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NomadGaia

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About NomadGaia

  • Rank
    RIP Awaiti
  • Birthday 03/30/2000

Contact Methods

  • Discord
    Gaia#5196
  • Minecraft Username
    NomadGaia
  • Skype
    Gaia

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Elven Gangs
  • Interests
    I dunno, druidism is pretty cool.

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Valerias | Rori | Asula
  • Character Race
    Wood Elf | Wood Elf | High Elf

Recent Profile Visitors

30904 profile views
  1. Breaking through the sky- Tanila found herself awakened, resting against soft, verdant grasses. Her eyes opened to gentle light that doused her, and slowly, her eyes would adjust to the light. She was nestled firmly in the roots of a great tree, that towered over the lands around it. Its roots enveloped a small island, and she found the world around her filled with the sounds of nature, at peace. Birds sand their song, wind whistled through the branches above her, and a familiar voice hummed a gentle tune nearby. When she looked up, it was the face of Awaiti that greeted her, encircled in the horns of a great ram. The elder would smile, and invite her over. A small pot boiled upon a fire, smelling of sweet berries. "It's so good to see you, dear. Come, sit with me. You can rest now."
  2. if you can't throw em far enough just use one of these bad boys
  3. The Lion nodded briefly, in his home, before beginning to pack his things away. "And so I ride for Elvendom once more. To glory!"
  4. An aheral' looks down upon the missive, paper held between the black leather fingers of her gloves. Slowly, she looked over the page, features unmoving. "Curious," was all she uttered, before carefully folding the parchment, and tucking it into the pocket of her vest.
  5. You know me Zill, but others might not so anywho, I've led the elves and specifically wood elves for a few years, though recently I've taken a backseat to things in lieu of the death of my character, and some other irl issues. I'd add something to this, as I think it oversimplifies things a bit too far. The problem isn't necessarily always ambition, but it's often the fact that most people are unwilling, or unable to compromise with each other. I've noticed this pattern far too many times in the elven playerbase. It often begins with a perceived slight, or something more direct. Maybe someone said something that clashed with you in a meeting or something, it could be anything, really. But these feelings tend to bubble beneath the surface, people don't talk them out like adults, and things end up bubbling beneath the surface. After a while, they just tend to pile up, until it hits a breaking point, and as Kaiser said, they don't tend to view schisms as bad. So they leave to do their own thing, to get away from the people they've got a grudge against. It makes leading elves exhausting, as it just becomes a game of trying to spot and put out these ooc fires between groups, when that responsibility should fall to people themselves.
  6. It would be a day or two before the young ame’ would come across one of the trees her mother had described. The arid desert air would whip across her face, giving her a far rosier complexion over the long journey. The burns over her eye would sting, having been dried out over her journey. But nevertheless, she carried on through it all. At last though, she would spot it in the distance, atop the hill. It’s messy pale green leaves sat atop its branches, like a head of wild hair over each one. At its sight, the ame’ let out a dry laugh, shaking her head as she pressed on toward it. All the while she went, her wrapped feet would dig small footprints into the sand. As she approached the tree, she’d drop to her knees, bowing to it as it stood, tall and silent. Quietly, she spoke her gratitude to the tree, thanking it for this small sacrifice. “I bring nourishment to replace what will be lost, Vision Tree.” she uttered. At this, she reached into her bag, withdrawing a small bundle of cloth, wrapped in small, raggedy twine. She’d lay it out before her, before reaching toward the base of the tree’s trunk with her knife. She’d begin to dig out a small hole beside the tree, stabbing down into the dirt to loosen it, before pushing it out of the hole with her hand. She did this until she reached the roots. Then, the ame’ reached back over the parcel, cutting the twine with the knife, revealing a small lump of meat, which she’d pick up and place over the root. But it was dry. The ame’ thought. Reaching for her waterskin, she found it to be light. Peeking a golden eye within the skin, she saw just a bit of water at the bottom. She’d eye it momentarily, before shutting her eyes, and pouring a bit over the lump of meat, to rehydrate it some. After this ritual was done, she’d cover the hole with the dirt, patting it down with her bare hand. Then came the task at hand. Rori reached up, carving a small amount of the bark from the tree’s side with her knife. Gingerly, she took the small, flat piece of brittle bark, laying it over the piece of cloth that held the meat. With the pommel of her knife, she’d begin to crush the bark into tiny pieces, obliterating it until it was naught but a powder. She’d draw a small pipe from her bag after rooting around for a bit, and with the new powder, she’d fill the bowl at the end. Finally, she’d sit against the tree, and hold the pipe in both hands, bowing her head. “Coyote.” she whispered “I seek a vision from you. Show me what I need to see.” With a match she had bought from an Orenian trader, she’d light the pipe up, before bringing it to her lips and drawing a hefty breath inward. Holding it for a moment, she’d lay her head back against the tree, before spindles of smoke lofted out from the corners of her mouth, trailing into the skies, before being stolen by the harsh desert air. Rori would sit there for some time, watching the thin clouds that slowly crept across the sky in the distance, like a man crawling to an oasis for water. Her eyes trailed down, across the sandy rocks that dotted the landscape, over the brown desert grasses that stretched like patchwork over the ground. The sun would beat down bright… and brighter, and brighter. The finer details of the world around her began to shimmer away, the ame’ squinting some as the sun enveloped the world around her. Her head swayed, as if it had become a heavy weight, rolling to the side as her arms and legs refused to move. “Sa’roir…” The gentle voice wafted over the rocks and grasses, becoming little more than a whisper that hit her ears. “Who… said that?” she would say, lifting her head up lazily to look across the ever brightening landscape. Nearly all detail had faded, and the world was little more than a blank canvas. The woman’s voice spoke again to her. “Never forget. We were known as the forgotten folk. Centuries of tradition, and culture, withered away like the corpse of a beast.” Before her, the canvas that was the world began to shift and meld, what little color there was growing- and amalgamated into a scene before her, of a lone and decrepit shrine that once depicted the earthmother, the aspect of life. It was covered with weeds, desecrated and speckled with foul writings. “Why are you telling me this? Who are you?!” Rori called out once again, in vain. “You are the blood of my blood, Sa’roir. But you have lost your way.” A woman would emerge from behind the statue, her skin as dark as the bark of the trees, her eyes a golden amber hue. Her blackened hair descended from her head, stretching down to the forest floor, dragging twigs and leaves along with it. She wore a simple green robe, beads stretching down across her braids. Rori would recognize her from the paintings within the Vale. “Marmarhaelun…” she said, her eyes flooding with recognition. The ame’ lifted a hand lazily to try and reach out to her, but to no avail. “I pass on that which my teacher taught me. I speak now to you what he spoke unto me. Do not forget this.” After speaking, the elder would pause, stepping forward only to kneel in front of Rori, staring at her eye to eye. “Never forget we were once known as the forgotten folk. Those who had left their ways behind, to die in the mud. We lived, subjugated by others, a hollow shell of what we once were. Centuries of war, and slaughter had turned us into this, had made us forget our way. We cannot forget, Sa’roir. We must bear the torch, and uncover that which has been forgotten. Do not let the world around you quash what is left. Do not let what has been found be forgotten again…” “But… how? How can I do what you’ve done?” “Learn all that can be learned. Live as we live, and teach unto others what has been taught to you. And when all is done, seek to uncover what is still lost to the past, to the fires of war and bloodshed. Bear the torch, young one.” And soon, all would begin to fade away from Rori’s view, including the elder. “No, no wait! I’m not you! How will I know what to do?!” The young ame’ would try and push herself forward, to pursue the elder as she stepped away, and faded into the night. But all the ame’ could do was crawl, and listen to her final words. “Never forget, we were once known as the forgotten folk…”
  7. LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
  8. Cold darkness gave way to warm, glittering sunlight that came to flood the man's vision, as he opened his eyes. As far as the eye could see, were emerald green forests, stretching up and threatening to scathe the sky wide open. His vision would fall upon a familiar face, smiling warmly and kindly- a hand coming to intertwine with his own, to offer a comforting squeeze to him. "Well done, oh Amber Fox... you did magnificently in your life. But now is the time to rest, dear. Now is the time to breathe... and heal."
  9. NomadGaia

    Impieri

    Hi there, as you can see, you have been accepted onto the server! Well done on your application, you’re doing great! So now, I welcome you to the wonderful community of LotC! To get started, I suggest doing; /creq Please can a CT monk come assist me starting out? ♥ Here are some links you may find useful while starting out! : https://wiki.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Settlement_Guides https://wiki.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Nations_and_Major_Charters Need help? Feel free to contact me via the forums or my discord [gaia#5196]. I’m often online too, so you can message me with /message NomadGaia to find me in game. If I’m not around you can also use the LotC Discord which is right here! : https://discord.gg/fwEQA2F You can also use /creq ingame and me or my fellow CT members can help you that way! Lastly, For guides, tutorials, and how to request help from a CT member, please head to the New Player Hub found here: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/193743-new-player-hub/ Have a great time roleplaying, and I look forward to seeing you around in future! ♥
  10. What is thy name? Asula an Iarwaïn What is thy race? Mali'thill From which talonii do thou hail, if mali’thill? an Iarwaïn Art thou pure? Undoubtably. What is thou age? Thirty-Six Dost thou pledge thy troth and loyalty to the Silver Mother, Larihei, and her state? I do.
  11. Can you make me an admin? Not of anything in particular, just like a base admin. What's the best color? (There is only one good answer.) Can I spot a crisp 8000 mina?
  12. Within the walls of her new home, a rather tall thill' woman nodded as she read the missive, the slightest hint of a smile beginning to cross her features. "May we bring about her vision for our people. Purity, at last." she'd mutter, setting the paper down on her desk. Standing, she'd retrieve a modest glass of red wine, before standing out on the balcony. Raising the glass, she'd proclaim- "Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya!"
  13. Asula- ward to Ayliana and Kiljarys, pledges her support to the aspiring 'thill she had met the other day.
  14. Brother Leviathan may find himself greeted in the eternal forest by an old friend, an elder druidess he had met so many years ago in the seaside village. "Welcome, brother. Come sit and rest with me a while. There is much for you to see here, but there is no rush."
  15. [Art by kairosia] The elder druid would sit down after the two druii vanished into the air, like smoke in the wind. She rested her hands on her legs, taking a deep breath as she felt the sun shine upon her face once again. Here, in this place, all her aches and pains had vanished. Her body unmarred by the ages as it had been in the mortal realm. Been even still, her heart ached for those that she had left behind. Sonna and Nivndil had left, but every part of her wanted to plead for them to stay here, at her side. But she knew lives had to be lived. They were needed elsewhere. In time, they would meet again- here in this place of eternal rest. Reaching down, she'd mark a fox's face, and an autumn leaf in the dirt, hoping to keep a piece of them here. As time went on, she looked up to the place where the two of them had vanished, and thought. I pray they remember me well. I will keep them in my heart fondly.
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