Jensen02

Rest of rusted iron In the quiet hours before dawn, as the bells of Reinmar lay silent, Sir Stanton rested in the hearth of his manor. His hands, once steady enough to guide a lance, now rested on the coat of his beloved mastiff. “Once more…” Shakily, a hand rose the ivory flames of Malchadiel flowing from his palm towards the hearth-fire. The fire burnt white forming images, memories of his younger self. Battles both won and lost, moments of camaraderie and betrayal, none of it stirred regret. “I stood when I was needed,” he told himself. “I did not flee when the road grew hard. If that is all a knight of Tylos may ask of himself, then I am content.” Faces passed through the white flames, Comrades long fallen, Chieftains served faithfully, kin raised beneath Reinmar’s walls. He thought of the land itself, the Runestones, the cold mornings, the banners snapping above the city. “Reinmar will endure, with or without me. As she always has.” A faint smile touched his lips. “Let the young bear the sword now. Let them make their own mistakes, their own victories. I Pray….” Stanton's head dipped low, his hand falling from the coat of his mastiff “I pray I've left behind enough for them..” As the last of his strength ebbed, his heart calmed. No battlefield would claim him, no dramatic last stand mark his end, no heroic blaze of glory as his father and uncles had perished in. Sir Stanton Stroheim, the “Iron Stag” released his final breath, his life ended not in valor or fury, but in quiet honor. Sir Stanton Stroheim, The Iron Stag ‘Old Sir Stanton’ Born in 1919 in Neu Brandthoff, Almaris. Died in 2071 in Leonstadt, Azuras “Ūre wrāþu bærneþ” Templar Trophy Count: 3 Final Will For my last rites: Keeping with the tradition of my tribe, I request I be burned along with my most cherished items, most important of all those given to me by my wife, Chi Kagura To Hans Stroheim: I entrust you with the guardianship of the “Helm of the Mad” within the Stroheim reliquary, along with the other cursed objects To Annaliese Stroheim: I bequeath my recipe for narcotic brownies and the Azhl dart “Death's Dance” to you. Once belonging to Lady Viktoria Ivanocich, it is fitting it be left with a lady of our tribe. To Gottbrand Stroheim: I gift you the daemonsteel sword Finisterklinge along with the sheath of flame, along with my first weapon, the Daemonsteel Chain-flail To Dettlaff Stroheim: I entrust you with the general custodianship of our tribe's relics, along with the schematics for Blæcestān. To my fellow Reinmaren: Any and all items not burned with me or bequeath to my kin are to be given to tribesmen of Reinmar to be used as they see fit.

Werew0lf punched me in the face, when I asked him why he said "Its not that I like punching people, I just like being the puncher" Then he jumped 60ft in the air and vanished

Stanton Stroheim reads the missive form within his Manor "Herr GOTT its another Hyperwar, please GOTT just let me die, I've seen enough Hyperwars for one life"

✠ Full Legal Name: Stanton Stroheim ✠ Age (Must be over 18): 132 ✠ Running for Which Seat (Bergman/Folkman of X): Folkman of Leonstadt ✠ Residence (Must be within constituency): Leonstadt ✠ Are you in good standing with the Empire and Church? (Yes/No): Yes ✠ Provide a brief account (100-200 words) of your standing, trade, or service to your community, by which you claim fitness to represent them in the Witenmot: Through my century of service to Reinmar as I have served as both warrior, among the ranks of the ritter , and counselor as a Hirdmen for my Chieftain. Appointed folkman by the moot, my kinsmen decided that I embody the greatest virtues of Reinmar, that being Loyalty, longevity, and tradition.

Gives me Eldenring vibes, and I love it!

"I Love Minitz Reinmar." Echoed an Elder Reinmaren

An elderly Reinmaren Ritter peeks at the Missive title. "Yes, und water flows in Reinmars rivers." He said aloud to himself, before carrying on with his day.

Der Stamm der Stroheim The Stroheim Tribe Written by Stanton von Stroheim in the year of our Lord 2021 House Baratheon soundtrack[GOT] - OURS IS THE FURY The Langenkirch Archives History The origin of Tribe Stroheim begins with its founder, Robert Cervidae, who first found his place amongst the Reinmaren of Minitz. As a man who originally sought personal glory and renown, he soon found kinship amongst the Reinmaren and began living within their Tribal society. Born of noble stock in Aeldin, the young Robert, disliking the limitations of his status, fled from his home, finding refuge in Almaris. During his time wandering the continent he'd meet his future tribe brother Damon, who offered to take Robert to his home of Minitz. Taking him up on his offer, Robert followed along and found his place amongst the Reinmaren of Minitz, spending his days living, fighting and serving with his newfound companions. While living among the Reinmaren he was taken under the wing of the Black Swordsman, Kato Oijin, a few months after his entry into Minitz. Over the course of many years Robert would be given the blessing of Templarism. In that period, he founded his own tribe alongside his colleagues Damon and Teft Barclay. Robert would choose the name “Stroheim” for his tribe, meaning “Straw-Home” as a way to embrace the humbler lifestyle he now lived, when compared to his noble past. Robert's life as a Templar heavily influenced the overall culture of the tribe with following generations of Stroheims striving to become fully fledged warriors with unparalleled fury and courage, many going out of their way to seek worthy beasts and monsters to claim as trophies, whether or not they carried the blessing of Malchediael. Tradition The Tribe of Stroheim embodies the stubborn and competitive nature of the stag upon their banner, with members of the tribe regularly competing and sparring with one another. This environment has clashed with the wrathful nature of Stroheim, with many members being quick to anger or prone to outbursts. This attitude has sometimes led to friendly spars turning into rageful bouts, with death not being an unheard result. Although their relentless fury and preference for violence may make them appear as unruly outcasts, the Tribe of Stroheim is just as boastful as it is wrathful. Consequently, their Tribe consistently mingles and engages with their fellow Reinmaren, often through sharing drinks, stories, or showing off trophies. As the Stroheim brew is the preferred drink within the family, so too do they prefer specific weapons. Most commonly, the warriors of Stroheim wield larger weapons, casting aside anything lesser than a longsword. Two-handed war hammers, great swords and polearms are the most preferred, yet variety can occur. There is one rule within the family concerning weapons, which is the explicit hatred of ranged weaponry. Bows, crossbows or javelins are seen as taboo, with the exception of potions per the influence of the Lectors. The Influence of the Lectors now-Oyashiman extends further, with many Stroheims walking down the path of Templarism. Their aversion to ranged combat and brazen mindset makes them prime candidates to become warriors of Malchediel, the blessing itself is reserved for proven members of the tribe, often being elders and experienced Warriors, with many previously reaching the title of Ritter to further legitimize their worthiness for receiving the blessing. [!] An artist’s rendition of gathered Stroheim Warriors. Funeral Rites In line with Owynist tradition, the Tribe of Stroheim practices cremation upon the bodies of their deceased. This is deemed as necessary to prevent defilement from necromancers and other malicious beings. Like most Reinmaren tribes, Stroheims believe that what they acquire in life may be carried with them in the after-life, so that they may continue to gloat and compare their trophies to their deceased kinsman, thus personal effects and trophies are burned alongside the deceased. Once the flesh has been set aflame, the ashes are collected to either be contained within an urn or scattered upon the familial runestone. By placing the ashes across the runestone it is believed traces of the deceased’s soul will remain to protect and watch over the runestone, their presence offering clarity and guidance to Stroheims who come to pay their respects. Trial of Antlers Though the Tribe of Stroheim boasts a great many orators and skilled alchemists, at the core of the house will it remain one renowned in martial pursuits above all else. It is the goal of a Stroheim then to prove themselves in the eyes of kin, and nothing will do this more than through the slaying of a great beast, before the Stroheim comes of age, no older than eighteen. The Stroheim shall conduct the trial with a trusted member of the Stroheim family, the Princely family, a member of the Herrenhaus, or the Huntmaster of Reinmar. As such, the Stroheim shall venture with their witness into the forest, and seek a great beast within the forests of Ferdenwald, where creatures possess greater aggression and size. Deer, stags or moose are preferable and formidable foes to those young Stroheims. Yet, the most unlucky, or lucky, can find themselves in a bout against a greater beast, such as a westerbear. Death is a real threat during this trial, a great risk to prove oneself as a warrior worthy of the Stroheim name. To follow in the footsteps of those Stroheim of old, who battled beasts as great as dragons and their Spawn. Following a successful hunt it is tradition for the newly proven Stroheim to drink and feast with his fellow Tribesmen until they've reached a state of near unconsciousness. During this heavily inhibited state the Tribesmen will begin to brawl with one another until one remains standing, embodying the competitive nature of their Tribe. [!] An artist’s rendition of a bear-attack within the Ferdenwald. UNSER IST DER ZORN HIS EXCELLENCY, Stanton Stroheim, Ritter-Kastellan of the Order of Saint Tylos, Patriarch of House Stroheim

During is surveys of the region, before the land had been settled by Reinmaren, Sir Stanton Stroheim felt an unease lingering from the monastery of Belvedere. What would have been fear stirred into hatred within the Templar, hatred that continued to fester with every year that monastery remained standing. As his people left the monastery victorious Stanton felt an overwhelming catharsis wash over him, a thorn prodding at the edges of his mind had finally been removed. "It took decades to see that placed purged of evil, Thank God I lived long enough to play my part and see it done."