Security_
-
Posts
478 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Personas
Wiki
Rules
War
Systems
Safety
Player Conduct
Roleplay Leadership Guidelines
- Roleplay Leadership Guidelines
- Roleplay Leadership Guidelines Comments
- Roleplay Leadership Guidelines Reviews
Forums
Everything posted by Security_
-
Casimir wonders if the Keeners will repair the land-scar outside of Enswerp. Only time would tell.
-
The admonishment finds itself before Casimir who sat beside the county Enswerp in its golden fields, the scroll brought to him by a scrawny courier rat. With a tongue still in his mouth he signed the Hussariyan, grateful he did not lose much more by the Prince's hand. His outburst within those halls still rang in his ears and pained his gouged eye, as did the words of Arathor. The Wick's tears blotted, smudging the missive of the Crown Princess as all he had lost was made clear. Towards the Holy See he began.
-
Upon greener pastures a nest of Wicks can be heard lamenting, yet merrymaking as family was once more brought together. Their drunken songs filled the air…
-
ROYAL DECREE REGARDING THE WICKWALD INVESTIGATION
Security_ replied to SimplySeo's topic in Edicts and Information
A dejected Calaron Wick rides his horse through the Wickwald one last time. Staring at the cursed crypt, he could only sign the Hussariya before riding off, leaving the platemail of the Idunian Star in his stead. His home of over a decade was now a stinging memory, one cauterized upon an eye. -
"Only fanatics who believe themselves the very chosen of God would pull down He to be used as a sword and shield, making Him of the mundane. Tainting the heavens, meddling for titles with a lack of evidence, they have made themselves judge, jury, and executioner. May Truth be found." Calaron prayed for his brother and the Countess.
-
A Wick sits within a ruin on the outskirts of the county, roasting a rat upon a small campfire. Every now and then he overlooks the siegecamp with his seeing-glass, noticing more dirt missing from the earth, with poorly crafted spikes in its place. Signing the Husariya, he could only wait.
-
Calaron Wick woke from his spar with the Ser Meili, his swollen cheek a source of great pain. The missive would find him in glum spirits, finding his brother posthaste. “Typical of this Keen. Within halls he speaks in whispers, his acts most guile. Yet to the public he would cry out - libelous slander.”
-
Disgusted was Calaron Wick as news of the attack reached him. A prayer for his brother was followed by a slew of curses. “Those dogs of the republic would spit upon Horen’s bounty. Great men must lead great men, though it appears the blind lead the blind in Salvo.”
-
Calaron brought an entire crate of wax molds to the Wald, setting each aside in preparation of the wedding. As the ferrum tubes clattered together he turned to his brother, asking, ”By VIC’s flame, what is a compote?”
-
Realms - Activity, System Changes, and Applications Reopened
Security_ replied to Daisy's topic in Announcements
the mina gobbler gobbles up all the mina -
Calaron roamed through the woods where quasi-material aliens scribbled sigils often in the imagery of eyes around the hill. "Damn v*rtigaunts." Hearing news of the diet by way of his brother, he awaited the normalcy.
-
watch out for the opps. your rats too fat, your wine too sweet, your style too fly
-
A Wick wiped his brow from sweat, working within the smoldering hot Chandelerié. Hearing news of the proposal, he already began to prepare candles for the wedding. “Let us pray they do good, do better than those who came before.”
-
-
Calaron Wick sits by a cauldron filled with bubbling wax, receiving the summons atop the counter of the Chandeleriè de VVick by means of courier rat. Spitting out the letter, the vermin awaited a bag of grain which the Numenedain sprinkled before the rodent. “The rats are summoned, I should make way to find my brati in the celebration.” Returning to his candle craft, he left the letter to melt beneath a candle’s wax.
-
Calaron rolled over in his sleep, snoring loudly in the halls of Tor’Praeth.
-
Koruk’Akaal sits within a muddy gutter far beneath a towering city, sorting through their garbage. Finding the missive slightly covered in ketchup, he wipes it off with a fish skeleton. Squinting, he could hardly believe it- “Wub dah zkah.. why iz diz written in blah. Did all dah goboz die?” The thought quickly left him as he found a half eaten apple.
-
"Perhaps in time all Xionists will learn, nothing will make them see." Tossed into the fires of a crypt did the missive burn. "Let only those of Umbridge remain. Let every mortal fall."
-
A lich stood in his tomb, slack jawed. “Helping? Mortals?” If he had eyes, he wouldn’t believe them.
-
Calaron Wick prepares his finest Wick-or-Treat costume. "Boy golly gee, I can't wait to show all these locals our traditions!"
-
Calaron Wick finds news of the elfess' death, his face grew dim in mourning for the woman he thought of as a mother. Signing the Husariya cross, he prepared a few candles along his windowsill, lighting each with her in mind. "May she rest eternal in peace, something never found in her lament."
-
"Shall every boy be subject to his father's crimes? Shall we sever the hand of the innocent youth, who's father was a crook? The church has lost sight of Godan, and has abjured the truth of justice. None should be culled during their baptism, nor within the holy confines of Godan's own home." A man mumbled to himself, pinning the missive upon his wall. "Saint Raguel has tainted the waters of Gamesh Red. The Curia now revels in it."
