[!] If, for whatever reason; you have found yourself in need of the Exchequer, he cannot be found within the Spire, Albern's, or even the Undercity. He is nowhere to be found. His favored seat at the Full Cask remains empty, the Exchequer's office devoid of him. Even within the Noctis Estate, he cannot be found. He simply has disappeared. His disappearance began sometime on the same day in which the Militia and volunteers marched out to rescue an ambushed caravan from raiders in the Amafells.   OOC:Should you wish to reach Samiylo, feel free to DM me over Discord about what methods you may use to do so! This is not a "I am leaving the server" message (Though, my activity has definitely fallen off, sorry!)

Event desired: Samiylo in need of Shimmerfox Pelts Number of players: ONE, unless you would like more?Timezone(s): NA, Evening CST.Special requests (i.e. unique loot, enemies, etc. that may require additional lore team approval): I am in need of 2 Shimmerfox pelts. Notes (Any additional information for the event): Samiylo has primarily Dex-centered, with a +3 in Nature. He has access to Pathworker, Dubious Origins, Ready Disguise, and Softstep. Samiylo is willing to engage in quite a wide variety of legal, semi-legal, and even illegal activity to obtain them, and is the Exchequer of the Spire government. Whether you want Samiylo to engage in a hunt at the Shrine, partake in illegal negotiations with Undercity organizations, engage with a foreign power for an under-the-table trade, any scenario you come up with is more than fair game. However, Samiylo is largely incapable of comprehending/summoning/engaging with the magical/supernatural, so Fey and Fable dealings may be particularly difficult for him to accept/engage in/with and may end up with him swiftly disengaging.

CONTENT WARNING: BLOOD, IMPLIED DISMEMBERMENT, RITUALISTIC PUNISHMENT   It's frigid. So very frigid. Air so cold; so dry, that skin cracks and chafes. Sweat quickly turns to ice in the hair of these gathered men and women. A grand circle; over a hundred surrounding but two. All in that frigid air; whose ruthless winds rip through the crowd. No kaftan, no coat, no layer of clothing protects these people from such hostile conditions. Conditions which prevent all but the most enduring of those from surviving in. Conditions which prevent grand migrations.   For snow has settled in deep. That soft, white blanket which layers the overgrown hay-grass of this steppe that this encampment has settled into for the winter. That pure, innocently white cloud that's drifted low; settled onto the ground. One which; no matter how oft it finds itself stomped out- simply rebuilds itself each day and night. Even this grand gathering's presence will find itself erased in but a few short days as the harsh winter weather persists.   But, before that happens; this gathering must come to an end. Each man and woman there knew what was to happen. It is why they stand in silence, save only for the howling winds that rustle their clothes. All their eyes watching the pair in the center. None were excused from witnessing the day's theatre. Everyone gathered knew what this was. Everyone gathered knew why this was. A few had even found themselves center-stage, with proof. It was out of respect, that everyone maintained their silent vigil over what was happening.   Two stand in the center: the Usurper, and the Forgotten; one whose name has been erased from the minds of all who knew him. The Forgotten rests on his knees; gaze hanging low; to that soft, white pillow which fills his whole vision. Unable-- Unwilling, to look at those who surround him. The Usurper; in nothing more than loose shirt and pants, standing barefoot in the snow- shimmering-steel saber in his hand, his knuckles whitening around the grip. His free hand rests on the Forgotten's shoulder.   Before them, is a small, wooden box. Closed, half-buried in the snow; its contents known to all within the camp. This was not the first. It was not even new, for the Usurper merely takes after Taras; the old-guard.   Dutifully, the Forgotten opens his mouth. His tongue rolls out, hanging in the air. In an instant, the freezing winds turn saliva into ice; restricting his throat- causing him to cough. His tongue burning with pain as he holds it out before everyone.   A minute passes. A minute of burning, searing pain.   Nobody dared look away. Nobody dared to speak. This was- respect. Respect in it's own twisted, wicked way as they watched this spectacle. Not even a scream as that flash of a saber blinded the Forgotten.   His vision turns crimson. Where once the snow was pure white; it began to stain in a deep, dark red as a tide of blood spills from where his tongue once was. Now, it lay in the snow. Howling, frigid winds and the thick coat of snow soon turns it to ice. He does not scream, even though he could. Even if it was permitted; nobody had been able to force themselves to scream. Merely silent acceptance.   The Usurper's saber drains itself at his side; rammed into frozen ground- to feed the soil which they all take from. To stain the snow around the pair. One hand; on the Forgotten's shoulder, while the other reaches down- grabbing ahold of the appendage. Holding it high, for all to see.   And they all did.   Then; his foot kicks the small chest open. Inexplicable magic radiates out from within it.   Nearly a dozen more inside. At times, it held more. At times, it held less. This day? Eleven. Twelve, as he casts another's inside.   They are all Forgotten.   They will be remembered when their trial has come to an end.   Should they survive it.   Jozef Brandt (1841-1915), Cossack watchman, 1881, painting, Wikimedia   The Hundred Horses   For as ruthless as this band of brigands oft was; whose reputation struck fear into the hearts of many- it was not a disorganized mass. Strict order, born from days of mercenary work which had hardened the old guard into a formidable force; had never quite faded away, even as their culture and targets changed. Punishment was routine and expected. Those who fell out of line- those who failed to perform; they would all find themselves corrected. Those whose crimes were so unforgiveable to the Hundred; whether it be treason, or a refusal to do their part in maintaining their organization, would be branded.   Executions were far and few between. Manpower was always in short supply, even if they were unafraid to recruit from small-time pickpockets, to hardened murderers; few truly wanted to risk their lives with such a group. Yet, it never found itself lacking /too/ much.   This was, perhaps; due in part to their most brutal ritual. In which the guilty finds themselves stripped of their speech in the presence of every member. They would no longer have a name; serving only as the Forgotten. Such a branding rendered them unable to escape. For any who escaped- would be identifiable to all those who chase after the Hundred Horses, and whose speech would not be able to be easily restored. Few among them could read well, and fewer among them could write. A Forgotten escapee was all but useless even to the most benevolent of captors without access to magic which read another's mind, for it would take months to teach another how to read and write, and by that point; whatever information they held about the Hundred would long-since have been deemed outdated and worthless.   Thus, the Forgotten are forced to serve, for the Hundred must now care for them, and once they have earned their graces back; their tongue is reattached, and they may be Remembered. They are given a new name; for their old one will have been forgotten, and they are once more fully-trusted members of the Hundred Horses.   Alexey Kivshenko (1851-1895), Cossack horseman observing a military camp, unknown date, painting, Sothebys

