CorweenieTheJedi

don't play anymore, didn't read the post, but orlanth's right ong

game bad

Never really thought I'd be writing a post in this topic. Back in the yonder days of April 2019, I Googled "medieval fantasy minecraft servers". Boy did I have no idea what I was getting in to. A year and change later, and so much has happened. If you care to read, I'll summarize it. If you read to this point and you wanna get back to clicking on SoL rpers, then scroll to the bottom. The first character I made was a hardy and stout bearded halfling named Benedict Hassenfort. Some may remember him, some may have never heard of him. Regardless, he was the eye opener to this amazing thing that we call Minecraft RP. I played him for a good year(ish?), made a couple other characters, and PKed him when it felt right. After that, I went off to join the military IRL. When I came back from basic training, I thought I would be very casual about my involvement - but as anyone who has spent some time on the server can say, that's just not how things go around here. In my time here, I got up to a lot of fun stuff. Was mod (for like, 2 months lol), I fought in wars, made more characters who I laughed and cried about. The most notable one other then Benedict would be Sevrel Valin'dar the Mali'ker, who was essentially the embodiment of unadulterated masculinity and kickass, with a beard and a wicked facial scar to top it all off (thanks Budaq for giving me the scar IRP). In his time, he rose from a lowly guard, to a royal bodyguard, to the leader of soldiers, to a commander of an army, and back down to a partially insane old 'ker. To any of you who contributed to my fun with him, thank you. I had numerous other characters, from Irehearts to Kharajyr, who were all fun - but enough about IRP, why am I leaving the server in such a characteristically correct dramatic fashion? Honestly, I don't know. I always thought that it would keep pulling me back, but it has suddenly lost it's hold on me, and I reckon it's time to move on. There are however, some reasons I am relieved that it has done so. Over my three years, I have let this server take over my life at times, in a very literal sense of the word. This is of course nobody's fault but my own, but the effects are just the same. I have poured hundreds of hours into numerous projects, only to be snaked by people who had ulterior motives. I'm not gonna be petty and name names, but you know who you are. It got to the point where I was letting it take over my interest in other hobbies, and eventually it got to the point where all I could think about was getting home and getting on LotC. Again, nobody's fault but my own, but I know I'm not the only person who has dealt with this. I want to clarify that I don't say these things to garner sympathy, it's just a matter of fact, and I want the people here I care about to know. If you think you don't care, then I am curious as to why you are still reading. I could go on about all the negatives that this server has had on my life and my mental health, but I do try to stay positive these days. In these three years, I have had the privilege of getting to meet and play with some truly incredible and creative people. I was able to weave amazing stories; stories of triumph, and stories of heartbreak and despair. All of them have been incredibly satisfying, and it has been because of the people who I have met along the way. What I'm getting at, is that I do not regret my time on the server (God that sounds dramatic) - and I would do it all over again if it meant meeting all of you amazing people once more and creating the memories we did. This isn't some sort of scathing review of LotC. The server is not some malignant conscious entity that intentionally ruins your life, it simply exists. It is up to you to decide what effect it has upon your life; I chose poorly, and paid for it, but c'est la vie. Remember, you come first, not this server. To any people that I have hurt/upset, I am sorry. I wish you well. To my friends (in no particular order); huskey, kuehl, monkee, pancho, chase, mario, harley, zilldude, wand, jumper, masouri, tigergiri, mystery, clocky, tori, alexa, kindemperor, elite, meteor, toni, auswolf, sunny, gilded, heartesy, maury, orlanth, cappor, jade, vooper, thespiritdragon, imiya (you change your name too often), sticky, twilight, cheesewheel, chaos, frogger, kaiser, nerdy, you all made my time enjoyable, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. If your name is not on that list, consider what it is you did to make me hate you so much - that or I just forgot to put your name down, you decide which works for you. A special shoutout to the halfling community - thank you for such a warm welcome 3 years ago, I won't forget it. To everyone else, I hope you see my foolish mistakes as a learning experience, or at least get a good chuckle from it. To the staff, I know you are trying your best - thank you. In closing, remember to put your own mental well being and enjoyment before anything to do with this server. Play on it, make fun stories, enjoy it. But remember, the people may be real and important to you, but LotC itself? It is just a game. It's been a slice, thanks for everything. Yours truly, Cherry. Stay based ferrybois

"Peace with the Uruks" the elder 'ker scoffs... "We shall see how long it lasts I suppose" he mumbled to himself, begining to ramble incoherently under his breath...

Sevrel woke up in a huff, rushing to get dressed and sprinting to the gates, only to see he had slept through another battle! Rats!

"War makes for strange bedfellows, it would seem..." an old 'ker muttered to nobody in particular.

This is one missive that I won't be throwing into my fireplace.

I'm going to shoot down literally every bird that I see.

The old Valin'dar sharpened his blade and washed the Uruk blood from his armour, scoffing at the bold claims of the Horde. "They never learn, do they..."

An old 'ker reminisced upon his time serving Oranor Exarch - through tumultuous times and horrific battles, even through an attack of Azdromoth himself did the Valin'dar Lord do his duty to the crown, up until he left to be with his kin. "So passes another grain of sand in the hourglass..." he would mutter to nobody in particular. His mind began to drift, and the memories fractured somewhat - not a new sensation to Sevrel. He did what he could to force his mind to remember Evar'tir's reign, and it comforted him...

this lore has been accepted

Andre wakes up later, only to realize he slept through the entire event!

An old and tired 'ker looks upon the missive brought to him by one of his children - he rarely leaves his house in recent years, rumours of a broken mind cursed by a monster surround the elder warrior, yet the family says little of it. "Glory, to Malin's folk..." the Valin'dar patriarch affirmed to nobody in particular. As he once more for the first time in years donned his Lordly armour and made way to step out his abode. Upon the precipice of the door, he paused to speak to himself again. "Glory, to Malin'or"

What does it feel to make an AMA thinking there will be lots of people wanting to ask you so many questions only for the post to flop feels bad man, me too

Dear Elysium, we are in your walls... On the 13th of The First Seed, year 73 of the Second Age; brave warriors of Krugmar, The Hustlers, The Silver Hands, The Bojo Family, and The Doomforged Clan did seek battle against the racist child killers of Elysium. Valiantly did they ride their noble steeds unto the gates of the corrupt city, only to find their adversaries cowering behind the walls. The warriors of the ARTF (Anti-Racism-Task-Force) did beckon out their foe to meet them upon the fields of battle, though no such request was acquiesced, and so did the cowardly racists turn away and show their tail. However, the courageous warriors of the ARTF did not quit! Together did they put their heads to come up with a solution, and a solution they did find! In the wall near the front gate to the city was a break in their otherwise impervious defenses - a hole was found by none other than Brankhyn Doomforged! The warriors crawled through the hole, and found themselves within the walls of the terrible city. And thus did the ARTF declare to the murderous racists hiding behind the cause of Almaris's iron door shortage... "ELYSIUM, WE ARE IN YOUR WALLS" The taunt rang out through the city, and so the Elysian "soldiers" did scatter, running from the mere sight of the ARTF warriors. They ran all the way back to their castle where they once again hid and cried, shying away from facing the racism hating warriors. A Silver Hand mercenary shouted a warcry so terrible, that it seemed as if every Elysium lost faith in God upon hearing it! After much taunting and staring at several hundred iron doors, the ARTF warriors grew bored, and decided to go home to exercise and study their scriptures. The brave and valiant warriors of the ARTF did not fell any racists this day, but the message was clearly sent... We are in your walls, and we hate racism! Perhaps the Elysians are lucky this day, for the heroic Bumba'lzig never made it to the battle, for he fell off a bridge! But by golly did he try!

very freaking based. also the juxtaposition of this and the dragon made me laugh

Sevrel Valin'dar raised an ale for the valiant dwarf he once fought alongside, many years ago. Later that evening, he made an offering for the lost warriors at the shrine of Uradas, praying that the great warrior ancestor would find it in his heart to help the fallen's souls to their final resting place. "May your ancestors guide you home, brave dwed"

Dungrimm's halls await those of a stone heart and iron will... It was meant to be some sort of scouting mission, the details were blurry. Barundin had just spent that morning acting as the King's bodyguard, and had little time to rest before he was set to ride out to the Hollow. Upon arrival, the sights were stark. A foul stench was wrought into the very earth he trod upon, and the air was heavy with dread... Deeper and deeper into the hollow the company ventured, the fearless dwarfs confident that Dungrimm guided their path, and it was not until it was too late that they realized they had crossed the threshold of no-return. A horrifically terrible screech was sent through the air, and the company beheld their doom. A three headed monstrosity came into view, pure darkness and tendrils of shadow whipped around it as it's massive wings kept it afloat above the epicenter of the Hollow - presumably from whence it came. Before the company had much time to comprehend the beast, a barrage of lightning bolts were sent towards the descendants. Some were sent flying, others were relatively unharmed, and it was then that the descendants broke and began to retreat. Barundin saw an opportunity to escape, but looked back to see Kronk Stormheart lay helpless at the bottom of the ravine along with Gwydion Ireheart attempting to assist the injured Grand Marshal. Barundin stopped running, and made his choice... No Dwarf left behind... "We cannae leave 'em behoind!" he declared, and made his way down the steep incline. Once there, he assisted Gwydion in getting Kronk on his feet. "Come on ye git! Ye dunnae get te hog all th' gloreh today!" he said as he began to help the Grand Marshal away from the danger. Such efforts, however, would be in vain. Another, smaller, creature landed not 20 meters away from the trio and began to ready an attack. Kronk made one last valiant attempt to protect himself and his comrades with his magical shield, but the enchantment failed, and caused the shield to blow up, sending all three of the dwarfs onto their bottoms. Dungrimm's halls awaited... The beast let out it's horrific blast of voidal lightning, and in a final act of brave defiance did Barundin let loose his polearm towards the beast, landing the weapon into what seemed to be it's neck. "DUNGRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMM!!!" With a final bellowed warcry, Barundin Ireheart let the God of Death know he would be there soon - and he was swiftly turned to ash by the voidal monstrosity... With that, the story of Barundin Ireheart came to a close. In his home, a letter sat tucked away in his desk. Though it was riddled with spelling mistakes, the message was clear. Deer reedar. If yoo ar reedin this lettar, it liklee meens that I hav met my end, and I hopfooly am dining with Dungrimm. Sins I am nat her to asc yoo of this, plees tayk this lettar as my humbol last reqwest. I hav a son, hoo I hav kept hiddan frum thes lif, as I did not wunt his yung yeers to be playged by violens. His mothah died durin his birth, and I knew I culd not do it on my own. He livs with the halflins, and will soon reelize he is not won of them. Plees find him, and bring him hom to Urgooawn to be with his kin. His naym is Fundin. Be the fawthar I culd not be to Fundin. Signed, Barundin Ireheart

The elder Valin'dar heard the news of the Puerokar's passing, and it made him wonder. In his final years, in his final days, or perhaps in his final moments... Did Air ever find forgiveness in his heart for Sevrel?

Sevrel let out a sigh as he heard the news. He went through the motions of performing the passing on ceremony in the Ancestral Temple - one which he had become all too familiar with at this point in his life. "They aren't supposed to leave while they're so young..." the elder 'ker lamented. "You're taking care of them... Right?" he asked, looking up to the statue of Velulaei, before he began to sob...

what does that even mean which one, the one that burnt down recently or the other one that broke down in my driveway last week? no, he had his chance to help me