ForeverGinger

Sa'vi Lord-Of-The-Craftians

Before I start what I hope doesn't become a giant mess, I want to say that I was warned against posting this. I was told that I would be ignored. I was warned that I would be hated for this.

I'll start off plain and simple. The Kha', both IC and OOCly, have been severely neglected. I admit, we are a minority on the server, but we are still a playerbase, however small. We deserve at least the tiniest amount of respect. GMs, frankly your behavior towards us has been borderline appalling. You refuse to create a new plot for us, yet you do nothing in helping us find a new home. Select individuals use privileges to cling to inactive plots, denying us a chance to begin anew. You refuse to ever acknowledge us when we bring the issue up. And yet, despite all this, we are expected to grow our playerbase.

The Kha' need a home. Not a house, a home. We are currently living in a house. A house is temporary. A house is a roof without walls. A house will not last. A home is something to take pride in. A home is more than whatever tiny ghetto we occupy, clinging to life alongside larger groups. A home is something that is ours. A home is something that brings players to us. A home will help us grow.

Now, our once proud civilization has been shattered. We have fantastic, well written lore, an engaging religion and magic system, and one of the friendliest group of players I have met. We could grow, if only we were given the chance, but we are not being given that chance.

What I am trying to do with this post is bring attention to our issue. If something is not done soon, the Kha' will wither and die. Heck, we're already halfway there. GMs, we are players, are we not? We deserve respect, do we not? We need someone to take charge and do something for us.

Yours Truly,

ForeverGinger

The blazing sun beats down upon the desert from its perch in the empty blue sky. A lone Kha' struggles through the sands, leaning heavily on his trident. Each step is an ordeal, leeching more and more strength from his battered, wasted form.

The figure stumbles as he climbs the dunes, his scorched, scarred paws sinking deep into the shifting terrain. His satchel falls undone and with a faint thud, a gourd of water spills out onto the sands. The small puddle sinks into the greedy sands, leaving nothing behind. A weak moan escapes the Kha's mouth as he pounds the desert floor in frustration.

"Muuna! Ketzawl haws need awf yawr strawngth! Munna, Ketzawl weel die een thaw deesawrt weethawt yaw! Muuna..."

His voice trails off as he jams his three-pronged trident into the floor of the desert, praying with his last conscious breath to Metztli...

Praying for rescue...

Praying to survive...

Edit: Changed name thanks to an awesome suggestion from an equally awesome friend!

A note appears, pinned onto Perdric's back. It reads:

"Please excuse ForeverGinger, for he is very tired at the time of writing this post and prone to making mistakes. Do not hate him, for you see he is very busy fighting crime as his vigilante crime-fighting alter ego Ginger Man."

*Edit-Date has been fixed

A very filthy Perdric Wanderwine strides through Gimblewood, dust and dirt trailing in his wake. The tiny Halfling stands in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of the town and begins to speak.

"Cen I gits yer 'ttention mista's an' misses? I gots a pretteh serious 'nnouncement! I think I've discovered wot's causin' all th' earth wiggles!"

Several townsfolk look up from their business to watch the young Halfling address the crowd that has slowly began to form around him.

"So, I wus enjoyin' me third breakfast t'day when me floor caved in! I tumbled from me favorite chair down an' down deep inta' the earth! When I got up, I wus in a big ol' hole! I 'splored around an' discovered sumthin'! There'r gian' caved undah Gimblewood!"

At this announcement, the now large crowd lets out a collective gasp! Caves under Gimblewood? How strange!

"I'm gonnah lead an expydition down int' the tunnels undah' th' town! Now, I gotta ask ye not t' go diggin' around, cuz ye may upset th' grounds an' cause a cave in! We're gonna do this right an' propper! Now, cen I git some volunteers t' 'elp me go 'splore there caves?"

((Guys, it's finally time! We are going to discover the source of the earthquakes that have been plaguing Gimblewood! Please RP you're willingness to travel and tune in:

May 3nd at 3:00 pm EST

outside the Mill to join in the fun! 

((Helllooooo nightmare fuel...))

Many pieces of parchment are hung about the Cloud Temple. While the handwriting is atrocious and many words are misspelled, you believe you can make out an interesting message:

Sorry fer bothering anyone who mite be readin, but I is a Halfling who is lookin for a leth  leatha leather saddle. This aint a rig regulu normal saddle, it's actually of me own desine. The planns look like this!

