Ibn Khaldun

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You all behave in this thread please.

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𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

The snows that packed the mountainside buried the grave, but the tombstone still marked in one's mind where it was appropriate to step and not to step in relation to the buried Cunimund. Grimhildr came that night, swaddled in many furs and lips wet with many prayers. She crouched beside Cunimund's grave and traced her fingers against the gothic engraving of the tombstone; its rendering clearly of Waldenian make. She looked towards the earthenwall that seemed to blend in the background across from the grave. A solitary figure stood on the ramparts, bearing the only dark colors in contrast to the wintry white.

"Hvarr reidiz oiman?" [¹]

"Ogbek Grimhildr, swesor Morgause." [²]

"Hwaet reidijoz oiman abo?" [³]

"Reidek oiman ogbi rix," [⁴] Grimhildr stated plainly. She watched as the figure withdrew from view, stepping off the ramparts. He eventually emerged, stepping within inches from Grimhildr's face.

"Sprejekagh wǣd ach Almaris, eigi siprifek wǣd di ju. Anuanek Odoacer, makos Brennus Bardo," [⁵] Odoacer affirmed. He turned back to the earthenwall, adding, "Long has the village been razed and buried in snow and ash. I expect you'll need my help to rebuild?"

13 hours ago, Wizry said:

a million years shall the runescape players be remembered.

build the grand exchange.

 

I think as a means of rolling out a regional auction house, an in-game location(s) that is between nations would be neat. I've got an idea that I might crash-test in-game towards this location(s).

Generally, as someone who has done plenty of merchant roleplay through the Cingedoz, the existence or lack thereof of an auction house hasn't really affected merchant roleplay viability.

No need to get into back & forths on this type of thread. Comment on the merits of the suggested amendment, everything else can be handled off the forums via Discord [politely].

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

The snows that packed the mountainside buried the grave, but the tombstone still marked in one's mind where it was appropriate to step and not to step in relation to the buried Cunimund. Grimhildr came that night, swaddled in many furs and lips wet with many prayers. She crouched beside Cunimund's grave and traced her fingers against the gothic engraving of the tombstone; its rendering clearly of Waldenian make. She looked towards the earthenwall that seemed to blend in the background across from the grave. A solitary figure stood on the ramparts, bearing the only dark colors in contrast to the wintry white.

"Hvarr reidiz oiman?" [¹]

"Ogbek Grimhildr, swesor Morgause." [²]

"Hwaet reidijoz oiman abo?" [³]

"Reidek oiman ogbi rix," [⁴] Grimhildr stated plainly. She watched as the figure withdrew from view, stepping off the ramparts. He eventually emerged, stepping within inches from Grimhildr's face.

"Sprejekagh wǣd ach Almaris, eigi siprifek wǣd di ju. Anuanek Odoacer, makos Brennus Bardo," [⁵] Odoacer affirmed. He turned back to the earthenwall, adding, "Long has the village been razed and buried in snow and ash. I expect you'll need my help to rebuild?"

THE EARLIEST ILLATIANS
FROM WANING PLAIN TO PASSION’S FLAME

Corralled Spirits on the Diminishing Plain

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

The year 1257 marked the ascension of the Black Dragon to the throne of Oren, that oldest of kingdoms organized by Men; the kingdom that would be made greatest by Horen's stratagems in defeating & consolidating all other kingdoms & polities such as Salvus, Seventis, the Teutonic Order, & others during the era of Asulon. Emperor Horen V assayed the mettle of all of Mankind, choosing which to forge together into one sceptre and which to leave in the slag-heap. He intended his imperial demesne to encompass & include the Heartlanders, the Highlanders, & that people of the periphery - the Farfolk.

Of all the Farfolk, the people who lived furthest from the burgeoning imperial civilization were the Subudai. A nomadic people who warred & resided on the northern borders of the old Kingdom of Seventis, they rode from end to endless end of the great arid plains that rolled out before the stone walls and hillocks where the Empire eventually drew its borders. These nomads lived carefree and without feudal obligation; they raised livestock in stampeding herds, caroused boisterously among themselves, and made merry warpaths & incursions into neighboring settlements & countrysides including that of old Alras, Seventis, & the Volsung.

