Callistus

16 minutes ago, Jentos said:

hey bro how do you feel about turks 

who? :^) 

2 hours ago, Lackless_ said:

are you still in a sixth world country

We’re getting there.

2 hours ago, WhereIsMySpoon said:

Heyo! – How do you get your emotes so damn good? Any advice for people wanting to improve, and the like? – What goes behind your thought process and inspiration for how your characters act? – Thanks!

Well, this is a tough one. I’m afraid I cannot give you a definitive answer as I don’t have a precise “methodology” by which to run my emotes and the actions of a character, but I generally try to avoid ****-tier memery (shitposting is, after all, the scourge of all good rpers) and actually put effort into rightly conveying the persona. A lot of it stems from OCD tbh, and if I’m not in the mood to write, I’d unsurprisingly avoid lotc like the plague. 

This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but read more books of an author that you prefer – don’t skim the lines for a rough grasp on the narrative, but analyze the lines at length and in depth. You’ll gradually find yourself incorporating a lot of the style into your plays. It’s ironic that I don’t read as much in sheer volume as likely everyone else here, but I savor that which I do and if the writing is good, spend a lot of my free-time on end studying its flow. It pays off.

It helps that I’ve immensely (and sadly) lost interest in a lot of video-games too, as I now have all the more time to spend on gym, school and writing. 

As for your last question, there’s something that I’ve noticed terribly plaguing the server now more than ever in regards to character creation. A lot of players base their characters on their real life whims and wonts – what they want to achieve in lord of the craft, what they want to wield in magick and artefacts. While this is not a bad thing in theory, (People make these characters to “enjoy” themselves after all) it is in truth the root of all the imbecility that is self-insertion. If you make a character that aspires for the very thing that you as an individual seek, it is only natural that your character will come to follow in suit both your own desires and characteristics. I instead urge folks to tease their characters from a variant (and never only one) of different and well-written fantasy characters – not to serve as an IRP passage to some overlord’s dark magic clique, but to flesh it out intriguingly in such a way that does not scream “knock-off” or cheap mimic. It’s like concocting a broth – draw from different sources to make something unique but enjoyable.

2 hours ago, seannie said:

awooo

Disgusting. Do not fell my ears with such vile rot.

2 hours ago, Lumii said:

whats the most absurd offer you’ve gotten to change your minecraft username?
what’s your favourite song?

None were “absurd” in their own rights, they’re all the same idiotic weebs who’d sell their souls to play in their favourite naruto server with the name “Boruto” to enable them the right of bragging superiority over others. The offers began upwards of 500, and 300 I therefore considered low-balling (when you’re constantly offered a minimum of $20,000 for a car, it’s easy to shrug off an offer of $5,000). Before conclusions arise that I’m latching onto the name because I’m also a lifeless weeb, I’m not a ******* animugoon. But it’s because there often isn’t any mutual trust and I end up being offered a grand or so under the condition that I also give my email. Now I’d bend in and do it if I really needed the money, but it’s not hard to see that it’s not at all worth the effort of putting aside an email I’d owned for 13 years over a month’s worth of cash. It’s a hassle and if I wasn’t careful enough, unsafe.

1 hour ago, Sonnenrad said:

What RP have you had the most fun with on the server? Soldier, smith rp, etc etc, you get the idea. 
Group you enjoyed the most on the server?

Why did you and Jentos decide to try and write werewolf lore, especially considering the bad rep it has from the last iteration of “”werewolves.””

I’ve grown a penchant for ingenious political roleplay. It’s really arbitrary; If you’d asked me a year ago I’d have answered “merc” or something of the like, but this is what I’m digging as of late. 

My tenure in the server is short-lived in comparison to most and I therefore couldn’t apprise that wide a selection of groups that I enjoyed the most, but of the several that I did partake, I think the Black Reiters come first. After which stands the Jackal Sect.

The werewolf is a subject of much contempt, and certainly not one any joe could pick up and expect to nail – but I thought given the interests Jentos and I had in common, and the themes in which we both indulged, that it would suffice for us both to deliver it justice. It wasn’t this idea we simply thought up on the run that would grant us boons and elevate us in the lotc ladder of fame, then, that was the primary drive. It would’ve turned out weak and short-lived if so. But it was a theme that we both thought we’d enjoy and perfect in a carefully written narrative, even torn from all the temporal desires of combat.

56 minutes ago, vesetta said:

is ur nose hooked or crooked? 

It is as hooked as that of a turken youngster’s if you were to glaringly gander at the side – albeit straighter in virtue of the Greek progeny that runs in me. One can only expect diversity to flourish upon a mix-blooded mutt alike myself.

