MadOne

Balthar the Black, upon taking a copy of the missive stashes it inside a satchel while he chewed on a slab of meat. Perhaps he will visit this seat of the noble Lords.

If the ontological status of abstract objects such as numbers or properties depends on the framework of Platonism versus nominalism, how might the epistemological access to such entities differ in a world where the anthropic principle is contingent on a multiverse model with non-computable constants governing physical laws, and what implications would this have for Gödelian incompleteness in a meta-mathematical constructivist paradigm?

Adelmar, now an aged man remembered his cousin, and the fires of the tavern when he and Leon were youths. How he had taken two arrows as his lifesblood spilled onto the earth for Leon, how they quarrelled, made up, and quarrelled once again, only to repeat it as fate ever went. It all seemed to so pointless to him, now that he had the hindsight and the wisdom. Perhaps, he should have remained at Leon’s side as a Chieftain in his own right, or perhaps he should not have said this word or the next. As he ruminated in candlelight of past mistakes, he couldn’t help but laugh. Not for the anguish of losing a brother, a loved Chieftain, but for the good memories lived, drinks shared, and spirits intertwined. That day, he laid tribute upon Leon’s spirit beneath the spire of the Brothers, of the finest vegetables and grain he had raised for his brother. “Take him into your embrace, O’Lord, and deliver him to his wife.” He offered in prayer for the departed spirit as he brushed the stele with a cloth to rid it of the moss. But now, the season’s change was upon him. He had a flock to tend for. He got up, and attempted to leave his lamentations behind in dour contentedness. He never would manage to take on this task in his lifetime.

Adelmar, now an aged man himself reminisced of the first days that they had met in Whitespire. It all seemed so long ago, washed away with the tides of time, ever ebbing and flowing. She had been who she was; covetous, sharp and perhaps even scared, and he had been aloof, unwise and full of ambition. He laboured there beneath the great chasm of the Ferdenwald that night, chipping at stone, etching with a chisel to make a forever-mark of the Princess that had been. His thoughts wandered to moments of rivalry shared, goblets that clashed, gifts shared and then the friendship that blossomed within. Grasping ahold of the dirt beneath, he raised it as a tribute to the wayward Princess that came to embody the Reinmaren spirit more than he ever could. “Here she was, and here shall she remain.” He muttered, as the earth began to slip away from his clasp. He did not shed any tears, nor offer his grieving wife any lamentations, but that night upon the knoll, surrounded by the golden stalks of his life’s work, he opened a wineskin for the departed friend, kindred in spirit. Fate goes ever as it must.

Adelmar severely abuses the rights of prisoners by giving Lucien such a severe beating that his face resembles a pulp. Adelmar then chucks acid on Lucien. Adelmar then draws a dartboard on Lucien’s chest and plays darts with the other turnkeys. Adelmar then beats Lucien with a yew stick. Adelmar takes a knife and severs Lucien’s index finger to make writing of great difficulty. Adelmar pokes at Lucien with a spear through the bars. Adelmar reads awful poetry at Lucien for hours on end. Adelmar roasts a goat and feasts with the other turnkeys in front of Lucien’s cell. Adelmar sprays cold water on Lucien for 4 hours, and then beats the crap out of him. Adelmar gets a tortoise to bite and hold Lucien’s arm. Adelmar traumatises Lucien by dressing as the Grim Reaper and suddenly showing near Lucien’s cell at 4am. Adelmar does all this and more, and then resolves to beat the crap out of Lucien once more.

Adelmar beats the crap out of Lucien, then installs a water system that constantly drips water on his forehead in psychological torment, then he throws sharp caltrops all across Lucien’s cell so he gets hurt if he walks around, then he mixes all manners of filthy diseases in his water, after which he the crap out of him once more for good measure, and then he throws a wolf in Lucien’s cell every 5th day and 4 scorpions on the 3rd day every week, he then chucks rocks at Lucien, then throws mud at him, then adds bowel loosening medicines in his food, then beats the crap out of him once more for extra good measure, then while also beating the crap out of the incense fellow that visited the prison cells without his permission.

