Unwillingly

skin auction closed thanks for playing

Hi guys, very sorry - meant to post this 30 minutes ago skin auction is being extended to Wednesday, April 7th at 6:00pm CST

The bell of Elvenesse clamored heavy, prompting citizens nearby to perk their heads with concern in their eyes. They began to whisper to each other, some opting to take their young to safety while others drew arms and began hastily towards the front gate. In only a moment, the once serene square became overwhelmed with both alarm and adrenaline. Gailien softly watched, letting his hand sink from the rope of the bell. Before he knew it, there was an unfamiliar face barking orders at him. “Go find the Sanethir!” they demanded. Gailien nodded, bringing himself down the path with a rattle of his armor before setting off. Upon spotting Celiasil near the gates, the Sanethir of the Emerald Guard, he called out and stood at attention. “I’ve been notified of a force of bandits on our roads, sir!” “How many?” “I wasn’t told, sir.” “On me, Gailien. We’ll search the perimeters of our city,” he commanded, the two then making their way off. They circled the cliffs and harbor, searching for any potential brigands or breaches in defense. Upon finding none, nor any questionable individuals, they returned to the gates with haste. By then, a mass of the Wardens, Emerald Guard, and citizens alike had gathered, each wordlessly expecting command, so Celiasil roared out. “Wardens and Emerald Guard! Hiuwane!” The warriors and guards assembled in a line before the Sanethir, shoulder to shoulder with their chins raised and hands clasped. For the next thirty minutes did the crowd continue to gather, the Elvenesse officers debating the next course of action while the guards patiently but anxiously waited. Much like the others, Gailien grew more eager as time went on, though his composure did not falter. Instead, anxiety found him when he heard a voice call out. “Open the gates!” Thus, the switch of a lever was heard before the gates ahead began to crank, promptly clattering open with the rotation of chains and gears and rhythmic drumming. The disciplined guards remained before the Sanethir. “Move! We stop at the bridge!” he commanded, and with a flourish of his hand, they moved off with the deafening scrape of metal on stone. "Cihn!" Gailien stopped with the rest of the rally, though he was unable to see much past the back of heads and helmets of those in front of him. The once hundreds of feet clamoring upon the ground fell to silence, only the rushing of the river nearby filling the air. Curiously, Gailien brought himself forward, slipping his way through pairs of shoulders towards the right side of the rally. He followed their gaze, and ahead, there stood a man clad in black armor in the middle of the road. An ax rested in his hand. He said nothing. Likewise, the elven party stood calm but prepared. The Sanethir wordlessly remained at the front of the crowd, matching the unmoving stare of the indiscernible figure ahead. Although it certainly was not visible, Gailien felt like there was a smug grin under that helmet. Celiasil remained watching the road with patience, naught but the rushing of river water and breeze of pine needles making a sound. A stalemate played between the two for some time, though the armored figure would soon withdraw, disappearing around the corner of the valley. “Let's go.” Celiasil then stated flatly. The valley floor grew cold and damp as night approached, the occasional gleam of moon rays shining through the canopy of the great red oaks above and upon the elven ranks. For the few that strayed too far behind or ahead, they’d be quickly ushered back to the main crowd with hushed scolds from their peers while the guards and wardens remained vigilant. Once more did they soon stop, finding themselves before a line of four bandits, whom each carried sharpened weapons. However, the relief was only temporary as a crumble of dirt and dust plummeted down from the walls of the steep valley, and with it came five additional armored men. The elven party split back to back, Gailien facing the line of five alongside Celiasil, who proudly called out. “This doesn't have to happen! Leave our lands in peace.” he called, though provoked no response from the line of men on either side. Gailein had frowned unsurely after recalling the military vulnerability of Elvenesse. He looks to Celiasil, soon opting to draw his blade to face the bandits ahead once more. Whispers trickled between the cornered elven party in an attempt to deftly formulate a strategy, though, in the same moment, an arrow had been fired. The parties soon clashed, the elven party splitting into two in their struggle to face each line of bandits. Blades clashed and armor rang loud, the scent of iron quickly saturating the air much like the red upon the ground. Gailien had remained unharmed for a portion of the fight, though once he began to take note of his fallen allies, distraction had taken its toll once more — he had been met across the cheekbone with the pommel of a sword, where he sloppily countered its following strike with a counter of his own. At that, as the remaining bandits began to hone in on him, thus he turned and made off towards the city once more. He didn’t see, but he surely heard the clattering of their gear while they pursued him. Once the city gates came into sight, with rasped breath, Gailien bellowed out. “Open the gates!” Once more, the gates groaned with a rattle, the inner gate beginning to open while the outer crept shut. The fleeing elven guard had just barely made it under the gate, which crashed to the ground just before the bandits were able to reach him. They instead stopped outside of the gates, winded much like Gailien, and merely stared with heaving chests. Gailien had found himself grounded on his knees, struggling to catch his breath as he looked towards their weapons. They shone slick with blood. The sight nearly made him recoil, though before he did, the armored men outside would soon turn and make their way down the path once more. Gailien had survived, but it was clear that there was much work to be done. “How far We of Malin have fallen.”

disable the forums and ban discord usage to force us to return to the ultimate RP immersion experience

edit: Skins are working again! You may proceed with bidding hi fourth skin auction, im just copy-pasting the rules and stuff from my past auctions enjoy RULES 1. no skin sniping (aka intentionally waiting to post ur bid until the last minute before the auction closes) 2. all of the following skins are made by me 3. some are alex model, some are steve, so u are allowed to change the model and make minor edits to fit ur character 4. any edits made must still result in the skin being identifiable as my original work, be reasonable 5. if you're buying the skin for someone please please let me know either on discord or in ur reply to save me concerns of potential skin theft 6. Post each bid in a separate reply, do not edit ur comment 7. 7. if you have any questions please ask on discord (un-w#9099), don't spam the replies section BIDDING Auction will close on Saturday, April 3rd at 6:00pm CST unless bids are still being made your bid will not count if it doesn't meet the following format and criteria Minimum bid increments of 10 minas Starting bid of 50 Must be able to provide me the minas by the end of the auction (just don't be like "I'll give u the minas by tomorrow!!!" but its fine if ur unable to log on right away yknwo?) IGN: Discord: Skin: Bid: Blues Mercenary Halcyon Nova Edict Wings

[[OOC]] Username: Unwillingly Discord: un-w#9099 Timezone: CST [[RP]] Full Name: Gailien Race: Wood Elf Age: 63 Why do you wish to join?: I heard rumors of a struggling military here in Elvenesse. I feel as though I could be of aid. Are you a citizen of Elvenesse?: Yes

"If we do not protect the people, who will be there to protect the balance?" Asks a newcomer elf named Gailien in passing.

Upon reading the missive, Eir'thall granted a forlorn glare to the looming maple above while slowly folding the paper. Pressing his back to the trunk, he'd sink to the ground. "I have no clue what I'm doing wrong." he admitted, dejected. "Not even a prince could preach the same and convince the masses, so what can we do about it?" He looks across other missives in his possession, mulling over each he had written in the past.

I dont have an app but I remember seeing two players apply together as a lesbian elf couple from france who went to college together or something, not exactly understanding the theme / time period of LOTC

Not necessarily true. People will always want to play a new CA race that comes out, but most of the players who apply for these creatures from day one only play them for a very short time before they realize they're bored and go back to their main characters. So it'll get played by maybe 20-30 active people for about a month, but then those numbers drop down to 2-3. I know I'm kind of repeating the subject, but a lot of this comes from with what happened with Wonks (bc thats exactly what happened) and it'll likely happen with this CA too if it's accepted Really this CA wont be significantly active even if you do get the players, at least not any more active than the Kha. What you need is a defined group of core players who are interested in truly dedicating their time and energy into this race, people who won't just get bored after day 5 and will play it as their focus character if it makes sense Nonetheless good luck with the lore

Copies of the document are scattered around various parts of Amaethea THE DENOUNCEMENT OF LAETRANIS AP TAHORRAN By Brother Wildfire For long have our people lived through an age of stagnation, negligence, and degradation. From the crumbled wrecks of Irrinor, we have lived divided and confused, confined to the meek walls and damp burrows of Siramenor-Aegrothond ‘till the fall of Arcas. Now do we find ourselves amid looming redwoods and grandiose halls, our lush culture prospering proudly, and yet, we still contain this lingering flaw that followed us from before we were known as Elvenesse. The plague that still holds us back, that still ravages our beautiful faith, that spits on our way of life, that will be the root of our undoing — this plague that has followed us to our modern time. Only a few years back, I distributed a paper on the value of our culture. I preached the security of our green faith and the rejection of what attempts to destroy it, the expulsion of those who sympathize with cultural menaces and risks. For it, I was threatened, criticized relentlessly, my home vandalized by those bearing the druidic gifts. Let this be irrefutable proof to my claims that we live in an era of weak mali’ame, controlled by ideologies of open-mindedness in exchange for the dissolution of our way of life, all of which are naturally encouraged by our so-called Green Priests. Among our people lies a coyote. Deceitful and manipulative in his methods, this coyote whom we recognize as Laetranis ap Tahorran preaches his care for the people, the stability of our culture, all while slaughtering stags before our very eyes in acts of foolishness and pure lack of self-control. The coyote kills our livestock, yet we welcome the coyote back and even befriend it while our food supply is diminished until nothing remains. Do farmers welcome back pests that destroy the seasonal crops? Do librarians treat kindly thieves who steal their books? Of course not, so why is it that we welcome the man who puts our safety at stake? Only in Arcas amid our serene village did Laetranis needlessly take the life of an Ireheart in a pure act of terror, rattled by the empty intimidations of the dwarf. From it, we were thrown into years of strife, our peaceful land forced to fight his battles, forced to suffer the hands of brigands and bandits. Our people, only wanting nothing but peace and calm, were forced to take arms against a battle that should have never occurred — a battle provoked by a man who would and has cause many more. I willingly sought out my end of the dwarven grudge to finally bring peace, but it was Laetranis who stalled until the consequences sought him, the man too shaken to dare even leave the village for months on end. Now in Almaris do we find ourselves in Elvenesse, Laetranis once more raising a spear upon Vulen Calithil, who was mercilessly cut through the visor of his helm. Decried by the masses, Laetranis defended his actions until he temporarily abandoned the city for a “hunting trip” in what can only be deemed a pure act of cowardice. Like the serpent he is, he came slithering back months later while we fought his battles sparked once more by his own actions, the countless acts of banditry and raids we repelled to the best of our abilities in his absence. After many months more he was delivered to Vulen’s family, where he’d be justly punished by their blades. The dilemma not only lies in Laetranis himself, but in the people who would so remarkably follow him to their demise, the demise of the people, and the demise of their faith. Our people have endured enough by fighting battles that should not be ours, battles sparked by mere gout that has festered into carnage. However, he is still guarded by the senseless who prefer this faux priest, a murderer, before potential eras of harmony we could see if he is detached from the face of our faith. This problem is made worse when they regularly fail to discern the consequences of sheltering these people, oblivious to the happenings of political endangerments and impending wars that are often sparked by single individuals. While Laetranis may have seen “justice” for his transgressions, we will be faced with these circumstances which we may be unable to prevent in the future. Once more will our people be unwillingly dragged into an era of blood and battle, constrained by the hand of Laetranis while he flees from his difficulties to instead wait for us to resolve them. Despite this, he will be welcomed back with open arms when he should be denounced for the endangerment of the people. He is praised as a cultural figurehead, one we should admire and look up to despite his selfish deeds. Decry not me for urging that we protect ourselves rather than be misled, but decry what feigns calls of peace while acting with violence. Decry the man who has the blood of hundreds of mali’ame on his hands, the man who flees from the problems he creates. Most importantly, the man who was not here to witness the bodies of slain mali’ame being hauled in from the trails day after day. I beseech you, people of Elvenesse, our council, our citizens, the vulnerability of our people lies in our inability to swiftly begone with the perils of our culture, that which threatens our longevity. Let us rid ourselves of these individuals who only act in self-interest rather than be continuously strung along by their schemes. We possess the potential to be strong yet peaceful, fierce yet respected, wise yet kind. However, we are none of those things, and we will never be until we remove these tumors among our people.

Eir'thall, upon hearing of the missive, lets out a crazed laugh as he spoke with a brother. "Despite all of this, there's still those few among our own that dare defend their presence within our green motherland. I'd like to see them sympathize with these brigands after this and say I was wrong once more, to criticize me for loathing these orcs of Krugmar, to physically harm me for it. Am I still wrong to loathe these brigands?"

SKIN AUCTION CLOSED Thank you all for p(l)aying :) will DM the a[ppropriate winners

Eir'thall reads a copy of the paper with confusion.