Callistus

mustn’t forget the demon-consorting ascended, as they thrash out words of peace and fallacies amongst those very daemons they sought to exterminate, in that cursed tavern. A sore sight, even to the blind eye.

I genuinely can't stand these unavailing lore posts. I really can't. It's one of the most trivial, pointless things a person could waste time composing. The idea that you think it's beneficial or entertaining to waste hours of your life in pursuit of mineman power under the veil of "entertainment and bringing together rp communities" speaks about how lonely and piteous you must be to get urged enough to write this. It probably seems counterproductive for me to scribe this, because writing genuinely makes me angry. It seems like it's near impossible to have a genuine discussion on this place without some ****wit chiming in to call me things like "retarded cervitaur" or "greek ****". But that doesn’t change the fact that you're literally all rehashes of one another trying to be unique and /creative/, when all you're doing is the same thing -- pathetic power-grabbing and ego-stroking. Your lives are being wasted away because you find it witty to write these worthless threads, when in reality none of this will actually serve you unless you're senselessly addicted to power gaming and ineffectual strength feats. Like you get a dopamine response from it or something. please don't delete this please please I'm only practising my freedom of speech

CURSED BEAST

Let’s all just break bread and end the wars waged within this woebegone mineman server because it echoes the guileful acts of our forefathers and advocates senseless bloodshed and mass slaughter. It undermines the effort of millions who died to stop the repercussions of war, right? This correlates the point and argument you’re trying to make. Appreciate the effort, but no. RP is too sparse and happy-go-lucky as it is.

holy ****

you discredit the degeneracy of some players

you would’ve done my eyes a solid if the entire lore wasn’t condensed in spoiler tags

[!] A young man, schooled in service to the Sect, came to bear the guild's insignia. It would depict their pennant, signifying the end of five-years in training, and the transition from fledgeling to Jackal. Upon its iron was engraved the youth’s name, and the plight from which he had been inducted; Bedrich of Morce, an orphan of war.

A jaded greek yowls

One, disarmed child in stained threads and a state of hygiene to be pitied, stiffened up, lugged his shortsword, then lashed out for the third time at the trunk of an inanimate scarecrow. It stared him back, silent as the moon, with a loose smile cleft upon its wood. ”Tragic thing . .” the battered figurine grumbled in, unannounced.

One, reverent, god-fearing man recited the prayers, then set out to fulfill the holy duties bestowed upon him. For maybe then would the miscreant be cleansed of sin, and amend that which he had erred against God. Maybe then would he appease, and make proud the lone creator. W̶h̴a̵t̷ ̶h̶o̶g̵s̴w̷a̴s̴h̵.̷ ̴S̸i̷n̶n̵e̸r̵s̴ ̶a̵r̸e̴ ̸n̷e̶v̸e̴r̷ ̴s̴h̷o̴w̷n̴ ̴p̴e̸n̸i̴t̵e̶n̸c̷e̸.̷

enslave me. . thrash away at that tragic, ruthful soul of mine.

You sweet summer child ..

A pale, sickly Reiter recites a hushed prayer — striking his chest hard in faith.