Lenny

Edict of The White Tower Issued the 10th, in the Year 239 of the Second Age FOREWORD By decree of His Royal Highness Argelion Zôrzagar Anorion Harren Arthalion, let it be known throughout the realm, and to all Malchediael’s blessed that the order and its future must be preserved in accordance with traditions, statues and expectations and as such, a new Chaptermaster has been appointed. This missive intends to affirm that stance, under the seal and sign by royal hand. I. Lord Viago Valathor Vitalius Adalwulf Rhomenor of House Vourkehardt shall take up the mantle of Chaptermaster and will act as the head of the order, taking on the outlined responsibilities. II. The Chaptermaster is expected to uphold the tenets of our patron, Malchediael, whilst supporting the newly revealed nature of Jophiael. However, their domains and capabilities are clearly set, and the long reverence put upon Malchediael will naturally elevate him. III. The Order of Templars shall retain its name as “The Order of the White Tower”, and they shall carry the same banner of Númendil as any other, with the four pointed radiant star on display with customization at their leisure. IV. The Order shall pave a way to establish the tether to our patron and set the aspirants on a path to receive it. It shall be by the hand of the Chaptermaster to allow and grant this blessing and ensure it is not abused or unused. If sloth or abuse has come upon a blessed one, it shall be the duty of the Chaptermaster to personally sever the tether or assign one of their Justicars. V. The Order shall cooperate and actively seek out trophies to display and put to use in the creation of relics and ways to honor the nature of the Knights. Additionally, a missive shall be created and actively updated to keep track of all trophies. VI. The Chaptermaster shall serve as a figurehead of the Templars of Númendil, and actively keep the people involved with achieved feats, putting the cleansing of our patron’s mind to pen, and the stories that come from battles to recite through the flames for the future generations. VII. The Chaptermaster shall answer to the Crown as its own branch of the Harren Court, coupled with a Judicator position to be fulfilled which shall ensure law, order, and justice is upheld at all times by the blessed whilst carrying the mantle of developing rituals and traditions. IX. The Chaptermaster shall ensure the creation of blessed fires, places of reverence, and otherwise, do not fall to cowardice by ensuring they are accessible by the common man. X. All existing Templars of the Realm shall present themselves before the Chaptermaster, that their names be recorded and their nature made known and be put to pen for remembrance for the future generations. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this agreement as of the day and year first above written. Signed, HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Argelion Zôrzagar Anorion of the House Arthalionath, Crown Prince of the Númenaranyë, Vicar of the Apostolic King, Seneschal of Idunia, Templar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm, Slayer of the Gilded Queen His Lordship, Viago Valathor Vitalius Adalwulf Rhomenor of the House Vourkehardt, Chaptermaster of the Order of the White Tower, Templar Justiciar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Lord of Caladras, Master of Silvers, Knight of Dawn, Slayer of the Gilded Queen

hardt vourker (drrandomk automaton) owned by super child warrior from the age of 2 trained by peasant dad and can now throw the two handed javelin at the same power as a grown adult because he is just so cool and awesome so it just makes sense rly maybe u just don't get it idk

@milksoda Which anime cleric girl do you want to be?

