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Found 37 results

  1. ZhulikAltWithBadRepRatio

    The Embarassment of Haense, 1668

    The Embarrassment of Haense Issued and Confirmed by His Royal Majesty, the King of Renatus-Marna, Aurelius of the House of Horen, 13th of Malin’s Welcome, 1668 TO OUR BELOVED SUBJECTS, This Saint’s Day we have delivered a swift and bludgeoning blow to the morale of Toby-Junior’s coalition. One of the crutches of the coalition, Haense, was greatly embarrassed by their inability to maintain order and safety within their own coronation. For those who are currently un-informed with the transpiring of this Saint’s Days events, the Crown of Renatus-Marna thusly provides you a timeline summary of what occurred and how it occured. The Crown of Renatus-Marna dispatched its Heavy-Infantry to engage with and cause disruption within The Duchy of Haense’s coronation ceremony. The Renatian Heavy-Infantry made contact within the throne room. Outnumbered two to one, Renatus swiftly and efficiently butchered all those within-- Dukesguard and engaged partisans alike. The newly dubbed Duke of Haense, Franz Barbanov, was captured following the defeat of he and his Dukesguard. Whilst dragging the Duke of Haense back to the proud Capital of Senntisten, a Haensetic/Courlandic relief force engaged the Heavy-Infantry with equal numbers, and too, were defeated. Duke Franz Barbanov, having been brought before his Majesty, King Aurelius I, was offered then offered gracious terms for surrender and exit to this war. Being stubborn, and acting akin to a sycophant, Duke Franz Barbanov was swiftly executed by the Renatian Crown in front of dozens of witnesses. Thus, Renatus issues this missive to all vassals, allies and enemies of the realm in order to reinforce the victory held this day. Though it is unfortunate that the Duchy of Haense is stubborn, let the record show that should Duke Franz Barbanov roam the streets as if he were among the living, that he is a necrotic of the highest caliber and is immediately recommended for excommunication and Pontifical denunciation. Additionally, the Crown of Renatus-Marna has decided to alter its acknowledgement of Haense as a Kingdom. As the reader may have read, The Kingdom of Renatus has now thusly dubbed Haense a Duchy. The reasoning behind this decision is rather simple. Haense has failed, with their newly crowned ‘King’, to defend their own coronation-- which by Renatian standards makes the King and the Kingdom illegitimate. Additionally, Haense makes no independent decisions as it is currently being used as a proxy for King Tobias-Junior of Courland, making them a large vassal. As such, the Kingdom of Renatus views Haense as a Duchy within Courland. Should anyone criticize about Renatus mistaking Haense for a Duchy on the basis of error, let their stupidity be known and may all laugh at them. In Nomine Dei, HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Aurelius I of the House of Horen, King of Renatus, Marna, Mardon, Salvus, Seventis, Savoy, and Norland, Duke of the Crownlands, Cascadia, Avar, and Frederica, Count of Sennisten, Alamar, Frederica, Thesmer, Thelen, Lorath, and Cantal, Baron of Darkwood, Gravelhold, Fidei Defensor, Protector of the Heartlanders, etcetera. OOC PROOF OF EVENTS https://www.twitch.tv/videos/273623609?t=02h30m13s
  2. (Not to be confused with the Horde) The place depicted is the Thagurz Grizh, a sacred cavern created by the current Ramgoth, Vorgak, in order to show his appreciation and respect towards his ancestors. Shrines of the Greater Ancestral Spirits have been carved alongside the walls of the Thagurz Grizh, and inside the skull found when digging down, a Shrine of Krug, the Greatest of all Ancestors, has been set as well, thus, the ancient ones may shift their attention for just a mere moment, to witnessed what the lost Uruk has been trying to offer them. The blood of 50 bodies, all gathered inside the blood pool in the middle of the cavern, deep beneath the surface. The heads have been settled upon pikes along the path towards and inside the Thagurz Grizh. The offering stood there for months, and the purpose of it, as is understood from its name, dry blood in the old tongue, was the process of the offered blood to turn dry before the ancestors could have set their eyes upon it, yet it seems, they have not yet did such. The Thagurz Grizh is meant to be a monument of longevity, the first to be contacted should have been the first two of all of the Greatest’s cubs, Rax and Gorkil. Vorgak’s mind ran dry itself, after far too much time without guidance, and started telling himself “Maybeeh..mrghm...dah uld bruddahz, dey gruk dis am nub enuff! Huw kan mi, uffer mohre? Nub..it kan nub beh, skah - agh lat?! Zhat dah trap lat!!” Vorgak’s own brain was fooling itself, starting to hear voices around him all the time, either when he was walking his usual circuits along the Desert, either when he was meditating, he was never alone, or at least...that is what he believed. The separation of the Orc kin has also played tricks on him, it seems, he did not think to good of it. He was of a mind with his fellow brothers, things could have been better, but deep he understood that the Orcs needed something to wake them up, and truly unite themselves under one single paternal figure, Krug. Thus Vorgak made his way towards the Thagurz Grizh, which is settled nearby Krugmar (wonkawoods). He did not enter the sacred cavern, rather he stood at the top, peering over the edge of the open whole, facing the massive pool of blood itself. He did not hesitate to rise on his feet and speak one final chant out of his mouth before...before meeting his very damnation. “Frumz, bugdizg latz, anork uzg gorbugudlab ! Traumug mi.” (Spirits, I call upon you, take me to your lands so I may work in your name! Guide me.) The Uruk leaped through the opened gap and fell to his doom where he had crashed into the walls of the pool, his very own blood now being offered to the ancestors. May the Ancestrals shape his eternal fate.
  3. Ragnio