So, if'n eny anyone thinks they cen make this saddle, please wright b'low here to tell mee, an' dont ask wut its fer! Tha's a seeecret! Also, I dont gots much Meenas, but I do gots lots and loads of trinkets and shinies and baubles fer payin'!

((Essentially, I am looking for a saddle for a bit of RP and can't find anyone to make/sell one! Seeing as Minas are against the Halfling Way, I am instead looking to trade items for it!))

"I'm Perdric Wanderwine, the fighter o' Boggles and finder o' caves. Bean climber an' Wolfspeaker, I live on th' Trail an' off th' trail, over tree an' under tree! I's th' talkin' pumpkin' an' 'pprentinced t' snow! I've eaten an' been eaten an' come out again jes fine!"

~Perdric Wanderwine

Perdric Wanderwine, also known as Per, Perry and Piggy, is the only current surviving member of the Wanderwine family. He is a male Halfling, about twenty one, and stands roughly two and a half feet tall. Perdric's hair is a startling orange and his eyes are, to quote, "kinda' bluey greyish". He tends to range a bit on the plumper side, with pale, easily burnable skin.

"I've never seen anyone act so friendly while being robbed! He even offered to help carry the loot back to the cave!"

~Biggun' Bandit

Per acts extremely cheery and is friendly to everyone, even people who have previously tried to kill him. He has a hard time accepting the bad in people, and is subsequently very naive and trusting. He is a bit superstitious and takes a lot of stock in old legends and tall tales. Perdric loves reading and writing and is often caught pursuing a book when bored. He is daring, excited to take chances and travel to new places. Perdric also has an unusual gift for burglary and enjoys the challenge of "borrowing" things from other, larger people.

"All'ys carry lot's o' stuff Perry, ye'll nevah know when ye'll need it..."

~Grampy Wanderwine

Perdric carries a satchel at his waist filled with various bits and bobs he has collected from his travels. He will often carry plants and reagents for healing when he can find them. However, Per always carries a small knife for chopping up plants and the like, a fist-sized bag filled with Redstone dust and his good luck talisman.

"I wanna be on everyone's side an' if'n I can't, then I'll jes be on me own side!"

~Perdric Wanderwine on international relations

Perdric is aligned mostly to Neutral Good. He will always do what he thinks is best and has developed a surprisingly accurate gut instinct. However, he can be mislead and lied to easily, so it may not be hard to convince him to do something. Per follows the wisdom of the Aspects of Nature, Cerridwin, Cernunnos and Nemiise. He believes the Pumpkin God, Knox is an aspect of Cerridwin, so he respects him as well. Perdric is a dedicated vegetarian and refuses to eat meat. In fact, the very smell of meat is enough to throw him off. He is very loyal to his friends and his home, Gimblewood as well as the Druidic Order. Per is a semi-skilled woodworker and is in the midst of self-taught healing.

"Why would I carry a weppin' when I could jes run away?"

~Perdric Wanderwine on gun control

Perdric carries no weapon aside from a small, impractical knife for cutting things that aren't alive. If attacked, Perdric would most likely run as fast as his stumpy little legs could carry him and hide in a nearby bush. If he has no way out, he always carries a small bag of Redstone dust that he throws at people in an attempt to temporarily blind them. The powder stings and burns for a short while, but may be washed or brushed off.

"Why would I 'amember things me brain wants me t' ferget?"

~Perdric Wanderwine

Perdric's first years were short and quite sad to tell. While the combined effects of shock and denial have left him clueless to his origin, what is written here tells the truth. Perdric was born in a small Halfling village out in the Wilds, His parents, Grampy and Bird Wanderwine settled in the Wilds of Athera and lived a happy, sheltered life. Perdric was born in the small burrow dug by his father Grampy and educated by his mother to the best of her ability. Seeing as neither of the Wanderwines were scholars, most of Per's education consisted of farming. His mother Bird did teach him to read and eventually write when he was around thriteen years of age.

Then, one night when the moon was dark and the stars hid their faces from view, Perdric's life changed. Wolves, hungry and lean from a harsh winter, attacked the Wanderwine's small burrow, smashing through windows and ramming the door in! Grampy tried to hold the beasts off with his shovel while his wife Bird bundled little Perdric up and tucked him away in the closet. She locked the door, leaving her precious son alone, telling him this was all a game of Hide and Seek!

Perdric stayed in the closet for days before finally being driven out by hunger and thirst. What was left of the burrow was not a pretty site. Per's house was trashed, with blood staining the walls and floor. His parents were gone...

