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Everything posted by StormKnight_737
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Dumacracy Triumphs | Salvo Reborn
StormKnight_737 replied to Zqppy's topic in Grand Principality of Ravenmire
Captain Wayne Vyrona laughs heartily, holding up his glass. "Aye! That it is my liege, that it is. Long live Salvo, long live the Great Houses, long live the Light!" -
ravenmire From Unity comes Strength
StormKnight_737 replied to Pegleg_Bob's topic in The Church of the True Faith
Wayne tips his hat, smiling. "Quite fun if I do say so myself." He turns to Peter, smiling. “It was good to see Antium there too. Ultio truly is a good man.” -
Wayne sniffs, before rubbing at his nose. Damn cold was coming on again. Turning back to his writing, he finishes penning the letter to the Lord Captain Commander Alessandria. "Aye. Seems that they've got some things left to uncover. The Great Houses will meet to discuss, but it seems we may have to move forward with our current plans. I'd make Ravenmire aware, House Vyrona is willing to speak on the terms you mentioned were discussed." - Wayne Vyrona, Head of House Vyrona, Oathsworn of Peter Alessandria, High Lord of the Salvian Regency. Yawning, he presses his signet into the wax, and sends the bird off, before turning over, and tying to fall back asleep. Moving into a new headquarters never gets any easier. @Based1Salmon
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"So begins a new era." "The rising winds blow free." "The Golden Eagle flies again." "The House of Vyrona, Speaks." Wayne Vyrona stands before Sandra Imri. His blade is bared and his stance wide. One hand holds forth his sword, the other clenched tightly. As he speaks, his voice echoes off the abandoned stone walls, and the silence broken only by his voice. "I, Wayne Vyrona, Head of House Vyrona, Captain of the 1st Brigade, Oathsworn of the Lord Captain Commander Alessandria, High Lord of the Salvian Regency, would ask you, Sandra Imri, to join under my house. Not unto my line, but in service to it. To bring peace to all lands, and to stand firm in the light, under the light, in order that light may be preserved." "Sandra Imri. Do you hereby swear your body and blade to the cause, your blood and tears to the line, and yourself to me and mine?" "I swear." "Do you swear your honor to mine, to uphold as your own, until your final breath or until I see fit to release you from your oath?" "I do." "Do you swear to hold the House name as your own, forsaking that which you were born unto, to stand under mine instead?" "I do." "Will you accept this honor that is solely mine to give?" "I will." Wayne raises his sword, laying the edge on her shoulder, and holding out his clenched fist, he opens it, revealing a gold signet ring that gives off the vague shape of a bird, with a large intricate V. "Then kneel before me, Sandra Imri, and accept it." Sandra kneels, and gently takes the ring off of Wayne's outstretched hand, before sliding it on her finger. "I accept." Wayne tosses his sword to the cobbled street, and raises her up, embracing her. "Let it be known that House Vyrona rejoices! May the light lay witness, and seal this vow, that it may never be broken. Stand, Sandra Vyrona, of House Vyrona." "Long live the light, Long live Vyrona." @luxyluxxx@Based1Salmon
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The Houses rise The Great Oak groans Yet under the Light The Order will Grow The bird lands in your aviary in a puff of feathers. Its small chest heaves, its flight leaving it spent. A letter is attached to its leg, the folded paper as white as snow. As you unfold it, laying the creases flat, you catch sight of the message. Written in bronze colored ink, the letters shine gold when the light catches them. “The Salvian Military Regency hears tale of your name.” “The mountain stands so strong it will break when pushed. Yet the oak bends, and survives. The Great Houses summon you. Will you answer the call?” “The House of Vyrona calls you to task. Will you stand for the light against the rot of Aevos?” - Wayne Vyrona. Captain of the 1st Salvian Brigade, Head of House Vyrona, Oathsworn of House Alessandria. @Lynx_
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If you’re still looking for some engaging RP, I know of a few people/groups that are really looking for some new members! My discord is FallenValor737, I’d love to talk more if you are still looking!
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Wayne watches as his bird flies off, carrying the note in its talons. He runs a hand through his hair, grinning with anticipation as he waits for the response. House Vyrona will grow.
