Marquesa_

“My family and I were Auvergnian. I have never heard of this ‘Campagnois’ culture, have any of you?” voiced the deceased Eleanor of Lotharingia toward her two sisters and mother. In reply to the inquiry, all of the d’Amaury women shook their heads. “Truth be told, it sounds like the name of some cheap wine. How dreadful.” let out Claude of Lotharingia. Shortly after, the gaggle of monarchical consorts began to laugh incessantly.

“My godson, John Maximilian, was merely eleven years old when he was slain — how dare this buffoon make a mockery of a child’s gruesome death in a paltry attempt to justify his treachery.” commented a deceased Haeseni queen-consort, Eleanor of Lotharingia, from the Seven Skies.

“He’s the best High Pontiff of the century. Also he has the cutest eyes.” commented Bogdana after reading this missive, shortly after, both she and all of her friends swooned.

You did not practice this at all times, as evidenced by a situation in which you doled out a punishment without consulting both players involved, levied a baseless accusation upon me, and then outright refused to speak to me about it and promptly sent me elsewhere. Thankfully the situation was amended and the punishment was reversed due to another staff member acting as a mediator. I think that a learning lesson here for you, and all staff members (be them former or current), is to learn how to be an impartial judge of all situations, to remember that both parties are worthy of being spoken to. In any case, enjoy your retirement.

I agree with this 100%, I’ve been playing since the early 5th Empire and I’ve never witnessed a whole player base quitting and never returning after they had been conquered. If anything, the eras of balkanization following the fall of empires were the time in which the server, or at the very least Human roleplay, was at it’s most active. LoTC was never supposed to be like a certain server that shall not be named. We were never supposed to live in tea party-riddled cities where the fear of total conquest was nonexistent and “slice of life” roleplay reigned supreme, the whole purpose of this server is in it’s name “Lord of the Craft” — we were once a place where anyone, and I mean anyone, could become the Lord of the Craft if they had a sizable rally behind them, as briefly mentioned by MadOne. Sadly this place has become a shell of it’s former self.

Bogdana enjoyed reading this, and wanted a sequel

Bogdana wondered why Beathas had a crippling drug addiction she could not shake. The peasant then remembered a time when Beathas sent strange portraits of herself to her.

Bogdana the Random Peasant had second hand embarrassment for Beathas.

Zamnnnnnnn zaddy you’re articulate, good job

“Touché.” Bogdana the Peasant said as she read the document, proud of the bride that she had argued with a few months ago.

“It seems a certain someone has swallowed too many swords.” voiced Renée with a laugh.

A peasant by the name of Bogdana wished that Anne Eleanore had a grip on reality. Or, at the very least, the commoner hoped the Pruvian could find better things to do with her time, besides passive aggressively talking to herself and being a spinster.

“The Duke of Mardon was not Philip’s uncle — I am sure I would recall if I had a brother named Peter or not,” voiced the deceased Eleanore Theresa Horen, “So, that only means that Peter must have been Philip’s maternal uncle, making him the brother of his mother, Julia Adelheid?” the woman said with a brief laugh. “Which means that the playwright is insinuating that Julia was in love with her brother, seeing as both she and ‘Peter’ petitioned her monarchical son, Emperor Philip, for permission to be wed, only to be denied.” she finished, shaking her head, “What a disgusting accusation to levy upon my sister-in-law; it would serve these modern tramps well to stay away from history, seeing as it is painfully evident that they do not excel in the study of said field. This ‘Peter’ character was not even named Peter, his name was Philip Louis, Duke of Mardon, and he was the son of my uncle, Prince Alexander Louis, and his Savoyardic wife, Aurelia de Bar.” the ancient princess finally finished with a grimace prior to marching off. OOC: Repost since my last comment was suspiciously deleted without me even being consulted. Perhaps Casper the Friendly Ghost did it.

“The Duke of Mardon was not Philip’s uncle — I am sure I would recall if I had a brother named Peter or not,” voiced the deceased Eleanore Theresa Horen, “So, that only means that Peter must have been Philip’s maternal uncle, making him the brother of his mother, Julia Adelheid?” the woman said with a brief laugh. “Which means that the playwright is insinuating that Julia was in love with her brother, seeing as both she and ‘Peter’ petitioned her monarchical son, Emperor Philip, for permission to be wed, only to be denied.” she finished, shaking her head, “What a disgusting accusation to levy upon my sister-in-law; it would serve these modern tramps well to stay away from history, seeing as it is painfully evident that they do not excel in the study of said field. This ‘Peter’ character was not even named Peter, his name was Philip Louis, Duke of Mardon, and he was the son of my uncle, Prince Alexander Louis, and his Savoyardic wife, Aurelia de Bar.” the ancient princess finally finished with a grimace prior to marching off.

Upon being informed of her daughter’s demise by way of a messenger, Amalie Lovisa released a sigh and shook her head, “I feel no pity.” the Haeseni stated impassively, “The Holy Scrolls clearly state: honor thy father and thy mother; that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.” Amalie said in a rehearsed manner to the courier. “Amadea did not do that. She did not heed my words.” the woman declared, “She made the decision to become the golden girl of the Novellen clan, and she did it mirthfully and out of spite for the lady that came before her — the Novellens are a treacherous lot: they will elevate a woman to great heights, just to viciously rip her down. It is a sport for them.” the aged Alimar stated, a disgusted expression plastered about her visage. “They did it to Wilhelmina, they did it to my daughter, and they will do it to whatever naive girl that comes after Amadea.” the lady finished in an austere tone, prior to dumping a few coins into the hands of the message-bearer, and promptly dismissing them with a wave.