Search the Community

Cardinalis Denuntatio A Cardinal’s Announcement From the desk of His Eminence Casper, Cardinal Providentia, Prelate of The Clergy, and Metropolitan of Providence. TABLE OF CONTENTS ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ SECTION I - Greetings and Benediction SECTION II - Lifting a Curse: A Miracle ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ I Some years ago, I was elevated to the position of Metropolitan of Providentia - a position for which I am most grateful. As a token of my gratitude I wish to now hopefully strengthen the faith of the people, the faith of the Canon flock. I will publish the report of a Miracle here in this public announcement. A Miracle I myself witnessed and transcribed. I would like to bless you, people of GOD. I will publish the report of this Miracle for the sake of the faith of the people. I will bring something extraordinary to light for the sake of enlightening the Canon flock. In the next section, this Miracle will be described in detail. II The Miracle that was performed lifted a terrible course that had weighed the chest of a man for years. The Miracle cured a man and rid him of the chains of Iblees. The following events took place in the Cathedral of Providence about three years ago, and were transcribed by myself, Casper Cardinal Providentia. I entered the Cathedral one day to pray. While inside I found Holy Dame Helena Charlotte and Holy Sir Edwin in the middle of the hall, seemingly discussing something. I had just greeted them when a man, unknown to me, walked up to us. The man was cursed, he was a Vampyre. The Holy Dame proclaimed that she would attempt to lift this curse of his, be it with the help of GOD. The two approached the altar, and myself and Holy Sir Edwin had a seat at the pews to observe what would unfold. The Holy Dame produced a vial of Holy Water from her satchel and read a prayer with a hushed tone. She would then slowly turn to the cursed man, and ask him to kneel before the eyes of GOD and His Aenguls. The cursed man obediently did what he was told and kneeled before the altar. The Holy Dame proceeded to read unto him all the crimes he had committed against the faith, and all of his fallacies, asking the kneeling man if he denied what was said. The cursed man did not deny her words, and he embraced GOD’s righteous judgement. Helena Charlotte offered the man the vial and instructed him to drink its contents. He did drink the fluid within the vial, all whilst clutching onto a silver pendant with a gloved hand. And so did the Holy Dame pray unto him, whilst the forsaken man trembled in pain on the floor: “Judgeth me, O’ GOD, and discern my cause from the nation that is not Holy: deliver me from the unjust and disobedient man. For Thou art my GOD, my strength, why hast Thou cast me off? And why do I go sorrowful whilst the foe afflicteth me? Send forth Thy light and Thy truth: They hath conducted me, and brought me unto Thy Holy hill, and into Thy tabernacles. And I will go unto the altar of GOD, to GOD who giveth me joy to my youth. To Thee, O’ GOD, I will give praise upon the harp: Why art thou sad, my soul? Why does thou distress me? Hope in GOD, for I will still give praise to Him: The salvation of my will, and my GOD. “ “GOD has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments. Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.” Once these words were uttered, the cursed man stood to his feet and began to transform: His fangs receded to the length they once were, his hues turning back into those of a living man, his pupils expanding to regular size and his eyes turning blue in colour. He would stand up and murmur in an incoherent manner before collapsing. The unconscious man was then brought to a bed in the Cathedral. It is now up to GOD whether he shall awake or not, but his curse has been lifted: A Miracle has been performed. Let us all remember this day, the day a Miracle was performed. Let it be a reminder that we, as children of GOD, can do wonders in this world. And let it be a ray of hope for the sick and the cursed: GOD has not forsaken you. SIGNED BY YOUR HUMBLE AND LOVING SERVANT, Fr. Casper

