Fionn__TWG

Wilheim Barclay couldn't help but smile to himself as he read the announcement of his sister's wedding. Now he could be the annoying uncle to two future Kings.

Tiles should keep to being drawn according to surrounding features of the map. It's better to have a tile that encompasses a forest or a mountain than one that's rectangular and features five different ones. Looks better on any potential treaties to just say 'X cedes the Y Forest (Tile Z)' rather than 'A cedes the northern part of B Forest, the northern peaks of the B mountain range, and the C Plains which separate them' I feel for the soulstones, the two that people get to start should be kept that way, rather than an extra slot for voting or any other way. it helped in terms of making people work to get somewhere rather than be able to zoom from the north to the south to the east in a matter of minutes, plus it makes people travel more and gives more opportunities to settlements that may be set up on roads between a hub and nation to get potential new players. I feel like this would just be abused by any STs who might not like a nation for one reason or another, unless there were strict limitations on it. Otherwise it just gives STs the opportunity to create the LotC version of Alexander the Great to terrorise a nation just because of some OOC gripe they have with the NL or something.

"Perhaps ein new tradition for the Reinmaren to adopt." Wilheim muttered to himself as he read the missive in his office. "Shame Ich won't be able to watch for meinself." he huffed then as the announcement was moved from the mountain of papers he was to get through.

As his hand went over the document in the process of signing the pact, a strong sense of pride would fill Wilheim Barclay. Finally he turned towards those gathered as his cousin, the new High Chief, would present the Eagle's Pact to them, before shouting alongside him; "WER RASTET, DER ROSTET!"

"Very few leaders will ever have the privilege of ein man as loyal as du, Ser Walton." Tylos III greeted the man who had guarded him on so many occasions as he joined the other fallen of the siege in the Seven Skies. "Ich feel GOTT himself will struggle to recreate such ein man as ihrself. The world shall miss ihr presence, though it was blessed to have it to begin with."

Wilheim heard of his mother's death while he still recovered from a recent bout of food poisoning, the same illness that forced him out of defending Karosgrad himself. Already with a blow to his pride, this news made the man feel as though he couldn't get out of bed, as if his illness had begun once again. While he should have griefed, his thoughts had turned selfish, unaware of the true story behind her death. Perhaps she was the life he could have saved had he been well that day. If only. "Du fell as well? How odd." Konstanz remarked simply as his sister joined him in the Seven Skies.

What's your general opinion on the current state of the server from your point of view? It's typically easier for older players to have more negative views of the server's state at times due to experiences during old eras, so it's always refreshing to hear the opinion of someone with a fresher mind in relation to LotC like yourself

Dwarf because I don't like playing self-inserts

If one comes to mind, what's one character you were offered that you declined or didn't put much time into that you regret not accepting or giving more time looking back?

"Too easy." Wilheim Barlcay remarked as he heard of the news through a missive arriving to his halls.

Wilheim Barclay's mind returned to the sheer size of the entryway to the creature's domain, referring to the measurements documented in the short book he had written in during his last trip to the area. "Hopefully they answer." He said simply before going off to prepare for such a fight.

bit too aggressive there fella, gonna have to ban you for harassing a moderator

"Du tried ihr best, David. As did we all." Tylos III greeted his former Grandmaster as he joined the rest of them in the Seven Skies, calling him by the name he knew him as. "That's all we can each do to serve Him well."

EINE ÄUßERSTE ENTSCHULDIGUNG AN UTMOST APOLOGY & A WANTED MAN Issued by the PRINCE OF SUTICA 11th of Tov & Yermey, 450 E.S. AN ALLE IN ALMARIS MIT EHRE, Throughout my life, both as Baron of Sigradz and later Prince of Sutica and Duke of Reinmar, I have tried my utmost in order to live and act honourably and uphold the legacy of those before me. To live without honour is to live a hollow life, and as I look back upon my short yet eventful time in this plane of existence, I would wish to say I have done so, especially through my horsemanship. As the head of House Barclay, a family known for their prowess in mounted combat, I should be the last to utilise them illegitimately for something as recreational as a joust. Despite that, I write this missive for the reason that I have done the opposite. As those present are aware, in the post-bout examination following my first performance, it was discovered that my horse was under the influence of performance-enhancing herbs, which I have since found was hidden within the feed that my stablemaster has been feeding her. Despite such a discovery, I have little reason to suspect that my stablemaster has done this intentionally, seeing as within the feed was also many herbs meant to harm the horses in the stable, who have only found themselves becoming ill in the past few days. That does not, however, excuse my own failure to ensure my horse was of legal status for the official joust of the Almaris Olympics. I wish to take this opportunity to apologise to the King of Haense, my fellow jousters, and all the spectators within the hippodrome, for wasting each and every one of their time through my actions. This incident does not reflect on who I am as a man or a Prince, and who I strive to be in the future, and for that, I am gravely sorry. Despite all this, it is now known that there is a man or woman either within Haense or the foreign realms of Almaris who intends the trade of my house grave harm. In response to this, the Duchy of Reinmar hereby offers a 500 mina reward for any man, woman, or group who presents the perpetrator to the Duke. An extra 250 mina shall also be rewarded if the culprit is captured alive. GOTT MIT UNS. His Princely Grace, Wilheim Konstanz Barclay, Prince of Sutica, Duke of Reinmar, Count of Freimark and Kretzen, Baron of Madvon, Freising, and Sigradz, Lord of Wilheburg, Erwinsburg, Freiburg, Neuberg and Rozenfeld, Chief of the Reinmaren

Wilheim Barclay would shove the missive into the chest of the nearest levyman once he had finished reading it inside the gateway to Wilheburg, before storming off to return to the warmth of his keep "If what mein cousins say is true, the King must enjoy putting me in awkward situations; he'd have made ein habit of it after this."