. The Blade and the BOND To be brought into the world with the privileges as a royal is a destiny few can match, and for Argelion, it was no different. Pride, revelries, access and people to call by his hand, it all stoked a flame within him from birth. And in little time, his silver gaze turned to face the golden scales of a Wyvern. However, his folly would direct this path elsewhere... The Day of Reckoning His foolishness had brought upon him a grim penance, certainly deserving, but still it was rough. His head had been shaven, his clothes replaced with the tattered remains of what once was, and his crown stripped. He was left as nothing but a Scion, one of Harren’s ambitious lineage. His father, Anorhil, levied this onto him without mistake. To sit before all in the square and have your head shaved is a humiliating process. To have all the eyes of your citizens, friends, and family laugh and point. It is a wound which one’s pride does not easily forget. Yet, it was part of the penance - the recognition of mistakes that had fractured his standing, his name, and family’s honor. His sister, Ardirnien, was one of the main teases of him there. To him, it was sisterly love, his younger self would laugh at him too, and he understood this but still it was difficult to process. “You did this for good intentions, seeking to see them rebuked and redeemed to serve God as they intended, but it was scandalous and you were quick to bring them in because your silver eye caught the glimmer of silver!” “Greed and pride of the ambitious Dragon Prince; No more! Shame and dishonor, and you shall take this shame unto your person!” His father, The High King of Idunia, Anorhil, lowered his hand to the grip of that turquoise blade. With a sing of metal, it was raised out of its scabbard and felt the breeze of the wind upon its surface, too, did Malchediael’s blessing take form and the blade was wrapped in divine flames of their family patron. Then, the slash came. In a quick swing of that sharpened edge, Argelion’s hair fell to his feet, a crude cut levied by the finest of blades. “Go forth my son, and redeem yourself and all the world; for love of GOD and forever be an enemy of his enemies. So too shall you start by aiding in the slaying of that wyvern, and the rebuke of the kobolds.” Argelion rose from that chair, surrounded by what he once was, and turned on his heel. With final words exchanged, he sought Minas Aranath for a final night of proper rest and to reflect upon his grave mistake and its rough reckoning. The New Beginning His travels were long and arduous, but when the walls come tumbling down and when you lose everything you have, you still have family. Argelion had the opportunity to meet one of his cousins for the first time, one from his beloved aunt Eriantiel, Elros Estelethion Arthalion, just a few days prior when his flame still burned bright with pride. He seemed different, but the silver gaze of the Arthalion line was unmistakable. Unceremonious in many ways, yet something clicked in place in their initial meet. With the shadow disguised as a humble merchant wandered the streets, the duality of blood vanquished the being in swift succession and through a manifestation of comradery, the two sought to release the creation from the world by hurling it into the blanched flames of Malchediael, together. It was a lasting memory, burned into his mind. Argelion reflected greatly upon it, as his youth lacked a brotherly figure, he was the eldest and surrounded by sisters in the entire family. It was a grim memory, a Belzagar, in some ways but appreciated-- perhaps more than he knew. A new beginning, and on the horizon, greatness was forming. The Tempering The penance tested in many venues, to learn forging- which he was terrible at, the luck Elros’ had with fishing during the Norlandic travels, and the kindness which the people shared throughout the land. Argelion felt a change within him, his Harrenite pride was tempered. He was a man tested by fire, blood and loyalty. But, the journey was not over, far from it. But, he had begun to walk with his head unbowed. The pieces were falling in line, disputes were settled, monsters of the Deceiver were vanquished. It was only one final piece remaining, the most important one, to slay the Gilded Queen. Argelion set out to commission one of the blacksmiths of the Radiant Guard, Roran Athaebor, for the creation of the ballistas and bolts. Him, and one by the name of Iorlas- his apprentice, accepted hastily and they got to work when the platform was made, a testament to their capability, most certainly. A professor from the Aevosian Aviation Association had approached, guiding in the direction of the wyvern. The path was laid, the creature had been sighted, and the time to act was quickly approaching. Argelion had spent some time in his youth sharing conversations with those who had engaged with the Gilded Queen when he was not able, those who had seen her first hand and actively engaged her. It was an anticipated day, years of truths from veterans, every mistake committed before, every lapse in patience or misjudged pride was catalogued in his mind. He absorbed it all, not only to avoid death, but to best her. He would not fail. The thought never crossed his mind. His sight was set, his goal was made clear, and there was only the execution of the plan which he had formed now. It took place over many nights, sketched in sand, pen, through battle and laughter, the draft was born. Six ballistas were prepared, covered and shrouded beneath the cloaks of Adunian make and nature’s natural. The bolts were treated with frost oil, intended to sink into its heated flesh and bring it down with haste. Daisy moved among the crew, his gaze trailed after for a moment, before returning to the sketch of his plan. The dawn crested over the ridges, and without pause, the colossal wings of gold made themselves known. She came not in a rush, but as a Queen. Her maw opened upon the sight of the bait, brimming with the embers and the fire unleashed upon them, strapped with mists of frost, it exploded into a cascade of fire and ice, beautiful, to some degree. The Vourkehardt crew and Euler crew had been instructed upon when to fire, and they had no better shot. Too, did the chain bolts fire, launched by Auris, Azruphel and Eruedraith with his own crew consisting of Daisy and Elros. Bolts made purchase, tangled around its wing, tearing membrane and splintering bone, and another wrapped around its leg, locking it into place whilst the Euler’s shot graced its chest, sending a spray of frosted splinters scattering over the field. The Gilded Queen fell. It was not a graceful fall, she collapsed with the fury of a drakeling, cratering the vale in her crash. For a heartbeat, it felt like the world froze, a brief stolen victory. However, the Queen was no mere beast, and with time, she rose. Her wings crashed down against the first of two ballistas, splintering it with ease; sending its parts scattering to the wind. His hand quickly found his beloved, Daisy, and pulled Elros with him, seeking to draw them behind his shield with steps backward. Divine brilliance began to manifest upon his shield front as his silver gaze locked upon the Queen, it felt like a trade, a conversation of war and the world stilled. Her eyes found Argelion, her maw opened, rows of gleaming teeth framed by the flames from within, and she lunged. Her jaws came down with the force of a falling tower, intent to swallow him whole- or his beloved family and love alike, but the shield held. Her teeth met the divine resistance of Malchediael, a hum that cracked the sky and bent the light. A roar of divine brilliance cascaded from the shield, a wave of light expelling outward from the impact as the two crashed against each other, forming a wall that halted the attack; the symbol of a Templar, Malchediael’s Radiant Star, flared to life upon the shield. Without pause, not even to consider, Argelion instantly sought to draw away the two, guiding them away and into the shadows with the cloaks to blend. The maw of the dragon soon spurred to life once more, setting upon his cousin’s station. . . The Gilded Queen reared and let loose a torrent of flame, the remaining chain-bolt ballista caught in the rushing flame as the queen sought to free herself from its chains, a shot was attempted before, though unfortunately failed to impart any fulfilling damage. It lay destroyed, and soon after, the Queen sought to push herself up to air once more, intending to rise to the spire peaks again. The final two bolts screamed through the sky, one from the Vourkehardt crew and the other from the Euler’s. They struck near simultaneously, burying into its flesh and causing it to descend into the sand once more. A shriek of pain echoed, and the storm of sand bellowed out from the mere impact of its enormous form’s impact; landing perilously close to the instruments that brought her down. She surged forward, despite being wounded. Llewyn had made his presence known, atop his steed, Argelion quickly sought to draw himself up on that steed as Daisy and Elros followed on foot. Llewyn rode forward, reins loose in hand and the other holding his gleaming chilled blade. Ahead, the Vourkes formed their line; the hopes of firing a remaining shot into it before it made its attack was clear. Hardt Vourker, the Automaton, had his protocols kicked in, gears grinding and shield raised; he was prepared to take the brunt of any attack. The claw of the Gilded Queen raised and she sought to send it crashing down towards the crew, The Gilded Queen thundered, its massive jaw parted as it sent the Vourke ballista asunder, with fire brimming from its throat. Euler’s last bolt pierced through the chaos, punching into its skin, causing it to briefly falter. Argelion rose in the saddle as Llewyn guided the horse in low, going beneath the shadow of the Queen. In his hands, the Carbarum blade Caledfwlch, the King’s sword- once wielded by his great-grandfather, Excalibur gleamed with its ancient make and its edge burned with the blanched flame of Malchediael. It did not harm the creature through fire, but its light was judgment incarnate. They passed under her, In one fluid motion, Argelion drove Caledfwlch into the soft underbelly, its mythically sharpened edge slipping through flesh that no ordinary steel could pierce, and at his side did Llewyn’s blade arc with him, widening the wound even further with the chilling edge. A geyser of scalding and boiling golden blood erupted from the opened wound. Steaming, it drenched over them and the pain of it caused them to tumble, knocking them off the horse and flinging them across the field. The wyvern let out a final roar, and collapsed, her breath shuddering as her fire faded. The Queen’s reign had ended. A moment granted by the distraction of the Vourkehardts and Garenbrig crew, allowed by Llewyn’s presence upon steed, and the Euler’s distracting shot, all parts fell into place; and the final blow was levied. Argelion sat in the sand, his chest lifted and heaved, his breath was stolen and his pale skin was riddled with red from the heat of blood. His eyes lingered upon the beast, he had succeeded, his penance had been served, and he had earned his right once more. Elros and Argelion sought to decapitate its head, intending to grab its head to place in the throne room upon a mantle, a memory to not be forgotten, and Llewyn took to oathing his soldiers. Argelion shared some final words with those who had joined him in the effort, the reflection through time, the many years he had yearned for this moment; a heavy toll lifted off his shoulders. The blade was raised out of the sand, and its edge ran alongside the scales of the beast, claiming a piece to forge his most cherished relic. The retinue returned home. Wounded was to be tended to and the glory was to be enjoyed in some final- deserving- rest. Argelion found himself standing at the edge of Numenost, his silver gaze trailing along the battlefield, where the beast’s body seemed smaller now. Still immense, but mortal. In its ruin, not only did victory linger, but a memory. He recalled every promise he had made, each vow spoken throughout his years, from tents to long stone halls. In the privacy of clasped hands, to the open square of his home. To protect, to lead, and to endure. The Crown of Numendil did not rest on his brow yet, but the people already had begun to look at him as if it did. The farmers, the healers, the soldiers, and the scribes. The Vourkes, the Eulers, The O’Rourkes, The Glennmaers, The Marsyrs and many more. Even those without titles, who still stood tall beside him. He would be a King for them. Not above, not apart, but with. His gaze shifted southward, trailing along the white mountain, Alkayaban. For the love of all his people, he would rule. Not as a man clinging to power, but to be the one lifting a torch against the darkness in guidance and defiance. For Elros, brother not by birth, but by fate, who fought as any knight and never asked to be seen. For Llewyn, blood-streaked but smiling. For his sisters, Iúliwen, Ardirnien, and Nóruiel and their unending efforts and support- even when he had difficulty returning it. For the Arthalionath line, and the old blood that stirred in his veins. For the friends who followed him through the fire, and stood with him in the toughest of times, and the families who kept Numendil alive through the years and long nights. Amidst the difficulty of duty, there was one flame which burned gently and truly. Daisy. She had stood by him when glory was nowhere in sight. When all he had were plans, doubts, and the weight of expectations not yet realized. She had bound wounds, fired bolts, bested him in combat, and been the pillar to lean upon, even against the breath of dragons and in the face of war. Not as a Prince nor King, but as the man she had always known; the once prideful Arthalion. His hand fell down to his satchel, where the locket with her portrait lingered. Opening it, his gaze landed upon her blue hues, a reminder, the promise to never leave, the woman he was to marry. He turned from the edge at last, shutting the locket with his thumb, one hand resting upon Caledflwch’s hilt. He returned to the streets of his city, where his people wandered and waited. Joining his cousin, Elros, he returned to join his people and to walk toward the future, Redeemed. thx to @Aeusfor the art : )

