Tentoa

Trevor sat by the warm fireplace in his wintry home, silent save for the popping of cinders and the occasional slosh of the tequila bottle he was nursing. For the second time in his long life he mourned the loss of a hyspian priest and beloved friend. He sighed and began to sing to himself...

Jiro, son of Hirano brought this missive to the Shugo immediately.

Log in and say it with your chest -1 If you think your addition is controversial you man up and take your ratio. But that aside I disagree on the principle that in the lore it also says Seers are loyal to Vaasek first and are capable of utilizing living lie to justify any inherent skirting of another Dieties tenants.

"TOTAL LURINITE DEATH." Declared Jiro, Son of Hirano who regardless of involvement awaited reparations of salt.

"Ok." Said Jiro, son of the Hirano

(This goes hard)

Queries to play a Hirano can be directed to me on Discord

Clan Hirano Origins During the Li-ren occupation of Oyashima, the Hirano family, who were peasants hailing from the largest and most agriculturally abundant island just south of Yamatai's capital, Yutakanoshima, endured heavy taxation by their Li-ren rulers. This taxation was so burdensome that it kept them on the verge of starvation, a fate shared by many Oyashimans under the Cathantian rule. As a result, they harbored a profound resentment towards their Cathantian overlords. The turning point for the Hirano family came during the Rebellion of Kais Ishikawa, which ultimately led to the expulsion of the Li-ren from Yamatai. Neji, the youngest son of the clan, distinguished himself by displaying exceptional martial skills that defied his lowly station. In recognition of his loyalty and prowess, the Shogun favored him and rewarded Neji with the governance of the very isle where he was born, in the name of the newly established Shogunate. Over the course of several generations, the Hirano family consistently proved themselves as staunch allies of the Ishikawa Shogunate. Their island, in addition to its significant agricultural contributions that played a vital role in sustaining Yamatai by supplying a substantial amount of rice produced luxury goods, including soju, whisky, tobacco, opium, and sake, which were highly sought after. This unwavering loyalty persisted even when Yorinobu ascended to power and brought with his rule a Yokai incursion. Notably, the Demon Shogun arranged for the marriage of a Hirano daughter to his brother, Yukiwashi, solidifying the bond between the Hirano family and the ruling elite of Yamatai. The Onryō of Yutakanoshima Tsune Hirano, the eldest daughter of Goro, was originally promised in marriage to Yukiwashi Ishikawa, a powerful Daimyo in Northern Yamatai and the brother of Yorinobu. This arrangement was made after Yukiwashi's first wife passed away due to illness. Meanwhile, Tsune's brother, Shinji, entered into a marriage alliance with the neighboring Minegawa clan. Tragedy struck Tsune when her firstborn son, Jiro, succumbed to illness at the tender age of ten. Shortly before the birth of Yukiwashi's third son, he was afflicted by a severe illness himself, which stemmed from a duel with Kenji Minegawa over a game of Go. Tragically, the Minegawa clan used Kenji's death during the duel as a pretext to join the rebellion against Yorinobu's rule. It was later revealed that Yukiwashi's demise had been orchestrated, and the blade used in the duel against him had been poisoned. With her second child about to be born and Yukiwashi's eldest son preparing for battle against the formidable forces of the Minegawa clan, Tsune foresaw the impending destruction of her late husband's legacy. In desperation, she turned to dark and ruthless tactics. Tsune offered herself in marriage to the Minegawa clan as a means to broker peace, but her true intentions were far more sinister. She poisoned every member of the clan, showing no mercy, not even to children or her brother's wife, Nao Minegawa. This act of revenge and treachery sent shockwaves through the region. Fully aware of the severe consequences her actions would bring, Tsune willingly submitted herself to the Shogun's court, anticipating her execution for the heinous crimes she had committed. However, she received an unexpected sentence—exile from her homeland. The scant details of this event have transformed it into a legendary tale of Oyashima, perpetuating the myth that Tsune, in her death, became an Onryo, a vengeful spirit of disaster and retribution, determined to exact revenge upon her husband's murderers. Modern Decline Shinji, who was consumed by grief over his wife's death and harbored suspicions regarding Yorinobu's clemency toward Tsune, believed that the annihilation of the Minegawa clan was a sinister ploy orchestrated by the Demon Shogun. With the Minegawa clan completely wiped out, Shinji, now the head of the Hirano family, made the decision to rally his supporters and align himself with the rebellion against Yorinobu. This act had significant consequences, as it deprived Yamatai of one of its primary sources of rice. The Hirano clan's resistance persisted for more than a century, but as time passed, they began to lose ground to the Shogunate forces. A profound tragedy struck the clan during this prolonged conflict. The Hirano were forcibly displaced from their ancestral home on Yutakanoshima, marking the loss of their cherished family lands. Additionally, a succession crisis emerged following the death of Koichi, the young and heirless reigning patriarch, who perished in battle. During this challenging period, the Hirano clan received an unexpected lifeline from distant smugglers. They delivered a letter addressed to the clan from a long-lost relative named 'Jiro.' In this letter, 'Jiro' pledged safety for the clan from the relentless pursuit of the Shogunate's forces, all under the watchful protection of the clan's patron Yokai—a Kitsune. Faced with few viable alternatives, some members of the Hirano clan made the difficult decision to embark on smuggling ships bound for distant lands, where they hoped to join their enigmatic relative 'Jiro' and find refuge as refugees.

