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Check out Alpha Two Announcements here to see the latest news on Alpha Two.
Check out general Announcements here to see the latest news on Ashes of Creation & Intrepid Studios.
To get the quickest updates regarding Alpha Two, connect your Discord and Intrepid accounts here.
[NA-EST] Iron Coin | Competitive RP-PvX | Dwarves & Orcs | Cleric Archetype Required
Bergund
Member, Phoenix Initiative, Royalty, Kickstarter, Alpha One, Alpha Two, Early Alpha Two
[NA-EST] Iron Coin | RPvX | Dwarf & Orc | Cleric Exclusive
The 'Iron Coin' is a competitive sect of true-neutral dwarven combat clerics devoted to the dogma of Fate. We uphold a strict code of honoring our agreements by ruthlessly fulfilling community driven missions with an unwavering commitment to preserving the value of our sacred iron coins in the Commerce of Relationships. Join the Iron Coin and become part of a sect where your deeds shape the fate of Verra. For honor, loyalty, duty, pride, and Fate.As an act of manifest destiny — "SO BE IT" ᛊᛟ ᛒᛖ ᛁᛏ
Who We Are:
**Sect Size**: Small (Up to 80)**Race**: Dwarf and Orc
**Primary Archetype**: Cleric (PRIMARY or SECONDARY archetype)
**Node Type**: Divine
**Religion**: Sect of Fate (Monotheistic)
**Trade Focus**: Mining, Metalworking, Stonemasonry, Armor/Weapon Smithing, Jewel Cutting
What Makes Us Unique?
**The Commerce of Relationships**:Each member of our sect receives a unique iron coin, a tangible device which represents our commitment to ourselves, fellow members of the Iron Coin, and our submission to Fate. At the discretion of our members, their coin may be presented as a token of gratitude or form of payment to whomever they choose, thusly titled their 'Coin Bearer'. By the blood of our members which is infused within, we are bound to fulfill a single decree of the Coin Bearer to which there is no restriction (PvE/PvP/RP). The sect must rely on its collective prowess, cleverness, and resourcefulness to achieve the Coin Bearer’s intent as a team. This can take the form of:
Security Services: Defense for caravans, trade routes, and settlements.
PvP Expertise: Support in large scale military campaigns with specialized skills.
Special Operations: Strategic captures and high priority target elimination.
Raid and World Boss Content: Specialized defense and support for PvE raids.
Craftsmanship: Top-tier weapons, armor, and node support.
Exploration and Discovery: Hire us to explore uncharted territories and uncover treasures.
And much more!
**100% Cleric Composition**:
Our versatile class offers healing, resurrection, crowd control, mobility, and offensive/defensive capabilities, all augmented to fit your play style according to your archetype composition.
**100% Fate Progression**:
Unique end-game content and further ability augmentations tied to both the religion of Fate and the benefits of a divine node.
What We Offer You As A Member of the Iron Coin
**Community & Belonging**: We foster a strong sense of camaraderie and belonging. By joining the Iron Coin, you are casting aside 'the old man' - your ego. You are joining a selfless brotherhood who will succeed and fail in Ashes of Creation, together. As devoted community members, we bring value and memories to those we engage with.**Immersive RP**: Dive into an authentic roleplay experience as a harbinger of destiny, devoted to the tenets of Fate. Unify the cultures of the Dünzenkell dwarves, from their steadfast honor and tradition to their cherished families and craftsmanship. Participate in rich, narrative-driven roleplay that captures the essence of Dwarven life, including traditional ceremonies and epic feasts.
**Competitive PvP**: Engage in high-stakes PvP that leverage our distinct class composition and Fate progression. Our sect lives and breathes the principle that "winning matters," and we are committed to achieving victory through our unconventional strategy, superior tactics, resilience, and unwavering teamwork.
Discord: https://discord.gg/ironcoin
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@THE_IRON_COIN
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The evening of battle arrived. The bandits adorned themselves in terrifying armaments and seemed to be possessed by demons as they howled entering the town. The Mercenaries observing the scene had their bravery falter and they fled terrified leaving the town defenseless. The bandits began slaughtering the community with very few being able to put up a fight. Brynhild’s father, in full battle armor with ax and shield, stood guard in front of his home. Brynhild was locked inside. She could not see anything, but she could hear the battle shouts of her father and the howling of the bandits as they engaged him. The fighting continued through the night and eventually Brynhild became victim to fatigue and sleep overtook her.
Brynhild awoke to silence. There were no sounds of battle and she was still alive. She looked to the front door and it remained locked and unopened. She quietly approached the door and listened. At first, she heard nothing, but then she could hear struggled breathing. When she opened the door a scene of blood and bodies greeted her. And then, there was her father defending the front of her door still standing leaning on his battle ax. A pool of his own blood gathered beneath him. His wounds were uncountable, but he had successfully defended his daughter through the night. Brynhild rushed to her father. Upon seeing his daughter safe, her father knew he could finally die. He died in Brynhild’s arms, grasping and hugging him. She buried her father outside their home and took his helm, shield, and battleax. The now armored shield maiden cried out to the gods to give her strength and made a pledge to never let such an event happen again.
