HappyShackles

An official stamp in red ink, shaped like a crescent moon, is stamped onto all previous applications, signifying their acceptance.

The Brotherhood of the Pale Crescent Stamped by the King and High Pontiff Purposes The Brotherhood has four major purposes that all of it's members abide to and strive towards. They are the following. I. Study the nature of supernatural and magical foes of the Kingdom and of all mortal races in order to increase combat effectiveness against them. II. Search for, acquire, and study artifacts or items with magical properties, being certain they never fall into hands that may abuse or misuse them. III. Hunt down and eliminate or reform mages who violate the Tenets of the Pale Crescent. Mages receive a single warning before they are captured and reformed. A Mage who violates the Tenets after reformation will be hunted down and eliminated. IV. In the event of war or other international conflict, the Brotherhood will act in the interest of the Holy Kingdom of Oren first and foremost. The Tenets of the Pale Crescent I. One may never use magic in combat unless life is at stake. Magic for utility is permissible, but ostentation is strictly forbidden. II. One may never teach practical magic to one the Brotherhood does not believe deserving or competent enough. III. All who have the ability to use practical magic must make all of their personal information, including magical abilities, names, relationships and place of residence, available to the Brotherhood at will. VI. One may never practice magic with the intent of using it to do harm to innocents. V. None may share experimental or scholarly pursuits in magic to any outside of the Brotherhood. They can be shared freely within the Brotherhood. VI. One who uses practical magic and commits a capital offense in any nation, regardless of whether the offense was committed with magic, will be hunted and eliminated. VII. One who studies or practices dark magic, including necromancy must serve and live with the Brotherhood, or die. VIII. The Creator and his Church must be respected and honored during all magical practices to keep the Brotherhood free from the taint of darkness. Any who do not abide by this will be hunted down and reeducated or eliminated regardless of nation or race. Hierarchy and Prestige Prestige is a method used by the Brotherhood to record each member’s deeds and contributions to the Brotherhood. Commanders Sovereign; Grandmaster of the Brotherhood, handpicked by the previous Sovereign. Has complete autonomy over the Brotherhood, answering only to his legal superiors. Consuls; The Sovereign’s eyes, ears, and voice in his absence. All Consuls hold Sovereign authority when he is not present. Officers Commandant; The sergeant and drill instructor of all able-bodied men of the Brotherhood, including Regulators and Artificiers. Steward; The economic administrator of the Brotherhood, handling matters of trade and resources. Conciliator; May speak for the Brotherhood in matters of diplomacy when on official Brotherhood business. Regulators Those loyal and devoted who follow the path of the blade. Regulators, as well as most men of the Crescent, are scholars as well as armsmen. Artificiers Those loyal and devoted who follow the path of Magic. Artificiers are not only scholars of the supernatural, they are trained in the practical arts of magics of all kinds not considered heretical. Armsmen Executors; The third rank for members of the Order, and last before they are either placed on either the Path of the Blade or the Path of Magic by command or by their choice. Executors are expected to be considered veterans. Practicioners; The second rank for members of the Brotherhood. At this rank the member swears an oath of their sword for the Brotherhood. They must be well trusted. Initiates; The brand new members of the Brotherhood, yet to prove themselves at all. Swears no oaths. Application Name: Your first and last name. Race: Your racial origin. Age: Your age. Nationality: Your country and culture of origin. Ambition: Your reason for desiring to join the Brotherhood. Skills: Any particular skills you may have.

A notice is posted on notice boards designated for trade in various cities and towns. Auction Now Open! Yes, my friends, a brilliant product at a brilliant price; two bundles (stacks) of purely smelted iron blocks are laying in the Conclave auction house waiting to be purchased! Starting Bid Price: 2000 Minas Translates to: 31.25 Per Block 3.47 Per Ingot Buyout Price: 2500 Minas Translates to: 39.06 Per Block 4.34 Per Ingot

Lorethos, astride his destrier, trots down the path towards Abresi after having met this insect-like creature in combat. It seemed to fear magic. Perhaps soon the people of Oren will understand that the Order of the Pale Crescent is necessary to deal with such foes as these. ((I actually saw that picture on DeviantART and saved it on my computer; thought it would be awesome for an event lol))

Lorethos stands on the training ground in Sabrinsky as his men drill back and forth across the yard. He leans heavily on his stave, turning around and returning to the table where his son and cousin stand. A map on the table, with a black mark on this 'Kayrin's' holdings. "If they can not convince this Hightower to abdicate, they have promised to fly my Crescent if I aid them in taking their home back." He sighs and looks to Damien, who nods stoically, and then to Xalvador who only grunts in agreement. He smiles and places his finger on Adunia. "Their birthright will be theirs again, this I am sure of. I will make it so. The only question is, will they keep to their word?" ((Edit: Literally just noticed that this is closed, don't want to disrupt anyone, let me know if you want this deleted.))

