Pureimp10

((That art is so good)) Lukas gets to work writing bills banning wigs and converting their sheep hair into woolen coats for winter warfare.

leonardo dicaprio couldnt have done better if he tried

A VOICE FOR HAENSE Vote Lukas Rakoczy, 1774 A Fresh Face A newcomer to campaigning, Lukas has always taken an active role in the politics of the Empire. From attending campaign rallies to encouraging citizens to vote, he has bore witness to the rise of many Haeseni greats: Terrence May, Sir Konrad Stafyr. These great men have spent decades fighting for Haense in the Imperial Diet, but the time has come for a newer generation to take up the torch of leadership. A vote for Lukas is an investment in the next generation of leadership, one which will take Haense and the Empire to never-before-seen heights. Primary Issues A vote for Lukas guarantees focus in the following areas: Provincial Rights: Lukas Rakoczy SHALL work with provincial governments and the Imperial government to properly define the rights and obligations of provinces and royal vassals, a relationship which has always been problematically murky. In doing so, this shall allow for greater efficient internal governance, more government work in the provinces and greater political unity; Budget Balancing: Lukas Rakoczy SHALL work to balance the Imperial budget and cut unnecessary spending to halt the current push for increased taxation, instead obliging the Treasury to minimize their own spending before imposing additional taxes upon the hard-working people of our Empire; Haeseni Recovery: Lukas Rakoczy SHALL liaise closely with the Aulic Government of Hanseti-Ruska and the House of Commons to ensure the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska recovers quickly from the devastating Scyfling invasion by providing economic reliefs and aids to the lands most damaged and a naval initiative to rebuild the destroyed Haeseni fleet to secure our northern sea-borders; Employment: Lukas Rakoczy SHALL work to support non-governmental organizations (such as the Northern Geographical Society) in the advancement of science and to provide employment for the citizens of the Empire. VOTE LUKAS RAKOCZY | VOTE JOSEPHITE The Josephite Union For the Dignity of All Vote 2 Konstantin Wick Vote 3 Angelika Bykov

SURNAME: Rakoczy FIRST NAME: Lukas ADDRESS OF RESIDENCE: Kingsway 3, New Reza, Haense DATE OF BIRTH: 2nd Deep Cold, 1742 Are you registered and eligible to vote in the Holy Orenian Empire? Yes Do you have any other title, peerage or military service 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?: N/A ((MC NAME)): Pureimp10

The third First Mate of the HMS Maria Teresa Garcia Ramirez de Arroyo sheds a tear for his fallen captain.

reservation acquired

“Finally that damn piece of land is owned by our family again.” Otto Sigmar looked to his brothers, seated beside them in the Seven Skies. “I wonder what young Josef will do with his newfound responsibilities..”

Another messenger boy arrives at the office of the Speaker, setting a letter down on his desk. “Lord Speaker, I apologize for my absence. The Scyfling invasion of the coast of Valwyck has kept me preoccupied, as I’m sure you’re aware. I vote niet to the dissolution of the Barony.”

A courier enters the Speaker’s office, handing over a letter with the seal of House Stafyr. “Niet to the Prince Bishopric.”

Britannus Vanir joins Fiske in welcoming Henrik to the seven skies!

“Finest advocates I’ve ever seen,” commented Alaric Stafyr.

there have already been systems, player written systems, that have been used to rp firearms (though those people did get banned RIP yoppl and maly for your duel). these systems worked because they made sense irp, and can easily be moderated by anyone, players or gm team the “this can be powergamed to ****” argument can be applied to everything on this server. you can (and people do) powergame crossbows. you can (and people do) powergame magic and medicine and swordplay and armor and parkour and exhaustion, etc etc

