Ovidsidios

Well it's about undermining the competition, and when you cry "mom" first, sadly it seems to garner the results you're so desperately in desire of... Kind of disappointed that you took this route. I used to have the utmost respect for you and your personality that, in lieu of the events that have proceeded, could not have further lost the depth of admiration that I knew you to have. It's a shame that, for whatever reason, you would have found the need to resort to these baseless actions to get what you want. I used to think that the circumstances behind the events between splintered BFF members weren't a product of the origins of our regressive patterns. But I shudder to think that Europa is the mire of which scum is bred, especially after the correspondences between I and former Europa members. Shall I declare that you, Kongo Jack, are that insurmountable level of disappointment? ♫dun dun, nyoow dun dun nyowww SAY IT AIN'T SOOOOOOO♫

Anundil Sirobeir walked through the stone streets of the city. It didn't at all puzzle him that they were completely empty, or that each stand, shop, and home were opened as usual during the day (save that the patrons were no where to be found). He sauntered up the streets pausing for a moment. The instant was long drawn. The world around him was cloudy, bleak, almost suspended. As if things were stilled indefinitely...and that feeling. A presence. Was he being followed? He looked calmly in all directions as if trying to hide the fact he was looking for someone in this empty place. The world was still so very, very empty. He kept walking, as if he were taking his daily stroll, but the feeling of being followed, being watched, the feeling of something hanging over him seemed to creep incessantly at his heels. A whisper. Was he just hearing things? He grasped at his side to ensure he was ready were an encounter to occur...but his weapon was gone. His heart skipped a beat, did I leave it? Impossible, I'm never...There it was again, only this time, fairly louder. For whatever reason, despite all his years of discipline and training, he felt it surging up inside him. Tiny black hands clawing their way up his spine, groping his torso, licking the back of his hears. He felt like a child, wanting to yell, to cry out. Fear had gripped him firmly, and he was immobilized. No further progress could be had. No subtle motions could be made. The voice was getting louder who am I? but he couldn't discern from where it was coming from who am I? It seemed to be echoing all around him who am I? Louder and louder, now it was directly above him. He jerkily thrust his head skyward WHO AM I?! Anundil's eyes opened sharply. The sudden, near quiet stir of his movement startled the horses surrounding him. It took him a second to assess where he was, but he was back in the stables. The stable boy who was raised to revere the Bladian Sect (perhaps even pity them) has been more than willing to allow Anundil to sleep with the horses, who then had jokingly remarked that more often in life animals were treated better than their respective masters. He passed his hand over his side. His weapon, a somewhat miniaturized saber, was still firmly strapped to his belt. Another dream he thought to himself. He stretched as if to assure is paralysis was but the product of his imagination, and it was. He stood up and leaned on the horse whose hay pile he had used just moments ago. It was the princes horse, and a fine breed of horse it was. "That is some really fine hay," he said as the horse swayed in slight annoyance to such an early morning disturbance. The light of the morning was still tucked well below the horizon. This morning, Anundil would see the mobilization of the entire Bladian Sect, a company of men and women near thirty thousand strong, as the would march to Kings Landing and then north towards the wall. Days ago Juri had spoken in private to Anundil for his advice, but Anundil would not budge on the matter, "I am not one of your counselors, my Lord. Command, and we shall obey." By the Seven, we will be worthy again... He proceeded out of the stables, brushing the last remaining strands of straw from his clothes. Elisa, one of the Seven Blades and in charge of the training of recruits, had spotted him and was now approaching her leader. After the ceremonial salutation, where each party's arms cross the others like an 'x'-back of hands facing the other-and then collapse resting on the other's forearms, followed by a nod and then the words "Of the Sword", Elisa smirked, "in the stables again? If it were humility you were seeking, perhaps you ought try your hand at begging". Anundil did not return her humor with his own, "The Warrior presented himself to our Great Father as a beggar. It is enough that if our god can humble himself, so too can we do the same." Understanding his mood, Elisa snapped to a more formal tone, "The other Blades are awake and awaiting your presence in the Sheath (the tent by which they held council). Another thing," both of them stopped and looked at each other. Words were unnecessary but a formality regarding what was to follow, "the seer has been spoken to. It is indeed that our march northward is no mortal bidding alone..." she paused, as if to keep herself from losing her composure, "could this be it? Is this the redemption we had long been waiting for?" Anundil's cool gaze did not break from hers, though in her weakness she turned away, "I'm sorry. That was unbecoming of a fellow Bladian." Anundil thought it would have been best not to respond, but some token of mercy behooved him otherwise, "and if it turns out that it isn't, do we cease to be Bladians? Hold no expectations as our Great Father did not, and do what is expected of you. Only then can we begin to hope for the return of a life long since revoked." She snapped a clenched fist to her heart, and turned to walk ahead of him into the camp. Father, Mother, Justice and Mercy, Night and Day, Sun and Moon, who suffers the many for so long over the crime of one? How much longer will we, your children, wonder the fields without a shepherd, lay our heads beneath starless skies? Shall your name perish beyond the fold, never knowing pardon? Freedom once more? As the rays of sunlight broke over the tree line, a serenity overcame him as if a part of the warmth of that morning light. He took a deep breath and proceeded into the Sheath, the only tent left standing where once countless others stood among it. Caravans, cavalry, foot soldiers, all had been assembled and were making the final preparations. Any man and woman that looked up soon enough to catch him striding by, bowed respectively to Anundil before he disappeared into the tent. All remaining six members stood around the only table. No maps, no chairs, nothing else was in this tent save those seven members and that single, circular table. "We travel north not for King, land, nor glory. No wealth in all the lands could compel us, nor force of any army. We march always and every day, that we may one day see the forgiveness for that disobedience committed so long ago." He passed his gaze over the council members slowly, and they returned his gaze with pious affirmation, "And if that day shall never come, who are we to stand in dissent?" Each council member responded back in unison, "For the will of the sword is the will of the arm that wields it!" "We are of the sword", replied Anundil. "And the Seven is our will" "May it be so", he concluded and with that they followed Anundil out of the tent. Upon exiting the entire army stood ready and waiting. Each of the seven blades broke company and headed to their respective horse, caravan, or marching infantry. Anundil, motioned for the army to head out ahead of him as he rode into the city for his formal escorting of the king's son. He stopped at the main gate, and pondered to himself, I do very much detest those loud ceremonies... And with that awaited the arrival of Juri on his way out of the Castle hold and city walls. Maybe I should try my hand at begging. Smirking patiently, he basked in the light of the rising morning sun.

