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Lord of Crocodiles, The Great Protector, Enforcer of the Natural Order Of the many great beasts that roam the lands, sands, and waters of the world, an ancient legacy of strength is brought forth through one of the most powerful of the world's creatures, the mighty Crocodile. This ancient and stalwart watcher of the rivers lays a swift and decisive judgment upon any who dare disrespect it, safe guarding their waters and territory from all who seek to trespass. It is this vigilance, this power, this endurance, that the great Lord Dorabek embodies, and it is these traits which he demands from those who follow his creed. But it is not just physical strength one must muster to follow the will of the Lord of Crocodiles, but a great spiritual and emotional strength as well, for the strength of a people rests not just in their bodies, but in their morale, and their very souls. To this, those who wish to honor The Great Protector must be a foundational anchor for the communities to which they oversee, a beacon of strength whom others may lean on, who keeps strong in the face of darkness. Overlooking the vast Marshes of old, a new temple rose to overlook a domain once lost. A shining beacon, a revival of power, one to honor the mighty Lord Dorabek. A grand and glistening structure marks a new era, and inside, a ritual took place to begin the great revival. Below the great inner chamber, a seating area housed two, Arvel Ahmoskhnum Tou, a younger, smaller dark elf who had constructed this monument to the God of Strength, and the dwarven high priest of Te-uth, Nebkhet-Sha. It was here that the high priest prepared a ritual for Ahmoskhnum, one to honor a God who's priesthood had nearly died out in these lands. The two entered with a determined resolve, Ahmoskhnum in particular had done much to honor Lord Dorabek, and if he was to respect the Lord of Crocodiles, he couldn't show any weakness in his conviction here. Ancient words were preached, sacrifices were offered, but it was this conviction to which Lord Dorabek truly cared for, and that would send the scholar and the protector to be into the void, as they traversed to the lands of the Gods, and the Domain of the Natural order. To meet with the Great Protector, however, was not a rushed endeavor, for his domain was vast and demanding, not just any could traverse the dangers that lie in wait. But the dwed and elf persisted, for their conviction in mind and spirit would match their resilience and their strength. Entering the domain of the Lord of Crocodiles saw the two placed in a vast valley oasis, one filled to the brim with much of what called the world home. But it was the Dorabekin, the crocodile, which reigned supreme, basking in the glory of the sun across the vast oasis. To approach the waters of the watchful without respect would be foolish, as hundreds of eyes now turned their gaze towards the unfamiliar pair, testing their resolve. But neither faltered. While the dwarf had been the one to initiate the ritual, Ahmoskhnum would be their guide from now on, not flinching to the test of resolve. He would not disrespect the Dorabekin, for it was they who were protecting their own waters, but he would not be dismayed from his course, carefully leading his companion down the banks until they reached an eventual clearing. It was here that a vast sea sprawled out before them, with a jutted stone outcropping rising above it. The blackened rock was not unattended either, as more Crocodile had chosen this place to bask in the sun. For it was here, they now had to test their strength, and reach the very top. The climb to the top was long and arduous, though the pair never lost their resolve. The dwarf was well experienced, having served the Gods for some time now, while the elf was filled with unwavering dedication, to protect those he has grown to care for, and to embody the strength of the God he wished to honor. It was here where their resolve was tested the most, the final leg of the journey, yet if found them unwavering. It would seem the last test before meeting the mighty Dorabek was one which the two Rah'muns were able to match. On reaching the top, Ahmoskhnum was prepared to advise patience, but before he even had the chance, a voice boomed out from behind the two, leading to both to bow. "You are persistent." Dorabek said as he rose from his throne, going to look out over his great oasis, "What drives your conviction? "I come to honor you, my lord." Ahmoskhnum raised his head, to speak with a determined conviction, moving to a kneel instead to maintain respect. "I wish to restore your priesthood, and to protect those for which I have grown to care for." "Long has my will been neglected, and my name near-forgotten. It is a great shame. But I know who you are, and I know of your deeds. I have seen the temple for which you honor my name." "And it is my honor to do so." The elf bowed his head once more. He'd turn to look down at the elf, "You have a strong will, and a heart of bronze. You have done well in my name, and as such, I shall grant you my boons. You shall carry it, but only through great effort shall you keep it." With that, a blinding light would briefly engulf the now chosen of Dorabek, imbuing him with the strength needed to keep his people safe. "Go now, and remember that actions speak louder than words." [Spirit Pact with Dorabek, lesser of Freygoth, 1/3]

I ask that as you read this, you listen to this song along with it! It portrays similar emotions to the post itself. Thank you! +*:ꔫ:*﹤ +*:ꔫ:*﹤ The lesser of Akezo. ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Amaunet is heralded by the medics of Rah’mun civilization as a mighty healer goddess. Her Heka is known to remedy even the most debilitating of injuries and it has even saved the afflicted from the brink of death. Amaunet appears as a woman wearing a long headdress made of reeds and feathers. She sometimes carries a spectre donning an ankh and a vial of healing waters, representing her authority over the gift of life. It is believed that prayers to Amanuet has allowed the Pharaoh to live incredibly long and healthy lives free of disease. Amaunet, as the life-giver, also has a furious wrath against Isfetians who sicken the body with their arts. As such, priests of Amaunet have been known to strike down Isfetians with horrific conditions, such as blindness, extreme delusions, and debilitating sicknesses. What began as a normal day for Panya-ha Luceran, The Prophetess of Amaunet, quickly turned into one of the best days of her life. Wandering the construction sights of the new city, busy designing Amaunet's temple and