Lorethos quickly makes a note of the amount of men he has capable of fighting and sends it off to the Lord Marshal's office via courier.

A letter arrives for Kais, a copy posted on the notice boards in both Kralta and Abresi. Dear Kais Ishikawa We have not spoken for some time, but we have unfinished business. I failed to uphold my honor in the past. You challenged me to single combat when we took Salvus, after you had been accepted into the fold of Oren, and I refused you. I was wrong in this, and I apologize. Now, for the insults we have born each other in the past, I believe it prudent that our conflict ends. Therefore, demand satisfaction. We will do single combat, Lord Ishikawa, my blade on yours, there will be no armor. When our combat is finished, my House's feud with House Ishikawa will be dissolved regardless of the victor, I hope this can be mutually achieved. I await your response. Lord Lorethos Basileus Baron of Sabrinsky Master of House Basileus

Lorethos mumbles to himself some profanity as he sits on the steps of his unfinished manor, grinding his whetstone over his sword when James arrives and informs him of the ball. He frowns. "Victory? What victory, the pointless excursion that cost us lives and wasted resources?"

I, Lord Lorethos Basileus of the House of the Pale Crescent, solemnly swear, before the eyes of the creator and my fellow countrymen, to fulfill all obligations to my venerate liege, and carry out his bidding with dignity and grace, bestowing my life and that of my kin’s to his cause, to retain a capable force worthy to defend the populace of our most divine dominion, and to decimate any enemies that threaten the Kingdom of Oren’s inviolability and security.

((Are these letters publicly posted or sent directly to the King?))

