seannie

"They have lived by the blade, and now they shall perish by the blade - they would have done the same to us. Worry not for the death throes of those to be vanquished, for they will spill out every falsehood under God to save themselves." Captain Tiber remarked to his fellows in the Covenant, on march through the Middelander countryside to raze yet another castle.

"From paramount to rubble - this chapter in the Tapestry closes upon the Midlands now. Maybe next time they'll have better luck, and wit." Tiber the Elf remarks upon the recent developments to his fellow Aaunites.

From upon the Fields of Middelan, Tiber had set his gaze upon the devastation of Veletz - plumes of smoke dotting the landscape, castles ruined, hamlets laid to waste. The Elf of nigh seven centuries took another drag on his cigarette, his helm uncharacteristically removed in doing so and puffed out the smoke into the open sky. He had seen these sights countless times before, so much so that the memories now blended together in an addled amalgamation of what his mind struggled to conjure up in his aging. As he tapped away the ash, his pondering strayed; What was he fighting for? Ultimately, the lives of his human compatriots, their tribulations, ambitions, determination, meant little to the Elder Elf, for he would outlive them well over a couple more centuries - they were like children toying with flames they had no control over, like every other before them. Tiber had once cautioned that Mankind had degraded far too much to be salvaged, but, once in a while, stars align, and the passion of Mankind was revived. This is what endeared the Elf to these wildly ambitious beings, who so threw themselves into life with such reckless abandonment, and sought to seize their own destinies with unmatched ferocity, this is what kept the Elf in close ranks with the race of Men, instead of his lackluster brethren. A smile broke then as he scrubbed away his finished cigarette into the ruined stoneworks of Drusco beneath him, flicking it off into the chasm below. With such processes of war having become a routine to him now, Tiber took up the BANNERS OF THE GRYPHON AND THE YACHTMEN, slaying his way through those who would hinder the birth of a new order. The possibilities to emerge from this war, what could be, what is to be, were endless, Aevos, and thus the world would be reshaped in a new image dictated by the victors. These events flared the embers of curiosity within the Elf and thus the purpose of his existence. He had no desire to idle away, and since took up the sword in order to extend the Tapestry with new chapters of history. Having now concluded his time sufficiently wasted in mediation, Tiber picked himself up, brushed away the debris that caught onto his uniform, and made his way to his horse - riding off to regroup with General Ireheart and General Mareno as they pushed deeper into the territories of Veletz. Another year, another battle, another victory - one step closer to a new world.

Waldemar the Waldenian Ultranationalist throws his hands up celebration of the rapidly approaching Waldenia, the decrepit old man shouting, "GOTT SHITZ ON DEN KAIZER!"

BOUNTY: THE F E R O C I O U S MANTICORE LOCATION: Kingdom of Aaun, Langkette Mountains DESCRIPTION: Following the successful subjugation of the hillside cavern network of goblins within the Crownlands of Aaun, the lands were subsequently beset by a Manticore - who had, presumably until now, been feeding on the goblins to satiate its hunger, causing this chain of events throughout the Crownlands. Though, with the goblins now taken care of, the Manticore has since moved onto the local livestock of the Whitespire farmsteads, straying too close to the Royal Capital, and thus being engaged by several Ferrum-ranked Adventurers in conjunction with the City Watch, causing it to flee. The Manticore has since flown northward following this engagement, with its den assumed to be in the Mountains of Langkette. The beast has been injured already by a Templar of Malchediael, but was last seen still combat-able. DIFFICULTY: Aurum Rank+ Given the ferocity, size and cunning of the Manticore, the Bounty has been designated to be Aurum. Should the Manticore be caught within its Den, its agility may be hindered significantly to lessen its dangerous capabilities. Maw, claws, and snake's tail are to be accounted for during engagement. Ferrum and Copper ranked Adventurers may attend, given that they are in party with an Aurum ranker. The Guild recognizes the lacking of Aurum-ranked Adventurers, but has designated currently Ferrum-ranked Adventurers for promotions upon assembly of the Adventurers for this Bounty. As always, be careful of developments outside of Bounty parameters during subjugation. RECOMMENDATION: +8 Adventurers (1 Aurum-rank Minimum Required) Minimum Daemonsteel Weaponry and Armor Piercing ranged weaponry Adventuring Kit (Satchel, Rope, Fire Starter, Bedroll, Lantern, Rations) Medical Kit (Bandages, Splints, Alcohol, Herbs) Weighted Nets ISSUER: Johannes von Alstreim, GUILDMASTER OF THE ADVENTURERS REWARD: 280 Minae Spoils of Battle Further rewards are to be provided if Adventurers are able to retrieve the two prized pigs stolen by the Manticore - if not yet eaten. INSTRUCTIONS: To claim this Bounty, begin the registry process with the Guild Clerks at Headquarters located in Whitespire, Aaun, the Black Rose Inn - further instructions shall be given at such time. ----------- JOIN THE PARADISIAN ADVENTURER’S GUILD TO PARTICIPATE:

With the Principality of Stassion razed to the ground, Tiber now looks onward to the Castle of Drusco upon the horizon, "Another year, another castle." the Elf thought aloud, with nonchalance.

