DistantCryprid

A disheveled elf resting on one of the trees nearing Orenian lands took the missive into their uneven hands, reading over the words and demands, the smile usually plastered across their face didn't falter, their tired gaze flickered across the land they watched over for now, Elvenesse was not their home and most citizens were not their kin. But so weren't the orcs, yet they hoped for this to end, for once in their lifetime they found themselves in prayer. For the wars to end, for the violence to halt... ...yet they knew their wish was not going to be granted, that the conflict was none of their business.

Noice

Having a memory wipe that easily made is gonna backfire so bad y'all gonna have whiplash, it's gonna get abused, because LotC is the actual meaning of the phrase "this is why we can't have nice things." Have you even met your own player base? Some dips**t is gonna loophole this like they always do and ruin it for everyone else.

Ah s**t Joel got the shotgun, good for him, good for him. in all seriousness though please don't let yourself get burnt out my man, server's meant to be fun for everyone, even the masochists that decide to manage it.

Boreal read over the missive, by themselves in their home, they merely decided to join Hareven's habit of folding them into origami as they finished reading them, or merely using the backside for drawing and writing. "Perhaps something more entertaining would come from this realm aside from political bickering? Who knows." The pale elf mused, their usually mirthless complexion curling up into a smile.

The Boreal Druii read over the missive "Oh F**k no, Hell no" They mumbled out under their breath, as they then got up and walked away from where they read it from, taking their staff and disappearing into the wilderness surrounding Elvenesse.

Salute. Have fun my guy, you deserve to rest.

Good stuff, +1 from me my guy.

Siruonn's head reeled back from the vision, body tensed before they exhaled sharply, they glance at their fae-ish arm that they had recently slammed against their desk repeatedly, then at the other arm, they were incomplete, abominable and that arm was the perpetual reminder of such, reminding them of who they lost, who they failed to protect. "Prayer, huh" Their voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it held the weight of the previous years in it "well, if i can take anything away from you, is that if you want something done, you should do it yourself" the statement was a hiss under their breath. "sleep well, sister." Siruonn then asked, they did not plead, it was merely a wish, a farewell of sorts. "Sleep well."

A disheveled elf , upon receiving notice of his passing paused, taking in a breath and raising their oddly shaped hand to their face. Siruonn's refusal to cry was in no way out of spite or out of anger, but out of fear, fear that someone that similar to them had come to an end, doubt about how and why bounced inside their mind like a pinball machine, rattling the inside of their skull, they had spoken to him few hours before the fact, yet they did not know how his story ended, and perhaps they did not want to know either.

Can we please get rid of vortex since we're already nuking the useless sh*t?

Sounds Good.

Siruonn does a double take as they saw the missive, reading the part of where they mentioned fighting the sea over and over again, groaning for a solid 30 seconds before rubbing the bridge of their nose with their plant-like arm and exhaling, their sleep-deprived mind trying to make sense of what they read for so long they actually considered just ignoring it. "the sea? really?! the ****ing sea?!" was all that left the Boreal Druii's maw as they shuffled in their seat to do something else...

Siruonn's form shrunk into itself as the sorrow surged through them, the loss hit them, their teacher, their housemate and their best friend didn't share the same sky as them anymore, they cried, head buried in their knees as wave after wave of sobbing rippled through their being picking up in intensity as the time went. "bastards... all of them" they hissed out under their breath, their sorrow being stampeded into something else, a seething flame under their skin.

"what they gonna do? Mother****ers can't even hold a sword right!" The Boreal Druii spoke out with a snort, that developed into roaring, wheezing laughter right after as their beaked facade stood statue still, while their ever-present grin was on full display. As they held their stomach with a gloved hand. "also what's with it with children in the military?!" they murmured out, a tilt of their head creating a popping sound from their neck. "There are more pressing matters at hand than your nation's bickering you mouth-breathing troglodytes."

The Boreal Druid peered up at the sky, watching the ever-distant bird and the bubble, challenges are to come, their smile never faltering and their beaked mascarade-like mask fixed across the upper part of their facade. They grit their teeth underneath all that, the lanky ball of hatred took their stave into their hands and exited their home, ready for things to go ****ing buckwild.

Siruonn stopped in their tracks, they grumbled some, spotting the bird tied to the balloon, they untied the creature with a brisk rip at the strings that bound it, before they took notice of the top hat, they paused, reading the note that was at it's side "oh... dear" The ever-smiling mali spoke, crouching by the hat and taking it into their hands, brushing the dust out of it's lid.

Siruonn's head reeled back as the vision struck them, whole form tensing at the sight. They drew in a breath, releasing it in a series of jagged huffs. The Boreal druid's mind raced, their ever-present smile curling up into a snarl, nose crinkled as several thoughts rushed their mind, unpleasant, vile ones. "A test?" They hissed under their breath, balling their hands into fists. "Holding Bluejay, my father and her brother hostage for a.. Test?" Boreal shrilled out, something new seething under the surface. "Oh well... it is time to prove that ***** wrong." They thrummed out, drumming their fingers against the staff they leaned against in moments of fatigue. "Time to do the job that she didn't."

Good s**t, +1.

It's here!

A disheveled elf stopped in their tracks, the tome catching their eye, they took it and read it's pages over with their usual deadpan of a face, releasing a sigh, relief? Consideration? Who knew! They hummed to themselves, retrieving the book to where they found it. Continuing their day with resolve.

I Honestly adore this rewrite. The amount of posibilities of flavorful roleplay and atmosphere changes makes me very happy and excited to see what people would make of this lore piece. The previous lore made shade seem to be more of a exchange than a curse, of course, you’d get the downsides and weaknesses, but the amount of strength that one would gain as a shade made it seem like a fair trade which a curse is not meant to be, or to have a “quick fix” via being able to be rid of it by someone else. In summary, great work, you get a +1 from me.

The shadeling would let out a low hiss of air through her nose upon reading said message, she would look around the room she was at, folding the copy she had in hand and pocketing it, wordlessly marching towards Sutica.

Ilueth paused upon recieving the news. Silence took over her often noisy and relentless mind. She lowered her head, ears flattened as she eyed the staff Alva has once given to her. She stares and stares as if tring to assimilate and make sense of what she’s heard. Her face pale and her her expression violently bare as she allowed the grief and dread swirl inside her being. ”... I hope you are not pained any longer, Mother”