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Tournament of Nations The Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska extends an invitation to every nation and settlement all across the continent of Almaris to send their most valiant warrior to represent their people in the Tournament of Nations. The victor of this tournament will be bestowed the honorary title of Champion of Almaris and be gifted a decorative olive wreath signifying their victory. After the tournament, we will head to the tavern for drinks and various tavern games. The Tournament will consist of two brackets, a winners and losers bracket. Once someone loses a match, they will jump to the losers bracket where they still have a chance, with whoever makes it through the losers bracket making it to the final matchup. Each round will have a different weapon, so that the winner is truly the best, and everyone has equal chances. We wish the best of luck to every nation, and hope that they will join us during this contest. Invitations are hereby extended to: The Holy Orenian Empire The Grand Kingdom of Urguan The Silver State of Haelun’or The Kingdom of Norland The Rexdom of Krugmar The Free Trade State of Sutica The Crown of Elvenesse The Druidic Order The Sheikdom of Al’Faiz The Province of Vaelya Marsumar Talon’s Port If you would like to participate, but are not listed above, please fill out this form: Settlement/Group: Leader’s OOC Name: Leader’s RP Name: OOC INFO SINCE I WAS STUPID AND FORGOT IT: Sunday 12/27 4:00PM EST PLEASE ARRIVE 15 MINUTES IN ADVANCE This is a PVP only tournament! If each nation lead could contact me on discord (Aidoro#0946) with the username of their champion OR at the time of event message me ingame (Aidoro) so we don't have people arguing that would be appreciated. One per nation! Please try to select a backup as well in case the original cannot make it. Nations / Settlements can choose their champion however they wish, but each will only be allowed to have ONE participate.

[!] Invitations have been sent to all registered citizens of Elvenesse, with formal letters arriving at the halls of the many elven houses that reside within the nation. [!] The Ceremony of Winter Starlight You have been cordially invited to attend and participate in an ancient tradition passed down by the alder folk, from Almenor and Malinor past. Don your most festive winter garb and bring your kin, for we are to witness the retelling and reincarnation of our grand heritage, almenodrim, wood elven and dark elven alike. In ancient times when Malin's children were plenty, the first sons and daughters would erect a sturdy pine, grown from the earth with the guidance of the Green Mother, and let its emerald limbs drape proudly in the great hall of the Elf Father. These ancient elves adored the light of the stars, even more so for the line of Sylvaen. The winter air blessed the sky with a brilliant shroud of glittering diamond-like stars, and the constellations the elves had named were most clearly visible this time of year. The young children of the elves would gather around the tree and gaze towards the sky with wonder, for those stars hold memory and meaning everlasting... just like the alder folk themselves. As each House gathered with shining, colored glass orbs, fantastically bright lights and golden silks, the elves adorned the tree with the likeness of their most beloved constellations and stars. With each ornament hung, new memories were believed to be sealed anew into those far-off stars above. Malin's halls alighted with the laughter of children as fine gifts were laid at the foot of the tree, waiting to be opened near winter's end. These were fine days indeed, where merriment and the love for the elven people filled the air absolutely. Now we are here at the present, in a new, strange and yet majestic realm... Let us capture the memory of our ancestors and create new ones in merry celebration and liven the winter air of our Elvenesse. May each House and Seed create their own ornament from any material best suited to their family, sealing in those beloved memories of family, love, children and life, and come to the lighting ceremony. To keepers of our faith, bring forth a decorative tree skirt embroidered with images of our Wild Gods, for the faith is the foundation of our unity lies within our dedication to our patrons. At the conclusion of our ceremony, a grand star that will complete the Mariner's constellation will adorn the top of our tree, forged from the heat of Malin's flame itself. May our new gladed home be filled with the winter spirit, I hope to see you all there!

_ . _ ~ THE SIEGE OF THALOR ~ _____________________________________ Amidst the rolling hills and towering spruces sat a desolate city. The humble town evaded the ravaged civilizations of Arcas in the deep wilds. The wildlands had harbored the quaint town of Thalor since the Descendants’ arrival to Arcas. Its once-bustling streets have grown silent and now stands as a testament to times long past, times of simplicity and ease. Thalor remained as a sole reminder to nature and its ever-churning repossession of that which is done by the Descendants. Its towering walls crumbled under the oppressive weight of time, seen through its shattered bricks of stone; however, the presiding walls’ looming presence demanded reverence. The whistling breeze echoed through the crumbling buildings and windows, as it had for many decades. Patches of grass and weeds had sprouted up in the cracks between the cobbled roads as if a flower continuing to bloom. Thalor had returned itself to nature in a peaceful manner. Unkept, yet unbound. Thus, Thalor sat in eternal peace for many years to come. The reserved tranquility of nature and civilization’s coexistence was soon shattered by Descendant presence. The Blackhand gang brought themselves before the formidable walls of stone and moss. The intimidating walls of darkened stone were welcoming to the bandits, strangely enough. It was as if the wind had encouragingly pulled the bandits within the encampment solely out of the desire for civilization. The presence of the Blackhand gang was noted by the Brothers of Virtue. The Brotherhood gathered a party to remove the ruffians and allow for quietude to resurface in the ruinous city. Alas, no peaceful conclusion would be reached between the two parties. No peace would ever be found within the walls of Thalor again after such bloodshed. A party of soldiers had forcibly removed an equally aggressive group to preserve the peace. Perhaps it is best for Descendants to not reclaim that which nature has taken for itself. [OOC] This event has concluded. Thanks for one hell of an eventline, @Motherchild!

(Colorized, a soldier of Elvenesse standing against the demon Sultan M’ag’nus C’arne. Circa 1792.) [!]A letter finds it’s way throughout the land of Arcas. For anyone who cared to read. Operation Red Dawn. The 11th of Malin’s Welcome, 1792. From the office of the Prince of Elvenesse Feanor Sylvaeri. “Let it be known now, the demonic “Sultan” known as M’ag’nus C’arne was slain in combat by soldiers of Elvenesse. Led by the Sea Prince Feanor Sylvaeri himself, M’ag’nus was caught hiding within an abandoned forge near the borders of Elvenesse. To which he was swiftly dealt with and killed. The hammer which the demon carried was proven to NOT be that of the “Hammer of Urguan”, but instead a fake which chipped upon a final blow. Throughout the land, the combined forces should rejoice in the fact that a great evil has been slain this day. A mighty endeavor to rid the land of the otherworldly invaders. Take this moment to heart, for the men and women of our great descendant races have truly displayed valor, honor, and courage in these theaters of battle. Let it be known, that M’ag’nus C’arne is dead.” Duly signed, Aesilnoth Tundrak. Signed in absentia, His royal eminence the Sea Prince, Feanor Sylvaeri. Crown Prince for the Realm of Elvenesse.

