Rig

"Poor Sulcelia," noted the silhouette of a tall Elven man to an erstwhile companion a few hours after the sacrificial rite. "I would have rather not seen it come to this."

Alas, Sul was dead, as was Rhys. All that remained was Vriza. And no one would be enough to save these bottomfeeders from their fate. EPLEIADES IS REWARD DEVIOUSCHUNGUS IS TARGET BATCHI DIES

• ──────────────────────── 𖤐 ──────────────────────── • Evolution That forbidden world which mirroreth thine own. Hell, the Primeval Plane, where the Five Pentacle Lords dwell. The Lord is my shepherd; he leadeth me on the true path to liberation. Beneath arid red skies, ye shall want not. Thou shalt transform and be rendered into the transcendental shape. Iblees, thy Daemon of Salvation. For it is Ruin that entreateth new life. Temptation provoketh curiosity; curiosity instilleth innovation. In the ancient times, your people turned away from God, and became supplicants to false idols. However, I will elucidate you – God is one, innumerable, and dwells within us all. This world is merely a theater by which the strong are judged morally virtuous and the weak are those who cave in to their basest instincts. I know for you Druids, your basest instincts include ego, sloth, and dogmatic conservatism that clouds your judgement even in the face of overwhelming odds. You are given a chance to acknowledge the Lord God. Place a large shrine to the Creator within your groves, and you shall be spared torment at my hands. I beckon to you with the only laws that you understand, tooth and claw, and let the sins of the father not be the sins of the son. Together, we shall build a better world. As the day of the Great Interdiction nears, drastic upheaval shall reshape the world, we shall redress the crimes of the Aenguls, and yours shall be spared – so long as you recognize that the Lord God has no peer, and place Him before your idols first. You have one year. Fail to acquiesce, and the Bear Mani will merely be the first in our long crusade. Signed, His Majesty ᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ, ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɪxʀɪꜱ

(Kairn and Kaz Ithelanen, by @trinn c. 2019). Song "Who am I?" The One-Eyed Coyote sat on the edge of the hill and bore witness to one last sunset. In the distance, the Bear Mani clashed with the trees. It had been some time since the former King of the Dominion of Malin had been a person. Flesh, living blood, and not an animal. However, as he died, it dawned on him. I am Kairn. With that, Brother Leatherback passed on to the Eternal Forest. Fate was awfully cruel, dictating that such a man would go to paradise, but such was the way of the world. Hundreds, if not a thousand, people killed under his command. Cities sacked, villages razed, men and women killed. As Kairn awoke, it was like the same day when he was cast out of the sky by Malchaediel. A humiliating defeat, one that left him so awestruck that he turned into a Coyote for much of the rest of his natural life. One of the founders of the Ichorian Way alongside Valor, Kairn was likewise responsible for the proliferation of Blood Magic amongst the Druids. Though, arguably, Leatherback was always a Draoi. An Ish'urkal - Dark Shaman - who learned Druidism and wielded sanguine Hemomancy as a belligerent crutch. Called the Green Wizard by the humans, Kairn had lived much of his life alone, and forsaked violence in his later years to make peace with his immoral past as a war criminal. Though he had always craved peace, it was fate that he would always wage war, and some tragedy always brought it to his doorstep. "Owl?" He greeted his old teacher with surprise before he gazed upon this new, unfamiliar world. Veni, Vidi, Vici. "I came, I saw, I conquered!"

Good luck! I hope you settle things and feel better.

Within the halls of the Demon King, there echoed the laughter of Vriza and Skulltaker.

"Love is love," said Inquisitor Germanicus to Inquisitor Aysenur.

