AnonymousAlexa

The Esteemed Court of Failor The Loyal, Good, Brave, Triumphant, and Qualified Peoples of Failor vs. Adaranth Ravamyar 2nd of The Grand Harvest, 130 S.A. The Defendant, Adaranth Ravamyar, has been been found guilty until detained to stand trial for the following crimes: I. Terrorizing the realms of Failor and Almaris. II. Assaulting members of the Band of the Crossed Claw. III. Assaulting members of Redclyf. IV. Assaulting King Cyris I of the Wee Folk V. Manipulating the politics of Redclyf, by appointing himself shadow-commander. VI. Creating corruption in Redclyf and the wider Realm. VII. Consuming newborn babies. VIII. Disemboweling pregnant women. IX. Defiling sacred Fatherist idols. As such, Renilde I, Arch-Duchess of Petra, has instituted a bounty on the head of Adaranth Ravamyar. All good peoples of Failor are implored to heed her call, and seek out this deplorable criminal, so that justice may be delivered. In reparations for damages brought about by Adaranth Ravamyar, the Court of Failor has decreed that each individual wronged by Adaranth Ravamyar or the Redclyfian menace may demand one item of recompensation, so long as the request is within reason. The current demands are issued below. All victims are encouraged to petition for additional demands to be appended. Demands of Reparations: I. Saera Zalnarith: “I would ask that my families heirloom the pendant of Cerridwen be returned to me. If he has otherwise sold it off or destroyed it I would ask for an eye to remind him that gazing upon what does not belong to him is sin.” II. Devrick Wintercrest: “I propose we strip him of all titles and brand him as Adaranth the Crybaby, on account of him acting this way when he didn't get his way.” III. King Cyris: “I wish for the armaments and the armor bearing his family’s colors that he bore when my eyes were taken- that I may take it and display them in a museum; And my kin for generations can look upon the belongings of the man that blinded their king.” IV. [Unnamed Victim]: “In the case he is not executed, I wish for him to renounce all family heritage and Redclyfian titles, just as I had to change my own name.” It is so decreed.

The All Father’s Warning Penned by Hilda Freysson, 130 SA In the restless hours of the night, as sleep eludes me and contemplation consumes my weary mind, an unyielding question persists: Why? Why have our people endured such suffering? Why have the Mori, those sinister invaders, unleashed their malevolence upon our cherished lands? Why has our abode, once a sanctuary of light, succumbed to their oppressive darkness? Why do I find myself composing these words by the flickering campfire, rather than within the comfort of my ancestral abode? The answer, dear reader, is woven within the tapestry of faith, or rather, the lack thereof. In a time preceding the divine inception of the All Father, our realm dwelled within a perpetual shroud of darkness; a natural state unaltered by the touch of light. It is through the benevolent intervention of the Father that we were bestowed with illumination and vitality. However, we, the descendants, are not entitled to these blessings. For as mighty as the All Father is, he remains tethered to an eternal struggle against the ancient olde ones, whose existence he cannot entirely erase. Thus, it becomes our sacred duty, as children of the All Father, to join His noble cause during our transient existence. Our enlightened forebearers recognized this solemn responsibility and forged formidable orders to stand resolute against the encroaching Long Dark. However, Norland, once a bastion of valor, has succumbed to a lamentable state. The Nordish populace, once renowned for their fortitude, now wavers in the face of adversity, their hearts succumbing to weakness and despondency. Our offspring are bereft of the foundational teachings that once intertwined Faith and culture, setting them upon a path of ignorance that perpetuates this tragic state of affairs. Undeniably, the ancient malevolence has discerned our people's inherent flaw, a weakness that renders us vulnerable to their insidious machinations. The Mori, serving as harbingers of the Long Dark, have been dispatched to herald its arrival, seeking to reclaim our world’s primordial obscurity, before the All Father's divine flame graced our existence. Though I hold steadfast optimism that the Long Dark has yet to envelope our entire realm, it has certainly cast its oppressive veil upon Almaris, poised to expand further should our people persist in complacency. The darkness wrought by the Mori, while not an irrevocable defeat, serves as a dire clarion call–an urgent reminder that the All Father finds himself engaged in a battle of diminishing odds. Let us not falter in the face of this encroaching night. May this solemn reminder ignite the flames of resolve within us, urging us to rekindle the dwindling embers of faith and rally against the relentless darkness. Our sacred duty beckons, and it is only through our collective resolve, guided by the All Father's eternal flame, that we may yet illuminate the path to salvation.

Hilda Freysson polished her blade, preparing to slay the blights of Failor. "It is too late for them to redeem themselves in the eyes of the All-Father. May their souls suffer in the abyss for eternity.

I sincerely value your recognition of the support we provide. The ad-hominem attacks directed towards myself and my acquaintances have begun to significantly impact me emotionally.

just stay in the safe zone lol

Wow, we're lucky @__Clocky is a genius and remembered a youtube video he watched a year ago at 3 am

gaevos

Hilda unfurled the letter, beaming from ear to ear as she skimmed the note's contents. Tapping her pen upon her desk in thought, she contemplated the subject of her next thesis.

