Statherian

"Yeah I'll take bans & lore infractions and will refuse to listen to staff" "Wdym I got banned"

A Mali'ker of great intellectual prowess grinned as the Elven conflict unfolded. He stood beside his two daughters, intently pondering over the consequences of the actions of the Uruk missive. "Who are the Malinorians to claim such an ancient title? They are not a state, but a pretentious pact of false Elven Unity. The 'thill are not with them, nor are most of the 'ame. Malinor was a singular state, not a collection of cities. Neither Fenn nor Nor'Asath are populated, so why do they even claim to be a bastion of Mali unity when half their states are deserted? A 'ker state of empty promises, an empty husk of shorter 'aheral and Celia'nor....the latter being so diverse claiming it to be a Mali state is offensive in its own right." Alyndel paused, his grin ever present as he was reminded of the olden days, when it was the Valah who went after eachother with a lust for blood. "If not for their false claims of ancient titles I wouldn't even be so against them.....but alas, the Mali will never change. Let us hope reason comes to all in this wretched war, and that no 'ker blood is spilled."

ON THE YL’ASATH A CALL TO THE LOST The name Yl’Asath is one that has known many trials and tribulations. After years of stagnation following the departure from the Stygian Hollow and the undoing of the bond forged with Clan Velulaei’onn, the Yl’Asath name will find purpose in this world once again. As dictated by the recent missive On The False Velulaei’onn, the Yl’Asath bloodline shall find a new purpose in this world. The fall of Renelia and the degeneracy that plagued the Stygian Hollow has led us to a point of great importance, and a point of no return. To secure the integrity of the bloodlines of Velulaei once and for all, the following reforms shall be brought upon Clan Yl’Asath: That those Yl’Asath who meet the conditions dictated in the edict On the False Velulaei’onn shall, upon approval by the Clan Patriarch, be able to carry the Velulaei’onn name themselves. That the Yl’Asath name is given to all blood descendants of the line of Velulaei, Renelia, and Renellic I who have not been confirmed to be deserving of the Velulaei’onn name. That Clan Yl’Asath falls under the leadership of the Patriarch of Clan Velulaei’onn, as well as falling under his protection. That any Yl’Asath who fail to contact the Patriarch shall be declared dead, and undeserving of either Clan name. That both my daughters are henceforth known as Velulaei’onn, as is their birthright. Furthermore shall this missive serve as a calling to those who have been left astray. The remaining Yl’Asath who have not found their way home yet should know that they have not been forgotten. I extend you all a hand, and a chance to redeem yourselves before the watchful gaze of the Daughter. BY HER LIGHT, Alyndel Velulaei'onn, Patriarch of Clan Velulaei'onn

Alyndel Velulaei'onn cracked a smirk as the notice passed him. Together with his fellow Velulaei'onn he read it over. He had never been a big fan of the Orcs, but this time seemed different. Perhaps it was time to seek out the Spirit-worshipping Uruk, for they seemed to share a vision with the head of Clan Velulaei'onn. "Let us hope the false unifiers will meet the fate they deserve." He pondered, before going on about his day.

Under the Light of the Moon; On False Velulaei'onn BORNE BY HER PALLID LIGHT Many continue to claim the auspices of our shared dream; the dream of Renelia. Yet how could they know Our dream, Her dream, having only lived Their nightmares? How could they know the fantasies of Renelia, having been borne mundane? I, At’ess, called Renellic III, called the Twin; by my blood born Aroen, called the Mortal, and Ailmar, called the Latter, remind us of our standards. The ranks of the Velulaei’onn are determined not by blood alone, but by the to our Pact. THOSE I HAVE NEVER KNOWN CANNOT BE MY BROTHERS. THOSE WITH WHOM I HAVE NEVER SHARED KARIN’ANTE CANNOT BE MY SISTERS. To be Velulaei’onn is to be born only of the blood of the Daughter and Her qualified Laureh’ker, in Her lands, and to have been given Luara’s Claw and a second name by Her naeri. No less may suffice. THE ASHEN RECORD, last among the Kerviran histories of Renelia, list twenty-eight in Her trueborn lineage from the time of Magara’lin to the end of Her Union. Of those, only the below we know yet to live; At’ess, called the Twin Alyndel, called Farharbor Aiyana, called the Stained Veris, called the Wrathful All others, by extension, are disqualified from Her halls. As in the times of Renelia, let them be called Yl’asath, and let them prove their worth beyond their Linoronn blood or their heretical birth. To those that would use Her name and legacy; return to our fold, and be reminded of our ways. Then, we might see. BY HER LIGHT, At’ess Velulaei’onn, once called Archon of Renelia as Renellic III Alyndel Velulaei'onn, Patriarch of Clan Velulaei'onn

A 'Ker of the line of Velulaei woke up from his slumber. He had been wandering aimlessly for years now, but perhaps that would soon come to an end. Alyndel took the letter and set out to find this Sabel Prince, for perhaps he could bring purpose to the Yl'Asath's life once more.

So who got unbanned?

Ailmar turns in his grave. Another blueberry skinned Dark Elf spits out his blueberry juice over his blueberry clothes, gets a heart attack and drops dead on the spot.

Jan Otto Kortrevich rolls in his grave.

A certain wandering, blueberry skinned Dark Elf could not help but agree with the Tresery who was all too familiar to him, even though he was nowhere near the particular Wood Elf. "Perhaps these supposed uniters should stop using titles of an era long behind them to make themselves seem more competent. Again the Ashen Folk find themselves reliying on others for survival, the Snow Elves out of all of them." He then crumpled up the notice and went back to wandering the vast woodlands of wherever he was wandering at that time. "They already admit to having the Orc Elves with them, all hope is truly lost." "Giving it a few years." He then concluded, smiling brightly.

Jan Otto Kortrevich rolls in his grave

Nozcon...

Jan Otto Kortrevich, watching over his family from the Seven Skies could do nothing but sigh. How he would have preferred his family to come together instead of challenge eachother for mere titles. "Ah well, not surprising." He then concluded, remembering Nikolai to be far more emotionally stable than Vladrik in his younger years.

mfw 2 emps really was the war to end all wars

THE END OF THE LINE The fall of a bull The Attenlund was known as a land of great troubles, one the Haeseni people had managed to tame. Many threats had loomed there, but the Highlanders of the North never seemed discouraged by them. House Kortrevich was no exception to this trend, having settled their new County within the hilly forests east of Karosgrad. Jerovitz as the Count had dubbed it, a proud holding sitting near the Orenian borderlands. It is where he had moved his family to after Krusev had fallen, and where he ushered in a new dawn for the family he cared about so dearly. The path back to the Haeseni capital was long, but familiar to Jan as well. The path brought him peace and gave him a place to think, to come to terms with all that had been happening around him. The Aulic Envoy began his journey to the capital, looking over his shoulder one last time to gaze upon Jerovitz. House Kortrevich had faced many losses over the years. Rickard, Viktor, Juliyus. They were all people he had looked up to, people he always admired. All he wanted was to make them proud and to not let his family down. Jan got his family a County, but he never felt like he did enough for them. He had little time to spend with his children or Tatiana, a regret he had always carried with him. The burden of being on the Aulic Council had begun to take its toll already, perhaps he should not have accepted Sigismund’s offer? He had no choice in the matter either way, rejecting such a position would only prove harmful for the family, or so Jan told himself. All he ever wanted was for his family to be respected once again like it had before, no matter the cost. Screaming at his children and wife, it was all a result of the weight on the Count’s shoulder. Jan patted himself down when he began his journey, realizing he had left his blade back home. Did it really matter? The way to Karosgrad was littered with settlements from the Haeseni nobility. It was by no means an abandoned path, and he had never encountered trouble along the way before. Jan was never a fighter either way, a weapon offered him little more than some confidence. The final lengths of the path home crossed the thick forests near Krusev, his old home. It had been quite some time since Jan had visited the ruins, it was better to not dwell on the now decade old battle any longer. Karosgrad was close now, a sense of relief coming to Jan as he was soon to see the red walls of the capital again. Jan came to a standstill, taking in the scenery in all its beauty. The chirping of birds, the gentle rustling of the branches never failed to bring him some peace. All of the peace and quiet soon ended however, with heavy thumping and the snapping of branches seemingly all around him. Jan had never been a fighter. He avoided joining the army like the plague, and wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his office. Even travelling to other nations without a Knight by his side worried him deeply. It is why he was always so hesitant to take his children on journeys to Urguan, no matter how often they nagged him for it. What if any harm would come to them because their father was unable to fight back? Jan would never find out, as his final breath was already drawn. Perhaps someone heard him, although the ruins of Krusev did not see many visitors. Blood gurgling screams were all that escaped the Count, whatever it was that struck him bringing its devastation down upon the Aulic Envoy. His fate had been sealed, if only he hadn’t stopped along the path. Would he ever be missed, or would he be replaced and forgotten like he had always feared would happen? Jan knew that this was the end, that he would never make it home ever again. He hoped Vladrik was ready, he hoped all of House Kortrevich would be safe. Vladrik, Viktoriya, Emelya, Vasilia and Niko, they would soon learn what had become of their father. Whoever the poor soul would be to stumble upon Jan Otto, it would be a scene engraved in their minds for years to come. Rickard, Viktor, Markus and Otto, Jan would finally be reunited with the many Patriarchs of House Kortrevich. His dearest cousin Walter and uncle Juliyus, all would be there to welcome him to his final destination, his true home. He had not disappointed his ancestors in the end, a thought that at long last brought the Count peace. Jan was not the one to reclaim the Margraviate of Korstadt as he had always dreamt, nor was he a perfect leader by any means. He knew however that he gave House Kortrevich a future. His children had many opportunities ahead of them, so long as they would take them. Jan Otto Kortrevich 'The Envoy' Born on the 20th of the Grand Harvest, 1798 in Krusev, Haense Died on the 9th of the First Seed, 1842 in Krusev, Haense

I know I haven't been the kindest to you in the past and we certainly had our differences to say the least @Treshure (part of that was me being a jaded **** at the time, I'll admit that I wasn't the nicest person to you). I can however say that I have nothing but respect for you in making this video. You come forth to start a conversation about the single most important issue that plagues this server, and is also part of the reason why I quit. It is a shame that a place which should be about providing people with a good time, an enjoyable narrative and a safe community has turned into a pit of degeneracy. Every single community has their bad people, which ever since joining in 2013 I could tell. The administration inherently has been unable to deal with things, because of how bureaucratic things have become. You have all my respect for this post Treshure, and I'm glad there are people like you making an effort to improve the community and its safety. See you in a month lotc forums @Nozoa back to Nozcon we go!

oh hi noz can't believe you're back omg I'm so glad you're back hi hello will I come back too now that you're back maybe I will omg!

Jan Otto Kortrevich was filled with childish excitement when his wife approached him about the pregnancy, the Count once again reminded that his sister had indeed taken the right path in life. He could not wait to meet his nephew, the future King of Haense. The loss of his grandfather and uncle had taken its toll upon him, but the prospect of his nephew's arrival gave him hope. "It can't be, ea have to see Emma." As he walked the Prikaz halls, he realized that for once it might be best not to see his sister in person. Jan turned around, deciding he would pen her a letter instead.

He had just left the Haeseni Prikaz, a meeting with the Aulic Council still fresh in his memory. When Jan descended the steps he was greeted by one of his servants, Tuvya of Jerovitz. He had served the House for decades now, and Jan knew him all too well. The news left the Count of shock. He knew his grandfather and great-uncle were old, but it was something he avoided thinking of too much. The last of a generation of Kortreviches had now passed, and a feeling of dread took control of Jan Otto. He never felt like he was doing his grandfather's legacy justice. Jan Otto Kortrevich left for Jerovitz along with Tuvya, as the Patriarchal crypt of Viktor had to be prepared. "Ea will make vy proud Hauchpapej, ea promise."