Treshure

Markus is unsure of what claimant to support!

A cool breeze ran between two lone elves upon the bridge. Despite the sunny disposition of Elvenesse’s warm forests, their minds were filled with death. Just an elven week prior, Thexan Ithelanen’s challenge had been answered by the Silver City. There stood Kaius Visaj; alone in a foreign country, with none by his side. “Have you prayed to your Gods?” Thexan passively asked, trying to ignore the presence of the massive crowd to their rear. Kaius dipped his head in affirmation. The Ithelanen turned towards the gatehouse-turned arena, undoing the straps of his helm. “And so it begins.” - Thexan’s blade ripped across Kaius’ breast, bearing into his plate and freeing the flesh from his chest. With a cry of manic ecstasy, the high elf crumpled to the floor. He knelt beside the dying ‘aheral, watching the stars fade from his iris. Thexan looked down onto the dead elf. “So that I may free your head from your shoulders,” he echoed in cruel mockery. With a swipe of his blade, it was Kaius’ head that was freed - thrown upon the marble stone for Elvenesse to bear witness. A priest of the druidic faith flanked the victor’s side. “Do you wish to be present for the rituals?” he asked, glancing towards the sunken corpse. Undoubtedly, it involved the use of several organs. Thexan shook his head. “I have a letter to write.” - A missive is sent to Haelun’or. “I have killed the champion of Visaj. I have freed his head and spilt his silver blood on the stones of Elvenesse. Come and see. I have sewn his blood into my roots, as I have promised long ago. Come and see. I have strung his mangled corpse amongst the trees. I have seen his ichor - the fabled silver blood is as red and thick as mine. You may have your dead, but first you must retrieve it. I soon will march on your gates. I will tear every stone from your wretched walls and return your citadel to the dirt. I will leave you alive - only to remember the cost of leaving your ivory prison. But before I arrive, come and see.” Thexan Ithelanen

In my youth, I was prescripted alongside my brother to fight in the wars risen for Humanity. A war at the time that was entirely necessary. He lost his life, and I my leg. I stand with many other kin - injured by the winds of war, and entirely aware of the cost to wage it. And yet it seems that toll has been lost by this age. The recent conflict against the Elven Union has shown our ease to march and suffer for causes we know not. With little known aggression towards Imperial lands, we summon men from their homes and fields - to don armor in lands foreign, and to suffer mortal wounds at the hands of an enemy that posed no threat. As an Empire lives, war has been its necessary fuel. This is no more criticism than a fact of life. But there are other battles to wage, and other ways to feed the dominion of Man. When I had penned word against the ‘Imperial Fascist League’, I warned that I would form opposition if the trend had continued. With this needless campaign, it has. Our veterans wilt, Our wars grow, and Our Empire is besmirched on the absence of merit. Parliament wanes as the will of those who built it fade and the people’s voice dampen. The internal focus of our Empire remains neglected. This ends now. Thus I do declare, THE IMPERIAL PACIFIST PARTY, to prioritize the internal success of the Empire and deter needless conflicts that do not threaten the sanctity of Our Imperial union. Gwyn **Detailed document of party & registry coming soon.

A missive is sent to Haelun’or. The declarations of hegemony, “purity”, and dominance from the silver city become increasingly annoying. It is no well kept secret to the realm that you, silver elves, render your strength from Imperial allies. Without them, you would stow away wordlessly within your citadels – as you have for centuries prior. Let the record then show. My name is Thexan Ithelanen – son to Valkorion and favored blood of Kairn the Conqueror. I have written the many documents that have embarrassed this war effort throughout the elven weeks. I’ve received little parry. The blood of silver is weak. I challenge you to a duel within the woods – that whosoever falls, the monks shall not revive. Let us settle what blood reigns stronger. Bring one of equal stature to mine so that I may slay him and sow his blood among my roots. You have one elven week to reply. Thexan Ithelanen

whatever you do, do not rep this post.

