̴̞͔̘̤̐̂̃̚͜͠Ɉ̸̧͖͔̻͈̄̎̎̀͠ ̴̹̜̭̘̩̾̇͑̔̿Ɉ̷̢̨͔̮͈̏̂̊̑͝o̶͍͎͚̙̪͌͋̓͐͠ō̷̡̜͕̤͉̏̉͛̂Ɉ̵̨̪͖͎̒̔̅͑̀ͅʜ̵̟̱͍͚̦̆͒͋̈́̂ ̶̢̻̹͚͍͊̉̄̕̚ɒ̵̰͔̟̘̜̔̌̓͊̎ṇ̸̯̖̱̳͊͌̆̐͑b̷̨̨̡̦͚͑̓͗̆̓ ̶̧̪̼̺̒́̀̀̄͜n̵̢̰̳̰̾̊̀̈́̂ͅɒ̴̛̫̖͈̙̠͛̌̅̂i̵͇̞̹͍̎̌͐̐̕ͅl̴̞̗̫̹̪̄̈̍͋́ ̸̧̡͍̞̄̓̇̃̉͜Ɉ̷̧͇̠͕͍͋̓̿͠͠ŏ̸̡̫̣̻̪̊͛̄͝ ̷̨̗̱͈̬̿̉̄̌͘ earn my keep ,̸̨͍̞̰͙̑̓̄̽́ ̶̭̭̮̳̻͐͗̈͗͠ɒ̷̠̣͚̮̾̽͗̀̒ͅn̸̫͙̲͇̫̈̂̎̾̉b̴̧̻̜̺̩̂̔́̂́ ̴̦͇̠͍̜̓̈̓́̚I̷̪̬̼̰͍̊͋̈́́͝ ̶̖͖͓̱͍͆͂̇̅̆ϱ̴̛̛̹͎̰̻̩̽́͊o̸̩̻͔̤̐̿̃̐̀͜Ɉ̶͖̰͖̲̥̌̓͒͌͠ ̴̢̯̜̥͓̋̈́́̈́̔Ɉ̷̠̮͕̞̙̈́͌̍̂̆ʜ̵̠̣̭͎̩́̎̌̃͝ȋ̶̱̞̲͖̥̄̿̋͠ƨ̴͙͈̺͙̥̐̇͆̅̓ ̵̻̣̪͍͓̀͐̍͠͝ʇ̸̢̱͙̖͓̀̏̔̅́ɒ̴̧͇̙̲̲̃̄̒͠͝ɿ̵̨͉̞̗̩̈́̏͆̿̐.̴̨̙͙̬̭̽̐̑͂̚ ̶̬̫̬͖̝́̇̋̇̓Ƨ̴͈͚̭̻̹̈́̿͂̊̐ȏ̴͚̳̫̫̯̇̏̀͊ ̵̢̟̼̜̻̒̈́̾̈́͛Ɉ̸͎͎̗͚̙͋̀̈́̋͗ʜ̵̛̼͉͍͖̈́̏͋̄͜ĩ̴̛̲̻͉̺̈́͊̚͜ƨ̶̪̲̝̞̙̈́͂̍̇̌.̷͍̤̗̦͚̊̈́͑̑͘.̷̣̩͈̪͙̂̏̓͂͝.̴̞̹͎̟̪̃̅̿̋̕ ̴̢̛̺̬̮̞̌͆̈͝*̶̡̝̼͚̣̿͗͌́̆*̷̮͚̠̱̺̀̑͂̓͘*̷̨̞͓̹͈̽͗̈́̚͝*̷̬͙͔̤̪̃̾̈̿͗,̸̬̲̲̣͈̊̑̑́̕ ̵̢̗̫͈̔̈̈́̈́̎͜*̴̨̨̩͚̟͗́͒̉̀*̷̧̯̰̫̫̒̈́͛̿̚*̷̥̦͔͚̥̍͒̆̋͝*̵͖̘͙̖̰̓̌̎̀͘!̷̙͉̟̪̟̈̆̈́̕͝ ̵̱̘͍͍̜̀̄̽͋͠Ț̷̨̰͎̣̒͐̅͠͝ʜ̴̢̨̣̘̜̀̈́̽̕͝i̶̢̜͍̼̠̓͛̾͊͠ƨ̵̢̙̩͍͍̈́͐͌͛͘ ̷͎͈̤̬͓̄̀̊̿̽i̷̝̗̹̦̮͒̃̇̓̕ƨ̸̞̮̬̼͉̆̽̅̑͝ ̶̛̦̭͔͚̉̾̓̚ͅd̵̨̥̣̭̖͛̾͛̕̚υ̸̢̣̥̩̝͑̓̒̕͝l̸͇̞̗͔͉͆̎̑̈́͘l̵̛̠̖̝͂̿͐̂͜͜ƨ̸̭̙̣̿̊̓̈̚͜ͅʜ̸̨̢̭̩̝̓̽̿͑͝ḯ̶̠̖̤̣̺̓̽̌͠Ɉ̷̙͇̣̦̈̇̑͛̆͜!