Arteh
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Posts posted by Arteh
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Falador Frostbeard beats his chest in anticipation, mimicking a rabid ape. He would appear eager to please his forefathers; Karl and Gorum Frostbeard.
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Mbappe'Ugluk sits beside a fire, glancing at a rogue invitation that he found. He briefly lets out a grunt, followed by shaking his head.
"Diz bi am zau mojo. Illska! Diz am bi skahin da kasi."
(This is blasphemy, black magic. Evil! They're ******* up the culture.)
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Stay blessed homies..
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Great work.
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The Azghari Warband
“When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hell followed with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.”
The Azghari Tribe is a band of nomadic peoples hailing originally from the lands of Vailor where they roamed the empty valleys and plains. Known for their proficiency in horse riding, they are feverous warriors and skilled craftsmen. Initially, the Azghari people worshipped the eternal blue sky and Tengri, however over-time they renounced their pagan ways and adopted the Imam e Rashidun faith. Azghari scholars and members of the ulema interpreted the faith in their own way and have minor adaptations and as well as cultural elements incorporated into their belief.
The Azghari possess an intriguing distinction in their eyes that is seen through the colours of brown, green and blue. Their hardihood is evident in their wild appearance, and they are beings who are cruel to their children on the very day they are born. For they mark a cut on the males with a sword, so that before they receive the nourishment of milk they must learn to endure wounds. They are tall ain stature, quick in bodily movement, alert horsemen, broad shouldered, ready in the use of bow and arrow, and have firm-set necks which are ever erect in pride.
A travelling band, these nomads are oft on the move and rarely stay in the same place, the constant need for migration being a requirement for their herd in order to graze. The Azghari do not settle - fast moving horsemen that stay for only short times in a single place. Every member is expected to sustain themselves by their own tools, hunting game and slaying prey to feed them. Members of the tribe are encouraged to engage in enterprise and trade as well as craftly pursuits to provide value and income to the tribe. Slavery is accepted by the Azghari, and a man is judged on how many slaves he has taken. For those who are taken in bondage, freedom can only be earned by hard coin or valour shown in the Warband’s service - freeing them to fight as any other rider. For the wealth that is gathered in battle, every man receives an equal portion - the Warband knows no boundaries to brotherhood.
- The tribe follows a traditional Beylik leadership structure. The tribe is headed by a Beylerbeyi who is then accompanied and supported by other Beys who each command respect and power in their own right. The Beys act as a council which steer the direction of the tribe. Although ultimate authority lies with the Beylerbeyi, the society is heavily reliant on respect and as such disregarding the advice of the Beys can create rifts and internal disputes within the tribe.
- Legal proceedings in the tribe are overseen by an ‘Alim’ who is a prominent scholar of the Imam e Rashidun faith and uses religious text and guidance to oversee the justice in the tribe.
- The tribal income drives from their skilled craftsmen and women who create rugs, pottery and garments with unique designs. This is supplemented by income achieved through raids.
OOC: The aim of this group is to portray a realistic tribe, we intend on developing this from a nomadic tribe into a settled government. We aim to provide a mixture of roleplay and PVP elements to our members, however a heavy emphasis is placed on high quality roleplay.
If you are interested in filling a position of leadership within the tribe, please feel free to forum PM me.
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On 3/1/2021 at 2:20 AM, Lionbileti said:
Olivier chuckled at the thought of a d’Amaury in Norland. “It seems ole auggie is rolling in his grave.”
@Artehgg mate
Ole Auggie rests in an undisclosed location beside a fire, nursing some very bad ale as he ponders upon this news - controverisally wondering if he should return to reclaim his birthright.
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2 hours ago, Esterlen said:
The man, Fitzwilliam, burns in the splendor of Burning Bush (Peace Be Upon It).
“And we say, verily, liberty? That we may worship freely?” he inquires, smoking flesh immolating off the bone.
“Yes,” says Declan, “For that is the natural way of things.”
“Just so, Declan,” offers Fitzwilliam, but a crisp as now, “I am most worried about the spread of negative stereotypes surrounding the Nordlings...” he offers, as his leg disintegrates in the fire, “For the greatest crisis to all humanity is our hatred between each other.”
Peace be upon it.
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GOD bless Morsgad.
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“Cedden Dedin” mutters a disgruntled warrior
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- Popular Post
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Godric standing at the gates of Rubern
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFVrOC8gOhU
We shall have Peace
The orchestra of battle would roar about Godric as he wiped off his blood lathered boots. The cacophony of clashing blade and twanging bow filling the air, complimented by a choir of screams and snarls. Shards of shattered teeth littered the ground, as he’d watch a whimpering figure crawl away. The thing, once a man, was now wracked by a mixture of maddened laughter and sobbing. The back of its head bore the bloodied imprint of a boot heel, its mouth, shattered beyond repair.
