Bawg

The Pruvian winds up his wine press to crush another fine harvest into a barrel. "Another great opportunity to sell my wines and whiskey. I certainly cannot wait for the festivities to begin!"

Discord: Bawg#4579

Skin: Blue Orange Robes

Bid: 50 Minas

RP Name: John Michael Pruvia-Provins
MC Name: Bawggie
Voted: Yes

IRP NAME: John Pruvia-Provins

DISCORD: Bawg#4579

IRP AGE: 45

LIST OF THREE GIFT IDEAS: Wine, My Presence, Simon Casimir

The woods surrounding the Eye of Man ~ 1795

Travelling to the arctic regions in the wilderness, there were many instances where the ISA would come in contact with a hostile foe. Their crimson red uniforms pronounced their undisguised presence to all nearby without a word or without the regulars knowing an enemy was stalking them. Their companies would split off from their formation to check nearby points of interest leaving them at a disadvantage.  Lack of reconnaissance of the nearby area had put unnecessary risk on the lives of the ISA soldiers. Thoughts began to circle which ultimately birthed training and equipment to combat these disadvantages.

Sergeant Willem Galbraith would be the first to challenge this assumption The Sergeant had brought a light grey woolen blanket to keep warm while he was deployed for those few days.  He would often take point as the blanket concealed most of his body and wasn't as striking as the lobster red uniform. It was difficult to find him most mornings as the winds would kick up the snow making it difficult to see what was in front of you. Sergeant Galbraith would practically vanish and the company would rely on his return for a scouting report since it was near impossible to keep track of him. Lieutenant Shadowsteel is also another challenger that would be deployed much to these arctic regions and made an observation to the number of animals that wandered the region, rabbits, foxes, wolves, and bears. Their furs would make excellent insulation and prevent the regulars from contracting frostbite which was not a rare occurrence.

After reviewing these observations and complications, the Fifth Brigade took action and began to develop warm wear for their soldiers who may be deployed to the frozen north. The Fifth conducted two hunting missions with the collaborative effort from the Sillumir of Haelun’or to promote wilderness survival training and to obtain a number of thick animal hides to be delivered to Master Seamstress Minerva de Selm. After many months, she was able to develop and piece together lightweight equipment that could be adopted for all winter warfare deployments. 

The uniform has varying shades of white and grey to make themselves more difficult to be seen in colder climates whilst the inside is layered with furs to insulate body heat. Soldiers often have a face mask to cover their mouth and trap the warmth from their breath, but more often than not do not wear the facemask as they transverse the bitter landscape. Their padded leather gloves are lightweight and the palms are able to firmly grip the hilt of a weapon without it slipping from the wearer’s hand. Their boots resemble much like a highlander’s, coated with fur to prevent their phalanges from the blistering winds and mounds of snow. Over their coats strapped to them is a belt that is used from a number of tools from a medical pouch to a sheath for a combat knife.

The ingenuity and foresight from the deployed soldiers are what began this plan. The Fifth Brigade had delegated their tasks out to enlightened individuals, such as Minerva de Selm, with the vision that could strengthen the ISA’s military prowess. Training and tactics were formulated to give the Empire the edge it would need in combat, providing the tools and resources to who it would benefit the most. Other observations will go under review and study to further all campaigns in the northern region.

                                                                                                                                  Signed by ~ John M. Pruvia-Provins,
                                                                                                                  Captain of the Fifth Brigade

I felt like I thought of this myself yesterday or perhaps I saw a glimmer of your post. I just wanted to make the joke that you listen to this.
 

Hope you liked my terrible joke.

