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Sorrows of a Violet “No one was around so you decided to come out personally?!” Sentences echo inside of the elfess’s head. “You have a precious position in the entire Kingdom and you went out all on your own? This is why you’re always needed to be babysat!” The elfess sat there in her bar, alone like usual. A glass of wine as her only company, but she couldn’t complain, wine always did help her forget. “You got this badly hurt and you still say you’re fine?!” The elfess takes sip, trying to block out all the noise. “When will you stop worrying me, Suika…” She takes another sip, pain was something she had grown used to…physical, mental, emotional, she’s grown used to it all, to this elf, pain was just another normal feeling. “You wish to learn the arts of healing without being healed yourself…hmmm?” Finally she feels warm tears begin to stream down her face, it seems that that’s all she’s been doing for the past few years. Smiling in front of her loved ones and letting the tears flow down her cheeks when she sits alone. The elfess closes her eyes, trying to remember when she was truly happy, when she really had no worries…and within her own mind she sees a woman, her golden sunlight eyes were something the elfess would never forget, and her sweet voice was one that this elfess always found comfort in. “Medea, my Little Lion.” The elfess would smile, remembering the sweet yet powerful voice of her mother. She was a woman this elfess looked up to from the very first day they met, someone that Medea did her best to fight for and be strong for, even though sometimes it feels hard to do so. Remembering her mother always did bring a smile to her face but that smile only lasts for a few seconds cause she knows she will never get to hear that voice in the real world again. “Mon Cheri..I'm sorry.” Another gentle voice she remembers, the man she married, the man she shared many loving memories with, the man she had beautiful children with, surely the voice of this man is what brings her joy? It did…for a long time…until he left her and she was alone once more. “I leave Vikela in your hands now, sister.” Another sweet voice that Medea misses, a voice she knows she will also never get to hear again, surely her sister is peacefully resting with her mother now. All of a sudden the search for a good memories turns into torture. “You’re reckless.” “Stop acting like a child” “Think before you act.” “You’re not doing it right.” “Work harder.” “You’re going to get us killed.” “You’re weak.” “You will never be good enough.” The elfess feels herself drowning in despair. “When will I be enough…” Surrounded by love, surrounded by family, surrounded by friends, yet this elf finds herself feeling lonely, feeling guilt, feeling hopeless. “How do I be better for them..?” “How do I become a better mother..?” “How do I become a better partner…?” Questions she asks herself everyday. Questions that sinks her deeper and deeper into her despair, and the further she falls, the harder it becomes to crawl back to the surface…the harder it becomes to make her way back to the light.

A Monologue of an Elfess 𓂃 ࣪˖ʚїɞ ⋆⋅•⋅⊰ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⊱⋅•⋅⋆ “Do you wish to be free of this? Serve the Harrower, give a sacrifice and you shall be let go.” a muffled voice of a man, unable to pinpoint what he was other than the monotonous tone and lack of expression from the helmet that shielded his identity. I stand before him in pain, shivering, and light headed. I am scared… He gives me a knife that had already been coated with red, I gaze at how this very blade was on someone’s stomach not long ago. I’m really scared…. I hesitated, he had let the woman go earlier but was freedom worth it if I would be enslaved by whatever being they serve? No…I was scared of it, the last bit of bravery I had was spent on using that very knife to attack him but it was met with my own pain on the face. I’m terrified of what will happen now. “The Harrower will get his harvest one way or another and you will beg me to save you…” his voice echoed as I was drifting off, I felt it pouring out, the red that slowly spread on the beautiful white snow. What could have changed before I reached this point? I don’t know, I’m feeling numb and my fear is all that keeps me awake. The strange voices, the ominous gaze, I really am…scared right now. ...one....two....three...four...five...I look down and became confused, I can only count to five on my hand, where's the other five? (do not metagame this information)

~Lapê Salavi's travel logs~ [a retranscription] DAY 4 Today, I was not aware, was feast day! We are welcomed by urguan to their grand feast. I headed towards the west and lost no time visiting for once, being right on time for the festivities. There were more people than I had seen in a while. Impressing. I even passed across a cleric I had met before. They were from the city, I realized, and handing out drinks and foog. I got 2 bottles and not wanting to drink at the moment, I decided to put my “Copper Boot Cocktail” and “dwarven Potatoe vodka” in my cellar I created back home. The ambiance was cheerful, but I was never fond of crowds, and it was getting exhausting. I stepped out the room and found a hot water pond upstairs. What a true gift of nature. The first thing I noted was that the city was remarkably well built, in hollowed out mountains. The inhabitants seemed keen on alcohol-making. The tavern where the feast took place had a lovely balcony side, and had a view on vines and moss. A lift up and I was on the upper level of the city, which I had not expected. Smells of well kept but old paper filled up my nose as I entered the immense library. The building was surely strange, with rooms I did not know the purpose of, a dark glowing pillar and an empty dark room. The city being composed of 80% walls, it made room for intimacy and different aesthetics from street to street. And then, the forge. Other visitors from Norland passed through me as my breath was stolen by the sight. In the mountain was a number of caves all filled to the brim with deep grey bricks, fire and a sorting of industrial machines, carriers and furnaces. I can’t begin to think the years of work it took to create this place, and the nation has all rights to be proud of it. The mines linked to it were fruitful. Reminder: explore Bjorn’s crack under the citadel

