KosherZombie

The vice-chancellor reads the missive from his office in Helena. A sad smile crosses his face, as he thinks of those who died in Helena and suffonia for this war. He utters a single line before laying the paper to rest: “may this be a new beginning for our brothers.”

SURNAME:wright

FIRST NAME:Hugo
ADDRESS OF RESIDENCE: 10 drocsid ave

DATE OF BIRTH: first of Malins welcome 1700

Are you registered and eligible to vote in the province of Curon?: yes

Do you have any other title, peerage or public service that may conflict with becoming an Imperial Senator, as per the Edict of Establishment (1736) or Edict of Election (1736)?: no

If yes, do you understand that you will be required to resign or abdicate from this position should you be elected to the Imperial Senate, and if this does not occur your seat shall be considered to be vacant?:Yes

((MC NAME)):Zombieman999

SURNAME: Wright

FIRST NAME: Hugo
ADDRESS OF RESIDENCE: 10 Drocsid Ave

DATE OF BIRTH: 1700ish

17 hours ago, Hunwald said:

Candidacies for the 1744 Imperial Senate Election in Curon

 

SURNAME: Wright

FIRST NAME: Hugo
ADDRESS OF RESIDENCE: 10 Drocsid Avenue

DATE OF BIRTH: 1700

 

Are you registered and eligible to vote in the province of Curon?: Yes

 

Do you have any other title, peerage or public service that may conflict with becoming an Imperial Senator, as per the Edict of Establishment (1736) or Edict of Election (1736)?: No

 

If yes, do you understand that you will be required to resign or abdicate from this position should you be elected to the Imperial Senate, and if this does not occur your seat shall be considered to be vacant?:

 

((MC NAME)): zombieman999

The iron is cold and suffocating

Fear shakes your soul

For what? For naught?

No one deserves this

You did this to yourself

A prison of your own making

You reach and claw at your throat

He won’t let go

You won’t let go

You are alone

In a prison of your own making

The walls are closing in

Extinguishing

The light

What a tragedy

To be alone

TRAGEDY 

You know to whom I write. It is you. With the lonely eyes, it is you, on the other side of the wall. Cold and alone. I speak to you. The tragedy is not your disgrace. It is not your treachery. It is not your blood. 

No, the tragedy is that you are alone.

Unsheathed blades held by lost souls staring across trodden fields, through flame and stone, wondering for what you stand. For who? Do you doubt yourselves, standing in the valley, no righteous sunlight reaching your depths? Only the pagan flames, misguided, undelivered, unworthy of your trust, leading you deeper, deeper into the cave, from which there may be no escape.

Let the scent of fresh air reach you. Let a feeble glimpse of sunlight glance against your pauldrons. For know this yet today, that while you may not stand for me, I stand for you. But it will not be enough. I am not enough. It is only a taste. I cannot offer deliverance.

I offer only a hand. Your brothers hand. To pull you from the depths. To offer a future basked in Godly light. To offer a future of brotherhood, of friendship, like we had once. The tragedy is what has been lost. But tragedy is not yet despair.

Hear me now.

You alone can take my hand. You alone.

H A. Horatii

Published by the Horatii Clan

8^th of Sigismund’s End, 1741

The Red River

I slept in a field by the river

The red river

And I waited for someone to wake me

I waited for you

But you never came

So I woke when the river flooded

Water up to my neck

I am drowning

The water is thick and black

Like blood

Your blood

TREACHERY

You grant me your excuses. You justify your injustice. From your whispers come mistrust, the seeds of violence planted, and fertilized with the waters of the red river.

I care little for your reasons, and only for your actions, so I state this truth but once. Your opportunism, your greed, your powerlust, your treachery - it all shall lead no place good. When mankind faces together against the world, it is their responsibility to retain their union. It is your treachery and your disgrace to disrupt your union.

