Mescaffier

Igor Stonehammer lofts his ... hammer, a keg of beer in his other hand. " 'ATE ELVES! SIMPLE AS!" ---- John furrowed his brows, looking at the missive - gnarled hands grasping the paper, trembling. "Another druid grove being-- oh. Oh. They're void magi, nevermind."

Character Name: Can be decided later by Grommash/momo NPC Character Looks: A fe-uruk with gold-decorated dreads & skin marred by scars and ritualistic tattoos. Unsure of what color she'd be; could re-use purpleorc or make another skin. Character Backstory / personality etc: Driven less toward political/martial power and more toward Shamanism, seeks a spiritual golden age of Krugmar. Rest would develop as she & her siblings age. (one material gains-driven kid, one war-driven kid, and one spiritual gains-driven kid would be sick)

[This is a private letter! Please only reply if you were mentioned in the spoiler at the bottom, or have been given a copy via roleplay.] “TO the venerable House Weiss, I pen this letter in exasperation. Recent developments have come to my attention, prompting the need for an open discussion between us, patriarch to patriarch. The matter in question pertains to my heir, Christopher Galbraith, and his sudden betrothal to your heir, Ofeliya. I have no qualms with their relationship and I support my son in whomever he loves, and despite the lack of warning, I am fine with their marriage. Ofeliya is kind, and your House is a good sort. HOWEVER, there comes a point when lack of communication turns from improper to insulting. Only once have I ever been given the opportunity to meet your kin, and I & my wife, Princess Lucia, never were given the chance to discuss the matter of losing our Heir: we’ve been out of the loop nearly the entire duration of their courting. Imagine my horror when I was told that my son was supposedly then made to lose his eye in order to gain approval. Not only that – but he then had to pay his own dowry to marry into Weiss, a hefty fine of half a thousand mina or his favored Azhl dagger. This ignores much of humanity’s custom that if there even is to be a dowry, it’s to be paid to the family losing a member, by the family gaining one. My own family’s customs in marriage have also been ignored, and our customs in fashion and work were even insulted by a member of your house. I was advised by a close friend; Gwenyth, to speak to you on this matter. It’s understood that misunderstandings may have arisen, possibly even worsened by the ongoing war [Adrians, am I right?]. I request we meet sometime in the near future to discuss these issues, and hopefully, settle things out.” [!] A small addendum was added to the back of the parchment in true barbecue-dad fashion."P.S. Do you like to barbecue? We have a grill at Cascanova. A good icebreaker." IN HOC SIGNO VINCES His Excellency, John Augustus Galbraith, Baron of Cascanova, Patriarches de Galbraith, Secretary of Diplomatic Affairs, Royal Legate, Ward of the King. Her Highness, Lucía Raquel Adalia Laurelie Camilla de Pelear, Princess of Hyspia, Gran Mayordomo of La Dorada.

John, in the midst of an investigation, recieved his son's invitation -- and tucked it away with a smile. "They grow up so fast ... also, where's the dowry!?"

Awesome to see CT events!!

"Another year, another battle." John Galbraith sat in his parlor, attending to one of the ungodly many birds he kept - lost in thought as the man handed it a little slice of kiwi. "How many civilians are slain in Adria's refusal to submit? How many more will have to die?" he cawed, careful hand moving to pluck a thorn from its wing whilst it was distracted. "Or is this sin ladden upon us?" His son had died earlier in the War. He knew how he died -- a cultist, the wrong place at the wrong time. Sheer coincidence. But years of being told he'd died in battle had worn his mind down, and now, he joined others in mourning the war, the loss of his child, hardly of eight years. "War is a gruesome thing ... gruesome, gruesome. Are we not gruesome in being complacent, then?" John mumbled, shaking hands seeking his companion's. @teeylin

