Cally

A Won-In woman gasps and screams upon the news, swearing to sever a dozen undead from life in honor of Tio Hick!

i have no regrets

Going to start putting spoilers at the bottom from now on!

Year 270 S.A on the 11th of the Grand Harvest Eye accounts of the Sirillas, Admiral Maerîl O’Rourke on the matter of seaquakes in the southern seas. A fortnight prior to our return to Ildon port, our ship maintained by the Marsyrs, the Windshear, embarked on an expedition to find the cause of the quakes disrupting normal lunar tide patterns. We encountered on southern coral reefs a severe lack of natural wildlife, very inconclusive to the amount of predatory fish such as sharks and large eels. All creatures meek and small seemed to flee from the area. Upon arriving at rather turbulent waters, our lookout spotted a felled whale in the distance on our portside. From such did the weather in the area surrounding it turn reckless with heavy rains and an accumulation of clouds. At times, it sounded almost like something was scraping the bottom of the boat. Drumming sounded from behind us, and we spotted two sloop size foreign ships on our starboard and portside stern. With Sir Therin of Petra on the wheel and Wyllm O’Riley managing rigging, we took heavy combative fire in the form of combustible arrows slicked with a sulfur resin that activated in a chain reaction to light them aflame. All the while, our assailants sang guttural songs of war. These sea bandits, with red sails and golden armor attempted with their technology to create spontaneous fires throughout our ship’s deck that were valiantly put out by leal soldiers Uthyr and Finch. Some too, such as Caelwyn took heavy hits with the second non-combustive volley from the portside ship. The upper command decided that the best move was to turn hard starboard, and we gained an upper hand by exchanging cannon fire. When we were met perpendicular with one of the ships, we were boarded by a band of nine spear men. With valiant efforts from Mersilmë, The D’Artagnan Patriarch, Dolion, Ansel and others they were fended off. At mention of capture, the felled foes quicker drew daggers to their hearts than be taken prisoner. All the while as the singing died out, the chasing ships peeled away from ours. In pursuit was a dark shape in the water. I suppose they decided to cut their losses and stop pursuing a ship that did them damage. And with their departure, the shape disappeared into the deep. Conclusion: It is my personal opinion that these bandits that chased us were whalers, ones that fell larger fish in sacrifice to the sea monster under the waves. Once we surfaced in their waters, and their singing began, it was likely the drum beats and their song that directed the large monster to its prey. Though we have not seen the monster in full, it is likely smart to equip ships we sail henceforth with whaling harpoons that can pierce flesh thicker than 30 centimeters. Furthermore, there are a variety of sea creatures from my previous encounters with these threats with a range of abilities from poisonous corrosive gas to spewing boiling water from their mouths. All crew mates should be equipped with medical supplies to smother burns from acid or water. Signed, HER HIGH LADYSHIP, Maerîl-Emigliana, Matriarch of the House Rourke, Lady-Paramount of Ildon, High Admiral of the Host of Idunia, Master of Tomes, Bard of the Harren Court, Templar Justiciar of Malchediael, Knight of the Realm, Founder of Ildon, Savior of Rourke, Chief-Ceannasai of the Elendâri, Champion of Delgorthad, The First Oathman of the Númenaranyë Unformatted:

Admist a courtyard of flower and stone did judgement find the age-ridden seraphim. Blinking back her calls of war as heavens reminded her of their losses. Gaze gone milky white as she cursed the skies above for the ridicule of suffering. "Let goodness be superior. . ." Images of purity in life flashed in faces old and new, qualms of gentle remembrance in their wake.