You share in the treachery of the courlanders against the fifth, and the Santegians against the sixth. You are the rebels of norland against the seventh. And you are worse than Adrian de Sarkozic who fought with dwarves against the eight. Much worse. When will you learn? Centuries of infighting have taught that there is only one solution. Treachery. And you, stupid and shortsighted, lustful and godless, you perpetuate this endless decay. But I thought the grandfather clock had swung, to swing back again in greatness and goodness. But I was wrong, for we’ve not yet struck midnight, and the dawn is long away. The darkest of the night is yet to come. But it shall be you who finds themselves alone without the godly light. It shall be you beside the barbarian hordes, when hunger strikes. And as they find themselves alone, it shall be you who first they consume, incestual sustenance for their endless lust for violence. This is your fate. And you deserve it. For there is doubt in my mind that it will be worth our while to save you. You will never learn, treacherous. Treachery. Disgrace. 

I turn my back to thee, and expose my wound. I bleed for thee.

When you find yourself alone in the night, think of me. And know that I am without sympathy to your cause. And that to me is the saddest thing about it.

I write not as a scholar or a leader. I am just an angry old man.

H. A. Horatii

Published by the Horatii Clan

7^th of the Sun’s Smile, 1741

Arthos pokes pierce with a stick, hoping he wakes up.

@Sporan

What future?

Two paths diverge before us.

Our right hand, our sword hand, to war, for blood, for vengeance. For pride.  Darkness. The blade shall decide our fate. Ancient alliances broken. Unforgiven. And yet even as we hold the knives to each other's throats, without a single blow dealt, we already bleed. Our arms are cut defensively. Just as we peek out from our holes, in frantic hopes of peace, following the last blundersome years of civil war, we once more are spurred to action. This is the path we are on. The dark, and hopeless path. The inevitable cycle. The voiceless pattern. For continuing on this path, we will find our divided and weak, subject to the manipulation of and whims of the godless creatures of Arcas.

Our left hand, useless and clumsy, to wave across the chasm, and extend to brethren. But what future rests there? Armistice? Reunification? Surrender? I see none, with the current administration, and their enemies. The world is changing, and that is nearly inevitably a bloody affair. There is nothing cordial, nothing brotherly about this change, for it is predicated on fear and hatred, lust and ambition. The lines are drawn the stage is set. But it has not been well acted. Perhaps but for a change of cast we were close.

The inevitable.

And yet those students of history like myself know that either left or right shall lead us to the same end. Imperium shall rise, and it shall be mighty again. So those of you who take the path of war, ask yourself what truly you fight for? A change in leadership? A new era?  You will have the decay brought forth by division, and eventually a union built in violence and tyranny. Baptized in blood. Your own blood. And your sons will look upon your memory. And they shall think, “Why did we do this.” But when push comes to shove, and blades come out, it will have been you who educated them, and they will replicate your actions, and so the cycle shall continue. Nothing will change. Nothing ever changes. Nothing except the man in the office. I for one believed in something better. I still do.
 

H. A. Horatii

Published by the

Horatii Clan

The Eleventh of Grand Harvest, 1741

Disgrace 

My disappointment in mankind spreads from the high imperial offices in helena to the pagan halls in Morsgrad. In the pagan halls where your leaders spread lies and trade in fear, you chisel away at union and cooperation, through devices of fear. In the high imperial offices where you strike at weak points to shatter your enemies, like a coal miner swings his pick, and breaks and burns the coal.  You lack substance, the both of you. Those Morsgradians who fight for hate, motivated by the opportunism provided by the enemies of mankind. Your war cry, death to imperium, death to Haense. Your claims of peace and justice. Hypocrisy and lies. You are vile.

And yet I can hardly stand by my own empire or my own kingdom, when the empire subjugates itself to the antiquated methods of its predecessors, ushering onward with intrigue and plots, seeking an unwarranted, unwon, and undeserved world supremacy. You abuse the trust mankind places in the imperial office for your own fantasies of greatness. You disgust me.

Therein lies the disgrace. The leaders of mankind in the era are horrific, spineless, undeserving, and ungodly. You scrap and you fiend in the void of power left by your predecessors. And that is precisely where you will find yourself when your inevitable demise reaches you. In the void.  None of you deserve the faith your people have invested in you. You disgrace our species with your childish feuds, like brothers fighting for a toy, with no mother to drag you apart. Iblees driven, blind, disgrace. You forget yourselves. You damn yourselves. You ring the bells of division, but hide your eyes, lest you see what you have wrought, the alliance you have broken, the friendships you have ended, and the brothers you have killed.

