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6xdestroyer

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About 6xdestroyer

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    6xdestroyer

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    Male
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    Kovagrad | The Principality

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  • Character Name
    Jozsef Kovacs | Vulnir Syllar
  • Character Race
    Heartlander | Dark Elf

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  1. Anyone want to buy some Norlandic horses?

    1. SubscriptShark2

      SubscriptShark2

      no thank you kind sir!

  2. Algarius gnaws on a piece of straw with a grand smirk.
  3. Name of your Charter: The Carnatian Brigade Owner's Username: Soulstrung Owner's Roleplay Name: Finan Tiberan Location (XYZ): 261, 188, -3113 Tier applying for: 1
  4. Vulnir shrugged “clearly the spirits have forsaken the uruk kind”
  5. Heavy hooves crunched the permafrost beneath them as the horse trotted in the empty valley. To either side were mountains that seemed to be competing amongst themselves to grab the few stars scattered in the sky above. The only life in the valley was the lone horseman and his torch as the darkness desired to devour them. The silence was a welcomed gift to the seasoned soldier as he reveled in thought. He made out the base of one of the stone behemoth’s and said a quiet prayer to thank God for letting him see beyond just the radius of his torch. Jozsef tugged on the reins of the chestnut brown mare, bringing her to a stop with a whinny. He slid off the horse and began walking to a cluster of young evergreens and hibernating brush. He took off his light mail and began to work from rote memory as he established a small camp, just enough room for his single person tent and small fire. He slung the saddlebags and hog tied deer from his large Carnatian warhorse and set them close to the cackling fire. After setting up various mantraps and rope snares around the campsite he took his blade and dragged himself into the tent. Like the last hours of the journey, the night was quiet. He awoke to the howling of wolves far distant but still discomforting. His breath was that of steam as he went to check his snares. A white rabbit was thus his rather quick breakfast as he rearmed and deconstructed the camp. He began to follow the mountain’s base, looking for signs of his target. He’d been told by the remnants of Fennic traders he’d met along the roads earlier in his journey that this was the proper valley. The place they’d lost one of their companions and two horses to what they only could describe as a hulking pale yellow-green mass of flesh. Finally, towards midday Jozsef spotted a rotting carcass and trail of blood leading along the edge and followed it. Soon enough a large cave appeared, the outside coated in dried blood, bones and various crude drawings. He quickly reared his horse back a distance and set about preparing his trap. Jozsef unloaded his horse both deer and various trinkets, going to establish camp downwind and far enough from the cave that he’d not be surprised. Unaware of whether he had weeks or days before the beast must feed again, he hurried, fairly diligently in his work. He set about cutting down the young trees and sharpening them into spikes. As the sun began to set over the massive stone walls that surrounded the valley, Jozsef grumbled. He drove the spikes in a circular formation around his small camp and baited a rope trap once more, hoping to avoid the stale bread and jerky he’d brought in case. There was no brush nor time for a fire, it was a cold night in the tent, even under the many furs he’d brought with him. One again he was lucky, it seemed the valley was full of rabbit. Jozsef split a spike and tried to make a small fire to cook over, but failed as the wood was too damp. He scarfed down his hard bread and jerky as he pulled the remaining spikes from the ground, angry at himself for the wasted time. He left his horse and gear at the camp as he made the short trek to the cave’s head. Nothing seemed to have been moved. “Good,” he thought to himself. Jozsef began scouting the area. The cave was deep into the mountain, he could not see how far down it reached. On the side from which he came, the valley was open, on the other was a dense forest. He nodded to himself, this would be his best chance. He returned to camp and began hauling the crudely sharpened trees into the forest, his steed dragging them in twos. Sweat began to cover his brow as he made two swinging log traps along his carefully planned route. The water repeatedly freezing against his face. Soon enough he noted that the sun was setting, and he returned to camp. He tried once