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Found 70 results

  1. All Things Must Pass https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNYc-443G6E The old Wizard would stand before a roiling hellish torrent of the Voidal Tear as bodies lay strewn before him. The smell of hellfire and magic filled the air as creatures of the Empyrean had struck his party a decisive and terrible blow. Visions of Aegis would cloud his mind as the smells and hellscape looked all too familiar to a time he had so long forgotten. Ithrendas Regis (Tahmas) and Steven (spodokaiba) already journeying into the heart of the storm in an attempt to close shut the jaws of the infernal opening that wrented a deep wound into the realm. But had not returned and Ceruberr (Captainsheepy) had been captured by a Voidal Horror, one of the neverborn monstrosities of the darkest reaches of the Voidal realms whom only referred to itself as the “Displacer”. The party was weak, the creature seemed impenetrable to the magical spells cast against it, merely absorbing them and sending them flying straight back towards them. All the while the monster would feed upon the mystical energies of Ceruberr to not only fuel itself but to hijack the Elf’s advanced knowledge of the Arcane to turn upon his aggressors. Enveloping himself in an Arcane shield he would move mysteriously from place to place in a blink of an eye, phasing in and out of existence all the while taunting us as “lessers”. The creature was toying with us, and we all knew it. But we continued to fight regardless to its protests. Until the moment when the old man allowed foolhardiness to get the better of him… The Wizard would watch as the creature stood before the cliff top carrying Ceruberr within its hand, a mystical Arcane shield about it the old man saw that there was little that could be done. But he thought he could best the creature still and prepared one last incantation, a bolt of pure Arcane energy, he knew it would be fruitless to target the monster, but if he could not target the beast he would instead target the very ground on which it stood. The cliffside! Summoning all his might he would through the bolt at the cliff, a flash of Octarine brilliance would shimmer across the chasm of which they stood followed by a sudden hissing crack of chimes as the bolt found its target, destroying the cliff face and causing the creature to lose its footing. It was at this moment that the old man realised what he had done, as he watched both the monster and Ceruberr fall into the roiling torrent below. He thought perhaps that Ceruberr had already succumbed to his ordeal but it did not matter. For as such thoughts raced through his mind he suddenly found himself upon the floor, collapsed. He had strained himself heavily and his ancient body could not tolerate such abuse without protest. He lay slumped upon the dead and lifeless void-kissed landscape next to the portal as he could only watch Ceruberr fall to what he assumed was his doom with the creature behind him. His ears were ringing but he could hear the cries of others of his party as he heard another voice disappear down below. To his dismay he could only barely peer over and ask “What is it? What’s happening?” To which the party merely replied “It’s Saeldur! (_princeton_) It’s Saeldur! He has jumped down after his brother Ceruberr!” A great pang of dread and guilt would fill within the old man’s throat as he tried to swallow. Only to find himself incapable. “No…” He thought to himself. “Oh my Aeriel and the Sages above no… What have I done?” The old man would sit by the side of the roiling portal to oblivion as silence would drift over the battlefield for the first time in a long while. The deaths of colleagues, two friends no less of the Celestial order, members of his order. Now hung above his head. “Aeriel… oh Aeriel what have I wrought?” The old man could only grumble and serve a murmur before saying “That fool… that foolish fool!” Saeldur’s fate was certain, his death assured. The old man panged with guilt gritted his teeth as he thought to himself, “What a fool I am! A servant of the realm? I just let two boys I’ve known since their youth die by my hand! What kind of servant am I? To be so reckless? Blundermore the Wise, Blundermore the Sage, Blundermore the Guardian, Blundermore the Wizard. Bah!” He would think sarcastically to himself. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yD9r0q3Cey4 At that moment a thought passed through his mind as he remembered from earlier, when the creatures of the Voidal tear attempted to bargain with the party prior to the horrid business of war. The old wizard’s mind raced as he tried to think of something, anything, to save them. “What can I trade? What do I have to bargain?” He would think, until suddenly it dawned upon him… Letting out a gruffled demand he would call out “Creature? Are you still present?” He would immediately feel the presence of the being, despite being invisible to the naked eye it would be all too clear that at the very least the creature could hear him. “You speak of bargains and trades before… well, I have a bargain for you!”. The old wizard would breath heavily as his chest had been damaged by the prior battle. He would continue heaving as he said “Saeldur and the others… they do not deserve this fate.” Master Sage Elvira (Farryn) would look on with a face of shock as she heard the Ancient Ascended speak before she realised what was going on. Her eyes widening she would say with admission; “….Blundermore… you're not saying…? A life for a life….? We don’t even know if he’s still alive!” The old wizard would struggle to keep himself upright as he would pause for a moment as he contemplated what he was doing before finally replying to Elvira: “I've lived far longer than I have had any right to… and seen things that no man should have ever seen. I'm old… beyond my years and outstayed my welcome. A worn and tattered old thing of several bygone eras. All things must end, but their lives? No… their's cannot end yet. Not this way and certainly not by my hand!”. Remorse would grip the old man as he would let out a choked tear to the loss of Ceruburr and Saeldr. He could feel that the interest of the entity had been peaked immensely at what he was about to propose. He could feel the very air hanging upon his every word as he spoke and he knew that this would be the only way. “Creature… if it is in your power to save them from death, I implore you to do so. And in return... I shall go with you to wherever it is you shall wish to take me.” Elvira Naromis-Iyliar would merely watch on in horror as a mentor and a dear friend would put himself onto the bargaining table. Her usual calm and serene demeanor just simply beginning to break apart. She takes a deep breath and she merely nods in agreement, knowing that the Creed of Aeriel is very clear, she knew all too well as Master Sage of the Ascended order that penance must be paid in order to satisfy this transgression on Blundermore’s honor. The old Wizard would continue: “What say you? The life and service of the last anointed Sage of Aeriel, the Second Wizard of Aegis and Master of the Celestial Order, to do with as you wish?” The silence would be deafening as if the whole world has simply stopped a-gasped at what was said, the mere utterance of those words reeling upon the now quiet of the turmoil below them of the Arcane Voidal fissure. The old wizard could however see that the creature was contemplating his request with quite some glee even if the others could not. Soon the voice would speak against towards Blundermore “That is… something.. I will trade you for.” Soon, there would be almost a ripple in the world, as the air around seems to almost go a weird black. Breathing he would now know that the bargain had been struck. The table had been set and he would have to make good on what he had promised. Summoning all the strength he had left he would attempt to stand. https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/569512564627734551/587838817994539039/2019-06-11_14.56.56.png “Help me stand up” He would say as Kazrin Starbreaker (Drhope) would come to his aid, helping him to stand upright. Trying to keep his composure he would straighten himself out, despite the pain in his chest and the screaming coming from all over his body telling him that there was nothing left to give… no… not nothing, there was still something left worth giving. He would think to himself. Sollumnly Kazrin would merely be only able to utter “Yehll beh remembered... Blundermore.” Elvira would stand firm as she looks the Ancient directly in