Rayalia

Princess Azruphêl Aranuiriel Arthalion paused in her sketches of the blueprints she'd been crafting for years as a servant delivered the missive to the desk she sat at. A quick once over was gifted unto the paper, and then a proper read, before a rare, proud smile crept up onto her features. The elder cousin carefully tucked Iuliwen's words into a drawer of her desk when she was done, settled amongst other pieces of delight she'd collected over the years of her family's aspirations and accomplishments. This one would be a fond memory to look back upon some day, far in the future; she could feel it. The royal returned, then, to her work, with a quiet order given to the servant and a dismissive wave of the hand.

Azruphêl had rested stoic amidst the delivery of news, had kept a mask of uncaring blankness held during the funeral, had lasted through the day with not a tear shed amidst comforting others through their mourning. She'd not said a word on the matter, she'd not prayed for her cousin nor for any of the others. She'd not batted an eyelash at the memories shared by the people of that newly passed Queen. She offered no condolences to her Uncle, nor to her cousins, nor to the rest of her family. She went about the day in an apathetic glaze. The woman had walked the city thereafter and when night fell, she thread through the kingswood, clambered up the steps of Angrenost, and sat upon the ledge of its tower as the wind chill threatened to cleave feeling from her limbs. She had sat, then, in silence, seeking words that refused to wiggle past her lips despite the desire to spill tales of her cousin to the stars above. The longer they had refused to come, the more her frustrations had built and the bigger the tears had welled in her eyes. She'd never been a good storyteller. A drop of water had fallen onto her cheek, yet the skies above had remained clear. She remembered Noruiel's youth, when Belzagar was still with them; how she had held the both of them in her arms, sought to protect them, aimed to guide them through their troubles, attempted to be a parent in a time when they had none. She recalled how much panic she'd been under when Noruiel had risked herself to seek out Elendur, to bring him back safe from the swamps amidst the attack of a Wyvern, and refused to leave without him. She recollected of when Noruiel had been beside herself over the idea of GOD taking love away from her on a whim, of how she'd clung to Azruphêl as if her cousin would be snatched from existence at the snap of a finger. She reminisced of the laughter she'd shared with her cousin, the pranks, the goofs, gaffs, and games, the jokes, the japes. She fondly thought of when the two had gone on an adventure, chucking Nathan off every low bridge they could find. Her cheeks had grown wet, and not even the eye patch covering that hidden orb could mop them up. It had been she who had been the catalyst in enabling Noruiel and Belzagar to flee to the wilds in their youth - not the cause, no, just the catalyst. Noruiel had long since assured her of that in the time they had reconciled. So much time lost, so many years of believing her cousin to have hated her, of avoiding her for her own sake. Perhaps, she had thought, that if she'd just been better to her cousins, done more for them, maybe not pushed so hard, then just perhaps... Belzagar would not have perished. Maybe, had he been here, he would have been able to keep this from happening. He would have done better when Noruiel had visited, not two months prior to this very day, in helping the woman. She'd tried. Azruphêl had truly tried; to assure Noruiel that so long as she lived, nothing was ever truly lost. She had tried to comfort her, to uplift her, to assure her she wasn't alone. It hadn't been enough, it seemed. The woman spent the night hopping between emotions until she landed upon hoping, finally mourning, praying, for her cousin. For both of them. In the morning after, twin saplings had been planted at the tower's base in their memories, twisting around each other so that one, without the other, could not support itself.

