_Sug

*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."

"Piety. Sanctity. Chastity... It has been long since I have cut down the flock of GOD's servants on the world. Perhaps, the skies will echo with laughter down upon their mortal souls when they arrive and heckle them for their failures." Mused one Azdrazi, Balthazar to his sister Helinathe. @JoanOfArc

~A depiction of the nephilim Balthazar pleading for gift once given, to be returned for moments of dire need.~ [!] High favor was naught with his father, knew him one once corrupted as he. Yet, knowledge of the past was with the duo and a history through chains did bond them deeper as kin once more. The nephilim sought forth pilgrimage into lands of ash and cinder, not with hatred for the news in which his dear sister, fellow cannonist, and Warden presented within her missive upon doings of those garbed in silk cloth, but one more so emotions of glee and torment which danced in the mind of the redeemed. There were only two left. Two who knew of what he once was in pure, and held witness to the genocide once wrought forth through him as instrument upon the lands of mortality, wielding staff of tainted gold and summoning armies of the damned and forlorn. One was unnamed, and the other was his FATHER, Azdromoth. Thalon, a lord of the Old Dark and Undead of Iblees was no more, yet to his father he was but a rabid dog, chained back and malnourished in what he was shaped into. Perhaps it was purpose for scorched to withhold himself from pleasures of past. To grasp forth on tongues of dying men and place heel upon forehead so he could pull forth the tongues out like rope as they perished upon the rot from his hands. To slaughter any who stood in way of his goal, woman, man, or child, he cared for no pleasantry in dispatching them to skies above. However, Balthazar was redeemed but still not tamed forth by his peers. Perhaps Elu, Helinathe, Ri'Haskir, and Zahkriikyzer knew he was struggling to connect with his new draconic beast within his mind, where remnants of his Daeva, Wight, and Undead selves resided within but schizophrenic whispers that came and went like autumn breeze, perhaps he was but a tool for them and his father to unleash upon the realm. As he entered his FATHER'S empty halls, the voice of the nephilim cut through air and a single hand raised forth to plead to his father of whom he once granted the weapon Iblees' Gift, one used to call forth souls to the Betrayer, now within the grasp of his Father to keep out of mortal hands. "Father... I need it back. Unleash me to protect our family. Unleash me like you did in times of yore. Unleash me to torture. Unleash me to slaughter. You were once my General, now my father. I will defend this HOUSE, this TEMPLE of the World from the clutches of the corrupt of soul and mind." Perhaps there was answer, perhaps not. Yet, that was for the Church to soon discover, an old enemy and protector of their peoples was to be met on the fields of battle, immortally redeemed versus immortal souls.

^ Hit the nail right on the head. I haven't used this since the new rewrite with its limitations and requirements. Please remove both and go to the one slot.

It was hard being judge, jury, and executioner within the Silver Council of Haelun'or, yet when it came to impures. Thalon Nullivari, Okarir'tir of the Silver State, was good at all three.

"Radiant is the Black Sun." Commented a lone man as he looked out towards the eastern waters which surrounded the continent.

I just wanna rp again man.... Big +1

So wandered the men and women of Widukind, through thistle and brush did this conclave move deeper into the wilderwoods of the continent. Summoning forth beasts and unholy depths of realms far forlorn. For they held no belief in the Aspects nor any divine beings. They knew the tree was only the beginning, they knew the Old Oak was to reveal itself soon and the news of this tree was but an omen of one root which had made itself visible from the eternal web. There did they remain within the cover of the trees, ready to find those who sought to unhinge the cycle. [The following is not made available in Rp, any form of metagaming will be directed to the appropriate staff teams] So did the Viper, deemed by the Old Oak as the Blood of the Widu, Anagenimenos cultivate the flock and bring forth more and more supporting the cycle of the wheel. He knew the druii feared what they did not know, he understood their stance and their passion for peace. Yet, THEY whom cultivated the wheel understood that the real nature of the world was chaos. The Aspects of whom the Order so adored were merely hindering the true raw being of nature. They held no reign over it, as they were but idols lacking any true identity or domain, they but existed in this one. So, did the group grow their numbers and prepare for the coming days.

Through desolate fields of infernal cinder and treachery did ride forth upon steed, one Scorched of the Titan. He took pause upon crease of knoll and released a deep breath after sharing some words with the Inquisitor and rasped forth. "Imprecation be placed upon any whom befall the blade of the Inquisitor."

