Javert

A certain Anton Barclay stroked his magnificent beard as he read the missive from within the frozen north of Almaris. He had little to no knowledge of the goings of his cousins, hell half the time he used the missives as campfire fuel, but for once he stopped to read. After finishing, Anton reflected on his life as he knew it. He was still somewhat young, he could still make a name for himself. Come home, be a better father to his Son, contribute to the family. Finally, he reached a conclusion as he rose to his feet. "By Gott, Ich am coming home."

Ragnvald Eiriksson Ruric marks the date and plans to bring his immediate family. ( @wowsirss @Rattussmackus @Direswift)

Devan Bishop smiles proudly from the Seven Skies as the family he founded is recognized as a Waldenian Elector. "Du see, mein sons? Our descendants are not so bad! Gott bless the Waldenian people!"

"Does this mean that Blackvale is Renatian?" says a confused but not upset Javier de Pelear.

"Viva Arenisca, Viva Urguan! The Orenians cannot handle proper bravery without turning and running, it is fact" said Javier de Pelear as he took a sip of Hyspian Tequila!

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"Sweet Victory." commented Baron Javier from inside Arenisca!

OOC Warning: Self harm, Attempted Suicide, and other disturbing images are described in the following post. If any of these bother you, I highly recommend you click off.

Javier de Pelear nods his head proudly upon receiving the missive from Urguan! "Viva Arenisca! Viva Urguan!"

"The effort made to preserve the Peace of God is admirable, yet sadly unrealistic. Even so, my respect for His Holiness has risen due to his efforts." reflected Javier de Pelear, whom had just earlier declared his support for Urguan in the coming wars. "I do not wish to defy His Holiness nor the will of DIOS, but I will not stand down in the face of war with the Holy Orenian Empire. Canonists have shed each other's blood and sadly will continue to do so long after we all have returned to the Seven Skies." He said, making his way to pray in the Areniscan church for DIOS to save his soul after uttering the words he had said.

The Baron of Arenisca grins upon seeing the missive from within the walls of his city. He then turned to his two daughters and looked upon them with pride in his eyes "Mis hijas, it is time you began your collection of wigs." @Rattussmackus @ohbother1

Javier de Pelear sips his Areniscan Tequila comfortably from within the Barony of Arenisca, a loyal Urguani vassal. "I cannot speak for the rest of the non-dwarven vassals that live under the rule of the Grand King, but I can safely say that we here in Arenisca have been treated with nothing but kindness and fairness."

"About time, M'Lord." said Rolf the Peasant as the demands were read aloud in the square of Myrine. A proud smile formed over the Farmer's face as he went to prepare his Myrinian armor for battle.

Camp Argos, established circa 52 S.A As the cold snows raged on, the Skanarri huddled around their campfires scattered across their new encampment. Many were used to the cold, but this winter seemed to be harsher than usual, and now the Skanarri were living in perhaps the coldest part of Almaris. They had travelled just North of the Kingdom of Haense to settle the Ice Spikes region, hoping to use the natural defenses to ward off any foreigners from coming to disturb them. Most Skanarri were quite over with seeing people they were unfamiliar with, and beginning wars they couldn't win. Even so, on the northern coast of Almaris did the Skanarri stay. The land was rather flat in this part of the biome, and there was an ocean nearby, perfect for fishing. It didn't take long for the Skanarri to capitalize this, and often sent Skanarri in teams of two or three on small canoes to fish for whatever they could catch. While it helped their food supply significantly, it still wasn't enough to feed the entirety of the leaderless Skanarri. Fights often broke out over food, and still families went hungry for days on end. Soon, a meeting had been called by the surviving Elders of the Skanarri. "This 'as to change. If we do not act soon, we will all fade into nothing!" said Koll to his fellow tribesmen as he sat with his axe in his hands. "How? We 'ave no leader, our clergy are either slain or old, an' nobody's dared to become the new High Chieftain." said Darkar as he glanced over to Koll. "Admit it, our people're focked." Koll glared over at Darkar as his grip on his axe tightened. "Don't tell me ye've given up hope. Don't tell me yer a coward." Darkar stood abruptly and went to strike Koll across the face with his closed fist. "It's the truth, Koll! An' don't ye call me no fockin' coward." "If yer jus' goin' t'give up hope on yer own people, then yer jus' as cowardly as one o' those Southerners." said Koll as he stood up slowly and spat out blood, glaring at Darkar with his one eye. "If ye or anyone else'll not take up the mantel of leader, I will." "C'mon then, prove yerself!" Darkar demanded, going to grab his shield and axe. "Y'think our people're savable? Fine. Let the Gods decide then!" he declared as he banged his axe against his shield. Koll's teeth gritted as he gripped his axe in both hands, and soon the two men began to pace around each other. Koll could see other tribesmen begin to gather around to watch the commotion, and he soon made a choice within his head. Upon releasing a great warcry, Koll charged Darkar and brought his axe swinging towards his foe. The duel began as Koll's axe struck Darkar's, and immediately he followed up with a kick to Darkar's shin. Koll's opponent was quick to retaliate, and managed to whack Koll's jaw with the butt of his axe. Koll stumbled backwards as he went to feel his jaw. It hadn't been dislocated or broken thankfully, but Koll didn't have time to think as Darkar rushed forward and brought his axe swinging down towards Koll's head. Koll brought his axe up and managed to catch Darkar's axe in his own, and sent a kick at his foe's chest. By now, the Skanarri had formed a ring around them, all calling for blood to be spilt. Even so, Koll payed no mind to them and began to advance on Darkar. "C'mon Koll, y'know ye ain't worth shite!" roared Darkar as he swung his axe towards Koll's head. It would be for naught as Koll ducked beneath Darkar's swing, then bringing the head of his axe up towards Darkar's chin. The sound of bone snapping and the gurgled grunts of man resounded as Koll's axe buried itself into Darkar's chin. Darkar attempted to take a step back, but Koll persisted and burrowed his axe deeper into Darkar's head. Koll's foe soon fell to the floor, and a minute later, the life faded from his eyes. As Koll stood over the body of his slain foe, he turned to look at all who had gathered. The Elders present nodded their head in approval and approached Koll. One of the Elders soon spoke upon approach. "Koll the Shieldsplitter, ye 'ave defeated yer foe in the traditional Bardagi trial, a foe who sought to oppose yer rise to leadership." The Elder then turned to the others, one of whom carried an empty bowl. The Elder wielding the bowl approached the fallen body of Darkar, and proceeded to hold up the body whilst placing the bowl beneath it. After the bowl collected a significant amount of Darkar's blood, the Elder retrieved the bowl and lowered Darkar's corpse back to the ground which it had laid from. The Elder then approached Koll, dipped his hand into the bowl, and rose his hand up to Koll's face. "In the sight of the Gods; We, the ones who carry out their will, proclaim Koll the Shieldsplitter the new High Chieftain of the Skanarri people." The Elder then placed his bloodied hand on Koll's face, leaving behind a red hand mark on his face. Koll himself remained silent, still wielding his axe that dripped with his fallen foe's blood. All around him, the Skanarri began to chant aloud as they surrounded their new leader. "Koll! Koll! Koll!"

