Gambit

"Sympathy for the Skavik Devils." The young raider muttered to himself, huddled into a Skavik long boat, brandishing his blooded woodsmen's axe

GODS HOOD MOURNS. ________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________ ☨ "Today we lost a real one." High Pontiff Tylos III Goderyc, he Don Father paced back and forth, distracted, this wasn't his usual self... One of his fellow Priest passed him, of the Hood, of course, throwing up the Cross, he was slow to respond, unusual for the Father, he was contemplating; 'What was he to do once Vienne was raised to the ground?' a city he'd always know, running the streets since he was young, he was 23 now, but will he live to see 24? The way things is goin', he didn’t know... He was caught in thought, thinking of the Hoods future, his pupils, his followers, his homies- "Don Goderyc!" one of his streetmen suddenly cried out, running towards him, Goderyc turned to him, his sharp nose pointing down towards him, perking a brow, "Ops, they're here...!" Goderyc paused, being sucked out of thought, out of his future plans, he turned towards to face the only obvious direction anyone could enter on foot, drawing his crossbow, pointing it sideways, his mind raced... 'Petrans? Feds? Acrenans...? 'Bless ops from South-Side? Worst of all; Deaf people?' only the Don Lord GOD knew what ops awaited these hands once they came into sight, as more of the Don Fathers loyalist bolstered the front of their defense, civilians in carriages and on horseback fled the area, beads of sweat trickled down his face, he thought he heard something- No, he didn't, he turned to take a drag from his cigar, inhaling- "This one's for 'Blees!" Suddenly several passing carriage's doors opened up, bolts flying out from the doors and windows, a drive-by, as Goderycs men went to take cover, a bolt struck the Don Father himself in the shoulder, then in the leg, he screaming in both pain and anger, pulling the lever on his 'Bolt'Throwa,' his crossbow, firing a bolt into the direction of his ops, moving into cover, huffing some premium Haenser crystal to regain his strength, as he reloads and prepared to return bolts to these fools on his street, though as he did, he was struck once more in his thigh, bucking to the ground once more, he turned left, all his men, his homies... Dead... He hastily turned right, it was no better. He prayed, before opening a crate titled 'Exposyves,' shoving whatever he could grab underneath the garment he wore, looking to the remaining crack and other drugs he'd been peddling on these streets, muttering something only the Don Lord will ever know he huffed, he snorted, he took every drug that he could see near him as he lit a cigar, dragging from it before clamping it between his jaws, standing up he began to walk towards the ops who'd now had dismounted or exited their carriages, as they began to fire upon the Don Father, though he was struck, again and again, he kept walking. "I never met a man like him." Holy Ser David A bolt to the arm, another to his knee, he trudged forwards to these heretical ops, before another bolt struck his chest, as he fell unto his knees, the 'Blees ops approached what they believed to be his now corpses, as he struggled to move, he looked up to the approaching fools. "He was certainly, uh, a person." Cardinal Katerina "He cannot be divided nor made again, and His mysteries are the holy mysteries..." he coughed, blood spitting from his mouth, "No art is alike to His boundless ability.." he took the cigar from his mouth, still alit, he dropped it unto his chest, and in his last few moments of life, he gave on last sermon, "Lo and attend, for I am the Lord GOD, and I am in the foremost part of heaven... Though the spring flower withers and the fruit of the tree fall to the ground, My Word lasts into the eve of the world, and the fruit of virtue cannot rot..." He looked not to the sinners flanking all his sides, but to the blinding brightness of the sun, seeing what was only one thing, the Seven Skies... Reflecting on his life, he remembers only one moment, one defining moment... "A Father all the homies want to be like.." Unknown spectator The copious amount of explosive he had stuffed into his undergarment ignited, going off, taking these ops with the Don Father, in one last commitment to the Don Lord GOD.

[!] Æthwulf of Acre, 'Robynn,' thought back to legendary sketch way-back-when...

"They speak of their ineffectiveness, and how they will matter no in battle, yet then celebrated when they will not be in battle, as if it is a victory? Perplexing..." Robynn of Acre commented, already fed up with war. "I suppose, in the word of the half-men, 'this changes nothing."

"Big if true." Commented Robynn of Acre.

