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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

Lost City: The Cold march
Scribpog's last words to the Del'nichi
Lost City - Honor, Valor, Pride (1)
Lost City: Skirmish and arrival
Lost City - Eastdrift to Shimmermist Departure
Lost City: Assignments
Road to War: Provincial Preparation I.
Road to War: Preparations and Jubilations
Remembrance III
Road to War: Visiting the Provinces
Lost City - Darkness Keep You - I
Lost City - Darkness Keep You - II
Lost City - Darkness Keep You - III
Eastdrift - Reflection
Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 1
Path to War II: Gryphonne Provice: The Arrival
Lost City - Preperations
Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 2
Road to War: An Unexpected Visitor
Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 3
Road to War: Supplying the War
Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 4
Lost City - A past prayer'
X The War against Chaos X
Road to War III: Hark, Knights of the Gryphon
Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 5
Silent Grief
Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 6
Lost City - Ambushing the enemy Part I
Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 1
Lost City - Ambushing the enemy 2/Final
Lost City - The trail ahead, leads behind
Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 2
Lost City - Fever dreams
Lost City - Shield of the Crown
Lost City - The Queen's Return
Lost City - Dark Memories
Lost City - Dark Memories II
Lost City - Boxed In - Part I
Lost City - Boxed In - Part II
Lost City - Boxed In - Part III (Final)
Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 3
Road to War IV: Unfinished Business (Part I)
Road to War IV Unfinished Business (Continued and Finished)
Twilight Ruminations
Road to war: Gryphonne
Road to war: Training in Gryphonne (Part 1)
Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 4
Road to war: Training in Gryphonne (Part 2)
Road to war: Training in Gryphonne (Part 2 continued)
Lost City - Leaving For Eastdrift
Lost City - New Arrivals At Eastdrift
Lost City - Shimmermist to Catacombs
Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 5
Lost City - Sow the Wind - I
Lost City - Sow the Wind II
Lost City - Shadows Linger - II
Lost City - Shadows Linger - III
Lost City - Change of Plans'
Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 6
Lost City - Dusk to Dawn
FOB
Road to War: An Unexpected Turn
The Road to War: Supplying the War II
Lost City - Roaring Sky
Road to War V: Words, Swords, and Vows.
Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 1
Lost City - Doing it right
Lost City - Weathering the Storm
Lost City - Weathering the Storm - Part II
The Cave - Part 1 of 2
The Cave - Part 2 of 2
Shimmermist Catacombs I - Necrucifer RP (Nehtur's view )
Shimmermist Catacombs II - Necrucifer RP (Nehtur's view )
Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 2
Road to war: Time to move on.
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 1
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 2
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 3
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 4
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 5
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 6
Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 7 (Conclusion)
Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 3
Lost City - Caveside outpost'
Ofcol I
Ofcol II
Road to War VI: Soulfire
Falling
Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 4
Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 5
Road to War VII: Daemonbane
Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 6
Road to war: Deimos Province and Daemons
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 1
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 2
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 3
Lost City - Friends in Need - I
Lost City - Friends in Need - II
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 4
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 5
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 6
Necucifer's Rebirth: Aftermath of the Cultists
Cold Comforts
Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 7 (end)
Malichi Necrose.....Out of the SHADOWS
Road to War VIII: A True Test.
Road to war: A True Test
Lost City - Friends in Need - Rescue
The Lance, The Lash, & The Eye: Prologue
Think of the Children
Feral
Storms
Mist
The Riddle 1/2
The Riddle 2/2
Song of Sorrow
A Garden Worth Tending
Road to War: Time for a New Lesson
Road to War: Lessons Learned the Hard Way
Road to War: Lessons Learned the Hard Way II
Failture
Words
The Red Queen
The Red Queen - Part 2





Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Apr 23 15:50:39 2019

To Rasavadi Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Cayenna Ampersand RP Religion

Subject Lost City: The Cold march



Cold. It seeped into his bones and he hated it. Tightening the dark
blue cloak tighter about his body he marched in line with the others. The
screams and wails of the nighttime creatures stirred about as they continued
their way towards Eastwatch. None dared speak along the route, for even as
warm as they tried to make themselves, they still felt frozen. With a
shout, several people up ahead called for the formation to halt and prep to
camp for the eve.

He closed his eyes, preparing his tent in the snow, and while he watched he
could feel something watching him. With a small curse he looked around near
the others who had gathered around him. A couple Humans, Yinn and a
Minotaur. No one dared speak still, one preparing a small fire like the
rest, and another preparing enough stew for everyone to have a small bowl.
Yet the cold was still there, ever waiting, watching. Seeping into what was
always his pleasant warmth. One day left, he silently reminded himself.
One day till the encampment.




Writer: Raimbaut
Date Tue Apr 23 16:49:27 2019




Writer: Scribpog
Date Wed Apr 24 18:38:14 2019

To All imm rp Kilvin

Subject Scribpog's last words to the Del'nichi



Guards slowly patrolled the statue covered section of the coliseum as
Scribpog snuck through doing his best to go unseen. He planted himself
against the statue of Dxutim and pulled out a copy of the Broken Parrot.
Scribpop kept his eyes on the paper within his hands. Each page of the news
spoke of the troubles that plagued the lands and the small victories that
Althainia had claimed. The flowers that grew within the garden, and the
trash that some janitor planted so he could keep his job.

Scribpog grunted and licked his finger to turn the page. The page was full
of great news to the bugbear, an article about himself being the sexiest
goblin to run Algoron and an award of fifty thousand eggs to the first woman
who could finally get him in front of the judge and make settle down.
Scribpog scrunched his nose and strained his body as he turned the page
again. This page talked about how well Maccus was loved and how badly the
world couldn't wait to hear another of his preachings. Scribpog nodded in
agreement with what he had read. Everyone loved Maccus' prattling.
Scribpog stood from his paper and ripped a part of the front page, his eyes
closing with the course feel before it fell to the floor. A moment later a
guard noticed him and began to barrel toward him. Scribpog dashed toward
the entrance as a squish rang out behind him, followed by the sound of a
sliding boot and a guard falling down with a thud. Scribpog cackled as he
made his way out into the busy night life of Althainia.




Writer: Vasura
Date Thu Apr 25 10:10:31 2019




Writer: Vailith
Date Thu Apr 25 11:54:06 2019




Writer: Rasavadi
Date Thu Apr 25 19:34:42 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse All Imm RP Religion Ampersand Cayenna

Subject Lost City - Honor, Valor, Pride (1)



Cold, he should be largely immune to it, but loosing his fur along with
the protective gel lining of his armor seemed to amplify it. Rasavadi dug
through his saddle bags hoping for a glow stick. A magically enchanted coal
designed to provide heat upon holding, and found furs. Massive quantity of
furs.

Looking up he found his sister, Eclipse's Guardian, tending to the wounded
from the small skirmishes that plagued their travels. Alongside her were
two of the new recruits Maccus and Donimas aiding in her endeavors. Both
were veterans to field combat, but each typically a lone wolf. They did
well, and got more cohesive with each contest, but they still had much to
learn.

Would they have time to learn? That was the million egg prize, did any of
them have time to learn.

Rasavadi bundled up in his furs, shot Tamaska a faked glare, and continued
riding.

------------------------

The encampment had grown considerably more fortified since his last visit.
The fact that a year had passed since any real involvement with those
fortifying it weighed heavily upon his thoughts, and shame filled him.

"I have become All that I hate in this world. Complacent, discouraged,
weak."

Yells could be heard from the sentries, "The Highlord has arived! "

"Highlord indeed. I've let us become what killed us the first time."

-----------------------

Looking around he found what he was looking for. His Keeper was walking
toward them. Most would look upon her and see nothing but youth and beauty,
as they always did upon looking upon All of elven blood except the most
ancient, but he could see it in her eyes. A certain weariness that only
came to those who have seen too much, an expression he would add to in the
coming offensive.

"Guardian, Keeper, round up those living. New and old, we have business to
attend to!" He bellowed. Not missing a beat Nymaya turned on her heel and
Tamaska spurred her mount. Simultaneously they both yelled, "Eclipse.
Report to the burial grounds!
"




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Thu Apr 25 22:02:44 2019




Writer: Rasavadi
Date Thu Apr 25 22:02:50 2019




Writer: Maccus
Date Fri Apr 26 05:30:25 2019

To Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All RP Religon Cayenna Ampersand

Subject Lost City: Skirmish and arrival



Wights... It was always Wights. Maccus drew has hammer and sword,
charging toward the rear of the formation with several others running
alongside him. Without hesitation he bashed into the first wight he saw,
knocking it down and away from one of the caravan drivers. He exhaled a
moment, bringing his hammer down with All his might to the wight's head
which in turn yielded to Maccus a very satisfying crunch. He looked up and
snarled, watching another wight injure one of those who had ran with him and
swung at Maccus. He looked up and snarled, watching another wight injure
one of those who had ran with him and swung at Maccus. Dragging his weapons
up in time to parry off a would be blow to his shoulder. He parried several
more quick blows, each one hitting into his sword or hammer. Finally he saw
his chance, dragging his sword along the wight's arm, cutting through it
like softened butter and clean off its shoulder before kicking at its chest,
knocking it clear down. Walking toward the wight he swung his hammer down
again as he did the first time and the satisfying crunch could be heard once
more. The small skirmish raged a little longer, the forces of Eclipse were
seasoned in this now, ready for the attack as they cleanly chopped down the
remaining wight's.

-----------------------------

Finally they had arrived the encampment. He watched closely as they
marched, noting faces new and old. He stretched and turned, watching those
that he could. The encampment was large, seeming more a fort than simply an
encampment to him. He noted several paths out of the encampment, pondering
which one would lead him to his goal. He waited as well, listening for his
next command when he heard the Keeper and Guardian yell in unison, 'Eclipse.
Report to the Burial Grounds!
'

With a turn those of Eclipse, including himself and Donimas marched to the
Burial grounds. He spotted Drapinamina moving with them, making a note to
himself to speak with her once the time came.




Writer: Ithelim
Date Fri Apr 26 16:17:27 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Vincent Nehtur All Imm RP Religion Ampersand Cayenna

Subject Lost City - Eastdrift to Shimmermist Departure


Ithelim stowed the last of his gourds into his cloak and grinned. He had
enough ammunition to take on an entire army. He has spent the entire day
brewing his potions, flipping pages from his book of recipe's one after
another. A pungent cloud permeated the area around his cauldron, slightly
obscuring it with brackish swirls of smoke. Needless to say, the area
around his cauldron had long been avoided by the others in the camp.

As darkness began to fall, Ithelim returned to his tent to finish packing
the essentials that would be needed. Rations, assorted adventuring gear,
and last of all, a few bottles of wine, tucked carefully within his beld
roll, filled his satchel and pouches. Lastly, however, was the most
important item. Hung from around his neck and tucked deep within his silks
was the source of the shadow mage's power, the Umbral shard. Warmth
radiated from it, almost too much to bear. It had been a long decision to
bring the shard with him, but in the end he could not ingore the fact that
this shard and it's power would be a force in which to help bring back
Necrucifer. His essence permeated through the stone and into the world.
His realm sat just on the other side of the thinnest veil, ready to come
forth, and Ithelim believed this stone would help bring it to fruition.

Tucking the shard back into his silks he called out for Nadia and Marion.
At once they both slipped into his tent and saluted. With a salute back he
took in a deep breath.

"Tonight we leave for Shimmermist. You two will both be with me on this.
We don't know what is ahead of us. It could be Ghuls or Wights or something
completely different, we just don't know. So be careful. Stay alert.
Should you see something suspicious, call it out. Understood?
" He
finished with a raised eyebrow and both supplicant's nodded.

"Alright. Get packed and meet me at the staging point in twenty minutes.
Make sure you bring both crates of ingrediants as well. I spent the day
brewing, but I want to make sure I can make some more if needed. Got All of
that? Good. Dismissed.
" With a salute the supplicant's left the tent and
headed to their own to pack.

Now that that was over, he was ready to proceed. Grabbing a bottle of wine
he left his tent in search of Vincent and Nehtur.




Writer: Draphinamina

Date Sat Apr 27 23:40:33 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse All Imm RP Religion Ampersand Cayenna

Subject Lost City: Assignments



The smell of death was All around her. The wights and undead in all
assorted shapes and sizes dogged their path and laid in wait for them at
every turn. Sometimes, she wished she had the nose of a human, then the
stink would not be such an ordeal to face day after day. She often wondered
if one could cut a corpse in such small pieces that it could not simply be
reanimated at the necromancer's next whim. But fight she would, until there
were none left.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------


She recalled the talk she had with Maccus. Apparently she was being
reassigned to keep the path clear behind as their army advanced. As well,
she would need to help scout out likely places to set up bases. It was a
good use of her talents, yet she did have a concern for the well-being of
the Highlord. He was one of the few who had the ability to turn the dream
of Eclipse into a reality. The cause could not afford to lose him, and she
was one who would willing give her live to save his. But she would do as
she was asked and hope for the best.




Writer: Nehtur
Date Sun Apr 28 10:21:01 2019




Writer: Nehtur
Date Sun Apr 28 10:22:59 2019




Writer: Vyasa
Date Tue Apr 30 18:46:00 2019




Writer: Mercerion
Date Tue Apr 30 21:28:45 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: Provincial Preparation I.



All throughout the streets of the city, Mercerion could hear the calls
and orders of sergeants training new recruits. The nine provinces of
Althainia had been on high alert since Mercerion had announced the intent to
go to war with the Warp. It was shortly after the announcement, the Emperor
made plans to visit each province, setting up each province to prepare for a
defensive war, as well as train specific tactics and combat styles relevant
to the war.

In this province, the Gate had been constructed as a border with Abaddon, in
the event a conflict between the nations broke out. Now, this particular
province was a militant stronghold, and was charged with the preparation of
shock troops. These troops would be necessary in the war effort, and would
likely see heavy action on Tropica. They had to be ready, which is why the
Emperor came here first.

He had spent much of this week working on cavalry charges, tactical
movements, and individual combat. He had brought much of his combat
training with Gareth to bear with the troops. It was a good week. Good to
be among the soldiers, to serve alongside them again. He could tell morale
was up, and even now the soldiers took to their duties with a vigor that was
absent before his arrival.

As he departed the province known as Cadia, the Emperor turned his sights
upon the fourth province, Gryphonne. This province may hold the turning
point, and advantage that Althainia brings into battle against All its foes,
and it was his turn to meet them.

Mercerion shook hands with the Major, and mentioned that soon they would
receive additional aid in the way of a former General, whom would come to
continue the training he had started here. This man was a veteran, and he
would be just as good for training, as he was for morale. For now, the
Emperor was on his way again.




Writer: Cieran
Date Wed May 1 18:11:30 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: Preparations and Jubilations



"Again!!! ", Cieran's voice pierced the humid air as he rubbed the sweat
from his forehead with the back of his hand. The line of Cavalry set off at
a gallop, bearing down quickly on the row of pikemen standing at the ready.
The sounds of clashing metal could be heard shortly thereafter as Cieran
watched the troops drill on into the early evening hours. As Cieran walked
the line of skirmishing soldiers, he saw a familiar face dispatched to his
backside by one of the cavalry. The fallen soldier smiled up at his would
be attacker, laughter falling from his lips as he wallowed in the mud to
find his footing. Cieran strode over, smiling as he reached down to help
the man up, "Are you having a good time Adhain? " The soldier looked up
with a crooked smile, nodding sluggishly "Aye sir, he keeps besting me, but
I'll get it eventually.
" Cieran noddded with a forced smile, "Aye, well as
long as you are having fun tis All that matters because your enemies
", with
a blur, Cieran unsheathed a dagger at his hip, swiping it across the
private's cheek just deep enough to draw blood," will love watching you
laugh as they slit your throat!!!
" Cieran released his grasp of the young
man, watching him fall back to the slop before turning to the rest of the
forces and shouting an angry halt. "You fools think this is some sort of
game?!?
" "Do you know how many boys and girls I have seen murdered in the
trenches? I have lost count of the wives I have had to tell their husbands
died bravely!!! I shall make you lot look into the eyes of the orphaned
children as I explain their parents won't be coming back!!!
" Cieran
levelled every eye he could see with a withering gaze before "Again, and get
it right!!!
" fell from his lips.

Hours later, well past the sun setting beyond the horizon Cieran yelled a
halt for the final time as wagon loaded for bear rolled into the camp
center. "Better, much better everyone. I am almost impressed. ", his eyes
roamed the faces in turn before him as he spoke," Now, just as important as
it is to remember the cost war comes with, it is equally important to
remember...
" Cieran turned to the wagon, lowering the lift gate suddenly
to reveal countless casks of ale and other assorted liquors. He reached his
hand into the back of the cart, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and
uncorking it with his teeth, spitting it aside as he took a long pull.
"what it is you are fighting for!!! You are fighting for your home!!! For
your families!!! For your brothers and sisters in arms!!! If we are to
die, then we will die well!!! With a battle cry on our lips and a sword in
our hands!!! Drink up you curs and enjoy life lest you forget why we -must-
win!!!
" Cieran laughed heartily as a cheer went up from the troops and
they surged forward, taking a deep breath and enjoying this moment, one he
had missed dearly.




Writer: Geirhart

Date Wed May 1 22:07:40 2019

To All Althainia Imm RP Religion Austinian

Subject Remembrance III



The old man and his grand son walked down the dirt road to the old
farmhouse. Memories flooded back from when he lived there with Juliana.
Sounds of children's laughter, her singing, and the music of a flute. He
smiled and ruffled his grandson's hair. They reached the faded green door
and he gave it a quick wrap of his knuckles.

'Hello? ' came a deep voice from within.

Geirhart winked at the lad and then in a very commanding voice replied,

'Open this door by command of the Steward of the Imperial Capitol of
Althainia! '

The door swung open and his son greeted him with a big hug and a wide smile.
Roderick had his gray eyes but Juliana's auburn hair. His skin was dark
from hours in the sun. They touched foreheads. The years of anger behind
them from when he had first left. They had reconciled last year and
Geirhart's spirits lightened.

'What brings the Steward of the Emprire to my humble home? ' asked
Roderick

'Well, I have a small bit of news concerning the World Games. ' he replied.



'The World Games? We saw a few well dressed Thalosians a while back. Quite
lost and looking to get to the Capitol. Don't tell me you were in them? '

'I was my boy! And All thanks to your mother. ' as he spoke, Geirhart
pulled out his silver medal to display.

'Talent show, I played the flute! Won second place! '

Roderick wiped a slight tear from his eye.

"Mom would have been so proud, Dad."

Geirhart smiled and nodded.

"So what is that amazing wife of yours cooking? It smells better than the royal kitchen!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Geirhart headed into the back fields, towards a large oak tree. It was no
Vallenwood but it was large and reached higher than any tree around. There
beneath it lay a gravestone. Kneeling down, he took the medal from his pack
and rested it on the headstone.

'This was for you my love. I know you watched but I wish you could have
been with me in person. At least silver was your favorite jewelery. '

He chuckled to himself and cleaned up some twigs and moss that had grown
around the stone. His wife had been a follower of Zandreya and this spot
was always holy to her. It made a fitting resting place.

Kissing the stone the old man began to walk away. A shadow flitered amongst
the branches and landed lightly behind the stone. With nimble fingers the
shadow touched the medal in slight awe.

'You can have it if you truly wish, boy! ' yelled the old man.

Smiling, the boy pocketed the medal and went to join his grandfather as the
last rays touched the tree's leaves. In the light, it was a shining tree of
gold.





Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Wed May 1 22:22:37 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: Visiting the Provinces



It had been a bit of shock to some of the soldiers at Cadia to see a
member of the Kyorl traveling with the Emperor but most of them had accepted
her rather quickly. Some of them were familiar with her background and knew
that she had once served as Empress. Still she kept to her shadowing of the
Emperor and did her best not to be intrusive when he worked with the troops.

When he spent time with the cavalry units, as she was little help in such
types of combat, she just watched at a distance. The Emperor though was
well versed in such. When she was not watching, she was working with others
on individual combat. She would not reveal the teachings of the song of
course. Her oaths were too important to her but she could help train the
soldiers by using it herself and letting them practice against her.

She found that she enjoyed the training and it was good to test her skills a
bit again. Humble as she was, it did bring a smile to her face when the men
were impressed by her sword skills. Her hard work and effort had definitely
paid off in that regard, she was proud of that at least. It had been some
time since she had helped train others and she found that she had missed it
more than expected.

When it was time to leave, the Ambassador said her goodbyes to the soldiers
and the Major and went to busy herself with a last minute check of her packs
while the Emperor finished last minute details. She eyed the steed as it
twitched and stomped its feet before offering it an apple, attempting to
calm it a bit before the journey. When the Emperor was ready they set off
for the next province. She hoped it was one that was less miserably humid.




Writer: Vincent
Date Thu May 2 19:43:26 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Nehtur Ithelim All ( RP Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna )

Subject Lost City - Darkness Keep You - I


Ithelim walked calmly towards the battle, the hooves of Nehtur's charger
thundering past him. As the horde of ghul advanced, the mage gripped the
unholy shard sequestered in his silks and called upon the power of Umbra.
From the darkness rose a host of gargoyles, their unsuspecting victims
brutally savaged before being dragged down into the pits of shadow.

All too quickly, the swarm filled in the void and converged on Ithelim. A
tossed gourd shattered upon one's shoddy breastplate, arcing a chain of
lighting to fry those closest to it in a grand display. Still they came.
Soon they began piling in and surrounding Ithelim, now a prime threat, only
to be repelled by cones of fire, ice, and lightning.

Cackling, Ithelim leisurely continued forward, wading past the accruing
bodies of murdered ghul, lobbing bolts of wailing darkness at those in his
path and unleashing gourds of wild magic when they drew too close. The
archfiend Xaran'xaxes followed in close pursuit, safeguarding his ward from
those assailants which had circled behind.

If only just, Nehtur and his small mounted contingency had succeeded in
carving a bloody path to the forge of Dae'tok, their impetus bolstered by
arcane artillery strikes. Under the waning moons' light, de Vere's
possessed form danced in and out of the shadows cast by the ruined
structures around them. Severing heads and limbs alike, he would oft vanish
before the ghul could realize what had attacked them, never mind from which
way it came. When Vincent did take pause, it was only to disorient them
further or to draw them in a desired direction.

The carnage was a beautiful orchestration of visceral synergy, the bond of
these few elite forged over shared years of blood, pain, and sacrifice. Yet
no matter how many of the twisted wretches fell, their numbers did not thin.
No matter in what gruesome way death took their comrades, fear did not route
their ranks. No matter how prolonged the assault became, their vigor did
not wane.

Whether it came directed by some unseen tactician or by way of what was now
their nature, the ghul were a tireless foe and their strategy of attrition
was one which favored that strength. It was only a matter of time before
fatigue claimed his mortal companions. Xaran'xaxes was quick to realize it
for, sharing this trait with the ghul, it was a strategy he himself had oft
employed. It would not work against this foe, whose only semblance of
mortality was their ability to die.

When they came upon it, the knights found the oculus shut fast. Claw marks
gouged deep into the spell-shaped doors, impressive but far from a threat to
their integrity, and blood both crimson and black marred its silvered,
umbric face. The ground before it was likewise recently disturbed, the
slick patch of mingled slush, mud, and gore a stark and repugnant contrast
to the relatively pristine, snow capped ruins around them. It was evident a
battle as grisly and grim as their own had taken place here, perhaps just
days before.

A pause came in the horde's assault, long enough to permit inspection of the
sealed entryway. Unlike the random streaks and splatters surrounding them,
blood of a very different nature and intent was splashed upon the wards
barring the knight's entry to the forge. Whatever spell or incantation
might have accompanied it was lost upon the knights for now. The who shed
it however, at least to the archfiend's discerning nose, was unmistakable.
Regardless, the forge denied them sanctuary at this time.




Writer: Vincent
Date Thu May 2 19:45:35 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Nehtur Ithelim All ( RP Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna )

Subject Lost City - Darkness Keep You - II


The silence hung longer than it should have given the nature of recent
events. Grunts and growls echoed from off in the distance, joined by the
occasional rustle of falling debris and skittering scrapes, yet no movement
could be seen amidst the dark. At least, not by the unaided eyes of men.

Deciphering the wards a present exercise in futility, Xaran'xaxes drew de
Vere's eyes to survey the black that lie beyond their tattered perimeter.
It was there he saw them gather. It seemed the ghul were watching. They
clung with ragged, bated breath to every crumbling wall and fractured
pillar, amassing within crumbled buildings, between the alleyways, and along
the night swallowed streets.

"Ithelim. Nehtur, " the fiend quietly beckoned his companions' attention
before gesturing with a nod to the unseen. "We need to go, " he whispered,
"Temple. Northeast road. Tell the men to spread word. Set off on the
count of ten.
"

The demon urged Nehtur to action with a press of the hand against the
knight's shoulder plate. Their mounts had been either felled in the fray or
abandoned in favor, perhaps necessity, of more nimble footwork during the
skirmish. To fall from horseback in the battle would have spelled certain
doom, wrought by the rending, stabbing, gnashing maw of the abominable
horde.

Would that they had known their intended target inaccessible. The charge
would have continued forward, or perhaps not commenced at all. Now the legs
of wearied humans would be tested against those of an inexhaustible host,
one no less comprised of aberrant yaenni - a species that, even among the
living, was reputed for its speed and durability.

A shrill noise pierced the air by the count of nine, a clarion call for the
assault to resume. Had they been waiting to see if these intruders would
access the forge? This and a dozen other questions pressed at the fiend's
thoughts but the time for contemplation had come to an end. Now it was time
to run.

Fifteen of Storm's knights, including the three officers, had started down
the dark and icy road littered with archaic remains and debris. Packs of
ghul chased after, flooding in from the alleys, descending from rooftops,
and clamoring out of windows. The clashing of metal, bone, and flesh,
sorcerous flashes of light, beastly howls and human screams marked their
trajectory, the way lit only by burning monstrosities and the effulgent
magic which ignited them. The moons were dim this night and afforded no
succor to those mortals in need of sight.

While the sprint could not have been greater than a hundred yards, it may as
well have been the Abyss itself standing between the knights and their
intended shelter. By the time they reached the cathedral's stoop only seven
remained. Enfeebled by age and splintered by the elements, the massive
doors violently swung open with a thunderous boom, easily succumbing to the
knight's adrenaline fueled thrust.

Nehtur led the survivors to cover, intent on dispatching whatever resistance
lay waiting within, while Ithelim and de Vere remained at the entry to cover
their escape. The doors, reinforced with iron as they were, would not
withstand their pursuers. Even barricaded it would only serve to deter the
ghul for so long. A more stalwart obstruction was needed and the ravaged
architecture around them presented an unorthodox solution.




Writer: Vincent

Date Thu May 2 19:48:30 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Nehtur Ithelim All ( RP Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna )

Subject Lost City - Darkness Keep You - III


"Ithelim, the tower! " bellowed the archfiend. "BRING IT DOWN!! "

A black-blood caked blade pointed at the intended target. Where twin towers
once proudly stood guard over the temple's grand entrance, now only one's
emaciated remains endured. The other, now a stump of crumpled stone and
fractured beams, had long since collapsed or been destroyed in the Ruin.
Toppling it would require an exceptional feat. Doing so in the controlled
manner necessary to create the make-shift barricade would be extraordinary.
Ithelim was not one to disappoint.

The shadow mage promptly engineered a scheme to appease his comrade's
request. Under the defense of his deity's progeny, Ithelim deftly pulled a
quivering gourd from his pouch and hurled it at the tower with All his
might. As the gourd soared through the air, time slowed to a crawl for both
demon and man.

Their anxious gawks abated only once the vessel found purchase, shattering
against the base of tower and so delivering its payload. Liquid arcana
seeped into the earth below, fumes of wild magic mixing with melted snow to
produce a pungent vapor. The ground began to shake feverishly, quaking with
lithic moans as it shifted and cracked, unsettling the tower's foundations.
As the dilapidated mass began to plummet towards them, Xaran'xaxes could not
help but to force a smile. Fate seemed ever in their favor.

Into the temple they fled, the ancient monolith crashing down behind them.
This time they did not stop. At the feet of Nehtur and the group lay the
slain bodies of ten or some of the creatures that greeted them within.
Their garb, though just as soiled, beaten, and frayed, bore a distinct
difference to the ones outside. Were these once "holy men"? To whom or
what was this temple devoted? Yet more questions that needed to wait until
asylum was found, if such a thing existed in this hostile place.

The knights needed no command to follow Ithelim and de Vere's lead, their
frantic dash heralded by quaking thunder and trailed by massive stones
plummeting in their wake. They ran down the center aisle, past rows of long
shattered stained glass, rotted pews, toppled candelabra, and disfigured
idols. Like a raging current they surged down the path of least resistance,
soon coming upon a wrought iron fence and the lightless stairwell which lay
beyond it.

Like the doors before it, the gate fell easily before the adrenaline fueled
river of flesh that sought escape from both the ghul and the ancient temple
crumbling around them. Down they went, nearly falling over one another as
every nerve and muscle fiber of their beings fought to avoid being crushed
to death. As the booming ceased and the earth settled so too did the
urgency of their flight, wearied legs straining to keep their weight and
balance as they descended the damp, slick steps.

Eventually they reached a landing wide enough to spread out on and, for the
time, secure enough for them to take pause. The dim glow of their
ensorcelled effects provided some initial light, the stone around them
darkened from moisture and riddled with opportunistic flora. By way of
spellcraft, Ithelim was quick to illuminate the musky chamber, revealing an
iron portcullis protecting another set of decrepit wooden doors further on.

Out of harm's immediate path, the knights collapsed for some much needed
rest. The air in the stairwell was still and silent, likely caved in from
above, and no sound came from beyond the door ahead. There was no going
back the way they came and no telling what was to come, but at least they
could afford a moment of respite. It was then the demon lord Xaran'xaxes
noted an unprecedented event in his long existence: never before had he
fought to safeguard the lives of mortals, not even his master's servants.
These were strange times indeed.




Writer: Nymaya

Date Thu May 2 21:04:15 2019

To All Eclipse ( Necrucifer Drakkara Imm RP )

Subject Eastdrift - Reflection


The simple harmonizing of a flute and a lyre lifted from the corner.

The mess hall was not busy, the long hearths burned low and she sat back at
the end of the furthest table with a quill and an old faded leather journal
in hand.

The tune was somber and gentle, not the sort of sound you expected from
hardened wardens of the Deathwatch but it eased through the cold stone
chamber, obscuring the soft scritching of her quill.

/The irony of the ages is likely not appreciated by many if indeed it is
noted at all. The aged and the learned see it perhaps but the histories are
not well known today. What Gohdam began in heresy, ended in faith. What we
began in faith, ends in heresy.

But was She right?/

The windows were small, thick and cloudy but as she paused to look up at one
of them she could see that it was again snowing.

Was true faith to be rewarded? Her quill stilled over the page as she
considered her own question. In her experience, it was not. The concept of
punishment and reward itself seemed flawed or misunderstood perhaps. A
mortal notion applied to the divine, who were clearly beyond such conceit
though even then her mind slid back to varied times she had personally
witnessed Godly wrath.

Foolish. The voice was soft, demonic, and it trickled with mocking amusement
behind her.

Pain erupted over her back abruptly, as claws dug deep into her flesh and
twisted. She fell forward, her hands gripping the table as an abrupt cry of
agony tore from between gritted teeth.

How do you know that 'this' is not a reward? Growling, bestial laughter
breathed vaporously by her lowered head that very nearly touched the table.
Every part of her shook with pain, her nails digging into the cold wood, her
breath a fine shudder that turned into another sharp gasp as the claws raked
free.

She woke with a sharp inhale, the front legs of the chair she had been
leaning back in slamming to ground hard enough to cause the few wardens in
the room to pause and glance her way. She stood, unfazed by the looks, and
snapped her journal closed before heading out of the mess hall.

The somber tune followed in the wake of her pained movement and not even she
took note of the blood that fell from her right palm.




Writer: Xanthania

Date Fri May 3 09:14:07 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Fri May 3 14:03:34 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 1



An unearthly silence overtook the normal chittering of animals around the
grove. A gust of wind blows through the area, only startling a few birds to
send them on their way. Word would spread quickly in the dead of this
silence that a goddess had been slain. Why? What would cause such a
terrible disaster in the first place? Furthermore... Which one? All of
these things would be answered soon enough as lone white tigress of a felar
climbed into the treetops above in order to see what she could. A few drops
of rain landed squarely on her forehead the moment she breached through the
upper canopy. It was raining? No, that couldnt be right. She couldnt hear
it.

She stared in awe of the gathering storm overhead, noting that it was
curiously worse than many others she could remember from the past month.
Was it a sign from Turpa? The wind howled through the trees, making its
presence very clear to her ears, yet the rumble of thunder nor the falling
rain would bring the delightful sounds to her ears. Finding a familiar path
back to the ground, she cautiously steps out into the clearing deeper within
the grove, trying to hear the rain land in the pond. Still nothing.

By morning, she had not slept, nothing felt right anymore. Something was
clearly missing and it wasnt just her own senses betraying her. Her prayers
normally go unanswered, but even this felt different, it felt hollow. The
feeling in her gut only grew worse as she began to wander through the
pathways of her home, listening to what wildlife had returned to their
normal behavior. It was at least some measure of comfort knowing things
seemed to be returning to normal amongst the fauna.

With a heavy sigh, she set about drying off and preparing what she might
need for the day. A nearby tree holds several very basic pieces of clothing
that had been drying overnight. After taking a few minutes to dress herself
enough to be modest by human standards, she sets out to discover just what
had transpired over the past day. With any luck, nothing truly terrible
will have happened and the omens she had come to notice herself will just be
a weird coincidence. Only a matter of time before it would come to light.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri May 3 22:46:03 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna Religion

Subject Path to War II: Gryphonne Provice: The Arrival



Two days after departing the Cadian province, and after a short stop
within the city of Althainia to re-supply, and pass a few orders to Skarr.
He learned that the Steward had been working in Ofcol, and had arranged
supply exchange for the coming war effort. Geirhart had done well, and this
work would further empower morale, and the men and women of the Guard to be
prepared, and focus on the preparations at hand.

The Emperor and his company passed through the crossroads, and through the
old, cursed lands of the original Thalosia. The forests grounds of of the
bordering provinces slowly giving away into a more sparsely populated
forest.