https://imgur.com/a/wgFTyyE (This contains all the Photos for the build, more can be taken and the build can be found on the Haense build server as well as the planned location! :D) Lair PRO MC Name: Ofrider Lair Name: Kharzi Iron-Hold Proposed Lair Locations (Highlight 3 on the map): (Please refer to the Imgur link, the first three areas are posted within the link along with the exact areas from my perspective in game) Lair Lore (could link to an existing creature or other lore) (1000 words minimum): There was an Orc called Jorg, viewed as an unusual one, considering today's standards. An orc that used to live in Krugmar, along with his brothers and sisters. One that represented what an Orc should be - honorable, brave, and strong. However, he was unlike his people; he was tender-hearted and gentle. He was eager to acquire knowledge and experience outside of his homeland, in the vast nations of the elves, dwarves, and humans, amongst other strange and fantastical things amid his countless journeys and deeds. Although, in doing so, he discovered that not all things are quite what they seem to be. He was unlike his kind, for they raided like bandits; they pillaged cities and villages of the helpless, just for the coin, for food and things that shone, rather than something challenging to face. They enslaved the weak and vulnerable, lying would make them stronger, but instead, it only weakened them more and more. The orcs spoke of honor, but acted against their own words, backstabbing, lying, cheating… Whatever this was, it was far from the way Jorg had been taught. In his eyes, it was not what orcs should truly be. His efforts to change the crude ways of his kind proved to be futile; Jorg attempted to set an example for the Orcs, but upon the dwarves' declaration of war, his kin eagerly took the opportunity. Despite the dishonor behind the Orcs’ actions, Jorg was the one reprimanded, for trying to stand for Rex. He tried to stop his kin from taking the Goldhand, and ultimately saved her life… but not that of his kingdom. They came like a hammer upon a poorly wrought anvil - Krugmar cracked. Jorg witnessed his brothers wither away right in his arms. He sought out the friends they made, but everyone simply shook their heads… In the end, he was all alone. Too wounded to continue defending his kin, he had to watch his mother, and his six siblings die, tortured in front of him before a dwarf, a Grandaxe, saved him for what should have been his death. Much to his dismay, the Orcs were bloodthirsty. They sought revenge. But how could they? Their women were murdered, their cubs were butchered, and the elders slaughtered...what revenge? They had to build, bury their dead. But instead of mourning, his skin sought more bloodshed, more violence, and more decay. He alone was left to bury the dead, and he did, over many days, grave by grave. He eventually lost count of them, but he remembered their faces, each one, and how they died, and to this day, it still haunts him. He sought death, and when he couldn’t find it, he left. Krug was no longer his home, but a place of violent thieves and murderers. No longer was it a place for what it means to be an Orc; the spirits did not smile there, and in the case that they did, they were not spirits with righteous intentions. He left in search of a purpose, of anything, what was he without Krug? He had no more family, his clan was so besmirched with dirt that to say it with pride brought only pain and sorrow… this needed to change, and so he decided to make the change himself. Iron’Heartz was then created - a new clan, a new family for him. To teach the ways he knew, the ways he thought were best. A new path for what it meant to be an orc, something he felt was true, something he felt Krug had long abandoned. He started recruiting, no longer there to take, but to teach and guide; to be strong one must learn it, so he sought members. One by one he tested them, putting them through trials until he was proud of them enough to call them kin, family. They were orcs despite their race, what honorary should be, and the clan welcomed them as family. Some may call this shame, where are the blood orcs? Like himself, they would come, slowly but surely, and even if he were to die, the rest would carry on Jorg’s legacy of what being a true orc means, so that when Krug does fall, those seeking the path of the Orc would find it. Even if it took forever, he would make sure his clan would last just as long. And to have a clan meant that one needed a place to stay, to grow the people, to store food, to smith armor, to have a home! So he sought one, in the mountains beyond where he worked as a mercenary, in Haense, amongst strange trees on high mountain tops, where most would never reach, he finally found traces of an old stronghold, an old dwarven fortress, hidden deep in the mountains. It was perfect, it was the orc way, to take over what was once lost and make it one’s own. Orcs were like weeds, sprouting up in expected spots, even old and forgotten ones. He led his clan towards the mountains, where they fought against rogue dwarves, those that deserted from Urugan, as well as animals, well-fed by the bountiful green mountain, tribes of creatures from the deep that rose to raid food from the animals they hunted. And even groups of minotaurs, snorting at the welcomed challenge that was the clan moving into scout for a place to call home. Then they found it after an earthquake, revealing the entrance to the old dwarven keep. This particular hold was archaic, more olden than any living dwarf. It dated back generations, back when the deep roads of the dwarves were still strong and well used. It was held by an old clan, now forgotten by time itself in rotten books that held nothing but dust and decay. The hold was supposed to be for scouting, gradually developing into the fort, the deep roads expanding at this point to involve more of the land into what some might eventually call a settlement… Then something came. They dug too deep, the caverns too long, the roads too wide, they awakened something, something terrible, and it came up to attack the unprepared and surprised dwarves. Whatever it was, it was winning, and they didn't have any forces from within... it was supposed to be their domain. In the end, they collapsed the mountain and ran out, refusing to let what dark horror awaited below to come to the surface. It has been many years, and a recent earthquake revealed what was hidden, the dwarven hold, one empty, overgrown from deep cavern plants, one ripe for harvest for orcs...and something waited for them in there...something deep, forgotten, powerful. They would reclaim it, building massive shrines in the name of their spirits, calling it home, a place that would one day become a legend in Orc history, as the grand home, of Klan Iron’Heartz. And when it would get taken over, everything would change. From the library filled with orc history, to teachings on blacksmithing, about spirits, a great collection of books of all races, to learn, replacing old dank books, too soaked in humidity to be read, other recovered that could be recovered The forge was remade, what was once cold was re-born. The strength of dwarven forges combined with orcish might as technologies mixed in weird ways. Seeds and gardens were planted for there to be life...something that orcs rarely did, so new life could grow and feed the ever-growing clan. A great throne room was re-done, a great fighting pit, of the ancient art of those blessed by Arwa was made, called a Sumo pit, a place for those to train was made. Rooms made for all arts and crafts. A hold truely fit for generations of Klan leads to come. (That is the link to the Clan lore page! Please enjoy, this contains more lore about the clan in general) Lair Build and Infrastructure (photos required): (Please refer to the Imgur link) Why can you not accomplish the niche of this lair’s roleplay in an existing settlement or nation? (We expect a substantial answer for this, not just ‘I don’t like them’). It is a perspective on Orc culture that would not be allowed in Krugmar. Additionally, due to roleplay events, Jorg is no longer part of Krugmar, but continues to view himself as an honorable Orc and desires to instill Orcish values in his own derivative way, and perhaps even have his own family. This lair would allow for a welcoming and controlled environment, where casual and friendly roleplay may exist without political or violent (unless necessary) interference. It aims to cultivate Orcish culture amongst players of other nations and races, integrate honoraries into an Orc clan and experience Orc roleplay, which tends to be limited to Krugmar. Our lair provides a unique setting for both those part of the clan, as well as those who simply wish to visit. What does this lair add to the greater world around them?: Clan Iron'heartz is one of the largest Orc clans outside of Krugmar, demonstrating a neutral environment for many, if not all, races and nations. Our laid build has considered its members and has allowed access to the deep roads for its dwarven participants, which in turn may open roleplay opportunities and is also a strategically built area with events in mind. The deep roads are highly connected to spiritual lore and thus expand possibilities of religious roleplay, and intends to share the beautiful orcish lore that is otherwise confined to Krugmar. The location in question is in tile 143 I think

Hi, this is just an annoucement that if you're looking for someone to RP a golem or a Sorvian then DM me, my discord is GeneralPumpkinCZ#1005 Note: This is not begging or something, just that if you have spare golem or Sorvian persona then contact me please. Also i can't roleplay any Creature App until 1.8.2021 Thank you for your time. Btw this amazing peace of art is an art of a golem played by - Reece_Nolan

