Among the Nations [Inactive]

[Embluss]

Among the Nations - Steer your civilization through a mythic world

Welcome to Among the Nations! I (Embluss) and Ankou are co-GMs of this roleplay.
What is this, you ask? First of all, it's a civilization roleplay. You're controlling an entire civilization, from the macro level down to controlling and developing individual citizens as characters. The core "objectives" are to develop your civilization in some way, explore new technologies, contact other players, and interact. Of course, you can do just about whatever you want (Besides breaking the laws...

Read more about this role play...


Sorry for the delay, I've been doing homework for two days straight.

 

[Embluss]

((LETS GET IT R-R-ROLLING!))


Open Ocean South of Azell Islands


Deck of the Saint Eril's Promise


After nine hours of struggle, the Saint Eril's Promise and her crew emerged from the stormclouds's shadow. They were afloat and in good spirit, as the tailwinds of the storm were strong enough that half of the quadrireme's oarsmen were relieved. By examining the few dozen stars remaining in the early dawn sky, the navigator placed them only slightly south of the Azell chain. They'd reach Aepri within days, and all that would remain between the crew and their leave would be a day's unloading.


There was puzzlement, but relief, when land came in view. Rest was nearer than they'd been told.


"Navigator, what's this we're looking at?" Asked the captain


"We're too far south to be approaching Mierna from the north. That's definitely not one of the Azells."


"Then what the is it?"


"It's either not on our maps, or I read the stars wrong. The sun was already half up, so it's not unlikely"


"You've done it fine before". After a moment's thought, he turned and called out, "Quartermaster! How many arms do we have?"


"Besides the five on deck, two ballistae in storage. There's swords enough for most of the men, just shy of a dozen bows and quivers, maybe a quarter the leather kits the crew would need, a handful of spears... We can arm a small party sir, but no warband"


"We're not looking to go rogue, just staying safe. Fully outfit as many as you can, those with combat experience first." Returning his focus to the navigator, he ordered, "Take us ashore."


((ANKOOOUUU!!!! Either greet me coming ashore or have a serpent attack my ship xD . Or surprise me . Near the small island in the NW. BSing my survival this deep into your waters by saying the storm hid my wake and kept them deep.))


-----


Holenkan, Imperial Capital of Mausol


Southern Courtyard of Fort Ilbor





"-north, and send out Barin to reinforce the division at Calra. Come winter we'll be pushing again, and they're at the front." She made a quick gesture, and the soldier rushed off, carrying orders to the extremities of the province. As he went, he passed by Datri Rausfar, who'd taken up position beneath an orange tree.


"Good day, governor!"


"Good day, soldier." He replied after a delay, looking somewhat surprised. He'd been in some sort of reverie, but the soldier couldn't tell if he'd been thinking, observing the meeting, or observing the woman leading it. It was mildly unlike the governor, perpetually short on time, to let so much tick away with little accomplished.


The soldier walked away, and decided it must be the last of the three possible reasons. He chuckled to himself, "Even the Rausfar are men". It made a certain kind of sense if that was his aim, as her family was among the most powerful in the Southern reaches of the empire, and there were few women with good, princely blood in this far-flung city.


Datri didn't hear, already up and moving as the meeting concluded. The soldier noted his short conversation with General Jiurol. Too short for the long wait to have be justified for professional reasons.


He laughed again, and then rushed off to his task.


-----


Holsarn, Imperial Seat of the Rausfar


West Holsarn Campus, Building Nine





"You're sure you want to be a part of this? You won't be able to cast for years, if ever. Hell, you could die." The old mage had concern in his eyes, almost as if he, having found a suitable subject for the first time in years, had suddenly changed his mind. "Or fates worse than death. Ceirol couldn't control the draw. He'll never know peace. He's a threat to everyone he loves. Even the trees draw back from him."


"Others have followed the same path, and returned within years." Shot back the young mage. "It's only been, what, six?"


"Seven now"


"Give him time, and give me this chance."


Resigned, the elder man answered, "Fine, I'll pass you along. You're magically and physically up to snuff, but they'll be peering into your brain. We already know you're insane" Unwithering under a glare, he added, "You're here, aren't you? Anyway, so long as no other instabilities are found you'll be on the ritual table by next month. You'll be put to some use soon thereafter."