̶͎̥͇̮͓̓͐̎͝͝ ̵̨̮̼̣̫̂̀͑́͝ઘ̷̢̡̨͔̰̈́͋̇͋̎υ̷̡̮̟̦̬̊̽̒̒̏l̸̖̻̣̹̯͑͊͆͝͠ļ̷̗̱̪̠̌̒͋͌̃ƨ̵̼̜͉̩̗̌̔́̑̂ʜ̷̰̳͓͖̗̈́̉̀͋͝i̶̡̧̟̜̲̔͗͒͆̚Ɉ̵̨̻͕̣̝̂̿́̉̈!̸̦͍̗͍͉̾̏̉̄̚ ̶̧̹̻͓̤̑̏̂̓͠O̶͎͚͓̣͐̽̋͋̕ͅʜ̵̧̢̝͕̞͗͒̇͐͘ ̸̛̳̭͚͔̺̌̎͛̔γ̷̻̥̝̩̅͒̅͐̓͜o̶͍͇̹̫͖̊̄͑͘͠ῦ̷̫̦̩̘̆͐̈́͝ͅ ̷̢̢̰̹̏͗͆̓̅ͅw̷̞͓̗̲͋̆́͋͜͠ɘ̷͔͉̖̮̱͋̄͒̌͆ɿ̷̡̭̮̯͓͒͊̅̏̕ɘ̷̮̳͓̻̓̆̀͗̊ͅ ̸̯̼͙̗̫̄͗̅̊͗q̴̢̬̦͓̲̈́́̍͂̽ɒ̵̧͉͕̗̘͂̈̓̏͠ƨ̷̛͖̥̺͉̬̈͊́̓Ɉ̷̼͎̘͎̼̉͛̉̕̚ ̸̡̖̻̦̺̌̓̂͐̏γ̸͈̜̤̜̓̓͂͆͝ͅo̶̱̗̼͙̣͛͌̈́͑͊υ̶͔͖͇͔̠̉̒̇́̀ɿ̵̢͓̙̱̂̒̾̚͜͠ ̶̥̰͎̝͇́͒̀̓̏l̸̢͈̼̤̉̓̿͛͋͜i̸̠͖͔͗̏̔͌͘͜ͅṁ̵̳̬̦͔̦͆͐̚͠i̴̼͚̤̘̠͂̿͠͠͝Ɉ̷̺̜̘̘͔̐̀̈̀̀,̸̡̩̪̺͋̐̌̚͝ͅ ̶̨͎̯͍͍̇̈́̓̇̚ʜ̸̝̪̯͕̍̒̀͂͜͝υ̶̬̭̟̩͔̑̏̈́̿͆ʜ̴̫̝̞̻̃̒̒͒̍͜?̴͇͈̞̗̦̄̄̓̄̍ ̵̛̖͈̩̞̫̇̈̚͝Y̵̩̼̗͇̺͗̔̿̚͝o̸͇̱̫͊̈́̍̀͜͝ͅυ̸̹̣̞̹̊̌͊̿͜͝ ̴͉̖͓̳̿͌̈́̈̊͜ẃ̷͇̼̞͖̍̇̏́͜ɘ̴͈̠̼̙̯̓̉̇̊̽ɿ̶̙̖̦͙̰͋̓̽̈́͝ɘ̵̬̭̱̻̑̈͊̓̈ͅ ̶̮̯͚͓̗̓͌͑͊͋m̸̺̬̠͇̥̓́͂͑͘ɒ̴̨̲̦̦̞́̍̚̕͠ʞ̴͉̱̯͈̤̃͌̽̀̄i̵͕̹͈̱͒̃̈̓̋͜n̶͍͇̠͉͍̂͌͛̒͝ϱ̴͕̳̪͓̲̈́̔̋̌̍ ̴̙̥̞̲̟̎̃͋͒͝ɘ̸̹̫̖̙̼̌̅̅̇̈́x̶̡̺͕̖̙̄̈́̈́͗̚ɔ̷̳͔̖͖̌͑̒́̐͜υ̶̭͕̦͙͓̾͛̀́̾ƨ̸̭̤̳͔̯́̋̾̅͒ɘ̴̯͙͇̮̑̃̀̇͝ͅƨ̷͖͖̦̪͎̔͛̅̐͝ ̵̲͖̪̞͍̾́̎̎̉ʇ̵̢̭̺̦̲̔̊̾̈́̒ó̴̡̦̱̫̹̽̓̈́̂ɿ̷̗̬̝̣̦́̆͊̆̕ ̴̧̣̠̯̰̊̓̓̎̏γ̶͔̮̙͙͆̽͋̃͘͜õ̴̢̮̠͉͍̆̀̀͐ὐ̸͙͓̩̗͖͒̀̈́̈́ɿ̶̬̤͉͎̠͊̆̒͆́ ̸̼̞͙̠͔̑̈́̉̀̓o̵̫̝̬̞̫͐͛̈́̎͠w̸͚̩̗̜̹̄͊́͗͝ń̵̖̤̙͒̅̀̋ͅͅ ̶̢̛̮͍̝̹̍́̐́ selfishness.̷̡̱̲̻͎̊̒̆̍̊ ̸͉̯̞̗̯̃͆̎̏͒T̴̡͉̬͚̦͋̓̆̋͝ʜ̷̡̲̟̦̾̎̿̐͠ͅɒ̵̩̺̠̳̇̌̅̈̊͜Ɉ̵̤͕̬͚͎͂́̒̄͠ ̵̧̢̧̫̠̇̽̈́͑͝ gratitude ̸̺̹͐̈́͐̍̈w̵̡̠͖͚͉͐̊͛̌̚ɒ̶̡̹̫̙̠́̍̓̓̀ƨ̵̺͖͇͎̦̏̓̀̌͝ ̶͙̘̜͇̼̒͆͑̚͝ɒ̸̢̯̬̯͕̈́͊͋́̊ƨ̸̧͍͕̥͔͂̊̈̃͠ɘ̸̨͉͓͖͍͒̓͆̓̕ṁ̴̘͉̻̭̊̓̈́̾͜q̶̛̞͖̜̀̂͒͠ͅͅɈ̸̳̫͓̖͇̈́̀̇̀͐γ̴̧͚̬͈̽̏̅̅͛ͅɒ̶̨̣̩̭̝̓͌̈́̏́ƨ̷̡͎̤̲͈̐͗͂́̚ ̵͔͙̺̯͓́̒͑̌̕m̷̘̳͇͖̗̆́̒͘͝γ̵̦̦̜̗͖̀̈́̏̅͝ ̶̨̬̺͎͉́̋̃̓̀w̷͎͕̼͉̤͊̉̾̔͝ɒ̸̧͈͍͖̩̓̆̀́͊l̵̪̰͇̟̦̓̈́̀̆̀l̴̢͇̭̣̯̓̇̈́́̍ɘ̶̡̣͖͕̖͒͆̋̉̀Ɉ̴͖̘͖̭̖̏͆͑͒̄.̸̦̟̻̙̓̈́̽̐͛͜ ̶͉͚͇̥̠̄̚̚͘͝⅃̶̢͚̞̹͆̍͆̋̄ͅɘ̴̙̘̞͓̃͊̃̍̊͜ɒ̷̺̳͔͖̱͛̃̎̕̕v̶̛͈̜̝͇͇̑̄̂̓ɘ̴̞̙̭̰̹̉͐̔̽̄ ̸̭̲͚̲̻̉̉̏̄͠i̵̯͔̦̻̬͊͗̋̾̚Ɉ̷̦̟̦̹̼̀́̂͑͝ ̵̡̟͈͙̟̈́̂͋̽͘Ɉ̵̧̪̥̯̫̄̓̓̑̎o̸̲̘̺͖̳͑́̾̽̇ ̶͙͇͚̫̯͒́̃̀̆ɒ̴͇͙̳̙͈̓̇͑̅̽ ̵̩̤͎̯͚̓̃́́̇ϱ̸̝̰͕̫̤͊̈́̑́͘ɘ̵͉̤͖̠̖́̾̎͋̚ǹ̵͕͍͚̬͈̂͂̌̊ύ̵͉̼̪͎̤̋͑̋͘į̸̪̥̲̽̆̄́̈́͜ņ̶̼̞̤̳̂͂̎͒͠ɘ̵̡̡̤̠̖̑̄͆̿̊ ̸̡͕̮͕̭̌̽̃̿͠q̷̹̫̪͍̑͒́̉̊͜i̵̧̠̼̞̘̇͐͑͐̕ɘ̷̳̺͔͔̹̄͗́̔̚ɔ̷̮̞͙̞̖̔̀̀̈̕ɘ̷̡̛̮̱͇̠͊͒́͛ ̴̡̛̼̻̠̭́̑͐͌o̷͔͉̦̙͕͊̾͌́̏ʇ̵̰̭̫̣̳̌͂̐̂̒ ̷̰̯̥̘̜̏͊̉͋͘Ɉ̸͔͕͉̜͔̑̊̊͂͝ɿ̴͉͉͚͛̇̐͘̚͜ͅɒ̵̢͈̫͑̇̏̎̚͜͜ƨ̴̪̰̭̙̞̌̇̀̄̀ʜ̶̤͉̱̼̪̀̔͋̍͘ ̸͖̠̗͖̟́͛͛̋͒Ɉ̷̢̥͎̮̣̽͌͂̑̚o̶̡̬̠̥̓̅͛̈̆ͅ ̶̨̣̻̗̝͌͛̍̽̅ use me ̸̨̨̤͓̹̾̅͋̍͝ɒ̴̧̤̻̯̓͑̽̍̽͜ṇ̷̢͕͉̘̆̎̉̈͛b̷̡̢̭̻̺̓̐̏̉͝ ̸̛͖̳̜͉̐̄̀̋͜Ɉ̸̢̝̘̥͓́͐̈́̑̽ʜ̵̰͈̯̬̫̀̾͋͌͠ɿ̶̘̠̲͈̌͊̔͂̀ͅo̸̢͔̖̣͖̒̾̊̈́͑ẃ̸̢̨̝͈̫͂̑̈̓ ̷̢̧̢̛̟̘̈̊͌̅m̷̞̱̝͈̓̊͑͠͝ͅɘ̶̹̼̤̘͉̀͋́̈́͝ ̶̺̳̮̞͍͊̄͒͑̕ɒ̶̖̩̹͖̟̄̌̃̇͋w̴̬̣͈̟̃̿̒̕͝ͅɒ̸̹̮̥̦̫̄̃̏̌̆γ̶̮͚͖̥̻͒̍̉̈́̀ ̸̛͙͉̺̜̺̈́̒̄̃ʇ̶̡̜͙͔̝̊̌̎̈́̕ǫ̶̳͉̰͙͛̓̆͆͠ɿ̵̛̹̟̫͙̱́̄͝͝ ̵̙͙̩͙͎͒̌̓̓͛ʜ̷̡̩̩͓̹̾̽́̐͠ḭ̵̢̻̤̒̔̄̀͌ͅƨ̵̯̦̘̻̼͂̉̂͗͝ ̸̝͉̙̼̲͌̋̽͐͝ benefit .̴̗̜͖͈̺̋͊̒͛̈́ ̸̫̰̜̺̣̆̂̇̉̓Ì̴̡̢̬̳̥̂̓̕͝ ̷̨̟̱̹̘́͊͌͊͊w̶̡̧̥͕̼̏͆͘͘̕ɒ̴̟̲͕͚͈̅̓̉̂͝n̸͔̫͈̠̭̅̆̏̍̿Ɉ̴̡̜̰̪̟̆͂̒̕͝ɘ̵͕̪̞̺͉́̂́͋̕b̴̢̭͙̗̫́͗̇͆̚ ̷̧͚͈̰̙͆̈̃̓͋ɒ̸̧̗̩̼̫̈́͑̀͐̕ ̶̨̧̥̼͎̿͌͗̚͝ familyɈ̷̛̦̲̖͚͖̿͌́͝ō̵̩͓̹̙̓͊͊̆͜ö̶̳̪̬̯̮́̅̃̋̚.̶̛̮͈̟͈̟̀̅́͝ ̵̱̰͖̘͖͂̊͂͝͝I̵̢̤͚̹̠͌̓̀̽̉ ̴̛̤͙͈͓͈̌̓̀̉w̵͎̲̫̱̗̿̐̿́̿ɒ̴͓͈̺̩̈͂͑̒͝ͅn̵͕̮̖͙̈̓̓̕͘ͅɈ̸̟͔̤͖̣̀̂͗͒͝ɘ̷̜̳̟̻̑̅͂̐͋͜b̸͓̜̼̣̓͗́́̈́͜ ̴̛͓͖̲̱̝̈̽̓͝ɒ̶̧̖͇̲̯́̆̄̈́̕ ̴̡͕͚̙̣̀̓̊͐̾ homeɈ̵̧͔̞̜͔͛̀̒̚̕o̸̞͇̤͈̥̓̐̓͗͝o̸̱̗̦͑͒̆͒͘͜͜!