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A House Divided (IC); A Story of Romance, Political Intrigue, and Magic
Topic Started: May 18, 2011, 9:16 am (410 Views)
Juicesir
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
See the Out Of Character Thread for details concerning this RP.

It is the end of the 4th Age, the close of a great chapter of expansion, conquest, and the final settlings of the last great frontiers. The world is as a new friend, just setting out to be made memory with and taking in the full scale that it truly encompasses. The people of the world are many and varied, and they have settled in the various places of the land. The Hauch have taken to the north to settle in the cold but volcanic regions there presented. Fuoconis, a land of traders and nomads, lays to the south in the lowlands and scrublands of a wild and vivid hearth of forests. In the east is Aquarin, where many finely clad cities and people thrive in the throes of trade and society, thrashing against the waves of the ocean, yearning to find something more in the world.

And in the east, where the dormant volcanoes of Hauch meet the lowland hills of Fuoconis, where the heave of the land reaches up to the heavens, lies the Empire of Erdenis. As vast as it mountains, it stands as a testament to size and strength, a people born of hardship and dedication to the land they were raised from. The Erdenites have been most prosperous of all the peoples in the Great Veil (what folk commonly refer to the world as) and they have wrought with their iron wit and worth a mighty nation.

But it was not always destined to stand at such heights. With the last of the Line of Montagnir, a dynasty of great men and women has come to a close, leaving Erdenis for the first time in several centuries without any clear line of succession.

Thus closes the 4th Age. The world is plunged into wonder and thought as speculations run rampant as to who will take up the reigns of the empire. With Erdenis falling, the other inhabitants of the Veil seek to gain standing, and all that has been worked for by the People of the Mountains is about to be thrown to the winds of history.

House Lunestes and House Solaris. Two great houses of Nobles controlling the lands of Erdenis. The two most likely progenitors of the next Emperor. As this age ceases, a new one will need to be fostered. And from the ashes of this fall will be cultivated a new tomorrow; the dawn of the 5th Age.

With Erdenis fall? Will the People of the Hills, the hardy Erdenites, cease to stand at the top of all the world's wonders? Who will be crowned the next Emperor of the Skies?

Only time will tell...
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Juicesir
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Sexy Shoeless God of Something
"Long shall I keep the darkness at bay, and long shall I guard the vestige of this great people. No sun shall set upon my vigilance in protecting this land, and until a new guide for our people and this empire arises to the challenges it presents, I will keep this, my home, from harm."

The drops of water rang out against a chorus of metal, as the whole of the Imperial Guard stood at the ready. It was a day of mourning and solemn duty. Behind him lay the veiled body of this friend Armik. Of course none knew him by such a name. They had grown as boys together and played in fields far from such high walls and duties. All before their vows, all before their strifes and great commitments. To the people gathered in the vast plaza before the Castle Montagnir this man was not Armik, but Emperor Darcus Orestes, their beloved and departed king, the last of that family and blood.

Sergius Montague stood. He was no longer a boy with Armik in the fields, but High Marshal of all the armies of Erdenis, standing before a crowd of those he had pledged to defend long ago. The rain clattered loud against the pavement and the armor of the hundreds of soldiers. He let it fall down his face, reveling in it's real touch. Erdenis will not ruin while I watch, dear friend. The promise was silent on Sergius' lips heard only by Armik, now beyond the Veil.

The stone grey of the day seemed to weigh heavy on the hearts of all the onlookers. Off in the distance Sergius could see the city spread down and away from the Castle, the House Lunestes to his right and Solaris to his left. He knew the that no matter how much power the Magi vested in him that they would now be the true strength behind the throne. They were now the makers and shapers of the land.

"May the Veil of Life shade our people from harm and folly." His voice rang out, the pallbearers now lifting the dead king's body away, the people now fully attentive to Sergius. This line was said not only for the Emperor's sake, but also for his. He had to believe some good could come of the two houses, and if the nation's destiny now lay with them, he had to put all his faith in their devices.

But he would reserve his judgement. They would scheme and plot; of this he was certain. But they would not escape his justice. The only one who would rest upon the throne would be one of worth, or none would rest. Feeling this needed to be expressed to the throngs of mourners and citizenry in gathered in front of him now, he sought to put the right words to the sentiment.