MC Name:

         Bawggie

Character's Name:

         John Pruvia-Provins

Character's Age:

         41

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Alchemy

Teacher's MC Name:

         DiscoLiquid

Teacher's RP Name:

         Grouch Carrington

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the feat? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yes

MC Name:

         Bawggie

Character's Name:

         Jin Wei

Character's Age:

         8

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         N/A

Transformed form:

         Hou-Zi

Creator's MC Name:

         N/A

Creator's RP Name:

         N/A

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

 Before Metzli created the Kharajyr, she began an experiment on the Houzi by granting an alpha monkey, Hou-Shen, sentience. He is known as the Immortal Monkey King and is revered as a god among the Hou-Zi. He built the jewel of the Empire, Jing-Taiyun, the capital of the monkey people. After Metzli commanded Hou-Shen to expand further from the jungles of the isle, they would begin a grand conquest of the Elven peoples that resulted in conquering the isle of Asul and establishing footholds on the isles of Tahn and Ceru.

After the defeat of Hou-Wang at the city of Andria, the monkey people saw another great loss that would halt the conquest. Malin and his generals launched a three-pronged attack on the Hou-Zi detachment in the defense of Naeri-onn. This resulted the Hou-Zi and the Elves to come to peace talks and finally end the war for a hundred years. 

Hou-Shen replenished his supplies and his forces after that hundred years and the Immortal Monkey King had set out to complete his great ambition... To conquer all of Axios. He led the attack on Malinor City, but was slain in battle which ultimately destroyed the morale of the Hou-Zi. The three sons of Hou-Shen were pushed back to the jewel of the Hou-Zi Empire, Jing-Taiyun, but an old God known as the The Poison crippled the city by flooding the halls and palaces with red mist. 

Metzli saw this as an interference with her experiment and took the spirit of Hou-Shen and regenerated a new body for him to lead his people once more. The Monkey King rebuilt Jing-Taiyun and had took up arms to reclaim his land now that the Elves were fractured as a people. The Hou-Zi were quite successful in defeating the wood elves and high elves. They had pushed the dark elves into their mountain and were going to starve them out. But the High Elves were able to push them back with arcane magick, the Wood Elves were nomads of the forest and never had a permanent home for the Hou-Zi to claim, and the monkey men became impatient, charging into the mountain only to be torn apart by mali'ker shamans.

In a final battle, the elves came together, because of a common foe. They defeated the three sons and pushed Hou-Shen back into the jungles where they offered his people a chance at life. The Elves allowed the Hou-Zi to live and Jing-Taiyun to remain, if they were to never leave the jungles again. Hou-Shen reluctantly agreed and surrendered to the Elven people.

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

Jin Wei is a descendant of Hou-Wang, the first born of the Monkey King. His fur is golden with various shades of orange and yellow while his face is a bright blue. The Hou-Zi's nose is snubbed and his eyes are jet black. His subrace is the most common of the Hou-Zi, a Laobai-Zhu. He is quite agile and versatile, short of stature and not a heavy set humanoid. Jin Wei is dressed in a pair of white trousers and is rarely seen with a sage green vest.

The  Fei-Zhu are the smaller and more colorful of the Hou-Zi people. They can live much longer than the common folk of the Hou-Zi. They are descendants of the second son, Hou-Da.

Hei-Zhu are the largest of the Hou-Zi descending from Hou-Xiao, the third son of Hou-Shen. They are the strongest and experience long lives up to 250 to 300 years old.

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         N/A

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         N/A

Do you understand that if this creature's lore is undergoing an activity trial and that trial fails, you will no longer be able to play this creature and will be forced to either revert the character back to its normal form (if it was a transformative type) or stop playing the character entirely (if it is an entirely new creature)?:

         Yes

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

IGN: Bawggie

Name: John Pruvia-Provins

ISA Rank: Lieutenant

Event(s): All

Epic!

What pokemon am I?

Title

Invention Lore - Adhesive Pads

Description

An adhesive pad is a thick piece of cotton gauze that is rectangular in shape with a small flap on one of the shorter ends. It is no bigger than an adult man’s palm. This piece of gauze has jailor’s moss applied to one side so that it would stick to the skin of the injured. The container is a metal tin that is just big enough to contain a single adhesive pad that would be placed face down as it doesn’t cling to metal surfaces.

