Shalashask

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Helrach, lord of Houndsden, pledges the remaining Brawms to Courland.

A Bad End for a Bad Elf

Elrach lent his head up against the hard and musty wall of the cell. Its coldness offered little relief for the gash he had sustained hours earlier. The elf had grossly overestimated the strength of his knightly mask, as a Courlandic blade made quick work of the thin scrap metal that it was fashioned from. As he ran a finger underneath his wound, the dried blood spiralled under his finger nail before flaking off onto the already bloody floor. It gave him a little nudge of reassurance that he would live long enough to face the Courlandic gallows as opposed to bleeding out ten feet underground.

Readjusting himself he sent his hand down to fondle his belt. The guards had confiscated all his weapons and stripped him of his plate, but it appeared that they had left him with one of his most prized possessions. His hand firmly gripped the instrument and tugged at it lightly, releasing it from its leather binding. As he brought it upwards his fingers found themselves in a familiar position either side of it, and he pursed his cracked lips.

Despite his concussion, Elrach found his pan fluting skills intact. The light and cheerful notes resonated in the dungeon walls, contrasting with his bleak situation. Although the sound caused his head to pulsate against his cranium, it brought himself back to more joyful times when he was just a simple thug in Felsen. For a moment, he could taste ale pouring down throat, the warmth of a tavern fire and the weight of someone else’s coin in his pocket.

As he continued to play, his notes began to be accompanied by the merry jingle of bells and the pitter patter of playful footsteps. He lowered his flutes, raising his gaze to door of his cell. The lock mechanism clicked and the door was pushed open. The torch illuminated a figures face, and it was not one Elrach had been expecting. Instead of the Courlandic tabard and plate armour it was a jester outfit of red and green. Elrach let his pan flutes clatter onto the ground as the jester pranced forward, the bells on his hat dominating the sound in the cell. Its footsteps made little sound as the jester began closing the gap between the two. Perhaps it was some Courlandic tradition to receive a jester’s routine as a last rite in Courland, the elf thought. But he was wrong.

The Jester towered over the slumped body of Elrach. Its glee, bloodshot stare met Elrach’s defeated and quivering eyes. Elrach found his shirt being tugged upwards towards the Jester by a pair of surprisingly steady and smooth hands. The mouth of the Jester opened, and a smell of peppermint and bacon entered the elf’s nostrils. It began moving closer and closer to his face, before the Jester’s jaw twitched, sending his teeth down onto Elrach’s face. The elf yelled as his brain scrambled to assess the situation. Without realising it himself, he launched his forehead forward towards the Jesters jaw. Pain echoed through Elrach’s head, the impact sending his brain to bounce against the inside of his skull.

The Jester appeared unphased, as it remained stationary for a second to observe Elrach’s pain. As the elf groaned and tussled in his corner of his cell he could hear the bells of the jester descending towards him again. He kicked and flailed in all directions, but the Jester’s path was fixed. Its teeth found Elrach’s neck, and then its jaw slammed down. The elf felt the stream of warm blood first, and the cold air of the dungeon entering his neck. He thrashed about, the blood sluicing the dirt that he lay on.

As Elrach began making a meagre attempt to stop the blood, the Jester skipped over to the door and left, the sound of his bells slowly fading. Elrach continued tussling with his wound, his hand making for a poor replacement of a bandage. The sound of the Jesters merry bells returned, but this time they were not alone. The sound of heavy plate could be heard clanking down the footsteps. As the Jester reappeared in the doorway he was accompanied by a huge figure. Elrach could not tell what was the colour of his tabard or the metal of his armour, his eyes were beginning to fail him. The Jester flung a finger towards the doomed elf, and the figure followed. Even combined, Elrach’s pan flute and the jester’s bells would not be able to compete with the figures footsteps. Every step resulted in a deathly thud that absorbed all other sound.

Elrach began to attempt to steady his breathing. He didn’t want to go out like a helpless rat cornered in the cell, but that was the way he was going to go. His eyes betrayed him, and seeped out his fear and cowardice. As the figure reached the elf its eyes glowed like ember, the light breaching out of its twisted helmet. It moved its blade backwards in one movement, moved it forward in another, and Elrach was gone.

((cancelled it lads. Thought no one would turn up due to the warclaim being at a similar time and so haven't got any tournament grounds organised.))

