AgentofDeath13

The Vilac takes the missive in his ashen armored hands and smiles as he looks it over, mulling over the thoughts that dwell in his head before writing a response. "Hello, Mr. Thelin. I am a knowledge seeker and already a student of the basics of the Alchemical arts, but I would like to speak with you and further my knowledge of the usefulness of the material alphabet. If you would have me, I would like to maybe discuss with you the possibility whether in person or by notes. There is much that I know is tied to the alchemical, but I do not know of them. If I am selected, you may always return my bird to the Aviary in Celia'nor. I remain there for the moment." From a Fellow Hoarder, Marius Vilac

Invitation to all Mali and Lliran of Amaethea It is issued on the 18th of the Amber Cold, 90 S.A Letter to the People of Amaethea This missive is distributed to announce the continuation of the line of succession for the Crown of Prince of Amaethea. Prince of Malin'or Kosher Daesmon will officially step down from the throne of Elvenesse. With this, the prince-Heir Acanthus will assume the crown and rise to take his father's place as the prince to represent his people upon the council of Malin'or. Letter to the People of Almaris And with the west of Almaris being plagued with conflict and Turmoil. Amaethea is stuck in the middle, having been brought into the war against the Uruk. That war had exposed many evils and secret deals, and as we have come to see these things in a new light, we now take a new approach. As Lord Exarch and as the current Prince-Heir, I act with the blessings of my maln as I announce this to all the realms of Almaris and their people. Amaethea now hands the right of Inquisition to the Paladins of Xan. They now have permission, with reasonable exemption from the law, to perform their sacred duties with utmost prejudice against beings of the dark. To combat heresy and aid in conducting trials against suspected Darkspawn. The Life and peace of the people are to be set as priorities in the confines of this writ but let this serve as a reminder to the lands of the west that no dark deed goes unpunished. Where you have all fallen to Darkness, we hope to shine a light and show you what you could have done. Letter of the Three-headed Drake Much was discussed with the paladins that led up to the decision of this inquisition. After having spoken with you Elathion, I deemed that the members of the Three-headed Drake should be recognized and thanked for the efforts they gave and the help they provided when Amaethea was attacked by their father. After much debate with the Warden of the Paladins, I managed to secure your safety so long as you leave this place behind. The only request is that you sail away the vessels that currently sleep upon our waters. Should this be done then the paladins will not persecute you and you will be allowed to leave this nation in peace. Thus, we formally extend invitations to: Aeve Calithil, @Honourary Ventys Riv'Mahaen-Prisgoth and their Family, @GlassySkies The Citizens and Lords of Amaethea High Prince Vyllaenen, and all those affiliated with Malin’or @Orlanth Prince Illarion, and the peoples of Celia’nor @VoxyNoir Prince Netseth Loa’chil, and the peoples of Nor’asath @ColonelKuehl1 Sir Mika Anarion, and the dwellers of Lubba Keep @mika1278 Arch-Druid Miven Caerme’onn and the inhabitants of the Vale of Nevaehlen @WestCarolina Arch-Druid Aerendyl Hawksong and the inhabitants of the Mothers Grove @TwilightWolf Rex Borok and the Horde of Krugmar @DrunkPapaBear Keeper Alatariel and the knights of the Aengul Xan @Valannor Furthermore, we extend invitations to: Aster Daesmon and the Citizens of the Cove @HogoBojo Hareven Lorenthus and the Citizens of Oswin @Keefy Jarad Munnel and the Citizens of Helious @JoshBright Evar'tir Oranor and his venerable pedigree @Bhased Idril Sylvaeri and her venerable pedigree @JJosey Jeffrey de Wees and his venerable pedigree @Gustando Lenora Jusmia and her venerable pedigree @Bethinwonderland Melia and her venerable pedigree @Trinn [The Coronation will take place on Saturday, August 27th, 3 PM EST] Uell ito Maruthiran, HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Kosher Fier Daesmon, Prince-Royarch of Elvendom, Prince of Amaethea, Golden Tiger of the West, Patriarch of Clan Daesmon HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Acanthus Onar Taliame’onn Daesmon Silma Vuln’muriel, the IV Heir Prince-Royarch of Elvendom, Heir-Prince of Amaethea

A Unity of Flames Marius and his betrothed upon their Auric path. The wedding officiated by an unnamed man. [!]A missive distributed among all the realms of Almaris, the pages slightly burned at the edges and damp from the rain that poured from heaven above. On the night of this union's birth, the rain was pouring, God was crying, moonlight out, a Drake’s embers flying. Darkness full of fog, limiting the view of men. In a rush, a ceremony held hidden within the shadows of greatness. Two Fires alight, walking down upon a path adorned with gold surrounded by Ruin. The last Vilac and a Novellan, descendants of Man; purified by the ideals of Flame, stake their claim upon the lands of the Empire. A betrothal to guide man towards the future. Those who find themselves corrupt will soon turn to them for truth and purity. Their Kin by the names of Vilac and Renai, may now be seen through the realm, the holders of man's future. The continuation of the line.

