Lykos

Shajiir had found a quiet place under the shade of the tree that had become the temporary shelter of the Kharajyr- A far cry from the pillars of stone, the temples of gold that had raised him. So far away from his family, his friends, his kingdom, his story... And his brother-beyond-blood. Before his time in the Fog, he'd carried Tla'Xerdun's body to the island's temple and saw him off after his passing- But here, now? He was a refugee, much like the rest of his people. But as the strange black-furred Tigrasi sits upon the shore of a stream, the entire top half of his scarred, magically-marred form covered in the blood of a beast sacrificed for a hopeless chance at speaking to a long-dead goddess, one of the papers would find its way to him. Clutching his ever-cold and disquieting stone mask in one hand, the other would hold the missive, staining it in crimson in the process. Shajiir's browline furrows low, and he looks ahead, to the horizon. A new future, perhaps? ... Even for one so heavily weighed upon by the past? He'd need to meet this Xibalamtecatl, instead of straying around the sidelines of the Kharajyr's tree-camp muttering about 'ghosts in the fog', so it would seem.

Been here since 2011, just kinda disappeared for uhhhh almost 10 years What was your first RP memory from lotc? Back in Aegis, where my first foray into LotC was my first-ever roleplaying experience, my first rp is HILARIOUS looking back. 15/16 year old me walked up to the Orc lands, saw an Orc "Hail" "LATZ GON GET FLATZ ORC KILL YOU" And then I soulstoned away. That day was the day you ALMOST caught captain Lykos Daekon.

I appreciate it, thank ya' \o/

Howdy, folks. Hope all of you have been well! I've been away for a very, very, VERY long time- And thought to reintroduce myself during this time of me sticking my head in to peer around and see if I can find a foothold to start exploring LotC again. My name's Lykos, and I first started playing on this server back in 2011, waaaaay back in the beginning on Aegis. For four years I made friends and enemies, wrote characters I still hold dear to my heart a decade later, and experienced the stories of myriad other characters, as well as the world itself. From the Dragonborn of Old Oren's King's Road seeking to become Dragons, to fighting against the inevitable fall of Al'khazar, aaaall the way to jumping across to Asulon then Anthos, I saw a great deal. My first character, a Monster Hunter named Lykos Daekon, walked through plenty of paths- And after spending many real-life days in a self-built monster spawner cave leveling the server's then-current weapon skill mod's Sword Skill to 100, he became an unkillable monster in pvp due to the completely broken Auto-Parry and Auto-Riposte chance that you could get to above 100% with a high enough sword skill. Great, Important rp characters would get into fights with this weird one-eyed hobo, and end up defeating themselves by clicking on me. These were strange, ancient times full of Shenanigans™ I even ended up joining the Event Team after the realm change to Asulon, and had hopes to rp a proper Dragon- One of 16-year-old-me's greatest ambitions, alas. ALAS NEKODANI, I hardly knew ye. (A screenshot I took tonight, after downloading the old Aegis map and exploring Al'khazar, where most of my rp took place before it burned in Iblees' fire. I found Throdo Therving's tavern, where my first-ever RP character in any game or setting, Lykos, basically lived. Tonight, I found a sign I wrote on and posted outside of his tavern 13 years ago.) Following Major Negative Life Stuff™ in 2015, I stepped away from the server, only coming back for a brief delve back in a couple of years later that had me welcomed back by old friends excited to see my return. It was beautiful, for a time. A few friends had left by then, yes, but I still had a community that knew me to pull me back in. I made new characters, laid old ones to rest, and lived through more of LotC's story. Then, I had to leave again. Life had a habit of being unkind, and pulling me away from the things I loved. By the time I could return, I eventually decided against it- Decided that my new main friend group elsewhere that welcomed me so much, that STILL remain my best friends that I've hung out with on Discord for almost every night during the last 7 years, deserved my full attention- Away from LotC, the origin of my history in collaborative writing. And so, I walked on down the road. Starbound, Guild Wars, World of Warcraft, my own settings and those of my friends in various tabletop games online and off- I wrote more things that I adored, more things that I will forever hold close to my heart. And now, thinking back to LotC and realizing that for the first time since I left that I am healthy and available to experience its stories again all these years later, I return now... But now, with those worlds, kingdoms, and characters I knew long-gone in the dust of time's passing. I come to y'all as a refugee of time, lost in my very first step back. This time, I have no old friends with established characters to take me in and steer me right. I began my journey here when I was 16 years old. Yesterday, I celebrated my 30th birthday. It has been a long, long road- But hopefully, now with a new branch to follow to new places, stories, and friends. I can't wait to see what you guys have created. (it has also been an absolute JOY to look back to 2012 me's VERY 2012-internet-typing-style. I once started a serious character thread with '*Character* has an epic facepalm moment'.)