The House of the Moon Returns Deep in the forests outside of Kralta, in the lands ruled by the Carrion Kings, a campfire burns. "Ah- He ain't worth 'er own weight in fackin' dirt," one of the outlaws sputters sloppily as another shoves a boy, black of hair with eyes of piercing forest green, to his knees before the rest of the group. The boy looks down at the ground, bruised and cut from the scuffle he'd had on the road when they'd taken him. The outlaws, mostly dawned in chainmail they'd pillaged in the few successful raids on Flotsam and Kralta they'd had. The leader of the group, a relatively short man with filfthy blonde hair and rotted teeth, approaches the boy. "Sa wha's yer name, boy?" The boy does not respond. His eyes remain locked on the ground. "I said wha's yer name!" The boy proceeds to spit on the man's feet, quickly recieving an armored knee to the chin. He cries out, falling flat on his back and spitting blood onto the dirt. Suddenly, from what seemed like out of nowhere, the leader began to gag. He felll to his knees, clawing at his throat, before turning to his men to reveal the arrow that had lodged itself in his throat. He let out one last gargle before collapsing, the outlaws staring in bewilderment and fury at their leader's demise. Then came the voice. Wicked in it's tone, but strong. "Thrash, Mordyn!" One of the outlaws turns to the voice. "**** this! They're hiding in the woods, let's jus' kill the brat and **** em-" Suddenly, two figures charge from behind the group of outlaws facing the source of the voice. One, an orc of immense stature, dawned in full plate armor besides his lack of helm and holding a massive battleaxe. The other, a human also in full plate, his face concealed, holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The bandits, numbering seven with their leader dead, have little time to react before the Orc takes hold of the nearest bandit's head and plunges his viscious tusks into the man's throat, tearing the flesh free. The man screams just a bit louder than the Knight's victim, who finds himself with a sword through his back between his ribs. The bandits, still outnumbering the two with five against them, retaliate. One of them had prepared his sling while his comrades were slaughtered, and launched a stone straight for the Knight. It bounced of the Knight's helm, denting it and causing him to stumble back just in time for one of the bandit's companions to land a heavy blow with his warhammer on the Knight's chest. The Knight lets out a deep breath, the air being knocked out of him, and falls back against a tree, raising his shield to defend against the second bandit's cutlass which rings off harmlessly, Just as the remaining two bandits were about to strike at the Orc, they heard a gutteral scream from behind them. All of the remaining bandits turn foolishly to see their slinger with a blade through his throat, the assailant wearing the same black hair and deep forest green eyes as their captive, though one of this new man's eyes had a viscious scar over it, pale with blindness. Their captive was being freed by another man; this man with dark brown hair and green eyes though of no remarkable resemblence to the other two. Their captive stood up, taking the sword that was offered him by the Housecarl that had freed him and entering an offensive stance. The four remaining bandits, realizing that they were now outnumbered and underarmed, turned back to back to the assailants. One of them, facing the Housecarl, captive and one-eyed man, spoke. "We dan't want na trouble!" He says. "We'll go peaceful-like, ya know, we promise!" "I'm afraid you won't," the one eye'd man responds. The orc laughs a gutteral, ominous, haunting laugh and the Housecarl whom had freed their captive smiles only slightly. Their captive turns his sword and lunges suddenly, his blade clashing with one of the bandit's while the one eyed man strikes at the other. The Knight's blade flurries out towards the third, and the Orc's axe is brought down heavily on the last man. The ground now soaked in blood and littered with corpses, a sixth man, with a woman of amber hair and blue eyes, exit the brush and enter the clearing, both of the newcomers dressed in clearly very noble clothing. The Housecarl pokes one of the corpses with his foot. "That wasn't so hard, Lorethos." The one eyed man wipes the blood on his sword off on one of the bandit's tunics and speaks, "No, they weren't too smart about it. Should've given up right away, right Thrash?" The Orc grunts, his mouth dripping with blood from his previous kill. The orc punches the Knight softly on the shoulder, the Knight grunting behind the helm. He pulls up his visor to reveal a young man's face. Of the entire group, the one-eyed man is the oldest at around fifty. The Knight looks to the captive, who had slid down to the base of a tree trunk, being tended by the woman in noble clothing. "Are you alright, Damien?" "My son has dealt with worse than bandits." Lorethos says, walking over and kneeling beside his son, kissing his wife softly on her cheek. "How were the bushes, Desi?" "Fine as always, dear." She smiles lightly as she tends their bleeding son, who only laughs awkwardly at his parent's affection. The Housecarl, who had been searching the corpses, taking their coin and other valuables, stood finally and looked to the nobly-dressed man. "You alright, uncle Sig?" The nobleman shrugs, poking about with his jeweled sceptre, seeming in his own little world. Sigismund was clearly the closest in age to Lorethos. "I wasn't the one doing the fighting." The Housecarl mumbles, "Well, we know that... What about you, Mordyn?" The Knight had been removing his chestplate, dented from the warhammer, sitting against a tree, and now lifted his shirt to reveal a nasty bruise the size of a fist in the middle of his chest. "I'll be fine..." He murmurs. Sigismund notes the Knight's peril and approaches him, offering a hand. "James, help me." The Housecarl, James, nods and approaches the Knight, helping him to his feet. Thrash stands still, still covered in blood, not bothering to make himself presentable. Lorethos, helping his son to his feet, turns to the group. "Back to Kralta," he says, Sigismund and James proceeding to help guide Mordyn back through the brush to the road. Desiderata and her son exit after them, Thrash picking up Mordyn's chestplate with one hand and clipping his axe back across his back. He pounds his chest with his free fist at Lorethos, who does so back, and the two depart from the bloody scene. Cast: (In Order of Appearance) LemonDropzz as Lord Damien Basileus (The Quiet Heir) ryanb99 as Thrash (An Orc That Thrashes) Ghrotto as Ser Mordyn Damaske (A Knightly Knight) HappyShackles as Lord Lorethos Basileus (The One-Eyed Lord) thecrazycoes as James Belarus (The Loveable Housecarl) ImmaHorseRidda as Lady Desiderata Basileus (A Sophisticated Lady) Torranes as Sigismund of Reuven (The Scholarly Uncle)

Finally, a clear message. I hope no one who has cybered outside of the forums or server takes this offensively. We just don't want to be sued or something.

((Language like openly on the forums should be edited out or censored. Also not very medieval.))

((Soon as someone informs Lorethos that Holm has nothing, Lorethos will stop planning to pillage and/or invade. I will not metagame this situation. Frankly, if Izier's IC response was less douchy Lorethos wouldn't be planning to attack. Either way, Lorethos won't go away at this point until he believes he's been fully compensated by Holm or someone else. And since Holm is the one he believes took all the armor, it'll be hard to convince him otherwise. You could always make a promise to be indebted to Lorethos.))

