Snowers snow

༒︎⊰‿̩͙⊰• ─────────────────────────────⊰[༻❆༺]⊱─────────────────────────────•⊱‿̩͙⊱༒︎ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪɢɪʟᴀɴᴛꜱ ❆ From the office of the High Vigilant ❆ ༒︎⊰⊰• ────༻❆༺ ────•⊱⊱༒︎ With the establishment of the Order of Vigilants once more the time has come for the First Conclave of Azuras in order to organise our ranks and begin our mission once more to shepherd the people of Fenn with Wyrvun’s tenants at heart. Every Vigilant is required to respond to this missive or show up to the Conclave or their role and Moniker shall be forfeit. ༒︎⊰‿̩͙⊰• ❆ •⊱‿̩͙⊱༒︎ Wyrvun liewynh y'kaean -Wyrvun smiles upon us- OOC: ༒︎⊰‿̩͙⊰• ─────────────────────────────⊰[༻❆༺]⊱─────────────────────────────•⊱‿̩͙⊱༒︎ NÚRON ATMORICE, Speaker of the Archonic Council, Archon of the Atmorice Bloodline, High Vigilant of the Order of Vigilants and Wyrvun’s Most Devoted Follower

I love 22the

The Atmorice would plant himself down, slowly unfurling the letter addressed to him. Time was spent pondering after, his gauntleted digits slowly tapping away. "I have a good feeling this time" he would declare, gathering his belongings he would begin to make the long trek to the village

gets story and instantly tries to nerf his opps

I don't think this fits with the lore piece and in parts goes against such

A long gone Atmorice would turn in his grave, disapproving of this revival of the once great house “Let it die” the voice would echo before returning to silence once more

I want freebuild, my most fun time on this server was spent in freebuild in JustAnotherLW's settlement, away from the regulation of staff, away from the OOC politics. Simple ooga booga roleplay in my lighthouse.

L

"As Loyal a man as any" The 'Fenn would comment as news reaches him, he pours a glass of aged wine and gives the man a silent toast "Enjoy eternal slumber, llir"

Read the Purpose at the bottom of the post

So based… so fckn based

"Huh...." was all this Seer could muster, continuing on his way

A Masked 'Fenn would ride into the forests of Yong Ping, dismounting his horse as he lets out a deep exhale. He would withdraw some papers from his pack before tying up the horse by a nearby tree and setting up camp - He expected to be here for a few days. Upon discovering the messages the Seer would get to work, writing out each of the sentences hundreds of times, rearranging them in countless forms completely disfiguring the already jumbled riddles. He would draw his hands over his tired eyes, groaning as nothing seems to line up. Again and again each route tried to solve the riddles until the 'Fenn comes to the simple conclusion - There is no right answer. He visits the first statue and would leave his own note alongside the others "As much as the sun provides" he would write on the note. Then making his way towards the second statue, taking his time at this statue the 'Fenn would think some extra moments before finally putting pen to paper "It was his time". Varan decided to take a break after this note was written. After the small rest he came upon the third, his brows furrowing as each made less sense then the last. He would shake his head, less confident in this answer though eventually he would write "Whatever is carried upon the winds". He was quick with the fourth, scribbling down "Snake" before quickly moving on to the final statue, not wanting to think about the previous. "Their job was done" he would leave the final note before slamming his book shut - simply wanting to get away from the area and finally set his mind to something that wouldn't drive him insane. He would mount his horse and be on his way back to his homely cave in the Vale.

Nations always have and always will rely on leadership. These PKs hit multiple leaders of a single nation at once. First you take an L in multiple warclaims then half your leadership dies. Hats off to any nation that can survive that many Ls in a row

The problem is that it isn't and would not be used for such. The death of smaller nations NLs is basically death for the nation and that simply isn't fair

"The Hexers are a group of glorified swordsmen in desperate need of reform." The 'Fenn would mutter as he reads over both missives

kissing u on the lips rn

God no please no omg no

omg can we make a farm together n get married on stardew?

THE CALLING _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ In a space where darkness reigned with its velvet dark caress and the cold seemed to seep in from all around, eyes peered in, unable to perceive anything outside of the space besides one, circular orb. Resting comfortable within the dark. As if it belonged, as if the void of the realm that it dwelled within was its home. Its domain. It sat there. Its surface shining with an impossible light, and for but a moment. It rippled like water. And in that moment the darkness was no more. A blink. And it was gone. Gone into the ether and a new space, a new appearance had found its home within the vision of those that dared to find their sight back where it had been a moment before. Light had returned to the eyes that beheld the world, a soft, trickling shine of the sun's welcoming rays shining down upon a humble shrine. Born from designs that were inspired by those of the children of dragons, the shrine, the church of an unknown face was cast into an almost divine, and homely glow. A sense of peace and comfort bloomed from every stone, every brick that made up the building that was before them. It beckoned one to come in, to rest their head, to let the haven that had been presented to the eyes take them to safety. More senses were found in use as the creaking of the doors of the church began to open, filling the ears of the one that found themselves going through this journey, this place. And now within the walls as the doors closed behind them with another crack. Similar to a bone snap. It echoed out. Settling over them as a sensation of tiredness, a drain upon her very souls began to pull against them. A writhing hint of shadow was caught in the corner of their eyes as their sight began to dim and grow dark. Grow empty as their sight closed and darkness reclaimed them. But it was only a moment before everything was swimming within the shadows again. A bursting gasp escaping them as they found themselves within caverns, moving through the dark stony depths as the cold shadows stole away so much of the cavern's light, of its sight. The cutting bit of the stone stung upon touch as a chattering sound of clattering breaths, of voices whispered through the wind that flowed through the endless dark creeping space around them as they kept moving through. Deeper and deeper the patter of their feet and the sharp bite of the harsh stone sang against their skin, ruthless, cold, unfeeling. It blanketed them from all around as a pressure built up further and further behind, the creeping sounds of voices growing louder within their ears as every step they made drew the breathes closer, and closer. The chill of their presence started to be felt caressing their backs. Their words are unable to be heard, unable to be deciphered. Biting, gnawing, rattling against their mind and ears as if their breath was starting to fill them up from inside. Just as if they were about to reach their limit, their heart about to burst, their feet weak, and heavy. About to surrender to the hunting breaths against their back a new, soft, gentle sensation touched their hands. A soft silky fabric, a flash of purple to eyes that have only seen white, and black after so long within this realm. And finally. The words could be understood. “ssEeeEEeekkKKK!” And then there was no more. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Soon the blackened orbs which lay over the realm of Almaris would be filled with a new picture, an aged 'Fenn would stand over the orb of his own and would speak a simple message "Meet me at the Church outside of Yong Ping within the coming Elven days" and with that the vision would move to blackness once more as the message ends