MasonMcBadbat

“Father Guide me” Aber had always heeded the call. When he was called forth to fight in the War of the Covenant, he had heeded his Duke’s command, fighting first at Koppany and then the disastrous Battle of Cordelia Woods. He had always been a soldier, as had his father before him. Duty before all, he thought. Thus when he was called forth to the White City alongside a host of Pétrines of the Commonwealth, Aber did his duty. Amidst the halls of Vissingren Castle did Aber prepare himself, donning his worn, if well-maintained plate armor. He could not help but smile, for this armor told the tale of his life. Every battle, every skirmish, every patrol of the Black Hills within which he had spent his life. In the city of Yulyeong Hosu did the host of assembled Nùmendain, Pétrines, Norlanders, Hyspians, and other allies against the dark find themselves. Aber rode amidst the retinue of Ivy von Theonus, Duchess-Consort of Vohenheim in the southernmost group. “The Demon-Felling Strategem Court” Aber remarked of the name of the street the southern host had found themselves combing. Then came the bomblets, dropped from the high roofs above. In spite of valiant efforts, there were too many to kick away. One after the other, small explosions rocked the street of the Strategem Court. Aber made no attempt to save himself, instead throwing himself into the task of clearing the road for the others who now found themselves wounded by the blasts. A split second too late was he, a bomb’s fuse running short by his leg, and thus he too fell to the ground, a sickening crunch emanating from his leg. In spite of this, he dragged himself to a barrel, propping himself up as he rained crossbow bolts into the rooftops above, defiant in the face of his injury. He would not hide, nor would he abandon his friends. A small victory, amidst a rising tide of defeat. More beings continued to push the southern group from the courtyards of the Demon-Felling Strategem Court. It was clear that at present there would be no easy retreat, each side street and alleyway found itself swarmed by the puppet-like beings which cut a swathe through the assembled host. Aber looked to his leg, mangled and broken. He saw the retreat happening around him, and with grim determination resolved not to impede it. Within his pouch was a potion, given to him some time prior. He knew what must be done, Allfather above preserve him. Mustering his strength he dragged himself to the middle of the road, and slumped against the crate which had been his bastion but a moment prior. Unfamiliar faces rushed by, yet he would die for they so that a second battle could be fought. Aber had little time to dwell on his decision before he found himself engulfed in those puppets which had just moments prior introduced themselves to the world. One final battle, one final act. In his defiance, Aber had become the Hero of Yulyeong. Countless hundreds would live on, and perhaps one day they would know his name. Yet they were alive, and that was enough for him. With the attention of the puppets upon he, did Aber shake his potion, priming it for what was to come. “Father Guide me” Thus fell Aber MitKase, Bannerman of the Black Hills.

Aber MitKäse walks a road just beneath the keep of Hohenheim. He's joined by a merchant from lands yonder, happy to receive an escort and willing to pass the time with stories of this place. "Y'know I've seen a royal house 'er two in my day-" Aber continued to ramble. "But that there-" He points to the keep above, where a blue banner blazoned with a white hawk waves. "That's a family."

Gansk received a hastily written letter from an old friend. I'm too old for this business! He'd mutter to himself. My brother however... Gansk would begin a short letter.

Sven would join his stewards as they took stock of the kingdom’s war supply. ”Come what may, we’ll be ready.”

Many blessings my guy <3

Sven welcomed the news of Krugmar’s arrival. ”And so the true fight begins. Let’s show this foe how an honorable klomp is fought. They will lie, cheat and coerce, and we will win all the same.”

1. The one thing I had trouble with as a casual coming in was the language. When I first started off as king I’d always need someone in the disc to translate for me. But that’s also kinda fun and different. Nothing felt similar and I’m always engaged at a Krug diplo meeting. It’s a hard thing to balance with pros and cons for sure. 2. Some really cool folks in leadership. With Masouri, Mikaelz and Pancakez I’ve felt like I’m interacting with stand up guys. Everything’s on the table, no beating around bushes. It’s a breath of fresh air. The community has been really solid too with Krug-Norland interactions. We just had a convo in Norland the other day about how Krug has been awesome with us and our events, and how we really owe it to them to return the favor. We’re hyped to bump up that interaction and I’d love to build it up in the ways you’ve mentioned! 3. The kind goon vibe is 10/10. I haven’t had enough interactions with the core community to see the issues others site, but if they are present, setting the example that good crits don’t excuse shitty behavior could really make the tone of the group shine. Big fan of Krugmar, cool cap build btw!

