SethWolf

As a Zar'akal player, I think taking away the one cool thing Azdrazi have is mega lame and uncool.

Sir Titus recieved the missive as he stood guard in the Celosian Palace. As he finished reading it, he left to pen a missive to the High Priest. If he could do any good to ensure the Empire's valiant men and women could return home to their families, it would be where the fighting was thickest.

Insightful. I won't speak on most of the post as it is ofcourse your own personal opinion, but I always thought of the number-requirement and 'applying' to be a nation to be an outdated and silly idea. Nations come from people and the changing of the times. When I first joined, it was pretty mid to mid-late Almaris and one of the most interested places conceptually to me was the Harvest Confederation and its eventual transumation into the kingdom of Aaun. It happened organically, with many other kingdoms and powerful indivuals overseeing the process. There was politics, itrigue, skullduggery, and interested parties all peaking their noses in and influencing this new nation. And it all happened organically. Or atleast, it happened because people roleplayed in somewhere that already existed, and they did not 'ask' a staff team for permission to exist Atleast to my knowledge. This to me is the fundamental core of LotC. I think how this server advertises itself is slightly misleading. A new player should not come into LotC with the intent of creating their own nation, they should come in with the intent of being a part of the narrative that already exists. Nations are created and destroyed in response to what is going on in the now, and that I think is how things should be as a standard.

Titus was not at home when the news came to him. He was in the lands of the West, resting beneath a cherry blossom and dictating a report of his findings of recent darkspawn incursions into that flowery forest from Lichtenwald in the North. And when the runner gave him the news, Titus tilted his head up, looking to the young man acrossed from him as if he'd merely spoken a riddle. "The Emperor, Sir. He has gone from us." A hand reached out, stamped with Hadrian's personal insignia. His letter to his son. Condolences were offered, though no words came back to that man. Titus paused for a moment, and dismissed the runner thusly. He sat back against that tree, looking through the branches. Invariably, he thought of his father. For in truth, he knew in the back of his mind that his Father grew weary of his charge. That nothing would spell his end but by his own hand, no matter how many feckless morons sought to carve his head from his shoulders all these years. His hands finally broke the seal, and he read that letter. Titus had seen a side of his father that perhaps not many in this vast continent had. He'd seen Hadrian as a man born with chains about his ankles. A man who did what he had to not because it was what he wished for, but because it was his duty. None could ever dispute that in his charge he served his empire truly, and would forever be cemented as one of the greatest Emperors to ever live. Yet, then came the pained knowledge that his father would have given it all away, if it meant a chance at a quiet home in some sunny island, writing and singing his songs and poetry. Titus's sadness was pulled away, for he believed that now, perhaps his father would wake up on a white-sand beach with palm trees all around, and know nothing but the silence he'd always dreamt of. The prince stood, and looked over the Western cliffs. Over the vast waves, a soaring eagle flew overhead. With that creature flying so freely, Titus' sorrow went with it, carried on the wind. He loved his father, he always had. Now, he was gone. One day, if the Lord permitted such, they would meet again and leave all the bitterness of politics and the mud of past battlefields behind them. But not today. His father could now finally be at peace. For now, that was enough. He picked up his shield, saddled his horse, and made for Rittersberg.

Hi Eso, I don't really have any unique or interesting questions but I wanted to drop in and say thanks for building my favorite character ever with me. Our times in deguise really made me appreciate non-combative rp and what it could bring.

Prince Titus recieved the missive via a runner as he patrolled the Trostine Woods. As he gazed over the parchment, he gave an approving nod before dissapearing into the thrush, in search of Iblees and his kin.

✠ And so, the war was won. Prince Titus sat beneath that old oak that he and his kin had held as a sacred ground for so long. He remembered that this conflict in one form or another shaped his very youth, going so far back that he could hardly remember a time when he and his people were not at war. Titus had served on all fronts - from the blistering deserts of the Badlands to the very halls of the Grand Kingdom beneath the Mountain. From North to South, East to West, there was likely somewhere he'd done battle. At this point, it all seemed a hazy blur. Now, he was tired. The news of peace should have been some comfort to his mind, but he only felt a gentle sense of thankfuless that now no more blood of his people would be spilled. He thought back to the decade of war, and what it had brought. He'd held men in his arms as they died, prayed for the sick and the wouded, shared drinks and stories with many great men of the Empire, who surely now in death know Glory Everlasting in the Skies above. As the sun broke through the clouds above him and broke its way through the spring branches of that old oak tree, he tilted his gaze up and gave thanks to the Lord that his family were all still alive, and that He saw fit to allow him to live to see the end of it. Now there was only one Emperor of the Continent, and the great peace that he'd so long wished for had been achieved. For the time being, Mankind could walk hand in hand to a new, bold future with nothing limiting the scope of what they could achieve but their ambition. And so, Titus stood up from the ground and scooped up his helm. The war in the south was over, but the war for men's souls would never cease. So long as Iblees still held sway in these lands, he would never know peace. ✠

