Cloakedsphere

"Wub da zkah?" says willy

“FUR TOO LONG WI HAZ ZAT IDLE N’ WATCH OUR FRIENDZHIPZ ZUFFER AT DUH HANDZ UF AZH. FUR TOO LONG WI HAZ PEEPED OUR LIVEZ TURNED INZIDE OUT, FUR WHEN WI HAZ ZOUGHT TU REGAIN OUR HONOR, WI WERE MET WITH DEZTRUCTION N’ TERMZ UF WAAGH WHEN ALL UF DIZ COULD’VE BEEN AVOIDED. FUR TOO LONG WI HAZ BEEN ZLAUGHTERED, PUZHED BACK, BY DUH FAILUREZ UF AZH.” Willy would roar from a roof top within the city of San’Velku. His voice pained and strained with anger. Even if no one would listen, he would still shout at the top of his lungs down into the square of the city for all of them to hear his call. “LET DIZ BI AH CHALLENGE. TU DUH AZH DAT HAZ BROUGHT UZ MANY ENEMIEZ WITHIN DIZ REALM. FUR LATZ BLAH HAZ TURNED FRIENDZ INTO ENEMIEZ N’ LATZ HAZ DONE NOTHING TU ZOLVE DIZ.” “I CHALLENGE DUH DOMINUZ TU UH KLOMP FUR LATZ ZPOT. NAYM LATZ TIME N’ PLACE. FUR IT WILL BI UP TU DUH ZPIRITZ TU DECIDE. LATZ HAZ NUB BEEN PEEPED IN AGEZ WHILE WI HAVE BEEN ZTUCK TU BEAT BACK DUH ZKAHERZ DAT ATTACK DUH GOI DIRECTLY N’ LATZ JUZT ZIT N’ NUB ZEEK ACTION. MI CALLZ FUR ACTION NOW. LATZ BRUDDAHZ N' ZIZTAHZ LAY DEAD AT DUH HANDZ UF DUH DOMINUZ DUE TU LATZ FAILUREZ. ZHOW LATZ FAYCE N’ KLOMP FUR DUH POZITION UF DOMINUZ.” Willy the blind orc would roar once again loudly over the city. He’d raise a fist high into the air, pounding it against his chest. The Ilzhonal would then creep down from the rooftops and return to his home. He'd be preparing for the battle which would be soon to come.