Little Perdric didn't even consider the fact that his parents may have died! Somewhere in the back of his mind, the culmination of shock, grief and denial twisted his memory. He believes his parents are hiding somewhere, waiting for their son to come and find them...

No artwork for now! Maybe when I find out how to use a printer, I'll scan some drawings in! Feel free to PM me any drawing of Perdric you may have!

I changed the size to be more reasonable (ie. dog to horse) so they could be RPed with horses and pigs if you want to ride one!

​Perdric laughs as he realizes his attempt at starting new RP has transmogrificated into a discussion about Heff's considerable buttox!

((Anywho, feel free to roleplay earthquakes around Gimbewood, especially near the farms and Perdric's house *hint hint*))

Well, I kinda thought that this lore would not need any approval, but it's better to be safe than sorry! Also, there aren't ET creatures, they would just be something to stimulate RP like wolves and giraffes. And, who wouldn't wanna ride on a giant mole? It's the perfect Halfling mount (aside from pigs)!

Also, fixed the size! You guys were right, house sized is way to big!

An ancient, leather-bound book sits atop a crammed bookshelf in the Library of Gimblewood. Upon further inspection, you see the cover is marked with a title, written in a scrawling red hand:

Creatures of Fable

You flip through a few of the aged pages, many of them warped and running with ink,

unreadable. One of the sections seems interesting, and less damaged than the rest. It reads, in the same hand as the title:

       Long ago, in times long forgotten, when Halflings lived in burrows of stone and finger painted on the walls, there lived a creature as old as time itself, the Mole Beast! The Mole Beasts were rumored to be just that, giant moles, that lived in sprawling underground caverns they dug themselves! It is said that it was these great creatures that taught the Halflings the art of burrowing, which they adapted to move out of their nasty cave homes and into more proper, cozy burrows.

       These great furry beasts are much like your average, everyday, garden variety mole, except for their size and subsequent strength. They could not see, for generations of tunneling left them virtually blind, with a sever aversion to light. They were very shy, but had claws were like giant spades to shift dirt and smash rock! They feasted on massive amounts of veggies and gnawed on the roots of giant trees to feed themselves.

       The Ancient Halflings soon learned to tame these great beasts and rode them into battle against their foes! The brave Mole Riders, as they later came to be known as, would take great fishing rods and lash a plump pumpkin to the end, tantalizing the giant mole into following the Halfling's direction. Amazingly, the great moles seemed quite intelligent. They were extremely sensitive to earth vibrations, and could recognize their Rider's footsteps! One could potentially call a mole to your side with a few loud stomps!

You smirk as you close the book. Obviously, most of this is pure fantasy. Honestly, Cave Halfings? Animals teaching burrowing? Finger painting? Ridiculous! However... Giant moles? Maybe this part is not quite so whimsical. Mayhaps giant moles do exist. That would explain quite a few things...

(OOC Things)

Giant moles are just that... giant moles. They are strong enough to crush rock and can range from large dog to small horse sized. They can be ridden or kept as pets, as long as you can RP them properly and have plenty of vegetables!

They are patient and slow creatures that are blind and despise sunlight. Excessive light, such as sunlight, may cause them to "freak out" and panic. They would never willingly expose themselves to sunlight, but a skilled Druid may be able to coax them out for short periods of time.

Moles, when tame, may be taught to respond to commands like an intelligent dog. However, as the moles are blind and hard of hearing, commands are often given through patterns of stomping, as the creatures can sense the vibrations in the earth.

Perdric waddles over to the table that the magic fortune-teller lady is sitting at and cranes his neck backwards to peer at her face, "Miss, wot's me future look like? Will I evah finish me deddycan'ship an' become a real Drood?"

Perdric is pitched back from the bookshelf he was browsing by the sudden tremor, landing heavily on his back.

"Oof... Ah bugger, th' shakin's back..." He mutters, as a large hardcover tips off the shelf and lands with a solid thunk on his chest.

~*<>*~

Go here for the Event Page!

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/126390-turning-molehills-into-mountains-event/

You feel a slight prickle as the hair on the back of your neck stands up. W...what is this? Something feels wrong... No, it's not just you, something is really...off.

Then it dawns on you...

The earth is shaking!

It's subtle at first, nothing more than a slight vibration. Then, the tremors grow louder and stronger! In the tavern, mugs shiver and clink together as plates fall from shelves to shatter on the floor. Casks brimming with ale roll and tumble about. Books fall from shelves and papers scatter across the floor.