more to make a fire but was once more successful. Another cold and restless night ensued. Josef awoke early, when the ambient light of the sun filled the sky but lacked its source. The morning meal was the same, though the bread seemed harder so he washed it down with some ale. He took the four metal bear traps and began setting them upon the route he’d early planned for his escape. With the sun now high in the sky, Jozsef returned to camp and deconstructed it. He moved his horse towards the end of his ambush route, hiding it in the thick brush. Jozsef drew the four crossbows from their clips on his saddle. He hoped they’d be worth the annoyance of their constant dangling and clanking. He began drawing their strings back one by one and loading them before he hid them behind trees, with each crossbow being placed a few steps behind the previous. Confident with his work, he began to drag the rotting deer carcass towards the cave entrance. Jozsef watched the cave closely as he tried to restrain himself from throwing up at the smell that radiated from the Olog’s lair. He hoped his deer would wake the hungry beast. He left the deer near his route into the nearby forest and moved closer, going to pick up a rather hefty stone. As he went to throw the stone into the cave he heard repeated thunderous booms. Quickly he drew his bow and retreated to the nearby tree-line, crouching in the snow. The stench of the massive creature was masked only by the horror of its appearance. Standing at what he figured to be nearly ten feet and what he assumed was hundreds of pounds was the feral Olog. It’s tusks and teeth were warped and mangled, stained red by their years of goring. Its skin appeared like that of thick leather the color of a muddied moss. Its eyes were crusted holes with what appeared to resemble a boar’s pupil. The creature roared something deep and guttural as it picked up the deer like a feather and tossed it into its rotting maw. The valley was filled with the gross and awesome snapping of bones as Jozsef reached to his quiver, nocking an arrow. As the creature feasted roughly fifty yards from him, Jozsef slowed his breath and took aim before firing for its right eye. The arrow missed its target but sunk shallowly into the thick-skinned shoulder of the beast. It yelped a confused roar as it turned its gaze away from its meal and towards Jozsef. The soldier attempted to nock another arrow and fire for the Olog’s knee as he rose and began to slowly tread backwards into his established route. This arrow sunk true, penetrating the tough leather of the Olog’s left knee and driving the arrow tip into its cartilage. It didnt seem to bother the beast who now began lumbering towards the Jozsef. He turned and began to jog away slowly into the forest within just enough length for the creature to see him. While the was beast watching its next meal, Jozsef watched the ground, careful not to spring any of his traps. It was only a few minutes before Jozsef slid beneath the thick rope of his first trap, hoping the Olog would be too preoccupied with him to notice, or simply just not care. Moments later The Olog sprung the wire and the sharpened tree swang horizontally, ready to impale the Olog in its leftern ribcage. However, to Jozsef’s surprise, the Olog was able to deflect the trap with his left arm, goring the bicep of the creature and serving only to enrage it further. Nearly trapping himself on the beartrap he’d set just a few steps away in his worry, Jozsef continued running, the feral giant now charging at him. Saliva was flung to and fro as the Olog pursued in full bloodlust, the metal crunching around its ankle but seeming to not distract it at all. With another deep roar, the beast simply tore the trap from the ground and continued on. Jozsef turned to look over his shoulder, the creature covered in blood flowing from its many wounds, most heavily its arm. What had previously been a sight to evoke nausea now evoked a primal fear in Jozsef. As he turned back to watch the ground, the emotion of his visage turned from disgust to utter concern and perhaps even fear as he questioned whether he’d be able to take down the beast. For a moment questions of his pride and foolishness in accepting this quest began to cloud his head. He shook his head to force the voices out, this was not a time for retrospection. He neared the second of the spears and rolled beneath the rope once more, his light mail battering against his sweat drenched body. He nocked an arrow in his shortbow as he watched the giant charge him. Once more, the trap was sprung as the tree-like legs of the Olog pressed upon the rope. Jozsef inhaled and steadied himself as he watched the Olog slowly realize the similarity of the trap and attempt to turn in preparation to bat away the incoming