Godric grimaced, turning his eyes to the battle raging about him. Haense had sallied out as his men dragged the once Emperor from the cells below. The whimpering man had his teeth set against the stone stairs.There was almost a sense of poetic justice to it all, he mused to himself. To stomp the skull of a man who had threatened him with such a fate. The pathetic figure crawling away now could never rule humanity, despite its flaws, sin, pettiness, and depravity. The races of man would tear down any but the strongest. A beautiful reality that denied all pretensions to law and civilization.
The pitch of the battle would lull as the last of the Haense soldiers were cut down for the third time that day. It never ceased to amaze the young duke how a faction with such a numerical advantage, so much experience in war could be so inept. He shook his head as the song of steel was replaced by one of death. Men begging for mercy, screaming for their mothers with bloodied hands outstretched to the sky. then silence as the cold faced warriors would plunge home their steel.
Godric would spit, before motioning a hand to one of his men; A young member of the Martyrs who had fought himself bloody defending his Duke. “Bring me pen and paper,” he’d say curtly as he waved the man off on the errand.
A Missive to the Wide Realms of Man
Where is Peace? For I cannot seem to find it? Is it hidden under the endless law tomes and decorum of the southern courts? For all my far searching it seems to elude me. Despite what the ramblings of the scholars. It is not paper that preserves the law. Nor is it ink that preserves the peace. It is men of conviction, men of action, but most of all men of strength. All the paper in the world, all the fancy words and endless codices of law are entirely useless without the weight of the sword. So when shall we have peace?
We shall have peace when the weakness of man is purged once and for all. For peace is the privilege of the strong. For too long have our thrones been plagued by the ineptitude of weaklings. A culture of mediocrity has infested the races of man. ‘Live and let live’ they mutter, chewing upon their cud like the fattened cattle they are. ‘An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind’ they whimper, sitting idly by in the face of injustice. Where are the great heroes and villains of our race? I look upon us now and see nought but those desperately clinging to the status quo.
There are those among you who think me a barbarian. A man driven by his passions, his whims to acts of cruelty, to acts of savagery. They call me a warmonger as I defend those who assaulted and avenge those who are murdered. I am not a kind man. I am not a charitable man. I am a harsh man. I am a just man. For these are the qualities necessary to a lord, a lord must not be ‘good’ a lord must not be ‘nice’. A lord must be a lord. He must serve his people justly in all things, and defend them from all evils. I see far too many who call themselves ‘nobility’ who conduct themselves basely.
Men of status who let insult pass them by, as if they were meek women. The Empress herself professes her ‘distance’ from her husband. Confessing to me that she prefers the bedchambers of other men. While her husband, the ‘Emperor’ pursues an Alf witch. Where has virtue gone from humanity? Where has the strength? How can we expect greatness and heroism as it was in the days of yore if the supposed best of us conduct themselves so basely. Is the church truly so weak? Is the canonist’s belief in their own religious law truly so fragile it is batted aside without comment?
So how shall we have peace? When the rot is burnt out branch, trunk and root from the body of humanity. When the tongue twisters, toe suckers and brigands hang from the slats of my bridge. With the events of today, I know we cannot have peace. For Peter is too weak a man to deserve it. Too weak a man to force it. Haense will burn for their crimes. Andrik can only hide behind the skirts of his woman generals for so long before I root him out from his burrow.
To those nobles of the wide realms of man: Know that today I trod upon the head of this ‘Emperor’, now rendered to little more than a shattered beast. Thrice the forces of Haense and Crown set upon the men of the AIS. Thrice they were slaughtered like cattle. Is this the man you would follow?
Godric,
WARCLAIM
TYPE OF WAR AND CBS
Claimant, Denouncement, Historical Grudge (two emperors, seahelm), Assault on an Ally, Murder of Citizens, Breaking Pacts (Western Alliance)
ATTACKERS
Alliance of Independent States + Allies
DEFENDERS
Haense and Allies
WARGOALS
Install Government
LOCATION AND PROPOSED TIME
TBD
CONTACT INFORMATION
Topman#6336
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Leufroy d’Amaury feels a sensation in his briches.
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Leufroy d’Amaury tears up the missive, tossing it aside.
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Arthur cheers and celebrates with the Reivers back at the Marnan camp.
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Arthur chuckles hearing the Pertinaxi fear-monegering of a Haensetic Empire. “They even manipulate their own people” scoffs Arthur.
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Arthur smiles are the news of his Elven bretheren aiding their just cause.
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Arthur hums the song.
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Arthur chuckles upon hearing the news of the Pertinaxi rabble being brought down.
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But you were already fighting with them?
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Arthur is in awe of the overnight construction of this fort.
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57 minutes ago, TrendE said:
Ser Darius Ault would laugh “I don’t think it does”Arthur scratches his forehead slightly, contemplating the delusion that exists within the Pertinaxi ranks. He remarks;
“Minor battles prior to the day of reckoning happen, they are never a reflection on what is meant to happen. Nonetheless, today our losses weight 8 men more than theirs yet they claim this as triumph. This is a testament to their lack of morale and weak will that they use this to delude themselves even further”
Arthur mutters a short prayer, praying for the sanity of the Pertinaxi to return.
