Slic3man

Before tearing down his own note in the same night, he'd place another to adorn where the last one hung. "I wish to purchase a Liar's Contract, a simple one with the same durability of these papers if possible."

Aberrant walks up, looking them over for a moment before placing a note alongside the poster. "How much would it cost to buy each, altogether?"

The Hochmeister catches one of these and nods, figuring some people got all-too-involved with cosplay.

Hochmeister don't give no cares about the misinformed Carrion squabble.

The Hochmeister remembers back to them holding the monsters back, several missions into the North, multiple defenses in Malinor, and the major roles into pushing them back into the North. He then places the Herendul crown back onto his head, the sword at his side as he enjoys the snowy tundra.

Blood soaked the land of each mortal race, its crimson stain a worse taint than that of Northern beasts. Absurd visions of prosperity seemed to plaster themselves to the minds of many within Anthos' maw. Nonetheless, it seemed inevitable that this ideal would spread far across even the filthiest of dirt. Most of this blood was more crimson than an apple plucked from a tree. It was quite rare to see even a drop of azure, besides that of assassination and deceit. All the while, the mountains still stood, and the plains still brought gentle wind. Mistakes were made and many were to take up their consequence; ones sought to push back the evil slipping into the lands. Swords rose and shields adorned their arms, helms firmly sitting upon their shoulders. Hammers slammed on anvils and the horses were mounted. Soon enough there would be change for the entirety of lands to see. All were at work as black ink stained cloth and steel alike in preparation for what was to come. Altogether it began to form the remembered Black Cross of the Teutonic Order, their goals expanded. The Humans fought for rebellion, some for just causes. Elves sought to militarize and defend their own lands from the grasp of the Vagatren. Dwarves lay idle, until surging forth with a single rebellion to end them all. Within that Orcs marched as clans and withstood the test of time. All was fairly well, though lurking the Vagatren was. Many times before the Order had held back the Vagatren while others faltered, and now their ideals were to expand. With the nations propped for warfare, they would soon become involved, blood to be spilled. This corruption was less-viable than that of Vagatren taint, and is to be put to an end. Crimes against the mortal races were committed, and were to be put an end. With that the Sariants mounted up alongside their Hochmeister, emitting a hymn baritone enough to shake the very mountains they inhabited. Kreuzberg shaken by the mighty outburst. Meinae veri beliae doe Orden, Mienae veri beliae doe King, Meinae veri beliae usielligen. Seeking the end of this corruption, they marched out, chanting along their way. Should you wander by these scouting Sariants, they would give you papers. Each would contain the same instruction, one of which offering you the chance to become a Sariant as well. Brethren side by side they'd continue to move on, and seek those who wish to join them in their crusade against the unjust and treacherous deeds done by those seeing themselves higher than the Creator himself. ((Below is the thread for recruitment should you take heed and join the Teutonic Order. Duenn Jurizel)) * http://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/95863-the-teutonic-order-recruiting/ *

A Sariant brings the application to the Hochmeister upon its arrival, quick to unseal it to eye its contents. Soon enough he'd begin to jot down a reply, and send it off. The letter is sent out through the birds of Kreuzberg, sent off to their proper applicant post-haste. Soon enough they would arrive and drop it at their feet before taking off back toward Kreuzberg.

Didn't know Kanye West played LotC.

The Hochmeister overlooks the lands around Kreuzberg upon leaning on its heavy stone foundation. Pondering the meaning of this call. Before long he speaks to himself, and perhaps some of the surrounding Sariants. He had only recently heard word of this, but it did not take long to process through his mind. "Sounds like a scape-goat for a nation's rebellions to end. After all, they may have done this such a long time ago should they truly have given any thought. To what end I must wonder they seek for this to go through, after their past aggressions upon many of the mortal races. Perhaps I'm not the only to think this summit is not for everyone's best interests." Spoken somewhat silently, only a few select Sariants hearing, he'd descend back into the depths of Kreuzberg. Letters were to be sent out.

The one time we did go into Oren, or other areas, it was mainly encountered with instant PVP or people running off without an allowance of a reaction so they could get more friends. To be honest, the main issue with spreading it out is the different opinions of combat. We're not so able to use our magic in PVP, so it's more of a one sided fight. As for the clique ideal, I'd have to say the same. Characters should be characters, while at the same time a common goal can be wrought up. Groups have and are formed, it's just a matter of really not trying to make it so we're considered a single group of people altogether, or an antagonist as stated before. Activity however, that can be done.

The Hochmeister eyes the single application that was sent in, beginning to unfurl its bounds and read it. Eventually he begins to reply in quick succession. All preparations are made and the letter is mailed out, its carrier bird clutching the sealed note. Soon the applicant would find the reply at their feet, with the bird returning for their daily meals.

The Hochmeister attains the current only application he received within the Elven day. Soon it'd be unsealed and Kudo would begin to write down a reply to the applicant. The letter is sent out relatively quick, an aviary bird whisping off to the single applicant. Soon enough the reply would be dropped at his feet, and the bird would return home.

The Hochmeister eyes the single application left upon his desk, before picking it up in his grasp. He'd unseal it and soon enough begin to reply with a quick jot of his feathered pen. The single bird would be sent out rather quickly, soaring off toward its proper applicant. The note would drift down to his feet against the wind. The feathered companion would soon return back to Kreuzberg without further boundaries.

Scribes turn the newest applications over to the Hochmeister, in which he'd begin to unseal them. As he surveys their contents he'd begin to jot down his own reply to each. The responses are sent out to each within even pace to one another. Birds soar over and drop their letters down to the applicants to which it would land at their feet. Afterwards they would be seen flying back to Kreuzberg at fast speeds.