This is one of the admin decisions of all time

Jiro Hirano confessed openly to the crime of taking the woman's life. What he had intended as harmless mischief resulted in the death of a woman who had done him no harm and he went with the authorities willingly to face his punishment. There was no glory for the would-be samurai in this woman's passing, she was not a beast nor a combatant to face down in honorable melee. In his heart he weighed the grief of death, of bloodshed in a manner he had never previously. He knew not why fate had ordained this, only that he regretted his part in it.

Nah lets keep the cooldown a month, it encourages Siliti to make bonds and take thralls, to build a coven and start making moves to secure themselves. I don't like buffing them like this. To give you the example, blood magic is fairly common right now. You would want to teach your thralls and make sure you had silit allies - viewed this way it is an IC method utilized by their creator malghorn in order to force them to work in tandem or suffer the consequences of their inability to show merit. From a purely mechanical perspective it adds weight and it adds purpose to a Siliti's death, if you get burned alive you're either out a month or you've done sufficient roleplay with others either thralls, students, or other Silit that they aren't going to leave you to flounder for a month and will come together to resurrect their comrade/ally.

ITT: Humans malding they can't immediately 5v1 someone who gave them a harmless nosebleed.

An open letter to those who would trust Azdromothian Agents Grace be unto you from our Lord GOD, I am Lector Trevor Turnfield of The Flaming Covenant Cohort. I write not as a representative of the Lectorate but as a concerned man of the faith to you who would join in the crusade against iniquity we faithful children of GOD perpetuate. The leader of our opposition is the deceiver, the greatest and first of the liars who would peddle falsehoods even to his own forces in order to oppose the purity of GOD's kingdom and domain; there is no lengths he will not go to act as a snake in the grass and undermine our efforts. I have spoken with Azdromoth myself and despite what his servants may try to sell you I can say with absolute certainty the lizard is remorseless for his deceptions, though he claims to possess love that did not stop him from instructing his servants to infiltrate our governments, it did not stop him from slaying dozens of innocents in Elvenesse, it did not stop him from allowing his servants to seek unity with agents of the dark. Indeed I attended the curia where the first inquisition began and watched on as in response to their crimes the servants of Azdromoth burned churches, assassinated priests, and began waging unhinged war across all Almaris. In all these decades they have not improved, they have not sought redemption, they have continued to infiltrate- From Oren, to Krugmar, to Urguan, to Balian, to Savoy and countless others they have been in the shadows playing their games and as the adage says 'fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.' I for one refused to be fooled by crocodile tears and feigned regret another second. I have watched on for fifty years as these beasts have grown more profane and desperate, how they attempt to deceive and curry favor with us after their transgressions as even when we offered Azdromoth penance and instruction on how to truly come into the creator's light we were rejected. The Lizardmen have been given every fair chance to do as GOD would will, they have been given every fair chance to act with integrity and honor, and they have been given every fair chance to distance themselves from their deceitful and wicked master but they have refused in favor of pointing blame when they themselves aim to tangle descendants in their infighting. They speak to us now of trying to honor the Horenic pact which they have broken by siding with GOD's own enemy and claiming it as 'trickery' - if your master knows it to be a trick and continues to serve then it is no trick, it is knowing blasphemy. Trust not these lizards in lambs clothing, they are wicked. Asioth is little more than a draconic aberration of Xionism, and Xionism is heresy. Check every armed man for tattoos of dragonkind, take potions of ice and steel to the lizards you see. And if you yourself reading this are a servant of Azdromoth and your will to fulfill the Horenic pact is true: Save we faithful sons of Horen the trouble and mount yourself upon the crucifix in our stead. SEREMVS * DELENDA * EST