Tiber, a long forgotten Elf of the Holy Princedom of Malinor, came upon the studies of the Bishop Andrikev within the library of St. Godwin's Society to great acclaim, for the scholarly musings of Man had always amused him. In particular, the topic of Oren was always of interest to the Elf, his own life having been intertwined with its many iterations throughout his centuries of life. Whereas his long life had been one of paced existence and meditation, the Humans shone bright like an expiring firework, cresting to a spectacular explosion that dazzles everyone, an imagery represented as Oren - for better or worse. However, the Elf no longer saw any such passion left in the degrading Realms of Man, and those with a modicum of this ambition were too inept to propagate effectively. The Humans of today seem more content with their own petty squabbling, and paranoia of one another, than that of brotherly unity that so hallmarked their Eras. A profound tragedy, for disunity was the tool of the Great Deceiver against the Four Brothers - perhaps voidal tendrils have reached out once more to render nations apart in a bid to lay the groundwork for further Ibleesian plotting, another great continental cataclysm, one more grand exodus to undergo. Though, united or not, Mankind had always worked its best to ruin one another regardless, and as the author remarked, imperial peace was the exception, not the rule. Tiber shrugged at that, enjoying another soothing sip of Shieming tea as he continued reading the Orenian thesis, perhaps in time and experience his racial cousins would figure out a method of existence that does not cause so much wanton grief. Nevertheless, the Elf concluded his pondering knowing the status quo was ineffective for the entirety of Aevos, it had become increasingly obvious to many that drastic change has to be made, less the cycle of violence is repeated, and maybe it need not be done in the Orenian sense, but something more - the Descendants do not have to be so tied down by their history as to repeat the formation of yet another Empire. However, what ever supranational order the King of Haense has planned for the post-war scenario on Aevos was surely not going to last as it is now - the Grand Covenant has to reform into something more, less they all allow it to break apart once ambitions no longer align and thus repeating the cycle of disaster in due time. Overlooking the Silver Sea now, Tiber had finishes both his tea and the thesis, he offered his thoughtful thanks to the Bishop Andrikev for stimulating his aging mind like so, and continued on with his day.

"From swords to ploughshares." remarked Captain Tiber of Whitespire, now overwatching the transformation of Stassion into a God fearing loyalist stronghold for the Reformed Kingdom of Aaun. "These lands shall make for some fine farmlands."

An exhausted Tiber finally sat himself down upon the rubbles of the Stassion castle, overlooking the raging fires of the city below. He sighs wearily as his helm is removed - revealing his overly scarred visage - another settlement burned to the ground. From his youth in Aegis, to now in Aevos, the Elf thought to himself the hardships he has had endured over the centuries. The destructions of continents, scouring of Kingdoms, crumbling Empires - were the Descendants so doomed by the Curse of Iblees that they are fated to slaughter each other till infinity? Even though he can barely recall them now, his family had perished in both Aegis and Anthos, leaving the then nameless Elf to wander the earth aimlessly - observing the passage of time somberly, which now brought him to the razing of Stassion, just another footnote in history. Greater threats gathered around the Descendants, yet their shortsightedness resulted only in petty squabbles ultimately. What is a nation lost here and there to war, when entire continents seem to be rendered asunder routinely? What use was the Elf involving himself in such trivial matters? Was the Curse of Iblees truly permanent? Nevertheless, Tiber found himself content in his short-lived friend's triumphing, taking a drag on his cigarette then as he pondered over the Flames of Stassions. King John had showed him remarkable hospitality, and the Elf was dedicated in repaying such.

We must form the empire of aevos and put aeldin to the sword inshallah who shall receive enlightenment next

A shocked Tiber looks up to the spontaneously manifested super Stassion, "Orcish shamanism is no joke, first they portal in a greenskin horde from another dimension, now they can also do the same with castles! Ain't never seen shit like this before." the venerable Elf states, bewildered.

Envelopes, containing the Guild's response within, are stamped with the Sigil of Guildmaster Alstreim and sent back by way of homing pigeons to the aspiring Adventurers. Locate your nearest aviary to read the contents. All applicants approved for further induction. @Balthasar CURRENTLY AVAILABLE BOUNTY:

BOUNTY: Feral Goblin Pack LOCATION: Kingdom of Aaun, Crownlands DESCRIPTION: Feral Goblins, Greenskins that have reverted back to their savage primitivity of the Curse of Iblees, forsaking all civilization, even their own Krug’mar. Such creatures have had reported sightings throughout the Crownlands of the Aaunic Kingdom, specifically from the Hamlet of Applecromby, wherein farmers bringing their harvest to the Royal Capital have been waylaid along the highway, their remains showing hallmark signs of goblinoid intrusions. Although it is currently hypothesized that the ongoing war between the Grand Covenant and the League of Veletz - of which Aaun is included - have allowed these feral goblins to congregate and take advantage of the chaos, further reports of a greater danger, not yet verified, are rumored to have given these goblins a further stirring. As it stands, the undergarrisoned Crownlands of Aaun has contracted the Adventurer’s Guild to supplement the local constabulary, and deal with the matter itself whilst the Royal Army is deployed elsewhere. DIFFICULTY: Ferrum Rank+ Given the erratic nature of feral goblins, and the possibility of a superior creature having gathered them into a pack, the Guild Clerks have designated this bounty Ferrum, as opposed to the goblin’s current designation as a Copper rank creature by the Guild. Copper ranked Adventurers may attend, given that they accompany a Ferrum ranker. RECOMMENDATION: +5 Adventurers (1 Ferrum-rank Minimum Required) Minimum Ferrum Weaponry and Armor Adventuring Kit (Satchel, Rope, Fire Starter, Bedroll, Lantern, Rations) Medical Kit (Bandages, Splints, Alcohol, Herbs) ISSUER: Sir Fragglesworth II, Representative of the Constabulary REWARD: 200 Minae Spoils of Battle INSTRUCTIONS: To claim this Bounty, begin the registry process with the Guild Clerks at Headquarters located in Whitespire, Aaun, the Black Rose Inn - further instructions shall be given at such time. ----------- JOIN THE PARADISIAN ADVENTURER’S GUILD TO PARTICIPATE [Announcement will go out in the discord server for the event schedule time] https://discord.gg/FqDnX83v

Tiber, an Aaunite infanteer on march throughout the jungles of Balian reminisces on the green horrors he had to endure, himself being an Elf more inclined to the temperance of mild Heartlandic weather, "One day it started raining and it didn't quit for 4 months we've been through every kind of rain there is a little bit of stinging rain and big ol' fat rain rain that flew in sideways and sometimes rain seemed to come straight up from underneath."

The triumphant Aaunites of the Battle of the Crimson Banks return to Whitespire with great acclamation, having first just bested the forces of Veletz with the fellow allies of the Covenant, and secondly their King taking further charge, enacting great reforms for the Kingdom - rejuvenating the realm. They shout, "LONG LIVE KING JOHN, TANDEM TRIUMPHANS!"

Envelopes, containing the Guild's response within, are stamped with the Sigil of Guildmaster Alstreim and sent back by way of homing pigeons to the aspiring Adventurers. Locate your nearest aviary to read the contents. All applicants approved for further induction. @Balthasar

Watchman Tiber of Whitespire begs his sergeant for a leave of absence in the coming years, wishing to take a vacation and go sightseeing the ruins of Veletz once the Covenant bulldozes through it. He is promptly denied such and is instead forced into the meatshield vanguard division of the army. The Watchman curses his luck.

"Aim for the bushes?" Watchman Hans asked the Jazloviecki @Olox_ to his side atop the palatial Hand of Horen, the Whitespire of Aaun. They fist bump and jump off together to avoid ever having to talk to a Veletzer.

Hans of Whitespire poured a cold one over for Vasili, having witnessed the man's glorious sacrifice to bypass the Veletzian defenses, and thusly allow victory for the Covenant. Hans vows to himself that one day, he'd be as cool as Vasili.

A thoroughly unamused Alstion threw away the declaration at the courier who delivered it, yelling back, "Tell my grandson not to parley with our enemies!"

Portrayed over an array of documentation and maps within the halls of Brandthof, the elderly King of Aaun perused his opportunities carefully - eventually complaining to his accompaniments, "It seems that the Miracle of the Petra, in which God forced our arms to do no harm to one another, has backfired. Now this rump-state fools itself into believing it shall have reconciliation. I think not!" the Alstion exclaimed, an unexpected bout of passion for his age, propelling him into a rambling tangent, "Suffer not the heretics and their wile ways - tongues of the Great Deceiver they have, for they shall do their best to manipulate themselves into being viewed as the downtrodden, unbefitting of our righteous rage unto them, alas, we Crusaders clarified by the Light of God, cannot be so easily swayed." The Alstion slams a fist onto the table in emphasis, the shock of which displacing many items, "There must be an extermination of the Adrian, nay, Renatian, way of life, from root and stem for their persistent assaults unto the faith. Our most Holy Church must reaffirm the Godfreyist Crusade upon the ascension of the new Vicar of God, lest we allow ourselves to idle away." With this, Charles Alstion concludes with the battlecry of the Crusade; "Adria Delenda Est."

"THE ARMISTICE BROKEN, OUR TERMS FULFILLED, YET CANONDOM REFUSES TO PARLAY WITH THE ANATHEMA, DEATH IS HIS PENANCE, THUS WAR MUST RESUME - NOW WITH THE FULL MIGHT OF CANONDOM. I WILL LIBERATE THE OYASHI TO REPAY THE GRIEVIOUS SLIGHT I LEVIED UPON THEIR PEOPLE, OR COMMIT SUDOKU IF FAILED TO DO SO. THIS IS THE GOFREYIST CRUSADE, GOD THE GREATEST" CHARLIE CHARLES ALSTION RAVES ALOUD WITHIN THE WAR COUNCIL OF AAUN, GESTURING WILDLY ABOUT