Unwillingly

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.

THE CRIMES OF ELVENESSE

Wildfire sunk against the wall after the vision, shocked and momentarily stunned as he looked around for a moment. Pushing himself to his feet, he strode off to seek his brothers and sisters.

Wildfire reads over a copy of the missive, unease creeping at his features. "When the dwarven Ireheart was slain by Him in Siramenor, I stepped forth without persuasion in order to settle the grudge once I knew it would keep our people safer. Once again has He taken a life, a once-friend of mine. This time, no one will be around to clean up his messes, lest he once more puts us all at risk by cowering behind our walls. What will he do now?"

hi third skin auction, im just copy-pasting the rules and stuff enjoy RULES 1. any attempts at skin sniping will simply result in the auction being extended so dont do that :] 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 Sunday, March 7th 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 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: Destiny Apex Venture Ember Firestorm Willow

ppl laugh at hur dur minecraft roleplay but don't realize how truly engaging and significant some of the storylines on here can be and its kind of sad that most of us probably don't tell anyone what we do on LOTC irl

Amid a calm chat with his counterpart, Brother Wildfire would begin in a quiet but heated rant whilst he leans back in his seating, ankles crossed. "How often is it that I've seen Mali join Elvenesse, our green motherland, only to be pulled away at the slightest breeze of persuasion? Much like our Father Circle do they join us, claiming utmost loyalty and trust all until they hear of, oh what, cheaper drinks? Softer pillows? The smallest, mundane conveniences that would so easily persuade them!" He began, opening his mouth before delayed words left him as he sat up some. "We are a home for all Mali, but if they would be so easily pulled away by the words of strangers, then I don't want them here in the first place."

what will I ever do now that I can't play an OP mixed halfbreed orc-elf to be handsome and also super buff and strong????

(insert topical comment about 1.9 / 1.8 that you would personally agree with)

Eir'thall looked upon the once destroyed home in awe, genuinely surprised that anyone would ever bother to do a favor for an ass like him.

[!] Copies of the document are displayed throughout Elvenesse. The Hindrance of Elvenesse Written by Brother Wildfire Wildfire and Phoenix, overlooking the Hinterlands while they speak about Elvenesse I’ve not yet lived my life long enough to see the sunlit days of the Mali’ame, when our people had risen under one banner, one identity as these books of yore often referenced. They spoke of an age of unity and providence, where others spoke of quaking cannon-fodder beneath the heels of Valah. I felt conflicted as I read the pages. Frustrated even, that I had not yet been alive to witness it for myself, the potential dream of Cernunnos’ fury and compassion of Cerridwen, the summit of what we strove for finally achieved. Had I lived during this age, perhaps I would have found myself victorious in my plights or kneeling under the imposing commands of Valah kingdoms. And what of now? I asked myself, comparing what we once were to what we are now. Elvenesse, the Green Motherland, the home of Mali’ame. It had often been revered as the home of the “Free” Elves by the now lost rat Sylvaeri and his obsessive hatred for Valah and their kingdoms. We may no longer kneel, but instead, we have been reduced to naught but disgusting open-mindedness and tolerance for what we should be driving away — for what we should be renouncing proudly. Tolerance for everything our ancestors have taught us to deny for our own safety. We reject millennia of our teachings in exchange for adopting orcish children above our own, to deny the sacredness of our grounds used to honor our ancestors, to scold those who teach strength to our young, the harboring of degenerates, the mere debate of voidal mages. The potential of our people growing hindered by this seemingly festering disease of acceptance. I had tried to bring change, to spread the teachings of the name of Ilathdyn, of Igne’sae, though the name quickly fell to stagnation — something I often blame myself for. Had I done it differently, perhaps our practices would be widespread among the mali’ame. Perhaps we would not be fragile as the wilted rose whose petals threaten to fall at the slightest disturbance. I had tried, and I had failed, and I feel as though I am failing evermore with my oversight of the Father Circle. We teach Cernunnos’ ways, the respective balance of life and death, the value of warriorship, and internal and external strength. Yet, it is our own acolytes who defend these problematic degenerates, the ones who care not for our sacred practices but would rather abandon our Circle when we do not comply with their objectively contrasting ideas. This matter is made worse when it is dozens of our citizens who scold me when I try to enforce the orcish banishment for their attacks on our people that have persisted for centuries. When our enemies attack during our festivities, maim our women, rob our children, it is I who gets scolded and villainized under the pretense of ignorance and racism when I dare express my distaste for them. How far must this go on for them to finally turn against those who terrorize us? Must we all be slain under the blades of bandits, maimed and irreparably destroyed before we can finally turn against this common enemy? I’ll not feel sympathy for the brigands who murder our people in cold blood — not until they repent for their actions. Despite this, others seem to believe they are deserving of our sheltering, of our love and kinship simply because they have not yet experienced first hand the wrath of these corrupt monsters. This matter is made worse by those who not only scold me for running out our enemies but go so far as to adopt orcish young before even having children of their own. We are a people cursed with infertility, a people who value children dearly, and yet it is socially acceptable to claim motherhood over an orc? I may not have children of my own, though it does not devalue my point, nor do I dare go out of my way to forget the burden we Mali carry. I acknowledge this burden where many others do not. We should strive for growth, to protect and teach our young rather than adopt orcish and Valah orphans in an attempt to integrate them into our culture. Such energy should be spent on our own young — not the monsters who have wanted to watch us burn for centuries, and will want to watch us burn for centuries more. Likewise, it is our very elder mali’ame who fail to uphold these standards we are deserving of. Our young are taught that open-mindedness to our very enemies is acceptable behavior, barely worth a slap on the wrist for each repeated offense. They claim to be priests, upholders of the culture, but it’s nothing more than a sham. Our sacred grove, spat upon by a so-called “green priest” when he attempted to host a lesson of dancing on the sacred lands we value dearly, not just for mere lessons to be taught, without even a request to utilize our grounds before the event. When many of us confronted him for his lack of care or concern, of course, it was not he who could have possibly been wrong, but the rest of us, he seemed to think. He claimed us to be ignorant, disrespectful and left our lands without even an apology uttered to this day. Only hours before writing this I was scolded for the task I gave a dedicant of mine — a task of survival and endurance, to push through the harshest of conditions. While a mother’s concern is understandable, I find it only proof of my claims that it is our young ones who show strength where many of our elder mali’ame do not. Our children are the key to our continuation, and yet, their succession is damaged by these objectively wrong claims. Sometimes I find that it is the children themselves who are taught to practice these vile actions — to befriend our enemies, to protect dark mages and voidal mages, the very people who wish to watch us fall to ruin, who actively destroy what we strive to protect. Of course, this is not to say that all of us are weak-minded and fragile. I respect many mali’ame of Elvenesse, my closest brother Avius, my dedicant Onas, Celiasil, Evar'tir, even if we do not see eye to eye all of the time. Mali like them are what we should strive to be — strong, intelligent, just, and level-headed. Not these pseudo-mali’ame who involve themselves in relationships with orcs and valah, who reject our teachings because they believe our actions go without cause, who contribute nothing to our city, yet act as though I am the criminal when I try to fix these problems that haunt our people. This will become worse if it is not changed. We will reach a point of stagnation once more. Our people will grow fragile, weak, and sensitive, and we will fall into an age of rejection and denial of our teachings, the culture which our ancestors bled and died to protect. We have the potential to be stronger than we’ve ever seen before, and yet, I find this plight halted by arrogant folk who forget our culture in exchange for their own moral beliefs. If we are to return to our roots, become strong once more, I beg of you all to turn away these ridiculous notions of acceptance and forgiveness where it is far from deserved.