I can't think in 10 years of any bandit RP I've had on the roads that wasn't just some ol' unenjoyable bullshit anyway. We won't lose anything with fast travels, we never have.

This is ripped directly out of mabinogi with 0 changes to the processes The things on their arm are launchers which you load alchemical crystals into to fire, that's how you attack as the alchemist class on the game. This is just 1:1 S: https://wiki.mabinogiworld.com/view/Category:Alchemy_Skills

Nice try buddy, finland is just like blinker fluid, breastplate stretchers, and baby bottle pops

I will make an alt for this

In Opposition of Iniquity Lector Turnfield’s First Confessional Preamble I am Lector Trevor Turnfield, as of beginning this recollection I have just passed my 70th year and as I continue on in service of our Lord GOD I have borne witness to the woes and wonders of shepherding my fellow descendants and beyond; the bounties of loyal servitude to GOD and the trials that accompany this loyalty. I have without a doubt witnessed the scrolls’ messages thousands of years old ring true even to this day and it is with humility I profess that without the guidance of my Lord GOD I would be among the iniquitous for it is faith alone which has sustained my hope in goodness at many points in my life. I will recount for you dear reader and my brothers and sisters in GOD’s service the things I have witnessed in my fifty years as a man of the cloth. I shall have to do so in several parts however as the good Lord has seen fit to ensure that I continue to live in interesting times. “And I am the Lord GOD without peer, and My trials are the holy trials, and My cure is the virtuous cure, and all the reliefs of the Virtue are open to the righteous forbearer.” (Virtue 3:10) I was born to Ivan and Louise Turnfield of Haense. I am grateful for the childhood I had and my mother’s insistence that I should be educated; She and my sister Eleanor taught me to read using the scrolls, particularly the Gospel of Godfrey. The labor expected of a farmer’s son is consistent and serious and I labored from my sixth birthday onward in the fields and animal pens but since my mother was a devout woman I enjoyed weekly mass as an opportunity to relax. Life was very simple until I was seventeen and made a journey to the Holy See to begin my study as an acolyte within the church. I spent two years in study, finishing a thesis on charity and working toward ordainment; initially it was my want to become a bishop or cardinal within the church in the interest of working down to establish charitable operations within the church but since I write this as a Lector of Owyn you may safely assume this never came to fruition. “But GOD’s is the eternal power, the mysterious power with no part nor piece, no lowly anatomy.” (Spirit 7:6) I was ordained at the age of nineteen, when a young man is paradoxically the most assured of his brilliance and at the height of his foolishness. Upon exiting the Old Providence Basilica newly frocked we came across a frightful specter of a young woman closing upon a playing child in the basilica yard. Coward though I was, I faced the specter with prayer, wielding a hefty lorraine; I pressed the aurum rosary against the temple of the lost soul and drove it away from the child. This was my first encounter with the forces of the deceiver in their rawest form. I was blessed enough to consecrate the Abbey of Saint Robert at the crossroads prior to the eruption of the war and it was what I believe to be a blessing that through my travels as a missionary I met the Cohort of the Flaming Covenant in their camp at Ramsfield; Paco de Mantequilla, Dante de Denesle, Isaac Jebediah, and at the time novitiate Dario de Mantequilla (also known as Dharas). The Lectors invited me to dinner and shared what little they had in the shadow of Luciensburg, the city they had taken from them; even as refugees and on the losing end of a war against demon-worshiping rats there was still the wealth of spirit among them to share with a guest. “And you shall give your fellows the abundance of the spirit, which is My Word. For the abundance of the spirit is never divided, but multiplied.” (Virtue 2:8-9) Padre Paco had made mention of his efforts to spread the faith into the nation of Yong Ping with little success, though in a meeting with then Zhu Tianrui Ren I had made progress in the repeal of anti-missionary laws within Yong Ping and had gone on