When withdrawing the adhesive pad from the metal tin, the user will need to pinch the protruding flap and carefully place it over the flesh wound, pressing it firmly onto the skin. If an artery was severed, tippen’s root should be applied before placing the adhesive pad atop of the wound.

Ideally, once the patient is transported to safety, the user will pinch the flap and remove the adhesive pad without having to roll 15+. After the pad is removed, the medical professionals may continue to clean, suture, and bandage the flesh wounds.

Capabilities

The invention is used as an extra hand when attempting to clot an actively bleeding wound on an unconscious person or lack of assistance nearby.

Great to use on an active battlefield, triage, and an extra hand when treating a patient with multiple injuries.

Useful when one does not have immediate assistance from others or no medical knowledge for flesh wounds.

Red Lines/Restrictions

- Effective when applied to small to medium sized flesh wounds. Large lacerations would require multiple adhesive pads and are less effective.

-Adhesive pads can slow blood flow from an artery, but cannot adequately clot it without an application of tippen’s root.

-The faux stickiness of Jailer’s Moss persists long after the plant dies though not enough to completely immobilise a full-sized descendant, each measure only capable of securely holding 4kg like Velcro before the leaves break. Double the force necessary to lift a ‘stuck’ object is required to remove it from a measure of Jailer’s Moss’ hold or to pluck Jailer’s Moss from it.

-Jailer’s Moss will cling to any solid surface besides metal or glass, meaning pulling it off of one surface with one’s hand will likely render it stuck to a non-metallic or glass glove or the skin of one’s fingers unless a roll of 15+ is achieved. 

-The hooks on Jailer’s Moss are too thin to cause any real damage beyond mild irritation when embedded into the skin and will break long before skin can be broken when it is stretched by pulling the moss off.

Purpose (OOC)

The main purpose of this invention is to help clot the blood of minor flesh wounds and buy more time for the medical professional if the blood loss is severe. This will be beneficial to medical professionals who are undermanned in triage, emergencies in an unstable environment, and for those who lack medical knowledge for flesh wounds.

 It fits well with LoTC’s canon, because it builds further on the lore that was approved. There are not any intricacies or complications in its design. The invention is quite simple by just applying something sticking to a surface and applying it to a wound.

Citation Spoiler

The Elder Rhenyari of Pruvia-Provins succumbs to the comfort of a chair outside in the breezy autumn winds looking to the gray blanket of clouds concealing the sky. A sigh of relief escapes him as he wraps himself in a wool quilt and rocks in the wooden chair as he glances down from the sky to the workers setting up the tents and activities for the upcoming party.

A lone Rhenyari remembers fondly the 3^rd Brigade Captain accepting him into the fold with an oath and his pledge to the Empire.

“So help me GOD!” rings loud in his thoughts as he was inducted and given his reds. John Pruvia-Provins was just a boy who that wished to prove to his family and his country of his potential. From a young age, he dabbled in medicine and began to go on various combat missions that meant the difference between life and death for some. He too cemented friendships with many of his comrades, such as, Felix Haff’es, Alistair Brashton, and Azariah O’Rourke. 

His character was shaped by nobility he thought were above him, but John Charles and Elizabeth Anne had welcomed him and joined him in arms. The Viscount met the love of his life, Casimira de Sarkozy, in the ranks of the military and created a loving family with her.

The ISA had provided for him, so it is his sworn duty to provide for the Empire he has sworn to protect. The young boy with barely a whisker on his chin had grown into a man, battling scyfling, villains, and Inferi alike. A sword in one hand and likely a Tippen’s Root salve in the other. He remembers the moment John d’Arkent asked about his son, Peter Baldwin, and his thoughts on his captain. 

His reply, “I would travel with him to hell and back a thousand times over.”

