tcs_tonsils_

I think there is a fundamental problem here. Now I personally don’t know Muna, but I find it quite odd that man previous comments, especially most of the ones that have been deleted or censored, were quick to write this off as mere propagation for the war, specifically against Adria. This seems odd to me. 1. Simply because there is a community struggle at the present moment, does not mean there is not genuine concern for the health and safety of payers across the community if one of your players is called out. People can definitely change- especially over 4 years. People can come back from the worst of the worst. Some people’s redemption stores are less… harrowing than others, but they are stories known the less. I think it is important, if you point that you think they are still doing something wrong, give evidence. I hate to say it, but a lot of the Lotc community is known to use so-called ‘gamer words’, even very welcoming, pleasant people who are very helpful. It is sometimes just a accidental slip or your background coming out. That is not condoning the action, but it is there. 3. Provide solid evidence on continued ban-worthy material if you wish for the person to be dishonored and booted. I will say, however, if there is no visual confirmation that there is change, I do not quite understand how to continue in defense of the person in question. I also do not know Charlemagne well. 2. Restoration is a 3-part plan. Firstly, understanding that you did something wrong. Secondly, actually wanting to change from that path. Thirdly seeking forgiveness and move forward. (Sometimes people don’t wanna forgive you, and that is on them.)

The Children of Horen By Borris Iver Kortrevich ON THIS, 14TH OF OWYN'S FLAME, 1917 The rivers run with crimson hue, Drowning all with ruby spew, Gush now forth in aboding torment, Streams the fiery, fierce torrent. What tear-filled cries fall on petrified soil, The burdens of our hands that toil, Their wretched mouths spurn idle hope, Choking out life, the noose-tied rope! Do the words of the once peaceful bring only idleness? Has wickedness brewed only feigned righteousness? Their realms have ushered a lustful hand, Succumbing to bloodshed’s caustic command. Fate conspires her doom-laden appetite to be fed, And feasts upon those too foolish to maintain their head. Darkness prevails following ghastly false ambition, Self-gratification and a pride-inducing expedition. Scarlet ichor runs when pale bodies lay, Mothers and Fathers, Brothers and daughters, The children of Horen weep from where they were slain, Their blood cries out, yet its tones fall on deaf ears. Alas, it grows late, and the hour draws near. Till at last, the gnawing dawn rears, The swift blades shall fall, And the deep earth shall wet from the vitality of man. SIGNED, Lord Borris Iver Kortrevich, Valtakossar of the Order of Queen Maya and the Lily

Borris Iver Kortrevich grins because he sees potential for much poetry in the wake of war.

