LordCrowe

The Story Of Hyspia A Reflection On The War Of Crown And Crozier My name is Maximiano Raimundo, and I am Hyspian. In my opinion it really shouldn’t fall on me to tell the story of my beloved Hyspia, but the libraries are gone, the schools destroyed alongside Nueva Vida itself, and our people banished from the shore of the Rio de Zafiros. But if it must be me, in hindsight, perhaps I am the best there is left. I was a man low ranked in three worlds. As part of the military, I served loyally as a Gaucho, a Corporal in the common parlance, trusted with the basics and to not screw up but hardly a high ranking officer. As a noble, I was granted the rank of Hidalgo, barely Gentry if that, but still just enough to get access to the information privileged to the halls of Hyspian power. And of course as a common man I was a street rat, even as my fortunes improved I never moved out of my quaint little farmhouse just outside the city of Nueva Vida. So let me tell you the story of the fall of Hyspia, not as a preacher or propagandist, not as a powerful man trying to lie to you to regain power or a country bumpkin unknowing of the ways of the world. but as someone who has walked in the same shoes as all Hyspians, and can tell you firsthand what happened. So please, turn the page, and let allow me to begin. [[FWBN: Hello, LordCrowe here, if you see one of these, FWBN stands for “Fourth Wall Breaking Note”]] Prelude to War: The Raids And The Treaty Its fairly common knowledge by now that before the War of Crown and Crozier, Hyspia had a treaty of peace and nonaggression with the orcs of Krugistan, and as the High Pontiff was so quick to point out, one that was broken. But what so many seemed eager to forget, as truth always is the first to die in war, is why the Treaty of the Sands existed in the first place. For all that the orcs like to say that they had their reasons, the fact of the matter was that their reasons are not what the common Hyspian saw. What they saw were the raids, senseless and brutal. Again and again, the orcs would find their way into the city, and again and again their words would be the same; ‘The Desert Belongs Only To The Orcs!’ was their cry. They didn’t tell us their ‘reasons’, they just came in and terrorized us. I remember well a day when the orcs broke in while most of the army was away on training exercises [[FWBN: The army was all offline and asleep, as was our NL and leadership]]. So with the exception of myself and one other guard, the city was defenseless. I was forced to watch, helpless on the walls without a bow at the time, as my comrade was beaten senseless. I could not fight six orcs alone, so I could only watch in horror as they rounded up people into the city square, and demanded to see the Sovereign of Hyspia or they would start slaughtering the defenceless civilians. The Sovereign too was away, out of contact, but the orcs did not care. It is a common refrain by the orcs I find, that we ‘avoided them’ or that we ‘refused contact’, but I can tell you now, they never set appointments, they never sent a petitioner when court was in session, they only ever rode up to our gate and demanded to see our leadership, armed to the teeth. Would you trust in the safety of your leadership in such circumstances? The orcs did finally seem to understand that the Sovereign was not coming, after a little more than an hour by the saint’s reckoning parading through the streets of Nueva Vida and inspiring fear and terror. But once again I could only watch as they weren’t satisfied with just leaving, and instead opted to mutilate every captured citizen with daggers before they left, hooting and hollering, and declaring they would be back. When a ceasefire in this brushfire war finally came, when the treaty was negotiated, the Orcs tried to paint us as the aggressors. But when, I must ask, did Hyspians ride into Krugistan attacking people? When did we ever raid them with a purpose not explicitly to rescue those they had stolen from us? Despite this, the treaty was finally signed, and it was almost all concessions on our part in favour of the Orcs. There was an undercurrent of outrage, but honestly the general consensus of Hyspia was relief, we could finally fish the Rio de Zafiros without constantly looking over our shoulders for an orc raiding party, a sum of Mina and having to be more careful when traveling through the desert was a cheap price to pay for peace of mind. Had history been different, this would have been the start of a Hyspian golden age of culture and prosperity. But one thing I’d like to make clear, and what you should remember going forward, is that we did not trust the Orcs or the treaty to stop them. For years the Orcs had raided us with impunity, and only when the united forces of canondom threatened to make it stop did the orcs deign to come to a meeting they did not try to force at sword point. Prelude to War: The Fustercluck of Alliances Hyspia joined the War of Crown and Crozier on Haense’s side ultimately, but most people do not seem to know why. Oh it is said that we were aggressors, reneging on our deal with the Orcs and joining Haense in rebellion against the church because… canondom was the guarantor of the deal I guess? Well let me tell you what really happened. At first, the Hyspian plan for the War of Crown and Crozier, as people began forming alliances against each other, was to stay out of it. We had our peace with the orcs, and it was largely seen as not our fight. But Haense and the Church both had different ideas, both pressured us to join their side in what was rapidly shaping up to be a continent wide war. So the new plan was to meet with both parties and either sort out our neutrality or at least keep our involvement limited. Out of respect for previous relations the Queen of Hyspia would meet with Haense, meanwhile Leomonte, one of the highest ranked men in the Hyspian court and the commander of our military, would meet with the Church. But then it all went wrong in a single saint’s day. First, Xiomara abdicated suddenly in favour of the barely twenty year old Amarantha, whether out of stress or just in need of a vacation, the fact remains that Xiomara abandoned us at the time when we needed her most, leaving an unready and naive queen to take her place at the meeting. Secondly, the