The view from the lakefront of the Marble Palace ~ 1789

It was a silent late night in the Marble Palace, there were no crickets chirping, no footsteps stepping, not even a whisper could be heard. A dim light could be seen from the library of the snow white chateau. That is where a lone John Pruvia-Provins diligently wrote the  results of his experiments and the theories that he was able to catch before they fluttered away from existence. At the foot of his desk lay countless sheets of paper with different designs of his invention and how they could be best utilized when on the battlefield. 

There were some designs that could cover a large lacerations, but such designs were quickly scrapped due the limited carrying capacity, the size of the adhesives were too large to be part of the kit soldier’s were already equipped with, and the jailor’s moss sticky properties would cause more frustration as it would connect to other parts of the gauze which would delay someone from quickly responding to their injured comrade. Ostro-Clot would be the best solution to a large laceration that needed to be treated immediately he thought, at least for now.

Other drafts were more compatible with the current kit of supplies that a soldier carries onto the field. Smaller sketches were useful, but highly ineffective since the military did not have many halflings, dwarves, or small children among their ranks. Pruvia-Provins would tuck this sketch away and look back at it another time as it did not gauge his current objective. John would gaze at his notes for a moment as he believes he found the most suitable draft that could easily be applied to a soldier’s kit and be quickly applied without delay.

It was a mid-size piece of adhesive gauze, one that could fit in a man’s palm. This design could cover most stab, pierce, and slash wounds that would be anticipated to come from war. The only concern was if the adhesive would further damage if it was applied over the wound. John Pruvia-Provins stood up from his desk and began to walk down the silent halls of The Marble Palace to the foyer where Bullfog would have prepared his medical kit, readied his coat, and lit a small lantern. The wonk dips his head to the Rhenyari, “Master John. I have prepared all the necessities. Are you ready to visit the farmer?” John glances to his truehearted butler and nods singularly to him, closing his tired eyes as he shuffles towards the door. “Yes, let us go before we wake anyone.”

They travel to the city farms in the southwest of Helena where they would meet with a sun-beaten farmer with an emptied crossbow in hand. Bullfog would slip a coin purse of marks into his faded overalls as they entered the barnhouse where the hogs snorted and squealed. One swine had laid upon the mud-caked floor with a bolt between its eyes. John had placed his kit on the ground beside the corpse before withdrawing a scalpel and making an incision the size of a stab wound along the rib cage. The blood was still hot to the touch as it dribbled from the pig’s body. Bullfog kneels down beside John with three tobacco tins, carefully opening them. Encased inside were the prototypes of the Rhenyar’s invention and withdraws an adhesive before pressing it to the freshly made incision. They had waited a few moments staring at the pad to discover that the blood would not bleed through easily. John pinched the small flap and peeled the adhesive free to discover the adhesive did not bring further harm to the wound.

Pruvia-Provins would shift over towards the head of the swine and lift its snout with a scalpel in hand before slitting its throat. He moves an open hand to the faithful amphibian. “A couple more tests and we will be done here.” John cups his hand as the wonk hastily produces another adhesive placing it into his hand. He swiftly placed it over the laceration that is gurgling copious amounts of blood.

The gauze had slowly begun to wet with a bright crimson color, but it held the blood back for roughly fifteen minutes before it had bled through. John leans in to pinch the adhesive and pull it free from the experimental laceration. “Bullfog!” He would call out as his wonk butler hurriedly would hand him another adhesive bandage, this time the Rhenyari would apply pressure to witness if the results would vary. After holding down the bandage for what seemed like hours, he would pull back and see that the results were similar. The Rhenyari furrowed his brow before as he looked briefly to the wonk who had a silver watch in his hand. “Only seventeen minutes, Master John.” He nodded once before moving to his feet and reaching for a handkerchief from his coat pocket and began to wash his hands of the pig’s blood. Pruvia-Provins mentally notes that if an artery were to be cut it would not be the most efficient way to stop the profuse bleeding without applying tippen’s root beforehand.