The Ilzpaak (Orcizh Zodiac) When the sun rests beneath the sands of the Uzg, a blanket of darkness, bejeweled with innumerable stars envelops the land. To the untrained eye it would appear as a series of scattered lights, but to the Ilzhonal, those that study the Ilzpaak (Constellations), there is much to be said about the formations found within the celestial sky. It is often said by students of this Zodiac that the constellations were created by the Immortal Spirits, and those born under specific Ilzpaak are attuned with the energy of the spirit that created it. Ilzhonal: Ilzhonal, the great Star Watchers, those that dedicate a vast majority of their time to studying the grand constellations that adorn the night sky are tasked with the duty of imparting the wisdom of the stars onto the Orcish people. They chart the stars, believed to hold the energy of spirits. Their rituals and practices allow for a deep understanding of navigation, astronomy, horology, and the esoteric. The Ilzhonal, and those that follow them recognize the power within the stars and phases of the moon and sun. Tasked with charting the stars, they add to the list of spirits with constellations. They generally dwell wherever the stars are most visible, and often are drawn into council by visitors. Empowered by starlight, an Ilzhonal’s mind is bright and all-encompassing. They have broad knowledge, and broader goals. The Ilzhonal help orcs honor and worship the Stargush Stroh, and chart out interpretations from Ancestral, Elemental, and Immortal spirits by scrawling out their forms in constellations and celestial events. Their work helps to reign in the often obtuse nature of the spirits to less pious orcs, as well as healing and informing those who seek their intercession. It is also seen as a blessing, given to orcs at birth (or at the time of being reborn) to help mold and guide their future. To become great, one must have and serve a purpose within orcish culture and seeking out the Ilzhonal before birth or seeking to be reborn will help guide those in search of their purpose in the mortal realm. Many might think the purpose of the Ilzhonal is a moot one. But where shamans counsel the dead and the planes beyond the mortal realm and a haruspex the spirituality of physical self, an Ilzhonal delves into the stars and the mind. Like medicine-men and pilgrims, an Ilzhonal is constantly moving, seeking some answer to cure their people. They are more familiar with mind-altering substances, alchemy, and mental health. Their work involves expanding upon the current constellations, cartography, and performing rituals to appease the spirits and orcish people. Utilizing the seasonal calendar (Orcish Zodiac), they help perform rituals alongside haruspex, shamans, or individuals seeking their intercession. To accurately survey the stars, an Ilzhonal requires large amounts of yellow and red sand. Often fetched by Ologs or newer members of orcish society, the powders are used in ritual markings and symbology. When an orc is born out of Krugmar, and brought into society, a sand festival is held in their name (Work in progress). Ilzhonal also serves to counsel and inform, spending time to chart the stars, astrological bodies, and interpreting their meaning. They often travel between cities or significant astrological sites, spreading word of the spirits. Studying medicines, alchemy, and the mind, they often are employed to cure diseases not seen, or aid in producing substances for shamanic and personal use. Birth/Rebirth: When a Fe-Uruk is nearing the time to give birth (or just as she has given birth) she will venture to the Ilzhonal to receive a blessing and details of what her offspring will be like. The Ilzhonal live in dainty, cramped tents scattered within a far region of the Uzg. Their homes are typically rife with smells of incense and herbs, and are adorned in all directions by fetishes and paintings. Their shelves are often chock to the brim with old, dusty tomes and great vials of red and yellow sands. Parents will take a great note on the teachings of the Ilzhonal, for they will use his warnings to prevent their offspring from becoming victim to the unhealthy aspects of their alignments. When an orc (or sub-race of orc) wishes to be rebirthed, they are to seek out the Ilzhonal. Once found, the Ilzhonal will ask basic life questions. Seeking to understand the orc’s life before rebirth and see which constellation that individual would be best suited in. They Ilzhonal may also consult the spirits themselves with the help of shamans, allowing them to question the spirits on how they see their fellow peer and what destiny would have in store for them. Once the necessary information is gathered and a determination is made on what time within the Ilzpaak one should be rebirthed, a date and time is set. Notices of rebirth would be sent to all other orcs to bear witness to a very monumental and great tradition within orcish society. It is said that to be born or reborn by an Ilzhonal is a great honor and is seen as a blessing to the spirits. The Importance of Sand: When a kub is born, the time of their birth is just as important as the constellations above them. There are two periods in which an Uruk can be born, and each period will have a varying effect upon the spiritual energy they receive from the Ilzpaak they are born beneath; they are categorized by the presence of the larger bodies in the sky. When the Sun is up, Uruk are born of the yellow sand. When they are born of the Moon, they are of the red sand. When the Ilzhonal determines this, they cover the kub or orc wishing for rebirth in the sand specific to them, partaking in a great ritual of blessing. Yellow Sand: Those born during the Yellow sand are alert individuals, those with a keen awareness for their environment and the factors within it. However, they focus so intensely on the outside world that they often forget to take note of themselves and how they are feeling. For this reason, they are more prone to emotional stimuli, and can be easily influenced into anger, or happiness in many situations. Uruk of the yellow sand are more inclined to action, and have a greater energy toward all things physical, such as fighting, building and dancing. Those assigned to the path of the Yellow sand are often destined for greatness in factors of war and building. They make up among the greatest fighters and builders the Uzg has seen, and are also more noted for their dynamic personalities. Red Sand: The Uruk born of the Red sand are more relaxed in their approach to life, having a more reticent view of the world. They only speak on matters of importance when they have a great passion for it. They are more inward focusing than outward, and can often fall into lapses of self-pity or greed. However, their perspective of introversion allows them to be less precarious than their counterparts, and they can become keen learners and intellectuals with the right guidance. Some would say those born of the red sand are the wisest of all the orc’s and tend to have the most control over their bloodlust. Also those assigned to the path of the Red sand are typically more inclined to become great teachers and sources of Wisdom for those of the Uzg. They are especially good at inventing new technologies and ways of living. Ilzpaak and their assigned Spirits: As every month comes around, so too does a constellation assigned to that period. Those born within these times will be greatly influenced by the Spirits that created the Ilzpaak, and combined with their Sand Path, will follow the destiny written for them amidst the stars. Snow's Maiden - Daumanlob Spirit: Urin - The Immortal Spirit of Weather, Seasons and Climate. This constellation appears as the claw of a Raven. An Uruk born beneath Urin is subject to great inner turmoil. At any moment, they can change from great happiness to destructive rage. As those born within Daumanlob age, they will learn to hone their inner energy to draw on their heightened emotional states when they are needed the most. For this reason, they can go on to become great performers, warriors and inventors. Yellow: Those of Urin, with the path of the Yellow sand will become extremely precarious individuals. Their lives will consist of great struggle as they attempt to balance themselves in all things. They are also prone to extremes in all things, whether it be gambling or competition. Those of Yellow are more inclined to become great warriors and storytellers, relying on their ability to over-exaggerate everything. Red: Those of Urin, with the path of the Red sand will have less of a struggle with their inner machinations, but will still be liable to an inner conflict. They will have a great many idea for projects, but will struggle to settle upon a final design. They are essentially perfectionists, who will very rarely find satisfaction in their endeavors. Krug's Welcome - Krugbroshan Spirit: Akezo - The Immortal Spirit of Health, Vitality and Healing. This constellation appears as a wing. Uruk born beneath Akezo are very energetic individuals, with a great ability to heal internally from great emotional trauma. They are not easily angered by outside influence, and they are quite capable of flowing through life without much inner-turmoil, but can also lose sight of what is important. Uruk born within Krugbroshan are well known for their resilience, and can become wise and great teachers of life. They also make exceptional healers and potion