Publius

Rodric notes the Globalists, and consults an adviser who warns of potential conspiracy. Nodding along, he began to understand - rather than conquer minor nations, they would just use this system to create the vassals of the coming Orenian reformation. Sweating, the Estermont man would gaze out the window, peering out from his table at the Belvitz tavern. Following the advice of the counselor, he would no longer drink water from the streams, for fear they were likely poisoned with something that could make him homosexual by foreign agents (as proven by behavioral studies of toads by the stream). Good Rodric did not wish though for the potential New World Order to do anything that escaped his knowing though, so he planned to finally attend one of these meetings.

Voter Registry and Guilds Act A prayer of peace and fortune upon you good citizen, Gazing forth upon our bright future, all wait with impatience and anxiety towards our first election. Let all heed this; we know what foundations the election will rest upon. We, in our deliberations to decide who ought to have the right to vote, came to a simple conclusion; any with work, or affiliation with the industry in which through a Republic comes to thrive. Henceforth, Guilds shall be formed and membership therein will determine one’s right to vote. Guildmasters will be chosen carefully and allowed to give these voting rights to those working aneath them, and furthermore be able to select candidates for elevation to Consul. Each Guild will be heralded first by their mandate, which must be affirmed by either a majority of Consuls or the acting Magnate. Should the workers of a specific profession of a Guild grow to a great enough number, they may petition to form their own Guild. This too will be affirmed or denied by a majority of the Consuls or the acting Magnate. The elder Guild will be compensated and their mandate updated; such division and diversity is a sign of success and will not go unrewarded. Voting rights must be given at least 2 Saint’s Days prior to an election to be valid for said election, otherwise they will not have permission to vote until the following election. Following our first election, the Magnate will no longer hold the ability to form Guilds and approve of mandates without the blessing of at least half of the acting Consuls. Though we have not made this declaration without necessary preparation, all those who wish to propose themselves as Guildmasters or approach with companies of a profession are encouraged to do so. Long live the Republic, God bless our nation. Rodric Estermont, Magnate of Belvitz [The_Contemptuous]

Interim Administration of Vrakai Lo to the laymen and artisans of fair Vrakai. Our fair Republic now courses towards a need for change, a change that will see our mandate of merit and self-determination flourish. Over the decade or so since our formation, we have built Belvitz to be a grand home and have fended off the vultures. What remains to be seen though is an election. Ensuring that the whims of masses do not decide our course, but that the work of the productive citizen ensures the protection our home, the esteemed Estermont family has been entrusted with the organization of the town preceding our first election. Rodric Estermont will as Consul be tasked with creating a system in which our citizenry will be able to coalesce into pillars of our society. Approaching now is a tide of reform that will simply see our goals come to fruition. To the fair citizens who have remained with us through our growth and toils, and those who seek opportunity, look forward to the formation of guilds. Industrious citizens, lords of crafts and the like, seek our new Consul if you may wish to lead one of these illustrious institutions. Legislation concerning the guilds, their goals, and their responsibility will soon be announced to the fair people. Signed, - Reginald d’Amaury, Praeceptor of Vrakai [SaintPaint] - Ludovico di Monteforte, First Consul of Vrakai [LukyLucaz] - Rodric Estermont, Magnate of Vrakai [The_Contemptuous]

I keep checking my watch because I swear this was well past due when it was posted (like magic for Canonism)

Between two mighty sideburns, a brow would loft on good Rodric Estermont's face! "Say, I hope they march around Vrakai if these raids escalate!"

