CorweenieTheJedi

Sevrel's facial expression was largely unchanged when he heard the news of Xavis' death. For years Sevrel had found solace in hating Xavis, but in reality, he was simply trying to cover up the pain of knowing the man Xavis was before his dark fall. Surely he was never perfect, and made many detestable choices, but Sevrel found meaning in serving in Vira'ker under Xavis' rule. He found purpose in protecting the royal (at the time) family, and by extension, Rhaella Ashwood, who became his oldest friend. The memory of chuckling as Xavis was reemed out by Rhaella when she was a child flashed into Sevrel's mind. Among other fond memories of the two, such as besting Xavis in a spar on the beaches of Vira'ker, to the great pleasure of the onlooking Rhaella. Sevrel took a ride to what was Vira'ker, and walked the beach. He looked out to the ocean, and pictured the two of them there with him. The winds blew, as a tear streamed down his cheek… "Ker'ayla, lirran…"

As the kind spirit of Micah O’Connell was carried to Knox’s Great Wheat field, the winds blew through the ethereal pasture. The tormented mind and soul was finally at peace. Waiting for him there was an old but stout looking halfling; with a big bushy beard, deep blue eyes, and a kind face. He smiled. “Howdy Micah…” ~ Burt skipped along the road to Brandybrook to see Uncle Micah. He had made a pumpkin pie himself to give the Thain, and was looking forward to hearing stories that the halfling had. He got to Micah’s residence and knocked on the door to the burrow, but got no response. Shrugging, figuring the Thain was busy, he decided to head to his own burrow and visit Micah later. When he got to his burrow, he noticed a letter in his mailbox, addressed to him from Micah. Perplexed, he took the letter and went inside. Once he sat down, he set the pie on the table and opened up the letter. As he read it, tears began to stream down his face. He dropped the letter and ran out his door, crying as he ran. He ran, and ran, and ran. He wanted to run away from it all. He didn’t want it to be true. He ran until there was nowhere left to run, and he found himself at the spot where the Dinkle river meets the sea. He fell to his knees, where he bawled. First Deek Driftwood, and now Micah O’Connell, two of the only people who he could learn about his father. Two people who he loved, and looked up to. He collapsed onto the ground and buried his head in his own embrace, as he wept... The flowers blew in the wind...

Burt wept in the arms of his caretaker, Taal, after hearing the news of his uncle's passing. He took a walk down the Dinkle River, to where it met the ocean. He thought about all the stories that Deek told him. Stories of amazing adventures with his father and Deek fighting monsters and sailing the seas on the Spicy Shrimp. He took solace in knowing that Deek had a (mostly) good life, but wished that he could have heard just one more story from the Old'un. As he walked the area on the beach where the grass meets the sand, he saw a lone white lily. He picked it, and held it up to look at it. A strong gust of ocean wind blew, and Burt looked down to the flower in his hand, and back out to the water. He walked to the edge of the water, and let go of the flower, allowing the wind to pick it up and towards the ocean. A few tears streamed down his face, but the boy smiled. "Goodbye, uncle Deek…" The wind blew through his hair and he looked on for a moment, before turning to head back home.

By the time Sevrel had arrived to the scene of the fire, it was not but smoldering rubble and ash covered debris. He conducted a brief survey of the area, before ordering several of his guards to begin investigating, along with ordering the security measures to be doubled around the city. As he walked up the stairs to his apartment, he barely got to his door before starting to lose his composure. He got himself inside his home, locked the door and unravelled. He let out an agonized scream of pure grief, as he smashed his fist into the wall until blood dripped from his worn knuckles. In a fit of rage, he drew his sword and brought it down on his dinner table, nearly slicing it clean in half, before the anger turned to sorrow. He stumbled and collapsed onto the floor with his back leaning against the wall; and hung his head, as hot tears streamed down his face, and spattered onto the floor. Alone, only with the memories of his oldest and dearest friend, he wept...

Asimu’leian Armed Forces Recruitment There would be a missive delivered to citizens of Asimu’lei, and to passerbys at the Cloud Temple To the citizens of the Lunar Domain of Asimu’lei, and all interested descendants. The Asimu’leian Armed Forces is the main body of the fighting and protection force for the Lunar Domain. They are tasked with the protection of the city, all offensive military action, and law enforcement within the city itself. The members of this organization are highly trained in combat, and those who work in the city are also given additional training needed to be an effective agent of the law. Those who accept the challenge are put through Basic Training, which lasts one Elven week. In that Elven week, they are given the skills needed to be bastions of our home, and carry out the duties charged to them. All members who pass this training, are immediately allotted the full benefits that come with service. These things include: All the gear necessary to carry out their duties. (Armour, weaponry, etc.) Daily rations. (A set amount of food to be given to the member on a regular basis.) Training in all sorts of occupations. (Whether you wish to be a foot soldier, reconnaissance, or law enforcement, we will give you the training needed.) Room to grow. (Through persistence and excellence, all members have the opportunity to climb their way up the ranks and take on new responsibilities with greater prestige.) Payment. (After the consecutive attendance of 4 scheduled event (training, patrols, skirmishes, deployments, etc) the member will be paid an amount equal to two hundred (200) Minae, to be paid within 4 Elven days after the fourth attended event.) An exclusive place for you to socialize and work with your fellow members. (A barracks and a dedicated communication forum (OOC: Discord Server) Free housing to all members. (Speak to the Minister of Okar, or Sage Tantalus for information.) Compensation for injured members, and families of fallen members. If these benefits sound enticing to you, and you feel you are up to the challenge, you are encouraged to apply with an interview with the Minister of Okar. Our doors are open to Asimu’lei citizens, and anyone who is willing to swear allegiance to the Lunar Domain. Note that if you are a foreigner, and are accepted to the Armed Forces, you will be allotted housing in the city. The world is changing. It is a very different place that it was when I was a young Mali, trying to make sense of everything. With these uncertain times, there must be people who are willing to stand up in the face of evil, and do the right thing... Is that person going to be you? Sevrel of House Valin’dar Minister of Okar The parchment ends with the official seal of Asimu’lei, and a letter address for the office of the Ministry. OOC: We are hiring soldier and guards for the Lunar Domain of Asimu’lei, in case you didn’t catch that. If you are interested, or know someone who is interested, I encourage you to join this discord, and ask any questions you may have. We hope to hear from you! Sevrel Valin’dar (Minister of Okar): Discord – @Cherry Blossom ?#1153 Tantalus (Sage): Discord – @MagicTurtle#9888 https://discord.gg/C935ty (OOC: If the invite link dies then PM me.)

Sevrel reads the missive and sets his face in the palm of his hand, groaning out of annoyance.

All Good Things... Come To An End... ”I’m glad you’re here with me, Samwise Gamgee... Here at the end of all things...” The day was peaceful. Birds chirped as they flew over the Dinkle River. The bees buzzed around pollinating the flowers. The sun shone brightly upon Brandybrook, the village that Benedict came to so long ago, seeking a place to call home. His time was not always so peaceful. Benedict had been through more battles and conflict than any Halfling had ought to have been in. He had repelled advancements of Uruk raiding parties in the Almenodrim alongside fearsome Oathblade warriors. He had slew great beasts from the Void that threatened Brandybrook. He had sailed the seas and fought the terrors of the undead. He had even marched straight into the Void when it threatened Arcas, alongside an army of Descendants, and once again on Grief’s fortress, where he had rallied the Weefolk to stand up and fight, the battle in which he lost his arm. His brushes with death had been severe, and many, yet he came out on top every time, hanging on to life. Quite possibly via pure stubbornness or disdain for his enemy. No, the Halfling’s tale had not always been a peaceful one. Some would tease him, claiming that there was too much Dwarf blood in him, which would explain the impressive beard. Were that true, Benedict thanked his excess of Dwarf lineage, for it enabled him to protect those who he loved, and keep his village safe. While in retrospective thought, he lay in his bed. He held his baby son, but he had not the energy to get out of his bed. He felt weak, tired, diminished. He knew he was facing down his last day. The door to Benedict’s room would open, and so would enter his two dearest and oldest friends, Taal and Feanor Sylvaeri. They would regard their Halfling friend with a bittersweet smile, as they too knew that today would be the day. They spoke of memories they had together, and with a healthy dose of sarcastic quips from the frail and old Halfling, they laughed together. Several people stopped by to see Benedict, and say their goodbyes. A few members of the Oathblades of Aegrothond came to pay their respects to their fellow warrior, as he had fought alongside them many times. A few tears were shed, but the time was focused on the happier moment of life, and good memories. Benedict was pale, and his veins were darkened a significant amount. His coughing fits got more frequent and more violent. The sickness that took his father, Rollo, was well underway in doing the same to Benedict. He grew tired, and weak. He asked his two Mali friends to bring him outside, so that he may look upon the village, and Dinkle river once again. They granted his request, Taal carrying the baby son, and Feanor carrying Benedict outside. They sat on a hill near his house, looking out. The breeze was light, the sun shone, the sounds of a serene village could be heard in the background. The trio spoke to each other. Taal made a final promise to care for Benedict’s child, as he were one of his own. Hearing that brought peace to Benedict. He leaned on his friend, head resting on Taal’s shoulder, as he was too weak to hold it up himself at this point. He wrapped his arm around Taal’s, and rested his hand on his son. Benedict’s breathe slowed. He commented on the beauty of the day, and rested his eyes for a moment, before looking down to his son. ”Thank you...” He said slowly, his voice exasperated. ”Thank... You...” He said even slower. With that, a long sigh... Benedict grew still, and in the company of his two dearest friends and his son... He passed on, to whatever lay beyond... OOC: What a freaking adventure. I came to LOTC in April of 2019, and started playing Benedict. He was a halfling in his prime, with a wicked beard. Over time, he grew to be so much more than a way to make myself feel jealous for not having as good of a beard. His story helped me learn about myself, and grow as a person. Which is pretty weird for a pixel block man, but whatever. I want to thank everyone who contributed to his story in some way. It was because of you that playing him through his journey has been such an incredible experience. Part of the reason for PKing him is an IRL one. Very soon, I leave for Basic Training for the Canadian Military, and I wanted to conclude his story before I left, as I will be away from the server for a substantial amount of time. The story gave me such an amazing time, I felt I owed it to the little cowboy to see him off properly, and in good fashion. Anyways, bye for now folks. It’s been a slice. So long, and thanks for all the fish...

Korvic my man, you are a top shelf lad, and an absolute class act. #KorvicForPresidentOfTheUniverse

Benedict snorts awake, looking out and sees the sun. He had slept in! In a panic, he hastily puts on his metal arm, gets dressed and rushes outside, only to see the party returning and having completely missed the protest himself. He grumbles, sighs, shrugs, and joins the others, glad that they all came back in one piece.

[!] A paper is pinned to the Brandybrook Noticeboard, and spread throughout Arcas! Benedict’s Brews Grand Re-opening! ~Brandybrook as seen by t’a birds!~ Lo All! Us Th’ last time I had Benedict’s Brews open fer business, it was a long long time ago! Some big things happened between then ‘n now, and I think it’s time to open up shop once again! What: A party to celebrate the re-opening of my brewery! Free booze to all who come! Where: In Brandybrook, th’ home o’ th’ halflings! (next to Aegrothond) When: In just under one Elven week I reckon. ((4pm PST, Friday the 31st of January)) Long Live Brandybrook! Glory ter t’a wee! -Benedict Hassenfor-Applefoot, Brandybrook Sheriff’s Deputy, former Captain of the Spicy Shrimp, Brandybrook’s Brewmaster. [!] The paper ends with the official seal of Brandybrook

About time the administration drops the hammer on the right people ???

Benedict reads this letter, and wonders if this Talbot would be willing to exact justice alongside him.

Benedict drops to his knees after reading the notice. He clenches his left fist, hard enough for his knuckles to go white, and growls in anger, and punches the notice board hard enough to split several cracks in it. With his right arm having recently been amputated, he can only carry a sword in his left, unpracticed arm. But nonetheless, he packs a bag of provisions, and heads out of Brandybrook to find his friend. "I'm coming for you Deek... Just stay alive..."

I appreciate your passion about the issue, and the time it took to write this post. I think it's very important to have open debate about these issues, and I'm happy to see so many people taking to time to bring forward meaningful comments about these things. This is what helps a community grow. +1

[!] A flyer is nailed to the notice board in Brandybrook! A Call To Arms! Fellow weefolk, I call on ya fer aid! Th' taint of the void is spreadin', and it needs t' be stopped! Th' force ah soldiers that sieged th' last void tear, is plannin' another attack at th' last tear, and against Grief himself. They plan to repel th' spread of th' void by placin' mana stones in a perimeter around th' tear. They call for fighters to escort th' mana stones, people t' operate th' ballistae an' provide long range support, an' healers to work in th' field clinic t' tend to our wounded! I know that yer scared. I am too. But if we don't stand up an' quell this evil, there won't be a Brandybrook t' hide in! Dig down deep, an' muster the Halfling courage that Knox blessed us with with! I'll be among the fighters escorting the mana stones to their positions. Any of ya who want t' fight, you'll be doing so alongside me on the battlefield, any others should talk t' th' other folks running things in th' field clinic an' ballistae. Fight, shoot, or heal, I implore you to come an' help make a difference! Fer Brandybrook, an' fer all of Arcas! Long Live Brandybrook! Yer's truly, Benedict Hassenfort-Applefoot Deputy Sherriff of Brandybrook The paper ends with the official seal of Brandybrook! ((I made this on mobile so apologies if it's janky. This event will happen on Monday, the 18th of November, at 2pm PST/5pm EST. Its advised that you join this discord > https://discord.gg/wMvfqD7 < for any info about the event line. Big thanks to @Tha_Mystery_Man for being such a chad and creating this fantastic event line.) )