TwilightWolf

A very small mouse man rides the shoulder of his new Olog friend back to Krugmar, feeding him potatos after earning the fair price of one mina to ring the bell!

"Cogswheel think-knows those nasty pointy-ear criminals had it coming! That big-big one with the fancy belt said-told so!" the Musin says triumphantly, holding his single mina in his lap, as it was all the little guy could carry!

[!] Letters are sent all around Elvenesse with an invitation to an upcoming event! [!]

"To celebrate the completion of the House Hawksong's hall in the city of Amaethea, we have cordially invited you to partake in a traditional festival of our people to celebrate the coming of Summer! Please dress with the fires of dusk and flame, for there will be a dress competition with prizes to the top three most dapper of kin! Look out for music and dancing as well, but be sure to consider finding a partner to partake in our Horseshoe tourney to try your luck and hand at reclaiming the famed Golden Horseshoe from the current standing champion, Tahlia ap Tahorran! The entire manor will be open for viewing so that we might share our culture to all, and celebrate the warmest season of the year. As we say in our house - Sivako! Rise to the challenge!

The Lady of Twilight, Titania Hawksong, Matriarch of the Twilit Folk"

Special letters of  personal invitation are penned to the following recipients:

The Wardens and Emerald Guard

The High Prince and Princess of Elvenesse and their court

The Mother Circle and all of her members

The Seed Tahorran

The Seed Taliameonn

OOC roundup - Sunday, May 30th at 4PM EST

Horseshoe tourney requires teams of two 

Best dressed MUST be original skins or skins that you have permission to use

Prizes included!

MC Name:

         SargassoWolfen

Character's Name:

         Cogswheel

Character's Age:

         20

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         N/A

Transformed form:

         Musin

Creator's MC Name:

         N/A

Creator's RP Name:

         N/A

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

Musin are the runty mouse folk descendant from skaven the Ratiki rat-folk. Like wonks, they cannot practice magic and are not true descendants from the four. They average around two feet in height and are shrimpy. Despite this, they are exceedingly fast, keen, and intelligent. Typically they avoid conflict with an expedient departure, but will turn and use their incisors if in an absolutely bleak situation. Their tiny size makes for very little of a real threat, but certainly a nuisance to try and catch. They are quite clean creatures, nearly fanatical in their care of fur and whiskers.

While they are much more docile than their rat-folk kin, they still bare the need to gnaw their rodent incisors to a blunt and clean edge, 'borrow' things to dress themselves and use for tools, and general scavenge for all things useful. They cannot simply devour everything, though, as their GI tracts are much more sensitive. Whole fruits, crackers, vegetables and sweets are the favorite of the Musin. As for clothes, due to their scavenging tendencies they nearly are never seen in a noble's garb. Thimbles, thumbtacks, ripped cloth and various bits of otherwise scrap and garbage to other folk are treasures for the Musin.

Of course, this is really not thievery or malicious, for it is seen as reusing what is obviously not being used. Musin are the ultimate recyclers of oddities and treasures.

They are tiny at birth, comparable to most common palm-sized fruits. They mature at 15 and typically begin to die after 60-70 years of age. This is extraordinary in comparison to their Ratiki kin. This is in part to their superiour cleanliness, keeping disease and filth at bay via daily grooming. For further physical traits, they own beady light-sensitive eyes that prefer the shade of a hidey hole or a cloudy day, large ears that can easily detect the source of sounds more efficiently than other races, and a smooth to curly coats of hair that tapers off around their feet and hand-paws. Their nose is much smaller than the Ratiki, and bear sensitive whiskers. They are the smallest existing race in Almaris.

Musin prefer to learn, adventure, and mimic than war and fight for things. Their spirit and lithe form aids them in great feats of acrobatics and speed. While they would prefer not to use weapons, small things like nails, broken glass, wire or the backings of jewelry may be used as a sort of weapon in a pinch. Above all, Musin do not thieve or take from their own or from the despondent.

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

Cogswheel is a lover of all things that move, whistle, spin and make sounds, such like the name his mother gave him. In his mind he is a great Musin engineer, always tinkering away on tiny machines of questionable use or efficacy, delighting in the creations he designs from various scraps in the shops of clock-makers, smiths, and woodworkers. Above all, he is simply fascinated by wheels, how they spin, and their locomotion. He frequents the lands of the dwarves, to watch their grand mining schemes and machines with little eyes of wonder.

