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You get to call yourself a Knight! | 15 ≤ Buildings < 35

  • 100% Villager Conversion Rate

    Since the server is on NORMAL difficulty and the majority of asked members do not wish to change that fact, we should add a datapack (or change the game rules) so that villagers will always convert into a zombie villager when slain by a zombie. Normally, this would only happen if the world difficulty was HARD.

    A villager being converted into a zombified villager would have the benefit that one could cure said villager again and get a drastic discount for their sold goods. (A 20 Emerald Mending book would only cost 1 Emerald after conversion, for example.)

    Link to a Datapack that would change the rate to 100%

    What say you, fellow Cnidarian?

    posted in Legal Discussions
  • 100% Villager Conversion rate

    When a villager is slain by a zombie, it will turn into a zombified villager. This, however, only happens some of the time unless the world difficulty is set to HARD.

    Since the general consensus of the server is that we should stay in NORMAL difficulty, I propose that we used a DATAPACK instead, that changes the villager to zombie villager conversion rate to 100% in Normal mode too. link, since I can't figure out how to attach a zip

    I propose this, since converting a villager to a zombie and then curing them again will drastically improve their pricing for sold goods. (A 20 emerald mending book will cost 1 emerald after conversion for example)

    posted in Unsuccessful Documents
  • RE: Idiy0tes application

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    Hey there! Here's our formal invitation to join the realm of KINTSUGI, the shattered realm.
    We are a pretty new realm, so we are open to plenty of new ideas and influences. Kintsugi is a Japanese inspired realm, where the greed of the ruling dark elves has come with grave consequences. A melting pot of races and magical mutations, anything is possible here! So far we have dark elves, Osyatao (fish people, let me know and I can infodump you any time), orcs, and a good amount of crazy feral monsters. Fun!

    We're just a group of fun people looking to build in an interesting terrain and make great lore as we go. Sounds interesting? Message Parcel or me so we can give you a tour!

    posted in Closed Applications
  • RE: Candarionball Comic Thread

    The Fishpocalypse: Fishy Situation
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    posted in General
  • RE: Candarionball Comic Thread

    Fishpocalypse: The Beginning
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    posted in General
  • RE: The Adventures of Veselin and Mattias (Living Post)

    “Woah- what is wrong with your face???” A deep, new instinct told Veselin that this face leaking was natural and a sign of distress, but it didn’t make it any less disturbing. “I don’t know anything either, I’m just trying to keep you from dying!”

    “Then who knows???” The human fell backwards onto the bed, the wetness steadily flowing down his face. Veselin watched in morbid fascination, before turning away. “You mentioned those… droods?”


    “That’s what I said. Droods. Are they your magicians?”

    The human frowned a little. “They are our magic users, yes.”

    “Why don’t you ask them? Once you’re not bedridden, find out what’s wrong. Then come back and tell me!”

    “Well, you’d need to come too. If I went to the druids and started talking about healing fish people, they’d think I’m insane!”

    Veselin grimaced at the thought of having to go to a town FILLED by these apes. “Nuh uh. No way I’m walking there.”

    posted in Tales from Obrexia
  • RE: The Adventures of Veselin and Mattias (Living Post)

    “Veselin? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

    Veselin stood above the ape creature, the hand holding a small jar of healing balm quivering. He was only trying to keep the thing from dying. “I… I was just doing Grandma’s healing ritual, and then the human started talking... “

    “Maybe you mixed up the steps? It’s the forehead slap first, then the balm on the gills!” Mila, his sister, chimed in, “do humans even have gills?”

    “They don’t! I just put it all over its face- that's not the point! It talked, didn’t any of you hear it?”

    “Hear what?” she approached the bed. “The chattering?”

    “But it wasn’t chattering! It spoke!”

    She laughed. “Well, if you could call that speaking-”

    “Did you not understand it?!”

    His father spoke up. “Calm down, Veselin! You must be hearing things.”

    “I am NOT!” Veselin turned back to the human, who looked terrified. “Say something. Anything.”

    In a hoarse voice, they spoke: “.....something?”

    “There! You see?” He turned to his family, but was met with confused looks. “You didn’t hear that..?”

    The human spoke up. “Where am I? And why are you the only one talking Obrexian?”

    “Talking what?”

    “Obrexian. My language. You’re talking it, while the rest of you are speaking gibberish.”

    Veselin’s barbels bristled. “Our language is NOT gibberish, thank you very much!”

    “Seems like it to me,” the human murmured.

    He turned to face his family again. “Did you catch any of that?”

    Again, blank faces. Mila seemed especially concerned. “It has a… very strong accent?”

    His father stood up from the wicker chair, approaching the bed. He snatched the balm from his son’s hands. “Maybe this is expired…”

    “I’m not crazy!!!” Veselin cried, crossing his arms. “The ape talks!”

    The human gasped. “Who are you calling-”

    They were cut off by the sound of a horn from above ground. The sun was at its peak in the sun; it was lunch time.