̸͖͚̳̮̆̓͛͂́ͅ ̶̡͍̝͉́͌͐̒͝ͅИ̸̨̨̼̮͉̓̈́̈́̿̌o̵̫͈͚͚͑͐̑̊͂ͅ.̶̢͚̠̙͇̄̏͗̊̚ ̵̨̨̜̫͕̓̏̆̔͆Į̶̛̹̩͎̞͗̿̀̈ ̶͉̰̤̲̜̒̍̒̅͑b̵̞̟̪̬͖̉̃̀͊͘o̷̰̭̟͎̎̿̂̈́͜͠ǹ̴̢̢̮͉̼͛̀͗̒'̷̝̣̘̱̯͆̍̒̈̈́Ɉ̵̝͔̫̤̬̄̏͌̎̈́ ̵̧͍̻̮̭̈́̀̈̚͠ẅ̸̧̹̲͓̫̂̉͌̕ɒ̸͕̹̹̱̩͂̓̿͐͝n̷͇̥͔̣̥̑͋̅̀̈Ɉ̵̡̡͕̥͓͛́͆̏̕ ̴̳̻̠̋̓̓̊͜͝ͅɈ̴̡̗̙͛͛͗̏̐͜ͅõ̵̢̺̩̗̯͛̈́͂̎ ̸̬̟̳̥̜͂̆̆̃̕ die.̸͈͔͇̱̤̔̈́͑̑͗ ̵͇͚̙̺̽̋̑̐̋ͅḪ̷̲͓͎̰̑͆͆̍̚o̷̢͈̲͉̍̈̊̏̔͜ŵ̶̧̯͈̦̮̊̀͊͝ ̸̗̻̬̫̀̀̏̍̔ͅɔ̵̛͎͔̹͙͖̂̇̉̈́o̷̞͓̙̼̜̊̄̿͘͝ὐ̶̨̢͚͙̻͋̒̌̌l̵̛̲̗̙̣̲̽̎̕͝b̴̛̺͎̼̺̤̀̈́̚͠ ̵͕̤͈̟͈̈́͗̌͗̏γ̶̨͎͓̙͖̿͐̀͌͘o̵̧̯̞̼̹͗͆́̚͝ΰ̶͓̲̗̬͎̀̄̕͝ ̵̡̳͓͕̗̅̀̇̀̾Ɉ̸̢͖̱͓̜̈́́̂̌͝ʜ̵̡͔̺̟̼̽̽̈̒͝ḯ̴̧̨̛̯̮̪͆̀̏ņ̶͈͉̮̥̍̅̒͠͝ʞ̶̢̢͖̣̝̂͋̋̚̚ ̵̨̙̘̬͓̽͋̍̔͘Ɉ̵͓͈̳͎̂̈́̋̊̈ͅʜ̷̤̳̦̼̂͋̈͑̕͜ɒ̵̛̻͕̤̫͕̿̎̀̎Ɉ̷̝̝͈͎̦̓̋̈̌͝?̵̧̢͕͍͕̽͌̂́͒ ̷̢̲͖̤̳̃̆̒̈͝Ỷ̴̨̖̯̘̺̿̃͛͒ṑ̸̺̯̳̝̅͠͠ͅυ̵̛̙͉͈̞͍̽̆̓͊ ̴̹̗̣͚͉̉͛̑̕͠ƨ̶͖̮̞̗̦̄̇̆̀͋Ɉ̴͉̩͉̙̉͆͂̄͝ͅυ̴̢̙̯̺͎̅̊͛͝͠q̸̲̙͈̥̀̑͛̃̕ͅi̴͍̮̼͚͎̿̀̇́͝b̷̧̢̫̄̂́̕͜͝ͅ ̴̦͔͙̳̌̊͒̕͝ͅʜ̷͖̖̩̦͓̄͐̇͛̊γ̸̨͔̞̫̤̔͂͗͂͘q̶̝̘͙̬̝̈́̈́̒̔̀ó̵̢̲̞̓͐́̚͜͜ɔ̴̨̨̥̩͍̆̆̎̚͝ɿ̶̢̘̘̱͚̿̿͐͂͝ḯ̵̲̭̘̮̠̓̇̌́Ɉ̶̜͚̹̼͈͂̄̈́́́ɘ̶̠̜̩̰̯͂̍̈́̇͆.̸̢̩̣̼̅͑̀̚̚ͅ [Headphones recommended for the best experience. Warning: May be disturbing to some listeners.]

"Bastions protecting the world? Laughable! The church contributes more than these self-acclaimed 'knights' of Xan." Malphas, a certified Zar'akal tells one of his cohorts.

Clover ruminated over the information for some time, coming to a conclusion. "I doubt this fella is anythin' more than a shithead bandit. He'll get his due soon enough."

"I feel like someone is trying to false flag, because there's no one in Ravenswood," commented Shugo Kato after he received the notice from the Rah'tuman citizen. He contemplates the actions and reasoning of the child assaulter believing there was something deeper to the whole affair.

Victor tucked at his sword-belt idly as he read the letter, but his eyes narrowed with a deep-stirred, parental anger. "Aye. Ravenswood indeed." He'd say with a spit. The Ranger would make sure to travel East-ward, and North, and keep his eyes peeled for manlets like himself.