brewers. Yellow: Those of Akezo, with the path of the Yellow sand will have a profound influence on the future of the Uzg, for it is within them to provide kubs of great strength. It is highly recommended for those of Yellow to pursue lives of hunting and War, for they have a great capability to withstand the harshness and solitude that comes with it. However, they can also become too familiar with being alone, and can segregate themselves from the rest of the Uzg as they recline into a life of self-sufficiency. Red: Those of Akezo, with the path of the Red sand will also provide healthy kubs. Additionally, those of this path are more prone to extending their healing capabilities into others. It is for this reason that they pursue professions of healing. This desire to help others extends into all aspects of life, and they can be rather naive in assisting people. Those of the Red sand assume an inner-good in all creatures, and put themselves at great risk. First Seed - Ashblûg Spirit: Ublulhar - The Immortal Spirit of Hope and New Beginnings. This constellation appears in the shape of a seed. When you are born in alignment with Ublulhar, you will have an unquenchable desire to accumulate new skills. Many of the Uruk born within Ashblûg are destined to become a Jacks of all trades, but master of none. They will spend some time involved within a certain pursuit, and will then drop it for something else. For this reason, they are bad leaders and parents. However, they will continue to have a great birth of knowledge, which will at many points in their lives become useful to them. Yellow: Those of Ublulhar, with the path of the Yellow sand are less dedicated to the many interests in their lives. They will go on to have a great number of mates and hobbies, and this can lead to them being viewed rather negatively by other Uruk. Despite this, they are quick to take on news tasks and with their heightened energy, can finish them before they run the risk of losing interest. They can become very influential in the Uzg, typically among the more productive members of society. Red: Those of Ublulhar, with the path of the Red sand are inclined to hold onto their interests for greater lengths of time. They have a propensity, given the right environment, to become masters of the fields they are interested in. However, they can become so obsessed with their interests that they can often grow without families or friends, and if they are not careful, may live in relative solitude. Grand Harvest - Durnorksru Spirit: Arwa - The Immortal Spirit of Fertility, Harvesting and Farming. This constellation appears as a scythe, a common piece of farming equipment. Interestingly, Uruk born within Durnorksru are more often born twins than the other Uruk of the War Uzg, and at the very least will have extremely large families. They place a great importance on child development and working as a team, and can find their place within many crowds and professions. However, Uruk of Arwa can lose sight of their own inner power as they rely too heavily on group efforts. These Uruk are also inclined to over-eating, and can become particularly gluttonous. Yellow: Those of Arwa, with the path of the Yellow sand are keen farmers, working the fields with little to no complaint as they provide for their family, the Uzg. They are happy to work in any way that can better the society in which they live, and they can also become great teachers, teaching the basics of orcish culture to orcish kubs. Due to their reliance on a team effort, they can struggle in their personal lives to follow pursuits that require their own abilities. As great as parents or leaders for kubs as many can become, they can also fall into the trap of not having the self-confidence to pursue new students. Red: Those of Arwa, with the path of the Red sand are in great risk of becoming obese. Due to their relative introversion, they tend to become gluttonous as they focus intently on food. Many of those born under Durnorksru pursue careers of food preparation, whether to provide for others or to sate their own hunger is a factor of much debate. Sun's smile - Aanzrii Spirit: Paxahru - The Immortal Spirit of Arrogance and Stupidity. This constellation appears as a grin. It is often said that arrogance and stupidity are usually twinned together, and the Uruk born under Paxahru are perfect examples of this. They typically overestimate their abilities, and this blind confidence can often lead to many tribulations within their life. However, this arrogance allows them to bully other Uruk into helping them achieve their goals. Do not underestimate those born under Paxahru as they tend to be some of the most influential people within the uzg, bringing much joy and happiness with their light-hearted nature. These orcs can also be some of the strongest morale boosters during tough times for the uzg. Yellow: Those of Paxahru, with the path of the Yellow sand are very outwardly confident, waltzing across the Uzg with a keen awareness of how great they are. They expect others to perceive this as well, and will often spark fights when they are met with resistance. Those of the Yellow path often succumb to irreparable damage as they strive to single-handedly slay beasts or jump great distances. Red: Those of Paxahru, with the path of the Red sand are far more cranial than their counterparts, often sparking discussions among other Uruk to mock them. They believe that their views are unequivocally true and this almost invariably leads to them being beaten into submission. Nevertheless, the debates that they spark can have an ability to provoke life-changing thought as the Uruk of the War Uzg discuss their lives. Yellow/Red mix: Those born under the spirit of Paxahru during times there are no distinction of red or yellow are said to be some of the most influential and morale boosting orcs in the uzg. Their light-hearted nature and quick wit to produce jokes, rhymes, and poems makes them an integral part in keeping the spirits up within the uzg when things are supposedly turning for the worst. They use their mix of confidence and the quick wit to become ones of stardom through festivals, plays, writings, and the like within the uzg themselves. It is said that sometimes when orcs are born under Paxahru and are a mix of red and yellow, the constellation changes momentarily from a grin to becoming animated, mimicking the mouth of a laughing individual. Amber cold - Agongraz Spirit: Ghorza - The Immortal Spirit of Spirit, Travel, Movement and Fortune both Bad and Good. This constellation appears as a walking cane. When you are born in alignment with the Spirit of Travel, you are helpless to resist the wanderlust that guides your life. The Uruk born in Agongraz are no happier than when they are exploring the world. Whether it be with peaceful or villainous means, those of Ghorza are rarely seen within the sands of the Uzg. They are so encapsulated with movement that they are rarely comfortable in themselves. They are constantly faced with tribulation, and their levels of luck seem to vary in great extremes. Yellow: Those of Ghorza, with the path of the Yellow sand take a great interest in exploring the world, and will often do this through the opportunities that raiding and War provide. For this reason, when they are of age, they are usually the first to sign up for the Krug-hai and raiding parties. Due to this, they do not often live to an old age, and will often be slain in their travels as in their keenness, they under prepare for the world outside of the Uzg. Red: Those of Ghorza, with the path of the Red sand are interested in map charting and sea faring, and will often take to great vessels in search of new land. It is usually the dream of those of the Red path to be famed for their great adventures and charms that they can return to the Uzg. They are usually more cautious than their counterparts, and will take the time to prepare. Some can take longer than others, and this can come at a great cost as they feel as though they have not explored as much as they would have wished. Deep cold - Bûrzgraz Spirit: Ixli - The Immortal Spirit of Truth and Judgement and Forbidden Knowledge. This constellation appears as an eye. Perhaps the most controversial of all Ilzpaak, those born in alignment with Ixli are viewed with great suspicion. They are generally good hearted individuals, but can be misguided by their own thirst for knowledge. It is said that an Uruk born under Ixli will sacrifice his own mental well-being in the pursuit of understanding. These Uruk are typically judgemental of others, and this can be their greatest downfall. Yellow: Those of Ixli, with the path of the Yellow sand seek to understand their environment in more physical ways. They will often take on apprenticeships in building and exploration in order to gain the vast knowledge they strive to gather. Those of the Yellow path are said to be less sane than their counterparts, often appearing out of place among their brothers. Red: Those of Ixli, with the path of the Red sand are great conjurers of conspiracy, and search far and wide for the hidden knowledge they believe is lost to them for a sinister purpose. They will often sacrifice their inner-peace to discover what they can about their suspicions, and are very distrusting of those they come into contact with. They are known to sacrifice their honor in some instances, as they become so wracked in exposing the "truth", whatever that may be for them.