• ──────────────────────── 𖤐 ──────────────────────── • ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇꜱᴛᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ɢʀɪᴢʜᴇᴄ ʀᴀɢᴜᴋ, Hark, you have been accepted, and once you arrive at the Black Church you shall receive your official training in the Dark Arts. Be proud, for few are considered qualified enough to pass this rigorous acceptance process. Signed, His Majesty ᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ, ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɪxʀɪꜱ

• ──────────────────────── 𖤐 ──────────────────────── • ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ, Hark, Vriza doth seek two students to be taught in the Forbidden Arts. This is a contract binding in perpetuity – in exchange for power, thou shalt pledge thyself to the Dark Lord. In this war waged against the Stag Lord, we have need of loyal representatives who are capable of astute critical thinking, analysis, and quick-time responses. The training shall last approximately sixteen years and shall cover Basic Demonology, Malflame Practice, and thou shalt be immersed in the culture of the False Princes. It should be duly noted that upon contracting thyself to the Hells, thou shalt be trading physical strength for a caster's weakness. Mental health problems are oft a side effect of wielding such awesome power, comparable to fits and delusions caused by controlled substances. Bear well in mind that tying thy soul to the High Hells is almost impossible to undo – the pursuit of higher power is not without its cost. Seek thou out Legion General Skulltaker at the Black Church if thou art interested. All spies and traitors shall be terminated. Those who fail to uphold the contract shall be put to death. Signed, His Majesty ᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ, ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɪxʀɪꜱ

The Demon King remembered the sight of trees burning in the grotto. Swarmed by Inferi and Blood Druids, the grotto was shattered. The Falchion of Malchaediel stolen. Zap! He shifted into his False Prince body with relative ease, exiting a plume of smoke and shattered stone, before he felt malflame travel the tip of his finger. The electric fel-flame shot in a ball from his hand and razed the final tree to cinders. The smell of burning wood did not linger. A soul was burning; it shrieked with fear and disdain, before wallowing in despair and disappearing. Vriza almost felt a bit of guilt. In his mortal shape, he was capable of as much, but he was still warped by his own malice. His greed drove him here, and he knew that these feckless creatures would have tried to kill him too. The brief feeling of regret at killing something so beautiful disappeared as his form briefly turned to stone, and he emerged from that shell the Demon King once again. Years later, he heard rumors of the death of a Druid, but he knew not if it was one of his allies from that day. I hope not, the Demon King resolved. We have a great need for sorcerers. While he could not possibly know, Vriza anticipated that the cost incurred by that invasion would not be paid by him. In quiet, he resolved to assist the Blood Druids should their foes seek them out, because their Blood Magic was useful to him.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི N O R A N ’ L E H C A U R O H 16th of The Deep Cold, 273 S.A. · · ──────────────────────── ·✶· ─────────────────────── · · Iɴ sᴜɴʟɪᴛ sᴋɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍɪsᴛɪɴɢ ᴘɪɴᴇs, Wʜᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴜsᴛʏ ᴄʀᴀɢs ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ʙʀɪɴᴇ, Dɪᴅ ɴᴏʙʟᴇ sᴏɴɢ ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ Mᴀʟɪɴ’s ᴇᴠᴇ, Aɴᴅ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇ, Wʜᴇʀᴇ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴠɪɴᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘs ᴡᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀᴇᴅ sᴛᴏɴᴇ, Dᴡᴇʟʟᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍɪɢʜᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴏɴᴇ, Wʜᴇɴ ᴅᴀᴡɴ ᴍᴇᴇᴛs ᴅᴜsᴋ ɪɴ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴇ, Aɴᴅ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡᴇᴅ ɴɪɢʜᴛFᴇɪɴᴅ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ Fʟᴇᴇ, Fᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴍᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴘ, Fɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴇᴡᴇʟ ᴏF ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀsᴛ asul’acaele ehya’ame, tennallar alonn lomi’lareh alonn oment, laureh len Malin’leh ker’ante leyun tuva wynn myumier paronn talareh lyu lenti ohn vuln, oem malaurir ceru sohaer lin, ker par’karinah barbu ame oment, nae ael'barbu sulier ma'narn, ellinoronn narn vallum’ne yuln’leh elanih talisul · · ──────────────────────── ·✶· ─────────────────────── · · Cɪᴛʏ ᴏғ Sᴏʟɪᴛᴜᴅᴇ Caras Siol Within the deepest region of the Ilharcress woods sits the elven city of Caras Siol, the jewel capital of Caurost. Borrowing the loanword “Caras” from the ancient linguistics of the Alderfolk, its common name translates to “City of Solitude,” earned in respect to its geographic isolation upon the eastern coast. Though isolated by design, the city is far from desolate, for within this basion do mossy stone spires rise between winding boughs, while lanternlight glows in warmth against the ever-present ocean mists whisking throughout its high strung canopies. Caras Siol is known for its wealth of mineral deposits, particularly coal and copper seams nested deep within their forested hills and mountains, and the plenty sought after motes of daemonsteel found near jagged coastal bedrock. These minerals, paired with the Ilharcress’ abundant timber, wild game, and medicinal flora, grant the capital both self-sufficiency and influence to the outside world. Tʜᴇ Mᴏssᴡᴏᴏᴅs elAme'lentian Home to the Ilharcress region is the temperate woodland of Ame'lentian, the vast wilderness surrounding the city of Caras Siol. The tender host of Caurost’s many landmarks, wild idols, and dangers untold, a swathe of pine trees and redwoods dominate its landscape with such density that it softens even the highest sun, while winding, forked rivers carve through the moss-seeped landscape. Eastern ocean gales carry the scent of brine and misty waters inland to mingle with the wooded, resin-scent of cedar and pine sap, while rivers carry in smooth bends throughout the forest floor and empty across the distant cliffs in rushing waterfalls and trickling streams. Although sometimes cautioned by travelers for its occasional dangers, Ame'lentian is not without its welcome. Throughout this temperate region, it’s not uncommon for travelers or explorers to stumble across roadside dwellings, outposts, huts and other manmade landmarks that offer rest to those bound for the jewel capital. Elsewhere do shrines, watchposts, and remnants of ruins before Caurost’s time stand half-reclaimed by ivy and lichen. Scattered throughout its mossy breadth, elven geographers have reported the late uncovering of ancient ruins believed to predate that of Caurost, such as structures of weathered stone and unfamiliar design that resemble citadel or spire-like architecture, inscribed with expressions of Ancient Elven tongue said to have belonged to a native people who have vanished without a trace. While no surviving records speak of their name nor existence, theories as to their fate suggest magical calamity that swept through the Ilharcress region, leaving in its wake a landscape of dormant magic yet to be reawakened. Nᴏᴍᴀᴅ's Rᴏᴀᴅ Linoronn’leh Narn The road from Iryalen to Caurost, stretching most of the Ilharcress region. As a bustling trade route for Imperial, Caurosian, and Irrinite merchants, Nomad’s Road is one of the busiest arteries within the region. It’s common to encounter local and foreign patrols riding in defense of its caravans during times of war, protecting those vulnerable from marauding bandits or dark creatures lurking to rob the travelers of their wares. Elven sculptors have labored to the placement of marble idols