Selection of Poetry - Volumes Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six On this 11th of JULA AG PIOV, 469 E.S. Worm You are vile, devilish and arrogant. You gawk at real truth, Before twisting and perverting, That which is pure. You are a snake, You are spineless and witful. There is only deception and lust Wrapped beneath your pitiful state. You are a Worm, Wiggling, writhing Slinking in the night, Desperately trying to flee. You are a maggot, Parasitic in nature. Feeding off the weak, Harvesting the fear. They were mere peasants in your eyes, Deserving not of higher callings, But only living that of utilization, The usings of your own accord. And how were they to resist? For what Will had they to fight such evil? You had exploited them, weakened them, You had used, abused, then loosed them. You are sick, corrupting everything around you. Yet you are a dog, licking the vomit he spits, You shall not change, For goodness is not in your nature. You are a Snake. You are a Worm. You are a Maggot. Woe to You. Too Long Where have you gone? The daylight fades. All around me mists pursue, Till they dance in circles near my form. My muscles grow taut, My head wearied, Pain has sought to consume me. I cannot remember your face, Nor visualize the beauty of your features. Your smile is but a vague outline, Its view held but barely out of my sight. There is but a glow now, The lids of my eyes weigh, Causing me to squint. Nor can I revisit the smoothness of your skin, Hear the sound of your voice, Know the smell of your hair, Or remember the taste of your lips. It has been too long, Semblance of my memory of you, Runs thin, vague. How does one reconcile such grief? It is almost overwhelming, For when I remember, Then simply forget more. Heavy as Concrete Wrought from weighty woes that linger and mar, The menacing mass of malice binds with apar The compound of crepitude created in cascades, Molding and melding heavy as concrete encrades. The manace of mire materializes, a crust Rounding oppressive obloquy until dust The opaquing overgrowth of grief congeals An onerous ostentation of monstrous appeal. Constructs of corroded consequence occur The combination of questionable qualites deter Anxiety and agony arise ever strong, Furthered through fatuous fanciful flongs. The trappings of tethering tribulations Are amalgamated disatisfactions Ominousness and oppression outlives, Catastrophic consequences drive like sieves. The troubled immensity of thoughtfouls aloft Striking through thoughtless whims of what is oft Fisticuffs of fear and fury percieves The thunderous murmuring of humankind's acheive. In cohesive compound, a collony of fault Designed and devised, heavy as concrete assaults; Inurening life and living with depth, Failure of fortitude e'er looms in a wepth. Pitiful Dim is the light of the oppressed, Their hardships beyond what they can digest. Forced to teeter on the edge of poverty, Their wealth their only hope of stability. The haggard look on their despoiled faces, Their passions have been so cruelly effaced. Their futures foreclosed, their hopes denied, Endured with silent, hopeless pride. The beleaguered must bare the sorrowful grunt. Their dreams forever far beyond their front. Abandoned and bereft, lacking all reprieve, Alas, their lot can only be grieve. Swept up in the tumult of distress, Desperate to reverse their direness. True freedom remains desperately out of reach, A passing whim for their pitiful speech. Teardrops like rain [An Epic-Like Poem] She looked upon it, the thing that rested upon the ground. It had a red uniform, buttons arranged neatly upon the chest and collar. Yet the uniform was not actually red, but rather the color had stained the white underneath. The blood had soaked it, ruined it. Yet, in a sense, it was just as beautiful as before. Her eyes were dry, dull, and looking upon that thing. She had no tears for all that could come had already fallen, draining just moments prior. The streaks of water had evaporated in the cool air, leaving a crust upon that pale skin. Her face had gone numb, even as emotional torment twisted inside of her. It had fallen some time during the battle, though through their separation, she could not know when. When the steel had fallen from Koreni hands, their members fearing their inability to win, And from this they knelt, pleading for mercy, for them not to become like their brethren who had fallen. It was only them that she could see its form, motionless upon the crimson stained dirt. She had pleaded to Uri as her heavy footfalls carried her body across the field. Even as she approached the lifeless thing, she whispered and prayed. They were not the regular drawn out prayers of the Glendesh, but repeating words. She spoke in hushed tones, to anyone near her it would almost sound like mumbling. “Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die.” The words continued upon her lips, yet with every word, the hope in her sank. Though, even as she made it to the figure, she did not pause her ramblings. It did not move. It did not even twitch. The form stayed motionless on mud and grass. His pale face was no older than thirty, dark brown hair still slicked back. It had been mixed with the grim of the battlefield, yet somehow held its shine. Upon his cheeks was a large gash where an enemy's sword had found its mark. Blood pooled near his nose before flowing down his lip. Nor fell to her knees, the earth sinking under the new weight resting upon it. She had stopped mumbling, falling silent as her eyes fell to his. There was no spark in its eyes, that greenish wonder had left, Leaving an empty shell, something she regarded with disgust. It was not Londen, for Londen had escaped from this thing the moment darkness fell. Yet she regarded the man she once knew, despite the vessel he his flesh had now become. Its vessel held only death, and Londen was gone- wasted away. She wished to do the same, but knew she could not. Pours the Heart Tear-stained cheeks that slowly fall, Eyes now sorrow-filled, a curtain's pall. As each memory is gently replayed, Wasted time and broken faith betrayed. No more time for joy and cheer, Now replaced with buckets