Nooblius

Hajduk Veljko could not read, though unfortunately for his cortisol a more literate burgher of Belgrade was discussing this matter on the streets openly. Scandalized, Veljko ripped the papers from the burgher's hands, and went to the nearest Sarkozic nobleman he could find. Angrily pointing to the wrong section of the paper, Veljko let out a litany of expletives and accusations against the authors. "They call into question the loyalty of Adria!? Why, they cannot best Adria in any contest, so their best bet is slander; why must they insist on perpetuating this grudge? Do they have any vision beyond spite?" The hajduk ranted some more to the Sarkozic lordling, who was nodding his head politely so as to not exasperate the obviously insane raving woodsman. Not so slow as to not notice, Veljko grumbled some more as he departed, the crumpled copy of the paper in his tightened grasp. "Folly!"

Genuine question, have you bothered to ask anyone (including the person who emoted it, or anyone around them) why they use that symbol or why it is called that? If you did, you would be told that it's because it's the symbol used of the OSL from years ago, and that they one time ran a settlement or diocese called Rhodesia, and that since then players of all stripes have repeated the reference because that is the history on the server, and they exist within Roleplay. I don't know why they chose that. But I would point out the mere mention of Rhodesia does not exist as a hate symbol, and I think it is a bit of a disservice both to people being haphazardly accused AND to genuine victims of any sort of tyrannical IRL actions to call nothingburgers on minecraft hatecrimes out of a lack of scholarship and basic communication. - For the record, I think it's fair to have conversations about how war and factionalism of the server both IRP and OOCly can affect the ability to make narratives. We can have those conversations, and justify disagreeing with eachother without calling another fascists, or without condemning the other perspective at all. The unfortunate truth is that LOTC is a community ran game, without really any paid game design behind it, so of course the rules aren't perfect and are free to be criticized. But if you want something to be better, try to analyze the actual substance of the issue rather than just accusing people despite them doing nothing against the rules, but rather doing the things explicitly encouraged by the server history and a majority of the playerbase.

A Red Pilgrim sat upon a tree stump in beautiful Alduun's shadow. The Autumn Isle breeze brought serenity to this old monk after a lifetime of toil. A friend approached him, telling him of these dueling letters. Carandir shared his mind; I had always said, to all my detractors, that I would wager there not be a king or prince more than I who would hear their concerns, their accusations, and answer them. I alone, would listen to those who condemn me, for sorry fear of my own soul, and trust in the heart of the fleep; who well understands the virtue of compassion, better than a man of war with a broken heart. Some can say I had convinced them of my view. Some can say I had been convinced by their view. Some can say we understood another better, but disagreed; none can say they had heard and achieved nothing- except those too afraid to act. I need not remind you who belonged to each category; you know, friend.

"The Days of Olde..." a voice whispered, sounding both withered and youthful at the same time. The specter of Markus Marie Sarkozic watched over the next generation of Adrian heroes. He had fought tooth and nail to restore the dignity of Adria, alongside, no doubt, Euler patriots. No doubt did it haunt him in his last years a fear that he had not done enough, that his descendants were doomed. But with the youthful Eulers now settling Azuras, Markus had hope.

High Priest Carandir sits at a table by a window, looking out across Numenost the fair from a tower of the Temple Bastion Saint Caius. Long ago, the Clown King had set his place far in the wilderness, away from his imperial family, to serve as a solitary defense against the dark and as keeper of the flame. "The greatest political prudence is to ally yourself with the will of Aeradar, the King of Flame, our Lord GOD! What evils the world will set against you, even if you are to lose, as had the good Westerlands, shall be in the eternal plan of the Almighty Author, the Illuminating Flame," Carandir commented to another Adunian, a skeptic just as many others of the wisdom of the former Priest-King's political antics. "In truth, I had let anxiety into my heart, as to what would come of this episode. I wondered, well, it was not the first time the temple restored might be crushed in cunning intrigue- so my teacher taught me." A proud, nefarious smile came upon Carandir's expression, and all his shrewdness was lade bare for a fleeting, unguarded moment. "But, I suppose it would have been silly to think we, all of us, went through all that- just to give it up at the end. What were they thinking?"

The High Priest Carandir read the lengthy examination and admonishments within the letter with some trepidation. His hair was grayed now, already he had lived through so much. How he longed to pause in his trek, to walk the garden and smell the Lemons! The adunian would give maybe anything for it, for some peace. Not for fear- this he had lost long ago. No, but for weariness did he now long for the fight to stop, that people would trust the Temple and compromise. There was no harm to them- they were promised their safety. But providence had always ordered another way for him, and it seemed there would be far from any rest. There was work to do, and he was willing to do it, though admittedly less eager. Carandir recalled words he had spoken to his friend, not long ago. "Awake Fleeper! O' brother, o' teacher; you were not made to be a prisoner under the hill! The Lord GOD has raised you against all adversaries triumphant, he has put the brow of an emperor under your annointing oil; and it was not so that you may sleep then and there, before the job was done. One last triumph. Then, when it is done, may we rest with serenity."