Publius

Whilst you mill about your day in boredom, yearning for anything to annihilate the monotony of your home and work life, you hear some cute gals giggling about over some gossip. You cannot help yourself, and you are simply overcome with curiosity – what you hear is a story of the ages! Said gals you have so rudely listened on upon! ”Divorce? How could she divorce Ser Crétin? So what if he did not write it if she has been moved to marry!” Said the uglier of the two! ”Do you not see? She fell in love with the words of the poem, not the man – she claims now to love this troubadour in finding out the truth of the piece’s origins!” Chimes the prettier and more reasonable of the duo. ”But even so, what does that matter? She would leave him for not alone producing these honeyed words?” Droning on, you almost agree with this negative nancy... ”Honeyed words or not, it is what kept them together! Without it, they are not one in marriage! Lady Crétin apparently even learned his name and by reading the mail the Lord and this poet sent one another...” Your brows nearly touch your hairline with anticipation, your fascination making you look suspiciously stimulated for a bystander! ”Well, out with it, who’s this troublesome bard?” Hisses the hag, and you are nearing ready to give her what for in lacking any sense of romance when finally it is said - ”Timeo du la Baltas. He rides the roads now, breaking hearts, writing stories, and taking commissions wherever he goes. Some say he sends Lady Crétin flowers even to this day...” Finally now, you are spotted by these two, and they look to you with discomfort and disgust before they happen away. Embarrassed you may be, you are now alerted to an opportunity to hire this more sensational Troubadour!

let me be the first to suggest a mike duncan approach rather than a dan carlin theatrics – unless a powerful voice actor or narrator is at play

An old elf who’s mind was muddied in his advanced age recalls and forgets several instances he relates to this. His distant and glossy gaze now looked onto the mercenary encampment and saw in them the austere rangers of old, and the hardness of heart they possessed that won the Wood Elves their freedom long ago. From it, he turned towards the Dominion, and pondered on the few High Elven maxims about the importance of civilization and the rigidness of old Malinor that he managed to recall. Perhaps the civilization was too rigid, as it had long since shattered against the forces of deviance. Squinting, he had tears in his eyes as he grit his teeth, but they soon went away as he became aware of his meal. It soon all faded from his thoughts, the forgetful old elf enjoying the simple pleasures of a roast with his friends.

Septimius looked over the Baltas, outside of the Sarkozic keep where a bridge once reached Vilacz. Styria was not a land of weak people, and he beheld the Margrave’s hold with some tension. Tales of mace-catchers now came with descriptions of broken skulls, and the aging Knight hoped not to return from his ratslaying to bear witness to a new tale being written. Away to Santegia he rode, sending gifts and letters to the Styrian lords as a quiet tribute.

RP) WHAT IS YOUR NAME?: Vamir HOW OLD ARE YOU?: 893 HAVE YOU EXPERIENCE WITH COMBAT?: A few centuries, give or take DO YOU AGREE TO UPHOLD HONOR AND TRADITION?: Aha, no doubt! (OOC) MCNAME: Coupublius DISCORD: Publius#1947

Friendly, sassy and motivated +1

”God preserve Illatia, God preserve the Heartlands” Dusk had loomed over the Heartlander estates of Ardennes, and men in the company of Septimius Bracchus brought food before Summerhall as a commotion came into view. Quickly, these men readied their blades and entered to the sight of dead Illatian folks – one an old time friend of the Bracchi family, Marco d’Montelliano. Beholding his body, the man remained with draped in despair, burying his old friend before his body could be dumped in the Baltas. There was little optimism in the man as he saw clearly now how much progress would be lost upon his people and ideals. Soon the madness that the man witnessed, he read a series of decrees – the Margrave renounced his titles, and the vassals lost heart in his leadership. For all of the Chancellor’s work, nothing would be left to show for it. Looking out towards the Goldfields, Septimius would simply lament. His Illatian brothers become kindred again, and he himself lost the prestige of his position and work. Saddling his horse, he rode to Carolustadt, unsure of his future and that of his people. Passing Adria, he saw a see of disheartened Heartlanders return to Belvitz.

Name: Septimius Bracchus Year of Birth: 1649 Residency: Carolustadt (MC Name: Coupublius)

Larry C. C. prepares a sign, showing phallic images he drew from memory falling into the stinky moat of Summerhall! Though his artistic genius would only be understood by some, his aid to the cause using the extensive education he had gained at Odo’s Art Academy would surely be invaluable.

Septimius remembers often the strength and grit of Konyves, and how by his cunning and resolve, the heartlander revolt of Adria was soundy defeated! He knew how fatal underestimating the Styrians might be...

Hey friendos, been rather bored with the character I have been developing - not that I will get rid of them, but I have put my money on a storyline that requires a build to be completed before I can see much more done with the character. As such, just looking for an opportunity to join an RP community! Discord is Publius#1947 if you wish to chat, feel free to post on here or message me.

This guy? I like this guy! +1