DISCOLIQUID

In a study deep in a cavern of ice, a Witch presses pen to paper to finally uncover the truth of an impossible riddle. It was only by the aid of a few that she was able to come to an answer, though now she finally has arrived at the conclusion. Pen drops, splattering ink as Tek finishes her conclusion. OOC : For those who wish to see the solved puzzle, it is in the spoiler below.

As long as this cannot be used in combat against creatures weak to direct sunlight, sure.

I spoke with Treshure over the LotC medium and have decided to support this lore as an addition to Fi'hiran'tanya so that the magic may grow and become less ooga booga. He has promised me I will not see a knight wielding an anti-magic gem sword, and that I will not see a large room with an anti-magic gemstone lodged in its walls.

This lore places fi'hiran'tanya into weaponry and buildings. I disagree wholeheartedly with this premise. The beauty of fi' mages was that they were walking pillars of anti-magic, but you did not have to fear an 'enchantment' of Fi' magic suddenly nullifying all magic in a room. As it serves, I believe anti-magic is currently balanced. An anti-mage, such as Ikur Seregon, is wholly ineffective in combat against a non-mage. In addition, he suffers extreme weakness, paranoia, and maddening whispers. On the off-chance he is fighting a mage of any sort, Ikur's true strength lies there. I also do not understand how a Fi' mage, who's power comes from subverting and confusing mana by use of an anchor directly to the void, would grow in power by shoving this connection into a stone. This seems backwards, as Hugo pointed out. Treshure, this lore is well-written, I confess. I simply do not wish for a magic such as Fi'hiran'tanya to be so drastically changed from it's (in my opinion) perfectly balanced and rather intriguing state.

(( Fixed. ))

This explanation is interesting. I have a few questions to press into your proposition, as I am simply curious. You claim that negative thoughts can cause corruptions within the void that can grow in power. What do positive thoughts create? Would the more powerful mages be able to influence the void more, as they are more attuned to the raw, inexplicable energy?

[Music] Tek’s undisguised form, malignant and grey, prowls around the lowlands of the Fenn kingdom. She glares forward, eyeing laced with hatred and iced cruelty. The darkness of the night is broken by the shimmering aurora of her azure eyes; two beacons of frigid light pierce the veil — the eyes of a predator. Aelthir trudges through the light snow of the forest, gripping his shield and spear tightly as he makes his way towards his vassals. His armor glints in the light of the moon, his helm upon his head. Aelthir's silver eyes scan the ground in front of him, not bothering to look for threats, as he does not believe anything notably dangerous to be prowling the woods. Had the two not spotted each other, the events of the night would have passed differently. Despite this, a predator had spotted prey, and a Prince had spotted a trespasser. There would be no peace tonight. Tek was the first to arm herself. Her mind swept free of thoughts as idle conversation was struck up between the Prince and the Witch. She probed out, linking her own mind with the Princes', though he was not aware. The flash of iron was next, drawn by Aelthir. His menacing tone grew steeled, and Tek's glare grew pointed. In Aelthir's chest, a pain of daggers erupted. Even a Prince falters at pain, and Aelthir's knees drew closer to the ground. Tek's shark-like grin grew as the Prince's words, pushed out through pain, suggested a single idea. "A fair fight, beast. Put away your illusions." And so, Tek's magicka broke. She stood back, retreating into the forest line. The Grand Prince had the sense to arm himself -- spear and shield were taken into his powerful arms. His position lowered, a token of honor offered to Tek so she may arm herself. A blizzard, or perhaps, a dance of snow began to arise around her. It was not launched forward. Tek held her forces back, awaiting a pounce of the Prince. When nothing came, she brought her hands downwards. The ice and snow wrapped around her form in claws of menacing ice. Her body was coated with a glistening sheen of ice armor. Her right hand tightened upon a curved blade of azure ice, and her left hand held a grip upon a sapphire shield of frost. It was Tek who struck first. Her right hand, having formed the false blade, launched it. The edged form of the blade cascaded down through the air, directed by her will. It shattered and splattered upon the shield of the Prince. It drug down the shield, weight growing vast. But weight does not stop a Prince. He charged, spear raised. Tek was unarmed, only a shield in her hands. Her dance to the left was a narrow one, yet her next move was clever. Her own shield shattered as well, surrounding the spear of the Prince. Two items served too great to carry as Tek pulled her arms down, the ice around the weapons obeying her commands to tug. The Prince loosed his grip upon his weaponry and opted instead for a more brutal approach. He drew his longsword in a fluid grip and swiped at her chin. Iron met frost and broke it -- Tek's chin opened up from center to right side, gashing a malefic scar into her. Purple ooze, the frozen blood of the Witch, dribbled out as her lips parted to reveal a visceral cry. Yet, pain does not stop a beast. Tek sent her right hand to the air and her left hand to the earth. The armor of frost that conglomerated to her wispy form creaked and then lurched forward. It connected to the ground and blasted outwards and upwards, forming a pillar of ice that caught the entire forearm of Prince Tundrak in its cold and wicked binds. Tek faltered, however, her pain driving her back and unto the earth. Tundrak was swift, he had already taken out a dagger and begun to chip at the pillar of ice. Tek was faster. She brought her hands to the earth around her and the pillar of ice shattered inwards. The protest of metal and bone gave into the respective screams and cracks of the two. Here, frost would trump iron. The right fore-arm of the Prince was ruined by the pressure of ice. He himself faltered back as Tek trudged away. There was no mercy here, however. A fair fight does not end at a forfeit. The Prince charged the wounded beast, bringing his left hand, armed by dagger, to her chest. It was only just so that Tek, by reflex of kicking the Prince away, blocked the swipe of the dagger with the flesh of calf. The iron met her iced flesh and ripped into it, leaving a cruel chasm in her left calf. Leaking from her was chunky ooze, dark mottled purple in color. Tek howled and raised her right hand. A bolt of ice, poorly aimed, blasted past the Prince, taking his parts of his right ear and portions of his temple with it. Their forms slumped back, they could not continue. The breath of the Prince grew heavy and weak, and Tek held no more energy to fight the oncoming death should she remain in combat. She slumped away at the ungodly hour, carrying herself into the forest to lick her wounds, while the Prince remained on the ground to have servants attend his. Yet no fair battle ends at the forfeit of both sides. A battle does not end until one stands victorious and the other lies broken in defeat. This would not be their last clash.

Tek drifts by the paper, and taps it twice. "Odd. I hope he finds a teacher." [Read Me - OOC]

[ Music to set the scene. ] This day was a bright day in Felsen. The sun beat down upon the cobbled and graveled roads, and wanderers of all sorts drifted in and out to the lazy thrum of the city. The bustle of the city seemed even to have a lilt, a musical taste to the activity. Smile had been passed from person to person; jovial children ran in the streets, exuberant; merchants called into the dry air, selling their goods! Despite the light tones of the day, two women had seen it fit to ruin it. In the distance, a heated argument was arising between two women. One seemed a lowley and inconsequential peasant. Dirt had been painted upon the canvas of her face, and her features were stretched into a deepened frown. The peasant seemed furious. Her cold glare bore no weight of emotion outside of hatred, though the single weight of such a primal feeling crashed forcefully against the glare of the other woman, Camile de Savoie. They exchanged words -- one set was heated, and driven by annoyance. These were the words that spewed from Camile. The other set of words was cold, distant, spiteful. Grinding tones from the both of these women grated past the ears of those unfortunate enough to stand by. Bystanders here and there passed the verbal skirmish. “Your noble kind disgusts me. You have no place upon this land other than one in the ground, Savoie.” The peasant spoke, crisp and articulate. “You are an unfaithful woman, you low-life and degenerate failure. You are a sodomite and even then, you shall never garner love from any woman you seek.” Camile’s words curled, snake-like, before cracking down as a whip. The dirtied woman across from her stiffened, and her lips had pressed together. She tipped her head away, an annoyed hiss expunged from her lips with force. The woman slithered off, cursing under her breath. Camile gave an indignant huff and went about her business. [ Mood Change ] As the arms of night wrapped around the city of Felsen, a rain broke from the heavens. Spirals of cold water drenched the streets, chilling the residents and driving many of them to the inn. Camile, however, paced the streets. Her chilled form drifted in between muck covered roads. In the distance, a figure was seen. Her eyes snapped to it, and then the figure disappeared like a glitch of static. Camile froze then, and she looked around. Panic had filled her eyes as ale fills a clear glass. Frantic gazes danced everywhere, before a gasp was shoved from her lips. A dagger of ice had fallen into her back. Camile glanced down. Blood streamed from her lips and her form cascaded forward. Her head turned back, eyeing the ashen figure of a horrific woman. Azure glowing eyes pierced through the dredge of the rain, and white hair drifted like a blizzard in the ambient wind. “For your crimes, your teeth.” ~ - ~ Camile would be found in the square of Felsen, a deep stab in her back. Her mouth, grotesque, would lack all teeth. They were smashed out, so it would seem.

Under the cover of night, and upon neutral lands, a figure slips unto a field of grass and plants down a pike. The head of a child is skewered on after, the young human not older than five or six. His features, at least those that are recognizable, are frozen in a scream. The head would not be recognizable through the scarring and what seems to be deep bite marks of a feral animal and long, gouged lacerations. A dried note is pinned beneath the piked head. A single track of light, female footprints is lead away from the lands and into the cloud temple.

Holy god, I have an approved MA for necromancy and even I wouldn't pull this.

A pale Aheral woman tosses a book bound in thick leather to the ground. "Build a library, or tell me where yours is. If you are going to say you shall reward scholars, try and actually attract some."

Typing only /redeem with no value allows you to check the number of keys you have.

Have you tried typing /redeem? It should list the amount of keys you have. At times, it glitches for me, but I still receive my keys later.

Fun, you say? Very well. Here is my favorite GM, doing the Nay-Nay with his favorite weapon, The Axe of Crunk.

Excellent guide. I had no idea gold gave a high power.

Tek kneels down to the floor of her frozen room. A pained hiss leaves her shark-like teeth, and then her full form drops and she seizes, her figure writhing and convulsing. She rises after a time, shushed blood and slushy saliva dripping from her maw. She draws her legs in and mutters under her breath. She splits her thoughts, spiraling into the spectator mind to analyze what symbols and voices she has seen. "I will find these voices," she whispers.

Do players believe this vote should impact the current staff teams? Are we allowed to offer constructive criticism to those who we believe are sub-par in the completion of their duties?

This lore is detailed and interesting. I have a few questions regarding it. Is it plausible that a single person owns all of these? If so, would one person holding all of these instruments be, in your opinion, overpowered? Can these weapons be used purposefully to attack another single person, or a group? For example, if I locked a group of people in a room with the harp, would they have to go mad? How are we, as a server, or perhaps you as a lore writer, going to keep these items from sitting in a chest, collecting dust?

Stop writing lore all you do is write lore do you even sleep +1

A thin woman stands among the crowds. Her ivory hair whips behind her paled form as eyes, alight with an azure glow, glare forward at Ithael. An ashen hand dredges a white flower upwards, holding it before her iced lips. The lips part to heave out an exhale. "The clerics are a burden to our world. The descendant's atavistic behavior must be rectified. We slink to the belly of the earth to allow our power to grow, and in time we shall ascend through the crust of this realm, power seething from our forms." The woman looks directly upon Ithael, catching his attention. She raises the paled flower towards him as her left hand tightens around a hammer of ice. "For better or worse," Tek swears. [Tek / DiscoLiquid.]

1 ) Can we please let players name/describe custom items? 2 ) Why is land so hard to get? 3 ) Can we re-add reliable mina amounts to voting? 4) Why don't I still have my SS slots for donating 500 dollars to the server? 5) Can we have the GM team make more public votes on issues? 6) Can the GM team just be more active in general? 7) Why did the Orcs get a PvP buff when the Halflings lost their land? 8) When will Halflings get the buff they were promised? 9) What does the GM team want to see more from from the players? 10) Do you have any roleplaying tips for new or mildly new players?

Now that Hugo has added this change, I support the addition of this lore. It adds flavorful role-play that will allow for interesting transactions between characters, namely shamans and those afflicted with mental disorders.

No one better for this job currently. Put him on the team.