DragonofTaters

He called her sister. That boy did. Her. Sister. A woman so many times his age she could have been his great grandmother at least seven times over, likely more. It was a strange thing to hear the title Sister from one so young. Yet there was some reassurance in that. Some odd comfort not felt for decades or more. The pain and suffering, the loss and heartbreak which twisted and changed her over the years wasn't seen by that boy. He was so different from the elves. He didn't see someone centuries older. He didn't see someone bent by age and sacrifice. He saw a young woman. Full of promise, full of strength. A woman whose body and soul he viewed as worth protecting. She was there, when he took his last breath. Yet she couldn't watch it. She didn't dare. That boy who called her Sister, that boy who brought a smile to her eyes, he wasn't the body there on that bench. He was the boy who laughed and ran around the square. He was the boy who asked questions on every new thing he saw. He was the boy with the gentle hands, who sought to care for and protect every vulnerable thing he saw. He was the boy whose bravery and strength brought him so far, he died amongst the stars. He was the boy who would always be a Friend. He was the boy who would always be her Brother. Ezequiel was the Man who would never be forgotten.

Across the realm a sharp pang ripped through a woman's soul. A gaping wound ripped through her, to never heal. The pain to be carried always, a reminder of the soul lost. Warrior. Father. Student. Friend. Brother. War. A totem which meant darkness, strife, and loss to most. Yet as soon as he had spoken it, it brought hope to her. He was a man who did not falter. Did not yield. He fought, until there was nothing left to fight. Or until there was no fight left to give. An inspiration for a woman who so often faltered in her own steps. Who wondered if it was worth the price.... That sorrow echoed through her now. War had come, and War had gone. His last fight fought until the very end. No longer would he counsel or comfort her. No longer would his steady presence help bring reassurance and calm when all seemed at its worst. Warrior. Father. Student. Friend. Brother. Brother... He would always be her brother. His words would not leave her, even as his spirit departed to another realm. Though she was the guide, it was he who often taught her. His love and strength would not be forgotten. Sanguine eyes burned. Anguish and triumph, joy and rage. A myriad of emotion fighting to be heard, to be seen. Armor clad she ventured across the lands. Warhammer at her side. War would not be forgotten. Her brother would not be forgotten. Taliyun'Orrir Sirame would not be forgotten. His strength leant itself to her now. He could fight no longer. So she picked up the hammer in his stead... ~*~ When the news made its way into the wilds, the woman oft called 'The Mountain' turned to the trees. When her mother had fallen, there was siblings all around to offer comfort and support. Taliyun was one of them. Now it was he they mourned, and she stood alone. Her ventures had carried her too far, away from the warmth of her family. And now, now there was no goodbye. No parting hug for her beloved brother. The hulking woman gathered up her tools and set out. Leaving the wilds she'd dwelled in for so long to find her brother's resting place, and ensure he wasn't alone as he crossed to the Forest. Her stoic soul would not allow tears to be shed. Her silent, lonely walk offering no comfort for the ache that settled deep within her chest. Icy eyes set ever forward as Mordun Sirame finally made her way back home.

A small fiery haired woman squinted at the page. Then turning on her heel she ran all the way back to her home. Without consulting the other, quickly penning a response which she'd soon send off back to Alfie via a plump pigeon. ~*~ Between aviaries, a bird would swoop low, dropping the letter to a certain druid. A quick scan of the contents had a grim smile showing upon her features. At the next town, a response would be sent.

A woman sat in the corner of the tavern. Somber expression set, near enough a scowl. In her hand sat a small piece of oak. Carefully she whittled away at it to reveal the form of a wolf. Mutters fell from her lips. Spoken for the benefit of none save herself. A litany of names...then a pause. "Yours will not be added, princess. When I get my hands on Haldir..." Cursing under her breath, the blade was allowed to slice through her hand. Ichor pooling in the gash to be smeared across the lupine totem. "Even this warden won't be able to save that boy."

May want to add soul trees into the compatible sections of these. The bodies can be regenerated without eyes if the person wishes. Weird thing to do, but technically possible for them if they wanted to be a Seer/slotted Seer. Edit: Nevermind apparently I'm more tired after work than I thought and this was already addressed.

I’m scared to ask why this even got on your radar…

MC Name: DragonofTaters RP Name: Rhae ID: 49742

Two comments from here: For ungrowth, you specifically state that it may not be used on Epiphyte plants or Soul Trees. However this ability is the only ability they have to move their plants. Both lores state that you must have permission oocly and icly for ungrowing to be used however. Do you mean for these CAs to no longer be able to move their plants, or can this be altered to reflect their current CA lore and allow for use with given permission? The other is a purely aesthetic question. Powersharing currently has a non combative, non utility purpose. Granting warmth and comfort to another Druid when used by sharing the harmony and life of the world with a distressed Druid. Would it be possible to maintain that aesthetic/non combative use, or would it cause conflict with Powersharing’s new function?

I can't believe you removed Herobrine. What'd he ever do to the demi-djinns? ;-;

Supreme aesthetics arise!

I believe ungrowth needs the first redline altered, to state that ungrowth can only be used with the ooc and ic permission of the character a Fae plant or soul tree is connected to. As that is the main means of switching their location without death, and is stated in both lores as being possible with the permission of the player and ic cooperation of the character. You may also want to clarify, if that change is made, whether a non connected Fae plant can be ungrown and moved.

I like it. Horrifying danger rodent. I want to consume its flesh in rp. Give me the alcohol bug.

A large elf found her way through twisting paths back to her home. Following a trail, she'd enter the now empty house left by Tailesin and Liri. She moved about, gathering ingredients. Stoking a fire and preparing trays. There in the house left by women she saw as mothers, Mordun began to bake. A familiar aroma of the druids' favorite cookies once more filled their home. Across the mountains an old druid stood. Staring up at the moonlit sky, watching the stars. Lips moving in silent prayer. Tears tracked down her cheeks, betraying the grief consuming her soul. Hidden beneath armor, flesh faded away. Growing over with rough bark, creeping up her neck towards the woman's face...

@TeawithFrisketMy point was that the lore up until last year has never involved alchemy or a need for it. It was a choice made by ST to justify Ironwood having an ST signature. I am aware that a huge portion of alchemy is playersigned. But this was the reason it was added into this particular lore piece. It doesn’t make sense, it is unnecessary, and it is bizarre when an alchemy FA is not required for Ironwood creation. The cultural rp surrounding Ironwood has long involved botany being involved. There was no set lore recipe, it could be rp’d however, but it’s part of the culture around Ironwood to include. ST took that and hyped it up to justify the greentag items were getting. The culture regarding it, even after the alchemy change, didn’t change to alchemical rp. It kept it botanical. The specific plants needed were just added into rp, but nothing about symbols and signs. It should be returned to what it was. A botanical recipe, that meshes with the culture of the lore itself and the playerbase it came from. There is no reason for alchemy to be involved whatsoever. @Aehkaj I do appreciate the clarification on that. Having an alchemy FA as option A gave the impression that was the one that was wanted most. Which, with that perspective, shows a big discord between the rp culture and significance to rp that the lore has, and the groups who recently were taught Ironwood specifically for the sake of making special items to sell.

It's almost like the lore was originally intended to not involve alchemy at all, but someone decided to arbitrarily make this cultural piece that had been around for years require an alchemical process. Here's an idea: remove the requirement for alchemy at all. It didn't exist before. Doesn't really need to exist now. If ST want it to require herbs they should just list out the herbs it requires, not an alchemical recipe. People don't need to understand alchemy to know that over centuries of experimentation, this specific set of herbs worked with this effect on this very specific plant. Beyond that, alchemy was added in the first place because it was being ST signed. Ironwood is no longer ST signed. Therefore, a completely moot point and absolutely unnecessary. It is a cultural, aesthetic material equivalent to iron.

Soft footfalls sounded against the wet sands. Traipsing across a south facing beach, crimson eyes sought a horizon. Tears glistened there. Wood creaked and cracked. A murmur fell from the elf’s lips as a strange glowing form, an ethereal squirrel, perched upon her shoulder. “He always takes too much upon his own shoulders. It was my choice, though he felt responsible for it. Stubborn man.” A tiny boat was pushed from the shore, bottom grating against coarse sand. Within she had set a bottle containing a letter as the spiritual companion looked on. Soon the dinghy bobbed it’s way outwards from the shore. Creatures of the sea rose to the surface, casting a glance shoreward before judging the boat further out. Hours later, they and the current had carried it far from the woman’s sight. Whether to be lost upon the sea or reach the intended recipient, it was reliant on fate now. Left alone with the strange squirrel the woman’s facade seemed to crack. Her flesh shifted, flaking and peeling away to reveal a strange bark running along her arms, stopping only near the shoulder. Wood and sap where flesh and blood should be. Markings of the Father burned up the left, while the aqua of the Mother flowed up the right. Upon her back, silver burned. Grandmother’s touch illuminated beneath the twilight skies…

What if we're only serious?

Take care of yourself Keefy, I’m here if you ever want to talk/vent or feel up to playing a game to distract yourself ❤️❤️ Hope you beat this quick and life gets sorted for you.

I quite like this. It’s a good iteration of the past lores, while still being something new and improved. I appreciate how well defined it is as well this time xD Two points though: in regards to the regeneration, being able to heal from a minor injury in one minute seems a bit fast. A narrative day (one ooc hour) seems a bit more feasible, since the moderate injuries take a narrative month (one ooc day). Second thing: blighted epiphytes. Anything blighted must be healed or else it will perish. Tree lords have a set clause on that, and blighted fae or mani will die without intervention early enough. There should probably be a time limit on how long the epiphyte can remain blighted before it’s past the point of no return. Else you’ll likely get deranged undead zombie plants that run around for weeks and weeks. Blight is a progressive illness essentially, and I believe that should be reflected in epiphytes as it is other fae and natural lore.

I expect nothing less 😎

I don't believe Utah exists. Give me the feat anyways +1

One disgruntled woman leveled a heavy gaze at the missive upon its arrival. “They speak of allowing the Paladins freedom in their lands, and in the same moment invite a known Nephilim to his coronation. Hypocrites and madmen, the lot of them.” She would pass hurriedly through the leaf strewn pathways, quick steps carrying her to counsel with the free Mali of Nevaehlen.

A woman sits overlooking the quiet village. Wyvern staff laid against her shoulder, wooden fingers tapping an idle beat upon her own leg. Mulling the words on that missive over in silence. Crimson eyes watched the wood and sea alike. Keen ears perked for the merry sounds coming from below. How easy it was for those to speak up from blissful ignorance. How easy it was to cast accusations unfounded. Her gaze wandered towards a certain shrine, Malikki the Ape, defiled since by a strange creature. She recalled the words it had spoken, that twisted daemon she'd summoned from an innocent facade. "Ne today Qard. Ne tomorrow either. You may wish to dance on my grave, but you have to kill me first. You've taken my niece. You've taken my lliran. You'll have ne others..." A match was struck, pipe being lit. Trailing aromatic smoke behind her the 'Ame slipped from the wall. Procuring a torch, she'd head for the Ape. "Duty calls..."