of bitter tears. A heavy heart, low and deep, A hole in life that's grown too deep. Questions race with no real answers found, Pain and rain, and darkness abound. A soul torn apart and lost, All courage gone, at what cost? Now the life-light slowly fades, A blank canvas, the future had been made. No happy ending in sight, But still, hope perseveres, in the night. Broken promises The whole is fractures, no more to keep- The trust we had is now so deep- The shattered pieces, tossed out wide- Lie scattered upon the ground in pride- No longer can you come and mend- Those days of joy we made to last- The love we shared can't survive- In the wake of hindsight's blast- The hope we harboured in our hearts- Now lies twisted in despair- These holes we can no longer mend- Lingering in the air- Our time was so brief and sudden- But the memories still remain- The ties we shared precious and pure- But yet will not be the same- These split pieces we made- Are now just but a dream- A dream of what could have been- Had promises not been broken by me. Deceiver Half-truths lying round like loose change, Waiting to be spent on unsuspecting prey. Leading a person 'round in a strange sort of dance, To a desolate end that they never did foresay. Weaving stories filled with insufficient facts, Fragments of truths hidden in the haze. Each lie presented like a logical reason, Weighed on a scale of right and wrong, a kept phrase. Strewn in the wind, the facts float on air, Gathering dust and obscuring the one truth there. Converging paths each leading to disaster, Reign as the victors in their maligned lair. Curiosity salivating for the full truth, When all that was left were misleading clues. The stakes too high, the lies so thick, Lies leading to disaster, their insidious rules. Dumbfounded My heart stands still Stunned by the ones I know so well Caught in between what used to be And what they meant to me. My words suspended in the air Clinging to the unsaid prayer Gasping for a single breath My love still runs so deep. The realization of a hole With no way to fill or console The hope for a better tomorrow Seems far off and far too hollow. With a sorrow as heavy as stone My heart silently mourns alone Emptiness replaced what was once joy And I'm left here dumbfounded. Blankets There once was a hope so sublime, That it lifted our spirits in time, Though the future was bleak, It had hope that was chic, It stays with us still and will never die. Handle with Care Like a shard of glass, It stands out for you, Waiting for you to take that which was given. It beats, waiting for you to comply? Shall you fill my desires, Or will you simply let me die? This is What The World is Life and death embrace in an eternal embrace, A timeless union that cannot be replaced. Life is a journey that cannot be denied, For death must come for the journey to be tried. The joys of life can bring such rapturous pleasure, But death brings its own measure. Life's beauty and wonders that none can deny, Are taken away in a single goodbye. The brief thrill of life must one day pass, And life must surrender every joy and laugh. Bereft of rest, life and death entwine, Till death is forgotten and life sublime. Cinquain Poems: Dreamer Imagining love A world of possibilities Endless potential, hope alive The achiever Meadows Vibrant, lush Gifted us peace, tranquility Soothing souls, delighting eyes Channeled divinity Gifts Valuable, rare Expression of thought, love, care Priceless, special, something new Subtle appreciation Wisdom Precious, deep Achievement of life's mastery Treasures of knowledge, truth seen Enlightenment Angels Protectors kind Divine messengers of love Guiding us, cherishing souls Blessings abound Snowflake Pure frost Unique shape, Floating through air Fairytale snow Laughter Joyful, free Mysterious beauty, Instant connection of souls Heavenly bliss Roses lovely, bold Romantic symbol, Sweet fragrance released in bloom Fragile beauty Bloat Greed is like a river to a kings delight, Twisting and twirling in an unnatural flight. Its course unstoppable: majestic and royal, A paralyzing hunger by its never-ending toll. The ruler’s need for more, unchecked, Rises with each granted wish and unchecked. The treasury grows heavy with needless gold, As the King demands, forever in want of more. The bloated fish begins to smell within, Unsatisfied with all of its cached in bins. The King's power and wealth abound and swell, While his kingdom and citizens fail to thrive as well. As the King's coffers overflow with excess, His avarice never does seem to regress. The fish's body grows, swelling and large, A cautionary reminder of the King's charge. Call and Answer I imagine what secrets are held within, Like a special kiss stolen in time and then, Love letters fluttering like a sweet caress, Filled with all the tenderness, Flowers and kisses, and dreams to share, Reminding me of the strength of care, The words so intimate and pure and true, A love that's shared from me to you. A journey of love and passion explored, Each line a memory of sweet accord, Tears, laughter and memories of days past, As I read through this letter so fast. Letters that speak of the yearning hope within-- A timeless reminder our hearts remain intertwined, My love and thoughts ablaze, unchanging and free, Short of falling in love endlessly. Dauntless is the Path Before Me Dauntless, Dauntless, Dauntless. Dauntless is the Path before me, Aged tests wrought with pain and guile. Stretching past man’s intrepid isle. Soundless wraiths in truncated dance, They linger, in mindless, haunted trance. Till breaking forth from spellbound wonder, They relinquish their chains, tossing asunder. Wraith-bound broke their numbing display, Lest they continue a bleak, binding array. Caution, Caution, be those who wear bitter ties. For broken together, are they who lie. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich VKML

A certain Savoyard’s face darkened considerably. He flipped open his journal, their pages long worn at this point. “No realm of man, despite their supposed righteous, has resisted subjugation of evil as a result of greed. Adria stands no different. May the Duke find his forgiveness.”

