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Event Team Manager
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About Xarkly

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    Shop Owner
  • Birthday 05/02/1998

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    Conor #8203
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    Tíocfidh ár lá.

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    a loyal orenian patriot
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  1. Xarkly

    Quick Vaeyl PSA

    Hey so just a real quick update regarding the activity of Vaeyl eventlines: As some of you will have noticed, and I should have posted this earlier, the eventline has been mostly paused for the Christmas break. It’s the busiest time of year for me, since I work over Christmas and college has exams through most of January. So come February the Vaeyl eventline will resume in full force with the blizzard, the fall of Lasthope and what lies beyond that Wall yada yada. So just hold off ‘till February if you’ve been waiting for me to hop online to get some events done. Sorry for the delay, stay tuned
  2. Xarkly

    [Accepted] Unwillingly's Event Team Actor application

    I spent 4 minutes removing your pex that's time I'm never getting back
  3. Application placed on pending. Your scenarios are a little flat. What’s the slimey undead creature? Why’s it in the well? What’s the dark stone given at the roadside? What’s the dark creature in the forest? You don’t need to give a full script here, but you shouldn’t maintain mystery for the sake of it here – we want to see what you, as a potential ET, are thinking and planning when you’re writing these events, so you should really flesh these out more. You’ll get a verdict soon.
  4. Xarkly

    [Pending]Dardonas's Event Team Actor application

    Pending. Decent application. We’ll be in touch soon.
  5. Xarkly

    [Pending]Jucktros's Event Team Actor application

    Events are a little lacklustre. The bandit one seems a little two-dimensional, the merchant seems to refer to a nebula of events that you’d really need to give some more details on, and while the third is a simple straightforward hunt, it doesn't really prove yourself above other ET. Bear in mind that with these apps were looking to see you show potential for doing unique and engaging events. Granted you’d got a history in the ET that’ll do you well, though your application isn’t outstanding. We’ll get back to you soon.
  6. Xarkly

    [Denied] [Pending]Dingo looks to train small green men

    Interesting idea that I’d like to try out. I’m no longer Director despite my tag but I’ll recommend you to the new one.
  7. Xarkly

    [Pending]HortonHeardAWho's Event Team Actor application

    For your scenarios you need to give a bit more structure and ideally variation, like what can happen in the event, how people interact with them, etc. You’re giving us base concepts here without applying them in an event scenario like you need to. That said I know you're a decent dude so I’ll recommend you to Treaty.
  8. Xarkly

    A Commander's Sacrifice

    “Well. I suppose it was a success, then.” Stood atop the enormity of the Ice Wall itself, Serris of Deep Harbour’s words rang hollow in her own ears. She was only dimly aware of the powerful shriek of the wind as it attempted to pull her to her death, though her sole attention was on a blurred cluster of lights, far below her. She had to squint through the flurried veil of falling snow even to make out the vague silhouette of Lasthope’s towers. She did not really need to see, though – she could imagine the scene perfectly well. Even over the howl of the wind she could hear the din of cheers as the Descendant armies celebrated their victory. Apparent victory, a voice in her head corrected, and she grit her teeth. She could not help. Every time thoughts of the Battle of Lasthope entered her mind, she could not help but remind herself that the Descendant’s only thought this was a grand, final victory for them. She would have liked to pretend that she did not know why she kept having to tell herself that, but that would have been a lie. She knew full well. She knew full well that she told herself that because otherwise she would not be able to live with herself. So many Vaeyl dead, sacrificed, in the name of a greater plan. Toryff, Hythar, Yvn ... all dead, now. Yvn especially pained her -- the two of them had been close friends ever since enlisting in the Order, many centuries ago. It was hard to believe that Serris had spoken to Yvn for the final time just minutes before the Descendants began their assault, knowing full well that they would never meet again. ”You can’t hesitate, Serris,” Yvn said. She was one of the only other women in the Order that Serris had not come to resent as soft, yet she spoke with a disarmingly silky voice. “You can’t have second thoughts now.” Serris was stood before a low-burning fireplace. The dying flames and embers danced as warped light on the surface of her burnished bronze mail. She had her longsword in hand, and was unconsciously twisting holes in the floorboards with its sharpened point. “I feel like a coward,” she whispered through a clenched jaw. “You’re not a coward,” Yvn said stiffly, if with a touch of exasperation. It was not the first time the two of them had this conversation since they first formulated their plan for the Siege. Serris knew it would not be the last time these thoughts plagued her mind, either, but it was made worse knowing that Yvn would not be there next time her guilt got the better of her. Yvn would not even be alive. “The plan be damned, Yvn, I am a coward,” she snapped with much vigour than she had intended. “I’m leaving you all behind her to die for a plan that might not even work.” For a brief moment, Serris thought Yvn would answer with sympathy, but instead came fire. “You’re a commander, not a coward.” She barked and marched over to Serris from the other side of the room, the old floorboars creaking under the weight of her heavy snow boots. “And commanders must make sacrifices beyond those of ordinary soldiers. You’re only a coward if you can’t follow through on that.” “That’s not the same at all!” Rage spurning her muscles, she drilled her sword an inch into the floor as she whirled around to face Yvn.”You’re lying down your lives for this plan, while my role is to run! Like a gutless coward, my only task in this plan is to stay alive! While the rest of you ...” ”You misunderstand.” Yvn’s voice had softened so quickly it took Serris by surprise. “It is easier to give up your life for the greater good, rather than have to watch all your brothers and sisters-in-arms die while you must continue forward, and fulfill the duty that the rest of us cannot.” The rage in Serris’ throat began to falter, and she felt a strange tugging at her eyes. It had been many years - decades - since she felt that tug, but she knew full well what it meant. “We can forget the plan. We can hold off the Invaders right here, right now. One quick order to Hythar, and his Stormsingers will strike their siege engines to smoking dust. Then all we have to --“ She cut off when Yvn lay a gauntleted hand on her shoulder. ”Serris,” the other woman said firmly. “You know it has to be this way. We could hold them off, yes, but what then? They’d try again, and again, and we’d be here for years.” ”We’d cripple their army,” she interjected. ”And then what? We march north, and put all their citizens to the sword? Farmers, craftsmen, children?” Yvn shook her head. “It has to be this way. Only by following the plan can we win Atlas back.” ”Win Atlas back for who?” Serris said coarsely. “It will cost so many of our lives to see it done.” Yvn tilted her head inquisitively. “And do you believe any Vaeyl would hesitate to lay down their lives for Atlas? This has been a thousand years in the making, Serris. Do you know what a meaningful death means to our people?” Serris tried to answer, but her throat had gone dry. Yvn squeezed her shoulder. “It was to be this way, Serris. You’re no coward – you’re a commander. Promise me you won’t forget that.” ”I’m no coward,” she whispered as she watched the Descendant armies celebrate at the ruins of Lasthope, breath rising from her helmet as the snowstorm bore down on them. “I’m a commander!” She roared into the wind, before she took off at a march down along the ice wall, the thick, glassy ice firmed by her cleated boots. She did not know how long she walked, but eventually she left the ruins of Lasthope, and the cheers of the enemy army, behind her. She marched, fists clenched, white-fur cloak billowing in the wind behind her. Finally, she spotted figures standing atop the wall in the distance. She continued, placing a fist above her heart. “Peace and Fire,” she bellowed over the gales. “Peace and Fire,” the other figure – a male Vaeyl – responded as she drew nearer. “Did everything go according to plan, Commander Serris?” She glanced over her shoulder, though Lasthope had longed since vanished in the fog of the blizzard. Slowly, she nodded. “Yes. Everything went as planned. It was … it was a bittersweet victory.” But a victory nonetheless. That’s what Yvn would say. The other Vaeyl nodded. “Good. Shall we make for Caer Caedris then? There’s still much to be done.” “Yes. Yes.” It took her a moment, but finally Serris took her gaze from the direction of Lasthope. She was surprised when a painful pang of guilt lanced through her, though only for a moment; she knew this was goodbye. The Red Vaeyl, her friends, her family, were no more, sacrificed for a greater good. I promise. I promise it won’t be in vain. She grit her teeth. “Lead the way.” The other Vaeyl nodded. In the pale light, she could just about make out the unblemished, White Eye painted on his armour.
  9. Xarkly

    The September Prince Eventline

    It’s not being cancelled that’s probably the worst thing you could do with a big eventline The rest of the eventline is being overseen by ET management to make sure there’s no more lore whoopsies and to try make it more broadly enjoyable for those who disliked past installments
  10. Around this time last year, we made the transition from Axios to Atlas and to commemorate that and to make it look like I’m doing something, here’s a contest!!1!!!!!1! Following on with the ideals of our previous contest in that we’re trying to make these more relevant to the LotC universe, the theme of this contest is locations in Atlas. You can interpret that in aaaaany way you like, so like as your entry is even remotely related to any particular location on Atlas. I’ve included a full list of all Atlas’ regions below, but you can be much more specific in the location you chose (so long as you title it in your entry). THE RULES To enter, post on this thread with either your art or writing (no word limit) State clearly the region/place your entry is based off in the title or at the start (full list of regions below) All entries must be original Writing and art entries will be judged as separate categories with 1st. 2nd, and 3rd place prizes available for both categories You're free to enter both categories All entries must be submitted by midnight EST on Sunday the 13th of January The location only has to be a basic inspiration for your entry LIST OF MAIN ATLAS REGIONS (Nation Tiles & Event Regions) The Springhills The Southdowns The Sleetfells The Swaymoors Huckery Highlands The Wonkawoods The Bolemounds The Frozenpines The Loftywoods Shrieking Drake Island The Chalk Alps The Timberwoods The Yatl Wasteland The Mixed Knolls LIST OF LESSER-KNOWN ATLAS TILES The Twin Highlands The Pridelands The Barrowdowns Eastbight Tide Isle The Lobster Isles The Gules Mountains The Lochmoors Hiisht Isle Coral Peak The Serpentwoods The Jade Peaks The Wilderlands If you know a good spot but don’t know it’s name, all you have to do is head over there and type /rg info to find out. Remember that the location only has to be basic inspiration for your entry -- you could write about a whole fight scene that has no real relevance to the region other than that it occurred there, for example. PRIZES 5,000 Mina | Creative Wizard Tag | A Parrot | A signed item related to the location of your entry 3,000 Mina | A Parrot | A signed item related to the location of your entry 2,000 Mina | A signed item related to the location of your entry Unlike last time it’s a little bit unfeasible to include a screenshot of every prize items, but I’ll post a few below to give you an idea: So that’s just a flavour, bearing in mind that each region has its own item, and some of them might be subject to change depending on lore reasons. A quick question, though – is there anyone out there that fancies themselves a bit of composer? It was suggested to me that it might be worthwhile opening up a music category in future competitions, so if your skills are more in that department, post here to let me know how many people could compete in that category. While this is also the anniversary of LotC 6.0, it’s also nearly been a full year since I became ET Director (yikes). In light of that, December’s actually going to be my last month as Director before I hand it off to someone who can do a better job after burnout’s gotten the better of me since college started back up (I’ll remain on the ET, just not as bossman). With that said, best of luck with your entries, looking forward to seeing them.
  11. Since Grim’s post was hidden, do you plan to make a public response to the concerns of the community regarding that eventline?

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Xarkly


      I have no idea why the post was hidden tbh. I’ll make a response at some stage (in an upcoming post, possibly) but you can also PM me on Discord and we can talk about it

    3. Unwillingly


      Targeting a player, most likely.

    4. christhemythical


      On ‎12‎/‎13‎/‎2018 at 9:34 PM, Unwillingly said:

      Targeting a player, most likely.


  12. Xarkly

    Feedback: Events and Lore

    When it comes to eventlines one thing that’s essential is passion ET need to be interested and passionate in what they’re doing in order to make it great Problem is, one of the best sources of passion and interest is that it’s typically your own writing. When it comes to the huge expanse of LOTC lore – well, obviously, it was written by someone else, sometimes a long ago. It can be really really really hard to be passionate about someone else’s writing, which is why I’ve never really looked through LOTC lore – beyond its absolute core foundations – and picked out something to make an event out of. Furthermore, the amount of times certain lore has been rewritten makes it nigh ******* impossible to get a version of it that people are happy with. For example, when I was looking at tying in some Orc lore for Vaeyl, it was an absolute clusterfuck trying to find out the old lore since so many (older) players discredited Smawton’s rewrite as pure fiction that flew in the face of old RP and lore. Example: Atlas had a bunch of lore written for each individual region so that ET could take that lore and do event shite with it. Problem was, each part of lore was written individually by LT, so no matter how nicely it was written, it was all disjointed and made for poor world-building in that it didn’t make Atlas feel like one world, or one story, at all. So I was a dickhead (and I apologize to all the LT who worked on writing that lore) and completely made my own event lore of Atlas history, and without trying to sound too arrogant, I think it made for a much more interesting story of Atlas pre-Descendant arrival. tldr; lore can often be non event-friendly, and ET tend to be much more passionate about their own writing (in my experience)
  13. Xarkly

    The Dragon's Jaws

    The Red Vaeyl gathered in Lasthope’s great hall. All four-hundred-and-thirty-two of them. Packed together between the massive pillars, they formed a wave of black-white plate, their bronze weapons in hand as their white bearskin cloaks draped over their pauldrons. As she approached the balcony that overlooked the horde of Red Vaeyl gathered below, Serris of Deep Harbour had no doubt that her mind was experiencing the exact same thing of each of her Knights. They were thinking back to a time, many many years ago, when Lashope had been nothing more than haphazard scaffolding scaling the enormity of Krug’s Folly; thinking back to a time where they celebrated their victory over Avendal and Tharax and the end of the Dragon War in these halls; thinking back to a time when they had smiled, laughed and danced. There was dead silence as Serris took her place at the balcony, bronze gauntlets resting on the balustrade as the Vaeyl below eyed her silently. That silence seemed to last forever before she forced the words out of her throat, “I know,” she began slowly, “that all of you are tired.” Tired was an understatement; it was all too jarring for a Vaeyl to simply recall the centuries they had endured. “I am tired too. I am tired of fighting. I am tired of having my home taken from me. I am tired of life.” Her words hung heavy in the hall. She knew each of them felt the exact same way. “But that is why,” her voice cracked through the silence like a whip, “we cannot give up. We cannot give up, lest we are lost. We cannot give up, lest we forget how it was us who led the Descendants to victory against the Fallen Daemon. We cannot give up, lest we forget Horen’s betrayal and the Exile of Aeros. We cannot give up, lest we forget the Sacking of Serrimor.” With each word, her tone grew harder, tempered by both white-hot anger and frozen resilience. “We cannot give up! Lest we forget the Dragon War! We cannot give up, lest we forget Yrodholm! We cannot give up! Lest we forget the Black Accord, and the September Prince! We cannot give up!” Some echoed the cry, now. “Lest we forget each drop of blood we've spilled for all Descendants! Lest we forget every time we have died in the name of Atlas and the world, only to be denied the peace of death! WE CANNOT GIVE UP, LEST EVERYTHING WE HAVE DONE IS FORGOTTEN! WE CANNOT GIVE UP!” The hall exploded in lilting shouts as the Red Vaeyl took up the cry. “WE CANNOT GIVE UP!” Despite the noise, the sound of Serris ripping her bronze blade from its sheath sounded like a warhorn. “WE CANNOT GIVE UP, AND SO WE SHALL FIGHT!” She roared, her lungs stinging. “WE SHALL FIGHT FOR SERRIMOR! WE SHALL FIGHT FOR YRODHOLM! WE SHALL FIGHT FOR ATLAS! BUT MOST OF ALL, WE WILL FIGHT FOR OURSELVES! WE WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN, CONDEMNED TO A VILLAIN IN HISTORY, NOT AFTER ALL WE HAVE SACRIFICED! AND SO WE SHALL FIGHT!” More roaring. They might have been chanting, but Serris paid them no heed. She was speaking to herself now as much as any of them. “THE INVADERS BEYOND THESE WALLS ARE BABES WHO CANNOT EVEN COMPREHEND WHAT WE HAVE GIVEN, WHAT WE HAVE ENDURED, WHAT WE HAVE SACRIFICED! THEY HAVE MARCHED INTO THE DRAGON’S JAWS, AND SO SHALL WE SNAP DOWN ON THEM! FOR THEY FIGHT FOR THEIR TWISTED PERCEPTION OF RIGHTEOUS, WHILE WE FIGHT FOR OUR LOST HUMANITY, FOR FAMILIES CENTURIES DEAD, FOR A HOME THRICE LOST!” She raised her sword. The faint pale light of Yatl glimmered on its edge. “WE WILL FIGHT FOR EVERY MOMENT WE HAVE EVER LIVED! CARAI CAS SERRIMOR!” “CARAI CAS VAEYL!”
  14. Xarkly

    Words of Peace

    After the parley between the Red Vaeyl Order and Empire of Man were interrupted, a lone, unarmed Vaeyl approached the palisades of the Crow’s Nest, hailed the guard, and delivered a letter – the parchment already stiff with frost. It held writing in a cursive hand in deep woad ink, but written in the Common language. It read: YOU WILL LIFT YOUR ATTEMPT TO SIEGE LASTHOPE YOU WILL RETURN TO YOUR STOLEN LANDS YOU WILL BE GIVEN TIME TO GATHER THE LAST OF YOUR STOLEN FOOD YOU WILL LEAVE ATLAS IF YOU REFUSE, THE YATL BLIZZARD WILL GROW TO SWALLOW ALL INVADER LANDS. YOU WILL STARVE. YOUR PEOPLE WILL STARVE. YOUR CHILDREN WILL STARVE. IF YOU FIGHT, YOU WILL DIE THE ORDER HAS A WEAPON REMAINING The parchment was stamped with the White Eye slashed with red. It was beneath the stamp that six letters were written in sharp block capitals: T H A R A X
  15. Xarkly

    Final Words

    It had been barely a day since the Imperial forces rallied in the Crow’s Nest, though time was near impossible to keep track of with black snow clouds obscuring the sun at all times. It had been barely a day before the gates of Lasthope opened, admitting a trio, their forms mere shadows in the whipping white winds of the Wasteland. Despite that, the sentries atop the Crow’s Nest had no doubts: they did not need to see to know the three figures were clad in black-and-white mail, a Red Eye on their breast. Black-white cloaks snapping in the wind, their march came to a halt some hundred feet from the walls of the siege camp. Alarmed shouts were muted by the wind as soldiers swarmed to the palisades, watching with chattering teeth as one of the Vaeyl suddenly hoisted a staff. Eyes widened in amazement as the wind and the snow seemed to part in a dome that encompassed the three Vaeyl, and, miraculously, the snow a few feet around them began to melt, until the three Vaeyl stood in a circle of damp grass. Then, calmly, they eased themselves to sit cross-legged on the ground, and waited. The silent message was clear – a parley. A final exchange. Final words.