A young Kortrevich, once taught by likes of a King and his knights sits within the fields of Acre. The missive handed to him as he tended the fields of the men who sought to teach him humility from honest work. “The divide extends beyond the walls. It can be been seen and felt by even a stranger wandering the lands. Who knows why the leaders make the choices they have, but surely you’d think that they’d see the error of their ways to some extent.” The young lad folds the missive slipping it into his sleeve his mind now muddled with various thoughts, and the naivety that so only comes in youth. With time he drops the thought and picks up his tools once more cutting down grain after grain as he had done for years in honest labor.

Brother I’m sad to see you go but I hope that bigger and brighter things lay ahead for you. Take care of yourself and stay safe as well.

Changed Status to Accepted

Congratulations!, you’ve been accepted! Welcome to Lord of the Craft! Now that you’re accepted, you will spawn in Cloud Temple as a player and be able to interact with the world around you. If you need any help, you can message me in-game by doing /msg Agentkhov, or if I’m not online, you can find me on Discord Agentkhov#8334. Lastly, if you need any guidance in-game, and I am not around, please do... /creq [message] … along with a message as to what you need, and another Community Team Member will get to you as soon as possible! After reading the below information and logging into LotC, I highly recommend sending this in chat so a Community Team Member can help you out: /creq I have just been accepted and would like a Wilven Monk! I highly recommend you join the LotC Discord using the invite link below, and please look through the New Player Guide! → https://discord.gg/7sTjWYX → Lastly, For guides, tutorials, and how to request help from a CT member, please head to the New Player Hub found here: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/193743-new-player-hub/ In addition, I recommend taking a look at our Settlement Guides. Below, I’ve linked the settlements you may be interested in based on your character’s race. → https://wiki.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Nations_and_Major_Charters If you aren’t interested in any of those, take a look at our Settlement Guide Hub! → https://wiki.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Settlement_Guides Hey there! Congrats you’ve been accepted into LotC! If you need anything or really have any questions at all shoot me a DM here or a pm on the server. My username is Agentkhov. Also, once you're on the server, you're probably going to be a bit confused about how things work. I highly suggest you type out [ /creq I need a monk.] That way we can get you some help and basically just show you around.

Changed Status to Pending

Your application has been put on pending as there are changes needing to be made before you may be accepted, as follows: →Your Metagaming and Powergaming Definitions are on the right track, though they’re not quite there. Take another look at our Wiki’s definitions for help, and I recommend including examples so I can tell you fully understand! https://wiki.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Metagaming_%26_Powergaming →Your Roleplay Scenario Response is a bit short. Please add more to your response and make sure to include one piece of quoted dialogue and one action.

AND HIS FLAME DIED OUT Tony Bojo stands before the Arch-Draakar, being taught of Asioth. Tony sat alone, in the barren desert of Savoy. As a cool night’s breeze hit him, awakening him from his slumber. He raised his head and looked around seeing nothing but the stars above him and the flame before him, crackling and popping as the heat that radiated off it waned, with its sway in the wind. The fire before him, would twist and turn morphing into a figure that resembled his corporeal form and mimicked his every breath. Tony would look at it and ask: “What are you, why are you me?” “I am your ruin, your life and death” The Flame responded, Tony nodded, rising from the sandy ground and so did the mimic. They would replay his every move, so as Tony took a step forward, so did it, as he walked into the night’s horizon, his fiery shadow followed. As he walked and continued his seemingly aimless stroll, the light from the night sky would hit the sand and reveal a secret road inlaid with gold. It was too good to be true; a path that led to freedom and a better world was all he saw, but he was just too blinded by its brilliance, to see the bodies that piled at its sides. He would march down this path, with his chin aloft, a smile upon his face, as he strode through the blood of those who came before and those who got in the way. He believed that he was still a good man, despite all those who had been hurt. With every few paces, he would look to his flame for reassurance, at moments it would burn brighter, at others it would dim giving him nothing but an unwavering visage. He would gaze into its cold amber irises and see in them the people who he had grown to love. Antonius, Emilie, Kithara, Gustaf, the Mareno brothers, the little kids who he had taught and learned to care for. Each of them, taking a bit of the mimic’s flame, to ignite their own as it addressed him. “A will to continue living, a purpose to guide their life. That is what you have left them with.” Tony would look at each person as they appeared, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he reached out and hugged the Mimic. His flames returned the embrace, as they began to consume him, swallowing him whole and feeding off his life. He and his flame were now one. As he continued down the path, a smile grew at the corners of his mouth. As he arrived at the end, It was not the perfect world he had wanted. But he had left the path behind him brighter, for those who followed, the mounds of bodies lighter, the blood drained from the road. His loved ones waiting at the end; his mother and father, his brother Treble. They all stood beyond the chopping block, awaiting him with loving eyes. The young preacher looked back to those he had met along the path and finally opened his mouth to say, Brothers and sisters, Live long, live on, the world may despise what you do, but believe that you are right and set them ablaze. With your Passion, show them the true power of one’s flame Laughter and crying was all that could be heard, as he laid himself down upon the block, his head had to roll for his flame to be snuffed. His beliefs unwavering, until the bittersweet end.

