Javert

SONS OF THE REPUBLIC; CATACLYSM A Salvian Ranger attempts to escape in the aftermath of the Fall of Salvo, 279 S.A. Blood. The blood of the Salvian martyrs had run through the streets of the former Orc city of Ghorazad for hours now. Even now, Imperial and Idunian soldiers roamed the streets, looting what they could and dragging whosoever they could find from their homes to kill them on the spot. Quarter was not offered for the Salvians, but such was the price they knew they would pay for resistance. Fighting had died down roughly an hour after the Imperials had secured Fort Liberty and those who could not hide had begun attempting to flee with their lives and whatever they could smuggle. Percy Calhoun, son of the fallen Mark Calhoun, was one such Salvian. He hadn’t participated in the battle that destroyed his beloved Republic, but he had arrived in its aftermath in the hopes of retrieving his Father’s body as well as whatever arms he could grab from the fallen. Yet the presence of the Imperial and Idunian armies proved a great challenge - although Percy was able to locate his Father’s broken body on the bridge beneath Fort Liberty, he found that moving it without drawing attention was too difficult. A certain pain and guilt swelled in Percy’s chest. His Father was there, he could see him, but he could not retrieve him. All he could do was watch from a distance as groups of Imperials crossed the bridge from time to time, with some going as far to poke the bodies of the fallen to ensure they had expired. He cursed his apparent weakness in his head before disappearing into the alleys of Ghorazad to continue with his second task - retrieving weapons. “I will come back for you. I swear it, Father,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark alleys. Collecting the weapons of the fallen proved easier than collecting their bodies; swords, spears, axes, crossbows, anything that Percy could stuff into a bag discretely, he grabbed. Whilst turning a corner into another dark alley, he found himself seized by the arm and pulled into an abandoned house. The door was quickly shut and before Percy could react, a knife was held to his throat. “Salvian or Imperial?!” The hooded figure demanded, keeping their voice to a whisper despite the apparent fury. Percy sputtered to respond in his shock. “I- wh-” The knife pressed further against his throat. “Salvian or Imperial?” “Salvian!” Percy finally uttered. He could feel the knife ease from his neck as the figure shrouded in cloak and darkness rose to their feet. The knife was soon sheathed as a hand was outstretched to Percy. He readily accepted the hand, slowly rising to his feet while rubbing his neck. “Good. I’m glad I am not the only one.” The figure pulled back their hood to reveal their face; “Cicero.” “Percy Calhoun. Mark Calhoun was my Father,” Percy replied as he looked around at the quiet house. “If we two are alive, there’s more of us.” A pause settled over the room before he turned to look at Cicero. “What’re you gonna do?” The Salvian Ranger hummed in thought at Percy’s question, followed by a shrug. “I’m not so sure,” he finally uttered. “You could stick with me. The Salvian fleet’s untouched. If we can find a few more survivors to come with us, we could crew them and set off. Keep the Republic alive.” Percy didn’t quite know where this had come from, but it felt right to say. At least, to him it did. Cicero offered only a nod before beginning to crack open the door. “Maybe. But right now? I’m getting the hell out of here.” With that, the two parted ways without another word down their separate paths of the alleyway. Percy himself didn’t linger much longer. Once he collected as many weapons as he could carry, he began to quickly make his way out of the city as quietly as he could. In that time, he had managed to round up a few more Salvians to escape with him - though they traveled one at a time to limit their visibility and each carried two weapons that Percy had found. With most of the few Salvians he could find out of the city, all that remained was for Percy himself to exit. Slowly did Percy creep towards the gate beneath the cover of night with a dagger in his right hand and a crossbow in his left. The wind which blew so fiercely in the badlands had covered the sound of his footsteps, at least most of the way. Whether he was a second too slow or it was purely bad luck, an Imperial soldier caught sight of his boot as he ducked behind a house for cover. “Who’s there?!” The voice of the guard roared out in the windy night. With his spear braced, he began to approach the alley which Percy had darted into. His hands began to shake as adrenaline filled his body. He could feel his pulse quicken as he waited for the guard to draw near. “Last warning! Come out, terrorist bastard!” Just as the Imperial rounded the corner, Percy lunged out towards them and tried to jam his dagger into the man’s skull. Either the adrenaline had thrown him off or the soldier had been too quick, but the Imperial caught Percy’s stab by using his spear to block Percy’s forearm. Percy quickly tried to aim his crossbow for the Imperial’s ribs, only for it to be knocked from his hand by an upwards knee. With his hand free, Percy quickly made to slap his hand over the Imperial’s mouth to prevent him from yelling out. The two fell into a grappling match on the ground there in the alley with the Imperial’s spear quickly being dropped in exchange for a rondel dagger. The Imperial stabbed towards Percy's ribs, only for the blow to be just barely intercepted by chainmail despite the tip of the dagger still digging into Percy’s skin. A loud grunt of pain escaped the Calhoun before he pulled his own dagger back, grabbed its hilt with both hands, and used the whole force of his body to drive its blade into the Imperial’s throat. A quiet moment of catharsis followed. He was alive. He had survived. The moment did not last long as the dying whelps of the Imperial had mustered half a dozen more to begin converging towards the alley. With a frustrated scowl on his face, Percy grabbed the weapons he could from the dead Imperial and ran for the open city gates, just barely making it out undetected and into the conquered badlands.

