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Player Written Story Note Archive

Note: If you see names without the note below, its due to their story not being posted to "All"

Listed By Author Name

A Change
A change 2
A change 3
A change 4
X Descending into Darkness X
Elves. Dwarves. Change.
Sending Thoughts and Prayers
The Visit
-=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue)
Trophies from Skull Keep pt 4
His first dark sermon
His first dark sermon 2
The Garden of Death
Still Waiting....
Cupcake War, Interrupted
Step by Step
The Visit of Vershae
Return of the Cannibelf.
A Priest of Lord Dragoth
On the Hunt
Praises of Lord Dragoth
An Eve of Preaching
Vigil pt 2
Upon reading a missive...
An Awakening
Idiocy and Blindness
-=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue Part 2)
An Incessant Need Need
A Culling
Succumbing to cruelty
A Pathetic Attempt
X A Culling X
-=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue Part 3)
A Day of Deep Meditation
Fw: A Questioning
The Second Culling
The Voyage (Part 1/2)
The Voyage (Part 2/2)
The Second Culling Part 2
The Fog
X Overlaying Shadows, Attenuating Veil X
The Underworld's Fairy Queen
X Mist, Rain, Snow X
On the Hunt II
Spirit Warrior
Passing the Time
Spirit Warrior II
On the Hunt III
walking the light
The Bargain
The Day of the Dead, a Sermon
The Bargain pt. II
A Creation
An Awakening
-=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue Part 4)
A torch
The Bargain pt. III
Drill Sergeant?.. Drill Soldier!
The Bargain pt. IV
Second Beginnings
X Leaves of Flame X
And the torch grows brighter
Truly Blessed
[The Operation, Part One]
X The Operation: Part Two X
Lessons with Lord Crown (Part 1 of 2)
Lessons with Lord Crown (Part 2 of 2)
X Mercy Killing, Part One X
X Mercy Killing, Part Two X
The Bargain pt. V
[The Operation, Part Three]
Lessons with Bishop Arreana (Part 1 of 2)
Lessons with Bishop Arreana (Part 2 of 2)
Spirit Walk (Part 1)
Spirit Walk (Part 2)
The Debate
The Bargain pt. VI
Kender and Temples
Where the Fairies Are 01
The Caravan.
Lesson one - "Gold to a cat" (Epilogue)
Who's Helping Who?
Where the Fairies Are 02
Lesson two - "After the rain, earth hardens."
Where the Fairies Are 03
Where the Fairies Are 04
Lesson Two - "After the rain, earth hardens" (Epilogue)
Where the Fairies Are 05
A higher calling (Part 4)
Compassion - Part 1 of 2
Compassion - Part 2 of 2

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sun Oct 9 21:45:41 2016

To All Zola ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject A Change

Kahlyn walked into the gardens of Althiania and found the man he called
his brother, Benthic, waiting there. He had wanted to speak with him for
many moons but it always seemed they missed each other due to slumber. His
idea was correct in waking this evening.

For so long, he had been walking on egg shells. His family thought him
insane, his own father threatened him, his sister vied for power the entire
time he was the Emperor of Althainia. His own wife had moved against him
and he was tired. He knew Benthic, his brother in faith and arms, was tired
of fighting the rage within himself as well... So with his help, he would
help Benthic stop blocking rage and embrace it.

And Kahlyn would find solace in the opposite of the lies he had been fed all
his life. Decay and disease would be his following. He would find solace
in Dragoth, he would show everyone howcrazed he was not.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sun Oct 9 21:47:30 2016

To All Zola ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject A change 2

Kahlyn had been waiting patiently All his life to be shown his true path.
He never questioned, never faltered, perhaps he should have.

He was in a constant state of wonder these days, not wonderment... Wonder.
He wondered why Kantilles would call someone a whore based on the color of
her aura, why he bore such anger and hatred. Hatred is not the way, Kahlyn
had always preached love and understanding in the past. He had taught
compassion, but clearly he was wrong in his teachings, Kantilles had shown
him that. His own father had shown him that with kicking out everyone out
of the House of Snowdragon that had an original thought or dared to disagree
with him. This is not of goodness. He would no longer be a part of a
religion that taught hatred and lied.

No longer. Never again. Another would hear his prayers now...Dragoth.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sun Oct 9 21:49:18 2016

To All Zola Azheri ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject A change 3

Kahlyn had waited four days with no word from Kantilles, furthering his
resolve. Kantilles had been silent for so long and he wondered why He had
ever come to him to begin with. He would continue praying to Lord Dragoth
and await His presence. In the meantime, he would seek out the High Priest
Dunnikin, as Azheri had advised.

Azheri, he had been a long time family friend until he changed his faith...
Now Kahlyn understood the past a bit better. He proceeded to make
arrangements and it was getting late.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sun Oct 9 21:50:53 2016

To All Zola ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject A change 4

The meeting was set. He was to speak with Bishop Zola about the pantheon
opposite the light. They talked on many matters and it All came back to the
arrogance, the willful use of vengeance, the hatred that many of the "light"
was. He knew he was seeing more clearly and would not fear this awakening.
He would still be Kahlyn, but a stronger version. The Bishop Zola promised
to aid in the changing as much he could and would help find a priest of
Dragoth. But All good things must find patient people surrounding such a
time. 'And I shall bear such patience' Kahlyn half whispered.

Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 9 23:20:11 2016

To All Kahlyn Benthic Abaddon Bloodlust Darkonin Verminasia Immortals Fatale

Subject X Descending into Darkness X

The Deathscythe observed quietly as the two men departed, silent as a
shadow, deep in thought. They too had much to think on, their conversation
had been a fruitful one. He had needed to ask little to know the truth of
the matter, only a few subtle nudges to steer their talk down the proper

They could not be faulted for their ignorance. They had been lied to all
their life, brought up on the delusions of righteousness and honor. Spoon
fed it by their family until they choked on the words that were more hollow
than their empty souls.

But in their hollowness they had found the Dark... And it had given way to
the Truth.

Now they were seeking to understand the truth they knew, renouncing their
false deities for the ones they truly carried in their hearts. Zola was no
Dragothian, or Mencian, but he was a servant of the Lord Fatale and thus, a
servant of the Darkness. They were his pack, for if the Light was naught
but weak-willed and mindless sheep... Then they were the wolves. Oh they
knew well of hate, of vengeance, of destruction. The difference was they
were honest and forward with such, not hiding behind false platitudes and
empty promises.

And soon, the two young men he'd just met would no longer have to hide
either. The whole world would see them for who they really were.

Chuckling darkly to himself, Zola faded into the shadows and disappeared
into the darkness, vanishing back from when he had come. He had much to do.
Especially now.

Writer: Corron

Date Mon Oct 10 13:02:24 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 10 13:05:55 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 10 13:08:26 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 10 13:10:40 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 10 13:15:55 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 10 13:18:24 2016

Writer: Betha
Date Mon Oct 10 17:41:55 2016

To Wargar Thaxanos All Immortal RP Cliath

Subject Elves. Dwarves. Change.

The floor around Betha's feet was littered in diamond shards and pieces.
A craft she had performed effortlessly for so many years, even with scarred
hands, but in these moments her cuts were off. She was distracted and the
cracked or broken gems tumbled from her fingers and had to be replaced with
the next uncut specimen.

Over her life, she had enjoyed many conversations with others from outside
the mountain clan hall. Most with friends but on occasion she would be
approached by those at war with the dwarves. Taunts weren't as numbered as
they once were, now there were more gem questions, inquiries about dwarven
issues, runesmith abilities, and attempts to find other dwarves.

This time was different.

The voice floated like a whisper to Betha's ears. She could tell it was
elven. He inquired as to why she had left the Thaneship and then
disappeared for a time. And why she felt a need to return to the mountain.
She knew the voice from years ago, though she didn't remember having ever
spoken directly to him. She had spoken to others, even developed a sense of
respect for them. She knew they fought for what they believed, just like
she had.

He asked Betha if she thought the times had changed. Had she seen a
difference in her fellow dwarves? Did the realms seem to have developed a
different state of existence. Betha was forced to admit, to him and to
herself, that it All was true. What the dwarves once stood for, what they
strove hardest at, was now different. Those who actively fought were more
interested in gaining their own strength than staying invested in more
important wars of past years.

The biggest thing to suffer was the war with the elves.

When Betha made her way to the mountain, the war with the elves was the
mainstay of dwarven existence. Making sure the elves were kept at bay from
the mountain, and unable to cause havoc as they once did with Cliath.
Dwarves stood at the elven homestone, chopped down their trees and demanded
they come and fight. Elves did the same near Wargar hall, leaving trees to
grow as their own calling cards. It was a glorious time and the wars had a
purpose other than who would be known as the strongest.


Betha could only guess it was after affects of many things. Unity in the
God wars. Unity against Chaos. Unity in fighting down the stronger
clans. Hard to have a killing vengeance for those you stand beside in life
endangering situations. And other wars tended to influence the fighting
between dwarf and elf. Common allies. Games. Contests.

Betha secretly blamed Raije. Maybe someday soon, Cliath would get things set back right.

Writer: Elrei
Date Tue Oct 11 17:27:48 2016

To All Taliena Imm RP Religion

Subject Sending Thoughts and Prayers

He could not claim to be surprised by recent revelations, but Elrei
was still saddened by them. He had been hopeful that Kahlyn and Benthic
would emerge from the darkness that had seemed to take hold in their minds -
indeed, the last time Elrei had seen Kahlyn, the former Emperor had been far
more reasonable - but their announcements to the world proved otherwise.

Benthic had spoken, before, of how he feared the Evil of Rage, how he
believed he would not escape it again if it overtook him. And Elrei had
seen how, despite that fear, Benthic had slipped further and further into
the shadows. Elrei had tried to warn him, to warn them both, and to guide
even in the height of their transgressions, but as was always the case the
Elf's words were dismissed. Not for the first time, he wondered what curse
he was under that he should be considered so respected, yet never heeded.

Resting within the Sanctuary he had built, Elrei did the only thing he
seemed capable of doing: praying for a return to sanity, and safety upon
their hearts' paths. He did not expect it would have any result, but he had
to hope it was better than nothing at all.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Tue Oct 11 18:48:05 2016

To All Zola ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject The Visit

Kahlyn heard the loud steps of a rather large knight and turned around to
see a knight coming towards him, interrupting his conversation. Back and
forth they spoke, each trying to get the other to understand. He was a
knight of the Lance, deliverer of Justice to those whom turned their backs
on the gods of light. Kahlyn explained without emotion why he was doing
such and he felt like a broken record: he would no longer follow a pantheon
that allowed thier mortals to seek vengeance, hold grudges, be supremely
selfish and more. No. Kahlyn held his ground and at the end of it all, was
shunned. The world became grayer, the shadows were no longer ominous and an
enchantor was no longer able to enchant.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Wed Oct 12 01:44:57 2016

To All Zola ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject Anticipation

Kahlyn glanced about the Obsidian Altar with anticipation. He was
halfway home and felt the weight of the day melt away into the shadows. He
paused his prayers to Lord Dragoth to reflect on the day's events. Since
his connection to Kantilles had been severed, he had felt a calmness as
never before. It was as if a blindfold had been lifted from his eyes and he
was almost giddy. He was certain his prayers would be heard, his patience
would be rewarded. 'Soon, ' he whispered.

Writer: Mercerion
Date Wed Oct 12 02:05:46 2016

Writer: Zorreau
Date Wed Oct 12 04:18:41 2016

To Shadow Fyahy'll All ( Imm RP Kyri Necrucifer )

Subject -=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue)

An energetic buzz filled the hallowed hallways of Storm Keep. An
excellent presence within the halls led to victory over the Dwarves of
Wargar. Taking himself from the celebrations; Zorreau returned to the
sanctuary of the Council Chambers and rested at the head of the table. His
absence didn't go unnoticed for long, the familiar presence of Crelius
Atennim silently entered the Chambers and ghosted across to his own chair.
The victory would turn to be hollow in the long term, but this is the shot
in the arm Keep morale required.

'Well done, Dark Lord. A victory upon the board. '

A short nod was All Zorreau offered in response, his hand rubbing
thoughtfully at his goatee. 'We shall let the men celebrate this night; but
we have to push on with our endeavours. Namely, Dame Gunn.

'I am in agreement, the Apostate does sterling work within her weakened
state, more so than some of His own keep.
' Crelius responded, also deep in

Resting his arms upon the grand meeting table, Zorreau glanced around at the
empty seats with a frown setting upon his features. 'The lack of Eraden or
Telthian to guide will have hindered her progress, the lack of Council as a
whole is hindering progress.

Celebrations continued to echo from down the hallways. Silence had dropped
and lingered over the pair, both consumed within their own thoughts.
Potential scenarios played through the mind of the Dark Lord, each ending
with another frown etching across his face. Not good enough.

'There is one option... ' began Crelius, waiting for Zorreau's attention.

'Let me hear it, Crelius'

'We descend into Darkness. We take the Apostate into the Reliaquary. '
announced the Chancellor, his face remained plain, waiting for a reaction or

'The Reliaquary? That place will kill her in such a weakened state. '
Zorreau continued, 'That has always been used for the fully-trained,
fully-prepared Knight to prove himself worthy of being one of God's chosen.

Crelius expression didn't change, the stalwart remained firmly behind his
thought process. Shifting slightly within his chair to lean forward,
Crelius spoke once more 'We must do something, Zorreau. We must allow the
Apostate to sink or swim. We will guide her through the Reliaquary and she
will prove her worth to God.

Leaning back into his chair, Zorreau focused his gaze upon his
brother-in-arms. Zorreau had trusted his comrade thus far, in All matters,
but this seemed to risky. Most are lucky to return with their own lives,
let alone save another.

'Speak with her. It must be her choice... '

A deft nod was the response and Crelius was gone.

Writer: Fyahy'll

Date Wed Oct 12 11:08:15 2016

To All shadow imm ( necrucifer rp )

Subject Trophies from Skull Keep pt 4

Fyahyll sat up in her saddle, peering at the wavering horizon from beneath
the protective cloth of her scarf. A fine coating of sand had already coated
everything. Such is the way when traveling the desert.

Not quite midday, she wasnt far from Storm Keep. The commotion and
shelter of the city left far behind, her destination and future lay just ahead.
With a gentle nudge, she prodded her mount forward.

The ride had given her time to reflect. The fever and pain opened doors and
windows within her mind. They allowed her thoughts to drift and approach
things from different angles. An almost delirious focus on the path before her
gave her purpose, strength.

The Dark Father would see her, heal her, and give her the chance to prove
herself worthy. Fyahyll grimaced as the saddle jarred slightly with the
uneven terrain, bring her back to reality. She would prove her worth or die in
the effort.

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Wed Oct 12 16:37:22 2016

To All Zola Vulgrim ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject His first dark sermon

Kahlyn heard the call of the priest Vulgrim asking the world if anyone
wanted to know more of the Dark Father Necrucifer and so he answered.

He had never heard any of the tenets of Necrucifer and found himself
reaffirming he had made the right decision to turn to darkness. There was
honor in Darkness that he had never heard of. There was unity, and never
once had he been treated as a less than.

At the end of the sermon, he was given The Book of Evil, which he read
through from cover to cover while at the obsidian altar and he was inspired.
His resolve in his change of faith unfaltered, he continued his prayers.

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Wed Oct 12 17:57:28 2016

To All Zola Vulgrim Azheri( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject His first dark sermon 2

Azheri entered the obsidian altar moments after Vulgrim had introduced
himself to Kahlyn. Kahlyn glanced over with a smile, remembering how in the
past he had stood on a pedastool and tried to fault Azheri for leaving the
light. He had never understood why until his own awakening. During the
sermon he noticed Azheri was very focused, moreso than he had ever seen him.
He rarely spoke, but when he did it was in confirmation. Then he asked
about the chosen. Vulgrim and Azheri spoke a long while on what it meant to
be chosen and after, Azheri seemed even more driven. Kahlyn tried to
remember a time when even one person was so moved during a sermon of the
light and could not remember one time. Kahlyn smiled.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Wed Oct 12 19:38:06 2016

To All Kreel Tayira ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject The Garden of Death

Kahlyn felt the familiar whoosh of the magic portal as he magically
transitioned from Arkane to Abaddon and for a brief moment missed his own
magicks greatly. Kreel and his wife Tayira welcomed him at the Garden of
Death and what Kahlyn saw made his breath catch in his throat.

The gardens were alive and rotting at the same time and for the first time
in his life he saw a strange beauty in such. There was no sadness in the
decay, for he somehow knew that the gardens would survive and flourish out
of the rot. The dragon statue was masterfully created and he could not take
his eyes off it for the longest time.

Kahlyn spent time with Kreel as he scribed the codex. One person with the
tenets of All the dark gods so he could learn. He chatted with Tayira for a
time as well, learning that she once was of Austinian and had changed her
religion to a dark god as well after a similar awakening. He was inspired
again. After a wonderful visit he returned back to the Obsidian Altar and
back to his prayers.

Writer: Paxx
Date Wed Oct 12 21:14:00 2016

Writer: Cassidy
Date Thu Oct 13 07:57:22 2016

To All New_Thalos (Imm RP)

Subject Still Waiting....

She sighed as she sat on a crate at the harbor, staring out at the sea,
the sun beginning to rise. Another missive sent throughout the Realm,
touching every possible corner of the world. Holding on to threads of hope,
of possibility, of wishing it would be answered, that some word would reach
her, that a ship would be spotted in the horizon and he would be on it. He
was the best at the wheel, knew his way in the waters like a fish, there was
a reason why he was the Admiral. So... Where was he? Why hadn't he
returned? She had seen him some months before she had given birth to their
daughter, had received messages from him after her birth, but had never seen
him again. He's shop had closed down, his shopkeeper Felix had left to find
work elsewhere.

No one had heard word from him, but everyone hoped and prayed for his
return. She sighs again as she looks around at the busy harbor, she had
come there so many times to sit and watch the sea whenever her daughter
slept or attended school, and when she didn't need to attend to her many
duties of Headmaster and Jaddah of Nall Aruh. She walked her land and spoke
with the many citizens that were her responsibility, saw to the care of
crops and livestock, and often visited the stables to check on the prized
horses Nall Aruh was known for.

Day after day went much the same way in routines, but her heart grew heavy
and uncertain with doubts just a little more, and every time she would cast
such thoughts away, 'He will return, he has to. ' she would tell herself
firmly, but some times the doubts would resurface 'Will he return? Is he
alive? Is he well? Did he find someone else? Will he return?
' The words
circled in her mind, like a vicious snake biting it's tail. She shifts on
the crate and rises to her feet, the sun up in this clear and bright
morning, it was time to return to the Manor and see to the day's duties, and
the bright beautiful smile of the five year old who was her life, her joy,
her everything.

Writer: Corron

Date Thu Oct 13 10:38:21 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 13 10:40:47 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 13 10:42:33 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 13 10:45:55 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 13 10:48:16 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 13 10:50:59 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 13 10:52:30 2016

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Thu Oct 13 12:41:17 2016

To All Zola Ashtiel ( Kantilles Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject Cupcake War, Interrupted

Kahlyn was watching a cupcake war happen when he heard Ashtiel's voice
calling for him. At first he thought he was hearing things out of the
commotion of the cupcake war, until he realized someone afar was trying to
speak with him. He let his mind return the greeting and then excused
himself from the impending doom of frosting.

Kahlyn met Ashtiel several steps north of Arkane's northern gate and saw
her. Ashtiel had a book for him she wanted him to read. She explained she
was no priest and he was to make his decision of faith on his own but if she
could nudge him, then she had done her duty.

Kahlyn returned to the cupcake war, keeping the book close to him, wondering
what dark god would the book be about, she had never stated and he had never
asked. After everyone went to slumber he returned to the Obsidian Altar to
finally read the book, hoping it was a book about Lord Dragoth.

After hours of reading, he closed the book with a slight tilt of his head,
powerful words, he thought to himself. The book was about Necrucifer with
some writings from His followers and it was quite the interesting read.
Kahlyn put the book inside a robe and continued his prayers to Lord Dragoth.

Writer: Paxx
Date Thu Oct 13 13:26:35 2016

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Thu Oct 13 18:00:44 2016

To All Zola Vyasa ( Dragoth Kantilles imm rp religion )

Subject Step by Step

Kahlyn was still searching for a temple of Dragoth when he realized the
Count of Abaddon, Vyasa, was awake. He decided to chat with Vyasa for a bit
and Vyasa brought to his attention that he knew where a temple of Dragoth
was. Kahlyn had never seen such a temple and though the route was almost
too close to Verminasia for his comfort, he found himself in a beautifully
decayed temple of the dark god he was to follow. He smiled broadly and
inhaled the scent of decay deeply, enjoying the fragrance.

The two talked for a while, Kahlyn answering why, out of All the dark gods,
would he favor Lord Dragoth. Kahlyn smiled when he answered the question.
He considered Lady Drakkara but only to spite Kantilles-not enough reason to
pray to her. He would not be half hearted about such a decision. No, he
ultimately chose Lord Dragoth because he would follow the direct opposite of
the light: Decay, disease. He remembered one of the tenets he was learning:
--Look not to the heavens, ye who would follow me, look to the earth. My
domain is your own, not ethereal, not untouchable. -- He and his will were
all around and Kahlyn was already begining to understand and feel such a

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Fri Oct 14 01:22:33 2016

To All Zola Vershae ( Dragoth Kantilles imm rp religion )

Subject The Visit of Vershae

Kahlyn's prayers were interrupted by someone invisible looking about the
Temple of Dragoth and for a moment he tried to cast detect invisible before
he realized he had no access to magic. In less than a moment, he was
staring up at Vershae. He stood and tipped his head in respect to the Giant
Ogre. Then the conversation began.

Throughout the conversation, Kahlyn realized a great many things, much to
his embarrassment. Why was he holed up in a Temple instead of praising and
walking through life? Why had he not realized that devotion is merely a
word if he did not give his life to Lord Dragoth? For once in his life,
Kahlyn would listen intently and not speak, but learn. He had a great many
things to do and holing up in a temple never to see a soul was not what Lord
Dragoth deserved. He would have to do better... And he would.

Writer: Nehteak
Date Fri Oct 14 12:33:53 2016

To All Shalonesti RP

Subject Return of the Cannibelf.