To prove the orc was greater than the average, he was to find his calling card. To prove he should be worthy of the stargush'stroh, he must walk the path that no other had walked before him. To be loved and accepted by his people, he must give all when there is no more to give. To show the world of how great and powerful his brothers and sisters of the iron'uzg are, he must help lay the path to a new future and create history beside them. The path was now clear for the orc. After meeting with the haruspex, he was given an ultimatum. To join the haruspex on a campaign to destroy all evil in the same way they had destroyed, imprisoned, and enslaved the spirits before his time. This was to be no easy task and would not be for the faint of heart. As the journey would be long and the path to righteousness would be weary. The orc's blood would boil in his veins. His heart seemingly pounding out of his chest as he could no longer hear anything else other than the beat. He'd walk up to a tree that was to be cursed as a beacon for communion with the immortal spirit realm and run his palms along the carvings that had been put into the tree by the haruspex and shaman. As the ritual progressed, an offering would to be given by the orc like the two next to him had. He was passed a ritual knife by the haruspex and quickly sliced his hand. He had smeared the bloody hand across the bark of the tree and over the symbols. Yet, that was not enough. "They want more." the haruspex said. The orc would be handed the dagger again. But this time, the orc would raise the dagger high above his waist, holding a splayed out hand infront of him before bringing the dagger down swiftly, chopping his pinkie and ring finger clean off. The two severed limbs fell to the floor and in the moment, all that could be heard was those limbs hitting each blade of grass with audible thuds as they came to a stop. As the orc bled onto the ground next to the tree, he'd lose consciousness. He had fallen deep into a dream but not like before. This dream showed him floating through an abyss for what seemed like an eternity. Three figures could be heard as he floated through the seemingly empty space. Whispers in his ear would grow louder and louder yet, no one could be seen and the words unable to be made out into any coherent speech. As quickly as he was brought to this abyss, he would be pulled back out of it by the haruspex. As the orc laid on the floor, the haruspex had sealed his wounds. The orc then lifted his figure from the floor slowly before turning his head up towards the sky. He'd appear to stare at nothing and as he'd raise his hand that'd be missing the two digits, he'd then roar in pain and agony. He'd reel his arm back to his chest in pain. All of a sudden, it had become clear to the orc. His path was not just one of pain and suffering. He is to show others the pain and suffering that he has been a victim to. The same pain and suffering that those evil-doers before him had enacted onto the spirits in the spirit realm. A new era would be birthed that night. The righteous crusade against all dark evil would be theirs to lead. The shaman, haruspex, and orc would all soon go their separate ways as time had passed. But the orc felt that he knew why he was put on this mortal realm at last. He had much to think about and much to prepare for. He must make contact with the spirit realm to see who speaks to him in his dreams. For they will tell One-eyed willy what he must do to become worthy and eventually ascend to the stargush'stroh when his soul leaves the mortal realm.