It was during one evening during a long night of drinking and praising the shield maiden in song did Brynhild stand and address her followers;
“Ye sorry bunch of dwarves are the bravest and toughest lads I have the privilege to lead. You are my Ironguard. We are not bound by blood, but by Honor! We do not share the same clan, but we are Kin! Many of ye had never tasted glory before, however together, we have feasted until our hearts content! When others flee the battlefield, we stand firm and resolute. I tell ye all now, and shout to all those yet to join us, the songs victories will echo throughout history and the names of our dead will forever be glorified in our future halls. Drink with me my Ironguard! May yer weapon always be readied and yer mugs never empty!”
Brynhild’s Ironguard erupted into cheers and the speech would be remembered and etched as the creed of the Ironguard.
And work harder she did. Brynhild continued to obtain honor and glory at an incredibly rapid pace. The royalty within the mountains could only watch as the Shieldmaiden's fame grew. The more achievements she received the more jealous they became. Soon, they began to hold a grudge and they would see this grudge fulfilled.
The bitter crowns brooded and plotted, looking for an opportunity to rid themselves of this upstart Shieldmaiden. The chance revealed itself when a large tribe of orcs started raiding several settlements near the mountains. They would call upon Brynhild for assistance in dealing with this threat. Brynhild promptly answered the call and arrived at the hall of gathered royalty to accept their request. The crowns, still despising the Shieldmaiden, feigned concern for her safety in going up against such a large tribe of orcs. Feeling belittled once again, the fiery Brynhild responded in a boastful taunt stating her Ironguard were twice as brave as any dwarf in the chamber and she was three times braver than any King or Queen. The gathered kings burned with rage hearing the insult, but kept their composure knowing their grudge would be fulfilled on the battlefield. They pretended to dismiss the affront and praise Brynhild and appointed her as the vanguard. One Queen offered to send her armies to reinforce and protect the flanks.
The dawn of battle arrived and Brynhild with her Ironguard took up a defensive position on the front lines. With her flanks guarded she and her seasoned Ironguard could withstand the entire assault from the savage orcs. She assigned two lieutenants, the High Priest Bergund and the Shadow Disciple Saljourn to protect her left and right while Brynhild stood stalwart in the middle with the banner of the Ironguard planted proudly nearby. Brynhild taunted the savage orcs to charge and without much convincing the orcs answered the call to battle.
The wave of orcs slammed into the defensive line of the Ironguard. The shield wall did not move an inch. Again, the orcs assaulted the fortified position and again no ground was lost. Brynhild praised and cheered on her Ironguard and they answered with deafening battle cries. Glory would be won again this day. Brynhild then heard a shout from her lieutenant Bergund- the right side was beginning to become overrun. Shocked, Brynhild ordered some of her line to go reinforce. Moments later she heard a shout from Saljourn- the left side was faltering as well. Startled and confused, Brynhild exited her line to examine the situation. She looked behind her fortified position and what she saw stunned her. The dwarven armies protecting her flanks had withdrawn back to join the reinforcements. Brynhild was now left exposed on three sides. The sudden realization of what had taken place sent a cold shudder down her spine leaving her courage faltering for a moment. However, hatred soon took over and her spirit burned even brighter than before. She rejoined her line announcing to her Ironguard they were to fight a true glorious fight that day.
A few members in the pact of Kings and Queens having withdrawn their supportive forces, with smug satisfaction, watched as the Ironguard were overrun. Chuckling, they felt satisfied: humbling the Shieldmaiden would settle their grudge. One Queen ordered a messenger to ride to Brynhild’s line asking her to retreat and they would destroy the orcs together. When the message arrived asking Brynhild to act dishonorably, she spat on the individual. She shouted that an Ironguard never retreats. She ordered the messenger to report back to the royal decree: she would show them what true honor looks like.
When the Queen received Brynhild’s message, they were outraged. They exclaimed if Brynhild sought death then she could have it. The commanding royalty and their armies stood by and watched as a sea of orcs began surrounding the Ironguard. They repeatedly observed when one Ironguard fell, another would take their place. The shield wall continued to hold but began to slowly shrink with every death. The anger of the royal party once again began to subside as they witnessed the stalwart Ironguard hold their ground. They were indeed struck by awe, but no effort was made to reinforce the bloodied Ironguard.
The scene within the defensive position was horrific. Every Ironguard was either stabbed, gashed, or dead. Orc blood covered the battlefield. Brynhild had slain dozens. The number of Ironguard had been severely reduced. The wounded were carried to the center of what was left of the formation. Brynhild had countless wounds and her blood pooled on the ground beneath her. The cleric Bergund rushed to her to offer what little aid he had left. Brynhild snarled and shoved the cleric back to the wounded. When Bergund protested and attempted to mend her wounds again she gave him the following Order:
“Bergund Ironguard, I hereby give you the following oath. I order you henceforth to be the leader of the Ironguard and carry on my legacy. You will heal those who are wounded first so they can obtain more glory before their death. Now go!”