One month later





The subject's naked form writhed on the table, runes glowing pure white all around him. Nine mages watched his unconscious form. Six were strictly necessary, but disasters had taught them to plan for every event. They each noted that the first spell was setting in a moment before it's final effect.


Within the young mage's mind, something broke. His subconscious conduit shifted and warped in function, and his body drew energy hungrily from the world. The capable men and women overseeing the ritual rebuffed the sapping, but there was a rustling as the rats in the wall perished one by one, their energy stores drawn to nil.


Noting the surge in the subject's magical energy, three mages worked as one to subdue his leeching mind and draw from his stores. At this elevated level, there was a risk of the man waking. A moment passed, and they signalled their success.


At this, the other six leapt into action. They layered spell after spell upon the subject, connected them to his own internal font, and made dozens of little adjustments upon each. They would be working long into the night.


When the sun rose, it would be greeted by a new, strange thing that had not existed upon its setting.

 

[**Schmunky**]

Top Border of Broad Fief, Sector Two


Poiliar Mountian Range


Engelb clutched the knarled stick in his large, strong hand, using it to balance himself as he stumbled over boulder and crags in the rugged mountain. The summit was in his sights; only a few steps away, but to his exhausted and dehydrated mind it seems like miles. 'Nearly there, nearly there. Do it for Chalri.' He tried to tell himself that once he was over the simmit, it would all be easy. There would be a quick climb down into the neighbouring lands, Raufsar, and he would fetch the rare plant for the necessary medicene, the medicene that would hopefull save Chalri's life. Chalri was a small boy, sick with an illness that none of the village potions or magic could remedy. It was said that the only area they this plant inhabited was just beyond the border into Raufsar.


Chalri was somewhat an idol in Jimku, his village in the top of Sector 2, County D. He was the son of the old Leader of Jimu, who had gone on to become the Duke of the whole of Sector 2, putting him in line as a future King. Engelb grinned at this thought. Chalri was loved by everyone in the village, his adorable brown eyes enchanted everyone who saw them. Not literally of course, Engelb chuckled to himself. Now, if he endured the ardeous journeym and saved Chalri's life, he was sure to get enough votes to become the new leader of Jimku, especially if he bigged up his tale a little. Throw a couple of dragons and mightly battles with the cutthroat residents of Raufsar, here and there, spice it up a little, and the whole village would adore and admire him. With that thought, he made the last two steps to the summit, and looked over at the astonishing sights of a whole new kingdom before his eyes.


The Zhamiffiefian Channel


Halfway to Murderer's Island


The wooden boat rocked vigourously as it was tossed side to side like a hot potato in the waves' grasp. The enchantment on it, as one of the two boats designed to deport villians to the infamous Murderer's Island, gave it a strong, pungent smell that supposedly repelled sea monsters. It would also repel any human, any sane human at least, and the seafarer wondered to himself why he had ever taken this job. Sure, it payed well, real Fieffian money straight from the Kollche (The High Lord of Fief, Realm Osten)'s press. But was it really worth the constant feeling of sea sickness as the boat, well, it was more of a raft than a boat, swung to and fro like a hypnotist's pendulum. And the constant danger, as his two companions were a notorious murderer, finally captured after 3 years of tracking him, and the very uncomfortable-looking Leader from his village.


His internal monologue suddenly stopped complaining, as he heard a high pitched wail, like the sound of a mournful piccolo. It froze his blood right to the core, even though the waters around him were well into the 30's temperature wise. He knew that sound, bt not from experience. From the old sailors tales, about mermaids and monsters, the tales every one thought were just myths, spilling from the dirty mouth of a drunken sailor. But now he knew otherwise. He crossed his fingers tightly, his superstitious side evident, and prayed that the elves had done the enchantment right.

