Adstrom

Enoch the Enduring starts counting his coins and stacking his bread so that he might perhaps one day also acquire a fancy poster.

at the end of the day.. I guess you could say… it really did matta

A reluctant aspiring half beast-tamer half strong-man practices lifting lions!

"PREPOSTEROUS!” The so-called ‘BRUTAL BARON’ exclaims from his throne as a DISTRUGEBOT reads the missive aloud to him. The iron caricature of an angered emperor, cloaked in green. His chalice of gold and gemstones is hurled against the wall. What remains would never again dare to hold wine. Thunder crashes, and legions of strange machines begin to gather in the halls of cold stone. “We must parley with these imprudent constructs at once. They do not yet know brutality, but I assure you, I will teach them!”

"Thank the Skies she did not make me play that damned tambourine." Enoch mused to himself, having departed from the palace rather briskly once the bard's performance had concluded. To him, there was little merit to be found there elsewise. It seemed he was right, in the end.

TO THE RANGER, My name is Enoch. There is little to that name but what I have seen. A stray woodsman who knows how to live from wild to wild. With experience, the title of a survivalist, and a fighter. With desperation, a sufficient explorer and an amateur naturalist. I am efficient with the weapons of the knightly and the arms of the holy, though I will not use them as other men claim to tell or scramble to command. I wish to give the forsaken the reprieve they deserve, by the only means they know. Written through steel and fire and delivered through prayer to peace. The monsters of this world deserve rest, one way or the next. ENOCH

“The snow breaks for machines of faultless design. Iron sabatons assail the fresh stone. Steel hands illuminate dark chambers for the first time. The Baron lays claim to his fated throne.” - DISTRUGEBOT, DESIGNATION: [DISTRUGESPEARE] FROM THE ICY LABORATORIES OF DISTRUGESTADT, I, BARON DISTRUGERE, write to you with triumph. To the great relief of my many machine architects and laborers, the final rock is now in place, and my fortress is complete. DISTRUGESTADT, my great castle of clockwork. It looms steadfast against the northern ice, providing sanctuary to all who study in science or in steel and to all whose faux blood glows of luminescent green. Long have I waited for this moment. In time, the frigid howling of cold wind shall be replaced by the melodious rhythm of whirring cogs and rising smog. A great celebratory feast is to be held, prepared by the one and only STEFAN EULER, the finest cook in all of Aevos and beyond. As with all things done by DISTRUGERE, do not come foolishly believing the event to be any bore of mundane tedium. Invitations are cast to any who might find my fortress, for the gates shall never be abandoned. Machine gatekeepers need not dream, not even of clockwork sheep. Should one desire audience with DISTRUGERE, this shall be your greatest chance. If you seek me, look to the mountains of the Ailmere, where the great lake borders and rear rivers of Haense divulge. Travelers be warned, for evil things brew beneath the thick layers of ice. But fear not, weary wayfarer of the North, for the DISTRUGEBOT delivers safety through stalwart steel. My DISTRUGEBOTS shall greet all guests, and all shall be welcomed in good minded faith. Special invitations are to be sent to the members of the MIDNIGHT SUN, dispersed throughout the realm. SIGNED,

If you're wanting to play a mechanic / machine related character, you might be interested in playing a clockwork construct! They are, as one might expect, entirely oriented around that kind of niche. I am currently heading a group of them, so if that sounds like something you might enjoy, feel free to dm me on discord for more details! [spaceoddlty]

She blood on my magic till I benleft

REPORT OF THE EXPLORATION CORPS EXPEDITION INTO THE WARREN OF CROWN AND COMPASS IN THE YEAR 147 S.A. A charcoal illustration of the Aedui chief meditating before a great tree. BY THE IRON BARON, VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE, OF DISTRUGESTADT, UNDER THE NORTHERN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. The expedition began close to Chambery’s own port, a mere handful of furlongs from the back gate of Petra. It was there, by the great cliffs of the looming memory tree, that the warrior chieftain and our source of information Averemix was found meditating amidst an overlook. Though I shall not spend much time to dwell on the many insights given to us by Averemix of his culture and the indigenous tribes of the Aedui and Godwini, that information was transcribed efficiently by the good gnome Merfizannib Miminendilpigglegeggle, for any whom would wish to observe it. What I shall instead focus my attention upon is the relic gifted to us by the warrior chieftain himself and the discoveries which it led to. A small metallic bowl, or so he had claimed, which we soon discovered thereafter was a compass from which the needle had been crudely extracted long ago. Thankfully, due to the diligence of Signora Elizabeth Brae, the leader of such an expedition, we were able to swiftly repair it with a new indicator, sacrificed solemnly by her own personally issued NGS exploratory apparatus. A recreation of the compass. At once, granted new life, the metallic pointer whirled Eastward, instead of North. Immediately we detected that it was indeed altered, leading to some place of mystery rather than true directional attunement. Naturally, we set off to follow its whims in accordance. After a long trek through the plains of the East and its many kingdoms of man, we came to a stop at a large decrepit chapel of stone. Within it, there was a series of renowned religious busts, in addition to inscriptions of faded Flexio. I made attempts to translate them, but time was not on my side. Were I to guess with what I now know of the dangers within, I would make an educated assumption that it warns something akin to the following: HIC IACET CAPTIONEM, HERE LIES TRAPS. 𝄞 A sketch of the explorers entering the labyrinth. These words guarded a narrow tunnel downward into what we soon discovered to be a rather tricky labyrinth, forgotten to all but us at that moment. As explorers do, we wasted little time before treading forth into that great expanse of the unknown. Like figures of folklore, we used a coil of rope and the light of a torch to guide our way through the maze, much to little avail. For what felt like hours we wandered and roamed in circles, desperately seeking the slightest change in jagged rock that might denote something further awaiting beyond. It was most certainly a perilous place, designed to best an amateur adventurer. Fortunately, none in attendance were burdened with such inadequacy. I personally located a dim source of light and made the decision to rappel into it with caution. Buried below a deep alluring canyon of possibility, I descended by rope, only to discover a glistening stalagmite spiked and ready at the bottom to impale a lesser man. DISTRUGERE knows of no such fate and made swift return to safe ground. Following this, and much more time lost, I happened upon a low passageway where a large chasm awaited on the other side. It was bordered by rigid columns of crumbling foundation and bore two in the center of the gap where one would need to navigate with great displays of athleticism and care in traveling from one side to the other. Calling the others to me, I made the preparations to do so. 𝄞 A Distrugebot’s rendition of the Baron surveying the chasm. Of course, DISTRUGERE was up to the task. I cleared the gap with ease, and Signora Brae used her arcanic prowess to join me soon in the wake, maintaining her magic for a swift escape should it become necessary. Before us there was a large chest, its hinges rusted with age and wear. However, as always, I had come with all the possibilities formulated. Taking a large pouch, I filled its brim with loose rock and gravel nearby, readying it in hand to make a swift swap, lest a rigged trap be sprung. With practiced precision and brevity I heaved the compartment open, claimed what was within, and replaced it with the sack. Silence followed, for it had worked. I leapt back across, and Signora Brae blinked through the Void. What I had seized was a pair of keys. Both were rusted, one beyond recognition. I resolved to repair the broken tool in my spare time and transferred the usable one to Elizabeth for safekeeping. A recreation of the key. We were further plagued by a watery dead man’s end that Merf was brave enough to dive into, though it resulted in little save the loss of breath and the dampening of good garments. Determining that we had conquered all there was to see here, we returned to the surface to plot out our next move. It was then that another lead was remembered, of the position of an ancient barrow belonging to the Godwini on the outskirts of Aaun. This is what had spurred our expedition altogether, and where it would find its end. Hours passed as we traversed into the Valley of Kings, a tranquil meadow embedded in betwixt a cascading volley of rolling ridges. Barrows surrounded us on all sides, nestled amidst the crooks of the mountains. Many were empty, some were not, but we explored each that was found. An etching of the Valley. Of the tombs that were discovered, only one is worth mentioning - though it has earned that right greatly. In the final catacomb we searched, a locked sarcophagus of wood fit the rusted key we had claimed. Within, it had concealed an entombed ruler, a skeleton most grandiose. To our surprise, a withered relic devised of sapphires, gold, and pearls rested atop the skull, which was soon realized to belong to the Once-King Alwyn of Aaun, the Mer-King, son of Horen II. This brought about a conclusion to our endeavors for the day. Having achieved much, the explorers and I returned to the Port for celebration. There have since been talks with the people of Aaun, so that the crown might be laid to display in its home, where it belongs: within a museum. A recreation of the crown, with splashes of dye. THE IRON BARON, VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE

A rendition of what would be DISTRUGESTADT, looming steadfast against the North. ♫ The march of machinery grows, and smog hisses against the frigid air. Metal hands and iron architects lay stones against the framework of a fortress that climbs high toward the sky and cuts deep into the earth. A chilled wind carries the sound of clockwork throughout the mountaintops. FROM THE LABORATORIES OF VON DISTRUGERE INDUSTRIES, I, BARON DISTRUGERE, write to you. The time is nearing rapidly, for the final walls are being set into place. Through great unending torment, I have triumphed, and now I alone oversee the assembly of my stronghold. But I am not in solitude. With every new dawning day, more machines awaken, and more flock to our cause. The Midnight Sun rises, and soon it may shed its light on the world. Once more, an invitation is cast to those driven by ambitions unknown. A call to the scientists of Aevos, to the researchers, to the mad. But above all, a final summons to the automata who walk this plane. If it is purpose which you lack, come to me, and you will be gifted it. If it is isolation that plagues you, find me, and it will be broken. By that same token, all who would oppose DISTRUGERE are likewise invited to venture to my halls when they fall complete, so their grievances might be heard. For the IRON BARON is compassionate, and he does not know fear; though it does know him dearly. SIGNED, VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE, THE IRON BARON, SOVEREIGN OF DISTRUGESTADT ♫ In a chamber beneath the ice, works of cog and gear gather. They chant a strange hymn, a foreign code devised from their master. -- 01000001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01001111 01100010 01100101 01111001 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01001001 01110010 01101111 01101110 00100000 01000010 01100001 01110010 01101111 01101110 01000001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01001111 01100010 01100101 01111001 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01001001 01110010 01101111 01101110 00100000 01000010 01100001 01110010 01101111 01101110 -- A new machine awakens, the final lieutenant. It is given a single command. [ENABLE DIRECTIVE: (ASPETTARE/VEGLIARE )]

MC Name: Adstrom Discord: adstrom Image: Description of Image: The Baron, gesturing towards DISTRUGESTADT. Dimensions: 1x1

DISTRUGESTADT Harbor of Machine, Magi, and The Mad Lair PRO MC Name: Adstrom Lair PRO Character Name: The Iron Baron Vincente von Distrugere Lair Name: DISTRUGESTADT Lair Members: Adstrom, Balmakka, Benleft, RoamingRonin, AndrewTech, Proddino, Marsloll, Glassyskies, TheGreasyChef, and GajaTheMessiah Proposed Lair Locations (Highlight/draw at least three on the map): Lair Lore (supply link to an existing creature or other lore if being used as basis for this lair) (1000 words minimum): [!] In a nameless and dim library somewhere, somewhen, a Distrugebot begins to tell a tale to listening ears unknown. THE BOOKS OF DISTRUGERE [Told from an in-roleplay perspective, NO META!] The Beginnings of Vincente To understand DISTRUGESTADT, one must first understand Distrugere. An aspiration that can, at times, become most difficult. The man who calls himself the Baron was not always so. There was a time when an aspiring blacksmith desired little in life but the cinders produced when hammers struck hot steel. That was until the art of alchemy, amongst other things, drew his interest. Upon the apex of his teachings, he suffered a fatal error incurred at his own hand. This would forever alter the trajectory of his destiny entirely, or so Vincente believed. The Visions of Fate and Hauntings of the Alchemist Now blinded by his vainglory in more ways than one, Vincente transformed into the eccentric persona that would come to define him. He spent many sleepless nights recovering from his near-fatal tragedy, but this would not last forever. When he was able to sleep again, he began to suffer strange hallucinogenic dreams of grandeur, omens, and prophecies presented by figures of his past. Of course they were nonsense, derived from close proximity to mind-altering herbs most certainly; but he believed them, and that was enough. They called him to reform himself, to take his fate into his own hands, to enwreathe himself in metal and become DISTRUGERE. And though he did as his dreams told, this did not sate the strange sirens of his sleep, for as his exploits grew and his abilities furthered, they only became more ravenous to haunt his mind. Cleansed free of prediction, his interest in Alchemy had left him plagued by the potionmaker’s toil. Material sigils and otherworldly runes danced in cruel orchestra amongst his thoughts. He became possessed with unearthly delusions, ever-pursuing artifacts, great discoveries of alchemy, and secrets of esoterica that simply were not to be found. They started to drive him mad, and Distrugere realized that this thirst and subsequent search for powers unknown to the world could not be exclusive to him alone, nor could it be achieved by his lonesome either. The Hiram King and Consequence Thus, a coalition was formed. It was composed of a handful of idiosyncratic individuals, each as driven and unusual as the soon-to-be Baron himself. They sourced their operations out of a casino in Celia’nor, entitled ‘The Hiram King’. It was here that the mental framework for DISTRUGESTADT found its first footing. Research of the scientific arts and studies of all things magical were combined, and curiosities followed to odd ends. Together they pursued their incongruous endeavors, chasing after endless arrays of arcanic ‘skeletons in cupboards’. But with their actions rooted in oversight from external eyes in whichever nation they traveled to, they found much complexity in bringing their intentions to fruition. This led to Distrugere developing a much greater ambition of his own. He recognized that if one was to remove their political ties, affiliations, and beliefs, and then act independently of them, much could be achieved in unrestricted cooperation. Without the confining purview of a city-state or sprawling government, research and study could be had without hesitation and hurdles. Furthermore, he realized that the pleasantries and workings of humanity were fickle. To find true dedication, like his own, he would need to construct his own assistants - his own soldiers. So, as the Hiram King faded to dilapidation and his companions all dispersed, Distrugere resolved to bring these newfound possibilities to reality. Redefining himself under the faux title of BARON, he set to preparing for what was to come. It began with the gathering of resources, as all of Distrugere’s time was sacrificed within the confines of a ramshackle laboratory in the dark. Here, he began to assemble a legion of metallic automata. If he was to remain steadfast to the impartiality which he believed to be a necessity and the resolve he knew was required to meet his ends, it would require soulless soldiers of steel; DISTRUGEBOTS, as they came to be named. With his clockwork robots in tow, he began to traverse the new land of Aevos, mapping the terrain and searching for the location where he would construct this ideal fortress. After many months of unending hunt, a snowy clearing in the far North was found. It was desolate, eerily private, and the view of the body of water nearby was captivating. It was safe to assume that the cold was favored. So it was then that deep upon the frozen peaks of the Ailmere cliffs, the first stone of Distrugestadt was laid by the hand of the Baron. The Rising of the Midnight Sun That first evening, while camped out within the overlook that he intended to make his home, the Baron observed something that inspired him deeply and cemented his decision to select the region. Naturally, when the sun set against the Northern ice, it bathed the snowdrift in resplendent golden beams. This wondrous environmental display enticed Distrugere, and he strangely entitled it the Midnight Sun; a name which would soon be translated to refer to the collective members of Distrugestadt as a whole. With his place chosen and his architects already built, Distrugere set to work immediately. A volley of Distrugebots were assigned to the task, and the whole lot of them were relocated to the mountaintop - in addition to all of the Baron’s goods and resources. For long months they toiled in the snowcaps, establishing their castle in the cold. It came from nothing save stone, sweat, and steel. And when it was completed, it was a grandiose thing. But there was still work to do. Distrugere immediately began to draft a series of tenets to be followed by those within its halls. They ranged from enforcing principles of neutrality, to even dissuading violence. The will and judgment of the Distrugebot was absolute, and it was to be followed. The Baron was sure that with these measures in place, his fortress could realize its potential: to be a haven to those who practice the pure arts, whether magical, alchemical, academic, or beyond. The gates of Distrugestadt would welcome all, even madmen and machines. But it was also more presently a place where Distrugere could continue to strengthen his army. Robots are built to build more robots, formulating an endless cycle of creation and therein power. The Baron believed firmly that he and his machines had crafted the finest laboratory in the realm, and he was committed to giving it the greatest of uses. The plan was set. He would spread the word of it, now complete, and he only hoped that the wise minds of the world would converge. It was only a matter of time now, he surely thought, until his infinite pursuits of the ever-escaping unfathomable would be at their culmination. It was almost perceived as an inevitability, with the cooperation of the many, resolved and facilitated in an atmosphere where their odd aspirations were nothing but stoked - not unlike the coals of the many hearths that dotted the halls. And below those hallowed halls, a clockwork army would brew in silent preparation for the Baron’s more sinister interests. And so, with everything finally in order, the Baron ascended to a high peak to observe the whole of his creation. He could not withhold his pride, his astonishment, or his fervor. Both arms shot out, reaching high into the unforgiving skies of the dark. To him, it was a spectacular thing. Decades of tribulation and effort finally coalesced into a tangible close, all of his endeavors were made worthwhile, and all of his sacrifices washed clean. A new beginning. He was Vincente von Distrugere, and he had bared his grand ambitions to the world. [!] The book is closed, and the Distrugebot’s tale is concluded. Lair Build and Infrastructure (photos required, give dimensions): Why can this group not fulfill their roleplay niche in an existing settlement or nation? (Give a detailed answer and examples of how this has not worked in the past.): Distrugere is extraordinarily eccentric, and often operates under atypical means with rather shadowy motivation; a mad scientist, absorbed and beyond obsessed with his work, who believes that the entire world would be better off under his jurisdiction. This is an archetype that is inherently bound to clash when presented within the setting of any nation, merely by nature. Above all, Distrugere values the art of the tinkerer and his crafts of the machine. The true heart of Distrugestadt will be that it is in essence, a fortress of ever-moving parts. With all its true inhabitants besides Distrugere being machine, it will become a hub for automatons of all kinds, though dominated primarily by the Distrugebots, who are commanded solely by the Baron himself. This sort of machine army is something that is merely impossible to achieve without division from the barriers of a nation. An attempt to formulate a band of objective robotic ‘soldiers’ who do not answer to any political power would most certainly be met in a negative light in these settings. Distrugestadt serves as a recruiting ground as well, as one of its primary motivations will be to continue the unending growth and construction of machines, building the perfect, emotionless army. The underlying motivations behind these steel warriors may not always fall into line with a nation's overall interests, creating a stark area of conflict - especially since they answer only to Distrugere, who may very well one day turn them upon the world in conquest. How does this lair add to the greater world around it? How will its existence benefit its roleplay group and the server at-large?: The main purpose of Distrugestadt is to garner two specific kinds of roleplay, in which cooperation from a community is central to its success and survival. The first of which is of course the expansion of the automaton playerbase. It is at its core a lair filled with robots, where animii and smoggers will be practiced in full at all times, dictated by Distrugere to all kinds of aberrant plans. Built for the precise purpose of roaming the castle grounds, the chambers and laboratories of Distrugestadt are to be guarded and lived in by these machines. The entire roleplay environment will be constructed around them, and with them in mind. Fundamentally, the automatons will be created to uphold order among researchers, facilitate all studies conducted within the halls, create more automatons, and carry out work of their own to more secretive extents ordered by the Baron himself. Essentially, it is inviting the chance to carve out a largely automaton-based environment, offering that piece of lore the foundation it needs to flourish with purpose at a larger scale than found anywhere presently on the server. While the castle may be far away in the North, its gates will be open to any who desire to find them. I have found that typically lairs are created with the purpose of constricting a niche from prying eyes, but I intend to do the opposite of this, instead creating a focal hub where many niches can clash and find unique interaction together. A place where many practitioners of various feats and magics can come together to study, share their work, and commune in harmony - for better, or for worse - so long as Distrugere and his robots approve of them. Furthermore, it is by no means intended to be a “teaching institution”, however, animii especially will certainly find intentional growth as more and more automatons are made and taught the art which created them. In addition, the organic flow of these coordinated efforts between players will with no doubt craft an avenue where the spreading of the arts is invited to be natural; an ideal that is, in my opinion, innately beneficial to the health of the server.

DJ DISTRUGERE prepares his newly developed ANIMII MUSICAL SYMPOSIUM machine, outfitted with the newest hit tracks such as: MF DISTRUGEBOT - ONE BLOCK MF DISTRUGEBOT ft King Konst - WIZARD SNITCH KNISHES Laszlo and the Eulers - Will 'O on the Water Roland Legrand and the Hiram Kings - Gamblin' Man AND MORE!

MC Name: Adstrom Discord: adstrom Image: Description of Image: A landscape painting of DISTRUGESTADT. Dimensions: 2 x 1

An old one-eyed man peered out from his empty fortress. He had known many, but there were not many left to know. He was not privy to the transpiring of the dead, for how could he be? But he did feel sorrow the first time he watched. "I gazed a gazeless stare..." The gray Hawk began to hum to himself.

How would you like to play a robot...

MC Name: Adstrom Discord: adstrom Image: Description of Image: The Baron von Distrugere, seated upon his soon-to-be throne. Dimensions: 1 x 2

+ Summons of Steel to Snow + [!] Far in the North, an assembly line stirs deep within the mountain peaks. The cruel clattering of cold steel, the whirring of crude clockwork cogs, and the cacophonic hissing of steams and other strange substances reverberated across the ice of the Ailmere. It is operated by THE BARON and an eclectic assortment of other machine assistants. Plates are fitted against metallic skeletal frameworks, while vile green oils are manufactured en masse. Distrugere is preparing for something grand. Amidst this, a missive is spread throughout the land, delivered by mechanical wings. TO THE MACHINES OF AEVOS, Have you found yourself alone? Ostracized, by the commonfolk - merely because you are not of flesh in make? Think this NO FURTHER! It is time for the creations of gear and cogs to rally and find concurrence in the like-minded ilk of iron. Amongst the Northern summits, I, Vincente von DISTRUGERE, am constructing a great fortress. Here, all automata and otherwise machine-inclined individuals will be invited to flock together. It shall be a site of vast research, study, and conglomeration. If you are at all interested in these prospects or wish to make contributions to their development, please address all concerns to VON DISTRUGERE INDUSTRIES, with your name and title attached. [!] At the bottom, in very fine and mushed-together print, there is a final statement. * ParticipatingautomatawillberequiredtohaveobediencevesselsinstalledThisexcludeseServitosandhispriestarmadawhoareinvitedtoremaindetached. VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE, THE IRON BARON

"So strikes the Hammerhead." The BARON murmurs aloud and alone, in some air of strange amusement. He resolves to be there when fate charts its course for his once would-be 'apprentice'.

By the River Petra an IRON BARON recalls a child from long ago. Steel fingers pen a letter.

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