This little Musin stands at a stocky 2' 1", and delights in the length of his tail. His hair mimics a crimping gone wrong, with silky and wiry tufts of hair mushrooming out of his tiny engineer's outfit he fastened from bits and scraps from a late-night mousey raid in a sleepy, drunken dwarven tavern. His whiskers are jagged like branches, as if the poor thing had been struck by lightning at some point in his life. His fur is an ashy white, while his paws and tail a quiet pink. His beady eyes glimmer with a ruby, curious eyes. He carries a set of spectacles to examine tiny bits of his machinery and trinkets, and frequently wears them as he hears that smart folk that read smart books wear glasses too!

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Do you understand that if this creature's lore is undergoing an activity trial and that trial fails, you will no longer be able to play this creature and will be forced to either revert the character back to its normal form (if it was a transformative type) or stop playing the character entirely (if it is an entirely new creature)?:

         Yes

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

MC Name:

         CornerianArwing

Character's Name:

         Aerendyl Hawksong

Character's Age:

         390

Character's Race:

         Elf

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Communion

Teacher's MC Name:

         Readicti

Teacher's RP Name:

         Emilei

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, that you may no longer use it in character?

         Yes

     It was time. He had watched, waited, studied and waited again. He felt more prepared for this moment than he though he could have been... Dedicancy had instilled something much more potent than his talent alone could account for. He thought about what he might have thought in this exact moment had he simply given up with the passing of Awaiti, or with the departure of Lavinia. He felt a sense of pride in his resilience as he pondered these ideas, pacing along the coastline with a simple smile and holding the hand of what he swore was the embodiment of the ocean's grace in the form of a single elfess. She was as much his witness to his growth as the Aspects themselves, he supposed... but this was also a moment truly worth sharing, as well.

     It made sense that the bearer of the title Lord of Moonsong would have a particular longing for the beauty of the silver light of the night. He couldn't have asked for a nicer evening for the event; the rain had departed on a swift southbound current of wind and gave way to a smooth and clean shoreline. Once at a small outcropping of rock that he had found himself at for many nights in the past, he moves a stone that concealed a simple earthen tomb for his research diary. He offered himself a short smile, thumbing through the pages and reliving his thoughts as they changed from scientist to devout, and now some strange blend of the best qualities of both. 

     "It's nearly time, I think..." the elf-lord murmurs to his companion as he watches the stillness of the evening turn the waves flat and calm, like layers of liquid glass flowing over the starry reflection in the beach sand. It was a nearly perfect reflection, vaulting the two in a dizzying, astral dreamscape. Aerendyl casts a glance to his right, admiring the moonlight streaking along the stormy curls of the Lady Tahorran. "Can you promise to stay still and keep your voice low?" he asks with a simple smile, knowing well that she could and would.

     "Of course." she murmurs her reply, a whisper on the wind. Her eyes carefully waltzed up and down the familiar shoreline of her home waters. It amused Aerendyl to know that even he held a secret about the shores that she called home. He crossed his legs and balanced the breadth of his staff along his lap. His dusky eyes slip shut, offering a prayer in his mind.

Green Mother, may your breath of life find its way safely to the shore... Horned Father, may your shadow of death be just

Morea, give me the wisdom to know when a warrior stays his fury, and when he acts

     "Oh my goodness!" whispers an entranced Nemea. He opens his eyes just as he hears the small splashes, plops and flops of the young sea turtles amassing in a communal hatch. the awkward, stone shaped young flap their comically large flippers all over the beach and each other in a mad moonlit dash for the glassy surf. Hundreds erupted from their deep nests, swarming the beach like ants to a forgotten sweet.

     "Remarkable, isn't it? I've been watching this ground since before my dedicancy.. and here I see the mass hatch through with new eyes. That is my charge, to see the cycle of nature undisturbed in both the veil of life, and the shadow of death." Aerendyl mutters, his scarred lips offering a simple and peaceful smile as he is surrounded by the young turtles. The aura of life was palpable, here.

     Every now and then an opportunistic gull or a particularly mighty crab  grab up the young into a quick meal. Ever watchful, the dedicant monitors the beach with a careful gaze. He was prepared to watch the young life snuffed out as soon as it came, but such was the way of the world that Awaiti and Emilei so studiously taught him. Where there is give, there is take. Even this could not sour the sight of the mass hatch, for there was so much rich essence of nature among him, her, the moon and the ocean. He thought of his adopted son, and of his brand new niece, and wondered what price he would pay for those souls who have entered his life. What pain awaited him to balance out this bliss?

     He shooed off a group of canoeing folk at the break of a new morning... Another night fell. Another sun, another moon... The hatch lasted quite a while, and his weariness had begun to darken his gaze. He was determined, however, and saw out the very last little flipper that entered into the surf.

"What becomes of those that don't hatch?" the elfess asks with a yawn, taking his outstretched hand as they both descend the viewing rock.

"They are swallowed by the earth... nourishing the scavengers and the soil for another purpose... They aren't forgotten." Aerendyl mentions. His greatest fear incarnate: being forgotten.

"I don't see the point in continuing... this." 

     Those words haunted him like the whispering of the pines behind him. What was the point in himself? Was he actually somebody worth others investing time into, or is it some sort of cruel joke that many people were unconsciously perpetuating? Even as he was now, he didn't know the answer. He figured if he kept on the path, either answer would be clear. There was a point in what he was doing here, and what he was giving to the Order and the Aspects. That much was clear.

     "I fear that too, you know." his companion mentions as she takes his hand, beginning their journey along the shoreline. She had every reason to speak the truth, as her path was like a mirror of his own. Perhaps there was a point to it all, like those baby turtles hurdling themselves into the surf on nothing but instinct... unknown until you go on and dive right into the call of the sea: Destiny. And with that, the elf-lord summoned a smile as they departed. He'd have quite the story to tell his guide.

20 hours ago, Kaydovee_ said:

skin: brooding

bid: 140 USD

discord: danny 💸#2021

 

  Reveal hidden contents

 

Letters written in fine elvish script and sealed with a wax of carnelian shade are delivered to all who reside in Elvenesse, and to specific invitees of the High Prince

To honor the newly elected High Prince Evar'tir Oranor, the Twilit Folk of the Esteemed House of Hawksong have cordially invited you to attend the traditional coronation of the Hinterlands Royarch. Join us as we herald in a new dawn for the Blessed Folk of Sea and Forest where we remember those who have worn the crown of our ancestors before, those who have fought to defend it, those who have served and preserved our highest honor and those who have yet to bear the crown of our everlasting kin.

A grand performance of the Hawksong cultural step-dance, Valleinarnnyer or RiverDance will precede the carrying of the Crown by the Lady of Twilight, past Royarch of the united elves upon the head of the High Prince. There, ancient and traditional oaths will be sworn by the Crowned to the Nation before guests will be permitted to bequeath the High Prince with gifts, praise and prayer.

The following are invited on behalf of the High Prince

The Citizens and Council of the Crown of Elvenesse

The Grand King of Urguan, Norli Starbreaker, his Council, and his Citizenry

The King of Haenseti-Ruska, Henrik II Barbanov, his Council, and his Citizenry

The King of Norland, Sven II Edvardsson, his Council, and his Citizenry

The Sohaer of Haelun'or,  Othelu Orrar, his Council, and his Citizenry

The Lord Interrex of Luciensburg, Bernard de Salier, his Council, and his Citizenry

The Archdruids of the Druidic Order, and the Citizenry of Atoll Grove

All who willfully respect the peace may attend this blessed and rare occasion of our kin.

((General gathering at 6:30 EST in the Citadel of Amaethea, with the performances and rites starting at 7pm EST sharp))

[!] A notice has been pinned to the general event board, announcing a coming event that all may participate in! The folk of the House play merry music in anticipation for their beloved cultural pastime [!]

The horns of Hawksong ring proudly amongst the treetops, kin, announcing our traditional mounted hunt for rabbits and boar! Our House has elected to open up the ride for all who wish to join us on the following elven day for an event of fast-paced hunting, chasing and comradery of the Twilit Folk's heritage. Limited space is available if you cannot provide your own mount and supplies. However, all that can provide their own steed and supplies are welcome to join the hunting party!

We recommend both ranged and close range weapons. Keep what you catch, or collaborate with the House in food preparation for the Mani Masquerade that will follow the hunt!

Send a letter to myself to reserve your spot ahead of time to ensure the best possible experience!

3 PM EST, 4/24/21

(( This is a casual PvP event - but before you 'yikes' away, don't worry! Your characters will need to coordinate and chase down some game that will be played by willing volunteers that will drop some goodies upon being downed. The rules are as follows:

The hunt area is restricted entirely to the Hinterlands. This area is outside the main city, but within the first series of gates you encounter when walking to Amaethea. The event itself will last about 30-45 minutes, and will be a mix of RP and PvP between bouts of animal chasing. Feel free to bring any and all tools you feel will aid you in chasing down the 'game'. There will be no 'popping' of the 'game' permitted via MC mechanics, as the volunteers will be issuing a few chases after they hide. Come have a good time!))

A letter is sent to a tailored selection of family and friends to announce the date of a wedding!

"May the fair winds of spring bless you, treasured kin, for you have been cordially invited to the wedding of the Tahorran'leh Matriach, Titania, and the Violet Lady Lya. The ceremony will be held in the flower fields by the statue of the great Thunderbird Nemglan within Elvenesse. Through careful planning and years of waiting, we hope you will partake in the short ceremony to celebrate a new page in each of the Mali's lives. The wedding will occur on the twilight of the third to last cycle of the elven week. Aspects guide."

The following, special invitations are sent via the Hawksong House's beloved phoenix.

Arle Sirame and the Seed of Sirame

Axilya ap Tahorran and the Seed of Tahorran

Liri, Ithuriel, Tailesin, Sonna and the Druidic Order

The Elchae'larian establishment and their esteemed hosts and family

The High Prince Feanor Sylvaeri and the High Princess Delmira, and the elven high courts

The Caerme'onn Seed

((OOC Sunday 8pm EST near the Nemglan shrine))

     An oak tree stood still among the cold, endless fog… unmoving, statuesque. Nothing else was there. He'd seen this tree dozens of times before, and no matter how much he ran, or how much strength he forced his feet to carry, it remained ever far away. Never closer, never out of his line of sight… The elf lord was frustrated to no end. He awoke in a sweat, in the lonely comfort of his bed. These dreams did not cease to gnaw at his thoughts since he began his journey. Sometimes he wished for something else to haunt his nights, craving the warm embrace of his lady in the late hours or the steady roll of the tide. The elf-lord swept the sheets off of his bare form, his feet finding his boots as they had done every morning since the start of his long life. There, at least, something was consistent. Comforting. Tailed coat and trousers followed with their own faithful and obedient beckoning. Another day of questions, curious insight, probing into the Emerald unknown.

     That night, the fog was thinner and the oak tree was closer. He could circle around the trunk, who stood unmoving at the center of the empty clovered fields. There was no treeline, no mountains… just a consuming fog, and the green beneath his feet. He circled, and circled… a small victory sparked in his heart. Sweet progress, finally, in this maddening and recurring dream. Or so he thought, before he came face-to-face with the amber, somber gaze of a canine.It sat on its haunches, cloaked in a fiery mane of auburn and umber. The veterinarian's eyes knew exactly what this creature was as his twilit eyes follow the slender, cunning point of his maw. The coyote held a branch between his teeth, each end burning a brilliant flame that gave off no heat nor noise. It simply licked the air in wild curls and brilliant colors.

     "I don't… I don't understand." the Hawksong managed to utter, just as his eyes focused back onto the ceiling of his familiar home. The dream was gone, again. It tormented him like some unsolvable jigsaw, the pieces morphing into different shapes just as they began to seal together. His feet swing out of his bed, again, and into his routine.

     "I don't understand."

     Another day of questions. Some he could explain without obstacle, the others were impossible. Complex and malleable in his brain, no tongue of descendants could express exactly what he was seeing. He was warned of the strangeness of dedicancy, but nobody could truly prepare him for what plagued his nights and days. Another moon rises, her pale beams giving way to that same fog in his dreams. That same oak, that same coyote with the branch in his teeth… At his flanks, the statues of two great bears flank the coyote. They towered over the umber-furred creature, paws held before their waist at either end of the coyote’s branch as if they were nursing the flames themselves. The fires burned brighter, with unseen colors of an ethereal rainbow. The elf could almost hear the echoes of something, somebody… it sounded so familiar, it sounded like-

     He awoke again, staring at the ceiling that mocked his bewilderment. He threw his covers off and commanded his feet into his boots as they always did, the sunlight careening through the slats of his balcony onto his face as if to spur him on his way. One last druid, endless queries.

     The oak was ever still, again… but the fog gave away to snow. Lovely, dazzlingly white and powdery snow that danced like dainty gardenia petals down to a thin blanket of cold upon the field. The coyote waited as he always did, branch in teeth with the fires burning with nearly blinding brilliance. The statues of the bears had swiveled their head as he came to within this dream, watching… waiting for him to eventually reach the foot of the oak for answers as he always did. The crunch of the snow beneath his feet was nearly real enough to believe, if this dream hadn’t haunted every second of his mind, awake or asleep. He left no footprints as he trailed towards the coyote. To his shocked surprise, the creature finally moved as he came to a halt before him. The pads of his feet loped in a gentle canter around him, leaving a trail of dazzling embers from the fires of his branch. He could hear the voices clearly, now… it was his own.

     He saw visions of himself within the swirling firestorm, and what he dearly wished himself to be… The long locks of a flaxen elfess twirling in his fingers, his lance hoisted high in the sun amongst a line of Wardens, a clinic packed full of patients he had saved. Visions cracked across his conscious as fast as lightning, and their strange meaning rocked his soul like rolling thunder… Family, lover, duty, medicine… all things he wished to be a warrior for. Just as he reached out to take the last vision’s hand, the ivory skin of his beloved… she recoiled in fear, falling before him with bruises upon her flesh as he suddenly found himself with clenched fists. 

     “No...No!” he shouts, just as he is thrown into a wild, standing spin and seeing himself in another nightmare. A flash of his white cloak of Warden armor raked against his foe, his strikes were wild, furious, ruthless… blood poured upon the ground, as if a pack of wolves had torn through these souls. Just as he sprang forth to help them, or ask them anything… his hands were deep in the bloody, pulpy rib-cage of some long enemy of his. Their eyes were glassy, anemic, pleading as the surgeon tortured the man. All the awful things that he could be a warrior for...

     “....Help me.” The man says simply up to the surgeon, and the elf-lord emits a harrowing scream that shuns the visions of himself back to the fire, back to the coyote who sits at the base of the oak tree.

     “You have a choice ahead…” the animal spirit says, his maw unmoving as he carries his branch. His voice was ancient, old, and cunningly wise.

     “Awaken, Aerendyl, and forge your chosen path…”

     The elf does, rousing from his sleep as the dream fades away with the explosion of crow feathers.  He felt oddly calm as he decided to lay there for a while, turning his head to his loyal pair of boots. They didn’t find his feet that morning… instead, the elf walked out of his house that day with a pair of simple but elegant robes, off to find his teacher.

The eyes of his totem awoke that day, seeing clearly.
 

Aerendyl shakes his head as he reads the missive, remembering clearly the day that Vulen resisted a simple arrest and doomed his own fate.

"The council almost deserves this shameful defeat, for lacking a spine. The Sea Turtle will swallow the Crown."

From somewhere in the circle of healing, after wrapping up a lecture a loud, genuine laugh is heard rumbling from the classroom after reading halfway through the demands.

"A... A bow?! That makes the difference?!" the elf-lord guffaws, wiping a humored and even possibly happy tear from his eye.

"Dear Malin, they might be grasping at a bit much, but damn if they don't at least have a sense of humor."

Aerendyl reads the missive over a smoke post mud-wrestle, shaking his head at the note. Having seen and participated in the attempted arrest of Vulen, he chuckles at the falsities in the text.

"This bloke is assuming that his little boy's nose was nice and clean. He's either very ignorant, or doesn't give a ****. That'd be a shame if it was the later, if he's going to be calling for blood anyway..."

He sets the note aside to keep for future reference and draws a circle over his chest. Hawksong would remain with Tahorran. Feather and mane, hawk and steed, sails and saddles. He settles his rapier to his side and makes his way to the Tahorran boats.

"What is a L'EERMITTAGE?" Titania says poorly, the new and strange high elven tongue proving foreign from her usual common or elvish speak as she sits around the fire with Laetranis and her kin. She scratches her head, narrowing her eyes further onto the picture on the pamplet. "And where's Paris?"

She reads it over a few times, the elf recalling Aegisian days where the press was either much more quiet or far more interesting, she couldn't recall at this point. She did remember the lack of a silver city, though.

Either way the pamphlet ended up in the fire and she donned a happy look of contentment in the heart of  Amaethea. 

((As a note, this is an event that overlaps my IRL birthday! I can't actually go anywhere special due to my line of work even if I am vaccinated, so I thought I'd just lump mine and my character's big day together so I can have some sort of party this year. This year is also my tenth anniversary in the community, so I think it's a cool way to celebrate with the whole community! Come have fun with us!))

An invitation is left at the mailbox/taxbox of every registered home and seed hall, with a formal address to the blessed Seeds and Houses of Elvenesse.

The House of Hawksong cordially invites you to attend a very special gathering to celebrate the golden years of our House Matriarch, Titania!

