Mescaffier

Somewhere, an ancient knight weeps.

"Are they ... Dumb? I mean ... Of course zey are, but," muttered an old Dame, looking down at the missive in utter confusion. Rolling it up in her hand, she rode down to Ebonwood to show it to @Minuvas. "Te' ISA razed t'village of one of our fellow Gwaithors. It's in Urguan, but ... Still. Can vy go verbally berate 'em? I would, but ... I feel it'd lead to me being banished again."

[Open] Tree's Funky Fresh Art Commissions! Do YOU like art? Do you want some of your character? Sweet! I'm opening my commissions just to provide something for myself to do while I slack off in school. Please give my Terms of Service below a quick read! 1. If you wouldn't show it to yer' meemaw, don't ask me to draw it please! Some (minor) exceptions, but generally common sense. I'm looking at you, Wonder Bread Guy. 2. If a character is too complex, a small fee may be added (i.e. jewelry, lots of accessories, patterned/baggy clothing, etc). 3. A downpayment of 1/3rd the total price must be given once a commission has been confirmed, due to having been scammed (sending the finished product and never paid) multiple times :[ 4. I reserve the right to boot anyone out from the que if they're acting particularly unsavory, but this is only reserved for those who constantly change large details of the commission/spam /w insults/et cetera. If bumped off the que for this reason, there will be no refund of downpayment. 5. There may be times when I'm genuinely too low on time/motivation to continue with a piece, so if I do have to drop your commission slot, your downpayment will be completely refunded! Optionally, I may also take payment in items rather than mina! Examples Chibis Regular Style Queue Form Username: Discord: Character Amt: Race(s): Type of Commission: Other info:

Dame Viktoriya cackles. "Fifth Brigade part two!"

Username: TreeSmoothie Discord: tree#6855 position: Crest Can talk on disc!

A pale-skinned, black-haired errandboy reaches Minuvas with a letter. "Unfortunately, I cannot make it -- however, I put forth my vote to join this conflict, and to side with elvenkind on vanquishing Haelun'or from this realm. If you're in need of any specifications or have further questions presented in the Conclave, send a bird back and I shall cast my vote for those, as well. Good tidings! Your's, Gwaithor of the Syndicate of Ikürnor Okarn, Eldarhim of the Bronze Myriad, et Cetera."

An old, grumpy alchemist snorts as they read the missive. "House Novellen n' House Basrid are already connected. T'ey're all related te' eachother! Fockin' Orenia."

MC Username?: TreeSmoothie RP Name?: Dame Viktoriya I Discord?: tree#6855 Race?: 'Human' Are you a citizen of Ebonwood?: I'm a a Gwaithor, if that counts. Interested in Eldarhim or Blade (Y/N, And Which one): Blade

_________________________________________ A lone figure sat atop a hill within the Orenian countryside, a flask held tight within their grasp. Before them stood a small farmhouse, upon its door, labeled ... "Arthur & Prim's Farmhome". Its noise wrinkled in disgust, and with a great swing, swung the bottle it held toward the roof of the abode. Black flames erupted and smoke began to rise, already eating away at the sodden wood and stone. The animals held in their pens shrieked and cried as the pyre grew and the flora was burnt to naught. As the foundations of that home trembled, it gave way, sending the second floor toppling to the ground and scattering along the wheat & rye. Gusts of ash and soot rained over the hills, blackening the horizon even as the sun beamed down and the trees swayed, wildlife scampering and fleeing such a scene. The perpetrator itself, however, wandered on without a care as it halted again before the crumbled foyer -- and as it knelt down and arched its blade to swing, a pyre of malflame rose and scorched the earth. Demon's ichor wept into the dirt, and though soiled beyond any possible use, remained as some sickly reminder, or warning. Those who came to view the aftermath would find a demonic pentacle shaped in some wicked amalgamation of substances upon the dirt, and infernal's blood mixed into the soil around it. A small shard of burnt wood sat within its center, written upon in charcoal. Though most of it is legible, one might note, however, that the very last line is indecipherable; strangely burning one's eyes as though they'd begun to stare into the sun. _________________________________________ "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, dearest Primrose -- nor ask the sickly Orenians who toil in the same strife as you -- and neither ask the diminished, nor the outcasts of such a vile society. It tolls for thee. It connects us all, and all are connected through it. Your's, Faithfully and Eternally, The Harbinger, Bygone Lord of Yahz'nethdev, Prophet of Embers, Lord of Lords. Razi a ubyz blothr, burz, undere serthekhur."