Name: Kavari ((Mc name: LykosEatsDoritos Race: Kha'Leoparda Allegiance: I am with the Tlatlanni, and the rest of the Kharajyr. ((Ri'Shajiir doesn't fill out the form, yada yada))

Name: Kavari / (Ri'Shajiir) ((MC: 'LykosEatsDoritos' ))

It was a long day, as all days were for the road-weary Kha'Leparda. The badlands had sand that would burn even the thickest of paw, but long roads oft teach important lessons. Kneeling, Kavari reties the wraps around her feet, only to look up and rest her arms atop her bent knee, blue eyes blinking as they beheld a sea of orange and yellow. The mountains and crags were sharp and intimidating, and oh so alien to a Kha born with the jungle in her heart- but those ugly cliffs offered shade from a more sadistic sun. Only a few days had passed since she was still on her endless, lonely road. Only a few moonrises before now, she only had herself to worry about. Now here she was braving the heat to find enough herbs and roots to help the wounded in her newfound home. With a growly sigh, hints of pain seeping through her determination, she stands up, taking a look at her surroundings, and for the treasures she sought out. Pulling the ragged red cape tighter around her shoulders, she sallies forth as she recounts her experiences. A mere day before this trek in the sand, she had met an unexpected face. She was wary, cautious. Paranoid. For the past decade, she had been on her own- self reliant, but also solitary on the thorn-covered road. Other Kha were a rare sight, and often played the part as harbingers of trouble. Trouble for her. When she met Mukar, she knew he would bring adversity... Yet for some reason, she found herself following the Sage down the road, all the way to the last Bastion of the Kharajyr in Axios, a town nestled in the mountains under the Rex's shadow. Kavari was yet wary, but as Mukar showed her through the temple, the Leparda felt something that hadn't graced her for years- calm. The unexpected gifts did not stop at a rekindled connection, even. Mukar extended an offering- something that hit Kavari through any sort of psychological armor she had built up over her lifetime. Without so much as a request, he gave her a home. People she could talk to without fear of being killed for her pelt. It put out fires in her mind she didn't even know she had... But of course, another Kha on the road always meant trouble. - Sliding down the dune, Kavari closes in on her prize, one of the few plants that thrived in the deathly environment. Using naught but her claws, she digs the hardy root out of the sand, stowing it in her backpack. One down, fourteen to go. - Early in the morning, as the sun kissed the horizon, an explosion rocked the city of Kha, those that were present grouping up. Kavari immediately sprinted back to her new hut, getting back into her travelling gear- But for the first time, she wasn't running. She wanted to, yet she found herself tying the sheath of her sabre to her hip dutifully, heading out to follow the Sage that had lead her to that moment. Cultists, an enemy fought before, burns that still stung. The raid passed over her like a feverish dream, Kavi fighting with more ferocity than she had in years. With sword n' board, she bashed and slashed, kicked and clawed. Her fury was felt by the hapless ghouls, doubly so by those that sought to finish off those that they had fell. Thrice she dragged the Ascended back to his feet, but the raid was not yet finished. - Even now, it wasn't finished. the wound she had earned across her forehead still bled, slowly as it did, and she needed to find more of the herbs that hid from her under the sand. She didn't know how to treat the wounded beyond anything simple, but years on the road oft teach important lessons. Which plant helps, which plant hinders? Of course, a small volume of a poison can act as a medicine, but too much medicine can act as a poison. Even now she had to be careful. The battle wasn't over just yet. It wouldn't be until the gates of her new home were repaired. It wouldn't be until every damned Kharajyr around her was safe and healthy. The road of adversity never ends... But Kavari was a traveler. So onward she trudges, through the blistering sands. The hot springs called, after all.

