OddOllie123

Kulkan'Lur perched himself upon the walls of the goi. His sandpaper fingers caressing the missive. "Mi grukz zat diz kood beh hozh.. Prephare za horde fa waghhhh!! Nub longah wyl zmol men beh vlattin miz' cows!!"

Kulkan'Lur created a thunderous concoction of thuds and roars. The cacophony of sounds emmiting a vibrance of pride... -Not long after, Lur wolf, Theia'Lur, accompanied the mixture of commotion with an eccentric howl. "Agh zo da bruddahz zhoul' peep diz az ahg furdah zymbol zat miz' Wargoth ez ztrong, agh zo da linez ob Lur vollow zuite."

Kulkan'Lur emmits a chuckle from the back of his throat. Patting Theia, his Lur wolf, as he pointed towards the desert. "Iz latz peepin diz? rekkon miz cood klimb azh bub'mountain ta klaim miz' own! Ah trip zounz hozh! Ge' awahy vrom diz huzzl' agh buzzle."

Yordrik Blackroot, avid builder of Hefrumm, runs his hand through his bramble-beard in thought. "Ta protec' our fellow dwedki, dis es goodh, aye! 'long wid dese new walls an' safe 'omes! Tuzic es trulleh walk'n us ento ah goodh age." The forest dwed proceeded to raise a tanyard of meed, swirling it around the mug before raising it to the sky above, pouring its contents directly to the back of his throat. "Ta deh Lord Bear, Thedmar!"

Kulkan'Lur's youthful palms layed flat whilst stroking the pale fur of Theia. The movement sleek and serpentine. "Peeps lyk wi AV zum more vriens miz du.. bettah tiks a'ead mi grukz, tik faw ah strongah mor' united Horde, tik ta peep our strength awayh vrom teh Goi." The kub then proceeded to light a pipe of cactus green, inhaling its contents and going about his day.

Kulkan'Lur wondered if the new generation of Lak were all bark no bite.

Sighs in 2 persona slots

Yordrik Blackroot spits at the ground. "Ta betrayh ones famaleh es ta wish death upon yaself, ets t'uh mos' 'einous of crimes. T'eh mus' beh brough' t'eh justice."

Yordrik Blackroot spurts great tales of the mines to all Hefrumn beardlings, he offers up a boom potion to show the ancient treasures hidden away. "'ere es w'at oiy got! 'Et was an advencha that's fa sure! Couldn' ge' ou' of te' bloodeh pipes!"

Yordrik Blackroot set his eyes upon the returning raid party, the bounty of equipment reflecting the sun's bright rays. The sight telling a thousand tales. "Oiy reckon ya al' nee'a drink aye?" He suggested, rummaging through his bag to throw bottles of whiskey and other bought alcoholic beverages to the soldiers.

Kulkan'Lur furrowed his brows as every word was spoken to him regarding this event, his mind coursing back to Minto'Lur. "Mi nub gruk zah divverenc ob Minto agh zeez odah zmol peepol?! All peep eazy ta vlat!" ...The hobgoblin was comparing halflings to dwarves due to their height, all whilst forgetting he only stood at a measly five foot himself. Nevertheless he was excited by the blood which had been spilt. Eager to go draw some of his own, though whos blood would be split was up to the guidance of Lur and the spirits themselves.

A dull elf of no notable features began to hear ramblings of this league of super best friends. He scoffed whilst tapping his cane against his rather barren shack of an abode. Spouting a rather lengthy sentence of damaging words. "Incompetent halfings. Until their grippers are hidden in the comfort of socks and their hairy toes locked away then I cannot forsee myself joining such a friendship, I highly doubt other well mannered and respectable elves would either. The stench of their trotters alone would put me off even conversing with one of the rancid little beings. I say they're all just dwarves without common sense."

Burried beneath grit and dirt, one Kolmuth Ireheart would bare a grin. Smiling from the heavens as he uttered the words. "Aghuid wou' be prou' aye! Always ah promis' in t'ose w'o seek radical ideaz! Aruuu"

Was lucky enough to get sneak peaks of this before it was posted, and damn, was it amazing to see develop! Some of the most thought provoking and eye-catching clan lore I've seen in a long time. Well done guys on creating a unique clan! :))

A CONJOINED MASSACRE The Skaatch twins were lifted into the air, the waves of illuminating shapes and spirals twisted and turned around them, creating a kaleidoscope of mesmerising colours and intricate patterns that dazzled the senses. The fluorescent fuchsias and sages packed a powerful punch, sending the brothers tumbling downwards into a world of eternal torture. Their agonised screams pierced the air, echoing across the barren landscape, the only sound that could be heard amidst the chaos. Their bodies now grotesquely deformed, pulled apart as if by lur wolves, and their guts spilled out in a gruesome display, emitting a potent stench that filled the air with the overwhelming odour of death. The scene was a macabre nightmare, with deep maroons and chutney yellows splattered all over the surroundings in a surreal, otherworldly display that defied explanation. Amidst the chaos, Hodge laughed, a rather unseemly and unsettling sound emanating from his ghostly figure. He looked like a malevolent poltergeist who had over-indulged in the rosy blush of a human girl, but he was anything but harmless. His eyes glittered with a twisted glee as he watched his brother's suffering, delighting in the pain that he had inflicted upon him. Podge, on the other hand, was silent. The tale of their torment had woven its way through his lips, piercing his jugular and constricting around his voice box, leaving him unable to utter a sound. Hodge fell quiet, his mind raced with memories of his darkest moment. This had to be the most heinous act he had ever committed, stabbing his own flesh and blood. The guilt and remorse weighed heavily on him as he lay on the crippled planks, with jagged splinters wedging themselves deep into his flesh. He was reminded one last time of the excruciating pain inflicted upon him by being made of blood and bone. He was an otherworldly creature doomed to fail, leaving behind only a few legacies, secrets, and regrets. His life had been consumed by his own darkness, and there was nothing left for him in this world. His lifeless eyes trailed back onto his brother, meeting his decisions and regrets in the afterlife. The Skaatch twins were forever entwined, their bond stronger in death than it ever had been in life. The waves of illuminating shapes and spirals continued to whorl around them in a hypnotic dance, as they drifted off into the spirit realm, leaving behind a gruesome and surreal scene of horror and regret.

The vigilant of seclusion, Velulaei'Avern Araaloq, comes across the missive on his travels. Gazing longingly at its contents before wandering off with few words said, but plenty thought.

Upon his travels, Velulaei'Avern Araaloq scoffed. "Naming a tree? What Olog came up with this idea. It is almost as ridiculous as self-proclaiming yourself as a title which carries no meaning. Keeper of Dasi... did an Olog come up with that name too? Wyrvun I hate travelling and seeing such poppycock... all these disgusting missives are giving me a headache. Or perhaps its this sun- maybe it is really time to return to the frigid cold." Whilst rustling in leaves a particularly round dwed chuckles. This dwed going by the name of Porkpie Grandaxe. "I protec duh forests wit dis moightehh belleh!!! No toime fa drinks or gaims. Dats choilds stoof! Dis is big ol' dwarfie stuv!" Hodge'Mog begins muttering whilst reading the missive. "Mi wyl blah wid diz Zhroom, yub yub. Podge'Mog furrows his brows. "Wub wood lat du dat?" Though the uruk gained no response except a smirk from his conjoined brother.

From beneath a pile of foliage, Porkpie Grandaxe cheered for the alliance.

Podge took little notice of the letter and instead inhaled a wave of cactus-green. Clearly uncomfortable being around the vast amount of brethren gathered around the fire-pit. The scene of crowds making him freeze whilst his limbs grew ever more idle, yearning for some tough physical labour. Hodge on the other hand revealed a wide-spread smirk, showing almost orange tinted teeth filled with mank and maggots. Through these protruding teeth he exhaled smoke directly onto the letter whilst asserting a fist forwards. "Diz ez ekzaktli wub miz nyeeded, zo bruddahz kan bi ztrong agen!!" These words would carry themselves with strength however were also diluted into a slur from highness.

(As someone who suffers with personality disorders, a variety of other differences within my mental health, along with mental illnesses such as depression. These are my personal opinions on the subject.) Non-neuro-typical stereo types will always exist, however that does not mean its right to portray them or push misinformation. Across my three (or so) years on LOTC, I have seen a variety of these stereo-types portrayed. And others blatantly played with little research. For reference, Rufus, a halfling character, was portrayed to have depression along with aspects of schizophrenia and PTSD. This is not to diss the person playing this character or call them out on past RP. However Rufus was portrayed very publicly and mental health was the centre of their personality. This is why I use him as an example. Now in my opinion this character was poorly played at the time I was a part of the halfing community (Stemming from late-mid last map, to early this map.) But what many players cannot grasp is what makes the difference between good and poor. So I'll list ways this character specifically could've been better. To outline some do's and don'ts. To start with: The RP was extremely public. Often done in #s without any warning to others of potential triggers. For anyone who does want to play a character with non-neuro-typical traits. Make sure to ask yourself: "Could my RP be triggering to others?" If it is a clearly extreme topic I'd recommend warning others of your next actions. Giving others the opportunity to pull out at any time. And if its less extreme, but still prevalent. Just ask around in-case there's potential for it to trigger others. An example of this would be using (Trigger warning) Emotion in #s: Now avoiding explaining other issues with that emotes. I'll move onto who can and can't play a person with a non-neuro-typical mind. Now there is nobody who cannot roleplay online in LOTC as someone with a non-neuro-typical mind. However you must, and I stress this a lot: research into what you are playing. Read factual, scientific evidence. As well as first-person views from someone who has whatever non-neuro-typical aspects you are looking to play. Because to replicate this in LOTC you must know what the facts are. And you cannot over-play these attributes if they surpass the realism of mental health. As it can create wrong views, push stereo types, and overall express wrong information which can be damaging to both people who are non-neuro-typical and the person with the misinformation. There's plenty more to this subject however I'll leave it at that to allow this information to sink in as is. The bottom line is just: Educate yourself before playing someone who is non-neuro-typical. Learn correct terminology and ensure everyone around is comfortable with your RP. I know this can sometimes be difficult. But unless you are prepared to do extensive research, perhaps don't lean heavily into a diagnosis. (PS: I am by no means a professional. Nor the voice of all people. As we are all different, have gone through different experiences, and don't all have the same 'features' and 'aspects' that someone with the same diagnosis may have. I'd also like to hear others opinions on what I've wrote. Though do know I haven't planned writing this so I may have miscommunicated by own opinions or used incorrect terminology. Lastly I'll point out how I've used the term non-neuro-typical. This is the current scientifical term used that I've come across, for example in my meetings etc. Therefor its the term I am using. As many diagnosis' such as ADHD and Autism are quiet literally different wiring in the mind. And therefor not typical. However this does not mean they are 'worse'. Simply different. Just as everyone is. Simply in a different way. Much love to all. - Olly)

[!] Anyone to notice the pair at the board would see their appearance was much more scraggy than before, and far more paler. They both reeked of cactus green and were clearly high. Or at least the sapphire eyed Hodge, definitely seemed to be. Upon taking a gaze at the notice-board, the pair of conjoined twins noticed a much more puny letter hung beside their previous few. It caused Podge to fall into silence. Accompanied by the intimidation of his looming-brother, Hodge. Who let out a hefty laugh before taking a hit of cactus green. "Eh, mi du nub kare, miz av blahed enuf alrudy." Another deep chuckle brewed beneath his words. "Unlyk diz bruddah aparuntli... mi az nevuh evun peeped diz han' writin' bevor." At these finishing words, the pair tore off the smaller letter, spat upon. And attempted to roll it for cactus green. However after failing to roll it, they simply put it away. Leaving the goi with Hodges departing words of: "Miz av tu go vetch ah pype bruddah, yub yub yub..."

(Moosic) [!] Hung on a crooked nail is an open letter to Ulug'Gorkil @flexMate. It reeks of cactus-green and seems to be stained with a green shimmer with the texture of saliva. And by the wording and length, it looks as if it could have been scribed. Or perhaps not. “Paler than death, gaunter than bone, emotions should be lifeless, to sit on a throne.” Brothers, what is the point of beating an already dead body? Countless clans rise in resuscitation but are bound to ruin. Histories are misconstrued and leaders lead for selfish endeavours of voice and greed. Is the answer to show power? Perhaps... Miz speak of clan Gorkil. And the uruk of the name Ulug. Who time after time has proved little but ignorant in the Iron’Uzg. And has provided everyone with what miz can only correlate to a new-born Olog to babysit. That being of himself. So Ulug, I ask, latz write how Gorkil provides great master-minds and warriors. But do lat truly believe lat represent such traits? Lat; The uruk who captured allies to enslave? The uruk who is in debt? The uruk who failed to capture or kill enemies on raids? The uruk who failed to defend the goi when elves attacked?" Or perhaps lat had forgotten that lat are little more than a thorn in the side of the Iron’Uzg for the past cactus years. This was a topic miz discussed with the previous Targoth. Who informed miz that miz were azh of many who discussed such concerns. Now despite that problem being resolved; miz do not see how one such as latself can truly believe they are the right fit to revive a clan of such a name. So miz lend lat these words now. So lat don’t find yourself diving too deep into a realm lat know very little about. As lat have in the past. And finally, miz ask miz brothers, Do miz want this uruk touching clan Gorkil? A clan with a deep rooted past? Miz say NUB. Moggoth of clan Mog Moggoth of clan Mog [!] A separate letter is sent out privately to Ulug directly OOC

(Moosic) [!] A missive finds its way to the notice-board in the Iron'Uzg capital. It almost shimmers in a coating of sleek oil. Whatever it may be, it secretes a disgusting smell. Though one which is quickly covered by the putridity of cactus green. Amongst other odd smells. Visually however it is fairly typical. A simple piece of parchment messily hung by a rusted nail. With velvet writing presumably of blood caressing the page. “Paler than death, gaunter than bone, emotions should be lifeless, to sit on a throne.” Brothers, Birth is a brutal but beautiful thing. It was the time miz garnered our first kill. On our own momo. Miz exchanged her life to create miz own. Yet still miz waste her blood by wandering aimlessly. Clanless. Purposeless. Idle. But not anymore. Miz true sight has been opened. And now miz true purpose has been revealed. Enough of dwelling in the past. Enough clans collapsing and squabbles caused by puny cubs. Miz raise our purpose. Miz raise the banner of brutality and beauty. Miz raise clan Mog! Miz purpose is simple. And the spirits will not dictate miz as they have so many others. Instead miz guide ourselves, with purpose. Journeying on a path laid out by mizselves. A path of Mog! However do not view miz niche numbers and young existence as a sign of weakness. As miz have already smelt the future to come. Our tongues flickering against fate. Lungs filled with cactus green. As miz are held by nothing but ourselves. Untampered by spirits and idiotic uruks. Clan Mog sits beneath the futh eyes of dub brothers. And miz see empty seats to fill. Seats which yearn for the warmth of forward thinking brothers. The warmth of those who don’t remain chained by old ways. Moggoth of clan Mog Moggoth of clan Mog OOC

“Paler than death. Gaunter than bone. Hearts should be lifeless. To sit on a throne." We, Clan Mog, take the symbol of two intertwining serpents. And in its purest form; it represents the eternal entanglement of other beings. We also take the quote: ‘Paler than death, gaunter than bone, hearts should be lifeless, to sit on a throne.’ This shows the nature of emotions. And how one must lose them to achieve true enlightenment. ⑄ History ⑄ “To progress into the future, one must sacrifice part of the past.” ⑄ Appearance ⑄ “Physicality iz ah glimpze at tuh zoul; zo glare wit ztudy. Az there iz much to learn from azhz looks.” ⑄ Body Modification ⑄ "Bonez protrudez, as miz ar revealed; mi ztake off mizskin, tu stop remainin konkealed." ⑄ Wardrobe ⑄ “Klothing iz nub more d'en eh mazk ta kova miz pride. Miz scars ar an honour. Not ah zecret to hide.” ⑄ Hierarchy ⑄ "Blud grukz nubin widout zpirit." ⑄ Trials ⑄ “Ah tru zerpent zliverz zlowly, but zukkeeds zwiftly.” ⑄ Spiritualism ⑄ “Zpiritz ar konztantly held above miz like deitiez, let miz peep how deities face chaos.” ⑄ Combat ⑄ “Bloodluzt iz ah givt; nub ah kurze. Anywayz, miz av kactuz green tu kalm down.” ⑄ Games ⑄ “It'z all vun and gamez till lat hit lat head on tuh way down.” ⑄ Hunting ⑄ “Miz ar zimple uruk doing zimple uruk tings... yub yub!” ⑄ Laws ⑄ “Azh muzt abide by tuh rules, otherwise azh will nevuh ve ah khanke tu break dem again.” OOC

Porkpie Grandaxe read yet another missive. His eyes burning red with exhaustion. So much literature for such a short day, he thought. But as he continued to read his eyes brightened. "WOODLAN' FRIEN'S! JUS' IMAGIN' ALL DA' FOOOOOOOD ONCE WEH BEAT PEEPS IN WAR!!! EVERYON WIL AV CELBERATION FEASTS AN OILL STEAL ET ALLLLL!!!!!!" At these words his belly rumbled. Time for another meal, perhaps.