Group Details

Viscount

May found Co-Build NPC realms | 55 ≤ Buildings < 120

  • RE: 1.18 Partial Map Reset

    alt text

    I'd like the island in blue to be excluded from the reset and if possible the area in red to be reset (if telvorus doesn't have any issues - havent had a chance to talk to anyone)

    any issues or replies please ping me on discord, i will see it faster

    thanks

    posted in Announcements/Maintenance
  • RE: Pink’s application

    Here's another vote 4/5 :F

    posted in New Applications
  • RE: Pink’s application

    I will give you a vote as well, 3/5!

    posted in New Applications
  • RE: Infrastructure Ministry Candidacy (Jan to April 2022)

    I would like to nominate myself for candidacy. I am more than happy to answer questions here or in discord about why I think I'm qualified (as I have never served as a deputy) and what I could bring to the position.

    posted in Infrastructure Election Archives
  • Adam's Family Part 1 Index Post posted in Aiolia
  • Building Bridges

    Deirbhile twisted her head about, gazing at the vast and towering peaks and crags with wide and eager eyes. The landscape laid out before her was enchanting in its magnitude. Her mother, Deirbhile’s eyes shining brighter at the thought, walked in front of her, leading her by the hand along the semi-treacherous, worn trail between her father’s shed and the osyatao village. Mother spoke quickly, telling her all about the village and the joys that lay within. Overwhelmed by everything that had demanded her senses since her awakening, Deirbhile could only nod and smile while watching the scenery, the fallen stone giant catching her eye. Even amidst the rest of the magnificent landscape, it commanded her attention.

    Her father walked behind them, holding her brother on his shoulder. He smiled as she looked back at him with wide and another wave of happiness washed over Deirbhile. The belonging and love and beauty and words and stories and joy left her in a state of bliss.

    Adam, seeing her gaze return to the massive chiseled figure, answered her unasked question.

    “That is a Colossus. There are stories from long ago that speak of the ground trembling as they walked, and when they fell they created this mountain range.” A shadow flickered in her father’s eye as he recalled those memories. “I don’t know much more than that,” he stated with an apologetic smile.

    The newborn golem nodded and turned her wondrous gaze back to the sheer cliffs and dramatic crags.

    When they arrived, the denizens of the village welcomed her warmly, as they had Adam. As before, the village gathered before the ledge where Fionn began to speak.

    Still dazed by her sensory overload, Deirbhile only conveyed the summary of the announcement to Father. In the ritual of Deirbhile’s awakening, her mother had helped and as such she was to be treated as her daughter. Father’s smile at that made her eyes shine all the brighter.


    The village applauded, overcoming their shock relatively quickly. With Adam’s introduction just several days before, they were more than happy to welcome another gentle giant into their midst, especially with their toisiche personally vouching for and claiming this one as her daughter. Some lingering at the back of the crowd did not feel the same. The talamh namh seemed different than the ones of the sea raiders, but their kind words could very well be a new trap, one to lure them to the bowels of the ships as new slaves. Mothers held back their fry as the others raced to greet the new nàmh before leading their families away, unnoticed by the excited crowd.


    The days and weeks that followed were some of the best in any of the golems’ lives. Radish excitedly played with the village fry, showing off his new toys eagerly even as his father made the young ones toys of their own. Deirbhile sat at her mother’s side, eagerly taking in the stories and traditions often passed from mother to fry in Northern Osyatao culture. On some nights, Deribhile would tell the tales to Radish and Adam, sending her little brother into fits of giggles and her father into wide smiles. She even managed to teach Adam some of the osyatao tongue.

    The village grew used to the new fixtures in their lives, waving to Radish as he would run past with the other children, several layers of woolen hats capped by a bronze helm layered over his fragile gourd to keep him safe, gifted by the village smith and a few adoring weavers. His constant joy and willingness to share his toys and play with others warmed him to many cautious parents. Even the village’s wolf-dogs seemed to take a liking to the small ha’adam.

    Adam, through charades, help from Niall (the translator from their first interaction) and Deirbhile, and his growing understanding of their language would aid them with the more menial tasks around the village. Building materials, construction, and planting and caring of crops was made many times easier by his presence, even hampered by Adam’s missing arm.

