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Fid

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About Fid

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    Once Forgiven, Twice Deposed
  • Birthday 01/01/1995

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    _Fid_
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    tsmirnov0@gmail.com

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    Prince Belestram Sylvaeri

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  1. MC Name: _Fid_ RP Name: Lodbairn Emberhorn Dwelling(Kal’Varoth, Hefrumm, etc.): Traveling Candidate: Gimli Grandaxe, a good and stout-hearted Dwed
  2. “I do not recall this elf or any mention of his existence as a relative of Kalenz, my uncle,” says Durion. “Renarion’s blood is true- he is of my own line... but this ‘Silir’ is most certainly an impostor.”
  3. “And verily I say unto you, go forth and fear no darkness; for ours is the way of the Light, and no foul evil may turn us away from our Oath.” -Aegnor I Starfinder, first bearer of the Seastone Crown. The Venerable House of Sylvaen Mar’lin Sylvaeri The House of Sylvaen, often known colloquially as the House Sylvaeri, is an ancient Elven bloodline which traces its furthest roots to the ancient homeland of Malinor. Alongside the elder Elves of the House Silma, they serve as representatives of the Elder Bloodlines upon the Continent. While the extent of their early history is best told in the Lay of Aegrothond and other tales, they have made their mark upon modern Elven history as well; many have served as High Princes, Princes, and Lords in Old Malinor, the Dominion, and Aegrothond. The Sylvaeri Despite the great span of years which has passed since their formation as a distinct bloodline, the House has remained generally uniform in appearance and in phenotypic traits. They are almost always possessed of peculiarly grey eyes, akin to their forebear, and this is the surest method of discerning pure blood. They are more varied in the colour of their hair- while the dominant colour has always been dark, the Sylvaeris of the Atlasian era are largely fair-haired. Their skin is also fair, though tends towards tan in those who spend a great deal of time in the sun and sea-spray. The House dresses primarily in shades of crimson and gold- simple garb, and fitted for the active trades. Common also are earthy tones, and sometimes autumnal wreaths, though these are considerably rarer. They are not, despite their other vices, particularly prone to vanity- as such they rarely adorn themselves for the benefit of others, and only do so to their own humble satisfaction. To this end they have a greater appreciation for jewelry, especially in the realm of gold and precious gems- but they love silver best, and pale diamond and opal-stones which are found deep beneath the earth. They are not miners themselves, however, and as a result the House has often made alliance with representatives of Dwarven Mountain Clans; they are welcome in their woodland halls, and the Dwarvish language is commonly learned by their children. The sons of Almenor are with few exceptions proud and haughty, and value personal honour highly; the spirit of fire associated with their ancestor burns true within their hearts, and ire comes more easily to them than to other Elves. Grudges and feuds are seldom left unpunished when slight (perceived or true) has been done upon them- though these resolutions may come many generations later. Some who bear the blood are by this virtue grim, and even dark-hearted- but most tend towards a nobility of spirit, and do no evil. The Forges of the Almenodrim Of all the families of Elvendom the forge-craft of House Sylvaeri may be considered chiefest and greatest; by virtue of their friendships with the Dwarves they long ago grew wiser in the lores of metals and gems, and developed their own styles to better suit their Elven natures. Therefore the steel wrought of their forges is considered to be among the best in the world, and is prominently reinforced with woven natural magics and other, more secret arts which are taught only to few. The Oath of the Seven and Bloodsilver Rings There are few customs which define the House of Sylvaen more clearly than the Oath of the Seven, which is sworn by all of-age members and is considered the rite of passage for young Elves. The Oath, and the accompanying tradition of forging rings made with the blood of the oathkeeper, find their roots in the establishment of the House by the Seven Sons of Sylvaen. This tale, and its meaning, is fully told in the Tale of Dagnir, which is a constituent part of the Lay of Aegrothond. Symbols and Banners Most prominently featured upon the crimson banner of the House are the hammer and