 

[KillerKougami]

Aligir, (The Forest Of Warriors)


Outside The Combat Grounds





She stumbled blindly about the forest, clutching a gaping wound in her arm that had been impaled by an assailant's arrow. Najeda had been hunting for fresh meat, when she had heard the snap of a bow, and then felt an agonizing gash ripping through the flesh of her bicep. Knowing that she couldn't defend herself in that condition she began to tear through the forest in hopes that her attacker wouldn't follow suit. She didn't even have her weapon of choice on her, only a simple hunting bow, and if her attacker were an elf, she would be at a disadvantage magically as well. Once she felt that she was ample distance away, and didn't hear any signs of pursuit, she sat down to investigate her injury. This is bad. Clenching her jaw, she began to cut the piece of flesh holding the arrow in its place. Why is this arrow so large? she thought offhandedly. Letting out a slight whimper, she tore the wooden shaft from its lodging, and let it fall to the ground. If only I had worn my armor.. she thought as blood began to puddle down the front of her shirt. Najeda then began to notice that her wound began to burn, until it felt as if she had stuck her arm straight into a flame. Oh my gosh, it's poisonous. Her eyes began to roll back, as she fell face down into the damp and musty earth.


---


"Where the hell is she at?!" Sabellius shouted as he paced back and forth across the camp, looking to the forest for any signs of his baby sister. The glimmering lanterns around the edge of the camp gave no view into the deep forests of Ellisium.


"The night is in full coverage now, I wouldn't suggest that you go look until dawn, or you might be loose your way as well. Najeda isn't senseless, she probably went out to far, and knew she wouldn't make it back before sunset." Muttering casually, Felix gave no comfort to the young warrior.


"Or maybe your sweet baby sister is all alone, and shes waiting for her big brother to come and rescue her!" Mocking Sabellius in a whiney tone, Lidiya sat against the base of a tree filing one of the spikes on her flail.


"Shut it, Lidiya. Its not like you would be willing to go out to the woods. You're petrified of the night." Sabellius began to tie his cloak around his broad shoulders as he paced back and forth grabbing his sword and sliding his feet into his leather boots.


Lidiya sprang like a cat from her crouched position with a fire in her eyes. "You wanna bet, pretty boy? Lets go find the little lamb."


---


The moonlight barely peaked through the tree coverage as Sabellius and Lidiya trailed through the forest looking for any signs of Najeda. Suddenly, Lidiya stopped in her tracks. She was bent over, inspecting something with her hands.


"Oh shi.." Lidiya's voice trailed off as she lifted her palms for Sabellius to inspect. They were dripping in crimson blood crusted with mud and debris. The young warriors sprinted in the direction the trail of blood was coming from. They came around a clump of trees and saw a small form collapsed in the dirt. Sabellius kneeled over to grasp his sisters crumpled form.


"Oh Najeda..." Sabellius could only clutch onto his sister's bloodied form as Lidiya stood still, staring at the life barely holding on.


--- 6 Years Later


"Argh!" Najeda swung her blade only to be matched by a shielded Lidiya. Lidiya then proceed to whip her flail lazily as her fighting partner sidestepped just barely to keep up. The more advanced warrior took this lapse in attention to nail her opponent in the knees with a swift kick.


"Umph!" Najeda landed on her right arm with a slight wince in defeat. She looked up in surprise as her opponent's resilient form loomed over her.


Lidiya grabbed the young warriors chin to force her into meeting her piercing gaze. "Still holding back because of that arm? You're never going to get better if you don't forget about that phantom wound. You'll die in your first battle, little one." Lidiya released her grip and stretched her built arms, as if to say, that was only a warm up.


Najeda sat up, leaning back with her good arm to support her weight. She sighed in exasperation, tracing her fingers over the horizontal scar across her bicep. I will get stronger, and I'll kill the one who gave me this scar.





(Sooooo! Does anyone want to be that archer?? It can give a bit of tension to start.)


Euphemia, The Capitol


Council of The Yefim and the King and Queen





The group of slender elves seated themselves in their usual positions around the expansive mahogany table, positioned to face the thrones of the King and Queen. Everything in the capital was massive and beautiful, all handcrafted and polished for the delight of the royal race. Each elf was dressed in their usual attire, everything down to the buttons on their waistcoats were crafted to impress. They exchanged the usual small talk until Tadeusz and Iulia made their entrance into the throne room. Each elf stood and bowed in greeting to their beloved King and Queen. Once they were positioned in their thrones, the usual meeting began, and affairs discussed.


"There has been another request of royal funds from Klement Forgers. They claim to need it for trading purposes, some of the minerals necessary for this year's round of weaponry are low." Afanasiy Obraztov sighed in annoyance at yet another request in the past three months for royal funds. It's not that he necessarily didn't like the Forgers, he just didn't agree with the army having to many weapons. Something is amiss with this, Dorothea may need to accompany me to pay a visit to Klement.


