Satyrdays

70 year old bachelor on the prowl. Ladies/gentlemen/theys/married couples/polycules, strike the metal while it’s hot.

fail -1

omg my own funeral 🤩

guys i dont know how to get rid of page breaks so pretend youre reading a book idk..... mreow :3c

Born the 52th year of the Second Age. Danika was born from a love affair between Gildroc Goldhand and Dagura Ireheart. Her mother abandoned her soon after her birth to live as a free spirit, her father raised her by himself. She didn't even know anything about her mother until she was much older, often hearing the joke that she came from her father's beard. One of the few girls in Urguan, Danika didn't have friends. She had uncles, many uncles. Torsun Goldhand, a distant cousin. Sigrun Ireheart, her father's friend. Alaric Grimgold, a more distant cousin. Rylanor Goldhand, the clan father in her youth. Lonely. Danika was so lonely within the slumbering mountain. Her friends would be her books, and, oh, she had many 'friends'. Hours and hours of reading, totalling to years worth of wasted time. Alone. Daydreaming. She would make stories in her head when she ran out of books to read. Princes and princesses solving the tricks of dastardly beings, saving their loved ones, reunited and happy in the end. A prince finding a princess, happily ever after. Happily ever after. Danika dreamed of a happy ending all her life. A prince to sweep her off her feet. She never knew the comfort of having friends, but, gods, did she wants to know the comfort of family. She wished she could write her own books. And she did. She wrote a singular book, over seventy pages. It was never published. --=+=-- The first loss. A memory now hazy to her due to her young age at the time. All she remembers is seeing her father leave their home one last time, the usual goodbye, the usual kiss to the top of the head. The next, she's being told by Torsun and Sigrun that her father is dead. She was told he shaved his head in shame and killed himself. He never said goodbye. What was she supposed to do? Gildroc was all she had. She became the ward of Sigrun Ireheart. One day, on one of the many days she went to visit his grave... A ghost puppeteered his corpse in front of her eyes, jeering at her. Mocking her. She dreams of his rotting body moving jerkily often. The Second loss. Her entire clan was ashamed. Labelled traitors. Torsun left. Ran off to the humans. Banished. Rylanor was killed. Executed. There was no one left to lead. Clan mother, the youngest in history. She didn't have a choice. Either she takes up the mantle or her clan falls apart. Whispering in her ear was her 'uncle' Alaric Grimgold. In the other ear, the banished Torsun Goldhand. Only a little girl, used as a puppet. She couldn't make her own decisions. She couldn't possibly try. She gave up, of course a little girl would; returned to the protection of her adoptive father. It was then she learned of her mother. Of the fact she was abandoned. Inevitably, Danika returned to a world of make believe. Alone. Daydreaming. --=+=-- It was years before Danika returned to Urguan, leaving her home, what had become her entire world. On her first few days back, she saw old faces, familiar faces. Yet, she didn't see her 'uncle' Torsun. She assumed him banished once more. Fate, it seemed. It was the 173rd year of the Second Age. She happened to meet a Grandaxe girl and the two spoke of books. The two of them approached the first dwarf they saw, asking where the library was. Thurgrim Silverbraid. He led them to the library. Though Danika was standoffish and cold, he made an effort to talk to her. He was different from the dwarves she had known before she hid away. Charming. Immediately, Danika set to making him the prince of all those stories she used to read. Her cold persona shifted to something open and friendly, something she hadn't been in decades. She was the one to ask 'do you want to talk over a drink?' At that very same dinner, or drink, together, Thurgrim learned she was a Goldhand. Immediately, he made her aware of something she had missed. --=+=-- A massacre. Her entire family. Murdered. Everyone. Gone. and... Torsun did it. . .. ... There was nothing she could have done. The last of her clan, a young dwarf named Grimni, took up the mantle of clan father. It was just the two of them left. Them, and Torsun. Out there. Somewhere. Hunting. Danika tries to focus on the task at hand, not the loss of her clan. She supports Grimni as best as she can. When he comes to her with a plan for revenge, she can't possibly convince him to do otherwise. Revenge. He planned to trap Torsun in a pit of all places, lured by the artefacts of their clan. It worked, somehow. Torsun, now a husk of a man, made of metal, fell into the pit, yet he seemed unharmed. Through the gabs in the walls Grimni spoke to him. Through the gaps in the walls Danika spoke to him. He barely spared her a glance, dismissing her. She only chuckled, too weary to try and get a explanation out of him. Nor closure. It was a rough night. Wrought with night terrors, memories, traumatic scenes from her childhood. --=+=-- Moving on. Thurgrim was there for her. They had their first date in the Halfling Shire, overlooking a lake and wheat fields. The sun shone down on them, making his red hair almost appear golden. She hadn't smiled so much in decades. They just talked and talked. Just like she dreamed. A happy ending. They had been together for seven years before he proposed. It was the 180th year of the Second Age. Danika returned from travelling to find out her partner had become the new Grand King. She never thought she could be a Queen. Never. Shocked would be an understatement. Of course, Danika was upset at Thurgrim for not telling her. Yet, he distracted her. By bending the knee and asking her to be his wife. Danika had always dreamed of being a wife to a charming prince. Reality instead brought her a charming Grand King. They were the first married within the new temple of the Grand Kingdom. As King and Queen. The ceremony was sloppily done, to be truthful. Danika had to give her entire ancestry as the officiator had mixed her up with another in the books. But it didn't matter. Because, no matter what, it be a statement of her love to her husband. Grand Queen of Urguan. The few years Thurgrim was Grand King, it felt like there were constant problems. It didn't last long, like most Grand Kings seem to do. When Thurgrim chose to step down, he was interceded and deposed only moments before he could post his own announcement. A grave insult, a slap to the face for the work he had done. Danika didn't love her underground home anymore, especially not with her first child on the way. She didn't want them to be as lonely as she was in her youth. These combined with the return of her 'uncle' Torsun Goldhand, somehow pardoned by the new Grand King and allowed to roam freely, formed the hard decision to finally leave their home. They decided to go to Númendil soon after Danika had her first two children. Twins, Zoriya and Devana, two baby girls. Red haired and hazel eyes. In Númendil her daughters were able to socialise and make friends their own age, like Danika never could. Zoriya was a sociable handful while Devana was placid and quiet. Danika loved her daughters deeply, though she had trouble showing it. She's always had trouble with things like that. When her youngest daughter came, this fault hadn't been fixed. Morana, strawberry blonde and green eyes. Adventurous, wildly so. Another bigger handful than their eldest. Thurgrim was left most of the work while Danika retreated, once more, into a world of fantasy. Not alone. Daydreaming. --=+=-- Danika died on the 12th of Grand Harvest 196 Second Age, aged 144. A loving wife. A mother of four. She had woken up like usual, walked down to find her husband and youngest daughter outside their home. An old friend of Thurgrim's was at the door. They exchanged a brief conversation before Thurgrim pulled her away to talk. An update on the situation in Urguan, affecting his clan. In truth, Danika was more focused on things affecting herself. She cut him short with reassuring words, holding his cheeks as she always would. "Ye'll be fine." "I love ye." A quick kiss and she went to speak to Morana. Danika could admit that she hasn't been the most active mother. It was never something she really pictured herself as, so she didn't acclimate to the role easily. Realising this, Danika wanted to spend time with her youngest daughter. Get to know her. Bond. While they walked along the road out of Númendil together, stopping at times to talk... A figure approached. A demon. "I need more souls... Lets see how the average dwarf measured up." It hissed sinisterly, brandishing a spear, pointed in their direction. Without a second thought, Danika withdrew the sword her husband had given her and stepped before her daughter. "Average?! I am above average at least!" She yelled to the demon, making a joke in the face of grave danger. "Go. Run. Find yer father." She whispered to Morana, watching the girl run away. As soon as she turned back around, she was dead. There was no way in hell that Danika could ever win that fight. In other words, her death was inevitable. --=+=-- Her body, rendered without a head, was brought back to Númendil. Straight to Thurgrim, the love of her life. Shocked into silence, all he could ask was for her to be moved to the clinic. There, she was draped in a pure white cloth, her hand left in the open. Once full of the warmth of life, Thurgrim holds her cold hand. It takes everything in him not to break down. Her daughter, Morana, had witnessed her death. She was brought to the clinic and saw her mother's covered body. Only once Danika's corpse was moved elsewhere did she run to her father. Clinging to Thurgrim's leg, he's forced to focus on comforting his youngest child as opposed to his grief. He takes her hand in his and spoke softly to her, "Ah'm here. Ah'm late- But ah'm here... Ah kept moi promise tae you." "Ah jus' wish it wasn' at th' cost of breakin' another." Running a thumb over her knuckles, remembering the warmth of their last interaction. "Ie love ye too, Dani." His voice threatens to break. "Ah'll never forget you. Or yeh gettin' angry with me... Or any of those times weh spent together." They return home. Thurgrim cleans off the diamond necklance he made for her all those years ago, taken from her corpse. And he gives it to Morana. Something to keep her mother close always. And he takes the wedding ring he made. Something to keep his wife close always. And that is the end of Danika Goldhand Ireheart Silverbraid.

Asphodel, the Boreal Witch, waits cutely for her magic teacher to actually teach her so she can be as useful as possible for the upcoming war, as opposed to a living ice bolt factory. She considers making some banners and embroidering them all pretty like for her sisters.

I am a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic with BPD, GAD, depression, etc. There have been more time than I could count where the disorders I suffer from are used as a joke on this server, specifically schizophrenia. This disorder which has greatly affected my life in ways I do not wish to share has been, time and time again, boiled down to being "crazy", "seeing things", "schizoposting", etc. I am incredibly uncomfortable with these portrayals and, of course, I would love for players to not do this, but no one can control what people find okay to joke about or funny. An amendment to the lore to get rid of medical diagnoses as examples of mental detriments will not change how people already inclined towards this behaviour roleplay them. People will continue, if they already found it fine, to portray mental disorders in a stereotypical and uncomfortable way. I accepted that soon after I was diagnosed that I have to be very careful who I tell as, crazily enough, these people will outright ask me for my experience so they can make their character "more schizo" (insane) or literally make fun of me when I barely know them. What I'm trying to say is; this amendment, if it passes, would not change people's minds if they already portray mental illness incorrectly or offensively. That's a sad fact of being on the internet. This is just my two cents as someone affected by this, so I'd prefer no arguments in response. Thanks.

Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴜɴʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴜꜱɪɴ'ꜱ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ 'ꜰᴇɴɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏɴᴇᴛʜᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴏꜰ Aᴅᴇʟɪᴀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ. A Qᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴛɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʜɪᴍ. Oɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʜᴀʀʙᴏᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴏᴛʜ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏᴛ. Bᴜᴛ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴀɢᴇɴᴅᴀ... ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʏ ᴀ ᴠɪꜱɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴄᴏᴜꜱɪɴ, ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ, ᴛᴏ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ. Tarron 'Eerikki' Atmorice would approach his desk, picking up a crow feathered quill and gingerly steeping it in a pot of maroon ink, hesitating only a moment before putting pen to paper. Aethuryair, I heard about what happened . . . Once the letter had been written and sent, the 'fenn would return to his home to set up a small funeral of his own; a single white candle beside another letter written to the recently departed. The candle would be left to burn itself out, untouched.

Name of Prospective Scholar: Stefaniya Mariya vas Ruthern Year of Birth: 178 Second Age Country of Origin: Balian Do you agree to abide by all rules of the Academy? Da

Mwari Ishe, Chieftess of the Abahambi, former Duchess and Queen of Elysium, has been spending her days in the desert in peace and contentment. Each day she thinks of her children as she walks the edge of the dry grasslands, the edge of her territory. Seeing a proud cheetah, she wonders how her darling Aja-Oya Leika is doing, if she’s married, if she has children, perhaps grandchildren. Continuing that thought, Mwari wonders if she may be a great grandmother. With a smile and a shake of her head she continues on her way to the waterhole, basket upon her head. Mwari Delilah Ishe de Astrea will perhaps never know of the fate of her daughter, or even of her other now deceased children. She continues to live her life happily. Ignorance is bliss. Antimonite, ex servant, has heard the news of the Monarch’s passing, of his old friends death. Distraught, he falls into a deep despair on par with the loss of his own mother and sister. Truly, Leika was his sister. No matter how far and how long it has been since he saw her and her husband, his dearest friend and sworn brother, still the sorvian holds them in his construct heart as the most important people in his life. He considers seeing Ehrendil finally at least to pay his respects but a deep deep shame prevails. How could he return at such a time, after abandoning his oath to protect Leika? With resignation, Antimonite returns to his literal hole in the wall home to once again go into isolation. An isolation permeated with self hatred, self pity, guilt, grief, and worse. What a great way to spend an eternal life.

Danika Ireheart, formerly Goldhand, despite being a far throw from the usual fighting group of her kin, finds word of this new grudge. Reading it half-heartedly as she sews a dress for a patron, the dwarf stops to sigh. “Oh, gods…” She sets her work aside to pray before her home’s shrine - For her kin’s protection, for innocent orcish people’s safety, and for her own. Kuku ‘da Red Menace’ Masamune, formerly Raguk, sets to sharpening her weapons and dusting off her old armour. She gives her son a pep talk and gifts him her best battle axe. Her goal in these times is to protect herself and her family, no matter what.

Danika Ireheart hears news of her clanmate's passing through gossip and, still within this conversation, would simply reply with: "Dayum." Soon the topic moves on and the dwarven women would chat about teas for hangovers.

Doctor Kuku ‘da Red Menace’ Raguk, formerly Merku Hawksong, daughter of Urza Hawksong, walks through the Iron City of Krugmar with a young orcish boy by her side. Her adopted son, a green hued boy; a stark contrast to the crimson skin of his mother, holds her large hand tightly as they make way to their home. Kuku hasn’t been herself lately. The trauma of believing her own mother abandoned her for her early life had caused her to lash out so harshly at her adoptive mother they no longer spoke. But, this did bring the woman to think of her real mother. They hadn’t spoken in a while, she should send her a letter, Kuku thought. She wouldn’t know, as she was hurriedly getting her child comfortable so she may start her letter, that it would never reach its intended recipient. If after months of no reply, Kuku would simply fall into a despair like no other at the thought even her own mother no longer wanted her.

(OOC) MC Name: Satyrdays (OOC) Discord: Satyrdays#0269 Name: Dayenna Zohar Maenaea Race: Mali'ker Profession: Bard and luthier Skill Level: Amateur Why you would like to work at the Clinic? (Alternatively: What draws you to medicine?): I have always had a natural affinity for hearing out the woes of others so as to relieve their stress, and I have been doing so for the friends I have found within Nor'Asath so far. I believe it would help those in this community if I were to help through professional methods and learn to be a real therapist.

Kuku da Red Menace glances over at Masuo when he starts speaking to himself again. She is confused. With a single shake of her head she resumes cooking.