Malgonious

Great work!

The only traitor I see is you, remarked a disgruntled Rurikid. The Edvards continue to plague our lineage, born of serpent and snakes... one day the Eirikssons will return and that will be your judgement. The Freyssons will be redeemed.

The Seventh Sons clap excitedly as news spread of this happening! "oh boy oh boy!"

Yury as his forces are slaughtered in the river and atop the Bridge to Adria 14th of Snow Maiden, 1711 ᚾ The Seventh Sons ᚾ “Vengeance for Adria, Blood for Halfdan.” With the death of Halfdan the Seventh Sons were left feeling intense sorrow, having been massacred by a retinue of four thousand to one. The men began to rally among the ruins of Adria, gathering up bannermen from the nearby Reivers and other fellow bandits to take the Empire as they gathered in Helena. Forging forth, Haakon ordered the men to charge the retinue that held the borders under tight lock-down, the Bloody Bridge, as it would be dubbed from this day onward. Haakon scouted the area well, his men ready to get blood for the butchering of the Adrians. “BLOOD FOR HALFDAN,” a chant would be heard. As they charged the gathered party, they would see the banners of Yury Horen. With all the events to concern the Empire of Man as of late, this man would be a rising star among the Heartlanders. It would seem his legendary long arm was spoken about across the realm, some of the Seventh Sons were frightened, but not Haakon. He reassured his men as they approached the base of the bridge, the Imperials preparing to hold their ground. “The Will of Adria is behind us, charge men! DO NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE HIS HEAD!” The battle to ensue would be a complete crushing of the defending party, Yury himself being drowned in the river by a random Seventh Son who apparently had something to prove. The forces gathered back up, they would haul off all their loot gained in massive wheel barrows, thanking the Empire for yet another victory

claimed

Doran would avidly promote the new establishment among his court, sending news to his allies and brothers alike of it's creation.

