Royal Peasant

Ser Roylan Grant 'Bismuth' Sirame rested after the battle. The ash that had clogged the air and clung upon his body having been washed off and his armour cleaned from the blackened marks that covered them. The smoke that had choked his lungs, and the rubble that had fallen upon his body had bruised, battered, and blackened his flesh as he looked over his form. A hiss leaves his lips as he cleans himself up as he considers the battle. "That....was interesting. Manning Ballistics. Cannons...and then manning row boats. Glad we all managed to out alive."

Ser 'Uncle' Roylan G B Sirame toasts to a menu that was established and complete! "We did good!"

Another Highlander, the OG and Original of the land that keeps them from the man that finds connections to penguins within his nature looked over the equations and the numbers before him as he tapped his fingers against the branch he was sat upon as he looked over it all. "Mhmm...2-1-24-19 7-7 24-8-22 18-25-23-10-19-12-12 9-9 24...Wait, simple?" He voiced as a idea sparks and he brings his pen down upon the parchment he had in his hand and begins to scratch, to cut, and edge the page over in several places and turned into into a maze and patterns by the time he was done. "Could this be it? Mhmm...wonder if Scoria already cracked this egg of a puzzle. Curious indeed!" He voiced with a warm hum and had his attention stolen by the 'yip!' of a puppy. The equation forgotten as he began to play with the baby direwolf, tickling its tummy and spoiling them with everything he had.

Contact: Gary#7589 Character Age: 36 Character Description: A tall. broad highlander with meaty hands and muscular in physic. Chestnut brown hair in a curly fashion that flows down to the shoulder length, with a big fluffy beard with blond hair mixed in and Aqua eyes. With a scaled dark green headband of a Crackadonk wrapped around a strawhat that rested on his head with fangs covering the band of the bandana. Draped in fabrics with fur draping's. Bare feet! With a dark green dragon tattoo circling his arm with its head resting upon his shoulder and the tail at the wrist. Character Reference:

Ser Roylan G. B. Sirame pondered for a moment the woman he met so many years ago as the singing of the birds from the trees brought back the memory. The memory of colour, of flashing and dashing fabrics and playful song. Of tailered garb being presented to him bringing a warm chuckle to his lips. "Its always fun when a song bird is around."

Just wanted to say this is a beautiful and wholesome little addition to culture. From decorations, gifts, to crafts I can see this being used for so many things. It will be curious to see how its used! Thank you for this addition.

These are pretty cool. I love the colour contrast that was used. Makes everything stand out.

This was not an edit I was expecting to see. But I'm not surprised considering how many Athin related submissions seem to be made every week from what I have heard. This should pull the work load off the ST and allow for more free form creation with general herbs, which I can see both the state and us players benefiting from. Less stress for the staff and more freedom to be creative as long as we don't break red lines. It sounds good to me!

Ser Roylan G B Sirame blinks at the tale of a man that was living within a jar of wine within the walls of a settlement and found a warm, little laugh bursting from his lips at this information. "Aye home that comes with a bath and aye drink doesn't it? Hopefully the man doesn't pickle himself in his home!" He voices playfully at the information. Finding it both amusing to visualize the man within the tale but also one that came with some benefits. A fun home indeed!

I am confused why this is still open and I am getting pinged at the moment with it being denied awhile ago. Did it get reopened after being edited?

Seems legit!

Roylan G Sirame had been taking a sip of a sweetened up of tea within the morning, the honey drizzled through the mixture to give it a touch of sweetness to his breathe to give the morning a delightful and warm tingling taste of sweetness. Yet. For some reason this morning the taste was bitter on his tongue. No matter how much honey he added upon the tea the taste was still bitter, and cold upon his tongue and yet alas, he couldn't understand why. Incomprehension settled within his mind as his eyes cast outwards to the walls that lead into the forests, into the lands around. A settling sense of sorrow starting to dredge itself up from within him for a reason he couldn't understand. And may never. But somehow, in some way. The soul of the man wept for a friend who passed in a place his eyes couldn't see.

As a twin in reality I shall pout at our existence being denied!

I'm curious. What meme would I be?

Ah! I see the sorting hat grew tired of greasy heads like Malfoy's. Good on him!

Roylan G. Sirame sat down for some late night reading before sleep and blinked in confusion at the book at that was on his desk. "What? Where did ya come from?" Ten minutes later the man was greatly disturbed by his new found knowledge.

And here's a brat that's from the map we're currently in. Hey-ho!