This libertine freedom they enjoyed would not last for long after the ascension of Horen V. The Subudain nomads, making up a tribal confederacy, enjoyed war when they merely had small polities to molest & maraud; they became reticent when they saw great forts with banners of black crosses & white roses fencing in where they could ride on the borders of their plains. Defensive battlements cast wide nooses around the necks of the Subudai, their plains began to roll up like a scroll with less and less land to live & ride upon. Agents of the Empire sought out individual tribes' leaders in hopes of winning them over, placing the noose snug against the neck of these Farfolk.

Portrait of Charlenoyre | Sharlaz Noyan

c. 1275 Imperial

Images: Joseph Feely, Batmagnai Tuvsaikhan via ArtStation

One tribal chieftain who heeded the agents of Horen's Empire was Sharlaz Noyan, also known as 'Charagai' disparagingly by his Subudai counterparts - the nickname translating to 'molting [skin]'. He accepted an agreement rendered by the Empire where the tribe of Sharlaz would migrate & settle among the Auvergnians. In the lands of the Auvergnians, the tribe of Sharlaz encountered Southerons who he arranged marriages with.

Sharlaz Noyan, who would become known as Charlenoyre - a bastardization of his Subudain name in the Auvergnian language, spent the remainder of his life as a patriarch of his Southeron-Subudain family attending to the education of his children & their children as well as the assimilation of his Subudain counterparts into the rich culture of the Auvergnians. By the time the descendants would traverse to Anthos, a distinct culture emerged whereby the Subudain equestrian tradition & love for merchantry became intertwined with the Auvergnian passion for the arts & fervor of faith; promoted by a Southeron-Subudain man known as Illo the Elder.

The blossom of the Illatian rose began when Mankind entered the Fringe. Illo the Elder and his progeny forged the Illatian culture through the promotion of a minor house known as House Visconti during Emperor Peter Chivay's reign of the Holy Orenian Empire.

On 10/27/2023 at 9:21 PM, RIGOR said:

 

**** that.

 

I got no place in this argument because I don't really care anymore because combat in general on here just falls down to who is the most annoying grinder (whether it's netherite gear or gate-kept carbarum ST items).

When anybody becomes an adult and they have a combination of things such as school and work and other life factors weighing in, it is completely reprehensible to tell them to open up their schedule more. (BTW most people on LoTC are adults, it just happens that many of them happen to be mal-adjusted ones).

The truth is that as an adult I have less time to play either way and that if it weren't for having a group that's willing to gear me, there'd be little place for me in the "competitive arena" segment of this server, CRP or Mechanical wise. Which is OK if people are fine with that environment, but personally that's why I invest my time RPing in private servers with friends who care about story/DnD game-play because you're not gonna find impartial rulings here.

 

Truth is that the current system is very hostile to people who have to come and go and have a normal (non-gamer) schedule. Many people are not willing to invest 10+ hours a week into the server when they have bills to pay, a degree to earn, or other hobbies (guitar/judo or something). Server should be designed so that it's friendly to RP, not so that people need to invest large amounts of time into progression.

In some areas (LC), this is respected. In other areas (Combat) it is not. Events are a good exception since when run well, an event is a good thing to set time aside for like DnD. But for random one-off encounters with people who don't know decency or etiquette? Why should anybody have to sit through that and then potentially have to spend hours negotiating or discussing intervention with Moderation?

 

Maybe there's no perfect fix; but the server needs to move in the direction of alleviating time constraints and enabling friendlier ways for players to interact peer-to-peer, rather than exacerbating pre-existing tensions between groups with rule-sets that are often biased or informal.

I fucks with this.

What is the context of this?