"Well well, look who we have here." Lanac Sha'falas, unwavering
bladesinger of the Shalonesti woods, beamed widely with arms folded.

"It seems I cannot sneak past you, never could, never will." Nehteak

Four generations of elves had passed since the last time this elf had walked
the woods. He had left for reasons unknown, leaving rumours amongst the
fray for a little while speculating his absence and intent. It is unknown
to what extent he was missed, aside from the sniffing, which was apparently
all the rage in Algoron then. Now aged and with a slightly more stern
demeanour, he makes a quiet entry through the path of the Vallens.

"The warden of All Shalonesti surely knows his brothers." Lanac grinned.
Unfolding and stretching his arms out, he approached the plainly clothed
elf. "Welcome home, Cannibelf".

Nehteak stepped forward to receive Lanac's embrace. It had been a long
time, and memories of his youth in the Vallens flowed through his mind.
Most vivid of All were his fellow elves, most of whom departed with him.
His heart ached for them, not knowing their whereabouts or what they were
up to. In this short time of reconnaissance about the changed lands of
Algoron, he had seen much to strike fear for their safety, too.

"Thank you, Lanac. I've missed you dearly, too." Nehteak replied.

A few moments of silence passed, and now at arm's length, Lanac's
chainmailed hand upon his shoulder, Nehteak frowned. "Have you seen the

Lanac's face straightened. "You speak of the then-young elves who roamed
the fray with you?"

Nehteak nodded. A surge of emotions welled up as tears in his eyes, a huge
representation of brotherly affection that would move even an aged elf's
heart. "Drondon, Ronilas, Talyariel, Saio, Hyru, Vanil - the bunch of them,
and more."

The bladesinger heaved a sigh. "Yes, I remember them. They were as
energetic as you were, tossing dwarven heads as you strolled from the bind
to greet me, riddled with All kinds of etching and wounds and gores of
battle. No, they haven't been around."

A long pause followed. The face of the eldritch turned downcast, as his
grip upon his staff tightened.

"Then I must search for them."

Lanac looked on, allowing the returning elf to continue.

"The old guard of Shalonesti shall rise again." Whispered the Cannibelf, as
his frown gave way to a cunning grin.

Writer: Vaerus
Date Fri Oct 14 16:54:03 2016

To All Chaos Erebaal Her (Imm rp) Malachive

Subject Fractured

'Vaerus..... Vaerus...... VAERUS! '

That voice.

He knew that voice.

Knew who it belonged to. Knew it better than even his own. Knew he
shouldn't be hearing it here. It was her voice. But why was he hearing it
now? More importantly, how? It wasn't from outside. Wasn't in the manner
people privately communicated with one another. No. It was here.

Within the Warp.

How though? He knew from experience that it was impossible to break in.
Hell, he himself had tried on countless occasions. He had always been the
better of the two at getting into where they shouldn't be. Yet...

'Love? Are you still mad at me? '

Again, her voice. Echoing off the walls and other objects within. Maybe
while he was away... Yes. That was it. Had to be. The Wordbearer must
have granted her entry. That made perfect sense. It must've been recent
too. Not enough time for the notice to have reached him. Or maybe it was a
surprise? A reward? For All he had been doing. Yes! Of course! She and
Erebaal wanted to surprise him! Wanted to reward him!

'VAERUS!!! Why aren't you saying anything??! You ARE still mad! I knew

Shaken from his reverie he calls out her name. Listens to it bounce around
the chamber and split off down the halls. '.. My dear. I was never mad at
you. Could never be mad at you... When did you arrive? And where are you
hiding? Could it be that you want me to look for you? Want me to find you?

Awaiting her response, he closes his eyes, tuning his sense of hearing to
pinpoint her by sound. Hoping more so to catch even the faintest hint of
her scent. Already imagining what he'd do to her. What she would do to

'You and your games, love.. ' She chides, teasing him and being playful as

'I'm right here! '

He feels the impact, a familiar one, on his left arm. Just below the
shoulder. The same spot she's punched him for as long as he could remember.
It was always a prelude. Always the start of something else. Another sort
of "game" that would leave him marked by more than just the already forming
bruise. Near to salivating with hunger, he breathes deep to take in her

His eyes open to look upon her.

To gaze upon her.

To feast upon her.


Nothing but an empty room

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Fri Oct 14 19:22:31 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Kantilles imm rp religion )

Subject A Priest of Lord Dragoth

Kahlyn was walking to get food, trying to decide what exactly he was
hungry for, when he heard the voice. By the grace of Lord Dragoth, the
missive he sent to Deacon Kefkamasu was delivered! Kahlyn was instructed to
meet at the Temple of Dragoth and he set off, immediately, ignoring his

Kahlyn arrived first and was filled with anticipation when he saw the tall
figure walk slowly into the temple. They had their pleasantries and then
Kahlyn was asked why Lord Dragoth. Kahlyn gave his answer and smiled
pensively. He had explained this to many people, as of late, but never to a
priest of Lord Dragoth-and for a short moment wondered if it was enough.
They continued to talk for a longer bit and again, Kahlyn merely listened
and learnt from the Deacon.

Kefkamasu told Kahlyn he would accept Kahlyn if Lord Dragoth would accept
him. He gave kahlyn a bunch of worms, stating it was his way of accepting
him, and he welcomed the new maggot to the swarm. Kefkamasu asked Kahlyn to
leave him be so he could pray to the Father of the swarm. Kahlyn nodded
once and thanked the Deacon gratefully before making his way back to Arkane.

Writer: Anathaelynn
Date Fri Oct 14 23:34:03 2016

Writer: Damerus
Date Sat Oct 15 03:47:10 2016

To All Mercerion Zorreau ( Imm RP Religion Nadrik )

Subject On the Hunt

'No. This is MY battle. I do not want anyone else fighting my battles
for me.

The temple chamber was quiet save for the sound of rushing water coming from
the forest just beyond its entrance doors. Natural light filtered in
through the chamber's windows, which were decorated in beautiful stained
glass. Evenly dispersed through the chamber were two columns of tall
pillars, row after row upon which the images made from the stained glass
were broken apart. Spaced evenly between each row of pillars were pews,
sturdy in their construction and made of polished maple.

Upon one of those pews sat a solitary figure, his deep blue eyes staring
intently up at the altar set at the front of the chamber. His thought were
many, and the pensive expression on his face reflected that reality. He has
set himself a task and things had progressed smoothly the first few days
after determining it, but things had slowed and he wasn't sure of what else
he could do save to be patient and wait. That was the difficult part, the
waiting. He could not stop his mind from imagining anything and everything
it could.

'I'm being blunt and I apologize for it, but that is vengeance, my friend.

'That place... Is not somewhere you can go with an intent that is impure,
for it will magnify the sin, and wholly corrupt you.

His mind kept coming back to those words, spoken to him not long ago now.
Damerus reached down and lifted his canteen from its place at his belt,
carefully removed the lid, lifted it to his lips then took a deep drink of
the cool, clean water contained within. As he withdrew his canteen, a
little water dribbled down his cheek. He quickly wiped his cheek with the
back of his hand, put the lid back on his canteen and set it aside, then

'Hah, had you of visited the Void you would wish its location was lost. '

Set in a depression upon the altar in front of Damerus burned the eternal
flame, as pure white as the snow-capped peaks of Icewall. Its tongues of
fire licked at the air around it as they danced and undulated, almost as if
they were actually taking in that air the same way a normal fire might.
There was nothing sinful about those flames, nobody would question their
purity should someone reach a hand out to them and find out they could, and
would, burn flesh. That was never the case with people though. No matter
how much you proved, there was still more that needed proving. All around
him the servants of the light were falling to darkness, yet still his
commitment was being questioned.

'No one will outlast me my friend. I promise you that. Only death will
truly separate me from Our Lord.

Damerus cupped his hands together and brought them up to his chin. Closing
his eyes, he began to pray. All he could think to do now was to wait. He
had already made one thing clear.

He'd find a way into the Void. No matter what.

Writer: Fyahy'll

Date Sat Oct 15 05:38:56 2016

To All Shadow IMM ( RP Necrucifer )

Subject Vigil

Fyahyll looked up at the ominous structure before. A monument to Prophecy
and the staging point for the domination of Algoron. Storm Keep stood as a
symbol of perseverance. The history of this monument and its occupants was
riddled with adversity, challenge, broken and forged anew. Not an antiquated
assumption of righteousness, but a single minded focus on one objective
tested and tried over and over.

And now here she stood, before this hallowed ground which had represented
the very antithesis of her life before. Now awoken she sought forgiveness,
acceptance and the opportunity to make things right.

Her hand travelled to the satchel at her side, finding comfort in the bulky
occupant within. The Book of Evil the title itself brought a slight smile to
the corner of her mouth, a rare visitor in recent times. Too often had men
concerned themselves with labeling things as good or evil and then aligning
themselves accordingly. There was only God.

The simplicity and completeness of that thought served to harden her resolve.
Fyahylls vigil had begun. The desert sands would be her home until that
quiet and imposing home of salvation opened its doors to her.

Wincing as she took a seat in the blowing sand, she sought out the book in her
satchel and began reading.

Writer: Paxx
Date Sat Oct 15 18:09:22 2016

Writer: Anathaelynn
Date Sat Oct 15 21:12:15 2016

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sun Oct 16 02:25:38 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu Yaark ( Dragoth imm rp religion )

Subject Praises of Lord Dragoth

In Kahlyn's weakness, he had never publicly sang of Lord Dragoth's
praises until he remembered a Tenet: (I AM HE) WHO CULLS THE WEAK, WHO
VALIDATES THE STRONG. He would not be culled, he would be validated and
thus he shouted for the world to hear, 'Prases to Lord Dragoth', to which
Azheri repeated as well. Then the sound of ignorance filled the world from
another, spouting 'youz praisez is weak and youz faithz as wellz'. He
opened his mouth to respond to such idiocy and then closed it. I shall not
give them reason to continue, for I know the truth. Lord Dragoth is not
weak, he culls the weak and at one point All feel his hand, he thought to

So he would not stop his praises and he would not be silent.

Writer: Elijah
Date Sun Oct 16 08:49:42 2016

Writer: Elijah
Date Sun Oct 16 08:49:55 2016

Writer: Elijah
Date Sun Oct 16 08:49:59 2016

Writer: Elijah
Date Sun Oct 16 08:50:21 2016

Writer: Keinan
Date Sun Oct 16 16:56:44 2016

Writer: Keinan
Date Sun Oct 16 17:00:40 2016

Writer: Catroina
Date Sun Oct 16 21:40:30 2016

Writer: Catroina
Date Sun Oct 16 21:41:29 2016

Writer: Thasgerd
Date Sun Oct 16 21:51:48 2016

Writer: Paxx
Date Sun Oct 16 22:34:34 2016

Writer: Laleina
Date Tue Oct 18 08:56:49 2016

To All Immortal Roleplay Storyline ( Necrucifer )

Subject An Eve of Preaching

Laleina arrived in Arkane excited about the nights plans, it had been a
while since she thought of preaching and looked forward to the encounters.
She and Vulgrim reached the center of town and they called upon any who had
questions on the Master and slowly people appeared. She had an especially
long talk with a child that was a bit saddened over those of the light
turning him away.

Some were receptive and others a bit stubborn or impatient but she took her
time to explain to them the Master's will and ways. It was quite a good
night and many questions were answered as well as friendships forged in the
nights of adversity.

She smiled to Vulgrim as the night was coming to a close, "I truly enjoyed
bringing His word to; Algoron.
" She continued her walk towards home with
her beloved husband at her side. Damian greeted her at the door, as usual,
with his tail wagging at his devoted master. She scratched the wolf between
the ears before heading up the stairs.

Writer: Fyahy'll
Date Tue Oct 18 16:39:44 2016

To All Shadow IMM ( Necrucifer RP )

Subject Vigil pt 2

Thunder rolled across the darkened horizon. The storm clouds darkening the
afternoon like an artificial night. A welcome respite to the normal heat, large
heavy droplets pelted the barren ground with heavy audible thuds.

From her seated position, Fyahyll looked up into the sky watching the
individual raindrops streak downward to their inevitable collision with the
ground. The rain fell upon her sunburnt face, stinging slightly but alleviating
the the oppressive temperature. Her parched lips parted slightly to allow the
stray drop into her mouth.

Her delirious and fevered eyes searched the skies for some sign, some hope. Her
prayers fell on deaf ears. Her sins against the Dark Father too great. She was
forsaken and it appeared that no amount of submission would satisfy.

Salted rivulets of tears mixed with the rain on her faces. She screamed her
frustration at the dark clouds and no one heard.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Tue Oct 18 16:54:34 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu Elrie (Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject Upon reading a missive...

Kahlyn finished reading Elrie's missive to the world about the tenets of
Lord Dragoth before putting the parchment into the flames of the candle in
front of him. Some things never change, he still loves to hear himself in
any format, be it voice or the written word. Once again, the light shows
the arrogance of incomplete knowledge, the pride laced with venomous,
ignorant speech. He dipped his quill into the inkwell and with a sly smile,
began writing a response.

Writer: Benthic
Date Tue Oct 18 22:00:30 2016

To All ( IMM RP Taliena Mencius )

Subject An Awakening

Benthic awoke after a long slumber of pondering. Awoken to the sound of
the one he calls "Brother," Kahlyn. It seemed like a fated day upon his
awakening, as Benthic had been seeking Kahlyn for a time and seemed to have
missed him every time. After much catching up, Kahlyn asked a simple
question. "Are you not tired, Brother?

After All the years of peoples resentment, hostility, and loathing of him.
He was truly tired, so his response was a simple, "Yes. "

After so many years of his life, trying to repent, trying to seek the
approval of others, to prove himself that he was not the man from past...
Tired. Tired of All the hoops he had to jump through, tired of All the
stares, All the mistrust, All the .... Light.

Kahlyn said something very simple and yet powerful to Benthic, "Embrace
yourself, Brother.
" So Benthic did just that. Embraced the one thing he
fought so hard to keep buried and at bay. The Rage. The transformation was
quite hostile as it usually was, a bit of a squabble between two brothers
before things calmed down. After such, the two agreed and then slumbered
until the next meeting

Writer: Benthic

Date Tue Oct 18 22:16:13 2016

To All Elrei ( Imm RP Taliena Mencius )

Subject Idiocy and Blindness

Benthic opens the missive from Elrei regarding Whispers of the Heart, his
eyes rolling and a chuckle rumbling. He reads the missive quickly yet
thoroughly before crumbling it up in a ball and channeling lightning through
his hand. He empties his hand to the floor as the missive erupts into
flames and disintegrates.

What Elrei forgets about Love is thus: Love is blind.

In that blindness, Love can be a poison. Consider this, a man loves a woman
so harshly that no one can have her so he slays her... Or he beats her and
she still stays with him. Out of Love.

Writer: Crelius
Date Tue Oct 18 22:45:11 2016

To All Necrucifer Shadow ( IMM RP )

Subject -=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue Part 2)

His gaze had been affixed on the small shadow of an essence that harrowed
itself upon the desert sands for hours. From atop his horse he could see
clearly the supplicant writhing in some sort of, rejected anguish. Crelius
noted the storm in the sky, rare indeed within these territories. With the
pelting of precious rain the wasteful sands gobbled them up like a rare
delicacy. The winds blew, and with that the sands blew with them.

"Hrmmmmm," Crelius muttered to himself as he considered the subject at a
distance. Could this one truly survive the trial of the depths? None
before his own knights have ever survived such an endeavor.

As he considered a stark claw of lightning rippled through the upward
grey-scape with a foretelling cadence.

Through his ashen hood the knight clenched his jaw at the sight of the
strike and coming storm. He began to gallop.

Many things had changed over the years. His purpose, his existence, had
been snuffed back into being for a single purpose. His tether to a place
known as the Reliquary was his object to bear. This though. This still
would be a thing that he had never considered.

The winds howled wildly over the Ivory wastes as Crelius approached the
feeble form of a knight bereft of a place. Approaching her from behind, he
stopped his steed aloft her and stirred it with a whinny. Before she could
perceive his presence he spoke.

"This is no place to travel unguided. Legend beholds that if thirst does
not take you, then the Wyverns sting, or the sands themselves shall," the
old knight spoke.

Quickly her glance turned upwards upon him, revealing ravaged and harsh
features. Tears wept from her windswept eyes not unlike the disarray of her

Crelius looked down. The howling winds whipping the frails of his robed
countenance as he spoke.

"If it is acceptance you seek, youve merely had a taste of what you will
endure," Crelius reached beneath the fold of his robe, producing a tied
scroll. He considered its implications for a moment.

He tossed it down towards the fallen paladin, who reached towards it in some
desperation. Grasping it she clenched her jaw and gazed up towards the
mounted Shadowknight in resilience.

Crelius did not regard her but reared his horse and rode back into the sand
storm, abandoning Fyahyll to the tempest.

Writer: Benthic

Date Tue Oct 18 23:09:22 2016

To All ( IMM RP Taliena Mencius )

Subject An Incessant Need Need

Knelt in prayer for what seems like days in the Lords Temple. The heat,
beating down relentlessly, and a cold sweat dripping down his face. The
hottest place, he is knelt, at the center of the room.

He suddenly opens his eyes, always blood shot now. With no control or
guidance he lets the full flow of the rage flow through him. He spins
quickly to turn toward his companion of what seems forever, Nessy. He rears
a leg back and kicks the horse in the leg, forcing backwards in with a wet
snap. The horse whines in pain and in a fluid motion, strikes true at the
other leg severing tendons. He stands slowly as the horse whines, his back
turned, hearing the thud of the falling over.

With his back turned he says "An honorable man would put you out of your
misery. Darkness Bless.

He turn and walks over to kneel next to the chargers head, placing hands at
opposite sides of its head before quickly snapping its neck.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Tue Oct 18 23:52:13 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu (Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject A Culling

Kahlyn had taken to walking, now that he was with no magic. Slowly he
remembered All the places he used to explore as a child on Althainia. He
took turns meditating, praying, and writing in his journal while marveling
in the sunshine.

In one of his robes, he carried an assortment of picnic foods. He passed a
small clearing filled with five small houses and his lips curled into a
smile. What have we here? He thought to himself. He pulled out a map
and looked it over, realizing what he had found was not a city, nor town
found on any map. This shall be perfect.

Kahlyn walked through the clearing and smiled warmly at All the adults in
the immediate area, giving out bread and cheeses and cold cuts to them all,
bidding them a fond day. At each of the houses, there was a sign of one of
the gods of light and Kahlyn made sure he visited each house, never leaving
one without donating food of some kind. None of the houses had children,
which relieved Kahlyn, for he would not do harm to those not of the adult

He walked halfway down the hill and looked back up grinning. They were so
happy to get such simple food. They were so happy, not knowing their fate
had been sealed once their little clearing was in his sights. Why choose
them? They were cut off from the rest of the world, they were weak. Lord
Dragoth culls the weak, and through Kahlyn's hand, His will had been done.
After they had eaten the poisoned food and died in fits of screams, Kahlyn
grinned and nodded, "Their bodies will rot for a long time, my gift to Lord

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Oct 19 00:15:22 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Wed Oct 19 00:17:08 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Wed Oct 19 00:18:49 2016

Writer: Vaerus
Date Wed Oct 19 01:14:19 2016

To All Chaos Erebaal Her (Imm rp) Malachive

Subject Succumbing to cruelty

He is here. I keep my posture and gait the same. Regardless, I know. I
can sense it. Can feel it. Can feel him...

There is no perceptible change to her movements. Regardless, he knows. She
can sense him. He can feel it. Can feel her...

I take care that I don't let on. Don't give away that I know. I could
always sense it somehow. We were ever linked, he and I. Always connected.
Each of us a smoldering inferno at either end of the same candle. For all
his skill at remaining hidden, I always could tell whenever he was near.
Even if I was unable to tell where he was exactly. Still, I knew he was
close. I could feel his hunger...

Vaerus watches her from nearby. Obsfucated by the shadows cast, he is
invisible to All but the most acute of eyes. So long as he remains
motionless. She draws closer with each silent step. With each bated breath
he takes. Close. So close. Every predatory nerve electric within him.
Alive with excitement. Anticipation. Hunger...

I can feel his gaze. Feel his eyes traversing the length and breadth of my
body. Feel him studying me. My every movement. He is stalking me. Toying
with me. Playing with me. Wanting me... Needing me... To make a mistake.
To slip up and leave myself exposed. To leave an opening. Watching.

She was so close to him now. So very close. He could discern the rise and
fall of her breast. Could hear her breathing. Closer and closer. She was
almost in range. Almost within reach. Just a few more steps. A few more
torturous feet. He catches her scent now. It would be mere seconds. He
just had to endure a bit longer. Had to stay still. Had to remain

Writer: Benthic
Date Wed Oct 19 02:19:40 2016

To All ( IMM RP Taliena Mencius )

Subject A Pathetic Attempt

Benthic's ears perk up at the sound of a warhorse and the jingle of
chainmail. He remains knelt in prayer as Kahlyn walks in. Benthic throws a
knife at the approaching company, which Kahlyn deftly dodges saying, "You
are gonna have to do better than that.

Benthic smirks and asks "Did you hear the jingle.? Kahlyn shakes his head.
Eethan, crusader of the Lance strides through the door with a deep frown on
his face. It seemed Kahlyn had seen this Knight before as he said, "You
. With a simple response in return, Kahlyn left the room to the
Knight and Benthic.

Benthic unsheathed his sword in preparation for a fight which was quelled
when the Knight said "`Sheath thine sword, I am not here to kill you
" So he did, reluctantly

This Knight had come to confront Benthic for disowning Taliena. The same
Knight that came to Kahlyn.

How pathetic

The Knight asked why, Benthic returned an answer.

"The Light is not what "Light" should be. Fractured, hateful, jealouse,
honorless, Hypocrits."

The only claim this Knight mentioned is that the Light are mortals. That is
no excuse when those gods and godesses of Light allow such things.

Benthic persisted. In the end, his words fell on deaf ears per the usual
with the Light. They are All and unhindered. Yet, in his mind, that is
exactly why the Light is losing yet another one of their fold.

Writer: Zola

Date Wed Oct 19 03:35:04 2016

To All Kahlyn Kefkamasau Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale Dragoth

Subject X A Culling X

As dusk settled on the horizon, a shadowy figure slipped into the quiet
little hamlet, observing the comforts of home. The food at the table had
long since grown cold, as had the bodies on the floor, splain out in a
variety of uncomfortable poses. Mouths filled with foam left little down
how they had died. Poison.

