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Apollonous

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  1. On the 11th of this Malin's Welcome, in the year 169 S.A. I, Apollyon Snowell, was viciously assaulted by two indivuduals in Dunwen's tavern. Below is my account of the events: Today, after completing the village expansion and housing project for Honorary Halflings, I entered the tavern upon hearing a commotion. Recognizing the voice of Nemae, an honorary halfling and mali'ame, I approached her with the intention of offering her one of my newly built homes. However, I was met with unwarranted hostility from both Nemae and ger grandfather. You might know him as 'Uncle'. Initially, I overlooked this hostility, attributing it to Uncle and the musin named Copper having sustained injuries. When I inquired about the situation, Nemae responded with the same hostility, hurling insults at me. Attempting to defuse the situation, I urged Nemae to put aside past grievances and tell me what had occurred, expressing genuine concern. Despite my efforts, Nemae remained hostile, threatening violence. Ignoring her threats, I recounted a previous incident involving Uncle's inappropriate behavior towards me. This escalation led to Nemae physically attacking me, prompting me to defend myself. As I retreated upstairs, I encountered a goggled goblin brandishing a knife, persumably associated with Nemae, and a young halfling girl hurling racial slurs. In the ensuing struggle as I tried to escape, I sustained injuries to my lower back and a stab-wound to my leg, despite my attempts to repel my assailants. Fortunately, King Patches and Moth intervened, Moth providing crucial medical assistance to my leg. I am grateful to Moth for their timely aid, which likely saved my life. However, I document these events to ensure clarity, especially when reported to King Cyris, Thain Mimosa and Sheriff Breasal and I refuse to tolerate further threats to my honorary status like I did the last time commotion like this occurred including Uncle and I. As the elder-appointed mayor of the Honorary Halfling village (which I have named Bestiesville), I request Nemae's honorary status be revoked and the goblin assailant be banished or disarmed. Despite the lack of a formal lawbook, I implore the authorities of our village to uphold justice and ensure the safety of all residents, including myself.
  2. Official Lurinite Homeowners Guidebook Issued at year 168 S.A This guide is made to answer commonly asked questions regarding homeowning in the Serene State and to finally clarify some rules and regulations. On Getting moved in: To get yourself a home in Lurin all you need to do is first locate a Steward. To find out who they are look no further than the big tree in the square. When talking with a steward about getting moved into your own home you will be required to: - Endure a prick with an aurum needle by your steward. - Go through a short lecture/questionnaire regarding Lurinite culture meant to educate you on many Lurinite's beliefs and way of living - On Building Limitations: - Homes may not be altered to have basements. - You may not take down the sign that has your home's address. If you really don't like it's placement you may however move it. - You may not merge your home with another home. - You may not remove/change the outer walls of your home. This includes adding balconies, doors or windows that weren't already there. Examples and exceptions: - You may resize your door or exchange it for another one. - You may decorate the outside of your home however you wish while following the listed above. On taxation of homes: - Taxes are collected the first elven day of the week (ooc: Monday) and is paid with tax slabs. - Tax slabs can be bought in the bank/taxes building and have inscriptions that say their worth. Occasionally, you may also receive Social Tax Slabs from council members of Lurin that are given out freely to people who portray activity around the city. Apollyon Snowell Royal Consort and Minister of Interior
  3. Apollyon would yawn loudly when she woke up in her own home in the Halfling village before getting up and washing off her face with soap and water before looking off to the side at that missive she'd picked up yesterday. She'd gasp as realization struck her before shoving it in her pocket and running out. "Cyris!" She hollered and there he was, the Halfling King himself who he shoved the missive too and pointed to the Pontiff's own signature. "'Et's his Hornyness..." A shit-eating grin formed on her face as she continued towards the big city. Once outside Lurin she'd stopped to peek into it's newest vassal Caledonia, where she soon located the purple head honcho himself Conor and waved the missive in front of his face. "'Et's- 'et's-" She'd WHEEZE then giggle madly as she let out in a whisper, the same bad joke for the second time that day. "His hornyness...." All that before hurrying to the gates of Lurin where she darted inside to locate that wife of her. She ran up and down the streets frantically, scouring the councils' chambers, the keep, the gatehouse, the keep again before finding her, finally, sitting at that old swing they used to go to. There.. she fell to her knees in the grass... crawling the last few steps to her, waving that same missive above her head. "Lumia!" she huffed and coughed before collapsing altogether... "heh."
