CharmingCavalier

Henry Penton scrambled nervously in his office, aides running every which way as paper flew up into the air. "They did what to the unemployment numbers?!" As he shrieked another paper was dropped off at his desk, the sweaty bald man panicked as he read it over. "They must never know the real numbers."

Henry Penton sat in his tent, a damp affair that he wished would end. As the candlelight flickered in the draft, an aide, one of the decent ones, entered his chambers and whispered in his ears. As he spoke, the old fellow's eyes widened, and he was quick to storm out into the whirling air of rain and ash. With each aged stride, his cane sinking deep into the Lower Petrine mud, he made it closer to the center of the camp. With a whip of fabric, the elderly statesman burst into the presence of the Archchancellor. "Is there something you need to tell me, Joseph?" The exchange developed into shouts as some stopped to stare at the tent. Henry could be heard crying with a booming voice, "I FORBID IT!"

THE 29TH IMPERIAL DIET - SESSION ONE 9TH OF SUN'S SMILE, 1858 BE IT HERE ISSUED, THE MINUTES OF THE IMPERIAL DIET THE MINUTES The Diet was welcomed and opened by the Vice Chancellor, who chaired the meeting. The Diet was instructed of its first matter of debate: The Reorganization of the City Government. Senators Hope and Komnenos expressed concern over the state of the city government. Senator Constanz proposed the Prefecture Act of 1850. Senator Luthriel commented that only those with military service should be allowed to vote in future city elections. Senators voted AGAINST the motion to push the Prefecture Act of 1850 to a vote without amendments. The chair informed each member of the Diet that amendments should be proposed in the coming days before a vote is called. Senator Komnenos proposed the introduction of legislation pertaining to the rights of Kha. Senator Vuiller concurred with Senator Komnenos, but Senator Pruvia openly disapproved. The chair informed the Senators to bring legislation to the floor on the matter if debate was to persist next session. Senator Komnenos motioned to recess the meeting, and the Senators voted FOR the motion to recess. ATTENDANCE FOR SESSION ONE THOSE IN ATTENDENCE The Baron of Ames @HeyitsNano Senator Diana Vuiller @PrettyCuteAnna Senator Edith Hope @Nuker Senator Henry Constanz @_Bueno_ Senator Chloe de Rosius @EmiliainWonderland Senator Anastasie Pruvia @veganwalmart Senator Joseph de Sarkozy @sashimichopped Senator Cesar Komnenos @KamikazeReaper Senator Luthriel of Ebonwood @High_On_Math THOSE NOT IN ATTENDENCE The Duke of Cathalon @DelaneyG The Count of Temesch @Tiresiam Senator Richard d'Azor @Cubicita Senator Dante Flacone @BenjiBot DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING YOU WISH THE DIET TO DEBATE? Send a letter to Vice Chancellor Henry Penton @CharmingCavalier!

MC NAME : CharmingCavalier RP NAME : Peter Augustus d'Arkent AGE : 23 Are you an Orenian Citizen or Ally : Citizen Are you an ISA Soldier or a Knight of the Empire : No If you are from a Noble House, which one : d'Arkent

A PHILIPPIAN VERSE Emperor Philip III in Official Portrait c. 1849 By Rupert Murloch Now our mighty Philip goes To dwarven lands to subdue our foes. With the noble force of Oren’s Crown, To pluck the half-man rabble down. None of His foes, dare His power oppose, Seven skies success on Him bestows. There's no dwarven host that dare withstand, The fury of His powerful hand. When great Philip, whom they dread, Shall meet them at His armies head. Fear will so possess each dwarven heart, That from their standard they'll depart. Sound the trumpets beat the drums, Great Philip now, He comes! He comes! All His foes must fly and quit the field, Or else unto his mercy yield. Fame’s loud trumpet doth proclaim The greatness of Imperial fame. Fearing Him, now into bogs they’ve run, His Justice, and His rage to shun. Long may He reign, and His power maintain, In His Empire, and upon the main; May He live in peace, and His power increase, And reign Sovereign o'er the lands and seas. Signed,

Peter read over the document, a rare occurrence that kept becoming more frequent. With a nod he looked at his advisors and said, “free ale after a battle?! These fellows seem to be tempting us to start more wars!” With that the Duke let out a shrill cackle that made the men around his groan and roll their eyes.