    “Ope, time to go!” Mila and Veselin’s father went towards the entrance of their home, changing from their dry indoor clothes to their waterproof clothes to leave into the river. “Are you coming, Veselin?”

    Veselin looked at them, then back towards the human. “...I’ll catch up with you two.”

    They dived into the water and swam up and out onto the surface, leaving Veselin and the human alone.

    posted in Tales from Obrexia
  • A Trip to Baile Beostoic Pt. 1

    I rose early in the morning. Reluctantly, I turned back my covers and reached for the nightstand beside the bed. There sat the candle that I had left for myself last night. I lit it promptly. It draped a soft piece of light over the room. I crawled out of bed, leaving my wife behind, and stepped lightly towards the window. Peeking through the slats of the shutter, there was hardly enough light to see outside. There was still dew hanging off the leaves and an even thicker layer covered the ground. Fog hung low over the calm river. Our house sat no more than a stone’s throw away from it. My boy, Albie, and I usually spent most our spare time on the riverbank, oftentimes staying late into the night. Last night however, in preparation for today we had gone to bed a little bit earlier than usual.

    When I entered his room, Albie was still asleep in his cot cuddled up under a few blankets. He looked very comfy. It was mid fall, so it was cold enough to want another blanket but not quite cold enough to keep the fire all night. I almost hated to wake him. He seemed to be sleeping so well, but he was already so excited for the livestock auction I knew he’d be upset with me if we missed even a minute of it. I nudged him just a little. He slowly came to life with a grunt and a groan, but his frustration was diffused when he remembered our plans for today.

    “Are we still going?!” he said excitedly once he came to himself. It was no surprise these were the first words out of his mouth. This was probably the quickest I’d ever seen him roll out of bed. He could be especially stubborn about getting up if we’d stayed out too late – like father like son I suppose – but today was different. His feet hit the floor at the same time he started rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

    “As long as you’re still up for it.” I replied.

    His arms fell back to his sides: “Are you kidding! Of course, I’m still up for it!” He was almost offended that I’d even suggest that he wouldn’t want to go. He continued “You know I’ve been waiting forever to go.” I had a small chuckle to myself.

    Forever may have been an exaggeration, but he was dead serious. Ever since the spring, he had been waiting to go to the fall auction at Baile Beostoic. It all stemmed from him meeting a man hauling back several calves into town. Albie couldn’t help but notice the cute little things. He tugged on my shirt and looked up at me to see if I noticed them. He asked if he could go see them and I told him it was up to the man hauling them. The man was old and very kind from what I remember of it.

    As Albie approached, the man slowed. Albie asked very politely if he could pet the calves. The man was more than happy and willing to let him. He and Albie spent quite a while talking. The man seemed glad just to have someone to talk to. He took his time and told Albie all about the auction: how it grew bigger every year and of how it was basically turning into a festival. As I stood by, I could see the gleam in Albie’s eyes grow larger. After we were done talking to the man, we headed home, and it wasn’t long until Albie was asking me if we could go.

    I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went but I do remember that I obliged. I told him if he would be patient and keep up with his responsibilities, I would like to take him in the fall. I thought it was a great idea. I can’t think of anything a father loves more than quality time with his son, and the fact that he had suggested it made it all the more sweet.

    He made sure that I kept my promise. He would remind me from time to time and make sure I noticed when he was pitching in some extra help. He has always done a good job of keeping up with his chores. He knows what I expect of him, but he was especially conscientious during this time. I will admit he has done very good for the past several months, so a few days ago I told him I would be taking him to the fall festival. Since then, he’s practically been eaten up with anticipation.

    After we had woken up, we got dressed for the day. I grabbed a bag we had packed the night before. It was nothing special, no more than a little food for the trip and some other odds and ends just in case we happened to need them. We grabbed our coats and stepped out the door. I attached the bag to the saddle of Cherry – she was an old faithful horse that was about 12 years old now. We had gotten her as a yearling about a year after we had Albie. The two had practically grown up together and were basically the same age. We had made it a tradition to celebrate her ‘birthday’ along with the boy’s.

    I hopped on her and then helped Albie up into the saddle. He was just about tall enough to get on her by himself, but it was just a little bit easier this way. I knew in a few years he would take a growth spurt and be able to hop up on her no problem so figured I might as well do it while I still had the chance. The sun was just starting to warm the Earth. It must’ve been around 5 or 6 in the morning. Fog was rising, surrounding us completely now; we headed north, out of Riverwatch.

    We could take our time and still make it there comfortably by 10 or 11 at the latest. We certainly could’ve made it earlier, but I didn’t see any reason to rush. It was Albie’s first time going north and I hadn’t been in many years. I had been to the auction several years back, but Albie was so young at that time I figured it would be best to leave him with his mother at home. That made this an exciting experience for both of us.