Edict of Radiant Authority Issued the 12th, in the Year 235 of the Second Age FOREWORD By decree of His Majesty Tar-Anorhil Carandir Antonius Caranethion Harren Arthalion, let it be known that the Radiant Guard, in service to the Crown and Kingdom, bears the sole charge in matters of justice and enforcement of Law. This missive intends to affirm that stance, under the seal and sign by royal hand. I. No man, woman, sect, nor order—be they of noble blood, foreign post, or divine vocation—may take enforcement of the law into their own hands. Vigilantism is deemed unlawful, and the claims of righteous intervention not permitted by the Radiant Guard are subject to scrutiny and censure. II. In rare and dire circumstances where no member of the Radiant Guard may be summoned and immediate action is required to preserve life or realm, any person may act only as required, and in the instance a guard arrives, all efforts must be yielded to proper authority without delay or dispute. III. Any foreign agent, emissary, or armed sect enacting justice within the Kingdom’s bounds without writ, warrant, or official cooperation of the Radiant Guard shall be deemed in violation of the royal sovereignty and treated as a trespass against sovereignty. IV. Breaches of this edict shall be met with swift and proportionate punishment. Minor offenses to these edicts shall include fines or beatings, while grave violations may warrant banishment, execution, or worse. The Radiant Guard and Crown shall carry out all such punishments. The Radiant Guard stands as the blade and shield of the realm, their watch remains dutifully fulfilled, and their burden is sanctioned by Crown and Law. Let no soul mistake zeal for license nor faith for authority. Too, shall this declaration be posted in the public square, temple gate, and halls of the Kingdom, that none can claim ignorance. There have been frequent breaches of these principles, often by those claiming to act by the authority of the Temple but who have been given no such charge by neither Curia nor High Priest. This has caused immense scandal, where the Temple and clergy have been the victim of blame of actions done by oft unordained hooligans acting of their own interpretation and accord devoid of guidance. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this agreement as of the day and year first above written. Signed, HIS PIOUS MAJESTY, Tar-Anorhil Carandir Antonius Caranethion Harren Arthalion, by the Grace of GOD, Apostolic King of Idunia, Seneschal of the Temple of the True Faith, Chief of the Númenedain and the Tribe of Harren, Master of the Sharadûn, Templar Justiciar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm, Protector of the Adunians and the True Faith. HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Argelion Zôrzagar Anorion of the House Arthalionath, Crown Prince of the Númenaranyë, Templar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm, Slayer of the Gilded Queen HER EXCELLENCY, Athaenis of the House Vourkehardt, Hand to the Crown of the Númenaranyë, Chancellor of the White Throne, Slayer of the Gilded Queen, Former Royal Speaker of Númendil, Steward of Númenost, Steward of Ildon

