MonteGiant

༺⊰☼⊱༻ That blazing sun of the south, that roar of the battlefield, here did that Tawantinsuyin Sinchi ride upon his war-llama to face those dwarves, uruks, and elves, the cries of his God soaring from his gullet. “ALALA!!” The cries of the Tawantinsuyin, the cries of the Hatun Kuntur, the cries of war. His lance, tipped in gold, Quri to his people, would drive down on those foul foes of his, that gleaming Macana of his people then being brought down to crash and cleave upon them in tandem upon his dismounting. Victory was assured, heads cleaved, and then placed upon his hip. But upon that siege, shrapnel from a stray ballista would find that warrior’s torso- pain shooting about his entire form, The Orchestra of Combat leaving his ears as none could be heard but the words of his son, Kusi. Tupaq Amaru was dragged off the field, but his warband would take his place. Fighting as their people did, skirmishing with those dwarves in unparalleled prowess, guerrilla tactics of the Four Corners were being conducted upon those dwarves. A nightmare upon those smallfolk, that Tawantinsuyin Brood, and they would stand in solace as victory was accomplished. In their Victory, they would all call aloud… “KALLPASAPAKUNALLA!!”

We will get back for you. . . gimble.

↢ ⊰ ☼ ⊱ ↣ That Blood of Eshaenveurd, that youthful Man-At-Arms, that one-eyed Cesàri de Savoie, would pray within the chapel of Rittersburg. His form is that of a tailored mail and a dashing surcoat displaying his arms and those of every Prince of Savoy before him. That youth would clasp his metal-draped hands against another, his golden rosary within his grasp, dangling as he mutters towards himself in prayer. Words do not escape him, yet his mouth moves in solace as the warmth of GOD surges through his being. “AMEN.” Did he finally gasp aloud, his prayer finished, and there he stood, placing that simple nasal helm upon his head, placing that swordbelt over his shoulder, and finally gripping upon that Banner of the Black Sun. He would state those infamous words of his house as he moves alongside his allies, a boom to the heavens… “Blood For Ashford!”

There upon the roads to those southern lands of the Imperium, that Golden Banner of Lorraine flying upon those mounts, but on those roads did a youth holding of the banner of the black sun trot about upon his steed. Within his hands laid a rosary that make that same motion beholden to his liege lord, "Amen." did he utter upon the completion of this prayer within the Illatian Tongue, a newfound interest after a certain someone. . .

There within that swaying volcanic fortress, did that Alashir remain, the last of his kith gone, the last of his brothers fallen to their own reasons. That warpaint upon his eld visage, it would distort in pain, that herald had lost a friend. “To ash we return o Brother of mine, you shall be graced upon mine arms- so that you will guide my prowess til the end of mine days…”

Give me Shunting Please, I will do nothing with it but have it.

ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘʀᴏᴡᴇꜱꜱ: ᴘᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ: ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʀᴀꜰᴛ: ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. ───────────────────── The Kondorisi of the Tawantinsuyin is what is known within those lands as warriors of the faith, an elite and zealous warband of profound faith who aim to bring glory in the Hatun Kuntur’s name. There is no known date of their foundation, their craft as ancient as the very empire these people hail from. However, within Azuras, by the guiding grace of the Noble Panaka of Tupaq Amaru, a warband shall assemble in the likeness of such grandiose combatants. The Kondorisi are those Warriors of the Sun, mystical fighters who conduct themselves unconventionally in combat, notions of chivalry foreign to their gaze. Woe unto their foes. ───────────────────── The equipment of the Kondorisi is renowned for their foreign visage and for their adherence to agility and mobility, for to remain swift is to remain divine. The form of such equipment is not strictly regulated in the same manner as other Aevosi Militaries, although some regulations remain. Unkukumbi Such is the name of the light armor that would drape upon the forms of the Tawantinsuyin Kondorisi. Common amongst any Tawantinsuyin Warrior, perfect for comfort and days wishing for ease before true battle. A simple, long tunic in hues to suit the wearer's choice would be paired with a rough leather covering over the torso, providing basic protection to the limbs, such as greaves and bracers. Q’illay Unku The Kondorisi prides themself on their speed, and the greatest of their equipment in protection would be such armor. A bulwark of scale torso armor that would be gilded alongside much of the rest of their armor. Such armaments are consistently maintained, as this equipment is designed to last for generations, providing a considerable defense while maintaining agility. Displayed much across the protective armor are ornate fabrics with intricate designs, a pride of the Tawantinsuyin. ───────────────────── The Warband of the Kondorisi maintains a simple and clear display; there only lies the Apu, his Kondorisi, and the Awqaylli that follow him. ☀ The Apu: The Leader of the Warband, the Lord of all his Kondorisi. Such a Leader grants coordination towards his Kondorisi and Awqaylli, working to ensure they all work towards their end goal of slaying their foes and forwarding the Tawantinsuyin way of life. ☀ Kondorisi: The Kondori are the veterans of combat entrusted with guarding the Apu with their lives. They are brothers-in-arms, true Tawantinsuyin who follow such a path in life. They are made blood of the Apu, a family forged through their ideas of honor, bound by it completely. ☀ Awqaylli: The Awqaylli are known as the simple warrior, those Tawantinsuyin or otherwise who are not yet bled into the Apu’s Kondorisi. These are those not inducted, those who are allies yet not of the Tawantinsuyin Warrior way of life. ───────────────────── ᴀᴋɴᴀɴᴀ ᴋᴀʏ ᴡᴀɴᴋᴜʀɪʏ | ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ The Kondorisi are not ones to mindlessly accept any within their fold, as such a Rite was born long ago to forge such a bond. The Rite of Joining the Warband of the Apu is one of ritual and sacrifice for this bellicose people, the sacrifice of blood. Forth in front of all within this Warband, the one who wishes to join will move face to face with that Apu, that lord, and they both will slice their palms in unison- and in that same effort, join them both. Forging a bond of Blood. A creation of brotherhood. ᴀᴋɴᴀɴᴀ ᴋᴀʏ ᴀᴡQᴀʏ | ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀʀ War. War is an art form, and these Awqaylli and Kondorisi are the practitioners of such vibrancy. Before battle, there is a ritual to commence, which all Tawantinsuyin conduct. It begins with the consumption of the Sacred Teas of the Tawantinsuyin, “Bah’say”, to invigorate their very being. Then would be the anointment of their weaponry within the warmth of that divine liquid, bathing their armaments within the oils of the sun, quenching their metaphysical forms. Finally, upon the end of such baptismal rites, these warriors would garb their bronze visage in warpaint. With all finished, conflict is ready to commence, the Warband will sally to destroy their foes. ᴀᴋɴᴀɴᴀ ᴋᴀʏ Qʜᴜʀᴜʏ | ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀᴅʜᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ In tandem with war are the results of what comes of it: death. The way of the kill is known to the Tawantinsuyin, and it is the Kondorisi who specialize in such, and they are the ones who gain these trophies through sacred rite. As armed warriors of their faith and people, every hour of the Kondorisi’s life is marked in ritual, especially the art of destruction. Those warriors remove the heads of their foes, holding the head aloft by a braid of their own creation, then boiling the amputated artifice within the oils of the sun, allowing it to shrink to the size of a pygmy. Finally, this trophy graces their person, worn always as a symbol of pride in their work; their art. ᴀᴋɴᴀɴᴀ ᴋᴀʏ ᴡᴀÑᴜʏ | ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ Sadness, such is normal upon the fall of an ally, though such is not true for that of the Kondorisi. For the Tawantisnuyin, it is merely the death of their physical being, whilst their soul lives onward. As such, to keep this soul resplendent under the gaze of the Hatun Kuntur, do these people mummify their dead. Brought to the chambers of the Kondorisi, these warriors conduct the ritual for their mummification; The dead are bathed within the oils of the sun, and left to sit within those sit within their chilling rooms near their commune, sitting until their creation is completed, and brought back within the crypts of these warriors. From this ritual’s zenith are these allies, friends, and kith allowed to bask in celebration, drink, and converse with the others. ───────────────────── Should any wish to join, loose a bird towards the direction of Tupaq Amaru, and you will be answered. [IGN | MonteGiant] [Discord | fruitgushers6019]

