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Tiresiam

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Everything posted by Tiresiam

  1. Yeah Burnsider did such a great job writing this
  2. In my opinion this shouldn't be allowed. I've seen too often now during times of conflict on lotc people trying to force or peer pressure others by shaming them into a PK even when they abide by the rules. If the person IC cannot be aware that they died, and that they have no memory of it then why should other people be able to hold onto their prior corpse and wave it around in their face? It promotes poor role-play and OOC bullying and I think this should be looked at again because this is the sort of thing that Staff should be in place to prevent and not endorse. It would honestly be better if death was final and there were no monks to revive someone because it removes the problem entirely. As a community we should really just pick one instead of just fence-sitting.
  3. "An honourable man, who I could not protect. Another good man lost to tyrannical Lords turned from the light of God's compassion." Spoke Robert de Bourdon, lamenting the most honourable of Holy Knights.
  4. "By that is holy in this world, let this process not be defiled by earthy men and bulging hubris." spoke Robert de Bourdon, shaking his head and signing the lorraine.
  5. "When you can't beat em, do what works and slaughter all of them instead." notes Recruit de Capua, releasing his bloody sword from out of a the now readily disposed corpse of a holy man in his stained frock.
  6. Richard Helvets smiles the sun's smile as his loyal compatriot joins him in the skies above. He was at peace now, and could refrain from the mortal hatred of those who would seek his destruction above all human decency.
  7. Rocco Stiletti de Capua begins to sharpen his blade after reading the missive. "Deus Vult."
  8. "Whatever the mood of the masses at large the mood of the music is the only thing I guard." de Bourdon offers, readily picking up a pitchfork to go slaughter some gnostic heretics to some vining tunes.
  9. Glad Wesley still has his videos up; memories from when I was still a kid that I'll never forget.
  10. Monsignor Robert de Bourdon strode into the tent in his full glory, the sweat heavy on his brow after having rode through the hot-climate outside the bounds of the tent; a cold shelter from the scalding heat outside. As he sat down and heard each topic he'd give his opinion in good time. "Much of these things we discuss are of little import, clerical in a sense that does not apply to the theological nature of our fair church, administrative concerns. I am obliged to offer however and agree with the following proposals which I will annunciate for you my brothers of the cloth in the following terms: I, III, V, VI, IX. These without stipulation deserve our Pontificate's assignment, for the bureaucratic element of our positions need not be debated endlessly. There are some too that I agree with under scrutiny however: VII and of course X through to XIII. On the matter of VII I personally believe it is a mockery of our dear Church to express the decrees of those below the station of our Pontificate in terms which should be preserved for the Holy See alone. A Papal Bull in any form is the distinction of GOD's chosen, not his subordinates. A defined term is fine, appropriate even, but there should be no more a 'Minor Bull' as there could be a Bronze or Silver Bull. There is one decree alone that may be considered as such and it belongs to the words of the Pontificate itself. To the final and most specific of avenues all except the Vicar Lemuel can be argued for he is of very suspicious origins, I do not agree with my colleges on the subject of de Reden. Folk are quick forget that he fought in the War of Two Emperors as a soldier of GOD, that it was he alongside Sir Commodus Marna in Ves who were crusaders dedicated to the Church at that time and bore Owyn's flame upon their breast as they brought justice to the schismatic Renatians of the time. On the subjects of XII I must disagree heartily with the inclusion of John Kovacs of Carnatia at all. Do not forget brothers! Our histories! For it was he who went with the orders of the Emperor to Istria and put an entire pious village of Alsace to the torch, there the family of Falkenrath and their kin were butchered and put to Martyrdom! Perhaps in his stead Augustus Falkenrath, proud priest of the Canon who was captured and killed after surviving that event in the pages of the Everardian period." "My final word to you brothers is one again of unconditional support, a positive note here before I let other man speak within this delegation: I fully support the Canonization of our long held Luciensport Crusaders. Vytenis was a great companion to the Pontiff Everard II, as all of the Black Cross were in those ages. None are more deserving than they, except maybe the good King Andrik Vydra. Our Pontiff Everard II of yore is a well-known figure in our history, the progenitor of a Golden Age for the Church, who raised to glory much of the figures venerated on all levels in the Canon today. He was the son of our dearest ST. EMMA VLADOVIC. He taught the likes of ST. JOHANNES OF AESCULUS and ST. MICHAEL OF CORDOBE in their piety, HIGH PONTIFF ST. SIXTUS IV and Bl. High Pontiff Daniel II were his mentors when he was simply Edmund de Montfort. When all were slaughtered in the Redmark Massacre he alone survived and was sped along by GOD to give account of the slaughter to the King and the Pontiff, he jumped from the top of the castle and outran then men who gave chase. When his Cathedral in Brelus was sacked in the War to come he remained there in that place of God burning alive trying to extinguish the flames until he was dragged out by the skin of his teeth, the LORD saved him from the flame. That was before he had even attained the Pontifical Throne, when he ascended he brought forth the first idea of Canon Law in the Exalted Codex, gave our faith it's first settled and truly independent Holy State. Crowned and supported the first Horen Emperor since the days of Exalted Godfrey. In Luciensport the Archaengul Michael came down and asked aid against his brother the Aengul Gabriel. There is no more holy a man that we can all agree has attained his place among the Holy Calendar." de Bourdon then sat back down like a good boy sealing his speech with a nod
  11. Signing the Lorraine Robert de Bourdon gave a silent prayer "Here, the Lord spoke 'O Owyn, Son of Godwin, Son of Horen, you spill the blood of your uncle in the tabernacle of Horen. Even as My holiest city was sacred in spite of Harren’s rejection, it is spoiled by the blood of kin. You betray man with your wrath, and once again Horen’s sons are divided.' And Owyn cried out, 'O Lord, forgive me.' And GOD spoke again. 'That which is done is not undone, for the lords of this land have seen your sin." "All now can see this man and his folk for what they are, A Cardinal and his thugs who desire to become murderers instead."
  12. Robert de Bourdon after returning home from Providence signed the Lorraine. "Hail to Bl. Seraphim for he has breathed new life unto our Owyn III!"
  13. Robert de Bourdon now released form the infirmary still felt the kiss of the bolt, a pain that stretched down the length of his arm and up his neck. Though it was removed and well wrapped the protestors had taken their toll upon the young Deacon, Monsignor by the Grace of the Lord. He had much to prove still, but still felt with pride that he would find the answers to his worldly questions through the ways of the Holy Church.
  14. Comes a time when the game runs up your patience and stops being fun, so it's always a good call to have some time away and come back later to see if things spark the same inspiration or nostalgia. It's an awful painful thing when a hobby turns into something so stressful, it genuinely sucks. That in mind best of luck and take care with everything.
  15. Robert saw to the recent publication, approving greatly of it's message, "I too saw an apparition upon the election of our dear Pontiff Owyn III. I envisioned my dreadful betrothed; the terror of whom inspired me to flee beneath the cloth her hideous wroth was so great. An ugly aspect of St. Catherine who in her life also lured men of faith from the Church and unto the marriage bed. It is the work of these snakes that is so akin to the hubris of her carnal hubris. They wish to pull the faithful from centuries of fair and pious tradition and unto the den of the Daemon Iblees." In his words were a hit of jest, yet wound in too was the young boy's faith which he so plainly wore upon his sleeve, "These folk may contend what mortal actions they wish, but I know in my heart it is not the BLESSED who dissuade a man from his natural decisions. That can only be defined as the work of Iblees himself. GOD lies in the moral good of our own frail countenance, the fabric of our being, NOT questionable warnings of the Damned."
  16. “Do demons have a speech impediment?” pondered Tiresian as he looked over the missive, as his gaze fell on the former Sultan’s name.
  17. Tiresiam