Gruesome Greetings Arcas Your freaky friends at the Druidic Order will be celebrating Hallow’s Eve’ this year with ghastly games and creepy competitions. All are welcome to join us this Summer, to participate in the season of all things spooky. Trick or Treat Last Elven Year, we shambled our way to haunts near you, spreading the frightening festivities, but you all ran and hid- except the Halflings and Haense, we got on like a housefire! This year boos and ghouls of all ages are invited to trick or treat at our Gruesome Grove, which we’ve decorated devilishly for the occasion. Stitch and sew yourself a costume, then join in. Pumpkin Carving Showcase your gorgeous gourds, in a contest of who can slice, scoop and stuff the best. It’s just pumpkins, fret not! There are several categories to be won, from the most grievous of grins to the more pleasant of pumpkins, and prizes for all. Batty Brewing Practice your potions and ready your retorts, because Batty Brewing is back! It’s time to go up against other aspiring alchemists and masters of mixtures, in a game of continuously challenging concoctions, designed to put your brewing to the test. Beware my wily witches, one wrong move can lead to disaster. At the end of the fiendish festivities, we’ll join the rest of Firewatch in Korvassa for the blood-curdling climax of the season by putting down as many Inferi as possible. Find us wading our way through the infernal invaders, and join us in our celebrations. Sleep tight.

~The Drifter’s Feast of Remembrance~ The morning sun would start to rise upon the city of New Reza, drawing yet another day of Haense life out onto display. The Drifter’s wagon had been pretty quiet as of recent, this being because of refusing to take people out on bounties until he had figured “something”, that he wouldn't speak of, out. Though today had been different, as the Drifter would finally come out of a shell that he had stayed within whilst planning a surprise for those he had been employing to do bounties. Today would be his big Feast of Remembrance. He had planned and planned for this event, going as far as ordering a party planner to help set everything up. As this party was formulated, the surrounding slum dwellers would come to pick up and talk of this feast. After facing complaint after complaint from these peasants, the Drifter decided to invite them too in hopes that they wouldn’t tell anyone of the feast that had been planned. Though as this party had been being set up, the three bards who had been hired would suspiciously be prowling around the Drifters wagon. One of the three would drop one of the eagle like medallions, without knowing of it. The day had finally come for this party to take place. Once the two men, who had come along for this feast unknowingly, had gotten to the wagon, they would start being debriefed by the Drifter as he made up a bounty off of the top of his head. Thorn and Fyodor stood out front of the wagon whilst the Drifter debriefed them, saying that he had found the group’s base of operations that they’d been looking for. As the two had gotten there, a small feast of berries and potatoes had been prepared for them. Though they were met by an odd fellow, by the name of Albert whilst the three bards played a delightful tune for the feast. The men wearily conversed with Albert, with the tense feeling of mystery. Noises of metallic scraping surrounded the feast as it went on, putting the two more on edge whilst they talked to Albert. Suddenly, the bards would abruptly stop their lively tune, and turn it into a more jestful and violent like song. Whilst the slum dwellers and attendees alike, took a fine moment to take in the sudden change in music, they would know that something had to have been wrong. Suddenly, a wolf jumped out at one of the slum dwellers as it would pull him onto the ground and ravagingly bite into his neck. More wolves would appear as Fyodor and Thorn made quick work of them, with the help of the slum dwellers. Though archers would begin to fire at the duo as Thorn would be hit by one before wildly charging at them like a boar, showing them no mercy as he tore them to pieces. As the fight continued to drag along, Joshua Sirsk would appear to aid his fellow hunters in their attempts to protect the slum dwellers. As the reinforcements had arrived, quickly another beast that had taken up a large cage would be unleashed upon the group. With the command issued by Fyodor, the slum dwellers retreated as two of them would be unlucky enough to be slashed through by the bear’s hulking strength in a single motion. After a little bit of trouble, Fyodor and Joshua would successfully take down the bear whilst crushing it’s spine. Once the bear had fallen, the surrounding men started a retreat whilst the bards pulled Carrions from their pouches and tossed them out at the slum dwellers who had fled combat with the bear. No mercy was shown toward these opposers as Thorn was able to run down one of the bards before pouring alcohol on him, and setting him ablaze. After this long fight against starved wildlife, the trio of men quickly left the area after sorting everything out with Albert. Fyodor would return to the Drifter’s lively wagon on his lonesome, as he turned in the bounty to call it a day. To Fyodor’s surprise, the Drifter had set up the party. Though he hadn’t known anything about the ambush. The Drifter slid a slack of gold, as well as a medallion over to Fyodor as he gave the man a small smirk. The Drifter would go into a small coughing fit as he exited their conversation by entering his wagon. ~Note To The Community~ Looking here at this screen as I write this, I knew it would only be right to have an OOC note to this beautiful community that has brought me here. Enjoy!! 😃 I’d just like to take a moment to say thank you a thousand times over from the bottom of my heart! Looking back at these past 2 months, I see a journey that I have partaken. Though it isn’t one that I’m on alone as I, the Drifter, have a community that appreciates the events I run. From my experiences of running homebrew after homebrew and constantly having players go inactive, I see this as a rarity. This growing community of bounty hunters has helped me strive to keep pushing events out. I remember back when I held the first ever “bounty” from the Drifter’s wagon. It was somewhat of an experiment, that turned into chaos rather quickly. Though we made it through the event, fullsteam ahead! Though, I do know that it would’ve gone different if not for you all being there to support me through the troubles I had beginning. Anyone who has been to even a single bounty event, thank you so much, as you helped me build up my emotes. I truly couldn’t have gotten to where I am without this great community of LOTC players that surrounds me. Though it has only been 2 months, look where we are! We have reached the big 50TH EVENT milestone through our hard work, and efforts to keep this wagon stable. If we can do that in only 2 months, I know that we will reach 100 in no time. But first, let's take a step back for a moment to enjoy the 50th. It’s not everyday that you run your 50th event you know ;). Throughout my time at the event running as the Drifter, you’ve all been here throughout my journey that you have joined me on. We’ve had great moments, some bad, and some that have left us with good laughs. Bumps in the road are sure to be encountered by those who fare it. I look forward to continuing on this ride with you guys. I hope that I have left a trail of great memories behind as that is really the whole reason that I have been running these events. It could seem silly to ask this of you, but if you could. Please leave any lingering feedback, or feel free to share a memory that you’ve had in a bounty (if you’ve had any). (Ik that up there ^^ was super cheesy, I don’t care tho 😃) Big OOC Thank you To: Mio_ : Thanks a bunch for those minas that you gave me! I could not have gotten this far without them, otherwise these events would have made me bankrupt! GoodGuyMatt: Thanks for the RP items you gave me early on when I was just getting started! They’ve helped a bunch! StillAMiniGuy: Thanks for being there to help me out with setting this all up man, couldn’t have done any of this without you! Firespirit44: Thanks a bunch for going over emotes with me, and taking the time to help me out with improving! It means a lot! HRA/BSK/Haense’s community: I’m so glad to be a part of this great community, it feels like a family, and I feel overjoyed to have brought these experiences to you all! I couldn’t have done any of this without your support, fam! 😉 The entire community: I’d feel bad if I didn’t include this. Don’t worry if you weren’t on here since there were far too many names to go through, and the forum post would’ve gone on for a very long time if I took the time to list everyone who has left a meaningful impact or had helped me along the way. Just know that I am extremely grateful to you all, and am super happy that you take time out of your daily lives to spend time in my events! Cya around the wagon sometime- Limo_man / The Drifter If you are interested in joining the fun of doing these bounties, have the Discord link! Feel free to join if you wanna, it's open to everyone! ~sigh~, I still can’t figure out how to format even after these 2 months.... lol

Hereupon came midnight, Dominus Grishnaakh’Raguk having awoken from the midst of a slumber, of which he struggled to slip deeply into, similarly so to previous nights. Rising back unto his feet, the elf looked up to the stars, that glimmered a white hue through his tired eyes. This night was no different from that of the night he’d spoken with Phaedrus; just as tiresome and dull as such. The air, which took a deep hue of grey, was more akin to the hue of a bayou, just as murky and heavy. In a struggled attempt to reconnect with his troubled thoughts, Grishnaakh returned from whence he usually strung about; the bottom level of the shaman’s den. Drapes and vines swept across the surface of his long locks of blonde, glare of several torches appearing in the mint green of his beady eyes. The heat, having scalded upon his, now dried, branding of Skalp’Raguk manifesting a throbbing pain upon his flesh. T’was then that it came to him, Skalp’Raguk. A name he knew much of, but seldom heard of since beyond yesteryear; many, many moons beyond. But alas, to Grishnaakh, himself, there was, and will nay ever exist true death, only a change of worlds. And hereupon, so began the elf’s first journey into the Ancestral Realm, since that of Phaedrus’Yar, the Honourary Rex to his own Rexdom during Athera. The Lutauman sat at a rug, reaching into his pockets for a pipe of maple, of which’d previously been imbued with a weak strand of Thunderkrug, from whatever much was left from his mentor’s personal storage. With the burning of herbs, the scent of sage lingered through the heavy air, a sweat coming upon Grishnaakh with the eternal burning of the mind-altering flora, a psychedelia therein materialising in his own cerebral plane of thought, and vision. He brought his fists down upon a set of alligator drums, of which he’d harvested and crafted on his own, the pelt of the poor creature tearing and grating across his long nails with every beat of his free hand against its weak surface. Boom, the drum went, seemingly in unison with the thumping of the Raguk’s heartbeat, the ringing of his ear serving as an instrumental to such. And therein, the chanting began. “Lok Stargûsh-hai agh Kor; gothûrz, dûrburz Kor, ob amut taargus-izg.” He began to chant, either eyelids coming to a close with the beating of the drums. “Thrak-izg taar-thu, krum botlab-û urzkû, agh gaakh-izg irz-tuk mâdûrz.” Slowly so, the elf’s eyelids grew heavier, and heavier with the increasingly loud beating of the drums, the tiresome feeling having come upon him later than he’d anticipated it, earlier upon his day, when the night was still young and prosperous, and when clouds still wafted through the unwavering boredom of the sky high o’er heather. And, as it did the time prior, a near translucent aura manifested under the roof of the shaman’s den, embellishing the air surrounding himself at a slowed pace, however surely so. He’d grown familiar to this sensation, if he remained awake to watch as it managed in a calm struggle, and had grown to a liking of such a manifestation. A tether pulled at him therein, tying back at his stoic form, as a metaphysical noose would, like a burden, the beating of the drums coming to a halt promptly. Grishnaakh’Raguk succumbed to the tether. At first, there was nothing, only chaos reigning the domain of his mind, coupled with a backdrop of pure darkness more akin to onyx than much else. With a blink of an eye, he regained sight; with the thundering of storm clouds beyond, he began to hear; and, with the cool breeze hitting against his face mercilessly, he began to feel. For, as he did one previous time, the Raguk had walked, and did such beyond his own realm of existence. Emerald fumes rose from the ground below himself, that of Gundâr Broshan, cracks in the ground mirroring those of the sky which held a dull jet colour to itself. Above, deep grey clouds loomed ominously, a reason for concern amongst those who seldom frequented Stargûsh’Stroh, however a reassuring sign to himself. Before himself stood the Gate of Kor, shackles of unknown origin feeling against the edges of such, as though to represent the nature of death, in and of itself. The orthodoxy of the world he walked most of his days having left him behind, all oddities and obscurities that may have occurred under the sky of the Ancestral Realm retained a mundanity to them, in the eyes of Grishnaakh, for this was only a matter for further appreciation of the spirits. “Lûk-ob Maehr, broshân urzkû.” A simple lantern of aquamarine fry came to be from the obsidian which formed the walls of Doraz agh Kor, a hand of similar tonality materialising in the air before Grishnaakh, bringing itself down near the ground to pick the elf up, raising him beyond the ceiling to the sky. With a flash of a bedazzled grin, the man scanned the lands before himself, managing a glance at Turu Dobu Ziimarum through his naïveté, Kor having taken notice of such. “Atîg, lok gothûrz Kor.” He replied gently, gates swinging beyond his view at such, little hesitation therein from Kor. “Hon-tû.” The spirit responded at such, dematerialising into a hazy fog as he motioned for the elf to pass through. And so began Grishnaakh’s walk to the Fields of Many Tranquility, passing through several passages along the way, with cloaked sons and daughters of Krug and Maehr watching the high elf expectantly, as though he were to fulfil something in particular. Finally so, the Dominus arrived at whereupon he’d hoped to go, presumably, passing through the buffalo grass of Turu Dobu Ziimarum until he’d managed to see the blindness of an empty corridor. Seldom prospered much in these halls, which took to a projection of utter silence, and darkness, save for the eternal flickering and crackling of fry before himself. As though an endless spiral, and descent into nothing, the walls before Grishnaakh took nothing but further blindness, if any such was possible at all. There was little space to wander amuck to and from, the elf therefore opting to remain stood upon his own two feet. “I have come a long way for you, o’ honourable Clan Father, Skalp’Raguk.” Grishnaakh’Raguk called out expectantly, in the old tongue, the hollowness of the halls instead returning but his own echo in concurrence to his heed of call. Little else became of this silence, the eternal burning of oak continuing to meander in smell and sound. “Broshan, Grishnaakh.” A voice uttered back apathetically, as though not all too eager nor excited, only bored and dull. “Why have you come here, into my own domain?” Such a voice could only be matched to his own might, Skalp’Raguk the Honourable. “I require your guidance, Skalp. Just last cactus day, I spoke with Phaedrus in a spirit walk, with the same request, and yet-” Grishnaakh’s voice echoed through the entirety of the corridor, if there was any such thing as an ending to the constant darkness to it. “I feel just as lost as I did then.” “Speak then, Grishnaakh.” Skalp’s disembodied voice urged for the elf to continue. “I feel lost, as though I do not even know who I am any longer.” He began, a troubled smirk coming upon his visage, in signifying his distress at such a situation, club of bone gripped tightly within his other hand. “All I have ever done is for the sake of pleasing others. I become other people, for such purposes, and now I do not know who I am.” “Nobody asked for you to do so, Grishnaakh.” Further off, Skalp snickered at such naïveté, as though seeing the silliness in such a remark. “Why should you care for the opinions of others, besides yourself?” The voice spat, continuing along its answer. “**** them. You are your own person, Grishnaakh, and you may so go on to do whatever you wish.” “I see.” Grishnaakh placed a hand at his Adam’s apple in a further understanding of Skalp’s philosophy, an uncertainty therein in his neutral, tentative tone. “Well then, perhaps it was high time I searched for who I truly am.” “You are leaving now?” His voice heeded once more, tongue continually brash through the entirety of the interaction, however not at all in a harmful, nor disrespectful sense. “Well then, go make a ******* shrine for me or.. Something. I didn’t die for people to disturb my rest.” With the uttering of a final chuckle, Grishnaakh bobbed his head in reverence to the spirit, stumbling backwards only once before tripping unto the floor in a hurried crash, therein leaving the silence and crimson of the room behind, as he jolted back awake in a cold sweat, amidst the thick, warm air of the shaman’s den.

~The Feast of the One Eyed Prophet~ The cheers of men and women, and the nice crispy smells of cooked meat would ring throughout the entire Wick Wood as the cultists were having a feast. A newly made holiday that would be dedicated in celebration of their One Eyed Prophet. The HRA would make their advances toward the smell of what was believed to be the smells of cooked human flesh as they searched the Wick Wood. Upon reaching the top of one of the mountains, the group would prepare themselves as they lit their arrows in fire and prepared their cocktails for use. Archer Biano would silently stumble down the hill to make sure it was clear as someone shouted, alarming the feasting men as well as a small hunting force of the cult that there was a disturbance or some kind of intruders in the camp. They would immediately drop their fried limbs, sizzled intestines, and many other cooked organs, limbs, etc., and grip their weapons as the men would rush out from the camp. The hunting group would rush out from the forest and immediately go after Archer. It was a rush to get down the hill as the men fought on 3 fronts in total as the fight went on. The forest group would have a standstill against Ruben, Archer, Genieve, and Astoro. But through Astoro’s command they would finish the fight after gaining an upper hand. On the other front, Reyna, Leonid, Joshua, and Sheppard would hold the hill affront the fort through pushing men back into the flaming fortress and holding the uphill advantage. After an intense struggle, and many injuries, they would manage to hold the hill. At the sight of the 30 dead bodies laid sprawled out all around the field, the HRA would let out a big sigh of relief as they saw everyone still to be living. Sadly, their sigh of relief would be met with a sight of death and sadness. During the battle, Archer Biano took heavy injuries as he would bleed out before the medics could reach him. Archer’s final actions being confessing his love to Reyna as he would give her an emerald ring to symbolize his undying love before closing his heavy eyes one last time and resting peacefully. After a long day, the men would call it at an end. Leonid and Astoro would bring one unresponsive captured cultist back to the church as he was ordered to be executed. Astoro would fling a shot off at his head using his heavy crossbow to deliver a quick and painless death to that heretic. Meanwhile, Reyna brought Archer to the same church as a funeral was held and Archer would be buried at the back of the church for ridding the lands of heathens.

~Prologue~ One cold day, the drifter sent out a group of Sellswords to check out a small cave, and none seemingly returned. As the days went on, Bounties would be handed from one hunter to another. Months later, the Drifter wouldn’t know of what had happened to his hunters as none of the parties who got involved in his bounties to search for the missing hunters would find them. As the year would conclude, the Drifter finally decided to stop sending hunters aimlessly out into recon after recon the wick wood to search for what could be deemed as a myth or tale. What really had happened that day in the cave would spark a dark ominous threat, leading people into its grasp of death. This story went a bit as follows... the four brave hunters ventured into the unknown dark cave expecting good pay from a run in the mill bounty, as it was for some reason a tier 3 bounty. The group would find that inside of the cave lied simple traps and other mechanisms to be all over the cave. About an hour would pass as the four struggled to get through trap after trap placed by someone who obviously didn’t like visitors. reaching the lower cave, the four would come across the recover mission that they were tasked with. retrieving one of the Drifter’s supply crates that was stocked with food and stolen by the unknown. Concluding someone probably just left it here to either grab later or leave to rot the group started their walk back up out of the cave as they would be met by a towering figure, that stood 4 meters tall, upon reaching the front of the entrance/exit. The hunters would prepare themselves as they knew they were about to die. After a few moments of the hunters drawing short swords, bows, and mace, the cyclops had already thought up a rather simple plan. Whilst the four brave hunters stood to fight the cyclops, the egotistical giant would pridefully spout out ”Rigut is prop’et...great sav’or to hum’e race” while speaking these words, the 4 Sellswords would look to eachother rather confused as one of them would ask cautiously, still gripping their weapon ”Porphet to our race?” . Rigut would give them a small nod before speaking in a sly Cavemanish tone ”Rigut wont sav’ humee’s unless humee’s help me”. The hunters would watch the prideful one eyed man spout this off, not believing him for a moment. ”Give Rigut meat, and Rigut might help humee’s” the Cyclops went on as the hunters still were quiet unbelieving of the giant as they gripped their weapons not wanting to help this obvious liar. Seeing that the humans still resisted his offers, the cyclops would simply walk out of the way from the cave’s entrance. Though as the hunters left the cave, they would meet the same grizzly fate as just about anyone else who ventured out into that cave and didn’t join this Cyclop’s cult. They would all be struck down , later being used as the Cyclop’s breakfast, lunch, dinner. With this tale ending you might be asking, just how did the Drifter know where to send Sellswords on this first bounty? Well, its quite simple really. The Drifter had heard reports of local people in the Wick wood going missing, and so he sent out one of his Sellswords all on his lonesome to search and find out what has been taking people. After a few months passed, the Drifter grew restless, awaiting for the man’s return he would go out to search himself. Unfortunately the man couldn’t find really anything as he searched through the woods, eventually reaching the bandit camp finding corpses to be missing from the camp, shown by the trails of blood exiting it. Upon finding this, the Drifter would then have a bounty prepared and ready for the next group of Sellswords that came along to his wagon. ~The Two Bird’s Camp~ As the day went by, and Haense Duma would end, Haense soldiers would flock to the Drifter’s wagon expecting a hard bounty based off of what they had been hearing for the past few days. Approaching the wagon, the group of 6 would stand by the Drifter’s wagon awaiting his debriefing. The Drifter would wait until he had took a long puff from his pipe before speaking in his low raspy tone, though anyone could tell whatever was wrong was clearly troubling the man as all of his movements seemed tense and forced. ”Right, I guess this should be enough of you lot.”. The Drifter spoke, leaning back into his wagon before he continued onto the debriefing, ”There have been recent local reports of people going missing near the Wick wood. I sent out one of my sellswords about a month back and he has either failed and is to ashamed to bring himself back here, or he was likely dead because of whatever he found. I sent him out to go near that bandit camp your men sieged a while back. Since he never returned, I decided to go do it myself. Though as I looked around the camp, I only found trails of blood exiting the back of it. I want you lot to go search the area and find some conclusion of what happened to my man.”. And so, the Sellswords were off on their bounty. They found themselves in the camp that had previously been sieged , now becoming a corpse dump it would seem as the group of HRA would see a few men covered in one eyed masks dragging carcass’s of half eaten, rotted humans/animals into the camp and leaving them around the area. Trying to be silent, the HRA hid to the sides of the gates as Ruben Var Ruthern would practice his acting skills and start screaming in pain ”AAARGH, AHH NO NOT MY.” . Ruben left off as the three body dumpers would send out a single one to go over to him. As the man reached him, he drew his knife readying it behind his back as Ruben stood in front of him, towering over the man in his plate as the cultist would ask ”Whats wrong friend?” the cultist asked, prepping his dagger behind his back assuming Ruben was hurt. Tough before the situation escalated any further, Astoro would slit the man’s throat trying to be stealthy as the other two noticed. They would run screaming ”ALERT ALERT, RUN!!” . The HRA would chase down 2 more men killing one of them as they question another that had rolled violently down a hill. From what they could draw from the questioning is that the men of this cult would most likely rather die then reveal their burnt skinned faces to anyone else, and that there was a nearby camp just down the pathway to the left. Going down that road the HRA would start to smell the putrid, stench of rotting corpses that the camp gave off. As the group would start going toward the camp, a few men would be visible behind the small wooden defenses they had though they were very unmoving. as Astoro ordered a few seperate groups to loop around the camp, they would find themselves being ambushed by a giant outnumbering force of the cultists as they were all separated. Astoro and archer would hear their comrades engaging in a fight as they started into the camp and discovering that the men behind the defenses were indeed a trap. though without any second to respond, Astoro and Archer would find themselves ambushed from behind. As the long hard fight went gruesomely on, the HRA would gain the upper hand as they slowly but surely scraped along killing the cultists throughout the fight. As the battle had finished, or so they had thought, the group would then be attacked by a hedge knight as he challenging anyone who wished to step up and fight. His opponent, Astoro, would hold his own against the knight. Though the duel would not end how one might think. It would be rudely interrupted by Archer as he stabbed into the back of the man’s neck. The long hard fight now being over, it would be followed by a big sigh of relief being there no injuries as the HRA went along to search bodies and the camp. They would that every one of the dead cultists held a bottled eye as some sort of ID? They would also find a map locating what seemed to locate 4 other cultist camps. The 6 made started their long walk back to the drifter, once returning would offer the drifter the map and one of the cultist’s bottled eyes. The Drifter would seemingly except this as enough for their payment as his stress and curiosity only grew. The Cultist Camps -In depth- The first one the two bird's camp. Its called this because the cultists that had lured people into the camp would hide in the tree's as the unsuspecting men would wander in as they thought they saw cultists standing behind defenses as when they wandered into the camp, they would find the bodies to be dead as the cultists would come out from the surrounding forests, and kill those who wandered in. The second one is known as the Boiling Pot because the cultists themselves had taken up eaten humans and animals as so did the cyclops. the made a camp for the cooking of the Humans/animals in the wick wood as they had a giant pot underneath a campfire to boil dead creatures. This camp would be somewhat defensible as it's their main point of food making for the followers. The third known as the house of darkness. this house would be placed as a decoy cave to the cyclop's home. upon entering the cave, it would be seen that it is littered by traps of all kinds. It would also hold cages holding bears, wolves, and boars (not greymanes just regular ones). there would be beast handlers that set off cages as well as a few people guarding them. The fourth would be known as the cannibals commons camp. this camp is one based by the Cyclop's cave as it holds a lot of the followers. It would be seen as there main home if they were not staying in the cave with the Cyclops. The fifth camp is known as the burner. known as the area where the skinning and burning of faces happens. It is heavily guarded by some hedge knights and a few others as this camp houses all of their medical cultists. The main Base of Operations is known as the One Eyed Kingdom. the most fortified. known as the Cyclop's main home, there would be walls set up outside of the cave as the inside would be disorienting to those not wearing masks because the moss would cause disorientation -2 to all rolls to anyone inside EXCEPT for the Cyclops. the cave would most likely have traps in it as he was known as a more intelligent Cyclops. a trickster. let me know what you think, its my first time making a forum post for eventlines. 😃

The bee Movie Play. So I have decided to try to do something never done before, create a bee movie play in LotC. This is an idea I had, where we dress up as bees, name a persona as the character names, and have a play. Whether this is a meme is unclear. But I ask all of you to try to help my endeavor in making this. We will need a few things for this though. -Actors, several people to paste in script for their character. -Location, a place to host this. What would be best is if staff could approve us having it in a protected area so terrorists or such can’t sabotage this. -An audience, I am doing this for you, LotC players, to watch and enjoy. I will host a poll in the discord server for the time and date. Join the discord! https://discord.gg/ddWh5m Credit: HighOOCly/Deleted account for inspiration, and Neo for inspiration. These are some of my best LotC friends.

