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Porko

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    Imperial Citizenship

    in Axios Roleplay Archive

    Posted

    IMPERIAL CITIZENSHIP FORM

     

    Name ((OOC Name)): Athirius ((SavoyCuck))

    Surname/House: Roke

    Date of Birth ((Example: 11th of Sun’s Smile, 1520)): 2nd of Sun's Smile, 1552

    Gender: Male

    Race: Human

    Citizenship Class (A or B): B

     

    Physical Description

     

    Height: 5'9

    Weight: 152

    Eye Color: Green

    Hair Color: Blonde

    Skin Color/Shade: White

    Outstanding Markings/Tattoos: N/A

     

    Personal Information

     

    Home Address (Leave blank if unknown): 

    Region of Residence (Leave blank if unknown):

    Profession/Occupation: Lumberjack, Soldier

    Have you paid your processing fee (CLASS A CITIZENS ONLY!): N/A

     

     

    Oath(s) of Loyalty

     

    For all classes of Citizenship (fill your name in the blanks):

     

    "I, Athirius, hereby swear my loyalty to the Emperor of the Holy Orenian Empire entirely by my free will. I swear to read and obey the laws of the Empire and understand the punishments and penalties that will be incurred should I violate the law."

    0

    The Larian Regiment

    in Inactive Guilds

    Posted

    God-Given (OOC) Information:

    Skype: You already have it :J

    MC Name: SavoyCuck
    Do you use TS3 (Y/N): yeet

    Chosen (RP) Information:

    Name: Athirius Roke

    Are you Elf or Man or Neither (E/M/N): Man

    Age: 16

    Weapon of Sufficient Ability: Sword

    Do you possess a steed (Y/N): No :'(

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    Upheaval

    in Vailor Roleplay Archive

    Posted

     

     

     

    “John, you’re a syphilitic prick and I’m going to off you like one.”

     

    Harsh words escaped Emery’s lips, axe brandished in an act of brazen defiance. His digits curled tightly around his weapon’s hilt, pale orbs narrowed at the tight formation of the opposing guard. Behind the shield wall sat the aforementioned John, Holy Emperor of Oren, placid as tensions ran hot. Despite the firm statements, bold actions of the savoyard knight, his form trembled. Emery’s grip was constantly reaffirmed, adjusted as the two sides bickered. John stared down the rebellious assemblance, the stormy gaze of Elias de Savoie meeting the Emperor’s. As Emery’s head turned to view his comrades, he found Ser Aymer and the men of Riveryn, ragtag but steadfast beside their liege. Only fourty years were shared between the former squire of Denis de Bar and the Grand Prince of Savoy, but the time had hardened them, formed them into true men. Yet against the highest figure of the Empire, Emery couldn’t help himself from feeling the fear of youth, of facing responsibility. But choice was never a factor.

     

    As his liege surged forth, Emery’s axe was brought skywards, slicing down to crash against the shields of the Felsen guard. Splinters flew into the sky, the dull rasping of steel on steel reverberating from the source of the conflict. The savoyards threw themselves against the shield wall, Emperor’s men falling back at the sheer bravery of the charge. As the battle progressed, however, the victors made themselves clear. Outnumbering and out-equipping the opposition, the Felsen guard slew unprepared savoyard after unprepared savoyard, the initial advantage unapparent due to the result. Soon Emery lay battered, broken on the rich carpets of the Imperial palace, a proud horenite guard hovering above his bruised form. The guard grasped the beaten youth’s arms, bringing them backwards to place cold shackles around his wrists. Emery’s breaths were ragged, the knight offering no resistance as he was restrained, and raised to his feet.

     

    A quick glance around the hall reaffirmed the situation- slaughter. The bodies of fallen savoyards littered the floor, Aymer and Elias apprehended in a similar manner. His capturer stood idle, however, with an expression of slight confusion. “What’s to be done with this one?” the guard inquired, glancing towards the Emperor. John paced about the blood-stained hall, pivoting to avoid the growing pools of crimson before craning his head to respond.

     

    “Take his head- his name’s of no high regard.”

     

    A nod was offered in return to the grim answer, a firm hand planted on Emery’s back to make him bend. The savoyard knight landed on his knees, teeth gritted as he lowered his head. The guard Mylas gripped his sword with an eager look, approaching the youth with eyes set upon his exposed neck. Glancing through the ambling guards and growing crowd of shocked onlookers, the Grand Prince found the subdued Emery. The pair shared a strange stare, Emery’s expression one of slight fear in contrast to the stoic Elias. “Hold strong, Emery.” The Ashford offered a firm uttering through his bloodied face, Mylas’ blade now angled to strike. With his execution imminent, worries and thoughts whirred about the young knight’s mind. Yet he found strength in this chaos. With an oddly cheery grin flashed towards Elias, Emery spent his last moment. Then the sword came down.

     

    30

    The Latest Warclaim

    in Vailor OOC Archive

    Posted

    9 minutes ago, ❆♉❆Ҟђӫᶑʋᵲẵ❆♉❆ said:

    When the Dwarves lose they take it and say maybe next time.

    When Oren loses they make many posts on why the gm's and warclaim layout are at fault and should be changed.

     

    Aren't you currently permabanned for cybering rape?

    3

    The Latest Warclaim

    in Vailor OOC Archive

    Posted

    We had to break over a 20 block span of cactus on an open field without being able to place barricades or tunnel. All the while, dwarves rained hell down upon us with obviously duped explosive arrows. We weren't allowed to run over the cacti, and Cosmic actually banned iMattyz for suggesting putting out some of the fires caused by dwarven potions with water. Oren can defeat the dwarves, we simply can't win against the staff :)

     

    OH and the time limit. That made perfect logical sense.

    0

    The First Felsen Mayoral Election

    in Vailor Roleplay Archive

    Posted

    On 1/13/2016 at 8:18 PM, Jonificus said:

    Name: Mithius Dalma

    Age: 220

    Qualifications: Several years of stewardry in different cities and townships of Oren. Held council positions alongside nobles and commoners alike. Competent, charismatic and corpulent. Tried and tested merchant, a decent businessman !

    Any notable sponsors: His Excellency Duke Arthur Roswell of Istria, His Right Honorable Count Adrian de Bar of Drusco

    A sheet of parchment bearing a simple painting would find it's way into the streets of Felsen, pinned to walls and posts alike. 

     

    M0eCm1n.png

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