Nodding thoughtfully to himself, Zola stepped inside to observe Kahlyn's
work, noting as he did the absence of children amongst the bodies.

How very interesting, he mused quietly.

Satisfied with what he had found, he swept from the house like the spectre
of death itself, leaving behind the bodies to rot until their neighbors
would inevitably discover them. He would not interfere with Dragoth's
faithful. No, they were united in their purpose.

Darkness descended on the hamlets as night fell.

Writer: Fyahy'll

Date Wed Oct 19 06:17:00 2016

To All Shadow Crelius Zorreau IMM ( Necrucifer RP )

Subject -=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue Part 3)

"This is no place to travel unguided. Legend beholds that if thirst does
not take you, then the Wyverns sting, or the sands themselves shall,"

Immune to surprise, Fyahyll turned to face the somber voice. Angry to be
disturbed in such a vulnerable state, she squinted against the driven rain and
sand. A dark mounted figure towered over her. An absence of light, the dark
silhouette was inconstant as if some crackling figure made of void.

If it is acceptance you seek, youve merely had a taste of what you will endure

A short flickering movement and a scroll bounced and rolled over the wet
sand towards her. Fyahyll reached desperately for the tightly bound cylinder,
grasping it tightly with both hands before looking back up. the void figure
reared its mount and disappeared as quickly as it had come. The thumping of
galloping hooves was quickly lost in the cacophony of rain striking hard and
wet packed sand.

Pulling her cloak around her, holding the scroll tightly within, she resumed
her vigil. There would be time to read once the storm passed.

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Oct 19 23:08:42 2016

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Thu Oct 20 04:33:42 2016

Writer: Laniath
Date Thu Oct 20 08:00:00 2016

To All Immortal Storyline Religion ( Taliena )

Subject A Day of Deep Meditation

Lani had spent the days walking about and observing the ways people could
show love to one another. People helping people yet in Althainia she
wondered why such a hatred towards those of the darkness? Why turn many
away for whom they wish to serve? Love is love and transcends All pantheons
for even in the darkness one can find love.

Laniath had a heart full of love, even for those who were not of the light.
When one wishes to join a war, one must leave their animosities aside and
open their hands to what they will encounter. The word of a friend turning
to darkness reached her and, although All others disowned him and hated him,
she felt nothing but love and concern for her friend.

She sat in deep thought wondering why so much hate is spread from those who
follow the light. One cannot win a heart over if you offer them the same
attitude you expect from evil. She had gotten to work with a gentleman who
followed the darkness yet he was kind, caring, and respectful of her being
of the light.

How can anyone speak of love with hatred in their heart, show honor when one
is shaming others, speak with respect to others without showing respect for
the other person, or even convert someone to the light by showing any
negative attributes.

Taliena is love and love knows no boundaries. She had made her decision,
one accepts her with an open and honest love, darkness or light, she will
show the same love towards all. Lady Taliena will see her as thorn possibly
but she will shine with love as Lady Taliena would expect from her. She
walked into Her Temple with a new outlook, a life of true love.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Thu Oct 20 13:56:30 2016

To All ( Dragoth Imm Rp Religion )

Subject Fw: A Questioning

| -----Original Message-----
| From: Kahlyn
| To: Narsh Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Imm RP Religion )
| Subject: A Questioning
| Date: Thu Oct 20 04:33:42 2016

Kahlyn was out wandering and found himself trapped in quicksand and then
in an infernal room beneath it. With no magic and no way to return back to
his home city, he waited. Luckily Zola found him and was able to get him
safely home. As he was walking back to his newly favored Grayclaw's
Srumptious Delights, he nodded at a passing Yinn. He then heard the voice
in his head a few moments later:

".. Hrn. Wait. Are you the one constantly gossiping of Dragoth?"

Kahlyn responded with a simple yes.

The Yinn had questions so they decided to meet and discuss them face to
face. After the normal pleasantries, Kahlyn found the Yinn's name to be
Narsh of the Marauders... And then came the question of why follow a god of
pestilence, what could it offer a person?

Kahlyn went over a few of Lord Dragoth's tenets, explaining to the best of
his ability how He brings forth life from death, who culls the weak and
validates the strong. He explained if a person survived a poisoning, they
could possibly be imune to that poison in the future, they were made
stronger, the same with disease. They spoke a bit longer and Narsh simply

"A more reasonable answer than I would've thought. I was sincere when I
said I didn't understand why you would follow such a God."

Kahlyn replied with "It is not for many and always for those whom see His

Narsh said, "I will admit I was expecting some hint of lunacy. I've noticed
a certain trend of.. Hrn.. Sanity.. Among those who chose to follow the
dark gods, however."

Kahlyn smiled at this with a nod. They parted ways and Kahlyn called him
back after a few moments, presenting Narsh with the Tenets of Dragoth so he
could always remember.

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 20 22:54:17 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 20 22:56:18 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Sat Oct 22 15:31:13 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Sat Oct 22 15:34:56 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Sat Oct 22 15:38:55 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Sat Oct 22 15:41:33 2016

Writer: Gheirin
Date Sat Oct 22 19:51:48 2016

Writer: Grodzgol
Date Sun Oct 23 11:36:21 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Sun Oct 23 17:40:32 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Sun Oct 23 17:43:24 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Sun Oct 23 17:47:56 2016

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sun Oct 23 21:14:30 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject The Second Culling

Kahlyn was out walking when he came upon a four tents in the wilderness.
He watched the movements and listened to the voices, learning that they were
traveling to a healer. His ears perked as he listened to the worried

Kahlyn made his way into the central area of the tents with a smile and
asked who was in charge, dipping his head in greetings. He was ushered to
an elderly man who greeted Kahlyn in fits of coughing.

"You are quite ill, I see," Kahlyn remarked. "And headed for a healer, I
have heard."

The elderly man nodded, warily. "I do not need anyone to offer me a dark
gift to heal me. I've heard of evil coming and offering such a thing. I am
not even close to death's door.

Kahlyn smirked before responding, "I am not here to offer a healing, that
was never on the table. I am here only because I was offering meats,
cheeses and breads to those whom harbor you. Everyone has enjoyed my

There was a rustling of the tent fabric behind Kahlyn. Kahlyn did not even
turn, for he knew what he would find.

The food he had given to everyone had been gathered from a hut he had found
where All within had died from some kind of disease-He had gathered up the
food and decided to use it the first chance he got, hoping that the disease
was still potent.

Kahlyn smiled, "I do not wish to give you a trade, a gift, nothing.
Everyone that was with you is either dead or shall be quite soon. Find your
healer now."

Writer: Ari'ella
Date Mon Oct 24 00:30:47 2016

To All (Imm RP)

Subject The Voyage (Part 1/2)

The woman watched as the children played, running through the snow and
swinging wooden swords, laughing and screaming as children often do. Among
them was her raven-haired four year old, swinging the small wooden sword her
father had gifted her for her birthday. No dolls, nor stuffed animals for
their little one, not when her father, the Viking, believed she should learn
to swing swords and handle knives as a toddler. Of course, Arienh MacLeod
didn't mind one bit, having been born and raised in Nordmaar, joining the
military as soon as she was of age, she understood better than anyone, how
important it was for them to learn to fight, and the benefit it was to be
versed in the use of weapons. She had even shown the child how to stand and
hold a sword, how to swing just right so the movement didn't leave you
unbalanced and open for attack.

Arienh watched her daughter play-fight against one of the Bruce's boys,
noting the girl's stance and swing of her wooden sword, the soft clack of
wood hitting against wood as the boy blocks the attack. Smiling, Arienh
lets her gaze roam over land and sky, always alert for the dangers that
could come from both venues. She spots a young Celtic man, wearing a blue
sash and Gunn tartan kilt from a distance, running towards her, her eyes
scan about once more before settling on the young man. He stops before her
and salutes her, then informs Arienh that the longship was ready for the
voyage. She thanks and dismisses him, collecting her daughter and makes her
way to the docks and the awaited trip they would make...

The child ran through the longship, enjoying the spray of water and the
breeze of the sea, ever since she was one year old, she'd been on her
father's longship for short trips along the coasts of Icewall, but this time
it was different, this wasn't just a small trip to patrol the coast, to get
her familiar with being on the sea. Her laughter carried in the wind, a
rival cry to the screech of the sea gulls, as Ari'ella ran over to her
father with arms outstretched to be picked up, knowing that she would have
the best view from his shoulders, and for a girl that age, it was as good as
any crow's nest. The tall Viking picked up his young daughter with a laugh
and set her on his shoulders to watch the sea as waves rolled by...

Writer: Ari'ella
Date Mon Oct 24 00:34:07 2016

To All (Imm RP)

Subject The Voyage (Part 2/2)

When night came, the child slept, the adults taking breaks as some rested
and others kept watch, the longship sailing over the water, small waves
swaying underneath, gently rocking the vessel. Lightning suddenly lit the
dark sky as waves swelled and crashed against the Viking vessel. From down
below something rumbled as fierce as any storm, bringing the sailors to
attention as they looked to the water and sky. The child stood with a
MacLeod tartan blanket held tightly in her arms, dark blue eyes going wide
as they stared up above, lightning lit the sky once more, reflecting off of
the dark scales of a sea dragon, jaw's dripping wet with saliva. Ari'ella
lets out a loud frightened shriek, drawing attention to her and the sea
monster. War cries issued loudly as a spear flies across the air, embedding
itself on the beast's shoulder and drawing it's gaze to the advancing Viking

Arienh rushed to her daughter's side, sweeping the child up into her arms
and running to the other side, her own sword in one hand. The child held to
her mother, face buried against the red sash on her shoulders, the war cries
of the Vikings and the piercing shrieks and growls of the sea dragon
bringing tremors to the child's young body. Sounds of battle came from the
starboard side of the ship as her mother set her on the small row boat that
always traveled with the longship, making Ari'ella lay down and cover her
face with her tartan blanket. Arienh looked back towards the fighting men,
wishing in part she could stand beside them and fight along her husband's
side, but knowing the survival of their child depended on getting her on
solid ground. Her Viking husband looks back and nods to her, his light blue
eyes urging her to go before he returns his attention to the beast.

The Celtic woman lowers the boat, raising her tartan skirt as she climbs in
and takes hold of the oars, the waves rocking the small vessel, lightning
streaking the sky in white lights. At first the loud crack seems to come
from the thunder itself, then the longship is seen breaking in half, the
massive tail of the sea dragon rising from the wreck to slam down again.
Vikings holding to the railing, some throwing themselves at the monster,
swords and axes swinging down. Arienh watches in terror, her arms rowing as
fast as she can, fear for her child urging her to act....

The fog came with the morning, drawn from the sea, upon the sand a small
figure lays unconscious with a tartan blanket held in her hands. Around her
the remains of a shipwreck, broken pieces of oars, pieces of planks, and the
head post of a Viking ship, no other life stirred nearby, the foam caressing
the shore leaving a trail of pink upon the sand before it is swept away.
The fisherman hesitates a moment, then quickly makes his way to the
unconscious child, checking her for signs of life, before picking her up
along with her blanket and making his way out of the shore...

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Mon Oct 24 18:36:07 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject The Second Culling Part 2

The elderly man stared at Kahlyn for a long moment, in fits of coughs.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

Kahlyn arched an eyebrow at such an interesting question, "Why? WHY? You
offered rudeness to me from the beginning, you offered mistrust, and your
ego made you think I was here to aid you. Why not?"

For a split second, Kahlyn had thoughts of driving his dagger into the man's
chest for his idiocy but instead, inhaled sharply and smiled darkly at the
elderly man. There was no getting through to the idiots of the world and he
had decided to stop trying, he would let actions be his voice. He walked
over to the man and knelt by his bed and pulled out the breads, cheeses, and
meats, piling them onto a large plate and placing it by the man's pillow.
He ignored the pleas and the questions, standing up and smiling down on the

"You are alone and shall never make it to the healer. I am merciful. You
can eat the food and die from the disease it cultivates or you can die

Kahlyn turned and walked to the entrance of the tent with a smirk. The
disease would not wait for ingestion, the man was doomed whether he chose to
be or not.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Tue Oct 25 00:20:33 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject The Fog

Kahlyn was bent in prayer when he smelled the acrid stench of
something--a new smell than what he was used to in the Temple of Dragoth.
He smiled darkly and inhaled deeply. Then the burning sensation sarted.
Kahlyn had felt pain before and this was rather painful, but he kept to his
prayers. He closed his eyes and remembered that pain is not everlasting, it
would let up and it did. When he opened his eyes he saw rain falling
outside and sensed it was a healing kind. He did not walk outside, he kept
the boils and blisters collecting on his wrists. These are from Lord
Dragoth. And he said his praises so the world could hear.

Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 25 05:10:39 2016

To All Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X Overlaying Shadows, Attenuating Veil X

When word reached him of the mist, Zola smiled behind his ever present
cowl and mask, pleased with the news. It was a sign. The closer they grew
to the hallowed Day of the Dead, the weaker the veil between the mortal
realm and the Void would become. The time when Fatale's influence was at
its absolute strongest. And when His servants and minions could freely slip
back and forth between realms. What had happened today would only be the
beginning. More was coming, he could feel it down to his very bones.

Which meant he had to be ready.

Swiftly displacing himself from his current location and moving back to his
underground project, Zola called on some skeletal servitors from Abaddon, on
loan from the Count Vyasa. These he directed to pick up and relocate the
cages he'd been overseeing for the past few months. Within, their contents
chittered and shrieked, angry at their rude awakening, clamoring for food as
hungry gnawed at their bellies.

"Nine hundred ninety-seven... nine hundred ninety-eight..." he counted,
comparing the numbers to earlier accounts. "... another seventeen lost."

Managable, if irritating. Zola would have to feed them more thoroughly once
they arrived at their final destination. He did not intend to see any less
take to the skies when the time came. Pausing one of the skeletal workers,
he gave new orders to slaughter some cows. The nearby farmlands of Abaddon
had such cattle. Their hearts, their blood, would suffice for his purposes.

Following the final cage out of the underground tunnel and into the
nighttime air, Zola peered around the swampland of Abaddon, taking in the
sights. Though it was well into night, the white and red moons cast a dual,
ominous glow across the cypress trees, making them look pale as corpses and
covered in foliage of blood red. An involuntary chill ran down Zola's spine
as he beheld a thick fog rising, but ushered his skeletal servants forward.
Caring nothing for the fog, able to see quite easily despite a lack of eyes,
they loaded up Zola's cages and transported them to the docks, for the next
phase of their journey.

Zola, however, paused by the gates of Abaddon, gazing back over his
shoulder. Something was moving in the mist, beyond their city, in the
swamp. He couldn't make it out, but it seemed like something big.
Something shadowy. The instant he thought he saw it the mist thickened, and
it vanished when it next cleared. But it was still there. He could sense

Shadows were growing longer, and the veil between this realm and the next
was weakening. Zola grinned as he realized his heart was beating faster
than usual with excitement. Glorious times were ahead.

Pausing only to make sure the bell at his side was as silent as it had
always been, he marshalled on. So much to do, and so little time.

Writer: Garrett

Date Tue Oct 25 06:09:29 2016

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Tue Oct 25 19:20:00 2016

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Tue Oct 25 19:44:10 2016

Writer: Catroina
Date Tue Oct 25 20:56:38 2016

Writer: Gwyneera
Date Tue Oct 25 21:28:54 2016

Writer: Garrett
Date Wed Oct 26 07:08:04 2016

To Bloodlust All Imm RP Alasdair

Subject The Underworld's Fairy Queen

Garrett hated the fairy queen of the Underworld.

She throws gourds. She blinds. She weakens. She instigates. She casts AMS
and chain lightning. She dispels. She hits extremely hard. She's hearty.

Overall? She sucks.

The Bard's party was in disarray. Zola out of mana. Pitheuis blinded,
being hit by the queen repeatedly. Azheri not concentrating. Ferg absent.
Szy'gash annoyed and sleeping elsewhere. Boof being... Boof.

Garrett sighed at his current cast of characters. It was a sad state in
Algoron when -this- constituted the most dangerous bloodthirsty and
successful group in the realms.

But then again, who was he to talk? A pretty face, a quick tongue, and a
few lucky punches were his only claim to fame. Perseverence his only real

Garrett smiled, rearing back to roundhouse the bitch.

The Bard was happy.

Writer: Garrett
Date Wed Oct 26 07:40:14 2016

Writer: Gheirin
Date Wed Oct 26 17:52:06 2016

Writer: Aliera
Date Wed Oct 26 19:46:24 2016

Writer: Zola
Date Wed Oct 26 22:18:22 2016

To All Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X Mist, Rain, Snow X

Something decidedly odd was happening with the weather.

Between the previous day's mist and today's poisonous rainfall, the entire
natural order of things seemed to have been thrown out of order. Further
proof the barrier between the mortal realm and the Void was thinning as they
approached His most venerated, hallowed holiday.

Standing by the entrance to the Dungeon, Zola held out a hand, watching with
fascination as the rain ate away at his leather gloves, reducing them to
almost nothing in mere moments. They would have continued to eat away at
the hand beneath if not for the next most curious thing. The dark clouds
above were struck by some sort of strange azure flame. And then All the
rain seemed to stop... Becoming instead... Particles of frozen water.


Snow which fell to earth, melting almost as soon as it hit the ground. It
still wasn't quite cold enough a time of year for it to accumulate in any
sort of depth. Nor would it be plentiful enough to kill the plants and
animals the same way the rain had been. Not even slowly. No, this whole
matter seemed less deliberate murder and more a... Ripple... Side
effect... Of what was really going on in the world.

A shadow passed overhead, and Zola peered up. Something was coming.
Something big.

Writer: Damerus

Date Wed Oct 26 22:45:39 2016

To All Kaelissa ( Imm RP Religion Nadrik )

Subject On the Hunt II

'Did you still wish to speak with me regarding my motive for wanting to
know about the Void?

The walls of the room were as white as any he could remember seeing. The
only contrast they offered were the wall scrolls: numerous works of fine
artistry that depicted a variety of vibrant, colorful images. Damerus sat
at a hardwood table with his hands folded together, his deep blue eyes on
the woman sat opposite him.

Kaelissa Shiroken had platinum blonde hair that somehow managed to be both
waist-long and posssessed of curls the likes of which resembled a viper at
the ready to strike. Her piercing stare, reinforced by the steely hue that
made up the iris' of her eyes, completed the countenance of a woman both
noble of birth and spirit. Behind those steely eyes Damerus could see the
weight of great sorrow though, and he could not help but empathize with what
he knew she was going through.

The smell of steaming vegetables and cooking noodles wafted through the air
of the resturaunt. It was not the fare Damerus enjoyed eating, yet All the
same the aroma's were appealing and caused his stomach to tighten in hunger.
He swallowed thickly and then spoke.

'At the Algoron World Games last year, during the Bardic Competition, Bishop
Vys Miete sang a song about a princess of Arkane who wandered off into a
forest, only to be confronted by a Demon of Fatale who murdered her in
sacrifice to its God.
' Damerus paused for a moment to catch his breath
before adding ' His song was about my daughter. '

At the back of the resturaunt, someone plucked expertly at a shamisen,
offering up a beautiful, lilting tune that was discordant with what the
half-ogre was saying. 'I spoke with him sometime after his performance to
confirm the truth of it.

Kaelissa frowned, the look in her eyes shifting from stern to angry.
'How... -did- he hear of such a thing? '

'He told me he met the demon who did it. Said the demon ... Bragged to him
about its doing. I asked to give me the name of the demon. He did, so far
as I know, but he told me the demon has since returned to the Void ...

Damerus looked up from Kaelissa and looked around the room as if to ensure
nobody was listening in to what he was about to say. There were only a few
other tables currently occupied, mostly the ones nearest to the light that
was on offer from the paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Satisfied
that he wasn't being spied on, he leaned in.

'So here I am ... My daughter's killer is a demon that has returned to the
void, and I intend to go there and find it.

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Wed Oct 26 23:52:20 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Wed Oct 26 23:55:52 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Wed Oct 26 23:59:11 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 27 00:03:49 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 27 00:09:41 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 27 09:10:30 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 27 09:15:10 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 27 09:18:44 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Oct 27 09:22:21 2016

Writer: Garrett
Date Thu Oct 27 11:36:25 2016

Writer: Leomire
Date Thu Oct 27 13:07:50 2016

To Althainia Teimhnean All ( Imm RP Storyline Religeon Zandreya Zypher )

Subject Spirit Warrior

Leomire found himself in one of the most sacred places he knew. He was
under the great vallenwood tree that was growing in the stone village of the
Althainia tribe. The Great Mother herself had touched the world here. It
was Her touch on the world that grew the great trees. He could think of no
better place to do the work that he needed doing.

The barrier between the spirit world and the mortal world was thinning, as
it always did this time of year. Though he did not remember even hearing of
the dangerous weather the cheif of the Althainia tribe had told him of. He
didn't know if the weather and the thinning of the barrier between worlds
were related, but the timing was to much to be considered coincedence.

As he began to bulid talismans to help keep evil spirits away from the
people of the Althainia tribe, he began to chant.

He needed to try and learn from the spirits what they knew of the weather.

He could protect the tribe from the spirits, but the weather, that was
something completely different.

He could see The Great Mother's hand in ending the dangerous weather. She
would not stand for anyone tainting the natural way of things like that.
She may not always be kind, but neither was life. But she would never stand
for anything so, unnatural. So, wrong.

This was his battle to fight. Several times in the past it seemed like his
time with the Althainia tribe had come to an end. Yet, he kept hearing a
voice to stay, that he was ment to be with the Althainia tribe for some
reason. Now he understood. The spirits had wanted him to stay, to protect
the Althainia tribe from things the furless did not understand. Things the
furless had no knowledge how to fight. Things like this.

He would solve this. It was his duty.