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The hardest of hearts will see no evil. The softest of lambs, think ignorance bliss. Yet I promise you now that justice is coming. For soon you will taste of the final death's kiss. Wayne stands from his table, holding his newly minted signet ring. He smiles around the house, before pressing his new sigil into the wax. Henceforth and forevermore, the men of the Vyrona line stand with the Lord General Alessandria of the Salvian Military Regency. All who wish to partake in her protection may. Vyrona lands remain in the hand of the one that holds them. Notable examples include: Hyspia, Avenida Camila VIII: Former Seat of the Exiled Salvian Line Vyrona titles and honors are forfeit to Lord Alessandria of the Salvian Military Regency, to bestow as they see fit. The Vyrona house lays claim to their right and title of Captain of the 1st Brigade, and declares themselves a sovriegn house under the rule of Lord Alessandria. So it is declared. Let all who read of this lay witness. And so the seal is pressed, and delivered to all who would hear of it. The house of Vyrona has staked it's claim. @luxyluxxx@Based1Salmon@RedResult@LimeRhyme
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Roughly 1.5 years on LotC, AMA
StormKnight_737 replied to ____Spectral____'s topic in Ask Me Anything
Ooo, I've got one! So, I love good villainy rp. As an avid DM, I love coming up with compelling stories and well made bad guys. However, I know how hard it can be to make a bad guy that really feels like a bad guy. After all, anyone can be a sociopath or be relatable in some way, but the way to truly make a villain stand out is to mix and match. I personally like to look to Brandon Sanderson and Robert Jordan's writings when designing mine, but I'm curious: In all your time, what villain has stood out the most, how did they get to that point, and what made it compelling enough to remember? -
Wayne reads over the missive, nodding at his own signature at the bottom. It wasn't what he wanted, but someone had to do it. "May God grant us the salvation the Madam never could." OOC Note: Any and all anger directed outside of rp will be ignored. I'm not going to entertain ooc shit about an ic decision. OOC Note 2: If anyone is harrassed about it, moderation will be called to help
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The past sings old forbidden songs. Of hearth and home, and fires strong. And so it comes that the stars arise. The world afire, and skies alive. Among the wreckage, a man lies still, his tears near spent, but anger filled. And so he rises, once again. The past his guide, the pain his friend. Wayne awakes from sleep, tears already filling his eyes. He knows it's too late to change what happened, yet he desperately wishes he could. As the initial tears are beginning to fall, he regains control, and suddenly the emptiness is replaced with white hot anger. He stands, gathering a note and pen. As he begins to write, he makes up his mind. "I've tried to do this in a new way." He practically snarls, his lip curling as tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. "It's too late to change. I must become who I was again." "Long live the Sundrop. Long live the Syndicate."
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As the words are spoken, so must they be heard. The banner lies torn and tattered, and bodies broken, bruised. A Nation lies in ruins, another rises new. The Nation of Salvo stands among flames. The smoldering ruins of a razed palace look down upon the swarm of men and women who fight for it's survival. The banners of its strongest lie broken and torn, and the clammer of men and horses ceases to watch the fight that will decide it all. Metal crashes and steeds scream. The snap of bowstrings rings out, and a man falls dead. It is all the grand palace can do to hold her breath. The majesty of her people fading fast, as one by one, they fall to the attackers. The former Salvian Senator Mitch McCannon raises his standard high as those around him slump at his feet. A ragged cheer is raised, and the banner is planted. The palace weeps blackened tears, as the acrid smoke from it's burned body smolders yet again. As the smoke clears, Elynora af Brasca, the First Consul, stands bravely, facing the victorious grin of the usurper. He holds out a sheet, and Elynora takes it. The nation of Salvo weeps bitter tears as they are forced from their home. Their banners lying torn and trampled beneath the hooves of Mitch McCannon. In a quiet procession, the exiles make their way onwards. They must find allies, shelter, and most importantly, a silent place to weep. The True Nation of Salvo, exiled to wander, until God gives them rest.