Peter read over the missive while nodding at its astute observations. Before long he was searching his study for a certain tome, something he had not done in a long time.

The Vice Chancellor, Henry Penton, gleefully signs off on the paperwork. "Oren Aut Mortem," he quietly spoke in a room with nothing but a candle and his many books.

The Duke of Sunholdt would chuckle as he gulped down another mixed drink, tossing aside the cute umbrella the innkeep had planted in it. He commented to the Prince, “I’ll teach you my secrets one day! But first, watch me do this backflip.” The Duke then started to ascend the stairs of the tavern, knowing this would be another night to remember… just like the one before it… and the one before that…

A half-wit pulls out a chart before handing it to his boss, Louis d’Azor. The middle-aged man swooped away his dark hair before raising a brow and saying, “Odd that someone would say Leopold is the heir to Horen when he is the second cousin to the senior male of the Alstion line. He isn’t even the heir to Alstion,” Louis would snort. “But I suppose nothing more can be expected from a man who sprung forth with no one remembering him as a child.”

Henry Penton sat in his office at night, muttering over a crowded desk of papers. He was alone, in faith and peace. He offered a simple prayer to God on high: "Lord, come what may, I ask for your guidance and wisdom during these trying times. Every great act of Your magnificence can be traced to kneeling men, not those who stand. May You guide me, and help me, O' Lord. Amen." With that the old man, the top of his head shining in the candlelight, closed his books. He stood to leave before an aide rushed in, "another missive, Mister Penton!" The old man snarled, snatching at it. He threw it on his desk, marching off. "What I should have prayed for is one damn night of sleep in this world!"

During his government travels, Henry Penton gathered a merry band of elves from the Ebonwood and began to march towards the shore to enjoy a lovely holiday. As they strode along, he sang out one of his old songs, from happy days long gone from his mind. Yet the future was bright, or was that just the sun? Regardless, the old man sang with a more raspy voice but still with the zeal of his younger days. "O' way out east, there is a place..." And so the jolly crew of elves and humans, in comradery, went off to bask in the Orenian coastal waters new New Provy.

Peter Augustus d’Arkent stood and read the letter before looking around at the room of tutors. “This doesn’t make any sense. First the Fedei Defensor trusts letters written by literal lizard people and now they publish a letter not written by my grandfather but with his signature tacked onto its tail? We are better than this, surely? Civilization becomes uncivilized once more.” He returned to his studies but shook his head.

Henry Penton sipped his tea and chirped at his maid as he read over the morning reports. “Say, have you any idea if our friends here make better food than you?! No - Well, I suppose I’ll have to ask the beardless High King to bake me some fresh rolls in Kal’Darakaan sometime. Say, how did he get his beard to grow back so quick? Bah - and they talk about us not liking consequences - HARUMPH.” The old man ceased and then hacked up a wad of phlegm into a handkerchief.

Henry Penton nodded. He spoke to himself in an empty room, "I think I would look good with a handprint on my face, no?"

AN ANNOUNCEMENT FROM THE IMPERIAL TIMEKEEPER ASSOCIATION CLICK HERE The need for the accurate accounting of time transcends borders. It is a connecting thread that binds all people together, and never ceases. As the Imperial Timekeeper Association, it is our duty to provide functional timekeeping services to the Empire, but also for all who do business with our Empire. Furthermore, at the request of many clocksmiths, merchants, and government officials from the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska, we have developed a clock that adequately translated Imperial Standard Time into the Sigmundic Calendar. Therefore, it is with great privilege and humility that we present this timepiece to His Royal Majesty's court, government, and society for seamless coordination of time. May it hang in your bank or halls for many years to come.