supposed meeting to discuss with Haense turned out to be the grand signing of the Horenic Covenant, we were not informed of this, it was a complete surprise. Even worse, Amarantha, perhaps pressured by her fellow monarchs, acted without the approval of her council and suddenly promised her support on the spot. Leomonte tried to salvage the situation, to pull back from this sudden and unwelcome change in strategy, but the Church closed negotiations when they heard of Amarantha’s presence and the Covenant meeting, and sent a raiding party. Thirdly, at the same time, Gromash arrived at our gates to negotiate, supposedly to ensure the Treaty of the Sands would hold despite the growing war. Like always, it was a meeting not requested politely in the palace, but threatened at sword point to demand that Amarantha come out and meet him outside the city. Despite this, we tried to be civil in a time when things were falling apart, we invited Gromash to enter the city with his guards to meet with Amarantha, but Gromash refused, and he also refused to reschedule. He wanted it his way or not at all, not a negotiation between equals but a demand from a bully. Before that could be sorted out, the raiding party from the Church arrived, having taken our presence at the Horenic Covenant meeting as wholehearted support for Haense. In the confusion, it was assumed that the Orcs and the church were in cahoots, that Gromash had planned this from the start. I have told you before that we did not trust the Orcs, that we feared they would find some excuse to terrorize us once more. This moment was the culmination of our fears, so we defended ourselves, repelling both greenskin and paladin alike from the walls of Nueva Vida. What happened after is well known, but the wiles of propaganda have twisted what we saw as the execution of a terrorist into the ‘noble death’ of Gromash, the story turning him into some kind of martyr. Maybe he was more honorable than most of his kind, maybe he does deserve the respect he gets [[FWBN: You’re awesome Narthok, I’m trying to convey that despite everything, please forgive me]], but to us he was the warlord that haunted our nightmares, we just wanted him gone, and so he was. The War: Blood on the Dunes We did not want this war, the general attitude in Hyspia was that we had been dragged into a fight that was not ours, and that the Orcs had taken advantage of the situation to press what they truly wanted, the thing they shouted at us on every raid; that the whole of the desert was for the orcs alone, and that Hyspia must be destroyed. Worse, we found ourselves on opposing sides against Numendil. While Haense was liked due to our shared history, Hyspia and Numendil saw each other as brothers. There were long-lasting friendships between almost every noble and knightly family in both of our nations, including King Julian himself, and multiple times during the war our patrols crossed paths and pretended not to see eachother; we did not want to fight. I was captured during the war once, and the Lector-Cardinal himself told me to bring a message to Amarantha, and then released me unharmed. The message was that he was willing to accept Hyspia’s independent surrender any time, that he would not hold it against us, that he understood we were pressured by Haense. I delivered the message, and yet we fought to the end, and the reason was simple; the Lector-Cardinal did not promise to stop the Orcs. He couldn’t without risking his alliance with the Orcs, obviously, so I don’t blame him for it, but without that guarantee, any surrender was a non-starter [[FWBN: My guy, you know how IRL Ukraine won’t stop the war without security guarantees? You pulled the same shit on us, of course we didn’t surrender!]]. In the battles around Petra, there was a certain sense of Chivalry to it all. The church offered to take in any who would defect, constantly offering those it captured a way out, for example. This was not the case on the desert front. Day after day, the orcs stepped up their raids. Anyone exiting the city walls was kidnapped on the spot. The traditional festivals of our people, had to be held deep within the city for our protection. The orcs raided weddings, they raided coming of age ceremonies, they raided funerals, nothing was sacred to them. But worst of all was their new method of terrorizing us, the Orcs repeatedly kidnapped our children and tortured them to death. Sometimes they tried to lure us out with a demand to fight or a ransom, and sometimes we would just find multiple bodies of children below the age of ten staked outside our gates in the morning. This is what I think nobody seems to understand, for us this was an extinction war, a genocide of Hyspians. As far as we were concerned, either we stopped the Orcs in this war, or we were all going to die. War’s End: Sudden Betrayal and Conclusion When Haense suddenly surrendered, we felt betrayed. It was Haense that tricked us into this war, Haense that gave the Orcs the opening they needed. But it was fine because we assumed they would fight alongside us until the end. Instead, the moment it looked like they were even slightly losing, the cowards abandoned us! Our fighting force was small, without Haense, we were defenceless, and so we were forced out of the war. We were forced to give up everything. Our royals and nobles? Gone Our city? Razed Our treasury? Looted Our people? Cast to the winds Our protectors? Forcefully disbanded What remains of our people now scratch out a living in a refugee camp. We are not allowed walls, we are not even allowed to defend ourselves. The flame of Hyspia is a guttering spark that one bad day could snuff out forever. And yet the Orcs still want reparations? From what, the scraps of our tents? [[FWBM: Ya’ll basically Treaty of Versailles’d us]] The War of Crown and Crozier should not have involved Hyspia, it should not have involved the Orcs. We were tricked, slandered, and then destroyed without mercy at the whims of greenskin raiders for the ambitions of idiots on both sides of the war. If nothing else, believe this: the people of Hyspia never asked for this. Maybe our nobility is to blame, but they are gone, or maybe our royals, but they are gone. Only the people remain, desperately trying to survive just one more day. Haven’t we suffered enough already?

