Isvinity

𝒯he girl's breath misted in the brittle air. 𝒯he cold of Norland was so fierce that her throat felt tacky with frost. 𝒮o far north, and the great tumble of the mountains aroung them, glittering with hard-pack snow like silver and stars in the moonlight. 𝒲hen the girl set her hand on the mace's forearm, the silver-coldness of the beggars ordnance was hard and strange under her scholarly touch, like the ice of the mountain. 𝐿ike the crown of a queen.

need this bad

this is unreal i need you to inject your formatting skills into my blood

stole this for my original dark fantasy setting, thanks

Guinheyvar blinked rapidly against the sting of the smoke of the torches and the glint of the swords hung along the lintels of the watchtower, tips pointed down like teeth in terrible jaws. Now, looking at the missive, she wondered for Neia's doom.

Suliymar'i are a culture of desert-dwelling elves from distant southron lands who, after a period of indebted servitude divided their ilk, migrated to the capital city of Eldwyn on the continent of Aevos in the Second Age. I. OVERVIEW II. HISTORY —-------THE HOMELAND —-------THE CAURÓSIAN ERA III. APPEARANCE IV. CULTURE —-------NAMING CONVENTIONS —-------ART, FOOD, AND FASHION —-------ECONOMICS AND LABOR V. TRADITIONS —-------FAITH AND RELIGION —-------DEATH AND THE AFTERLIFE —-------FAMILY AND UIR’MAYLU —-------MAGI Suliymar was once a name of resplendence for many. Comprised of a radiant elven tribe of proud yet reclusive Mali’tos who broke away from the mainland during the first age, Suliymar was an enclave to some Children of Malin who so rejoiced beneath the desert sun, who were both content and dignified in their unity as a state, even as their fellows in other lands rested divided. They were a proud people, but it was this pride which prevented their self-examination – they did not see that their populous land was stagnant in number. Their fate was pre-ordained by the curse that rested in the wombs of their mothers and daughters. It was the Velian Republic¹ who would be the knife of fate. They came in vast numbers, overwhelming the city with militarism that the isolated scholars did not recognize, entrenching and seating themselves in the thrones of those who only the most exalted Suliymar’i had once sat within. The heart of Suliymar — its gleaming sandstone cities, sacred observatories, and high councils — were dominated by Velian governors and bureaucrats, while the Suliymar’i were pushed to the fridges: slaves, servants, soldiers. The Velian rulers, bound by the brevity of human life, rose and fell in rapid succession. The Suliymar’i, patient and enduring, outlived their colonizers and quietly reclaimed influence through the erosion of memory and the passage of years. As Velian monuments weathered and their language faded from common use, the Soliymar’i began to weave their ancestral traditions back into the fabric of society – but it was not without change, and the culture of today is a mosaic of old and new. Nestled between the arid desert and humid jungle, the coastal city of Suliymar stands as a vast, sunlit wonder. Once a distinguished trading center established by nomadic tribes of Mali’tos², its ancient sections feature lofty domed roofs, wind-catching towers, elaborate tilework, and cool courtyards filled with palm and fruit trees. Decorative sandstone minarets soar above the narrow, twisting streets bustling with the sounds of market vendors. Following the era of Velian subjugation, the northern quarter was scarred by colonnades, marble forums, aqueducts, and grand statues. The new authorities enforced their culture through stone and steel, but the spirit of the Suliymar’i remained resilient; after Man’s brief tenure in elvendom, Suliymar’s traditions gradually resurfaced, and the northern quarter was abandoned to decay. Beyond the city's boundaries, nestled along the arid basin, hides Diraar³. Suliymar’i elders tell tales that when the great storm first howled across the heavens, there was no shelter to be found — only a great spiraling dark that sundered sky from sea. Wayward and sundered themselves, the people of Suliymar were caught in the vortex, but in the heart of the void they discovered a blinding light⁴ and mistook it for deliverance. Shepherded by the false star, the Suliymar’i made landfall where the storm broke, believing themselves saved, unaware that they had crossed the threshold into a realm shaped by a will greater than their own. From the shores of their temporary refuge, the Suliymar’i watched the rise of Cauróst, a nation of martial rigor and ancient rites, whose heart beat with elven valor not unlike that of their own lost state. Caurósi elves bore arms not out of necessity, but tradition. Having once been both vassal and sovereign beneath a thousand banners, they found the steel harmony of Cauróst familiar, and so the Aevosi Suliymar’i wandered inland in search of kin. The Suliymar’i are a people marked by grace and symmetry, with high cheekbones, straight, noble noses, and well-defined jaws. Their physique is lithe yet strong: broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, built for endurance rather than bulk. Skin tones range from bright coppers to deep brown, with rare olive undertones and fair complexions appearing only in those hailing from Slaver’s Bay⁵. Their almond-shaped eyes typically carry hues of brown, hazel, and violet, and they grow dark hair in waves or coils, often perfumed and adorned, for both men and women regard grooming as an art of self-respect. Even under foreign suns and strange customs, Suliymar’i refinement endures. A fondness for scented oils, vibrant pigments, and the soft glow of polished skin persists as a cultural inheritance. Among those whose blood mingles with that of ancient Larihei⁶ stock, the legacy is subtle yet striking — hair touched by shades of gold or starlight, though their complexions remain rooted in the deep tones of their forebears. The naming traditions of the Suliymar'i draw richly from the tongues of their elders. Names are chosen not only for their sound but for the weight they carry. Surnames are rare outside noble circles; instead, individuals are known by epithets that evoke lineage, deed, or place. Nimue, Daughter of the Flame Amr, He Who Hunts the Horizon Majidi, Of the Emerald City Enid, May She Be Sunblessed Haewil, the Glass Knight Graceful in form and fierce in spirit, the Suliymar'i hold physical mastery and sportsmanship as both a rite and a pleasure. In the golden heat of day they rode like wind over dunes on steeds bred for silence and speed, and their archery was renowned for felling birds mid-flight. Hunters stalked long-legged antelope through wadi and wisp-grass, bows strung with hair from distant beasts. Strategical board games were played on inlaid stone, music drifted through the colonnades while dancers swayed in perfumes silks, storytellers spun tales with voices rich in myth and memory. Above it all, perfumery was and remains sacred – an art divine. Fragrance is soulcraft; it marks station, mood, intention. Oils once distilled from desert bloom and rare resins are now mixed by alchemists. A Suliymar'i might forget their sandals before their scent, for to be known in Suliymar is to be known by aroma: amber