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2 yrs ago
Current 3.5e is the best dnd, only one I play, but I prefer pathfinder 1e cause it's 3.5e with extra stuff.
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4 yrs ago
Trying to get a new RP started so my friend can try out text rp if anyone is interested.

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@Meleck the Grey I like it, the order wouldn't have as much as they would have most likely, especially if it's a Threllian order due to the more or less destruction of the original cultural/scholarly hub, though Wesp may host them, it's still more of a recent construction, last few decades, at most hundred years.

But ye, he's good, I mean, wealth is kinda just up in the air, probably not too much, but definitely more than the average person. Think early catholic church before they started tithes.
Lonelyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Could always use a few more if anyone is interested.
Sapiliezen Hill





"Pardon any confusion... I am not the first person my father would wish to become the next ruler of this Empire. I was never meant to have it, and thus was raised not to do anything of this sort. If my brother had not died, I likely would have been in a monastery somewhere when I turned of age to marry, or sent off to some land to keep a war from happening. If anything else I was likely expected to greet people at the door." The Emperor said after marking an almost taken-back stance with her name, or at least sensing confusion somehow. "It irks the loud one behind me that, I.. speak more like one of the servants than the one that commands them."

"But... Conscription is a word I am not familiar with, I assume that is something across the sea," he said quietly, almost to himself but too loud, "I know that before most of the lands to our south in the realm devised a citizen-soldier approach to their recruitment, I know many of the citizen class have either fallen to poverty, or have risen as land-lords in their own regards. But... I am honestly surprised there is still anyone there to desert at all, let alone a company-sized amount..."

The man looked down for a moment thinking, and then raised his head, "There is something I know about that area, and that is mostly that they cannot supply their own arms. I know your southland provides most of the arms used for our military at this point due to our lack of both a... large craftsman base that has the skills to create the fire sticks or whatever they are called, the hand cannons. Those things... But, I also know that well the raising of levies has not been the same since my brother died. I know my father tried to implement some new techniques for amassing large armies. I... tend to find them not as useful anymore... or surprised they were useful, with the reliance on magics becoming both more prevalent but also more... rare. Would a small force not be better suited should it come to it? I... was hoping that a magi of some form, along with a retinue of guards to control his safety might do more than a legion of men might."

"But also, that can easily be countered by a unit of dwarven warded infantry should they be caught out by them." he took a deep breath, "Sorry... I know there are no current wars or rebellions, that most are tame, but... I honestly did not know that you were here, Lady Nivellen... I had not heard that you were even in the lands to assist us with rebuilding. But also to see that an advisor is... of a rare people... I am grateful, but have you made yourself well, have you been in the city long?"

"Also surprised there is still a mayor there, I assume his son fell then, or that Sir Belithorn is still alive... I honestly thought most of them had died in the siege there, then again... that city holds its mysteries still underneath in the new city. But, that is still good news, I thought it would be closer to ten or twenty, sixty, that is almost twice what we have here in this city for the garrison, and the guards are what you see around me now... with a few exceptions, mostly those that survived the collapse of the other quarters but could not escape injury like myself and him." his eyes slowly wandering over to the massive guard in the room.
Tiny Nord

Morocco 13:56:55


Staring at the mask of the other man, who he was a bit confused about the Irish. "Catholic or Protestant?"

"Catholic." the heavy replied in almost a moment of confusion between the two.

"Ah, that's good, I hate fighting unionists, I swear to the lord they are some of the most pretentious people, it's like dealing with lion that thinks it's a house cat."

"Aye." the man said as the minigun landed on Tiny's shoulder. "But ya gotta do it, else we all know what happens."

"True, but... I see you're working with the black and tans then." Oliver replied as he nodded a bit, "If it makes the insult better, I did almost go to Notre Dame."

With that the opposing heavy did once again try to bash Tiny's head, again landing on the shoulder, and with that the conversation seemed to be a flair of insults going both ways, every once in a while there was a moment of clarity within the words being cast back and forth. Most of the slurs and curses, but it seemed as if the two were having 'fun.' By fun, it was an absolute brawl which again went to mechanical fists hammering away at each other. The Minigun was damaged, the axe was stuck, and fists seemed to be the focus.

A swing from below landing in Tiny's stomach plate, replied with the double hands of tiny hitting back of the Irish Heavies head. It was entirely a back and forth, plating being smashed as small arms picked up upon the two once again making plinking noises as they brawled.

Another lull in the fight came when Tiny's shoulder plate had the other heavy hand shoved between two of the plates, "If ya make it out of this, I swear to god I'll carry around a pint of Guinness case I have to deal with you again." Tiny said before pulling his arm shattering some of the protection on the Irishmans gauntlets, but more importantly, locking him into place.

