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This is an important guide, I hope players take the time to actually read this.

Redlines should detail limitations of lore. I don't think you should put half the relevant lore in the redlines.

The creation ritual for this piece is incredibly dull and boring.

It'd probably be beneficial to include sections on physiology and behaviour rather than it being haphazardly hidden across creation, hatching and awakening.

Take a good look at this recent lore submission by the player Spindle.

5 hours ago, Barbog said:

Even furless, Tundrastriders stand a chance in surviving cold climates, and they almost always feel quite warm to the touch- making them incredibly useful for their shepherds to sleep amongst.

1 hour ago, KILL_MAPS said:

 

there will be a winner every 2 weeks, that's it, no time limit since i want to give people as much time as they might need and be open for ideas at any point. tho no promises on how quickly the actual items will be made.

 

rly this is just encouragement for people to come give me cool things to make, i will make ur idea for free if i think it's cool, this is just an ic reason to.

This is a cool rp initiative.

I missed the recurring bi-elven-weekly bit, thanks.

A practicing physician welcomes the invitation.

what is the time frame?

Tribute.

Slaves.

Sacrifice.

Strength.

A withdrawn Uruk laments the forgotten.

On the road that lead Celia'nor,

a foreigner's eye had lingered on the passing soul,

obscured by the dismal tinted lense of its birdlike visage.

A brother of honour bristled with rage.

None but the apostate Uruk disrespects the legacy of the very Ancestors they claim to hallow.

A handful of missives were soon defaced with white ochre-paint.

A great piece that is sure to enrich the culture

shartings ur comments are aids to read btw

I would like to see lore include aliases, especially with more uncommon pieces.

I don't like that every character refers to naztherak as naztherak, instead of infernal sorcery, hel magic, demon-casting, or something that doesn't feel scientifically accurate. The common name implies common understanding of things that shouldn't be so casual.

I dread to see every character know this as kani

fair enough

3 hours ago, Titanium430 said:

There is a visual tell to the mutation, wherein when the animal would experience fear - its face would tense, and grow distorted as if intensely angry, it snarling and biting towards available enemy targets.     

I don't think this is it.

You're essentially creating a new alchemical sub-species with intentional temperament and feeding behaviours.

I would suggest the mutation results in any number of: swollen muscles that protrude grotesquely, a significantly darkened coat, change in eye colour (red, white), loss of height, discolouration, loss of colour patches, rancid stench, scabbing, small horns.

The idea being that they are recognisable by some visually defining trait. 

I feel this would benefit from including a minor visible mutation as well, whatever it may be.

The corpse remains unattended in the impoverished Molehill district, Providence.

Unbeknownst to all but their captor, the requestor were immured to the torturous prison that is Hel; thus, to be seen unfaithful by the bounty's claimant.

@A Friend

actually, i can't see any kind of purpose to this except shutting down roleplay. It actually seems detrimental.

Why create an artifact that involves characters doing nothing but holds hands and focuses on nature as their power is shared to completely shut down an event site in such a mundane way? There's no narrative implications or consequences, and the 'preparation' is a pisstake.

Cooldowns are absolutely useless- it's going to generate nothing interesting as druid characters recharge over a week. There's no long term implications except some flowers (if the terrain permits), and that the druidic group are the heroic saviours.

consider something that isn't just getting some druid players to log on, do something, and log off for 10 more months after.

this is lazy

energy beams are lazy and boring.

this scene in legend of korra was pathetic.

surely you can conceive an artifact more engaging than holding an energy beam for 6 emotes

[!] Parchments within Providence & Celianor read:

WANTED DEAD

FOR THE CRIMES OF BANDITRY; INDECENCY; ARCANE ASSAULT; ROBBERY.

MALI'AHERAL; 6'; BLONDE HAIR (NECK-LENGTH); BURN DAMAGE (NECK & FACE); METALLIC LIMB (LEFT ARM); IRIS - DULL GREEN; ATTIRE - BLACK COAT. OFTEN WITNESSED IN CITY OF CELIANOR; PRESUMED RESIDENT OF CITY OF HAELUN'OR.

