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| St. Ermis Clinic |
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Posted by: Botanist - 11-23-2019, 02:39 AM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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St. Ermis Clinic
(wip)
![[Image: JK5RBDp.png]](https://i.imgur.com/JK5RBDp.png)
Dr. Kalogera will mend your wounds, no questions asked; prices negotiable. Discounts for members of the Royal Osronan Constabulary and the Order.
The clinic is located just southwest of the town square. Dr. Kalogera makes house calls.
contact me on discord (rrrrrr#4088) if you want to arrange a scene and get your bones fixed
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| The 1660s- HRP |
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Posted by: Theori - 11-23-2019, 12:17 AM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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Okay, here we go, first of the Historical Record Project threads. The criteria is as follows:
- The event is significant.
- The event is public knowledge.
- It would make sense for the event to be recorded.
Please follow this format for any posts here.
Year:
IRL Date (for order and whatnot):
Event:
Summary of Event:
At the end of the decade, anything posted will be collated and, with Chance's permission, added to the wiki so long as it meets the criteria. We'll look through it and trim anything a little too small out, so if you're not sure if something important enough to put here, so long as its a public event, put it here anyways!
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| The Artificer's Guild: Mundane Divinities |
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Posted by: Salmon - 11-22-2019, 10:30 PM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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Mundane Divinities
"Make the divine mundane, and the mundane divine"
Overview
Quote:The streets of Osrona are home to a wild variety of Guilds and Associations dedicated to craftsmanship, each with unique vision, purpose, and culture. Few of these operate on their own, instead falling under the League of Artificers, a bureaucratic department that provides funds and materials to officially recognized guilds. Despite the shared source of funding, disagreements and feuds between different guilds is an accepted and expected part of business.
It was years ago that such a disagreement drove one of Esshar's great minds to independence, cursing the guilds for their stagnancy and lack innovation that suited his tastes. Akylos Lasko was driven to founding his own Guild, to tackle Artificery in a way he thought it should be tackled; by grabbing it by the horns and pushing it beyond established boundaries. Accepting most anyone with an interest in the craft, Akylos cared not for birth or social status, figuring that competency was independent of those. This came with impossibly high standards for those who sought to climb higher however, judged solely by their innovations and devotion to their art. It is no coincidence that those at the top of the guild each sacrificed part of their body, replacing it with a prosthetic of their own make as proof of their unchallenged dedication.
Despite its loose requirements for membership and its harsh demands for those seeking to climb to renown, the League of Artificers approved a request for official backing. Strengthened by their recent acquisition of the Silverwall Mine, the guild has managed to secure a comfortable spot amidst the masses. In recent times, Akylos has taken a hands-off approach with the guild, preparing his granddaughter to take up the family mantle.
OOC Info
Quote:This is a guild based around artificery and alchemy roleplay. Our intent is to push past the mechanical system and instead use the crafts as a tool of development for characters, magic, and the world as a whole.
Joining can be done by contacting me on Discord at Salmon#587 or approaching Rhene Lasko in-game!
Open for any character with a mind for artificing, alchemy, medicine, or other non-mechanical arts.
Members receive, among other things, backing in finance and resources, as well as RP surrounding the more fun, non-mechanical aspects of artificery.
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House Mundis |
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Posted by: Prestige - 11-22-2019, 10:08 PM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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![[Image: this_battle_you_fight_alone_by_memod-d4ndw7l.jpg]](http://pre14.deviantart.net/8bfa/th/pre/f/2012/023/2/3/this_battle_you_fight_alone_by_memod-d4ndw7l.jpg)
![[Image: generatedtext.png]](https://i.ibb.co/D4zt1Qm/generatedtext.png)
The unbroken. The undying.
Cursed.
The Mundis house was not always known for what it is today. Records show a remarkable survival rate among members of the family where tragic events in history struck. The house was founded at the time of the very first witch trials, when Esshar was riddled with many unnatural, magical events. One of them-- the first of those that the family managed to survive, was The endless night. A month in which a coven of witches managed to strike Esshar with a solar eclipse that stuck for an entire month. The attacks of the witches were always ruthless, cold and of course, calculated. This was no different. Historians speculate that they've prepared their rituals years beforehand, and cherry-picked that exact month knowing it'd be a part of the harshest winter in Esshar for centuries.
Many lost their lives. Villages were reduced to mere families surviving, and among them? The Mundis. Not a single member of the family surrendered to the endless night, and they've all survived. Together. They seem blessed, granted some miracle from the skies above. Yet, history proved this to be no more coincidence. Wherever tragedy struck and death occurred, it seemed to almost pass over this family in particular. A Mundis always prevails-- but why? How?
