AndrewTech

Catherine of Furnestock smiled in approval, pleased to see the publication of the Constitution which she had painstakingly assisted the Count of Temesch in drafting.

There was much that the late Konrad Stafyr wished that he could say from the Seven Skies. However, being deceased, such was an impossibility. From what little his ghostly specter had seen, the Duke of Vidaus seemed to be an honorable and competent man. This phantom of the past, in truth, was not well informed enough to have an opinion. He cared little about the matter. But the issue at the very core of this was something else entirely, which he was glad the Vernhart had raised. He, a mere cobbler's son and distant cousin of a comital lord, had worked his way up to knight, speaker, and then eventually Palatine in the land he so loved on the basis of naught but merit. That was the beauty of Haense, and it was what had made it so beautiful since the days of King Petyr I. No matter who you were, hard work and competency could propel you to the top. Fresh blood and new ideas kept the kingdom going. Were this to be lost, Haense would become nothing more than a shell of its former self. The Haeseni way of life depended upon it. It was what had separated them from so many other peoples. And so, the spirit of Sir Konrad desperately hoped that the meritocracy of the Kongzem would be preserved, and remained happily at rest knowing that he had performed his service and that his old responsibilities had come to an end.

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THE PHOENIX CYCLE A TREATISE ON THE NEED FOR HUMAN UNITY By HIH Catherine Anastasia Princess Imperial & Duchess of Westmarch c. 1880 It is an undeniable truth that in recent decades, the Orenian people have endured many hardships. Indeed, for as long as I can remember, our people have struggled against the weight of the world, and humanity itself has borne a bloodstained legacy. When I was but a child of six winters, I was forever traumatized when I was forced to give my father’s “eulogy” to the large crowd in the Basilica of Old Providence. During the earliest days of my youth, the state of the Holy Orenian Empire was then in an abysmal condition. As a ward to Archchancellor Josephine at the time, I could see even then as a youngling that the future was looking poorly for our crumbling Empire. Even following the return of my parents, decades of war and hardship hindered any and all of our efforts to save the crumbling remnants of the Eighth Empire. Many brave and courageous people tried, including myself, but our actions were to no avail. The untimely deaths of my father and mother broke my heart and set in motion events that would lead to the subsequent civil war and imperial collapse. I knew what was coming and, much to my shame, I could not bear to witness it. And so, I ran. I ran to the Cragenmarch because I could not bear to see my brothers, nor my father’s subjects, take up arms against each other. I ran because, although my time as Vice Chancellor was short and I was but a child for most of the conflict, I could not help but to blame myself in some small way for that which was transpiring. I ran because I could not bear to witness the tragedy that was yet to come, an inferno which I had sought to unsuccessfully hold back. For the last several months, I have remained at the bedside of my dying brother, attending to his every need as his physician of choice. It seems that once again, we now face the horrors of the inferno. And again, as in the case of the last war, those horrors have been spawned into being by the ghoulish nature of interhuman warfare. Once is an anomaly, but twice is a pattern. It is now that I see the true cause as to the endless nature of this ghoulish cycle. I will not run away from it again. It is my solemn duty as both a scientist and as a philosopher that I at least make an attempt to describe my observations in an empirical manner. A conflict between one’s blood can never end well. Though perhaps unavoidable, the feud between my father and the rest of our family was perhaps as nasty as quarrels go. So too was the quarrel between my younger brothers, both of whom I personally raised with all the love and care that a sister could offer. I loved both Frederick and Peter with all my heart, yet their conflict ended in a similar manner. There was nothing I could do to stop it. The struggle between the Kingdom of Oren and the Barony of Acre now threatens more of the same heartbreak, for the Baron himself was like a brother unto my brother. Once again, history repeats itself. This unending cycle is one which I shall christen furthermore to be an anomaly known as “The Phoenix Cycle.” For those who may be unaware, the phoenix is a bird in Renatian mythology that will disintegrate into ashes toward the end of its lifespan. But from those ashes, that same creature will eventually be reborn. I believe this same process to be applicable to humanity as well. Revival. Repose. Ruination. During the Revival Stage, a proud people will become stronger at the beginning of the cycle, growing in their prosperity as they ascend to greater heights. Then, they will find peace and relax during the Repose Stage of the cycle. A proud people will become complacent, thriving off of the success that they have had during the past but doing little to strive toward building upon it for the future. Finally, they will falter and face the Ruination Stage toward the end of the cycle. All good things must come to an end, after all. Brothers will take up arms against one another as the inevitable slowly looms, in an attempt to either forestall it or become the ones positioned to enjoy the revival stage when it eventually dawns again. This cycle is all but universal, and it can be seen at almost every level of our lives. But it is not even at the level of our country that it boasts