Bjorn, Edvard, Scran and Sven’s arrival to Rhewengrad ᚾ The Ashborn ᚾ Index: I The Ashborn II The Eras of Norlandic Armies a The Age of Heros b The Founding c The Wars of Liberation d The Highrock Era e Of Men and Moors f The Splintering g The Dawn III The hierarchies of Ashborn a The Flameborn b The Hearthborn IV The traditions and rituals of The Ashborn a High Rituals b Daily Affairs V The Knights of The Rising Sun VI Honours, Awards and Titles of the Ashborn VII The Ashborn Armoury a The Flameborn b The Hearthborn VIII The Honoured Dead IX Faith and the Ashborn X Recruitment Slip I Ashborn Ashguard upon the Second Siege of the Krag “All men to Ash”, these are the words of the Ashborn. A phrase that recognizes the brevity of life, that all men must die, whilst recalling the heritage of the Norlandic man at war. It is that brevity, that short and terrible sprint from birth to death that gives life its meaning. Every second is precious, every breath is finite. But can one live if they have nothing for which they are willing to die? Or are they simply bipedal cattle marching, nay plodding towards the slaughterhouse as time withers their flesh. This is the philosophy of the Ashborn, if all sons of the Ashtree live as flames and are destined to return to Ash. Then they must live well, being constantly reminded of their own mortality. That their God, and their people expect them, to a man to die well. II The Era of Norlandic Armies Javier Ruric leads the shield-wall at the battle of the Bloody Road The Age of Heros The Founding The Wars of Liberation The Highrock Era Of Men and Moors The Splintering The Dawn III The Hierarchies of Ashborn Avalon Silversteed rallies his bannermen towards the Ashguard’s forward flank The Flameborn (Officers/Descendants of Ancient Clans) The Prince Heroic For there cannot be unity without strength from the top down, you are what binds this Principality securely together. From your order, you guide the hearts and minds of the Champions, Ashguard, Shield-brothers and Fresh Meat that should dare rise to bear standard. Heed council from the other two, for you are only one. The Prince has requested you answer the call. Hero of Horse Your actions will determine the course of these trials ahead. With every new age, there becomes a time for great fire to burn within the heresy that lies unchecked. Your forces shall be the bulwark of assail, you will deter and counter those that would harm the Shield. For you are the Horse, and your speed is unmatched. Hero of Faith In the darkest hours we turn to you, our champion of light, for guidance. You will show the way through the cold, through the midnight air that will bring us forward unto dawn. By the All-father’s word, we carry out your will. Hero of Shield You are all that stands between order and chaos. By your towering shield, by your graceful command, we shall be delivered from damnation. While the Horse and Faith shall clear the way for our victory, your rallying spirit is what will push the forward will of our people onward. Carry the courage high. Heroic Descendant You are young and have much to see of this world. For some reason, you are chosen with descent from some of our mightiest heroes. For this reason, your blood will be protected and assumed paramount to those who can defend our realm in your stead. You will train under a Champion and ensure your knowledge, skill, and abilities are honed to the highest caliber. The Hearthborn (Military Central) Champion You are a hero. You have clawed your way, tooth and nail to survive this long. A bright beacon of idealism for your people to look towards, you have been honored with the acknowledgement of all your peers and the Prince himself. Rise up, your men await your command Champion. Ashguard Like the leader of a pack of wolves, you have fought tooth and nail to make your way to the top. You are a seasoned fighter, and the flame that resides within you will not be extinguished easily. Your brothers look to you for guidance and courage, do not fail them. Shield-brother I have spent my life searching for the answers that my father, and my father’s father failed to find. Who were our ancestors? What was their purpose and why did they vanish? I have asked the plants, but they do not remember. The plants have asked the rocks, but the rocks do not recall.. Even the rocks, do not recall. Every bone in my body tells me the answer rests on the shoulders of each of my brothers as I stand in the shield-wall, our lives in each others hands. We will face destiny. Fresh Meat / Recruit For every age, there is a time of trial. The rocks faced such a fire before they were the strength before our feet. The plants braved vast winds before they were the roots, to bring us life. For you, young norlander, it begins today. The rocks sung of an age of your people long past. The fires of your clansmen churn once more, the power of the All-father growing as you raise your shield and draw your sword. You are fresh meat, Recruit. Prove yourself worthy of legacy. Special Ranks Armourer Your steel and will are forged with every hammer that strikes the metal you create. You will be the bulwark of defense between every man woman and babe that will done your protective shell when war comes. You are an Armourer, and your life will bring shelter to others. Stablemaster The Horse demands stable supply of fresh steeds to guide his warriors forward. You play a critical role in our peoples survival, the horse had always provided what we lacked in speed the weapon to crush our enemies. The mighty beasts you shall bring forward will be unmatched by any before, hone your skill and breed your weapon. Drill Sergeant Without you warriors would be left dazed and confused on the battlefield. You drill the law of the battlefield into young warriors minds; forming and shaping them into the cold-blooded killers they are expected to be. For others, blades are the weapon; for you, the soldiers you train. Steel them well. List of active fist(s): TBD – Sunday 1pm est Application to join a Fist (Copy and paste this in a response after the moot.) RP Information RP Name: Desired fist: OOC Information MCName: Discord(Include #’s): IV The traditions and rituals of The Ashborn The calm serene of the Ashtree upon the Krag High Rituals Funerals Initiations Blessings Bestowing of Awards Battle Rituals During the times of late Nordengrad the High Keeper, Rae Arden, had bestowed blessings from the Paragons and the Allfather himself unto the soldiers of Nordengrad for the coming Siege. Only priests and purifiers of the sacred Brotherhood of the Red Faith can perform such rituals with their holy Flamebrand. A select few of such rituals: Blessings to the wounded The Allfather’s blade Blessings of the dead Thoromir’s Shield Purification of the Corrupted Daily Affairs Patrol Drill Maintenance Guard “Thus his coming is as that of the rising sun.” ~Norlandic Proverb Red Scroll [2] The Ashen Code Warriors of the Ashborn are required to follow the Ashen Code, a series of rules that magistrate the members of the Ashborn. The Rules that all members MUST obey. Breaking these rules shall result in lashes or any other type of punishment deemed by the Champion of your fist, or the Prince himself. TENET I TENET II TENET III TENET IV TENET V TENET VI V The Knights of the Rising Sun The Knights of the Rising Sun painted by Doran Ruric Upon the rise of the sea and the founding of Vilachia, an ancient order is called upon by the Red Faith and Prince himself. The Ashknight of age past are summoned once more to take their vows for the safeguard of the Red Scroll: The Dawn. These are our finest men and women ever to cultivate of our flock rising through the trials and ranks to receive the privilege of joining this order. Like the rising sun, these men and women will bear a tabard of the orange sun with a flaming field across it a symbol of hope to those they stand beside in the Ashborn. -A Knight of the Rising Sun, 1710 VI Honours, Awards and Titles of the Ashborn Honours and Awards Ashmark Order of Arthas (holy service / conduct) Red Ribbon of Service (one year service in wartime) Blue Ribbon of Service (five year service in wartime) Black Medal (wounded in battle) Veteran’s Medal (served in a prior Norlandic army) Order of Donovan (success in battle despite overwhelming, nigh-suicidal odds) Staunton’s Medal (cowardice / oath breaking) Comes with stab wound Chef’s Medal (scream ‘we’re cooking’ before battle) Edvard’s Medal (scream Iron from Ice before battle) Keatonic Ribbon (loot goblin the **** out of your team) Honorary Badge (fought alongside us time and time again) Title Bloodied You have taken blood. The life of another’s was taken by your hands and with that you have gained the title of Bloodied, for you are not a boy anymore. You have become a man. Keeper of Peace You have defended a raid successfully. An attempt at obstructing the peace within our boundaries was stopped by your hand. Smile, for the lives of many citizens have been spared because of you. Herald of War You have recruited a mass of at least ten people to the Ashborn ranks. With your hand alone you may have changed the fate of a future battle, congratulations. You have also served to help save future generations of our great people. Bjorn’s Warrior You have been able to best a group of three well trained fighters by your lonesome. Battle Hardened and skillful, you are brimming with refined talent like Bjorn Ashtyr himself. Master Chef You are the a true chef that screams “We’re cooking” at most of the battles that you are a part of. This is one of the most prestigious titles in all the land. VII The Ashborn Armoury The Ashborn Standard Fresh Meat / Recruit This is the basic issue uniform given to those that join the Shield, Faith or Horse. Until you have proven yourself to become Shield-brother, you will not be allowed access further into this Armoury. Contact your fist’s Ashguard or Champion if you wish for further access. Shield-brothers You are now allowed to choose between two armour variants forged by our Armourers in the Ashforge. You may choose the lighter leather skirmisher (first one) or the heavy platemail brute variant (second one). You may not wear the helmet of the Ashguard or Champion at this stage, but may wear others from slain foes, or past trials completed. Ashguard You have risen up as one of the finest warriors of your fist, granted access to the highest caliber of platemail the Ashforge allows for the standard military. These helmets have the ability to withstand multiple bolts of arrow fire before cracking or even denting. The ancient plate was ceremonially blessed before your receiving by the Hero of Faith, meaning the All-father has smiled upon you. Champion https://i.imgur.com/rJWQSPk.png The All-Father’s Seal TBA Knights of the Rising Sun Vault TBA Armor and Weapons of Myth VIII The Honoured Dead Eirik, Hakon, Thoromir I, Godden, Javier, Adalwulf, Avalon, William, Ethan, Rae, Kjartan, Arthas, Torsten, Thoromir II, Donovan, Rodrik, Uther, Jevan, Sven, Thomas, Edvard, Atturi, Hannah, Dan, Umbra, (more to be added) Deceased Norlander Application (Copy and paste this in a response thread to have it added to the board) Name: Accomplishments: Age of Life: Military service/engagements: IX Faith and The Ashborn The Ashborn must all be adorned by a Keeper of the Red Faith, for without the All-father’s blessings we shall not prevail against the dark. With these blessings also comes access to the artifacts of the ancient religion, brought forth from the Fires of Seahelm these weapons were recovered by Doran, “The Explorer,” Ruric on 1701 upon his arrival to Arcas, meeting the legendary Bunny Volaren who bestowed upon him the Seal of the All-Father. With this, Doran had the last remaining artifact cache from Avar who then gave it to his Heroes to distribute to the fists for their strongest warriors. X Recruitment Slip The founding of Vilachia, 1709 (Copy and paste the information in the box into a response to this thread.) RP Information RP Name: Race: Age: Referred By: OOC Information MCName: Discord(Include #’s): First Moot to be held 4/7/2019 – 1pm est

