Proddy

A grizzled and experienced Hexer reflects upon his Path as he sits in meditation by the campfire in the vast and arid Kharasi Oasis. His trail had been no simple journey - filled with tribulation, sacrifice, loss, and horrors he was fated to endure. Yet he knew within his heart, the work he was doing was not only for the good of mankind but the world. He'd found a place he never could in his youth at the side of his comrades, a sense of belonging and purpose that had melded him into a loyal foot soldier in an endless war. An unruly street urchin summoned and thrust into a higher calling.

The fire before him crackles and roars with heat as Arthur tilts his head up to stare at the shimmering nights sky, the pale moonlight casting him a long shadow across those golden sands.

Silently, he wondered if humanity would remember his deeds long after his eventual death. He contemplated if the world would remember his name.

Within the modest halls of the Chateau d’Aubepine, little Fernand Pruvia would begin to hobble around on his own two feet with more confidence and conviction, now even clearly uttering words such as “Maman” and “Père”. The earliest of teachings for the future Imperial Peer and member of the next generation of Orenian were nigh complete.

The one year old heir apparent to the County of Provins, Fernand Antoine dribbles down his chin whilst he watches servants of the Chateau d'Aubepine gossip about the news of the Imperial Betrothal. Sinking into his highchair, the infant goes back to bashing two knight figurines together.

Fernand Pruvia sneezes in his cot as servants of the Chateau d'Aubepine iron his suit.

Fernand Antoine Pierre Pruvia wails endlessly within his crib. He possessed a fine set of lungs despite the prematurity of his birth, often waking up servants with his cries through sporadic times in the night.

Robert Foltest Helvets smirks from the Void, gladdened to see the resurgence of his countrymen’s identity at last - a mission he pursued in his ill fated life, yet failed tremendously.

A heartbroken and forlorn baseborn drinks himself into a conniption stupor, 'pon this day and for several days to come.

"It is a birthmark." frowns the Bastard of Adria as he read the pilot issue of the recently revived Petite Potins. Pallid fingertips grazing against his wine-stained mark with a sigh as he crumples up the paper and tosses it into a nearby bin. "What a load of rubbish."

The Hexer Arthur of Caermad grinds his whetsone against the edges of his slayersteel claymore Balmur, peering down at the bounty flier beside him.

Galloping full speed along Ostromir's Way, a lone Hexer known to the world as Arthur of Caermad pulls his mare to a halt as he sights the missive pinned upon a road sign. The beastfeller with tenure lofts his foot from the stirrup and hops down, ripping the parchment free and scanning over it. And then folding it up and stuffing it within his satchel, he returns to his saddle from whence he'd came. Riding off like the wind.

1 hour ago, SquakHawk said:

the two striga players r really hurt by this one 

i'm pleased i could could give you and ur 3 stiliti friends who never interact with the rest of the world outside of their own rp clique a good laugh buddy

imagine ST removing striga just for striga features and mechanics to be taken and implemented into their "new and improved" vampire lore lol

An unborn Pruvia chews upon a baguette.

MC Name:

         proddino

Character's Name:

         Arthur of Caermad

Character's Age:

         23

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Alchemy

Teacher's MC Name:

         Quantumatics

Teacher's RP Name:

         Edmond of Sava

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the feat? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yes

The scarred and vagrant looking Hexer Arthur of Caermad broods about the fire of the Hexers encampment, scratching some lice from his beard as he wonders if he might one day make for a pretty Empress.

“Edmond!” he hollers out for his mentor, arising to his feet as he begins to saddle his horse. “I’ve got to go to Providence for... somethin’.” @Quantumatics

6 minutes ago, Marquesa_ said:

Bogdana wondered why Beathas had a crippling drug addiction she could not shake.

 

The peasant then remembered a time when Beathas sent strange portraits of herself to her.

Beathas wonders if Bogdana will ever stop being weirdly obsessed with her and stalking her everywhere she goes. Yawning, the Baruch scion simply conclucdes that she must live within Bogdana's head... entirely rent free.

1 minute ago, Marquesa_ said:

Bogdana the Random Peasant had second hand embarrassment for Beathas.

Beathas decides to have Bogdana swiftly placed by government authorities into a mental asylum, afraid she might go on one of her schizophrenic tirades again.

William Trissingham seeks to hasten his military enlistment application, afraid he’ll miss out on all the glory.

"Okay." says Louis de Savoie

didn’t read it but nice one 

As he makes his preparations for army enlistment, William Trissingham comes across the missive. Sighing with shock and disbelief. "How could the vicar of God betray us?"

William Joseph Trissingham evaluates his calendar in an attempt to translate Stone Days between Saints Days. Smiling as he comes to the realisation that he will be of age to enlist in the Imperial State Army and join with the Emperors fury against the Dwarven excursion.

"For God, Empire and Country.." he murmurs to himself, gazing from the window of his chambers in the Carrington manor.

The odd, eccentric Duke of Drusco prepares for his wedding in haste.

A certain auburn-haired, grey eyed adolescent by the name of  William Joseph Trissingham would hear word of an upcoming festivity within the Empire during his voyage to Almaris from Aeldin. Holed up in his cabin as he awaits a passing storm, he stares into a small handmirror. Frowning self-consciously as his gaze centres upon the port wine stain birthmark etched upon his face.

That bejewelled, bedazzled Prince Louis of Drusco prepares his finer armaments of war - swords and arbalests all provided to him handily by his higher status and world in this bedevilling game of life. Turning to the mirror, the Duke gazes upon his own crooked reflection, adorned in ebony Ashford armour where the golden sun of Savoy glistens at his chest.

"Humanity falls to peril and the world turns to chaos. Such rampant and disgusting sin, death and flames will scourge the earth just as it has so many times before. I will bask in glory and triumph through every moment of it. Long live Philip III. Awaken Mihyaar."

Claiming his winged helm, he pushes it beneath his arm and paces out from his chambers. A new mission had begun.