Beneath the Bark - An Anthropological Study of Wood Elves ____ By Krenanteon Stolt’aroloth ____ Forward “To study the world is the joy of living.” Those are the words of yours truly, the renowned writer and intellectual Krenanteon Stolt’aroloth. While the pursuit of knowledge, both deep and near, is my goal within this strange mortal coil, there is one topic which has always fascinated me beyond all. Since my days as a small icicle, the nature of the primitive wood elf filled my cranium with bountiful curiosity. Thus, five years ago I decided to finally study these puzzling creatures in a depth that previously lay undiscovered by outsiders of their culture. Living among the wood elves and deeply immersing myself within their habitat, I observed them closely. What follows are my findings. Physiology The wood elf is a “creature” whose name is apt. Born from seed, these nymphs of the forest bloom under the supple teat of the sun, relying on the blue milk of the earth to blossom away from the muck in which they were implanted. This development process of the Mali’ame, however, like that of most primitive beings, is a slow one. It begins with the growth of seed within a male ‘ame’s hair. Each spring, there is a chance of such phenomena occurring. However, being (debatably) of the mali taxonomy, and so cursed with infertility, this phenomena is one that is exceedingly rare. If, by slim chance, a wood elf of the male variety does find an earthy kernel within his plumage, he treats it with care until reaching a ripened white state. This is a crucial stage that often ends in catastrophe, given the reckless demeanor of the male wood elf. Although, once in a green moon, the seed is not treated haphazardly and is able to ripen. When this occurs, the male plucks the pearl from its brown, keratinous branch and begins his search for a suitable “mate”. If a female is willing, she takes the seed and places it in her belly button. The seed then sits in this cavern for a number of days, given a regular watering from its new host until it finally germinates. Once the initial sprouting has started, the seed is fished out of the belly button and is brought to a suitable place in the soil. Typically, wood elven parents elect to plant their seed within their home garden. It is here that the final, and longest, stage of their development occurs. Growing in the dirt, the mother and father care for the seedling, giving it ample water and sunlight. Through such gentle nurture, they sprout what the layman would define as elven features. After many months, pointy ears, pointy faces, and all manner of limbs bud from their spriggy stem, coming to resemble the typical wood elven form that we all know. But what lies within this elvenoid exterior that we claim to know? While many a critter of the realm gain their vitality through the thick red ichor most commonly referred to as “blood,” the same cannot be said of our woodland “kin.” Like all trees born of seed and dirt, the wood elf is composed of wood. This, however, does not mean that he or she is less vulnerable. They too contain bits on the inside that need to stay on the inside. Planty fibers drive their movements and organs of cellulose maintain a natural order within their husk. However, none of these internals can function without the life-giving sap that runs through their bodies. This sweet, viscous syrup pools through the spongy mesophyll, pumping in and out of their vital sacs, making the bodies function (application of this syrup upon breakfast cakes is at the reader's own discretion). As it must fill all areas of their form, the sap flows close to the surface of the wood elf, allowing them to be easily tapped. Much like blood, loss of this syrup proves catastrophic to the wood elf, leading to a quick death. Thus, the vitality of the wood elf is balanced on the edge of a knife by this arguably delectable fluid. Behavior Being a creature of wood and bark, the Mali’ame is highly susceptible to most types of damage. Sharp and pointy objects like swords and axes cleave easily through their oaken flesh. This is commonly demonstrated by the lumbermen of the forest. Moreover, if not properly hydrated, the wood elf is highly flammable, able to combust in seconds when in the close presence of fire (See appendices for data). For these reasons, the wood elf has a deep and innate sense of cowardice which compels him or her to nearly always run away from a fight. However, this is not always possible. At times, a woodland sprite may have no choice, and in deep internal conflict with its own nature, it must engage in battle. Given that loss of bodily fluids is a concern, it is starkly important that animals have the ability to defend themselves. The elves of the trees, however, are composed of dense, woody fibers that are stiff and difficult to move. Thus, they are neither agile nor quick on their feet, holding a significant disadvantage on the battlefield as a result. While this dense limb composition may allow them to lift a weapon with relative ease, the stiffness of their woody tissue does not allow them to move the blade effectively. For this reason, a wood elf will never engage in a duel with another race of mali, choosing only to fight in great numbers to make up for their significant lack of skill. Similarly, the weak physical makeup of the wood elf has resulted in the development of a constant state of hiding. These wood nymphs lock themselves away in shambling villages barricaded by mountains and trees, keeping their gates under lock and key at all times due to their constant fear of the vastly superior beings of the continent. This cowardly and distrustful behavior, however, has seemingly made them a bigger, and more sporting, target for said beings. Religion and Druidism In terms of religious affairs, the ‘ame people worship a grouping of fictitious and blasphemous “gods” known as the Aspects. In the name of these false idols, they carve large wooden statues and conduct strange rites atop tall hills. Strangely, despite the wood elves’ innate weakness to flame, part of these rites involves the construction of large pyres in which to dance around in a primal fashion. In groups, they skip and bound in circles round the fire, chanting strange phrases. While in Elvenesse, I witnessed several ‘ame perish to these fires amidst their dance rituals, and it remains unclear as to whether this is an intentional (albeit in vain given the falsities of their “gods”) sacrifice, or whether they simply jigged too near to the flames. A foolish move for a foolish people. The worship of these so-called gods holds close ties to a heathen magical practice known most commonly as “Druidism.” These druids adopt the primal rites of the Aspects in the use of heretical ceremonies as a means of conjuring magics, hexes, jinxes, obeahs, voodoos, hoodoos, snoodoos, and the like. Given the falsity of their deities, the enchantments of such wiccans are likely little more than parlour tricks. However, the intent of any magical rite or incantation is a foul thing that breeds foul things. Thus, caution should be warranted around those that practice such depravities. Language While today it is true that these “elves” speak the same tongue as their “fellow” mali, through careful and stunningly accurate observation, it became inescapably evident that there is more. Before adopting the dialect of higher beings, the Mali’ame developed a form of speaking that was entirely their own. After months of deep immersion into their twiggen culture, I began to see flickers and glimpses of this communication, which can only be described here as primitive, insulting, and a bit rhombus. Hiding from the cover of the scratchy underbrush, I was fortunate enough to witness an “interaction” between two “elves” of the woodland complexion, the like of which I doubt has been seen by a more advanced creature for thousands of years. What I witnessed appeared to be an exchange of odd, guttural grunts that were highly offensive to the ear. It was not for many moments until it became apparent that these grunts actually held some form of “meaning” behind them. Not only that, but the language seemed to stem beyond mere throated yarps, and in fact, included motions of the hands and feet. Strange combinations of tapping, kicking, and crossing of limbs seemed to coincide with brash facial emotions, in tide with specific grunts and gurgles from deep within their woodpipes. An oral/visual language form! I have taken to calling it “barking.” What follows are interpretative meanings of the observed expressions: Hello: “Hgurgh!” + wave Goodbye: “Ggurgh!” + wave Yes: “Ygurgh!” + nodding + clapping hands No: “Ngurgh!” + shaking head violently + stomping + optional slapping of peer Tree: “Tgurgh!” + wide eyes + waving of both hands up + widened stance Leaf: “Lgurgh!” + wiggly fingers tapping forearm Fruit: “Fgurgh!” + Salivation + Enclosed fists clanking together Banana: “Bgurgh!” + look of excitement + wide eyes + pounding chest Appendix I. Wood Elven “Tapping” - Tree taps were inserted into the bark of 5 wood elven subjects - Only half inch tap was required to gain adequate sap flow - Average of 10 minutes to drain all sap - Average of 11 pints measured II. Wood Elven Flammability Tests: Quality Control: (All torches were of the same heat and placed to the same region of the wood elf’s body) Wood Elf Time to Ignition Tree log Time to Ignition Subject 1 6 seconds Log 1 4 seconds Subject 2 5 seconds Log 2 5 seconds Subject 3 2 seconds Log 3 3 seconds Subject 4 5 seconds Log 4 6 seconds Subject 5 3 seconds Log 5 5 seconds III. Wood Elven Growth Rate & Protocol Quality Control: (All seedlings were harvested from the branches of the same ‘ame) 1) Harvest seedling from male ‘ame hair branch 2) Implant into female ‘ame belly button - Check for germination progression each day and water regularly - Average Germination Time: 2-3 days 3) Remove from belly button and plant in warm, moist soil (long term) - First sprouting after 2 weeks - Should see healthy growth for many months - First sign of ears: inconclusive IV. Stolt’aroloth Breakfast Cake Recipe Ingredients - 2 Greet eggs - ¼ cup of caribou milk - ½ cup water (melted from Fennic ice) - 1 cup flour (finely sifted) - 3 Tbsp melted butter (pasteurized from caribou milk) - Dash of vanilla extract - Sprinkle of zested cactus hide Directions 1. Mix all ingredients into a large bowl. 2. Per cake, pour 1 cup mixture into an omelette pan. 3. Let each cake cook for 1 minute. 4. Serve. 5. Application of freshly tapped syrup recommended.

[!] Flyers would be posted everywhere, throughout each city of Almaris. "Tea with the Talon’s Council!" [!] A painting of a group of people, about to settle down for tea. Tea will be served alongside biscuits, cookies, and many other sweet treats, during the month of Malin’s Welcome on the 10th day in the capital city of Talon’s Port. Be sure to send a bird to any of the council members and RSVP, letting us know you’re to be joining us for a wonderful time. Chatter away with ease, and confide in your friends- we’re here to help and give you what you need. All friendly persons invited, nobody will be left out- just be sure to bring some extra treats! If you love to bake, then bring your best goods! If you make your own tea, we’d love to sample it! Wanna bring some wine? Go right ahead, just be careful! Hopefully we see you there! (Note: Bring flowers. No questions, do it.) Special Invites have been sent to the following: The Rex Yarrow’Lur, and the citizens of Krugmar. His Majesty Heinrik Karl, along with his people. Sohaer of Haelun’or, Othelu Orrar, and his people. The King of Norland, Sven Edvardsson, and his people. The Duke of Elysium, Eugeo de Astrea, as well as his people. The Grand King of Uruguan, Norli Starbreaker, and his people. The City of Yong-Ping, and it's people.