Scribed in remembrance of those fallen in the defensive effort against the Scyfling forces. Geast I Ve Fitsker As the smoke clears and the casualties are counted, a lone fighter hangs high in the sky. His comrades gather their wounded and rest their lost, trekking along a beaten path to their home of New Reza. As they venture through the lush and lively Haeseni countryside the fighter follows along, shortly behind his brothers as they return to the walls of the city. The fighter hangs his head as he knows his time is up and he no longer can walk with his men, with one final look over New Reza he nods and makes his leave. The fighter retreats over the sky scraping Steel Hills and into the dense and quiet Wick Wood. He is at peace with what has come of him and knows it was for the better of his country and people. As the fighter slowly closes his eyes looking over the land he called home, one final thought fled his mind and escaped his lips in a soft mutter “Krusae Zwy Kongzem”. With this he was ready, his soul being claimed and returned to the Seven Skies. But behind he left, a single mortal possession. One he could not take with him and was forced to leave behind. Sojoernaal I Ve Fitsker The shouting begins and the screaming is heard, as the Haeseni holds their ground strong and true. A flood of Scyfling scum rushing out towards the stout walls of the Fort at Metterden, this would be the true test of strength. Javelin quickly flew overhead, shattering shields of the Crows one by one, sending ballista fire back in response. Their motive to take this land remains unclear to most, but this will not stop the men of gold and black as we fight until our last breath, and in response “Krause Zwy Kongzem” we shout until our voice cannot be heard any longer. We fight for the spirit of Haense and the protection of our heritage, this land gifted to us by Godani and protected by the soldiers of those who inherited it. It was not long though until the Scyfling horde began creeping in on the ravine that held our brave cavalrymen. They through everything at us, but we prevailed even lost in a daze of confusion and pain simply because the fight was not over. As javelin continued to fly towards the proud Haeseni men, we gave a constant fight back until the moment we break. Our men falling one by one and there was no telling how this would end, so what could we do but fight. My life before theres, I will not not this kingdom fall under some barbarian claiming this is his land. Bralt I pity you, thinking we will fall so easily. So hear this in fear “Krusae Zwy Kongzem”. Ser Siegmund Wick

Hangman’s promise “Big Tony, Big Money.” - Big Tony My figureheads have grown quite the liking of the people of Haense, I even allowed them to teach the HRA a couple of things on the fields of war. I’ve been sending my prayers to up above ever since I got word about the war, blessing the blades of the Haensemen and cursing the arrows of the Suticans, hoping their projectiles would miss the throats of my comrades. Sadly enough, the leadership of the Orenian Empire did not have the sufficient funds to buy us out of the Sutican war. May my brothers coated in green watch my back as I take up the mantle of a leader in this war, may my friends from Haense toss their weapons to the side when I face them on the battlefield, for then they will be spared. Gold and glory, my comrades… gold and glory Once this contract is signed, my men will raise their blades alongside the poor folk of Sutica, who just want to protect their land. It saddens me, the biggest fish going after one of the weakest fish. The Agreement The Suticans: -The Sutican leadership will hand 70 000 minas to The Hangmen. (50% up front) -The Sutican leadership will hand The Hangmen a simple plot of land for when they are forced to move out of this realm. -If there is any way to spare The King of Haense and his people, an effort must be made to make sure that there will always be an option for the Haensemen to get out of the war, safely. The Hangmen: -The Hangmen will aid Sutica and their allies in any militairy exercises against the Holy Orenian Empire. -The Hangmen Keep will serve as an outpost for the forces of Sutica and their allies. -The Overseers of The Hangmen will lend Sutica all of their knowledge regarding waging war, becoming a part of the core of the leadership of the conflict. “I’m sorry, comrades of my people. coin comes first. May our paths never cross during these troubling times.” Signed,

[!] A fancy piece of parchment paper would be boarded along the Druidic Grove, as well as other places such as the Queen’s Isle. It seems important, so you decide to read it! ”Greetings! My name is Stephen. You may know me as the dashingly handsome, charming, charismatic, reliable Wonk- and by far the people’s most iconic personality in all of Arcas. Well. I’ve come to say that even great toads such as I can make mistakes. It seems, while testing out some recipes in my (TRADEMARKED!!) Magic Cauldron to create infinite resources of fancy rocks, I accidentally created an entire ecosystem of beasts fused with the things! Oops! As usual, I am not responsible for any of my creations maiming, harming, killing, murdering, disemboweling, or eating and/or cannibalizing any Descendants. Or anything in general. This is simply a notice telling those who live away from the major nations to be careful when travelling around! Who knows what you may find around the corner! If you see any of these creatures, please call a professional to exterminate them for you. You can keep whatever you get from their corpses I guess, but give me creative liberties if anyone asks where you got it from. Yours truly- Stephen the Wonk.” It seems ‘Stephen’ has provided an artist’s depiction of one of the creatures for you.

Although it would be incredible; I’d just like to say now that I’m NOT expecting this to be accepted. I just had the idea not too long ago and wanted to share it. Basically a throng of lunatics led by Mr. Beautiful completely take over the city of Helena. The guards are imprisoned; criminals are set free. The gates are shut; no one comes in and no one gets out. The town will be in a state of unqualified pandemonium; everyone is on their own. Trapped in this engirdled mobocracy swayed by a psychopathic begetter who will be sitting in his chair; laughing his ass off until somebody stops him. Discord me if you’d like to hear more.

The Funeral of Prince Solomon Napoliza Issued on the 7th of The Grand Harvest, 1769 From the office of the Grand Lady of Vileux, Princess Dowager Sapphira Loretta Napoliza Grand Princess Luciana Maria Napoliza of Vitenna, Duchess of Fonsi and Baroness of Vileux, is doleful to announce the presumed passing of her son, Prince Solomon Napoliza, Count of Pestilles, after a maritime accident off the coast of the Korvassa. Her Serene Highness has seen fit to entrust Prince Solomon’s eldest child and heir with his titles, making her Princess Julienna Maria Napoliza, Heir-Apparent of Vitenna and Countess of Pestilles and Baroness of d’Alence. She has delegated the arrangements of her precious son’s funeral to his widow, Princess Dowager Sapphira Loretta Napoliza, Countess Dowager of Pestilles and Baroness Dowager of d’Alence, who mourns the loss of Prince Solomon as his mother does. Her Serene Highness has decreed that all citizens shall wear black and all shops shall be closed on the day of the funeral to pay homage to the late Prince Solomon Napoliza. The late Prince Solomon Napoliza, Count of Pestilles and Baron of d’Alence. Those especially invited: Friends and family of Prince Solomon Napoliza The Freed People of Vitenna The King of Morsgrad, his family, and retinue The Sultan of Korvassa, his family, and retinue The People of Al-Faiz and the Korvassa The Maheral of Haelun’or, his family, and retinue Captain Peter d”Arkent and his family at the request of Princess Dowager Sapphira Loretta The event shall include: A parade through the streets of Vitenna, put on by La Coeranza di Vitenna A mass held by Bishop Brownfolk in La Chiesa del Perdono The burial of Prince Solomon Napoliza, Count of Pestilles and Baron of d’Alence The funeral is to be held on the 6th of The Deep Cold, 1770. Tuesday the 26th of May, at 3 PM EST per STATO e GLORIA, HER SERENE HIGHNESS, Grand Princess Luciana Maria Napoliza Duchess of Fonsi and Baroness of Vileux HER HIGHNESS, Princess Dowager Sapphira Loretta Napoliza Countess Dowager of Pestilles and Baroness Dowager of d’Alence Grand Lady of Vileux

To the Citizenry of Arcas, Events shift quickly in the world, and many times we miss important matters and proceedings without knowing. Due to this, the Principality of Vira Bay extends to you a humble and personal invitation to the coronation of Zaos Val'Ullr-Puerir, first High Prince of Vira Bay. Proceedings will begin the 17th of Malin’s Welcome, 1763, and followed by a celebration in the local bar and eatery, the Drunken Sailor Tavern. [OOC NOTE: Time: 4pm EST, Thursday April 9, 2020] Signed, Advisor to the High Prince of Vira Bay, Miray Palmer.

There had been many a month since the Terror Beast has dissipated from the land. It seemed the caves had been livelier then usual during this time of rest for the adventuring 'Ker. In time they came to befriend the great bats of Fiandria of which their ancestors had once hunted. At the flank of the Matriarch's wings sat a small fist sized bats clinging to her fur. While they were small and recently born they seemed strong and relatively weened. She eyed Delphi and Twilight with equal interest. Delphi eye's flicks over the small ones, smiling softly. "I've not ever met your young lings, Miss..." (Miss the name she has given the Matriarch during the years they had grown close) she'd reach out hesitant for a moment to pet the 10ft tall bat. The Matriarch's ears flickered with a seldom seen fondness at the touch. After some time her gaze wandered to Twilight where she seemed almost to ask her to come forward with a fan of her wing Twilight waved at them with a small smile "Hello little ones" she then looked to the Matriarch "They're beautiful" the 'Ker said stepping forward "My, seems the matriarch had become a well mother in this time" Gusiam said as he looked back to the grave of Chocolate, one of the two bats that has died during the fight As all things end so do new things begin. With a push of her wing a young female bat was offered to Delphi and a male to Twilight. The rest of the bats clung ever yet to their mother and it was clear her intentions. Delphi took this young bat into her arms, holding her gently in her arms "You're sending them away with us, Miss...?" The bats all seemed to give out hyena like laughter at her words as though it was the most obvious of things. In rest, only one other alike clung to the matriarch. It was clear indication of their genders there needs only be one leader in a group of bats. As such these two groups would have meant to go make their own homes elsewhere. Twilight takes the baby bat with a soft smile holding it in her arms like the baby it was "Thank you.” Delphi bowed her head light, shifting the weight of the young matriarch in her arms "Estelle- Do you like that, Miss? An old word in our eleven tongue for to trust...We'll see to it that all will be well" Both of the young bats clung onto there respective 'Ker as though they were their new mothers. The Matriarch seemed accepting and all was well. It was only time that would tell what would become of these new bats and their new home. Delphi reached out with her other hand, gently rubbing her head "We'll miss you all... not going to forget how you helped us, how you saved us" she'd smile Twilight nods to Delphi "Thank you for everything, I'll never forget this as long as I live" she'd then look over to Sneeze, the bat she had grown the fondest of "I'll miss you the most my boy" Sneeze let out a comedic sneeze as a last good bye. Delphi cradled her bat gently, humming softly "Estelle,Estelle..." she'd sing Twilight looked down to her 'new son' "I'm going to name him Silverling..." https://imgur.com/a/lkWaZ12 (bat boi pic) (This is my first form post, which as just me copy the emotes that were said. I’m trying to work on a other posts as well. I didn’t take the rp date so for oc context it was 3/17/2020 around 6-7 pm i think. thank you so much to Julius for the events he gave us, this was the most fun I had on Lotc in a while and I’m so happy I came back for this)

I was looking back at old forum feuds and suddenly had a nostalgic feeling to try and find a lost Aegis map. Most of my efforts over the forums were to no avail, but apparently a quick search on the Google succeeded. Have fun exploring the past ? (Also might want to update this, https://files.lordofthecraft.net/maps/) [!] A Shaman performing a spirit walk through the lands of Aegis Krugmar

[!] Before you, a picture was drawn upon on a scroll, a fine and lenient framing would complement the ancient scenery, which invited the beholder to what the artist depicts Arcadia as. Upon the back of the drawing a letter was attached... ልዪርልዕጎል ?? ???????? ?? ?? ?? ??????? ????????? ????????????? ???? ??????? ???? ??? ???? ??? ?? ?????, ??? ??????? ??????? ?????? ?? ????? ???? ??? ????? ?? ???????? ??????, ???? ?????? ??? ??????????? ???????? ???? ????? ????. ??? ???? ?? ????? ????? ??? ??????? ?????????? ??? ???? ????? ??. ???, ????? ?????????? ??? ???? ?????? ???? ?? ????? ????? ?? ??????? ?? ? ????? ???? ??? ???? ?????????. ?? ???????? ?? ???? ????????? ??????, ????????? ??? ??? ???????? ?????? ?? ????, ???? ???? ?? ?????????? ?? ????? ????? ???? ??? ?????? ??? ????? ?? ????, ?? ??? ??????????? ?????? ???? ???? ?? ?? ?? ???? ?????? ???? ??? ???????. ????????? ?????????? ???? ???? ??? ?????????? ?? ??? ???????? ????????? ?? ??????, ???? ???? ??????????? ?? ???????? ??? & ???, ??????? ??? ???????? ???? ??? ???? ????, ?? ?????? ????? ???? ??? ?? ???? ??? ????? ?? ???? ??????? ???? ????. ???? ???? ? ???? ???? ??? ???? ?????? ???? ?? ?????? ????? ??????????, ?? ?????????? ??? ?????? ???? ?? ?????? ???? ?????????? ?? ??? ?????? ???? ???????? ??? ?????????. ??????? 1703 ԹՐƙԾՏ [OOC-Info] This is the final part of the naval eventline that I’ve run on Arkas, which means giving back to the you guys. Every player that participated, has a crew or is interested in other naval related activities, is invited to join the ocean-hub (Ancient Sea Ruin). One can think of it as a sort of event-charter, where there will be objectives, specialized bounties, and lore to discover and be written, all while having the freedom to do so on your own. As mentioned, the only requirement is involvement in the naval storyline, which will net you a spot to ‘freely’ decorate and live with your persona in the event-charter, while also staying at a close pulse with the storyline itself. I invite you to do DIY Events or make this your new favourite fishing spot... For further information message me on the Forums, Discord or your leave your Nickname & Persona’s Name in the thread (perhaps with a nice roleplay text to accompany it)

