Destructokeith

Shortly after the mission is announced three figures enter the throne room of petra, heavy foot steps echo as the group march towards the throne and the queen that sat atop it. At the head of the group stands Sir Artel, clad in his armour with his helm held under his arm, to his left is his loyal living doll Detlef, its bones tapping against the stones as it walks and to the knights right follows Sir Atticus. As the group reaches the throne Atticus bows deeply to the queen. "It vill be mein honor to bring du that traitors head kinder" Artel says as he brings his steel hand to his chest "und ve shall make sure du get der keep du are owed". with that the three turn, marching back off to war

Sir Artel wanders through the remains of breakwater gathering the shredded masks of his foe, his blade hung from his hip still warm from the flames that had enwreathed it, his ears still ringing from firing the cannons until they melted to slag. "today vas ein gutte day kinder" he says to the bluecloak that follows him, who they are hidden by the helm they wear "this war vill be der last war of them und du und ich vill see it through" he turns and offers a smile to his shadow, his red hair stuck to his face from the blood and sweat of battle.

Artel drums his steel fingers on his desk, a quick glance out his window at the burnt church and the square he had met Ser Philip in the saints day before, he thinks of the words that had been said to him again "if GOTT hast truly blessed mich to preserve his kingdom here, who am ich to argue?" He turns back to his desk "ich have much to do"

Artel looks around, a few people glancing at him, then at the burnt church "ich might be der Flamebringer, but that ist just rude" he looks at the group around him "besides, ich vouldnt just burn ein church, ich plan to burn everything those bandits have" and with that he begins to clear away the debris

"the first of our many victories I hope" Artel smiles as he pulls on his armour, strapping his blades to his belt and sliding the rings onto his hand "so much blood to repay, so little to be spilt"

The drumming of Artels steel fingers now match with the marches of the armies' "NEIN MERCY! FOR GHORM! FOR ISA! FOR THEONUS! UNWAVERING UNDER THE SUN!" he roars out as he begins to rally the forces, his left hand erupting into flames as he draws his blade with it, hoisting it into the air

Artel frames the latest Petran Peice "ein full knight of der Petrine Laurel" he smiles as he lifts the new armour onto his anvil "nein longer just ein Hedge Knight" he sets to work making his armour fit him better as he thinks about his new duties

Artel walks through the streets of Aaun, his body hurt and his blade dulled, he makes sure to collect the bodies of as many fallen Stassion men as he could "der debt of Ghorm ist nicht yet payed" he says as he disfigures the fallen "nicht even close" the words echo through the streets as he marches on.

Artel stands on the walls, looking out over the lands to the north, slowly drumming his daemonsteel fingers on the wall, a fire of pure rage burning behind the knights eyes as he looks towards the castle that his cousin had been killed in and his lips curl into a wicked smile as the drumming of his fingers grows louder and louder, matching the rhythm of charging horses, the smell of the burning Stassion declaration that burns next to him reminding him of the sent he hope to soon smell as he burns those who have killed his blood

Artel laughs and laughs as he reads the letter "der house of super best friends grows und grows" he smiles for his friends as he frames the missive, hanging it on his wall with all the rest of his favorite missive's

Artel stands from behind his desk, the last of the papers having crossed it for the day. He looks out over Vallagne, noding to himself before he collects his bag and sets off for home "ein new dawn" he mutters to himself as he takes the lift down

"too bad der kinder hates mich" Artel mutters to himself from atop the castle walls "ich really should get some better clothes" he chuckles as he pulls at his trusted blue jacket, the fabric covered in small burns and bloodstains "ich need them" he shakes his head

Artel sits in his office drumming his steel fingers on the desk "damn, ich wanted to drive him out" he mutters as he reads over a letter, a weight lifted from his shoulders, he nods "ich should speak to Atticus once ich finish all this paperwork" he groans as he looks over the never ending work piled infront of him @Hom

Artel finds the newest copy of The Petran Piece still within the news room right across from his office "ah, another amazing work from our mighty mayor" he smiles, reading it over as he walks back across the hall to his office