Certified mug moment

Do not forget the settlements that started in free build and paid their way to being a region'd nation/settlement with mina and activity.

After a long travel to and from the dwarves with Malgunuz, the Raguk was to find the rex. After getting lost multiple times on the way back to the Uzg, he had found himself at the center of the city where the rex stood. He had called out for the rex as he overheard some talking not far from where he had currently stood. Malgunuz had made it back to the Uzg long before the blind Raguk yet he had instructed the blind and lost creature to relay a message to the rex. As they spoke to the rex, the blind Raguk was only able to get off a few words before being interrupted about being unable to see what was clearly right infront of him. Another orc, unknown to the Raguk, had questioned why the Raguk had given up his only eye and what shaman would make him do such a thing. The shaman exclaimed that the Raguk would be useless in the nature of war and fighting as he had now been "reduced" by giving up his only eye. The Raguk was insulted and angered quickly. He would speak back to the shaman, exclaiming that he was not weak like he had said and that he should bite his own tongue unless he had wished to fight right then and there. The shaman grew angered and threatened the Raguk, yet in the face of adversity, the Raguk would not back down. It would be evident that the Raguk, newly returned to the Uzg would still be fearful if his peers are accepting of him and his flaws as a spawn of Krug. The two would clash in a game of words and insults, threats and promises. Yet no one would be declared a winner in the battle of words and pride. The Raguk stormed off, leaving the group behind. Wondering if this was his home? His new friend, Malgunuz, had just given him a house inside the Uzg the very same cactus day. Yet he wondered if he was welcome to stay. The Raguk made his way back to his home, still empty and unfurnished. He'd curl up into a corner, clearly saddened by the encounter. He would soon fall asleep. As the Raguk would dream, he would dream about what is to happen to him next. In fear of insulting the shaman, he had been threatened to be cursed. Perhaps the journey for him was short and not long traveled? He would find himself in a completely black room within his own mind. Standing, hands over his non-existent eyes. He calls out to those whom he had sacrificed his last eye to. "Why muzt latz tezt mi?!" he roars. "Mi juzt wunt tu pleaze duh zpiritz n' zhow mi pride!" he would cry but no tears would flow down his face. "Gib mi a chance tu zee again n' mi zhow duh realm how ztrong n' uzeful mi iz!" With those last words uttered, the darkness in the room would quickly disappear and the room would become blindingly bright. A large hand within his own mind would reach down and grab hold of the Raguk, raising him out of the dark pit within. As he would move faster and faster out of the dark pit, he would glance to his left and right sides respectfully, seeing multiple spirits communing and speaking. He did not know whom they were, as he had never seen them before. Their faces blurred and voices muffled. The large hand he had been riding on would then quickly close on himself, crushing himself and awakening him from his slumber. Yet something was different.

"Your time has come." A faint voice, echoing through the mind of the blind Raguk would continue to repeat itself as he lied next to the pool of blood. His very own leaking into the dirt beneath his face as the chants of the haruspice would continue. Visions of the great battles of Krug vs. Iblees would flash through his mind. The Stargush'stroh would blaze through as he laid lifeless on the floor, the dream causing him to spin as it moved at break-neck speeds. Each image, burning a memory into his mind as it'd fly past. But just as soon as he had fallen into this dream, so quickly was he awaken. The ground was cold as the blind Raguk awoke. Unable to see anything at all and in much pain as the wound over his (now) removed eye would still be fresh. The haruspice chants, fiery pits of blood, and sounds of people walking by are long gone. His mind still spinning from the vision he had saw in his dream. The Raguk pushed himself up off the floor, every movement being clearly audible as his hand pressed into the dirt, crushing each and every small rock together and sending echoes into the orcish ears. The wind blowing through the air, causing the flags of the Iron'uzg to flap in the breeze, sending loud snaps. One-eyed willie begins to wonder if he is dead? Perhaps the offering he had given the haruspice was insufficient and seen as an insult? Suddenly, he hears calls from his orcish brothers and sisters to gather in the throne room. Somehow he had ended up outside, laying on the steps next to the entrance of the throne room. The rumbling of the horde sending waves through the Raguk's body, shaking him to his core as he attempts to follow the direction in which the sound is headed; He now knew that he had not died. He makes his way into the throne room and falls down the steps before crawling over to the table in which he was familiar with. As he sat at the table, the air would smell of death and many different languages would be spoke. He would overhear the Rex speak to a being. As the rest would look on to the event, all the Raguk could do was listen. "Wub iz happening?" The Raguk would ask. "Diz man bringz bub'hozh hammah" someone replies to him. The event would conclude with the Raguk still wondering. The Raguk questions himself and ponders his life as he now finds himself outside the throne room. He thinks about his past and how he was left to die in the deserts as he lost one eye at a very young age. Even returning to the Iron'uzg, he had not found a purpose. The few friends he had made in his own mind seemingly come and go. The Raguk had felt lonely, lost, and afraid. As another face approached him, he would speak. A familiar voice to the Raguk; The shaman that he had given his only eye to. The two would speak for a short time before the shaman quickly realized that the Raguk did not know much of his own history. For he had been left for dead, he was never taught the histories of his people. Yet the images from his dream were still burned in his mind. Every time the shaman spoke, a new image would flash in his mind from beyond the mortal realm. An image depicting the spirits within the Stargush'stroh. The Raguk was brought to a goblin by the Shaman to learn more about the histories of their people. They spent many hours together, learning about the creation of the Orcish people and why they were cursed. But the blind Raguk would still question why he would be chosen to carry on the blood of a great warrior like Krug if he were left for dead and now blind. He was in fear of once again being left for death by his peers. For the tales of all the great orcish leaders and battles that have been won were all done by those who could see. He knew that there would be no place for him in the Iron'uzg as a blind uruk. Saddened by the thoughts, the lessons would conclude and the goblin and shaman would all part ways. The Raguk would find himself huddled up near a bookshelf to sleep. He had not been granted a home and wonders if his people will accept him into their lives like the shaman and the goblin had done or will he be put to death for his inability to see? The future of the Raguk was unclear. Yet one thing was certain... His journey has only just begun.