"Well if it is necessary for our warriors, then I see nothing wrong with sending a few funds their way." Tadeusz, being in a jovial mood replied to the irritated Afanasiy. His irritation was even more apparent on hearing the king's reply; as a few of the scrolls coasted off of the table in response to the powerful elf's mind. A few of his counterparts shrank away, except for Dorothea. She leaned in with a lopsided grin and started to whisper in his ear ~


"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll talk to Sevastian and Valeri. I-" She stopped with a frown furling her brow as she looked over Afanasiy's shoulder towards the entrance of the throne room. Afanasiy turned to glance and saw that some sort of commotion was forcing the doors open. He stood gracefully and adjusted his gloves in case a threat was to interrupt their council.


"Oh don't be like that!" Came the sound of an authoritative males voice. The doors to the grand room were pushed open to reveal The Twin Arcs, as they say, Konstantin and Constantine Svetlana. They were in full armor, covered in dirt, obviously back from an extensive trip.


"Welcome back!" The king stood and opened his arms in greeting. "Come! Sit" He snapped his fingers at a nearby attendant to bring refreshments for the Warriors. The strongest and brightest of The Archi definitely upheld their positions, they were tall and broad, easily three times as brawny as the average elf.


"Your interrupting." Afanasiy interjected, still standing. Konstantin was already deep in conversation with the king about the latest adventures, but the other blonde twin met the officious gaze of Afanasiy with a smirk.


"Oh, calm down Obraztov." Constantine strutted over to Afanasiy and proceeded to bring her face close to his, almost nose to nose. "I'll crush your brain in." She smiled sweetly with a wink, exchanging their usual offensive greetings.


"I'll crush your spirit and mind, dear." Afanasiy replied in contempt. Not breaking her glare, Afanasiy snapped at a nearby attendant.


"Clean up the mess that these two drug in, and let me know when our meeting can be continued." He then turned and strutted out the throne room doors, leaving a leering Constantine, and an annoyed Dorothea in his absence.

 

[Rynnki]

Laonaroa, The Capital


The King's Meeting Room





"For the last time, Argus, we are not going to war with the Rausfars just for the little bit of land they have north of us that isn't in the Torrid Zone." Selven Lii'Arte, King of Laon, sat in his presiding chair at the head of the meeting table, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "There is plenty of land to the west of them that is unclaimed and ready for annexation. There is no need for a war just for that little stretch of land."


"And that is exactly what they think as well!" Argus Zom, Councilor of War, thumped the table with obvious animation. "If it wasn't for their holdings on our continent, we would be the undisputed leaders of the western world! Their holdings in the Torrid Zone can't be well defended; With one quick strike, we can wipe them off our map and secure our position as supreme-"


"Let me cut you off there Argus." Selven took his hand away from his eyes and locked eyes with his overly bloodthirsty advisor. "We are somewhat friendly with the Principality at the moment, and I intend to keep it that way."


Argus grumbled to himself and slid back down into his seat as his Economics advisor cleared her throat and began speaking.


"We are doing rather well money-wise. Most of Laon's profits come from inner-country trading, and about 30% is made from trading with other countries, mainly the Rausfars and Zhamiffiefia. No official trade agreements yet, just deals made between Civilia and other regions."


"That's it? No trade with other countries?"


"I'm afraid not, my King. Because of the equator, our ships have to stay in the southern hemisphere or risk being sunk by the storms."


Selven slumped slightly in his seat. "That is indeed a problem. If only we had an easier way of crossing the Zone..."


"Oh! That reminds me!" The Councilor of Economics searched through her papers, eventually pulling out a single sheet. "Civilia seems to be pouring a large part of their profits and money into financing a project. Something about... Mechanical conduits?"


Solanova


Research Institute of Solanova





Amalia Silveen strode through the halls of the Research Institute of Solanova, her steps echoing through the large and silent halls. The RIS was the center of most of the research done in Laon, ranging from medicine to smithing to new ways to build. Amalia though was here for something a little more groundbreaking.


After finally finding the room she was looking for, the half-elf opened the large double doors to the room where change was born. A single scientist, an older man with white hair, moved in a frenzied way about a large table that was covered in parchments and blueprints. The man barely noticed her as she slowly walked towards him and the center table, taking measured looks at various papers that were covered in diagrams and blueprints for something that looked like a hollow cylinder.