Issued and averred by the office of the IMPERIAL CHAMBERLAIN Penned by Titus Alexander, & Lady Vivienne Devereux ✠ HEED, LEAL SONS OF HOREN; By the will and authority of His Imperial Majesty, Hadrian I, notice is hereby given of a union ordained. His Imperial Highness, Sir Titus Alexander of House Horen, Prince of Man, and Lady Vivienne of House Devereux are to be joined in holy matrimony within the Celosian Palace upon Aurelian’s Glory in the year 645. All who call themselves subject or friend of our Most Holy Imperium are invited to attend and partake in the celebrations on this most joyous day. The Month of Aurelian’s Glory | Saturday, March 14th The Nuptials | 6 pm EST Within the Throne Room of the Celosian Palace, the Prince and her Ladyship shall be joined in holy matrimony. All in attendance will be asked to bear witness and partake in a ceremony of prayer led by Holy Sir Corswain who shall then solemnize the marriage. The Drake's Melee | 7 pm EST Once the wedding ceremony has completed, all in attendance will be ushered to the imperial tourney grounds wherein all in company will be given the chance to prove their martial prowess in a melee hosted by Prince Titus and Lady Devereux. The grand prize will be two hundred imperial farthings and a custom gorget bearing the imperial insignia. Couriers would be dispatched, dispensing personal invitations to certain parties: AVE IMPERIUM! H V M A N I T A S I N V I C T A HIS IMPERIAL HIGHNESS, Sir Titus Alexander Horen, Prince of The Empire, Knight of the Order of the Red Dragon. LADY Vivienne Beatrice Devereux, Lady of Trier.

Tried to stay pretty objective with this one. (edit) moved jessie higher up because i think he's more interesting than Walt Skylar and Walt are like neck and neck for me but I think her arc albiet more sad than Walt's is elevated by her actress' performance.

"So it seems." Prince Titus thumbed over the missive, relief, gratitude, and joy interlinked acrossed his face.

Malices are chosen by a Cursed Child upon posting their FA, and may not be changed later on except via approved exceptions. Malices should not be changeable, for the same reason Naztherak cannot change theirs. ⛥ Cursed Children are born with [3] Magic Slots, whereas [2] slots are “locked” and may only be regained if dedicated to the following magics (except in the case of MArts or approved exceptions): ⛥ Naztherak ⛥ Druidism ⛥ Shamanism ⛥ Nephilim. I'm 50/50 on the magic slot restriction. If a deific patron could give you your magic slots back, then you could argue they could remove your curse aswell. Naztherak 'lose' their magic slots to the magic because their lord physically takes them from you in exchange for power, and adding it to Cursed Children makes them seem too Naz-adjacent when they have little connection to the magic outside of their curse. I'm leaning more towards removing this. Otherwise, I overall like the changes proposed by this re-write.

Sorry to hear that you're departing the team, you made a lot of great stuff for the server and it was always a joy seeing the notification that a Crunchy plugin just dropped. Hope you can focus on something that brings you more fulfillment. Thanks for all the stuff you did for us. o7

Hubris It should not have happened this way. Kroza’kiiz had the mortal in his clutches. Their life for the taking. He had won. Yet, this Twisted King made one fatal flaw. He was unable to imagine how far one might go to save their soul. Judgement His soul awakened in a nameless void. A black, swirling nothingness that stretched on in infinite horizons in every direction. Here he was neither man nor beast. A formless collection of dark blue embers and infernal flames that gave off no light or warmth. Behind him stood a woman. A hooded wayfarer dressed in silks of azure, boasting a hood that disguised her face. The woman held a shepherd’s cane with a rustic lantern dangling from the hook. A word did not yet escape her. “What is this place?” demanded Kroza’kiiz, his voice ethereal and laced with inherent rage. “Where you were always destined to arrive, Siegmund.” The woman spoke with a displeased cadence, akin to a mother after having witnessed a child do something foolish. She offered no further comment. Kroza’kiiz stewed on that answer for a long moment. He understood. This was death, or some version of it. His enwreathed form outstretched a limb of swirling flames to gaze upon it thoughtfully. What was to happen to him now? Was this annihilation? A form of purgatory? These questions raced in his mind as the hooded wayfarer merely watched him wordlessly tackle these questions of life and death. Though the Tyrant would never admit it, he found a terrible blackness welling up in his chest. A horrible sinking feeling of fear and despair. Taciturn anxiety then turned to desperation as he suddenly snapped out a flaming hand. “Release me from this place.” The woman gave a bemused chuff. “I am not your jailor, Siegmund.” Just to the right of them appeared a simple wooden door of oak. Without question or sense, Kroza’kiiz threw its flaming form towards it, seizing the handle and yanking upon it with all of its might. To his dismay, it refused to budge. Kroza’kiiz could hear something just on the other side. It was a low din, indiscernible yet unmistakable. The angelic songs of the Skies. Waiting just on the other side. A wicked snarl came from Kroza’kiiz as he ferociously threw himself against it. Again, the entryway refused any attempt to negotiate it - no matter how hard he slammed his fists against it, or yanked on the doorknob, or threatened to bash it down… The door remained closed. All the while, the woman watched. “You have to go now.” She finally spoke, “Perhaps we will meet again.” Her mouth twinged down, in a form of deep regret and twisted disappointment. “Goodbye, Kroza’kiiz.” Before Kroza’kiiz could form a retort, a nefarious influence invaded this formless space of nothing. The woman had simply faded from sight as he found a flaming pentacle spinning into existence below his feet. Flaming hands reached out to grab at his soul. He fought and struggled, desperately holding onto the frame of the door until a snapping of wood came from the object, his desperate grip savagely ripping a chunk out of it and sending a cascade of splinters across the formless ground. Kroza’kiiz was dragged down, and down, and down. Straight to Moz’Strimoza. Reckoning Kroza’kiiz’s form fell for days through the endless expanse of the Hells. Past falling continents of alien worlds that had succumbed to Moz’strimoza, through ruins of once proud kingdoms of other planes, and penetrating layers of brimstone and sulfur until his broken form finally slammed against the cold hard floor of his domain. His body was ruined. The fall had beaten and broken nearly every bone in his form, yet his mind was fully intact - unable to censor the pain and powerless to move. Those burning souls that shuffled about his throneroom nearly seemed to mock him with how easily they waddled about past and around him. And in all this time, nothing so much caused him pain than the simple knowledge that for the first time, he was defeated. It did not matter how, or why. The simple irrefutable truth that Kroza’kiiz had failed was like a searing hot brand against this foul creature’s mind. Tortuously he remained there, laying on the floor broken and damned as his soul began the slow process of reconstitution. For so long as he was condemned to remain here, any wayward souls that happened to pass by his domain in this plane of existence would hear the maddened roars and pained cries of a terrible beast, broken and ashamed. Nothing besides remains.

My top 3 of the ones I've had personally are: 1. Naz 2. Seer 3. Blood Magic My Top 3 including all magics are: 1. Housemagic/Bardmancy/Cullimancy 2. Mystics 3. Dj*nn