Ragnvald remembers to actually make a damn application for once. Name: Ragnvald Eiriksson Ruric Race: Human Highlander Age: 23 Notable Feats: Yes Current Residence: Eiriksgrad (OOC) MCName: RagnarAKAJavvy Discord: you have it

Ragnvald recollects that this is a sketch that was given to him by a witness of the man, and it is quite frankly the closest that was able to be obtained to a description, despite how useless the information. Regardless, he shrugs and goes to sharpen his blade

WANTED: Attempted Kidnapper Distributed the 5th of The Grand Harvest on the 51st year of the Second Age from the Thanedom of Eiriksgrad TO ALL DENIZENS OF NORTHERN NYRHEIM: It is of the utmost regret that this missive must be penned. Just a Stone Day ago, a man of unknown name, origin, or race attempted to abduct the young daughter of Prince Ragnvald Eiriksson Ruric within the Kingdom of Haense. Thanks to the help of local Haeseni, Princess Astrid was retrieved and returned to Norland without major harm done to her person. Even so, this criminal has managed to slip from the grasp of Norlandic and Haeseni authorities, and must be brought to justice as soon as possible. Below is a sketch of the Kidnapper. The reward for the capture of such a man shall be a total of 100 mina. It should also be specified that it is of the utmost importance that the criminal is brought to Varhelm Alive so he may stand trial for his crimes and be punished according to Norlandic law. All-Father bless all who seek to bring this man to justice. Signed, Ragnvald Eiriksson Ruric, Prince of Norland, Thane of Eiriksgrad

When will you play an Areniscan

A Call for Chiefsmoot Issued the 11th of The Amber Cold, Year Fifty of the Second Age A Call to King Vane: Not since before the War of Three Kingdoms has there been a gathering of the chieftains and vassal leaders to discuss and suggest what could be done within our beloved Kingdom of Norland. Stranger enough is it not to see one of these gatherings now during the continuation of the war with the Svarlings. Therefore I, Ragnvald Eiriksson Ruric, Thane of Eiriksgrad, wish to call upon King Vane to summon all the Chieftains and Vassal Lords of Norland to discuss the threat that these invaders pose to our Kingdom. I, among many who live in the furthermost lands of Norland, have reason to fear this Svarling threat. They have already annihilated the Skanarri and may soon do the same to Varhelm, Eiriksgrad, and any other residents who call the far north their home. For the lives of those at risk, and the threat the Svarlings pose, I hope that the King's Council may see the necessity that a Chiefsmoot may have in our current times in order to discuss what should be done publicly. Signed, Ragnvald Eiriksson Ruric, Thane of Eiriksgrad

"Forever Standing!" roared Henry Bishop from the Seven Skies as he watched his son proudly.

Antonius Barclay sips some tea from his room in Reinmar "Wasn't Keorn the dwed who staged a rebellion in Sutica? huh...it almost seems like warcriminals who aren't put to justice will do radical things once freed."