now you have more time to focus on middle school good job

Dearest Robert, I see now that in my aging breath, the people are not the same as you and I. These streets and corners were a different love ten years past. I once carried a sword, and you a spear; nothing in all of Atlas could have stopped our brave hearts. We belonged to the Human spirit that drove its youthful armies. It preached love, it preached war, it preached blood, and it preached the bond of brothers. How that dream has died. Nobody knew how my leg was crippled. None of the legionaries remembered the Rurikid spearing my calf. Nonetheless, I was cruelly judged. My ailing violated their sunny disposition; my gait was an offense to the flawless warrior - forever young. In these cold nights, my thought wanders to you. If I wasn’t crippled prior, I would’ve died by your side. And perhaps death was the better sentence. For I have seen the life you left behind, and it was none to desire beyond the grave. The maid you laid with has now grown fat and with child. The once delicious beauty only lingers in her eyes now. Your brothers in battle are crippled as I. More oft, they lie beneath the ground as you do - claimed in battle from Humanity’s endless endeavors. For them, a battle survived was no victory at all. Only one more gamble with death for anther day. Today would have been your fortieth. The sunny alleys and warm festivals of the Capital remain as warm, aye, but filled with the youth and life of our children. Their world is the one we left behind. Their Emperor is young. The governors are warriors themselves. Yet here we sit: fading, watching, waiting. The time will never come when I am young again. At night, I wish I was you; tragically fallen, immortalized in stone, and forever young. But I will not scorn your memory by lingering on what cannot be changed. There is word of a settlement named Leuven, beyond the Capital and into the warm summer fields beneath Haense. The men who leave for it say it is a land without past. Any who settle it start anew. They even whisper that there, the blood of Ashford lives yet. It speaks of a time far before ours; one I am exceedingly hopeful for. I write with bags of clothing floored and horses stirring outside. Come the morn, I ride. The boy has grown. Our dream is gone. But I will never be comfortably numb. If there was ever a new life to live, I will do it now. For me, and for you. Gwyn

Gwyn pens a response. “I dissected your three chief values – imperialism, ultranationalism, and fascism. I then applied those standards to your own policies and argued how they were incongruent. That is what I did. Seven paragraphs and you have not refuted a single point. You’ve only said I am wrong. Why? There is little point in drafting further rhetoric. Let us talk over fowl and wine within Helena. Send me a bird. Gwyn”

Addressed to the League and open to all, It appears now that a sensationalist wave sweeps over the political unconscious of the Imperial mind, capitalizing on the disturbance caused by Adrian insurrection. It is a primal response devoid of reason, sense, or need. In Question Not the Crown, the Adrian defiance is compared to the horrifying Duke’s War that predated our modern Empires. The mention of this crisis provokes the fear in us all; it was a time we abhor, and a time we readily evade. But the rise of this pseudo-movement is no answer at all. The “Imperial Fascist League” values three at its forefront: Imperialism, Ultranationalism, and Fascism. According to the definition of all three of these values, it is a party that prioritizes authoritarianism, race, dictatorship, suppression of opposition, and an Imperial doctrine enforced through might of military. I do not decry any of these values. There are lived men better than I that make this case and make it well. But the Imperial Fascist League does not live to their three central goals. The following policies directly contradict the trinity values, “The people remain at the forefront of the party.” “The Imperial Fascist League seeks to ensure that non-human citizens enjoy the rights of a human citizen.” “Imperials should not be subject to raving politicians who seek to further their own gains with no regard for the common individual of the Empire.” A party that values suppression of opposition and authoritarianism does not prioritize the individual, the people, or any of their delicate rights. It is a doctrine that raises the state and race alone. It was a common practice to berate and outright slaughter voices of opposition in the Empires of yore. They did not operate as individuals. They surged as a hive groupthink, bound in the euphoric and militant worship of the Imperial state. And it was successful. A fascist and nationalist party does not ensure the rights of non-human citizens. Rather, it triumphs on the notion of our race. The very nature of our nation is bound in the name itself; it is an Empire of Man, and Man alone. Tax and allegiance do not resolve the inalienable differences drawn between Humanity and the races beneath. A dog will love and serve me for his keep, but he is not my own. Furthermore, following policies are century-established staples of Imperial culture and provide little substance, “It is our belief that commoners who show prowess and skill in the military should be rewarded.” “A citizen of the Empire should be granted an opportunity to rise to certain power without a drop of noble blood.” How many banalities must you add to pad the length of this drivel? In hundreds years past, the marshal Vibius de Sola rose from nothing and became infamous for time immemorial. Bandit lords, charlatans, noble warriors and burghers without noble blood have held much power through all of Man’s past. It is universally understood that life will consume the weak and worthless. Those of merit, noble or swine, will rise regardless. Does your party also value that our sky is blue? You declare a trinity of principles that you do not understand nor value. You litter your magnum opus with banal truths that do not speak of either your party or common sense. What brings me most concern, however, is the state of this address. It is clear to any man that the formation of this League is not brought out of necessity, but rather the fervent impulse to affirm the greatness and importance of our Empire. And yet it seeks to spread across Our Parliament and legislate with authority it has not earned. Thus, I plead that these errors within your doctrine are corrected. I hope, with bated breath, that the mission of this League is either changed or adjusted to something fitted more to its “fascist” namesake. I will not sleep well knowing that this is what is to come of our good Parliament; lest I be forced to join the fray myself and challenge the League with one of my own. We are joined in the same race and Empire. These words are to inspire thought. I hope that you will consider them well. Regards, Gwyn

When you were new, you were blind to the general blandness around the server. You’re getting older, and now you’re seeing it. Is LotC dying? No. It’s always been this way. You’re just now entering a position where the fun RP you seek is up to you to create.

Make a scribe type character and join my nascent writers guild don’t even have to take it super seriously but it’s a good way to sharpen your writing skills and still have fun doing it