As an Irishman I have never been more excited to see a new sport added to the Olympics

Being the Pontiff

WIEDERHERSTELLUNG DER TRADITION RESTORATION OF TRADITION Issued by the DUKE OF REINMAR 24th of Joma & Umond, 447 E.S. GOTT LÄCHELT UNS ZU. For many years, the Reinmaren people have gone without a proper chance to celebrate the succession of their Chieftain. In the times of Princess Johanna, what should have been a joyous occasion in the form of her wedding was overshadowed by the sudden loss of her father, the recently abdicated Prince Johann, and the diligence she displayed throughout the construction of Rozenfeld sacrificed too much time for a proper Oath of Macken to be held in her honour. In these times, however, His Princely Grace, Wilheim II has deemed that a return to the traditional celebration shall be held, in unison with the matrimony between himself and Lady Josefina Kortrevich before GOTT, so that the people of not only Rozenfeld and the Duchy of Reinmar, but all of Hanseti-Ruska and the Waldenic Diet may join together for this merry occasion embedded in the Reinmaren culture. His Princely Grace thus invites any and all to the celebrations to take place over the span of two Saint’s Days in the following year of 448 E.S. THE WEDDING OF WILHEIM BARCLAY AND JOSEFINA KORTREVICH [!] A depiction of the Cathedral of Saint Tylos, Reinmar. CEREMONY For many years, the Houses of Barclay and Kortrevich were ones with knives at each other’s throats, such tensions peaking during the time of Duke Erich of Reinmar and Count Jan of Jerovitz. However, with this mistrust dwindling in years since, the two families are delighted to announce the union of the Duke Wilheim and Lady Josefina, daughter of Count Nikolai. This union shall be held in the coming month of Vzmey & Hyff, in the halls of the Cathedral of Saint Tylos located within the family keep of Wilheburg, and officiated by the Matriarch of Jorenus and Bishop of Reinmar. BLESSED JOHANN’S MELEE As the couple prepares for their new life together, it is paramount that they remember those that came before them, so their legacies may live on alongside their own. One such ancestor is Blessed Johann Barclay, famed Duke of Reinmar and the Lord Marshal who led Haense and the BSK to victory over the Holy Orenian Empire. In honour of the Blessed man, a melee shall be held on the tourney grounds of Rozenfeld, where participants may only wield a one-handed axe, much like the Marshal did when GOTT smiled upon him. A prize of 150 minas shall fall into the hands of he or she who bests all other competition. Following these events, a feast shall be held within the dining hall of Wilheburg, as is custom with the weddings of nobility. All are welcome to attend the aforementioned schedule, regardless of status. One must remember where they came from. THE OATH OF MACKEN [!] A depiction of an Heir being carried by his Men. THE OATH An ancient Reinmaren ceremony which was brought back by Duke Erich of Reinmar, the Oath of Macken has been performed for the Duke and all successors following. In the coming month of Tov & Yermey, all are once again welcomed to the lands of the Duchy to witness this ritual be performed for the new Chief of the Reinmaren within the rose fields adjacent to the Duchy’s keep. TYLOS AND NICHOLAS’ JOUSTS In honour of the Canonised Barclays, Tylos of Kalden and Nicholas of Reinmar, and in line with the family traditions, two jousts shall be held within the tourney grounds of Rozenfeld. In honour of Saint Tylos, a traditional joust shall be held, with each rider riding on one of two white horses, the same colour as the horse Tylos rode over the city of New Reza. In honour of Saint Nicholas, and his sacrifice in defence of the clergy, all participants shall be packed within the confined tourney grounds, with only their lances, much akin to the confined area of the Basilica of Saint Heinrik’s aisle. All participants shall then engage in a brutal free-for-all, recreating the chaos which took place in those blessed halls. Upon the conclusion of each joust, both victors shall be awarded 100 minas, and face off in one final joust. The last remaining atop a saddle shall be rewarded a further 200 mina. Formal Invitations to the peerage of Hanseti-Ruska His Royal Majesty, Karl III, King of Hanseti-Ruska and his royal pedigree His Grace, Valdemar Baruch, Duke of Valwyck and his noble pedigree His Grace, Aleksandr II var Ruthern, Duke of Vidaus and his noble pedigree His Highness, Cesar de Pelear, Viceroy of Hyspia and his noble pedigree His Highness, Loran von Draco, Margrave of Eichenwalde and his noble pedigree The Right Honorable, Adele Ludovar, Countess of Otistadt and her noble pedigree His Lordship, Aurik Bishop, Baron of Ostervik and his noble pedigree His Lordship, Leopold Morovar, Baron of Ghaestenwald and his noble pedigree His Lordship, Maric Colborn, Baron of Bethlenen and his noble pedigree Formal Invitations to the Waldenic Diet The Right Honorable, Ottomar von Alstreim, Margrave of Vanderfell and Lord Vandalore His Highness, Heinrich von Alstreim, Landgrave of Merryweather-Alstreim and his noble pedigree The Right Honorable, Leopold von Reuss, Margrave of Velen and his noble pedigree His Lordship, Helwig von Bardenwig-Alstreim, Baron of Arentania and his noble pedigree Herr Adrian von Audrick and his pedigree Personal Invitations Her Excellency, Johanna Barclay, Lady Palatine of Hanseti-Ruska The Right Honorable, Nikolai Kortrevich, Count of Jerovitz and his noble pedigree Seine Hochgeboren, Leon Barclay, Der Graf Minitz and his noble pedigree His Lordship, Sir Borris Kortrevich, and his noble pedigree Her Ladyship, Niamh Baruch Her Ladyship, Anabel Colborn Firress Viorica Barrow GOTT MIT UNS. His Princely Grace, Wilheim Konstanz Barclay, Prince of Sutica, Duke of Reinmar, Count of Freimark and Kretzen, Baron of Madvon, Freising, and Sigradz, Lord of Wilheburg, Erwinsburg, Freiburg and Rozenfeld, Chief of the Reinmaren Her Ladyship, Lady Josefina Kortrevich

