Jonificus

"We'll take one, then. For now...!"

Damn you're good.

"Are you daft! I could hire a crew to steal it from you at that cost! Unreasonable price, indeed!" The fat man tells his messenger to let Sarya know.

"It is I, Mithius Dalma. I've great need of brewing stands for my latest endevour and passion. I could use about three brewing stands, and I am paying anything within reason! -M. Dalma"

"Reckon it won't be long 'till the Shadow Council removes this fine piece." Theodal the Artist comments while making his way through the public gallery.

"Prince Mithius Dalma, The Great Merchant of Laureh'lin, Trademaster of Ker'nor, Friend of the sovereigns of Mankind for two centuries and a proper crafty ***** to say so myself. That is who I am and I'll see the rightful rulers of Lotharingia back in power." The Fat Spider's herald proclaims proudly in the marketplace of Metz.

All over the realms of Man there was a message spreading. A whisper. A rumour. In whatever form possible, be it letters, notices, bumbling tavern drunks or bombastic heralds, the message was put forth clearly. "Hear me, good folk of Orenia. To the south I've heard most terrible news of a usurper. A false queen who has chased out the remnants of the once fearsome and respectable House of d'Amaury, a family who I like to call my dear friends. Now do not let me misconstrued, I've no qualms with the House of Horen, however Lorraine was never theirs to rule, and the people of Lorraine made that very clear when they had left the Empire for Courland's cause. I've always been a good friend and associate of the highborn of humanity and feel like it is time for me to pay my debts to them for all their kindness, and with that I've this to say: To Her Farcical Majesty, Anna I Sofia of House Horen-Preussens, by the Grace of Yourself, Thief Queen of Lotharingia, Scheming Scoundrel of Pruvia, ****** of Lorraine, Cur of Ostwick and Summerhall, and Warden of Nothing. You of all should know that schemes and plots only leads down a miserable path, yet your woeful mind is insistent on violating the entire Kingdom of Lotharingia for your own satisfaction. Not an ounce of legitimacy, not a thimble of competence and hardly a pinch of reason. The Kingdom belongs to d'Amaury and shall be restored within two saint's days, should you and your council of spitlickles and craven lordlings fail to meet this demand then there is thousands of folk in the world far more unscrupulous than yourself who would most willingly accept a chest of silver for your life. Cower in fear or skin a cat, I do not care for what you do when threats are sent your way, simply get the deed done and you'll not hear from us again. Yours truly, The good friends of d'Amaury."

Mithius frowns, "Bad for business.." The fat elf grumbles as he summons his conglomeration of unsavoury characters to deal with this vile 'plot'.

"Charity is a conspiracy. You'll not have any of my books for free." Mithius laughs, tossing a thousand year old cookbook into the fire.

I'm not too keen on getting my hopes up about the orcs again. I've been going in and out of the Orc RP over the years with the superior olog Wun'Kog and have ended up shelfing the dude again the same week as the RP's just too inconsistent and the activity never seems to be peak whenever I'm around.

Already been there for quite a while, my dude. *Tips hat shadow councilly*

I'm bored as hell. Anyone looking for someone to play their kid or something? Give me a reason to have interest in the server that doesn't die off by the next day please. Thanks. -Jon

((But what about Northern European timezones? Also, it's easter vacation so a lot of Europeans probably have the week off

This is now a digimon thread. Pokelosers get out.

Mandatory frequent staff team purges. OR A new map already. I am NOT content with this one...

Just means that you're not welcome in the group if you're not respecting the clause. Either that or deafeningly loud screeching directed at you.

Farouk slaps his book shut, sniffing the air suspiciously before looking over to his fellow courtiers. "Ay smell empires." The desertman mumbles.

((Bit too ******* late for apologies now. You're not gonna slither your way away from this chimpout.)) Farouk drinks wine for two tonight, lamenting at his desk of all the times he should've been with his King. The good King Caius has rekindled Owyn's Flame within Farouk, his ventures in the West having been wrought with hardships but the holy fire of Owyn has kept the desertman resilient in the harsh winter world. "Get your well earned rest, friend. You've entrusted highly competent folk and myself to watch over your realm, so you can safely restitute and come back in full force to bring sweat to the necks of Mordring's followers!" Farouk slams his fist into his desk, spilling ink over half the parchments on the surface. The fire rises...

I unironically enjoy Joey's World Tour

I'm the kind of roleplayer that everyone likes.

they're outside playing in the sandbox all alone