UnBaed

I could potentially make it so that an Eidola could make their own Vessel, though part of why I wrote it so that a Mystic is required is to encourage more interaction between Eidola and Mystics. Eidola should have more of a reason to want to stick around to their creators/community instead of just disappearing off on their own entirely. The limit in having spare bodies is also intended as a means of discouraging wreckless CRP behavior. In the past, Eidola have really only existed as a means of being a weapon and tool for soul-collecting, or standing in as powerful weapons for conflict. Get killed? No biggie, I can just respawn at my menhir hidden behind 5 locked doors and a hidden redstone one and try again. Not pointing any fingers with that scenario, of course, but there definitely should be some more punishment for dying. If an Eidola could make their bodies then... what RP interaction comes from it, if they can just RP making one by themselves? I'd prefer to not have soul fragments be required, since that also encourages more murder-hobo antics (I know that new augment is made, but I severely despise lore requiring players to harm another for any mechanical gain--it's like a homework assignment, gets tedious and RP is just motivated to get the shiny lore thing and dip without developing much of a narrative) Depending on whether or not this piece is accepted and implemented, I was considering coming up with more augments for paleknights to give them room to develop their own aesthetics or have unique flavor added to their RP--soul fragments could be considered more for these. But this would be at the bottom of my list for things to do right now

