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Sporan

Nation Leader
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About Sporan

  • Rank
    Coal Miner
  • Birthday 10/15/1998

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    Blancharizard#0001
  • Minecraft Username
    BlanchCRP
  • Email
    digitalgamerftw@gmail.com

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Just random places
  • Interests
    Mineman Pretend Play + some film junk

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Pierce Devereux
  • Character Race
    Heartlander

Recent Profile Visitors

1,498 profile views
  1. Pierce would be read the news aloud from his bedside, his form unmoving as his dull eyes drifted around. Not a whimper or expression would be seen, yet a lone tear would drift down the man’s cheek, as his thoughts continued to wander.
  2. Declaration of Regency Issued and Confirmed on the 9th of Sun’s Smile, 1737 In light of recent events regarding King Pierce I Devereux’s illness and confinement to bed, a regency council has been appointed amongst his Majesty’s privy council, to govern the state of affairs within the Kingdom of Curonia, until such a time when William II Edward Devereux is of age to ascend to the throne. To head this regency council will be Angelo de Alba of the Ursurian Knights, until such a time for the transition of power to the rightful heir. The Green Tide rises, for we stand as one. Signed, Ser Angelo de Alba, Lord Regent and Grand Knight of Curonia
  3. A King and his Fall [!] The battles had been fought and won, humanity once more unified and glorious in a grand stand against the injustices perpetrated against its kind and kin. For what seemed like a lifetime, Pierce’s existence had been veered towards the betterment of humankind, both of his Kingdom and an Empire with which he wished to bring to the forefront of global presence. Having lived a lifetime of successes and failures in this ambition, this united front, a common goal, a common humanity, had sent waves of pride down Pierce’s body, the brightest of smiles present spread across his countenance. To see humanity finally together, after many years of outright squabble and conflict to salt the wounds of a dying pride, was a joy like none other. A joy short lived. For what stirred in Pierce’s mind after the triumph of victory was polar to his heart and body. His eyes would twitch a moment, before collapsing to his knees, his digits curling into the finer cloth of his tunic, gripping at his chest. The pain shooting throughout the course of his body leaving him short of breath, Pierce would gasp for air, but would not find it. A panic would ensue as he clawed at his chest, begging for a breath. And then...darkness. The King would stir within his bed, a lone servant sitting along his bedside, a glass of water perched at his right along the wooden structure of his bedside cabinet. His breathing short and his body fatigued, he would look about, barely moving his head about his neck, his entire form screaming in pain as he does so. He’d blink begrudgingly, his gaze drifting to that of his servant. The words to escape his lips were brief and quiet, but spoke directly. The servant quickly left the room, leaving Pierce within the confines of his room, his head settling forward as he looked at the ceiling of his palace room. His light blue eyes fixated on nothing in particular as he simply laid in solitude, his mind unable to find the ability to wander as it once had.
  4. Pierce would look with a smile at his growing militia, outfitting each one with standard Curonian arms. “Ave Orenia.” He’d nod in affirmation, preparing for battle.
  5. Pierce would mourn the loss of Mars. Truly, a tragedy. One that shan’t be forgotten.
  6. “I can only hope and pray no other nation faces a disaster to scale with the voidal attack in Curonia, should it, we shall provide plentiful support.” Pierce would retract a fanciful quill from his pouch, signing the document at the bottom.
  7. Pierce watches a new generation of Ironwood rise once more, a look of delight spread across his face.
  8. Pierce begins to prepare his armies to march upon the Orcish lands, sharpening his blade with fierce determination.
  9. To Our Dearest Allies in the East; An Open Letter to the Earldom of Morsgrad Written and Confirmed by 2nd of Owny’s Flame, 1734 To our dearest allies in the east, I write to the Earldom of Morsgrad with naught but love in my heart for my military brethren by way of the Imperial crown. We regret the misunderstanding of the canonist demesne that has reached your halls. Indeed, it is my hope that one day you may join us within the Imperial realm, so that you may better understand our law and custom. But until the day comes that we become bound not only in alliance but by our common overlord, I shall explain the legality of the transference of titles. Those who still remember the War of Two Emperors shall recall that prior to the war, the House of Merentel was a legal vassal of the Kingdom of Curonia. Indeed, the