~Lapê Salavi's travel logs~ [a retranscription] DAY 2 On my road I heard people talking about a strange religion, about correcting the wrongs that we had suffered. I followed a few strange folks and met with 4 other people in the big house of #####, in the United Kingdom of Aaun. An old person, a kid, a mysterious soul and a grey-skinned cleric, and me, all gathered in a meeting room. The atmosphere was to secrecy and many words were spoken. It was all a bit too much for me and most of the explanation on the origins of the religion left me disoriented. What I was sure of is that some kind of magic was involved, as illusions surrounded us, the lights died and lit up at will. Once the speech ended, most excused themselves and disappeared. I was new to the region and decided to walk around and explore a bit. The place was very weirdly mapped and I got lost multiple times trying to leave the city. At last I found a dirt road and went on my way to Aaun. I didn’t spend a lot fo times in the capital, the activity being high in the town center. I visited a few merchants to replenish in food and took the opportunity to head for the local mines. I had to get help from a townsman as the entrance was not very well indicated, gathered interesting ores and left, this time without stranding off my path. Alone again, it was time I went to a place that had got my interest a few years prior: Norland. The travel wasn’t long and I walked around town a bit. It was night, so I headed to the inn for the night. When I entered the maing room upstairs, I was met with a discussion that seemed much like an argument. Someone was departing, people weren’t happy about it. I felt like I was intruding so I asked where I could find a place to spend the night and eventually a steward to talk about housing and prices. I vaguely knew they were the ones in charge of the taxes and rentings in every city, hence why i wanted to contact one. Contrary to what I feared, I felt good in Norland, and despite being a traveler, I had to have a return point, a place to call home at the end of my journey, and maybe make friends along the way. Everyone was so warm and welcomed towards me, barely mentionning my attire. The north reminded me of where I grew up, so it was set, I wanted to home there. A person named Farian Malto welcomed me to the Inn while I was without bedding. The discussion stirred and I was left with a newcommer, Sinner. Everyone knew her and she seemed kind, so I asked for her help. She knew the stewart, and also that the Inn was under a clan’s control, therefore I couldn’t stay. Knowing Alva, the steward, wasn’t available and probably grumpy at the hour, we headed outside and I was invited to share the home of Sinner and Farian, seemingly acquainted. I was given a spare key and I finally had a bed to rest and let the days of travel wash over me. -L.S.

~Lapê Salavi's travel logs~ [a retranscription] DAY 1 After a week of lonely travelling trough the forest I was glad to finally see civilization again. I had left my village and parents without hesitation and I felt liberated, but the repetitive task of walking, drinking and eating at regular intervals, and being surrounded by the sounds of birds and wind through the leaves had stopped being fun after the first few days. A lot of thoughts were swarming my mind and I needed a distraction. It all changed when I got out of the forest to be met with a lovely town on a coast. The most shocking detail was how small were the houses and doors. It all came to light when I met Mimoda Applefoot , a kind halfling. She was the temporary mayor of the Shiredom of Dùnwen It was my first time seeing one, and I was offered to stay and rest at the inn. I decided against and continued my visit. The crops where huge and I heard they were fine alcohol makers, are they an agricultural nation? I would love to taste their products once they're available. The garden was lovely as well and everything felt cozy and welcoming, quiet but warm. I had seen a mouse hole, a slow turtle and a hedgehog that managed to say “hark” at me. I didnt have enough time to map the while city but I wrote this log today to remember to go back, during an event perhaps? After munching on a piece of bread, I decided to follow the signs pointing towards Haense and the Haenseti-Ruka dual principality. It was my initial goal, it being the only big city I had heard of outside of my secluded community. I left Haense at dawn. I didn't spend a long time there, but i noticed the stalls and housings were true to a city this big, and after taking a bit of ressources in the local mines, I went on my road again. The reason for my early departure and slight disappointment was the crowd. Too many people at the same place, all the talking became a constant buzzing and it started to be overwhelming. I will visit more thoroughly on a later date, but will avoid the festivities. However, for a first day of visiting and socializing, I feel so free and alive! No one asked about my masks and accepted me like I was a regular citizen, and this anonymity pleases my soul. -L.S.