If this passes, I am ODSTing from the top of the map in full diamond on anyone romance RPing on Halloween and PKing them.

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Odoacer lights a candle, resting in his bunk in the Castle Priory of the Order of St Jude. He began transcribing the work.

Odoacer delivered a transcribed document in the city square of Winburgh. He continues to write his accounts of the Battle for Lemon Hill in the Castle Priory of the Order of St. Jude.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

The sound of a mallet echoed.

"Pray for us!"

With three more corners came three more strikes of a mallet whose refrain was 'Pray for us!'. The Priority of St. Jude swelled in numbers that evening; the recesses of its church and feast hall filled with members of the Order, clergymen & women, and families from the surrounding Veletzian country. The Grand Master of the Order, Halston, made the rounds followed by a select few of his members with carts and plates. Both food and talk they exchanged as they made a beeline through the feast hall to see to every person getting their fill of meal and drink.

A page pushed through the crowds, poking his head over shoulders enough to look to and fro. "Halston! Halston!" the page cried, at the same time as a burly Highlander whose salt-and-pepper hair and aged features beckoned Halston to defer to him first. The page discreetly pushed towards Halston as the Highlander unsheathed his falx and pivoted the end of its blade against the floor and knelt. Halston felt a scroll of paper push against his closed hand and took hold of it. As the Highlander spoke, of avenging his dead kinsman and of pledging himself to the Order, he drew his gaze down to the scroll then unrolled between his two hands.

Halston motioned for the Highlander to rise. The Grand Master embraced the Highlander by the shoulders and bade him meet him next day. He turned to find a table to stand on and stood.

"Lemon Hill is under attack!"

"To Arms!"

"This heresy cannot stand!"

As quickly as both church and feast hall filled, it emptied. Pages and squires ran from stable and armory, retrieving horse and armor for those men and women who composed the Judite contingent. Within the hour, a column of knights, spearmen, and archers rode away orderly from the Castle Priory towards Lemon Hill. As they passed Winburgh and Stassion, hedge knights and rangers decided to join. With night fully cast across the sky, navigating became difficult until the light cast by burning barns on the western face of Lemon Hill led them the rest of the way.

Halston commanded the column to divide in three as they approached the burning structure which the Undead decided to take up as a defensive position. He gave the command of two columns to Sir Gaspard and Father Nerium while he took command of the third. Knights and soldiers advanced with one column marching around the building with its walls to their left, one column carefully entering the structure itself, and the last marching a wide flank around the foot of the hill and marching in behind the Undead force.

Oblivion described the willingness the Undead fought with, they fought with an unwavering morale despite their defense being forlorn. As axe-head, blade, and spear bit into their bones and with a slowly caving barn-roof over their heads; the af Død dead-men with Deadmund as their leader tried as they could to oppose the Judite advance. Halston faced Deadmund, the former choking for breath with the barn filling with smoke yet the latter unmoved. A cavalryman crashed through the brittle barn-doors from the other side and tossed Deadmund forth; hoofbeats prying away ribs and appendages from his body as it stampeded in fright at the fire above.

One of the soldiers grabbed Halston from the back, tackling him just outside the barn as the structure collapsed in on itself. They both looked up as soldiers chanted, cheered, and prayed with their foes dissembled and piled before their feet all around the destroyed barn.

@Chorale__ @Lirinya @Jentos feel free to hop in the Discord, I've got the sub-category for nomad planning up and a separate role to give.

If we can come to a consensus on how the nomadic culture is written out and enough players take interest, I think we can try to get land from an existing nation on the periphery to test out the "lobbying" method similar to how the Order of the Dead Men lobby to provide their antagonist events and NLs get on board with the idea. Barring that, we can explore a lair method to get the land needed to set up camp.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

The sound of a mallet echoed.

"Pray for us!"