    The Atlasian Naval Guild

    The Atlasian Naval Guild was founded within the realm of Atlas, after the old Sutican City was nearly abandoned by it’s citizens and the leaving of the Trading Princess Lily, allowing those without a place to stay to find a new home to rest and to life at. Unlike most other nations the founders of the Atlasian Naval Guild were known as fairly good sailors and interested scientists, trying to explore the oceans of Atlas and it’s surroundings. While their ideal was it to explore the oceans they also became home to many people around them, steadily growing and expanding their research fleet. Purpose of the Guild While many Guilds are focusing on trading, giving the opportunity to learn a form of magic or just to offer some work the purpose of the Atlasian Naval Guild is different and unique in it’s own. The main purpose of the guild is it to explore the oceans of atlas and to find possible new lands to stay at. While doing so the guild is also trying to do their research of the currents, which are flowing through the oceans of the new realm, finding the fastest one to use for future traveling and sailing. Another big part of the guilds daily work is the research of new organisms, including plants and animals alike. New species can often help understand the current situations in certain regions and can also be used as materials for all kind of stuff, examples being medicine, smithing materials and far more. This is afterward leading to experiments to test possible new tools and to conclude further research on the different topics. Safety Safety is a rather important aspect for each member in the Atlasian Naval Guild, especially due to their dangerous missions. As such everyone is warned that the Guild isn’t having peaceful missions at all, but also rather dangerous ones. Due to those circumstances every member of the crew should be able to fight and be steady on a rough sea. Living Space/Base MS Vaile - The MS Vaile is a strong, nimble and fast Gallion Grade Vessel, housing around twenty crew members. The Vessel is build under the Captain and co Captain Vahryu Daluon, and Julia Abernathy. The MS Vaile can travel at the speed of 27 knots, able to withstand the Weather of the cold Arctic and hot summer winds of the equator. The mast would be made of a strong oak with Iron fittings and the sails would be made of a thin material dyed with grays and greens, the crews quarters holds around twenty eight bunks and the captains quarters holds two bunks, excluding the medical bay and area for livestock. Jobs/Tasks While many different roles are existing each member of the group is trying to help each other by handling main tasks, such as cooking or just cleaning the ship. As such most tasks are the following ones: Cook - Preparing dinner/food for the crew, while keeping a close eye on rations and drinkable water. The cook should be able to handle a knife even in the roughest of seas...and hopefully not lose a finger or too! Cartographer - Creating maps for the guild is an important job, since the guild is always trying to find and explore new lands. However, without creating a map of the new landmass and the surrounding waters such explorations are rather useless, since no one else may be able to find the land again. As such the cartographer needs to create fairly good maps, allowing the crew to find the islands once again. Secretary - The secretary is in charge of the general documentary of the expeditions and tasks fulfilled by the crew. Recording every single day on the sea is of importance, mostly to keep a fine grip on time, date and other important factors. As such the secretary should be able to write and have a talent for organizing. Steerman - Steering the ship with confidence and experience as the steerman guides the crew through the waves to their predetermined destination! A good eye is needed to see through the currents and shallow waters, sailing the ship to new lands to explore. As such the steerman should have some experiences in sailing and how currents are normally acting. Sailor - The sailors of the ship are helping wherever they can, either by hissing the sails or by cleaning the deck. Normally this job isn’t requiring a lot of talent to do, yet, it is one of the more important jobs, since everything is depending on the sailors. Medic - Healing the wounded and sick is the work of the medic, often saving many lives in dangerous situations. As such the medic should have a great knowledge in medicine and should be able to operate in a rather small medical area. Goals The Atlasian Naval Guild has several important goals to achieve, mostly focusing around explorations and experimentation on different naval-related topics. As such the most common goals for the guild are: Finding new land Finding new plants and animals Completing research on different topics, mostly the synergy of different species Preserving the ocean life Discovering ancient sea structures Finding treasures Application MC-Name: Character Name: Age: Race: Hometown: Possible Goals to achieve: Wanted Role/Job: Discord: Member List Captain Vahryu Daluon (@Ragnio) Julia Abernathy(@Space_Gene) Steerman Gilondir Oronar Frostbeard (@SanderGamerNL) Cartographer Jakhatir Kegbrew Grandaxe (@iAssey) Secretary Quillian Caerme’onn (@Torkoal_Tom) Sonya(@EagleEyeKK) Medic Balin Anvilaxe Grandaxe (@TheDarkAngel2308) Cook Hekkaes ‘Anvilaxe’ Goldhand (@JokerLow) Sailor Kraggomi Anvilaxe (@Leomits) Eledar Haler'thilln (@Aythinae) Ben Ethil (@HurferDurfe1) Bolon Stormtaker (@DarkElfs) Abdul Mubdee (@Booklight12) Ravondir Torena (@Ravondir) Cassian (@Svaknir) Allied Forces Vizmak Brigade
  4. “By right of flame” REGARDING THE COURLANDIC RAT, 1666 Issued and confirmed by His Excellency, Jozsef of the House of Kovachev, 6th of the Sun’s Smile, 1666 TO THE CROWN AND ALL WHO IT MAY CONCERN, Once more, the Courlandic rats crawl out of their holes, to wreak havoc upon the realms of Man. They seek to uproot the established nations of humanity, solely for the purpose of fueling the ambitions of the House of Staunton. Our mistake - always, is allowing them to establish a foothold. Our ancestors have fought the House of Staunton for ages, dating far back to the days of the Riga War. Our House first saw the Staunton scourge for what they were; a blight upon the world. They are deceitful and opportunistic, cowardly and treacherous. Those who would turn their back to them, would sooner find a knife plunged into their back. They cannot be allowed to roam any longer. The House of Staunton must be dismantled - once and for all. As such, we do earnestly reaffirm our allegiance to the Crown of Renatus-Marna. We will take all steps necessary to subdue the insurrection festering in the lands of Ostmark; the lands once held by Eimar the Fat, until his family bent over the table for the Stauntons. As any good man of Carnatian descent would, we pledge to support His Majesty’s war effort, joining him with the Kovgorod levy, our resources, and our wealth. To the Northern Houses Any proper Northman ought to answer the clarion call to quell the Stauntonic menace once again. To our kinsmen in Haense, let us not forget about the atrocities committed by the Stauntons towards our people. To the Rutherns, let us not forget the time the young Joren and his retinue were cut down without second thought in the Courlandic palace. To the Vanirs, let us not forget they drove your House into exile in the unjust seizure of Kraken’s Watch. And to the Barbanovs of Haense, let us not forget the war crimes of the Great Northern War condoned by the Stauntons. While the Crowns of Renatus-Marna and Haense have not been always been on the best of terms, we do hope the Kingdom of Haense does not turn a blind eye to the Courlandic transgressions upon our people. As our forefathers have once cried, Curonia delenda est. BY RIGHT OF FLAME, His Lordship, Jozsef of the House of Kovachev, Baron of Kovgorod and Lord of Gryphon’s Roost, His Excellency, Carlovac of the House of Kovachev, Grand Knight of the Crown of Renatus-Marna, Lord-Commander of the Order of the Royal Dragon
  5. Birth of the Orison Ritual Site of the first Guardian Grotto, a harrowing, yet beautiful reminder of the death of a druid. “And she appeared before them, those troubled minds, and the air was alive with sound of nature. She gave them a reassuring smile, reaching a hand out, as if to offer help. All was well.” It is a well known truth among druii and those that study the aspects or their faith, that devout druids who die ascend to the realm of the fae, to serve out their days as Soulbound Servants and Guardian Spirits. In the realm of fae, these spirits of passed druids are revered by all as wise men and oracles. Creatures of the fae flock from every corner of the realm to hear their words of wisdom. In the realm of fae, they are considered demigods, chosen of the aspects themselves. (The Fae Realm) In death, these sages reflect the souls of what they were in life. For those that sought the taste of battle in defense of the balance, they may find themselves as a spirit of fury, blessing those of the Twilight Bound. A gentler druid, a healer perhaps, may find themselves as a mending spirit of the Dayward Way. All these such spirits are revered amongst the fae creatures of the world. For those most dedicated servants of the aspects, there exists a special opportunity in life, during the most unlikeliest of times. That is, to become a Guardian Spirit capable of traversing betwixt the eternal forest and the mortal realm. These most devout servants may find themselves visited by one of these spirits to be taught the highly secretive ritual. With this knowledge, they are given the secret that they need to become one of them, to be given the ability in the afterlife to make the journey and return as a Guardian Spirit of the Descendents. However, this ritual may only be done on the brink of death. In their last moments, a druid may send out a final plea, one last wish to stay on Æos, on this place that they’ve so desperately tried to protect through their whole lives. And then, they must perform the ritual. The Discovery She saw blood everywhere. It stained the grasses around her with a deep crimson hue, glinting in the sunlight. And she looked to the side, seeing a bloodied bone knife cast aside, lying among the leaves a few feet away. And then it shot through her, an agonizing pain in her abdomen and she cried out. She looked down, and in her arms was her heart; a crying babe, wrapped in a green shawl. And her eyes slowly shut, fluttering desperately to try and stay awake as she faded into the cold embrace of death. Awaiti sat up in her bed, drenched with sweat. She rested a hand against her stomach, flat as it always was. The woman turned, pushing up out of the bed to stand, staggering over to a mirror in the room. She gripped the sides of the table, looking into her reflection with a silent, but bewildered expression. Her amber eyes stared right back at her, betraying only fear. But that was all. There was no blood, no screaming, no crying babe to hold. It left her unsettled, and compelled her to grab her cloak. And with that, she swiftly exited the room. The flames in the brazier of the shrine always shone the brightest at night, casting light in every which direction, onto the grass, onto the statues of the aspects, and now onto Awaiti, who was kneeling before it, bowed deeply in prayer. “Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your blessing unto me… preserve me…” “Father, father please. Have mercy on your faithful servant…” She pleaded like this for hours and hours, until the first rays of daybreak split the air, casting shadows of the leaves on the shrine. And on and on she pleaded, tears staining her weary face. “I don’t want to go! Not yet!” And her eyes were filled with light as she keeled over, blacking out against the cold morning ground. What followed barely made sense to her, flashes of white and green light, the crying of a babe. Visions of light took shape as fae energies and her dream came back to her. She was suddenly on the ground again, covered in blood. She was screaming, crying out in agony. And once more, her eyes began to flutter off to the cold and gentle dark. “Breathe, child,” She heard a gentle voice call to her. “Let go,” said a strong voice. And she shut her eyes for but a moment. And then opened them with white light coursing through. In an instant, the place around her was filled with a brilliant flash of fae light, all erupting from Awaiti. Flowers sprung up, creating brilliant displays of red and blue and purple. Trees sprouted almost instantly, tearing up the earth. But all was silent for Awaiti. She could hear no voices, feel no life. Life itself had all but left her battered form. Instead, it was in the world around her. And she drifted off. Her eyes shut once again, and Awaiti, just as she had in her dream, passed on from this world. But then, she was truly alive. There was warmth, and it was good. Awaiti looked down at her own mortal form, and smiled, knowing that all would be well for her child. They would live, and go on. Her eyes flung open, and she was back on the cold, hard ground. Awaiti stirred, knowing now what she had to do. And so she stood, going home to her bed to await that fateful day. The Orison Ritual Druids look on as a hierophant passes on, the air lighting up with fae mists as the energies ripple through, causing flowers and other life to spring up! circa 1650, colorized “Mother, mother please… father, look down on me… I want to be brave... I don’t want to die!” The ritual itself was used a great many years ago, in ages long forgotten, as a secret technique used amongst some of the most powerful and wise druids, in order to continue passing on their knowledge and guiding their people even after their own death. Since, it has fallen from minds, into myth, and then into legend, and then forgotten entirely. It has only resurfaced recently, discovered by Sister Awaiti Aureon, who saw glimpses of the ritual during a vision of her own death. Flashes of light, blasts of pure fae energy that rippled through nature, allowing life to flourish in its wake. These visions stayed with her throughout her whole life. What Awaiti saw was her own body expelling all of its druidic energies in one single moment. This act kills the druid immediately, but the blast of fae energy allows anyone in the vicinity to feel the effects of a fae ring for the day. The very wave of energy that is expelled from the druid has a similar effect to a fae ring, allowing those around them to hear the countless voices of nature for the rest of the day. It would emblazon druidic runes onto the stones around them, growing large trees and bushes almost instantly in the now hallowed land. A circle of flowers would sprung up all around in a spiral, creating a Guardian Fae Ring around the druid’s lifeless corpse. The wave of fae energy carries part of the druid’s very soul with it, tethering it to the land of the living. This created an anchor to Æos, allowing the traversal between these two interlinked planes. Such is the path that all those druii who wish to return to the mortal plane must follow. They must seek out a guardian spirit and learn the secrets of this most sacred ritual Guides and Redlines Requires a TA in Control and Communism to teach the Ritual, as well as being the aforementioned Guardian Spirit. In order to teach the Orison Ritual, an existing Guardian Spirit must show their student the ritual through Greensight. Attempting the ritual in any capacity is a PK. Requires a MA to perform the ritual. Attempting the ritual is a PK, no matter the outcome. Once you die, you’re dead, spirit or not. Guardian Fae Rings Fae rings have always been notoriously awe inspiring and potentially dangerous, for they create links between our realm and the Eternal Forests of the Fae. Normally though, these Fae Rings only allow lesser creatures of the realm to traverse the planes under the light of the full moon. They have the additional effect of imbuing descendants, whether they be human, dwed, or elf, the sudden ability to hear thoughts, instincts, and raw emotions of the flora and fauna around the ring, giving an experience of attunement to the unattuned. This can be very disorienting for those that are unfamiliar with the raw orchestra of nature. These fae rings have only ever been created through the magic of the aspects themselves, being naturally occuring phenomena in the world. But, with the Orison Ritual, we find the first instances of a druid themselves creating these rings through their own powerful druidic energies. During the Orison Ritual, a massive explosion of fae energy is released directly into the land around a druid’s body. Many things are birthed from this influx of energy, including the powerful Guardian Fae Rings. These large spirals of flowers cover the entire area that the blast touched, hallowing the ground that they lay upon. Over this entire area, the effect of a normal fae ring is given, nature filling the ears of those who stand within the living spire. These rings act as normal fae rings, with a few exceptions. Normally, a Fae ring allows only lesser beasts of the Eternal forest to pass through it on a full moon. However, given the druid’s final sacrifice, it allows Guardian Spirits to pass through the realm of the fae into that of the living. Guardian Fae Rings have the unique ability to be created by the living as well as the dead. However, this process is extremely dangerous, and must be preserved for times of great need. By transcending to the eternal forest, a group of three druids can seek out any such guardian spirit and re-tether their soul to the earth. By doing this, the guardian spirit channels their own energies through the bodies of the three druids, transforming the fae ring into a guardian fae ring. This allows for the creation of new guardian fae rings from normal fae rings. It is important to note that Spirits are not tied to any one ring. Instead, over time, these rings begin to create an interconnected network of points that the spirit may visit. Usually these rings are placed around groves, or other places of pilgrimage for those that follow the ways of the aspects. These points serve as the anchors for spirits in the realm, creating holy sites around the world. As stated, guardians are tethered to these Guardian Fae Rings, tying them to that one particular site until they are able to move to a different ring. Guardian Spirits are only able to go so far outside of the ring before they dissipate, the bonds holding them to the world too weak and too far to hold them in any significant way. If such occurs, they find themselves drawn back to the Eternal Forests, unable to plant themselves on the world. They must stay there for a time as their spirit regenerates and recollects in order to return to the world of the living. Guides and Redlines Powerful druids can perform the ritual successfully and be taught it. In order to be able to become a Guardian Spirit on the mortal plane, you must conduct the Orison Ritual. The Druid must first pray, opening a connection with the aspects themselves. Basically grabbing the aspects attention. After such, a druid must expel all of their fae energies in a sometimes violent blast, depending on the age of the druid and their power. This can potentially hurt those around them if the druid is very old and very powerful. The blast caused by the druid causes a surge of life in every direction, causing plants and life to spring up where possible. It can grow trees in an instant, moss to grow on rocks in runic shapes. These runic shapes reflect parts of the druid. Only the Guardian Spirit that created them knows their meaning. The blast also creates a Guardian Fae Ring, a variation of a normal fae ring, a large spiral of flowers, leading to a circle in the middle. This is the exact spot where the druid died. A Guardian Fae ring is what allows a Guardian Spirit to travel between the realm of fae and the mortal plane. Guardian Spirits are tethered to these rings, unable to walk very far away from them without being called back to the Eternal Forest. This radius usually encompasses the size of a grove, or small settlement. Guardian Spirits may only make the journey through Guardian Fae Rings during a full moon (Once every elven day). However, it should be clarified that they may remain the realm of the living after the full moon has passed. In order to perform the ritual, a currently existing Guardian Spirit must teach you it, or have someone who already knows the ritual pass the knowledge to you. This follows suit for druids to create guardian fae rings. In order to create another Guardian Fae Ring, you require a living druid that knows the ritual. Being different from normal fae rings, it is possible to have both a Guardian fae ring and a normal fae ring at the same time. To transform a fae ring into a guardian fae ring, you require three druids who know the transcendence feat. By doing this, it allows the druids to find the spirit in the fae realm and allow them to push their energy through their own bodies into the ring. This creation acts in the same way as the normal creation would, with all of the effects. Must be a druid, and currently be Tier five in both Communion and Control at the time of death. Druids cannot be pulled back from the Eternal Forest after an Elven Month, as the Eternal Forest’s call is far too strong to ignore. Such is the nature of the Fae Realm. In order to be brought back from the Eternal Forest, you must have PK’ed entirely first. It is only allowed for fully PKed druids. A Druid must be able to pray before they die, and build up the energy to release it all. Any sort of instantaneous death would prevent them from doing such, and keep them from tethering their soul. This ritual can only be done while on the brink of death. Druids who commit suicide cannot do the ritual. Any druid blocked by Strength of the Abyss or other Fi magic would not be able to complete this ritual. The blast from the ritual is not enough to kill in any case. Only potentially knock back people. If the druid’s focus is thrown off during the ritual, it ends the ritual and they are unable to continue, missing their window. In order for druids to create a guardian fae ring, they need to gather more than 3 druids to pool their energy together to create this explosion. Without more than three, the combined strain would kill the druids involved. Even with more than two, the process is extremely taxing on the body. The Orison ritual requires the unaltered soul of a druid to be in their body in order to perform this ritual. Druids with altered souls, or those who have placed their souls in other vessels cannot perform the final ritual to become Guardian Spirits. This does not apply to the creation of Guardian Fae Rings. As the natural energies release, the spirit of the animal would release as well. It remains with the guardian as part of it or depart to the aspects realm. This allows shapeshifters to complete the ritual. Guardian Spirits cannot walk outside a certain distance from their Guardian rings. In doing so, they would be demanifested, and sent back to the eternal forest until they can return. (300 blocks) Iconoclast magic would demanifest a Guardian Spirit The Spirits A Guardian Spirit watches over the forest with a careful eye, taking after their original elven form. “Go, my faithful dedicant, into the mountain! There you will find a spiral of flowers… sit in it. Call out to her, to that devout spirit. She will guide you on this task. Now go!” With their spirit tethered to both the eternal forest and the mortal plane, the Druid would wake in the Forest, awaiting that next full moon, for that bridge to open between the realms. When the full moon flies, they may find themselves on a trek across a great birch bridge that stretches far into the cosmos, into the mortal realms, allowing them to awaken inside of the center of the Guardian Fae Ring in a brilliant display of light, standing in the grove created by their own death. This is the journey that all Guardian Spirits will take, should they partake in the Ritual of Orison. Upon their awakening, spirits are met by themselves, by their new spiritual figures. At first, they appear as themselves, given a transparent glow that reflects their own druidic energies. As time goes on, these spirits realize that they can shift their appearance to some degree, to make them look as they did at any point in their life. Through this, they can remove scars, and blemishes upon that figure, or tattoos that covered their skin, appearing truly as a servant of nature, without other worldly attachment. In their journey to the spirit realm, spirits find they may change into a host of different animals, accompanied by that similar transparency and glow that other Guardian Spirits give off. However, with an additional affect. Due to the spirit’s time in the fae realm, the essence of the eternal forest has rubbed off onto their animals’ giving them fae-like attributes. The spirit is just that. A spirit. They cannot touch or interact with the world. They will never again feel the embrace of a loved one, nor the wind on their cheek. They are dead, lost to the world. Incorporeal beings that merely exist as a passer of knowledge, a wielder of the torch of druidic power. Even at their strongest, standing within the fae ring, they are unable to lay a finger on the world of the living. It is the primary mission of all Guardian Spirits to pass down their own knowledge of the balance, and to guide the druids of the world towards a heightened understanding of what their duty is, and how they might attain it. They serve as powerful guides to all that follow the path of the aspects. To dedicants, they serve to inform and teach. To Druii, they seek to offer their different perspective on the world and how it may function. And above all, to Archdruii, they serve as powerful advisors in the face of great adversity. But they are just that. Guides, advisers, wise-men. Vessels of knowledge that lasted longer than they should have. They are unable to use the powers that they had throughout their lives as druii, save but shapeshifting, but they still retain their ancient knowledge of the arts. In times of great need, these spirits are able to pass on their understanding and power into the druii of the world in several ways, detailed a bit later. In addition to this, Spirits are also given a few smaller tools that they would use in pursuit of guiding dedicants, druids, and archdruii alike, without impacting the world on a physical level. Spirits are far more corruptible than our mortal forms. Aurum weapons that affect the spectral beings of the world would affect them just as a normal blade would, cutting away at their energies. Blight that would normally sap away at the strength of a descendent would eat doubly so at the Spirit Guardian, gnawing away at the very being of the guardian, until it is so weak that they are corrupted wholly. And perhaps the most dangerous among them all, are those that carry with them the strength of the abyss. To be touched by this ability is to be scattered, cut off from the world. Upon touch, the spirit is sent back to the realm of the fae, to recuperate once more. Such is a very effective weapon against them, capable of sending them away in an instant. Blight may even corrupt a Guardian Spirit more than it normally would. The spirit is more fragile than the body, and to those who are exposed to it for a long time, it may have devastating effects to their soul. Through time, they’re physically corrupted, and the soul is damaged, leaving their spirit broken. The blight addles their mind, casting a shadow of the ancient spirit. They become destructive, a draoi spirit. Their gifts turn dark, allowing them to grant darkened boons on their followers, on those dark druids that would destroy. As they continue down this path, these spirits are corrupted physically. They may be split open, or tainted visually, their souls torn asunder by the use of these dark boons. These now Draoi spirits haunt the realm, causing chaos and sowing discord throughout the land by empowering the dark druids, until they’re put out of their own misery, and banished from the land by the very druids they were sworn to guide. Banishment is a difficult process, though not impossible. It is a technique used by druids to sever a Guardian Spirit’s connection to the mortal realm, and works similarly to the unattunement ritual. A group of three druids must corner the Spirit, connecting with them via powersharing. After this, there are multiple ways that the druids could deal with the spirit. Potentially, the spirit has been feeding dedicants or other druii misinformation, misguiding them from the path of the Druidism. Or perhaps these spirits have views too extreme for the order, and must be cast out. Both of these are valid reasons to banish a druid from the mortal plane. Or perhaps a spirit has become fully corrupted by blight, making them violent Draoi Spirits. This is another reason to banish a spirit. Or even by request of the Spirit themselves that believe their mission to be done. Banishment is the act of releasing the spirit’s tether to the realm of the mortals, recalling them back to the eternal forest to live out their days there. This action can be reversed, in the same way that a guardian fae ring can be remade. The ritual is one in the same. Guides and Redlines Newly made Guardian Spirits always begin in the realm of the fae. In order to start roleplaying, players must wait until a full moon, or one out of character day in roleplay to re-enter the mortal plane. In order to enter and leave the mortal plane, a Guardian Spirit must do so through a Guardian Fae Ring during a full moon. All Guardian Spirits take on a glow reflecting the color of their fae energy in life. Guardian Spirits take the shape of themselves when they return, appearing unaltered by injury or bodily art. In addition, Spirits may change how they look in order to reflect themselves at different points in their life, to reflect and show how they themselves have changed. Removing injury or changing which point in life they appear as is entirely optional. Due to their time in the fae realm, spirits are capable of morphing into a different host of animals, with the addition effect of fae attributes. The addition of Fae attributes applies also to normal Spirits Guardian Spirits are completely incorporeal, and cannot touch or physically interact with anything in the mortal realm. They are ghosts, in that sense. They will never be able to feel the world of the living, at least physically. Guardian Spirits retain none of their ability to perform druidic arts that they had learned in life, save shapeshifting. However, they retain all of their knowledge in the arts, and still fondly recall the feelings of using their abilities. They instead gain a few other abilities to assist in their primary mission of guiding the descendents, and granting boons of the aspects. Guardian Spirits with a TA in any given druidic magic still keep the TA, but cannot perform the magic themselves, truly being a guide more than anything. Guardian Spirits can no longer perform control, communion, thulean druidism, blight healing, or herblore. Guardian Spirits can no longer teach unattunement, attunement, or shapeshifting. Golden Weaponry affects the spirits as a normal weapon would to a person. Blight corrupts the very soul of the spirit, being far more vulnerable to the effects of the blight. This causes Guardian Spirits to become Spirit Draoi, lashing out violently with all they have to corrupt and damage the world. This, however, can only be done through their existing gifts and receive none for becoming a spirit draoi. Upon their next ‘death’, spirit draoi are permanently killed. Players accept this on making a Spirit Guardian. Upon touch, Strength of the Abyss immediately sends guardian spirits back to the realm of the fae in order to remanifest. This action is extremely disorienting for the spirit, and takes a long time for them to return and gather themselves together. This takes one year in game (One week out of character) Guardian Spirits are able to be banished by the druids of the realm through the banishment ritual. However, they can be brought back through the creation of a guardian fae ring for them. The Mission Guardian Spirits under the full moon, 1650 “I am one with the Balance.” In life, it is the path of druids to protect the balance, to safeguard nature. To protect the wilds and those that live amongst them. When these druii die, they ascend to the eternal forest, to serve as soulbound spirits, wardens and wisemen of the fae realm. These spirits are revered as wise demi-gods next to the aspects, spirits holding immense knowledge. Creatures of the Fae come from near and far in the realm, from the Twilight Bound to the Dayward way. For those Soulbound Servants that return to the realm of the living, their duties must continue. Guardian Spirits are to act as guides, figures of wisdom amongst the druids of Atlas, and all other places to come. They walk amongst the order as highly revered teachers, and advisors, opening their wisdom to all that would seek it. This is their eternal duty, to serve and guide, no more, no less. Very rarely do these druids directly intervene in anything, choosing instead to give their assistance when asked, or to offer a boon from the aspects for dire situations. In some cases, they can even take up teaching positions within the order. Blessings of the Aspects A druid completes a task with the oversight of the Guardian Spirit, 1650 Guardian Spirits tend not to intervene in worldly affairs. Without the ability to hold a sword, or travel far beyond their guardian fae rings, they take up a more guiding role. Their time spent in the realm of the fae shows now though, and Guardian Spirits find that they have a few lesser abilities that they didn’t have before. These can be very straining for the spirit to perform, and only one may be used per day, that they might serve the spirit in guiding others. Greensight Guardian Spirits have the ability to reach out to the attuned minds, able to incur visions of the past, things that the Guardian themselves have seen, or even things that the subject has seen. This ability only works on a willing subject, when they allow the guardian into their thoughts. These visions can be as vivid or as vague as the guardian wills it. This can be used to suggest certain courses of action, or to show lessons that they themselves have learned. This only affects attuned druids and those affected by fae rings. Oversight Guardian Spirits bind themselves to a druid for a time, seeing what they see, hearing what they hear, allowing them into their thoughts. This must be entirely willed on the part of the druid and the guardian. During this time, the druid is marked with a green fae symbol upon the forehead, showing that they are a vessel of the spirit. This lasts until the subject no longer wills it, or the spirit leaves the body of another. Guardian Powersharing As was their ability in life, Guardian Spirits retain their ability to control and manipulate the natural energies of the fae, in order to pass them onto another druid. This greatly enhances the natural ability of the druid far beyond their own potential, exactly like how a normal powersharing is done from a living druid.. However, due to the fact that the Guardian Spirits consist of their own Fae Energies, powersharing dissipates them over time. After they've finished, they return to the Eternal Forest to replenish their being. Guides and Redlines All Blessings of the Aspects can only be performed once per day, while their energies replenish. Any attempt to perform a second blessing in one day will result in a failed attempt. During Greensight, both the druid and the guardian enter a catatonic state while experiencing the visions, they are completely vulnerable to attack until the guardian ends the vision or it ends. Greensight uses previously existing memories from either the Druid or the Guardian Spirit. This applies even to memories that have been lost. Can be used to revive memories. Guardians can manipulate memories to look as vague or vivid as they wish. They may also alter the vision to a limited degree, in order to show alternative choices, or make symbolistic changes. Druids and guardians can experience pain from the vision that may actually linger after the vision ends. This is all psychosomatic. The Ritual of Orison is taught through Greensight memory of the Guardian’s own death. Oversight is the ability for a spirit to bind themselves to a druid’s body, connecting the two. The Guardian Spirit and the druid’s senses are linked, and they can experience the sights, sounds, smells, feelings, tastes, and thoughts. This works vice versa as well, the druid being able to experience those of the guardian as well. In addition, this links their emotions, to a degree. Should the druid grow angry, the guardian may feel a surge of anger or so on. Druids experiencing oversight are marked with a fae symbol over the forehead, glowing with the color of the spirit’s energy. Guardian Powersharing works exactly like normal Powersharing, but after they are done, they dissipate to the Eternal Forest for an Elven Day. Feel free also to roleplay discomfort when powersharing, as you're sacrificing your own lifeforce to fuel another druid. A druid does these at will, they cannot be forced into it, nor can they force them upon others. A Guardian Spirit can only use one blessing per day Greensight must be completely willed on both ends. A Guardian cannot be let into the mind of another without it being opened for them. Guardians cannot cause physical injury through Greensight Visions. This does not apply to psychosomatic illness. As soon as a Druid does not want to be shown a vision, it ends. Closing off the path renders the ability ended. Guardian Spirits cannot be demanifested during oversight. Guardian Spirits cannot use other druidic blessings during oversight Guardian Spirits cannot interact with others outside of the druid they are bound to. Once clerical magic is used on the body of one being affected by oversight, the spirit is pushed out, ending the ability. If a druid does not want to be bound to a guardian spirit any longer, they are disconnected. This applies vice-versa. Guardian Powersharing shares the same redlines as regular powersharing. ((As all things, feedback is appreciated so that I can really make this lore enjoyable for everyone! Shoutout to Leowarrior14, Delmodan, ThatGuy_777, and Gladuous for giving me ideas and letting me talk to them about this!))
  6. Ser Paul Ryan