Writer: Garrett
Date Thu Oct 27 14:27:56 2016

Writer: Garrett
Date Thu Oct 27 14:28:06 2016

Writer: Terces
Date Thu Oct 27 19:21:07 2016

Writer: Sabien
Date Thu Oct 27 19:50:56 2016

Writer: Catroina
Date Thu Oct 27 21:29:31 2016

Writer: Catroina
Date Thu Oct 27 21:33:44 2016

Writer: Zola
Date Fri Oct 28 00:22:52 2016

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Fri Oct 28 01:31:07 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject Passing the Time

Kahlyn visited the Nomad village almost every night, experimenting on the
cows with different poisons and diseases, learning which were fast acting
and which were long acting. The long acting diseased cows, he left in the
fields, waiting for the disease to spread to the nomads. The children would
become sick first and then the rest of them would follow. Kahlyn smiled,
"For Dragoth," he whispered. What, or who, would be next, he wondered.

Writer: Corron
Date Fri Oct 28 11:30:43 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Fri Oct 28 11:34:56 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Fri Oct 28 11:38:48 2016

Writer: Garrett
Date Fri Oct 28 12:57:23 2016

Writer: Garrett
Date Fri Oct 28 12:57:29 2016

Writer: Garrett
Date Fri Oct 28 12:57:33 2016

Writer: Eadaoin
Date Fri Oct 28 17:51:07 2016

Writer: Leomire
Date Fri Oct 28 20:53:40 2016

To Althainia Teimhnean All ( Imm RP Storyline Religeon Zandreya Zypher )

Subject Spirit Warrior II

Leomire continued his work under the great vallenwood tree the Althainia
tribe had inside their village of stone. The talismans he has been working
on, were proving harder than he imagined. He was having difficulty getting
them to give off the right aura. Perhaps this place, while clearly touched
by The Great Mother, as evidenced by the vallenwood, was not visited by the
spirits as much as he thought.

He had tried placing a couple at spots where paths in the village crossed.
They just didn't feel right. Like they were not strong enough. He would
not give up though. The furless of the tribe were counting on him. He had
given the chief his word to do what he can.

Writer: Damerus
Date Sat Oct 29 02:27:57 2016

To All Kaelissa ( Imm RP Religion Nadrik )

Subject On the Hunt III

'If I summon it ... and I slay it ... what am I to do if doing so only
sends it back to the void?

Damerus swayed back as a metallic fist came flying at his face but failed
to move with sufficient speed. The fist slammed into his jaw, causing his
head to snap back. His twin blades, poised to strike, flew up and parried
the next incoming blow. The golemn relentlessly advanced with no concern
for its own safety, hammering fist after fist to the half-ogre's face. It
wasn't long before the golem's fists had split his lip and opened cuts on
both his cheeks and eyebrows.

'I know little of demons and their ilk. Yet the folklore I have read and
listened to states always that there is power in knowing their name, and
power within those circles. I cannot promise you it will accomplish what
you seek, but as there is a chance, I would have you seek that knowledge
out and weigh it before acting in haste.

Another fist came rocketing ruthlessly toward his face. This time he was
able to side-step the blow. With a loud grunt he slammed both blades of
his twin swords down on the golemn's metal arm. The appendage was sliced
clean through, unceremoniously dropping to the floor. In spite of the blow
the golemn surged forward, yelling 'You must go, you will disturb them!'
yet it was futile now. Damerus allowed the golemn to meteor its fist right
into his breastplate. He savagely skewered one blade through its chest,
then swung violently with the other, separating its head from its neck.

As the inert, lifeless shell crumpled to the floor he yanked his blade
clear, then carefully sheathed both. Rows upon rows of shelves, stacked
with books beyond counting met his gaze. Hanging from the ceiling was the
symbol of Cliath upon a banner. Below it he could read the name of this
section of the Library: The Demiurgic Arts Shelves. He wet his lips with
his tongue, tasting his blood, then looked down at the canine companion
that was with him. It cocked its head curiously in response.

'If I heed your advice Duchess, and it does not accomplish what I wish to
accomplish, will you help me reach the void then?

'I will then show you the entry places I know of. '

Damerus knelt down, reached out and gently scratched behind the akita's
ear before giving it a reassuring smile. Its tongue lolled out from behind
its maw. He imagined it was doing its best to smile at him. Damerus pushed
himself upright and then stretched the muscles of his arms. As he did he
once again gazed around the area.

'Well, time to get to work. Supposedly the knowledge of everything ever
created is contained in this section of the Library. That should include
demons, I would think.

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Sat Oct 29 12:04:43 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Sat Oct 29 12:08:07 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Sat Oct 29 12:13:41 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Sat Oct 29 12:42:10 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Sat Oct 29 12:45:19 2016

Writer: Terces
Date Sun Oct 30 17:47:03 2016

Writer: Letrut
Date Sun Oct 30 19:26:28 2016

To All imm rp

Subject walking the light

Here I sit and think how I can better the lands and bring out the light in them then the filth. One as a light that doesnt steal shall earn his right into aid with. Justice we call upon a better light then dark. I shall begin.

Writer: Corron
Date Sun Oct 30 21:46:54 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Sun Oct 30 21:50:29 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Sun Oct 30 21:54:38 2016

Writer: Sierus
Date Mon Oct 31 18:15:25 2016

To Abaddon All ( Imm Rp )

Subject The Bargain

Breaking at last through the thick fog, dew from the mists mingling with
his sweat and dripping from his hair, the boy scrambled along a thick
cypress root to settle panting against the massive trunk and call out a low
warbling note. "Hello?.. It's just me again.." He whispered, watching all
around, ears straining for the smallest of sounds though it was rare those
he sought betrayed their movements in such a fashion.

A flurry of lights darting through the mists and rounding the tree brought a
smile to the boy who held out his hand in greeting as they converged to
dance before him. "I've got so much to tell you, my friends. It's been
very exciting!" The frantic pattern of their flight within the coagulating
mist slowly took on a vague form in size and shape akin to his own from
which many quiet refrains of ((Sierus)) became audible. The boy giggled and
smiled at the phantasm, saying "Hello Sparks, I hope you are very well".
The transparent form emulated a nod of it's head and called again in it's
many voices ((Chase?.. Chase? )).

"No, not right now Sparks. Have you seen Teller? I wanted to tell him
about my first sermon.. And the boat ride I got to go on... And well, ask
some questions again too." ((Silly.. Silly.. Silly)) came the chorus. "I
know but sometimes he answers them.. Well, sort of.." , The boy replied
with a shrug.

The luminescent form cocked it's head in regard of the boy, a gesture oft
seen from the boy himself. "I know.. Patience.. But there's determination
too" the boy replied with a small laugh. "Sooner or later I'll ask the
right questions or he'll just give up and answer.. I hope" the boy
continued. "So where's he hiding?"

A sudden flick on the back of his ear had the boy whirl to regard the tree
behind him exclaiming "Hey!" Peering at the trunk with narrowed eyes he and
finding nothing he called out accusingly "Teller...." . Finding nothing he
sighed and turned back at the sound of chittering laughter from the shadow
form he called Sparks.

His eyes moved from the source of the laughter down to the small
black-haired imp resting casually upon the toe of his boot. Gesturing
wildly with it's disproportionately long arms the imp piped in it's small
voice, "Boys and questions, questions and boys, always together, always
more... *sigh* Do you bring treats for the Teller?"

Writer: Catroina

Date Mon Oct 31 19:06:20 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Mon Oct 31 19:14:47 2016

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Mon Oct 31 20:06:50 2016

To All Zola Kefkamasu ( Dragoth Imm RP Religion )

Subject The Day of the Dead, a Sermon

Kahlyn kept silent during the entire sermon, watching Bishop Zola
carefully. He had never been to a sermon where bloodletting was involved
and it was rather interesting to him. He smiled, hearing the dark word and
marvelled at the focus everyone had during the sermon. He took part in the
bloodletting, silently, smiling gently as he watched his blood pool and
intermingle with the other blood.

His attention kept averting to the box near the Bishop, which kept moving,
as if something was inside. He grinned as his silent question was answered.
Vampire Bats! The swarm was magnificent! The Darkonin Queen tornadoed them
into the world towards the end of he sermon to hunt for the blood of
Algoron. Kahlyn rose his voice in praise of the Darkness and of Lord
Dragoth, watching as the dark swarm invaded the peaceful night.

Writer: Sierus

Date Mon Oct 31 20:49:22 2016

To Abaddon All ( Imm RP )

Subject The Bargain pt. II

"Don't I always bring treats? I never forget my friends." , The boy said
as he rummaged within his backpack. Producing a stick of jerkied meat, he
split the morsel in half offering the larger to the imp and tossing the
other into a nearby pool of murky water. "A piece for Lurker too." He
explained as the imp seized the meat greedily. The imp turned the meat end
over end sniffing before raising an eyebrow to the boy and asking "Gnomie
The boy grinned and nodded in reply adding "fresh yesterday"
and giggling at the pleased look the imp's face acquired. Noticing the
slowing patterns within the shadowy form the boy quickly added "And..
Something special for you Sparks." Reaching inside his tunic he produced a
small leather pouch, loosened the drawstring and poured a small pile of gray
dust upon the ground. Holding up a finger he concentrated a moment till the
tip began to glow. A mischievious grin was the only warning given before
thrusting his finger into the pile which flashed explosively in a display of
light and smoke causing the misty swarm to fly apart momentarily before
returning to it's patterned flight form.

Laughing at the surprise, the boy said "There's plenty for All of you and
it's light enough for you to carry the grains. I found it on Deliverance
and thought of you right away." His grin widened as the pattern broke into
a vortex which quickly emptied the pouch and sped away trailing small
sputtering flashes and crackles in a crazy dance.

Turning back to the imp who steadily worried at the jerkied meat, the boy
began to relate his adventures on the Day of the Dead, the cruise aboard the
deliverance, his first sermon to Fatale and the brush with a divine being.
The imp halted his feast momentarily at the last mention, commenting "The
Zola is known, the eyes follow like shadow, ever near, never far, through
the veil, thin, thin, thin, you see them back."
, Before returning to his

The boy considered this a moment and then said, "The night before he showed
me a game I'd never seen before.. But I knew how to play. He called it
Chess. It was a war game, and I beat him on my first try. I don't know how
I knew the game. Isn't that weird, Teller?" The imp shrugged indifferently
pausing long enough to say "The other knew." The boy peered quizzically at
the small creature and asked "The other? What other, Teller?" Another
shrug and short reply of "The other.. The bargainer" was the only answer
forthcoming bringing the boy's eyebrows together and down in a scowl of
perturbed confusion.

"Teller, you keep bringing up the bargain but you don't tell me what it is.
Why do you keep secrets from me? I want to know what the bargain is." The
boy stated firmly. Finishing the last of his treat and smacking his lips as
he licked each of his fingers clean, the imp made a raspberry noise with his
lips saying "Bargain knows you, to know bargain know you, when know you,
know bargain"
The boy clapped a hand to his face to smother the frustration
of another riddle within a riddle as the imp barked a short laugh and
extended his arms towards the boy with it's eyebrows raised, "More treats
for Teller?"

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Mon Oct 31 23:10:50 2016

To Althainia Thasgerd All ( Immortal Rp )

Subject A Creation

Bits of wood shavings floated to the floor of the Church of Light and
piled up between Gwyn's feet as she worked her knife over a small piece of
wood. She had learned to whittle at a young age, her father had taught her
as soon as he thought she could handle the knife. It was a hobby that she
had come to enjoy a great deal and it was also a way to honor Lord Cliath by
using the gift of creation that he so freely shared with the world.

Cliath had been whom her father had taught her about, it was what he knew
and was passionate about. He had told her that he suspected she would find
her own path in time but she should know where she came from first before
she got where she was going. So he taught her what he knew and he left the
rest up to her to explore.

Now she sat in the Church, thinking as she whittled away at a piece of wood.
It was beginning to take shape, looking somewhat like a medallion as she
worked to get the rounded edges smooth. Gwyn's mind was full of thoughts
about her dad's words and where she was going. There was an ache in her
heart, a tugging perhaps, that she hadn't been able to understand or pin
point before. One that was entirely separate from her life with Thasgerd.
All was right with that part of her life, more than right really.

She understood it now and knew what path she was headed down. It wouldn't
be an easy one and she knew what some would think. Her heart was leading
her now though so none of that mattered. She felt a clarity of things that
she hadn't felt before. She would prove herself no matter what it took.

Her eyes drifted over the emblem in her hands before she heard footsteps.
She glanced up to see a less than pleased acolyte staring at her and
motioning to the pile of wood shavings. Chuckling softly, she nodded to the
woman, giving her a cheeky smile and tucked the emblem into her pocket as
she stood up. Gwyn made her way over to a cubby and found a broom before
returning to the pile of shavings.

Gwyn hummed softly as she swept the pile up and gathered it up before
carrying it out of the Church. The acolyte watched her, seeming satisfied
that the mess was cleaned up as Gwyn returned the broom to its cubby. With
a sigh, Gwyn pulled the emblem from her pocket and examined it. She ran her
fingers over the delicate details that were carved into the wood. It was
clearly one of the symbols of light.

The acolyte walked closer and glanced over Gwyn's shoulder at the emblem,
her eyebrows raising slightly in question. With a soft smile on her lips,
Gwyn nodded to the old woman and released a heavy sigh. Both of them turned
their gazes to one of the temple entrances before Gwyn disappeared into it,
the emblem clutched tightly.

It was time for this creation to forge her own path.

Writer: Corron

Date Mon Oct 31 23:41:26 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 31 23:43:40 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Oct 31 23:46:33 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Tue Nov 1 23:06:14 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Tue Nov 1 23:10:43 2016

Writer: Talrenvor
Date Tue Nov 1 23:16:14 2016

Writer: Gwyneera
Date Wed Nov 2 21:33:39 2016

To Althainia All ( Imm rp ) ( Austinian Cliath )

Subject Enough

The pile of dirt was getting higher and the hole bigger as Gwyn pushed
the shovel into the dirt, scooping up a large pile and tossing it out of the
hole. This was the last of the graves that needed to be dug for those that
had died in the square earlier so Gwyn was already tired and sweaty. She
had volunteered for this task though, both needing to see that the people
were laid to rest properly and needing to work out her own frustrations and

Once the grave was the correct size and depth, Gwyn climbed out and wiped
the sweat from her brow. She nodded to the guards and moved a distance away
to watch and not interfere with the family and their grieving. Reaching
into her pocket, Gwyn pulled out the small wooden medallion she was carrying
around and stared at it. Her fingers traced over the symbol that was carved
into the wood, and she swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat.

She returned the shovel to one of the guards and approached each of the
families, offering her condolences and apologies before slipping out of the
graveyard quietly. A sick feeling was building in Gwyn's stomach, one that
easily rivaled the green haze that had made them All feel ill the night
before. This feeling was worse, it was the mixture of failure and being
powerless with a bit of guilt added in. Her feet carried her to crown
street and on into the Church of light before she doubled over and swallowed
back the bile rising in her throat.

They had tried to calm the crowd and reason with them. They had
accomplished that with some of them, their wounds had been healed or the
requests for the materials to rebuild were met so they had dispersed from
the crowd. Some of them, however, were more vocal than the rest and were
convinced that the Gods had either abandoned us or that they were punishing
us for those whom had recently turned from both the city and the light.
Fear does odd things to people, including making them irrational and Gwyn
knew this.

Now she knelt in the Temple of Austinian, the medallion she had carved
clutched tightly in her hand as she prayed. She prayed for those that were
lost today and their families, prayed that they were now safe in their God's
embrace, prayed for those that were injured and scared. She prayed that
everyone else, Knights and Althainians alike, would remain safe as they
stood against whatever this evil was.

Gwyn whispered her amen and sat back on her knees, staring at the medallion
in her hand. She once again traced her fingers over the symbol of Austinian
that was carved into the wood and sighed. The senseless deaths of those in
the square today had struck a cord with Gwyn.

She needed to.... Had to.... No, ached to do more. This couldn't and it
wouldn't be All she would do with her life. She was called to do more, she
knew it and felt it down deep.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Fri Nov 4 22:37:18 2016

To All Hrentun Zola Kefkamasu ( Mencius Imm RP Religion )

Subject An Awakening

Kahlyn met Hrentun and Benthic at the Obsidian Althar. His need for
vengeance was a bit confusing to him and he sought anyone whom knew of
Mencius. He had already been shunned by Kantilles and thought that seeking
Dragoth would be the answer but he felt a gnawing, scratching feeling
underneath his soul, as of late. He had kept his anger in a box: anger of
the mutiny, anger of those whom worked against him when All he did was work
hard for Althainia. So many people had asked him why he sought Dragoth and
to his embarrassment, it was because he sought revenge... Vengeance. He
never admitted to such, ever. But now... As he prayed and worked, he
understood that vengeance was indeed a very big part of his change from the

Benthic had asked him numerous times why he chose Dragoth, but never stated
his opinion. As a true brother, Benthic must have been making sure that
Kahlyn was making the right decision for himself. Many times, Benthic had
questioned his decison but as of this eve, questions would no longer be

As long as it is for the darkness, Kahlyn thought to himself. I shall let
my desire for vengeance and rage come to fruition. This is whom I am meant
to become. The Queen of Nordmaar often asked Kahlyn why he chose Dragoth,
and now he had an answer for why he sought Mencius.

Writer: Wrenpip
Date Sun Nov 6 01:37:09 2016

Writer: Magdelina
Date Sun Nov 6 03:43:48 2016

Writer: Ro'maeve
Date Sun Nov 6 11:40:58 2016

To All Kryeis Dyaki Mra'krarz RP Zandreya Austinian

Subject Beginnings

Ro'maeve paused in his ascent of the narrow pass leading through the crags.
Dust puffed into the afternoon sun, displaced by his massive paws as he turned
to look back along the trail. The dun waves of grass that blanketed the Savannah
rose from the plains below and extended into distance. The occasional spindly
tree or wet glisten of a stream or pool interrupted the grass sea. From this
distance, the plains looked desolate, but Ro'maeve knew the grasses teemed
with life. Predators and prey of All shapes and sizes stalked and lived in the
fertile plains. Life in the Savannah was a constant struggle. The reward was
another meal or another day drawing breath. Each moment was precious.
Nothing was guaranteed.

Despite the distance, he was certain he could still see a smudge on the
horizon marking the smoke from the pyres. Shaking his head in a fruitless
mingling of disgust and regret, Ro'maeve cinched the small, hide-wrapped
bundle tighter across his shoulders. It was All that remained to him. Moving
with remarkable grace for his large leonine frame, he turned back to the pass
that led away from his former home and towards the coast of Tropica.
According to one of the few traders that had braved the grasslands over the
years, a great "port" where rivercraft known as "boats" traversed the great
waters to distant lands.

His tail lashed the air in consternation at the sudden shift in his life that
forced him from the familiar Savannah and into completely uncharted territories
The names of kingdoms and peoples, vague concepts of night fire tales, swam
through his mind. Heedlessly calling attention to himself in the unfamiliar
terrain, Ro'maeve's lips pulled back as a bestial snarl slipped past his sharp
teeth. He had assumed he would one day venture into the wider world, but
not like this. Circumstances could hardly have been worse and he could not
be less prepared. Yet, there was nothing left for him here and there could be
no returning.

A new sound echoed in the increasingly narrow pass. His own stomach rumbled
its discontent loudly. He had not eaten in two days. There would be little
opportunity for hunting in the days ahead. He was accustomed to the rhythms and
creatures of the wild plains. There would be many hungry days ahead as he
learned the terrain and habits of prey in the new lands. Of equal import as the
prey being unknown, so too would be the predators. The cycle of life and death
was immutable. The places and players might change, taking on new forms, yet
the dance was ever the same. The strong overtook the weak and the weak provided
sustenance. There could be no other way. The natural world would follow its
eternal, irresistible pattern. Some ever sought disrupt that cycle.

From the back of his mind came the memory of bodies burning atop their pyres.
Day old smoke and blood assaulted his nose as flies buzzed about and carrion
birds cawed their dismay at being denied their due. There was little left of the
encampment, even the timbers of the few huts were harvested for fuel. No one
was alive to need any shelter. With the memory came a renewed ache from the
poorly salved gashes across his arm and abdomen. The spirits grant that the
wounds that should have claimed his life did not fester.

The raid had come with swift brutality. The attackers cared nothing for hunting
grounds or accruing honor. Only blood and destruction. Ro'maeve could discern
no other motive. He was yet surprised that he had opened his eyes to find he did
not number among the dead like every other member of his fallen pride.

The setting sun was at his back when he left the jagged pass and laid eyes on the
dark blue of the great salt waters that blanketed the far horizons. Unfamiliar scents
and cries of foreign birds set his broad nose to twitching and his tufted ears to
swiveling in an effort to catalog them all. Somewhere beyond the trails that
followed the curving coastline Ro'maeve would find passage to the wider world.
His journey had only begun.

Writer: Kahlyn
Date Mon Nov 7 00:55:13 2016

To All Hrentun Zola Kefkamasu ( Mencius Imm RP Religion )

Subject Memories

As he continued to pray at the Mencius's temple, Kahlyn reflected back on
recent days, he had slept so long that the past was still very close to him.
He remembered how those closest to him had betrayed him, those of the so
called light. He did not understand how such arrogance and silver tongued
words could even be uttered by those calling themselves of goodness. He
shook his head at the memories and frowned. Had he mischosen? Yes. Would
he still show himself worthy of Mencius? He would or die trying.

Writer: Fyahy'll
Date Mon Nov 7 02:42:09 2016

To All Crelius Zorreau Vulgrim IMM ( RP Necrucifer )

Subject -=Descent Into Darkness=- (Prologue Part 4)

The wide ship groaned as it keeled over another gentle wave, rolling the
contents and occupants around with each impressive swell. Fyahyll looked up
at the full red sails and the blue sky beyond. They pulled the merchant
ship consistently and with a constant steady force. A reminder of mans need
to dominate and use his surroundings, the red silk puffed out like full red

Arkania was her destination. She lent her thoughts to the distant altar.
The epicenter for All that she had formerly opposed, and pillar of her
salvation now. She would continue her path observing those whom she planned
to join. The painful visit of her new Lord had given her strength, resolve,
and most dangerous of all... Direction.

Writer: Magdelina

Date Mon Nov 7 10:12:04 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Mon Nov 7 15:49:52 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Nov 7 21:18:57 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Nov 7 21:21:45 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Nov 7 21:24:55 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Mon Nov 7 21:31:53 2016

Writer: Gwyneera
Date Mon Nov 7 22:41:20 2016

To All Austinian Cliath ( Imm Rp )

Subject A torch

Back and forth... Back and forth.. Gwyneera paced in Austinian's
temple, her quiet foot steps barely discernible by those with the most
sensitive of ears, but her murmurs and grumbles filled the room. She knew
this would be the hard part and it was proving to be.

Respect. Cliath and His church deserved as much, as they had done no wrong
nor were they truly an ill fit for the highland lass. It was just not what
was in her heart anymore, a small part perhaps but not the biggest part..
The part that drove her. She needed to step into the light, lend her
strength to it. It wasn't enough for her to stand in the middle and simply
lean to the light as she had always done. It was time to step out of the
gray of the storms and into the sunlight.

She picked up her ink and quill and started to write. These would be some
of the hardest, yet liberating words that she would write in her life. The
future from this point on would be uncertain for a bit but Gwyn was
determined to weather whatever was needed and prove herself worthy. She had
her heart standing with her and a goal in mind, she would see it through.

Acceptance or not, Gwyn would stand with the light and see it grow stronger.
She would protect the innocent, spread kindness and love. She would help
those she could, offer salvation and her own experiences to those that were
lost and wanted it. Lead by example, that is what is what she would do.

She was a torch amidst the darkness but only just starting to burn. She
would burn brighter and light the path before she was done.

Writer: Sierus
Date Wed Nov 9 19:27:48 2016

To Abaddon Zola Rohesia All ( Imm RP )

Subject The Bargain pt. III

Sitting before the gameboard the strange sense of detachment found him as
it had before. The walls and furnishings of Rohesia's home fading to a
translucent film between him and the greater scene playing out All around
him on the periphery of his vision. The muted sounds of that other world
reaching his keen hearing in the form of gasping, ragged breath, grunts of
exertion, steel ringing upon steel, and the cries of pain from both man and
beast. Amid this maelstrom of vision, the boy sat very still, strangely
calm and detached within the eye of the storm playing out, a spectator as
his own hands deftly and surely made move after move towards a goal he could
not foresee.

"You've been practicing I can see." Said Rohesia though her voice seemed
to come from a great distance. His eyes lifted to regard her and images of
a younger child superimposed itself momentarily upon her smiling face.
"This is only my second time to play this game." , He managed to say softly
before he was once more submerged within the otherness. His hands continued
their unbidden work as he regarded the faceless forms moving about him in
their struggle. Locked in their deadly combat, the strangely armored men
called out in strange tongues, oblivious to him and leaving him to wonder
momentarily if he was dreaming them or they were dreaming him.

His focus shifted back to his own hand as it receded from the just moved
piece then up to gaze at Rohesia as her smirk confirmed the realization of
the fatal stroke it represented. "You cheat worse than Zola.." , She said
raising a sense of alarm in the boy as the ghostly tableau dissapated
leaving the reality of walls and home. "I didn't do it!" He blurted out
before he could catch himself drawing a curious look from his older sister.
"It's alright, it's just a game and someone must win." She said causing
him to relax and smile at her.

Behind his smile his mind raced for understanding of what he'd seen and what
he'd done. The spells of otherness had begun to occur more frequently, the
triggers for it seemingly random and oft accompanied with sights and sounds.
He felt no fear at the comings and goings of them, only confusion and wonder
as to the reason. He added the multitude of questions to the list of things
he somehow knew Teller held the answers to and would eventually get. After
all, Fatale favored those with determination and the patience to see things
to their ends.

Breaking into a conspiratorial smile he leaned forward to quietly offer an
admission. "You did much better than Zola.. I beat him much faster, but
don't tell him that." A laugh and a giggle sealed their shared secret.

Writer: Corron

Date Thu Nov 10 09:57:09 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Thu Nov 10 09:59:33 2016

Writer: Corron
Date Thu Nov 10 10:01:43 2016

Writer: Rothayk'a
Date Fri Nov 11 08:41:25 2016

Writer: Gwyneera
Date Fri Nov 11 15:15:20 2016

To All Althainia ( Imm Rp )

Subject Drill Sergeant?.. Drill Soldier!

Attention! Forwar' March!

The call rang out followed by the distinct sounds of footsteps as a platoon
of the Althainian military marched south through the north gate. The men
were All in their finiest uniforms, pressed and cleaned to perfection as
they marched in unison.

Pla'oon hal'! All at once the men stopped. Gwyn nodded as she observed
them before calling out, 'Righ' flan' march! ' The platoon turned east all
at once and started marching along the northeast wall.

Shop keepers and citizens had started to come out and line the streets,
watching the drill. Gwyn walked along with them, occasionally dropping back
to correct something with one of the men or speak to someone but mostly, she
kept within steps distance of the platoon.

This was both a good drill for the military members as it gave them a chance
to work on formation and executing commands in unison but also it allowed
citizens in the kingdom to see the military presence. With the recent
storms and then the riot that had occurred, it was good for the citizens to
see the military actively working which would hopefully help put them at
ease. At least Gwyn hoped it would.

She smiled at a few shop keepers and nodded as she called out, 'Righ' flan'
' causing the platoon to turn and march down the eastern wall. The
platoon continued down the eastern wall, pausing a moment at the gates to
allow citizens and visitors to pass through before continuing on.

The platoon marched down to the southeastern wall, turned south and worked
its way long the south wall, then up the west wall. As the group arrived at
the west gate, Gwyn called out, 'Pla'oon Hal'! , Righ' Flan' March! Down
main street the men marched.

Gwyn stopped them a few times along main street, allowing citizens to pass
and to chat with shop keepers who had come out to watch. She observed the
men, making certain they remained in formation and at attention. A lesson
in patience she thought. As they approached market Square, Gwyn spied the
mayor coming from the other direction.

She immediately called out, 'Pla'oon Hal'! The men All at once stopped
before the mayor as Gwyn watched them closely, 'Presen' Arms! The men
saluted the Mayor in unison, waiting for their next command. Order Arms!

'Forwar' March, ' Gwyn called out after the mayor had gone on his way and
the platoon continued on down main street. 'Lef' Flank March! ' she called
out as they rounded the corner by the east gate and marched towards Crown

'Righ' flank March! ' People watched as the platoon marched towards the
palace, Gwyn constantly circling around them and watching their movements.
She called out an order to halt as they reached the palace gates and made
her way over to the front by the gates.

'Presen' Arms' She watched them quietly and walked along beside them,
correcting a few things before finally nodding. 'Order Arms!.... At ease!
' The highland lass watched as the men lowered their sabers and stepped out
into an at ease position.

Nae bad men, ye did a gude job. Now go aboot yer usual orders. ' She
grinned to herself, watching to see if any would forget and break formation
but none did. After a moment she called out. 'Attention! The men quickly
snapped back to attention, waiting.

Dismissed! ' At that the men scattered, causing Gwyn to chuckle to herself.
She jotted a few notes down in manual before tucking it away and grumbling,
'Ah need coffee, ' as she headed back to main street.

Writer: Sierus

Date Sat Nov 12 13:20:39 2016

To Abaddon Zola Rohesia All ( Imm RP )

Subject The Bargain pt. IV

Amid the usual noises and chitterings heard within the swamp, the scrape
of soil upon steel and slurp of mud being pulled away was a new occurrance
drawing curious attention. The flash of a shovel blade emerging from the
ground to heave a bit of muck was the first sign of the the boy who stood
within a deep hole whose rim exceeded his own height by a foot. Barefoot
and with sleeves and leggings rolled up, the boy paused a moment to survey
his work, and ease the fire within his burning muscles the effort had
produced. The task had provd more daunting than originally thought, as the
saturated soil fought his efforts and the slow leak of water through the
walls left a pool of muck ankle deep in the bottom of the hole. A swipe of
his sleeve upon his brow sufficed to renew his efforts to see the job
performed properly, as once more he thrust with the shovel and heaved a
fresh shovel full.

Nearing the depth he sought, his rising expectation of completion was dashed
as a mound of muck slid from the rim above him to land with a splash behind
him. With a grimace he doubled his efforts to fling the muck further away
in a burst of shovel work and had reached his goal when a further shovelful
splattered across his head from above. Peering malevolently at the rim
above he could hear the faint chittering laugh which confirmed his
suspicions. "Very funny, Teller.." He growled out as the imp poked his
head over the rim to blink, grin and heave one more handful down upon the
boy. Heaving up the shovel, the boy scrambled out of the hole wielding his
own handful of mud, but his target had vanished. "Alright.. You win." He
called out dropping his handful and settling upon a nearby stump where his
tunic and boots sat. "Treats?.." Came the familiar call as the imp
appeared next to the boy with a satisfied grin.

Producing a bit of jerky from his pack, the boy handed the morsel to the imp
who went to work gnawing upon it greedily. "This is hard enough work
without you making it worse. I want to be ready to do my duties when I can
become one of the Forsaken." The boy stated rubbing at his aching shoulder.
"Teller helps.. Work brings pain, pain feeds determination, determination
turns pain to strength, strength purges weakness"
The boy regarded the imp
who simply shrugged and added "Wisdom.. Yes, yes.. Silly boy. Small
sacrifice for great gift."
The boy regarded the imp with a smirk and said
"Mud on my head is a great gift? Oh thank you, thank you, ever wise
Teller.." . "Greater prices paid into the bargain, we keeps our promise,
we keeps the bargain, no flaw in our dealings, no, no flaws."
The imp
replied off handedly around a mouthful of jerky. "Yes, yes.. The bargain
again. I know." The boy said with a sigh and leaned back against the
stump. His snack finished the imp sprang onto the boy's chest and waved a
finger in his face saying "You will understand, soon yes soon, but must
never forget.."
. The boy raised an eyebrow expectantly to hear as the imp
continued in a low tone, ".. Treats for Teller! And after tweaking the
boy's nose disappeared once more.

Shaking his head and sighing, the boy rolled down his sleeves and leggings,
and donned his tunic. As he thrust his foot into his boot it met a cold,
wet mess which squished out and over his boot top. His face scrunched into
a scowl, his face darkening to the tips of his ears as he exploded in a cry
of frustration "TELLER!!!! AHHHHH!!!"

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Sun Nov 13 17:16:48 2016

To All Hrentun Zola Kefkamasu ( Mencius Imm RP Religion )

Subject Second Beginnings

Since turning his gaze to Mencius, Kahlyn's life and purpose had new
meaning. He did not like the fact he had chosen so quickly, but at least he
now understood himself on a deeper level. He had given into his thirst for
vengeance and the rage that beat beneath the surface, like a heartbeat, and
while it took a moment, he had finally reached his true path. He glanced
around the Obsidian Altar with a slight smile on his face. "I want to
play," he whispered.

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Mon Nov 14 11:19:16 2016

Writer: Kaelowyth

Date Mon Nov 14 18:52:56 2016

To All Marcaus Valanthiriel ( Necrucifer Religion Roleplay )

Subject Inside

Memories came more and more hazily to the Elf as his life dragged on.
Even by Elven standards, he was long-lived and due to the events of his past
- he knew nothing would change with respect to that in the near future. It
was as if his mind were still keen, but simply had too *much* to sift

Loves once loved and once scorned.

Alliances and Wars forged and destroyed.

Lives lived and deaths - well he supposed that was the true sticking point.

Yet throughout All of the haze, there was a single memory which shined
brighter than the rest. Visions of a great tree - perhaps symbolic -
perhaps not, where the souls of a few brave or perhaps simply fool-hearty
gave of themselves to ensure the place of generations to come. Such left
the Elf paying a heavy price, one he had not paid willingly. Perhaps, in
retrospect it -was- that price which slowly nursed the tiny mote of rage,
the dull ache of Darkness within the Elf's heart.

As the years passed, the mote grew, keeping the Elf constant company even
when friends, lovers, deities came and went. It provided comfort when he
was coerced, when he was lost, when he had given of himself wholly and
completely. It knew him intimately, as no other even had - for it knew all
of those memories, All of those hardships, All of those wants and needs.

In time it wasn't even a different entity from the Elf, it was simply who he
was. Gone were the days of passionate dancing and hunting. Gone were the
nights of wooing courtesans with poetry and praise. In their place was
hardness. Knowledge that All meant nothing, save for his own ends. Or was
that it? What of "King and Country"? What of his 'other' constant
companion, who saw him through thick and thin? Did they not count? Did
they not deserve his loyalty?

Exigent circumstances. That's how the Elf justified his prolonged slumbers.
It was easier to deal with matters of morality and ethics if you were
unconscious. It was easier to somehow justify abandoning your causes when
your only new cause was to sleep.

The peace of course, was impermanent and short-lived, for each time he would
slip away he would be pulled back by the inexorable tide of emotions: Lust
to be strong again, to be feared again. Guilt at leaving his partner.
Sadness at the way his life had went. Anger at the forces that had forced
it to go that way.

And perhaps it was that last feeling, the anger, which did it. Perhaps it
was All the perceived injustices piling up to tower over the Elf's remaining
shred of peaceful solace. Regardless of the cause, it was enough.

Enough to wake him. Enough to set firm in his mind the path he must take.
Enough to rekindle the love, the hate, the passion, even the sense of

Enough to change him.

Writer: Kaelowyth

Date Mon Nov 14 19:38:53 2016

Writer: Zola

Date Mon Nov 14 20:18:28 2016

To All Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X Leaves of Flame X

The forest was burning, or so it appeared.

Leaves previously green were taking on the hues of red, gold, orange, or
brown and yellow. In the light of the setting sun, it looked as if someone
had stripped the trees of any such leaves and set them ablaze with a great
bonfire instead. For someone whose primary idea of beauty included carnage,
bloodshed, and destruction, even the Deathscythe found his gaze lingering on
the sight of the autumn leaves coming in.

Of course, their coming was also of interest to him because of what they

The days were growing shorter, and the evenings longer. The shadows
stretched long as darkness descended across the world. Slowly, subtly,
almost imperceivably working its way into the hearts, minds, and souls of
the people of the world. Slowly seeping into the foundation of existence

The Darkest Day of the Year was coming. The Longest Night. A hallowed time
when All of the pantheon, not just Fatale but His father as well, the Master
of Darkness, was most keenly felt in the mortal realm.

Normally, Zola would leave such matters to the Cardinal, as he had in
previous years, but it had been some time since he had seen his old mentor
Liviya. He would have to take up her role instead, and organize matters
himself. Which meant he had a lot to do.

Turning to depart the forest glad, Zola spotted a single small tree that,
for some reason, had yet to shed its green leaves, though they had started
to brown and wither. Not well enough for his taste, he tossed a hellflame
aside casually, setting it ablaze as he slipped into the shadows and smoke,
vanishing back to his lair to continue his work.

Writer: Kaelowyth

Date Tue Nov 15 11:34:08 2016

To All ( Marcaus Valanthiriel Necrucifer Religion Roleplay )

Subject Duality

It started the last time he slumbered, though not in any meaningful way.
There was no fanfare, no great and noticeable change. Simply a gentle
transition that was centuries in the making, and as many do not notice the
subtle shifts in the earth beneath them, so too did the Elf not notice the
changes within.

It was as though he could finally -feel- again, the decades and centuries of
scouring away traces of emotion, of the feelings attached to a lifetime's
worth of memories were no longer faint imprints but vibrant portraits. His
dreams twisted wildly out of his grasp, forcing him to see All that ever
was, one last time. It was just that of course, a dream. He had never put
faith in dreams, for they were a product of indigestion or weaknesses of the
mind. And so, as the Elf stirred to consciousness, the anxiety passed and
he was once more in control.

He saw the familiar ceiling of his sanctuary, the stark and frothy blue
northern ocean outside his windows, and - was he still dreaming? Where for
countless days and nights before, he alone had laid his head upon the
fur-covered slab of marble that served as his bed, there was now another. A
familiar face, for once unbound by the harshness of life and looking at
peace. For All of that face's tranquility, the Elf's panic began to rise.
What had happened? How had this come to be? What had changed so quickly
and yet so subtly that he had not been able to catch it?

Shaking, he rose to find a mirror - the device a far cry from the one had so
dotingly used before, only to see there was nothing amiss. Staring back at
him was the same, youthful features that had always been. The same deep and
ancient gaze fixed to a point that could pierce lead. How then, why then...
Did he -feel- different? Why did the face that stare back at him -look-
right but -feel- wrong?

"I am Kaelowyth. I am the Oathbreaker, the Champion, the lord of this land.
I am Eternal. "

The words came unbidden from his lips, repeated quietly as if his own
personal mantra. Each utterance of which drove the anxiety away and focused
his mind on the image of himself. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was out of
place. His companion was one he had known for ages, and he owed her much.
She had been at his side, she had never relented, never gave up on him. She
was why he was awake now. All was well.

Setting the mirror down, the Elf turned away and back towards the cold slab
of rock that seemed far more welcoming now. He lay down next to the
familiar form and closed his eyes.

All was well.

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Tue Nov 15 16:07:45 2016

To All Austinian Mercerion Immortal RP ( Cliath )

Subject And the torch grows brighter

Gwyn sat in the Church of Austinian, thumbing through her journal and
writing in it as she waited. Waiting was something she did a lot of these
days. This time she was waiting for the Lord Crown of Knighthood as she had
asked him earlier in the day if they could speak, that she would like to
learn from him.

She nervously flipped through the journal. Why was she nervous? She was
eager to learn All she could about Austinian and All the Gods of the light.
All of this though was like bearing her inner most soul for All the world to
scrutinize, it was raw and rough but so was the forging of anything new.

"What do the Tenets mean to you? Not what they say, what they mean? " Lord
Crown had asked.

Gwyn thought for a moment, trying to find the right words, berfore
answering: 'Ye need ta know yer own limi'a'ions.. Nae bae greedae. A
simple life es a better life an et should bae spen' seekin' ta make tha
world around ye bettah. Ye should share tha gif's from 'im an tha other
Gods as ye cin. Bae an example ta those aroun' ye o wot tha ligh' cin bae.

"I am glad you mentioned being an example. To me, that has always been
something that I've seen in the Father's work. Something to an extent,
Nadrik picked up and spread to His fold, but with His own twist. The Father
shows us what it is to be righteous. To be good of heart, pleasant in
bearing, loving of one another. Kind and Compassionate, as a Father would
always wish to be with his children. '

"'ow do ye an Thas deal wit tha' on tha field? Bae some o em tha' would
tes' tha pa'ience o a God ah think. ' Gwyn had asked.

"There is a saying, that I like to hold to. Nothing can undo the darkness,
but the Light. And in this, Hatred cannot unmake hatred. Only Love can do
this.' Gwyn smiled at the Lord Crown's words.. She liked this saying.

"We choose to fight not because we enjoy it. We fight because it is the
last measure afforded to us, in the service we give. We are men and women
of the Word, before the Sword. And ours is a war that Steel alone cannot
win. We fight because of our love for All of Algoron.' Mercerion's words
struck a cord with Gwyn.. This was what she was meant for.

The conversation between the two continued on, discussing how those of
Nadrik's fold would be quicker to draw steel and less patient than perhaps
those of Taliena's who would likely bleed before giving up and counting
someone as completely lost. Why was that the case though?

Gwyn mused that those of Nadrik are task'd wit servin' Justice to those that
commit sins against the light and that because of that they would likely be
swifter in such. Taliena's fold though believe that one should love all,
even thine enemy and they would be slower to give up on someone and deem
them unsavable.

"What about Austinian's fold? " "Waell, ah would think et would bae per'aps
en tha middle o those ta.. Per'aps nae as quick ta Jus'ice as Nadrik's fold
bu' nae go ta tha ex'en' o Taliena's.. Becos while 'e would like ta see
those woo 'ave fallen en darkness sav'd.. Ye cinna was'e yer time an tha
gif's on those woo are los'.

"Wise words. What do you define as one whom is lost? "

This was a question that Gwyn dreaded because judgement such as that should
be left to the Gods, right? Perhaps. The Lord Crown had a simple answer to
the question, so simple that it caught Gwyn off guard. She was over
thinking most of her answers by this point and she knew it.

"Choice. " They weren't slaves, forced to commit the attrocities that they
did. They were willingly choosing to Murder, Lie, Steal and so on... Such
a simple answer to a tough question.

After the Lord Crown excused himself, needing to return to the Keep, Gwyn
headed back to Austinian's church to pray and reflect. This lesson had
proven to be very fruitful. It left Gwyn with a lot to think about and a
better understanding of how to deal with those of the darkness. The torch
was burning brighter and stronger.

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Wed Nov 16 16:00:22 2016

To All Austinian Thasgerd ( Immortal Rp Cliath )

Subject Truly Blessed

Gwyn sighed softly, a bit of a dazed smile playing on her lips as she
watched Thasgerd leave the church. She loved that man with every fiber of
her being. The only thing that rivaled her feelings for him was her desire
to see Austinian's will done, to see a world as he envisions.

Her heart had not lead her astray yet.. It had lead her to Thasgerd and now
that she was finally truly listening, it was leading her to Austinian. She
still had work to do and more to learn but that would never change, even if
Austinian accepted her. There was always more to be done for the light and
more to learn from the Gods and each other.

Looking around at the church for a moment, Gwyn sighed and then closed her
eyes. She let All the frustrations and expectations roll off of her and she
simply smiled. She smiled because she was blessed.. Truly blessed. No,
she hadn't been accepted yet but her life was good. She had Thasgerd and
the girls, she had her friends and she had amazing people from the light
supporting, guiding and helping her to grow.

She returned to the altar and once again knelt in prayer. She prayed for
the strength and safety of those that fought hard on the field of battle,
for those that might be feeling lost and struggling. She prayed for the
healing of those whom were sick and injured. She prayed for comfort and
peace in the world and yes she prayed for those who were in the shadows,
that they might seek and find redemption.

Once her prayers were done. Gwyn packed up her journal and things and
headed out of the temple. She had herbs and potions to gather and plans to
place them in pits or in the hands of those that could use them most.

Writer: Ruwen

Date Wed Nov 16 18:07:39 2016

To Abaddon Tayira Zola ( imm religion Fatale All )

Subject [The Operation, Part One]

The chamber was dark, and mostly quiet save for the soft sound of weeping
echoing off the stone and the occasional drip of seep water. It was musty,
tainted by the fetid tang of bodily waste that hung in the stale air. The
hollow clatter of old bones and the heavy grating of wood on stone broke the
stillness as a door was opened by a skeletal guard. A tiny flame atop a
single black candle illuminated the entryway and a small but ominous figure
stepped into the room.

The black voids of her eyes narrowed just slightly at the acidic bite to the
air, flicking about, searching the shadows. There. Sharp taps of her shoes
across the floor and she stood over the bloody pile of rags and filth
cowering in the corner.

