HandsomeFloppa

I don't think its necessarily meant to be tracked, just that they're meant to be relatively rare

Proverbs 28:1 "The wicked run when no one is chasing them"

okay

a majority of the playerbase did not want this.

food will affect all players some players play ghosts food will affect ghosts come on

yes yes its a commonly known fact, ghosts have to eat, yes. they have to eat to survive, yes yes.

"I am no historian" brother this is something I'd expect to come right out of a historical journal or smth, great job!

a mechanic alongside another mechanic which completely circumvents it. that's like 1 + 1 - 1

if p2.) and p4), the plugin is useless, and it inhibits the non-infidels' ability to have fun (PVP goons) >you give someone an illness >you give them the cure why give them the illness to begin with

I am so sorry Turbo_Dog, I was very inconsiderate and I apologize. I hope you can forgive me, and if you can't, I will respectfully leave the server so I do not continue to offend you. Again, I am extremely sorry, and I promise that I will work on my impulsive comments.

holy ad hominem "u have no life so you can't have an opinion" brother have you ever heard of logic? the plugin adds nothing but an extra step, an inconvenience. why would it matter if food rots or no? who is out there actively RPing eating bread from idk, 50 years ago?

Illustratio “Come here, and pray.” “How often?” “As often as your feet can make the journey.” It happened in the old land. Into a town he had not yet visited, Siegfried had stumbled, the blind fool quite wary from the preparations for the voyage. His dreams had been littered with strange visions, of a land far away, and of a strange man, each time, looking different, but still evoking the same emotion in Siegfried. Awe. Every vision differed. He was on a mountain, one night, the next, on a ship. But always, as though it had been commanded, the man appeared in the distance, and in a short time, reached Siegfried. And each time, this figure made a strange sign over him, raising his right hand with three fingers, the thumb, index, and middle fingers, pointed towards heaven, and the other two, towards the earth. This hand was raised to Siegfried’s forehead, and a small plus sign was drawn, then lowered to his chest, and another cross drawn there, after which the hand returned to the forehead, drawing the second and final cross there. And each time, this ended the vision. But another strange thing was, the number 33 always showed up somehow. At times, it was the amount of money he had on him. Other times, he was a sheppard, and it was the number of sheep he tended to. It would be an understatement to say, Siegfried was in a perpetual state of confusion and awe. And interestingly enough, his albino cat, the one his ‘Lord’ sent him, was never present. Not a single time. He was not a smart man, by any means, but easily, he could deduce, these visions were not sent by this ‘Lord’, to whom he had attributed his faux-vision, but to another figure. Soon after this revelation, he would conclude that it was the man who continued appearing in his dreams and visions, who must be his patron. And yet he could not contemplate for long, this mystery of his, as his prayer was interrupted. “Get up.” Was he being robbed? In any case, he complied. It was better to lose what little he had, than his life. “I do not have much.” “I do not care. Get on the horse.” “What do you want from me?” “...” He did as he was told to. And off they rode! Where? God only knew, and the man, perhaps, though it did not seem so at first. After about an hour of riding, they arrived at the ruins of a mystic settlement, now engulfed by a volcano. I shan’t detail the entire conversation, for it should bore you to death, but it went similar to this. The man asked why Siegfried was blind. The response was given freely. The man asked about anger towards the assailant. Siegfried most definitely had a lot of that. The man went to depart, then, leaving Siegfried in the cold, alone, blind. And their discussion was ended with the aforementioned dialogue: “Come here, and pray.” “How often?” “As often as your feet can make the journey.” The man heeded these words. Often, after this meeting, he took up that journey, and becoming a pilgrim, visited the site at least twice in each week, and spent time there, in contemplative prayer. Many times, these bouts of prayer resulted in visions, each time, the focus shifting more and more to the mysterious figure. It was not long, perhaps a couple months at most, after the initial encounter, that this contemplation gave Siegfried a little more clarity, not yet understanding, but accepting his calling. And when he began realizing what this calling was, a strange thing happened. There he sat, upon the mountain, near the hot magma, in deep prayer. What was the meaning of these visions? Why 33? What is that sign, which the man made over him? And, as though revealed to him by God directly, he understood - these questions were not meant to be answered, yet. He should place his faith in whoever it was, sending them, that he should one day understand, or perhaps fulfill them. Slowly, he felt less of his weight upon the ground. And, inevitably, his feet left the ground, and the whole of his body was above the ground by around a foot. Siegfried did not notice. He was too deep in prayer to acknowledge it, and there were none to observe him, nearby. And yet it happened, Siegfried was levitating. After a couple minutes, as Siegfried came to the end of his prayer, this strange phenomenon subsided, and he was gently lowered to the ground, and when he came to, from the trance, he did not know what went down. But he descended the mountain a new man, with newfound faith and trust in whom he could only name God.

