Quantumatics

The young William of Helena quickly began penning a letter himself, signing it to Ms. Adrienne Dubois, eager to take a break from his work with the brown cap union. “I, William of Helena, accept this invitation to the Kaedreni party of the youth.”

A Tale of Mercy’s Grace Qalasheen Folk Music The sun had set over the island of Korvassa on the 4th of Amber Cold, 1765, when the tranquility of night was disturbed by the screeching reverberation of steel against steel. Longswords and Shamshirs escaped their scabbards as the Mujahideen stood atop the sandstone walls of the glorious city of Al-Faiz, a beacon of strength and Qalasheen intuition. The kafirs observed from below Al-Faiz, their silhouettes were that of demons in the dusk, haunting the roads of Korvassa. In their clutches, a young defenseless girl by the name of Catherine, aged only nine. She had been beaten brutally when one of the bandits stepped forward from the crowd of men, and forced her to kneel before his blade. In little more than an instant, her throat grew tainted with blood, and her body fell fallow upon the sand. The renowned ghazi warriors rushed from the gates of Al-Faiz, first a wave, and soon a torrent, in their numbers were Khattab, Saeed, Fahad, Antar, Hamza, Mavin, Scyther, and myself, Yusuf Ibn Tariq. At the sight of the illustrious mujahideen, the bandits dispersed into the desert. The young Qalasheen girl was taken into the city, where she was tended to by Esmae and Osman. Through diligent effort and the will of Allah, Catherine was saved from the clutches of death, and brought back to the plains of man. As the night grew older, the brigands soon returned with another captive to make a show of, Constanza of the treacherous land of Savinia. They did to her as they did to Catherine, stabbing the woman in the stomach and leaving her for dead. The kafirs had brought a small army, and stood upon the shores of Al-Haybah. Clad in silk black turbans and scale armor, the ghazi warriors emerged from their homes, donning shamshirs and bows, and preparing to storm them, but a voice echoed out from the depths of the city. The Qa'id, Saeed, stepped forth, his hand raised in his proclamation. From the towering walls of Al-Faiz, he challenged the bandits to a duel. Their best warrior against him. They raved and laughed, for the men deeply cherished their reputation. Certain of victory, the bandit stepped forth, with his longsword held in an ox-ward stance and his body garbed in full plate armor. From the gates Saeed appeared, dressed in shepherd’s clothes with his shamshir at his side. From the partitions the ghazi could be heard chanting, “Martyrdom or Victory!”, as Saeed dueled the bandit honorably, and proved victorious in battle. The Qa’id spared the bandit, and the two groups went their separate ways. Soon after, the mujahideen converged upon Constanza, her body cold and lifeless upon the sand, a small pool of blood surrounding her. I made my way through the crowd, lifting the woman in my arms and bringing her within the city. She was ushered into the medical bay, as the Qalasheen medics and myself did the best we could to close her wound. Seconds longer and she would have died. By the grace of Allah he showed mercy upon the Savinian Royal, and through the Sultanate’s diligence she endured. Throughout Constanza’s recovery, she was kept safely within the medical bay, with medics provided to her each day of the week. She was additionally provided food, water, and other necessary commodities to make her convalescence swifter and more comfortable. Upon her wound healing completely, she was safely escorted by guards back to her home in Thyra. Let it be known that beneath the endless arms of Allah, mercy shall prevail, whether it be enemy or friend, Allah’s grace is immortal and impenetrable. Long may those who fear him prevail, and those who do not seek out his justice, Allahu Akbar! Written and Penned by, Yusuf Ibn Tariq Al-Muahid, Royal Scribe & Keeper of Knowledge in the Sultanate of Korvassa,

”It’s about time the people of Savinia recognize the Sultanate’s claim over Korvassa.” Yusuf wrote.

@ibraheemc2000 Thank you my friend for bringing the community together during Ramadan and making these posts each year! Ramadan Mubarak!

Ramadan Mubarak!

MC Name: Quantumatics RP Name: Yusuf Ibn Tariq Market Stand: No Fish Slapper?: Yes Master of the Catch?: Yes

Eric Onfroi places his newly cleaned blade into his scabbard, resting his palm atop its pommel. “Prepare my armor,” he orders to a squire, who rushes forward to polish the large half-plate set of armor, “I have a tournament to win.”

Septimus removes the missive from the wall, reading it swiftly before folding it into the deep layers of his coat. He glances to his son, Hadvar, ”It is time son, the future of our alliance is at hand. It is high time we discuss.”

Septimus smiles heartily at the letter, roused by the words penned masterfully by the good Duke Godric. “We fight for our people, and our autonomy! Death to the Haensemen, and to the Orenians!” he declares, his chalice spitting Mead from every direction as he slams it on the table.

Septimus watched contently, his longsword stained by the blood of three men he executed. “Today is another day for our people,” he declared- now known as Septimus ‘the Butcher’.

Septimus stared out at the Rusted Sword that hung on the wooden mantle, reminiscing on the monster he and Tovelm may have released upon Arcas.

Narthok, you have proven yourself both a good friend and a good advisor and we won’t soon forget your time on the server. Hopefully the admins will take your insight to heart. Never Forget ?

Septimus returned to Morsgrad, his sword staked up against his pauldron. He entered the battle certain of victory and left reaffirmed with glory, marching alongside his brothers and sisters in arms. He looked forward to taking off his blood lathered armor and washing down a warm cup of mead, for he knew that this day belonged to the Alliance, and to him. Be it Orenians or Haensemen or Reavers, Septimus was certain none could match his strength and cunning. “Songs will be sung of this day!” he declared as he entered the city.

Septimus chuckled as he left the bloody battlefield alongside his fellow soldiers, ”It’s good to know we’ll always have a piece of the Haensemen at the soles of our boots!”

Septimus raises his glass to the toast, and accepts the Moniker of ‘the Stalwart’. As the man who lead the negotiation to free the Grandaxe’s from enslavement, he is glad to know conflict could be averted. “This feast will be one of glory, a symbol of prosperity and the evident possibility of peace between our two people!”

Septimus lead the charge, alongside Alaric, the two were the first to infiltrate the palace and retaliate against the attackers. “It’s been a pleasure Alaric, you show much potential!” he says, lifting up his glass in celebration of their victory.