'P-please.. '

A threatening tap of a gnarled looking staff on the wall near the thing's
head quickly silenced it.

'It seems you have survived. ' Ruwen did not deign to kneel to inspect the
creature before her. It had once been recognizable as a half-elven woman,
not unlike herself, but now.. It was a pathetic creature, now. 'Stand up.

The creature cringed, whimpering. 'Please.. Please just.. Let me go.. '

'I said stand up! ' Her staff struck hard against its face, her lips
downturned into an imperious frown. The creature cried out, clasping a hand
to its cheek as it struggled to obey, body quaking in fear and exhaustion.
The priestess used the end of her staff to pull up on the tattered shirt of
her prisoner, exposing its abdomen. An angry slash stretched from one hip
to the other and stitched closed with black thread. Inflamed, to be
certain, and quite possibly infected, but that was no matter.

'It's not pretty, but it will suffice. ' She was talking more to herself
than anything, seeing little more than a thing before her than a person. It
had taken a lot of work to get this far. She was satisfied. She was ready.

'C.. Can I go? ' the prisoner whimpered, pleading.

A dark grin spread across Ruwen's face, viciousness emanating from her
though her posture was perfectly noble.

'Oh, no. No. Because you are a success, I have something very special
planned for you.

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 16 22:09:45 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 16 22:16:14 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 16 22:19:12 2016

Writer: Zola

Date Thu Nov 17 02:22:09 2016

To All Ruwen Tayira Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X The Operation: Part Two X

Outside of the cell, an ominous masked figure watched, listening to the
sounds of wood impacting against flesh, to the pleas of the damned, to the
whispered promises of the vicious Minister, telling the prisoners just what
future lay in store for them. Wails echoed off the walls of the chambers,
and beneath his mask, Zola gave a vicious grin.

It was a daring enterprise his fellow priestess had brought him in on. He
wasn't inherently aware of the purpose, but it brought pain and suffering to
the enemies of Fatale, and how could he ever say no to such a grand goal as
that? Indeed, his purpose here was not as an executioner, but to prolong
the lives of those who teetered on the edge. Finding the half-elven women
post surgery and ensuring they did not bleed out from the crude
(purposefully) incisions. Whether they died in the cells afterwards was
their own choice. To succumb to the power of death, or gain strength from
the pain to live on.

It might have made lesser souls tremble, but the Deathscythe was not
repelled. Indeed, he was intrigued with the idea, watching with great
curiousity as the skeletal guards were summoned by Ruwen, clattering into
the cell as a pair and emerging moments later with their sole survivor in
their clutches. Any strength she'd had to live was rapidly trickling away,
like so many others, ultimately, she was weak. She would die.

Silent as a shadow, Zola shifted his grip on his scythe and followed after
the skeletal servitors, the half-elven wretch, and the Minister Ruwen.

He was most anxious to see how this All played out.

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Thu Nov 17 22:58:53 2016

To All Austinian Mercerion ( Immortal Rp Cliath )

Subject Lessons with Lord Crown (Part 1 of 2)

Gwyneera sat in the pew in Austinian's church thinking over the previous
nights lesson. It had been her second meeting with Lord Crown Mamoritai,
the first had ended up being a discussion on Austinian but the second was
about Nadrik. Of All the Gods of the Light.. Nadrik certainly seemed to be
the more stringent of all.

If Austinian is the kind and comforting father guiding us then Nadrik is the
switch, the sword, the wrath for which we both fear and respect that keeps
us in line. We love him for it but failing him is something we dread and

'What I would like to know... Is what you know of Him. What Honor, and its
teachings are to you?'

"'onor es a wae o life.. Et bae aboot baein' 'ones' an faithful. Nae,
associatin' wit those woo are dark or even those tha' act dis'onorablae.
Ets remainin' steadfas' en yer faith an loyaltae nae ma'er wot ye face. Ets
aboot carraein' ou' Justice an nae actin fer yerself or ou' o vengeance.
Nae bein' greedae, ye cin bae proud bu' nae arrogan'.

"A fairly accurate summation of His word. Do you know the difference
between Justice and Vengeance?

This was one answer that Gwyn didn't have to think about before explaining
that the difference was the presence and absence of emotion. Vengeance is
driven by emotions but Justice is unemotional.

She tilted her head and glanced up at the altar as she thought about
Mercerion's question, "Is it possible for one to bring Justice for a misdeed
done against them?' She had explained that she supposed there was a tiny
bit of a possibilty that some could keep their emotions out of it but that
it was highly unlikely. We would like to think that we could keep emotions
out of it but most of us could not. "Justice is impersonal, " the Lord
Crown added.

"THat is one of the biggest failings of His fold. Our dogged search for
Justice, and righting wrongs, often leads us into a situation where we are
acting with emotion, or out of personal interest. Because we are quick to
act, when Honor is breached, we must also learn to measure each action
before we take it. As you correctly put it, Honor is a path. A journey
through life. One that does not end, despite its toils and snares along the
way. We stumble, and we fall, but we must pick ourselves up, learn from
what tripped us, and continue doggedly searching the path.


Writer: Gwyneera

Date Thu Nov 17 23:06:53 2016

To All Austinian Mercerion ( Immortal Rp Cliath )

Subject Lessons with Lord Crown (Part 2 of 2)

Sighing, Gwyn leaned back in the pew and stared up at the ceiling. Her
mind was racing with thoughts about the lesson. Lord Crown had said
motivation was a key factor in regards to being prideful or arrogant. Her
father had always said she had surpassed his hunting skills, that few could
match her skills with a bow. Was it arrogant for her to agree with that
thought or should she be humble and disagree? Which should she choose and
if she chooses to be humble.. Is it for her or to look better in the Holy
Father's eyes? And if it was for her, was it prideful? She had told the
Lord Crown he was talking in circles.

Motivation. It plays a role in everything. It was one of the reasons
Justice and Vengeance are so closely and thinly separated.

"Pray with me? " The request had caught Gwyn off guard but she quickly
nodded and smiled. It was truly an honor she thought as she bowed her head
and listened to the Lord Crown's words.

Lord of Honor, Patrons of Righteousness....

We come before You this day, in preparation for our journey through life. A
life in which we walk the path, ever in service to You, and Your will. We
know that along this path, we shall stumble, trip, and fall... But we
choose to stand, Lords and Ladies. We choose to stand one more time than we
fall. That we may take to the path again, and continue our service to You.
May we be the Aegis against the Enemy, the Beacon to Light the way, the
Sword to quell the Lost, the Wisdom to save the willing, The Hand to heal
the broken, and the Heart to pulse life into Algoron once more.'

They both whispered their Amen and raised their heads. She thanked
Mercerion for both the prayer and the lessons. Before leaving for the keep
he told her to stand firm, that the path into a new faith may take a long
time to open the door. He said that some say walking through is the hardest
part, but those that do have never had to oil a rusted hinge.

It was a fitting description she thought. She'd keep on working on that
door till she busted it open.

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Sun Nov 20 00:20:02 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Sun Nov 20 00:22:38 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Sun Nov 20 00:24:33 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sun Nov 20 19:10:41 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sun Nov 20 19:12:40 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sun Nov 20 19:14:39 2016

Writer: Vahriah

Date Sun Nov 20 20:33:07 2016

Writer: Rezekir

Date Sun Nov 20 20:52:43 2016

Writer: Anathaelynn

Date Mon Nov 21 09:48:17 2016

Writer: Mercerion

Date Tue Nov 22 00:41:42 2016

Writer: Zola

Date Tue Nov 22 01:52:43 2016

To All Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X Mercy Killing, Part One X

On the edge of the Althainia Empire, near the borders it shared with
Thalosia, a refugee camp had come into being following the fall out of
several recent phenomenon that had destroyed homes and lives in equal
measure. When strange weather had unleashed acid rain, snow, mist, and
worse upon the world of Algoron, most places and people had been able to
weather it and move on with their lives. Not these. These refugees had
lost their homes and many their lives, and were even now continuing to

The sight of a group of Siccaran clerics was therefore a welcome sight this
week, as they'd come to help provide shelter, healing, and aid to people so
desperately in need of it.

The sight of the arriving Zola, however, was far less welcome.

Two young Pages assigned to protect the medical clerics immediately moved to
intercept the Deathscythe. With an almost casual wave of his hand, he
displaced them back to Althainia, far off in the distance. They wouldn't be
returning anytime soon, and his work would not take long.

Though frightened by the sudden display of power, another tried to impede
his progress, a young woman in the white and red robes of a Novitiate. She
threw herself bodily in front of an elderly man with a broken leg, who could
not retreat quickly enough from the approach dark figure and its ominous
scythe. "Sir, no, you can't come here and claim these lives! These people
are under the protection of the Healing Hand! You can't...!

He held up a gloved hand, silencing her instantly. "I am not here for them,
" he intoned, his voice echoing like from within a deep well. "The ones in
the far tent... They are the ones I am here for.

Puzzled, the healer glanced at the far tent, marked with a black X crudely
painted across the flap. It was where the healers were taking those beyond
their healing ability, those who were simply too badly injured or too far
gone. While they spared a few beginner medics to ease their suffering, they
had to prioritize those with a greater chance of living.

"You don't need to kill them!" She protested again. "If you wait long
enough nature will run its course and do the dirty deed for you."

He swept past her without a word, slicing open the tent flap with his scythe
and slithering inside like a robed serpent, beholding those who lay on the
cots before him. Mangled limbs, damaged skin and organs, blood everywhere,
and more prevalent still was the stench of death. The healers wore cloth
veils to ward off the smell, but it was prevalent everywhere.

Zola breathed in deeply, finding the scent intoxicating.

But he had no time to waste on such trivialities. Moving around the
frightened medics, Zola found one bed with a man not long for this world.
He must have been hale once, but now he seemed withered and decrepit.
Malnourished, Zola would have guessed, suffering from a lack of sustenance.
Doubtlessly he nobly gave up his food that others might have it. Such
weakness. Still, he clung to life, and Zola respected his tolerance for
pain. However, a time came when every flame must be snuffed out.

Writer: Zola

Date Tue Nov 22 01:53:25 2016

To All Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X Mercy Killing, Part Two X

"Who... Who are you? " asked the man, gazing up through feverish
vision. To him, seeing Zola in his plague doctor mask and hooded robe, he
must have seen the Reaper having come for him.

Ignoring his question, Zola instead asked simply "Do you wish the pain to

His own question now seemed woefully adequate, the dying man considered his
response carefully. He could feel the sands tickling through his personal
hourglass, running out little by little. With his life now measured in
days, if not hours, there was little value left in it. And looking back, he
felt he had lived a reasonable time on Algoron, done and accomplished much.
He had no real regrets. "Yes," he croaked.

Nodding, the masked priest laid his hand upon the man's chest and ended his
life as swiftly and painlessly as possible. He didn't even leave a mark.
His eyes just sort of glazed over as his final breath slipped from between
his lips and his soul departed for the Void.

Nodding, Zola passed his gloved hand over the man's face, closing his eyes.
"Fatale be praised, " he intoned


A short while later, when the Deathscythe emerged from the tent, he found
the refugee camp had been upturned, patients and healers were still in
disarray, and a small contingent of knights was coming his way, this time
their ranks bolstered with paladins and confessors, no doubt intending to
annihilate him for his heresy or some other delusion.

He didn't bother to spare them so much as a backward glance as he displaced
himself from his present location, fading away like so much smoke and
shadow, leaving the defenders of 'Light' dumbfounded, unable to pursue.

Not quite as dumbfounded as the medical clerics once they saw the contents
of their tent, All of the bodies laid out peacefully, not a mark on them.
Each and every one had seemingly been visited by him, not a one left to
suffer. The expressions of the deceased were calm and quiet, not twisted
with pain. Their transition had been as effortless as falling asleep. The
last time they would ever do so.

Writer: Fae'lin

Date Tue Nov 22 02:13:30 2016

Writer: Sierus

Date Tue Nov 22 21:08:50 2016

To Abaddon Zola Rohesia All ( Imm RP )

Subject The Bargain pt. V

Stretched out upon the thick, low branch of an ancient cypress, one leg
dangling and head resting upon his forearm, the boy rested in the fashion of
the panthers found within the swamp. Unlike the sleek predators, his mind
churned seeking to dispel or burn away the confusion the days discussions
had left him with. He had hoped to find peace here in his swamp, but the
scowl upon his face was plain evidence of the on going frustration, and his
ill mood was no doubt sensed by the many creatures which normally flocked to
his presence now absent.

Staring off into the thick mists, his brood was interrupted by the return of
a fleeting presence he had many times now sensed, but could never trace to
it's origin. Unlike the frequent shades and ghostly images he had witnessed
within the fog, he could feel this one, and on occasion partially glimpsed.
A swift, shadowed form man-like in shape, it's passage unheralded by sound
and leaving little to no trace in it's wake. The boy resented the
interloper for his unannounced travle through what he considered his domain.
Remaining motionless and straining his senses for any telltale of the
stranger, he fought to control his own breathing as the sense of presence
grew stronger. The faintest of creaks was the reward for stony patience,
though the proximity and direction, close and behind his resting head, drew
his eyes wide.

Turning his head in glacial slowness, he stared into the thick mist toward
the noise and the source of presence he felt so strongly. The shifting
mists ever so slowly thinned over what seemed and eternity and a dark shape
within resolved into what could be a man crouched and peering back through
the fog. Clad in rugged leather armor, the length of arms and legs speaking
to large size when not coiled as he currently was, the figure regarded him
silently and blue eyes locked upon the boy from within the vison slit of his
enclosing helm. The mutual regard turned into a battle of wills, each
locked in a stony pose, the sense of feeling the boy extended meeting
resistance which pushed back upon him slowly denying him from a true grasp
of the other. As he felt the presence swelling up in what seemed the
coiling for a lunge, the boy began to call fire in his mind and readied a
cast from his balled fist. A low chuckle passed through the mere 25 feet
which seperated the pair as the other turned his wrist, fingers splayed and
the boy felt the growing heat of his efforts fade like a candle snuffed.

Rising slowly from his crouch upon the opposite tree's perch, the tall
figure looked off as the fog began to coalesce once again, dimming the
outline. The boy rose to a crouch quickly readying himself for a launch
across the distance when he felt his ankle tugged suddenly, and he spilled
to the mire ten feet below. The familiar snickering greeted his rise
revealing the grinning imp with black hair coving his body and spindly arms
and legs. His anger fueling his reflexes, the boy lunged and bore the imp
to the ground, wrestling to control the imps wiry strength.

then cut off suddenly staring at the imp's wrist he had imprisoned. Beneath
the hair there appeared a mark upon the skin, bearing a shape resembling a
dagger. ".. How.. What does.." The boy began before the imp spewed filth
into his eyes and escaped his grip, vanishing suddenly to leave the boy
alone in the mire with his confusion.

Writer: Xiaos

Date Wed Nov 23 09:08:06 2016

Writer: Xiaos

Date Wed Nov 23 09:11:00 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Wed Nov 23 12:41:14 2016

Writer: Rezekir

Date Wed Nov 23 13:14:35 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Wed Nov 23 20:46:04 2016

Writer: Ruwen

Date Wed Nov 23 21:09:53 2016

To Abaddon Tayira Zola ( imm religion Fatale All )

Subject [The Operation, Part Three]

It had taken months of work to reach the desired result, though the
objective was simple enough. Careful planning and practice was required,
and Ruwen had relished it. She had the cooperation of Executioner S'tarst
and Bishop Zola, two of her most trusted compatriots. She would almost call
them.. Friends, but the emotion around friendship was entirely foreign to
the Miete woman. Her only sense of family was centered around her father,
and to a lesser extent, her brother, but that was her way. But without
them, she would not be able to accomplish what she desired.

Turning to the skeletal guards, she ordered 'Get this mess cleaned up, and
keep her under watch. I don't want her to expire before the ceremony.

Inclining her head to Zola, Ruwen extinguished her candle and left the


Working under cover of darkness was something the priestess was used to.
She found a certain comfort in the shadows, their closeness, their apparent
emptiness. It suited her. The shadows kept their secrets. She still knew
how to get around without the use of her eyes. She had been born blind,
after all.

She had been monitoring this particular village on the outskirts of
Althainia for some time, dressed as a beggar. Looking for the right victim.
There was a half-elven woman about her age who frequented the village
markets. A bit on the tall side, but she would suit Ruwen's desires. She
watched the woman's daily routine for two weeks before she made her move.
The priestess was nothing if not patient, not unlike a spider lying in wait
for the moth to fall into her web.

So now, she lurked outside the woman's home as darkness settled in, waiting
for her to come. A cheerful tune hummed and the scuff of footsteps on stone
approached. But before the woman was able to enter the building, a rag
soaked in a tincture of sleep was clasped to her face and darkness claimed

The spider had caught her prey.

Writer: Stevron

Date Wed Nov 23 21:22:57 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Wed Nov 23 21:32:44 2016

Writer: Benthic

Date Sat Nov 26 00:58:49 2016

To All ( IMM RP Mencius )

Subject Questions

After slitting the last Sylvan throat in the forest, Benthic gathered his
bounty and made his way back to the "comforts" of civilization. After
selling his loot to a rather idiotic man, he made his way back to his home
away from home, the Church of Mencius.

Benthic had been thinking on his transition and of All the gods in general,
as of late. What makes the gods who they are? They can die just as us
mortals do... But -we- must be tested? We must show our alliegence. Why?
Only the truly faithful are worthy of their presence.... I would know, he
thought, wryly. Yet, even those are thinning... So why do the gods keep
their silence? Why are they not presenting themselves to more people? When
do we give up on this foolish errand of prayer and faith before they come...
When do they have faith in us?

In time, even they will fade from our minds and new gods will be thought of.
A slippery slope, indeed.

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Sat Nov 26 17:53:39 2016

To All Hrentun Zola Kefkamasu ( Mencius Imm RP Religion )

Subject Ponderings

Kahlyn walked back into the Temple of Mencius and bowed to the statue of
Mencius before sitting down.

He had just learned of Abaddon's beginnings, thanks to Bishop Zola, and it
was one of the most interesting stories he had ever heard. He had never
known of the beginnings of any of the kingdoms and for a long moment
wondered why no one ever spoke of such a thing. He shrugged lightly and
refocused on his prayers, silently waiting for some kind of sign that
Mencius would embrace him.

Then he could focus on his vengeance.

Writer: Corron

Date Sun Nov 27 18:26:18 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sun Nov 27 18:28:38 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sun Nov 27 18:31:25 2016

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Mon Nov 28 00:53:56 2016

To All Austinian Arreana ( Immortal Rp Religion Cliath )

Subject Lessons with Bishop Arreana (Part 1 of 2)

The lights from the candles flickered in the church, causing the light to
dance over the marlbe walls of Austinian's church. Gwyneera sat among the
pews as usual, a quill in hand and her journal open.

She was reflecting on All that she had learned over the course of the last
several weeks. She'd had the discussions with Mercerion but she had also
had several discussions with Arreana as she was the only Priest whom had
stepped up to help Gwyn thus far.

Despite being a Bishop of Taliena and not Austinian, she had helped Gwyn a
great deal and made her delve deeper into Austinian's tenets and faith and
what it All meant to her. Their first discussion had been brief but Arreana
had given her an optional task of reviewing All the tenets of the Gods of
light and writing a brief, one paragraph explanation of them.

That had proven to be some what of a challenge, trying to condense and
explain the tenets of six Gods in one brief paragraph. Gwyn took on the
challenge though and did her best to explain how goodness was more or less
living for others and not yourself. That it was about being an example and
showing kindness, compassion, and love to others around you, about healing
and helping the sick and injured and about treating yourself and others with
honor and respect. That was the gist of it at least.

Their next discussion had been in person. They sat in Austinian's church
and discussed his tenets in depth, going over some of the questions that
were to be in the Holy Bible. Things such as, 'when would drinking alcohol
become a violation of Austinian's will? ' and, 'how might one lead another
to temptation and sin unintentionally? '

Moderation was discussed and how the tenets did not mean that one had to
abstain completely but one should keep control of their senses. What if
they misjudged and drank too much? They discussed owning ones mistakes,
learning from them and seeking forgiveness.


Writer: Gwyneera

Date Mon Nov 28 00:58:07 2016

To All Austinian Arreana ( Immortal Rp Religion Cliath )

Subject Lessons with Bishop Arreana (Part 2 of 2)

The most recent discussion had involved wandering through All the Temples
in the Church of Light. In each Church, the Bishop asked Gwyn to explain
what that Gods teachings meant to her and then to describe them with one

A single word to describe a God and their faith. The single word came easy
for some of the Gods.. For others it was much more difficult. Siccara was
the first and Gwyn quickly responded Motherly. Arreana seemed surprised by
this, saying that usually that word was used for Taliena. Gwyn explained
that her desire to tend to both the spiritual, mental and physical well
being of her followers and those of the light as well as her desire not to
see her children suffer was what prompted the description.

The next temple was Kantilles. Gwyn gave him the word generosity because of
his desire to share wisdom and the arcane. Nadrik was the hardest one Gwyn
thought, she was slow to answer because there just didn't seem to one word
outside of perhaps honor or justice. Those were too obvious though. She
chose patience at the time explaining that His followers had to have a lot
of it at times to walk the thin lines required.

Now though, sitting in the church and thinking back over the conversation,
Gwyn had another word that came to mind. Perserverence. This word fit
Nadrik's faith even better she thought. To keep one's emotions in check on
the field and remain honorable through everything, delivering justice as
required by the Gods. Everyday they continued to push through All of it and

For Taliena, Gwyn offered up the word unity because love was the one binding
force in this world that could bring people together. It was one of the
strongest things that Gwyn believed could cross the boundaries between light
and dark. Hope was her word for Kadiya which might seem strange considering
that the Goddess was no longer living. The idea of peace throughout the
world, it was something to hope for. No more evil, no more killing or
harming others.. Just peace. Yes.. Hope.

The Priestess never asked her what her word for Austinian was but Gwyn had
known immediately what her word would be: Benevolent. It easily fit the
Holy Father in her mind.. Big hearted, kind, caring, compassionate, good
natured. He just encompassed Goodness in general.