I really like the magic, it's the first one I ever went all the way with and I had a lot of fun watching my character's journey to becoming a Zar'akal. I'm gunna go over all the 'schools' of Naz and give my quick two cents on them at the end of what I think is good and bad about them. Not going to go anymore in depth than that because I think it's the only part I can give meaningful critique on and I can't be asked to go over it all. Malflame Manipulation: One of the two starting schools of your default Naz. Conceptually, it's awesome. However, it has its problems. Ups: Unlimited flavour. The ability to choose your own aesthetic and 1-emote manipulate it non-combatively is great. Downs: Combatively, it's basically useless unless you're fighting an ST monster that isn't immune to it (this is not exactly common) or you're mogging on some dirt farmer without armour. There are notable exceptions with spells like Rok-dhuurz which for FOUR emotes can reliably make a single dent in someone's armour, or the Vhiit spell which you can use to jam your fingers into someone's helmet visor. In my experience, your first two combative spells (Vhiit and Rok-dhuurz) make up 90% of your malflame spell's usability in actual CRP that isn't between buddies, with the vast majority of other spells being under the category of 'nice to have', but they've never decided the outcome of a fight before in my experience. What I think: I think giving some extra stuff to some of the other spells would be nice. The chain-whip spell for example could be used to hook around pieces of individual armour and yank them off, or you could make the pillar spell a physical object or heat up armour. Something to make me want to actually use the more expensive spells in more fights. Demonology: Again, another conceptually awesome school of Naz. This one however is actually as good as it sounds. You get to summon demons. Ups: You get to summon things. This is always potent, regardless of the magic. The size of your court is well balanced, and honestly from purely the Naztherak's perspective there isn't much to say here but good things. Downs: It might actually be a little too easy to make greater inferi, as others have said. I'm not sure, and honestly I don't think the easiness of making a demon really matters because the majority of people tend to fall off after a couple months of playing one anyway. That said, I wish we could use more of our npc summons in combat at once, as your standard imp is basically monster slop and the hellhound is only marginally better. What I think: I think the problems with this mostly come down to the nature of the CAs that you're giving to people. I've never actually played a Zar'ei, but I've played an Akal. For most people, playing a pure evil character is actually quite taxing, but I've found ways to make my own fun out of it and overall I enjoy it. I don't think there are very many ways to fix this problem, as the people who will enjoy what playing a demon has to offer will probably love it, and those that don't will hate it. That's just the way she goes. Cursing: This one here is kind of a meme - for both good and bad, and it's the first of two schools that require you to permanently use a magic slot to take it. No one chooses this unless they're fully into the larp or because they're trying to go for full Zar'akal and they have to get it by requirement. It also needs to be broken up into two sections because it has two very distinct uses with their own problems. [Cursed Idols]: Ups: The larp potential is on full display here, and some of the curses are outright diabolical and funny to read. The idols themselves are not the problem and are honestly a fantastic component to the spirit of the magic, and I would argue is the only reason someone should take the school. Downs: It basically requires you to only make them for people that you know will oocly play along, as any idol you give has a big fat [THIS ITEM IS CURSED] on the bottom of its description and if you try and trick people into taking it cold turkey, they will about 6 times out of 10 dump it into a chest or /use it after the roleplay has concluded. This is moreso the fault of the nature of LotC than it is the fault of the magic, however. But it IS a massive factor to consider when choosing to take this school. What I think: I think that if you've stuck with a cursed idol for three OOC days, you should have some permanent narrative de-buff that sticks with you forever. A remanent of the curse, if you will. Nothing crippling, just something extra people can use to build a narrative around. Having to re-learn who you are after suffering the full brunt of Desolation or always being a little bit prone to illness after succombing to the curse of Pestilence would make this school have a genuine impact on the players that interact with Naztherak. [Cursed Fire]: Ups: There aren't any, really. Downs: For one extra emote on any combative spell, you can put an aspect of your primary or secondary malice onto your malflame. The effects of these aren't very good, as they're not exactly impactful and they require a full extra emote ontop of a spell that could have already taken you like three emotes to summon in the first place. What I think: This ability's just kind of shit. Either the effects need to be more impactful, or we need that blood magic marriage ammendment that let cursed fire be put on infernal fire rune imbued weapons. This is cool as a concept but in excecution there's literally no reason for anyone to use it. It needs something, because honestly if this got axed in a re-write as is I would not miss it at all. Boons and Banes: This is the second school that requires you to dedicate a spell slot, and it's much more worth it. Ups: You get to be the devil and make deals with mortals in exchange for them experiencing a sliver of your power, but power always comes at a cost. This spell is one of the great examples of a spell that is powerful in presence, but kept balanced by well-rounded redlines and people's general willingness to create a story out of a bad encounter. Downs: The spell itself I have no general problems with. The boons and banes are all pretty good. However, my one gripe is that if a person chooses they can literally just cut off the brand - and that's it! You can take a deal with a devil, and then just decide 'erm this isn't for me' and cut it off. There's literally ZERO lasting consequences for their in-character greed, ambition, or stupidity and they can just walk away and forget about it. I would prefer if they atleast make a secondary deal with the devil to have it removed or something. What I think: I think that Boons and Banes is the stand-out of Naztherak in a good way. When you get it, it serves as a narrative symbol that you're well on your way to mastering the magic and have fully dedicated yourself to the cause as a full fledge Warlock, as you now have a permanent anchor to your infernal Lord. My only gripe is listed above, other than that I have only good things to say about it.

Somewhere deep below existence itself, rested a terrible thing from ages past. All around it were the screams of the souls ensnared by its foul machinations. Each continually burnt with sickly prussic flame that bore no warmth of light against the blackness of its terrible throne of metal and flesh. It held that hallowed parchment between two long claws. It read that name over, and over again. Nickolai Karl Weiss. Nickolai Karl Weiss. Nickolai Karl Weiss. That name rang out in its mind's eye like rusty nails against a board of chalk. Two large saurian eyes scanned the parchment again, and again until the paper began to combust in its grip and sunder itself to ash. The thing's great hand curled into a fist. By what right did this Weiss continue to exist outside of this creature's shadow? By what right did it still claim sovreignity over its own destiny? The creature known now only as Kroza'kiiz rose from that seat of sin, and made its way down a path of twisted, burning souls. For days, it walked to the edge of its domain past endless marshes of black-tar swamps, burning pits of blue hellfire, and acrossed the infinite expanse of bare black ash that made up the soil of this wretched place at the very bottom of Moz'strimoza. It now stood before an altar of oily black stone, a structure that resembled two branches of twisted roots that would form a gate. There, it lofted a scaled hand. Upon silent command, a whirling portal of hellfire tore itself into existence. A small pinprick in the fabric of the Realms. On the other side: the green, vast expanse of Azuras. Nickolai would come to find that it would not be death that came knocking for him, but something far worse. Eternity. It stepped inside. The hunt was on.