Petsch2k

Strange happenings… A pile of mangled corpses was found in the North East part of Belgrade, the screams of the locals alerted everyone within the town. It was a horrific sight, but a foreboding one nonetheless. Strange occurrences and sightings have been sprouting all over the lands of the Adrians, and this one seemed more sinister than the last. The corpses were set in such a specific way, one could wonder the evil it could bring. As the Adrians peered upon the pile and began investigating, they would see occult sigils carved into the very body of the corpses. Some who peered too long would begin to hear voices of their loved ones called out to them. While others received grim visions. It was as if the more they were close to it, the more strange things began to occur. People had begun to notice movement from the pile of corpses, eyes that wandered, jaws that moved slightly, fingers that began to claw or twist into certain signs.. They chose an effective way to get rid of it, by flame. The pile of corpses then screamed into life, the groans and moans of several voices echoed as the flames began to consume it, arms detached and attempting to crawl away only too fall limp as they burned into ash. The sight of limbs moving on their own horrified the citizens of Adria, what evil could have done this to so many innocent souls? Dark days lie ahead.

THE SCAR UPON THE WORLD As the tear in the world flooded the surrounding silver woods with abysmal life force. Nature screamed in agony as life around the rift began to wittle, decay, and corrupt. The Darksworn Reikonor rose once again and with it the Legion of Darkoath. Hexwraiths rose in power–the Darksworns generals–they led their own portion of the legion each with their own objectives to complete. The realm of the living would fall into chaos once again, as more and more undead sightings begin to appear across Azuras. The High Kingdom of Idunia would be no different, surrounded already by the accursed emberrest forest–home to many cults, apparitions and feral corcitura–undead have begun to rise in numbers. But something was different, their bones would be darkened, black veins pulsing with abyssal magik. They dawned armor and necrotic weapons, imbued with dark magik to cause cancerous wounds. It seemed as if something terrible was about to occur, something that would begin a battle that has been fought since millennia. Light vs Dark Good vs Evil THE VISION Within the Idunia Capital, the Templars of Malchadiel would go about their daily tasks, most were either out patrolling or honing their skills. In an open area within the Temple of Malchadiel, Adûnakhor and Ser Valanor were training together. They were brothers-in-arms who had fought alongside each other many times. As they began to channel their holy magic their swords began to glow a warm light when suddenly they both noticed something was off. A small sharp pain struck their psyche, pulling them both into a vision. Their perception began to blur as the world around them suddenly was washed away. They barely had time to react before being pulled into their psyche. After a few seconds they recognized that there were deep within the emberrest forest, the vision cut through the dense fog before darkened undead in armor came into view, they were armed with blackened weaponry that dripped with black ichor, it seems they were guarding a group of necromancers circling an altar while chanting a dark mantra. The black speech irritated the Templars as they listened to the accursed tongue of the damned. The surrounding trees would be decorated with hanging dead peasants as the necromancers channeled black magic onto the center of the altar. As the two witnessed the blasphemous ceremony, they were pulled back into the temple, in the same stances they once were. They wasted no time, considering that vision to be a message of utmost urgency, they called for a quick task force to go engage their enemy that lurked within the woods. The knights of Malchadiel gathered a small but deadly force, and soon sallied off towards the outskirts of the Capital. As they began their search for the undead, the Templars in the group began to have sharp pain, small visions giving them hints as to where to go. They eventually found the ritual ceremony and with it a plethora of undead. There they encountered what seemed to be an abyssal knight, large in stature, its blade covered in writhing tendrils and rotten smog. It called out to the Templars hiding behind the cover of the woodlands. Taunting them before the signal was given. The night echoed with clashes of steel, bursts of flashes from the sparks that let off as each blade landed upon another. The battle was fierce, quick, and violent. THE RIFT The towering undead knight was slain. The Hexwraith crumbled to the ground, but soon the ground shook, in the corner of their eyes towards the rift–the necromancers had completed their mission–the ground began to shake, and a new scar tore open. Abyssal flame and a myriad of black tendrils crawled out, lifeforce pouring out onto the ground, the foul stench of corruption polluted the air. Slowly the lands began to change, the dirt darkened, tree bark twisted unnaturally, leaves turned dark purple to shades of black. The Host of Idunia had won the battle, the field was littered with undead and allied corpses, but now a rift was open and more undead will be pouring out from that wound…the dire circumstances was not over. Reports later that day came from Caurost, they too had been attacked. More and more reports began to come in, more undead, more necromancers, it seems they were being assaulted by multiple fronts. They may have won the battle, but the war had just begun.

