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NLThomas

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About NLThomas

  • Birthday 02/20/2003

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    NLThomas#4337
  • Minecraft Username
    NLThomas

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Right behind you

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Kallian Syrivir
  • Character Race
    Snow elf

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  1. "The **** is gaslighting?" A old man mumbles to none but himself.
  2. Any type of RP that interests you that you still want to try out? Be it for a specific magic, cult stuff etc etc.
  3. a bearded man gazes over the burning city. Having fled out of the house to the hills. Debating on finding a new home with the city turning to ash.
  4. The young injured Jakob Morovar snorts lightly after reading the public missive. Folding it up. "Judge, jury and executioner. Should have just called the guards if it was a demon..."
  5. Jakob Dmitrey Morovar smiles brightly as he was handed a copy of the public missive. A bright day and future ahead of him, sleeping contently that night.
  6. Death of Courage "Great adversity has a beauty — it is the fire that tempers the blade." It was a long day. Orris Atmorice made his way home within the city of Fenn. Spear dragging after him over the ground. Sharp and cold like the freezing north. It has been a long time. Exhaustion plagued the elf, gaze had been tired for all those years. A demon plagued his mind, a woman, a pretender. Pretending to be kind. Yet poison is all she spoke to his ears. That which Plagues the mind Poison in the form of a false wine had been gifted to the servant of Courage all those moons ago. The nights became long, anger grew inside but mostly anxiety. Eyes searching in the dark, all set on him, Orris. It felt like around every corner someone was out to get him, making him no longer sleep. For too long it went on, and his mind was set upon one person. A Challenge Accepted "Injury and despondence set the stage for heroism... or cowardice." After what felt like ages of searching for the person that plagued his mind, a letter came in. a foul omen, a challenge he couldn’t deny. Courage ran through his veins, Malchediael’s light guided his mind. And it guided him to the tavern. The challenge was accepted and a fight commenced. Yet he was outnumbered, his magic did not help yet he fought with all he could. Until he was unconscious and he was dragged off. Not the End, yet. “In time, you will know the tragic extent of my failings…” Far below the earth, through dark tunnels and around corners the body was dragged. The first thing he asked upon awakening. “Why am I not dead yet?”. It was there he spoke with his captor, and where his final words were written down. Deep down he assumed it didn’t matter, that the letter wouldn’t be sent out and that it all was a lie. Yet it was the last thing that he could indirectly say to his wife. So, words poured out, the final letter and a final request, to have his ring handed over to her. Doom "And now the true test... hold fast, or expire?" Saw meets flesh, cutting meat and bone, separating limb from torso. Ear piercing screams echo through the chambers. The torture felt like forever in his mind yet was only mere minutes in truth. Both of his arms were removed, carried out of the chambers after. It was there he stared towards it, his doom. An invincible force lifted him up like a doll, playing with the proud Templar in his barely conscious state. The Final Act of Courage “Look how weak you are, how you failed your God.” The demonic voice spits out, the smile hearable in its voice. “Courage… I have nothing but been courageous.” He mumbles over before a flash of light emits from his body. The blinding light of Malchediael shining through him one last time, a spit in the face of that demonic power. A smile on Orris face with that final act, even with all the pain. Proud till the end as his body was torn apart, separated from his soul and dragged into the deepest pits of hell. Evil unleashed upon the world by his failures. The end of a warrior of Courage, the start of something evil.
  7. From the old Ghaestenwald keep in the lands of Haense, Jakob sat. He had heard the news a while ago, yet never gave it much thought besides "What happened, happened." Yet as the young man spends time in the study, reading different books, a quiet sorrow starts to form. Thoughts twirl around, picking up words from different books. An odd feeling. Jakob quietly thinks. About how John came to him, accusing him indirectly of being with Klara behind his back. Something at the time not true, but he couldn't deny his feelings. "He... did not deserve this..." It's all the young man could whisper to himself. Clenching his hair within his hand. "He loved her... he made a mistake... he did not deserve to die for it." With those thoughts, he lets a sigh escape. Taking in a deep breath of air after. Debating what he has said and done. "But I would have killed him if the Koeng told me to do so... and he almost did. I should not judge."
  8. Who is your bestest of friends? (It's me, I won't take another answer)
  9. Jakob Dimitrey Morovar lets a sigh escape reading the letter. Having it witnessed from the start, he simply shakes his head. "John... foolish boy, should have walked off when ea told vy to." Is all he uttered out to himself before tossing the paper away.
  10. Step by step, in armor clad. The elf makes his way through the forest. With each crack of a stick underneath the metal boots, he looks around. Bright the moon shines upon the elf his journey. Mumbling a few soft words as he searches the woods. "By the Creator... did I really travel this far for nothing?" His brows furrow up, unable to locate any of the riddles. Letting a long defeated sigh escape as he sits himself upon a nearby rock. Hand lifted up to his chin, resting his head. So he falls in thought, the night passing into day. And as the sun creeps over the hills, a beam of light lands upon the statue far away. A laugh escapes from the elf, along with a shake of his head. Amused and relieved as his travel did have a reason after all. It was then he took out a book. Going by each statue and riddle on the bright sunny day. Writting them all down before sitting upon that lonely rock again. Starting to solve it one by one. "Rainbow bridge... cats and dogs. How much sugar do you need to survive the winter? Is this even a riddle..." After what felt likes years of thinking, the elf writes down underneath the first riddle his answer. "It is not sugar one needs to survive the winter, it is the warmth of fire. One will not survive the cold on sugar alone." So he carries on to the next. Debating for a moment but for a much shorter time. Writting his answer with a sigh. "The flames caught him off guard. The smell of seared steak was but his cows in the flames. But it was not he who bleeds, or the cows, it was his heart that bled. Bled from the pain of losing all his cows." So he carries on to the third question. Humming lightly, starting to find amusement in the riddles themself and the journey there. "He had not realised it was the the roof that had collapsed and it was the sky he saw. The whisper of the cloud was the wind, blowing into the building with the collapsed roof." Slowly he nods a few times writting down his answers. Looking over each again, satisfied with what it turned into. It was then he wrote down the next riddle along with the answer under it. "The green snake crawls into the house of the nobles. But it was not a literal snake, it was a spy or a revolutionair perhaps. Seeking to shed blood upon the noble cotton, painting it red." Gazing over the lands from his rock, the forlorn lands moving with the wind. A sigh escapes, finally writting down the last riddle and hopefully, the answer. "The horsemen traveled far out to the tavern, returning in the morning after a night of drinking. Carrying barrels of wine." And so, the young scholar makes his way from the rock to the statue. Tucking the notebook underneath one of the rocks. Out of the elements of the world, it remaining there unharmed until one might find it.
  11. Wait people really do this? Damn... guess I die
  12. Idea: what if a CA gets killed by the imbued sword/bound sword/funny return sword, everything turns to shit as usual besides the head? Leaving that basically behind in a puddle of its own rotting remains. Have some fancy light around it like a bubble preserving it after which the templar can go and pick it up.
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