Pact de les Costes Issued 165 S.A. / 94 B.A. ARTICLE I: SOVEREIGNTY I. The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Kingdom of Balian hereby recognize each other's sovereignty/governance and the rights to their held lands. ARTICLE II: TRADE, EXCHANGE & COOPERATION I. The Most Serene State of Lurin and the Kingdom of Balian agree to host joint events or cultural exchanges as a way to promote the growth of national bonds. II. The signatories agree to provide the other nation a stall free of taxes within the other’s capital city. III. Both nations agree to host joint military training between the Centurions and the Royal Armada. ARTICLE III: NON-AGGRESSION I. Both the Serene State of Lurin and The Kingdom of Balian agree to the clauses of non-aggression and agree to allow safe passage/travel for citizens from either of the respective settlements who are attempting to visit an allied land. If an individual from either of the respective settlements violates this article, then an emergency meeting between the two groups shall be held. ARTICLE IV: LAND CLAIMS I. Both the Serene State of Lurin and the Kingdom of Balian agree to not encroach upon each other's land, being the floodplains and jungles respectively. ARTICLE V: DURATION I. This pact lasts 12 years, till the end of the 177th year of the Second Age. The pact may be declared null and void if either signatory violates any of the articles and if the matter cannot be resolved between the two groups. Signed, Her Royal Majesty, Sybille I, by the Grace of GOD, Queen of Balian, Princess of Providence, Duchess of Helena and Lorraine, Countess of Pompourelia, Viscountess of Eflen and Anatis, Baroness of Renzfield, Brucca, Valens, Malenos and Ciavola, Lady of Portoregne, Atrus and Monterosa, Warden of La Costa Rubinissima, Protector of the Heartlanders and the South, etcetera. The Silver Lubba, Lumia Anarion His Excellency, John Augustus Galbraith, Baron of Cascanova, Patriarches de Galbraith, Ward of the King, Secretary of Diplomatic Affairs, Royal Legate. Hand of the Lubba and Prime Minister of Lurin. Baron of Aevum, Edvard Kervallen

An aging Legate waved the flier toward Sybille, a brow poised. "Remember when we tried to tell them those damned Adrians would lose?" he snickered. " 'We fight for the stronger side' my arse." @HIGH_FIRE ----------- Clang, clang. A fe-uruk sharpened her waraxe, sweat beading down her forehead. "All pinkiez week -- we shuld hab warred both sides, hozh grizh!"

Somewhere, an Arcasian historian is teaching his students about old Sutica's economy. "The mali who went by Quavininir caused mass inflation with all those damned bronze combs and masks. Made bronze crafts useless, he did!"

Dame Viktoriya groggily rose, ghoulish eyes squinting through the dark at the skeleton that dare woke it. "Hssk ... let me slumber, gotte-damnit -- I don't need to know about each new Lubba!" ... "What do vy mean, Edvard is the Silver Lubba? Former?!" The Knight hissed, sinking back into its cushy sarcophagus.

[Character progress post] “I see your face in evr’y place that I’ll be going – I read your words like black, hungry birds read evr’y song.” ‘Zaelyn Arvellon's wings tucked close once again, her narrowed eyes flickering across the table. “You have Fae within your very own court as well, Queen Sybille,” she spoke, flashing a smile as she left.’ The man that stood behind their group shrunk, ill-hidden shame lingering upon his face as the Druid envoys shuffled out. He offered no reply to those who spoke to him, mind in some other realm as John oft did – but a deep fear had ingrained itself within him, taking hold like the great roots of the neem tree. When responsibilities were few and his years still young, he spent day and night on that accursed island, alone in his woe. But in truth, many things dwelled within the Watcher’s Roost; and it’d been only a matter of time til’ he’d find himself sharing his own mind with one of the pests. In truth, it was an annoyance at worst and benign at best, but for a god fearing man, such a creature was the same as Iblees itself. It followed him whichever way he went, making a fool of the Baron at … inopportune times. Many a crude experiment, many a nights of pleading, John learned to live with the incumbent Fae as it lived with him. At times, it prevented an early death, still unbeknownst to him – the sycophant had to keep a close eye on the man’s damned liver with how often he drank. “You have fae within your very court.” John’s vision swam and his heartbeat shuddered. Like when the host and inhabitant had been threatened with that detestable steel, Azhl, a sense of fight-or-flight overtook them; it wasn’t long before the Baron was seabound, headed for the Watcher’s Roost once again with the Princeling’s words ringing in his mind. ‘Why don’t we burn the forest?’. He’d become peculiarly attached to that place over the decades – and the pest it introduced him to, in a bittersweet sense. Little had he known his own off-handed reminder of its existence to the other Duana, that its future now laid in murky waters.

Some of these are very strangely formatted and worded, could have possibly benefited from being read by some other folks before posting. Some stuff that stuck out to me (take with a grain of salt, I haven't read the draziman lore for a few months) - why, in the sharing ability, is there a random tidbit about an adrazi being able to regenerate a limb? - Sharing emotions in general seems out of place for drazi, and sparsely outlined for what it is (+ unfortunately some people do use it to be weird) - As far as I can understand, inner-flame is incredibly important to drazi; if they lose enough they can be PKed or corrupted (essentially a PK). Being able to give someone a refill in just one emote is very overpowered (and, especially since it seems there's a limit to how much one can have, might be impossible irp). - Dragon bones (and thus dracanium) is superduper rare. Being able to completely replicate it and bind it completely negates the reason Dracanium is rare I def understand the reason for some of these and they'd be great additions otherwise, but seem to lack proper balancing

John, on his fifth glass, angrily squinted. "Shut up, teu know what I meant!"

John Augustus Galbraith settled in to a chair across from his bestest of friends, lifting a glass laden with red wine to the air. "Another year, another battle -- we slaughter them like dogs. When will they give up?" @teeylin

"NAPIER???" some creature of undeath -- a former Helena resident -- cawed. "WHY ARE THEY STILL. ALIVE!"

Womp womp I said this about Vlachia, about Ravenwood, and will continue 2 as more and more realms pop up (we still have 22 or 23). Splitting and creating yet another realm, far up north where other realms continue to go to die, is prone to becoming an empty city or ST ruins down the road. It is what it is, and if you've so much as looked at the forums you'd have seen there were several forum posts (with 200+ replies between them all) that had the general consensus that new realms = bad. just my two cents /shrug

[Guide] Hou-zi Skins Brought to you by the Hou-zi Community Discord [Click this for an invite!] Hou-zi are fairly un-complex, most akin to how elf/human faces are shaped in skins, but with fur. There are a plethora of FTU clothing submissions, but very few FTU hou-zi skins. Here’s how you can make your own! *+-__________-+* Heads For this tutorial, I’ll be making a Fei-zhu (colorful baboon-like Hou); this is also applicable to Laobai-zhu (the brown-furred monkeys) and somewhat to Hei-zhu (gorillas). 1. Go to your preferred skin editor! Mine is Planet Minecraft. 2. Select a base color. For Fei-zhu, they can be many different colors (like orcs) in fur and skin color. Typically, their skin contrasts their fur color or is a color beside them on the color wheel (like red & yellow, blue & green, or blue & yellow). For Hei-zhu, though they are typically gray & black, have historically also been the most sub-species with albino variants (seen in a clan before in Tongyi-Hu of Arcas). They are also sometimes are brown-hued. For Laobai-zhu, their colors have ranged from dark blondes, to browns, to red-browns, and sometimes dark (almost black) browns with lighter skin. 3. Face Shapes & Eyes. Face shapes are pretty consistent with all Hou-zi, differing in how fur is shaped and what haircut you give your monkey. The only subrace that sometimes differs are Hei-zhu. As you can see, Hou-zi tend to have inverted eyes (lighter pupils, darker sclera), though in lore don’t actually have pupils or irises at all. [Third skin by Jihnyny!] 4. Shading. Shading the front face is fairly simple. I lower the opacity (typically 8-14%) and use a red color to layer on darker shadows on one side, and a highlight of white on the lightly shadowed side as you can see above. Purple and blue work, too (especially if your character has gray, black, or brown skin). What’s trickier is shading the fur. There are various ways of shading it, but most opt to shade it the same as you would hair, OR, shade it sort of like a cube & layer over it on the Hat Layer to add depth. As you can see below, I did the cube-shading method, alongside adding shading behind and around the ear. -> -> And there you go! A fabulous Hou-zi head. I’ll likely be giving this away in the community disc.

"", shouted John Augustus, hoisting a poorly drawn picture of the de Pelear coat of arms. He slowly turned around to face his wife, Princess Lucia. "Was that good enough? Can ea go home now, please? I'm tired of viva-ing Hyspia ..." @stickyhon

NNNOOOO DONT TRUST HIM

Hyped for the un-shelving of Hou-zi as an old hou player, so I made a discord for those wanting to congregate, OR want help with their CA (skins, lore, etc). Also seeking to set up a racial hub for us IRP some place; if anyone knows of a realm that might want to house some monkees, my discord is @velkuzat! https://discord.gg/Pvj5RZ5pSZ (RP posts coming soon, :tm:)

"Wasn't he an elf?" Croaked an old, decaying ISA Captain - awake, after laying dormant for decades. "Godani ... I hate elves . . ." the woman hissed, though folded the paper away, tucking it into a wrangled coat pocket.

John glanced out the window of his office, toward the Armada building, with a frown. It'd been long since he'd seen Damien - where had that valiant soldier gone?