Several burrows are in a total state of disrepair. It's a shame, but many Halflings have quite a bit of cleaning to do! But what caused this odd event? Why is the earth rumbling like an empty belly?

((Stay tuned, curious Halflings! The earth tremors are sure to return, bringing with them some answers to this puzzling phenomenon!))

~*<>*~

Perdric looks up at Kuro, expertly raises an eyebrow and mutters to himself.

"'Ow did th' biggun's learn 'bout th' gian' lazer?"

Hai Beth!

I agree that the community should not have the final, or even the first, say in decisions being made for the server as a whole but the player base should be consulted before drastic changes are made to the way the server operates. Doing things like reintroducing the VAT/MAT system with little to no warning will obviously lead to rage, along with the fact that these concerns (aka rage) are not being addressed. The staff seems disconnected from the player base and the free world I enter to escape all the problems I have in life is turning into a war zone for the power struggles between the community and the staff.

I have to agree with this, minus the 'creative' language. We ARE a role-play server, and WE should be able to decide who our character's are. I for one am against this decision and would like a more in-depth explanation as to why this came to be. This server had everything I looked for in a RP server. A great community, great staff, fantastic lore and freedom. Freedom to do what you like (within reason) with your character. If I want restrictions on my creativity, I'll go yuck it up in the 'real world'.

I have to agree with this, minus the 'creative' language. We ARE a role-play server, and WE should be able to decide who our character's are. I for one am against this decision and would like a more in-depth explanation as to why this came to be. This server had everything I looked for in a RP server. A great community, great staff, fantastic lore and freedom. Freedom to do what you like (within reason) with your character. If I want restrictions on my creativity, I'll go yuck it up in the 'real world'.

It has begun, now we have to ask ourselves where it will end...

Sky, you were a great guy, and the few times I did talk to you revealed a very genuine person. It's a shame to see you go...

I hope to god this is an Aprils Fools... *looks at date*... Oh...

But for real, maybe we could just bring back the blacklist system for bad RP with a player based system for reporting bad RP? But hey, don't listen to me... I'm just a ginger...

MC name: ForeverGinger

Character's name and age: Perdric Wanderwine, age 20

Character’s Race: Halfling

What magic will you be learning?: Druidism (Communion, Control, Blight Healing and Nature's Healing) as I am currently a Dedicant of the Order embarking on my Grand Task

Who will be teaching you?: Beth, a Druid Guide, otherwise know as Bethykinss

Survey says Warwulves are OP! Looking back on it, there are a lot of OP things here. Any advice on how to tweak this would be appreciated, and if you don't agree with this bit of lore you can shove it up your please let me know! Thanks for taking time to look over my lore :)

[!] Ragged notices are pinned around the Cloud Temple. Each of these papers bears a crude drawing with the following heading:

All ye who would walk un-escorted in the black of night beware! Foul creatures have been sighted in these lands, roaming and slaying with complete abandon. These beasts, known as the Warwulf, are an unholy mixing of man and wolf and should be avoided at all costs!

I. Infection and Cures
Infection: The Curse of the Warwulf, also know as Wolf Flu, is not a common affliction, but that is not to say it is rare. This "curse" is actualy an infection passed through the saliva of the afflicted. The virus is transmitted by bodily fluids, so the most common way to contract this disease it to suffer a bite from a Warwulf, but any other contact with bodily fluids does have a chance to pass the disease along.

Symptoms: If you or someone you know has potentially contracted Wolf Flu, take immediate action. Lock them in a convenient attic, basement or prison cell to contain them and expose them to as much aurum as possible (See section III, Defense and Prevention). Symptoms to be on the look out for are as follows:

Sharpened eyes and shifts in eye colors (yellow, red ect.)
Rapid growth of nails'
Extreme hair growth including spontaneous uni brows
Warped facial features
Hair color changing to grays or browns

If no symptoms appear after a full cycle of the moon, please apologize to the potential victim and let them out.

II. Appearances and Transformation
Appearance (Man): The Warwulf is a crafty beast, and can hold the shape of a Descendant except under specific conditions. The infected will often have vaguely wolfish features such as narrowed eyes, claw-like nails and thick, wild hair. This does NOT mean that all with wolfish features should be persecuted! Please refrain from slaying others based on their appearance alone!