to aid a convert by the name of Oijin Kato from Yong-Ping. The first major blow to my spirit came at the hands of my own self-interest, due to savoyard persecution and crucifixion the name of the faith was soured like vinegar to the Pingers and hopes of establishing friendly relations and repealing laws was dead on arrival. During this time I too began to sour on the rhetoric of the church as the dealings within canondom had become increasingly political in nature; I turned to physical exercise as a way to reckon with my anger and undertook the path of Owyn to reckon with my doubt in a centralized church. My first day upon the path I became separated from my pilgrimage party and spent several days wandering the woodland staving off starvation; it was not until I had wandered to the outskirts of providence that I was found by Padre Paco de Mantequilla who upon seeing me burst from the woodland in a confused stupor shot me with a crossbow. During my recovery I partook of day two in Du Loc wherein I was assigned to maintain a flaming altar to GOD for seven saints hours. The flesh pit of Du Loc- the gibbering living flesh of the alien heart that had been planted beneath the city burst from the earth during my watch of the altar. It took the shape of the citizens of Du Loc and opened a great maw in the heart of the city leading into an acidic pit at the bottom. My first experience with combat was with these creatures, delving with the Lectors as a Proselyte into the under loc where that wicked flesh had begun to create monsters out of corpses to defend itself. To this day I shudder to think of those shambling creatures, their boiling blood, and the blades of bone that had burst from their mangled corpses and slew a city watchman. I took up a sword to defend an injured Lector and applied Tippen’s Root to the weapon and cut open a film of flesh that had blocked the escape of the party ahead. “So I am the Most High, and in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall keep fast to your word and station, and aspire not to greatness among men, but to My glory.” (Virtue 6:8) I was not a part of the mission that saw the end of the flesh pit but during my novitatehood I was a participant in many battles against supernatural entities that had sought to target Du Loc. None serve as a better example of the typical Du Locian problem than the metallic vessel that fell from a tear in reality that contained a warrior in strange armor; following shortly after him came down a strange flying insectoid creature that shot Lector Dharas with lightning born from a oddly shaped staff, shortly following this a second portal tore itself open; slaying a flying bird and birthing a bipedal crab demanding wergild for a slight; I kicked him back into the portal and pulled Dharas’ unconscious form away from the metallic vessel the dying warrior landed in before it exploded, sealing the portals behind. In retrospect I understand this tale is farfetched and my expectation of what battles are to be expected against iniquity is deeply skewed by the many unusual battles I have partaken in. What sealed my decision to join the Lectorate was the aid offered to me by two members to traverse into the dark swamps between Yong Ping and Vortice when a cannibal tribesman ambushed me during a personal sabbatical and stole from me a rosary gifted to me by my mother. Danzen and Dharas were with me, serving as my battle brothers in an effort to reclaim this gift. While in the swamp I encountered another poltergeist amidst the portion of the swamp infected by the tomblands, a crackadonk, and finally the Rougaroux I had written about in a report titled: “A Horror Hunting the Faithful.” Which can be found in the owynist archives. The trials of the swamps brought me new clarity and purpose; a keen understanding of the Lectorate and my role as a shepherd of GOD. It was not enough to dispense wisdom unto the flock for wisdom offered little to men torn to pieces by werebeasts and vampires. It was the role of the shepherd to bear the crook and the sword; to fight the wolves sent by the jealous deceiver to rip them away from GOD’s pastures. “And you shall be without pretense or conceit, for before the mountain, the ant and the aurochs are equally small.” (Virtue 7:7) Taking the mantle of a Lector came with certain challenges, I elected to abandon the facade of greater sophistication as it was conceit- I spoke as I would on the farm again