The Battle of the Three Kingdoms A tale of Arcas, narrated by Swifty_Sam War, a common occurance on Arcas, had broken out once more. Three mighty armies rallied, baring their banners for battle. Commander Doctor Daniel began to give the men of the AIS the plan, the Orenian army exits their walls to face what they thought was just their sole enemy, the bandits of the Ruswick tower hid within the trees on the great Rubern Road- eyeing both armies like hawks ready to pounce. There was an eerie calm to the air, a silence before the chaos. Soft chirps of birds in the local forests- high up in the trees where the bandits lay waiting. The swoshing of water, the fluttering of the warm Southern wind. This peace was soon to be disturbed, as footsteps began to ring out throughout Arcas. The two largest armies known to man headed towards one another, one from the County of Rubern, and the other from the City of Oren. As both armies progressed down the road to meet at the centre point, the Ruswickian's began to circle around to gain an advantage behind the Orenian troops. Stragglers from both sides began to face off with the bandits who lay waiting for the weak, skirmishes on the outskirts of what began to be the largest scale skirmish in recent history. The AIS collided into the Orenian forces with determination, gritted teeth, and a masterful level of experience. Soon after the skirmish had begun, a clear winner was already being formulated- Orenian blood pouring onto the dirt. Ruswick, having flanked the Orenian forces, assisted in the victory just to meet their own fate when the AIS men ploughed through both Orenian and Ruswickian alike. The army of the Skull rampaged, frenzied, tore it's enemies apart until none remained. Chants, warcries from the mighty Kingdoms of the AIS rang out through the air. The Orcs of Krugmar, the humans of Morsgrad which came to be known as Norland, men of Rubern fighting for independence, and many more to note. Victory was assured, and this skirmish turned into a bloody, but successful War for this alliance.

The Lothranian Knight A tale of Arcas, narrated by Swifty Sam Laying in the meadows, where Rubern once stood. A brave Knight, wearing chainmail and a hood. He had slain those wreathed in red, black, and yellow. Most knew this man as a controversal fellow. Hadvar Av Mitteland, first of his name. His actions dispelled, cursed, brought him to shame. For once he was a hero, a decorated leader. What once was a marriage, he no longer completes her. A downfall of heroism, his behaviour cut-throat. Where his humbleness let him down, in victory he would gloat. In the County of Lorraine, a cross over his chest. His leaders a Rabbit, he's feeling refreshed. Days of old have come and gone, now he's the one on the throne. Though dangerous information, he hadn't known. He was taken, butchered, laid to waste. A family that proved to be two-faced. Through it all, he showed great might. All hail the Lothranian Knight. War approached, Orenians in great number. His history began to seriously encumber. The hammer struck, disease and thrife. But now it's time for him to arrive. The Lothranian Knight, may return again. Will he fix what he left, the stain.

Hi! Strange request, I know. BUT I am looking for a necromancer/dark arts caster to organize a plot/roleplay to curse my character so I can continue to write/roleplay him the way I originally intended. After talking to one of the story and lore team, I now know that the initial written plan won't work. So the next best thing, I need a necromancer to curse me. I'm happy to go over character details and plot here in PMs, whatever you need. Thanks! Edit: Thanks for the offers of help and friendly chatter! My original vision isn't entirely feasible within the lore of LOTC, which is totally fine. So I'm gonna talk to some peeps and see what we can do and see where it goes.