These questions were repeated by both commoners and nobles alike, as most suspected that some foul play was in place. A curse? A deal that's been made with witches? Many did not know why these men and women managed to withstand what others couldn't, and so, they were lead to believe that the family is best used for their advantage. To have a Mundis beside you would surely ensure your own survival too, they believed. But not quite.
When war struck, they happened to be the sole survivors. Those who were the only ones left to blame. The failure belonged to the living, and certainly not the dead.
It all changed when the head of the house at the time, Otreus Mundis, made the vital decision that his family is best kept away from public duties. They'd use their blessing and curse elsewhere. Many future generations became renown doctors who were sent to research plagues and other incurable diseases, as they were least likely to suffer from them. Others opted to become archaeologists who sought out extremely dangerous ruins, and lost treasures within. Where most refused to tread, the Mundis walked. No matter their chosen profession, they were willing to risk their lives for the better good. As long as it was just theirs. After all, it's the blood that flows within their veins that kept them safe all those years. They've learned not to assume it'd protect others.
Shortly after the first Grand Games took place, the house had its first contact with House Grimmore, who would later on name the Mundis as nobles of Esshar. Their same line of work continued-- only tasks came directly from the noble house of Grimmore itself. Those missions grew harsher and more dangerous than ever before, but the Vassal house was happy to oblige. Or at least, content enough to stay silent and follow orders.
The cursed blood of the family is mostly regarded as folklore these days, but their strange, secretive missions have yet to change.
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| Solon Tofusin |
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Posted by: Solen - 11-22-2019, 05:17 PM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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Quote:Quote:
"You will be beaten and tossed around like a dog by life, but the more you endure; The stronger you will be in the end."
| Name: Solon Tofusin | Sex: Male | Age: 18 | Height: 6'0 | Weight: 150 lb
He's a tall slightly malnourished male with visible scars on his shoulders.
If you look closely at them you easily tell this is from lifting/carrying way to much.
He wears a helmets visor tied to a bandanna on his head, and has bright green eyes. He also has long dark hair reaching his lower shoulder blades.
Somewhere on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital. Solon, was brought into this world by a young farmer women and a nobleman. This birth was do to a secret romance behind the nobleman’s betrothed back. After the man delayed the marriage for as long as he could, he was no longer able to see his lover. However, he kept in contact over the years of Solon’s development, helping out with money to keep them afloat. He and the mother wished the best for their child, even naming him after Solon Duran; In hopes that he may lead a great life in his name.
As he grew into a young boy he became fascinated and enthralled by the First Order. He wanted nothing but to become one in his later life. He started training everyday even running away from his duties to attempt to better himself. Putting himself under the harshest of training without even a thought. After finding out that House Astor puts everyone into the First Order. He would attempt to watch some of the sparring sessions that kids would do in the courtyard.
Later he was found once, and he was brought into the courtyard by one of the kid nobles of the house; They became fast friends. They started to train together whenever he had time between his farming duties. As he quickly gained strength and endurance. The mix of both life styles helped his growth out, until he hit his climax. He no longer was able to gain anything by doing either of these things. At the time as well his Astor friend was sent to the Imperial Academy. He had no way to gain entry into the school, and no way to get into the Order. Eventually he was forced to focus on farming.
Somewhere around his later teens he and his mother got word that the father of Solon is dead. They had no way of sustaining themselves. Due to this his mother eventually got ill. He had no way to maintain a whole farm by himself. They did have a few other farm hands but they were not able to be sustained either. He and his mother were forced to sell the farm. Having to start anew Solon’s mother used the money to get a small house to live in. Solon had only one choice left and he was happy to take it. If only it wasn’t under these circumstances; And at the age of eighteen he had to head into the Imperial Capital, to become a First Order Knight...
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| The Watch Commander's Favorite Headlines |
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Posted by: Nuo - 11-22-2019, 03:11 PM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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Quote:NEW COMMANDER CAUSES CHAOS OUTSIDE CONSTABULARY HEADQUARTERS
1659
Journalists and reporters gathered outside the Royal Osronan Constabulary Headquarters this morning to witness a long-awaited announcement from City Watch officials. Two months ago, Watch Commander Oersted announced his retirement after nearly fifty years in the Watch, and speculation as to who would succeed him ran rampant; in public opinion, the clear front runner was Captain Northcott, a hero in the war against the Rhoynish.
Today, flanked by his captains, the much-beloved Commander once again confirmed his retirement in a short speech to the gathered crowd. He concluded by naming his successor: the dark horse candidate Captain Dunstan.
Drake Dunstan, while quite popular in polls among Essharan women of all ages and classes, was previously dismissed in any serious speculation. A foreigner and former sailor, Captain Dunstan is a relatively recent citizen of Esshar, and voluntarily presiding over Osrona's lower-class districts has made him something of a pariah among the upper-class.