The trip back to the estate was brief and the Rhenyar and the Wonk wished each other good night before they would separate at the stairwell. John dragged his feet as he shuffled down the hall to his medicine room and began to pen his findings of the night. After reviewing the results of the bandages, he settles for the original design that would save time and be produced easily. He analyzes his work and mumbles to himself as he scans it. For what it is, the blueprint is simple where one would spread the jailor’s moss on one side of the gauze pad. Any other application should be added before placing the adhesive over it.

Pruvia-Provins’ eyes began to feel heavy as he peered out the window to view in the dawn of a new day. The overcast kept the sun's bright rays from shining through, but illuminated the clouds with an indigo blue. The lamp posts remained vigilant and unmoving in the bitter cold of autumn. He slowly placed his arms in front of him where his head could lay while he rested his weary eyes.

The Rhenyari Lieutenant gazes at the Harlingen in awe as it sets sail to the south to wreck havoc upon the feeble Inferi forces. “Can’t wait to fire a few cannons off at those demon bastards.”

Lieutenant John Pruvia-Provins would sit quietly as the two stood up on the alter. The moment they were wed he would excitedly jump to his feet and begin applauding the two! “I know that guy!”

John Pruvia-Provins smiles proudly as he had helped his little girl pen all these invitations for the children of the Empire.  He consults with Bullfog to help with some arrangements around the estate before the tea party!

The Eastgate Bridge of Helena ~ 1786

It was a dreary afternoon, a couple of days after determining the strength of moss’ hold and if it were possible to remain over an actively bleeding wound. John Pruvia-Provins stood in his dispensary, inspecting his hand that was now barren of hair follicles. He scoffs in displeasure at the unsightly results of his recklessness before taking up a piece of gauze and his silver butter knife once again to experiment the capabilities of this herb.

After generously buttering one side of the pad, John had sighed once before cupping his hand to keep the adhesive from falling out of his hand and onto the floor. He firmly pressed the gauze pad into his skin atop his hairy forearm as if he were applying it to a lacerated wound. The Rhenyari would raise an eyebrow as he would stare down at the pad; His face twisted into a grimace that reflected his discomfort as he felt the tiny moist hooks sinking into his flesh.

The gauze rested on his arm for a few moments before John pinched the flap and slowly began to peel it free. He would sneer as the moss would tug on every hair it came into contact with and revealed that the skin underneath had reddened from the painful action. John would pause for a moment as half the gauze was nearly off. He would grit his teeth and tear it off in a moment’s notice. The Rhenyari would growl through clenched teeth as he attempted to suppress the pain after ripping the hair-infested adhesive from his arm leaving an inflamed and reddened mark.

The faithful butler, Bullfog, knocks on the door of the medicine room before entering and informing the Viscount of recent news. “Master John! A letter from the ISA was sent for you! It is urgent that you get to the Helena Hospital immediately!” John places a hand over his arm concealing his acute injury from the wonk and says in a pained tone, “Ah. Yes. Please get my coat ready. I will depart shortly. Thank you, Bullfog.”

After a short trip to the hospital, John would rest his eyes on a wounded soldier,  Viktoriya DeNurem, who had gone missing in action for about a year when her squadron was on a mission. She would let loose guttural screams that would curdle your blood and her body was riddled with cuts, scrapes, and muck from where she was held. A few soldiers held her down as she was forcibly sedated by downing a whole flask of cowslip wine. Once she began to fall unconscious, Pruvia-Provins would quickly get to work, ordering his student Azariah to assist him while he began applying Tippen’s Root to halt the actively bleeding areas to stabilize the woman. The student brought back a drenched wash cloth and began to clean the numerous wounds of the Tippen’s Root and the grime that caked her torso. Pruvia-Provins would scan her body for severe lacerations and would hastily begin to lace them up with a thread and needle. The procedure was nearly done, the medics were going to disinfect the wounds with thyme oil, before applying paddings of gauze and a wrap of bandages.