I'll have to agree with twinwolf on this feeling more like a fae/natural creature than one formed from voidal magics. From what I have heard of voidal magic creatures they are usually horrors, bizzare, and creatures that are clearly not natural. You know the whole motif of eldritch horrors and the like. While this feels like a creature that could exist within the world setting we have. After all its just a turtle with a plant matter growing on its shell in essence. Its unusual size draws attention too it and the tree tied too it, but we have giants, dire creatures, and other beings that are of unusual size already in current lore like direwolves. Despite saying this I love the concept of a house build on a giant turtle, and people being able to live or relax on its shell. Could even have a island at sea with a similar concept for events. So I hope you are able to rework this and get it accepted! Because everyone loves turtles.

Its always wonderful to see more art and creative styles. I hope you enjoy creating the pieces from your new commissions!

“The Gladeguards, the guardians of nature and children of the forest. Swift they run through the green, sharp gleams their arrows for all those that bring blight to the land, beautifully their blades gleam with a deadly edge. The kindred of Vale.” Yet even the Children of Green and the Wild have traditions that they hold that further allows them to guide, protect and the realms they roam among their Drui kindred. One such tradition is the Trial of Union, a trial that a Gladeguard can willingly take upon themselves to prove themselves to the Drui and become a chorus of songs that aid their own melody of protection that heals the land. The Trials may begin through recommendation through the ranks of Halerir'elame. Be it the Valeseer, the Wild Chiefs or the many Greenblades that rest within the walls, a name may be up for recommendation to be accepted within the Gladeguard. From there, the leaders of the Halerir'elame will discuss and consider the individual brought to their attention, and if they approve of the choice, they will seek the individual out to offer the trial. The first trial is displaying one's worth in the duty they will be sworn by. This trial is arbitrary in that the prospect Gladeguard may study beyond the forests of Nevaehlen, by reporting through experience – displaying their skill set and strength. How they conduct themselves and deliver their trial will be under review by the Wild Chiefs or Valeseer. This trial is meant to prove the sharpness of the mind, the ability to learn, and retain information that would be essential for the duty that they would be taking by becoming a Gladeguard. A body may be physically strong, a heart may be righteous, but the mind is equally significant for judgement and resolve. *** Fae’lin slowly tightened a bandage around his leg, the glistening shine of crimson from the wounds underneath lightly scoring against the bandage as he slowly but steadily layers the thick cloth time and time again. The body of a thin, weathered figure in a robe laid down before him as he slowly tended to his wounds. Voices echoed behind him as the blackened land marked with corruption slowly began to fade under the chanting voices. The slow glow of buds, of light, began to rise up and appear coil, leaves blooming, the fresh scent of grass returning to the land. Beauty returning to a land that had lost it. The ame himself drew out a journal into his hands and began to write within, adding to his experiences, his new found knowledge into the tome. Pages upon pages having already been etched into existence. Finishing up. And just as the ‘Ame had been ready to close his eyes and meditate to wade away the pain, a new voice, deep, clear, and with purpose echoed beside him. Turning his eyes met the Crimson gleaming eyes of the Wild Chieftain. And the journal found itself plucked from his fingers. *** The second trial is a trial that tests the heart, and application of the knowledge. More specifically, the initiate is tasked to scout out one of the many enemies of nature, of Nevaehlen and gather information that may be vital. They may also join active Gladeguards on direct missions. Both options, when completed, will be overviewed by either fellow Gladeguards, Wild Chiefs, or the Valeseer. During the mission, the initiates demeanour, actions, and skills will be considered. *** The sense of sickness that clung to the air, and weighed heavily on the bodies of the team that moved through the voidal hollow that plagued the land around them. The uneven soil that crumbled under their feet like sand springing with each step they pushed themselves forward within. Fae’lin stood within this team, feeling the drain of his strength, the weight restraining his breath and worry plaguing his heart. But he strengthened his well, tightening his fists, beating down the feelings that urged him to run, to flee from this place and escape from it. Sweeping his eyes around his vision spotted a structure, standing tall, seemingly unaffected by the blighted soil that was so weak under their soils. And then…he noticed it moving, heading closer towards the group. A warning escaped his lips to warn those ahead of him. A strange pursuit began, figures escaping the stone structures form as arrows fired towards it vanished before it reached its being. Especialing the blighted lands for now. A new enemy, a new threat discovered resting within its domain. *** The final trial is that of the body, a trial where the individual will be given a task to learn the skill of forgery. They must craft a set of armour unique to them, yet