His Princely Grace walked down the passageway outside the front door, the busts of his predecessors flanking either side, and their names sticking out like sore thumbs to the new Peer of the realm; names that were remembered years after their time. He only hoped his name would follow such a fate, for reasons other than his inheritance.

Wilheim Barclay awaits the day his name is finally spelt right by someone, no less his future family.

Wilheim Barclay returned to the roof later that night, watering can in hand, before spotting his deceased ancestor resting beside his cherished roses. He'd take a moment to say goodbye to his great-great-grandfather, before solemnly calling for one of the houseguards to assist in bringing him to the crypts. In the skies, as usual for those who knew the man, a carrion was thrown at his head by the cackling Fionn. "Drink up, old ****!" he called to his old boss before doing so himself.

Too bad it won't go anywhere. Map design crazy these days, lead by the ST, and ScreamingDingo, who I personally hate

Sure go on

“There can be no laxity in faith for any reason, not war nor peace, not wealth nor poverty.” -Scroll of Spirit, 2:13 The countryside of Reinmar, as it usually did, brought a smile to the Pontiff’s mouth as he rode along its country roads, his young acolyte Hector accompanying him, both for the company, and to act as an assistant should anything happen. As the pair rode along a path bordering the forests of Dobrov, Hector’s mount shadowed Tylos’, the city-raised boy still not used to the pastime, and his swaying proved such. It was this ineptitude that had made Tylos bring the pair on this trip in the first place - to prepare the now-acolyte for his future life in the clergy. “Ein clergyman should be the quickest there is on ein horse, Hector. Especially one taught by His Holiness.” The Reinmaren remarked to his student, his casual smile curling into a sly smirk as he awaited the retort from his quick companion. “A Holiness raised around horses. You probably bred more of them than you’ve given sermons.” Hector expectedly quipped in response, to which Tylos would stop in his tracks, turning his horse as he perked a brow towards the teenager “Is that how du talk to the Vicar of GOTT? Insult him as he teaches du ein useful skill?” The annoyed look on Hector’s face quickly subsided as he looked towards his horse’s mane nervously, fumbling his words as he meekly responded “...No. Sorry, Your Holiness.” His expression would return to what it was moments before as he heard Tylos laughing to himself. “Du should learn to take Us less seriously when we’re on our own, Hector.” the horse he rode on would turn back towards the road ahead as the Vicar guided her, though he remained in place as he gestured his head on the path before them, as if telling Hector to move on, before the duo rode off once again, this time side by side. “What made du join the clergy, Your Holiness?” the words poured out of Hector’s mouth as the duo’s horses had set foot in the lands of the Reinmaren village, Rozenfeld, once more. Tylos would look towards the chapel behind them as he responded; “Some priests simply feel the obligation to join the clergy one day, Hector. Some plan to join their whole lives, but nicht Us. We had the life of ein Knight in Our head, but one day on ein trip to Elvenesse We simply felt the need to join und spread His word. Perhaps that was GOTT himself guiding Us to this path.” - “What made du join?” “My father wanted me to. He said it was tradition in the family that the second child joined the clergy, whether as a nun, monk, or priest. We never felt much desire to join ourselves.” Tylos rubbed his nose as he looked out to the growing fields of wheat and carrots. “Where’s ihr vater now, Hector?” Hector seemed taken aback by this question, before responding. “He’s still in Hyspia, Holiness. Why?” “He wouldn’t know if du simply left the clergy now. We wouldn’t hold it against du, either. Ein reluctant priest is ein bad one. Du’d serve neither GOTT or His flock well. Why do du stay?” he turned to his student as he listened to his answer. “I didn’t expect to be taken as your student. I thought I’d be assigned to a priest like most people, maybe a Bishop if I was lucky. I suppose I wanted to keep going for a few years, to decide if I wanted to continue down this path.” Hector’s words quickly fell on deaf ears, Tylos’ entire attention turned to the stone passageway which stood between them and the developed section of the village. There, his eyes fell upon a figure all too familiar, his ears catching nothing but their laughter. His face dropped dramatically as he watched them move out from behind the stone, trekking towards his direction. Quickly did his horse turn, the Vicar yanking on her reins forcefully as he galloped back towards the chapel, Hector being left where he was, the young man looking around him to find nothing but the fields, buildings, and construction projects; construction which his mentor had wildly ridden into. His screams for the Vicar to turn back were once again met with silence, for the sounds of muffled hammers and saws were all that met Tylos’ ears. The heads of most of the workers had turned from their tools, now gazing upon the yard instead, and the Pontiff which rode swiftly through, followed shortly by his desperate acolyte. Their yells for both to leave were ignored by Hector, and barely heard by Tylos, who still rode frantically past the frames the men stood upon. His old, tired mind focused entirely on what he had just seen before him, he didn’t notice as a wooden beam crashed into the ground before him, his mare rearing abruptly at it’s sudden arrival, and sending the man towards the earth, his head hitting the hard ground before the rest of his body would follow. Hector’s shouts for help as he plunged momentarily were the last he heard before the world went dark around him. REQUIEM FINALIS ONE FINAL REST “So Godfrey raised the horn and laurel, and said unto James “O James, pious son of the Lord, I have seen the glory of God in your heart and His word on your tongue. You will be my high priest, as in the days of Evaristus and Clement. I name you pontifex, for you are a builder of bridges.”” -Scroll of Gospel, 6:58-61 The sound of the Basilica of St Heinrik’s choir was the first sensation to greet Klaus after what seemed like an eternity of darkness. Slowly his vision would return to him, revealing to him the intricate building before him. The entrance behind him had been filled in with solid terracotta brick, and the detailed windows lining the walls shone bright white light into the halls. At the opposite end of the Basilica, rather than the typical altar, was the papal throne, occupied by the Blessed High Pontiff Jude II. Klaus’ sight, however, was fixed on the pews between them, which were filled with all those who had meant something to him in life. He’d hesitate to move, instead studying the faces of those who had gone. Eventually, he’d realise the youth of the faces before