sincerelyE

For real, monster hunting keeps servers alive. Nothing is more dope than going full witcher/bloodborne on some NPCs. And it doesn't have to be this huge dragon where half of the playerbase goes on boring scouting events and then something out of their control kills the monster in the end. Smaller encounters where a group of 2-5 folks deal with the problem immediately can be plenty of fun, too. And there's so many ways characters can get stuff out of it - for some it may be healing rp/trauma, some might go around telling stories of how they killed a beast and pawn off their teeth, so on and so on.

The whole gate thing has been jarring ever since I gave LotC a try. You have such a massive playerbase, inviting the ability for people to hop on whenever, even on Euro/Aus times, and have enough people to roleplay with. That is not something any other mcrp server has, yet... ... The gates and the ever looming concern of mcpvpers. Too many times now I've spent 30ish minutes checking several towns, found them closed up, and logged off. There's only so much time I can allocate out of my day to roleplay - if 30 mins of that is spent (sometimes unsuccessfully) finding that roleplay, then most days I just won't bother at all. When I first joined a year ago, I thought about writing up a post about how the coexistence of mcpvp and roleplay harms the latter and keeps the upper echelon of quality roleplayers either away from the server entirely or, if they are on this server, they're huddled up in little pockets in order to guard themselves from being forced into a faction server experience. I ended up not writing the post, because I thought I'd be shouting into the void of a largerly mcpvp-oriented server. But now, reading the posts on this thread, it seems to me that people do want some sort of changes. Maybe it's time to pull a m******craft and make a separate ecosystem entirely for the pvpers, giving opportunity to abolish the jarring pvp defence systems like ugly city walls and hell, even allow roleplayers to be the ones to shape the outcome of politics and major conflicts. I understand this might be a completely outrageous take by LotC standards still, but it's been at the back of my mind for an entire year, so I might as well lay it out.

Esther reads the letter over several times, glance lingering 'pon the mention of her name. Not before taking a long drag from a pipe, she takes the parchment and hangs it on the cupboard's side in her kitchen - with utmost care - alongside doodles and other treasured memorabilia.

i would take paladinism so i can fight @christman in a parking lot

A long dead paladin finger-guns Alatáriel from the Lion's palace.

Who you as a person are shouldn't matter at all in roleplay, that's sort of the point! I think you should totally go through with your idea. As for this specifically - I think you'll actually find these experiences to be positive, especially if it's anyone you're befriended/care about. That's been the case for me at least - when folks I've been roleplaying with for some time find out I'm a dude, their surprise is to do only with how woman-like my women characters are, wherein they didn't expect me to be a man. But that sort of ties into what others have said on this thread, who your character is matters. Gender is just one dimension of a character. Being thoughtful in your character design is what people will remember about you - if they're auverginian/french, for example, folks will be more happy with you if that part of the character is also a full dimension, not just oui oui and bonjour phrases thrown in.

aw man here i go again with my temptations to get involved in things (but really, nicely written piece)

pog

Vanessa stood upon the battlements of that very castle which had heralded the infinitely resounding chimes and light. She stood alone, cloak wrapped about her with clutched hands. Her memories - they dwelled on a distant monastery. "The realm is much more than you ever warned me of, old teachers," her hushed voice was eaten up by the high winds, "And yet - I've never felt more alive than right here, tonight. If I am not meant to be a weapon, please - tell me so. I beg of you."

Orc is the only one I really couldn't manage, I think. Every time I'm as little as faced with their language it knocks all flow of roleplay out of me as I'm trying to activate brainpower I don't have to make sense of what's being said. So attempting to write it would be even more difficult, I imagine. Props to those who can manage it, though. I've recently come to wonder if it's something to do with me learning writing/reading english first and only years later learning speech, very slowly, via discord calls. I don't seem to have the ability to read pronounciation.

A few people have already mentioned this, at least @argonianbegan his post with it from what I can see, but I'd like to put extra emphasis on this as a relatively new person. The only thing I'd want is clear navigation assistance. If there are no hubs, this becomes even more pertinent of an issue to me. Currently, the signs aren't always reliable. Urguan is the only nation where you'll have a sign saying CAPITAL THIS WAY at every turn and fork of the road, all the way from CT to the entrance of the city. Other signs sometimes will have old names. Sometimes signs will have the names of their cities/settlements, even when the only name used on a common basis OOCly and ICly is the name of the nation, thus leading to confusion. Sometimes a sign pointing to a city or nation will lead to a two-road split with no way of indicating which is the correct way at all. Please, don't make me go through this again on a new map. It's entirely likely I'm in some sort of minority of actual navigational issues, but from my perspective it really feels like this, along with the walls/gate-checks is so damaging to the current city roleplay activity state.

