ronin_champloo

You chose to learn this magic, you’ve put the RP into it. – Deal with the Redlines and consequences. What’s more important. – Your character’s life or the magic? I find that Seers would have other measures rather than themselves fighting, to protect themselves in combat. – Perhaps guards, etc. It’ll make for good RP. From Zarsies’ Post: Physically this manifests as an inability to be fit or in good health, instead forcing seers to at most live with the body of a sedentary lifestyle with little more strength and endurance such a body could afford them. Mentally this manifests through a fear or anxiety or a delusion which is repeated per slot, up to 3 times. There’s no “may choose to not pick”. – They have to have a Social Anxiety There’s other ways to obscure your eyes rather than using the blindfold. That’s a Redline for you. Also, the change isn’t about casting it overall. – It’s about casting it publicly.

If it comes to combat, go ahead. – Your character does what you need to do to survive. However, I find that Seers shouldn’t be in the middle of combat; The limitations of their bodies, alongside the paranoia and mental effects wouldn’t allow them to be the center of attention. Their bodies are brittle, faded and weakened due to the advent of their magics. Minds are torn apart, living in a secluded fear of what remains. – They wouldn’t willingly go to fights, if they know that they’d be in jeopardy. From Zarsies’ Post: ”Specific phobias (The acute fear, panic, or terror of a certain situation, activity, animal, or object which imagines or irrationally exaggerates danger. These individuals are keenly aware of their phobia but feel completely powerless to control it. There are too many possible phobias to list so please research your own. Phobias commonly induce panic attacks.) Yup, act blind. – The thought of being able to see without eyes or with a blindfold creates a spotlight on your character, it doesn’t make sense for Seers to enjoy that spotlight. They’re meant to be of the occult, in paranoia. It makes sense for them to be secretive about this. From Zarsies’ Post: ”Social anxiety (The fear of everyday activities in social settings, accompanied by being extremely self-conscious and feeling judged regardless of their self awareness. This can be any general social act or specific ones such as eating in public, meeting strangers, or attending social events. A form of social anxiety is performance anxiety where the individual is extremely anxious of giving speeches or performances.)” The side effect of Seer magic is that it drains a character’s mental health. – The fear and paranoia that comes along with it, this gives it a reason for Seers to act like this; This gift of theirs is to be kept secret, lest the imagined fears that they adorn will come to fruition. Magics are supposed to be counter-able. For Seers, I find that these spells are meant to be a last-resort. – Rather than an opener. There are other ways to CRP in combat rather than relying on a magic. Fully agree with that, people will take advantage of your character if they can’t fight. – However, Seer magic had these redlines for a reason. From Zarsies’ Post: ”Physical symptoms include muscle tension, headaches, insomnia, a fast heartbeat, shortness of breath, trembling, sweating, and nausea.” These are here for a reason. They’re there since the Author didn’t intend for Seers to participate in combat, unless it’s duels. I find that Seers would have other measures rather than themselves fighting, to protect themselves in combat. – That alongside the RP that arises from this would be interesting. I’d just say let RP be RP; Whatever happens, happens. If your character is killed or PK’d, let it happen with grace. I’ve talked to a few Seers about this, some of the Grandfathered Seers. – The spells are really specific at times because it’s meant to be like that. Magic shouldn’t be the first move in a CRP, if you do end up fighting; Magic shouldn’t be the solution to everything in a fight. The cultural part is something I heavily disagree with, you chose to become a Seer. – You’re to follow the guidelines present and written by the Lore Holder.

This is an amazing amendment that I think may help out the stance on Seer RP. – The old Lore had a few holes in it that allowed people to RP it how they wanted. That isn’t how it works; If you’re going to learn something like this, there are tenants and themes that must be followed to ensure that it follows the guidelines of the MA. It’s meant to occult-like, a monkey’s paw. It’s meant to grant our characters sight, but at what cost? – They see everything, and that can break a person. Some things aren’t meant to be seen, from that they grow paranoid and reclusive. The magic isn’t meant to be used in public, in the Sutica square or for random moments. – It’s something that’s only used in dire situations or in privacy. This grants those who’ve been actually enjoying Seer RP, some joy. – When a person or group starts RPing it, the way that they want to while ignoring alot of the original intent and purpose of the magic, it reflects badly on everyone else. What use is a magic based in secrecy, when everyone in Sutica knows about it? I honestly believe that Seers can be extremely interesting, if it weren’t for the Day 1 Self-Taught situation. – Where many had gorged out their own eye-balls in the hopes of getting the magic, and then getting golem eyes when they were told ‘No’. Thanks, Zarsies, for this. – Hopefully, this can change the state of Seers right now. EDIT: I wrote this when I woke up, so forgive my rambles. TLDR; Thanks Zarsies, this is gonna help Seer RP alot.

A SNOWED CURE Issued on the 14th of The Grand Harvest, 1763 (OOC: Âmul, the Olog that bore the skulls of others.) The lands of Krug were filled with strife, a deafening silence prevailing within the War-Nation. An individual bearing azure fabrics would later tread, cautious steps following his wake. The ‘Fenn journeyed merely for himself, to desire what had been before; To show that he wasn’t ash, that even in his weakened form. - He was still Varan Atmorice. The ‘Fenn was to do battle with an Olog, the monstrosity that had claimed the lives of many of his ilk. The beast donned armor of all previous attempts; Bones clung onto his being, a silent tale spoken of what had been before. A decrepit warhammer grasped onto his left. The 10” tall muscle bound beast roared a beastial taunt. Charcoal skin, crimson eyes peering at Varan as if he was prey. The Olog threw the gauntlet, signaled the call and the ‘Fenn followed. They were watched by many of the Uruk, bored and wanting of violence. - To see this man ripped to shreds, to turn onto yet another piece of attire. The almost sickly man held more mystery than accounted for. The battle commenced and the two began to dance, weaving tales not of elegance but a cold brutality. None cared for the other side, merely to emerge victorious and bloodied. Every heavy strike brought forth from the beast was met with a dance, the ‘Fenn’s boots almost gliding upon the sand. Varan moved forth, a wispal energy about his hands while the Olog thought to launch his warhammer at the ‘Fenn. A relentless charging and fight about his miasma. The strike hit, his chest broken; The ribs crying out in pain, in pure ardent screeching. The Elf was broken, his hands feeble and shaking as the presence would charge onto him. The halberd that Varan wielded soon came arisen, the blade sinking deep onto the head of the Olog. The skull cracking somewhat in all regards, the beast falling aside. Panic and fear soon creeped onto his form, his hand then arisen and grasping the monster’s skull. The area about them distorting onto a beautiful reverie. The halberd forgone, a shortsword soon grasped. The Olog laid motionless upon the desolate sands, blood seeping from his skull. “Wub da zkah..” A voice would mutter out. Slient strides would follow Varan as he quickly moved onto the skull of the Olog, the blade glinting within the barren sunlight. An attempt made to cut open the leathery skin, to reveal the skull of the beast. A blood-curling roar was soon released; A deafening screech about them. “GLOooooOOooOOOoOOB” (OOC: Varan fighting the accursed beast.) In this blind bloodlust did the Olog flail about, his attack lacking rhythm and form but merely a fear of what was laid before him. A wild act that spoke of his brutality, his loathsome love for hate. In this eyeless contempt for violence did Varan act. - The blade seeking the calf of the Beast, more pain granted to this spawn of bloodlust. From what felt like seconds, the Olog’s sight was returned to him. His muscle-bound grasp held over the feeble ‘Fenn, lifting him up with nothing but scorn. Adrenaline coursed through Varan’s veins. Teeth clenched, saliva drooling out in this pain. The weapon wielded and soon swung during this brutal exchange. The Olog fell limp. The lifeless carcass soon falling onto his knees. Memories of old then pulsing within the fading body of the beast. He’d gurgle, the Olog trembling with nothing but pain. A cold chill soon settling onto his body. “GRuuuUUuuuUuuUB.” Varan gasped for air, his form crushed and falling onto the floor with despair. His ribs broken, internal bleeding within him. He crawled for it was all that he could do, the events around him were nothing but noise to the ‘Fenn. The words would screech out, the maw opened in avarice. The Olog fell upon the floor, his battered and broken body set onto the heartless sands. “GRuUUuuuuUUuB.” The battle was won, the Uruk were speechless. - Honour upheld, the Uruk escorted the injured Elf to safety. The bones of the dead retrieved, the skull beheaded from the Olog. - A burial to be granted, a silent requiem spoken for those felled by the beast. And so, he left; adrenaline still rushing through his veins.

+1 Looks good- Had a few talks about the Lore, and many more beforehand in relation to Izukthii. I like it!

Ehmet’s steeled gaze would watch upon the departing halfling, a muttering beset upon his lips; Hands arisen to adjust the wooden circlet that adorned his crown. His features, once a self-righteous scowl, then forming onto a simple sneer. ”And so. – She left; her soul still remaining upon this Silver Bastion.”

Ehmet salutes this brave gamer.

