BenevolentManacles
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Posts posted by BenevolentManacles
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A lawyer points his finger angrily at his colleague, Leonard Skingaard, “Do you see this heinous scolding of the Empress, that she must answer this woman’s request? A direct appeal to the crown over such a thing as a man’s occupation, these are the sorts of disrespect to the Constitution that this Empire, and it’s governments, must shun and shame.”
He throws his hands in the air, clearly far too drunk, at his considered colleague,
“And furthermore, there are no employment laws! If they had the sense to appeal in court, there’d be no leg to stand on.”
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A lawyer picks apart the document, drunk and shouting at his colleague, Mr. Skingaard. He says mostly nonsense, though he points out, “They were expelled, they did not secede. Good riddance to such uneducated lots.”
Ed Selm proceeds to finish his drink and pass out on Skingaard’s dining table, uninvited.
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Philip drapes a red banner with a white star over the chapel in the Palace Novellen. He rests his hands at his sides, his wife seated on the nearby pew with their newborn Princess in her arms. He turns to his quiet wife, turning his head only, so as not to turn his back to the altar.
“His Holiness has put to paper the corruption of the realm, one which none before him could do. As our love of the republic grows, our respect for the Lord diminishes, and folk claim their inventions and advances in their own name in place of the Lord’s. It cannot go on, and it can be reconciled.”
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Edward Selm can be seen complaining day after day over this, telling a fellow barrister, “Who is this, this Marna, where we Selmites are Joseph’s progeny? Can we sue for their use of our name?”
He thumbs through the ORC, his brow furrowed. He coughs into his elbow before taking a sip of spring water.
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Nineteenth Imperial Diet, House of Lords, 1786
Having been elected as speaker from among those lords Their Imperial Majesties summoned to sit in the upper chamber of the eighteenth Imperial Diet, HIH The Duke of Crestfall takes the stand. As the other grandees find their seats in the marble tower of Novellen, he begins at once.
“Most esteemed lords,
Today we shall call to order the first sitting of the House of Lords in the nineteenth Imperial Diet. I shall now commence with the roll.”
A legislative clerk walks with his head lowered towards the Duke of Crestfall, providing him a scroll with the names of the attendees. He begins to recite them in order of the Emperor’s summons:
HIH The Duke of Crestfall @BenevolentManacles
His Grace The Duke of Sunholdt @erik0821
His Grace The Archbishop of Albarosa @Caranthir_
The Most Hon. The Marquess of Korstadt @Zanthuz
The Rt Hon. The Count of Metterden @AndrewTech
The Rt Hon. The Viscount Pruvia-Provins @Bawg
The Rt Hon. The Lord Mondstadt @Gusano
As our duty to be stewards of the order and law of the realm is a charge given by the Imperial Crown, but also beholden to God Almighty, let us begin with a prayer.
The Duke of Crestfall invites the present clergyman, The Archbishop of Albarosa, to lead the prayer scripted by His Holiness, James II.
“O God, we thank You for giving us another day.
We beseech You, bless the members of this House gathered here with the gifts of the Exalted: Horen’s mercy, Owyn’s purity, Godfrey’s justice, and Sigismund’s wisdom. Let that the Virtue should shine through them in the coming deliberations. You are the Most Merciful and the Most Wise: we pray that You keep our nation safe always.
May all that is done today be done for Your glory. Amen.”
With the conclusion of the prayer, the Duke of Crestfall proceeds.
“As is our obligation at the promulgation of every diet, each lord must recite the ancient Nauzican Oath of fealty to the Crown in order to sit.”
The Duke of Crestfall responds with an ‘Amen’ before he raises his hand as he stands before a lectern, imploring all of his colleagues to follow suit: at once the peers rise, as individual assistants scramble to provide their superiors with the proper paperwork. Once all were ready, they collectively spoke:
”I swear to be true to the Emperor and the realm and not to maintain silence about any evil that I may know which is being contemplated against them. I swear to work tirelessly to the betterment of the Empire and the Orenian people that comprise it. I swear also not to eat or drink with traitors and not to have anything in common with them, and always to defend the honor of the gentlemen I serve. This I swear by the Holy Scrolls.”
