Gaius ~ Sertorius Cagan

The Enclave has reached completion, the looming structure has already gathered curiosity as various people from Cecil Windseeker to Count Adam himself have come about to ponder on the hovel that was built stranger than fiction; the black sheep amongst the norm of House Green and Carrion's preferred way of architecture. The highest-most floor seems greatly inviting with the plethora of modestly-furnished beds, two sit upon the patio of the highest point of the Enclave and allows wayfarers to stop for earnest rest; no desire to put charges upon it. The Enclave is decorated with exquisite paintings upon the same floor, the ground level seems the simplest, with merely two long spruce tables adjacent windowed walls and the hall continues past the staircase towards a modest tree; curiously carved into it is bookcases au naturale containing books seemingly describing the Sophists. Sertorius sends a messenger with the advice to be simple in harkening the news of the Enclave rather than yelling uproariously and eliciting the annoyance of the town folks of Baile, New Ager, as well as the village under House Carrion. He advises the messenger to show respect and be able to respond to any questions from the townsfolk. [[Forum Thread: http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/85347-the-sophists-new-and-improved/ Anyone from those three settlements can ask questions and interact with said messenger]]

Sertorius lays a forefinger underneath the envelope where the insignia lies, the ink feeling heavy across the surface of said forefinger, he exclaims the exquisite lay of the imprint and sends the envelope back with a message scrawled on the back of the envelope. "Accepted" it reads, "such a fine handiwork you graced me to see at first sight would duly see that you become one of the Teaching Path. Come yonder to House Green, I may be awaiting there or merely the Count, Adam Green; can point you in the correct direction to the Enclave!"

Views the flier and looks demurred, he trifles for a moment through his roughened leather pocket and withdraws a rolled and flattened parchment and decides to slip it between the flier and the post. Inside, it reads: "Although you seem to have good intentions, intentions must be measured according to the reality of the given situation. Your attempting to vie against the VonSchlicten Company and that of one Toveah Goldman, your business will not be able to squeeze between two merchant giants and I advise you to think deeply on your idea. The Sophists see your name, the word harvest in particular and raise you a modest invitation to join our enclave. You may be one who sells the harvest, we do not differ in this light; but we admire your willingness to be people who toil."

Arik, there is a difference between difficulty of translation and 'over-stylized' and 'poor attempt to sounds philosophical' lol. I know two languages and can speak to this :P Just saying, don't engrandize the text to the point of sounding silly whilst intending to sound as wise as a limerick and adage-spitting sage.

[[seems you've skimmed over it, or perhaps the purpose is even deeper than what can be read ;) Why don't you give it a try, anyone can become a Sophist despite any other loyalties. Let me explain this finally, any loyalties you have to any person, group, or nation can be kept whilst being a Sophist. That is like saying a jester cannot still be an Elf or part of the White Roses.]]

You all are going to have to suck it up and don't puff out your lips when I say this, but.... Whoever has been writing these 'codes' up sound uber-cliche trying to sound very enigmatic. Stop trying and just write sensible sentences please

Sertorius stands and admires the jutting plateau from the edge of Baile, the town under Count Adam Green. It was not yet a full day since he had entered the Green Manor to acquire the land, a merciful grant was made in return of forfeiture of his house that he had purchased a mere month before. The plateau was as green as rolling fields, dotted by few spruce and pine and had a long, flat surface that caught his eye. The plateau was barely accessible, by a granite arch that stretched out from the canyon lips and provided an earthen path onto the plateau. Within a few days, the laboring of Sertorius Cagan found him reaching the peak of the plateau and working three straight days with bare minimums such as food and water sitting aside on the cliff overlooking the rushing rapids far below; those days he could have swore he had sweated a flood to wipe the canyon settlements clean. Scaffolding has been erected for safer walking along the stoic beams that shape the frame of the Oratory, he feels as if he is walking upon clouds with his legs adrift as the heights force him into a relentless working to completion of the Oratory; for no man would be foolish to look down such far depths and still his breathe and allow the experience to knock him from off his feet.

[[i can one up that Sufi assumption, watch me blossom :3]]