One-eyed willie would look onto the red pit beneath the ugz with his only eye. His body would feel drawn to the pit and his only eye would be locked into place as would be unable to break eye contact. Willie would catch out the corner of his only eye some individuals offering items yet his eye would continue to be locked in. The Raguk would remove a small paring knife from his waist. The sudden rage and brutality of his nature would flow through his body. His heart beat would hasten and his blood begin to feel red hot in his veins as the pressure would rise within his body. Before giving it any second though, One-eyed willie would be no longer "One-eyed." He'd thrust the knife to one side of his eye socket, driving the blade just deep enough to get behind his only eye as it quickly blinded himself. He would pop the knife would, essentially removing the eye from its socket and with his free hand would hold it still. Willie would roar loudly. The raguk in immense pain and on full display for the rest of his peers to look on would then slice the retina and optic nerve connecting his eye before throwing it into the pit. As blood would pour down the orc's face, he would say with a strained and pained voice "I offer di best geeft anyone can have. De power t'see. N' mi onleh peepur." he'd say before fainting from the pain at the pit.

"Wub dah zkah?" One-eyed willie would ask. "Mi nub like twiggiez." he'd mumble to himself in the corner of the throne room as he witnessed the event in person.

There were many people in many Oren affiliated wars that were the targets of DDoS and doxxing. I agree that what ever is happening will never be anywhere near as bad as it was years ago.

This is honestly the single best thing the admin team has announced or done in a solid couple years. There is no need for redundancy. The server was just fine when moderation would handle land scars and building copies before. Event team generally handled a majority of map building. As map transitions and story building was generally considered an "event".

I dont know why you quoted me, but, ok. You can do cool, fantasy RP shit at any point and are free to RP the old (or new) ways of Haelun'or without anyone really batting an eye. This is a public minecraft server, a public forum, and its players use public discords. This mentality that there is stuff "leaking" from a public discord is schizophrenic. Not to mention the clear promoting of gender roles/people pushing the split of "male vs. female" in the discord. Haelun'or as a whole, not just one side, needs to realize they're all in the wrong. All of them were talking shit. Period. I wasnt saying haelun'or needs to die. I said old players, who clearly do not put any time or effort into this server aside from the maybe 1 hour's worth a week, should have ZERO sway on who should lead what and the direction the nation should head. Yet it is clear that, that is exactly what has happened. They deliberately stunted a player base (which was equal in size to your groups) from seizing power and trying something different. Mainly I would assume because it looked as if they had a majority of the players when in reality, 75% of the people that've signed those documents on the forum posts and posted in the recent week or two havent played LotC in well over 6 months. Some not even logged on to this map and they're only here to speak up on one sides behalf. No one is attacking you, Sheylo. You are not what is wrong here. If you want to do cool RP shit, then I suggest you leave all the discords and just focus on roleplay. Stop allowing these players who all clearly have OOC motives and grudges taint your mind and paint one side in a bad light. It prevents players like you from forming honest and healthy relationships on LotC. Old players continue to ruin LotC for the new players. As clearly evident in your own post, Sheylo.

Honestly this is the case with a majority of their activity. I hung around for a couple weeks and didnt see even half the players who came to Gavin's side even present in the city, at pretty much every time zone. Haelun'or will be dead again within 1 month. All these old players that have rallied to an old players defense has once again, ruined roleplay and progression of LotC. Old players continue to ruin the server for the newer players and prevent newer players from trying new things. This was very much an OOC thing for both sides. This is why staff should be rotated out for newer people. Admins, moderators, etc.

Mawloc Othan would clap his hands together for his son-in-law and daughter. "Through thick and through thin, our people have always prevailed."