    Ser Paul Ryan's Arctic Adventure

    As the frigid winds of the far north tugged ceaselessly at the heavy cloak draped about his shoulders, Ser Paul Ryan wondered how he got himself into this peculiar situation. Here he was, stranded in the midst of mountainous wintry hellscape, separated from his battle-buddy and hopelessly lost. Worst of all, the glacial cold bit through the many layers of wool and steel that he had donned, his erect nipples chaffing against the steel of his breastplate. As Paul trudged through the biting winter storm, he preoccupied himself with daydreams of the warmth of his inn back home in Markev...was it even day anymore? He couldn’t tell; the sun above was blotted out by the downy flake that swirled around him with the ceaseless fury of a hurricane. Ser Paul was beginning to get seriously worried; if he didn’t find Lyov and the others before the golems found him, he might never savor the taste of Carrion Black ever again. Suddenly, through the thick white hail, the dark outline of a looming figure appeared. Paul’s mittened hands reached for the handle of his longsword, long-since frozen into its scabbard, before the familiar booming voice of Lyov reached his ears. “Privej, Paul, is that you?” the figure shouted. Ser Paul breathed a haggard sigh of relief as his fingers quickly retreated into the warmth of his cloak, his frozen lips parting to greet his battle-buddy. Before his response could be lost to the wind, however, his heart rose in his throat; as Lyov’s shape grew closer and clearer, another looming shadow had appeared behind him, this one far too large to belong to any mortal man. “BEHIND YOU, FRIENDO!” he roared, ripping his sword clear of its scabbard as he charged through the deep snow towards his pal. More likely than not, Lyov’s reaction was spurred more by Paul’s sudden movement than his words of warning; the clever Raevir, seeing Paul unsheathe his blade, instinctively dove into the deep drifts that surrounded them in every direction. A mere moment later, the lumbering fist of a snow golem tore through the space Lyov’s head had occupied seconds before. As Lyov attempted to scramble to his feet amidst the insecure footing of the snowy tundra, Ser Paul let loose a carefully rehearsed battle cry as he charged towards the foe. He hoped Lyov was impressed; he had hired an expensive speech coach to hone his compelling combat cry, and figured the least he could do before dying in this frozen wasteland was put on a good show. “HOOPLAH!” the anointed knight shrieked as he plunged into bitter contest with the frosty behemoth, intent on buying his battle-buddy the precious few seconds he would need to regain his senses. “High ho, to and fro, back to a frosty hell you go!” the Orenian celebrity cheered, before being swept aside by the Golem’s powerful arms. To call the frigid bastard huge was the understatement of the year; his lumbering limbs were nearly as big as Ser Paul himself, and the creature exerted little effort as he batted the trained knight aside like a mere plaything. He had bought his battle-buddy time, however, and that was all that mattered; Lyov had found his dropped spear amidst the howling winds of the shivery blizzard, and leaped back into the fray with gusto to return noble Paul’s favor. It was in vain, however; Lyov’s steel-tipped spear barely delayed the lumbering leviathan as it lurched towards Paul’s prone figure in the snow, and another swipe of its massive iron paw shattered the spear’s shaft into a thousand frozen splinters. Paul’s snow-blind eyes gazed at the oncoming colossus in sheer terror, and he realized there was nothing he could do save close his eyes before the finishing blow sent him packing from this corporeal realm forever. “It’s been real, friendos…. pour one out for me,” he said to no one in particular, a strange smile dawning on his face as he prepared to greet his creator. The fatal blow never came, however; as the lumbering frost Golem raised its tree-trunk arms high above its head to crush Ser Paul into smithereens, an otherworldly cry split the bone-chilling air. “I’m coming Paaaaaaul!” sounded the heroic voice of Larry Cravencock, one of Paul’s oldest partners in crime, as he leapt from an unseen mountain ledge above them onto the Golem’s back. The courageous Cravencrock’s noble gesture hadn’t just been executed with perfect dramatic flair, it also caught the arctic giant off guard, and the icebound behemoth let loose a mighty roar as he stomped back and forth in repeated attempts to shake Larry off his rotund mass. Larry’s legs went flying like a ragdoll’s; left and right, left and right, left and right his lower appendages whirled, swaying in the chilly breeze like the flag of his Kingdom’s noble disposition, but brave Cravencock’s grip held true, his arms wrung like wrought iron about the goliath's metal neck. As Lyov rushed over to Paul, helping the handsome knight to his feet, the hulking beast grew tired of the outrageous affair, finally reaching up with a ham-sized fist to pluck Larry off and send him cascading into the frozen battle-buddies. The trio went down in a tangled mass of frozen limbs, their collapse cushioned by the deep snow. The golem began to let loose a mighty roar, intent on hammering the three weaklings into dust like a drunken mother-in-law smashes ice-chips for her next margarita, when a load crack split the air. Without warning, the ice beneath the golem’s mammoth feet gave way, weakened by the monumental stomping the beast had relied upon in its attempts to shake Larry free. As quickly as it had appeared, the golem vanished in a tumbling cascade of ice and snow, its parting bellows lost to the whirling winds that nipped at the shivering survivors. All that remained was a measly iron mitt, one of the creature’s staggeringly-huge hands, severed from the rest of its body as it attempted to claw onto anything that might have saved it from its fall. The beast’s weight was far too much, however, and all that remained was the chunk of golem scrap metal that nearly tore off Lyov’s head. “You DID IT, Larry!” Ser Paul cried out, his head popping up from the snowbank it had been lodged into. “And your victory even comes with a sweet prize! Righteous!” A few hours later, when the storm had abated and the three noble warriors had found the rest of the Haensetic party, Paul poured Larry another cup of warm cocoa as he regaled his fellow adventurers with their tale. “You should have seen Larry go! He all but sent that golem running back to its mountain-mama singlehandedly! Lyov’s spear had set the creature off-balance, of course, and my own noble war-cry had clearly reduced it to a quivering mess, unable to fight, but it was Cravencock’s iron headlock that finished the beast!” The valiant men of Haense spent the rest of the wintry day in their huddled camp, girding themselves for the journey home that would begin on the morrow. Before our hero Ser Paul Ryan saw the Dancing Crow Inn with his own eyes again, however, a peculiar party of ancient northern beings would make their presence known. That’s a long tale for another time, however, and for now, our foolhardy heroes reveled in their triumph over the North’s greatest villain. (Expect a post from Cruzazul8 coming soon to explain our riveting encounter with the event team, which will doubtlessly set the stage for the server's upcoming story...)
  7. ForeverGinger

    In the Dead of Night

    The Sutican streets were quiet as the daylight faded. The bustling crowd that gripped the city during daylight hours had dwindled as the cold shroud of night fell over the city, vanishing altogether as the sun dipped behind the walls. The creature strode through the city as if it owned it. The ends of its tattered robes swished against the cobbles as it wound its way through the city streets. Much had changed over the years, but the robed figure still enjoyed its moonlit walks. Night brought with it a pleasant sort of stillness, a quiet that was seldom found in a city. The robed figure wore the darkness like a cloak, winding around the city's drowsing guards as if they had never been there. The protectors were vigilant, but human nature will always win out in the end. It was not their fault, they were simply out of their element as the creature ducked around corners and scrambled onto rooftops. Even in life it had been good at avoiding attention, and death had done nothing to dull its sense of stealth. Eventually, someone would notice something -- A brief flash of brown, or perhaps the faint click of bone against stone -- but until then the robed figure walked the streets without a care. Not all was dark in the city, however. A faint light shone from the temple in the Central Ward, casting shadows along the streets. If the creature still possessed a nose, it would have wrinkled it in distaste as it approached the building. It knew it did not belong here, in this place of vile worship. If the clerics were roused from their sleep, they would fall upon the robed figure with fire and sword. They would bring with them the light, that burned its bones like the rays of the sun. This was a dangerous place for it to linger, and yet it did. They did not understand, the people of this city. There were powers at work here, puppets danced along the strings set for them and claimed it was for the best. Strings that bound them to a higher power, one that twisted their gifts for its own devices. There was no hope for those touched by the light. Sometimes when a wound goes foul, the best thing to do is to cut away the rot. That is what brought this robed figure to the City of Light. It was a reminder, a symbol of the balance that had been shattered since the Descent. It was a sort of bitter irony, the so-called saviors of mortalkind hastening their own demise. And yet no matter how much the creature spoke, no matter how much it pleaded, they would not listen. Words were wasted on those who refused to heed them. And yet, the creature was not without mercy. It was not without its own twisted sense of justice, one that called it to the city that night. It was mercy that drove the creature to leave a letter on the pulpit, a warning to the innocents of the city: There is a purpose behind my coming. There is a reason I haunt the streets of this city. There are powers at work greater than any can even begin to comprehend. I have tried to turn you from your path. I have spoken and preached, and yet you turn your eyes from the truth. This war has waged since before my creation, and will continue long after my final death. Tonight I will draw the line between the dark and the light, the mortal and immortal. Tonight I will do my duty, my small part to right the imbalance that has existed for so long. Those who serve the immortal, the maleficar, will find safety here no longer. May you find peace in death, as I have.
  8. As the one who has been up to this point, one of if not the sole builder for Norland, i'd like to tell you a story. When I joined Norland roughly 5 weeks ago, literally the day I joined that Renatian diplomat met with the king demanding that he forcibly convert the kingdom, or else renatus would get a CB. Well, in the wake of the ensuing falling out, I was told to begin designing various forts to defend the swamp route to our nation. At first the were designed by other norlanders, and I would simply schem them in... but eventually I designed my own. Two weeks pass or so, a number of raids and an election later I'm told that the forts are either too small or a slew of other reasons for the lack of their usage (personally I thought a domination-style warclaim where one side had to capture the majority of the forts in a time limit would be pretty interesting, but thats just me), so thats a few weeks worth of my work down the drain. I'm also told that they will only come from land, so the coastal fort I spent days to design and construct also won't be used, adding more to the growing list of things i done but in the end are pointless in my time back. Then its decided that there will be 2 skirmishes then a final siege (which im told isnt how these wc's are normally organized, but im not well versed in that regard) , which doesn't make sense due to the aforementioned forts and the fact that there is no way a vastly smaller force can actually win in open battle, so it RP'ly isn't realistic... Anyway, the days before the first warclaim I stay up building walls on the first island of Norland's capital for 9 HOURS straight... 3-12 cst, so that the gm's can't simply take up a copy of Norland b4 the warclaim and say that it is unrealistic to add walls within a week. After the second warclaim and more time building up the keep island making it unable to get up, I'm then told that the third island should be re-built into a defensive fort-like structure it was b4... A number of ppl say they're going to design it and build it but after an hour and a half im the only one there. Doesn't matter. I want to prove myself. So I spend the next few days (that was this week btw) building this fort up, when i get the news that we have to level part of it, its simply too tall. So i get two Gm's to delete Huge portions of the fort, making it lower than the island actually was on the map screen. Anyway, no matter, we'll make it work. The gm's keep placing more restriction on what we can/can't build, and what amounts of various implements (such as buttons) we can use... but it doesn't matter, I'll fix them... I'll do whatever it take to make sure Norland is defensible against such a huge blob of... well..... Anyway, Thursday night, 501 tells us to cut vast sections down more, and I'm willing to cooperate, but its basically undoing everything we've done without any sort of help... So i go to bed thinking that others are going to help me eventually when i get on tomorrow (Friday), but this is the screenshot i get from a fellow norlander when I log on on friday: Now, unlike a number of my peers who would've quit at this point, seeing as how everything was reverted and we only had a limited time, two other norlanders and myself built that cobblestone thing in 3 and a half hours ( which you can s#%$ on all you like, I'm damn proud of both myself and my collegues. no schematica. no fly. no world edit. just a limited time and some hard work.) Now, the day of the WC comes. I build our seige weapons last night ( which are much larger and less cancerous than what you purport yours to be) and im going to be in charge of firing them today. We get into the war server, assign out all our men, and the battle begins. After two volleys, the enemy has one treb left, so this is how it plays out.... https://gyazo.com/91eb00a43767420af750fffa50cda622 so we destroy the treb, but by some miracle their treb still has the chance to fire one last shot, even when our trebs have already fired two volleys at other targets in the meantime (the time between which has been a good three minutes or so, and multiple shots later, and thus their treb should have been destroyed long before it fired that last shot. But it fires, and not only that, but despite its small size and the layer of the tower, it makes a perfect staircase for use to be overrun by the enemy, even though realistically we should have already won, and that shot shouldn't have even existed. And with that little discrepancy, five weeks worth of work is lost. Three out of the past roughly 48 hours ive spent over the course of the last few weeks is all that I have to show for it. NOTHING I DID MATTERS. IT FEELS AS IF YOU TOOK A WHOLE AP EXAM, AND WHEN YOU GO TO TURN IT IN THE TEACHER RIPS IT UP IN YOUR FACE. not good, not good at all. Not even that, as literally once small oversight has toppled anything and everything ive worked on, and all that i have tried to do to save a group that personally I have no similarities to, but are hated by everyone for playing on the server how they like. Whats worse is that, if anyone even reads this, they will most likely throw s$#^ at me for saying this. Insults like "Thats what you get for fighting with raiding A^$holes and pvp goons. You make cancer and you deserve this!" so idk, it seems to me that theres a prejudice against anyone who chooses to run with the proverbial outsiders of this server, and its unfair, as in #NotAllNorlanders So yes, I think the warclaims need to be handled better in the future, though not in the same ways as perhaps many of the other replies here would say ....
  9. Beorn15

    Alkheim's Adventure #2

    The skirmish at Dunsire Alkheim was once again wandering through the lands, his heart always yearned for knowledge. He wanted to know what was between the temple and Castle Pembroke. As he was wandering around, he saw a worn figure on a horse coming towards him on the road. The creature was slumped in his horse as if he had ridden for a long while. Alkheim, cautiously approached this creature. As they both decreased the distance between them, Alkheim began to notice that the person on the horse looked to be the size of a boy, however, he had the facial features of a man. Alkheim immediately realized that he was confronting a halfling. He greeted the halfling as he drew near, relaxing his grip upon his knife. The halfling looked up at him wearily. As he saw the young man approaching, a glint of hope seemed to come into his eyes. The halfling, asked Alkheim for help, for his hometown, Dun-shire was being raided by some sort of humanoid creatures. His fellow neighbors and relatives had either hid in the town, fled, or been slain. When Alkheim heard this he was greatly troubled, for the way the halfling describe the raiders, were the common description of Orcs. The halfling despratly asked the hooded figure for aid and protection to his home. Alkheim agreed to do his best to protect the town. Alkheim followed the halfling all the way to Dun-shire were he spent a day and a night there. On the morning of the second day, the halfling was showing Alkheim the destruction of these Orcs had done. Just as he finished talking, an Orc wielding an ax, emerged from the path facing them. Quickly, both Alkheim and the halfling drew their weapons. While Alkheim drew his bow, the halfling brandished his very short sword. Just as the tension was building up, another halfling sprung out of the trees with a sword in his hand. He rushed towards Alkheims side to help him. The Orc, growing angrier by the second, charged towards them swinging his ax furiously. Alkheim jumped to the side as he released the shaft into the side of the Orc. Both the halflings began to charge at the Orc, attempting to stab it. The Orc was stabbed several times until he finally wounded one of the halflings. Though Alkheim loosed another shaft upon the Orc, he could not save the halfling, the other halfling soon had the same fate as his companion, and he too also fell to the ground lifeless. Alkheim was able to fire 5 arrows into the body of the Orc as it charged him, but the Orc was too quick and too strong. Alkheim had to roll out of the way, dropping his bow and retrieving the sword of one of the halflings. Though Alkheim wounded the Orc severely with the knife, it was no match for the strength of the Orc's battle ax. Alkheim could not fight for long, and as he tried to retrieve his bow, he was struck upon the back by the thrown ax of the Orc. Alkheim slumped to the ground losing all memories of this encounter when he awoke. The Orc severed the heads of his enemies off and then fell to the ground unconscious.
  10. Bloody Russian

    A Dream of Scarlet Empire

    -------==0==------- A Dream of Scarlet Empire -------==0==------- Canonist arrows flying across the indivine harbour of Norland. Heretic swords slicing into the devout flesh of Renatian archers. Holymen condemning the actions of pagan warriors while they drink and play the game of conquests as much as the earthly kings who supposedly 'follow' them. A royal blue banner adorned with a yellow saltire, crossed with a red crux, emblazoned with a crimson roundel above it all, rising over the once mighty city of Marna, now dubbed Marne, all as a kings' head on a pike was paraded through the city as Marnan citizens cheered and Hanseti peasantry cry. But not a known king. A familiar face flayed and strung outside of once mighty Senntisten, discovered too little, too late, its crystal blue eyes staring out, judgmental in their blankness, darkness where there had formerly been light, devoid of any emotion. His own eyes. The man woke with a start, rolling out of his bed, his heart racing, fingers twitching, reaching for somebody who wasn't there, tears running down his face. Rising, dusting off his roughclothes, he rose, shaking his head to clear the horrible thoughts of war. There was enough of that when he was awake, no need for it when he was abed, right? Wrong. Opening his door to escape the stench of umpteen stallions, he walked down the stairs to the town square to splash some water on his face to clear the last of his grogginess. Nevermind that it was high-moon still, there was no way he was getting back to sleep after that. As the cold, crisp water dripped off his plain features, the man looked down into the starlight-filled water that reflected his own face back at him. Staring into the gaunt, bleak eyes that stared back at him, Samuel rose, not wanting to look at that face any longer. But it should have been just another face to him, nothing important. It should have simply been a common face, nothing to fear, right? Wrong. Samuel trudged down to the Holmiote front square, glancing around at the dead avenues, noting the staunch lack of activity...abnormal, even during this time of night. Normally, there would be at least a few last stragglers in the Holmiote tavern trying to cover their growing hangovers with one last shot of fine whiskey...followed by another, and so the cycle would continue. There would be a few felines running around the avenues, chased by their owners in an attempt to bring them in for the night. There would be a few lonely merchants hoping to make ends meet by selling their goods to whomever else would be up at this sorry hour, moonlighting at the bank before being chased out by the Brigade. But this was not the case. The streets were as devoid of life as Mordskov, as desolate as Johannesburg, as abandoned as Aegis, and as solemn as Senntisten during a nighttime snow. To Samuel, there simply was...no one. Uneasy from the void of anything living, he practically jumped out of his skin, stifling a rather feminine shriek as he heard rocks kicked behind him. He spun around, expecting to see Dimlin chiding him for not being in uniform, or one of the city's many undead walking towards him, bow cocked and raised. He thought he was already spooked. Wrong. Instead, he saw something more horrifying that he thought possible. A man wearing tattered robes walked towards him, his boots clicking on the stone of Holm's pavement. But this was nothing unusual, yes? Men regularly walked these roads, so it was nothing? Wrong. As he walked towards Samuel, Samuel began to stumble backwards, anxiety overwhelming him as the horrifying man approached. One eye an impossibly luminous shade of emeraldine green, the other almost inhuman with its bloodied iris and collapsed pupil, the man cast a blood red aura of feverous, frenzied fury intermingled with madness all at once. His face was narrow and pinched, his nose long and crooked, his jet black hair, peppered with the occasional gray strand was cropped short over his temple, his lips thin and pale. His skin was an impossible shade of white, like someone who had died repeatedly, and each time come back less and less human, until finally emerging as something not quite mortal, not quite inhuman...but something profoundly wrong. His fingers long and spindly, his form ectomorphic, his face well shaven, he seemed simultaneously ancient and unaging. His right hand appeared to have a brand in a foreign language on it, only one letter even vaguely recognizable: the letter K. A silver crown wrapped around his head, rather plain compared to what else he wore. His robes a dark shade of gray, bordered with a deep shade of scarlet, they fit illy on him, hanging lose over his thin frame. As he walked, fractured chainmail could be heard clinking with each step. Under these robes, a glimpse of a royal blue military uniform was visible, the same shade of blue that flew on the banner in Samuel's dream. The sword tied to his waist-belt gave off an aura of almost unbelievable depression and sadness, and glowed a slight shade of red. It was quite evident that this sword was not of Atlas origin...perhaps not even of mortal origin. As he got closer to Sam, who was by this point frozen with fear, petrified with the man's corrupting aura, the man spoke. But this should have made him less intimidating, no? Wrong. The man's voice was light, nowhere near matching the vile aura he gave off, and very well-spoken. It seemed as silky as an escorts' tone as they would enthrall a potential john, yet as dangerous as a well-honed razor. He had an accent unfamiliar to any Samuel had ever heard...his 'r's sounded closer to a fusion of 'd's and 't's, many of his 'g's being pronounced in the back of his throat, a rather rough accent compared to the Common spoken throughout Atlas. ((An Austrian accent.)) His first words were unnerving in their familiarity, as Samuel had once spoken something quite similar... "Little human, going to prey, going to play, going to prey?" As the man spoke the last syllable, his cocked his head and smiled welcomingly...but it seemed wrong. How could so much malice be hidden behind such a charismatic smile? And so much sorrow? The man's eyes were dead behind his expression, as if he had seen his friends killed, his children run away, and his true love assassinated in front of his eyes... Samuel finally broke the trance he had gone under and tried to run, but found that his feet had been frozen...and not figuratively. Actual ice had frozen around his ankles, binding them together. As he frantically looked around, no one was in view, save a small number of unfamiliar looking dwarves...ones far alien to the ones he had come to know and befriend. These were ugly little creatures, their teeth tombstones in comparison to their size, warped and contorted eyes, and devolved. On each of their lapels, they wore pins of a raven taking flight, with the emblazoned words 'Aparthyd Imperial Dragoon' tattooed on their forearms...Samuel noted, somewhat hysterically, that it seemed to be the same Common he knew... A sharp contrast to the language tattooed on the crowned man's hand. He called out to ask their help, in the vain hope that they might not be associated with the man in front of him. He was wrong. The evil little dwarves simply smirked, looking at each other. The man in front of his threw back his head and cackled, then looked back to Samuel. "Such fear in such a young mind...a mighty shame. I pray to Kelos that you not have to experience even more in the future." At this, Samuel swallowed, his Adam' apple bobbing, and he finally found the courage to speak clearly. "Wh....Who are you?" The man shook his head, still smiling. "That is for me to know and you to wonder. However...you may call me 'The Once and Again King.' Or Oak, for short." He drew his sword, which he promptly sliced his own palm on, then began to pace towards Samuel, his weathered boots clacking on the rocks, his tattered robes billowing in the wind. His walk, however, was more of a stalk than a normal step...and yet seemed vaguely familiar to Sam. He raised the sword to Samuel's head, and Samuel tried to move once more...but found that he was unable to. His blood turned cold with fear... Wait...he actually did feel cold. His blood truly was running through his arteries and veins at a much lower temperature than usual. He thought...he thought he could feel the fluid slicing ever so slightly at the thin walls of his blood vessels. It itched something horrible. The man identifying himself as Oak simply smiled sympathetically as he noticed Samuel twitching in discomfort. "Ah, yes...Sorry about that. I find it's more easy to keep others from attacking me this way." Samuel clenched his eyes as the cold, red steel touched his neck, a sense of dread and sorrow spreading through him as it did so...and in it he felt all the pain the wielder of the blade felt at that moment... He felt the fury of a lifetime of madness enveloping him, the tinged vision he always had, and heard a pulsating beat that almost instantly felt like a dagger in his mind...and realized the man lived with this his entire life. The pulsating, harsh grating beat was unnerving, and inhuman, and horrifying, as if a bit of the Iblees himself had found a way into the sanctity of his mind, and infected it with a small part of himself. He saw flashes of a city burning, a woman in white and gold royal garbs beheaded and staked, glimpses of the man staring at his own skull and rotting corpse, his friends being impaled with a blade of a rival, and felt the extreme paranoia that Oak felt. He felt himself enveloped in the same terror the man felt as he saw him running on a black dock at midnight from men with torches, stumbling onto a strangely designed boat emblazoned with the same words on the man's hand...yet he now knew its meaning....'The Iron Warrior.' He felt the man's fear as he stumbled into a new land, and his joy at meeting the woman he loved. He felt the ambrosial state the man felt as he first lay with his wife...and the grief when his daughter was born, a feeling apparently shared by his wife. He felt the sorrow when he knew his wife left him, and the mixed joy-guilt when his daughter ran away. He He felt the ecstasy as he sat in a throne of fire and water, and the horror when his last friend impaled him with horns of ivory, and felt her teeth tear into his stomach and then....nothing. As Samuel looked up at the man, embroiled in the emotional chaos, he failed to notice the small cut the man had put under his left eye, not dissimilar to his own, he knew the man. More than his name, more than his story, he knew his entirety. He was simultaneously repelled and sympathetic towards him. The man simply smiled, now seeming much more sincere than before. "And now you know. You know the tale of the madman. The horror of a king, the fever of a mage. The disaster of the evil daemon, and what he can do to a man, and to a land. You have seen what he can do." Samuel simply nodded, at a loss for words. The man looked up at the stars, which seemed far less stable now, vibrating slightly, as if it was a mirage. He looked back at Sam, beginning to fade out of existence. "Power is a lie. There is only love. Don't make the mistake I made and place temporal power before the only eternal thing." Sam shook his head, glancing around, seeing no trace of the dwarves, only the man in front of him, who was almost gone by this point. "I...I can't let what happened there happen here..." As the man finally vanished, he uttered one last phrase as he tossed his spectral sword towards Samuel, who awkwardly caught it, suddenly able to move again. "Do not let the Scarlet Empire rise here...no matter the cost..." And then Samuel awoke in the Holmiote tavern, thoroughly sozzled, a bottle of liquor in his left hand. "Welp, that's the last time I drink absinthe..."
  11. Beorn15

    Alkheim's Orgin

    Alkheim, of the house of Alsteim, the descendant of Alkheir, the Bowman, the Hunter, or among the creatures of war, the terror. Alkheim lived with his mother and father in the kingdom of Renatus. They dwelt in peace in this town for a long time. However, since an Orc settlement was close by, the Orcs had become more than a mere nuisance to traders and travelers, they were becoming a threat. Knowing that the Orcs and Goblins were both very warlike and territorial, Alkheir knew that it would start weighing heavily on the kingdom eventually if the trades were raided continuously. Alkheims father, Alkheir saw the grievance the Orcs, Goblins, creatures caused, so, he went to the king of Renatus, asking for permission to protect these traders and caravans. The king understood the reason for Alkheirs wants to do this; people were dying due to these constant raids. However, Alkheir reminded the kind of the house of Alsteim, that in the days of old, they protected the king, they were his elites. When the king found out that Alkheir was speaking the truth, he named the group the group of old, the rangers. It only seemed fitting, since the line had descended from the house of Alsteim, and they had practiced the skill for generations, still being amazing Bowmen, trackers, etc. When Alkheir had permission, he took his men and created a group to defend the travelers and traders from the Orcs This made these creatures fearful of Alkheim the terror, but, they also hated him.Soon afterward, more Orcs began attacking these caravans of traders, knowing that if enough attacked, the defenders would be overwhelmed. The numbers of them were to great and Alkheims father perished, and the caravan was plundered. When Alkheim heard of this, he grieved greatly, he gathered many of his friends who were warriors or archers as himself. Being a successful tracker, he tracked down the murderous Orcs and attacked with his men. Unfortunately, the Orcs were too strong for them, they slaughtered his friends and injured him greatly. Alkheim barely escaped with his life. After healing himself and fully recovering from the wounds inflicted upon him by the Orcs, he discovered that his face was mauled and scared, forcing him to hide his face in a deep cowl. Alkheim did not desire to live in a kingdom with so many sad memories, he wandered about, trying to uphold justice, and running from the tragic sorrows of his memories. Never would Alkheim forget the deeds that the Orcs committed. Give me any suggestions, do you like it, should I add something. I would like the lore team to look at this to see if there are any lore errors. Also, maybe adding some lore to the house of Alsteim.
  12. Beorn15

    Alkheim's Adventure #1

    After Alkheims Tragedy, Alkheim made his way to the Cloud Temple for healing, both in body and spirit. For 1 month, he spent his time there, his scars were hidden, and his soul was put at rest. The monks befriended him and helped him. However, Alkheims spirit was uneasy and long for Adventure and for friends. So, he took his leave from the temple, wandering about, helping travelers. He began to roam around a place called Pembroke-shire, he went around looking people to help. The Count of Pembroke, Edward Suffolk, heard of him. Count Edward sent one of his knights to fetch him. When Alkheim met the Knight, he did as was asked and made his way to Pembroke. In Pembroke, Count Edward employed Alkheim into his service. Alkheim, not wanting to wait around, began to listen to the people of Pembroke. He heard of a terror in the mountains, an unknown terror. After further Observation, Alkheim discovered some sort of structure in the mountains. It appeared to be a crypt, an ancient one indeed. So, Alkheim, being curious, went into the crypt, he looked around, until he heard a group of creatures speaking with one another. Alkheim drew into the shadows and listened intently to the conversation. They appeared to be talking about ghouls, and things of dark magic. Alkheim, being concerned for the well fair of Pembroke, listened even more intently. However, just as Alkheim was creeping away, he was discovered, by this creature. He ran out of the crypt, into the hiding, away from the town, hoping that they would not suspect the town. However, a ghoul by the name of Hektor Blackwood followed Alkheim. When Alkheim was then going back into the crypt for more information, he was stabbed in the back by Hektor. Though the knife was not long, it carried a heavy sedative, which quickly knocked Alkheim unconscious. He was then dragged deep into the crypt where the ghoul would feast upon his soul. When Alkheim regained consciousness he did not remember any of the past events, all he knew, was that the mountain above Pembroke was evil.
  13. GaiaLoTC