along the stretch of Nomad’s Road in order to bid omens of luck and safety to its passers. Carved to the likeness of ancient elven philosophers, caretakers, and wardens, these idols are poised to point along their path towards the city of Caras Siol in order to urge passing travelers to keep on course. The foot of each statue is etched with the common elven expression “kaean'leh evareh,” which translates to “may it protect our spirit” in common. Tʜᴇ Dᴇᴇᴘᴡᴏᴏᴅs elUlln’ame The blighted forest sat upon the southernmost region of Caurost’s territory, a dark and decrepit region known as Ulln’ame, or the Deepwoods. This treacherous expanse is littered with dead, almost ebon-blackened trees that grow so dense in their gnarled canopies that it shrouds all light from above, leaving in its wake a blanket of darkness over the forest floor. What few shafts of light to make it past these branches comes in thin, ashen rays floating with debris, cobwebs, and whatever foul, ghastly miasma floating within the air. It is widely believed that Ulln’ame was the site of whatever magical blight that once swept through the woods of Ame'lentian, leaving this region suspended in a state of slow, deathly decay. For its perilous landscape, Ulln’ame is cautioned as uncharted territory by elven locals. The road within is heavily underdeveloped, winding, and thin, making it markedly difficult to track along the dark gloam of the forest floor, and sometimes even vanishes beneath blankets of rotting leaves and clusters of bramble. Caurosian locals often recount unexplained disappearances within Ulln’ame disproportionate to the rest of the Ilharcress region, leading many to believe these lands a wealth of hunting ground for dark creatures who prey upon unlucky travelers and merchants beneath its lightless canopy. Mʏʟᴀs' Wʜɪᴘ Mylas’leh Dionllyth The river leading to Caurost’s capital. As the second longest river in Azuras, it leads from the heart of the valley in Goldleaf Gap to Brothers’ Watch at the foot of the city. When the Golden Road treaty was put into motion in 262 S.A., dwarven merchants and Urguani laborers would often use Mylas’ Whip to transport their goods to the elves of Caurost. Bʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀs’ Wᴀᴛᴄʜ Mal’onn’leh Sulier The front gates which separate the city from the outside world. Twin statues of renowned elvish fighters Hurin Ilumrin and Kairn Calithil guard its gates, denoted as mythical figures tied to martial and spiritual strength. Clad in regalia and warcloaks, they stand identical to one another, hands clasped upon their styled swords while their gazes watch over distant wilds beyond city walls. Frequently seen tending to them are appointed elven sculptors and keepers, who labor to ensure that their carved surfaces are never permitted to weather, crack, nor chip. Wɪᴅᴏᴡ's Pᴇᴀᴋ Haelune’leh Tahn On the outskirts of elUlln’ame, is the quiet glade of Widow’s Peak, the Glade of the Dead. Here rests in solitude elves who have departed from this world and into the next, guarded by canopies of winding dark oak trees designed to keep those within undisturbed. The burial spots of these elves are honored with marble busts of their likeness, carved by appointed sculptors in order to ensure that a life as long and eternal as an elf’s is not reduced to a mere name in stone. At the rear of the cemetery rest the crypts, nested deep within the precipice of Widow’s Peak, and is reserved for only the most venerated among them, such as slain leaders, philosophers, wardens, and other fabled elven figures whose influence shaped their time. It is strictly forbidden to raise one’s voice within their halls for fear of disturbing the slumber of those within. Sᴛᴏɴᴇᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ Rɪsᴇ Talareh’sullier Nor Nested along the northest reach of Ame'lentian sits Stonewatch Rise, one of the earliest Caurosian settlements raised after the construction of Gray Harbor, said to have been the dwelling of the Caurosian people when Caras Siol was mere scaffoldings and swathes of fresh soil. Resting beneath the remnants of the woodland’s many forgotten ruins, the rise looks over liewyn’tennallar’s waters and the distant rocky alcoves surrounding the capital city. While no longer hosting Caurost’s elven population, it’s modernly purposed as a hardy post for scholars and geographers studying the surrounding ruins and wild landscape, as well as a staging ground for patrols monitoring the northern reaches of the capital. Like the other outposts within Ame'lentian, signal braziers connect the camp to Galahad’s Annex and beyond that, to Caras Siol itself. Gᴀʟᴀʜᴀᴅ's Aɴɴᴇx Galahad’leh Siimah At the heart of Ame'lentian, stands mighty the eye of Galahad’s Annex, a small military outcamp set upon one of the highest elevations of the woodland interior. Sturdy rivets of stone and wood make up this small but proud keep, guarded by a watch tower that crests on high as far as the eye can see from above. From here, one can see the rolling stretch of pines and rivers in all directions, and the glimmering backdrop of the jewel capital’s city lights towards the eastern ocean. The annex serves as a central rendezvous for local mobilization efforts, primarily patrols or weary scouting parties guarding the woodland realm. Signal braziers are kept at the ready in order to warn locals within the distant capital of incoming danger along Nomad’s Road, be it raiding parties, bandits, or natural or magical calamity. Though humble in size, the annex serves as a critical station for territorial defense. Sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Sᴇᴀ Liewyn’Tennallar Despite the beauty the name suggests, Liewyn’tennallar refers to the jagged coastal rockfaces that litter the eastern edge of Ame'lentian, sometimes called “Thalassa’s Teeth,” an expression perhaps ironically more befitting of these hostile waters. Docking along the eastern waters proves a daunting task relegated to only the most experienced of sailors. Larger ships often choose to anchor farther out, while smaller ones must navigate carefully through what few inlets allow passage, rather than risk their hulls being splintered by these serrated rocks. It’s for these daunting teeth that Gray Harbor