Borris Iver Kortrevich opened the missive with olden fingers, their age catching up with him. Soft, pale skin had begun its process of sagging. He was getting old. His dark blue eyes scanned the note, reading each work with interest till... upon the page, he read his name. His eyes flung open, a sudden burst of life entering them. He sat in stunned silence, surrounded by the tombs of his own library. Yet the man calmly stretched out, taking a small sheet of paper given to him generations prior. He was no longer as young in any regard, except when compared to non-humans, and yet the words were sweet upon his lips as he read part of the text "I will watch with pride from above now, and on that day you will surely be named Valtakossar." Reading this final line, an excerpt of the note given to him at King Sigismund III's Will reading caused Borris to lean back and contemplate his life. Surely his King had watched his journey and will continue watching. @Xarkly

A Biggus Grinnus finds itself upon Sebastien’s face. He is mighty proud of his Child.

Best moments?

Borris simply chuckled and shook his head. “Funny guy.”

ISSUED AND CONFIRMED BY SER SEBASTIEN ASHFORD DE SAVOIE Upon the 9th of MSITZA AG DARGUND, 469 E.S. | The 9th of HARREN'S FOLLY, 1914 “We have won - Not with words, but with deeds.” Table of Contents I. History II. Culture III. Insignia IV. Mottos V. Lineage VI. Relics “The Ashford sun will reign supreme. None shall escape it. Our people will bask in its warmth; our enemies will be burnt by its rays; and those of our dynasty will be forever illuminated by its glowing luminescence.” Olivier Ashford de Savoie, King of Oren, Duke of Savoy, 1524 History People lived in a land known as Esheveurd, located beyond the boundaries of the Aegisian world. It was a land ruled by chill and ice. Despite the Eshænveurd's attempts at building great kingdoms, the people could not find a proper footing. They had to struggle to survive and were toughened by the cold of the fjord. After five years, they called themselves the Eshænveurd (Ashford), meaning "Men among the Ashen Glades' in their language. The Eshænveurd lived as barbaric clans and endured the harsh climate. The Sun became their god. A strange thing occurred many years after the Eshænveurd had settled. The envoy of King Harren was sent to Sergius, son of Adelric. He offered them riches, authority, recognition of their pagan faith, and the title of lord of Oren. Sergius accepted and traveled east to the capital of Oren, Al'Khazar. Whilst doing this, Sergius took on the name Ashford, derived from the word Esheveurd, meaning 'ford by a glade of ash trees', and adopted a white sun on black as his sigil. The members of House Ashford had served the line of Horen for many generations until an attempted coup. House Ashford was sent to Ulmsbottom, where they were to live out the rest of their days. However, despite Gwynneg's banishment, his son, Lucien, worked hard within the Church. He sought to restore his family's name through deeds of generosity and acts of great faith. "Velwyn Ashford was the first and the last generation born in Ulmsbottom." Through his works in the Church, he was revered enough to be granted the position of High Pontiff. Following this, his son, Roland, refashioned the house after being granted the lands of Savoy. No longer would the house be just Ashford, as his father had been born, but rather, Ashford de Savoie. Not long after, de bar was formed as a brother house to de Savoie. However, even through this Roland was not well known despite being the founder of the house, his son. Olivier Ashford de Savoie is famous or infamous. Olivier was voted onto the throne through hard work and determination, becoming the first Savoyard King of Oren. Through Olivier's Kingship, the whole of Oren experienced both times of excellent health and toil. Eventually, after the King faced many matters from the offices of the Palace, many vassals found discontentment with the Savoyard rule, including the newly formed Barbanov of Haense. This eventually led to the Duke's War, a fierce confrontation which split Humanity into North and South. House de Savoie fell into relative obscurity for the next few generations until, during the Island of Almaris, Olivier Renault was granted the Duchy of Corazon under the Free State of Sutica. Later in its lifetime, he would take over as Regent. During this Regency, he would disband the landed Sutica, forming it into a titular Principality. They then reformed Savoy as a Principality. It lasted 36 years before dissolving under the rule of Grand Princess Renata Ashford de Savoie. Since then, the families of Savoy have scattered. Most have opted to change their last name to the vassals that they have been given under multiple different kingdoms. “3 I am the Lord GOD without peer. 4 I put into your heart the power of creation, and I created the seed and chaff, and put heat into the fire that reddens iron. 5 And as I have created means to ease your labors, so I have created new labors, and new fruits.” Scroll of Virtue, Verses 3-5 Culture “The people of Savoy are known to be hardy, resilient, and sometimes unapproachable. The zeal for Canonism that Savoyards hold can sometimes be frightening to an outsider, going to extremes in order to please God, which might be contradictory in itself. In recent years, the Savoyard is known to dabble into more of the artistic side of things, embracing their culture and finding a uniqueness far from their origins. Although turmoil tends to follow the Savoyards, they continue to grow and learn, always opting to gain knowledge that supports their benefit. These people are also known to be outright, not caring to save one’s feelings or emotions when they have a point to make. Efficiency is something that the Savoyards pride, and saying things as they are might be seen as rude to foreigners, but normal to a Savoyard.” The Savoyard Culture - Volume II “A wise man must understand the nature of the beast, and the actions they take to survive. He is to understand both the Lion and Fox alike. The fox is cunning, but cannot overcome the wolves. The Lion is fierce, but cannot overcome its own toils. Therefore, he must be a fox to outwit his toils, and a Lion to fend off the wolves.” Nikolai Michieveli Insignia Original Coat of Arms [1425-1750] Vassal of Sutica [1800-1836] Principality of Savoy [1836-1872] Post-Fall [1872-1914] House Ashford de Savoie [1914] Motto Differentials “No Words, Only Deeds” "Not words but deeds." “Actions speak louder than Words.” “Silence through words, spoken in action.” “Our words ring clear, our actions even more so.” “It is the time for us to once more revere the leaders who led us, whether under the banner of the Lorraine or the Sun to such victories! The men whose names will echo throughout the annals of history as those that twist fate itself around them…” Excerpt from Chronicle of Savoy, Translated by Frederick von Manstein, 1703 Lineage I. Sergius Esheveurd: Progenitor of House Ashford Son of Ex. Owyn and Great Grandson of Ex. Horen. II. 9x Generations of Esheveurd III. Sergius Ashford: First Person to use Ashford instead of Esheveurd. IV. Edwin Ashford V. Britius Ashford VI. Loic Ashford VII. Andre Ashford VIII. Gwynneg Ashford IX. Velwyn Ashford - High Pontiff Lucien I [The Holiest of Oren- Lucien I “the Good” of House Ashford] X. Roland Ashford de Savoie: Creator of House de Savoie XI. Olivier Ashford de Savoie: King of Oren XII. Nikolaus Ashford de Savoie XIII. Alphonse Ashford de Savoie XIV. Aurele Ashford de Savoie XV. Lucien Alexandre Ashford de Savoie XVI. Lucien Ashford de Savoie - Griffith 'of Gwynon' XVII. Olivier I Ashford de Savoie: Prince of Savoy XVIII. Olivier II Ashford de Savoie: Prince of Savoy Post-Fall of Succession XIV. Lucien Ashford de Savoie: Former Prince of Savoy A. Sebastien Ashford de Savoie 1. Olivier Ashford de Savoie XV. Renata Ashford de Savoie: Former Princess of Savoy A. Adelric de Savoie Ser Lucien Ashford de Savoie (1844-Present) Son of Olivier II Ashford de Savoie and Catherine Barclay. Former Grand Prince of Savoy, Count of Peremont, and Marian Knight of Hanseti-Ruska. --- Ser Sébastien Ashford de Savoie (1872-Present) Son of Lucien I Ashford de Savoie and Stefanyia Ruthern. Former Prince of Savoy, Meyster Knight of Hanseti-Ruska, and Guardian of Keep Peremont. --- Olivier Percival Ashford de Savoie (1903-Present) Son of Sebastien Ashford de Savoie and Anabel Colborn. Guy Olivier Ashford de Savoie (1903-Present) Son of Sebastien Ashford de Savoie and Anabel Colborn. Gereon Caesar Ashford de Savoie (1903-Present) Son of Sebastien Ashford de Savoie and Anabel Colborn. “I saw a beautiful sunset followed by the deepness of the night. It was dark and full of terror, but hope shone over the horizon as the next day dawned.” Unknown Sergeant Of the Argent Legion Relics of de Savoie Objects Blessed Necklace of Griffith 'of Gwynon' Shattered Sun of San Luciano Circlet of the Last Prince Circlet of the Last Princess Sword of AIN SANUVIK VALKSKEJ Coronet of Karl Sigmar, Grand Prince of Kusoraev The Ashford Signet Ring Weapons Traitor Slayer Ixen Traitor’s Bane The White Sun Clothing The Ashford Sun Armor of the Grand Prince The Royal Sash “It was under the warmth of the sun that we won this battle - by the will of our rightful relics that I survived the scorching flames of a gelid beasts’ flame; and, by the will of the incandescent heavens and the toils of we the Eshænveurd, that we had taken victory from the gloaming night. We have won - not with words, but deeds.” King Helvegen of Eshænveurd Signed, HIS LORDSHIP, Ser Sébastien ‘The White Sun’ Ashford de Savoie, Guardian of Keep Peremont, Palatine Kommissar, and Meyster Knight of Hanseti-Ruska,

