AstriaS

Rævna traveled home alongside her fellow members of the Ashguard, pleased with their victory of the day and with the trophies she'd collected from the field.

Sylvia Camian was quite pleased, once the rumor mill had circulated the story back to her. "Good to know the cannon was put to good use."

Rævna hummed an old, Svarlandic war song as she departed from the field with her Norlandic compatriots.

Velsyni Indoren, who was less than fond of anyone or anything with a skin tone other than a shade of grey, gave a frown of disapproval. But she also saw business opportunity so she turned that frown upside-down.

Far in the North, content in the holding she had carved out for herself, a Svarling woman sat and pondered the reconstructed city. "It would seem they have weathered the storm. First, they withstood Gorm's cohort, then these creatures they are said to have faced," Vikne stated, thinking aloud about the goings-on of the world. "Mm, indeed. They're a good, strong people." With that, she went about her day, and in the days that followed a peculiar gift would be delivered to the gates of the Fennic city; a cask of ale and the pelt of a wolf. Far from the bloody displays of days past, this was, strangely enough, a gift of respect. Meanwhile, a particularly annoying snow elf bard by the name of Vaeri did as she always did, and made up a rather grand story about all of her great and instrumental contributions to the reconstruction, including but not limited to bricklaying, drafting, surveying, sculpture and the tuning of a piano. In all reality, of course, she had been traveling, hadn't been anywhere near the city in years, and was practically too weak to pick up a hammer, let alone lay bricks. But she told the story nonetheless- even to people who knew she was lying.

Mera Camian's lips bent downward into a scowl, a most common expression for the woman nowadays. "Well, it was coming eventually, I suppose. At least he made a good story of it. May you find fair winds on your journeys to come."

I was honestly expecting a meme, but this is surprisingly well-written and a pretty neat concept besides. Well done.

I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks I hate wonks. That being said, I didn't have an issue with the meme RP. I just said it was a contributing factor to them dying out about 2 to 3 weeks after their launch. There were somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 Wonk CAs (this is a guess, I barely remember) made in the first week or so, and a couple months later there were 2 remaining active Wonk players, which eventually led, in part to their shelving. Just like now, when they came about, people clamored for them, and then they died out nonetheless. My main concern is that an attempt to rewrite them will just result in the same crash, and therefore be a wasted effort. But hey, if someone produces a good rewrite and it gets accepted? More power to them, I guess. And if they're actually successful this time around, great. I'll bee holding an 'I told you so' in reserve, though.

Speaking as someone who played a wonk, no. Stop this, let them rest in peace. They were fun for a week before getting run into the ground by meme RP and then they died out. Epitomic example of the phrase flavor of the month. edit: also they were stupid.

Laurel or yanny? Blue and black or white and gold? Pineapple on pizza? But most importantly: Lord of the Rings, but set in the 41st Milennium. Which characters are in the Fellowship? You can only choose 9 characters, no more no less. They don't need to fulfill the same roles as their counterpart, but bonus points if they do.

Sylvia Camian, a doctor (from a certain point of view), applauded the advances in medicine and prenatal care that had allowed such a conception to be possible.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Game_(mind_game)

Norlandic alchemist Sylvia Camian right-clicked the recipe. "This is just liked that time I stole that painting of a monkey."

Casimira, who was still quite offended following her most recent interaction with a High Elf, wrinkled her nose in mild annoyance. "Yes, well, it's a matter of spite for me, at this point. I didn't care a whit about all this 'princess' business when Vane made his statement of support or whatever it was, but then they insulted me," The incredibly petty woman hissed before then returning to stewing over a months-old slight that was, put frankly, an honest mistake on the part of the High Elf in question. Some people, unfortunately, are impossible. Mera Camian still didn't care either way, because she was still pretending that foreigners don't exist.

Sylvia Camian remarked quite simply, "Mother always did say Murdok was a wise one."

Rævna stood with a pint in one hand and a handful of betting slips in the other, and watched the action from afar alongside her Norlandic compatriots. "Yeah, get 'em!" She remarked, mildly upset that the powers-that-be had prevented her from attending.

Favorite of the day. I recommend The Dragon Prince, if you've not seen it. It's on Netflix. My High School spanish teacher once threw a chair into a computer, and then cried in the hallway for five minutes. Not the top favorite, but it's up there fs, along with the time I got drunk and woke up in the dorm building's laundry room wearing a sombrero.

An interesting day. In any case, this is my obligatory anniversary post. That's all. You just wasted a click to read a few sentences. Please shitpost below if you feel so inclined, thank you.

Mera Camian nodded a few times and set the missive aside. "I always knew those Icathians to be a good sort. Though, it does raise the question of who made that forgery... A topic for the historians to debate, I suppose." With that, she went on to more or less forget about the situation as she instead focused on building pyramid out of playing cards.

Velsyni Indoren made a point of reminding people- in casual conversation, of course- that the last person who tried stealing from her is now blind as a consequence.

Vikne Kjeldsdóttir gave out something of a jaded sigh, and set about preparing for a trip.

Seated comfortably somewhere in the far north, Vikne Kjeldsdóttir, a Svarling of quite some infamy, let out a quiet, thoughtful hum as the affairs of the South were relayed to her. "So, the land burns with the fires of war, and apparently we missed some of the hillmen when we put that hamlet to the sword," She observed, pushing herself to her feet and pacing about in the middle of the room for a moment. "Hm. I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on all of this." Casimira, meanwhile, was too busy color-coding and reorganizing everything in her bedchamber for the fifth time this month, and so didn't really take notice of the current goings-on. Ignorance is, in fact, bliss.

Rævna still thought that violence was the answer, and was quite disappointed that nobody agreed.

Mera Camian, who probably hates puppies and butterflies and candy, simply remarked, "I f***ing hate children."

Mera Camian sighed in mild frustration at the announcement. "I hate politics." Casimira similarly sighed in mild frustration, pacing about her office and mumbling to herself, "Why do we bother with foreigners? Do we not have better things to do?" Velsyni Indoren nodded a few times, not particularly caring but nonetheless remarking, "Hey, that's pretty good."