"Our people, our land, our very way of life is now on the hold of a great change. As the age of our great forefathers now departs us, we must remember what makes us strong: ourselves. We look to tomorrow as heartily as we ever did, now even more so. We will greet the dawn with open arms, and weather the night with our huddled care. In these times, in this great thrall of tomorrow, we will face many hardships. But we must always remember that the choice we seek to make, for ourselves, and for all who are a part of this, our Great Veil, will ultimately come from within. Erdenis prospero!" The shout echoed across the courtyard, and with his arm stretching straight out level to the ground, and his fist clenched tightly, he closed his eyes.

I will not fail you, Armik, my Emperor. The shouts and cheers of the crowd in unison drowned out the patter of the rain, and as Sergius clenched his eyes shut further he let a smile spread as he heard the motion of the departing companies. This, I do promise.
Edited by Juicesir, May 18, 2011, 9:41 am.
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Vanity&Ecstasy
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Thief of Hearts
Yet another sale, the warmth of coins kept close to the heart rested in the young merchants hand in exchange for the rather ugly copper utensils he had just sold. 'Father was right, selling the crap in bulk is definitely the best way to get rid of it,' he thought before setting out a set of silver utensils that he had gotten for a huge bargain. It had been quite the successful morning for Leo, his money box was filling up nicely and there were plenty of lovely ladies passing by his small shop. "Come one, come all get your assorted merchandise here," he cooed hoping to draw in customers.

Glancing about several of the others merchants that had set up shop nearby were yelling much to the same things. "Special discounts for all the ladies," he announced perking up the attention of some of the older women that had passed by. 'I didn't mean you old hags but, whatever a woman is still a woman despite how old she might be,' he thought smiling at the women as they perused his wares picking up a couple items before picking up some cheap jewelry. Taking the coins from them gratefully Leo gave them a kind smile and polite wave before placing the money in his box before replacing the items once again.

This process would go on everyday and would never change but there were various things that did differ. Dragging out the homemade sign he had made months before Leo sighed, it was all for House Lunestes. The sign simply said - 'Light of the Moon Special.' - it was a call to those of House Lunestes to support Leo's shop but it was also a clever ploy to trick people into buying his merchandise to support House Lunestes without being aware. "Come one, come all, come and get your merchandise here," he called out once again hoping to attract more and more people.
Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character
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Dream
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Mew?
A young man stood silently on the roof of a building, looking out across the marketplace where many merchants were busy at their work. He reached a hand down, and unconsciously touched the soft material that was his mask. It was tied securely around his waist, completely unable to be removed. While it wasn't his favorite place to keep it, it felt too exposed, it was the most convenient. He then brushed a strand of hair from his face, freeing his eyes from the distraction. "It sure is busy today, isn't it, my Friend?" he asked without taking his eyes from the city below him. It wasn't as if there was any doubt who he was talking to.

It was a day just like any other day, and Tim was, like always, fidgeting. He didn't have anything to do, again, so he was eager to find something to occupy his mind. He stood there, not saying anything more, not quite all consciously there, yet not quite lost in his thoughts either. There was always a part of him paying attention to his surroundings. He was a very hard person to sneak up on. Still keeping his eyes on the city below, he reached out a hand, and placed it on his partner's head, absentmindedly scratching just behind the creature's ears. "Where shall we go to today?" he asked. He had a habit of letting the creature choose their plans for the day. It wasn't because he didn't want to find something to do. It was simply to avoid controlling the creature. He didn't want him to think that Tim saw him as a Pet.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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akaiyu485
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Marho Hostern, Smith, sometimes soldier.

Earlier that morning before Sergius Montague spoke, far across the city, where respectable met pinched, a smith and his son laboured. Both father and son would have liked to hear what news Regent Montague’s speech had brought first-hand, but the well-payed commission had come out of the blue; some noble was in dire need of two silver inlay locks and an iron bolt, unsurpassed in quality, necessitating the skill of the ancient, locksmith-master of renown Gesslice, hang the expenses. It followed the young noble’s reasoning that if a blind locksmith could still be the top of the market, he had to be worth Gesslice’s pretentious three-fold price, enough for three smiths… and a little coercion for good measure. What the young noble failed to reckon that the price actually was for three smiths, primarily Gesslice’s lesser-known associate, the smith Hostern, to make the fine bolts, moulds and pins that veined, milky old eyes could not make from scratch, and another in his son Tamur, who was learning the art of working the bellows, holding metal in the fire, turning cogs, fashioning nails, and generally learning the reasons for not becoming a smith. Three smiths even, if Gesslice’s maid and messenger qualified as a wordsmith for convincing them to take the job.

Having worked from yesterday afternoon, through the night, and up to that morning, the pair were nearly finished with their latest commission; there was one large lock-case to go, and it was to be Tamur’s debut with moulding an inlay.
“Is it ready Tamur?” Asked Marho, without looking up from where he was assembling the new bolt’s latch.
“Yessir.”
“Can you tell?”
“The colour of the metal in the mould’s peephole is yellow, I can tell by swilling it, that it’s definitely all liquid, it stinks to heaven on high, and it’s nearly overflowing,” Tamur replied. My gloves are still on, and my nose is wiped, the tone seemed to add.
“Well if you’ve checked everything…?” An assertive nod, “…go.”

In a flurry of movement, the boy drew upon his strength, lifting the heavy pot up from where it rested on the edge of the kiln, where it balanced against his body weight like a seesaw Holding the tongs around it tight with shaking arms, tired from hours of working the bellows, and holding things straight with tongs, Tamur quickly dropped the cast into the waiting pot of water. Only, there was no water; it had been steamed away from cooling things all night. And before that, it was a pot; a cheap thing of low grade clay, under fired and hastily glazed.
CRACK! The metal spilling from the mould overheated the clay, causing it to crack and break, the precious iron with silver inlay oozing out onto the floor, steaming, cooling quickly from orange to a more viscous red.
Tamur looked up at his father, unspoken apology written on his mouth, hanging in an open grimace, and his eyebrows, peaked into a triangle.
“It’s alright Tamur, we’ll still finish in time,” said Marho. “So don’t let one mistake take from all you’ve done since last night. No wallowing. We’re still working an’ I won’t have it. So,” Marho continued, determined to strike the balance between comforting and instructive, “right now, you’re going to run out and buy me another pot, and later, you’re going to make me a pail from scrap. And we’ll figure something else out later too.”

The next hour was a blur for Marho, as he set about emptying and refilling the mould, begging it to heat and then to cool faster, until finally the last lock case was done. Carefully, he swept up the new cases, still hot in his hands, along with the array of fine bolts, latches, pins and screws that were the inner workings of the locks into a soft rag of old shirt, fashioned into a sling, and wrapped the bolt in an old sheet; it would not do for people to draw the line between he and Gesslice too easily. Hooded and cloaked, against nosy eyes and the rain, Marho closed the door to his workshop and home, and ran to Gesslice’s house, where the maid showed him up to Gesslice’s room.

The old man had been sitting at the window, and beside him on a little table lay a pile of wires contorted into all sorts of shapes; earrings and pendants, hooks and latches, even little faces in a variety of expressions. But the old man was not fiddling. He was leaning heavily on the windowsill, almost falling out of it, breathing in deeply, almost intently. He turned around slightly when he heard Marho come in.

“It smells so strong you can almost taste it, can’t you?” Said Gesslice over his shoulder, his blind eyes not quite on Marho.
“What? The rain?” Asked Marho, slightly perturbed by his eccentric friend.
“The trouble Marho, the trouble.” Gesslice replied, pulling away from the window, and carefully dropping himself into his chair. He carelessly brushed the wire sculptures to the floor, and patted the bench for Marho to lay the lock parts out before continuing. “I might have been able to hear it too, if it wasn’t for this damned rain. Alynna might’ve taken me to hear Sergius talk myself, if it was sunny And I behaved. But Sergius is an old hand at diplomacy. He won’t name a successor immediately anyway.”
“No, of course not.” Replied Marho, spreading out the components from larges to smallest. “He’s got to count the bribes first.”
“Marho, you shouldn’t talk like that,” chided Gesslice, brushing over the pieces to find the right ones. “people will think you’re a cynic. And you’re son will follow in your footsteps as you do in mine.”
“Perish the thought.”
“But sincerely Marho, if someone needs the security of two silver inlay blocks, well… wait…. Don’t answer.”
“I know,” said Marho, “You’re going to work. Do you mind if I stay to watch?”

There was no reply, so Marho decided to wait until he got home to probe Tamur about what he’d seen and heard, and worry about the future then. In the meantime, he was content to watch the old man with crabs for hands, and spiders for fingers, snapped and cracked and twisted the wire, turning metal into locks and keys.
Then, Marho realized something. There were good reasons people sent for a blind locksmith; he would never have a face to put to a key. It was a business that, if trouble was coming, it would be good to stay out of. However good the money.
Edited by akaiyu485, May 29, 2011, 12:56 pm.
[imgurl=http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/korra-excerpt.jpg]http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/korra-excerpt.jpg[/imgurl]

"It might not even be all that good!"
"Polar bear dog. Your argument is invalid."
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Achilles
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Ha'aheo Spread his wings in a stretch and yawned, he looked to his partner, Timothy, and listend as he talked.

"Yes, very busy. Why do i always gotta pick?" he said in a yawn.

"It's your turn to pick, though I would like to go pfor a fly later on. If that good wit you?" His ears twitched as tims hand hit his sweet spot behind the ears and his leg started twitch.

He always loved it when he pet him, but unfortunately it made him seem inferior and more of a pet that a partner, which he couldnt allow, so he rearely ever let him do it in public, he turned hios head sideways andlet his partners hand roll of

"Seroiusly though, you pick." he said with a stern look, shifting so the pack on his back was a little more comfortable on his back
Nihil Temptatum, Nihil Potitum

"I wish none of this had ever happened" "So do all who see such times, but that is not for them to decide, all you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given with you"

"Youre ugly" "Youre drunk" "That may be...but tomorrow morning. I'll be sober, and youll still be ugly"
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PandaaMayaa
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Resident
Catrina watched in silence as Sergius made his speech. Today was the emperor's funeral. Quite the day for a funeral. If she were being poetic, as others surely were, she would say that the heavens themselves were mourning, for it had started raining earlier and hadn't stopped. It was annoying, actually. Why couldn't they have moved the funeral to another day when they saw the rain approaching? It was obvious it was coming, too. The sky had been dark all morning, foreshadowing what everyone knew would be a dismal day. And yet here they were; first the Imperial Guard, second the nobles like her, and then the rest of the people. All here to pass Emperor Darcus Orestes from the Veil.

The Emperor's death wasn't really a sad thing for most of the nobles. All it meant was they could have a shot at the throne. Really, who wouldn't want that power? It seemed that she was one of the few who could care less. A quick glance around showed her who was actually grieving. They all pretended, for it would be rude not to, but if you had grown up living and breathing in the petty world of a noble, you learned to easily see through that. Everyone knew that few of them were grieving, and yet they would all still pretend to be surprised that they would be accused of not caring. And that would be seen through, too. And on and on the circle would continue, starting now.

Catrina looked up, startled as cheers surrounded her. Well, it looks like she may have missed something important. She followed suit and clapped, not really the type for mindless shouting. People started spreading out, rushing to get out of the rain. A low murmur rose as people started departing, conversing amongst themselves. In a burst of pessimism, she thought that it must be about how to gain the throne. Good luck with that, she thought sarcastically before being herded off by her parents. Next, even though she wanted to get out of the rain, they were going to peruse the market district. She sighed, but put up with it. They were her parents after all. Besides, she had seen this beautiful necklace that she wanted the other day, but was in too much of a hurry to buy then. Maybe she would be able to find it again.
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Dream
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Mew?
Tim rolled his eyes, allowing his hand to fall from Ha'aheo's back. He then sighed, turning to face the griffin for the first time in their conversation. He had expected that answer. It was the same conversation they repeated who knows how many times. At Ha's comment about flying, Tim chuckled. "You ALWAYS want to go flying." he joked, though it was partially true. The creature did seem to love to fly. Tim never really minded, however. It wasn't every day someone got to ride a griffin, after all.

"If i remember correctly, the Emperor's funeral was today. Maybe we should go pay our respects." he suggested after a few minutes silence. He then smiled at his best friend, and partner. "We could even fly there." he figured that little add-on would perk the creature's interest, if nothing else would.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Achilles
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June 2012 Member of the Month
Well if you don't wanna go flying...we can walk he replied indignantly as he started walking toward the castle. He knew that not what Tim meant, but he liked being stubborn, but he didn't really intend to walk the whole way. He made it to the edge of the roof and spread his wings. taking way too long, get on he said as he arched his back to make the saddle sit properly on his back.

We'll stop and get flowers on the way if your ok with it
he said while he waited for Tim to get on. Then he took off
Nihil Temptatum, Nihil Potitum

"I wish none of this had ever happened" "So do all who see such times, but that is not for them to decide, all you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given with you"

"Youre ugly" "Youre drunk" "That may be...but tomorrow morning. I'll be sober, and youll still be ugly"
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iNOMfood
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Belinda raised her face to the gray sky and a few raindrops fell on her face. Today was the Emperor's funeral, that she was presently at. It was sad, and not just the Emperor's death. The majority of the people here were only faking their grief. Lowering her eye level, Bell surveyed the people. there was quite the amount of people attending, but of course, it was the Emperor's funeral after all. Amongst the crowd there was whisper's of the next Emperor, or Empress. This caught Bell's interest. Being Empress would be a difficult task, but then again... She would never be in her father's shadow ever again. That thought made her happy.
A chill washed over Belinda. The rain continued to fall on the funeral, making Bell wish for the shelter of her home. When she was younger, she never got to go out side in the rain, for her father feared she would catch a cold. Of course, colds used to be much worse for her tan most children. Belinda also recalled not going out side because of pollen, and he was never allowed out of the house in the winter. Belinda quickly silenced those thoughts, 'I never get sick these days' she thought. Of course Bell was lying to herself, she got sick at least three times a month.
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Dream
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Mew?
Tim smiled at the creature. He knew that the griffin would react in that way. It was in his nature. He could never walk that far, and Tim knew it. Checking that his mask was still securely tied, he couldn't risk losing it, even though it was magically attached to him, he half-ran to catch up to the currently walking griffin. He laughed, purposely taking his time as he walked slowly over to the space between Ha's front legs and his wings. He then climbed up onto his back, as gracefully as was possible, and settled himself on the saddle. "So impatient today, arent we." he said with a laugh as they flew through the air.

While he would never admit it, that was one of the few things Tim truly loved. Flying through the air, feeling the wind through his hair. It was those simple things that made him feel like everything was right in the world. It gave him the feeling that there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. When he was flying atop his best friend, he was truly free. Free from everything that had to do with the human world. All the stress and the laws binding him to their will. Those things all melted away as he flew through the air.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Achilles
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June 2012 Member of the Month
oh shush he said with a jokingly stern voice.

As he took off he went slowly for a while, allowing Tim to relax, this is why Tim flew, to relax. To think of it, it's why anyone would want to fly, and there was times when he himself wanted to do nothing more than to coast, but no this time. He held the glide until Tim seemed content.

He raised his shoulders for speed
He picked up his legs for control
He angled his primaries for power
He flexed his tail feathers for maneuverability

He rolled his head right, his neck cracked, his ear twitched.
He rolled his head left, his neck cracked

Hold on. he said. He gave several strong strokes to rise up high as he could before he knew Tim would pass out due to lack of oxygen. Then he spread his wings and glided for a no more than 5 seconds, in those five seconds though, he saw the entire kingdom.

He breathed in, and folded his wings in so they were close to his, and began to fall with Tim on his back, as he fell he slowly turned over 360 degrees, then again he did it, faster and faster over and over, he fell spinning in every direction he could see the town approaching faster. HE steadied angling straight at the ground and spread his wings, from falling to a dive bomb. A growl started to rise in his chest

He pulled up at the last possible second, almost grazing the cobblestone roads as he did. He heard some screams as he pulled dup and started flying through the streets fast and low as he could. Over carts, between houses, under bridges. Rolling, running, and searing through the wind. He could feel the rain being sucked in the wind current he was leaving behind him. HE was roaring. Like a lion and with laughter. This was his ecstasy. He could hear the kids cheering with laughter, the elderly curing at the wind, and the parents scream in shock, but above all else, he could hear his own voice, barking laughing and roaring.

He flew like this to the castle. When they arrived he flew straight at the wall only pulling up when he absolutely had to, almost making a 90 degree turn up. Doing a barrel roll all the way up and over. When they made it over he calmed, and glided calmly down in to the back of the crowd in the courtyard. Being as quiet as he could.
Nihil Temptatum, Nihil Potitum

"I wish none of this had ever happened" "So do all who see such times, but that is not for them to decide, all you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given with you"

"Youre ugly" "Youre drunk" "That may be...but tomorrow morning. I'll be sober, and youll still be ugly"
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That Butler
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Bad Jew
This roleplay has been revived at the request of the new GM, Achilles.
Edited by That Butler, December 3, 2011, 5:31 am.
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Achilles
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NO ONE IS TO POST TILL I GIVE THE OK
Nihil Temptatum, Nihil Potitum

"I wish none of this had ever happened" "So do all who see such times, but that is not for them to decide, all you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given with you"

"Youre ugly" "Youre drunk" "That may be...but tomorrow morning. I'll be sober, and youll still be ugly"
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That Butler
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Bad Jew
This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.

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