Ryloth

bruh

based edgy high elf guide skin. throwback

Haskir mulled over the letter as it arrived. In a few moments he drafted a response, and after speaking the name of this faithful squire he sent it off in a miasma of strange magic that shot the paper into the sky on its lonesome. MY FAITHFUL SQUIRE, Lament our plight. Lament this suffering. For it is arduous, for it is long; but short still in the grand scheme. I believe just as many times before this is a test. A test of our honor, our value, our purpose and meaning -- the arduous journey so fickle and so cruel, yet so rewarding and so bitter-sweet in its ultimacy. In its conclusion mine Zeymah, in its end; a new beginning, a grand beginning, born anew like fire to the horizon upon a gentle blue sea. Persevere and seek the future, faithful squire -- persevere and see what comes. I promise you no true end is in sight, and nigh-ever will any of my brethren be staunched in their personal pursuits of what is Asioth. Know who you are, know your purpose -- and all will be right in the world; for it is your world, my world, and our world. FIND ME, ~ H

hit him with the atomic bomb also as cool as elementalism is imo idk if it'll ever come back

i want a lot of things but here we are..

fastest rewrites in the west meanwhile garrett is still 4 years late

most azdrazi already do puffs of smoke from the nose or jaws, heat distortions around their mouth or eyes, unnaturally warm skin, etc but iirc it isnt required. could be tho, kinda like how illusion voidal magic has distortions in any full-body hologram or whatever if it's a big enchant or spell. smoke/heat/distortions are confusable with other magics and/or arent noticeable at all unless closely inspecting, therefore making it the better option to create rp imo idk tho i just think the more subtle magical remnants are better than physically identifiable remnants. requires for people to rp to figure out what they are rather than looking at talons or cuteboy horns or ashy skin and saying "DEEEMOOONNNN!!!!", cus that's what'll happen more often than not. defeats the purpose of polymorphs but i do think perhaps a limitation of 2 or 3 polymorph skins could be done that are attached to a moderation hidden CA, therefore allowing it to be tracked with what they turn into and provides a hard limit. @Milenkhov lets consider for later

don't do this evil to him bro..

it is an addition. only thing it overwrites is a redline stating heralds can only heal heralds. with this lore they can heal azdrazi rather than azdrazi healing themselves

Haskir read over the missive. He had no words. Plucking the Othelu Dollar from his pocket, it shimmered as he turned it over within his palm. A frown settled across his visage before he returned it to its place.

Kha can't be azdrazi as they are not descendants read the lore

Forged in Fire episode 2, The Drakeforge

druids and paladins across the world malding even tho azdrazi got even easier to kill. wait until vehement smithing v2 electric boogaloo

Scrumptious

"Isn't Toffee a girl?" Haskir queries, stupefied. He then begins to wonder if musin have a legal system in Mousehole.

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♭ The Kharajyr Avendal fell to a knee, titan-sword Torva-Oth'zin Al wrapped at the handle by ebon-blue digits nearly as black as the weapon bore. Its fiery end to the floor, he kneeled in reverence of the behemoth of yore cascading broiling smoke and fire through the miasma that was the chasm in which he broke the veil by way of vocale. In the shaking baritone of the room shadowed by the weight of the first-born of materia, he smiled. Serinath was rekindled, he who had once-been Arstan Bedell became who he'd meant to become -- who he'd been before, who he'd now in finality always be; and in thus, the Prophecy of Avarice began anew. Cinders spilled from Avendal's weapon as he rose to hiss into the smoldering air. "Welcome back, Serinath."

Haskir sings a to-ro-ro and a ro-ro-ro for the Imperial State Grenadiers! He smiles for the camera before dialing up @Jentos on his copper-wired landline Novellan Phone. "Jolly old chap my boy Gamling, come on down to the local pub! Drinks on me, my old pal!"

edit: unironically idk why you skipped past matchlocks and went straight to flintlocks; matchlocks are cool as hell and actually have so many environmental factors causing them to fail. you could easily have 5 people speed load a matchlock in an infantry line and all 5 fail loading, or having messed up powder, don't set the match cord correctly, don't set the traypan right, maybe they don't even leave the traypan open outright and forget -- and then the ball even if they succeed to fire doesn't hit the target. also let me add that a lot of battle rifles that were matchlock/flintlock weren't .45 caliber or .50 caliber, they were very large rounded metal balls at .72-.76 caliber and they literally blew off limbs if they hit you right. rifles are stronger, if they got added don't nerf them by turning them into dogwater carbines.

INQUISITOR ETERNAL, Brother mine Eluitholnear, do the heavens weep in the light of prophetical vision. Orisons of fire usher the canticles of times ahead, and we prepare afore the scarlet dawn of war. Much progress has been achieved, though stagnancy is evident. Paramount is the course ahead, and I await your rebirth; anew, and empowered. Land of the Titans, Almaris. Land of the Titan it shall become. TO ELUITHOLNEAR, INQUISITOR ETERNAL; Upon your return, I will bestow unto you my warship Kathivioth, the divine light. SIGNED, H ~

A pantera clad in midnight dragonscaled armor picks up the missive. A would-be claimant of the contract and slayer of the foe, perhaps? "Six-hundred minas?" He scoffs before taking a copy of the missive. "They had better raise the fee to six-thousand." Wondering for a moment how he would deal with the issue at hand, he differed to neatly folding the copy to stow at his beltline. A collection of thoughts swirled within his curious mind as a crisp sunset wind touched his dracanium plates and black-scaled mail, cool and wispy to the touch. With a smile donning his maw he began a trek to some place, some where in search of a dragon knight of renown.

Haskir takes the leaflet dropped from the skies like a propaganda bomb, briefly reading before disposing of the paper waste rudely flowing through the winds like a garbage within Karinah'siol. "Elysium is filled with impure people and half-breeds. I hope no Kha' are there."

A fellow herald mulled over the missive and misspelled name, though recognized it instantly nonetheless. A plethora of thoughts swelled in his mind as he thought back to ill-fated moments with the spoiled-rotten follower, not a single time to his memory positive in any light. "Such a travesty to see the Laraethryn name tarnished so foul, so brazenly in the public." He gazed over the pinned postage, momentarily considering leaving the notice in Haelun'or upon its nail for all to see -- but he instead marked out all that defaced the Titan and the Laraethryn name, instead leaving what portions declared her mali'ata. Haskir strolled away from the post, ebon tail swaying just above the roadway. "I still don't remember to who she is bound by blood."