AndrewTech

NO CLOUD TEMPLE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Monks lose nation status confirmed!! Nah but unironically the inclusion of more jungles and islands, not to mention the condensing, got me excited until I realized this was a troll. I hope we see some of that in the actual 9.0.

Elizabeth Brae-Wittenbach rubs her hands together greedily, the seasoned Adunian wandmaker contemplating the reopening of Wittenbach Wands to fill this rise in demand for magical implements!

"Well deserved!" Arthur Stafyr said as he sorted the daily paperwork for the Palatine's Office, happy for the sake of his his in-laws.

I hugely agree with amending Lesser Enchantments to be activated in as little as one emote, but mages already have significant emote requirements that render most spells as "tank" functionaries in actual combat. Adding an additional two emotes on the simplest of combative spells would be very cumbersome. A simple water jet spell that normally takes 3 emotes would require 5 under these guidelines. Requiring this many emotes would render an enchantment practically useless. Nobody would want to use them anymore. Furthermore, Grand Enchantments, which are mostly used for spells that require a large number of emotes already, would be incredibly infuriating for non-mages to utilize during combat or in anything save for the aesthetic sense. I think the solution to the problem is to include a new amendment which limits non-mages to carrying only three potent enchantments on their person, or alternatively one grand enchantment and one potent enchantment. This would be a justifiable limitation ICly due to the limited amount of passive mana able to be drawn from a non-mage to recharge them. Forgoing this limitation could cause a user to feel extremely fatigued and potentially even faint. Alternatively, reducing the emote requires from 2 to 1 for potent enchantments and from 3 to 2 for grand ones for non-mages might also be a better way to go about it. But even still, the sheer volume of enchantments that would have inaccurate descriptions would be a massive headache for the ST to handle and deal with, so I think I would personally very much prefer a solution that limits the quantity of carriable enchantments rather than the ability / speed of them thereof.

A Blessed Union of Stafyr & Colborn 17th of Jonna and Umund, 447ES It is with utmost joy that the Houses of Stafyr and Colborn do announce the nuptials of the Hon. Arthur Konrad Stafyr and Lady Elia Eryka Colborn. After five holy months of proper betrothal, and a courtship lasting over a four year period, we are content to announce that the pair finally sought to bind their souls in holy union. Inspired by Lady Elia’s great-great grandfather, the couple decided to travel abroad to a locale that was foreign to them, an island off the coast of Hyspia. Only a select few family members were invited alongside four guests, two per partner. Witness to this ceremony was Her Eminence, Cardinal Katerina, who performed the rite. We ask that GOD keep her in good health, and thank her personally. Furthermore, we hope that GOD may guide us to our next chapters in life when we return to the mainland of Haense at the end of this year. The Hon. Arthur Konrad Stafyr Lady Elia Eryka Colborn-Stafyr The abrasive beams of sunlight deadpanned upon the grains of sand below, reflective off of each particle as the specter of aureate glowed above. Upon the bank of the given aisles rested the idle curls of foaming water, each flick of the waves caressing the sandy edges. Further into the center of said land was the collective patches of lush green grass blades, vibrant flowers, and other lively foliage. It was very different from the lands of the north, but guests from both families had come regardless. The couple had wanted the wedding to be a private affair on a small island off the coast of Hyspia, a land with great meaning to the groom. Arthur stared upward at the blistering sun, sweating a little bit. The climate reminded him of that which he had endured whilst he was still studying in the far south. He tugged nervously at his collar, remembering the days in which he practiced under the name of “Raul Freeman,” his beloved attorney persona. There he stood at the altar of the island’s chapel, Cardinal Katerina of the Church of the Canon prepared to administer the couple’s vows. He spared the crowd a nervous gaze, though he did meet the eyes of his Uncle Thondorus. The dyer simply offered him an approving nod, his stoic demeanor almost reassuring. The Stafyr’s siblings were also in attendance. Or, at least, Cedric and Morwenna were. His heart faltered a bit as he saw that Rhosyn was presently missing. But, deep down, he understood that a falcon must fly. At the end of the makeshift aisle decorated with fallen petals stood the beaming bride, lithe digits clasped over the bundled stems of her bouquet. Roses and mullein complimented her abnormal attire; mixed with her heritage and that of Almannir’s. Embraced about her torso was a gorgeous bunad of white colored silk, embroidered with small cross-stitching to reflect not only her heritage but that of her to-be husband’s. The traditional Colborn attire was complimented by a long veil of Almannir origins, flowing against the ground in a careless drag. It was evident the young woman silently wept as she trailed down in careful steps, carrying only herself. A rightward glance was spared to her family, festering only further tears as she choked up, overjoyed. And to her left she spotted her two guests, lips quivering now as she reached the end of her journey to the altar at her front. Cardinal Katerina stood at the altar as she slowly brought the palms of the couple together, beginning to boast the words of GOD as she joined them in Holy matrimony, allowing the pair to bask in the heat of the sun. As prayers were said, vows exchanged, and rings granted the ceremony had started to conclude. As to finalize the wedlock the pair had moved toward one another, sparing the audience a display of a simple kiss. The ceremony had concluded, and the two were now married. LIST OF INVITATIONS The House of Stafyr The House of Colborn Wolfgang de Vilain Viorica Barrow Johanna Barclay Fuyuki Osanawa

THE LAKE'S REFLECTION The Petran Lakeside c. 1894 It was a day like any other for Dame Catherine of Furnestock. The middle aged woman, her strawberry hair now graying, found herself out of her armor for once as she sat by the edge of the lake south of Valfleur. She wore a flowing dress of fine gold and scarlett, one which had been gifted to her by the Baroness of Acre some years ago. She had decided to take her wards, the young Archduchess and her brother, out to enjoy a lakeside picnic that day. Her head was uncovered as she laid on her back in the sun, her head uncovered she stared out at the clouds in the skies above. As they played in the waters beyond, she had taken this first slow moment since her retirement as Chancellor to dwell upon the past. It had been nearly twelve years to the day since she had first come to Petra. There had been little to work with at first upon her return from the Furnestock Islands. Indeed, there had been naught but a few derelict buildings and a makeshift senate chamber for meetings during the early days of the Republic. But everything was different now. The Commonwealth of the Petra was now a thriving realm, independent and proud. Its success had surpassed even her wildest expectations, this state founded on the principles of chivalry, liberty, and justice. Truly, she had done well for herself. Catherine bemusedly thought about the old Heartlander wives’ tale regarding “cats” and their nine lives for a moment, before her thoughts were suddenly interrupted. “Cat!” A girl’s voice had cried out in the distance. “CAT, he’s- He’s doing it again!” Immediately sitting upward, her eyebrows knit as she beheld Renilde and Alexander before her. The two were fighting over a rubber ducky of all things, the teenager clinging to it whilst her young brother cried. “I wanna play with Francis!” He cried out mournfully. “But it’s mine!” She retorted. “It’s my ducky, Alex, and I shan’t let you have it!” “Children!” Catherine spoke commandingly, glaring at them with her pale gray eyes. Both of them immediately ceased, turning to face their guardian as she offered them a stern gaze. They grew silent. “Return to shore,” She ordered, gesturing for them to rejoin her. They compiled, Renilde dutifully taking Catherine’s hand as she returned with her brother to the picnic blanket. The eldest orphan looked away for a moment. “Sorry, Cat…” She began. “I-” “-You were arguing with your brother again, weren’t you?” The weathered woman interjected, raising an eyebrow. “You know that I don’t like it when you do that, youngling.” “But why?” The boy suddenly piped up. “Rennie NEVER lets me play with Francis!” “Only because you might lose her!” “STOP!” Catherine suddenly thundered, in a voice which would have eluded her not two decades ago. With her commandment, the children once again went utterly quiet. For a moment, she felt guilty for having spoken to her wards in such a manner. But she knew that Paul, their father, would have wanted her to instill some discipline in them. Finally, she said after a moment’s pause, “Please… Sit down, younglings.” The two looked confused. They might have expected to be punished, but they compiled regardless as Catherine spoke. She passed a pair of towels over to them, so that they might clean their muddy feet and dry themselves off. “That’s better…” She muttered at long last. “Now, allow me to tell you a story. One of the past struggles in our family’s history.” “Our family?” Renilde inquired innocently, blinking as Catherine said this. “Aye,” She said. “Our family.” She and Alexander exchanged blank looks, ones which compelled Catherine herself to raise an eyebrow. “Did you not know?” The aging princess then said to them. “You are my cousins, younglings. We share the same blood.” “I…- We do?” Renilde blinked. “We do,” Catherine replied curtly, retrieving a warm loaf of bread and a small wheel of cheese from her basket as she set them before the children. She began to cut both into slices, their lunch for that afternoon. “Your father did not have time to tell you of our past before he left us, nor did your mother. But it is now my duty as your guardian to do so,” She spoke, before she began her tale. It had been a while since Catherine herself had dwelled upon that which she imparted to her wards, but she liked to think that her time spent in hiding as a bard in the Cragenmarch had well prepared her in the art of storytelling. She began with the conflict between her father and her great-grandfather in which her parents had returned from the Furnestock Islands, the land of her birth, to take the throne. Thereafter, she told them briefly of the war between the Holy Orenian Empire and the Tripartite Alliance, but this was a story with which they were already accustomed. It was the Brother’s War which she focused the most on, a conflict between her two younger siblings which had resulted in the disbandment of the Empire and the deaths of thousands. “...You see, the disparate branches of our family have been fighting for a very long time,” She finally concluded her tale as the children finished their meal. “It is a curse, younglings. One which I would not wish to see manifest in yourselves.” “But…- Are we not from the House of Temesch et Moere?” Renilde tilted her head, Alexander still baffled by the tales which Catherine had to tell. “It is merely a different way of denoting our separate branches. But the Temesch branch of the Novellen family descends from a Prince of the Holy Orenian Empire,” Catherine replied rather simply. “Your father merely adopted a new surname after the Revolution to distance your family from our troubled, troubled history. Yet, we do share the same blood. We are kin, younglings.” “Does that mean that we’re…- Um…” Renilde paused, thinking for a moment. “...Oh! Related to that nice man in Balian?” Catherine thought for a moment, before finally replying with a smile. “Yes, youngling,” She replied. “He is my uncle.” “I know that!” Renilde huffed, crossing her arms indignantly. “Is that then why he said that we would all be ‘living within the same palace, in another life’?” “Aye,” Catherine then nodded curtly. “And at one time, we did. We all did. But then, we began to fight…” “...And- That is why me fighting Renilde is bad?” The young Alexander finally spoke, his mouth stuffed full of cheese. “Quite!” The weathered princess snorted, unable to contain her laughter as she beheld his food-stuffed face. “But it is my hope that one day, the various branches of our family might no longer be so distant. After all, a heart full of love is greater than stronger than one filled with hatred.” “So…-” Renilde thought for a moment, trying to digest everything she had been told. “-...We are not all so different, then? We are all…-” “-...Though disparate, we are all Novellens,” Catherine affirmed. “And I love all of my family, child. And you should as well. Though our name may be cursed, it is who we are. It is where we came from.” “Kitty?” Alexander suddenly spoke up. By now, he and his sister had begun to lace up their shoes again. “Yes, Alex?” The Dame had begun to pack away their things, their lunch having come to an end. “Do you love us?” He asked with wide, hopeful eyes. For a moment, the woman paused. Her hands rested atop the picnic basket as she considered the question posed to her by the younger of the duo. “Yes, child…” She finally answered with a smile, basket now in hand as she moved to pick the six year old up in her other. Slowly, the trio moved along the road to return to Valfleir, Renilde taking Catherine’s hand in her own as they did so. “...I do love both of you, with all of my heart. And I always will.”