spear. Jozsef drew back his whistling arrow and fired, aiming for the neck of the beast. The arrow sailed over the creatures right shoulder, but was enough to distract the Olog as the tree drove itself into the left ribcage of the giant. While it appeared to be more blunt damage than it was piercing, it’d seemed to have drawn more of the beasts crimson lifeforce. Birds scattered from the nearby trees and perched snow fell upon the dried ground. Jozsef was sure he even saw the mountains tremble. The guttural roar wracked Jozsef’s head as he tried to cover his ears and stumbled back, slipping on a pebble and falling on his back. Recovering slowly he watched as the beast grabbed its side before turning to look at the fallen soldier. Realizing imminent death, he scrambled up and began sprinting back, his bow left discarded where he’d fallen. The warm blood of the giant feral beast flowing to the ground and leaving a steaming and dark trail as it continued its last ditch charge. The second bear trap caught the other leg of the beast, this time halting the charge as it struggled to pull its bolting from the ground. Jozsef paused, hoping it to be true, but once more the screws were torn from the ground. Jozsef continued to run but slowed his pace after gaining some distance, noticing the beast struggling to push on. The man stopped, drawing his sword, Pyre, from the sheath at his right hip. He looked to the sky above and prayed to GOD and his northern Saints to not take him this day. With that done he charged at the bloodied olog. The feral olog readied itself to bat Jozsef away as he charged but the soldier quickly changed his side of attack and slid against the icy ground, bringing Pyre upon the creature’s left thigh. The thick flesh separated beneath the blade as it severed a large artery. Finally, with bloodlust alone not enough to keep it standing fully, the olog collapsed onto its left knee, snapping the arrow he’d earlier placed there in two and causing the kneecap of the beast to shatter under the weight. With the beast immobilized, Jozsef stood from his slide and now, on the back side of the beast, raised his sword to bring it down upon the beasts neck. As he walked towards the beast, it turned, roaring in pain and bloodlust as it did so, and channeled its strength into a punch to the knights right leg. Jozsef, unexpecting this show of defiance was sent stumbling. He shouted in pain as he tried to rise from his fallen position. He looked down, the mail was crushed and he felt a warm pool forming on the outer part of his thigh. He tore off one one of the rabbit furs he’d had on and made a makeshift tourniquet. He watched from a distance just outside the Olog’s reach as it struggled to stand on its gored leg. He crawled towards two large sticks nearby and wrapped them around his leg to make a crude and ineffective splint. He stood shakily, using his sword to prop him up and walked towards the beast, carefully examining it for threat of another surprise attack. Both the wounded warriors locked eyes, the olog snarling but now surrounded in a huge pool of blood it knew that even with its multiple hearts, it would not survive this onslaught. Jozsef ran at the beast and raised his sword high his primal rage helping mask the immense pain. Reaching just a few steps before he could strike the final blow to the skull of the monster, his leg gave out and he stumbled right onto the stomach of the creature, cutting his face on it’s ancient tusks in the fall. His sword fell to the ground and Jozsef panicked. The Olog, slowly realizing that this was not part of his attackers plan, began to paw and scrape at Jozsef with its remaining strength in its right warm. Jozsef, realizing he’d not get the clean kill he’d so hoped for moments ago, drew his dagger and began sawing it in a square formation upon the beasts stomach, it’s blood and organs slowing seeping out and onto Jozsefs mail and tabard. Steam clouded the view from his right eye, his left being battered and bruised from the tusks. The two warriors struggled and writhed against each other for what Jozsef thought could only be hours. The paws and attacks upon his back got lighter and lighter until eventually Jozsef felt the life fade from the ancient giant. He released his white knuckled grasp on his dagger and rolled over such that his back was now atop the stomach of his prey. He looked into the sky above for a few moments, it was cold, gray and dark, but he smiled. At least he would live to see a clear sky another day. OOC INFO This story was written using a dice roll for any large/important choice or action. While I didnt use a set formula (i.e. # = success1,success2) I did heavily rely on it for adding some flavor to the story. Any feedback is welcome, hope at least one person enjoys.
