Volutional

Ri'Quorak stays silent, gazing blankly upon his Tlatlanni. Slowly, his raises his trident, and copies Rynsuho's previously shown beat, and taps it loud for other Kharajyr to copy. He then chants loud at the end of the fourth beat of each phrase; "Fedr pmuut!" - With blood... http://soundcloud.com/volutional/the-tridents-beat

Good luck :( Thanks for droppin' by.

[ *facepalms* GMT. Can't believe I missed that out ]

The Spree of Solidarity _________________________________ A hanging, well-made piece of paper decorates many trees in Karakatua. All normal Kha would likely see this. ___________________ Welcome, Kharajyr, to The Spree of Solidarity. Here, we shall celebrate, commune, and think of those who are here, gone and to come. First on our list; Tlatlanni Morthawl. Our trusted, and mighty Tlatlanni. Strong, couragous. Pride-filled Tlatlanni. ___________________ We shall feast in his name, and celebrate his strong rule. For he brings all Kharajyr happiness, in their dire times. ___________________ The feast and celebration shall be in two of the Elves' days, on [ Saturday - 9PM (Debateable in Skype) ]. Please, you are urged to attend. This is our Tlatlanni, and our Nation. We shall prosper. _________________________________ Those banned from this occasion; - Cub Zarek

Accepted! Welcome to the Kharajyr Please note; The Kharajyr application doesn't account for a Villain Application If you'd like to be in the Kharajyr Skype chat, give me a PM with your Skype name :)

Great application, Accepted Just one thing to remember; The Kharajyr application doesn't account for a villain application Other than that, good application, welcome to Karakatua :)

Locked. There's no point sitting and saying we don't RP on our own island, when you yourself didn't actually RP on it when the time came.

I'd recommend sticking with your current character. The Kha community is definitely on the rise at the moment, I'd like to see you in it again soon.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyIliL2Ciss There she sat, inside the great atrium of The Mage's College. Quiet, silent. Quaint, one may like to call it for old times sake. The Red one was there, thinking of her losses, counting her victories. Was it really worth continuing in this abyssal nightmare? Of course. But at what cost... Idriel sank into a meditative state. Out of reluctance, and nessecity. She slipped gently and as quiet as the halls around her. Choirs beckoned, and voices sung down at her. She stayed, listened, and embraced them. They spoke strange words, that even now she cannot begin to understand. Yr dyza, dra naj kromm 'aon orj daon, Dy or arj drod kromm rnaoda zyna dror z'kd vaon. Kaykma 'ymm cy', c'd drai 'ymm cnaog. Kdorjyrk yr dra corgk yv orryardk, 'ymm iy'n ky'an o'oga. Jaak yrkyja iy'nkamv, yk dra ork'an dy ori k'ggma yn r'yg. Vyn yr dra arj, dra ocikk 'oydk vyn omm. She stayed there. In the atrium. And she waited as this voice echoed, and echoed. Distant, and ever more so. Idriel was beginning to mentally recover from everything that has happened. Salamandra's death, somebody she held so dear to, even in the sight of anger and lust. Goliath's disappearance, which angered her to a great extent, made her more red than ever. But most of all... Her Father's negligence. She was finally, after so long, willing to forgive. But it is not her that should be ready, it is him. For she has caused so much turmoil and stress in his life and soul. He had Ascended, and she had not. She had not done so because she was not quick to forgive. Which seemed smart, logical and clever. It wasn't. She paid for that with her failure to complete anything in her life. And finally, when all that she held dear to her was in her grasp; Her magic training, her Father in literally the same room... She lost it. Red was taking over. So she said no. She said no to the dreams, to the visions and to the songs, and she sang her own. Nargyr vyndr dra knaod, Rokd y'd dra jnaoj orj roda, Cnyrk vyndr zi rycymydi, Mad yd cnyrk... Dra mykrd yr za. And so it was done. She was reborn in her own, self created image. She was proud of it. But she was now different, so she must be with difference itself. A new place, people and story.