    The first half of the trip went pretty slow. Albie leaned forward and rested on my back for most of it. Around halfway through the trip though, the air had warmed up enough for us to shed our coats. Albie spotted a quiet little pond not far off the road, so we stopped to pack our coats into the saddlebags. I reach into the bag I had tied up earlier and pulled out a little bit of grub. We both had a couple apples and we split a loaf of bread with some cheese on top. All together it was a nice breakfast, especially with such peaceful scenery. Cherry got some rest out of it too. I hitched her to a tree by the pond so she could drink at her leisure and we fed her our apple cores as treats when we were done with them.

    After our break we climbed back on Cherry just as before and got back onto the road. This half of the trip went by much faster. Hours passed by quickly. We passed others, some on foot, some on horseback, and some on wagons: it was likely that at least a few of them were heading to the same place we were. Albie and I talked for most of this leg. The majority of it was just questions about what it would be like when we got there. Daydreaming helped pass the time, but I only knew about as much as him; we both theorized on what it would be like.

    Albie seemed most interested by getting to meet the various animal that would be there. He was no stranger to livestock. As he had grown up, he helped me tend to the chickens and pigs we raised. We usually only kept enough around to help feed ourselves, but it was good fun anyways and it helped teach Albie some great lessons on responsibility. Nevertheless, I knew he would enjoy getting to be around them all. Personally, I was most excited to try the different treats the whole town had to offer. Based off of how the old man spoke, there would be likely vendors and perhaps even a few games there too. We were both all too excited.

    “Is that it, Papa?” Albie asked just as we crested a small hill. I knew we would’ve been getting close, so I had told Albie to keep an eye out a while ago. Just the thought of actually seeing the place had him thrilled and it was only intensified when he actually caught a glimpse of it: “That has to be it doesn’t it?”

    “I reckon you’re right; look at all the people.” I said. We inched towards the side of the road just to take it all in for a moment.

    His eyes lit up similar to the first time he learned about the festival. “Yeah, you can see everything from here.”

    He was right. It was a spectacular view. Although it was still rather early, hundreds of people filled the little town to the brim. You could clearly make out the auctioneer’s stage behind the barn. It seemed as though they hadn’t yet started. Animals were queued up in pins with lot numbers ready for the sale. The tiny gravel paths had turned into bustling streets filled with people perusing stalls that had seemingly appeared overnight. People from all walks of life had come together to be here. It seemed some were just browsing, but many others were carrying armloads full of stuff around. There were still some people working out in the field taking up what was likely the second crop of the season and horses working the fields to turn over the soil before the first frost came. Wagons and carts filled the entrance to the city and sat on the sides of the road. Even outside of the town were merchants trading all sorts of goods. Inside people had turned their house fronts into shop fronts and were selling whatever excess they had. A makeshift market had popped up. Tents housed neat toys and trinkets, mostly trivial things; others had sweets, baked goods, or dried meats perhaps. My mouth starting watering just at the idea.

    Without a second thought we approached the town and entered in.

    posted in Tales from Obrexia
  • Still Waters

    “Come on, put your back into it! This rock won’t hollow itself out!”

    The workers grunted in acknowledgement before sinking their pickaxes into the stone. It was a day like any other at the Pond, the safe haven of the Kintsugese Osyatao. It lay in a valley made hundreds of years ago with the Shattering. It became a place to hide from the dark elves, and soon a bustling town. The bustling market place was filled with exotic goods, from various meats to refined metal wares. A large lake sat in the center of the valley; it was occupied by swimming teenagers, playing the day away. A new home was being dug out for a newlywed couple, and it had a long way to go. First, the spot in the mountain had to be carved from the stone and proper support had to be set in place to prevent collapse. The house would be built from the inside out.

    The setting sun cast streaking highlights into the valley. The builders headed to their own homes, chatting and celebrating a job well done. One of them split off from the group; an Osyaba named Jampa. She headed down a flight of stairs dug out from the ground, through a small tunnel, deeper and deeper until it opened up into a spacious grotto. The lanterns hanging from the rocky ceiling cast a warm yellow glow to the rippling water below. Below the surface of the underground lagoon swam hundreds of small Osyatao fry, too young to leave the safety of the pools but old enough to play with each other, chasing one another round and round. Jampa knelt by the shore and carefully stuck the tips of her fingers in the water and wiggled them around. Attracted by the movement, the fry approached her hand but soon left as they realized she was not their mother. Three of them remained, poking their heads out of the water and calling out for her.

    “Hello, my darlings…” she cooed, gently caressing their heads. “Have you behaved today? Didn’t cause your caretakers any trouble?” The fry simply giggled at the sound of her voice; they were too young to talk. “Just a few more days and you’ll be coming home! I know you’ll love it.” She gave them one last pet before getting up. With a wave to the pool caretaker, she headed back up the long corridor.

    The sun had dipped below the horizon, the only light now coming from the windows of the mountain houses. Smoke poured out from the chimneys carved into the cliffs, the smells of various meats filling the air. The lake reflected the scene in its still waters. All was well in the Pond.

    posted in Kintsugi
  • RE: Lore/Build Contest 1: Cultural/Religious Site

    Submission: Temple of Ituin, Goddess of the Stars

    Corresponding lore:

    Location: Kakaisda

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    posted in Lore Prompts & Contests