Hyphae You find a journal locked by a green ribbon. It's edges are worn, yet it is still firmly kept together. A crow and a rose are engraved onto its dark leathery face. Entry I My dear mother. Once a respected druid, now a sickly woman on her death bed. All because I ignored the underlying stress she bared. It had all started when I ventured off into the woods again like any normal day. I had failed once again to heed the worry of my mother, who had now fallen ill to an incurable disease. Not even all the doctors of our Seed - nor herself - could cure the wretched fevers, coughs, ill pale skin, or freckling chills that felt like needles to the back that she felt every time she woke up. How could I, her only son, be so ignorant. Now she lies there every day, as if waiting for her last breath. Now my graceful father works harder until he could work no longer. Now I sit here writing, as if writing my woes could ever cure my mother. That is until I prayed to the gods. Cerridwen and Cennunos, Mother and Father of the nature that is gifted to us. Even after every moon and sun did I wait and prayed for an answer. Patience grows thin, and and so did my inpatient mind thinned until it could no more. I have packed my bags up for a journey far away, into the deeper areas of Almaris. There, I can find some sort of cure, or at least hope to help my family. Entry II In my extensive knowledge I have gain from travelling around Almaris, I would have not known I would gain a sister, or well adopt one. As I was looking for some sort of person with a medical background, I had met the young prodigy Delilah coincidentally along the way to Vortice. She had kindly greeted me and swooned me over with her childish nature. How dearly I love her. As we grew closer the following month together, she was immediately under my wing. Through her, I had learned more about the people in the East, and even settled down at Elysium to understand the herbs around there. From Bat's bulb to Jailer's Moss, I studied hard to get to her level. I wished for my parents to meet her. They always ways wanted a daughter. Entry III The peaceful life of Elysium had taken a turn for the worse. Krugmar, the warring nation up the road from Elysium. War has stepped into our lives as they threaten us with raids and kidnapping our people. Delilah resides in Fenn for her studies; where it is safer. On the other hand, I have decided to stand my ground and stay at Elysium, in hopes that our kingdom is strong enough to keep the Orcs at bay. I watch over the walls, always anticipating death at our gates. Entry IV Uruks. Crude in nature and powerful in battle. They had somehow gotten into Elysium while I was away gathering more herbs. They side with Krugmar. What crazy racists they show to be. I used the citizen tunnels to quietly get in, spying on them as they lurk the streets of our home. Seven in total I have seen. How could a handful of them get in when we had guards on every post? I have heard their prideful yells of how we are cowards, how the guards ran away, and how they would not let anyone in; mostly because they did not have the key. They vilely spill alcohol down their throats, celebrating their success. I hope this ungodly hour ends before Delilah returns home. (Entries will be added continuously in the later future)

A small group of like minded individuals who gathered for the purpose of using their talents to help refine the art of hunting. Whether it be through master craft gadgetry , finding the most effective way to hunt a target, up to the advancement of fields such as alchemy for the sole purpose of improving their efficiency on the field. Little is known about the lounge’s history, its members more inclined to be left to their own devices , unbothered unless needed by the lounge. What was once a ragtag group of hot blooded youths eventually settled into an organized information network. Aside from sharing knowledge, the members of the lounge are fond of collecting and trading rare items and trophies from their previous hunts. Although the location of their headquarters is only known to the members themselves, smaller branches of the lounge have popped up over the years, most recent being the Ando Alur branch, led by one of the lounge’s members. The easiest way to identify a member of the lounge is a large gold coin with an Adfectio Stone imbedded at its center. The lounge's symbol surrounding it. What makes up the bulk of its roster, the book keepers are more inclined towards the back end work. Whether it be the creation of gadgets, potions , and the like or the encoding of the information gathered in a hunt. Although most bookkeepers prefer to stay away from the conflict , there are the outliers which prefer to be on the field themselves, side by side with the hunters to collect information first hand. Oftentimes, these more adventurous book keepers are those possessing a connection to the void or other sources of power, being able to stay at the backline while still able to help their comrades at the front. Below is the current list of lore named under the Hunters Lounge: [The Hunters Alchemy] OOC purpose: The group's main focus is lore writing, exploration, and Hunting RP. Occasionally joining event lines when given the opportunity. Joining / Rules: Invite only.