THE ALMARIS BUCKETBALL ASSOCIATION GAME RESULTS Finals - Week 6 Season 1 A BATTLE FOR BUCKETBALL! (THIS WEEK'S ANTHEM) Where we left off last week, the season's final game had just ended, but there was no time for celebration by the victors or sorrow for the loser. These two championship teams were swiftly confronted by an undead team, including liches and other abominations. They sought to challenge the Dunes and the Saints for the game of bucketball itself. Our spectators, officials, and commentators were trapped behind towering walls of flames shooting from the either, obscuring their view and any aid they might have given. Without coaches or referees, the so-called Saintly Dunes will have to come together to save us all or risk the championship and its trophy sinking back underground with the spooks of Almaris! (ABA OPENING POST LINKED HERE) Heith-Hedran Hoopsters - Almarisian Saintly Dunes As Hakim approached the tip-off line, he looked to the lady with the pink hair, confused by what was about to happen. He asked, "were you the pink-haired lady everyone has been warning about?" She smirked and, without a notice, chucked the ball high into the air, a lich making a ghastly noise as he levitated off the ground to grasp the ball and shoot the ball straight into the bucket; three points for the undead. For decrypt beings, they moved with such finesse, much to the surprise of the Saintly Dunes. The one lich with a tarnished crown swiftly intercepted pass after pass to Herakles from Zaina Al-Hamad and Istvan. Even when Istvan got close to scoring with a layup, dribbling around the skeleton-lord in a white cloak, the pink-haired lady muttered words that instantly sealed the bucket. As the ball slowly rolled to the side and off the court, the players looked at one another with exhaustion on their faces. What could be done against such blatant rule-breaking?! As half-time came, the score was ten to fifty-nine, in favor of the undead who had told them their name was the Hoopsters. Herakles and Hakim looked to their teams and sighed. It all seemed to be futile against such magically-abusive players. As they walked to the tip-off line, expecting another half as the one they had just played, a woosh could be heard from the side of the court. In a breach of the fire walls stood the Saint's Cheer Captain, Selvia de Orsella, a cannon smoking under her. And from that hole stepped the other teams of the ABA, their colorful uniforms accompanied by weapons of all sorts and sizes. The Lady of Pink hissed at them, "this isn't fair?! What are you doing?! This is our game to win?!" Herakles grabbed the ball from her and said, "no, this is our game!" And with that, the most recognizable ABA players charged forth, using weapons to counter the magical abilities with sheer force. Grigory Grubb was seen using a club to bash the knees of the grotesque skin monster, while Lanqui used his height to crash a gigantic war hammer into the head of the pink-haired lady. Gulmon and Gib passed the ball through the legs of a lich, knocking their skeletal remains to the ground with a boney clatter as they hung to the bucket over top of him. Lulubelle Starbreaker was seen on the back of Rakothurz swinging morning stars and even managing to catch the pink-haired lady in the face. When the dust settled, the liches and undead were seen crawling back into the hole from whence they had emerged. The pink-haired lady shouted back at the victorious ballers, "this won't be the last time you hear from us! We'll be back and claim your idiotic championship next season!!!" The ballers looked between themselves and nodded, the crowd erupting into a deafening screech as the fire cleared the way to an all-star cast of the ABA. From the sidelines ran the coaches of both teams, who shook hands. And finally, a monk delivered the championship trophy into the hands of Hakim 'the Brickwall' of the Dunes. He hoisted it high, surrounded by his fellow ballers. VICTORY OVER THE ANTI-BALLING UNDEAD! VICTORY FOR BUCKETBALL! CONGRATULATION TO THE CHAMPIONS OF THE FIRST SEASON OF THE ALMARIS BUCKETBALL ASSOCIATION NEWS ON SEASON 2 BUCKETBALL HAS BEEN SAVED... UNTIL NEXT SEASON?!?! Also, check out our discord below! You'll need it to prepare yourself and your team for season two! https://discord.gg/UbdSZNrTFT