Brynhild then ordered her second Lieutenant Saljourn to guard Bergund and the wounded. She stood defiantly, protecting her Ironguard. Eventually she was the only dwarf nearby, holding her own as she held her word. The battle raged for the entire day until dusk. As depleted as the Ironguard were, the savage orcs were faring much worse. The waves of orcs were now a small trickle. The wounded and remaining Ironguard watched their leader take wound after wound as she stood alone defending the line. For every one injury she took she slayed two orcs. After seeing their tribe could not breach the stalwart dwarf, the morale of the orcs shattered and they retreated. Brynhild watched as orcs fled and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had once again proven herself against her doubters and obtained glory. Mustering what little strength she had left, Brynhild struggled backwards to lean against the Banner of the Ironguard. She took off her helm placing it atop the banner allowing the cool breeze to touch her face. She looked up to the sky and smiled. She had done what her father had done for her in protecting her Ironguard. And now, she would get to see her father again. Shieldmaiden Brynhild Bear Slayer Ironguard died leaning against her banner.
The surviving Ironguard cried out for their slain leader. Bergund, one of the few Ironguard still able to walk, made his way to the slain Brynhild and promised he would see the remaining Ironguard to safety and rebuild her legacy in his name. He carefully laid Brynhild on the ground so she could have the eternal rest she so deserved. As a final act, the battle cleric for unknown reasons to him exactly, placed two silver coins from his satchel on her eyes, as if symbolically in an act of memoriam. Hearing many of the Ironguard still mourning, Bergund spotted the Shieldmaiden’s helm still hanging from the banner. He turned to his fellow Ironguard, and shouted:
“Fear not my kin! Although Brynhild has died gloriously, her helm still rests atop our banner! Stand strong with me, as Brynhild watches over us all!” and the rest of his dwarven warriors stood and shouted in return, “Brynhild watches over us all!”
Standing stiff as stone, the Kings and Queens overlooking the battle were in complete shock at what they had just witnessed. The dwarven lass they had plotted against had held her ground alongside her kin with honor and obtained victory against what seemed like impossible odds. Their hatred for Brynhild soon turned to embarrassment and shame. Not able to cope with the situation, many of the Royalty present debated having the remaining Ironguard attacked and slain. Overhearing this pitiful dwarven banter, Bergund Ironguard made his way to the gathering and could not help but notice those leading the conversation were the dwarves who "supported" the Ironguard during the fight. With a level of distaste not yet before seen in the battle cleric, Bergund pointed at the dwarven delegates of the mountain and gave his word:
“You will do well to speak the Ironguard’s name in high regard from this day forward. If not, a debt will be owed and repaid in full, by my beard. One day, one way, or another.”
With little left to say to the betrayal he witnessed that day, he turned his back and set his eyes on the battlefield to find the wounded and offer his aid. With each step, a newfound determination built within the hardened cleric: he would rebuild the Ironguard, with the help of his clerical skills and the steadfast knowledgeable kin by his side, into a force that could defend against a stab in the back like that for the rest of their days. However, even then, he could still tell there was something missing that he was unsure how to replace: purpose.
While tending to the wounded and clearing the battlefield of the destruction and debris that had befallen the area, Bergund could see in the distance a tall cloaked figure walking from one point to another, bending down to fallen orcs on the far side of the battlefield, and resting their hands on the bodies momentarily. A healer?! Bergund quickly armed himself with his ax and charged headstrong towards the culprit.
Upon hearing the iron plate and chainmail clatter, the cloaked figure raised their empty hands in peaceful surrender and turned towards the inflamed dwarf. Their head now looking towards the sky, they seemed to be gazing at the Harbingers above.
“I am NOT your enemy, Bergund of Iron” the creature insisted, and at this moment Bergund was struck by the strange nickname, accent, and lilac skin tone. “I am of the Protectorate, here to honor the fallen and aid the wounded. In the name of the divine, Fate has brought me to this place and time, to protect those still living through peaceful gestures.”
“That’s Bergund Ironguard to you. How do you know my name? Who are you?” The dwarf kept his eyes locked and his ax at the ready. “What are you doing to these felled orcs?”
“I am honoring the dead, as you have” the creature smiles while turning Bergund’s attention to the fallen orcs. One of their slender hands slowly reaches into their bulbous robes, “I have a gift for you.” Bergund glanced quickly and noticed each orc the creature visited had silver coins placed on their eyes- it was then that he disarmed his heart and lowered his ax. “The Goddess of Fate, Norlan herself, wanted you to have this item. As a servant of her divine order, and as foretold in the stars, it is now time I give you this symbol of Fate’s abundance.”
Bergund’s brow was cross, and he kept his eyes directed towards the hooded creature’s head as he extended his bloodied hand to receive the item, a coin, but not an ordinary silver coin. The coin was darker, dull, and more dense. “This is your Iron Coin, Bergund, and you would do well to respect it as you have demanded of yourself, your kin, and others,” the creature shifted their head towards the departing dwarven royalty behind the battle cleric, to which Bergund followed their shaded gaze. “Now that you hold Fate in your hands, what are you going to do with it?”
The coin is a rite of passage. SO BE IT.