EXECUTION OF KUDRA AND GAR'RAKAT Issued on the 8th of The Grand Harvest, 1763 Our terms not followed, a mark of your cowardice. Numerous times will you seek to plague and infest our borders with your barbarism and false hearkening of honor. You threaten our people, and many others and dare attempt to kill them in your baseless bloodlust. – Only to be turned asunder, your form adrift onto bare embers. We gave you the offer to fight for their freedom, with out-numbered terms in Krugmar’s favor. You declined like the filth you are. Where is your honor now? He is to be made as a symbol of your feeble attempts, what will befall of your kind. A totem of your failures and the many more. NARVAK OZ URGUAN

[!] Depicted in this picture are two Uruk by the name of Gar’rakat and Kudra, placed upon the ground. Missives are sent to Krugmar. One of the Elvenesse, our own have been captured by the Honorable Uruk of Krugmar! Not alike to your own, we have compassion. Mercy. To this we ask of you, do you really protect your own? – Does honor exist in your kind? We are to meet in Aegrothond, with 5000 Minas and our captured friend. You have 30 minutes, lest your kin is to end up as fodder. – A simple mark of what is to befall your kind in these coming days.

learning seer magic to look under your clothes – hoes mad hoes mad hoes mad hoes mad hoes mad hoes mad hoes mad

Application Name: Lien'orrarirvallei Narnirvallei'ihnsil Race: High Elf Age: 152 Place of Residence: Aegrothond Scholarly Background (N/A if none): N/A

I fk with everything, especially the format – Love it.

sending an email to gizzygazza rn, it’s time for part two

”This melody had come to a rest, decades of howling against the darkened mural of above. – The stars brush upon your tale, friend.” A lone ‘Aheral would mutter, his digits ever-found upon a harp. The wooden surface containing many carvings upon it, a story hidden to him and him only. He’d pluck at the strings, fingers gracing the strings. A soft humming upon his lips. ”Shine on, Telos Fester. – I will keep your memory true.”

Lien would be sitting within Aegrothond. His foot then brushing upon the stone and grass somewhat, a seat taken soon after. – Legs crossed, and closed gaze set over the horizon. A remorseful, forlorn sight upon his features. His hands set upon a Harp, draconic inscriptions upon it. The carvings speaking of an old tale, an old memory contained within. Lien’s fingers would place themselves upon it. His scarred and weathered hands, scorched and burnt with thunder and lightning gracing the strings. Slowly, gently and without words. – He’d then pluck the strings, a soft and weathered song played soon after. A dirge of what had been lost, a silent howling upon those who had faded away. ”Sleep onto a blissful goodnight, Friend. – Seek this long goodbye, never turning back.” The song would end.

I thought this was LOTC, not pornhub

A certain ‘Aheral would slam upon the Arcade Machine in frustation.

”The past is not always something that one can easily escape. Their claws upon your body, bringing you onto an unrighteous end.” A solemn ‘Aheral would mutter. Fingers grasping harshly upon chains that bound him as his grey orbs scan upon the note. His form, sat upon the privacy of his own home, would rest. – Weary and resolute in his posture. Slowly, he would rise and move towards the exit. His hand grasping a clothed pole-arm, digits around the wrappings before he would set off. ”You die remembered, Caestella. – Know that your passing is not in vain. For now, I wish you have found peace.”

“did the man really just dine and dash?” Mutters an amused ‘Ame.

give me rep

”May want to fix that.” A chuckling ‘Aheral would mutter. – His hands upon the bloodied missive, peering eyes set upon their floating bodies. ”All that time of walking for a minute of fighting, hm?”

A brow aloft, shaky digits grasping at the missive. – Fingers placed upon the edges, darting eyes then peering upon it. His form barely intact, dusty clothes and hoarse coughs then escaping his lips. ”The old. – Refined with the new, many spoken words of purity and superiority. No actions taken.“ A shaky breath, sharp exhales then released. – Fidgeting form then aching, hand placed on the side of their neck as he would scratch. Bags under his eyes, a dry throat and marks beginning to appear upon his neck. Remnants of wool and cloth scattered around him, a locked entry and no escape. “The candle grows smaller, time unable to grasp. Change called for, and they listen. – I am glad.” His fingers, ever moving, digging onto his skin. – Torn skin upon his reddening skin. ”Adeline. – I am glad.”

A nameless, yet dead, bandit dreams of sneezing.

MCName: RuneOfBinding__ RPName: Spearfish Character Race: ‘Aheral Nation: Talus Grove

Met you from the start, and up to now. – Always been chill and ****. Muffins, never change. Take a seat, and a break. – You deserve it. (Perry the Platypus, Welcome to my new invention. – The Cock and Ball Torturniator.)