"Bidjanek GOD abo aingidiz!" [¹]

With three more corners came three more strikes of a mallet whose refrain was both 'Pray for us!' and a foreign refrain in a guttural accent. The Priority of St. Jude swelled in numbers that evening; the recesses of its church and feast hall filled with members of the Order, clergymen & women, and families from the surrounding Veletzian country. Odoacer found a windowsill to sit on and thanked those members of St. Jude who ferried lemon cakes and sandwiches on platters; he bowed his head as he accepted what food he could get his hands on.

"Are you from around these parts?" a short, stout man asked Odoacer; he approached him with his own share of meal and looked Odoacer up and down.

"'Fraid not. I suppose I've no home at present having newly arrived here in Aevos. I lived in the village of Brigwindosdur in Almaris; a snow-packed hamlet that was founded above the cavern-pass into the Dwedmar colony of Khron'hundmar," Odoacer answered between bites. He chuckled and blew a few crumbs of cake as he saw the stout man look confused at the strange name for a village.

"It means White Hill Village in Spraekjom, it is the language spoken by a tribe I once belonged to - the Cingedoz," Odoacer followed.

"Cingedoz! I like them I do, my best mate Cunimund is one of 'um!" the man exclaimed. A woman dressed in clergy garb approached.

"You niet heard the news? Cunimund ist dead," the woman confided. The man looked between her and Odoacer, his face sorrowful. Odoacer offered nothing in reply save for a thousand-yard stare that seemed to bore through the wooden walls of the feast hall.

"How did he die?" the man asked.

"Slain and beheaded, I fear perhaps by vampyres," the woman answered.

Odoacer took in a sudden breath, his awareness returning in a rush. He craned his head to look for the Grand Master and whistled in his direction to call his attention. The man and the woman watched as Odoacer met the Grand Master halfway, withdrew his falx, and knelt with its blade against the floor. Some in the feast-hall turned and watched the strange exchange.

"Justice must be wrought from eldritch hands. I, Odoacer, pledge myself to your Order. I cast off the mantle of arrogance and self-conceit and swear to serve humbly you and your Orden-members till my dying breath. I will hunt all that is eldritch and evil, the dēofoloz [²], endlessly for having ensnared my kinsman and slew him," Odoacer pledged sternly, his forehead embracing the warming surface of the falx-pommel.

He saw from the corner of his eye the stout man mimicking the same action as he; the man named himself Boon in his own same pledge. The Grand Master looked between Odoacer, Boon, and a scroll passed to him from a youth who darted back through the feast-hall crowd. Odoacer and Boon stood as the Grand Master motioned them to.

"Come to me the next Saint's night that I might accept your oath in full," the Grand Master explained, pausing before hoisting himself up on top of a table and announcing "Lemon Hill is under attack!"

As quickly as both church and feast hall filled, it emptied. Odoacer jogged to a nearby stable and asked the stablehand to hasten preparing his horse. Within the hour, a column of knights, spearmen, and archers rode away orderly from the Castle Priory towards Lemon Hill. With night fully cast across the sky, navigating became difficult until Odoacer saw a burning barn like a beacon attracting him and the soldiers like moth to a flame.

The contingent divided into three, Odoacer and Boon following the lead of a man who asserted a command; the pair followed Sir Gaspard in a right flank around the burning barn to find themselves face to face with Korfiz af Død. Odoacer withdrew his falx and held it over Sir Gaspard's shoulder like a billhook while Boon held his spear and watched the back and flank of their smaller unit. Sir Gaspard led the charge with Odoacer and Ser Bronwyn just behind him. Korfiz bashed Sir Gaspard back with his shield before Odoacer had time to bring the falx down to stop it; Odoacer took a one-two step as he lowered his falx to line up a thrust against Korfiz's collarbone.

"Nemetagh Bodbmakos, lǣstanosju ek! [³] Venerated Bodbmakos, inspire my blade to heroic deed! For Cunimund!" Odoacer exclaimed & Boon repeated.

Korfiz fell backwards as two soldiers came behind, one tugging him back by the chainmaille shirt and the other lunging for his eyesocket. Both Odoacer and the other soldier skewered the Undead peon, Ser Bronwyn cut into his thigh. Their enemy began to fall limp, folding at the joints lifelessly. Everyone recoiled away from the burning barn to their left as the roof collapsed in a last gasp of smoke and embers.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Night quiet fell upon Bodbwodz, a starry veil glimmered overhead. Cunimund closed his eyes as he felt mountain air buffet his mantle drawn across his shoulders. The cold feels good against my head after my feet walked the hot ash of the Fiendlands. He stood watch in the tallest of the thatch-roofed towers, striding from one end to one end; keeping watch across the valleys of the Reinmaren and the Crownlands. A cruel death that Um'thraka warned me about is farthest in this serenity. His head swiveled, looking over the meadhall to Sendrenx's woodwork shop, pausing and facing a figure pacing between crannogs capped with fur walking in from the north.

"Ormar bjarga mér, this is the most civilized place I've seen!" the figure exclaimed, lofting a hand up as Cunimund made a motion with his carnyx warhorn in hand.

"That is a first ta' hear, most find us ta' be on ta' precipice af' savagery compared to ta' Heartlanders who live in ta' valleys below from Lemon Hill ta' Whitespire," Cunimund remarked with an inoffensive chortle before greeting, "Wæshæl! No harm will come ta' ye' here."

Cunimund looked the man up and down, dressed in thick Highlander garb more suited for winter than for temperate clime. He saw the man drum his fingers nonchalantly against a belt-purse laden with goods near to spilling out.

"Ogbiju andlet oiman! We can sit in ta' meadhall down ta' hill a few paces so ye' can unpack wot' goods an' belongings ye've brought an' kick yer' feet up fer' a spell," Cunimund suggested, opening a palm in the direction of the establishment and waving the man through with the other. They both went downhill and reached the meadhall, the pair shuffling through stone mugs until two were found clean and filled them up with spiced metheglin.

"Skál!" the man excitedly cried before downing an entire mug's worth of mead. He wiped his soaked beard with the back of a hand and began to undo knots along his belt purse; he had seal pelts, Hyspian bracelets of gold and sapphire, and octagonal coins of no distinct minting. In response, Cunimund stood up and fetched polished fragments of amber, rounded beads of precious coral, hides from bighorn rams, bronzen torcs, and a few books. The two sat at their table, sliding different goods across from one another as they negotiated an exchange.

"The goat hide interests me, as does the amber, and the armhringr too," the man said, pointing to the bronzen torcs at the end of his statement.

"I'll take ta' seal pelts an' ta' bracelets af' gold an' sapphire," Cunimund said with a tone of agreement. The two exchanged goods for goods, three seal pelts and three Hyspian bracelets for two pieces of amber, two rolls of hide, and two torcs with terminals shaped in the form of crows.

"I have one question for you o' member of the Cingedoz tribe" the man began, leaning his head forward and removing his fur cap. He rested it gingerly on the table, the oblique bill facing Cunimund. Cunimund nodded, smiling with the exchange of trade and words.

"I want to fight one of your tribe, is this possible?" the man asked, as matter-of-factly as he spoke while trading. Cunimund eyes lit up with full attention.

"Would ye' accept me as duel-partner?" Cunimund asked in return. The man nodded.

"Let us agree to an arm, a shield, an' a sidearm. Neh' armor an' we shall fight upon ta' earthenwalls facin' Merryweather," the two men nodded as they stood from the table in the meadhall. They went one after the other outside and towards the walls.

"I assume like most southlanders, you are disinclined to a fight to the death?"

"By mine honor, I accept t'is duel ta' be one to ta' death. Let it naught be known that a Cingedoz warrior flees ta' prospect af' perishing," Cunimund responded. By then, the two stood face to face, ten paces from one another. Cunimund, having chosen a falx as his main arm, brings the blade to rest flat against his nose and his lips embraced against frigid steel.

