TEEbrown

That's some good stuff

Good stuff hiebes

The Wronged: The honor of Edel Silvervein and the Silvervein clan The Assailant: Grand King Zahrer Irongrinder The Wrong: An honor-duel was agreed upon by the parties of Grand King Zahrer Irongrinder and High King Verthaik Frostbeard II, at the suggestion of Wulfgar Blackaxe. The motion put forth was that Edel Silvervein would defend his honor against Frerir Irongrinder. If proven victorious, the Grand King would offer three thousand mina and Throri Stonemace would be handed over for trial for his accused crimes. The outcome of this trial would be upheld and recognised by the council of Urguan. After the duel in which Edel was favoured by the gods and defended his honor and the honor of his clan, the Grand King Zahrer Irongrinder did not hold up to his oath. Terms of Settlement: To repay the debt of honor for the horrendous act of oathbreaking the Grand King Zahrer Irongrinder is required to pay five thousand mina, two sets of carabarum armor and hand Throri 'Snake' Stonemace over in chains to be put before the High King of Kaz’Ulrah for trial. Zahrer’s people should not have to suffer for his crimes, and as such, he has three stone days to adhere to these terms. Should he fail to comply, Dungrimm’s wrath shall be unleashed. High King Verthaik Frostbeard II, True Protector of the Dwarves Edel Silvervein, Father of the Silvervein Clan Centurion Tagum Blackaxe, son of Barvek

Yer name: Tagum Grandaxe What are yer professions: Masterful Woodworker Race: Mountain Dwarf In which cohort do you wish to be placed in: My Own. (( OOC Format )) MC Name: TEEBrown Discord: teebrown Skype: teebrown.tyler

Tagum laughs over a brew of strong mountain ale in the new Blackaxe clan hall in Jornhiem revelling in the successful raid against the Grand Kingdom. "We fooked em today, we'll fook em tommara! I'd like to see these gits try to get us Blackaxes, we will nae be so easy to fook with!"

Tagum drops a vote for Verrik Grandaxe.

"Pah! Sad day when th' Gran' King will nae protect 'is kin 'n side wiff th' other side." Tagum Blackaxe remarks as he reads over the poster. He then proceeds to cross out Grandaxe and write Blackaxe underneath. "If ye gonna turn ye back on th' lad, at least git 'is name roight."

Tagum looks at Darain, "Ye can call me woteva ye like."

Honks Darain's nose and says "Wow."

"Truely one of th' greats. Ah've seen many a dwarf king 'nd ah can say dat this one fought 'ard fer th' kingdom that he loved." [Seriously though, this guy's got dedication.]

MC Name: TEEbrown Age: 51 Character Name: Tagum Character Clan: Grandaxe Timezone: est Do you have Teamspeak?: yes Skype Name (PM if you wish to keep it private): teebrown.tyler Who sponsors you?(Must be a Kronok within the Brotherhood): My arse Time on Server: 2011 baby Character bio: (Here you should write on why your character would fit into the Brotherhood, and why you should join): tldw (Do you accept the PK(Permanently killing your Character) clause if you break the Brotherhood’s Blood-Oaths)? Y/N Of course I will

NAME: Tagum RACE: Dwarf SKYPE: teebrown.tyler PREFERED BUSINESS(D/S): Slaving TEAMSPEAK(Y/N): Y

Old Bazian smiles recalling the joint effort of the humans and dwarves of yesteryear.

MCName: TEEBrownPersona Name: BogrinRace: Mountain DwarfAge: 136Place of Residence: WanderingTitle if applicable: n/aHave you read and agreed with all the rules?: Yes

"Good to see other clans popping up. Ah'll 'ave ah drink wiff ye anytime!"

Bazian breathes a sigh of relief. "Now may the grudge against the Rurics be put to rest once all of them have been removed from power. I hope this will last."

This in its entirety. I have been on LotC just as long and I can confirm this here. LotC thrives when it has groups interacting with each other on a daily basis and not just when there is a war going on. Closer and compact. And freebuild, much more freebuild. Oh and the guy above me states my other problem with the server build. Everything is about making everything look nice. I could really care less about all the little details if there is no way I can cut a goddamned tree down. Making trees all pretty makes it so they can't be cut down or looked at. All this beautification is turning the server into a painting rather than a game. Less graphics, more gameplay.

Bazian smiles, "Good to see th' engineers once again! Cannae wait to see w'at ye build Ogdan."