I never thought I’d partake in these gay threads for insecure people, but here it goes.

ask me anything (lore, life, opinions)

also check out this furry lore, I’m just fishing for upvotes. my terrible tenure in the CT ruined my ******* ratio, **** them

An old collective of woods and frayed timbers across the colonized settlements strewn beneath the Arcasian mountain-range appear, as of late, a breeding ground to many a strange occurence, for the far-by villages have allegedly lost several children over the year’s passing in spread, but evidently related chains of kidnappings, the patterns and quantification of which may ring most familar to experts in this pertinent line of work among both huntsmen and the now-extinct preceptors of the witch-hunting trade. 

The Disappearings of 1754

“Safe and without issues, the roads hither were. But deep in the undergrowth of this here province, a foul thing festers, feeding on our already withering crops – a child-eating beast, no doubt, who indulges villy upon the blood of the weak! A hatchling fiend, or one’uv’em terrible mutants – kikimore, was it?”

– Hem, the newly-appointed alderman of a mountain settlement to an imperial inquisition – the erstwhile elder having died to unknown forces the week past

          More knowledge on the matter could undoubtedly be gathered of the precise roots from which these kidnappings might have originated, however none thus far among the entrants had emerged, and none again could therefore apprise so much as a trace over the nature of these happenings. For what lurked in these grim depths, if a thing, was of sentient – indeed, humanoid – bearing, and had adeptly and wisely appropriated his senses to ensure that no left-over trails such as the routine torn limb or scattered entrails would be left of his deed, or at all lead the hunters as to whither it hangs, indicating that it might very well be of an intelligence far greater than that of the common elf.

These crimes weren’t of accustomed nature as it were with the occasional sewer alp or the wretched gnome of the outskirts – who are also as equally afeared, if not more-so than the alps, for the tales that nannies tell their children in scaring them into sleep – but it is a strange matter of terrible proportion and graver consequence. Inquisitors of any sort had better take care that they arrive rightly armed and armored lest they too fall victim into the conniving trappings of whatever it is that preys therein.

Blood, blood galore shall stain the earth.

The casualties and consquences of negligence for this event may grow in gravity the longer it is left without attendance, and the threat level, rather than be spoonfed here, shall be left to the evaluation of scout parties or player(s).

Message me on finding the event site (not going to give ‘hints’ so save yourselves the trouble)

Callisto#6280

The decayed delve whereupon an old beast made abode the year past begun to rumble furiously at first light, rousing many who resided the nearby vicinity from their sleep.

Indeed, the cavern in which once lurked said beast now churns endlessly with blood, and the entrance lays drenched in bone galore. Grown in size and appetite, the pale-headed apparition (of which the appearance has yet to even be vaguely sketched or described by scouts) had evidently been neglicted over far too great a period of time than was safe for the populace. For therein, undisturbed, it served its wont to feast upon the flesh of strays and mediocre hunters, and time may yet have it grow beyond the cavern within which it perched.

“Beware those that lie in the deep…”

2 hours ago, frill said:

Veikko H—, profound legalist and man-of-letters, is tucked in bed with the warmest of goose-down blanketry his pocket could afford. A reading-glass in the grips of his porcine fingers (growing fat from the power of the legal profession, not the gout, he hopes), he begins to scan his eyes over the document. His face souring and moustache curling in kind, he mumbles aloud to himself;

 

“A poor thing to see, punishments still wholly pecuniary in times as these. To make the job of the magistrate to punish these sinful instead of the observation of the laws is a perverse hubris. It should be a duty to honour God instead of revenging him, lest you’re conflating the judge with God himself. A piastic hamlet judge is not one of the Exalted.”

 

Patting the pockets of his sleep-suit he finds his bedtime writing quill, metal nib luckily not painting the breast of his pyjama with damp ink. He begins to write a piecemeal replication of his thoughts to his dear uncle.

Viedrick, who thought himself no more than a humble scholar (although one held in most marked esteem among his circle and within his people) had indeed foreseen such retort from the progressionists of the modern age. It is, after all, natural for the cattle and unguided to flock for carnal desire and pity the sinful, thus shepherded at the devil’s behest (truly, the pleasures of the present day had softened up many). And the true holy texts to which Man was once adherent have too been lost in the affluence of innumerable translations, as naught more remains of truth but a lesser, fallible vestige. 

“As God was once a stranger to the paganist and his kith before the prophet’s coming, so too shall he one day return; and only the ever faithful shall endure such time.”

And so he returns to scribing madly upon parchment, wetting several papers in drying ink.

1 hour ago, rukio said:

”I would like to protest the torture by rats.” A young street urchin would beg of the lawmakers.

“Begone, vile critter! It is the fate of rats and rodents to be tormented in a manner that much befits their perfidy.”

Over the past adaptation of law once administered by the Province of Rubern, folks from all breed have brought into question the supposably “primeval” and “barbarous” manners by which our people handle the transgressors of order. In their argument, the law fostered in protection of our humble folk has often been unjustly compared to that of the evolutionists in Oren and the common elvenesse. To counteract these current winds of liberalism that stress social change and meaningless progression over the divine will of God, we bring forth this structured decree, that we may truly appease God above and merit his favourable grace. For too long have the devil’s acolytes been at work against the forces of all that is good in our here holy land, greatly spitten by the flames of endless war as it is. And so restless are they in their wicked drives. For once, we shall bring out the valor of our God-fearing folks to slice out the gangrene that taints us from within.

As of this iteration, the judgement and callings of the Pontiff and his flock are renounced within the Provincial borders given their bias in times of war. They shall henceforth hold no say, merit no status, and their liberalistic motives and jursidctions are forthwith bygone in the eye of the common Ruberni.

In the name of God Most High, The Blessed and Only Ruler, Hallowed be His Name.

Law and its Enforcement within the Province of Rubern 

“The early period of the civilization of Man, during which men had held all that is sacred and sacrosanct as divine property and harbored a fear of God, saw the creation of a legal system that to this day remains transcendent unto all prosperous states. This fledgling legacy entrusted to us by our forebears was the meridian of righteous thought and religious influence that was rationalized and reasoned, that it became eventually an efficient instrument in forging many of the bygone states renown for their justice. In the present time, with the rise of the vile liberal, and his kin and kith, we no longer bear witness to any such legacy.”

-Viedrick de Attre

The Brethren Pillars of Law, vol i, on the Regression of Man

Province of Rubern, 1751

The legal jurisdiction of Rubern pertains strictly to crimes that have occurred at or within any soil or territory confined by the Principality’s outermost borders, at any point in time, and the criminal thereby remains subject to Ruberni jurisdiction regardless of their later and present whereabouts. In thus, Rubern derives complete authority over those who have transgressed upon its state of order, and may exercise its mandate to the fullest extent after careful evaluation.

1.1 Justice

    1.  Definition

Justice is the act of rendering punishment(s) equal to the order of the transgression committed by an individual, in keeping with the boundaries constituent of what is right or wrong. In this sense, these set boundaries agreed upon by the Ruberni high council may serve as a cornerstone by which to establish what is just and what, by default, is a violation of that concept, and thus eligible for punishment to predefined and calculatedly righteous extents.

     2. Righteous Authority

First and foremost, it is for the present Prince of Rubern, who effectively inherits absolute rights over the Principality, to decide whom it is that wields second authority over the welfare of law beneath him, and into what extent. Naturally, the chosen council, decided upon by the Prince, do solemnly bear that burden, and are bestowed and entrusted the rights to debate, discuss and evaluate the nature and, by extension, the punishment of a crime or the resolve for an affair of court.

• It is to the higher council elected thereof to decide the motion of each extension (or ministry) of the state at either the wish of the Prince (if he wills) or his absence. In matters that directly and notably affect the Principality’s flow and state of being (be that in exposing the Principality to potential threat, affecting the economy in such a way that is sure to disrupt the day-to-day motion, or even in ways as simple as a mere disruption of the commoner functions) necessitates prior and immediate council with the Prince for consultancy or the like, where the inability thereof abruptly demands either the abrogation of the project, or that the court bears responsibility entire. In thus, there must always be kept a means of communication with the Prince.
• The military and its independent hierarchy do obtain the rights not to evaluate or assess the severity of punishment, but enact it on the grounds proposed by the Prince or his council. In the absence of both, or under grave circumstances*, as dictated by the Prince or his council, and most eminently in times of teeming conflict, the military may be permitted to carry out the law on their own terms against captives, spies or whomsoever they may appraise of danger.

  • Under more evident and blatant crimes, and if four known sinless men of the community were to attest punishable sin upon an individual, he or she is thereby deemed guilty at an instant, and is therefore subject to punishment by the soldiery without trial at court (less the individual be deemed of value, or of marked esteem, or high-birth, or diplomatic significance, whereupon he or she becomes subject to the noble court).

1.2 Citizenry

• Rights

It is the right of all who constitute the citizenry of the Principality, whether attained by merit of their hard-work, their birth or by princely decree that they be solemnly granted a permit to own, sell or trade personal property, the latter of which is exclusory only to others of citizenry. As it is also their right to enlist for state positions, esteemed courts or be inducted into the poor ******* infantry.

• Eligibility

It is the legitimate right of only devout men, women and children born of pureblooded humanic blood, canonist dwarves and clip-eared virtuous elves who realize the sin in which they were born, to be entitled a citizenship within the soils of Rubern. The rest, of whom consists the perfidious triumvirate of heathenry (that is the pagan in most forms, the gluttonous foes among uruk-kind, and the deformed vermin of prancing cats and slobbering apes) are sub-folk, or degenerates, and are entirely ineligible.

• Royalty

As dictated by the old customs and traditions of our forefathers, those of royal-birth are inherently privileged in common affairs and earn their say in most matters of the state. They are greatly held in favour when in court, and in reverence to their regal blood, are never truly subject to prosecution without trial unless it be demanded by the Prince himself.

• Nobility

Those ennobled or born of a noble household are traditionally afforded an honourable title to befit their stature and are to be met, as customs dictate, with greater prudence and a sense of humility by sheer virtue of their esteemed blood.

2.1 Transgressions

Greater Offences

• Blasphemy

1. The law of God is eternal, and His word sacred. To cast slander upon our Lord is considered blasphemy and therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To deny, confute or otherwise belie a word of God or suspect His sanctity is considered blasphemy and therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. To be of blood or kin to any preternatural being (of demons, monstrosities and the like) is to defy the law of all that is human and divine. It is considered blasphemy and therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Treason

1. To consort with the enemy is considered perfidious and therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To cast slander upon the Prince is considered perfidious and therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. To consort in nightly affairs with an escort from enemy land is considered perfidious and therefore sinful and prohibited.

4. To consort in the dark with a brood of the night (blood-suckers, werbeasts, demonfolk and the like) is considered perfidious and therefore sinful and prohibited.

5. To raise the enemy flag, ridicule a soldier of the state or fail to keep the oath sworn to the nation in its time of need is considered perfidious and therefore sinful and prohibited.

6. Any other act deemed treason by judgement of the court is considered perfidious and therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Greater Theft

1. To steal from a priest or another devout man of God is considered larceny of the Lord’s property, for a priest has no belonging but had pledged all earthly material and desire to His divinity. To steal from a priest is considered greater theft and therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To steal any state asset or property is to disrupt governmental function, and thus weaken the principality. It is considered greater theft and therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. To steal any asset or property belonging to the Prince or a member of the court is to disrupt a governmental function, and is considered greater theft and therefore sinful and prohibited.

4. Any other act deemed greater theft by judgement of the court is considered as such and therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Greater Assault (among which is murder)

1. To assault or strike a hand upon the Prince is considered greater assault and therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To assault or strike a hand upon a Priest is to let harm befall an appendage of God. It is considered greater assault and therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. To strike a royal, noble or member of the council is considered greater assault and therefore sinful and prohibited.

4. Any other act deemed greater assault by judgement of the court is considered as such and is therefore sinful and prohibited.

5. To let spill the blood of any who is neither pagan, enemy nor fiend without condonable grounds is to defy the principle of kinship in God. It is considered greater assault and therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Higher Witchcraft

1. To engage or indulge in any form of devilry or witchcraft is to consort with the devil in acts that do not appease (and in-fact provoke) God, and is blasphemy of the highest order. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To dabble in any manner of black magick and sorcery is to mutate the basal and immaculate creation of God, and is therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Interbreeding

1. For a human to indulge in sexual pleasure with another of inhuman origin is to mock the very sanctity of Man and bring putrefaction into one’s stock. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

Moderate Offences

• Lesser Disobedience (the greater of which is treason)

1. One must always remain unquestionably obedient to the Prince, as to defy his word may at times be ruled treason. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. One must always heed and honour the judgement of the chosen council in the court of law, as to disobey them is to doubt the verdicts of God. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. One must always regard the commands of Ruberni officials with the utmost of prudence, as to disobey them is a great crime and therefore sinful and prohibited.

4. To brave defiance more than once upon any of the estimable pillars of law (as aforesaid) is to be marked with mutiny, and therefore lay subject to the capital punishments of treason.

• Lesser witchcraft

1. To consort with or beseech a hand of any ungodly creation in any matters or earthly affairs is to engage in a lesser form of witchcraft, and is therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To exercise (or be found possessing of) any breed of magick is to be found implicit in lesser witchcraft. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. To consort with a sorcerer, a witch or any being that is inherently Godless and inhuman is to protest the divinity of God. It is considered lesser witchcraft and therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Adultery (greater and lesser)

1. Lesser; To lie in bed with another without the binds of marriage is to favour worldly pleasures over the will of God in trivial indulgence. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. Greater; To lie in bed with a wedded bride that is not yours in ordinance is to engage in marital infidelity and is considered the basest order of adultery. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Sodomy

1. To engage in sexual activity with another of the same gender (regardless of consensuality) is to breach upon the course of nature and disrupt the flow of progeny and offspring. It is considered sodomy and therefore sinful and most prohibited.

Lesser Offences

• Disruption of order

1. To instigate disruption of the public order* is to engage in lesser offence.

   * It is within the nature of Man to collide fists, but it shall never consolidate dishonor and  is lawful only amongst Ruberni brethren and those of estimable stock (or otherwise granted permittance by consent).

2. For one to lash their womenfolk in the public sight is to bare the sacred flesh of a female and provide its sanctity injustice. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Fraud

1. To engage in any act that may be ruled fraud by common consensus is to be implicit in vile fraud. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

2. To evade the payment of taxes designated upon property is to be implicit in vile fraud. It is therefore sinful and prohibited.

3. The taking of interest for loans of coin is considered income without true work and therefore sinful and prohibited.

• Slander

1. To cast baseless slander upon one’s kin in God is to engage in lesser offence.

2. To plaster a higher crime upon an innocent, and later be found committing perjury subjects one to the punishment of the crime(s) he had forenamed.

• Vandalism

1. To engage in the corruption of any property deemed Ruberni is to be implicit in vandalism, and thus punishable for a lesser offence.

• Or; any such act deemed an offence by ruling of the court

2.2 Punishments

Such include (but are not limited to);

- Ordeal by fire

- Ordeal by cold water

- Impalement

- Crucifixion

- Flogging

- Stoning

- Beheading

- Hanging

- Imprisonment

- Starvation

- Torture by rodents

- Boiling

- Flaying

- Drawing and quartering

- Live burial

To be dealt as the judges (or other applicable authorities) deem appropriate.

As written and introduced by Viedrick Godefroy de Attre, lowly acolyte and foremost servant of God

ISSUED AND SIGNED,

His Royal Highness, The Prince of Rubern,

Marius I Stiboricz

15 hours ago, Mistel said:

A young boy sat on the bench in the city of Sutica, a leather-bound journal was tightly clutched in his arms.

I was being ironic but this actually originates in sutica. lmao

A godsent.

yeah, no. give this a hard pass.

no balance, no elements of any intrigue, this effectively boils down to little more than a powergaming instrument for people who just watched the overblown netflix show to indulge in their edgy fantasies of copypaste geralts of riva and who, mark this, are likely to end up drunk in some sutican tavern with yet another psuedo vengerberg. The protagonism in lotc has already seen its culmination, it shouldn’t be encouraged any further.

yeah the whole sutica hate-train has grown to be a stale meme but the issue is real, y’all know what sort of players will get their hands on this. I do not endorse.

If the Story Team even considers this, I’d truly lose heart.

“What is your baptismal name?”

Reginald de Boot

“Hm, and how many years have you lived?”

A mere 30, but the eye can be deceiving!

“I see, interesting. And where were you born?”

Laria, I come not from the mainland (and I do solemnly pray that you do not mistake this God-blessed Laria for the sickly foulspring of the godless and the elvenesse, that is the late Lyria! Hah. . )

“Aha, and your ethnicity?”

Why, isn’t this humorous! This must be an ill antic; for a man born in Laria, am obviously an Larian! It is an old provinence, indeed, but I had expected that at the least you would present me with a modicum of mind.

“Are you able to read and write?”

Do not allow me to think you for a half-wit! Who else could have written the letter I sent a week past, if not myself? Not to say that I do not own a hand-maiden or several unworthy serfs, but I am a man of humble origins, and an even grander sense of humility. I would not allow myself to be burdened of the pen, to which I hold a great affinity.

“I see. And your family? Are you married, do you have children?”

Nae. I am a virgin, pure and pious.

“How do you wish to serve GOD? As A Monk? A priest? A layman?”

A priest. I wish to appease GOD.

“And finally, do you have any issue with taking up oaths of chastity and devote yourself to our Lord GOD?”

Not at all.

“That should be all.” He finishes writing down the answers “I shall send this to the Prelate of the Priesthood right away.”

A man questions the very sanity of this particular cosm of which they are habitant

The initial two weeks deadline for pending lore should be stretched so as to compensate for the time lost. 

I’m fine with waiting, but 2 weeks aren’t enough if half that time is spent awaiting some clarification.

Ontological Attestment of God’s

Eyes.. manifold. They gaze upon the frail doings of man, but they behold only black. Fate is woven by that which lies behind the eye. And you are naught, but a little thing under the cold whim of an ancient hymn. You lie beside sin, a pool of blood. But you know naught, only a cord to be strung about beneath greater fingers. Old, pale digits.

All lives, to they, are playthings. And you, too, amount to naught, in the grand court of things.

And yet look upon the sea, the waters, how they churn at the coming of tides. . 

But look no further. I have seen men. Simpletons, that peered unto the thrashing storm. The shoddy peasants. Knew they not how the gaze of a Mortal is so fragile? Knew they not of Ghamallach’s fate, who, upon hearing the speech of God in his grave, lost his ears?

Even his children were born accursed. And their children thereafter, and so it was, forevermore. A convicted folk, they had become, damned by the hand of God, to heave the weighty burden of their sin. The devils’ whores. They knew not, the poor things, that some reaches are not meant to be trodden.

And yet they did.

And look where they are now. 

Look, I said! 

Such is their existence… brittle, like the nails of mein foremother, the old grandmother. God rest her. 

And even she indulged unto such blasphemy, curses be upon her.

Like a feeble worm unto an wolf. 

Indeed, they say God is one, but what yet confides them that God is even that? God is many, as is God also dead. Wrought to his grave by the sin of unscrupulous Man. He is dead, and for that, man is responsible. 

Fools.. and you presume God is only dead? I pity your ignorance.. For it is so rotten, and brings unto me only great laughter. Always had the shallow knowledge of such foolish men as yourselves brought me curiosity. Pour blood upon a basin, much like the blood-bending kinsfolk of yore, and they wonder why their names are stained. And their vows are broken. And by God, they are forgotten. Humorous, is it not?

Their tongues are always flailing, to and fro, hither and thither, but they bear repentance never. So be it, let them decay under their hollow graves, their putrid sarcophagi, coffins of black dirt. Let them suckle on the devil’s teat, to my disconcern. But soon comes the day, in which they will writhe like pigs wallowing their snouts in the muds of arrogance. And yet even more; they are so cursed, blind, they deign that God is two. It is only their eyes that are wrong, mind you. Hence their words are also corrupt. They may attempt to speak the truth, that lingers in their mind, but their tongues are botched; their words are twisted in their mouths, and thus their speech also comes out corrupt. And appears as such. But worry not, it is only the sinful that brave such demise. For is it not their sorry fate, to lap at anguish?

Oh, you waning souls.. Your woes frighten me. And I concede, that it may frighten also any saint. And is that not what I am?

A saint.

Wretch, plead me favour unto God..

I do not wish to suffer death.

Shed my skin, akin to serpents.

And bare me afresh.

God Bless, Reader.

Viedrick Wledyr verch Attre

An old backstory I had written half-sanely a long while ago. Enjoy (or not)

What a poor thing, he was. The lost dog. Not only a bastard, and a fatherless orphan, but it was before his very own eyes that his mother died.

A *****, a ***** of a mother, who cared not an ounce for the child. Not a modicum.

But she begot him, and she flung at his weak hide, rending him with horrid scars, and to this day do they linger upon his skin, like memorial marks, a relic to endure the ages. She cared little, and yet she kept him alive. The feeble, piteous thing. 

Yet fate followed not far behind her, the wench. The perfidious fate that would, time and time again, befall sinners like her. But fate was also a *****. It also trailed after the pureblooded, the pious, and even the heathens. And such fate, of the ill-sort, ordained itself unto the wench, restless may she ever be in death, ever hung and festered within a sarcophagus of old dirt. Rubbish. Such was her worth. A coffin of manure, and rotten copse.

She fell, that one, dreadful night, to the blade of an honorless ravager, in an assailed tavern. How he relished her death, it was almost as if, deep within, he knew of the rot that lurked within her heart. The bitter seed of a bastard’s mother, and the wife of a drunk. He played with her scalp, the brigand did, and feasted on her flesh. For what else was there to eat? He beckoned his comrades over, and they drunk their fill, and drowned their sorrows away – those brought on by the war so feverishly raised in the Aeldinic mainland, by the province of Morce. 

They drank the wine from her thick skull, and they whispered secret tales amongst one another. Forbidden lies of the age of yore, and tales of an unsung lore. Dark, forgotten truths. And they bartered jokes, and they howled in laughter. Whilst there, peering from the broken shards of a window, stood the child, gandering at the remainder of his mother, what was left of her that hadn’t gone to ash or wronged scalp. He watched, silently. He couldn’t recognize the head; for how could he? It was but a skull. No. A carved dome. A figure of bone. But he knew it for what it was. No other head could have been so rotten, so vile.. a thing of foul progeny. But he recognized it upon dry blood. The wrong, misgotten blood. That of bastards and whores. Of his own lineage. The boy would not forget that blood, spilt at the night of reckoning, the night on which justice, a sore lie, reigned.

Soon, the child, orphaned all the more without mother nor father, fell in service to the mark of the broken lance. Where he was properly fathered, and trained more akin to dog than man, to service his clients’ bids. Blades drawn, the dogs – or better yet, Jackals – ventured into the accursed swamps, basins and troughs, and they all drenched their steel in the blood of beasts. Him and his brethren, shoulder-to-shoulder, ridding the land of all prancing monstrosity. And they did, for years, even beyond his coming of age.

But the poor, wretched thing.. Even he knew, that fate hadn’t meant for him to last that long. Nought would last, and even the greatest of feasts are wont to be dined upon. Thus, the night came. And the crows sung, and the dead cried. When within dark fogs, they danced away. Striking their blades unto craven foes, and risen dead. But another hound yet came. And another. And another, for much time. Whereupon a head sprung aloft, and the weak screams disgorged. The screams of children, who hadn’t any time to grow. Little Jackals. And who knew not playthings and games, but hunger, steel, and wretched stains. Blood of brothers, not foes. He veered abruptly, trying to catch a look, but there, he froze. Speechless, he stared at fate, and fate stared him back, and his mouth fell agape. Dancing, flurrying, their blades ceased. The murky dirt was drenched wet beneath the severed head, with blood gushing abundantly, a feast for the earth. But the poor, abject child.. he could not even weep the death of a friend. But more; a brother. Another figure prowled against the boy’s back, and plunged a blade deep – low into the broken soul of a sorry thing, not even meant to be born. The offspring of godless sin. 

The child awoke after the passing of many months, but alone. In the warmth of their keep, beside a kindling hearth. He rose from the bed, jolting at the agony within his abdomen. Alive, but among the dead, who knocked at their coffins underneath, deep below. He could feel their hideous teeth clattering, smiling at his paltry self. At his misguidance. And he wearily limped, and trudged farther, and the ages passed, but nary a trace was left of his brethren. Naught.

But the man still hunts, even now.

Lest fate befalls him, as it did they.

. . But it wouldn’t. It’s all a terrible antic.

A mad verse, the lot of it.

Farces, and frivolous blood. It’s enough to make a man sick

wrong forum, buddy

The old Count of Vrakai returns from his tedious pilgrimage, which he had embarked on to deliver himself of sin.

Briefly, he was told of the patent, the sight of which had brought a great smile upon his face. He ensured that his quill would be wetted in ink, a letter penned, and the response thereby sent to her court at the earliest convience.

“A welcome of most honourable order, dear Anabel.

You have done our people a meritable good thus far, and I thought it necessary to applaud your exemplary efforts – to which Rubern and Vrakai both shall remain ever thankful.

May you remain in God’s grace, and the riches of heaven be strewn upon you and your offspring-to-come, forevermore.”

5 hours ago, Tigergiri said:

Try to solve it via yourselves first! 90% of the problems are fixed by talking to the player/person.

This spells out a horrible way to excuse mods from doing their duties. In reality, all this is going to do is let toxicity fester among players and we’ll get to witness the classic lotc shitfest unfold on both forums and ig, as it always has been to no real avail. And this statement only makes things worse.

If it isn’t clear yet, the playerbase can’t really level heads when a majority values self-interest over collective experience.

5 hours ago, Tigergiri said:

• If it takes us a bit longer to tp? Don’t fret we are probably loading in the chunk so we can safely spawn you in. Below we’ve listed from newest to oldest update posts. 

this also seems like a way to condone mods for stagnation on the basis of that they’re loading chunks, but we’ll see

5 hours ago, Tigergiri said:

We have a lot of changes coming your way that hopefully get you as excited as I am! I am bit late but don't bring out your pitchforks quite yet! We are here and ready to update!

too much glitter on text, and this unfortunately comes out as a facade

But I hope I’m at the wrong here.

“Let there be daemons of dark, that they may move unto the lesser light, beneath the cover of a moonless night

Let there be greater light, that they may drift deep into bloodful caverns cometh the sun.

And thus it was, by God’s purging light, that the moon-fiends disapparated, set alight.”

The winds of snow blew harsh against the higher alps, dividing the clouds that had taken abode over morning’s light. As it fell unto earthen peaks, the frost melted and the pools bore news of a terrible order, news that forewarned the descent of a beast born in the womb of a shadow, an accursed breed, unperished in the face of sapping Man. The eyes of the shallow beast wavered, and their revelation heralded a time of great awakening. Blood-starved, the monster thence swore an oath, that it may sow death in conservation of its sacred, waning kinfolk.

Once known in faraway lands as the Vrykolakas, the forgotten brood of the large, pale-headed apparition returns to preside regally over its marked cavern, sat in a nest of black bones, a thronal ash, where it avails on terrorizing the nearby populace with venoms wrung of a parched throat, a throat that yearned for the rending of blood. The beast’s overly protective mannerisms appear derived from recent childbirth, suggesting it may very well be fostering children of prey that it strove to defend with maternal ferocity. Carrion crows flocked ravenously to the beast, awaiting, that they too may soon feast on the strewn copses of its slaughter.

[!] Contracts can thus be seen pinned tight by nails across all manner of walls over townships, cities, taverns and establishments, warning of such vile monstrosity and promising a great sum of coin for whomsoever claims its head. It reads the following,

“Villagers beware! For the claws of a grey, faceless beast tear without prejudice, and numerous times did it pounce upon consorts of wagons, or stray travellers, of whom the blood lays to this day spilt on paved roads and high rocks; there being no man or beast valiant enough still to face its threat head-on.

To those who may yet build up the courage, the beast prowls by a great cavern within the vicinity of Rubern.

The pay is negotiable – simply announce yourselves and ask for ‘Viedrick de Attre’ by the outskirts of the principality and I shall, by God’s will, oblige.”

25 minutes ago, argonian said:

Yeah so instead of having local blacksmiths like you said, instead you just have these few huge grinders who supply/sell to everyone while the majority of players are utterly useless. Fantastic. Messaging darksalvo on Skype to make me and the boys some sets of armour because none of us can do it ourselves is truly the pinnacle of RP. 

 

And how exactly is this bandits’ heaven? Back in the days of Nexus PVP gear, a couple well armed bandits(or even just shittily armed bandits on horseback) could take out the entire town guard and win fights massively outnumbered. Now the playing field is levelled so that people who don’t spend all day gathering loot still have a chance – but that’s bandits’ heaven somehow???

The actual execution of nexus was terrible in many ways, I don’t disagree with that – and it was the community’s revolving self-interest and protagonism that drove it to such. The idea however that with minimal resources and individual effort, you could make 20 sets of iron armour all by yourself, is broken in this implementation. One thing nexus pvp got right was the cost of heavy armour and its mechanical deterrents.

You still get seething retards in full iron armour outrunning naked citizenry, so it’s not that far off.

8 minutes ago, howard said:

 

 

 see the above

3 hours ago, argonian said:

snip

 It made sense for a smith with hard upbringing to face greater difficulties settling in the craft than another that was entirely funded. It’s supply and demand. Why should the two be met with the same obstacles when one is needed to provide for a nation and the other’s not?

The grinding aside, nexus in concept could’ve paved the road for a lot of RP — and whether or not people like you took that into their advantage is beside the point, it provided the potential, and I’d take that over this broken bandits’ heaven anytime.

I’m not asking for nexus, it’s long gone and I couldn’t care less at this point.

I genuinely miss the experience of having to track down the steps of that old master-smith to have him forge me a blade of certain alloys. It was tiresome, sure, but it had positively driven me to interact with the populace, and made the notion of professionialism less arbitrary and free-form than now. Guild members had to branch out back in the day, becaue otherwise their company would be missing in some respect. But on the contrary now, everyone in the guild can be the cook, the smith, and the badass one-eyed scarred fighter who breached and emerged from the bowels of war unscathed, and later named the butcher of what have you. It’s fucked.

nobody bothers with the local blacksmith or baker in these trying times because anyone can be their own master of all trades, and without any practical deterrents at that. Nexus had its flaws, but ngl, it brings back some of my fondest memories in this server. It kept things on a leash.

15 minutes ago, Luvvy said:

The old man was in fact looking for sin where sin had not taken place. He's also suffering from some sort of illness as he most certainly wasn't present for the event written about, odd.

It does not take a bright mind to deduce mental illness where it most certainly resides. And indeed, one needn’t be present to point out a flaw – or an ill-born sorcery – by which a gas such as neon suddenly apparates in one’s writing...

Ah, but one must always flaunt their skills, like a dancing mutt awaiting applause! The burden of shame falls not on you, so fret not.

11 hours ago, Luvvy said:

suddenly neon blue

An old, rotting thing questions the integrity of such colours as the colourless neon existing in the living realm. Had madness truly touched him? Or was it that technology had advanced to such an order that the periodic table was conjured ages beyond its time?

Ah, but with the liberalistic knowledge and perverse pattern of thinking the elvenesse had self-insertedly acquired, it was no wonder such trophies were to be garnered ahead of time. 

Or was it that he was nitpicking arbitrarily to find sin where no sin had nestled?

Idiocy, the lot of it. The bitter seeds of an aging man.