In the distance, Mercerion could see the Wyvern tower. The lands here are
where they first found the creatures that would come to serve as Althainia's
advantage in the wars to come. Even now, Mercerion recalled the majesty of
the fierce creatures. Once tamed, they made for incredible mounts. Fierce
and noble, and easily equipped to kill a man on their own, let alone with
the direction of a heavily armed, and armored knight upon its back.

The Emperor's company passed through the Centaur village, and into the
Gryphonne province. The Company was joined by an order of mounted knights,
flanking the company with the colors of Althainia, and the provincial flag
as well. Over the next hour, they road past a set of land that had been
cleared, and obviously heavily used for mounted combat movements.

Over the next week, the Emperor would be working here with the heavy cavalry
and dragoons, as well as the Knights in their movements. Herein would be
the heart of the Althainian strategy in the coming war, and the Emperor
would serve with these men and women over the next week. As they entered
the encampment, Mercerion dismounted his warhorse and moved to shake the
Dragoon General's hand, a broad grin playing on his features. This man
served with Mercerion during the raids of the Hand of Devion, and could
rouse a charge that would make the Serpantol knights proud.

Phase two of the Path to War was under way.




Writer: Rasavadi
Date Fri May 3 23:37:01 2019




Writer: Maccus
Date Sat May 4 09:19:51 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse All Imm Religion RP Ampersand Cayenna

Subject Lost City - Preperations


He shivered some, the cold seeping down into his bones as he continued to
gather the supplies needed. There would be no returning, no running in and
out of the encampment. He had known his orders for some time now. All he
had to do was wait for the orders to be given to the rest. Maccus exhaled
forcefully. Willing his body to calm as he worked. He looked about him.
The others who would be joining him were equally preparing to depart. Their
demeanor appeared determined, but determination only went so far. He
watched his scout, motioning for her to stand with him as he whispered,
'Leave in the morning, keep at least within range for an imp to be used as
communication
'. With a sharp and subtle nod Draphinamina began to depart.



Maccus took a deep breath again, the shaking came once more. The cold
battered his senses, fogging him over as he gripped ahold of his pack. He
slipped his arm through one strap and slipped it to his back. It was going
to be a long night ahead of him.

Yet he couldn't sleep. The thoughts of what came next stuck with him as he
paced around the front of his tent. Sofka was not with him, tasked and
needed elsewhere. His hands then began to shake, and with a sudden rage and
fury he kicked clumps of snow hard in front of him. Kicking pellets of snow
up and forward toward the silent darkness. Death was inevitable, he knew
that, yet coming to grips with the chance of death.. That he was not
prepared for.




Writer: Raimbaut

Date Sat May 4 12:18:43 2019




Writer: Rasavadi
Date Sat May 4 20:03:45 2019




Writer: Rorra
Date Sat May 4 22:55:27 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 2



Pushing beyond the leafy barrier that stood between her home and the
outside world, everything seemed perfectly normal. A gentle breeze carries
a handful of leaves across the rough terrain, a couple of squirrels fighting
over an acorn, even a few knights riding down the nearby dirt road-
Hopefully keeping the peace at that. What could have possibly happened that
caused such a strange disturbance last night? No matter, someone would know
something more than she did.

Passing through the central areas of Arkane brought little knowledge to her
ears even after asking a handful of others if they had felt the same odd
feeling. Nothing at all. Turpa was far from the most worshiped of the
Pantheon, but surely there were some around that must know more. One in
particular that she passed by was a priestess of Zandreya that seemed to be
actively drawing the attention of anyone bearing a symbol of would mark them
as followers of Turpa.

"Hey, you there! Is that a pendant of Turpa? I would know that raindrop
anywhere. "

This immediately caused her ears to perk up, turning her head towards the
source of the voice. Why would they of All the people she had passed by be
the one to specifically ask about that? The mere notion of having lost
Turpa to whatever tragedy unfolded was not something she was ready to
believe. By now she had been practically staring at the priestess in
confusion for a few minutes.

"Are you alright there, miss? I only spoke up because many faithful
followers have been coming to seek new found protection beneath Zandreyas
branches. If you are among those, I would gladly welcome you as well. "

"And abandon the Lifegiver? My kin hold Turpa in far greater respect than
countless others could even imagine. "

Her attitude quickly turned dark, fearing both the worst and not wanting to
believe the truth that lies within those words. If the darkened clouds
overhead were not enough of a sign that a storm was coming through again
soon, then the silent rumbling that had a few locals complaining about the
incoming storm would cut their activities short would speak enough. Even
now she could not hear it, but why?

"Miss, I only offer sanctuary in these dark times. Please consider what has
happened and know that Zandreya welcomes All who would accept her. "

Not another word would come from the felars mouth as she walks away quickly,
not wanting to listen to anything that would suggest Turpa had fallen. A
singular crack of lightning in the distance sends many of those who were
around back to their homes to avoid the storm, though unheard, it would not
go unheeded as she would begin travelling back towards her own home within
the grove. Tomorrow was another day to sort things out after all.




Writer: Cieran

Date Sun May 5 13:57:06 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: An Unexpected Visitor



Cieran stared at the woman for a moment, an eyebrow cocked with a slight
smile on his lips as she fired off a barrage of questions. The subject of
them quickly labelling her as an Abbadonian.

Cieran held up a finger, "Pardon me milady, just a moment if you would...
". Cieran turned his gaze and used the finger he was holding up to beckon
the nearbye camp guard over. "You do understand what the word "Senrty"
means right soldier?
" The young private nodded slowly, trying not to meet
the gaze of his Commander. "Good, good... Well for your next assignment
you are going to need a shovel.
" The private looked up, obviously
perplexed. "Aye, digging latrines calls for a shovel. Go on now, and while
you are at it I want you to ask around of your fellow soldiers what the
purpose of a Sentry is.
"

As the soldier toddled off, his shoulders slumped, Cieran turned his
attention back to his unexpected guest. "Right, where were we? Ah, right,
you were asking why we were on Althainian land training. The short answer
is war, but not with your Kingdom this time, lest you know something I
don't?
" Cieran smiled his most charming smile, his head tilted to the side
a bit as he awaited a reply. "Yes well, your proximity to our border is
rather alarming nonetheless, I'll have to report it.
" Cieran smiled
deeper, taking the opening "Good! I hope you do. Something to add to the
report would be we are going after Chaos and would welcome any aid that
other kingdoms would like to offer. In point of fact, you seem quite good
at sneaking, mayhaps you would like train with us milady? You shall set an
interesting trend in the uniform department.
" The woman eyed Cieran cooly,
appraising the man for a long moment. Cieran held his ground under the
gaze, the smile still on his lips, although deep down he was curious to see
how the woman would reply.




Writer: Ivyna

Date Mon May 6 06:19:42 2019




Writer: Xanthania

Date Mon May 6 06:57:02 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Mon May 6 08:51:46 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 3



Being woken up by the sounds of chirping birds and chittering squirrels
was always pleasant. Stretching herself out rather languidly and even
though she continued to lay there, eyes closed, she was awake and aware of
her surroundings. Ears twitching and turning ever so slightly to better
catch a few of the more unique calls from the creatures that lived within
the grove with her. Everything seemed as though it had returned to normal.
Not strange things to bother her nor anything standing out against what she
considered precious.

A sudden bolt of lightning came crashing down through the canopy, striking
her directly on her exposed belly. The sheer pain of it All made her scream
catch in her throat, at least until a second strike happened in the same
place. Forcing open her eyes at this point and sitting upright, looking
down at her perfectly fine body. A nightmare.. The words of that priestess
had shaken her on a deeper level than she would care to admit, but at every
given chance, she simply ignored the signs. Grumbling quietly to herself
until she decided it was actually time to set about taking care of her
needs- Specifically hunger.

There were always plenty of berries growing nearby during this time of the
year and it was enough to hold her over until she could hunt something down
properly. Much of the morning would be spent tracking down a suitable meal
for herself, skulking about the densely wooded areas far away from the grove
itself. The only thing that continued to plague her mind were those same
words that she refused to listen to. Who was this priestess to dare to
beckon the followers of Turpa to another calling? For what reason? She
shook her head to clear her mind and focus on hunting instead.

A few trees this far out had been marked to not only provide guidance, but
also as a reminder that nothing here would be the same without Turpas rains
gracing the lands. Each mark was another symbol that she was aware of other
followers keeping close to their hearts. A raindrop, a streak of lightning,
a snowflake and her personal favorite, the crescent moon partially
encircling a raindrop, the very one the right side of her neck bares.
Nothing pleases her more than to see these markings, even as weather worn as
they were. Rubbing her eyes for a moment, she looks again at a few of the
carvings in the tree. Some of them were scratched through! Shaking her
head again, looking much closer, whew.. No, she was seeing things. This is
getting worse




Writer: Geirhart

Date Mon May 6 18:37:57 2019

To All Althainia Cayenne Imm Rp

Subject Road to War: Supplying the War



Geirhart was tired. He had just returned from Ofcol on a recent supply
mission for the war effort. He was glad the priests of the Dragon temple
offered their support. The food for the war was secure but other items were
needed.

Geirhart spoke to the castle chamberlain to secure horses and supplies for
the next trip. This would take him to the northwest and the alpine timber
forests for the wood needed to supply the effort. The Emperor had offered
two escorts for this journey. Miss Niarythma and Sir Agapitos.

He hadn't worked with them often but he was sure they would be helpful. He
got his quill and paper out and addessed a missive to both of them. He ran
through the route, supplies required, and ideas on clothing since it would
be colder in the hills and low mountains.

Geirhart then spoke to recent scouts to identify any threats and spent some
time in meditation prior to venturing out. Once his companions were ready,
the journey would begin.




Writer: Vyasa
Date Mon May 6 19:38:30 2019




Writer: Xanthania
Date Tue May 7 08:39:47 2019




Writer: Rorra
Date Tue May 7 09:21:06 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 4



Darkened clouds began to pass over the grove soon after returning from
hunting, though hardly successful, a single rabbit will have to do for now.
The distant rumbling would go unnoticed thanks to her assumed cursed
deafness to the storms. Soon enough she had be able to eat a little bit of
the cooked rabbit. Unfortunately for her own sanity, it had begun. The
first few droplets of rain hit her. Swallowing a hardly chewed piece of
meat, she slowly lifts her head up, gazing blankly as her fur was slowly
being soaked thoroughly.

"Why? WHY?! What have I done do deserve this torture!? " Throwing away
what remains of her meager feast, she pushes off of the tree she had been
resting against. Her ire purely directed towards the storm the raged
overhead All the while she would quickly make her way towards the enormous
tree within the center of the grove. Every few seconds, glaring at the
storm, muttering a repeated 'Why'. Climbing high above into the top of the
tree to a point where she is able to push above the leaves, exposing her
upper body to the rain once again.

"TURPA!! " Her rage was quickly reaching a breaking point. Far beyond what
has ever come from her in the past. "Answer me! What have I done so
wrong?! Let me.. LET ME LISTEN! " Her cries went unanswered even then.
Not so much as a single utterance of any sort, let alone any sound coming
from the chaotic storm overhead. No matter how many times she shouted, not
a single sound beyond the rustling of the treetops. It wasnt until the
felar was struck by an errant lightning bolt that she was silenced,
plummeting down through the branches. A rough landing was inevitable, but
thankfully landing within the the large open cradle of tree limbs that makes
up her place of rest.

The rest of the storm passed quickly from her perspective. All with it
being a blur for several hours, the first few of which were spent
unconscious. Hazy images fill her vision from time to time, some resembling
the very symbols of her faith. Perhaps this was a sign. The one she asked
for. The one she needed to believe in.




Writer: Maccus

Date Tue May 7 09:57:31 2019

To Eclipse Fatale All Religion RP

Subject Lost City - A past prayer'


The biting wind stung at his cheeks, his company made their way through
the snow storm as the carefully followed the markers laid down by
Draphinamina, showing a clear path to a good place to camp. Those with him
trudged on, seeming to be in good spirits for All that they were doing. Yet
Maccus, a man born and used to the heat suffered. Nothing he did kept him
warm, only the stinging cold that pounded his senses to blackness as he
marched.

---------------------------------

He awoke marching down the steps of Fatale's temple, his presence looming
down below down to the altar of bones. His face turned to the various
statues and avatar of Fatale, growling at the thoughts that remained, "When
will my efforts be acknowledged". That same thought pounded and ripped
apart his thoughts in anger. His hand twitched, it reached down to his belt
and clawed out his sword, forcing it to scrape against the sheathe as he
ripped it free. The blade came cascading down, as quick as a viper, yet
only the smirking mirage remained, yet slowly fading as he approached the
altar. The next tormenting vision to haunt him appeared, blue eyed and
screaming, assailing his senses as he let loose a vicious roar. The
apparition slowed faded, whispering away sweet nothings and empty promises.
His hands grip to the Altar, his voice shakey and a stray tear dripping down
his cheek 'Lord... Guide me in these times, for they are dark and full of
chaos. Help me usher ours back to the path we once were on, please Lord, I
beg you


Maccus turned to the altar, placing both hands atop it as he fumbled with
the glove of his right hand, and letting it drop atop the altar once more.
He stifled a gasp, the pain coursing throughout his body and along every
cut, burn and scar. Maccus inhaled a sharp breath, the end being knocked
out of him. Then, suddenly he snapped back to his being.
-----------------------------------------

The bitter cold was still there, his eyes moved forward to a small tent to
where Draphinamina has camped herself. The snow began to fall on them,
thick and heavy, echoing every crunch and step as they made their way.
'CAMP UP. WE REST HERE FOR THE NIGHT. '




Writer: Zola

Date Tue May 7 17:41:56 2019

To All Althainia Bloodlust Black_Robes Chaos Immortals Fatale

Subject X The War against Chaos X


Death. Destruction. Doom.

So many excellent words in the Common Tongue that started with 'D' it
seemed.


Right now, a number of them were coming to mind as Zola observed the going
ons of the kingdoms. The Althainia continent was abuzz with new
activity as
the various kingdoms, prominently the Althainian Empire, were engaged in
growing activity. And not just increased trade, revenue, or
entertainment.
No, Zola well recognized the build-up and distribution of troops and
weapons. There was war brewing on the horizon.


War was good for business. Nothing quite like a life-or-death struggle to
really bring the really ruthless, murderous nature within people to
the
forefront.


Eager to learn more, the Deathscythe moved in closer, moving under the
shadow of darkness to observe the players involved. The latest development
came when he learned of a radical too extreme even for Chaos. That put a
great deal of what was transpiring into focus. Chaos was the target. The
world had seemingly had enough of dealing with their madness and their
hypocrisy. And while that did sound glorious, what really drew Zola's
attention
was the new outcast.

Betrayed, broken, and ripe to regain his faith... a proper faith... in the
Dread Lord of Murder.


"Time we have a chat... Scribpog."




Writer: Mercerion

Date Tue May 7 21:37:34 2019

To All Althainia Religion Cayenna

Subject Road to War III: Hark, Knights of the Gryphon



The sound of a pitched charge.. The thunder of coursers and destriers as
they were driven on by their riders. The knights and cavaliers bore down on
their targets, a column of infantry which represented the core of a column.


In the last few moments before the charge would have struck, a wall of
scarecrows rose up, representing a pike formation. In the center of the
cavalry column rose a silver banner, bearing a blazing blue gryphon. A
battlecry rose to a tumultuous roar, and heavily armored cataphract knights
surged to the head of the charge.

Pikes struck armor and barding, shattering at hte momentum of the charge as
the cataphract knights bust through the pike line, punching a hole for the
rest of the cavaliers and knights to get to the infantry, and overrun the
column.

In less than a minute, the entire column of infantry was smashed, and the
pike line shattered. The Gryphonne cataphract knights had survinved the
pike stand, and burst through it, successfully landing the charge in the
midst of the enemy.

The Emperor looked on from atop his warhorse as he wheeled out of the
infantry column. It was a masterful strike, and he had seen and been a part
of many charges in his past, rarely ever seeing a knight group break through
a significant pike defense.

The new heavy armor, and four meter lances of the Gryphon Knights were well
honed, and this was even on horseback, which was not their trained mount of
choice. Emperor met General with a salute, and then a handshake.

A damned fine bit of work, General

Thank you, Majesty. Should see them in their peak form.

I'll have to trust you for now, I don't want to tip our hand.

The General grinned and then nodded, before turning to survey the training
dummies which had been set into infantry formation. The devastation caused
by the charge was indeed impressive, and even more so, was the speed in
which the defenses were shattered and overrun.

He turned to Mercerion, "I wouldn't want to be the poor bastard receiving a
charge from the Gryphon Knights, nor the sorry sap who tried to hit the
Emperor and ran into her
." The General was gesturing to Kyrlynn, whom had
entered battle astride the charging knights, just behind the cataphracts.

Kyrlynn returned her weapons to their scabbards and walked past the General,
"You should try keeping up with the Emperor first, then you might actually
get to see that sorry sap who tried to hit him
."

Mercerion shooks his head and laughed, "She -is- a kyorl, she probably knows
best
." From there Mercerion dismounted and handed the reigns to a squire
nearby. Removing his gloves and heading towards the series of tents and
buildings. It was time for supper after a long day of drills, and he had a
surprise for the troops whom had been busting arses to prepare for the
coming conflict.





Writer: Rorra

Date Wed May 8 09:19:07 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 5



Days quickly turned to weeks along with numerous storms passing overhead.
Each day felt excessively long, particularly stormy days. No matter how
much she tried, sleep was never found during them. To her it felt as though
some otherworldly being had gripped her and would not let go every time even
a small rain storm would come. All the while she remained awake, she would
collect pieces of wood to slowly whittle down in to one of the many symbols
she had come to know as the various symbols of Turpa.

Eventually she would make enough to spread the word of the Lifegiver
herself. It did not matter if she was not a priest herself, she was just as
much connected to nature as any other would be and by that, to Turpa to some
degree. She knew exactly who the first one should go to, but when and
where? Leaning over towards the edge of the pond, she saw the reflection of
a worn down felar, one who could clearly use a little uplifting. As if in
some attempt to cure herself of the darkness she had slipped in to, or at
least help the downtrodden being on the water's surface, she tries to offer
one of the wooden trinkets to her own reflection. When it dawned on her
what she had just tried to do, she dropped the wooden raindrop and merely
watched it float slowly away from her.

What was she doing? She was already fully aware of her Goddess blessings,
why would she do that? As if the last few weeks were not bad enough, now
this. At least the recent storm had passed and she could finally rest
easily for the time being. She took some time to reach her spread of furs
that make up her bed up within the massive tree in order to get what rest
she could for the day. At this point, nothing felt better than getting to
actually sleep for a lengthy period of time.

For a time, there was peace and wondrous dreams from bounding through the
forest to staring in awe at the power of Turpas storms raging across the
landscape. All was right while she dreamt, but it would not last for long.
A brief shiver runs down her spine, a chill rose in the air just before she
was awoken by the feeling of a few stray drops of dew coming off of the
leaves above. Nature was sometimes cruel in its own ways, but the day was
fresh and the need to hunt was great.




Writer: Vyasa
Date Wed May 8 16:02:44 2019




Writer: Cassidy
Date Wed May 8 22:06:56 2019

To All ( Imm Religion Siccara )

Subject Silent Grief



Every day she awoke and went through All the motions of living, put on
the face that others preferred, a smile here and there, a cheerfulness she
didnt feel. She would walk among the people of Nall Aruh, the province she
took care of with her husband, she would smile at the people, talk with
them, aided them in their daily lives. She checked on the horses that were
so highly prized, helping with the foals, and overlooked their well being.
She travelled through streets of New Thalos, always smiling at the children
who raced towards her to show her their newest drawings, or their newest
learned skills. She sat with the elders and listened to All their stories.
All seemed fine with her, on the outside, but inside when she was alone She
been the Goddess Priestess, she had heard Her sweet voice directly, had felt
Her divine presence, Her radiant warmth. Cassidy had faltered for a bit, in
a sad moment of her life she had felt she wasnt the right one to be Her
priestess, and had decided to walk a different path, still holding the
Goddess of Healing deep in her heart and following the Tenets.

She had been gone when the battle ensued, and had returned a bit after the
great Sacrifice, feeling the loss of Siccara, the pain and emptiness that
surrounded her heart. She understood what had been gained through that
sacrifice, but she also knew what it had cost. She wondered each day how
the Godson was doing, if he still lived even now after the death of his
Mother. If she felt as lost as the child she had been so long ago, how did
he feel? How were other followers dealing with the loss? It would soon be
a year, and there was no guidance, no comfort, no support. She went often
to the Temple of Siccara in Althainia, to pray, to meditate, to gaze upon
the statue of her Goddess, to wonder in silence, and sometimes to cry.

What were they supposed to do? Did others feel as lost? What was she
supposed to do now?




Writer: Rorra
Date Thu May 9 09:28:05 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Shattered Peace - chapter 6



Bolting upright from a dead sleep at what sounded somewhat similar to a
thunderous sound overhead. The mere joy of it had her scrambling to to her
feet and make her way down through the trees to reach the edge of the
clearing. A particularly nasty storm was looming overhead, spitting
lightning in erratic patterns. The sounds of it still fell on deaf ears,
but the splintering of wood was not. One of the larger trees was struck in
a way that caused it to fall towards the clearing, smoldering in defiance
against the heavy rains.

Upon seeing the fallen tree after having mistaken it for being able to hear
the sounds of the storms once more, she falls to her knees, defeated.
Crying out in anguish at what had been stolen from her was too much to bear.
If the Lifegiver was truly gone, then what purpose was left for her to
follow? What guidance would there be without Her presence offering whispers
from time to time in the distant scattered rolling thunder. Too many
questions lingered in her mind to focus on any given one.

By the time she calmed down enough to sort through her thoughts, she was
completely soaked through to the skin. She sat there for quite some time in
silence, not even so much as moving her tail at all. Surely this must all
just be a terrible nightmare that she will wake from soon enough. Another
lightning strike would lay low another nearby tree beyond the veil of the
trees that form the outer edge of the clearing. It was enough to snap her
to attention, looking towards the general direction the sound of a snapping
tree had come from, a saddened expression set on her features.

A quiet growl rumbles in her throat just as she lifts her right hand up to
grip the metallic pendant that hangs around her neck. One swift, harsh tug
is All it took to snap the thing leather strip it was tied to. She looked
down at it in her hand in a sense of questioning All that she had come to
know. Seeing a felled tree by the same storm she could no longer enjoy
herself was the final straw. In a brief fit of rage, she rears back as much
as she can and throws the pendant towards the center of the pond. As it
sinks to the bottom, she lets out a shuddering sigh while falling backwards
to lay in the muddy ground.




Writer: Maccus
Date Fri May 10 00:56:44 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse All Imm RP Religion Ampersand Cayenna

Subject Lost City - Ambushing the enemy Part I


The scrape of metal against metal could be heard as the company of six
tried desperately to draw their weapons without notice. The four humans
pushed their shields to a primary position, preparing themselves for a
slogging fight. Maccus' company had marched headlong into a group of
Wights. This roving band was some thirty miles north, northwest of
Eastdrift, making their way to a point between Shimmermist and the first
pass toward Narrowbreak. Yet this was something that they couldn't have
predicted. Maccus scanned the Wights, silently cursing as he couldn't spot
the one who controlled them. He turned to his men, 'We knew we'd run into
something like this. Those who aren't ready, turn back now. There won't be
another chance.
'.

No one said a word as they moved up, still hoping to take the Wight's flank
by surprise. Then, with a roar, the band of five jumped from the spot they
were hiding, charging directly into the enemies exposed flank. The charge
was partially effective. The four humans were flanked by both a Yinn and
Minotaur, hacking down wight after wight where they could. 'DONT LET THEM
GET AROUND OUR BACKS
' was one thing Maccus could be heard yelling as he
plunged into the charge, another shouted yell 'HOLD!! WE CAN DO THIS
TOGETHER!!
' The four humans formed a wall as they charged, knocking the
creatures down as best they could together while the Yinn and Minotaur
cleaned up around them.

Yet the charge didn't last long, the company of six was slowly pushed back
by the small horde of wights. Finally the four humans formed a sort of
shield wall, curved just slightly to protect the exposed flanks of the
Minotaur and Yinn, giving the two much larger beings free access to swing
over their heads. Small nicks and cuts were suffered to them all, yet they
all stood vigilant. Nothing was uttered by those who served under Maccus,
remaining silent save the cries of rage as they turned bones creatures to
piles of bone.

Continued in part two.....




Writer: Rorra

Date Fri May 10 11:29:42 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 1



Every day would take what seemed an eternity to pass, every stray storm
keeping her wide awake only made matters worse at this stage. This would
often lead to her carving random trees she happened to be resting by at the
time with outlines of raindrops. Occasionally it would be something
entirely different that would snap her out of the daze only for her to
wander off to take care of something else that needed to be done. Idle
thoughts of Turpas demise would always be in the back of her mind, eating
away at any hope left remaining that everything would simply return to
normal.

Would that she could have at least witnessed it happen herself, maybe she
could put it behind her much easier and allow herself sanctuary from All of
this. Would it truly make it right in her mind if that was the case? Or
would it merely make matters worse by subjecting her to something far more
terrifying than losing her sanity bit by bit. Sitting by the waters edge
would only prove to let her imagination run wild with how it happened. One
with an epic clash, bringing the raw destructive power of lightning down
from the heavens, giving her the upper hand yet falling in a valiant attempt
to strike down her assassin. Another with her helplessly being slain in a
brutal fashion.

She shook her head quickly, slapping herself on the sides of her face in
order to draw her back to reality and focus again. She looked horrible, her
mane having been left unkempt and otherwise most of her fur needing to be
cleansed. All of this had taken a heavy toll on her well being. It was all
too clear that she had to take better care of herself even through All the
suffering her mental state left her in. First things first... She couldnt
sense any incoming storms right now, thankfully that much had been left for
her. A nice long sleep would do her some good right now. To that, she
managed to smile as she curled up in the shade of a nearby tree not too far
from the pond, quickly letting sleep take hold.

Suddenly feeling herself falling lead to a darkened visual becoming very
clear. A storm cloud, but she could hear it. Nothing could be better to
her right now than the thunderous strikes coming from a raging tempest
filling the sky All around her. She knew All too well it was a dream given
the circumstances and took advantage of it while it would last. Landing
gently onto a low hanging cloud gave her the perfect view to see the bolts
streak through the air. All was right with the way she wanted things to be
while she dreamt.

A curious shock would make her look down at the cloud she had landed on and
in that instant it would vanish, coming with it the initial crackle of
lightning even if the rumble would never come. Tumbling down towards the
rapidly approaching ground, a strange voice spoke to her even if she could
not understand it. Flipping over in the air while mere seconds from impact,
though All she would see is the flapping of massive wings blocking her
vision entirely just before coming into contact with the ground. She
suddenly woke up from the dream turned nightmare, out of breath and rapidly
scanning her surroundings for any sign of what had tried to speak to her. A
heavy sigh was released, peering up towards the sky to see the Suns
position. She only managed to sleep a little while, but it would have to do
for now.




Writer: Maccus
Date Fri May 10 18:36:08 2019

To Shadow Vermonasia Eclipse All Imm RP Ampersand Cayenna

Subject Lost City - Ambushing the enemy 2/Final


Hacking, slashing, pounding and desperately fighting, the small band
worked as they could together. The piles of bone added underneath their
feet, taking steps back when and where they could to keep their balance, and
out of the fray a massive Wight showed itself, riding atop a frozen wolf.
It turned, dropping from its mount, and pointed its blade toward Maccus.
The wight slapped the wolf and it veered off, heading in the opposite
directing.

The Wight began moving toward Maccus and his company. It carried a long,
two handed blade and a heavy buckler, beginning to pound its way toward the
small shield wall. The company braced as it crashed their lines, knocking
Maccus back and into the snow. His men shouted collapsing their wall inward
and tightening the flanks around the Yinn and Minotaur. Maccus rolled in
the snow a moment, the wind knocked out of him as he began to move to his
feet.

The wight slashed quickly with its sword, aiming directly at Maccus' face.
Maccus wasn't prepared for the speed that the wight offered, taking the
first brutal slash across his face and down his left eye. The second he
reacted properly for, bringing his shield up and knocking it aside. Luckily
for Maccus, his chainmail helm caught the blow partially, forcing the slash
to look more gruesome than it truly was.

Maccus collapsed in a heap, watching several dozen crumble before them. His
men, All panting hard and bloodied. Yet they weren't out of it yet. No
where close even. With a yell, Maccus called out to his men, 'LAY THE
MARKER, DEFEND THE AREA. THIS IS THE FIRST LINE OF DEFENSE NOW AGAINST THE
FORCES AGAINST US.
'. With a rush both the Yinn and Minotaur pulled out a
massive red stake. Plunging it into the earth and hammered it home. The
three humans rushed to Maccus' side, watching the man bleed from the gaping
wound down his face. 'Rahlin, Ardam. Return to the Encampment with word
that the first outpost is set, and that the defenders are ready. Double
time, I need you back after this.
'

The pair of men nodded quickly, offering a proud, 'Sir! ' in response to
his command. Maccus turned to the final human, Londeth, the Minotaur
Teelin, and the Yinn Vaesk. Those were the four who would help him defend
this area. Maccus drew out a bandage from his pack, wrapping it around his
face, as he finally began to feel the effects of the fight. His vision
blurred and began to fade as he wrapped it around the left hand side of his
face, and slowly, once more he drifted into blackness.




Writer: Draphinamina

Date Fri May 10 23:42:11 2019

To Shadow Vermonasia Eclipse All Imm RP Ampersand Cayenna ( Necrucifer )

Subject Lost City - The trail ahead, leads behind


Draphinamina stealthily worked her way along a ridge, occasionally making
a mark that should make the trail clear for those following her. From this
height, she had a premium view of her surroundings, but it made her more
likely to be spotted as well. Hence her caution as she progressed.

It was getting late in the day as she selected a secluded campsite. She was
quite pleased that she had located a good sized cave with an easily
defensible access tunnel. 'The rest should be catching up fairly soon', she
thought to herself. She busied herself with getting the cave room All set
up. As time passed and no one came, she began to get worried. Leaving
everything in the cave, she began to quickly retrace her path from earlier
in the day. Around a bend in the trail, she spotted the evidences of a
mighty battle. Wight bones littered the ground. She also noticed that one
of the magical markers had been set in the ground. She briefly looked
around for any survivors that might need her help before following the now
plain to see trail of the wounded. She increased her pace and held to a
quick loping stride until she caught up with them. After responding
correctly to their challenge, she was dismayed to see Maccus had been
severely wounded and was slung over one of the horses still unconscious.
The rest had not fared as badly, but still had quite a few wounds between
them. She found out they were returning to the Encampment to heal and
report their progress. She offered to provide the rear guard so they could
make better speed. The rest of the trip was uneventful, but Draphinamina
looked concerned as Maccus was carried into the healers. She had caught a
glimpse of his damaged face and wondered how well they would be able to fix
it.




Writer: Rorra
Date Sat May 11 09:24:28 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 2



Lying awake in the midst of nothing more than a gentle mist coming down,
much of the tigress sanity was quickly eroding away with every passing day.
Even something as tame as this would see to it that her rest would go
interrupted. A quiet groan preludes sitting up from the soft grass near the
pond. Heavily sighing knowing that it would be some time before she could
find sleep once again, she turns her attention to the water. The wooden
symbol she had carved most recent found its way to the bank of the pond.
Leaning closer to the water in order to pick up the wooden carving, turning
it over in her hands to see if it was first of All real, but also the same
one she had given to her own reflection.

Without question it was the same one. Squeezing it roughly in her hand
proved to be futile, but that did not keep it safe from her resurging wrath.
Quickly flicking it back out across the water and seeing it land near the
middle was enough for now knowing it wouldnt bother her again for a while.
There were still more where that came from though and soon there would be
none for any to see around here. Looking towards a the massive tree with a
quick nod, she would make her way towards the top of it. A few dangle from
branches near the entrance of which were collected and hung from her
forearm.

A significantly larger one rested high above where she would normally sleep
even if that has become a rarity anymore thanks to coming into a rainy
season at the worst of times. Upon cresting the final portion of the wooden
ramp leading upwards it was in plain sight. An enormous carved stone
raindrop sat upon a tiny wooden pedestal. Meticulously cared for until
recently where it was nothing but a source of irritation. Now it has to go.


Several of the wooden charms and symbols clacked with every subtle movement
that she made in order to roll the oddly shaped raindrop. It would not
deter her, especially as she finally reached the slope that lead back down
to the ground. Giving it one final shove to see it on its way down towards
the ground below. Bouncing randomly as it tumbled down the ramp, slamming
into the inner trunk just before flying off track and landing with a dulled
whomf. After catching up to the errant projectile and taking a lot of
effort to remove it from the indent it had created until it finally was
dislodged.

It took the better part of an hour just to roll the accursed symbol of past
devotion to the edge of the water. A moment of hesitation was All that
remained between her and salvation from this curse. A low, guttural grunt
escaped her maw as it was given the final push to send it sinking to the
bottom of the pond. The felar would sit down for some time, staring at her
handy work. As for the rest of the wooden carvings she had been carrying
around? Kindling for the fire.




Writer: Maccus
Date Sat May 11 11:29:38 2019

To Eclipse Sofka All RP Imm

Subject Lost City - Fever dreams


The hushed, judging whispers filled his head as he stirred for but a
moment, 'Not even our oldest veterans have scars like these'.

'Look at this one along his stomach, shoulders, collarbones... Who is he?
'. He felt himself being turned, doing his All to keep his breath calm,
'Another one along his back, All the same'.

His clover green gaze began to open as he is moved onto his back once more,
first the right, plain as normal yet sluggish in response. Then pain.
Cascading and overwhelming as he snarled as he forced the left open, 'Its
possible he won't ever see out of it again...
'.

He continued to force himself as blood began to seep from the half closed
and healed wound, 'He's waking up, pin him and sleep him again, he cannot be
awake!!
'.

A rush of hands, large and small pinned his hands, shoulders, ankles and
thighs to the cot. Briefly he could see the sapphire gaze of one he cared
for. He forced his left arm up with All he could, dragging the arms with
him as he reached out toward the sapphire gaze before it reached over to
take his hand in stride, 'Rest, my thief'.

Struggling against the chanting above him, resisting for All he could before
finally the effects of the spell hit him, forcing him to blackness once
more.

A man, a large as Maccus, yet not as scarred. Handsome in face and well
defined. His body as muscled and toned as Maccus, yet even taller. The
mans gaze met Maccus', his viridian gaze finding only one of Maccus' clover
eyes. His nature appeared barbaric, as if left to fend for himself for
many, many years. 'Little brother, what have they done to you. '.