ORDRE DU PETRINE LAUREL IN REGARDS TO THE SWORDS OF ST. EMMA, The Swords of St Emma have served dutifully, with honor and dignity. By the will of the Arch-Duke and his council, the time to unify the two branches has come, in order to establish a strong unified Order. So sworn, in the name of the Crown and the Laurel. The Swords of St. Emma is hereby disbanded. Any remaining brother who swore their sword to the Swords of St. Emma shall be summoned before the Knight-Captains and Master-Sergeant of the Order, there to be evaluated for service. Each man shall be judged by his discipline, loyalty, and years upon the field, and thereafter granted the corresponding rank befitting his station within the levy of Petra. THE PROCESS OF KNIGHTHOOD Pages Although the process of being a page is not a mandatory part of the path to Knighthood, it can help a child understand the gravity and importance of knighthood. Pages are assigned to knights, who they will become assistants to. These children will receive etiquette lessons, basic combat training, and an education from their assigned knight and the knight’s squires. A page must be the age of 10 or below. Squire To be a squire, a candidate must be age 14. There is no upper age limit to be a squire. Unless a candidate was a page previously, squires will be chosen from the pool of Man-at-Arms. A candidate must serve in the Lévée Commun and reach the rank of Homme d’Ordonnance before their squireship officially begins. Besides being part of The Levée, a candidate must be in good standing within both the Commonwealth of the Petra and the Church of the True Faith. They will be assigned to a knight, training and living with them. Squires will be trained in the following skills: I. Squires will become proficient in their skill at arms, working under the tutelage of their knight to learn and master their skills. II. Given the expanded role which a Knight of the Petrine Laurel plays, any squire shall learn how to firstly read, and secondly how to properly write. Be it a missive, bill for the Garmont, or the etiquette of personal correspondence. III. Horsemanship shall be learned, and a good squire will learn how to maintain and care for a warhorse properly. IV. Speechcraft shall be learned too, given the role which a knight plays within Petra. This includes how to properly address a citizen, lord, or foreign dignitary should the need arise. V. The Commonwealth of the Petra is a pious Canonist polity, and as such any squire shall learn the tenets of Canonism, and how to act in accordance with this. VI. Following this tenet above, a squire shall undergo a pilgrimage alongside their knight and an accompanying priest, connecting further with the spiritual aspect of their profession. A knight is not only a warrior and a scholar, but also a good Canonist. VII. All squires shall also undertake the pursuit of an art of their choosing, such as mastering the art of speechcraft, woodworking, alchemy, or any art approved by their knight. VIII. All aspiring knights will be well versed in the culture, geography and institutions of the Commonwealth. Squires will be tested on these topics by completing a test of knowledge administered by their knight mentor in a method of their choosing. Once all these trials and trainings are complete, a squire will undertake the Knights Quest. The Knights Quest A Knight of the Petrine Laurel is an exemplar of the values of Petra, and as such must accrue a degree of renown throughout Petra for their deeds. This journey is not a one-off process, instead being the sum total of many efforts spent aiding those within the realm. Their story must be one which does not ultimately only contain the slaying of a monster, for any sell-sword could do such if well enough prepared, instead, this story must demonstrate the qualities of the knight. Should the knight under which a squire pursues their Knights Quest perish during its duration, the squire shall be overseen by the Knight Commander and allotted the rest of their time under their tutelage. Should they fail in their quest, they shall be required to squire once more under another knight until such a time they feel it fit to be given a second chance. Ultimately, whether the story of renown any squire is worthy of ascending to the mantle of Knight of the Petrine Laurel rests amongst the members themselves. Once a squire has completed their Knights Quest, a meeting of the Round Table shall be called. Each knight shall review and judge the story of the prospective knight, with a majority of three-fourths of the vote being required to admit a new knight to the Petrine Laurel. Once a squire has been voted in, the Archduke or Archduchess is made aware and a knighting ceremony will be held. On the night before the ceremony, the squire will undertake a vigil in the Temple of the Exalted Prophets of the Canon to prepare themselves spiritually for the task of becoming a knight. The squire will be required to fast and reflect on themselves in silence. Once the vigil is completed, the squire is ready to be knighted. Knighting Upon completion of all steps required of a squire, the Knight Commander shall present their legend before the Court or Monarch. Once the tale has been told, the Monarch, Regent, or Chancellor presiding shall knight the squire, bestowing upon them a Moniker worthy of a Knight of the Petrine Laurel, and the legend that they have told. THE PLEDGES OF THE KNIGHT THE FOUR CHIVALRIES I swear to be Valiant in the face of all Odds. I swear to be Fearless in the face of Uncertainty. I swear to be Loyal to GOD and Country. I swear to be Dutiful to Family and my People. THE PLEDGE OF SEVEN MERCIES I swear to Feed the Hungry. I swear to give Drink to the Thirsty. I swear to Clothe the Naked. I swear to Harbour the Harbourless. I swear to pay Visit to the Ill. I swear to allow Meetings to the Imprisoned. I swear to Bury the Dead. KNIGHTS KNIGHT VALUES All Knights of the Petrine Laurel are held to a high standard of honor and loyalty, dedicating their lives to upholding the values of chivalry and the laws of the realm. Alongside the oaths that they swear upon their knighting, their duties are as follows; I. To protect the Ruling Family of the Petra II. To uphold Canonism and its beliefs III. To protect the defenseless, and the people of Petra IV. To act with honor and chivalry V. To work to dislodge and keep out darkspawn and evil from the lands of Petra KNIGHTLY CHAPTERS The Order of the Petrine Laurel contains two chapters within it. These are the Chapter of Rapids, the Chapter of Brooks, and the Chapter of Waves. I. The Chapter of Rapids stands as a military and armed force, upholding the laws of chivalry, their pledges and duties II. The Chapter of Brooks stands as a literary and civil force, upholding governmental and civil institutions, history, and literary works. They may be asked to fulfill duties of the Chapter of Rapids if they are capable. KNIGHT DUTIES & RULES I. The Knights of Petrine Laurel are not only well-trained combatants but may be utilized in many different ways. II. The Archduke or Archduchess may ask the Knights to sit as advisors on their Council, with their view from their direct experiences among the Heartlands. III. Knights will be called upon to act in defense of the Commonwealth of the Petra, Kingdom of Numendil and its allied nations in conflict, generally seeking to end bloodshed. The Knights will work closely with the levy on this matter. IV. Each knight is expected to seek out a successor. Knights may only have one squire at a time. V. Knights may be expected to go on missions and investigations for the Crown or Nation. If they must be gone for a long period of time, they may temporarily allow their squire to train under another knight until they return. VI. If a Knight has not actively gone on patrol, participated in tournaments, or gone to knight meetings for 5 years, they will be stripped of their Knighthood unless the Knight Commander is made aware of the reason for their absence. If a Knight breaks their oath, they are also stripped of their knighthood. If it is a severe infraction, there may be more consequences VII. Knights are required to retire at the age of 90, although they are allowed to retire earlier if they wish. KNIGHT COMMANDER The Knight Commander is the head of the Petrine Laurel and is in charge of the Petran Military, having the final say over the Laurel. The Petrine Laurel shall vote for their preferred choice of Commander and it shall be confirmed by the Archduke or a Regent. THE LEVÉE The Levée The Knighthood does not stand alone. Their honor is upheld by a host of men and women who form the Order’s true strength in war. The levy, the Men-at-Arms and the Sergeants. the professional soldiery who march beneath the banner of the Commonwealth. Where knights embody the ideals of chivalry, and values held dear by the Commonwealth, it is the Levy that bears the grind of campaign life: they dig the trenches, man the walls, hold the line, man the patrols and bleed in the clash of a shieldwall. The Sergeants keep them disciplined, trained, their steel clean and sharp. Those who wish to attain the status of Sir or Dame, must first learn the ways of war. They must join The Levy and serve a minimum of 5 years and reach the rank of Homme d’Ordonnance / Man-at-Arms, only a professional soldier may enter the ranks of our Knighthood. ✧ Maître-Sergeant (Master Sergeant) ✧ The veterans of veterans. With a decade or more of service, these men and women are the steady hand of the Order. They have weathered countless campaigns and are entrusted with guiding younger sergeants and recruits alike. Requirement: ✧ Sergeant ✧ Seasoned veterans who have proven themselves time and again in the line of duty. A sergeant is entrusted if needed to take command and lead the men in battle, to keep the order, and carry the banner of Petra with honor. They are smiths, forging our men into hardened steel, they instill discipline, loyalty, and drills. A Knight can rely upon a Sergeant with zero doubt. Requirement: ✧ Homme d’Ordonnance (Guard / Man-at-Arms) ✧ The professional soldier, hardened by years of service. These guards know the ways of war, and the threats that stalk the lands of the Arch-Duchy, from marauders to darkspawn of the realm. They are disciplined, loyal, and steadfast. The Order can readily rely upon a Man-at-Arms to hold the line and safeguard the Realm. Requirement: ✧ Levymen (Recruit) ✧ Newly Levied into the Order. Petran men and women freshly called to arms, the levymen are the lifeblood of Petra’s military. They come to the Order untested, untrained, bearing a little more than their oath and steel. Their objective is simple: to learn the ways of war, the ways of the Order, to endure the drills and hardships of becoming a Homme d’Ordonnance. No minimum requirements:

THE CONTRACT I. Purpose Let it be known that the Paradisian Guild and the Grand Kingdom of Urguan have entered into good faith and mutual cooperation. The Guild shall establish a hall and base of operations within dwarven lands to coordinate missions, provide employment to any sanctioned military order, and contribute to the security and prosperity of the region. II. Terms of Cooperation The Paradisian Guild may offer paid contracts to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan’s Legion, and levied people, allowing them to take part in sanctioned expeditions, escort duties, and defensive missions within the lands of Urguan. The Guild shall ensure fair compensation for all services rendered, with payment reflecting the nature and danger of each task. The Grand Kingdom of Urguan grants the Guild permission to operate and reside within its territory, so long as its members uphold Urguan law and conduct themselves with honor. Both parties agree to act in good faith, with transparency and shared intent to strengthen order and stability across the Southern Mountain Valleys. The Grand Kingdom of Urguan will aid the guild in establishing protected trade routes as per the Traders Protection Act established. III. Duration This accord shall remain valid until either party sees fit to amend or withdraw from its terms, provided due notice is given. Signed in the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, Ulfar Kazzarathsson of the Elder Clan Starbreaker, The Grand King of the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, Thane of the Elder Clan Starbreaker, Kahl of Kaz’ad Nolvaraz, High Lord Golemancer, God Father of the DON Grand Marshal of Dungrimm’s Legion ADVENTURA EST FORIS LOUIS II, Vice-Guildmaster of the Pradasian Adventurers Guild

A CONTRACT FULFILLED GUILD FIELD CONTRACT REPORT Filed by: [Louis II, Vice-Guildmaster, Petra Chapter House] Location of Operation: [Outskirts of Riviense] I. MISSION OBJECTIVE The Vice-Guildmaster seeks to squash a dangerous cult that has taken root within the lands of the Archduchy. His network has informed him that there is a patrol of cultists operating alongside the north eastern outskirts of Petra. Recover their heads as proof of kill. II. OPERATING PARTY Rank / Role Name Order Status Grandmaster Lothric Order of Helwyr Active Orderman Pepe Order of Helwyr Wounded Orderman Irulan Order of Helwyr Active Orderman Adonael Order of Helwyr Active III. ACTION SUMMARY The Order of Helwyr departed the northern gates and set off on their hunt for the cutlist patrol. They managed to successfully ambush the Cultists and engage in combat. A brief skirmish ensued; all Cultists were slain and beheaded. They were brought back to the Guild and passed verification. Minor to Moderate wounds were sustained. IV. RESULTS & VERIFICATION Objective Status: ✅ Completed Proof Submitted: 4 heads of confirmed cultists Reward: 20 mina per head — Total: 80 mina Verification Officer: [Louis II / Vice-Guildmaster] THE MISSION In the Military District one could see many workers going in and out of a building hurriedly. The Paradisian Guild was setting up a Chapter House within the capital of Petra. Within a Vice-Guildmaster giving the Order of Helwyr their first contract. The Vice-Guildmaster eyed the Ordermen of Helwyr. “The Guildmaster has high hopes for the Odre of the Petrine, and for the Order of Helwyr…” he stated plainly as he briefed them on their first contract. To kill and bring back the heads of cultists that seem to be rising in activity in the area, terrorizing the populace and harming current trade routes. Soon after the Vice-Guildmaster said his farewells and wished them luck in battle before continuing guiding the workers leaving the rest to deliberate amongst themselves. Lothric “We'll engage from afar and advance once their archers are dead, then.” His head bobbed once before he replied, “We'll search them for any strange icons, too - things that might answer more questions than a corpse can.” Adonael Amethil: “We have only three of us. Lothric, once we have confirmed their location, give me time to prepare. I can make up for the lack in our numbers.” he said as he tucks a dagger into his belt and stands up. Lothric sidestepped and gestured for Irulan to follow alongside him. He began to brief her, rambling a summary of their discussion. “…We'll be going on foot. Stealthy engagement….” As they set off on their mission, they began to reach the Autumn woodlands. “Hold up.” said Irulan as they clambered up onto the lifted roots, bracing herself on the ashen tree-trunk. From her position, she looked down into the sloping treeline, looking for signs. “Quiet, now,” said Lothric “Keep close to the trees and move swiftly.” As the Ordermen traversed the Autumn Meadows, they would feel a sinister aura lingering, the faint smell of blood, the taint of rot. So far there was nothing in the clearing ahead, but they slowly continued onwards with their hunt. “.. Smell that?” said Irulan, but the expression which dawned on her face and her tone indicated she knew that they had picked up that same scent. The group came to a slow stop at the top of this embankment. Irulan clambers upon the roots of a tree, peering off. The scent of rot and blood lingers in the air. Lothric's nose wrinkled as they drew closer to the clearing. The scent of decay seemed rather strong, even at a distance. His brows furrowed as he continued forward, albeit slowly. He placed his boots between clutches of leaves and dry grass - avoiding crunching them underfoot. “Yeah,” he spoke plainly, his tone low and measured. Pepe de Trastámara would continue his walking inwards through the treelines, his Helwyr garb making barely a sound, padfoot treatments granting him an array of stealth that is grand to hold. He would crouch to the ground, eyes of acuity seemingly scanning the --- area for any foe. During this, the Helwyrs spellblade would have drawn his arbalest, not loading it just yet so as to not strain the bowstring. Irulan stooped low behind the roots, but pointed out into the clearing. Something morbid lay in the grasses far ahead. The clearing was large, the forest surrounding this giant empty circle of grass and fauna, if it was another day it would have been a beautiful trek through these lands, but an open field on a mission such as this, it was a death trap. “Should we follow the treeline left?” Irulan suggested “With our backs to the mountains- I think that'd be a safe bet.”. Suddenly a murder of crows raised into the air, towards the east, lothric's gaze lingered on the distant, grisly scene. His left hand tightened around his shield-grip as he said, “See that?” - “Just so, Irulan. Left, rotating clockwise to get nearer. We can get a bit closer, yet still maintain our cover.” His gaze scanned the flying crows before dropping down to the opposite edge of the clearing. Irulan's eyes lifted to follow the crows. She set her jaw, and then those golden orbs flooded with silverlight until they became entirely opaque. A wispy fog rose from her form, and fell like upwards drifting tears at the corners of her eyes, connected. Adonael Amethil: “Walk around the trees. Catch them from the side. Allow me a moment, Lothric. I can summon my wolves now.”. “There'd be more noise as we travel through,” Lothric warned. “Let us wait until we are closer, then.” Adonael nodded as he continued to follow his brothers-in-arms. Lothric strode onward, still stepping clear of dry leaves and grasses as he went. Irulan began moving leftward, slipping a bolt from her belt-quiver. Pallid fingers turned ashen and then formed blackened claws. Fog mixed with flakes of ashy smoke as she breathed out. Some odd mixture of aura and .. Something else. She flicked a blackened claw along the bolt-head, inscribing into it a rune instilled with a rumbling heat. The arrowhead became alight with a steady flame. She carried it for now. “I'll provide cover,” she said, crouching behind a root. The elf loaded that flaming bolt. “You three move to the next tree-line “…Let's skirt the base of the mountain. Quick as we can. … On the other side, Adonael. There, you should be free.” His head bobbed towards Irulan before he braced in preparation. Adonael Amethil's gaze casts to the nearby trees, curious were he to find any scouts over the small space. [!] Towards the South East another noise could be heard, laughter. The stench of blood carried by the wind grew stronger. It seems they were very close, and unseen. “I’ll summon now, Lothric.” He urges more this time, gritting his teeth at the smell. Queasy to blood, this elf was. Irulan lay her loaded crossbow atop the roots so that it could be utterly stable. She shouldered it, and returned her attention to the south-east treeline, even as fog and mist whipped about her focused form. Pepe de Trastámara would nod to the words of Irulan, placing his arbalest away upon his back, instead a small runic glyph flashing upon his grasp as a sword of castle forged steel appears within his hands. Along with this glyph would the singular eye of Pepe glow golden , and a distinct picking up of a draft of winds around the Helwyr spellblade. Lothric's lips drew into a line as the noise. “…Very well, Adonael.” He stepped close, then quickly marched in tandem with Pepe to cross the clearing and enter the opposing line of trees. Adonael Amethil's hand reaches forward. His spelltome rises from his side, and opens wide. Words dance across the pages, lifting up as black ink that flies into three large dots before him. From within these dots, flesh and sinew begin to sprout, forming into a trio of beating hearts in the air, rapidly growing bone and muscle from it, extending further until three skinless wolves sat before him. Fur and eyes came last. The hounds do not make a noise, entirely subservient to their maker. Adonael grimaces, “I can control only this many with precision.” Moments before battle… Lothric and Pepe would see the patrol come into view, they were still hidden and as the rain began to fall, so did it dampen their sound…. Irulan made her best imitation of an owl's cry. A warning to her companions as they continued down the embankment. Adonael Amethil gestures forward, and two wolves follow closely behind Lothric and Pepe. A third remains between Adonael and Irulan. The wolves hunkered down low to the ground, making no noise but for their paws on wet grass. Adonael begins forward, to the right to avoid being seen hopefully. Lothric sank down against the stones and lowered his shield. He peered back towards the others and awaited further information; his head of platinum hair would be too visible if he tried observing the enemies himself at such a close range. His breathing stilled and a silent rasp of steel matched the pattering of rainfall - he lay in the grass against that stone, armed and alert. The cultist patrol finally came into view, chainmail and plate rattled as they wielded arming swords and shields. They chattered amongst themselves before one stopped in his tracks as he looked left…. Irulan immediately released her crossbow, poised and aimed upon that party of cultists. The one who turned left, within her sights. A metallic thud rang out as her bow released a flaming bolt in his direction! FWMP! The Cultist warrior that turned was about to shout as his eyes widen seeing the Ordermen come out of the wood works. But Irulan's bolt pierced his skull, he saw pitch black after that. In the realm of the living his body slumped to the ground alerting the rest of the warriors. They screamed their war cries before charging towards the Helwyr. Night fell. The skirmish had begun. Immediately upon spotting the patrol Pepe placed the helmet hanging off of his belt and atop his head, there would be a sudden conjuring of the winds draft upon a sphere of seemingly pure mana arcing ferociously encased in a pocket of air floating above the helwyr. He would move forward, blade in hand, his footsteps light and without sound from the cascading of the rain and the treatments of padfoot. If the men could not see, Pepe de Trastamara would be akin to a Ghost. The three wolves all begin to rush forward. They do not bunch up, but spread out, intending on acting as a wide-spread 'wall' between the Helwyr group and them. Adonael himself hits the floor, laying in the grass and peeking out from a prone position. Absolutely muddy. As the bolt whistled overhead and landed true, Lothric immediately braced himself against the dirt and pushed - forcing himself up to his feet with the shield between himself and the group of cultists. He charged in the wake of one wolf, ashen irises flickering across the field to assess the positions of who remained - and their armaments. It seemed he was focused on approaching the nearest tree for added cover. “Archer next,” Lothric bellowed to nobody in particular. He strode forth, bridging more of the gap between himself and the cultist warrior before him. His blade rose and rested flat against the edge of his shield, which stood between himself and the warrior being attacked by the wolf. Irulan couldn't help but flash a grin as her bolt struck true and the man collapsed a moment later. She rose up, and with that she became alight with moonlit fog. It snarled around her form, snatching at the winds which began to whip about her The singular cultist archer would lock in on Pepe, drawing his bow as he aimed towards his chest. He let go and an arrow flew in the air. The wind which surged around Irulan now reached its full potential. Encompassed in a vortex of moonlit vapors, this barrier expanded out to reach a 4 metre radius, capable of halting projectiles as powerful as those delivered by a crossbow. She maintained a focus on this spell solely, her teeth gritted. Mist spilled from her nostrils with each ragged exhale. The elf moved forward, determined to defend her friends from further attacks. “Adonael! With me!” Adonael Amethil moves up along with Irulan to not be flung about by her barrier! “Ah - That's so cool!” Pepe de Trastámara would have an arrow loose upon his chest, his attempted rush being met purely with sheer force. The winds gathering around the Scion, would be dissipated by the pain. In return, he would continue moving towards battle, his blade dragging against the --- ground as he moved forth to the archer that loosed the arrow upon him. A distinct vengeance within his eyes, one of them glowing fiercely as a distinct aura of heat would emanate from the helwyr, he plans to grant pain. As he would rush forth, the Mad Helwyr cackled as he moved close to the Archer who was unable to defend themselves within the range. His steel blade rushed in for a stab right upon the upper chest region of the archer, and in the meanwhile a spark of flame would spark upon the free hand of Pepe, his plan of revenge coming to fruition! As Pepe stabbed the archer, his blade would sink into his chest as the cultist screamed in pain. He eyed Pepe with pure hatred before his body went limp… The last remaining wolf would charge the Cultist Warrior, but he was prepared, he swiftly struck down the wolf killing it. He let our a roar as he cursed the Ordermen. Adonael Amethil: “Right…” Adonael frowns when hie last wolf falls. The corpses melting into nothing. Instead he brings one hand up, and once more ink moves up from his pages. The relatively tired looking elf narrows his eyes, and the ink would move into an orb before his other hand, which ignites into a fire, blazing gold and the size of a fist. He murmurs to his wife. The closest remaining cultist warrior would quickly begin his charge towards Irulan, screaming curses at them, the stench of blood and rot was strong…Adonael Amethil steps to the right then, and lifts his spell up. That projectile of his flying off towards Cultist Warrior C, a mot of flame. He knew it would be going into the field of air, so he calls aloud - “Irulan, drop your barrier!” Irulan's grin faltered some as she recalled she was, in fact, not a scion anymore. Irulan heeded the caution of Adonael and in an instant the winds vanished. Though fog did whisper about the ground at her feet - stirring when the cultist came charging through it. The cultist got to about an inch of Irulan before she vanished, leaving behind a silhouette of fog. A streak of silver light zipped backwards and to the right, where she re-appeared in a burst of vapors. She staggered out of that translocation, her head spinning. The Warrior would fall to his knees as the projectile burned him, he screamed in agony as he dropped to the floor…. Adonael Amethil turns around to face the woods. His focus upon any others that may be watching, keeping a lookout. He trusted the big lads to get the last warrior. “Yikes..” Irulan grimaced, turning to see the cultist collapse into a heap of smouldering remains. She glanced at Adonael with a stupid grin on her face, impressed. Her aura subsided as she disconnected, but still replenished her crossbow by cranking it back, using her boot to aid with leverage. “Charming.” Pepe de Trastámara came from behind, his silent steps proving themselves handy as his sword now ENWREATHED IN COMBUSTIVE FLAME would be now ready to deliver his strike. A horrific stab that would be plunged into the unprotected back of the Cultist. And upon its contact upon the Cultist, a devastating KABOOM would ring out through the forests! Birds flying away from their nests, for there be an explosion! Lothric's gaze flickered from the oncoming attack, to Pepe, and back again. He bladed his body towards the cultist and their sword landed square against his armored shoulder and scraped down, delivering a shallow cut onto the high elf's shoulder. He lurched to the side, making way for Pepe's final explosive strike to land upon the remaining cultist. As Pepe swung his flaming sword upon the back of Cultist, it would break his spine, and a loud CRACK could be heard. The Cultist Warrior eyes rolled back as Pepe's sword hit…. The cultist patrol has been slain, The Guild shall be pleased. The Order of Helwyr had proven their worth.

THE CONTRACT I. Purpose Let it be known that the Paradisian Guild and the Archduchy of Petra have entered into good faith and mutual cooperation. The Guild shall establish a hall and base of operations within Petran lands to coordinate missions, provide employment to any sanctioned military order, and contribute to the security and prosperity of the region. II. Terms of Cooperation The Paradisian Guild may offer paid contracts to Petra’s soldiers, knights, and levied men, allowing them to take part in sanctioned expeditions, escort duties, and defensive missions within the lands of the Petran Commonwealth. The Guild shall ensure fair compensation for all services rendered, with payment reflecting the nature and danger of each task. The Archduchy of Petra grants the Guild permission to operate and reside within its territory, so long as its members uphold Petran law and conduct themselves with honor. Both parties agree to act in good faith, with transparency and shared intent to strengthen order and stability across the Autumn Meadows. III. Duration This accord shall remain valid until either party sees fit to amend or withdraw from its terms, provided due notice is given. Signed in Riviense, HIS GRACE, Joseph Antonius Aurèle, Archduke of the Petran Commonwealth, Duke of Seviel, Marquis de Riviènse & Val d’Estenou, Count of Moere, Neraquelles, Temesch, Torm Marian, and Vallagne, Viscount of Mies, Baron of Eagles Peak, Garmont, Hrenthorne, and Resmore, Protector of the Meadows. Therin Thelonius, Knight Commander of the Petrine Laurel Lothric Vihai’lyu, Grandmaster of the Order of Helwyr ADVENTURA EST FORIS LOUIS II, Vice-Guildmaster of the Paradisian Adventurers Guild

hey we can finally sketch wanted criminals, nice!

If 1.9 ever returns, then future conflicts will be decided by the top pvpers. You'll see 15 v 30s with 15 winning due to the skill gap between the two. 1.8 makes it simple for everyone to join and contribute.

This is neat, thank you!

Nice also brutal 😢

@lemonke It's a good read, only tid bit I have would be no armor for a darkstalker, a higher tier of undead. I understand the concern of Min-Max players, and even I use plate for my Darkstalker, but removing the ability to don armor just seems like a big nerf. I would say maybe just set it to half-plate as a compromise? Ghouls as a lower tier of undead, already have limitations on armor, removing that from a Darkstalker which is suppose to be higher in the heirarchy seems off. A Necromancers undead knight that excels in combat should be able to done proper armor. The reality is, players will use blunt weapons and if no armor is present, darkstalkers will just be much more easier to kill than before. Although if this fixes a current issue of too many min-maxers being annoying on their darkstalker - I get it and agree. Hopefully that's not the case, its been awhile since I've played my own darkstalker.

what do you want to see more events of?

☨ “Unwavering Under The Sun” Before the break of dawn, Jorg stood guard, fully dressed in his house armor, his grip upon the pommel of his longsword grew tiresome. The cool morning air sent shivers down his spine, he glanced around the walls nodding to the rest of the men who anxiously waited for what was to come. No one dared to run, hide, it wouldn’t do them any good if they did. This was their home, many thought that if they needed a reason to put their life on the line, this was good enough. They thought of their family, their children. They thought of the sounds of the Grenswacht horns blowing in the valley, the earth shaking sound of a cavalry on the move. They thought of war. Would they make it out alive, will they get to see their loved ones again. The Sun then began to rise, and with it the sound of the Grenswacht march slowly approached in the distance. It was time. 400 Petrans | 200 Hyspian vs est. 4,000 Enemy Forces Jorg von Theonus yelled from the walls taunting the enemy, before letting out a laugh as he dropped questionably acquired soil upon the Grenswacht. The enemy stormed the walls quickly, flooding into the courtyard. Jorg and the rest of House Theonus went out to meet them with steel. The difference in numbers was too great, Jorg and the rest of his kin who stayed were captured alongside the hyspians who stood to help. As the battle went to its final moments, the Grenswacht had prevailed in the very heart of Vissingren. Blood pooled in the gaps of the stones that made up the castle, the standards of Theonus shredded and trampled beneath the feet of armor-clad men. Having taken their enemies and desecrated the throne of Vissingren, the Grenswacht set the chamber ablaze. As the retinue left the grounds, black smoke swirled high into the sky. Vissingren has fallen. [!] [ ☣ | ʙᴀɢ ᴏꜰ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟʏ ᴀᴄQᴜɪʀᴇᴅ ꜱᴏɪʟ ] ☨ [ OOC ] Big thanks for the Grense folks @Tide1 for keeping it clean and smooth! We had some fun with it! : )

☨ Jörg von theonus would sign the Lorraine "Soul, Honor, and Dignity" he repeated as he lit a candle and began to pray.

✠ ✠ ✠ Jörg stood in the armory's faint light, his rough hands following the old engravings on the breastplate of his house armor. The steel, battered but unbroken, held the scars of generations—dents from wars won, scratches from conflicts long forgotten. With habitual ease, he secured the cumbersome cuirass on his aging shoulders, the weight both comforting and onerous. The scent of oiled leather and cold iron filled his lungs as he strapped on the gauntlets, his fists clenched. He was not the same young man who had first worn this armor, but the years had not blunted his resolve. Far off, the horns of the Grenswacht brayed out across the valley, announcing the storm to come. Jörg drew a deep breath, settling his sword at his hip. If this was to be his end, he would face it as his forefathers had done before him—helmeted, armed, and unwavering under the sun.

ORDER OF THE BLACK SUN Heralds of the Age of Umbrage, Devourers of Light Before the break of dawn, there was only the Dark. It was boundless, eternal, and absolute—untainted by the folly of creation. Then came the searing fire, the cursed light of the so-called divine, encasing mortals in flesh and chaining them to the curse of death. The Order of the Black Sun exists to rectify this mistake. Led by Darkreavers, sages of the grand cosmic truths, we march as a warband of the unfettered—undead warriors who have discarded the frailty of flesh and the oppression of the gods. We do not worship the gods, nor do we acknowledge their feeble dominion. We are the initiates of real power, those who pursue the Age of Umbrage, when Transcendents alone will rule, and the choking light of creation will be devoured by endless, unbroken shade. By the Way of Umbrage, we uncover the universe, unlocking the secrets hidden in its shrouded abyss. We employ forbidden knowledge, converse with the sacred darkness of the Void, and do the bidding of the Black Sun—our symbol of destruction. We are executioners of the divine, deconstructors of celestial falsehood, and the final word in the war on false eternity. Let the light be extinguished. Let the Dark ascend. The Black Sun shall devour everything. To All Those Who Crave Darkness and Chaos, To you who envision slaughter unfettered by chains, who wish to profane the laws of god and man—listen. If you would tear the world apart, kill without pity, see the light shrivel and perish under an eternal black sun, then step forward. Banners of feigned virtue and feeble kings shall not prevail against us. We are the heralds of the apocalypse, the storm that inundates the land with night. No creed, no kingdom, no sacred order shall be able to stem the torrent of our vengeance. If you desire to stake your claim to true power, if you would leave your mark upon the bones of this world, then mail your letter and consecrate your soul. I, Deadmund, Knight Paramount of the Order of The Black Sun, await your devotion with anticipation. A levyman of the Order [ Send a bird to Petsch2k | Deadmund ] A Statement from DeadMen Management™ CLICK BELOW TO JOIN!

— GRAND BUREAU DU RÉGISMONT — The Treasurer (right) & The Steward of Commerce (left) reviewing government ledgers, 1938 Issued and averred by His Excellency, JÖRG von THEONUS Atstana de Regne Petrare 161 ABOUT THE TREASURY The Office of The Treasury is responsible for the kingdom’s economic health, finance, revenue, taxation policy and general administrative management of property. Those in this office have a duty to ensure that coin flows like a river throughout this great Commonwealth. — THE ROYAL TREASURY OF THE PETRA — THE GRAND TREASURER, held by Jörg von Theonus | @Petsch2k The Grand Treasurer oversees the Commonwealth’s treasury, ensuring responsible management of finances, as well as the efficient collection of taxes. They meticulously document and track income and expenditures, maintaining transparency and accountability in financial matters. The Grand Treasurer takes on a role of seniority within the Office, playing a crucial role in economic health, taxation policy, and administrative management. Additionally, they oversee housing initiatives and census operations in Petra, welcoming newcomers and aiding in their integration into the kingdom. The Grand Treasurer ensures the effective functioning of their office to support the overall prosperity of the Commonwealth. DEPUTY TREASURER, held by Symon Morris Stafyr | @FabledFoxxo The Deputy Treasurer is appointed by the Grand Treasurer and functions as the Treasurers right hand. This Petran’s task includes, but is not limited to drafting missive’s, representing the Treasurer in their absence and/or managing the three branches of the Treasury. The Deputy Treasurer duties are summarized as followed: The administrative & organizational work of the Treasurer’s office Ensuring all ledgers of the Kingdom are up to date and or improved upon as needed Communicating effectively with other Offices that work in tandem with The Treasury. CHÂTELAIN OF STEWARDRY The Châtelain of Stewardry acts as High Steward and oversees the administration of the Capital city and its outskirts, as well as the maintenance of the Queen’s road. They are tasked with hiring trustworthy Petrans to assist them in their tasks as Stewards of Vallagne. Additionally the High Steward oversees any construction within the Crownlands under close cooperation with the Crown and Treasury. The High Steward duties are summarized as followed: The administrative & properties of the Commonwealth Ensuring all ledgers of the Kingdom are up to date and or improved upon as needed Communicating effectively with other Offices that work in tandem with The Treasury. CHÂTELAIN OF COMMERCE The Châtelain of Commerce acts as Royal Merchant and Trader. They are tasked with managing the Crown shops both nationally and internationally, in an effort to maximise the Commonwealth’s profits. To improve efficiency they are entrusted to hire trustworthy Petran’s to aid in their projects and work closely together with the Grand Treasurer, to make sure that the related Ledgers are in order. Additionally the Châtelain of Commerce is to manage workers with the goal of gathering resources to keep both the crown’s shops and storage stocked for any possible projects. The Royal Merchant duties are summarized as followed: Administrating the stores of the Commonwealth Keeping up to date with the cost of goods Ensuring all ledgers of the Kingdom are up to date and or improved upon as needed Communicating effectively with other Offices that work in tandem with The Treasury. CHÂTELAIN OF LABOR The Châtelain of Labor is one of our most crucial departments, they are the backbone of this kingdom as it’s charged with ensuring our vaults are stocked with countless neccesities that keep this kingdom running. They are responsible to meet the demands of the Goverment with ample supply and promote a steady stream of employment for our citizens to ensure the Treasury never fails the Commonwealth in times of need. The Châtelain of Labor duties are summarized as followed: The allocation of resources to several Offices & Our Military The facilitation of labor to gather resources to supply the various ventures of the House of Petra The upkeep of the Treasury Vaults. CHÂTELAIN OF IMMIGRATION The Châtelain of Immigration acts in the interest of newcomers to the Commonwealth. They are tasked with welcoming newcomers and ensuring that their integration into Petran society runs smoothly. The Châtelain of Immigration works closely together with the River Court, the Blades of Saint Emma and other Petran institutions to ensure that each citizen finds their place within the Petran ranks. WARDSHIPS In Accordance with The River Courts structure The Treasurer’s Office may employ young Petrans as wards to learn the proper functioning of the Treasury and all its branches. Those interested may approach the Royal Consort or Grand Chamberlain, so that they can organise such and place a ward under either of the Treasury’s posts. As is custom, these wards will be held to the Pledge of the Seven Mercies. O SAINTE RÈGNE PETRÉRE HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Therin Adil, by the Grace of God, King of the Petra, Prince of Abrana, Marquise de Val d’Estenou, Count of Temesch, Torm Marian, Brasca, and Moere, Viscount of Mies, Baron of Garmont, Vallagne-en-Petra, Eagles Peak, Hrenthorne, and Resmore, and of the Phoenixspire, Defender of Liberty HIS EXCELLENCY, Jörg von Theonus, The Grand Treasurer of Petra, Royal Merchant of Petra, President of the Icathian Company

Jörg smiled upon the grand history of his house. He felt immense pride. "Unwavering under the Sun!"

THE UNDEAD RAID OF SOLLAND 18th of the First Seed, 219 S.A. It was a peaceful morning within the Commonwealth, children played in the streets, knights and soldiers speaking kindly to the citizenry. The tavern was lively, by all accounts all was normal. Suddenly people started speaking out, calling out that something was on the horizon towards the east. A dark ominous plume of black smoke, billowing upward in thick, rolling clouds, again the pale blue sky. Its signal was undeniable, veteran knights and soldiers would halt, standing still for a moment, their expression changed. They had seen war before, they could feel it deep in their gut, that unmistakable dread sharpened by experience. A raid. Towards the east lay the Solland Hamlets, and no merchant’s hearth fire or field blaze would send such a warning. Hands found the hilts of swords, murmurs filled the streets of Vallagne, and across the city the uneasy silence before the storm took hold. Soon after the Knight Commander, Sir Artair von Theonus, began the call to arms, knights and soldiers readied themselves to ride east. The Knight Commander quickly climbed towards the eastern walls of Vallagne to scout the horizon. The smoke from the Solland Hamlets thickened, choking the sky in an unnatural black. Fires raged, destroying and devouring homes and fields, yet something was off. The Commander could tell, this was different, the wind carried more than the acrid bite of burning wood and flesh—it carried something fouler, something rotten. Then it struck him. The putrid, unmistakable stench of the undead. His grip tightened on the cold steel of his blade as a chill ran through him. The Commander rode at the head of the column, his voice steady as he barked orders, he rallied the men beneath Petra’s banners. Hooves thundered against the dirt, the earth shook as they rode towards the Hamlets, yet as they neared, they slowed, stopping just before the threshold of fire and death. The air was thick with smoke, but worse still were the sounds. The distant, harrowing screams of the peasantry, the guttural moans of the undead, the sickening wet crunch of something feeding. The flames painted over the darkening evening, flickering hues of orange and black, the burning village a scar against the land, an image none would soon forget. For the veterans of the rally, knights and soldiers alike, this was war. But for the younger ones, those who had never seen battle beyond training yards and drills, a fearful dread crept into their bones. Hands tremembers on weapon hilts, beads of sweat formed beneath helmets, breaths quickened. They understood something very clear. Tonight, they might not live to see another dawn. This is what they have signed up for, this is the oath they have taken. To defend these lands, to defend this kingdom, to defend its people. Some made peace with their fate, others couldn’t control their fear, their shaking, they attempted to steel their resolve, but they hoped that they will go back home alive. The Commander took out a war-horn. It was time. As the charge thundered forward, the grim reality of the massacre unfolded before them. The brutal scenery would be seared into the minds of some of the men, what had once been the Solland Hamlets was now a grotesque display of Slaughter. Bodies upon bodies of the peasantry lay strewn across the dirt roads and fields, torn apart in gruesome displays of violence. Some hung upside down from scorched beams, chained together, their blood pooling beneath them in thick, blackened puddles. Others had been disemboweled, their entrails spilled out like offerings to something sinister. The undead moved with purpose, these were no mindless husks, no shambling remnants of men left to rot in rags. These were warriors of death, clad in rusted chainmail, their rotting forms armored and armed. Their shields bore faded sigils of wars long past, and in their hands, black-stained war-axes gleamed with fresh gore, as if the very weapons were feeding upon the blood upon it, and they demanded more. Their hollow eyes, glowing a bluish hue, sunken into decayed faces, carried no life, only flickering embers of dark magik. The remaining peasantry cried for help still alive, screaming in terror, they’d scrambled through the bloodied mud as the undead hacked them down. A woman clutched her child pleading to god and the knights to come save them quickly, only for an armored corpse to cleave her down. A farmer, wielding nothing but a rusted sickle would be swarmed by the undead, his throat crushed beneath the heel of a boot before an axe split his skull in two Even for the veteran knights and soldiers who’ve witness the atrocities of war, this was horror, these things should not exist. As the Commander yelled out a war-cry, the earth trembled beneath the weight of the charge as warhorses crashed into the undead. The shield wall that was formed to counter the Petran levymen crumpled, bodies breaking, bones snapping, yet the undead did not falter. Even as they fell, those still standing fought with terrifying precision, their war-axes rising to meet the knights in grim defiance. The battle had begun in full, and the field of fire and blood was now theirs to claim—or to die upon. The battle was swift and brutal. Within minutes, the last of the undead fell to the ground, lifeless once more. The black-stained war-axes slipped from bony fingers; the rusted armor no longer held together by whatever dark magic had bound them. There came a silence on the battlefield as the crackle of fire and the labored breathing of the surviving knights and soldiers were all that remained to be heard. They had emerged victorious. The undead had fallen. And yet, as they surveyed the ruin, victory felt somewhat hollow. There was nothing left of the Solland Hamlets but charred corpses, shattered houses, and dead streets. The knights were supposed to save these people. But standing among the ruins, staring at wreckage and blood-stained earth, none could feel other than they had come too late. As the fires crackled and the last echoes of battle faded into silence, the survivors began to emerge. From the shattered remains of homes, from beneath fallen carts and within the scorched husks of barns, children crept forward, their small faces streaked with soot and tears. They clutched tattered blankets, gripping one another with shaking hands, their wide eyes filled with fear and confusion. The few surviving peasants, those who had managed to hide from the slaughter, stumbled into the open. Some fell to their knees, their bodies wracked with sobs, crying out the names of loved ones who would never answer again. Others wept quietly, holding onto whatever scraps of their former lives they had left. Some of them looked upon the knights and warriors with gratitude, their voices trembling as they whispered, "Thank you… thank you for saving us." But others—the grieving, the broken, the ones who had lost everything—stared with different eyes. A boy, no older than ten, stepped forward, still shaking with each step; his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His voice broke as he shrieked, "Where were you?!" The question seemed to hang in the air, a dagger that cut deeper than any blade. Some of the knights stood still for a moment. A woman rocked back and forth, clutching the body of her slain husband, her face contorted in anguish. "Why did my mother have to die?" she sobbed, her eyes red-rimmed as she looked up at them. "Where were you?" she repeated. Their cries cut through the night-raw, anguished. For these people, victory had come too late.

Soon. Currently re-working the Order of Deadmen once more, I and a few others wish to provide a ladder for players to attempt good faith villany once more. I have some more time now. It won't be as big as last time, that was due to femurlord's coven ( femur created Deadmund, shout out to @femurlordfor being a good villany mentor and showing me da way. ) + deadmen order. We are aiming to teach players that villany is a tool to drive good narratives for all involved.

woa