Welcome to The Lord Of The Craft

We're currently the #1 Minecraft Roleplaying Server, fitted with custom plugins, a unique crafting system, custom character cards and an incredibly active and passionate community; We're serious about Roleplay and we're always eager for new faces!


Register now to gain access to all of our features. Once registered and logged in, you will be able to contribute to this site by submitting your own content or replying to existing content. You'll be able to customize your profile, receive reputation points as a reward for submitting content, while also communicating with other members via your own private inbox, plus much more! This message will be removed once you have signed in.


Old Fart
  • Content count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

2,802 Divine

About Esterlen

  • Rank
    works like a demon

Contact Methods

  • Minecraft Username

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
  • Interests
    All sorts of things.

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Tzahan Ipos / Carvalon of Maeyr / Vassar / Fleetwood Goldhand
  • Character Race
    Dark elf / High elf / Heartlander / Mountain dwarf

Recent Profile Visitors

32,885 profile views
  1. it's past your bedtime
  2. *whips out his flintlock and lights it up, shooting you in the head and killing ya!


    1. Esterlen


      *dies "god save you steve"

  3. Everything I did with Yoppl was perfectly consensual, on both sides, out of character. We wanted to have a fun time, a fun pistol duel. And if we hadn't have done it on the server, we'd just have written a story about it and put it on the forums. Either way, everybody present at the duel in Bastion enjoyed themselves, and everybody present volunteered to attend it in the full knowledge of what we were doing. The rolls happened, I lost and got shot dead. That's the way I wanted my character to go. Who are the nay-sayers? Staff bureaucrats and magic clique members who weren't present at the event or affected by the RP even in the slightest. People who only even know about the event happening because we wrote some cool posts to put on the forums about it which they very easily could have ignored - either that, or they just checked logs.
  4. Soul-stealing, my friend.
  5. MC Name: mark_knopfler Character's Name: Carvalon of Maeyr Character's Age: 140 or so Character's Race: High elf What magic(s) will you be learning?: Fi'hiiran'tanya Teacher's MC Name: MagicPastry Teacher's RP Name: Ikur Seregon Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it: No! Do you agree to keep the MT updated on the status of your magic app by using the Magic List Errors topic?: Yes! Have you applied for this magic on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app: N/A
  6. Is there something wrong with you
  7. Okarir'tir: Carvalon Maeyr'onn [XX] Abstain [ ] Okarir'kaliri: Vuln'llyt Fi'talareh [XX] Abstain [ ] Signed, Carvalon Maeyr'onn
  8. Okarir'mali: Cinh'llytn [ ] Tennallar Ilmoriel [XX] Abstain [ ] Okarir'lin: Cinh'llytn [X] Tennallar Ilmoriel [X] Abstain [ ] Okarir'lliran: Varen'thal Ilmoriel [ ] Vuln'llyt Fi'talareh [XX] ((The Nameless One)) [ ] Abstain [ ] Okarir'indor: Cenwall Glaeus [XX] Abstain [ ] Signed, Carvalon Maeyr'onn
  9. Sodom Silverblade and his twin brother, Gomorrah, put aside their man-concubines and take up their swords, moving to seek out and swear their fealty to the ghoulish commander.
  10. 17th of the Sun's Smile, 1622 The citadel of Bastion. There were no last words for Robert of Marna, no will or great prophetic curse as he died. The bullet had torn through his torso, rupturing through his diaphragm, liver, and finally coming to rest in the base of his spinal column, where its force had paralyzed him from the waist down and sent him crumpling into a heap. He knew that he had lost this final contest. He had abandoned his country once before, when his very combatant's grand-sire had murdered his brother and liege in cold blood. The crown was due to him, by law and succession, but instead of taking it and keeping together the realm as was his lawful duty, Robert of Marna fled. He abandoned his studies in the seminary and became a soldier of fortune, travelling extensively around Aeldin in the hopes that he might leave his old life and identity behind. When he heard his other brother laid ruin to the great metropolis of Johannesburg, ending the greatest empire the world had ever known or would know, the guilt broke him. Could Robert of Marna have prevented it had he not been playing the role of a petty commander? He was a second-rate general whose real military interest was nothing more than a 'corporal's mania', a dissonant, boyish passion for uniforms, pipe-clay, buttons, the tricks of parade and the froth of ironclad Imperial discipline. When the same men who had hailed his nephew Lackland as their savior not a few years past began to speak of murdering him, seizing government and destroying the country, Robert of Marna thrust himself into the fray for the hopes of redeeming himself in the eyes of the country he had deserted. He would seize government, yes, but John V would be put under a temporary house arrest, with Robert as a civilian Lord Protector, a regent who would provide the leadership necessary to end the crisis. Murder was never on the agenda! But when Lackland died in the Battle of Trier and Robert of Marna was named Lord Protector, whispers abounded as to who dealt the killing blow nonetheless. The prince had so many plans, plans of centralization, industrialization and colonization in the fashion of the Horosid lands in which he had cut his teeth. They never saw fruition. The meddling northern lords had cut his endeavors prematurely short, Stephen of Haense conspiring with the great vampire-count of Pruvia to force his resignation, and if he refused, his murder. And like he had in the Year of the Four Emperors, Robert of Marna resigned his responsibilities and ran. The old soldier had fought and negotiated with countless foes in his fifty-two years, and their visages flashed through his mind with every passing moment. The madman Andrew of Haense, laughing bitterly at his forthcoming offer of pardon in the castle of Metterden. The Santiegan horse-lords in the juz of Abdes Bey, scimitars brandished as they trampled over their own yurts. Gror Ireheart and his thick fingers adorned with massive, jeweled rings, stroking ponderously upon a beard that fell to his knees... Would that Robert been shot dead by one of them, he'd have seen it as an unbecoming end. But to meet his demise by the personal hand of his nemesis, Stephen of Haense? That, he thought, would be legendary.
  11. Carvalon of Maeyr strides atop the podium, robes speckled with white and silver adorning his person. He extends a stiff hand outwards in the traditional posture of the saneyir, the stance customary to the schools of 'aheral rhetoric in which he had cut his teeth many decades ago. Disposing with the flowery language and detached prose of the erstwhile Sohaerate, he makes his announcement, his intonation carrying all the passionate fire of the trying days to come. "I, Carvalon Maeyr'onn, do hence decree my intent to seek appointment to the office of Okarir'tir."
  12. Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone

    1. Bad Guy Shady

      Bad Guy Shady

      Wanna talk about it abo also can i be a striga?

    2. Ambduscias


      where is the vampire roleplay?

  13. I did indeed turn Mr. Basarab
  14. Fleetwood Goldhand, kept abreast of the latest news and laws from his prison cell in Alban, screeches aggressively. He grabs a hold of the iron bars to his cell, shaking them with the vigor of a merchant who lost every last penny. "Let them go mad chasing spider-man! They won't be the first, or the last!" he roars.