That princess Azruphêl looked upon the missive with the singular eye she now bears, that had been hidden under her eye patch, upon being handed the parchment by a close friend. "What the hell-" comes the offended exclamation, though it comes not at the tale, but rather the inaccuracies. And then, specifically... "I told them I was his niece, the dolts. Like, twice. What the ****." She crumpled the missive into a tight ball to stow away. It would be later that the ball would then be chucked at the Lord Commander's head as he passed. "Get them unseated from their horses and watch out for their arrows. Also, they stole my shield. I want it back. Do you realize how annoying it is to make something so ornate and yet practical at the same time?" @LazyBacon220

She wasn’t always turned away from Nevaehlen’s gates, but when she was, it wasn’t usually with a witch hunt, a wood elf, and a variety of Colborns. It was a bright day, admittedly, despite the quest at hand; a warm one as they rode out for Numendil, continuing on even as they gave up their search after a lengthy investigation of the Aran-în-Eryn. Pleasant, some could say. A pleasant, pleasant day. Until the O’Rourke child spontaneously found the witch. Off they rode once more, this time with an added Numenedain Guard in tow, and the golden haired youth led them far to the outskirts of Petra, into the woods beneath the plateau of jungles above. It didn’t take long for the child’s words to prove correct, for as they entered, the witch mirrored their movements and sought to flee with her captive. It had gone a bit sideways. One of the Colborns had instantly sent a javelin into the witch’s captive - the very kin they were trying to save - in order to pierce the hag behind her. A plan to halt them, failed, for the steed the escapees fled upon continued forth through the forest. “A trade then! Princess for the girl. Drop her and I shall meet you on the top of the mountain, on my word as an Arthalion.” A repeat. An echo of a time past, a time when she herself had been just a girl, trading herself for a duo of youngers at the gates of her home, aiming to keep them safe, to keep from further bloodshed. The royal's form did not stutter this time, however. There was no hesitation. She knew the risks now. She'd been through this before; she would either succeed or fail and die. It didn't scare her like it should. Perhaps that was the scariest part. "A princess? Very well, Azruphêl. Halt your warriors and meet me at mountain's peak. If you do not stop, I'll be gone anyways." There were cries of protest, calls for another javelin. A knowing nod offered, a command made, a request forced. And then, a whisper was given to the youth on the back of her horse. A single whisper to the O'Rourke who had brought them there, who had given them this chance. A single whisper before she was sent on her way. "Éinín, you tell my father what's happened. The moment you're back in the city, you have him reach the top of the mountain." "The deal is not off, girl. I will trade you for her, just not now." Fifteen saint's minutes. that was all it took for the witch to warp the princess and that stolen, dying Colborn away. Fifteen saint's minutes in which the royal had been forced to drop her weapons - all but a singular hidden dagger - and her horse, unable to talk her way into getting the captive released. Time had not on her side. The javelin slowly sought to kill the young Colborn and to risk a new fight would be to condemn the stolen girl. That party left behind had ridden up as promised. They had sought to intercept. A flash of her father was seen- but they were too late. Fifteen saint's minutes was all it took to be portaled back to the place that had once haunted her nightmares for years on end, where this very same situation had once taken place. She'd come out of it absolutely destroyed back then. It would end differently this time. It would. "Heal her." The witch had allowed her to save the Colborn, to wrench the javelin free, to perform surgery with what little tools she had. It wasn't enough to fix her, but it would give time; stabilized for the moment. "Why risk yourself for her? A stranger?" Why indeed? The royal had hidden a pause, a jolt of surprise. Why had she? Maybe it was the lack of self worth she bore: for surely, this stranger held so much more promise that what she herself had thrown away with her mistakes. Everyone did. All but the evil ilk that walked the world, just beneath her. Maybe it was the values she'd been ingrained with as a small child by all around her; that she was a princess, that she needed to protect and guide her family's people, that she was there to serve just as much as command, to take responsibility for the small folk. To care. Maybe she just didn't care anymore, about much at all - that thrills like this was the only thing that made her stop and think these days. She didn't know. And so, like with all her answers, she offers solely an avoidant answer. "I shall not answer any queries until you keep good on your word, as I have mine." "I'm not going to harm her. And I will send her back. I want you to see what I've done." She fought not to cringe back at the sight, though it certainly wasn't the worst thing she'd ever seen before. No, many things had topped it. And yet- the unnatural, undoubtedly painful looking scales peppering a set of claws and hooked fingers made her pause. "... Well done. You've twisted her arm. And so?" "I healed her! It covered her, head to toe. The gifts I give are far more... hidden." She knew. Oh, how she knew. Gifts. What a wretched thought. They weren't gifts. Spending a year and then some, haunted by hellish visions, by whispers of that infernal language, all in her sleep, disallowing any proper rest, debilitating the waking world with exhaustion- no. that was no gift. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. "I've kept my word, girl. I told you I would send her, and I would. I simply wanted to show you that I'm not so cruel." She'd read the Witch's prior missives. She'd known the woman's prior actions. It didn't add up. Then again, it never did when dealing with broken minds. The Colborn had gotten sent through a new portal, straight to Númenost; stable, given a chance to survive, to live. The Númenedain would find her, heal her. The royal had faith in that. And then- there had been a clamor. A raiding party had found them. Her father. Her friends. Her home. There's a brief relief - until it becomes evident that they can't get to her. "I won't gift you anything this time. Though perhaps it can be your turn to gift me. Why do I do as I do. If I told you, you would not believe me anyway. Why waste my breath? You have lived a life of wealth, love, unity. What I do... why I do it... even if I told you, you would never understand." Oh how that witch was wrong. Wealth, love, unity. Those had not been without hardships - there had not been times in which she felt she had none. The calls of those above ripped her of such thoughts, however, returned her to recalling the Witch's prior misdeeds. She felt no hesitation. No remorse. She had a vow to uphold and a debt to repay. There was a fight. A one on one. An eye was taken from the witch. A royal's hand was seared with malflame. And then there was a rescue. [!] Within the Kingswood is a single sheet of paper posted, upon the middle-most tree along the winding path towards Númenost: To Cordelia, the Cawing Crow: I greatly enjoyed our little chat. You should practice not being a hypocrite though. A shame it got interrupted. Let's duel proper next time, my blade against your magic. I owe you for the burnt hand. I'll be sure to make good on my words, just as I always have. I'll expect you to do the same. P.S These woods still aren't yours. Get better at being evil, I guess.