other various tasks. Comes Atemu-Ta, Pharaoh of Rah'tuma. He catches her walking, quickly brings her to stop in her tracks. "Panya, do you have your offerings ready for Lady Amaunet?" The Pharaoh spoke to her, "We're going to see her?!" She almost trips from how abruptly she stopped. The Pharaoh nods to her, flashing a bright smile. Before his mouth can open, Panya is halfway to her home. She gathers various herbs, and salves, anything she thinks may be a good offering to her. Her room, filled with medical supplies. Since she became a Prophet, her chosen, Panya went out to study in the medical field. Completely self taught. She spent hundreds of mina of supplies, and books. Even stocking the new clinic with these various books. She waits patiently for her Godfather, Nebkhet and Role model, Ahmoskhum to finish visiting Dorabek. Deeply congratulating Ahmo, as this is the person she was to grow with in her journey of becoming a priestess. She returns home once more, rethinking her pick of offerings, anxiety rushes over her. She decides to swap some of them out, and bring her little brother. Mahatoh, or as many may know him of. . 'Bones, Slayer of Draz.' Nebkhet, Atemu-Ta, Mahatoh, and Panya-ha. In the clinic, there is a Sunroom. The light gleamed through the tinted, decorated windows. Displaying patterns along the floor. The four sat in a circle. Panya takes deep breaths as she watches Atemu place down his offerings. She places down her few, looking at Atemu for his take. He offers her an affirmative nod. As Pharaoh begins, though his words are a blur in her mind. She focuses on keeping herself calm before she feels the first tug on her soul. She takes another deep breath, but it is no use. With the second tug, she is startled. Though, it doesn't last very long. Before she knows it, her eyes feel as if they are closed. Finding herself in the darkness, before a light emerges. Though it is not blinding. It is soothing, it fills her with peace of mind. She finds herself walking alongside The Pharaoh, keeping up even though her mind rushes with doubts and fear. She admires the scenery and picks up a tiny critter. "How teenee." Her group is met with two women, almost identical. They offer everyone a warm welcome, but especially Panya. Before she knows it, The 7'0 Goddess emerges from the rainforest as well. She offers Panya a warm smile. "Panya, you have returned." Her voice seems as soothing as a lullaby to her. "Aywa!" Panya speaks. Every doubt and worry leave her mind. She grins as hard as she possibly can. To meet once more, but this time she was not a mere child. No longer the seven year old that was freshly chosen by Amaunet. She stands at 6'2 now. She no longer had the ends of her hair dyed red. Her blonde hair reaching the ground. Her eyes were not longer the blue they were before, but now they were aqua and glowing. No longer the child from before. She held responsibility and ideas beyond that now. "You have grown." Amaunet speaks again. She goes on the greet the others, offering dips of the head and a few sentences to Nebkhet. Panya waits patiently until her name is heard once more. She lifts a hand towards Panya. "Panya, I will offer you my Judgement so that you may protect my domain and our people." Her voice reminds her of every sweet moment that Panya may have ever experienced. It reminds her of the sounds of nature. Her admiration is great, the smile never leaves her face. Before she knows it, Hieroglyphics float towards her, embedding onto her soul. Mahatoh takes a step closer, worriedly. Though, before he may intervene he is teleported backwards. "I promise that I will use your judgement wisely." - "Everything I do will be for the greater good." She bows so deeply that her ponytail flips over her head. Yet before she knows it, a few claps are heard. . Panya awakens, coming to her senses once more. Her head lies on the cold marble floor, she blinks a few times squinting at the sunlight that rushes into her eyes. "YAAAAHOOOOOOOO!" She almost screams, She quickly brings herself up to her feet and punches the air. Yet of course, Atemu-Ta reminds her of Humility. She nods along, her eyes meeting with a few people and congratulations. She is reminded that she is loved, and that people are very proud of her. . . . OOC NOTE: Thank you to @Boknice275 and _Frisket for playing Amaunet for me. Allowing me to have such a fun RP experience. I also wish to thank you for reading the entirety of this post. Perhaps debate making a Rah'tuman if you enjoyed this. Despite what many may think, we are a community of all races. We have Elves, Kha, Goblins, Humans, and Dwarves. Yours truly, +*:ꔫ:*﹤ Your favorite Gyaru :3 Himekaji, Hime, Tsuyome. +*:ꔫ:*﹤

The dawn was a brilliant fiery red. The open sky streaked with the rays of the rising sun over the distant horizon. Clouds vacated their place high above and floated to unknown lands. The dunes of the desert rolled for as far as the eye could see, like waves upon a vast ocean. It was a sight Rakhnar took in as he crested the hill of a dune. The wind blew faintly, kicking up small swirls of sand from the slopes. Not a bird or insect in sight or ear, nor even a rock to break up the monotony of the landscape. The dwarf’s shoulder sagged low as he held onto his walking stick. He’s long lost count of the dunes he’d crested. He’d even lost count of the days he’d been wandering the deserts. Had it been weeks? Months? Years? His brilliant red beard, now nearly brown and gritty with sand, told him only one thing: it had been a long time. ‘You’re mind isn’t right.’ Rakhnar had been told, ‘Wisdom and Peace are to be found in the desert.’ The desert was a holy place, the favored land of the Gods, and the rightful home of the Rah’mun. It was here Ka’tau dwelled, and it was wisdom and peace Rakhnar sought more than anything. But now, he was hopeless. Foolishly wandering from the lands he knew into the scorching seas, he’d long ago lost his way back to civilization. His waterskin was dry, and his bread had gone bad. So, he drifted. Cresting dune after empty dune in some vain attempt to find a road, or even just a cacti to quench his thirst. So, it was now as he watched Ra’s sun rise that he slumped down. His cracked lips trembled in thirst, and he cried out with a parched, scratchy breath, “Ka’tau, hear me!” He cried, “I’ve been a fool! In search of yer’ wisdom, I’ve found only my death! Save my wretched soul!” Rakhnar was answered only with the faint howl of wind, and cupping his face with his hands he wept. But, his sand infested hair whipped suddenly, his loose toga fluttering behind him, and he looked up from wet hands. What was at first a sudden gust of hot