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About Reece742

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    Newly Spawned
  • Birthday 08/17/2000

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    Cave Dwarf

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  1. So it’s about time I did one of these. I am leaving LOTC and I’m not going to look back. But before I go I want to make a few key points made in hopes of things changing for the better. I’ll save you all of the long walls of text and get straight to the point. When I first joined this server I was amazed by how in depth everything was, everywhere I looked there was new mechanics and new things to be learned, I joined the Curon Ursus and made a small name for myself, after which I learned that Humans are incredibly toxic. I got into several altercations in which despite the actions being taken made sense, a moderator would come along and tell us to just void the encounter as a solution. This happened over, and over, and over, and over. It got to the point where I had only been a month and a half into the server and was already about to leave. Then I met Mickaelhz. He gave me one of the best opportunities I had on the server, he let me play a Dwarf, no, he let me PLAY properly, with the features implemented by RP and PVP being used properly. While I admit my character was quite a meme at a lot of times, emoting having swamp ass and clapping ass cheeks, I still got the chance to experience wholesome RP, cooking, smithing, battle, and life in general. Even something as simple as sitting at a bar and talking to a friend of the persona was entertaining because you never knew where it could go. I got to learn and better myself in PVP, something I was absolute GARBAGE at. He taught me about lore and RP that wasn’t even on the wiki, such as the history of Ireheart traditions in game, he took me under his wing and showed me the good in this server. For all intents and purposes, that experience goes toe to toe with the most fun times I’ve had playing minecraft, ever. For that, I commend the Irehearts as being THE most rich clan in terms of what it has to offer, and I urge any new dwarves just starting out to try them first. While other clans like the Starbreakers have deep rooted history and facts, and the Goldhands have money and positions of power, the Irehearts have fully fleshed out trials, a sense of progression and people there to assure you and make you feel like you are accomplishing something. I then went back and forth between Human and Dwarf RP, with a bit of Olog RP on the side. Things weren’t as fun anymore when I stopped committing myself to the Dwarves. I found the Orcs to be constantly fighting among themselves, I found the Humans always dull and bland, offering nothing more than people sitting in a throne room or court room and hanging around taverns. My Olog was mildly entertaining in the idea that it was a self sustaining source of RP that could go anywhere and do nearly anything based on the premise that it just could. I endured so many toxic encounters that it left a bitter taste in my mouth, I couldn’t taste anything other than the hate from people who wanted to ruin the experience for the other so they could gain and the other would submit to them. Instead of it being a two way street, it was a one way street. Either one person kneels before the other and lets them do what they want, or a moderator will simply come in and void the situation, causing both to lose. It became so toxic in fact, that even as an Olog versus one Human in their early twenties, I would simply do PVP default because it was less toxic than trying to explain to them the reason why in almost every scenario like that the Olog would easily overpower the Human. Even my source of RP from the Olog was ruined by people who simply didn’t want to cooperate because they had nothing to gain from it. Rather than respecting the health and mechanics of the server, they strongarmed their way around any situation that dare stood in their way. The screenshots that are below are going to be proof of my encounters, to show that I am not talking out of my ass. I genuinely did enjoy the good times I had here, and I thank each and every one of you that let me have that fun, but now I must go, for my own health. Goodbye. ^^ Context for this one is an Olog trying to lift a gate. You shouldnt need to provide evidence to back up the fact that an Olog can lift heavy things, but the situation was resolved by staff pointing out that Ologs were no longer able to lift gates as a game mechanic. However this argument still stood. Ologs can weigh up to one ton and be up to ten feet tall, a mixture of muscle and fat that you have to apply to play, nobody should ever have to provide evidence that an Olog of all things can preform a task like that in an RP sense.
  2. The Key to Coexistence [Music] “Sorry, but these Monstrosities aren’t welcome here.” Spoke one voice, “See to it that this Abomination is removed from here!” echoed another. “Orcs aren’t allowed to join the ISA, let alone Ologs.” came another. It seemed that no matter where Slog’s mind wandered he couldn’t escape the reality of it, they all hated him. He put his life on the line, he saved two humans and a child, he gave people laughs and large hugs, he was happy for all intents and purposes. He couldn’t understand why his heart was full of pain, as food was no longer the only thing he yearned for. For most of his life he was fed scraps and leftovers, left to sleep on dirt mounds in the heat of Krugmar. He was nothing. When he had arrived at Oren he learned the comfort of made beds, the pleasure of a warm meal in his tummy which was crafted with care and taste in mind. He learned of the great GOD of the land, the one who made all food in the world. But even then he wasn’t complete, not until he felt a love for someone rather than something. For him that person was Mariana Dubois. Although he didn’t fully comprehend the concept of a higher being such as GOD, or racked up debt by putting all his food on a tab since he saw someone say it and get free food, there was one thing the giant understood. Love. As the gentleman in front of him explained that he was no longer permitted in the city, the Olog stormed off into a nearby shop nearly overflowing with these emotions that he couldn’t understand. It was all too complicated for him, the idea of joy, happiness, grief, and all other basic feeling with which he was unfamiliar. His heart ached with a metaphorical pain that could never be accomplished by any arrow or blade, it was the pain of never being able to see his friends again after being shown what true happiness was, life beyond eating food and fighting for the Orcs. He wanted to belong, he wanted to be free like the others around him. He wanted more to his feeble life. As his thoughts had finished racing he realized his body had already made its decision as the blood of raging war had coursed through his veins. He stood in the shaggy pawn shop holding a lumber axe, and donning armor made of junk and scraps. His heart went numb as the soldiers outside kept insisting to Mariana that he must leave. He could feel the blood pumping to his eyes, it whispering dark and evil things. “You’ll never see her again.” Whispered one. “ZLOG HAZ ENUF! ZLOG ZHOW LATZ MONZTER!” He screamed as his emotional blood rage consumed him. Screams echoed as he saw a his carnage began with a massive dent in the wall where his fist rested. He stormed out of the shop with the intent to kill, guards now surrounding him and taking formation with their swords drawn and two on their steeds. He was now beyond the point of return. “Why would anyone love a disgusting creature like you, you’re made for war and nothing else.” It spoke again, prodding at his conscious as if to lure him to the inevitable. He swung wildly, first at the horses, then to Captain Peter of the ISA. He landed a blow strong enough to shatter the man’s guard and force him onto his knees, the Captain wheezing as the very air was knocked out of him. Slog recoiled as the man he spoke to the day prior, the man who did not hate Orcs like the others, the man he held with respect for doing the right thing was now kneeling before the monster he became. Impressive as it was that the man was still able to move after being hit with such a blow, he stalled. Swords hacked off chunks of his hide and buried into his muscle, but he felt none of it. The pain in his heart was so great that not even a great sword could measure up. He turned to the nearest person and buried the lumber axe in his shoulder, nearly dismembering him, but they still stood, the collective force of the humans proving to be stronger as they stood together as one functioning organism to take him down. He was smacked by blow after blow, even a steed ramming him into the shelves of the shop he exited from, but none of it phased him. None of it could reach him. "They aren't your friends, they wanted you dead from the start." Whispered another. He finally felt something, not blades, nor arrows, nor fear. He felt cold. A cold liquid dripping down his back, and a sharp pain protruding through his spine. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t move his legs or arms. He panned his eyes around seeing men, women, and children all cowering in fear from what he had done. Men with swords, people who he once called friends were now filled with the intent to kill, and he could do nothing more to stop them as a metal spike from the building he had damaged impaled him in his lower spine. Among the crowd stood Mariana, he saw her silently screaming for them to stop, but he knew it was too late. He knew the damage had been done, and the corruption had won. “Zlog j-jus...” He grumbled, his vision beginning to fade after all that he had done. “Zlog wanu b-be luvd... Zl...” ”Don’t you get it, you big baby? Nobody ever loved you, nor will any God accept you.” It spoke for the last time, the secrets of war finally vanishing from his mind. “Zlog z-zo kold...” He muttered, his final breath taken. Although the soldiers had won the battle, Slog had won the war. His death would go to be a reminder of the corruption that banished him despite his overwhelmingly large heart of gold, despite his innocence the laws had mandated his destruction from the get go. His death would prove how little his efforts to be a good person and live comfortably meant to those in the seat of power. His death, would be the Key to Coexistence.
  3. Soft and sullen, the lavender sky housed a brilliant orange sunset bathing alone for all to see across the land of Arcas. Cattails swayed slightly at the nearby river edge, only their faded dull color distinguishing them from the tall grass entangled with their stalks. Dragonflies whizzed around just as stars began to penetrate the sky's haze, the dawn of twilight summoning a cacophony of cricket chirps for miles and miles in the expanse of the wildlands. There, in this serene scene, sat an elderly couple on a shaggy picnic cloth woven from yarn. The two dwarves as aged as some of the pricks of dim light that flood a night sky. Her fair yet wrinkly hand rested on his thigh as his arm pulled her to his shoulder, their body heat splitting the cool crisp air of the approaching night. Under the watchful gaze of hundreds of stars that peered into the valley they resided in, she finally broke the neverending silence. "I don' fink ah evah wannu leave t'is spot." Her weak and ancient voice whispered. "Aye, nei ef ah 'ave yu by me side." He replied, his gaze refusing to move off of the sky as more and more stars began to loom over them with the fading sunlight. "Cheeseh as alwehs are ye?" She chuckled lightly. "Nae 'ave ah choic', wus alwehs ah pain en me arse tu woo ye any'ow." He said after a slightly exaggerated sigh. In his eyes he beheld thousands of stars, and thinking to himself he just couldn't fathom how, after everything the two of them had been through, they got a perfect ending like this. "Taht twinkl' en yur eye, et's loike ah child yeh? Are yu lost en all o' dem pretteh stars?" She teased, trying to keep their conversation going. "All o' tese twinklin' gems..." He paused, his eye catching a shooting star streaking across the sky. "...Ahn non' o' tem ar moar beautifol t'an yu." He said finally turning his big blue eyes towards her. For a moment her heart began to skip, her mind in bliss and her body swaddled in emotional roses before she retorted. "Ye dahft ***** yu! Ahm as old ahs ah fock'n brick ahn yur still tryen so 'ard to charm meh!" She laughed, letting out a small snort as she was hardly able to contain herself. "Aye, et reminds meh ov w'en we wer young. Ets somfin t'at can nevehr gro' old." He said pulling close to his warm chest in a heartfelt embrace. Together they watched the moon fly high through the sky at a snails pace, their hearts adrift like the celestial bodies. Behind the pair stood a lone weathered cottage with the fireplace smoking out the chimney. In the window stood a young and stout beardling with scrappy clothes, his ambition swelling as he washed the dishes and let his mind wander. He wondered to himself how far his family name could go if they went into business selling their jelly, wines, and cheeses. Maybe if he could find himself a wife he could spread the family name to the far reaches of the land, he could even achieve clan status. But even that was high hopes for the likes of him. Stepping outside for some air, he heard his parents conversing distantly under the grand abyss that was filled with starlight. "Yu two 'avin fun out t'ere?" His gruff voice echoed through the landscape as he approached. "Aye! Get yur arse o'er here, make t'is ah famileh moment!" She replied enthusiastically. The beardling knelt beside his mother and father in the grass behind them and looked up into the chasm of space. "Nae even ta sight o' Dungrimm guiden yu tu teh end es gud as t'is. Et's loike sparks flyen off o' Yemekar's anvil o' stars." He remarked in slight awe of it all. "Nei ah bett'r place fur teh Stonevine famileh tu set up busines, right?" Replied the Father. "Wait yu mean were gonnah-" The beardling was cut short by the expression his father wore. A look of determination that already gave him the answer he was looking for. The family dream would finally be realised. The Stonevine Vinyard, nestled in the Cottage of the Valley.
  4. I was informed by ST staff earlier today that it doesnt exist yet.
  5. Description A basic spring consists of a steel wire which has been bent around into a helical or coiled shape using methods either done by hand or forged into said shape. In order to achieve spring quality steel, one must create quenched and tempered steel or any variant as strong or stronger than the above mentioned quality of steel. By strengthening the steel, one may make it resilient enough to bend and then “spring” back into its original shape with a force that varies dependent on the stiffness of the steel as well as the thickness of the steel. Because springs wear out easily, they may have a few uses before they begin to buckle from the pressure of repeatedly compressed and decompressed, however this negative would likely be outweighed by the many more positive applications of this invention. The simple explanation for how a spring functions is that when force is applied to it, it will throw some of said force back out once the compressing outside pressure is released. Creating springs from other metals could be considered, but is likely impossible without the usage of alloys. Unfortunately, due to the limitations in the size of tools and technology, the smallest effective size of a spring possible of being made would be little under an inch tall and half an inch in width. Capabilities Whilst the humble spring has a plethora of potential applications, there are a limited number of practical uses that the basic spring can be used for. By attempting to create a spring out of a mundane steel, one might find they have made what is known as a slinky. Due to the far lesser stiffness of normal steel compared to that of spring grade steel, the thin design of a helical spring can still distribute force evenly, but it fails to measure up when faced with compression. Little more than an oddly shaped wire, the slinky could be quite entertaining when pushed down a set of stairs as it consistently carries the force applied to it from end to end. In terms of the aforementioned practical uses of the spring, one could make a shock absorption pad to prevent doors from damaging walls when flung open. In terms of the niche combat role that it could fill, one could find a spring implemented into their crossbow to increase the force without increasing the recoil. Spring loaded mechanisms and other complex machinery may be a bit too far away from our grasp, but the usage of a basic spring is a game changer in some fields of work or even in daily life. Restrictions As mentioned previously, tiny springs smaller than an inch in height and half an inch in width is simply not possible given the current tools and technological limits of this day and age. In order to even begin making a spring one must know how to refine or reinforce steel, as well as be knowledgeable in the handling of steel. Due to the sheer power of creations that could be made using the spring, it is recommended that one must apply via the forums in order to use springs in their role play. Springs also have a small number of uses before they break due to their relatively new discovery lending them not much research in the way of making them better. The smaller the spring, the sooner it breaks. Purpose By adding springs, this pushes the tech limit slightly further without exploding into an era of industrial revolution or clockwork nightmares. Springs in their simplest form bring what no other lore piece can really bring to the table for the time being, and that’s collective progression, not just in terms of per say the invention of a gate, but more along the terms of the lightbulb. It lays the groundwork for others to be built upon. One could not simply invent the lightbulb and then suddenly have efficient means to power it as we do with switches now. When the lightbulb was invented it took time for it to become completely practical in every day life, because not everyone has stable electricity, and some even still used torches or candles to light their way despite the superior product existing. By adding the spring, we aren’t thrust into a new time, but we have a sense of general progression that could not be achieved otherwise.
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