I write not as a scholar. I write not as a leader. I am only a sad old man.

H. A. Horatii

Published by the Horatii Clan

9th of the Grand Harvest. 1741

“Oh look, pertinaxi is back.” Said Wilhelm from the seven skies. The old monarch and loyal servant held a detached uncertainty in his eyes, perhaps even a little hope. “That era ended once in horror, and through the devices of power, has today been restored in fear.” He puffed on his joint. “Hrm.”

“He writes of communication,” muses a curonian scholar. “The feudal order is restored, and history binds de Evreux to Eastmark. The realm is safe and at last it is stable. My faith remains that stability will not be overturned by ambition.”

o7

Wilhelm doesn’t know the man, but he offers the knight a blunt anyway, when he arrives in the seven skies.

Add in five man raids on a five day cooldown, and include two man banditry no cooldown, but continued harassment will lead to conflict blacklist. Ez fix make everyone happy. For years I’ve been on the side of increasing regulation on PVP, because there was a time when glitching, meme rp, and operating on the edge of the rules in aggressive roleplay killing raiding was allowed. Moderation let things slide, which really reduced the fun of lotc.

for the first time since before axios, I’m on the side of decreasing regulation. There’s no reward for building an army. There’s nothing to do with your army in peacetime. Banditry is no longer a threat. These conflict rules reduce dynamic roleplay, favoring to protect slice of life rp, and totally alienate any form of military and conflict roleplay. Military and conflict roleplay have driven this server since its inception, and these days now that staff have effectively removed conflict altogether, lotc is just boring.

all the current changes are flat out overcompensation. Sorry for **** grammar I had like five minutes and typed this out on my phone.

“Yikes”

Massive craft 

Treaty of Helena, 1728

Issued and confirmed on the 16^th of Harren’s Folley, 1728

The Holy Orenian Empire and the Province of Rubern, recognizing the violence and chaos of the past years, through which both sovereignties find their origin, find that in order to preserve the peace and union of mankind, it is within the mutual interest of each signatory to permit the continued self-rule of the Province of Rubern, in order to avoid further bloodshed, while they strive for diplomatic resolution to their division.

ARTICLE I - The Holy Orenian Empire and the Province of Rubern agree to adhere to a strict non aggression pact, under all circumstances.

ARTICLE II - The Holy Orenian Empire recognizes the sovereignty of the Province of Rubern, under the rule of Prince Vladrick.

ARTICLE III - The Province of Rubern recognizes Alexander de Joannes as the Holy Orenian Emperor, and the legitimate rule of House de Joannes over humanity. They shall provide no aid to any party that would oppose House de Joannes or its demesne.

ARTICLE IV - A policy of free trade and travel shall be enacted between the signatories.

ARTICLE V - In the case wherein one signatory or nation is found to be in violation of this pact, all articles shall remain in effect, so long as sincere diplomatic efforts are taken by the offending party to rectify the situation.

ARTICLE VI - This treaty shall remain in effect so long as Alexander II remains the Holy Orenian Emperor, and Prince Vladrick remains the sovereign of the Province of Rubern.

Signed,
 

His Imperial Majesty, Alexander II de Joannes, Holy Orenian Emperor
 

His Highness, Vladrick Heiromar Barbanov-Alimar, Black Prince of Rubern

Wilhelm welcomes Eric into the seven skies with a big smile and a well rolled joint. 

Hugo lays down his pen, the death of the self proclaimed king terminating their short correspondence. He takes a sip from the glass of water sitting on his desk. “Well,” he murmurs. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

The Feast of Alstion

Issued and Confirmed by Emperor Alexander II de Joannes, on the 8^th of the Amber Cold, 1726

His Imperial Majesty, Alexander II, appointed by the sovereigns of man to serve as their Emperor, and ordained by God with the divine right to rule the Holy Orenian Empire, does on this day summon the esteemed peers and courtiers of the realm, to attend a feast in the Palace of Helena. The feast shall provide the various spiritual and political authorities the opportunity meet the Imperial family, and mingle with the diverse leaders of the Empire.