air, suddenly burst forth a whirlwind. Sand clouded his vision, and the scorching winds burned his lungs to breath. Rakhnar raised his hands in an effort to shield his face, and the sands cut his bare flesh as the light of the sun became clouded over by this sandstorm. “Dare not cower before me, Priest.” A voice boomed, carried in the roaring winds. “Stand, or my storm shall consume you.” Rakhnar instinctively opened his eyes, for he had not heard a voice in far too long. The sands parted, as if he now stood in the eye of the storm, and his jaw dropped at the sight before him: it was a tall man, with the head of a magnificent lion. A golden toga was wrapped about him, with assortments of jewelry hanging from his form. In his hand he held a long spear, most of his form clouded by the sands. Rakhnar weakly got to his feet, hunger and thirst weighing him down, his stick barely holding him up, “W-who are you?” The figure grunted, his fine mane fluttering in the winds, “I am disappointed to hear a Priest of Te’uth to not know my name. But, I expected no less.” He paused, “I am Shab, Tempest of the Deserts, Lord of the Scorched and Chilling Sands, The Bringer of Sandstorms, The Fire of Ra, The Settler of Debts, The Bringer of Vengeance.” Shab announced, tapping his spear into the sand. “The desert is still cold from the night, but shall soon be hot in the day. I am this transition made manifest.” Rakhnar didn’t know what to say. He’d read the Books of the Gods many times, and never heard of this god before, “What do you want?” He croaked out from a scorched throat. “The People of Ka’tau have suffered much at many hands. Orcs, Dragons, Demons, Angel-Worshippers, and Liches.” Shab boomed, “So many wrongs have yet to be made right. So many misdeeds have gone unpunished. Countless beings of Isfet that assault the Chosen of the Sands from dawn until dusk. It is unacceptable.” Shab didn’t move, or at least he didn’t physically, but he appeared closer now to the dwarf, “The desert burns with anger at these slights. It has been watered with the blood of Rah’mun, and it seeks vengeance for this wretched act.” He pointed his spear at the dwed, “You shall see its cry answered.” Rakhnar recoiled at the command. The dwarf had fought many battles, had taken much life, and as such was no stranger to violence. But, he felt himself level-headed, he always sought a peaceful solution first, and never instigated violence if he could help it. Perhaps sensing his uncertainty, Shab growled, “You have witnessed first-hand the pain and terror the enemies of Ka’tau have wrought upon your brothers and sisters. Yet, you hesitate to accept my decree? You know what must be done. When the words of Te’uth and Hesthor fail, the action of the Protectors must be done.” He tapped his spear again. “The quill is only as mighty as the sword.” Rakhnar muttered with a nod. The words of a man meant nothing, if he wasn’t willing to fight for it. “I shall right the wrongs done upon us. I shall avenge every slight, every drop of blood...” He felt the words spill forth. As if a wrathful corner of his soul, long buried, had suddenly been unbarred and allowed free reign. Shab nodded, “Then accept my boon, and walk this world as my warrior priest.” He raised his spear high, “I shall guide you through my dunes, and save you from a pitiful death here. So that your khopesh may rain the blood of our enemies.” There was a violent crash of air upon the dwarf. It felt beyond hot, as if he’d just been sprayed with molten iron. Then, not a second later, he was chilled to the bone, as if his very soul was iced over. Rakhnar’s eyes clinched, his teeth chattered, and his hands reached out for relief. “You shall command my tempests. Your words shall burn the souls of the unjust, and chill them to their core. From your tongue shall whirlwinds howl and sandstorms cloud out the skies. They shall all know my name.” Then, it was all over. The feeling of scorching fire and chilling lashes upon him ceased. The sand settled, the skies became clear, and the winds slowly calmed. “Vengeance takes their damned souls.” Shab echoed upon the distant winds. Rakhnar opened his eyes, and gazed about. He felt something…strange within him. A fire. A purpose. Newfound. He stood up, his hunger and thirst forgotten, and breathed in the hot air of the desert, now a comfort as he watched the sun rise once more. “So it shall.” Rakhnar nodded. He took notice of a distant cloud of sand, a twister that ran across the dunes, and something within his soul urged him to head there. “The quill is only as mighty as the sword.” He repeated, taking his way down the slope of the dune. There had been wisdom to be found after all. [Spirit Pact with Shab, lesser of Urin, 2/3]

The Valley of Jagged Rocks “Ascend to the highest peak and you will seal our pact,” Angath said to himself as he stared at the peak of the valley from the bottom of the basin. The overcast up above dim the sun’s shining rays and an aura of gloom hung over the valley. The valley of jagged rocks seemed like an overestimation at first glance, but underneath all the trees and the bushes is not meant for the faint of heart. The orc exhaled sharply before beginning his trek to the peak when suddenly a familiar voice begins to speak to him. “You.” “I know you. I know who you are and what you are.” The voice whispered into the ear of Angath as he scaled the mountainous walls of the valley. The skies grew darker. The scent of rain filled the air. “It should have been you. It's all your fault.” The greenskin continued to climb as his thoughts clouded and another barrage of insults assaulted him.“They would be here if it weren’t for you. You failed them when they needed you most.” These words he has heard hundreds of times already, but every time it still cuts him deep inside. The sky rumbled in the distance as gusts of wind forced the trees to dance to their song. The light rain suddenly turned to a downpour. Angath struggled, but he finally was able to see the bottom of the basin from the peak. He fell to his knees, closed his eyes, and attempted to contact the spirit, Lluvia. In return there was no response, except the same taunting voice, “What makes you think you could have ever endured the storm?” Overwhelmed with exhaustion, guilt, and doubt, the orc fell back and opened his eyes, turning his gaze to the clouds as they shifted in the sky. The raindrops falling upon his face gently washing away his sweat and tears. As Angath watched the lightning flicker behind the dark clouds, a comforting voice echoed. “Through my fury, you found calm. My clouded skies granted you clarity. Now let my tears shower you and heal your heavy heart.”