Sighing softly, Gwyn flipped her journal closed and looked around the church
quietly. All of her discussions and lessons had gone well. She had learned
a great deal already and hoped that each of them knew how grateful she was
for their guidance. One day she hoped to be a guide to another in need, to
repay the kindness given to her.

Writer: Trysarna

Date Mon Nov 28 20:25:41 2016

To All

Subject Spirit Walk (Part 1)

Trysarna sat on her knees in the tent, her eyes gazing into the small
fire that flickered before her. She'd been here for hours meditating,
trying to clear her mind and open it to the spirits. Agitation and
frustration had set in for the young felar and was evident by her twitching
ears and tail.

The sounds of someone outside reached her ears, causing them to perk up and
swivel towards the sound. She started to get up but stopped herself and
glanced back down at the fire and then around the tent. They had warned her
that bad spirits might try to come to her and that she should be careful and
stay in the tent until her guide showed up.

The sounds came again, but this time louder. Trys could no longer contain
her curiousity so she wandered out of the tent and looked around. She
followed the sounds, walking down a path until she came to a river. There
on the river bank sat a large black bear, munching on a large pink salmon.

The young felar froze and stared at the bear, watching it for a few moments
from a safe distance. She shifted her gaze if only for a moment, making
certain there were no other unexpected visitors around. Her eyes fell on
the tent, eliciting a sigh from Trys as she turned to head back up the path.

'Where are you going? ' Trys stopped midstep and turned to look around but
again All she saw was the bear. 'You are supposed to stay in the tent and
' Before the felar could respond the bear stood up and started to
walks towards her. It was at that point that she realized the bear was the
one speaking.

Suddenly, Trys was nervous as she took a few steps back and out of the path
of the bear, her tail twitching. 'Don't worry child, I mean you no harm. '
'I'm just supposed to take your word for it? ' Trys asked skeptically, her
eyes narrowing as she observed the bear.

The bear growled in annoyance and looked at Trys, 'Would you prefer I find
you a tree to cower in? Faith, have some. ' Thoughts raced through
Trysarna's head as she reluctantly nodded to the bear and glared, 'I don't
cower. ' The bear continued on past Trys, walking up the path several feet
before glancing back at her, 'Are you coming or not? '

Writer: Trysarna

Date Mon Nov 28 20:32:06 2016

To All

Subject Spirit Walk (Part 2)

'WAit? You're my.. ' The bear growled again and Trys simply lifted her
chin a bit and started walking in silence. The two of them walked along the
path for a while before the young felar noticed the change of scenery. They
were no longer near the tent, in fact they looked to be in her old

Trysarna furrowed her brow trying to recall what she had missed, they had
been surrounded by snow and ice before but now suddenly they were in
Tropica? Some movement in the tall grass caught Trys's attention, her ears
perking up as she tilted her head and slowly walked towards the grass.

Just past the tall grass a small village lay off in the distance. The sight
of it knocked the breath out of Trys but even that did not prepare her for
the next sight. A beautiful felar with light brown fur and cream colored
markings. She looked like an older version of Trys and exactly how she
remembered her.

Tyrsarna doubled over, trying to catch her breath a moment as the older
felar turned to her and smiled. She beckoned Trys closer and motioned to
the spot beside her. The two of them sat, Trys watching her mother mix and
prepare the many herbs and pastes that she had always kept on hand. They
talked as she worked, Trys constantly watching her mother and memorizing
every detail about her.

Time seem to be passing slowly, though Trysarna could barely keep up. Her
senses were in overload with All the sights, sounds and smells that she had
missed for so long. She followed the older felar through the village to
what had been her family's hut. It was the largest in the village. The
inside of it smelled so much like her mother that Trysarna could barely
stand it.

A few small herb pouches were shoved into Tyrs' hands as her mother rambled
off the purposes of each. She smiled at Trysarna and nuzzled her before
wrapping her arms around her in an warm embrace. 'Remember us and our ways.
' Trys closed her eyes, enjoying what would be the first and last hug she
had from her mother in years. When she tried to hug her in return, the
older felar was gone.

Opening her eyes in confusion, Trysarna looked around and found herself back
in the tent with the black bear staring at her. She sighed and slumped,
looking down at the pouches that were still clutched in her hand. They
smelled of the herbs inside and of her mother. The young felar looked up at
the bear sadly. 'Its inside you. All the strength, wisdom, courage, and
love you admired in her. Just look inside and you will find it and a part
of her.'

'Its time. ' With that the bear left and Trys was once again alone.

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Mon Nov 28 21:53:42 2016

To All Hrentun Zola ( Mencius Imm RP Religion ).

Subject The Debate

Kahlyn walked into the Obsidian Altar room with a disgusted look on his
face. The debates had been embarrassing to listen to. It sounded like they
were reading from the scriptures of boredom, the Bishop was the worst. She
skirted around questions and continuously stated that love was the most
powerful thing on Algoron, he could barely keep his focus. The clear
winner, in his eyes, was Hrentun.

He shook his head, momentarily, he had to remember not All were accomplished
public speakers and he had to admit it took a certain bravery to even step
into an arena of minds, after all. All he did know is that Lord Mencius's
word of rage had been spread to All the ears that were listening and for
that, accomplishments had been made.

Writer: Sierus

Date Mon Nov 28 22:54:26 2016

To Abaddon Zola Rohesia All ( Imm RP )

Subject The Bargain pt. VI

It had been over a week since he'd last seen Teller. Calls had failed to
bring his friend as it always had before though he'd sensed his presence for
fleeting instances. Fair enough, the young teen thought to himself, if it
was to be a game of stalking then so be it. He'd waited for that faint
sense to come again and moved off slowly in the direction it seemed to call
him, concious of his own noise and movements to avoid leaving sign as he
searched for any his quarry may have left. They'd played this game before
and he knew any telltale was as likely to be misdirecting as true.

The sudden snap of fresh greenery off to his left drew him down into a ready
stance scanning the area through low-clinging mists. It then he saw the
stranger, crouched down on one knee, idly twisting a reed between his
fingers with his head down. Siezing on his targets innattentiveness, he
burst forth and launched himself twisting to land a kick which was followed
by sword and dagger in the same arc. The expected impact never came as the
stranger rolled backwards on his shoulder away from the attack and into a
crouch with an axe in either hand held out to each side. There was mirth in
the eyes of the helmeted stranger who rose slowly, the blue eyes alight
within his visor, "No hesitation.. But no stealth either.." The low-toned
voice offered with a snort. Sensing the grin hidden within the helm, the
youth took up his attack once more, the adrenalin of anger fueling his
muscles. A rising slash of his sword was followed by a cut towards the
larger man's thigh, both skillfully directed away by the coppery bladed axes
with an ease which drove the lad to greature fury.

A sword slash at the stranger's head was ducked, and the dagger thrust to
the mid-section earned the lad a sharp rap on his hand with the back of an
axe head, sending his dagger spilling from his numb fingers. The pain
induced rage made the youth's attacks more desperate, tracing blurring
figures in each new slash the other simply side-stepped. Hunching his
shoulders he drove a thrust forward which was directed down into the dirt by
an even faster axe, and torn from his grip by the boot pressing down on the
flat of the blade. Over-balanced, the boot which met and shoved his chest
backwards to roll in the sodden soil took little effort.

Peering up at the tall stranger who casually rolled his axes in smooth arcs
as he approached, the youth growled through clenched teeth, "I'm not afraid
of you", as he pulled a small knife from his boot. "I know.. Believe
The stranger said slipping the axes back into his boot tops. "Keep
your weight over your knees.. And pay attention to what Vyasa teaches you."
The stranger admonished before turning to slip off into the mist.

Fuming at his embarrassment, the sting of his pride and a new source of
confusion, the youth ignored the cold damp beneath him taking several
minutes to catch his breath as his mind swirled. More than satisfaction,
more than revenge, most of All he wanted and end to the confusion and
uncertainty life piled upon him from All angles. Determination.. Fatale
commanded determination and that seemed the price and path to his salvation.
His sentient moment of purpose was then broken by the fistful of wet slop
which impacted his head, and the gleeful snickering which followed the
crooning words ".. Soon.. Yes, yes, soon.." As Teller's dark form
scampered off into the mists.

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Mon Nov 28 23:41:28 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Tue Nov 29 19:18:22 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Tue Nov 29 19:21:41 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Tue Nov 29 19:28:12 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Tue Nov 29 19:29:25 2016

Writer: Iocaste

Date Tue Nov 29 23:05:51 2016

To All Gray_Church ( Immortal Roleplay )

Subject Kender and Temples

Temples always had a different feel to them. Some felt comfy, some felt
strange, some felt majestic, and others just felt humble. The array of
words that can describe how a temple makes you feel are probably as vast and
expansive as the catalogue of strange things wine-lovers use to describe
their favorite vintage.

The Kender thought so, anyway, although it was just a brief thought that
happened to cross her mind. She happened to be sipping tea near a temple,
as a matter of course, so it wouldn't be the strangest of things to ponder.
Pondering altogether was something she loved to do, whether it be about
temples, or clouds, or, rather often, the strange allotments of small
trinkets and baubles she'd tend to find littering her bag, despite her
oft-stated claims of being disinterested in collecting such things.

Yet, it was this temple in particular that was most intriguing to the
Kender. Situated in the brush, just beyond her reach, and past a ruined
fortress decimated and ravaged by both time itself and the warriors,
scavengers, weather, and even the stray animals that came in course. This
temple was one she'd never been inside, yet at this point she felt content
with her knowledge of its interior, as bland as she'd been told it is.

Often, the Kender enjoyed the fine architecture of temples. The choice
between domed or cathedral-style ceilings, the brickwork, whether coarse or
smooth, the columns holding everything in place; she actually thought she
was a bit strange, especially for a Kender, to enjoy things like that.
Simply exploring the texture of a wall brought her some measure of delight.
Yet this temple, for reasons entirely known to her, didn't enthrall her in
that particular way.

The architecture was surely grand, at least on the outside, yet it didn't
claim her heart as other temples did. It was something else that she liked
about this temple, something a bit different. It wasn't even the temple
itself, but rather what laid within, the symbolism more than an actual
entity. She'd been told All sorts of things of its interior: that the halls
pulsated with energy, that a monk dwelled in its center, that the secret of
the temple's glowing eyes might simply be that "there is no secret," amongst
what could only be called a myriad of other details, many of them likely

Rather than any of that, and rather than ever focusing on those details
(despite that they'd capture her heart, were the circumstances different),
the Kender found herself admiring the temple for its actual intended
purpose. A place wherein people like her could devote themselves to their
art, just as one who enjoys forestry might devote themself to the woods as a
ranger, or one who loves weaponry might devote themselves to arms.

It was a guild, just like any other, yet it was the one she wanted to enter.
The Kender thought thusly while sipping her teacup, her gaze roaming over
the brush, rather than the temple: "So, I'll do my best." Her heart did
belong to her art, as much as it belonged to her home, to her friends, and
to those in the world who would ever enjoy her generosity.

And, with that, All thoughts of the temple left her mind, stored for later,
yet not discarded. Her attention shifted toward an amulet she'd procured
earlier, something she found in the arena stands while watching a joust.
She'd laid it out just in front of her on her picnic blanket atop the grass,
amongst a few other things. It looked expensive, which was probably
unfortunate for its actual owner.

She just tsked while gazing down at it, while sipping her tea.

Writer: Arreana

Date Wed Nov 30 10:40:38 2016

To All Dyaki

Subject Where the Fairies Are 01

/ It was a clear night, but it was difficult to spot the sky unless one /
| ascended to the treetops. This wasn't a particularly difficult feat for |
| Arreana. As an Ariel, her wings allowed her to soar above, the sky itself |
| being the only limit. She perched on a branch that appeared as though it |
| should not be able to support her weight, but her body belied its weight. |
| |
| Arreana was already slender, and would have appeared small when compared |
| to most her height, even if she stood taller than most human women. Yet, |
| even a human woman of her height and build should have weighed anywhere from |
| ten to eleven stone, and yet, Arreana, when last she had stood upon a scale, |
| required only six stones to match. She wasn't as light as a feather, but she |
| was light enough to perch on the branches of large treetops. |
| |
| How long Arreana waited there, she did not know. She watched the moon |
| trace its familiar route across the nightime sky, and allowed herself the |
| small, genuine pleasure of feeling the embrace of the warm tropical air. Her |
| wings were outstretched, catching the breeze and beating lightly as a |
| result. |
| |
| Unfortunately, All good things eventually came to an end. Arreana had come |
| to Tropica for a very specific purpose. The task would be difficult enough |
| without distractions and this, lovely as it was, was a distraction. |
| |
| Fairies. Though of distant relation to Pixies, Fairies were entirely |
| different creatures altogether. The tallest of fairies were a just barely |
| over a single hand in height. |
| |
| In addition, where Pixies could be shy or boisterous, Fairies were, almost |
| as if by rule, incredibly shy. Most people would go their entire lives never |
| confirming the reality of Faries with their own eyes. Fairies shared a |
| similar love of mischief, however, and, like Pixies, were beings of magical |
| essence. They could do All sorts of things that would leave even the most |
| learned in the Conclave scratching their heads. |
| |
| It happened that Arreana had seen fairies a number of times and in a |
| number of places. Unlike Pixies, Fairies were ambivalent about cold or heat, |
| and they could be found on every continent and in every environment on |
| Algoron. However, Fairies preferred places far away from the bustle of |
| cities and people. Icewall and Tropica were the two continents with the |
| largest Fairy populations, followed by Shokono. |
| |
| Tropica was where Arreana had grown up, and where almost All of her Fairy |
| encounters had taken place. Though coming home was always bittersweet, the |
| quest to find her flighty friends kindled in her a sense of intense hope, |
\ like a stack of logs finally catching fire. \

Writer: Kahlyn

Date Wed Nov 30 19:06:14 2016

To All Hrentun Zola ( Mencius Imm RP Religion )

Subject The Caravan.

Kahlyn stepped back from the carnage at the small campfire and nodded his
head in appreciation. The times before, in the hamlet and in the tents
served his rage without him realizing... This time, there was no poison, no
disease, there was blood.

Kahlyn had wandered upon a caravan of travelers, All spouting words of love
and such nonsense. He had stayed his hand, mostly because he was hungry and
they were about to serve food, but to see what -they- had to say about love.
The same old things were stated: love is All powerful, love can save, love
can lead you to a better life. Clearly, love did not save them, however it
did lead them to a better place.

Kahlyn looked around, searching for hiding people and came upon an elderly
man. The elderly man begged for his life and swore his devotion to Kahlyn,
all while hiding the symbol of Taliena from him.

"You deny your faith out of fear, old man?" Kahlyn demanded, almost
laughing. "Are All you this weak? You know this makes you a liar." Kahlyn
raised his staff and brought it down on both knees of the elderly man with a
sick pop and then swung it hard into the temple of the elderly man, ending
his life.

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Wed Nov 30 21:05:41 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Wed Nov 30 21:05:45 2016

To Gray_Church ( All Roleplay )

Subject Lesson one - "Gold to a cat" (Epilogue)

Nothing made sense to the Wemic, everything had gone so wrong, so
quickly. It was almost too similar to his exodus from the pridelands, the
feeling of being utterly alone and utterly vulnerable. A simple creature,
he simply could not understand how words could mean one thing to one person,
and another thing to a different person. He could not understand how he
still was unable to integrate to the society of the outlanders.

Belatedly, he realized that might not matter any more - for the life he had
was assuredly gone for good. There was no way to return to it, there was no
way to forget All that he had learned, All that he had said, All that he had
felt. His instinct had been to flee, but that was simply instinct. He had
no idea of where to go, or what he would do, and so his body simply carried
him forward. From dusty road to carefully laid cobblestones, and then
finally to ancient and well-worn wood. When a voice asked him if he was
ready to go, All he could do was dumbly nod - the Wemic unable to find his

Days and nights passed and he could not be sure if he had eaten or if he had
simply lurched from one hour to the next. All he knew is that after what
felt like an eternity in self-imposed purgatory, he finally saw a familiar
sight. Sea gave way to sweeping cliffsides and verdant greenery, the scents
of salt and fish gave way to cherry blossom and cedar. He had returned to
the only place he could - a place where he did not matter, where none would
find him. He had returned to Shokono.

Still in a daze, the Wemic departed from the ship with little more than the
belongings he could carry. He wandered slowly, burdened by a heavy heart
and lack of sustenance, but surely. The steps were almost familiar, and he
felt stupid for not having thought of it sooner - but glad that his
instincts lead him 'home'. The thought gave him pause, just before the
final ascent to where he knew the village lay.

She had said they were a family. She had so quickly adopted her new role
and so quickly seemed to abandon the pretenses of him being anything other
than a simple friend and compatriot in service to the church. How could he
view them as such? How could he willingly go through what was All too
similar to the pridelands he left behind? To the land of Arkane that he had
left behind? He had thought it would be different. It was never different.

Paw after paw, he forced himself forward - each step carrying him further
away from the past and one step closer to the future. The village's square
came into sight, and with it, the familiar face of the elder. The old man
simply looked the Wemic over and nodded his approval. Nothing was said save
for a simple observation, as if such were All that needed to be said.

"Mu-ra-ka-ra, you have seen the truth. Your second lesson begins tomorrow."

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 30 21:54:35 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 30 22:00:23 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 30 22:03:00 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 30 22:09:14 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Wed Nov 30 22:16:03 2016

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Thu Dec 1 00:25:40 2016

To All Austinian ( Immortal Rp Religion )

Subject Who's Helping Who?

Baskets of food and clothes were carried through the square as several
clerics followed Gwyneera, both theirs and her arms loaded down. They made
their way to a house that was moderate in size and while it looked old, it
had a very cozy appearance.

They carefully stacked the baskets and goods on the lovely wooden porch
before Gwyn approached the door and knocked. An older matronly lady
answered the door and smiled warmly at the group on the porch. Gwyn and the
woman exchanged a hug, seeming as if old friends, and chatted a bit. The
sounds of children playing and laughing spilled out of the home, eliciting a
smile from Gwyneera.

She indicated All the goods they had brought and within moments some of the
older children spilled out onto the porch and began helping to carry the
baskets inside. Gwyn followed them inside, carrying a large box in her
arms. She tucked the box off in a corner for the moment and helped with the
unpacking of food and clothing.

The children chattered excitedly as they helped sort the items and put them
away. Some of the girls squealed with delight as they found a selection of
new dresses in various sizes. Even the boys seemed excited over the new
clothing. It made Gwyn both sad and happy at the same time.

A hand clasped her shoulder, squeezing it lightly, as Gwyn glanced up at
Mother Francine and smiled. She slipped her own hand up to lightly pat the
older woman's. 'Do ye bae needin' anaethin' else? Ah made certain ta
inclu'e some 'erbs an' things incase anaeone bae sick o 'urt. ' Mother
Francine shook her head as she watched the children, 'No, Gwyn, dear. We
have plenty for a while. Thank you. '

Tilting her head, Gwyn smiled a bit as she spied a small boy that looked to
be about three. She watched him as he played with the other children,
listening to their laughter. 'You need some of your own, ' Gwyn laughed
softly and offered a warm smile to Mother Francine. 'Wae 'ave tha girls for
now bu' aye.. Maebae a' some poin'. '

'Ach! Ah almos' forgo' tha las' box! ' The highland lass returned to the
entry way and retrieved the large box she had carried in. She sat the box
down and opened it before calling the children over. It was full of various
toys from blocks to puppets to marionettes to dolls and carved wooden toy

Mother Francine picked up one of the wooden soldiers, as the children all
ran over to grab toys out of the box, and peered at Gwyneera, causing her to
blush deeply and shrug her shoulders as she offered the woman a silly smile.
'Ah 'ave ta do somethin' while ah run errands.. '

Gwyn took the small soldier from the woman and walked over to the small boy
she had been watching. She kneeled down to offer him the soldier and then
pulled a bear out of her own pack, offering it as well. The young boy
squealed with delight, hugging both toys and then tackling Gwyn in a hug.

She ruffled the boy's hair and stood up before turning to leave. As she
passed Mother Francine, she reached out and fondly squeezed the woman's
shoulder. They nodded at each other though neither said a word before Gwyn
walked out and headed off for another delivery.

Hours later, Gwyn sat in Austinian's church staring at the altar. What had
started out as a mission to help others had ended up helping Gwyn more than
she could have ever imagined. Now she sat here at a loss for words over the
events of the day. The laughter and smiles from the children and people
they had brought supplies and food to had warmed her heart.

The sweet children at the orphanage who were so excited about some clothes,
toys and food. The innocence evident in their eyes reminded Gwyn what she
was striving for, what she wanted to stand and fight for. She moved up to
the altar and knelt in prayer. The words would just have to come.

Writer: Arreana

Date Thu Dec 1 08:38:49 2016

To All Dyaki

Subject Where the Fairies Are 02

| To find the Fairies, Arreana had descended below the jungle canopy once /
| more. While Fairies could sometimes be found amidst the treetops, they, |
| like Pixies, did not possess the true flight that Ariels did, and preferred |
| their homes to be closer to the ground. |
| |
| In spite of the fact that their homes were more easily accessible, they |
| were not easy to find. One of the strengths of Fairy magic were illusions, |
| and their natural talent toward trickery and disguise meant that every |
| Fairy home was protected by a number of complicated and masterful illusion |
| spells. Even a fully-fledged Sorceror of the Conclave would have difficulty |
| getting past their enchantments. |
| |
| The best way to find a Fairy was by not looking. It was a lesson that |
| Arreana had learned early on, after her first encounter with the Fairies |
| near her home. Fairies were so incredibly shy that they would only reveal |
| themselves if they felt they could quickly get away and vanish before they |
| were noticed. This usually manifested in some trickery or another, but |
| sometimes a bored Fairy would simply pop into one's vision for the span of |
| a blink, and then vanish once more. |
| |
| Arreana wasn't going to try and catch a Fairy in those brief moments, not |
| without some help. |
| |
| The other trick that a younger Arreana had learned was that Fairies were |
| incredibly fond of local fruits and berries. What a Fairy enjoyed depended |
| almost entirely on the region they were from. A Fairy would rarely travel |
| outside of a 10-mile radius, which meant that even Fairies on the same |
| continent could have wildly different tastes. |
| |
| Where Arreana had grown up, among the Absaroke tribe, there were Blood |
| Berries, Elderberries, Acai Berries, Araza, Bacuri, Mangos, and Sun Fruit. |
| It was the Sun Fruit that the Fairies near the Absaroke favored. It had the |
| peculiar quality of starting out sour, but leaving a sweet aftertaste. In |
| addition, though it was not a berry, Sun Fruit was composed of one |
| prune-sized orange fruit, and a ring of smaller, blueberry-sized yellow |
| fruits, giving it the appearance of its namesake. The smaller fruits were |
| easily picked off, and provided a sharper sour flavor, with less of an |
| aftertaste, and it was these smaller Sun Fruits that the local Fairies had |
| enjoyed. |
| |
| As Arreana walked through the jungle, she reached out and let her finger |
| and wing tips brush against the bark of trees lightly. She closed her eyes, |
| but walked without stumbling, for even after so long, every root, rock, |
| rise, and dip were known to her. Arreana reminisced, her memory slipping |
| into play mode as she remembered running around with other Ariel children, |
| playing games of chase and games to test one another's flying skill. She |
\ opened her eyes, looking around quietly. This would always be home. \

Writer: Bogg

Date Thu Dec 1 10:10:42 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Thu Dec 1 16:03:48 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Thu Dec 1 22:34:19 2016

To Gray_Church All ( Roleplay )

Subject Lesson two - "After the rain, earth hardens."

The Wemic awoke to a peal of thunder, almost felt in his very bones due
to the complete lack of insulation. No longer was he a sluggish waker,
content to languidly greet the day - instead he was instantly on edge and
ready. The weather outside seemed to taunt him, a constant reminder of
everything he positively hated: It was pouring rain, the sort that turned
all but the most solid of dirt into nothing but muddy mire that clung to his
fur long after he had dried himself off.

Shokono increasingly appeared to be no place for his kind, yet he could not
deny it had a rough attractiveness to it. Here he was an outsider, but at
least he -knew- why he was different. The lessons and drills did not care
though, and each exercise that was done by one, was done by all. Even by
the time his mind wandered to those thoughts, he was up and padding out into
the rain.

Already the elder of the village was seated upon a mat of woven reeds,
swathed in a cloud of steam from a large pot of tea and rice porridge. The
wemic detested both - the tea too bitter and the porridge like slurping down
wood pulp - but it was All there was. It was All he was supposed to need.
He sat down in his assigned spot - furthest from the 'head' of the circle
that would be formed and waited for the others to join him. One by one the
warriors made their way into the pouring rain, seemingly oblivious to the
harshness of their conditions and almost eagerly seating themselves to eat.

Breakfast passed in silence, the warriors believing that conversation
prevented proper digestion. With only mugs of steaming tea left, the Elder
abruptly rose to address them - a man of few words and apparently not one to
engage in preamble.

"This day, we are reminded of the second lesson a warrior must learn. Ame
fut-te chi katamaru. Murakara, you must find the truth in this before sense
can be made of the rest - just as the rain will stop and we will see what is

As before, the Elder gave an abrupt nod of his head and All were dismissed.
The Wemic often wondered if the others resented him, for these should have
been lessons they already knew - but they never showed signs of such.
Indeed, they All seemed content to meditate upon what they had learned,
offering no aid to the Wemic as he was instructed to find his own answers.
Firstly, he would have to think upon what the Elder's words even meant -
their language so much more difficult than even the Common tongue he had
learned upon first reaching the Outlands. His only 'hint' this time was
that it had been raining, and that something would happen when it stopped.

Upon returning to his abode, he saw his small pack was neatly packed with
provisions and a single chit for passage back to Althainia lay upon his
sleeping mat. He had long stopped wondering how and when the villagers
moved so stealthily, but he understood the import. As before, this was not
a lesson he could learn by himself and away from what brought him here.

He would have to brave his own storms, and hope that something was
discovered when they cleared.

Writer: Arreana

Date Fri Dec 2 08:04:33 2016

To All Dyaki

Subject Where the Fairies Are 03

| In her hands, Arreana held a small wicker basket, inside of which were /
| half a dozen Sun Fruits. She had already separated the smaller fruits and |
| piled them on top of the larger ones as best she could. In spite of her |
| efforts, many of the smaller fruits stubbornly resisted, filling any open |
| nook or cranny that they could. |
| |
| Though Arreana knew the jungle around where her tribe had once been, time |
| had an awful habit of changing things. She had walked around with closed |
| eyes only on pathways that had been made by her tribe, and which still |
| remained mostly untouched. However, the plants that her tribe had carefully |
| tended to had grown wild. Many of the Star Fruit plants had died out, but |
| there were also numerous new plants. It was as though she were hunting for |
| the first time All over again. |
| |
| It had taken roughly an hour's time to find the six fruits, where, before |
| it would have been a long search if it took a quarter of an hour. There |
| were significantly less fruits in the absence of the tribe, and that caused |
| Arreana to worry about the Fairies. What happened if their favorite foods |
| disappeared? Did they have to find something else to eat? Would they leave? |
| Then there was the unthinkable thought, would they starve? |
| |
| Arreana's search for a Fairy became more urgent than for the Star Fruit. |
| The only problem being that the best way to find them was to NOT look for |
| them. It took All of Arreana's self-control to not go peeking around and, |
| instead, finding one of the spots she remembered meeting Fairies before and |
| sitting down, with the Star Fruit available and visible. |
| |
| There was no expectation for when a Fairy might show up. Unfortunately, |
| the worry gnawing at Arreana's chest also gave the sinking expectation of |
| a Fairy showing up at all. How long would she have to wait? How long should |
| she try before she had to conclude the worst? |
| |
| In order to mollify herself, Arreana took out a blank book she had |
| brought along and began to write. The Bible of Holiness was still far from |
| becoming a completed work. However, at the moment, Arreana was its sole |
| author, with others choosing to take the role of reviewer as their method |
| of contribution. |
| |
| The books for Austinian, Taliena, and Siccara were in their first-draft |
| stage or beyond at this point. However, Arreana had brought a blank book |
| because she was still attempting to settle on a consistent format. Each |
| book for each member of the Holy Family was limited to three pages, per her |
| own design. Arreana feared that if they were longer, that she would lose |
| the attention of the reader. |
| |
| Arreana managed to lose herself in her writing. Time passed quietly, and, |
| it was with great surprise that she looked up to find the sun retreating |
| from the sky. She prepared to gather up the basket when her eyes caught on |
\ a tiny orange figure. A Fairy. \

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:43:49 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:45:53 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:48:20 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:51:05 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:54:26 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:56:24 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Fri Dec 2 09:58:45 2016

Writer: Cassian

Date Fri Dec 2 12:26:46 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Fri Dec 2 19:45:42 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Fri Dec 2 19:49:41 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Fri Dec 2 19:51:35 2016

Writer: Rezekir

Date Sat Dec 3 02:16:22 2016

Writer: Arreana

Date Sat Dec 3 18:13:17 2016

To All Dyaki

Subject Where the Fairies Are 04

| Arreana blinked and simply stared at the Fairy for several long moments of /
| surprise. For her part, Arreana assumed the Fairy was a her, for she was |
| clothed in an orange sundress, the Fairy was simply sitting on the edge of |
| the basket, picking yellow fruits off of the larger Sun Fruits and plopping |
| them in her mouth. |
| |
| Simply watching in silence, it wasn't until the Fairy happened to glance |
| up at her that Arreana smiled. |
| |
| "Hello." Arreana whispered softly. The next few moments were critical. If |
| the Fairy decided Arreana could be trusted, she would remain and Arreana |
| had a chance of talking to her. If the Fairy became shy, she'd disappear |
| before Arreana could even attempt to stop her. |
| |
| The Fairy froze, but did not immediately vanish. Instead, she blinked her |
| large eyes, eyes which seemed much bigger than was proportional to the |
| face. Arreana noted that, in addition to the Fairy's pixie-styled orange |
| hair, her irises were the same vivid shade with flecks of a deep red and |
| yellow. |
| |
| Finally, after a pregnant pause, in which Arreana's mind considered a |
| hundred different questions and scenarios, the Fairy responded. |
| |
| "Hi!" The Fairy didn't open her mouth, nor did her lips move. Instead, a |
| tiny, high-pitched voice sounded in Arreana's thoughts. It had been awhile |
| since Arreana had last talked to a Fairy, but she had remembered this and |
| was able to manage her surprise. |
| |
| Fairies could speak with their natural voices, but the sound was so small |
| that it came out as squeaks, they had to speak quite loudly to be heard, |
| and listening to them was like listening to a Tinker-Gnome, trying to hear |
| through the squeaks and decipher their words. |
| |
| There were additional barriers as well. Most Fairies did not know common, |
| for when they talked amongst their own kind they used Sylvan, an ancient |
| form of Elvish that had long ago passed out of knowledge of even the most |
| scholarly of Elven-kind. Arreana knew from past experience that the extent |
| of a Fairy's common was limited to what they picked up from spying on |
| others. They could say hello, good-bye, and speak in a very broken form of |
| common, but preferred to transmit mental images and share their feelings in |
| order to communicate. |
| |
| It was an intimate experience, but one which could leave most feeling |
| vulnerable once they realized that Fairies could sense their surface |
| thoughts and emotions. |
| |
| The Fairy hadn't run. Though, as soon as she greeted Arreana, she went |
| back to picking at the Sun Fruit in the basket. In the ensuing quiet, |
\ Arreana considered how she would tell the Fairy what she had come for. \

Writer: Corron

Date Sat Dec 3 19:07:13 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sat Dec 3 19:11:38 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sat Dec 3 19:14:05 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sat Dec 3 19:16:39 2016

Writer: Corron

Date Sat Dec 3 19:19:48 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Sat Dec 3 23:15:23 2016

To Gray_Church All ( Roleplay )

Subject Lesson Two - "After the rain, earth hardens" (Epilogue)

As soon as the calls from the crows-nest sounded, the Wemic was plunged
into self-doubt. He did not -want- to return, he had in fact vowed to
himself that he would not, so-as to never find himself in the same situation
again and yet here he was. His guts felt as though an ice cold ball of lead
sat within them, hearing the calls more clearly now as if counting down the
minutes until he would be back in the lands of Althainia.

Time seemed to pass too quickly as the dock came into view and it felt like
mere moments until his paws set themselves down atop the weathered dock. He
could almost hear the greetings, made All the more painful by how they'd
surely be delivered - and for a moment he almost wanted to just turn around
and get back on the boat, to give up. The faces of the warriors swam into
his vision, lead by the elder, shaking their heads disappointedly at him.
No, he had to do this. He had to trust in -something-, and that was just
going to have to be that this lesson would mean something.

And so it went, the Wemic steeled himself as though preparing to wade into
battle. He strode down that familiar path, resisting the urge to simply
turn back at each mental landmark until at long last, he had passed from
barren desert surroundings to rolling hills and prairie-land. In the
distance, his destination almost seemed to loom - looking so different from
the first time he had seen it. It seemed an eternity ago, even though it
couldn't be: He remembers the warmth that lured him there, the orderly
arrangement of every single adornment, the peace that overtook All of his
shame and sadness. Now however, it was very different.

He noticed how squat and sterile it looked, how just a few miles away
battles were waged constantly - creating a constant din of bloodshed, and
lastly - the warmth seemed to be replaced with a sullen chill. He had no
desire to return to those surroundings, he had no desire to confront what he
left behind, yet he knew he had to. He knew it surely then, the Elder had
sent him here to force his wounds to heal. For just like the earth that was
turned to mud in a heavy rain, he would grow stronger and more resilient
after it passed. Feelings would be tamped down, memories would only serve
to push him harder.

The wemic was already walking down the well-trod path, coming to its
entrance when a familiar voice called out a greeting to him - like the
claxon heralding impending despair and doom. He had not prepared himself,
and that sweet voice cut through him to his core, weakening the Wemic enough
to almost fall to his knees. He did his best to remain silent, to swallow
the anger and the thoughts that raced through his mind like a courser or a
fox-hound seeking its prey.

How could it be like this? How could everyone just pretend nothing had
happened? How insignificant -was- he, that life just carried on?

Like one of the great waves that assailed the ship he had just been on, the
emotions crashed upon him and bore him out. Mechnically, he managed a
respectful bow, his form trembling with the strain. She continued to speak:
Praises for the work he did, things he would need to do, All things that
just seemed so far away. He dumbly nodded and began to pad past her, doing
his best to keep focused on that single mantra that kept him whole. It
echoed in his head and soon it drowned everything else out, even as he
managed to find the familiar cot of his, not noting how it had been smoothed
and prepared, how it was almost clear everyone had expected him back. How
he was just a petulant little cub. Throughout All of it, that mantra
provided something to cling to.

"After the rain, earth hardens. It is raining. It is raining. It will
stop. You -will- be stronger. Next time it won't hurt as much. It
will pass. It will end."

And with that, the Wemic managed to fall asleep - back in the temple, as
though he had never left.

Writer: Arreana

Date Sun Dec 4 08:45:52 2016

To All Dyaki

Subject Where the Fairies Are 05

| The silence was almost perfect. Arreana watched the Fairy pick at the Sun /
| Fruit as she mused. The bond between a Fairy and its home was, as far as |
| she had heard, stronger than even the bonds of marriage. Somehow, Arreana |
| doubted that. Still, as she watched the Fairy, the realization that her |
| hope lay in a vain, unlikely dream that she could convince the Fairy to |
| come to Althainia. |
| |
| In the tranquil silence, Arreana thought about her life before that day |
| when everything went to hell, when Malachive had taken everything from her. |
| But the jungle had survived. Malachive might have taken her people from the |
| land, but the land was memory itself, and it stood forever in defiance of |
| what the false god wrought. |
| |
| "What do you want?" A voice, small and sweet, penetrated through her |
| thoughts. |
| |
| "I- I have some questions." Arreana replied, "What happened when- ... |
| -when Malachive came. You... ...the Sun Fruit?" |
| |
| This caused the Fairy to stop. She frowned a little and looked into the |
| basket, apparently in thought. Arreana caught her breath, wondering if the |
| Fairy would flee. However, the small figure just sat there, quiet, rocking |
| slightly. |
| |
| "So many gone." The Fairy responded, her soft voice like a whisper in |
| Arreana's head. "Some were taken. Others died...." The Fairy began to shake |
| convulsively. Arreana reached out to touch her, but stopped short. |
| |
| "The fruit- " The Fairy sniffed, "Some grows. Lots don't, won't grow no |
| more." |
| |
| "This is a sad place for me too." Arreana whispered after a moment. |
| |
| "I know- I remember." Whispered the Fairy's voice in Arreana's thoughts, |
| but now she was looking at Arreana, wide, curious, bright orange eyes. "You |
| want something. What is it?" |
| |
| "I have this... friend." Arreana tilted her head, her wings spread out |
| slightly and curled around her. "Like me, but she- she didn't grow up here. |
| So I... I wanted to find something from here to bring back with me." |
| |
| "Meaning me?" The Fairy looked slightly incredulous, though not angry or |
| even upset necessarily. "Why would I do that?" |
| |
| "I want her to know about it. About... our home, before Malachive defiled |
| it." Arreana felt a tear slide down her cheek. "She deserves to know." |
| |
\ The Fairy looked back down into the basket once more, expressionless. \

Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Sun Dec 4 09:31:57 2016

Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Sun Dec 4 09:36:44 2016

Writer: Mra'krarz

Date Mon Dec 5 01:35:13 2016

To Gray_Church All ( Roleplay )

Subject A higher calling (Part 4)

-Drip, swipe, drip, swipe, drip, swipe-

The sounds of too-wet ink and a too-broad brush were All that filled the
temple's garden at this late hour, even the Wemic's breath held baited
within his lungs. He was not accustomed to such fine work, his paws too
broad and his digits not agile enough - yet rather than infuriate him, the
struggle seemed to calm him. It provided focus, for he could see the
characters in his mind so clearly, yet each practiced movement failed to
paint them accurately, and so he would try again - and again.

It was but one of several activities the warriors had insisted he learn -
for a true warrior was not just one who could fight in battle, but rather
one whose body and mind were both perfectly tuned to the harmonies of the
world. At rest one moment, in motion the next. Such could not be
accomplished, they told him, if the mind was sluggish and unfocused. In the
grand scheme of things, he supposed this was more enjoyable than some things
- he certainly did not enjoy trying to puzzle out the meaning behind cryptic
sayings, for it just made him feel stupid. He already had difficulty with
their tongue, but the way they spoke and how they seemed so ready and
willing to believe such simply infuriated him.

-Drip, swipe, swipe-

One mistake followed by another. There was symbolism in that perhaps, but
eventually as he practiced each form, he would improve. He would compensate
for his own differences, and even if it was not the way the others did
things - it was *his* way, and it produced a similar result. He knew that
wouldn't be good enough in the end, but for now - it helped to calm him. It
helped to push out the memories of the conversations everyone seemed so
intent on having with him. Was he okay? Was he happy? What was wrong?

-Drip, swipe, drip, swipe-

Better this time, but rushed - as though just thinking about those words
caused the Wemic distress. Of course he was not happy, plenty was wrong -
but was he okay? What did -that- matter? The Furless seemed so focused on
*fixing* things, perhaps that was the real problem. Too much focus on the
here and now. Still, such a thought did not comfort the wemic and his mind
immediately flit back to the last exercise the elder had forced upon him
before he was sent back to the temple. Those words along with the
repetative movements *did* seem to comfort him, or perhaps simply served as
a panacea.

"You must see All the suffering of the world as black smoke. Take it in.
Absorb it. All the rage, All the anger, All the sadness. Breathe it in.
It is yours now. Breathe out white light, rid yourself of your own love,
your own compassion and joy. Give it to the world."

That is why he joined the temple, was it not? It was not simply for her, it
was not simply to escape. No. He was not that weak, was he? He did not
need to belong so badly that he would suffer for such. He wished to see
good done. He wished to see people protected. He wished to never feel the
fear, or the hunger he had felt in the Pridelands. That is why he was here.
That and nothing else. They deserved peace. They deserved happiness. They
deserved perfection.

-Swipe, swipe, swipe-


Writer: Talrenvor

Date Mon Dec 5 17:23:48 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Mon Dec 5 17:25:41 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Mon Dec 5 17:28:47 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Tue Dec 6 18:55:39 2016

Writer: Catroina

Date Tue Dec 6 18:58:53 2016

Writer: Gwyneera

Date Tue Dec 6 21:39:25 2016

To All Arreana Teimhnean Austinian ( Immortal Rp Cliath )

Subject Compassion - Part 1 of 2

The sounds of sweeping echoed off the walls of the church as Gwyn swept
the last little bit of the church floor. Once the task was done she put the
broom away and checked All the candles, replacing those that had burnt down
with new ones. With All the tasks in the church complete, Gwyn returned to
the pew where her things were laid out. She had taken over one of the pews
with her various parchments, her journal, and her writing materials.

She picked up the parchment with the Sacraments of Faith and scanned them
over for a moment. Gwyn had been over them backwards and forwards for days,
studying them and trying to sort out her own thoughts on each. She had
copied them into her journal, making notes on her thoughts here and there in
the margins. There was only so much that she could do on her own so when
Teimhnean had offered to quiz her over them and discuss them. She was happy
to accept the help.

Compassion seemed to be the subject for the day's discussion. Where did
compassion fit into the sacraments? Gwyn explained that while there was not
specifically a sanctity of Compassion, it did have a part in three of the
other Sanctities: Sanctity of Faith, Sanctity of Just Actions, and Sanctity
of Redemption. Teimhnean chose the Sanctity of Just actions and asked Gwyn
to explain how compassion fit into it.

Her explanation of showing mercy was an act of compassion brought on the
question of: 'Do you show compassion to those who you smite? ' She thought
on the question for a few moments before nodding and explaining that if they
were truly lost and the sword was the only option left then you grant them
mercy or more specifically a merciful end. The Emperor nodded but seemed
perplexed, perhaps still trying to reason out his own thoughts on the


Writer: Gwyneera

Date Tue Dec 6 21:43:16 2016

To All Arreana Teimhnean Austinian ( Immortal Rp Cliath )

Subject Compassion - Part 2 of 2

The discussion ended but Gwyn continued to think on the matter the rest
of the evening and the next day. So when Bishop Arreana invited her to chat
and asked what she had learned since they last spoke. It was the first
thing that Gwyn brought up.

She explained that she had been working through the Sacraments of Faith
including a few discussions regarding compassion and specifically if you
show compassion to those you smite. Bishop Arreana asked what conclusion
they had come to:

"Ah'm nae cer'ain tha' 'e came ta one fer 'im bu' from wot ah've learn'd an'
though' aboot on mae own. Ah think et comes down ta this.. Sometimes
people are jos ta far los'.. Words are alwaes tha firs' corse ye take bu'
as a las' resor' tha sword es need'd a' times. When et es need'd, et should
bae ta serve Jus'ice.. Nae yer own personal feelin's an' et should bae a
quick an' merciful end. Ah think tha compassion comes wit tha merciful end.

"Taliena calls us to love all, even our enemies. Through Taliena's love,
the salvation that Austinian provides is made possible. By that notion,
there is no one too far lost to be saved. There are those souls who would
be destroyed in their salvation, such as Necrucifer, his family, demons,
chromatic dragons... No mortal is ever truly lost. What does that mean
within the sacrament of compassion? And how does one, as a follower of
Austinian, apply that love to His commands? "

Gwyn though about Arreana words for a moment before responding, "Thar es nae
Sancramen' o Compassion specificallae bu' ah think tha Sacramen' o jus'
ac'ions covers this. Wae are ta try ta protec' all bu' Austinian accep's
tha' some are simplae los' ta tha ligh'. Those tha' are will bae embrace'd
by 'im once Jus'ice es serv'd. Ah think tha et bae an ac' o love ta cleanse
'em o their sins an' send 'em enta 'is embrace. Ye end tha 'old tha
darkness 'as on their soul. "

The Bishop nodded and smiled, saying that she would keep her own answer to
herself because she was trying to help Gwyn and teach. "So I hope it is a
suitable thought to carry with you for a little while, and to talk to others
about. "

Now Gwyn sat in the Temple, thinking back over the discussions and wondering
what answers others would give. She could guess depending on their faith
perhaps but then again not everyone believed the same. There was only one
way to find out, she'd just have to start asking people.

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Thu Dec 8 16:06:14 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Thu Dec 8 16:08:09 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Thu Dec 8 16:09:56 2016

Writer: Talrenvor

Date Thu Dec 8 16:13:42 2016



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