Unwillingly

Skin auction closed! Thank you all for participating. I'll DM the winners on discord!

The removal of SCPs wont be a huge detriment to RP especially if temporary please remove

Auction extended until monday @ 6:00pm CST due to the ongoing bids once again I'd like that people don't wait until the last minute to bid

Recently I've been checking out the new player applications and as a wood elven player, I've been forum DMing wood elf applicants and have been inviting them to Amaethea. Just the basic "here's my discord, come talk to the community blah blah blah hope you get accepted." Most of my DMs get no response, but every once in a while I'll get a message on discord and we'll chat about the server for a little while n I'll just try to help them get settled down easier. Rarely, but sometimes I'll see this player MCly. I'll try to interact with them in RP, maybe even send them on an NPC quest or just give them something to do to keep them busy. Something like, "hey, go find x person." I've been doing this routinely for about 2-3 months now, and despite literally doing everything I can think of to help them get comfortable (even offering to make them a brand new free skin) I don't think any have stayed. Like, at all. I can't think of a single new wood-elven player who has stuck around and it sucks bc like other ppl said, a lot of these players have a lot of potential but end up quitting because... ??? I often reflect on myself and how I used to be when we talk ab new players. I joined in vailor when I was 13, led a nation when I was 14-15, now I'm almost 18 chilling with my druid gang and having a great time. I remember exactly how I used to be and it was literally just one of those annoying noob new players that no one wanted to RP with, and I don't know what kept me around. Maybe it was the old guild I joined, maybe I was just stupidly bored or incredibly ambitious, but I stuck around after all these years and now I'm thoroughly enjoying my time on the server, probably more than I ever have before

mad cuz bad lol... In all seriousness I hope life treats ya well, u were a good leader for a new player even if it was only for a few months. Rly gonna miss sitting in vc at 1am w u screwing around in Oren 🙁 I commend u for leaving this terrible server bc I certainly haven't in the last 5 years and I probably wont any time soon Take care dude o7

i know i was making a joke ab the inevitable complaints there will be about the lore shelving because grr st bad for shelving lore

GRRR ST HOW DARE YOU SHELF MY BROKEN LORE I AM SO ANGRY THE STAFf ARE RUINING THIS SERER GRRRR

@Carson your discord is required for the auction, otherwise your bid won't be counted

hi welcome to the skin auction u know da routine, read rules and start bidding (also give me rep pls) 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 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 this SATURDAY 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: I almost posted this w/o linking the skins i hate myself Heritage Summit Paragon Legacy Obelisk

holy **** the CHARACTER concepts that can come from this +1 i love stars and space and

sutican culture is having no culture my mind cannot be changed

whats kept u here all these years

That'll be 2,008 forum rep please

It was never the cold water itself that Eir'thall feared. Rather, it was what lurked beneath. The looming threat that, if he stayed in for too long or went too far from shore, something would grab him and pull him down. The feeling never left him. It was always there. So, he stayed away from the water. Usually, he'd resort to small rivers or ponds, but even they caused a sense of anxiety to flicker in him. It was always the thought that if he got too close or started at his reflection long enough, something would reach out and pull him under. The seemingly inevitable sea-voyages that happened every few hundred years always made him sick, enough to throw up his meal the night prior. Of course, he could always stay behind, but what kind of man would he be? A brother of the bear, son of brimstone, an ally of flame? No — Disowned, rather, and frowned upon. So every time, he’d follow them over the waters, resigning to the lower decks of the ship as he feverishly tucked his head into the pillows and blankets while he waited for it to be over. Wildfire quietly approached a stream in the Hinterlands, his face ridden with sweat and bruises after a rough brawl in the grove. Tiredly dropping to his knees, he peered into the gently flowing water to take a look at his reflection - a bruised face littered in scars and red ink, his right eye blinded by a trickle of blood running from his scalp. Of course, it was nothing to worry about. He's suffered far worse before. It’ll take a damn lot to kill me, he always told people. Reaching down, he cupped his hand into the stream to splash over his face. The cool water trickled from his eyelashes and chin, landing back into the brook in the tiniest of ripples with a mix of blood. He watched this for a few moments, and for a split second, he questioned himself. Why am I so afraid of this? He thought. It was only momentary. Then the ripples faded away, returning to his foggy reflection in the water. Drowning was never loud. It's never something people will hear, but rather, it's quiet above the surface. The idea terrified him. The idea of being trapped in the water, thrashing and kicking below the surface, completely unheard by someone even a few meters away. They could be so close but would have no clue. The intrusive thoughts terrorized him over and over. The thought of burning lungs, the suffocation, the inability to scream, the silence, the— Oh, the silence. A quiet death. Something he too feared greatly. He always imagined that he'd go out in a blaze of glory, under a sky of arrows or rain of blood, rather than being snuffed out below the waves. It was always about being seen. Be bold, be brave, be louder than everyone, he always told himself. Nothing speaks of a muddied death like a silent one. He reached for a weathered beige rag tucked into his belt, brushing it over his back and neck as it dampened with cold sweat. Soaking it into the stream, his jaw subconsciously clenched while a snarl tugged just shy of his features. It made him angry, and he felt that deep, core-wringing hatred begin to kindle again. The burning outrage that oft accompanied his misfortunes, usually sparked by his own foolish wrath. He knew it deep down, that he had a desire for something beyond a memorable end, but he didn’t know what it was. That was the most frustrating part. A part of him felt incomplete, like there was something more he could do to satisfy his turmoil, and he’s felt this way for a long time. But what was it? He couldn’t help but mull it over, thinking, thinking, thinking on the notion. Damnit, He thought through clenched teeth, what’s wrong with me?! And then his mind fell to strawberry kissed locks, matched with eyes that he swore had been dipped in gold once before — akin to stars that had fallen back to the realm from whatever lies beyond the world. The thought of her, for a moment, brought Eir’thall relief. It was the reminder, the recollection of when he wept more than he thought he was capable of, more than he had in decades when the abandonment of the firestarter finally struck him. As much as his love was for her, his dearest sister, he wouldn’t find an answer with her. No — not yet. And what of a man of justice and order? One hailing from a land of utmost perfection, yet, who would see something so great within the green motherland. Perhaps he saw Her in it, or perhaps it was a true love for what some would deem impure upon their own accord. The thought had crossed his mind, a man of wise words and even wiser actions who could give him the answer, but it was too soon. Too early. It will wait. The firebird, perhaps? Despite the burning passion he displayed, Eir’thall noticed that he often wore hues of blue and cerulean, while his eyes fell to an otherworldly icy reflection matched with a golden arm. It was funny. The contrast was ironic, yet, Wildfire naturally felt a kinship for him — the man who could start a fire to a war, who could bring a monster to its knees without struggle, who could end the world. Was it their mettle or ignorance that made them so like minded? Both, probably. Oh, those chocolate coils that fell among the endless green pines, gleaming with emerald and verdant flora. A world Eir’thall wished to get lost in, but always found himself helplessly drawn back by a smile of grace. Yet, the problem remained that he hadn’t spent enough time among the pines, but rather squabbled with pointless happenings — something he always kicked himself for. He told her that he would make it up, that he would lose himself in the forest the moment he stepped in, but he never did. He pulled his hands out of the stream, squeezing the water from the rag before tucking it back at his hip. Restlessly biting at the innards of his cheek enough to draw blood, the familiar taste of iron, he glared down at the stream in thought, unable to scratch the itch in the back of his mind. What is it? What. Is. It? His mulling continued, every scenario, every route taken to figure out what it was he wanted, what was bothering him so persistently. Every friend, ally, even enemy crossed his mind in a desperate attempt to figure out what it was he wanted so badly — but still, there was nothing. No sign. No answer. It made him groan in frustration, his head lulling back with a more than prominent grimace while his hands gripped the attire at his knees. It never came to him. Instead, Wildfire reached for his belongings, pondering the thought for a few more moments. Still unsatisfied, he ultimately decided to return to the grove, wordless on his walk back, and wordless to those who spoke to him. There was nothing left for him here.