  6. Preamble: We’ve reached out to the World Development team repeatedly to no response. We understand and are thankful that they are so busy with the next map, but still figured it was worth a shot to try this even though its doubtful it’ll do anything. Charter Application: The Charter of Sable Principality of Vira'ker Submitted by Vulnir Syllar «SoulStrung » ● Located at coordinates: Somewhere next map ● Tier level of [2-3, whichever you’ll give us] https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/forum/1039-sable-principality-of-viraker/ @Fireheart_ @SeventhCircle
  7. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖛𝖊 The Sable Principality of Vira’ker The Grand Gala of Gray Folk I hope everyone enjoyed the festivities of the Gala. Congratulations to all our winners and we hope you will come to future events. A Continuous Call to All Mali’ker To the to those tired of isolation and consider themselves the moon-folk, the gray folk, the black folk, the Mali’ker, or whatever the name you have been called you will always have a place in the Sable Principality. I urge you to come to your kin, we will judge you naught on your past nationality or actions should you wish to reunite. Clinics, Smiths and Explosions Verna’ker has seen an influx of skilled laborers. Balor Othan has opened a clinic, Ailis Wir has opened a smithy, and clamor can he heard from Alor Fi’Ceru’s alchemical lab. All those that need space for their labors or the backing of a larger community are urged to travel to Verna’ker. Div’Cruan The Div’Cruan has officially begun its training and organization at Verna’ker. All ‘ker that wish to serve their kinsfolk or train their martial skills are encouraged to join up. Clans All Mali’ker that are seeking a clan or wish to start their own clan are encouraged to come to the Sable Principality. We can assist you in finding your spot in one of our great and numerous clans or even starting your own one. May the spirits guide you.
  8. GiVe ThE daRk ELvEs A cHArtEr ❤️ @SeventhCircle @Fireheart_
  9. The Grand Gala of the Gray Folk The Sable Principality of Vira’ker With Verna’ker established as a foothold of all Mal’ker kin, there shall hereby be a grand festival to celebrate! His Highness Prince Vulnir Syllar of the Sable Principality of Vira’ker invites all mali’ker, their allies, and all those that wish to partake in drinking, martial festivities, and various games. These glorious events shall display the strength of the Principality and bring general joy to those that attend. With established neutrality, all are invited and encouraged to have a day of festivities with those they may consider their enemy, though are asked to stay home if they wish for hostilities. TIME & LOCATION: Saturday February 9th, 3:00 pm EST. Verna’ker ((PM Soulstrung for location, or apply below)) Events Drinking Contest The clan Uuthlini will be providing their famous brews. He who can go the longest and drink the most will be rewarded with a two-hundred mina prize and a headache. ((You will be rolling to see how well you do)). Fashion Contest Those that fancy themselves fancy can enter in a fashion contest. The winner will receive three-hundred minas and be offered a job should they want it. One-on-one melee combat Once the contest is finished, a grand melee will begin. Guests may sign up to partake in one-on-one melee combat in a tournament stay manner. The winner will receive a special blade and a pouch of five hundred minas. You must apply by sending bird to Verna’ker if you wish to partake. ((Fill out form below) Team simulated warfare Following the melee there will be a Grand two teamed battle to act as a simulated warfare. The winning team will have their names inscribed into the stones of the hold of Verna’ker. Those who wish to apply follow the same process as the melee. A Grand Hunt To conclude the festivities, there will be a grand hunt in the desert. All are welcome to participate in this. Invitations are sent to the following specifically: All ‘ker and their kinsmen. His Majesty, Rex Murak’Gorkil. His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of Men, Augustus Horen. His Imperial majesty's’ Lords, Ladies, and Legionaries. His Highness, King of Gladewynn, Cassius Atreides. The seed elders of Gladewynn and their kin. His Highness, High Prince of Rosenyr, Jacques Alphonse. His Highness, Grand Prince Aelthir Tundrak II. His Highness, King of the Dwed, Fimlin Grandaxe. His Highness, Prince of Aegrothond. All friends of ‘ker and their kin. Sign up (RP&MC) Name: Age: Race: Event (1v1 or Warfare Sim.): Nation/Group:
  10. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖎𝖛'𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖆𝖓 The Sable Principality of the Vira’ker Forged in the strife of the Fringe wars, The Div'cruan were created many years ago to protect the Mali'ker and their homes within Ker'lomi. Their duty is first and foremost to their people and the Ancestors. Through war and the ages, the Div’cruan upholds its sacred charge, the eternal vigil of the Ancestors who have come before them. As their name entails, they are to show no pain and no fear when they meet their enemy. The Mali'ker are a passionate people, yet in service of the Div’cruan they must not let passion get in the way of their duties, for passion leads to bloodlust. The Div’cruan must be devoid of feeling, just as Onyx is devoid of light. There is no joy in killing, there is no disdain in it either. Killing is simply a method to keep the Mali'ker safe. Nothing more, nothing less - Nothing. Similar to the Archons of olden days, the Div'cruan show dedication to the Ancestors. Acting as their Champions and aiding in teaching populace of how to venerate and honour them, many Div’cruan will dedicate themselves and their lifestyles to a specific Ancestor, often idolizing and training in ways similar to theirs. Base Ranks Aspirant * * New blood of the Div’cruan, Mali’ker of strong hearts willing to serve their people; Aspirants are the newly armed members of the Div’cruan, yet to have receive their trials of initiation, such as hunts or feats of strength and loyalty. Vindicator * * The bulk of the ashen guard, the duty of a Vindicator is to follow the orders given to them by their superiors, protect their home, and uphold the ways of the Ancestors adamantly. These members of the Div’cruan often take pilgrimage together to Ancestral way-shrines in celebration and mourning of great events. Hierarch * * A mali'ker at the rank of Hierarch been promoted by either the Ordinator or the Prince of Vira’ker for outstanding duty. The job of a Hierarch is to moderate and oversee the Aspirants as well as conduct Ancestral teachings and trials for them and potential new Initiates. Ordinator * * A rank given only to a select few veteran Div’cruan who have displayed outstanding devotion to the people and the Ancestors. These are the Commanders of the mali'ker troops. Tasked with issuing orders to the soldiers and handing down orders from the Prince. Their word is to be followed to the letter. Rank Specializations (Mages) Adept * * Aspirants who are skilled in the Void or Other deific magic aside from Shamanism, yet still holding interest to serve the Ancestors; Once receiving their armor and weapons, they await their Test of Faith and Skill with this rank. Sorcerer * * A full battle-worthy mage of the Div’cruan. Their duty is to follow the orders given to them by their superiors, protect their home, and uphold the ways of the Ancestors adamantly, as well as assist in education Adepts on the proper use of magic. They are on par to Vindicators. Censurer * * A full battle-worthy deific mage of the Div’cruan. Their duty is to follow the orders given to them by their superiors, protect their home, and uphold the ways of the Ancestors adamantly, as well as assist in medical duties. They are on par to Vindicators. Magos * * This mali'ker voidal mage has been promoted by either the Ordinator or the Prince for outstanding duty. Their job is to moderate and oversee the Adepts as well as conduct Ancestral teachings for Aspirants, Adepts, Vindicators, and Sorcerers. They are on par to Hierarchs. Prelate * * This mali'ker deific mage has been promoted by either the Ordinator or the Prince for outstanding duty. Their job is to moderate and oversee the Adepts as well as conduct Ancestral teachings for Aspirants, Adepts, Vindicators, and Censurers. They are on par to Hierarchs. Test of Faith (Initiate Trials) When an Aspirant or Adept completes their training and are ready to take the next steps to becoming a full member of the Div’cruan, they must undergo a simple test of faith. Hierarchs, Ordinators or even the Prince himself will bestow a task onto them that they see will best prove the recruit. These tasks can differ depending on which ranked member decided and at times these tasks may even be quite dangerous; Often times related to a Spirit or Ancestor in nature. The Ancestral Pledge All mali'ker who complete their tests of faith must utter this pledge before becoming a Vindicator or some sort of Specialized role. I, ___, swear upon my life to uphold the honor of my loved ones lost. My life is devoted to furthering the mali'ker in all forms. I do not seek sin, I seek the love of my Ancestors. I do not seek glory, the glory is theirs. I do not seek riches, coin is meaningless in the Astral Plane. If I stray from the path and into that of the barbarian then I relinquish my life and accept that I may never dwell with our blessed. War Chant Div’wyn Div’san Div’lirrin El’tos’narn lye adil tuva El’tos’narn el’igne’sae uhierir El’tos’narn lye adil tuva El’tos’narn el’igne’sae uhierir Miyumier berr Miyumier sil Miyumier ker Miyumier ihnsil El’tos’narn lye adil tuvaEl’tos’narn el’igne’sae uhierir El’tos’narn lye adil tuva El’tos’narn el’igne’sae uhierir Chul igne’sae Chul evar Chul miar’sae Chul okar Lye igne’sae uhieriran ((Written for us by Watyll)) Application (IC) Name: Age: Gender: Do you intend to learn, or do you perform, any sort of Voidal or Deific art? Which? Do you accept that in joining this order you may at times be tasked with taking the life of another mali’ker? Do you accept that under particular circumstances you may be removed from the order? And under serious enough terms, executed? (OOC) MC Name: Discord: ((Please put your answers to these questions in a different color than the text and tag either myself, @NJBB)) ((Credits to Graia/Imp for the OP))
  11. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖛𝖊 The Sable Principality of Vira’ker Establishment of Verna’ker Together and through sheer determination and will, we have established a safe haven for our kin and all those that consider themselves our allies. Coined Verna’ker in elvish, or “safe place” in common it serves to be a bastion to all Mali’ker and friends. A Call to All Mali’ker To the to those who are tired of oppression to the moon-folk, to the gray folk, the black folk, to the Mali’ker, whatever the name you have been called you will always have a place in the Sable Principality. I urge you to come to your kin, we will judge you naught on your past nationality or actions should you wish to reunite. The Raids of 1701 To the honorable Vira’ker your gallantry and alertness were on full display when tested over the past few moons. Those that wished harm upon us and our allies were dealt a swift trouncing, and I can only hope we maintain this martial prowess for future moons. The Grand Gala of the Gray Folk To all Mali’ker and their allies, please prepare for a marvelous festival celebrating the completion of Verna’ker to be held in the near future. More information on this to be dispatched later. ((Links)): ((OOC)) If you want any information on the Sable Principality of Vira’ker please shoot me or one of the following people a PM. @Dakirennis @StokedOff @NJBB @LordYuki @MeteorDragon
  12. Mali’ker Folk of the Moon and Earth The banditry clamored around the soft glow of their fires, their jubilance filling the nearby woods. The wind whipped up leaves and other debris in the dark around the camp. “Oh please, please don't! Here this is all I have, just please let me go!” one mocked to the mirth of his comrades as he attempted to wipe the crimson off his blade. “Alfred, tell that story of yours about that shite colored pointy eared prick, the one with the glass on his face.” The brawny and scarred man set down his mug with a smirk. “Hannibal, Edgar and me was collectin’ tolls on the road and was ‘bout to come back to camp but this limpin creature comes on down the road.” Alfred rose, feigning a limp with a chuckle. “Thing lacked all color, like one them farfolk traders but darker. So we holler out to the arse that we’s collecting tolls for the road. The darkie is wobblin’ his way towards us with that there cane” he pointed to a nearby piece of warped wood sitting in the mud. “And this blackie is old; has more wrinkles than yer mother Igor. Anyways he tells us he has nothing but some stones and paper, so Edgar goes to pat him down and is knocked right on his back. The elf is wielding the cane like he's some mercenary or something, so Hannibal and me decide his life is a worthy toll. So since Edgar is rolling about on the ground like a child, I grab my sword while Hannibal goes for his bow.” He coughed. “The old man’s cane is made of somethin’ very strong and won't break no matter my