AN OPEN LETTER to THE GRAND COUNCIL OF THE COVENANT OF MAN by HEADMASTER MARC GALBRAITH PRINTED BY THE ✠ IMPERIAL SOCIETY OF THE EXALTED HOREN ✠ The First Session of the Imperial Senate, Holy Orenian Empire, c. 1736. “And GOD Made Man Equal in All Things, To Share in the Bounties of His Creation And the Wisdom of the Word of His Prophets.” 2 Salvians 17:4-5 TO HIS EXCELLENCY, THE LORD PROTECTOR OF THE COVENANT OF MAN, @indiana105 Firstly, we would like to start penning these words by congratulating His Excellency the Lord Protector and the other members of the Grand Council on the formation of the Covenant of Man, a holy alliance composed of the Realms of our Canondom that shall certainly bring Human Unity and Prosperity to the Realms of Man. In that sense, on behalf of our Society, we would like to express our unwavering support to the Covenant of Man, for we find it to be an undeniable expression of pan-humanism in Mankind that shall certainly bring us all to glory. Secondly, we would also like to take our time to recognize the leadership of His Majesty the King of Hanseti-Ruska, Ivan VIII, as the first Lord Protector of the Covenant of Man. In that sense, on behalf of our Society, we would like to thank His Majesty for his leadership in this new chapter of the history of Man and would like to humbly hereby request His Majesty to schedule a meeting with our leader, the Society's Headmaster Marc Galbraith, to discuss the current state of humanity and our common path forward. Likewise, the Society's Headmaster shall gladly be willing to meet with any other leaders of the Covenant of Man if they so desire. Thirdly, we would like to petition to the Grand Council of the Covenant of Man to invite the other Canon Realms that are yet to join the Covenant of Man into this holy alliance, such as Reinmar, Númendil and Hyspia, for we believe that they are too part of the Tapestry of Man. In that sense, though, we would like to highlight that this is merely our recommendation, and that we shall fully respect and abide by the rulings of the Grand Council of the Covenant of Man on this matter. Together, we have the opportunity to unite and come together in order to achieve GOD’s Providence by creating a Covenant of Man that both charters the rights of our subjects and defers our own personal interests to that of the collective and the whole. Let us make it possible, for according to our ancestors, there is nothing that we cannot achieve when we are united and work together for the common good. THIS WE SUBMIT FOR THE FURTHERANCE OF HUMANITY, UPON THE DAY OF OUR LORD GOD, 10TH OF HOREN’S CALLING, 1973. Marc Galbraith, Headmaster of the Imperial Society of the Exalted Horen.

Liesbeth-Marie's eyebrows knit together as she read the note from her friend. "Are people such idiots to try such against children? Perhaps telling Rowena will do dobry, if this man was near Petra." She muttered to herself, shaking her head.

Bjorn, the Boreal druid read the letter, sat down upon the aviary, where many nests had gathered over the years. "Some men believe only god can judge them... I do not mind sending those men to him." Their utterance would be heard by no descendant, witnessed only by the pigeon that had delivered such a letter, perched upon their forearm.

[!] This short note would find itself in the arms of every Embered paladin one way or another. To us, brothers and sisters in our vocation to Xan. It is high time we discuss an important matter. A matter that at the end of this long road will cast us in the shade of defeat if not remedied. I call upon all those with the fire of the Lion in their souls and those they are tempering to hold His flame to meet in our shared keep in four Elven days. We are the bastions protecting the world. It is time that we reflect that. -Aurae of Arbi’a

The Minor God hears once again that Panda is being threatened, and this just won't do. The 'super ultra duper cool' role model decides it would be a good time to teach her how to actually defend herself, and so performs minor Iomancy to find her.