him; Petra and Reinhardt, along with his other childhood friends, appeared as mere children, and his father Cedric’s face appeared unscarred. He’d look down towards his own body, to see that he too was a mere toddler. He wondered why he was here in this building, with all those he had known, but these thoughts quickly bored him. He had had enough of thinking. He had had enough of being idle. He had done too much of that in his youth; he had too little time to waste now. As he took his first step, his grandfather, Brandt, was the first to depart from the vision. He stopped as quick as he had set off, his mindset thrown away as he stared at the empty pew before him. The pain in his chest was all too familiar, for it was the pain his young self felt when he watched his grandfather die before him, during an attack on his family’s fortified keep. The people before him were met with a venomous scowl from the young noble, who hesitantly continued up the pews before him towards the altar. With each step he took, he seemed to age more and more, his attire changing from his personal attire to his acolyte robes, and finally his black clergy robes. The people he passed would disappear as he walked by, as his grandfather did, the pain in his heart the same as the times he had heard of their deaths. He filled up with regret as his father departed, he yearned for a time long gone once Petra had faded away, and when his mother’s vision would pass, so too would the apparitions of his brother and sister, Reinhardt and Adrianna. In the years following his mother’s deaths, his interactions with his brother had degraded to simple greetings in passing, and he hadn’t seen her sister at all since then. Now, she lay in the crypts of Reinmar, by their mother’s side, alongside the rest of their deceased family. Klaus didn’t know at the time whether his final interaction with the pair was worth the divide it had caused. It was now his biggest regret. He’d experience the humiliation of being desquired by his own father, but in that moment, he’d rather feel it a thousand times more, if he could take back that moment between the trio. But as his loved ones moved on, so did he. He continued his slow steps towards the throne, the man sitting upon it shifting occasionally, from Jude, to Tylos I, followed by Everard VI, and finally, Tylos II, his predecessor. Those in the pews continued to disappear from sight, until two remained in the room with the now-Cardinal; Sigismund, and the Tylos before him. Two men who held upon their shoulders the same weight as he did, though undoubtedly greater. It was then he remembered the final conversation he had with the two. The confession he held for the ailing Sigismund on the day of his death, and the confessions of his own to both the King and Tylos II, shortly before their demise. He had always wondered what Sigismund thought of the confession he had given to him before he had left the Fidei Defensor’s room, and the same worry went towards what his predecessor may have thought. Perhaps they felt respect toward him for confiding, perhaps pity for the way he had done it. He quickly discarded these thoughts however; dying men have better things to worry about. He would take his 62nd step. Sigismund would be the last departure from the pews. A slight pain once again filled Klaus. The King’s departure to the Seven Skies, while a tragic one, was one that he was ready for, though death, no matter the frequency, was never something his heart could grow a resistance to. Three steps were taken towards the throne, before Tylos II became the last to depart. Tylos III would look down to himself. Already, his pontifical robes adorned him where his humble black robes did before, the large cross he always wore shining as it did during his enthronement. The same exhaustion seemed to also encumber him as it did in his later life. As he looked around, the room had become dark, the bright light from the windows having faded, leaving only the window at the head of the Basilica visible to the man. As he focused on it, his mind raced once again, as it always did whilst his gaze was locked on this feature of the building. No matter how much time he had spent in his life gazing at this glass, it always unsettled him, though he would never be able to place his finger on why exactly. He eventually gave in to the throne, filling the empty seat his predecessor had left him, noticing even those who still lived had departed from this vision. It had been too long since he had lived the life of Klaus. Those friendships he once held were mostly gone, replaced with his everlasting duty. The bells above him would begin to ring loudly, almost deafening him with their abnormal decibels. Ten tolls were what he heard, before their sound would subside, and the vision before him turned black once again. The Pontiff gave out a groggy groan as he woke once again, only this time he wasn’t greeted by another vision, but rather his personal residence within the monastery of Robert of Metz, on the outskirts of Karosgrad. It was almost bare in the room, for he never spent much time in it, only the bed he slept in occasionally, and the desk opposite it, full of the original copies of documents and writings that he had worked on. He’d lean up in his bed, covered in many sheets and covers to stave off the cold of the winter air, upon which he’d be greeted by the grateful cheers and prayers of the monks which surrounded his bed. Upon the desk, Tylos’ acolyte Hector would be sat, performing his own quick prayer to God for the Vicar’s recovery, before writing a missive to spread across Almaris. Tylos would look out the window before him as he spoke for the first time in two years; “What year is it?” one of the monks would quickly respond “1885 Your Holiness, or 438 E.S. as your fellow countrymen would follow.” Tylos would fall silent, doing quick calculations in his head. 65 steps, each step a year of his life before his Pontificate, and 10 tolls of the bells. If this vision was pure, not of Iblees’ creation, and If the tolls represented each year he would serve as God’s Vicar, he would have seventy-five years of life. He’d then state his birth date aloud, much to the confusion of the clergymen present; the 2nd of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1811. He had lived seventy-four years to that point. He had one left. “So I am the Most High, and in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not be idle, nor forget your duties in favor of sloth.” -Scroll of Virtue, 4:8 The days would drag on as the twilight of Tylos’ life continued, and as it did so, he felt his duty waning. More and more did he forget the Canticles he himself was bound by duty to uphold and preach, falling more and more into a hopeless state as he kept himself locked up within the monastery, awaiting what he felt was the inevitable. His time would be spent looking out towards the countryside surrounding the monastery, and the walls of Karosgrad, and reading whatever books of interest Hector