A lesson in will

There once was a forgetful wood elf with a gift for finding doors. He had"Owen" written on his cloak, so that he would know his name.

Now his cloak says "Santet killed me." Now his body hangs from a tree near Finn Castle.

Santet's mouth will kill more.

-Necalli
 
Nah, Necali just likes to leave prizes at people's metaphorical doorstep with little notes attached.

It lets him sleep better at night. Makes him feel more secure in his power to attempt to instil terror in people, moreso now because so much has changed in recent weeks.

Now he needs us to fear him because he has so much more to fear from us. Plus I think he just likes throwing temper tantrums.

-P
 
Oh I know. It's still good advice that Necali should perhaps take ;)
From what I understand, his time in this world is almost up.
Trevor
 
Lord Vryan's edict regarding the taunting of foes of the Hollow on this message board has not been rescinded. The next person to do so will be fined a truly unreasonable sum of gold.

In Service,
Justicar Magistrate Tellespen Rookwall
 
Out of respect for Lord Vryan, and that respect alone, I am going to try very hard not to mock you, Necalli.

What the ****, Necalli? Why would you do that? The animosity this community has for you is already blinding; it is a bright, everburning beacon of '**** You' that can be seen from the Hunting Grounds to the Ghostwood Isle. I honestly don't mean to incite you; it's demonstrable fact. It's a hatred that outburns the sun itself. The only things I've met that don't hate you are those who don't know you yet. Does that hate really need to be brighter?

Are you trying to send a message? Because, even though I can't speak for him, I'm pretty sure Santet does not give a **** how upset you are, or that you felt you had to kill an elf to demonstrate how mad you are. Why do it? You're a smart Vampire; dumb Vampires don't live as long as you have.

Clearly you've got some plans, or a message you want to get through. I thought it had something to do with an Oath*, but I'm willing to bet Owen the Elf wasn't one of your trusted lieutenants. If you want to send a message, you've got an open stage, Necalli. The nobles have even quieted those who would boo you off of it.

- Surion

* The Shiney Dreadfuls, Volume 7, Issue 3 has an overview that I'm just going to assume is accurate
 
Nai nai nai Childe. I hope you are a wealthy man, as I am not and I take the Magistrate at his word. Leave words behind, a Heirophan's currency is deeds. We shall speak more in person.

Dlitel'nyy srok sluzhby i mozhet zvezdy napravlyat' vas,

Ria Vladimir Ulionov Dragovich
 
Ogromnoe spasibo, Ria. The Hierophan are subject to the law of Eire while they remain within her bounds. I will speak to you at the next gather, Childe Surion.

Rookwall
 
The body of "Owen" has been taken to the Finn Castle barracks. He is a male Sylvan, one who was once known for helping adventurers, I am told; evidently it was adventurers who gave him the name "Owen". If any know of his family or other relations, please inform a representative at the barracks at your earliest opportunity.

For the safety of our non-adventuring populace, please heed the First Knight of the Hollow Bastion's edict and refrain from openly mocking enemies of the Crown. It is not cowardice to protect those who cannot protect themselves, even if it means holding your tongue and wounding your pride. It is your responsibility as powerful adventurers to wield that power appropriately.

In Trust,
~Justicar Lindarien Temoris, Finn Castle Bastion
 
As ever; I am a citizen of Eire. I have been entrusted to protect' Queen' and have laid Dragon' low at my feet. No one speak' for me, other than myself and those who I have employed to do so.

I will present myself lawfully and accept whatever punishment; that is deemed necessary by the proper authority', at the earliest possible convenience. As I alway' do.

If I ever knew "Owen"... I'm getting old and honestly don't remember. Nevertheless, his untimely death sadden' me, truly. I take solace in the fact that I have a heart with which I still feel.

Owen, I hope that no more door' are locked to you now.

-Santet
 
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