Fionn__TWG

Wilheim Barclay nodded as he read the document, having personally witnessed the execution. "Never easy to see one leave this plane - friend or foe. May GOTT have mercy on her soul, even if she deserved what she has received."

Kyler af Don II watched as the beheading was done, grimacing somewhat as it was the first time he had witnessed such an act. "His pants dry, gutt." he nodded then, using the broken common he was subject to using when conversing with other cultures. "He listen. Nicht know why fight with Adrian dog, but nicht better way to die than when serve loyally, Ich think."

"Gutt riddance." Wilheim Barclay remarked as he read yet another missive relating to the Adrian traitors. "It's about time these turncoats are cast out. GOTT willing her decision proves her downfall."

"Du are too honorable for ihr own gutt, vater." the aforementioned Wilheim Barclay cursed to himself as he read the misthve. "She has turned to the same men who kidnapped ihr blood. Such dogs should've been put down before their madness spreads."

Wilheim Barclay smiled as the missive was published, remembering his words with the Pontiff-Elect last Saint's day following the vote. "Einother Patriarch made Pontiff on Almaris. Truly ein blessed time." He then began praying heavily within the coming days, hoping that the new Head of Faith would choose a wise Pontifical name. Perhaps one inspired by recent predecessors...

"Kidnaps mein family while they mourn our cousin, und our countrymen fight those Mori they so love to claim are the true enemy. Und he believes ein horse will undo his slight." Wilheim Barclay remarked with a venomous tone to the servant who stood by, the man loading a crossbow within his shooting range. "It willI undo it when mein horse rams his down, und his body breaks under his hooves."

Tylos III stood beside Tylos II as they welcomed their successor to the Skies above with open arms. "Ein most worthy retirement, Adrian. Und nein better place to spend it."

"Let those cave men fear the Reinmaren, for we are the spear in GOTT's hand." Wilheim called out to his kinsmen during a lengthy celebration within Reinmar's dining hall.

"They say he ignored GOTT's call for him to murder his wife... he'll rot in the Void for that..." Tylos III muttered towards his previous acolyte Hector, who was now doomed to fill his glass with Reinmaren ale forevermore in the skies.

"It's written so well, it's as if Ich can see it!" Wilheim Barclay exclaimed to the nearby servants as once again his bard provided an excellent recital of the Reinmaren arts.

Wilheim Barclay peered downward towards the wound his left leg had sustained last Saint's day during the volleys of Velec. The pink tone of the skin surrounding it reminded the Duke of the many times he had witnessed the extremity in such a state, though each time, the same words he had spoken to the then Prince Georg those years ago rung out in his head. "It is our duty." The man continued layering himself in his armour, preparing to act it out once more. The cross he wore underneath the chainmail had never been more polished.

Wilheim smiled to himself as his works within his own Reinmaren lands continued, a bard reciting the work to him. "Even in times of war, Minitz never fails to make ein gutt tune."

Wilheim II reads and smiles "I love Minitz"

Do you have an explanation for Frymark's strangeness? (apart from his geographical position)

"It is always ein pleasure to see ein preacher of His word come to join Him in the Skies." Tylos III remarked as he welcomed Katerina. "At least two of ihr vater's kids has ascended in the end. GOTT knows the eldest is always the most troublesome." he quipped, a chuckle following shortly after as he turned to walk deeper into God's domain.

"Blood for Barclay." the Prince of Sutica stated to a servant who read the missive aloud to him, the man hard at work in refining his smithing craft. "Ein eye for ein eye may make the world go blind, but it ensures the lesson is learnt."

"They say Saint Tylos himself rode in on his white stallion to save Leon from certain death below..." Wilheim remarked to one of the servanta in Wilheburg whilst he had a bard play the song to him.

You know full well what the answer is.

a. Chicken wings. Barbecue, buffalo, any kind of them slaps. b. Shit as usual. c. Probably Fionn Castaway, I've gotten higher and achieved greater things on other personas but there's no beating him. He was the persona I first played when I joined the server, which I'd say was my favourite time to play back in January-August 2021, and was the one I enjoyed playing the most when he was my main persona (even though his backstory was retconned like four times). I honestly doubt I'll ever have a persona that I'll enjoy more than him. Unfathomably unfortunate. The absence of an Albanian-inspired culture on LotC is truly a modern-day tragedy. When you come back to the server.

Surprised at how fast the time has gone really, but it's been two years since I've stepped into the world of LotC. While technically I joined two years and a day ago, I properly logged on for the first time to be indoctrinated into the HRA on January 15th, 2021. While I joined this server as a sober, 5'6 16 year old with two fine hands during the beginning of one of Ireland's lockdowns, I now type this as a hungover, 5'6 18 year old with an absolutely banjaxed left palm (running home last night was not a good idea). During my time on this server, I've played quite a few diverse characters, such as Barclay #44, Barclay #72, and Barclay #85, as well as the ever-unique character of a drunken Irishman, and I've had my fair share of good, bad, and outrageously schizophrenic moments. While I definitely have not been on the server as long as others, I do feel I've had a very unique experience, mostly as an oppressed German minority in a predominantly Russian Kingdom. But now that I've reached my 2 year requirement and become an official Haenser :J, I thought this would be a good milestone to do an AMA seeing as I've always wanted to do one but never wanted to chuck one out for no reason, so ask away about anything really. Anyone who asks for my opinion of them is getting banned for a month.

What does the second e in Evonpire stand for?

"How does this possibly affect the Duchy of Shat's legacy?" Konstanz Barclay pondered aloud to himself, meanwhile a nearby servant would prepare a bottle of whiskey for the man. Having a Duke and Duchess of Shat pass in such quick succession would surely do little to help the title's trade value... truly a worthy topic for the Duke to ponder as he made his way to the nearest balcony.

The clock ticked in the office of the Barclay Bargains office, where Wilheim Barclay had spent many hours of late. An unfinished catalogue, lists of the current stock, as well as many diagrams of potential weapons to forge all lined the establishment's desk, though all works were buried under the missive announcing His Majesty's death. His eyes lingered on the words, though none went through to the man, his mind blank as he simply stared at the paper before him. Rather than words, his mind turned to memories of himself in the Morrivi's meeting room with the King, specifically the time his advice was requested once or twice. He never knew if Karl took the advice to heart or if he simply asked for the sake of it - Wilheim never could read the man, no matter how hard he tried - though the request from the ruler had done much to raise the young Duke's confidence after that day. Eventually, he then stood up, taking a bottle from one of the desks's drawers, labelled Duchess' Secret Whiskey. The cork was removed from the top before he'd open the window of the top floor, then flipping the bottle upside down as he allowed the contents to empty on the streets below. Whether he committed a crime or not, he didn't know, and perhaps it might not have been a grand gesture, but it was the only way he could think to honor his late liege in such a short time. The final drops of the whiskey were spared from a fall onto the streets below, and instead they lined Wilheim's throat. A grimace befell his lips, before he'd finally speak on the matter; "Wer Rastet, Der Rostet. Und GOTT knows du didn't do either."

"Duchess of Shat." Wilheim Barclay remarked.