could find around the monastery. The only time he would leave the solace he had forced himself into was to perform his duties when needed, upon which he’d quickly make his way back towards his isolation. It was a stark contrast to the thoughts he held during the beginning of the vision he had in his coma. Then, he was so adamant on making the most of what life he had left. Now, however, after the pain of his life returned to him for only those short moments, he had realised. He wasn’t tired of wasting what time he had left. He was tired of having time left at all. The coma had done its damage on the old man’s body. Besides the heart tremor noted by his physicians, His legs were far too weak to support him, his ability to travel independently depending solely upon the sceptre which had been crafted for him upon his awakening. The cross which adorned the top of the long staff’s shaft would act as a reminder of Tylos’ duty to the flock, but his lack of care for the position he was still holding on to simply made it a torment to him. The people of the flock deserved a better Vicar than he had been in these past years. Circumstances started this decline, though his own self-pity had caused the spiral downwards. A bird would arrive at the aviary of the monastery, Hector quickly relaying the letter it had delivered to the aged man. It was from the Queen of Haense, Amadea, requesting that he be the one to deliver the sermon given to the Haeseni people to celebrate 100 years of independence. A long sigh escaped his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was deliver a sermon in the state he was in, however he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was obliged to do this, for the flock he had cared for since the day he was ordained. He’d eventually move from the window where the bird had now begun to rest, opening the door for the first time since he had returned from the Haeseni court months prior, and setting off on the short journey towards the Basilica. There, the people of Haense had already lined up in the pews, awaiting the Vicar’s arrival for the sermon. Perhaps some of them were there for the sermon itself. Perhaps others had simply hoped for one last look at the Pontiff in life. It mattered not to Tylos, who had felt a sudden surge of energy; a sign to his tragically hopeful mind that he was on the path to recovery. As he walked down the aisle to the altar unsupported, to the surprise of those who had seen him in recent times, and as the choir would die down, the Vicar would begin his swan song for the Haeseni people. “And he did not know death, for the Lord loved him and lifted him into the Skies whole.” -Scroll of Gospel, 7:66 The words spilled out of Tylos’ mouths as if he was being controlled by God himself, no sign of the man’s ailment visible as the beginning prayer had ended, and his following speechwas underway, much to the enjoyment of Tylos, whose sceptre was being lifted in the air by one hand. It was this feeling that he had missed terribly in the past year of his duties; true independence. The Lord above had blessed him with this moment, and he would not disappoint, either the people who were listening closely, or the Man above who he had followed since the moment he could read the scrolls. A hacking cough brought an end to the Pontiff’s joy. The pain in his throat had reminded him of the impending mortality he would face; his 75th birthday was days ago. God was to claim his soul soon, but not yet. He’d assure those worries by the display, before continuing on, with great vigour in his actions and voice. Sweat began to pour down his face as the second prayer began. An easy fix with the long sleeves of his robe, but the stiffness in his body was not. Tylos’ breath had started to become short, the man gasping for air before long, and his right hand going to clutch his chest, which had begun to give out. Panic filled his actions, calling for the young boy beside him; “Altar boy… get ein physician.” Though as those requested doctors arrived, the man’s mindset once again flipped, turning them away, much to their concern. “Get away! GOTT will nicht allow Us… to fall before his flock.” Tylos’ arms would give out as they held the sceptre he had depended on, sending the man to the ground, unmoving for a few moments. Horror filled the room as those nearby him checked frantically for any signs of life, before his own groans confirmed it. From his groundly position, the Vicar heard someone cheer out; “Praise GOD! A Miracle!” “We never died, du idiots!” Where he was filled with desperation to live, Tylos was now filled with one selfish desire; to finish his duty. It was all he wanted to achieve at this moment, then he could finally accept that which he had awaited for this final chapter of his fleeting life. The crowd had finally returned to their seats, the dying Vicar held up by his sceptre on one side, and Cardinal Katerina on the other. Not a sound filled the sombre Basilica as Tylos delivered the final segment of his sermon. Looking towards the youth gathered, pity would fill his failing heart. Children so young would have to live with such a horrid display before some of them could even comprehend death. Then, his eyes fell upon his brother Reinhardt, and his friend, Kaustantin. It had pained them all enough to see everyone else go, now those would have one more to grieve. And of course, Franz had arrived on the scene, right as his final moments began. He would laugh at his sudden arrival, if his body would’ve allowed him. The final speech of the sermon had ended, the crowd waiting to hear any more words the Pontiff may say. “Go in peace.” These were the final words of Tylos III, his sceptre crashing against the altar floor, and his body slumping downwards, Katerina’s support preventing him from joining his staff on the ground. The physicians once again rushed to his side, demanding for the Cardinal to check for a pulse. Katerina hesitantly did so, before turning back towards the crowd. The Basilica would be closed off for mourning following her announcement. “The Pontiff is dead.” [!] The following missive would be hammered before the door to all churches, cathedrals, and basilicas in Almaris. REQUIESCAT IN PACE Today, it saddens the Church of the Canon to officially announce the death of His Holiness, Tylos III, caused by a heart attack, likely set on by the heart tremor discovered during his recent coma. May the Vicar of GOD rest in peace forevermore in the Seven Skies, alongside those who came before him. The Church of the Canon has now entered a period of mourning. The Basilica of Saint Heinrik is to remain closed during this period, and none are permitted to enter, with exceptions made only for those of the College of Cardinals. Signed, Acolyte Hector, former personal assistant to Tylos III TYLOS III 2nd of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1811 - 10th of Godrey’s Triumph, 1886 2nd of Vzmey & Hyff, 364 E.S - 10th of Vzmey & Hyff, 439 E.S ☩CUM DEO APUD NOSTRUM☩ WITH GOD AT OUR SIDE

