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Noves

Member
  • Content Count

    31
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

28 Excellent

2 Followers

About Noves

  • Rank
    Newly Spawned
  • Birthday July 6

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    Trksh#2647
  • Minecraft Username
    MadOne
  • Email
    nkrlm@outlook.com

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Prussia
  • Interests
    Blitzing, Krieg'ing and everything inbetween

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Wilheim Barclay
  • Character Race
    Heartlander

Recent Profile Visitors

228 profile views
  1. Time create a wood elf for TrendE I guess
  2. Wilheim seems to agree with the ghost of King Marius with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged and continued reading his book.
  3. Dixie throws a few gang signs to his friend Mike and Manuel and Eric as they cook a squirrel on a stick near some high elven woods. "Bruvver we were kangz of our own and shiet but now apparently we bowin' to dem edgy magick peepul. Vira'ker was our end mayne, and naw apparently dem high elves and snow elves and dem Valah can kick auh ass when dey want."
  4. Wilheim remembers the sad tears of the young Vyronov, his expression turning into a stoic one. He nods his approval to His Majesty's decision. A man must place his duties above all, and Wilheim respects Andrik for being loyal to the realm. Doesn't mean he enjoyed the young girl's tears though, his heart goes for her in pity.
  5. Dixie listens into the talk of the high elves while he talks **** on them from outside the gate, as the Sillmuwhatevertheirnameis don't let him into the city because of racism. "Yeah, this guy for..that position bruda!"
  6. Huh.. was I the only one already doing this by my own?
  7. Dixie flashes S.W.A gangsigns towards the people repping the purple, proudly displaying his colours to the men fighting among themselves, while he takes a hit from his joint, throwing even more gangsigns
  8. Ser Wilheim Barclay looks at the two contradicting posts as he sips from his scotch, shrugging to himself. “Eh.” is the only thing he can muster out.
  9. In a dim, candlelit room, the knight's hands would tremble upon hearing the grim, grim news. His breath getting messier with each letter he read, with his face taking a woeful look while his body slumped down into the chair. The war claimed nearly all people in walks of his life. Through gritted teeth he would bang a fist on the table, to express his frustration, but even actions were not able to speak louder than words. Tears freely flowing down from his cheek as a result of learning his death, Wilheim slumps down into a corner, silently fighting a lost battle with his tears. He had known Ulric since he was a boy, attended his knighting ceremony. Ulric was a star, being knighted at such a young age. He was cheerful, funny and brave. A happy and a remarkable individual who cared for people from every walks of life. He remembered how Ulric saved Marcella. He remembered the good days the trio had, along with Konrad. He would go over to light one candle in his good friend's memory, in the darkest corner of his room, with reddened eyes.
  10. Wilheim smiled towards Marcella as both sat on the dinner table. He would take a deep breath, rubbing his temples from all the writing he did for the invitations. He had an aura of excitement on him, as he grinned happily towards his family members gathered on the table, along with Marcella. He would particularly look towards Rolf Barclay, and Rhegal Barclay as the people who he grinned towards, for they were yet to get married! He raised his goblet, proclaiming, “Prost, for our new family member! May our blades be sharp, and our tongues sharper!” he would say, as the Barclay family toasted in honour of it’s new member. That night, wearing his nightly gown, Wilheim would smile upon his to-be wife. “I am so excited for this occasion, my love. Mein friends from every walk of life shall be a part of this special, special day. We were meant to be together.”
  11. Ser Wilheim has no idea what is going on, but cheers for Hekkaes anyway!
  12. Ser Wilheim Barclay signs, for the glory of Ayr!
  13. Noves

    Golden Hand Legion

    Dixie yawns as he smokes a cigarette, remembering the child dark elf these legionnaires have recruited to do errands. He shrugs to himself. "More power to them I guess."
  14. Ser Wilheim reads this missive and raises an eyebrow, pinning this to his wall to laugh ever so often.
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