──────────────────────────────────── ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏɪɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏɪɴ? They are the survivors of the “Pachakuteq”, the great cataclysmic changing of the world, which shaped the continent in which Tawantinsuyu is located. The Tawantinsuyin are a war-like expansionist culture born amongst Puka Luma's red hills. The most technologically advanced culture on the continent it inhabits, they have conquered most of their known world with their knowledge. A culture built on the factors of ambition, bravery, and efficiency, these people are a considerably prideful and rowdy bunch. Born within a diverse land, they can withstand the harshest climates, hot or cold. ──────────────────────────────────── ᴀ ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴄʜᴀᴋᴜᴛᴇQ History began with the greatest cataclysm of the known world, known to the Tawantinsuyin as the “Pachakuteq”, or “The Great Change of the World”. In this Pachakuteq, it nearly brought the world to its end, for the Sun had turned crimson, the earth was broken and cracked, with red-hot rivers strewn all around, the heavens were made into a void, for the moon had been destroyed as the stars above crashed down upon the earth en masse. All seemed lost; none could fight this cataclysm, their gods of the past were brought to their knees, until that fearsome cry broke throughout the world. “ALALA!” did those people of bronze and copper alike hear, and within the heavens did that shimmering Titan wrought of crimson soar with its mountainous wings. There, it was given a name by the people: The Hatun Kuntur. As it soared, it flew into that blood-red sun and swallowed it whole, killing its poisoned form, bringing it to rest. Next, it perched itself amongst the highest of mountains within the lands of Tawantinsuyu, and did it beat its wings akin to a hurricane, blowing away all those hostile rivers and angered seas. Thereafter, it cried in sorrow, tears flowing onto the earth to aid in its fertilization as it then vomited its bile, restoring that once-torn earth. And in consequence to the moon did it rip out a singular eye, placing it amongst the skies, those additional tears forming the new stars of the night sky. As it finished its restoration, it leapt to the skies and shepherded a newly formed sun, now blessed to never fail again… ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏᴜ Tawantinsuyu was born through the conquests of the Kingdom of Qusqu, and its great leader, Manko Capaq. These lands of Qusqu are known as the Puka Luma. From Manko Capaq’s conquests did he and his Panaka become known as the Inka Yupanki, Emperor, for he had conquered all surrounding lands of the continent they resided upon, marking the “Four Worlds Made Whole”, or… Tawantinsuyu. These “Four Worlds” are known as the previously mentioned Puka Luma, the Chin’Cha Yunka, the Hatun’Maya Sacha, and the Aymara Chu’Cho Kuna. This Empire holds a large array of biomes and environments, and forged along the previously fallen civilizations of empires, kingdoms, and tribes. Through such, the Tawantinsuyin are of a most quarrelsome people, forged of war, expansionism, and Imperialism; as such, this Empire is a land of constant strife. Whether it be new conquests, raids, tribal feuds, or the ever common civil war, Tawantinsuyu and its people are rare to know peace. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢᴍᴀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏɪɴ From this newly saved world, did those Tawantinsuyin begin to live by 3 commandments, oaths given unto them by the Hatun Kuntur. ☀ TO MAINTAIN BRAVERY ☀ TO MAINTAIN DILIGENCE ☀ TO MAINTAIN TRUTH This dogma is the backbone of the Tawantinsuyin, marking a path within their lives always; as such, the “Rule of Three” became a significant force amongst that bronze-hued people. ──────────────────────────────────── ʀᴜɴᴀꜱɪᴍɪ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ’ꜱ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ The Tawantinsuyin speak a bizarre language that is different from all languages known amongst Heartlanders, Highlanders, and even Farfolk, for it bears little resemblance to any other tongue but its own. Their language is called Runasimi, a direct translation would be “The People's Language”. Common is a hard thing for Tawantinsuyin to learn, and it takes quite some time to master common in its entirety. When they first start learning common, they will speak as if having no emotion at all, very straightforward at all times. This method of speech is to their detriment; people adept at using common language can recognize its metaphors and mannerisms, but the Tawantinsuyin cannot. Even further, their dialect of common would have that air as if they are always translating what they state, with many errors along the way. ──────────────────────────────────── ᴛʀᴀɪᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏɪɴ The Tawantinsuyin are of their own ethnicity and culture; a collective overall appearance, though with certain outliers. They tend to grow fairly tall and muscular whilst keeping to a broad build, and age slowly and peacefully despite their bellicose nature. A Tawantinsuyin typically gains their first white hairs around 120 years of age, but soon after the age of 135, they age rapidly until their death. Their skin is the color of bronze or copper, a metallic look with red undertones, a reflection of the lands they name home. Their hair is usually of two compositions: straight or curly hair. Oddly, their hair maintains a silk-like texture with a most wondrous sheen, a gloss ever so evident. The colors of their hair are one of two hues, with one being far too rare; nearly all Tawantinsuyin have deep brown or black hair, though there are a few born with a vibrant crimson. This strange hue is not like that of those gingers, for this is something of an unknown phenomenon that is believed to be connected with the Hatun Kuntur. Their eyes are plain, near black as coal, a deep brown, unless of mixed heritage. With facial hair, the Tawantinsuyin have a strange function of not being able to grow a full beard in the slightest. Even if you are to find a Tawantinsuyin with a display of facial hair, it is so lacking in volume and so light that it is undeniably ugly, and they are encouraged to shave such disgust from their visage. ──────────────────────────────────── ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏᴜʀꜱ The Tawantinsuyin hold a stoic behavior, honest in all regards, rugged like stone in their harsh speaking. These people value martial prowess and strength above everything else; their youth learn to fight from birth, and are commonly seen upon the backs of their fathers in the middle of battle. Only the Strong; Weakness is not Tolerated. Scholarly pursuits are discouraged unless in the regard of faith or poetry conducted alongside warfare. Words are a coward’s substitute for weapons, laws, and corruption cannot settle disputes when a blade is faster than the wagging of a tongue. Through it all, however, these people, despite their stoicism, are ones of depth able to embrace the arts of life with respect, though their tongue remains one to be seen due to their need to translate all they say. Honor is a matter of diligence, and such is a vice to these people in tandem with its act as a virtue. It is born, but it is also gained and lost via the deeds of one's own. The pursuit of glory and honor requires the avenging of slights; it allows the child to transform into that Awqaylli. That Warrior. The Tawantinsuyin are immensely violent, known as barbarians for their practices within war. It is common for these people to scalp, skin, or amputate the foes they have defeated. These people do not whelm in the face of adversity, for even if their head is upon a block with an axe raised above, they remain rocksteady. ──────────────────────────────────── ᴄᴇʀᴇᴍᴏɴɪᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴꜱᴜʏɪɴ ᴡᴀʀᴀᴄʜɪᴋᴜʏ, ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴇᴍᴏɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴀɢᴇ The Tawantinsuyin rise to adulthood upon the age of sixteen, their ceremony one of reflection, a delve into the past of their people. These youth are placed amongst the peaks of a high mountain, where they drink the sacred tea of their people, “Bah’say”. Upon the consumption of this tea, the youth are placed within a trance, and the visions they witness would be those of the very Pachakuteq. All would be revealed to these transitioning youths: the destruction of the world around them, the falling of the stars, and that bleeding sun. Such chaos would ebb through their form, causing great violence to stir, and they would be brought to fight those among them. After such a duel, win or lose, they prove themselves ready, and from such will they bear witness to the Hatun Kuntur. Born Again Under The Sun. ᴛᴀᴋᴀɴᴀᴋᴜʏ, ᴀ ꜰᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴜᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ During the times of summer, for the Tawantinsuyin, anger grows and festers in a way unseen by many others. Deaths were once plentiful during this time, murders alongside such. As such, a grand festival in honor of their faith within the Hatun Kuntur was formed. Born to deal with this pent-up aggression. Takanakuy, in common “The Fight”, where all Tawantinsuyin gather within the square of their community, and brawl until their ire is smothered. Duels or mass fights, quarrels, disputes, all shall be settled upon that day. ɪɴᴛɪ ʀᴀʏᴍɪ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴄʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ During the ages of great peace and happiness for the Tawantinsuyin, there is a call for ceremony and festivities; For when the Sun shines, the Tawantinsuyin shines back. This festival is a celebration of the Hatun Kuntur and its victory over the great Pachakuteq. In this festival, the Tawantinsuyin dance from dawn to dusk, drink their sacred teas, play games of simulated battles, and sacrifice llamas in honor of those many Huaca. This festival is the truest symbolization of those four realms made whole, granting that feel of security and home, a grace of the Hatun Kuntur.

↢ ⊰ ☼ ⊱ ↣ Thereupon that fateful siege under the blazing sun did Cesari charge alongside that Prince Martinus, his falchion in grasp and his haubergeon ringing with each swaying movement. And there did that Princeling of Savoy hear those words of the Bloodwyrm, “Climb! Breach this fortress!”, and with no risk of himself did that youth, carrying the banner of the black sun, rush upon that dwarven castle- rising as a cascade of fury as trebuchets broke stone upon stone. He found himself upon those ramparts, and there would that teen of 15 summers find his blade warmed in the blood of his foes, four did he count. Four fell by his hand. One upon that first charge up those ladders, his blade cleaved into their helm, the second was a dwarf attempting to climb back to the safety of his brigade, stopped by a stab in the back by that falchion wrought of castle-forged steel. The third was in the chaos of the full imperial force charging against that brigade, that Savoyard’s blade cleaving the head of one who charged him, upon the end their gorget finished. The last was upon the peak of that Dwarven Fortress, an elf fighting for their life with their spear, but that life would meet its end as that blood of Ashford gave single combat, kicking them flying to the grounds below… the elf turned to paste. That Fortress had met its end, and the sun had risen upon it, the Black Sun of Savoy’s banner alongside that verdant flag of Lorraine, and that Burgundy flag of the Imperium. . . “Blood For Ashford!”

Name: Tupaq Amaru Item: Bold Blue's Tooth Bid: 500 mina

Much of this is severe Eminent Powercreep.

༺⊰☼⊱༻ There upon the Peak of the Dwarvish Fortress did the Tawantinsuyin warband under the Kondorisi known as Tupaq Amaru stood, cries of victory after laying death upon many an uruk, dwarf, and elf. With each one that fell by their hand, another head was claimed, and upon that peak they stood, raising their quarry and calling aloud. . . “KALLPASAPAKUNALLA!” Words that are held deep within each of the Warband, words that will be shouted by the Tawantinsuyin people until the end of days, for it means… Only The Strong.

This Mysticism Rewrite is very cool in how its written, however there are many issues that seem in a sense very "power-creepy", perhaps intentional or not, all the same. Just for small instance Deadbreath, there is no mention of Seer's being able to see through it [no etc. can lead to just saying no which is just a minor gripe but can lead to other shi] or Templar's Fervent Flare Cleansing it [which is a big thing about that spell in lore, cleansing holy magic divine light blah blah blah], and in general across the lore page many contradicting or very lackluster/vague redlines that are too theatric to provide any reasonable information about the abilities and are seemingly overly strong. Flat out tho, I like the magic write, the formatting is far better than last and though it needs some polish i think its fair to say that Mysticism with this rewrite can finally stand as its own magic now.

༺⊰☼⊱༻ Thereupon, that battlefield within those woods, the Tawantinsuyin Kondorisi, Tupaq Amaru, gave succor to an uruk attempting to crawl away- an uruk of clan Lur, executed by his hand. Despite the carnage that took place within that forest, there remained not a single fallen ally. He and his heir’s bronze visage gleamed in smiles as the sun hit their forms through the canopy of leaves up above, a symbol of victory. Within his grasp, his ancestral blade of luminescent steel warmed in the blood of southerners, being utilized to cleave the head of his foe, a worthwhile addition to his grand supply of trophies. There were few words spoken by the Kondorisi, though one statement remained present, the cry of battle for his kin. “ᴋᴀʟʟᴘᴀꜱᴀᴘᴀᴋᴜɴᴀʟʟᴀ.”

Arcane Scions in their current form are fine/balanced, However what I would say is that the range should be buffed from 6 to 8 blocks or even 6 to 12, or at the very least keep scions at 6 block range and allow them to use arcane focus to double their range to 12 with the item. All in all tho, these are my personal beliefs.

Bro Cannot Read LOL