• 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.

A Loss Of Innocence

It was a rainy day, gray clouds covered the sky, shutting the sun's rays out. The autumn air was chilly, and the wet rain dripped down the young Avanthar's forehead, mixing up with the dirt and blood on his clothes, to make a brown-red goo. The Boy was crawling along the dirt, his knees and elbows sunk shallowly into the mud, and his once clean and impressive uniform, was dirty, and torn. The screams and bodies grew louder, so loud that they filled the ears and mind, pushing out any thought and reason. Fear struck the Avanthar s he crawled, but he kept going, perhaps out of instinct.

With a hand upon his doctors satchell, he crawled forward to the body ahead, a young man, in his late twenties. The Avanthar didn't know the man personally, but he wore the uniform, so that meat he was not hostile.


"I-It… Oh fuck… It hurts." The boy muttered between clenched teeth, gripping his hands around the arrow lodged in his gut. The Avanthar reached a hand forward, slowly stroking the man's cheek to calm him. The other hand wrapped around the base of the arrow, swiftly ripping it out of the soldier.


"O-Oh, M-Mommy! I don't want to-"


"Shh, It's… Fine." The Avanthar said, but he knew. Oh, he knew, that was a lie. The would was too deep, and the blood flowed too much. As he wrapped the bandages around the wound, he noticed just how horrid it was.
The arrowhead had scrambled the soldier's innards up, and pieces of metal and wood from the bone had scattered within the wound. The soldier was pale, too pale.


"I… I don't feel well, It's… Hazy." The Soldier muttered weakly. The Avanthar slid a hand behind the dying man's head, gently holding it up.


"It'll be fine, the wound is closed… You just need to rest to heal up fully." His eyes moistened up, as he say there. The roaring and screams around them died out, or, it felt like it. The fighting around them… It felt so irrelevant, as the man desperately clung onto the final moments, in the doctor's arms.


"I'm… Gaelitur… N'Shada Of the 103 B-Batallion" The soldier muttered weakly.


"Saelethil Araven, fifth medical unit." The Medic spoke calmly, despite his desire to run, to scream and crawl into a hole. He was scared, utterly terrified, but he was calm. He owed it to this Gaelitur to be calm, to be his steady rock.


"I… T-Thank you…" Gaelitur muttered softly, before his eyes dropped. He exhaled one last time, before his head dropped back, and his body lay dead in the Medic's arms.


As The Medic lay the man back down in the dirt, he shed a tear. Not because he had lost a friend, no, he didn't know this man. No, he shed a tear because he realised what this meant. Gaelitur's final moments had not been spent with the people he loved. No, it had been in the arms of a stranger, as cld metal dug into his skin, and his blood poured. Even so, the corpse smiled. Gaelitur had not died a scared man, no, he was at peace.


Saelethil gave the corpse a final glance, before slowly crawling off, further into the warzone. Saelethil left something behind with that corpse, his youth, and his innocence.


@Raeris @JoyShake @SlyChung @Eccetra @McLeafies
 
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It was a rainy day, gray clouds covered the sky, shutting the sun's rays out. The autumn air was chilly, and the wet rain dripped down the young Avanthar's forehead, mixing up with the dirt and blood on his clothes, to make a brown-red goo. The Boy was crawling along the dirt, his knees and elbows sunk shallowly into the mud, and his once clean and impressive uniform, was dirty, and torn. The screams and bodies grew louder, so loud that they filled the ears and mind, pushing out any thought and reason. Fear struck the Avanthar s he crawled, but he kept going, perhaps out of instinct.

With a hand upon his doctors satchell, he crawled forward to the body ahead, a young man, in his late twenties. The Avanthar didn't know the man personally, but he wore the uniform, so that meat he was not hostile.


"I-It… Oh fuck… It hurts." The boy muttered between clenched teeth, gripping his hands around the arrow lodged in his gut. The Avanthar reached a hand forward, slowly stroking the man's cheek to calm him. The other hand wrapped around the base of the arrow, swiftly ripping it out of the soldier.


"O-Oh, M-Mommy! I don't want to-"


"Shh, It's… Fine." The Avanthar said, but he knew. Oh, he knew, that was a lie. The would was too deep, and the blood flowed too much. As he wrapped the bandages around the wound, he noticed just how horrid it was.
The arrowhead had scrambled the soldier's innards up, and pieces of metal and wood from the bone had scattered within the wound. The soldier was pale, too pale.


"I… I don't feel well, It's… Hazy." The Soldier muttered weakly. The Avanthar slid a hand behind the dying man's head, gently holding it up.


"It'll be fine, the wound is closed… You just need to rest to heal up fully." His eyes moistened up, as he say there. The roaring and screams around them died out, or, it felt like it. The fighting around them… It felt so irrelevant, as the man desperately clung onto the final moments, in the doctor's arms.


"I'm… Gaelitur… N'Shada Of the 103 B-Batallion" The soldier muttered weakly.


"Saelethil Araven, fifth medical unit." The Medic spoke calmly, despite his desire to run, to scream and crawl into a hole. He was scared, utterly terrified, but he was calm. He owed it to this Gaelitur to be calm, to be his steady rock.


"I… T-Thank you…" Gaelitur muttered softly, before his eyes dropped. He exhaled one last time, before his head dropped back, and his body lay dead in the Medic's arms.


As The Medic lay the man back down in the dirt, he shed a tear. Not because he had lost a friend, no, he didn't know this man. No, he shed a tear because he realised what this meant. Gaelitur's final moments had not been spent with the people he loved. No, it had been in the arms of a stranger, as cld metal dug into his skin, and his blood poured. Even so, the corpse smiled. Gaelitur had not died a scared man, no, he was at peace.


Saelethil gave the corpse a final glance, before slowly crawling off, further into the warzone. Saelethil left something behind with that corpse, his youth, and his innocence.


@Raeris @JoyShake @SlyChung @Eccetra @McLeafies
 
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