It is with great pride that we do celebrate her life, but we wish to celebrate the blessed long years of Mali as a whole as well. Therefore, a grand gathering in the Elvenesse throne room will take place in one elven week.  There is no requirement of gift-giving, but party contributions from the great families of Elvenesse is greatly encouraged so that we may celebrate in the blessing of the long lives of all elves and the ageless bounty of each house and seed.

The Pamphlet contains a mock painting of a real portrait of the Twilit Matriarch, followed by a short biography for those unfamiliar

As an Aegisian War veteran, Titania has had a long history of allegiance with the elven people from the old city of Laurelin to the Great Halls of Amaethea today. She has been a mother, a Malinorian High Princess, Teutonic General, Dominion Princess and faithful servant of the Crown since her departure from leadership. Many of our cities have been crafted in whole or in part by her hand, and currently she resides in Elvenesse living out her sunset years as the Head of House Hawksong and the Rochirran.

What to expect at the event!

Community Games

Food

Artifact Raffle (no cost to play)

Drink

Music

Dancing

Additional, personal invitations are as follows

To the Esteemed House of DeNurem

         The descendants of the Legendary Hochmeister Mirtok are invited to reminisce and reforge bonds once shared so closely during the age of Anthos and the Fringe.

To the Snow Druid

        The Mother of her Beloved is invited to celebrate, and any additional party of which you desire to bring.

To the kin of Artimec, the Blessed Seed of Caerme'onn

       The blood of one of her closest friends are especially welcome, for the bond between Hawksong and Caerme'onn is old and unwavering

To the Oracle, Awaiti Sirame

        The once fellow ruler of the elven people, and teacher of the brother of the Matriarch is invited to celebrate their roles in history

To the Proud Hawk-kin of  Seed Tahorran

            The masters of the river and sea, whom have embraced a ironwood-strong friendship with the House of Hawksong are invited to liven the event with their spirit

((Time 7 EST Saturday the 27th of February))

It was all over the ground. Splattered against the back of the stable door and coagulated on the ground like some sick mockery of moss, the blood of the beloved Sire, Dam and firstborn of the line of the Rochirran's legendary steeds drench the ground and overflow over their bedding. Where there was strong, determined life in the eyes of their companions now there was only the reflection of fear in their final moments.  Butchered. Mangled. Nearly unidentifiable if it were not for the unfortunate stumbling of Aerendyl and Onas.

"...I found them like this, mal'onn." The younger elf stammers as the twilit elder turns the final key to the stables. The herd had backed into a corner, scarred and riled into a frenzy instead of proudly greeting the Rochir.

His senior's pipe dropped to the ground and extinguished in the sodden, bloodied earth beneath him. The veterinarian knew every bit of anatomy that was mangled in front of him... and the longer he looked to soak in the carnage the more pain tied knots in his core. It was too much, and it boiled up his throat into a rumbling cry that shook the upper knoll of Amaethea.

"RHOAM, ISHANTE... LADY BET!"

"I saw no signs of forced entry, or lockpicking..." Onas says lowly, grimacing at the thought of his next conclusion. "Whoever did this had access. What can Mali do against such reckless hate?"

Aerendyl listened indeed, but his normally golden voice was tarnished with the roiling anger and sorrow of his soul. He shakes beneath the hand of his brother poised atop his shoulder, and the elder falls to his knees in the puddle of gore with a sickening 'splish', abandoning his usual care for presentable attire. His trousers stain in the equine's blood and his hands snap to his scarred face in a poor attempt to cage the rare display of raw, tortured emotion.

"I... I haven't any babies of my own... These ARE my babies, Onas! It hurts so much..." He stammers nearly incoherently. He winces in pain and throws his arms into a hug. The Rochir's soul felt like it had been severed with a knife and thrown to a pack of wolves to tear apart, and all semblance of composure was futile.

"I should have locked the doors better... I couldn't protect them, I couldn't-" the scarred elf sputters, cut off by the guiding hand of his worried brother.

"Come." Onas murmurs, lowering himself to a knee and wrapping his arm around his elder friend to guide him out of the scene of death and carnage. "We needn't stay here in this... miasma of death."

"NO!" Aerendyl cries out in desperation, ripping himself from the embrace of his kin and nearly throws himself atop the body of his favorite companion. He splatters his body atop the puddles of blood and flesh, and weakly reaches for his knife to place it to the lifeless husk of his once proud and powerful equine companion.