A dead vampyre smiles within the seven skies. For it was not but long ago that he looked into those pale crystalline eyes of one Valerica Tathvir and saw pain he sought to redeem. Yet, due to what he was, he could not find it in himself to repair the wounds left by another. So, he took the hand of a young boy, one who could've been their own and moved off into the bright lights and rolling plains of the afterlife, sure she would heal in time as she once did before.

His power as a writer grows, glad to be here to see the development before he turns into an LT

"You may flee, yet be labeled fugitive. You may run, and be labeled coward. You may change, and be considered grown. You may hide, and be labeled gone. Yet, you may change allegiance but always be labeled friends of mine." ~.~ Wrote the Okarir'tir of Haelunor in a brief, yet understanding manner. For, he whom was once-lost understood this feeling of foul taste upon palate in regard to the mechanisms of government. Politics and unhappiness often came hand in hand to those of Silver, with that one Thalon Nullivari had seen since the Silver State was conceptualized once more in long continents past. He was not angry, nor vengeful at these words of the departure of the duo of kin, but almost filled with excitement for their journeys to come as when he left home he was able to experience the world. In his mind he saw departure as a way of growth of the self and lamented those days of when he once was Necromancer, Shade, Mystic, Dark Shaman, Blood Mage, and most of all Undead of Iblees, all byproducts of leaving home for him, yet somewhere in the corner of his mind, he knew the forlorn women would be well and not stray from morality as he did. He would be there to ensure that they strayed not and were protected.

Decisions A depiction of the Okarir'tir, Thalon Nullivari mulling over documents. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Cold. Cold was the morning which befell the Silver State. Nay in temperature, but in atmosphere of the populace. The divide which these actions caused was apparent to the public, many spoke of it within their homes and others out within the streets of the Silver State. Yet, this was not just a divide between the general public, it was an internal divide that was struck within the mind of the Okarir'tir, High Justicar of the Silver State and sworn servant of her peoples. What he once was in the past hissed forth within his mind, words of venom, it had been some time since he had seen life depart, and something within him continued to pull at his core almost as if a yearning to see it come to fruition. He had dispatched souls from the world for less, passed judgement on many even long before his position as justicar. However, this was not but mere trial, it involved friends of his family. The Nullivari are nay those to take threats to their way of life lightly, that which they struggled to obtain placed in a position of compromise by one who once shared bed with the brother of the Okarir'tir. Thus, the man paced back and forth with furrowed brows as the actions of the women had placed him in a personal position of compromise. Punishment had to be dealt, he had considered many routes on how to go about the trial but none came to mind as appropriate. Then, the door opened and Thalon Nullivari slumped into his arm chair, pale gaze floating over to a cloaked individual whilst three digits splayed forth to cover his maw as to lightly muffle his words as those under his employ shuffled about the office within his home, preparing documents and legislation to use in the trial which was to come. Words were exchanged and nods given, followed by a firm handshake as the cloaked man made his way out of the study. Law and order was to be maintained, and Thalon sought not the death of the young girl April, nor the close friend of his wife. He would find punishment. He would find their safety.

A certain man smiles at this great work born from the Silver State.

Man..... Freshly 22....... Man.... University done..... Two Degrees.... Real world approaching..... Mineman. Man.

Just posted that suggestion for the memes haha, well done with the schedule, looking forward to what the Admin Team has in store for the weekend.

Where is the Cappy or Urasept interview? Or, can y'all try to get an interview with the OG two owners of the server? Would be neat. :( been 10 years huh... Love Shift though, neat little idea.

"Worship and be rewarded Ye who find faith in fires which blaze and consume the soul." [.] A depiction of a Knight of the Tir riding on his way to the foundations of a keep under construction on the Isle of Silver. As letter was read and words pondered upon, did lone knight bring halt to stag on which he rode upon towards destination of some unknown elven fortress being fortified. The pause of his movements and those of his companion caused clanks to release into the wind as he looked upon such building before him. A raspy breath released from one Thalon Nullivari, of noble House Nullivari, Okarir'tir of Haelunor and Dragon Knight of Azdomoth, Ordained. "We come to find reliance in others in this turbulent time. We find necessity in those around us to continue such a mission eternal. For our worship and work towards the preservation of the Eternal Hoard may be hindered, yet never broken. Find not lapses in faith brother, find duty through trial. We will speak soon, for when we reunite once more it will be in jubilee and drink, for it has been long since our conglomerate has been together. Forge onwards Zeymah, 'Dreh ni lost hin yolos kos evenaar.'" Spoke forth the wretched voice of the Scorched Herald into the wind before penning his words into a response from atop mounted steed. Then, did iron-plated heels dig into hide as the pair moved forth towards their destination.

It's quicccccck.

Time to make Paul an Azdrazi