House of Merentel has been bound by blood and feudal law to the House of Devereux and its predecessors for nearly two centuries. Therein, by restoring the feudal and God given order of the realm, we have established a previously unattainable stability for the Imperial demesne. Like a family, the peers and citizens of the Kingdom of Curonia often feud. The war drove a wedge between the Crown of Curonia and its beloved subjects in the House of Merentel. But as any family, after we fight, we mend our relations, and move forward. Once we accept an individual or group into our fold, we shall fiercely and passionately defend them, by pen or by sword, irregardless of their past transgressions. Though once estranged, the House of Merentel is welcomed with open arms into the fraternal bindings of the Ursus. It is a terrible regret that you have felt the urge to violate and threaten the principles of non aggression that have agreed upon with the Empire in the treaty of Morsgrad of 1721, and reaffirmed in the Pact of the Mountain of 1733. However, the Imperial citizens of Curonia and Eastmark are a passionate and pragmatic people, especially with regards to our fellow man. We understand your misconception of feudal law and your lack of education on our ancient precedents. Therefore, in honor of the Treaty of Morsgrad, we not only forgive your threat to our people, but encourage your to reinvest in the once strong alliance between the Renatians, Norlanders, and Curonians. We open our Kingdom to you and your people, and invite you to feast with us as friends and allies of old. We honor the Peace of Adrian Sarkozic, and we honor you. Will you come reciprocate our honor, and feast as friends and brothers, or will you break your treaty with our Lord Protector, just two months after its enactment? Yours truly, King Pierce Devereux
  10. The Coming of a People Issued and confirmed by His Royal Majesty Pierce I of the House of Devereux, 7th of Horen’s Calling, 1734 With the beginning and end Vintas amidst humanity comes a new time for renewal and celebration. Curonia has graciously accepted the Merentel family into its nobility and ranks once more, and from such, have seen fit that a great celebration is in order, for both the newly accepted citizens of Eastmark and the citizens and nobility of the Kingdom of Curonia. A long standing history with strong and versatile roots calls for a strong bond between the two families, and to partake in the festivities seems only fit! Those invited shall partake in a feast and festivities, as the camaraderie between the newly received citizenry mingle and interact. The following are to receive an invitation: The House Devereux and citizenry and nobility of Curonia The House Merentel and citizenry and nobility of Eastmark ((OOC: The festival shall take place within Curonia on Friday at 12 PM EST))
  11. Royal Letters for the Duchy of Eastmark Issued and confirmed by His Royal Majesty Pierce I of the House of Devereux, 7th of Horen’s Calling, 1734 We are moved to reward the steadfast service of our loyal subject, Tobias of the House of Merentel, by extending to them posthaste a tenure in fealty to our King. We do by this patent reward Tobias with special esteem and grace, wherein they shall enjoy the style, dignity, title, and honor belonging to the ruler of the Duchy of Eastmark. The lands to which they are entrusted to govern on behalf of our Kingdom are located near the R0yal City of Avalain, where once sat the county seat of Oldenburg. –HIS GRACE, the DUKE of EASTMARK, TOBIAS of the HOUSE of MERENTEL– Through this patent, we do make known to the realm and to the world at large that Tobias is a leader in our Kingdom. We do also dignify, invest, and ennoble Tobias by placing into his hand a modest sword of gold, and a rod of old, to have and to hold—and we do extend these gifts unto him as well as the designated legal heirs of his body. He may hitherto enjoy and employ all the rights and privileges due to a peer of such stature. By your witness, and by the witness of God Almighty, we have willed these letters to be made patent, with the full force of law behind them. Signed, HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Pierce I of House Devereux, King of Curonia, Duke of Curon & Umbra, Vintas Count of Albion, Arbor, Avalain, Blackreach & Cyrilsburg, Baron of Alsace, Arisan, Frosthold, Rivia & Vasile, and Lord of Avernia, Bear Mountain & Blackden.
  12. Pierce would walk amongst the carnage of the battle, letting a sigh fall loose from his lips as he looked between survivors and the dying alike. Once the rubble had cleared, a monument in honor of the survivors had been erected, with the names of the fallen inscribed upon it. Just underneath the name of a familiar Olog lay the name of the Vintasian Duke, once scorned by Curonia, now dying not only for it, but all of Arcas. Graham, though late, would walk amongst the Seven Skies, meeting Sergius at the gates.
