RoamingRonin

+1. 

Not exactly sure why this person was banned in the first place. Every person I've talked to about this player has given nothing but a glowing review about them. 

And even then, if they really were a demon in the past, it seems they wish to flip that script. People are like diamonds. They change with enough pressure and time. If they want demonstrate their change, then let them prove it. 

Just make the server first (genuine RP) death PK. 

The Oyashiman ronin-hexer, Masuo of Yamatai, sat upon a stump in the North, sharpening his blade upon a whetstone. He'd heard the news, as a twisting grimace marking his visage whilst he continued his task. It is unfortunate, he thought. The king was one of the few level-headed folks that still roamed these lands. Along with that, he was one of the few royals that Masuo respected in any capacity. 

The Hexer sighs, inspecting his work, before looking to the jewel of the North. Apprehension was taking root, but above all, the samurai hoped the King had found some semblance of peace. 

I can't read to save my life, so I've elected to narrow my posts down to three points, one for each section. 

1. The general outcry I'm seeing is to bring back resource pits. I agree. And I think if the playerbase is asking for an old favorite (and a convenience) to make a return, then we should listen to them, considering they are...well, the bulk of the server lmao. Besides, I don't think I've ever done a resource run that was RPly motivated aside from "we need this". I don't see why it's being pushed to an enforced thing, and spending mind numbing hours running around the map to find these resource nodes sounds like a time sink. 

2. I like the  CT idea. I feel like we should have speed boost on roads. I thought that was always a thing. I guess I'm learning now it's not(?). I dunno. I have no real opinion about CT, considering I rarely ever go there at all. That's just a personal thing, so take it with a grain of salt.

3. I like the idea of tiles being hand-drawn. Now THAT is a little piece of immersion I can get behind. It'd make sense for a nation to build around the area they find. Also, I agree with a few folks that tiles shouldn't be cheap. Other than that, I have no real issues with tiles. Mostly just take issues with nations as a whole concept. 

The reputable and illustrious Roland LeGrand grumbled aloud, squinting his eyes and holding the missive closer to his face, then far away. "Gah, do all dwarves write like dis?" 

1 hour ago, Proddy said:

among us

The reputable and illustrious Roland LeGrand reads the parchment as it was released, a small curve of his lips upward. He thinks about how there are many other deserving targets, one that sit in rather high positions. He quickly burns the material, and seeks to meet with Kazimir sometime in the future to discuss.

Koko signs the word 'cry'. 

Goodbye Miko. You were a baller friend to have around! Hope to cross paths with you again in the future. 

(And your skins are friggin dope)

The Oyashiman Hexer, Masuo of Yamatai, would remain blissfully unaware of this missive. He was sat upon a stump in Karkosa, sharpening his blades whilst planning the way forward.

"Seen dis fella a lot in Celia'nor." The gambler would snicker, reading the missive with and  flipping the page over in his hand. "No correlation, obviously." He'd say sarcastically, folding the paper up and storing it away for safekeeping. There'd be some folks who find this of interest.

"Definitely no outside motivations involved here."  The gambler would recount idly. 

A reputable businessman looks over the pristine white city of Celia'nor, stood amidst the tower atop his sanctum. 

His face downturned into a frown, no, a scowl. Fire danced in his eyes...

Late to this but: I only knew you for a little bit, and I had fun writing with you. 

Hope to cross paths again in the future, despite how unlikely that'll be.

Enjoy life, and go with the flow. 

"Was a good fella. Watched him beat up an old man who spat on de princess. Made for good fun, no?" The reputable businessman, Roland LeGrand, would say upon finding out the poor knight's passing. "Well, dat and he warned of skeletal horsemen. Got t' close up de casino a bit early." He'd snicker, passing cards to each player on a streetside table in Karosgrad. 

23 hours ago, rukio said:

"That's a lot of writing, must be trying to make up for something." Jhaeros would snicker to Valyris. On and on he read, shaking his head. "I'll have him know that I personally prevent darkspawn when I'm on gate duty, as does every other diraar, and we handle the darkspawn as they reveal themselves. Perhaps the Uruks knew because they were in league with the necromancers and were in on the effort to kill you, larii'onn. He brings up Cartref a lot- does he not realize it's been cleansed of the necromancers, that the settlement is empty?  He wonders why we wouldn't bring uruks- does he forget their own hostilities? Why would we bring allies of Serheim to aid us against darkspawn?" 

 

A tsk as he'd continue, never heated, ever too proper a 'Thill to bear a temper. "There's no way uruks are this stupid, they aren't QUITE ologs. As for why the information was not given- perhaps he did not yet live when the Inferi attacked the descendants, in that realm we fled from to reach this one. I know of few who have existed more than a few decades who aren't aware of what a Synod is or its existence there." A snicker. "Perhaps he needs a lesson in history, espionage, and politics. He paints only himself into a corner with these accusations. No Diraar lets darkspawn walk freely." 

"Ya have darkspawn within your own ranks, ya idjit." A reputable business man would comment in passing, before entering the inner sanctum of The Hiram King. 

