<A-RP> The Kingdom of Arathor: Retired

Moon Guard
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A note on names:
Everen's last name is not Óréttr, it is Corelas. The MRP name (Thane Everen Óréttr) is actually his first name and a reference to the name given him during the Palatine Crisis (Everen the Unjust).

Thus, his MRP name is actually Thane Everen the Unjust - and calling him Óréttr is a terrible insult. The name was chosen specifically to be evocative of the naming of leaders and prominent figures throughout history, where a second 'name' was given to them posthumously or even during their life (e.g. Aethelraed Unraed, or 'Aethelraed the Unready' (Better translated as 'ill-advised'.)
No, we're not dead, even though I've gotten awfully slack about bumping this thread.

This Friday (the 8th) we're holding another market, this time at 7PM. Show up, bring your goods, and trade with us and each other. Bring anything you like - sacks of grain, bottles of perfume, copper trinkets, strange artifacts from outland - and try your luck!
One peculiar wedding custom I was able to witness during my sojourn was the ritualized stabbing of a tree, located outside the wedding chapel and well-marred with many old injuries.

The custom dictates that the groom stab the tree as deep as possible, and that the depth of the cut will show the strength of the marriage. All phallic connotations aside, could this be another remainder of the Heathen practices of the pre-Imperial tribes?
- The Strange Customs of the Highlands
For every bushel of wheat that is brought into the Kingdom shall be levied three groats in fee, or one half-gallon thereof. - the Code
In addition to tomorrow's market day, we have a Petty Court on the Ninth at 8PM. Show up, or don't, and present your business.
What an exciting market! Very little trade, but much bigger things.
I fought beside some Highlanders in the War. Never met a man so stubborn, so mulishly proud, as they was. Also never met a man with so much reason to be. All that talk of how only a dwarf can hold ground better, that's true. Saw one stand against half a dozen fel-hunters at Hyjal, alone. Killed four of them before they brought him down.

I'm sorry. Most of them that survived and stayed in Theramore after, they stuck there to the end. Wouldn't get on the boats. Had one more fight, they said. Stubborn bastards, the lot of them.
- Anonymous Theramore Survivor, when asked about the fate of the remnants of the Stromgarde Brigade
Despite the recent upheavals in the Highlands, know that the Kingdom of Arathor remains dedicated to establishing a strong and open Highlands roleplay community, and to providing help for any other Arathor (or other, for that matter) guild, whether it be in the form of legal resolutions, trade agreements, or simple cross-guild interactions.
I am told I am a fine poet.

This is news to me, as I cannot string together even a single verse.
Try as you might, war inevitably comes to the Highlands. More details to follow in the next few days.
Let it be known that the Tiberius Never-Duke, the Bastard Spawn of Tritus Ofríkirinn, has seen fit to defy his Grace Danath of the House of Trollbane, and declare himself King of Stromgarde in contravention of the laws! Tiberius Never-Duke is thus declared outlaw for his crimes, and all good men are encouraged to shun him and those who follow him.

Faced with the prospect of a court deciding unfavourably on the matter of his Ducal claim, Tiberius Never-Duke drew a blade in a place of law and peace, and assaulted the Palatine of Stromgarde, nearly felling him. After a long and bloody skirmish that threatened the civilian population, the forces of the Palatinate withdrew, to avoid undue harm to the ancient city.

I, Thane Everen who is Palatine, have survived the coward Tiberius's attempt on my life and found safety in the home of loyal supporters of his Grace. The lawful government of Stromgarde - indeed, of Arathor itself - has been toppled in his bloodthirsty coup, but we remain alive and prepare even now to retake our homeland once the plantings have been completed. I will not allow Stromgarde, man's ancestral home, the ancient friend-state to Dwarf and Elf and ancestral foe of the Trollfolk, to fall into the hands of such a weak-willed and cowardly man.

All those willing to offer their swords or support to the effort to restore law, order, and the King's own rule to Stromgarde will be received with dignity and given a chance for respect, honour, and wealth, and the undying gratitude of the people of Stromgarde, who even now chafe under the reign of a self-imposed tyrant's martial law; buildings burn, women are taken in the streets, and the sacred places of law run red with blood.

I, Thane Everen, will not rest until my homeland is restored, and its focus turned once more to its eternal duty as mankind's sword and shield against the foreign hordes that threaten our very existence. Until we are returned home, you will know the true sons of Stromgarde by our black tabards. Only when Stromgarde is liberated will we again wear the Red of the Highlands.
- Proclamation of Thane Everen the Outlawed, c. 626, in response to the Tiberian Coup
We still live. The tabard will be red again someday.
Oh - It's black now?

Oh boy.
Come join us in the Highlands.

Where men are men.
Where women are men.
Where dogs are men.
Where everything are men.
Despite recent developments, the Kingdom of Arathor does still exist, will be continuing its exile storyline, and will continue to hold to it's own laws rather than Hellissa's. Thank you.
Daverold stands upon many dead trolls, bare chested. "I love the smell of victory. Victory and troll guts."

He drives a flag pole in to the skull of his nearest victim. "You there! Quit lookin' girly like and put on that tabard! Shout like a warrior! Pick up that sword back up in the name of your king!"

The two men look up the pole, each shedding a single tear. A flag waves about in the wind. "We're going to be alright son, we're going to be alright"

"True story!" Daverold says as he drinks heavily from a bottle of elven wine

"But you're from Stormwind. And aren't you with that filth Ever- " *Smash* The poor man is glassed by the blacksmith before he could finish.

"Shut up guy."
I do this for you, red legions, for I love you!
Wars over, RED TABARD HO!
Wars over, RED TABARD HO!

Not yet it ain't.
We are told that the ancient customs which we follow are fictions, created by fools. But when I look at those who tell us this, Aref, I see only people who are profoundly divorced from their roots, who openly prefer the foreign customs of Stormwind or Lordaeron.

I know that my years spent in the south have lead many at home to wonder if I have not fallen prey to the idleness of thought that the soft Southern lands creates, but I look on our detractors and I see it is the opposite. It is by seeing first-hand a people who have chosen to forget their past that I ward myself against lazy thought.
- Excerpt from a letter sent by the Thane Everen to his brother and seneschal, Aref Corelas, c. 626 KY

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