The larger man rushed toward Maccus, wrapping his arms around the shorter
man for a vicious bear hug. A choked cry stuck in Maccus' throat, 'Zek'.

Wrapping his arms about the larger man as best he could, 'Thirteen years,
brother. It has been so long. Where are our sisters.. Where are-?
'.

His voice steeled, deeper than even Maccus remembered, 'Little brother, do
not stress, it is alright, I am here with you now, All will be alright.
'.


Yet it wasn't, Zek began to slowly melt into Maccus' arms, forcing that
choked cry fully out as Zek slowly turned to ash... One by one, All those
he has cared for turned to him, decaying, rotting or turning to ash before
his eyes before he faded and drifted into darkness once more.




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 16:38:27 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Shield of the Crown


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

If they were cold, they did not complain.

The men who served as the Shield of the Crown were not weak of nature or
prone to doldrums. For several hours already they had weathered the
elements tracking a single set of prints through the frozen landscape. The
harsh winds battled them every step, yet not a one had voiced a word of
discomfort. Nor had they let the unnatural cold of the godsforsaken lands
they traveled slow their progress.

The frigid temperatures were not their only concern. The night had brought
with it a thick cover of pale clouds that promised snow and the first flakes
of it had begun to fall just as the sun began to rise, threatening to cover
the tracks they sought before the first sparks of daylight could assist in
lighting their way. The fresh blanket of snow made their trek across uneven
terrains All the more precarious, concealing crevasses within the ever
frozen ground beneath their feet.

They traveled a southwestern path from Eastdrift, nearly making the full
trek to Dra'strit before the tracks they followed cut southward and
disappeared into the forested lands east of the ancient monastery. Their
way was shaded by thick trees and the snow had begun to fall in earnest.

It was here that their Commander halted their trek, hand gestures used to
communicate rather than words in case any danger awaited them within the
wood. They crouched together within the cover of a massive boulder as he
surveyed the path ahead, a dark eye shrewdly studying the tree line for any
immediate threat. Finding none, he turned to beckon his Second forward.

'Wisgarus, take the fastest of our men and return t' Eastdrift. Time has
come to let loose the beast.
' His demand, spoken quietly, gave no room for
argument and his expression dared his guard to give one. Still, a grumble
ran through the lot of them, their fear of their Commander, wights, harpy,
or ghul immediately overridden by their shared dislike of a single direwolf.


Had their Commander not shared the sentiment, he might of taken offense.
Still, he silenced their unrest with a cold glare that set them to action.
His men followed his order without any real dissent. To be certain of it,
he waited until the two disappeared from his sight before gesturing the
others forward.

The remainder continued onward, relieved they had not been given the task.


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 16:43:02 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - The Queen's Return


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

The hour was late when the Queen arrived within Eastdrift.

Rather than disturb those of the Watch during their rest, Ashtiel saw to
Etehnu's care and then ventured straight to the tent she shared with her
King. Her guards immediately took post outside and she gave them her
respects before venturing within.

Telthian had already begun his work within the forge, so she found soon
herself sitting alone at the table within, her mismatched eyes focused on
the map spread before her. She was weary but her mind was restless and she
planned to head out at first light to join her husband at Shimmermist.
Thus, she spent her first hour within the encampment busying herself reading
over the reports.

The ghul were continuously testing the defenses of their Encampment. Many
had vanished in the night if they risked venturing outside of the
encampment's barriers alone. One here. Two there. Another here. The list
was growing and their forces were spread out. They had not yet come close
to achieving their objectives.

With a sigh of frustration, Ash had pushed herself up from the table to pace
the confines of her tent. It was then that the ever present hum caught her
notice again, the grating buzz that remained at the edges of her senses and
brought a dull ache to her temples that would worsen the longer she remained
here. She was no closer to finding its source than she had been when they'd
first arrived here.

As if beckoned to her by the train of her thoughts, the old spirit returned.
Appearing near the entrance of her tent to hover insubstantially, his
baleful stare fixated on her. Ashtiel returned it for a moment, weariness
doing nothing for her disposition or her patience. She stretched out upon
the fur covered cot that took up most of the space within her tent and
turned her back to him, intent on ignoring him.

Another hour passed before exhaustion outweighed the awkwardness and she
finally gave in to the need for sleep. But her rest was plagued with
dreams. Fleeting images flooded through her mind.

Trees burned and twisted as flames ate away at their gnarled limbs. Men and
women fled, some burning, some caught by the swarm of ghul that moved like
spiders across the ice. Screams of agony. The sickening screech, given in
unison, of the ghul as they tore their victims to shreds. Blood poured
across the snow like paint spilled across canvas.

The smoke thickened - became suffocating - became everything.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 16:56:57 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Dark Memories


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

We came ta this frigid 'ell seekin our own selfish glory.

Like vultures circlin' carrion we struck out for these icy climes by the
'undreds.

The tale o' the Empire's demise reached the far corners o' Algoron and there
wasna a single seat o' power tha' didna covet the wealth tha' Dae'Tok had
built. To the young it promised adventure. To the steadfast ruler, it
promised riches and esteem. Only a fool wouldna 'ave considered stakin a
claim, grave robbin' though it may 'ave been. So the realm waited with
baited breath for the change o' seasons and for word tha any 'ad survived .
When none came, we descended.

My tribe was blessed. Our chief, Sheorais, 'ad followed the omens and 'ad
timed our arrival well. We were among the first to arrive. We settled in a
prime location within the woods south o' the city to avoid the watchful eyes
o' others who shared our intent. The first night was quiet. Our fires lit
the darkness o' the forest with a golden gleam. The excitement o' wha lie
ahead lit the spirit o' every man and woman within. It was a glorious sight
to be'old.

We didna know then o' wha was to come. We didna know tha our greed would be
our damnation.

At dawn, our great chief set off with his parade o' soldiers and the best o'
our scouts.

Late into the second night, a single scout returned. Bloodied and
screaming. The dead came with her. Like some beast from the worst o'
nightmares. They remained, hidden within the darkness cast by our own
fires. Those that guarded the outer edges o' the woods were the first to
die. As the creatures converged upon the forest, the screams began. Panic
kills same as any monster and it was panic tha 'elped destroy us.

There were so many o' them. It wasna long before the forest was ablaze and
we were fleein back the way we'd come. But even tha was lost to us. As if
the Gods themselves 'ad decided to punish us for our transgression, the
earth seized and a great crevice opened tha blocked our retreat.

Before our very eyes, the spirits o' our brethren rose, twisted abominations
tha joined the nightmare attacking us. Their spirits herded us towards the
very monsters tha slaughtered them. It was a massacre and All tha fell
joined our enemy.

We 'ad no choice. We were forced to retreat into the ruins in hopes a path
to salvation lay through the city itself.

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 18:56:11 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Dark Memories II


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

We didna make it far. We were cornered within a great domed building. The
strongest o' us struggled to fend off the beasts ah the door.

Our death surrounded us but still some ran about to pick pocket objects from
the shelves tha spiraled, the room. Useless and trivial things. None would
leave with them. It was upon one o' these tha I saw it.

The box was illuminated with a soft blue light tha made it stand out from
the rest. Its surface was sectioned and covered with symbols o' various
colors. I dinna know why I reached for it. Nor wha lay within. But in the
desperation o' the moment I grabbed it. It wasna greed but hope tha' fueled
my action. But the result would've been the same regardless.

The box let loose a dark flash o' light and a painfully jarring noise issued
forth to vibrate through the dome overhead. The dome cracked further to
send shards o'glass raining down upon us. The beasts outside screeched in
unison and fled. My hand burned. I dropped the box and fell to the floor
beside it to clutch at my ears in agony.

Once it settled upon the stone floor, the terrible sound the box emitted
dulled but remained. None dared to touch it again.

I know not why the sound disturbed the beasts enough tha they no longer
tried to enter. We were safe from those fearsome creatures but not from
ourselves. With little food or supplies and no hope o' rescue, it would be
up to us to find a way to survive.

Though the beasts were kept at bay, they picked off any who dared try to
escape and the sickness within this place touched All who lingered. Some
went mad within days. Some choose death by the beasts ratha than the slow
death tha awaited the rest o' us. We ate those who starved dead in attempt
to ward off starvation ourselves. But it was no use. We were destined ta
die. Destined for damnation and nah one o' us would be spared.

I watched them All join the rest. , One by one, until starvation claimed me
as well. I know not why I did not join the wraiths with the others. But I
am as damned as the rest. Cursed to remain.

We were the first but many have joined us in the ages tha' 'ave passed.

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 18:59:31 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Boxed In - Part I


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

She woke, shivering violently, to find herself standing almost knee deep in
the snow. The skeletal remnants of the buildings that made up Dae'Tok
surrounded her. This would have been less disconcerting had she not also
been barefoot and weaponless.

The spirit, having shared his tale, awaited her. His baleful stare
remained. He waited for her attention to settle upon him before beckoning
her forward with the wave of a hand and turning to precede her along a path
concealed in snow.

She was uncertain where she was within the city and hardly prepared for the
elements. No other option available to her, Ashtiel muttered an oath and
turned to follow, hands rubbing at her arms in hopes of warming them.

The spirit did not travel as she did. It flitted forward, covering vast
distances before pausing to wait for her to catch up. She struggled to do
so, All the while feeling the weight of danger upon her. Though she had yet
to see the ghul she could feel their presence.

The noise she had been chasing since arriving within Eastdrift grew stronger
as she chased behind the spirit and her speed grew with it. But her
shivering brought with it a sense of lethargy that made her limbs seem
heavier. Each step seemed harder than the one that preceded it.

The screech alerted her to the ghul at her back. It sprang from the broken
roof of a building as she turned into the alleyway, the impact sending her
sprawling into the snow. Ashtiel scurried backwards to avoid the swipe of
its claw and it lunged forward, half rotten jaws snapping at her as it came.

Another snarl signaled the arrival of Etehnu just as a flaming arrow struck
the ghul's temple. The creature stumbled and whirled to face the Crownguard
who burst into the alleyway, swords at ready.

Etehnu grabbed Ashtiel by the collar of her shirt to drag her backward
through the snow, pulling her from the alley before allowing her the option
to regain her feet. The massive direwolf positioned himself between her and
the others, his fierce snarl mirroring that of the ghul as it fought the
Verminasians.

Their Commander skewered the creature to the wall behind it as another of
his men removed it's head. The creature's dying scream was answered by
others. Screeches of anger that rose up from the ruins. The ghul knew of
their presence and were coming for them.

Across the courtyard the spirit awaited within the doorway of a massive
building topped with a dome of broken glass.

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 19:06:00 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Boxed In - Part II


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

The interior of the building was vast. Shelves in various condition
spiraled around the room to form a pile in the center where several had been
toppled. Others had been broken to feed the firepit that still remained to
the eastern side of the room, the only place the ceiling still sheltered
from the elements.

The snow covered some of the dead within but not All of them. Skeletons
dotted the walls. Grinning mouths greet them as they entered. The guard
took up positions near the exits while their Queen and Commander ventured
deeper into the room.

In the center of a melted pool of snow, lay a box that lit the water it lay
within with a silver-blue glow. The noise, now audible enough to annoy
everyone near it, arose from the box and the light it gave off pulsed in
time with its discordant melody.

An oversized cloak settled upon Ashtiel's shoulders as she studied it,
causing her to jump a bit as her attention shifted from the box to the
Commander of her guard. 'Thank you, Rothych. ' She turned to meet his
one-eyed gaze and grinned.

He scowled at her. 'You running off on your own does not make it easier to
keep you alive.
' His scowl turned into an admonishing look.

'Involuntary trip, I assure you.' He gave her a knowing look and she
shrugged at him. 'But I've kept myself alive this long.'

'Aye but look where that's gotten you. Middle of the bloody frozen wastes,
barefoot and surrounded by bloody ghul.
' He gestured over his shoulder
towards the door. 'Besides, you're a queen now and everyone hates a royal.
If the monsters don't getcha someone else might.
'

Her scowl told him what she thought of his opinion and he laughed, despite
himself. 'Don't get All offended, Highness. Folks want to be you and they
hate you cause they ain't. Simple as that.
'

Ashtiel turned away from him to crouch beside the box, studying it as she
quipped, 'Been thinking of killing me much, have you?'

'Would be a liar if I claimed the thought had never crossed m' mind. ' He
waited on her to look up at him and tapped the patch that covered his
missing eye.

'Don't make me take the other one.' It was an idle threat. Both of them
knew he was loyal enough to receive no harm from her. But the banter
between them was an unending as the noise that blared from the glowy box on
the floor in front of them.

'Ach. I'm still bitter about you taking the first. Bleeding shrew. You
going to shut that thing up then?
' He gestured to the box and shot her a
questioning look.

'I had considered it. But, given our situation it may be the only thing
keeping us alive.
'
--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat May 11 19:09:53 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Boxed In - Part III (Final)


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

Her guards built a fire from the remnants of the shelves that were dry
enough to burn, though it was hardly large enough to provide any warmth.
Ash sat before it, feet extended and looking worse for the wear. 'You could
lose one. Then you'd have a peg.
'

Ashtiel turned to glare up at Rothych to find him holding her boots out.
'Figured you might have need of these when we found you. Also brought your
favorites, if you were of mind to put them to use at some point today.
'

The guard, Wisgarus, quickly settled her bundled weapons beside her and
returned to his post by the entrance. She took the boots gratefully and
nodded her thanks.

'I've yet to come up with a plan to depart. We could try moving the box but
I am uncertain what it did to him.
' She gestured to the spirit who
remained near what she guessed was his corpse in a shaded section of the
shelves and Rothych gave her a look that said he clearly couldn't see whom
she was referring to. 'Never mind. Don't touch the box.'

Ashtiel gathered her weapons and rose, sheathing All but the crimson sword
she'd forged from the remnant of the meteor she and Telthian had retrieved
from the first ghul they'd encountered. The blade sensed magic and the soft
vibration that signaled its hunger for it ran up the length of her arm.

'There's more of them gathering! ' One of the guards called out from the
door way.

The earth rumbled. The building quaked around them and as if reminiscent of
the spirit's memory, glass rained down upon those within. Rothych threw his
arms over Ashtiel to shield her from the fall of it before both rushed to
the doorway to peer out of it.

Smoke rose to the northwest, a single plume that trailed upwards in tendrils
to stain the white clouds overhead. The ghul that gathered screamed their
anger in unison and turned, their attention diverted. The majority of them
turned to converge in the direction of the smoke.

'He did it. The forge is lit.' Ashtiel cast a glance at Rothych.

'Aye well lets get the hell out of here before the ghul come back. Get your
box, woman, it's time to go.
'

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Rorra

Date Sun May 12 08:51:20 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 3



For the first time this week the skies were clear. Birds chirping
happily amongst the treetops and even the squirrels had come out to play.
Not a cloud in the sky for miles around to mar the otherwise beautiful day.
Many of the trees sway every so often with a gentle breeze. That same
breeze would occasionally grow stronger, ruffling the fur of a white tigress
sitting next to a burnt out campfire. She sat there, wide awake, stomach
rumbling with hunger from time to time while she stared glassy-eyed at the
water.

Knowing it was still there bothered her greatly. The pendant sitting at the
bottom of the pond haunted her dreams with it rising from it as though it
called back to her, demanding to be collected and protected rather than
abandoned. The normally lively tail laid still across the grass All the
while the occasional curious rabbit or squirrel would come by to nibble on
it.

The day wears on, growing dark by the time she finally moves, looking over
her shoulder towards a particularly annoying squirrel. It had decided her
tail was good place to make a new home for now. Whipping around suddenly,
she reaches out for the squirrel quickly even though All it accomplishes is
scaring off the poor thing. The felar turns her attention back towards the
still waters off the pond, still concerned that the pendant would actually
rise from the water and yet the sounds of her rumbling belly would keep her
mind from wandering too far.

The sun was almost below the horizon and while she remained hungry, she was
far too tired to worry about it right now. Much, much too tired to deal
with anything, especially a pendant. She takes the time to grab her tail
and pull it close against her chest before laying down in the grass,
protecting the tail from random creatures that would dare turn it into a
temporary nest. With any luck, the weather would stay clear enough for her
to sleep properly for the first time in months.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sun May 12 17:33:20 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna Religion Nadrik

Subject Road to War IV: Unfinished Business (Part I)



The feast had been a glorious one. Paid in full by the Emperor, every
citizen in the province of Gryphonne had been invited. The cost had been
irrelevant to the Emperor, having paid for foods that many of the common
citizens may not regularly be able to afford. Such luxuries as finer water
fowls, an incredible array of sea food, directly broad into the province
from the Althainian port, and All manners of fruits and vegetables. All
told, the feasting tables were stocked in the area of 150 jeweled eggs worth
of food for the citizens to enjoy, many of these foods would be preserved
and repurposed as needed after the feast, if they were not consumed
altogether.

Men and women filled the hundred-tent feasting area, and there was
entertainment brought in for the young and old alike. The Emperor made his
rounds, stopping at every table he could to talk among the citizens and
enjoy in their merry-making. As the feasting progressed, gradually a
structure was put into place in the middle of All the tables. It seemed
much like a stage, at least until the corner-posts were put in, and then
ropes put in, connecting the posts around the perimeter of the structure.

Shortly after the ring was completed, Mercerion took leave of the table he
was sitting at and made his way to the ring. He stepped under the top rope,
and over the second, looking out at the merry faces of the Althainians whom
had come. These people had All been working hard, and they deserved a feast
and merry time, but there was something else that All this hard work had
done. This province may have had the most dedicated and difficult training
regimen, and Mercerion had personally overseen much of the preparation in
this training. Men were often pitted against eachother, and examples were
ofted made in the hopes of improving.

On a personal level, this drew motivation to the surface. When the Emperor
was present, everyone performed at their absolute best. But after this
night, the Emperor would move on. And those whom had perhaps pushed down on
the shoulders of their comrades to shine a bit brighter in hopes of being
noticed, would have to be back among their peers, where grudges may have
formed. This is why the ring was put into place, and the purpose of what
the Emperor was about to announce.

Men and Women of the Empire... When you step on the battlefield, you must
be ready to fight, or you dishonor the reason why we're here. When you
fight a man, he's not your friend. Same goes when you lead men.

The Emperor looked out among the faces gathered. Some of these people had
fought in wars before, like the previous Abaddon invasion, or even in the
battles against he Hand of Devion. Some were green and new, and had never
known the horrors of a battlefield.

He shook his head a moment before continuing, "I forgot that once. I let
people get too close to eachother. I dropped my guard. I gave some of them
breaks, let some of them go, before the fight was really over and we paid
the price in lives. That can't happen again.
"

At this point, the entire feast area was quiet with men and women looking at
eachother. Mercerion looked on for a moment longer, before he shrugged off
his cloak and began wrapping his fists in cloth, "You've All worked hard to
prepare for this war. Risen to the call to remove the taint of Chaos from
Algoron. When I showed up here, I could see the eager fire in your eyes as
you executed your drills, putting All of your work on display
."

Mercerion finished and slipped on a pair of sparring gloves before
addressing the people again, "I've seen some of you stand on the shoulders
of your peers, perhaps in a display of pride, or glory... But know this:
That kind of personal glory will break the bonds of family, and the trust we
have in one another. Grudges will form, and in this grudges, Chaos will
find its way inbetween us, and separate us
."


Continued in next storyn:




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sun May 12 17:35:23 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna Religion

Subject Road to War IV Unfinished Business (Continued and Finished)



Mercerion looked out over the people again, now ready to fight as he
called out, "So tonight, we take care of any unfinished business we may
have, before it can become grudges. Let us settle our differences
honorably. Let us shed some sweat, tears, and maybe a bit of blood
together, before we're forced to draw it from an enemy, and let no man or
woman leave this feast with unfinished business. I'll go ahead and
start.... General, get your ass in this ring!
."

With that, an ear-splitting cheer went up, and the youthful general grinned
ear-to-ear, making his way to the ring. The crowd began to crowd the ring
as the General stepped in and squared against the Emperor, whom was several
years his senior. As the General got his sparring gloves laced up, he
turned and face the Emperor and spouted off, "So how's this gonna work, do
you want me to lay down after a couple of hits, or should I put you out of
your misery quic-
" before the General could finish his sentence, the Emperor
caught him with a cross that stunned possibly everyone in the crowd.

The General stepped back and shook his head, laughing after a moment before
advancing, careful this time to block the crosses and evade the emperor's
jabs, trying to counter but finding the Emperor much more agile than his
supposed age would bely. At one point, the General connected with several
body hits, before the Emperor caught a body blow with his glove and
countered into an uppercut, which sent the General to the mat.

The Emperor kneeled down and whispered something only the General could
hear, "Now if only you'd worked as hard as your men have with me here, every
day, along side them, then maybe we could truly make some progress
. " And
with that, Mercerion stepped through the ropes, calling out for others to
put their unfinished business into the ring, and galvanize eachother here
together, amongst and amid their peers, brothers, and sisters
.





Writer: Agapitos

Date Sun May 12 18:34:15 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna Imm ( Storyline )

Subject Twilight Ruminations


The waning light shone bloody over the valley of the elves, the evening
breeze cool and gentle as it rustled the leaves in the serene valley. It
was a tranquil evening, one at odds with the disarray and disorder of the
world. Such juxtaposition sat poorly with the man who gazed over the
valley, corded arms folded over his chest. Agapitos di Lucis frowned as he
basked in the peaceful sunset, the restlessness in his body etched in the
uneasy cording of his neck and shoulders, bound tightly in his well-built
frame.

It was easy to look at the immensity of the world's disquiet and be
overwhelmed by such a task as redeeming it, and yet...

The Emperor of Althainia was ambitious, with aspirations to be a just liege,
a ruler worthy of the Light's blessing. He had piqued curiosity, and the
noble ambition resonated with the man, and so he had pledged his assistance
to the Althainian cause. Now, it was escort duty, a seemingly-trifling
exercise. Trust, however, was hard-formed. It would require the execution
of duties to foster, to prove the sincerity of his promise. It was easy to
pledge, harder to perform.

Agapitos's fingers found the hilt of Ascalon, drumming a tattoo on the
ornate pommel. The weapon's weight had become second-nature to him, a
reassurance that he was not defenseless. The weapon had seemed heavy once,
when he had first donned it. It was weighty not only in its hand-and-a-half
construction, but in the promises that the blade carried. Not only by him,
its latest bearer, but the man who had donned it before, who had passed its
burden unto him. Agapitos' brow furrowed as he recalled the face of that
man, his words, and his cause. It had been... Not easy to dismiss, but a
trifling thing, back then. More words he had heard among many, to the
regrettable end that hearing them had become routine. He had begun to
overlook the sincerity and the weight behind them, and the drive of men who
found the courage to speak the words as they had. Now...

The weapon slid from its ornate sheath, the bloody sunlight catching the
silvered blade and shining, not the crimson of the dying light, but catching
the faint golden hue of the dawn to come. The contemplative frown on his
features gradually melted into a smile, remembrance giving him a measure of
satisfaction as he turned his back on the familiar valley, preparing for the
trek back to Althainia. The next morning, he would escort the Steward of
the Kingdom northward. It was a safe route, one he had scouted much of the
way on his journey to the Valley, and he expected no trouble. That gave no
reason for indolence, however. The future of the Light rested with the
duties of Good men, and it had become his charge as well. Ascalon returned
to its sheath as he found the path that would carry him to the city. His
word was his bond. It was time now to prove the truth of the claim.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Sun May 12 21:44:40 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to war: Gryphonne



The journey from the Cadian province back to Althainia had been rather
uneventful and quiet. Most of the company traveling with the Emperor seemed
as grateful as she did to get away from the humid swamps. Though they would
need to get used to the heat and humidity long term, soon.

The stop over in Althainia was brief but needed for supplies. Jhonas had
given her a very puzzled look when she purchased a large amount of apples,
most of his current stock in fact. She just flashed him an innocent smile
and walked away carrying the bulging bag, they were needed for a few
reasons.

The Emperor traveled with a decent sized company but still, the Ambassador
never let her guard down. Too many years and too many assassination
attempts had long since taught her there were always threats lurking. Her
Kyorl training had only magnified it.

She kept a constant eye out as they rode along through the forest and toward
the next province, her free hand always staying close to her nearest sword.
Her hope was that she would not have to test her sword skills while on
horseback just yet. She would never be as good in mounted combat as she was
on her own two feet but still, she was trying to improve upon her skills.

When they arrived in the Gryphonne Province, Kyrlynn climbed down from her
saddle and reached for an apple in her pack. She fed it to her steed and
patted his side as she whispered low, 'Remember, you have to share some of
them. '

She handed the reins off to a squire who had approached her and then turned
around to see numerous eyes staring at her curiously. It seems word of the
Kyorl traveling with the Emperor was starting to spread. The whispers and
grins from some of the soldiers did not go unnoticed by Kyrlynn. Did they
notice her own grin though?

Challenges were coming. This was going to be fun and a welcome distraction
from the thoughts in her head.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Sun May 12 21:52:31 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to war: Training in Gryphonne (Part 1)



By mid week Kyrlynn had spent much of the first half of the week doing
sword training. The Gryphonne province was thankfully not among the swamps
so they were not dealing with rampant insects and sticky humid heat. She
was glad to keep busy and out of her own thoughts.

There was no shortage of soldiers, both men and women, who wanted to try
their hand against the sword work of a Kyorl. As she had done in Cadia,
Kyrlynn spent many hours sparring and offering tips on sword work. It
frustrated some of the men that she seemed to tire very little.

One particular captain had come to challenge her skills. He was rather
cocky about his own abilities and boasted that he'd be the one giving her
tips in a few moments. 'Captain, I assure you that no swordsman is without
fault or weakness, sometimes that weakness is ones own perception about
their own abilities. '

The man merely laughed and readied himself. A small crowd had gathered
around the two when Kyrlynn withdrew her swords and moved to face the
captain. At first, she merely kept a defensive position and some distance
between her and the Captain as she observed his moves.

It amused him that she had not yet made a move and so he began to taunt the
half elf. A mistake he would soon realize. Those who watched noticed a
change in the half elf's stance as she began to advance on the man, no sound
came from her lips but she was clearly dancing her song.

The sound of swords clashing rang out around the two as they fought. Each
time the Captain thought he had an opening, Kyrlynn either parried it
skillfully or turned the attack back on him. Her quick feet and even
quicker hands gave her an advantage he was not prepared for.

The Captain was clearly not without skill and though he managed a few good
hits, in the end he found himself on the ground with a blade pointed at his
throat. He had let his cockiness guide his judgment which had led to him
falling for a feigned opening. He was unable to recover when the elf
repositioned herself, using one sword to sweep his legs out from under him
while the other was ready to strike at his throat.

The Ambassador nodded and slipped both swords back into their scabbards.
She extended her hand out to the Captain and offered him a hand up. It took
him a moment but he finally took Kyrlynn's hand and stood up. He sulked a
bit as he started to walk off. 'Captain, I welcome any tips you wish to
give me. I've always more to learn, we all do, ' she called out to him but
he never slowed in his steps.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned back towards the group that had
gathered. 'Who's next? ' Suddenly, they All had things to do elsewhere, as
none spoke up and the group dispersed quickly. She feared the rest of the
week was going to be tough.




Writer: Rorra

Date Mon May 13 07:10:13 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 4



Sleep was quick to claim the felar after having remained awake for such a
long time. Her tail is kept held protectively within her arms in order to
prevent All manner of fauna from using it as their own bed. Initially
slipping into the dreamscape was fairly quick after having fallen asleep,
which was a welcome reprieve compared to the recent past for what she could
piece together.

Waking up deep within a forest unfamiliar to her, rolling clouds of fog
covered the forest, making it difficult to see too far out. That alone was
nothing strange enough to make her think twice about exploring a new
wilderness. Quietly making her way through the dense fog, taking notice of
a handful of trees that held ornamental trinkets of various gods. The
farther away from where she had woken up at, the more twisted the baubles
became as well as the more of Turpa's iconic symbols they adopted.

Nothing had truly stood out as strange beyond those trinkets though and so
she continued on her way, pushing past some low hanging branches and other
brush. One particular tree seemed to have the fog practically clinging to
it. When she held a few branches aside to step past it and a few other
larger bushes, the fog abruptly ended, leaving her standing within a
darkened alleyway. Hushed voices could be heard, though not quite
understood even with the felar's heightened senses.

She took several moments to compose herself before cautiously taking a peek
around the corner to find nothing but a deserted street. Still voices could
be heard and the closer she came to it, the more it sounded.. Odd.
Something as though it was not natural by any means. It did not take long
to find the source while skulking about this place. She remained mostly
hidden, only daring the occasionally take a quick look around the side of
the rundown building at the small gathering of beings. The air itself felt
different while near these strangers.

Her worst fears were realized soon after one of them pulled their hood of
while claiming it was stifling to wear hooded cloaks All the time here.
Though only having ever heard rumor and words of priests, even she knew,
this was Turpa herself. In that instant, a shadowy figure would appear in a
darkened mist behind the goddess and viciously impale her through the back.
The first time she heard that pained wail would bring her from the restless
sleep she had been in.

"No... No, haa.. Stop it.. "




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Mon May 13 08:33:02 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to war: Training in Gryphonne (Part 2)



The rest of the week had gone faster and better than anticipated. Though
soldiers were slow at first to approach Kyrlynn again, once they did she was
constantly busy. The captain did not challenge her again, he stopped on
occasion to observe her work with others but otherwise avoiding her
training.

She had intended for them to speak but the opportunity had yet to present
itself. Now they were amidst a full fledged practice assault. All around
Kyrlynn the hooves of the charge thundered. Swords in hand, she was ready
as she stalked along on foot.

The cataphracts were ahead of her and the knights that she moved alongside
of. She watched as the pike formation rose up but moments later the
cataphracts burst through the pikes successfully which allowed her and the
knights a path through.

She ran alongside the knights, her swords a blur as she made quick work of
dummies meant to stand as infantry. As she did so she watched the others,
proud of the improvements many of them had made. It was a fearsome sight to
watch happen but the aftermath was even more impressive.

Once the charge was done, she headed over towards the Emperor and General,
her ears picking up the conversation as she sheathed her swords in their
scabbards. She smirked as she walked by the two and called out, "You should
try keeping up with the Emperor first, then you might actually get to see
that sorry sap who tried to hit him"

The feast that night was grand and enjoyable though Kyrlynn ate little. She
enjoyed some conversation with the men and women around her, and kept a
close eye on the Emperor as always. He was in his element here so she kept
her distance and watched.

As always, he gave a good speech. He never ceased to impress her in that
regard. Everyone was listening so intently they hadn't noticed the ring
that now stood in the middle of the tent. They were even more shocked when
the Emperor himself climbed into it and called the General out.

Oh.. This will be good, she thought to herself and moved a bit so she could
have a clear view of the fight. The feeling of being watched pricked at her
and she glanced over to see the Captain's eyes on her, though he looked away
quickly.

At this point, she knew what was coming. She could see the writing on the
wall so to speak and so she began adjusting the wraps on her hands. She had
begun wearing them as a monk and continued even after becoming a Kyorl. Her
attention moved back to the Emperor and General as they sparred.

She was not at All surprised when the General ended up on the mat. Her and
the Emperor had fought along side each other on countless occasions so she
knew well that underestimating him was a mistake. As the Emperor exited the
ring, Kyrlynn's eyes followed him a moment.


(Continued in next storynote)




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Mon May 13 08:40:49 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to war: Training in Gryphonne (Part 2 continued)



'Hey Ambassador, we know you're good with a sword... Lets see how well you
do without them. ' Kyrlynn turned her gaze back to the ring and saw the
Captain sliding on a pair of sparring gloves. He tossed the other set
towards her and waited.

She could hear the Emperor laughing, whether he actually was or whether it
was in her head, didn't matter. Kyrlynn could sense his amusement as she
squared off with the clueless Captain.

This time around the ambassador didn't waste time being defensive, and
rather quickly nailed the captain with a body shot that left him doubled
over and gasping for air. 'Hells, you hit hard! '

'Know your opponent my good sir, I was a monk for a great many years. We're
good with our fists . ' The Captain cursed under his breath and advanced on
Kyrlynn. They traded a few body shots and the man stumbled back as a cross
connected with his jaw.

'Be glad she is wearing gloves. Those fists have been known to stop hearts,
' she heard the Emperor call out and she chuckled softly. The frustration
on the Captain's face was becoming evident and off to the side of the ring
some of the men under his command were snickering.

To most the next punch that Kyrlynn took looked like the Captain landed a
well executed left hook, right to the elf's face. It was intentional on her
part but likely only Mercerion realized that. None the less, he did land a
hard hit even if she had 'let' him and it did cause her to stumble a moment.

Some of the soldiers who had been snickering cheered for the Captain now.
The two continued their spar, both landing body shots on the other. Then
the Captain landed another shot to Kyrlynn's face, same side as before if
only a slight bit higher. She'd likely have a good sized black eye later.
The elf took the shot though and immediately noted the man had let his guard
down.

The combination that followed caught the captain unaware. She jabbed, which
he did manage to dodge somewhat, the hit glanced off his jaw but the
uppercut that followed sent the man sprawling to the mat. He shook his head
as he laid there and stared up at the Ambassador with a dazed look.
Removing her gloves, she leaned down and held her hand out as she spoke
softly, 'You're a good man Captain, a lot of potential to move up if you get
out of your own way and realize you can actually learn a lot from an
opponent and drop the cockiness. '

She pulled the Captain back to his feet and walked over to the ropes before
climbing out of the ring. As she walked by the Emperor, he raised his
eyebrows at her and started to speak, 'Did you just le-' Don't say it.. '
she grumbled and touched her cheek which was already swelling. Mercerion
chuckled and shook his head.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see the Captain
extending his hand to her. 'Captain Shackerd, Ma'am. I believe you have
some tips for me from our sword fight. ' She nodded and grinned as they
started walking, 'Glad you finally came around and I didn't have to break
your nose. '

'Me too. I'm too pretty for that! 'Captain? I'm not wearing gloves and I
still can. '

'Y-yes ma'am. Noted. The sword tips? ' The two walked off together as
they discussed sword techniques.




Writer: Nimiane

Date Mon May 13 13:02:18 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Leaving For Eastdrift


"Weapons, check. Food and supplies, check. Blankets among other
things... Check.
"

A young woman stood in the center of her room, checking off a list of
necessary supplies and items one would need to bring on an expedition,
things one needed to survive. Pursing her lips, Nimiane peered down at the
items before her. She felt as if she were forgetting a crucial thing. As
she seemed to think for a few moments, her thoughts were interrupted as an
object flew into her peripheral vision. Her imp of a guard by the name of
Pots, was going through her pack and tossing things left and right that she
had already packed up. "Oi! You little-" Her words were cut off as a book
came flying towards her, causing her to duck.

Silently cursing under her breath, Nimiane stalked towards Pots and
literally yanked his tail. Pots let out a noise and angrily started
speaking in a language that the girl could not understand, almost as if the
imp were trying to chide her. Nimiane just gave him one of her looks and
pointed to the items on the floor, "Put those back in the satchel. " Pots
started chittering again but grew quiet and quickly started to put the items
he had strewn over the floor when Nimiane's voice seethed with annoyance,
"Now! "

Watching as the imp stuffed items back into her satchel, the young woman
folded her arms over her chest, her gray gaze intent on her guard. Once the
imp had placed All the items he took from the satchel, Nimiane picked it up,
closed the satchel itself and slung the strap over her shoulder, her gaze
going back to the imp, "Come along. There's no use in leaving you behind.
My parents would likely kill me if they came back home and found things
missing or rearranged because of you.
" Pots gave her a baleful stare
before he chittered excitedly and then seemed to vanish into thin air with a
pop. Shaking her head, Nimiane headed out of her room and out of the
estate. Heading towards the woods, she heard a howl and knew Anor was near.
Letting out a whistle, she only had to wait a few moments before her gaze
spotted the dire wolf breaking through the trees, bounding towards her.

A broad smile appeared on her lips as she dropped to a knee as Anor stopped
near her. He gave a small whine in greeting when Nimiane's hand reached out
and gave his head a small pat. The young woman spoke softly to the dire
wolf before she rose to her feet and turned towards the two guards that were
assigned to her, "I won't be traveling with you by ship, but we will meet at
the encampment. Anor will be going with you..
" "M'lady.. " Nimiane
raised her hand, silencing the guard, "I won't be traveling alone. Again,
we will meet at the encampment.
" With that said, she vanished into the
woods, disappearing from sight.




Writer: Nimiane

Date Mon May 13 13:06:52 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - New Arrivals At Eastdrift


It did not take her long to reach the outskirts of the Dark Jewel and it
was there that she met up with Zethrindor. She gave a grin as she neared
him, calling out, "Ready for a grand adventure?!" Returning Nimiane's grin,
Zethrindor bobbed his head in acknowledgement and lowered his wing for her
to climb up onto his back, "Indeed. " Nimiane gave another smile before
climbing up onto Zethrindor's back, "Then to Icewall it is. " And with
that, the pair took to the skies and headed straight for Icewall.

A reflection of a white dragon could be seen on the waters if one were
looking that way. It did not take long for the pair to reach Icewall
itself. The young woman looked down below as they soared through the sky.
Nimiane's thoughts drifted for a moment, remembering as a child how her
parents spoke often of Eastdrift. There were days where she would listen to
conversations about it. She knew that one day she would join them in their
fight. And now was the time. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sheer
blast of ice cold wind and the young woman shook her head. She somehow
sensed her companion's concern and gave Zethrindor's neck a pat, letting him
know she was alright.

Continuing on, the pair reached the outskirts of Eastdrift and Nimiane
pointed out the encampment first before her gray eyes scanned for a ledge.
Spotting one, she gently nudged Zethrindor and pointed out the ledge,
"There. Land there. " Giving a nod, the white dragon swooped down and
gracefully landed on the ledge. He let out a huff and quipped at the young
woman, "Her bag is heavier than she is! " The young woman just grinned,
"Carrying everything but the kitchen sink! " Zethrindor turned his head to
bump the young woman with his snout and Nimiane let out a laugh before she
slid off of Zethrindor's back just as guards and others came up from the
encampment to greet them, giving salutes. Nimiane returned the salute, her
attention briefly turning to her companion to make sure he was settled
before her voice called out, "What news?! "




Writer: Ithelim

Date Tue May 14 17:46:49 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Vincent Nehtur All Imm RP Religion Ampersand Cayenna Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Shimmermist to Catacombs


Aftershocks rumbled through the underground, shaking pieces of debris and
dust from the ceilings, covering the heads of those who survived the battle
on the surface. Exhaustion showed upon their faces along with a look of
defeat. They had lost nearly All their comrades following the three leaders
before them. To lose a comrade in the line of duty was one they were all
prepared for, but it didnt make it easier. They had dined, trained, and
become brethren in their time within Storm Keep. Now they were gone. No
bodies to bring back to their families, no belongings to keep as a memento.
It was as if they were never there to begin with except for the gaping void
where their presence used to be.

The three supplicants sat there, quiet, eyes glazed over as they relived the
panicked retreat. The sounds of the horde of Ghul closing in around them
echoing within their minds, wounds forgotten.

***************************************************************************-

Ithelim turned from the doorway and stared at the three as they huddled
together. This was their first real battle, and that battle had been bloody
indeed. It was by sheer luck that those who were left of the expedition had
been able to get down into the mausoleum beneath the temple above. Just
from what he had seen after breaking down the decrepit door, the pathways
lead deeper and further away from where they stood, where they actually went
and how far, was to be found in their expedition. They would need to rest
up before going, though, and see to wounds that might fester if left
untreated.

***************************************************************************-

The supplicant winced as he tried to move, his adrenaline was waning
finally, but with that came All the problems and pains. He placed his hand
to his stomach and felt the warm sensation of his blood, could now taste it
in his mouth as it came bubbling up from his innards. He knew this wound.
Could even see it in the eyes of the High Mystic as he came over. There was
not much time left for him. He would never know another night in the
embrace of a woman. Would never smell again the bread from his family's
bakery. He would die down here in this fitting place. He was already
entombed. Yet for every resentment he felt, he also felt pride in
performing his duties, in pushing forth the Prophecy and seeing the realm
readied for Necrucifers return. He had done his best and knew there would
be songs to be sung about this endeavor and he would be within them.

He turned to say goodbye to the others and stopped, for they were already
gone. The High Mystic closing their eyes before he turned to him. He tried
to say his last words but the blood ran thick out of his mouth. He coughed
and shook his head. He closed his eyes and felt the High Mystics hand on
his forehead, gentle.

*************************************************************************

Ithelim uttered a prayer for All three of the supplicants as the life flowed
out of the last. They had performed their duties to the end and there would
be no higher praise for them. To God they would go, wherever His spirit was
to be found. For himself, the Chancellor and the Master of the Rose, their
duties would continue on down this path they found themselves in. To follow
it to the end with hopes of resurrecting their Lord God.

He stood and gloved his hands once more. They are gone from this world. It
is just us, now. We need to continue on. Ill take point for now.
With a
flick of his wrist he summoned forth the darkened light and made down the
only path that laid before them. The names of those who passed cycling in
his mind.




Writer: Maccus

Date Tue May 14 17:52:48 2019




Writer: Maccus

Date Tue May 14 17:55:09 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Tue May 14 20:20:04 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 5



Ever since that nightmare disturbed her sleep, she didn't want to even
go to sleep when the opportunity presented itself. Every time she would
succumb to its grasp, the same horrifying instance would play out without
fail. Sometimes it would last longer, forcing her to listen to the death
cries of her Goddess while other times it was as though time would freeze
and her vision would be pulled to witness the event from the other side,
forced to watch the tip of the spear emerge.

So much time would be spent awake between any storms that would pass by or
otherwise fearing that if she slept, the nightmares would return again. The
mere thought of being forced to witness the event again and again was more
than enough to not want to sleep no matter how badly she needed it. It was
to a point now that even her fur had lost its usual luster, becoming darker
and dingy overall.

No matter how many times she would bathe herself, bringing her fur back to
its once pristine condition seemed impossible. Even going so far as to use
all manner of herbs or petals from various flowers, none of them would see
the fur restored. Over the course of the months in which she would make it
a routine habit to cleanse the fur in some vain attempt to do what she could
to keep the nightmarish imagery from her mind. This would also serve a
purpose of keeping herself awake that much longer as it kept her busy
between keeping herself fed well enough to not collapse from hunger.

Every so often she would nod off while resting against a tree, lasting for a
few hours at least most of the time, but it always ended up the same. The
gruesome scene was pushing her beyond a breaking point. Sleep was nothing
but a curse to her as well now, only bringing her back through the visions
of her Goddess death. All that she had come to know and love was gone in a
brief instant.

Just before she would fall unconscious once again while trying to eat a few
raw fish, a strange, yet familiar voice came to her ears. She could not
understand it even when it brought her from the brink of sleep. It sounded
muddled in that maybe her hearing was beginning to fail her beyond just the
storms. It was gone again as quick as it had come, leaving her with nothing
but the terrors of her mind to contend with once again.




Writer: Telthian

Date Tue May 14 21:04:39 2019

To All Verminasia Shadow Eclipse ( Religion Scorn Necrucifer )

Subject Lost City - Sow the Wind - I


-*-

The sun was barely above the horizon, too low to cast its light directly
upon the ruined foundry. Remains of butchered ghul lie trampled in the wake
of the dark knights, and signs of carnage bold enough to paint the direction
of their charge painted the path slick with black putrefied blood.

They swarmed, just out of reach of their defiant prey. Dozens of twisted
beasts howling with outrage and screeching with a tempests rage at the
humans buried behind the dubious safety of stone. Back within the foundry,
the protean source consumed the arcanaeum as quickly as it was fed into the
forge, sputtering as it cast a gleaming spectrum of color beyond the visible
spectrum.

This objective was imperative, and Telthian sustained the source with
outstretched limb, feeding it both arcanaeum and vitality. In a fit of
rage, Mencius scarred the priest's hands so many years ago, robbing him of
sensation. The forge was no more kind, feeding upon that tenuous connection
that binds a soul in its place, until finally, until finally, a critical
mass was reached. Telthian grit his teeth, his brow knit with exertion as
he steeled himself against the high pitched rushing of air, buoyed from the
dark currents welling up from the subterranean lake below and into the mouth
of the forge.

Shimmermist roared to back life, spewing a column of greasy blackness into
the air it could sustain itself as if it expelled the very putrescence that
had clung to the permafrost, turning thousands of eyes to fixate upon it in
disregard for distance or context.

As they did, something cold scratched a path deep within Telthian's mind,
just beyond the seat of his senses. Once more, an unaccountable feeling
that he had done this All before settled upon him. It did not make sense,
and almost immediately small fragments of false memory clustered around him
as if to redefine the present.

The orange glow of the source drew him back. There was a sense of waking
from a nightmare only to find oneself still in it, and upon his list of
concerns there appeared a new entry. Rekindling the forge had affirmed his
suspicions, and somewhere within the wastes a singular consciousness, one
stitched together from so many discarded pieces, had placed them under the
lens of its awareness.


-*-




Writer: Telthian

Date Tue May 14 21:08:45 2019

To All Verminasia Shadow Eclipse ( Religion Scorn Necrucifer )

Subject Lost City - Sow the Wind II


-*-

The ground heaved beneath their feet as a tremor rolled through the
subterranean places and into the world above. King and Kingsguard alike
staggered within the inner chamber, scrambling to support themselves on
whatever fixed object they could.

Dust and grit rained down from overhead, and it was stretching coincidence a
little far to believe that the tremor was unrelated. Dusting himself off,
Telthian rose to his feet and took account of their circumstance, taking a
moment to reacquainted the pitted sinew, muscle and bone of his hands with
thick, leather gloves.

Sharing a glance at his brothers, the old Warden cleared his throat, 'Sire,
was that us?'

Arching raven a brow in reply, Telthian's attention turned to the Warden,
his slate gaze hard in the fickle light of the chamber. 'No. Before where
we were but a passing nuisance, now we have become a clear threat.'

Telthian paused to brush grit and mortar from his shoulders. 'We need to
work, and quickly. These ghul are more than just cadaver-chewers. They
appear bestial, but there is a wide-spanning intelligence behind them.'

The forge was lit, and so long as they held this ground, it remained beyond
the grasp of the ghul. Soon, the Eclipse would be scour what remained of
the monastery, and if the Winds were true, the researches of yinn hundreds
of years dead would inform the use of the foundry in construction of the
Ark. The Knights of Storm and Verminasia would soon converge upon this
point in its defense.

Until then, bundled rows of swords, spearheads, and daggers waited to be
tempered. Not wrought upon a crude anvil with rough blows, but with inhuman
precision and reshaped by the smoldering remnant of a forgotten god with no
name.

Telthian prepared the weapons, imbuing each with divinity manifest in blood
and a grim determination. One by one the blades would be fed into the
spellforge and reshaped by Shimmermist, exacting a cost from the smith
measured in years.

Prayers were offered, letters exchanged, and plans made should the weight of
their estimates fall short. With each pass of steel through the prismatic
glow the burden of time, and the task ahead grew heavier upon them.

-*-




Writer: Telthian

Date Tue May 14 21:11:16 2019

To All Verminasia Shadow Eclipse ( Religion Scorn Necrucifer )

Subject Lost City - Shadows Linger - II


-*-

Dae'tok was a very different city than the twin counterparts of Althania and
Verminasia. Though it was larger, it seemed to owe less to the realms of
mortals in its architecture known across Algoron.

The city itself was terraced, but in such a way as to make the ranks of
Dae'tok seem sweeping and imperial. The streets rose and fell steeply and,
as a result, were frequently stepped. Once, visitors and merchants bore
their cargoes carried on the sharply angled roads that ran across terraced
levels, while the ruling caste rode by procession up and down the
interstitial stepped boulevards overhead.

Broad archways bent upon the highways of the city, archways upon which stood
more buildings of the same dark purple porphyry, of which much of Dae'tok
seemed to have been built. It gave an impression of great solidity, power,
and unfathomable age.

Porphyry was difficult to cut, and heavy weather must have been made of it,
craftsmen loathing the stuff for its hardness but loving it for its color,
finish, and resistance to not only the elements, but to the engines of war.
Vast quantities of the stone were in evidence here, sufficient in quantity
to raise the question of just how large a quarry would have to be opened in
the side of a nearby volcano to supply such gargantuan loads of the
distinctive stone. And yet, no such quarry existed within the frozen
terrain.

Such a stone had been chosen because it reasonably matched the environment,
emenanting permanece, which was better than gold when weighed against the
long, erosive arc of time. By contrast the cities of men, elves, and
dwarves tended more towards the romantic common to them all. Shaped in
marble and gold, and steeped in a romantic, self-congratulatory narrative
that they alone were the ascendant civilization and All the others were
barbarians scraping out an existence in the muck.

-*-




Writer: Telthian

Date Tue May 14 21:14:52 2019

To All Verminasia Shadow Eclipse ( Religion Scorn Necrucifer )

Subject Lost City - Shadows Linger - III


-*-

The real history of this world is unromantic, it is steeped in greed and
blood and self-inflicted wounds. An endless parade of self-proclaimed
Kings, Emperors and Sultans marching off to glory before either becoming
lost in a desert of their own making and withering away or overthrown by one
of their own who insisted they were somehow more worthy. All this until the
cycle repeats itself.

Every now and then there was a passing pretence of something greater, but
given enough time, the restless, hateful, atavistic hearts of mortality
would tear down the towers and slide back into disorder, All while clamoring
with glee.

Once, Dae'tok had been a great empire, renowned far and wide for the
strength of its commerce, the creativity of its artists, the prowess of its
martial forces, and to the few that knew what hid beneath the veneer, the
depths of its depravities.

In its hubris, not even its collective wisdom and mastery of the firmament
of the world was sufficient to forestall its destruction.

Decadence loves the taste of blood, even though it is poison.

-*-




Writer: Maccus

Date Tue May 14 22:16:49 2019

To Verminasia Eclipse Storm All RP Cayenna Ampersand Religion

Subject Lost City - Change of Plans'


He had to be quick, his plans changed faster than he had accounted for,
hoping for just a little longer to heal. He had secured the forces from
Verminasia and Eclipse.

Commotion was set about in Eastdrift, knowing that the first outpost would
be built, and built quickly after the some seventy men left. Several wagons
full of necessary materials, including spades, saws, hammers and other tools
were held. Another set of wagons carried supplies to make sure the barracks
were properly warmed so that soldiers wouldn't freeze.

Maccus was in constant communication with Jermichael, Riordan, Rasavadi, the
King and Queen so that All would know and keep communication lines clear and
focused. Jermichael has already dispatched three knights and a group of
petitioners toward the first marker. Maccus would take his combined group
of seventy men, a mixture of Verminasia and Eclipse, whatever else came
would march to catch him.

The night passed as supplies, men and wagons were All prepared. Maccus made
one final stop, heading toward his shared tent with the Admiral of
Verminasia and his wife, Sofka. He peek into the tent first, checking to
see if Sofka was sleeping, and was met with a tight embrace and a soft
whisper, 'Be safe, my thief'. The exchanged lasted a few moments longer as
dawn began to rise and the captains called out.

The march and build to Shimmermist had begun.




Writer: Jermichael

Date Tue May 14 22:39:31 2019




Writer: Xanthania

Date Wed May 15 07:07:20 2019




Writer: Xanthania

Date Wed May 15 07:49:58 2019




Writer: Xanthania

Date Wed May 15 07:59:13 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Wed May 15 10:49:12 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Sinking Into Insanity - chapter 6



The voice would return every so often after she had done All that she
could to keep herself from experiencing that dreaded scene again. When it
would make itself known, the felar would sit down somewhere dry and listen,
trying to understand what it is the voice wanted. The longer she sat, the
closer she came to losing the war against the ever encroaching grasp of
slumber. At least one time she thought she had heard something clearer, an
actual word, but the droning of the voice would have always put her in a
relaxed state that lost most focus on the world around her.

All of these moments in time would be spread several days apart and each one
would result in her succumbing to the sleep she strived so keep at bay as
much as possible. At times there was no simple means of waking from such a
deep and much needed slumber, which only ever serves to fuel the nightmarish
visions. After a time, her own subconscious began to twist it in new ways
that may or may not have happened. Some would even place her as the
assassin to her own Goddess death. They were becoming All too normal
anymore to let them wake her so easily, screaming in the aftermath of seeing
the horrific events unfold yet again.

Again that same voice would speak to her, making her wonder where it was
coming from. A curious crow decided to perch on the tree she had just
recently been sleeping beneath. Just as it would caw and squawk for All it
was worth, it came again. It couldnt truly have come from this bird, could
it? Moving slowly to avoid scaring it away, she sat silently on her
haunches, waiting for it to speak again.

"Come on.. Just say what you want to. I will listen, I promise. "

The crow merely craned its neck, looking at the felar, cawing randomly as it
seemed to seek an audience or at the least to annoying anything nearby. She
did as she said and sat there, listening to the sounds it would make.
Sometimes it would make a sound as the voice would come again and it would
give her hope of understanding it more so than a muffled and unintelligible
mess of words and syllables. It didnt matter to her whether or not she
could actually make sense of what the crow wanted. Only that it would
provide some sense of clarity where there otherwise is none to be found.




Writer: Maccus

Date Wed May 15 13:45:32 2019

To Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Imm Cayenna Ampersand RP

Subject Lost City - Dusk to Dawn


If his men were exhausted, they did not complain or show. They made
their way to the first marker by sunset. The marker had remained, he turned
to Draphinamina who walked with him, 'Ride hard and swift. We will not
remain here long after it's built. Find us a good spot coming up.
'.

Yet fatigue did indeed set in. He looked out over his men, some shaking,
others yawning. He knew they needed sleep, but building and setting the
perimeter along with watch detail was All important. He scanned his men as
they rounded the large red marker. Jermichael had already dispatched three
knights and some twenty supplicants, a boon for Maccus as they'd be somewhat
rested. Reaching out to the marker and with several hushed words it began
to rise from the ground, 'CAPTAINS. SET THE WATCH. STORM, YOU AND THE
SUPPLICANTS SET THE PERIMETER.
'

With a rush the Captains and Storm Keep set about their tasks, setting up
what would be the four corners of the outpost. They had surveyed the area
before hand, setting up what would be essentially partial deforestation.
'ARCHERS, KEEP STANDING, KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN AND COMMUNICATE', a captain
from Eclipse called out, each group of men and women stemming to where they
needed before the rest began pitching tents for those who would be lucky
enough to sleep.

They worked through the night building basic defenses, including several
sets of barricades around where they desired to defend. What they were
doing was not easy, and every single man and woman had a part to play in it.
Men and women alike silently groaned and complained. Yet All did their
part. Soon the wagons began to be unloaded, and shifts had been set.

Then began the hard part, building the palisade and the interior of the
outpost.




Writer: Uruvion

Date Wed May 15 14:35:43 2019

To All Shalonesti Althainia Zandreya Cayenna

Subject FOB



Juelian and Uruvion had spoken several times at length through out the
days. The Eldritch had spoken to Mercerion and others as well. The clan of
Shalonesti would aid Althainia, and Uruvion was ready to do what he could
and provide Mercerion's people. After finding out what was needed from the
Emperor of Althainia, the elf of the Arlathil prepared in his mind, then
prepared for a small trip with his gryffon.

He'd be going alone again. This should sit well with some.. He pulled the
brim of his hat down some, taking in a familiar scent that lingered on the
sturdy and thick silksteel. His gryffon, Isobo, eyed him, not stirring or
ruffling her feathers. She didn't even give him a hard time as she was akin
to do most of the time she was around him. Instead she was behaving,
knowing what was at hand, knowing how Uruvion and the High Keeper felt about
the Warp. She was a gift from Zandreya, and she was part of the many gifts
the Eldritch were given to combat Malachive and his forces.

"Tropica. Just going to look for now. No eating people. That's later."
Isobo let out a sigh and nodded her head, seeming disappointed. Uruvion
gave her a gentle pat on the beak before swinging a leg over her back and
mounting the four-legged flying creature.

The air in the sky smelled clean as clouds gave cover to the Eldritch and
his gryffon. He gave her a small and gentle pat on the side of her hind
quarter, giving the signal to hover for a moment. A small telescope was dug
out from the inside pocket of his duster and brought to his eye. The portal
to the Warp was seen and made evident by spatterings of men and women around
the entrance, some entering and disappearing, while some stepped out.

Too close. He thought as he held the telescope in a gloved hand and
signaled with a nod to Isobo who was looking back at him to head westward in
the sky. The two would scout an area for operations in a more quiet and
secluded location on Tropica.

The clouds still provided cover and another signal was given to Isobo to
hold her position while the telescope was brought back to Uruvion's eye.
"This'll do pretty fine I think." Isobo's wings kept flapping slowly to
hover high above a clearing. The elf of the Fray nodded, "Let's head back
and let them know we found our spot."


Isobo snapped her beak and stayed in the clouds as she glided along the with
the current of air. "You'll get your snack. Promise." The gryffon
grunted as she flew the Eldritch and herself home.




Writer: Cieran

Date Wed May 15 16:39:53 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna Xanthania

Subject Road to War: An Unexpected Turn



"No, no, no! As you thrust you step into the man, you have to knock him
back off his balance, then you trap the arm and give him a toss.
" Cieran
stepped in between the two privates, illustrating his point as he hip tossed
one of them into the muck, keeping hold of the man's disarmed blade. "Like
that, you see?
" The standing private nodded emphatically as the other
rubbed at his eyes and stood once more. "Good, then go again. "

Cieran watched the two spar for a moment, nodding his approval as he saw the
exercise go properly before he turned his attention to a Sergeant who had
just come running up to stand at attention after a quick salute. "Out with
it man, you look like you might burst. By the gods what could be so
important?
" The Sergeant steadied himself and delivered his report, "Sir,
one of the roaming patrols, they reported a disturbance, or rather what
looked like one, not far from camp.
" Cieran narrowed his eyes at the news,
eyeing the Sergeant for a moment before motioning for him to lead on.

A short trek later they arrived at a small clearing in the swamps, several
of his guards were wandering about the area before a Captain noticed Cieran
and quickly made his way over. "Report", Cieran said calmly. "Aye sir,
signs of a fight. Seems an ambush was waiting for the Princess from Abaddon
and her guard. By the looks of things a couple of the guards got away with
her and headed for home in a hurry.
" Cieran knelt in the mud as he
listened to the report, silent until the very end, his eyes running over the
ground before him as his fingers dug into boot impressions left behind until
the Captain stopped speaking. "No Captain... " Cieran shook his head ever
so slightly, his eyes focused on a rather large set of impressions heading
off into the wilds, "She was taken, and they went that way. You and you"
Cieran pointed out two nearbye soldiers," with me. Captain you head back
and see to the camp until I get back. These two and I will go hunting.
"
Without waiting for confirmation Cieran set off at a steady pace, his gaze
on the ground before him.




Writer: Vyasa

Date Wed May 15 17:55:32 2019




Writer: Maccus

Date Wed May 15 18:28:43 2019




Writer: Geirhart

Date Wed May 15 21:35:17 2019

To Althainia All Cayenna Austinian Imm Rp

Subject The Road to War: Supplying the War II



Geirhart rode down the dusty road on his mount as the sun rose over the
western mountain range. The journey had been calm as Agapitos and the
Emperor had noted. Now the road started to incline as the hills turned into
the foundation of the mountains.

The wind brought with it a slight chill. The maple and ash trees turned
into towering pines. Certainly no Vallenwood but still a goodly age. If
there were many of these trees ahead, his report to the Emperor would be
positive. Ofcol had been an easy task since he knew how to speak to farmers
but this village was home to lumberjacks and miners. A different sort of
folk. He hoped he could speak to them as easily.

Agapitos and Niarythma were fine companions though they seemed to have
little in common. Agapitos, a warrior with an ancient blade. He had a
paladin's bearing and understanding of faith. Niarythma was more reserved
but there was a fire behind her eyes.

As they crested the hill, he noted home fires burning and the smell of
horses and food wafted towards him. It reminded him that his breakfast had
been a cold bit of jerky. Perhaps they could stop for something warm. He
smiled at the thought of some nice crisp bacon and eggs. So lost in
thought, it took him a moment to hear the commotion.

The home fires were not from chimneys. Indeed they were from torches, many
torches. And a large man with was yelling while standing upon a cart of
some sort. He slowed his horse down to see if he could catch what was being
said.

'This is our land! Our forefathers were given it by Emperor Serak! Those
elves from the Valley have no claim! We must defend our livelyhood! These
are our trees and no one is going to stop us from supporting our families
and tending to our livelyhood!
'

'If its a fight they want then lets give it to em! '

Geirhart watched the mob cheer and thought of his bacon. Perhaps things wouldn't go so smoothly.




Writer: Cettoce

Date Wed May 15 21:46:46 2019

To All Verminasia Eclipse Shadow Imm Cayenna Ampersand RP

Subject Lost City - Roaring Sky


Constant snowfall was an annoyance to her as it obscured the details in
her far vision. Through the haze, she saw the crumbling ruins of the vast
place that was once called Dae'tok. As she soared over the ruins in large
searching patterns, she ached to be free from this frozen waste and back to
her dunes of hot sand. Such simple desires would not be in her near future
for some time, and now she is on the hunt.

Below, her she was able to make out the figures of ghuls in small bands
sweeping the city looking for anything to hunt and consume. She noticeds
several of the creatures converging on one of the stronger ruined buildings.
As she flew towards that direction, she saw darts of flames and the
tale-tale signs of fighting. She contemplates for a moment if these mortals
battling before her found the Queen or if they were unlucky to gain the
notice of the creatures that roam this forgotten place.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the ground below her shook, and smoke
towards the north rises. With jubilation of the lit forge, she lets out a
roar and casts her lightning breath on several of the ghuls below, searing
their flesh and killing them in their tracks. It is then she could see the
uniforms of the mortals and discern that they were the guards sent for the
Queen.

With renewed vigor, she swooped down in an open area and picked up a ghul in
her massive talons to carry it above the building only to drop it on its
comrades. She continued to blast the ghuls with her lighting or using one
of them as ammunition against the remaining until their numbers thinned and
the trapped guards emerged from their makeshift fortification with the Queen
secured.

As the guards moved, she continued to soar around them high in the air,
providing areal coverage as needed until they reach their next destination.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Wed May 15 22:23:02 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War V: Words, Swords, and Vows.



The days following the feast had become quite eventful. The sparring
ring had worked wonders for releiving tensions, and helping to galvanize the
mend and women. Throughout the night men and women settled differences, put
aside grudges, and put on a show of it for those whom had come to feast.

After the sparring matches, men and women were seen together preparing,
talking, and sharing in the merriment and betterment of their brotherhood.
It was heartening to see, especially given the risk of pitting people
against eachother in combat. The Emperor didn't wish to leave, but couriers
had arrived, carrying news of trouble near Deimos, as well as with the
encampment in Cadia. Fortunately from here in Gryphonne, it was the same
direction for both.

The Althainian party did not take long to prepare a departure, and news of
their departure spread quickly. Both the Captain and the General whom had
sparred with members of the Althainian party were present in short order,
and had called for their troops to see the Emperor out. The work with the
Cavalry and the Cataphract knights had shown well, and they would continue
to improve and drill until they were called upon for the invasion.

Mercerion had chosen now to ride to Deimos, the province north of Abaddon,
which was also home to Gareth Keep. If he were completely honest with
himself, it was hope he would stop by the keep and speak with Thrakhath,
regarding the tensions that had arisen. Much history existed between the
organizations at play, and he would not see this squandered.

The ride back from Gryphonne was rather uneventful, if not swift. The party
made its way through the city of Althainia proper, and he stopped to speak
briefly with the Steward, before continuing out the west gate. The time
would come when he would need to do quite a bit of talking. First with
Gareth, then when he turns southwest, back towards Cadia. But first things
first. The Emperor spurred his horse onward, and the party picked up the
pace into the Deimos province.





Writer: Xanthania

Date Thu May 16 08:50:05 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Thu May 16 12:05:13 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 1



The crow kept coming back day after day. She had begun to feed the crow
the scraps she could no longer bear the eat herself. It seemed pleased at
the offerings at least. Perhaps enough so that it would speak again, but it
had been over a week since the last time she heard the voice. It seemed
especially happy about the only half-eaten rabbit she didn't have the
stomach to eat herself anymore.

She sat idly by while it feasted on the bits and pieces, tearing out one of
its eyeballs. It made her flinch briefly, but she watched and waited for it
to speak again. Every time it would cry out in its familiar caw, her ears
would instinctively perk up. Nothing yet, but she would wait for when the
time was right. For now, no matter how badly she wanted to not see the
nightmares again, she needed to sleep.

Leaning back against a sizable boulder, she closed her eyes and almost in an
instant was fast asleep. It was strange, but this one would begin with the
crow perched atop a nearby building. Its caw was extremely loud, forcing
her to cover her ears, but by the time she felt it was safe, the bird had
launched itself into a dive straight towards her. Taking a step back in
shock, it vanished mere inches from ramming into her.

At this point the dream proceeded as it always did, just with the minor
addition of a crow sitting on a nearby bench. Where it would quickly turn
into the nightmarish visions she had seen so many times before, it was
common enough to have little to no effect on her already addled mind. Even
being forced to watch the spear exit through the front of Turpa's chest
would merely make her lay her ears back and dip her head down in reverence.

Several hours later she would awaken to the crow sitting on her leg, staring
at her. She would wait for a few minutes, hoping for something to come from
it. Drawing her legs up in order to allow her to rest her head upon them
would cause the bird to fly away up into the nearby treetops. Even then it
watched her, seeming as though it was waiting for its next meal.




Writer: Maccus

Date Thu May 16 12:12:05 2019

To Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Cayenna Ampersand Imm RP

Subject Lost City - Doing it right


Building the palisade proved easy, yet back breaking work. Digging the
trench and casting the dirt to the inside where the walls would be, this
would give support in which the wall would desperately need, as much of the
weight would be leaning against it. Within they trench they dug a single,
narrow trench that would house they most reliable wood type that they could
find that would not rot. They would repeat this till one end met the other,
giving the palisade a slight curve near where the corners would meet. This
was done so that there would be a sturdy anchor and base. From there they
would begin laying the wood in such a way that they could be "stapled"
together with a band of iron. Once completed they would build the wall up,
eight feet high while the platform would go to about six and a half, and
large enough to fit two men front to back without issue.

The construction within the fort was much easier, building barracks,
stables, latrines and even a mess hall came and passed quickly. Yet still,
none had truly slept much yet.

When half the troops were not building, they drilled and trained. Getting
the men and women better accustomed to some of the weaponry Maccus wanted
them to use should they run into more Wight or even worse, Ghul. The Ghul
would not stop or halt if a leader died. They needed to be crushed and
swiftly. With a shout Maccus called for those drilling 'SHIELD WALL!! '.
With a scamper the men and women filed in, pushing their shields together,
forming a tight shield wall. 'WALL.... ADVANCE'. With silent dedication,
the soldiers lifted their shields, and with a yell they advanced once large
pace. He watched now as they continued to advance, foot by foot, the steady
rhythm of shield moving up and then back down drowned out the screeching
wind. 'WALL, DISENGAGE!!! ARCHERS, TO THE REAR, DOUBLE TIME'. With a
little scuffle some twenty archers began to advance with the formation,
keeping themselves ready to fire. While this happened the wall began to
move back. Checking to see if they had any 'wounded' as he had drilled
within their heads that every man and woman counted, getting them back up
and fighting was almost as needed as the fort was.

Maccus watched with an expression of unease. The men and women had been
advancing well, but he was not confident they'd stand against a full horde
of Ghul. 'SPEARS FORWARD! '. With an almost unequal grace, the company
pushed forward between the cracks of the shield wall with six foot spears,
in which they could slash, stab and jab with. He watched, seeming impressed
for a moment before he shouts 'WALL, CURVE!!! DEFEND THOSE FLANKS!! ' The
men and women curved some, forming a semi-circle. 'SPEARS BACK, SWORDS
FORWARD
'. The dropping of spears could be heard as the spearmen moved back,
and the mass rattle of metal against metal could be heard, now swords poised
and ready. WALL..... CHARGE!!! '. With that the men and women broke
their wall, and began a full sprint across the open ground within the fort.
Once they reached the opposite side he shouts 'INFANTRY, DISMISSED'. He
watched the men and women, including the captains exhale in relief, almost
expecting Maccus to run them.

Maccus turned and examined the construction, another week and they would be
moving on, and the new defenders would be arriving, releasing them and
allowing them to march ever closer to Shimmermist.




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Thu May 16 12:43:04 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Weathering the Storm


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

The snow had begun to fall in earnest, burying the path of fallen ghul and
the bodies of two of their own behind them. The winds whipped the snow
about, making it hard to see those that held the front lines . The
firstborn, Cettoce, flew overhead, elegant glimpses of blue visible through
the storm as flashes of lightning lit the skies.

The screams of the ghul came from every direction, some near by enough to
raise alarm. The direwolf circled the small group, occasionally picking off
a creature as it tested their defenses. As they neared the bridge, the
horde assaulted the small party of soldiers trying to divide them. Their
attacks were coordinated. Despite the rot, their actions showed
intelligence and planning. As the ghul fell others replaced them. For
every one they killed another converged upon them from the storm.

The ghul shrieked as it lurched at her from the snow fall, bursting from the
endless rain of white to swipe her. She planted her boot in the center of
its chest and shoved it backward, sword lifting to ready before it lurched
forward again. The crimson sword wrought forth a sickening crunch as it
sunk through the ghul's wind pipe.

Still it snapped at Ashtiel until she twisted the blade and pulled it
sideways, half decapitating the creature as she tore her weapon free. She
booted the ghul away from her again. The blue descended, a crackle of
static in the air the only warning before a blast of lightning sent a group
of ghul into the river. Ashtiel retreated to reform with the others as they
fought their way across the bridge.

Thus far they had been fortunate. The majority of the ghul they encountered
had not been focused on their retreat, the main bulk of the swarm distracted
by the column of smoke that signaled the relighting of the forge. This gave
the Verminasians the advantage needed to make good on their escape. The
arrival of the blue had been a godsend. Cettoce cut a path for them to
safety.

Miles lay between their small group and Eastdrift. The ghul had a head
start toward the mines. The Verminasians had little chance of catching up
with them in time to make a difference for any caught between the swarm and
Shimmermist.

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Thu May 16 12:52:01 2019

To All ( Scorn Necrucifer Imm Religion )

Subject Lost City - Weathering the Storm - Part II


--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--

They halted once they crossed the river, the small group circling together
to rest. The mighty blue landed to shield them from the storm with one
outstretched wing. Ashtiel shook the snow from her cloak and turned to
Rothych as he approached to crouch beside her. 'A wiser man would keep his
distance from you.
' He eyed the satchel hanging over her shoulder
pointedly as he spoke. The box within still emitted the annoying buzz but
the bag seemed to stifle it enough to make it bearable.

'Well if it explodes, I've enough grenades to kill us all, regardless of how
close you stand. Unless you wish to run ahead a mile or two. We're close
enough to Dra'strit. Maybe you could borrow a horse from Rasavadi's men.
'
His answering look said he was considering it and she chuckled softly.
'Have no fear. Our paths diverge. I need you to take Etehnu and return to
Eastdrift. Reinforcements need be sent in two parties. One to assist the
Stormbound in securing the mines and the other to the foundry if we've any
hope of putting either to use.
'

'And what do you intend to be doing on your own? ' His look demanded an
answer and he was not going to move until she gave him one.

'I am going to the foundry. Our King and those of Storm will venture there
now that the forge is lit.
'

'Just going to march there by yourself? ' He raised a brow at her in
amusement.

Ashtiel rummaged through her pocket, making a soft sound of frustration
before her fingers located the object she sought and she pulled it free.
She held the windchime aloft so Rothych could see it and the glass
snowflakes glittered in the light of his torch.

'Wrong on both counts. I'll not be alone and I don't intend to march
anywhere. I'm going to hitch a ride.
'

The Crownguard and the mighty blue remained with their Queen until Ezessinth
arrived. The majestic white appeared like a low hanging cloud overhead,
soaring through the wind and snow with agile grace and spiraled as she
descended to land.

Ashtiel grinned up at Ezessinth as she landed and waited for the wyrm to
extend a wing before she climbed onto the white's back. She called out to
Rothych. 'Cettoce, Ezessinth, and I will see you at the foundry. Safe
travels, Commander.
'

--<>--<>--<>--<>--<>--




Writer: Draphinamina

Date Thu May 16 15:48:39 2019

To Shadow Vermonasia Eclipse All Imm RP Ampersand Cayenna ( Necrucifer )

Subject The Cave - Part 1 of 2


Maccus had healed quite fast, really. Draphinamina had busied herself
with gathering up some more supplies. She did not like being in crowded
areas, much preferring the pristine wilderness, but one must do what they
must do. Every day she checked on Maccus' progress, until he was well
enough to give the order to move out.

When they reached the marker, Draphinamina continued on by herself. The
rest of the company would be building the fort. She did not envy them that
job, but it was not where her talents lay. Alert for any danger, she
carefully checked each marker she had left previously. They were still all
exactly where she had set them. When she arrived at the cave, however, all
was not well. Her carefully laid out camp had been ripped apart, literally.
She was glad she had brought extra supplies. 'But who had done this, ' she
wondered to herself as she lit a lantern to further explore the cavern.




Writer: Draphinamina

Date Thu May 16 16:01:01 2019

To Shadow Vermonasia Eclipse All Imm RP Ampersand Cayenna ( Necrucifer )

Subject The Cave - Part 2 of 2


The cave had several large rooms and many smaller areas off each side of
the main path. The further on she went, the more stealthy her approach
since the evidence of something or someone living there was more and more
obvious. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the attack only moments
before it came. An ancient yeti, claws outstretched lunged at her from a
dark recess. She reacted instinctively, slashing for the heart. The battle
was over quickly. 'Were there any more? ' she thought. As she continued
on, she came across a fresh water stream that had probably formed the
caverns eons before. But no more yetis. The stream exited through a second
entrance high on the mountain making a beautiful waterfall as well as a
perfect vantage point for a lookout. The path descending from the cave was
in full view from that entrance. She thought that the cave would need few
improvements to use as their second base camp. Just some cleaning and
fortifying of the two entrances. She looked around again, pleased with what
she had found.




Writer: Nehtur

Date Thu May 16 20:17:07 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Necrucifer All ( Admin Imm RP Religion )

Subject Shimmermist Catacombs I - Necrucifer RP (Nehtur's view )



The dust settled as Nehtur dismounted his steed and pulled his bloody
helmet from his head. Looking around Nethur watched in silence as the last
of the supplicants slipped past his ability to heal and draw their last few
breaths. This was not how Nehtur imagined his command as Chancellor, he was
disappointed in himself for allowing the Knights to be ambushed as they
were. Shaking those thoughts from his head Nehtur looked from Ithelim to
Vincent before turning his gaze to the empty catacombs extending into the
darkness.

"Are you both ok to move? " The Chancellor asked looking back to the
officers.

Both Vincent and Ithelim glanced themselves over before nodding.

We do not have a lot of time before the Ghul find another way in.

The three Officers gathered their belongings and set off down the corridors
of the catacombs. The walls engraved with various pictures of yinn and
battles long forgotten from the history books. Octagonal rooms seemed to
come out of the darkness, each of the sides lined three high with open grave
beds cut into the stone. Many of the graves still had bones yet to decay,
it seemed as though an entire civilization was buried within these halls.
Walking for hours the Knights made their way in the general direction of the
forge hoping they could find an old tunnel that would link them up with the
Verminasians and the rest of Storm Keeps forces. The Chancellors horse
hooves echoed down the empty tunnels, Nehtur hoped that the fighting was
over for the time being and that the trek would be a quiet one to the forge.
Their luck held out for another, moving into a large chamber the sound of a
claws moving along the stone floor broke the silence.

"Be ready, we are not the only ones here. " Nehtur readied his weapon as he
looked over to Ithelim and Vincent both disappearing from sight into the
shadows. A grin crossed the Chancellors lips.

"I guess Ill play bait. " Nehtur nearly laughed, his eyes looking off into
the direction of the sounds.





Writer: Nehtur

Date Thu May 16 20:19:17 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Necrucifer All ( Admin Imm RP Religion )

Subject Shimmermist Catacombs II - Necrucifer RP (Nehtur's view )



It was not long before a band of ghul came into sight charging at the
Chancellor bearing their teeth and claws. Bringing his shield up in time to
deflect one of the Ghul that leaped up taking Nehtur clean off his steed.
Landing with a heavy thud Nehtur scrambled quickly to his feet, the sound of
Ithelim uttering a spell behind him Nehtur prepared his weapon as the
ceiling opened up and a number of gargoyles flew out of the darkness and
headed straight for the Ghul. Vincent was quick to reappear close to Nehtur
before the two followed the gargoyles head on into the oncoming enemies.
Their swords hacked and slashed cutting a few of the enemies down at their
feet, yet for each one they killed it seemed as if more appeared. They were
going to lose ground if they could not change the flow of the battle.

"We need to do something! " a hint of concern could be heard in Nehturs
voice.

Ithelim began casting another spell, Nehtur could not make it out and All he
could do was continue the battle infront of them.




Writer: Rorra

Date Fri May 17 10:10:41 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 2



The sound of a branch snapping in two brings her back from the brink of
sleep, making her quickly look All around her surroundings. There seemed to
be nothing nearby, but it certainly felt odd at the least. Without any
source of the disturbance, she settled back down against the tree, resting
her head on her knees while awaiting the inevitable forced sleep. Another
quiet sound, this time it was closer, much closer. Turning to look at the
source of the noise, there stood a humanoid figure with a massive set of
feathery wings.

Trying as best as she can to escape the feathery being only causes her to
fall over in a panic. Now that she can see the figure clearly, they are a
female, bearing some resemblance to the crow she had been feeding. The
felar pushes against the ground, hardly making any significant progress
towards escaping from this creature. In that moment, there is a dark flash
that serves to both reduce her ability to see very far as well as allowing
this creature to get much closer. As a pale hand reaches out to grab her
everything around her rapidly loses All color and eventually fades away
entirely.

"Rorra?"

The poor sleep deprived felar draws in a quick breath of air as she wakes up
from what felt like an eternal slumber, though the Sun's position in the sky
made it clear enough it had been mere minutes. Looking around herself in
the dreary environment that surrounded her would not reveal to her who she
thought spoke her name. The voice was different.. Female sounding at least
and most importantly understandable.

"Time is wasting away you know. Come, let us speak again..."

Again? What was that supposed to mean coming from a voice she did not
recognize? Whatever the case was, at this point it did not matter and she
in turn replied with a happy, if weary, smile that spread across her maw.
"Of course.. Sorry to keep you waiting. " She would waste no more of her
guest's time, coming to sit by the edge of the pond to discuss All manner of
things from various foods to the Gods themselves.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Fri May 17 20:53:26 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to war: Time to move on.



The night after the sparring matches had been a long one, at least for
the Ambassador. She didn't sleep much that night and though she did not
normally need much in the way of sleep, she was definitely tired. It was
fortunate that she knew some handy spells to keep the cloth that she had
placed over her eye cold. While it did not prevent the black eye itself,
she at least had less swelling and could see out of her eye still. The cold
had made her hands ache considerably though so she adjusted the wraps on her
hands.

The camp was teeming with activity after everyone had worked out their
grievances. It had kept the Ambassador busy as the Captain had asked her to
work with him and some others on sword techniques. She had done so happily
but was grateful when she finally got a break. Walking through the
encampment, she watched the men and women as they worked. The mood in
general just seemed a lot lighter despite the preparations for war.

Word had spread through the camp that couriers had arrived for the Emperor
though she was already aware since she rarely strayed too far. The news was
not good and they would need to leave as soon as possible. After gathering
her things and dispersing it among her packs. She offered her horse an
apple and stepped away to help a few others load things. The Captain and a
few others came over to shake her hand. They said their goodbyes and
thanked everyone.

The preparations in Gryphonne would continue without them for now but things
certainly seemed better than when they had arrived. The Ambassador pulled
her hood up and over her head as she spurred her horse forward, falling into
step beside the Emperor. For the rest of the journey back to Althainia she
would keep to her own thoughts and worries while keeping an eye out as
usual.

They made a short stop in Althainia as they passed through. The issues
arising in Cadia as well as the ones with Gareth meant that they needed to
get back on the rode and on to Deimos. As the party headed out the west
gate, she reached in one of her packs and plucked two apples from it. She
tossed one apple towards the Emperor and took a bite out of her own. Her
horse snorted softly and shook its head in protest, to which she leaned down
and patted its side, 'I warned you that you'd have to share. You and
apples... You're as bad as he. You can have another when we get to Deimos'




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:32:01 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 1



Xaran'xaxes had pilfered the nullstone from Dorgal's possessions and
replaced it with a fake just before confronting the man himself. No
commotion was made then or after, and so he presumed none would come. The
ruse was working.

The shadow mage Ithelim had carved two convincing duplicates from memory, a
remarkable feat given the memory was not quite his own. To they not attuned
to such things, the counterfeits were hard to differentiate from the real
thing. To those with a sense for the arcane the magical void was readily
apparent to the touch. Against the weight of Creation, the fiend felt as if
though he cradled a hole of nothingness, empty and wanting, in de Vere's
palm. This was surely it, though testing the extents of the legend would
need to wait.

The archfiend could have left with his treasure there and then and, as they
would soon find out, the Avalanche Company would have been much better off
for it. But the question clawed at the demon's meticulous thoughts from the
moment he discovered others were hired to procure the stone as well: who?

Who had discovered the stone's existence besides himself? Who else sought
it and for what purpose? Few mortals saw past de Vere's hollow eyes to
glimpse the demon within. Even less considered his schemes to hold any
breadth of sanity. Who had he told beyond the walls of Storm Keep? Who
else would mobilize their efforts so quickly?

A few at first came to mind. Was it Fatale's Deathscythe, whose ambition
rivaled his own? Had Lord Dragoth's Vershae finally extended his creeping
arm? Even were it any number of mortal faces or factions, who oft presented
a lesser threat than his kith and kin, the loose thread tugged relentlessly
at the fiend's mental fabric. He would see it either woven back into place
or cut from his designs completely.

The return to the cave where this unknown employer resided consisted of two
days of travel and two nights of refuge and rest, with intention to spend
the third morning finalizing the exchange. The first of these passed with
relative quiet, though they were far from silent. Amidst the crunch of snow
under All hoof, foot, and sleigh rail, between inhales of sharp, piercing
cold, and exhaled on the hushed breath of Dorgal's men, words and whispers
spread growing malcontent among the party.

The "official" story was that Higgsly had "fallen prey to a beast" and that
the "envoy" they were now transporting had "come to see them back" to their
employer, for worry that the Company abandoned its contract. Only Higgsly,
as the men well knew, was a seasoned woodsman a hunter, never the hunted and
his wounds did not appear rent by tooth, horn, or claw. The man "de Vere"
bore Verminasian paraphernalia that, while perhaps telling, spoke nothing of
some ogre camped in the Northern Wilds.

The Hawk was in no state to recount his experience and the Avalanche had
little desire to speak of his own. Neither of the claims were backed by
hard evidence and All of the men agreed that they defied logic. Ideas of
murder, and some even of mutiny, had rolled within their heads and past
their lips.

Secure from the burning light of day, the flesh-bound fiend sat nestled
among fowl and their feed within a covered wagon. There he quietly picked
apart their conversations, gathering information and musing over their
fears. Those who guessed "vampire" were on the right track, but still far
off the course, for while he did sup upon blood and burn under sunlight it
was for very different reasons than those lords of undeath.

Owing to a fear of the unknown, for the mercenaries the distinction mattered
not. As the sun fell heralding the first night of their journey, their
tensions had nearly swelled to burst. The chance to rest and stew in their
trepidation would only fan the flames.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:33:08 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 2



Absent their leader's knowledge, the Company had devised a plan to kill
and dispose of the menace they ferried abroad. Gurgin, a newer addition,
volunteered to fill the role of executioner. They would wait until the sun
reached its zenith, then they would open the wagon's flap and Gurgin would
send a bolt through the devil's chest. If that failed to kill it, they
would cut open the cover and let the sun finish the job for them.

They rode on until midday, Gurgin and a group of four hovering close behind
the livestock wagon. With a curt exchange of nods, a certain signal, and to
Dorgal's bewilderment, the caravan abruptly slowed, crawling to a stop upon
the open ice and snow. No words were spoken as a man peeled back one of the
flaps and Gurgin slipped into the wagon, crossbow at the ready.

They heard the twang of the weapon's fire. They heard the bolt hit its mark
with a squishy thud and a raspy groan. Then they heard screams - they knew
they were Gurgin's. Then they heard more squishy thuds and saw splattered
blood seeping into the wagon's beige tarp. Then they saw Gurgin's
disembodied hand and forearm ejected from the flap. This was followed by
his crossbow which cracked the flap-holder square between the eyes, sending
him toppling backwards.

Then they felt sheer terror, one such that it drove most to their knees and
locked the rest in their tracks. For before them now was not snow, or
mountain ranges, or pine forests. Abyssal nightmares clouded their vision,
their bravado felled and consumed before vivid images of infernal terrors
and dread expanses. Suddenly and explicitly, they had All found a hell
unique and individual unto themselves.

"HENDRICKSON, " roared an unearthly voice from within the wagon. The boom
of the summons was enough to pierce through the haze and break them from
their spell. The terrors receded as briskly as they had come and once more
beloved Algoron stood underfoot, cradling them in her cold bosom. Still the
fear lingered, such that they dared not lift another hand with thought of
provocation.

Like a trained dog, Dorgal made his way to the back of the wagon where the
commotion had erupted. He cast a baleful glare over his men, equal amounts
of fear and anger roiling within his heart. They should have trusted him.
They always had before. But then, such was the nature of trust: built over
a life time and lost in an instant. He had overestimated the nature of his
fellow man.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:34:45 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 3



As Dorgal looked up at de Vere, whose stare bored down back at him from
atop the wagon's platform and under the shade of the canopy flap held in his
outstretched arm, he found himself wondering if he'd live long enough to
learn from the mistake. Blood stained the Verminasian's mouth and chin,
trailing down the links of his tarnished mail and into his tabard, but it
was clearly not his own. The shaft of Gurgin's crossbow bolt protruded from
his ribcage, stuck fast between layers of flesh, cloth, and failed armor.
He appeared unfazed, even though the bolt had visibly wounded him.

In his free hand, de Vere held Gurgin's freshly mutilated corpse. He tossed
it to the ground before Dorgal, bereft of arm and chunks of flesh, as though
it were a lightweight sack. Dorgal regarded the gesture with but a passing
glance, staunchly maintaining eye contact with the beast before him. In
lieu of any other positive lights, at least the Avalanche was accustomed to
dead bodies of All varieties.

"One more chance, " the demon spoke as if bestowing a gift whilst repressing
a smirk from emerging through his scowl.

Xaran'xaxes liked this one and though punishing him punishing them All would
bring greater joy, they still had a purpose to fulfill. He could not rebuke
them yet. Yanking the bolt free from his host's form, the archfiend
reminded Dorgal of the gruesome fate that awaited beyond the demon's wrath.
He commanded the journey to resume before disappearing behind the flap and
back into the wagon's confines.

That night none spoke of what had transpired earlier in the day. None spoke
at All in fact, save for the sparse relay of necessary commands. What few
looks they exchanged were brief, fear and the shame it had caused them
apparent in their eyes. Each felt similar lamentations and All knew the
collective shared in it.

They reached their employer's cave on schedule, arriving at its mouth in the
early hours of dawn. The Company assembled in the entryway, their spirits
hoisted by the promise of payment now mere moments away. Dorgal took pause
to consider if it was worth the loss of two men and, more considerably, his
reputation before clasping the troublesome stone in hand. The Avalanche
breathed a sigh of relief and announced, "We're here."

With de Vere at their back, the party trod through the narrow, stony
passageway leading to the main cavern. At the path's end opened a large
chamber, the place in which Dorgal had accepted this accursed contract. In
its center towered the Ogre, clad in robes of black, a large iron bound
chest at his feet. They had reached their destination at last.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:35:58 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 4



"Aaaaah, Xa-ren-xax-es, " the Ogre bellowed as the group finished
assembling before him. The boisterous voice echoed off the cavern walls,
fading into the dark. They looked to each other in confusion, the word
foreign to their ears but each syllable spoken with palpable spite.

Vincent waded through the small crowd until he stood at its front, keeping a
length of several spears between the Ogre and he. Two apex predators then
locked eyes, the smaller ascertaining his recognition of the larger which
had clearly identified him already. The former's brow twisted with anger
while the latter's mouth parted in a mirthful grin.

"Part of me hoped you would come, " the Ogre continued. Dorgal recognized
the tongue of ogrekin, but could not place the archaic dialect in which the
Ogre spoke it.

"The failed progeny of a dead god, " the Ogre taunted with a hoarse scoff.
"Come. Once I am finished with these mortals, we shall return you to the
Abyss... I am eager to see you fall again. Many more crave to see you
despair.
"

"Gorsythe, " Xaran'xaxes hissed from the lips of de Vere.

The rival archfiend of Drakkara had betrayed him and usurped the demon
lord's claim shortly after their successful, if short lived, conquest over
the fifth layer of Hell. The treachery was admirable and, though centuries
past, still lingered within the fiend's mind. Conspiring alongside his
former mistress, the Devionite Taizavzel, Gorsythe had cast Xaran'xaxes into
the Wells of Darkness where he remained imprisoned for decades more.

Gorsythe again pulled the ogre's lips back to bare a tusk laden grin. His
dark and sunken eyes shifted to Dorgal and a massive hand reached out from
his side. Once more he spoke in the common tongue, "You have the stone,
mercenary. You'd not have come without and neither would he. Give it here
and take your payment... I will see to it that my kith interferes no
longer.
"

Dorgal looked to the stone in his palm, then at the possessed corpses
standing before him. Only then did he realize the ogre's meaning of "one
other like myself." Had he known in advance, no amount of coin could have
persuaded him to entertain deals with demons. Still, the damage was done.
He would not walk away empty handed.

Dorgal stepped forward past de Vere and towards the Ogre, surrendering the
stone into his waiting palm. This larger demon was noticeably pleased. The
one within the human stood silent. From behind the ogre's lifeless eyes
Gorsythe marveled over his new possession, but one more added to the troves
already seized from this "almighty archfiend of Necrucifer", "servant of the
Master."




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:37:15 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 5



"Take your money and begone. Go, " Gorsythe commanded the mortals.

He continued to gloat while several of the men strode forward to help haul
away the wealth-heavy chest. Though wary of the threats that loomed before
and behind them, to their relief neither creature did more than speak at
this juncture. Now the conversation continued in the tongue of man.

"Servant of the Master indeed, " the Ogre ridiculed, repeating the thought
aloud, "Or should I say the Mistress. You've done well leading me to
this... Once more the path to my triumph is paved upon your failure. How
gracious you are, kin, for All your gifts.
"

De Vere's right hand clenched into a fist at the words, the left
disappearing behind his back. Gorsythe rolled the carved and decorated
stone about the ogre's palm, scrutinizing its features. After a time he
seemed skeptical, even unimpressed.

"This is it then, is it? You think this is the key, " Gorsythe
contemplated, "I've heard your plans, Xaran'xaxes. I've watched you make
them. Would that the eye could also peer through the Abyss, but ah- here
you have been. How fortunate.
"

It explained everything. The bastard must have found the scrying orb
Xaran'xaxes was forced to leave behind. With a sudden jerk of the ogre's
wrist Gorsythe flung the fraudulent stone to the ground, shattering it
against the cavern floor. Dorgal and the few men who'd not yet departed
stared wordlessly, eyes wide and jaws agape.

"Fool. Did you think me so daft as to be deceived by this farce? "

De Vere's hand returned from behind his back, producing the second
counterfeit. His first bluff had been called.

"Let's make a deal, " propositioned the fiend-driven ogre, "Give me the
stone. The real
one. Help me see this scheme to fruition. Assist in the
commencement of Her Reign Eternal and I swear you shan't be cast back into
the pits.
"

"No, " came the retort, abrupt and staunchly stated.

"No? " Gorsythe roared a cackle, "Necrucifer is dead, Xaran'xaxes. I have
seized your realm and All within it. You will find no restitution in
serving a fallen god. None shall rally to your crusade. By what lunacy do
you refute so generous an offer?
"

"Spite, " countered the smaller creature. He hoisted the stone into the air
with evident intent to smash it, too, upon the ground. "I would sooner
destroy it than see to your continued success.
"

"Hubris," the ogre scowled, "It would not be the first time it led to your
downfall, but it will
be the last. Give the stone to me. NOW! "

The hellish rasp of his voice scraped and rebounded against the cavern
walls. With a wry smirk, Xaran'xaxes replied, "Come and take it, worm. "

"Fine! I shall pluck it from your meat-suit's ashes, " Gorsythe snarled. A
word of the arcane tongue followed past the ogre's lips and between his
hands a mote of power swelled into a raging ball of flame.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:38:31 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 6



The ogre clenched his massive fist and lobbed the roaring fireball
forward, its velocity too quick to avoid at so short a range. At this
point, Dorgal and the remainder of the Company had secured their cache and
lingered in the passage nearby to ensure they'd not be followed out. In the
blink of an eye the fireball reached its intended target, but to the
astonishment of most it did not reap the expected result.

The sorcerous flame first stretched out then dispersed around the
Verminasian's body, as if breaking against an invisible wall. De Vere stood
unmoved and undamaged, clutching the counterfeit stone fast before him. The
real nullstone hung from his belt inside a cured leather pouch, obscured by
his garb and effects and secured within an arcanium casing. It worked.

Gorsythe assumed it would. From the ogre's robes he produced a massive
kanabo, the studded, blackened club suited to his host's natural strength.
With speed no ogre should be able to achieve, Gorsythe pressed forward to
crush his rival. He missed narrowly, his weapon's pulverizing force
shattering one of the chamber's natural stone pillars. The cave shook in
response, bits of loose rock and stalactite crumbling off of the ceiling.

Xaran'xaxes had always been the more nimble of the two, owing as much to
their allegiances as it did their "natural" forms and gifts, and now upon
the Material Plane their hosts behaved much the same. De Vere bowled the
fake stone across the chamber as the ogre approached and drew a notched
parrying dagger from his sword belt. With predatory ferocity, he mounted
the ogre as it passed and began stabbing and slashing the much larger host,
first to find purchase and then with intent to behead it.

The ogre reached back grasping for his attacker and, after several dodged
attempts, succeeding in grabbing de Vere by his tunic. His host now
bleeding profusely, Gorsythe grabbed his rival and slammed him to the ground
with earth quaking force. The man's ribs surely fractured, Xaran'xaxes
pressed on. He rolled past a head-bursting stomp and then over another
ground-rumbling impact of the ogre's club, the mountain hollow losing
integrity with each devastating blow. Once more, the ogre found purchase on
the Verminasian and threw him clear across the room.

A mist of blood sprayed from de Vere's mouth and nose as he impacted the far
stone wall and crumpled to the floor. The Avalanche Company in view of the
battle watched in awe as the Verminasian rose and the fight continued.
During the brief pause, Gorsythe had made strides towards the rolled
nullstone, intent on claiming his bounty.

In a feat of inhuman strength, de Vere prized a large stalagmite free from
its thick base and hurled it at the ogre. As Gorysthe reached down to grab
the stone, the makeshift spear shot through his host's chest and shoulder,
causing him to stumble and fall to a knee. Try as he might, the stalagmite
stuck fast. In a brief panic at the sound of approaching footsteps and
drawn steel, he clasped at and grabbed the stone before looking up at de
Vere with a crimson grin.

Xaran'xaxes, his host equally battered, stood at sword's length from the
ogre and paused, blade pointed at its throat. Though maimed beyond the
ability to continue battling in earnest, the ogre firmly squeezed the false
nullstone in the hand of his disabled arm. Choking on blood and supplied
now by a single lung, Gorsythe erupted with guttural laughter as an Abyssal
gateway began to churn open behind him.

"Nothing to shield you now, " Gorysthe spat, each sentence laborious, as
another fiery orb began to take shape in the ogre's free hand, "See you on
the other side, "brother." Sooner rather than later.
"

The archfiend of Drakkara whipped the fireball forward with intent to smite,
only to find his magic neutralized once more. With a puzzled countenance,
Gorsythe tossed the counterfeit stone into the swirling portal behind him
for insurance against his kindred's threat to destroy it. When next the two
demons met eyes, de Vere's sword was now poised to strike.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 18 10:39:59 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Ithelim Rasavadi Tamaska All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna RP )

Subject Finding the Nullstone: Ambactus a Caligo - pt. 7 (Conclusion)



"Be careful what you wish for, Gorsythe... I've been simply itching to
return home and now you've just given me a reason.
"

A decapitating stroke followed Xaran'xaxes' words, severing the ogre's head
from his body. The demon's soul harbored within flooded out, screeching at
its release. The dark, crackling mass surged into the gateway which then
itself imploded, momentarily warping the fabric of the material plane.

The Avalanche Company, by way of their trade, had seen worse carnage during
their tenure and the duel, while impressive, still paled before their recent
glimpse into the Infernal Realms. Most, Dorgal included, stayed behind to
watch the spectacle from the safety of the cave's passageway. Pleased that
they had, their chief antagonist now appeared vulnerable.

Xaran'xaxes turned to face the men, his host broken and bleeding. Slowly,
warily, they encircled de Vere like a pack of wolves closing in on wounded
prey. Their appetite for revenge was ravenous, their anger near tactile.

Spears, swords, axes, and crossbows were brandished in the monster's
direction, eager for the frenzy to begin. Though some measure of divine
constitution had already begun to mend the host's body, the archfiend knew
his vigor was drained. By the way he clutched himself, attempting to stem
the flow of life force from still open wounds, the men knew it too. Still,
a beast posed no greater danger than when injured and cornered.

"Our deal is still in affect, Dorgal Vendrickson, and you and yours dance
once more on the brink of betrayal... I spared you last time. All of you
have seen what awaits your black and twisted souls... Though wounded I may
be, one drink is All I need to send the lot of you there ahead of
schedule... Go with your money and your lives.
"

De Vere's eyes glowed against the cavern's darkness, unblinking, cast upon
none in particular but at All who dared meet them. The men glanced at one
another, the rigidity of their stance falling way to apprehension. Dorgal,
too, broke his vehement gaze for a split second to visually appraise the
eagerness of his men. Most appeared to be heavily weighing their options.


Dorgal considered the demon's words. He had lost enough already. Slaying
the fiend would bring closure to those losses and, perhaps, restore the
Company's confidence in him. Walking away would ensure the lives of his
men, but at what further cost to himself? They were like to mutiny him or
worse for the troubles wrought upon them by his decision to take along this
unholy passenger.

"... Boris? " Dorgal asked his second, his sights unwavering from the
creature before them.

"N'shame en livin' t' foight ano'er day, chief, " Borislav replied. He
spoke for himself and the men on this. They had their ample payment. Their
contract was fulfilled. All wanted to live to see it spent and none
questioned the creature's lethality nor veracity of his word. He had not
attacked them without provocation.

"Vampyre? " Borislav asked the Verminasian, attempting to steer the
interaction from violence.

"Worse, " de Vere replied. Borislav nodded in concession and looked to his
leader for extrication. Dorgal broke his stare to look back with a nod of
agreement.

"Aye... N' shame en that, " Dorgal intoned, looking over the mercenaries
for any sense of dissent. There was none. Only relief passed over their
pale faces. The Avalanche nodded once more and signaled his Company to
depart.

Leaving behind the rest, Dorgal craned his head to look back at the demon
bound in flesh one last time. Alas, in the blink of an eye it had vanished.
In the empty cavern before him now there was naught but darkness and shadow.




Writer: Rorra

Date Sat May 18 11:36:35 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 3



The sun was setting and along with it, her guest would leave once more to
see to their own business. It was a pleasant surprise to be visited so
suddenly by such a good friend. A hand would come to rest on her shoulder
just as another would reach around to offer her a freshly cooked fish. A
quick turn of her head to look up at Raika would cause her smile to broaden
greatly. Perfect timing.

The gesture itself was wordless and it needed none while she happily
devoured the meal provided for her today. It had been weeks since she had
seen her mate near the grove, but it was natural for both herself and him to
wander the outer lands for long periods of time. Once the sun had sunk
beneath the horizon they both would retire to their bed high above within
the massive tree. Perhaps this would be a peaceful night of sleep with him
around.

Along the way, something strange caught her attention. One of her carved
symbols of Turpa. One of them had escaped her sight after All the time she
spent searching high and low for every last one. This would not do and as
she took hold of it, the trinket immediately turned a sickly gray color.
Strange, none of them ever did that until she tossed them in the fire. Just
as if it had been burned, it crumbled into an ashy dust to which she simply
let fall to the ground. The felar looked at her hand, marked partially with
the remains of the ash, though she thought nothing of it at the time.

The thought of why the wooden carving would decay so rapidly in her hand was
strange, but right now All that mattered to her was resting alongside her
mate. Thoughts of what All of the recent events meant to her were pushed
from her mind, save for the exception of the time spent with her mysterious
guest.

Between the furs they laid upon and Raika himself, the chilly night air
would not be a detriment to sleep this time.

"Tell me of your latest journey, mm? It might help me sleep.. "




Writer: Maccus

Date Sat May 18 15:39:40 2019

To Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Cayenna Ampersand Religion RP

Subject Lost City - Caveside outpost'


They trekked up the hill, following along the path Draphinamina had set.
The cave seemed well enough, 'SUPPLICANTS STAY AT THE ENTRANCE. BUILD
BARRICADES, DOUBLE TIME
'. Maccus' yell boomed throughout the cave as well,
and the supplicants veered off, busting themselves with the work that they'd
been tasked with.

Maccus and the rest of the men began exploring the cave system, 'Spears at
the ready
' whispered one of the Knights behind Maccus, and the easy and
practiced switch happened. Once they had found the stream Maccus sent the
those of Verminasia to explore along it, to see where it went in both
directions.

Inspecting the cave system didn't take long. It was large enough to house
the men transitioning between the outposts and encampments, while also being
very easily defensible. Maccus dispatched his fastest man to the outpost,
with word on the minimum amount of men needed to defend the entrances and
properly use the great vantage the waterfall offered. There was very little
they had to do outside of cleaning and weathering small areas of the cave.
Not long after they had began recovering from the weather they had dealt
with before. Maccus turned to his captains as they had begun to look more
refreshed, where Maccus seemed to only be in more pain, keeping his injured
eye closed more often than open.

Once the reinforcements arrived and the barricades were built for the other
entrance were built they left quickly. The cave had offered himself and his
men a slight reprieve from the strenuous drilling and building they had been
doing.

They marched down the mountain and began to see the outskirts of
Shimmermist. Maccus squinted, barely making out the flying forms of to
Firstborn and with a booming yell he turned to his men 'PICK UP THE PACE!
WE'RE ALMOST THERE
'. This elated a yell from his men, their long march
would be over, and the true test would begin.




Writer: Agapitos

Date Sat May 18 16:08:29 2019

To Althainia All ( Storyline Immortal Geirhart Niarythma )

Subject Ofcol I


The journey north had been uneventful.

In truth, the man astride his horse had known it would be much in this way.
He had spent time in these valleys and dales over the course of his years,
knowing some of them better than even the locals. They were home to him,
and so he had paid extra attention to such locales as could provide cover
for an ill-intentioned ambush or untimely delay in the mission as had been
given to the Steward. His vigilance, however, was rewarded with nothing so
exciting as vindication for his caution. The northlands of Althainia were a
quiet place, befitting the southern reaches of what had once been an empire
poised to spread its influence the world over. He had known much of the
lore of that ancient time, had pored over the words of the fallen Empire's
sages and philosophers, and it was with their wisdom that he sought to bring
enlightenment to this chaotic era. The Emperor, Mercerion, believed in much
the same, was a fellow scholar of the Old World, and so he had deigned to
invest his trust in the man. If a war effort was called for, if the bastion
of Light had grown sturdy enough to withstand punitive counterattack, then
the time had come to sharpen swords and prepare arms, for the Bulwark was
prepared.

The man looked sidelong at his traveling companions, his countenance
reserved. The elderly priest was a good man, the youthful vigor of the
well-intentioned giving strength to wizened form. There was a great deal of
respect to be had for such heartfelt motivations, and Agapitos nodded to
himself with a thoughtful hum. Geirhart was a good choice to steward the
land. What he lacked in physical presence and sheer force of personality,
he made up for in earnest responsibility to the righteous cause. With
proper support, he could be a fine leader as well as any could ask for.

His other companion, however, still burned with impertinent youthfulness.
The preternatural gleam of untempered rebelliousness still shone in the
girl's eyes, despite her diminutive form. Where others saw reservation and
calm, he saw the restlessness of the untested. There was potential, yes,
but without a catalyst, without a test of her desire to do Good, he could
not yet invest his trust. Ever was there always the bond of kindship
between fellows, between kin united under a common cause, but to invest in
proper trust was something that he had grown slow to do. He would watch her
and judge her ready or wanting.

Until then, the road stretched forward, the provincial village of Ofcol on
the horizon. He knew of the place, for it had a storied history All its
own. It was a settlement younger than Althainia, with its share of woes and
boons that had shaped its tale. Of late, it had taken on an age of
prosperity, benefiting from its proximity to Althainia proper. It was as
such that the Steward had been sent to issue the Crown's request, that the
trees of the locals should be tithed to the Capitol to aid in the creation
of engines of war. It was a hefty tax to deliver, and one that he could see
sat heavily upon Geirhart. It was a ponderous duty, and to take even a
little from the livelihoods of the smallfolk was never a welcome endeavor.
Nevertheless, it was duty All the same.

The smoke over the hill caught his eye on the morning of arrival, the trail
jerky still All but-uneaten in his saddlebags from that morning's breakfast.
It was habit that he rationed himself these days, for the privilege of his
station left him wanting for nothing, but the discipline of the traveler
never quite faded from memory. As the riders crested the hill, his sapphire
gaze settled on the encampment, and his ears caught the exhortation of the
demagogue below. Agapitos gritted his teeth, one hand clenching the reins
of his horse. It was not the refusal of service that rankled him, for he
knew well of how this request was one in good faith. It was instead the
small-mindedness of the man's demeanor.




Writer: Agapitos

Date Sat May 18 16:18:42 2019

To Althainia All ( Storyline Immortal Geirhart Niarythma )

Subject Ofcol II


The bigotry in the commoner's words vexed the mounted warrior, and it was
with effort that he reined in his anger and his steed both. To respond
without thought was a curse, no matter his vexation. Time had taught him
the danger of such impulsive action, and it was with that in mind that he
cast his gaze aside to his companions. He had little concern for the
temperament of the older man. Time would have taught him such restraint.
The girl-woman, however...

'The elves of the Valley have lived here since long before the establishment
of the foundation of this village. To refuse them their right to settle is
an unwise venture, let alone the need of the Emperor. Let us tread
cautiously, lest we draw unnecessary venom from these villagers. Steward,
as it is your expedition, I would ask you to speak on the behalf of All of
us.
' Again, his stare found Niarythma, steel in the vivid blue as he
spoke, 'You are the voice of the Emperor in this, and I would see it
peaceably resolved. Troubled though they are, they are the smallfolk of the
realm, in whose service we are sworn to protect and uplift. If anything
goes amiss, however, the Lady and I shall see to your protection.
'

The casual authority in his voice crept into his tone without much thought.
Despite his relative unknown stature in the Empire, it had become natural
for him to speak so. The tales of Knights of old and his own experiences
had instilled in him such a demeanor, the unconscious reflection of the
valorous Lord and Men of Old Gareth. At his side, he felt the weight of
Ascalon keenly. The promises made upon the blade were long known to him,
and the oaths sworn in its presence. It was now that he carried such
duties, and as his gaze drifted forward to find the vitriolic speaker, he
understood the burden of such words. To cut down obstacles to peace was no
great thing, but the rifts such cuts created were slow to heal. It was
insufficient to burn away the impurities of the world with abandon, but to
judge All equally and fairly, beneath the unyielding light of Truth. It was
now, however, that he was in no position to judge. The authority was not
his to wield, but merely to execute. He was no ruler, merely an instrument
of the Just.

It was upon Geirhart and men like him to act, and for him to defend. He
could do no less. His oath and his honor were tied to the task. Ascalon
weighed upon him, but he minded it not. Beloved Son willing, it would not
need to be drawn this day. Instead, he settled into his saddle and folded
his brawny arms over his broad chest. Geirhart's actions would decide the
day, and he would reserve further judgment of the man until such a thing was
resolved.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sat May 18 22:10:15 2019

To All Cayenna Althainia

Subject Road to War VI: Soulfire



The forests of the Haon Daran were no stranger to Mercerion. He had
traversed them many times in his long service to the Keep of Gareth, which
laid deep within these forests, and in his first term as Emperor, had
assisted in saving the villagers whom were affected by a rogue Conclave
magi's experiments. As the Althainian party entered the village of the Haon
Daran, they were met with a group of knights whom bore markings of ancient
serpantol text. There were few in the lands that could read them, but their
appearance brought a knowing smile to the Emperor's countenance.

Mercerion was hailed by two of the knights whom had greeted the party, their
armor a steel-blue in color, and marked in many places with scripts in the
ancient serpantol language, their content clearly a vow, sealed to the armor
with an unknown substance. Mercerion returned their salutes and took a
visual inventory of the gathered knights. They were armed with halberds for
the most part, the chieftain among them bearing a very large warhammer.

The Emperor smiled, "Crowe, Its good to see you again. I trust you are all
well
?"

The chiefant made no visual movement but his reply came back metallic
through the armor, "Aye. Well enough, Emperor. The purifiers train
diligently, and my knights are ready to track down the daemons you mean to
unleash us upon
."

Mercerion nodded and confirmed his gladness at these words, and took time to
introduce his party, starting with Kyrlynn, and then to the cadre of young
officers and courtiers whom were along for the journey. After a few minutes
of exchanged pleasantries, the Emperor requested they step into the village
and head down to the lake, that they could discuss some of the tactics these
knights had employed.

After a brief luncheon, the party was taken into the arming tents to review
the weaponry these knights bore. There were many halberds, All of which
were bound with a single word in the serpantol language, "Nemesis".
Mercerion smiled as he read the seals and looked to the one he had called
Crowe, quirking an eyebrow. Crowe just gave a nod, and pointed to the few
large warhammers on the next table as well. "Aye, and the hammers. They
are recovered daemonhammers from the Old Empire
." Mercerion shook his head,
the smile more than apparent on his features. The single command coming
from him, "Show Me."




Writer: Wyltte

Date Sun May 19 08:06:37 2019

To All Imm RP Religion Verminasia Ezessinth

Subject Falling



He had glimpsed eternity. Uncertainty. Falling.

After the events of the Black Moon and the Mistresses's Ascension, he
wandered in a stupor for days.

There was constant mocking of their plight, a strong collection of souls
whose devotion knew no end being ridiculed by the basest of idiotic and
uninformed souls.

Some instantly flipped their allegience, hoping to gain favor like
opportunisitc hyenas. Others placed their chins to the forefront and stood
unmoving, a tree with no roots looking to weather the coming storm.

Some simply did not wake anymore, lost to the feelings of abandonment and
betrayal.

In fact, on the very next day of the betrayal, a new grove was opened in His
honor, with Bishop Wyltte as it's proprietor. Cruel Joke, Irony, or simple
bad luck with no attachment to the divine? Who knows. It felt like a kick
in the solarplexus though.

Wyltte stood in defiance for quite some time, refusing to bend a knee. He
had visions of this occuring, but wanted to believe they were in his head.
The gargoyle benches which he installed in the grove came to life, crawling
at his face and calling the Master Weak, and that He had failed.

And yet, who was he without his faith? A man of the cloth, a man who had
his body broken for finding the faith of Necrucifer endured severe pain
through avatar of Mencius, the Dark God of his youth.

Necrucifer had bestowed upon him a gift, the restoration of his blind eye he
lost in Frostania. He owed him his everything. Where does one move from
there?

So, one fateful day, standing over the abyss in the grove, he stared into
the gaping maw and felt the chilling blasts of wind come from below. He
stared so long he lost All track of time.

Outstretching his arms, he leaned forward into the unknown, and he fell.

What welcomed him was infinite blackness and the unease in your stomach of
motion. There was no light, and no adaptation to the conditions. It was a
perpetual state of falling, so far that he thought he may have come out the
other side of Algoron. Yet the end never came.

Downward he plunged till time no longer held importance. It was resignation
that finally took over him. Knowing that this would be him, forever. The
Master was not secretly waiting down here, just waiting for the right
sacrifice. There was no test. There was just the fall.

Then somewhere in the back of his brain, he heard a voice. It was soft and
strong at the same time. It was concerned and yet resolute. It was calling
out to him in the blackness.

Resignation turned to resolution. He did not feel like falling was the
answer anymore.

Then, the pain of thousand stones being heaped upon him racked his body.
Flecks of light burnt in his eyes, sending sharp pains throughout his brain.
The cold abated, and he felt the firmness of the stone bridge beneath him.
Slowly he opened his eyes, found himself laying in the same spot he started
his descent. He was back, and though no answers were found, he knew many
changes were coming.

For he glimpsed eternity, and it was not ready for him yet.




Writer: Rorra

Date Sun May 19 09:45:43 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 4



The morning was quiet around the grove. Many of the animals still sleep
soundly as the first rays of the Sun would pierce the veil of leaves
overhead. As the gloomy night would be banished from the felar's home
slowly, the light would eventually glimmer off of the surface of the pond.
Near the edge of the water, there sat the white tigress, rocking back and
forth. She had not slept even while her mate did slumber peacefully.

Not too long after the light had graced her home, she would succumb to the
long darkness of sleep. Though there was some effort prior to lay back on
the ground, she instead slumps over to the side mere inches away from the
water. The lifeless tail slips several inches into the water along with
most of her left arm. The effect of the water is not lost on her
unconscious form as well as her dreams.

A sensation of floating overtook her just before the felar opened her eyes.
All around her stretched an endless watery expanse. The situation she found
herself placed a sense of panic, causing her to cover her mouth temporarily
before trying to breach the surface of the water. The more she swam the
worse things got, making it seem as though she had begun to choke. A few
minutes would pass in her struggle to survive this predicament before
everything around her would fade to black just as she ceased to move.

"Wake up. "

There was something familiar to that voice, but she could not place it. It
sounded serene, soothing and All around as if it were coming from inside her
mind. Barely opening her eyes to see the bright sky gave her some relief to
know she was not downing. The question remains- Who rescued her and why?

"Look, my child. All that I am. "

The felar would turn her head slowly, blinded partially by the Sun overhead
and lifting an arm to block it out partially. At first All she could make
out was a humanoid form sitting next to her. As she adjusted more to the
daylight shining down on her, she could move her arm enough to see more. A
gaping wound in the chest that dripped with a black ichor and a wicked
skeletal grin of what she perceived as Turpa's half torn off face.

Gasping suddenly as she woke from her distressed slumber and realizing she
had been sleeping like this for some time. She took a moment to sit up and
sling some of the water out of the fur of her left arm while she sat there
to let herself calm down for a good long while.




Writer: Rorra

Date Mon May 20 11:52:27 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 5



The horrific visage of the being she once held in such high regard left a
deep mental scar, giving way to her own internal war to reignite. Rorra
knew All too well by now that Turpa had fallen and yet there was still a
glimmer of hope that these past months were just a series of nightmarish
dreams. Surely something would eventually come along to prod her along the
path of enlightenment from All of it soon enough. Something that would take
far too long for her liking so far.

A low rumbling growl made her sit upright and lean against a nearby rock
alongside a gentle stream. She had to find something to eat and soon. The
felar lifted a hand to her forehead, pushing the hair back and letting out a
heavy sigh. She was certainly not sick and that only meant things were only
going to get worse if that was the sort of dreams plaguing her currently.

Slumping over against the rock for the time being, Rorra rolls her head in
order to rest for just a moment longer. The rock itself is mildly cold to
the touch, giving her some relief from whatever perceived illness she might
have. Several hours passed by while she rested, the dull rumble of a storm
creeping ever closer went unnoticed in her daze. As it drew closer, the
familiar flash of lightning brought her back to full attention, casting her
gaze towards the darkened sky.

The first few raindrops were enough to make her wilt in fear with her ears
laying flat against her head. This was the last thing she needed after just
experiencing such an awful nightmare, but here it was to taunt her. The
tigress got to her feet quickly, dashing off to the massive tree off in the
distance to take shelter from the storm. At least she was not entirely
soaked through the to bone by the time she had gotten there.

She huddled in the entryway to the tree, watching the rain come down and
even going so far as to cover her ears. None of it would help in the end as
the sound of it would not come, but the response was All too real. Hunger
was not of any concern to her right now while this storm raged overhead,
spitting lightning across the expanse of the grove and the forest beyond.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Mon May 20 23:06:22 2019

To All Cayenna Althainia

Subject Road to War VII: Daemonbane



The heat of the sands was oppressive, and not far from war the small
party stood was the towering garrison known as silversand. The party
consisted of Mercerion, Kyrlynn, and three of the serpantol-sigiled knights.
Of this party, All but the Kyorl bore the heavy warhammers deemed
"Daemonhammers".

Mercerion glanced at the one called Crowe as they stepped into range to be
hailed from the fortress, "These things were attuned once to banish daemons
back from whence they came. They were rumored to sever the tie to the
master of the Daemon... Are these just legends
?"

Crowe chuckled softly and hefted his daemonhammer, "You'll have to find out
if we make it down into the depths of this place. I hear they have a few
."
With that, the three knights uttered a phrase in serpantol's tongue, and
across the seals of the daemonhammers a blue-white began to shine. The
party made no attempt at parlay as they brought up a warcry that harkened
back to the days of Tesalon Gareth.

The soldiers formed ranks quickly enough at the call of the gatekeeper, but
the rest of the barracks was not nearly so swift. As the Althainian party
crashed into the ranks of the gate defenders, the call to arms had not been
sounded, and would not be sounded before the gates would be breached. The
three knights of the Deimos province struck All of the blows, while the
Emperor observed close by, protected by the Kyorl, whom ensured no one came
within six metres of the Emperor.

Of the ten that formed to protect the gate, only three were slain. The
others were injured, unconscious perhaps, but would recover. The ones that
were slain had been chosen by the Emperor himself. Observances made as they
closed, gave the Emperor time to determine the faith of each man standing
before them. While these men were attached to wicked deeds, not All of them
were enemies this day. The ones whom fell, had given themselves over to the
Warp, and to Malachive's beliefs. When the hammers fell upon those chosen,
the Deimos knights were reciting rites in the serpantol tongue, each
hammerblow caused a flash of light, which if the hammerblow itself did not
slay the target with the impact, it would send them to the ground, nearly
defenseless for the follow up strike.

Upon entering the gate, the party made quick work of passing through the
underground, and slowly made their way into the chambers where the daemons
were kept. Chamber by chamber, the party engaged and cleared the daemons.
The hammers demonstrating their original purpose quite well, making fast
work of the chaotic beings, either killing them outright, or incapacitating
them. When it was All said and done, the last of the Daemons was left upon
a holy symbol to Nadrik, as a sign of the future, and a test well passed by
these long lost weapons, which would be repurposed to an entirely different
type of Heretic in the days to come.




Writer: Rorra

Date Tue May 21 10:33:23 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Piercing Clarity - chapter 6



The storm continued well into the night after having rained all
throughout the day. Would it ever come to an end so that she might find
some solace and sleep? Unlikely as even skies were shrouded in darkened
clouds as far as she could see every time she would poke her head out of the
massive tree. In order to pass the time, she had begun to carve All manner
of little symbols in a stray piece of wood. The practice would do her some
good after having kept herself from creating any new symbols of Turpa long
ago.

A lightning bolt struck near the tree, producing a snapping sound following
shortly by a soft thud. Rorra dared to peek outside shortly after, catching
sight of a fallen tree limb. The downpour quickly snuffed out the flames
the lightning strike, leaving the branch smoldering for a while longer. She
let out a heavy sigh of relief, glad to know that nature would take care of
it for now. A slow shake of her head and dipping it down before withdrawing
back to the safety of the tree, she returns to idly caring symbols into the
small piece of wood.

In the midst of her weary practice, a strange sound caught her attention.
The felar would then lift her head to gaze upwards through the enormous,
hollowed tree. Nothing out of the ordinary within the tree, then what was
it? No matter, it could wait until the storm had passed. A suddenly loud
shrieking sound cause her to draw the carving knife at a deep angle, ruining
several of them that she had previously finished embedding into the wood.
It was too much to ignore now. Something wanted her attention.

The storm was nearly over with the sun beginning to shine through some of
the distant clouds. While keeping herself highly alert, the instant she
heard anything speak, she turned her focus to it right away. It was at this
point that the voice became much clearer to her. This one was distinctly
male in nature, very gruff and commanding as opposed to the sweet, gentle
female one of her previous guest.

"We will watch your progress. "

The mere notion of there being more than one being watching her was
unnerving, but as the night had dragged on, it brought with it the need to
sleep at long last. Knowing that something out there was keeping an eye on
her made it difficult to find rest even once the last few droplets of rain
ceased to fall.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Tue May 21 22:04:02 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to war: Deimos Province and Daemons



The journey to Deimos was quiet and uneventful. The Haon Daran forest
brought back memories for Kyrlynn of when she was Empress. Over her many
years she had developed a habit of keeping trinkets either as a cherished
keepsake, as a reminder or incase there was ever a need for it again. She
didn't know why she had kept the vials from when they had saved he Haon
Daran villagers but she did. She had yet to regret a single trinket that
she had held on to.

The party slowed as they entered the village, shaking Kyrlynn from her
thoughts. The knights that greeted Mercerion drew her attention, though she
did not know them, the markings on their armor had a familiarity. After
dismounting from her horse and passing the reigns to a squire, Kyrlynn fell
in step beside the Emperor. As the Emperor introduced her, she dipped her
head to each man and made a point to shake their hand. It did not go
unnoticed that some of them noticed the serpent tattoo and markings on her
armor.

The Ambassador's curiosity about these Knights only deepened after they
finished lunch and stepped into the arming tents. Nothing about the weapons
that they possessed was normal, especially the huge warhammers that they
brought forth to show the Emperor. They were very old weapons, ones Kyrlynn
didn't recall ever having seen before though she recalled seeing their name
mentioned in old journals within the monk's temple and the Serpantol
library.

A demonstration was in order so they headed to Silversand with a group of
the Deimos knights. Kyrlynn glanced around at the Emperor and the knights
whom All wielded the warhammers, it was a fearsome sight especially for an
enemy. The gatekeeper and guards barely had time to react when the three
knights unleashed a warcry and attacked. Kyrlynn, with her swords in hand,
stayed back with Mercerion so that he could observe the fight and the power
of the daemonhammers.

It took only moments for the Knights to breach the gate, killing only those
they must. From there they made their way to the underground to find the
chambers where the demons dwell. Now they would see if there was any truth
to the legends of old. The Knights with their daemonhammers made fast work
of the first few daemons they encountered, striking enough fear that a few
of them tried to avoid the hammers and instead chose to charge at the
Emperor. A definite mistake on their part as his Kyorl impeded their path.


Kyrlynn didn't dispatch them quite as quickly as the Deimos knights with
their daemonhammers but it was quick enough. The Deimos knights took care
of the remaining daemons they encountered, it was an impressive sight to
watch. Glancing around at the slain daemons and then the one upon the holy
symbol, Kyrlynn sheathed her blades and remarked towards the Emperor as she
grinned, 'I need some swords blessed like that. ' One of the Deimos knights
glanced her direction and shuddered in response, "No Miss.. You do not. "

"Bah.. They never let me have any fun, " Kyrlynn grumbled softly. The
Emperor shook his head and laughed.




Writer: Rorra

Date Wed May 22 12:39:45 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 1



The weeks following the last time a voice spoke to her were nothing but a
blur. Rorra would function almost purely by instinct at this stage of her
mental instability. Things she thought were something or someone speaking
to her were nothing more than the ambient sounds coming from the surrounding
forest. Even so much as a strong gust of wind knocking loose an old tree
limb spooked her.

Without a storm to keep her beneath cover, the felar would still sit quietly
in various places around her home, just watching. Anything that would
rustle the leaves of a brush would quickly set her on high alert All over
again. She began to stare at All manner of things trying to determine
whether or not it was someone watching her. All of her efforts would always
result in nothing more than realizing once again it was All in her head.
Some time would pass, making her quietly doze off beneath the shade of a
tree, resting heavily against her drawn up knees.

A few hours later when she would finally awaken from her slumber, visibly
shaking from whatever terrible things it may have brought to her mind. She
lifts her head to look out across the slowly darkened clearing in the grove.
Something in the distance moved. Something humanoid that looked to be
snooping around her home. Quickly rubbing her eyes and squinting a bit to
focus on the shadowy figure, though it still would not be clear enough to
truly distinguish it from the rapidly growing shadows of the forest.

This was her chance to set things straight. Getting to her feet in a hurry
and bolting across the clearing as fast as her feet would carry her. There
was a strange, almost feral sensation flowing through her that demanded her
to press on. This was her territory and it would play to her advantage.
Reaching the first few trees on this side of the clearing where the figure
had been lurking would reveal a quickly and certainly unnaturally moving
shadow in the distance. A low growl emanates from the tigress' maw through
clenched teeth.

Rorra chased the shadow deeper into the forested areas beyond the point
where the light still gave some hint at the distant shadow. After the sun
had finally set, the felar came to a slow, bounding stop, catching herself
on a small tree. She was fast, but that was something else entirely.
Something that seemed to only get farther away the closer she seemed to get.


"Show yourself! What are you!? "

A light snort is followed by raking her claws across the bark of the tree at
her inability to keep pace with something in her own domain. With a slow
shake of her head, she would take one last look towards where that creature
had fled towards just before turning back to return home.




Writer: Rorra

Date Thu May 23 09:04:36 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 2



Rorra had run so far from her home through the dense thicket that
surrounded it and for it to only end without any answers was frustrating.
The walk back would be very long, but she at least had something to think
about. What was that creature and for what purpose did it seek to watch her
every move? More importantly, just how long had she gone without proper
sleep before this chase even began.

The felar would begin the long trek back soon after taking a moment to catch
her breath. Thoughts raced through her mind of who or what she could have
been chasing. Was it this mysterious entity that would be watching her?
Perhaps it was something that would come to light once the voice was
satisfied with her. So long as it could linger within her domain, it would
not see peace if she could help it.

A brief stumble would cause her to nearly trip and whack her head against a
low hanging branch. Holding her head for the time being and looking back to
see what she had even tripped over. A single twisted root that had grown
too close to the surface was the culprit here of All things. Grumbling to
herself now that she had not only wasted her time, but ended up hurting
herself in the process. Rorra turns away from the nuisance of a plant,
walking in the general direction she had been going before actually looking
and finding herself greeted with that very same branch.

The second blow was too much for her already weakened state. It sent her
reeling and fell backwards into the soft earth, unconscious. Strange
swirling colors filled her senses, drawing out long forgotten memories that
had been buried beneath the chaotic events of the last season. Watching the
colors settle into various shapes of All manner, including some that only
reminded her of what she had truly lost and what awful scenes she had
witnessed through her dreams. Some brought with them feelings of confusion
and despair while others were things she had never seen before. Prominent
among All of the things that passed through the blackened space of her mind
was a strangely shaped star bearing many points.

Trying to examine it closely only led it to replicate itself rapidly,
flooding away both itself and the rest of the colorful shapes in its own
inky blackness as a sea of stars. Groaning quietly and rolling over, she
would finally come to after some time. The sun was already rising above the
treetops while she was out of touch with the wilderness around her. Nursing
that wound would take some time, but for now she needed to find something to
eat before that too took its toll on her.




Writer: Geirhart

Date Thu May 23 19:18:28 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Fri May 24 12:34:04 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 3



The skies were clear this morning. All sorts of local fauna were out and
about, frolicking and playing as they please. A gentle breeze blows through
the trees, knocking loose a few stray leaves. A few of those leaves land
nearby a peacefully sleeping tigress beneath a tree providing sparse shade
at best. One leaf in particular ends up landing on her face, leaning
against the side of her muzzle causing her to roll over onto her side. She
draws her tail up around her legs, growing more comfortable in the new
position.

"Wake up. "

Stirring slightly at a voice that sounded so sweet and soft, but it was not
enough to bring her out of such a deep sleep. The nightmares had settled
down quite a bit recently. A result of coming to terms with everything so
far or perhaps merely having gotten so used to them that they have become
something pleasant instead. Whether or not that is the case, she certainly
was not going to wake up to yet another strange voice of All things at this
point.

"Please wake up, my dear. I am here with you. "

The felar would groan softly, hearing the voice yet again finally pushed her
to wake up at least briefly. Opening her eyes just enough to see a blurry
image of a finely dressed human female. Robes of deep blue cascaded down
their form, the details are lost within her still fuzzy vision. The voice
was more familiar this time at least. One she had heard only once before in
those nightmarish visions.

This was not right at All even to her sleepy mind. She pushed up off of the
ground in order to sit upright easier, though when she went to rub her eyes
and clear her vision to better focus on the robed figure, it was gone. Was
this just her mind playing tricks on her or was that actually Turpa trying
to reach her. A heavy sigh escapes her maw, disappointed to know that even
after All this time, something lingers in the back of her mind in order to
rekindle the desire to rejoin her Goddess in All aspects of her life.

"Just leave me alone.. "

Those words were clear enough for her to put the desperately clinging hope
back where it belongs. It served no purpose for her anymore to hope and
pray for salvation from Turpa or the betrayers that would happily hide
beneath Zandreya's trees. She would rather bide her time far away from
civilization.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 25 11:58:53 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Nehtur Ithelim All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna )

Subject Lost City - Friends in Need - I


Four nights and three days had passed since the knights became lost
within the cathedral's winding bowels. Words sent upon the wind, a call of
distress, had long traveled ahead of them and longer still went without
response.

The ancient catacombs stretched and twisted for what must have been miles
beneath the ruined foundations of Dae'tok, the elevation rising and falling
sporadically along the path. Each junction carried with it the agonizing,
uninformed choice of which passageway to follow.

Their progress was both spurned and impeded by wayward packs of ghul, the
small groups of cursed and twisted yinn decorated in the cloth of laymen and
temple servants. Baring only ceremonial arms and armor, they appeared more
preserved and markedly different than those same-afflicted masses of
soldiers and civilians above.

Progress was a relative term and though their way was marked by ritual
sites, statues, and chambers, whether any was being made remained in
question for the duration of their stay. The snaking tunnels were pocked
and lined with tombs and effigies along their webbed and aging walls.
Commemorations to the long dead, carved from dark stone and decorated with
jewels and finely smithed metals, stood beyond counting, though the majority
had not been spared from at least partial destruction.

The knights' fallen were afforded no such honors here. Blood and fresh
water both had become a scarcity for the three. The fiend would feed on the
men were they to first succumb to starvation or dehydration, but, with no
escape evident, even they might not have sustained his host long enough.

Every now and then de Vere muttered Infernal profanities at Ithelim, to whom
just days before he had recounted the tale of the last time he was trapped
beneath ground a confinement which spanned forty-some years. To whom
Xaran'xaxes confessed his loathing for such places within the mage's
material plane. Yet here they were.

As was the norm, the realm of shadow offered no respite, nor any clues as to
the way forward. None at least which the three could discern there and
then, despite the discrepancies glimpsed between the mirrored worlds. The
divergences were oft stark, though here amidst the wasting calamity they
appeared as but relatively small things.

Some of the stone tablets, into which Yinnish writing and pictographs were
hewn, presented different words and imagery when seen through the Umbra. In
other places, the statues' chiseled countenances had warped to reflect the
now blighted state of their creators. As well, lodged among the many yinn
skulls cemented into the walls, there would appear the skeletal heads of
creatures long forgotten or yet unknown.




Writer: Vincent

Date Sat May 25 12:01:31 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Nehtur Ithelim Jermichael All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna )

Subject Lost City - Friends in Need - II


Early into their delve, the trio had blazed their trail with the only
thing then available in abundance the remains of their dispatched foes. As
their journey prolonged, the lingering ghuls' number thinned and so too did
their supply of breadcrumbs. Ever the resourceful, the knights began to
ration the slain bodies by instead discarding dismembered parts and rotting
organs along the way.

The three regularly teased themselves out of looming despair with wisecracks
and ghastly humor, each in turn modeling limbs, gore, and black blood into
crass and juvenile displays along their grisly path. As they traded quips
and practiced jokes between ambiguous discoveries and the swift, now
experienced, felling of the odd aberration, they appeared as close and
longtime friends.

And so they were, as much as man and demon could be, for few friendships are
stronger than those forged in blood and hardship. Twas not love they shared
between them as any would sacrifice the other if it meant the advancement of
Necrucifer's Will. For one who follows the heart finds it shall bleed, the
three were joined by a bond far stronger: singularity of purpose.

Though no light came with it, near the dawn of the fourth day tendrils of
fresh air pierced the musty haze through which the three wandered. All
banter and capering ceased upon feeling the crisp caress against their
cheeks. The trio exchanged glances before wordlessly pursuing the current's
source with renewed vigor. It promised no escape and they knew not where it
led, only that it must have come from the outside.

Sounds of running water soon followed, yet these came mixed with the din of
a distant skirmish echoing through the halls. They heard only conflict, few
sounds distinct amidst the mash of scraping boots and clawed feet, the rings
of metal clashing against metal, and All of the crunching, snarling,
yelling, and groaning in between. The chorus of violence ceased before its
orchestra came into view, the knights' advance slowing to match the sudden
quiet.

The three rounded a bend to find themselves before a long stone pathway,
elevated just a few feet above a wide and lazy underground current. Long
cold braziers lined the bridge, only the party's light continuing to
illuminate their path. As they pressed forward, the promising smell of
fresh mortal blood tickled de Vere's heightened senses, preceding the sound
of a familiar heartbeat's pattern against perhaps a dozen more.

Then at the far end of the expanse, like the rising sun, the glow of others'
flames came into sight, painting the dismal stone with an orange hue. They
saw before them another group, much larger than their own. At this distance
the identities of both were obscured from view by the surrounding dark.
Each of the two companies came to a brisk halt and brought their weapons to
the ready, save for de Vere who instead only brandished a fanged grin.

"Jermichael McCord, " the archfiend intoned, calling out across the hollow.

The lost had been found.




Writer: Rorra

Date Sat May 25 13:01:05 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 4



Rorra leaned against one of her larger upper branches of the massive
tree, watching the horizon as a small collection of rain clouds were carried
by the winds towards her sanctuary. Yet another storm to endure, though
thankfully she had managed to find some sleep recently. The dreams might of
been strange and foreboding at best, but it was needed to keep her sanity in
check at the least.

"The third one in four days.. Are the magi toying with forces that are best
left alone? "

A simple shake of her head is All it takes to break away and turn her focus
onto more important things. Her typical clothing had become nothing better
than rags after so long of wearing them and she could not trust herself to
put together another new set herself. Especially considering hunting lately
has proven a chore and without a source of materials, there is no spare
clothing. That leaves her with one choice- the local marketplace within
Arkane. Retrieving what she did still have alongside a simple cloak to
better cover herself for the time being, she set out to regrettably seek out
a proper tailor.

There were numerous stalls lining the marketplace, many of them having
trinkets and baubles that served no real purpose. A few of them were very
strange, having useless rocks and bones for sale. One in particular caught
her interest in that it was selling clothing similar to a more traditional
means of covering herself. Approaching the storefront revealed no one
present out in the front of it. Rather than waiting around for someone to
show up, she took the liberty of inspecting a few of the outfits on display.

One was rather plain looking, bearing only a few markings denoting its
creator as well as a few decorative beads. The other however was something
to behold even for her low standards of apparel. The primary red colors of
the simplistic, yet intricate designs stood out quite a bit. Silver lines
the edges of the garments as well as having small swirls and lines to
accentuate the curves of it. The bottom bearing similar designs with the
addition of fiery orange feathers acting as a skirt. It was extravagant,
but.. It would do. By this point the shopkeeper had returned from the
back, surprised to see a felar looking at that particular outfit.

"Interested in that one are ya? Well Miss, we can certainly accommodate
you! "

"Will it.. Fit? "

"Of course! Enchantments are powerful enough these days that it will fit
perfectly for anyone that might wear it. "

Giving a slight nod, the tigress took another look at it, then a sidelong
glance at the shopkeeper who was grinning broadly at this point. Without
being connected to nature as she once was before this had All began, it
would of been a shameful thing to wear something that did not come from the
lands themselves. Now however? She would treat herself for once even if it
was abnormal for her to wear something like this. Maybe it would grow on
her.

Thanking the bubbly shopkeeper as she was handed a small package containing
the unique set of clothes and taking it back home. Laying each of the
pieces out on the ground to inspect them a little closer, they did look a
little too big for her. What choice did she have but to trust that woman
though? She would give that one the benefit of the doubt and put on each
piece that, while it was difficult at first, she did manage to tie the top
in the back as well as a small string that rested over the top of her tail
to keep it aloft easier. It was loose after all, but it looked fantastic
all the same, though after enjoying the spectacle of herself in the waters
reflection, the outfit magically shrunk down just enough to fit snugly on
her form.

"O-oh.. "




Writer: Rorra

Date Sun May 26 11:27:21 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 5



The night sky is devoid of clouds, the moon full and casting its pale
glow across the clearing. Standing near the edge of the water is a lone
tigress, still admiring the unique designs of the new outfit. She stretches
herself in ways that allows her to get a better view of it at All sorts of
angles, making certain that no matter how much she moved, it would stay in
place well enough. Satisfied with both the look of it and how well it is
able to stay in place, she spins quickly on her heel, catching brief
glimpses of the feathers as they move.

"Mm! Its just so perfect.. Why did I keep myself from these sorts of
things All this time? Some beliefs are truly best left behind at home. "

Her general mood had brightened significantly ever since she decided to
spend what little of her gold she had on herself. She had spent the past
few days taking more care of both herself and her new outfit above even
worrying over whether or not a storm was coming. The last one was almost
entirely ignored in favor of fashioning a simple hooded scarf. The only
thing that still bothered here at this point regarding the weather was
knowing that the symbols of her lost faith rested within the pond. Though
now she would reaffirm her choice when it began to creep in the back of her
mind.

"No longer do I hear the calling of the rain, nor do I seek shelter beneath
the boughs of Zandreyas forest. Release me of the shackles which bind my
soul. "

Rorra would often repeat this a handful of times throughout the day whether
it was raining or not, hoping it would suppress the visions within her
dreams. This time was different. Who or whatever had been watching her
actions seem to be pleased. The light of the moon was quickly blocked from
reaching the area, leaving it in total darkness. Thankfully it did not
bother her much, but it was distressing All the same. A searing pain
overcame her senses, bringing her to her knees as one hand is brought up to
her head, groaning in agony.

"I am pleased. "

The pain only intensified from there, spreading downwards through her body
until it finally forced a guttural scream from her. The overwhelming
presence of this being was terrifying far and away worse than those visions
ever were. Once even the tip of her tail ached with unending pain, it all
centered on a singular point as if it had been searching for the final
source of her past belief. The birthmark that resided on her neck, the
crescent moon encircling a raindrop. Breathing heavily under the incredible
pain, she slapped a hand over the mark on the right side of her neck as it
began to glow.

The fur there seemed to burn away, stripping away the flesh as well to the
point that blood began to seep into the fur of her hands. She pulled her
hand away from it, shaking while staring at her bloodied hand. The pain
grew even worse as the skin would knit itself back together rapidly along
with the fur. Unbeknownst to her the mark had been replaced with the eight
pointed star of Malachive and Chaos. Once it had All be done, both the pain
and the feeling of dread that followed the presence vanished. Along with it
was the restoration of the pale moonlight that shone down from the full
moon, casting a dim light on an unconscious and now marked felar.




Writer: Maccus

Date Mon May 27 00:30:57 2019




Writer: Maccus

Date Mon May 27 06:43:41 2019




Writer: Maccus

Date Mon May 27 06:47:58 2019




Writer: Rorra

Date Mon May 27 10:39:27 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 6



Rorra did not stir for several hours, remaining mostly still aside from
an occasional shifting of her tail. She barely gave signs of life beyond
that, breathing so shallowly that at a glance, one would assume the felar to
be dead in the wake of Malachive's presence. A particularly deep breath
would show more signs of life. The moonlight lingered still, though the sun
would rise soon to banish it from the clearing.

Another deep breath is followed shortly by a sudden gasp for air, filling
her lungs completely as she woke from a dreamless forced slumber. She
frantically looked All around the area, though not a soul to be found. Many
of the creatures that normally skittered about this close to dawn were still
keeping themselves hidden from sight. Her right hand subconsciously clasps
over the newly form mark, knowing it was different even if it feels the same
physically. She takes a few moments to run her fingers over the location a
few more times before finally creeping closer to the water. The still dim
light would provide just enough to get a good look at it.

There it was in All its glory, the birthmark that once stood as a testament
to her faith now twisted and warped into the very symbol of Chaos. It took
some time for it to truly sink in, but this alone was enough to change all
that she is and All that she will become. Still yet thoughts of Turpa
lingered in the back of her mind, calling out to her. A quick shake of her
head would at least temporarily keep her focused on more important matters,
namely who she would soon encounter now that she had been marked.

She stared quietly at the still water, examining herself in other places to
make sure everything was as it should be. A stifled yawn brings her hand to
her maw as if to hide it, but also rubbing her eyes to clear her vision a
little more from the unwanted nap earlier. Her reflection had changed, now
bearing the mark of Turpa once more. Was she still asleep and this too yet
another dream? The reflection began to pray even when she did not. Looking
away briefly to ensure she was alone and then back at her warped reflection
did not make it follow her own actions and she lightly slapped herself.
Thankfully, that was enough to break whatever mental imagery had taken hold.

Rorra gathered up her things and set out to find those who had also been
marked. The hooded scarf she had recently fashioned herself would serve to
cover the mark and keep it hidden from prying eyes for now while she walked
the lands. She had heard rumors of the cultists that followed Malachive
resided within her homelands of Tropica, that would be her first step in a
new bid for a new purpose. Just as soon as she had began to make her way
out of the grove, a voice would come, loud and clear in her mind.

"I await you in the ruined fane. Come and prove your worth as one of His
chosen. "

The message was clear as the cloudless night where in the past it had all
been muddled. Whoever spoke to her would not be kept waiting. Guided
almost as though a divine hand would show her the way, she followed along.
It would be a long trip by purchasing passing aboard the only ship that
would make regular trips to Tropica. Tomorrow would prove to be
interesting, but for now she must rest for the meeting with whomever spoke
those words.




Writer: Maccus

Date Mon May 27 11:34:30 2019




Writer: Rhykel

Date Mon May 27 17:24:06 2019




Writer: Rhykel

Date Mon May 27 17:37:39 2019




Writer: Geirhart

Date Mon May 27 19:54:49 2019

To All Austinian Imm Religion RP

Subject Necucifer's Rebirth: Aftermath of the Cultists



The old priest was tired. His hands hurt from wrapping the bodies. His
throat hurt from speaking prayers and consoling parents. His legs hurt from
walking to and from the small chapel to the graves. Most of All his heart
hurt for what was lost.

The cult had not sought a relic, nor a weapon, or a spell for their plan.
They had sought the death of children. Geirhart had laid to rest many
soldiers from wars with Chaos and the vampires but those were men sworn to
protect others. This, this was not warfare, it was slaughter for power. He
had been in the realms for almost a year and a half and this was the worst
vision he had seen even after Bodrum's death.

He had been working with All faiths to benefit Algoron but this moment had
made him question who he was now working with. This event changed
everything. There was no High Evil or Low just evil. Just the need for
power and the lengths people will go to obtain it. How would he continue
knowing the truth of it all?

The sun had started setting outside the small chapel. Only the lone priest
assigned remained to help him clean up. A orange glow lit the walls around
them as they worked in silence. Neither could speak, there were no words to
say. They had said them All for others, none left for each other. After
all was cleaned and holy items returned, Geirhart sat in a pew to think.
The other priest took a seat in another pew. He heard murmered prayers to
the Father. Geirhart just sat and stared at the window until night had
come.

He felt a touch on his shoulder, a knowing hand, and then footsteps. A
rusty door opened and closed. He was alone. He was a priest of Light, a
man who protected life. A quest to resurrect the Dark King that didn't
include slaying of children might have given him pause. He may have helped
them but that road was gone. Was he now to become just as biased as other
priests of the Light? As jaded?

The old man placed his head in his hands and took a deep breath. He had
prayed for others, prayed for the dead, and now he prayed to Austinian to
help guide him.

The shadows of the candles danced along the walls. The only witnesses to
the old man's prayers.




Writer: Symantha

Date Tue May 28 00:37:24 2019

To All Shadow Verminasia Necrucifer Imm RP Religion

Subject Cold Comforts



Head, body and soul bent before His altar.

It sat, stalwart as always, at the south end of the chamber and before it a
being that was even then being remade.

A puzzle that had known where All its pieces fit, the picture clear, was now
inverse. She had known change would be required. She had known sacrifice
would be necessary but where once a proud Knight, honorable and held to a
strict Code, stood - now she gazed down on hands stained with children's
blood and embraced a monster.

'Anything' she had prayed. 'Anything asked of us' and everything had been,
would be and was. She understood the full depth of that statement now.

'Perhaps we will never again be the same and perhaps that is exactly what
You, what Your Darkness, requires now.'

Her prayers were cold comfort in the stillness of the altar room. It was
still a sanctified chamber but in the wake of Necrucifer's demise, it had
grown deathly hushed and she had received few signs for All her devoted
entreaties.

She did not recoil from the horror she was faced with though, drawn instead
to reflect on the skepticism she had experienced from the moment the call
had been made to slay children. She could not recall ever being sought to
indulge such abhorrent behavior...with the exception of Deathmeer's
command on the eve of their Exile.

'...as long as it can be proven to advance the vision.'

It was the beginning of something she had been striving to grasp since His
fall. There was always a cost for failure. Failure on the level that had
occurred would require something greater than equal measure to appease.

Her fingers fisted around the onyx symbol of her God and she watched the
surface of the altar as certainty took hold. The plunge had begun and while
it had failed initially, she felt its after-affects peal out through the
shadows and resonate not only within her but within All of Necrucifer's
devout.

Those faithful to His Prophecy were now christened in the blood of children.
There were no depths to which they would be barred in seeking Necrucifer's
resurrection, but would the price demand everything in return? Whether or
not they had been tricked, they had proven their mettle and stained their
souls.




Writer: Rorra

Date Tue May 28 10:56:47 2019

To All Chaos Malachive ( Scorn Erebaal Immortal )

Subject Descent Into Madness - Warped Mind - chapter 7 (end)



Walking along the sandy shores of Tropica was rather fitting for this
occasion. She was home after so many years. No more than a few days travel
is All it would take to deliver her from what would change her life.
Whether it was for the best or not, no one could say, not even the felar who
took cautious steps towards the location she would finally meet this strange
voice. From the outside it was clear that something had ravaged this once
holy place. She was careful to not get too close at first, but at a
distance, she crept along the shoreline to just barely see inside. Inside
the burned out temple stood an imposing heavily armor-clad being.

The last chance to escape this fate and turn away was long since gone at
this point. Rorra quietly stepped into the temple and though it was utterly
destroyed from the inside, it still stood in defiance of the ones who would
desecrate it. Her gaze was immediately drawn towards the mark of Chaos that
seemed to be etched into the very air itself. Shifting around the side a
bit to get a better look at it would show that it is indeed held aloft by
some strange force. Her inspections were cut short very quickly as the
bulky armored figure turned to face the felar.

This being spoke not a word at first, but their gaze would send chills down
Rorras spine, making her shiver briefly along with a quick flick of her tail
as she regained composure. A familiar winged humanoid revealed herself from
behind the statue. The same one that had visited her long ago and the one
which had sown the first seeds of Chaos within her mind. A brief utterance
is All it took before an eerie smile formed on those lips alongside a single
nod towards the hulking form of the other present.

"Prove to me that All that you are will be to serve Malachive. Shed your
blood for Him. Solidify your resolve to lay low All who would stand in His
way. "

A crimson kris is carefully unsheathed and offered to the felar as a means
to make the offering of her blood. She took it, briefly examining the
wicked blade and noticing a curious dwarvish symbol on the pommel. That
much was ignored as she looked up towards the massive figure and without a
second thought, drew the blade across the palm of her left hand. A soft
growl escapes her maw as she makes a second cut across the back of her hand
as though a scar would show more plainly than a easily covered mark. She
gripped the hilt of the kris tightly, stepping closer to the airborne mark
above and clenching her fist, allowing the blood to flow freely onto the
ashen floor.

"If you truly vouch for her, seal the pact. "

The winged humanoid stepped forth and carefully took the blade from Rorra,
locking eyes with the felar and just as easily slicing open the palm of
their own hand as well. The blood pooled along with what had already been
drawn, mixing together on the floor. With that, the crimson weapon is
handed off back to the heavily armored being, who proceeds to wipe clean the
blade before sheathing it once more.

"Come then, felar. "

Not another word was spoken as she was shown to the entrance of their lair.
The feeling of dread had been washed away in awe of those who had welcome
her to this newfound purpose for her life. The other two had already walked
inside, but she took a moment to enjoy this feeling. She took a deep breath
before taking the last step into what she saw as a hallowed bastion set
within the lands of her home. She took one last look out into the
wilderness before descending into the darkness below, a broad, toothy grin
spread across her maw. She was home.




Writer: Jonathen

Date Sun Jun 2 21:37:53 2019




Writer: Malichi

Date Tue Jun 4 02:30:40 2019

To All Religion Imm RP Conclave

Subject Malichi Necrose.....Out of the SHADOWS


It's raw out...cold and dreary as it begins to rain. You walk along the desolate streets of Arkane as you notice a formless shadow dart behind you. You reach for your dirk as the shadow disappears, a chill comes across you as you feel a breath across you neck. You turn and lunge at what you think is an attacker, dagger in hand, but All you see is a tattered parchment reaking of death.

You hold this paper up to the moonlight and it GLOWS revealing the words below....

"Wha?....Wher....Where am I? What happened???????

As you read the parchment the words simply appear....and dissapear...as your eyes move across the page.
You continue....

I...I did the incantation correctly....Why am I still here?! Where is NECROSE???!!!???

This is what happens when you play too hard with the Dark Majicks. Malichi Necrose was just another traveler in the world of Algoron. Banished from the Black Robes of the Conclave. He was alone, left to further his training without the widsom of the wizards of the three towers.

But this was long ago, for Malichi Necrose has not been seen nor heard from for nearly 100 years. He had vanished, disappeared and thought for dead. Amazingly he appeared, materialized out of the shadows in front of a group of priests in the Altar of Darkness outside of Arcane.

All that work...for nothing?...What now? I am so lost......

100 years ago he had attempted to bring forth the Demon Necrose from the demi-plane of the Shadow. The same plane in which Malichi can draw Magicks from to disappear into the shadows. Necrose lives in flux, aware of the world of Algoron only through Malichi's interactions with it. Malichi was trying to bring forth the Demon so he could rule Algoron.

Malichi traveled the world from the Stygian Sea to the {nKurotaka Mountains and from The Seige to the Underworld. He had gathered All he needed, went to the Tower of High Sorcery and began his work.....

Rings of the North, South, East and West are set on his fingers, the Amulet of the Underword around his neck, he fuses the Dark Pendant with the Metal Seal of the Shadow.....his eyes glow red as he says the following words....

......................................................................................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................................................................
.... .Tuulo' i' Rhun a' i' Numen ar' tuulo' i' For a' i' Har amin yela necrose. I' val en' huine duna de a' overcome i' palurin en' me'a ar' ikotane shall lle overcome sina palurin
...........................................................................................................................................................................
...........................................................................................................................................................................

In an instant Malichi fades into the Shadow Realm......and never returns. He is lost in flux, unable to return.Time passes him by as the decades go on....

........And then came The Fate of Nadrik and the death of Necrucifer. This shook the realm to its core. As a follower of Necrucifer Malichi was flung out of the Shadow Realm and back into the world. His soul was broken. His body bent in a contorted fashion to match the scars on his face. He was a man without a god and a mage without a master.

The priests at the Altar of Darkness healed his wounds and tended to his spirit. Malichi, a torn and broken soul, stayed in temple library learning about Drakarra and began praying to the Queen of Darkness. Life sprang into him and he left there with one goal.....to complete his training as a Necromancer of the Black Robes of the Conclave.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Tue Jun 4 22:51:37 2019

To All Cayenna Immortal Religion

Subject Road to War VIII: A True Test.



As the yellow haze descended on Algoron, many in the Deimos province had
sought shelter. Many of the citizens of the Haon Daran headed for the
monestary, while a small band of armored knights set out from the eastern
hill. Their armor was covered in the same serpentese runes as the large
hammers they carried, and among them was the Emperor of Althainia, and the
few warriors whom had come to visit the Deimos province in preparation for
the war.

As they hit the road leading to the city, the Emperor and his warriors
turned east back towards the city, while the trio of Deimos knights saluted,
preparing to turn west, the cries of the cultists and already calling the
faithful of the fallen Master to them. As the knights moved to depart,
Mercerion gave a quick nod to the Ambassador, and asked her to join the
Deimos knights, "I'm going into the lost temples to find Geirhart, and get
him to the demon. Help these knights fight the Demon by the lake, and see
if its not too late to save the child
."

Kyrlynn began to protest, but Mercerion had already spurred his warhorse
back towards the west gate of Althainia, kicking up clods of dirt in his
wake. Kyrlynn sighed in frustration, but then nodded to the Deimos knights.
The commander of the trio grinned, and gave Kyrlynn a gift, a pair of blades
near perfectly matched, glowing in the same runes that covered their
hammers, "Seems you get to have some fun after all, M'lady."

It had taken little time for Mercerion to open a portal into the great
forest, and has he charged through, evidence of the struggle became readily
apparent, as many sections of the forest were scorched, doubtless from
dragonfire. There were signs of battle throughout the forest leading to the
lost temples, and All four draconian guards were defeated already, and the
acrid smell of the spell components used by the black robes was heavy in the
air.

Clasping the holy avenger that Mercerion had acquired from Ofcol's Marshal,
Mercerion rode hard through the path to the temples and to the gnomish
priest. Breathlessly Mercerion handed the priest the Holy Avenger, and was
instantly transported within, to find Geirhart fighting the black-skinned
demon.

A zealous warcry rang through the temple as Mercerion spurred his warhorse,
charging into the Demon and smashing his shield into the chest of the demon,
drawing its ire from Geirhart. A pitched battle ensued, the demon wrapping
its tail about Mercerion's legs and wrenching him from his horse to the
ground.

Caught in the beast's grappling, Mercerion lashed out with several
mail-fisted punches, trying to keep the Demon's attention and managed to
succeed, long enough for Geirhart to utter a prayer to Austinian, and smite
the demon's skull asunder with a well aimed strike. After a short moment,
Geirhart helped Mercerion up, and Fynix's voice could be heard through the
realm that the lesser demon had been found. The two Althainian's shared a
brief nod, and prayed for transportation home to join the fight.





Writer: Ezessinth

Date Wed Jun 5 11:42:40 2019




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Wed Jun 5 14:58:34 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna Immortal Religion

Subject Road to war: A True Test



They had still been at the Deimos Province when the weird yellow haze
descended from the black moon. The knights, Emperor and his accompanying
soldiers had made their way to the road. Once there though they parted
ways, the knights turning west towards the lake while the Emperor and
accompaniment turned east towards the city. Kyrlynn had moved to join
Mercerion and others in heading towards the city but he stopped her.

"I'm going into the lost temples to find Geirhart, and get him to the demon.
Help these knights fight the Demon by the lake, and see if its not too late
to save the child. " She didn't even get the chance to protest and of
course he knew she would try. He had turned his horse almost immediately
and was gone. He would be alright, she reminded herself and sighed as she
ran her hand across her cheek before turning back to the Deimos knights.

"Seems you get to have some fun after all, M'lady. " The commander said
after handing her a pair of exquisite blades. The craftsmanship on the
blades was remarkable and they were near perfectly matched. She gripped the
pommels in her hands, admiring the weight and the feel of them when her eyes
caught sight of the glowing runes that ran over them. Breathing out a
murmured 'Oh they're.. " She grinned at the commander and bowed deeply to
the knights.

She would have liked more time to thank the knights for such a gift but too
much was at stake at the moment. The Knights mounted up and spurred their
horses west along the road with the Ambassador easily keeping up. They
could hear the calls of the cultists as well as the Austinian's faithful.
She knew they were after children... But the sight of the child's body
crucified turned her stomach. They had not been fast enough.

The call had been made to find the demon and slay it, so they set out to
search for the vile beast. As they hunted for it, Fynix's voice rang out
that they had found the demon. Kyrlynn and the knights quickly rushed to
join the fight. With her new blades, the ambassador began to softly hum her
tune as she joined the battle. The ruins glowed brightly along her blades
as she landed blows upon the demon.

Slaying the demon was truly a combined effort as those from the towers,
Althainia, New Thalos, and Arkane banded together in the fight. Once the
towers had used their spells to weaken it, it was simply a matter of
finishing it off. The blades that she wielded and the hammers the knights
fought with made that task much easier. Eventually the demon fell at their
hands. They had managed to stop them for now.

She sheathed the swords and placed a hand on the Deimos commander's
shoulder, "I will truly cherish these. Thank you. " Her gaze shifted to
the Emperor who had arrived at the end of the fight, they shared a nod
briefly before Kyrlynn turned her gaze back towards the direction of the
child's body. "Oh the damage that is sown by the desperate and weak, " she
murmured softly to herself and breathed out a heavy sigh.




Writer: Ezessinth

Date Thu Jun 6 13:18:56 2019




Writer: Jermichael

Date Thu Jun 6 18:07:00 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse All ( Necrucifer Ampersand Cayenna Imm RP )

Subject Lost City - Friends in Need - Rescue


Beneath the heavy helm upon his head, Jermichael smiled as he heard the
voice of de Vere. He slid his hammer down in to it's sheath at his side and
took a step forward to the edge of the ancient and narrow bridge. He waited
and watched as the trio made their way to him, the dim lights of the
braziers guiding them across.

"About time you decide to join us, gentlemen.." , Jermichael quipped as he
removed his helmet, displaying a slight grin.

"It is good to see you Dark Lord", stated Nehtur as he reached the far end
of the narrow causeway. Jermichael extened his hand and pulled the
Chancellor across before turning to assist the other two.

"There is an exit not far from here, where this stream exits through a small
tunnel and from the ruins."
, Jermichael stated as they turned to join the
rest of the knights awaiting them inside the stone hallway.

As the formation turned and began making their way back through the tunnel,
Vincent turned his gaze to Jermichael, "I sensed battle, did you meet much
in the way of resistance?"
They turned and entered a small chamber and
Jermichael stopped. Vincent turned to inspect the room and grinned. What
had once been a pack of Ghul lay scattered in various states of mutilation
and death, most had their heads removed or had simply been bashed in.

Jermichael chuckled and stepped over one of the corpses, "Let us put this
place behind us, and meet up with the Eclipse and Verminasians. We still
have much work to do."


"That we do, sir" replied Ithelim, as he used his foot to roll a severed
head out of his way.




Writer: Vincent

Date Fri Jun 7 08:52:19 2019

To Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Nehtur All ( Necrucifer Cayenna Religion )

Subject The Lance, The Lash, & The Eye: Prologue



Of those vexatious things which poked and prodded the mind of
Xaran'xaxes, Gorsythe's unwelcome intrusion into his designs for the
nullstone came a far second to the rival archfiend's means of discovering
said machinations. Though the Drakkaran had once been a subservient ally
for well over four centuries, now he had festered as a non-healing wound for
nearly as long. The archfiend of Necrucifer would suffer the rot no longer.


Amidst hallowed and well guarded ruins under the crimson of dusk, Nehtur
Reguarlt and Vincent de Vere stood in shadow before the Abyssal portal ever
churning within. A murmuring wind came from the swirling maw as it
insatiably sucked at the air around it, fiercely whipping at the men's
effects, causing their attire to noisily rustle and clink about their
persons. As they hovered before the precipice the two exchanged parting
words, straining their voices to be heard above the portal's roar.

"May you return soon, " Nehtur bid his comrade farewell.

"If not in this body, then another, " the demon mused in response, for the
destruction of his host was an assumed risk. "Do you remember what I told
you?
"

Nehtur dipped his head in accordance. The two had exchanged personal
information seldom spoken aloud, in the event that Xaran'xaxes was forced to
possess another mortal form. They held no records between them of a fiend
returning to the Abyss within a mortal body, never mind what effects
followed if one did.

"Lillian de Vere died from a crossbow bolt through the throat 180 years ago,
" Nehtur repeated.

"And you've a sordid history amongst Gareth's and Greystoke both. Shame on
you,
" the fiend confirmed back, a smirk tugging at de Vere's lips. It was
met in kind by Nehtur's own.

"What's that? " Nehtur inquired after a brief pause, nodding at the large
sack roped to de Vere's wrist.

"A gift of springtime air. A rare treat and a potential bargaining chip, "
Xaran'xaxes replied. Nehtur raised a curious brow and snickered under the
howling wind. De Vere winked in confidence and continued, "I'll return when
the ethereal dragon's eye is destroyed and Gorsythe lies broken at my feet.
"

"Aye! Ambactus a Caligo, " the shadow knight intoned, clapping de Vere on
the shoulder. It seemed not so long ago that their roles were reversed.

"Darkness keep you, mortal, " the demon bade with a fanged grin, mirroring
the gesture with a firm hand pressed against Nehtur's plated shoulder. The
Infernal Planes awaited.

De Vere stepped into the portal, fiendish soul and mortal flesh claimed in a
flash of unholy light. The thunder of storm clouds gathering above trailed
in his wake. Ever insatiable, the gateway to the Abyss swallowed hi and
continued to seethe and groan without pause. After more than two centuries
upon Algoron, the demon lord was returning home.




Writer: Angela

Date Sat Jun 8 08:57:40 2019

To All Knighthood Althainia Gray_Church Immortals Taliena

Subject Think of the Children



Reining in her filly, Page Esther of the Knighthood dismounted as close
to the pastures as she could, finding a clear stretch of fencing to tie her
mount to, in order to ensure she wouldn't wander off. As always, she took a
moment to ensure there was no sign of trouble, no marauding Bloodlust, no
attacking dragons. No, the day was pleasant, if a little on the cool side,
and she saw everything was more or less peaceful as she approached the Nomad
village.

She could sense right away something was wrong. It wasn't immediately
obvious, everyone looked to be going about their daily routine, the Nomad
Guards stopped her on the way in but since she was unarmed save for her
faith, they let her through. But here and there she saw signs of sorrow.
Women weeping when they thought no one was looking. Men holding their tools
too tightly, faces tight with anger. And children, instead of running and
playing and being carefree, keeping close to their homes, some even fleeing
at the sight of her.

Angela had just enough personal vanity to be upset by that. She wasn't a
monster.

Making her way to the nearest home, she found the nomads leader and told him
why she had come. "... to help with the families who have lost their
children, and anyone who was injured in the attacks."

There were a lot of them, and if truth was told (and it was) Angela could
not restore the lost children to their parents. But she did All she could
to ease their burden anyway while the healing process began.

Sometimes it was healing the injuries of a wounded parent who'd tried to so
desperately protect their offspring from the Necruciferans attack. Setting
broken bones and mending torn flesh. Sometimes it was taking over a few
chores around the village while a grieving father was left in the company of
his friends to mourn. And sometimes it was offering a comforting shoulder
to cry on for the wailing mothers who lost their only child. It hurt,
watching them, making Angela want nothing more than to flee, to close her
eyes and her heart and keep the sorrow away, ignore it as none of her
business. But bravely she steadied herself and remembered she was here for
the people, not for herself. Her comfort was nothing compared to what they
had lost.

This was the very least she could do.

It was growing dark by the time she finished, and even then, she still had
so much more to do. Much as she wished to stay the night and keep working,
Page Esther had duties back with the Knighthood to fulfill. So reluctantly
she bid her farewells and returned to the pastures where her horse was.

"May you have a blessed evening," she intoned with a bow of her head, before
moving to loosen the reins of her horse keeping it in place. It had been
grazing All day, but she owed it a good rubdown and some oats (and maybe
some carrots) on the weekend for being so diligent. She was about to climb
up when someone tugged at her robe. Turning, Angela saw one of the nomad
children, holding a glowing jar in their grimy little hands.

"Well hello little one. How may I help you?"

He didn't reply verbally, evidently on the shy side, but held up the glass
jar for her, offering it at arm's length.

"Oh, for me? That's very sweet of you." Accepting the jar, Angela held it
up, and saw to her delight it was full of tiny glowing fireflies. Little
green dots of light that flickered in and out as she turned their container
round in her soft hands, marvelling. She was about to thank the child again
for the gift, but they were already running back to the village and their
home.

Smiling, Angela placed the jar in her saddlebag before climbing onto the
filly. It had still been a long, tiring day, but as always, the darkest
moments could not extinguish the light. And so she headed home to Gareths
Keep feeling fulfilled.




Writer: Wyltte

Date Sun Jun 9 18:21:14 2019

To All Immortal Religion Necrucifer

Subject Feral



The gasses escaped from the crevices below him, tendrils of mist rising
into the thin air and being whisked away at the slightest breeze. Wyltte
stood at the summit of Cadalach Pronnasg, the shaft of his spear dug into
the ground as he surveyed the lands.

After returning to the world from his fall, Wyltte found himself
increasingly restless. After the incident with the demon, people without
the stomach to handle a little darkness fled in droves. Cowards and
hypocrites, the lot of them. They lack the stomach to handle serving under
the source of All evil.

Nearby he could hear the squeal of a fox tearing apart its pray, the yiffing
noise echoing through the mountain air. He could smell the crispness of the
wind here, feel the cold prick of numbness from the frigid altitude against
his skin. It connected him to the lands, and perhaps, that is what kept his
faith going. Knowing the blood of Necrucifer flowed through the rivers and
subterranian waters beneath.

Wyltte had left the priesthood, and it was one of the hardest decisions he
ever had to make. It was not an absence of faith or not being able to take
the world's ridicule, although there were quite enough sarcastic and
worthless bastards out there that don't understand what the loss meant, but
he truly needed to feel like he could kill again. As a Priest, he hated
hiding behind elementals or curing the ill. He wanted to run his blade
across the throats of his enemy, he wanted to see the rivers of blood flow
from their insolence, he wanted to...

High in the sky Wyltte heard the screech of a golden eagle. He gripped his
spear shaft as hard as he could, nearly splintering the wood. The light
reflecting off its golden feathers made his blood boil. He planted his
right foot back, pulled his arm back with the spear and aimed high. Then
with a mighty heave, he sent the weapon flying towards the heavens.

Wyltte watches the shaft fly straight in the air, streaking towards the
eagle. His eyes flashed with anger, and storm clouds stared to appear
overhead in a black, roiling row. Thunder peeled from the sky as the spear
shot forward. At the instant it connected into the breast of the eagle, a
bolt of lightning pierced the sky, splintering the spear and the bird into a
million tiny fragments. It rained blood, feathers, and bits of wood, the
smell of burning flesh now carried on the wind.

Wyltte watches some errant feathers flit into the breeze, gone without a
trace, much like the creature who dared to interrupt his thoughts. Would
this be him one day? Lost to the world over a bit of anger from forces
deemed more superior than him?

Wyltte mumbled a few more words, his skin turning into this dripping,
corrosive acid as he laid down on a small patch of grass on the summit. All
the vegetation around him died as he placed his arms behind his head and
looked into the heavens. In his mind's eye he saw the black moon. He felt
the pain of the past welling up in his breast. And he thought and thought
and thought about what was next.




Writer: Ezessinth

Date Sun Jun 9 20:04:38 2019




Writer: Ezessinth

Date Sun Jun 9 20:07:20 2019




Writer: Wyltte

Date Mon Jun 10 19:26:36 2019

To All Necrucifer Immortal Religion Scorn

Subject Storms



The darkened sky peeled with numerous reports of thunder as lightning
streaked down from the heavens, the echos reporting off the mountainside and
valley like cannonfire on the sea. The weather was as foul as Wyltte's
mood. His mind raced with thoughts since returning to Verminasia. Some
good, Some bad, Some trivial.

The Dark City had been changed since the betrayal, the once raucous and
lively population now worn down by the constant ridicule of the souls who
did not lose what they had lost. The citizens tried to support one another
to keep their spirits up, but the calls of the lost came in many forms, and
the priests had no answers. The mockery came from everywhere, and All they
can do is withstand their taunts with as much resiliency as one can muster.
It was one of the reasons Wyltte could not continue to be a priest. He knew
he would die with the faith of the Master in his heart, but knew not how to
lead His faithful. So he decided to serve in other ways.

A few more cracks of thunder pierced the sky, and Wyltte stirred briefly to
look around. It had drifted into the late afternoon, the sun in the distant
horizon just above a far-off hill. The fading light made it difficult to
see, but Wyltte had been training for this. He doused the fire he had
burning in the shrunken head of a paladin at his side, and let his eyes
acclimate to the dark. Bits of red flecked from his eyes as he saw in
perfect clarity despite the lack of illumination.

Wyltte let his mind drift back to the situation again. It was almost too
ironic that the Darkness worked hard to win the shards of Seanan over the
years, yet paid the heaviest of costs. A heavy price. He would have traded
Devion over the Master any day of the week.

And then the world just accepted the Death of their Gods like a death of a
family member. After Mencius was torn apart, there was maybe a cow far
complaint from a Minotaur before silent. Siccara wasn't even an
afterthought since they got their precious Nadrik back. They let them go
without a fight.

But the servants of Necrucifer were loyal. They refused. Wyltte refused,
even if it meant his death. Many he knew would never wake again in this
world's realm without knowing the chance to bring back the Eternal was
possible.

And he felt it was. And then the demon descended, and apparently demanded
sacrifices at such high a cost.

That is when the world turned. They felt this was some plan made by the
citizens of the Dark City themselves, many turning on their fellow
residents. They saw it as some concocted idea coming from Verminasia,
blaming the residents for doing what they could to bring back the source of
their very existence. They judged, and unfairly, for they didn't know the
pain of losing the meaning for their existence. To serve Him.

Wyltte stands up from his resting spot, angry at All the ignorance and
blaming of the people he knew as his family and friends. Angry that the
world saw them as murderers as opposed to desperate souls wanting to restore
their God.

He took one look towards the edge of the mountain, and a wild notion
overtook him. He strapped his spear to the bone bear sheathe on his back
and took a running start. A giant bolt of lightning hit the spot he had
just sprinted from, a dazzling display of light exploding through the air.


Wyltte sprinted towards the rocky edge of the summit, and in a moment of
pure emotion, he jumped into the yawning mouth of nothingness and plunged
downwards from the mountain ridge into the lands below.




Writer: Daljin

Date Thu Jun 13 03:33:26 2019




Writer: Wyltte

Date Thu Jun 13 23:18:07 2019

To All Necrucifer Immortal RP Religion Roleplay

Subject Mist



Down Wyltte flew through the mist surrounding the mountaintop, the
droplets forming on his face as he fell through the twighlight into
uncertainty. There was no fear in his heart or worry in his bones. He
faced uncertainty with the confidence of a man with nothing to lose. For
truly, that is exactly what he was.

As he plummeted ever faster towards the ground, it reminded him of his time
spent falling within the crevice at the Master's Holy Grove. He was
resigned to forever pitching forward in the ebony womb of eternity, until
Zisuli's voice called out to him. At first, he heard but did not listen,
reminding himself that without his God, he was nothing. As he listened more
carefully, her voice in his head amplified by the absence of noise, Wyltte
heard something different this time. He heard emotion. He heard concern.
He heard that which His Master had bled for in this world he heard free
will.

Wyltte was never a sentimental man, and would sacrifice anything for
bringing of the Prophecy and the continued service of His God. He did not
give away his heart carelessly, not let his guard down. His own will he
tied to service to Necrucifer. Yet, in doing so, he forgot to live. He
forgot to revel in the fact he was able to live his life the way he wanted
because of the ability to have free will.

And All of a sudden, he started to truly listen.

The mist had All but cleared, and Wyltte found himself only a fwe thousand
feet from the ground rising to meet him. He outstretched his arms and
started to chant, a low gutteral sound in his throat. Pain racked his body
as he could feel each one of his bones cracking inside of his frame. His
body twisted and contorted, the fingers on his hands snapping and moving in
odd shapes as he plummeted to the ground. His eyesight started to grow
sharper and he felt lighter. His skin burnt like fire as small feathers
started to protude from his flesh. And then, only about 200 feet from
certain death, Wyltte soared back into the sky, but in the shape of a great
owl.

He flew through the air with a grace not afforded to him in his human body,
his burnt amber eyes seeing through the darkness as it was broad daylight.
He saw night creatures scurrying from place to place, free from the animals
who hunt during the day. Wyltte knew where he had to head. Towards the
Eastdrift camp. He needed to get back on track and finish what was started.
Whether or not it was possible to bring the Master back was not the issue.
He was going to try that regardless. He now knew that even though he was no
priest, he needed to live the life he told others to live for years. He
would remember the voices in his head calling out to him, and remember the
pain in his heart. But he would not let it change the fact that he had much
to do.

As he flew towards the camp, a coughing came up low in his throat that
consumed him. He nearly choked as he flew along, losing some altitude and
nearly crashing beak first into a tree. Finally, a large pile of fur and
bones came sailing from his throat into the forest below. It looked like
the remains of a raccoon or possibly a ferret. Dark Gods, when did he eat
that?

He hated being an owl.




Writer: Daljin

Date Fri Jun 14 01:10:52 2019




Writer: Daljin

Date Fri Jun 14 01:11:00 2019




Writer: Daljin

Date Fri Jun 14 01:11:04 2019




Writer: Ylethsalisar

Date Fri Jun 14 11:19:11 2019

To All ( Zandreya Fatale Relgion RP Imm )

Subject The Riddle 1/2



Humidity hung in the afternoon air like a shroud. The lingering evening
chill of the changing season sharpened the cloying sensation of latent
moisture. Fog was likely to rise with the shifting temperature as the sun
slid ever further below the horizon. Moisture beaded on verdant scales the
dark green of jungle leaves. Humidity softened the sheen of scales the
bright green of new leaves. A fluid ripple of scales that accompanied a
slight shift in the bakali's stance sent runnels of water along a path of
tiny emerald scales that flowed in a diamond pattern between fields of
larger, darker scales.

The bakali stood stationary with near-perfect stillness. Uncounted minutes
had passed before he began to move with sinuous grace. The only sounds that
marked his passage were the faint rustle of grass and the light rattle of
the bones of his armor. The grass was only just beginning to ripen with the
flight of the cold season. Most of the land near the fen was still sere and
slumbering. The hunting was good and the air was pleasingly damp, though
cooler than he would have preferred. Birdsong and the susurration of
insects surrounded him. Sharp sounds would occasionally arise, only to be
cut short- the sounds of predators seeking sustenance. The sounds of life
and death.

The interwoven concepts of life and death were both the source of his former
immobility and the target of the bakali's focus. Slow steps, flowing and
determined, carried his large frame through a single circuit until he once
more stood in the spot that he had previously occupied and once more became
almost motionless. A tangible juxtaposition of the interwoven cycles of
death and life and the subject that had prompted his intense study stood
before him. Large eyes of lambent jade gazed upon two alder trees. Slender
trunks rose several spans into the air. Tough roots sank deep into the rich
soil near the fen. Yet the similarities between the two trees that grew
just a few feet apart ended there.

One of the trees was alive and healthy with a reddish cast to its bark, its
numerous sturdy branches boasting lush leaves that were already denser than
other foliage for this early in the season. The other alder was dead. A
muted brown color darkened its pale and lifeless bark. No leaves had
adorned its frail branches this season. Two trees that could have mirrored
each other instead stood as dichotomous examples of the extremes of
existence- the stark visualization of the opposition of life and death.

The bakali contemplated the scene before him. He could recognize some
plants and trees, but he was no druid. He felt at home in the untouched
wilds where the rules of survival were unyieldingly simple, but he was no
ranger. No obvious parasite had infected the dead tree. The trunk was not
blackened and cracked by lightning nor was it split by sap freezing in the
winter. Less than a span apart stood the healthy tree, hale and
unafflicted. There was no reason why one was dead and the one beside it
alive. No reason beyond the only reason for anything.

Death was an ever present aspect of life- that difficult lesson had shaped
the bakali's life. Within his tribe, he had risen to the position of
Culler, tasked with maintaining a balance between life and death. An
overpopulated environment could not long endure and an overabundance of life
must be culled to maintain the balance. Too much life ravaged the land and
too much death was wasteful. Yet through death, the cycle of life found an
equilibrium. Life required death in order to sustain itself. Smaller
animals fed on plants and were prey that larger animals killed to survive.
The death of those animals fed the plants that fed more small animals to
continue that cycle of life and death. Even this dead tree would eventually
decay and crumble to mulch that would feed and further strengthen the
healthy tree beside it. Death was the end of every journey.




Writer: Ylethsalisar

Date Fri Jun 14 11:25:17 2019

To All ( Zandreya Fatale Religion RP Imm )

Subject The Riddle 2/2



Death had come for the bakali before, and he still bore its mark. Below
the ribs on his left side, a scattering of pallid green scales remained like
a pattern of fractures in a sheet of glass. Those scarred scales still
marked the point where a spear had been thrust deep into his body. He had
taken that wound on that dark day of death's arrival. The heathen masses
had swarmed his tribe and destroyed All that they found. The shallow waters
of the mere had been stained crimson with the blood of the Mere tribe.
Bodies floated unheeded and the step pyramid had been breached and sacked.
After his next molting, the scales would become uniform and whole and erase
the last of the scar, he suspected. The scars etched into his spirit would
not fade until his final day.

The wound he sustained should have meant his death. Like All the others,
the bakali had fallen before the living tide of death and collapsed into the
mere that had been his home with no expectation of awakening as the darkness
swallowed him. The mind-searing pain and ensuing weakness that wracked him
when he awoke nearly defeated his will. The stench of death, the reek of
spilled entrails, the scent of water-logged bodies bloating in the sun
surrounded him and overwhelmed his senses. Dragging his battered body away
from his former home, he had fled from death, only to embrace death in his
life.

The bakali's long, heavy tail abruptly lashed the grass behind him. The
forked tip of his long tongue extended as he tasted the scents on the air.
Once more, he circled the trees, studying them with an intense gaze that was
interrupted only rarely by the slow blink of nictitating membrane that moved
across the surface of his eyes. Scrutinize as he might, he could discover
nothing that would explain why one tree had lived while the other had died.
Their fates appeared unlinked and unshared. It was a riddle with no answer,
as was the greater riddle that roiled within his thoughts.

His choice to worship nature as a hatchling had been met with ridicule and
disbelief. The ways of battle and cunning were respected by his tribe.
After death had come for him and death had enveloped the world that he knew,
he had worshiped death. There was nothing else. Yet as he journeyed
through these colder lands, the bakali had encountered those who still
worshiped nature. He had met those who worshiped magick, decay, and battle.
There were even those who worshiped the fictitious concepts of honor and
love, assigning complex and nebulous definitions to those idle works of
imagination.

Still the thoughts nagged at him, as they had for days before finding these
alder trees had honed the questions to a lethal edge. Was there more to
life than death? Was there reason and meaning beyond that inescapable
certainty that death was the final truth? The sun vanished below the
horizon. With his variegated green scales blending into the rising fog and
night shadow, the bakali continued to stalk around the trees and continued
to puzzle over his own riddle.




Writer: Wyltte

Date Fri Jun 14 16:24:51 2019

To All Necrucifer Immortal Religion RP Ezessinth

Subject Song of Sorrow



Wyltte, as an owl, landed on the top of a guard post over the camp.
Riordan did a good job, but Wyltte could see the wear and tear from when he
had last left set in. Along the northern defenses, a row of pikes had been
charred and the wall smashed from a Yaenni attack. There were still many of
them roaming Icewall, and did not act kindly to strangers. From on top his
perch and with eyesight so keen he could clearly see a field mouse darting
in and out between storehouses. He looked at the faces of the men and women
at the fort. We he found did not shock him.

Despair. Fatigue. Spirits drained of worry.

Wyltte Started to chant again as a cold wind blew in from the west, his
feathers shrinking back into his skin with a ripping pain. The
disinterested men and women now looked up at the top of the guard house, and
there knelt Wyltte. He had not been seen here in almost a year, so the
hushed whispers of the crowd started to drift into hearing. Talk of how he
no longer wore the uniform of Deathwatch, of that the rumor was he had
succumbed to his wounds from Harpies.

Wyltte looked around towards the ground and found a massive hay mound used
to feed the mounts that came to the camp. He leapt into the air and came
crashing down into the hay pile, sending bits of the hay flying into the
air.

Wyltte stood up, brushing off the hay from his body as he moved towards the
segment of fence the people started repairing half-heartedly. People stood
by and watched him moved past with nary a word, keeping their distance. One
pointed out the grizzly shrunken skull of a paladin tied to his belt now, an
eternal flame burning within the skull. Another noted his lack of priestly
garb. Wyltte continued walking to the fence, he steps slow and deliberate.



Once he arrived at the fence he stripped off his shirt and laid it on a
sawhorse. Someone wondered out loud where his belly full of sacrificial
wine went. The shaman training had been a chance to start getting back to
that fighter he once was. Picking up an axe, Wyltte went over to some uncut
timbers. He picked it up an braced it against the still standing fence.
Men and women who sat around watched him carefully and with curiosity. Out
of his throat, his normally low-toned voice started to sing...

"Through the..." At here, many of the men and women opened their mouths in
shock. Wyltte barely spoke to them, let along sang while he worked. He
glanced around at them All sternfully for a moment before saying "Come now,
I know you All know this song. Get your arses to work!"
. At this, the
entire camp joined Wyltte in the old Verminasian hymn. Each man and woman
built confidence in their work as they sang along, their voices echoing
through the air and filling the camp with something they had lost. Spirit.

Wyltte led in that timeless song, Forge Ahead.

"Through the fires of Hell we toil"
"Through the cold and through the snow"
"Through the blazing noonday sun"
"Into the midnight we will go"

"Through the pain that we All endure"
"For the Prophecy that we will bring"
"We lift our voices in song"}x
"And for the Master we will sing"

"Forge ahead Verminasia, Forge ahead with All your might."
"Forge ahead Verminasia, We will see the end of light"

"Our men are stout as oak trees"
"Ferocious as a bear"
"Our women strong and deadly"
"No one in the world as fair"

"With each other at our sword arms"
"We will bring to them the fight"
"Our spirits strong, our hearts are full"
"As we bring forever night"

"Forge ahead Verminasia, Our might the world to see"
"Forge ahead Verminasia, onward to victory!"




Writer: Shilo

Date Tue Jun 18 09:12:26 2019

To All gray_church Tief ( IMM RP Taliena )

Subject A Garden Worth Tending



Kneeling within the garden of her matron, the ariel began to work and
toil amongst the plants. The garden was self sustaining, of course; her
attentions served only herself, and the small handful of struggling
plants she worked with. There was an undeniable satisfaction in such
service, one in which Shilo freely indulged. The weight and cares of
the wider world were put on hold as her hands worked amongst the
blooms, pruning and treating the more sickly of the flower beds.

The garden was only a stone's throw north of Arkane; and yet the design
was such that she scarecly saw the traffic of the northern road; barely
heard the passing of those who sought to banish the spirits of the
funeral home nearby. The garden was ignored, and it was this isolation
that the ariel returned for, day after day.

The world had been shocked with unimaginable violence and abhorrant
travesties - which, for Algoron, was saying something. And yet, in this
little garden of Taliena's, everything stood still. The flowers grew
and prospered and died, to be replaced by more. A constant little oasis,
free from the tribulations of the world beyond. The worst that happened
here was the occasional, pesky ariel, trying nobly to help flowers that
didn't actually need her help.

Shilo's hands paused at their work, hovering above a malnourished lily.
A simple spell of nature's growth would see it flourishing again; clean
and pure. For a moment, her mind returned to other times, when another
had knelt alongside her in the garden, to toil and work pleasantly. A
soft smile touched her face, and she returned to her task.

In less than a week, of course, she would face a more daunting challenge
than a wilting plant. An open gathering to All at the gray church's
Icewall mission. An attempt to bring a serenity akin to this garden's
to the varied people of Algoron, if only for a few hours. No simple tea
party could cure the ills of the world; no pleasant gathering could act
as balm to the pain of lost gods and defiled innocence.

And yet...perhaps it would be a start.

A shadow fell across the ariel's back as she mused, blotting out the
pleasant warmth of the sun. Out of habit, Shilo froze, fighting the
urge to panic at the sudden interruption. Behind her, a voice echoed.

"Oh look, a garden. Oh look, a Shilo."

Instantly, her posture changed, her head tilting back to look upside
down at the sillouhetted figure. A smile broke across her face as she
turned towards her sudden companion, relaxing visibly.

"Hello, sir."

(OOC: Reminder! "PotLuck Tea Party" at the Gray Church Mission,
Saturday, at 2 PM System Time! Come RP and enjoy some stress-free,
politics-free (hopefully) socializing!)




Writer: Cieran

Date Wed Jun 19 14:11:33 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: Time for a New Lesson



Cieran slowly walked among the men in the camp, his eyes surveying the
scene before him as a smile played over his lips. The sounds of swords and
pikes clanging against metal rang out from every corner of the marsh. Brows
were drenched in sweat as the afternoon sun climbed into the sky, the
oppressive humidity almost unbearable. The Captain had done a good job in
Cieran's abscence, the men were much improved after the endless drilling.
Their steps were measured, footing sure before they attacked. They used the
terrain to their advantage, pushing their foes hard until they stumbled and
then they were on them.

Cieran paused his walk as he stopped next to the Captain, nodding his
approval to the man, "Well done, they know how to fight in the wilds.... ".
The Captain nodded, taking the praise in stride with a nod and smile. "Now
we have a much different task to show them. Round up All of your druids and
rangers, have them report to me.
" The Captain raised a brow in question,
"Sir? " Cieran turned away from the man as he set off, raising his voice to
call back over his shoulder, "Now they must learn to -defend- in the wilds".
A small tinge of dread ran up the Captain's back at the sight of the smile
on the Major's face before he turned fully away.




Writer: Cieran

Date Wed Jun 19 14:49:18 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: Lessons Learned the Hard Way



A thick fog surrounded the entire moonlit area around the small
detachment of men. Their grips on the their weapons tightening, knuckles
turning white as sudden cries of alarm could be heard coming from all
around, the yelps quickly silenced. The leader of the group took a few very
tentative steps forward, ordering his men to keep their heads up and eyes
open. Cieran watched intently from his perch high up in a nearby oak, his
body pressed tightly up against the trunk so as to leave no trace of a
silhouette. Patiently and without a sound he waited, the group of men
moving closer to the center of the ring of rangers lying in wait to ambush
them. As if the acute vision and detection spells were not enough, Cieran
and the rangers could hear every snapped twig and muttered curse. The
soldiers might as well have been glowing for All the good their hurried
"shhhhh's" did them. Losing his patience, Cieran closed his eyes for a
moment, the words of a spell falling silently from his lips before the trap
was sprung. Vines began to come alive and move deftly to ensare the feet
and sword arms of the soldiers, the rangers springing into action as blades
moved to cover bare throats and hover there. This fight was over before it
even began.

Cieran dropped without sound from his perch, shaking his head as he lifted a
hand, signaling the end of the exercise. "Silence!! You must learn to move
and communicate in silence. You must move as a group, not individuals! You
must pay attention to every sign, every out of place branch, every moving
shadow, every uneasy feeling. You must procces it All in a moment and learn
to decipher the threats!
" Cieran paced among the men, moving from one to
the other to meet their gaze indivually. "You must -feel- your way
through... You have to sense the eyes on you, the blades poised to strike.
" Cieran heaved a heavy sigh, realizing as he saw the slumped shoulders and
bowed heads the men were nearing a breaking point. "It is no easy task,
know that. Don't be overly down upon yourselves... Keep working at it, it
will come, I promise. However for now I think you All deserve a break and
some leisure time... Everyone come in, thats it for now. "

As the men slowly began to circle up and everyone headed for camp, Cieran
walked beside the Captain, "They need something to take their mind off of it
all for a bit.... Suggestions?
" The Captain glanced around at the men,
Cieran followed his gaze and noticed several shared knowing smiles. "Well
sir.... We have heard the Emperor let the troops in Gryphonne... Have some
boxing matches...
" Cieran chuckled and smirked a bit, looking out over his
troops "Fine, fine.... Set it up Captain. " Cieran smiled and shook his
head as a unified cheer went up from the soldiers.




Writer: Cieran

Date Wed Jun 19 15:37:43 2019

To All Althainia Cayenna

Subject Road to War: Lessons Learned the Hard Way II



Cieran stood by the makeshift ring, sipping from his flask as he watched
the matches. Cheering and guffawing like the rest of the soldiers, a good
time was being had by all. He had turned downed several challengers,
deciding to simply watch and let the men enjoy the break.

Match after match went by until a clear champion was becoming evident, a
mountain of a Sergeant with tree trunks for arms. With one final blow he
felled his latest opponent to a raucous round of applause and cheers. The
young Sergeant lifting his hands over his head in triumph before calling out
to Cieran, "No one left to fight sir.... C'mon, lets see what you got!! "
Cieran again quietly shook his head, this time to a round of playful enough
"boooo's". "C'mon sir... You dont want them All to think you're afraid!!
" Cieran chuckled and shook his head, "Nice try Sergeant. I am no boxer, I
am a fighter. You have one the day, enjoy it!
" Cieran turned back to the
men and his flask only to hear the Sergeant utter "Well seems like the
fighter is afraid of getting his arse kicked...
" A round of "ohhhhhh's"
made there way around the camp as Cieran turned and caught a pair of gloves
that were tossed his way, putting them on as he ducked into the ring, the
Sergeant smiling from ear to ear.

The fight went as Cieran expected, he landed almost as good as he got, but
in the end the Sergeant was starting to get the better of him. The larger
man's reach could only be countered with speed for so long before Cieran
tired. With a final jab and cross that almost cracked Cieran's jaw the
Major fell to a knee, holding up a hand to signal he was defeated. Cieran
conceded between breaths, "Well fought Sergeant, most impressive". As
Cieran stood slowly, the Sergeant turned to the crowd and began to yell and
joke with the men, "So much for the fighter!!! ". Cieran let out a sigh,
but began to move toward the rings exit in silence, smiling good naturedly.
"Perhaps we just found out why he isn't a General anymore boys!!! " The
laughter faded into nervous chuckles as those near the ring saw Cieran halt,
spit out a mouthfull of blood, and turn to face the Sergeant. "Take off the
gloves Segeant...
" The Sergeant laughed it off, shaking his head "I don't
think you want me to do that sir, I might kill ya without these!
" Cieran's
voice was calm and level in his response, "Take off the gloves. " The
Sergeant uneasily did as he was told and both men began to circle once more.
Without warning Cieran delivered a swift blow to the Sergeant's throat,
causing the man to cough violently. Cieran leaned in and followed up with a
devastaing elbow to the bridge of the Sergeant's nose, blood splattering out
across the ground. The Sergeant let loose with a dizzied haymaker that was
easily ducked and countered with a vicious headbutt by the Major. The
Sergeant's legs giving out beneath him he crashed to the ground in a
bloodied heap.

Cieran stood over the man for a moment before turning to the soldiers "A
fighter does what it takes to win... He uses whatever opputunity he is
given to survive!!! This is what I want each of you to become, a fighter!!!
Fight for your home.... But also fight to come home to it!!! A war has no
referee, no bell, no rules.... Remember that!!!
" Cieran turned back to
the man on the ground, "And Sergeant, remember to show your enemy respect
even if they don't show it to you
." Cieran reach out a hand to help the
Sergeant up and offered him a shoulder to lean on once he was standing, "And
be sure to show respect even in victory, understood?
" The Sergeant nodded
as best he could whilst holding his nose back. "Good.... Now come, let me
get you a whiskey
"




Writer: Zisuli

Date Thu Jun 20 22:07:46 2019




Writer: Wyltte

Date Sat Jun 22 08:54:12 2019

To All Necrucifer Religion RP Immortal

Subject Failture



Wyltte spent the next few days with repairs, the loose linen workshirt he
wore dirty and frayed at the ends. The labor was good for him, callous
forming on his hands from hammering pegs to lock in the fence posts.
Despite the cold, his forehead was always misted with sweat. He wiped a few
errant strands away from his eyes with the back of his hands. His hair had
started to get longer, just above his shoulders. It was more a uniformed
silver now, although bits of white, grey and black could also be seen. At
least he still had hair, thank the Dark Gods for that.

Across the camp, the sound of activity started to pick back up. Men and
women alike worked diligently at their duties and hauling in supplies that
were marked to go to the front. Wyltte stood back with his arms folded
across his chest as he watched them. No longer in the Deathwatch, his
primary responsibility was taking care of the King and Queen now. He did
not need to babysit them, they were more than capable of protecting
themselves if need be. He did make sure that whatever challenge they faced
and whatever threat lay ahead, that would become his focus. Right now, the
biggest threat they faced was uncertainity. How does one fight against
that, he wondered.

"Wyltte!" He heard call from across the camp. "Wyltte Kayen!" . Wyltte
turned to see a group of five or six men walk his direction. The swagger in
their step and the cockiness in their gaze made the hairs on Wyltte's neck
stand up.. Well, the fine ones at least. He does make it a point to
manscape a little. He loved bears, but didn't need to pretend to be one.
He got that out of his system awhile ago.

Then men approached Wyltte, and the head of the small grouping stood
forward. Large man, over 6' or so, thick red beard. Wyltte recognized him
instantly. It was one of the Northmen he contracted to help the
Verminasians settle in these parts when they first came ashore. A well-paid
sellsword.

"Wyltte Kayen, Son of No One" the man begins, chin jutting and haughtiness
in his voice. "What brings you back from the dead?"

Wyltte laughs to himself then answers the man. "Isaak Ivanson, son of...
Well, Ivan, I would take a stab at based on your last name. It would be
awkward to be named Ivanson, and be the bastard child of someone else. Like
myself back in my barbarian days. Gods, those were a blur"
he quips to
himself. Wyltte narrows his eyes and looks at the man a little closer.
"But you don't look anything like me. Besides, any child of mine would be
born with a much bigger brain, and most definitly bigger ba..."
. He felt
it coming. That sense again danger was close. Wyltte took a step back just
as the swing crossed his sightline. Isaak's balance was off now, and Wyltte
gave his shoulder a good hard shove, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Come to get prove your still a man to your friends, did we?" Wyltte asks
of Isaak, now getting to his feet angrily.

"You abandoned us! Fled at the first sign of struggle. Your honeyed words
inspired everyone, and then you decided it was too difficult, and ran!"

The man screams up at him. Another lunge at Wyltte while his friends egged
him on. Wyltte lifts his leg and kicks the man right in the stomach,
forcing him to double over. Wyltte's eyes light up in anger as he takes a
step forward.

"You who bare no burdens, whose only existence is predicated on the fact
that you were a drunken night mistake... You dare to tell me of my own
failures? As if I do not bear them on my very soul?
At this, Wyltte picks
the man up by his shirt collar and looks into his eyes. "I know where I
stand. I know what I've done, and I sure as hell don't need someone whose
own service can be bought with coin telling me my part"
.

The man started to look like he was going to yell at Wyltte again, but a
massive right hand struck him full on in the jaw as he slumped to the
ground.





Writer: Wyltte

Date Tue Jun 25 05:03:31 2019

To All Necrucifer Immortal Religion RP

Subject Words



Wyltte pulled the hood of his chainmail coif down, letting it rest
against the base of his neck while his hair fell down into his face. He was
tired, but it was that good tired that came with hard work and
accomplishment. But it was still tired. He slid down against the wooden
post of the creaky walkway. This was as good as place to rest as any. The
scream of gnomes could be heard far, far below him. If they didn't breed
like rabbits, perhaps this wouldn't have been a problem. But they did. If
there is anything a gnome liked, it's a good snogging.

Wyltte put the tip of his blade into the wood and flicked the hilt in a
counterclockwise motion, the fine point so sharp it didn't even start
drilling into the wood. Ashtiel made a perfect blade for him, and its
quality was uncomparable. He was appreciative of the people in his life,
and as he watches the blade spin on its perfect axis, the glints of light
reflecting off the blood-stained metal forced his mind into a state of deep
thought. Ashtiel was one of the many he thought of. Dedicated. Strong.

Hurt.

They All were. The King, the mountain of service given to the cloth. He
was unable to answer the people's questions as to why this happened to
Necrucifer's most loyal servants. And they were loyal. No loyalty like the
dedication of one who serves Him.

Jermichael and the Keep. Dedicated Knights who just wished to bring upon
the realization to the world of what they knew. Those who follow the heart
find that it will bleed. This wasn't a curse, just a truth.

Those of Evil feel deeper. They are able to feed their passion for life,
serve as they wish. There was no one with a neck on their throat forcing
them to behave a certain way. They ere free. And they were vilified for
it. Made to believe they were soulless, emotionless bastards.

People forget the time when Verminasia was the bastion of iniquity. When
Argg ran around with his harm of slave girls, and slavery was rampant. All
gone, as common sense prevailed. People signed themselves up for a new type
of slavery now, forced into submission to the Gods of Light who want to
control their passion and make them have to "obey the rules". Why? Is
Algoron not the place to explore every possibility? Why limit yourself.

And then there was his wife, Zisuli. Ever the dedicated Servant of
Darkness, and she was not even born into the Faith of the Master, although
she followed the teachings of the Darkness with more dedication than half
who were raised in the church of Necrucifer. If there was ever someone who
proved her worth to Him, it was she. Yet, she sat by and watched All of
them bear the weight of the words the world hurled against them.

Words that pierced their hearts with their misinformation and slander.
Words that tore at their own soul. Words were at the very heart of it all.
People wield them as blades for more sharp than any vorpal edge, and because
those of evil feel more deeply, they wound. And yet people wield them with
reckless abandon. Trash the intentions of those who just wanted to worship
in the only way they know how. With All they are.

At that moment is when it struck him. Words. Flowing around Wyltte was an
almost imperceivable shield of ancient words, their soft glow protecting his
skin as he recovered fromt he fighting. Words were... Well, without them,
most magics cannot be used. Those who are silent cannot conjure the power
of the Gods and Goddesses of magic. Those who cannot read cannot summon
magic from a page.

He knows. He tried to read a scroll once as a shaman, only to see the
letters dance about the parchment. He would never understand why someone as
learned as a shaman couldn't read, but he was past that now.

So much power is derived from words. So much so that if perhaps there was a
way to silence them at large, perhaps that wild magic, that Umbra of the
Master... May finally be louder...





Writer: Kaerick

Date Tue Jun 25 20:38:31 2019




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Wed Jun 26 07:12:08 2019

To Verminasia All ( Necrucifer Imm RP )

Subject The Red Queen


Waidinesh Village
Iolanthe Province

----------------------------------------

The midnight hour brought with it clouds of black that shrouded the moons,
dimming their combined light enough that none filtered through the dome of
dark leaded glass that crowned the Sanctum of Eeyr. The interior of the
ancient temple was thus dark save for the gloomy glow cast by a series of
beeswax candles that lined the aisle between the obsidian pews and the
pulpit from which the deformed priest observed his congregation.

Igrus lowered the dark hood of his robe as he finished his opening 'prayer',
letting the flicker of candlelight fully illuminate the heavily veined and
twisted features of his once human face. His calculating gaze of sickly
green swept over the crowd, noting the new faces amongst them with a smug
sense of satisfaction. The temple was packed. Not an empty seat remained
within the pews and his flock had grown enough since his last sermon that
the latest arrivals were forced to take a place in the darkness that
gathered along the edges of the room.

He let his gaze stop to linger on a few of them and let the heavy silence
weigh upon them before he allowed the contempt he felt for them to show,
just enough, upon his features to be censuring without offending their
fragile egos. 'You are weak. All of you. Herding together even now.
Dependent upon one another for survival. Each of you cling to the ways of
old when All that has ever afforded you is struggle and chains. You were
slaves to a Master you served without question. The foolishness of your
sacrifice has been revealed. The farce of Necrucifer's faith and the rule
of your Gods has proven to be nothing more than trickery. Their promised
reward shown to be no more than a ruse to keep you in your place as their
ever complacent chattel.
' His withered hands animated his words, their
motion setting the candle light to dance frenetically across the pulpit
before him.

'The Dark Pantheon is headless. ' A cold glance over his shoulder towards
the desecrated statue of Necrucifer drew a sneer to his thin lips and Igrus
allowed his audience the time to follow his gaze, to view the headless
statue of the God their ancestors had constructed this temple to serve.
'Your faith is lost to you. What choice will follow? Will you sell your
damned souls to the next who would use your service for their own ends or
will you choose to shrug off the mantel of slavery and claim control of your
fate?
'

The rumble of thunder drew the priest's attention from the statue to the
dome overhead in anticipation of the flash of lightning but it was not
forthcoming. Upon turning back to those gathered, he found them All to be
staring at him, riveted with the wide-eyed fear of prey. A befitting look
for sheep.

Igrus spread his hands wide as he implored them, 'Decry your divine owners!
Rise up and claim ... Ugnh.
'

The blade that appeared between the blasphemer's parted lips protruded a
good six inches and his blood flowed down the length of gilded metal to pool
in the center of the obsidian pulpit. A number of his teeth, dislodged by
the blade, floated within. The priest let out a sickening gurgle, blinking
once as his last breath rattled around the metal and a fresh spurt of blood
poured over his bottom lip to drench his chin and the front of his robe.
The gasp of the crowd died with him.

The sword pulled free slowly, the wet sound of it's release the only thing
audible in the room as Igrus slumped forward. The menace on Ashtiel's face
as she flicked the blood from her blade and looked over them held the crowd
still within their seats for several moments. The inherent threat present
in her aspect as she circled the pulpit gave them good reason for pause.
Ashtiel toppled a candle intentionally with her free hand as she moved. The
priest's robes caught flame as the Queen advanced upon the congregation.

----------------------------------------




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Wed Jun 26 08:16:42 2019

To Verminasia All ( Necrucifer Imm RP )

Subject The Red Queen - Part 2


----------------------------------------

The wails of the dying filled the temple with a discordant chorus of
screams. Those who tried to flee found their path to the heavy iron doors
blocked by the members of the Verminasian Crownguard who had infiltrated
this gathering under the guise of peasants. Only a few of the villagers had
brought any form of weapons and even those armed amongst them were no match
for the well-trained guard.

The Verminasian Queen and her guard cut through them quickly. Some fifty
were left dead by the time they reached the exit. Two guards opened the
door with a metallic screech as Ashtiel approached.

Outside the temple, the soldiers of the Verminasian Deathwatch had been
busy. Every man, woman and child within the village who had not taken part
in the Warpling priest's gathering had been gathered together within the
temple's courtyard. The soldiers circled the entire perimeter of the
temple. All waited for their Queen.

As Ashtiel appeared, her solemn face streaked with a mash of fresh blood, a
cheer ran through the soldiers of the watch. Weapons of royal make lifted
in unison to give a respectful salute. She tipped her head respectfully and
raised a hand for silence, her mismatched gaze hard as it turned on the
villagers huddled together fearfully before her.

'Who amongst you is Idarin? ' Ashtiel could not keep the anger from her
voice as she spoke. The rage still seethed within her at the sacrilege
these people had ignored or taken part in.

'Is me, yer grace. ' A lanky, weathered man seperated himself from the
crowd even as they dispersed to either side in attempt to avoid suffering
their Queen's wrath with him.

He removed the frayed hat from his head as he moved forward to kneel in
front of her. 'Am yer 'umble servant, yer grace. '

'You are the ONLY member of this village to have spoken up against the
heresy that has been allowed to fester here.
' Ashtiel studied the man who
dared not even look up at her for a heavy moment before continuing, 'In
reward, you may take your family and leave. I suggest you go now. Unless
you wish the pleasure of seeing what comes next.
'

'Thank ye, yer grace! ' The man looked up at her, genuinely surprised to be
spared her wrath and grateful for the reprieve. He scrambled away from her
before she could change her mind. Her mismatched gaze followed him as he
collected his portly wife and a scrawny boy that looked quite a bit like him
from the crowd before the three of them rushed off. The sound of their
footfalls retreating echoed through the courtyard well after the three
disappeared from sight.

The Queen studied the remainder of them as she waited patiently for Idarin
and his family to depart. Their fearful faces were bathed in inconstant
moonlight.

'And the rest? ' The guard beside her shifted restlessly and gave the crowd
an indifferent glance as he voiced his question.

'They will die for allowing this trespass and burn with the others. See to
it.
' With a nod to seal her command, Ashtiel turned from them, heading
along the temple path to survey the village beyond. The soldiers of the
death watch set into the crowd as soon as their Queen and her guard were
clear of the courtyard. The fresh chorus of tortured screams brought a
faint smile to Ashtiel's bloodstained face and she took a moment to relish
the sound before beckoning her Advisor forward to join her as she walked.

'Atennim. I assume you've still got the list of the parents and children
who have volunteered their own in sacrifice should the demon returned?
'

'I do, Your Majesty. ' He nodded at her, his expression as blank and
unreadable as ever.

'I trust you will see the families relocated to Waidenesh. It appears large
enough to accomodate them and I would think it best to have them close and
reachable should the need arise.
'

----------------------------------------




Writer: Cieran

Date Wed Jun 26 08:35:30 2019



 


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