Josh3738

"T' victory or death. Th' darkspawn will not be tolerated." Ser Alwyn would mutter as he stared at a selection of maps in the midst of a now bustling war room.

Ser Alwyn smiled on hearing of the commendation, also pleased that his aurum razor wire had done its job so well, and busied himself with the burning of the dead and the restoration of the city.

"Glad we're finally goin' t' deal with th' bastards. It's gettin' a bit obnoxious for th' grandkids t' have t' keep kickin' 'em out." The elder templar nods approvingly on seeing the missive before busying himself with shining his warhammer.

...for the road. [Tunes] The cliffside road was bathed in the rays of the setting sun, cutting through the thick curls of smoke that rose from the shrinking cigar in the old dwarf’s hand. His journey had been a long one thus far, his strength waning with each passing mile until he’d been forced to take a break on the side of the road. With an admittedly spectacular view, massive mountains cut through the clouds above him, dipping low into long valleys that stretched as far as the eye could see from his seated perch atop the roadside boulder. His mind began to wander again, reminiscing as he often did these days… Centuries had come and gone since the old man, a dwed well beyond his prime, had laid eyes upon the stonework of his kin. Yet he stepped between columns as familiar to him as those of Kal’Azgoth upon entering the Grand Kingdom once more. Through the gates of the dwarven capital, intricate patterns etched into imposing defenses were as much a home to him now as they were in the first days he stepped off the boat and joined Paragon Omithiel, then the Grand King. Even now, his first king’s memory echoed in the work of their descendents as a new age of dwed toiled to carve a life of prosperity from the earth itself. As dwarves had passed him in the street, there were few he recognized and even fewer he knew well enough to greet. Had he truly been gone so long that all of his friends and comrades were gone? With each dwed he knew and greeted, his words came at greater cost, the coughs that had tormented him for months growing stronger with every effort. He thought it wouldn’t be much longer when he departed the city, intent on making his way north to see his kin in Khron’Hundmar before he was finished. Even as he considered this, another wave of coughing racked his form, causing him to double over for a moment until the fit passed and he straightened once more. Flicking the spent cigar into the ravine, he considered how it wasn’t always this way. In his youth, he’d been a mighty warrior, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other legionnaires in matching, well-kept armor as he faced down orc, human, and demon alike on battlefields long since enshrined in legend. From the toppling of empires to the settling of grudges, the exploits of him and his kin, his friends, washed over him and a smile spread across his face as he thought to take pen to paper and begin writing a final letter, inspired by the setting sun. Though it would take many days to write, it was this letter that he’d press into the hands of one of the last Irongrinders, his son, as he said his final farewells in the halls of Khron’Hundmar. Sickness eating at him, the ancient dwed was led to a small chamber and made comfortable. With final instructions given and farewells said, he lay back in the bed with heavy eyelids, and silence greeted him as he drifted into his final sleep. From his limp grasp, a small, crystalline statue of a noble dwarf holding out his hand to a smaller dwarf, offering help, rolled onto the bed. Personally handed over by Darek or otherwise delivered, an envelope would make its way to a number of dwarves and friends of the old man. Within each would be a copy of the letter and a single cigar.

"A perfectly reasonable request." The knight says with an approving nod.

Somehow, somewhere an ancient dwarf manages to simultaneously roll over while in the Odin sleep AND give a thousand yard stare as someone tries for the umpteenth time to form the League of Nations. In Númendil, Ser Alwyn supports the wee folk in all their endeavors. "GOD bless 'em... There'd sooner be a bombin' at the meetin' than everyone agrees, but good on Cyris for tryin' I 'spose." Off he'd go to deliver the missive to the Tar regardless of his concerns.

"Good t' see th' dwarves deal fairly, as per usual of course." The Castellan utters approvingly.

"Quite a nice change of pace from barrow-divin' an' fightin' Mori." Says a proud grandfather.

Would you like to buy a book and quill?

Seems shitty to subject the longevity of their playtime and enjoyment to staff discretion in the name of good rp. The forums explode every time someone controversial gets banned, so I can guess what will happen if a raid group from a warring nation manages to snag an NL at 2am when nobody else was on and staff aim to enforce it. And given the gravity that a violent shift in leadership could have, it's either a) something folks will tear each other apart to do rply (maybe a good thing) and oocly (definitely a bad thing), b) something folks will actively do nonsense to avoid (alt, shadow gov's, etc. as some others suggest), or c) a combination of both (my bet). I understand the mentality that a good rp death should lead to a pk to have true consequences and dynamic rp for you and those around you. I also work and take courses most days, so when I can finally get on I'd like to play my character without worrying about staff taking that character away in the name of someone else's good rp and I'd imagine it's the same for some (perhaps not all) of the current NLs. The same could be said for future NLs. I don't see many folks aspiring to be NL with a serious character if they can just get pk'd 10 minutes after they're crowned.