The Grand Archivist, Keeper of the Greatest Wisdom, The First Magician Silence filled the library. Candlelight flickered, casting shadows upon the bookshelves and pillars. The tables were littered with scrolls and tomes, quills and inkwells, and parchments ready to receive fresh text. But, all this was deemed appropriate, for Te’uth, Lord of Knowledge, valued such things. It was here, in his great library, that Rakhnar prayed. Down on his knees, his arms wrapped around him, head bowed low, the dwarf muttered words of praise. He knelt at the foot of a grand statue, carved of blackstone and adorned with ornaments of silver and gold, encrusted with opals. The circle of candles which Rakhnar prayed within made his robe and auburn hair nearly glow in their light, its warm hues lighting the dark face of the statue. “Lord Te’uth, Knower of All Things, Keeper of the Greatest Wisdom. I give ye’ praise fer’ your works, told and untold.” He lowered himself, his nose nearly touching the ground, before rising again, head low still, “It is your will that fuels me, drives me to a path of knowledge an’ understanding.” Again, he lowered himself, “Praise be! Praise!” His words were muffled by the ground and his beard. But, when he rose, a voice called back to him, distant and almost shrill, “Rakhnar, Son of Urguan, now Son of Ka'tau, rise.” It was a voice the dwarf recognized well, and his eyes widened as his ears were touched by his words. Rakhnar looked up, and the statue glowed a vibrant sheen of golden yellow, “You have done well in my name.” The jade eyes upon its visage flickering with every word spoken by the God. Rakhnar was quick to bow deeply again, “I have only done my duty, oh Lord of Wisdom.” He said humbly. “You’ve built for me a grand library. One you have filled with great pieces of knowledge. You have spread my wisdom to those who would hear it, and have built for me the foundations of a temple and loyal priesthood.” The voice stated with little emotion, “You have served me well, for this, you shall be rewarded.” The sheen of gold surrounding the statue shot out like a tendril and latched onto the dwarf’s forehead. Rakhnar felt his head recoil as his mind was pierced by Te’uth’s power. He wanted to cry out in shock, but simply couldn’t, his jaw locked. “You shall wield my influence. You shall wipe clean the minds of my enemies. You shall separate the lies of Ibless from my Pure Truth. You shall empty the minds of those who would oppose Ka’tau.” The voice boomed in a screeching pitch. Rakhnar could only nod as his mind was filled with the knowledge of Heka and the powers of the Great Keeper. His eyes widened, unblinking, “Yes, Lord Te’uth.” Was all he could muster. “As my Nehemtempi Netjer, my High Priest, I shall grant you one more boon.” The voice seemed closer, as if the God was leaning in, “A Volume of my Great Book.” Te’uth paused, “One of Thousands, but this one will be vital to your service. Its location I have long kept secret until a Netjer worthy of its power showed themselves. Find it. And with it, wipe clean this world of Isfet.” With that, the gold light faded, and Rakhnar gasped for breath as the room fell silent and cold once again. He held his head with one hand, and blinked. The knowledge Te’uth granted was all there, as if he’d known it his whole life. His emerald eyes gazed back up to the statue, and he nodded with a bow. “Thy will be done.” [Spirit Pact with Te'uth, lesser of Theruz, 1/3]

Dasul- The Eternal Flame of Purity The white flame without ash. The cold waters in the pure land of snow, Dasul slumbered. Reawakened by a devote Uruk to cleanse the land for the safety of the Descendants. Their name will return to the mortal coil. The lands will be cleansed! In the Realm of Spirits, the white pure arctic fields are free from the gripping darkness. The Orcess and her teacher walk through the snow. The Orcess adorned in white fur robes, resisting the bitter bite of the cold on her feet. The animals frolic through the snow, enjoying the peace of the fallen snow as they approach trees, walking through to a pond untouched by the frozen touch of the lands. As they approached, form began to manifest. A white flaming spirit now presents itself before them. A slumber that lasted ages, the Daughter of Krug being the last to speak the name, of Dasul, the Eternal Flame of Purity, the white flame without ash, the cleansing will of Scorthuz. Reawakened to a broken promise that was made in ages past, the flame reignited in dominance. The Orcess raises her hands to the Spirit, claiming that her path is to cleanse the lands and see the world free from the Darkness. An accord was quickly struck, both agreeing to terms. Dasul's name be brought back from the Spirit Realm, a Shrine in their honor to cleanse the lands of the living. To sacrifice Darkspawn at their altar and to gain followers under their name. Only when these conditions are met, will The Eternal Flame offer it's will and strength to the Orcess.