multiple swings. When Hannibal finally gets his head out his arse and nocks an arrow he misses by a horse and a half. Soon enough though I have him on his back leg and am about to send him below when Hannibal decides to be a half decent shot and steal my loot.” “Oi he nearly had you on yer arse Alfred. the fock ye mean?” a ragged haired man started from the opposite side of the fire. “Oh shut up Hannibal ye stole that kill and y--” the brute’s response was cut short as an arrowhead protruded from his neck. The men around the fire stood up quickly, reaching for their swords in dismay. “We’re under atta--!” the shout was drowned out by a large “POP!” as light exploded in the darkness, a beam of electricity throwing the remnants of Hannibal onto a nearby tent. From the darkness of the treeline came creatures garbed in dark armour, only visible by their silver and white hair reflecting in the little moonlight that dripped through the canopy. They cut down those that fought, their black steel blades sending bodies to the ground with a thud. Edgar ran, his feet felt like they were bleeding, his rotund figure making slow progress in the night. He tripped. He tried to rise but his foot was caught on something, he reached down to try and free himself. As he felt the dirt shifting he felt a moment of pure terror as the ground began to swallow his leg. “Help!” he shouted, desperate for death to a blade rather than suffocation. From the darkness stepped out a tall figure dressed in dark robes, muttering words softly under their breath. Then another and another. The frames paused a few meters from Edgar as now only his neck protruded from the ground. The panicked bandit caught only the glint of a dagger as it was passed to the robed mali’ker. The figure bent down, revealing a scarred blue-black face with silver hair underneath their hood. “Please! I have money! I have treasure! Just let me go!” The dark elf moved his free hand to Edgars lips, holding one finger in front of his mouth to quiet him. The shaman spoke in a deep voice, a foreign language that sent a tremble to Edgar’s core. All went black for Edgar as the red plasma flowed down his neck to the ground below. The figures turned, and with a militaristic gait, strode off into the darkness. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Sable Principality of Vira'ker “They’re creatures of the night. Just tell yourself they're only stories.” The Mali’ker are a proud and strong race and thus ought to have a government that is as well. The Sable Principality of Vira’ker aims to assemble all dark elves together in a cohesive and effective manner. The Onyx, Ker’nor culture and religion, are encouraged all throughout the Confederation. The Vira’ker is comprised of a Prince and the council of clans. Elders of the Confederation Each member of the Council of Clans granted their recognition for Princeship by the Chief may select a member within their clan to be an Elder of Vira’ker. This means that when it is time for a new Chief, the council must select said chief from the appointed Elders. A Chief may also appoint one Elder that may not be from a clan should they wish for him/her to be considered as his successor. The Council of Clans The Council of Clans consists of each main clan that makes up the confederation. A Clan may enter the council by council vote or through extreme service to the Confederation. Each Clan is expected to do their part in service to their kinsmen and in doing so will often focus on a certain field of study, i.e. magicks, war, art, etc. Current Clans Syllar The clan Syllar has existed for many years, though often not in the limelight. They’ve resided in stone caverns biding their time till such a point that they believed right to unite their kinsfolk together. With a focus on political intrigue, culture, and martial matters, the clan holds notable titles within the Principality. These ‘ker also mingle in magic arts but do not let the arts distract them from their duties or their kin. Des’Nox Of elder blood, the night kin have watched over the dark elven people for centuries. Now, they work to guide the Onyx sons and daughters onto the path of honour and Spiritual worship. They are craftsmen and warrior priests, fiercely devoted to the night sky and the Ancestors working ever towards their people. T’Dyrr Clan T’Dyrr began upon the marriage of Ganzorig and Ele’ira, binding the two formerly prominent clans of Ker’nor into a single family, as a off-set