Hahahaha This is nearly incomprehensible. The fact that you would even draw comparisons to such events is beyond laughable. You are almost the sheer manifestation of dumb. This game is literally about both diplomacy and war. Just because you don't want to play one facet doesn't mean everyone else is going to stop engaging to the likings of their nation to accommodate you. Which seems to be exactly what you're asking of your aggressors. Q.Y.B. and just war it til it's over. It sounds like you're complaining for having to make a few extra clicks when you log in. It's not like: a). you actually have a future war to consider storing up your WC for and b). anything exciting was going to happen anyway. Every gardener knows their crops run the risk of insect infestation. When such events occurs, does the farmer complain like a baby? No. He gets his pesticide and goes to work. Go to work, boi, or go back to daycare. Players at play

I just...can't...the confusion...

Oh Rota, however can I repay your ceaseless kindness and consideration?

In Zealot Voice: My life for Allarchon

Words can not describe the speechlessness

Bladian House [Banner no longer. Passed down stories depict a seven pointed star with a straight sword pointed upward, and a scimitar crossing perpendicular with the curve bowing downward. Both swords were center of the star with a teal colored background and the words "Of The Sword" as house motto] The Bladian House (or House Bladian) is a house dissimilar to many others. Unlike Houses that originated through progony, marriage, conquest, or wealth, House Bladian was the product of divine patronage. Legend has it that a warrior had been traveling on road near the lands of Freyentes. Upon reaching a crossroads found a couple of highway men about to rob and likely kill a poor beggar man. At the risk of his life, the warrior killed all the highwaymen in armed combat and saved the beggar. Instead of the fallen bodies decaying as they would have, they instead vanished and only the beggar and the nameless warrior remained. The beggar revealed himself to be one of the faces of the seven, and instructed him to travel further down the road until he came about a liege and his house. Before he left, the beggar changed the warriors name to Bladian Croix (as a sign of favor). Bladian Croix arrived by nightfall to a lord's land and enormous mansion. The lands had been a very wealthy trade center with very peaceful neighbors. As a result, a need for building large walls and stone edifices had been neglected for centuries. However, recently a band of unified bandit tribes under a single ruler became their most recent oppressors and had fallen victim of this Bandit King's reign. Bladian Croix, visited now by the beggars more true form, the warrior, was told to meet the bandit king on the battle field alone carrying with him a sword of a deep emerald make. The challenge to the bandit king was that he would win the sword and the patronage of the divine if he succeeded in slaying Bladian Croix. If he died, the bandit army would renounce their ways and Bladian Croix would become their new leader. This event substantiated a previous dream the bandit king had, and haught with the thought of victory, accepted the challenge. Bladian Croix, the more combant capable and favored of the fighters, decapitated the bandit king in a blinding flash (a sure sign of his favor). The entire bandit king army, a score of thousands, who witnessed the battle rejected their allegiance to the Bandit King and swore allegiance to Bladian Croix. With no longer the trade routes pillaged by bandits, or heavy taxes upon the city, House Bladian was formed and boomed with economic success. That night during the celebrations, the warrior visited Bladian Croix for the final time, and told him to never lose sight of how his prominence was a gift from the seven. Therefore, as the only condition to maintaining his house, fame, wealth, and lands no warrior who'd pledged fealty under the banner of Bladian was allowed to wed or have children. This sign would ensure that no one man or woman ever forgot that it was the gods, not their own merits, that would ensure their survival. And for hundreds of years that vow never faltered. Until one night, in secret, the heir to House Bladian broke the oath and married. The blind seer who was used to scry into the lives of the warriors to know who had broken the oath (their immediate