WOAH IM MAD WITH POWER LETS PROTEST ACTUAL WORLD POWERS NOW RAAAUAUUUUUUUGHHHH

Penned on the 5th of the First Seed, 269 S.A. From within the holds of Ildon, as they enter a new and special age of musical interaction, they invite not only the rest of Idunia, but the realm to enter a new era. An era of music, dance, craftsmanship and stories! Come one and come all to the bounds of Ildon, and interview for an agency dedicated to giving entertainment to all folk in the realms of descendants. For the refurbishing of a tavern in Ildon, this guild takes up the mantle of the travelling circus, popular in Almaris! As such, many of the old members are invited to join and share their talents with the world once more as we set up a travelling caravan to tour the world. Ranks of Teaching and Learning: Aspiring Creative Our most valued students who have taken the leap to join our program of talented individuals ready to hone their skills! Anyone from simply a spirited craftsman to a jovial player of instruments. Prefect Student Students who have proven themselves capable members of the agency and shown that they are ready to tutor and bounce ideas off of their peers. Prefects will teach and guide Aspiring Creatives to reach their level, and encourage them to attend classes! They are responsible for keeping track of a specific group of students within the same niche as them. Say, a painter prefect will moderate a group of painters, a musician a group of musicians and so on. Savant Creator A prefect student who has proven themselves both able to help their peers, attend classes, and excel in their field of work. These are chosen by Alumni Professors and a board of Bardic Masters to gain their savant marigold pin. Their tasks ascend to teaching their peers in small curated sessions and demonstrations coordinated with Professors to further enrich learning with a specific skill of theirs. They are also allowed to put on performances impromptu at any of the marked and documented hot-spots for our performing arts! Bardic Master Someone who has proven their worth with all aspects of their time at the agency with time, dedication and effort. Our truly exceptional students will be chosen out of excellence to take a performative assessment to prove their bardic and performative capabilities. This includes their ability to gain the favor of a crowd, and create resonance with the people. Alumni Professor An exceptional one of our students who has been deemed not only able to graduate and create their own branches within the agency, but grant them the ability to teach students their craft in their own chosen curriculum. Send a bird to Maerîl O'Rourke if interested in Enrollment! All this said and established, tuition is not only free but the school will run on donations only. Founded by High Lady and Ser Maerîl of Ildon, it was her greatest desire to one day nurture the ambitions of all creatives regardless of wealth. Music is for everyone, craft is for everyone. Signed, HER HIGH LADYSHIP, Maerîl-Emigliana, Matriarch of the House Rourke, Lady-Paramount of Ildon, High Admiral of the Host of Idunia, Master of Tomes, Bard of the Harren Court, Templar Justiciar of Malchediael, Knight of the Realm, Founder of Ildon, Savior of Rourke, Chief-Cennesaei of the Elendâri, Champion of Delgorthad, The First Oathman of the Númenaranyë

Admiral Maerîl reads her good friend's missive with a nod while having her morning tea in her greenhouse.

It felt almost cruel to Areum that things went the way they did. Riding up seaside to the port, and looking out as she found a scrap of pink-white fabric floating adrift in the waking waves. Crouching with her kusarigama to fish it out of the water. Even then, she was worried, shattered. Sometimes she couldn't believe she reached the ages she did, sometimes she couldn't believe she was grown. Now, fingers tracing her mother's hangul calligraphy on a prepared scroll. . . She sang, a song her mother had sung to her when she had prophetic nightmares. "Mong mong geya jitjimara. . ." The ache in her chest spreading as a concerned hearth-fire fox laid at her feet and tried to nuzzle her out of numbness. Tears of fire rolled down her cheeks. "Uri agi jaldo janda. . ." Her voice faltered as resolve in her broke and more tears came flooding. The fox whimpered. She curled further in on herself as singing became hard, patrons and her pacted spirits gathered 'round to try and coax her out of this broken, numbing pain. They needed a strong champion. "Ggoggo dakah ulgimara. . uri agi danjam ggenda. . ." But, she was nothing at the moment. The light they tried to fill her with cracked, then extinguished in ephemeral nature. She curled a fist into her mother's pillow on the bed she prepared for her, the scent of comfort and home filling her lungs. The person, her dear mother, no where to be found. "Jajang jajang uri aga . ." Breathing became a chore, and singing became more of a plea, a plea even Oem-ssi answered, esoteric and unreachable as she. A shadowed hand coming to her back as even the faceless woman's mouth downturned. "Jaldo janda uri aga. . ." Her singing faded out when she couldn't cry anymore, her head hurt and reeled with the dehydration and her voice became too broken to speak. She'd lay on that bed for days, hardly taking care of herself. She dreamed of her mother, the only mother she ever had, being alright and alive. . . At least she could try. At least the spirits granted her that much.

Maerîl O'Rourke wonders why the great house of Rourke and Marsyr, major building blocks for current Idunian culture have been an afterthought once more.

eeeeeyuuuuck

Too now, had the Admiral been shepherded the news by a chore-boy in her office on the docks. The hot tea in her grasp had gone unmistakably cold even despite its residual warmth in her palm. Penance, is that what they call mutilation now? Thought she, as her dark hand on the tea's cup loosened to return to its saucer. Green, paling eyes glancing over words that made her stomach turn. For how much, even without him being there did she defend Nickolai from this? Even in the birth of his babes had she defended him and his actions as a result of the cruel punishment he had already been given; the inability to wed. How she held Nicky's mother in her arms after the prospect of keeping the twin babes he sired for experiments, her sacrifice to put herself as a daughter of a cursed child had been denied. She was too old, after all, too much without vulnerability. Her trust in the presiding clergy waned violently once more.