Basic Blacksmith Tutorial in Selestia [!] A small steel sheet bearing neat engravings upon it would be sent randomly around the entirety of Almaris, appearing to be a sort of invitation for an event. Basic Blacksmithing Tutorial, hosted by the ‘Koi Commodities’ Forge in Selestia. A small tutorial on how to forge a basic item using Oyashiman style blacksmithing, occurring at 7pm this Elven day, all are welcomed. If you are to join, please be fully ready to follow the smithery’s traditions, and if not, expect to be escorted out from this event. If you have any following questions once the event is over, you may feel free to ask. - From, Tenebris. [!] in the bottom left of the metal sheet is the touchmark of Tenebris, looking like a snake curved around a pinecone in the center] (For OOC information contact: Papi Shmeat Cleaver#9996) (( OOC INFO )) DATE: Today! TIME: 7PM EST! DIRECTIONS: Travel to West hub, from there continue with the path until you get to the sign towards Krugmar or Elvenesse. Take the Krugmar road and continue with it until a sign that points to Krugmar or Talon’s. Take the road to Talon’s and continue with it, staying only on that path until you end up right by Talon’s Port’s front gate then turn left and follow the path until you reach Selestia.

[!] A notice has been pinned to the general event board, announcing a coming event that all may participate in! The folk of the House play merry music in anticipation for their beloved cultural pastime [!] The horns of Hawksong ring proudly amongst the treetops, kin, announcing our traditional mounted hunt for rabbits and boar! Our House has elected to open up the ride for all who wish to join us on the following elven day for an event of fast-paced hunting, chasing and comradery of the Twilit Folk's heritage. Limited space is available if you cannot provide your own mount and supplies. However, all that can provide their own steed and supplies are welcome to join the hunting party! We recommend both ranged and close range weapons. Keep what you catch, or collaborate with the House in food preparation for the Mani Masquerade that will follow the hunt! Send a letter to myself to reserve your spot ahead of time to ensure the best possible experience! 3 PM EST, 4/24/21 (( This is a casual PvP event - but before you 'yikes' away, don't worry! Your characters will need to coordinate and chase down some game that will be played by willing volunteers that will drop some goodies upon being downed. The rules are as follows: The hunt area is restricted entirely to the Hinterlands. This area is outside the main city, but within the first series of gates you encounter when walking to Amaethea. The event itself will last about 30-45 minutes, and will be a mix of RP and PvP between bouts of animal chasing. Feel free to bring any and all tools you feel will aid you in chasing down the 'game'. There will be no 'popping' of the 'game' permitted via MC mechanics, as the volunteers will be issuing a few chases after they hide. Come have a good time!))

A letter sent to the High Sea Prince, with a copy posted onto Elvenesse's notice board as well. “To the Princedom of Elvenesse, I write this to you from a neutral standpoint. As tensions rise between two of the three nations within the west, I believe a statement must be written on behalf of Talon’s Port. Our city, nor it’s vassal, shall take part in any acts of war between Krugmar and Elvenesse, should it come to that. This as I see it, is your fault, and your fault only. We all know peace does not last long, but alas, you seem to have sped up the process of ending it. A minor inconvenience you have caused, I might say. This is simply not just to say we shall not fight if it were to end up needed, but we will also not be dragged into this as it currently stands. We want no part in any of this, and prefer to stay at peace. Simply look at these as boundaries, boundaries that if you dare cross, will have consequences. I do not mean to threaten you like this, nor mean disrespect in the slightest while writing this. If you wish to privately speak with me on this matter, please do so.” Signed, Athri Onfroi Belrose Talon’s Port Minister of Foreign Affairs

In patientia On Patience 10th of Snow’s Maiden, 1816 Patience is a virtue among the hardest to fully accept, yet it is of utmost importance that we do. Commonly, this is due to the hard trials we are put through by the Lord -- this can confuse some; why would He, who can do so much good, put us through trials where we suffer? It is to strengthen the faithful, to harden us in our faith. Although guidance can be necessary in order to achieve this strengthening, it is one’s own mind that has to be open in order for the strengthening to take place. As written in The Canticle of Patience within The Scroll of Virtue: “7 For I have given you the pains of the world, and I have given you their cure. 8 And you shall know the trials of this theater of virtue, and know that they shall strengthen you.” It may seem hard to keep one’s patience when we are put through the Holy trials, but it is necessary in order to remain true in faith and on the righteous path. The moment one loses their patience, one is set on a dark path towards wrath and envy. The sinful path is not for any faithful Canonist to take, as it brings you further from the Seven Skies. “9 So I am the Most High, and in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not raise a hand in wrath, nor in envy, nor in any kind of sin.” The Holy trials were instituted to remind us of our humanity, and to remind us of the salvation that awaits us in the Seven Skies where all pain and suffering is replaced by endless joy. God brought upon us all the struggles, but also all the remedies. It is up to us faithful to use our own faith in Him to tackle the struggles -- for the remedy is never far away. Persist in the trials you are set through by Him, and you shall find your faith and soul strengthened. Persist in your faith, and you shall find yourself in the Seven Skies where we all aspire to be. Written by Chaplain Casper

Welcome to the ⋆✧Selestia Wine Festival✧ [!] An artistically written poster would be sent out and put everywhere throughout Almaris. It would be depicted as an invitation for all who see to come. Welcome to the Wine Festival hosted by The County Of Selestia The County Of Selestia formally invites all who see to the Wine Festival. During this Festival there be a large array of drinks mostly wine but there are other drinks available such as whiskey, medley, Mulled Wine, Spiked Tea, and Flavored Vodka (And much more). The Festival will be a night under the stars where there will be lots of drinking and dancing till the night ends. There will also be a drinking contest that you may partake in, it only costs 3 mina to enter, with a prize of 20 mina. All taverns across all of Almaris are invited to partake and sell their Booz at a stall that will be provided with a small reservation fee (1 mina). (Please contact me Oh_Ontario#4000 to get a stall ) (( OOC INFO )) DATE: Saturday, April 10th TIME: 4 pm EST DIRECTIONS: Travel to West hub, from there continue with the path until you get to the sign towards Krugmar or Elvenesse. Take the Krugmar road and continue with it until a sign that points to Krugmar or Talon’s. Take the road to Talon’s and continue with it, staying only on that path until you end up right by Talon’s Port’s front gate then turn left and follow the path until you reach Selestia! To get more information contact: Oh_Ontario#4000

Welcome to the Talon's Trades Festival [!] An elegantly written poster would be sent out and put everywhere throughout Almaris. It would be depicted as an invitation for all nations to come. Welcome to the Trades Festival hosted by The Sovereign Nation of Talon’s Port Talon's Port humbly invites you to our Trades Festival. During this Festival temporary stalls will be available for rent for the evening and many cultures from around Almaris shall be displayed. There will be specialty items that you can get during this from different Nations. The Ale House will also be open with a full stock with some new drinks made specifically to celebrate. The event mainly consists of trading different goods from different nations and seeing the different cultures displayed and how we can all get along with a little drink and a good fair trade. (( OOC INFO )) DATE: Saturday, March 27th TIME: 5 pm EST DIRECTIONS: Travel to West hub, from there continue with the path until you get to the sign towards Krugmar or Elvenesse. Take the Krugmar road and continue with it until a sign that points to Krugmar or Talon’s. Take the road to Talon’s and continue with it, staying only on that path until you end up right by Talon’s Port’s front gates! To get a stall contact: Demon_Lilly#9033 or Oh_Ontario#4000

[!] Throughout the Atol Grove, the city of Amaethea, and to individuals across Almaris, foxes wearing golden circlets around their necks delivered letters on door steps before then scampering off into the wilderness. A single magnolia flower is attached to each letter. -=- Lari'onnan, Mal'onnan You are cordially invited to the wedding of Sonna Vuln’miruel and Zolvan Vuln’miruel. The wedding will take place in the Atol Grove, home to The Drudic Order, on the 10th of Sun’s Smile. It will be atop the Mother Tree, within its branches and leaves. After the ceremony, a reception will be held where the Mother Circle’s moots take place. Please come dressed for the occasion. This wedding is to be held on neutral ground so absolutely no political talk will be tolerated. It is a day for celebration, not treaties or bloodshed. I hope to see you all there! Sincerely, Sister Fox and Brother Amber =-= The invitees are as followed: All members of The Druidic Order, dedicants and family included Feanor Sylvaeri, High Prince of Elvenesse, and all citizens of Elvenesse Daerine Merachae’onn, and her family Caedric Edvardsson, Hand of the King of Norland, and his family Alisa Camian, High Keeper of the Red Faith, and her family Levian’Tol Grandaxe, Grand Steward of Urguan, his wife Yazmorra Blackroot, High Chief of Hefrumm, and their family Ayliana Maehr’tehral, Head Physician of Haelunor, and her family Maruthir Kriswynn, and his family (OOC: The wedding is Sunday, March 28th, at 5 PM EST)

The sing-song voices of nature would seem to grow hush. To all those attuned to the Aspects, a tug would be felt deep within their very soul. Of loss, of pain, and sorrow.. yet clear within- peace and relief. A fellow Brother or Sister was now no more, and had passed into the Eternal Forest At first, there was darkness. Then, from the infinite, black expanse, a light of emerald shone. It pulled that disembodied spirit forward, into warmth and safety. The feet of the Elder Ame landed on solid ground, and she felt soft grass fill the space between her toes. Finally her eyes opened, and before the druidess, a familiar red-haired ame’ stood. But she was… She was on the battlefield before. It wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Then the realization hit her. “I…?” the ame’s scratchy voice sounded out, amongst the chorus of nature. She would tilt her head, looking to the Dragaar. The ame’ woman in front of her nodded gently at that, beginning to speak, her words almost a breath. “For the duties… I’m sorry. Sister Orison, you have… passed. You shall see Caribou, and Owl. You are.. part of the forest now.” “Oh.” Awaiti fell silent for the moment, her gaze lingering on Taynei’hiylun as her long life flashed before her eyes. She thought back on all her successes, and on all of her failures. Even now, they gnawed at her. “Did I do alright?” she asked, earnestly. Taynei’hiylun simply smiled, and nodded some at the question. “You did beautifully. For your people, for yourself,” she’d say, offering both of her hands out to the weary elder. “Many will cry for you. Many will be inspired by you. You did your absolute best.” Awaiti looked down at her outstretched hands, gingerly lifting her hands in order to take Taynei’s into her own, but before she could, she noticed something. Her arm was back. Her real arm- flesh and bone. At its sight, she recalled the battle in which she’d lost it, and with it, all the battles throughout her life. She had fought, until the very end. Against countless threats, and enemies to her people, and to the balance, but this time… she had lost. Now it was time to rest. Finally, time to rest. “I did my best. I failed a lot, but I did my best,” she’d say, her hands intertwined with Taynei’s own. “That is all we can do.” Behind Taynei’hiylu, a shimmering viridian portal opened, showing the diminutive ame’ all that the realm contained. Her lost friends, family. Her brothers and sisters. A place of rest, and peace. She saw Abelas, Arin, Hareven, and all those she cared about. “Where would you like to start?” the Dragaar asked, softly. “You have your eternity here now.” “Can I go see Hareven first? I’ve wanted to see him since this started… I want him to know we’re trying.” “You have his touch about you. I thought as such,” Taynei said through a tear stained smile “I’ll send you along to him with Owl. It may give him comfort as the coming trial grows closer.” Before Awaiti could respond, the Dragaar reached into the air, a familiar staff manifesting in her grasp. It was Awaiti’s staff. “Your daughter. The one named of my old friend. Would you like for her to be entitled with her mother’s memento?” Awaiti looked down at her old staff, her brows furrowing some in thought. She remembered what she left behind for Irrin. Her staff though… was meant for another. “Ne, ne. I left something for her… something important.” Her hands rose to lay gently atop her staff, the ame’ taking a deep breath. “Can you give this to Nivndil?” She’d say, barely above a whisper. “I… loved her.” “Love,” the Dragaar corrected her. “All those of the leaves and soil are still here for one another, in that world or in this one. And she loves you. And Irrin does as well. And more upon more. This changes nothing of love,” she’d say, reaching up to lay her hand gently against the side of her now unscarred face. “You are an example of our kin’s love.” The elder Mali leaned into Taynei’s touch, letting out a sigh of relief at her gentleness. Her amber gaze returned to the portal, fixed upon Hareven, and Owl. She smiled. “Thank you. I… I think I’m ready.” The Dragaar waved her hand toward the portal, the scene shifting to focus solely on Hareven and Owl. Standing, she took Awaiti’s hand, and led her into the portal.

