Bouclaire is strolling throughout the bustling town of Old Caterinna, which has recently grown outwards and upwards, with streets previously of dirt now being stone walkways. Many children have been born recently, and an arching stone bridge is being built across the Tsaritsa river at the center of Old Caterinna, as previously there was only a mildly perilous rope bridge connecting both parts of the town, or you had to row over on a boat. The sun is shining after an early morning shower, and a rainbow hangs in the sky. Bouclaire walks to the more sparsely populated parts of town, where the roads are still dirt and there is lots of grassland and trees among the scattered houses. A pair of children rushes past her, playing a game common among Caterinnian children. All is well in Old Caterinna.
As you stroll through your city you pass by one of the finest inns in the city. In the stables you see a strangely shaped beast with a long neck and two humps on its back. You recognize the heraldry on its saddle, that of a golden bird on maroon background. The crest of Hoeb.
Suddenly intrigued, she enters the inn, along with two guards who had been discreetly following her the entire time. She approaches the woman working at the Inn’s front desk and inquires about any foreign people stopping by, specifically from Hoeb, which the town of Old Caterinna is vaguely aware of, due to the efforts of Bouclaire to make contact with as many nations as possible.
You learn that a Hoebite diplomat has recently come in and is staying in one of the finest suites. She gives you the number of the room and tells you that he only arrived yesterday.
She whispers to one of the guards to inform the diplomat that he has been invited to her court at Lyrebird’s landing, and is expected tomorrow. She then departs to the keep to make preparations with the rest of the Lauriers.
At the appointed time, the Hoebite arrives. Four guards dressed in dark red robes and armor carrying curved swords follow behind him. Emblazoned on their breastplates is the symbol of the long necked, golden bird with its wings outspread. The diplomat himself is a jolly looking, tall man who seems to be developing a paunch. A round fur hat rests atop his bald head and a long drooping mustache hangs down from under his nose. “I am Nahim Azjerban, head of the House Azjerban, royal architect, and diplomat from the southern nation of Hoeb.” He bows deeply, “My king has sent a good deal of gifts with me, I hope they strike the queen’s fancy!” A retinue of his servants present some striking carpets, an expansive wardrobe of silk gowns, some fine samples of Hoebite tea, and a few exotic instruments.
Nahim finds himself in front of Lady Bouclaire, sitting on a throne in a large throne room somewhere near the center of the twisting halls of the Lyrebird’s landing complex. Four others sit on thrones as well, slightly lower than Bouclaire’s. Two women and two men, all similarly dressed in fine clothes befitting their status.
Bouclaire stands up from her throne, intrigued by the many gifts and extravagant goods. “Your King has quite the taste…” she says, examining on particularly lavish gown, a scarlet red color. “This is very generous of your king, sharing with us the finest gifts… Tell me, what gives your fabrics, and your silks, such wonderful colors?”
Bouclaire is strolling throughout the bustling town of Old Caterinna, which has recently grown outwards and upwards, with streets previously of dirt now being stone walkways. Many children have been born recently, and an arching stone bridge is being built across the Tsaritsa river at the center of Old Caterinna, as previously there was only a mildly perilous rope bridge connecting both parts of the town, or you had to row over on a boat. The sun is shining after an early morning shower, and a rainbow hangs in the sky. Bouclaire walks to the more sparsely populated parts of town, where the roads are still dirt and there is lots of grassland and trees among the scattered houses. A pair of children rushes past her, playing a game common among Caterinnian children. All is well in Old Caterinna.
As you stroll through your city you pass by one of the finest inns in the city. In the stables you see a strangely shaped beast with a long neck and two humps on its back. You recognize the heraldry on its saddle, that of a golden bird on maroon background. The crest of Hoeb.
Suddenly intrigued, she enters the inn, along with two guards who had been discreetly following her the entire time. She approaches the woman working at the Inn’s front desk and inquires about any foreign people stopping by, specifically from Hoeb, which the town of Old Caterinna is vaguely aware of, due to the efforts of Bouclaire to make contact with as many nations as possible.
You learn that a Hoebite diplomat has recently come in and is staying in one of the finest suites. She gives you the number of the room and tells you that he only arrived yesterday.
She whispers to one of the guards to inform the diplomat that he has been invited to her court at Lyrebird’s landing, and is expected tomorrow. She then departs to the keep to make preparations with the rest of the Lauriers.