Reserved

And Yet. Dated 9th of Snow’s Maiden, Year 26 SA To take upon our shoulders the fate of this place. To march, unflinching, into those who would see you put to ash. To do these things demands an unyielding will. One that is tested again, and again. The peoples of this realm have faced trials beyond counting. Their fortitude tested through all manner of violence, coercion and treachery. And yet, our resolve endures. Now, as blood dries in the palms of our hands, we call out to the other. The legions of those like us, who are provoked time and time again at the hands of an empire undeserving of the name. Join us and make plain to these imperials; Respect our peoples, or be buried. Type of War Amendment War against the Holy Orenian Empire Attacker The Kingdom of Norland Defender The Holy Orenian Empire Attacker Victory Outcome Advance to Tile 71 Defender Victory Outcome Prevent advance to Tile 71 Location Tile 61 Time & Date Sunday, June 6th - 5:00 PM EST Contact Information Masouri#1431 & Mason#8131

Dear Valued Writer, Thank you for your correspondence. Your request is very important to us and will be responded to in the order it was received. Father Guide Us, The following would be stamped onto the parchment. Sven Edvardsson

Sven would begin drafting a summons of his best and brightest to aid Haense in their investigation. A man of such reason, cut down. We'll find whoever's responsible. We have to.

Sven would read the missive on a quiet night in the Ashwood Tavern. There has never been a people more worthy of protecting. Iron from Ice. With a nod, the man would rise from his seat and be on his way.

Sven lumbered across waves of grain, guided by the trampling steps of the man marching before him, mucking a path for the man to his back. His legs grew tired from the weight of his cargo, the foundations for the Elysian palisade. The sound of rock and gravel rustled all along the convoy as they advanced, one by one. Then, for just a moment, he'd glance off from his mission to the village below. He'd see the contrast of ash, blood, and disarray. The blood of a woman fallen just a day before, her ghost locked in the cracks and flats of cobbled stone. People met their end here, he thought. People. No renowned Northguardsman, finally meeting his end after a glorious life worth lived. No damned soul, guilty of crimes beyond counting, finally put to a rest well deserved. It was a woman. A woman and her kids. "Sven?" He'd shake from his thoughts to meet eyes with the man behind him. Alric, his trusted crownsguard, an Icathian, and a friend. Sven would pause a moment as he parsed the meaning behind his racing thoughts. He'd manage to convey just the one, speaking to his companion with a tone of certainty unknown to him all his days before. "In their haste for glory, they lost what made them human. That is a gash; cut deeper than our sharpest axes could ever hope to plunge." A moment. "I would not wish this on my worst of enemies."

To Redress the Slights A Declaration of War Issued Thirteenth of the First Seed, Twenty Second Year of the Second Age TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN, Since our settlement of this new continent just two decades past, the nations of the world have remained in a blessed yet fragile peace. It has not been without its turbulent moments, certainly, however peace it has been. But, peace can continue no longer. Despite our Kingdom’s multiple efforts to seek peaceful recompense and apology for the wrongs done against our nation and our people, the Orenian State has chosen to ignore our grievances. Despite their promises of diplomats and discussion, they have delivered neither, and have refused entirely to treat with us. And then, the proverbial final straw came within the past Elven Day, when a troop of men calling themselves the Sons of Horen planned a raid on the city of Varhelm by the order of the Pontiff and the King of Oren. These valiant men, of course, backed down following the discovery of their party in the Rimeveld, yet their flight availed them little; even still they were tracked, captured, and put down. Yet, this list is hardly exhaustive. Put simply, we have been given little recourse, and the Clans of Norland have made their desires known. Enumerated below are the most recent wrongs perpetrated by the Orenian State against the Kingdom and people of Norland: I. The unjust assault of a blind man of Norland at the hands of the Orenian Ministry of Justice, the sullying of his honor, and subsequent spreading of untruths about his actions and affiliations. II. The violation of Norlandic Sovereignty, and therefore the Treaty of Owynsburg, by way of planning and attempting to conduct multiple arrests and investigations on Norlandic soil without first negotiating an agreement of extradition. III. The violation of Norlandic Sovereignty, and therefore the Treaty of Owynsburg, by way of the conducting of espionage within Norlandic borders and attempting to bribe both Norlandic citizens and officials of the Norlandic military in exchange for information on the activities of the Norlandic Crown. IV. The failure and refusal to negotiate or even engage with the Kingdom of Norland in its attempts to mend tensions. When first these rifts between nations began to open, our King Halvar Edvardsson personally made overtures to mend the situation, asking a pittance for the man whose honor had been besmirched and a simple apology. He was refused and was met with insults from the room, the loudest among them being accusations of terrorism and the assertion that our people lack both laws and principles. Shortly after, the attempts at espionage and extrajudicial arrests began. Again, we sought reconciliation with the Orenian State, even as the Clans clamored for conflict. This time, our advances were ignored outright. It is clear that the Orenian state assumes it can ignore its own misbehaviors in the vain belief that their fabricated narrative of moral superiority will place them on the right side of history at the end of days. Unfortunately, for every wrong that is committed, there must always be a redressing of the balance. If it was truly peace they sought, perhaps they should have come to the table whilst they had the chance. The Clans have cast their votes, and their decision will be rendered; The Kingdom of Norland hereby declares an official state of war. If they will not pay for their wrongs in the currency of gold, then they will pay in the price of blood. Penned by, Arthas II Edvardsson-Ruric, Prince of Norland, Chamberlain of the Kingdom of Norland In the Name of, Sven II, King of Norland, Duke of Varhelm, Chieftain of Clan Edvardsson, Protector of Highlanders

Gansk Lamar MasonMcBadbat Norland