Robynn of Acre would wonder if this meant that the dwarven raiders would finally stop running away every time more than ten Orenians stepped out of the gate. Probably not.

-+- ______________________________________________________________________________________ The Company of Westmen, Dorfers, and other levies of Æthelred Medford. Æthelreds Warband. -+- ______________________________________________ We, today, Westmen and Dorfers who have tracked up and down the continent for many years since the dissolution of Arichsdorf, taking up work, or raiding the coast, come together now so we will raise the sword, the pike, the spear, and the bow against the manlets and their Haensermen masters once more. Fredrick I, the visionary, offered peace to this 'NATO,' a name in which itself shows that the Haensers pull the strings, for those who disagree, we must remind you that neither the half-men Urguanites and the terrorist state, Balian, are both in the south, continues to press on now Orenian soil. Even after the Pontiff of the Cannonist Realm declares it so they shall not. To the Orenian Monarch, we swear my life, as did Manfred. We have great admiration for the Harvest Lords, whom entrap us in reminiscent euphoric dreams of long gone home, the Orenian monarch, whom show us the greatness of new generation of Philip The Great & Manfred The Honorable, and of his Majesties reign. The Warband wishes only for these lords, this King, and the people, to live further in peace, rather than being drawn into war, once more, not has there been twenty years of peace in the continent, due to the sniveling warmongers who puppet and manipulate those possessed by hysteria. The hysteria of half-men, traitors, and Haensermen. -+- ____________________________________________________________________ The Warband prepares to be sent to war. ____________________________________________________________________ TO THE, Terrorists, insurgents, colonizers, and petty 'imperial prince.' BALIAN, hark for you care not for Orenians, for an Sons of Horen, like in the Brothers' War the realm knows no peace because of your selfish actions. What was the fate of Peter IV, and will it be your own? TO THE, Manlets, half men, invaders, and 'grand king.' URGUAN, hark for the Tripartite War, what was the rally of short men, for the number of soldiers under five foot was near smaller than that of your own vassals, which carry your military by far. What was the fate of those, albeit small amount of, soldiers at Lower Petra, and will it be your own? TO THE, traitors, goat lovers, dwarf lovers, and petty 'prince.' SEDAN, hark for the Urganite janissaries will no doubt once more serve their masters once more, less common sense for once overcome your people and surrender, and beg for mercy, for a dust storm kicks up more tumbleweeds than that of your levy you may muster. What was the fate of Leopold, and the 'Royal' Capital of Haverlock, and will it be your own? Remember Eastfleet, remember Southbridge, remember Stone Tower.

Æthelred watched a Haenser Monarch cope that they lost a bidding war, though, obviously, this would not be the only war they were soon to lose if they continued to act up.

Father Slim dawned a massive golden cross, his men and him confessing and praying to the Don Lord God, while they loaded crossbows for carriage drive-bys... "Sometimes ops gotta be put in line..."

ST, though I did not make open threats to shoot you in the head due to ScreamingDingos denial of the possibility of playable ratman, I still think that I created the conditions for open threats to shoot you in the head to be said. Me and my fellow rat enjoyers disown this extremist rat fan from our community of pacifist

Making it so Skaven- I mean, Skaven- I mean, Skaven- I mean, Ratiki are a playable race by players would open up more roleplay for those looking for a better villainy RP, alongside incorporating Ratiki's extensive lore and history into the RP itself. They make amazing antagonists already, however, they're only ever found in ST Events, hindering their effect on the world. Currently, the only time currently Ratiki are mentioned are in Musin apps, and from old Lucienburg (God I loved Lucienburg) post. Not much is really going on with my favorite sub-averaged-sized New York subway rats, and allowing players to, well, play them, would be an amazing rat revival. (Musin don't count) Letting us play the Ratmen instantly opens up several opportunities, that be plague spreading, pillaging in the name of the Rat Emperor, or scavenging and stealing for that loot to supply the Rat Emperor. Ratiki would make natural antagonist characters or interesting characters who struggle to survive in the rat-eat-rat world they live in. Their existence alone gives a reason to RP, both with malice or an attempt to separate themselves from that natural malice of their race. We can play giant frogs, slightly bigger mice, now give us the almaris subway ratman.