An oak tree stood still among the cold, endless fog… unmoving, statuesque. Nothing else was there. He'd seen this tree dozens of times before, and no matter how much he ran, or how much strength he forced his feet to carry, it remained ever far away. Never closer, never out of his line of sight… The elf lord was frustrated to no end. He awoke in a sweat, in the lonely comfort of his bed. These dreams did not cease to gnaw at his thoughts since he began his journey. Sometimes he wished for something else to haunt his nights, craving the warm embrace of his lady in the late hours or the steady roll of the tide. The elf-lord swept the sheets off of his bare form, his feet finding his boots as they had done every morning since the start of his long life. There, at least, something was consistent. Comforting. Tailed coat and trousers followed with their own faithful and obedient beckoning. Another day of questions, curious insight, probing into the Emerald unknown. That night, the fog was thinner and the oak tree was closer. He could circle around the trunk, who stood unmoving at the center of the empty clovered fields. There was no treeline, no mountains… just a consuming fog, and the green beneath his feet. He circled, and circled… a small victory sparked in his heart. Sweet progress, finally, in this maddening and recurring dream. Or so he thought, before he came face-to-face with the amber, somber gaze of a canine.It sat on its haunches, cloaked in a fiery mane of auburn and umber. The veterinarian's eyes knew exactly what this creature was as his twilit eyes follow the slender, cunning point of his maw. The coyote held a branch between his teeth, each end burning a brilliant flame that gave off no heat nor noise. It simply licked the air in wild curls and brilliant colors. "I don't… I don't understand." the Hawksong managed to utter, just as his eyes focused back onto the ceiling of his familiar home. The dream was gone, again. It tormented him like some unsolvable jigsaw, the pieces morphing into different shapes just as they began to seal together. His feet swing out of his bed, again, and into his routine. "I don't understand." Another day of questions. Some he could explain without obstacle, the others were impossible. Complex and malleable in his brain, no tongue of descendants could express exactly what he was seeing. He was warned of the strangeness of dedicancy, but nobody could truly prepare him for what plagued his nights and days. Another moon rises, her pale beams giving way to that same fog in his dreams. That same oak, that same coyote with the branch in his teeth… At his flanks, the statues of two great bears flank the coyote. They towered over the umber-furred creature, paws held before their waist at either end of the coyote’s branch as if they were nursing the flames themselves. The fires burned brighter, with unseen colors of an ethereal rainbow. The elf could almost hear the echoes of something, somebody… it sounded so familiar, it sounded like- He awoke again, staring at the ceiling that mocked his bewilderment. He threw his covers off and commanded his feet into his boots as they always did, the sunlight careening through the slats of his balcony onto his face as if to spur him on his way. One last druid, endless queries. The oak was ever still, again… but the fog gave away to snow. Lovely, dazzlingly white and powdery snow that danced like dainty gardenia petals down to a thin blanket of cold upon the field. The coyote waited as he always did, branch in teeth with the fires burning with nearly blinding brilliance. The statues of the bears had swiveled their head as he came to within this dream, watching… waiting for him to eventually reach the foot of the oak for answers as he always did. The crunch of the snow beneath his feet was nearly real enough to believe, if this dream hadn’t haunted every second of his mind, awake or asleep. He left no footprints as he trailed towards the coyote. To his shocked surprise, the creature finally moved as he came to a halt before him. The pads of his feet loped in a gentle canter around him, leaving a trail of dazzling embers from the fires of his branch. He could hear the voices clearly, now… it was his own. He saw visions of himself within the swirling firestorm, and what he dearly wished himself to be… The long locks of a flaxen elfess twirling in his fingers, his lance hoisted high in the sun amongst a line of Wardens, a clinic packed full of patients he had saved. Visions cracked across his conscious as fast as lightning, and their strange meaning rocked his soul like rolling thunder… Family, lover, duty, medicine… all things he wished to be a warrior for. Just as he reached out to take the last vision’s hand, the ivory skin of his beloved… she recoiled in fear, falling before him with bruises upon her flesh as he suddenly found himself with clenched fists. “No...No!” he shouts, just as he is thrown into a wild, standing spin and seeing himself in another nightmare. A flash of his white cloak of Warden armor raked against his foe, his strikes were wild, furious, ruthless… blood poured upon the ground, as if a pack of wolves had torn through these souls. Just as he sprang forth to help them, or ask them anything… his hands were deep in the bloody, pulpy rib-cage of some long enemy of his. Their eyes were glassy, anemic, pleading as the surgeon tortured the man. All the awful things that he could be a warrior for... “....Help me.” The man says simply up to the surgeon, and the elf-lord emits a harrowing scream that shuns the visions of himself back to the fire, back to the coyote who sits at the base of the oak tree. “You have a choice ahead…” the animal spirit says, his maw unmoving as he carries his branch. His voice was ancient, old, and cunningly wise. “Awaken, Aerendyl, and forge your chosen path…” The elf does, rousing from his sleep as the dream fades away with the explosion of crow feathers. He felt oddly calm as he decided to lay there for a while, turning his head to his loyal pair of boots. They didn’t find his feet that morning… instead, the elf walked out of his house that day with a pair of simple but elegant robes, off to find his teacher. The eyes of his totem awoke that day, seeing clearly.

EXALTED SIGISMUND’S DAY FAIR Haeseni Canonists celebrate a religious festival, 342 ES To the faithful Haeseni flock, The Reverend Archbishop Yaromir of Henrikev and Grand Maer Franz Barbanov invite all believers to join in the Exalted Sigismund’s Day celebrations! The High Pontiff shall begin the day with a prayer over the Exalted Sigismund’s grave, which shall then be followed by festival games which offer prizes, free food and drink, and a Haeseni Saints trivia! GODANI JEST WIELKI Signed, The Most Reverend Yaromir, Archbishop of Henrikev His Highness, Franz Leopold Barbanov, Duke of Schattenburg, Grand Maer of Karosgrad

The Clock is Ticking, the ball is in your court. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The streets were unbearably cold that night, the pounding of feet and crackling of flames accenting the darkened night sky as the orange glow illuminated their faces. Dressed in black, plating pressed against their chest as they heaved beneath the plumes of drifting smoke. Men, women, young and old, standing side by side as the marker of injustice burned fervently before their eyes. They had come inside under a cloak of darkness, fulfilling the oath they had taken alongside their comrades at arms to purge the holy city of all that stood in the day of true freedom. And as the mockery went up in flames, the passion in their hearts spiraled into an elation. "Alexsei, my friend, we did it." One muttered beneath the rag obscuring the lower half of his face, trying not to cough as the thick smoke whirled around them. One Simon Roberts stood among the enflamed structure, his eyes widened with awe as the flamed licked and danced their way up the walls. Sparkling displays of ember stricken wood came tumbling to the ground in splashes of splintered fragments, shattering upon impact with thunderous noise. When they gathered together in that room, all seemed to now be worth it. "Of course Simon, of course we made it." The taller of the pair speaking said in the same muffled tone, clasping a tough callused hand upon his fellow militiaman's shoulder. As they spoke the others began to erupt in cheers, staggering backwards from the increasingly violent fury bubbling up from the once stagnant and sturdy flooring of the Ministry of Justice. To them, it held an almost catharsis. It had all been building up to this, a valiant declaration of war and escalation of their conflict wrapped in secrecy. No nobody would call them, petty vandals, miscreants, or misguided, they were a threat. And they expected to be dealt with like one, what was once a joyous organization of dutifully dedicated detectives had turned against the blade that had struck them down. A product of Tyranny, a product of injustice. "The time for celebration comes later, brothers, for now we must go. Our message has been sent, and the pigs shall soon hear our voice." The one called Alexsei shouted out over the amassed band of terrorists, rallying them around his command and to the sound of his booming speech. The footsteps started once more, clattering to escape what was rapidly becoming a hellish inferno as the same men in black came streaming from the front of the building and across the streets of Oren. They all ran in the same step, trailing behind one another as they flew from the fire they sparked. And as screams erupted around them, calling for soldiers, calling for water, the perpetrators were already gone. Into the forest, out the back gate they ran, satisfaction plastered across each and every one of their usually grim and solemn faces. Simon had simply done as he was told, the book he scribbled in and the etchings in the rubble left by their knives making their voice heard. And as the dust settled, and the fire died, all that was left was their reminders. Their message. On a large stone brick, engraved carefully into its front facing side, in broad scratched in lettering it read, K "The Clock Strikes Six, and we march one step closer to freedom. The Nightmare will come to a close, a new dawn will rise. Viva Mercatore, may God Save Oren for nobody else can." The same message, plastered upon nearby walls, under benches, and in the stumps of trees. A war had begun, a quiet war. Only time will tell of it's conclusion. For now, the secret was revealed, the game could begin.

