• Last Seen: 1 mo ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
  • Posts: 2938 (0.86 / day)
  • VMs: 3


Recent Statuses

3 mos ago
Current You've heard of BBW and BBQ, but have you heard of BMW? Neither have I, they never signal their turn.
6 yrs ago
@Cyndyr, ho ho! Jk, I don't have the power to track that down.
6 yrs ago
Whatever credit is left is flushed down the toilet for them. #CNNBlackmail
6 yrs ago
Critically failing perception checks is in muh blood.
6 yrs ago
I swear, I think Optus had some dickhead accidentally hit the restart button on their systems.
1 like


Thank you for visiting my biography.

I am just a typical Aussie Young Adult juggling social life and work at the same time.

I have not roleplayed in years. I thought maybe I'll re-login once in a while and see how the Guild is going.

I have lost touch with the friends that I've made while I was a resident here. Those of you who were my friends, know that I enjoyed my time roleplaying with you and I hope that it is mutual.

I hope to see you in another life.

Most Recent Posts


The room's temperament is that of war-strategists planning their carefully laid out skirmishes. For a single moment when Guillaume has heard that Lady Demet has passed away... He felt a brief pause. The air was as cold as his grief that washed his face. Istvan's chiseled expression did not betray a sorrowful emotion, but the deep tone of his monolithic voice exudes a regretful undertone. Guillaume's hand crept to his breastplate. "My condolences. The world has lost a beautiful soul. May her spirit be lifted into Reon's arms."

Lady Demet had treated Guillaume with much kindness, respect, and gentleness during his service. To see such an amazing woman passing on so early is crushing to the heart, and it must be more so for the Earl himself. "Pass on my condolence to the Earl. I will make sure to return and mourn for his loss in person, once this is all over." The reunion became a bittersweet gathering of sorts, which had to be ended quickly as the young Demet broke the brief silence.

"Indeed, my travels have been both great and shameful at times." His hand slowly fell to his side. "Soon you'd have to test your governing abilities when your people are influenced by outside news." His voice was upbeating, trying to move on from the feelings of grief. "Politics would perhaps become your craft." The small conversation was put on hold as Lady Hraesleg began to lay out her plan of attack.

It seems that Lirrah's pleading had earned her the role of night watch woman. It was her best abilities utilised effectively to avoid direct confrontation. Then, there was the assassin. For some reason, Lady Hraesleg had found it fitting to include an assassin into the Lions. The knight's brow furrowed as he laid eyes on her golden locks with uncertainty and some suspicion. He didn't exactly know who she was, but for Lady Hraesleg to have included must mean that she had an incredible recommendation from a Lord or some kind.

Soon a disagreement broke between Gisela and Cadmon over whether to follow the usual combat practices rather than Lady Hraesleg's initial plan, with both presenting good points that should not be ignored. Though Guillaume remained quiet and thought over the battle plan for a moment. The plan is to lure the foxes out of their hole with essentially more bodies that could potentially be raised back by the necromancer close to their encampement or hideout. When they strike the 'bait', the rest of the Lions will attack in response and chase them into their hole, where the assassin would have already eliminated the Necromancer.

"Lady Hraesleg," The knight responded. "I am willing to pose as the lure if we are to follow the initial plan, with six men to pose as guards to a caravan. The caravan can be filled with a few more of us to join the fight immediately." He could envision one version of events, where the enemy strikes their caravan, and soon would come to find out that the caravan of goods were but a decoy. "We'd be able to quickly eliminate them when they attack. Then, we ride into their encampment in similar numbers of the attackers as they'd be expecting the raiding party to return." To take Cadmon's note on the matter, "However if the enemy has indeed caught wind of the Lions hunting them and remained on the low, then we'd indeed need to quickly move to assault their base the old-fashioned way."