is made one of the few major trading ports in the east. Cʟᴏᴜᴅʀᴇsᴛ Pᴇᴀᴋ Acaeleh’ciw Talar Directly west of Stonewatch Rise is the range of Cloudrest Peak. This rugged spine of stone is one of the few, if only formidable mountain ranges within Caurost’s territory, and stands to divide the region of Ame'lentian from the northern reaches of ame’miruelan, or the Redwoods. Oft do thin clouds wreathe its heights, sometimes spilling down its face and lending the woodlands below its characteristic misty veil. Seldom trekked for more than industrial purposes, its stone has served some of Caurost’s earliest foundations, such as the capital or Gray Harbor. Few Caurosians delve into the higher peaks without reason, oft advised against travel by cautionary signs or elven patrol bands, for the terrain is unforgiving, and sudden storms gather with little warning. Tʜᴇ Hᴏʟʟᴏᴡ elNor’kaliri The heart of all revelry, song, and dance host to Caras Siol is the Hollow. During times of celebration, the glade is lively with warm lanterns that hang from low-set branches and colored banners, and mingle with the scent of baked goods and fresh cider harvested from the apple trees of Littletown. Outside of seasonal revelry, the Hollow finds use as a notable site for social and cultural affairs among the people. Traders often congregate here to present wares such as produce, mead, cider to the people, or it finds itself the host of city tournaments and competitions. Cᴇʀʀɪᴅᴡᴇɴ's Gᴀʀᴅᴇɴ Cerridwen’leh Lenti At the foot of Brothers’ Watch and the final bend of Mylas’ Whip river sits the gentle glade of Cerridwen’s Garden. Surrounding its open ground is a waterfront crowned with ferns and soft grass thickets and smooth basalt rock faces, while willow trees and pines bend in protection of this sacred site. The rocky face rising behind the glade serves as both backdrop to the murals carved within its face, depicting common Caurosian fables and historical tales. Unlike Widow’s Peak, Cerridwen’s Garden is not a place of mourning. It’s not uncommon that Caurosian lorekeepers and scholars bring their young to Cerridwen’s Garden to pass down cultural knowledge, works, or instruction, guarded by the watchful gaze of Galahad’s Annex on the precipice above it. Iʟᴜᴍʀɪɴ Hᴏᴜsᴇ Ilumr’Talonnii Rested atop a gentle precipice on the southernmost front of Ame'lentian is House Ilumrin, home to the ruling bloodline of Caurost. Though modest in scale compared to the marbled terraces of the capital, the keep is gracefully laden with pale stone walls and polished dark oak, and a peristyle that overlooks the distant city. The keep’s placement, while questionable to many for its security concerns, is said to reflect the wishes of Galahad’s wife Guinheyvar, who sought life beyond the bustling capital. She yearned for a domestic retreat for their family, and so did Galahad oblige, and assigned elven patrols to maintain regular routes through the surrounding woodlands, and stationed guards watch the distant treelines from the keep’s ramparts. Aᴡᴀɪᴛɪ’s Rᴇsᴛ Awaiti’leh Ciw Just beyond the walls of Caras Siol is the serene waterfront of Awaiti’s Rest, named after the gentle wood elven priestess and matriarch. Its banks dip steep into the earth, while its west pools into the inner city gardens through water gates. The pockets of this glade are connected by thin walkways, arches, stone chiseled gazebos, and willow branches whose vines tail into the water, while the gentle trill of water creatures and frogs bring its beauty to life at dusk. Along the coast’s precipice, its waters rush into a mighty waterfall that runs past the keep of the Sunlit Covenant below. Although holding little historic significance, Awaiti’s Rest is considered a civic garden to locals, similar to Cerridwen’s Garden. It’s not uncommon to witness company within its quiet glade, strolling beneath warm lanternlight, or sharing company with one another. Upon its surface, the blue faelights of water nymphs are sometimes seen wisping across its surface in soft glow. Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇᴛᴏᴡɴ Linan'saeii Just shy of the capital’s bustling walls rests one of Caurost’s few elven villages, uniquely dubbed “Littletown.” Originally founded to relieve the city’s dwindling housing vacancies, it overlooks the basin of Brothers’ Watch and is host to a small economy of farmers and laborers, serving as one of Caurost’s few agricultural outlets due to the climate’s inability to support an industry. A small bundle of orchard trees and rooted vegetables lie in the farmlands within this village, most of which are imported directly to the Dancing Nymph Tavern once harvested. Mᴀʟɪɴ’s Gᴀᴛᴇ Malin’leh Talareh Vigilant of all who walk Nomad’s Road is the noble threshold of Malin’s Gate, a set of ruined stone arches that denote one’s entry into the elven lands of Ame'lentian. They’re among one of many ruins throughout the Ilharcress region said to predate the settling of the Caurosians within its lands, and are believed to have been created by whatever lost colony that once inhabited Ame’lentian. The keystone of each arch is inscribed with expressions of ancient elven, such as “talarehan ciw llythne,” or “asul haesieae ito lenti lente” Gʀᴇʏ Hᴀʀʙᴏʀ Ikur’Talareh The salt-scoured cove of Grey Harbor was the first official settlement to be constructed by the Caurosi upon their arrival to Azuras. Located at the slope beneath the crest of the mountain, Grey Harbor is the first and final destination of traders who reach the city. The harbor is small due to the perilous nature of the surrounding ocean. The jagged rocks litter the water and the currents of the rough sea there are so powerful that at times they consume the surrounding seashore. It is here that Acaelanite merchants often congregate from the esteemed Rull’uvuliran. The Spice Traders are notorious for their ability to navigate this perilous coast and they carry with them the bounties of foreign lands. It is not unheard of for Adunians to make use of the ports as well to carry their own goods such as steel swords – notoriously hard to manufacture en masse within the Caurosi hinterlands – and other instrumental weapons of war such as siege engines are imported directly from Imperial weapons manufacturers.