At the appointed time, the Hoebite arrives. Four guards dressed in dark red robes and armor carrying curved swords follow behind him. Emblazoned on their breastplates is the symbol of the long necked, golden bird with its wings outspread. The diplomat himself is a jolly looking, tall man who seems to be developing a paunch. A round fur hat rests atop his bald head and a long drooping mustache hangs down from under his nose. “I am Nahim Azjerban, head of the House Azjerban, royal architect, and diplomat from the southern nation of Hoeb.” He bows deeply, “My king has sent a good deal of gifts with me, I hope they strike the queen’s fancy!” A retinue of his servants present some striking carpets, an expansive wardrobe of silk gowns, some fine samples of Hoebite tea, and a few exotic instruments.
Nahim finds himself in front of Lady Bouclaire, sitting on a throne in a large throne room somewhere near the center of the twisting halls of the Lyrebird’s landing complex. Four others sit on thrones as well, slightly lower than Bouclaire’s. Two women and two men, all similarly dressed in fine clothes befitting their status.
Bouclaire stands up from her throne, intrigued by the many gifts and extravagant goods. “Your King has quite the taste…” she says, examining on particularly lavish gown, a scarlet red color. “This is very generous of your king, sharing with us the finest gifts… Tell me, what gives your fabrics, and your silks, such wonderful colors?”
“So many wonderful things, my lady! I think it is a great irony that our fields and hills, so many browns and greys, would be home to so many substances that make such vibrant dyes. The Bahi root, the bark of the Heder tree, the Sty bud… the flora of our land contains the skies rainbows.That dress you hold there is different though. We get that particular tone of scarlet from a rare desert grub.”
*I feel like in terms of roleplay I don't contribute much so sorry if I'm a bit of a let down when I roleplay*
*I don’t know if I’ve roleplayed with you, but I would like to sometime. (Can’t take on another roleplay at the moment though, sorry). Don’t sell yourself short.*
Bouclaire is strolling throughout the bustling town of Old Caterinna, which has recently grown outwards and upwards, with streets previously of dirt now being stone walkways. Many children have been born recently, and an arching stone bridge is being built across the Tsaritsa river at the center of Old Caterinna, as previously there was only a mildly perilous rope bridge connecting both parts of the town, or you had to row over on a boat. The sun is shining after an early morning shower, and a rainbow hangs in the sky. Bouclaire walks to the more sparsely populated parts of town, where the roads are still dirt and there is lots of grassland and trees among the scattered houses. A pair of children rushes past her, playing a game common among Caterinnian children. All is well in Old Caterinna.
As you stroll through your city you pass by one of the finest inns in the city. In the stables you see a strangely shaped beast with a long neck and two humps on its back. You recognize the heraldry on its saddle, that of a golden bird on maroon background. The crest of Hoeb.
Suddenly intrigued, she enters the inn, along with two guards who had been discreetly following her the entire time. She approaches the woman working at the Inn’s front desk and inquires about any foreign people stopping by, specifically from Hoeb, which the town of Old Caterinna is vaguely aware of, due to the efforts of Bouclaire to make contact with as many nations as possible.
You learn that a Hoebite diplomat has recently come in and is staying in one of the finest suites. She gives you the number of the room and tells you that he only arrived yesterday.
She whispers to one of the guards to inform the diplomat that he has been invited to her court at Lyrebird’s landing, and is expected tomorrow. She then departs to the keep to make preparations with the rest of the Lauriers.
At the appointed time, the Hoebite arrives. Four guards dressed in dark red robes and armor carrying curved swords follow behind him. Emblazoned on their breastplates is the symbol of the long necked, golden bird with its wings outspread. The diplomat himself is a jolly looking, tall man who seems to be developing a paunch. A round fur hat rests atop his bald head and a long drooping mustache hangs down from under his nose. “I am Nahim Azjerban, head of the House Azjerban, royal architect, and diplomat from the southern nation of Hoeb.” He bows deeply, “My king has sent a good deal of gifts with me, I hope they strike the queen’s fancy!” A retinue of his servants present some striking carpets, an expansive wardrobe of silk gowns, some fine samples of Hoebite tea, and a few exotic instruments.
Nahim finds himself in front of Lady Bouclaire, sitting on a throne in a large throne room somewhere near the center of the twisting halls of the Lyrebird’s landing complex. Four others sit on thrones as well, slightly lower than Bouclaire’s. Two women and two men, all similarly dressed in fine clothes befitting their status.