The Hummingbird Druid glances over the missive with a pleased expression, a breath of relief whooshing out of her. "'S nice t' know 'm ne th' only one tha' finds this an abuse of th' gifts." She resigns to doing more work in the Canonist states, in an attempt to repair druidic reputation once again.

[!] An unsigned attachment can be seen added to a small few of the missives, writ in purple crayon. It reads: Excerpts taken From THE CATECHISM OF THE CANONIST CHURCH, as authored by CARDINAL FABIAN, Imprimatur ST. HIGH PONTIFF SIXTUS IV. Page 32: "The whole universe was created by God, while the various lands and creatures were shaped by Aenguls and Daemons at His instruction." Page 35: "Aenguls and Daemons created animals and plants, God personally created the first man and woman, who bore the Four Brothers."

Azruphêl reaches up, scrubbing at the brand, the marring, the tattoo printed on the side of her face, encircling half of her eye. Despite the bags beneath, adorning her countenance with additional hues of purple, a small twitch of determination shows; that witch's head would be hers, if not for the goddamned insomnia and nightmares and branding and- ... well. The woods weren't the witch's. It was a matter of pride now. Pride for her family and the safety of the people her family had always led, had always protected, the people she had once actively sought to stand beside.

The Hummingbird Druid takes one look at the missive and latches on to the phrase 'the CREATORS'. She points, laughs, and exclaims, "Tha' Canonist donnae e'en know how t' Canonist right! HAH!"

I have been beaten to the point by @Jaslaw, whOOps x'D

I'd actually make a sprite CA with this lore. Shenanigans must be had. Someone hold me accountable to this statement if it passes.