The drop looked momentous, the rapidity of the river looked enough to sweep him from his feet. Yet there he stood, his legs outstretched along the rim of the cliff; not too far from the rustic house he had purchased two weeks past from one Count Adam Green. His eyes flicker as he leans back from his rolled over state overlooking the river and hanging bridges below and he stares out towards the healthy tops of the canyon cliffs across from him; his elbow dug into moist dirt as he rests from a hard day of labor. That is what he knew, how to break sweat and produce from his spent time and physical effort something to show; the real outweighing the abstract. An aura seemed to be cast as he is joined by a man with a swarthy complexion. The man runs his gritty fingers through a long and narrow beard as he chuckles upon spooking Sertorius. The man greets him in native tongue, recognisable to Sertorius and they trade niceties. "Yoo' shawld' knaw' thawt' the Khagan is rawlin' in his grave" "Da? Yer' know I am ner' help ter' what plagues him within thar' scape af' drims. We banked from sail an' within few months, the spawn of the Four are pickin' fights and wallawin' in mud like male pigs try'na insist they defendin' honor of the she-pig. In the end, they all sire with tha' 'Urth. How can one man stop this?" "Tha' Khagan hawd' raised a Hurde' in tha' pawst', yoo' shawld' remembur' this! Howevur', it is no lawng'ur yoo'r place tew' thraw' yoo'r hand tew' tha' saddul' an' bridul', yoo' mawst' seek the inwawrd' path." With the last two words, Sertorius ***** an inquisitive brow towards the man bearing merely simple woolen pantaloons, a leather jerkin, and a mere spherical cap atop his shaggy and jet-black hair. They sit together in an odd state of conversation as night falls, the moon rising whilst they engage in terse terms concerning the 'inward path'. As the moon boomerangs to the opposite side from whence it rose, Sertorius stands from the compressed dirt that he laid upon and stares out into the stary horizon that embroiders the land in front of him. "Very well, yer' ter' tell me this may werk'?" The nomad, as imaginary as may have been, seemed to have placed within the heart of Sertorius some earnest knowledge. "Yoo' shawld' seek tew' persuade thaw' pee'pul tew' break ther' swards' intew' ploughhewks', seek tew' better tha' lives awf' tha' livin' rathur' than see haw' many can be subtracted by arru'gawnt' men. This is the path yoo' shawld' take." With that, the nomad turns on his heel and rotates his body with his head held low; upon doing so, his body dissipates. Sertorius dared not look back, but only closes his eyes. ~~~~~~~~~The Idea of the Sophists~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~The Sophisticated Path~~~~~~~~~ The Sophists are those who inspire to become cordial with all, enemy to none. The Sophists have recognized that through the passing of two worlds, people have shirked against the lessons that were obvious in both Aegis and Asulon. They recognise the futility of warring, they addiction towards the desire to own more, to rule more, to command more and compare it nicely to a toddler who endeavors to scoop sand towards them, only to have the sand spread out after a certain point. The Sophists set forth in three manners they deem beneficial: to spread information, to labor on behalf of people no matter their standing, and to build structures that have a function. The Three Paths of a Sophist 1. The path known by the phrase, "To sweat clay into my hands to mold" or simply refered to as "Work of the Sophist" is when Sophists head forth to different areas in Anthos; inspiring to help any sort of people, faction, or nation gather resources. The Sophist or group of Sophists endeavoring to take this path should be wise to ask within the request if they can keep a portion of the resources. It is frowned upon if a Sophist declares this path and works for a faction or nation that they are loyal to. If you as a Sophist request to work under a person or group who are not friendly to possible loyalties you have, you must not show anger; simply turn yourself away and look to seek the path elsewhere. 2. The path known by the phrase, "To turn out knowledge should null all secrets" or simply refered to as "Teaching of the Sophist" is when Sophists work together in a group to gather knowledge from different parts of Anthos and compose what can be called 'newspapers'. These 'newspapers' should inform denizens of Anthos about occurrances, but withhold personal business to individuals. The information to be composed into the newspaper should be written down and kept in safe-keeping. [OOC: Try to keep the information gathering to in-game book items, rather than relying solely on the forums to pass it around] 3. The path known by the phrase, "To raise a roof is to raise the soul" or simply refered to as "Building as a Sophist" is when Sophists work together to renovate or build structures that serve a function; even if that is to shelter people such as homes. Forges, stone-mills, pastures, and more can be idealized and built for any one person, faction, or nation. It is earnest to ask for pay for this, it is desired that a Sophist builds upon his own gathered resources; but can equally build with the helped person's own supply. [OOC: Even though a stone-mill for example doesnt have the best 'MC' function, it allows Rp to take place there and thus can be built. This thread lists quite a few improvements that can be ideally built throughout this path: http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/57941-system-of-land-control-and-improvements/?hl=levanthus] The Manners of a Sophist A Sophist is someone who seeks a philosophy that favors control over one's consciousness rather than to be manipulated into manners of ill behavior or killing. A Sophist is not a pacifist by any means, but are those who do not hearken to those who have good reason to push the Sophist into combat. A Sophist can be anyone whether a King of a peasant, he obeys an outside hierarchy if present, so if one of the Elves were to become a Sophist; they will support their government as a sign of cooperation rather than anarchic foolishness. The Sophists only hear to the words of the Tender who merely organises larger groups who collectively want to pursue any of the three paths; he is deemed intelligent to not group those who have antagonising loyalties [so no Orcs with Halflings, White Roses with Elfs]. Likewise, those who pursue the Teaching of the Sophist form a hierarchy of their own to organise the manner of releasing information to the public in the forms of official pamphlets. The Head Columnist will see to information being gathered into the final form for release to the public and interprets appropriate pricing. Seekers of News is simply a title given to those pursuing the Teaching Path and collect the information into dossiers [in-game writable books]. Rank and Application Tender: Sertorius Cagan [Gaiusmarius8] Head Columnist for Teaching Path: N/A Seekers of News: N/A