Admiral Maerîl, High Admiral of the Ports, spoke stoutly and kind upon the announcement of their official navy. Scanning over the scroll she helped scribe with Admiral Arthur. "We will do great things, Arth. . . Oh oh-" She stopped a choreboy on his way to the wrong spot. "Cloth goes over there, to supply the Vengeance with sails." A pointed demand and direction.

OF An Areum and Tsukinomiya Shuji OOC INFORMATION: 「기다려온 결혼식」 「待ち望まれた結婚式」 Foreword, As immigrants from our home lands, the two of us learned together how to navigate the world beyond our understandings. All the while, we learned to read, to love, and to speak our minds within one another’s comfort. Over the years even despite hardships with the Mountain, our love grew into something worth keeping. And with this, we have decided to (long-awaited) set the date to tie our destinies together. The Sharing of the Gourd (瓢箪の契り · 표주박의 서약) A deeply symbolic wedding rite drawn from the traditions honored by Oyashiman and Won-In, reflecting the belief that two separate lives are joined into one shared path. Through drinking from the same gourd, the couple affirms unity, balance, and mutual dependence, while the gourd’s many seeds symbolize fertility, abundance, and continuity. As a natural vessel associated with protection and spiritual preservation, the gourd marks the marriage as a bond recognized not only by the community but by ancestral and unseen forces, such as the kami or the spirits. In this act, sharing is transformed into a living vow that joy, hardship, fortune, and fate will be carried together. The Rite of Mutual Bowing (相互拝礼 · 상호 배례) This tradition stands as the most essential expression of respect within the union of Oyashiman and Won-In, placing embodied reverence above spoken vows. In this rite, the depth of each bow reflects the depth of respect offered, with lower bows signaling greater humility, sincerity, and devotion. Through deliberate and repeated bows, each partner acknowledges the other as an equal, honoring their past, their presence, and the shared future they step into together. By bowing deeply, the couple affirms that their marriage is founded on profound respect that must be continually upheld. Blessing of Yasu-Tori Botsugo Our Yasu-Tori, the closest confidant of our material world in relation to the kami will oversee the ceremony and give his blessing unto the two to be wed on Nichi-Jin temple grounds. Afterwards, Gaijin or native, the newlyweds invite gifts to be given, for gift-giving is an utmost sign of respect for any special occasion in both cultures. Moreover, a show of cuisine is to be offered in the form of a large festival to celebrate their union with a feast, sumo competition, and an array of stalls offering goods and food! Disclaimer: Any open form of disrespect towards the newlyweds will be met with military response, jail time or in worst cases, execution by order of the Shugo. The Invited: All Samurai of the Kurai-Kuni Shugonate All denizens of the Shugonate Friends from the Empire of Man Forest-Cradled Won-In The Special Invitees: Florian Malory of House Enswerp and his friends Ugokoyama Atsuko a.k.a “Oja A”, “The Iron Lady” Andromède Florence dey Medford and her friends Ahn Ahjin Ser Frederick Euler Roswyn Aldor The Surgeon Druszila Lady Manon and friends from the NGS See you there! 「また会いましょう！」 「그곳에서 만나요！」

Admiral Maerîl wiped herself clean of black powder as she sailed away with Ser Caspian, giving him a glance. She looked back and signed the lorraine over her chest, hoping that perhaps the dead would find their grace in GOD knowing they had gambled in the category of Idunian lives long before she had decided to send the boat off. The suffering of many would have to suffice for the near-death of her loyal soldier of Zimrabar. And for that decisiveness, she smiled.

been ready since before his ban thank u v much

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

An Areum had known pain in the years her husband-to-be had left her for many years in duty of his samurai trials. This, was a different, hollow pain.

Admiral Maerîl, mother of the Rourkes frowned as her letter came and she began to investigate just exactly why her dear student Nickolai had found now a good time to leave, of all the other times he was doubted. Eyes, first landed on the Priest of Wick.

my boys!! i love my boys!!!

An Admiral of Idunia laughs.