Bouclaire stands up from her throne, intrigued by the many gifts and extravagant goods. “Your King has quite the taste…” she says, examining on particularly lavish gown, a scarlet red color. “This is very generous of your king, sharing with us the finest gifts… Tell me, what gives your fabrics, and your silks, such wonderful colors?”
“So many wonderful things, my lady! I think it is a great irony that our fields and hills, so many browns and greys, would be home to so many substances that make such vibrant dyes. The Bahi root, the bark of the Heder tree, the Sty bud… the flora of our land contains the skies rainbows.That dress you hold there is different though. We get that particular tone of scarlet from a rare desert grub.”
“My, my… how interesting! In a monotone world of brown, a rainbow hides beneath… It is simply wonderful, the craftsmanship of all of these items… is unlike anything I have seen before… remarkable…” she moves on to the other gifts, asking various questions about how they are made and why. Occasionally, one of the other nobles pitches in.
“these gifts are much appreciated… your king is very generous… perhaps we shall send gifts of our own back with you when you depart…”
*I feel like in terms of roleplay I don't contribute much so sorry if I'm a bit of a let down when I roleplay*
*I don’t know if I’ve roleplayed with you, but I would like to sometime. (Can’t take on another roleplay at the moment though, sorry). Don’t sell yourself short.*
*Perhaps when the Vikings attack your settlement you challenged throne into a duel?*
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*Wanna be a war buddy <3*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*good thing they’re pacifists, right?*
*…right?*
*Sort of. They just see no reason to fight unless they're defending something. Societally, they're Neutral Good, and they have no interest in conflict since destruction is not beautiful in its own right.*
*If anyone attacks Old Caterinna, for example, the ghouls will come a-howling.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*good thing they’re pacifists, right?*
*…right?*
*Sort of. They just see no reason to fight unless they're defending something. Societally, they're Neutral Good, and they have no interest in conflict since destruction is not beautiful in its own right.*
*If anyone attacks Old Caterinna, for example, the ghouls will come a-howling.*
*how wonderful, it’s reassuring that we have a nightmare horde of fungus zombies to help defend us!*
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*Wanna be a war buddy <3*
*My fungus men have no reason to raid or fight. They're chill, at least for the moment.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*speaking of armies, I just realized I may have to change the rules for armies just a little bit. Right now, let’s say there is an army of 50 vs. 30. The 30 will be destroyed, and the 50 will not be damaged at all. I think I should change it so it’s like, 50 vs 30 means 30 is destroyed, but it causes damage to the 50 army. So it’d be 50-30=20 left on the winning army.*
A few days after the ball, the settlers sent out by Bouclaire have made it to their destination: the fork of the Tsaritsa river, south of Old Caterinna. The hundreds Settlers get to work building, while a few go back to clear the start of a path, and eventually a road, to and from Caterinna, and to share the news. Soon, a few modest buildings are built, and the hamlet of Nytasha is born.
Settlement: Nytasha
government: Aristocracy
Ruler: lady Bouclaire Blanchet
lower class wealth: squalid
upper class wealth: modest
important buildings:
Inn (+1 lower class wealth)
farm (-1 growth time)
growth time: 19 days.
As your new hamlet gets founded, a large wave washes up, and as it crests into an arch like shape, three merfolk step out of the archway. *Sorry, got to go, thought i'd start this rp Arch!*
Those who see the Merfolk arrive seem amazed, and shocked. They left old Caterinna before they arrived for the ball. One of them, who seems to be the one running the efforts for building, steps forward and introduces himself as Henry Wardell, a member of the Wardell family, one of the Lauriers. (The Lauriers being the five ruling families of Vallereine, with Bouclaire and her family, the Blanchets, at its head.)
“Who might you be, then?” He asks. Two guards are with him, holding spears.
One merfolk steps up, dressed elaborately In silver armor, two Merfolk guards behind him, also in silver armor. He says, in a rich accent, undid turned by the aquatic sounds of the lower class accent “I am Abalone Tempestus, brother to the king of Aquaglorua. We have heard of a new settlement being created in this river, and we have came with a warning.
“A warning, you say? Are you trying to threaten the nation of Vallereine?”