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A bird flies into you from out of sight, perching on your shoulder. Giving a gently coo, it settles itself. Attached to its leg are two notes. One in black, the other in red. The first note is written in an unknown hand, in a black ink, and is signed simply, "Wayne, of Salvo". "Mitch has struck again. Estevot has been attacked. Salvo humbly begs for Balian support, lest the man responsible get away yet again. The call of justice rings clear. Deliverance comes." The second is red, and seems stained. @Andustar@TaraJess@cadazio
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"See it now, the winds arise and banners fall. Yet the Gleemen carry on. Baring the hopes of a world long since dead. How soon might the world end? We must prepare to save the stories, that they may live again. Who best to take up this burden, then The Court of Glee?" The Court of Glee Are you a bard, entertainer, or storyteller seeking to master the art of the Gleeman? The Court of Glee is a fellowship of performers dedicated to spreading joy and wisdom through stories and songs of ages long past. We are looking for like-minded individuals to join our ranks, take up the cloak of glee, and travel from village to village, captivating audiences with their talents. About Us The Court of Glee is not a court of nobles but a community of passionate performers. Our members train each other in the way of the Gleeman—a title bestowed upon those who have honed their skills to perfection. Gleemen and Gleewomen are free spirits, unchained by society, living life on their own terms. Our structure: Entertainer: Newcomers start as Entertainers and progress through the ranks. Bard: As they advance, they become Bards. Gleeman/Gleewoman: Ultimately, they achieve the esteemed titles of Gleeman (for men) or Euphorienne (for women). Ranks and Subranks: 1a: Entertainer 1b: Apprentice 1c: Senior Apprentice 2a: Bard 2b: Court Bard 2c: Master Bard 3: Gleeman / Euphorienne 🔹 Training and Advancement 🔹 To join the Court of Glee, travel to the city of Salvo, and seek out one of our Gleemen to begin your training. Once taken on, you must prove yourself through dedication and skill. All Gleemen and Gleewomen are of equal rank and make their own decisions, leading their own lives, coming together to perform life changing miracles! Though labeled a court, we are free spirits devoted to making the world a merrier place by spreading tales of life and love. The Court works together, aiming to teach others our ways and to provide a haven for those who love to laugh. 🗣 Join Us! 🗣 If you have a passion for storytelling, entertainment, and spreading joy, the Court of Glee awaits you. Find wisdom, camaraderie, and a home among kindred spirits. The discord will be posted once complete.
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Upon noticing the poster, he pulls out a small notebook, jotting down the name and a rough description. Perhaps this could be his new quest...
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https://docs.google.com/document/d/19btjKe1SLXak1HvIB-5avg8_Q5WIqdMjlYDHMwYBAGI/edit?usp=sharing
This is Varin's full backstory. Nale was renamed to Varin, Rebecca was renamed to Angela.
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You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” ((How do you respond?)) He sits slowly. His body is fatigued from his journey and it shows. He slowly runs his shaking hands through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. He sighs as he finally rests, taking comfort even in the rough wood of the chair. The cushion is not thick enough to distract him from the splinters he could already feel. After he finished collecting himself, he cleared his throat and spoke with his eyes to the floor. "Kind woman, may I have a glass of water? I have come a long way and was not..." He paused and one could see the fire building behind his eyes, he finished speaking with a low growl and a snarl, "prepared." As the woman handed him the wooden cup, he threw his head back and downed the murky water. He barely noticed the slime and gruel as the life giving water finally restored his voice. He carefully handed the hag the water back, though his instincts were to slam it down to the meager tabletop in front of him. As she took it he began to take notice of his surroundings. The shack was not decorated, but it was not empty. Each corner held a different statue. They were each creatures, but were so eroded it was impossible to tell what they were depicting beyond that simple fact. They seemed humanoid enough, but not directly one thing or another. The air held dozens of candles, each suspended in the act of burning. The ceiling of the shack was almost nonexistent, instead giving way to a plethora of stars. Constellations seemed to form themselves, with the air drawing perfect lines connecting the dots for you. The whole area smelled like pine sap and freshly settled snow, it gave the house a feeling of comfort unlike anything Varin had experienced since leaving home just 2 decades ago. As he stared around in wonder it occurred to him that if the woman knew he was coming, then she must be working for his dog of a Konungr. He almost spit at the thought. His calm and relaxed mind becoming almost feral and bitter. Suddenly the smell of snow and pine turned to that of ash and steel. It was the exact smell of the battle where he had lost her. Where his Konungr had betrayed him. Suddenly he felt a small and bony hand on his arm, and he looked up to see the old woman smiling sadly. He breathed in deeply and focused on staying calm. As he did, he again felt the air change. Again back to the smell of home. He stared at her in wonder but said nothing. After a long moment he sighed deeply and started his story. "I was taken from home at a tender age, no more then 6 years old. I lived in the mountains of the north with my village. I was a beautiful village. My father was the chief, my brother the heir. My mother and I worked as the hunters of the clan, she brought home food and I always tried to help her prepare it. Our home was peaceful, though it was not perfect. Nearby clans would wage war on each other, ours was no exception. However even though there was killing, there was respect and honor. Then there was him. Gunbrage was ruthless. He would attack at night, in the dead of peace. He would take a clan by surprise and leave no survivors. Mine was no exception. My father's honor was betrayed, my mother was used as a bargaining chip, both of them murdered, my brother and I are the only ones who escaped. My father told us to run. But I saw it all happen. My brother saved me. Basi is the only reason I lived through that night. We were on the run for multiple years, but one day he just disappeared. I was taken by slavers the very next day. My only brother must have sold me to them to protect his own hide. That or he gave me up willingly. The slavers kept me until they found a wealthy noble family to sell me to. This family took me in and trained me as a warrior. They had never seen a norse before, so I was an anomaly to them. I could fight better then their knights at a tender age, and at no more then 14 I could best even the princes' bodyguards in combat. After they realized this they made me a member of their personal guard. I grew up with those two devils. We were inseparable. When their father died in combat, my dear friend Mattháios was made the king, and I was made the Jarl. Over the course of the next decade, I met my love Angela. I was beloved by the people. My sense of honor and duty, my strength in battle, it won the respect of every member of the nation. Soldiers followed me at a word, civilians would cheer my name. I was held in such high esteem that I was only below the king by choice. After many years, we were attacked by the same slavers who had taken me so many years ago. They had turned a trade into an empire, and that empire wanted to destroy us. We beat back the assault, and the slavers took many losses, but they also took many of our people. Among them was my Angela. After a long war we finally made our way to the capital city of the Slavers. During the ensuing battle we beat them soundly. But right at the end, I was attacked by the King of the slavers. We fought back and forth for many a time. At the heat of our altercation, I heard her call out my name, but I could not see her. As soon as I turned to look, the enemy overpowered me. My King and brothers did nothing but watch as he came so close to killing me that I could taste death. Though I overpowered the enemy, I did not win. She disappeared again. In my following bout of grief, the King imprisoned me and shipped me off to this country. When we landed, the captain of the ship brought me a letter he had been told not to open. It told me that the King had taken my Angela and imprisoned her while he waited for me to find my way back to the kingdom. He viewed it as a test of my loyalty. I was enraged by this, and told the captain that when we returned, I would find some way to pay the king back. The captain, though distraught at this, told me that he could not return me to the mainland. That he was under direct orders from the king. He agreed to wait in port with me until we found another way back. Just days later another ship arrived from my home carrying another message and a package. The message was from a name I did not know. The letter informed me that the slavers had returned to the battle in the middle of the night, with me missing, they overpowered all of the kingdoms defenses. The king and his brother were forced into hiding. The new king told me he knew Angela was captured, and that she meant a lot to me. So he sent me a pretty present. In the box was two things. A human heart and my own shattered axe. Written in blood on the axe were 3 words. 'Don't come back'. So I never did. Now I am simply looking for a lord to hire me or a friend to work with." As Varin finished his story, he wiped his eyes, cleared his throat, and stood. "I must go, I am a long way from what I seek. Good day ma'am." As he left, he noticed that one of the statues was glowing and could finally be made out. It was a human warrior. The inscription at its base read: "Chosen for strength, accepted for valor" NORSE WORDS: Konungr: King Jarl: General *or* Chief