Akeketah Luceran neatly folds the letter and places it down on the table, maintaining a calm demeanor. "Worry niet, this miscreant will answer to the gods. Only cowards threaten the lives of children." she says to her daughter with a devilish smile. Mama bear has been released once more. Adelina Claire van Leuven opened the letter from her friend whom she has not seen for some time. Her eyebrows raise as she reads it over, a grimace forming on her face. "Why must adults be so annoying. Get a REAL job and leave ve children ALONE." she scoffs. With haste, she pulls out a parchment and quill to pen a response to the Luceran girl: My friend, Thank vy for informing me of this nasty being. Ea shall inform ve Brotherhood to be on the look for him. Us children must protect one another! Sincerely, Addie

[!] The Pharaoh polishes his Khopesh as he prepares to hunt the man who attempted to harm Panya-ha, one of Rah'tuma's most precious citizens. "The judgment of the Gods shall befall this one - no one runs athwart Amaunet's chosen." Atemu says as he prepares for the hunt.

The ghoul, "Todd", received this letter and began to grow an irritated face before grabbing his weaponry and his horse mounts. He began to journey after saying, "I'm comin' kid, don't worry."

༺═──────────────────────────────────────────═༻ 𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸 𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸 ༺═──────────────────────────────────────────═༻ This letter would be tucked inside a nicely decorated envelope, sealed with a rose stamp accompanied by a shimmery red wax. You may only reply if this letter was sent to you via-link by me, or given irply by someone else! This is all for fun, I will not give the players username oocly simply to avoid meta, but if you're seeing this!! Thank you for the rp, I am not mad OOCLY whatsoever! I hope to make this into some silly rp hehe Another disclaimer, Panya-ha learning to write like this was learned icly! ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ To Panya-Ha's Favorite Friends and Family, Please take your time reading this letter. I am not fond of being threatened or robbed. It is with great sadness I have to inform and warn you all of a Ravens wood Warrior, Who actively endangered me, and my beloved best friend, Emmerich Anarion Aged six. I will try my best to recap the events of what occurred this night. In the late evening, I was upset with a few personal issues, which I will not dive deep into today. Emmerich Anarion was comforting me on the bridge leading into [The nation . . ] Petra. Along comes a man on a black horse with white spots, fully suited in armor. He goes on to ask what we are doing on the bridge. I do not think I have to explain why I did not tell the truth, I simply stated kid things. Emmerich went on to say 'Contemplating Jumping' which was not in . . a seeking death way but for a splash. This man goes onto tell Emmerich to jump from the bridge that extends over the valley. I tell Emmerich that this is not a good idea, landing wrong may hurt him, break a bone or two, or even lead to death. In which the man replies 'The water will save you, Grownups should be listened to, we know better.' I continue to plead with Emmerich to try to get him to understand the dangers of jumping, where the man tells me 'Do you want him to be a Sissy when he grows up?' I successfully manage to get Emmerich to understand why jumping would not result in a pleasant sensation. I told him a fake name, claiming my name was Reina, not Revekka. He went on to mock me for the name, perhaps I am not a good liar. I admit that my anger may have taken over my rational actions, I went on to insult this man, angered by him attempting to persuade my friend to jump off of the bridge. I went on to tell him curse at him, where he tells me 'You look too small to be using those words' where I replied 'You look to old to be trying to find people to interact with you' He asked me if I had a death wish, I pull out a few bottles that I was instructed to use for protection if threatened with harm. He tells me to give him Mina or either something special to me, in which he decides he would like a potion my dearest [now missing] friend gifted to me. I went to instruct him on how to use it, giving it a tiny swirl. He directed his horse to stampede me. I managed to slip out of the way, hitting myself on the railing. I informed him it was not a blast potion and would not explode. It was a smoke whispers potion. Which causes no harm to one, simply stunting the ability to see clearly. I made it clear that if used or handed to him, it would be gone from my person either way. The paranoia of this man was utterly hilarious, I did end up handing the potion over once I saw Emmerich panicked. With that, I asked him who he served for and he informed me it was Ravenswood. This is my official warning to watch out for a tiny little guy [about rahknar's height] who likes to persuade children into killing themselves, and demanding money and belongings from them. With this, feel free to spread or share this letter with who you may see fit. [IRPLY] ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ With love,