This is a huge misunderstanding. Ubergoobie was just trying to give it the authentic "Houndsden" look by razing it to the ground.

16 hours ago, joey calabreeni said:

me on the left btw

Around different bustling capitals of the isles of Axios, flyers are found slapped onto notice boards and tavern walls.




The First Melee of the Westerlands
       

Calling all brave warriors of the Isles of Axios. The Westerlands invites you to prove your worth and honour in the arena. Races* from all over will come together and clash in the dirt until only one fighter is left standing. Should you be the one to prevail against all others then you shall be rewarded with a legendary blade to show off your strength and guile.

The tournament will take the format of a single elimination bracket, and arms and armour will be provided to combatants. Fights will continue simply until one combatant has yielded. Disregarding this rule, using magic or other questionable tactics will result in disqualification and punishment.

Spectators are also welcomed to watch. The Mos Le'Harmless cantina will happily accept any weary traveller into its arms with cosy rooms available at very reasonable rates, as well as a wide variety of food and drink.

The tournament grounds can be found just outside the city of Bastion. To get there simply take the cart entitled "Westerlands" from the caravan hub on Tahn. Sign posts and guides will be on hand on the day to ensure you do not stumble off a cliff.


 

OOC:
Time and Date-  6:00PM EST/ 11PM GMT 11/03/17 (Saturday). First battle will commence at 6:30PM EST.
 

Rules:

Application form:
 

*Kha and Dark Elfs can take a long walk off a short pier.

Elrach begins shaking uncontrollably. 

22 minutes ago, Trinn | nnirT said:

Banter between friends is not a viable excuse - even if the other party is not offended

Gay

Elrach bows his head. The man who had found him on the streets of Johannesburg and given him a better life in the Sappers was gone. Without his invitation he surely would have perished or slipped further into a dark life of crime.

kys

I vaguely remember spending a lot of time on that coffee bag game and the mine cart one.
I'd imagine it'd be pretty easy for someone to host a nostalgia server, just like they've done with toontown and wow.

How do I achieve this mode?

MC Name: Shalashask
Nation(s)/Faction you belong to IC: The Westerlands
Time Zone: GMT

Skype (if applicable):I can pm it

Discord (if applicable): N/A

Forum Account Link: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/profile/71906-shalashask/

Preferred Method of Contact: Skype

How will you go about assisting new players?: Firstly I'd introduce them to what we are and our goals. Essentially the Westerlands isn't a place you'd want to live in rply, but oocly it attracts a lot of people due to the fun and interesting rp of living in an inhospitable climate, fighting off the undead.
Next I'd try and find them an initial role where they can fit into our group with the opportunities of meeting most of our active guys. We have a lot to offer, such as hunting, tavern work, church and clergy rp as well as the obvious military roles in our main company.

Can you please explicitly specify what actions will revoke a nations unconquerable plot so that we don't have multiple inconsistent verdicts in the future.

Maybe it's not the place to put this comment either, but a nation should not be entitled to a plot of land at the beginning of a map simply because it is for a specific race/sub race. The key factor in determining this should be how active the player base is at the turn of a new map and how well they have maintained it throughout the map. An inactive/decentralised player base should not be entitled to a plot of land over another nation simply because they are for a certain race.

Athera sized without the nonsensical Kings road system. Maybe even slightly larger.

Despite being a 'KnightOTKing' on the winning side, why is keaton still irrelevant? 

As it is a fight to the death will there be pk clauses?

Elrach stood on a wall in Death's end. As he looked out to Johannesburg, the many faces of the men he'd served with in the capital passed through his mind. He let out a forced, frosted breath. They were gone now, some of the finest and bravest men he'd ever met.

But life rolls on.

Who was in the wrong here?

33 minutes ago, 吳憾戰士14 said:

South Axios Treaty Organization

"Watch carefully" says Elrach as he scribbles out a letter.

33 minutes ago, 吳憾戰士14 said:

South Axis Treaty Organization

8 hours ago, Bunny :) said:

Why did you even waste time uploading this? You didn't get any kills, or loot and nothing interesting happened.

Kinda like those staged orc skirms :^)

See you on the flip side ******

Are those 1 rep maxes that you've done yourself or calculated with a site like strength standards?

Edit: Nevermind, too tired to notice that you had them in pounds not kg.