Ark

I'm not sure how this will play out. I can see why it would work, since Cappy does have a robotic way of doing things. Though as we've seen before admins aren't usually boots on the ground. So maybe he/she(i'm sorry I really don't know at this point) will get other GMs to hold themselves to a higher standard.

Sitting in his keep at Karovia, Aleksandr orders his scribe to address a message to the Imperial Palace. "I, Aleksandr Tuvyovic Carrion place my vote for Boris Tuvyovic Carrion III."

Aleksandr Carrion reads it, he yawns as his eyes glance across the page. He then perks a brow. "Hrm, am not knowing what this is about, but okay?" he says before stuffing it into the correct pile at his desk.

Aleksandr Carrion sighs. "They don't even support the faith, these men." he walks away, head hung low.

Aleksandr nods to Avgust.

Aleksandr Carrion sits on his throne, he shifts uncomfortably as one of the children in his court bring him another stack of posters. He sighs as he scans over them, yawning. “I’m beginning to feel for every soldier they lack, they make another post.” He then quietly organizes the papers before handing them off to another one for storage. Aleksandr looks to Vasili. “What happened to men who fought with blades? I’m pretty sure with their sky-gods they have plenty of those.”

Aleksandr Carrion smiles, reading the treaty. "It is good to see men who don't flock to the banners of an oath breaker."

Aleksandr Carrion nods, he was already aware of the elves backing out. In a calm tone he says. "Am wondering why, they support the heartlanders, ones who supported and assisted in murder of other races." he shakes his head, before going to get a drink at the tavern from Mithius, the dark elf bar owner.

Aleksandr Carrion sits in his throne room, he lets out an exasperated sigh. He didn't want war, but he would not accept treason within the empire, it was his duty to protect Oren. No matter the insults which have been thrown at him since the declaration of treason. His normal face, filled with expression and joy is clouded. He looks around at his court room, he see's his soldiers, his men, his friends. A large frown fills his face as he watches them, realizing, not all of them will return home. No matter how much it pains him, he must protect his father. He would let out an encouraging smile to the ones spouting encouraging words. Though, in him boils an anxiety that he won't see all these faces when they return. He stands up. "Ser Maric, I hold no hatred to you, your race, or your people, but a false claim as king is one I cannot support. I will not allow you to spilt this empire, that my father, and his father have worked to keep intact. I hate to kill my fellow mankind as much as any of you, but they are traitors, looking to steal a piece of my papa's crown the moments his eyes close forever, because of this I will fight them until my last breath." he raises his sword and yells. "Carry on Carrion!"

Karovian Boarding House! -Fliers are spread across all of Oren and her allies, they read- "Privej good women, men, dwarfski, elfski! Karovia has opened a boarding house, it is a haven for any man, woman, kha, elf, dwarf who seeks employment or housing in Karovia. It is free of any charge, food, protection, and a strong sense of community will be provided! “With the constant influx of people moving into Karovia, a lack of housing has become an issue. To combat this, we have built a home for good, honest people to join Karovia. Living in this home does not oath you to any allegiance under Karovia, Duke Aleksandr Carrion, or Oren itself. Though you will be expected to obey the laws and legislation of Oren and Karovia.”

A Forgotten Son A solemn darkness lingered amidst the night air, as only the faintest of light flickered across the quiet town of Karovia. There the moon stood high in the sky above, the various rooftops below basked beneath its silver aura. Meanwhile a small figure strode through the empty streets, his footsteps light as he gripped tightly between his fingers a crumpled envelope, bearing upon it the name ‘Aleksandr Carrion.’ The boy’s face was coated in dirt, his clothes worth little more than rags. As he turned through an alleyway, he peered up at a large stone bricked tower that stood before him. Bright lights seeped out across the ground as he slowly approached, a chilling cold apparent in his reddened cheeks. As he reached the sealed doorway into the keep, he leant on his tiptoes, extending out his arm before giving a light knock. As the boy waited outside, he did no more than stand in silence, his blue eyes shimmering in the reflection of the light from within. There after a few moments, a pair of hands slowly creaked open the wooden door, a tall figure emerging before him. The Imperial Prince Aleksandr Carrion took a quick glance at the child before stepping outside and bending down to take a closer look at him. His reflexes quick, the boy took a single step backwards, apparently in intimidation of his advance. Yet with a smile forming across his face, Aleksandr raised his hand for calm, and after a few moments, the child leant his head up, offering the letter towards him. Aleksandr arched a brow as he took hold of the envelope, raising himself upright once more. Noticing that it was addressed to him, Aleksandr turned the envelope over, tearing it open with his fingers. Sliding the letter out from within, he saw that the parchment was stained and dull, the writing upon it scrawled about untidily. Yet as he read its words, his eyes begun to widen. He quickly looked back down at the boy, folding the letter into his pocket before giving a swift motion of his hand, gesturing him towards the entrance of the keep. "Welcome to Karovia, Ivan Barrow...” he uttered beneath his breath. With some hesitation, the boy followed after him inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

no.. I wanted activity!

Shakes his head, sighing as he reads it. Another good sc- err business move by Ser Paul Ryan.

Aleksandr Carrion would sit in his chair, frowning after hearing the news. He sighs, shaking his head. He then expels his court, he would then cry for the death of his wife.

I like you mr frosthand. we all know he has more common sense than you. ftfy

Aleksandr Carrion shrugs his shoulders. "If they are children of Corbett, I support that notion."

Aleksandr Carrion wonders why he isn't on the donater wall yet.