execution to please the seven and maintain their favor) was forbidden from scrying on the leader of House Bladian. As a result, The Warrior of the Seven revealed himself for the final time cursing the House Bladian and the heir prince. During the following months House Bladian saw a tumult of economic failures, raids, internal strife, and the eventual conquering armies of House Fyrentes (whose banner in similar likeness to that of House Bladian was the coup de grâce of their lost favor with the seven). The King of the army, seeing their impressive warrior skills (and even some in their unyielding zeal as some act of contrition) decided to enslave the Bladian warriors in service to house Fyrentes. The warriors, houseless, hopeless, and without favor, accepted the terms of surrender. Now they serve as mystic warriors to the house in the hopes that their devotion and loyalty to their warrior conquerors will regain them the favor they lost so long ago. Though they must swear oath to the words "Ever Unbending, Ever Unbroken" inscribed on many warriors still are those words, to that old house: "Of The Sword" Anundil Sirobeir-The current mystic leader to the Bladian Warriors. He speaks little, and when he does, it is only to the seven blades (a pseudo government for maintaining the large body of the current warrior sect). He spends most of his time in council with Lord Juri Fyrentes, but otherwise in his free time in deep meditation and practicing his sword play. Although honored among the ranks of soldiers, he leads no army but the Bladian warriors, prefers an austere lifestyle and subsequently abstains from all frivolities where otherwise not expected him by the king (which is imitated by all Bladian warriors). His dream is to one day see the freedom of the warrior sect, and return to the lands (or new ones) under the patronage, not of the king, but The Warrior.

I've spoken to Aggron about this and I will serve as the leader of a houseless army of mystic warriors beneath his banner and to his lands. I'm about to post the bio, but yeah. Looking forward to this game :)

Oh my... In a world where appearances are the height of vanity, you proceed with such suave delivery that I would seize the man that made the former claim, tie a string around every hair on their body, and yank with wild abandon. For whatever reason this message was necessary, and I'm glad you succeeded in making it. Bravo

For these kinds of stuff, bias is unavoidable. To go with score would have been objective, but I don't think other alliances gun for war entirely on score alone. Like I would love nothing more than to see them sith punks rolled right Yolo.... (jk, obvi) Thanks for the honorable mention, I guess. As a plus I take it we wont be in the targeting reticle of those "empowered" alliances.... excellent

[spoiler]I thought we rigged the elections?![/spoiler]

Whether or not this applies to the situation, this statement is very true. And if it is an accurate representation...well...whoever said there was no such thing as bad publicity, clearly isn't witnessing this debacle ;)

Looking like a fresh start for us all. Glad we're in stride o/IRON o/FEAR

The enemy of my enemy...

I found this to be the only thing worth responding to, and just wanted to say, poetry man. ^&$%ing poetry. I know I'm 10 pages late, but here's a hail for good measure... However, after reading 10 pages I can honestly say that I've gained nothing of value. But that is irrelevant. I will say that I can respect a group of people who do them for them, and stand for their convictions and principles. It's been a long banter, and like some dude said...

Avian-Meth Syndrome?

Hehehe, wut? :ph34r:

Best regards and may all go well for you, Chax. As For Rey, hehehehehehe.....

I like YOLO, and he makes astute observations.

Hmmmm, this was...unexpected. o/Stewie o/Bloodfury As for BF1, the recipe calls to let it stand for a minute before serving to others. I will wish you all the best of luck in your new endeavors. The times are indeed a'changing

Mmmmm, what a great Yeats quote. o/IRON o/FEAR

Your righteousness will never fade, though the days darken. To those good times, said and done. We will miss you. Now onward to new and better things. o/TORN o7 Valhalla

I guess it's a class of its own, and we're all "classy" that way I thought the the gesture was nice. kudos

And the rumors of DRN's incompetence gain more and more credibility.