The feast shall celebrate the fourteenth birthday of Emperor Alexander II, and the official end of the Imperial Regency council. Guests are encouraged to bring the Emperor gifts to celebrate his birthday and honor his coming of age. At the feast, Emperor Alexander II shall appear and give his first address to his courts and vassals, who shall stand united and at peace before their divinely mandated sovereign, for the first time since the days of Johannesburg. After the Emperor’s address, the peers of the realm shall be seated, and provided a three course meal, complete with entertainment and wine.

The feast shall be an exclusive event, with access restricted to individuals and groups who receive invitations from the Emperor and his representatives. Those who receive an invitation must confirm their attendance and inform the Imperial administration of how many guests they shall be bringing. The guests must be immediate family members.

The following individuals, their wives, and other groups are invited to attend with their guests:

The Imperial Courtiers

The Vassals and Knights of the Imperial Crown

The Vassals and Knights of the Kingdom of Haense

The Vassals and Knights of the Kingdom of Curonia

The Vassals and Knights of the Kingdom of Kaedrin

((The feast shall occur in the Helena Palace, on Wednesday, 6pm EST))

Signed,

Emperor Alexander II de Joannes, the Holy Orenian Emperor

With a tired smile, Arthos picks up his pen.

Arty sharpens his sword.

An Open letter to the Under Realm of Urguan

To Under-King Atandt Irongrinder and the Under-Realm of Urguan,

Your low cunning is the subject of Illatian plays. As is the classical nature of dwarvenkind, you have once again succumbed to the curse of your forebears and set your greed upon the realms of man. The Burgraviate of High Peak and its surrounding lands are intrinsically apart of mankind’s patrimony and owe no fealty to any monarch that is not human. As our ancestors have done in centuries past, the duty falls to us, the Sovereigns of Pax Orenia, to check and condemn your sloven ambitions once more.

We, the Peace Council of the Pax Orenia, united in our motives behind Imperator Johannes Achillius Cascadia, demand that the Under-Realm of Urguan cease all their hostilities against the sovereignties of the Pax Orenia. You and your king, in his warmongering, half man half witted ways, has insulted and threatened mankind, and it shall not be tolerated. The cowardice of your King, Atandt Irongrinder and your kind is known throughout Arcas, for while the War of Two Emperor’s divided the realms you hid in your dark and lonesome holes, isolating yourselves, too weak and indecisive to fight like men.

Yet now, you crawl out of your holes, and see the light of day, for the first time since we obliterated your species in the coalition wars of Atlas, and you think that we, mankind, are weak, because of our war? You saw us as vulnerable and divided, and in your cowardice, tried to split us apart. You would not fight us while we were united, so you opted to threaten and belittle us. You demanded that we capitulate. You demanded, with bloated egos and untested armies, that we withdraw our vassals from our own sovereign territories?

But we are not weak. We are not divided. We are mankind, and we are united behind our Imperator. We stand as one, banners of Purple, Green and Red raised high in our solidarity and racial pride, and we, for all the world to see, answer your demands. We shall not withdraw from our own territory. We shall not retreat from your challenge, for we, unlike you are not cowards who would flee a fight. If you want us gone from the mountains, then by GOD, you will have to remove us. Either show your metal, and meet us on the field of battle, where we will bleed your species dry, as we have a hundred times before, or, if your cowardice prevails, then we demand that you apologize for insulting our honor, and recognize our borders as we have drawn them.

You have three months to answer. The Pax Prevails. Ave Imperium.
 

Signed,

His Imperial Majesty, John VII of the House of Cascadia, Holy Orenian Emperor, King of Cascadia, Marna, Mardon, Salvus, Seventis, Savoy, Courland and Santegia, Duke of the Crownlands, Avar, and Frederica, Count of Helena, Alamar, Frederica, Thelen, Lorath, and Cantal, Baron of Darkwood, Gravelhold, Fidei Defensor, Protector of the Heartlanders, Highlanders, Farfolk, et cetera...

His Royal Majesty, Pierce I of House Devereux, King of Curonia, Duke of Curon & Umbra, Count of Arbor, Albion, Avalain, Blackreach & Cyrilsburg, Baron of Arisan, Hallowfell, Rivia, & Vasile, and Lord of Bear Mountain & Blackden.

His Serene Grace, Helton Hadrian Helvets, Duke of Cathalon, Captain & Defender of Liberty