ISSUED AND CONFIRMED BY SER SÉBASTIEN ASHFORD DE SAVOIE Upon the 9th of MSITZA AG DARGUND, 469 E.S. | The 9th of HARREN'S FOLLY, 1914 “The Sun may set at dusk, But it shall always rise in the morning.” CORAM HOMINE ET DEO PRAEDICAMUS, The name of my forebears does not cease to be, even through adversity, sorrow, or diminishing circumstances. From the cathedrals on the Isles of The Fringe, Athera and Vailor to the pale halls of the Palace of San Luciano, to this humble keep, House Ashford de Savoie has continued forwards, unrelenting. Through numerous tragedies, broken hopes, and fractured dreams, we will hold strong to what we know to be true, Savoy lives on. Not in any grand city or ruined capital, but in the memory of those who bear its past. Over the last few years, the groundwork has been laid for the House of the Sun to once again build their prestige. With permission from the king, defensive structures have been erected following the complete rejuvenation of the Vuillermoz land from its once pitiful state into an area that breeds beauty and serenity. Painstaking work filling craters, discarding ruins, and replenishing flora, has been done so that the area might again, be inhabited. With the completion of this task, House de Savoie announces the following: Construction of Keep Peremont Defensive holds are critical to having secure and protected nations. Keep Peremont lies directly between the Forest of Dobrov and the Forest of Krusev, both of which have spawned numerous unsavory creatures. Thus, a this keep shall act as a barrier, defending Thus, House de Savoie has been trusted with securing the southern border, both in blocking feral creatures from infesting the land, or enemy militia. Creation of the Sun’s Smile Library. We are a family with a long history, and our lineage can be traced directly back to Horen with little change in name. However, our history is not well known, before the libraries of my kin have remained incomplete and spread out. However, it was my goal to bring together the histories of Ashford de Savoie together into one place in order that we might read through and see one story. Therefore, over the last several years, sources have been brought into my fold, from excerpts of papers to large scale works. These sources hold the key to a congruent history. Therefore, with the help of my dedicated son, Carolus, he has sought to translate many Savoyard tomes. There are more yet to be translated and still more yet to be found. Transfer of the statue of Archangel Michael ‘the Courageous’ from Redclyf Ruins For some time this holy relic stood guarding the ruins of a civilization long gone, settlements that has moved. It has been sitting unattended for too lengthy a time and therefore, concerns of its health have come into question. Following express permission given by Pontiff Pontian IV, this statue shall be carefully transferred from its place of degradation to the lands Keep Peremont sit so that it can be restored to its former glory. Dedication of Saint Amyas Chapel and Shrine to Saint Harald Vuiller. Originally having been hoped to be restored, it was found that the safest avenue for both the land and for the canonists who use it, that Saint Harald’s chapel would need to be deconstructed and a new chapel erected in its place. Therefore, following the steps of canonist law, so that its dismantling may be blessed, permission was sought from the High Pontiff. Following his blessing, the chapel was carefully disassembled. However, parts of its structure still held firm. Therefore, those parts were taken and cleaned. As this new chapel was constructed, pieces from the previous church were laid into the foundation, a testament to the strength of faith. Upon its founding, it shall be dedicated to Saint Amays, the Savoyard Patron Saint. Furthermore, a Shrine to Saint Harald Vuiller has been built by the chapel in order to pay homage, not only to him, but to the Vuiller legacy. Restoration of forestry and surrounding plant life. The forest life of Vuillermoz had been devastated following the complete and utter bombing of the keep and surrounding buildings following the Brother’s War. Ruins, overgrowth, and large craters plagued the land. However, over the last 5 years, the land has been slowly restored, giving life to a once dead ecosystem. The ruins of old have been fully removed, giving way for new plant growth. Trees have been replanted and transferred from elsewhere to sustain new growth. The Overgrowth has been cut back, bringing on a balance to the order of things. Additionally. Larger craters have been filled, and any remaining burnt objects still on the land. Then, a road has been connected from the main path to Reinmar and through Krusev to keep Peremont. Establishment of Sunspire Towers Evil lies on our doorstep. Krusev stands behind Peremont, and Dobrov in front. Both allow evil to manifest themself. They fester and grow till they are strong enough to lash out with deadly force. It is with much care that these towers shall be built, which act as both a lookout and a defensive position against these creatures of destruction. In order that they might be used to their full potential, members of the Order of the Crow are permitted to use these towers for defensive purposes. Founding of The Esheveurd Vineyards Wine, Vines, and Grapes are a large part of the Savoyard Culture. Therefore, along with the founding of the new keep, vineyards have been planted to produce the finest wine in all of Almaris. These grapes are tended to daily and maintained by a variety of special fertilizers. The process to ferment and make this fruit into a fine alcoholic drink is long and tedious, but well worth the cost. Within the next few years, the first batches of Esheveurd Wine shall be released in these lovely bottles. Château Péremont - Red Wine Amour de l'aube - Red Wine Chaleur enflammée - Rosé Triomphe du Soleil - Rosé Soleil blanc - White Wine Éclat - White Wine “We have won - Not with words, but with deeds.” Signed, HIS LORDSHIP, Ser Sébastien ‘The White Sun’ Ashford de Savoie, Guardian of Keep Peremont, Palatine Kommissar, and Meyster Knight of Hanseti-Ruska,