WARNING: ABYSSAL SORCERER

REWARD: UPON PROVISION OF CORPSE, OR METALLIC LIMB, THEE SHALL BE PROVIDED FIVE-HUNDRED MINA AND ADDITIONAL REWARD (UNDISCLOSED).

TO CONTACT: WITHIN THE BEAK OF A CROW'S CORPSE, IN THE MOLEHILL DISTRICT, CITY OF PROVIDENCE, PROVIDE PREFERRED LOCATION OF BOUNTY COLLECTION.

[[Contact on forums if required]]

its always ooc community leader = irp character leader

i dont like it

The Friar knows the virtue of purity.

A lone orc beneath the same stark moonlight, in those bitter winds, ruminated upon his faith. The uruk subscribed to no belief but his own; his conviction rooted deep in the Immortal Spirits whose domain drew as far as the natural, material and abstract realms. Nevertheless, no doubt nor disbelief were given to the merits of his brothers' beliefs- The Blood Faith, or The Great Ancestors.

It was The Blood Faith's maxim that he considered; “Grizh tu flow… Grizh tu peep…” He could assign no coincidence to the advent of the Haruspex practice and the interpretation of The Blood Faith. Grizh must flow, for the Haruspex to show; Grizh will be seen, for the blind to see. Haruspex; the practice of the Prophet, who shall deliver to all the incontrovertible recognition of the Great Spirits.

The young Uruk were no Prophet; this were not his duty. The zealous brother were a champion of the Spirits; his duty were to ensure the Prophets' duty; to protect and amplify the realm of the Spirit.

((Great writing, love to see this kind of Spirit rp))

BLOOD OFFERING

The wroth Uruk stood among the carnage of bloodlust. Thick, red blood painted the forest’s verdant grass and spattered the great oaks. Carcasses littered the clearing. The doe, the hog, the wolf and the bear. All were blood spilt fresh. The decapitated head of the bear were donned by the Uruk that stood before the blazing pyre. Beneath the pale moonlight, to the crack and pop of wood and coal, he danced to the rhythm of incanting cries. He bellowed invitations to the Spirits. Wooden instruments beat a profound song, calling upon ancestral kin. Amidst the song and dance that appraised the Spirits, the Uruk heaved fistfuls of some strange cap, some fungi found deep in the forest’s recesses. By one he made sacrifice. 

To Leyd he burnt the bear, for the blood invites indomitable strength.  For his people, he cried out a prayer, calling for the blessing of force and vigour. He howled and screeched to the skies and spilt his blood with a crude knife. 

To Freygoth, he sacrificed the doe, for the flesh offers surfeit. He invoked the forest mother and called for bounty and fertility. In the esoteric cries and strange dance, he pledged guard to her domain, and made promise to serve the woodland against misguided kin. 

To Kotrestruu, he offered the wolf, whose spirit is of the pack. He called upon history and asked to the flames a blessing of remembrance. His kin should recall their past tribulations. Many times before they'd been pawns in the contest of Spirits, victim to the deceit of wicked spirits. He prayed that his brothers may remember their history, so they need not make the same mistakes.

In the dark of night, between twisting trees that surrounded the clearing, the Uruk saw obscured faces, glowing eyes, darting forms.  In the bright and vigorous flame, he had almost seen the faint guise of a black eye, watching. He saw some many presences have come to his calling that dare not reveal themselves. Till the sun rose, he danced his strange dance, and sung the songs of Spirits. 

Dawn broke with modest light, as the pyre dulled. Small flames danced as the Uruk did, and one sacrifice remained, its blood dried crimson. “Spirit of Judgement.” He cried out, emboldened by the rising sun, “Spirit of Truth. Spirit of Fear. Spirit of Knowledge.” The Uruk dare not invoke it’s name, yet in great risk called the Spirit for this show. He danced until the flames were mere embers and threw the hog sacrifice on the pile of coals and bones. This body did not burn, for there were no flames, but sizzled lightly on the hot remains. “Latz misguide mi people,” he screamed “Latz fuul mi bruddahs, agh lead dem againzt dah Spiritz, dah way, dah forezt.” He spat upon the hog. “Latz dealz am devlizh, latz promizez am falze, latz truth am liez.” The bloody uruk vowed against the dark spirit and left the carcass in the clearing; to become rotten, and reclaimed by nature.