Went with no. Having recently played on a server with similar level range... it's just not fun if you ain't a spellcaster.

Can confirm that this group is worth your time.

MCR huh. That's a good way to convince people not to join!

Dread Inquisitor Renarde

I am open to alternate stories if truth be told, as I'm not convinced the people of Tilverton will be able to understand the complex nature of the titular hero of the play in question. It is a very nuanced character. To that end, I would love to hear your own stories and ponder with you about whether they are able to be adapted to stage. I am also very happy to see SOMEONE here has inclination towards the art.

~ Framtalious Mayus Karador

Arabel Observer for Gnomes here with coverage of the Fifth Council meeting. With a particular emphasis on the sink hole that is Tilverton, the Council was formed by three, very powerful men; Lord Foril Bhaliir, Evander Dauntinghorn, and Mr. Christoph Ampharen. Our correspondent Framtalious Mayus Karador with the story -

My initial impressions of this Council were mixed. It was, for a time, very much for the people; an open discussion as to the problematic settlement of Tilverton and it's surrounds. However, t'was not long before the main players arrived and it became clear, at least to this Gnome, that things were going to take a turn for the worse. The first to arrive was Lord Foril Bhaliir...

Dressed to impress, the Lord Bhaliir appears something of a contradiction. Eager to please with a curt nod and smile, the Lord mingles with the expertise as befit a man trained in the manner of the silver spoon. Yet, there is connection there with the common folk, a certain likeness to your average Sanders or Joe Farmer. I can't quite put my finger on it. Perhaps his eagerness to speak with the commoner using his well-mannered and articulate banter. Nonetheless, Lord Bhaliir appears to be someone whom would adjust his chair to be slightly higher than yours before engaging you in conversation.

Next to him sat a short, quiet man who covertly opted to sit on the right side of Lord Bhaliir for reasons that should be obvious to our readers. This priest, this Christoph Ampharen of Gond seems to have as much wit and charisma as his automatons. In the realm of politics, in this game of leaders and followers, there is a certain tact which is required when dealing with people - especially in matters of hearth and home. But, as we'll get to later, this man has the unique ability to have none of that.

Sitting on Lord Bhaliir's left was quite possibly the most boring individual known to Arabel, 'Minister of Defense' Evander Dauntinghorn. As straight as his haircut and just as inspiring, Mr. Dauntinghorn was, for the majority of this Council meeting, making an concerted effort to be as cursory as possible, speaking only to counter the rantings of Mr. Ampharen. You can't fault him for it though, dear readers, the man was clearly raised in a gilded cage of stilted emotion and expensive tastes, only able to take flight when told.

The meeting itself was quite formulaic to be quite honest; the problem of Tilverton was acknowledged, solutions were presented, and in the end the entire Council seemed to all agree that discussing Tilverton's fate was ultimately pointless as it rested in the hands of the Crown. 'Pending approval from the King' became the signature catchphrase of every proposal - save for Mr. Ampharen's, whom felt it eager to continue mentioning the possibility of a Divine March.

Readers are encouraged to think back on the chaos that was the Banite 'Divine March', the undead and bloodstones which had littered the streets. It seemed that this had also occurred to Mr. Dauntinghorn, the most boring man of Arabel, whom defended the Akadian sovereignty over the land against Ampharen's attempt to raise his seat a little higher. Dauntinghorn flaunted his bureaucratic weight about like a pregnant mule, unwilling to compromise with the priest as to the rule of law.

It should be noted that a Mr. Damion Latok spoke up in opposition to this Divine March. A gruff, unshaven man of the forests, Mr. Latok strode forth like a lamb to slaughter, willingly stepping into this abattoir of silver spoons and raised seats to speak for the freedom of Tilverton's people. It was flowery, it was verbose, it was disastrous. But it is the thought that counts.

Truth be told, the fate of Tilverton remains as vague as when the Council had started. Mr. Ampharen has two nights before he must present his decision on whether or not he will order a Divine March. It will be interesting then to see how the people of Tilverton react to their fate. And if mindless automatons were to some how slaughter the people? Would the Crown then intervene? Lord Bhaliir was quick to say yes, but the ramifications of such is just as vague and as difficult as searching for Ampharen's skill with matters of state.

[The only thing that could be construed as a reply are flyers advertising a preview of 'Framtalious and the Miracle of Eveningstar' at Tilverton, followed by a full premiere at the King's Theatre in Arabel within the near future. These ornate works of advertising show three figures standing side-by-side; in the middle is a handsome Gnome with an extremely well maintained moustache lifting a blade towards the sky, a halo around his head - To his left is a rather stoic looking warforged with flaming red eyes and on his right is a generously busty woman in Lathanderite armour, holding her hands in reverent prayer. At the foot of these figures is the sleeping Lord Winter.]

I don't think he's talking about holding the DMs to a different standard, in fact, it's quite the opposite of that.

The real villain in all this is Leonard Early Hickman. Look at how his name is positioned over his character, how does this not trigger anyone else?!

It is natural for a representative of a House to make an effort to bolster their reputation within the House by bloating their own exploits. I do not fault you for it. But to accuse me of such vagary as to lie whilst you pen down ones of your own, well, what did the Pot call the Kettle again, my dear? I recall the event as if it were yesterday. The fey dust all around me, its reaction to my presence, the importance of the Framtalious Tree bearing down on the scene as the sheer light of Lathander bathed me in all it's glory. These things are difficult to forget.

If you are intent on resorting to violence to silence this play, then it is true that I cannot stop you, but know that such an act brings your boot now firmly onto the neck of the people of Eveningstar, on each and every Framtalious out there, with hope in their hearts and goodness in their spirit...

I bring entertainment and song; fruits of creativity to convey the miracle that was that day. Thus far, you've given us all threats and a reasonably sketched parody. I'll indulge.

[A drawing accompanies this reply; There is a glowing Lord Winter who lies on the banks of the Starwater river beneath a large tree. Beside her, a Gnome in dashing robes and a fantastically ornate hat. He is looking towards the audience, his left hand in a gesture with thumb and two fingers up, two fingers down and a halo around his head. At the foot of the glowing Lord are two figures, the first, a generously busty woman dressed in armour bearing the Lathanderite symbol with tears in her eyes who reaches out towards the Gnome and another, a Warforged with red, glowing eyes who is nursing a damaged arm as he looks on in awe...]

Mr. Latok,

It warms my heart to see that Arabel and it's surrounds are not yet completely bereft of enterprising individuals who can recognise the positive power of a good play. I will be happy to meet with you at this Tilverton and speak with you as to this generous patronage.

~ Framtalious Mayus Karador