TREATY OF THE RIVER ZAFIRA Issued 18th of the Sun’s Smile, in the Year 207 of the Second Age With the signing and promulgation of this document, the Exilic Kingdom of Númendil and the Sovereign State of Hyspia, henceforth referred to as ‘the signatories’, do agree on their honor to the terms laid forth hereafter. ARTICLE I: Sovereignty The signatories mutually recognize the other as the sole sovereign state over their respective lands, and all titles affiliated with their respective styling. ARTICLE II: Non-Aggression The signatories agree in the absolute to a pact of non-aggression. There shall be no military conflict between either state, nor between their constituent vassals or noble Houses. Any breaches of this term shall be resolved through the appropriate diplomatic channels. ARTICLE III: Trade The signatories shall, pursuant to mutual benefit, commit to free trade, and shall permit merchants from either nation travel and trade free from tariff or harassment. ARTICLE IV: Cultural Exchange The signatories shall, pursuant to cooperation and camaraderie, exchange knowledge, books, gifts, and make efforts to jointly arrange festivals and cultural affairs. Additionally, the signatories shall stay in contact with each others’ courts to promote continued friendship between their two peoples. ARTICLE VII: Duration This treaty shall remain in effect for the duration of 12 years, in which at its conclusion, this agreement will be open to renewal or renegotiation. IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this agreement as of the day and year first above written. Signed, HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Tar-Caraneth Aryantë of the House Arthalionath, by the Grace of GOD, Queen of the Númenedain, Princess of Númenost and Minas Amath, Protector of the Adunians, Master of the Sharadûn, Templar Justiciar of the Archangel Michael, and Knight of the Realm HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Azruphêl Corweth Aranuiriel of the House Arthalionath, Princess of Númenost HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Lôminzil Carnagar Aranuiriel of the House Arthalionath, Princess of Númenost HER SERENE HIGHNESS, Xiomara I, Sovereign of Hyspia, Duchess of Pacazu, Viscountess of Banderas, Baroness of Arenisca, Del’mar, Monterro, Campagnon and Sevilla, Lady of La Dorada, Lady of Niseep, Gereon’s Hold and Ciudad de Plata, Protector of the Hyspian People, Protector of the Farfolk, Matriarch of House de Pelear, etcetera. HIS SERENE HIGHNESS, Ser Julian I, Sovereign of Hyspia, Duke of Pacazu, Viscount of Banderas, Baron of Arenisca, Del’mar, Monterro, Campagnon and Sevilla, Lord of La Dorada, Lord of Niseep, Gereon’s Hold and Ciudad de Plata, Protector of the Hyspian People, Protector of the Farfolk, Patriarch of House de Pelear, etcetera. HIS EXCELLENCY, Tomas Salazar Embajdor de Hyspia, Representante of House Salazar

Princess Azruphêl Corweth Aranuiriel Arthalion reads the formal invitation after a long day of hunting and her usual dower demeanor appears to brighten some. Without hesitation, she calls out to the room beside; "Lôminzil! Gather the best of the Corgis! I am going to harvest the chocolates. We have gifts to prepare!"

Fair enough and entirely valid! I've simply seen Transcendence Aesthetics RPed in a multitude of ways, not all in line with each other - mainly the idea that Kuila Crystals and feathers and other such bits and bobs can be plucked and used/given to other people from the druid themselves, as (and correct me if I'm wrong) the lore doesn't explicitly state what you have right there. I know of many people who have assumed that outside of combat, they're solid and removable for fluff and event rp, which is the main (starting) reason why I attempted this amendment. On the other hand, I wasn't even thinking about Kani when I wrote this up and truth be told, I'm not aware of how that specific magic works, so @MayRndzand @DistantCryptidhave solid points, too. I'm going to leave this amendment up just to see where it goes and give the opportunity for other thoughts and ideas in the comments!

I'd arguably say it would cause more issues than needed if allowed in combat. I can see it being fine in every other scenario for flavor roleplay or events however. That is one of the redlines that could easily be set to a "only allowed during events at ET's discretion, otherwise unable to be used in CRP", or just a plain, "cannot be used in crp", so I put a shot in the dark with adding it as it is. If the rest of the amendment is accepted sans this, it's an easy fix to take out and can be done in a redline deletion.

Original Lore: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/225732-%E2%9C%93-%C2%A0druidismfeat-druidic-transcendence/ Purpose: “With the bond of the Druid’s soul fully attuned to that of the Fae Realm, their body and mind now have completed its transformation to reflect that of their spirit’s true nature. Physical alterations now begin to be fully seen, ranging from skin, eye, and hair changing by colors, appearances, and developing Fae/Flora/Animal like qualities.” Druidic Transcendence states that the druid’s mind and body are affected, however, in the current write of the lore, the physical changes aren’t physical but rather spiritual; made as projections as seen in their changes during CRP, and unable to be separated from the druid outside of it. Therefore, only the mind and spirit of the druid is affected by this and not the body, as the lore contradicts. This amendment seeks to rectify that and provide Transcendent Druids an extra niche to rp with. During writing, the redlines to Naztherak: Zar’ei’s physical forms has been consulted to ensure that these suggested changes may be possible and in line with the server’s RP standards, as well as other fae lores to ensure the amendments are balanced to the best of my current ability. Links to said fae lores can be seen at the bottom of the transcendence lore page. Other Relevant Lore: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/196107-%E2%9C%93-ca-creature-non-playable-creature-lore-naztherak-the-infernal-compendium/ https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/192362-%E2%9C%93-world-lore-kuila-living-crystals/ Original Lore: Amendments:

[!] Plastered across notice boards throughout Nevaehlen and the Watcher’s Roost is a short missive: Do not enter the lands of the Exilic Kingdom of Númendil. Any presence within the home of the Templar Adunians will be met with hostility and death. Despite this threat, do not hold hate. Do not meet their aggression in kind. Love them as one does a distant neighbor, for once they were friends. Respect them as descendants, for they too have their own souls. But stray from their peoples, their forests, and encounters across the continent if able, for both your own safety, and that of your kin. Aspects Guide, Sister Hummingbird

A colorfully dressed druid wakes with a start, sweat coating her brow despite the cool breezes of a sea's coasts. For a while, she would lay there, simply allowing the shudders in her form to cease... ... and then up she sits, rushing to collect a few meager things, and with a half prepared bag, she hastens herself to the Isle. It would be there that, for the unforeseen future, she would return to each night with shaking hands, unwilling to allow a day to go by in which her gaze does not cast itself watchful upon the jungles of Aevos.

I highly appreciate how clear cut this was written. Very easy to understand!

Hummingbird's head dully thumps into the nearest wall upon seeing the missive. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk-

Having been working with terrain for the past 3 months, mossy blocks and their variants, as well as regular wood - if not also stripped - are the top blocks I would deem needing a change in pricing to the low, low price of free. I’m a high fantasy aesthetic gal and with half the server existing in forest and plains biomes, the majority of blocks used are natural. Creating forests and caves that look and feel like they’re part of a narrative rather than just letting vanilla minecraft do its thing (sapling, bonemeal, insta tree for less the cost) is a huge necessity. All variants of flowers and stripped woods are a close second in needing to be free. Anything IRL that would require a craftsman to work with so that it can be used (polished stone types but not the base blocks, planks, stairs, trapdoors and so forth) should remain needing payment.

Might be a little off topic but I'd personally love to see instant name changes be allowed for all VIP tiers, if not the whole server. It would be immensely helpful for being able to do player run events, not to mention for characters themselves when they go "undercover" for an hour or two, or switch forms, such as in Naztherak lore or druidic shapeshifting. 100 USD just for a name change ability (and instant slot switching) seems absurd; It would be nice to either add more rewards or replace the current ones with better upgrades. Aside, more chat colors is an amazing idea. I'm super hyped for what tech team has in store.

