oozey mess
Cosmic Funnies
if i look back, i am lost
Jules of Nature
NASA
izzy's playlists!
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
h
YOU ARE THE REASON
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
almost home
romaâ
sheepfilms
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Claire Keane
noise dept.
occasionally subtle
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
DEAR READER
Origami Around
seen from Malaysia
seen from Spain
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Brazil
seen from TĂźrkiye
@vaeringi
PSA: HIATUS
// You may still find me here. I'll monitor my inbox but thatâs all. I donât have the power to continue Vere on my own any more.
Iâd like to thank everyone who has participated in shaping Vere by roleplaying with me, actively supporting the worldbuilding efforts or simply encouraging Vere to further evolve from afar.Â
May your blogs and lives be more successful than mine in future days.Â
//Â
Is Vaeringi dead?
Yes... no... I donât know. A religion dies when its last follower dies. Iâm the last one to hold on to this fandom so I suppose everything dies with me.
What is going to happen?
Again, I donât know. Blog revamps havenât been successful in the past, they wonât be successful now. If my writing werenât that arbitrary, I would have started over with another blog in a more popular fandom. That, unfortunately, is not an option for me. Â
What will the threads do?
There will be a list of active threads in a moment. I will also extend the time frame of what is considered an active thread to 120 days between replies to scavenge whatever possible roleplay there still is since the community is very small. (Yet I donât understand how people can have 1000+ followers here?)
What about my muses?
If the aforementioned problems are solved in a way that it doesnât end right at the first one, I have to rework some muses, too. I do have some ideas for that already. Making this blog more user friendly means removing 95% of my world and closing the remaining part so thereâs no way out. I will then have a few muses in a designated region of Enendia instead of trying to tell stories of different places that no one wants to hear.Â
Can life return to normal ever again?
No. That certainly is off the table. The motivation to continue a project that has no chance of success is by now lower than the motivation to continue my life - which means thereâs not going to be much progress in the future. He who tries can fail, but he who doesnât try has already failed. With this fandom I tried and failed. The best thing is to leave it be for now.
There will be a shoutout to anyone who has interest in seeing this world live on and probably at some point an Enendia Three.
Robin smiled a little at the girl. She seemed to be having a bad day. âWell,do you want to eat or something? It would be on me.â She tried to say as cheerfully as possible, hoping to lighten the mood. Being merry is always what she was good at. âIâm so hungry I could eat a horse.â
   âThe horses are in the stable.â With that, Rhiannon harshly turned away from the person to leave her and the mead hall. Carefully she sought her way through the crowd to the door on the other end of the long building. The young woman made no efforts to take a last glance at the guests before gently pushing the handle and stepping outside into the evening sun that was shining low over the golden fields.
   Rhiannon would soon have all her hands full when the harvest season began. There would be no time for letting her mind wander, her parents often told her. The corn, however, could well do with another month of maturing as the last winter had ended late in spring and perhaps she should head for the stables after all, now that even the tavern as a place of refuge was unapproachable.Â
// Look whoâs finally got up to finish that thing... itâs still... meh.. but hey, itâs done. Now I can say I did at least something this week... something completely unnecessary.Â
đ°
Send đ°Â to buy Beleg as a slave
He was not the most beautiful looking elf on show - covered in grime from weeks of without any way of washing, his hair matted with blood and dirt. His back was aching from the whip, but he held his head high, grey eyes narrowing angrily at his buyer. He would not submit himself like this, not to anyone.
   âI canât do everything on my own, now can I?â Elsabeta affirmed, clenching her teeth as she crawled back out of her abode under the earth. When the young woman stood again, she swept off the dust from her discoloured linen cloth. She had her dagger, now she needed the fishing rod.Â
   The Arkyrian untied the rope from the stone again and fastened it to her left arm. âYou will come with me or I will come with you, either way works for me,â Elsabeta stated. Of course she was not a noblewoman. Who were they after all? Being imprisoned, blinded, sent into the desert⌠why would anyone ever chose a life like this? âHah, Iâm glad Iâm not one of them. And like I said, you will see.â
âI have yet to see anythingâŚâ He huffed. If he had wanted too, he could have easily pulled her along with him - but he didnât fancy the idea of her tagging along everywhere he went.
