Wavey

A passerby stopped for a moment to witness this strangely aroused, involuntarily celibate individual’s self-ego massage. The passerby was about to mention that the Lotharian new generation zoomers likely don’t really care for this overgrown man's unnecessary meat riding of a long dead nation but he then remembered that he doesn’t really play on this server anymore. He simply walked past the strange man while whispering a prayer for the individual’s mental and physical wellbeing.

Very well written. I feel at home.

A Crow’s Abdication Issued by the DUCHY OF KVASZ 14th of Sun’s Smile, 2052 ༻⊰───────────────⊱༺ ⠀𓄿⠀༻⊰───────────────⊱༺ Duke of Kvasz, Robert Ludovar, has fallen gravely ill. As a final act in his bedridden state, the former Duke shall transfer the governance and titles of his holdings to his son and heir, Lord Heinrik Ludovar. May the LORD grant him wisdom to manage the affairs of the family’s holdings. ༻⊰──────────────────────────────⊱༺ HIS GRACE, HEINRIK PINKHASOV LUDOVAR, Duke of Kvasz, Count of Otistadt, Viscount of Sezwesk, Baron of Isaakev, Juliksburg & Stefansgrad, Lord of Ricksburg & Brandzgaard, Patriarch of the House of Ludovar. THE HONOURABLE, ROBERT AUDEMAR LUDOVAR, Duke Emeritus of Kvasz

The Alstion of Zenorein bowed to no man but for Roger and John, he'd give his life. Thus, when the last Druscans were overrun he held his ground for as long as he could until a blade met his heart. He laid there in his own pool of blood as he drew his final breath upon the rooftops of Castle Waldemar with a smile.

Tournament Participation Form Full Name (incl. title, if applicable): Robert Audemar Ludovar Nation: Empire of Man House: Ludovar [[IGN: ]] Waveysaurus

The Duke of Kvasz closed his eyes upon hearing the news. He signed the Hussariyan upon his chest before making his way to Drusco to give his friend his condolences.

The Templar-Shepherd, now just a missionary for the Rhenyar and the occasional pastor for the Lotharians, reads the writings of his once colleague. he had seen enough and heard enough throughout his long tenure. Yet, as he nears the latter stage of his life, he cannot help but laugh. “And then there are those to whom the LORD provides a gift. But when they ask for another HE provides it to them without question. Then they ask for a third, HE provides it thrice-more without question. And then they ask the fourth time, once again HE does not deny their request. But the fifth becomes a demand and then the sixth becomes a threat. HE grants the fifth and sixth; But there is no warmth in the bounty within their hands; For when they look up they realize that HIS patience wears thin.”

A once shepherd now residing within Rhen came across the missive quite easily. As he read the clerical manifesto and its signatures, he did not convey an expression. Rather, his gaze went to the blade sheathed to his side. He then contemplated. The LORD did not end his sown thread upon the tapestry just yet. But, for what reason?

Robert Ludovar smiles when he receives the invitation and the thoughtful box of sweet treats. He circles the date on the calendar before making preparations for himself and his family to attend!

The Duke of Kvasz is sad his people didn’t get invited to the really cool party. He makes a D: face as he twiddles his thumbs.

The Malfeasant flames had reached the town of Stefanyov first. The destructive aftermath was evident from the smokes that rose above the highlands . It was there that He made a vow to uphold his oaths to the Emperor. After all, it was the imperium that came to his defense.

Funeral for the Late Sigmund Karl Ludovar Issued by the DUCHY OF KVASZ On the 11th of Tobias’ Bounty of 2033 ༻⊰───────────────⊱༺ ⠀𓄿⠀༻⊰───────────────⊱༺ Portrait of the late Duke of Kvasz, Sigmund ‘The Stalwart’ Karl Ludovar 1962 - 2032 ____________________________________ Silver Crow shall rest, His tale begins within the snowcapped mountains of the former kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska, and it ends as a loyal peer of the Empire of Man. He shall now rest after having fulfilled twenty-four years of service to both his former kingdom and within the Empire of Man. He held his titles in stride; for he had shown his merit to his inheritance throughout his tenure. None shall dare contest his worthiness as Patriarch of the House of Barbanov-Ludovar. Here ends the tale of Sigmund ‘The Stalwart’ Karl Ludovar; A duke, politician, soldier, husband, and father. Let us bid him farewell on the early eve of the end of this Saint’s Week. ༻⊰───────────────⊱༺ ⠀𓄿⠀༻⊰───────────────⊱༺ HIS GRACE, ROBERT AUDEMAR LUDOVAR, Duke of Kvasz, Count of Otistadt, Viscount of Sezwesk, Baron of Isaakev & Juliksburg, Lord of Ricksburg & Brandzgaard, Patriarch of the House of Ludovar.

I saw it. Let him go.

