_Sug

A Wicked Creature's Return Fire did find escape from the maw of one Nephilim as he strode through the cinders and ash of the purging. His hands guiding serpent-like spiraling pillars of flame in his wake as he laughed with tears running down his face, soon to evaporate from the heat of his scales and the environment. "BURNNNNNNNN!" Screamed he the Scorched of the Titan as he hummed a sad tune to himself in his work. Yet, there was more to do, more to accomplish, more to incinerate, more to rebuild. Balthazar had returned.

[!] Cold was the night that a lone horseman strode through the battlefield, his eyes looking over those 'saved' mortal souls who had been bestowed the slumber of the One, granted unification with the divine earth underfoot, some slain by his blade and others by those of his comrades. Yet, within stride of steed did pause the lordling, so carved into faith by ritualistic means, whilst pale blue orbs reached gaze outwards into the night as the sounds of the dead mourned and the rabid struggling torture of the evening waned into silence. The man had sinned this day, he had sinned a few days prior, yet within his heart he knew he would sin again, however this night held feeling of accomplishment, of retribution even...He was wretched now as he walked through the darkness of the battlefield surveying and feeling the carnage left by man beneath his boots.

One St. Jude of Cyranium and Petrus smiles at the works of the Papal Bull.

From a small woodlands near Savoyard lands, the Hound of Daeland, Malcolm Douglas smiles at the Waldenian prosperity of their peoples and made the decision that he will support his Waldenian brethren as their moot transpires. Thus, he began off on his journey to make it to the moot later in the day upon completing the readings of the invitation.

A look at Daelish, Savoy, and Orenian forces meeting on the battlefield.

(Just reposting this for further emphasis on our responsibility so people have to read it twice Tent, well worded.)

Somewhere in the highlands, the Daelish stir.

Allow me to expand as this was written quickly. Even if this kind of stuff isn't reported openly, those who participate in the neglect or action of these aforementioned behaviors, remember there are some of us here who do have connections to federal agencies, we can and will do something about it. Think before you act.

It's time to make a legitimate safety team away from the administration with the power to remove players that are dangerous to this community. If it means that some members of our community who are active in the actual REAL WORLD legal system have to step up, so be it.

Into Quiet, So Was the End. For, it was not so long ago that the young boy-hexer has seen one Job of Adria meet his end. Contemplation over the days events crept into his forlorn mind as the boy had only taken the life of best before, not man, nor even witnessed the folly of life's demise. Thus, did the young boy venture into the cathedral in the center of Luciano and allowed knees to hit the ground beneath the pew he had situated himself in. He knew Job of Adria to be religious by nature and although he himself could find no GOD within his line of work, nor in his heart, for the first time he prayed, prayed for one Job of Adria, prayed into the quiet, so was the end. So did he continue to live in his own personal hell on earth, envious of Job's slumber. Envious of quiet.

Me when these commissions opened.

"Druidism!" said a Druid. "Druidism..." Said an Azdrazi. "LoTC..." Said a Skygod.

St. Jude of Cy., Doctor of the Church and Patron Saint of Scholastics, Authors, and Monasteries offers a smile at the writings of one GOD-fearing and well-written woman's viewpoints on the duality of mankind, and more specifically the nature of women of whom are the forgotten backbone in leading a proper life in the faith. "Deus Vult." Said the warrior-monk of the schism from his small and humble cottage-abbey in the skies.

@Milenkhov I'll never make you mad daddy.

Thoughts on making the players do a draft of the destruction build then presenting it to the WT/Build Team to perform tweaks and small alterations if needed? If it's shite it's shite and deny the "heist" as it would have to be shown before hand in an application with screenshots and the sort?

The Nephilim Balthazar takes a moment to read the missive from his small shelter in the hills, surrounded by beautiful blue lagoons and trees of palm, did the beast walk whilst his reptilian eyes scanned the parchment in his pale hands. At the conclusion of the reading, the azdrazi gave a nod and placed it away, perhaps to reread at another time.

Drop the @ of the pedo.