“No. We are glad to have Allie’s in the world above, including Vallerime, but we must warn you.” Abalone’s eyes turn stormy, changing from the brilliant emerald blue. “If you must settle close to the river, treat it with respect. If you pollute the waters, fill them with your waste… Although us merfolk are peaceful merchants, calm like the waves in a bay, know too that the sea can quickly change into a storm. Do not test us, or you will feel the wrath of Poseidon.”
“Vallereine has lived along the river Tsaritsa for hundreds of years, before we were even called Vallereine… do you see waste, and pollution within these waters? The Tsaritsa is as sacred to us as it is to you, do not assume we are so greedy and destructive…”
”Ah. That would be our bad. Apologies. We do not know the customs of Dry Landers. We were not sure if were simply just aware of a new settlement being founded, and we simply wanted to warn you of what may happen.” Abalone turns to the guards and speaks something in an unknown language. One guard enters back through the watery arch and exits with a small chest inlaid with silver designs of waves. Abalone speaks. “Take these gems and metals as an apology.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hiya, there! I'm Gonzalo2, but you can just call me Gonz! (Don't ask about what happened to Gonzalo1.) I'm just an ADHD theater nerd who has too much time on my hands and too little sleep! I'm usually at Camp Half-Blood, which I moderate, and have seventeen characters on. Like I said, too much time on my hands, too little sleep.
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*good thing they’re pacifists, right?*
*…right?*
*Sort of. They just see no reason to fight unless they're defending something. Societally, they're Neutral Good, and they have no interest in conflict since destruction is not beautiful in its own right.*
*If anyone attacks Old Caterinna, for example, the ghouls will come a-howling.*
*how wonderful, it’s reassuring that we have a nightmare horde of fungus zombies to help defend us!*
*Mayhaps that same protection protect us fish?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hiya, there! I'm Gonzalo2, but you can just call me Gonz! (Don't ask about what happened to Gonzalo1.) I'm just an ADHD theater nerd who has too much time on my hands and too little sleep! I'm usually at Camp Half-Blood, which I moderate, and have seventeen characters on. Like I said, too much time on my hands, too little sleep.
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
*good thing they’re pacifists, right?*
*…right?*
*Sort of. They just see no reason to fight unless they're defending something. Societally, they're Neutral Good, and they have no interest in conflict since destruction is not beautiful in its own right.*
*If anyone attacks Old Caterinna, for example, the ghouls will come a-howling.*
*how wonderful, it’s reassuring that we have a nightmare horde of fungus zombies to help defend us!*
*Mayhaps that same protection protect us fish?*
*Negotiate in RP and I'll consider it, friend-o*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*baal you realize me and my war buddies are targeting Gonzalo that's at least three people targeting his settlement you don't wanna get involved in a war with him*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*baal you realize me and my war buddies are targeting Gonzalo that's at least three people targeting his settlement you don't wanna get involved in a war with him*
*Negotiate in RP, not OOC. Otherwise I won't even consider it.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Old Caterinna has received a strange guest: a gourmand-ambassador from Amberot. It is formed out of the lightly burnt bones of several horses and formed into a roughly humanoid shape with long horns. The black fungal muscle is formed into strange patterns and covered with tattoo-like markings made of intricately metal pieces pressed into its flesh. It wears minimal clothing made of fur and fungal veils, more for fashion than for actual coverage or warmth. It is a beautiful being, but a macabre one.
*Just wanted to start this, I have DnD, like, now, evidently.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Bouclaire is strolling throughout the bustling town of Old Caterinna, which has recently grown outwards and upwards, with streets previously of dirt now being stone walkways. Many children have been born recently, and an arching stone bridge is being built across the Tsaritsa river at the center of Old Caterinna, as previously there was only a mildly perilous rope bridge connecting both parts of the town, or you had to row over on a boat. The sun is shining after an early morning shower, and a rainbow hangs in the sky. Bouclaire walks to the more sparsely populated parts of town, where the roads are still dirt and there is lots of grassland and trees among the scattered houses. A pair of children rushes past her, playing a game common among Caterinnian children. All is well in Old Caterinna.
As you stroll through your city you pass by one of the finest inns in the city. In the stables you see a strangely shaped beast with a long neck and two humps on its back. You recognize the heraldry on its saddle, that of a golden bird on maroon background. The crest of Hoeb.