At the conclusion of the oath, the Duke of Crestfall laid forth the proceeding business of the House.
((This is a forum roleplay post, predominantly for absentee voting and session records. Only players with characters in the House of Lords are present in the room and able to reply.))
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Lieutenant Crestfall crosses his arms at the messenger who arrives to deliver him his summons, just in the middle of his drills.
He seizes the letter, squinting at it before stuffing it in his pocket.
“Right face,” he calls out mechanically as his mind races with how best he can use this position in service to God.
“March.”
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u put this in a roleplay section of the forum
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Edward Selm sweats profusely, the humid Helena unkind to his pores. He coughs into his hand a few times before collecting his various papers from the courtroom. He would not be working for free again.
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The Lieutenant takes an extra hour of prayer that evening for the fallen patriot. He signs the cross, likening the fallen Haraald’s dedication to the Empire akin to Captain Martin’s.
“Rest well, brother-in-arms.”
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Philip had barely spoken to his grandfather, but he had always felt his ever-gazing eye, weighing upon the young Prince’s shoulders. Philip stands, arms crossed, in the courtyard of the Novellen, before the bust of his now dead grandfather.
“I would say there will never be another like him,” he opines to George Kovachev at his flank, “But perhaps it is more right to hope for more like him, instead.”
Philip saluted the one-eyed philosopher’s stone form with a stone face to match.
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PERSONAL INFORMATION
Surname: Selm
First Name: Edward
Address of Residence: Barony of Selm
Age: 1758
Partisan Affiliation: Everardine
((Username: TangoIsPointless))
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
ELIGIBILITY QUESTIONNAIRE
Are you registered and eligible to vote in the Holy Orenian Empire? Have you filled out the census?
Yes.
Do you have any other title, peerage, or military assignment that may conflict with becoming a Member of the House of Commons, as per the Edict of Reform (1763)?
No.
If yes, do you understand that you will be required to resign or abdicate from this position should you be elected to the House of Commons, and if this does not occur your seat shall be considered to be vacant?:
Yes.
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((IGN)): TangoIsPointless
Name:
Rank: Sergeant
The Duke Crestfall prepares his hunting equipment and his trusty steed, Captain Martin. A collection of snares and whistles, along with a covered cage, hangs from his horse. This falcon might serve him here.
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Philip salutes the august statesman’s tenure.
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A Selm bastard shuffles his papers in preparation for the defense for Mary Ruthern. He adjusts his spectacles, thumbing through the O.R.C. in the early hours of the morning.
He mutters under his breath, sipping from his Sunholdt Spiced Red, “How silly that we family must squabble. We shall find an agreement, I think I’ve got it,” he lays his finger on a particular code, grinning, sure that he had an amicable arrangement formulated for the squabbling cousins.
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A solicitor not quite worth his salt begrudges the letter, turning to another solicitor in his employ,
“Sir, where has the education of nobility gone, where they think wills transcend the laws of the realm?”
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Imperial Union
In the rolling hills of Kaedrin, a Prince, a Gonfalonier, draped in a red banner with a ten-pointed star and his dress uniform, enters the Church.
There is no fanfare. No glory or pomp to the ceremony. Nearly none are in attendance, save for the clergy assembled to perform the union. Philip had insisted. He had told His Holiness, “No pomp will trick the Lord to think my union greater than another’s, it must be done in practice.”
Philip Augustus stands before the altar, beside His Holiness, James II. They exchange proud glances toward each other as the Prince’s bride and her giver enter the Church. The pews are silent, save for a few solem smiles from the small entourage in attendance.
His bride, Judith Helvets, had a small voice. Her rare demeanor was quiet, yet jubilant, enjoying even this small ceremony. A grin creeped across her face, a sign of this eternal jubilee, pushed to the surface by the holiness of the moment.
The two stood beside each other at the altar, the length of her dresses nearly tripping her as she reached the step. They were an affectionate pair, whose reverence for the Lord and His Ministry would be the guiding light of their union. In but a few words, they were wed, and with just as little fanfare as before, they departed as husband and wife.
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A crusader observes and contemplates the Epistle, his hand on his cheek. In the deep night, lit by candle, Philip kneels before his bed and signs the Lorraine, praying that this word reaches the ears of the people of Helena, and brings them closer to the Lord.