Looking for a House to join? Aye! If you are new to the server and want to connect with other players, bonding together... helping each other out. You are free to message me on discord to join our House, currently it has two members... Not a lot tbh, but we are rather new... It's located in Oren, and we accept only players from there. There's no restrictions on the age, gender of your character... You could be sibling/cousin/uncle, but you have to be a heartlander or at least from the human race.... Discord: Valecius#5323 ^^ Current Family Tree

AULIC COURT I VE KOENGZEM I HANSETI-RUSKA REVIEW ON THE PALATINES REQUEST REGARDING TRIALS 5th i Wzuvar ag Byvca 358 E.S Jovenaars Sir Sigmar J. Baruch Mrs. Reza B. Gynsburg Lady Erika L. Kortrevich Mr. Lukas Rakoczy Mr. Otto Wittenbach CONCURRENCE (MAJORITY): Baruch, Kortrevich, Wittenbach, Rakoczy, Gynsburg DISSENT: N/A Exposition: The Office of the Palatine sees fit to refer to the Aulic Court on the composition of trials, specifically trials with a need to be done quickly and efficiently in circumstances where three Jovenaar may not be available. The Palatine is thus considering several possibilities, including 'citizen' and 'non-citizen' or 'flight' trials: the former would be in cases where a Haeseni citizen is charged, and there is little danger of the charged citizen fleeing the Kingdom; the latter would be in cases where a suspect is charged and arrested but is liable to flee if court proceedings are delayed, thus giving rise to a need for quicker sittings of the Court with lesser Jovenaar. Another possible solution under consideration by the Palatine is that all trials will only require an odd number of Jovenaar. See the full brief of the Lord Palatine: Letter to the Aulic Court re Trials - Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska - The Lord Of The Craft Jovenaar Erika L. Kortrevich delivered the opinion of the Court: The Haurul Caezk 304.01 states: “Trials shall be presided over by three Jovenaar [...].” As for the Lord Palatine’s request to reduce the number of Jovenaar to an odd-numbered one in said “non-citizen or flight” trials, it would mean to reduce the numbers of Jovenaar presiding over a trial to one (1). Whilst the Aulic Court understands the demand of such trials in cases where the Defendant is guilty without doubt, it is the Court's belief that no person, but the Koeng of Hanseti-Ruska should have the power to determine an individual's guilt on their own accord and that the trinity of Jovenaar is essential to a fair and just trial under the Haurul Caezk, as it calls for a thorough consideration and consultation of the facts brought forth in each trial. Therefore we decided against the Lord Palatines request. IT IS SO ORDERED.

THE DEFEAT AT FORT HYSPIA @repl1ca @GoldWolfGaming @Zoprak_Visconti The tent had become increasingly crowded, as clergy from all corners ventured in to debate and cast a vote. Organizationally, the First Ecumenical Council of Albarosa was rather hectic. Clergymen voted despite being prohibited to in the first round, and the Chamberlain tallied them regardless. Arguments between those favouring the quick process, and others feeling constrained by it, erupted amidst ongoing discussions. The proposals formulated took the lives of four different interpretations by four different camps at least, to the pain of the fatigued High Pontiff. Yet despite it all: the council functioned, and the clergy were able to represent their views accordingly. Decisions were made, and the delegations could depart knowing they had done a good job. A mixed view on the quality of the council was not a bad view: and for Owyn III, who was still fresh on the Pontifical throne, such was sufficient. It seemed that every delegation achieved at least a minor victory, from canonizing their icons to stopping the beatifications of their foes. Jorenus saw its traditional opposition to reforms & bureaucracy to an electoral triumph, while the ecclesiastical puritans stopped Owyn III from needlessly re-authoring the old Canon Law. To a degree, His Holiness was pleased with seeing every party as partial victors from this council. But that pleasure wasn’t enough to quell a more profound sense of defeat. Once the council had concluded, all that Owyn III felt was the desire to take a fresh breath of air outside. As he walked towards the outskirts of Osanora, his hunting Castor Crossbow in hand: Manfried, Alfred & Antonius would sprint after him. For a moment Owyn III forgot that he was the Pontiff with the largest security entourage, he was now simply a man that didn’t get what he wanted. Aiming his crossbow at a faraway bird, the three would catch up to him. “Your Holiness..” Alfred spoke out of breath, going to stand besides him. “Ahh, Episcopus Henrikev.” Owyn III replied dryly, tilting his head in an attempt to aim “How fared the Albarosan council for you?" “It had fared well” Alfred smiled regaining his composure as the other two flanked him “not what ich expected, but it went well.” His Holiness would not see Alfred’s reassuring nod, as his eyes concentrated at the bird ahead “Episcopus, do you find me to be lacking a particular insight on certain ecclesiastical matters?” Alfred chuckled “Ich am sure that you wouldn’t be here, as the High Pontiff which only GOD ordains, not any other human..” he paused “if it weren’t for your insights, Your Holiness.” “Hmm.” Owyn III would freeze, putting his hand on the trigger “How about my style of leadership. The way I handle my responsibilities?” Alfred nodded once more “Nobody is perfect. But yours is satisfying and brings success, nein?” “Why then.” Owyn III would pull the trigger, the bolt penetrating the bird’s neck “Did I find you in opposition to nearly all my proposals?” Manfried eyed Alfred out of curiosity, as Antonius swallowed in anticipation: it had after all been a surprise for some in the Curia that a staunch ally of the High Pontiff turned against all of his proposals. The Bishop of Henrikev would clear his throat, now looking at the solemn face of Owyn as he had lowered his crossbow “Your Holiness, these were just mein honest responses. The geist of your proposals were good. But the way they were worded were too vague for my support. I hope you aren’t taking this personally?” Owyn III sighed, now fully looking at Alfred “Of course not. I called a council to hear what you had to say, not to hear my thoughts spoken through your mouth.” “Exactly Your Holiness.” Antonius smiled, clasping his hands behind his back “this is no different from when the Curia disagrees with you, no?” “Yeah, yeah.” Owyn III chuckled slightly, reloading his crossbow “I suppose I should be desensitized to disagreements by now.” “I’m happy that you’re not, Your Holiness.” Manfried interjected “A human Pontiff is the best thing the faith can wish for.” And with that, the quartet of fatigued clerics would return to their carriages: heading home to their respective dioceses. Throughout the journey Owyn III struggled to place the council in his head. He felt disappointed at the results, but he didn’t regret proposing them. He felt solemn, yet reassured by the words of his clergy. “I guess it was a defeat.” he mumbled to himself, placing his head against the carriage window “but an okay one, I suppose.”

Hello friends and foes of LoTC! I hope that my post finds you all well, that the new year has been kind to you thus far and that you find yourselves in the best of health. It is my sincere hope that you are all safe and sound with your loved ones (or your pets). With the coming of the new year I found myself back on this wonderful server nearly three years after I took a hiatus. Much has changed and I felt like the type and quality of roleplay that we have had has changed as well, to my pleasant surprise! I grew nostalgic of my early days of playing on the server back in 2014-2015. Alongside the updated mechanics and progress in the world lore, I felt that it was the perfect opportunity to breathe life into House Visconti; which I had the pleasure of representing off and on at earlier times. I plan to compile a Master-guide to Illatian and Visconti roleplay by the end of next week and give the RP announcement about our current position and plans. In order to help me make this a reality, I decided to reach out to you, the LoTC community. I was dissatisfied with the information I was able to collect thus far because: Some key players lost access to their drives and their precious documents. Some key players became inactive and unreachable. Primary-source forum posts are very aged and difficult to follow. Secondary-source information is often skewed and distorted. We have a list of tertiary characters holding the family name who I cannot place in our family tree. I wanted to write this post and ask those of you who have played a House Visconti (or Illatian persona) to kindly reply to this forum post and aid me in my project by sending me links to the documents (or forum posts) that they do have or by contacting me on my Discord: Zoprak#3499. Character sheets and family trees are required. Secondary sources mentioning or referencing the family members and their activities are needed. Documents outlining family activities are appreciated. Miscellaneous documents, photographs, screenshots and skins are not necessary but would help fill in the gaps in the lore. Thank you for your time and assistance, I look forward to roleplaying with you all in the coming weeks. To those of you who are facing an upcoming semester I wish the best of luck and amazing grades. Please do not hesitate to contact me. Best regards, Zoprak (Antonius Mihailo Visconti) (P.S Dear Moderators, I apologise if this is in the wrong section, please transfer it to the appropriate place if need be, I am a returning player and I am still unsure where to place my forum posts that are OOC).

