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Rigorous

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About Rigorous

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    The Wilderness

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Sul aen Sov
  • Character Race
    Acaelanite Wood Elf

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  1. Good luck Josh. I'm proud of you!
  2. A notice is pinned to every possible frequented noticeboard across Southern Aevos. Salutations, God bless you. I, Jover Mossheart, have come into the possession of knowledge most valuable– the location of the legendary ‘Emperor’s Chalice’, an item rumored to have heavenly properties capable of healing any disease. Naturally, this has attracted many ruffians to it, each seeking to stake their claim onto the relic for their nefarious means to no avail. However, I am a desperate man. My family has caught the Bloodrot, my wife and my firstborn son, and so I implore you to come and assist me. Two insidious cults have taken root in the dark chambers beneath my feet. I seek to have them vanquished for the safety of all of us. Dark shadows that take the shape of men, wretched Dark Dwarves, and Dark Elf cultists down in those caves… Mori’quessir donning the flesh of men as clothes! Pray tell, when might you come and offer me your services to destroy them? It may be wondered as to what prevents me from seeking out the Chalice alone, to which I must describe that I have already been injured by the dark arts in such attempts, for the ruins and caverns in which the relic resides are teeming with God damned Ibleesian powers. Shadows, despite their immaterial nature, injured me in my attempt to find the Chalice and the other jewels teeming to infinity beyond that Sacrosanct Gate. Thus, I do find myself compelled to assemble a motley crew of Adventurers, hereafter named Dunmire’s Regulars, to assist in my retrieval of the Emperor's Chalice, from which may we all benefit once acquired. Should for whatever reason the Chalice be not your interest; but rather the adventure, I have allotted my life’s savings to seeing those who answer my call be paid well. It is hoped that this is enticing enough. You may find me traversing the land in search of you all, or leave your interest by these letters and you will be contacted shortly. Please include a resume and be prepared to tender me a ten mina fee, so that we might escort you here safely without the Devil’s agents taking you. I most humbly await your participation, Your Ally, Jover Mossheart
  3. EDICT OF HELIOUS ENACTED BY Medin’sair Sul Amirsan aen Sov The 18th of the Deep Cold Year 168 S.A. Declaration The people of Helious have departed the lands of Amathine and left their estate unattended. As their lands have no keeper, they have been restored to nature. With the departure of Ember Munnel, the lands shall be reconnected with nature, and all buildings have been consequently deconstructed and depopulated. Druids are encouraged to tend to these lands and establish a garden or a grotto if they so desire in the meantime, but there shall be no permanence in this zone respected by the Crown and the Council of Amathine at this time due to concerns involving upkeep, maintenance, and management. This shall serve as the basis of all future eviction procedures for depopulated manors within the Crown of Amathine. A landowner must provide adequate notice to the government for a pending eviction. Ember Munnel cooperated with the Crown and acted with integrity in her dealings with us throughout this extensive process, and we humbly thank her for notifying us of her departure. The bleak structure of the black mortar castle constructed upon the manor's periphery, what the Acaelanites have called Castle Izrafel, was also sacked and deconstructed in this process. It is believed that cultists were mobilizing against the Helious people from this position. The Druids of Amathine have also returned that structure to Nature, and by the grace of Acaelan I hope to never see such a structure within our borders again. What was once called Helious shall now be entitled the Marsh Glades. A pending name shall be chosen in the Elven Language as well and affixed to our official map of the country once it is drawn and printed. SIGNED, Sul Amirsan aen Sov, Medin'sair Uell ito Maruthiran,
  4. The waylaid Azdrazi Alistair recalled a distant memory from three or four centuries before. The smirking figure of his father clad in all black beneath a molten crown, simmering orange pearl-shaped eyes radiating the malice of colliding stars. "And so you are returned to me Alistair. Now spread our blood, begin the Order of Nephilim anew." Alistair had committed himself to that task. He went to the city of Johannesburg and laid the Keeper of Guardianship low, and battered her pupils as well. He created the first Azdrazi from humans who joined his cause and then also turned three Paladins to the cause of Azdromoth afterward, whether they had agreed to it or not. He had sired many Azdrazi from his blood, and they went on to sire more Azdrazi of their own. Now, his people were no longer extinct - they were a monomyth - a bulwark against Iblees, or so he thought. Heroes of Old wrought from flesh anew; the legacy of Dragur, the forbidden species grafted to the Tree of Life by the wiles of an absent Daemon and his firstborn son, the Black Titan Azdromoth. There is little that the Dragaar's scion would not do for him. He still remembered that Azdromoth had unsealed him within the Ruins of Tor Azdraeth and gifted him the Immaculate Blade. A sword that lost neither shine nor luster and could draw a dragon's soul to its end should it turn against its creator. The sword was gone now, reclaimed by the Black Titan nearly a century ago, and now culling was an infrequent affair. Alistair shifted his gaze to his desk and began to write a letter to his friend so that they may go attend to his father's task. The eldest of the Nephilim rides for Tor'Praeth, he thought humorously. Let them see that there is no purer son than me. @Maiyun
  5. 🕊️