  4. Melding Silver with Iron Issued 168 S.A ARTICLE I: Sovereignty - The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Iron Horde hereby acknowledge each other's Sovereignty and governance over their respective territories. ARTICLE II: Mutual Defenses - The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Iron Horde hereby concurs to come to each others' aid should either nation suffer an attack of any kind. -Both armies are to cooperate in joint-training and organization in times of peace or war. ARTICLE III: Non-Aggression - The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Iron Horde hereby ensure each others' citizens' safety when moving between our lands, however, any traveling citizens will be obliged to endure a dark-spawn test if requested to. Anyone that defies Article III will be whitewashed and removed or meet similar punishment if stemming from Lurin. ARTICLE IV: Trade - The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Iron Horde hereby offer one another a tax-exempted stall should either nation want one to sell their choice of goods and wares in. -The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Iron Horde hereby open up their all their mines for citizens' of both nations to utilize as they see fit. ARTICLE V: Duration - This pact will last until Rex Grommash's resignation or death, however, it may also be declared null and void if either signatory violates any of the articles. Lumia Anarion Silver Lubba Edvard Kervallen Hand of the Lubba and Prime Minister of Lurin. Baron of Aevum Apollyon Snowell Royal Consort and Minister of Interior
  5. RETURN OF THE FUNNY SLABS Issued at Year 165 of the Second Age As it turns out, the true taxes were the friends we made along the way! Social tax slabs are tax slabs like the ones you use to pay for your homes, the way to get these are merely by being social within the city at which point one of our super-duper council folk might give you one to reward you for being a Lurinite. The council-members in question being: - Lumia Anarion - Jon Snowell - Apollyon Snowell - Orion Tsecar, - Edvard Kervallen, These tax slabs each account for 10 minas worth of taxes. Meaning that you can pair them easily with normal tax slabs or pay your taxes entirely with social slabs. Royal Consort and Minister of Interior
  6. Apollyon Snowell wants to borrow 5 bucks
  7. [!] A missive has been nailed into the door of every citizen of the village of Dunwen. MISSING: MANGO NECTAR Growing up as Sutican on Arcas, I Apollyon Snowell, would every day upon waking up drag with a rope my chest of unfathomable wealth to the Tavern in our square. There, every single day I would buy out as much Mango Juice as the tavern-keep would allow. After years of this, our main tavern-keeper Pruinae Tathvir had me pay her to just make barrels-full of Mango Nectar for me - nectar, that I managed to maintain, mango nectar I've had with me throughout ALL of Almaris until today... when I discover I've been ROBBED for SOMEBODY had made it into my wine cellar and stolen my ENTIRE supply of AGE-OLD mango nectar. TO THE POOR SOUL THAT ROBBED ME OF THAT WHICH ONLY HAS VALUE TO ME, SHOULD YOU RETURN THIS SUPPLY OF MANGO NECTAR IN IT'S ENTIRETY NOT ONLY WILL I NOT TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB, BUT THE WIZARD OF OUR VILLAGE HAS AGREED TO MAKE YOU AN CUSTOM, MAGICAL ITEM... BUT IF YOU OPT TO NOT RETURN MY SUPPLY, THEN PRAY EVERY DAY UNTIL I FIND YOU AND MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR GOD, FOR I WILL FIND YOU AND WHEN I DO I WILL PUT YOU THROUGH BODILY HARM LIKE YOU NEVER KNEW POSSIBLE, I'LL KEEP YOU ALIVE FOR AS LONG AS I CAN AND WHILE YOU'RE ALREADY HURTING I'LL COVER YOU IN MUCK AND BURY YOU ALIVE WITH A HUNDRED RATS TO SLOWLY DEVOUR YOU BIT FOR BIT, DAY AFTER DAY. You know where I live. Bring back what you stole and you will be rewarded handsomely, please.
  8. The Angel Of The Abyss In the depths of eternal gloom, where even echoes fade to nothingness, the Angel of the Abyss unfurls its wings of perpetual dusk. A being of unrelenting torment and shattered dreams, it traverses the realm of perpetual suffering and hopelessness. Its eyes, twin voids that mirror the desolation within, reflect the ceaseless agony of souls trapped in an unending cycle of despair. It is the bearer of anguish, the embodiment of the relentless march of pain, each step a crushing weight on fragile shoulders. As it drifts through the landscape of shattered aspirations, it carries the echoes of cries unheard, the fragments of aspirations turned to dust, like ashes scattered by an unforgiving wind. Its touch is both a numb ache and a searing blaze, an eternal reminder of the futility of striving in a world that offers no respite. In the embrace of the Angel, one confronts a void that devours all hope, a vortex of despair from which there is no escape. It is the guide through the labyrinth of endless disappointment, the warden of desolation, and the sentinel of a reality where joy is but a distant memory. Amidst the tenebrous wings and the mournful dirge of its presence, one finds not redemption, but an eternal spiral into nothingness. The Angel of the Abyss is the embodiment of futility, the relentless whisperer of defeat that erodes the soul, leaving only a husk of what once was. It is the merciless hand that shatters even the fragments of self-love, leaving behind a void where once there was acceptance. And as the eons stretch into infinity, the cycle remains unbroken. The shattered pieces of the soul are ground to dust, only to be shattered again, an eternal dance of agony without end. The Angel, once a harbinger of sorrow, now a conductor of perpetual suffering, stands as a monument to the unyielding nature of despair, an emblem of a world devoid of meaning, and an eternal reminder of the void that swallows all.
  9. 𝓽𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓼
  10. Apollyon Snowell Apollonous Apollo#5133 All I want for Krugmas is u.. although I could do with some new clothes or any object that’s funny or even mildly interesting, or maybe a pet!
  11. as a Greek I am insulted that drinking is to be considered an Olympic sport
  12. At the same time, Apollyon Snowell revealed herself from a dark corner, then called out. “Hello, Gay… yam dad.“
  13. Somewhere, behind a building in the southern regions of Almaris sits an elfess. This elfess would be Apollyon Snowell. Dressed in brown leather boots, dark jeans and a light beige flannel. Her shirt lacked an entire right sleeve from the shoulder-down where one could see the atronach arm mainly made with black ferrum that had replaced Apollyon’s original limb. The arm was built with aurum in the joints of the fingers and her elbow but it didn’t matter how fine-crafted it was because just like the rest of Apollyon, it was also covered in dust. Somewhere, in a dusty, dirty corner, on a pile of sand Apollyon was left behind. Disregarded for the rats and scorpions to feast on alike. She sat up right, with her bloodied head tilted to the side, that would likely lead to terrible neck pains when she wakes from her unconscious state. Somewhere, all alone and freezing for the third night in a row, sits an elfess, now awake but expressionless as she stared at the spider that had found it’s way onto her lap. Only as the spider scaled her further, and climbed onto her shoulder did she muster up the energy to turn her head to watch its path. Soon, as the spider disappeared from sight entirely, Apollyons grey, blank gaze moved up further and set itself on her already scarred, but still attached ear that had been nailed to the wall behind her at it’s very tip. Somewhere, in a corner, desolated, sits an elfess. Still nailed to the wall but now all out of water. Despite tugging on the nail for days with her metal hand, it wouldn’t budge. Maybe, maybe if she had her sword, the same sword she had made for her by the Ireheart clan during her childhood she could have pulled it out, but it didn’t matter because it had been looted by the same Paladin that had nailed her to the wall. Somewhere, the elfess had gone, the red nail however had not, but it did manage to keep a piece of Apollyon with it. Another defunct piece of her that would likely never remerge with her again. from: wpinterest, artist: unknown
  14. If we don’t get more stories about Riddlewart we riot. ✊
  15. Apollyon Snowell sighs deeply while continuing to hammer onto a new chest piece, with her sleeves pulled up and while cursing under her breath.
  16. Outside the gates of Yong Ping stood Apollyon, irritated and with her left hand at the side of her waist while she knocked on the city's gate with her bastard sword in her right hand, but alas nobody responded and so she groaned, unaware of the fate of her friend inside. She finally placed her blade back into the sheathe on her back before turning around, and instead heading down to the ferry as she couldn't be bothered to walk all the way back home.
  17. Tell me more about this mango juice of yours..
  18. Apollyon Snowell rested at the balcony of her lighthouse, overlooking all of Talon's with her sword, "Avaddon" across her lap, using a sharpening stone on it, preparing herself for what was to come.
  19. Apollyon Snowell could be seen through the window of her home, laying butter onto two pieces of bread as she made herself a sandwich. Suddenly she felt a shiver down her spine and looked around, the thought of some idiot somewhere purposely jumping to conclusions to satisfy their own thirst for blood came over her, though, the elfess thought nothing of it and rolled her shoulders into a shrug as she continued the making of her delicious to-be BLT.
  20. A certain dark-haired elfess could be found sitting on the town’s notice board before hopping down and only then noticing the missive that had gotten stuck at the bottom of her boot. “What’s this?” She asked out loud with nobody around to hear as she bent down and picked it up. “Ah! Yet another archery competition for me to own! ..Here’s hoping I can make Kallian pay the first price a little extra, again.” The girl snickered before turning around and standing up on her tippy toes to place the note then leaving with a smirk plastered on the lower half of her face.
  21. Apollyon inspected the document, turning it over again and again and scanning it up and down as if she was searching for something before turning towards Yuelena to comment to her. "See, I'd love to be here but it doesn't say how."
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