Have npcs set up so that we can sell the items we grind for mina. Or Bounties to be completed where the npc asks for a certain amount of different items. Once completed, you recieve the mina. Maybe a limit to the number you can complete a day.

"Carlus" Sebastien chuckled.

Thomas didn't really know anything anymore. The Thomas that had once walked the streets of Providence and Vienne was long gone. He had been entrapped within his own mind for decades now. And so it was, that when he was walking home, along the paths he had once walked many times, He was not able to comprehend the happenings of the world. A band of men approached, faces covered and weapons unsheathed. Before he understood what had happened, he was laying upon the ground bleeding. And then he was dead. His children would get no information of his death, for when his body was discovered, nobody knew who it was. However, the body would be taken to Helious, for it was on the path leading there that he fell.

Borris Iver Kortrevich laughed, dipping his head at his lifelong friend’s passing… for she had fallen into a place that he was not able to go. "You didn't know, Adele- that was the beauty of it. You might have figured it out... but you didn't at the start." He said softly before setting the letter on the table. "Where I cannot follow... the title of my next poem."

What is an unusual action that someone does that irritates you? [For example, when people put milk in before cereal]

Selection of Poetry - Volume Twenty-Four Published the 7th of VYZMEY AG HYFF, 466 E.S. Ships of Brilliance Ahoy! A massive, master-crafted galleon, Celestially sailing the seas of time, Befittingly captained by a legion, Of stalwart souls, so brave and so fine. Its grandiose hull, fashioned with cedarwood, Varnished with care and precision, Its sails, a canvas of tapestry, Colors a-blazing with fiery ambition. And its decks, with such ostentatious decor, A wonderment of sights to behold, Laden with cannons of thunderous roar, Forever at the ready to unfold. The wind howls and the waves swell, O'er the grand galleon, a force of might, The ship, a marvel of naval craftsmanship, A titan of the seas, a timeless delight. Find Joy Musing on the panoply of life's vast array, The simplest of pleasures oft go astray. But when viewed with fresh eyes, in the morning's dawn, The minutest of joys can be found in a song. The air is alive, the birds a-singing, A cacophony of sound, like a joyous ringing. The wind whispers secrets, the sun its bliss, In these small moments, joy abounds in a kiss. The wonder of a blade of grass, a butterfly's flight, The beauty of a single star in the midnight sky so bright. The miracle of a single drop of dew, The majesty of a single snowflake, ah, what a view. In the grand scheme of life, joy is ever present, In the smallest of things, contentment can be found in an instant. Amid all the chaos, a tranquil peace awaits, In the most mundane of moments, joy can be embraced. Terror Lurks Inbetween the Spaces of Our Thoughts Fear of the unknown, dread of the unseen A demon of the mind, a fiend of the void The breath of uncertainty, the angst of the unknown Anxiety lurks, a monster that roams. The terror so deep, it's a chasm so wide A paralyzing burden, a shadow in tide A cloud of darkness, a specter of dread A festering unease, no hope ahead. The air thick in the depths, cold chill The mind in a fog, but yet will Soul in a prison, the agony of doubt A thought of despair, to be driven out. The phobia that lingers, entrapped that stays A fear of the unknown, that never will fade. A dark visage so deep, nothing shall budge It looms, lingers, a ecasended by vile sludge. Careless Careless, the thoughtless man may be, Who thinks he'll gain without a fee, For when the price of heedless haste, Is paid, he'll find it was a waste. The shallow path can seem so fair With sun and sky and gentle air, But when too late he's come to learn, That short cuts often cause concern. The careful man will take his time, With no thought of a future climb; He'll take the road that leads to peace, Away from selfishness and cease. Young and Spry Ah, to be wild, so free and full of glee, To roam and wander, with no cares to be, The days are long and golden, the night is ours to seize, The future is ours to make, we don't need to appease. Our hearts are brave and strong, our minds so full of hope, We can make a change, no matter how we cope, We'll climb the highest mountains, reach the furthest seas, Our dreams can be achieved, our will is our key. We can laugh and learn, be brave and be bold, Our lives are a journey, we must take the road, The days may be fleeting, but we won't forget, The memories we make, our youthful debt. Our days may be numbered, but we'll make time stand still, Our youthful moments, we'll cherish and fill. Where Where have you gone? The daylight fades, Bringing sight to stars unseen. My eyelids grow heavy. I cannot find where the time went, For when I looked out, it was morning, Yet as I blinked, when I opened my eyes, The sun had fled, conceding ground to the moon. Why have you gone by? Do you wish to deplete my life? You strain with every passing second, Till I am naught but exhausted. Hollowed Goodbye So long, my beloved. Loft of emotions to thy heart. A baleful requiem, Wounded desires, A dirge for a love that may never start. A guttural outcry of a heaving breath, The emotionally drained. Farewell then, my sweet loving death, An elegy of love ever constrained. Goodbye my light, A penitence of forever denied, A requiem for that never-ending love. Forlorn, we were never to part. A somber and melancholic crescendo, Yet the night sets, bringing upon the downcasted. Jokes on You You wished to force me out, But you have just drawn me closer, Pulling me to the goal I wished to accomplish. Why do you cackle as if you have won? Do you not see your foolishness, That your schemes have failed you? For what you thought was the greatest strike, A blow to hinder my pride and future, Allows the pendulum to swing. For I am now everything that I wanted to be, Sustained by the knowledge of my failures, So that I might learn and reform. SIGNED, HIS LORDSHIP, Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML

Like a super power, Borris Iver Kortrevich can sense when a poem has been written. His head lifts, scanning the room before getting back to his own works.

[!] Somewhere in the afterlife, Chagrin Frostbeard mutters "Black riders... of Urguan." He said whilst turning, just to watching all the other dwarves frown and shake their heads in dissapproval.

Borris Iver Kortrevich smiles and nods at the ballads, their tunes carrying well with his drink.

Korki Hammerfist flew around Almaris in his invisible jet. For both him and the jet never existed on LOTC.

Ser Sebastien scrambled across the documents he had just pulled from the Great Library till he found the one for which he was searching. He placed it upon the table, then placed this missive next to it. His eyes bounced back and forth at each of the crests. “Ah! Hmm, same crest as Basrid but blue- The lions are facing away... I wonder what the meaning behind it is.” The Savoyard Knight then shifted, jotting down notes in possible meanings and connections as he watched with bloodshot eyes.

"The logic in here is impeccable! I see not a single issue with this missive... at all!" Uttered a savoyard whilst rolling his eyes. "The Imagination of children never ceases to... amaze me."