"I'm so sorry, Rhoam... My friend," he says, sawing a length of the stallion's murky mane between sobs. He clutches the length of mane to his chest, wailing and grimacing at the pain in his chest. "My partner, my soul-warrior..."

The two linger in the stable as the twilit elder rocks himself to a state of being able to stand, finally. He shuffles to the door, glassy-eyed and unsteady like a poorly inhabited husk.

Onas speaks up with a frown, following after Aerendyl as he pushes past the doors with his shoulder, not daring to let go of the last piece of his equine friend. 

"Heya kae ern'omediere, Aerendyl?"

"Ito Machana kaean chul'maillerae." he responds, his hand and lock of mane glued to his chest as if it were literally a part of him. The pain overcame the Rochir in waves as he paced away from one of the last times he would ever see his beloved partner. Even still, a fire alight in his heart. One of hatred, confusion, and vengeance. He swore to himself whoever dealt such pain to him would have his body broken, mangled, and experience more fear in his last moment than those poor souls in the stable. He will feed his soul to Morea. 

4 minutes ago, NotEvilAtAll said:

tfw prices are still in free-fall and thus your grinding is no longer worth crud but you still feel obligated to do it because otherwise your community gets poor as heck.

This is not made to be taken seriously lol

Hi I made a dumb comic about an inside joke that Zilldude and I have have for a while. I put it to paper. Enjoy? You may need to open up the image fuller since the canvases are large.

Source media

   IGN:

               Discord: Twilight#0595

               Character Name: Titania Hawksong

               Position: Artisan

               Art: Textile and Painting

Somewhere in the docks of Elvenesse, in an unassuming little home, Titania grips her chest as a sudden palpitation ruffles her old soul.

Twilight's Illustrations

Welcome to my LOTC specific commissions page! I've been doing art as a hobby for a while, and while most of my portfolio is physical I have come into possession of an art tablet that will allow me to create digital art as well. I have a heavy background in traditional oil painting particularly in landscapes and pet portraits, so most of my work is done in a painterly style. I can do just about all that I offer in pencil and charcoal, however, so if you'd like an alternative medium I am happy to accommodate!

I recommend viewing the source image, as I tend to use large canvases for detail!

Full Character Scene

Have your character(s) painted in a setting and background of your choosing! This is the largest illustration for characters that I can create. We can discuss the setting and theming of the piece, and a rough sketch will be provided prior to beginning the painting.

Animals and additional characters can be added with negotiable price. 

Base Price 75 USD

Without scene/background standalone character 65 USD

Landscape Illustration

From fantasy to still life, I'll put it on paper. If you have a project that needs some concept art, I'd be happy to help!

I am also able to convert Minecraft screenshots into landscapes. If you'd like a place on LOTC illustrated, I'm your gal!

Base price 60 USD

Heavy architecture and or monsters/dragons/animal life 75 USD

Character Bust

A painting of your character from the shoulders up. I can do with or without a background for PNG junkies! 

Animals and various effects added for negotiable price.

Base price 30 USD

For a more detailed background 40 USD

Pet Portrait 30 USD (Photo required for obvious reasons)

Miscellaneous art such as flags, heraldry and weapons concepts are welcome, as well! I price these according to the amount of work required.

BONUS CONTENT - MEMES

I love memes, I love drawing... let me draw your memes.

As long as it's not too complicated, 15$. No questions asked

Thanks for stopping by! You can reach me at my discord Twilight#0595. Please forward all inquires there!

Fantastic job! Thank you for your hard work!

36 minutes ago, Hiebe said:

I see your frustration. I wish you wouldve reached out or made a worldreq.

 

Ill be having the world team make a small nether pit in a hub.

 

Please remember nations can also buy improvements as well that will have 4 times the amount of resources hubs have for its type.

I did attempt to reach out in the tech chat, but was forwarded to your post.

I  have discovered that  the hub in the east grants a very generous maximum of 3 sea lanterns that are possible with the node setup.

So that means I can wait a collective 20 hours if I don't sleep or work and the job will be done!

Alternatively, I have also discovered that Alt accounts can mine the same node and get the same materials. So that cuts my collective time to 10 hours!

Suppose then I could go ahead and buy a THIRD account and get it whitelisted and lessen my time some more, which might be a better investment than giving this server another red cent with the way things are going.

26 minutes ago, KillerPandas said:

 

Hi, I know how you feel. Until some form of obtaining them will be available please try to use sea lanterns. I know it's inconvenient but its the best I could think of.