1709 The Principality of Vilachia is found Doran, “The Explorer,” Ruric and his brothers arrived in a land that reminded them of home. They named this land, “Vilachia,” translating from ancient norlandic as Land of Fable. The three displaced young men hefted their cloaks and banners of red and black as they transcended the crags of the island. Alvar hefted his shield over his left shoulder, his axe dangling against his belt with each step he took. “Brother, how much further must we heft this package?” Alvar grunted as he tugged the large chest onward, his side dripping considerably lower to Ulfar on the opposite side. “Alvar, pick your side up I’m not carrying extra,” Ulfar would grunt as he tugged up the hillside, finally setting it down as Doran raised his hand. The gaze was beautiful as they stopped to take in the magnificent land. Cassio would offer a smile as he looked around at the small land they had put together, their last things finally moved in. Doran would be seen opening the large cache of supplies they had lugged all the way from the Cloud Temple. “What could be in this damned thing that makes it so heavy?” Alvar would bark as he looked down, the lid slowly removed from the top of the cache as Doran set it aside, his hands reaching into the casket of goods. A sturdy bound leather satchel was removed, the shape of a elongated cylinder as it was laid down on the grass before them.“Grab the table Ulvar, Alvar.” Doran would state, standing the scroll upright as the table is brought forth, setting the massive object down as he uncapped the scroll’s lid, taking the ancient parchment out. His digits would slowly unwind the paper against the oak wood table, the contents open for all to see. Ulvar, Alvar, and Cassio all looked over what was laid before them, just as they had begun to read, a figure appeared before them removing his black hood as they became alert to his presence. “I am Aeyn Vissman and I’ve come for the moot. Shall we begin?” 4/7/2019 - 1pm EST

