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1,014 Godly


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    A very nice and kind individual worthy of respect
  • Birthday 12/31/1997

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    I cannot the government will find me

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    In some dorm or other

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  1. Aneir’in Ithelanen signs on the doted line.
  2. The brother of the Lupin scowls upon his hearing of the proclamation, as always deeply unsettled by the liberties taken by the Hawk when iterating his propaganda. “The hubris of this wretched degenerate reveals his ignorance, to disregard our culture and insist us kin to an obese mud-skinned devil. A dimwitted slag who remained glued to the hips of the tyrant King Malin till his last is no blooded kin of mine. Don’t presume yourself to be my brother, and don’t presume yourself to be my blood. Speak of the Aldersfolk with the respect they earn; or not at all. Your Princes lead you to ruin; your forefathers played cuckolds to a tyrant, you know this better than most. You’ve already played one once to my brother. Only once you’ve finished ravaging the dead corpse of your precious dominion can there ever be hope for the future. So stop writhing in filth with the pigs and staring into muddy puddles. Realize what you have and who you are. This is a settlement for Elvish folk to live and propagate; to start anew. It is not for old men to demand back their power and privilege from the folk who dare live there. This gathering is for all the peoples of Elvenesse who worship the gods and live by their code; nothing more and nothing less.”
  3. Casimir wipes his nose with a rough handkerchief, having just finished a re-penning of the once great document. “Formatted right and proper for a new generation.”
  4. After ambling towards the clerk with the proper mood music in tow; the ginger youth tired after a long journey had then recited his answers before the decrepit administrator in near unison; very eager to get it over with. “My name is Casimir, I come from Lochlorn. My skin be quite pale; for autumn I yearn. I can read real good, my mommy told me I could, and I ain’t got no whelps to my name. As for my word, whatever it’s worth. If it’s broken I’m yours to do as you like. Can even bury me quick, however you see fit. Now oh please, can oy frickin’ leave?” You’re all set. I’ll have this filed away to the Prelate at once. He’s a sleepy cardinal, about to hit his centennial. Give him a few days. Casimir did then nod in return; stringing his lute over his shoulder and shoving off to find a stiff drink and lodgings.
  5. Bl. Everard the Wise sings the Pontiff’s praise to all who would harken to him in the afterlife. The mood music being once again on point.
  6. <when the rules are a joke <when the rules actually work O_o @Telanir you mad man, you solved our pvp goon problem with a single swing of your sword.
  7. Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.
  8. WACKO

    Dissolution of Horen

    Casimir nods. "They've figured out how genealogy works. Good onnem, they're learning."
  9. A lowly servant to the city’s governor; the most shrewd and illusive Benda Chivay scribes the event in much detail. Strange visitors with incredibly odd accents and titles. They were the ilk of the attempted-usurper Polycarp whom his dearest and most honorably seclusive master had indulged and protected and now had begun catering. He wondered then if his liege would finally send Ravens to the capital to inform the Horosid Emperor. To call the banners and face them as Audemar had done at Ronda to van der Linde. Either way; he remained nauseous for the entire celebration, his only solace the ale in his cup. He felt sorry for the lad upon the altar, a poor hostage they had found for the well known Johannian Infanta.
  10. Aneirin Ithelanen sneers at the Malinite traditions. “A Caerme’onn ploy no doubt; the harem must truly be running dry to attempt such degenerative measure.”
  11. WACKO

    Broken Bottle

    Stefan Morovic learns of the death from a spare soldier aboard the deck of a ship. Halting in his preparations and letting a few of the other seamen continue on with rigging the mainsail for a long voyage. ”So that nation of murdering psychopaths finally butchered a man who deserved it in full. A proper traitor, and a deserter at that. Good bloody riddance.” he says, with a shake his head and a small chuckle to indicate his brief fit of humor, thereafter returning to his labour.
  12. “Good bull mood music makes all the difference, he’s the Pontiff we’ve deserved. The ears of god’s faithful bleed no longer.” a skeletal High Pontiff Everard II mentions, watching from the sidelines, offering a fat salute to the Pontiff Daniel Haas.
  13. Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.
  14. Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.
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