Voldar Heartstring sat at his desk within the Vanari castle, the letter clutched tightly in between his hands as tears streamed down his face. His glowing gold eyes could bring no warmth or comfort to the sheer pain within his heart as he read the words upon that page. He would have read the letter dozens, no hundreds of times before he finally chose to accept them. He would slowly rise from his seat as he wiped his tears with his cold armored hands. His only solace was wandering around aimlessly until he somehow eventually reached the tree where she had been when he truly met her for the first time. "Cailin... how could this have happened? What was the point of my quest if I couldn't even save You?" His head was flooded with thoughts, memories, and dreams that he had shared with her. He would sit at that tree for hours, as day turned to night, and night to dawn; the young Paladin having nothing on him besides the ring he wanted to give her, that piece holding a promise to have and to hold in love unto death. Thus, there he remained staring at the ring until his thoughts drove him to sleep. A bittersweet respite from the reality of her death, another day of pain and uncertainty awaiting his awakening.

Tony would take a look at the missive and smile as he stood from his seat. “She really did it. I guess it’s time for me to congratulate her and fulfill my promise” With that he would leave the missive upon his desk as he left to go look for Olivia.

The Sun Sets on Savoy [PK] Blood, blood was the source of life to all. It was the Ichor that allowed all of descendant-kind to live, to feel, to love, and to lose. Afterall life was a beautiful and precious thing, and it was in death that that beauty could be found. Lucius was always a peaceful and caring man, and he understood that peace needed more than harmony; it needed strength. In his youth he wandered into the grand city of San Luciano, the place he would eventually call his home, the place where he would define himself. He wore the sun of Savoy upon his back; both as a symbol of pride and a symbol that withheld a deeper meaning. He was all in all a loving man, one who could never fully hate a soul, but he never truly hated a soul as much as he hated his own for staining his teeth with that blessed crimson ichor he so swore to protect. His writ of disownment came of no surprise to him. Lucius was a family man and he understood that it was family who moves us. They are the ones who drive us into our deepest darkness, and who bring us out into the sweetest reprieve. He had never had a family, not until he made his way to Oren, not until he met the Vuillers. There in their home he found what he had missed, he found what had been stolen from him in his youth. That bond of family led him to be a man he wanted them to be proud of. In his last few days of life Lucius did his best to act as if nothing had changed. That was how he always was, he didn't want to worry his children or wife with the rumors surrounding him. Should anyone ask him, he would’ve told them the truth, helped them even. The rumors about him were true; he wasn't going to hide it. He was proud of who he was, what he was. He even made a new set of armor with the colors to reflect his darker nature. The day of the battle started with a bitter morning for him. He felt oddly at peace as a frigid sense of calm washed over him. His bones were cold and frozen as he strolled through the streets of providence, the night dreadful. If only he had stayed home, if only he could have hugged his kids one last time. He went out for a midnight stroll as he was halted by a man who recognized his redesigned guard's armor. He asked Lucius and some other members of the ISA to go look for his friend who had gone missing. The members of his patrol eventually made their way out to the city to the horrid night’s fog that covered the pale moonlight-stricken fields. There Lucius would battle a man he once admired and be slain by the same hands that created so many beauties for him. Lucius’s thoughts throughout the fight were simple; he thought of nothing but the blood shed on the field of battle. The exchanging of strikes from the blade of his opponent in the flow of their Macabre dance. As he took strike and gash he would slowly begin to reminisce about the events of his short life. He would begin to see the faces of his darling sons and daughters, his wife, everyone who he ever loved. Then there fell a most awful silence as he thought no more, he made no sound as he died. As quickly as he began to live, he found his life ended as if a bubble had popped, and thus arrived the end of his story. [!] Lucius had at some point written letters for his beloved family and close friends. His son, Rorik having found them would slowly begin to look for the people and deliver them in the coming days.

Discord tag: AgentofDeath13#8334 Skins: Lady Witcher | Gypsy Dancer Bids: 30 | 35

Discord : AgentofDeath13#6969 Ign : AgentofDeath13 Skin : Augustus - (10usd)