Nico

((Honestly, I didn't have to actually change the Friday date, but since everyone complained so much I changed it. Now the problem is with school, meaning that this warclaim can not happen during any weekdays. This is a problem for me and a lot of my members as they are unable to make it during weekends making weekdays the only choice. Also, after asking majority of people involved it was agreed on my side that Tuesday 4pm is a good time.))

((Time postponed to Tuesday September 4th, 4pm EST upon request.))

((I talked to seventh, he said it was fine. Also this warclaim has been up for at least a week, this is no surprise.))

The time of the warclaim has changed! Everyone check the new time for the warclaim.

*Nicolas begins to laugh at the Holm leader as he grows anger. He sits up proper in his chair readying to speak his final words. Nicolas tries hard to cease his laughter so he may inform the council and its allies of his decision.* "Holm, you've embarrassed yourselves enough in this expedition for your nation. I suggest you be careful when you leave Malinor tonight... as I can not assure that one my men won't stab you like a little boy. On wards to the council of Malinor and the High Princess, I've made my words clear the second I stood in your land. I shall not bother to repeat these things any longer. As for my alliances and friends I've brought here who wish for a more diplomatic approach for this problem, I dread to tell you, I'm sorry. And for those who wish to march out along side me, shall we no longer speak with these useless Elves and their weak allies. Shall this problem over Armaluna be held on the battleground and not in this civil manner that I hoped to do. Unless of course Malinor surrenders Armaluna to the Silverblades and the Orcs, then only can I offer such peace for you. If you choose not to agree with my terms then your all bloody dead." *Nicolas and his allies walk out of Malinor and get on a different boat than Syrio's Beard to disguise they're exact location. They're boat departs first then followed by the rest of his boats. He turns to his allies and soldiers one last time to tell them.* "God Wills It."

((Please void Braxis's last RP post until further notice.))

(( Please void Braxis' post until further notice. ))

*Nicolas looks briefly to Kyral then to the High Princess.* "Who are we waiting for exactly princess?"

*Nicolas begins to chuckle softly then starts to laugh at the high princess with the offensive words. Nicolas nods a couple times while staring at the princess thinking carefully of his next words, deciding if it was worth coming to Malinor or not. He then looks back at the princess to give her his remark upon her words.* "You never cease to disappoint high princess, I thought differently of the elves, but sadly you've shown otherwise. My emperor does not turn to listen to your words, he is far too busy to deal with your bidding. However, you have offended me and my house, you've spoken wrongly about myself. I may be a noble not that simply does not give you the ability to call me unimportant. The title and power you say that I've been granted is simply the respect of my allies and the strength of my men." *Nicolas stops talking for a second to take a glance at Rex Gorgul.* "The great Rex Gorgul is my ally not yours, save your breath while your at it. You will not gain shite feeding him words of favor. He has sworn an alliance with house Silverblade, alas he takes actions along with my commands. House Silverblade is the strongest house in Oren along with the Orcish nation we stand stronger than any type of defenses you mention. If I were you, I'd choose your next couple words wisely, make sure you don't speak wrongly about me... princess."

*Nicolas looks up at the council of Malinor while he allows his fellow alliances to speak their mind. After careful consideration, he sits proper in his chair, clearing his throat as he speaks his mind freely.* "I have to say, I agree with my friend and comrade Gorgul. However you seem to make a mistake when you say that Oren will rule over armaluna, when really it is just the orcs and I. I have no military intentions if I rule the island, just to secure it of its precious glare." Nicolas pauses for a second, looks over to James, Kyral, Gorgul, and Uthor. "Now onto the words you've spoken, you say you hold a strong defense, but we both know that there is no better military force than the orcs and I. Along with friends such as James and Kyral we stand no fear of the ocean and its enemies. We stand the might to defend the island if any future problems come up. Malinor does not have enough defenses to protect and secure this island, deeming the elves unable to rule Armaluna." *Nicolas begins to sit in his chair in a form of great confidence chuckling.* "How can a nation such as yours rule an island that has citizens whom wish for me the rule. How can you control what the citizens what, you can not rule over people who don't wish for it. Let the last leader do what he wishes, but alas he is not suitable for the position and neither is Malinor."

