ferdaboy

Hey guys, ever since joining the Moderation team, I’ve wanted to make changes that reflected what the community wanted. The answers you provide here will not only help me do what is best for the community but also allow the rest of the moderation team to see what you guys want. We will also open up a channel in the Moderation Discord where you will be able to discuss and expand upon things mentioned in the poll, as well as things that were not mentioned in the poll. https://discord.gg/nSuRUMvCbM

Ser Garen stood proudly amongst his several broken lances and pikes, ready to take the fight to Veletz once again.

Garen looked to the orc with awe, ready to learn all he could from him.

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Garen did not smile. He was unhappy, but he congraluted his sister and her new husband regardless.

Garen should of tried to finish wolfdwg off

"WHAT A FIGHT! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" shouted Garen Baruch, proud of the work he had done that day.

Garen held his sword up high waving it back and forth, shouting alongside Ivan. "AVE THE GATEMAN!" he roared.

Titus Horen read the missive, smiling as he prepared for battle!

Garen Baruch shook his brother awake, sticking the missive in his face. "LOOK!" he yelled, "Sigmar, tha' king's done et!" He began polishing his armour and doing his daily pushups. @Greehn

"He'll be back! Ah know et. A shame 'e didn't stay long enough to die like a real man." remarked Garen, disappointed with how quickly the Novellen pigs gave up.

Garen stuck his tongue out like this (:P) excited for the wedding. He pens a letter to the two congratulating them.

“Et appears the true kings of Stassion are the Veletzian dogs” said a Haenser by the name of Garen Baruch

“Oh! What a turn of events!” Said a young Baruch squire upon reading the missive

get a job lil guy

i was being sarcastic ***** yourself out to the nearest st for the coolest items and then you can win within a few emotes. mamba mentality

just clear ur schedule for the occasional 3 hour long crp or log out

Garen showed the report to Octavian, happy to see his friend recognized for his genius plan!

Gawyn saying his final goodbye to Sylvester, his favorite steed Beneath the silent shroud of Aaun’s midnight sky, a solitary figure emerged, concealed by the oppressive dark that blanketed the city. The figure, atop his horse, pressed on relentlessly, urging his horse past the brink of exhaustion, until the beast could bear his weight no longer. In the cold, silent embrace of the Merryweather mountains, he released the spent steed, leaving it to do as it pleased. It was an unusual sight to imagine Gawyn Tiber without the familiar presence of Sylvester, his cherished horse. Consumed by a profound sadness, he trudged forward, alone and footsore. In the cradle of the mountains, a temple loomed, a place Gawyn had visited many times in the past, but never alone. The climb, guided by the feeble flicker of a singular torch, weighed heavy on his soul. Each step seems heavier than the last. The temple in question was dedicated to Saint Godwin and held memories of times shared with Henry Alstion. Upon reaching the heart of the temple, Gawyn’s legs gave, and he fell to his knees. Before him was a haunting stain, a grim reminder of a friend whom he had found here, lifeless. His voice trembled as he whispered prayers into the cold, silent void. He sought absolution for what he was preparing to do, begged for the protection of his children, and even saved a prayer for young Olive. His voice resonated with the weight of loyalty for those he had served, friends he held dear, but above all, his heart cried out in anguish for Aaun, his kingdom and the ideals it once embodied. In the dark embrace of the overgrown chamber, Gawyn’s figure was bent in agonized reflection. Time seemed to warp, bringing him back to the day of his knighting, the echoing promise of an oath resounding: “Only upon death, does my duty end.” The chilling memory of a friend who had taken the same path many years ago haunted his every thought. With a heavy heart and trembling hands, he unsheathed his blade, pressing its cold edge to his throat. And with that, he made a tragic and irrevocable decision, releasing himself from his duty. As his life drained from his body, he thought to himself, did this make him a coward? He believed so, but he hoped that others may see it differently. A villager of the nearby hamlet down in the Principality of Merryweather would venture up high, curious about the broken-down structure that lay at the top of the mountain. Upon entering he found a body, lifeless and long dead, laying in the center of the chamber. Upon inspection, he found a letter, in which the villager made good work of bringing to the relevant authorities and dispensing throughout the realm.

Subject-05 is very much still alive at the moment

Gawyn thought back to his few interactions with the people mentioned as he read the missive. He cast it aside and reflected upon the words it bore. "This'll be fun," he said sarcastically.

ferdaboy Tedduard #84888