simatra

we need this on the server soooo bad

Alchemy submissions should fill a new niche, and also shouldn't imitate pre-existing magics, nor should they be too close to other feats/lore. I don't think this would really be a good addition when considering what we already have (necromancy and tawkin primarily, as has been mentioned in this thread already).

guys I talked shit about this but pallo changed my mind, good idea

I was here for PEAK! And the progression system is really good, I agreed with everything in the statement about it, definitely a big plus

"That mischievous gentleman has done it again!" declares the Darkstalker, "Such an evil cause, trying to get innocent people to stand up against tyrants. What devilish plan will he come up with next?"

~~~ An Empty Flock ~~~ Endyrn, who had not returned to going by vailu at the time, had been seeking to find The Shepherd. Though his body was gone, he was not forgotten, and his soul still clung to the world of men. It was only after many attempts, catching distant mourning howls in the wind and glimpses of red in the distance, that he managed to track down what remained of the man who was once known as The Pale Prince of their cult. This was a man he had great respect for, more than as just a role model, but an idol. Finding him had nothing to do with the cult, which had crumbled into irrelevance already, but rather this was a mission for his sake, to see what places and artifacts remained of the man. He didn’t know that his spirit still wandered the lands, at first, but discovered the reddish figure throughout the course of this mission. Endyrn was still young at the time, less than half a century old, when he discovered the Poltergeist. The sight was breathtaking, not for glory at seeing the man that those who he looked up to all kneeled for, but out of horror. The man, once elegant, had a crevice in his translucent neck which could only be called grotesque in the display of gore at how the man died, now preserved in the spirit. It was perhaps the hesitance in shock at the sight that spoiled this first encounter. He approached, and dropped to his hands and knees. He cried out to Evindal, to introduce himself to the man who he had been raised and trained for, told that he would one day enter his service. “I am Endyrn, I was apprenticed to The Mad Poet.” This gave the red figure pause, and as it neared the kneeling man, it flooded feelings of dread, anger, grief, sorrow, and yet a sliver of pride. However, this sliver vanished before it finished approaching. It did not grace its servant with words, yet did not instantly attack. This led to Endyrn raising his head, to look closer upon the crimson being. Now rising, the young elf makes the mistake of disrespect. His next words are of a tongue, one that was never stolen. An apology for it, but still a mistake. The figure in front of him becomes more solid, the feelings that permeate no longer sad, but rage, wrath, and fury. This anger is warning for the coming strike, clawing at him and sending him stumbling back. This was the cost of carelessness, with the restless spirit who had been given such a permanent stain of failure in life. However, the elf did not give up yet, regaining his composure. “I’ve always sought to be like you. I am also mali’fenn.” He tries to connect with the part of the spirit that he believes may still cling to what it was in life. The rage, however, is still storming into his very being, and he knows it didn’t work. He stands there, and what comes next is a rock, hurled into his chest. He stands, waiting, and another hits his leg. He takes two more, one to his back, then his head, before finally speaking again. “We all lived to serve you, I will not turn down your punishment.” This finally brings words from the vengeful spirit, as it sends one last stone to the man’s stomach. Then an assault on his ears begins, in a grating shriek. “I don’t want you. Leave!” It is then that the loyal cultist follows orders, and departs from the area, allowing his mind to be freed from the overwhelming rage that had been polluting it. This is not giving up, however, as he intends to make another attempt. Returning once more to the haunt a month later, he throws himself before his deceased master once more. This time, it does not seek to hear him out, as the only sign of acknowledgment of Endyrn’s arrival, as he once more is on his hands and knees, is the glimpse of solidifying feet. The poltergeist kicks the groveling man, stomping on his back. After no reaction, eventually a kick comes again. This is followed with a growl like a shovel being dragged on gravel. “Why have you returned, pathetic one?” The overwhelming malice that seeps into him tells Endyrn that if he does not leave, he is going to be more damaged than before. Still, he is not dissuaded. He rises to his knees, and draws an aurum dagger. Then, he tosses it in front of him. “I could fight against you, but I will not. I seek to honor you.” This act fails to appease the poltergeist. Whether seen as an insult, disrespect, pity, weakness, or whatever else, it only infuriates The Defiler even more. The red visage soon retreats, leaving Endyrn alone. He stays there, waiting, unsure of what will come next. He soon hears rustling from nearby. What appears is a wild coyote, with a clear bloodthirst in its eyes. Possessed by Evindal, it has been driven to attack, and soon throws itself at the man who still remains on his knees. It bites, claws, and scrapes, and as it goes to bite the neck all Endyrn does is stand. Continuing to have his body ravaged, his clothes become steeped with blood and torn to tattered shreds, barely continuing to cling to him. It is when he can bear no more, that he finally flees, kicking away the feral beast before running. Whether this attack angered the spirit, or earned its respect, he cannot stay to find out. His next visit comes two months later, having needed more time to recover enough from his injuries. A bandaged, gaunt man arrived at the site of the haunt for the third time, not fully recovered from the mauling that took place in his last pilgrimage. He carries no weapon with him this time, the aurum dagger having been left to be caked with dirt where he left it last time. He stares at the spirit, which awaits him, and this time does not grovel. The spirit is overtaken with grief, which floods Endyrn’s mind as he draws closer. He is encouraged by this, as he does not feel the wrath that was present before. The waves of sorrow that wash over him cause him to hesitate, as he looks around the area. He sees scraps of rubble, rotten wood support beams, stone bricks, the remains of an old village. “You picked a good place to linger” This is what he comments, as he turns back. The red visage mimics his survey of the area around them, before the waves of sorrow only deepen. “I wish I’d gotten to visit before the fall.” This is the spark that burns away the sorrow, using it as fuel for rage. Now flickering a more vibrant red, a heavy stone, much larger than the ones before, is flung at Endyrn, now sending him sprawling to the ground. He has no time to respond, or begin to stand, as he is sent into a coughing fit that splatters blood on the grass beside him. “You have no right to speak of what you do not know!” The spirit screeches at him, yet is answered calmly, his voice strained from the injury, and the damage it left. “Millstone… You were the Shepherd.” This is what he replies, bringing himself to stare up at Evindal The Shepherd from his knees. “I am the last of your flock.” It is with this that the spirit’s rage begins to dim, as the sorrow of before grows in its place. It motions for the patient servant to stand, which is done with difficulty. The two now face each other, before the spirit speaks in the most pleasant tone it can offer. “Right. This was the home I attempted to make. That is why I am here.” The spirit answers, mostly to itself, before addressing Endyrn. “You say that you were raised to be of my flock? They gave you patience, at the least.” This is the only acknowledgement the spirit gives of the injuries it inflicted on the elf each visit. It is then that the spirit decides to wander the wreckage of the fallen settlement, and offer a few casual words. It is told of how The Black Crown never found a new holder, and of who received The White Crown. They recall cult doctrine, as the elf is harshly tested by his superior to see how well he was taught. It is as they return to the spot where the aurum dagger lay, that Endyrn poses a question. “What would you have me do, when I become the only remaining follower?” The Shepherd addresses the last of his flock now, with the only guidance he has left. "Find the paradise that I failed to create."

should I apply and just list my infraction history? (it gives me a unique perspective to the server, a mass pugsy on my record definitely doesn't mean I shouldn't be trusted with god mode)

I've been SAYING we need something EXACTLY like this

"This will be a great change!" Endyrn remarks from an alchemy lab that definitely isn't located in the undead castle, "I totally don't know who this Felix guy is, but he sounds great."

It's true, I was there.

Endyrn, who used to go by vailu, cheers at the missive. "Our people are resilient as always. Maehr'sae Haelun'ehya, indeed, for our people will grow from this, and our hearts remain true." the Haelun'orian refugee swears.

vailu reads the missive as he recalls his experience fleeing the city, and the threat of the Aengul. "Elcihi has endured worse, and we will rebuild once again," he reassures himself.

[OOC: Keep in mind that although all of these things are accurate IRP, the knowledge or announcement of these things are not. Any information regarding personas mentioned within this post is not to be considered common knowledge. This was my first persona on the server that I’ve been playing for over 4 years now, so I became very attached to him, here is the story of his life and death.] Recently, the Anthroparion known as Philos met his end in a duel with a mage. He lived a long life before that, though many of the stories are lost to time. One of the few records of his life is in entry 6, before he became an Anthroparion. It is unknown what happened to him in between writing this and when he emerged again, but he was much different from the man who Kariv had known. https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/193771-character-diary-sivians-notes/?tab=comments#comment-1788171 [OOC: The character doc that I had made for him. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hKEP3ctgyCqDjIWMMMIZqfWLkDOpQ8A4Qnt3L7Ua7tg/edit?usp=sharing ] Shortly after having become an Anthroparion, when talking to his creator: Learning of the fate that comes to him, of losing his soul, The Mad Poet is furious. He treasured his soul above all else, it was a major part of his being. He begins to feel lost, shattered, he is not The Mad Poet anymore. The creator tries to calm him, he tries to reason with the man who is now unsure of himself. With the complete death of The Mad Poet, rain began to pour. … However, that was not the end. He discovered an ability. He was an experiment of this mad alchemist, and this ended up leading to a discovery. He did not die. His body, with this mysterious vivacion, could reform itself. He was the second Anthroparion to ever be made, and the last one left from his time. His creator, having tried to play God, had created something that would have lived on for eternity. Philos, what came to be his new name, his new identity, after his previous self had Shattered, would die countless times, the vast majority self-inflicted. He found only one goal remained, and that was to reunite with his soul. The true fear that he would be utterly gone after his death, with no afterlife awaiting him, or the Anthroparion mind, they both had a looming psychological horror they faced, that of the certainty that there was no afterlife. When it all ended, things would just go black. The soul would never know that the body had lived on, they were truly forsaken creatures. … One day, Philos met up with a friend of his, named Juniper. They met a friend of hers named Lanre, and after chatting, Philos and Lanre decided they wanted to spar. Philos said the words that he believed to be the truth, “I am immortal.” so that Lanre wouldn’t hold back. There were spectators, bets on who would win, and yet the duel concluded in a blazing fire destroying the body of Philos. In his last act, he threw his head out, to give himself a few more seconds. For the first time, after dying hundreds of times, he had felt true pain. He experienced mortality again. He knew he was dying, and so he gave out his last words. As the eyes of the head dimmed, the last sign of life on the corpse finally burned out, after the long decades the body had to live well past its expiration date. It was a fitting end for this one of two brothers. Kariv Siv, his brother who had died long before him, had died in a similar way, in a duel. Both were untimely ends to their tragic lives. Fitting. At last, the Sivs are truly at rest. … The fears were right. As the head loses consciousness, all that is left is black. In misguided hopes to revive it, the head is stored, preserved, but there is no afterlife. This initial experimentation by a man who tried to play God, has finally come to an end. There is no more pain, no more death, no more life. There is finally nothing.

Amazing post, per usual with you Cheese

Im fine with not logging on

I think that the sign warp system was better, personally, because including the soul stone thing for all warps can be tedious and confusing, especially for new players. When I first saw it I, after around 4 years, needed to be walked through it. Although yes, I am small brain, so are many other players. I think warp signs was best, they are overall so much simpler. Also I liked when CT was a place on the map, so you didn't have to warp away. Sometimes I like just walking out of CT, seeing the scenery of the temple, like we did on Arcas.

Full name: Victor Felix de Ravensburg Summers’ old: 38 Clerical role: Priest Diocese of Service: Nescia Minister of Ordination: Pontian IV Racial identification: [!] “Human, child of Horen” had been filled out on all admission forms [!] Sex: Male [Username: Psymatra ] [Discord: sim the sophist#2631 ]

A Thesis on Devout Life Written by Acolyte Felix Life that is lived for GOD is by all means lived with the right intentions. The living of life under the teachings of The Scrolls can be done in many fashions, all with their contributions to the church. The greater goal of all should be to live the life that their reading of the scrolls sets out for them. A lowly peasant with nothing could be just as great a monastic worshiper as a noble giving up all they have. A warrior who struggles not to make the sin of giving in to wrath could turn their blade to hunting abominations, patrolling roads, or being a holy warrior serving the clergy. Even a non descendant, who believes the teachings, could try to spread the word and serve in any way they can, forsaking their heritage. All can live a devout life, it is only that there is no one way, as the scrolls are for everyone, and GOD is forgiving of those who may not be able to serve the same as another. Of all the paths set out in the scrolls, the one that spoke most to me as fulfilling the most of what is asked for us, is the life of the monastic and selfless. To dedicate your life to having little, and helping others provides the most opportunity for others to thrive. And, as you let others live a life to reach GOD, you are therefore doing the most you can for him. In this lifestyle, you avoid wrath, as you live to benefit others, you avoid all gluttony, greed, and lust as you are living a monastic life, and as you avoid those sins, you also surpass trying not to sin, with your demonstrations of dedication to GOD showing how humbled you see yourself as next to him. Although, if everyone were to live a life like this, then it would be a waste, and we could not thrive, so this style can only exist thanks to the sacrifice of others that live differently, to create this opportunity, as we are never great by ourselves, we need our fellow man and GOD for true greatness. He who would reach heaven alone does not deserve it, for he has not been able to guide others with the path he blazes forth. A passage from the holy scrolls that I feel greatly helps represent this is, “...in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not be idle, nor forget your duties in favor of sloth. (Virtue 4:8)” This is a great reminder of the dedication needed, so the dedication needed to willingly live a life of hardship and selflessness is a way to directly do as was asked of us. Most importantly with this lifestyle, however, is to truly live a humble life. If you offer all you can, then accept less, such as giving another a carpet to sit on and sitting yourself on the floor, giving them your soup so that you may eat stale bread, you may speak of it, but not gloat, for “...in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not be idle, nor forget your duties in favor of sloth. (Virtue 7:8)” This shows us the hardest aspect of this lifestyle, feeling humble about living humbly, so it is important to suffer in silence. If you give someone else your coat so that you may be drenched in the rain in their stead, you need not beg thanks, or mention it for praise. We should all seek to live a devout life, in whatever path that we may most greatly serve in. Whether that be turning your skill to use for the church, or giving up your wealth to live humbly, there is something to be done. It is most important to live for GOD, and I would gladly offer my appreciation to all who live such a truly noble life.

*Sweats in being on both sides.*

"I love worshipping cannons as much as the next guy but this is just idiotic." The Mad Poet says after reading and deciding the missive was just baseless slander.

Oh, how happy I am for these happenings.