Nicolas Silverblade yawns. In one hand lies a million mina note, scrawled out hastily by an agitated and awed monk. The other toys with a silverblade cutlass, a sterling example of human craftsmanship. Forged with haste and impatience, its blade lacked the quality and vigor of a dwarven blade, and a saddening lack of showmanship and engravings one may witness when dealing with an elven smith. But it had its human ingenuity, a passion that made him quite comfortable what others had deemed a pittable arm. As he lifted himself from a leather chair suited with the hide of a beaten sow, an old useless thing that he had quite the disdain for, he stumbles to his table. Maps, notes, letters are scrambled upon its glossy finish and Nicolas fumbles through the clutter, stopping on eyeing and old cartographers work on Asulon. Sweat tumbled down his brow as he emitted a low growl, an island beyond the Emerald Peninsula circled and adorned with a red ink to mark its significance. He had been too late for his little conquest, a splendid little acquisition voided by elven tomfoolery. But, he was given a chance, and a chance he took to present himself to the Elven Council. This land would be deemed his, his own toyings scrambling in his mind, a little land away from Oren for colonizations, a private experiment. The island’s decay had befuddled him, surprised that the elves would leave such natural beauty to rot. With letters aside the map addressing Nicholas to come vitalize the island with the touch and wealth of the Silverblade estates, Nicolas had figured time to set on his expedition. The letters had been drafted, and by the stroke of dusk, fifteen men of arms awaited outside the estate, awaiting Nicolas exit. The men’s eyes, wavering from fatigue, had turned to alertness as Nicolas made his way to the outskirts of his manor. His bannerman had taken to a plethora of Silverblade steeds, all of his men aside from Oren’s scarcely peasant-armed men. His soldiers were of his personal elite, groomed through wealth and experience to be loyal guards on such affairs. As Nico stepped inside the solitary carriage, he found himself aside two of his compatriots on his conquest, a sprightly Uthor Silverblade and a wizened James Hightower, accompanied by a lady friend. She kept mum as the men took to the carriage seat, engaging in simple conversation which delved into the very facets of their conquest. But Nicolas had made an interesting proposition, one which had taken James by surprise. “The Orcs? Of such madness, you speak? Why would we offer such collaborations with those desert mongrels?” an inquiring James had barked out, confused. “Calm yourself, Hightower, do not fuss in front of your fair maiden. This man of the Rex is a good man, I have fought at arms with him at my side. Alone we cannot govern an entire island without lending ourselves to Oren. Who knows what tribals or poisons lay in those tropics of ArmaLuna, and with the Rex’s men we may find ourselves at a better peace.” James grumbled in his seat. He was not the one to be annexing such lands, and while his significance as a land-owner granted him presence in their voyage to the Elven Council, he had no right to fuss and he had understood that. As the carriage made way to Arethor, a whole procession of bannermen had made its way through the busy market streets, landing themselves in the murky ports of the city. As the men boarded Syrio’s Beard, it was instructed to the ships captain to make way to Strigzgoi. The captain was baffled to such a request, but given a map and a compass, made haste to the War Uzg. They boarded furtively upon the docks of an establishing naval base, but quickly, a lone elf garbed in a peculiar orcish wear had apprehended them, signalling a whole Orcish warband of a dozen menacing Uruks. “Wub buiznezz latz hab, oomiez? Diz base nub dune yet, ef latz wub tu klomp den we am here” barked out the elf, agitated and weary from his work. Nicolas made his way off the boat with his men, approaching the elf. “Bring the Rex to me, and make it known that his ally Nico Silverblade has made way to share words with him.” The elf cackled loudly, before leaning forward, headbutting Nicolas square in the forehead. The man winced as the warband seized Uthor, James, and Nicolas. As the bannerman drew pikes, axes and swords, Nicolas quickly barked “This is their tradition, do not fret my men, we will not be harmed.” The party was dropped at the dunes in the Rex’s court, where the Rex groggily awoke from his den, slumping himself on the throne. Nicolas scratched his head as he looked up to the Rex, quickly addressing him “His Rexcellency, it seems we’ve been taken to you! How do you fare on such a star-bright evening?” The Rex, annoyed at Nicolas’ cheeriness at such an ungodly hour, grunts. “And good to you, my fair weathered friend. I have come to make correspondence of the lands of ArmaLuna? You have heard of such place, yes?” Another grunt, this one of acknowledgement. “Well, we have fought alongside another, and the Silverblades wish to annex this land. It has remained stagnant without life, and the assistance of the War Uzg would be good. We need your men to survey the land and insure that our elite guard is not hurt. Unfortunately we lack the manpower to stabilize such a territory, but we have the governance and sovereignty to establish the War Uzg in turning ArmaLuna to a joint-colony governed by the Rex and I.” The Rex smiles. He has spent much time fighting against the dwarves, especially when he was younger, with Nicolas, and is pleased that Nicolas had skipped the formalities. He had made a few correspondences over such a deal, but had no formal intent to go through with it. He toyed the idea of the naval acquisition, another island along with Va’Kharjyra to plop under the War Uzg’s domain. “Latz wub me to kome wid latz to blah wid dem elvez about diz...? Ef it am juzt det, den det am a simple requezt, especially fer latz loyalty to me againzt dah gazatz, Nicolas. Give me ash night, agh we guw.” As the Rex turns to return to his quarters, he snaps his fingers to two Orcs, Zogtar’lur and Grogmar’Gorkil who were awoken to help guard the Rex as he spoke with Nicolas. The Orcs nod, before turning to the slave quarters, bringing almost two dozen slaves to the expedition. As the Rex rests in his den, the members of the expedition make merry in the taverns and dunes of the Orcish lands. When dawn strikes, the Rex signals the slaves back to their quarters, and he joins the expedietion, along with a select few members of the Krughai to act in his guard. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The expedition sails to Malinor, docking near its port. As a whole horde of near fifty individuals, ranging from wily brutes of the Orcs to the posh upper-crust of Oren marches through Normandor, the elves panic, suspecting some form of attack. Sounding their alarm, sentinels and vanguards pour in near the gates, armed to the teeth, ready to fire. Nicolas raises his hand in the air, indicating a sort of peace, before making it known it is an act of diplomacy. The elves drop their weapons, flabbergasted why diplomacy would require a near-army of men. They give the news to the Elven Council members, regarding it is probably for the discussion of ArmaLuna. As the Rex, Nicolas, Uthor, and James make their way to the Elven Council, Nicolas begins the proceedings with a simple “We have to come speak of our desire to acquire ArmaLuna. The lands lay barren under your rule and my allies cry to me to come and annex it, bring life to a forgotten land.”