Suddenly intrigued, she enters the inn, along with two guards who had been discreetly following her the entire time. She approaches the woman working at the Inn’s front desk and inquires about any foreign people stopping by, specifically from Hoeb, which the town of Old Caterinna is vaguely aware of, due to the efforts of Bouclaire to make contact with as many nations as possible.
You learn that a Hoebite diplomat has recently come in and is staying in one of the finest suites. She gives you the number of the room and tells you that he only arrived yesterday.
She whispers to one of the guards to inform the diplomat that he has been invited to her court at Lyrebird’s landing, and is expected tomorrow. She then departs to the keep to make preparations with the rest of the Lauriers.
At the appointed time, the Hoebite arrives. Four guards dressed in dark red robes and armor carrying curved swords follow behind him. Emblazoned on their breastplates is the symbol of the long necked, golden bird with its wings outspread. The diplomat himself is a jolly looking, tall man who seems to be developing a paunch. A round fur hat rests atop his bald head and a long drooping mustache hangs down from under his nose. “I am Nahim Azjerban, head of the House Azjerban, royal architect, and diplomat from the southern nation of Hoeb.” He bows deeply, “My king has sent a good deal of gifts with me, I hope they strike the queen’s fancy!” A retinue of his servants present some striking carpets, an expansive wardrobe of silk gowns, some fine samples of Hoebite tea, and a few exotic instruments.
Nahim finds himself in front of Lady Bouclaire, sitting on a throne in a large throne room somewhere near the center of the twisting halls of the Lyrebird’s landing complex. Four others sit on thrones as well, slightly lower than Bouclaire’s. Two women and two men, all similarly dressed in fine clothes befitting their status.
Bouclaire stands up from her throne, intrigued by the many gifts and extravagant goods. “Your King has quite the taste…” she says, examining on particularly lavish gown, a scarlet red color. “This is very generous of your king, sharing with us the finest gifts… Tell me, what gives your fabrics, and your silks, such wonderful colors?”
“So many wonderful things, my lady! I think it is a great irony that our fields and hills, so many browns and greys, would be home to so many substances that make such vibrant dyes. The Bahi root, the bark of the Heder tree, the Sty bud… the flora of our land contains the skies rainbows.That dress you hold there is different though. We get that particular tone of scarlet from a rare desert grub.”
“My, my… how interesting! In a monotone world of brown, a rainbow hides beneath… It is simply wonderful, the craftsmanship of all of these items… is unlike anything I have seen before… remarkable…” she moves on to the other gifts, asking various questions about how they are made and why. Occasionally, one of the other nobles pitches in.
“these gifts are much appreciated… your king is very generous… perhaps we shall send gifts of our own back with you when you depart…”
He answers your questions gladly and seems to take much pleasure in waxing eloquently about the art and culture of his people.
”My king would be honored to receive even the smallest treasure from your country… but I was rather hoping that my return to my homeland would be far off in the future. For you see, the Tayr, my king, he heard that your kingdom was blessed with a special appreciation for the arts. I take great pride in the fact then when he was searching for a representative with a similar love for beauty, he chose me. I’ve been sent to be the royal ambassador of my country to your great nation, so long as you graciously allow me to stay in your capital and join your court.” He finishes his request with a deep bow.
*I feel like in terms of roleplay I don't contribute much so sorry if I'm a bit of a let down when I roleplay*
*I don’t know if I’ve roleplayed with you, but I would like to sometime. (Can’t take on another roleplay at the moment though, sorry). Don’t sell yourself short.*
*Perhaps when the Vikings attack your settlement you challenged throne into a duel?*
*Perhaps, but those sort of negotiations are best saved for roleplay. Also, Hoeb is in a sort of arid, scrub desert so I hardly appear as a reasonable target for sea raiders.*
Nahim finds himself in front of Lady Bouclaire, sitting on a throne in a large throne room somewhere near the center of the twisting halls of the Lyrebird’s landing complex. Four others sit on thrones as well, slightly lower than Bouclaire’s. Two women and two men, all similarly dressed in fine clothes befitting their status.
Bouclaire stands up from her throne, intrigued by the many gifts and extravagant goods. “Your King has quite the taste…” she says, examining on particularly lavish gown, a scarlet red color. “This is very generous of your king, sharing with us the finest gifts… Tell me, what gives your fabrics, and your silks, such wonderful colors?”