Doran Ruric signs the document.

I can appreciate the hustle, good work.

Doran Ruric gives two thumbs up. “Best choice yet.”

4th of the First Seed, 1709 The Moesgård Moot Dark have the days been since our people’s fall so long ago on the plains of Atlas, befallen to a string of weak kings and petty disputes among our brothers and sisters. No longer shall such a fate bely our people, no more will we toil the fields as men bound to the manifest destiny of our forefathers. No longer will we suffer at the hands of the Heartlanders who seek to ensnare the flames that burn within each of your hearts. No longer will we stand idle as our name is dragged through the mud twigs and rocks of an age long past. No longer. I, Doran Ruric, son of Orvar Ruric the First, declare the site of Moesgård to be the holding point for our first moot in this realm known as Arcas. Some of my men will personally deliver handwritten invitations to you, but any Norlander is welcome at this affair. Scribed below are the talking points of our agenda; The Settlement of the Norlandic People(s) The Norlandic People(s), since the fall of Nordengrad upon Atlas have been left displaced and disparaged. This moot will stand to give each man woman and babe a place to call their own home. Concluding this meeting you will be receiving a land grant to farm for and settle your families should you attend. You will be required to list your name and service yourself into the Norskan Senate, an attempt to allow our working-class a voice into the politics of the realm. This senate will vote on affairs of the village and clans, while having the Prince head as Consul. You will be given a cache of supplies to begin your settlement back on to our ancestral lands, should you reaffirm your faith to the All-father and the Ashtree we have seeded upon Vilachia’s foothills. The Reformation of the Red Faith The Red Faith stands as the bulwark between us and the daemons of the darkness. Should we falter in our duty to upholding justice, virtue and the light of our Father we will indeed descend into woe and suffering. With the completion of the First Red Scroll we saw the destiny within the parchment realized. Now, the Faith proceeds to bring us the Second Red Scroll, an ancient prophecy that will be spoken of at the Moesgård Moot. With the loss of the Great Hearth upon Nordengrad, Flamebrands will need to be reclaimed by Ancient Keepers of the Light in order to attain a connection to the Hall of Valkyria, should we ever wish commune with our ancestors. A sacrifice of weapons tools and livestock will be made to the Father in hopes of his light guiding us forward. 04/7/2019 – 1 pm est

Doran signs the document.

((You logged on and had a damage control council with all your Imperial star wars officers nice try tho