Tiny turned and pushed his back against the Irishman's armor, his other hand moving to keep the other arm from moving too much. With that, he pulled the armor up, the gears and motors in his legs strained for several second before the Irishman went forward, both arms turning in ways they likely shouldn't have turned as the man landed on his front. Tiny forced down a bit to confirm that the arms were likely broken, before he slowly stood, feeling plinks as his armor loosened some as his shoulders rolled, letting go of the other man.

"Can two people fighting not have more than... however long it was to fight without any distractions?" he asked slowly picking up his shield as if his armor was trying to reset with him in it, and also if the man was sore from literally brawling with another tank of a man. "If... Oh yea, Muslim majority country, not a lot of bars around here..."

The man was mostly speaking to himself, but also kinda to the spot on his shield where ducktape remained from the failed experiment with the microphone. With that, the axe was hastily retrieved from wiring and armor, pried out, and the man relaxed as best as he could by pinging underneath the shield and against the compound wall. It was almost a breather if he wasn't getting shot at by likely increasingly large amounts of bullets. It was also a moment to do damage control, figuring out what the brawl had broken.

Not much was too damaged, mostly dents, if anything. The only thing that was a problem was something in his right leg. It always had to be the right leg; he felt as if its mechanics weren't holding up again and that, for the most part, the gear was stuck again. He shifted his leg around and placed the shield on that side of his body.

He pulled his rifle up in his left hand and approached the gate, "I am at half-ish speed until I can fight the right knee again. Enemy heavy is down."

Tiny pulled again at his leg until it and the shield were facing out into the city, and his backside was to the compound; he just listened to gunfire and the pinging; the radio came over his right ear going through the garden, wasn't that the first idea. Well, it was until the resident heavy got in his way. He began to fire sporadically at anything getting close. Surprised still that he was already out of breath, maybe he has been out of the game too long. Naaaaaaa, just the Irish dude, totally just the Irish dude, and also carrying weight with the right leg slightly out.

Sapiliezen Hill


"There is still a garrison there?" he questioned looking at the two before shaking his head, waving a hand away from the letter as he looked at them, looking over at the Duke as he was getting *Sorry, um... Yes, how... we really still have a garrison there?"

Confusion stuck on the man's face as he looked like someone on the first day of their job or like the intern who finally has a project after a long time unboxing things in a backroom. He looked as if the others had continued to rant, almost as if the emperor was not there and they were arguing among themselves. But for the Duke, who had turned into a tomato, he had sat there grumbling. The Emperor, however, was in a setting of disbelief, also in that of shock, and with a bit of pale face from the blood. It was a dark thought in his mind, but that was not the concern at the moment, this odd woman in front of him was

"Then I suspect good news, since most of the nobility there died in the commons hall, their lack of leadership has turned into... Do they have leadership? Is it still the six-month-old and his mother that lives there?" His eyes looked between them both, looking down at them as he pressed his lips together. "So um..."

The line of armor and bodies between the argument and them was a helpful tool; most weapons on those in the pile of angry men were armed, but not to the point of what was left of the Royal Guard. He was thankful for that, and that the others had shut up the Duke in the rabble, well noble grouping. The elven woman in front of him and her squire, "Might I ask who you both are? It is rare, especially since the incident, to see any elves outside of their city, or the woods... nevermind on that, it is just rare seeing your kind, but, I hate to be rude, most of the staff is still trying to find replacements to build the staff while repairs continue."

@AtalantaI feel that, I am fixing to drive down to GA for some stuff, and then have to be back where I live the next day without flying, and then stuff with a lot of the work I've done for my thesis being published to days ago so I gotta rethink most of that as well. But, let life settle, and if you're down for something, I bet we will still be about.
Torsten


Dorian, and then an Orc, well, that was an odd sight; not many of those had had to deal with, but work with, that was a rare story. He pressed his lips together, his facial hair almost acting like two massive caterpillars forming a massive hairball on his face. He looked at the others in the room and let them listen to Dorian's words.

"It is good to know they are alive... I am sure many of us are relieved that that statement... but, what does it mean for us, it sounds as if there is something for us to do, that we are the next formation of this Order, the next line, the next thread in the web of it. If I am correct, then what is it that we are to do?"

The man was straight to the point, he mainly looked at the Orc during this entire time, not once resting his eyes upon anything else. Finally, he looked at Dorian and then the others. While his face at that moment after taking the focus off the orc was something that was much different than it was looking at the orc, it was almost relief or at least some form of joy.

