helldiving

He can't be gay cause he is your father. Central Cee - Commitment Issues (Werew0lf) POP SMOKE - WELCOME TO THE PARTY (Milenkhov) Me and Werew0lf struggle with averting our personas from drifting away from the act of doing a subtle trolling. Waiting Werew0lf's ban out - waiting for his gaming laptop to make our crazy return upon the scene of Almaris. KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM Only the highest amounts of trolling come from me and Werew0lf in unision Thank you very much for asking a question that is serious unlike all the other meme ones that have been posted in this thread. Now, the optimum way to enjoy the role-play server is by making sure you know the difference between OOC and RP and ensuring that dramas or toxic enviroments plague mediums that shouldn't be related like the two stated above. You must also know the rules by heart, always knowing what you are allowed to do and not, alike what others can do to you and not, that way you ensure you can always help moderate or guide both old and new players to develop characters and narrative that is most appealing to a community in general and creates a toxicity-free enviroment for those that simply wish to come and have some fun after a long day or to escape most cruel and tormenting realities. Werew0lf is not allowing me to answer this question due to legal matters and charges against my persona from the indivual @Valaryon Early map Adria or Ves for Werew0lf - Empire of Man / Renatus during the war for me. Have you heard of Darth Milenkhov and Werew0lf the GODS..?

I'll put you in da bin binman amogos What about Werew0lf???????!?!??!??!??!?!?!?! The cow would chew the wood in da bin hrregh, bleurgh, BOOF I'm actually a nice guy I promise. I don't intend to stir the course of Lord of the Craft I love roleplaying I don't want to cause problems... Not quite, I'm not the imposter Because you shot Werew0lf in your drive by shooting. Memes aside, for Werew0lf it has been learning conjuration from D4NNA, for me it was meeting people who up to this day I consider close friends and family (werewolf deathed) I'm still finding such, Werew0lf says that u should lower ur tone I'm not running i'm kiting A pleasure to do yet another transaction with your persona. Yes I have, have you heard of Travis Scott? 🥴 Currently, the scariest man has returned to lord of vekraft, the other one is banned 😩

Adrian Leopold welcomes Joseph Clement upon his arrival from above.

The Prince of Vilachia found this rather intriguing, rather sus in some way. He kept the thoughts to his own, only crossing arms and shaking his head.

AMA After a long hiatus from Lord of the Craft, Werew0lf and I have decided to come back to our roots onto the server and play once more. Of course, Werew0lf is currently banned for 3 months (?), but this will be an AMA to ask us both any questions or inquire about specific subjects. I have been feeling pretty down recently due to some IRL issues, however I wish to return in order to talk to old friends, and experience the new server and its systems to its fullest in hopes of improving my mood, it really sucks to have one of my best friends banned currently, but at least we’re still holding on and keeping contact. If you have any questions or simply want to pop in and say hi or squash beef or grudges, go ahead and speak freely.

IGN: Milenkhov Character Name: Antonius Vilac

I will see you on the other side, friend.

men only have 4 moods: 1. bboon 2. bboon 3. bboon 4. bboon

The Prince of Vilachia agrees in fully. “This is why they hide in their nation. They have a disease!”

Discord: Milenko#9658 Skin Title: Simple Man Bid(s): $10

Mitnedronilnr sat within the crevices of hot magma and soot, exhuming ash from the depths of the volcanic waste; the Firelands remained evergrowing and persistent, and now drummed with warfare and bloodshed. The dragonkin leered in disgust, calling out towards the many brothers to his front: Eluitholnear, Thrictinoparic and Lath(bin)laden. “They must pick their penance wisely, or they shall die.” He commented plainly, a stream of smoke escaping his scaled-nostrils.

🥴

perfectly balanced, as all things should be

1.8 is not realistic how could 1 guy kill 10 people alone? 1.9 is the way to go, it has to be realistic, every man is an equal

“Nice attempt, gentlemen.” says a prince who could not understand what those fiends were persuing.

HIS SERENE HIGHNESS Antonius Martius, The Prince of Vilachia, Duke of Krajia, margrave of Styria, Lord of Vilacz smiles the sun’s smile.

ANTONIVS MARTIVS VILAC SMILES THE SUN SMILE, THERE WERE TIMES WHERE GALLEONS WERE BROUGHT DOWN BY HIS REMARKABLE FLEET, YET FOR WHAT REASON WOULD HE BESTOW SUCH HATRED UPON HIS FAMILIARS, NAY THIS WAS TIME FOR REJOICE.

SOLO REGISTRATION: Competitor’s Name: Lúmithil Competitor’s Age: 100 Username: Milenkhov

As the times begin to fall in the Crownlands, and war purges onward, it seems a figure of the past has made a reappearance, one of many past ventures, and various tales to have been told to the denizens of the lands he once graced. A missive, one floating with a mysterious aura, seemed to appear upon the steps of the Barony of Roussard, the only thing printed upon the back of the sealed envelope was “Winifred”. The letters looped, though with thought and eased without sloppiness, to show that there was no hurry to have had this letter sent away in urgency. “Dearest Winifred, My Beloved, I write this letter on an occasion that has come to my attention, to which I wish for you to forward this information, as my presence lacks. The truth is yet to be realized, and to which I continue to write to ease the minds of those who do not know of the word, the word I wish to spread. The truth is absent, and you may be misguided, though by mine own fault, and not the fault of your own. I had made a promise that I couldn’t fulfill to you, but a promise that I must now fulfill to the people that plague the Crownlands in masses. I have faithfully served under the Empire’s numbers, and from my youth, it was all I was able to know. In my younger years, you grow to become a person not of your own, but to seek the glory that the Crownlands promises to you, a promise forged, and soon forgotten after years of service and undying dedication to a cause I ever-so thought was imperative. Imperative for the people of my homeland, for you, my wife, and for the children we manifested to seek that same glory that I had obtained. To an eye of any regular peasant that roamed about the streets, or to the unnerved noble who wallows in a comfortable life, it wasn’t as comfortable for me, nor for my family, and perhaps for you, my dear Winifred, with the sudden vanishing of mine presence. I apologize, though I must speak of the faults that I hid from you and from our youthful children, who shouldn’t be plagued with my political matters. This is to you, and to whomever you present the information I’ve sealed away for years. It is known how the relations of Haense and the Empire have always been subject to scheming and plotting. It is known how there have been times, periods, where there has been uncertainty and unknowing, the instability of life deciding the weight by just a grain of wheat. It has been known, for time and time again, that the Kingdom of Haense and her King, and the Empire and her Emperor, have both woven unto different paths, ones that do not lead in the same direction of being as one united Empire, as they have said it to be. When the fall of Suffonia erupted, the immediate question for the Crownlands, and for Haense, was their sought greed for land. The manifesto to race and claim lands in their honor, become troublesome for Kingdoms that were meant to be united. Suffonian lands were prowled after like it was a hunt, Haense immediately pronouncing on a perfect opportunity, and so had the Crowlands, to which both were deemed successful. Yet, Haense wanted to be victorious, to gain the lands that Oren so pleased to claim for their own, offering deals behind closed doors, locked away in secrecy before it came to light that Haense wanted their share. Oren caught wind of the transpired events that Haense coordinated to obtain Suffonia land, and unto news that flew quickly, Oren striked a better deal, one which immediately gained the land that they craved like ravaging wolves. It was I, though, who partook in these nasty deeds, the deeds that slithered their way into my mind as a youth, and unknowing of any better, I had simply thought it was the best thing to do. I was sent as a diplomat of sorts to do the bidding that the Emperor didn’t wish to do, his hands not dirtied, yet mine were. Not only had I done the evil work that I thought was God’s own, I came back with my mind dirtied too, with the awful dealing I had done to rival with Haense, the Kingdom that is supposed to be amongst the Empire’s ranks, yet the Emperor feared of the issues that could have arisen. It made me question, only agony arose in my mind of what I had done. I laid awake for nights, rivaling in my own thoughts about the contradiction that withheld in past encounters and new. The hypocrisy that I was forced to partake in without knowing much of how I was partaking in it. I was clueless of what I had done, until I had done it, and to my dear Winifred, how it still plagues my mind, and allows for me to drink mercilessly to rid of the writhing thoughts that nip at each other. I recall, in my days of Athera, that I was called upon at the Siege of Petrus. I had to leave you, my Winifred, in the confines of our temporary home, and my anxiousness for survival pumped through my blood, the urgency to return was grand, yet I was risking much by traveling with the brigade of other soldiers that may have faced the fear of death, seeing it grip at their own lives, as it could have mine. The Young Crow attended our ranks, only but a boy King during these times of Athera. Showing an astounding braveness, but it all came to an abrupt halt when unknown forces possessed a wonk, and took within his grasp The Young Crow. A duel was ordered to be set in place, for a warrior to risk his own life to save that of the King’s. It was I, who was risking my life, but I risked much more than my life. There was something greater there, and it was you, Winifred, who ran through my thoughts whilst I made a quick decision. It was you who I was required to contemplate on, and yet I decided to risk you, and myself, for the King of Haense, The Youthful Crow. It was I, who took it upon myself, to see the greater good of the people of Haense, knowing that they needed their competent leader, and which I provided. This, stuck in my mind, as I had betrayed Haense in a brutal matter, without thinking twice, as I should’ve, though I was blinded by the loyalty of my peers in the Crowlands. I was programmed as a youth to function in such a society, and that society had dirtied my soul, to become a monster, a filth. After parchment and parchment of writing, yet still neatly done in readable cursive, it seemed to have a light drawing upon it. The sketch’s size was not small, yet rather large, and neatly done with the quill that was used to write the very letter that was presented to Lady Roussard. The depiction was a flower, the petals almost looking as if they were edged and spiked, like a crystal may look. The depiction, only for Winifred to know of. A certain flower that was kept between the Roussard pair. This Young Crow, Sigismund of Haense, has publicly displayed his discontent against the doings of the Emperor, and this distaste was known throughout many, sending ripples and spikes of hostility. The Emperor of Fool had slithered out of Haense nobility, manipulating the Kingdom as to where The Young Crow was unable to ennoble any of his subjects that he deemed worthy. All systems had to be approved and gone over by the Emperor, and this happened on a frequent basis. Peter III had disregarded Haense men of their culture, and tossed aside the Knights that earned their rightful title within Haense’s own ranks. These Knights were rarely seen for the work that they commenced, that they worked hard for as any other Crownland Knight worked toward, yet they were belittled, and transparent to their united hold of the Crownlands. As times near the recent, and shortly after my disappearance, I had time to contemplate, to spend time to myself, without the influence of the Crownlands, or of the Emperor. I was without guidance, and without a person to follow, as I should’ve been at a young age. I was a leader, and yet I followed like a sheep to shepherd. I was foolish for such, and as my absence grew longer, I still caught wind of multiple happenings within the walls of Oren. A wedding, as I had attended many prior, and had my own, though this wedding was of a friend near to mine heart. I was meant to attend, out of the duty that I had taken upon myself to clean my spirit, and to be a man of simplistic life. Edward Galbraith’s wedding was supposed to be serene; perhaps limpid as my own wedding had been, yet it was filled with malicious intent, and trust that slipped between my fingertips, yet I never knew I was holding it in my palms where it could fall so easily. I, Adrian of Roussard, A retired Commander of a Knightly Order, and all my service had turned into a sour taste for revenge from the people I had fought with, the people that I allowed to trust, yet the misguided it, and allowed it to veer into devilish deeds, the deeds that turned myself sour when I had to perform them. For moments, I saw myself in the poor soldiers of the ISA, that attacked me, upon visitation of the realm I once frequented. I was once these men, I had embodied the bidding and misguidance of Peter III, the man who should’ve been maintaining tranquility throughout his lands, and providing safety unto those who retired from long years of service to the throne. Yet, this service that I conducted was a wasted time of my youth, moving into my adulthood. It was worthless. To the end nears of my long-awaited letter, the missive that you, my dear Winifred, have spent days awaiting. I’ve received word of your solemn, and yet it reciprocates to me. Though, do understand I have a duty to make things right for you, and for those I’ve mistreated due to the insights and wants of Peter III. My path was wrongly chosen within the Crownlands and subject to the throne, but my path was surely intertwined with your own. Let it be known that I will free you from the masters that bind you, and free those who are still chained mercilessly, but yet don’t know of what binds them, or the source of the matter. Let it be known that this missive is a declaration to you, as my duties pursue me forward. I will see you again, whether it be months, years, it will eventually all end, to where I can finally find my tranquility once further, with you, Winifred. My deepest love and regards, My Dearest Winifred Josie Roussard With that, the words ended with the signature of Adrian Leopold, “The Road Warrior.”

zzz i sleep

as the chapter is unveiled, a lone swordsman dabs upon the initial premise, he keeps his wits about him and blinks towards the emperor of oren, the once garbed in red dons the black.

Device for the Succession I, Adrian Leopold Roussard, 1st Baron of Roussard, being of sound body and mind, do hereby publish and declare the following to be my Last Will and Testament as a Device for the Succession and Inheritance of my earthly property. In the event I am missing for a great period of time, I am to be presumed dead and my Last Will and Testament is to be carried out as if I no longer resided upon this mortal plane. I commend my soul into the hands of the all-loving GOD, and in the event of my death request I be buried on the acreage of mine own property: that is within the land of the Barony of Roussard. I charge Dame Franziska Vimmark with carrying out my will when I no longer reside here on this earth, thus she shall be henceforth referred to as Executrix, as proof of our near familial bond. Being without immediate kin after my wife’s departure, I call upon her to serve as my sister in vows if not by blood after the lifetime we have shared as family. To Franziska Vimmark, Executrix, etc, I bequeath my lands and property that she and her legal heirs may govern. Thus she and her legal heirs might style themselves as Reeve of Roussard and be charged with maintaining the quality and prosperity of that which I earned via leal and dedicated service to our shared Father in Spirit His Imperial Majesty Peter III Antony. In addition I ask humbly that her and her legal heirs style themselves as the House of Vimmark-Roussard in honor of the land that she will govern. Likewise, I charge Franziska Vimmark, Executrix, etc, to shelter and provide for my wife, Winnifred Roussard nee Byrne, and her household if she should return to the Bloodied Orphan of Helena, so that those that I love will not be left wanting. If my spouse does not survive me, I charge Franziska Vimmark with paying for the expenses of a funeral befitting the grand status of my wife, as well as creating a memorial garden upon the acreage of Roussard, that all those who enter my beloved land will remember her unending glory. I make no provisions for my children, living or deceased, trusting that my beloved spouse will be wise and prudent in caring for them and meeting their needs and requirements. To His Imperial Majesty Peter III Antony I do relinquish the title of Baron of Roussard, along with my undying thanks and gratitude for his kindness towards an aspirant bastard so many years ago. Only he may see fit to appoint a new Baron of Roussard to follow me. My remaining funds and personal property shall pass through the Executrix to be used for a funeral service for myself, as well as charity and the upkeep and maintenance of my lands which I did adore in life- that being the land of Roussard. With witness and being of sound mind, I hereby declare my will to be finished, and do require my Executrix to publish this legal document for probate upon my demise or presumed death in the case of my extended absence. Godfrey’s Triumph, 1774

hi sisters...