THE ALMARIS BUCKETBALL ASSOCIATION GAME RESULTS Finals - Week 5 Season 1 THE FINAL GAME! (THIS WEEK'S ANTHEM) Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for picking up another edition of Almaris Bucketball. I am, as always, your dutiful commentator and author Martie Lickman. This week is the final week of the ABA's inaugural season. Really, we have to look back at this year's crazy moments and imagine where this all came from. We've lost some people along the way, but the first season made it in the end. All thirty-plus weeks were systematically detailed for your viewing pleasure. Now, I don't know about you, but I am exhausted. My wife has been begging me to spend time with her, or something like that. I don't know what my wife wants! Anyways, enough about me, let's give a big round of applause for you: the fans. You guys have been here through it all. Through the wins and the losses. The season may be over, but I think we've learned that out of the bad stuff from the Almaris, we can extract a single good thread of pure fun: beating each other up over a ball that we can arbitrarily throw into a bucket. Now, if that isn't pure friendship, I don't know what is! But without further adieu, the final game of the first season of the Almaris Bucketball Association... or is it? (ABA OPENING POST LINKED HERE) Fakhr Dunes - San Luciano Saints The day started with a bit of an irregularity. A pink-haired guard came to the ABA official in San Luciano and informed them that the stadium was undergoing significant repairs from a recent riot following the other week's loss. Having no other option but to dismiss these valid circumstances, the ABA moved the final game outside of San Luciano, somewhere atop the cliffs between the Oasis and Savoy's capital. With that small administrative note out of the way, the stage was set. The stands teemed with vivid excitement. Hakim and Herakles shook hands at the initial tip-off of the last ABA game for this season. And with a gush of wind behind the ball, pushing it skyward, the two leaped. For the next thirty minutes, the two teams dripped with sweat. Azzam stuck to Herakles like a fly on spoiled food, but Amadea Barclay kept Qamar Al-Nabeel in continuous suppression throughout the field's obstacles. By half-time, the score was tied at forty-five. Head Coach Joseph Brandt of the Saints took his players into the locker room, which doubled as the arena's outhouse, and gave them a rousing speech on the importance of winning. He reminded them that they would kill some tribesmen off the court as payback for such a defeat even if they lost. Meanwhile, in the Dune's locker room, Murad Al-Hamad praised his player's undying courage and let them know that win or lose, they were still the Eastern Conference champions! The heat was back on with the post-half-time tip-off going to Istvan and Zaina. Herakles managed to get away from Azzam multiple times, but Zaina made herself known, pulling the Dunes ahead by two for most of the final half. However, with a slip-up by Qamar Al-Nabeel and a quick reaction from Obasi, the score was evened up. With seconds remaining in the game, the ball was in the hands of Hakim 'Brickwall' Al-Hattan. With a concise leap right inside the arch line, the ball flew upwards and towards the bucket. The score was 81 to 81. As the ball approached the bucket, it slowly sank in, and the monks blew the game's whistles. Hakim looked to his coach with a bright smile, but abruptly the earth sundered between them, and walls of stone and searing flame surrounded both teams on the court... IT ISN'T OVER... YET! A litany of repulsive and hideous liches and spooks emerged from the broken ground, their drab garb clinging to what skin they had left. Among them stood a pink-haired woman laughing maniacally. The ball slowly rolled to their feet, and the tallest of the liches, who wore a crown of tarnished gold, picked up the sphere and held it in one hand. "You did not impress us this season. Now let's see if you can really ball!" The unconscious monks laid silent on the floor, and the coaches and fans could be heard gasping and shouting from the other side of the fiery impediments. The pink-haired girl walked to the tip-off line as both teams stood in shock and awe. She turned to them and hissed, "Well, come on then, lads, get to your positions! We may be undying, but that doesn't mean I have all day." Hakim and Herakles looked to one another before nodding, knowing what needed to be done. A battle for bucketball itself commenced....... TUNE IN NEXT WEEK TO FIND OUT IF BUCKETBALL CAN BE SAVED?! Also, check out our discord below! You'll need it to prepare yourself for season two! https://discord.gg/UbdSZNrTFT

