Serf

+1 I'm not wasting 5 hours of my time just to get power-gamed by an ST and told to suck it afterwards. Open up or expand on ST ores. Make them obtainable by some esoteric mechanics. If people chimp out over ores like last map, let them. At least it gives them some purpose to be on here.

First time bothering with any feedback requests, but here we go. Playing off and on since Aegis, I feel that the server has been in decline for a while now. I think everyone agrees with that, and this map is probably one of the worst in a while. Not only in mechanics but in the community as well. There’s absolutely no point in logging on. Every hour spent on LotC is an hour of my life wasted it feels like. I play, I do my thing, and log off unsatisfied. I take long breaks and come back to the same old drama and politics. There’s no character progression with players because the server doesn’t facilitate it. So why should I waste hours on here getting nowhere? Like many have said in this thread, there’s this obsession with being conflict and risk adverse among the playerbase. This is a major pillar in what makes roleplay, which isn’t enforced at all, and because it isn’t enforced, there’s absolutely zero progression in story. And when there’s an attempt to progress things, it is usually stopped with some arbitrary server rules or lore mechanics that takes IRL months to resolve, making everything pointless and irrelevant very fast. Roleplay isn’t a long drawn out or planned storyline. It’s spontaneous and improvisational that resolves itself rather quickly. That’s what roleplay is. That’s what makes rolepaly fun but a lot of people here don’t understand that at all. Nothing is more annoying than seeing a majority of players in their cities outright ignoring players because they don’t know them OOCly, paragraph posting at a tavern, or doing slice of life garbage. It doesn’t lead anywhere or progress a story. It’s just sad escapism that we’re all here forced to entertain. Mechanically this server needs things that are openly available to the player that lets them progress their character, rather than submitting to the crap I listed above. Systems that put everyone at risk would help. Permakill clauses, risk of losing items, and whatever else will make players want to develop and progress their character so that they can survive. Bring back a skill and profession system like Nexus during 7.0/Axios that players can interact and roleplay around. Implement SOMETHING that isn’t gatekept or involve players sitting around getting groomed in a manor every single day. Many might say "Well I don't have time for that..." WELL TOO BAD. You probably have 2 days a week logged into the server anyway. HAVE MECHANICS THAT FORCE THEM OUT INTO THE WORLD AND ROLEPLAY!!!! The nodal system is AWESOME. I don't care what anyone else says but we should have more of that. It forces people outside of cities and sets them up for potential player interaction (good or bad) No ST interaction from farming herbs, and whenever ST ores come out I hope to GOD I don't have to interact with them. I have other criticisms, but this is the main thing. I donated $500 to the server, so I hope to see that money go toward a better server or something at least.

Agamm's corpse stirred in it's grave. There was no mention of the kinslaying on his friends and himself over the diamond mine of Dol'Vekaan. Though his spirit was soon sated after vividly recalling his enactment of revenge by smashing in the head of Morul Irongrinder, whom he was ironically buried next to.

A letter arrived for Githaic ‘the Mad’, wherever he may be. “Bold and stupid. It’s unfortunate your pitiful family had you exiled from the city in favor of some woodland sprite. Your lament for mercy would have sounded nicely among the rest as I peeled the flesh back from your skull. Come you skittering cockroach, invite yourself to the slaughter so that you may join the rest of them after I bring my heel down on your head.”

EXTINGUISHED BY A BLACK HAND A vivid recollection of a seaside palace nestled between the palms of a remote overgrown resort came into view. The weather was clear, as always, and sat on the crumbling terrace were two dwarves who conversed over a glass of whiskey at an old table. Their words were warped as they weaved between the ocean breeze. “Conan, It’s good to see you back here reunited with family…” “Times are tough, as you can see. Akueli is dying because of Bakir’s greed…” “Don’t listen to the lies, Conan. The Grand Kingdom is not what it used to be. This iteration is rotten, fueled by hypocrisy and blood. The only hope we have for our kin is here in Akueli…” The scene continued for several more hours until the elder dwarf departed, leaving the other alone. Night fell, and as dawn broke upon the sea, the seaside resort was nothing but worn stone and overgrown tropical greenery. Atop the palm trees sat two dwarves upon a checkered tablecloth conversing over an Adrian-styled dish. “You think you have what it takes to be Clanfather, boy…?” Spoke the dwarf with golden eyes. “You are young, malleable, and weak. You’ll become corrupted like the rest of them and bring shame to this family. Your goals are nothing special, and I doubt you truly see what our people need in this world.” He berated the young dwarf coldly, speaking over him. “You don’t have the guts to do what I did, to take risks for a chance at true freedom. You cling to the coattails of false idols, listening to them instead of family, and more importantly, yourself…” “End it... end this pathetic family so I may be free of it!” The fiery dwarf reached forward, his hands digging into the chest of the younger dwarf, hoisting him up toward the rising sun. As Torsun’s eyes stared into Thalgrim’s, the scene twisted as stone walls closed in around them, reminiscent of the family halls within Kal’Kadrelaz. “You do not have what it takes to be Clanfather, Thalgrim. And for your worthlessness, I release you from your pitiful existence.” His metal arms grinded with hatred as they kept the boy suspended, his jagged knuckles tearing into flesh and rupturing his internals in a gruesome show of blood and gore. In one slick motion, Thalgrim’s body was torn in two, showering the Machine of Death in crimson rain of his own cousin. Now standing tall upon the bodies of his own family, a disembodied metallic voice resonated throughout the hall. “Does anyone here have what it takes to challenge me!?” Whimpering was heard in the corner of the hall among the bodies, an old dwarf identical to the one seen in the seaside vision. Battered and bloodied, he crawled out from the corpses until his hands met something lifeless and cold. Slowly his vision panned up to the sight of his family’s butcherer, a dwarf warped and twisted by the gift of metal. Incoherently he begged for his life, his cries quickly extinguished as a metal foot came down upon his head. “Mercy is disgusting.” Silence washed over the bloodied hall as life ceased to be. “With no other pretenders left to contest, I declare myself the last TRUE Goldhand and Clanfather. This weak lineage has met its end by my unforgiving hand, and with kin's blood staining my grasp, I embrace the name Blackhand. Let it be known that anyone foolish enough to dare revive this pitiful family will find themselves facing the very same doom that met them today.”

Deep beneath the stone in a secluded place, Torsun Blackhand sat in darkness, contemplating the destruction and decimation he had brought upon his own blood. Eventually whomever he was with would present to him Alaric’s declaration. “After everything I’ve done, Alaric dares to challenge me? I’ll turn that pathetic inbred family into thin red paste. Or worse, sick the Glodite dogs upon him. I dub you Alaric the Fool as that's what you’ll always be. Just a fool.” His metallic voice echoed harshly as he mused to himself.

How old are you? Where do you live? Single?

"Idiot." scoffed the irrelevant Goldhand.

"Its either kill or get killed, Rylanor." The half-borg dwarf muttered, his ticking eyes trailing off of the pinned letter. "You'll regret sparing your enemy when they come back to finish a job you failed to do."

Through a Goldhand visiting or by whatever means, the crippled dwarf had caught wind of the Grandaxe's passing. He writhed in physical pain until eventually washing it all away with a heavy drink and stimulants. Deliriously he declared "I remember this Grandaxe- yes this ONE, the one who I gave Armakak's Coin to. The one who visited me in Arichsdorf in a different timeline who saw but didn't want to admit it." He grumbled as he leaned back in his wheelchair. "But the last time we saw each other it was left on a terrible note. I hope YOU don't come to haunt me like every other dead dwed who 'ascended' to those halls above had done so." The rambling dwarf rolled his gold eyes, the vaults falling silent once more after his own voice had left it. -+ Pictured Bjorn visiting Torsun in Arichsdorf +- "Good-bye, Bjorn. A rare Grandaxe blessed by Armakak."

"I take credit for all of this." A crippled Goldhand declared.

"Finally... he's dead."

I'd downvote this post.

Torsun Goldhand, serial betrayer of the Grand Kingdom, failed trade prince, and schizophrenic, sprints through the barren square of Urguan at peak time to ensure the least amount of social interaction, even ignoring anyone who dared call his name. His mission was far more important than meager talk with old enemies. He reached the unguarded ballot box and casted his vote. Name: Torsun Goldhand Sigrun Ireheart Agnar Grandaxe Alaric Grimgold (X) The mere minute it took to run to the ballot box earned him his right to vote again in Urguan. The GLODSWEEP IS AT HAND.

TORSUN turned away from the nailed missive muttering insensitive slurs to those around him about the Starbreaker folk. "Did Norli seriously misspell my name!? What a bastard!"

" All goes according to plan... " Echoed the voice of a crimson masked figure. " The dwarves are no longer unified- splintered over mere intrigue and madness. " A golden figure within the chamber moved to the balcony and looked upon the glittering sea that was before him. " Even in death I still manipulate the masses. Isn't that right, Norvarsson? "

"GIVE ALARIC ANOTHER CHANCE! LET HIM BECOME GRAND KING!" Screamed a Glodite fanatic from mountains of the Grand Kingdom.

The Murder of a Name <12th of Snow’s Maiden, 90 SA> “Torsun… I just purchased a death permit for the mines… GIVE ME THE KEYS NOW.” A warped voice called out from the darkness of an oddly familiar office. “Torsun… They know where you live. They’ve been watching you while you sleep. You can’t stay here anymore or YOU WILL DIE.” A hellish voice screamed out from the darkness of a dimly lit cottage. “Torsun~ … WHY DON’T YOU COME TO THE GRAND KINGDOM OF DEATH AND FACE THE ULTIMATE PUNISHMENT THAT A TRAITOR LIKE YOU DESERVES.” A booming voice resounded throughout the blackened stone halls from a dwarven figure who wore a crown shrouded in darkness. As Torsun approached, the figure’s face was that of Bakir Ireheart’s before quickly warping and contorting into that of an eldritch horror with a thousand eyes, and his beard turned to flesh. Out of reactionary fear he fell to the floor and was quickly washed away by the whispering stones of the blackened city. “Torsun… Yemekar’s Axe of the Grand Kingdom.. It is an honor to have you back in our wretched city again. Will… the mining expeditions kill more of your slaves… ? You’ve abandoned us… what ever happened to the Foundry of Flesh? You dare turn… your back upon the Darkness Prophet of Vur’door… ?” The stones chattered ceaselessly until he was washed upon the familiar footsteps of the Workforce offices where a limbless half-orc rested. He turned his head to Torsun, a smirk growing upon his face at the sight of him. “Oi, bozz. I’m happy you’re back, but you haven’t been the same since the head injury. That pickaxe knocked you out for days, and you started talkin’ all weird. Things have changed since you’ve been gone…” “HE EXPECTS YOU.” The half-orc turned his head toward the doors that bore a visage of the Ruhn Prophet he knew, his mouth agape and from it a faint whisper could be heard. “Torsun… You betrayed me… Norli… you betrayed. You and I.. we could have ruled over these pathetic halls… taught the golems how to kinslay… and genocide the agnarumm. This is what the Brathmordakin demands of me… We must do… I WILL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” The faces began to weep as tears ran down from their eyes to form a puddle of blood at the foot of the door. As they lamented, the doors shook violently as hundreds of thousands of runes adorning the entirety of the building pulsed with violet and gold energies until the foundations of the structure buckled and collapsed in on itself. Among the rubble, after the dust settled, sat a massive automaton flanked by stout figures who wore wicked masks of black and gold, their heads slowly panning to where Torsun was sat crouched. The uncanny silence of the hall was broken by a reverberating hum as the monstrous construct rose and made way for the helpless dwarf. “Cagli- Rylanor w-why did you betray me for Alaric and Urguan!? After everything I’ve done for you and your children…” He cried out at the grinding machine, the first words spoken since appearing in the dark halls. The monstrosity of metal came to a halt, looming over the tiny dwarf in comparison as he stood atop the debris. Steam spewed forth before a grating voice filled the cavern. “Because you betrayed ME, Torsun. You have hated me since stepping foot in these halls. It was you who told Norli of Dorimnur’s fate and the hand I played in it.” The machine hummed loudly. “Your betrayal of Urguan was orchestrated to dispose of me, but it didn’t go your way now did it?” He stepped down before the dwarf, the ground trembling as he had done so. “And now… I WILL TEAR OUT YOUR HEART.” As an outstretched hand came for Torsun, he frantically crawled his way through the darkness and mud before falling down into the pools of Mugdor. Without struggle, he sank beneath the waters and drifted away. Euphoria was felt as an elven figure took shape and embraced him, resting her head overtop his. A voice permeated the waters. “Torsun… I’ll protect you like I promised. Please… take off the blindfold. Regain your sight. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.. But I can’t stand the guilt of seeing you wander around in darkness like this. I’ve done so much for you, so why can’t you do this for me, ti?” She squeezed him one last time before pulling away, taking a hand to his face to cast off the blindfold, revealing his aurum eyes. The figure smiled and took his hand, pulling him up through the water and casting him out of the pool. “Ahernan...” He surfaced from the stagnant waters, gasping for air as he thrashed about until making it to the ledge and pulling himself out. As he laid there and opened his eyes, the all too familiar feeling of paranoia took root again. The distant chatter of the city and metalwork was heard as the halls were lit. “Why am I here?” He muttered to himself. “To end Bakir’s thousand year reign..?- No.. to get the funds for the ferry… but why are they all looking at me?” "Will you just shut up and die, traitor? Do us all a favor and die already. What did you just say about my clan?” "What do you want me to do, Torsun? Give you the funds from the treasury without my master’s permission? He’ll have me castrated for doing my job.” "Do you want to say that to my face, Torsun? Stop trying to hide behind people and face the execution you deserve.” The surroundings of Mugdor began to melt away as voices filled his head, the granite square of the city coming into view and a crowd coalescing into existence with all eyes set upon him. Confused and terrified at the sudden appearance of Bakir, he grabbed ahold of the only familiar face next to him, and pulled him forward as a shield. “Bakir…” He trembled. “I didn’t say anything about you! Why can’t you just honor the terms of this treaty and- ….” Torsun looked down as a steel tip ripped through his stomach, warm blood forming and running down his body. He let out a dying gasp as he attempted to grasp at his wound, his vision fading as he fell to the ground in a puddle of his own blood.

Torsun tosses the missive to the side. "This won't stop me."

Torsun smiled after hearing that his suggestions were adhered to.

Full removal. No explanation.