Laeonathan

thats a massive skill issue on the player side in my opinion Attach me to any terrain and send me to a build server. I am ready.

[OOC: This is a private letter. Those who know, know. Crazy, isn't it?]

As an Eshtaelite your character will likely face some raises eyebrows whereever she goes. Generally I'd suspect Norland and Koyo-Kuni would be most welcoming. Something I'd advice you: As a neutral character you can currently just easily travel around, and simply have her befriend other characters. Finding a group in RP is far more fullfilling, for me at least. With /realm activity you can see what places are active!

"It's ay'Celia'nor!" Commented Raziel.

"The false Celia'nors long list of wrong grows!" Raziel laughs, eating popcorn.

"Yeah! How dare Haense seek support from Norland to attack Veletz- I mean, uh - the Church seek support to attack Haense... uh- ah... Hmmm. Oh right! Both were excommunicated at the time." Commented Raziel.

"Ivarielle would certainly hate to see what has become of her realm," Raziel agreed with Valindra. "Musin nobility..." He grumbled again.

"What am I to say, other than he is right?" - "For years I have lamented the state of the Starland. I have taught its traditions - but despite this, we have turned from proud warriors and lorekeepers... to fools." Raziel lamented once more.

Madness The depths below Luci’lin ☽ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ✯ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ☾ ☽ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ✯ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ☾ Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Raziel’s hammer hit the metal several times, and the echoes could be heard above and within the expansive underground workshop of this Talonnii. Small golems hurry around him gathering metal and stones of all kinds. “Nobility consisting of literal rats,” The Father of the Second Principality grumbled. What would she think about it, he wondered? Expectantly, he turned to one of his golems as if it could answer for her. But of course, the Golem could not answer. After all, it was not even sentient. Usually, he would use his magical skills to form the metal. But he used a hammer and chisel today, for both the stone and the metal, he used raw physical strength. Nothing he really possessed anyway, after all he was a weak mage. But his anger began consuming him; he knew that all too well, and it was the proper way to let some steam off. He hoped it would cool his frustrations. Why did they even go for all this trouble? Thunk, thunk, thunk. Again, his hammer fell on the metal. “Elven Lords marrying human peasants,” his next accusation was cast towards the metal. The next strikes with his hammer were far more imprecise than they should have been. The Golem core he was crafting was far too cool by now anyway, to be shaped properly. He realized that far too late. Once he did it it is best to move the metal into the heat of the flame, to let it get that perfect red to orange glow. Thunk, thunk, thunk. He shifted his focus back to his smithing, and progress soon paid off. The Servitor’s core was shaped at last, even if hammered in violently. With arcane precision, he finished the far-too-rough edges to ensure the sigils would have the perfect shape. He washed off the sweat from his forehead and stepped outside. Had the war Anorhil had talked about started yet? He could not tell. At least it had not advanced to Celia’nor yet, he would have noticed that. He opened his news box, nothing was in there anyway - besides a letter of Jarad he had quickly stuffed back in there. The audacity Jarad had, he thought. What did he pay several thousand Mina for? What did he serve for his entire life? What did he found the winery for, if not to restore the Ibarellan dynasty? Not for some irrelevant newcomer to ask him to pay taxes, that was for certain. His answer to the letter was simple and factual. He was tax-exempt after all. A simple, but sufficient gift for he had given up the rule willingly to restore the de jure dynasty. What would’ve happened if he had crowned himself? After all, he has had two opportunities for it. But he only laughed. His Royal Highness, Prince Raziel of Celia’nor? By the Stars, no. He hated that sound as much as the thought of betraying her family. After all, Ivarielle had given him nearly everything. Or at least, she had taught him everything, to his knowledge at least. Her philosophy. How an elf should behave. Even what eye colors would indicate an impure, to her mind. Was he growing too old and far too proud? Raziel could not tell. But he had not asked for much, had he not? His own land to be untouched and to stay untaxed? He did not take more than he had when he gave Celia’lin to Illyria. No, he was in the right there, surely. Was it meant to be an insult? Or maybe Jarad was just too uninformed? He waved off, letting that man no longer distract him. He stepped a bit further outside, and the sun quickly cast its rays into his face. He was not used to it, and it took a few seconds for him to accommodate the sunlight. He looked around for any missus or likes that would indicate the beginning of the war. He suddenly remembered that it had started already, but so far, it was only Númendil and the Papal States retaliating against the invasion of Haeseni Mercenaries. Only now, after reading up a bit on what was pinned on the notice board, he realized that the whole situation had escalated into a continent-spanning conflict. It appeared the old Celia’norian allies would get revenge for Winburgh and Breakwater. To this day, he was upset about abandoning those he had fought alongside since his childhood. But he stayed silent on the matter regardless. “TRANSGRESSIONS OF THE CURIA,” He read loudly, already starting to laugh. Why did they have to capitalize everything? He just knew this was the one. But surprisingly, there were far more names on the missive than he had expected. Haense did not care when Aaun was turned into the Papal States. But now states had bonded together to defend those who had not cared to defend them. Ironic. And Celia’nor, too. So it was true, they had joined Haense’s failed invasion attempt. Could they turn the tides? Skimming the other missives, he soon realized that the other faction had grown significantly as well. His friends, Valindra, Anorhil, and Callahan were fighting his Celianorian people. Because they decided to defend the aggression of Haense. A loud sigh escaped him. But in the end, he stumbled over a few lines. “The Puppeteering of Cauróst & Defense of House Nullivari,” At least it wasn’t capitalized. What nonsense, he thought. Again, he began moving inwards, locking the door behind himself. They knew just as well as he that those were far more Ibarellan than Nullivari, by Celianorian customs - even if they did call themselves Ílumrin. Falsely claimed titles and other idiocy. The defamation of one’s own history and family for the gain of power. Oh, how far they had fallen, he thought. But in the end, one thing caught his attention. One thing that was the last drop of water that would bring his barrel to overflow. “Lineal Descendant of the Silver Phoenix?” Had he missed something, and had her mother Illyria married her cousin? Unlikely. Or maybe Iryne had lied about her parents? That made no sense either. Why would she suddenly be of Ivarielle’s line and not Illarion's? Or did the word lineal get a new meaning while he was in the depths of this workshop? Was she not the opposite of exactly that? He could not take it anymore, he tossed away the missive and went back to his workshop. Once more, the hammers fell onto the anvil. Thunk, thunk, thunk. But one question remained on his mind: Had everyone in Celia’nor gone mad, or was it just him? ☽ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ✯ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ☾

"The son of Húrin is of Ibarellan and Nullivari blood - and was it not us who supported his claim as High Prince of Malin'or? Must you denounce our own kin now, for political gain?" Pondered the Father of the Second Principality of Celia'nor. Raziel sighed, "But I fear the truth does not serve our narrative too well."

"Revenge for Grommash!" - "Grizh for Grizh!" Exclaimed an ancient Raguk; his arms may be growing frail what is seldom for any of his kind. But he would continue to fight, until his end. Stargush awaits him. But again, he was denied entry today.

[!] This missive can be found sent and pinned in all allied states of Cauróst. A specially decorated one was pinned right onto the Throne of Cauróst. ___________________________ ɮʊʊᵲɛȶȶαӄ¤ռ¤, ȶᵲ¤չɛȶʊʅɛ-ʊɦռ¤ The Opening of the Ramasarian Underdark ♫ ♩ ♬♩ ♫ └─────────────────┘ ȶhe sound of pickaxes digging away beneath Cauróst, the sound of progress. Tirelessly they worked, many Maehrzh exhausted from their excavations. The plans had been done for a while, but the real work had just started. Days, weeks and months went by. What seemed like an impossible task at first, had ended far more quickly than any of them could have dreamt of. Together they stood at the entrance to the underdark, together they knew, this was the start of something great. TO CELEBRATE Even in times of political uncertainty, we, the representatives of the Ramasarian Company feel the need to celebrate this joyous occasion, the opening of the Ramasarian Underdark. Our main spectacle will be the RAMASARIAN WRESTLING. For this, two opponents face each other on a small platform above the lake and wrestle until their opponent is either thrown into the waters or knocked out. A prize of 100 Mina will be given to the winner. A painting of the Underdark, by the Maehr Neia. Aside from the wrestling, stories shall be told, drinks shall be drunken and many ordinary games be hosted. We are more then welcome to see potential trading partners offer us deals. ¤ӄɛᵲψɱα-ʋɛɦɱ ʊɦʋ ʅψɛ¤ʅα αɛȶɦ ӄᵲʊɦʂ¤ ʅʅψɛ ȶαʅʊɦռ ψ¤ӄɛᵲψɱα ʊɦʋ ȶαʅʊɦռψ ʋɛʅ’¤ɮʋ, ¤ӄɛᵲψɱα-ʋɛʅʊᵲψռα ʊɦʋ ʅʅψɛ-ᵲαɱαʂαᵲʋ¤ȶɛʅ,, ¤ӄαᵲψᵲ ʊɦʋ ʅψhռ-ӄɛᵲʊӄչɦɛʅ ¤ӄɛᵲψɱα-ӄɛᵲ¤ӄψᵲ ʊɦʋ ʅψɛ¤ʅα αɛȶɦ ӄᵲʊɦʂ¤ ʅʅψɛ ¤ӄɛᵲψɱα-¤ӄαᵲψᵲ ʊɦʋ ʅψɛ¤ʅα αɛȶɦ ӄᵲʊɦʂ¤ ʅʅψɛ [OOC: Sunday 23rd of March, 3 PM EST. Entrance is at 2040 | 27 | 1100]

The Celianorian Lord sat in his basements as the news of the attacks of Haense and the subsequent defense of the Pontiff reached him. Raziel Amethil turned upwards, taking a close look. "And so it begins. My best luck to you, Anorhil- and whoever represents Callahan, currently. Haense had it coming since they consorted with the Lich and... had a Dark Mage as a King a century ago. Creator bless you, and may Haense repent," He spoke to his servitor Golem before returning to instructing the work to continue.

artificery is fun rp

"This is the third attempt of Haense trying to create an Empire in my life while not having the courage to call it such," Noted the old Adrian Priest Vasyl. "Let us see where this will lead.."

it's been more than 9, Mori

i love the caves

An ancient Euler, screams in his Stonen prison. More than 300 years it has been, but somehow, reading the name Carolustadt brought back memories to the undead form. They haunted him, once more. And he had only one question: "Freaks, why invoke this name?"

Istrán looked downward at what commenced below those waves from the crow's nest of the ship. He saw a new beginning for his people growing unity and much more. They talked with the High Prince, yes, and an offer was made, a kind one. No other realm of the elves had ever showed him such gratitude. Greatness was upon both the Maehrzh and the Caurósi, so Istrán hoped.

you gonna make a dark elf?

hey do you wanna roleplay with me on your... d- da- dark elf?