Beneath the Bark - An Anthropological Study of Wood Elves ____ By Krenanteon Stolt’aroloth ____ Forward “To study the world is the joy of living.” Those are the words of yours truly, the renowned writer and intellectual Krenanteon Stolt’aroloth. While the pursuit of knowledge, both deep and near, is my goal within this strange mortal coil, there is one topic which has always fascinated me beyond all. Since my days as a small icicle, the nature of the primitive wood elf filled my cranium with bountiful curiosity. Thus, five years ago I decided to finally study these puzzling creatures in a depth that previously lay undiscovered by outsiders of their culture. Living among the wood elves and deeply immersing myself within their habitat, I observed them closely. What follows are my findings. Physiology The wood elf is a “creature” whose name is apt. Born from seed, these nymphs of the forest bloom under the supple teat of the sun, relying on the blue milk of the earth to blossom away from the muck in which they were implanted. This development process of the Mali’ame, however, like that of most primitive beings, is a slow one. It begins with the growth of seed within a male ‘ame’s hair. Each spring, there is a chance of such phenomena occurring. However, being (debatably) of the mali taxonomy, and so cursed with infertility, this phenomena is one that is exceedingly rare. If, by slim chance, a wood elf of the male variety does find an earthy kernel within his plumage, he treats it with care until reaching a ripened white state. This is a crucial stage that often ends in catastrophe, given the reckless demeanor of the male wood elf. Although, once in a green moon, the seed is not treated haphazardly and is able to ripen. When this occurs, the male plucks the pearl from its brown, keratinous branch and begins his search for a suitable “mate”. If a female is willing, she takes the seed and places it in her belly button. The seed then sits in this cavern for a number of days, given a regular watering from its new host until it finally germinates. Once the initial sprouting has started, the seed is fished out of the belly button and is brought to a suitable place in the soil. Typically, wood elven parents elect to plant their seed within their home garden. It is here that the final, and longest, stage of their development occurs. Growing in the dirt, the mother and father care for the seedling, giving it ample water and sunlight. Through such gentle nurture, they sprout what the layman would define as elven features. After many months, pointy ears, pointy faces, and all manner of limbs bud from their spriggy stem, coming to resemble the typical wood elven form that we all know. But what lies within this elvenoid exterior that we claim to know? While many a critter of the realm gain their vitality through the thick red ichor most commonly referred to as “blood,” the same cannot be said of our woodland “kin.” Like all trees born of seed and dirt, the wood elf is composed of wood. This, however, does not mean that he or she is less vulnerable. They too contain bits on the inside that need to stay on the inside. Planty fibers drive their movements and organs of cellulose maintain a natural order within their husk. However, none of these internals can function without the life-giving sap that runs through their bodies. This sweet, viscous syrup pools through the spongy mesophyll, pumping in and out of their vital sacs, making the bodies function (application of this syrup upon breakfast cakes is at the reader's own discretion). As it must fill all areas of their form, the sap flows close to the surface of the wood elf, allowing them to be easily tapped. Much like blood, loss of this syrup proves catastrophic to the wood elf, leading to a quick death. Thus, the vitality of the wood elf is balanced on the edge of a knife by this arguably delectable fluid. Behavior Being a creature of wood and bark, the Mali’ame is highly susceptible to most types of damage. Sharp and pointy objects like swords and axes cleave easily through their oaken flesh. This is commonly demonstrated by the lumbermen of the forest. Moreover, if not properly hydrated, the wood elf is highly flammable, able to combust in seconds when in the close presence of fire (See appendices for data). For these reasons, the wood elf has a deep and innate sense of cowardice which compels him or her to nearly always run away from a fight. However, this is not always possible. At times, a woodland sprite may have no choice, and in deep internal conflict with its own nature, it must engage in battle. Given that loss of bodily fluids is a concern, it is starkly important that animals have the ability to defend themselves. The elves of the trees, however, are composed of dense, woody fibers that are stiff and difficult to move. Thus, they are neither agile nor quick on their feet, holding a significant disadvantage on the battlefield as a result. While this dense limb composition may allow them to lift a weapon with relative ease, the stiffness of their woody tissue does not allow them to move the blade effectively. For this reason, a wood elf will never engage in a duel with another race of mali, choosing only to fight in great numbers to make up for their significant lack