A note/letter was pinned to the original missive. "To the esteemed ser Flamius, Your faith is your own; no organisation or a strayed mortal soul can break that. Keep your local church tidy if it gathers dust, make sure to keep the water for passerbys clean and the bread - fresh. There is no better perseverance for hallowed souls than action. My best regards, "

Vanessa stood after finishing up sharpening her blade and headed for Urguan's armoury. Surely, she could find more blades to sharpen to blank-space the mind for the day from Astark's voices still ringing in the ear.

The fire from the pit grew to surround the paling woman, eating away at the room’s light and darkness alike until it had the means to envelope her shackled form and submerge it below ground. Each of her breaths were dryer than the one before and only caused the nerve-killing blaring noise in the ear to become all the sharper. Vanessa hoped to press her hands in the small of her back to at least keep the stance of a soldier, as elders expected of her, but connecting hands to back only alerted her of more searing pain as the burning temperature of the hands heated the back, and the back heated the hands. The blonde were only left to wonder whether it was a second or a hundred years that had passed when it all came to settle into… nothingness. Her body was entirely scorched to bits and reincarnated someplace else, yet she still kept her eyes shut, fearing what sort of place might unveil if she dared. Is this what absolution felt like? But, a familiar hum making its way through Vanessa’s conscience as the blaring static faded made her snap her eyes open. And there it was - the muddy, shit-odour emitting courtyard she’d missed so much. If it weren’t for her dry throat and aching muscles, she’d probably managed some tears. Her attention snapped to the monk pushing the wheelbarrow. “Brother Elias?” The wheelbarrow stopped. The old monk carried his attention Vanessa’s way, and though his hum faded, in its stead came a warm smile. His age and the sun alike had dried his skin much more so than Vanessa remembered. “Silverhand. Your task, does it go as we expect?” She hesitated. “The mortal realm is so different outside these walls.” “But your task?” Another pause. “As expected.” “Then quell your uncertainty. We have given you the means to understand the realm. There are no shortcuts. You know this.” “But the things I have experienced and witnessed - there is not always a root of reason to be pulled at. Mortals seem to find any excuse to rally against other mortals.” “Then you will adapt as necessary. Your will remains and your task is ahead. You cannot be everywhere, that is true, but it only means uncertainty is something you cannot afford.” A somber smile made its way across the blonde’s features. She seemed to be digging for something more to say, reasons to stay longer, but the dry throat and the sharp pains in her veins made clarity especially difficult to upkeep. “You have to go now, Silverhand. Do not look back.” Vanessa closed her eyes just a moment to try and phase out the pain. “You know, I met another Elias–...” But the burning feeling of her own blood was much too much to bear. Vanessa rose to her feet and ran along the courtyard, bashing through the door and the corridors to look for some sort of cooling salves. A heavy door ahead – that must be it - the blonde ran right for it, pushing arms out to strike it open while still moving - but the doors were heaved open by guards on the other side, and so Vanessa fell tumbling into the hall with groaning cries. The marble floor was so cool and soothing to the touch that the young Silverhand found herself grovelling, bent forward. The soft, god-fearing mutters of the peasants in their rough-spun clothing, thankfully, didn’t make Vanessa look too much out of place - like her, there were a dozen or so folk scattered across the hall all bowing to the throne ahead. Vanessa opened her eyes and studied the man on the throne - a gold crown, a faceless maw, dusty garb like he hadn’t left the seat in millenia. A servant by each hand, powdering it and rubbing the rings over the fingers to make the royal hands spotless. Perhaps to make them look immortal. One of the peasants, an old crone, pushed Vanessa ahead in the queue to not waste time and make her concerns heard. With a spluttery breath, tumbling over her own limbs, Vanessa fell before the throne and hunched forward, even if it made new pain seep into the spine. From this close, the blonde saw the servants’ true work - powdering away to hide the blood on the hands. “Your Majesty.” The king tilted his head. “I come to ask the root of Your conquests. The reach for vassals, the calls to battle. What drives this?” “The strength of our lands and people must always be heralded.” “But why clash with others? Why not stay and defend, guard? There are cults abound, people with malign truths who’re picking on souls. In the chaos and pain created by war, these cruel, forlorn folk lose faith and turn to fighting only for themselves.” “Should I lower myself in the hallowed waters, then, and carry the burdens of the weak until a blade pierces me, sending my scent to the sharks of the below? No. The nation will hunt the sharks before they have a chance to do wrong. And the nation will hold its reign to keep pillaring the realm. Any those who come in the way of that will face true power. Your thirst for some kind of