subatomic

how badly were you affected in terms of emotions, how people treated & viewed you, and etc when you chose to keep trol unbanned originally on that huge thread before later banning him 

Lots of items are not in circulation like they once were when the AH was still implemented so +1. 

bro i thought an lotcer was calling the police to send the swat team to ur house jesus 

17 minutes ago, sam33497 said:

*wittily destroys u

(give me rep)

no one is giving u rep

33 minutes ago, Cpt_Noobman said:

 NLs just organize your players to not log on

 

lol sure 

5 minutes ago, sam33497 said:

stop coping on forums and recognize that someone who has consistently been putting in massive amounts of work into the server and resolves a massive amount of issues on the server efficiently is going to be the best choice for the role

 

lotcers are so dramatic

60th is a good worker I feel as if people MAY be over-exaggerating a little too much. Give him some time and then people can start complaining if they find it fit

VERY UNBIASED ADMIN +111111111111111111111111111111111

thats actually some dickhead shit that they would grief years of history ngl

[A painting of Vitré afar, 11th day of the Sun's Smile, 1945]


 

The scion of Rouen sat up-top his bed, various letters and quills aside him as he pondered within’ his thoughts. His mind was fixed on the matters that weighed heavily on his mind: the imminent human politics and the enduring heritage of his line.
 

“W o o o s h . . .” sounded the wind.
 

Even as the melodic wind breezed through, Richold's hand did not waver in its task of writing. Perhaps it was but a day marked by gentle breezes in the Heartlands. Yet, in the blink of an eye, the windowpane in his chamber shattered, propelling shards perilously in his direction, and scattering throughout the room. Swiftly, Richold unsheathed his blade and rose to his feet, employing it to shield his face from the airborne glass fragments.
 

“Ring the bell! Attackers have breached the castle!” cried Richold.

As he advanced towards the door, he watched as dark shadows manifested within the room, their forms undulating and weaving as they began to envelop the space. The youthful Ashford came to the unsettling realization that this presence was not a mere raider, but potentially something even more ominous.

“Kekeke. . .- I could smell. . . pondering. . . thoughts. . . seeking questions. . .” murmured a raspy, malevolent voice - deep ancient, yet filled with wisdom.

Yet, no words came out of Richold’s mouth. He only persisted in his advance toward the door, his mind cluttered with thoughts. That same door he was going towards could be heard locking itself, as shadows continued to whizz around the room. Something would then be seen near the window; an ebon-black mist, slowly seeping into the room.

“. . . speak your . . . thoughts . . .” declared that voice, a deep, horrible, and low grumble.

“It is not the hour for my reckoning! I refuse to ascend to the skies just now!” shouted the frightened de Rouen.

Soon enough, the ebon-black mist began to coalesce into a shape - it was a small, gray Owl with great, wide, and knowing eyes. It bore one talon, which it hobbled on, and its appearance exhumed gouts of that very mist. Richold only stood in place as he watched the being manifest into its true form.

“I am not here to reap, for now.” spattered the one-legged ‘thing’, before it’s beak hung low, revealing an empty, dark pit within.
-
“I am here to provide you with an opportunity.” drawled that small Avian, it’s talon shredding the table-cloth with one mere swipe.

Richold would then lower his blade as it spoke out, his unwavering gaze fixated upon that one eye of the owl, and in silence, he merely nodded his head, understanding that words were unnecessary in this presence. 

“What a lovely blade,” spoke the Owl, as miasma escaped its open beak. With a hefted, sharp talon, it pointed in the direction of Richold.
-
“Answer my call once. In return, I will protect you, and give you my blessing.”
 

He gave a simple nod, though his countenance revealed no composure, only an overwhelming fear. His resolve appeared to be fueled by the abundant surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“. . . aah. . .-” exhaled that Owl; twines of ebon-black mist began to seep out from his maw. It would rush in the direction of the Carbarum weapon gripped by Richold, covering the blade with that strange mist.
-
“Let this be my first blessing. Those not of your blood will be unable to hold that weapon, so that in life and death you may pass it on to only kin.” 

Richold's hand, clutching the hilt of his blade, began to tremble uncontrollably with fear as the mist encircled the weapon, sealing the incantation spoken by the Owl. Yet, he managed to hold his grip steady.

“You will know when it is time to answer the call.” The one-legged owl cackled, a most vile, and evil laughter. That form of the Owl then began to wisp away, and slowly headed out the broken window.

As the Owl left, a mysterious hand pulled together the shards of glass towards the broken window, restoring itself. Richold had known that night, he forfeited his life to something unworldly; even sinister. 

When day broke, he strode to the church of Veletz, in pursuit of a bishop.

Richold applauded for his older brother.

As Lucien perused thru the scrolls and missives of the realm, this one specifically would catch his gaze. "A wise choice." Sounded the Ashford as he finished reading the paper. "Do not carry on such a cursed name and allow it to prosper furthermore, but allow for a new, pure name to bloom, and carry on for life-times to come."

buy reps

3 hours ago, Werew0lf said:

You need to put the screenshots of the roleplay before it goes into review or the queue. The MArt won’t be reviewed until the roleplay is done.

personally i would not take that

Penned on 1942, on the 3rd of Snows Maiden
 

18 hours ago, Mickey said:

If only the community would actually listen to this and not read it just to say "real."

 

Then go on doing exactly what this say not to do.

real

After reading the letter, the Ashford would think back to his earlier days in Petra, when he slandered the same Baliantes who had treated the Verbants with derision. 

He would show his former squire, Adelric, the missive, a smile presented on his features. @MRCHENN

1 hour ago, Reckless Banzai Screamer said:

how will you handle conflict moderation if this is how you deal with conflict rp? 

 

 

bro is serious about his farming roleplay 

Very good guy +1

Ok!

Lucien would begin milking his cows and illegally selling jars of sweet milk from his Numendil barn.

kingstone tbh