THE LAST BROTHER Grand Prince Otto Sigmar, c. 1760 Portrait by Alaine Ferri Otto Sigmar stepped out of the Ekaterinburg Palace and looked up at the clouds, gray and high in the sky. A sure sign of rain to come later in the day. He limped his way to the city square, hoping to find a way to pass the time before he was forced inside from the rain. After taking a seat at one of the tables outside of the tavern, he looked around at all the people in the city, smiling to himself that joyful life had finally returned after the long Rubern War. “Gruncle Otto!” a high, unfamiliar voice called out. He turned his head in the direction of the voice but could see no one. He frowned, surely someone was attempting to play him. As he slowly sunk back into his daydream, he heard it again, “Gruncle Otto!” A frown formed along his lips as he again turned to the sound. It was a voice he had heard before, one he knew. Yet he couldn’t quite place it. As his eyes scanned the square, the mist from the rain-to-come congealed before him. With it, two young figures formed; as real to the man as his own flesh. As the youthful faces faded into view, their names returned to him. A young Aleksandra and Maya Alimar stood by the monument to Marius I, giggling and waving at him. “This is an illusion, some magical trick,” he thought to himself, though the vision reminded him of his younger days. He rubbed his eyes and the misty girls dissipated back into the air. He found himself alone again, resting for a time. “Is this seat taken?” “No, actually. Feel free to join m-” His words cut off as he saw who he had been speaking to. A strange woman clad in bright red sat down at the table, offering Otto a smile as she sipped from a glass of wine. He squinted at the woman. This time the figure was almost unrecognizable, foreign. Though she seemed a stranger, he knew he had met her before; another of the faces he had long since forgotten. Valentina, he realized. The woman frowned, noticing the man’s blank gaze. He reached out to touch her arm, to tell her he remembered, but no sooner had he extended his hand that she too disappeared into a wisp of vapor, much like the other two had. Otto rose to his feet and began to walk away from those lost to the memory of the old Alimar, rubbing his shoulder anxiously as he did so. As he stood, flashes of color whisked by him: red, blue, yellow. The triplets of Reza ran through the streets, laughing giddily as they played, and with them darted their cousin Adryana. He remembered them all, though only faintly. Seeing the colors themselves reminded him of the girls. “Amelya... Analiesa, Alexandria,” he recited quietly as he had so many times before. The names of those near-forgotten. He falters, attempting to remember the name of the final girl. “...Adryana,” he recalled after a moment, the lack of an assigned color causing him difficulty. Close behind them ran his sons, Godfric and Georg, their guardians, shouting out joyous complaints as the young girls ran. He’d named the boys after his own brothers, the two men he never thought he would have to live without. Yet they had been taken from him so many years ago, and all that remained was Otto’s memories of them. He called out to the children, though only one seemed to hear him. Young Amelya, the red princess, turned to face him, darting over. “Eja, Uncle Otto!” She smiled brightly at her beloved old uncle. She reached out, almost touching his sleeve to grab it as she always had done before briskly turning and sprinting to return to her game of chase. As she ran off after the already-fading figures, her body, too, began wavering in the breeze. He continued his walk, following the path the children had taken towards the front gate of the city. There stood a young, blonde woman, watching the energetic younglings with a smile. Otto squinted, attempting to make out the woman’s face before gasping breathily in surprise. His wife Ambrosia, who he had not seen for decades, called out to their sons, telling them to behave; to be careful with the children. He edged closer to the group of his raven-haired kin, hoping to embrace his long lost wife, but the closer he got, the more abstract the figures became. Though he attempted to resist the dissipating mist, his family disappeared around him, just as those before them had. He cried out sorrowfully as the stormy winds carried them off. As he lowered his gaze once again, he could faintly make out two figures through the fog, two men. He limped towards them, pausing just before the pair as they came together. There, amidst the vapor, stood his two brothers: Godfric and Georg, the two men that had never faded from his mind. Otto took a step forward, quickly drawing to a halt. He wouldn’t have these figures vanish at his touch too, and thus he planted his cane in the gravelly street. He looked across the small front-square, rubbing the fog from his spectacles as he looked his brothers over. Georg still had his red and black checkered overcoat and the spectacles that he had worn during his time as regent. Godfric was clad in his black studded armor; hands covered by dark leather gloves. They held out their hands to the man, beckoning for him to come to them. He hesitated, the fear of losing them again panged deep, but their extended arms were insistent and he was not one to deny. Though as he reached them, slowly taking their hands in each of his own, they did not disappear. “Go with us,” they seemed to say, their unforgotten voices echoing in his broken mind. And go he did. REQUIESCAT IN PACE Prinzen Otto Sigmar Barbanov-Alimar 1690 - 1764 Give not, yield not ((ty to miko