Sure, that's fine, but what about the people that don't have easy replacements? I have yet to see a sensible reason why blocks on the server are being locked up tighter than fort knox.

Hey there, I don't know where else to put this and my patience for this plugin/iron fist economy is going to make me have an aneurism so I guess it goes with nexus vortex debate???

I've been here for almost a decade. I don't complain too much provided that I have SOME sort of solution or alternative accessible to me in regards to rescources/needs serverside. This will be my first post frankly b******* about something as I feel it is completely unacceptable for the standard of the server that has been since since AEGIS.

I've been working on some cultural events for the elves in my spare time since I have a life and a full time job, and was stoked to start unveiling my plans for the new map. For anybody that has run an event, however, they take careful planning, time management, and more often than not decorations or materials. The server does a great job of giving us access to obscure heads, and in the past has been able to provide the playerbase with the impossible or hard-to-obtain items in the cloud temple. And if that doesn't solve the issue, I have in the past been able to make a reasonable trade with a staff member to get the material that I need. Then comes Vortex and this bizarre change of mindset that I simply haven't seen on the server in all the years that I have been here.

Enter Twilight on the eve of Dec. 5th, building the Elvenesse Christmas tree with the leaves that I have (no joke) been trying to collect myself for the past two weeks from the measly bush nodes we have in the back of our city. Every day I have logged on, spam clicked the leaves and braved the mines to make the necessary tools to harvest said leaves. Who knew that my character's hands weren't good enough to snap some twigs off a bush! Thankfully the players of the elves were kind enough to take time out of their day to help me collect the rest when I came up short. 

Eventually I get around to finishing the shape of the tree. Hooray! Time to put the lights on! Or so I figured.

I (foolishly) assumed that if I had harvested the equivalent resources that are actually obtainable for the redstone lamps that I would be able to exchange or buy the whopping  31 lamps that will serve no other purpose than to add light to a tree. They are not part of some extravagant redstone strobe-light trap and they are not being used for some grand elven heist IRP, so what's the problem?

Come to find out after a modreq that there are no exchanges or buying. Alright, certainly there is another method for obtaining these simple blocks, yes? Evidently not, and I am now experiencing in full the absolute madness that is the state of the server at this point.

It should be said I have nothing against the staff grunts that are just doing their job.

So as it turns out, there is no solution! There has been no system to support the decorative and building feats of the players on a MINECRAFT server! A game that literally revolves around building and making fantastic structures!

This is where I'm getting a bit steamed at this server. Are you  meaning to tell me that after you half-implemented a plugin that makes it intentionally difficult to get the resources needed for building to try and drive up their value, and after you released it in that state on a build that has been going on for literally months, WITH some communities getting LITTLE TO NO SUPPORT during transfer so that they could have a nice place to RP,  you didn't provide an alternative to meet player needs even if they put forth the effort to meet YOU halfway, whose supposed to be helping US? Are you f****** kidding me? Is this server driven for the staff or the players?

I am really starting to absorb why so many people are ticked off at the server right now. Frankly this launch has been a complete and utter management disaster. You ought to be d*** ashamed of yourselves for shafting communities that don't have a nation to umbrella over them. We have NEVER taken this harsh of a stance on the community since I have been here. EVER.

This is a bit bigger than me missing out on my christmas lights. The point I'm trying to make is that the lack of action, very EASY action to remedy similar problems other players may be facing is outrageous. Open up the resources and give the little man a break.

Additionally, you are doing the developer of Vortex an absolute injustice by allowing it be halfway released and setting the staff and creator up for failure. I honestly think the plugin would be exceptionally cool if it had been released in full, the output of gathered resources was hiked, and the playerbase had been given more informaton. I actually LIKE the way resources are gathered now, despite being meme'd on after the fact by the ridiculous hoarding of meaningless materials.

But that all is on the backburner while there are people in the community that have problems that dwarf this minor inconvenience that I am experiencing. It's disgusting.

If there aren't even events going on the server that are sponsored BY the server with full access to what they need, why are the people that are trying to fill that void being punished?

That'll conclude my feedback, but seriously...

If I need to make some sort of blood pact with an admin that I will return the  whopping  31 lamps after Christmas so they're not circulated into the economy, I will. If I have to pay 200 minas for the batch, I will. At the end of the day I am here for an experience of MINECRAFT with roleplay flavor. If you prevent me from playing Minecraft in the process, it's essentially degrading the experience to glorified forum RP in a game engine I can only partially interact with.