âCan we get going now? Iâm sure you donât have all day.â
   Another slave would have served her better, probably. Elsabeta had bought him, now he would be brought to a good use, for as long as her slave was still useful to her. If her slave chose to disobey her, he would end up with a dagger in his back. Or in his limb. Or both. Being stabbed to death for his errors. That would be his fate, a self-satisfied smirk went over Elsabetaâs face.Â
// I need them because Iâm weak. Theyâll never need me because I canât match their greatness.Â
// I have three replies to do and I havenât done any of them yet? Well, yes. I tried to, but every attempt came back to the conclusion that my writing isnât good enough to suit these threads.
is klm serving lembas now??
// If it were about me, I would unfollow you all this very instant because I canât cope with so many great people around me who have both more successful lives and blogs.
// Iâm still here, just too depressed to do my two replies. Sorry.
PSA
Activity is not going to drop over the next few months because
why should it?
Iâm not going to be good enough at studying anyway
as soon as Iâve failed something I wonât pass the other modules either
I have no social life
if you can get three A*s in science subjects I can do a full length reply in one day that hasnât a mistake in it
Activity might drop at some point because
thereâs no internet any more
I havenât got far with my strategy because I wasnât good enough
Iâve probably died
there are better roleplayers than me who are also engaged in life and deserve attention
   There was the desire to enter the townâs harbour in hear heart. Softly calling Elsabeta closer. Being free to go wherever she wanted, for as long as she wanted; or until her last ducat was spent.Â
   She could pick a ship departing for the west. See Telerion - or even better, go to Avernia to try her luck in those foreign lands of which mysterious stories were told. The crowded places, however, intimidated the daughter of steppe nomads. But Avernia was better, was it not?
   Contemplating about her future and the things she could buy with her money, Elsabeta sighed and turned away from the imposing building to seek a tavern or a place where she could sit alone and think.Â
   But all of a sudden she stopped. An irritating coldness grabbed her feet and quickly rose upwards to her neck, making her flinch. The horse. She had forgotten about her horse.
   Anxiously she started racing across the market square, watching various mounts as they came and went, hoping to find one that, at least, looked ownerless. Where had she dismounted? Elsabetaâs breath was heavy when she found herself once more before the white building, but not from her running. She would she cried after being so ignorant about her only companion. How far would she come if she could not even take care of her own mount?
Once she had finished her food, Dârorah figured she would do well to get her bearings in the city. Â The innâs patrons had little to overhear in the way of information that was actually of interest to her, so she secured her room and then stepped back out into the day.
She had no particular destination in mind, hadnât really thought of Elsabeta other than to wonder whether she was enjoying her newly found riches. Â Sheâd been a little surprised the other woman hadnât tried to foist her half of the money from the sale of the slaves upon her, but she was also relieved. Â She probably would have looked like a madwoman, turning down the coin.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, she spotted a familiar visage looking distraught and out of breath.  She debated whether she should approach or not⌠but she felt compelled to make certain Elsabeta was at least alright.
âHas something happened?â
   Elsabetaâs body shook in fear as she did not find the mare on the market square. Her mount was gone, of that she was certain. She would not even want to know the exact whereabouts any more; it now belonged to someone more fortunate than her.Â
   With a desperate sigh the Arkyrian tried to hold back the tears as she watched other horses carry their mastersâ goods from one point of the city to another. The plans she had conceived had not included the buying of another horse. Her money would not satisfy the traders after all.Â
   Lifelessly she gazed at the market in front of her when Dârorah entered her field of view. Elsabeta could hardly turn around and avoid a confrontation with her acquaintance; not after she had seen her in the dreadful state in which she was. Â
   âNothing has happened,â she excused. âI got lost in one of the back streets.â Her lie, she thought, hardly concealed the truth. For a steppe child like Elsabeta had been, words did not come naturally. Horses, however, did. And she had lost one.
// I donât really deserve being here I guess...