"Too late. Fifteen years too late." The gambler would hum, reading the missive brought to him by the sufficiently paid host of the casino. "Now do ghosts next." 

Masuo of Yamatai sat in the wilderness of this horrid land, having heard what had happened from his comrades. 

He'd sharpen his blade, a frown laid struck across his features. 

"We gave him chance after chance. Hell, I gave him a second lease on life." He'd mutter, feeling some twinge of sadness and regret. "Now my only regret is I didn't get to kill him myself." He'd say, packing up and moving on from his temporary seating arrangement. Little did the Oyashiman know, that there would be a letter waiting for him should he ever return. One that may give context.

He was there for both events. The supposed 'attack' at Starpool, and the 'execution', if one could call it that. One might say it was more akin to a butchering fit for a slaughterhouse. Something did not line up in his mind about the rationale. 

With his own disposition soured towards the government, and the grief stricken elves of Amathea making pilgrimage to ask what had happened, a fire ignited in his belly. One of rebellion.

A scowl twisted his vision, as he stood within the tower overlooking the square. Rememberance took hold of the calm and collected mother of the deceased, carrying off her son down the roads of the countryside.  Of the phantoms and poltergeists that laid claimant to the rights of the living. Of the violation of his sacrosanct sanctum by the fascist 'military'. 

Anger threatened to bubble to the surface, but he knew better than that to show his emotions in public. He'd simply sigh deeply, shut his eyes for a moment, and hold his anger within. In his mind, something needed to change.

"Didn't particularly enjoy my place of business bein' raided like some common bandit's hovel. Or being intruded upon t' begin wit', unannounced. All guardforce actions, by de by." The illustrious and reputable Roland LeGrand would comment, a sharp frown downturned upon his features. "De way I see it, Celia'nor's guardforce accounts for nothin' but common thugs, lacking finesse or tact." He'd criticize, as he shuffled the deck to those within attendance of his private card game, taking place within The Hiram King. "Much love to de new ruler of de Celia'diraar, hope de reign is short and fruitless." He'd say, dealing the cards out to the players, a small smile as he did so!

On 11/22/2022 at 4:22 PM, Neviah said:

(Comment voided) 

He didn't witness it happen. Merely, an arrow sail through the air, as he'd been trying to breach the tower and pull them both out. 

Between the roaring of the blaze, and the shouting of his comrades, Masuo of Yamatai did not hear with certainty what went down in the tower. Just the explosive power of a boomsteel arrow. 

Yet, the flames raged on, and  the samurai could not bare to lose any more than he had. Simple shouts and commands, to abandon the keep, and escape with their lives. 

Fighting through smoke and flame, did those weary Hexers run. Witnessing the horrors of lost comrades, one of which his beloved niece, he trudged on. 

As they looked back, Masuo fought tears. How could this have happened? How could the mage do this? A mix of hatred and pain tore his face asunder, the tears welling in his eyes until he could not contain them much longer. 

Kolette of Rolin. 

At one point in time, he cared for her like a mentor, trying to steer her from her misdoings, and occasionally even partaking in them. He could see her face planted clearly in his mind. The scared little girl, on a ship besieged by pirates. He'd tried to visualise her now, in the present, but the pain was too much. Even with her final act, he could harbor no hatred. 

Despite the misgivings of others, and the antagonistic nature, he'd miss her. 

In his mind, he knew she was gone. No one escaped the blaze. But in his heart, he prayed she'd somehow made it out, and left to embark on a quiet and peaceful life. 

He'd think back, to their last conversation together, sitting side by side at the great dining hall of Dun an Ein.

"I'm happy you are back. It's so good to see you!" 

"You as well, Kolette." He'd smile. "You as well..." 

This. This is how he'd remember her. A girl who loved so completely, that she'd sacrifice herself for those she'd care for. 

The ronin hexer, Masuo of Yamatai, watched in terror as the flames engulfed  the tower. Praying to himself for the safety of his beloved niece, the samurai urged those within the flames to find better ground. However, before he could, he watched in despair. 

A plummet of flames and flesh, the form roughly in the shape of that woman he held so dear. The wailing of Angelika, and the crackling of flames drowned out all sounds.  Yellowed gaze grew glassy, but the intensity of the flames summoned him back to his senses. 

"We have to GO!" He'd cry out, and the others acquiesced. He would mourn, later. However, the pain of this loss. It would never leave him. It would become a part of him, warping and changing him in a way no blade or fang could. 

Darya...his moody, headstrong, difficult Darya. How many times had they sat upon the rails, just outside Verres's room, and exchanged philosophical conversation by way of Kaktuz smoke? The times, standing side by side, as they fought for what they believed to be right, whether it be in the halls of Dun an Ein, or on the streets of Providence. Backing each others' play, keeping their heads on a swivel, being warriors for the mundane. He'd fought tooth and nail to keep her alive. He'd believed he failed once, and it ruined him. The uncertainty of not knowing her absolute fate, a haunting shadow that hung over him like a cloak.

Now, there was no question. 

Grief stricken, a pit left curled into his stomach, as he would take stock of his life and choices. Could he carry on? In a world without one he had sworn his family? A bond deeper than blood. One of absolute, unshakeable love. 