Just so happens that my interests don't include group/nation rps, so I've stayed away for a good while. In fact, I tried a pretty similar rp a - Sh*t it's been like 2 years... Archon Survival. Put in a bunch of writing, recorded audio logs and such, then everyone abandoned it ONE STEP before it got interesting :/ Anyways, I'm all for it.

-Emil Brandt- As the group was shepherded down a level, he could not help but not trust the man leading them.. But once they had reached their destination, a cafe in a railstation, one tier below, the man identified himself as a teacher. As much as it was, teachers were trustworthy, and had little political intent. He did not know this man, but the others in the group seemed relieved, so he allowed himself to relax a bit himself. Just as he had gotten settled in, a ghost from the past walked in. After the group from the Under finished speaking, he heard footsteps approaching from the distance, and took cover, as the others did. "Bazarov? I thought you got executed last month for theft.." Emil says, gripping his old knife tightly, whether or not he could do any damage with it.

-Emil Brandt- 'Nasty shot, heh." Emil recoils as the rag is pressed against his wound, still a bit shocked by the last salvo from the zeppelin. He quickly turns, looking Alex over, gripping his knife tightly. After deciding that he was safe, he relaxes a little bit, pointing out the wound on his leg. "My head's fine, see to that instead. Running is going to be very, very important, I think. We need to get to that alley, get deeper into the city. All we n-" His words are torn out of his breath as a Zeppelin above combusts. Emil watches as the flaming skeleton falls out of his view, behind the building he had just escaped. "Now's our chance!" Emil motions for Alex to follow and darts into the street, the path to the alley only being a few good strides. He skids to a stop as the sight of soldiers appears in front of him. Instinctively, he takes cover against one of the buildings that made the mouth of the alleyway. He would turn to Alex. "Soldiers.. We don't know who the Zeppelins belong to at this point, man. Stay down, don't take any chances. We gotta stay outta the streets." He would look back into the alleyway, a wrought iron fence blocking their way. He steps into the alleyway, testing the gate. "Locked. Sh*t." Emil would say, turning back to Alex. "Keep an eye out for me, I'll get this open." Emil takes a set of tools out of his jacket's inner pockets and kneels down in front of the gate, getting to work on the lock. The sound of one of the rifles firing and the pained yell that followed from one of the soldiers only made him work faster, muttering curses as he goes.

-Emil Brandt- "Middle of the city'll have more cover, but once we're there we need to go down a tier or two! Barricade ourselves into a building or something, figure out what's going o-" Emil looks up to the Zeppelins before slamming himself back into cover, just as a salvo of rounds smashes into the side of the building above them, deafening Emil for a moment and forcing him down. He quickly scrambles to his feet, dust and bits of brick raining down on him. A piece of shrapnel had ricocheted around and struck the side of his head, albeit only slightly, forming a cut above his right brow, the wound producing a small stream of blood that would probably close up on its own in time. His sub-par rental tux was now covered in brick dust, and he found himself sprinting across the street. Before he knew what he was doing, he had dived into cover in front of the building opposite the group, towards the inner part of the city's tier. He was out of the Zeppelin's sightline, but that wouldn't help much if they decided to shoot some HE down on the street. Taking a moment to observe his immediate surroundings, he the building he was now next to was a library, and that it had a dark alleyway next to it, but getting to it was in the sightline of the zeppelin's guns.