    The Emerald Way

    The Emerald Way ‘Blessed are they who follow The Emerald Way’ Teachings of the Archdruid of the Hurricane 13th of the First Seed, 1660 On yesterday's eve, I witnessed a sight most common, though for some unknown reason, it struck me strange. An elk was torn into by a beast, and ripped into, to eat. A common occurance, yes, this is known. Tis’ the way of nature, the beasts eat the common gazelle, and so on the predator eats the prey, and the prey feeds on what they can. There is no evil in it, the predator must eat as much as the prey, and the prey must eat what it can, and there is only survival in it. The predator feels naught for devouring its prey, nor does the prey when it grazes upon the grasses, despite life from the world being taken out. Such is the unseen way of all natural life, life passes on and on and through each moving piece of it. There is naught evil or good, only what is and what survives. Such also is the way of druidism, our gifts are given without thought of good and evil, but with only this delicate balance of the cycle of life in mind. Druids are expected to be as neutral as nature in this sense, are we not? It is the duty of druids to correct the balance, wheresoever it may be corrupted, without heed for borders. It is our duty to correct it, we must. We have been charged by the aspects above to do our sacred duties, and the order has decided we must do it without heed for borders. But this charge ignores a most fundamental principle of our life as descendants, of how we have grown and developed too live with morality, to have the sense of good and evil, and all in between. It is what makes us what we are, it is what gives us our humanity, and this makes us truly and beautifully unique. We are not a part of this balance the aspects have created for us, but we surely live with it. To attempt to live without morality, to attempt to live neutrally and strive to think as the aspects do, without heed of what is good and evil, this is unnatural of our own being. It makes us only as simple as the beasts and prey that are in the balance we seek so desperately to protect. We cannot, and we should not deny what we are, how we think, but we must find a balance of our own, and look over the balance with a sense of right and wrong. This is what I feel the Aspectists have found quite rightly in the founding of the Naelurir. To live along with both the balance and the descendants, separately, yet together. In this, we are allowed to exercise our sense of right and wrong and do our duty to protect the balance with great strength. It is not the nature of men to keep out of everything, we, as Malin's kin, must be involved in the survival of our people, and our culture, for surely the theatre of the world seeks to stamp us out yet. One would say it distracts us from our duty, to be a part of a nation. This is not the case, nay. I might even say it better allows us to perform our duties. While we cannot live as neutral, we are able to do our best to spread what is good, and what is just. It is of the utmost importance that druids maintain strong ties to the world they live in and protect, they cannot fly above it all. Neutrality is a disease that leaves men weak, and staggeringly alone, as many beasts are. Fellow priests of the balance, I say to you. Do not catch the disease of neutrality. Hone your sense of right and wrong, fight always for the path of good for you and your people. Do not become unnatural men, stripped of all sense of what is good in the world. In morality, we find our strength together. I do wish to begin a great awakening in our faith, an awakening of our morality and duty. Altars lie around our sacred city, placed there by what seems to be a Nightingale and a Falcon, and upon them is inscribed the phrase ‘Blessed are they who follow The Emerald Way’. I take it as a sign, as a great stroke of faith that we must revitalize ourselves, and make something of that phrase. During my pilgrimage, I have meditated a great deal, and I shed a brilliant ray of light on myself and our faith. I have pledged myself in blood to tenants I now establish, tenets of the Emerald Way, and I do thusly take them upon my soul along with my oath as a Naelurir. I encourage others to take the same vows with me, so we can move toward a better future for us all. May the aspects strike us down where we do stand should we break them, and may their wrath be furious and swift. Tenets of the Emerald Way I. Thou shalt honor thy seed and its tenants For we are elves and the life of the family is most sacred. Should we not honor them, we do a disservice to both our faith and our country, and degrade our unity through each dishonor. II. Thou shalt uphold thy sacred duty to your people in all things For we are charged with great purpose in our nation, to spread and uphold the tenets of the Aspectist faith. To neglect our duty to our people is to neglect a child in need of care, for we are yet budding still. III. Thou shalt remember the aspects and hold them holy in thy heart For there ought to be no higher power in the lives of elves. Nature is our life and way, and so we must give thanks and bless them above that have allowed us these lives we do so live. IV. Thou shalt not bear falsities, for thy faith is the way of truth For a lie is a deadly fault, and our faith is the green way of truth. Lies only breed destruction and sow guilt through the people, and we will not live in a world governed by falsities. V. Thou shalt remember thy kin and shield them from the descendants of the world For together we find our strength. We are few, yet long-lived. In order to survive, we must stick together, and protect each other from the outside world, in our blood, in our homes, and in our lives. VI. Thou shalt strive in all things for the salvation of you and your people For the threat of conquest constantly looms, and our people are looked down upon by the other descendants of the world. Too many times have we been shoved into the dirt. We must all work together as one race, one people. VII. Thou shalt not give in to baseless lust and honor the sacred bonds of marriage For we are few, yes. But we cannot bring upon ourselves greater curses than we already have. Baseless lust leads to the interbreeding of races and taints the waters of life. We are cursed yes, but we must band together. We cannot look to others to save our race. VIII. Life is precious, and thou shalt not murder For it is our greatest gift from the aspects, not the powers of druidism. Life must be protected when it can be, though when life threatens other life, it must be ripped from the world. “Thou shalt honor thy seed and their tenants” For all races of the world,family is important, that is no lie. But for mali, important is an understatement. Strong families provide for the whole of our people, strong seeds people our province. To betray your family is to betray your people as well, for a week see leads only to a withered tree. Be not like the boy Faenel, do not weaken your family. Faenel was a boy, long long ago, in a great seed that brought strength to our people. Great charity flowed from the blood of his family and enriched the very soil our kin walked upon. They provided for all, a great, and bountiful seed, donating their time, their sweat, and their blood need be. Faenel was one of 2 sons, a sign of great fertility for the seed. He was the youngest, yes, and his brother and he worked the land from the dawn of day till blink of night. He was given food, water, clothes on his back, and good kin to rely upon. He worked very honestly yes, and he was paid fairly enough for his work upon the rich soil. But his seed was no rich seed, no. They did not carry with them great mounds of minae, they had what they had to get by, no more no less. But Faenel did not like this, he saw a great many others within the city, richer seeds, with fine clothes, and great feasts to greet them when they were home. He wanted this for him, for him family. One day, the boy Faenel saw a great set of fine green robes within a store, but he lacked the money to get such a fine piece. Greed took his heart, and he fell to it. The boy took to his home, and in the dead of night robbed from his own parents. He took what he needed to get these clothes, and he hid them away, that he may reveal them at some lavish occasion. That night, when he had gotten home from the fields, he saw food to greet him at the table. He saw merry faces, welcoming him back from his work. And on it went. Days turned to months, and Faenel returned from his work each day, but this time, he came home to an empty table. No food to greet him, nor welcoming smiles. Just hungry souls set around a table. He had taken too much, and left the family with too little to provide, to eat. And that winter, without enough minae for food, the family soon starved, and the seed vanished into nothingness. Such is the fate of all mali who succumb to greed and selfishness, and of those that put themselves before the survival of their family. If we betray our families, we all fall to naught. “Thou shalt uphold thy sacred duty to your people in all things” The pack cannot survive long if the hunters neglect their duty to hunt, nor can they carry on from generation to generation if they do not bear children. Just as the pack, every citizen of your nation has a sacred duty, and you have yours as well. When these duties are neglected, our people fall to ruin quickly. Crops are not sown, the land is not tilled. Beasts run rampant, and our people starve, with no children to replace them. These are our duties. Achikr. A horrid word for a neglectful parent. I cannot hope to have these words pass my lips anymore in my life. We are cursed with infertility, and every person matters when contributing to the society. When a mali lives and dies without having two children, we must consider it as equal to a death in the society. For without having two children, we cannot hope to maintain our numbers. For those mali with one, we must push them, we must encourage them to continue. For those blessed with three, we must rejoice! For they have brought life to the society. Mothers must teach their children the same, how to care for others. They must be gentle, and compassionate, for the world will not be. To have these children is one thing. For a father to provide meat and meal for them is another. A child is no blessing without food to make them grow strong, without meal to sustain their lives, however long they may be. A father must be a successful hunter and must teach their children the same. The child must be strong enough to provide for their own, and the generation next. Behind every weak child is a weak parent, who had not the stones to bring them up properly. A father must be strong, and iron-willed, for they must face the world themselves. These are our common duties to our kin. “Thou shalt remember the aspects and hold them holy in thy heart” Mali live with and beside nature, as mutual partners. The earth provides for us all, through the crops we sow, and the light breezes. We ride ships to fish great feasts from the sea. We protect it thusly, we shield it from the greedy hands of humanity, they that would place themselves as king of the ashes, founding kingdoms on stone alone, and force the crops from the earth. We have attained this delicate balance, and shield ourselves in the world. We cannot then forget what has allowed us to live, what allows us to continue our existence. The aspects fill our fishing nets, and enrich the earth for our crops. It is by their grace alone that we survive. Remember them in everything, my kindred souls. We must place them in our hearts, upon the highest pedestal there is. Above our family, above our lives, above love. Keep them with you always, and you will never be lost in your doings upon the earth. They will not forget you, their children of the forests. “Thou shalt not bear falsities, for thy faith is the way of truth” No society on this green earth may work without trust for one another. No manner of good unity or kindness can be founded upon lies. Even the delicate balance we’ve achieved with the world cannot be broken with lies and deception. If the aspects did not trust us to protect them, they would not give unto us the bounties of the earth. If we did not trust them to give us good food, and an abundant hunt, we would starve ourselves to our own deaths. We must not allow lies to slip into our society, or we all fall apart. Truth, no matter how heartbreaking, no matter how upsetting, must be told. Truth is goodness, and truth will set you free. Lies chain us to them, and they weigh us down. Can a hawk fly to the forest if it is weighed down with stones? It cannot, and we cannot be weighed down in the same way. We cannot hope to reach peace in our lives if we are tethered to discord with lies. It is the base of fault and allows corruption to exist. Without lies, we find goodness. Do that which is good, and no harm will come to you, nor your people. And when it comes to it, tell your truth. Though your heart may break, you cannot flinch! Speak your truth, and only good will come to thee. “Thou shalt remember thy kin, and shield them from the descendants of the world” We live in a world of grave threats and have been driven near to extinction many times by the other descendants. Uruks enslave us, chain us down with metal they have driven from the earth, steal our spirit away to provide base labor. Bortu delve into the earth and claw the stones and soil from their place. Humanity slaughters us, pushing blades into our throats, and they cover history in our blood. They took upon a false symbol of nature, mocking our own aspects, as they sent us to our own graves. If we are to continue, we must act together as a shield against the others. Mali must come first, before all others. We must push others away, and keep our home for our own. We cannot mix mali and non-mali,elf with others. History has shown that we cannot trust the descendants, that we will only ever be pushed down by them. Isolate yourselves from them, gather together, and we will survive. They cannot be allowed to take root in our forest halls, they cannot be allowed to lay with our brothers and sisters. Interbreeding with the other races is a great sin against our kind. We struggle enough without we doom our children to curses born from lust, or other such curses. We must attain purity in the sense that we keep our forested home for mali. Valah dare not lay claim to our soils. Uruk dare not enslave our people. We must help one another, and fight against the seeds of struggle such as I have told you. “Thou shalt strive in all things for the salvation of you and your people” While we consider our lives to have great value, this is not the case. Our lives are worth little without their continuation from this life to the next. Without hard-fought peace in our hearts, we hold little value, for we will be naught but dustcome our deaths. We cannot hope for legacy to live on, legacy is fickle, and will fade as soon as selfishness takes hold in our children. For mali, we can hope only to bring ourselves as close to the aspects as we can in our long lives, that they may shed some shred of mercy upon our weary souls. Look upon your own hearts before you look to others, take care they do not grow black with transgressions, lliran. Only they with pure hearts may speak on the sins of others, and bring them closer to the aspect’s light. Judge them not, for no judge upon earth is greater than the aspects above. Instead, push them toward the light, urge them yourselves to seek recompense for their trespasses, do this only after you’ve cleansed yourself. Lead others not into temptation, judge not their sins. Deliver them from evil into the light of pure goodness and life. “Thou shalt not give into baseless lust, and honor the sacred bonds of marriage” Lust tears the light from us, it leads us away from goodness and brings us to serve only ourselves. Think in devotion and love, not passion and lust. We are few, yet long-lived. While that may seem to call for senseless breeding, we cannot hope for it. It leads only to neglectful parents that may leave each other long before the child is grown, and cared for. Instead, we must devote ourselves to one, and give ourselves to them fully. Then we can provide together for our children, the children of you and of the forest. Children of the gods above, the aspects of the eternal forest. Blessed are children, yes. But blessed, even more, are parents that love and care for one another beyond base lust for the survival of our race. Blessed more are parents who createfamily, not just blood. Togetherness is sacred and children are, but the bonds of marriage are more so sacred. Baseless lust leads to far more problems, and can even bring others to interbreed out of love for another. Interbreeding is a baseless lust, it surely is. Whoever in their right mind would condemn an innocent child to a life of curses and horrors, a child born as clean as Cerridwen’s fingers? Give not into baseless lust, for your children will surely suffer if you do. “Life is precious, and thou shalt not murder” Life is the aspects most precious gift that hardly ever ends. It ends for us, yes for our lives eventually all cease, and all cry and clamor quiets in our life. But that life does pass on, into the world, into it all. We are part of the cycle, mali, valah, bortu, Uruk. They were all given life as well. And it is a great transgression to rip life from the world without due cause, without the slightest whisper of doubt in the mind that they must end to protect the lives of others. Murder is of the greatest transgressions of our people, for we number so few and far between. To tear one from the world causes great disruption in our balance, in the cycles of life. Even when our courts do deal justice, we must have unblinkable proof of guilt, and no doubt may yet creep into our hearts, lest we destroy the greatest of the aspects gifts without proper cause. Rites of Absolution Nature has no moral compass, as was made clear earlier. We serve as the path of morality, we serve as the patrons of right and wrong. The aspects have left us with a great freedom, in this sense, by leaving us to decide for ourselves what is right from wrong, and thus is the task of the Naelurir, to bring good and evil into nature. It is our divine duty to bring the followers of Aspectism into the light of goodness, to bring them back to a holier path, that they may also see the great green forests above, and find peace past their life’s end. When you leave on pilgrimage, on any journey, what do you take with you? Do you bring all of your belongings, all of your prized possessions and papers? Do you wheel your house behind you on a wagon? You do not, no. You take only what you need for the journey, you take only what is necessary. As with any journey, we cannot march through our lives carrying unnecessary weight, and we cannot be burdened with the weight of our wrongdoings and transgressions. No, we must march on with a clear conscience, all of us, both priest and devout. But we are imperfect beings, no? We commit many wrongdoings in our lives, and we trespass against our neighbors. We lie, we cheat, we stain the earth with each other’s blood and leave others defenseless against the crows that seek to feed upon mali. But all is not lost in this, no, there is hope for absolution. We need not carry our transgressions wheresoever we walk, but we cannot forget them. Instead, we must ask the mother and father for forgiveness, to cleanse us of our sins, however black they may be. By their righteous power, we must seek penance to lessen the load of life upon our backs. In my dreams, I have seen a ritual, a rite so powerful as to wash us clean of our transgressions and push us into a brighter future. I was sent this vision from on high, to give to you, my fellow mali, that we may all bathe in clean waters, that we may journey forward beyond this life with only what is necessary. I invite all to partake in this Rite of Absolution. Those touched by the aspects, those with the gifts, your priesthood. They must lead you on through this rite. They have been opened to the world by the aspects, they are closest to them. Go to them when you have trespassed against others, when you have committed these transgressions against your faith and people. You will speak your sins to them, all of them. Conceal nothing within you, for the aspects will see all. To go to your priesthood speaks goodness within you, it speaks a wish to return to the green light of the aspects. You must seek out penance, a priest will not find you. The green light will not find its way into you if you will not seek it out. If you cannot recognize your own wrongdoings, you cannot find the light. Search always within yourself for these, and you will find the way back to the green faith. Bring with you a sacrifice. A true sacrifice from you to the aspects. Penance cannot be given without great self-sacrifice, for there must be a balance. Fret not on your sacrifice, to be cleansed of guilt is a gift of itself. Burn it in the brazier that you may send it up to the aspects above. Only then will they look upon you, through the priest, only then can you be given true penance. Repeat this sacred prayer with your priest, send it up on high; In Elven; “O' Haelun, O' Maln Kae sul sioln uhiere, ay'khelan ito kae'leh narnsae, avern'ehya ito kae'leh. nae ormartillun kae illerih, ay'kae elnarnsae'taynei uhiere, karin'ento. kae'leh anniln ito iyl, ay'iyl karinah karinan'ehya orento, karin'ento.” In Common Tongue; "O Mother, O Father I seek light alone, for my path is full of darkness, and I wander without purpose. May you grant me forgiveness, for I seek the emerald path. It will be my guide, for this sunrise and all those ahead." After such, the priest will bid you a task, a task meant to atone for your transgressions. While the aspects may have given you peace, you must put the world at peace, your people at peace. Only then can you be fully returned to the side of light. After, bathe yourself in clean waters, feel your sins fall away, and the burdens lifted from your shoulders. This is the path to peace that I have seen in my heart and in my mind. Let you follow it closely. The Circle of Life We live in a cycle of life and death, do we not? The birds and trees die out, but there is ever a forest standing, no? Songbirds fill the air, do they not? We are ever surrounded by life, yet death lurks and strikes here and there. No matter how oft or how heavy death’s strikes may be, life ever moves on. I suppose what I’m trying to say is life finds a way no matter what you may put in it’s path. Nations rise and fall, peoples die out, forests are burned to the ground. But life goes on, and so it goes. We must keep this in our hearts and in our minds wherever we would walk, we must remember this circle. This is why priests have taken to signing a circle over their heart, for they know it to be the truest way of the world. Things go on and on, life spirals and they are a part of the circle of life. It surrounds them, this steadfast balance. To keep it with them always, they mark it on their own body, they circle their hearts before meals, during trying times as a reminder of the circle that goes round and round. It is also for this reason that many a good aspectist will tattoo the very circle of life onto their body somewhere, to show the world what they’ve dedicated their souls to protecting. To imprint their very duty onto their bodies, no matter how big or small, shows great dedication, and our people may look to it as a symbol of spiritual wellness, the symbol of a guide for days to come. This I call the symbol of our priesthood, of the Naelurir. Show the world who you are, lliran. Never forget it, for the aspects will not. Show this symbol wherever you can lliran, mark it as a prayer to the aspects above, that the cycle be maintained. Do it before meals, before hunts, when your family is sick, when great change occurs in your life. Carry it with you as a shield, and the aspects light will guide your way. Mark is even on your body. The world will see your good example and follow you into the light of goodness. Teach it unto others, spread the good word. Blessed be unto the Aspects. Blessed be. [!] This tome was sent out to all the Naelurir, of all rank and number. A tome from Awaiti Aureon. [!]
  14. The Bird Soared and Securely Over Mine Kingdom As published 8th of The Deep Cold 1659 " The Mali'Aheral people must not only spout superiority, they must show it. What are you waiting for? Show it brethren." ~Ah'Sohaer Cenwall Maeyr'onn A wise man once said that all things come to an end.... I Ah’Sohaer, the first of his title hereby write my resignation of both my positions-- Sohaer and Maheral of our blessed people effective immediately. Let the official voting of my successor begin. I will end my term with a story of a simple mali’aheral who hoped for more… Atathri Glaeus. A sickly name to give a child, cursed snake. He was a simple child running away from home, ready to take on this world like none other would… first to the famed Enchantry where he would learn from and meet the greatest magicians in the world. He stood, scar on his left eye, standing in the freezing cold mountains shouting at their gates-- a mali with no knowledge of magic. Bold this pure High Elf was… this boldness would only make none other than the grand leader of the Enchantry to greet him and accept him into their hold… this is where his journey to the Arcane began…This is where he met the most influential magis of our times, where he shed his scar to be wholly pure of form… transformed into Cenwall Glaeus. Cenwall Glaeus would seek to return to Haelun’or, the true home of all mali’thill. This is where he would see ruin, decadence and decay. Shocked his people would be so down-trodden, he saw how the council clung to power yet did nothing with such power. In such distress he met who elves only would call “Fruit Fly”. This man offered a job in what was called the ETHIC at the time, and Cenwall soon grew into an officer of such a force. Integration into the armed forces of the Silver State of Haelun’or was desired by the order. They only wished to protect, yet the council feared them-- they were a force believed could tear down their fake curtain of power. Soon we were thrown out the city as traitors… the first lesson of his life, power. During this time, the Mali’Aheral people stayed in a campsite awarded to them by the Empire of Oren… this is where Cenwall Glaeus met his father Carvalon Maeyr’onn, his true father… A great nephew of one of the founders of Haelun’or-- Nelecar Maeyr’onn, the Lion and first military leader under Maheral Dio. Carvalon was a strict man and soon it was seen between Cenwall and Carvalon their relationship. This is where Cenwall Glaeus was remade into his true form... a Maeyr’onn. Andria, a beautiful elven High Elven woman saw their distress… she too was tired of the lethargy and was a Maheral of old. Soon they led our troops through the streets, weaponless, however extremely zealous in our drive to fix the lethargy which had rested in the leadership-- a result of the recent age of countless coupings. This was to be the final the High Elven people would bear. In what can only be called the Night of Remembrance, the ETHIC drove the councilors from the city and put Andria as Maheral for the reconstruction of their city, for it was half-built and destroyed. Cenwall Maeyr’onn-- myself would grow from the military and into politics, for a vote for a new council under the new administration under Maheral Andria. Soon the people would vote, and so they did. I became Okarir’Maehr, librarian of the Eternal Library of Haelun’or… the most respected of all offices in Haelun’or. It was done, and I moved swiftly to make deals earning knowledge and teaching the people. First a deal with Dragur Library to refill their library and a refilling of the battered and crumbling library of Haelun'or. This is where I learned my second lesson in life, persistence. Tending to the library was not enough for me, I went to making deals with various nations to collect knowledge and gain contact throughout the realms. This was where Andria saw my potential… she absent from my knowledge of this time. This absence would haunt her in her later days of me remembering her. It was a quiet day and I can only see her in the Eternal Library reading the books… she looked tired. I approached and she told me of her coming resignation. Shocked, I wondered who would take her place. It was me… my third lesson, peace. So this was also done, I was named Maheral Cenwall Maeyr’onn-- it was then I had unlimited powers. The system and city had no hope to thrive much longer, I had to revitalize it for our people. I installed twelve councilors, though such was against my main goal of phasing out the ones who only sought power but not wishing to put in the work for the people. I wished for loyalty and through these times it would be what would test me as a leader the most. The city was rebuilt by famed builder Elrith, still a loyal and masterful builder to this day-- the man who built Okarn’thilln of today. With the city built and shrunk to consolidate materials, I waited for those who had devious tendencies to strike. The first week, I was tending the outer realms of the world. I heard of an impending attack and coup under my nation. I rushed back to swiftly end the threat with diplomacy, the leader of such would be my first military leader… my fourth lesson, diplomacy. Such would not be my first threat of ruin-- I heard talks of my second in command at the time Cinh’llytn or now known and banished Lyu Elibar’acal talking of coup behind my back. Whispers long before I had loyal men protecting me at all times. Ralnor, an ex-Sohaer told me of such and pushed me to act. I in my young and brash self went to move. Arelion Laurir’ante, an elven man that I had not known much at the time sent the letter for him to join us. It was their that I personally moved to sentence his fate and kicked him in molten lava… such an action would haunt me in my nights alone-- it was this moment killing this elf where I learned my important lesson, culture and security. The mali’aheral people were furious with my killing of a pure-blooded High Elf. The Maheral, “most pure” doing these actions even moreso. I heard whispers of another coup sprouting, yet I knew such had to be done for the security and steady progress of our people… this is when I met my most roudy ally, Athedil Haler’thilln-- a proud and astute old High Elven man. We both came to the conclusion of the importance of the separation of the state and culture. To appease my enemies and restore proper progress of our state I announced the reinstatement of Sohaer and announced Athedil as the new Maheral, where I learned my fifth lesson in life, separation of powers. During this time, during the end of Axios I learned of the secret natures of people-- the greed. One after another my councilors turned on me, attack after attack, yet I survived all of the attacks. It separated the loyal people from the snakes and it gave me more power to bring true security to the state and enact all enemies of the state removed. First the purging of frost witches from Haelun’or, then the purging of all Dark Magi. For the first time in centuries I had created an age of security and an age of progress. My greatest mistake was allowing a wood elf to command my forces. I wished to integrate the lesser elves in our lands-- seeing all elves together as integral to the growth and security of all elves… this was when I realized only a pure mali’aheral can truly lead. Our control of our emotions is the main ingredient in our superiority and it showed during the day of flames when Rhillen, the wood elf threw alchemist's fire on our own men in a stressed battle, ruining our chances of thwarting the coup of the wood elven lands under Awaiti Aureon. The momentum of our people was staggered during this time, and the land of Axios was coming to an end. This is where we come to Atlas… a new land and new opportunity for our people and others. I reformed the government and fixed the problem of top-heavy government. I chose only the most loyal to the people and the state, and alternatively the most zealous in the build-up of our state. Arelion Laurir’ante remained my most loyal friend during this time and to this day. During this time we formed the Sohaerate, formed under the pretence of our ancient alliances and common cultures, negotiated by Varen’thal the current diplomat of Haelun’or at the time. Together we would push forward and in time we saw slow and steady buildup of our power as a state. I set up to making checks and balances of power, even my own and created a voting system in which future governments could properly use. The transfer of power was established and I created new laws alongside Ceruberr to institute Talonni families on the blueprint granted to me by Andria. Soon I met Odessa Visaj, who implored me to recreate the Eternal College to teach our youth and so it was done. For once in a long time our people had hope for the future and steadily we have grown… now we are in the present. War is on the horizon, not a war I wished for but a war of defence in the face of an aggressor-- Renatus-Marna and his allies wishing to attack Norland in attempt to recreate the Orenian Empire and the possible beginnings of a war with The Dominion of Malin who wishes to be a miniture Orenian Empire, killing unarmed High Elven leaders in their gates… I can only hope my people survive the coming times in peace… I rest my hopes in the lessons I taught them during my rule. Such resignation may be heartbreaking to most, for so long we have been steadily progressing the state. Fourty years of memories, security, and hope for the Mali’aheral people under my tenure. First as Okarir’Maehr, then as Maheral, Then as Sohaer, then as both Maheral and Sohaer at once, Ah’Sohaer. I have been blessed by the Silver State and I wish the best for it in the future. May we peacefully transfer power as was done during Andrias departure of power... This is my story, the foundation of the state is there, we as a people just need to stay together and strong against the perils of the world. Together we are strong, alone we are weak. I leave on a journey of self reflection toward the wilds as Larihei herself likely is doing... I did my job. … The bird soared and securely over mine kingdom. MAEHR'SAE HIYLUN'EHYA Signed by, Ah’Sohaer of the Silver Sohaerate of Haelun’or, Cenwall Maeyr’onn Patriarch of the Maeyr’onn Talonnii, Guided by Larihei’s Grace in his Blessed Rule, Laurir and Malaurir of Mali’thill, Sovereign of the High Elven People, Protector of Silver Law and Overseer of the Kharajyr State.
  15. ashenyx

    Simon Birchenwald

    (Since I’m still trying to draw a decent picture of the guy, I have decided to just give Simon a description for now.) Appearance- Simon is tall and wiry, without much muscle and with even less fat. He has a large, thick mane of dark blond hair, which he usually pulls back into a ponytail. Thanks to his father’s genetics, the hair is fast greying. He has really awful facial hair (think Van Hohenheim, but with a horrible, scraggly goatee as well as weird sideburns). Simon is usually seen wearing a frayed dark blue waistcoat over a white shirt, with brown trousers and dark grey boots. He also has disproportionately large hands and long fingers. Height: 6 feet, 4 inches Weight: 160 lbs Hair color: Dark blond, sparse grey streaks Eye colour: Reddish brown Age currently: 30 Simon (pronounced SEE-moan) was born in 1639 in Norland, the illegitimate son of a Heartlander citizen (Ellen Sterling) and an Adunian named Andreas. He was not neglected as a child; however, he was teased by other children and called names for being fatherless. One such name (Birch-forest, for his thick golden hair) stuck, and Simon took it as his surname. He grew to be a reasonably healthy young man, with nimble fingers and skill in brewing. When Simon turned 17, a family tragedy was blamed on him. Having watched what little reputation he had left crumble, Simon became a nomad until his 22nd year, when moved to Haense. He lives in Markev at 2 Red Square and owns a restaurant aptly named “SOUP AND PIE”. It sells soup and pie, among other things. Traits: Physically weak- Simon is, to put it simply, a wimp. He cannot lift heavy things or fight well. His only strength on the battlefield is archery. If made to fight against any random bandit, Simon would lose very easily. He can, however, run fast. Impulsive- Simon is rather intelligent for his species, though he sometimes (lots of times) lets his impulses cloud his judgement. He tends to do whatever he thinks sounds fun at the moment, and to throw caution to the wind. It’s not like he doesn’t recognise the risk- it’s that he simply does not care. Chef- Simon has a knack for cooking, which he has taken advantage of with his restaurant. His specialties are stews and pumpkin pie. Loud- Simon tends to speak loudly, especially when drunk. Random fun facts- Simon has a faint German accent, which tends to thicken the drunker he gets. Simon is extremely protective of his awful facial hair, and thinks that it makes him look stylish. Others do not share his sentiment. Simon taught himself to read and write. He has awful handwriting and spells things wrong. Simon is bisexual.
  16. joserockstar23

    A Kidnapping [RP]

    16th of the Snow's Maiden, 1658 an orc from Krugmar has decided to put a target on Belle de Hartcold from the de Hartcold family because her father, Thomas de Hartcold, was being obnoxious to an orc named Vashqirt. If any other orc happens to find her, AND take her to Krugmar as a slave- will be paid 800 mina. Belle de Hartcold can be described with long light blonde hair and green eyes. Keep your eyes peeled.
  17. GaiaLoTC

    Between Wrath and Harmony

    The stone walls were stained a sinister crimson, and one lone bead of blood trailed below it, reaching somewhere halfway between the floor and the mark. Nearby, the statues of Cernunnos and Cerridwen stood, illuminated only by dim candlelight. Before them sat a small basin of still water, motionless before them. Before them, a small, troubled girl sat, blood dripping from her knuckles where they had collided with the wall. It had been months since she had last sent a prayer to the heavens, months since she knelt before them and tried speaking, and it showed on her form. Beneath her eyes, dark circles took place. Her hair was cut short, uneven. Her robes were unwashed, uncared for. This had not been the first night she lashed out in her own quarters, striking at walls or the occasional glass. She had hardly even tended to the orphanage, allowing her other staff to tend to the children out of fear of herself. Like many as of late, she was taken by rage at the actions of her fellow members of the faith. Words hissed at her from every corner of her mind, pricking and pinching at her psyche. Voices that were not her own screamed at her curses that set her skin aflame, and sent the hairs on the back of her neck upright in chills. Months ago, she had been angry that she had done nothing, that through her gentleness, corruption had been allowed to take root in her faith and in her city. She had believed her passivity made her weak, a coward that simply allowed things to be. And it was true, yes. But when she had turned to strike with an iron fist, the world cried out ‘brute’, and she could not fathom why. And this brought her here, in her room where she sat alone. Awaiti struck out with a roar, flipping the basin into the ceiling, causing a cascade of water to pour over her. It landed with a clatter, and she only found herself drenched, seething. Water quietly dripped from her chin as she looked forward between the statues. She did not understand what she had done wrong, nor what to do. She would not pray, no. No longer would she sit and just hope for things to improve. She looked to the lessons she had learned once more, hoping to find some missed truth to guide her. “The faith needs compassion and mercy more than anything, Awaiti. The Naelurir needs you to be you.” The words Artimec spoke to her rang out in her ears. It only infuriated her more. Compassion does not keep your people safe in the night. Compassion does not serve as a shield when a man decides to cut you down! Compassion is weak. She thought back, remembering the screams she had heard in the square, the people that cursed her down, roared at her when she struck back against a creature that defied her faith. She had done right by her faith that day, she told herself. She had upheld the tenants of the Naelurir and fought a creature that defied nature. But in doing so, she was roared down, ridiculed, insulted. Called a failure by her own people. She did not understand why, she had finally stood up for what she believed in, but she certainly did not get the reaction she expected. Compassion had not worked. Cruelty had not worked. Kindness had not worked. Brutality had not worked. Nothing she tried worked. Awaiti rose with trembling legs, moving over to her bag. She rooted around, staining the side of the bag red as she moved her hand inside. She took out a jar, uncorking it to which she withdrew a small herb. She reached in again, taking out a small pipe, which she put the herb inside of, lighting it up. Shaking, she placed the pipe in her mouth, taking a deep breath of the smoke. Smoke filled the room as the minutes passed, and eventually, the room began to spin and spiral before Awaiti fell back against the bed, collapsing against the frame. When she awoke, the cave had opened into a dark, cloudy sky, where thunder cracked off in the distance. Thick haze filled her vision, and smoke clouded the air around her. Around the new island, a deep black sea threatened to swallow the island as heavy waves crashed against the sides of the rock, spraying the air with water. She scrambled to her feet, looking around. In the distance, water and air swirled together in the form of a hurricane, howling louder than a hundred wolves. There was nothing else around for as far as the eye could see, only her small island in the sea. She was completely vulnerable to the storm. She had nothing that could save her. It grew ever closer, the waves around her island reaching new heights that threatened to swallow her whole. She could not face the storm, she could not fight it. Raw force would not save her. She could not run. Nor could she cry out to the gods. Mercy would not help her today. In the inevitability of the coming storm, she merely collapsed to her knees, bowing before the storm. The earth beneath her hands parted as she dug her hands into the stone. And then she merely breathed a moment, allowing the world to howl and cry. Allowing the waves to crash into the island. She only breathed. And all became clear just before the hurricane hit. All at once, the girl erupted into fae energies, causing a cascade of white and green light to reach out, creating a shell around her. But it did not stop there, reaching out even further to the storm that now engulfed the island. The waves crashed against the tendrils of light, and against the shell that surrounded her, but did not touch her. At this, she stood, crying out into the storm as the energies mixed with the gale, creating a typhoon of water and light that danced around her. She stood in marvel, standing silently as the shell began to envelop the island. Slowly, the eye of the storm reached the island, and all was quiet. Awaiti could see the storm all around her, swirling. But it was no longer dark. While the storm was upset, raging around her, the energy had silenced all but a gentle breeze. She was in control of the storm, through her own will and power. It was not chaotic, nor was it quite peaceful. It was in an odd place, somewhere between wrath and harmony. Awaiti stood, and quietly whispered “Fall.” And the storm flipped on itself. All at once, water surrounded Awaiti in waves and crashes, and the world fell in on itself. She could see the ocean in every direction, east and west, up and down. All the water had mixed with the light, and before long, settled beneath her. The hurricane did not finish whirling though, and the island sat now in the center of a maelstrom, which raged around her powerfully, yet silently. And all faded into darkness. The girl awoke, glancing about the darkened room. Roots had bitten through the walls, poking down into the cavern. She slowly sat up, lowering her head before she thought to herself. “True power comes from somewhere between wrath and harmony-... I am no longer Sister Orison who prays, I must be more than that. But I will not be held by violence. I must fall between, and lay in the eye of the storm." "I am Sister Hurricane.” ((Hey everyone, just doing a quick little post to signify the change of Awaiti's totem, leave some feedback if you'd like))
  18. [!] Another letter is placed at the base of the steps of the shrine to the aspects in the Sparrow Grove, now with a small nightingale statuette to accompany it. We come with more songs to sing, Despite our peaceful efforts to fan the flames of faith, we are met with opposition on many fronts. Members of the Dominion’s government have torn aspectist altars down, despite identifying ourselves as members of the great faith. These altars did not intrude, nor did they block any such passage through the city. They sought them out and destroyed them. Since, we have placed numerous altars in secret that now stand. It is a great shame that we must hide our faith from the lords of elvenesse, lest we risk the destruction of aspectist monuments. It is in these times of great strife when we must be strongest. Druids of the mother circle seek to root out many of our strongest members, leaving the rest to the wolves. And perhaps we would stand a better chance if members of our own faith would not betray their own order. Archdruid Willow has gone against the very tenants of our order, taking matters into his own hands when the Archdruids should have been in agreement. We, the Naelurir are now under assault by members of the government, the mother grove, and our own leaders. The faith must be stronger than ever to survive. Tread with caution Naelurir The Nightingale of Caras Eldar
  19. The Nightingales of Caras Eldar

    First Letter from the Nightingales, 1656

    [!] A short letter is dropped in front of the aspecist shrine in the sparrow grove during the quietest hours of the night by a hooded figure. To my fellow priests and priestesses of the Naelurir, I am angry at our faith. Angry not at its followers, but at its inability to motivate them. All around, I see mali who fail to see through the eyes of the true faith. It is our duty as priests and priestesses to open their eyes, and we are failing to do so. Voidal mages and dark beings run amock through this blessed city, and the faith lies silent. Caras Eldar is a city of opportunity, such an opportunity for elves to thrive. They call it the ‘Jewel of Elvendom’. Why then is it that I see our faith dying out like a flickering candle in the wind, like a tear in the rain? A jewel does not flicker or fade. Why have we squandered this chance we’ve been given? In these coming days, we must let faith guide us before all else. I have seen better from my people, I have seen better from us all. I know that you, the followers of the emerald way, are destined for far greater than the sanctified halls of Caras Eldar. I believe in you, my fellow priests. You can help bring our people into the light of a dawning age of faith. I am the Nightingale of Caras Eldar, and I wish only to see our people return their eyes to the faith. This Nightingale has many songs to sing, and you will hear from us more. History has its eyes on you, mali'lliran. As do the aspects. The Nightingale of Caras Eldar
  20. HELPHesRobbingME

    rewriting

    rewriting
  21. Hello my friends. Due to the Forum's templating and general lack of appealing formatting, please refer to this link to view my Character Sheet. Enjoy! https://tinyurl.com/yalkqdq3 Wiki Link; https://wikia.lordofthecraft.net/index.php?title=Prince_Henry_Richard
  22. (Please respond to this with more than one word answers, any such examples will be requested to be removed as unconstructive feedback). Read this if you’re unfamiliar with how villain applications used to work https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/97301-villain-application-rules-30/?tab=comments#comment-881414 (Before I start I’d like to reaffirm that this suggested application is for some of the most severe (and most needed to be regulated) evils one can commit, evils that can either make or break someone else’s rp and/or cause toxicity oocly as has been seen in recent events and in my opinion for quite some time now. These modified evils are not evils that would hinder the development of average characters as there would be exceptions in some cases where a player can get past if they are in the right position and making sense in rp to do so and in so being only relevant to characters that are genuine villains). Now, to the point. Villain rp has been and is continuing to degrade, very much often being used for petty ooc disputes and harrassing, pure self gain and is making rp unfun for many of the players on the server and in some cases completely ruining it due to abuse and repetitiveness with no sight of change, spontaneity, originality and not being done with the best interests of fun in mind. The added fact is that this will reintroduce a long lost part of RP that was a very enjoyable aspect of the server that since the removal of VAs and subsequently the removal of lockpicking chests (and replacing it with the incredibly unspontaneous, boring and rare system of heists) has been sparse to the point of nonexistence. Actual criminal RP, when I say criminal, I don’t mean villain. A villain could be a tyrant who treats his people like animals and kills or maims at his leisure or a holy knight that disposes of heretics and those that don’t believe in what he believes as the one true faith, this kind of rp is already prevalent in the server and is quite fun, though only really in my opinion when there is a contrast of villain to this besides part time crooks (i.e. part time bandits). A criminal would be for example, someone that disregards the law in pursuit of a better life, excitement, fame or simply due to insanity and would steal, rob, cheat, kill, etc in order to get there, a thin(ish) line I know. Career criminals are pretty much all gone, someone who’s a criminal 100% of the time and not just when it suits him or her in getting something out of it. This could be a burglar that runs a pawn shop in the city he operates in, who breaks into people’s homes then sells them to unsuspecting customers, a serial killer who only murders women because his mother abused him, leaving clues and trails behind for the guard. These are all things that happened before and done in fun ways because of VAs encouraging people to be decent rpers and look to provide fun not gain or spite. The types of Evils 1a - Lockpicking chests (with the same 20% rule as before, only allowing the thief to take that amount).This would hopefully be done like it was back when it was a thing outside of heists, via a modreq, once a building has been burgled successfully or unsuccessfully it would be put under a cooldown of a day or two (maybe more) from any other attempts at burglary from anyone, this wouldn’t be an ooc sign left outside of the house, simply a note made from the previous gm. 2a - Unprovoked killing outside of war claims with the exception of killing out of strong emotions or by accident (possibly being something that needs permission from the victim to attempt). May be permitted in raids for non VA holders if a captain for every 3 men has a VA, as the men involved would just be following orders. This can involve any type of killing without causing them severe pain bordering into torture, if you want to be a serial killer without being a psychopath you can though you would still need to state your reason for being how you are and also have a specific group/groups that you target and why.. Murder out of strong emotion would be for example that someone killed a relative or close friend and is boasting about it in front of you, the accidental murder aspect could be when you’re in a drunken fist fight, or training and the opposing player emotes getting killed by one of your blows. This would not include fighting someone with a sharp sword and trying not to hurt them too bad. If you are an official guard/soldier of a city where a crime has been committed however, you will still be able to kill said criminal if they try to attack you after resisting arrest, though not if they run, if they run you may down them and proceed to taking them to jail. If they come with you without resistance you may also publicly execute them without an app if the crime they have committed is worthy of such a punishment under your own city’s laws. Another exception would be, should a player be kidnapped and forced into fighting one another to the death under threat of their own demise, as I wouldn’t see this example among others as a malicious crime and more so under the fact that they would be fighting for their lives. 2b - Enslaving and ransoming (for minas, exception being where nobles are traded in wartime) though possibly having an exception with Orcs who’s culture very much includes slavery. You would be allowed to buy slaves without the app however not sell them unless back to the seller or one of their associates (if they work in a group/guild for example). You would also be able to kidnap without the app. 3 - Severe torture, this isn’t required for just roughing someone up with your fists in an interrogation, this would be for if you’re character is the type of person to go to the extreme, flaying, eye gouging, ripping out the victim’s tongue, etc. 4 - Arson, obviously this is a tool that can be used for both good and evil oocly, so it would be heavily moderated and only be able to be done with plentiful rp and reasoning behind your character’s actions, making sure that it is not done out of spite. This would be permitted when the building owner is online, or the arsonist has acquired permission from the victim to commit the crime whenever they please. 5 - Psychopathy - I’ll quote Urasept from the previous villain app info for this one as they explain it rather well. Link to post - https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/97301-villain-application-rules-30/?tab=comments#comment-881414 “Insanity, Split Personalities, Uncontrollable Actions (Side note - This means if you have a disorder that makes you act in a villainous way. Like say your calm one moment, and your disorder flairs up and you all of a sudden want to kill the closest person to you.)” The Application (To be changed to whatever is more suitable) This application is pretty much the old one, however without the biography part as that was quite unnecessary, however all of the other questions seem to be logical and fair. Written I believe by Urasept, or at least posted by them. You can find the original here https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/97301-villain-application-rules-30/?tab=comments#comment-881414 Out of Character Info: MC name: How many characters do you currently play: How many of those characters currently hold VA’s. Please link their accepted VA’s here.: Have you had any ban reports / revokes against you, if so please link them: Do you feel yourself as responsible enough to be able to provide proper and fair roleplay scenarios to those around you? Since villain rules change, it is your responsibility to check them frequently for any changes. Failure to check them for changes will not be admissible should a player / revoke report made against you. Do you acknowledge and agree to this? Are you aware that purposely attempting to provoke ‘loopholes’ within said rules may end up with your application being revoked depending on the severity of the situation? In Character Info Character Name: Character Age: Character Alignment (Lawful Good, Neutral, Lawful Evil, etc.): What kind of villain are you looking to play? With that in mind, what evils are you applying for and why? What moral boundaries does your character adhere too, if any? What are some notable strengths and weaknesses of your character? What might cause him/her to falter? Include things such as temptations, addictions, physical handicaps, etc.: ------------------- The reason I strongly suggest having a form of Villain apps return is simply because I believe that they are necessary as Villain rp is different to other kinds of rp in one way, if done poorly, ignorantly, or half heartedly it can ruin someone else's RP. This suggestion of a completely different type of app may not completely remove the problem as this issue seems too big to be solved completely by one change, but I strongly believe that it will help very much so in going towards helping address it. All in all I think VAs being removed has caused more problems than it's fixed in that, it seems more toxicity seems to be spreading since the day everyone was permitted to pursue this challenging type of RP, also the fact that it pretty much entirely removed a whole type of RP and segregated its players due to lockpicking being removed shortly after VAs, I'd also blame Mechanical default and restrictions/limitations in many ways but that’s another topic.
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