Destructokeith

"his lordship" Artel shudders "und mein pedigree, this makes mich sound like some fancy fellow" the old man chuckles as he frames the invite, digging around for his best jacket "it will be ein fun affair nein doubt"

A pair of green eyes read the declaration. he turns then to look at the tall walls of the castle he calls home before turning to the training men at arms around him "ich want der flag of Petra hung from every tower" The Teenager declares, the warriors quickly dropping their weapons and carrying out his orders "der east in flames" mutters Artair "und now we hold our breath und see" he crumples the paper then and sets off to find his cousin.

"Shit goes hard" says Artel as he watches his favorite goblin nail his own tounge to a missive

Artel stands within the square, his hands still shaking from the battle he had fought, the blood of those he fell once more staining his blue cloak. a smile crawls across the old mans face as he watches the traitor finally be put to the sword, leading and joining into the cheers that follow as the scum who dared disrespect his kin meets his end. Elsewhere The young Master at arms removes a mina from his war map as his green eyes scan the missive, he had known this pretender but he was glad he was dead and even more glad that the rebels who would disrespect both crowns had been taught the first lesson's. That night Artair would be sure to find his friends to share the news.

Deep within the dark halls of a castle, an old knight once again straps on his armour "der death throws of der end" he mutters as he slides on his helm "they live within der Franklands ja? ich earned mein name there und now they will know why" Artel turns and storms forth to find his grandson.

The young master at arms takes the latest paper as it is handed to him "this ist getting out of hand, ignore all of this until der monarchs speak on this" he orders the bluecloak before slumping back in his seat, the begining of his new job already causing Artair to grow weary of any outside the walls

Imo its 50/50 I have had good run ins with you all in the past from non bandit talks before the veletz war to needing to leave bandit rp due to irl illness and being let log without a d20 But at the same time i have seen/heard of other members of your group doing nothing more then shit teir banditry, a recent example was a few of your guys rolling up and trying to rob a friend while they were in LC. I have no hate for a band of mercs who work for the highest bidder but i do have hate for what feels like a band of bandits who rob and kill people just to keep their rp hours high enough to fight in warclaims Thems my thoughts, sorry its formatted poorly im on my phone at work LOL Oh small edit here, might want to talk to some of your number about powergaming. Most people can take getting bandited, fewer can take getting bandited because of clear powergaming

A pair of green eyes scan the paper between sets of training "mein cousin should have yelled a that prince, he was to nice" he says thinking back to the ballroom plotting "und now more plots, when will it end" Artair sighs deeply before lifting the blade and starting to train once more

Brennus grumbles upon reading the words on the paper, the old Frank now living in the rebuilt village close to him old camp. Perhaps he will speak with someone to help him write that bill

Protection of Memories “Unwavering under the Sun.” ISSUED BY Sir Artel ‘The Flamebringer’ von Theonus DECLARATION After the recent discoveries by my kin at the memory tree and a discussion with Her Majesty Adalia I of the Petra. I, Artel von Theonus declare myself and my kin as protectors of the memory tree. With this declaration my kin shall; I. Aid the church in stewardship of the tree and its surrounding lands. II. Send monthly patrols to the region to check for damage to the tree and the surrounding lands. III. report any problems to the crown swiftly so they are not made to fester or grow out of control. While understanding the religious purpose and symbolism the tree holds, it is my wish to ensure that the natural and arcane order of the tree is kept in check so that any calamity may be avoided. By The Flame Sir Artel ‘The Flamebringer’ von Theonus HIS GRACE, Aurel von Theonus, Duke of Vohenheim,Margrave of Marignan, Count of Sigiswald, Viscount of Karlstadt, Baron of Raustyn, Lord of Vissingren Castle, Patriarch of Theonus

A young boy in the Heartlands stumbles across the notice, a spark of joy in his green eyes until he reads the requirements "Damn"

Skin Name: Raven Knight Discord: Destructokeith Bid: $15

The forge of Vissingren falls silent, its flames dying out for the first time since its construction. The forgemaster is not seen for months as a letter lay open on his anvil. So this is what it felt like? to loose a child? A girl you were trusted with to protect from the horrors of the world and a child you saved many times and who saw you as a father? Artel would find the site one day, see the jester mask. see what remained of his daughters and feel a hole in his heart that would never heal rip wider, The old man shattered. A new blade would be hung from his hip for the rest of his days, a final gift from the child who he loved so.

Artel stood within his study, stowing away arms and armour "und so Oren fell, hopefully for der last time" He looks to the black banner, the red sun and twin ravens, he nodded for Icathia slept still "we have larger problems then der last screams of ein dead nation from another world" he mutters to himself as he turns to leave

While the older knight had simply tagged along to escort the young queen to the hand, he had stayed after seeing Paul once more acting above his station although he did seem to vanish into thin air shortly after their arrival, sadly for Artel he only heard word of his nephews engagement upon returning home "oh ein shame ich went to der diet, ich would have loved to have seen it, alas if will have to make up for it at der wedding" he says as he begins to prepare for the event.

The old knight watches his friend set off again, in another life perhaps he too would have fought along side her and her order but in this life he would have to stand next to her in the battles to come, while inert he still carried the longsword he had been gifted as a sign of his support, Artel would fight if asked as always. once Farah had left his sight he turns back towards the sun "unwavering under the sun"

Artel lingers on the edge of the jungle, the old man watching the people of the city hurry into the walls to hide, a smile creeps across the old mans face "After how they treated Cat, ich wonder if der Orc's need those plans ich drew up all those years ago" he asks as he turns his eyes to the red moon in the sky, thinking. Elsewhere... The young Artair watches the red 'sun' in the sky, looking at the words of war upon the page he found, the ever silent gaze studying the page as he does everything. Perhaps, he thinks, this is what it is to mean for Icathia to return.

It takes some time for news to reach Artel, but when it does the old flame haired knight stops dead in his tracks, the ore he carried in his hands falls to the ground, breaking the stones they hit, next comes the man as he falls to his knees, and stares forward into nothing, the man had fought to protect her for so long and now he had failed, he hadn't even been with her at the end, tears trail down his face as he remains there for hours, the crushing weight of having outlived the little queen took a toll on the old man Elsewhere.... Artair hears the explosion and watches the fight from the nearby mountain, the boy kicking his feet as he doesnt understand the gravity of what has happened

Artel takes the declaration, slamming his rondel dagger into the center of it, some of the last words his father had ever given him racing through his mind. "I know he would have called you as much an Icathian under the Red Sun as he or I." Those words, that honor. He would open the door to his lab, the Red sun banners hanging around him as he places his worn shield on the table, the same red sun across it. Silently he would move around the room, collecting tools of war incase he needed them. "Unwavering. under. the sun" he says to himself, turning to the door and marching out, his weapons ready should an empire try to rise once more.

The old knight settles into his new study, thinking back to what he had seen, the army of magi coming out of the gates and later hearing the word of The Fatebinders death. The old knight hummed, he had few times spoken to the man even when he worked at the enclave but he had spent many years with some of his most relied on people "and now we see what is to come" Artel says, his voice echoing back to him as he speaks to the empty room.

Name: Brennus IGN: Detruc2keith Age: 80 Province: Aaun Address: Camp of the mighty The Hawk Campaigning for: Garmont Assembly Discord: Destructokeith

Artel polishes a circlet he has set on display in his lab "ah, ein perfect time to give Aurel this" the old man smiles as he places it into a hand carved box before closing it "now to find something nice to wear" he glances at the invite list, then to his every loyal Detlef "ich dont think du will be very welcome boy" he says as he tosses a damaged mina at the bone doll, the wolfs jaws snapping around its favorite toy

Far to the north in a small camp Otto II sees that his fearless leader has sent for aid, he turns to the rest of his company "help is on the way boys, soon enough we shall deal with this problem once and for all"

Artel climbs from his study after hearing the news, he walks out the front gate and looks across the river, humming some as he thinks of what is to come "ich trust Cat to nicht let this end poorly" he turns the golden ring on his hand once before nodding and chuckling some "ich should go bother Atticus, gotts know he will nicht be able to rest for ein few years now" @Hom

Artel was stood atop the new gatehouse of his home when word reached him, the aging man nods and thanks the messenger before turning his eyes towards Aaun, they linger there for a time as he thinks of his brother in arms, now at rest "ich would nicht stand here today if du had nicht come to our aid in der Frankish war so long ago" he says into the wind "enjoy ihr peace in der skies und say hallo to Isa for us", With a final dip of his head he turns to find his wife, knowing she will need him in these times.