"Will the finished product look this when it is complete?" She asked him as she traced a design with one slender finger. Clearly spooked, the man jumped before realizing who it was that snuck up on him.


"Oh, ah, Miss Amalia! I didn't expect you to come visit me so soon, or in person."


"I like to take things into my own hands, Mr. Cobul. It keeps messages from having their meaning garbled."


"Ah, very clever of you. Yes, the final conduit will- or should- look like the blueprints. It is the perfect shape to allow the magical energy to move from Font to Focus, and if my science does not fail me, it does not need power to run! It's sensors pick up a font being activated at the front, and it transfers that energy and moves it like any other Font! Well, in theory."


"Mmm, theory is all I need right now. Keep working hard, Mr. Cobul, and put Civilia's money to good use."

 

[Embluss]

North Samifeha ((Yes, I rewrote Zhamiffiefia to look more like an Oesti name))


North Face of the Poiliar Range


A wide, wild stretch of ground opened itself before the Zhamiffiefian as he crested the mountains. Dense tropical forests dominated the lowlands, fed by the flow of warm, wet air from the oceans of the torrid zone. The effect was further amplified by the Poiliar range’s presence, which often caused stormclouds to sit above the area until they dissipated. Thankfully, the sky was clear at present.


Down the slope, a small game run could be seen cutting into the tree line. Its meandering path lead to a brookside footpath, which in turn terminated at a small town with a Rausfar cantonment at its center.


Despite the military presence, however, the region was untamed. In this southernmost division of the Mausol territory, the majority of the population was still composed of diverse tribesmen, who largely existed outside Rausfar law.


Northeastern Mausol (Torrid Zone), Alandesil-Navolne Trail


Cerias Warren


Each night, when the torrid zone’s scorching temperatures dipped enough to be (just barely) tolerable, caravans made the jump from one encampment to the next. Most of these microsettlements had no more than two or three dozen permanent inhabitants, but Cerias Warren would soon be taking on many more. Joining the twenty-eight men, women, and children who maintained the wells, signal fires, and the settlement’s various structures were 60 Rausfar soldiers, sent to ensure law and order along this leg of the Alandesil-Navalne trail. With them came an equal number of large camels and a new drain upon the water supply.


Cerias, however, had been chosen expressly for its large aquifer and expansive cave system. This not only provided room for a cantonment and an reliable water supply, but the ability to store long-term rations and supplement them with the exotic aquatic creatures of the caves.


Unlike the various torrid zone settlements of northwestern Mausol, which were interconnected in many ways (and much more numerous, owing to the wetter and slightly less furnace-like climate of the coastal regions, as well as the shaded crags of the region), the villages of the trail were generally in direct contact with one settlement to the north and one settlement to the south. Even still, this route formed the most important overland route in the confederacy, a nation in which nearly all trade was accomplished over the ocean.


Havrai, Home Islands


Beonar-Peolt Court


Prince Gaurn had previously entertained barbarians, the nomadic men of the major continent’s interior, at his court. As far as novelties went, they were more reliably entertaining or exotic than any other sideshows, be they dwarves, giants, bearded women, or magical performers.


This one, however, was different. He lacked the open wonder most had at the fruits of civilization, and seemed to lack the warmongers's envy of them. And though many of the foreigners had tales to tell, this one was something special.


In broken Oestiom, he spoke of a kingdom of elves across the continent, of their formidable strength, and of his people’s harassment of their frontier guards. When he digressed, to describe the city-states of the interior, his people’s final defeat, or his journey from core of the continent to the elvish city-states of the coast in a slave’s chains, he was quickly refocused by the prince.


Guarn had already resolved to investigate this tale. His coffers were in fine state, due to a long peace (In large part a result of the Rausfar’s aura of strength). It was no question of money, but rather of men.


Well, here was one. “Would you be willing to guide my men to this land?”


“Aye. First, one thing.”


“What’s it that you’re after?”


“Bow. No bow for four years, I want a bow.” replied the nomad.


“Easily done.” Raising his voice for the benefit of his servant, the prince said “The man outside this chamber will lead you to lodgings inside the castle. You’ll be called on within the month”.


When the barbarian had left, the chief advisor of the king spoke from the edge of the room. With as much reproach as could be excused with a superior, he said, “You know the Confederation government will want to send its own delegation.”