Appearance (Wolf): A Warwulf who has taken the skin of the beast is a dangerous and deadly menace. Standing roughly six foot to seven foot with broad shoulders and thick, corded arms covered, this creature has strength equal to that of a grown male Uruk. Its arms reach down near its knees and are tipped with long, razor sharp claws. Its legs are very short in comparison to the rest of its body, so a transformed Warwulf moves by planting its legs on the ground, swinging its arms forwards and taking off with great leaps and bounds. Be warned, a Warwulf may cover several meters in a single bound but has poor maneuverability due to this method of transportation. The Warwulf is also covered in a thick, matted hair ranging from grey to brown. this hair forms an effective armor, but is highly flammable.

Transformation: The transformation of a Warwulf only occurs under specific conditions, but there are several signs that war if someone is about to transform. Firstly, hair will spread across the body at an alarming rate, the heartbeat will become strong and audible to any in the close vicinity, as the heart is expanding and pumping blood to all the new muscles and veins, the victim will radiate heat and finally, the eyes will shift to blood red as the excess blood diffuses into them. After these signs, the shift from man to beast is almost instantaneous as the new body parts violently and rapidly explode out. A Warwulf will only transform if the moon is full OR they are under intense physical strain. The full moon acts as a trigger for the beast, activating the virus and kick starting the growth of the vitals, muscles and bones for the transformation. The virus will also trigger a transformation if the victim is under physical pressure in an effort to preserve itself and its host. When transformed, the Warwulf will go into a berserk rage, snapping and biting anything within reach in an attempt to spread the virus farther. The first transformation is often extremely painful, and many are driven mad on their first Changing-Night.

III. Combat and Cures
Weaknesses: Warwulf have a strange aversion to aurum as it inflicts severe burns to them when transformed and are especially weak to all forms of Void magic for some odd reason. That being said, do not fear a sorcerous Warwulf, for the viral affliction severs all connection with the Void. Warwulf, however, may take on the path of the Druid, as the virus does not seem to interrupt a connection with nature. To get back on topic, transformed Warwulf appear to have difficulty swimming due to their physical makeup. If forced to combat one of these beasts, try to force it into a river or lake, as the water soaks into their fur and weighs them down. The fur of a Warwulf is thick and matted with a strange oily secretion, forming an effective barrier against sword, spear or arrow. However, it is extremely flammable and will engulf the creature in sheets of flame at the merest spark.

Cures: A skilled Cleric may purge the affliction if it is still in its infant stages, ie the first two to three weeks after contact, but if the Warwulf has experianced its first Changing-Night, the affliction may not be cured. It can however, be contained and restricted through exposure to aurum. Wearing aurum bracelets or amulets can help keep a victim of Wolf Flu from transforming, and forcing them into aurum-lined shackles is an effective containment method. There is one method, however that can help the infected keep their mind when transformed. A skilled brewer can concoct a potion made of wolfs-bane to aid in keeping the Warwulf calm in the midst of their transformation if administered the night before. After ingesting the essence of wolfs-bane, the Warwulf will be able to remain calm and... er... un-berserk? The victim will retain their identity whilst they have shifted into the skin of a beast, as the potion temporarily nullifies the effect the virus has on the brain.

Combat: Shifted Warwulf boast several advantages in combat, the first being their claws. A Warwulf's claws are fully retractable and can range from ten to twenty centimeters in length and are razor sharp. The beast also has a thick, matted pelt that effectively acts as armor for the beast. This hair is bound together with a oily compound secreted during the shift that, when dry, forms a shell-like armor. The most dangerous time to fight a Warwulf is, oddly enough, after they have ingested the wolfs-bane compound, as it means the beast will have the intelect of a Descendant and the body of a monster.

((OOC Info))
So, werewolves in LOTC.

Pros:
Ability to blend in (mostly) when un-transformed
Massive strength
Eviscerating, retractable claws
Hair armor (may be RPed with chain)
You can contain your rages with wolfs-bane potion
Long arms? (I guess thats an advantage)

Cons:
Some "tells" could reveal you are a Warwulf when un-transformed
Aversion to aurum
You are a walking tinderbox
Can not swim well
Crazy berserk rages when transformed

RED LINES
Not RPing the "pre-change" state (heartbeat, hair, spastic twitching)
Being in control after changing. You are essentially a savage beast unless you have taken the wolfs-bane potion recently.
Not attacking people when transformed. You are a monster, so act like one!
Not reacting to aurum. All Warwulf, transformed or not, have an aversion to gold. You may force yourself to touch/wear it if you wish to contain your condition, but it would burn.
USING MAGIC! NO magical werewolves!