Intent with Amendment: The purpose behind writing this is to fix what I believe has been a glaring issue with the Eidola CA; it is too easy and inconsequential to make, and the room for character development as one seems incredibly limited–and currently encourages for too much “murder hobo” RP, and the only real progress or development one can really achieve is only getting more powerful mechanically. This amendment will seek to alter the creation process of an Eidola, while also offering changes for the mindsets and purpose of an Eidola’s existence for a story’s narrative. This isn’t intended to disrupt any currently existing character niches, but to only open up more opportunities for Eidola characters to explore with if they wished. Creation Process: In order for a soul to become imbued with stone and be made into an Eidola, a Vessel is required for the ritual to commence; which shall serve as a container for the soul. The Vessel, otherwise known as the stone body, is carefully carved out by the hands of two mystics and treated with their ectoplasm; it is considered a sacred and delicate process–requiring years of dedication in order to form a suit for one soul. [2 OOC Weeks] The art of sculpting and stone carving becomes a valued practice among Mystics. Once a stone body has been created, it must be submerged within water with a menhir made by the same two mystics nearby. The two mystics must work together then; one imbues their ectoplasm into the Vessel while the other transfers a soul into it. A soul is only suitable to be transferred into a Vessel should it be a long-standing Anchored Ghost–with its phylactery on hand. The spirit may be guided into the Vessel, where it will undergo a stasis period of slumber [until its CA application is accepted]. Its phylactery is merged with the menhir by imbuing it with ectoplasm and binding it to the ethereal stone; once such a rite is finished, the item that once served as the phylactery looks as if its been fossilized into the menhir. Requires OOC and IRP consent of the Anchored Ghost. A Mystic may make one Eidola at a time, two Mystics are required for the creation of one Eidola. Anchored Ghosts must exist for 6 OOC weeks before they can be made into an Eidola While a Vessel is being created, it must be represented in game with a build and ST Approved sign. Once the ST Approved sign is placed, an Eidola CA may be posted on the forums exactly 2 OOC weeks later. The Eidola CA must include a screenshot of the approved build and sign. The two Mystics involved in the creation must comment with proof of at least five emotes showing their characters actively worked on the Vessel; both carving the stone and imbuing it with their ectoplasm. Should a Vessel be destroyed in the creation process, the two Mystics would need to start over. A Vessel in progress has the same durability as any stone statue, requiring approximately three emotes of heavy blunt force to crack it. Cannot create an Eidola while in combat. Should an Eidola perish following its creation–it may reform after one OOC day [given its phylactery is unharmed], though only as a spirit. Vessels are not infinite, and must be remade when destroyed, in order to house the soul again. Spares may be created by the hand of the Eidola, through the carving of stone and submerging of waters. It is a one year process (1 OOC Week) and is concluded when an Eidola imbues the spare Vessel with 3 liturgies of their ectoplasm. An ethereal link is formed between the spare Vessel and the phylactery-menhir through the imbuing of essence. Unused Vessels must remain within five meters of their bound menhir, lest the link be disrupted and 3 more liturgies would be required to establish it again. A phylactery-menhir can only withstand so many Vessels being bound to it, limiting it to just two. Spare Vessels must be represented with a ST sign and an in-game build. Spare Vessels must be either damp with trickling water, or submerged entirely, while stored near the menhir [5 blocks]. An active Vessel counts as a link to a menhir, meaning only one spare can exist at a time. If an Eidola dies and is without a spare Vessel, they are returned to the state of an Anchored Ghost with their menhir still serving as their phylactery. 1 OOC day to reform upon death. If an Eidola dies and has a spare Vessel available, the soul may return to it. 1 OOC day to reform upon death. If the Eidola stands before their Menhir while inhabiting a Vessel, it may be able to alter its shape and appearance in three emotes–while following guidelines and redlines of Eidola limitations and aesthetics. Augments are lost on an Eidola, should its Vessel be destroyed–and must be applied again. New Mental Effects: While as an Eidola, the soul has weathered through a burdensome journey of trauma and alteration; they are greatly changed and bear many scars upon their mind. They may suffer through bouts of extreme depression, struggle to maintain optimism, be gripped with anxiety, paranoia. Generally, they shall have a dreary and gloomy disposition but are not prone to complete despair. The strongest and most prevalent emotion an Eidola shall be gripped with, more than anything else, is fear. The fear an Eidola has is the fear of stagnancy, of lacking any purpose and having their transformative and grueling journeys be all for nothing. It is a desperate feeling and a concept that grips their reality, and shall affect their paths moving forward. Comfort can be found anywhere an Eidola may find themselves of use in; be it through an ideology or religion, or other forms of servitude. They may first look to their creators for guidance, but will branch out and roam if they are given no direction; no matter where they go, however, an Eidola shall always be impressionable by those who formed them and feel inclined to be around other undead. The inclination to be around undead, primarily spectral undead, is quite strong for an Eidola. While they may feel alienated from the living, there is still an echo of themselves seen within the lingering spirits of undeath. The second most strongest urge an Eidola shall feel is the desire to guard and shield fellow spirits, utilizing their imposing and durable bodies of stone for such things. Should an Eidola be destroyed and go without a Vessel, they may suffer from increased paranoia and feel as if they are vulnerable and spiraling without the container of stone to keep them grounded. Mental ailments are to increase in this period, until a new Vessel may be provided. Current redlines in lore still apply. Reversion Rite: As anything that is created, it can be undone. Whether an Eidola has served its purpose, has made the wrong enemies, or simply requests such an act. . . Their former phylacteries may be extracted from their menhirs and their binds to their Vessels of stone can be undone. Two Mystics are required for the feat, and are not required to be the ones to initially form that specific Eidola. The Rite of Scrubbing is to be conducted for four consecutive emotes to weaken the phylactery-menhir, and permit for the Mystics to chip the old phylactery item of the Anchored Ghost out from the stone. Once this is concluded, the Eidola will be reverted to an Anchored Ghost and no longer be able to bind themselves to a Vessel. The soul of the Eidola has endured much at this rate, and has grown to be more fragile–capable of transforming into an Eidola one last time before this process of uncreation would permanently kill them. Two Mystics are required in reverting an Eidola back to an Anchored Ghost. Should an Eidola be reverted, their CA is to be denied and they must have an accepted Ghost CA in place for the character. Does not require OOC consent. If reverted, an Anchored Ghost may transform into an Eidola only one more time before the reversion process would shatter their phylactery and permanently kill them. Comment of Palelords: They are to be left as is, save for the mental changes being applied. The concept of Vessels and reversion are beyond Palelords for the extreme efforts and sacrifices paid to get them where they are now. Personally, I'd prefer to see them shelved given how massive they are. Edit Log: Edit 6/28/23 - I've changed it so that Eidola can make their own spare Vessels, without the need to get a Mystic to aid them. A point was made that an Eidola would already need to get into contact with a Mystic in order to get new augments for their new body, so RP is already encouraged there. This is just to make it less tedious.

It's been a dark year for me, on a mental field Easy for many people to forget the little things surrounding them, that make life beautiful--which makes reminders as these good.

Personally, I feel like even if lore provides a lot of context as to why it does what it does - there is still room for character interpretation and theorizing. It can even be clarified in the lore that how it works isn't known in RP. If you're concerned that providing background context will discourage players from wanting to form their own headcanons, then I'd personally have a lot of doubt of them forming headcanons on their own. Lore and narratives on the server are what we make of it, I personally feel like we ought to just encourage players to form more creative perspectives of things on the server--even for some small thing as a drug--and not always rely on lore backstories to always make the narrative for us. Some people do it already with theories about the void, alchemy, and some other magics. From my experience as ST, I doubt this would be passed without clarifications being requested Having read through your lore more thoroughly too, I'd personally suggest heightening the effects of the Ruibrium to be something different than cactus green for orcs or a minor hallucinogen [also might want to add a redline that you can't sneak this drug to other characters without them noticing, as well as explaining more how strong/durable weapons and tools of the raw form actually are, and if there's any chance of an overdose]. If it's meant to be an ST material [with how you mention the nodes], there should be something more special with its properties.

While this is a fair point to make, clarity in lore is far better than obscurity. It can be written in a manner where characters would need to conduct extensive research to understand it--where they can form their own opinions [or just not be able to research it and form their own myths], but it should still have some mentions as to why it works the way it works. It just helps further establishes its place in the server lore and could potentially open up opportunities for how other pieces of lore on the server could interact with it based on why it does xyz, while also ensuring no one has a crazy take about the lore that goes beyond what's been accepted in the past because of a grey area

Across the land, booklets might be found–sharing a simple tale. ✲· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ❋ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·✲ Shining so bright and tender, she is golden in the broad of azure; The Sun. Her rays of light brush over the land, fingers of gold sift through grassy meadows as if they were the hair of a lover. The water of ponds and lakes dance to capture her image and draw her eye, and grieve with the rains as each droplet falls away from her position in the sky. A day passed and The Sun was forming her cushion of clouds. Yet she would not recline, and instead delicately summoned a single droplet to pass on one wish. “I wish to see a mountain divided,” spoke The Sun. The Droplet’s bliss and awe melted into puzzlement and doubt, though he would never dream to sadden nor disappoint The Sun. Yet, he still couldn’t understand how he could make her wish real; and so, he asked how a mere droplet as himself could ever pull off such a grand and impossible feat. “You do not yet know of your strength,” her words were sweet and golden. “All you need to do is run, as water does best.” Uncertainty still filled The Droplet, though he heeded the directions provided to him. He promised The Sun he would do all he could to make her happy, even if he still felt so lost. He believed that if his love for her was true, it would guide him to the right path. So she released him, and let the rains wash over the lands. The Droplet could not shake away his uncertainty, yet he was driven. For a while, he only drifted along and few others really heeded his message. Divide a mountain? ................................We are but mere drops of water! ..............................................................................Why even bother to try, if we shall fail? ..................................................................................................................We are not meant for such grand things. You are naive..................................... It is impossible....... From lake to lake, pond to pond, none would listen. Cycles passed on, before The Droplet realized a horrible flaw in his journey. If he could not even have faith, true faith, in his efforts–why should anyone else? His words were weak as was his spirit; he shall do nothing but falter and fall into stagnancy as the cold depths should he continue to be so aimless. As he fell with the next rains,the flashes of lightning and roars of thunder awoke his own spark and he chose a lake. The Droplet, as all the others, would always mourn the time of rains–for they would fall so far away from The Sun’s light. He believed they were always casted away, shunned–but how could that be, if she always drew them back into her sky? Perhaps, The Droplet thought, she never intended to shun. He contemplated the rush of air felt during each fall, and sought to chase the feeling even as he fell into the lake. He raced about, ran and ran on–for it was what water did best. The Droplet rushed about for hours, for he never wished to stop now, and found that others had taken to following him. Before long, a current had formed. Together, the waters began to carve the land. It began with soft sands and soil, though they cut deeper and deeper through the passing cycles and found that even stones could be smoothed within their growing currents. Rapids gradually sliced through rocks, and the water roared like the thunder that signaled for their rain. When another cycle was set to pass, The Droplet was summoned to The Sun once again. She was luminous and glimmering, an enchanting light. “It has been many years, but you have found your way,” she said, her voice was melodious. The Sun brushed aside the clouds, and revealed a split mountain to The Droplet. A canyon had come to form, with a rapid river snaking and coursing through it. It branched off from the lake The Droplet had chosen, in that cycle of rain ages ago. His runlet had turned into a brook, and the brook into a stream, and that stream into a river. “A small droplet, you may be,” uttered The Sun in a warm voice. “But such means nothing of your potential. Unified, you now see that you could do much more.” ✲· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ❋ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·✲ ..../\ ...{.-} ;_.-'\ { _.}_ \.-' / `, \ | / ..\ | ,/ ................\|_/

In the dawn, when the waves brushed most softly against the sandy beach, a fatigued elf emerged from her shack. Today was the day to freshen the seed she'd often leave out for the local birds, many often having rather colorful plumes and unique song. Many were yet to awaken in this new day, so all was quiet in the dim hues of the pale morning--save for one sound. A throaty croak, sharp and small; the song of a dark-feathered omen. The Crow was perched upon one of the boards propped up in the sands, its head tilted to eye the startled elf. She stood there for a moment, a breath puffed out of her to reduce her tension and mutter to herself of delusions needing to be dismissed. She carried on in laying out the seed, and pouring out fresh water--unable to shrug off the weight of the Crow's watchful gaze. Within her, much conflict stirred; grief and fear, anger and softness. It was gnawing, nagging, itching, and prickling. It was all until she abruptly sought to storm off into her home and rid herself of the bird's presence. Though, something caught the rays of the morning sun, and glimmered in that Crow's eye; a small coin, intended as a token for its habit of collecting.

this is your chance to pull the ultimate funny and not respond to any questions also who/what got you into minecraft itself

i hear its not even permanently saving u from potato donation spam it blocks it for like 30 minutes

What is even the point of a race change

She woke up with a mild start, a mere sharp inhale before the weight of grogginess washed over her. However long she had been asleep, it was hard to tell; she often drifted in and out through the night, never quite having a fully accomplished rest. Her aurum knife had wound up on the floor this time, however, yet she just laid there. Harrowed eyes peered up to that ceiling as her thumb pressed continuously into her palm, feeling for the eye she only had in her dreams. By the time dawn struck, three new drawings were added into her messy murals decorating the walls of her shack; the foreboding crane, the blind elf, and a lone tower.

I feel like forcing NL's to PK upon death isn't the proper solution to the issue. As everyone else has been commenting above, that rule would certainly be used by a lot of bad-faith RPers, or simply just players who solely focus on PvP and OOC politicking on this server. Would an NL be forced to PK if they got killed in a PvP encounter? I'm sure you'll find a lot of players unwilling to PK their characters over such events, so why should we force NL's to do the same? I agree that there should be some more consequences to dying, a PK would be ideal but with how things are on the server right now, it just wouldn't go efficiently. I think a better solution to rooting out this issue is reflecting on how we conduct ourselves on the server. Too many people around nation "RP" take things far too seriously OOCly, but I kind of don't blame them--how can you not care about a project you've poured a lot of effort and hours into? That shouldn't mean, however, that you've the right to turn toxic and hateful toward someone opposing you. Lines still need to be better defined, which far too many players don't even realize such boundaries exist The issue isn't some NL's not PKing. The issue is the spam of boastful victory posts after every PvP encounter; snide comments thinly hidden under RP emotes; hateful mindsets being promoted against player groups in times of RP conflict; the encouragement of harassment to communities and wanting to disrupt their RP with a flood of PvP raids. It's just too much OOC being dragged into places where there should be more RP People want their characters to have dynamic and interesting stories. While not everything can go as we'd like for a narrative, that doesn't make it bad - I feel like we'll find a lot more players, NL's too, partaking in nation politics and conflict being more open to PKing on death if they were given genuinely good faith RP. I'd certainly feel a lot better about PKing if whoever killed my character wasn't about to fortnite dance all over the forums about it, and instead gave me some entertaining RP.

Some dead, cynical Haeseni wonders if the Barbanov bloodline will have a curious gene where all firstborn children are male in the coming years.

this will severely effect the trout population

fartpack w

The waves lapped at the sandy shore, the sun's warmth was gentle and the cool winds stirred the chimes she had hung up the other day. She was cross-legged upon the sand and faced the sea, yet her eyes were closed in meditation. Somewhere far, yet within, she gazed upon another shoreline; dreary and swathed in a mist that turned the waters gray. Two others gazed with her, silent; as quiet as any wreckage would be after a raging storm--it would be many years before they could heal from the wounds of grief of that old home lost. Yet a small shadow danced over Ilaria's eyes, and she opened them to regard that shimmering coast of sapphire waters, no longer flanked by that duo. Gliding through the winds was an Albatross, an omen. "Perhaps now is our time to heal, and begin anew."

There was a similar issue with this with another player I won't name to prevent harassment; they made Fiver videos for LotC, I'll just say that. That player is a mature adult and sold mature content off the server, but their username on the server matched their twitter handle - a simple google search of their name would bring you to their twitter, where you'd immediately see graphic content of them on their profile. I personally don't care what they do as an adult, what bothered me the most was how easily accessible and traceable that content was just by their username alone--leaving it possible for anyone on the server to find. If you're going to be on a server with minors on it, you should be obligated to change your username if its tied to incredibly mature content; AKA, nothing from LotC should be be able to be traced back to Rule 34 I think a simple addition/clarification of the rules would help with cases like these

When light returned, it was red and glimmered with hatred of the Hells as it illuminated the cold and resolute face of the warlock; the Guide's betrayal of the caravan became known as the chattering of fiends echoed from the shadows around them. [Art by Egil Paulson] The following is intended as private RP They had been on the road for approximately three grueling and miserable days. Yet, such is what Alec accepted to face when he opted to join The Seekers; the patrol to sweep over the Inmarilla countryside; it was the duty of these squadrons to scout for sightings of fiends, or to escort what caravans of refugees that were spat out of the smoke-stained horizon of the east. The few that could be reached in time spoke only of the encroaching future of fire and brimstone; every passing day, the scent of war grew thicker and thicker upon the winds that passed over the moors. And every passing day, the howling of fiends echoed more throughout the night. It wouldn't be long until the sun would be choked out in smoke, and the people would need to seek shelter within the bastion in the mountains. The vast and broad landscape provided them with an advantage in spotting strange sights, primarily fires in the night - either from lanterns of survivors, or hell-flame of the demons that reached the caravans before The Seekers could. Alec expected he would often have to handle the dead, whenever his squadron encountered remnants of lost caravans torn apart by the roving fiends; however, he was treated with a far more disturbing sight than he could have imagined. At most, there would be two or three ravaged or charred corpses--with absolutely no trace of anyone else, despite counting several wagons. There was talk of folk being taken, yet to where remained uncertain; little is ever heard back from those who would be sent to track them. With the dark days stalking closer and closer, nothing could go wasted now. You could try to save any life at arm's reach of you, but any further and the soul is considered lost and you'd be a fool to step after it. Although there were no souls to save in the charred caravans, they were still suitable for pillaging and bringing material back to the capital; such was the duty of Alec's squadron now. Upon the evening of their third day of riding, smoke was spotted upon the horizon that signaled another unfortunate caravan. It wasn't too far off from one of the evacuated hamlets, which looked partially charred in parts too. With the distance between them, they wouldn't be able to reach it til the morning; the nights were hardly ever safe within the moorlands--such is primarily when caravans were ambushed, or even the bands of Seekers. Each day, however, the invading fiends grew bolder and bolder. How much longer until we're forced to be drawn into the capital entirely? Alec had wondered as he eyed the vague shapes of shacks as twilight faded into night, behind him his men were just finishing up their ramshackle encampment embraced by large stones. It won't be long, at this rate. There would be no fire to warm them, lest they wish to be found in the following week by another roaming band of Seekers as naught but ravaged corpses. Just as Alec was contemplating the cold night he was to spend, a strange sight had caught his attention by the town; a small flicker of white light. R E P O R T OF S E E K E R A L E C Swarm of Screechers spotted within the southern territories, no more than seven roaming--too far to pursue, and risky with our numbers. Encountered carcass of an elk, unfamiliar tracks around it suspected to be demonic origin; absence of eyes and gnawed horns support this notion Smoke spotted upon the end of the third day near Corswic, remnants of ambushed caravan--four wagons counted. Survivors highly unlikely. Attack likely occurred night before; no sign of Scavengers. Chimney smoke seen in the morning, despite Corswic's evacuation two months back. Led our squadron to locating one sole survivor in critical but stable condition Suffers from serious burns and heavy scratches, though all wounds look freshly treated prior to our arrival Believed to be from nearby caravan Survivor is hardly coherent or functional, multiple signs of a second survivor being present Believed to be a woman, due to the mutterings of the first we've found Yet a second survivor was no where to be found, despite intensive searching Survivor will be returned to city and kept in custody for questioning and examination Copy of material scavenging from Corswic and the caravan will be attached to this report Alec felt odd after sealing his report and handing it off, there was a thought that itched at the back of his mind; something he regrets having left out from his documenting. Yet how could he have put any of it into words without being dismissed as superstition? Back in those moorlands when his squadron was readying to ride back to the capital, it had troubled him greatly that the second survivor of the attack could not be located; all signs pointed to her existence with the treatment of the first survivor's wounds, the tracks of footprints around the room and roads, the small fire in the hearth. Although feverish and hardly conscious, the first woman they had discovered mumbled often; either of demons, lost family, or whoever her companion had been--all while clutching at a small scallop shell as if her life depended on it. His train of thought was disrupted that day of their departure, by another distant flash of white light on the outskirts of Corswic. Although nothing came from those strange sightings, they must have meant something. Yet he still left it out of the report. Meanwhile... The sound of buzzing static faded from her ears as she recovered from that surging feeling; though the cavern walls still spun around her--likely a product of her immense fatigue and exhaustion. With a sound similar to a wheeze, the woman collapsed to her knees and pressed her shoulder to the cool stone beside her as she collected her bearings. That was risky, you know. Staying there for so long. Could have wounded up fried or taken like the rest of them. She offered no response and rubbed at her brow, before realizing how tightly she had gripped something within her palm. It was different this time, there wasn't so much smoke--do you think we could find those flowers He showed you? Her eyes opened to gaze upon a tarnished and delicate bracelet she held, it still smelled of soot. A gift. I cannot continue to persist as a passing shadow; our mark will be fading if I do such. I would not be alive as I am, were it not for a reason; she might live now, due to my efforts. ...... And yes... perhaps a day will come where we find those flowers again.

are you able to adjust the purple, it burns my eyes