@vaeringi liked for a Starter
Young Islwyn had always had trouble with other people as she was so timid. Yet living by the Lake of Avalon gave her a sense of security as she always spoke with The Lady of the Lake. But not since she came to RavenwoodâŚshe had nobody now save for Moonim
   âHallard be with you!â Tarec greeted the stranger coming up to his forest shack where he lived. It was not common for a taveller to take the forest trail to the south when though the city of Sevalar lay but a few more hours along the great road to the north. Certainly she must have got lost on the way, but Tarec was willing to lead her back to the village.Â
âI do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this.â
   âWhat? What?â Palia looked around herself, touching her pockets to guess what they contained. âWhat do you mean?â From one she pulled out a spruce cone and a handmade necklace. Was it that? âTell me! What has your heart desired?â The trader swiftly put the two items back and took off her blue travel coat to search for other things she was carrying without knowing it. âWhat do you want from me?â
   âAh yes, yes, I would gladly return home to Avernia⌠but I would not want to go to Avernia though! Bad memories around the place.â The smile on her lips suddenly faded as she realized what she had said. Did it even make any sense at all? No. Silently she cursed at herself for her carelessness.Â
   âI do think I have to go now! Storm clouds on the sky, I donât want to get wet. I hate getting wet. Everythingâs so tight then. Not the cart, but the clothes.â Palia nodded again, slowly walking backwards to her cart.
âYou just saidâŚâÂ
Erestor shook his head, sighing again. If the girl wished to leave, he would not stop her, no matter how curious he was.
He could, however, understand her. For so long, he had wished to return to his home, far across the Sea, but how could he? He was not brave enough to face the risk of punishment for his age old crimes.Â
   Backing off, she stumbled over some of the wares on the ground about which she had forgotten. The trader went down with a panicked screech, rolling herself up as her light body touched the ground. Her hands she held anxiously above her head, unaware of the danger she thought she perceived.     Palia whined for help, silently, so no one could hear her despair. What had happened? Was she being ambushed? She hated being ambushed when she wanted to trade. But it happened so often!
đ°
Send đ°Â to buy Beleg as a slave
He was not the most beautiful looking elf on show - covered in grime from weeks of without any way of washing, his hair matted with blood and dirt. His back was aching from the whip, but he held his head high, grey eyes narrowing angrily at his buyer. He would not submit himself like this, not to anyone.
  Arriving at her village after a good while of walking the well-trotted roads silently beside her slave, she was heading straight for her tent. Behind a reddish-brown rock at the western end of the settlement a tattered piece of cloth hung over haphazardly constructed poles made of driftwood. That was her home. The rock would keep the warmth of the light beams even when the sun had long set. She would not want to live anywhere else. It was perfect.
âIâŚâ
He stared at the sight before him, his confusion ( which had grown over the walk ) clear on his face. He had thought she was a wealthy woman, maybe a successful merchant, or the child of one. Not⌠this.
âDo you live here?â
   âYou wait here,â she retorted, tying the end of the rope around a solid rock on the ground. How ungrateful the slave was. Her home was anything but desolate. Crawling into the tent on all fours, she entered her modest pit. Although being dug into the ground, it seldom was flooded with rainwater. Perhaps because the dry earth would soak up any liquid it touched.Â
   Every item of furniture, as long as Elsabeta could speak of furniture, the woman had either built herself of driftwood or bought from travelling merchants. The Arkyrian was very proud of it, even then when she spent considerably little time here but outside, gathering berries or catching fish.Â
Displeased with that answer, Beleg huffed, taking a seat to rest his aching feet. Why would a woman who did not even have a home of her own choose to buy a slave. He might make a good bodyguard or labourer, but he would not help her survive like four loaves of bread would. He called out into the makeshift home, curious.
âWhatâs your name?â
   Under her bed cover she stored her most valuable possessions: A coffer with different coins, a map, and a dagger. Taking the dagger she shut the coffer again, pushing it back behind her bed and putting the cover back over it. A fine linen coat it was. A travelling knight from far away once gave it to her.Â
   She stretched out her head when the rasping voice echoed in her pit. âElsabeta, you may call me. Not Beta. Beta some call me. But you shall call me Elsabeta.â Or rather Master Elsabeta? She could not make up her mind. The young woman did not belong to the group of great slave traders but a commoner trying to find a life that would be worth living. Obtaining a slave was the first step towards her goal.
