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    Somewhere in the frozen wasteland of Canada

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  • Character Name
    Xob Wobson, Mjoruk'Duhr
  • Character Race
    Oblazeki Gnome, Primitive Uruk

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  1. 1st Edict of the Great Golden Boar Issued the 18th of Malin’s Welcome, in the Year 168 of the Second Age HENCEFORTH it is decreed with royal permission that the Great Golden Boar Hunting Club is the lawful authority and manager of hunting within the Kingswood of Aran-în-Eryn, including trade of any and all resources and game-meats sourced from the royal forest. Trade of game-meat, foraged foods, building resources [barring the act of logging] and the sport of hunting is to be regulated and monitored through the ownership of a license that is to be held at all time during the activities mentioned above, these licenses are to be scribed on a case-by-case basis by Forester Harmund dey Norgent for the price of thirty mina, marked with the name and signature of the party seeking the permission to hunt within the Kingswood. Forgery of these documents will be considered a criminal offence, to be rectified by the fining of one hundred and fifty mina and the removal of the fingers upon the scribe’s dominant hand, that being determined by the official carrying out the legal punishment. It is also of note that the previous laws put in place by the Royal Edict for The Preservation of the Kingswood of Aran-în-Eryn are still in effect, meaning that logging is considered Illegal and punishable as described in that previous edict. Thusly it is heavily advised that all prospective hunters, gatherers, or otherwise seek out Forester Harmund dey Norgent to obtain a legal license, lest they be found guilty of lawbreaking. Signed, Harmund dey Norgent, Forester of the Kingswood of Aran-în-Eryn, Proprietor of the Great Golden Boar HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Tar-Caraneth Aryantë of the House Arthalionath, by the Grace of GOD, Queen of the Númenedain, Princess of Númenost and Minas Amath, Protector of the Adunians, Master of the Sharadûn, Templar of the Archangel Michael, Knight of the Realm
  2. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HIGH GNOMIC COUNCIL As dictated and designed by Wisecap Xob Wobson of the Incarnate House of Aob Written and published during the four hundred and second year since the Fall of Oblazekos - 166 SA. Long has it been since the fall of Oblazekos, and long has it been since anything resembling a unified Gnomish people graced the realm on which we walk. I, Xob Wobson of The Incarnate House of Aob, declare that such will be rectified, though not conflict and arguments between factions and splintered clans or lineages, but instead through diplomatic moot. Time and time again in my own lifetime have I tried or seen others attempt to establish a home for our collective race, each or mediocre to failing levels of success, this travesty is not due to our inability, but due to the lack of communication between ourselves. Considering such, I hereby announce the establishment of The High Gnomic Council, to be convened when deemed necessary at wherever location is appropriate. Its purpose is to ensure the proper upholding of sacred tradition and the collection of all Gnomish factions currently present on Braevos for the purposes of debate and discussion regarding the future of the Gnomish people and the hopeful unification of our splintered and fractured race. Those with interest in being a councillor are recommended to contact myself or any other member of the council, it is imperative that all Gnomish groups and factions are accounted for, else this mission fails without meaning or purpose. - XOB WOBSON OF THE INCARNATE HOUSE OF AOB Lord, Doctor Professor, Laird, Commander, High Elder, Wisecap, Hypernaut Captain of The 1st Fleet, Patriarch of Aob’s House, Holder of Oblazek’s Cap, Author of the Gnominomicon, Etc. Contact Norgeth_ on Discord for more information or if interested in joining the council.
