ToddTheArchitect

yeah, long time no see chaos! And that is exactly the idea. They have come from the ruins Khalenwyr from a “pilgrimage” just like any other current Kharajyr did canonically (and still can), as it says in the post. if this gets denied for a dumb reason like “Khalenwyr is destroyed” or “Metztli is dead” I will be mad

fixed

Kha’Leonis: So’Chakal, the First Leonis in Aevos The Kha’Leonis bears a coat ranging from bright Gold, to the darkest of sun-kissed tans, similar to their Leparda cousins. But, they will never have spots or stripes, and their stature is comparable to that of the Tigrasi, with a similar muscular physiology, but unable to reach their height. Their tail is long, sometimes with a large tuft of thick fur on the end. This subrace has always been known to grow the largest, most impressive manes in Kha society, but such a thing barely compares to the ego the Leonis inhibits: a boon from Metztli, fueled by the great feats of their Leonis ancestors, and inherited through perhaps.. genetic narcissism. Traditionally, the Kha’Leonis have always been the most narcissistic of the Kharajyr family, not a far cry of the pride of the High Elves. This pretentiousness gives them a distinct courageous, but reckless personality, with the Leonis being known throughout Kharajyr society as a glory-seeking, power-hungry subrace, who would stop at nothing to put themselves in a seat of authority. For this, they were exhumed from Kharakatua long ago, to live on either the outskirts of the declining Empire or settling on the Islands surrounding Khalenwyr, where they stayed for centuries until now. The Leonis typically stands at a height between 5’6 and 6’8, and can weigh up to 250 pounds. Any weight below 150 is considered unhealthy for them, depending on their stature. Just like the Leparda, the Leonis is capable of to pursuing any kind of profession they want, but this hardly happens. Their unrealistic confidence and constant need to prove themselves always leads them down a path to power alone, rarely ever reaching their goal of Aelkos anyways. With this eternal battle for self-perfection, the egotistical Leonis too boasts an innate aversion of impurity: almost never pursuing the Dark Arts or “corruptive” magics such as the Void, unless great portions of time were spent convincing them otherwise. The courage Kha’Leonis has is to a degree any descendent could exhibit, and is not supernatural like that of a Templar. They are still affected by fear-inducing magic like any other soul-bearing creature would be. This also does not lead to invulnerability or negligence of pain in combat, and could infact cause the opposite, with the Leonis bravely charging into a fight it possibly could not win. Though bearing strength comparable to that of a Tigrasi, the “peak” strength of a Leonis is between an Orcs and a Humans, but never above a Tigrasi’s. Purpose: Credits: ToddTheConqueror (Writing) Wretched (Formatting)

Permafrost melted. Cold air turned to Steam... There, before the tree, stood Kazvalikar. His gaze rose from its roots, to its canopy. Today, he spoke no words, told nobody he was here, nor pay any vigil. Only a huff escaped him. Between this Templar, and the onlooking Nephilim, there was a long History. It will be a History nobody knows, because it is one he won't ever talk about. It was of deals, duels, teachings, and at one point, in the end, a rare spark of unity, sadly never lasting long enough to fuel those fires of friendship. It was snuffed out. Snuffed out by the very same force which extinguished so many of whom he fought alongside. But now, Guile finally did beat him at something. Something Kazvalikar could never achieve. What was it, again? He tried to remember. Death. Answered the Moon for him.

THE CORPSE of Braugmaw the Breaker laid crumbled in that Hyspian Valley, now only a set of massive, dusty bones. A headless Skeleton belonging to the Ogrish Creature, perhaps of Krug origin, eaten away by time. SURROUNDING it are the heads of shattered Spears, bolts from Crossbows and the remnants of a Shield. THIS LOCATION is the remnant of a Battlefield, a testament to the power and calculation of modern Kharajyr. One of many such locations.

i've never properly met AlienPebbles, but i do remember coming back from being afk in places like Aaun and Haense with cookies in my inventory, and nobody around to have given them to me. Prayers for them and their family, and God rest their soul

KAAZVALÎKAR knelt in the Ash-halls below Tor'Praeth, the Mace held in both his hands. His gaze laid not upon it though, just beyond, staring into the pit of Heralds before. He was silent, his maw held some agap, liquid Fire stricken against those grounds. He had forgotten the harrow of a Herald-death, the sadness of one who could never transcend with him. In his head replayed his memories with Vidnyr, the same way the minds of those who grieve always recall. This Dwarf, unlike Azlihessan was, will never be his Brother. He knelt for hours. And hours.

KAAZVALÎKAR awoke, emerging from his Drakeshrine: atlast. Falling from it, his legs buckle; and somehow, for some reason, he was exhausted. Burned within his mind, that tattered realm... Will he see the Grave-skies again?

KHALENWYR CULTURE????? OMG?

KHÂZVALIKAR's severed head rolls across the church floor, the rest of his armored body clatters to the ground the opposite direction, soon followed the innocent An-Gho's. Hopefully this was the irony, the wake up call to his Brothers, that the Church's sin far surpasses that of the Ordo Nephilim's supposed, accused own. That is the thing though... It won't.

KHÂZVALIKAR rows the Canoe down the Silver river of Metztli, towards his Fathers new heaven. He'd stop. It was then did the Khazdrazi realize, he was the victim of the Church, this time. Probably because there were no more Kharajyr left for them to kill. "How many times did I have to tell them." He spoke with a risen tone. An angry one. He'd row some more, before stopping a second time, and peering into the Water. "We can grovel all we want, bend our heads to them. It won't matter. I doubt we will seek revenge for today." He'd stand on the boat. Shaking his head to himself, he spoke again! "It took two lives for my Brothers to finally make this... fleeting realization!" Remembering those inverse words the false Aengul spoke to him, before he lobbed his head off, he'd spring off the side of the canoe, down deep into the Silver River; to his drakeshrine. He'll come back. Soon. In a different form.

KHÂZVALIKAR stood in the Ash-Knight meeting, simply listening to the topics of discussion. "-must speak of Vedyolthur." Stood out from the discussive voices. He grins. The mere topic of his friend making him smile! "What of him? Perhaps he made a new grandeur weapon." Voices spoke at once: " He is the first in the New Garden. He is Stone. Enlightenment. He came to me lost. " The Khazdrazi frowned then, nervousness in his belly. "Speak plain!" A demand he made with a spit, with a snarl too of fear, of confusion to such answers. Voices spoke again, in clarification: " He is no longer on this Plane, Brother. His soul, with Father. " Silence.

KAAZVÂLIKAR rose from being knelt in the Ashes, Flaming Ichor falling from his head, tattoos glowing from under his Armor. Though now he stood, he was silent. Liquid Fire stained the ground beneath him. Again, it wasn't blood.

KAAZVÂLIKAR clears his throat, before speaking to his newest student. He'd speak words that aren't his. "...They will answer kindness with viciousness. But to strike, when reason is outstretched like a willing hand, is that strength?" He'd go silent, before speaking more. The Third-Eye's word, recalled just as they were said, the perfect words he had struggled so long to say to those who rose against him. Maybe they weren't remembered correctly, but it didn't matter. "When one holds the capacity to burn it all to cinders, but chooses reconciliation, is he stronger than the one who rebukes him, who chose that violence?" The Khazdrazi rose a hand then, bidding his student to be at ease.

KAAZVÂLIKAR leant two hands upon his Rapier, watching a conversation.