He knew the Hexer Creed meant certain death. He'd steeled himself for it many times over. So why? Why did this pain wrack his body and mind? Poisoning his thoughts and stalling his action.

Again, he asked. Could he carry on? Once before, when he'd thought her lost, he tore himself away from the family he knew, and retreated back into himself. A destiny he swore he'd never let happen again. A stain of guilt, for his shakiness to the Creed, ever marking him. He'd promised himself: whatever happens, he would see it through to the end.

Well, despite his best efforts, those thoughts intruded again. Many nights were spent staring down to the bottom of a sake bottle. A panacea for the pain. Now, more than ever, when his family needed him, he was sitting hand in hand with his vices. 

Replaying the events in his mind. Opening wounds before they had the chance to close and heal. It should have been him. She should have surpassed him. Curse it all, this long lived life! 

The blame he rendered upon himself, the horrid self-flagellation of the mind, tore him to bits. He could do it again. The trail called him once more, and he was on the precipice of letting his feet carry him off. Like the wind, he had said fondly, though this time would be marred with grim intent. He'd spiral. Like a man being pulled into the undertow. Drifting away, leaving others to share the burden amongst themselves. Until he thought to himself....

What would she say, should she see him now? 

"Get up, uncle. I thought you were one of the old ones." He'd heard, clear as day.

A smile formed at the thought. A weak one, but it was what he needed. How foolish Arising from his stupor, he'd enter the forests outside of where they made refuge, the voice of his niece guiding him onward. He needed to be stronger now. Resolute. An unmoving oak for the others to latch to, when they feel themselves growing weak.

"I am sorry to have left once more, uncle.. But in spirit I shall remain until we are united once more.." 

There, in the dense woodlands, one would hear the primal screams. One filled with hatred, sorrow, pain, and most importantly...love. A reaffirming of himself to this order; to his family. He'd scream, and scream, until his voice gave out. Tears poured from his eyes like a dam that had been breached, until his eyes could produce no more. 

And, then when all was quiet, and he was sat upon a stump, he would look to the sky, upon the pallid complexion of the moon. 

And he could swear, up there on the surface of that celestial rock, that he could see a figure dancing. Swaying in a dress, hair bobbing as she's lifted and swung around by a man with eyes yellowed much like his own. 

They'd seem to stop as soon as they were noticed, the girl breaking free from the man's grasp, as she ran to put herself in better view. She was jumping and waving, as if to get the ronin's attention, soon coming to rest with a wide, toothy grin. The man took position behind her, a more reserved smile lining his visage. He'd wave as well. 

The Hexer's hand moved on it's own, as he lofted it high, and waved back, a smile etched permanently upon him. 

He'd sworn he had no more tears left. A gamble he'd lose.

"I love de Hiram King." Announced Roland LeGrand, as he dealt the twelfth losing hand to each of the players, both of whom were looking rather enraptured by the promise of victory. "Keep dat spirit, mes amis. De win is comin' in time, no?"

 A Grand Dealing of Cards

 (Year Ninety of The Second Age)

“The Hiram King. Come in broke, and leave rich as royalty!“

[!] An artist’s rendition of an intense game of Four Horsemen at play.

To the Citizens of Celia’nor and all wayfarers, commonfolk, and those too rich to care,

Congratulations! You are cordially invited to the grand opening of The Hiram King casino! 

—

Masterminded by the mysterious gentleman, Roland LeGrand, The Hiram King’s doors open for anyone who wishes to have a luxurious time. Located in the heart of Celia’nor, play your heart out or eat away the sorrows from a bad hand. And after you’ve had your fill of spirits, why not join us for another game or two? The Hiram King and its staff are well equipped for a multitude of games, most of which are well known, or engineered by Roland LeGrand himself. At current, the casino sports a dice table, a roulette wheel, and a card table, all made specifically to fit the player’s niche. 

If low stakes aren’t your thing, perhaps take a gander at our VIP section. With refreshments on tap, a moody atmosphere, and cards dealt directly by the Grandmaster of Games himself, one could never ask for a better way to make some money. 

—

Should you find yourself at the High Stakes table, your luck and card playing ability will be challenged in a game of Four Horsemen, a game popularized and perfected by Mr. LeGrand. 

And finally, if souvenirs suit your fancy, be sure to stop by our souvenir stand. Stocked with the finest hand crafted playing cards and dice that you could get your hands on, why not take a piece of the King home with you? A reminder to not be a stranger, and to come back when you wish to win big. 

—

[!] Penned in near illegible ink at the very bottom of the parchment was the following.

For Gambling Addictions, please seek help at the nearest clinic. Or let it ride. Ninety percent of gambling addicts quit right before they hit it big. 

MC Name:

         GamblersPalm

Character's Name:

         Roland LeGrand

Character's Age:

         50?

Character's Race:

         Elf

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Fire Evocation

Teacher's MC Name:

         BalmakkaCringe

Teacher's RP Name:

         Father Minot

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         N/A

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, that you may no longer use it in character?

         Yes

Smoking that NL pack!!!