SteelTemplar

Noting a small dove flutters onto the small wooden window-sill, Sankar would gently untie the small note attached to it’s foot. Glancing over the paper, the old cleric would smile, pleasantly reading over the announcement. “Good, it’s about time” letting out a soft laugh as he walks towards the entrance of his abode, grasping the staff set aside at the door. Giving his home one last glance over his shoulder, Sankar nods, shutting the door behind himself as he exits, making his way towards the city to find the writer.

Will normally doesn’t do good work like this. He is normally a big dumb, but I guess its decent

"Some members"

God bless

(( GG

The ashes of the great lay in the north Loric Armas leans back into his chair, his face illuminated by the fire roaring from the fireplace. "The Empire has fallen to hopelessness" he mutters to himself, glancing up from the fire to three intricately decorated urns resting on the mantle. "But may the history be preserved and protected!" Loric reaches down beside the chair, picking up a silver chalice of wine from the stone floor and raising it, as if toasting the men who now lay in ashes inside the urns. "To the preservation of the Great men and their history!" "Emperor John the second, John the fourth, and the glorious Emperor Godfrey the first!"

I am in need of two drawings done. I will also pay super fantastically. Character Portrait Sketch, Polished, or Color: SUPER FANCY COLOR Color Details (if applicable): https://gyazo.com/07c91e9427d648d367a2e4b1619b4584 Character Name: Loric Armas Age: 45 Gender: Male Race: Adunian Link to Character's In-Game Skin (optional): Flowery Physical Description: Tall and a muscular build, long hair and a gloriously long beard. He is the more rugged and dirty looking of the family. He wears polished steel armor. Grey eyes. Prefers using his steel war axe. His necklace is an eagle with its wings spread. Clothing (this will only be visible from the shoulders up): Polished steel chestplate Other: Character Portrait Sketch, Polished, or Color: SUPER FANCY COLOR Color Details (if applicable): Character Name: Aldric Armas Age: 35 Gender: Male Race: Adunian Link to Character's In-Game Skin (optional): https://gyazo.com/3a4de8a043cdf423ed8b2ea3647ea2fd Flowery Physical Description: Similar to Loric, but cleaner and not as heavily built and shorter hair/beard. He wears a fur robe made of off white wolf pelt and dark brown bear pelts. Grey eyes. Has a fancy staff. His necklace is an eagle with its wings spread. Clothing (this will only be visible from the shoulders up): See above Other:

I blame the devs

Loric sits behind his desk, only a single candle giving him enough light to read the report. He leans back in the chair, staring at the candle "well, perhaps one shouldn't have let such a mad man near the throne...." Outside the thundering sound of hooves on stone cuts through the silence of the night, followed by the crashing of the iron gates coming down. The Adunian pushes out of his intriquately carved spruce chair, walking down his hall to the windows overlooking the courtyard of Serpentstone. His grey eyes look down upon the soldiers returning from their patrols, the courtyard glowing with the torches held by them. "If the imperials truly believe that the man was killed without due cause, after killing that man in the palace and holding his own father at sword point, then they are as dim witted as the rumors say. Especially after speaking so ill of the northern families and threatening them... May the next emperor be one of reason and intelligence, and not one that shows the horrifying effects of marrying within ones own family"

Setting Anchor for Repairs The cold northern wind blows the tops of the ocean’s waves into a white mist, spraying onto the wooden decks as the large wooden war ships glide through the waves, their sails already pulled. The waves chop against the hulls of the three ships while sailors continue to oar the vessels sluggishly into deeper waters and against the headwind. The sailors look as if they had been out at sea for some time, their unkept beards riddled with ice Suddenly, the “Pull oars!” command is heard from a tall, rough looking Adunian man, before being echoed along the deck by the other sailors. “Now, ready anchor! Helmsman! Steady as she goes!” he bellows. The helmsman replies quickly with an “Aye sir!” doing his best to keep the bow in the waves and wind, the ropes of the wheel taut. As the ship slows, a sailor holding a rope over the icy gunwale leans over his shoulder to face the Adunian “Captain Armas! She has slowed to one knot!” The captain glances to the man, nodding before turning back to the crewmen who awaiting orders. Captain Loric leans forward, his hands taking hold on the railing of the fly deck “Steady! Loose anchor! Four shot o’chain!” The crew’s heavy footsteps beat along the spruce deck to the bow of the ship, hurrying to complete the given orders. The rattling of heavy metal chains clanking against one another as the men attach the shots together can be heard, followed by a shout from one of the mates “Anchor ready! Loose Anchor!” The clanking once heard before silences briefly before starting again, but this time, much louder and faster as the chain rushes over the side of the boat, the weight of the chain and anchor pulling it along with great speed, only controlled by the large gypsy head, sitting on the starboard bow. A thundering SPLASH is heard as the anchor hits the icy cold waters of the north. It does not take long for the large, cast iron anchor to hit the rocky bottom, finding hold amongst the boulders below. The sailors let out the remaining chain, making sure to stop and lock the chain in place once the correct angle has been achieved. One of the mates turns back to the captain and shouts “Anchor holding sir!” “Now! Begin repairs and restock supplies! Pull the sails for mending and pull the rudders for patching!" "Tar the hull and repair what you can lads! We best be quick before a storm lands!” his commanding voice cutting through the whistle of the wind and creaking of the hulls. “Tonight and from this night on, skeleton crews shall be posted on lookout and prepare stern anchors.” The sailors begin scrambling along the the wooden planks. Some men work their way up the masts as others make for the hatches leading to the lower decks, all of them appearing to be inspecting anything and everything on the boat. Astern, the Vanir’s flags whip in the wind and Serpentstone lays beyond a sea of white foam and sharp waves, her stone walls firm against the growing sea. But between Loric and Serpentstone, a fleet of similar ships begin to drop their anchors as well. Each ship raising her own lantern atop the masts, marking their anchorage. The helmsman, knowing that the ship has been safely moored, leaves the wheel to stand next to the captain. “How long do you think it will take?” With his eyes scanning across the crashing waves, watching the small bits of ice get tossed about, he simply replies “Until we are done. Perhaps a month at best.”

What is the name of your guild, village, organization, etc.: The Holy Brotherhood of the Red Eagle What is the purpose of your guild/village/organization (if sensitive, this can be withheld and then privately shared with whomever is handling the charter): To convert the heathens and burn the heretics What plot size are you interested in: 70x70 What tile are you interested in: A17 If your tile is currently owned by a nation, do you have that nation's leader's approval: Independent Signatures (players should sign their persona/character name and their MC name):

It was a pleasure man. We are here to help.

*walks up behind guard, firing one shot directly into the back of his skull, dropping the pistol immediately and opening his cloak, revealing 6 pre loaded pistols, firing each one at the crowd before they have a chance to emote*

Accepted! Report to the barracks for training

Accepted! Report to the barracks for training