Hallowed Adoration: A Canonist Hymnal - Volume III By Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML 12TH OF MSITZA AG DARGUND, 464 E.S. | 12TH OF HARREN'S FOLLY, 1911 Holy, Holy, Holy O Lord, Thou art the sacred one, In whom all holiness is done. Thy grace is like a rushing stream, That mends the broken seam. Thy mercy is a bright and shining light, That guides us through our darkest night. Thou art the One true God we serve, Thy name is known both far and wide. Thy holiness is a source of awe, It's beauty is beyond compare. Thy justice is a firm and mighty shield, That keeps us safe from any harm or fear. Thy kindness is a gentle dove, That rests upon us from above. Thou art the source of all our joy, And peace that comes from every boy. Thou art the One we can rely on, And trust in evermore. Thy love is like a fountain of life, That will never run dry or cease to flow. Thou art the One who hears our cries, And lifts us up when we are down. Thou art the One who can restore, Our broken hearts and make us whole. Thou art the One who shows us grace, And gives us strength to carry on. Thy holiness is a sacred thing, That never fades or grows old. We praise Thee, O Lord, For all the holiness Thou hast shown. May we ever seek Thy face, And walk in Thy ways alone. For Guidance We beseech Thee O Lord, who givest guidance to the meek, Thou hast bequeathed us with a righteous path, That we may traverse life's many peaks, And in Thy name, our burdens bear and wrath. The many saints of old, didst guide their way, To discern from evil and from truth, In their wisdom, didst mark the righteous way, And set a righteous path for all of youth. Their wisdom, Lord, didst pass to us, A light for those who do not see, A guiding hand for those in dust, A hope for those in misery. Their faith in Thee didst never waiver, Thou hast been ever in their heart, A guiding star for life's endeavor, A beacon of faith, to never part. The many saints of old, didst walk the path That Thou hast made for us to follow, For our faith in Thee, we shall not be surpassed, Our spirits, held high, and never hollow. Through life's journey, Thou hast been ever-present, Thou hast never forsaken us, Our souls, to Thee, shall be ever-sent, A prayer, that Thou wilt guide us just. We shall not fear the world's tribulations, For Thou hast promised us Thy grace, Thou, the true source of all salvation, Our guiding light, in all our space. We shall not stray from Thee, O Lord, For Thou hast given us the strength, To be guided by Thy very word, To follow in the path of saints. All glory be to Thee, O Lord, For Thou hast given us the grace, To be guided by Thy every word, And in Thy love, our lives embrace. Places of Holiness From hallowed grounds, to sacred spaces, Let us bow in reverent praise; For every minute in these holy places, We worship every passing day. We feel the power of the divine, Touched by the spirit from above, The awe and grace that's intertwined, Filling us with faith and love. O Lord, our souls You do inspire, Your presence so strong and wise, Your presence so close, yet ever higher, In holy places we realize. From mighty mountains to rolling hills, From the desert sands to the sea, We seek You without sacred shrines, We seek You, help us to see. We hear Your voice in the stillness, In the hymn of morning's light, Your love and grace our hearts do bless, In holy places, so pure and bright. Upon This Firm Foundation O God, from whose divine breath our nation did arise, We come to Thee in prayer, our voices lifted high, That Thou wouldst grant us wisdom, strength and clarity of sight To build a nation that reveres Thee, for all our days and nights. To forge a future based on justice, peace and equity, To establish justice, to do what is right and true, To ensure that all have access to what's required for life, A nation of which Thou wouldst be proud to be a part of. To inspire us to uphold values of truth, honesty and trust, To protect our neighbors and strangers, of any faith or creed, To seek the common good, to strive for the highest good, To build a nation that is godly in every way we should. We thank Thee for the grace to lead our people aright, To act with courage, honor and integrity in all our days, To make the world a better place through deeds of charity, To make a better world in which Thy love and truth abound. We seek Thy guidance, Lord, to build a nation based on Thee, Where justice, mercy and truth are held in highest esteem, Where we can all come together, every race, faith and creed, United in our love for Thee, in building a god-fearing nation. O’ God, Find me. O’ Lord, we oft have felt forsaken, Amidst our darkest, loneliest moments. Our souls have oft been sorely shaken, And life's sweet song has lost its luster. But You, in grace and mercy, stay, To seek us in our hour of need. Your presence saves us from dismay, Your healing love our hearts does feed. You stay and watch, You linger near, Your steadfast love doth never fail. Your Spirit's voice, so soft, we hear, And in Your arms, we are made whole. Your comfort and Your solace bring, A balm to soothe our souls' distress. Your grace and mercy, like an angel's wings, Grant strength and courage to confess. Blessed be Your name, O God of grace; Your wondrous works, our hearts enthrall. Your love for us, beyond all space, To You, we rise and sing, our call. Resilience Sing forth of the courage that resilience bestows, For it is the strength that carries us through our woes. When sorrow and despair threaten to consume, Resilience will help us to bear the impending doom. Though life can be daunting and fraught with dismay, Resilience will steady and guide us all the way. It is the fortitude that helps us not to yield, When toil and tribulation cause our hearts to bleed. Oh, what a blessed gift of divine providence, To be gifted with resilience in our defense. It is a stalwart shield from life's tenuous strife, Endowing us with the will to continue on with life. Hark! Hear the gentle whisper of resilience's voice, Filling us with a courage we never thought we had choice. It carries us on, through the darkest of night, Helping us to find strength in our fight for the light. Let us give thanks for this blessing of resilience, That carries us through even the most arduous of life's sequences. It is the salve that soothes away our sorrow, And the beacon that guides us. The Virtue of Patience Patience, thou art a virtue, Enduring through adversity, Persevering in tribulation, Thou art the pathway of serenity. Steadfast in thy resolution, Invulnerable in thy repose, Fortitude in adversity, Thou strength of character doth compose. Patience, thou art an elixir, Which in the midst of strife doth still, Tranquility in the storms of life, Thou art the harbinger of goodwill. Patience, thou art a treasured gift, Thou doth bestow on those who wait, Longsuffering and forbearance, Thou art the essence of life's great fate. The One Who is Truth Oh blissful truth and virtue pure, Encompassing all that can endure, Your radiant radiance doth shine, Illuminating our souls divine. Your steadfastness, a surety sublime, Lifts us up beyond time, Your constancy, a bedrock so sound, Our souls in rapture oft abound. Your strength, a fortress to protect, Our safety, a promise to perfect, Your worthiness, a beacon so worthy, Our faith, a trust in thee unfurled. Your trustworthiness, a bond so strong, A source of peace and rightness long, Your honor, a magnificence to behold, A grace of goodness to behold. Your truthfulness, a virtue so rare, A gift to us from up above, Your integrity, a grace so grand, A truth of goodness to withstand. Grow our Hearts Our hearts and souls aglow with love, As we journey through life's ups and downs; We seek the power of love to soothe, The trials that follow us and abound. Oh, love’s embrace, sweet and divine! Oh, love’s embrace, so sublime! Oh, love’s embrace, that we may know, The joys of life that we may show! We yearn for love's tender embrace, The comfort of its gentle caress; That we may be filled with its grace, The joys of life that we possess. Oh, love’s embrace, sweet and divine! Oh, love’s embrace, so sublime! Oh, love’s embrace, that we may know, The joys of life that we may show! Let us strive to share our love, In all that we do and all we say; Let us reach out with grace from above, That all may feel the love that we convey. Oh, love’s embrace, sweet and divine! Oh, love’s embrace, so sublime! Oh, love’s embrace, that we may know, The joys of life that we may show! The Grandeur of the Lord Let us sing a song of adoration to the God of wonders, He who created the universe and beyond, He who formed the stars and the galaxies in the heavens, He who holds the secrets of the ages in His hands. We marvel at the mysteries of His design and power, The grandeur of His handiwork in the wonders above, The beauty of His creation, the majesty of His love, The immensity of His wisdom, that we can scarce comprehend. Let us proclaim the wonder of His name, For in Him is greatness and glory untold, All of creation stands in awe of His might, For He is the God of wonders, the King of kings, and the Lord of lords. Let us extol His goodness and proclaim His mercy, For He is the source of all that is good and true, He guides the steps of the righteous and hears their prayers, Providing them with strength and comfort when they are in need. Let us bless His name and exalt His glory, For He is the Lord our God and the God of all creation, The One who spoke and all things came into being, The One who sustains and upholds all of life. Let us offer thanks and praise to the God of wonders, The One who has blessed us with life and love, The One who has given us the breath of life and the gift of grace, The One who has revealed His character and His will to us. He is the God of wonders, the One who never fails, The One who will never leave us nor forsake us, The One who will never cease to amaze us with His wonders, The One who will always be with us, no matter what. Hallelujah to our God of wonders, The One who is worthy of all our praise and worship, The One who is ever faithful and ever loving, The One who is our refuge and our strength! SIGNED, HIS LORDSHIP, Borris Iver Kortrevich, Kossar of Queen Maya and the Lily