    Their toisiche led her daughter about the cabins, introducing Deirbhile to various families and their roles in the community. Her interest in them and their lives drew the villagers to the curious and personable Deirbhile. Even the most reluctant warmed to the good-hearted and gracious ha’adam. Some kept their reservations, but for the most part they found their new residents were a boon to the Glens clan.


    Adam, for his part, felt at last at rest. His aches and pains had subsided greatly since he had last seen the wolf with the violet eyes, and through the vigilance of Eònan the head of the armainn no wolf was allowed within sight of the walls. The warrior may not have known the cause of Adam’s unease, but as a dear friend of the toisiche and a member of his village Eònan would protect him with the rest under his purview.

    With his knowledge of the tongue growing, their child, and living in a recently constructed shack by her cabin, Adam’s at first distant relationship with Fionnaghal was growing into a steady friendship. As the weeks and months rolled on, they came to talk of Adam’s journey south and some of the details of Lipari, but he always redirected when the topic came to his time with Eternal. Eventually, as the first leaves began to yellow and fall from the few deciduous trees, when the village had become accustomed to and comfortable with his presence and help, Fionn introduced him to the chloinne ceabain.


    As with the other known schools of osyatao, the Northern lay two to four eggs in pools, where after seven months the eggs hatch into fry. After two months, the fry are strong enough to breath air and are able to be removed from the water. With the harshness of the environment, the Northern Osyatao must keep their egg pools indoors in huts they call the “chloinne ceabain” or the “children’s cabin.”

    The Glens clan did not differ from other Northern Osyatao in this. The building was large and one of the few with thick stone walls, insulated with mud and clay not unlike that which made up the ha’adam. It was long and divided into two rooms. The first held a long rectangular tub full of clear water with an unlit fireplace at the end of the room. Two of the smallest fry Adam had seen swam within it, their eyes wide and curious as they popped them above the surface. An osyaba attendant gazed at Adam warmly, greeting him and Fionnaghal.

    “Here is where our fry wait to join us in the air,” the osyaba gestured to the two in the pool, who had lost interest and begun to chase each other in laps. “They cannot breathe as we do, and must be looked after once they’ve hatched.”

    Adam’s breath hitched at the sight of the fry and the words spoken to him, though it took him a moment to understand some. Even if he hadn’t understood one word, he could tell something delicate and precious had been trusted to him. He looked in askance at Fionn. She merely grinned, showing her wide sharp teeth. Fionn moved past the tub, heading for a door set in similarly thick walls to the outside. Adam glanced back to the osyaba, who shared a similar smile at his wonderment. She gestured to follow the toisiche, and so Adam did.

    The second room contained a large round pool with a large wooden blade the diameter of the container that was slowly spun via a crankshaft attached to the side. Three osyatao eggs roughly the size of a grapefruit mildly tumbled in the lethargic current generated by the osyat turning the crankshaft. He gave a respectful nod to Adam as the golem crouched through the door. A fireplace sat at the end of the room, coals gently glowing a low heat to keep the room warm. Fionnaghal was waiting nearby.

    “This is our greatest treasure,” she spoke in a hushed, almost reverent tone, “These eggs are our future, and show the love and strength of our village.”

    Adam’s eye glowed with wonder as he gazed at the delicate orbs in the water. Speechless, he tore his gaze from the sight back to Fionn.

    She approached and grasped his hand. “With the falling of the leaves, winter is soon on its way. While we can change the water in the pools and keep the spring unfrozen to provide clean replacement and harvest the wood to keep the fires burning, it is not easy. Especially since last season…” She trailed off as a shadow passed over her face. Shaking herself free of dark memories she inhaled deeply. “Would you, and when she’s ready, Deirbhile, help us? You’ve mentioned how the cold did not bite you on your journey here and we are not near so fortunate-”

    “Yes,” he rumbled. “Yes of course.” He couldn’t understand all of the words the toisiche had said, but more than enough meaning had carried through. They needed help caring for their children, as had he. He was more than willing to return the favor.

    Pent up worry released from Fionn all at once. “Thank you Adam. This means the world to us.”

    His lone eye shone, “Thank you for showing me.”


    Adam made trips to and from the spring each day, using the basin he had brought to quickly fill the barrels given to him. Occasionally he would venture into the nearby forest and collect as much fallen timber as would fit in his grip and on a sled. The weight was no issue and the task was done quickly, far more quickly than the village usually managed. Their time was instead spent on hunting and smoking meat for the surely harsh winter to come, as venturing beyond the palisade into the grips of the monster was no one's desire. As the crops approached harvest, Adam was often pulled away to the fields. As such, Deirbhile was brought into the fold and learned the everyday duties from Adam, her wonder just as strong as his had been. Once the harvesting was finished, they would trade-off, sometimes going together to fulfill the duties. Their love and devotion to the most vulnerable in the village cemented the trust many of the osyatao had placed in them.