and rose, myrrh and citrus, each vial a verse in the poetry of presence. The base of the Suliymar'i diet is shaped by the abundance of the land and the philosophy of balance that underpins their way of life: flatbreads baked on hot stones, tangy cheeses, date-sweet yogurt, and dark beer brewed by desert grains. Favoring harmony over excess, every ingredient serves purpose. Sweetness comes from figs, apricots, and raisins; depth from almonds and walnuts; brightness from pomegranate and orange. Meals are often finished with diluted herbal syrups. When a Suliymar’i walks the garden paths of their cities or the torchlit halls of council, they are clad not just in finery but in the living history of a people who endure, for the clothing of their people draws from both ancient elven tradition and their Velian and Caurósian acculturation. Flowing robes, embroidered tunics, airy shawls, and elegantly loose trousers are cut in sweeping silhouettes to keep the body cool. These dyed linens and fine-spun wools are often decorated by intricate needlework and beading. Celestial symbols are favored above all; stars, moons, and sunbursts repeat across all forms of fashion. Since their union with Cauróst, the Suliymar'i have also adopted the five flames of Myumier: their likenesses now appear as brooches, belt-clasps, or embroidered familiars on cuffs and hems. At the heart of Suliymar's gleaming courts stood a sovereign prince whose word was the law. Beneath his golden eye moved the magi, robed in dusk-dyed silks and heavy with rings of office; they were keepers of divine rights and celestial omens, and trusted stewards of temple banks. The prince's kin and a circle of storied nobles served as his counsellors whose place was to draw wisdom from the annals. Merchants wove between cities and distant lands, artisans carved beauty into stone and song, and entertainers spun myth into music and fire into dance. Yet it was the labor of farmers and herders, builders and servants, which long upheld the splendor of Suliymar. After the arrival of the Velian settlers, indebted servitude crept across the lower class and bound the common folk. Still, the land bloomed. Agriculture and animal husbandry remained the foundation of wealth, but seaborne trade surged with Velian ships – bringing salted fish, foreign gems, and new spices to Suliymar's harbors. Amidst it all the Suliymar'i pursued wonder: channeling riverbeds through the arid dunes, they birthed vast irrigated gardens that defied the desert's hunger and became local paradises. The faith of the Suliymar'i is less rigid than those of their forebears. At the heart of their faith lies a pantheon not fixed in stone and scripture but fluid: fire, earth, air, and water, each a sacred principle from which life flows and to which the divine returns. Worship comes through acts of devotion: incense wafting through temple gardens, hands pressed to cool idols carved from riverstone, strings of blessed beads kissed in passing, tea leaves read by firelight for glimpses of fates yet unwoven. No heresy exists so long as reverence is shown; the Suliymar’i honor the gods their neighbors serve, even as they clasp close their own. In the Sulyimar'i culture, death is viewed not as a conclusion but a transformation. It is believed that the soul of the departed embarks on a journey beyond the living realm to the House of Paradise – a verdant realm where the dead feast beneath everlasting moonlight and rest against flowering trees which never wilt. This mourning period lasts three days, after which the body of the departed is wrapped in perfumed linens and set ablaze under the night sky. The resulting ashes are gathered in beautifully decorated urns and transformed into ink, which is then used to mark the skin⁷ of the deceased's living relatives. Funerals are jubilant affairs with music, feasting, and tales told in candlelit halls. Despite their reverence for death's journey, there are lines no Suliymar'i dares to cross: entering the temples of long-dead gods is to disrupt their eternal slumber. Worse still is the trespassing upon the sanctity of an elven tomb – an offense which brands one as cursed, ostracized by both temple and culture. In Suliymar'i society family is a matriarchal lineage where the eldest living woman of a household holds both spiritual and practical authority. Not bound by blood but by the door beneath which one sleeps, blood relations, adopted kin, sworn companions, and even debt-bound servants may all be part of a single family, so long as they share its walls and submit to its matron’s guidance. Unions do not sever a Sulyimar'i from their home but rather expand it as wings and gardens are built to receive the new lineage. Whether through romance, kinship, or something unspoken, Suliymar’i believe that two elves can be tethered at the soul – they call this Uir’maylu. While most soulbonds form between lovers, they are not bound to passion; twins, companions, or even fated strangers may share this sacred link, for the Suliymar’i believe that some souls are born already leaning toward one another, waiting only for the right moment to meet. When two beings recognize one another as Uir’maylu, they may choose to partake in the ritual drinking of khareth⁸. Even when time or distance divides them, few Suliymar'i ever seek another life partner, for to be Uir'maylu is to be forever touched by another’s essence. The death of one is believed to unmoor the soul of the other, leaving behind a body that walks but never fully returns. In such cases, their ashes and tombs are joined. Though the Suliymar’i once revered magic as the most sacred of callings the legacy of Velian conquest has left their relationship with the arcane scarred and ambivalent. In the earliest days, the Suliymar'i cultivated mage-priests and starbinders, their high temples doubling as academies where spellcraft and spiritual truth were taught as one. But when the Velian ships arrived gleaming with gold and veiled in diplomacy, it was not steel alone that unseated their people. Human magisters, wielding foreign sigils and unclean invocations, stormed the skies and broke the defense with mercenary precision. What was once holy became weaponized, desecrated in service of empire. Now, generations removed from occupation, magic in Suliymar is neither outlawed nor fully accepted. It is approached with caution, spoken of in low tones, and practiced — if at all — under the strict supervision of the Matron Houses or the cloistered orders. Spellwork is permitted in public life only when bound by ritual, apology, or ancestral context. Arcane universities exist, but more as relics than institutions of renown. ¹ The Velian Republic was a patriarchal Heartlander society hailing from lands west of the continent of Axios. ² Mali'tos translates to ‘Elves of the Desert’ in the common tongue. ³ Common Suliymar’i superstition refers to Diraar as a place of foul and wicked magic not even the sun will touch; the elven word for sentinel. ⁴ Orsathiael, Daemon of Rulership and Control. ⁵ Slaver's Bay is located on the eastmost coast of Suliymar. ⁶ Early Mali’tos were offspring of Mali’aheral and Mali’ame. ⁷ Originating from the Mali’ame’s practice of ilmyumier. ⁸ A sour fermented wine said to induce hallucinations.