"You are the first one down here to gain my respect o' Cingedoz," the man conceded as he removed his lamellar hauberk and woolen undershirt. His torso glistened in the moonlight with a dozen freshly healed-over scars; his arms and legs seemed like vine-stakes with swirling blue tattoos winding around them shaped in serpentine iconography. He held out a round-shield and held a spear underhand.

The Baron began the duel with a single step, crouching slightly and holding his scutum shield forward to afford him coverage from neck to knee. He kept his falx-blade upright and behind the shield. His opponent stepped forward in unison, the two soon coming to clash.

Metal against metal, Cunimund's opponent thrust his spear forward and struck against the boss of the scutum shield and worked it over the top of Cunimund's shield. The Cingedoz warrior ducked, pressing his right ear against the back of his shield and swiped his falx from edge to edge against the top lip of the shield; his opponent's spear clanked against the side of the shield as the falx pushed its shaft from over the top of the scutum. The opponent sidestepped as Cunimund pressed forward.

Cunimund felt the boss of his opponent's round-shield drum him in the right shoulder, he continued with the momentum of his falx-swing and the opponent's hook to spin completely around and bore down falx-steel against spear-shaft. The Cingedoz took the opportunity to press his scutum shield against his chest as the opponent's spear was thrown back. He is smiling.

The opponent hiked up a boot and kicked Cunimund with all his northern might. The shield whined, wood warping slightly, as the boot squarely met the shield and sent Cunimund wheeling backwards. The Baron winced, feeling a sharp pain in his back as he was sent flying into the earthenwall parapet; up and over the Baron fell off onto the other side.

Um'thraka warned me that death would give chase to me upon accepting his grimoire, but this is a good death. A hale death dictated by honor. Cunimund gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of him, having fallen off the wall and onto the snow caped ground below. Strong breath came to him before clear vision, a blurry figure grew to nearly encompass his sight. His hands reacted instinctively, gripping a cold shaft of wood that stuck out of his chest. Yellow-green eyes met his as his face froze, a death mask set in rigor.

"Thank you good warrior. . ," the opponent bore witness.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮

Men, women, and horses streamed up through the Langkette Mountains towards Bodbwodz. Ser Ferdinand Barclay led a troop of Minitzers towards the Cingedoz village as towers of smoke teetered with the carrying winds lofted above. The first to arrive crossed themselves and bowed their heads with modesty. A decapitated body with an impalement wound bounced with all its dead weight, having been strung up from the earthenwalls that faced Merryweather. Scattered belongings including two books written by the Baron laid around a slight impression in the ground below.

The firefighters passed through the walls and found crannogs, hovels, and towers crumbling in on themselves in a burning inferno. A single set of footprints and drag marks from stools dotted a beeline from the meadhall to the centre of the village. Only the runestone circle stood unaffected, though scorch marks from flame flashes and coughed embers streaked the limestone.

1 hour ago, Chorale__ said:

as if i do not already have enough projects of my own, this is very interesting!

For you @Chorale__ and anyone else interested in the prospects of this project, I'll create a sub-category in this Discord to see we can throw ideas on the board and see what sticks: https://discord.gg/fmYNvhrxxJ

A topic that popped up recently (kudos to @Javertfor bringing up the discussion) regarding nomadic entities & player-groups on LotC has sparked my interest and an offer to any who would be interested. Would players like to see a detailed (culturally [with example], aesthetically and in terms of in-game presence) nomadic group on LotC? If so, would they be willing to play a main or alternate character as part of this group? I am not going to lead it (for the 100th time lmao), but I would love to help someone lead the group, create its lore, and generate innovative ways to keep players interested.

2 hours ago, JuliusAakerlund said:

 

While true that Nomadic Groups in real life certainly had less to lose than a hunkered down civilization, there were still stakes. What I try to point at more firmly is that in real life there's actual consequence to your actions. If you go to war and fail you've lost many precious individuals, someone's son, someone's daughter - perhaps your father. To the bad faith actor none of these elements matter, their characters are a service to a goal - not to roleplay. If they die they simply return with a new name and the same position, to fight another day - towards their goal. While to those of good faith the loss of their character is a large one, months of work and roleplay lost in a conflict - one without worth. To make a conflict worthy of someone losing such time investment, player, nation or otherwise there must be equal stakes. While I wish I could believe that a mechanic like this, if introduced, would not be abused by the bad faith actors. I fear it will and unless you make a overcomplicated system chances are slim it would ever see the light of day. I have myself lead a nomadic group (albeit peaceful). My words speak not towards nomadic groups having no place on the server, but rather as a war group. I strongly believe in the beauty and roleplay potential that nomadic groups can and have brought to the server. Do I think there are ways for Nomadic groups to participate in war in the current system? I certainly think so. Though most of those groups will have a piece of "land" or a location they call "home" that can be conquered. I think to me the question becomes more how would you prevent nomadic groups being able to warclaim nations from being abused? 

 

While promoting conflict and breaking SoL Roleplay is certainly a part of the greater experience of LoTC. I think it's also fair to say that there is a lot of stake in those situations. In my belief I wager to say that there are very few instances where a nation facing a horde of enemies that have no tangible assets, or any sort of consequence for losing, would be willing to bite this bullet, and why should they? We're all volunteers at the end of the day. It's important to remember that the stakes here are based around respecting the time and investment of the playerbase. While I wish I could be as hopeful as you on the subject I suppose I am more of a realist. While we have our disagreements I have nothing but respect for you, as I have had for many years. I hope you have a good week @Ibn Khaldun and at the end of the day, I am just a retired LoTCer. These are just my thoughts, no more, no less.

 

Side note: I support raids and pre-planned battles or agreed upon warclaims. My critique is entirely based on and against the idea of nomadic groups (without land of their own) being able to Warclaim anyone wantonly.

Before I start my reply, let me preface by saying that I respect your opinion and appreciate you replying in a neutral tone rather than a belligerent or defensive tone. Thank you:

I certainly do not deny the existence of bad-faith actors. I do not know what all maps you have played on before retiring, I was only around for 1.0 Aegis, 2.0 Asulon, then helped firespirit44 run the antagonists in I think the 5.0 or 6.0 maps before returning last year to a semi-active playing position. I think it would benefit the discussion if we name and explain who the bad-faith actors are and give as detailed examples of their bad-faith actions as possible so we can identify "red flags" in general both from a player's perspective & moderation perspective.

Perhaps it is the nostalgic & idyllic times of Aegis, but I personally have difficulty wrapping my head around the existing system of "warclaims." I think nomadic player-groups should forfeit the ability to "claim" land in a warclaim, but can "claim" a parcel of land to leave a camp if they succeed in defeating a sedentary nation. Likewise, perhaps harkening too much to the "Aegis" days, Im struggling to understand why an attacked nation wouldn't be able to find the nomadic camp and raze it to the ground.

I think my question regarding naming and explaining bad-faith actors & their actions will go a long way to working through a lot of the consternation towards promotion of conflict roleplay. I remember when I returned in Almaris, a consistent issue I observed and anecdotally heard was the sheer sluggishness & stagnation of the map changing to reinvigorate interest in the majority of players who would be bored of only Slice of Life roleplay. I think players need to come to the table more to negotiate good-faith conflict and I am seeing it in this map: Petsch2k and his "Deadmund Order/Order of the Deadmen" undead-thrall group is a great example - he has negotiated with various nation leaders that he will attack, sets parameters on what he will do (if he fully succeeds in an attack) and does a good job fostering conflict where both sides have been enjoying it (see Petsch2k's ST application for anecdotal evidence).

Cheers mate and have a wonderful week yourself!

PS: I read your side note and re-read the thread. I wouldn't be opposed to nomadic groups being restricted from warclaims that "claim" land, if anything, I think culturally nomadic groups can reasonably be expected to avoid "settling" for cultural or other reasons.

I'm finna cry like this when I collect that tens of thousands in backpay minas.

9 hours ago, Jihnyny said:

  Reveal hidden contents

this drives the masculine urge within me to go back to my tribal roots and fight for my tribe and honor

 

3 hours ago, NotEvilAtAll said:

Sadly nomadic lifestyle does not work well with a tile system and minas fees, applications, etc. required to move your realm. Maybe a lair could work but again it’d take a lot of effort to move it around.

I personally believe that good lobbying from good-faith players can usually overcome this obstacle. I have had good outcomes from simply sitting with Nation Leaders and negotiating reasonable "encampments" being pitched.

2 hours ago, JuliusAakerlund said:

For event applications I can and have seen this been done before, may these events be player - or ST made. When it comes to sort of "Group" vs "Group" warfare it just dies in the womb due to griefers and abusers. I think the most important thing to consider first and foremost is how you yourself would abuse something. Though obviously it shouldn't stop us from creating good content, there's some mindfulness that needs to exist. I think unfortunately this idea is one of those that gets filed away in the cabinet under "Good on paper but not in practice". In the real world there's actual consequence if a nomadic group fails in their conquest. While on LoTC there's no real way for us to not make it a broken war / pvp fueled loophole that can easily be abused, bar making nomadic groups no fun. I think the way we meassure investment on LoTC that makes you worthy of participating in war also excludes groups that has nothing to lose. Likewise it makes me ask the question, how would a nation go about going to war with a nomadic group? What benefit would there be?

 

There's been a few nomadic groups on LoTC and while they can't declare warclaims it seemingly fulfilled the enjoyment most of them were looking for.

 

Anyway, always interesting to see these topics and just as interesting to theorize. This is just my two cents and obviously I'm not the fun police by any means. I hope you have a good week @Javert.

I know you to be a good-faith player, so I will not interpret this uncharitably. The real-world consequences you speak of are actually more mitigated for nomadic civilizations versus sedentary civilizations. You also ignore the very obvious benefit of "waging war on a nomadic group" which is the promotion of conflict and to give players the opportunity to break monotony of SoL roleplay.

2 hours ago, TN_TURKEY said:

I come out of my rock to speak on this topic, as it is one I enjoy:

Nomadic/Tribal rp has and is done on the server. We've had groups such as the Cimmerians, the Azukazi/Hongali, the Svarlings, the Cingedoz, so on so forth. There have been plenty of tribes with plenty of aesthetics ranging from germanic to mongolian. The problem honestly comes down to player interest and accessibility. It is not very easy to play a nomadic or tribal people due to the mechanics of the tiles yes, and also just its not the most popular method of play on this server. I've had time in a small number of these groups over the past year and rarely have I ever seen any of them get more than 5 players active at once. Its a very Very niche grouping that only really hits the world stage of popularity when directly involved with other player factions, or with ST events. The only real answer to making it more prominent is to get more players involved with that sort of thing.

((Edit: another obstacle I realize is also just people being able to Find these groups. Often when Nomads do manage to create lairs or settlements they are off the beaten path and secreted away, meaning its very difficult for potentially interested players to even Find these groups. 

This feedback is probably the most valuable regarding the topic broached by the OP. Nomadic roleplay is only as good as the members composing it and since nomadic roleplay tends not to feed into the nation system mechanics - you don't find a lot of players staying consistent unless they are driven by something other than the accrual of land, OOC clout, or min-maxing variables (though I abuse the use of the min-maxing part). TN_Turkey was actually part of the nomadic phase of the Cingedoz in the late Almaris map that, quite frankly, was bust given we were mainly composed of older semi-retired players who didn't give a damn about that land, clout, or min-maxing but had difficulty navigating the different migrations; so he speaks true about the matter.

For the sake of putting my money where my mouth is. If there are enough players interested in a nomadic cultural player-group, let me know. I won't lead it, but I'll certainly write for it and will try to build connections between the smaller existing nomadic groups.