Attention Citizenry, Permanent Residents, and Travelers of the Spire! Voting for the official name of the bridge at Albern's Crossing has concluded! In a swift turnout, with thirty-four votes in favor, and twenty-one votes against, and the brand new name for the soon-to-be-rebuilt bridge has officially been chosen to be... Dawncrest Bridge Henceforth, our new and most glorious Dawncrest Bridge will soon be fully rebuilt and shall reconnect us to the rest of the continent. Many thanks!   Office of the Exchequer OOC NOTE: Hilariously quick voter turnaround. I had known the results before I even went to sleep, but in order to avoid double-posting on the notice board (and because I couldn't lock in and write up another post to save my life) announcement was done today. Big thank you to everyone who took part!

Attention Citizenry, Permanent Residents, and Travelers of the Spire! The fundraiser for the reconstruction of the bridge at Albern's Crossing has concluded! A total sum of FIVE-THOUSAND-AND-NINE-HUNDRED (5900) crowns have been successfully raised to support such a momentous effort. With the bridge's reconstruction underway, and with all submissions collected; the two proposed names for our newest bridge are... Dawncrest Bridge Badger Bridge Voting on the names will commence summarily. As a reminder, ONE HUNDRED (100) crowns has earns you ONE vote. TWO HUNDRED (200) crowns earns you TWO votes. THREE HUNDRED (300) crowns earns you THREE votes. Those who have submitted names by donating FIVE HUNDRED (500) or more likewise have earned THREE votes! VOTE NOW!   For those who did not have the chance to donate; do not worry! In order to make better use of our resources, we have decided to use a portion of the fund raised crowns in order to pay all Spirefolk who take part in the upcoming reconstruction effort! A total of ONE THOUSAND (1000) crowns have been set aside in order to be equally paid out to all those who lend their hand! DO YOUR PART!   Office of the Exchequer   OOC NOTE: First of all, sorry about the lengthy delays! I am aware this was promised nearly two weeks ago; however, unfortunately, work, obligations, and general schedule sloppiness has led to me having to put this off until now. The holidays can be a rough time of year for me, and I'm sure; many others here. So, sorry! On the topic of voting, in order to maintain privacy, I will be privately reaching out directly to all those who donated in order to gather their votes via Discord. Unfortunately, I can't really come up with a better solution than that. I apologize. Voting will run for a week, and will end on Saturday, January 3rd, 1PM EST, or until all votes have been collected. If everyone votes before then, I will announce the results earlier. For the actual reconstruction event, it will begin on Saturday, January 3rd, 8PM EST. This timeframe, I hope, will give both EU and NA players a chance to take part. On the topic of finances here! Our plan for this was to keep 25% of the donated crowns in order to act as funds for paying any participants in the event. The remaining 75% will be /eco'd out of existance. I am aware that 25% of 5900 is not actually 1000, that is because we have decided that we would subtract the original requirement of 2000 crowns from 5900, leaving us with 3900. 25% of that then becomes 975, which we simply rounded up to be a simple, relatively easy-to-divide number for however many participants are in the event. So, 4900 is being /eco'd out of the server ecosystem. Please see the related Discord thread for screenshot proof and personalized timestamps!