the biggest threat, for it transpires between the realms of humanity as well. It is my solemn belief that the disparate realms of humanity have now entered the final stage of the Phoenix Cycle. I was at first reluctant to accept this reality, but I now see that the whole of Horen’s kindred now face the dreaded possibility of ruination. “As you have subjugated the nations of the world and wrought iniquities upon them, so will those nations return upon your people, and their suffering will be thrice over. The world will weep.” -Gospel 7:37-38 The countries of Oren and Haense have been at odds for the better part of a century and a half. Many believe that it was always this way, but I know that it was not. As an avid student of history, I know that things were once very different between our two peoples. We both began the Phoenix Cycle in the revival stage. As the Holy Orenian Empire grew in strength, so too did the Kingdom of Haense. In the aftermath of the most devastating war in human history, the War of the Two Emperors, we found ourselves again, together. After we went our separate ways, we began to enter the repose stage. Slowly yet surely, we became complacent as a result of our successes and triumphs. As great as they were, we failed to innovate and evolve. I now fear that, in the last fifty years, we have all entered the final stage of the Phoenix Cycle in this great epic. The ruination stage, a part of the cycle in which both of our peoples shall suffer tremendously. It is likely that the people of Balian shall suffer similarly as well, for they too are tied to our inevitable destiny. As the sons of Horen fight amongst each other, we head closer and closer to that inevitable precipice. Once we cross it, there will be no turning back. Something new shall emerge from those ashes, but it will likely be unrecognizable if we continue down this path. It is even possible that the kingdoms of today will entirely destabilize, and that we may find ourselves to be little more than disparate tribes, as we were during the time of Exalted Horen. This would leave us vulnerable and insecure. Our infighting would be to the delight of all who would seek to do us harm. But, as in all things, there is hope. This cycle can be broken, and we can avoid the ruination that is yet to come. However, to break the Phoenix Cycle, we must do the unthinkable. We must, at last, stop fighting each other at all levels. Humanity must come together. Our common religion, the Church of the Canon, has the potential to unite all of us. God is a powerful unifier between the human realms. But although the Pontiff may theoretically do much to shepherd his flock, in practice, His Holiness’s ability to do so is limited. A shared history and lineage, the Tapestry of Mankind, has been a unifying factor in the past. But that tapestry is now sullied, with much of the recent history between the Canonist countries being mixed at the absolute best, and abysmal at the absolute worst. There are other ways of promoting unity between humans. They can be as simple as the hosting of cooperative events together, or by dispelling preconceived notions that we have about one another through showing our common humanity through our actions. We must foster a dialogue between brothers. We, as children of Horen, must have the honor, the discipline, and the resilience to recognize that we are all part of something greater. But above all else, we must learn to forgive others and let go of our grudges. We cannot be as dwarves, harboring ill will toward each other for generations on end. In his epistles, Exalted Owyn preached of mankind’s potential for redemption above all else. None of us are beyond it. And as a wise philosopher once said, time heals all wounds. Out of fear of droning on, I shall swiftly conclude this treatise with a note of optimism. Though Oren may have found itself in the midst of another civil conflict, this struggle will not last forever. Likewise, I do not believe that humanity’s struggle between the disparate realms will last for all time. I believe that we can break this cycle merely by working together toward a common goal, as partners rather than rivals. We, as humans, must learn to work toward something with, rather than against, each other. When united as one, there is nothing which we cannot do. Today is wrought with civil strife. We have recently ended yet another bloody and damaging interhuman war, and I fear more lives are yet to be lost. These are, without a doubt, troubled times. But these times will not last forever. It is my hope that someday, when we have shed our competitive tendencies, humanity might work together toward building a consensual union. A union based on the acknowledgement of the Rights of Mankind. One based on the diffusion of power and a shared stake in the destiny of humanity, led by those who can unify us around an inspiring vision that is greater than our petty squabbles and grudges. For human unity can no longer be forced through domination. It must be earned through mutual consent and respect. A contract, written or unwritten, must therefore be established that will allow us to set aside our farcical competitions and strive toward something greater. Common ground must be found and a truce must be struck. I may be a fool to think this to be possible. It may be that I am merely a naïve and old fashioned woman, admittedly advancing in age. And perhaps we are doomed to endure the consequences of the last stage in the Phoenix Cycle, to follow it into its implied ending. My musings are, of course, theoretical in nature. I do not pretend to hold all of the answers. But I will never give up hope that we might rise above and break the chains which we, as a race, have forged for ourselves.

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The Duke of Cathalon smiles, glad to see his late father served justice.

