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12 mos ago
Current Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.


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I'm sorry, but I might just drop out as well. I've just been having a hard time getting into rp'ing at the moment and I don't want to delay anyone further.

Fair enough. I'm happy for Vasha to know that the bakery is connected to the Widow's and thus the message will be kicked upstairs sooner or later... but haven't mistaken which one of the owners was the Widow because... well, Women are much more likely to join and have actual power then a man would.

Oh sorry. I've met some people who... well, would push for that kind of thing in a PM to be canon.
I decided to send the actual letter that Vasha sent via a Pm. Maybe we should link a GM to such messages in the future?
...It wasn't a declaration of war. It was a 'What sort of service can you provide in exchange for not going to war with you?' note... You know, Politics.

To Count Vasha,

Thank you for your threat. Please notice how one third of your trading caste were recently murdered by their staff during their sleep.

-The Weeping Widows

As the drumbeat quickened the rowmen likewise hastened their pace, sending the ship barrelling through the waves towards the distant target. The captain had called for ramming speed, intending to destroy the small trading vessel without giving it a chance to fight back, no matter how small of a threat the schooner posed to his mighty warship.

Below decks one of the crew made his way through the vessel, the torch gripped firmly in his hand as his eyes gazed forward with a divine purpose. Approaching the armoury he pulled out a dagger, plunging it up into the guard's heart before he even had a chance to react. Quickly searching the man's body, the crewman pulled out the keys and unlocked the armoured door.

Pulling it open he gazed at the row upon row of volatile fluids stored carefully in well padded jars. Moving down the rows the man began to pull jars from the shelves, letting them fall shattering to the deck unheeded as hge made his way to the back of the room. Finally he lay restfully against the bulkhead, a moment of true peace in his otherwise hectic life.

Finally opening his eyes for one last time, he muttered softly to himself as he loosed his grip on the torch. "For the Widows."

The fireball split the warship in half, great flames exploding outwards as the mighty vessel quickly sank between the waves. The deadly oils stettling on the surface continued to burn, preventing all but the luckiest of the crew from making it clear of the wreckage and carnage.

In the distance the small sailing ship turned away. On the deck a veiled woman smiled gently as she likewise turned her back on the enemies of the people.

I do believe that the actual declaration of war was on you.

I also think it's somewhat... wrong that you somehow have an army of zealots in -every- other nation on the map, prepared to give their own lives just because one group of nutbags tells them too in exchange for the odd slice of bread... even more so males since they are quiet clearly treated like second class citizens by said religion.
“There are the people of the day and the creatures of the night. And it's important to remember that the creatures of the night aren't simply the people of the day staying up late because they think that makes them cool and interesting. It takes more than heavy mascara and a pale complexion to cross the divide.” ― Terry Pratchett, Soul Music

Staring out over his city from the window of his personal study, Vasha tapped his bony middle finger against the solid wood of his desk in thought. A piece of parchment lay on the desk before him, an ink pot close at hand with the quill in his grasp, but he wasn't using it just yet as he contemplated what he wished to put down on paper.

He had put off writing this message for long enough having been interested in taking a more 'Wait and see' approach to see if anything actually came from it; The results were no doubt interesting, but now it had reached a point where he needed to see if the rewards for allowing the experiment to continue could balance out the positives of ending it and claiming the resources for other projects. After a few more minutes of contemplation, he finally put quill to parchment.

It didn't take long to write out the full message, but as he took a moment to reread it to ensure that it was readable enough that the average orc could take a crack at understanding it, he rolled the parchment up and sealed it closed with a wax seal baring his mark. Content with his message, he reached out to ring a small bell on his desk. Within moments, a well dressed goblin women was standing behind him, offering a curtsy as she softly asked "Yes my lord?"

Vasha turned to offer the goblin woman the rolled up message, gazing at her through unnaturally glowing blue eyes as he instructed "Take this to the bakery on third street. Tell the woman behind the counter that it is to go to the Sisters. She'll know exactly who you mean." Thinking for a moment, he seemed slightly less serious as he suggested "Help yourself to a bun if you want. Do not let me detain you."

The dice was cast as the goblin woman curtsied again, this time to respectfully leave his presence. Now how things played out was going to depend on the answer he received from the Widows.

Vasha is the kind of lich that isn't going to tell anyone where he put his relinquary. It -might- be in a vault under his palace, but it's more then likely that is a decoy.
@Genni@Senor Herp

Vasha isn't quiet a Tomb of Horror's Lich, but the Castigati have long had a hard time dealing with him... Largely due to the aforementioned Greek Fire and the Deep Ones that live in the sea around the Isle of Shipwrecks. There is a system in place so that the Fishmen under the waves can recognize ships that are allowed to travel to Tushiena and what route they are meant to be on; If a ship doesn't have approval or is found sailing on a route it's not meant to be, it gets sunk pretty damn quickly and the Fishmen aren't known for taking survivors for questioning.

It stops the Castigati and other powers from launching an invasion fleet, so the demonslayers attempts are limited to trying to sneak onto accepted ships to get to Tushiena... at which point they have to sneak through customs, try and avoid detection by the powers that be in the city and enter Vasha's private keep... any that actually get -that- far are now facing a very old, very powerful lich who likely isn't very pleased to have unwanted house guests and his personal guards.

To be fair, Vasha likely has made arrangements with his neighbors to allow 'approved' ships to sail through his waters without being sunk into two categorizes; Those who sail and trade with Tushiena itself and those that merely have to sail through it's waters to go elsewhere.

What are the islands called?
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