branch of Des’nox, following the banishment of the Vincrute for heresy. Members of Clan T’Dyrr are taught to look to the Ancestors above all else, with other religions and duties being accepted alongside the Mali’ker beliefs.Alongside religious and personal beliefs, Duty is taught above all else, with the belief that word of mouth contains one of the highest forms of value and integrity. Uuthlini Bards, brewmasters, dancers, jesters, chefs, and general merrymakers known for their love of celebration and, curiously, the color blue, earning them the affectionate nickname of “blueberries” among the other clans. Known to completely surround themselves in their family color, they believe blue to represent freedom, creativity, and inspiration; three traits highly prized in their clan. The descendants of Arganos “The Festive” Uuthlini seek to promote and embody a spirit of mirth and conviviality among their people. ((https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/172985-clan-uuthlini/ )) Phradic Warriors, able-bodied, and fierce. Often being viewed as the more militaristic of mali’ker, they value tradition and fighting above all else (save for their very own clanmates). Only those with the most prowess and strength welcomed into the clan, as it is not for the faint of heart. Reg’Wir The Clan Reg'Wir specialize in cultures, arts and knowledge. From a hidden dark past, this clan recently arose to assist their kin in the dream of unification. Reg'Wirs counts many merchants, artists, scholars, artisans and strategists within their family. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Administration Positions Prince of the Vira’ker The Prince is the recognized leader of the Vira’ker and is responsible for the safety of those within the realm. The Prince acts in coordination with his council and the clans, ultimately holding the power of binding contracts. Drawing their power from the Onyx codex, they are ritually crowned in front of their kin by the Lord Auspex. Lord Arbiter The Lord Arbiter is in charge of all diplomacy and the recordkeeping that goes along with such, along with standing as the senior judicial authority in the lands of the Mali’ker. Often taking part in foreign diplomatic missions in representation or assistance to the Prince, the Arbiter’s main role is to document all legal and diplomatic proceedings taking place within the Principality, as well as relating to such. The final ceremonial role the Arbiter takes is the ability to hold judicial trial and administer punishments to individuals arrested by the Div’cruan or other Mali’ker policing forces, as well as host appeal boards in order to review banishments. Hortiater The Hortiater is the Head of the Div’cruan and all Mali’ker military forces. As Head of the Div’cruan, not only is the Hortiater expected to be a zealous individual, but also tactically cunning and politically attuned in order to deal with the intricacies of Geo-political warfare. While only the Prince of the Mali’ker may grant the title of Ordinator to its Military Commanders, the Hortiater’s recommendation is almost always a requirement. Chamberlain Assigns living situations for all citizens and can charge tax on behalf of the Principality. Also able to give evictions and sets up events for citizens to partake in. They are in charge of setting up stalls and the market for the Principality as well. Lord Auspex The Lord Auspex is in charge of all religious activities within the Principality. Their duty is to that of the Ancestors and the Spirits and making sure the onyx children are guided on the lunar path. They build and maintain a spiritual following in the Principality, devoted to converting wayward ‘Ker onto the path of honour, building and maintaining shrines and totems, blessing kin, and snuffing out heresy. Being sure that the paths of shadow and spider or any other heretical orders never take root. Archmagos The Archmagos position should be held by a neutral practicer of magic. They are responsible for documenting and regulating magic use within the Principality of Vira'ker along with researching anything they can about the realm. The approval of the Chief Scholar is required to use voidal magic within the Principality of Vira'ker and their lands. The Auspex also may veto certain acts of magicks that they deem against the betterment of the Principality. ((Credits to the various folk that helped with this))
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