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wildspaghett

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Everything posted by wildspaghett

  1. Full Name of Man - Robèrt Guillame Temesch Date of Birth of Man - SA 259 (2053) Name of Woman - Diana Isfiria Vespira d'Arkent Date of Birth of Woman - SA 258 (2054) Location of Ceremony - Riviense, Petra Date of Ceremony (Year) - 2082 Name of Clergyman who performed ceremony - Father Kiriel Blackfern
  2. Full Name of Man - Nikolas Barbanov Date of Birth of Man - 2060 Name of Woman - Maya Othaman Date of Birth of Woman - 2061 Location of Ceremony - N/A Date of Ceremony (Year) - 2080 Name of Clergyman who performed ceremony - Father Kiriel Blackfern
  3. Username: wildspaghett Character Name: Father Kiriel Blackfern Affiliation: Kingdom of Idunia Desired Rank: Any Which games will you be attending?: The Siege of Totenpflaz and The Trials of Honour
  4. MC Name: wildspaghett Discord: kyle_is_lame Image: Description of Image: two characters next to each other will be a painting displayed for wall art Dimensions: 2x2
  5. ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── A Thesis on: The Fracturing of Horen’s Sons Kiriel Blackfern GOD, in His wisdom, did not create one perfect people, but many—each flawed, each purposeful, and each bound together beneath His will. As Horen, Malin, Urguan, and Krug were brothers, so too are we all as their descendants. We must ask ourselves whether those among us have come to believe that humans stand above the other races. God has given mankind the duty to guide the other descendants to GOD’s path. I cannot help but wonder if this sacred duty has, at times, been forgotten. As High Pontiffs past and present have stated, it is our duty as the faithful to enlighten others with the word of GOD, not through war but through conversations and empathy. For it is GOD’s will that we shall all know peace once more, so to treat one as less than purely for his race is the sin of pride to believe you are superior to GOD’s design. My brothers, I ask that you treat one another in dignity and restraint, for I believe there will be no perfection if we do not allow others to learn of the true faith and GOD’s will—many, such as I, were not born into the religion but instead converted. I must ask myself if I were not treated with kindness, would I have ever heard GOD’s word? Would I have retreated to my own kind and fallen for heathenism? I ask you to consider this possibility when interacting with those of another race. As humans, you have been entrusted with a GOD-given role to guide those like me. As it is written in the Scroll of Virtue, reminding us that faith is meant to be shared “And as I have given to you this blessing of My Word, you shall also give unto your fellows.”- Virtue 2:8, And again, the Scroll of Virtue speaks to the abundance granted to the virtuous who act with generosity and compassion, “I am the Lord GOD without peer, and My abundance is the holy abundance, and My wealth is the virtuous wealth, and all the blessings of the Virtue shall fall before the righteous who share it.” - Virtue 2:11. I have heard too many stories of those who refuse to hear the word of GOD because their brothers and sisters were killed by those who saw themselves as virtuous. Such wounds do not fade—they fester, and in their pain, many turn from the faith, not because they deny GOD, but because they have only known Him through their suffering. The Scroll of Gospel tells us of the consequences of such division and harm, “You betray man with your wrath, and once again Horen’s sons are divided” - Gospel 4:53. How many souls have been lost not to ignorance, but to cruelty? How many turned from GOD, not because they rejected Him, but because His people first rejected them? I believe we are not meant to wage war among those who have not yet known the word of GOD, but instead those who actively go against it. “The hand of GOD is the greatest weapon to bear, and His word is the paramount strategy.” - Spirit 2:12, For GOD teaches that our greatest strength is not violence, but faith itself. For those who are not descendants, consider that it was not their will to be born as such and that instead they are victims of Iblees’ wickedness. I believe it is possible for such creatures to live virtuous lives; can alienation bring forth anything but resentment? At best, I believe we should aim to live in peace with them while on earth and be gracious and teach them the word of GOD. I have heard of others speaking of wanting to kill children simply for being of a non-descendant race. Ask yourselves, is this holy justice or an excuse to act in wrath? According to holy law, if these individuals possess a light of wisdom, then they are to be protected by the Church. GOD is merciful; consider that those who forsake sin and worship GOD may have their soul purified upon death. For in the end, it is not belief alone that bears weight, but the actions taken in His name. I ask you to reflect, then—what role you will choose: the sword that divides GOD’s children, or the voice that calls them home.
  6. ♱ 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖓 𝖎𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖜𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖍. 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖞 𝖏𝖚𝖉𝖌𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙; 𝖓𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖞 𝖓𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖊.

    𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖐𝖎𝖓 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖚𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖉𝖎𝖒 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙. 𝕬 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖌𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖊, 𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖞 𝖆 𝖇𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖒. 𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙, 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗, 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊, 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐. 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖕𝖎𝖊𝖈𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖑.

     𝕾𝖊𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖘𝖔𝖓, 𝖉𝖎𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖞-𝖑𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉, 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖛𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖊𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓. 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙, 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙, 𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉.

    𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖒 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖜 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖔𝖚𝖉, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖞, 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖑 𝖈𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓.

    𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖓, 𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖞𝖙𝖊, 𝖕𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖘 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖊, 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖕. 𝖄𝖊𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖙𝖚𝖒’𝖘 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘, 𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖐, 𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖊, 𝖘𝖚𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖓—𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘.  

    𝕿𝖍𝖚𝖘, 𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊’𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 𝖘𝖔𝖋𝖙-𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓, 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖒𝖔𝖐𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊’𝖘 𝖋𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐. ♱

    kiri2.png

    1. JediMaestro
    2. Frisket

      Frisket

      It’s so hard to read

  7. wildspaghett

    wildspaghett

    Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?) Kiriel walks over slowly, the sleeves of his shirt stained by mud as well as the knees of his trousers. He looks around cautiously through his blonde locks before sitting down. "Me?" he questions, confused about why someone would be expecting him. "Well... I've gotten a bit lost. See, I left home-- thinking independence would be a nice change, but it seems I'm not very good at it." he looks down and tries dusting some of the mud off of his previously nice clothes. He chokes up a bit thinking of his home, how he was tired of the life as a 'high elf', how hard it was to keep it a secret that he was not of pure blood. That infact his short stature and lightly pointed ears were caused by his tainted human genes, the illegitimate child between an elf and a human. His stomach growled, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. "Do you know where I could get a meal here?" he looked tired as he had been traveling for quite some time. He was looking for a new life, a life of freedom far from the restraints of life as a high elf. It wasn't as if his old life was difficult; his pale skin and light hair made little room for question, and his mother spoiled him with expensive clothes, delicious food, and a nice home. However, he always yearned for more; he found his life of luxury was just boring. The new freedom was exhilarating. Kiriel knew he had no way to pay for his meal, but he had learned he was willing to steal or run out on a tab if he had to. Infact he was starting to enjoy getting away with it.
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