    With the first frost came the introduction of a new responsibility. The edges of the spring’s basin froze over, and would surely freeze thicker further into the season. Their job was to keep the source of water clear of ice, as to ensure that the village would not have to seek out another. The osyatao usually on duty had to be careful of slashing themselves with the frigid water, but no such concern bothered Adam or Deirbhile. The worst it did was make their outer skin brittle, and when it crumbled it was easy enough to replace. Frostbite held no meaning to them.

    Still, the days were hot enough to melt the snow that fell in the night, winter had not yet come. With the large harvest, abundance of smoked meat, massive woodpile, and assured water source, the Glens clan had but one fear for the winter. And so, while Radish was out playing with the fry of the village, Fionnaghal sat the two ha’adam down to tell them of the monster that plagued them the season prior.

    posted in Aiolia
  • RE: New member application - Goldfishtoast - 12/15/2021

    that is one sussy build 3/5

    posted in New Applications
  • RE: Member application: madgermandoger

    You can have my vote too, 2/5

    posted in Member Applications
  • Euphoria, Part 3

    A single lantern hung from a bronze chain, a suffocated, muted little mote of light that illuminated the otherwise pitch-black of the meditation chamber. In the center of the room, the lantern between and above them, knelt two women in deep, ponderous consideration.

    Sanna, her robes stripped of their gold and bronze liveries, knelt herself, patiently at the dark periphery of the room beside the small oaken door which led to the rest of the monastery. Chiima would be on the other side of the door, she knew, minding passers-by into silence. Sanna kept her breathing even and quiet. She knew firsthand that almost anything could distract a Never-Night from recalling their visions, especially someone so sensitive as the two in the center of the chamber before her.

    Five girls had fallen. Only two had flown.

    Adani and another of her cohort, Chara, sat with eyes closed, facing one another. Both girls were trying to meditate, but neither could shake the feeling of adrenaline, of dread, of hot hands and maddening whispers, from their minds. At least, not at first. The gentle hiss of the lantern, the rhythmic flickering of its candle, and the synchronized breathing of each girl helped the other calm down into a meditative trance–a small, if bland, meal beforehand certainly didn’t hurt, as Sanna advised.

    Sanna smiled as Adani’s eyebrows relaxed from their fixated poise, and Chara’s form straightened in relaxation.

    Almost immediately, the visions started up again.

    Sanna knew what the girls would not– their recollections would be polluted with one another’s memories. The first dive is the purest one–no false images would arise here–all of it prophecy. But which memories belonged to whom?

    The lantern flickered in a nonexistent wind, hissing, enthralling.

    Sanna’s own mind began to race, the recollection of the two pupils strong enough to wash her mind and prepare it for mnemonic bleed simply by proximity. Sanna revitalized her focus, as the girls began to breathe faster.

    Adani’s eyebrows were scrunched again. No matter. It’s out of Sanna’s hands. Sweat beaded down Chara’s brow, her heavy black-blue robes and the mental exertion of recollection combining in an effort which seemed almost physical.

    Adani began to lose control of her breath. Chara noticed too late, and barely managed to keep their meditation synchronized, before the lantern flickered and died.

    “It is done,” Sanna said, barely finding the authority to put behind her voice in time to speak the words. Seeing a meditation–a first meditation– with such capable minds almost brought back the memory of her own inaugural flight, a mental relic locked away for only occasional study in the vault of her mind.

    Adani and Chara manage to stand shakily to their feet, guided by the light filtering through the now-open door.

    As the girls shuffled nervously from the chamber, Chiima stood and handed them each a waterskin.

    Adani’s face soured at the taste of the liquid therein, and Sanna rolled her eyes. Wordlessly, the four wandered out of the cloister building and into the cold gale, walking along the path to the private space–half-archive and half-dormitory–which Sanna and Chiima shared.

    To the north, the silhouette of the Tower of Epiphany stood, a gray shadow at the edges of the storm. Adani couldn’t help but gaze at it, transfixed. Chara could only look away. Only hours before, the tower was a mysterious, wondrous obstacle. A trial standing between the girls and their destinies. Now, it was a murderer.