 A stroke of enlightenment had overcome John as he attempted to place a number of paddings against the treated lacerations to the woman. He required the assistance of Azariah and Viktoriya’s husband, Sir Alaric DeNurem, to assist with holding down the pieces of gauze while John wrapped bandages around her body to keep the gauze in place. Pruvia-Provins would finish treating the wounds and the only thing that would come to mind is the what if… “What if I was on the battlefield? What if I was alone? What if there were more injured?” These thoughts fluttered as he thought of his past treatments in triage and surgery. 

He could remember his first triage after an assault on a scyfling fortification. There were many injured Haensemen and some ISA soldiers that had rushed into the fray to rid this rot on the world. John could remember all the injured men that were scattered across that tiny hospital, three men took up the only beds, whilst the rest were scattered about the floor with medics kneeling by their sides. Some men were unrecognizable physically and mentally after that grizzly assault. 

Pruvia-Provins also recalled the time when he observed his mentor, Tatyana Ruthern, perform eye surgery on a young Sofiya Baruch which required another person to be there to apply Tippen’s Root to halt a massive amount of blood loss while she methodically worked to remove the arrow from that young woman’s eye. In that moment, he was brought back to his roots, a flurry of questions swirling about his mind. He shook himself from his thoughts and continued to work to stabilize his patient.

The return home was quiet, the leaves were wet from the drizzling rain. The overcast of clouds covered the familiar blue sky. The night's breeze was cold enough to chill the bones, only the warmth of a coat or furs to keep someone comfortable.. The leaves were turning from their vibrant green to a plethora of reds, oranges, and yellows. Despite the dreary weather, John found solace in the racing thoughts from his studies. His idea was nearing completion now, all that was needed was to put it to real practice. 

John Pruvia-Provins receives a letter from an envoy, he walks to his office and takes his silver letter opener and pinches the parchment inside to unravel its contents. A smile comes across his features as he reads the union of his nephew and his old comrade. He records the date and gazes at his wife and children prancing about the gardens. “I am happy everything was able to settle and wish happiness to be showered upon these two.”

The Petrine Knight smiles brightly as his Empress will be coronated soon. He looks to his comrades in the Imperial State Army’s Bastille and jovially says “One God! One Empire! One Empress!”

He would continue, “I know the coming years will be prosperous for this mighty Empire that has stood against so many and remained unwavering.”

A glance outside the Provins Estate ~ 1785

The Lieutenant Physician had stood in his dispensary and arrayed his tools before him. A specially made metallic mortar & pestle, numerous paddings of gauze, a simple silver butter knife and a small silver teaspoon had laid neatly on his workspace. He reached for his leather gloves that sat at the corner of his station and gently pulled them over his hands before hearing a knock at the door. “That must be my shipment.” The Marble Hall Butler, Bullfog, had promptly answered the door and had escorted the envoy to the cramped dispensary. The guest was a young corporal carrying a crate in his hands which he cautiously placed down on the table in the center of the room. The heterochromatic corporal produced a crowbar and had pulled the top end of the crate free to display the contents inside. The two soldiers gave each other a brief salute before the other was escorted out with the guidance of the butler.

John peered into the crate, reaching inside to withdraw a jar with a yellow, mucus-like substance from within, “Jailor’s Moss”, the man would mutter to himself. He had unscrewed the lid of the jar and placed it upon the counter before grabbing his silver teaspoon scooping out the moss and placing it within the metallic bowl. The Lieutenant would take the metal pestle and began to rigorously ground the mucus-like substance for a few minutes to manipulate its natural form until its texture appeared to be ooze-like that glistened when a light was shined upon it.

He had pinched the handle of a butter knife and raised it towards his features for him to examine its cleanliness. After a few moments of gazing back at himself in its brilliant reflection, he would see his loyal companion, Bullfog, standing behind him. The Wonk croaked as he had spoke to John Pruvia, “Master John, my apologies for being nosy. Do you need further assistance?” The Rhenyari had plunged the knife into the mortar to get a swab of ooze before replying to him. “If you could help me by unloading the glass jars and place them into storage; that would be quite helpful! Thank you!” John went about gathering an adequate amount of jailor’s moss before reaching for a nearby gauze pad coating one end with the substance. “Reminds me of the toasted bread in the Helena Marketplace,” he would chuckle.

Bullfog would return the chuckle after hearing the comment, “You are making me hungry!” John Pruvia would cup his hand as he held the coated padding, carefully pressing it against the wooden crate. The wonk butler would raise his eyebrows if he had any, “Master John, you have been talking about your ‘medical invention’ for some time, why are you placing it against the box?” A jovial grin cames across John’s features before he answered, “To be honest, I am nervous putting it against my own skin. Today’s experiment is to see how difficult it would be to remove it, if I can remove it at all.” He leaned over the box attempting to remove the adhesive patch by peeling the corner, but he was unable to get a handle on it. John would turn to Bullfog with a sheepish look on his face, “I am happy I didn’t put it on myself first. I may have never gotten it off!”

The office was quiet for a few moments as John was lost in deep thought on how to remove the bandage without having to misuse one of his medical tools or make an entirely new tool for the procedure. His eyes had widened as he came to a conclusion and rose from his chair. The Rhenyari frantically began searching for his surgical scissors in his medical rucksack. Once the scissors were found, he took a bundle of gauze pads and began to tailor them into these rectangular patches with rounded corners leaving a small flap protruding out one of the shorter ends. 

“It had proven quite difficult for me to peel the gauze off the crate, perhaps if this flap isn’t coated it may prove to be somewhat easier to remove.” John Pruvia followed his regular procedure by applying the manipulated moss like butter to toast, cautious enough to ensure that he wouldn’t coat the flap with the sticky substance. He gazed at the wooden crate and had stuck the piece of adhesive gauze to a barren side, pressing it firmly against the surface. “Now lets see if I can pull it off.” The flap was pinched between John’s thumb and index finger and he exclaimed in surprise by the resilience of the jailor’s moss, “Gah! Well, we will never have to worry if it will hold!” John placed a hand against the top of the crate to keep it still before successfully removing the sticky patch. In his excitement, he would raise the gauze pad in the air as it was torn from the box, “The box is free from its sticky burden!”

The butler would slap his amphibian palms together as a way to applause, “Well done, Master John!” John would graciously bow as if he had just performed a work of art. A worried look would come across Bullfog’s face, “Master John! It is stuck to your hand!” The furrows his brow and thinks to himself, “This can’t possibly be that painful to remove.” He would pinch the flap and would let out a yelp as some hairs were removed along with the adhesive bandage.

((IGN)): Bawggie

Name: John Pruvia-Provins

Rank: Lieutenant

The Lieutenant prepares his medical rucksack, counting his salves and bandages. He reaches for a pouch of flash powder and a matchbox. “Hopefully these come in handy. Especially the matchbox, I don’t want to rub sticks together in attempt to start a fire again.”

John Pruvia was found writing in his estate when a letter was brought to him by an envoy. As he had cut open the letter and studied the contents, he would gently let it rest upon the spruce wood desk in his study. He takes a seat in the cushioned leather seat and sighs heavy as he buries his face in his hands. 

The Viscount runs his fingers through his thick, wavy hair as the news of his cousin’s death causes his heart to sink into his stomach. “I haven’t felt this for quite sometime.” He would mutter thinking back to a similar feeling when his mother, Princess Anna Maria, had passed.

He opens a drawer and begins to make arrangements for his three daughters to be sent a bouquet of violet peonies. A letter is sent to each.

”Dear cousins,

I would like to invite you to Provins for a funeral procession and attend the burial of your father, Peter Sigismund. 

Before his death, he had said that we had grown close as if we were brothers and I was fortunate enough to invite him into my home before his passing. Please allow me to put him to rest in the Marble Hall. It is the last act of kindness I would like to offer him.”

-Viscount John M. Pruvia-Provins