arakrsptec

Beneath the great limbs of the Wonka Wood’s towering trees stood a group of armored individuals. Their sturdy figures formed an unorganized group, some even opting to take a seat on nearby roots as they took swigs of whatever substances they’d found on their journeys. Whatever the case, each had their weapons drawn and ready. They muttered quietly as a group of Wonks ran around them. “We’re a bit late,” one of the armored men said to those nearby. “Do we join?” “No. We wait for the Descendants to near the tree, as we were told.” __________________________________ Hellfire. It bit at those dead and alive, jumping along their forms and filling the air with the disgusting smell of burnt flesh. It bit at Fall’s own garb, nearly giving him a head stroke as it baked his finely crafted armor. Around him were several different figures. Orcs, Dwarves, Elves, Humans. It was growing hard to tell who stood with him, but a few faces stood out amongst the crowds of bodies and ash. They roared and yelled as they fought with ferocity, and as more of their own fell they still moved like devils. An Orc was butchered by Elven spears, but his own cleaver cut two of their throats before he fell. A beast of the woods cracked metal with its bare hands as it slammed through lines of Dwarves before finally being felled. Beast men plunged into a group of Human bannermen, flails flying and falling one by one. Wonks stood together before the onslaught of axes and spears. Fall released a roar to his allies, pulling his bloody blade from the dirt. “Today they see the Wrath of September! Our Prince may come as he wishes, no matter what the Dwarves and Elves believe they’ve done to stop him. He trusts us to lay waste to the Descendant forces! He trusts his chosen and those that stand with him to defend our homes while he prepares for his next strike! For the Prince!” These calls littered the battlefield amongst the cries of the fallen. “For the Prince! For the Prince!” For each man of the Prince that fell, another took his place, screaming for the Prince’s reign and the return of nature. Whether it brought fear to their enemies or honor to their allies, they shouted. They charged forward one by one, tearing into whatever Descendant they could get their hands upon- or their axes into. Blood was spilt, but still the Prince’s forces screamed in his name and showed what it was to be a follower of September. It was a bloodbath, but they stood. And as the Titans fell to the united forces of the Descendants, morale stood as strong as the trees in which they resided. If anything, the September Prince’s forces grew more ferocious. They watched the Druids kill forces of nature as if they were nothing, and it infuriated them. It filled them with the anger that drives men to bloodshed. “False Druids! These do not stand for the Aspects, for the nature that guides them- that guide this world! They strike against nature in battle! They fell beasts of the Aspects! They spit in September’s name! I say this not only to you, my friends, but to them! September is the real word of the Aspects! They know it, even if they will not say it. They’ve seen his glory, his majesty, his command over the Nature they have tried to master. They see who will be the true victor, even if they will not admit it.” Beasts fought against men, and as the Descendants began to push harder through the forces of September, they still stood. But reinforcements laid in wait. No matter how many joined to take the the lands of September, they would never be able to hold it for long. And as the last of the Descendant forces left the field, Fall remained, shouting once more for those that stood with him. “The Descendants will count this as a victory, but do they hold these lands? Nay, we do. Do they stand alive on a field of the fallen? Nay, we do. They had a chance to bring an end to our Prince, but today we showed them that he does not stand alone, and those that stands with him are the true followers of Nature. You- you men of the wilds, Orcish allies, and followers of the Aspects- you showed the Descendants the ferocity of the woods.” “For the Prince.”

WHAT IS YOUR NAME?: Athlin HAVE YOU EXPERIENCE WITH COMBAT?: Yes DO YOU AGREE TO UPHOLD HONOR AND TRADITION?: Yes MCNAME: arakrsptec DISCORD: arak#0606

Ribbits of frogs and chirps of crickets filled the empty swamp with an eerie calm. In the dark of the night, only the creatures beneath the surface of the black water could see a boat pass through its littered streams, guided by nothing but an oar and the wind. Two passengers sat in the middle of the boat’s thin base. One an Elf, covered in green robes and twigs, guiding the oar through the murky waters with an expressionless face. The other an armor clad figure, his features covered by mask and hood, a sword strapped cleanly to his leather belt. Both traveled through the silence of the swamp. On beach of a nearby strip of land stood a shirtless figure with blue skin. In the dark of the night he couldn’t be defined as much, but the features that could be seen showed him to be a creature of strength and fortitude. As the boat approached he stood still, and as it docked he barely turned to look upon the two passengers. “Clan of Lak.” The cloaked September servant barked. He stepped off the boat, armor clinking with each fall into muddy shore as he passed through vines and thickets to approach. In response to him the Orc finally turned. In the midst of the night the two conversed on topics that seemed unimportant to none but they. Of the swamp and nature, of the world’s progression. Of the animals lurking in its depths and of those that live on its land. Of the buildings planted through each island, taking control of nature’s grasp. They conversed for what felt like hours, finally coming to a conclusion. Though split between two cultures, they two looked to nature as a bond between them. But soon the conversation shifted. “September remains.” The Prince’s servant spoke. “The one who can topple cities with a swing and destroy Descendant armies with the snap of his fingers cannot be stopped by any Dwarf or Elf. His fist shatters hills like glass and his feet crush Descendants like ants. And as he prepares his next strike, I and my colleagues prepare for our own. We will defend his lands while he removes their own. It is us- those loyal to the Prince’s reign- that will show the weakness of his enemies, of those who hide in their stone cities and castles. Together, Lak, we will bring those that defy us to their knees. We can bring your people revenge against those that have wronged you.” “You have our cleavers,” the Orc spoke in Blah. “Lak stands with September.” “Then I will see you on the field. The Descendants will be faced with the ferocity of the beasts of the wild, the Orcish axes, and the hands of my kin.” The September servant spoke again. “And while we wait, we will make them bleed. Fields shall be burnt, unfaithful slaughtered, settlements returned to the Earth.” “May (those) that stand against us fall to our metal.” “September smiles upon those that stand with him. They shall feel his Wrath through blood and steel.”

felt bad deleted

I play a Hou-zi and can say the opposite. The Kha I do see are rare- or just Sutican pets that hang around making stupid comments. The Hou-zi had a couple players when I took the group, now they have far more and actually talk to one another. I have players committed to growing our culture and adapting it to current RP affairs, which is far more than I’ve seen out of the Kha player base with the interactions I’ve had. I respect everyone wanting to just remove the Hou-zi and Kha entirely, and I’ll say this about them. If I and my player group fail to grow Hou-zi role play then I fully agree with removing it. I believe races should be restricted to what people play. Building on that, however, Rats are just another interesting creature that will be flooded with applications the first month before slowly drizzling until it has little support. If you remove Hou-zi and Kha, don’t replace them, let them die.

“The Descendants have been offered Shepherds. The Prince himself has been a cause for fear, but his power, no matter how vast, requires Wolves. Not Shepherds.” Ashes filled the air around the figure. With only the light of the moon to guide a lost soul through the burnt forest floor, one could barely see the smoke rising through the tops of the great trees that towered above them. Their gray trails mocked his mortal form, dancing freely in the wind. His own body was weighed down by plate and leather. The Archdruid was not fond of his choice of attire, but what did his colleagues know of war? They tangled with trees. He broke steel. “This is not over. No, far from it.” He spit into the bloody dirt to his right. “I’ve not been with you long, my friends,” he looked to his colleagues. Some wore similar plate like himself, but many others were adorned in strange garbs- some wore twigs. Peculiar men, but they fought viciously in the name of September. These were those that knew their plight may end with dust and bone. But they stood with their Lord through thick and thin, never faltering, never wavering. “But I know war, and I know my Lord.” “You’re learning, you mean,” piped up a tribal looking servant of September. One of the most devote, he’d sacrificed his name and honor by abandoning his home and kin to lay waste to the lands he once held dear in the name of September. A man like him would live to see his name outlast the ruins of cities. But despite that, the speaking figure could not quite recall his name. “If the Descendants are Sheep, then we are Shepherds. Guides, perhaps. Perhaps you believe you’re fighting in the name of the Prince. Perhaps you believe you’re watering his lands in the blood of the misguided.” His hand was shaking. Post battle jitters. They shook the hilt of the blade he held as he cleaned the metal of it with a torn up and dirty cloth, smearing the clothing with brown and red. “But this- this isn’t worthy of the Prince. The one who has brought desolation to those that once took haven in these lands long before us. The one who shattered the forces of Man with a snap of his fingers. No, this is not worthy.” Up the steep incline of the forested floor he strode, rising above the plethora of men and beasts to look down upon them. An eerie silence filled the air, beaten only by the cracking of flame and cries of the fallen, biting the ears of those gathered with a dreadful symphony of death. He allowed it to sit as it was, acknowledging the dread that surrounded them until new bloods to the Wildwoods began to squirm where they stood. “You seek to spread the Will of our Prince. And so you shall. Not with guidance to those that are lost, but by punishment. Not with burning of crops or banditting roads, but by slaughter. We are not Shepherds. We are not those who will quiver beneath our Prince’s might as he faces down the Sheep. Let us bring death. Let us bring the Wrath of the September Prince.” He looked to the lands around the Cloud Temple, adjacent to the Wild woods where the Prince began his campaign. This was where their Lord began. These were the lands of Elves, Humans, Orcs, and Halflings. They enjoyed peace as the Prince moved to more distant lands in search of conquest. But the Wrath of September would return, with Heralds of War at his heels.

Qin-Zhihui signs.

no

With the founding of a new land and rise of the Qin Dynasty, the Hou-zi people require structure to build upon. That structure begins with the bloods that once coexisted for the betterment of the Hou-zi people. After our lands slowly decayed and our people scattered, many of the bloodlines that once aided Hou-Shen and previous Lords of the Council of Chi were lost and left to their own devices. The Council of Chi seeks them, and new families, out. These bloodlines are to begin their travel to the City of Jade with haste, bringing with them whatever they can carry. Upon their return, these families will be given free residence with the City’s walls, spots amongst the Huangdi’s temporary court, and the option to aid in rebuilding Hou-zi society. It is the duty of the Hou-zi people to join together in the glory of Hou-Shen. Send word to the Huangdi immediately. OF THE STATE OF QIN HUANGDI QIN-ZHIHUI, THE REFORMER

Not sure I understand how this is risky. "Ah, look, a floating bear was what made this Druid more magical, let's go kill the bear." How you gonna find some floating bear to kill if it can only be killed in its corporeal form- which can only be found through an event line. Furthermore, I don't see why you require an actual mechanical power. In religion, one can say they were blessed by a patron without actually having some magical **** happen to them. But, they require a Druid to do so- Not very interactive if only a Druid can summon them. Even if someone gets all buddy buddy with a Druid, the most they could do is watch, as I have complete doubt Mani would be played as anything more than Druid friends. Enemies sure as hell won't be able to kill them, as, let's be honest- this server is super OOC oriented, and no spook is going to be able to pretend long enough that a clique will let them see some God thing. I'm all for these interactions, mind you. I just think that 1. they shouldn't be confined to Druid led groups and 2. blessings don't need to be actual powers

"i am monkey man" says a houzi

IC information Name: Athlin Race: Mali'aheral Nation: Dominion Age: 100 Experience: Former officer of the Sirame, Immortal of the Virarim, Chi manipulator, plenty of commanding experience OOC information Ign: arakrsptec Timezone: MT Discord: arak#0606

“You forget yourself, Irrin. You are only an upjumped soldier. Do not speak for our King.” “I have not worn armor in an incredibly long time.” Athlin glanced over his appearance in a smoothed and polished piece of glass. Old scars ran along his arms, tattoos up his chest, and Uruk brands along his back, each telling a tale long past. He clasped the silver armor on piece by piece, covering the marks behind the straight laced suit of a new future. Elves and Humans chatted in the midst of the square, surrounding the fountain with sounds of both merry and discord. They ignored him for the most part as he took to stepping around each separate group. He travelled along the stone paths to the gate. With the King asleep- or simply not in need of the guard’s service- Athlin was free to do as he wished. At a jog, he ran into the towering trees and forage of the Forest surrounding Caras Eldar, setting a brisk face for a brief session of training. A scream caused his pace to falter; another shook him into a run in source of the commotion. It took what seemed like no time to come upon the scene. Crimson stained the green of the forest floor, its slowly growing stream given strength the body of an Elfless strewn against the dirt at an awkward angle. Her lifeless eyes looked upon the face of another. A smaller Elf, she was shaking, grabbing at her friend’s cold form. Another was there as well- this one searching the body for loot. As Athlin approached, the man’s hand reached for a bloody axe- but the Virarim’s spear against his throat froze him in place. “Now, now, we can talk th-” the Adunians voice ended as the spear jutted forward, splitting through his neck and spilling blood to the floor. The body followed, slowly crumpling and falling across that of its victim. Striding back into the city with an Elfless behind him, Athlin offered a glance back to a small trail of smoke finding its way through the intertwining laces of the treeline. He carried with him a bloody spear and a bloodier head. With Uruk slaughtering and enslaving on the border, taint in the streets, and the introduction of a new, worthy King, the newly risen Immortal’s path of blood had begun. The Elves would be protected. ---------------------------------------------------- OOC: Athlin is one of my main characters that I’ve been neglecting to play. After playing with different playerbases, I’ve decided to join the Elves once again. This post is just an introduction to what’s to come as I try to expand Athlin’s role.

Title says it all. I'm going to Mexico this Friday and plan to do some reading on the beach. However, I just finished a series, and am in need of another! Give me names of your favorites! Right now I'm in the mood for fantasy books, but I'll take anything. Hell, give me descriptions if you're passionate about your literature. Thanks ?

I ain't arguing about whether it should happen or not, just wanna note that this isn't an antagonistic event imo. This event doesn't lead to RP between you and the Orcs if they don't know where the event is taking place, and thus don't know who's killing Lak. So it won't lead to anything if they don't know who to hunt or fight. It just... doesn't do anything. Again, not arguing for or against it, it's just not an antagonist event imo

This. I still don't get the point of Ferals. I've had enough creatures or magic users screeching about protecting nature or whatever. I don't see a use for another creature.

Addressing how the purpose is to protect nature and yadayada. 1. If their creation was to protect nature, and yada Aspects blah blah blah, why would they be able to learn magics such as Voidal, even if in their Descendant form? Voidal magic apparently affects nature negatively, while magics such as Necromancy completely defy nature by raising the dead. I don't get why there would be nothing to prevent learning these if it goes against their purpose. 2. Do we really need another "get away from nature grrr!" thing? I saw that it's supposed to be a more violent protection, but many current Druids are violent as hell and will ******* strangle anyone with their roots. So why are these needed? It's the same thing, different magical creature. (I get the lore how it's Morea's use, but this just seems pointless)

A jobless Elf curiously looks for more information. He frowns and begins asking around.

some shitty daemon or aengul or some **** decides to want to take over the descendants and gets a bunch of minions (depicted as zombies and such) to attack. the descendants must unite to save the world!!

can we ban food so the weak dont make the voyage