A very early talk my character Kindrel had with the then-leader of Snow Elves which later led to the exodus from Elvenesse and revival of our princedom. It served as the catalyst for much of the community's growth beyond what was, at the time, a stagnated modern elvendom, and more than that is was the first time I truly got to see the cause-effect of LOTC in action, with myself near enough to the center to reap the benefits directly. The very same conversation was later alluded to during her PK scene, which wrapped up her story in a really beautiful and tragic way. The Araaloq family dinner with @Unwillingly, @Epistile, and @MunaZaldrizoti. The final scene between my Siliti Dahlya and @christman's wight, in which a civil war was brewing amongst darkspawn and the barrowlord gifted something precious to his young friend. Last night's roleplay. IYKYK. That one time that Sachiko straight up murdered a little girl in front of Avagis to gain his approval and he just did the Jeremiah Johnson nod. Writing Dahlya was awesome and I sorely miss her as a character concept but I think the state of darkspawn politics at the time put me in a poor headspace and sometimes poor company, and I made a lot of choices that lost me friends or otherwise distanced me from people or communities. Since her death I've been able to reconcile with my own behavior and have made a lot of amends, thankfully, but the experience has helped me to be more mindful going forward — my roleplay experience should not come at the expense of others'. I think digestibility of writing is very important in collaborative writing spaces and while I love your lore pieces, I sometimes think that your emotes are too poetry heavy — I struggle often to understand what exactly you are attempting to convey in your emotes, and you yourself have told me other people feel similarly, so hopefully this isn't too much of a shock! I've been saying for years that I wish the community would shift to be 18+ not only for the safety of minors and ease of moderation but because LOTC lends itself very well to darker, more mature literary themes that often have to be sanitized for the sake of our younger players.

I remember the day I joined LOTC — a cool afternoon in Elvenesse, 2021, and I ran around cluelessly as a pink name until @Unwillinglytook me under their wing. I've oscillated around different communities since then, writing lore, making modpacks, and earning my own share of controversy and drama, and figured with the recent passing of my (give or take) fourth anniversary it was time to finally make one of these.

Valindra is a character that I've come to understand is rather polarizing both ICly and OOCly, due to her extensive lore and characterization choices that have ultimately led to a well-rounded persona (or so I see her!). Have you ever struggled with people's perception of her as a character, or even you as a player? How have you personally overcome the server's OOC bias against void and darkspawn-adjacent players, and what do you recommend to newer players hoping to dip their feet in?