  3. A COSMIC BUSINESS DEAL [!] Do not metagame this Arcane Displacement Adventure Tirsbeisuchel | The Grand Markets | Trade, The Flow of Goods, & Uncountable Wealth A strange plane of endless markets and bazaars, selling all manner of goods and spices in a seemingly infinite variety. The denizens of this far-flung world were of what seems to be extremely varied origin and ethnicity, them all claiming to have come to the great markets to sell and gain fortunes beyond imagination. Ruled by an eccentric merchant lord whose name is often spoken in reverence throughout the sprawling tents and shops that make up the world of commerce and trade. “That one, that one right there” said the ambitious Raev trader, pointing toward the night skies, toward a singular star gleaming in the darkness. “Aye? Oi’ll goh tahre tis evening” spoke Xob, nodding as he waddled off with a salute, moving back to base, preparing for his trip across unknowable distances and dangers. A countdown began, various sirens and loud alarms being sounded as it slowly counted down to zero. Xob stood within a circle of salt, chanting under his beard as he placed a glass helmet overtop his head, sealing to the rest of his armour with a POP, various mechanical locks and mechanisms keeping it firmly in place as the tiny gnome began to shimmer and sparkle, multicoloured sparks flying around his wavering form as he then seemed to simply vanish in a chaotic burst of energy. . . The Captain flew across the cosmos, seeing all manner of worlds and dimensions pass by in a blink of the eye, some prosperous, some collapsing and dead. The trip of unknowable and truly not for the sane of mind, the little Hypernaut eventually appearing with a small explosion of esoteric energy within a secluded alleyway. Xob looked around, waddled out of the cramped corner to see a bustling marketplace, filled with stalls and shops as far as the eye could see. . . Xob began to explore the mostly peaceful land of trade and commerce, eventually finding a large shop filled with the smell of spices and herbs unknown to descendant-kind, he entered with a jingle of the doorbell, the small explorer nodding toward the merchant who stood at the front counter. “Elloh! Oi’d loike toh buy. . .” Xob pointed toward a collection of tins and spice-jars, the Hypernaut taking out a coin purse filled with what meagre money he brought along. “Ah! Welcome! Welcome!” said the merchant from Hyperspace, appearing mostly akin to a human as he looked toward the jars that Xob pointed out “Four Hundred Units” he said bluntly. Xob shook his head “Oi nae ‘ave taht much, but maybeh yer will beh interested en ah trade?” spoke the gnome, pouring out four mina into his hand, showing them to the merchant with a nod. The Hyperspacial Merchant looked toward the mina in awe “I, I have never seen such a currency!” he exclaimed, giving the chosen spices and products to Xob in exchange for what was surely to be mundane in most mortal minds. Xob left the shop with a smile, harmless yet interesting goods in his backpack as he traveled back to that secluded alleyway. . . He drew forth another salt circle and began his ritual, appearing back in the Hypernaut Base soon afterwards. “Ehehehe! Ah good day fer business!” said the little gnome, smiling as he put away his armour, going back to the streets for another, more material adventure.
  4. [!] Two different shamans scribble down letters, them being sent by automaton courier and small fat pigeon respectively. Name: Bor of Hazum Race: Hill Giant/Man of Hazum Type(s) of Shaman: Animist Teacher(s): Mugmar himself Name: Xob Wobson Race: Oblazeki Gnome Type(s) of Shaman: Witch Doctor Teacher(s): Borok’Akaal
  5. Bor of Hazûm read over the missive, gathering those Hill Giants of Mugmar’s Circle together, soon stating “Landlerd ‘as given uhs job toh doh, ahn eht honours Mugmar justleh” he spoke aloud and with pride, nodding toward his good buddies “Honour toh Landlerd, Honour toh Hazûm!” bellowed Bor as he quickly went to work, preparing for any conflicts to come. @Tharranstarbreaker @Titanium430
  6. Dr Professor Xob Wobson, Hypernaut Captain looked toward the letter as it was delivered to him, the small gnome pausing for a moment before looking toward an invention blueprint beyond anything that predated it “Lets ‘ope tis werks. . .Teh Hypahwar will need eht” he mumbled to himself, going back to work with newfound purpose and reasoning.
  7. A horrible being stirred from momentary slumber with a small and decrepit creature carrying a letter to him, Morul the Undying One reading over the news as a cruel and rotten grin of yellowed teeth came over the unliving sorcerer “Now tis. . . Tis beh guud, guud news. Hail toh Khorvad, Long may teh Arch-Runelord suffah.” he stated with malefic intent, going to make a request of his dark master.
  8. [𝄞] [!] A letter was sent to Markus, flying from a far-off forest encampment. . . @Nooblius [DO NOT METAGAME CONTENTS UNLESS SHOWN IRP] Hail, you may not know who I am, but I know who you are and I feel it is time to make amends on behalf of both our houses. I am Wymond Lynde, Former Baron of Rulund and at one time, a loyal denizen of Adria. During the rebellion many-a-year ago, I was still young and unknowing of the troubles or tribulations that my family would endure at my own hand, I surrendered my titles and intentionally left them to rot, seeking an escape from the baronial responsibility that was entrusted to my house. For years, decades perhaps, I have fumed without end over this decision, and for all that time, I blamed your father, I blamed Adria in-and-of-itself. I am now nearly sixty and have seen that hate is not the way forward. . . Considering your recent missives about the reconciliation of the midlands and the abolishment of Veletz, I would like to request for you to consider returning the titles of Rulund back to my family. I ask for no land, no prestige, just a path forward in case me or my descendants ever seek to revive my fathers lost vision. If a meeting is required, it shall take verily take place. I would also understand the possibility of denial, for I know my request is strange. Signed, Wymond Lynde of Rulund
  9. Mim Dworicsson Starbreaker read over the missive, a rare scowl soon coming over his face. “BAHH! Oi will goh toh tis meetin’, but onleh toh support Lerd Jorvin ahn Eldah Norleh! tis es rotten, rotten ahn foul oi doh say!” At that, the normally jolly merchant dwed stored away the letter for later, alongside many other messages and missives, grumbling deeply.