Adelmar von Kanunsberg, the turnkey upon finding that Lukas had been writing his missives on his toilet paper with charcoal to be smuggled out, beats the crap out of Lukas once more, gets a funnel, and makes Lukas drink water until he throws up.

Adelmar von Kanunsberg, the turnkey in Kretzen, upon discovering that Lukas had been smuggling paper into the dungeon, swiftly throws him to the oubliette after beating the crap out of him.

“How is your investigation an investigation at all if you’ve decided that he is a ‘false Aengul’ before even beginning the so-called investigation? Seems like an Elvish plot to create more propaganda-slop against Canonism to delegitimise the righteous cause of the Crusade to me.” Adelmar said in a mead hall to his fellow friends as he read out the missive.

Adelmar returns from his meeting with the young Grand Duke. He seemed to be a good, Godly lad. In this, he found a possibility of peace.

"You land bandits that raid and pillage lands randomly, you already chose war over diplomacy, stop pretending like you are righteous when you land bandits." says Adelmar von Kanunsberg to no one in particular as he read out the missive in seething rage.

Had Caius Primus, the High Priest had been there, he would have not considered Milena an enemy, or a foe at all. For all the eternal grudges the Oracle held, The High Priest had only rebuked her in time for meddling in utterly inhuman affairs, such as Aenguls, Magick, Vampires, and prophecies that were neither Canonistic, or to do with Exalted Sigismund in future. "How the Raev and the Carrions must weep," he said onto Frantzisko, @cadazio during a chess match unrelated to Milena's grudge, fore he had not considered a foe, or any foe of note but a sister in faith and humanity - although a misguided, Elven mystic one. "That their descendants meddle with Elven prophecies, boogeymen and bigfoot when real threats onto the realm exist." He cast a glance towards Sigismund there, alone and palely loitering in the corner of the Seven Skies, quarrelling, no doubt with the good Saint Robert Goodwill, as Nafis of Al-Dirakh chewed on some heavenly barley. Frantzisko, during the moment of Caius's separated attention moved a pawn somewhere, and uttered onto him. "Check. Bai, bai, xaxaxaxa!" Caius grumbled, ruminating on his true enemy, SARRYN THE COCKROACH, and he hoped that his people in humanity, including Milena would focus on their true foes; those that belong to Iblees, instead of those kin of theirs in Horen. Knowing that this will never come true, he wanted to explode with a force of thousand suns, until he threw the chessboard over from the table, and walked towards Robert Goodwill to calm himself with a true scion of humanity. No doubt a woman capable of communing with death, and gifts such as Milena's would be able to tap into this sentiment of the High Priest, should she attempt to do such. Though he himself woved to greet Milena's death with the same quips that she once afforded him in life.

Caius Primus liked Sterling, for what it is worth.