Yes

Antonious Horen watches from the safety of St. Helena Palace as his city is sacked by the Seventh Sons, waving his fist shouting obscenities The Sack of St. Helena It was a cold, dark day as the people of Renatus stirred merrily in their streets. Noblemen and women alike mingled in the square, their sense of false superiority unrivaled in this day in age. A particular nobleman would gaze outward across the bridge entryway, sipping on his goblet of red wine as he saw the glint of torch fire. He would finish swallowing his alcoholic drink as he turned his body once more to face the opened gate, furrowing his brow as he squinted at the dark figures rushing across the bridge. “Oh no,” was all that could be heard from the man as the pale tabard of the Seventh Sons was spotted. A panicked city would find itself at the mercy of these mercenaries, previous encounters only had their garrison fight incursions with these men outside the walls… this time however it would seem they’ve come for everyone within. The noblemen and guards took up swords and shields at once, the women and children hiding in the homes as fires began to take root from the raider’s torches. All of the faces helmeted behind the pale armour as their swords were unsheathed, the rasp of the blade enough to make your hair stand on end. The battle would commence with one man drowned in the fountain square, the rest hunted down like maggots as they scuttled through the city’s alleyways attempting to escape. As the last of the St. Helena garrison were cut down, news would come to the attention of Serjent Halfdan, current commander of the mercenary forces. It would seem Haense had sent reinforcements through the gate of St. Helena to stop the fires and see to it the raiders were brought to heel. Cleverly, Halfdan had hid most of his men in the housing district as a bait to draw these attackers out of the palace and the front gate alike. One final battle would commence before the raid would seem all the more won for the assailants. All of the defending force had been slain, only Antonious Horen stood at his balcony of the palace… watching as his beloved city and people burned while he did nothing to stop it. Video is in the spoiler below, dont click if you can’t handle it.

4th of the First Seed, 1709 Dagotsson, the only survivor from the merchant vessel, “Dawnhammer” I tried to warn them. I told them this path was not safe. But no, of course not. “If we had cut through upon the Serpent’s Sea, we would halve our sail time,” Captain Borgsson stated.. Steadfast was our crew of warriors, our small longboat rowed toward High Rock, the cardinal turning point that we could use to straight-shot us around towards our destination . . . where ‘it’ lay. The smell of salt and blood filled our nostrils as our ship traversed the sudden storm, the waves beating our ship over and over. I could feel the fear begin to settle among the other crew mates as we saw the waters churn. I can remember faintly the screams of agony upon our First Mate’s lungs as he hefted his shield up upon his bosom, his spear deflected outward by the tendril of a horror unspeakable. A dark figure had lurched from beneath the shadowy waters to assault our vessel, the pitched wail near deafening the rest of the men. The crew scrambled to assist as the creature most foul enwrapped our vessel in it’s clutch, some of our goods falling beneath the shallow waves that rocked our boat. The bellowing howl that came down upon our eardrums was something able to bring even the bravest Norlander to his hands and knees in fear. We fought as hard as we could but in the end, I was all that remained. Only a fragmented pair of boards was what had been left as the storm cleared and I rowed away as fast as I could, coming to my senses in the wake of a somber ocean now made into a tomb. I write to you, my faithful in flame, because this dire warning should not be taken lightly. I am all that remains of our crew, of our ship, and of the goods we pedaled across the Serpent’s Sea. May the light guide your path in these dark hours following this warning, for the domain of Jörmun should not be braved half of heart. ((For those interested in doing sailing/boat/exploration rp, you may wish to respond to this thread if you are aiming to seek out this beast of legend in the Serpent’s Sea.))

How do you feel about avar

“This Dwarf might as well be licking the boot of the Emperor himself they way he praises his Renatian overlords,” Doran would state. “The Dwarven people have been feminized by their Human subservience. What has happened to the days of old when a Dwarf had an ounce of pride to their name and people?” Doran would conclude his point, shaking his head at the statement.

A man of character

Royce Ruric de Frey would shake the hand of the Reiver Farfolk Halfling, noting is success in the battle. “You did good.”

8th of The First Seed, 1708 The Seventh Sons & Reivers Vs The Emperor’s Retinue The Sack of Ves, The Emperor’s Arrival Word quickly spread of an amassing group of Seventh Sons and Reivers gathering outside the gates of Ves. Burning buckets of oil and torch fire could be described by the city’s garrison as they saw them storm their gates, the massacre to ensue of the defending guards brutal in the wake of chaos. The idle citizens were mostly allowed to hide in their homes and leave the city should they surrender any sort of weapon that could be used against the raiding force... Fate would soon come into play once more as word reached Royce that the Emperor himself had rallied the heartlands and was enroute to assault the attacking force. Having moped up most of the Adrian garrison, the raiders exited to find themselves outnumbered by the Emperor’s retinue. A particular footman could be seen cowering in the bushes as they approached the incoming group. Royce would stand upright, looking at the force that had been raised to stop his assault upon the Adrians. “I will offer this only once, surrender or fall to the sword as those before you have.” His statement was blank and without remorse for the actions to be undertaken. The Emperor and his band charged forward . . .