anvil of Sylvaen, which are set below a crown; the latter represents the Crown of Malinor, which was worn by their ancestor Eleron, last royarch of that fallen Princedom. The seven stars which flank the arms are of the constellation Narnir’vallei, which is known in Common Speech as ‘The Mariner’. It is beloved of the House, and the grouping can often be found in their works, and even sewn upon their garments. The use of the arms follows the practice of a quintessentially Elven form of feudalism; they can be worn by any sworn to the House and honour of Aegrothond, and as such are not reserved solely for the bearers of Sylvaen’s Elder Blood. Heirlooms of the House Due to the rich tradition of forgework kept by the family, the Sylvaeri clan are possessed of a commensurate amount of relics, artifacts, and jewels of rare and unmatched craft and beauty. Most of these were wrought in the old lands of Almenor, but some are more recent- and with few exceptions are associated with great deeds and Elves of yore. The Necklace of Stars Known also as the “Light of the Almenodrim”, the Necklace of Stars is one of the greatest treasures of all Elvendom, and the work of Sylvaen’s own hand. It is set with a great multitude of diamonds and other gems, cut to perfection by the ancient hosts of Aegrothond. It bore for a time one of the Crown Stones, taken from the circlet of Malin. Belethil- The Star of Morning A gem crafted by the hands of ancient Dwarves, Belethil is steeped in the traditions of Malinor, and greatly treasured. It was lost when Sylvaen cast himself into the sea, and none have seen it since. At times, when the moon is high, it is said that the path which it traces upon the surface of the ocean will lead a traveler to Belethil’s resting-place. The Crown of Storms A younger artifact than the first few, the Crown of Storms is representative of the later deeds of the Almenodrim- most specifically of Aegnor Starfinder and his descendants who dwelt upon the shores of the Sea (and for whom it was made). Though the Crown itself has been lost to time, it was fabled to render unto the wearer the wisdom of the ancient mariners- to render them safe from the furies of the storm, and even to prevent drowning. Whether these tales are true or not, is entirely unknown.
  4. Edrahil and the Dragon Which is the third part of the Lay of Aegrothond, in which the deeds of Edrahil are told. In the elder ages of the world, when the Sun and Moon were bright and untarnished by years uncounted, a fair realm was spread between the mountains and the sea. In those days the paths of the Elves were greatly sundered and broken, and not least of all these rifts was the breaking of faith between the Almenodrim and the Crown of Malinor, of which the Song of Dagnir tells. By this virtue most who departed Tavule had come to follow the Great Houses, which had come together in order for to be known as the wider realm of Aegrothond. For a time they were guided by Sylvaen the Everflame, of whom many a tale is told- but by the time of this telling he had passed into oblivion, and led no longer. Now Prince Aegnor the Starfinder ruled over the holdfasts which had been his father’s, and he took upon his own shoulders the mantle of Lordship of the Almenodrim and the stewardship of the land and the people. Six brothers remained to him, left over from exodus- and each was possessed of a craft and mastery so that their holdfast flourished and grew. Thus they together spread their princely wisdom, and all the lands were glad for it. One among them was foremost in martial skill and ability, and it is he that will feature most prominently in this tale.Lord Edrahil was his name, which is well-remembered, and he was the fourth son of Sylvaen. Great faith he kept in the Oath of his House, and a will indomitable to purge the darkness from the fouler places of the world; to this end he traveled often beyond the far bounds of the realm of the Almenodrim, to seek out all evils and break them beneath the power of his bright will. Thusly were the lands of the Elves kept safe from harm, to grow and be fruitful. Now in the northern mountains in those years the dwarf-manses were in constant strife with all manner of dark creatures which grew and multiplied, having been left behind by the wraths of Iblees and other, older evils which have no name. Chiefest among these at that time was the wyrm Ankar, which had fled to those parts after the first breaking of the Deceiver. From the high peaks this beast commonly ventured to terrorize the peaceful Dwarves- a terrible wrath incarnate, borne upon a sudden wind and a gout of freezing breath. Ere long it came to be that the wyrm’s hunger was not sated with dwarf-flesh and gold, and it began to hunger for the far sweeter meats of the south. The first settlement beneath his wrath was called Myrdaen, a village known for its refining of fine wool and ornamented cloths of all kinds. It came like a cold wind from the north, and tore the land asunder- feasting upon the sheep and cattle, and driving aside the stones of Elvish buildings with brutal force. Of all who dwelt there, few survived- and in great clamour the Lord himself was felled by the snapping jaws of darkness incarnate. Some managed to escape, and hastened to the shores of the Sea where the Court of Prince Aegnor was held. There the beleagured Elves made their plea, and were received in dour mood by the Prince and his lordly brothers. So it came to pass that Edrahil heard of this grey terror of the high mountains, and his mind at once was set with fateful purpose. “By what right doth Ankar claim the mastery of the skies, who was made in mockery of Creation?” he cried aloud, and his eyes shone with a sudden flame. “Too long have we allowed this danger to play upon our borders, and done nothing! Give me leave, brother, and swiftly shall Ankar’s monstrous head adorn your mantel-piece.” And his Company of friends struck their spears against their shields twice with great clamour, calling their assent. But Prince Aegnor sat a while in deep thought, causing even the rowdiest Elves of the Court to fall silent. “Cheaply valued is thy own life, brother, and the lives of thy Company,” he spoke at last, and his eyes grew dark with foretold doom. “Great danger lies upon the paths of the northern mountains, and small comfort will pride be to thy widows if thou art slain in pursuit of this beast. If thy hearts do not know fear, let them at least know wisdom. Death and grim fate shalt thou find in the North, and naught more.” All eyes were upon Edrahil then, who was silent, his eyes aglow behind his golden mask. But it was Erendriel the Bard who spoke, and stood forward from the other nobles with hand upturned- whereupon glimmered the ring of blood-silver, bound and sealed with the Oath of Seven. “Hearken to the rings of our brotherhood, if thou shalt not hearken to the pride of thy brother! For we are not of those who step back from perdition, and stand idly by, while brother-Elves are so cruelly put upon.” And the Prince was given pause, saying- “Rightly dost thou speak, Erendriel, though calamitous doom of one kind or another I presage of you. Wyrms do not tire easily of Elven silver, or turn away from simple cruelty.” Then he stood, and upon his brow the flames of the Seastone Crown glimmered with a ruddy light. “Go forth, then, ye twelve Companions, and as a token of hope take with you the Helm of our Father, who is perished.” And Edrahil received the Helm, and bowed deeply, for it was a high gift. Within the fortnight he set out north, and thusly began the great quest from the citadel of Tamun. Here it will be noted that this citadel was at the very edge of the realm of Old Aegrothond- that is to say, at the juncture shared by the mountains and the lowlands which swept down towards the Great Sea. This was because the Almenodrim (and indeed most Descendant Peoples of that time) kept to the ancient laws set forth by the Four Brothers, who demarcated all the lands of creation for their descendants. Therefore Men were granted dominion over the plains, Orcs over the deserts, Dwarves over the high mountains, and Elves over the broad forested lands wherever they may be found. In keeping with this practice Tamun was raised upon a wooded foothill, not far from the true mountains of the dwarrows, and served as a border-fort for general purposes. In any case, as the northernmost fortress it had been first to receive news of Ankar’s attack on Myrdaen, and thus the mood was high when the crimson banner of Edrahil was seen approaching from the south. Twelve there were in total, alongside their Lord- the aforementioned Company of heroes, and Erendriel the Bard who chose to ride with them. Hardy Elves were they, who had seen many a trial in their time and had sailed west with the Seven when the call was sounded. They had participated in the wars of the old homeland, and knew well the sting of dragon-breath. The keepers of Tamun received them gladly, and informed them of the state of the Northlands. In the time of their marching it seems the wyrm had grown bolder, so that even the fortified cities were no longer safe, and feared him. But Edrahil only smiled, and called for more mead, saying: “It is he who should be trembling, good Elves. Soon, we shall make a fine powder of his ancient bones.” And so it was that the final night in warmth was passed, and there was little trepidation (far less, as you shall soon see, than there should have been.) The dew lay heavily upon the path into the Vale of Tamun as the Company of Edrahil set out, and clung to their scarlet cloaks in silvery droplets which shone in the morning sun like so many stars in a crimson firmament. Well-armed and armoured they were, for each among them bore a sword and a spear, and a shield rendered by the highest arts of the Almenodrim. Upon their faces were fearsome mask-helms of gilded steel, but beneath them the Elves smiled and were merry- for Edrahil led them whom they trusted, and Erendriel seldom ceased to sing and jest. “A score of red-breasted robin-fowl we look!” he laughed in melody, and the songbirds sang along with him in lilting tones. “To pluck the worm from the northern mountains, hear hear!” And a great shout of mirth and joy rose among the Company in march, for they did not know fear. Edrahil ordered then the banner to be lifted, and together the voices of the Elves rang farewell in ancient song as the town sank into the hills behind them. “Again they come, and swift they ride, “For Elvenesse, for Elvenesse!” Their voices rise with ringing pride. And trumpets high above them soar, for elder fathers, dispossessed for many kin, who fought and died, And nations torn and rent by war. For fear is foreign to their hearts, and blades with gladness strike and reave, Through forest air grown thick with darts, And long-spears wrought by Elven arts, Which forest-cloth like needle weave.” And so forth they sang in joy beneath their seven-starred banner of scarlet, as the road turned northwards and the foothills began to grow great and dark to either side. Ere long the heads of the mountains became hidden in the clouds, and the forests of Elvenesse gave way to stone and fallen gravel. As the last great tree faded beyond a ridge the group made camp, and settled in for an unhurried sleep. When the sun rose upon the second day the Company of Edrahil set out once more, though they sang less and spoke sparsely to one another; for the path had become difficult, and in places it wavered and fell into sudden crevasses which had doubtless been the death of many a reckless explorer. All about the road were tall crags of grey stone, interspaced atimes by small springs of clear water too cold for drinking- they had flowed down from the glaciers which crowned these mountains, too high above to be seen. The band stopped for short luncheon at noon, having brought with them a wealth of provision from the grateful Elves of Tamun, and set up a way-camp to rest their weary feet. Some jested that they hoped that the greater part of the journey was finished, but most remained silent- marveling at the broad tallness which was arranged about their fellows. So it was that one of them spotted a small creature crawling upon the rocks far below, which were woven with mists. He called to his companions, and Erendriel nocked a swift arrow in his heartwood bow. “Hark!” the Lord Edrahil cried into the abyss, and the astute Elven eyes of the Company discerned that the creature was in fact a particularly hairy dwarrow of auburn mane and pale complexion. “What business have ye here, in the lands between the forest and the mountain?” But the Dwarf did not reply, instead waving his short arms and swiftly scurrying from sight.“How odd,” remarked Edrahil, “I did not recall the Dwarves to be so fearful of Elves, especially in these parts. I wonder what it was that caused him to flee?” But no sooner had the Lord spoken, than a warbling cry pierced the air alongside many black-hafted arrows. [To be Continued]
  5. The Tale of Dagnir Which is the first part of the Lay of Aegrothond, and the earliest story of the Almenodrim. Among the tales of sorrow and ruin which come to us out of the elsewise forgotten years before the rising of the Moon, there are yet some in which the eldritch dolour is lifted, and a light is shown to endure even beneath its gloaming shadow. Of these histories perhaps the most stark is that of Sylvaen, and of the Almenodrim who were his progeny. It is told fully in the Lay of Aegrothond, the longest of all Elvish ballad-poems, which concerns in its majority the Parting of Kindreds and the many deeds, both fair and ill, of that family in the First Ages of the world. It is retold here in prose to lessen its length, for alike to all Elvish poetry it is prone to elaborate musings which are not conducive to the educational purposes of this text. The Lay begins in the ancient land of Malinor, wherein the great Eternal King kept his court and dwelt undying beneath evergreen boughs of yore; Malin was his name, which is honoured forever, and upon his brow was a crown unquestioned. His sons were as one, their ways unparted, for neither false prophets nor forces of earth and heaven could dislodge the keeping of blood which bound them hence. They loved well the trees and valleys of their realms, and delved in the deepest reaches of the forest to build their villages, being foremost among woodsmen. Among them, firstborn of the Father, walked Sylvaen Everflame, of whom this tale is told. He was tall, and fair of face, and resembled in all ways his father save for his locks, which were of raven-dark hue, and for his gaze, which was of piercing grey akin to the sea-floes of ice in winter. While his kin walked the deep forests he took a different path, and instead traveled to far western reaches of the Kingdom, near-to the mountains which held some erstwhile manses of the young Dwarves. In that land he built his holding, which he named Almenor, and few citadels were fairer in that time, or in any time since. In that place of silver fountains he came to know Serinwe, who would come to be his wife- and together they reared the Seven Sons of oath and legend, who led their people to glory and tribulation in equal measure. Their names were Aegnor, Edrahil, Renarion, Muindir his twin, Ilurien, Vitras, and Erendriel who was youngest of all; and they themselves were fruitful, so that the pillared halls of their kin rang with the laughter of children which the Elves valued more highly than any treasure. This great family was known as the Almenodrim, and they are remembered thusly in many songs, most chiefly by their own descendants. In the days before the Curse they were greatly peopled, so that several distinct Houses sprung up among them- but each bore loyalty to the Everflame and wavered not from their path alongside the Seven, throughout all of their history. Of all the children of Malin Sylvaen was the greatest in forgecraft, and in the tempering of steel and the making of mail he and his descendants were never outmatched, save perhaps by the most great-skilled of the Dwarf-smiths of yore. The hauberks and plate of their forges did not rust, and did not sustain the tarnish of age and weather, shining new-burnished even after an age of wear. All of their works were highly treasured, for they were crafted with arts which were not known to other wrights, and have been forgotten. It must, too, be noted that steel was scarce more than a servant to them- and it was in the working of silver, gold, and precious gems that they truly excelled, ultimately peerless. Made in those elder days were some of the greatest and most beautiful treasures of all noble Elvendom, which were beloved of all the Elder Folk and held in regard even in the furthest reaches of the continent. Among them were the Necklace of Stars, and Mίr n’Ardhon, and of course the great carved gem Belethil which was lost, of which more shall be told in other tales. All which could be wrought by hammer and anvil they excelled in creating- but no weapons, for the sons of Malin had no need for them, save of course for spears of alder and bows of yew, which they used to hunt wild game. In those days there was no strife, and all Elvenkind dwelt in harmony and peace. But even as Sylvaen and the Almenodrim laboured with great zeal and saw no ending to their works, doom of an eldritch sort came to the halls of Almenor. It began, as such things are often wont to, with a falling star, which tore the heavens and fell burning from the firmament. A clash like thunder heralded its coming to the plane of Aos, and a great fire and clamour levelled the forest about its landing- for such was its heat in that time that all which came in contact with it was immolated entirely. With a roar of splitting earth a chasm was opened about it in that wilderness, and there it would have remained if not for the curious whim of fate. It was Aegnor who found it, riding upon the great northern hills with his banners- and ever after for this reason he was oft-called by the name Elpharon, which means ‘star-finder’. Marveling at the desolation, he delved into the blackened cavern at its center- and though it burned his hands, he could not find the will to leave the glede-star behind. All marveled at it, and at its providence, for even the most experienced among them had not seen such ore. Concluding their businesses in those lands the Almenodrim brought it to their home, and though none could foresee it, sealed the fate of their House. For upon that metal lingered an evil which had no name, born of the darkness and vapour of primordial creation and forgotten by Gods and mortals both. At that time Sylvaen, being come to his full mastery and eminence, was filled with new intent and purpose- and growing bored in his lordship over forgecraft the great wright took great interest in the star-iron discovered by his eldest son. Many months after its arrival the metal did not lose its immense heat, and would burn those who laid hand upon it; Aegnor had failed to tame it, and it had scarred the reach of Muindir who was Sylvaen’s most promising student. So it was that at long last the father of the Seven came first to behold this curse of his family, and resolved to make something of it forthwith. But as he took up his hammer to strike upon the ore the smith beheld a great darkness which descended upon the great fires of his forge, alike unto a black grip which sought to take him in vice. And it spoke to him, this being, in a voice alien as the rubbing of coke on steel. “I have seen thee, Everflame, and all thy purposes and works are laid bare before me- but I deem them to be lesser far than those of thy Father, who is Malin. You shall fade, as leaves of autumn in the winter wind, and none shall know thy small name in posterity. As paupers thy sons will be, and grim fate shall find each among them in his time.” And the elf-prince was stricken by sudden doubt, for in his heart stirred a fear which had not been known to any in those blessed years; it was an evil not of this world, but rather of the one which had come before, and was never meant to linger. “By what vile sorceries dost thou speak unto me, creature of darkness, and what false poison dost thou pour upon my mind?” he cried out, and stepped back from the forge-fire which burned not yet so hot as the metal before him. “In skill of hand I have no single peer- all shall remember my works, and those of my sons, who shall be lords when I am gone.” But despite his remonstrance the creature of gloaming had seized upon the core weakness of his being, for though Sylvaen was foremost in cleverness and craft, his brilliant mind of metal and stone had become flawed in its vainglory, and in the obsession with legacy which was to haunt his line forever. “Stay thy despair, my child- for I sense a greatness in thy blood which shall surpass thy brethren,” the fallen star whispered, in tones of dulcet, layered upon with the cloy of paternal sweetness. “I will show thee much of that which thou knowest not, and change the path thou treadst- for great wisdom I see in thee, and a great promise also, which shall change the doom of the world in its stride. In my image thou shalt shape what none hath shaped before, and all shall know thy will, and fear it.” And though Sylvaen was not yet won over, his mind was curious- as all wrights he wished primarily to expand his art, and to craft ever-greater things until he had exhausted all possibilities of matter and shape. It occurred to him that to bind this star to his will would be the greatest achievement of his time, and a fine treasure in the vaults of Almenor; no creation had yet been beyond his ability in all his life, and no metal could give him pause at the height of his expertise. So it was that a fateful artificery began, which would last many days and many nights. Three times the smith began his work, and three times the metal defied his expert hand- for the spirit which perched upon it was possessed of its own design, and did not lend itself to mastery. For many hours they strove in the deeps of the Almenodrin forges, until the anvil of the wright glowed hot, and the smith himself was nearto spent. At last, putting forth all his lores and knowledge, the Everflame made corporeal the doom of his House- but it was not of his design, and the great shadow was upon it. So it came to pass that the first sword was born, and the Gods wept, for in the hand of Sylvaen it was destined to cause great pain and strife. The visage of the blade was as wrought iron, black and cruelly sharp, and it shone with a dull polish which caught and twisted the faces of those who would look into its surface; its guard was alike unto an umbel of upthrust thorns, and its hilt bound in pallid corded wire. Dagnir was its name, which was given to it by its creator, and harshly indeed did he lament its making; deep into Almenor he bade it be taken, and set inside a dark chamber to which no elf went willingly. And there Dagnir lingered, awaiting its fate. Sylvaen and the Seven soon forgot the star-stone in its entirety, and returned to their works of art and craft, growing more fruitful even than they had before. In those days the halls of Almenor were second only to the capital in populace, and greatly rich also, for they continued to trade with the Men and Dwarves who dwelt beyond the borders of the Greenwood. But the peaceful days of the First Ages were swiftly drawing to a close; and darkness festered in the far deeps of the world, marked by none save the delving Dwarrow-kind, who could not comprehend it. For Iblees’ work upon the Nether had been done, and the days trod ever-closer to the great war which would change the course of history forever. [To be Continued]
  6. Pour one out for Elvenesse

    1. Lackless_

      Lackless_

      u know what u did misterbonez

    2. Fid

      Fid

      he’s dead, jim

  7. ========================================= Name of the Treaty: The Elder Alliance ========================================= Type of Treaty: [Alliance] ========================================= [Nation] [Name: The Kingdom of the Dominion of Elvenesse] [Nation] [Name: Dual Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska] [Freebuild] [Name: The Kingdom of Ord] [Freebuild] [Name: The Temple of Az’Adar] ========================================= Date of Signing: 9th of Snow's Maiden, 1679 ========================================= ~= The Elder Alliance =~ “And in days of far yore, which are all but forgotten in these latter ages of the world, the Dwarves and Elves laid mighty spells between their Kingdoms of Mountain and Wood; their ways were unparted, and the bond of friendship they shared was unbreakable in its entirety. When the Old Princedom fell, only the Grand Kingdom marched to aid it; and now, so many centuries and a world apart… I say unto you: ‘Urguan, we are here. We remember!’” The Kingdom of Elvenesse and the Dual-Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska hereby recognize the conglomerated Kingdom of Ord and Temple of Az’adar as the true and only representatives of moral Dwarvendom upon Atlas, and recognize also their unilateral claim as inheritors of the legacy of the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, which has been lost. The undersigned hail Darek I Hammerfist as the true and only King Beneath the Mountains, the sole master of the Obsidian Throne, and Lord of all Dwarves- from this day, until the day he passes unto Kaz a’Dentrumm or chooses to yield the seat to the assembly of free Dwarves, as was the fashion of the Grand Kingdom of yore. The undersigned denounce forthwith the traitorous Kingdom of Kaz’Ulrah, born of kinslaying and murder- and oath that they shall not rest until the banners of the Azwyrtrumm are torn and bloodied beneath the bright sun of Urguan born anew. The hordes of Haense are unleashed, the emerald banners of greater Elvendom fly, and all righteous Dwarves march in lines to war. The terms, as agreed upon by the undersigned, are as follows: The Kingdom of Elvenesse, the Dual-Monarchy of Hanseti-Ruska, the Temple of Az’adar, and the Kingdom of Ord shall assist each other against any foe who deigns to usurp the total sovereignty of their lands, or to cast them into ruin for any reason. The Kingdom of Elvenesse and the Dual-Monarchy of Hanseti-Ruska shall assist the Kingdom of Ord and the Temple of Az’adar in their efforts to regain their rightful home, and restore the Grand Kingdom of Urguan. The aforementioned Kingdom of Elvenesse and the reformed Grand Kingdom of Urguan shall progress upon the achievement of their goal into a post-bellum pact of non-aggression, to ensure a great and lasting peace. Haense, and the Empire of Man of which it is a part, will be invited cordially to join this agreement. The Kingdom of Ord shall attain upon victory the citadel of Kaz’Ulrah, taking it for their seat upon Atlas, as well as the valley of the White Alps in which the city stands. The Kingdom of Elvenesse shall attain all lands south to the White Alps. Signed, Prince Belestram Sylvaeri, Lord Ambassador on behalf of His Eminence the Elvenking Abelas Sa’roir Caerme’onn; Crown Royarch of United Elvenesse and Sovereign Lord of the Woodland Realms, Defender of the Loftywoods, Barrowlands, and Grove. Inheritor likewise of the Exalted Legacy of Old Normandor, Leumalin and Luminaire. Shepherd of the Elder Blood; True and Rightful Lord of the Fae, and Chosen of the Aspects. His Majesty the King Sigmar I of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Prince of Dules, Lahy, Sorbesborg and Slesvik, Grand Duke of Vanderfell, Duke of Akovia, Krajia and Aldersburg, Margrave of Rothswald, Count of Karikhov, Baranya, Kavat, Karovia, Torun, and Kaunas, Viscount of Alamar, Baron of Vsenk, Valwyk, Rorastig, Esenstadt, Krepost and Kralta, Lord of the Westfolk, Lord of Markev, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera. His Honour the King Darek Hammerfist, Royarch of Mighty Ord, True Heir to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan and Ruler of Honourable Dwarvendom upon Atlas. Master of the Hammers, Clan Father of Clan Hammerfist. Arch-Runelord Zahrer Irongrinder, Lord Of The Temple of Az’Adar, Arch-Runelord of The Grand Kingdom of Urguan and The Khaz'Lordak, Master of the Kal'Varak, Lord of The Citadel, Jarnstrand, Kjellingrad, Khaz'Varekan, and the Westmarch, Hero of the Brathmordakin, Father of Clan Irongrinder, Arbiter of The Age of Industry, Slayer of Setherian and The Dharok, Former Grand King of The Grand Kingdom of Urguan.
  8. Happy birthday Epicbeast

  9. Fid

    crystal9190

    Changed Status to Accepted Your application is I'd like to welcome you to the server on behalf of the Application Team and the LoTC Community! You should be implemented shortly.
  10. Fid

    Smoghorn

    Changed Status to Accepted Your application is I'd like to welcome you to the server on behalf of the Application Team and the LoTC Community! You should be implemented shortly.
  11. Fid

    Smoghorn

    Changed Status to Under Review
  12. Fid

    crystal9190

    Changed Status to Pending Your application is Despite a similar name, Lord of the Craft has no affiliation or shared lore with the works of J.R.R. Tolkien- Middle Earth is therefore not an accepted location and shouldn't be used as part of your character's back-story. This is a very minor change, which can be made via the 'Edit' option near the bottom of your post. You have 24 hours in which to make the requested changes. If the changes are not made, your application will be Denied. If you have any questions regarding the verdict on this application, the server's lore, or the beginning of your LoTC experience, please feel free to contact me via Discord (@Fidel#8253), a PM on these forums, or in-game. My Minecraft usernames are _Fid_ and 3quinox_. The Application Team also hosts a New Player Help Discord (https://discord.gg/eySYjqw) if you are interested in hearing from our team members and established players to receive help with the application process.
  13. Fid

    crystal9190

    Changed Status to Under Review
  14. Fid

    crystal9190

    Changed Status to Denied
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