“When you come back begging, kneel.” -Otto Radomavic When vampire-kind gathered once more, in a vineyard ‘pon a hill, the discussions began. How to organize themselves, what to make of the other covens, goals, and, importantly, defense. When such a topic had arisen, one Vampire had a suggestion. The Blood Knights of yore were dreaded warrior-Vampires, it would serve the society better if they were reorganized, and reinstated. There was some bickering, then, over internal politics, but in the end, the Son of the Most Revered Vukosav arose as a leader and Elder, creating what is known today as The Midnight Society. In this, he had given to the most experienced Vampires, his, and his father’s friends, the right to lead a coven. Otto Radomavic was a great supporter of both this, and the reinstating of the Blood Knights, seeing as he had quite some experience in waging war. During his time as a necromancer, he had waged war against the Silasians, which prompted the High Pontiff to call for the Silver Crusade. His defeat at the tower was due singularly to the cowardice of his allies, and yet it did not break his spirit, for the war ended in a victory for him, anyhow. Thus, he founded the Legion Eternal. The Hierarchy of the Legion Eternal is divided into two parts, each divided further: the Aristocracy, and the Common folk. -At the top of the hierarchy is the Sovereign, who bears the name of Otto Radomavic. He is the founder of the coven, and thus, leads it with the help of the Aristocratic class. -Serving as the right-hand of the Sovereign, is the Legate. This role is reserved for only the Sovereign's most trusted advisor. The Legate is responsible for leading the coven in the absence of the Sovereign, and, when he is present, to act as his enforcer. -The Higher Vampires of the coven are named Centurion. These nobles are given the right to propose new schemes, and carry out attacks when such is approved by the Sovereign or the Legate. They are responsible for managing the lower vampires, providing them with gear, rations, and distributing their pay. This, in turn, gives them the right to withhold payment from certain individuals, should they break the law. It is to note, only the higher Vampires are allowed to join the Aristocracy. The common folk are comprised of three parts, as well, and they are as follows: -The most senior Vampires, most often, in waiting to ascend to Aristocracy, are called Signiferi, or Standard-bearers. When the Sovereign calls for a large-scale attack, He wishes to show off his forces, and the Signiferi are given the privilege of carrying the Sovereign’s colors. These vampires are often given shields, as well, which bear the Coat of Arms of the Sovereign. This rank begins receiving pay, as well. -The second highest role a lower vampire can achieve is that of Legionaire. These are the fighting vampires, the common soldiers. They receive lodgings, gear, and rations, and they heed the commands of their superiors. -The lowest rank within the Legion is that of Initiate. These are often young vampires, and in some cases, can even be simple cattle, who wish to join. They have not proven themselves to the Aristocracy yet, thus, they are given neither pay, nor lodging, gear, or lodgings. The Lex Legionis is the law of the legion, to which all are held, bar the Sovereign, who enforces the law according to his judgement. In matters of law, he is judge, jury, and executioner. The law is as follows: I. Do not harm your fellow vampire, for he is your brother. II. Do not challenge your fellow vampire, without the Sovereign’s permission, lest it should end in the death of one or both. III. Heed the word of your superior, unless it should break the Lex Legionis. IV. Hold fast to the Precepts of the Society, for even your Sovereign does so. V. Do not lay down your weapon in combat, lest your honor should leave you along with your blood. VI. Hold fast to your station, and perform your duties to the utmost of your abilities, lest you should grow idle and wither. The punishment for breaking these laws is up to the Sovereign, and in his absence, the Legate. Small transgressions may be handled by Centurions, and in their absence, even the Signiferi, however, anything beyond a careless mistake should be handled directly by the Sovereign or Legate. A law is considered broken when it is intentionally disobeyed, with full knowledge. If any of these two should not be present, a Centurion or a Signifer can discipline the Legionaire as they see fit. A mighty army must look mighty. Otto knew this, and thought to improve his soldiers’ armor. How did he do that? Well, since he knew blood would be spilt by his minions, he thought to make the armor red, however, as it would turn out, the coating would fade, and after a battle, start to chip off. The solution? Make the iron itself red. Thus, when forging armor, he added a pint of blood to the iron in its liquid state. This not only gave the armor a deep red color, but also accidentally strengthened it, as the carbon within the blood fused with the iron to create steel. Thus, it had become a tradition, that when a vampire should forge his first piece of armor, he should add a pint of his blood to it.

Awesome

auric oil is already common knowledge

I could make you a sorvian character if you'd like!