THE ACCORD OF PROSPERITY Issued the 14th, in the Year 234 of the Second Age FOREWORD As the winds of division soar over the lands of Elvendom, let this accord stand as its renewal. From the silvered spires of Haelun’or or to the proud banners of Caurost, the people have long carried a burden of ancient glories and forgotten grievances. Yet, the higher path has been chosen, making way for peace rather than conquest. Let this treaty act as more than just parchment and promise, the weaving of two legacies into one future and the vow that no longer shall they turn their blades inward. May this bond guide the people into an age of shared purpose, defense and prosperity. “The hand of GOD is the greatest weapon to bear, and His word is the paramount strategy.” Revelations of the Scroll of Spirit, Epistle to the Jorenites, verse 12 The contents of this passage shall serve as a written testament to the accord made between the Principality of Cauróst and the Silver State of Haelun’or, henceforth referred to as the signatories, declaring their adherence and agreement to the terms under oath of blood, honor, and GOD. I. The Silver State of Haelun’or will relinquish its sovereign lands and come beneath the banner of Númendil and shall be henceforth known as ‘The Protectorate of Haelun’or’. II. The Protectorate shall issue a formal apology for the transgressions of their Sohaer Laurir Valindra Liavyre-Nullivari in pursuit of mending the rift and restoring trust. III. The Protectorate shall see to the resignation of Laurir Valindra Liavyre-Nullivari as Sohaer, and take a step toward renewed leadership more conducive to unity. IV. The Protectorate shall recognize the High Prince of Cauróst as Protector of the Elves. This agreement shall remain indefinite, but may be rendered null upon mutual consent of Númendil and The Protectorate. Should Haelun’or stabilize and demonstrate trustworthiness, independence may be granted to them in the future. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this agreement as of the day and year first above written. Signed, Galahad Ílumrin High Prince of Cauróst, Prince of Malinor & Eldest Son of Húrin Ibarellan, Protector of the Elves Malaurir Avern’dionne Fi’talareh, Maheral, the Voice of Larihei, Guardian of Purity, Bastion of Tradition, Guide to the Mali’thill, and Matriach of the Fi’talareh Talonnii HIS PIOUS MAJESTY, Tar-Anorhil Carandir Antonius Caranethion Harren Arthalion, by the Grace of GOD, Apostolic King of Idunia, Seneschal of the Temple of the True Faith, Chief of the Númenedain and the Tribe of Harren, Master of the Sharadûn, Templar Justiciar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm, Protector of the Adunians and the True Faith. HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Argelion Zôrzagar Anorion of the House Arthalionath, Crown Prince of the Númenaranyë, Templar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Hadrian Tiberias of House van Aert, Crown Prince of Burgundy, Duke of Grense Jarl of Vjardengrad & the Lowmarch, Blood of the Herald & Lord of the Ashwood Throne, Protector of the Highlanders, High Chieftain of the House of Ruric & King of Norland, Haakon av Edvardsson Ruric

