Gondal: From The Ashes

Gondal: From The Ashes

Server info
Status	Archived
ID	1228058259869405205
Users	70+
Owner	Sohsaah
History
Founded	April 11th, 2024
Defunct	June 6th, 2024
Founder	Heckknok and ara

(the original page is deleted for how stupid it was. if you want to read it, please click here.)

After the death of Summer Gondal, There was no real sucessful server in the Gondal Lineage, multiple Gondal servers rising and falling over the 3 years since. Gondal: From the Ashes was started as a simple revival server by Heckknok and Ara, but slowly became one of the greatest servers to ever be made. Trvth.

Election Process

Presidential elections are ran for by creating a political party, complete with plans for the server, a party flag/banner, and a name. To be accepted into the votes, you must announce your party within the #Political-parties channel. The First round of voting commences with all Parties in the polls, but once that finishes, the last 2 parties with the least amount of votes lose and can no longer be the president. In the second round of voting, the Remaining parties are placed in the main section of the poll to be voted for and the 2 losers of the first round are placed in the "vice president" vote box, along with a third option, being to elect the 2nd place user of the main poll. Votes are Tallied, and the president and vice president are elected.

Council elections are ran for by applying for Council, either by yourself or as a connected group. There is only 1 round of council voting, and the 3 choices with the most votes get promoted to council.

Presidential terms are 2 weeks long, and council terms are 1 week, meaning the president will see 2 sets of council in their runtime. You can always re-run.

Season 1: From the Ashes (April 11th, 2024 - April 29th, 2024)

Season 1 was the start of the server, Named season 1 retrospectively. Season 1 was the most peaceful period in the servers history, mostly growing with little drama occuring.

The Yandere Astolfo (April 13th, 2024)

"The Yandere Astolfo" was an event autistically dubbed by server retard Patryk Kornatowski in which Gondalian Female Astolfo forced Patryk to write a poem confessing his love for her at the threat of suicide.

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Patryk, scared shitless by the idea of losing his dear trans kween, begged the mainly American demographic of the server to call the cops on Astolfo for her cord suicide. Seeing that his efforts to save his beautiful HSTS by getting her put in an asylum were in vain, Patryk quickly hopped onto poets.org to steal a romantic poem to appease her, beautifully working on his masterpiece that he totally stole.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That's sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mile. Patryk's Beautiful Poem

Patryk posted this, putting an end to his discord youngshit's plans of painting their wall red... Until it was discovered that Patryk had plagiarized the whole thing.

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Patryk, ashamed by the reception of his poetic debut, went back to writing, finding whatever inspiration he could, and the inspiration he found - was beautiful. It wasn't the Beatles, it wasn't any movie, and knowing Patryk it sure as hell wasn't nature - It was something better. an already published poem by Theodore. Finding his inspiration, Patryk quickly went to writing, stealing the entire poem word for word, happily publishing his work of art into the cord chat.

(@Astolfo) heres a better poem

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,

When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;

Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:

The shapes a bright container can contain!

Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,

Or English poets who grew up on Greek

(I’d have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek).

How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,

She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand;

She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin;

I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;

She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,

Coming behind her for her pretty sake

(But what prodigious mowing we did make).

Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:

Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;

She played it quick, she played it light and loose;

My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;

Her several parts could keep a pure repose,

Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose

(She moved in circles, and those circles moved).

Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:

I’m martyr to a motion not my own;

What’s freedom for? To know eternity.

I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.

But who would count eternity in days?

These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:

(I measure time by how a body sways).