Treshure

– Your carriage has veered the beaten path of this world’s routes. You have gone through old, ancient, and then forgotten places. A traveler, a merchant, a statesman? Your role does not matter. All of such embark on their own journey of meaning. The beaten and haggard faces of your wagon’s companions stare back at you. You begin to wonder if they bear the same yearning of purpose as you do. Perhaps they are simply lost. Aren’t you? You have arrived. A derelict and trodden wasteland lies before you. The sun scorches it in the day and freezes its windswept planes by night. The ephemeral powers of Man are nowhere to be seen, for there is little to yield of this place than dust and bones. Have great Empires ruled this desert? Was its dried husk a bountiful strait millenia ago? There is little evidence of such. The winds grow by the hour and force you to a cavernous shelter; a massive storm brews on the horizon. The cave is deep and unending, filled with a dim red light that hangs on its walls. A soft howl fills the air. Is it the storm above, or something below? The cave slopes downwards, with jumping shadows now pitching across the cavernous ceilings. At its deepest ends lies a brazier alive with fire. The ruby tone seen before has grown to a sickly crimson ichor, smeared in thick fashion across the walls around you. Etchings ornate these colors; that of orcs, angels, demons, and curses. Burnt and blackened bodies lay before the brazier. Above it are etched three ivory sentences; the letters are jagged, cruel, and without remorse. - BLOOD IS WATER - - ORDER IS DEATH - - WAR IS PEACE - Something is coming for you. ((Clan post coming soon.))

– A waning sun sighed over Ves. Beams of light scattered through wooden beams and stone arches, washed over windswept waters, and draped across the faces of Kaedrin that walked the streets of that early eve. There amongst them sat one sable cloaked wanderer. An ashen hood fell hung over his hunched head, pulled toward the papyrus scroll beneath him. With every multitude of ink strokes, he cast wary eyes to the townsfolk. He was not of their kind, and he felt that fact thick in the air. Slowly, notices would be found across taverns - from Kaedrin, Helena, and then all provinces beneath the umbra of Empire. “To those of the Rhenyari - that of the Magian Mountains, of South Rhenyar, one who sings praise of Mitras and follows Kitran by starry night - I call you! I have spent my life lost and cast away. I have travelled vast sands and arid mountaintops, hoping to see my people in more than thin passings. I know that we were more than bands of roving magi. I have heard whispers – of mystic revelations, and lands filled with wayward sons as I. Come, ye of Rhen! Meet me in Ves, so that we may be bring together which was lost at long last. Adio, Balthazar”

Thexan sees that Fenn is predominantly fair skinned and white of hair! He rushes off to bleach his skin. It's what a true wood elf would do.

A letter is penned in response. “Brother, I must admit that I had not been aware Gladewynn had been dissolved prior, lest I would have erred the task entirely. The missive in and of itself spoke to a higher degree of the work that must further be done. Where-oft our fabled blood roams, bounty follows. I do not doubt the earth gives way to our feet; in quiet times, we drink rich on the natural beauties this land provides us. The Blood of Alder lives on, and will enjoy this quality for time immemorial. In this sense, we are not sleeping. We are eternally lucid and entwined with the woods around us: watching, waiting, and living. Yet it was not what I referred to in my letter. When we had first emerged in the Dominion’s early days, the realm itself twisted to our ambition. There is a nascent power that sleeps. It is time for an awakening. When we meet, I will tell you of what is to come. I will never forget the song of our people, And in that strange light, a lost people found unto themselves. No gates or walls marred our land - only the trees, and silent eyes within. But there is yet more.” Thexan Ithelanen

whatever you do, do not rep this post.

now you have more time to focus on middle school good job

When you were new, you were blind to the general blandness around the server. You’re getting older, and now you’re seeing it. Is LotC dying? No. It’s always been this way. You’re just now entering a position where the fun RP you seek is up to you to create.

Make a scribe type character and join my nascent writers guild don’t even have to take it super seriously but it’s a good way to sharpen your writing skills and still have fun doing it