Responding to the confusion in the crowd, Commander Oersted only had this to say: "Captain Northcott is a greater man than most, to be sure - but I believe Captain Dunstan is more appropriate for the era." Taking the podium next, the equally confused Captain Dunstan - or Captain Drake, as he insisted upon repeatedly - spoke next: "The modern Watch is made up of the same poor and downtrodden that I've cared for during my entire career," he told reporters, speaking in a slight accent that betrayed his nature as an outsider, "And while Captain Northcott is a better man than I could ever hope to be, I'll do what I can all the same. I know I've only lived here for a few years, but Osrona is the first real home I've ever had. I just want to do what's right by it."
A reporter from the Arendale district of the city raised his hand first, asking "Captain Drake" to repeat himself, citing that his dialect was "offensively incomprehensible." Instantaneously, the Captain shouted several things that cannot be legally reproduced in this paper and rolled up his sleeves before being gently subdued by some of the constables under his command.
Watch Captain Dunstan, due to be promoted at the beginning of the new year, is expected to be disciplined for this outburst. Captain Northcott refused to comment.
Newly appointed Watch Commander Dunstan clipped a few copies of this article and others like it out of several different newspapers, proudly pasting them around various empty walls in the Constabulary Headquarters. Most constables can't read a word of it, of course, so it is a largely pointless gesture. He's still proud.
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| Last Free of Clan |
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Posted by: Theori - 11-22-2019, 11:48 AM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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![[Image: tdxSfOs.png]](https://i.imgur.com/tdxSfOs.png) Quote:Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. The needle pierced her skin, repetitively, rhythmically. Two lines down, two across. The first, sweeping up from its leftmost end, a sharp digression from the end back inwards, the shifting up and back out. The second, a more gentle curve to the right. She'd come of age over a week ago, her rite of passage smaller than it should have been, performed in secret with another clan rather than celebrated by all those who'd passed this year in her own. Her golden armring glinted proudly on her forearm, proof that the Essharan's couldn't take everything from her. From them. Even that was tainted by the knowledge that many of the same made up some Last Sight bastard's trophy collection. Her Father's armring, passed down from the head of the Clan since an Arsali served their people as High Lord, centuries ago, made into a shiny sign of a stolen victory. Just the thought of it sickened her. He was gone. All of them were, dead or enslaved. But not her. She remained, the last free of her Clan. The last of the Arsali.
Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Finally, the needle ceased. It was inked over her heart now, proudly, the clanmark of Arsali. That mark that linked her with her lost people, with all her ancestors. She was Arsali. They marked themselves in honour of their clan, of their history, of their victory over their enemies.
She was determined that come her death, no inch of her would remain unmarked.
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| A Cry For Help - House Morneau |
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Posted by: EquivalentExchange - 11-22-2019, 03:45 AM - Forum: Pre-Meranthe
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A Cry For Help
The light of the sun is finally snuffed out. Families who had been visiting their loved ones had finally come and gone. The darkness pushes in on a silver-haired teenager, speaking quietly.
"There was a lot on my mind today, Grandfather." Strokes from a pen fill the night beside a cricket's chirp. "I still don't understand why I'm here -- Why is it that nobody attempts to understand me?" The teenager, for all his melancholy words, seemed to be smiling. Coping. "Or why you had to go and leave me with Him." His smile fades, replaced by bubbling anger. "You don't care - My Uncle should never have been born. He ruined everything. You ruined everything." The same song and dance, every other day --
The teenager's diary falls from his grip, control overturned, lost to the harsh summer winds.
![[Image: Bio-Entries.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/cJ7sFKmR/Bio-Entries.png)
Quickly, the collection of entries is taken back in hand.
"I'll talk to you later... Grandfather. I'm sorry."
Wordlessly the teenager collects his belongings, hood pulled over his messy hair, and then departs.
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![[Image: 8xaXcPk.png]](https://i.imgur.com/8xaXcPk.png)
![[Image: 1520779846420.jpg]](https://archive-media-1.nyafuu.org/bant/image/1520/77/1520779846420.jpg)
![[Image: Dame_Marie.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/185267133511368706/647547094466560049/Dame_Marie.png)
![[Image: log.png]](https://i.ibb.co/ZNSXk49/log.png)
![[Image: test.png]](https://i.ibb.co/qxwnPk0/test.png)
![[Image: test2.png]](https://i.ibb.co/StGWT88/test2.png)
![[Image: test1.png]](https://i.ibb.co/Fzr5QXK/test1.png)
![[Image: Exarch-Playby.png]](https://i.ibb.co/tXjc3v2/Exarch-Playby.png)
![[Image: Bruh.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/XvWgRhwR/Bruh.jpg)
