cappor

i don't mean to say i appealed just in time, but i appealed just in time

This is an incredibly weird post.

ISCESI, still in his cave of solitude, shook his head in disappointment. Was it time to switch sides? Is a new era among us?

wrong

Iscesi, from the distant whereabouts of his holiday retreat, watched as the envelope flew down a lengthy chimney, the only thing serving an entrance to he and his isolation. He pressed his thumb against the Ferrymen sigil, and having been the only word of his faction in years, he instantly, and albeit slowly, read aloud the contents to his only companion on the isle - a feline named Meow. He hadn't known of this peace, it was something unlike the Ferrymen, so rightfully he concluded his dreary absence must have provoked this armistice. No fighting force is a good force without their best warrior. "...no clear oppressor... horrible people..." He muttered, only bothering to skim the rest until reaching the edict, "FACE MY MEN" Oh, how he thought! This must mean his key to freedom. Surely a scallywag would come in due time to save him from this barbaric and cruel punishment - for what, he really didn't know - to return on the Ferrymen fighting line. And so, he comforted himself in the firm cushion, and will wait there until his savior makes sign.

Pretty badass

these rep farm posts getting crazier

Fishron, the subject of sailor superstition and mythos - inhabitant of wretched seas and thought to be the sole hand of sunken galleons and vessels alike. Accounts of the vile and scabrous beast dub tusks piercing its swine-like facade - a colossal body with wings extruding the pasty emerald hue of what could only be centuries of sea debris built upon its stocky figure. With only a single fin to flaunt the illusion of a familiar animal, Fishron will lure sea laborers off hunting routes to thrash their frail and rickety wooden vessels until capsizing into the harsh abyss below. Since the first tales of Fishron arose years ago, fishermen, whalers, and hunters alike have attempted the endeavor of poaching the beast - with promises of riches and wealth to parade should it be done. Numerous times have fleets doubled in size, all to commence voyage and never be seen again. But there tells of a single sailor who faced the beast head on and lived to tell the tale - a whaler by the name of Vance Wellerman. Aboard a hunting ship over a hundred years ago did the man humbly work before the night of great peril struck. He recalls howling winds and waves larger than the ship itself, and the grieving cries of fellow crewmen suffering the brutal creature in the waters overboard. Luckily did Vance find and flee on a door before the ship went under, views of Fishron terrorizing the men he called brothers just under the horizon. Six days were spent traversing the unforgiving seas on merely a flimsy wooden door - starving, thirsty and frail. Upon landfall would Vance return to the city of Freeport where he recalled the memories of the agonizing event. They mocked, laughed, and degraded the man - it was their fault for sailing to a storm. For years he attempted to salvage his respect - but to no avail, Vance forever lived to prove Fishron’s existence - to which he did not succeed before his time. I, Duke Wellerman, son of Vance Wellerman, live to redeem my father and justify the existence of Fishron. A life of taunting and mocking enveloped him into a forever hiding. I will succeed in his name, and shall begin by offering a bounty of 500 MINAE To any sailor who returns the beast of Fishron to I - dead or alive. I can be found by the docks of Petra.

Turkey sandwich or

An Owl departs Southwards for the cities of Aevos, delivering a note to their aviaries penned to the unnamed laborer.

real nice! to not have to put as many spoilers you can put all your pictures in an imgur gallery and just put that link

Has to be these versions

Sick video!

segregation and racially separated nations

cappa4mod