untraceable to their home. The armour itself, while bare and inconspicuous, holds great value in the art of stealth. This gear is only to be worn on missions beyond the Vale. Otherwise, Gladeguards wear the Halerir’elame gear alongside their Wild Chiefs and Greenblade kin. Upon completion of the armour, the initiate is instructed to display it to the Wild Chiefs. And explain each edition added. A verdict is given, and if approved, the Greenblade shall undergo an oath. *** The armour had been worked and prepared to suit the body, and the strength of his being. The gauntlet of his sword hand had its plates reinforced, made heavier, and more defendable while the left hand was lightened to be used for quickened movements. The chestplate had been changed and loosened, made lighter with leather replacing the protection of the stomach connecting to the rest armour. All of which had the glistened with a coating of Athin around the armour and a touch of padfoot oil against the boots to allow for silent movement while prepared to face against fire. The role of a silent scout, with quick, deadly movements. Yet not the heavy shield that would defend against strikes was the role fae’lin believed for himself as he spoke on it. The choice was viewed, discussed, and the reasoning for every choice was given to the Wild Chief and considered. Finally with approval given a smile bloomed over the expression of the man that had learnt much throughout his trials. *** Worth has been proven, a heart has been open and embraced the kindred and those who have already followed this path, celebrating a new member to their order and purpose under the swaying branches of myumier ito lye. With the item proving this bond in hand, it is time for the final part of the trial, the pledge. The oath of ‘Union and Protection’ is given before brothers and sisters. Surrounded by Greenblades, the newly oathed initiate kneels before the Wild Chief in a circle of stone hedges. Those who attend bear witness to the promise about to be made, not only to their kin but the forest. As the oath is given, the Gladeguard donned in their Halerir’elame armour, will have the sigil of the military marked onto their sword wielding palm. “Through storms, through quakes, through fire and bane, I promise you that I shall shoulder the burdens of the blight, I shall bear the weight and be the shield and protector. Under the warm light of the Mother, and the harsh gaze of the Father I pledge to you. No harm may befall the wild unchecked before my sight.” *** Kneeling down under with his head lowered and his hands clenched as if in prayer, the figure of Fae’lin rested under the sky that was just starting to turn to night. The blue colour of the sky melting away towards the red glow of the fading light, the peak of the lunar glow of the moon beginning to melt together with the sun. Flowing together as one. Standing before him stood the figure of a Wild Chief, a headrest of bones upon their crown, and behind them stood the figures of their fellow gladeguards, blood etched upon their brows. With the budding flowers circling around him and the stretching shadows caught by the standing stones the lips of the Wild Chief before him began to sing. And Fae’lin himself spoke to follow suit. His palms opened and presented towards the figure before them. As the Wild Chief stretched out hand with a needle as he began to work an image, a symbol upon his open palm as they sang together. *** Acaele'uriar narnal, nor'hiuwan narnal, igne adri'ehya narnal. Kae haler nae, kae myumierir iyl'atan. Kay myumierir larehan ana elevar'ehya, Anoh ahhaelun'mira ehya maln feta'sulier kae hael. Ne miar nae'ame kae'evar. Through sky shouts, through earth twitches, through fire and evil. I promise you, I carry this taint. I carry mountains and be the protector. Under revered Mother's warmth and Father's cold sight, No Harming your forest I protect. *** With the finishing burst of melody the day had turned to night, the sting of the craftmenship of the branding artwork that had been etched upon his skin catching in the light. A promise captured. Life entwined, and bound. The flowers that were budding blossomed before the eyes of all those that were able to witness announcing to all that the ceremony was complete. And a new symbol had blazed itself to life upon his palm. ***

This reminds me of what the Monk side of roleplay that interested me before it vanished into the eternal closet of the universe. The serenity, meditation, peace and healing that were tied too it. I will look forward to seeing how this turns!

For all the people that took part in the jar, thank you for gifting us such wonderful and adorable creations!

3.350 Mina.

Roylan G Sirame blinks as he hears of a new school being formed. Intrigued touching his mind he sought out some information about this school of bards and began to learn of it, and the rules it harboured. A frown tickling his expression at what he read as he tilted his head to the side. "Death? Murder? Theft? What happened to simply enjoying the arts, music for what it is...a freeform and bright light to share, and express to all that is welcome too hear and witness it..." A little regret filled at what he had read he hopes these rules are just a precaution, over something that actually happens among 'bards'.

Roylan G Sirame lets out a hum as he sits some tea while sliding a brush back, and forth over a canvas. Gazing out at the bright, sunny skies of vale as he begins to etch its image upon a canvas from the trees. "This is much better than the eternal rain that filled this place when I first arrived here so...so many years ago."