The Folly of Canondom: The Thesis of a Young Fatherist Penned by Hilda Ash, age 16 In the course of my tutelage under the esteemed guidance of Eyvind Kvitravn, I have extensively immersed myself in the profound tenets of the Red Faith and the teachings of the All-Father. As my understanding of my own faith has expanded, so too has my inquisitive spirit, drawing me towards the study of alternate systems of belief. Naturally, I began with a thorough exploration of the preeminent creed among the descendants: Canonism. Upon initial examination, I could not help but discern certain similarities between these faiths. Notably, both acknowledge the existence of a divine creator who shaped the mortal realm. Moreover, the Canonists, akin to our own devotion to paragons, hold reverence for their saints. However, beyond these initial semblances, the paths of these two faiths diverge significantly, leading them on distinct trajectories. The most salient divergence concerns the nature of the creator and the extent of his dominion over all planes of existence. Canonists maintain an unwavering belief in their god's omnipresence, asserting his sovereign watchfulness over the world in its entirety, from the celestial realm above to the depths of the netherworld. In contrast, adherents of the Red Faith deny the All-Father the exalted status of an omniscient entity. Our Faith proclaims that the All-Father reigns supreme over the heavens and our mortal realm, yet withdraws his presence from the abyss. Although seemingly a minute discrepancy in matters of doctrine, it exposes a profound flaw in the Canonist worldview. For if their god is indeed omnipotent and inherently benevolent, as the Canonists contend, then how does one explain the existence of evil in the world? The truth is, there exists no satisfactory answer. The followers of the Red Faith perceive this incongruity as evidence that the creator, the All-Father, remains absent from the abyss of malevolence. Hence, it is incumbent upon us, his children, to dutifully adhere to his precepts in exchange for his protection against the inexorable Long Dark. Secondly, the manner in which the Canonists venerate their ancestors pales in comparison to the practices of the Red Faith. While the Canonists hold their saints in high regard, their homage extends little beyond naming their bellicose holy orders in honor of these revered figures. On the contrary, the children of the All-Father, upon initiation into the Faith, select a patron whose influence shall shape their choices throughout life's journey. Furthermore, adherents of the flame undertake the regular act of offering oblations to their chosen patron. Consequently, the ancestors occupy a far more significant role in the lives of the All-Father's progeny. Moreover, when exploring the realm of magic and witchcraft, a chasm of disagreement looms between the Red Faith and the Church of the Canon. The Canonists, in their tolerance, extend a measure of acceptance to those who wield magic without prostrating themselves before a distinct deity. However, such magnanimity is viewed with profound disquiet within the Red Faith. We firmly maintain that the employment of magic disrupts the delicate harmony of the natural order, for it draws its power from the sinister abyss, the abode of demons. Thus, the practice of magic inevitably engenders a burgeoning malevolence within the mortal realm, perpetuating the encroachment of evil forces. This stark contrast in perspectives further exacerbates the impassable chasm that divides our faiths, impeding any semblance of amicable coexistence. Lastly, the proximity to the creator in the afterlife diverges between the two faiths. The Canonist doctrine maintains that the heavens are partitioned into seven ethereal spheres, forming a hierarchical structure wherein the first sky resides closest to god, while the seventh resides farthest. Within the Red Faith, we also share a similar perspective, positing that the truly devout shall forever find their place by the side of the All-Father, while others may dwell at varying distances from his presence, albeit not necessarily estranged entirely. However, the Canonists err in their belief regarding the determinants of this celestial hierarchy. Rather than suggesting that their god exclusively determines the company he keeps for eternity, the Canonists have arrogated to the High Pontiff the authority to declare only the sainted ones worthy of the highest heavens. This presents an inherent quandary, for it is not the prerogative of mortal beings such as ourselves to ascertain the rightful place of others in the afterlife. Indeed, it is beyond the purview of mortal perception. In conclusion, it is evident that the Red Faith and the Church of the Canon do find limited common ground in their beliefs, yet these concurrences remain sparse and widely dispersed. Therefore, it becomes manifestly clear that genuine adherents of the sacred flame can never dwell harmoniously among Canonists, nor can the latter find solace within the folds of our sacred creed, as the very bedrock of our respective doctrines diverge profoundly. Nonetheless, while cohabitation remains an unattainable aspiration, coexistence is not nearly as unthinkable. Despite the profound disparities that separate us, it is not beyond reason that the Canonists possess the latent capacity to assume a pivotal role in our ceaseless struggle against the encroaching Long Dark, should they but awaken to their senses and stand in unison with their brethren, rather than persistently endeavoring to vanquish us.

Hilda Freysson grinned from ear to ear, preparing to spread the missives, or rather, the flame of the All-Father to all infidels.

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The aforementioned Lady von Draco chuckled lowly as she skimmed the missive. “Proof?” she inquired to nobody in particular, before wrapping her bruised foot in a bandage. A bruise acquired from attempting to break down a certain sturdy door…

This is super informative, Sander! Just one thing, Sedan’s dominant house is de Joannes. Seeing as it’s a direct cadet branch of Horen, as Marna and Novellen are, I think it should get its own color.

A letter is published to the Heartlands. Tears stain many of its copies. I am Scipio Vir the Caelian, from the Duchy of Minitz. I am a virtuous Canonist, and seek before all else the Glory of God. The Glory of God is not in this war. The Duchy of Adria has not acted unreasonably given the course of War, and having submitted itself to penance of the Church of Canon. Despite this, war escalated- but the Duchy of Adria was able defend itself and through victory achieve independence. Since then, they have offered terms of peace that are reasonable. They forced me to join the army. My sister has been forced to marry someone she doesn't love. She was then conscripted to their military, forcing her to attack a much more elite opponent. They tried to drown me once, they made me do THE TRAILS OF GAINS and so much more. The Duchy of Minitz has not served its peoples or its own interests in the pursuit of this war, and the Kingdom of Aaun’s refusal of reasonable peace terms has only caused its people to suffer, its youth to die. Scipio Vir

Sofya von Draco gently pat the Falkenrath girl's shoulder. "I enjoyed our chat, lass. Stay safe out there, ja?"

"Up you go!" Sofya von Draco watched, giddy with glee, as her own personal roadside tower began its construction.

Hey gaius, genuinely appreciate your willingness to moderate Minecraft Twitter wars. That being said, I know what situation you’re referencing, and I don’t think it’s fair to refer to it as blackmail. My intention with that post was merely to point out a flaw/hypocrisy in an argument, and in no way did I threaten to leak any of the screenshots. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, as I don’t actually have access to any screenshots, but only know of their existence. Just wanted to clear that up, cheers!

yeah, I actually hate elves in real life :3

The aforementioned Katharina Vyronov lofts a brow from the Seven Skies. "They're still on about this? What has it been, two centuries?"

I wonder who this Walter fella is

An artist’s depiction of the Haeseni dungeons ☩ THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE ☩ Even behind bars, the Draco matriarch refused to stifle her pride. As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. The agony of awaiting her inevitable doom was quite taxing on the mind. But what pained her most were the voices of her beloved kin - Helena, her baby girl and youngest of eight; Reinolt, eldest son of Loran, Prince of Mardale; Grania and Caelen, the children of the fallen Donnchadh who had loyally served and protected King Georg I when he was but a young prince. These children, whom she loved so dearly, were to have their precious lives cut short. So, when an unnamed foreigner stepped into her cell and pledged to assist in her escape, she refused. "I am ready to die. I have lived long enough. I am old, and weak. My purpose has been served." "Your Highness…" "Please, save my children." Her accomplice complied, working in concert with the various other Draco associates on the premises. Two by two, her posterity were escorted elsewhere, under the guise that they were to stand trial for their crimes - crimes they would never answer to. First, went Reinolt and Helena, followed by the always-bickering siblings, Grania and Caelan. Sofya was the final prisoner remaining. With nobody to depend on but herself, she hatched a grand scheme to escape. It was risky, but she was left with no other options. Despite the inherent danger, the elder Draco remained oddly tranquil. If she were to die, she would die knowing that she did all she could to ensure the safety of her kin above all else, including her own survival. And so she did die. Once the prison guard returned, he found her, lying still upon the cot. Carelessly, he wrapped her into a tarp and began lugging her outside the damp dungeon. The guard and his liege, King Alexander I of Balian, busied themselves with discussions of how to properly dispose of the body. But as they were distracted, the tarp tore open, and Sofya leapt from inside. Before the Balianites had any time to process their initial shock, Sofya had already scrambled to her feet and darted towards the gates. The incompetent Balianite guard quickly lost Sofya, though the King remained close behind. Through the Haeseni forests and farmlands, she ran, not daring to spare even a glance behind her. She continued to run, halfway across Almaris, with Alexander in pursuit. Despite the Balian King’s best efforts, he hardly managed to even dent the Draco’s sturdy plate. Within the vast forests of Mardale, the King lost sight of Sofya. And so, the hardy warrior escaped, but our tale has not yet concluded! Whistling for her trusty steed, Sofya made haste to Celia’nor, where she overheard her kin had been taken. Marching into the square, she demanded to know the whereabouts of her family, until tragedy struck. There, standing before her, was King Alexander I; the man she had so masterfully evaded not ten Saint’s Minutes prior. But this time, he was accompanied by Bult Wick, Lord Governor and Lord Treasurer of Aaun. Both foes drew their blades, and the Wick lunged towards Sofya, who swiftly scurried backwards in an expert evasion of his incoming strike. Sofya weighed her options, but the gates behind her were shut. Trapped, she drew in a steady breath and steeled herself for a fight. Miraculously, the surrounding elves had heard the commotion and rushed to her aid. In a swift motion, their blades pierced the flesh of the aggressors. Towering over the fallen Bult Wick, Sofya let out a triumphant laugh. "Lesson number one: don’t **** with House von Draco, you stupid Aaunie rat." Those were the very last words the Wick would hear. After expressing her undying gratitude to those benevolent elves, Sofya departed the city, with her kin in tow.

Sofya von Draco idly polished her chest plate, scrubbing away the blood of the rat. “Let this be a lesson to them all,” she proclaimed, to nobody in particular.