Lo, in the name of the Lord GOD the Most Merciful, Singular, and Omnipotent, listen and attend with pious heed to this inspired text. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ☨The Seperation of GODs Hood from the Canonist Church.☨ _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Father Goderyc, enjoying Hyspias finest crystal export, would walk to the Temple of the Eternal Flame, taking a hammer and his paper, hammering it into the door of the Temple, stepping back he'd stop and pause- Wait, damn that's an Owynist one... He'd shrug, taking his paper down, walking to Haense instead... _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ TO the frail Tylos the III. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ While you sit in your WEAK crib up in the north with yo, I slave away in Vienne, to a populous unreceptive to your preaching, maybe that's cus you weak and got no game? Huh, ever think of that, "Tylos III?" Bet you didn't fool. It is on this ground, I declare that the Lord GODS most honorable and collection of His Hoods - Otherwise known as GOD Gang, or Lords Hood, declare its appearance from the Church of the Canon and that its members not welcome in the Hoods of His Lord, though we, of course, know that you, Tylos III, would never have the gul to step foot in my, His, Hood. You'd sooner cut up with Iblees before putting yourself in danger in the name of any other than yourself. I wish you to recall when you offered me the title of Bishop in Rochefort, and I denied it, that's cus my crew is in Vienne, but you Tylos III, you have no crew. No heart. No game. So I encourage you best protect your neck the next time you and your weak drip even set foot near me, otherwise, you may find a banger in your double chins. You simply use the Holy Mother Church to make bank, not prayers. -Father Goderyc. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ THE DECLARATION OF THE SEPARATE HOODS OF THE LORD GOD. ☨ _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The HOOD rejects the false 'Blees infiltrated Church, clearly, his supposed Holiness has been infiltrated by 'Blees and his devilish crew. Those found reppin' the cloth of the Church will be dropped, cus it's on sight, Tylos. Thinkin' otherwise you're clearly wacked on some green. The Separate Hoods of the Lord GOD here declares as a loosely structured association of smaller street Chapters, known as Holy Hoods. Each Chapter will elect its own Street Father and generally operates independently from the others. A city itself may have upwards of five Holy Hoods, and these Holy Hoods may have large decrees of autonomy, with the ability to rage Holy Gang War against each other if a major diss is provided to the City Street Father. That is all I need to preach, gotta keep it simply for you, you know who you is, real ones already know. You got a problem, Tylos? Do somethin' about it then. FATHER SLIM OUT.

Unironically could add limitless new types of meaningful rp on top of looking dope. My wine vineyard dreams...

☨ An Open Plea of Assistance directed to his Holiness, Tylos III. ____________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________ And all others willings to make way to Vienne to assist us. "Evil the Lord will free him; Lord, we have trusted in you; free us from this plague. God, you are our refuge; because we have trusted in you, free me from this plague. Salvation: heal the pious, and the pious will be healed; save us faithful, so should we be saved." Amen. Your Holiness, in your recent visit to the Royal Capital of Vienne you witnessed the Great Rot's grip on the city. As the Hospital of St. Amyas's Sanctuary fills with ill, dying, and dead, we are overwhelmed by the disease, and though you yourself may claim the plague is divine retribution, the sickness has spread unto the pious and faithful, so it is now they die like the sinners meant to be punished. We at Metropolitanate of Providentia are understaffed, both clerically and medically speaking, we are losing the faithful in mass and their bodies must be buried in mass graves. I beg to you, your Holiness, send unto us more men of the cloth, more faithful who may help us save those afflicted, so these sinners may repent and forever serve the Lord God with their immortal soul, and so the already saved, pious men, may continue to do so. You yourself have seen the suffering on the streets, you yourself have worn the mask to keep yourself safe, you know our suffering, so it is now I ask you to send forth men who will assist in our salvation. ‡ __________________________ __________________________ The City of Vienne is suffering, and though, and the pious mobs who have followed me like any good man to assist in its healing, we are too few men amongst man. God have mercy on us. ‡ -Father Goderyc.

Free Build bad. For all the reasons listed above. But a more 'laxed settlement application process? Could be cool.

don't call me that