the eyes, attempting to keep what little composure she had left going: “…I will ensure that the future generations of the Ascended never forget you and what you did on this say, Sage Blundermore…. Archaengul guide you, old friend,” she seems to hold back tears as she said such. There would be a ripple, as suddenly a portal would appear. A straight drop that the wizard can simply fall into. “Jump.. And you will come with me.. You will follow around in the void.. Blundermore.. It'll be a great time for everyone involved..” A snicker would almost fill the land. Dark, chaotic energy filling over the area where Saeldur had fallen into. Turning to look to the portal for a moment the old Wizard would be gripped by fear for the first time in an age… fear of the unknown. Fear of the end, it was close now, he thought, “I can feel it, Aeriel give me strength for what is to come.” Looking towards those who remained upon that bloody field he would hazard a smile as he looks wearily towards the group. “It has been… a great journey, and the greatest pleasure to serve this realm. This world filled with such wonderful and brilliant men women and children whom I have had the greatest pleasure of meeting. I’ve seen entire realms destroyed only for them to tenaciously continue on, continue to endure when by rights we all should’ve died in Aegis. But there comes a time when all must meet their fate. If this is to be mine, then I shall go into it gladly knowing I stood amongst such fine people.” The swirling dark chaotic energy would almost rise Saelunor from the ground. The energy within the lands shocking the body. As it would basically rise from the lands.. Though it stays there. Motionless for the time “It is time, ‘Wizard’. Our bargain awaits.” the entity would say with malevolent glee... Looking towards the portal once more he would steel himself for what was to come, slowly he would hand his stave to the party before him and would carefully set his wizard hat upon the ground as he would solemnly say https://youtu.be/zCEAB2lztCM “I suppose I will not be needing these, wherever I am going… “ “Farewell, Narvak oz Blundermore.” Kazrin would say. “We shall meet again within the halls of Haven to take her side in the afterlife” Elvira would say with duty. Honor and duty… honor and duty. Virtues he has strived for for so long, and now it would lead him to whatever bitter end awaited him. Honour shall be satisfied, that is all that matters now. As the wizard would step backwards onto the precipice of the portal he would find himself awashed suddenly with a calmness he had not felt in a long while… perhaps Sage Miaviel his predecessor was with him in spirit. A comforting feeling to know that he would not take this perhaps final journey alone. Standing upon the edge of oblivion he would look towards the group as he clasped his hands together “All things pass” He would say smiling “Let this be not a sad end”. ”Farewell...” Closing his eyes he would allow himself to slip backwards off the precipise and into the jaws of Oblivion below… and with that the Wizard of Aegis disappeared into nothing to realms unknown. Taken by the Displacer. “All things must pass.” -Blundermore Patrick WindRaker, The Wizard of Aegis. ((A big shout out to Mystery and everyone else present at the voidal tear event this evening! Was great fun!))
  2. A Drunken Night Issued and Confirmed by Her Royal Highness of the Principality of Cresonia, 6th of Snow’s Maiden, 1721 [!] A mouth-watering depiction of the cuisine that would be served during the feast. Laughter and joy could be heard while rebuilding the city of Cresonia in the Korvassa. The warm Sun warmed the citizens and its people as they prepared for another day of hard work. Wooden tables were being constructed inside the palace as flowers adorned them all in painted clay vases. The royal chefs worked hard to prepare the food for the feast to come. The lovely smell seeping out and into the streets of the city. A small flock of doves sent out from a window in the palace, letters tied around their feet as they flapped their wings. Posters being hung up all around Arcas to inform them all. ”You are hereby invited to attend the feast to celebrate Cresonia’s square having been almost finished in the city that will happen in four saint’s day. The celebration will start off with a welcoming to our guests and will be shown their way into the palace. Afterwards the great feast will start to fill your bellies after the long walk to Cresonia. Music shall be played alongside this for your entertainment. We hope to see you there.” Signed, Her Royal Highness, Asria of House Nasrid, High Princess of Cresonia [!]The following list of friends and allies who gained their personal invitations from the doves[!] The Imperial family of Imperium Renatum The Soaher of Haelun’or, Dimaethor Visaj The Royal family of the Kingdom of Curonia His Serenity, Matthias Othan Rutledge, Prince of Ves The Royal family of the Principality of Rosenyr Her Ladyship, Victoria Alexandria Staunton of Courland The Royal family of the Kadarsi OOC: The event will be on Sunday 22th June, 3 PM EST (8 PM GMT). Cords: -1341, 45, 453 (if you get confused go first to Sutica before using the cords or pm me.) Written by MissToni
  3. A DENOUNCEMENT OF A FALSE BARROW 9th of Tobia’s Bounty, 1720 A Denouncement, Disavowment, and Disinheritment In recent days, the presence of one Siegmar Tuvic Barrow has been brought to my attention. This man, who claims natural descent from Tuvya var Joren Ruthern, also claims the blood of warriors and leaders - all men and women that have been remembered in the Book of Rutherns. His claim is false and frivolous in every sense of the word. His words are the unlawful and unjust claim of centuries of history, centuries both long recorded and long forgotten. And so, heretofore, Siegmar Tuvic is stripped of any association to the House of Ruthern, by name and the ilk. It is also declared that any further claim by Siegmar Tuvic to try and take on the Ruthern name, a Barrow name subsequently drawing relation to the House of Ruthern, or any equivalent and further claim to suggest himself a part of my kin or lineage, will be treated as slander and punished as such. I believe this to be the most rightful way to correct his mistake. ”By Bones and Barrows” SIGNED, His Grace, Viktor Sigismund var Ruthern, Duke of Vidaus, Count of Metterden, Baron of Rostig, Lord of Ivanhall and Helmholtz, and Protector of the South
  4. THE REESTABLISHMENT OF THE BLACK COMPANY 12th of Horen’s Calling, 1720 Preamble It is with a heavy heart that my hand is forced in the writing of this document. It seems to me that the Renatians at our doorstep will stop at nothing to restrict the livelihood of my people and the people of the larger Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska. As such, I have opted to follow in my ancestors footsteps in the founding of a levy in accordance with the Lord Regent’s suspension of the Royal Levy Ban of 1709. Actuation It is now that I, Viktor Sigismund var Ruthern, Duke of Vidaus, follow in the actions of my forefathers in the recreation of the Black Company, a military levy sworn to the House of Ruthern and its incumbent Patriarch. The history of such a name is great in length. It has been associated with victory over would-be oppressors in the Rothswood and the protection of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska and its monarchs throughout centuries prior. I fully intend such a brigade to live up to its name and rise to prominence in the Kingdom as bannermen of the House of Ruthern. It shall be led by an appointed Captain, chosen by myself and my successors in the post of Patriarch of Ruthern. This Captain will be assisted by various others, which will be detailed below. Structure The Black Company, as said, will be led by a Captain appointed and loyal to the incumbent Patriarch of Ruthern. This position will be succeeded by several Lieutenants and Sergeants, which will serve as the Company’s core of proven individuals entrusted to lead the Company to victory. Masters-at-Arms, Men-at-Arms, and Footmen will come to form the main body and core of the Black Company’s force. All men in the Black Company will be charged with the defense of the common individual of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska and the Kingdom at large. The Company will exist in perpetuity and will serve the incumbent Lord of Ruthern to the best of their ability. In Closing I regret the need arising for such a Company to be formed, but I cannot let the people of Hanseti-Ruska continue to be oppressed by those based in Helena. Until a better candidate arises, I will lead the Black Company as Captain. The post will be transferred to the next viable candidate at the earliest convenience. Any and all men and women intent on serving the Black Company are encouraged to seek out myself or any other in the Black Company via bird or in person. ”By Bones and Barrows” SIGNED, His Grace, Viktor Sigismund var Ruthern, Duke of Vidaus, Count of Metterden, Baron of Rostig, Lord of Ivanhall and Helmholtz, and Protector of the South