THE VIDIMAR INSCRIPTIONS A runestone is raised. THIU VIDIMAR SKRIFTON | THE VIDIMAR INSCRIPTIONS Raised by Vidimar Gelimarsson, Chieftain of the Gelimarids. In the Age of Frost. ÖHNE UND TÖCHTER VON REINMAR, In the Walden Valley, stones were set long ago to honor two great princes, Vidimar Tigin and Amalerik of the Rein. These inscriptions, of Old Reinmar and in Old Marian, tell of our tribe's rise, glory, and fall. The stones recount our golden age of strength and unity. Yet, they also bear the tale of our scattering under Gaius Marius’s yoke. Vidimar Tigin, in these dark times, chose to embrace the True Faith, seeking divine favor and redemption for his people. Let these stones remind us of our past glory and the enduring spirit of our forebears. As we remember their legacy, may their valor guide us toward a future of strength and faith. THE BOOK OF HEROES I, like the sky and born of the sky, the kin of Gelimar, named thus Vidimar, in this age, have I taken my seat upon the throne. Listen to my words till the end, hearken well! All my little brothers, nephews, sons! All my kin, my people! When I sat, those Walden chieftains, clans, proud and joyous, with eyes cast down, gazed then upward. Thus seated, I myself pledged this heavy decree to the people all around. Before our age, whereas, the rivers and mountains and below, the earth solidified; amid them, was a man born, bearing the name of Hörn, (Horen.) in whose name my forebears Gelimar and Theoderic have seated. Seated thus was Hörn, and thus he entrusted the rule and the law of Men’s clans, bestowed and enforced. After his death, thus his kin seated. And after them, their kin. In this time, did the foes surrounded them from all sides. Risen was Hörn to the Sky, thus Harwin’s (Harren) nation charged to wrestle dominion. Their cavalry host sweeping, taking all the surrounding clans, binding them tight. Those who had heads, they had them bowed. Those who had knees, they had them bent. From the Eastern cedar forest to the northern mountain gate, they have placed their dominion. Amidst it all, only the orphaned Edel Lords under Joren remained seated. His rule was true, his prowess real. Even the chieftains, even the clans, were upright. Therefore, only he had maintained his homeland. He has upheld the law and established order. His essence soared like an eagle, and plummeting, he perished. Mourner and wailers gathered in the Eastern sunrise, in the land of howling wolves, in the Chiefless Aun, the thirty Boyars, the people of the steppes, all these clans came to mourn, to lean. Such a renowned Chieftain he was. After that, his sons became chieftains under Harwin indeed. His sons became thegns, indeed. After that, they treated not as brothers to one another, nor as elder siblings. Son not treated with father, indeed. Thus, an ignorant chief has taken the seat, indeed. His rule was ignorant, indeed. Wicked, indeed. Because the chieftains, the clans were unruly, because Harwin’s (Harren) clans were wicked, deceitful, because they caused discord between brother and brother, because they envied chieftain and clan, the Walden clans have lost their rightful place amidst our kin in the North. They lost the rule they governed. To the outlander clans, they became slaves, sons became servants, daughters became wives indeed. The Walden chieftains renounced their ancestor’s names. Following the ways of the outlander chieftains, they submitted to the outlander King. Fifty years they toiled. To the Eastern sunrise, they submitted. To the Northern mountain gate, they submitted. They fought for the outlander, sold their laws and customs for coins. The nation of Edel then said, 'We were a Chiefly people, where is our Chief? We were bountiful people. Where is our bounty? We were stark people. Where is our resolve?’ To which Chieftain shall we pledge faith and strength?' Thus, they became enemies of the outlander Kings. As enemies, they sought refuge in the Creator to whom we pray. Despite all their faith and strength, the outlander of Harwin’s nation said, “Let us slay the people of Edel, let us annihilate them,” they went so far. The Lord God said, “Let not the Walden nation of Edel perish, let them remain as a people,” thus, King Owinrich, the chosen of the Lord, and with favour from our Chieftess Theodegotha, imbued with divine power, became successful. Thus men cried; “Owinrich, renowned with seventeen titles, marches to the capital!” hearing this, the man in the valley spurred his horse into the city. The man up in the hill descended from the mountain. Gathered, they became seventy warriors. By the power of God, our King’s soldiers were like wolves, his enemies like sheep. In the forward direction, towards the West, they waged war, they conquered, they subdued. In total, they became seven hundred warriors. Seven hundred warriors forged out of a leaderless, Chiefless people, in agony, who had become slaves, abandoning the Kanun. Our King remade us according to the Law of our fathers, hence forming a valid moot for this reason. The Warchief and the Lawspeaker were appointed for this reason, in the South, the outlander people were enemies. In the North, the outlander subject to us, and the thirty Boyar clans were shackled onto them. The farfolk from the Arrow race, the Kings, the sons of Malinrich were all enemies. The King thus has led thus many forty-seven times, twenty skirmishes. With God's help, he made those with dominion leaderless, those with Kingship Crownless, he made his enemies subjects. He bowed heads, bent knees. The King gained so many territories and realms and flew away. The King, starting from himself, erected many monuments for our Chieftains of that time. According to the Law of that time, my ancestors sat as Chieftain. When my kin sat as Chief, they greatly prospered and educated the clans. He made their leaders rich. He multiplied the few. THE BOOK OF GELIMAR When my father Gelimar sat as Chieftain, I myself became the Lawspeaker over the Moot. With my father Chief, we led the army to the Waldor River in the North, all the way to the Southern Rein. In the West, we led the army to the Mountain Gate. In the East we led the army all the way to the land of the rivers. In total, we led the army twenty-five times, making those with dominion leaderless. Those of the Rein with Chieftaincy Chiefless, we made them bow heads and bend knees. We made the minor Rein Chiefs unaware of his Walden heritage, and because he did not know he was under our yoke, the Chieftains perished. His orders, his lords perished. The Rein people suffered. To ensure the lands held by our ancestors, the rivers and the mountains do not remain without governance without the Walden blood of Edel, we uplifted the Rein tribe by making them chiefs. We bestowed the title of Chieftain upon the Warlord Theoderik. We gave my sister Galswinthe as a wife, and I took Hellebore as wife. For the land and waters of the conquered Katzak, so they do not remain ungoverned, we came to create the Katzanik tribe, we fought. We regained their dominion. In the North, we similarly placed tribes to the Waldor, we uplifted them. We placed Walden clans all the way to plains and uplifted them. In that age, servitude prevailed, the pitied became pitiless, brothers did not recognize brothers, sons did not recognize fathers, just as in the age of Edel. If we gained and uplifted them all, it was according to our law and custom in the Kanun. The clans of Reinmar that we have ordained thus, hear: If the sky does not collapse, if the earth does not break, who can annul this nation, its rule, its tradition? Who can take leadership of the tribes away from our Reinmar? To ensure security, to ensure a trained Chief for the good of the dominion he is destined to protect, we established allegiance to the Grand Moot. Descended from a complete lineage of the works of Law, we arranged a Kanun harmonious with the Rein’s own beliefs, descended from an exemplary lineage, we established an ideal Kanun. Under the name of the ruling people of Edel, we came, we reached the Eastern place, we reached the Western place, we brought goodness to the places we reached. Blood flowed like water. Bones piled like mountains. The ruling male sons became thegns. The female daughters became wives and shieldmaidens. Because of ignorance, because of evil, because of the Old Gods and the graven images raised, my father, Gelimar, reached his end. Initially, I erected this runestone for my father, Gelimar, So that the name and fame of the Gelimarid clans would not disappear, Yet it is upon the name of the God who uplifts, the God who bestows dominion, that I inscribe for the name and fame of these clans not to disappear. THE BOOK OF VIDIMAR I was made Chieftain by that God. I did not sit upon wealthy clans. That you rebuke that God in the name of the Old Gods, thus you rebuke my cap and cloak (Chieftaincy, Rule.) I sat upon the impoverished, the destitute, the wretched clans, and not born into wealth and fame. I made an agreement with Theoderik, and his son then, my blood brother Amalerik. For the sake of my father's and theirs acquired clans' name and fame not to vanish, I neither slept at night nor sat during the day for the tribe. With my brother Alamerik and the two chiefs, I acquired them in such a way. I did not acquire and thus turn all the clans into fire and water (enemies). When I, myself, sat as Chief, the scattered clans returned, side by side. To organize the tribes, I led the army twelve times to the North onto the Marian clans. Twelve times, I skirmished. Then, because God forgave, because I had grace, I revived and nourished those clans destined to perish. I clothed the naked clans, made the poor ones rich. I multiplied the few clans. I made the valuable dominions, the valuable Chieftaincy better. How can you thus rebuke this God of mine? THE BOOK OF AMALERIK I made all the surrounding clans submit, made them without power. They all acknowledged me as Chief, submitting. They became industrious under my rule. After gaining so many laws, my brother Amalerik's essence (soul) soared (flew). When my father the Chief soared, my brother Amalerik remained at the age of seven. Like Gelimar, my mother Brynhildr gave the name earned for my brother Amalerik, on account that he had bowed heads. At sixteen, he gained the cap and cloak, the tradition of my father the Chief: We led an expedition onto Malinrich, we defeated them. The Malinite Rothilion came with five divisions. We skirmished. Amalerik dashed forward like a charging bull. He seized the hand of Rothilion’s brother-in-law. He handed it to us. We made that man disappear instantly. At twenty-one, we skirmished with the Marian. First, the Marian mounted Gundahar's, the black horse's, back and charged forward. That horse died instantly. Second, he mounted Donarthothrinc’s, the black horse's, back and charged forward. That horse died instantly. Third, he mounted Gewintar's, the well-dressed yellow horse's, back and charged forward. That horse died instantly. We hit his shield, his armor with over a hundred arrows. Not a single arrow hit his face, his head. You all know these raids, O, Reinmar. We made that man disappear instantly. After that, Wido Marik (Gaius Marius) of Hanseti became powerful. He dispersed us and defeated us at the Kippen lake. Amalerik had a few troops escaped. At the age of twenty-six, we led towards the Nicalite under Wido Marik’s banner, Cutting through the depth of the sunset, crossing the Königmen forest, exhausting our horses, and we surprised the sleeping Nical people. We skirmished with the them in the forest. Amalerik mounted Oswic's white stallion and charged forward like a bull. He hit a warrior with an arrow. He chased and killed two warriors. When he charged, Oswic’s white stallion broke its thigh. We killed the Chieftain of the Nicalite. We took his dominion. That year, crossing the Hanseti forest towards the Nical, crossing the pearled river, we marched. We ambushed the sleeping heartland clans. The warriors of the enemy came like fire, like a storm against a cliff. We skirmished. Amalerik mounted a black horse and dashed forward. He brought them down. He personally captured them both warchiefs of the Nicalite. After that, he grabbed the Nicalite warchiefs while under the command of Wido Marik by hand. We banished the Nicalite instantly. This was how we smote the Nican thus.. The Nicalites all gave their Schwur. Our warriors' horses were neglected, they had no provisions. THE BOOK OF MOURNING Atop the robust blond steed of Amalerik’s forefather Theoderik, he rode akin to a raging boar through the mist. A warrior emerged thus forth from the woodland, bearing the banners of the Malinrich, and marked his presence. Our warriors clashed seven times in skirmish, and in the seventh exchange, a swordsman fell. The second skirmish took place at the plains of Reinmar in the South, where Theoderik and Gelimar, his foe and my Chiefly father previously crossed blades. Riding upon this noble steed, Amalerik struck down a warrior, encircling and striking nine more, smiting them thus. Malin's ranks fell at that very moment. The third encounter unfolded at Hanseti against the wiederganger of the Drauchreich. Amalerik once again mounted his steed, charging forth, striking down the wiederganger. We claimed victory once more. The ranks of our warriors trembled in fear at the raised enemy, so disaster loomed near. The enemy pressed upon us, but Amalerik repelled their advance, routing a faction from Drauchreich, slaying ten valiant warriors, raised of the wiederganger. My mother, other maternal figures, sisters, daughters-in-law, and our daughters would have faced servitude had we not prevailed. Those who perished would have lain forgotten on the roads and in our very homeland. Without Amalerik, you all would have met your end. My brother Amalerik soared away in battle. I watched, feeling as though I could no longer see, knowing what I once knew no more. I watched, pondering. Time is God's domain. Mankind is born to perish. I watched, tears ready to cleanse, sorrow held back in my heart. I watched resolutely. I feared for the safety of my chieftains, my nephew, my son, my lords, and my tribes. The mourners and weepers from the Katzak and Marian tribes arrived, led by Wido Marik. He journeyed from his lands, bearing gifts of gold, silver, and more than all that we required. Envoys came from the Chieftains of the tribes. All were in attendance. Amalerik breathed his last on the seventeenth day of the first month of the Sheep year. On the twenty-seventh day of the ninth month, we held the solemn rites. THE BOOK OF THE STONE This monument, its embellishments, and the inscribed stone were all completed on the twenty-seventh day of the seventh month of the year. Amalerik departed at the age of forty-seven, ascending like a cloud. Hengubald supervised these here intricate carvings on this stone. I have inscribed these words, Amalerik’s nephew, Hengubald. For twenty days, I sat inscribing this stone, this monument, all scribed by my chisel. May you of my tribe, care for this stone as you care for your precious sons and daughters after I have flown away. WER RASTET, DER ROSTET VIDIMAR GELIMARSSON, Chieftain of the Reinmaren. ADELMAR VON KANUNSBERG