GDPR 014

With the success of his goal, he felt a longing for more. This place he was in, it was no longer adequate, and to truly be set free, one must move on; especially when given new responsibility. Gereon readied his things, and looked forward to a brighter future. He said goodbye to his close colleagues, his aides who helped him create this stone, and set forth -- with stone in tow, to forge a brighter path. He traveled along this plane, sailing the great seas, from Aeldin to the Emerald Isles,aiding many with the Philosopher’s Stone, until it was dormant for a while. He made a name for himself on those other continents, building his own home and family with a woman he grew fond of; she was strong, caring -- someone he could truly trust. Together, they sired two children, raising them to want to go out and reach for their dreams. Indeed, Gereon wanted them to learn from the bloodline, as well as covet the importance of it. He wrote and created a great library, one that would house all the family knowledge and secrets, allowing them to learn from him, and for their kin to learn from past members. This was to ensure they would learn and never forget their roots. During their childhood, Gereon was between planes every so often, seeking to continue his great work; A cosmic compendium of the planes. Thankfully, his work under The Organization allowed him to, and being granted a seat along the Tarots as The Hanged Man was an incredible boon. He desired to go back more and more, though his children and his wife -- they were his priority at the time. The days passed, and so did the years; though his age was not showing as much. Surely, he was a man, but time acted slower due to his planar travels, and the symbiote that dwelled with him. Eventually, his children left him, of age and ready to venture the world and make names for themselves. This was the time to pursue his dreams once again, his magnum opus; to document the cosmos. His wife received it well, and allowed the fate-breaker to continue, though she would follow suit now and then. Their bond would remain, throughout time. It was final, that notion to leave the world, for goal and work. His time in this world was done; it was time for new and greater things, so for the last time -- he prepared the ritual to leave this world, forming a great rift between spaces. Looking upon it, he smiled again -- and hopeful for the next stage of his life, he walked into it. And so he left, his heart free to venture the wilds. ((This is my last post I’ll make for LoTC. It was fun playing and meeting y’all. I had a nice time, but I think it’s time to wrap up. Take care of yourselves, and if anything, hit me up on discord or something (but believe me i'm pretty boring so idk why you’d do that). SourDough#8909))

Oh sweet mother sweet mother send your child onto me for the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear

id be happy to collaborate

yeah i think ima have to call the inquisition on this sorry

Progress is a powerful thing. It is an insatiable fire that burns within someone, urging them to move forward. The scarred man’s fire burned brighter after the events with the lightning. What he knew was only a droplet in the great ocean that surrounded his goal, and he had to know more if he wanted to sail closer. He looked across the planes, the man’s home becoming filled with constellations and notes of the planes beyond this world. He had to keep searching; his obsession was concerning some of the denizens of his household as his minutes pondering turned to hours, hours became days -- it was a ravenous cycle, one that would be broken. There was hope in the worlds he did not know, where the Scarred Man’s astral employment and star signs did not yet know. He prepared the ritual, using his salts, and the dried umbilical cord that acted as his planar focus. He tore a hole in reality, and vanished from the earth, to the great ocean. Traveling the great ocean was a feeling he was more accustomed to now; one might initially feel sick at their first time, as it feels as though one was being rapidly accelerated and then slowed down, but now -- he was only slightly disoriented from the travel. He manifested, a three point landing with smoke rising from his person. It was instinct to now stay still for a few moments, to make sure nothing was disturbed from his travel, and then continue. The Scarred Man looked around the grassy plain, and the hills and ruins that surrounded it, then to the sky above - filled with floating land and a sky that showed what was beyond, the nebula of space. He felt something off about this world; he swore he felt something within it pull at him, beckoning him forward, towards the great ruined arches and the scarred gravel path. The Alchemist followed this feeling, with his heatless lantern in tow. The land was vibrant and varied, filled with mountains, plains, and forests, It was quite beautiful. The wildlife seemed relatively similar to the Mortal Plane, this betrayed what was ahead. When he crossed a great hill and peered below, he could not believe his eyes. The great construct of legend. The Tower. It was massive, a great tower -- surrounded by abandoned homes and buildings -- that pierced the sky, shining a dim light from the wound and onto the structure. Its age was evident, large archways and stairs that ran along the various levels of the tower had cracks and foliage growing off it, though the tower was in far better conditions than the buildings surrounding it. He marvelled at Llull, the origin of worldly manipulation. The Scarred Man continued down, treading through the worn streets to come to the entrance of the tower. This place was not ravaged by war, he surmised; it appeared as though it was left in an exodus, or something of the like. When he came to entrance of the tower, he had to take another moment to bask in its glory, and make note of the stone guardians that silently watched over the tower, the gargoyles resembled men - Adonis’ with tattered cloth and wearing paint - their heads marked with Alchemical symbols. They were lifeless, however the sculptures gave off an air of dominance. He hesitantly walked past, and moved into the great tower. It was massive within, taking him a great deal to even get to the center. The Alchemist looked around again, before feeling that tug become stronger. He couldn’t help but feel something complement the pull, faint whispers and the occasional odd shadow. He grew more mindful, and readied his launcher as he followed the world’s rhetoric, up the construct. The artifacts and information within was vast, this place was truly guided by Philosophy and Ideals, led by Philosopher Kings who stayed within the tower. The information was in both books and murals, with the last thing recorded was a series of events in the form of murals, a depiction of two angels coming from the heavens and meeting with a masked king, and bestowing what appeared to be an Alchemical circle, one which described the world. Following that, the mural showed the sun and moon shining down on the alchemists at work; the next scripture however, was not yet finished. People were drawn, in search of something, and they came upon the top of the tower, seeking what he can only think of as Truth. Worldly knowledge that surpassed what they already knew. Ascending the tower took days, not from the great height of the construct; he wandered along each floor, and examined the great wonders. These people had used some ancient practice before the coming of Alchemy, relying on the material symbols. When Alchemy was transitioned into society, it seemed to make a prosperous society even greater. He documented many of the great things he saw, though he noticed that shadows began to linger the further up he went, and the world continued to nudge him. He eventually came to the highest point, where the tower pierced the heavens and the cosmic sky turned blue and cloudy; before him was a large throne, surrounded by chairs and shadowy figures, all pointing to one thing -- an insignia on the grand throne, made of golden arms that interlocked hands -- a symbol of a tree, with the shadows pointed towards the roots. He heard the rattling of something on the side, a lift had risen via chains, and the shadows immediately reached across the smaller room and towards the center of the lift. On it, the insignia of roots rest. He moved towards it, whispers filling his head, the voices of many, which spoke of a certain wisdom that lay below; the knowledge of the people. He was drawn to the notion, not by the world, but his yearn for knowledge, the wisdom of Llull ought to be impeccable, the fellow assumed. His mind prattled on in rhythm with the actuating chains and pulley, he wondered how far down he was descending. Even though there was little vision of the floors as he descended, he assumed he was going below the ground floor, narrowing his eyes as the light grew dimmer and dimmer. Soon, the chains stopped. He was at the very bottom, a long room with polished granite floors, lit by artificial lights. He noticed lines and symbols within them, making a peculiar shape outlined by dark stone and material symbols. In its center was a large stone figure, where multiple shadows sprang from, reaching the ends of the symbol. The statue resembled a faceless man, with multiple arms and legs, holding a large circle in the air. It was an Ouroboros, the symbol of infinity and wholeness. He could feel it calling to him, beckoning for the alchemist to come closer. He walked, mindful of the shadows that stood., and seemed to watch him. It felt like all eyes were on him, even though there were none to speak of. As he got to the center of the symbol, and towards the statue, he dropped to a knee before it, looking to the ground below, filled with varying symbols -- each he was able to recognize as symbols of the material alphabet. As he began to decipher the meaning of these, he felt a tug in his being. The shadows formed to shapes, rising from the ground to become humanoid forms. The Scarred man gritted his teeth as he felt his body turn against him. The blood pushed against his flesh; with streams of it being excruciatingly forced out from the tips of his fingers and toes, pooling within his gloves and boots to be forced into the circles, with some remaining to coil around him. He was unable to scream, even when he wanted to - opening his mouth to try was met with silence as it felt like something was trying to push back. The shadows leaked as well, dark ichor pooled to the ground to join with his blood, more of theirs than his. The statue rattled and cracked at the center, black and viscous arms tearing free from a nebulous cosm and reaching out from the stone cradle, all grabbing at the man. They each held parts of his body, his throat, his arms, his chest. Hands took his head and forced it to stare at the Ouroboros, Zadrik was wide eyed, from both pain and situation. The Ouroboros began to fill at the center, a midnight blue right. It hurt to look at, though looking away was not an option. When the portal fully manifested, the color turned pale, and the hands suddenly reached for his face, towards his left eye. It was then, he was able to scream, as they tore into the socket and ripped the eye straight from his face. His vision grew blurry in his only now widened eye as the hands moved the eye towards the center of the rift; blood dripped and pooled into the sigils below. He was not able to lose consciousness, having to endure this excruciating pain; shock was not even occurring. The eye took center stage in the rift, sucking into the vortex, only to stare back at Zadrik. He screamed louder and louder as he felt his own eye staring at him, with his brain filling with images and knowledge. He felt thousands of voices fill his head, thousands of experiences and wisdoms that culminated in one mind boggling thing. Truth “Sic Mundus Creatus Est” He was forced to endure, time was meaningless in this situation; even if he was being choked by the hands, or forced to endure his wounds, the knowledge kept coming to him. What these people learned, the hidden Philosophies of here and there, it was burned into his brain. The process took days; his body suffered, his skin clung to the bone at the end of this -- forced to sacrifice, starve, and endure for this knowledge. Eventually, the hands pulled free from the ravaged Zadrik, fading away as he hit the ground, body twitching and squirming. It was not yet over, as in his head, he saw a singular man, blood pooling from his hand, donning a crowned mask and curious outfit. A Philosopher King. The king reached out, and in his hand, the Scarred Man saw it, the sigils, the blood -- it made sense. He saw the Truth these people spoke of. When it finally came to him, the figure that lurked in his mind vanished, and he lost consciousness. When he awoke, eyeless and in his own vomit and blood, he was in a desolate place. Cracked pillars, and a gateway held by black floors. He slowly got up, haggard and disheveled, his hand cupping his lost eye. With a sudden twitch of his fingers and tap of his hand, the blood scabbed and solidified, and he proceeded through the gateway, to home with his newfound knowledge.

Woah, nice popper.

Liquid Lightning This is what happens when one tries to harness the power of the gods, and create lightning. The liquid sparks and crackles, charged with electricity. Bottled Lightning Also referred to as God’s Wrath, this is what happens when one tries to recreate lightning in its absolute entirety. Electricity crackles and arcs within the concoction. Dispersing Oil Used to counter lightning’s wrath, this oil is applied on the clothing of those working in areas with a mass amount of storms and lightning.

shiet i just edited my post just to say that 🙂

may the best cannon win. edit: I love your lore tho, its very well defined and awesome, I hope these two pieces can coexist.

thank you dude i love you youre great

A scarred man scratches his head and looks to his comrade. “Would they?”

Chime Lilies Sign(s) Air Earth Water Symbol(s): Sound x3 Grace x1 Courage x2 Appearance: A type of lily with what can be described as a strange formation on the stem. It would seem to be a small oval shape with cords that resemble a windchime. When wind passes through them, they make soft melodic sounds. Location: Windy Areas, places with rich soil, and around waters such as lakes, pools, rivers, and streams. Harvesting: Simply pluck the stem from the flower, be sure to take the organ as well. The lily regrows every three stone days. It can be moved to other areas, requiring one to move the lily with rich soil and some water. Raw Effects: The organ, when dried, can be used as a form of wind chime. Alternatively it can be made as a type of whistle or instrument, though it would need to be crafted in such a way that the organ is still somewhat intact. The sound will always carry some kind of melody to it. Redlines: The sound is not deafening. A lily will regrow every three OOC days.

Night Glow Sign(s): Air Symbol(s): Light x3 Peace x2 Swiftness x2 Appearance: A seemingly ordinary flower with azure blue and soft yellow petals that coil up to the shape of a conch during the day; when the sun goes down, its petals unravel and gleam a spectral light of some color, exposing the pistil and stamen of the flower, which also has a bright light. Quite beautiful, more so since it spreads little wisps about its location. Location: These flowers are often found in areas of higher elevations, or in clearings inside forests. They can easily be taken out of these locations and thrive elsewhere. Harvesting: imply cut the stem of the flower to harvest it, the flower itself grows back within the span of a couple stone days. If one wanted to move it, they would need to get some soil and uproot the plant, and set it inside the soil. Raw Effects: The flower, when there is little to no light, will produce light, roughly that of a redstone torch. It will spread particles that also give off a dim light. These flowers can have oil extracted from them, which gives off light when there is little around it. Some people often use these in graveyards to guide the lost spirits back to their graves, or for having lanterns which only activate in the night. What is more interesting is that one can use the oil to make a form of invisible ink, which only lights up during the night, it can be used for things such as graffiti or for writing hidden messages. Redlines: The light cannot blind anyone. When farming, a flower will be farmable again every 2 OOC days.

Y'all would have to write lore for it. As of now black powder has no use save for cannons

god these new regents are sexy. give me that FLAVOR

I do it for my dog

I do it for my cat

thats something im not sure about so youd have to see when/if it gets accepted

if they tell me to edit it then i suppose ill edit it

Recipe: -Charcoal -Sulfur -Saltpeter -Pure Grain Alcohol Appearance: Black Powder appears in the form of a dark gray powder with lighter gray granules mixed in. Creation: The creation involves three components: Saltpeter, Sulfur, Charcoal. The composition is 75% Saltpeter, 15% Charcoal, 10% Sulfur. Each ingredient must be processed and ground down, with care not to breathe in the particulates. Prepare the charcoal first, or purchase it already made. Then take your charcoal, saltpeter and sulfur and grind those ingredients down into a very fine powder. Make sure to keep these ingredients separate for now. For the amount of the powdered mixes you've prepared, prepare about 2 cups of pure grain alcohol. First, pour half your alcohol slowly into the sulfur powder while it sits on a low heat in a wide pan. Stir it gently until the sulfur is dissolved, be very careful not to allow this mixture to catch fire while stirring. Once dissolved and stirred, you may then add the Charcoal and Saltpeter mixture. While the powders and mixing with the alcohol mixture, be sure to wear a mask to avoid inhaling any smoke. Turn off the heat, and store your mixture somewhere dark and cold for at least a day, then afterwards set it to dry in the sun. Once it is dried, break it back down into a powder gently and store it in a container somewhere cool and out of reach of children. [[ OOC: For obvious reasons, incorrect steps have been added to the creation process. This is not how you make real black powder. Please do not attempt this. ]] Raw Effect(s): A Highly reactive material, black powder when ignited will quickly spark and set on fire, only to die shortly after. This can find its uses in a variety of applications, one such is the use for fireworks, a glorious display during festivals. Signs & Symbols: [as a reagent] [Fire] and [Earth] -Chaos x1 -Heat x2 -Burning x2 Redlines: - Cannot be weaponized unless specific lore states otherwise. - Black powder on its own can't be used to create explosions of any destructive scale. - Not an alchemical Recipe - Non-alchemists can make black powder, but only alchemists can extract its symbols as a reagent. - No ST sign required Credit to TaiwanNotChina for the original iteration Credit to Sorcerio for assisting with some details Credit to Sybbyl for updated recipe & Amendments

Cannons Origin A long lost technology developed in old times. This was done through a combination of black powder and a massive barrel. Strangely, this technology was lost to the ages, though some have come to rediscover them. Description A cannon is a massive device that would make itself clear on the battlefield through a sound louder than any trebuchet; either bolted to the ground or mounted on wheels to be transported, this large weapon is employed for both defense and offense, able to deliver blasts that can rend through infantry men due to the large caliber and the amount of blackpowder that can be stuffed inside of it; however, the most efficient use was against enemy buildings, able to punch holes in thick stone walls after multiple shots. Naturally, due to the size of this monstrosity, it requires a 3 man crew in battle. Cannons bear a minimum weight of 1 ton, that being 2,000 pounds, or 907 kilograms. The projectiles cannons fire can vary greatly in size and shape, however, cannons as a general rule will be unable to fire projectiles that weigh over 40lbs (or 18 kg) any significant distance. Between at minimum 2 meters long, and at maximum 4, Cannons are and can be of very different makes and designs – though all of which achieving the same purpose. Capabilities The Cannon is capable of busting holes in fortifications and walls. Of course, that is to be expected given it is a large lead ball being shot at high speeds. When the cannon is fired it makes a deafening roar. Of course, there can be other kinds of ammunition rather than the standard ammunition. Grapeshot: Ineffective against structures, more effective towards infantry. It bombards infantry with the high speed metal balls, and can deal heavy damage and make quick work of most armors – rather short of range, a wide-spread of pellets and shot may be wildly inaccurate, but very effective against clusters of foes. Ball and Chain/Mast Cutters: Used for naval combat, the ball and chain ammunition is used to shred through sails due to the boosted velocity. When fired, the balls of the chain spread out and leave a chain which will try to catch onto something, preferably a mast, this will then tear through the structure. Explosive Shot: Utilizing Boomsteel, one would be able to carefully crate a low-density boomsteel cored shot. Given time of diffusion of heat, when made contact an amalgam of pressure, heat, and force of collision would produce an explosive significantly more powerful than any standard ammunition, decimating any 5x5x5 area with ease. Craftsman’s Shot: Given the variety of materials in the world, it is not uncommon for inventors and engineers to make up their own shot and types. Often using rare metals or magics, one could yield very different effects given their unique properties – such as Lunarite shot used as tracing rounds in darkness, or a blasting-potion shot to re-create the effects of boomsteel shot, as example. Mechanics How to use a Cannon: Requires 5 emotes to operate. Requires a 3 man crew. Red Lines/Restrictions -Always requires Five emotes to use. -Cannons may fire up to 60 meters (Shout range), unless in an Event where they may fire so much and so long as the hosting ET or ETs may allow. -No one can carry around a smaller, portable version. -Cannons may be of multiple and many lore materials, or materials in general, so long as it follows common sense- Ex. no Wood or Stone cannons (In RP, Buildwise both may be used to represent). -Cannons must always be stagnant when mounted (Still, but they may be upon wheels such as a Siege Carriage or a Cart). (Ex. no picking up through a golem, telekinesis, etc) -Cannons may not be pre-loaded before combat. All five emotes must be done during the encounter, one may not engage with a loaded or prepared cannon. -Craftsman’s Shot requires ST Signage and does not require an invention piece – this may be using Lore Materials, Alchemy, or Magic. -This does not allow for small arms to be used, the powder cannot work in such a small system. -Warclaim Stats and Usage is not written at this time, as it requires work with Moderation and Techs who will release a comprehensive siege guide at a later date. Purpose Reintroduce Cannons to be used in LoTC to fit multiple aesthetics and allow for them to be used in Warclaims like in the old days. Credits to Dargrind, for aspects of his Falkenade piece. Credits to Mirtok/Markosi, for aspects of his Siege Cannon piece. Credits to ST, for their contribution in edits and review upon the piece.

is cool

im chilln

"I hate snakes." Says Zadrik, hoping the bushes dony start speaking in hisses and tongue flicking.