In rememberance we keep honor alive, lest in our darkness, our ancestors die The snow fell lightly to an unbroken ground, not yet tainted with the blood of the children of Aegis. The town of Snowy Fields, once a place of peace and stillness in the frozen north, has now become entrenched against the hostilities of the undead lords reigning from the obsidian fortress across the frozen lake. "They have become bolder, walking into Al'khazar with their hoods drawn so that we would not see there bloody faces." A fellow Oren guard told the young dwarf Bazian as they passed the time at the guard house in Al'Khazar. "Lets get moving up there, we do no good asking for Name and Business all damn day." The young fire-headed mountain dwarf was Bazian Blackaxe, an exiled dwarf from an exiled clan trying to make some mina to support the clan. He was a niieve beardling that only had experience fighting some undead minions at Kal'Domhain, but never dreamed that he would see an undead lord. Quickly the young dwarf bought a house in the northern town and began patrolling with his fellow guards and citizens defending their homes. The cold stillness of the north is cut only by the shadow of the undead fortress where the lords call down lighting and shoot balls of fire to smite the people of the north. "They act like angry gods with a lust for violence." A war-torn veteran of the guard once lamented. "They are the curse that effects all beings, sadly it is the only thing that keeps the races united." We raided up and down the frozen shore of that bloody lake, killing off any undead minions we might come by. No matter how may we slew, the lords would summon more from the dark pits of the Nether. There were many times when we attempted to face off with the undead lords at their fortress but this proved all for naught. Their obsidian walls infused with the dark powers of Iblees proved no match for our picks. We quickly became their play things as they brought down the wrath of dark magics. Truly they were wrathful gods. When the day came for Snowy Fields to fall, the lords of the undead did not attack us in our beds. Rather, they rode their lightning like demons laughing at tortured souls. Even at our most defensible, the considered us little more than ants underfoot. They came first for the gate, shooting fireball after fireball , slowly weakening the reinforced gate. Arrow fire was exchanged by the guards but to no avail. The undead responded by summoning hordes of beasts within our walls and on top of the walls. The garrison quickly became overrun. They rallied quickly to clear the town of the cursed undead minions. Being a hot-headed beardling, Bazian quickly became infuriated. The mountain dwarf vaulted over the edge of the walls to a frozen part of the moat below. One thing burned in his mind, that of slashing through the robes to the rotting flesh of an undead lord. He cut his way through the few minions that littered the battlefield until he reached a lord at the gates of Snowy Fields. Instantly, the dwarf frozen. For when he peered behind the darkness of his hood, he saw the rotting face of the undead, the rotting of the soul that he once was. The lord looked as ancient as he was cruel. It was like the feeling that you would have it you lost someone close to you, it happened many years ago but you have forgotten and only just remembered. It was a sickeningly churning cruel feeling, like all the light has left the world and the only thing that remained was cold and grey. In that moment, Bazian changed forever. Perhaps more importantly, Bazian could not move. The smile the lord gave was quick but the slash from the golden staff was quicker. Before the dwarf knew it, he was falling backwards into the frozen moat, blood flying from his left eye. That is the last the dwarf remembers of the fight. Bazian awakes in Al'Khazar surrounded by other bloodied people from the battle being treated for injuries. His injuries were left untouched as there were more pressing injuries for the healers to tend to mostly for burns and missing limbs. Looking to the north, smoke bellows to the sky as the undead create the effect of a false storm with their many lightning strikes, putting the fear of these undead gods in the heart of all the races. "Damn the bloody Ascended, th' supposed deliverers ov th' undead." Bazian says in disgust. The Ascended were too busy working on their fortress in the south called "Haven." In the end, this would lead to the coruption of the north and the downfall of the three strongholds that held it together; Snowy Fields, Alstion, and Winterfell. After these key points fell, there was nothing left stopping the undead from setting its sights on Al'Khazar, capital of the Oren kingdom and perhaps the most racially diverse city of all time. Never again did that dwarf trust the Ascended. The old dwarf puts down his quill and goes to huddle by the fire to keep the chill off from the long dwarven halls. He traces the scar that scored across his eye in deep rememberance. A bolt of lightning from the storm above jumps him to his feet with his blackened axe drawn to his hand. Remembering where he is, the dwarf slumps back to his seat and put his face in his hands. The Ascended finally showed up after the town has fallen. OOC: Yea guys, back then there was drama too.

Bazian waddles around Kal'Omith leaning on his cane in one hand and an ale in the other. "Lo ye lazy Grandasses. Its toime to get off yer arses 'nd 'elp rebuildin' th' clan! Get ah movin' dere is much to do! Dear is ah clan'all to be built!" The old dwarf continues his waddle as he yells at various Grandaxes and thwomps a few dwarves with his cane.

Like stone old and forgotten, a dwarf sits in solitude. Quietly sipping ale, the old dwarf shakes off the dust that has gathered around him. It has been many long years since the failed expedition into the ruins of a old dwarven city. Many cave goblins fell by the hands of the dwarven explorers, but in the end it was the crippling infrastructure of the city that betrayed the group. A massive cave in buried the dwarves cutting them off from any chance of escape. During this time, Bazian Grandaxe was apart from the group drinking ale from centuries old casks of beautiful dwarven ale stored in casks that preserve it perfectly. It was this type of technology that Bazian was studying when he felt the rumbling of the hall. Dust flew from the opening of the hall. Once it had cleared, a massive pile of stone blocked the exit. Instantly Bazian realized that there would be no chance of escape for him. So this is where he sat, drinking ale and collecting dust. It was not until the new city being formed that Bazian began to hear the noise of excavation. The sound of picks on stone was so faint, but Bazian knew the sound of digging well. At first it began faintly, but it steadily became louder. With new found vigor at freedom, Bazian picked up his pickaxe and began working his way through the endless pile of rubble at the entrance to the hall hollering for the excavating dwarves to hear him. "'ere! I be down 'ere! Lo' lads, ah be trapped!" Rethinking his tactic, he began shouting different words. "Ale! Free ale! Soo much ale ye cannae drink it in your lifetime! For ah know, ah've tried!" This went on for several more stone days. Each day Bazian regained most of what he lost. The old dwarf retied his beard, gave thanks to his ancestors, prayed again to Dungrimm for strength, he even gave his axe a nice sharpening. Eventually, Bazian popped his bald head out into a dwarven mine shaft that ran right through the rubble of the caved in city. Giving a wide smile, Bazian felt years younger, he even attempted a jump! Running down the mine shaft the old dwarf yells with joy. "Lo lads! Ahm comin' 'ome!"

"Aye Dwain, well met. I look forward to fightin' beside ye 'nd yer kinsdwarves 'n th' next battle!"