QUINDECIMUS AUREA BULLA JORENUS THE FIFTEENTH GOLDEN BULL OF JORENUS The 10th of Owyn's Flame, 1886 | 10th of Jula & Piov, 439 E.S. HIS HOLINESS TYLOS III, High Pontiff of the Church of the Canon, Archbishop of Visigia, Successor of the High Priesthood of the Church, Supreme Pontiff of the Church of True Faith, Keeper of the Canon, Missionary to Aeldin, High Servant to the Exalted's Testaments, Humble Servant of the Faithful and Vicar of GOD does decree… TABLE OF CONTENTS ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ SECTION I - Opening Prayer SECTION II - Synod Appointments SECTION III - Curia Appointments SECTION IV - On the Metropolitanate of Providentia SECTION V - On the Harvest Confederacy SECTION VI - Marriage Dissolution SECTION VII - On Heiromonk Vladrick SECTION VIII - Venerations SECTION IX - Canonisations ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ SECTION I O Lord GOD, whose glory is forever eternal, Grant such to those of Your flock who work not in their interests, but in Yours, For their diligence benefits not themselves, but the faithful, Their charity feeds not themselves, but the unfortunate, And their ultimate sacrifice prolongs not their life, but the lives of others, So that they may continue to spread Your words forevermore. Amen. SECTION II It is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We make these affirmations, alterations, and additions to the College of Cardinals. We decree these appointments… TMR, Her Eminence, Mr. Katerina Cardinal Jorenus TMR, His Eminence, Fr. Adrian Cardinal Albarosa TMR, His Eminence, Fr. Viktor Cardinal Nescia TMR, His Eminence, Fr. Armand Cardinal Allobrogum SECTION III It is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We make these affirmations, alterations, and additions to the Curia. We decree these appointments… Vice Chancellor, His Eminence, Adrian Cardinal Albarosa Prelate of the Clergy, In Sede Vacante Ecclesiastical Auditor, His Eminence, Armand Cardinal Allobrogum Pontifical Secretary, His Eminence, Viktor Cardinal Nescia Pontifical Chamberlain, Her Eminence, Katerina Cardinal Jorenus Grandmaster of the Order of Saint Nicholas, In Sede Vacante SECTION IV In Our previous address to the flock of GOD, We decreed that it was Our wish for the Metropolitanate of Providentia to be cared for by Cardinal James, to see whether he held the passion and drive necessary to effectively lead those under his care before fully assigning him to the domain and to Our Curia. Today, it sadden Us to declare the following. As the former Orenian capital of Vienne falling to ruin, and the resignation of Cardinal from his office, it is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We destroy the Metropolitanate of Providentia, to never be held by another clergyman of the Church of the Canon, lest another city of the Canonist faith proves itself prosperous enough for a Metropolitanate of its own. May GOD have mercy on those who called the former capital of Oren home, and may He guide them as they move on towards their next chapter in life. SECTION V One of the first events relayed to Us upon Our awakening was the fall of the Kingdom of Oren to the group of displeased vassals known as the Harvest Confederacy. While it is unfortunate that such an event would have to happen between a King and his Lords, We understand that such internal struggles are inevitable, and thus We must not look to the past, but to the future, when one has come out on top. Thus, it is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We recognise the Harvest Confederacy as a sovereign state encompassing the former lands of Oren, and We duly recognise any official documents and treaties signed by any and all parties of the Confederacy. We also recognise the following as the Harvest Lords of the Confederacy: I. Hannes of House de Vilain, Baron of Acre II. Leon of House Barclay von Minitz, Graf of Minitz III. Paul of House Temesch, Regent of the Commonwealth of Petra IV. Heinrich of House Alstreim, Freiherr of Corwinsburg SECTION VI Matrimony is a most holy sacrament, granted by GOD through his clergymen that serve the flock. However, it is inevitable that these unions do, for one reason or another, require the intervention of the Church once more, through an official dissolution of the pair’s union. Today, We perform such once more, as It is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We officially dissolve the union of Lord Charles Alstion and Lady