"You clearly know nothing of the Mali'ker, Mali'fenn, and the Mali'aheral and their respective histories. Bite your tongue, lesser. Or have it ripped from your mouth." a Mali'ker would respond. "Whom ever thinks the Mali'ker are poor now do not know anything about our people. Do not listen to whomever tries to label our people as futile or in need of help."

The simple man Arminius would wander his ways up to the gates of Haelun’or, recently pillaged and plundered by a war just a little less than a year ago. He had heard stories of its people but had not paid any attention to the words of feeble men and women across the lands to stay away. As he would step up to the gates, he’d admire the beauty of the city. Clearly there was more than just a few worthless individuals inside. Perhaps more awaited him on the other side; As not all stories had been of hatred and bitterness but instead of wealth, knowledge, and beauty. Arminius was graciously greeted by an unnamed Mali’aheral on gate duty. Yet he was surprised when she spoke; A female is not what he had expected to be protecting their city. “Name, Race, and reason for entry.” the woman would say. “Arminius, Cinged, and I wis’ fer’ a tour ‘o ye’ great city.” Arminius exclaimed. Still in shock that a people that was once so belittled by the rest of the world and deemed treacherous would put their women in charge of running their gates. He was asked if he had any weapons on and to remove his helmet. He had surrendered all weapons he had on him back at camp, leaving his home only with his horse, armor, and a small bit of food to sustain him in his travels. After removing his helmet and exclaiming he did not carry any weapons on his person or his horse, he would be quickly let in. As he was let into the city, he was given a rightful tour of the place by the same female guard whom was watching the gate. She would begin to show him, along with a Dark elf, the upper districts of the city which included housing, the citadel, and the library. Arminius would find the citadel quite entertaining with its grandiose interior. All the chairs lined up neatly on all sides and a large stage with only two other chairs atop it look down upon the rest. He’d make mental notes of the place as they went from one building to the next. They were shown an amphitheater, which included a fancy machine that Arminius had never seen before. They would call it a “Slot” machine yet Arminius being simple minded would not understand the contraption or why it needed to exist, especially at the back of the city. As the tour drew down to a close, the last building would be shown. Oddly enough, Arminius is taken back at the fact that this particular building would not be more guarded or behind more gates like the citadel and library were before. The source of all their money and belongings that they wish to sell internationally would be freely open to the public, unguarded by any Mali’aheral at all. He is once more surprised that a people with this much security just to get into the city and that were praised for being oh-so knowledgeable of all things would leave one of their most vulnerable assets in the open for all whom walk past it. He’d make mental notes as he asked his tour guide where the guards were at for the bank? The tour guide would exclaim “We have no guards for the bank.” With that, the tour would quickly come to an end. Arminius was told that he did not have to leave and could stay so long as he did not stir any trouble within the walls of Haelun’or or with its people. Yet by this time, all Arminius could think about was food. He wandered up into the square and would find another Mali’aheral whom had been standing, seemingly speaking to herself as she looked on to a group attempting to have a weight lifting competition in the middle of their city. “Excuse meh’, lasseh’. Could ye’ s’ow me to ye’ nearest tavern w’ere I may git some food n’ some grog?” Arminius said to the unidentified woman. The woman would be taken back by the man as the stench that came off the man would be foul. He had clearly been living a hard life in the woods prior to arriving in Haelun’or. “Erm, yes, of course.” the woman nodded as she would lead Arminius to the tavern. Here, Arminius would find himself a barkeep that was tending to two others at the time. He would quickly order himself some food and drink, refueling and preparing himself for travels in the near future. Arminius found himself at a crossroads though. He felt conflicted on the previous reports of the Mali’aheral people. Many spoke so ill of their culture and yet even for someone as disgusting, rude, and overall scary looking as Arminius, he had been treated with respect and dignity and was even offered a seat in their pub. Yet with all that Arminius had experienced on this day, the one other thing that stood out to him was the fact that they had not even placed a guard to protect their own bank. 10th of the sun’s smile, Year 65

A man in Nor'asath -13th of The First Seed- A dark, hooded figure would walk in and out of Nor’asath over the past few days, bringing in multiple forms of brewing equipment. As he would step into the city, a harsh smell of bitter herbs would radiate off the man as he walked alone. As he’d make his way to his home at Lakefront Lull 4, he’d set the equipment up within the room. Over the next couple days, loud noises could be coming from inside the home. The sound radiating from the home would be menacing; Explosions, breaking glass, and liquid sounding like an acidic mixture would spill onto the floor of the home. Smoke barreling from inside the home would seep through the cracks in the front door and into the main square. As night quickly came, a loud scream would be heard from the room and soon after an explosion that would shake adjacent homes in the lower district in Nor’asath. The man and his home would go eerily quiet in the night after he’d whisper one last set of words. “Unto Igne’acalea.”

