Pancho

Air posting? Shit just got serious

The only times I've asked someone to d20 was if they were being a pain in the ass during crp (stalling, powergaming to shit, having to have mod intervention due to not emoting). Though when people simply CRP and do that type of stuff, I try to be in good faith and let them go.

Based squakposting

W take, sums it up perfectly

I've began to enjoy CRP again within the last 6 months after turning to pvp for a year or so. To be quite honest, some of the newer players don't have the right teachers for CRP or are too stubborn to learn it properly, and it can lead to situations where you wait for an hour for a mod to come and no good solution can be reached. I've tried to keep most CRP simple and easy to understand for all parties involved, but it turns to points where some people complain too much and won't listen to mods even if the CRP is valid. It is annoying, but I don't see any reasonable solution to it, but am open to talking about one more openly if any ideas come up.

In the Seven Skies, a young man wearing shiny armor of old smiled upon seeing his old friend. Treble de Murat extended a hand, eyes as bright as ever. "Sir Solomon! You may have betrayed your oath, but it means naught here, old friend."

Many Covenant "Fleepers" cry out as they take the doompill! It's so jover!

This just proves Haense needs to suck it up and take the Imperial Pill

Activity checks are not the enemy. If you complain about there being too many settlements, but are against activity checks, then you are the problem. Bring back activity checks.

We wanted to do said occupation RP, but were constantly told by moderation that we were not allowed to enter the tile en masse. This can be confirmed by Hnor army leadership.

Would you queue with me and Bray instead?

Bro @Spoopy_Duckwhen are we queueing Lethal Company together ;(

A man of a Ferryman lineage, forgotten by the test of time, read the missive from overseas. Antonio 'Alto' de Murat sipped on coffee as he read the missive. A land he never called home, yet the people he once called friends. He mused over it a bit before going to a drawer and withdrawing a teal bandana. He then put it in an envelope, labelling it "Jose 'Tenor' Fuentes', sending it off across the seas.

Jose Fuentes, the Margrave of Coracoa, gasps and coughs profusely as his scribe reads him the letter in his illness!

Voryl Ireheart wiped a tear from his eye as he blew his nose into the human handkerchief.

As the Margrave of Coracoa was read the missive by one of his bannermen, he sighed. His sudden bout of illness had rendered him bedridden, unable to move without utter pain. He ordered a pen and paper be brought to him as he jotted down what he could handle. All that could be deciphered from the chicken scratch that he called his was "Felicidades."

A dwed stirred from his slumber, awaking in the corner of the once joyous 'Brawms Beer and BBQ.' Voryl Ireheart blinked as he yawned and stretched, looking around. "Is it time already?"