    Sanna pushed the door open to her own lodging, before entering. Each woman in turn stomped and scraped the dirt-blackened snow from their bare feet upon the ragged doormat before stepping over the threshold. Chiima stooped, stoked the embers of the fire, and added some new fuel.

    As soon as the door had closed behind them, Sanna procured a charcoal nib and an empty tome. Adani and Chara were seated at the central table, barely finding room amongst the various sheets, scrolls, tomes, and vellums strewn across and off of it.

    Sanna’s silence was met in kind, until she opened her mouth in instruction.

    “We remember,” Adani assured. Despite her and Chara’s sudden determination, the fatigue and worry in their tired eyes was plain to see.

    “And we know whose memories are whose,” Chara confirms with a short nod. Sanna couldn’t help but wonder if the motion was made more to hide Chara’s face from her own. Sanna beckoned to her peer.

    Chiima looked up from the hearth, then, to share an impressed look with Sanna. She toyed with the placement of another piece of kindling before standing and procuring her own nib and scroll, leaning against the table before Chara.

    “I saw Cavaliers battling in a mining town,” Adani began.

    “Cavaliers,” Sanna asked, unable to mask the surprise in her voice. “You’re sure?”

    “They had bronze armor, three of them had plumes. They’re Cavaliers,” Adani nodded in affirmation.

    “I saw Bansse, furious, marching from Ighodia,” Chara picked up. I saw the confrontation between the three phalanxes. I’ve been there before, though, a town to the west of Ighodia, called Gharix Pass.”

    Chiima scrawled wordlessly.

    “It was… is… a bloodbath,” Adani assured.

    “Who did they meet in Gharix?” Chiima asked.

    “I don’t know him, but I can recognize him if I saw him again,” Chara withered.

    The silence melted into the sounds of the fire, taking to the kindling and crackling vibrantly.

    “I saw a Coghanese vessel,” Adani continued. “Looked like a fishing reme, completely bisected and sinking in the ocean.”

    “I saw a vessel being waylaid by some monster… I’ve never seen anything like it. A shell, like a crab, or a lobster, but colossal and long like a serpent. Horrible mandibles the size of men.” Chara shuddered at the recollection. Adani nodded her agreement. “I felt the hands, too,” Chara continued, voice falling. “Heard the whispers. Like you said,” she finished, with a pointed look at Chiima.

    Both students took the silence as a chance to steel themselves. Their mentors continued to scribble intently.

    “I saw a fortress. A tower, something big,” Adani broke the silence, her voice catching.

    “The latest memories are the hardest. Take your time,” Chiima reassured. Adani didn’t know whether to appreciate the comfort, or be disconcerted that it came from the most stoic of the Never-Nights she knew.

    “A fortress. At the top, something in armor. A horned helmet, like it was in regalia. Whatever it was, it was… it wasn’t alive,” Adani cuts. “And yet, not dead either. It had eyes like a serpent, and an axe…And it was like it could see me there with it.” Adani choked back a scared sob.

    “I almost thought the memory was mine,” Chara continued. “The eyes.”

    “What did you see?” Sanna asked, eyebrow raised.

    “An outlander. Pale as the dead, with a beat-up-looking leather coat and a tricorn cap. Walking through a storm, like the cold didn’t bother him any. Walking towards a town.”

    “Which town? What did the town look like?”

    “Couldn’t tell. Weather was too bad, I could barely see the lights. But his eyes…”

    “The voices woke me up,” Adani said. Sanna and Chiima both stop writing mid-stroke.

    “I didn’t hear any voices,” Chara said. “That’s all I remember. From when I was asleep, I mean.”

    Chiima cleared her throat and handed Sanna her scroll.

    “You two, pack a bag, and come right back here. Wear your gowns, boots, cloaks. We need to get to Ighodia.”

    “Livery?” Adani asked.

    “Whichever set feels right,” Chiima nodded. “Come right back here, don’t stop for anybody. We leave within the hour.”

    Adani’s face brightened into a euphoric smile as the gravity settled in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her once again. Chara had to sprint to keep up.

    “How long do we have?” Sanna asked the stoic Never-Night.

    “We may already be too late,” Chiima answered.

    posted in Coghan
  • RE: New Member Application

    have a vote 5/5

    posted in Closed Applications