TryaxReck

Dogo Ragner throws the missive into the fireplace. "HAHA, I HAVE BEATEN THE ALLEGATIONS!" He shouts.

He began his life taking from the land, relying on nobody but himself to see to his survival. He explored such beautiful things so young: The way those southerly sands shifted like beige waves in the great desert oceans, shimmering and glittering little imaginary gemstones with the aid of that scorching sun which made your tongue go dry and throat go hoarse if you didn’t drink enough water. Or how the east ebbed and flowed with her endless plains, those gentle declivities never seeming to end, only to shift in it’s inclines and dives into the earth. He ended his life taking from man, trusting them. He explored such beautiful things so long ago. The way the city toiled with treachery now filled him with bittersweet memories, wondering if the rose tinted glasses had truly been on for so long. Shimmering and glittering imaginary coins that claimed to buy enough water to douse the sun always fell short of their promises. Gentle words that whispered reassurances as they plotted for their own gain. The scales weighed, shifting only as fingers pressed down, diving the balance in favor of another. A rush of blood to the head. He felt it leak down him as he panted, sweat and sinew lining his visage as his chest continued to breath in and out, adrenaline dying as he stood next to the corpses of two beasts which breathed terrible fire, charring the land about him. What took five men to kill one of Alec did so singularly with two. Was this not a sign? Surely it was. Those cowards had not the guts, had not his burning will. He was to be a great slayer amongst men, accepting no payment aside from the glory of battle. How noble of him, he thought to himself, grinning ear to ear as he began to find in his victory hubris. It burned. He felt it wrap around his head as the flames charred flesh and maimed him, the crossbow bolt erupting into forsaken flames activated by a rush of blood to the head. Traitors, cowards, fools deluded by their own sense of grandeur believing themselves higher than what they swore to: hubris. They looked over him with a sneer, the beings which Alec would have tossed coins as payment to now tying him up, carrying him off. It took the work of five to fell him, one small victory in his defeat. He at least, did not fall singularly. “Oh, Alec!” The man grunted, the woman gasped, hands gripped onto flesh as the bones sparked with electricity. Gentle words and sweet whispered nothings filled the air as man and woman met. Oh it was such a pleasant burning passion, that act of union. He found it utterly encapsulating, perhaps the one pleasure he could allow himself too. It wasn’t a drug, but it offered euphoria. It was worth all the mina in the world, but there was no price put on such a thing. And so did love and lust mix as the sweat poured down, with a rush of blood to the head. And so he fell into it, like a sweet daydream, or midday fever. “Oh Alec!” How many times had he heard that? The man grunted, the woman gasped, the hands gripping onto meat that held no feeling as the years wore on, his sensation being lost from the pounds of flesh removed from his body. They still came to him with their lustful looks, not minding the metal appendages and ugly wounds which despite having healed left their mark on the man like how wine stains the teeth. It was a drug, certainly. It felt less and less, craved more and more. Did he love them? Did it matter? It was a drug and he needed it's relief, however painful the morning after would be. And so he fell into it, like a mundane nightmare, or burning fever. A child he was, carried in the arms of souls which were more knowing, infinitely more wiser than he. He looked up. Lucky to be alive, luckier still to not have lost limbs- all this luck that eluded men stuck to him like flies on spread honey- perhaps it was GOD, he wondered, that creator which had formed him from flesh like one sculpted clay gifting unto him a lesser divinity- destined for greatness. Destiny, Alec thought, was something he could live with. He carried him in his arms, cradling a broken form of a young boy that when looked at he only saw himself. Honor and hope and all good things as stated to be by GOD, crushed by bad luck. It eluded him there, letting another being live. The bone turned to meat as the flies stuck to the body like spread honey, and Alec wept at how lucky he was. Lucky to be alive, luckier still to have survived without a scratch whilst he looked on at this child that had died. How bittersweet. He did not feel lucky. He was a father. He looked down upon them as he beamed with pride, knowing that they’d go farther than he ever would. He would give them advantage, providing them his knowledge, his tools, his flesh and blood was here before him, birthed from a woman he loved so dearly. It was a perfect munality. He celebrated good fortune and vast wealth in a farmhouse, for a time taking up the plow and laying down the blade, at the behest of a woman who deemed it so. And life went on, and life was good if but for awhile, his story seeming to just begin with them. He was a sinner. Was it wrong? Surely not. A father was to love their sons more than life itself, and he had certainly proven that as the noose tightened around his neck. He loved them, his sons. His burning suns which light up charred skies. He would not live to see it, but they would. In a rush of blood to the head did he hit her, frenzied by the thought of his suns being extinguished from his life, their light ripped from his grip by a woman he loved. He felt sick, the betrayal went farther than any blade or bite would. His flesh and blood was there before him, a hand of meat and one of metal laying on the base of the gallows, cut off by a man whom loved that woman less than he. He knew it was less. He knew. And as he heard the crank of a lever, he knew that the story had only just begun. Why must it end so abruptly? And life went on as he saw her eyes. He wondered if - The crack of a neck. The meat hung. So it goes.

Alec hates doctors due to their constant insistence that he needs to take his schizophrenia medication

I now know where the cool in peachcool comes from.

In regards to the Athin change, while I am pleased to see that it's property of giving players an actual resistance to heat, I would like to see that the change removing it's cooling effects be reverted back into it's state before this post. These properties are unique and many items, ranging from Thanhium transportation and cooling systems utilize said property. What reason was there towards the removal of the cooling property? Perhaps I'm not seeing it from your POV, but to me it seems uneeded. I also really like wearing my armor in hot desert environments, and athin-waxxing was the only really viable way to do so.

Alec wonders if the vale will send their immortal child soldiers to attack the Waystone tavern. He had heard tales across Almaris of pre-teens to young adults having this strange tendency to come back from the dead, even after being sent on nigh-suicidal charges by their chieftains. He personally assumed it to be some sort of druidic blood magic, but he was not a man for thinking. There was a wheat crop to harvest. And then he went back to farming. So it goes.

As the news was spread around, Alec closed his eyes and gave a shaky sigh, clutching his two infant sons close. He spoke warily, eyeing the forest for the amber-colored eyes which haunted his nightmares. He brushed his hand against his maimed face, product of that Edmond's crossbow bolt. "Dey won' take ye, de Hexer's ain' goin' take ye. Ah'll make shure o' tha'..." He kept watch that night, making sure that the baby-snatching monster hunters would not come for his own. He wouldn't have been able to sleep, anyways.

Hey Slorbin idk why you keep writing down all your amazon orders on my address, we haven't lived together for over a month now and it's kinda weird having you come over every thursday when the UPS guy drops it off, like, you can just get them delivered to your place? If you wanna hang out man im fine doing that but it's sort of getting weird at this point :/ lmk if I need to fill out anything on my end to get this whole address thing fixed Cheers, TryaxReck

wtf I literally taught u how to use /sit and /walk am I not good enough to rp with??? pain.

Alec watched as idiotic nobles were conned out of their mina. He wondered when the Ferrymen would just up and conquer all the nations of Man themsleves. Easier access to the treasury, he'd imagine. And then he went back to farming. So it goes.

A group of peasants looked at the missive. With all their efforts, they managed to decipher the large print at the top of it: "Critique of Academia." Attempts at deciphering the finer text led to curses, insults, and one fist-fight. [!] "Finalley, someone is telling those intellectuals who's who!" [!] "Ohohoh, I bet this has some juicy stuff in it! I bet they're stuffing it to that damned geography survey, or whatever they call it." [!] "You know, they should start makin' critiques on those cityfolk and their socialism. Life ain't a social party! Get real."

While we all know there's a long way to go rebuilding the foundations of trust that were broken, I'm glad to see there are efforts to pick up the pieces to perhaps one day put them back together. The first step is always the hardest, and you guys took it. You guys are all rock-stars.

ban all forms of roleplay bc none of you people are able to use critical thinking let me romance rp in peace its all i have now I don't have noble or spook friends to invite me to cool cliques

Alec waltzed on over towards the ruins of Vuillermoz along his travels, giving a little sigh. "N' eye 'fer n' eye, toof 'fer ah toof. Leavin' de 'ole world mumblin' an' bloind." He walked towards the invisible line seperating the Heartlander & Highlander, looking at the small villages with a weary frown. The frontier would begin to smell of smoke...

-snip-

Alec never turns down the opportunity to meet new folks, and this would be no exception!

Alec watches on with a heavy heart, having finally convinced the peasantry to lay down their arms and returns to their fields. He retired back to his humble little shack, hoping he didn't cause too much of a ruckus with all that shield banging he'd done. Ah well. At least he had his stew... The man hums a little Savoyard tune he picked up on the trek home, letting the scents of blood-lotus flow throughout his Dobrov abode. And so it goes.

(pulled bid due to OOC payment issues)

I will do to you that I did to Unwillingly and Twandhi.

With the current Urguan - Oren war, it seems there are no limits to how low people will go. As such, I've decided to profit off the hatred of the opposing party by hosting an upvote auction. The bid starts at 100 Mina, and the maximum you can raise the bid is by 100 mina. The bidding will end whenever I FEEL like it. I can re-open bidding at any time if for some reason I decide to back out, most likely because I scammed the everloving hell out of the last guy who sent me the money. For an additional fee of 1000 mina, I will create a post (or reply to an enemy post) that will ratio them. This is a separate thing and depends on my availability / schedule. If you have any questions, feel free to dm them to me at TryaxReck#5305 Without further interruptions, let the BIDDING BEGIN!

speaking in terms of the server 3/10 speaking terms of how much i personally value u 10/10 :)

I gotta go poop so I'll watch this rq while im pooping EDIT: hey just finished watching it, that was pretty cool man it helped me poop :)

Alec silently hoped all of the noisy forum-posters found themselves marked in one of the casualties. Seriously, five battles with tens of thousands dead, and not one of them were the loudmouths? God must be playing tricks on mortal men, surely.

Alec had no stomach for killing men. He didn't like it, it went against his Canonist beliefs, and to be quite frank, he wasn't even quite good at it. But despite all of that he still found himself as a hero that many began to rally behind, whether he liked it or not. And so did the idle winds blow in favor of revolution as the peasantry cheered: "ALEC, HERO O' DE COMMONERS!" There goes the neighborhood...