Eleanor Pruvia, on the grounds of abandonment through Lady Eleanor and their son’s sudden departure to Balian over a decade prior to this publication, and the following struggles of the Lord to find her in that time. We wish that GOD grant mercy to this separated couple in the next chapters, and We request that they seek Our approval before once again receiving the sacrament of matrimony. SECTION VII In the Saint’s Days predating the publishing of this missive, We were told of a grave offense committed by the Heiromonk Vladrick against Her Eminence, The Matriarch of Jorenus. As told to Us by Cardinal Katerina, and confirmed by Lord Wilhelm Morovar and Lector Enrique, the Monk attacked the Cardinal as she prepared to perform the rite of matrimony in the Principality of Sedan, claiming her to be a nun, and not the clergyman she correctly stated she was. This is not the first time the Monk has needed to be reprimanded for his actions, as it was done before by Venerated High Pontiff Everard VI during his reign. Given the time between the incidents, and the severity of the recent incident, it has become clear to Us that the man is not fit to serve in GOD’s name any longer. As such, It is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We defrock Heiromonk Vladrick, removing him from the ranks of the Church of the Canon. We implore the man to seek repentance for his sins committed, so that he may not be denied the Seven Skies once his time has come. SECTION VIII It is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We affirm the following veneration: Venerated Maxin Attenlund Made Venerable for his quick and selfless actions in rushing to the defence of Venerated High Pontiff Everard VI during the failed Michaelite Schism. SECTION IX It is through Our Apostolic Right, bestowed unto Us through the Laurel derived from the Exalted that We affirm the following Canonisation: SAINT WALDO THE WAYFARER Patron Saint of Architects and Those who are Lost Very little of the life of Saint Waldo is known. Due to the unremarkable youth of the man and his unwillingness to later document such a time in his life. Saint Waldo was born in Athera, under Savoyard rule, and was raised in a tavern known as the Dragon’s Scale, a tavern known to house and host street urchins and monster hunters of renowned fame. Is was through this background that Waldo was able to befriend the leader of the guild that encompassed most patrons of the tavern, a man named Letho, and designed and constructed for him and his men, rich with the rewards attained through their service across the Continent, a new fortified headquarters in the middle of the developing village, along with a new tavern, called the Gryphon’s Wing. It is said that when the village was attacked by a crackadonk, whose fire razed the majority of the village to the ground, the headquarters of the guild was the only building to remain standing, and in quite good condition, as if it hadn’t been touched by the beast. As word of this tale spread, Saint Waldo’s building expertise was highly sought after, both by Lords seeking to expand their villages and personal keeps, and mercenary groups looking for blueprints for their own headquarters. Another common commission for the man were intricate signposts, as well as landmarks and lighthouses, so that travelers may have an easier time finding their way. However, the most ambitious projects of Saint Waldo’s were those of great cathedrals and basilicas, which he would always pray in as soon as they were consecrated. As Saint Waldo’s wealth grew, he seeked to educate others in his building prowess, teaching multiple apprentices throughout his life in order to preserve the architectural style that he had developed. His life did not last long after his newly-found fame, however, and the man died in a construction accident in his mid-thirties. While he was mourned heavily by those who were lucky to receive blueprints from him, his apprentices, many of whom became masters through his tutelage, continued to spread the man’s influence throughout Athera and the continents to come. While Saint Waldo has been deceased for centuries, it is believed by scholars that his architectural style lives on. Through examining and comparing paintings of towns, cities and keeps that Saint Waldo and his students had constructed, these learned men have found many similarities between these ancient constructions and the constructions of two men of this