MISSION SYSTEM OF URGUAN Massive dwarven scrolls would be pinned to notice boards around the Realm of Arcas. Through the strength and cooperation of the Legion of Urguan, we have created a system for the Mission Board that enables the citizens of Urguan to fulfill their duty to the Kingdom. Each mission entails the mission’s coding for difficulty, location, reward, and the contact you’ll need to begin your work. This new Realm of Almaris is one we’ll need to explore and protect together for the good of all dwarves. “If you want to travel fast, go alone, if you want to travel far and beat the **** out of anything that stands in your path, go with your shield brothers” -Ancient Legionnaire Proverb MISSION CATEGORIES Red: Legion Orange: Urguan Green: Hefrumm Gold: Clans MISSION CODINGS Dark Red: PVP Light Blue: Magic RP LEGION MISSIONS Available for only Legionnaires INDIVIDUAL MISSIONS GROUP MISSIONS MORE MISSIONS & EVENTS COMING SOON KINGDOM MISSIONS Available for all Dwarves GUILDS INSTITUTIONS HEFRUMM MISSIONS Available for all Dwarves (Each mission coincides with Hefrumm’s caste system) URGUANI CLANS Available for all Dwarves APPLICATION The Grand Kingdom Mission Board is always open for those who wish to enlist the help of their brethren. To apply for a task to be received on the board, simply fill out and submit an application as seen below. You will be contacted by Grand Marshal Dimlin Irongut within a few stone days. ~x~ Mission Name: Color Coding (Refer to the Color Key at the beginning of the post for reference) Individual or Group Mission: Requirements: Mission Start: Mission Description: Mission Rewards: Thank you to @Dhaelena @SoulReapingWolf @BDanecker@Luciloo @Titanium430 @Masouri @Elite_Snipes_ @Lady_Dietz @Willstertheking2for the massive help with this post

AULIC COURT OF THE KINGDOM OF HANSETI-RUSKA REVIEW ON THE LEGISLATIVE PROCESS OF REPEATING PROPOSALS 5th of Wzuvar & Byvca, 355 E.S. Jovenaars Sir Sigmar J. Baruch Ms. Reza B. Gynsburg Mr. Otto Wittenbach Mr. Lukas Rakoczy MAJORITY: Rakoczy, joined by Gynsburg CONCURRENCE: Wittenbach DISSENT: Baruch Exposition A multitude of acts are rejected at the behest of the Duma vote, as has been seen in recent years. The Josefian reforms have also brought a period of great change to the procedure of the Duma. However, as the Duma cannot legislate on itself (see Aulic Court Review: Relationship Between the Royal Duma and the Aulic Government), this request for review must be issued. As a sitting member of the Duma, and peer of the realm, the Duke of Valwyck sees fit to defer to the Aulic Court for a legal opinion on the following: The Haurul Caezk states that a bill of the Royal Duma must be passed by majority vote and may become law with the confirmation of the Koeng following its majority vote, implicating that it is failed when said bill does not reach these requisites: 212.01: Members of the Duma may submit bills to the Royal Duma that must be passed by majority vote; 212.042: Once passed with a majority vote, a legislative bill shall require assent from the Crown to become binding law; The question that should be raised is whether or not a bill that has failed to reach these requisites after being introduced in the Duma should have the ability to be reintroduced, unaltered, in the Duma sessions following its failure, including the cohort contrary to the one it was first presented in. See the full amicus brief from Lord Matyas Baruch: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/197497-letter-to-the-aulic-court-353-es/ Jovenaar Lukas Rakoczy delivered the opinion of the court; The dispute focuses primarily on the question of whether legislation that has failed once may be re-introduced without modification during a meeting of another cohort. Even though noble cohorts have since been removed from the structure of the Royal Duma at the time of publication, the court still finds it pertinent to offer a judgement on this matter. It is the belief of the Aulic Court that the Royal Duma may not re-introduce failed legislation without major modification during the same four-year session. Any legislation that passes the Duma does so with the consent of the people, with legislators voting on behalf of and as the representatives of the people and the peers. Legislation that fails to pass, therefore, has clearly failed to attain the consent and support of the people, and to re-introduce such legislation would be to subvert the will of the people. Jovenaar Sigmar J. Baruch in dissent; On the dispute of re-introducing legislation without modification after failure to pass, this Jovenaar finds that through decades of set precedent and no objections to the matter found within the Haurul Caezk, it would be unprecedented and detrimental to the ability of the Royal Duma to restrict members of the body from introducing bills to the floor. Furthermore, it is not the place of the Aulic Courts to legislate on the abilities of members of the Royal Duma which directly affects their service within the Duma, it is only the Aulic Courts place to protect precedent, and interpret the Law. It is the ability of Duma members to introduce legislation in hopes of it becoming written law, therefore we should not restrict the capacity in which members can do this and take part in the writing and introducing of legislation. IT IS SO ORDERED.

Buck hastily throws today's buck news to everyone in crumpled balls.

Newsfrogs hop around haense, a buck news taped to each one. You reach down and unfold the dirty paper.

[!] A banner is posted outside the gates of the grand library of Dragur. A small, black spider is drawn at the top of it. O r b - w e a v e r ’ s T a i l o r i n g Greetings to those who read this. This message goes out to all who require the services of an experienced tailor, whether you find yourself in need of functional everyday clothes, dashing formal attire, or old clothing modified and mended. However, I am not a metalworker or a leatherworker, so I will not manufacture suits of armor. (However, clothing may include pieces of metal such as buttons, buckles, and possibly pauldrons.) Expansions, contractions, and patch jobs are done entirely seamlessly. P r i c i n g Patch jobs begin at a minimum of 20 mina, based on magnitude of the blemish or tear, and whether or not matching material was provided. Expansions and contractions begin at a minimum of 100 mina based on how much the clothing is to be expanded or contracted. And for expansions, whether or not matching material was provided. (With contractions, the fabric that had been taken out of the clothing will be returned to you.) Tailor-made clothing begins at a minimum of 600 mina based on complexity of clothing, quality of material, amount of material, and whether or not the material was provided. Prices and pricing criteria are subject to change over time as I see fit. Pricing terms shall be decided after we meet in person to discuss your commission. You are welcome to propose a trade as well. I will only take on one commission at a time, at least for now. Contact through Dragur Library | Elwrick Albright OOC: