TheBigBubbles

I don't really watch many shows, but my friend showed my Our Flag Means Death, and I'm a homo, so that one.

Purple. Yes and no, I joined during covid when I had nothing else going on in my life, so the game acted as a replacement for a lot of stuff I would have had otherwise. Now that I'm at uni, if I try to dedicate as much time as I used to, it's just overwhelming. I really enjoy the server, despite some of it's drawbacks, but I think it can get unhealthy.

that's not a question!

I'm not copying hope. also, since I'm not copying hope, here's my first screenshot on the server. https://imgur.com/a/ErMpvlc Sitting outside of a closed gate 😅

This Lore has been accepted. Moved to Implemented Lore, it will be sorted to it's appropriate category soon. Please note that if this is playable lore, such as a magic or CA, you will need to write a guide for this piece. You will be contacted regarding the guide (or implementation if it isn’t needed) shortly.

Oh thank ****

A raven-haired woman of advanced age sat within her home, under the cover of a red banner, reading a book. Hesperia would then place it down, a flurry of memories hitting the woman, she'd think aloud "I wonder what happened to that fellow..." she'd murmur, fishing through a pile of news only to find the truth, she'd let out a small scoff, shaking her head, she'd place it on to her desk moving past her son she'd pat him on the shoulder, kissing the top of his head, almost afraid to let go of the boy, she'd then journey to the kitchen cooking up a meal with Sigismund in mind, she'd chuckle softly, "To think I'm sad about the death of a man I tried to kill..." She'd place a hand to her chest, feeling a wave of anxiety as she began to see her peers drop dead, was her time nearing? She could not have it. She'd hang a piece of parchment up above the library, striking yet another name off of the list.

Unga Bunga event resources +1

sure is.

After being handed the report a towering woman's eyes would widen in shock, a slender hand even coming to cover her mouth. After leaving the confines of her conversation she would return to her abode and weep, in a frenzy the woman would begin to throw various possessions and memorabilia into a corner of the room. That sable-haired lady would then find a box, placing each of these possessions with in it, and welding it shut. She'd then run her fingers through her hair, stress wracking her features, she was too old for this...

To think of any other end for a woman such as she would be a product of great niavety, Some could say she was doomed from the beginning, a product of two parents that took one look at her and decided that she was not fit for the life ahead of her. Even then, she did not give up, through the neglect and through the pain, she searched for what was right. Plagued with near constant guilt a simple trick of the eye lead her to her first home, Elvenesse, not a place for orcs. Though, a child such as herself would have little concept of the pain this was to bring. She was met with warmth, a sense of support and love, something she could not give up. Her first mother, perhaps a little inexperienced, but caring nonetheless, but nothing was set to last, she too would be ripped away from her, expelled from the place she called home on the basis of her race. Finding sanctuary in the mother grove, she would then meet her second adoptive mother, a goblin, a plant. At this point she was still attempting to juggle her identities, unsure of where she belonged. Often she would visit Krugmar, in hopes that she would somehow fit in, somehow be accepted, but each visit drove her further away, into the arms of the druids. Her youth was wrought with religious conflict and an unstable sense of identity. Though, as she aged she developed a concrete sense of morals, perhaps to her own detriment. The woman was determined to do right by the word, but was the world really worth such efforts? At the young age of sixteen her mother died, leaving young Urza saddled with the responsibility of the household and their numerous, near infinite stock of ferrets. At this point Urza had taken to traveling between both Elvenesse and the Mother Grove, often seeing many patients near-daily. Her reputation proceeded her "One of the good ones". She had not yet realized that her reputation teetered a very fine line. To be useful was to survive, bar that and she would soon meet a grim reality. After the death of her mother, she launched herself even further into her work and into dedicancy, gaining proficiency at a staggering level. Soon she would become a surgeon in her own right, lecturing local elves on their own stupidity, and acting as a rare dose of sanity. Eventually she would long for a family, she would soon be accepted in to house Hawksong, a long line of musical elves, proficient in equestrian arts. Naturally, this was quite a staggering thing, to have an orc in an elven house, but so it was. This cemented her place in elven society, and though she was never truly treated equally, she was content, she had succeeded, found her place. This happiness would be cut short when she made the decision to have her first child, the harsh reality became clear, he would not be embraced as she was, he was not willing to be perfect, he was crushed under the weight of a society that expected twice the excellence just to be treated as less than, rather than discarded, or mounted on a pike. This rift in her perception of her kin, and the reality of their mistreatment would plant seeds of doubt in the young orcess' mind. Urza would go on to have two more children, dedicating her every waking thought to keeping them safe and sane whilst juggling the inherently oppressive nature of her home. She would fail. Not only would her firstborn be ripped away from her, so too would her young daughter, kidnapped by the same uruk that slew her son, and kept from her, told that her mother had abandoned her. Losing her children broke Urza, she would become a recluse, wandering the forests for some sense of meaning, barely speaking a word. Attempts were made to reintegrate but the seeds of hatred and vitriol had prospered in her time away. Given such a time to ponder her treatment, she would no longer see those she helped as kin, instead viewing her life through a crimson tinge. The woman, determined to remain steadfast in her morals removed herself from her past, leaving for another nation, giving up her dedicancy, throwing herself once more into her work. Though this would not bring her satisfaction. Urza would soon learn of her missing daughter, upon hearing the grueling truth of her life and the lies she had been told, she would be thrown into a fit of rage, destroying her own home in the process, "Da Ragukz took mi in, dey told mi lat... lat abandoned mi" "Mi nevah woul' abandon lat." "Nevah" "Ag zhoul' nevah 'ave let youh goh bahk, ahm zo zorreh, ah wanted tah give youh ah choice, choice ah nevah 'ad" something within the woman would be revitalized, once again fueled by a dedication to her loved ones, and a hunger to right the world's wrongs once more. This however would not fix the hurt, it would not fix the fact that she had nowhere to go, no family she could call her own, no shoulder to cry on. Of course she had the Hawksongs, but they would never understand the weight of a lifetime of lies, of a worldview turned upside down. It is not known what happened to Urza, perhaps she has found a home among the forests, perhaps she simply succumbed to the elements. One thing however is sure, she, as many have before did not go out in a blaze of glory, she did not die protecting those she loved. No, instead, she went quietly into that goodnight, never to be seen again, never to be heard again, and most tragically of all, with no one to tell her story. Perhaps she would die forgotten, but perhaps she would not wish to be remembered. Perhaps in death, her wish for a better world could live on in her descendants, or perhaps she would die in vain, never to leave a mark.

we be jammin'

[!] Urza Hawksong scans the missive in thought. Having completely given up her decadency a few years prior she takes a deep breath in as if properly considering something before writing out a letter, she then begins to start scratching it out, no written words could capture her feelings. Instead she sets out on a quest to find Becclain in person.

Farewell!

One 'aheral sits comfortable in his cabin in Urguan, the man kicks up his feet as he reads the missive with a big grin. That man then tosses the missive aside, replacing it with a good book and a cup of cocoa for Krugsmas. He did not speak aloud as he was alone. The house was completely silent, just as he liked it. Urza Hawksong smiles at the missive, pocketing it as she looks to her newly reunited daughter. She then begins her way to the Docks, where she opens the door to her room in the Hawksong Manor, the woman takes a seat on the bed, sighing softly, "Amaezil moight be dizagreeable at tymez, buht 'e maykez fer ah ayla leadah. Ah juz' 'ope thoze whoite zkaher'z lizten" The woman then roots through her bag, frowning down at the thought of a certain mali'thill girl and how she might have fared in this game of life.

IK you'll do great dude.

I don't think it could be said any better than this. It's heart-wrenching to hear what happened to you. I also experienced something similar elsewhere, and I can only say nothing really stops the feelings from boiling up again. To be able to be so eloquent when emotional is a skill I'm not sure I possess. Thank you for this well-written statement, I hope people listen.

Fair point, and not all of the players would necessarily know the allegations against the guy. Srry, I'm getting heated, I'm going to step away, have a good night.

Sorry, but relevant to roleplay stops when someone is grooming people oocly. **** that noise.

As someone who has had first hand experience on the receiving end of some of this stuff as a kid. I and most any rational person will not ******* tolerate this kind of behavior. You are right, we as a community need to step up. Someone on staff literally has some minecraft server permissions and a shiny tag, that's it. Lets do this. edit: I literally discourage any of my friends who are minors from joining this server, that says something. I must also mention that I often feel pretty powerless when I hear about these situations. Which... I think might be a shared sentiment.

A certain Urza Hawksong ensures that she is wearing a few more layers of warmth. The Orcess begins to maliciously skin one of the dire-wolves she slew. She could almost feel the warmth being snuffed out as she worked, as if it was seeping away from simply being near the snow storm. A few sutures later and she had fashioned herself a coat befitting a woman of her stature. Of course, it was a little rough around the edges, Urza was not used to sewing clothing. The woman peers out of her window at the intense climate before her, the woman begins to preemptively shiver "Whoiy did ah evah chooze tah live ihn thiz zkah'ole agaiyn?" with that comment behind her she retreats into the furthermost room of the house, she has unpacking to do.

Hesperia von Drakenhof had found the flyer on one of her visits to Haense "Krugmas?" She questions aloud with a creased brow. The woman flips the flier every which way to try and decipher it, "Hmpf, I did lose my violin, and my piano. Though... Why on god's green earth did they use Krug for this?"