A young and aggravated Estermont drunkard bellowed in his family's repossessed tavern in fair Cyrilsburg, buying drinks for all who would listen as he began to rant and rave. All present were subject to the same three tunes he paid the bard to play... "Gross misconduct, I would damn myself to say! Why, they never tried my barbecue ribs, they have never had me mix them a drink!" The man wailed as he whipped his head back. "How were they to know what great fortunes my family could bring them before I happened upon this place..." As one of his servants danced without a hint of joy, tired of the Aeldenic bagpipe tunes, impoverished folks from as far as the city slums began to file into the tavern... "Imagine - happy hours every week! Folks far and near would be able to step in and gaze upon a fine, fat swine spinning over a fire! Mead so damn sweet, the butchers would have triple the work removing teeth alone! My man what a great show I could put on, alas, here I sit, drunk in a tavern that is no longer an Estermont establishment. Bah!" Soon the young man's tab was run up to the Seven Skies - but here now sat an audience, beholden to this man. From the back of the line nearest the Estermont boy, a thick necked sheep herder looked to him and offered an encouraging plaque stained smile that almost glowed yellow at the words of the young man! "Mark my words, I, Rodric 'Hot Rod' Estermont, shall find the Chief Imbecile or whomever stripped from me my right to drink for free and pound his jaw in so thoroughly, his overbite will have him looking like a bird!" War weary peasants cheered at the violent and vulgar outburst as they drank away the woes of Renatian raids. Finally, obscured by the crowd, a cheeky young lad would holler, "Why don't you just run for Chief Imbecile and just take it back?! We are having our mayoral election soon!" So thoroughly tinged was the drunk Estermont's pride that he shot up from his seat, startling some of the closer onlookers now! "If I can, then I shall! You good people would be entitled to a government subsidized drink after each work day if so, I would host beauty pageant's galore, and by GOD there would be so much revenue running through Cyrilsburg that the moat would be made of molten GOLD!" Onlookers cheered at the fantastical claims, beginning now to chant drunkenly for this unlikely candidate! "HOT ROD, HOT ROD, HOT ROD!" Chugging his drink, he would slam down his empty tankard and offer a mighty pelvic thrust, "Let's see the city deny this!" Ensuing calamity would see the tavern closed early and many rabble-rousers in the streets, but amongst those who did not drink all memory of the night away were the first supporters of Rodric. Many cases would be made for the newcomers sudden bid for mayor; Some were fantastical, others were completely nonsense - but all came from excited lips.

Hadrian ran his hand through his hair, his eyes wandering the skies and the tundras with anxiety atop Vischgau Pass. This winter had been brutal, and the earth quaked just from the oncoming wave of bad news; messanger hooves were loud after the portal opened aneath Allemagne. Horses broke legs trying to navigate over the thin layer of snow and thick layer of ice...

Deep in the south, a young adventurer named Hadrian heard of the oath breaker from Malin, Ascended speaking around his camp in hushed tones. Frowning, he made no fuss - but he noted the dishonour. This Prince's case became a cautionary tale to the Knight Errant, hardening his resolve to turn his back on the politics of the north and embrace his own duties.

Wow thanks b0ss!

[!] As you wander about your business, you may see a missive or two - perhaps even a crier advertising a band of Errants from the deep south. Should you investigate, you would hear the following… [!] A Raevir crier on the streets of Markev, 1650 “To those who seek valour and adventurous amongst you, Wraith banners were rebuffed in the south by the united forces of many amongst humanity. From the wall they marched, and against it were they smashed - but as raids seem to develop into open battles, who can be counted upon to heed the call the next time they sally? Amongst the many who leave for the campaigns and skirmishes erupting across the lands are those best suited to defend their homes, be it from the undead or daring among thieves. For some there seems to be no choice, but I wish to offer an alternative - an honourable living as a Knight Errant of Allemagne. South, in the pass that cuts through the Allemagne mountain range do we now set up camp as we establish a bulwark. Up north, arrangements for lodges in every major settlement are being made - you do not need to break your feudal obligations, or that of your serfdom to serve the people in need. We beckon mages and alchemists to aid us in understanding this threat, clergy of Canon to guide our men in faith, and those of skill with a blade or craft of any kind. We enforce no policy of discrimination, nor will the undead whence they strike. Send a bird destined for Markev, Hunghaga or Sennisten, and I, Hadrian Clovannus, will find it and seek you. Otherwise, may the Sun Smile upon your path, and your shield wall blunt all blows. Knight-Errant d’Allemagne, Hadrian Clovann.”

Hadrian Clovannus sat pleased - there was no room in Atlas for Lotharingia, and its treacherous past was better left to history to be forgotten than relived. Taking much comfort from the declaration, he continued his questing in the Yatl Wastes.

"A Republic? Interesting..." Hadrian Clovann says with a keen interest!

"They could surely be no more degenerate now!" Hollers a Southern man angrily, "Comic sans is inexcusable! We need to put these dogs DOWN!"