utopian justice is making me nauseous. Get out of my halls.” Vanessa tried to push out her best words to protest, but the guards at the door had made their way forward and grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her away to a side door and chucked her right through. The tumble into the well and the cavern below felt like its own eternity - the pitch-black darkness of the descending tunnel made the trip all the more disorienting. The paladin-to-be woke to a new set of hands on her shoulders, pushing her to remain kneeled, even more aggressively than the royal guards. Vanessa fought for her breath more so than anything else as the dryness never subsided, but she also pulled her head up to peer through the blurry gaze. Darkness receded a little, but the room was still very dim. The blonde couldn’t recognise the figure across - the outfit was very unassuming, just like the hooded figures lined up behind them, and the features blurry and ever changing, as if the figure morphed into a new, fractured soul every passing moment. Yet, there was an odd certainty in Vanessa. “You’re Astark.” The mystical figure didn’t care much for Vanessa’s acknowledgement. It spoke its piece, as if Vanessa was a fading afterthought. “Time is ticking, maleficar. The power you grab, that which fills you with unreason and hatred, it will mow down your warped brethren, as well as those who’ve you as little as come to know, and the loved ones of theirs, too.” “I’ve never done anything to you.” “But you will. And it will cost you dearly.” Astark tilted its hooded features to look somewhere to the far wall. Vanessa followed that intent gaze and found a priestly looking woman dressed in white with amber eyes. Her mouth was sewn shut with rough thread, but despite this horrific injury, she seemed to be smiling with her shiny eyes in best efforts to give Vanessa some kind of reassurement. The woman’s hands held tightly on to a… mountain flower? “Edelweiss?” Vanessa asked quietly, as the flower was the only thing she could recognise. The mute woman was otherwise completely unfamiliar, yet Astark believed she was somehow connected to the paladin-to-be. Or so it seemed. Was this all a game? Vanessa turned her head to speak up against Astark, but a sharp pain in her neck left her mouth agape. She could feel the blood spew everywhere while Astark held on to the hilt of the dagger with an unceremonious, blank expression, soon fading out of view entirely. She woke up all spluttery, with ragged breaths. One hand clutched her chest, the other touched along the neck to feel the phantom pain from the stab. It happened a second time. And again, she couldn’t do anything about it. After finding an extent of balance, she stood, pushing her dry eyes open to look around the pitch black hall, only to find a single light source. Surrounded in sapphire mists, there he was. The Lion. Stubs wrapped in bloody sashes for wings - or rather mostly lack thereof. Even wingless, the Lion managed to look majestic as ever, with the mists swirling around him like planets around stars. He graced Vanessa with a heavy look to his azure eyes. Feeling rather out of place, clueless, and pained as ever, Vanessa fell to one knee. She ended up in a similar hunch as during her encounter with the faceless king, but this was much less mortally-forced. This time, it was simply meant to be. “How do I address you?” “It does not matter, Silverhand.” “May I pose a question?” The Lion kept silent. His features were mostly blank, but his gaze - observant. Present. “Some of the mortal souls, those who paladins have sworn to protect - they’ve lost faith in the paladins. With the paladins devoting their years to chasing targets like the dragonkin to fierce extent and relentlessness, it is difficult for me to promise the observant that your guardians still have clarity. Do you expect me to conform to defeat their perceived threats, or stand in their way to assure they do not step out of line?” “You have come here to have me dictate your act for you, Silverhand? I am disappointed. So would be your elders.” Other than the everlasting backdrop of dryness and searing pain, Vanessa felt a whole new hardship wash across her - embarrassment. “I never meant-” “But you did. You do not hold the capability to separate your thoughts and your words - you never did. I will speak only once on this matter: like you, the paladins are driven by will, not my directive. If you are to be one of them, you will carry on exactly as you have, instead of asking me your supposed path. As for what this means for you and for the other paladins - we will see, won’t we?” Vanessa collected herself, tears pushing to the edges of her eyes for the pain and the woman in the cellar. “Can I ask one more question?” “The woman in white? Your soul knows her, even if you do not. Astark felt her when tampering with your soul, and decided to use her as a weapon. But if there is one thing I plead you to remember - loneliness is not your strength. Trust in those you love, instead, and do not let them be masked into weapons.” These answers gave the young paladin-to-be even more questions. But the pain and flame within begin to weigh on her further - she couldn’t even keep her consciousness intact, let alone open her mouth to ask anything else. The sapphire mist was the only thing she could still make sense of, though she was rather unsure if they were truly Xan’s or rather Alatariel’s.