RP potential:
People could hunt Warwulf if they feel they are threatening a community, but the Warwulf could RP mas well. They can just be an innocent person with a "furry problem". Maybe you don't know you're a Warwulf, and people are winding up dead in your village. The possibilities are endless!

Why did I write this?:
I wanted to write monster lore that gave people a chance to have a regular RP life alongside it. For example, you can be an innocent, average Halfling most of the time, but when the full moon comes out, you get to RP as a crazy monster wolf man. You don't have to dedicate yourself to playing a monster only some people want too to RP with. As a Warwulf, you get the best of both worlds, regular RP and monster pseudo-event RP.

((Sorry for lack of pictures, my comp. was derping. I'll try and add some ASAP))

[!] A thick, leather-bound tome is placed in the Library of the Druids, marked with a note labled "Important". The writing in the book appears to have been copied from several scraps of paper, which would explain the short, fragmented style of writing. You skim over several, important looking passages which read:

"-and so, the corruption, insignificant at first, had spread unchecked for generations. This horrid blight grew in strength, leaving crops withered in their fields and entire forests void of life. It was in the midst of this time that the noble Aspects saw it fit to bestow upon our realm a creature to defend and heal in the abscence of the Druii. Cerridwin chose for her purpose the only creature left that could survive nay, thrive in lands touched by this blight. She chose the noble goat. For you see, the disease spread throughout an area, sapping strength from all plant life in the area, all the while sowing seeds of its own. These Blight-Weeds, as they soon became commonly known as, sprouted up in lands afflicted by this pestilence, were tough, prickly stalks with a strong stench prevailing about them-"

"-The unsightly weeds would help strangle the life from other plants in the area. The goats, however, took delight in chewing upon these nusances, freeing the land from their encompassing grip. So, the noble Lady of Harvest siezed one of these magnificent creatures and bestowed upon it a portion of her natural energies. The goat grew untill it was sized roughtly the same as a large warhorse. Its coat retained its usual marble coloring of brown, white and black, but became shiny, lustrious and thickly curled. From its chin spouted a magnificent spot of hair, and from its brow erupted a twisting spiral of pure white bone. This new creature was named the Eincapra-"

"-the Eincapra was gifted with amazing powers because of the Aspect's blessing. Lush grass and wildflowers spouted whenever it trod upon the earth. Minor corruption would flee from it, and the touch of its breath could restore even the sickest of trees to the glory of their youth. However it is known that the Horn of the Eincapra is its conduit to the energies of nature. Without its horn, the mystical beast is nore more than an abnormaly large goat, albeit one with pretty hair. Eincapra live extrodinarily long, and will give birth to only one child upon their deathbed. Therefore, they are a very rare creature. Very few recorded sightings have been legitimitized, and only one Eincapra is know to exist now-"

"-As was earlier stated, the Eincapra's Horn is an extraordiarily powerful object. During the creature's infancy, the horn is short and stubby, but as they grow, Eincapra have been reported bearing horns as long as a man is tall. If given willingly, these bones can be used to make increadibly powerful staffs and wands to aid in Druid Magic. However, if the horn is removed without the consent of the beast, it will release a massive flow of natural energy. The energy can have varied effects, but it will always diffuse into the surrounding area after targeting the one who forcefully remove the horn. Several wanderers have reported sighting of odd statues littering the land in the midst of a lush grove or ripe field. It is theorized that these statues are the remains of those who would remove an Eincapra's horn. "

"-It is known that the Eincapra are extremly proud. One would never consent to be held captive by any, and one should not atempt to mount one except in the most dire of circumstances. Eincapra do not breed as normal goats do. Instead, an Eincapra will carry its child with it until its death, where it will give birth with its final breath-"

Gaze on in wonder at the majestical gift of the Aspects!

OOC Shiznits:

The Eincapra may be RPed by a horse of the correct coloring, that's up to the person directing the RP to decide.

Eincapra may NOT be RPed without express permission from one of the "higher up" Druids such as the Head Druid

Eincapra aren't pets, and they would not consent to being held in captivity

An Eincapra has the equivilant to Tier 5 Blight Healing with its horn inact

If you attempt to ride an Eincapra, unless it is ABSOLUTLY necessary, prepare to feel a sharp stabbing sensation in your abdomen.

Edit: Added OOC Shiznits

Edit: Fixed formatting and other stuffs