Selection of Poetry - Volume Twenty-Three Published the 7th of VYZMEY AG HYFF, 464 E.S. Lily Pads From the depths of the verdant pond, Ascends a bed of lush lily pads Each pad a disc of pristine green, Vibrant in the sun's morning beam. An emerald carpet on the lake, The pads exude a subtle ache, A longing for the gentle breeze, To waft the scent of dew-dappled trees. The pads are just a part of the show, As the pond is encircled by willows, A canopy of emerald shade, Protecting the lilies in their glade. The lilies beckon the creatures of the deep, Promising them a bed of restful sleep. The koi, the frog, the turtle, and more, Come to the lilies seeking shelter from the shore. As the day drifts into night, The lilies glow in the moonlight. The lake is still, the air is hushed, The lilies lie in wait, undisturbed. But when the morning light returns, The lilies once again yearn For the birds, the bugs, and the fish, To come and be their companions in bliss. The lilies are a gentle reminder Of the beauty that lies beneath the pond's surface, A sanctuary of tranquillity, Where the creatures and lilies can find serenity. So the next time you visit the lake, Take a moment to admire the lilies' grace, Let their beauty take your breath away, And be thankful for the lilies' sway. Lays of Sin Lust corrupts the righteous, a bane to all good men, Enveloping their minds in a web of sin, A fatal weakness they cannot comprehend. Shadowing their path, it beclouds their sight, Ravaging their conscience and numbing their might, Leading them astray, away from the light. The righteous man, blind to his own defeat, Is unaware of the danger he must meet, His lustful heart too strong for his own feet. It lures him in, tempting him with delight, A false sense of security, a false sense of might, A false sense of power, that never brings light. He succumbs to temptation, no longer free, A prisoner of his own vanity, A slave to his own instinctive need. His soul is no longer pure, no longer free, Crippled by the chains of his own greed, He is no longer righteous, no longer me. The righteous man, now lost and astray, No longer knows the right from the wrong way, He has succumbed to the will of the wicked sway. Lust corrupts the righteous man, A powerful force that no one can, No one can withstand, no one can ban. But there is still hope, still a way, For the righteous man to be saved, For him to find the strength and the will to be brave. He must find the courage to look within, To confront his demons and face his sins, To embrace his weakness and begin again. For only then will he be saved, From the fate of his own depraved, And from the darkness that lust has enslaved. Winter Fades The frost withers the white tapestry, Dissolving it into oblivion, The canvass grows dull and grey, Paled by the eroding heat of spring. Grievous was the chill of winter, Yearning for spring's warmer climb, But now, in the half-light of morning, Fades the painting of snow's sublime. Passing away like a long-lost dream, The snowfall's meandering flows, The moment of serenity, so brief, It had to part, no one knows. Farewell then, the snow's white beauty, It has succumbed to the sun's ray, For in the future, it will be remembered, As a fond winter day. But with downy flakes, Light touches turned to weight, It slowly melts and seeps away, A sign of what was here today. It's proof of transient, gentle peace, But also ages old decease. For with time comes new, And ignorance of what once grew. So, as the sun gains power, The snow to hide and cower, And what was once sacred, Fades, forgotten and aged. The frost-biten day corrodes, Forgotten by younger load. Trampled by the youth and lost, A moment of glory that was once the cost. But in the twilight of the day, The snow remains and stays as a way, To remember what once was, What war and time cannot cause. Sickly A blight that spills from heart to heart, A poison that pervades with a vicious start; It strikes with a chill and leaves us bereft, The wounds that it causes, deep and deft. It sneaks in like a fog, its tendrils unseen, A mire of despair and a tangle of mean; A taint of the soul, its claws wrapped tight, A cold and malicious, malevolent blight. It seeps through the cracks and settles like dust, A blight on the land and a bane on us; It looms like a spectre, a monster unseen, And gives us no respite, no peace between. It strikes in the night and lingers in the day, A scourge on our souls with no way to stay; It trails in its wake a long, drawn-out sigh, The life of time, and a soul's passing cry. Writing Breaths Life Imbued with a power that transcends, The wit of the pen is sublime, It knows no bounds, no end, Not even for time. The wit of the pen does not cease, But ever so quietly agitates, It stirs the hearts of the meek, And the powerful it sedates. The power of wit is undeniable, It's more than just a word, It carries a message, a plea, A voice that is rarely heard. The ink of the pen is a tool, That can shape and mould, It can enlighten the ignorant, And challenge those who are bold. The spirit of the pen can create, And its power can destroy, It can bring forth the truth, Or be used to decoy. The fire of a pen is truly alive, It's an ever-evolving art, It's the voice of the voiceless, And the power of the heart. The Night Sky Bright and brilliant, the stars of night, Dance across the sky in flight, Their gleaming light a splendid sight, A celestial beauty so bright. Twinkling above in the midnight sky, A million tiny points of light, Illuminating the deep abyss, Filling the night with sheer delight. Gazing upon this marvelous sight, The heavens open up in splendor, Revealing the glorious solar might, A wondrous sight to remember. The brilliance of the starlit height, A glorious display of might, Awe-inspiring and so divine, A sight that will last until time. The Gap Between You are too far away, An inconsolable distance between us, My longing for you ever increasing, My heart aching in its absence. The time that passes without you, An eternity of sorrowful moments, The tears that I cry for you, Reminding me of what could have been. The emptiness that lingers in my soul, A desolate void in my being, My longing for you ever growing, The reality of our separation all too real. My love for you never ceasing, Though the miles that separate us, My spirit is weakened by our distance, The longing for you ever present. The chasm between us ever widening, My anguish ever deepening, The thought of us ever apart, Tearing me apart piece by piece. They Rise and Subside The mighty ocean in its vastness, Clinging to the shoreline's caress, The waves in their ceaseless motion, Drawing us closer to their embrace, The awe-inspiring might of the sea, Its relentless pull of gravity, The waves crash and roar, In majestic symphony, The tranquil bays and coves, The gentle sway of the tide, The waves lapping at the shore, A soothing lullaby of the sea, The glorious beauty of nature's art, The power of the water' force, An ever-changing, breathtaking view, The waves, our timeless source. SIGNED, HIS LORDSHIP, Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML