Cally

glad new administration takes care to be relevant, open, and understanding of all. setting the bar for the new world we live in with equity and inclusion, knowing our peers are just peers, no matter who they love.

Honest, Walter Weiss or John Marsyr. .. . but on the DL, its Ser Peter Stroheim.... @HugoAntero

The callous lady, glancing over the missive did she hum, a whetstone gripped to hone axeblade to a sharp point. And after the news of the one named Dean would she begin accepting duels as she always had, and never lost. "Man or monster, challenges must be met with force." She told her levymen, of which scattered to search for the Dean-slayer, and entrap him in fair single combat.

* meows in pure adunian *

Reserved for Elendur

who asked

not the point at all. the vinovians and all that have done plenty of bad-faith things in the name of a better narrative that just simply isnt true. and I've no doubt that whitelist applications had been written by him and pancho, and being caught? another instance that could have been avoided. (though i admit i know nothing about specific scenarios, i just know the way he's conducted in the past.) it isn't to say I dislike the guy, it'd be more to point out a stupid choice, and at that; i dont entirely agree that metaplay is always harmful either. and the mods have created a dumb dumb insert of more work for themselves and a million more headaches. especially when their team isnt paid, and is strictly volunteer based until administration. I'd quit if I were them. also no one was happy about hogo, bye hogo. thanks for nothing.

meow

The elfess Reiha gave a smile upon the missive, for she had always believed in the change. A change, well needed, well executed, and thankfully well-received. Nothing was as freeing as a new horizon, peering from her observatory unto lush reed fields, giving a whole new meaning to a daylit triumph.

The IMPISH FIEND had crashed into scene, thwapping the Prince Argelion across the face with a wrothful bout of malflame. . . Later, did the Imp Lord's mother and it murmur and scheme in damned whispers, hailing a hell they would surely bring. Nefarious plans, gossip galore! "YEHEHEHEHEehHEhehe! YEEEEHEHEHEhEhHEHEHE!" They cackled together as the moon set.

The gods, those all above were cruel to Maerîl this night. From their place lightly below did she wake to the sound of chains rattling, and a knock at her door. . . The Matriarch squirmed from her quilts, and shuffled to meet the sound. To her horror was a note handed to her. Upon her rough unfurl was she met with the strung, a strung deep in her heart breaking so violently. A scream came over her. "MY BABY, MY BABY!" . . . Collapsing to the floor, the mother cried as large hands came to console her from the innards of her chambers, hands that trembled too for the loss of something so magnificent. ( @Bones) From those days forth, the Matriarch had naught expressed a smile, her mouth never inclining even at the greatest jape. She was numb, numb at the thought that this was all her doing. . . That she had never heard Naoise, the babe that she held in her womb, the second child that mirrored features of the High Lady. The babe was hers, in ways that many couldn't understand. She had failed. She had let her baby girl down. She had made her closest daughter feel so suffocated that she took her life. She was a terrible mother. ... The woman would never be the same, but continued on, mournfully, in her honor.

this means my idea bout bloodletting witches can finally take off!!!! srsly anyone complaining about this truly had no idea the magnitude of hate that ran deeply into this community with some witches willingly holding onto their shackles when a community screamed at them to leave. you know who u are. free yourself to a greater purpose. your life isn’t only witch.

An 'ame, no older than thirty; had things to express. . . Likewise a vote, much like Illynora's is cast amongst the box of concerns. Penning her thoughts in hope that her oathbound family had the mind to listen.

MC Name: CallyI Discord: callypso Image: Description of Image: The Fortress Garenbrig for a painting! Dimensions: 1 high, 2 wide

Cacophonous laughter roars from the O'Rourke Company at word of the missive, speckled spots in the streets of Númendil erupt into a stout giggle as the missive is passed from person to person.

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lay off the alcy bro we all support you!1!!! i gave too much of a **** too once!

he’s the story admin bro. this screenshot was from today. last i checked, story admin verdict was pretty final

more reason that idk who u are nor where you heard that crazy story you told but idk bro you might want to be asking the story admin who made the verdict that logically trumps yours, not me don’t shoot the messenger man my hands are up 🙌🏻

What in the world are you talking about ??? I think u got the wrong guy, this never happened. i dont even know really who you are besides a hyspian player. regardless; here's proof of admin ruling. ur funny tho, person sounds like a catch, but that wasnt me???

u gotta be farting me yall. now we’re making amendments to argue with lore admin ruling? some good sports the necro player-base has become

The Matriarch had gotten a personal copy from her librarian-in-arms and wordsmith sibling in the arts. She framed some of his illuminated manuscripts in carved arbor, and wowed upon them every time she entered her bed chambers, reading her friend's illustrious words sometimes whilst she laid in bed and awaited slumber to take her. He was an inspiration to her every day. Every. Day.

With the missive's arrival with the news to Numenost's mews, recitation was overheard by the brash Matriarch in golds and greens. Upon hearing of the Duchess' demise she smiled, though it faltered at once, remembering the only hope she had at getting armament to return to her House's vault was gone from a bolt in the chest. This had been the first, but not the last time the Matriarch had been disappointed with in-laws and kin that broke promises, smiling to her face but whispering malice to peers behind backs. The Matriarch, after delving deeper into her devotion to Malchaediel, adopted the belief that oathbreakers and vile lords and ladies gave her wrinkles. . . Today, she looked especially youthful. She was glad to be rid of another fountain of drama in her newly quieted life. Now her son wouldn't have to feel so burdened.