Mawloc Othan, an intrepid Mali’ker wandered off one snowy day with his daughter in tow. Mawloc had dreamed of taking his family on one of his spiritual journeys into the wilderness and although the mother of his child would be absent for this one time, he’d seem content with going anyway. As the duo made it to shore via a boat, Mawloc would take Marzoss up a snowy peak and iced over mountain. Just coming into view as they climbed was a man-made structure, tucked deep away into the wilderness and hidden within an ice cavern. Once reaching the top, the two would stand in awe at the once forgotten village. It appeared to have been deserted long ago, yet the fires that burn in the pits would still smolder. They spoke about the village and searched it yet did not find any sign of any life aside from those fires. They’d then make their way back to the top of the mountain and out of the ice cavern, standing atop a scaffolding that overlooked the sea and neighboring mountain tops. The two would exchange a small set of friendly words before Marzoss had to head back home. Yet Mawloc with a newly acquired map of the area wished to continue on. He would say his goodbyes to Marzoss. Yet little did the duo know what would be in store for Mawloc. As Mawloc left the top of the mountain and trekked to a neighboring range, he quickly found himself atop another cavern. One deep enough to swallow even the largest creature he had ever seen. He would suddenly be covered in chills as his head would begin to spiral from the sheer height of the cavern. Vertigo starting to set in, he would turn to look and step away. As he reached up to grab hold of a nearby rock, he would lose his footing. Sliding along the ice, Mawloc would fall into the deep cavern. On his way down, he would bounce off the icy side of the mountain, crashing and banging off the occasional rock before finally reaching the bottom which had been covered in many feet of snow. It would be sheer luck that the fall had not killed him. Mawloc lays there, lifeless for a few hours. He had been knocked out cold from the fall and the longer he sat in the snow, the worse his condition had gotten. Hypothermia would begin to be a real danger. As the hours would pass, Mawloc would begin to slowly awaken to the sound of an ominous figure making strange noises. The noises would become louder and louder in the deep and dark cavern. Mawloc groans in pain quietly as he’d attempt to move yet his leg would be shattered in multiple places, his face crushed on one side from a blow to the face of a rock and both his arms cut, banged and bruised. The blue ice and white snow would have turned a deep and dark red all around him as he had been bleeding in the same spot for hours. His groans of pain only made things worse for no matter how quiet he was, every sound would echo through the cavern. The ominous figure would then come within sight of Mawloc. He’d raise a hand up to it yet he could not tell what it was. All he saw were deep blue eyes penetrating his own orange eyes. He would then quickly pass out from the immense pain as the shock would wear off. His weak gaze upon the creature would fade into black. The unknown creature would take Mawloc from the snow that very night. Yet where to, not even Mawloc would know. As Mawloc was in his coma, he had lucid dreams of his past. Mostly nightmares of the things he had done to many. Yet between the nightmares were times of joy and happiness. Yet in all of these dreams, he could see the figure that had rescued him standing in the background of every direction he had looked. Deep, blue eyes would meet his gaze at nearly every turn of the head in his dreams. Yet the last dream he had, the figure would have disappeared into thin air. The dream was of his past homes in Leyu’celia and Khel’seth. Spending time with his brothers and sisters, his family enjoying the prosperous times of their people. It’d show him teaching his family and the others how to tame the wild Bokolo. Yet it all came to a halt. He would remain in a coma for the next couple days before slowly awaking somehow at the entrance of Nor’asath. His open wounds would be wrapped with a mixture of mud and wheat mixed into a makeshift bandage. They would be wrapped around his arms with a cotton string. His face, recognizable but only barely as it would be covered in blood, dirt, and ice from the heavy damage it had sustained as he had fallen nearly to his death. The ‘Ker would groan as he laid at the top of the steps. Any passerby would easily see the bloodied man laying upon the stone and groaning for help before passing out once again.

"Two wrongs wont make a right. We are seeing history once again repeat itself with the same clans as before..." Hefjhor would exclaim to himself before shaking his head. "It wont be long before Urguan is once again split."

Hefjhor wonders how all these people from outside Urguan know about a grudge that was presented to the king and not the entire populace of Almaris.

An election for clan father Within the depths of the Doomforged Clan’s halls, several voices murmured in urgent agreement. Their once beloved Clan Father had fallen away from them, cast out from the Clan for violating it’s tenants and aligning himself with the Titan Azdromoth, and finding himself banished from Urguan. Acting with haste, the members of the divided clan met and discussed in great lengths their situation. Keeping within clan tradition the unanimous vote was cast for a new Clan Father, one who would help stabilize the clan and keep it’s members safely within the confines of the Grand Kingdom. As a creation of Yemekar and Paragon Urir Ireheart, our roots and oath to Urguan run deep. For centuries we have served Urguan and will continue to do so. The clan elects: Goddumir Doomforged As the meeting begins to come to a close, they all sign the document to elect Goddumir as clan father. Clan Father, (Written in Crayon)👇

Krag Mintymullet approves.

I'd be happy to speak with you via discord rather than clutter this thread so you can get a better understanding of where I am coming from so no one directly feels targeted. I thank the moderation team for what they're doing. But I believe more can be done in other aspects to help other (struggling) teams.