of skill. Similarly, the weak physical makeup of the wood elf has resulted in the development of a constant state of hiding. These wood nymphs lock themselves away in shambling villages barricaded by mountains and trees, keeping their gates under lock and key at all times due to their constant fear of the vastly superior beings of the continent. This cowardly and distrustful behavior, however, has seemingly made them a bigger, and more sporting, target for said beings. Religion and Druidism In terms of religious affairs, the ‘ame people worship a grouping of fictitious and blasphemous “gods” known as the Aspects. In the name of these false idols, they carve large wooden statues and conduct strange rites atop tall hills. Strangely, despite the wood elves’ innate weakness to flame, part of these rites involves the construction of large pyres in which to dance around in a primal fashion. In groups, they skip and bound in circles round the fire, chanting strange phrases. While in Elvenesse, I witnessed several ‘ame perish to these fires amidst their dance rituals, and it remains unclear as to whether this is an intentional (albeit in vain given the falsities of their “gods”) sacrifice, or whether they simply jigged too near to the flames. A foolish move for a foolish people. The worship of these so-called gods holds close ties to a heathen magical practice known most commonly as “Druidism.” These druids adopt the primal rites of the Aspects in the use of heretical ceremonies as a means of conjuring magics, hexes, jinxes, obeahs, voodoos, hoodoos, snoodoos, and the like. Given the falsity of their deities, the enchantments of such wiccans are likely little more than parlour tricks. However, the intent of any magical rite or incantation is a foul thing that breeds foul things. Thus, caution should be warranted around those that practice such depravities. Language While today it is true that these “elves” speak the same tongue as their “fellow” mali, through careful and stunningly accurate observation, it became inescapably evident that there is more. Before adopting the dialect of higher beings, the Mali’ame developed a form of speaking that was entirely their own. After months of deep immersion into their twiggen culture, I began to see flickers and glimpses of this communication, which can only be described here as primitive, insulting, and a bit rhombus. Hiding from the cover of the scratchy underbrush, I was fortunate enough to witness an “interaction” between two “elves” of the woodland complexion, the like of which I doubt has been seen by a more advanced creature for thousands of years. What I witnessed appeared to be an exchange of odd, guttural grunts that were highly offensive to the ear. It was not for many moments until it became apparent that these grunts actually held some form of “meaning” behind them. Not only that, but the language seemed to stem beyond mere throated yarps, and in fact, included motions of the hands and feet. Strange combinations of tapping, kicking, and crossing of limbs seemed to coincide with brash facial emotions, in tide with specific grunts and gurgles from deep within their woodpipes. An oral/visual language form! I have taken to calling it “barking.” What follows are interpretative meanings of the observed expressions: Hello: “Hgurgh!” + wave Goodbye: “Ggurgh!” + wave Yes: “Ygurgh!” + nodding + clapping hands No: “Ngurgh!” + shaking head violently + stomping + optional slapping of peer Tree: “Tgurgh!” + wide eyes + waving of both hands up + widened stance Leaf: “Lgurgh!” + wiggly fingers tapping forearm Fruit: “Fgurgh!” + Salivation + Enclosed fists clanking together Banana: “Bgurgh!” + look of excitement + wide eyes + pounding chest Appendix I. Wood Elven “Tapping” - Tree taps were inserted into the bark of 5 wood elven subjects - Only half inch tap was required to gain adequate sap flow - Average of 10 minutes to drain all sap - Average of 11 pints measured II. Wood Elven Flammability Tests: Quality Control: (All torches were of the same heat and placed to the same region of the wood elf’s body) Wood Elf Time to Ignition Tree log Time to Ignition Subject 1 6 seconds Log 1 4 seconds Subject 2 5 seconds Log 2 5 seconds Subject 3 2 seconds Log 3 3 seconds Subject 4 5 seconds Log 4 6 seconds Subject 5 3 seconds Log 5 5 seconds III. Wood Elven Growth Rate & Protocol Quality Control: (All seedlings were harvested from the branches of the same ‘ame) 1) Harvest seedling from male ‘ame hair branch 2) Implant into female ‘ame belly button - Check for germination progression each day and water regularly - Average Germination Time: 2-3 days 3) Remove from belly button and plant in warm, moist soil (long term) - First sprouting after 2 weeks - Should see healthy growth for many months - First sign of ears: inconclusive IV. Stolt’aroloth Breakfast Cake Recipe Ingredients - 2 Greet eggs - ¼ cup of caribou milk - ½ cup water (melted from Fennic ice) - 1 cup flour (finely sifted) - 3 Tbsp melted butter (pasteurized from caribou milk) - Dash of vanilla extract - Sprinkle of zested cactus hide Directions 1. Mix all ingredients into a large bowl. 2. Per cake, pour 1 cup mixture into an omelette pan. 3. Let each cake cook for 1 minute. 4. Serve. 5. Application of freshly tapped syrup recommended.