"What a bunch of lies... I only killed one old man, and he was never found! And I only turned a single person, not two!" The Vampyr about whom the missive was written spoke, to no one, presumably, but himself. And what he spoke was true! The Empire had tagged onto him crimes which were not his. He took delight and pride in them, though. He had a guard to kill, after all, and this reputation suited him just right!

dwarves are small, realistically they'd be harder to hit. or you know. we could remove pvp

Word made Flesh You wake up to the sound of water. You are next to a river. In the river, stands a figure, whose features you cannot make out, only that he has long hair, and is pointing to the sky. You go closer. He looks at you. You notice - he is blind. “Behold!” He blurts out, and points behind you. You turn around. “Behold! GOD sends another!” You are blinded by the light which shines upon you from above. For a minute, you are completely blind. Then you notice, descending from above, a man wearing a blindfold. He was dressed simply, in the monastic style. “Hark! I send my Word to you. What I speak, he declares.” Thus spoke a voice from above. God declared such. The Prophet landed in the water. The other - the one who greeted you - speaks thus: “Behold, the Word of God!” . .. … You wake up.

I feel attacked.

Oratio ad Infernum “Ne derelinquas me, Domine.” prayed the man in his desperation. But what tragedy befell him, that he should pray for thus? It happened thus. Siegfried, in his desperation for power, contacted some Barrowlord, for he did not know that the wretched being did not take kindly to those who serve the Infernal. Thus, the clueless fool met this being, in the abandoned city of Celia’nor, where the two started talking. After the Barrowlord inquired about Siegfried’s reasoning as to why he despised the Empire, the young warlock revealed, the Empire’s men unraveled some scheme of his, and thus, his teacher had to move. The Barrowlord questioned further, and, willingly, the warlock gave up the fact that, through some unforeseen events, he had come in contact with the Infernal, and started to harness its power. This was not taken too kindly by the Barrowlord, and as such, it had set out to kill our poor warlock. A fight was put up, as expected, but all in vain, as the Barrowlord held powers which Siegfried could not even fathom, and thus, he was knocked down. The warlock was then offered death, or to give up his grimoire, which he treasured greatly, alongside either his sight, or hands. In truth, Siegfried was somewhat of a coward, perhaps, or he had seen some advantage to staying alive, even with such a wretched existence, and thus he chose to give up the book, along with his sight; a decision he later came to regret, as you shall see soon. If such a fate was not enough, the Barrowlord only served to worsen the poor man’s destiny, by carving the word ‘M A L E F I C A R’ on his forehead. Desperation. Using a stick, somehow, most definitely with the providential help of his Lord, the warlock managed to wander into the desert, into the small town of Ipanema. There, his teacher greeted him. Siegfried’s world was clouded with desperation, he felt as though his life had ended at that moment. He could not see. No sight meant he could no longer read from his grimoire, which was gone as well. Thus, he was now even more useless, or at least, felt like it, than before. He asked his teacher to help him, at the very least, with the word on his forehead. His teacher, however, could only think of the most barbaric way to repair it; her solution was to burn the man’s head, thus, in place of the word, leaving a nasty scar. For this, luckily, the teacher was gracious enough to put the man into a deep slumber, using Nightsap tea. He then asked his teacher to allow him to stay in her house, for he possessed none, to which she agreed. Thus, the wretched man was safe, at least for the time being. After some days of wallowing, grieving the loss of his sight, he was reminded of the words of his teacher, who had told him, prior to these events, that, apparently, some High Lord of Hell had claimed his soul. Thus, he had someone to barter with, to pray to, for surely, God would not hear his pleas. He was not accustomed, however, to Demon worship, thus, he knelt before the Cistern, and compiled a prayer, which he would then recite, over, and over, and over again. “Miserere mei, Domine, qui animam meam protegit, et dona mihi visionem, Dominum.” Thus he prayed, from the moment he woke, until the moment sleep overcame him. After months and months of this, and no help, no comfort from his Lord, not even a sign that his prayer was heard, Siegfried fell into even deeper desolation. “Ne derelinquas me, Domine. Da visionem mihi, O Domine.” He pleaded. No answer. “Anima mea suspice, Domine! Tuus sum in aeternum!” Bribery did not work, either. Siegfried wept. He recalled and recited the words of the burial sequence, praying thus into the void, which did not respond: “Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? Quem patronum rogatorus? Oro supplex et acclinis, cor contritum quasi cinis…” He knew not what else there was to plead, or to whom. He had no patron willing to help him. He felt lost. From the heart, then, came his final prayer. It was not dressed in fancy language, nor in words of praise. In Common, he prayed thus, ultimately: “Help me, whoever hears me. For I shall surely perish.”

"Templars are stinky" Said some vampire probably idk