    1. Zarsies

      Zarsies

      fly high brother

  6. To expand on this, nations are essentially just these immense and all-consuming segments of the server. There is no alternative for players who want to do smaller-scale role-play. Instead of guilds, craftsmen, and farmers, you've got endless noble personas, all of which have some "unique" facet to them - namely, they're all nobles. I believe that it would be wise to place the same emphasis we had on prior maps of four crucial zones and a handful of outlier nations to fix this. Player creativity is a good thing when it's channeled in a positive direction. However, people have historically channeled their energy inwards, and now the server culture is dominated by greed. Every decision is influenced by out-of-character influences in every major group. While this is inescapable even in old LoTC, it does not change that in the past there were harsher punishments for this behavior, whereas nowadays it is rewarded. People are actively rewarded for being selfish. Nobody can make the argument that these countries have "varied" cultures, it is simply a matter of which personality cult dominates which, and which people invest the most time into ensuring its success. There are some people who make efforts to do both, which is cool, but at the end of the day player narratives are now governed by their uninhibited impulses. Honestly, I'd gut nations as an institution start fresh, and place a heftier emphasis on role-play systems that foster activity not through tea party pings, but through enabling positive exchange between players. Mods have increasingly become a facet of rule-lawyering between old, jaded players who claim to care about role-play but behave hypocritically as to write the fattest wiki pages (which is rife with plagiarism, theft, and a lack of professionalism in itself). There is no reason somebody cannot get their own house elsewhere, so long as they contribute to the server's narrative. A regulated free-build option where you can get your builds approved with a lore write-up would be dope. We need fewer kings, shepherds, bureaucrats, and smarmy politicians. We honestly just need people who care about role-playing for fun and not to sustain their ego. TL;DR We risk returning to a time frame where server activity is dictated by pings. We should be creating a server where people do not endeavor to use Discord. Amen.
  7. Grisha contemplates who might be responsible, and then seeks out more information. The Ferryman burned some incense to commemorate the passing of the High Elf who had enlisted as a Scallywag so many years ago. "Go with honor. Know that your work has left an impression on us. There will never be a better master of trebuchets than you and Dayren."
  8. Alexander Montalt takes this moment to peruse the document with interest, before resuming his work. He carefully plants a stockpile of small explosives inside of a Winburgh house, before moving to the next one. Another tedious day in the young terrorist’s life, but Imperial “peace”-keepers don’t kill themselves.
  9. Alexander Montalt rides with his brother. Win or lose. Outnumbered or not. Why? Because that’s what Montalts do. Montalts do not shirk from duty, they do not snake their allies for a duchy or a pretty penny. And so Alexander rides alongside his brother Radmir, no matter the end result, because honor guides his stalwart hand. The young man kicks his leg and sends his horse off to a start. He rides to defend good men and women from the servant of an Arch-Lich in the service to Iblees who seeks to doom them all.
  10. I’ve done guerilla campaigns multiple times to advantageous effect, but only when the enemy is unconfident and extremely ineffective.
  11. "I wouldn't kick a man when he's down," says Grisha.
  12. I personally wouldn’t, but I know many people probably would on here.
  13. Grisha gave the knight’s pamphlet a thumbs up.
  14. Alexander Montalt stood silently alongside his father Philip in a ruinous cargo hold. Since the destruction of the League of Veletz, the man's family was once again cast adrift. However, it was only natural that his people fared better at sea than among paved city streets. Upon reaching land after months of arduous travel, the young man stepped out, his scuffed black boots kicking up sand as he stepped off onto the beach from the pier making his way down step by step. Alex turned in for the night not too long after before he awoke to the pounding of his door in the inn. His aged father stood there. It was then that Alexander received the foul news. The news that Mikhaila his childhood friend and once betrothed had perished. There was no small amount of grief on the young man's face. He spoke a quiet eulogy on her behalf to the waves that crested the coast, a seashell resting flat on his pale palm, riding against the ridge of his calloused knuckles. "Goodbye my old friend," he thought somberly. "I shall tell your kid all about you. Your kindness to a ward from a far-off land. May your soul illuminate the Skies with joy."
  15. "Treachery that will not be soon forgotten," remarked Grisha. "Never forget the day that the Irrinites again pursued perfidious politics at the expense of their tribe. If I find where they're at now, it's time to institute a Union Tax upon them." @MaltaMoss
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