A Missive to Scholars & Writers The Great Crest of the Northern Geographical Society Est. 1762 ✵ The NGS is Now Hiring! ✵ The Northern Geographical Society has found itself in need of writers for a multitude of our exhibit displays. While we take great pride in publishing most of our works internally, there are a number of studies which we have still yet to finish. Aas our organization continues to expand and grow, we have found there to be a need to produce more studies on a variety of different subjects to fill our museums and supplement the work of our own scholars and writers. Thus, we have elected to pay such individuals 50 MINAS PER STUDY from a select list that is submitted to and approved by our Chief of Research, Tanith Vursur, or to Director Elizabeth Brae-Wittenbach. The subject matters in question include the following: Cultural Studies: Urguan - An in-depth analysis of the Dwarven culture and way of life to supplement our existing displays on the Dwed people. [AVAILABLE] Haelun’or - An in-depth analysis of the High Elven culture and way of life to supplement our existing displays on the mali’aheral. [AVAILABLE] The Kharajyr - An in-depth analysis of the Kharajyr culture and way of life. [AVAILABLE] Crowns of Haense - An in-depth study into the Crowns of Haense. The Biharist Crown, Andrian Crown, and the Boyar Cap especially require examination. [AVAILABLE Geographical & Miscellaneous Studies: Ancient Coins - A thorough study on the history of currency in Almaris, namely of the mina in ancient times and those currencies used by various countries throughout the ages. [AVAILABLE] The Athera Expedition - A written, in-depth description of the explorations of Athera by both the Kingdom of Haense and the Holy Orenian Empire. [AVAILABLE] Lands of Haense - An in-depth study into the lands of Haense including Karosgrad, the surrounding countryside, and the kingdom’s Crownlands. [AVAILABLE] ALL STUDIES MUST BE PRESENTED IN AN UNBIASED, WELL ARTICULATED MANNER. Incoherent or biased academic works that do not meet the high standards of the Northern Geographical Society will not be afforded compensation. All books must be at least 15 pages long, but may be greater in length to suit the subject matter or material. If interested in authoring some of these works, please send a bird for more information to Tanith Vursur @Urahra or Elizabeth Brae-Wittenbach @AndrewTech. Thank you for reading this missive!

The Maehr’evar Order The Guardians of Knowledge Overview The long lives of the Elves tend to draw them to scholarly pursuits, either to fill a want for adventure, so they may improve their own knowledge and wisdom, or so they can protect knowledge and the world for future generations. The Maehr’evar seeks to be a place for the Elves who seek to learn, research, write, teach, and explore. Their duties are as varied as they are important. Headquartered in the Great Athenaeum of Elvenesse, this group of scholars and adventurers are always seeking new recruits to improve both the nation of Elvenesse and the world at large. Structure The Maehr’evar are organized in a loose but effective structure, which tends to serve their purposes well. The ranks of the order are as follows: Grandmaster The Grandmaster of the Maehr’evar has the duty of keeping tabs on those below him in the order and allotting resources to different projects. It is he who organizes meetings of members, calls major expeditions, maintains the library and its collection, and who deals with both foreign scholarly guilds and the Council of Elvenesse. The position is currently held by Elros Silma. Masters of the Order Masters of the Order are those who are experienced at their craft and can serve as a bridge between the Grandmaster and the Ordermen. Generally, there is to be a Lorekeeper, who is to coordinate the librarians, writers, and teachers of the order, and the Scoutmaster, who focuses more on expeditions, adventurers, and cartographers. Ordermen The Ordermen of the Maehr’evar is the rank and file position of the guild. They are all considered equal scholars and adventurers of repute. They may lead their own projects, write their own books, and teach their own lessons as they will, and they may help each other on larger projects when needed. Journeymen The Journeymen are those who just joined the Order and seek to become Ordermen. They are to hold an apprenticeship under a current member of the Order, preferably one with similar interests, in order to learn our ways, tenets, and procedures. Once deemed ready to start their own projects by the one whom they are shadowing, they are inducted into the order as full Ordermen. Duties The members of the Maehr’evar can be anything they want within the wider category of scholars, and may determine their own projects. They may freely move between any field they have interest in. However, many projects will tend towards a few areas, broadly categorized as writing, research, teaching, and exploration. Writing An imperative part of preserving knowledge and enhancing culture is to create new works, both artistic and educational in nature. The Maehr’evar will encourage and sponsor works of create and non-fiction writing among the people of Elvenesse, in order to expand our collection and enhance our peoples culture and knowledge. Research In order to learn and to record knowledge, one must seek it out. This may be through visiting other libraries to read or purchase copies of new books, by looking at ruins found by explorers, or by looking into the powers and effects of the less