  13. To Remember the Fallen Issued and Confirmed 12th of Owyns's Light, 1733 The forces of Arcas rode into the city in packs, some mounted atop armored horses, others walking alongside the bustling streets in droves. The various armors and colors would glint in the sunlight as they confidently strode forward, prepared to defend Curonia and Arcas against any of the voidal horrors that presented themselves before the blades of the valiant soldiers. No sooner than when the armies had begun to settle in their place, awaiting amongst the various space and houses that scattered across the voidal crystal ridden city, would a stirring begin to take place underneath their very feet… With a sudden eruption from the ground, two fleshy beasts would emerge, crying outwards in a desperate plea for sustenance as they hungrily looked to the gathering of the Descendants, preparing to feast upon their newly acquired targets. However, the speed and ferocity of the citizens of Arcas were duly noted, as their forces began to charge and rush forward towards the beasts, swords drawn, spears leveled, bows drawn. An atmosphere of magic would course through the air as various mages began to alight their surroundings with sparks of arcane energy, beginning to fizz throughout the wind as each bolt met its target, striking into the fleshy substance that was these voidal terrors. Blood, flesh, and gore would spill from the creatures as the Descendants continued their relentless assault, undaunted by the task before them. Just as swiftly as the mighty had risen, they had just as swiftly been sent back to where they came from, facing the vengeful wrath of a combined force of humans, elves, orcs, and dwarves. Meanwhile, whilst the battle between the Descendants and the two voidal spawns occurred, a different problem was occurring within the streets of the manor districts. Separated from the main forces of Arcas, this group of warriors was tasked with a difficult mission of destroying waves upon waves of different beings, each seemingly more impossible than the last. Mountains of bodies would begin to pile as the Descendants pushed through this ocean of enemies, with many casualties beginning to form against the tide of the void. However, through sheer determination, the forces of Arcas cleaved through the last of the overwhelming voidal forces, taking a moment of rest to begin healing the wounded and count their losses. Though, it would not be long before another rumbling, far greater in magnitude would begin to appear in the ground beneath them, a familiar voice echoed out over the city as the various armies and citizenry of Arcas lifted their heads… Colossal and monstrous, with an innate ability to inspire dread within the Descendants, Mother was fast to act. Her tendrils shot from her form with the speed of a bullet, as a disgusting cry of terror bellowed from her maw, the various women and children of Curonia, along with soldiers and mages of the armies, were sucked into the darkened abyss of Mother, their cries being the last thing heard before they disappeared forever. Shocked, but not broken, the Descendants were quick to act as they began to slash at the various appendages that shot outwards, while the Paladins, led by Lefkos, began casting spells meant to bring the beast downwards, grounding it long enough for their forces to attack. Atop the beast, a lone figure would emerge tossing down a small gemstone towards the Descendants, shouting towards them to catch it. An aged Curonian Knight would charge forward, rushing to catch it, staring down as he did so. A look of recognition would cross his face as he’d blink, before allowing Mother’s tongue to take hold of him, pulling him back upwards as the creature began to soar above the city. A maniacal laughter erupted as Mother consumed the Knight whole, soaring high above the buildings, though a faint beeping would be heard from her core. The Descendants would look onward in horror as the creature filled them with dread once more. However, the creature’s laughter would be short lived as an explosion would would suddenly erupt from within its core, shattering the voidal being as its entrails would splatter across the city of Avalain. With Mother defeated and the denizens of Arcas now taking a moment of solace to tend to their wounded and dying, a collective breath of relief would flood across the people. If but for a moment, the Descendants cared not for boundaries and race, culture and ethos. They simply cared for each other. A threat so consuming that not only lives were taken from them, but borders. They looked to one another in a familiar bond, not seeing the prejudices that would once before separate and embolden them to act against one another, but would instead cherish and revel in their camaraderie. They took their time in this bond, continuing to care for one another, to indulge in this feeling of brotherhood, to tend to the wounded of their number, and to remember the fallen.
  14. MysteryMan is a legend, can’t change my mind

    1. Tha_Mystery_Man

      Tha_Mystery_Man

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