"Zeke-?" Phaedra had not given him a hug when he'd asked for it. Not a real one. It was a half-assed embrace, one that read of her annoyance at the situation, her aggravation of his stubbornness. As much as she'd hoped her cold demeanor would deter him from wheeling off into battle, it didn't. As much as she'd hoped her shitty attitude towards him that day would get him to reconsider, it didn't. She'd come to regret that in the hours, weeks, months and years following. Her regret wouldn't bring him back. She hadn't gone into the portal after they had made a mess of the distraction. She was the only one. Perhaps if she'd been stronger, kept a better eye on him, forced him to return to the city with her, he'd have lived. The what-if's linger as long as the regret does. "Why isnae anyone doin' anythin'-?!" She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. She hadn't gotten to apologize. One moment, he was laying on the bench with shuddered breaths, the next, completely gone by the hands of those near. It would take a few hours for the shock to wear off, to fully understand what had just happened. Then the boy's last words come to her in the form of a letter and the guilt increases ten-fold. She'd never called him her brother, not out loud, but there was some part of her that had always felt protective of him, that had found his strange quirks endearing. Any annoyances were tolerable and, really, isn't that what younger siblings do? Annoy the hell out of you, then wiggle their way back into your heart the moment after. The thought tears her up from the inside out. She tries with utter desperation to write down her memories of him, to immortalize his image to stave off the inevitable, but all that strikes the pages of her journal are tears. She never gets more than a few trembling letters written before the rivulets soak the page, time and time again, until finally, it hurts too much to keep trying. Her weakness, however, rips her apart perhaps most of all, for she had nothing else to remember him by; just her memories and the emotions connected. And a promise. A single promise. She wouldn't die until his death gets avenged. In the years following, for however long the druid has, Phaedra would cling to her fading memories of him. Time works against her condition, seeking to erase him from her thoughts, just like it always had her parents, her other family members, her friends, her achievements, her failures, over and over and over again. It would take decades, but, eventually, it would be as if the boy had never existed in her life. And yet... And yet... For the rest of her time in the mortal realm, there would not be a single game of dice gone by that a small pang of loss would not find her, as if something was sorely missing. She would not know why such a wave of emotion would wash over, but it would come without fail. Perhaps it would be brushed off, but it would return in full force the very next game. When she wins, the urge to turn and tease the ghost of a memory would steal her breath away. And with loss? Well... That loss would always come with a small sense of an older sibling's pride.

I think that's kind of the point @Wizryis getting at: for a lot of treelords, this doubling down makes it feel like there will be no where left for the treelord to go - no growth, no change, nothing. If this part of the rewrite passes, they will turn into event-esque CAs, much like necromancers have become. Their story caps where their mind just constantly chants "naturebalancenaturebalance-". You might say that's an exaggeration but obsessions are, indeed, all encompassing. I don't see how this matters if someone has read the lore and is making a genuine attempt to understand it. As a druid player, please, don't gatekeep. Lore is meant to be enjoyed by all. On top of that, Wizry rps with druid players every day, including treelords, as do I. We can have differing views on the rewrite. I've said all I need to say about my opinions, offered @MayRndz my ideas, helped a few people figure out a way to say their ideas on the matter in a cohesive way. You're free to disagree. o7

I don’t think anyone’s really misunderstanding the lore rewrite as a whole - we’re just offering constructive criticism. A lot of people are fine with the mentality changes, others know how it’ll entirely flip what their treelords have been working towards for irl years in the mental department. If this goes through, it’ll be a big change for how people rp their CAs. @Wizryand @bloomtiarahave valid points, as do many others who have commented. No, it’s not right for treelords to not have mental changes, but from the people I rp with that have the CAs, I can most definitely say they ARE playing their lords with mental problems affect by their change. A new forced mentality (and the way it’s written here, it is implied if not outright saying it’s enforced) isn’t needed and will heavily affect current lord rp.

Half the new spells are directly related to fae-type magic, or are near replicas of transcendent magic. The lack of soul in the literal soul tree is basically just what an epiphyte is, sans the influence of an actual fae. The original lore's intent is to give druii a stronger body so that they don't have to worry about death via illness or old age, not to make them more fae like. That's what transcendence is for. That's just my opinion. I actually quite like the other spells. Like I said; I'm neutral on this rewrite, I like some of it but the other half doesn't make sense to me.