Vaasek
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Posts posted by Vaasek
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”Who?“ the young Andriy wondered.
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”Wub a hozh ideuh... go bahk tuh dah azh’z whu banizhed uz... zhunned uz... Bah...” one of the Children of Leydluk, Krutmozak’Raguk rambled to himself...
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”Ave Imperium, Ave Haense, Ave Joseph” The young Andriy Marbrand uttered.
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Andriy Marbrand readies himself.
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”Ok, cool, you win a lot of skirmishes, but we still haven’t been rewarded with a zone to constantly fight on...” Andriy muses.
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”Curonia delenda est.” A man remarked lowly, clad in armor older than himself, passed down as heirloom.
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4 hours ago, Milenkhov said:
Rodrik nods – The Knight Paramount of Haense stood mightly besides Prince Yury as they defeated the Owynists in the proximity of Ves – a smirk adorning his visage after that...
Leon Marco de Savin wonders if the Bird & Bard Tavern counts as ‘outskirts’.
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Leon de Savin watches idly as more and more houses rise, but few maintain their prestige and heraldry.
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Ok, now onto an actual big brain comment pertinent to the thread and not diverting to the other problems
First and foremost I’ll have to completely agree with @drfate786 and @ForeverGinger. We keep blaming the magics, shelving them and slapping them across the cheeks, putting legitimate, good lore pieces on the bench whilst **** like Naztherak and homsexual demon children run rampant (No offense @Vindicant). We shelved Muun because it was too OP, but we had no efforts – from the LT, that the community could see, to fix it.
We keep blaming the lore for being somehow badly written or in need of tweaks, but the last Magic blacklist I saw being put to effort was on Luv for powegaming Necromancy and Blood Magic – way back in 2017, I believe. Really, what good is it shelving the magic and blaming the lore itself, and not punishing the people that use it poorly, that conduct themselves the way they conduct themselves, and quit shelving stuff?
Besides that, onto the point;
Magic CRP is completely fine, as long as the player casting is properly doing so, and the player that is suffering the casting or casting back is not a **** in L-OOC and comprehends that sometimes a magic can one-shot them if they are dumb enough to allow the mage to cast. A simply thing as throwing a pebble onto a voidal mage to try and disconnect them is something possible, but instead people go about and either screech in L-OOC about powergaming or call PvP.
And why?
Because instead of fixing how the players act, we blame the lore, because the playerbase apparently has no clue how things function. We’ve had so much time of bad lore management that it’s come to the point that players can’t be assed to go out and look for information pertaining to magic, and would much rather avoid it entirely and jump straight into PvP, knowing that most Mages are RP elitists.Is that a proper response, @FlamboyantTyrant?
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[Redacted]
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23 minutes ago, Keldrith said:
Prince Elrion Visaj laughs at the note, looking down at it with disgust. ”Since when are we a bunch of brutes? Try somewhere else.”
“Nice. Go back to your acid pits, beta-male.” Nine-Lives Davis commands.
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9 minutes ago, Moribundity said:
Vex would've gladly sung along as a Princess of Alderyn... If she thought the snow elves of Fenn were doing any good for the world and not being a blight upon civilised society. Instead, she merely cackled in humor. "My four year old child could write a better anthem like this in their sleep. A horribly weak display of faux power. Good job, Fenn ass kissers- what do you want? A cookie?" Rising from her throne as her servant tossed the note into a nearby brazier, the redeemed true elf made to pace off to watch the paint in her bedroom dry; a much more entertaining task than reading dull anthems. What she regretted most was the time she'd wasted reading the anthem of a Union that would eventually fall by her allies' hands.
“I think it’s a joke.” Leon suggested
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(( I hate how I love this ))
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A legionnaire of ages old smiles in the distance, seeing a friend finally getting what he truly deserves.
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“Deus Vult. Deus Magnum. Deus Invictus.” Leon de la Cruz lowly mutters while clapping
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An elderly bearded man who was once Arch-Chancellor clapped idly.
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(Credits to ShahabAliza on Deviantart)
“Delusions.... beautiful! Yes, yes... delusions...”There had been no such thing for him as vision. A dark abyss stared at him and he stared back with pride and confidence, though eventually, that would be shattered. Pieces. The dark abyss stared at him, and he stared back, with shattered pride, broken confidence. Each day it all worsened. It had been but two years of seeing nothing but the darkness that called to him. That drew him in. That tried to convince him to give up. He kept telling himself no... don’t go. No. He didn’t have much to live for. Or did he? He didn’t know.
”There is something in the abyss... there is! Not only darkness, no no no... more, more!”
But of course, he couldn’t. No. He couldn’t. He had hope. In his delusions, he saw a paradise in the darkness that weaved his intentions. Twisted creatures running about ashen fields, an odd moon staring down at him, shapes of earth protruding from the ground and pointing to the skies, as if a desperate attempt to reach perfection had wrought them to disgrace, misery. Gazing upon it all, he could only figure. How had it all come to this? It amazed him. Delusions? Perhaps. Truth? Perhaps. A figure of his mind or not, he allowed it to happen.
”I... knew it! It called to me!”
The man screamed in joy, for none to hear but himself. The creatures, paying no heed to the unwanted visitor, simply continued about the oddities they performed. Amazed, he continued, walking with determination within his dream, headed to the valley where he saw leave-less trees erupt from the ground in a crooked though elegant stance that would amaze the eyes of any. Eyes. He had no blindfold here. Why? He didn’t put too much thought into it. He reached a tree, and a single noise echoed through the abyss.
”Caw caw.”
It was unclear. A crow? A raven? A bird? A man? He didn’t know. The sound echoed through the valley, through his mind, through the very expanses of his being, tormenting his mind. He stopped, gazing upon the tallest of the crooked trees, it’s mix of wrath, fury and misery with a perceivable elegance and unearthly brilliance could drive the mind of even the most stoic of men to commit acts they’d never do. But a mind so far into it’s delusion couldn’t be driven further. He stopped, and gazed upon the shadow that rested upon the branch.
”Caw caw”
It rung through his mind once more. Caw caw. Crow. It was a crow. Tales of yore came to his mind. One in particular, that his father had made sure to tell the boy. The crooked crow reminded him of a gravedigger. A sexton. It made him widen his eyes, perhaps to grant him more vision, more insight. No. It wasn’t that. The crow wanted him. Wanted something from him. The bird, the shadow lunged free from the branch, and into the man. He wheezed and gasped for air, stumbling backwards and falling onto the ground of his own dream. It wasn’t his own anymore. No no, it wasn’t. He suffocated. It was an unearthly feeling. Unholy. Every adjective he could input, he did.
The light of day shone clear. Clear through the blinds and the blindfold. It blinded him for a bit, making the man wince and turn about in the makeshift bed inside the rotting, abandoned cabin the ‘ker had found solace in through the night. Opening his eyes within the cloth of the blindfold, he hadn’t noticed at first. Perhaps he was still dreaming? He saw, clear, the roof of the decrepit building. He saw the rotting walls, the mold that corrupted it, though admittedly, it was faulty. He laid there, looking and observing at every detail he could muster. He closed his eyes, and opened them again. He could see. How? He didn’t care. No. He didn’t. He stood, gathering his things. He stopped, and thought... The crow. Was it really? He recalled the dream, vividly. It had shaken him to the core, traumatized his already plagued mind. The crow. That could’ve been the only reason. Had it? No. He said no, but his mind screamed yes. He couldn’t deny his own subconscious, unaware that it was what he was trying to do. He accepted it.
”The Crow... Yes...”
SpoilerOOC Note: Just a little character development for my Seer, Vamir, who calls himself ‘The Crow’. Call it edgy, whatever, I wanted to write something for him and here we are. o7
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comic sans
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10 hours ago, Trinn said:
There is no need for this conflict to degenerate further. Meet Us upon the field of the battle, meet Our challenge, and prove your strength and right to crow, or prove yourself the cowards and cravens that I can see is true in your black hearts.
“I mean, we have, but everytime we win, it’s either because ‘we had more men’ or because ‘we use skygod help’... What really is the point?” Nine-Lives Davis comments.
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La Republica de Argentina
CHILE: UNA CHANCE!
(Chile: one shot!)
(La Casa Rosada, palace of Government in Buenos Aires, c. 1934)
Speaking to the public, El Presidente Justo has revealed that the troop mobilization, alongside General Peron was directed towards the chileans. Justo stated;
“Chile has become a nuisance. Chile has always been a thorn in la Sud America (South America’s) side, controlling the income of trade from countries like Japan, Russia, even Europe! No long! This is a message to Chile! This is a message to Presidente Alessandrini! Do not retaliate. Do not rise! Chile will be peacefully annexed into Argentina. The Argentine troops will be allowed to enter and occupy Santiago de Chile. Presidente Alessandrini will be officially recognized as the Governor of Chile and will be granted autonomy, and his decisions shall be overviewed and contested ONLY by Presidente Justo.”
The Argentine troops are currently stationed along the border with Chile.
LA ECONOMIA: GRAN FUTURO!
(The economy: great future!)(The minister of the Treasury, Alberto Hueyo)
With promising results coming from the initial changes in the economy, Hueyo has directed his efforts elsewhere. Recognizing the great importance of natural gas mining and agropecuary culture in Argentina, Hueyo has proposed the Land Investment Act. Approved by Justo, these are the effects;- Every farmer with 100+ hectares of land shall be granted the option to start up a state-run company. The farmer is offered 65% of the profit whilst the government is provided with 25% of the profit and provides investment for further technologies.
- The ‘For All’ act is put in place. Any defunct lands (as in, lands with 25+ hectares that are not currently being used, publicly or state-wise, are to be distributed to any and all citizens below the poverty line.
- The ‘Mineradora’ act is put in place. Nationwide investment into natural gas drilling and the creation of Federal/statal company ‘GasArg’ is put in place. GasArg will act as a governmental investment company that injects money into growing gas-drilling companies and encourages them to grow even further.
EL TRATADO DE AVELLANEDA
(The Treaty of Avellaneda)
(Brazilian and Argentinian officials sign the treaty, c. 1933)
It is made official the creation and formalization of the Treaty of Avellaneda, signed in the District of Avellaneda, prior to the Semi-final of the Superliga Argentina match between Huracan and River Plate.
The treaty states;
- - Argentina will not interfere in any wars Brazil partakes in, if they are the aggressors
- - Argentina proposes a DEFENSIVE ALLIANCE, which means that should any of the two be ATTACKED, the other comes to the aid, and vice versa.
The terms of the trade deal are as follows;
- Argentina will import meat and lead at a cheaper price from Brazil.
- Brazil will import gas and corn at a cheaper price from Argentina
- Brazilian private companies are allowed tax-free factories to be built in Argentine territories that border Brazil.
- Argentine private companies are allowed tax-free factories to be built in Brazilian territories that border Argentina
LA SEMINFINAL: RIVER 14 x 0 HURACAN
(The Semifinal: River 14 x 0 Huracan)
(River player Loustau (Alberto Gallo) scores River’s 12th goal, his 5th in the match)
Perhaps too many goals to describe in one news outlet, the first game of the Semifinal of the Superliga de Argentina provided a good show for the supporters who showed up to the Monumental de Nunez to watch a magnificent River Plate HAMMER a battling Huracan.
Huracan, who has faced both financial and political crisis, entered the field hopeful for the final. But an excellent striking trio between Loustau (Alberto Gallo), Tiquinho (Roberto Campos) and Marias (Hugo Marias) was merciless onto Huracan.
At half time River Plate already led 8-0. Four goals by Loustau and four by Marias made the away side crumbled at half time, taking another 6 goals, three by Tiquinho, two by Loustau and one by defender Javier Jamirez.
With that, River are already booked in the final, awaiting the result of the match up between Boca and Defensa y Justicia.
ACTIONS
- Demands to Chile. (MOD)
- Changes in the Economy. (MOD)
- Officialization of the Treaty of Avellaneda.
- Soccer match.
- Super spoopy secret action (MOD).
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oh no
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”Is many the good” Yu-Taoxeng nods approvingly.
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oh **** he did it
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Vamir, the Blind Elf who sometimes went to Adria, smiled.
”Hm!”
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The Falcon Flies Once More.
in The Kingdom of Oren
Posted
The Falcon Flies Once More
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(The young Andriy (left) battling a Pertinaxi Loyalist in the streets of Helena)
He had never seen battle before. Though training provided the boy experience, he could only muster within his mind the horrors and glories that came from it. When the horns of rallying and gathering sounded, the rush went up to his mind, a combination of blood and adrenaline that made the lad shiver. Not even twenty years of age, being seventeen, the young soldier, another midst the flock, had prepared himself, but felt uneasy. Arriving ‘pon the gathering of Orenian soldiers, the proud banners of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska flew high, the eagle proudly presented on it.
Coming close to his soon-to-be brothers in arms, Andriy still had the feeling that he wasn’t properly set for this. His armor felt loose, his sword looked blunt, his vision was blurred by the metal of his helm. But he was determined, to give his best. It wasn’t fast that battle came. Hours and hours the gathering awaited for the horns of battle to be sounded, on the war camp near Helena. Excruciatingly slow moments of tenebrous silence, a space that felt enormous between the war camp and the bridge that lead to the Capital of the Imperium Renatus, that had been drawn.
But they sounded. When the commanders cried out their orders and the horns sounded like a dragon’s roar over the men and women of Orenia, the young Andriy gripped his sword. He reminded himself of the memory of his father, Marius. The man shared his name with the current King Marius II of Haense, and it made him proud, in a way. They would not charge in just yet, the thunderous sounds of trebuchets hurling stones of fire and death over the walls of the Capital, crashing against the streets and the palace, destroying the front of the Palace of Helena, the Renatians withdrawing any resistance from the outer walls.
The screams of injured men filled his ears as he finally charged inside the mud and blood ridden ground of the streets of Helena. To his right, a man of the Reiver company hacked down a Legionnaire and to his left, a Norlander carved through the skull of a Hansetian brother. Andriy picked no targets just yet. Following the main group, the lad headed on to the destroyed entrance of the Palace, now not more than rubble and dead bodies that were stepped onto as the mob of men clashed together in the battle of the ages.
Andriy was savagely thrown to the side by the sheer weight of shields of the enemies, enemies who were quickly cut down by the main force. Andriy had not yet wetted his blade, and it troubled him. Such a dishonor, if they won. Winning a battle without contributing, without wetting his own blade? Unacceptable, the young lad thought. Afront him came a legionnaire. The man, taller than the young lad, roared a war-cry, and his sword came crashing down. Parrying with difficulty, Andriy deflected, with a knee, stunning the man with a well-placed strike, and then carving through the space between his pauldron and his chestplate, rendering the man’s left arm useless.
Afterwards, Andriy would show no mercy. Cold, as he had made himself be for this circumstance, the fallen legionnaire would be short work to Andriy, the lad’s adrenaline filling his brain… and then it hit him. The head of a mace collapsed against his head, denting his armor inwards and making him see three different perceptions. The lad crashed against the ground. Nae… He is a Marbrand. We don’t fall like this in battle… It was all he could think. Mustering himself to his feet, barely knowing anymore where he was… the blowing of the horns to signify retreat ringed in his head.
Andriy had no time to question what had happened, he only wished to live another day. Another day to fight. Another day for more glories. The living Marbrand, one of the few, if not the only one. He carried on his back the weight of the House, and it’s past glories, shunned by mistakes of some. He lived another day, another opportunity to reinstate House Marbrand, to glorify them once more.
The Falcon Flies Once More…