  5. The Party at the End of War ”Rejoice! Rejoice! Peace has covered our lands!” yelled one of those indescribable couriers that roamed the lands, a letter delivered to all those Fennic or Friend ”To the good people of Arcas, I shall be hosting a party at the Silver Snowflake within the city of Fenn, there we shall drink, rejoice and relax now that our war is over, if you wish for narcotics I will have some on hand but I suggest you do bring your own if you want a larger stock, drinks are a mere three small mina so take a little purse with you too, we’ll also try to get some food on hand so you can leave happy with some potatoes!” ”Do read the rules though, I shan’t let vagabonds spoil this celebration!” ((Party will be Saturday 4pm est, 9pm for us brits, and uh yeah aussies good luck))
  6. The southernmost islands of Arcas offer habitat to a wide variety of vile creatures and beasts alike, who have been otherwise relegated from the rest of the realm. The jungles the islands play host to have done well in fostering a large population of swine, specifically feral and ever aggressive boars. There is strength in number -- which works both ways. It is advised that any huntsman or trapper comes with an adequately prepared party should they wish to leave in a condition similar to the one they arrived in, granted they are able to leave at all. CREATURE NAME OR OBJECTIVE – BOAR LOCATION – JUNGLE ISLAND THREAT LEVEL – INTERMEDIATE REWARD – 50 MINAS PER BOAR SLAIN (CAP OF 500) PROGRESSION SYSTEM (IF APPLICABLE) – TIME ((Contact me via a forum message, or on Discord – Defy#9532
  7. Primrose Kortrevich and Ser Ulric Vyronov sit side by side at the small table within the Kortrevich manor’s sitting room, looking over wedding plans. The ring upon the young woman’s finger glitters as she shifts a sheet of parchment out of the way. “Hmm…” she murmurs, taking a last glance at the files before them. “I s’pose we ought to send out invitations, we ain’t have much time left.” she glances up to Ulric. He smiles back at her before reaching across the table for a stack of blank parchment. “Yes,” he agrees, drawing the paper towards them. Primrose picks up her quill, dipping it in an inkwell. “Shall we invite everyone, then?” she inquires with another look at Ulric. “I don’t see why not.” he replies. She nods, hesitantly bringing pen to parchment. In large, lovely scripted lettering she writes, ‘The Union of Houses Vyronov and Kortrevich’. After observing her writing for a moment, she gives a brief, satisfied nod before continuing. “We hereby invite you…” she mutters as she writes. The letter reads as follows. To all Haeseni men and women it may interest, we hereby invite you to the Wedding of Ser Ulric Vyronov and Primrose Kortrevich. We wish to request your attendance to support the union of this young man and lady. As well as to relish the night of excitement and celebration with us. The ceremony will be held within Reza’s lovely chapel, The Basilica of Saint Rudolph in The First Seed of 1720. We hope to see you there! Signed, Primrose Salina Kortrevich Ser Ulric Vyronov Primrose finishes writing and holds the first sheet of parchment away from her face, scrutinizing it. She glances to the awaiting stack of unwritten papers with a sigh. “This is going to take a while.” she complains as she signs her name, sliding it over for Ulric to do the same. Ulric then rolls the page up, tying it with a red ribbon. “Yes,” he nods in agreement, “but it’ll be worth it.” He kisses the top of her head as he stands, walking towards the corner of the room where an iron cage sits. He opens the door, tying the rolled note to the leg of the small speckled dove within. Ulric then opens the window, sending the first invitation fluttering out into the sunlit streets of Reza. OOC Info: 7pm EST on Friday the 14th of June Reza, Haense in The Basilica of Saint Rudolph
  8. [!] A poorly written and grammatically flawed propaganda leaflet would be flying through the wind. AH MESSAGE TER ALL BIGGUNS ~The PROUD and MIGHTY Brandybrook Navy prepares to set sail towards uncharted waters, led by Sheriff and Captain Deek Driftwood~ ((yes, we’re aware that the dock looks bad)) Madness has claimed all of the biggun lands with all this new talk of war ‘n crud! Us halflings, being the greatest warriors for peace ever to be known, must stop this before it begins! Even more terrible is the lack of pipe smoking and festival-hosting in biggun lands! Not only are these bigguns nay living peacefully, they are nay having fun either! Dear Bigguns, if you keep on having war and nay having any good ol’ pipe-smokin’ festival-hostin’ fun, us halflings will march on ye biggun lands and DESTROY YOU with our peaceful ways once and for all! Surrender at once, for you have nay chance against our superiors forces of goodness! Now that we have ah fully functional volleyball net and more halflings than ye can count on two hands, our way o’ life will sureleh conquer t’eh evil biggun ways of injustice and wrongdoing! Surrender a’ once ‘n submit ter peace lest the halflings win over yer peasant population and force ye ter live happily and peacefully once again! Thus, us halflings submit t’a following demands: ALL BIGGUN NATIONS MUST STOP FIGHTING EACH OTHER IMMEDIATELY ALL BIGGUN NATIONS MUST ENCOURAGE THEIR POPULATION TO SMOKE, EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY ALL BIGGUN NATIONS MUST STRIVE TOWARDS HAPPINESS INSTEAD O’ IMPERIALISTIC AIMS If t’eh aforementioned demands are nay fulfilled, us wee folks will be vereh vereh mad! We’d take our ship ‘n sail over ter ya cities ‘n hurl cakes a’ them ‘till yer so busy eating our food yeh forge’ abou’ the war! ‘N order ter avoid such ah terrible fa’e, surrender ter t’eh halflin’s a’ once ‘n lay down yah weapons ferevah more! T’a Prank War that would result o’ nay following our demands would never let ye see the end of it! [!] The leaflet finishes with a single signature and an Official Brandybrook Seal that appears to have been stolen. Signed, Deek Driftwood, Sheriff o’ Brandybrook. ((We’ll be doing another Pumpkin Raid at 2 PM EST tomorrow using the Salty Salmon boat))
  9. In mid Malin’s Welcome, a posting was put up on accessible bulletin boards across Arcas. A few of the postings were put atop each other, so that the copies could be taken by people who had access to the more inaccessible ones. Each one was carefully written and read as follows: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Danger of the Voidal Tear Early this Malin’s Welcome of 1719, our party of druids traveled to a site of great voidal damage and spreading blight. In the interest of safety for all and the closing of this tear, I share what I have learned from our experience. After having the fortune of meeting some friendly dwarves there and being joined by others, we were all attacked by four monstrous creatures. These beings possessed great strength, one could move around in a mist-like form and sent those who it touched flying. I have no doubt that our group did not even see the full range of their abilities. I expect as well that more of the creatures exist closer to the tear itself. After we defeated those that came against us, we were able to gather some information from an arriving man called Styxius the Wizard. Killing the creatures will not close the tear, it is being opened by a power source unknown to us. All the creatures that were slain will only re-emerge from the tear in time to once more threaten all. He also informed us that we were not the first group to have such an encounter, and I expect we won’t be the last. So I write now to warn others, and ask that those who know anything more will also share their knowledge for all to see and know. Signed, Marie Woollyfoot. Lamb Druid of the Talus Grove
  10. Hello there, if you’ve recieved a signed Gold Doubloon with my name on it you can exchange it here or trough discord! Each item costs 1 coin, please consider that these are meant to be used in the Naval Storyline, so see them as Story Items, not as Trophy items! The items are exchanged in RP, so make sure you grab the right persona to claim the items!
  11. From the office of the Imperial Chamberlain, I have assumed the position of court Chamberlain on the 6th of Horen’s Calling, 1718. His Imperial Majesty, Godfrey III., has entrusted me with overseeing the management, growth and restoration of the imperial court from the state in which it was left due to the war and the all-too-recent siege of Helena. I solemnly swear to fulfill this responsibility to my utmost capabilities and opportunities. Three short announcements I will make pertaining both the citizenry of the Renatian Empire and the present Imperial court: To the present and prospective Servantry of the Palace, In line with the noble audit of the realm, I will be conducting a parallel, albeit far less serious and grandiose inspection of present employees and residents of the Rubrummagnus. I wish to meet each of you for proper introductions. Those who seek employment in any rudimentary position at the palace may seek me out or pen me a letter and arrange for a meeting at the earliest convenience. To the Ladies of the Court who reside at the palace, I would like to invite you one-by-one to tea and a discussion pertaining the court, your individual personas and backgrounds as well as your ambitions in the Empire. Specifically, there have been multiple requests communicated towards me prior to my appointment related to a debutante ball and the restoration of proper courting traditions. To the Esteemed Nobility of the Realm, Let it be known that I am open to aid you and your courts in various matters, and also gladly co-operate with the esteemed vassal-courts of the Imperium. The Empire is bound together by something more than martial might; a sense of unity which is ought to be reinforced and cemented further in the following years, especially as victory against the rebels draws closer. For any matters related to court, advice, etiquette, host-organisation, or medical aid you may pen me a letter and I will seek to attend to your individual courts as soon as I am able to. Renatus exsultabo in sempiternum, OOC Contact information: IGN: Medvekoma (or) Reaganism Discord: Ronald Reagan#9284 Likely around EU time (daily until 5pm EST)
  12. Wanted: ‘Boney the Twin Sea-Serpents’ Threat level: The threat is not to be underestimated and most likely to be handled only by experienced sailors. Suggested party number: 7+ Description of beast: The full extend of this sea-creature is unknown, altough wherever it appears the ocean water becomes dark & cloudy. Location: South-East Ocean of Arkas Rewards: Coin Reward & Special Items Message D4NNA#6850 to schedule this Bounty!
  13. ~*<>*~ The National Shogging League ~*<>*~ Basic Rules & Background Shogging is a Halfling sport, or game, which has persisted throughout the ages. It’s name comes from the two words ‘Shovel’ and ‘Logs’ from it’s two primary ingredients. Shogging was created in Branborough by the Elder Halfling Tibb Fairfield when the village was under a draught of boredom, and a new game was needed. In the game of shogs, two logs of equal length (Generally three Halfling feet, or three ‘blocks’ as bigg’uns call them) are put into a body of water. Two opponents (usually Halflings) will climb on top of either log, and place a carved pumpkin on their heads. When the signal is given, both players attempt to shove the other off of their log using a wooden shovel. Falling into the water counts as an ‘out’. The game is usually played as ‘best two out of three’ in points. The Goal There are four teams, each team will be assigned an opponent team to begin the season. The two winning teams will then face each other. The winner of the final match will be given the championship title. Championship team will win: The Bucca Cup, And have their names added to it 500 minas (split among teammates) The runner ups will win: 200 minas (split among teammates) The two losing teams will both win: 100 minas (split among teammates) Teams Illegal Moves/Tactics Sign Up Info: Primary Shogger Name: Secondary Shogger Name Desired Team Color: -------------------------------------------- Additional inf: Halflings get first claim on signup, other race only if we have space Equipment is supplied Bucca D Willowswamp will be referee Times may be negotiated ((OOCly for player to work out!))
  14. What the absolute **** is up, it’s me Dingo, the NEW ST Event manager and here to make some bounds and leaps onto the server. I’m going to be personally pursuing some changes in how events are done and removing the former stigma that the team was associated with. This will be a short and sweet announcement, I’m here to simply advertise that the ST Event Sect are looking for more members, specifically two or three depending on the quality of the candidates (you can apply here: click me). If you were denied in the most recent run, please do not apply again. Otherwise, I’m really excited to see those who have wanted to make a true impact on the server come over and help with the plans I have in store. A rough gist of what I’m aiming to have roll out over the next few months are - - Bounty Board Reforms - Ambient Event Chains (It’s obscure for a reason) - The beginning of world/narrative events written and driven by @Xarkly himself. With this in mind, feel free to shame me if I don’t deliver on at least one of these promises. I’m really looking forward to doing some hopefully good **** on this server. Once the team is completely operational, we’ll be expanding into other areas to make the world seem more alive. A big objective for my management. Also welcome the first wave of new ST-Actors. Most are veteran ETs and will do great. @Werew0lf @TheGayGuardian2 @[email protected] @SpodoKaiba @Treshure
  15. The Silver Calendar of The Amber Cold, 1717 to Sun’s Smile 1718 Issued 1st of Amber Cold Marriage of Elisven Vallei’ibar and Illiran Drennan The Deep Cold Interwoven leather bound invitations would be hand delivered to those invited to the wedding: “The Blessed Silver Union of Elisven Vallei’ibar and Illiran Drennan will commence during The Deep Cold and the blessed citizenry of Haelun’or are encouraged to attend. Their union will be held in the Eternal Library and is to be celebrated afterward in the tavern with food and Drennan Wine. Those in attendance should bring gifts and thoughts to discuss the bearing of crotchfruit.” Signed, Okarir’tayna Caestella Valarieth Illiran Drennan Elisven Vallei’ibar [[ May 28th, 2019 4:00pm EST/ 21:00 CET]] Picnic in the Park Snow’s Maiden Delicately written notes would be handed to passerbyers via a ‘thill oem’ii are as shown: “Citizens of Haelun’or this is a formal invitation to a nation-wide picnic in Friendship Park. Guests are asked to bring food, drinks and their purest selves. There will be blankets, food, and drinks available and layed out for all.” Signed, Okarir’tayna Caestella Valarieth [[ May 29th, 2019 2:30pm EST / 19:30 CET ]] Fencing Competition The Amber Cold Sighs are hung in various social hubs around the city that state the following: “Vivacious Mali’aheral and Sillumir with a taste for fighting and competition, you are being formally summoned to Berr’lin’s first fencing competition. The fencing competition will consist of a friendly competition to show who is the best fencer and swordsman in all of the blessed elcihi'thilln. It will take place in the square of Berr’lin. The winner will receive a bottle of Visaj Red and one hundred minas. Afterwards, there will be a celebration in the tavern for the camaraderie of the participants.” Signed, Okarir’tir Elrion Visaj Okarir’tayna Caestella Valarieth [!] This is a pvp tournament not a combat rp. [[May 30th, 2019 4:00pm EST/ 21:00 CET]] Masquerade For Honor and Glory The Grand Harvest Invitations would be written in cursive red ink on silver paper as follows: “Dearest citizens of Haelun’or, you are formally invited to the For Honor and Glory Masquerade Ball. The ball is to celebrate the recent accomplishments of the Mali’thill’s maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. Guests are asked to keep the theme to Red and Silver and bring a masquerade mask. The event will be held in the newly constructed ballroom. There will be an endless supply of drinks and delicacies for the guests.” Signed, Maheral Iaria Elervathar Okarir’tayna Caestella Valarieth [[ June 1st 5:00pm EST/ 22:00 CET ]] maehr’sae hiylun’ehya
  16. [!] Some commotion would be happening in Brandybrook ~The halflings of Brandybrook enjoying the second Toady Traveler Happy Hour!~ It was a beautiful day in the Brandybrook, as it is oft to be. The birds sang their lovely little songs, the halflings ran about enjoying their daily lives, and all was merry and good. Several halflings had gathered in the tavern to drink, and exchanged songs, stories, booze, and other things with each other to pass the time. They laughed, giggled, hiccuped, and had a grand ol’ time together. Several bigguns came and went during this time, as did several halflings. However, those who choose to stay in the tavern for an extended period of time soon grew bored, and talks began to focus around more adventurous things... Eventually, it was decided that a second Pumpkin Raid to rival the first would be declared, and that the halflings and their biggun friends would set out to spread peace and love immediately. While none of them knew it at the time, this Pumpkin Raid would be their demise... ~Preparing for the Pumpkin Raid!~ Soon, Brandybrook was filled with the sounds of pumpkin-carving, shovel-making, and excited chatter concerning the Pumpkin Raid about to occur. The tavern had been completely vacated in order to better prepare for the Pumpkin Raid, for preparing pumpkins is best done outside, and bigguns and halflings alike were equiped with all they’d need for their journey to save Arcas from the brutal war. ~Leaving Brandybrook!~ While few in number and small in stature, the halflings made up for this with their strong spirit and devotion to the cause of peace. They’d find themselves traveling from one end of Arcas to the other (quite a long journey for such a small creature!), meet several friends, and have plenty of adventure indeed! From Sutica (where a few bigguns were recruited to the cause) to Urguan (where the halflings were nearly killed by Dwarves) and finally to Renatus far away from the halfling homeland. Such a merry band it was! A line of halflings and bigguns marching across the roads of Arcas, all wearing pumpkins on their heads to tell the Pumpkin Raiders apart from those who must be taught the ways of peace! Never once did they lay a finger upon the bigguns they met, and never once did they think of going home no matter how difficult the road ahead became. ~One of the Pumpkin Raid’s several “Snack Breaks” where hungry Pumpkin Raiders stop to eat a snack!~ ~Trying to convert a biggun to the ways of peace in Sutica!~ ~Marching through the woods whilst traveling to Urguan!~ ~The discovery of the so-called “Pumpkin Trees” was a great boost to the Pumpkin Raider morale!~ ~Arriving at Urguan!~ ~Confronting the Urguan soldiers!~ ~Helping Thyme with his injury!~ ~Leaving Urguan!~ While Sutica had been accepting of the Pumpkin Raiders and their crusade for peace, the Dwarves of Urguan were much harder to crack.... the Pumpkin Raiders were split up, lost, injured, or in general disarray for much of their time there. Thyme, one of the Pumpkin Raiders, was hit by a Dwarven sword and had to be carried out of Urguan until he regained the ability to walk, and none of the Dwarves joined the cause apart from a child. Only slightly discouraged by their lack of success in Urguan, the Pumpkin Raiders would soon move on to a larger target; Renatus! Renatus was not too far from Urguan and was taking part in the recent war, and thus was chosen as the site where the Pumpkin Raiders would try and spread their values of PEACE, LOVE, and of course, PUMPKINS! ~Traveling to Renatus!~ ~Arriving at the gates of Renatus!~ When the halfling Pumpkin Raiders arrived at Renatus, the bigguns there were not amused! They quickly donned their armor, unsheathed their swords, and demanded that the Pumpkin Raiders leave or all be slaughtered in cold blood! The halflings, while understanding the threats of the Renatians, remembered all the previous times that Renatus had been good to them and persisted in their efforts to spread peace regardless. Tensions soon rose as the Renatian soldiers marched out onto the bridge, pushing the Pumpkin Raiders away from the gates and demanding that they all leave. No matter how much the Pumpkin Raiders insisted they were a peaceful gathering, the Renatians insisted that the halflings would kill them all if they didn’t force them to leave, and thus continued in their efforts to stomp out the peaceful pumpkin movement. ~Renatian soldiers marching onto the bridge!~ ~The Pumpkin Raiders are forced back as a huge quantity of armed bigguns threatens them with violence!~ ~An image of the bridge seconds before the Renatians charge the Pumpkin Raiders.~ ~Halflings running for their lives!~ What had begun as a few slashes at pumpkin-wearing protesters soon escalated as more and more Renatians joined in on the slaughter of the halflings and their Pumpkin allies. Soon, the halflings were in a full retreat away from the bridge with a horde of soldiers following them. Almost without any warning, the efforts of the Renatians to rid their lands of the Pumpkin Raiders turned into a massacre as halflings began falling to their blades left and right. ~Daisy Applefoot being hunted down by Renatians!~ Daisy Applefoot, a prominent halfling of Brandybrook and one of the organizers of the initial Great Arcas Pumpkin Raid, was caught up in the chaos as it unfolded. She tried to peel away from the roads and run into the woods, hoping that it would save her life, but a Renatian soldier keep on chasing her no matter how hard she ran. Eventually, the Renatian soldier stopped chasing her, and Daisy took a moment to eat. She kept on running away from Renatus, thinking about how she ought to save her life all the while. As far as she knew, Renatian soldiers had noticed her as she ran away. She spotted a cliff where she could dive into the nearby river, and jumped off of it in hopes of swimming away to safety and confusing the soldiers chasing her. SPLAT! Daisy Applefoot missed her jump and landed face-first into a ledge overlooking the cliff. Her frail body, already damaged from an arrow and two sword slashes, quickly crumpled under her own weight and left her there to die. Nobody was there to hear her cries for help. Nobody saw her as she slowly bled out by the river, her blood coloring it red. Nobody saw the life in her eyes fade into darkness as her lungs filled up with blood instead of air. She would not be returning to Brandybrook. Her children would never see their mother again. The Applefoot burrow would nevermore be graced by Daisy’s smile. Never.
  17. First ‘proper’ ship seen on the expedition. Circa 1715 “The smallest landlubbers, callin’ themselves the halflins received a bounty that would lead them to the shipwreck, as they ventured out from brandybrook’s decks they would quickly find out the shipwreck was no fluke and that another ship had been shattered to pieces there while trying to retrieve the much acclaimed treasure… Was it the aggression of other ocean-travelling folk or just another casualty of the forceful tides that often brought a wet demise to unsuspecting sailors… ? The warning remained, but with the demise of the other ships a lucky group of landlubbers have taken the opportunity to check out what sweet loot these remains had to offer. They were greeted with relics of long past lives and the unwelcoming otherworldly presence of an apparition that had formed from the many lost souls that drowned or died any other horrible death upon the ocean. Seeing that everything eventually sinks down to the ocean floor to ultimately rot away, the shipwreck preserved itself as a warning to all those who are foolish enough to venture out into the unknown seas unprepared. A storm was coming... Luckily the Pirates were giving the landlubbers who received the bounty missive instructions and cared for their safe travel across the seas. Although with the whole population of ocean-dwellers on the line they had no other way but to cooperate with the main-land centric descandants, who were currently in the turmoils of war. Cap’n Octatre’ was send out with a small but dedicated crew to establish contact with the crews that were able to sail out far into the ocean. Far behind the high tides, where rocky formations would carve the floor beneath the surface, a menace would slowly inch closer. It was a sinister creature that would devour everything in its vicinity. As the creature was a very slow organism, the ocean-dwellers & descendants alike wouldn’t know about it at all until its large unsaturated hunger would mess with the whole eco-system. of the uncharted seas Large amounts of flat, marbly bone substance would wash up from the depths of the sea. It was completely dead material, preserved in form, but devoid of life. Once a living organism was turned to dry bones, the salvaged lifeforce would be absorbed by the creature. With the now established contacts to the mainland the pirates hope to salvage the ancient remains of the precursors of the Arkos seas to put an end to this terrible creature, and hopefully free the ancient civilisation trapped beneath a blanket of bones….” *The old man would sign the book, on the last page was a drawing of the shipwrecks at sea. He went to the library of dragur to publish his observation upon sea.*
  18. [!] A halfling advertisement is found flying in the wind. T’a Second THIRD Annual Toady Traveler Happy Hour! ~Mourning the loss of a beloved flower~ Fer far too long have us wee-folks gone without drinking! T’is toime ter stuff our mouths full of booze once more and be happy! Le’ us all gather in the tavern once more and DRINK ourselves ‘till we fall ill! What: A massive drinking party! Where: In Brandybrook! When: Close t’a the end o’ this Elven Year ‘n the beginning of the next! ((3 PM EST, Sunday the 26th of May)) Long Live Brandybrook! Glory ter t’a wee! -Daisy Applefoot, High Pumplar of Brandybrook [!] The paper ends with the official seal of Brandybrook
  19. The dull ring of steel on steel was heard on the roads between Helena and Ves as it had been many a time before. A crimson trail stained the windblown grass, the remains of a clash between a Renatian patrol and the Reiver mercenaries. Civilians began to scatter, clutching their belongings with trembling hands and fleeing the roads in search of safety. This day, it would be hard to find. At the crossroads between Renatus, Haense and Adria, a harsh bark left the mouth of Philip of the House Vinmark, a staunch soldier under Renatus’ cause. He bore no noble title, yet his tactical prowess had earned the respect of the men who followed him. “Regroup, men!” A narrowed gaze was cast about him, assessing the state of the patrol he had commanded. One man was missing, his bloodied body lost in the golden maze of wheat outside the gates of Ves. Another body floated limp in the Cobblebrook river that snaked through Adria’s land, water lapping the crimson-stained garb of a Reiver mercenary. It had been an even exchange of life, and not one that Philip was particularly proud of. As the men of Renatus bickered amongst themselves about how to proceed, a bird appeared on the horizon, approaching with a roll of parchment held gingerly in its feet. With a flap of its grey wings, it descended above Philip, delivering the message into the outstretched grip of the leader of men. With the gaze of the patrolmen now fixed on him, awaiting the news, he proceeded to unseal the letter and read its contents. “Well?” inquired the assemblance, arms folded and toes tapped in a display of impatience. Philip simply cast a smile towards them in response. “When I get tired, I sleep. When I get hungry, I eat. When I have to go… you know, I go.” It was a busy day in the port city of Sutica. The dazzling sun illuminated the teal water that flowed through the city, the reflection of the white marble buildings visible on its surface. Crowds of diverse figures made their way down the tightly-packed streets, some pausing to admire the view before continuing along with their business. A circle of elves exchanged friendly words near the gate, guards reclining leisurely as they observed the tranquil ongoings. Suddenly, the clamor of a marching party, hooves clacking and greaves thumping, caused the elves to cast a worried look towards the gate. Within moments the Renatus patrol surged under the raised portcullis, affording the guards no time to react as they charged through the formerly serene streets. Nearby, John and Francesca of the House Horen-Marna relaxed within the smooth flow of Sutica’s waters, easing their worries of their brother, Joseph I, “Holy Orenian Emperor”. Their relaxation was soon interrupted by the presence of armored figures on the ledge above them. Glancing skywards, their fearful eyes found the loaded crossbows and raised swords of the men of Renatus. “Kin of the false emperor- surrender or die.” The threats and jeers of the Renatian men filled the air that had until recently only harbored peaceful murmurs and sighs. The siblings’ attempts to stall the inevitable would only last so long. Under the watchful gaze of Philip Vinmark, the pair were retrained, frayed rope wrapped tight around their wrists, with arms held in place behind their backs. The march back to Helena was surprisingly grueling. Wary of the presence of Reiver mercenaries and Orenian patrols, Philip led the group off the beaten path. Trudging through mud and heaving their prisoners over grassy hills, they eventually found their way back to the Renatian capital. Marching under Helena’s great gate, the Marnan siblings were finally allowed to rest. Forced onto their knees, the pair now were seen in the city square, buildings and terraces of clay and stone looming above them. The usual assemblance of knights and civilians from the city gathered around the returning patrol, having witnessed the capture of the Orenian Marshal only days prior. They were joined by a small group of orcs, the towering green figures allies who had earlier participated in clashes against the Hansetians and Reivers. The restrained John spat venomous remarks at the Renatian soldiers who began to surround him, his sister lowering her head to hide her tearful whimpering. Ser Darius Ault stood in front of the struggling Marnans, nodding to the soldiers at his side. “Take his tongue.” An armored hand clamped John’s jaw, another planted on his forehead as he’d pry the Marnan’s mouth open. Francesa looked on in horror, mouth slightly agape as if frozen by the sheer brutality. Another figure advanced towards John, firm hand gripping a pair of tongs. Inching forward, the crude metal tool would enter John’s vulnerable maw. The snapping of flesh was soon heard from the inside of John’s mouth, his expression contorted in immense pain. Sobbing, trembling, Francesca turned away only to meet the armored form of a Renatus soldier, hands placed on her shoulder to turn her around to continue watching. “MRRRRMMGGHHH!” John cried out, blood welling up inside his mouth, muffling his speech even further. Jerking his body forward desperately, his frenzied efforts to free himself yielded no gain. “What to do with this traitor next?” one of the present knights wondered aloud, gazing down upon the weary John, his body’s movements slowing as more blood seeped from between his lips. The decision was soon reached. A muscular green limb found itself wrapped around John’s neck, the arm flexed as it would tighten. “NO!” Francesca would yelp feverishly, her screams only rising in intensity as John began gasping for air. His final hoarse gasps were drowned out by Francesca’s fierce shrieks, desperate pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. Soon, even her voice was silent, pale expression fixed on her limp brother. The orc’s grip was relaxed, John’s corpse tumbling to the dirt with a sad plop. The knights would advance over the deceased Marnan, forming a circle around Francesca. A blade was slid from its sheath, Philip Vinmark grasping it tightly and raising it towards the panicked sister. “I’ll take her hand- so that she may never bear arms against Renatus again.” Attempting to step forward, Philip was halted by Lord Rodrik of the House Kortreveich, the Knight known as “The Bloody” raising his own blade to oppose Vinmark. “This isn’t your decision. Lower your sword, lest I cut through you as I would my butter in the morning.” Ser Darius would stand placid as the men growled at each other, the surrounding soldiers feeling the stirring tensions. Ser Gregor Thorne mentioned his intent to see the girl die once- but remained quiet afterward as others would voice their own ideas. Demetrio, a noble figure of authority, would interrupt as the voice of mercy, ordering that she not be killed. Ser Darius chose this moment to intervene, proposing Francesca be transported to Adria in an act of mercy if she would scribe a letter and mark it with her seal. Swords lowering, the knights released a collective sigh as a consensus was reached among the crowd. Ves’ gate was manned by a resolute few as a large Renatian assembly was spotted advancing forward onto the stone bridge outside its walls. The soldiers at the front parted, making room for Ser Darius to pace forward, Francesca Marna held in his resolute grip. “We have come to return the sister of your ‘Emperor’.” He would shout in the gate’s direction, an assembly of Ves watchmen soon rallying out from the gatehouse. Forming a pair of parallel lines, the row of Orenians regarded the opposing row of Renatians with a bitter glare. Hands fell upon the hilts of weapons. Bows, swords, crossbows and axes were pointed forward, grips tightening as Francesca would shudder at the middle of it all, Ser Darius careful not to let her run to the Orenian side. A lone watchman called out a vile insult in the Renatian direction, a proud, unblinking gaze cast forward. Pausing, an idea would dawn on Ser Darius as he would address the other side. “You who so easily insulted the true Emperor- I will return this life at the cost of another. Only you can decide to take your own life- and if you do, Francesca will be returned to Ves without harm.” He called out towards the source of the rogue insult, expecting no response. Elric Roul would step forward unhindered, proud gaze still set on Ser Darius as his sword would be drawn. “I propose a duel to the death, then, to decide her fate.” Taken aback, the crowd of Renatians exchanged shocked glances and worried murmurs. The mutterings would soon be cut off by the swift response of Sir Darius himself. “I accept.” Leading the brave soul down the road, the two men would stand opposite each other. The shadowed gaze of Ser Darius’ helmet and the defiant eyes of Elric Roul met, locked as they prepared to fight. Both Renatians and Orenians watched with interest, exchanging worried glances to each other and their weapons. A firm nod would be exchanged between Darius and Elric, the pair of men closing in with swords drawn. A shrieking clang was emitted as their swords met, Roul’s teeth gritted as he pushed his blade against that of Ser Darius. Sliding his sword down the side of Darius’, Elric swung his blade horizontally, freeing it past his enemy’s hilt and striking his side. Grunting, Darius brought his own sword forward, sending a vicious thrust to strike Roul’s side. With a gasp emitted, Elric retreated a pace, his left hand held over his wound. He barely had the chance to glance up before Darius was upon him, grip adjusted as he’d bring his sword down in a flurry of blows. Contorting his body, the proud watchman of Ves would meet each blow, his sword batted down by Darius’ at each of their clashes. Lowering his blade in a full charge forward, Darius would finally overwhelm Elric Roul. The watchman was simply too weakened to resist as he’d be struck backwards, falling to his knees. A yelp of pain would be heard by the onlookers, Darius’ blade now held to his neck. Roul dropped his blade to clatter on the stone road, sighing “Well done, now I know why you are feared… God save Ves…”. Without hesitation, Ser Darius plunged his blade forward, wetting it with the blood of the brave, defiant Ves watchman. “Unhand t’girl- a life for a life!” Francesca was freed of the Renatian’s grasp, a desperate whisper overheard by Lord Rodrik as they would depart for Helena. John Marna’s corpse had already been removed from the square by the time the knights returned to Helena. The blood of the brother, the tears of the sister, had been removed from the square where the Renatians now rejoiced. Many made their way to Lyla’s tavern, where cups were surprisingly raised in the name of both Ser Darius Ault and Elric Roul. For the Renatians, their daily clashes and victories with the enemy had relayed to them a simple truth. The self-proclaimed “royalty” of Oren was willing to send their own loyal men to their deaths- but would do anything to escape facing it themselves.
  20. Hello. As some of you are aware I am going to win this months contest for having most modreqs completed this month. Not only am I going to be able to change Fireheart’s forum profile picture to what I want, I will also be able to change his discord profile picture. So this thread is here so that you, the people of LotC, can voice your opinion on what you believe his profile picture should be. The most upvoted ones I will add to a poll post at the end of the month, where i WILL choose the number one voted for option for his forum profile pic. I’m leaving the discord picture to myself. Rules: The picture can’t break server rules or community guidelines so obviously nothing graphic or super crazy. Below I will include a list I have created so far of my own pictures, let me know if you like any of them. 1: Bucket Baby 2: Bath Baby 3: Unpleasant to look at baby 4: Jiggly Trump 5: Melon baby 6: Mike Stoklasa 7: Rich Evans 8: Miniature Bill Clinton 9: Luigi Meme 10: Horse Baby 11: Very high quality Fallout meme 12: Chicken Little 13: Omar Grimmer’Lak’s pocket Admin 14: Tommy Pickles Please post any suggestions you may have!!!!!!
  21. [!] Halfling propaganda is found flying through the wind. T’A GREAT ARCAS PUMPKIN RAID! ~An old Pumpkin Raid back in Axios~ Fer far too long has the evil hand of war held a firm grip over Arcas. T'is time for all peace-loving peoples to rise up against war and declare an Arcas-wide peace for all of eternity! Soon we shall march out o’ Brandybrook with our combined peaceful army of halflings ‘n bigguns ter protest the War of the Two Emperors and ensure that all o’ Arcas doesn’t burn down in the conflict! Now is the time for us to rise during the Great Arcas PUMPKIN RAID!!! Our Goals: We’ll march out of Brandybrook and travel all across Arcas, tellin’ all how to live peacefully! We’ll nay stop marching from city ter city until all promise to live in peace with all others! We shall bear no weapons but the humble shovel, wear no armor but the pumpkin, and bear no shields but cakes and cookies! How to join: Wear a pumpkin on your head, hold a shovel in your hand, and hand out cake and cookies to all you meet while spreading peace and love to all! Coordinate with the other Pumpkin Raiders fer maximum effect, and you’ll be successful in spreading peace ‘n nay time! When are we marching?: We’ll march on all of Arcas 2 months from now, and spread our words of peace and pumpkins ter all! ((2 PM EST, Saturday May 18th)) ~The infamous halfling weapon of mass-peacefulness~ Have supplies for the Pumpkin Raiders? Want to RSVP for the Raid? Contribute to the Great Arcas Pumpkin Raid with supplies or a promise to attend using t’a following format: Name: Will you attend the Great Arcas Pumpkin Raid?: Do you promise to be peaceful and nay harm a soul during the Pumpkin Raid?: Number of cakes you can provide: Number of pumpkins you can provide: Number of shovels you can provide: Long Live Peace! -Daisy Applefoot, High Pumplar of Brandybrook [!] The propaganda ends with the official seal of Brandybrook:
  22. AND TO THE MIRE, HE RETURNS ___________________________________ [!] A depiction of Kaer Glythen, the Aeldinic seat of House Grimm The war between the feuding Imperial Houses of Horen and Marna has claimed many lives as of recent, and families all throughout the two imperiums now grieved for lost sons and daughters - taken all too soon in the conflict. One such family is the noble House of Grimm, its members having learned of its patriarch’s death in the most horrible of ways; The Baron’s corpse was shipped to the stone-maken walls of Reza, confined to a wooden box devoid of any means to initially identify him. Eventually, however, upon reaching hold of Lady Grimm, authorities were able to properly identify the bloodied husk as her spouse - a man who had so chivalrously lived past his prime. As the family grieved together and sorted through the late patriarch’s belongings, a piece of parchment was found. On the paper lay dozens of crossed out lines of text, all discarded before the middle of the page. In there, a handful of lines remained, writing comparable to chicken scratch, though legible nonetheless. I remember my arrival upon Atlas hazily, though some memories do not escape me. The overwhelming fear of leaving my parents, and my eldest siblings, on their lonesome in Venerra. Thankfully, I had my sister Alana by my side throughout the voyage. Tempests raged about us as we ventured further into the murky waters, our vessel soon being consumed by a grey mist -- restricting our vision for a good while. In the days following, we could make out a jagged mountain ahead; Overjoyed, Alana and I leaped into the frigid waters and gradually arrived to Haeseni shores. As we made our way into the confines of Markev, we were greeted by our cousins, Emma Ludovar and her younger sibling, Jacob. My sister took the path of Chamberlain; I, on the other hand, pursued the path my father had always desired for me - knighthood. And so life went on for me: I had four beauteous children and a supportive consort. Alas, I write this for I have spent fifty-some years alive - Death encroaches, and rapidly at that. Should you find this and I’m deceased, my sole request is to be returned to my grand-nephew, William I of Venerra, where I am to be laid in our family crypts with my father Elias, my mother Selina, and my siblings. To the mire, I return. Credit to Axelu for writing the entire thing, I’m just here for the rep.
  23. [!] The sun rises over the shire-lands of Brandybrook as the halflings awake from their slumber. Meanwhile, a strange flier is nailed to the Brandybrook Noticeboard Halflin’s, ter arms! ~An elf and two halflings relax in Brandybrook as the day grows new....~ Ahh... Brandybrook. Land of peace and comfort in these troubled times. A place of hollow hills and farms next to a great Elven city of rock. As all o’ Arcas be falling into war and chaos, we sit idly by and smoke our pipes and eat our cakes. While all of the bigguns murder one another over political struggles, we’re still debating whether pumpkins or melons are best for picnics. For too long ‘ave us halflings been an idle people. T’is time for us to be great once more, and travel all of Arcas to proclaim our great views to all! Nay longer shall bigguns murder one another, for we shall teach all the ways of peace and love! T’is time for another Great Pumpkin Raid to hammer its way across Arcas and bring all a brighter future of peace, prosperity, and happiness! ~The Pumpkin Raiders of yore prepare themselves for peaceful confrontation~ If what I’ve heard be true. currently the Empire of Man has split up and is at war with itself while other bigguns intervene to fight and kill as they see fit. Decades o’ conflict and strife finally realizing themselves in a bloody free-for-all where all are harmed in the end and none can proclaim t’emselves the winner without serious losses. Even before the conflict broke out, the bigguns had been insulting others for quite some time, a practice that us halflings also abhor. Thus, in order to teach the bigguns that the great halfling ways of peace, food, and pumpkin-eating are superior to their weapons and armor, I proclaim a great ARCAS PUMPKIN’ RAID! All the halflings of Brandybrook combined with any bigguns who wish to join them shall don pumpkin helmets, shovels, and cakes, and begin marching towards the former Empire of Man to spread peace and love to all they meet! May all live in peace and prosperity! No longer shall the people of Arcas deal with the terrors of war! We shall march across all of Arcas and teach all the values of peace! -Daisy Applefoot [!] Another flier can be found flying through the wind around Brandybrook and nearby biggun settlements. PUMPKIN’ RAID! We, the halflings of Brandybrook and all other concerned peoples, hereby declare a PUMPKIN RAID on all of Arcas to spread peace and love to all! How to join: Wear a pumpkin on your head, hold a shovel in your hand, and hand out cake and cookies to all you meet while spreading peace and love to all! Coordinating with other Pumpkin Raiders is helpful but not necessary! Our goals: We will nay stop marching across Arcas until all promise to nay longer bear arms upon others! Another goal is to give everybody free cake and cookies to all we meet so that they ‘r nay hungry, thus helping end war! The main march: All of us pumpkin raiders are to gather in Brandybrook and do a complete circuit around Arcas, gathering followers and spreading the message of peace as we go! We’ll start with Aegrothond and Agnarum and move along all of Arcas from there! There shall not be a soul in Arcas who shall go without free cake and the words of peace! ((3 PM EST, Saturday May 18th)) Eggs against arrows! Shovels against swords! Pumpkins against helmets! Cakes against shields! Free peoples against soldiers! Peace against war! It is time for us to stand up against oppression and war; it is time for us to TRIUMPH! [!] The flier ends with the official seal of Brandybrook. ((This is taking place on 3 PM EST, Saturday May 18th in case you missed it above))
  24. The Wedding of 1715 [!] Several flyers are pinned throughout the city of Haense and Curon A wedding will be hosted in Haense at The Basilica of the Fifty Virgins. Come to enjoy and celebrate the union of Evelyne Vanir and John Luc Halcourt. All are invited to this special occasion. OOC (Date for wedding is Saturday 5/11/19 @6:30 EST)
  25. [!] A flier is pinned to the Brandybrook Notice Board. or found flying through the wind. We’re havin’ ah Beach Party! ~The beautiful beaches of Brandybrook!~ Fer too long have us halflings nay swam ‘n t’a wonderous sea that lies to our south! Thus, we ought to have a wonderous party centered entirely around it just as we had an entire festival centered around the Dinkle river! What: A party filled with swimming ‘n games by the sea! Where: Within’ Brandbrook, by t’a sea! When: Close ter t’a end of this Elven Week and the beginnin’ o’ the next! ((3 PM EST, Sunday May the 5th)) Please remember ter wear appropriate clothin’ ter t’is Beach Party! Anybodeh seen showin’ ter much skin will beh kicked out o’ the village! -Daisy Applefoot, High Pumplar of Brandybrook. [!] The flier ends with the official seal of Brandybrook
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