The Anti-Draconic Pact 83 SA | 1879 IN THE INTERESTS OF PEACE UPON ALMARIS, Upon the discovery of Azdrazi influence throughout the world by High Pontiff Tylos III, the Kingdom of Oren and the Horde hereby agree to coordinate on investigations, searches, seizures, arrests, and all other legal actions conducted with the intent of removing the presence of the dragonkin, otherwise known as the ‘Azdrazi,’ from the respective territories of the two countries and their subjects. Azdromoth and his brethren have wrought a path of devastation in their wake and committed countless atrocities against the peoples of Almaris, such as the insidious devastation of the capital city of Elvenesse forty-years ago, and other subsequent invasive measures taken by the Archdrakaar to plant Azdrazi and Heralds in foreign governments, religious organizations and populations as sleeper agents. ARTICLE I - On Removing the Azdrazi All Azdrazi, their adherents, and their allies, are hereby banned from entering the respective realms of the Horde and the Kingdom of Oren. Any known Azdrazi residing within their lands shall be immediately arrested and summarily executed upon the signing of this treaty. Any word, written or spoken, in defense of the Azdrazi shall be censured, with the propagators taken in for questioning. When necessary, the Horde and the Kingdom of Oren shall cooperate in eradicating their respective realms of the Azdrazi threat. ARTICLE II - On Religious Authorities Religious authorities both within the Horde and the Kingdom of Oren, respectively, shall be allowed to review and examine investigations, arrests, and executions after they have been conducted in order to alleviate any concerns about the conduct of the campaign against the Azdrazi. These authorities are not entitled to such evidence upon demand, and must request the presentation of such through proper legal and diplomatic channels. However, all leads and investigation shall be directed to a tribunal of the Church of the Canon and the Shamanic Moot, unless extenuating circumstances, at the discretion of the King of Oren and the Rex of Krugmar, require such information to be temporarily withheld. Upon request, religious authorities from within the Horde and the Kingdom of Oren may be granted permission to accompany law enforcement operations related to the campaign against the Azdrazi. ARTICLE III - Expiration Once the Azdrazi threat has been removed and the campaign against it has ended, this pact shall become defunct. The agreement of both the High Pontiff of the Church of the Canon and the Motsham of the Horde will be required to bring this pact to an end. SIGNED, Ar-Borok of Clan Akaal, Rex of the Horde Sahgorim of Clan Ugluk, Targoth of the Horde, Commander of the Krug-hai Ixûla of Clan Akaal, Dominus of the Horde IN NOMINE DEI, HIS MAJESTY, Frederick I, King of Oren, forever August, King of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duke of Ves, Duke of Vienne, Helena, Novellen, Sunholdt, Furnestock, Petra, Oltremont, South Arentania, and Lorraine, Count of Mardon, Baron of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders and Farfolk, etcetera. Catherine Anastasia, Duchess of Westmarch, Baroness-Dowager of Pompourellia Dietrich Barclay, Leader of the General Assembly and the Chairman of the Banardian Party

"I dedicated decades of my life to forging a lasting peace between the Holy Orenian Empire and the Kingdom of Haense," Elizabeth Brae-Wittenbach calmly remarks to her secretary as she reads the contents of the paper from the comfort of one of her offices, sipping gingerly from a cup of tea. "When I was Foreign Secretary, we made peace with Haense and peace with Urguan both. Though that peace did not last, to say that the Empire and its leaders did not strive to do so is flawed, at best. And revisionist, at worst. A lovely paper, but this claim is simply wrong. For those I fought for to claim that we didn't try, that I didn't try, breaks my heart more than words can say."

I've been around for almost every map, save for Aegis and Atlas. And if there's one irrefutable truth about them that I've observed, it's that FREEBUILD DOES NOT WORK. I have always staunchly believed that roleplay is best promoted through establishing larger nation-states and limiting the number of smaller settlements on the map to the "real deal" groups who can actually make them work. Realistically speaking, the more people who congregate together, the more roleplay there will be and the higher its quality will be. Unlimited freebuild would be a terrible mistake. Noobs aren't helped by offering freebuild to them, they're actually harmed. Very rarely is there decent RP out in the freebuild areas. Newer players are more reluctant to seek out mentors in established nations or settlements if they think they can go it alone. Worse yet, it dilutes building quality and weakens the ongoing narrative of the server. As for veteran players, if they can join an existing nation or get a settlement application affirmed, they'll almost always go for it. Very rarely, if ever, will they try to build something in a freebuild zone because of the lack of raid protections and the high likelihood of a decent quality build being torn down, griefed, or taken over by someone else. If anything, I think the answer is to condense further. Removing inactive settlements and nations to bolster existing ones will make way for newer, potentially more successful ideas that the player base will come up with. Enforce nation and settlement activity standards far more stringently. If you can't make 3%, you lose a tile. Keep it up and you lose nation status. If you can't make 1%, you lose your settlement. For groups that don't fit within any, liberalize lair applications to allow for greater RP diversity in the world. Or better yet, establish a high monetary upkeep requirement and remove activity checks all together. They're honestly an antiquated relic of Arcas's failed land management system. Doing so would reduce the stress on player bases and still keep tabs on what settlements are still successful or not.

I greatly dislike the obsession that some people have with replicating one particular era of history, and I honestly think that this has been one of the problems that has dragged sections of the server down before. Aligning with any one era from IRL history is very short sighted. Some of the most popular and widely acclaimed fantasy universes such as the Elder Scrolls, the Witcher, and even Lord of the Rings (to a lesser extent) draw upon different elements from varying eras to diversify the storytelling opportunities presented within them. Modeling RP after any one era limits the potential for the roleplay available to a community. Some people like to argue court cases and enjoy slice-of-life tea parties. Others prefer grittier vibes filled with inter-family intrigue and the constant danger of loss. Yet others prefer the sort of mystical roleplay that wouldn't be present in the lowest fantasy universes, or the scholasticism / intellectual roleplay that would have been absent during most of these eras. Different parts of the server may prefer different vibes, but I don't think that promoting different niches of roleplay outside of typical historical norms should be something to be shamed. I think it's more useful to decouple communities from that sort of thinking and instead just focus on weaving a series of compelling narratives based off of the passions of a player base and its different groups therein. Dynamic individual agency will always trump artificial collectivism.

THE FINAL FRONTIER Art by @Toffee It was a day like any other for Celestine Herbert. Although in truth, no day had ever been the same throughout her exceptionally long and arduous life… The borderline ancient woman stared outward at the coast through the lenses of her spyglass. It was a fine morning, so far as she had observed from the vantage point provided by the cliffside. The high tide was in, and the weather was as clear as a bell. An ideal day for setting sail, she thought to herself as the weathered explorer lowered the instrument. Indeed, there was a ship waiting for her at the docks of Eastfleet. It was due to set sail in a couple of hours. “Going somewhere?” A voice inquired from behind. Slowly, the wrinkled old figure turned to behold a youthful looking sorceress. She had stunning red hair and eyes which were as blue as the sea, and a look of intelligence about her. The mage had always kept it long and free, for as long as she had remembered. “Perhaps,” Celestine replied simply as she turned to face her daughter. “It is curious, though, that you have only chosen to answer my letters now.” “I’m sorry, mother,” Elizabeth replied gently. “No matter,” Celestine’s gaze returned to the horizon. “You know what I have to do then, yes? And you know why I have to do it, child?” “Yes, I do…” The sorceress replied with a sigh. “And you are certain that you don’t want me to come with you?” “Nay,” The old explorer slowly shook her head. “You’ve a destiny to explore for yourself here, Elizabeth. I know how much you miss Tanith, but I cannot allow you to accompany me.” “But…- Mother, my magic! I could be of the utmost use on your journey!” “I don’t deny that you wouldn’t be,” The old woman smiled faintly. “But I need you to stay here and help your father. You need to look out for the NGS. And for him, for that matter. Besides, you’ve ever so many who have come to love and rely on you.” “And… W-Will you be coming back? Will you be bringing her back?” The sorceress faintly inquired, moving to take her mother’s hand as tears streamed down her face. To this, Celestine did not reply for a good, long moment. For she knew the answer that she had to give. And she equally knew how much it would hurt Elizabeth. “When I was a young woman, a Scyfling shaman gazed into the future to predict my fortune,” The anthropologist began. “He said that I, before the end of my life, would venture into a frozen wasteland. One covered with ice. An inhospitable realm, one where I would find a great treasure…” “...And you believe that great treasure is Tanith?” Elizabeth blinked. “It’s hard to say,” The anthropologist grunted, frowning a bit as she moved to cross her arms. “But I know that Tanith’s ship was heading in that general direction, when she left. It’s the best lead I’ve got, and I have to pursue it. I owe it to her, Eliza.” Continuing to blink rapidly, the sorceress was quiet for a good, long moment. Though her silver tongue had helped her to bring peace between even the most bitter of rivals, Elizabeth had no words. “Before I go,” Celestine said quietly, finally placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I want you to know something, Elizabeth.” “W-What?” She asked quietly. “That I’m proud of you,” The old anthropologist smirked. The sorceress was speechless, for this was the first time that her mother had said these words. “I’ve always been proud. And I will always be, forever and ever,” Celestine added, the ancient scholar looking into her daughter’s eyes. “Look at you, little one… Look how far you’ve flown! What a powerful magi you’ve become. And to have made peace between Oren and Haense, when none seemed plausible?” “That peace didn’t last for long,” She muttered, looking away for a moment. “I failed, mother. My peace failed to stop the war. And now the Empire-” “-You have failed in nothing,” She gripped Eliza’s shoulders tightly. Despite her age, she still had a fair bit of strength left in her. “On the contrary, you have been so successful throughout your life. You are so much like me. Your iron will, your spirit… And that is why I asked you here to see me off, for I trust nobody more than you to take care of this.” As Celestine crowned her daughter’s head with the battered hat, the one which she never took off as though bound by creed, tears streamed even further down her eyes. The sorceress was speechless. “B-But mother, won’t you be needing-” “-I won’t be needing it, where I’m going,” Celestine replied simply, the sunrise shimmering off of her gray hair. “I expect you to take good care of it now, as well as… Everything, that I am leaving behind.” Slowly, Elizabeth began to nod. “I will…” She promised her mother, before moving to embrace her. “...I love you.” “I love you too, my dearest child.” They embraced for a good, long moment. It seemed as though it would last for all of eternity. Yet, it did end. And as it did so, Celestine turned away from her daughter and descended from the cliffside. As the ship departed and sailors bustled about, Celestine stared out at Almaris from her vantage point at the stern of the ship. She thought about all the friends that she had made, over the course of her very long life. All of the adventures that she had undertaken. The Lost Continent of Athera. The Nether. The Attenlund. She had gone to so many places, where nobody had ventured before. And yet, those were not the most exciting journeys which she undertook. She thought of Otto, Tanith, Chirr, Stephen, Juan, James, Dilvyn, Ferek, and the many other NGS members who had followed her over the years. She thought of her children, Alejandro, Dannika, and Elizabeth… And she thought of her other friends, including Fiil’Yar and others. Though few still recognized her name, her legacy was a vast one. The Northern Geographical Society had fulfilled even her wildest dreams, unwavering in purpose and determined in its mission. But had she made the world a better place, despite it all? Had what she had done with her life truly made a difference? Could a few meager museums have really changed the world? Did anyone truly understand the mission that she and her followers had sought to undertake? Suddenly, she beheld a fiery spectacle atop the cliff sides of Eastfleet. It was relatively small, and far from threatening, but… The meaning was clear. Grinning as her weary eyes beheld the fiery compass rose of many colors, which quickly dissipated into nothingness in the orange sky, Celestine had received her daughter’s message. This was not her journey’s end, but rather the beginning of a new one. Regardless of whether her legacy would stand without her or not, the Final Frontier awaited her. And, the old explorer thought to herself, it was hers for the taking. ✵ CELESTINE HERBERT ✵ Anthropologist, Historian, & Explorer Founder of the Northern Geographical Society ✵ OOC: ✵

✵ Enchanter for Hire! ✵ Greetings and salutations! To whomever may be reading this flier, I am the Pathfinder Wizard. Having been working with magic for decades, I take great pride in shaping the arcane into custom artesian pieces for protective, utilitarian, and aesthetic use. My now defunct business, Wands & Wonders, previously serviced countless customers across the eastern seaboard before I elected to retire from the market. However, I am now in need of money, and thus I have decided to set up a new correspondence business allowing for my expertise to be utilized by the public. I offer a wide variety of goods and services to those patrons whom choose to commission my services, including the following: Enchantments (Made to Order; Specialies in Water & Fire Evocation / Translocation) Lesser Enchantments: 150 – 300 minas Potent Enchantments: 300 – 600 minas Grand Enchantments: 600+ minas Custom Wands & Implements (Crafted with Care; Enhances Focus and Doubles Spell Range) Arcane Implements: 75 - 150 minas Atronach Limb Prosthetics (20% Discount for all Military Veterans; Specialty in Water & Fire) Elemental Limbs: 500 minas* *Standard issue limb price. Additional enchantments & features may incur additional charges. I do NOT sell telekinetic limbs to the general public. If interested, please address your letter to 'The Pathfinder Wizard' and leave it tacked to the base of the signpost at Eastfleet. Be sure to include a name and return address so that I can reach out to you in turn. We thank you for your patronage in advance!

✵ A Young Artist’s Auction, Part IV ✵ ✵ Roadside Gems I ✵ 1871 Having spent a lengthy period of three long years in the Cragenmarch, HIH The Duchess of Westmarch has found herself imbued with new inspiration. Thus, she has found it within herself to once again sell paintings to her patrons once more. However, she has chosen to release these in the form of a series of new collections entitled “Roadside Gems” with the intent of showcasing the most beautiful of scenes as she sets out to circumnavigate Almaris! The first of these collections shall cover scenes from the Haeseni-Orenian borderlands as well as Lower and Upper Petrus. These new landscape portraits will showcase a wide variety of scenes from across the continent, ones which illustrate the beauty and diversity of those locales not widely known to the general public. In the same tradition as her previous auctions, 10% of the proceeds will be donated to charitable endeavors, with the rest going to support Princess Catherine’s creative endeavors and travels across the continent. CATHERINE’S PORTFOLIO: (NOTE: All bids must be cast in person at the auction, or via a proxy. Example pieces are watermarked to prevent unauthorized replication. Replication for commercial use is impermissible without the artist’s approval.) PAINTING #1: “The Fortress” PAINTING #2: “The Open Road” PAINTING #3: “A Lonely Tree, Looking Behind” PAINTING #4: “A Lonely Tree, Looking Ahead” PAINTING #5: “The Harbor” PAINTING #6: “The Ship” PAINTING #7: “The Village” OOC DETAILS:

I apologize for not reading up on the previous comments regarding such before posting. The thing is that even an inert enchantment passively draws upon the user's mana to recharge though. The lore explicitly states that this is harmless enough, as it basically just uses aura exhaust to power its functions. Passive mana isn't sapped, it's collected. Atronach limbs should ideally require a core of some sort, though these are usually far smaller than the sizable ones which power a full atronach. The lore does say that they function differently, but they still need to be present to work as an interface between the user and the. The exact wording is: "While a typical atronach requires conjuration in order to grant them sentience from their core, atronach limbs are not so. As the wearer of an atronach limb already has sentience and animation, only the evocation of choice and transfiguration are required to make a limb in a freeform process. This process cannot be done in combat, even with the necessary materials on hand. " I think what Pun was getting at here when we wrote this was that cores within atronach limbs should require less of an imbuement than standard atronach ones. Every single atronach forger I've ever witnessed, at least in my circles, utilizes these in the creation of theirs. Regardless, I suppose that I could see this line of thinking, though I think this should be clarified as this is indeed very vague and should still be core oriented as that's what the entirety of atronach forging revolves around. This is basically still just standard voidal poisoning though in all honesty, minus the allowance for Half-Plate. The effects of full voidal poisoning are honestly greatly overexaggerated by most. Even a fully poisoned mage can wield a one-handed weapon and wear gambeson, as specified in the voidal connection lore. "Mages who practice magic for one or more OOC months cannot wear full plate effectively, and at best are limited to half-plate or some light gambeson. Anything more than this would render the mage unable to cast and incredibly exhausted after just a short time of wearing it. Though a mage could wear full plate prior to this point, their ability to do so would slowly degrade, exhausting more over time. Once a mage has reached about three OOC months of casting would find themselves unable to cast in anything heavier than gambeson, struggling to connect and maintain their breath in heavy plate." Thus, I honestly don't see how your suggestion wouldn't be the equivalent of full voidal poisoning. Wearing more quickly while using two-handed weaponry at the intermediate category might be fairer than total exclusion, which is more or less a T4-T5 thing. I fully agree with this, and I think it's ridiculous that the lore is being abused in this manner. In my experience though, a lot of the people I've interacted with out of high magic circles only utilize elemental ones without enchantments. I really think it's unfair to them to suddenly turn things upside down on the average joe that's using these limbs correctly. I think the root of the problem here is the existence of telekinetic limbs, which I think were a grave mistake to reintroduce to the server. These limbs had been eliminated but recently returned with the reintroduction of a rudimentary variant of it to transfiguration. They are the only variety of atronach limb that allow for this sort of thing, and I honestly think that they are also heavily overpowered. I think it would be more constructive to add voidal poisoning drawbacks to telekenetic limbs only, which makes more sense due to their particularly voidal focus and could be done in exchange for the extra temporary strength that comes along with them. Better yet, I would support the total elimination of telekinetic limbs, which are sadly game breaking and have been abused by many bad actors. Either that or making telekinetic limbs exclusive to voidal poisoning drawbacks while allowing elemental limbs to retain normal descendant strength might be ideal. I'd also like to add that I appreciate that you're trying to fix the problem at hand, and that I totally get it. I'm just trying to offer some constructive criticism here as this is an area of lore I'm very passionate about and have worked a lot around. Hope my tone doesn't sound otherwise.

✵ FINIS TANTUM PRINCIPIUM ✵ The Wilds of the Cragenmarch c. 1870 It had been nearly three years since the Princess Imperial had disappeared to almost all that had known her. Doubtless, many by now likely thought that she was dead. Perhaps, she thought to herself, it was for the best. “Whoa, Eden!” She cried out to her stallion, an white warhorse which she had adopted several years prior. As a private in the Imperial Legion, she had adopted the finely bred creature after the passing of her own spotted horse in the midst of battle, also incidentally named Eden. It was a name which she used for all of her horses, to honor those which had come before and which were yet to come. Dismounting as they emerged from the forest, the lost princess hardly looked like a princess at all. She wore unassuming garments that not a soul would bat an eye at. A plain blouse, a pair of sturdy traveling boots, a hooded cape, and trousers. In lieu of a tiara she wore her trusty adventurer’s beret, an odd headpiece which she had found in the attic of the Augustine Palace decades prior. Catherine had always enjoyed the wilderness. During the war, she would seek to slip out of the city during rare moments of peace to see the beauty of nature. As a naturalist and an artist, she enjoyed sketching the animals of the wild and collecting specimens for her own personal collection. Not a week before, she had visited this very peak to sketch a live condor. For nearly a month prior, she had dedicated herself to speaking to, and earning the trust of, the local tribes in the Cragenmarch to locate the nest in question. It was a sacred bird to the people of the mountains. The trained physician had to spend ages healing the sick and the wounded through botanical and alchemical means before they would tell her of this place. Of course, the condors were gone now. Summer had come, and they had likely set out for the rigid hills of the Haeseni Lowlands until the next migration season. But the ruins she had previously explored still stood proudly nearby, a monument to a civilization long since extinct. It was here, in this most majestic of places, where the Princess Imperial had decided to seek solace. For having witnessed so much death and destruction, she found herself without the will to go on. In less than five years, she had lost almost everyone she had ever cared about. Her husband. Both of her parents. Arthur and Darya of Caermad. Laurentina… Laurentina. News of her suicide had been the breaking point. With her best friend’s departure from the world, everyone she had relied upon for support in her life had now since passed. The collapse of the Penton Ministry and her failure to save the Empire as Vice Chancellor had driven her into a shameful exile, but these successive deaths had also pummeled her once proud spirit into the depths of depression and hopelessness. Once an optimistic and cheerful woman, the Princess Imperial was now oftentimes a gloomy and dreary individual. To survive on the frontier, she had taken to trapping furs and playing ballands on her guitar for money. Occasionally, she would dispatch a monster or a restless spirit through means taught to her by Arthur of Caermad. And, of course, she continued to practice medicine, alchemy, and botany in her self-imposed exile. Many straps and pouches adorned Catherine’s person, most of which she took a good deal of time removing as she ascended the ruined cliffside tower. However, she did take a moment to retrieve her pipe and a parcel of herbs after securing Eden’s reins to a nearby tree. Ascending to the top, she sat with her legs crossed, staring out at the sunset. Night would fall soon but she felt no urgency to light a fire. Lighting her pipe, she began to partake of the herb. It was a relaxant which many of the natives used, one which she intended to try this night. Hours passed as she stared at the sunset quietly. When she had finished with her smoke, she rose to her feet, taking a deep breath as she extended her arms outward. For a moment, the lost princess considered jumping. The pain which she bore was too great. Her people, having splintered. Her closest friends, having perished. Perhaps Laury had the right idea… …Perhaps ending it all would just be for the best. A short tumble down the cliff, and the nightmare that was her life would be over. But Catherine never had the chance. Now thoroughly overcome by the herb’s effects, she simply fell onto her back, passing out in a blissful sleep which had eluded her for weeks. In her vision, Catherine found herself lying beneath an oak tree. Acorns were scattered about on the ground around herself, but the wood was bloodstained. It was the Lonely Tree, situated at the crossroads between Providence and Redenford. The site of a great battle where she had fought when she was naught but eighteen. “Rest well?” A figure next to her asked. He was a well toned man, a bearded fellow clad in armor characterized by dark steel with golden undertones. “I- Arthur?” She asked all of a sudden, her eyes widening with shock. “H-How…” “Don’t fool yourself, kid,” The Hexer, who had fallen over a decade prior, replied to Catherine in a simple yet stoic manner. “I’m still dead, so don’t get too excited.” “...Yes, I know that,” The princess, renown for her dedication to the empirical sciences, knew that this must be a dream. There was no other way to explain it. “Doubtless, you are a manifestation of some sort, a subconscious echo dwelling inside of my mind.” “Always the egghead,” Arthur chuckled, crossing her arms as he looked over to her. “I must say though, princess. I am disappointed that you would even consider ending it all. I thought you were stronger than that.” “I simply see no alternative,” Catherine replied with a sigh of defeat, staring out at the horizon. It was a familiar scene to her, the crossroads being a place she had traveled past many times prior. “They are all dead, Arthur. The country I once knew, the Empire, is gone. I am without a purpose or direction, caught in the duality of my own existence.” “So you wanna join us to get out of it, huh?” The slayer of monsters frowned a bit, his gaze unwavering. “It’s a shame that I didn’t have the option to run from my problems as you have from yours,” A female voice came from before her. “I died, in pursuit of my duty. For my obligations to my family. I did my best to bring them honor.” Snapping her head to the side, Catherine saw Laurentina standing before her. Her eyes widened, but the scientist knew that she was only a manifestation of her innermost thoughts. “We crossed an ocean in the pursuit of fulfilling ours,” The voice of the late Emperor, her father, came from another direction. She saw her mother standing nearby, who offered her daughter a stoic nod. “And I dedicated mine to the Hexer Creed, that you might aspire to a higher purpose,” Darya added, now found sitting beside Arthur on the grass. “I died a soldier’s death to protect the ones I loved,” Joseph, her late husband, stood dutifully near the deceased monarchs. Catherine’s eyes fluttered about the orchard. Everyone was there… For a moment, she forgot her rationality, tears filling her eyes. “I just d-don’t know if I can carry on…” She murmured. “...I- I have to run. You must understand, I have to! I might as well die otherwise!” “Then at least run in the right direction,” The Hexer spoke firmly, yet stoically. “Do you not remember the Gauntlet, princess?” Slowly, Catherine nodded. “You cannot simply give in every time you have been knocked prone,” Arthur grunted, continuing to stare at her. “I recall that you didn’t give up so easily then. You got straight up, and continued trying to cross it until you succeeded. I know that you have it in you to go on.” At this, she was silent. “And you must go on,” The manifestation of her swordsmanship instructor continued. “You still have a purpose in this world, Catherine. Ours have been realized, but your destiny is not yet at its end.” “We’ll be with you until it is,” Darya said quietly. “We promise, Cat. Forever and always…” Laurentina smiled in affirmation, extending her pinky finger forth in a manner characteristic of what her personality had been like in life. At that moment, Catherine awoke. Now lying beneath the starry sky of the Cragenmarch, her eyes fluttered open as she contemplated her existence. She considered the words that had come from within. It was true that all of her family, all of her friends, that had perished had died in the line of duty. Their ends had come prematurely, yet hers had not. She had chosen to run away instead. Finally, she sat upward. Catherine thought of her children, and as the faces of her son and daughters came to mind, the princess realized that she missed them. She wondered if Franz had become a promising young soldier yet, or if Anastasia had continued to finely hone her gift of artistry. Catherine wondered if her daughter Laurentina was still so energetic, or if Irene had grown any whittier and smarter. And then she thought of her siblings. The very thought of her brothers quarreling over the throne, and of Peter dying at Frederick’s hand, still continued to haunt her. She had raised each and every one of them, she loved them, and it was a pain which continuously tortured her very soul. Doubtless, the civil war had shattered her surviving family, and she was nowhere to be found to mend it back together. Catherine could only pray that Victoria had been able to pick up the pieces. Her disparate family would need her. Catherine knew now that this was her duty, her purpose. To be a light unto them, and unto her people. She was the last Princess Imperial of a fallen empire, and she stood for something. Rising once more, Catherine felt the grief and pain that she had been overcome by in recent weeks slowly fading away. She knew now that she wanted to go on. That although today was dreary, tomorrow would be better. At the coming of the morning sun, she would ride for civilization. If she was to die, she would do so with pride and dignity at God’s chosen time, preserving the tattered Tapestry of Mankind. And she would do it in the same spirit as those she held most dear.

Breaking my typical radio silence to say... Please don't do this. Speaking as a former LT who handled a lot of atronach and voidal lore for over an IRL year, this would basically render atronach limbs all but obsolete in practicality. Most of the people who seek them out are martial combatants who wouldn't use them under any circumstances if they incurred some form of voidal poisoning. I legitimately don't think that anyone, outside of the occasional mage, would use one in game if these redlines were adopted. Additionally, there is absolutely no reason that an atronach limb should poison an individual lore wise. The core which powers it is basically just an enchanted battery, operating off of the same principles as any other enchanted device would external to a person's biology. Keeping an enchantment on your person for an extended amount of time doesn't incur voidal poisoning, so why should an atronach limb? And even if you don't subscribe to the idea that atronach forging is an offshoot of alteration, atronach limbs operate entirely outside of the body, merely with proximity connection. They are indeed separate constructs, standing apart from a person's internal biology. So why should they afflict an individual with voidal poisoning? I'm sorry, but this proposed amendment just doesn't make any sense in my own humble opinion. If you're going to give atronach limbs a weakness, I think it should be something else that won't basically relegate the most useful and used aspect of atronach forging into IG obscurity.

IGN: Dixie_SerenadeDiscord: AndrewTech#1007Place, time (day or night scene), & angle (north, east, south, or west): Witten's End & the Ruins of Southbridge. View facing toward the direction of Southbridge from a northern angle.

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✵ The Tapestry is Never Unwoven ✵ An Ode to Humanity’s Spirit By the Wanderer of Westmarch c. 1869 Through the sweat of weavers many, Is knitted together a rich litany. Sometimes together and sometimes cloven, A Tapestry regardless is slowly woven. Adversity is never an easy plight, But it is an enemy mankind can fight By Sigismund’s wisdom, Godfrey’s might, Owyn’s sword and Horen’s light. Courage is found in the hearts of men, The quantity of which is without end. Be our hearts merry or be they frozen A Tapestry continues to be woven. Owyn’s kindred have hearts of flame, And Godwin’s daughters our arts maintain. Humanity’s spirit can never be rendered For the sons of Joren refuse to surrender. Of universal truths, there is but one, That all mankind is of Horen’s blood. No matter our destiny the fates have chosen, The Tapestry is never unwoven.

Why had life been so cruel to her? That very day, her best friend's town had been attacked. Being newly drafted into the Imperial Legion as a medic, she had rode out alongside her husband to Archisdorf's aid. Though they had won the day, her husband had been wounded. But, they had said that he would recover. Catherine had lingered with the Imperial Legion in Archisdorf for some time longer, before riding back to Providence that evening... Only to learn that her father had been mutilated by marauders. She spent the entire evening attending to her father's wounds by his bedside, unaware that her husband had been morally wounded. He was fine. She had seen to it that he was fine. Her colleagues had agreed that he would be fine. It was very late that evening when Catherine returned to Providence, her uniform bloodstained and her long, strawberry hair unkempt. Doubtless, the children had already been put to bed. She would not tell them of the horrors she had seen. And so, she entered her bedroom. "Joseph, I'm home..." She quietly said, her tired gaze training upon her husband. The Vice Chancellor was a busy woman, and it seemed that she had less and less time these days to spend with her family. Yet there was no response. "...Joseph?" She tried to get his attention again, her face turning pale as she started over to his bedside. But the blood... All that blood... She already knew what had befallen the brave warrior that had been her husband, whom had also been her loyal friend, companion, and one of her closest confidantes for so long. And she wept throughout the night, not leaving the bedside of her childhood friend on what had been the worst day of her life.

"I'm going to kill this 'Madame Verite' for spreading such blatant lies about you!" The Duchess of Westmarch remarks to her sister, tossing the flier away before continuing to practice the swordsmanship that Arthur of Caermad had so carefully taught her on a dummy in the courtyard of her family's keep. @Azie

Discord: AndrewTech#1007 Skin: The Duchess, The Princess Imperial Bid: 300 minas, 300 minas

Discord: AndrewTech#1007 Skin: The Duchess, The Princess Imperial Bid: 200 minas, 200 minas

While hot on the trail of the elusive Time Pig and attending to other matters in the far south, Elizabeth Brae would read the missive with a jealous frown. "Dammit to hell, I'll see the Nether freeze over before my OWN HUSBAND bestows the title of Miss Almaris upon another woman!" She growls, furiously scribbling something down on the back of a drumstick wrapper which she hands off to the infamous automaton owl which carries her mail. APPLICATION Name: Elizabeth Brae Race: Adunian Age: For the love of God don't make me write it... Gender: Female. At least, I hope for your sake. Does the Applicant waive any and all liability on behalf of the Eternal Lordship of Du Loc should they end up maimed, disfigured, disgraced, and/or murdered [Y/N]?: I think I did that when I agreed to marry you.