âI see.â he did not sound particularly interested, sitting with his back against the rock and long legs stretched out in front of him. âI am called Beleg, if you care to call me anything.â In truth, it mattered very little to him what she called him - he did not plan on staying here very long - but his name was better than simply slave.
âYou are not a noblewoman. I expected you to be - what use is a slave to you?â
   âI canât do everything on my own, now can I?â Elsabeta affirmed, clenching her teeth as she crawled back out of her abode under the earth. When the young woman stood again, she swept off the dust from her discoloured linen cloth. She had her dagger, now she needed the fishing rod.Â
   The Arkyrian untied the rope from the stone again and fastened it to her left arm. âYou will come with me or I will come with you, either way works for me,â Elsabeta stated. Of course she was not a noblewoman. Who were they after all? Being imprisoned, blinded, sent into the desert⌠why would anyone ever chose a life like this? âHah, Iâm glad Iâm not one of them. And like I said, you will see.â
Arkyria in the year of Alaria 1009
with: @thebamfblueelfÂ
   Another silverskin, Elsabeta rolled her eyes. She had been sitting on her rock since dawn. What was this person doing here by her fishing spot? Did he not have better things to do than stealing her fish. There were enough fine fishing spots along the coast - and this one was hers.Â
   Guardedly she decided not to chase the person away as she usually did. After all, the stranger seemed determined to walk directly up to her, whatsoever his cause might be.Â
   âCan I somehow help you?â She called out to the man, trying not to sound too reluctant.Â
Kurt was lost, but that was what he got for trying out some new invention to help his teleporting Hank had made him. Granted he didnât need help teleporting, it was like questioning his virility in a sense. But he had done it begrudgingly with a few huffs and puffs. Hank was his friend after all, what was the worst that could happen? Well, seems teleporting to another world entirely was what could happen and now he was clueless, hungry, and a title lost. So he resorted to things he did as a youth. Stealing some clothes to blend in he turned his watch to looking human so no one would try to burn him at the stake or some such nonsense and went to trying to find food.
Of course spotting someone on a rock fishing meant there had to be food close right? He paused when addressed fingers flinching some before pursing his lips. âDo not suppose you have directions to the closest town⌠und where to get gute food?â He asked not one to eat swill to willingly.
   âAh you need what?â Elsabeta tilted her head in confusion, trying to recall what it was the man was asking. âWell, IâmâŚâ She uttered, âI donât suppose to know the way to the next town?â What a strange person this was. Perhaps she should just point at the horizon and hope he would get her message and come back no more.Â
   Elsabeta had to admit, she felt a little insecure with that person standing right next to her. She could hardly ignore him now. âI fear I canât help you with whatever it is you need.â Drawing her attention back to the bespoke fishing rod she was steadily holding in both hands, she felt as though the string had made a move. When the woman pulled the rod a bit closer, she could see a young fish nibbling on the mulberry that was tied to the other end of the string. âYouâre not getting away with that fruit and you know it,â she cynically mumbled, ready to drag the fish out of his realm once it took a larger bite of the mulberry. Â
He looked to her then back to where she was focused on clearly catching food. Well least there river had fish he could get some sighing through his nose as he tilted his head hands tucking in his pockets as he did so. âBecause people tend to know where villages are since they are a source of many things of importance.â He pointed out just moving to stand where the fish wouldnât be spooked by the shadow and watched her hands behind her back as he did so now. Really he was trying to be polite, he just wanted directions figuring with how she was talking to the fish she wasnât going to share that.
   Elsabeta, too, eyed the stranger with cautious carefulness. Was this man trying to mock her? Embarrass her before the fish she caught so it would not be the one that laughed last? Supposedly it was so. âNow look here, I do know the settlements that are around here. And certainly they are important. I, personally, would be very glad to go to one.â Not with this man though. He was mysterious, impossible to understand.Â
   The fish was still fumbling with the fruit, so Elsabeta patiently decided to observe him a little longer. The creature would have to swallow the fruit as a whole, then there was no escape into the endless sea any more.