"Pregnant man reacting" Ding ding ding GMA Millennial entitlement for 400

Unc, He's younger than me and I'm 26. Sit yo ass back down. Him being "32" is a joke. You look geriatric rn. We're unc but you're GMA. Hop back on FF14 to take a break from takin' care of your kids.

"Don't respond to me!" > Whining for 9 paragraphs. Make a cup of tea and move on. If you can't handle this, you can't handle a job, can't handle a discussion at the bar, and can't handle talking to people in general. Someone thought your opinion was stupid. Move on. Which, heads up, your opinion is stupid. But hey, that's just my opinion!

1. deviouschungus 2. halt & aeus & remeron 3. seanvevo & nectorist 4. x_amongus_x & xx_princesswand_xx (nadine) 5. zarsies & unwillingly 6. mirvam & orlanth 7. milenkhov & m1919 8. songwitch 9. gaiusmarius8 & archoly 10. phersades & glassyskies All of these are just about interchangeable. Lots of people not mentioned, not due to a lack of effort, but because there's just too many names.

"Martinus?" "...Yes." "A storied name to be sure."

"Jolly good show!" spoke Orion Mareno. He wrote to Philippa. @Kholibrii To the Woman, It is very clear now that you have erred if Prince Johannes is to be the Princess' champion. I cannot promise an assured victory, but I can promise a good show. Let me know if you'd like me to fight for you. Do not think that any other fighter will be able to make a difference. That being said, you might as well swallow your defeat with pride, and I will bear that burden too just to have the bards pen the tale of my failed bout against the storied Prince of the Empire. Sincerely, Orion Mareno

Other people pointed out, but since there's not a proper way to acquire materials, and few objective ways of them breaking (except for 2 T5 spells hitting Thanhium, or Thanhium clashing with Argentum) it is just shitty to do. Mats are really hard to come by. Item economy is already fucked, no reason to make it worse.

