mu1r
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From ashes and to ashes; conception until demise; everything must come to an end. St. Terrell may have not been around for too long, but his impact showed up differently. Known as Terry by friends, or father Shipp, the zealot made it his goal to rejuvenate the dim in spirit and better those who didn't deserve redemption. On the day of his demise, the man started it as he did any other, with a prayer: "Oh GOD, please instill me with the power to accept those who I cannot change; I request you burden me with their suffering and show them the light, the joy of life, rather than condemning them to live a life of sin and torment." This is how the man started every day. He went above, and beyond in his community, abstaining from food so as to 'face others' qualms.' by enduring the punishment of his creation. Continuing with his day, Terrell stopped by his slice-of-life spot: the Garden of Serenity. Quickly shuffling across the riverbed, the idol hobbled over towards a stone slab juxtaposed to a tree - it lay perfectly with the sunlight beaming down towards it; resting in the middle of the rays was the bread that the man seemingly had been cooking. Taking the bread, the zealot soon rifled it into his satchel as he ventured off towards that day's mass, planning to distribute the loaves there. After mass had concluded, the shoeless priest made his way towards the back of the Armenian church he frequented - starting to distribute his meal to the needy. It was only there that the true test of virtue happened, as a peasant put a blade to him, requesting all coinage or anything of value. Not being a materialistic man, St. Terrell opted out of conflict as he gave the man all that he asked for, as the thief needed it more than him. But alas, not caring about capital only goes so far when you are being robbed as his would-be murderer became enraged with the lack of wealth is shown as he plunged his knife into the man. Terry crumpled towards the ground, a smile dawned on his face as he muttered: "I forgive you."
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casual lomiei + mu1r W
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Klaus read the official notice, gripping the paper. "Surely dat ist i som' sick joke, Ja?" The highlander was stunned that something like this could happen in the safe haven which was Freimark.
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*Stepping off of the boat's hull, Balbeen, a traveling farfolk could be seen taking a deep breath, seemingly taking in the scenery.* [!] The port reeked of fish, booze, and smoke, seemingly coming from inside the city's walls. *Balbeen walked forwards towards the marketplace, the man wanted to admire this new city which he should now call home for the next foreseeable future. [!] Walking forward as to venturing towards the marketplace, A rather well-off gentlemen steps in front of the farfolk, cutting him off. "Welcome!" The man said, shooting Balbeen a smile. taking a breath he continued, "What brings you to this lovely city? Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?”. *Taken aback slightly, the farfolk looked the man up and downed, and thought about his rather rude mannerism and lack of social space. "I'm here to make some coin, and if eih' make some friends along de way then great." [!] Pausing a second, the man finally spoke once more. "I can help with that stranger, I run the local tavern, 'The Scheming Elf' *Balbeen paused a second before speaking, seemingly trying to think of the right things to say. "That's a strange name." [!] The well-dressed gentleman addressed Balbeen "Speaking of names I'm Patrick, Patrick Eroine." "Its a pleasure to meet you, Patrick. De' names Balbeen." "Nice to meet yew as well, now let me show you around." [!] The two men ventured forward into the city, a sense of wonder filled the air.
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You’ve just stepped off of the boat in the port of a massive and fortified city. Before you lies a sprawling bazaar, with numerous shops, stalls, and seated traders selling wares to folk of all walks of life. Just as you’re about to continue walking onwards, into the market, you’re approached by a well-dressed gentleman who looks upon you with a big smile. “Welcome!” He began. “What brings you to this lovely city? Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?”How do you respond? *Stepping off of the boat's hull, Balbeen, a traveling farfolk could be seen taking a deep breath, seemingly taking in the scenery.* [!] The port reeked of fish, booze, and smoke, seemingly coming from inside the city's walls. *Balbeen walked forwards towards the marketplace, the man wanted to admire this new city which he should now call home for the next foreseeable future. [!] Walking forward as to venturing towards the marketplace, A rather well-off gentlemen steps in front of the farfolk, cutting him off. "Welcome!" The man said, shooting Balbeen a smile. taking a breath he continued, "What brings you to this lovely city? Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?”. *Taken aback slightly, the farfolk looked the man up and downed, and thought about his rather rude mannerism and lack of social space. "I'm here to make some coin, and if eih' make some friends along de way then great." [!] Pausing a second, the man finally spoke once more. "I can help with that stranger, I run the local tavern, 'The Scheming Elf' *Balbeen paused a second before speaking, seemingly trying to think of the right things to say. "That's a strange name." [!] The well-dressed gentleman addressed Balbeen "Speaking of names I'm Patrick, Patrick Eroine." "Its a pleasure to meet you, Patrick. De' names Balbeen." "Nice to meet yew as well, now let me show you around." [!] The two men ventured forward into the city, a sense of wonder filled the air.