Once the mutton pie was eaten by the knight, he looked on to Gisela with a sincere gaze upon the mentioning of Krysia's contract with her. A contract requiring the reaping of souls in exchange for what? His finger found its way up to his chin, clutching onto it with curiosity. It certainly is a thought that Guillaume did not want to ponder for long. However, if it meant that Krysia is assisting the Lions in their advance, he is able to set his feelings aside for the common good. He'd wager even Krysia had a thing or two to teach him while she's aligned with the Lions. Would demonic wisdom transpose well to human wisdom? "At least you'd have a companion who's always by your side." His voice is steady, as to not betray his skepticism.

The night sky was disturbed by the flapping of wings. The flames stirred unnaturally as a winged beast and a rider prepared their descent near Lady Hraesleg's tent. Guillaume had forgotten that the Lions had a griffin rider in its ranks. Its arrival had certainly meant that the group was about to be assembled for the fight ahead. "Looks like Roger's back. I'll see you at the briefing." He dismissed himself from Gisela and made his way calmly towards the largest tent.

Soon, Guillaume found himself standing and inspecting the map laid over an ornate wooden table. A shorter, young adolescent-looking girl in Hraesleg's armour was on the opposite side leaning over the map with a black mark was inscribed upon it. The mark highlighted the likely location of what it is that we're looking for-- a bandit camp of sorts. She was the famed Steel Princess in Velt; one so young to have captured the knight's chivalrous spirit and gladly lent his aid to see through her crusade. Rumours about the bandits hauling away corpses had him suspect that it was the work of necromancers and their undead servants. It was a mission that called for immediate action, one that required sheer blunt force rather than a carefully placed cut. Those who conduct dark arts deserves to be reprimanded for their disrespect of the dead. Guillaume wouldn't be able to bear seeing the rested bones of his ancestor being used for slave labour. On top of that, they too are despicably be grave robbing fortunes held by the dead.

The group of people around him, his comrade-in-arms, were uniquely varied. Some he recognised, some were strangers. It brought familiar comfort to see István and Cadmon among Lady Hraesleg's ranks. At least the skirmishes they'll be facing will be under István's careful guidance-- the same expertise that allowed Earl Demet to squash the rebel and bandit proliferation in the northern region. The young Demet was for the most part a mystery. To live up to Edric was a role that's difficult to fill. Speaking of, how has the Earl been? Guillaume approached the towering figure with a casual stride. @HereComesTheSnow"It's good to see you again after all these years István. How is the Earl Demet and his Lady?" <If Cadmon is near to István> He too looked on to the young Demet. @The Otter"You've grown much taller since the last time I saw you. How are the vassals in your care?"
@Octo "A-ah, yes, this is our first meeting," Lirrah stumbled in her words initially, but recovered herself well with pie in hand. Guillaume took note of the price indicated of 1200 librans and reached into a small sack he had prepared for payment. It was always difficult to discern the face of a vendor when they're doing their line of work; making a sale. Their expressions never betray their true emotion of the situation at hand. He watches Lirrah's face with her eyebrows rose to an arched bloom... Eyes as round as the full moon... Pupils contracting at the sight of librans in his hands. Her lips curl a smile that soothes the eyes and her dimples light the heart with a warmth of a friend's embrace. This is a genuine smile as a result of a successful sale. He gently handed librans to the Nem and accepting the mutton pie happily on his left hand, the free pastry ticket in the other. Lirrah then leaned in with a hand covering the side of her mouth and whispered secretively, "I certainly would have called for help myself if my voice hadn't gotten stuck in my throat... Ahaha..." Guillaume chuckled in return at her remark. Perhaps he and she are birds of a feather.

"Thank you Lirrah." He examined the golden brown pastry before his eyes. The skin is perfectly molded and the hot mutton filling inside was at the right temperature-- he can tell this from a simple touch. He took the pie into his mouth and ate a part... And the flaky crust crumbles into his tongue and brought homey warmth. Cold night winds have indeed not been kind to the body. What followed after was a rush of rich flavours with the aroma of its contents zealously bursting to fill the nasal cavity. The bits of pie travelled down into his stomach well and spread its warmth to his belly. It was excellence in the palm of a hand. "This pie is an experience of its own, and is indeed delicious!" He roared, but not too loudly to the merchant. For a moment there he had forgotten about Gisela and Krysia. Stuck in a world where only two existed; Guillaume and his mutton pie.