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“These petty ‘victories’ are meaningless, you may have a better time building your morale otherwise.” remarks Arthur
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The Battle of Upper Rodenbourg
C. 1715, Jakub II Macdonough
“Takest hold of this blade, and by it thou shalt cleanse man of sin.”
Owyn 7:2
The fields of Leuven swelled with the united Imperial armies, joined by their stalwart allies, encamped as the war council, composed of the Orenian lords Arthur and Conrad, of the Falstaff bloodline, Henry de Guise, the Haeseni lordlings under Marius II, and the Vesnian militia officers commanded by a one Mr Watanabe, the young, valiant King Alfred II of Curon and his council and lastly the Princedom of Fenn lead by Crown Prince Aelthos Tundrak and his father, Aelthir Tundrak II. Before them, the blind pontiff entered the scene, carried in a litter manned by deacons. He was assisted up to a center altar, where he first announced prayer to the gather peers. Following after, he spoke from the Holy Canon;
“So it was that Joren saw the danger, and commanded Owyn Son of Godwin into the sewer. And the boy protested, but Joren was deaf to his nephew, and threw him into the sewers of the city, and Owyn Son of Godwin could not act whilst his guardian was beaten and shackled, his host of lords slain, and the virtuous Tara clubbed about the head. And deprived of their lord, the people of Edel were conquered by heathens and barbarians, and their land fell at last.
So the boy navigated the filth of the city in darkness, and soon the brick gave way to rough stone, and he came into a cavern. And the boy was overcome, and knelt in prayer, and wept for the fate of his kindred. And at once the darkness was cast out by a sword ablaze, and here GOD spake to Owyn.
‘Thou standest before Me in the waters of Gamesh, Owyn, son of Godwin, son of Horen. And thy people cry for justice and for purity. Takest hold of this blade, for it is a symbol of holiness, and by it thou shalt cleanse man of sin. Now, fleest forth from this unholy imitation of My city, and go into the village of Rafal, and fast there for three days, and I shall augment thee on the third. And thou shalt go into the court of Harren in thy fineries, and recite thy ancestry, and serve as his seneschal, and soon purity will come.’
So Owyn took up the sword, and was consumed in its warm fire, and he did as he was bade and went into the village of Rafal. And there he fasted for three days, and on the third he was blessed with immense holiness, and he bore garb of fine make, and the signet of his father.”
“The Holy Scroll of the Prophet Owyn.” High Pontiff Everard V rolls up the hefty scroll, the young, red-faced altar boys helping him set it aside. Before him knelt men of all creeds, highlanders, heartlanders, and farfolk alike, united by a common enemy, the Pertenaxi rebels. Royalty and commoner alike, all were equal in the Eyes of GOD, and all were equal in their goals. “My children, today, it is not our nations that are threatened, but our very core values as sons of the Prophets. The Pertenaxi dynasty has sinned against GOD, against what it means to be a human! Nay, my children, this shan’t go unpunished. GOD has called upon each and every one of us to take up the sword against sin, like His Prophet Owyn of yore, who cast out Harren and the diabolical Saraites!”
The Pontiff would be raised down from the altar he was on, the youth assisting the blind man continue his sermon while walking, “We are all given a purpose in our lives; it is why we were created by GOD. Consider, therefore, that the Almighty has given you life, perhaps, for this purpose, that through you He may restore humanity from such debasement and heresy. They have killed and captured many, and have devastated the Empire. If you permit them to continue with this impurity, the faithful of GOD will be much more widely attacked by them.
“Now, we stand on the eve of battle, facing heretics who would see us to our graves, and destroy our Church. We must liberate these people of sin, not for our sake, but for the sake of those who have strayed from the truth. GOD wills it!”
“Deus Magnus!”Type of War & CBs (if applicable)
Rivalry, Claimaint, Demands, Attack on Leadership with a Conquest Wargoal
AttackersHoly Orenian Empire + Allies/Mercenaries
DefendersPertinaxi Rebellion
Wargoals:Installation of Joseph I as Holy Orenian Emperor, removal of the Pertinaxi Rebels and control of Helena.
Location & Proposed Time
5pm EST/10pm GMT - Saturday, 18/05/2019 - https://i.gyazo.com/e411c0a8b37698b261f9adeeece04675.png
Contact InformationPM
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Arthur de Falstaff, Imperial Fieldmarshall also signs the agreement.
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THIS, OUR WAR
in Human Realms & Culture
Posted
Lothar d'Amaury glances at an unsigned flyer, scanning through it intently. He lets out a chuckle before glancing at the fellow Knights.
"It is interesting to see that the Adriatic people, once unified in their cause now grow fragmented and resentful of their liege lord. They are boastful of their ignorance to their history and ancestry but perhaps that is what they need to recall in times such as these. Do they forget the burning of Brelus? Or the sack of Barrowyck?"
Lothar d'Amaury would heave a sigh, performing the Lorraine cross over his chest.
"I pray these 'Men' find their courage. These are not the Adrians I recall reading of in the wars of Augustus."