UnBaed

Smog spreading over the moors of Inmarilla, a bad omen. . . Art by Artem Demura The following is intended as private RP It was so quiet now. One might think to find peace in it, though there was only dread; a gripping tension that made you feel as if you teetered upon the precipice of despair. No silence in this land lasts for long anymore. The siege upon the city never truly ends, like waves crashing into a rocky shore--one by one they hit and ever so slowly carve into the stones. Persistent. Endless. One day Caldhurom might finally fall to the Infernal Scourge; her white, smoke-stained walls will cave in and there will be nothing but slaughter in the streets. One day. . . it would happen, but the denizens were adamant to endure for as long as they could; One day it would come, but not this day. Perhaps if they withstood long enough, they could reclaim their home from the grip of the devils. Perselia stood watch to the east, positioned in one of the towers marking the walls. She had a clear view of the devastation that became of her land; there was a time before she was born that the sun shone over everything. The sky was blue, a bright blue; the fields were green and bursting with life--people could even spend days out there, with no worry. There were beliefs that such sights might still be found today, far off - perhaps past the mountains that defined the eastern horizon, viewable through a haze of perpetual smog. Some days the smoke would be so dense that the land and sky would blur together in a muddled mess of darkness and fiery glows. This time, however, Perselia could view those mountains--the first time the atmosphere cleared up enough in a month, since the last advance against Caldhurom was made. The light of her candle flickered, a few soft crackles followed; she had been on watch for three hours by the sound of it. There was no other good way to tell the time there, given that the sun could rarely be viewed; there would be no shadows to measure. Perselia's watch would be a few more long hours as this, sitting in watchful silence; almost in suspense. Yet to view those mountains brought a stillness to her; respite was found in the wonderment of a land marked by no scars of the devils. . . Though she was stirred from those idle dreams, as something caught her attention to the east. R E P O R T O F P E R S E L I A Hour I: A swarm of Rotters spotted moving to the south, likely perched near Faith's Rock. Dim light viewable around there, hellfire. Hour II: Scavengers returned to the fields, no more than twenty imps. Caravan potted to northern gate; more refugees. Hour III: Light to the east, a flash--white and small. Seen near the mountains, cannot be the sun. Hour IV: Flash of light spotted again to the east--cause unknown. Hour V: Scavengers have left. No other flashes seen to the east.

@Xx_BloodStalk_xX

guys i think i found the stronghold, we need to get 5 more eyes of ender to open the portal to the ender dragon

he could help

What are your thoughts of LotC now that you've been here for a year? What are some characters of other players that you've seen and admired? Do you got anything you're interested in RPing in the future?

A depiction of a hellish knight seen roaming the wilds of the Lost Lands Art by Artem Demura The following is intended as private RP All had become relatively quiet now; as peaceful as things had gone within those hills by that smoke-stained bastion. It was difficult to tell the time, given that the sky was perpetually hidden behind a thick layer of clouds wrought from smog and smoke. Ash dusted everything, even gathering in scattered puddles of blood and mud that made up that silenced battlefield. Prime picking grounds for this Biter, who flitted from the scattered corpses of men to feast upon their eyes. Its cousins sought their teeth. Though, it wasn't only men who dotted this field - devils and fiends joined them, feasted upon and picked by other imps and scavengers. Nothing would be wasted, and it wasn't as if the mortals would send another battalion forth anytime soon. Yet there was a flicker of light, and the echo of static just beyond the veil of smoke rising up from the scattered fires ahead. Two figures still lived, it seemed, and looked over that smouldering field of corpses. One was large, larger than any of the mortals the Biter had seen before; dressed in white and bronze, with a hellish tail peaking out of its robes--certainly a devil. The other was shorter, a mortal elf certainly--yet dressed like no soldier. The pair looked entirely out of place. They were speaking to one another, yet their words didn't trail far for the Biter to pick up anything clearly. The Biter skittered closer, chattering and chirping to its cousins through its little gnashing teeth; the imp was no larger than a man's hand. It hopped about and fluttered with fleshy, bat-like wings to give its small leaps distance--though it froze as it realized it caught the eye of that masked devil and quickly hid. The elf seemed distracted, perhaps even distressed, as she took in everything. Hasty words were passed on from that mortal before she made for a nearby hill, moving even further away from that curious Biter. The devil followed, fortunately pulling his attention away from that little scavenging imp. It wondered what their eyes would taste like, if it could even reach them without being crushed to nothing. It decided it was better to not risk such a thing; there was less room for hiding upon that hillside. And so, the Biter watched those two with its beady eyes. Every now and then, it'd hear a few words carried by those two, Chaos, Balance, Destruction; words spoken either with intensity or passion, this odd pair seemed to share some form of argument as gestures were made to the dreary state of the land. They stood there for a long while, just. . . talking, even persisting after the Biter had sought more meals from that battlefield. It wasn't until it spotted another flicker of light and echo of static, that the Biter realized those two strangers were suddenly gone.