dangerous artifacts within our possession. Teaching It is no use to horde knowledge if you do not pass it on to future generations. Hence, teachers and librarians who organize lessons and help people find the books and knowledge they seek are another important facet of the order. Exploration The final major task of the Maehr’evar is the exploration of the world to find ruins to explore, monsters to fight, and dark cults and covens to exterminate. We seek to map the world, note where places of interest are, and deal with them as necessary, independently or with the help of other, more combat focused groups. The Maehr’evar Code The Ordermen swear to uphold this code upon entry to the guild, the four rules of the Maehr’evar Order. Breaking these rules bring you under the mercy of the Grandmaster, and can warrant anything from a warning to expulsion from the order. I. Unwarranted Harm Or Death Should Be Avoided At All Costs. We’re here to codify the world, not turn it into a pile of ash and bones. II. The Sovereignty Of Nations Shall Be Respected At All Times. While it pains us to allow knowledge to go unrecorded, or worse, for dangerous knowledge to run amuck, it is not our place to supercede any nation. It is best to not become criminals in the eyes of the world. III. Knowledge Should Be Treated With Respect And Care. It is difficult to index burnt books, or to categorize a destroyed relic. Obviously not everything we attempt to collect will survive it’s travel to the guildhall, but try to not willingly break things. Nothing is worse than lost knowledge. IV. Power Merits Respect. Along with the mundane, we may often collect pieces of extraordinary danger. Proper respect should be given to such things, and they should never be trifled with. Understand that pieces that have been deemed ‘restricted’ are not toys we horde for ourselves, but are items we guard the world from. The Great Seals The Maehr’evar Order grades every piece of knowledge in their possession with a seal. The seals are red-wax, and the individual stamps are in the possession of the Grandmaster. Each Seal is stamped with a piece of parchment which gives a brief detail of the object, and any needed information. There are four seals in total: Mundane, Guarded, Prohibited, & B.C. The Mundane Seal is the most common, and identifies this piece as typical knowledge, giving it the lowest rating of danger/power. All pieces which are open for public viewing, such as the books in the public library, are stamped with Mundane Seals. Mundane seals are given the mark ‘M’. An item with a Guarded Seal means that this item is normally only to be handled by Ordermen. These items are considered a bit too dangerous to be shown to the public, but on request may be taken from the reliquary to be studied or used by outside forces. This seal is marked with a ‘III’ symbol. The Prohibited Seal signifies that this item is of immense power or otherwise value, and should never leave the reliquary under any circumstances. These are pieces which are kept away from the world due to high risk of abuse. Even Ordermen are disallowed from viewing these pieces, and need the express permission, as well as chaperoneship of, the Grandmaster. The mark of this charm seal is a bolded ‘X’. Finally, the B.C. Seal is the most important of all the graded seals, and is given independent of the others. This means a piece can have both the B.C. Seal as well as one of three previous seals.. Standing for ‘Black Contingency’, any item with this seal is to be destroyed if at risk of falling into outside hands. Obviously, only items which are deemed as near cataclysmic are ever given this charm seal. The B.C. Seal is the only time any piece of Knowledge is marked for destruction, and holds a rather powerful and somber place in the Order’s culture. It’s mark is a ‘Skull’ symbol. How to Join In order to join the Maehr’evar, a candidate should seek out the Grandmaster in person or start a correspondence via bird. The Grandmaster will then set up a short interview with potential candidates to gauge their interests and disposition so he can match them with an Orderman to study under. Once deemed ready, the Grandmaster will give the Journeyman the Oath, at which point they will become a full Ordermen of the Maehr’evar. As a note, those seeking to join must be citizens of Elvenesse, or at least able to enter the city. OOC Notes

*+𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑎, 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒. 𝑇𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝘩𝑒𝑟. 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑎𝑑, 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟+* [𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝟸𝟹𝑟𝑑] "𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑠𝑒, 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝐼 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦 , 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒. 𝑇𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝐼 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑉𝑎𝑒𝑙𝑦𝑎. 𝑀𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝘩𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝘩𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑛𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟. 𝑇𝘩𝑒𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑢𝑝𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘩𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛, 𝑠𝑜 𝐼'𝑚 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔."