Foreword: This Lore Story contains mild gay themes and is roughly 14+, containing some affection moments, but nothing too non PG.
It was as if the shutters closed on a dark pantry maid's room and suddenly reopened just as quickly as the tenant forgot to remove the laundry from the line outside her house. Osric was not familiar with dreaming, his nights were simple and over in an instant, to wake as alert as going to bed, and to spare no idle thought, hope or ambition between the closing and the opening. The linens were soft, but the crates underneath hard. The contrast could easily have said something about his life in general, but merely produced cracks this time as it buckled under him while he slowly rose from his lying position...
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Inventory Split Incoming
MassiveCraft will be implementing an inventory split across game modes to improve fairness, balance, and player experience. Each game mode (Roleplay and Survival) will have its own dedicated inventory going forward. To help players prepare, we’ve opened a special storage system to safeguard important items during the transition. For full details, read the announcement here: Game Mode Inventory Split blog post.
Your current inventories, backpacks, and ender chest are in the shared Medieval inventory. When the new Roleplay inventory is created and assigned to the roleplay world(s) you will lose access to your currently stored items.
Important Dates
- April 1: Trunk storage opens.
- May 25: Final day to submit items for storage.
- June 1: Inventories are officially split.
Please make sure to submit any items you wish to preserve in the trunk storage or one of the roleplay worlds before the deadline. After the split, inventories will no longer carry over between game modes.
Player Stories
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- Part II : The Adagio -
Ringing.
What was I saying…?
Ringing, so dull in his ears,
he wasn’t sure if it was even there or if he was just imagining it.
No-- this isn’t mine. Is it? Wait--
I'm sorry...
Who… who were you again?
But it persisted. No matter how hard he cupped his hands against his ears.
Where am I??
It persisted.
I’m sure of it! This-- I don’t. Actually what? I don’t know, I don’t….
Ringing--
Ringing--
R i n g i n g--
Wh-- Why, why is everything--
Do you-- Do you see this?? Am I really going crazy?!
Everything... looks green...
Why does... why does it look green...
And it paired, so magnificently, with the jarring moments of confusion...
- Part I : The Allegro -
The music was so enticing. A call to follow he simply couldn’t refuse.
In the pit of his stomach, he knew his situation.
Sinking, further and further into dread as the herd of listeners left the safety of their day to day busy.
Little did the Cielothar know, dread wouldn’t be the only thing sinking.
No.
It happened so quickly. One by one, he watched people step off the bridge.
Plunge into the pond without so much as a care in the world, thanks to her beautiful music.
He willed himself, prayed internally in frenzy, for his feet to stop.
Not to take the fall.
Yet-- with the fast approaching splash. His feet hit the water.
The true
p A n iC
set in.
With determined struggle, his head was above...
Aronne’s brushstroke moved across the canvas as an extension of his own body, not as a tool, but as an appendage. While he could truly focus his energy into something like this, one of his many outlets, the world seemed to fade into the background, similar to the background of the painting itself. This was a simple enough piece of art, only a standard nature scene, but an important one nonetheless. As he finished the last stroke on the glistening sun’s distorted reflection in the water, he let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and took a step back to examine the work he’d done so far. Almost done, but... something was missing. He took a short break for now, not wanting to risk ruining the still-wet section of the river...
THE DEPARTURE - At the Docks.
Rosalia would be standing at the edge of the dock, clutching a leather suitcase to her leg as her cloak flowed in the icy cold wind. Exhaling a soft breath into her cupped hands she peered off into the horizon of the sea. It was endless, so full of opportunity. She felt exhilarated and somewhat scared with what was about to occur. But there was no doubt in her mind, she was going to do this. She was finally going to be with the man she had longed for, glancing down at her boots she’d tap the toes lightly against each other as she awaited his arrival, hoping he’d come, dying in anticipation.
It was within a few minutes, two figures would make their way briskly through the growing amber of the morning...
“Now remember… this will be the least extravagant holiday you have ever been on.”
Some time had passed since everything. The city was calm and the young Ravenstad couple had found themselves with some time to spare. What better way to spend it with family? Czylle and Erwald spoke idly as they gathered their things. Peasant clothing had been bought for them, and the nobles were swapping out their trinkets for necessities. Even little Bastian found himself in simple garb.. not that the child knew what was happening.
“I mean, unless you count the naval voyages, I haven’t been on any sort of holiday in years. Though I will remember those words to prevent myself from becoming -too- excited.” Erwald replied with a light-hearted tone...
The night had finally fallen, cheer and festivity was in the air as the event goers enjoyed drinks, games, and company. That was all cut short as the patrons heard a deep and mighty roar. “Charge!” a masked man called, towering on top of the nearby hills. The loud patter of marching boots became apparent to each attendee as their eyes flicked about, desperately trying to locate the source of such a terrifying sound. The man rose his polearm in a mighty fist as he lead a group outfitted in ominous and eerie wolf masks. The hounds, armed to the teeth, marched down the hill as the patrons began screaming, alerting each and every attendee of their presence as the majority rushed for the gate leading back into the slums. “My quarrel is with...
When did the battle start? Well... I suppose thats a bit of a trick question.
One could say that it started when half the slum was merrily drinking away at a party hosted by the Telikos Beggars. Their was booze, and games, and more booze. Of course it didn't much last. Soon a large force lead by Edward Jarsdel had gathered at the event and stormed the party.
I didn't get a single sip of that blasted ale.
Half the people climbed up into an old storage room whilst the others stayed on the ground, trying to either run from or fight the hounds. Jochund, leader of the beggers, and self proclaimed king, was captured.
After a while me and the others climbed out from that dingy attic, and the beggars tried to stop them from dragging their...
The day was cold. That was nothing unusual-it had felt cold for some time. She had spent years in Regalia and yet this winter-turned-spring had felt the worst. Harsh, bitter winds brushed past her, causing the blonde to shiver and regret her being outside. She needed the air, though.
Czylle had left her child in the care of her maid, ensuring she had a moments peace. Erwald was likely off at Eleng or, doing something or other. She never truly knew where her husband was most of the time.
But… she was content at that. She did not feel the need to keep tabs on her young son, nor the man she adored. She trusted each were cared for by either family or friends, and such a feeling allowed her to take a moments solace.
Descending the...
The Arrests of the Renegades
“Pick up the pace, garçons! We don't have all day!” The calls of the young Private broke over the steady marching of thirty soldiers that were crossing through the landscape around them, following the steed of their leader. Juliette Miramonte turned her steady gaze on the man riding besides her, Barrulf Blackmyre.
“Something on your mind, Private?” He asked finally after her attention had returned to the path in front of them, tuning out the men behind them.
“Just running through what we have to do again, never had this sort of responsibility before.”
“First time for everything, aye?”
The Private gave a nod and pressed her heels against the horse to sped its pace up as she shouted again, raising her...
“Get up then. Show me that you’re no longer a spineless coward, Vauclain.”
“...”
“Leave her alone. You have no right to speak to my sister that way, you disgusting woman.”
“Leave her be. You have no power here now.”
“So you’re her protectors again? Making up for how you failed?”
“Overthrow the Queen, overthrow the Queen!”
“Would someone please shut that bird up?”
The study grew quiet as the occupants turned to look at the figure slouched at their desk.
The figure’s hair was a mane of unruly curls and had not been touched by a brush or been attended to all day. The outfit they wore was a simple nightgown covered by a thin, but clearly comfortable dressing robe. A soft noise would occasionally escape them, the only true sound...
It was the day, the day both of them were waiting for, to finally be able to call each of them their own. To love and cherish one another, and finally be married.
Maxence was dressed in a fine black suit, a red rose within the breast pocket of the blazer, and a red bow tie. His shoes the finest of leather, shining a stunning obsidian black. Hair brushed back into a more formal style, facial hair also trimmed for the occasion. Glancing into the mirror, looking at his attire, he was overwhelmed as to what was about to take place. He had already gained the blessing, and was about to take such leaps in wedding the woman
Glancing to his Brother who was in somewhat similar attire, minus the red accessory. His brother gave a nod, a...
The wind hit the sail with a loud roar, the rain showering down like a waterfall. The men ran around on the ship like wild chickens, the captain yelling orders as the ship swayed from side to side violently.
“Lower the sails! Balance the shipments in the middle of the deck, don’t let her sink!”
The men yelled and followed each order given, but one man ran up to the captain, pointing towards the Captain’s cabin.
“T’is is all due to tha’ woman! We all kno’ bringin’ women to tha’ sea is bad luck! Tha’ weather was sunny an’ gorgeous durin’ tha’ day, an’ tha’ night brough’ us a migh’y storm!”
With a loud slam, the door to the Captain’s cabin swung open. The blonde woman, wearing the top of a blue dress, a black corset, white pants and...
~Within the Falcons Nest~
Poppy Cuffburt flailed her arms through the air as a gargantuan of a feud suddenly broke out within the Falcon's Nest! Mugs, chairs, dwarves! All were tossed through the air, now dangerous projectiles! What used to be an Emporium with the rule of 'no fighting or combat' had now just become the play ground for a massive bar fight!
Figures wielding unlikely weapons against each other could be seen. Some used chairs, some their bare fists, others the mugs and glasses spread around. It was at this time that Alec Dondario has placed himself between Nyx Richter and Harper Payton, grasping a chair which Harper had swung towards Nyx, catching it mid air!
Seeing this, Harper changed her focus onto Alec, aiming an...
She couldn’t actually remember much of it. The screams she had only heard rarely came from her own mouth. Her body felt like it was engulfed in flames, only interrupted with the cooled patting of a random hand from her side. Her body crashed together like rough waves into a strip of sand. It was the closing of her eyes that brought it to an end.
Now as she leaned back against the chilling headboard of her bed, her arms encircling the warm body of a small essence. Her eyes couldn’t help but never move from the light and precious cargo nestled within her arms. The small physical wriggled with a cry, the North woman having to rock it gently to get it to shush. “Hush now my little owl.” She mused, her hand tucking the blanket back, staring...
Come to me, Come to me wise bird of the solace.
Turn to me, turn to me a blind eye on the sphere.
Drape yourself in the wings of morrow and fly towards the peroration of the lear.
Tell them of the peel of sin that lays beneath the truth.
Fly to me, Oh Fly to me wise bird of the solace.
Turn to me, Oh turn to me a blind eye on the sphere.
Pull into the darkness, the calls that lure the dawn of the dead.
They bring themselves a land of void, to drop those who are numbed.
The poem like lyrics drifted through the drop of darkness one would call night. A the shadow of a drop of poisoned dust twirling fastly towards the edge of the border. It dripped to a stop at the mere edge of a cliff, casting a longing blow of it’s smoke out into the...
The Assault on Colael
The Assault on the Elven City of Colael by the forces of Houses Piergaten, Ravenstad & d'Ortonnaise, under the banner of the Cadar's Wing, Commanded on the field by Lt.Col Benedictus d'Vaud.
Contents
Smoke
Ember
Blaze
Steel
Blood
Smoke rose from the several small campfires which huddled around tents scattered in the vicinity of Fort Tond, rising into small pillars of dark cloud, before being blown away in the easterly wind. Soon, the soldiers that sat around those small campfires and rested within those tents of pink, red & magenta would march with the wind, beneath the blue banner of the Cadar’s Wing. It was early in the month of February 306 AC when these quarrelsome troops had gathered at on the...
-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-
"I think I'm drunk on your love"
The morning was clear, birds would sing a harmonizing song together along the branches of the park trees. Standing before the still, clear waters of the tiny river stood a Qadir, Hunsi Na’im Imad. Held in his arms would be Johanna Sauer.
“Can you please release my neck so I can place you down?” Hunsi would ask as his fuzzy grin formed a smirk, exposing his obvious lie.
“Na’! You’ll drop me in the water!” The Avanthar would reply in a rather tired tone of voice, alas her lips would also form a smirk.
The Qadir offered no further remark, not daring to liberate the witty remarks his brain had crafted for him...
The darkness of closed eyes drove a pang of fear through the young Vigilant’s heart as she held close to the maimed Hightower Commander. The man slumped briefly under her arm and she rattled him gently, murmuring with her fellow guardsman- and cousin- to the injured man between them. Beneath her legs, she could feel the trembling Northerner that had gone from a brave man threatening a god to a fearful child that had dove to hide on the floor in front of her pew.
The ghostly woman not far in front of the Half-Ithanian laughed eerily, her voice singing the gruesome rules of her game, and before long, a lonesome and frightful scream from a man filled the Holy Cathedral. At the shrieking, Juliette leaned slightly against the Hightower...
Screams. Blood. Chaos.
The whole world stopped in an instant for Meredith. What was happening- How, where, and why? She could see her friends, lying on the cold stone floor of the cathedral, bleeding out, dying. She could see the angry, betrayed faces of her Azure comrades, comrades who were horrified with her revelation of her loyalty to The Lady of the Song, to Cora, to the Arken. In fact, she felt their anger, for she had nearly perished in the hands of one such Erwald Ravenstad, Sentinel Supremus. And just hours ago, they had engaged in mere banter, light hearted banter. Now, she stood with her partner in her hands, listening to the Shendar cry her name, crying for help, for relief. She was hurt, quite possibly dying in her arms...
On the 18th of February, a lone ship sailed into the harbour of the Crown City. It was a small sloop with elaborate decorations and ornaments. The latter, despite made of gold, remained stained and murky. The ship's sails were tattered, its hull littered with barnacles and moss. A simple flag flew in the wind from the ship's mast, a pair of fabrics in yellow and black. Though down below at the aft of the ship, a different black-blue-silver banner signified the ship's commission and owner.
The sailors cast their ropes to the pier where the vessel was secured proper. Soon after the captain gave the clear, a pair of women emerged from below the deck. One mother seemingly in her twenties, the other a little girl. The older led the younger...
It had become easy to overlook now what she had in life. Sat upon the swing that hung in her family's estate gardens which allowed her to peer out over to the beach and the ocean, the d’Vaud turned Ravenstad sat in contemplative thought.
She had been in Regalia for years now. There were times where she thought about returning to Anglia, or even to Opper Calem, to hide herself away from whatever it was that bothered her that particular day. But she could not. She had stated that once to her husband, who had replied to her with a look of horror and fright. It had been before they had married, but he had reacted as though he would lose the most important thing in his life if she left, and she could not do that to such a man.
The woman...
Tlaloc was walking in the slums and finally the entrance to the Oasis. When he got there he was met by another Maiar with red warpaint around his eyes like slashes of a sword. The violent Tlaloc lunged for the opposing Maiar. Tallow was met by a heavy blow to the head from a well planned punch by the opposing Maiar. Tlaloc not quite knocked out but was very dazed. The opposing Maiar approached Tlaloclooking at him before going to whisper in his ear.
“The name of your killer is Neptune and if you are who I think you are then I am sorry for having to do the right thing.” Neptune said as he put his hands onto Tlaloc face before twisting to the right snapping it and killing him instantly.
As it turned out it was the Maiar he thought it...
Sitting in a booth, minding their business on a fateful eve sat three people. Two Shendar, Mori and Retrisa, an Ailor, Addie, and a Maraya, Lemoran. They drunk deep on the fine wines and the fine beverages of the Slum Tavern, laughing and cheering before being approached by the finely dressed man...if you could even call him such. He had crooked horns like that of some gnarled tree, skin as black as darkness, and a third eye, constantly jittering around, as if searching for something that might never come. The vilitatei made his greetings to the one he knew first, Lemoran, offering him respite from the cold air and a sip of his warm tea, before extending the offer to the others and revealing his name to them. The former Avanthar’s name...
Introduction
Deep within the slums, an old forsaken pub rested. Its foundation seemed barely kept afoot from the soil around it as the building itself seemed in ruins.
Tonight however, a crowd could be seen lining up from outside. What used to be a dusty old pub with hardly any business now suddenly danced with activity! A famed figure stood swishing his hips left and right as he hopped atop one table, jumping to the next. He leaned with a toothy grin towards those who gathered around.
The Bet
Women fainted at the melodious talent of the figure, while men wished to be the handsome minstrel who played atop the tables. Who was this figure so adapt to bend notes to his will?
Suddenly, the door of the pub slammed open, and in stepped a...
The first day she assaulted and took note.
The second day she memorized and resisted.
The third day she commenced to yield.
The fourth day she degraded herself to fit.
The fifth day she stayed deferential and registered new entries.
The sixth day she struck tacitly back without an utterance.
The seventh day the Leviathan they devised was unrestrained.
<><><><>
The day that she arrived, already broken as is. Her body scared with the claw marks and bites of what seemed to be a feathered creature and a dog. They did not question it. The dark figures that had from the moment they received her chains, left the blemishes of days to come on her physique. She called them the Tormentors of the Pneuma. They placed her in an all too familiar cell...
G l i m m e r
The soft heads of wheat stalks brushed the bare skin of their arms as they walked. A chorus of crickets voiced their displeasure with each crunching step. The eerie glow of the full moon guided the pair onwards, deeper into the sea of dark blue grass. Cutting through the fields was the fastest way to get to town.
“Hurry up, y’slowpoke.”
“Can’t see where th’feck I’m goin’. What if I step on a mouse or somethin’?”
“Sure it wouldn’t mind. C’mon.”
They whispered. Home was far behind them, but they couldn’t risk waking those who slept inside. Vytas had made a habit of slipping out of the house and venturing into the darkness. He did so nearly every night. His brother, however, did not.
“Why’d I even agree t’this?”...
The young woman leaned against the railing of the ship, looking out across the endless blue as they sailed onwards. She breathed in the salt of the sea, her left hand rose to rest on top of her hat and keep it in place atop her head as the ribbon on the sides snapped and whirled against the wind, trying so desperately to escape the woven straw hat on the adventurer’s head. The woman only ignore the frightful streamers of her hat though and pushed herself off the railing to pace across the ship, slowly but surely.
“Land just ahead!” Called the man above in his crow’s nest. It was a line the seafaring Ithanian knew well and she began to race across the deck, her boots slamming against the boards like marching soldiers coming home and...
Her Run
Her Questions
Her Eyes
OOC: Emilia is officially retired as a character.
@Sozzer @miner1011012 @Masterman120
“They say you shall find yourself infatuated with one other person. They call this love. I’m here to tell you such a thing has no one form of this body, one thing cannot be classified as this...love. There is no precious gem in the rough, there is no one star along the sparkle of the light under the million and other objects that circle it. They say love is what one finds themselves jumping off the end of the world for. They say it is when you feel something deep down in the innards of your soul. They say you will do anything for this one individual. Gazing into one of each other eyes as they run their hands along each other jaws and bring their lips into a muzzle against each others. However much they mutter the words “I love you” or...
For a majority of Enzo's life, sleep had been a luxury; this was no longer the case as of late.
It was most nights that Enzo woke up screaming at an undesirable hour.
It was always the same chilling images rushing through, each night.
Bastien.
Because he'd never seen his brother's murder, It made it all the worse;
viewing a makeshift version his mind had conjured to envision as it.
He'd always be running in these helish nightmares, his hand always extended to
tell his brother of the oncoming killer--Always an inch too late.
That's when he'd wake up, as the blood flew back into his face.
As his brother passed on.