The Kingdom of Númendil's Radiant Guard set out into the blazing dunes in pursuit of the Gilded Queen, a shimmering elder wyvern wreathed in gold that had previously quarreled with their lands. The retinue consisted of Prince Elros, Princess Ardirnien, Lady Daisy-Auranna, Captain Frederick Eueler, Emmerick Vourkehardt, and Summanus Livius - all led by the Crown Prince, Argelion Zôrzagar, in pursuit of the Gilded Queen - a shimmering elder wyvern wreathed in gold, too, sharing a quarrel with the Kingdom from past encounters. This expedition sought to trace her path, and to find a definite place where she might frequent, to pin down a location for a future ambush. In little time, as they rode alongside the spire-wall, the screeching wails and the coming storm of sand beneath the might of its wings quickly revealed its nature, soaring past the party with great haste- piercing through the air with purpose. Her target was set, and the mountain stood before her. The retinue quickly found themselves beneath its shadow, and surged forward after calming their mounts. The stretching shadow granted a place of cover, and in little time, the Queen made her descent upon that mountain-peak. Her form crashed down against it, with her wings folding outward. Upon the order, the party dismounted and their feet quickly sank into the sand as they prepared their equipment, quickly seeking to cover themselves with cloaks of Adunian make. The winds carried their presence, yet to the beast, they seemed to remain hidden. The Queen’s beak dripped with red ichor, likely, from a previous encounter with the guard, she began to lash out in fury, thrashing her head against the earth and her pure golden scales casting harsh light around coupled with flames escaping its maw. The party continued to stalk, and though the beast was wounded, it was still of incredible resilience. It remained perched upon that peak, the ground felt like it trembled briefly beneath its strength, but with a sudden swift motion, her wings unfurled and she shot up into the air. Leaving the spire behind, her form quickly faded into the skies, but in her wake, it was clear the spire seemed to act as some sort of sanctuary- a favored position in her hunts. The party exchanged words, plans were forged and the beginning of the end had now begun. Preparations are to be made, and the final battle shall be upon us soon, to finally put the Queen to rest.

Within the caverns beneath the mountains, a faint echo of hammer striking steel sang throughout the cavern walls and the mountain alike. Rhythmic clangs woven like a song, and without a doubt, by a dwarven hand. Near, where the great gate sat sealed, a faint light flickered to life. Thin threads of glyphs etched deep into its frame took on a glow, awakening. The strikes continued, the mountain listened, and the gate remembered.

favorite league of legends champion

heck yes

"A sacrifice born from the Crown's folly, I pray it is what she wanted, and that they shall never forget it." Argelion spoke to himself near the bonfire in the Bastion Temple of Saint King Caius after his silver hues trailed over the missive.

amazing greehn thank you for your service

The sacred halls of the Bastion Temple felt cold and hollow as Argelion entered. The stained glass cast fractured light, but it all felt muted. It was there it all became known — His beloved sister had died. The world had frozen around him, and his silver eyes remained fixed on the very same bonfire where the brother he had never met was once put to rest. “Surely, it is a mistake. Some misunderstanding?” The thought repeated, a whisper from the deepest corners of his mind. For the first time in his life, his pride was shattered and despair consumed him. In little time, the memories came flowing. Taken back to the early days of his life, his return to Numenost from the pilgrimage with their father, the years he spent away unknowingly leaving his brother and sister behind. Nothing could make him forget how his sister greeted him, how she had introduced him to her friends so willingly and amongst them, even the love of his life. In the thick of battle, he had seen her raise her weapon and lay claim to glory, laughter shared within the halls, the stories she had told so fondly, the places she had taken him to tell of his brother’s tale. Every moment, every triumph, every sorrow, surged through him- an avalanche of grief. The silence after the revelation was suffocating, everything felt distant. He did not speak, beyond his queries to the one he considered his greatest friend; Viago, and he did not move. The weight was unbearable, a dagger was lodged into his heart, but what else was there to do? He hoped, in some delusion, that she was to rise once more out of those flames, if he stared long enough she would. Waiting, he stood there, until eventually it was realized. The voice of his aunt pierced through. The promise he had made, the duty he had now neglected unintentionally, his sister was imprisoned, left to suffer, and it had been his responsibility to free her- to ensure her light was never snuffed out. And he had failed. As eldest brother, he had failed them both in their youngest years. And now, when his beloved sister needed him the most, he had failed her again. She had been his guiding light, though she had never known it. In his years of folly, confusion and pride, it was she who put him on the right path through it all, it was she who had taught him the importance of his position and his duty. And now she was gone. Slow steps were taken out the temple, thoughts surged through his mind- not by what had been, but what would never be. The words he had never gotten the chance to share, the gifts he still held, the memories he had wished to create and the places he wished to take her. All of it lost, Far too late.

The (Br)Aevosi Treaty of Friendship Issued 223 S.A Numendil and Koyo-Kuni, though distant in land and culture, have forged a bond through shared ideals and unwavering resolve. The warriors of Koyo-Kuni have stood alongside the Radiant Guard of Numendil, united by duty, and a commitment to justice against the Deceiver’s forces. Though our banners differ, our purpose remains the same—to stand against the tides of darkness with our friendship tempered in fire and battle, but never broken. The contents of this passage shall serve as a written testament to the alliance of the signatories with all parties participating declaring their adherence to its terms under oath of blood, honor and GOD. So Godfrey called upon the goodly families of that land, and he settled them in fertile valleys and in open plains, and gave them the bounty of the Lord. And they took up arms and armor, and went into the petty kingdoms and defended the virtuous. Revelations of the Exalted Godfrey, the Book of Godfrey, Verses 31-32. I. The signatories mutually acknowledge the borders of their lands and the sovereign rights exercised within them, pledging to defend one another if any signatory’s territorial or infrastructural integrity is threatened. II. The signatories shall maintain peaceful relations between sovereignties, refraining from acts of hostility or aggression against their states, vassals, or noble houses. No signatory shall raise arms or engage in conspiracies against the others, and breaches of this term shall be resolved through diplomatic means. III. Signatories agree to the apprehension and extradition of criminals within the territorial expanse of the ATF. In the event a crime is committed by a citizen, the accused shall be entitled to the provision of legal defense hailing from their homeland and fair trial. In the event that multiple signatories claim jurisdiction over an individual, priority shall be determined as follows: Location of the Crime - The Jurisdiction is first granted to the signatory in whose territory the crime was committed. Nationality of the Individual - If the crime spans multiple territories, jurisdiction is deferred to the origins of the criminal. Mutual Agreement - Should any dispute arise, the involved signatories may negotiate and come to an agreement on their own accord to settle it. IV. Signatories shall be granted the right to engage in bounties issued within the territorial domains of fellow members. A bounty is defined as an officially sanctioned reward for the capture, defeat, or elimination of an individual or group. Bounties shall serve as a deterrent against acts of aggression or subversion directed toward any signatory. V. Numendil and Koyo-Kuni shall mutually recognize and respect each other's monopoly over their respective cultural groups and upstarts. Neither signatory shall encroach upon the other’s cultural sphere or seek to attract vassals aligned with the other’s identity. VI. Koyo-Kuni is recognized as the Protector and Defender of the Farfolk, while Numendil holds the same role for the Harrenites. Both signatories pledge to uphold and support each other's protective duties towards their respective cultural groups. To be honored hereafter, with its terms expiring and subject to renewal upon the conclusion of the reigns of the signatory rulers. SHUGO OJŌ-SAMA Ugokoyama Atsuko the Iron Lady, Legendary Sanbushi, Yōbushi of Machiman, Mother of the Land of the Scattered Sun and DEFENDER OF THE FARFOLK YASU-TORI Ugokoyama Danzen the Oni Slayer, Yōshō of the Yōbushidan, Legendary Sanbushi, Tōshū of the Ugokoyama Clan and Sōhei of Nichi-Jin Temple ADMIRAL Ugokoyama Takemura the Sabertooth Cat, Yōbushi of Machiman, Sous Chef of the Grub Bucket and First Templar of Krug ONNA-MUSHA Kato Ichika the Barrel Princess and Sōhei of Nichi-Jin Temple His Pious Majesty, Anorhil Carandir Antonius Caranethion Harren Arthalion, by the Grace of GOD, King and Protector of the Adunians, Seneschal of the True Faith, Chief of the Númenedain and the Tribe of Harren, Master of the Sharadûn, Templar Justiciar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Argelion Anorion of the House Arthalionath, Crown Prince of the Númenaranyë HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Nóruiel Anoriel Nydia of the House Arthalionath, Princess Royal of Númenost Athaenis Vourkehardt of the House Vourkehardt, Royal Ambassador of Númendil

love you 3000 @sam33497@ibleesian @Trey@milksoda@Irene@Kylo@rigorous @Greehn @I hate you 3000@carebear@milkyi

Argelion Anorion Arthalion, found himself within the clinic soon after the Witch had run off at the conclusion of her offered duel, blood and burns lingering on his skin. Words repeated in his mind, although wounded, a clear sense of accomplishment lingered in the overly-prideful Princeling. The Witch had surrendered, an arm practically severed and blood leaking from her, at the cost of burns and wounds upon his own fleshly-being, he went into this expectantly and came out, in his own opinion, victorious. Upon the note, the Crown Prince’s usual smile returned, and pen was put to paper; The words you spoke to me, laden with sorrow and disappointment, prove hollow in your own hypocrisy. You decry the pain inflicted upon you, yet you now inflict the same upon others. Look to your own faults and summon the courage to face me once more to end this, or simply, end yourself. The choice is yours, but do not think I will wait long. SIGNED, HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Argelion Anorion of the House Arthalionath, Crown Prince of the Númenaranyë