THE ALMARIS BUCKETBALL ASSOCIATION GAME RESULTS Finals - Week 4 Season 1 GOING TO A FIFTH GAME! (THIS WEEK'S ANTHEM) Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for picking up another edition of Almaris Bucketball. I am, as always, your dutiful commentator and author Martie Lickman. This week was one of the most unique games, as the Saints and the Dunes matched off in the pitch-black and freezing cold desert near the Fakhr Oasis. Despite the conditions that are not necessarily known to the Saints, the glorious gameplay not only astonished this commentator but the entirety of the crowd! With this win the Saints have tied up the series, with two wins for both. Next week, in San Luciano, will decide it all! Will the Saints claim the title or will the Dunes steal it away in the Home that Herakles built? Everyone is on the edge of their seat to see who will claim the championship, but everyone is also wondering how?! (ABA OPENING POST LINKED HERE) Fakhr Dunes - San Luciano Saints Back with a rush, the Saints pulled out a win over the Dunes in the desert this week. In a game that was delayed to start, the noontime pushed deep into the cold nights. Both teams were fully clad in thick face cloths to prevent the freezing temperatures from quickly impairing them. Savoyards, including Istvan and Herakles, wore thick head scarfs, and fourteen fans were found frozen to death after the hour-long exposure to the elements. However, the game was anything but cold. This epically chilled air was filled with corner shots from Herakles and the impressive defensive blocks near the bucket by Obasi. Meanwhile, the cold did not fare well for Azzam Bin Hakim, who was seen slumped over on the sidelines after halftime. If it weren't for Hakim's defensive protection and coverage for Azzam, there would've been a more significant deficit for the Dunes. The game ended cinematically as Herakles went to the corner and faded away from his corner guard to sink a five-pointer perfectly. As the crowd went wild, and most ran to find warmth, the game ended with a dreaded silence as both teams now prepared for the final showdown next week. Also, it appears that the cannons that were planned last week did not fire this week. Was it the cold? Was it the victory? Was it a plan for game five?! Find out next time! Do you want to add your name to the roster of your favorite team? Do you want to be drafted or made a free agent in the ABA? Join our discord and supply us with your player's names so we can include you in our posts! https://discord.gg/UbdSZNrTFT

Louis d’Azor quickly gets back up on the ladder and starts to remove the banner in Providence that read “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!” He frowns at the Acting Archchancellors mistake before saying to a fellow citizen who passes, “Those who are swift to words are late to logic.”

Peter d'Arkent looked to his tutors with surprise at the missive, wondering what to say. He simply repeated what he has said all along, "any man who believes we should conspire for war on our own kind is dangerous." His tutors nodded and then swiftly returned to lecturing him on the importance of domestic economic development and foreign imports. The young duke just wished he could be a boy again.

THE ALMARIS BUCKETBALL ASSOCIATION GAME RESULTS Finals - Week 3 Season 1 THE ROLLING DUNES STRIKE BACK! (THIS WEEK'S ANTHEM) Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for picking up another edition of Almaris Bucketball. I am, as always, your dutiful commentator and author Martie Lickman. This week the Dunes managed to roll over the Saints with an eleven point difference, causing the Saints to begin to pull out all of the stops to prevent a loss of the championship. Most impressively, from this commentator's perspective, is the fact that the Dunes have managed to shut down the imposing offensive capabilities the Saints have had all year long. Regardless of how this shakes out in the end, I don't think we could've asked for a better matchup in the finals. Both teams have been through a lot this season and both teams will be better for it next season. Now, on to the game: (ABA OPENING POST LINKED HERE) Fakhr Dunes - San Luciano Saints With the lowest score yet, the Saints dropped the bucketball this week at the oasis against the Dunes. Most of this disappointment comes from the stellar defense of the Dunes, putting a lot of pressure on Herakles Mareno in the corners and Istvan inside the arch. Azzam Bin Hakim has battled back against the wound he sustained in week one to lead not only a defensive overthrow of one of the best offensive teams in the ABA but also his team with the spirit of a roaring lion! Meanwhile, the Saints are considering all options moving into next week, since a loss there would lose them the championship. Even Cheer Captain Selvia de Orsella has brought out all the stops in an effort to not lose any more games. She has packed massive cannons full of little pieces of paper and candy, what the Illations call confetti, and plans to use it somehow next game. Let's see if their tactic works, but either way I get a ton of free candy, so its a win for me! Do you want to add your name to the roster of your favorite team? Do you want to be drafted or made a free agent in the ABA? Join our discord and supply us with your player's names so we can include you in our posts! https://discord.gg/UbdSZNrTFT

