by Max Barry

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Congrats!

Tempest Bluffs wrote:I'm an older sibling for 2 weeks now. I forgot to mention this here because I've been busy

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!

Northern sha gunos

hello i am new country plz dont invade me

Any other Elven nations out there?

unofficial question of the day, what dino do you think, would taste the best?

The Lost Domain wrote:unofficial question of the day, what dino do you think, would taste the best?

The Brontosaurs burgers on the Flintstones look good

T-Rex because ancestors of chickens

The Lost Domain wrote:unofficial question of the day, what dino do you think, would taste the best?

Boiled panoplosaurus(they look like a scarier version of turtle for me :])

Emhain wrote:Any other Elven nations out there?

No idea about Elves but we are pretty close, we are Dunedain

And the weekly poll has concluded! GIFs beat Emoji's 17-2!!!!

Northern sha gunos wrote:hello i am new country plz dont invade me

Hello new friend!

Sixteen years ago this day, in the region of England, the grand RP event that largely shaped the modern form of my main nation, Rhanukhan, and birthed Lehpuhrta itself finally reached its triumphant conclusion. Anybody interested in reading an abridged chronicle of The Great Banana Rush and the global war that followed can find it here -

Here follows a detailed day-by-day summary of the roleplay event from which the flying island of Lehpuhrta emerged, back in 2008 - including directly quoted material, where appropriate.

The Great Banana Rush
A most unusual object falling from space sets in motion a mad scramble between the varied nations on the world of Sargvilosahnah for power, territory, and technological advantage.

Part 1 - "Impact" (November 29th 2007 - January 19th 2008)

Part 2 - "Outbreak" (January 20th 2008 - February 4th 2008)

Part 3 - "Turmoil" (February 7th 2008 - March 4th 2008)

Part 4 - "Revelation" (March 5th 2008 - April 13th 2008)


Credits:
The Flying Island of Lehpuhrta is spun-off from my main nation, The Unified Provinces of Rhanukhan, but it would never have existed without the work of the many other excellent players in the region of England who helped create and continue a superb roleplay scenario. They're all referenced by their Rhanukhani exonyms in this chronicle, but you'll find them appropriately credited below...

Ahlituania - Leetuania
Ahzekhteesi - Asxtc
Bazqophan - West-side
Brindjivashteli - Hirota
Gamiatianekan Idiokrahtia - United idiocracy
Glerica - Glerica
Mahdkhesthan - Mad chester
Mahmalohan - Atraxes
Mianertograditojikayhan - Disposablepuppetland
The Empire of Nerrekhvasukhan - Britains empire
The Niahvogalese Federation - Nivogal
Nohvrakishnaplermta - New drakensberg range
Pemerktichotkhi - P-17
Rutzatilhan - Rutzatil
Samravheria - Southern irish
Samravhkhent - Southern kent
Veletarna - Ithania
Vizkhaya - Zapatista
Xenikhan - Xenigon
Yakhaltasardalezna - Youngtung
Yerkinisjardul - Irongaard
Yihan - Self-emptying dog
Zlioristvamertivi - Mighty tim
Read factbook

I'm playing as Rhanukhan, Lehpuhrta (once it appears), and - in my role as GM - the top command levels of the Symyano Fleet (plus, of course, any lower level Symyano activity within my own countries), if you're wondering. 'twas a fine few months. :)

And the previous poll has concluded and burgers beat hotdogs 17-4! Y'all really like the burgers!

I also hope everyone is having a great Friday and here's to a great weekend!

I am back from slumber

*Long seeming abandoned, the bulletin board has not overgrown this time, instead it stands there, its pages fluttering in the gentle breezes that sweep the grasslands of Caer Sidi. From somewhere over the horizon a gentle baaing can be heard, and then another, and another. Rising into a swelling chorus of baaing almost seeming intent on shaking the sky down. As the herd comes over the horizon and floods the plains, returning to their grazing grounds as they begin to monch the delicious grasses.

A small lamb breaks away from its mother and approaches the bulletin board, staring up at it for a moment before bleating, as though asking what the board is waiting for.

The bulletin board shakes, trembles, and sheds the papers stuck to it like leaves falling in autumn. The drift to the ground and are promptly devoured by passing sheeps.

A new paper appears in their place, which reads:*

"unOFFFICAL QUESTION OF THE WHENEVER: The Queen is throwing a funeral for herself. She is not dead, and is in fact in absolutely perfect health. The same way she has been since she fist took the throne 300 years ago. She believes that by seeing who attends her funeral and how distraught they are, will reveal who her truly loyal friends, retainers, and servants are.

How will you show your grief at the Queen's Funeral? What will you arrive wearing and how will you behave so that the queen knows that you are her most loyal... friend?

*Beneath the page, another piece of paper appears:*

HAVE YOU ENDORSED YOUR WORLD ASSEMBLY DELEGATE YET? IF NOT WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

Sheepy Hollow wrote:*Long seeming abandoned, the bulletin board has not overgrown this time, instead it stands there, its pages fluttering in the gentle breezes that sweep the grasslands of Caer Sidi. From somewhere over the horizon a gentle baaing can be heard, and then another, and another. Rising into a swelling chorus of baaing almost seeming intent on shaking the sky down. As the herd comes over the horizon and floods the plains, returning to their grazing grounds as they begin to monch the delicious grasses.

A small lamb breaks away from its mother and approaches the bulletin board, staring up at it for a moment before bleating, as though asking what the board is waiting for.

