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17 days ago
Current Hello and good tidings to thee! What brings you to this line of text?
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1 mo ago
People of Jewusalem! Wome is your fwiend!
11 mos ago
dun dun dun du-dun dun da-dun dun dun du-du-du-dun
12 mos ago
Lo, tis a creature of the avian category! Lo, tis a mechanical elevating carriage! Lo, tis Especially Competent Bipedal Sentient Creature!
1 yr ago
There is something interesting right outside your window right now.
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"Certainly," Ardasa said. "This really is fascinating. Everything is so . . . historic. It really reminds me that my home was raised no longer ago than the last year. One day, I, or my children, shall have stories like those held within your walls. Let us hope for that."
It was late, and yet Rughoi was not asleep. Hard to be, when the emerging guilds and their masters are ceaseless in their demands, each less sufferable than the last.

"With all due respect, Your Might, I would rather these matters settled with Her Mercy," said one, a middle aged kobold missing a few fingers. He scratched at the loose scales hanging off his chin and neck. His words struck like a flung rock, and made Rughoi visibly twitch. The guild leaders seemed not to notice.

"I as well," said another, a youngster an uncomfortable shade of deep red. "Where has she gone? Why do you take her place?" He spoke with the accent of a southern tribesmen, lilting with sudden stops. Rughoi resisted the call of his anger, to wring the scrawny necks of everyone at the table, ending with himself.

"I have mentioned this," Rughoi said, slowly picking his words. "Ardasa is away, handling matters of diplomacy." Immediately, the guildmasters voices drowned him out, complaining and debating, some with him and some against. He buried his snout in his hands, willing with his soul for his bound one to suddenly burst through the door and send these merchants away. What made her so different from he, that he is cursed to watch her deal effortlessly with words and people where he struggle? What, were she here, would she do? Rughoi silently stood up, and drew his dagger. Instead of plunging it into flesh, he slammed it into the wood, jolting the guildmasters into silence. "Ardasa is not here. I am. The quicker we come to an agreement, the quicker you may return to your duties, and return a month hence to find her in the palace." Slowly, one kobold nodded, a grim tilt of his head. Others joined. For the first time in a long time, Rughoi let a grin split his face. "Excellent choice. Now, regarding the supply tax . . ."
"Eudoxus? Surely not that Eudoxus," Ardasa said. "My people's elderly and wise kept tales of our ancestor tribe, which they only remember as the Invincibles. My father and a select few others can claim descent from their remains. It was said that the Invincibles were impervious to swords, and raided great cities, plundering them of their gold and recruiting the kobolds into their ranks." She gazed intently at the statue, feeling somehow as if the image were somehow familiar. "The story goes that a vengeful tyrant by the name Eudokos, or Eudoxus, depending on which elder told it, raised an army of devil-folk and struck the Invincibles while they hid in their caves. The tribe was slaughtered nine kobolds of ten, and those left scattered, becoming chiefs in the neighboring tribes. Amazing, how legends can be."
@cerozer0 The first post said "Regency Era", which in our time was during the Napoleonic Wars. I think everybody has gunpowder.
Lukas casually walked back to the scissors and slipped his messy remains of one in with the rest. He quickly backed up, hoping nobody saw. If anyone asks about it, his plan is to deny everything and hope they believe him. He was about to return to his place, perhaps ask the councelors about other activities, when something made him stop. "What the-" he sputtered. "Is that me?" Remarkable, how someone was able to so expertly capture his likeness, or someone close enough. It was all there, down to the bent scissors and the wood and the Greek lettering. "Uhh . . . That's not going to be your name tag, is it?" he asked. Seems odd to him for someone he'd never met to have a picture of him, which they both are going to see for the rest of the month-or-two of their stay here.
@Congee Finished and up for review!
Hi! Is there still room in this RP? If so, I would like to pitch my character here:

I'm ready to go to lunch now.
Lukas carved in the last "ς" with the now-mangled scissors, and stood up in triumph. He wanted to shout and cheer, but reminded himself of where he was, and kept quiet. No doubt the rest of the class was hard at work, and the last thing they wanted was some guy interrupting their concentration with his obnoxious voice. Still, though, the nameplate took hours to make, and it was surely nearing lunch. He looked around for a clock, but there was none. Not on the walls, at any rate, and he didn't know any of the fellow campers well enough to borrow their timepieces.

Lukas patted around in his pockets, hoping beyond all hope that something in there had the time, and his hand enclosed around something square-shaped and cool. Right. He pulled out the phone and looked down at the blurry screen. Yep, it was nearing midday. The phone brought back the scene of when it was given to him, which was joined quickly by more. He missed Theodora. He missed Karen, and Timothy, and the rest of the D&D club. How many weeks of camp did he have? A month, two?
Name: Eveyon (Last Name Omitted For Religious Reasons)
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Appearance: The most immediate aspect of Eveyon's appearance is his hair. Or, rather, the lack of it. He keeps his head shaved bald, in accordance with the faith of his homeland. Under the glittering scalp, his skin is a middling brown, and his eyes a striking black. He stands at 170 centimeters in height, and is deathly thin from long periods of fasting. His face he keeps solemn, again one of the duties of the priesthood, and tries best he can to convey no emotion.
Personality and Backstory: Eveyon was the son of a priest, and thus was raised within a priest's coven. Within its walls, he learned of the holy books and tenets associated with the faith, in the hopes that should his father pass, he would take his place tending to the parish. He clung to the faith, it being the only thing he knew, and internalized its teachings till he knew them front to back in his sleep. He has worked hard from youth maintaining the pristine reputation of his parish, keeping the holy days as well as the grounds of his father's temple. On his nineteenth birthday, his father, as well as the other priests, tasked him to leave home on pilgrimage to spread the faith. Immediately, he set out to do so, hopping on the first ship he could find heading for uncharted waters.

Classification: Explorer (and possibly Chaplain)
Specialization: Lookout from the Crow's Nest

bow to the queen
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