NATIONAL BANK OF NÚMENDIL Treasury of the Númenedain, Est. 131 SA National Bank of Númendil Established as the Office of the Castellan, the National Bank of Númendil has served as the treasury of the Númenedain since 110 SA and the founding of the small settlement of Barrowton. The institution would formally institutionalize and assume the moniker of the National Bank of Númendil upon the founding of the city of Númenost, and it would further assume all taxation and associated duties for the Exilic Kingdom of Númendil at the charge of His Grace, Tar-Númenatar. Office of the Castellan Castellan of Númendil As chief officer for the bank, the Castellan is responsible for organizing the collection and appropriation of taxes from the general populace and tribute from vassal lords. The Castellan shall also oversee the distribution of property and keys accordingly. Stewards of Númendil The Stewards are responsible for the sale and management of stalls, homes, and other properties to parties seeking to purchase them in the absence of the Castellan. The Númenedainic Castar The Castar is the primary currency minted by the bank, represented by coins of pure silver from the mines of Alkayaban. Castars are used by the bank to certify tax payment [See Taxation of Numenost Properties for details]. Additionally, the purchase and return of castars (or other bank-minted denominations) to the bank serves to assist citizens of the kingdom in shielding their hard-earned wealth from the taxations of central mina banking. Current Transfer Rate: 1 Castar = 20 Mina 1 Mirian = 100 Mina Current Tax Rate: Númenost City Homes = 2 Castar Stalls = 1 Castar Steadfast Farmsteads = 1 Castar Steadfast Barns = 1 Castar & 1 Stack Leather Taxation of Númenost Properties Taxes shall be collected in Númendilic Castars or other specified supplies deposited into the appropriate boxes in the National Bank of Númendil [Located on the north end of Numenost]. This shall occur every Saint’s week ((Wednesdays by 5pm EST)). Failure to Pay Taxes Failure to pay taxes will earn citizens a strike which will be tallied in both the tax ledger and on the tax box for the property. Three strikes will result in the owner being evicted and any strikes will be removed upon payment. Citizens MAY pay multiple weeks at once if they are making up multiple strikes. nil sine labore, Ser Alwyn II of House Glennmaer, Castellan of Númendil Ser Adrielle of House Thassion, Steward of Númendil Saoren of House Seregon, Steward of Númendil Dele of House Seregon, Steward of Númendil

@Cpt_Noobman I hope this is covered in the next Safety Team update

The Undoing of Redclyf 21st of Snow’s Maiden, 130 SA “With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall.” Today, we celebrate an extraordinary victory achieved by the united forces of the Loyal, Good, Brave, Triumphant, and Qualified peoples of Failor. Setting aside our differences in religion, race, and creed, we have come together under a just cause to confront the menace that threatened our peaceful land—the notorious Redclyf bandits. Through unwavering determination and unparalleled bravery, our coalition warriors launched five triumphant raids on their formidable fortress, dealing a decisive blow to their criminal activities. In the early hours of the morning, the collective might of our courageous warriors descended upon the heart of the Redclyf stronghold. After a brief chase, the indomitable spirit of our united forces prevailed, leading to the capture of a ruthless Redclyf brigand, chancellor Adaranth. Bound by the chains of justice, Adaranth faced the consequences of his malevolent actions against our people. With justice served, our coalition warriors devised a powerful symbol to forever remember the crimes committed by the Redclyf bandits. Adaranth was compelled to sign a letter of confession onto a large wooden cross, symbolizing the weight of his transgressions. This symbolic cross, laden with truth and justice, shall be carried from settlement to settlement throughout Failor, serving as a testament to our triumph over evil and a warning to those who dare threaten our way of life. The significance of this victory extends far beyond the capture of a single criminal mastermind. It is a testament to the power of unity, the strength of diversity, and the unbreakable bond that unites us as the peoples of Failor. In the face of adversity, we have proven that when we stand together, we are unstoppable. We extend our deepest gratitude to the brave warriors who fearlessly fought on the front lines, risking their lives to ensure our collective safety. Their unwavering commitment to justice and their unwavering dedication to our shared cause are unparalleled. Their heroism shall forever be etched in the annals of Failor's history. Today, we stand tall as a united community, forever changed by our joint struggle and shared triumph. As we continue to rebuild and strengthen our land, let us remember the power of unity and the unstoppable force we become when we set aside our differences in pursuit of a just cause. Together, we shall prevail! To any Redclyf bandits who remain within these lands, you have been granted an opportunity for mercy and justice. We extend this gracious offer to these individuals, urging them to surrender themselves and face the consequences of their crimes. This is a chance for repentance and redemption, as we seek only to instill fairness and order within the realm. Those who choose to surrender will be granted a merciful hearing where their crimes shall be weighed and a just punishment determined. However, let it be known that those who refuse this benevolent offer shall continue to face dire consequences. The forces of Failor, unwavering in their duty, shall take necessary measures to ensure that the bandits are held accountable for their actions. They shall be pursued relentlessly and, if apprehended, they will be dealt with accordingly.