((Warclaim postponed until RP thread is up and going.))

I don't know about you guys, but I absolutely adore this new update. Good on ya.

((This war-claim will be going through despite actions of other nations. If other nations to decide to defend this land then so be it.))

Conquest: Conquest is the act of military subjugation of an enemy by force of arms. In other words it is the de jure incorporation of some territory into another geo-political entity (either adjacent or non-contiguous). Usually, it is implied that the territory and population being annexed is the smaller, more peripheral, and weaker of the two merging entities, barring physical size. Opposing Faction: The Silverblade forces + Allies Defending Faction: ArmaLuna Name of the battle: The Warrior's Fate. Location: I'll update this later, I don't know the exact name of the region. Time: (at least 5 days warning): Sunday September 8th, 6pm EST. -Time Changed- Terms: - No enchanted weapons, except Power I bows. - No Golden Apples. Rewards: region/biome swaps ownership Rp Reasoning: -EDIT RP THREAD HERE- Nicolas Silverblade sits in the one of his many homes in Arethor, looking out the window as he enjoys a cup of tea with his brother, Gideon. In front of them lays a map of Asulon, points and positions laid across it. Nico’s eyes trail the map towards an island off of the coast of The Island Nation of Holm. His eyes narrow as they look over the island, he raises his hand from his cup, pointing towards the island, “Gideon, what island be that right there?” Gideon squints from across the table, “Which Island?” Nico takes back his hand, putting it on the handle of his teacup. He shakes the cup a bit; tea comes over the sides into the saucer. He then picks the cup up and places it over the island, leaving a circle around it. Gideon chuckles, “Ah, you mean ArmaLuna, yes that was quiet a fun island.” Nico chuckles, familiar with the islands customs, he says, “Armaluna, lovely bards, great music, and beautiful woman.” He chuckles, “How is it doing now adays?” Gideon squints at Nico, “Its been abandoned for years, Nico, I thought you new of that.” Nico frowns at Gideons words, then stares down at the island on the map, shaking his head, an idea forms. “A beautiful place, such as ArmaLuna, can not die in this kind of way. Prepare some ships with supplies and crews, it will be in the Silverblades names to bring life back into ArmaLuna.” Gideon nods, agreeing with Nico’s idea. He then rushes out of the house to go get ships and a crew. Nico smiles down at the map, taking another sip of his tea, smiling at his good intentions for ArmaLuna.

*Looks up to the sky and starts clapping, he then speaks, "Let the Games begin!"*

*A small chubby boy, one of a peasant family runs around the Cloud temple while his parents are hard at work in the lumberyard. He goes up to the pillar interested in what it may contain. He sees an advertisement for purchasing wood, obsidian and stone, he proceeds to take the note off the pillar and turns it in a small crumpled up ball. He then takes this ball and plays with other fellow chubby friends.*

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