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About MayRndz

  • Birthday January 4

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  • Character Name
    Zaelyn Arvellon | Leilatha Athri'onn | Priscilla Romstun
  • Character Race
    Treelord | High Elf | Human

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  1. Leilatha nodded upon seeing this officialized, a humm of content escaping the golden haired elfess's lips. Her skygod has PTSD from being apart of a multi hour meeting.
  2. Eyes lingered, those pine eyes rested upon the skies. Stars twinkled like a dance of day and night, forever intertwined as gray clouds rolled across the basin above. There the red haired ‘ame stood watching them depart towering as a sentient guard where she was able, it was there that she stood until they were to return with the task accomplished. The wildcat could not follow, her tousled appearance instead watching over their very home. That was the sanguine way, when one passed on their brothers and sisters stood vigilant in a solem silence until they had passed to the next realm. That feeling washed throughout her as a light flashed within the distant sky towards Ando, night turned to day if not for only a moment, and she knew knew what had been done that day.
  3. [!] ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴠɪꜱɪᴏɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴀɴɪᴄ ꜰᴀʀꜱᴇᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴅ. ╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗ The Weald was quiet this night - if one could even call it a weald, these days. The ground was caked in ash, mighty arbor rent asunder in fire’s wrath, the woodland critters long since vanished from this forsaken waste. The rain fell like teardrops upon the salted earth, disturbing the layer of soot that had shrouded the once-verdant fields of grass like a blanket of woe and despair. But the silence soon was broken - ashen trunks groaning, roots squirming, the earth quaking beneath one’s feet as something was awoken. A singular leaf, solitary, fell upon the ground… and like a wave, green surged forth from it. Vines and tendrils of vegetation consumed the ash and smoke, like geysers did trees of leviathan scope surge forth from the earth, and the salted earth drank greedily of the rainwater, soon finding itself hale and hearty as it was in elder days before it was cast aside by those who once paid it proper tribute. It would take its toll, in blood, gold, or faith. In the distant volcanoes, lava and smoke poured onto the volcanic rock like sludge, pipes of metal tearing themselves free of the earth as furnaces were molded from the stone. Dead and forlorn arbor was tossed into the flames, rivers of steel forming the foundations of an age that could soon be - an age not of faith and tribute, but an age of steel and fire. Mighty testaments of industry clove through the land and towered high above all, matching the height of the great trees of the Weald. For though it brought ruin upon the land, this city of steel and silver brought with it progress. The old tossed aside, and the new made ironclad in its professed superiority. Deafening roars of groaning metal broke the skies above, sundering cloud and star alike. Beauty was needless. Nature, primitive. Machination, artificery, and the profaning of that which came before was at hand. All in the name of progress, for better or for worse. There would be no balance. Only Steel. A voice like earthen tremor spoke unto they who were woven into the fate of Krug’s kind, beholden to the intangible masters of domains innumerable; “ÂꜱʜÛʀᴢ-ꜱʟᴀɪÛʀᴢ-ᴜʟᴜʙ, ɢᴏʟɴᴀᴜᴋ ʙʀᴏꜱʜᴀɴ ɢʜᴀᴀꜱʜ-ᴋʜᴀɴ ɴᴀᴀɴ, ᴛʜʀᴀᴀᴋ-ʙʜʀᴀꜰ ᴋʀᴀɴᴋʟᴏʙ-ꜱᴀᴀᴋᴀꜰ ʙʀᴏꜱʜᴀɴ ɴÛʀᴢᴜᴍ: ᴛᴀᴜ ᴛʜʀᴀᴋᴜᴍ. ꜰʀÛᴍ ᴀɢʜ ɢʜᴀᴀꜱʜ, ᴜꜰᴜʀ-ʜÛɴ ɴᴀɴᴜʟɢ-ᴜʀᴜᴋɪᴍ ᴜꜱʜᴅÛɴ” ╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
  4. Liturgy & Rites of the Sanguine Fire “Narnsae ito iyl” Sanguine Callout When members of the sanguine fire are to call upon their brothers in arms during a time of need they can call out these exact words letting them know they are to gather. It is also used as a means to speak about the sanguine fire in terms of what can be considered a prayer. “The heat of passion burns hot in crimson blood. Through this passion, we devote ourselves, Through this devotion, we honor our ancestors, And through this honor, we grow strong. Our passion is the Sanguine Fire that our veins bleed.” Promise of the Flame When a sanguine Fledgling completes their trials under the light of the moon below the red sanguine trees, they are to recite this before the Heralds and other members of the creed before they can officially become a brother or sister as a show of their devotion to the cause. “Through the ichor that burns and boils, and strength in the sanguine fire that our veins bleed, I find my passion leading me forward. In even the darkness of the night I am one with the natural cycle of balance, and will protect it as it comes and goes. O’ great spirits protect me as you will and in turn I will devote myself to the cause. Through this devotion I honor those who have come before