megavoltar

ELDEN RING ELDEN RINGWBJG8GH2NKDHRJE

Finally... I can call Quentin Brae to pick me up from the Elysium Scholarly School of Scholarly Actions and Education on a dial dime...

Huh, neat

Goodbye 'ol chum, thanks for putting up with all the shenanigans over the months, gonna miss that quick draw replies towards my cries for help in breaking windows.

A feller was absolutely DANCIN' somewhere on the coast of the Silver State, the smell of burnt flesh from an out of control voidal mage, hints of minty frost that he couldn't actually smell, and finally The Ploy was underway... Seabreeze, Biggie Breeze, Pirate Breeze, Owynist Breezer, Banana Brawler, Bane of the Silver State, Monkey King, Potential Bomber, Friend of Ologgs, Honey-nut Enjoyer, was ready to enact Martial Takeover...

A ghastly figure cleared his throat before he spoke "Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you Sedanians, if you still even remember that Nation. But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume. Although you have indeed been called. You have all been called here. Into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach. But you will never find them, none of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well, I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors: Be still and give up your spirits, they don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours. And then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest. For you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication."

personally I am inclined towards Almarican myself because all the elf players are from the EU, just to make them angry

Upon the snow drifted tundra, there was a particular fellow out hunting once more. A boar that caught his eye in the later parts of the afternoon began to frolic around, savoring its own last meal. But the lone 'fenn soon realized that his drifting eyes, used to the darkness of yor', were faulty in the rays of the glorious sun once more. He missed his target, whatever semblance of a spear leftover from the fight with the undead shattering on a rock that became the main target. The boar ran, far off into the tundra, 'till it blended in white and brown with its scenery. Lost It was funny in some sense then, he related to that lost creature in a drifting, changing tundra.

Name: Illianaro Race: Snow Elf Age: 34 Gender: Male [[OOC]] Username: megavoltar Discord: megavoltar#5496 Timezone: PST

Nu Loc, Et., 20th of the First Seed – Seabreeze (I-Vt.) on The Previous Saints Day issued the following statement after the Lectorate Administration announced it supports efforts to waive intellectual property rights for Concitura Vampiric Trials: “I applaud Lord Quentin and his administration for taking this bold step in response to the world’s most urgent crisis. Our vaccination efforts here at home will only be successful if vaccination efforts in the developing world happen simultaneously. Supporting this waiver, and putting people over profits, will help us to do that by speeding up the production and availability of vaccines. This is exactly the kind of leadership the world needs right now." “I also recognize the dedicated work done by activists in communities around the world to put this issue on the global agenda. We are all in this together.” Seabreeze last month wrote a letter to The Lectorates of Owyn calling for the administration to back the waiver effort.

[!] Letters would be sent to the great leaders of the men and mice across the continent of the Disneyland, while additional copies would be circulated to traders and caravans throughout the realm. It would read: To His High Holiness, the Pontiff; @Pureimp10 To His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Oren; @Nectorist To His Majesty, the King of Haense; @Xarkly To His Highness, the Prince of Savoy; @Publius To His Lordship, the Lord of Du Loc @Shorsand To that fucker 'Malta', Local Terrorist @chacmul To that handsome Barclay, Heir to the Barclay Name @Ziggitee Finally upon decades of experimentation and poverty, my people have finally found a way to circulate Musin CAs of a righteous purpose. Unique and unrivaled, we've a 1-day delivery to making you a fat rat. Able to turn you into one in the short time of 3 months. A feat achieved without sponsorship nor support from those beyond our small realm, the value of the work we have done for the betterment of all of mankind and the potential it holds to grant you power and OOC supremacy is not lost on us. Therefore, respecting my Weed Factory's historic neutrality toward all other realms, the recipe shall be offered via auction. Starting at the bid of Seventeen Childrens Kidney's, the highest bidder shall be given exclusive insight into the recipe for this cure, to administer throughout their respective domain as they see fit. The auction shall proceed for 24 Saint's Hours following the arrival of these letters, and bids shall be circulated consistently to all who have been outbid to ensure fair competition. Please note that this is an open auction, and will not be restricted to the addressees of this letter. Signed, Slinch Schwingus, Local Pharacist

Began rapidly vomitting on the floor and having a seizure in the auction house, that was the bid of a Musin whom had ingested the VVizard VVeed

Seabreeze, Biggie Breeze, Seabreeze of the Sea-men, Banana Brawler, Haelun'or's Bane, Bane, Wife Stealer, Wife Killer, Bomb Maker, Alchemist, Pirate, Mage, Breath-Mint, Pirate (again) was reading about this missive. The Musin was approaching a nearby auction house to begin bidding on this item despite the fact that... For all contents... It was not even there. Along his journey there was multiple gates, and people guarding them. It was very, very, VERY Gatekept. When the Musin arrived, he quickly took his seat watching some fellows familiar and not bidding. And so, the musin cast his own bid. The Musin began vomitting out a bird skull from its previous meal, it was promptly kicked out as all the gatekeepers began hitting it with bats to knock it out, they were quite good at it. The End.