ON OUR NEW CAMARADERIE An ISA Soldier Shakes the Hand of a Blackwald Company Officer c. 1849 I stood, not four saint’s days ago, on the bridge outside of Providence to witness Emperor Philip III ride into the city and reestablish order from nothing but chaos. Accompanying him were the suns of Savoy, the eagles of Oren, and many other various banners. But from that assortment of colors, I saw one thing: humanity. A common thread, one which has oft been broken by petty prejudice and ignorant pride. That day I did not let myself become distracted by the diversity of uniforms, for I found solace in the unity of our hearts behind our Emperor, His Empress, and the Prince of Savoy. So I say unto you, let humanity cease its belief that it can profit by impeding our fellow man with trivial preference over their own kind. And so let me compel not by empty gestures but sincere words that I see a new dawn has arisen. This morn is not to be claimed by either side. Nay, it is to be a shared greatness we should revel in together. Our future is ours to shape, collectively, if we should push aside such ingrained hatred and embrace our new camaraderie. I am but fifteen years of age, but I know that hatred is a learned thing. And I also know that things that have been taught can be untaught. So, let us break bread together and celebrate what we have in common, not what drives us apart. Let us discuss in a civil manner the reconstruction of an empire, one in which we both can share the glory of its inevitable success. Signed, His Grace, the Duke of Sunholdt.

Henry Penton nodded as he glanced over the ultimatum. “The half-men have to eventually learn that claiming a false victory over our people will result in only more conflict. The dwarf’s memory of these defeats are as short as their legs and as hairy as their chins. So, now, let us remind them again.” The Treasurer then took to the streets, conducting the assembled bands to play Oren Aut Mortem, the Irrational Ireheart, the Long Legged Dwarf, and other Orenian classics.

A GLORIOUS REVOLUTION -=- Emperor Philip III and Empress Anastasia crossing the River Petra c. 1849 The air was fraught with conflict in New Providence. Emperor Philip II sat in his palace among a citizenry gripped with confusion. But a few saint’s days earlier, Providence had been the scene of mass rioting and looting that had not only destroyed the homes of his people but what semblance of control he held over the Empire. Despite the new construction, a bustling people were held hostage by a man afflicted by madness. Then, as the sun rose, two horses strode at the head of a column of men. With every moment, the line grew longer. And there, atop majestic steeds, sat Emperor Philip III and Empress Anastasia. Behind them stood a litany of Orenian and Savoyard nobles, armed men who bore the armor and flags of both states, and a handful of respectable burghers. Near them were many advisors, but none so instrumental as His Serene Highness, the Prince of Savoy, Olivier Renault. As they stopped on the bridge, within sight of the imposing fortifications of New Providence, the massive gates creaked up. From those streets emerged bewildered citizens and the remnants of the Imperial State Army. Tensions rose among the assemblies as the red-clad guards approached the Philippian host. And then, like a gust of cool wind on a hot summer day, the last remaining captain in Providence surrendered the city to the rightful ruler, seeing the futility in serving the despotic and deranged Emperor within the walls. -=- And so, on the 6th of Horen’s Calling, 1849, Emperor Philip III and Empress Anastasia crossed the River Petra and liberated the Holy Orenian Empire from the grasp of the ailing and demented Philip II. -=- In what amounts to nothing less than a Glorious Revolution, the two walked through the streets, lined with celebrating denizens. Savoyards and Orenians alike accompanied the true sovereigns to the throne room, where they declared that humanity need not swelter in conflict any longer, instead striving to maintain a peaceful and amicable state among the descendants of Exalted Horen. From the subsequent initial petitions arose the High Pontiff, Everard VI. He questioned if the dust had clouded the vision of who was the true Orenian Emperor and Philip responded, with authoritative boom, that the dust had settled and it was he who sat atop the throne, in sound mind and with sound body. And so, that saint’s day, the Philippian multitude made their way to the Basilica of the Ascent of the Exalted Godfrey and saw our Emperor and Empress anointed and crowned with the blessing of the Church, His Holiness, and GOD almighty! -=- With no Orenian blood spilled the powers of humanity, both Savoyard and Orenian proclaim their Empire restored to glory! From what was rotted shall emerge anew, with the blessings of GOD. But our work has just begun, and so we shall rally the faithful once more to secure our greatness! A GLORIOUS REVOLUTION INDEED! OREN AUT MORTEM! -=-