me, and find strength in this path.” Rites of the Fledgling Every follower of the creed walks the path of a Fledgling before they are truly granted the blessing of adorning the armory and name as a hunter of the wild flame. He or she has to overcome a series of trials given as a challenge to attest to how they are to face the wrath of the mani and wild gods. Heralds of the sanguine fire overseeing these trials and watching. The Path Less Walked This trial is rather one of the most simplistic of them all, if one does not learn about the creed prior to offering their commitment to the trials they must first learn about the different traditions and points to follow, having the chance to get to know active and past members as well as founders. Trial of the Blade Sanguine weaponry by tradition are made by each warrior to suit their own liking and conditions, the baldes always having kuila infused into the design representing the path ahead that they will soon lite for others. The task is to collect their own kuila and create a unique weapon of any sort which will then follow them along the path. No Way Back To show their devotion while stepping into the lifestyle of this rigorous and dangerous following, the fledgling is offered a hallucogenic to breathe in before their carried through the woods having to make their own way home. Trial of the Warrior The trial of the warrior is one that is a challenge in hand to hand combat with the guide of said follower. They must beat or show a great deal of improvement in this challenge, following along with honesty and never show means of deceit when a challenge is called upon, it is our sacred tradition. A herald can declare this trial to be completed even without the fledgling having one if they feel they have been tested well enough. Trial of Honor The trial of honor is for those in the creed to show humility and respect. To hunt and kill a natural beast for food or material, never sport, must be followed by proper thanks given to the fallen creature for its death and its bounty used to the fullest possible capacity. To always offer proper offering and care when taking from the flora of the wild. They must either plan and go on a hunt of some sort, or heal nature where it is suffering. Heraldry The sanguine flame holds itself and their members to the utmost respect for this skill and teaching method, letting your passion lead you forward while not letting your emotions overwhelm you. Becoming the vindication and protectors of the balance they shape something that no one before them has. Thus when the time comes to choose another a vote is first held among the creed to ensure who is chosen is worthy of the title, and a show of faith is demonstrated. For warriors this show of faith often spar with their teacher or a current Herald, medics a show of their immense skill and knowledge, for archers how many arrows can strike the hearts of their fellow warriors by hitting the targets with ease. Anything along these lines can be accepted so long as all members of the creed deem this worthy during the vote. Ilmyumier Tattoos The markings of the sanguine warriors tend to be some of the most intricate and interesting out their, the top of their neck marked with a design much like the winding roots and branches of a newly grown sapling, representing the birth of a new warrior. Many choose to expand the tattoo along their backsides and arms to map out their experiences, traumas, and what sort of things they believe to be important milesones. Experiences, age, and achievements are often marked into this beautiful tapestry of time. Funeral Rites Death is an acknowledged part of the cycle for most sects of the Druidic Order with the Orriran'taliiyna being no exception to this occasion. While it is a somber moment, with many followers being closely knitted in the pursuit of balance, feeling and knowing of the passing of a brother or sister, it is also a cherished passing. When these brave individuals, druid or not, fall on the creed’s path, they are given an honorable, respected, and grateful funeral in the hopes of ushering their spirits faster into the Eternal Forest. This rite begins with a hunt in which the participants remain silent and utter not a single word and in full, traditional armor until their return to the site of the feast and burial. Once returned with their prey, the feast is held where the fallen are remembered with cheer as well as with sadness until the time comes to burn the body of the fallen warrior. The fire remains lit until the body is burned to nothing but ash in a natural stone basin where the burned remains may be gathered up. Once gathered, the ash will be used to fertilize one of the surrounding Miruel’ame trees that make up the burial forest of the Orriran'taliiyna. This forest, hauntingly beautiful with the fog produced from the Miruel’ame that make up its woods and the bright red leaves that fill the canopy, serves as one of the most sacred sites to the Orriran'taliiyna. Wedding Rites The wedding rites of the sanguine fire often follow closely with the rites of the green priesthood, those following the flame often well versed in their tradition as well. in order to join two together they would need the approval of either their seed chieftain or the closest immediate family. Often for the location of this event choosing somewhere sacred to the Aspects and Mani. Something unique to those of the sanguine fire being that they join in the red forest where all are welcome. Much like traditions of other priesthood, creeds, and elven seeds, those who are joining together must make a gift for their significant other showing both their craftsman skill, and a symbolic way of the two joining together through a journey of hardships and faith. After which when a location has been made out clearly, invitations are sent out, and people have shown the ceremony can begin. Often Heralds of the creed lead the elves to the alter, although on occasion it's also welcomed for chieftains of seeds they come from to do so and present them to the priest. After the ceremony a celebration is had on which the sanguine warriors often celebrate in a show is their skills, adorning their sanguine ink for others to see while doing something that leads their passion forward, sharing a craft, baking, a spar, the ideals for this being rather limitless. The Redwood Forest Sanguine warriors revere the redwood forest with much respect to the Miruel’ame that make up its woods and the bright red leaves that fill the canopy, fog following about the rim so that one could not see into it. The trees serving as one of the most sacred locations for the Orriran'taliiyna, often where the dead are buried, and more somber serious rituals are held.
  5. Ayleth O'Hara the long lingering ghostly figure who had prowled along these plains for many years had not found peace... more unrest settled across this family and she has found who she must haunt next...
  6. I will express this here for what others have expressed to me : what's happening to the current world team applications?
  7. As of right now any animal bigger than a golden retriever isn't used in combat
  8. Thundering waves crashed upon the shore, weathering away at the rocks as they shifted back and forth. A softened white foam floated atop the waves. Within all of it a small body was washed upon the shore, soaked and disoriented from the flow, and a strangled breath left her body. She had been dragged through some of the harshest, and most rugged conditions plunging from a ship during a dark storm old enough to know better but young enough to have a lack of skill when it came to swimming. “Haelun!” a shriek escaped as the small body plunged into the icy water below, head ducking down below the waves. Noone had come for her… The ending of one path is the beginning of another, like the closing of one book before flipping to a page in the next; a story doesn't end, it simply continues. Thus as the elfess landed herself upon the shore of a place known to the wood elves and druii as a peaceful lone standing city, roots wrapped about her body as a druid lifted her to the safety of dry ground.. A place of wonder in which she never quite came to understand or see before that day had come. And yet though these lands were new to her its existence was short lived, waves crashed and churned violently, the ground shook and druids gathered to protect and carry on the legacy of the mother tree. She watched this happen with a lack of understanding before being loaded onto a ship… everyone traveled for many days and nights crammed together on large pirate and nation ships alike. . . and one only could wonder if this is where her parents had been heading- in search of a new land. And yet though these lands were new to her its existence was short lived, waves crashed and churned violently, the ground shook and druids gathered to protect and carry on the legacy of the mother tree. She watched this happen with a lack of understanding before being loaded onto a ship… everyone traveled for many days and nights crammed together on large pirate and nation ships alike. . . and one only could wonder if this is where her parents had been heading- in search of a new land. “What shall we call you sister?” her eyes peaked open from the deep slumber she had been plunged into, looking at the Caracal druid with a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Riptide” she brought herself up on the pride of being a druid with such a totem of both strength and struggle. Showing how she had overcome whatever was thrown her way and that her lifestyle was in fact one of chaos. “Sister Riptide,” she echoed her own words with a nod. A Riptide… that had been her totem, a strong current that flows across another, unpredictable in its wake of movement. When you think of a riptide you think of the dangerous, unpredictable, wild currents near the shore of the ocean. It was fitting for her at the time, but now it seemed almost wrong… she wasn’t such an unpredictable person, but rather she knew what she wanted, and was willing to work towards it. The hardest thing about her was being able to let go. Turning she listened to those chant her totem and the sound of the chorus drowned out her thoughts with the wonder of what would come before her moving forward. That chance seemed to have torn itself away from her just as her family had been because of their actions and choices. Her own future being dragged out not really seeming to traverse as if she were halted in time. The young druidess turned her back to those who had helped her along the way, her shoulders slumped and seeming as if she were left in the darkness alone. Resent plagued her mind and she ran to let the forest overtake her, to learn from the cycle of balance rather than others. Eventually it drove her crazy, being left alone and after putting in a lot of thought she began her descent home, shoulders slumped forward out of tired energy. Her movements became more of a stammer… it wasn’t a surprise to find that the adventure had drained her but at the same time after so much thought she found herself at peace within her own mind. Upon all of her journey she never expected to find herself returning to someone she had turned her back on, and yet she did. That same day she staggered back to the center of the mother grove, her gaze meeting with Miven before offering a bit of an embrace. She was more than willing to defend her family no matter what had gone through her head. With time comes change, Change is a part of the life's cycle, apparent in just about everything. If you don’t like something, change it, and if you can't change it.. well change the way you yourself view that thing. One would find because of this Zaelyns ideal for reality had turned false on itself. A vision isn't always something you comprehend so easily, maybe it’s trying to tell you something but almost never in simple words, never in a way you can think of and realize without thought being put to it. For that same reason you’re endlessly looped through it until you see something you didn't notice at first. For Zaelyn, it was the fear of letting go of that final breath, keeping her from moving onward. It took her a while to figure out what it was telling her, but this she knew for sure. Getting dragged into that vision one final time she closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the water and the tides that ripped and turned around her. She didn’t offer any struggle or objection, ‘Let go’ she thought to herself as she let the water fill her lungs, everything around her being consumed with a dark void of black. Her mind was blank, nothing to see or hear. . . ‘How did I end up here? Why did I end up here’ ‘It will all become clear oem'ii, just give it time’ Before long the subtle glow of a light seemed to spark in the distance filling the void, becoming brighter with each moment until it was nothing but blinding forcing her to close her eyes. When they were to open again she saw the night sky before her, littered with stars of all sorts, and she remained there until finding herself waking up again under the same tree she fell asleep beneath. Her totem had become something else, shifted just as the tide had done. ‘Sister Starlight’ The new totem had been fitting when her life began to settle, for once she had a home and a goal to work towards, one that allowed her to finally get a chance to know not only those around her but the person she wanted to be. However, as one does, that did not last long for her… Pirates found their way to the vale with bombs and fire, taking the city with unexpected force while they were trying to have a rather peaceful tavern night. The city began to crumble and fall as they armored up and stampeded down to the shores of the city to face the foes who had dared themselves upon the druids. Blades met Spears, and trees began to grumble and creak as the ground below was loosened and started to erode away. Many were crushed and injured, and evidently leading to the elves retreating from their own city. It didn't come without consequence, the starlight druidess herself taking a spear to her chest.. One that exploded in her chestpiece and allowed shrapnel into her lungs. She lay there hanging on to what would have been her inevitable end as she began to hack up blood. How horrible it must have been drowning from the inside out.. Though she had not met her end that night her world had been turned upside down, something about her completely changed whether it had been for the better or for the worse. Some may say the stars above had been calm before the evident return of the storm… as she found herself standing below one of the sanguine trees resting near the shoreline. It was as if the druid had returned to where she truly belonged the entire time. “I am the Riptide”
  9. Bid: 120 Skin: A Very berry garden Discord: MayRndz#0069
  10. Man east hub looking a little baised here...
  11. [!] The starlight clad druidess stood within the walls of the Vale as her dedicant headed out, her ears flicked back as she bowed her head muttering a silent prayer for the safety of the other elfess. There she sat below her tree for the time in which she had been gone, awaiting the evident return.
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