and allowed myself to be what I am; the son of a farmer who took up GOD’s word and steel to defend my parish. I spent my earlier years among the Lectorate in transit, I’m drawn to the outdoors fairly regularly but discovered the Hexer lodge of Savoy when Dharas joined them for a hunt; I should preface that there are few organizations I loath so much as Hexers so take my recollection with a grain of salt for I cannot be certain if my memory has not been twisted toward representing them more fouly than they truly were. After escorting Dharas I had a brief conversation with an elder hexer whom I regarded as sour and conceited for his supposed greater understanding of the world. When during their hunt Dharas was injured they did not send for us, my brother’s legs were crushed and amputated by a crowdrake due to the Hexer’s own failing in planning and they did little else beside cauterize his legs and toss him outside the tent to work on their own; I carried my injured brother in a harness upon my back until his legs were capable of carrying him again. Despite access to mutations themselves and greater forms of healing alchemy by their own profession the Hexers hoarded their knowledge in favor of turning a profit hunting disruptive monsters with no interest in morality or preserving secular lives; I find them to be as distasteful as the magi women they surrounded themselves with. “So I find that you seek impossible knowledge not for the good of your fellows, or precious wisdom, but in the desire of power.” (Spirit 7:11) Alchemy and Its charitable applications have always been a purview of the Lectorate, Danzen is the most talented doctor I have ever seen and were it not for his quick intervention when I suffered a chest injury I would not be here today; it was Danzen whom during a training session had a flash of inspiration amidst the vampiric outbreak for an alchemical cure to the ailment; I watched with curiosity as my fellow Lectors delved into the lab in a frenzy to formulate Saint Humbert’s Quintessence and drafted up a statement later in the saint’s week to begin a clinical trial of the supposed cure. I was blessed to witness the first successful test of Saint Humbert’s Quintessence upon an orc from the Horde. I witnessed as among seizures upon the medical table his fangs shrunk into normal teeth and his vampiric claws gave way to short nails, all tests proved him a normal orc again. After a few more successful trials I sat with Dharas to make several copies and distributed them by hand. It was the development of the cure that convinced me of the worth of alchemy, in truth. I came to recognize it as a technology of great benefit so long as it was wielded with the intent to do righteous acts and oppose iniquity where it reared its head; my fellow Lector’s desire to spread this knowledge and use it to perform medical care further convinced me that it was a worthy endeavor. “And verily you must find satisfaction in service of your own realm, and the realm of all men.” (Spirit 7:15) In the interest of brevity I share one final tale from the Lectorate’s days in Du Loc before the close of this first chapter - that being the invasion of a strange magician. It was an attack on Lord Brae’s tower in which a strange boar-man of tremendous stature baring salt white fur and strange tattoos that in retrospect were more than likely thanhic in nature. This strange wizard moved through walls and doors without care, not breaking them down but rather having made no indication that solid barriers held any bearing to it at all. My brothers and I broke through the myriad doors of Brae’s tower and down the lifts to his vault, trails of strange dust left in the wake of this beast as though it had aged the world around it, a theory I developed when as we approached the final door barring us from the beast we found ourselves slowed, the world moved at a snail's pace but try as we might to fight it we couldn’t break through this strange spell; our voices and bodies slowed but my mind knew that it was restrained. All in attendance shared in this experience and when our world sped up again the boar-man had absconded. I know not what creature broke into Brae’s tower but if it has the means to read this, I should say I hold no anger for you strange swine wizard and would invite you to explain your theft, I believe there was some deeper meaning to your acquisition and invite you to share it and repent if necessary.