A lowlife among the dead, perhaps one better off inside of a tomb then a tower overlooking darkness, was enjoying his latest findings on the High Elves and their two-faced ways. Among his numerous literary findings; lo and behold there perched was a bird of the undead, the shrivelled and rotten armor clinking and clanking at the fellow moved with haste and vehemence. "Another damnable mention of that war I presume...?" His simple disengagement in the topic was thrown sideways to where the dust was firmly settled, as, to the surprise of one whom already had a second chance, was the death of someone or something he found pleasant. The notice containing the words of common dictating the wallowing lurkers of the Druii was of the last things he expected. And as his undulating eyes pressed further into the wet scroll, taken away from his attempts at writing Xionist scripture to begin his wandering quest, the name of the Frog King also appeared as the spectral red lifted himself from his chair. "Wrought out in the sun for too long, preaching to trees I could easily burn down, and now they play games with the lives of The Creator's makings? Wretched fools, to think I would be brought to such infuriated somber from a FROG of all things... I find myself in NO emotions similar, yet as the last of his kind, perhaps I should spare pity." Tears... They fell like a waterfall for the fallen Wonk, though the Mercatorii knew not what it was like to go extinct, he only wished he could have prevented the Wonk from never knowing the same. And so he cried.

Within a' temple veiled in thick black with the undead screaming about, and unhallowed ground rumbling underneath, there was a fellow particularly familiar with these High Elves and their ways, his hands slowly laying down the missive as his wretched maroon eyes twisted and lurched about before settling in place. "To think...They seemed so opportunistic of the Primeval Way, to stand together under one banner against the plagues of this world. Yet, here they are. Mucking about like sniveling swine that someone is different then them... Liars to the face of an honest undead." A BELL TOLLED IN THE CRYPT, IT HAD LOST ITS INVITING RING.

Seabreeze looked over the Missive, as Biggie Breeze A.k.a, The Banana Brawler A.k.a, Big Jumbo A.k.a, Public Debate Menace searched and sauntered on that mighty boat with his comrades at his side. He searched naught for alchemic supplies but instead for a reason to care about this as his bruised back reminded him of something... And then there was that shadow of a bird looming over his voyager. A bird, average in size, crested with the mark of a Mali'Thill approaching fast as the Pirate Mage Alchemist Musin withdrew a merry knife, his sword 'a swinging as it crested past the flag and descended towards him! But it could not expect what was to happen next... The mouse with its might sword drawn had climbed up the pole with its swiftness and met the bird halfway down, its talons outstretched attempting to catch the mouse as it forgot about the note in tandem, causing it to fall down and fail to procure its meal, and deliver a frugal note. Instead as the Musin met the Haelun'or Tea Bird in the air, it appeared that it had met its fate at the hands of the Pirate Ninja Alchemist Mage Rat. Cut in two it was, sliced by the powerful hand of the Musin as he caught the note whilst landing, his comrade Lint manning the Helm and preventing a collision all the while. "Them mofferuckers say Ivarielle the bad guy?! Maynnnneee last time I got to Haelun'or it was for Tea! Tea! Tea! I ain't got tea, I got BRUISES!" The musin readied himself for a belligerent cry as his lungs filled with salt and sewer in this vast sea, he withdrew a Spy Glass as he began to peer into the seemingly infinite horizon of cerulean blue and finally let his little yet mighty call ERUPT! "THERE WAS NO TEA IN HAELUN'OR!" The musin bellowed out as he continued giving directions to his comrade, where they were headed exactly was unknown... And the water appeared to be gettin' a bit colder...

THEM MOTHERFUCKERS PLOTTING THE END OF THE WORLD! IT AINT GONNA BE THE DRAGON (who was shot in the ass), OR SOME S.T.A.L.K.E.R METRO VOIDAL BULL, ITS GONNA BE MINECRAFT ITSELF