time; Olivier I of Savoy, and Frederick I of Oren, who designed and aided in the construction of their capital cities of Saint Luciensburg and Vienne respectively. Many details from Saint Waldo’s time could be found in these constructions, with modern details added in. MIRACLE I In the early days of the newest iteration of the Kingdom of Oren, whilst Frederick I and his contractors and builders constructed what would become the royal capital of Vienne, one of the first details the Monarch ordered be built was a statue to Saint Waldo outside of the city gates. As the final detail was chiseled into the statue, all men and women who aided in the construction of the city felt a great fury and energy in their hearts, using such to construct the entirety of the city and palace in a fortnight, a speed never documented before for a city so large. MIRACLE II In the royal city of Karosgrad, within the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska, as the royal contractors and demolition workers worked on leveling the old, outdated palace to make room for the Morrivi Prikaz, one of the contractors who aided in constructing the city of Vienne called for all workers to join together and pray to Saint Waldo. The group reportedly prayed for three hours, before returning to the site and leveling the old prikaz, once again in an unprecedented time. MIRACLE III Following the fall of the Kingdom of Oren and the rise of the Harvest Confederacy, the Confederacy set out destroying the buildings of the Kingdom and Empire past which had fallen into disuse, including the city of Vienne. As the city was razed, the statue of Saint Waldo stood as it always did, resisting picks, hammers, and even controlled explosions which the Confederacy used to topple the statue. Today, the statue of Saint Waldo still stands, while many parts of the old city do not. THE HOLY MOTHER CHURCH OF THE CANON Under GOD, maintained by His Holiness Tylos III THE COLLEGE OF CARDINALS ADRIAN CARDINAL ALBAROSA Archdiocese of Albarosa KATERINA CARDINAL JORENUS Patriarchate of Jorenus VIKTOR CARDINAL NESCIA Archdiocese of Nescia ARMAND CARDINAL ALLOBROGUM Archdiocese of Allobrogum THE CURIA ADRIAN CARDINAL ALBAROSA Vice-Chancellor of the Church of the Canon IN SEDE VACANTE Prelate of the Clergy of the Church of the Canon VIKTOR CARDINAL NESCIA Pontifical Secretary of the Church of the Canon ARMAND CARDINAL ALLOBROGUM Ecclesiastical Auditor of the Church of the Canon KATERINA CARDINAL JORENUS Pontifical Chamberlain of the Church of the Canon SEDE VACANTE Grandmaster of the Order of Saint Nicolas IN SEDE VACANTE Holy Mother of the Canonist Church CANONIST DIOCESES PATRIARCHATE OF JORENUS Encompassing the entirety of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska & the Kingdom of Norland, to be shepherded by Matriarch Katerina Cardinal Jorenus. DIOCESE OF HENRIKEV, encompassing the entirety of the Capital City of Karosgrad, to be shepherded by Matriarch Katerina Cardinal Jorenus. DIOCESE OF VALWYCK, encompassing the lands to the north and east of the Capital City of Karosgrad, to be shepherded by Maya Bishop Valwyck. DIOCESE OF REINMAR, encompassing the lands to the south and west of the Capital City of Karosgrad, to be shepherded by Katerina Cardinal Jorenus. TITULAR DIOCESE OF LEUMONT, encompassing the city of Leumont and the region of the Kingdom of Norland, granted to Matriarch Katerina Cardinal Jorenus. ARCHDIOCESE OF ALBAROSA Encompassing the entirety of the Harvest confederacy, to be shepherded by Archbishop Adrian Cardinal Albarosa. DIOCESE OF ROCHEFORT, encompassing the South-Western half of the Harvest Confederacy, including Lower Petra, Rivia and Oltremont, to be shepherded by Erhard Bishop Rochefort. DIOCESE OF BURON, encompassing the North-Eastern half of the Harvest Confederacy, including Blackvale, Mardon and Whitewater, to be shepherded by Markos Bishop Buron. ARCHDIOCESE OF NESCIA Encompassing the southern region of the northern continent, including the lands of Sedan and Du Loc, to be shepherded by Archbishop Viktor Cardinal Nescia. DIOCESE OF AQUILA, encompassing the lands of Sedan and Du Loc, to be shepherded by Viktor Cardinal Nescia. ARCHDIOCESE OF ALLOBROGUM Encompassing the Grand Duchy of Balian and the lands of the Southern Continent, to be shepherded by Archbishop Armand Cardinal Allobrogum. DIOCESE OF TYRIA, encompassing the lands of Balian, to be shepherded by Drasus Bishop Tyria. ☩CUM DEO APUD NOSTRUM☩ WITH GOD AT OUR SIDE