  10. FULL NAME: Bor of Hazûm AGE: 47 PRIOR EXPERIENCE: I, Bor, am of Hazûm! All of Hazûm are mighty and tall, like an oak atop a hill. I, Bor have many survival skills and am trained in the arts of conflict, such is the way of Hazûm. I, Bor, have also slain and helped to slay monsters under the control of powerful infernal forces of evil while under the command of the legendary Shugo Kato of Sakuragakure. METHOD OF CONTACT: Tharmekhul [norgeth_ on Discord] NOTES: Those of Hazûm are often called Hill Giants by others. I, Bor's primary goal is to eliminate and deal with the corrupted and often larger children of Mugmar that are noted on your list, though, I, Bor will also fight other creatures of the dark if deemed necessary by Mugmar the Hill Titan, for I, Bor, am his voice.
  11. @LithiumSedai [!] Bor of Hazûm read over the missive after much effort and trial, figuring out its general meaning, soon the giant-like figure went about scribbling a short and concise letter to the Governor-General, it arriving, quickly and with haste by way of trained and rather fat pigeon. I, Bor of Hazûm, leader of the Mugmar’s Circle Band, would like to offer a total of thirty-five mina for every single Stassiemark ever minted if found to be cast of the mentioned tin, even if of inferior quality. My intentions are to melt these defunct pieces of currency down to be used in the production of bronze, both for arms and armour, aswell as statuettes, decor-ware, and good luck charms. - May your monuments stand good governor. Signed, Bor of Hazûm, Voice of Mugmar
  12. [!] A depiction of the rolling hills of now sunken Hazum. . . A DEAL WITH A JOLLY GIANT A pharaoh friend, a hungry fellow, a stout wiseman, and a voice to be made a harsh trek from the lands of Ra’s chosen, marching through ice, frost and forest as they eventually found camp, that stone circle, monument of Hazum. . . Praise was given, offerings abound as a pious ruler brought the party to the realm of hills. All was quiet, silent and good, rolling hills all about, and silence there was. . . A sacrifice of Baggis, made in his name, was given to the titan of earth and of mound, for the jolly giant knew a good smell. He awoke, the voice to be made a pact, with the giant of hills and with tack, soul blessed by rock and rumble, so it was and never to tumble. Praise be to Mugmar the Sleeping Titan of Hills, Hazum knows you once more. “HO HO HO!” - MUGMAR THE JOLLY SPIRIT OF HILLS [⅕ Magic Slots Taken for Bor of Hazum - Spirit Pact to The Hill Titan Mugmar, Lesser Elemental Spirit of Rolling Hills and Mounds, Lesser under Bregthar, Greater Elemental Spirit of Earth]
  13. THE UNLIVING CLOCK CHIMES AT THREE [!] The skies of The Grand Kingdom blacken with swarms of mutated and voidally corrupted beetles and vermin, pallid eyes aglow with disdain for life and all that is just. They carry a letter, written upon the flayed skin of poor hapless nobodies in a finely scribed script, dwarven in origin and styling. Just as the hammer strikes the anvil and the clock ticks away, so does your time to respond to my former message and the demands there-in fall into the past. I am a merciful overlord, so I will grant you, those of Urguan, another chance to not only meet my reasonable requests, but to save your precious rune from a fate worse than destruction. You have three stonedays to discuss among your petty leadership and come to a public conclusion, lest the distant Yemekar’s forlorn art be turned in my favour. . . choose wisely. GLORY TO KHORVAD - MIGHT AND AMBITION Signed - Your Master, Chosen of Might, Exalted before Khorvad, MORGUL THE UNDYING ONE
  14. DEMANDS OF THE UNDYING I, Morgul the Undying, Exalted before Khorvad have heard of your weeping cries, your feeble attempts to regain your precious artifact have been for naught, and for that I do pity you, those of Urguan. Think not that I have no honour - I am still a Khazad and will not let such be stained with cowardice or hiding in the great fortress of my mighty masters. I offer you a set of demands, that if fulfilled, will earn your helmet its freedom, to rest in your hands once more. . . Firstly, I demand a statue be built of myself somewhere in your city and all those to come on this land of Aevos. Secondly, I demand a festival to be held in my name, where it is spoken aloud for all to hear. Lastly, I demand that you release a public missive stating your weakness and acceptance of my terms. These are my demands, this is your chance to reclaim your pitiful relic. GLORY TO KHORVAD - MIGHT AND AMBITION Signed - Your Master, Chosen of Might, Exalted before Khorvad, MORGUL THE UNDYING ONE
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