Captain Jester

Why do paladins wear chain mail? Because it's Holy armor. Three orcs and a dwarf walk into a bar. One ducks while the dwarf walks underneath it. Why do elves have pointy ears? There's got to be some point to elves. There's a Lunarite that's 50% off, what a starsteel!

Many children feared the death of their loved ones, especially those that always were there for them since the day they first opened their eyes. Viktor has heard the woes, the tale old as time where Death always lingered, how that there is beauty behind it always. But the young Barclay knew, it was so much easier to sing rather than actually live through it. He sat at the edge of his bed, staring solemnly at the wall across from him. His fingers fiddling with one another as he remains lost in his mind, gathering all the good memories he could recall of his dear mother. Yet, his lips would always fall into a deeper frown, each happy memory felt more like a stab in his heart than a warm hug. That's the way a recent death goes, isn't it? Every second Viktor closed his eyes, he saw his mother standing with him and his siblings within the Reinmarian rose fields. The love in her eyes as she watched them all play with one another. How quick Viktor was to tend to a rabbit, chasing after it as it scurried through the bushes. How faint her laughter seemed now. The sun that smiled warmly down at the family, now distant and cold behind the grey clouds that always loomed through the sky. Every child, young or old, in sorrow would always ask the question to themselves: why. Why did everything they love have to go? What will they do when someone or something they cherish disappears? Viktor Erwin Barclay is no different. Then a small, sharp drop stings his hands. Snapping Viktor out of his thoughts. "Ah." Viktor sniffs, rubbing the palm of his hands against his running tears. "Tears." He'd utter out weakly, forcing a tight smile. "Get it together, cheese boy." Viktor whispers to himself, scanning around his bedroom to make sure no one was in sight. Though more tears seem to rush down his cheeks, his own heart aching more as he realized how starting right now... His mother will not be here. Finally, Viktor lays back into his bed, sobbing to himself as he mourns.

"Ahhh, Ja, am getting married." Viktor sings rather joyfully to himself, rubbing his hands together as the young, not-as-holy Viktor Barclay helps himself with his charcuterie board- most consisting of CHEESE.

Illynora!?

Ok, better question, if you could sacrifice a Sylvaeri to your lord and savior, Spongebob. Would you sacrifice Idril or Feanor?

This ^^^

If you could- sell avocados to God, would you sell 2 of them to him for 10 bucks?

A blonde 'aheral rested his arms over the balcony, gazing at the setting horizon that sat across from him. The two suns staring at each other. The breeze dances through the trees as the ocean waves brush against the Vales walls in a gentle caress. The man thought deeply to himself, mulling over today's events. He didn't know her very well but he remembered how she cried when the corrupted fae crushed her with it's wooden paws, encasing her with its sick roots. He stood right next to her and tried hard to free the woman. The sheer panic flashing in Laedrads eyes and the roar he emitted when his prey had harmed his beloved, the fire within him igniting. His goal in this trial no longer hunting but to save Tanila from the corrupted fae's clutches. Then the fae transforms into a gnarled, grotesque tree where it not only held Tanila in the center as it's own beating heart, but Nenar as well. It nearly took another as well. A standing proof of how life can take as much as death could. A year past and the two are saved, at least their lives are at the time. It didn't come as a surprise when it was announced that Tanila would be the sacrifice for the stones to save the blighted lands. It didn't have to happen, Nenar and her family wouldn't be experiencing this grief- this pain if Ando Alurs mages... Evar'lae takes in deep breath through his nose, shaking his own head. It's life. That's one of the purposes of a druid, isn't it? To clean up the mess that irresponsible and selfish mages make. A common task that every occupation has, cleaning up the mess that someone has made. A thankless, never-ending cycle. There's no point now. What Tanila did was beautiful and courageous, he always heard the mantra of druids being willing to die for their duty but he has never heard of any other druid truly stepping up to actually die besides Tanila. Besides Nenar but that's to be expected. May she rest in peace now in the Eternal Forest among friends and family. Her sacrifice will not be forgotten. Evar'lae bows his head, pushing himself off of his balcony to return to his table and write, perhaps tonight is the night he takes another step forward into his dedicancy.

OHHOHOHOHOH, I NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN! 👀👀👀👀👀 On the left is Evar'lae in Feb 2020 and this is him currently! Bonus is him with his dyed hair, HAH! He went from shy, polite man to semi-polite and tad shy. He also lost his right arm too, good thing he's ambidexterous. There's simply no single sentences that can explain the development of Evar'lae! Then there's Elanor last Spring on the left and here she is on the right! Not much has changed really except her color base palette. The only difference here is that I started her off at maybe 13 and now she's 56+. She used to be abrasive and loud, since she was a literal young teen but now she's learning to be the opposite of that. I've another character but he didn't get much character development, not yet at least.

Elanor Sylvaeri would be lounging on the swing at the lake not so far from Elvenesse. She smiles down at the invitation, letting out a sigh. "Aw, that's sweet. I remember when I celebrated my coming of age." The fifty-six year old elfess casts her gaze over the water, speaking thoughtfully to herself, "Wonder if I can steal one of Visenya's outfits..."

noice

"If I had a mina for every time someone in the community got grudged, I'd have four." Evar'lae would be heard muttering to himself after he's read the missive. He crumples it up, tossing it to the camps' firepit before he walks on off to the forest and tend to his aging direwolf companion.

"Fits just like a glove!" Evar'lae could be heard within his home after he had tried on the swanky armor.

Skin: 2Bid: 500IGN: Cpt_Calamity | Cmmdr_JesterDiscord:Jester_Calamity#5378