First ‘proper’ ship seen on the expedition. Circa 1715 “The smallest landlubbers, callin’ themselves the halflins received a bounty that would lead them to the shipwreck, as they ventured out from brandybrook’s decks they would quickly find out the shipwreck was no fluke and that another ship had been shattered to pieces there while trying to retrieve the much acclaimed treasure… Was it the aggression of other ocean-travelling folk or just another casualty of the forceful tides that often brought a wet demise to unsuspecting sailors… ? The warning remained, but with the demise of the other ships a lucky group of landlubbers have taken the opportunity to check out what sweet loot these remains had to offer. They were greeted with relics of long past lives and the unwelcoming otherworldly presence of an apparition that had formed from the many lost souls that drowned or died any other horrible death upon the ocean. Seeing that everything eventually sinks down to the ocean floor to ultimately rot away, the shipwreck preserved itself as a warning to all those who are foolish enough to venture out into the unknown seas unprepared. A storm was coming... Luckily the Pirates were giving the landlubbers who received the bounty missive instructions and cared for their safe travel across the seas. Although with the whole population of ocean-dwellers on the line they had no other way but to cooperate with the main-land centric descandants, who were currently in the turmoils of war. Cap’n Octatre’ was send out with a small but dedicated crew to establish contact with the crews that were able to sail out far into the ocean. Far behind the high tides, where rocky formations would carve the floor beneath the surface, a menace would slowly inch closer. It was a sinister creature that would devour everything in its vicinity. As the creature was a very slow organism, the ocean-dwellers & descendants alike wouldn’t know about it at all until its large unsaturated hunger would mess with the whole eco-system. of the uncharted seas Large amounts of flat, marbly bone substance would wash up from the depths of the sea. It was completely dead material, preserved in form, but devoid of life. Once a living organism was turned to dry bones, the salvaged lifeforce would be absorbed by the creature. With the now established contacts to the mainland the pirates hope to salvage the ancient remains of the precursors of the Arkos seas to put an end to this terrible creature, and hopefully free the ancient civilisation trapped beneath a blanket of bones….” *The old man would sign the book, on the last page was a drawing of the shipwrecks at sea. He went to the library of dragur to publish his observation upon sea.*

Seeing as how the previous Comedy Night was so successful, Henry Clericus is proud to host it again at Westmarches, Eagle’s Beak! No sign-up or form to fill, just jump on stage and joke away. Info: Snow’s Maiden, 1731. ((Wednesday, 28th of August, 2019)) at Westmarches, Eagle’s Beak. Directions: From Helena: Turn right, when approaching the three-way, turn right again and head straight, crossing over the wooden bridge. Continue on the road towards Haelun’or. Soon enough you will turn left, and finally you will arrive at Laanhold, Westmarch! (( XYZ: -872 // 62 // -1723 )) A map is attached to the post with a red dot labeled as Helena and a green dot, presumably Westmarch.

The Wedding of Rathamalion & Kardi The Bells are ringing. Turtledoves fly around. People come in masses to watch the feast.Severeal Doves would spread this Letter to all of the allied Nations of Renatus . My dear Allies of the world i am so proud to finally announce my Wedding to all of you I am going to marry at the 3 Elvenday of this week and me and my Fiance wanted to invite all of you to our Wedding afterwards our closest friends will be able to join us to a little party afterwards. Food and drinks will served from me. Some Infos would be down there When : The 3rd Elvenday this year 7 pm CET Where : Capital of the Khardasi Who : All allied Nations of the Empire ♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤ ____________

Put screenshots from the brutal Swamp event that killed a bajillion people in the comments. I personally only got screenshots from the beginning and end of the event, but I’ll include them all regardless. Massive rally on the Spicy Shrimp ship in the docks of Brandybrook Heading out towards the swamps Swimming across a river on our way to the swamp Forming a shield-wall with Scorpions and mages in the front waiting for the infantry to advance See that circle of dwarves? They all died mere moments after we arrived The mist disabiling a good portion of the army (I forgot to emote putting on my mask) Getting dragged to safety while the brutal battle begins in the background After a while, the fighting kills half of the army and injures many more. My character’s just barely clinging to life in this screenshot ((I had to eat lunch, so I missed a lot of the battle)) Being dragged out of the swamp by retreating soldiers. We’ll get ‘em next time folks! Now we know that it’s VERY IMPORTANT to put on a mask, and we know to avoid friendly fire and have new ideas on how to fight the faceless. There’s no doubt that the next rally will face a much less grisly fate. If you guys have any more screenshots, please put them in the comments. Thank you, and have a good night!

Players/Group Requesting: Kaz'Ulrah dwarves What kind of Event are you looking for?: Old school dungeon / monster killing. There general area & antagonists are set, and there are some details to include. Other than that, the ET member taking it has full freedom. Approximately, what time/date you want the Event to take place?: Next Weekend (14th, 15th or 16th) Organizer's Discord: Ronald Reagan#9284

EVENT REQUEST FORMAT Players/Group Requesting: The Halflings of Dunshire What kind of Event are you looking for?: The staff who wish to participate disguising themselves as animals and running a race through Dunshire so that the Festival-goers may place bets on them. Real quick, real simple. Approximately, what time/date you want the Event to take place?: Around 4:30 PM EST today, although the time could vary a bit depending on how the Festival goes. Organizer's Discord: https://discord.gg/BRhJrHM For Reference: Also, it might be nice to get a little Event Message broadcast to Atlas about the Festival beginning.