sha\

I'm personally open to having that period of phobia/anxiety around whatever cured you made not permanent. I still think it should be a long duration to prevent players from trying to avoid RP consequences and to still have some sense of punishment involved for their story, but keeping that phobia as a permanent thing can hamper longer-living characters' character growth in a narrative A complete and full recovery, however, I don't think should be a thing given how this is a massive transition of lifestyles for that character - literally making them a predator amongst their own kind

this looks sick

No harm in stepping away from the server, even if only a little bit while you still play other characters. The server isn't meant to be a chore or a place for you to feel poorly about yourself, it's a place of enjoyment and intended to be a healthy outlet for creative energy, ect. If you're ever feeling doubtful about yourself when deciding to join a staff team, just... don't. I'm not saying don't apply for staff, I'm saying to not doubt yourself or feel like you can't apply just because others are. The sun doesn't question its own position in the sky, or worry over its brightness compared to other stars, because we love its light and warmth either way for what it is. You're guaranteed to not get welcomed onto a team if you never apply in the first place, and don't let a denial get you down because there's always the future. I'll keep an eye out for you on the server, in the mean time! Would be cool to RP with you :D [still need to give you that flute...]

My only concern of this is the AI ripping off current skinners already existing on the server, by stealing their styles or "building off of" their work. Similar issues already exist with artists and AI with their styles and assets of their artwork being stolen from without their permission and mashed into something else.

Siliti are inherently unkillable [yeah you can put them on CD, but they can always come back] They have peak human strength [which i've heard mordu compare to olympic athletes and strongmen capable of being able to hull massive trucks, bite strength as strong as a wolf] They may not be the strongest encounter in CRP, but they have dozens of other abilities and powers to strengthen them in other cases with blood magic and other Silit Rites I think the only option of this that I would be okay with this, for lowering cool downs, is lessening the cool down of death by fire to a week or so - the others shouldn't be altered. It's not a big deal to lose out on RP for a day or two, lowering cool downs by that much just makes the Rite of Revival useless I would like to see certain abilities of Silit made less into murder hobo incentives

I see no issue with how the cool downs currently are atm - silit are fairly OP already and have the means of securing themselves, these extended cool downs are intended to be punishing for any recklessness or just a natural drawback to the CA. There's already ways to try and work around these in RP, you just need to work for them [as referred to above by some other players] - I feel like writing a change in the lore isn't the way to do this personally.

Funniest moment for you on the server? What's a big source of inspiration for your writing, if there is any? Favorite characters on the server that you've seen that aren't yours? What's something you've wanted to RP, but haven't been sure with how to approach it?

I used to make so many of these, so I'll put my favorite ones in a spoiler

Funniest moment on LotC? What are some characters of other people that you think are neat? What inspires your writing for your RP?

They emerged during the twilight hour, the reddening sun having dipped beneath the horizon by this point and leaving hues of pinks and lavender in a sky slowly becoming more freckled in stars. The distant glow of bonfires of that camp could still be seen, Ilaria found herself unable to clear that disgusted feeling from herself as she eyed them; now regarding this whole venture of sight-seeing as soured by the foul acts she'd witnessed there. "Nothing but a facade, falsehoods surrounding those fires. They desecrate the resting places of the dead, spitting on their very memory, and claim to be heroes." Even despite the wretchedness that elf felt, a hint of pity crept into her mind and brought out a sigh for her. As her and her travel companions turned to resume their travels, she couldn't help by spare a final glance to that distant campsite. ". . . May they at least one day reflect on their place in this world, and learn to find compassion through their introspection. May they walk The Shore."

The Original Spell: Rite of Scrubbing The Amendment: Tweaking Redlines “Amputated mystics and wights cannot perform successful scrubbing as it would demanifest their ectoplasmic limbs/weaken them.” Changed to… Wights cannot perform successful scrubbing as they are composed of ectoplasm and are phantasmal in nature, the ward would only weaken and bring discomfort to them as it works against their nature. Amputated mystics may perform scrubbing, though the ward would forcefully demanifest their ectoplasmic limbs if they are present; the process being searingly painful and immediately destroying the ghostly limb–requiring the amputated mystic to go through the usual process of regenerating their arm. If an amputated mystic’s ethereal arm isn’t manifested during the Rite, they would still experience discomfort in the form of mild phantom pains, while being incapable of forming their ectoplasmic limb due to the active ward. Additional Redline… If scrubbing is performed around hindered objects, plantlife, and animals–their spectral traits would be painlessly cleansed away and leave the material with a mundane appearance again. Explanation: Earlier today while I was conducting a lesson, I was reviewing spells and had noticed strange wording in the lore’s redlines that felt like it didn’t correctly fit well with how the spell is described and used. Rite of Scrubbing is a unique ritual for Mystics, as it doesn’t actually require ectoplasm to perform it–it actually stands as a means for warding/providing shields/barriers for spectral presences and influences [as explained above]. The original redline under the focus of the amendment describes that Amputated Mystics would have their ectoplasmic arms demanifested (correct) but then says it weakens them–which doesn’t specify how, nor explain why they would be incapable of performing the Rite with just one arm. Any Mystic is already weakened while in an area affected by Scrubbing, given they can’t cast their ectoplasm-fueled spells amidst those wards; the only additional weakness an Amputated Mystic would logically have is that absence of their spectral limb–and a greater risk to be harmed by the wards if they’re not mindful. For the addition of a redline, there is another spell known to Mystics called Rite of Hindering–a small use of it in the form of a cantrip can permit a Mystic to imbue various items, plantlife, and live animals with ectoplasm. It’s entirely harmless and only gives them a cool visual effect, while also being a small source of attraction/comfort to spirits and wisps. It just makes sense that if Scrubbing were conducted around them, it would undo that effect on them–given Mystics are also capable of cleansing Menhirs (which is a greater product of Hindering) with this Rite. *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ**✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭ The Original Spell: Rite of Harvest The Amendment: Altering the visions received in this Rite Third paragraph down "Once the rite is complete, the individual would find themselves winded, a brief vision pertaining to themes of the undead, spiritual, and occult playing throughout their mind - often taken as a revelatory experience, or as an ill omen, but the exact details and reaction are left to the victim's choice." Changed to… Once the rite is complete, the individual would find themselves winded, a brief vision pertaining to themes of the undead, spiritual, and occult playing throughout their mind - fabricated by the Mystic conducting this Rite, though the reaction to such visions is left to the victim's interpretation. Explanation: This spell feels as if it could have a lot of potential for Mystics to create flavorful RP interactions between other players, though a lot of power is ripped away from the Mystic when they're unable to actually influence a vision for another character to experience. It can eventually lead to awkward moments or disappointing conclusions to build up of a theme in RP when all the Mystic can do is write "Your character would have a vision pertaining to themes of the undead and occult." It's a peak behind Oz' curtain, ruining the magic and mystery of a forming narrative. Lore in Question: Spells mentioned: Rite of Scrubbing Rite of Hindering Rite of Harvest [Found under Sacraments of Pale] Amputation [Found in spoiler under Rite of Consumption] Edit 1/4/23 - I decided to edit one of the proposed redlines that an Amputated Mystic would actually experience phantom pains while standing in a warded area, even if their arms aren't forcefully demanifested by it. My reasoning behind it is due to what grants an Amputated Mystic the ability to manifest their ghostly arms in the first place; which is an indestructible menhirous ring forever bound to their stumped limb upon application. Although it wouldn't be able to be purged by the ward, it could still provide some discomfort to the Amputated Mystic. Just makes more sense after further thought, and can add some more flavor to RP

I'd only want voice chat RP if we all had mw3 quality mics

It's always fun to branch out to try new niches of RP - I think you would really enjoy it. Unwillingly will help you for sure