“So many wonderful things, my lady! I think it is a great irony that our fields and hills, so many browns and greys, would be home to so many substances that make such vibrant dyes. The Bahi root, the bark of the Heder tree, the Sty bud… the flora of our land contains the skies rainbows.That dress you hold there is different though. We get that particular tone of scarlet from a rare desert grub.”
*I feel like in terms of roleplay I don't contribute much so sorry if I'm a bit of a let down when I roleplay*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*I don’t know if I’ve roleplayed with you, but I would like to sometime. (Can’t take on another roleplay at the moment though, sorry). Don’t sell yourself short.*
“My, my… how interesting! In a monotone world of brown, a rainbow hides beneath… It is simply wonderful, the craftsmanship of all of these items… is unlike anything I have seen before… remarkable…” she moves on to the other gifts, asking various questions about how they are made and why. Occasionally, one of the other nobles pitches in.
“these gifts are much appreciated… your king is very generous… perhaps we shall send gifts of our own back with you when you depart…”
*Perhaps when the Vikings attack your settlement you challenged throne into a duel?*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*Amberot feels like it could, lore-wise, become a military superpower if they had any inclination toward violence. They are undead necromancers, after all...*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*good thing they’re pacifists, right?*
*…right?*
*Wanna be a war buddy <3*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*Sort of. They just see no reason to fight unless they're defending something. Societally, they're Neutral Good, and they have no interest in conflict since destruction is not beautiful in its own right.*
*If anyone attacks Old Caterinna, for example, the ghouls will come a-howling.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*how wonderful, it’s reassuring that we have a nightmare horde of fungus zombies to help defend us!*
*My fungus men have no reason to raid or fight. They're chill, at least for the moment.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
”Ah. That would be our bad. Apologies. We do not know the customs of Dry Landers. We were not sure if were simply just aware of a new settlement being founded, and we simply wanted to warn you of what may happen.” Abalone turns to the guards and speaks something in an unknown language. One guard enters back through the watery arch and exits with a small chest inlaid with silver designs of waves. Abalone speaks. “Take these gems and metals as an apology.”
Hiya, there! I'm Gonzalo2, but you can just call me Gonz! (Don't ask about what happened to Gonzalo1.) I'm just an ADHD theater nerd who has too much time on my hands and too little sleep! I'm usually at Camp Half-Blood, which I moderate, and have seventeen characters on. Like I said, too much time on my hands, too little sleep.
DON'T TRUST SALEM AND NANER! I'M ON THE MOST!!!
Camp Half-Blood Archives
*Mayhaps that same protection protect us fish?*
Hiya, there! I'm Gonzalo2, but you can just call me Gonz! (Don't ask about what happened to Gonzalo1.) I'm just an ADHD theater nerd who has too much time on my hands and too little sleep! I'm usually at Camp Half-Blood, which I moderate, and have seventeen characters on. Like I said, too much time on my hands, too little sleep.
DON'T TRUST SALEM AND NANER! I'M ON THE MOST!!!
Camp Half-Blood Archives
*Negotiate in RP and I'll consider it, friend-o*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*baal you realize me and my war buddies are targeting Gonzalo that's at least three people targeting his settlement you don't wanna get involved in a war with him*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*Negotiate in RP, not OOC. Otherwise I won't even consider it.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Old Caterinna has received a strange guest: a gourmand-ambassador from Amberot. It is formed out of the lightly burnt bones of several horses and formed into a roughly humanoid shape with long horns. The black fungal muscle is formed into strange patterns and covered with tattoo-like markings made of intricately metal pieces pressed into its flesh. It wears minimal clothing made of fur and fungal veils, more for fashion than for actual coverage or warmth. It is a beautiful being, but a macabre one.
*Just wanted to start this, I have DnD, like, now, evidently.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He answers your questions gladly and seems to take much pleasure in waxing eloquently about the art and culture of his people.
”My king would be honored to receive even the smallest treasure from your country… but I was rather hoping that my return to my homeland would be far off in the future. For you see, the Tayr, my king, he heard that your kingdom was blessed with a special appreciation for the arts. I take great pride in the fact then when he was searching for a representative with a similar love for beauty, he chose me. I’ve been sent to be the royal ambassador of my country to your great nation, so long as you graciously allow me to stay in your capital and join your court.” He finishes his request with a deep bow.
*Perhaps, but those sort of negotiations are best saved for roleplay. Also, Hoeb is in a sort of arid, scrub desert so I hardly appear as a reasonable target for sea raiders.*