- Joined
- May 24, 2020
- Messages
- 303
- Reaction score
- 916
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- Age
- 30
These notices would be published throughout Crookback in hasty manner, each parchment encased in its own little pocket of warm foliage. The paper seemed slightly wilted in humidity of balmy mornings, much akin to the one who had spread them over the land to begin with.
Your people suffer. They've cried out many times, only to be met with silence. Silence fallen upon hot ears. Those in purple-tainted skins and glowing violet eyes hunt on the weak as we continue to attempt to rebuild our small "City" from already so much oppression... this is the perfect opportunity for the enemy to sweep in, to take the what little is ours and plunder all our hard works. I ask you... where is the Council in all of this?
I have taken it upon myself to protect as much as I can, but I am only one Desprincess, as are the others whom I see continuously put in effort to make this a better place, all of which do not have a seat within the Council, save for a small handful. When people like us try to copycat empires, states, such as Dorkarth for example... it never ends well. And why is that? We are corrupted in nature by the Void, the majority, and the Void welcomes chaos. Instead of denying who we are and what we embrace, let us instead channel what comes natural to better pursue the natures and ways of what thrives within us, and use it to our wills, as It wills, to better preserve the lives of Its vessels.
Many conflicts arise, fertilized by ignorance and a hasty hand which tears down the works of what we've built up. You fight amongst yourselves, forgetting the common enemy, which continues to thrive daily whilst we sit festering in the cracks of this Void-forsaken Empire. You neglect your people. You've attempted to become like the Nobles who only know power; power that they themselves don't even know how to use.
The law is a system built upon a superiority complex stricken by greedy mundane Ailor who use it to do nothing but oppress the enlightened. There is no such thing as Good or Evil when you set foot within Regalia, it is only Order or Chaos. Oppression, recession. It's a continuous cycle. People come here to die, and now I ask of you, let your people thrive. They put trust in you, and for what? Hope? Your people are being choked out, like ivy winding upon the sides of a once sturdy brick house, by endless oppression from the Empire as well as those which do not belong entering our sewers, tearing at the seams what we've been building up. Mercenaries, guards, the Sihndar, Vampire Hunters, the Archbloods, and more... they are all upon us, bearing a heavy weight upon our already broken shoulders.
I — No, they call upon the Crookback Council now in desperation to either act, or purge themselves back from whenst they came. You say you shall protect them... they need you now. Though I myself am no commoner, I speak for the lowly chittering sprouts whose maws snap in horror at all that is being laid upon them. No one can leave their homes without getting attacked. I myself cannot leave my own domain without fearing for my life, much less my members. You call yourselves a council... counsel your people, or forever hold your peace.
Mother Wymarc
Desprincess of the Athanasia Scion
Lady of the Gallovian Caves
Blossom of the Murk

Your people suffer. They've cried out many times, only to be met with silence. Silence fallen upon hot ears. Those in purple-tainted skins and glowing violet eyes hunt on the weak as we continue to attempt to rebuild our small "City" from already so much oppression... this is the perfect opportunity for the enemy to sweep in, to take the what little is ours and plunder all our hard works. I ask you... where is the Council in all of this?
I have taken it upon myself to protect as much as I can, but I am only one Desprincess, as are the others whom I see continuously put in effort to make this a better place, all of which do not have a seat within the Council, save for a small handful. When people like us try to copycat empires, states, such as Dorkarth for example... it never ends well. And why is that? We are corrupted in nature by the Void, the majority, and the Void welcomes chaos. Instead of denying who we are and what we embrace, let us instead channel what comes natural to better pursue the natures and ways of what thrives within us, and use it to our wills, as It wills, to better preserve the lives of Its vessels.
Many conflicts arise, fertilized by ignorance and a hasty hand which tears down the works of what we've built up. You fight amongst yourselves, forgetting the common enemy, which continues to thrive daily whilst we sit festering in the cracks of this Void-forsaken Empire. You neglect your people. You've attempted to become like the Nobles who only know power; power that they themselves don't even know how to use.
The law is a system built upon a superiority complex stricken by greedy mundane Ailor who use it to do nothing but oppress the enlightened. There is no such thing as Good or Evil when you set foot within Regalia, it is only Order or Chaos. Oppression, recession. It's a continuous cycle. People come here to die, and now I ask of you, let your people thrive. They put trust in you, and for what? Hope? Your people are being choked out, like ivy winding upon the sides of a once sturdy brick house, by endless oppression from the Empire as well as those which do not belong entering our sewers, tearing at the seams what we've been building up. Mercenaries, guards, the Sihndar, Vampire Hunters, the Archbloods, and more... they are all upon us, bearing a heavy weight upon our already broken shoulders.
I — No, they call upon the Crookback Council now in desperation to either act, or purge themselves back from whenst they came. You say you shall protect them... they need you now. Though I myself am no commoner, I speak for the lowly chittering sprouts whose maws snap in horror at all that is being laid upon them. No one can leave their homes without getting attacked. I myself cannot leave my own domain without fearing for my life, much less my members. You call yourselves a council... counsel your people, or forever hold your peace.
Mother Wymarc
Desprincess of the Athanasia Scion
Lady of the Gallovian Caves
Blossom of the Murk