excited

Cato Perea smiles the sun's smile. He lay some roses on his great-great-great grandfather Arpad Ivanovich's shrine.

Derva and Yil'Irfan ! I remember haha

[3:50 PM] [3:50 PM] L

This is my private friend chat where we played games and ****. It's where me, Pundi, and the other writers who made the thread that launched yesterday spoke and then coordinated the thread to bring attention to the problem over the course of the last four days. Treshure was in there too, lmfao. Keep reaching though.

Yeah, think it's messed up somebody would leak information pertaining to a private safety report written by a few members in that chat would be leaked so that you guys could have a couple of laughs at Grimreaper's expense. That's not fair to the victim for whom my friends wrote the report, and not kind to Reaper whose quote is being used out of context to badger him right as justice was finally delivered by the Administration.

You're posting those out of context. Kowaman did not see it, at best Joel did, and Joel never saw the full contents of the discussion and the evidence.

Thank you Kowaman.

Dude, Muir Woods are ******* insane - the redwood trees for instance. I grew up in NorCal and it's one of my fondest memories going there with my family.

Yo Gaius 1. What advice do you have for aspiring writers? 2. How do you advise people play the game? 3. What do you feel LoTC currently lacks? 4. What is your most nostalgic memory? Apart from giving everyone on Anthos 1 million minas via Radical Wealth Redistribution.

Bhased

if you want to be an azdrazi herald hmu at Els#3871

Beat me to it

A ancient monstrosity dormant within the caverns of Savoy let out a soft rumble, its body shifting - the titan awakening and then rising to its feet. The beast's crimson-tinted scales shimmered thickly against its musculature; the tall and armored figure - the predecessor, the first-born, arose from the depths. The white war paint of Tor Azdraeth adorned the creature's brow-ridge, the thick and protruding jawline of the beastial man gnashing its molars. "Slumbered only to see the Flight go a wayward path. Obsolete, no purpose for existence, laden with the fruits of labor that was not theirs. Those true to the cause of dragons shall sally forth, those who sit upon ill-earned fruits earned at the expense of my own fortunes, however... I need not say it further. Statues shall adorn my hoard soon."

ik you've wanted to go for months, be free welcome to the Retirement Club with me, rift, and kai and witch ;) a gang sign is written in chicken scratch at the bottom !_!

Alistair smiled Savoyardly. (For your reading pleasure, cuz the LoTC forums are kinda scuffed, I'll leave a Google Doc with it formatted correctly. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1imgdkUPrO8hSOMCTzt95dCbmrjT7qmcU3Ra9zh-5F2Q/edit?usp=sharing)

A figure in a skeletal helmet, the remains of a bygone era, took time to consider the words of each statement. "Fools all. Death creeps, widows weep, and the trees sing their soft lullabies. Of death, emancipation, decay. Portentous, ebbing decadence." With a laugh that sounded like the rattling of a metal cage, the tall figure bounded along the beaten path. A path trodden for centuries from nation to nation, from slavery to emancipation. "The trees do sing to me. Goodbye, Elf-kin. Kill one another as always. An Eleventh Empire, another Interstice; where irregular meets the mundane, where men and women die and their souls move on and their bodies become mulch. Such is the way for all who play this trifling game." With his mad monologue at an end, Kairn sat beneath a great bough and smoked his cactus green cigar.

Kairn frowns immensely upon reading the news and then takes to cutting off the thatch head of a practice dummy in his yard in a moment of rage. The city would have disappeared anyway, he thought. How could his friend have done this? Consumed by grief, he continued his life in self-imposed exile far, far away.

Somewhere, Kairn Calithil smiles the sun’s smile.

Kairn remarked, "And I would gladly do it again."

The One-Eyed Coyote grinned toothily.

The King, The Usurper, The Traitor “Maybe you who condemn me are in greater fear than I who am condemned.” The maroon citadel screamed as many men climbed down from the portcullis to the top of the building. The men and women were adorned in no colors, garbed in black clothes and dark grey platemail. The force was composed of conscripts from a foreign land, elves who had turned their sights to the traitors within the throne room. Within the mind of Kairn the Usurper, the crimes of the Red Coyotes remained deeply embedded in his mind. He had been forced to come here and destroy them not because of a favor asked by a friend. It was to honor his fallen son whose justice always felt lacking. Yes, the men and women inhabiting Elvenesse were somewhat liable. But they had made peace many long years ago after a tumultuous war that saw the return of the Avchirran - the Wandering Wolves - a remnant order of powerful Elven soldiers who were the veterans of many wars. Raymond, Kairn, and Avaeramos entered the throne room with their soldiers to their backs. Closeby, the scion of Savoie lay in wait and readied himself for the bloodletting that was to come with his son and retinue. Allies for centuries, since the duel between Kairn Calithil and Olivier de Savoie three centuries ago. “No stop! They’re children!” A woman shouted in terror before Kairn and Avaeramos struck down her relative. Kairn had smiled at her with no mirth in his eyes after lifting his visor. Minutes before, he had remarked. “And you shall join her someday too. You all will.” “Let her go! You only want Tahlia!” The bodies hit the floor with a soft kathunk. Bolts littered many individuals who had been put to death on the spot and the aged soldier turned. Images flashed through his mind quicker than he could hope to process and he could smell that refreshing scent of iron and sulfur in the air. He remembered the Siege of Barrowyck, he remembered the scent of burning flesh as a dock marble white burned. The Usurper sneered and then in tandem with Avaeramos decapitated a woman upon the steps. Her head rolled down slackly, much as many others had before him in the elf’s long life. To the side of him, Olivier Helane, the Inquisitor Eternal of Azdromoth cut down two elven women who were thought complicit in the attempted seizure of the throne of Elvenesse. He laughed maniacally beneath his helmet, his fangs tense as he looked down at their bodies without mercy. Interloper, he thought to himself. Look at you, as you have come before me. You took my heir. And you laugh about it behind closed doors. I will take you all. The voice of the Lord of Savoy echoed out as a woman ran. “Two birds with one stone!” He laughed. “Kill them all!” rattled the Avchirran in a boom. Kairn turned and almost lost himself. He knew if he let his hand fly, the woman and her child would die. His soul burned with the rage of twenty-years of pain and yet he managed to stay in his hand. There would be time to slay her after she gave birth. Perhaps he could steal her child and raise it himself to rinse their pathetic bloodline and bring it under his demesne. The marching continued now as the Wandering Wolves brought out their hatchets and rendered the wood apart. They cast their bottles of alcohol and torches out and steered clear to watch the chaos reign. It would not be long before all those who had been complicit in the murder of Vulen Calithil were brought to justice once more. As the docks burned in the background, The Usurper smiled and those senses of a bygone era returned to him. Crucified men and women, burning flesh, and the scent of falling timbers. He watched too as thick ropes yanked down their totem and he stepped along those ruinous docks to saddle his horse and leave with his men.

Ilya smiles at the reconstruction of the abbey.

((Oh why's that posted here?))