@Raineh Daze "Oh, good evening, Guillaume," The mage returned his greeting with a half-curtsy. "No new injuries to report?"

He lowered his pie and placed his gaze on Gisela with a gentle nod in acknowledgement to her gesture. "You're too kind, there's no need. What you did for me deserves much more in comparison." He of course is mentioning the one time he had suffered a grievous injury that almost cost him his life a few years ago, saved only by Gisela who happened to be around. "No new injuries to report. I made full recovery after that incident. Not even a scar was left." He raised his pie again for another bite. "How goes Krysia? Still looking for a fight every chance she gets?"
Darkness falls. The night clouds shroud the camp and whipping the burning torches with a cold breeze. Flames flicker in defiance; keeping its warmth and light from snuffing out. The onslaught of the night wind is relentless but the fire roars alive. The fire's light scatters as a helmetless knight emerges from a tent.

As the knight approached the Hraesleg Lion's banner, he could feel the eyes of his fellow peers upon him. He took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs before exhaling slowly. The sound of his own breath echoed in his ears as he continued to fasten the straps on his armour. His movements were deliberate and purposeful, a sign of his years of training and discipline. He could feel the weight of his mission bearing down upon him. He knew that he was about to face an unknown and strange enemy, one who would not hesitate to take everything, including the dead. But despite the gravity of the situation, he remained calm and focused, his thoughts centered on the task ahead.

The men near his tent were raucous, their laughter and banter filling the air. But as the knight approached, they fell silent, their attention drawn to the imposing figure before them. "Excuse me, coming through," he nodded briefly while speaking in a gentle yet sincere tone, urging them to make way for him before carefully squeezing past.

It was a rather narrow walkway.

"Watch it Guillaume," they warn, "We don't want to miss seeing your blonde arse take on those bandits with your sincere strikes."

Guillaume ignored the jibe, knowing that the men were just trying to lighten the mood before the battle. He continued on his way, his eyes forward and fixed on the towering figure in the distance with two noticeable horns on their head. He quickly recognised her as the demon attached to the healer mage Gisela. The presence of a demon would normally alarm an entire holy crusade in the area-- but the existence of Krysia is a strangely welcome and reassuring presence.

A merchant from the Matayannah Trading Company had set up a stall at the camp, offering a wide range of savoury goods to help satisfy the hunger needs of the people for the coming battle. It stood there unguarded... Perfect for any thieves to try to steal from. Where was the merchant?

@Raineh Daze "But what if I only want the sweet pastry? The rest doesn't interest me," The demon's deep and melodious voice could be heard as Guillaume arrives at the stall. A feeling of dread and terror washes over the knight. Not from the presence of a demon, but rather from Gisela. It's a feeling that Guillaume hasn't gotten used to. He held firmly and adjusted his emotions.

"Good evening Gisela and Krysia." He greeted the two and calmly browsed the savoury snacks before him. Only now that Guillaume was able to see a pink-haired Nem shopkeeper behind the table, terrified of the demon while holding a tray of sweet pastries.

@Octo "S-s-six hundred each! D-don't tell anypody I let you have some! I m-mean, i-if that's OK with you!"

"First time meeting Krysia?" Guillaume's jovial voice resonated. "The first time I met Krysia, I nearly summoned the local paladin. One mutton pie please!"
Imagine coming in with a plan to IMPROVE your gear.

Only stasis or downgrades for this lad.

in b4 Gil going full Dark Souls Boxers-Only.
Will there be additional opportunities to improve one's character's equipment during the IC?
Sorry for the double post, but the image is fixed @VitaVitaAR.
@VitaVitaAR Oh dear. I'll have it fixed.
@VKAllen: Feel free to ask me any questions you need.

Thank you, I will reach out.

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