The Hedge Knight

I think in the end, the mechanics of firearms on this server would be akin to that of magic or crossbow roleplay that we’ve already had for years. It’s honestly just an aesthetic difference at the end of the day. When you consider that most RP is done with an honor code, most people already do well enough following rules. And we have systems in place to deal with people who powergame the use of a firearm. Whether we limit their use and make them OP or, make them an interesting alternative, allowing someone to have pre-loaded firearms that can either make or break their chances in an RP fight I see no harm in it. I for one, think it would be cool to have a universal chart that firearms follow on a roll table. Universal so that everyone has access to these rules and terms of usage, that way we can all govern the RP at hand and call out any issues provided. I would love to be involved in the development of such a system, as I truly believe some cool and wonky scenarios could be had with something so simple implemented. Besides, we’ve had cannons before and Asulon, and even not that long ago. The time should come where we sit down and lay out ground rules for firearms, and make it something fun an interesting for all the stories being forged on this server. Would I like to be shot with a pistol and have it hit some random spot on my body based on a rudimentary roll table? For sure. Would I like to see the powder fizzle out on a low roll? Of course, I now have the next move and all my opponent did was shoot sparks. Would I like to see their gun pop in their hand because they’re inexperienced with firearms and clogged their barrel or even double loaded? Again, of course. It has potential to be great with little effort, or terrible, and a lot of that will be in fate’s hands. Ultimately, that is where I see it being most interesting and fun. Just a quick thought I’d like to add. Reading through various works of early accounts from various physicians in the past and their memoirs. Arrow wounds were most certainly more lethal. Not just due to the speed in which arrows can be let loose, but also from the fact that arrowheads cut and cause much harder to heal wounds for the human body. A bullet didn’t quite need to be extracted from a wound in all cases, as it was very likely the body would encyst a bullet projectile and cause no issues down the line. An arrow head getting stuck in the body in most cases would cause constant issues. Pus being constant due to the inflammation that would occur from the flesh constantly cutting itself on the jagged arrow tip. I could go on forever on that subject, but if you wish to find this information explained in better detail, look up Joseph Howland Bill’s “Notes on Arrow Wounds”. While he wasn’t a “medieval” period doctor, he certainly saw the clash of two different worlds and the effect on said men involved during the time. Keep in mind, this is during the Civil War, most firearms used in this time would be ages better than the ones we contemplate adding due to whatever balance or aesthetic differences people see. Thanks for reading this old fart’s post. ❤️

Govanalvo signs the thing. "Yes, very good, yes."

i luv u bb

Gavin would nod while looking at the notice. "Halstaig is always in need of good working folk." He'd then set off, looking to speak with whomever posted the notice.

((Been working on a tiny post since the first battle. Finally got around to finishing it. It's a tad bit graphic to those of you who believe you would like a warning of sorts. I hope you enjoy the read. EDIT: I had to change pleasure to unpleasured. Not sure why it changed it.)) A horse slowly saunters up to the previous fields of battle between the feuding humans. Two days had passed since the first battle had occurred, the moans of dying men were still heard through the bloody ghostly field. The horse was unsteady, but it's rider shushed the animal, trying to calm it. It could smell the death, it could feel the pain of those still dying. The rider brought his horse up to one of the Savoyard barricades, then hopped off from his stead. He pulled on the reigns, then hitched his ride to a stake protruding from the barricade. Quietly then, he marched through the field, the sound of crows cawing in the trees filling his ears. He listened carefully though, looking for one of the low cries he'd been hearing as he passed the field. Finally, there it was. A young Savoyard banner man, stuck below a dead, decaying horse. He approached the crying young man, then kneeled down beside him, pulling the lad's visor up. "Whats your name lad?" a chilled tone spoke out. "S-s-s-stephen.." the pained voice responded in a shivering weak tone. "Stephen... Count to ten, I'll pull you out of this rut." the man stood up, observing the scene. "Y-yes'uh... One.. Two..." the young man began to count. The rider positioned himself behind the young man, his arms wrapping underneath the man's armpits and back up around. By the time the young man reached seven, the rider pulled. To his surprise the young man slid out from beneath the horse with ease, but what he saw next would make his face twist in an unpleasured manner. The young man's gambeson had been torn across, his entrails a tangled mess trying to about freely. The rider eyed this, hearing the moaned out cry from the young man, he took a minute processing the site, and how futile it would be to try and fix this man with his very basic field knowledge. The rider looked down at the whimpering soul, a frown forming on his face. The rider then shifted to sit on his knees, he pulled the man's head off from the dirt then cradled it. "We shall say a prayer. Then this will be over." the rider's tone remained solemn. The young man could not respond, but only weep in his mixture of pain and realization of death. The rider began to pray quietly, a hand leaving the young man's head to grab a misericorde from the back of his belt. As he finished the prayer, he jabbed the blade into the temple of the young man's head a loud grunt leaving the rider's mouth. The young man was put to rest. The rider then slowly pulled his blade from the side of the man's head, wiped it off on his glove, then stood. He gazed over the war torn field silently, then continued his work. Piling bodies... Delivering final prayers... Then burning them. The rider knew what would come from a full field of corpses, he aimed to prevent it from becoming an issue to the people wandering to and from on the roads. Night came, and howls could be heard. He made his way back to his stead then left. Days would continue this way, slowly but surely working on cleaning the fields. This was the job of those few who could stomach it. This was the glorious solution to a disagreement.

10/10 Lark I love you.