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About puffables

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    a fluffy little duckling

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  • Character Name
    Alaion Miravaris
  • Character Race
    High Elf (Mali'thill)

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  1. A SILENT EGRESS A certain breeze blustered through the Silver City that day. Finally released from the point of swords, the pale elf stepped through the doorway of the Dagre’sae Manor, a dust off of his just-before shackled wrists. His eyes took on a peculiar sheen, the forlorn, blank gaze of one in either utter disconnect from reality, or far too aware of the dreaded realism that surrounded them. For some time did he merely sit, sit and stare at the pillars of the Silver City, ears silenced to the distant shouting, the people busy in bustling spree about’; the elf found himself at an utter loss of words, mind shrouded in the rose-tinted memory of what once was. It seemed the only tint of rose in recent days was the threat of bloodshed which loomed over him. And there, he fell into a deep slumber of mind, though not of closed eyes, til drips of water like daggers did fall upon his brow. Rain wept from the skies above this early morning, the sun yet to truly rise, and the elf slowly shuffled towards his ‘home’ : though, in reality, it was not often that he took his rest in such an abode. Despite his prior vigour for such ideals of bountiful harvest and shining, washed-clean cihi after downpour, it seemed the only seeds sown that year in the Silver Fields were those of chaos, lacking in both sense and remorse. The destructive flood that he had so readily protested against only mere elven hours earlier had indeed come to its summit - the Silver City he once knew, that once was new, that once was his, filled with the anguished cries of those who claimed themselves Its people. A creak open of the manor door, the elf trailed in. He shifted to his room, a quiet, half-hearted murmur of a whistle. Yet - as sorrowfully as their owner - the small, white cat plodded into the room. The Silver Elf peered into his closet, a quiet sight emanating from parted lips. Silently combing through, mere rustles of the incredibly few items of clothing stored there trickled through his hands. Eventually, the elf lay eyes upon a certain fabric hung limply at the back. This, he curled into a roll, tucking beneath his arm. A second of such a nature joined it, of similar colouration, yet longer, a hood-like fold peeking out from the bundle. With this seen to, his frail, thin fingers curled around the creature which sat, with all the confusion an animal might muster, upon his terribly unused bed. The elf spoke in quiet shushing, whispers of cooing, as he only-half gracefully lowered her into his now mostly-empty satchel ; contents strewn about the bed. A final glance upon the room, his expression remained unchanged, yet his thoughts jumped back - a next destination solely in mind. The assumed ‘Laethezoid Cell’ had certainly done its work in splintering the blessed citizenry, splintering them from sense, diverging thoughts to force - it seemed the only ones lacking in tears were those who had stationed themselves as a faux-silver military, a crude contrast to the honourable Weeping Blades. And, at such a barracks of his comrades did he next find himself, the colourless elf running a fingertip down the side of a crimson banner - the Haelun’orian symbol, one ought to inspire pride and joy, printed in brilliant white upon it. Even this, now, seemed faded - yet, with a held mindset, he staunched himself from any further tears; it had been proven that such were no longer welcome within the home he used to know so well. In the silence of this dimmed morning, grey clouds looming above the similarly grey-seeming state, the elf saw no others in his passing. He looked to his prior office - he had been on the verge of vacating it prior, though for far different reasons than those that now came to call. Secured, as safe as an elf could hope in this room, he stripped his uniform and folded such to a degree of neatness likely in excess of what was needed; this, at least, had not changed. In its place, an old friend draped over his thin limbs - no longer in official service, there was no more uniform to be worn. A soft, simple crimson robe hung from his frame, the elf touching pale fingertips no longer masked by leathery gloves to his rather-gaunt cheeks - pale lips pursing as ever, though no sparkle of intrigue shone in his gaze. A careful snuff out of each candle, he’d douse the hearth, dropping a large ring of keys just atop the piled clothes. The second bundle was drawn from beneath his arm, a slow unfurl of a mahogany cloak. He curled it around him, wrapped with a tight, clutching squeeze, before loosening it - a simple tie of the ribbon which held against his neck to a bow, fastening the mantle in place. His crown yet remained unshrouded, pale blue iris’ flecked with nought at all. He left the darkened room; finally, it sat free of his presence. Cloak enveloping his thin figure, a feline-filled satchel slung across a narrow shoulder, he placed but a few last trinkets into the inner pockets of the cloak. Upon this matter only could he perhaps be accused of ‘stealing’; a singular dagger carefully stowed away, slipped into a pocket close to reach. The fine blade he once held had been taken away and, for the journey that he wished to embark upon, some form of protection he found to be a necessity. The elf left the barracks with no further touch, no further investigation of what had occurred. His frosted gaze changed not, as he slipped, at the creak of dawn, through the Silver Gates and out of the ‘Silver’ Walls - with each gaze, the foundations that he took part in lovingly placing seemed to lose their lustre. He reached the bottom of the lift - the Morvael Elevator, its true name, to him. In this act, in this step, did he most harshly restrain the urgent longing to glance back. A sharpened bite of his lip, the elfs gaze sparked for but a single moment - worried thoughts to the cared few left behind. Yet, he could only bid them silent farewell, a wish of a better future; he pleaded for their overcoming of this period, a hope that they might succeed where he had failed to do so, in restoring the Silver State. Such is how an elf and his cat, relevance dropped as swiftly as the pale elf’s priorly-appointed roles, departed the only city which they had truly ever known, at heart. Digits reached up, a wispy pinch of the scrunched fabric behind his neck to draw a scarlet hood over his head. The sun rose at the edge of the horizon. A hazy set of orbs peered upon the brilliant light. The smallest flickering hope of restoration kept stored in a sunken heart. The road, as the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya, he followed. And down the path of the unknown he went. [[ Haelun’or. You will be missed, til the day that I may return. Just wanted to wrap up this arc with this small narrative [ not a pk post !!] , and give my appreciation here for all. It’s been a good run, and I’m ever-thankful for all the people who made my experience here so very enjoyable, even though many of such have moved on for now also - the few who still remain, ily more than you could know Wish you guys the best going forth - Haelun’or has, and will always have, a place in my heart. Someday, I suppose I shall return - whether in weeks, months or years - though for now my journey takes me elsewhere. Much love. ~ puff ]]
  2. The Sohaer Alaion Miravaris signs the document.
  3. IN REGARDS TO ELHEIAL’THILLN issued 12th of the Amber Cold 1771 [[‘Haelun’or’, artwork by Biegeltoren]] The Silver Council of The Silver State of Haelun’or as of 12th of the Amber Cold 1771 Maheral: Acaele Lazul [[Acaele]] Sohaer: Alaion Miravaris [[puffables]] Maelunir: VACANT Annilerir: VACANT Okarir'tir: Elahern Aeth’sulier [[snoopie12]] Okarir'san: Evelon Telperion [[rwk0]] Okarir'lliran: Ikur Sullas [[MagicPastry]] Okarir’nor: Anethra Uradir [[SquakHawk]] Okarir'mali: Nuala Uradir [[Geminisole]] Okarir'tayna: Silvos Sythaerin [[MrSyth]] Okarir’maehr: Illyara Valarieth [[nerdypenguins]] Okarir’indor: Kinahen Athrilum [[grossmorale]] The Vow of Okariran Larihei, adont'sulier kae'haler Kae halere ne allim, atane nor'thilln Kae'leh okarir'lae maehr'sae Kae'leh diraar'lae hiylun Kae illere kae'tayna tilru'ehya ito Elhaelun'or Kae illere kae'sirame iheiuhii'ehya ay'Elmaheral Iyulonn kalim tenna kae ante - Larihei, bear witness to my vow I pledge no sin, no impurity to The Silver State I am the safeguardian of her progress I am the protector of her health I give my life and service to The Motherland I give my honor and breath to the Maheral From this day until my last maehr’sae hiylun’ehya
  4. A quiet office – one no longer belonging to the individual, in all honesty. Yet, by familiarity, it was (for the time being) his own. The pale figure sat behind the oaken desk. Yet, still? He was not. A tilt of iced gaze, flicked to the right – several stacks of variously-organised paperwork lingered like snow topping a mountain, near blocking his view forth. His thin, leather-gloved digits rapped in dissatisfaction against the desk, a slight purse of lips as he wracked his thoughts, reading over the lengthy parchment. Yet another sip of tea. Delicate digits shifted their tap to the side of a porcelain teacup, nails beneath leather muffled by such, a dull takk against the item. The tired elf rubbed any drowsiness from his lids, a gentle brush of lightly-forming bags ; it seemed many nights had been filled in this way. The lusciously honeyed concoction slipped down his throat, a calmed exhale followed only from a jittered shiver as the ‘thill continued on his work. The hearth continued to burn, a quiet crackle of endurance, its eyes flickering open and shut just as his did – yet, more tea was sure to fuel the quell of such, more wood beneath the pile. Tick. Tick. In the silence, who could guess how long might pas- A knock at the door. The Sohaer rose not from his seat then; only so much paperwork could be readily received with the joy that might be expected of one so soon pressed the title and duty. Besides - his hair was rather disarrayed from running fingers through it in idle dilemma. The image, of course, would be certain to upset. It mattered not – papers slid under the small crack beneath the large spruce door which guarded the place of somewhat tranquillity. He shifted from his seat, a slight stretch - a small, soundless yawn. The slow ‘click’ of metallic boot against the tiled floors only caused a further bat of the drapes which hung atop his pupils, a silence aside such formed – the near flames themselves in hold of breath. Even with brief scan, with a single glance to the note - such was not that which he had expected. By this, he was thrown awake. The internal curiosity of any Mali’thill overpowering in the sleep-deprived Sohaer, he'd lean down with vigour - taking up the parchment with quick grasp. A fast pace back to his desk, in rhythmic manner, he swiftly slumped himself back down to the cushioned hold of the chair. At last – chance to read, to peruse something new. However, anticipation leads not always to ecstasy. Sharpened expressions of interest fell. The drawn-up corners to his cheeks, the shimmer in his gaze – all would fall, a droop back to null. Incomprehensible, the elf would find it. His eyes darted up and down the page, hoping there was something at all he had missed, to redeem such a notice upon the dark, elven eve; for once, he hoped that his weariness had indeed caused him to misread and imagine. But ne. The paper remained. A featherlike fall back in his seat, languorously craning his neck upwards – eyes reaching to the roof – the Sohaer exhaled a few, quietly ragged breaths of.. laughter, of all things. A slight tremble, his hand reached for the somewhat newly-silvered ring – not of originality, you see, a mere copy of what once was, the prior lost and near surely irretrievable – and slid such down from his crown. Candlelight danced in its metallic sheen as he twirled the circlet through fingertips, a slow orbit. Red flecks scattered, dripping upon the desk and all that around – flecks of crystalline crimson light. A final turn, the elf faced the circlet – his thoughts come to conclusion. Pale blue iris’ of a Sohaer met a scarlet void. The elf peered in – an elf looking back, wry smile wide upon his features: scarlet-tinged tears dripping from his scarlet-tinged eyes. A coarse tone, the elf wept his words – though no more crystal droplets fell from those orbs, he wept nonetheless. And, his words wept onto paper – quill dripping in fountains of Silver ink, thoughts sprawled across the canvas of mind, til flushed unto the canvas of the world presented before him. “Silver, by the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya itself: this cannot be. The sheen of white ‘acal has glorified itself, rotting in the eyes, in the seized gaze of my citizenry. Merit, placed behind that of ill-warranted vengeance and scorn. Ambition toppled with unbridled greed, a step upon lliran in attempts to ascension – a failure, both crushed in the process. Logic sent away with unkempt words, with threat befitting of Bortu, Uruk – any but ‘thill. Progress halted, by means of misfortune past. Health, that of fellow Mali’thill, disrespected. Tarnished in both word and physicality. The Maheral – the one who Simply Is – their word disregarded. Disgraced, contended; both Maheral, and all Maheral who have come before. The Maheral simply is, the Maheral above all; such is cried by those with faux intent - yet, their emotion-driven acts prove their intent to remain faux, conscious or not are they of the fact – minds seized with the rot of white ‘acal. A hypocrisy manifesting in full form, taken root deeper than one could ever fathom. Mere silver-painted ‘acal holds its accursed deceit within. For the sanctity of Silver, I weep. For the individuals of Silver, I weep. For the Silver State, children of Silver, and all of Silver who have come before, I weep. And Larihei weeps, weeps for Silver, weeps for what is lost – but what is more, She who is most blessed weeps for the future. We weep for the ‘Silver’ State of maehr’sae hiylun’ehya.” And with this, copies skittered – that which was wept, now swept - spread upon wings of air through the silent Haelun’orian breeze.
  5. puffables


    farewell will be missed :,< freedom,,
  6. IN REGARDS TO ELILUMIRAN : 1769 Issued 6th of the Amber Cold, 1769 “Rise - rise - rise… maehr’sae hiylun’ehya shall release our full potential!” [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uIBp-eN4Ph4] The unknown. Long had Larihei’s children dared to venture beyond the conventional truth of reality, seeking solutions and answers to our trouble different from the lessers’ sword and shield. It was in the perfection of their mastery over the void which the Blessed Blooded made the dark come to light. In magical supremacy there was progress and health; vast knowledge and reliable security. The Mali'aheral had long praised those who followed intellectual pursuits. Therefore almost naturally they had gravitated towards the arcane arts. Power derived directly from intellect, it was obvious that the Mali'aheral would be attracted to such a proposition. The Ilumiran of The Silver State of Haelun’or as of 1769 Marailer Silvos Sythaerin [[MrSyth]] Amanaan Olrin Maehr’tehral [[Sorcerio]] Saevel Sythaerin [[Nozoa]] Evelon Telperion [[Rwk0]] Muriel Uradir [[Johann__]] Akalan Anethra Uradir [[squakhawk]] Ceruberr Asul’ailer [[CaptainSheepy]] Nuala Uradir [[Geminisole]] Iatrilemar Elervathar [[BrandNewKitten]] Iaria Elervathar [[Halsi]] Dimaethor Elervathar [[Ankan]] Nerithil Valarieth [[Iverach]] Sulii’ceru [[FiliusDei]] [[ If you are interested in joining the Ilumiran Order, or have any questions on such, please contact MrSythaerin#4018 on discord. ]] Further Info The Ilumiran Order: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/187678-the-ilumiran-–-the-magic-disciples-of-the-diarchy/ Arcane Fraternity: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/188969-the-eternal-college-the-ilumiran-order-arcane-fraternity/
  7. TO REOPEN SILVER GATES Issued 6th of the Amber Cold, 1769 The Silver Gates stand tall: to usher in lost lliran, to turn away the unworthy. Blessed Citizenry of the Silver State, good lliran across Arcas; times have been turbulent. That much is uncontestable - the gusts of each day carry across our bastion of Silver various changes, of various levels. Yet, amidst this all, our Silver Gates stand tall - the blessed Silver Walls watch over the lands below, an eternal grandeur present in their stabilising argent sheen. With blessed stability once more secured, with progress pressing onwards - we reopen our Silver Gates. The Silver State welcomes home its pure, wayward children. May the light of Larihei guide them back to the stronghold of elmaehr’sae hiylun’ehya. For those not of silver-blood, who yet hold scholarly sheen in glance - rejoice. The Silver State, ever a magnanimous people, remain resplendent in their unyielding generosity. A glimpse of silver might just be attainable for those who prove worthy to our critiquing Mali’thill eyes. With such, we would - of course - expect only the brightest to find themselves in our blessed bastion. Those of keenness in artistry, in literature and in progress. A basic understanding of the maehr’sae hiylun’ehya is only to be expected, mm? The Mali’thill hold a logical attitude in high regard; any who would seek passage to the sanctum of lustrous silver ought to present such to the best standard that one of non-‘aheral descent might be capable of. In final addition, the Silver State welcomes fruitful discussion with fellow intellectual states. We would invite such lliran to send word so that we might provide apt hospitality in receiving them; the bond of knowledge is one which holds much favour in the halls of the pure. Ever-pressing forth, the Mali’thill stand united and strong. maehr’sae hiylun’ehya. Signed, Sohaer, Alaion Miravaris Maheral, Acaele Lazul
  8. so goOOD, insanely quick receival and vv easy to work with 11/10 would recommend !! B))
  9. irl first bro, goodluck in all – I wish i had the same ability but alas, I am addicted to this game,,,, will miss u while u gon, expect pvp pings bestgoon
  10. Welcome to the next event put on by the Community Team: The Labyrinth The Labyrinth is a large maze filled with puzzles, traps and treasure. A chain of mazes, each one going forth gets more difficult - though with risk there is always reward. Will you stop after the first section, pocket your findings and leave? Or will you risk it all for something more and continue on. The choice is yours. Some say those who go in… never come back out. [ THIS EVENT SHALL RUN FROM 16/5/2020 TO THE END OF THE 18/5/2020 ] Instructions To begin the maze, you must gather a team of 2 - 4 (the Labyrinth must be attempted as a team and cannot be done solo) then make your way to the Cloud Temple where you make a /creq asking to attempt the Labyrinth. After that, the CT handling your request will give you further instruction. However there are some important rules you should be aware of; 1. If you die (a very real possibility) in the Labyrinth all your prizes are forfeited. 2. Any use of exploits in the Labyrinth will result in failure and any earned prizes will be forfeited. 3. You will only have one attempt at the Labyrinth, ever for the duration of the event. 4. Your team may escape at a checkpoint with the current prizes your team may have, or they may continue with the potential to earn more rewards; but risking death and total failure even more. 5. You must enter the Labyrinth with an empty inventory. As you will lose everything if you die in the Labyrinth. 6. There is a time limit of ONE HOUR. Should you fail to exit the Labyrinth in that time, you are considered to have LOST - all your shiny collected bits will be GONE.. [[PREWARNING : do be aware that only ONE group will be able to participate at a time, so there may be a wait if many creqs are made!]] Special thanks to the Community Events Team for working on this project!
  11. A PLEA FOR PROGRESS - 1768 - Puerith karinte u’kente Alaion Miravaris Blessed Citizenry of the Silver State. In recent times, one might have noticed the presence of a certain strange individual within elcihi’thilln. Orange-hued skin, green hair, no blood of the same nature as ours. One might have questioned such - questioned the presence of this creature, this oddity. However, I wish to assure you of the positive intent of this arrangement - this creature claims to have been once one of our own. Through means unknown to us, unknown to them - a strange sort of curse, perhaps disease, has fallen upon them. A transformation into something near resembling the qualities of a plant - likely druidic influence is at play, to bring harm to a once-pure llir. Here, a tragedy presents itself to us. Here, a golden opportunity presents itself to us. And so, lliran - we cannot sit idly by as a pure Mali’thill falls ill. In case such an ailment as this begins to spread - I have heard rumors of others with similar conditions already - we must be prepared. Elmaehr’sae hiylun’ehya invites - ne, it demands - for us to pursue research into this issue. We must pick up quills, hypothesise, write. We must query, we must research, we must investigate. We must test, experiment - plan. And we must find answers, lliran. Therefore, I offer this. I plead for all Mali’thill with an idea in mind, all those who wish for PROGRESS, to submit their proposed experiments utilising the attached form. As the overseer of such, the test subject lying under my care, I have set out some basic requirements and regulations to ensure the validity and logic of our testing - as, of course, experiments ought to be done in a proper manner to achieve the correct and logical results. I implore you, mali’thill; Ay’maehr’sae hiylun’ehya, puerir. Signed, A. Miravaris, Okarir’tir, A fellow uhierir’maehr to you all. RULES FOR EXPERIMENTS: - Preferably will not simply kill the plant - we’ve many experiments to do, and a Mali to cure, you know. - Nothing excessively graphic or such. - Unique-! If someone has submitted the same idea, please simply ask to tag onto their experiment soon, rather than submit the same again. - Possible and Logical. If your experiment has no logic or purpose in gaining utile knowledge, it is likely to be denied. - Please do not eat my dryad-plant test-subject, or use it for any food/drink/consumption-based purpose. Just.. please. FORMAT OF EXPERIMENT SUBMISSIONS: [[OOC]] mcname: discord: timezone: [[IC]] Name: Experiment Name: Hypothesis: Prediction: Number of Lab Assistants Needed (excluding the test subject and the overseer): Equipment Needed: Method:
  12. get well soon we’re all here for you, and I hope you return in good health after fighting off this terrible virus
  13. nice rewrite! very cool – would love to see this magic make a return ? I was forced to write this yes..
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