DiamondHead

”AVE RENATUS!” an old Adunian would scream out proudly.

An old Adunian would nod in approval

Menev would rest his Janissary uniform on the meeting table in front of Ibraheem and Caliph Abdullah. “I’m leaving,” he would state. Both Ibraheem and Abdullah would stare at the uniform, then look back to Menev. “I expected this day,” Ibraheem would say. “What makes you want to leave, rafiqi?” Menev would stare at his uniform as well. “As time passes, I look upon the terracotta that I used to build our houses, our walls, even the palace we reside in, and I feel both pride and unbalance. As time passes, I see young men become elite soldiers within our ranks, watch them follow commands that they would never understand, and feel uneasy. As time passes, I realize that what I am doing… it just is not me.” He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “As time passes… I look to the world beyond our walls and I wonder what it would be like to live out there again. I’m no Farfolk, Ibraheem. I’m Adunian. And I believe it is time for me to find my own path.” Abdullah would rise from his seat and walk slowly towards Menev. He would stop in front of the Adunian, and look up at him. “If that is what you want, rafiqi… then we will not stop you.” Menev would let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Abdullah.” Two days later, Menev would put his final bag onto a horse-led cart. Abdullah, Ibraheem, and others of the Kadarsi Caliphate would look at him climb onto it and take the reins. He would depart, but not before weeping one last thank you to the citizens of the nation he helped build. “Thank you, everyone. For everything.” ((Thank you everyone from the Kadarsi for the great times. Adam, Ibraheem, Boomboxdoom, and Mango (if he’s even reading this) are some of the first names that come to mind, but there are many more who I would like to thank. Maybe I’ll see all of you down the line at some point, who knows. But for now, it’s time for me to try out some other RP, so I’m taking my leave. Everything that I don’t want I’m leaving in my house for the Kadarsi treasury to pick up. See you all later.))

it was inevitable

I’ll give it a shot, why not V Not my art V Pridelands: The Wolf and the Tulip A cool breeze brushes against the tall blades of grass. The smell of vegetation fills the nostrils of a stout Qalasheen man. He breathes in deep, the breeze entering his lungs. As he exhales and attempts to take in another breath of the relieving breeze, he is caught off guard and is met with the dry, humid air of the Pridelands. This time, it smells of dirt and cow manure. His moment of relief quickly fades and the blank expression that occupied his face turns into a slight grimace. As he exhales again and the vile breath escapes him, he picks a white rose from a nearby bush and smells it, taking in the brisk scent in an attempt to clear his lungs. He admires the perfectness of the flower. The scent, the look, every aspect about it. He turns to the sight of the towering walls that surrounds his home. And coming out from those walls, another Qalasheen man appears, one that looms above him by a large margin. He is dressed in bronze Qalasheen armor, a shamshir at his side, a bow and a full quiver of arrows on his back. Unlike the fully armored man, the stout man only wears simple cloth clothes with a mere dagger on his side. “Are you ready, Umayya?” the towering man says, “I hope you remember where you saw it.” The stout man, Umayya, looks to him with a blank stare, his dark brown eyes showing no emotion to the towering man. “Na’am, Ahmed, I remember as clear as day,” Umayya would reply, his expression unchanging. “Then let us be off. You will lead the way,” Ahmed would say, gesturing his pointer finger towards the hills of colored terracotta in the distance. Umayya places the white tulip he held inside of his pocket, the head of it sticking out just enough to where he would not crush it. The further the duo trek from the walls of their home, the more anxious Umayya appears. He grips the leather handle of his dagger, his eyes widening and his brows creasing. Ahmed looks to him and chuckles. “I have never seen you like this, habibi. You have always shown no emotion. Yet here, as we walk, it looks as if you are going to soil yourself.” Ahmed gives another chuckle before fixing his gaze on Umayya, who is now beginning to shake with fear. “It is nothing like I have ever seen, Ahmed,” he frantically speaks. “I do not know what the beast was. A-a wolf is my best guess. But — but what it did to the man…” he begins trailing off, his eyes beaming towards the ground. Ahmed’s gleeful expression turns into a look of worry, then back into a smile. “Rafiqi, you know me. I have slain more beasts than anyone in the Pridelands. I have even gotten the nickname Wolf from my fellow soldiers because of how many I have killed. Nothing, no man, no strange monster, no wolf will stop the Wolf.” At the sound of Ahmed’s inspiring words, Umayya appears more calm than before. He looks down and takes the tulip from his pocket. Putting the head of the tulip to his nose, he takes a deep breath, enjoying every second of the scent. Now, Umayya’s expression is blank. “Alright, habibi,” he says with his monotone voice, “let us send this beast to the Seven Skies.” The two approach a dark terracotta cave. “This is it,” Umayya steadily explains, “The corpse should not be too far ahead now.” Ahmed carefully steps in front of Umayya and draws his shamshir, holding it in front of him, his eyes darting to cave’s aspects. The walls, made of a dark orange terracotta, are dry and cold to the touch. The only audible sounds within the cave are the footstep of the two men as they delve deeper. With each step, the air gets colder, and the footsteps seem to become louder. Ahmed, shamshir at the ready,, walks with one foot in front of the other, barely able to see the path ahead. Suddenly, a wet smack echoes throughout the cave. Ahmed looks down and, with his limited vision, is able to make out a pool of red liquid. Behind the pool is a mangled mess of — what he can tell is — a corpse. Moving around to where the light from the entrance of the cave can illuminate the scene, he bends down and examines the body. His fingers trace the wounds that led to the sorry man’s death. While at first the body appears to be one of Qalasheen origin, a closer examination of the ears from Ahmed reveals it to be a young wood elf. “An elf?” he ponders out loud, “Looks as if this beast does not discriminate against descendants of any kind…” Ahmed would trail off before looking at the wounds again. They are small but deep gashes, all across the chest, neck and legs. “These wounds … they appear too small and precise to be one of any wolf that I know of.” He pauses to think. “If I did not know any better, I would say this young elf was murdered by someone, not something.” Ahmed glances behind him to see Umayya smelling his tulip once again. He scoffs and looks back to the body, continuing his thoughts. “It is a wild guess, but perhaps someone has wishes to start a dispute between Farfolk and—“ Ahmed is cut short by by a sharp pain at his throat. He grips it and feels a liquid running down his hand. His sight dims, and he begins coughing up more of the same liquid. As he falls down into the crimson pool that has covered the floor, he looks back to see Umayya’s blank stare. “Sleep well, Wolf, and enjoy the Seven Skies,” he says. Ahmed’s eyesight fades, and he takes his last attempt at a breath. He can tell the air in the cave is cool. A relief from the dry, humid air of the Pridelands. He cannot breathe it in. Three days later, when a search party enters the cave, all they find is a pool of black, dried blood and a shriveled white tulip.

As a Kadarsi lad, and having been in the Kadarsi over the months and seeing the dedicated RP that they have brought forward to the server, I believe that they should get land next map. +1

An Adunian scratches his head in confusion after reading the address. “Huh? Are they serious? This is one of the lads who came to the Kadarsi asking for a copy of the book, saying they wished to convert,” he would say to himself. “Seems as if they lied...”

Men and women in the streets of the Kadarsi Caliphate would sing yet another song while they go to work. Their hearts would be filled with glory and merriment after every line. We Will Campaign to The North Anybody can come to our province But come only if you are brave Only If you pass the blood creek we will campaign to The Enemy Anybody can come to our province But come only if you are brave Only If you pass the blood creek But come only if you are brave Only If you pass the blood creek Listen to the words of the Brave men let us get down to the arena come only if you can wear the shirt of death come only if you can wear the shirt of death Listen to the words of the Brave men I pander to my Beauty's whims the real daughter of Kadarsi Come if you can take her away the real daughter of Kadarsi Come if you can take her away Blood flowing through the sword come if you can face it

Menev Eredil would hear the message and his eyes would widen. He would turn to the Caliph and, with a deep, determined voice, say: ”We will end this. Our city will not fall like the others.”

Menev marks the date, planning to accompany his Caliph during the summit.

o7 i will miss you

As the others celebrated for the new Caliph, Menev showed little emotion while reading the writ. ”So sad to see such a great leader abdicate his throne.” He puts the writ down, a smile inching across his face. ”Now, let us see what Abdullah can really do.”

Hearing of the news, Menev would hang his sword up for the day. He would not say a word to anyone, just pace up and down the roads near Cloud Temple, occasionally looking up at the sky.

Hearing of the fantastic news, Menev would smile and look upon the flag of the Caliphate. "That... took far too long," he would say to himself.

Sitting on his bed, Menev would shine his shamshir, preparing himself for the bloodshed to come.

Menev Eredil would look upon the flag, hands behind his back, a smile spread across his face. Among the crowds, he would tell himself: "One step closer..."

Roleplay: Name: Menev Eredil Age: 40 Title(s): None Combat contest, 1vs1(Yes/No: No Archery contes(Yes/No): No Combat contest(Yes/No): Yes Fellow team members: Ibraheem and Auda OOC: MC Name: DiamondHead_10 Your discord if you have one: DiamondHead#9213

1. What happened to your mic and why is it all of a sudden so silent? 2. When will construction on the official Sultanate walls begin? 3. Whats your opinion on Adunians?

Menev Eredil looked upon the shattered capital, his bow drawn across his back, his arrows resting in his quiver, and his hands held behind him. He would look to his fellow soldiers, chanting in the name of Allah, and would let out a steady sigh. "Perhaps now," he would say, "we may find peace."

Still recovering from past injuries, Menev would look upon the cheering Kadarsi warriors who had just returned. He nods his head in silence with a faint smile on his face, knowing that the battle had been won.