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91st

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    hatemailpersonified#0000
  • Minecraft Username
    91st

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  • Character Name
    Vyktor Viskyr
  • Character Race
    Human

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  1. Another note was attached to the missive; In league with my contemporaries, I also insist that the debate be replanted without the looming threat of war or political manipulation. As Tilruir'maehr, I have a vested interest in the continued progress of knowledge - and while one may argue a millennium of patience be the price of purity, Descendant kind has not had peace enough to even offer purity to further generations as our homes last only a few hundred years at most. As our numbers dwindle, as more leave Haelunor and the teachings of Larihei, as we debate meritocracy or birth; we must not abandon progress simple because some were given the virtue of nepotist luck. Allow Mali kind to be brought back into the fold, at least with the consideration of a debate. As one of those experimenting with the procedure, and one with the golden blood, it is my duty to declare some bias in my endeavor - but a bias should never discount the platform outright. I welcome to see our newly appointed Maheral do what is right, and bring this to the people as a whole. In the interest of polishing silver; Tyrael Vaelreos Current Tilruir'maehr and acting Okarir'maehr of Haelunor
  2. I'm a very new player on LOTC, so I'll express the perspective of a new writer. Start with the good; I think LOTC has tons of potential, and the people can often be super welcoming and nice depending on where you go and who you talk to. There is a vague sense of 'don't talk to me I'm doing my house RP', but generally if you have some goal in mind heading to an RP most people are welcome to write back and forth with you for a bit. The magic systems, while very restrictive, are actually very interesting - and the history related to how magic has affected the world is doubly so. I often find myself reading up on in game lore books just to read about the voidal horror event that occured two continents ago. Events have been interesting, world lore is great, and alot of the stuff that is currently in use is v engaging - and I'd be lying if there wasn't some magic envy going on for those magics I don't have, or those items I wish I did. Now, with the bad; There is a weird sense that staff are trying too hard to cater to every type of group - from MRP'ers and CRP'ers, and they can't manage to make either happy because the systems they implement for both are so shallow and unfun you're picking the poison of grinding endlessly for leather so you'll survive a raid, or gambling on a d20 regardless of your character so you don't spend 4 hours lawyering up who would logically win a fight. The systems just fundamentally fight against what LOTC seems to want to be, an RP Server. After PVP was turned on, RP instantly dropped because people were so focused on camping their mining nodes and cow farms as an example, which seems odd that an RP server would implement a system that encourages people to not RP. As far as gatekeeping, it is definitely an issue, though I assume because there has been such harsh punishments to entire systems for the failings of single people. Like, it is atrociously hard for a new writer to get things like magic - and despite what people claim, if you're not instantly a useful member to a faction, you're probably not going to get a lot else either, alchemy included. Is there a way to fix that? Maybe, some executive action to encourage people to write things they want, but maybe thats best left to LOTC's culture. The last big issue, which is even super prevalent in this thread and so many others, but LOTC has literally zero respect for one another. These forums are full of 'witty one liners and comebacks', but it reeks of teenage salt over a game about blocks and their cool self inserts. Players openly comment on applications for staff, lore, items, or anything else with atrocious comments that have no bearing on the issue or subject at hand, and just to insult people. Worse than even that, but I've seen threads where staff come in and lack any iota of professionalism to pop off for likes. There is so little moderation on keeping up friendly behavior, the entire server culture has slowly descended into an absolute mess of toxicity and stupidity because there's nobody skimming the sludge that floats to the top without some grievous issue. Here's an example that occurred to me when I first joined - I got 'hired' into a group of RP'ers doing some crusader nonsense. I thought it would be chill and joined, but I quickly found out that they didn't actually care about the RP, only cared about PVP and harassing people on the road. They spent alot of time hiring new people fresh off their applications, and then doubly encouraged them to hate LOTC from the get go. These people openly talked about how RP is cringe, that its stupid to do it, and more often than not they refused to do anything RP related unless it consisted of attacking Randoms. That's all their LOTC Focused stuff, but in their discord itself it was even worse - they openly had old men talking to teenagers about how to make their privates larger through a course they had. Absolutely atrocious nonsense, and there were multiple members that were on staff teams, or knew vaguely what was going on - and apparently, that isn't even that uncommon for this stuff to just pass. So when you have groups that outright think of LOTC as a place to just break and harass until they have to do their ban appeal for being too toxic, how do you think LOTC is going to go in the long run? Bloated staff teams, poor design philosophy, and no focus on the mission statement LOTC itself references leads to this amalgam of confusion and weirdness nobody likes, and it very well won't get better until someone puts their foot down and starts cleaning up.
  3. A lone man walks a worn, cobbled road. Wrapped in tight leathers and a burlap cloak, he holds no home to return, no place to call his own, and few reservations left to hold him back. His stomach grumbles at the thought of a hot meal, his hunger grows. Greed, like a cancer, has began to fester in his heart - he needs money. With none but the snow to hear his promise, he declares that he will never go hungry again. He will never suffer as he has - no one will stop him from securing for himself a good life. No matter how many men, women, and children he has to cut down. None will hold him back from a warm bed and the comforts of fine life. Like a security blanket, he grips the handle of his blade ever tighter, even as the wind drives tears to his eyes. Just one more step, one more town. His next job was on the horizon. --- OOC: Hi, I'm new here. I'm looking to see if anyone is interested in hiring a guard, assassin, mercenary, general laborer. Generally, just looking for an easy way to ease myself into the community and get used to the RP with a few characters (assuming this one dies), and then going from there. Simply, Vyktor has no issues with any crimes, commands, or issues. The only downside, is he's obviously a man who's loyal to minas more than any specific ideology. With that all said, I'd love to see who might be looking to hire a down on his luck, rather bad human with little morality! Discord: hatemailpersonified (because I forgot to put it in here)
  4. 91st

    91st

    You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” ((How do you respond?)) "Gran.", Vyktor grumbled. His waterbag sloshed as he took a seat, the wood protesting at his weight. He cleared his throat, spit, then leaned forward. "Not gonna. See - I know wheat you've been doin'. I know where the kids been goin'. Been knowin' it all.", he said, pulling from a pocket of his cloak a small, once sealed bounty. The wax seal broken, he slid it across the table so it would open, revealing the drawing of the old hag's visage, though the artist's interpretation certainly added a few warts. Clearly, openly, it stated her name and price - of five hundred minas. "Don't try makin' excuses. I've heard 'em. 'Na' Ser, 'tis the villagers! They be jealous!'", he mocked before drawing a small dagger from its sheath. "Heard it 'fore, didn't care then. Don't care now. Ah've come 'fer ya ear and your blood. How much I spill is on you." --- (Consider this just for fun. Crowmancy and the poison mentioned are not canon, I just wanted to write more. Only considerations is the hints at a rough history, obviously a hunter for hire, and experience fighting.) An explosion of black feathers blinded the Hunter, lost in its abyssal flurry for only a moment before he growled and stood. Blood broke free from a cut made by one of the feathers trailing from his jaw to his neck, his life ichor staining the collar of his armor before he raised a hand to block any more. With eyes closed, the assault began to ramp itself higher, faster, more intense as the hag's laugh broke free through the blizzard of magical crowmancy. Violence was his lifeblood, and the Hunter never entered the den of his prey without preparation. He hadn't expected the bog-witch to break into such a lightning fast assault, made worse he couldn't even open his eyes without fear of losing them. With adrenaline beginning to flood his body, habits and training took over as he tore a leather pouch of poisoned glass shards from his belt - letting the sparkling starlight of them spread wide infront of him. It took only a moment before the assault paused in its crescendo, and only a second longer for it to fail entirely. The Hag used her own blood to form these feathers, these birds, and the glass had made micro cuts in each as they pushed through the shard-cloud. The poison was specially crafted, a nervous poison meant to draw the mana and arcane from mages - rare, expensive, all the more important to hunt such a monster. When the Hag's laughter had become more of a whine, a groan in the dark, Vyktor stood to his full height and opened his eyes once more. One cloudy, cataracts forcing the ghost eye to watch her out of habit than any usefulness; the other piercing the child-killer's soul. His lip curled into a snarl as he spoke, his voice raspy but full of a great and righteous fury; "Wasn't even about the money - I'd of killed your kind whether they paid a pence or a silver.", he spat, deftly drawing his blade in a single movement. "No!", she cried out, hand raised as she tried to form into Crow's once more - but the micro cuts in her flesh never transformed as they had before. Blood opened, spilled, the Hag cried out in pain - and nothing happened. The cuts did not heal, she wailed, and Vyktor with mercy befitting a Cobra stomped over the rotted wooden planks of her floor and let the blade fall deep into her jagged, blackened heart. He took his time finding his dagger, carving from her a pound of flesh, and leaving with all he would need to prove that the bounty had been completed.
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