    Tiresiam

    The charlatan Tiresian began his life just a hundred years before now, a blink in the eyes of any elf; on the road to a pair of merchants who travelled the Kingdoms of Man and sought payment in their rug trade. He was not the first son, but he was the first to survive infancy. Given the progenitor curse placed upon Malin, his parents had tried thrice with only himself to show for it and that heartbreak was worn well, at least by his mother. He was a spoiled boy, entirely rotten, and he took pleasure in sneaking from his family’s caravan at night to attend bars on the outskirts of each city they traveled to. In each he would learn his craft, cheating patrons blind of all the coin they had; telling stories to other children mere street rats compared to him. Yet they were absorbed by his tales and his middle-class stature surely did him some favors in convincing them of his quests. Yet as the world turned so did the craft of his parents and their fortunes turned ill. In time he was left on his own and he like those children began to adopt a far more meager living. He lost his sight, his sanity, poverty degraded upon him; the cold of the street corner or the filth of a muddy ditch. The elements picked away at his body and soul as he continued on the road. He began to rely on those tales he told, and on some occasions they even became true. But he could only guess the cause was simple luck. His aesthetics were completely bogus, fabricated, but people believed well enough in wild gods and ancestor spirits and so his fame grew as a prophet, If only that put food in his hands. (For clarity the central concept is that he’s a blind guy pretending to be a godly prophet for $$, he doesn’t have actual powers or know any magic. He’s just a crazy guy pretending to be a priest for free stuff.)
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