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About KosherZombie

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    Gold Miner
  • Birthday 09/13/1998

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  2. KosherZombie


    The iron is cold and suffocating Fear shakes your soul For what? For naught? No one deserves this You did this to yourself A prison of your own making You reach and claw at your throat He won’t let go You won’t let go You are alone In a prison of your own making The walls are closing in Extinguishing The light What a tragedy To be alone
  3. KosherZombie


    TRAGEDY You know to whom I write. It is you. With the lonely eyes, it is you, on the other side of the wall. Cold and alone. I speak to you. The tragedy is not your disgrace. It is not your treachery. It is not your blood. No, the tragedy is that you are alone. Unsheathed blades held by lost souls staring across trodden fields, through flame and stone, wondering for what you stand. For who? Do you doubt yourselves, standing in the valley, no righteous sunlight reaching your depths? Only the pagan flames, misguided, undelivered, unworthy of your trust, leading you deeper, deeper into the cave, from which there may be no escape. Let the scent of fresh air reach you. Let a feeble glimpse of sunlight glance against your pauldrons. For know this yet today, that while you may not stand for me, I stand for you. But it will not be enough. I am not enough. It is only a taste. I cannot offer deliverance. I offer only a hand. Your brothers hand. To pull you from the depths. To offer a future basked in Godly light. To offer a future of brotherhood, of friendship, like we had once. The tragedy is what has been lost. But tragedy is not yet despair. Hear me now. You alone can take my hand. You alone. H A. Horatii Published by the Horatii Clan 8th of Sigismund’s End, 1741
  4. The Red River I slept in a field by the river The red river And I waited for someone to wake me I waited for you But you never came So I woke when the river flooded Water up to my neck I am drowning The water is thick and black Like blood Your blood
  5. KosherZombie


    TREACHERY You grant me your excuses. You justify your injustice. From your whispers come mistrust, the seeds of violence planted, and fertilized with the waters of the red river. I care little for your reasons, and only for your actions, so I state this truth but once. Your opportunism, your greed, your powerlust, your treachery - it all shall lead no place good. When mankind faces together against the world, it is their responsibility to retain their union. It is your treachery and your disgrace to disrupt your union. You share in the treachery of the courlanders against the fifth, and the Santegians against the sixth. You are the rebels of norland against the seventh. And you are worse than Adrian de Sarkozic who fought with dwarves against the eight. Much worse. When will you learn? Centuries of infighting have taught that there is only one solution. Treachery. And you, stupid and shortsighted, lustful and godless, you perpetuate this endless decay. But I thought the grandfather clock had swung, to swing back again in greatness and goodness. But I was wrong, for we’ve not yet struck midnight, and the dawn is long away. The darkest of the night is yet to come. But it shall be you who finds themselves alone without the godly light. It shall be you beside the barbarian hordes, when hunger strikes. And as they find themselves alone, it shall be you who first they consume, incestual sustenance for their endless lust for violence. This is your fate. And you deserve it. For there is doubt in my mind that it will be worth our while to save you. You will never learn, treacherous. Treachery. Disgrace. I turn my back to thee, and expose my wound. I bleed for thee. When you find yourself alone in the night, think of me. And know that I am without sympathy to your cause. And that to me is the saddest thing about it. I write not as a scholar or a leader. I am just an angry old man. H. A. Horatii Published by the Horatii Clan 7th of the Sun’s Smile, 1741
  6. Arthos pokes pierce with a stick, hoping he wakes up. @Sporan
  7. KosherZombie

    What future?

    What future? Two paths diverge before us. Our right hand, our sword hand, to war, for blood, for vengeance. For pride. Darkness. The blade shall decide our fate. Ancient alliances broken. Unforgiven. And yet even as we hold the knives to each other's throats, without a single blow dealt, we already bleed. Our arms are cut defensively. Just as we peek out from our holes, in frantic hopes of peace, following the last blundersome years of civil war, we once more are spurred to action. This is the path we are on. The dark, and hopeless path. The inevitable cycle. The voiceless pattern. For continuing on this path, we will find our divided and weak, subject to the manipulation of and whims of the godless creatures of Arcas. Our left hand, useless and clumsy, to wave across the chasm, and extend to brethren. But what future rests there? Armistice? Reunification? Surrender? I see none, with the current administration, and their enemies. The world is changing, and that is nearly inevitably a bloody affair. There is nothing cordial, nothing brotherly about this change, for it is predicated on fear and hatred, lust and ambition. The lines are drawn the stage is set. But it has not been well acted. Perhaps but for a change of cast we were close. The inevitable. And yet those students of history like myself know that either left or right shall lead us to the same end. Imperium shall rise, and it shall be mighty again. So those of you who take the path of war, ask yourself what truly you fight for? A change in leadership? A new era? You will have the decay brought forth by division, and eventually a union built in violence and tyranny. Baptized in blood. Your own blood. And your sons will look upon your memory. And they shall think, “Why did we do this.” But when push comes to shove, and blades come out, it will have been you who educated them, and they will replicate your actions, and so the cycle shall continue. Nothing will change. Nothing ever changes. Nothing except the man in the office. I for one believed in something better. I still do. H. A. Horatii Published by the Horatii Clan The Eleventh of Grand Harvest, 1741
  8. KosherZombie


    Disgrace My disappointment in mankind spreads from the high imperial offices in helena to the pagan halls in Morsgrad. In the pagan halls where your leaders spread lies and trade in fear, you chisel away at union and cooperation, through devices of fear. In the high imperial offices where you strike at weak points to shatter your enemies, like a coal miner swings his pick, and breaks and burns the coal. You lack substance, the both of you. Those Morsgradians who fight for hate, motivated by the opportunism provided by the enemies of mankind. Your war cry, death to imperium, death to Haense. Your claims of peace and justice. Hypocrisy and lies. You are vile. And yet I can hardly stand by my own empire or my own kingdom, when the empire subjugates itself to the antiquated methods of its predecessors, ushering onward with intrigue and plots, seeking an unwarranted, unwon, and undeserved world supremacy. You abuse the trust mankind places in the imperial office for your own fantasies of greatness. You disgust me. Therein lies the disgrace. The leaders of mankind in the era are horrific, spineless, undeserving, and ungodly. You scrap and you fiend in the void of power left by your predecessors. And that is precisely where you will find yourself when your inevitable demise reaches you. In the void. None of you deserve the faith your people have invested in you. You disgrace our species with your childish feuds, like brothers fighting for a toy, with no mother to drag you apart. Iblees driven, blind, disgrace. You forget yourselves. You damn yourselves. You ring the bells of division, but hide your eyes, lest you see what you have wrought, the alliance you have broken, the friendships you have ended, and the brothers you have killed. I write not as a scholar. I write not as a leader. I am only a sad old man. H. A. Horatii Published by the Horatii Clan 9th of the Grand Harvest. 1741
  9. “Oh look, pertinaxi is back.” Said Wilhelm from the seven skies. The old monarch and loyal servant held a detached uncertainty in his eyes, perhaps even a little hope. “That era ended once in horror, and through the devices of power, has today been restored in fear.” He puffed on his joint. “Hrm.”
  10. “He writes of communication,” muses a curonian scholar. “The feudal order is restored, and history binds de Evreux to Eastmark. The realm is safe and at last it is stable. My faith remains that stability will not be overturned by ambition.”
  11. Wilhelm doesn’t know the man, but he offers the knight a blunt anyway, when he arrives in the seven skies.
  12. Add in five man raids on a five day cooldown, and include two man banditry no cooldown, but continued harassment will lead to conflict blacklist. Ez fix make everyone happy. For years I’ve been on the side of increasing regulation on PVP, because there was a time when glitching, meme rp, and operating on the edge of the rules in aggressive roleplay killing raiding was allowed. Moderation let things slide, which really reduced the fun of lotc. for the first time since before axios, I’m on the side of decreasing regulation. There’s no reward for building an army. There’s nothing to do with your army in peacetime. Banditry is no longer a threat. These conflict rules reduce dynamic roleplay, favoring to protect slice of life rp, and totally alienate any form of military and conflict roleplay. Military and conflict roleplay have driven this server since its inception, and these days now that staff have effectively removed conflict altogether, lotc is just boring. all the current changes are flat out overcompensation. Sorry for **** grammar I had like five minutes and typed this out on my phone.
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