The bulletin board shakes, trembles, and sheds the papers stuck to it like leaves falling in autumn. The drift to the ground and are promptly devoured by passing sheeps.

A new paper appears in their place, which reads:*

"unOFFFICAL QUESTION OF THE WHENEVER: The Queen is throwing a funeral for herself. She is not dead, and is in fact in absolutely perfect health. The same way she has been since she fist took the throne 300 years ago. She believes that by seeing who attends her funeral and how distraught they are, will reveal who her truly loyal friends, retainers, and servants are.

How will you show your grief at the Queen's Funeral? What will you arrive wearing and how will you behave so that the queen knows that you are her most loyal... friend?

*Beneath the page, another piece of paper appears:*

HAVE YOU ENDORSED YOUR WORLD ASSEMBLY DELEGATE YET? IF NOT WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

*lies in wait, totally not with one eye open*

Sheepy Hollow wrote:*Long seeming abandoned, the bulletin board has not overgrown this time, instead it stands there, its pages fluttering in the gentle breezes that sweep the grasslands of Caer Sidi. From somewhere over the horizon a gentle baaing can be heard, and then another, and another. Rising into a swelling chorus of baaing almost seeming intent on shaking the sky down. As the herd comes over the horizon and floods the plains, returning to their grazing grounds as they begin to monch the delicious grasses.

A small lamb breaks away from its mother and approaches the bulletin board, staring up at it for a moment before bleating, as though asking what the board is waiting for.

The bulletin board shakes, trembles, and sheds the papers stuck to it like leaves falling in autumn. The drift to the ground and are promptly devoured by passing sheeps.

A new paper appears in their place, which reads:*

"unOFFFICAL QUESTION OF THE WHENEVER: The Queen is throwing a funeral for herself. She is not dead, and is in fact in absolutely perfect health. The same way she has been since she fist took the throne 300 years ago. She believes that by seeing who attends her funeral and how distraught they are, will reveal who her truly loyal friends, retainers, and servants are.

How will you show your grief at the Queen's Funeral? What will you arrive wearing and how will you behave so that the queen knows that you are her most loyal... friend?

*Beneath the page, another piece of paper appears:*

HAVE YOU ENDORSED YOUR WORLD ASSEMBLY DELEGATE YET? IF NOT WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

As befits my position I will be arriving dishevelled, unwashed with red eyes and clearly sleep deprived, and at appropriate intervals throughout the event I shall scream incoherently and tear articles of my clothing until I am removed

Sheepy Hollow wrote:*Long seeming abandoned, the bulletin board has not overgrown this time, instead it stands there, its pages fluttering in the gentle breezes that sweep the grasslands of Caer Sidi. From somewhere over the horizon a gentle baaing can be heard, and then another, and another. Rising into a swelling chorus of baaing almost seeming intent on shaking the sky down. As the herd comes over the horizon and floods the plains, returning to their grazing grounds as they begin to monch the delicious grasses.

A small lamb breaks away from its mother and approaches the bulletin board, staring up at it for a moment before bleating, as though asking what the board is waiting for.

The bulletin board shakes, trembles, and sheds the papers stuck to it like leaves falling in autumn. The drift to the ground and are promptly devoured by passing sheeps.

A new paper appears in their place, which reads:*

"unOFFFICAL QUESTION OF THE WHENEVER: The Queen is throwing a funeral for herself. She is not dead, and is in fact in absolutely perfect health. The same way she has been since she fist took the throne 300 years ago. She believes that by seeing who attends her funeral and how distraught they are, will reveal who her truly loyal friends, retainers, and servants are.

How will you show your grief at the Queen's Funeral? What will you arrive wearing and how will you behave so that the queen knows that you are her most loyal... friend?

*Beneath the page, another piece of paper appears:*

HAVE YOU ENDORSED YOUR WORLD ASSEMBLY DELEGATE YET? IF NOT WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

While we have never met this queen owing to our youth on the stage of the world, we shall send what flowers we have on hand in this tundra and our kindest regards. We hope the funeral goes well even if it is just a ploy.

Away from the crowd, two figures stand inconspicuously in a shadowy corner. One is a noble, dight in fine - though suitably sombre - attire and jewellery. The other a quiet man in a long, dark cloak, his face lost within the voluminous hood. The noble is discreetly pressing a purse of monies into the pale hands of his companion. This other man appears briefly confused, as he has not yet had time to carry out the appointed task, but takes the money anyway and slips silently away.

The representative from Rhanukhan, attired in garments all of one colour - as the funerary customs of her homeland dictate - observes this transaction and, while the noble makes a great show of his grief among his peers, she has a quiet word with one of the guards in attendance. A moment later the noble is politely, but firmly ushered out of the hall. The people he thought to be his friends are already making moves to dissociate themselves from him.

Brother Cadphael attends the funeral with 2 of his young disciples, all clad in their finest black Monk attires, to offer prayers for the unDead queen.

*sounds of a soda being drunk is heard*
Glad everyone's still okay. Especially the Wooloos... mostly the wooloos

Tempest Bluffs wrote:*sounds of a soda being drunk is heard*
Glad everyone's still okay. Especially the Wooloos... mostly the wooloos

*baas and trots over for pets*

we arise from the depths! worry not, for the chaosbringer has returned ;3

Obviously it's pronounced caramel

Sheepy Hollow wrote:*baas and trots over for pets*

*gives them a head pat* hehehe. Wooloo.

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