"All of that ... And it's only fer' 6 years?" one old Dame snorted. "Dumb ISA faechks."

Dame Viktoriya cried herself to sleep that night; for all of her friends from 'back then' -- before Almaris, were now dead.

Dame Viktoriya blinks. "... What? ... Faechk. Hope it isn' Tobias or Avaeramos."

"Awwh. Primrose's kid didn' invite me, bummer," an old, surprisingly, unwrinkled Dame mumbled. She turned to her husband, prodding him in the shoulder with her elbow as she snickered. "All t'ese wedding fliers -- vhen're we hostin' one, Kari? We neeed to." @Mephiedantes

"Firs' I had a husband named Philip who beat me n' cheated on me, then there vas Philip II who vas ... Eugh. Yikes. And now, apparently Philip III is bad. I think Oren should stop naming their children 'Philip', cos' clearly te' name's focking cursed," snorted an ancient Dame Viktoriya.

A long-forgotten child, now turned woman -- Myeasha Kharadeen -- peeks from the damaged newspaper she read, squinting at the proclamation. "They're ... Still around!? ... Perhaps it might be nice to reconnect with m' origins."

An aged Alchemist shits their pants.

devastating @Mephiedantes

Dame Viktoriya stares slack-jawed at the missive. "What?"

The Silver Drake thought The Silver Lubba was married. She squints.

The query is returned, written in some red substance. "god."

[!] A horrid poster sits nailed to the wooden board ahead of you. It covered an older flier of the same theme, but much less . . . Suspicious, and ugly. THERE'S A HOT SINGLE RICH AWESOME (LIVING) WOMAN IN YOUR AREA! Lady Dowager, DAME VIKTORIYA I, ‘the Silver Drake’ Founder of House Tsecsar, Former Captain of the Imperial State Army, Knight of the Most Noble & Most Ancient Order of the Lion, Former Imperial Queen of Arms, Coolest person alive, Also the hottest person alive, And the hottest person dead, And the coolest person dead, But also not dead, ‘Allmother’ of the Eight Precepts, Úlfhéðnar of the Father, Et Cetera DAME VIKTORIYA I is in search of love. Again. If you have a heartbeat, please reply. I’m begging you. NAME: Viktoriya somethingsomething Forgot Last Name AGE: Middle-aged, maybe. I forgot. OCCUPATION: Illegal substances vendor Alchemist HOBBIES include razing heathen (anti-GODAN!) villages, worshipping GODAN, potion-making, taking long walks on beaches, taking short walks in swamps, begging for people to court her through courier pigeons, sleeping, dissection, hanging out in the suspicious alleyways of Providence, sleeping, and potion-making. And dissection. APPEARANCE: [!] A single picture was attached . . . Drawn in some hideous ‘pixel-block’ fashion: CRITERIA: Must be a man. Preferably. Please don’t be a cultist. I’ve had enough cultist husbands, I think. Preferably has a pulse [Optional] Somewhat mentally stable [Optional] That’s it. My standards are low. I’m desperate. WHAT YOU WILL RECEIVE An old young woman with lots to offer. Possibly, a home. Dame Viktoriya tends to swing between homeless, not-homeless, and dwelling in the caves beneath Oren. One free compliment a day. Potions! Did I mention . . . Mina? Should you be interested, send a bird! Please. please. Dame Viktoriya.