It began many years ago as Damien and his father wandered onto the sands near Amathine and bore witness to a horrific creature. It resembled a a creature that looked like a cross between a Wendigo and a Minotaur, with a fierce looking ram skull mask. From that moment, though they met infrequently, their two souls were bound to cross again and again. For Damien's entire life, this specter haunted him, hurting and harassing him at every turn. From situations such as having Damien's arm shattered, his face lit on fire with alchemist's fire, or far worse... Oddly, the Zar'akal grew used to Damien's presence, and viewed each time that he ran into the Mage with amusement. One day, he realized Damien must be dead, and he was beset by a strange feeling. Was it over that quickly? Are mortal lives truly so short and easily extinguished? He was disappointed. Who else would he just stumble onto and torture repeatedly? This disrupted his occasional bouts of amusement he got from unintentionally running into and grotesquely torturing the young man. Vriza and Damien would never play their game of cat and mouse again.

yeah i signed this

"I can't believe CasualNuker Peter would do this?" said Orion Mareno to his father. @Nectorist

I really appreciate your great attitude, but I agree with Delmo that you don't need to apologize for the actions of other people. Everybody is very appreciative of the great attitude you, Vailoen, and Neropolitan have brought to this whole debacle.

The last comment I'll have on the matter is that I appreciate the both of you saying these things. There was no concerted effort by my party to report the other side and we didn't actively pursue any kind of actionable steps OOC to PK anybody. I appreciate you Taters & Neropolitan for being so polite, taking things on the chin, and actively intervening on this thread to give your opinion as people who are impacted by the ruling. The things I outline below will not be to argue with you, but are going to be generally explained for others who might still believe this is somehow a conspiracy. Addressed to the conspiracy theorists however, 1. The only ticket I made that day was a Modreq to signify we were raiding. 2. I am not Lore Team, I had nothing to do with the verdict, nor was I involved in the Omni of locations & items by Story Team. 3. The subject never entered Enforcement Chat. If it did, I would have been forced to recuse myself from the discussion due to personal involvement in the role-play. 4. If I knew 4 people would be PK'd, I likely wouldn't have burned the trees and just tainted them instead. I have very strict personal rules for myself when it comes to how I treat other players. I am also going to highlight this since some of the people who are upset wish to pin the blame on other people, while using the loss of their characters as an excuse to dredge up old OOC drama. It is inexcusable to create conspiracy theories surrounding players you might dislike just because they opposed you in role-play. If I wanted to, we could have not admitted half your rally due to the timer, but I told Trinn it was okay for more people to show up since I wanted an even fight. The evidence of the role-play culminating in the fight existed for weeks. I was super stressed out because a lot of the people on the other side were OOC friends or acquaintances of mine, and I hate to CRP my own friends. To claim in any way to have a window into my soul and see that I plotted the misfortune of other people through out-of-character means in this instance is frankly incorrect. Additionally, to morally posture and grandstand the subject by fabricating moral outrage by falsely trying to implicate me as having broken rules without understanding the full context of the role-play and my frustration with having to do it in the first place is also displeasing to hear about. Being CRP locked against my own friends who I believed would not be on at the time left any "victory" feeling bittersweet. I continued solely because I was locked in the role-play and wanted to finish it. As for Tav, somebody making an annoying or snarky comment a few times isn't major harassment, God forbid a gay dude has some motion. Letting you guys rally late in addition to other kindnesses I extended during the whole roleplay (which your side did reciprocate in some instances) should be proof enough of the good faith that existed in that situation. If it were solely a plot for my own advancement and I knew they'd all be PK'd in advance and had a malicious desire to see it through, would I not have simply barred the newcomers from entry, paused the RP, then logged on during the date next arranged just to kill the Soul Trees and leave?