Now admittedly I haven't been playing CA's for that long in the grand scheme of things, especially compared to some of the people here, so feel free to take what I say with a grain of salt. Truth is, people DON'T just look at the PK Clause when deciding to play a CA, they look at the entire CA and weigh the risks. Sometimes those risks are seem only borderline acceptable, like for example when I ascended my ghoul I had serious reservations about going Pale Knight instead of Darkstalker because Pale Knight's could be effectively force PK'd and Darkstalkers couldn't, but I eventually went Pale Knight after reassurances from the rest of my group. It is absolutely within people's right to complain about an unfair mechanic even after they got the CA, just because I accepted the risks in return for getting all the cool stuff doesn't mean I don't have opinions about those risks, this isn't politics, don't gatekeep people based on if they voted or not or whatever. Frankly, any system that allows someone else to force PK you without ever actually seeing your character face to face is a bad system.

A certain Pale Knight, upon learning of this, tapped his stony chin with one hand and mused aloud "Wait, so you're telling me I don't have to worry about getting melted by voidal flame when I hunt around Petra?" The darkspawn let out a chuckle "As ever, the canonists are idiots"

Caelum headed for the gates of the city of Numendil, letter clutched in hand. It was a message from a kindly hobbit, the response of an old acquaintance, Avartagh. 'Come visit me at the Temple in Numendil around that time' it read, a simple response to a previous letter sent to request a meeting 'We can talk then'. The 250cm tall figure (around 8'2" if you're American), clad in a concealing white robe, trudged into the gatehouse. He had been ready to provide his name, to try and bluff his way through, but there was no need, for the gatehouse was empty, the gate wide open. In a way the figure was grateful for the reprieve, wringing out some water from his constantly damp robes in a nearby alley, a consequence of the man's true nature. It had been a long time since he had gone by that name, Caelum Clodovicus, and a long time since he had met Avartagh. As he slowly stomped towards the Temple of Numendil, he reminisced. It had been a nice day, and the teenaged Caelum was rather lost. He was trying to get to Norland you see, wanting to see with his own eyes the great tree. Wandering the roads, finding the signage confusing, he eventually stumbled upon a little hobbit on a humble farm on a lonely hill near Grense. Avartagh, as he introduced himself, was a silly and fun loving sort, calling Caelum "Lemon Head!" after the colour of his hair, and promised to provide young Caelum with directions if he would play a game of riddles first. Oh the riddles confused and annoyed Caelum, but it was all in good fun, and despite his rather terrible performance Avartagh was still nice enough to aid his journey, even foisting upon the young teen a small feast's worth of baked goods! Caelum soon found himself at the temple in question, and sure enough, there was Avartagh, a monk it seemed. The man chuckled to himself, he had not known Avartagh to be in a holy profession, but he found it amusingly fitting. "Avartagh" he spoke to the now comparatively much smaller halfling "it had been a long time". Concealed in white robes and so much taller than last they had met, Avartagh was understandably confused "Eh?" the hobbit had replied with a lofted brow "Is that Caelum? You certainly don't look like Caelum!". But Caelum just responded with a chuckle "The lemonhaired one himself, yes", With introductions over, Avartagh told his old acquaintance "We can talk after the wedding, come watch!". For indeed, there was a wedding that day, with Avartagh officiating. The man, Caelum, strode into the temple with the other guests and politely stood in the corner as the ceremony began, chuckling along as Avartagh added his usual goofy flair to the proceedings. While he waited, the man reminisced once more, of the day temples like these became far less welcoming to one such as him. Shortly after exiting Norland, having seen the great tree and been awed by it, Caelum began to explore, foolishly wandering a lot further from the roads than was strictly recommended. He'd rather not think of the details, of the day he was dragged into the darkness, tricked by a darkstalker, kidnapped, ritually murdered... and then risen again. He was given a new name, a cruel name, Shrike. As a ghoul his mind was twisted, his memories hazy. Memories of a hobbit he could no longer recognize dominated his thoughts, the little folk's jokes seemed like mocking jeers, and he began to hate. Shrike hated hobbits, he hated lemons, he hated the living, he hates how his memories were shattered and confused, he hated himself. So he threw himself into his work, playing the part of the loyal minion, dying and rising again and again just to feel something. He earned acclaim from his dark masters, he struck the final blow upon a Wyvern, for which he earned a new name, Drakorst'deztrok or 'the wyvern slayer'. He led the charge against the secret druidic stronghold of The Wellsrping and he defended during the last siege of Lumbridge, among many other feats. Until eventually, he his earned ascension... After officiating the wedding, Avartagh led Caelum into the confession booth. "Speak freely" Avartagh told Caelum "The seal of confession binds here" and so Caelum began his tale. "I suppose I should say it begins with the story of a man... and a monster" the white robed figure began, before diving into the explanation proper "Shortly after we parted during our last meeting, I finished by business in Norland and went exploring about. I... strayed a bit further from the road than was strictly safe." he let out a bemused chuckle "I was still a young farmboy, I was rather foolish. I was tricked by what I assumed to be a wandering knight, only they were no holy warrior, it was a darkstalker. They dragged me back to their master and... well I won't speak of the specifics, I won't sully this holy place with such words." "I died there, and then I rose again." Caelum paused, before asking "What do you know, Avartagh, of ghouls? Not the physical elements, the aurum weakness and the skull crushing... but their mentality?". To this Avartagh asked "Are you a ghoul?" to which Caelum could only respond "Not anymore..." plunging him into more memories. To ascend, Caelum's faith in his new cause was tested, and it was not found lacking. Soon enough, his twisted soul was freed from the rotting bones of his former body, sealed instead into a tomb of rock, as Caelum arose once again... as an Eidola, a Pale Knight. And in that moment he was free. His memories reordered, his loyalty no longer magically enforced. But as any scholar of the dark might tell you, Eidola possess a madness all of their own, and Caelum's manifested as an OBSESSION. As a boy he had wanted companionship, loyalty. As a ghoul he had thrown himself into his work, his loyalty. And now as he realized the full extent of how he had been violated, the twisted soul fell back on the one thing he knew, LOYALTY. Caelum collected himself, before continuing, telling Artagh of how he had been turned first into a ghoul, then into the Eidola he revealed himself to be, and Caelum spoke of the last virtue he held dear, of loyalty. "To what?" Avartagh asked him, to which Caelum responded "To the Black Sun... In truth, I know my soul is damned, the creator has long since turned away from me, but I suppose before I can move on I need... closure." Caelum then handed Avartagh a simple sling, braided from familar, bright yellow hair. "I made this... shortly after my first death, it's all that remains of my old self." Caelum explained "So I would ask a favour of you if I may, Avartagh" "Speak it! I will see if it can be done. Though I have counsel I must give you afterwards." Avartagh agreed, so Caelum made his final request "I would entrust you with the sling...burn it in holy fire, or preserve its memory, I care not" he spoke gravely "But it is all that remains of Caelum, it is the gravestone of who I was, so I ask you treat it as such." Avartagh agreed... he also counseled that Caelum kill himself of course, as a last chance to save his blackened soul, but that was to be expected of a man of the cloth. Avartagh was a good friend, it was a shame to lose him... but Caelum was dead, his last tie to the world removed. All that remained was the ever loyal Knight of the Pale.

An idea I've long toyed with is that Canonism really needs a catholicism vs protestantism style split, with the protestants being much less beholden to secular power (as in real life) and also notably removing all the fantasy racism. Lets be blunt, some of the draw of Canonism for some people is the "funni racism memes", see https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FantasticRacism. And the staff coming down after YEARS of this being normal and saying Canonists can't be racist anymore would probably cause an uproar. But a Protestant/Catholic schism would allow the people who actually have fun with that sort of thing to do their own thing, while retaining the medieval "the church is a key part of the state" thing for the rest of us humans. It works WITH the playerbase to affect change in a way that make sense. Also, y'know, it would provide an ACTUALLY GOOD REASON for the High Pontiff to be mad and have wars of religion start. Unfortunately, the impetus doesn't seem to be there, so unless the ST are willing to organize some sort of political world event out of it, any attempt at starting such a movement would be a small group that gets instantly crushed for heresy...

Maximiano glares at the missive, crumpling it in his hand as he raises his fist dramatically to the sky and shouts "DAMN YOU PONTIFF!! FIRST THE ORC WAR I WORKED SO HARD TO STOP IS STARTED AGAIN, AND NOW I CAN'T EVEN TRADE STOCKS BECAUSE ITS RUN BY THOSE VERY SAME ORCS?! GAH!"

A certain ghoul followed in the wake of his master, crossbow slung over his shoulder. He spared a glance behind him, at the crater that became of Lumbridge, and reminisced on the battle that occurred. His part wasn't a glorious charge for the black sun, but to direct arbalest fire from the battlements. He had done well, all things considered, but still the ghoul shook his head, it wasn't enough in the end. Drakorst'deztrok was getting real tired of running... and if his master was right, this wasn't the end.

A certain darkspawn watched the crazed messenger run off, just glad his disguise wasn't seen through. When he looked at the missive however, the ghoul snorted. "Yea, I'm going to call them Haensetii from now on, just to piss 'em off" he decided.

A certain ghoul shook his head as he reminisced on the skirmish in the caves. "Idiots, they charged in with no plan and thought abusing potions would carry the day..." letting out a sigh, the spook looked down at an old momento as he finished the thought "I used to be a bloody farm boy, and even I could come up with a more decent plan, do adventurer's just not hold planning meetings beforehand anymore?"

In this case it was less a matter of lacking vocabulary as it was lacking space. I'm pretty sure Redlines are supposed to be concise, and this one already looks almost like a paragraph as it is, so I didn't want to add another full sentence of describing things on top of that.

Old Redline [From Physical Description Redlines]: ➣ Ghoul are not affected by mortal diseases or poison. They do not require breathing, eating, or sleep. However, unlike darkstalkers who can wander underwater, a Ghoul is unable to do so for a long time. Ghoul are only able to stay underwater for (10) emotes before their bones start drifting away, leading to their death. Changed Redline: ➣ Ghoul are not affected by mortal diseases or poison. They do not require breathing, eating, or sleep. However, unlike darkstalkers who can wander underwater freely, a Ghoul has trouble doing so. Ghouls submerged in water are weakened, similar to Voidal Weakness, while underwater and for two (2) emotes after exiting the water. Underwater is defined as needing to swim to move, if your feet touch the ground and your head is above water it doesn't count. Reasoning: It was always weird to me that basically every other type of undead could replicate that one scene from Curse of the Black Pearl (you know the one), but ghouls specifically couldn't. It felt like someone ran out of weakness ideas and started throwing things at a wall until it stuck, especially with the ridiculous 10 emote count and no narrative time addition. Still, a discussion with my friend @TheOnlyTubbrought up some reasonable points about some sort of water weakness making sense, which turned into this compromise of a rewrite.

Not sure if you're still doing Figura stuff by now, but if you are message me via discord: lordcrowe

Maximiano grinned smugly as he spotted the missive "All in a day's work, and I even got a cool scar out of it to woo the senorita's!"

Drakorst'deztrok (The Farm Boy Lost To Darkness) Maximiano Raimundo (Hyspian Scoundrel With A Heart Of Gold... Because He Stole It)

A dark armoured rider passes through the town of Grense, and noting the rumors, mutters "Huh, something to keep an eye on... could be useful."