The Treaty of the Wildflower Issued: Year 21st of Snow's Maiden, SA 168 Article I: Non-Aggression Pact This non-aggression pact is entered into by the Kingdom of Vikela and the Kingdom of Balian, hereafter referred to as "the Parties," to promote peace, stability, and mutual respect between their respective realms. Article II: Declaration of Peace I. The Parties hereby declare their commitment to maintaining peaceful relations with each other. II. They pledge not to engage in any acts of aggression, hostility, or military conflict against one another, whether directly or indirectly. This pledge includes, but is not limited to, offering financial or trade assistance to an opposing nation and military aid against the other party in this treaty. Article III: Sovereignty and Territorial Integrity I. The Parties affirm the sovereignty and territorial integrity of each other. II. They agree to respect their respective kingdoms' borders and boundaries and refrain from any actions that may infringe upon them. Article IV: Diplomatic Relations I. The Parties agree to establish and maintain diplomatic channels for communication and dialogue. II. They will endeavor to resolve any dispute or disagreement through peaceful means, such as negotiation, mediation, or arbitration. Article V: Duration I. Both parties agree to a fifteen-year duration for this pact. In case of a breach of the non-aggression terms, the current Sovereigns will consult one another immediately before any further action is taken. Signed, HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Sybille I, by the Grace of GOD, Queen of Balian, Princess of Providence, Duchess of Helena and Lorraine, Countess of Pompourelia, Viscountess of Eflen and Anatis, Baroness of Renzfeld, Brucca, Valens, Malenos and Ciavola, Lady of Portoregne, Atrus and Monterosa, Warden of La Costa Rubinissima, Protector of the Heartlanders and the South, etcetera SOVRÈN MAJESTÉ, Reine Medea Amaranta Viola De Astrea, The Queen of Vikela, La Violetta

Year 167 of the Second Era 07/02/2024 ISSUED BY: THE OBSIDIAN THRONE ᛏᚺᛖ ᚷᚱᚨᚾᛞ ᚷᚱᚨᛈᛖ ᚨᛚᛚᛁᚨᚾᚲᛖ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚷᚱᚨᚾᛞ ᚷᚱᚨᛈᛖ ᚨᛚᛚᛁᚨᚾᚲᛖ YOTH BRATHMORDAKIN NA YOTH URGUAN ᛁᛟᚦ ᛒᚱᚨᚦᛗᛟᚱᛞᚨᚲᛁᚾ ᚾᚨ ᛁᛟᚦ ᚢᚱᚷᚢᚨᚾ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMLcd-zobJ0 Preamble The Grand Kingdom of Urguan and the Principality of Celia’nor, hereinafter known as the Signatories, to establish stronger bonds and friendship amongst themselves, hereby issue the following Article I: Sovereignty The Signatories hereby acknowledge each other's claims and sovereignty to the lands they respectively hold within their jurisdiction. The Signatories agree to respect and acknowledge each other's laws, culture, as well as religion when inside each other's jurisdiction in their respective lands. They both recognize that citizens and occupants are subject to the laws in effect during visitation. The Signatories hereby agree that free passage of civilians between each other nations is to be granted. Article II: Defense The Signatories agree that no military action will be taken against any of their listed counterparts by any of their forces; this includes vassals and all endorsed factions under their jurisdiction. The Signatories will enforce a partnership between their domains and will not incite conflict among themselves or their allied forces. The Signatories pledge that they are willing to aid each other militarily if they are threatened. Should the nature of a conflict - in this case whether it is defensive or offensive - come into question or be unclear according to the assent’s agreed definition, both Signatories pledge to hold a summit in order to deliberate on a decision. They pledge to adhere to the consensus. Article III: Trade The Signatories shall be given privileged exchange of resources, goods, and economic commodities amongst their nations. The Signatories shall promise one another a tax-free stall to sell their wares. The Signatories pledge to take part in cultural exchanges between the nations’ citizens in order to broaden understanding in both domains. Texts, scrolls, knowledge, and scholars may be traded in such exchanges. The Signatories agree that Grand King Sigrun ‘Undeadslayer’ Stonehammer shall be granted free beverages of choice upon any visit to the Principality of Celia’nor. And the Principality of Celia’nor shall give The Grand Kingdom of Urguan two-hundred mina. Article IV: Darkspawn The Signatories agree to share their knowledge of any and all Darkspawn they may confront. They promise to lend any and all available resources to assist them in their fight against Darkspawn. They pledge to work together in the pursuit of this mutual goal. Article V: Duration This pact shall be in effect for twelve Saint’s Weeks. After the duration expires, the Signatories may reconvene to renew or renegotiate a new treaty. Both parties agree that if the pact is violated, then both parties shall host an immediate meeting together to attempt to resolve the issue. Signed, Sigrun ‘Undeadslayer’ Stonehammer Grand King of Urguan, Clan Father of The Stonehammers, Priest of Dungrimm, Hero of Dungrimm, Three-Time Grand Champion of Urguan. His Royal Majesty, The Prince of Fi'andria, Evarir of the North, Reclaimer of The Silver Pheonix, Prince of Celia'nor, Illthrak Ibarellan of the Principality of Celia’nor

YAKOV'S PROMISE Issued on 9th of Sigismund’s End, 1929, 62 B.A. In the spirit of unity and common heritage, House Vilac and House Ivanovich have determined that it is in the best interests of both houses to establish a new relationship built on honor and trust to ensure a promising future for the descendants of both houses. With this new hope in mind, the leaders of both houses have agreed to begin with a pledge of protection, adding to the alliances that already exist between their respective nations, Balian and Aaun. I. Recognition House Vilac and House Ivanovich recognize each other’s rightful leaders and their designated heirs. Furthermore, Both houses commit to upholding and carrying out any edicts or missives penned by either house in a timely and efficient manner. II. Non-Aggression House Vilac and House Ivanovich will continue to honor the agreements set forth by the Novellen-Augusten Pact of 1913, 46 B.A., and any future alliances that are to be created between the Kingdom of Balian and the United Kingdom of Aaun. The respective houses shall not incite conflict or bring harm to each other's families or nations. III. Mutual Defense In any case of an attack against either house, both shall take appropriate action. An attack against one is an attack against both. IV. Duration This pledge of defense shall henceforth be in effect for the duration of each Patriarch’s leadership. Once the leadership of either house changes, the heirs can reconvene to discuss new terms and renegotiate. SIGNED, His Grace, Ser Jan Arpad Ivanovich Duke of Stran, Patriarch of House Ivanovich Lord Casimir Marius Vilac Patriarch of House Vilac His Lordship, Istvan Matyas Ivanovich Lord of Andregrad, Heir to House Ivanovich August Maxim Vilac Heir-Apparent to House Vilac

"A race with the wind" By Plummius. ------========@[🌫]@========------- 'As Azfrai and her friend Minto woke up they felt the moving wind on their face, as they looked up and a hoard of clouds was moving, riding the very same wind the felt upon them Azfrai began to look around discovering they sat on the top of a mountains, around them were several other mountains with the wind racing between them. delighted Azfrai would get up feeling the air around her, straching her arms sideways she took a deep breath and with a long sigh and a smiled carved up her face she said to Minto "Wi ahm here". 'A short while after the two have gotten sense of where they are, Azfrai would call out to the spirit occupying this realm "Fiarza!" and not long after the wind around them shifted its route, beginning to form a clear path that leads them to an area at the bottom of the mountain the two would follow, Azfrai in a rush would almost glide down as Minto followed. As the two arrived to the bottom the wind shifted again! showing them a clear path followed by the clouds above them to a certain mountain where at its peak the clouds would circle in an almost inviting way. Azfrai told Minto "Well peepz like we have to klimb." Quick to answer Minto said "Aye!". Azfari would notice the hight of the mountain and would kneel in-front of the halfling saying "Latz klimb on mi back, mi will help latz klimb." with a firm nod and a quick swoop Minto easily climbed on the fe-orc's back before she began to climb upwards. Not long into the travel upwards the wind shifted again! with a sound that resembled a chuckle, the two would find themselves at the bottom of the mountain once more, confused the two exchanged looks before Azfrai let out a chuckle of her self, "Latz gruk that iz funny huh fiarza?" - "well, how about we race to the top then?" The wind calmed as Azfrai made the suggestion, almost like thinking for a bit before the clouds that were circling the mountain rushed down as they changed their purpose now at the bottom with Azfrai and Minto, Azfrai said "Minto, maybe lat zhould wait this azh out?" he quickly answered with a smile and determination "Nd miss 'oll te fun?" He would place him self at a ready posture along with Azfrai. Switching her gaze from the clouds to Minto she yelled "Ready?" - "GO!" The ''three'' raced upwards with speed, yet as expected the spirit won with Azfrai second and Minto trailing behind the two reached the top. As Minto cought up reaching the top the clouds were beginning to take form of a silver grey bird quickly morphing into a humanoid figure of a female, her feathers still attacked to parts of her body she began smiling, dancing around the two Fiarza inspected Azfrai now dancing in-front of Azfrai. With a wide smile and an urge to dance with the spirit Azfrai asked "Lat nub recognize mi?" the spirit stood for a second upon closer look her face brightened up Fiarza spoke in the old language "Yub mi do, blezzed azh, azh who carried my blezzing zince birth." - "Wub iz lat purpoze here?" Azfrai thought for a minute, yet sure enough with her feelings she said with a calm yet joyful voice "Mi wizh to be latz vezzel, untether mi-zelf from the earth agh zhow otherz latz ztrength." The spirit stopped dancing, she took Azfrai's hand gently with her voice echoing through the realm she spoke "The do zo, teach them all, give them latz wing. my blezzed azh, zhow it," And with those words Azfrai's tattoos began glowing faint blue grey color, air circling around her the spirit began to leave with the same dance chuckling, with that slowly the tattoos dimmed and the air calmed till none Azfrai left the realm with a pact and purpose. ------========@[🌫]@========-------

l’Arbre d’Or Coat of Arms Boon & Bane Coat of Arms Minitz Coat of Arms As written by The Right Honourable, Sir Emir Boon Sir Peter Stroheim THE ULTIMATE FOOD PACT Anno Domini, 1927 To the Citizens of the United Kingdom of Aaun, It is an honor that the three of us today come together to write a pact that has never been written before by anyone within Aevos, where the three of the best cooks of Aaun unite under one pact and one banner to make the taste buds of every citizen in the Kingdom live a better life amongst us. Recent events have come to our attention where most citizens would not appreciate one of the most common, yet important arts known to humanity, cooking, and take it seriously, especially when the distinguishable Jams of Boon & Banes, the Sparkling Sandwiches of Peter, and the long-forgotten practice of Emir’s cooking were never appreciated thoughtfully. We, Emir, Boon & Peter hereby declare a pact amongst one another to rise against the terror of awful cooks who keep citizen taste buds suffering under the peasantry foods, monk breads and taters that fill our chests and get eaten without any joy by the following ways: Boon will be able to serve his CHUTNEYS JAMS AND MARMALADES within the pact however he wants and will apply them to any addition served by the other two cooks. Sir Peter would be permitted to apply his SPARKLING SANDWICHES fused with the Jams and the magic applied to it. Sir Emir would be permitted to enchant and enhance the Jam Sandwiches with Alchemy and Magical Means to multiply the taste to the point it would be irresistible to the buyers and to make them look more appetite-appealing. The Pact signatories also accept the following: The Sandwiches will be sold for 1 mina per piece, due to understanding the economic crisis happening within every nation. The ultimate sandwich would be named: SPARKLING MAGICALLY ENHANCED CHUTNEYS JAMS AND MARMALADES SANDWICHES. Provide first-time tasters with a small bagel sample in order to discover our greatness. Declare war on Billy’s Baked Taters & Cloud Monk’s Gingerbreads. Buyers who buy more than 10 pieces of the Sandwiches get a free voucher for the Boon and Banes tent to try our upcoming foods by getting free pre-order samples. Daily health checkup approved by Emir to see if users who lack nutrients are prescribed Boon’s Jams be eaten every day for breakfast for a week. If people are caught avoiding such, they will be given Billy’s Baked Taters every day for a week in every nation-approved restaurant/food stall/tavern. A Contract must be agreed upon by the three signatories if businesses wish to order a bulk of the sandwiches. It excites all of us to start a new beginning to the end of the treacherous Billy and Monk foods and to start new beginnings to make healthy, delicious food a better place for everyone. We will have our debut during the Coronation of the King of Aaun. Contact us for a free checkup for allergies or special nutrient requirements in order to be healthy in the best way possible. Make sure to stay updated on our offers as sometimes these offers are impossible to refuse! ;) “ITS FINGER LICKIN’ GOOD” His Excellency, Sir Emir of the House d’Arbre, The Treasurer of Aaun, Count of l’Arbre d’Or Sir Peter Stroheim, The Flame of Waldenia Patriarch of House Stroheim Knight of Minitz, of the order of St. Tylos Master-Chef Boon, Master of the 101 Boon Recipes House Jazlovecki’s #1 Chef. Boon of Boon and Bane's general shoppe.

It had been decades since the pact was first formed. Oaths were made, some kept, and others broken, though through this, one constant remained, a half goblin whose skin was stained with the ichor of her matron. Throughout this span, the ire of Gazighaz occasionally followed the aging hybrid, but in truth the spirit and the masked shaman that followed her word to the very letter had grown distant. Even still, when Emony’s power waxed, the mother of blood smiled, her hands folded in anticipation of the day she could call for her dept to be repaid. Gazighaz bid her time for the day when the hybrid’s power reached its zenith. The day eventually came when the blood mother’s patience waned far below a tolerable level. A cold fog rolled in over the city of San Velku as deep within her bowls, a magician and her master practiced rituals that were considered too dark for the eyes of ordinary folk. The goblin seemed to take to the lesson quickly, aiding in the right with only a few minor issues indicative of a first timer. As they concluded, Emony felt a strange twinge in her nostrils. She ascended the set of stairs out of the hidden space with haste, all the while grasping her nose shut with her thumb and fist finger. By the time she had reached the main square, her face had begun to pale as blood trailed down her chin. Her pace was slow as she held her right hand against the surrounding walls for support as she made her way to her shop. Blood now flowed freely from the nose of the goblinoid, trailing behind her as she weekly climbed the ladder to her office. As she passed the mirror within the cave-like space a look of horror settled upon her face. Within the mirror’s reflection stood a half goblin with pale green skin. The former red pigment to her skin was seemingly draining from her nostrils. Emony recoiled in disgust at the face she had long ago abandoned as the last of her red left her face. Her hand curled int a loose fist which she threw at the mirror’s glass, but her strength had already left. The goblin’s knuckles thumped pathetically against the mirror before she fell to the ground. Within moments, Emony found herself in the place between the realms. Her body huddles through the utterly desolate plane and seems to be battered by an omnidirectional, rushing force. What met her vision when she fought the pressure exerted upon her eyes enough to open them, she was met with an utterly empty, lightless void. The hybrid’s ears only beheld the sound of the gale like winds that signaled their movement through this vacant space. Soon enough her nostrils are assaulted by a pungent metallic odor. This pervasive olfactory stimulus trounced every other sense. The falling sensation was soon replaced with a feeling of sinking into a bottomless abyss of stinking entrails. Further adding to this sensation, the temperature and humidity rise in tandem. Emony awoke upon the heaving realm of guts, organs, and blood from whence she once drew her pride. With her skin stripped of its blessing, the pulsating landscape before her felt all the more hostile. The ground squelched beneath her feet as she approached a massive pulsating mound seemingly formed from the intestines. She folds her arms close to her chest, huddling against her own fear as she approaches an opening within the pile. The flesh tunnel extended deep into what could be considered earth within this realm. The intestinal tract’s interior possessed an oppressive humidity, enough to make the skin of a hardened traveler crawl with discomfort. This space varied in its width; some areas allowed the goblin to stand comfortably while others forced her to squeeze through their barely traversable passages. All this was traversed with sparse lighting. Veins within the wall occasionally dipped or ascended close enough to shed a pale crimson light. With each step, the ground seemed it would give way beneath her tread before her sinking was impeded by strands of connective tissue. Each footfall seemed to yield little in the way of progress. Her distress grew as she descended ever deeper. The path became more snakelike as it began to deft all logic, doubling back on itself in impossible ways that would normally see the space converging on itself, though nothing like this occurred. The tunnel eventually began to radiate a fowl, coppery odor which assaulted the olfactory senses and mind of the goblin. Within her mind several voices began to shout, as if spurred on by the stench. They called to her in warning. Ukh krum (go back) Irz mokh-ûr, gaz baalak (Run for home, little half breed) Lat paashnar bazg nau. Lat ufur hûnpûlp (You cannot reach the end. You fear the heartbeat) No matter what was chanted, they all discouraged progress, though Emony was persistent. She pressed on, covering her ears to spite the fact that this served no purpose. When the voices became more persistent, she increased her speed. Eventually all fell to silence and the horrific scent faded leaving the goblin to recover. Within this new room the ground lay somewhere beneath a pool of blood. Each step brought Emony deeper into its body, quickly passing her knee and by the time she had reached its center, the crimson pond threatened to pass her neck, but it wouldn’t get the chance as Emony ascended a bone pile that lay at the pool’s heart. Perched atop this osseous mound was a great throne constructed of muscle stretched over rendered bone. Within it sat a disfigured female of indiscernible race. Her gaunt and pale figure nearly matched the coloration of the bones at her twisted feet. The woman’s skin bore a spidering network of blue veins that all seemed to lead towards her dislocated jaw. This maw retained a set of jagged teeth, built for the single purpose of piercing flesh. The horrific figure stood as its hollow gaze spotted the lone traveler. Its upper lip curled into a mangled half smile. The spirit’s jaw flapped as it spoke to address the goblin. The following has been roughly translated from old blah. So, the prodigal daughter returns to the realm of the heartbeat heading its call once more. You who once showed such promise, now writhing in the blood like a worthless parasite. Speak worm. Give your pathetic excuses. I thought my actions pleased Gazighaz. The rights I performed were in her honor. Truly, you are misguided if you think that blood magic of yours pleases the matriarch. You have done nothing to spread faith in her. Even if the little “rites” you performed did somehow serve the blood mother, you always do so in secret. We require new followers, and you refuse to preach the faith. Is that why my skin has returned to the color of my birth? Indeed. You must earn the right to wear the mantle of Gazigazh. What must be done to regain what was lost? The mother and I demand you build a great shrine. Construct a heart of bleeding stone, bound with links of iron. Endow this with the blood of your people, of any descended willing to give of their blood. Then, become her herald to the uruks. Who shall this heart be dedicated to? THROQUGRIZH With that name uttered, the bones beneath Emony began to tremble. They shifted, falling away from her feet, leaving her to plummet into the body of crimson ichor once more. Her vision was filled with red as she sank beneath its surface, but this soon descended into pitch black. Before long Emony awoke on the floor of her office in a small pool of blood from here her nose had leaked. Her reflected appearance in the mirror sported the green skin she was born with. As she stood, one final phrase echoed in her mind. Nar lûmp garmadh-ishi. (Do not fall in ruin [do not fail])

THE NOVELLEN-AUGUSTEN PACT Passed on Sun’s Smile 18, 1913, 12th of Godfreys Triumph, 46 of B.A ARTICLE I - SOVEREIGNTY The United Kingdom of Aaun and the Kingdom of Balian, or henceforth ‘the signatories’, recognise each other’s sovereignty and the rule of their domains, and their respective monarchs. ARTICLE II - NON-AGGRESSION The signatories pledge to each other to adhere to principles of peace between each other, they shall not wage war upon one another, nor shall they raise arms against one another, or try to bring harm to the integrity of one another’s Kingdoms. ARTICLE III - TRADE AGREEMENT The signatories are to exchange stalls free of rent in their respective capitals to foster outstanding economic ties. Any tariffs beforehand imposed are revoked, and the creation of new ones is forbidden. ARTICLE IV - MUTUAL DEFENSE The signatories hereby pledge to assist each other in matters of national defence; an attack on either party by a third party shall be considered an attack against both. Any disputes between the two shall first be resolved through peaceful means and dialogue by way of official channels. That whenever the territorial integrity of either nation is threatened in any way, shape, or form, the two shall come together to discuss preemptive measures. That neither signatory shall aggress upon the other in any way. ARTICLE IV - MUTUAL OFFENSE The signatories hereby pledge to assist each other in matters of offence. Should one of the signatories take up arms against a third party, the other shall similarly join the war so that they may both hold a successful campaign. Prior to any active campaign, the other nation must endeavour to inform their ally of the matter at hand before a war commences. ARTICLE VI - DARKSPAWN The Signatories hereby pledge to share any information on darkspawn they may have, in doing so, they may both rid their lands of Darkspawn. ARTICLE VII - EXTRADITION The Signatories hereby pledge to extradite those who have been proven to be criminals at each other’s request. ARTICLE VIII - DURATION This Treaty shall be in effect for a period of twenty years, after which the Kingdoms shall convene once again for renegotiations. Signed, HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Alexander I, by the Grace of GOD, King of Balian, Count of Monteres, Viscount of Eflen, Baron of Brucca and Valens, Lord of Atrus and Monterosa, Protector of the Heartlanders and the South, etcetera. HIS ROYAL EXCELLENCY, Ledicort Vuiller, Amiratus of the Kingdom of Balian, Lord Seneschal of the Crown and Chief Minister of the Duana. HER LADYSHIP, Mariya Elizabeth Novellen, Lady of Augusta, Ambassador of Balian His Royal Majesty, Charles I Alstion, Prince of Alstion, King of the United Kingdom of Aaun, Duke of Corazon, Protector of the Realm, Honorary Lieutenant of Snowy Field’s Watch. Her Excellency, Cosima Monika von Augusten, Countess of Hohengarten, Lady Emissary of Aaun

PACT OF SAND AND DRAGON As the Osanorian people have lived in peace for years and the kin of Yavok have fought and died for centuries, two races, both creed and identity form together to make change and lead their people into a bright and glorious future. The peoples of Clan Ireheart and Osanora agree to meet annually every 5 years to discuss renewing the following pacts. PACT OF TRADE Clan Ireheart and the State of Osanora agree to a Trade pact, enrichening both parties. I - That the traders from both Osanora and Clan Ireheart are given full permission to sell and trade with Dwed and Osanorian alike. II - The Taxing of stalls and selling items are allowed in full, and both parties are given full authority to tax Merchants selling goods. PACT OF DEFENSE I - Clan Ireheart agrees to fully protect the borders and the citizens of Osanora against any foreign entity agressing on Osanora. II - Osanora agrees to pay 950 barels of bread every stone month (4 stacks of Haybales) in return for protection from the Kin of Yavok. Felipe De Medina Count of Osanora Axel Ireheart, Clan Father of the Ireheart Clan