His blue hues went over each one in the group, to the other woodsman, and lastly before going back at Sir Dorian. he wanted to be straight to the point and wanted Dorian to as well. He hoped that he wouldn't talk further in mystical diffleres like hismentor had about orders and the larger events of the world So far, it proved true that Dorian was also one who was straight to the point." He was thankful for that.
Also just made a discord incase if anyone is interested, posted in the description and in here. discord.gg/mHXtc7RV
Sapiliezen Hill


Duke Manith of Cyreze eventually brought the squabbles into a fight with fists, he was lucky that few were in the room, and that most did not care to intervene, the few things that did happen is that whatever was left of the guard, barring the largest amalgamation of steel plate armor and weapons moved either closer to the Emperor himself, or the door to the larger courtyard. It was an interesting thing, it was a fight between those who had no power left but for the clothes on their backs, and whatever they could swindle away from their homes before they fled. Well whatever they managed to keep in their possessions. They were granted pity due to their ranks and titles, but as it could be shown, they were just cornered animals fighting for scraps.

The servant returned with a tray of tea and several glasses, as well as a standing table as he placed it down for them to enjoy over time. The tray was likely some form of cheap alloy coated with a faux rose-gold, but it held authentic glass cups, and a clay pot of a dark substance.

"It is a tea dilute, it is some of the few I have been able to find in the recent days." the servant said quietly, pouring several glasses including one for himself, "I am Mr.Turyur, the other public servant is Mr.Tilitin. If you are staying here, we will likely be taking care of your basic needs, and general distraction from the faults of the others who come here."

He stared at the brawl as it had become devolve until the Duke of Cyreze, well once Duke of Cyreze stuck one of the men with a knife that was created from a pocket. With that the man slowly placed down his own cup, and stood in front of the two, not in a defensive posture, but just standing there.

The guards did nothing but continue to move in front of the paling Emperor, but not much action was resolved.

"It seems that the count of Garmond has been stabbed, surprised it didn't happen sooner." Mr.Turyur said quietly, looking over at the two more or less to gauge their actions. "Don't worry... this is sadly common place over the past few years."




The Emperor stared at what had become a brawl, he was fixing to try and stop the squabbling once and for all, but it turned into someone getting stabbed. He saw blood, and his face went white. He hadted the sight of blood near him, even if it was blood sausage, he hated the smell of it, no matter what kind of blood it was, he could always tell what was blood and what wasn't. His servant hadn't returned, and the guards in the room just stood in front of him. He opened his mouth, but couldn't speak, and with the squabble over, most of the others backing down after the Count, who was now lying on the ground groaning got stabbed.

"His Magesty." Started the Duke, "I was hoping to come and ask for our permission to found a New Dutchy with my village as it's head. It will look over the City of Darkness, and many of the surrounding lands including the enclave of elves."

The Duke of Cyrene, turned to look at those who he was once fighting with, and then he saw an elf in the back, and almost scowled, before looking back forward. "The benefits of our military would be wonders if we could once again mobilize what is left of our southern armies, and the experience of the elves would work wonders for our people. We would have thousands of trained warriors and mages ready to march and rec-."

This was stopped by another in the crowd, "So you can throw more lives into a slaughter? So you can horde an army for yourself, and then waste your soldiers on a campaign to gratify your riches, and when you run away again, you can leave an army to die?"

The mess had turned into a squabble once again, but this time with more hatred filled into it.

The Emperor however saw what the Duke scowled at, and it seemed that there were those unfamiliar to him in the court, he was used to having blatant murder in his halls, but he saw these individuals and likely knew they saw him as just a stone in the river. He believed his should prove them wrong, "While you all figure your lives and arguments out... I am going to stretch." he said, with likely few hearing his voice over the yelling.

He stood, and hastily drew himself down the few steps from his throne to the even floor, skirting past the occupied individuals in the room, he as almost invisible to most, which he found to be a blessing and a curse. While it allowed him to move around easily, it also meant that he saw his rule as nothing besides a title. His father had gathered croweds, he just has some once Duke murder someone who also has no power anymore.

He approached those in the back, and looked Tillitin, "make sure he is at least alive, and make sure he lives... I don't want another person to die in my halls this week."

With those words, and the servant heading for harms way, his guard and the Emperor looked at the outsides, "I am... sorry, you had to see that, in the final days of the congressional government most of those men were to be placed under arrest for corruption, or treason for their own people. Sadly those documents are gone, and those of sanity are often those on the floor. But, how may I assist you both? I know you are not from these lands, you wear nothing like the elves of my lands, and while I would wish to hide the instability of this nation, I fear that is too late should you be envoys."
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