Blood-Soaked Cowboy "I've been a fighter all my mis'reble life," spoke the Ranger as he mounted his horse with his spurs letting out a jingle as he settled into his saddle. "Ain't missed a fight for the cause 'fore, ain't gonna do it now. Y'go on and git, do something with yer life. Make yer Mamma proud." Percy frowned as he reached to grab his Father by the forearm. Mark turned to look at Percy with a gaze only few had ever seen. One of love, of gentleness. His Son's voice spoke wearily as if he believed he could convince Mark to stay with nothing but words. "Pa, what 'bout Mamma? What 'bout my life? Dontcha want to live to see yer grandbabies?" Mark only frowned and pulled his arm away from Percy's grasp. "Y'tell 'em their grandpappy died fer somethin' greater than himself. He died livin' free." With that, Mark spurred his horse away from the place where he and his wife had raised their boy. Mark wasn't a good man. He knew that about himself. He knew he'd lived a scoundrel, a bandit, and a maimer of his enemies. Even still, he bore no regrets. He did it for his country, his people, his freedom, and his family. If he couldn't live in a Republic of his choosing, he'd die by the sword of the men he had always lambasted as tyrants. Alas his end would be quick - A spear to the back of his neck killed him quickly enough that he did not feel the hundred-foot fall to the mesa ground, nor the breaking of his bones with the impact. And so the Salvian Ranger fell with his beloved Republic.

WAR The thing we as humans are all too familiar with. War is a cathartic release of energy when so much tension boils beneath the surface that societies of people have no further method to resolve their issues than the shedding of blood. Talks break down, swords are drawn, and ideologies clash just as much as armies do. We as humans are natural at it. It's what has shaped every society on earth, big or small, whether a humble city-state like Monaco or the modern hegemonies like the United States or Russia. When we look back at the wars that shaped human history, it's easy to view it from a lense which comes from our post-war circumstance. It's easy, for example, to go "Well, it was obvious that the Confederate States were going to lose the American Civil War. They had less than half the industry and population the Union did!" But for the people at the time of these conflicts whether it was the American Civil War, the Unification of the Mali Empire, the Risorgimento, or the Wars of the Roses, the outcomes were all but certain. Uncertainty is something that while in real life we as people tend to want to avoid, in media and literature it's the bread and butter of a good story. Take George R.R Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series for example. People who are first time readers (and who have somehow avoided show spoilers) have no idea that the Red Wedding's bound to happen until it does. They have no idea that Stannis Baratheon will lose the Battle of the Blackwater until it happens. Hell, most signs point to Stannis winning the Blackwater without the intervention of Tywin Lannister and the Tyrells. But why am I bringing this up? Lord of the Craft is not a geopol server. It's not a map painter. It's not a Total War game. It is advertised as a Fantasy Roleplay server where on the very front page it proclaims that you can, to quote it directly, "Build your own nation, learn and cast powerful magics - Become a King, an Emperor, a Wizard, or a Warrior. Your path is your own, what will you chose?" For all the jaded veterans like me who have played this server for five, eight, or even ten years, imagine yourself in the shoes of a newcomer to LotC like you once were. Imagine you see that and become filled with the hope of creating your own legacy on the server with your friends and leaving a lasting impact. A lot of what we see in LotC is new players coming in, thinking of starting something up, then quickly becoming discouraged due to how grindy it is to actually create your own nation, or even to keep your group alive without being slaughtered because you refused to conform to the server's primary religion while playing a human. Some of these are community-rooted issues, but to me personally it has to do more with the difficulty of actually getting your boots on the ground. To create a Realm on LotC, it is a whopping 25,000 mina and 40 (if I remember correctly) player signatures. Forgive my language, but what the ****? If I were a new player and I saw those numbers, my hopes of getting a group together to forge my own Kingdom would be immediately shot dead. There is the option of becoming a Settlement (which is still a crazy 10,000 mina and an admittedly more manageable 20 signatures), but playing as a Settlement has a lot of issues with dynamics that I'll dive into in a moment. To get any amount of mina over 5,000, you have to be someone who is wholly dedicated to grinding out mina, selling items, voting, maybe even robbing. What I'm about to say is not at all intended to be a shot at a specific group of people, but most casual roleplayers don't have ten hours a day to hop on a Minecraft server to grind those numbers. Most of the server's demographic are people entering their early to mid 20s, with a good minority group of both teenagers and maturer adults. While I can completely understand a teenager having the free time to grind LotC (I was one of them), people who are older or entering their adulthood just do not have the same time to devote to it. I myself am getting a job and will thus be strangleholded with my time soon enough. Think of it this way: You've just come home from a 9-5 job. You boot up your xbox to play Call of Duty expecting a few hours to chill and blow off some steam. First round you enter, you get bodied 20 times in 2 minutes by the same sweat who's got way too much free time on their hands. This is why they add skill-based matchmaking to these games which, although flawed in its algorithms, is meant to keep the competitives playing against competitives and casuals against casuals. Now obviously LotC isn't in the position to do skill-based matchmaking. You can't just exile the teenagers or no-lifers to their own half of the server where they just grind all day and truthfully, they play their role in the server dynamic, or "ecosystem". I wouldn't want them kicked out anyways. However, recently I have noticed that LotC appeals more to the competitive players than the casuals. Have a 9-5? Well sorry, you've been outpaced by 15 year old Timmy who now has enough mina to wage a death war against you. This has led to an unfortunately predictable cycle. The people who play LotC competitively outpace more casual players; they build the strongest realm, they conquer all the little guys, the biggest realm implodes because the competitive players get bored, repeat. This is not a callout against the Holy Empire of Man. This is simply a cycle that, with almost six years on this server, I've seen happen again and again. So how do we fix it? Simple: Make LotC less grindy. Instead of 20,000 for a Realm and 10,000 for a Settlement, bump it down to 10,000 for a Realm and 5,000 for a Settlement. In conjunction with that, make war costs cheaper. Get rid of the cost per player for individual warclaim types - It's ridiculous. It's only meant to punish big Realms for attacking little guys which, while some may say it's a good thing, it's actually a very very bad thing. All you need is to increase the cost of per-tile travel per-player to say 25 mina and you're good. Furthermore, give Settlements the ability to actually wage wars. I know the point of their existence is that they're meant to be a small Proto-Realm, but if you're worried about Settlements conquering each other, just restrict Settlements specifically from using the Conquest or Subjugation CBs and let them use the Pillage or Raid CBs only. What does this help, I hear you ask? Well for one, it makes it possible for the little guys to fight each other instead of just the big guys fighting big guys or 10 little guys vs 1 big guy. For another, it gives the little guys the opportunity to actually make a server impact instead of being eaten and forgotten within a year. I have always been someone who says that the best wars on LotC are little guy v little guy wars. Avistra v Drusco, aka the Margrave's War which I led and fought in last map, is a prime example of this. Just two communities of roughly equal size (if not one being slightly bigger) just fighting it out. What also made that war fun was its unpredictability. There were times when Avistra had captured the leader of Drusco and if we had managed to hold onto him, we could have won the war. There was a genuine chance for both sides, not just the one. I feel like the current war prices and Realm/Settlement prices just encourage and will continue to encourage big man v little man scenarios, which is predictable and overdone. This isn't a wholesale fix because I'm not an expert. I'm just a dude who wants unpredictable story elements where the ending can surprise me. I've been on the sides where I've won and lost - No matter what side I'm on, no matter who I'm fighting, I can firmly state that predictable conflicts are not fun. In conclusion, and to the Admins who may or may not bother to read this, just loosen up your grip on the server a little bit. Settlement and Realm bloat fixes itself if you give people the means to fix it; it's a moot argument. Don't be afraid to put the fate of the server in the hands of the casual and competitive players. Javert

Ser Meili Altwegg falls asleep upon getting home from the battle. He is nearly 100 after all.

GOD WILLS IT Issued from the Seat of House Altwegg, Under GOD and Empire Anno Domini 2074, 647.A.A. Deo Volente, As our joined wills, as Lord and Lady-Margrave of Avistra, we herein declare that per the decree from His Holiness, Caius II, that Avistra shall immediately begin the mustering of its levies, armaments, and other military equipment for the purpose of partaking in the forthcoming Crusade. Twas over seventy years ago that our union, joined beneath the eyes of GOD, was blessed by one of His own messenger Angels. Since such time, Avistra has been built upon strong values revolving around the protection of our Faith and upholding the sanctity of His word. It is therefore without question that Avistra shall march once again, carrying the banner of the Faith and of our fiefdom. All Knights are herein ordered to report directly to Lord Meili Altwegg himself, and all serfs of Avistra aged 15 to 60 are commanded to report to Ser Kestrel the Flamewrath for inspection of gear and fitness for duty. Once all forces are marshalled, we shall await the coming commands from His Holiness. The Most Honorable, Arya Elizabeth Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, of Hummingbirds Rest and Wing’s Crest The Most Honorable, Ser Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baron of Hummingbirds Rest Wing’s Crest, Knight of Avistra

The Margrave of Avistra, a veteran of many a war, prepares his arms for this holy cause. He finds his grandson, Ser Kestrel the Flamewrath, to speak to him. "Assemble the Avistran levies," he spoke whilst placing a hand upon his shoulder.

"I sure hope they made their carriages bomb-proof!" spoke Mark Calhoun, Attorney General of Salvo

"He spelled my fuckin' name wrong!" complained Attorney General Mark Calhoun

"You little shit." Remarked Ser Meili Altwegg as he read this portion of the missive.

The Order of the Wing Issued from the Seat of House Altwegg, Under GOD and Empire Anno Domini 2070, 643.A.A. The depiction of Knights of Avistra leading the charge in the Margrave’s War Deo Volente, As our joined wills, as Lord and Lady-Margrave of Avistra, we have determined that the people of Avistra shall be afforded due knowledge on the Knights and Dames who do wander our fiefdom and lands. These figures, knighted either by the Lord or Lady-Margrave or having had their knighthood acknowledged and accepted within the land of Avistra, are afforded specific rights and privileges within Avistra itself. Such shall be disclosed in full within the following missive so as to avoid confusion amongst the larger Avistran populace. I. On the Knights, To be a Knight is to be an especially privileged yet responsibility-laden individual. Founded by Ser Meili Altwegg in the years after the fall of Ivoria and the necessity for Avistra to stand on its own within Imperial politics, the early Order had consisted of Knights dubbed in the old Principate of Ivoria and those who were subsequently dubbed for their service in the Margrave’s War against the March of Drusco. Since such a point of the Order’s foundation, every Knight has been afforded the following rights and privileges within Avistra’s claimed and occupied territories; The right to fair trial and avoid undue prosecution, The right to demand trial by combat, The right to sit at the table of the Margrave(s) and offer their sound advice, The right to make arrests within Avistra against lawbreakers, The right to bear their own sigil upon their arms within Avistra, The right to carry military arms and armor at all times in both peace and war, The right to be chosen first as Officers of the Armed Citizenry in times of war, The right to take no more than two squires into their employ at a time, The right to, at the discretion of the sitting Margrave(s), request the dubbing of their squires past the age of 17. It shall thus be stated that the impersonation of knighthood within Avistra without proof of one’s dubbing shall be labeled a crime. The punishment for such an offense shall be for the offender to be placed within the pillory where all passers-by shall be permitted to throw stones until the offender has passed of their injuries. Proof for a true Knight’s dubbing shall come in the form of vouching by the Knight which dubbed them or, should said vouching be unavailable, a test of arms if requested by the sitting Margrave(s). Failure in either regard shall lead to the aforementioned punishment. II. The Renewed Ivöri Creed, The Order of the Wing and all Knights which fall beneath its banner must adhere to a certain level of chivalry and honor inherited by its predecessors within the Knights of Ivor from which its founder hails. Thus, the Knights of the Order of the Wing are expected to adhere to the Renewed Ivöri Creed, which is henceforth reinstated to be followed and enforced by the Knights of Avistra themselves. TENET I: THOU SHALT DEVOTE THYSELF TO GOD ALMIGHTY God is sovereign in all things, the beacon to which every path leads. To stray from God is to stray from humanity’s very essence, for He is the bedrock of Truth, Order, and all that is Good. TENET II: THOU SHALT DISAVOW CHAOS AND CHAMPION ORDER Everything is ordered according to God’s will, and follows principled standards, as that is the nature of God. God, being the ultimate Order, speaks order into chaos. To follow Order, therefore, is to glorify and reflect God. Be not given over to passion, but by reason make your move. TENET III: THOU SHALT LOCK SHIELDS IN KINDRED SPIRIT Your kin are bound not by blood alone, but by Honor, Faith, and in Purpose. Let each man beside you be as a fortress wall, bound to you in defense and respect. To the end, be Faithful to a friend. Serve your master with loyalty, and steward your servants with good will. Do not betray the bonds which are forged before God. TENET IV: THOU SHALT ACT WITH PURPOSE AND ABSTAIN WITH EASE Avoid pursuits driven by ego, vanity, or indulgence. To act solely for the sake of action is misguided, but discipline is to act in accordance with a will for Good. Exercise intention over impulsivity, avoiding hedonism as is Honorable. Be unyielding in the pursuit of what is Good, as in the persecution of what is wicked. TENET V: THOU SHALT MAKE THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE Be the force that does not waver, bearing victory at all costs. If you must fight, then fight with unwavering Purpose; if you must fall, let it be with all Honor in pursuit of Good. In the face of both victory and defeat, stand fast and keep Faith. Stand ready at all times, should the path demand sacrifice. TENET VI: THOU SHALT HONOR THE LAND IN WHICH THEE WALKEST The land is sacred; a sanctuary and steadfast refuge in times of strife. Honor its peaks and valleys, forests and rivers, for they provide shelter, sustenance, and guidance. Likewise, respect those who serve you as does the Land, who aid you with Intention. To betray such Loyalty is to betray the sanctity of the Land itself. TENET VII: THOU SHALT EMBRACE THE RUGGED HEIGHTS The richest soil lies along the mountain’s sharpest ridges, where peaks cut the sky and the climb is treacherous. Seek these rugged heights and master them in all aspects of life. This is the way of the master, to tread where others dare not, choosing the burden of hardship over ease. Pursue greatness in your destiny, and excellence in all you do. TENET VIII: THOU SHALT HONOR THE BLADE AND FORGO WITCHCRAFT Good steel shall never fail, nor disappoint. May your blade be borne with skill such that victory is without question. By sword and by shield, you shall persevere. The arcane is a path of deception, wielded to beguile the unwary and disrupt Order. Reject wholly those who turn to sorcery for power, for their soul is the price that is paid. TENET IX: THOU SHALT LOVE TRUTH As God is the Truth, so must you love the Truth with your whole heart. In all dealings be honest, as such is Honorable. Be not given over to intrigue and subterfuge, as the wicked do, but by the light of day make your move. For God is Light, and so what is done in Light is done with Faith in God. TENET X: THOU SHALT SUFFER NO EVIL Extinguish evil before it festers. Protect kin from the taint of corruption, and should it seep among our people, stand united to purge it. Never bear dishonor or unfaithfulness. In Righteousness, quell all iniquity without relenting. Make no peace with evil, and parlay not with the wicked. If all others falter, stand with God alone. Failure to adhere to the Creed shall, depending on severity, lead to the offending Knight either being stripped of their knighthood completely or made to perform quests of redemption in order to be welcomed back into Avistra with their privileges and title reinstated. Failure to complete said quests of redemption in the time provided by the sitting Margrave(s) shall lead to the offending Knight’s title being stripped completely. The Most Honorable, Arya Elizabeth Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, of Hummingbirds Rest and Wing’s Crest The Most Honorable, Sir Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baron of Hummingbirds Rest Wing’s Crest, Knight of Avistra

"Oh wonderful. Tell the peasantry to dress the best they can afford. I'll pay some of them to make sure everything is cleaned appropriately." Spoke Ser Meili Altwegg to his Wife and Co-Ruler, Arya Altwegg. He then descended into Hummingbird's Rest, the humble farming fief of Avistra, to see to preparations.

ABDICATION OF THE REX TO ALL CITIZENS OF THE HORDE, It has been 30 long years since I inherited the title of Rex from my predecessor Thrall. Since then, the Horde has seen many ups and downs, both from the Salvian-Horde War and the ongoing War of the Badlands. I will not claim I was the best of Rexes, but my efforts were the best I could muster from myself. This abdication is not due to the ongoing war itself, but due instead to various other culminating issues which have stacked together over my time as Rex. I seek now to spend time closer to my clan and kin, fostering the culture which I set out to revive in the Frost Urukhim. I call now for a Rexklamor to decide upon my successor. Once one is decided, I shall gladly hand the reigns of power in the Horde over to them. Let it be said now that my efforts for this war shall continue. I shall not give up my fight against the Empire until my dying breath. Torosh’Mak, High Chieftain of the Frost Urukhim, Chieftain of Clan Mak, Warlord of Lurakhan, Thralgar, Makh-Morok and Ghorazad, the Demonslayer, the Fire-walker

"Woah." Spoke Rex Torosh'Mak The long-deceased Vicente Murietta I, who had couped the Sutican government back on Almaris on the Barclay's behalf, screams into the void.

"Squire, prepare my Lance. It has been decades since I have partook in an old-fashioned joust." Spoke Ser Meili Altwegg to Kepha. @_FirBranch_A spark of excitement lit in the old man, who was determined to see if his old bones could carry him to victory in the tournament. "We ought to prepare a gift." He said to his wife @Plausifraunz

WONK PRESERVATION INITIATIVE TO ALL CITIZENS OF THE HORDE, I am a Rex who longs to see all races, not just the Urukhim, thrive. It is why I have allowed many a people to house themselves within the Horde. Over the years, some peoples have diminished far more than others. These peoples, whom I and my kinfolk hold a respect for, must be uplifted by whatever means necessary to ensure the continuation of their race. One such race, the Wonks, has been greatly diminished over the recent centuries. Their decline began on Arcas, and now on Azuras there remains only a very rare and endangered few. Driven to action by the close-extinction of this historic people, I, Torosh’Mak, Rex of the Horde, decree the following; The Wonks shall be classified as an endangered peoples. The killing or kidnapping of any Wonk is forbidden, and is punishable by death. A tract of land dubbed The Wonkawoods Reserve shall be deemed a “Wonk & Wildlife Reserve”, and its borders shall be guarded by the Horde of Many Tribes to prevent unwanted entry. Only Wonks and Urukhim workers in affiliation with the Wonk Preservation Initiative may enter the Wonkawoods. All others shall be arrested and, depending on the severity of the crimes committed in the Wonkawoods, fined or killed. The Wonkawoods Reserve shall not owe tax to the Horde. All Wonks and their tadpoles shall be given citizenship of the Horde as well as free travel within the Horde’s lands. The Wonks shall be barred from military service within the Horde due to their fragile numbers. Such a ban shall remain until the Wonk population rises to a suitable level. The Wonkawoods will have full rights to self-government, but may not dictate its own foreign policy. The Horde shall not interfere in the day-to-day governance of the Wonkawoods unless the Wonk race is actively endangered. Torosh’Mak, Rex of the Horde, High Chieftain of the Frost Urukhim, Chieftain of Clan Mak, Warlord of Lurakhan, Thralgar, Makh-Morok and Ghorazad, the Demonslayer, the Fire-walker, Protector of the Wonks