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Viraj Dobrial

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    Viraj Dobrial#2186

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Archimedes DeFont
  • Character Race
    Human

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  1. A lone man stood alone in the courtyard of the Basilica. He didn't dare show himself while the man was being lowered into the catacombs. Of course, this meant he didn't actually know where Zand was. So he started walking. "I remember..." he whispered quietly, his voice barely echoing out of his helmet, "the other day at the tavern. You asked me... why I did 'all of those things.' And I never really got the chance to explain." Silent, again. The man scanned the area, hoping to see something - maybe the shadow, or a glimpse of blue just darting out from the corner of his eye. Nothing. "It was going to be so... grand, you know? I'd be there, knife to your neck, and before I drove it through, I'd go, 'Because I've enjoyed it. Every last moment.' Or something... stupid. Something else I didn't really believe." The man was not alone in that helm, as Arthur's screams still rang out alongside those whispers. "Bastards! Damn you all!" And whatever else he was trying to cry out through his melting flesh, as those cries were drowned out by manic laughter." "You got a lot done in your life. You died a good man." Zand had moved on. "You have everything I've ever wanted and more." Now he was out in that still bloodied field, outside of the city, outside his old home. He dropped a single cornflower into the ditch alongside the road. For all the dead had departed - but him.
  2. A burned man would pick up one such missive, looking over it while breathing heavily, the mockery of a smile twisting across his bandages. "I love Oran, I love Oran so much I am willing to give up everything I have for Oran. The thing about Oran that I love so much is the people, the people on Oran are some of the greatest and most loyal military and tea-party-goers one could ever ask for."
  3. Name: Hau'oli Kekai Momoa Age: 15 Place of Residence: Field of Study: [ ] History [ x] Social Science [ ] Natural Science [ ] Magical Studies Specialization: Anthropology OOC: Username: gamerdude09 Discord: Viraj Dobrial#2186 Timezone: EST
  4. “...it’s ironic, isn’t it? I can’t even lie to myself and say he’s forgotten. He told me himself he hasn’t.” The man would throw the missive across the dilapidated house; another board would fall down from the ceiling. At this point, there was a hole into the upstairs bathroom. A call came downstairs from the bath; it went ignored, as another groaned, shuffling out from the parlor. “Soon, Warwick. Soon.”
  5. De would take up the letter, tilting his head in confusion. "This seems like more of a problem of allocation. This man is selling to a market that doesn't exist. Though... I've never seen any mutton, nor pumpkins, nor anything of the like on the Auction House. Just... potatoes. So, so many potatoes," he'd say, shuddering." "...I should visit Redenford again soon. Maybe help this poor man."
  6. I can't believe Viraj Dobrial is basque

     

    1. Viraj Dobrial

      Viraj Dobrial

      i can't believe Viraj Dobrial is basque

  7. why the **** is there an 'attachment quota' and how do i take some of this **** down without destroying my original posts. goodbye tf album cover, goodbye geogaddi, etc

    1. monkeypoacher

      monkeypoacher

      ppl generally host images on imgur or something and then embed them I have never once used attachments on this forum

    2. Viraj Dobrial

      Viraj Dobrial

      based thank you

       

  8. 1) Archimedes DeFont 2) 43 years of age 3) Henry’s Wharf, 1
  9. Butchered Lobsters A depiction of Mother Mercatore, who blesses her children in and out of battle. Shabby, homemade posters would be plastered around Province. They all read as follows: ATTENTION, TO THE CITIZENS OF PROVINCE AND THE DENIZENS OF GREATER ORENIA: LET IT BE KNOWN that on the 18th of the Amber Cold, Year 28 of the second age, a dispatched scouting patrol of TWO (2) ISA gentry, one a Lieutenant and one a member of the Royal Guard, were easily brought down on the roads by a self-trained militia of highwaymen, including an agent of the MRA. These were not privates nor cadets, but some of the ISA's most revered, proficiently trained men. Let it also be known that the aforementioned Lieutenant received adequate punishment for their participation in the suppression of the Mercatorii people. Branded with the Lorraine of GODAN and carved down from his chest to his leg, he was taught an important lesson that will be broadcast among those seedless, barren minds that plague Province and Greater Orenia: The Mercatorii Revolutionary Army is not a group to be trifled with. Your highest officers have and will be continued to be disgraced by us, if not outright slaughtered. We never asked for the end of this ceasefire; Oren, in its pompous desire to maintain its 'legitimacy' as an Empire, seeks the dissolution of "undesirable" peoples and cultures, to be melted down into their identity. The Mercatore will not fall to this parasitism. VIVA LA MERCATORII! ERLOJUAK MESDE EGITEN DIGU, MERCATORE! There is no signature.
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