THE 1951 BAN OF CLAY CONSTRUCTION Issued and averred by Her Majesty in the year of our Lord 1951 I, Sir Artel von Theonus, Commissaire of The Petra. Hereby declare a BAN on all future clay construction within the Commonwealth. After many months of reconstruction within the realm, I hereby ban all construction with raw clay for the following reasons; I Safety and security. With the growing and constant threat posed by Darkspawn the security of the realm is my top priority, clay is weak and easy to break through by the weapons of man and the dead. Because of this I recommend all remaining clay constructions undergo the chance to stone. II The use of clay has caused major problems to the river ecosystems of our realm, the mass harvesting of the resource has led to the near extinction of many natural inhabitants of the mighty river we hold so dear. Due to this, I will also be placing a 10 YEAR BAN on the collection of any and all natural materials from the riverbeds within the realm punishable by a 500 MINA FINE. Please understand this is being done to protect both the citizens of the Commonwealth along with its natural beauty, with this being said I am giving a FIVE YEAR timeframe for any and all remaining constructions that primarily use clay to replace the material and dispose of it responsibly. Strong under the red sun Commissaire Sir Artel ‘The Flame Bringer’ von Theonus Deputy Commissaire Lord Atticus Reinhold

Artel smiles a wide smile for his friends "ich should make the ein gift, but what do get der men who have everything?" he taps his chin a few times "time, they need time" he chuckles to himself as he places the letter in the box of other letters patent that he cared about

Artel looks over the maps "ich saw it from der sky und can say, ja this is ein great map" He says to anyone in Vissingren that would listen "gott ich miss being able to fly" he mutters, mostly to himself

A huge beast of a man stands atop a mountain, he laughs his awful laugh and shouts to the world "WE ARE UNDYING! WE ARE DEATH! WE ARE THE DEAD MEN!" there is a long pause before the man screams again "I DO NOT FEAR THE END!"

Artel looks out over the realm, standing atop the city walls, what would this new reign bring? It did not matter to him. The new queen was family to him and he would stand by her side until he draws his last breath

[!] the emblem of Artel von Theonus The following is the written account of Sir Artel von Theonus and his time in the form of a raven Would you like to see a magic trick? Those who know me know I have a deep love for the arcane and that night in the forest I was asked such a question. I thought “what could i learn from saying no to the elf and his staff?” and so I agreed and for his magic trick this elf turned my human form into that of a raven. I was gifted with the power of flight and for once was able to see Aevos from the skies above, but what terrible truth I had yet to discover. For I was given a task, a simple task, to be a wingman, this act would lift the curse or I must wait two saints days and so I used this time to "play bird" . I flew across the lands, seeing all I could from heights once unreachable. But every second I did I grew closer to a great danger, little did I know what would soon befall me. A goal met Little did I know that a small but simple task, one that I would do regardless of my form, to guide a friend to Veletz, would be enough to break my curse. But it seemed that the curse itself did not know of such for I remained in the form I was placed within. A curse broken Only once my time in that form neared its end did the true horrors begin, there I perch within a friends house, speaking to them about my adventure when a great voice from above spoke and my head pounded "Accursed" it said, followed by the claws of a yet unseen beast attacking the wall next to me. Much to the horror of those nearby, my curse now seemed far more evil then anyone had yet thought possible. My friends spurred into action by the sudden shift in my shadow, it had taken the form of a owl that now stalked my every move my mind racing not with worry but instead once more my mind wished to learn more of this curse it was then I was told maybe simply telling a couple of a date idea may work to break the curse, this is when my curse was broken in the oddest of ways… The Clause Two things happened very quickly, first a dictionary was summoned from my shadow, this strange force would find the term “wingman” and find out my small trip to Veletz was indeed enough to break it, when I was told by this voice that “According to Clause Eight Section I of the Heavenly Realm Act: Designation of Curses” that an error had been made by a group known as the Hawayanism Pantheon and that I was owed an apology. And thus my curse was lifted and I was once more returned to human form, while it was an adventure that I will never forget and I am glad to be myself again, I shall miss the freedom I was given for that time.

Artel looks over the letter "it ist 1948" he mutters

A lone raven flys high above Marignan, his time in this form nearly done Artel is happy to see his home from such a height "our name will be remembered forever"

A lone raven circles high over the city of Vallagne, although his time in this form was limited Artel would use it for good, watching over the realm from the skys

Artel stands in the forge across the keep, he looks over at PENGI "she vould nicht hit ein cripple right?" He asks as he looks from his stump to the edict that he signed

The declaration drifts from the place and lands on Artels plans for an anti net fishing ship, he blinks as he reads it quickly "******* what happened?!" he shakes his head and shrugs, returning to his work, he must protect the trout.