Gallic

“Wub?” Replies Fiil’Yar, author of the recently re-instated Codes of Krug.

Llenn Songbird frowns from beyond the grave as Datura forgets the song she wrote for the Snowflake.

As a long-time poltergeist player, I greatly approve of most of this. Many of the things I don’t like I’ve been told are products of compromise with the lore team, such as the inability to be passively invisible to set a scene.

Fiil’Yar, while approving greatly of the institution, refuses to accept the position of Motsham.

can this be used for combat purposes?

Having heard this through a messenger goblin, Fiil’Yar reads and exclaims “He WHAT?” in surprise. Skalp’s own mom didn’t even know.

Fiil’Yar, a scholar and bard herself, makes note of this advertisement as obvious providence. She begins to pack her books, she begins to tune her instruments. She writes a short letter to the establishment, reading as follows: “I am coming.”

Fiil’Yar frowns despite the good news, having hoped she could play a part in diplomatic talks, one of the few things she’s useful for.

what an upstanding community member

yes please I don’t want to PK my gross hagraven tiefling also what can prove “legitimate RP”? I’ve been rp’ing lithren for like almost 2 years now and have no surviving screenshots of her rp’ing with her creator and never had any of her being created in the first place, but like I’ve been rp’ing her for a long time so

Fiil’Yar looks to her kub, who is now taller than her at a mere 10 years old. She sketches the height difference and sends it back to the author of this propoganda.

Llenn Songbird, elven blood, born to a troupe of performers and nomads. Musician, pacifist, but most importantly; Actress. From the day she was born, of all the talents her harsh training kindled, acting was her most prodigious. It was a skill that came naturally to her, for each sunrise she awoke and wore her life like a fitted costume: Repeating the script her family wrote her, fearing failure, dishonor and the consequences it would bring. She praised Kwakwani, the Raven, the trickster, patron of her people: He who gave them their voice, he who takes glee in deceit as much as beauty. Some could call her a liar, but she knew no other life but the motions she practiced. Each night she prayed at the Raven’s altar, yet the stones were silent; Slept. Yet while the gods provided no balm, no freedom from her life of lies, she found other ways to feel whole. Palliative substances that gave a hollow sort of peace. A shadow grew over her. Such tumultuous storms formed from this denial, this acting, that in time she lost her balance: She could no longer weather them. Fiil’Yar, kub of Thurak’Yar; Proud apprentice of an ancient man, born from a pact between he and Akezo, the spirit of healing. The night she was born, she was as a ghost; Something that should have passed, but compelled to remain. Thurak took the broken spirit she left behind and molded it; Taught her, gave her balance. She learned to be strong, truthful, at ease with herself. Each time a problem rose, the old man was there to ease her spirit. Each time her body broke, Akezo was there to gently uplift her. Akezo spoke to her, whispers she had heard since before she was kindled now clear, now something she understood. That the injuries she has suffered will be healed, they will make her stronger, and when at last her healing is done; It will be time for her to become the healer. For a time, both Fiil and Llenn worked in unison. With Fiil’s help, Llenn returned to her people; Conquered challenges, reformed her clan, changed their ways. She did not run from that which frightened her; She faced it, bravely, and overcame it. With Fiil’s help, Llenn took steps toward being who she truly was, spoke truthfully about the matters most important to her heart. At first, they got along well: Both Fiil and Llenn were caring individuals, both wanted to help others, protect the young, and grow. But frequently, they would argue. Debates over Kwakwani or Akezo’s importance in their lives, debates over Llenn’s self-destructive habits, passionate arguments about how Llenn spoke of growth yet refused. Fiil continued to grow, while Llenn wasted away; Static. Llenn began to represent everything Fiil disliked about herself. She was lazy, she lied, she knelt to others, she allowed herself to be controlled by addiction and fear. Conversely, Fiil began to be all that Llenn envied; She was strong, she never had to hide who or what she was, she had the will to overcome all barriers. After years of turmoil, the two stood before a fire. They had come of age; Fifty, a grown woman now. Something must be lost to the fire, for the two to be whole. With sober pride, with somber stoicism, Fiil’Yar cast Llenn into the fire. While Llenn was burnt away, Fiil’s flesh was burnt with the brand of the tortoise; The symbol of Yar. Now Llenn lives on only in memory, in her songs, in the people who refuse to let her go. But Fiil remains; Fiil still grows. She has become the healer she always wanted to be. Early in the midsummer, 1756, in the sheaves of San’Azgak, the jewel of Krugmar: Llenn Songbird was offered in sacrifice to the spirits.

“Skalp has been gone for a matter of DAYS.” Fiil’Yar replies with a great weight of disapproval in her tone. “First, it is against the codes to disobey the directive of a Rex without challenging him. Second, the Targoth exists to stand in for the Rex during times like these.”

Fiil’Yar gives an appreciative nod of respect to the attempt at quelling the tensions before literally every nation on the map is at war. “Hozh. Doubt it’ll work, but hozh.” Fiil, the only orcish pacifist, begins praying for peace.

Fiil’Yar, who has been hunting the swamp-dwelling bûrz’zhomos for years, winces. “Should I tell them they’re gone already...?” She decides against it, since wrecking a citadel of darkness and purifying the land is a healthy and honorable way to satisfy the orcish curse, even if the number of spooks there is diminished.

Fiil’Yar spies the declaration as she waits for the gates to open so she can visit her good and trusted friend Nelgauth. Fiil’Yar awkwardly backs away to over-analyze all the odd quirks she witnessed in the time she knew the man. In the end, Fiil remains an optimist. “A misunderstanding...” She assures herself, as to do otherwise would be heartbreaking.

RP Name: Fiil’Yar MC Username: Gallic Discord: Gallic#9894 What Nation Are You Affliated With?: Krugmar Why Do You Wish To Come?: To help any of my brothers that go, to recover old books, and to study forgotten places. Especially old Krugmar. What Skills Can You Bring?: Healing, extensive LORE knowledge, mediocre fighting skills, speaking Old Blah, bard.

can this be used in combat?

“But how do we acquire a passport if it isn’t safe to traverse the land to find you without one?” Asks Llenn Songbird, a nomadic bard who just wants to sing songs internationally.

Fiil’Yar dons her orcish postergirl outfit once again as she prepares to grind resources for the Rex, hoping to inspire others to do so as well. She does this with pride; Industry working toward peaceful ends is a wonderful thing.

for real though I do want years that are just SLIGHTLY longer even if it changes our easy-to-remember week=year system I’m sorry for making a serious response on a silly thread

It can’t be reverted to 1.13 and they’re already working on updating it to 1.15.

pretty sure they already know about this, don’t worry

Llenn, Chieftess of the Songbirds, who’s tribe has lived in wagons and traveled for generations now and have a history dating back to the first people, feels moderately insulted by the publication and shows it to her travelling folk for a nice group grumbling.

Fiil’Yar shakes her head in disappointment at those who somehow find reasons to judge two regular ol’ non-mixbreed orcs having an entirely mundane heterosexual relationship. “Guess we just don’t like love at all, huh?”