There is a silent and blackened mumble of something horrid and ridiculous. A man with a black cap and eyepatch, and a black trenchcoat, eyes Anri's ring from the shadows. Upon seeing Vorinell and Regaki approach her, he decides against approaching. His breath is heavy and full of anguish. Kael the Liar was not a Liar anymore. And the weight of honesty and even the smallest speck of honor had crushed him. He had nothing left. Not his daughters or LeTen or Elysia or Moxxi or Keya. But he had Anri. He loved his fox still, and he would fall under the weight of honesty for the sake of her safety. Even if that safety meant that for now, he would have to let her find someone that might touch her with gentleness that he would never be capable of. But Kael was far too selfish to let that be. He stared, then. He was done with slaves and murder and rape and theft. One of his victims even stood there, forgiving Anri for letting Kael do what he did. But now Kael would live with his fox soon, together and in love again. Or in something like that. He whispered something as he stared at her. Five curl out of his voice, and the word is indistinct but deductible. "Sorry..." Kael steps out into the light. "She's talkin' bout when ye let me rape 'er."

((This thread can be locked, my point (to clarify what actually happened) has been made.))

(('Cheating' as you perceive it does not nullify roleplay. If something happens to you, for example if someone without a VA starts to torture you, you can't stop the RP and say 'Hey you don't have a VA, let me go.' That makes no sense RP-wise.))

((I was found to have broken the rules. That doesn't nullify the event, it still happened how it did. I wouldn't make this post if I didn't hear you and your friends were saying you permakilled Lorethos in the duel that Lorethos technically won, and you have no recollection of, which is also a violation of the rules.))

Steel against steel and blood spit on blood. Lorethos Basileus and Axl Elendil clashed against eachother at Lorethos' challenge. To Lorethos, Axl's challenge to His Imperial Majesty Godfrey over the sentence of Ambrose should be amounted to treason, as well as his persistence after his defeat that the elf was innocent. Lorethos, his chest slashed, gripped Axl's wrist as he held his sword and tore it form his grasp, holding it upward. He spit blood at Axl as they clashed again, and Artorus attempted to injure Lorethos with his dirk. The duel continued with Axl's man, Patrik, taunting Count Basileus during the duel, and drawing a bow and knocking an arrow at him, aiming for his knee. As Lorethos found himself injured and on the ground, he gathered what energy he could and flung a stone at Axl with the years of arcane training under Cataris and his personal meditation. Axl, having been wounded badly in his gut by his own sword that Lorethos had disarmed him of, was struck in the wound. Axl then claimed the duel was null because Lorethos had used magic, where Lorethos claimed that Axl's use of chain mail while he himself had none was dishonorable and warranted his disqualification. Lorethos refused to hand the sword back to Axl, and Axl approached him, swinging a foot to strike his gut. Lorethos gripped Axl's foot as it struck him in the gut, and shoved him back with it, launching himself forward and slashing the blade across Axl's throat with a flourish. Lorethos turned on the man with the bow and ran swiftly at him next, obviously in great pain and exhaustion, now fueled only by adrenaline as an arrow runs through he shoulder. He screams as the sword he wields plunges into Patrik's heart. He tore the blade out, and collapsed, unconscious from exhaustion, pain and bloodloss. Lorethos' wounds and exertion will have him incapacitated for several weeks. ((Lorethos Basileus is not dead. Regardless of the fact I was banned, the roleplay did happen. Axl and Patrik have no recollection of the duel, and Lorethos has Axl and Patrik's weapons/armor ICly. Any who claim Lorethos is dead is either lying ICly (which is fine) or powergaming (which is not.) )) ((Edit: This was not meant to be an exciting or thrilling story~ It's just to clarify what actually happened :3 ))

Lorethos' hilt-and-half gleams gloriously in the light of the blistering sun, the pommel in the shape or a crescent moon. He grips it tight, Allister, Indorill, Trevor, Velarin, Raewrynn, Lerin and Jayden on their own steeds behind Lorethos' silver stallion. His face is determined. He will capture this criminal, this heretical monster and murderer. And friend... And this time, no one is going to stop his execution.

((I sense an epic Lorethos/Cataris duel in the makings.))

((The robes don't only not have magical properties. According to Cataris, they're obliterated.))

Accepted, as Bastard of our Blood. Bastards bare the name Garathor instead of Basileus.