“They’re a tool of the Rausfar. This is an opportunity for our people.”


“It’s outside the bounds of the law. You’re putting yourself at risk.”


“The worst they can do is remove our representative from the High Council. If you haven’t noticed, we’re not exerting too much power there as-is. In any case, the Rausfar wouldn’t be interested in any elvish nation. Even legally, we’re free to pursue an economic relationship with them, but at this stage this is just a little pastime.”


“Very well. I’ll begin gathering the tools of this little hobby… Soldiers, artisans, a handful of city officials, College mages?”


“And our new friend.”

 

[**Schmunky**]

South Border of Raufsar


North Face of the Poilar Mountain Range


Engelb stared out at the knotted mass of thick, winding trees, and drew his sword from its unembellished sheath. It was not a pretty thing, made by the local blacksmith in exchange for a whole fleet of his finest Blue Fin Ducks. It was slightly rusted along the edges, surprisingly so as he had little use for it in his current situation, but it did the job. It was sharp, very sharp.


Feeling the breath at the back of his thoat get raspy with excited gasps, by stroked down his wild, tangly beard, the bright ginger colour of Ortus feathers, and ran lightly down the game run, his padded feet encased in handmade leather shoes sinking into the ground silently. It was much smoother over this side, and he began to feel a wave of calm flow over him. He was going to do it.


Engelb wondered whether the plant would be easy enough to find. He wasn't even entirely sure what it looked like. As if fate had read his mind, he soon caught sight of a tall man in military clothing, and paced straight up to him, foolishly bravely, or as some may say, recklessly.


"Hi, I was wondering if you could help me, I'm looking for a plant... a healing plant, I think it's kinda rare... Do you know where I could find this?"


It suddenly hit him that the soldier might not speak Zhamiffiefian, or even if he could, had revealing himself as a foreigner been a bad first move?


The Queen's Palace, (Summertime Residence)


Zhamiffiefia, Realm One, Sector 1, County A. Outside Village boundaries.


A footmessenger ran into the Queen's courtroom, where she was playing a small game of indoor croquet, the outside version being too common for her.


"Excuse me?" She pouted, placing a delicately manicured finger to her heart shaped lips. "Did someone authorise this visit?"


"Er, no, it's me ma'am, your messenger?" He scratched his balding head, hoping for some form of recognision.


"Ah, right. Yes, of course. What is it that you want..." She faltered, searching her busy mind for a name, in vain. "...messenger."


"Well, my team has some good news, I'm sure you're glad to hear. We've heard from some villagers that the Laonaroans are very close to an astonishing breakthrough, in science that is. It could be a complete revolution in..."


"In what?" She demanded, impatiently.


"Well thats the slight issue. We don't know exactly what it is they are working on yet, 'cause its top secret and all that, but I assure you, its groundbreaking!"


Queen Fatalia raised one plucked eyebrow.


"Our international relationships with them is good, about 90% of our trading is with their country, and the other trading is just one-offs with other countries or personal, unauthorised, civilian to civilian trading between countries. Another slight, slight problem is how we found out. It was a reliable source, yes, yes, we are certain its true, but even word of mouth travels faster than we can currently. We need to improve our transport. Yet another of High Lord Kollche's boats to Murderer's Island sank with out a trace last night, and we are losing people interested in the work rapidly. No-one wants to be killed by a sea-monster, alone on a vast ocean with only a murderer to keep you company!"


"Messenger." Queen Fatalia interrupted, having given up on addressing him by his name, "Get back to the point."


"We have assembled a group of freelance scientists to work on our transport - by air, water and land. They begin work immediately. Is this to the Queen's approval?"


"Ah yes, yes it is." She smirked slyly. "And whilst they're at it, have them work on our armour too."

 

[Embluss]

This role play has been marked "inactive". Inactive role plays are defined as "role plays showing 0 activity within a 30 day period".


Please contact an @Rp Moderator if you feel this was a mistake or if you would like to have your role play reactivated.


Thank you for your participation within the RpNation!

 

[Embluss]

This role play has been marked "inactive". Inactive role plays are defined as "role plays showing 0 activity within a 30 day period".


Please contact an @Rp Moderator if you feel this was a mistake or if you would like to have your role play reactivated.


Thank you for your participation within the RpNation!