From the northern coasts of Rhen, a shepherd heard the fateful words… (Reserved, tbc)

Name: Robert Affiliation: Kvasz Relevant Titles or Aliases: N/A

Viktor did not understand the concept of loss. He was barely the age of one summer after all. Nevertheless, an uncertain future now awaited the young child; For his father was not there to guide him. - - - He felt it first within his stomach, a sudden stinging sensation; a premonition. The Ludovar sat upright in his chair with furrowed brows. His head turned towards the window beside his study, and there he saw the rising smoke in the distance, miles beyond Isaakev. He rode out that night upon his steed, he rode with only a crude black cloak for warmth. When Robert reached the source of the smoke it was too late. The castle had burnt down. Andrei had done his duty as a knight paramount. Through the stress of it all, he had defended the kingdom and led his men whilst staring at the maws of destruction in the eye. Alas, if only Robert knew how far his best friend had drowned into the ocean of anxious despair. He would have held his hand out to save him in a heart beat. “If only ea knew. If only ea knew…” It did not matter now. The rain did not pour tonight in Koravia. The fire would continue to burn.

Ivan laments the fact that all of this could be done now with the consent of a curia and counsel from a so-called aengul; For the precedents and values set forth by Evaristus and Clement did not matter anymore. Perhaps the Chair of Saint Daniel is not needed anymore, according to Anorhil's philosophies. Was this an issue of reading comprehension and semantics? Or of a harrenite king's pride? "What is the saying that the Rhenyari and Qalasheen use? Ah yes. 'Beware the Munafiq.'"

Ivan raises a brow. "How are you excommunicating people without the will of the High Pontiff. Anorhil. Would you coronate yourself too?" He now truly understood what this was: A battle of overcompensating egos. THE LORD weeps.

Ivan is very disappointed at Father Elim’s crashout in the latter paragraphs of this essay.

It was there, within the city of Kretzen did Ivan read the words written by Bishop Godfrey. His thinned lips of stoic tiredness soon curled into a small smile. "If only you sat upon the Chair of Saint Daniel in this trying time." He uttered with a sigh.

𓄿 ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ There once was a puppeteer in the east One night he held quite a grand feast With all of his soldiers and all of his lords, He spoke of the holy light whilst raising his sword. But there were no soldiers There were no lords And there was no holy light from that sword. They were strawmen propped atop the tables; Supported by strawbales of malice and fables The sword he held was a fragile rod It seems that this man was truly a fraud. His people asked him to tend to his fields Quite barren they were and in need of yields But he preferred to delve further in his gripes; The West, he thought, had taken his stripes. So here he spoke to his puppets His mind and soul tortured with grudges He sent his strawmen marching west, From lowlands to highlands without any rest. Yet the puppeteer would realize, whilst bittersweet The resolve of the ones he was to meet, Had hardened further than before They too wished to settle the feud of yore. The crows and their flock now flew to battle And below they saw the strawmen on their saddles Yet the crows did not flee in fear; For the quality of these strawmen began to wear . And the irony of it all, unconstrued, Was that this was all an age-old feud. ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ 𓄿 The wind brushed against the Ludovar's curls. He held the parchment outwards towards the sky; And then, he released it to the world.

IN-GAME NAME: Waveysaurus DISCORD: WaveLincoln PERSONA NAME: Robert Ludovar BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF YOUR INTENDED PERFORMANCE: Solo Act (Or Group Act) : D

The daemonsteel blade ignited aflame and emboldened in scorching fury. The Templar-Shephard studied his reflection within that blade. It was the same blade which he drew blood against that Harrenite Hypocrite who dared to insult the very faith he devoted his life to. Ivan remembered Edward Alstion. He had baptized the man himself within the Saint Joren and Sacred Chains Basilica. The man had proclaimed his wish to see the children of Godwin reunite with their distant brethren of the Horenic tribes. He recalled his conversation with the late Villorik long ago; Regarding the true enemies of the faith. It is the neverending darktide that grows like a festering infection within the crevices where the light cannot reach in this world. They then spread, like a plague amongst the lands of the righteous. Yet, pompous men and women will lay down their pride and lives for their titles instead. For their overcompensating egos must be satiated. How unfortunate. If only they did not weaponize his faith to do their bidding. Alas, such annoyance is not his to worry. But there is one thing he hopes this generation shall follow: "Whatever decision you make, John. Stand by it."

"He clipped your wings. Bound you in chains. And threw you in the river." There He stood; That Ludovar. His gaze settling before the memory tree; Within the meadowlands of his mother's home. "Alas, the waters of Gamesh dissolved your chains. And he was ashamed when you appeared before his court."

It did not take long for the letter to reach Ivan. A courier had delivered it to the Elder Shepherd whilst upon one his recent travels to the coastal isles. The Armored Shepherd’s singular eye read over the letter. As he did so, a gentle “Hmm.” escaped his lips. “He is a believer in his words. Now let us see him Act.”