This night was no different to that of usual..
<d'I> "BROTHER, BROTHER!" Enzo would jolt awake at these words.
It'd...
The Dressolini girl tossed her curly hair behind her as she walked down the street. The city was bustling as per usual. People were doing their daily errands, smithies pounded out impurities, smells of all sorts of goodies wafted from every street corner. Another beautiful day in Regalia. The girl carried a basket filled to the brim with fresh fruit. She had done her own shopping that day, which was special for a married noblewoman. Her dress danced in the afternoon breeze as she walked towards her destination, one of her husband’s perfume businesses.
After making her way through the winding streets, the girl came to a stop at the door. As she opened it, the most pleasant smells poured out. Any and all assortments of floral odor...
Maxence had always kept a journal at his side, whether he’d draw within it or write his thoughts, it was something to log his words in, it helped him move past the deaths of his parents. With it being a hobby the Nursery Maids gave him to take his mind off grieving.
Returning home after an eventful day with his family and another household, he sat at his desk. A small kindling flame flickering on the nub of a candle by his writings, pulling open the leather bound book he opened it to a fresh page, clicking his knuckles briefly before dipping his quill into the inkwell.
“ Journal,
You wouldn’t think I’d be writing to you explaining how much of a happy man I am. After all the death and trauma a sole person can go through, I never...
"And in the darkness I found my past, my precious memories all in the pages of my journal." - Tobie Peirgarten, 306AC.
Tobie sat in the attic of the Peirgarten Estate in Lorhauser, staring at the pages of an old, tattered leather book with somewhat of a grin on his face. His eyes were set upon the pages with something of a soft shimmer within his gaze.
As Tobie flipped through the pages of the journal afront him, he overlooked drawings of himself and his cousins. Reading passages written by none other but himself, many of them detailing his days spent within the city of Lorhauser. One article in particular, a more recent entry stood out and read as such.
"Everyone still looks at me as though I am some sort of creature, the...
The Slum Demon by Anonymous
Cloaked in darkness, the Slum Demon was,
His dark curses make room for buzz,
No doubt in all minds, he was a threat,
For the Slum Demon was the cause for wreck.
His words were hissed,
Like a viper kissed,
Sinful statements fallen from his lips.
Tales be told of his twisted tricks,
The spells that bent from his sharp nails with only a flick;
The man of Void, he angered a king.
A king of law, a king of guard;
The Slum Demon found himself wanted, but he didn't run.
A Villain, as all know, does nothing but walk;
For if you hold all Void in your hands,
What do you have to fear in any lands?
But all was wrong, for even the Demon was still mortal,
The King of Law brought down his word, all spell fell feeble...
“For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.” - Khalil Gibran
Myra’s shoe got stuck in a hole in the cobble street during her run. She gave not a sound of panic however, for she was far too engaged in the chase, and freed herself with a swift tug of her leg. She hurried after her younger, lighter-haired cousin, Eileen, who babbled and screamed out of excitement from their game. Their laughter intermingled and echoed down the pathways they traveled along, occasionally darting around slow-moving neighbors or strangers.
“No!” Eileen exclaimed amidst a laugh. She looked over her shoulder to a swiftly advancing Myra, who then lunged out to grasp at Eileen’s shoulder.
“You’re it!” Myra said. Eileen started to...
A wisp of music could be heard from the Emporium. Normally this would be the cause of two bards who attended the Emporium on a regular basis. The names of the two bards would be Benjamin Journey and Elias Loveridge. Today however, only Benjamin would be seen, panning up towards the Arken Cora.
"Benjamin. Cheer them up, will you? With a dancing tune." Called the Arken.
All of a sudden, the bards finger tips fell at mercy of the lute, a quick pace of instrumental playing. The notes seemed to speak, expressing sadness, speaking in a world far away. The notes lashed out heavy and harsh, brassy and loud but continually rhythmic with awesome fragmentation and melodic liquidation.
The bards fingertips continued to graze the lute’s strings...