Divided Between Faith and Father _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ For it was not upon the shoulders of one GOD-fearing nephilim to decide the sway of GOD's hand upon the actions of others, it was upon himself to hold forth faith in the old church, the one that required no temple nor gold, silver or blessed waters, all but pure faith seemingly blinded by what it was to be mortal. He was traditional in his ways, having walked the streets of Petrus and visited many holy sites throughout the history of mankind. He was old, yet immortal and had sinned to become such. Yet, he was baptized. Redeemed in the waters of rebirth within Estermeadow in Athera to follow GOD and serve him even if visitation to cathedrals and monasteries was not something he indulged. Balthazar knew that conflict would come and that those who bore the cross, much like he, would come to arms against each other. He wore the Lorraine upon his garb, hung rosary from belt, and prayed in the morning, afternoon, and evening for the souls of the faithfully departed. However, within him was a GOD fearing man one that did not fear his church but feared damnation, something his FATHER the Titan saved him from. GOD as he knew it was replaced as he was reborn from man to drake, from mortal to immortal. It was then, that a choice was made. IT was his choice as it had always been, his choice to decide, his time to finally walk towards Asioth. He would fight his brothers in faith, serve his brothers anew, and dispatch mortal men who sought to keep the world from his FATHER's embrace. This, at his core did hurt the newborn azdrazi, yet one Balthazar the Scorched knew that the time was nigh so he prayed, a prayer for all, a prayer for those he had yet to cut down and render flesh to nothing but entrails of clot covered skin and steaming miasma from the fires he would burn them with. It was but the beginning, there was no Skies for him. It was something he came to terms with long ago. So, he prayed for others and not himself and stood from the pew he was knelt in and with a close of the GOOD WORD. He left to seek his FATHER for council. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________

*smirks*

Whatever replaces the bird system ^ I'm already kinda one foot out the door on this server so idc either way but Joel I think a good thing to think about would be perhaps a more plugin-based NPC system like FRP has but that would require someone with Dewper's Team's plugin knowledge, perhaps some form of outsourcing or brief hiring of a coder could be a solution to help find a medium between plugin vs rp and create that little niche to fill both the desires that the playerbase seems to have on birds atm? o7

Farewell Kinsman, Until His Flame Engulfs. ~A depiction of the Nephilim Balthazar, Scorched of Azdromoth with his son and soon to be herald Kassian Nullivari encountering a kinsman out in the desert badlands. Circa. Unknown.~ [!] Perhaps it was the note in which the Inquisitor Eternal had left for him, brief yet comforting in its welcome to the fold as the new nephilim trudged onwards with his son clad in armour behind him. Perhaps it was an understanding of the corruption which one Eluitholnear, the Inquisitor Eternal battled daily that the newborn understood all too well. Through distracted mind raced thoughts of how he could have acted as potential sanctuary and salvation to his zeymah. For it was the duty of his old self, that accursed self, that tortured self, that corrupted self... That damned self of Thalon Nullivari whom was no more and replaced by the Nephilim Balthazar's duty to act as guide for these matters as he once was corrupted far more than mortal man now could imagine, save but two of his past brothers-in-arms that still rotted away on the realm hiding from he who once corrupted his Father. Perhaps it was him having his family of which he had always dreamed of now, which caught him in a momentary pause as feet ceased to move underway and his son slammed into the back of his armor with a grunt, looking towards his father with inquisitive eyes. Balthazar reared head where ash fell from the crown of Maerec, The Scorched that rested idly upon blonde hair and where ash and cinder fell, only but bone white horns remained where hair once was and the Nephilim released a roar of flame into the canyon in rage. He was once necromancer in ages past, he was once undead before then, now redeemed by his old general and Father, his hatred for his old kinsmen swelled within him and he knew what he had to do. He had to embrace the thing he ran from, the past thing he was, yet this time wield his experience and knowledge to avenge his zeymah, his brother in the Inquisitor Eternal, his brother Eluitholnear. "I will come for them. I will hunt them. I will used damned artifacts to torture them and their families. I will slaughter them in the name of my fallen Inquisitor." Spat forth the words of Balthazar, only to be followed by: "Farewell, Inquisitor. Farewell kinsman, until his flame engulfs. I shall avenge you until that day occurs and educate our brothers and sisters on the forces they face as I was once one of them who brought you to stone. We will use all their knowledge against them. Rest well. I envy you, but my work, your work, is not yet done."