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A young man can be seen seated in the pews of the Chapel of Novellen, his hands clasped together in deep contemplation. This man, now dead, had done all he could to destroy Philip’s hubris. This Prince owed him for that. Philip signed the cross, and prayed for David’s soul.
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Philip’s personal aid writes a fake letter from Juliette to give to Philip, so he does not feel abused by his sister in forgetting him.
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Philip Augustus takes a moment to commend the directive and ambition, “Shall all legislators have such passion for their country.” The young Lieutenant turns to a fellow soldier and has a short conversation with them about the issue, before he sees Captain Othaman give him a stink eye.
“No politics.”
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A Thesis on the Crusader Spirit
Philip Augustus
“The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. He shall not be afraid of evil tidings, his heart is ready to hope in the Lord: His heart is ready, trusting in the Lord. His heart is established, he shall not be afraid until he see his desire upon his enemies.” (Proverbs 3:12-13)
In some deepest recess of my mind, I squalor with my pride. I consume myself with my righteousness, and dictate to myself how best my virtue is to make me part of the Lord, and Him a part of me.
The sand fills my boot, and I consider then how each step should be a labor. Fire on the mountain, and I contemplate how this fire may be righteous if it is the Lord’s fire, taken form in a trial of our spirit, of my spirit.
I wrap myself in an Angel’s banner, and this ethereal warmth becomes my home. The laughter of Novellen, and love of my people, my city, and my family fade away. I am consumed with my own righteousness. I am consumed by my pride. I am not chosen, I am a servant.
How best am I to raise the Lord’s sword and strike at the heart of His trials, or His foes? I must know no peace but sleep, where I clasp closely to the dreams where I can walk the paths that wind in the clouds, an endless staircase where the realms of the Lord are yet unknown. I create for myself the bond I have with the Lord in these dark hours, where the mortal realm has no eyes into these trials of the spirit.
I create for myself a bond with the Lord in the hours under the sun, with sand in my boots. Here the peace of sleep is ended, and the trials are endless and everlasting. The Lord will promise me his protection as I fight without remorse for His glory, till his machinations deem that I have done what He has asked of me, and my spirit, under the sun, finds the staircase I wander in my dreams.
I am resolute, and my spirit is unwavering, though it is also poisoned with sin. The Lord has given me doubt to doubt only me. The Lord has given me weakness, so I may fail only myself. The Lord has given me pride, to test my love for the Word of the Lord.
Ten points to the star on my chest, for the Godhead, and a red field, for our sacrifice. This is not a sign of favor, but a command. I am God’s soldier as much as the cobbler, and both our charges are mundane and worldly. The fire on the mountain is His trial as well, for though the cobbler has no sword, his spirit is at war with his pride, and we both find absolution through sacrifice.
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Philip Augustus can be seen at the corner of the Bastille’s assembly yard, draping a banner across his shield. He grins as the spirit of His good works flow into him, his hands shaking as he fixes the banner, and hefts the shield onto his arm. He steps before a line of Imperial State Army soldiers, and raises it high above his head, for all to see,
“Behold, the Lord gives us the aegis of His faith! So holy are we, to fight with His emblem! To be His crusaders!”
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IGN: TangoIsPointless
RP Name: Augustus Helena
Events: All three.
(If for team PVP) Team member: Aulune
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Philip Augustus closes his eyes in reverence for their holy struggle, and prays. They would commit to defending the Sultan and his people.
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Imperial 8.0 Build Showcase & Q&A Livestream
in Livestreams
Posted
Hello friends,
On October 9th at 6PM EST, we’ll be running a live stream. We’ll be going over the following.
This is a highly anticipated map considering how long we’ve been on Arcas, and the build team and leadership in Oren are very excited to start sharing what’s been put together. Everyone is welcome to come join us to take a close look at what we should be expecting come 8.0.
If anyone has any specific questions that they want answered about the city, the Empire, or the server in 8.0, please feel free to send me a message on the forums, discord, or reply to this thread and we’ll answer your questions during the stream.
We’ll be hosting the stream on my channel at https://www.twitch.tv/tangoispointless.
Big thanks to you all and especially to the builders and administrators making this possible.