ThatFunkyBunch

I stopped all I was reading just to post this. holy Naztherak Pls. Pls 🙏, shamanism I beg of thee

This

Kiel twitches in the jungle. Remembering how it jumped over a wall in lumbridge. And told the Gold Lich he needed to repair his gate. Yet everyone still has something to say. It seems no one wanted to pass the gas. "No place like home." Remarks a fiend contently.

Torches burn through the night. Their volume increasing as days pass.

WARNING: Explicit Content "Will they see, will they hear? I'm eager to see. It really is better on this side of the fence." Spoke a fiend, labouring with the imps. @_Leyd

Copy pasta :> Atleast the lores will match

OLD: [S] Ritual of Identity - Non-combative- T5 - 4 Emotes NEW: [S] Ritual of Identity - Non-combative- T5 - 4 Emotes That's a lot of words. Not reading that? What was changed? Added the Redline: -Accepted Zar'ei CA's with an Seer MA lose the ability to perform this spell. Reasoning: I asked about disguises for demons like alchemy and the general agreement was it's not something LT want to see on the server, frankly I agree. However, currently if a Zar'ei reached T5 and got the second Seer Slot. They could fully transform if the Zar'ei hasn't been in-contact with staff about this matter. Thus, the above is presented to slap on a band-aid and keep that from happening to avoid confusion for others.

A fiend stares blankly at a piece of paper. "I'm going to need more soldiers. " "But this is exciting." "I want my bloody Naahk yellow men." In a jungle ruins, Kiel talks to itself.

I've successfully killed both the Dark Elves and Shamanism, does this count?

ɠαʅψչα [!] Letters go to members of the Legion, its allies, their allies, and others on the edges of the fray. On a fateful night, dark elven scouts clamber into stone tunnels and climb towering trees to survey the land. Soon after, the rattles march of metallic armor. Those that live nearby note an increase in the missing. Torches spark to life around the ruins of Vikelia in the dead of night. Winged beasts are seen coming in and out in droves. The air feels colder and colder by the passing night. Marching Orders: Vikelia. One of our own is a Prince of this land. As promised, brother. I return to you, what is yours. Rise forth legion. The bells toll. [!] A map is delivered with it. Construction efforts begin where we shall nestle ourselves. Your orders as this unfolds is to scout the jungle to the south and valley to the north and return with notable findings. Hold these jungles as I and others prepare the fortifications. Beyond your marching orders, the following for the local area is issued out. 1): Survey for minerals. Begin to uproot local buildings to recycle their material. 2): Corrupt the forest with Gatrovka 3): Cut down trees. 4): Establish locations for smaller outposts in the jungle, create roads and trenches. 5): Begin the forging of more weapons. Javelins, Crossbows. In addition to the creation of catapults and ballistas. 6): Alchemist are to begin created Abyssal Blight, Espitol Smog, Gas Masks, Null Arcana, smoke whispers, and blasting potions. If you lack the knowledge seek me, you will be informed. You have your orders. The Hand Acts. The Eye Watches. We are the Old Dark. Blessed be Gashadokuro, War in his name. Sincerely, Kiel Vukuduah. [OOC] This is a player-ran eventline by the Frostfire gang + co for the local area. Locals get priority above others. While the main build is set up, I wanted to open the jungle south of our planned location for interaction. Inviting the legion to wander around the area and the locals of the area. While it is an open event-site. I highly encourage the rest of the server to wait until the LOCALS put out a notice of the sort of the darkspawn moving into their lands. Discord Link https://discord.gg/wEXDRNWtj2

A creature takes its time in the Moz for once. Scouring the hells until fate drew it back to Mundas.

I can't believe LoTC is adding in one of my favorite junglers, Warwick

**** it it stays

[Prophecy] [!] Funny vision people get a heart wrenching vision. Your ears ring as you step out of the creaky wood of a wagon. The ivory walls of Númedil stand proud. Banners draft with the breeze. Most curious to you, is the small adventuring party that readies their supplies. An elf, a goblin, a dwarf, and a human. Unknown to even you at this time. They carry a horrid ring with them. One that just won’t shut up. You continue with your business. Life progresses as normal. Then comes the briskly step of the sandman as you drift to slumber. Your dreams have no moment of respite. Heat presses against you. Sweat runs down your forehead. Your eyes awaken to the peak of volcanic ash. Where magma boils above to the red wastes of the west. A goblin in a pancho wrestles with the dwarf. From this goblins hand is cast the accursed ring. Into the magma it goes. Under. You feel calm. Peace. Before you awaken to reality, years pass over the pool of magma. Before it suddenly begins to shift itself to the sides from its center. Revealed in its putrid glory, rises the beast of mockery. A speaking sword of Dracanium. With its bellowing cry, the land is in turmoil once again. “IIIIIIT’S JOHNY.” Dread fills you to your core. The One Quip will return, where, when? By what hands will it be wielded in its new horrid form? None are safe.