Hi Eddy! So I know you've seen a lot of wars. What were some of your favorite battles, and which were some of your least favorite? Additionally, what are some of the fond memories that you've had throughout both Oren and Haense's long histories?

A DECLARATION OF SUCCESSION & REGENCY On the 13th of Owyn's Flame, 1894. . . By the UNITY OF MIND of the GOVERNMENT in PETRA, serving always CHIVALRY, LIBERTY and JUSTICE, we the PEOPLE do present these RECREATE OUR GOVERNANCE, delivered at MOUNT GARMONT CONCERNING a DECLARATION OF REGENCY & SUCCESSION to the position of ARCHDUKE BY PROCLAMATION OF THE REGENT, Earlier this Saint’s Day, our beloved Archduke passed away unto the Seven Skies. It is by his last will and testament, with the unsealing being witnessed by Ser Thomas of Balamena and Dame Irene of Mardon, that Dame Catherine of Furnestock has been declared the Princess-Regent of our Republic. As per the succession laws of our realm, Renilde Helena of the Petra is to assume her father’s titles and the mantle of Archduchess of the Commonwealth of the Petra effective immediately. Her younger brother, Alexander Salvian of the Petra, is to be named next in the line of succession as per the Edict of 1893. Dame Catherine is to serve as the legal guardian to the young Archduchess and her siblings until the passing of their sixteenth birthdays. After the Archduchess comes of age, the Regency shall be dissolved and the Archduchess of the Petra shall assume her full constitutional duties. May our beloved Archduke find peace and rest in God’s loving arms, and his legacy be enshrined forever in the chronicles of our Republic. O SAINTE RÈGNE PETRÉRE HER GRACE, Renilde Helena of the Petra Archduchess of the Petra, Count of Temesch and Moere HER EXCELLENCY, Dame Catherine “The Phoenix” of Furnestock Princess-Regent of the Petra, Privy Seal of the Commonwealth of the Petra & Princess Imperial of the Holy Orenian Empire

Arthur Stafyr put away his quill, shadowy bags around the attorney's weary eyes as he gazed out of his window. "I hope that you are smiling upon me, Saint Godwein..." He said to himself with a smile as he sealed the envelope to dispatch to the local historical press.

The Chancellor applauded, happy to see that the gears of Petra's government were turning.

IGN: AndrewTech Character Name: Raul Freeman (aka "Arthur of Grenz") Age: 23 Residence: Sigismund Street V, City of Karosgrad Position (Alderman or Maer): Royal Alderman CAMPAIGN POST: