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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"

Euterah
Xiaos
Gabriela
Raziel
Verdemar
Verdemar
Mahazi
Maccus
Maccus
Maccus
Telthian
Velok
Mahazi
Velok
Xentessa
Xentessa
Xentessa
Catroina
Xas
Ayrora
Cieran
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Ayrora
Ayrora
Ruwen
Ruwen
Ruwen
Ruwen
Ronilas
Ronilas
Barakiel
Nostarion
Nostarion
Nostarion
Rasavadi
Riordan
Dargonost
Cieran
Cieran
Lae'nyr
Iocaste
Iocaste
Iocaste
Damerus
Damerus
Damerus
Lae'nyr
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Zola
Jossaryne
Arreana
Zola
Sabien
Sabien
Nathaniel
Tatsuo
Tatsuo
Vyasa
Verdemar
Ayrora
Rasavadi
Euterah
Ashtiel
Xiaos
Nymaya
Nuuf
Rasavadi
Sarynzalayth
Mercerion
Mercerion
Mercerion
Rumptin
Aliera
Riordan
Rasavadi
Xiaos
Euterah
Xiaos
Symantha
Thrakhath
Madison
Madison
Madison
Nehtur
Jossaryne
Vyasa
Ikkara
Maccus
Telthian
Rasavadi
Jossaryne
Ithelim
Jermichael
Jermichael
Symantha
Elathan
Carleigh
Maccus
Maccus
Jossaryne
Carleigh
Jossaryne
Maccus
Ithelim
Mezlak
Maccus
Cesaus
Reklah
Kabal
Maccus
Cesaus
Lilya
Maccus
Waaagh
XiaXia
Lilya
Ayrora
Lilya
Lilya





Writer: Euterah
Date Tue Oct 3 21:12:48 2017

To Darkonin All ( Imm )

Subject The Cat



I want to be called Spark now. No. Strike. Mmm, Spitz. The Cat
thought as It licked across Its black back. Who wants to be Slack. It
stretched. I am nothing slack. I am Spark. I am Strike. I am Spitz. I
am invention and ingenious and parkour. I have every right to do as I
please and the Her that Witch.

Here the Cat paused, ears twitching back as It moved to Its feet in one sly
motion, slinking into a deeper shadow. Satisfied It was not being tracked
the Cat resumed grooming. Slack, what a slothful name, Cat was anything
but.

But.

Yet.

The Witch.

Something would have to be done to make this time with her more palpable.
What would a Dragon do?




Writer: Xiaos
Date Tue Oct 3 22:24:32 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (VII)


Iizohr pondered that last statement for a moment while looking over the
parchments before him. He had taken a lot of notes up until this point, but
there was more he wanted to know. It wasn't every day he had an opportunity
to interview one like this.

"When did you decide to take up the path of the guardian?" Iizohr finally
asked.

Xiaos smiled briefly. He had been waiting for this question from the very
beginning. "It actually wasss a very hard decisssion. He had grown
accussstomed to hisss new way of life. The power afforded to him by the
Missstresss wasss tremendousss. He had a place to finally call home, and
hisss life had purpossse," Xiaos said resolutely.

"Many would not be willing to give up All of that," Iizohr replied.

Xiaos nodded slowly. "For a time it never crosssed hisss mind. Life wasss
good. But after awhile, thessse thoughtsss ssstarting creeping into hisss
mind. At firssst they were sssporadic. He mossstly disssregarded them asss
simple nossstalgia. But then they grew in frequency. Eventually, thessse
thoughtsss overtook hisss entire conciousssnesss," Xiaos said.

Iizohr needed more specifics. "What specifically were these thoughts, if he
might ask?" Iizohr questioned.

Xiaos answered without hesitation. "Mainly, he thought on the teachingsss
of the Mistresss. Ssseek power where it can be found, and claim it for
yourssself. Be in a conssstant ssstate of improvement, and you ssshall
pleassse Her. Take what you want. In Her Grace All ssshall be in your
meanssss to possess. The only obstacle is yourssself. Jussst to name a
few," he said.

Iizohr looked at Xiaos with a slight look of confusion on his face. It was
clear that he didn't understand the correlation of these tenets to Xiaos'
situation, so the bakali indulged him. "Ultimately, he felt like he had
reached a certain plateau wielding the dark magicksss. The power wasss
great, yesss, but he yearned for more. Ssso much more. And though he had
worked very hard to get to where he wasss, and he knew he would have to give
it All up, the answer wasss very sssimple. To reach new heightsss of power
he mussst assscend," Xiaos declared.

"I am not familiar with how Guardianship works," Iizohr admitted.

"No one really doessss. It isss not sssomething that isss attempted often,
and even lesss are successsful. Once hisss mind wasss made up, he made
hisss intent known to the Council of the Conclave, and they gave him their
blesssing to begin the processs. And here we are," Xiaos said with a slight
smile on his face.

"So what's next?" Iizohr inquired.

"Whatever it takes," Xiaos said decisively.




Writer: Gabriela

Date Wed Oct 4 18:37:38 2017

To Shalonesti Juelian All Rp

Subject A Change of Seasons



The hum of elven activity filled the air, disrupting the natural sounds
that typically coveted this time of night and with a brief sweep of her
surroundings, she recognized that she was not entirely alone, though not yet
noticed with only moments before that changed. A swift swipe of her eyes
erased any moisture that lingered on her dark lashes and the drawn in deep
and cleansing breath in through her nose and out through her mouth - brought
her back into focus and re-composed, the ramrod finding its way back into
her spine as she straightened to her full height.

It was one from the Kyorl who was the first to catch sight of her as she
made her way forward, bestowing a respectful bow upon her that still allowed
his keen eyes to look past and roam for any hidden danger as he reached for
and opened the nearby door with practiced efficiency. "Gabrielaeyrn. "
With a gifted smile, she passed through the yawning entrance without
hesitation, her head held high with her regal crown of long silver locks
cascading down the length of her back, shimmering beneath the fire and
moonlight before the door closed shut behind her.

Making her way to the great hall found more than her typical family of elves
gathered, a steady hum of bustling activity radiated All around her as each
went about their own tasks and preparations with purposeful efficiency.
Rabrae was right, visitors had certainly arrived and from the looks of it,
they stood at the heart of the halls lively busyness just as certainly as
they stood in the middle of the room itself. Two pair of eyes shifted at
her entrance to look upon her with their full attention, the tall,
silver-haired elf closest to her showcasing a deep, blue pair filled with
checked curiosity though it was the pair standing on the far side of him
that stole her breath away, catching deep in her throat as her stormy gray
eyes meshed with vivid green ones, eyes that pierced through her soul yet
held a gentle patience that she knew with loving adoration. In mere
moments, the years fell away and she was a young child once more, learned
patience and guarded emotion evaporating into a carefree spirit that was
oblivious to All but the man before her. She rushed forward without
hesitation, her voice projecting one singular emotion as she threw herself
into a pair of waiting arms, finding a comfort in their circling embrace
that she could find with no other. "Papa! "

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

Feeling the tug at her heartstrings, her head turned for one last time to
cast a steady gaze around as she made a thorough scan of her surroundings,
the assessment not so much as to ensure nothing had been missed in their
packing but to commit every nook, every color, every evoked feeling to
memory so it would not fade with time and distance. It would All be missed
but even more would be her gladed sanctuary that never passed judgment, her
best friend, Rabrae who was her confidant and oftentimes, especially in
their younger years, her partner in crime and of course, her teacher, mentor
and one of the two woman who shaped her, her great-grandmother that had been
her lode stone and the voice that echoed in her head...

Feeling the soft squeeze of her mothers hand as it circled hers, she
swallowed against the lump of emotion within her throat and choked it back,
finding strength from her mothers silent support as Gabriela knew that she
was feeling every emotion as keenly as her daughter. The soft touch of a
loving palm came to rest upon the crown of her head, the gentle stroke meant
to be as soothing as the softly spoken words that followed. "Gather your
satchel, Gabriela, it is time for us to go home."




Writer: Raziel

Date Thu Oct 5 10:55:55 2017




Writer: Verdemar

Date Sun Oct 8 11:35:09 2017

To All Shadow ( Imm Necrucifer )

Subject The Stirring, pt 1



There was a stirring.

Something called to him from beyond the pale, an immense weight settled atop
his chest.

It woke him from a long slumber, pressure mounting on his lungs until it
felt like he might never breathe again.

Eyes open, he could see but not move, and dark shapes filtered hazily into
view, their figures All smoke without substance.

Panic gnawed at his heart as the pressure mounted, and in the doorway he saw
a small figure, hunched against the doorway, its head impossibly twisted in
against its own chest. A dark laughter filled the room, somewhere between a
wheeze and a cackle, as though the stunted beast's lungs were punctured and
what air escaped its mouth came at the cost of wasted oxygen.

The man sought to struggle, his shoulders tensing, muscles gained from long
hours training for combat cording and bunching. The creature sauntered
closer, its legs rising inconceivably high before it dropped to its knuckles
in an odd display of creeping fear.

The words rang in his ears; his own words. He could hear them in the voice
he had spoken them in so long ago, standing with unnecessary pride before an
altar of black, polished marble, naked as the day he was born.

"Submit or die. "

Papers on the desk by his bedside began to flip, stirred by a wind that
picked up from nowhere, and the sinister being creeping towards him laughed
again, its voice a cacophony of fear and power.

It no longer walked towards him, and the reason for the pressure in his
chest was made clear. Saliva dropped to the man's cheek as he stared
wide-eyed up into the face of a creature engineered to strike dismay into
whomever it encountered. Straddling his chest, the beast licked its lips, a
too-black tongue slithering across lips long-ago cracked past the point of
bleeding. Its maw was hopelessly devoid of colour, save the sickly green of
its teeth, rotted and broken, fuzzy with mould. Fetid breath washed over
the man's face, smelling of the sort of damp places your mother warned you
not to enter as a child.

The words came again, carried on the same winds rifling through his papers,
washing away the stench of the beast's breath and tugging at his heart.
Louder, resonating within his head like a gong struck too hard.

"Submit or die. "

He found himself gripped still in fear eyes taking in the yellowed claws of
the disgusting little thing sitting atop him, its pus-spewing wounds too
numerous to count, the cavities lining its chest letting him see through to
the darkest reaches of its organs, which were placed in ways doctors would
describe as not medically possible. The twisted nature of its jagged,
broken ribs glittered in the candlelight.

It leaned in closer, bringing its face closer to his as breathing in deeply.
He watched its lungs inflate near to bursting within its chest, and it
sighed in contented pleasure, as if feeding on the fear and dismay in the
newly woken man's psyche.

There was a crashing sound, somewhere in the distance, then another. They
grew in volume, as though something was coming closer. The thing upon his
chest began to open its mouth, stretching its jaws to the point of breaking
before him, wider and wider still.

His door blew open with a ferocity unrivalled by anything the man had seen
thus far, and the winds were raging around him. Strands of his hair blew
this way and that, and the papers by his bedside were strewn across the
room. The voice, his voice, was there again, booming within his mind at a
volume that refused to be ignored. He felt it in every bone of his body, an
imperative he had heard only once before, demanding he explain his worth to
the cause. His ears bled from the power contained within.






Writer: Verdemar

Date Sun Oct 8 11:36:02 2017

To All Shadow ( Imm Necrucifer )

Subject The Stirring, pt 2



"SUBMIT OR DIE. "

And Verdemar did. Once taut muscles fell still, his eyes ceasing their
wide, fearful roving. The monster sitting astride his chest leaned closer
and ate him head first, its jaw distended long past the point of
dislocation. Its soft, largely molded teeth had more power to them than he
had imagined, and as he disappeared into the maw of this creature, he felt
them tearing at his flesh, fresh strips of powerful meat ripped from the
bone as though flayed. Darkness before him, and darkness behind.

There was a stirring. Verdemar woke with a start, covered in a damp sweat.
His door stood wide open, and in the hallway outside, a single sheet of
paper hung, suspended from the wall by a bone-hilted dagger he had been
given long ago. The words were freshly written, their red dripping still, a
viscous liquid he had no problems guessing the origins of.

"You are needed. "

It was time to return to the Keep.




Writer: Mahazi

Date Mon Oct 9 19:26:53 2017

To Catroina Abaddon All RP

Subject Volunteer (Part 1)



Walking down to the jail, Mahazi takes the list of prisoners from the
head guard. The list containing names and their crimes was just what he
needed for the task the Highlord gave him. Find prisoners to send to
Abaddon for a ceremony. Easy enough. It seems the increased patrols by the
guards are cutting down on prisoners. The threat of the shades has helped
with that at least.

Sitting at a guards desk, Mahazi started to scan the list for crimes.
Knowing that the volunteers more than likely would not be coming back, he
looks for crimes that deserve the death penalty. The Silversorrow brothers,
they will be perfect. He said to himself. Remembering when he took ten
guards with him to apprehend them, a slight smile forms on his face. Going
back to the list, he wanted to get it done so he could join the Purgatory
Keep raid. Aye, ten prisoners should be enough. After returning the
original list to the head guard on duty, Mahazi searches out the Highlord to
get his approval of the chosen prisoners.




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Oct 10 00:35:42 2017

To Marauders Abaddon Mahazi All RP

Subject Interrogation of the seven



Walking up to the guards he flashes a piece of paper to them. With a
huff the guard on duty examines the paper before turning back to the other
with a nod. The guards unlock the door leading into the prison and the
Private walks through without hesitation, All the a grin that looks half
mischevious, half evil stays firmly planted on his face. He marches along
the corridor silently, watching the cells with a careful eye before looking
back down to the list. In a flash he's at the first cell, the Marauder
Guard on duty studies him with a careful eye before a quiet question is
asked. The Marauder Guard simply points at the man in the first cell and
unlocks the door.

The Private steps through and nods and the guard closes and locks the door.
The Private asks in a calm voice, 'Do you know why I'm here? '. The man
nods up and down quickly, looking up at the Private with a careful yet
cautious eyes. The Private asks, 'Is your name Kramnam Dirgeriver? '. The
man nods quickly, looking as if he was about to cry. The Private continues,
'You are obviosuly a male, I don't believe I'll need to strip you to see
that. ' The man falls down to his knees and looks up the the ceiling in an
attempt to say a prayer. The Private cuts him off by saying, 'Now, you'll
have several options, and depending on which options you choose things will
either be easier for you, or harder. Now, nod once if you understand. '.
The man nods once quickly before looking back down at the Private.
'Firstly, I want you to tell me if you're scared, then I would like to know
the city you were born in. '

In a weepy tone Kramnam says, 'Of course sir, I am afraid, I am in these
cells away from my hom... '. With a quick hand the Private slaps the man
across the face with his backhand, grinning the whole time. The man shrieks
at the sudden pain, falling forward attempting to clutch his face. The
Private grabs the back of his head and yanks it upwards, the grin looking
evil and menacing.

'One should face their fears directly. Now WHERE WERE YOU BORN! '. The
Privates demeanor changing quickly, going from calm to menacing in an
instant.

The man begins sobbing at the sudden aggression from the Private and chokes
out, 'New... Thalos... I'm from New Thalos. '. The Private lets go of
the mans hair and smirks turning around quickly motioning to the Guard to
let him go through. Moving quickly he approaches the second cell, a much
younger looking man rests inside. Without motioning the Guard quickly
unlocks the cell and allows the Private to walk through. The Private
studies the young man and paces back and forth. The young man looks up and
spits at the Private.

'You'll burn one of these days, Marauder! ' He tries to spit at the Private
again but is met with a resounding fist to the nose. The cartilage in his
nose cracking under the weight of the punch. The Private grabs the man by
his neck and brings his head up, his eyes, like daggers.

'One that meets his fear directly, it seems. ' The Private throws the man
onto the ground and steps over to him quickly, placing his boot on the mans
hip he begins to step down. 'You seem to have thought I was some sort of...
Pushover due to the covnersation with the last man. '. The Private steps
down with All his weight pushing the man down and flat on his back. He
continues, 'Guard, fetch me a cleric, this one may need healing if he isn't
careful. '. The young man groans his hands presses to his nose attempting
to stop the bleeding. 'Now, I'll assume your name is Chappell Dryden, now
seeing as you've already proven that you'd face your fears up front, tell me
where you're from. '




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Oct 10 00:42:46 2017

To Marauders Abaddon Mahazi All RP

Subject Interrogation of the seven pt.2



The young man groans his hands presses to his nose attempting to stop the
bleeding. 'Now, I'll assume your name is Chappell Dryden, now seeing as
you've already proven that you'd face your fears up front, tell me where
you're from. '

'Wouldn't you like to know, blasted Marauder! ' Chappell grimmaces as he
anticipates another blow. The Private kneels down and grabs him by his
tunic, lifting him up and slamming him back down on the ground hard.

'Where were you born. ' The Private repeats the phrase lifting Chappell up
off the ground again, blood from his nose falling faster off his face and
onto the ground.

'Filthy Marauder scum! '. He shrieks again before being slammed back onto
the ground. The Private drags him off the floor and up onto the wall
staring at him, his eyes locked onto Chappells.

Last time before this gets mean. Where were you born. '.

'Stop, stop, I was born in Arkane, please just stop. '. The Private
grimaces and punches him in the gut once, letting the man drop to his knees
and fall over into a bloody mess. The Private quickly reaches the front of
the cell, being let through quickly. The Private approaches the next cell
looking down at his list and looks into the cell, an elven man who looks
young to the Private but is unable to determine his exact age. He continues
down to the next cell and looks in, another elven man, looking similar to
the first.

'Family. '. The Private grumbles and looks at the brothers one more time
before deciding to pick what appeared to be the younger of the pair. The
guard quickly unlocks the cell on the opposite edge of them and goes in.
'You, whats the relation between you and the elf In the next cell. '

In a voice that rings like a bell, 'That is my brother, why do you ask,
Human. '

'Simply to avoid making your brother hurt more than I'll make you if you
don't answer my questions. '.

'If you want to know if I feel fear, then no, I do not. '

'Then you should know the next question at least, and what will happen if
you're answer wont suffice. '.

'I see. My Brother and I are both from the Shokono Kingdom, will that
suffice for your questions for the both of us? ' The Private grunts in
response and heads towards the exit. 'Wait, Marauder do you know what is to
be done with us? '

'No, I do not. I'm following orders, now shut up or take a beating. '. He
leaves the cell with quick feet, passing by the next cell, the brother
looking down and looking back up. 'Now, clarify something for me, Elf. You
are which of the brothers? '.

His voice slightly deeper, but with the same pearlesant ring, 'I am the
older brother, Lodaras Silversorrow. The one in the cell next to me is
Yataeth. I can confirm that we are both from Shokono Kingdom. ' The
Private nods, jotting down the infromation he learned on a seperate sheet of
paper. Continuing on to the next cell he sees a small figure, hunched into
a corner looking rather repulsed.

The Private shouts, 'OI, YOU THERE, GET UP. I know you've been listening.
Give me your name and your place of birth and we can both go on our ways. '




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Oct 10 00:46:54 2017

To Marauders Abaddon Mahazi All RP

Subject Interrogation of the seven pt. 3 (finale)



The gnome jumps up and quickly shouts in a smooth voice, 'I'm innocent,
I'm tellin ya, names Talkiarn Tosslesprocket, from Gahboom Hill, pleas e ya
gotta let me out of here! '. The Private jots down the information once
again before walking away from the cell. Talkiarn shouts, 'Please mister,
you gotta believe me, I really gotta get out of here! '. The guard knocks
him off the cell door with a quick flash of his blade before noding to the
Private. The Private looked on to see only two guards left infront of
cells, but something was different about them. Each cell was over three
times as big as the last. He continued down and looked into each cell
seeing a Centaur and a Yinn in each. The Private stops for a moment,
thinking about his next course of action.

He shouts at the two cells, 'Now, you both are much bigger than the previous
people I've questioned. Lets make this easy on ourselves and finish this
quickly. '. He continues on but more to the direction of the Yinn, 'I know
your race is proud, but please answer the question quickly. '

The Centaur woman jumps in quickly, 'Althainia, please just leave me alone!
'.

The Yinn growls shaking its big head before saying, 'Icewall... '.

The Private nods jotting the infromation down, 'Now, please tell me your
names, I would like to verify that as well please. '.

The Yinn growling once more, 'Seong-Jie BranMir'.

The centaur woman, in a sad tone, 'Didionk Springstrop. '

The Private looks down at the list given to him and nods stating, 'Now, pray
to your gods for forgiveness and attonement for your crimes. '. He begins
walking towards the exit, blood covering his fists. Some of the prisoners
begin sobbing, others remain staring at the ceilng, uncertain of their fate.




Writer: Telthian
Date Tue Oct 10 21:35:29 2017

To All Verminasia immortal Tashio Cayenna Ampersand Storyline Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Prologue III - Offerings


--*--

They followed Etehnu's howl across the tundra until they reached an old
road, uneven and crumbling from the quakes that shifted and rearranged the
terrain many years ago. Ahead, what remained of several structures jutted
up from the drifts, like the ribs of some carcass. Several were toppled to
all but a few feet above the foundations, appearing like little more than a
stone wall set with a window. Their positioning was precise, giving the
impression of a planned settlement. As they approached, beneath the snow
and rubble, the ruins began to resemble what may have been homes or
storefronts and a modest town square.

Steeling themselves against the biting cold, the skald and priest passed
beneath a crumbling arch and down what remained of an alley. The massive
dire wolf trotted into view, frost clinging to Etehnu's coat as he
approached the elf. The dire wolf lowered his head, his jaws releasing his
newly found prize to fall to the snow before Ashtiel. The limb was large, a
heavy pauldron of castle-forged steel still clung defiantly to the upper
shoulder, and the dark fur was slick with a mix of frozen blood and the dire
wolf's saliva.

Ashtiel and Telthian shared a momentary glance before the elf swept her
gloved hand across the broad snout of her childhood companion in a gesture
of praise.

'Show us, Etehnu. '

No further instruction was needed and the massive wolf turned to break into
a trot, hind paws stepping precisely in the tracks left by his forelegs as
he led a path through the ruins.

To call it a grave would have been generous. The bodies were not so much as
buried but arranged. The remains of several dismembered yinn littered the
courtyard of a crumbling manor, framed in by the low stone walls. Beside
them Ethenu froze, hackles raised as Ashtiel and Telthian looked upon the
wolf's find. Limbs, entrails, vertebrae, and skulls of the fallen yinn were
arranged in geometric shapes so extensive that a single step threatened to
disturb it.

At its center sat the caretaker of the effigy, a hunched figure with
elongated, misshapen limbs covered in a mixture of frozen blood, filth, and
matted fur. The remains of a chainmail hauberk clung to the twisted yinn,
the links rattling as the ghul shifted and turned its deformed visage toward
the intruders. Contorting its body, the yinn scuttled towards them on all
fours with malicious intent.

Waves of ethereal frost preceded its advance, the already frigid temperature
dropping rapidly as the ghul slashed at Ashtiel with its elongated,
claw-like hand. Her reflexes took over, hardened by the fires of battle,
nimbly twisting out of harms way. In a balletic motion, Ashtiel whipped her
sword from its scabbard and delivered a lethal counter-riposte to the yinn's
throat, rending soiled chain and blighted flesh.

Black, coagulated ichor spilled forth in thick cascades, washing over the
ruined hauberk. For the living, mortality would have been clarified in that
single decisive strike. But the grotesque abomination lurched forward,
unflinching, uncaring. Ashtiel pivoted, her boots scraping the stone of the
courtyard as she danced backward from the yinn to cast a sidelong glance at
the dark priest.

--*--




Writer: Velok

Date Wed Oct 11 17:31:34 2017




Writer: Mahazi

Date Thu Oct 12 12:25:16 2017

To Catoina All RP IMM

Subject Prisoner Transfer (Part 2)



Sitting at the bar in the Dominion, speaking with his father, the
Highlord Mezlak, Commander Mahazi received word that the drop off was going
to be pushed up. "Tonight then, I will be taking the prisoners to Tropica.
The Eidolon will meet me at the docks at dusk." He said the Mezlak. The
Highlord agreed to accompany Mahazi, maybe to spend time with his son, maybe
to watch how he conducted business, one can not be too sure.

Finishing his drink, Mahazi found the nearest guard and ordered him to get
the prisoners ready for transport. "Gather the prisoners, and get the honor
guard ready as well. We leave for Tropica, and the Highlord is coming with
us." With the order, the guard saluted and set off at a run. The guards
know what to do, chain them together in a line, and get the m to the docks.
Time is not on our side. Mahazi worried about the extra guards that were
going to be joining, not wanting to leave the Fort short handed in case an
attack came from the Shades. But protecting the Highlord is just as
important.

The Cutlass, is to be used for the transportation. A crew worth their
weight in gold, Mahazi was not concerned for the trip. The skies are clear,
winds just right for sailing. Even though he has only been on a ship twice,
once with his now deceased mother, Mahazi was calm, ready. The guards
appeared shortly after, dragging the prisoners behind them. Some of the
prisoners in worse shape than the others from the interrogation Private
Maccus put them through. As long as none die before their time, Mahazi did
not care.

After the guards finished securing the prisoners, it was time to go.
Looking to Mezlak, Mahazi gave the order to the crew. The crew set out,
impatient to get to Tropica.




Writer: Velok

Date Fri Oct 13 12:13:58 2017




Writer: Xentessa
Date Fri Oct 13 13:28:27 2017




Writer: Xentessa
Date Fri Oct 13 13:59:20 2017




Writer: Xentessa
Date Fri Oct 13 14:08:14 2017




Writer: Catroina
Date Fri Oct 13 17:11:49 2017




Writer: Xas
Date Sat Oct 14 06:05:42 2017




Writer: Ayrora
Date Sun Oct 15 12:54:01 2017

To All Verminasia Roleplay Storyline Immortal

Subject It's Morning



The chill in the air at sunrise made Ayrora pull her shawl tightly about
her as she stepped out onto the balcony. She took a deep breath and let it
out slowly as she listened to the musical sounds of the birds on the morning
mission. She looked over the orchards as a soft smile graced her lips, she
shivered slightly pulling the shawl even closer.

She had come so far in the few years as a guild leader, a steward, a
respected citizen of Verminasia. As she stood watching the sunrisee she
realized she was not the same person she was the day she arrived to
Verminasia that she had changed very much and, hopefully, for the better.

Ayrora looked down at the people starting to stir below her, another day has
begun. She turned and walked back into her bedroom and closed the door
behind her.





Writer: Cieran
Date Tue Oct 17 10:16:35 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:53:03 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:53:31 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:54:30 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:56:26 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:58:24 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 17:00:09 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 17:02:46 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 17:03:20 2017




Writer: Ayrora
Date Tue Oct 17 20:39:40 2017

To All Verminasia Immortal Storyline Roleplay

Subject Late Night Escape (Part 1 of 2)



It was two in the morning as Ayrora snuck quietly down the spiral
staircase, keeping an eye out for any guards wandering about the manor. All
seemed quiet so she continued to the bottom of the steps. She looked up and
down the parlor hallway and made her way to the door. The only light
shining in the dark was a dim porch light and once she passed it no one
would see her leave. She was tired of having the constant guards following
her everywhere she went. She silently opened the door and made her way out,
closing the door behind her and slipped away. So far her plan was working.



If she entered the barn on the usual side Braedan would surely wake everyone
up so she decided to take her newly acquired black mare Midnight. She
quietly gathered the tack she needed and went quickly to her stall saddling
her and putting the bitless bridle on. She slowly led her out and both
walked quietly into the darkness.

They walked about twenty feet from the barn before hopping into the saddle
and she road another twenty feet before opening her to a gallop. They had
made it out with no guards around to bother her on her ride. She rode down
to her favorite spot by the water and dismounted. She enjoyed riding
Midnight but she has yet to learn everything that Braedan knows about her.
It is as if Braedan can read her completely but Midnight will learn in time.



Ayrora pulled an apple from a tree near by and smiled at that little moment
that brought many memories back. Ayrora turned quickly to the left when she
heard the branch break and went quickly to stand next to the mare. Now she
heard more footsteps and a soft beating of horse hooves. From behind one
tree Jones stepped out and from another Thomas. Ayrora's blood boiled as
she watched the two ex guards take a few steps forward stopping a few feet
from her.

Ayrora pretended to scratch beneath her boot as she reached for her dagger
and, how she wished Braedan would have been there, she would do what must be
done. First she turns to Thomas. You have no reason to be upon these lands
so I will tell you get off of this Province and do not ever return.
Thomas
looks Ayrora up and down before saying anything, Two against one M'lady, you
shan't get far.
Thomas pulls a dagger from its sheath and prepares to
attack her. She looked at Jones and then back at Thomas with a slight
laugh. She could get him if the other did not attack. In the meantime, she
could hear the hoof beats getting closer.

She looked at him very seriously, Try me.





Writer: Ayrora

Date Tue Oct 17 20:42:50 2017

To All Verminasia Immortal Storyline Roleplay

Subject Late Night Escape (Part 2 of 2)



She stepped back a few steps preparing for his next step just as he
rushed her and swung his dagger at here his face. She managed stave his
attack as she turned to her side and opened a gash on his upper arm. She
then took a few steps away so that he had a space to land. She could see
the anger on his face as she stood there unshaken. I have more if you wish.
He looked over at Jones, What are you standing there for? Get her!!!

At this point, Jones and Thomas were rushing her on either side, she pulled
her other dagger out and measured the distance, calculating what she could
do when Thomas dove and cut her on the side of her calf as Rora dove her as
deep as she could into his lower back. She turned quickly and sliced Jones
down his left shoulder. Jones howled in pain as he was thrown on the
ground. In came Braedan with a few guards.

Captain Amos looked at the two on the ground. Captain, See that my dagger
is returned once you get these two to the dungeons. Interrogate them and
see if they are working for anyone else and I shall put them out of their
misery when the time comes.
Amos nod, Yes, Viscountess. He lingered
about for a few moments looking at her. Yes Captain, I will travel with
guards from now on.






Writer: Ruwen

Date Wed Oct 18 23:11:36 2017




Writer: Ruwen

Date Wed Oct 18 23:12:44 2017




Writer: Ruwen
Date Wed Oct 18 23:13:52 2017




Writer: Ruwen
Date Wed Oct 18 23:15:11 2017




Writer: Ronilas
Date Thu Oct 19 20:37:52 2017




Writer: Ronilas
Date Thu Oct 19 20:40:41 2017




Writer: Barakiel
Date Fri Oct 20 19:57:10 2017




Writer: Nostarion
Date Tue Oct 24 18:54:54 2017

To All Verminasia Roleplay IMM Storyline

Subject A Once Ravaged Mind - Part 1



Through the dark, leering emerald eyes is All that could be noticed under
the guise of night. No moonlight lighting the way as the one known as Nox
made his way through the underbrush. He moved with purpose, no slouch nor
slowness in his quick and calculated steps towards his goal. Few hours past
with no words spoken and barely a baited breath escaped him as what he
sought came into view.

In front of him during this moon-less night was but a old home. He stepped
into the doorless entryway, only to be met with dust that flew upwards from
his footsteps. The floorboards creaked and gave from even under his light
weight but it did not deter him as he waded through dust, webs, and spiders.
Soon, he made his way to the stairway to the second floor and started to
climb.

Dust rose with every step, and soon he was met by a familiar sight,
millipedes. He cowled gaze peered down at them as he paused for only but a
moment before continuing his climb. Each step he climbed, more and more of
the milipedes made themselves known to him, following him up the steps. As
he got to the top, he turned and entered a solitary room upon the right and
slowly eased open the door.

Within the door, was but a simple looking room that seemed if it was never
touched but destroyed by time alone. A small bed fit for one sat in one
corner, with sheets and pillows that had a seasonal pattern of fall upon
them. The desser and chest, filed neatly to the side. He slowly glanced
over the room before walking over to a wardrobe that was unusually big and
paused before it.

The wardrobe seemed normal apart from its size, which was almost a foot
taller than the 7 foot tall man before it. It held innate depictions of the
four seasons, each surrounding a mirror upon the middle. Nox stood in front
of the mirror, gazing upon himself for a long moment before finally reaching
out and grasping the handle and flinging the doors open with some force all
the while sending dust flying.

Within the wardrobe appeared nothing but old suits for seemingly some type
of male formalware, many of them in fact. Nox cared not as he parted the
suits and reached out to the back of the wardrobe and spoke very faintly.
"I return from wence I came" comes the monotoned voice, only to be returned
by a sound of stirring. The wardrobes back seems to slowly part and what
appears to be a portal forms in front of the man to which he steps into with
haste.




Writer: Nostarion
Date Tue Oct 24 19:06:55 2017

To All Verminasia Roleplay Imm Storyline

Subject A Once Ravaged Mind - Part 2



Immediately, Nox snaps his fingers and a few torches light themselves to
reveal a dungeon-like room. The room is enclosed by blackened stone on all
four sides, only lit by torches and not touched by sunlight. To anyone by
him, this location would seem almost like another realm of possible doom,
but he stood silent and simply let his eyes glance over the entire area
before him.

Lifting his right hand, he slowly pulls back his cowl and lets his face
finally be shown to nothing. His face seems almost sad as he pulls his long
silver hair out from his robe and letting it fall down his back. As his
arms drop to his side, the portal closes behind him and he steps forward
into the darker depths of the room. The torches light his path, lighting
themselves the deeper he goes until he stops in front of a simple looking
wooden door that looks like a door to a normal cottage.

He reaches out and slowly wraps his hands around the knob of the door,
pausing as if just embracing the simple object. His eyes close for but a
moment before he opens the door and steps into the room that lights itself
to his presence. Within the room, it holds many tables and even what seems
to be an altar in one corner. He walks to the center table and looks down
upon it and finds many beakers, vials, and much more that clearly was used
for alchemical purposes.

Nox closes his eyes and hears skittering around the floor. Cracking open
his eyes, he notices his former friends and simply makes a nod before
closing his eyes once more. After a long pause, he quickly thrusts out his
hands and the table in front of him comes to life. The vials shift and
palce themselves upon racks, beakers move upon places to boil them, and fire
ignites upon stone basins that seeks to stir life within liquid. Nox seems
as if he was home as he flings open his robe, revealing alchemical
ingredients All within his robe. Like an artist, his hands deftly slip from
within his robe, taking out leaves and liquids of different colors and
transparencies, pouring them and mixing them with haste.

Quickly the room is filled with movements and life, tubes looping, beakers
boiling, and mixtures mixing All in perfect harmony. "This requires more.
" Nox talks to himself as he pours more liquid into a beaker filled with a
opague reddish liquid. Quickly the mixture comes to a complete halt and
seems to sizzle only to fade and die. His face contorts into slight anger
and quickly grabs the beaker and tosses it upon another table, cracking but
not shattering the glass.





Writer: Nostarion
Date Tue Oct 24 19:11:12 2017

To All Verminasia Roleplay Imm Storyline

Subject A Once Ravaged Mind - End



Another mixture is started in its place as quickly as the last was
removed and once more a brewing begins. "Heat slowly applied, before
mixing.
" He speaks instructions to no one but himself, grabbing a knife
and holding some kind of nut, cutting it open as he lowers the flame with a
hand, controlling it with magic and pouring in some juices from the nut.
After a few moments the concoction starts to disappate and Nox turns up the
heat upon it to brew but it appears to late as this one becomes a failure.
"No, this shall not occur again. " He speaks forcefully before grabbing it
and tossing it alongside his other failed experiment.

The millipedes that have been with him, assisting him in making these
mixtures by moving things around and putting things in, have almost now fled
from him in what seems to be fear. Few remain in front of Nox as he leans
upon the table and thinks, "This is not how it is supposed to go. It is not
right, what is wrong
" He pauses with a shake of his head, trying to regain
his mind before starting up a third mixture.

This time, the mixture starts burning bright and quickly becomes something
great. His hands tending and measuring, keeping up pace with what he
desires most. "Soon, soon enough. " He speaks as he adds some of another
mixture into his boiling and bubbling creation. At first, everything seems
fine as it fires up but it starts to be to much. The glass begins to crack
and shake, fizz rising as it seems close to exploding. "No, no, No! " Nox
nearly screams as he drags his hand across the table, sending every single
thing be it beaker, vial, or millipede flying and crashing to the floor.

Standing in the now unmoving room, some torches flicker upon the corpses of
the millipedes, as some run to All corners and leave through cracks. Nox
stand above the table, breathing heavily as both hands hold himself upright
upon the table. His face contorted into hatred as he turns toward a corner
of the room to a few of the millipedes and narrows his eyes. "I did not
return for you, I left you just as you left me. No more. I returned for
me. Leave me.
" He speaks, rising his hand as a flame leaps from it
towards the corner and cinders whatever that remained there and did not heed
his words.

Many minutes pass as he stares down at his forgotton and failed attempt and
lets out a heavy sigh. "I am but a fool to expect I could have regained my
mind through this. My mind is not my own, and I am weak to understand it.
" Nox reaches up a hand to rub at his face and wipes some moisture that fell
from his eyes before turning around to the door and leaving the room.
Slamming the old wooden door behind him. The torches dim and fade as he
wades towards the wall where the portal once was held and he raises his hand
towards the wall. "I return from whence I came" As the portal reopens, he
takes a deep breath, pulls up his hood, and steps through the portal back
into the starry night.




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Tue Oct 24 19:52:37 2017




Writer: Riordan

Date Tue Oct 24 19:54:51 2017




Writer: Dargonost

Date Thu Oct 26 16:00:35 2017




Writer: Cieran

Date Fri Oct 27 15:25:24 2017




Writer: Cieran
Date Fri Oct 27 15:26:25 2017




Writer: Lae'nyr
Date Fri Oct 27 19:33:35 2017




Writer: Iocaste
Date Fri Oct 27 21:14:42 2017




Writer: Iocaste
Date Fri Oct 27 21:14:43 2017




Writer: Iocaste
Date Fri Oct 27 21:14:45 2017




Writer: Damerus
Date Sat Oct 28 18:47:39 2017

To All Arkane ( Cayenna Imm Storyline RP )

Subject Preparing the Defenses I



There was a nervousness in the air of a chamber, a palpable tension that
would not normally exist. It wasnt as if it was especially dark or chilly.
The room had no windows from which a draft could sneak its way in, and
scones placed evenly on the walls were home to small orbs of magical light,
which were shuttered into the empty spaces of the chamber by the bookshelves
that flanked them. The room was quite adequately illuminated.

Even still, as the statuesque individual stood before one of the bookshelves
with his arms folded across his chest, it was apparent by his fidgeting
posture that something was wrong. He lifted his left hand and gently
pressed both index and middle fingers to his temple, narrowing the eyelids
encapsulating his blood-filled left eye. The tittle etched upon the spine
of the book he was staring at was clear enough, yet he wasnt sure if it was
the tome he was searching for. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath as he
reached out with his right hand to carefully withdraw the book from the
shelf, then exhaled as the tome slid free from between its leather bound
companions.

He made his way to a marble desk and carefully dropped the book onto its
surface. The rooms silence was interrupted by the echoing thump of the book
as it hit the desk, then he eagerly yanked the accompanying desk chair just
far enough for him to settle in to the seat. The palm of his right hand
rest upon his brow, fingers curled gently into the crimson and silver
strands of his hair as he angled his gaze down upon the books cover. It was
a book of ancient religious rituals. With his other hand he carefully
reached out and pulled it open.

The world seemed to fall away and it felt as though time ceased to matter,
the longer the man at the desk poured over the tome. Once again the room
was silent as a tomb, save for the occasional sound of a page cutting the
air as it was turned, and his eyes scrutinized every word it contained. At
some point, his solitude was interrupted by the double doors to the study
suddenly creaking open. A servant rushed into the room to pass along a
missive.

'A missive for you, Your Majesty. '

Damerus took the rolled parchment in hand, carefully broke its seal,
unrolled it and then looked it over. It took only a few moments to
ascertain the message written upon it, and sadness washed over his features.
He turned and offered a quiet nod to the man, then waved him off. As the
double doors closed, the half-breed let out a soft sigh.

He hadnt known the baker All that well, but he deserved better. Damerus
discarded the missive to the edge of the desk, then turned his attention
back upon the book and to the page it presently sat opened at. When he was
finished, he quietly turned the page.




Writer: Damerus
Date Sat Oct 28 18:55:47 2017

To All Arkane ( Cayenna Imm RP Storyline )

Subject Preparing the Defenses II



'Is this really necessary, Your Majesty? '

The ogre-king slowly pressed the blade of the dagger against his palm, then
looked up at the servant standing beside him and nodded. His oddly-colored
crimson eye seemed to almost wilt beneath the power of the studys magical
illumination, threatening to retreat behind its lid as he stared at the man/
His expression, in spite of his left eye, was resolute.

'Its an ancient ritual. It requires ancient practices. ' He then loosely
curled his fingers around the daggers edge, being careful not to allow the
insides of his fingers to actually contact the blades other edge. He
swiftly drew the blade across the skin of his palm and then discarded it
upon the marble desk.

'Surely someone else could provide the blood though? ' the servant looked
nervously at Damerus hand as he began to clench his fist. Drops of his
blood began to drip into an empty inkwell sitting upon the desk beside him.
If the wound caused him any pain, he masked it as he stared at the servant
working with him. When the servant finally looked back up at him, he smiled
- a move that softened his features as he spoke.

'You have the directions? Go slow if you must, we cannot afford to get this
wrong. Do not tarry unnecessarily though! When the ink is ready, bring it
to me straight away. I fear haste is nearly as important as precision. We
must get the wards prepared as quickly as possible.
'

The servant carefully collected the inkwell and made his exit from the
study. With a sigh, Damerus collapsed into the desk chair, his head falling
back to rest against its back. The day was fast approaching and he feared
they would not be finished in time. He lifted his head and stared down at
the open book on the desk, and the bloody dagger right beside it.

'Please let this work. ' he whispered softly as he reached out, lifted one
half of the book and carefully pushed it closed.




Writer: Damerus

Date Sat Oct 28 19:01:54 2017

To All Arkane ( Cayenna Imm Storyline RP )

Subject Preparing the Defenses III



The passage was dark and the smell emanating from the putrid, green-gray
water as it flowed across his faded leather boots made him want to vomit.
If there was any solace to be had down here among the waste and the trash,
it was that his left eye did was not bothering him, even in spite of the
light that emanated from the torch he carried in his right hand.

The man beside Damerus moved with trepidation, hands hanging in the air in
front of his chest as though he were capable of pushing the smell of sewage
down with them. Occasionally he would bring his hands together and cup them
over his nose. The ogre-king knew it wasnt helping.

Diligently they trekked on, feet gently splashing the ankle-high waters of
the Arkane sewers until at last they reached a bend in the passageways.
Damerus jerked his left hand up and signaled to his companion.

'Here. This should be good. ' then he quickly motioned and the servant
rushed forward, flipping open a satchel that was slung across his shoulders.
Reaching inside, the servant carefully produced a rolled piece of parchment
as Damerus began to recite an incantation under his breath.

The servant unrolled the parchment, stretched it straight and carefully
pressed it to the walls of the sewer. Quickly the ogre-king reached his
gloved left hand out and finished the incantation. The parchment
illuminated briefly. When they both withdrew, the parchment clung securely
to the sewer walls. The king smiled.

'Thats the last one. We can finally return topside. '

The servant gagged silently, trying to cover it up by blanching as a few
rats scurried by their feet. The two made their way back to the sewer
entrance, Damerus still holding securely to the torch in his right hand.
The torchs flame had been threatening to die out since they got the last
ward in place. When it finally did, the servant groaned in frustration.

'Was it really necessary placing one here, Sire? '

'It was. Now the whole city is covered - top to bottom. '

Damerus began to hum a gentle tune, which transitioned into a song. It was
a short song and only took a few long moments to finish, but when he finally
did the flame of the torch sprang to life once again, illuminating the
passage. The servant breathed a sigh of relief.

'Do you think the wards will keep whatever it is from the city, Your
Majesty?
'

'Let us hope so. '




Writer: Lae'nyr

Date Sun Oct 29 11:41:33 2017




Writer: Zola

Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:26 2017




Writer: Zola

Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:31 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:34 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:36 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:39 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:41 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:43 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:45 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:49 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:09:51 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:10:41 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:11:19 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Sun Oct 29 17:12:17 2017




Writer: Jossaryne
Date Sun Oct 29 21:43:13 2017

To All Shadow Lae'nyr Necrucifer Immortal Rp

Subject A lost soul finds a new calling



The Dame walked silently back to the entrance to Storm keep, her mind
heavily distracted with thoughts over the conversation she had just shared.
She had gone to the Temple near Verminasia, seeking a bit of peace and quiet
out side the halls. The night air was cold and it was a bit of a relief to
the woman as adjusting from the climate of Icewall to that of the desert had
certainly been a feat.

She had found a place among the pews and was beginning her meditations when
another had entered the temple. The woman had a lost look about her and it
left Jossaryne wondering what could cause one to emanate such an emptiness.
Joss' heart had always belonged to God and the closest to feeling lost she
had ever been was before she found her calling to serve in Storm.

The two ladies struck up a conversation and in no time hours had passed.
The Dame had been eager to share God's teachings to anyone whom wished to
hear them. They talked about the Prophecy and New World Order, and how the
world would be under Necrucifer's reign. Joss spoke with conviction and
pride as they talked about a world with peace and order.

She pulled out her own writings and copies of others that she had made for
herself and shared them with the woman. They talked about the principles of
Evil and Joss spoke reverently about her service in God's keep.

When she finally had to excuse herself and return to the keep, she felt as
if at the very least she might have saved a lost woman and given her new
hope. She had also given herself hope, hope that another would find their
way to Storm keep and join them in their crusade to see the Prophecy
fulfilled.

As she strode out of the Temple the words, 'Ambactus A Caligo. Submit and
be strong.' spilled from her lips.




Writer: Arreana

Date Mon Oct 30 09:07:03 2017

To All Taliena Imm Religion

Subject Praying for Sanctity



Arreana had, admittedly, been less thorough with her prayers to Taliena of late.
There were reasons, explanations, but they amounted to excuses as far as faith
was concerned. She needed to do better.

As the Ariel woman stood before the altar in Taliena's temple, she gazed at the
Candelabra that represented Taliena's tenets. The core values she wanted her
faith to center around.

Austinian was the head of the Holy family, but it was clear through All of the
years of study, prayer, and observation, that Taliena's followers were called to
similar levels of establishing unity, making peace, bridging over hellfire and
the depths of the void.

She had to be more. Taliena needed her to be more.

Arreana got down on her knees. She bowed her head, but her arms went up, as
though reaching up for Taliena to take hold of her. Her wings, as they were
often want to do when she relaxed them, spread out just a little bit, enough to
draw attention to their presence.

"Lady Taliena. Holy Father. Kantilles, Siccara, Nadrik... and the late Kadiya,
who is carried on by Her mother, I pray today for the peace of your truth in
these troubled times when the darkness grows and it becomes that much more
difficult to be a soul in the Light.

"I realize it is not necessarily your responsibility to watch out for everyone,
especially those who are reckless and foolish. But I ask for your protection
over the cities, the sprawling metropolises that house denizens with golden
auras. I pray for Althainia, my adopted home. But I also pray for Shalonesti,
and Thaxanos, and Arkane, the Gray Church, Nordmaar, Ganth, the Knighthood,
the Conclave, and the Wrath of Justice.

"In such places you will find those faithful to you. And, while we are not
perfect, perhaps even unworthy, your favor and blessing could still save many innocents."

When Arreana finished praying, she realized she had closed her eyes. Opening
them, she felt the wetness forming that indicated she was crying. Slowly, tears
fell down her cheeks and splashed benignly on the ground.

It had been a long time since she'd heard anything from Taliena. It was a
continually difficult road to unify the Light. The Bible of Holiness, the
revitalized Church of Light, she had thrown herself into plenty of projects in
an attempt to reach out to others.

Yet, in spite of it all, she couldn't silence that niggling voice to her fears
as a failure. She had shown up for the group prayer in an effort to do her duty
and help in the protection of the innocents, but no one else had appeared. She
stood there, All alone, doing her best to pretend that it didn't matter.

But it did matter. She'd retreated home and failed to show up for the second
prayer group time. Arreana hoped people gathered and prayed anyway, but her
recent experiences told her that it was unlikely.

Ever since her promotion to Bishop, Arreana had attempted to be more of a
leader, rather than just a quiet priestess spending her time studying religion
and supporting others. Yet it seemed as though All of her attempts were
unequivocable failures. It wasn't that hard to conclude, then, that she might
simply be a failure too, unfit to lead, only to serve in a supporting role.

Arreana closed her eyes and bowed her head, but the tears continued to fall.
------------------------------------------------------------PRAYING FOR SANCTITY




Writer: Zola
Date Wed Nov 1 01:02:49 2017

To All Bloodlust Abaddon Darkonin Verminasia Immortals Fatale Gragos

Subject X Purification X


"The remains need.. To be cleansed by the Order, and then cleared by the
Diggers
."

The orders made implicit by the Inquisitor following the Feasts ritual. In
the days that followed, as spirits and dead beings roamed the Cemetery and
city streets of Abaddon, Zola watched as food came and went. Some reduced
to ash by the passing of ghostly visages, others claimed by bold, still
living fingers. And yet more laden on the table to replace that lost, as
more came to offer tribute for the Day of the Dead. To offer praise to
departed souls who had returned, or else ensure they were kept on their good
side.


Then there had been that disastrous storm, which had upended the table and
scattered the foods amongst the dirt and ashes of the ground.

But now, the final night had passed, and dawn was coming. The sky was
starting to lighten on the eastern horizon, the dull pink and red of a
rising sun. Anxious to have the work done, Zola nodded to his Acolytes, who
went to work.


"Set it aflame," he intoned ominously.

The Forsaken's Diggers were already working to bury what they could, while
his Acolytes swiftly saved any food that was still salvageable and
unperished. The rest, as well as the table, was quickly set ablaze by
hellfire. Black smoke climbed up into the early morning sky as spirits
lingered around the peripherary... Before dispersing back to the Void.


The burning light reflected in the glass eyes of Zola's ever-present mask,
as he observed the conflagration.


Another Day of the Dead had come and gone, and the will of the dread Lord of
Murder had been made known. Whole cities had trembled before the might of
his wraiths and spirits. They had come to know His power. The rest was
still turning into something of a mess, but Abaddon had set a fire. It was
invariable some things would have to be burned in the process.


"Fatale be praised."




Writer: Sabien

Date Wed Nov 1 21:06:49 2017




Writer: Sabien

Date Wed Nov 1 21:11:06 2017




Writer: Nathaniel
Date Thu Nov 2 11:09:46 2017




Writer: Tatsuo
Date Thu Nov 2 11:48:16 2017




Writer: Tatsuo
Date Thu Nov 2 11:48:33 2017




Writer: Vyasa
Date Thu Nov 2 18:46:55 2017




Writer: Verdemar
Date Fri Nov 3 11:50:57 2017

To All Shadow Verminasia Crelius Reklah ( Imm Necrucifer Roleplay )

Subject Rebirth



Wake.

The voice was malignant, a seeping sort of evil that crawled into his bones
and nestled deep within. It rang against his marrow, vibrations shocking
their way into the core of his being, and Verdemar felt the fear grasping at
his throat once more, unseen fingers felt clawing at the flesh, grasping for
purchase where none ought be found.

His eyes fluttered open to find a creature wholly unlike the one who had
visited him nights prior, but one known to him. Ragged cloth swayed in an
unfelt breeze, unfettered by worldly forces. Despite the feelings of
familiarity he felt, the ghast's face was unrecognizable, its features
contorted into a twisted misrepresentation of what it is to be human.
Streams of haunted flesh dripped from its face like so much viscous bile,
pooling around its nonexistent ankles.

Sweat beaded along the man's brow, his fingers clenching against militant
sheets. His skin took on a ghostly pallor as Verdemar arose, unable to tear
his storming gaze from whatever It was that stood before him.

A robed arm reached upwards for Verdemar, fingers stuck in a state somewhere
between liquid and gas, tendrils of smoke waftinng upwards as molasses-like
flesh dripped from the black bones contained within. When It touched his
head, Verdemar's flesh sizzled; a searing heat struck downwards from his
forehead to his chest. It smelled of lightning, roasted flesh, and burning
hair.

Verdemar was blinded.

Yet he could see.

Symbols surrounded a small altar upon which candles burned. Men in animal
masks approached, their forms concealed by too-large robes. A naked form
writhed atop the altar, legs kicking futilely against bonds tight enough to
bruise. The pig-masked figure stepped towards the figure first, a large
slate mortar held aloft. Dumping its contents onto the stomach of the bound
person, the pig began to chant.

A smaller bodied person wearing a pristinely white rabbit-faced mask
followed, deeply intoning the same chant the pig before it had. Thick
gloves covered the rabbit's hands, and held in those gloves was a stone
bowl, the liquid contained therein nearly boiling out of it. The chant rose
in volume as the animal-masked cultists circled around the featureless body
bound before them, struggle-sounds masked by the cloth shoved in its mouth.

The rabbit began to tip the bowl slowly, letting the liquid pour over the
tall sides. As the black liquid splashed against the stomach of their
victim, it began to scream, a sound that could curdle even the staunchest of
hearts.

Its stomach curled around the liquid, flesh stripping in layers as the heat
forced its way inwards. Skin immediately more pink appeared, only to
disappear beneath the heat of its oppressor. When the bowl was emptied, the
curved altar in which the sacrifice lay was full, and their struggling soon
ceased to carry meaning. The acrid scent of fear was palpable in the damp
air of their chamber.

From the hole burned through the fast-boiling body they had captured rose a
small hand, tiny fignernails glistening with viscera, a stretched intestine
held aloft in the baby's fist. The chant ended, and All the animals stared
in mute anticipation as the fist squeezed around its birther's organs.

Flames burned higher, and Verdemar's sightless eyes widened in recognition
of the stone walls: Storm Keep. Verdemar sat bolt upright, waking from his
dreamscape with a start, the spectre's final words ringing in his ears
without cessation.

"You will end them, Templar. "

The reflection greeting Verdemar in the mirror opposite his bed offered a
vision of the damage his nightly visitor had done, a branching line of
piceous lightning from the crown of his head down to his chest, striking
through the handprint indelibly burned into his cheek.

He had work to do.




Writer: Ayrora

Date Fri Nov 3 13:03:14 2017

To All Verminasia Storyline Roleplay Immortal

Subject Death of Two Traitors



Everyone on Sacnoth had been told to gather in the empty field behind the
orchard and Ayrora watched as All the guards and the workers gathered. She
had forgotten how many workers were on the province but she patiently
waited. The Queen was on her way so they still had a little time.

"Are the prisoners ready Captain Amos?" She looked to him awaiting his
response, "Yes Viscountess, Shall I retrieve them?" She heard a sound of a
wolf howling in the distance, Yes, the Queen has arrived. She watched as
the Captain sprinted off towards the dungeons.

The Queen with a huge dark black and gray dire wolf,, much larger than her
stallion Braedan, with yellow eyes. None took their eyes off of the wolf
with fear that it would attack them. Once everyone was done with their
pleasantries to the Queen, of which none came close to her, They stood there
waiting for what they had been called. Ayrora curtseyed to the Queen and
smiled, "You did not tell me Etehnu was a giant wolf.." The Queen grinned
at Ayrora. "Some must have a few secrets, keeps them wondering." Ayrora
grinned, "I shall keep that in mind." Ayrora watched as the last of the
people gathered and the prisoners were being tied to posts about 25 feet
from the crowd. "Is this far enough your Majesty?" She turned to look at
her, "This should be far enough."

Ayrora takes a few steps forward and turns around to face the crowd, I have
asked you here this day to show you what happens to thieves and traitors. I
have never been unfair to my workers and have gone above and beyond to
assist many of you but I believe witnessing this will show everyone the
extent that I shall go through to punish this type of behavior.
She walks
back over towards the Queen and signals her with a nod.

Etehnu was at the Queens side and with a slight motion of her hand he was
off and attacked Jones, tearing his skin to shreds and breaking bones with
barely any force. Ayrora stood their motionless and void of emotion as she
watched what Etehnu could do. It was not too long before Jones was dead and
Thomas looked up at her pleadingly. Etehnu stood there awaiting the next
order. He looked to the Queen for his next order and Ayrora nodded in
agreement. She once again moved her hand and off went Etehnu, this time in
a bit of a frenzy.

Some of the workers had turned away and many cheered for Etehnu as they
watched him finish Thomas off. Soon, it was All over and Ayrora dismissed
everyone but a few stayed behind. Ayrora turned to face the Queen and
smiled, "Thank you, Majesty. I appreciate that you could come out here on
such short notice.
"Should you need me you know where to find me. Ayrora
nodded and smiled.




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Sun Nov 5 20:33:04 2017

To Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Imm RP

Subject The Nine Points A New



Rasavadi sat in his family library. Thousands of documents, tomes, and
scrolls lied in their place upon the shelves, and seemingly haphazardly
stalked.

In front of him lies several pieces of sheep skin vellum carefully glued to
a frame backing. Next to that lies a brand new piece with writing in his
own script.

Blowing the last of the sand from the drying ink, he clamps down the frames
upon both documents individually. Holding them aloft their wording is very
similar yet changed.

The new one reads:

The Nine Points of Knightly Virtue

Honor - Thy thoughts guard the mouth, the mouth guards the deed, the deeds
are All thy has. Have honorable thoughts, and have honorable words. Have
honorable words, and have honorable deeds. If any link in this chain is
broken, you have fallen from grace.

Loyalty - There is no villan worse than those who forsake their Oaths and
Vows. Be loyal to thy Brothers and Sisters at All costs. Go back not on
thy word, ever.

Wisdom - The ignorant speak with thier mouth, the wise with their hearts.
The youngest child may speak words vastly wiser than that of an Oracle.
Evaluate the wisdom of others over the knowledge of thyself.

Pride - Be proud of who you are, of what you are, of your Oath and Vows.
However, do not let this pride devolve into narcissism, for it is a weakness
to be eradicated by the virtue of humility.

Unity - As Brothers and Sisters we are one under the blue banner. No matter
rank or age, we are family bound by honor, Oaths and Vows. Ties stronger
even than blood.

Strength - Show not weakness on the field of battle nor in support of thy
fellows.

Glory - Know no other glory than to see thy masters and their cause hurtle
forward toward realization.

Courtesy - Even in the face of abject ignorance show all, even thy enemy,
the same respect you show thy Brothers and Sisters.

Sacrifice - Offer All to thy Brothers and Sisters, and you shalt receive
everything in return.




Writer: Euterah

Date Sun Nov 5 22:24:53 2017

To All Darkonin Imm

Subject Once. Twice. Three Times a Charm.



Light slanted across the floor, highlighting the motes seeming to drift
in the bright beam, Euterah combed her hair in the large mirror of her
quarters. She had regained some of her weight, looking less wasted.
Brackish gaze assessed her figure, hands that looked so old, face that
seemed so different. The comb untangled a knot, she stopped and stared at
herself. She grinned. Sharp white teeth flashed that immutable and wholly
wicked smile as she stood facing the mirror, her visage distorted in the
warped sheen of glass. It had not been made well, for some reason or
another and the image that looked back was gruesomely bubbled and twisted.
She ran a finger over her lips.

Witch of the Northlands. Queen of the Mountain. She was compelled to
return to Darkonin. She could no longer draw breath unless, her heart beat
for no other than her people and her conquest. The Mountain which was her
savior.

Euterah accepted Vershaes offer, shared responsibility. Something like
thrill surged through her, causing hope to blossom once again. The Mountain
remained, it resisted. It stood. She would grow it.

Tender.

Encourage.

She picked up her comb once more and resumed working through her hair.




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Mon Nov 6 19:23:42 2017

To All Verminasia Immortal Tashio Cayenna Ampersand Storyline Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Prologue IV - The Ghul



--*--

'Show us, Etehnu. '

The quiet growl of acknowledgment the wolf gave as it turned to lead them
through the ruins carried on an unforgiving breeze. The vibrations on the
wind bore evidence still of the event that had laid waste to the Empire and
the lands that surrounded it. The tension of it hummed along her skin. Ash
glanced once more toward the severed limb Etehnu had left in the snow behind
them, drew her pelt tighter around herself and followed alongside Telthian.


The snow and ice had reclaimed the broken carcasses of the buildings that
lined either side of the street centuries ago so All that remained of them
were tattered teeth that rose from the uneven stone that the earth had
unsettled as it heaved. The skald studied these in passing and tried to
envision them as the grand structures they once might have been. The snow
covered path showed no sign of passage aside from the single trail the wolf
left in its otherwise perfect surface. The animal paused ahead to glance
back at them before continuing on.

The macabre scene that spread before them as the pair followed the direwolf
into an open courtyard gave Ashtiel enough pause that the sudden advancement
of the misshapen creature huddled at its center caught her off guard and she
backed away reflexively as she drew her sword to defend herself.

The cut her blade made across the yinn's throat should have put end to its
assault but instead, the creature continued to lunge at her. The air filled
with the scent of rot and black ichor oozed from the gaping wound her sword
had torn into the ghul's frozen flesh. The unnatural cold that radiated
from the creature sent a stinging shiver along her skin and she retreated to
share a glance with the priest.

The ghul's teeth snapped audibly as it lunged at her again, clawing at her
with an elongated arm that missed its mark only because the massive wolf
lunged forward to lock its jaws onto the offending limb. Etehnu shook the
deformed yinn, dragged the writhing creature back from the skald and forced
it onto the ground as the ghul let out a gurgled shriek.

Though on its back, the beast flailed and rolled rapidly in the snow, trying
to escape the hold the wolf had upon its flesh as the animal continued to
shake and pull. Ashtiel charged forward to drive her sword through the
ghul's chest, the blade making a sickening scrape as the metal grated past
something embedded within the ghul's rotten flesh. She drove the struggling
creature downward, both hands wrapping around the hilt of her longsword as
she bore down with her weight to keep the creature trapped beneath her.

'Telthian! '

The priest was already there, the dark saber sheathed at his side pulling
free with a whisper of sound. Telthian raised the sword high and struck, a
swift blow precisely aligned with the exact place Ashtiel's sword had torn
its flesh moments before. The ghul's head hit the ground with a thud and
rolled so that its distorted face with eyeless sockets peered up at them.
Ichor spilled forth to stain the blanket of white.

The priest's saber cluttered to the snow as his hands raised to clutch his
head between them.

--*--




Writer: Xiaos

Date Mon Nov 6 21:06:57 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject A New Path?



Silence.

Usually Xiaos found solace in the quiet of the gardens, but lately he found
anything but. Thoughts were swirling in his head, unanswered questions
mixed in with a plethora of emotions. He had been so focused on his current
path, so focused on the task at hand, that these things almost snuck up on
him. He was not fully prepared for the realization he was working toward,
something that he had thought could not even be a possibility. Xiaos tried
to banish it from his mind, but no matter what he tried it was a lost cause.
He took in a deep breath, and remembered the teachings of the Dark Mistress.
He would not let these feelings rule him. He cleared his consciousness a
final time, then let the reality sink in.

Perhaps a return to the Conclave wasn't in his destiny.

It was something Xiaos had been working toward for so long now, that it
almost seemed absurd to even ponder on it. But as the days passed and his
situation continued to stagnate, he couldn't really deny it any more. He
was truly at a loss for what else to do. Outside of his conversations with
the Master of the Conclave, there didn't seem to be much support for his
return. Before he had left the Towers there had been plenty, and even
shortly after. But lately, nothing. The reasons were not really important
to him. Xiaos was sure there were reasonable explanations. But ultimately
the facts were the facts, and perhaps this was All happening for some
greater purpose. Perhaps these were the stones in his path that he needed
to cherish.

Upon speaking with the Master again, he discovered there might be another
way. Things were in motion already. He had heard the whisperings on the
winds already, but he had mostly disregarded them. Perhaps it was time he
started listening...




Writer: Nymaya

Date Wed Nov 8 04:53:59 2017

To Eclipse Shadow Verminasia Rasavadi All Imm RP

Subject Purpose



The land was cast in twilight. It felt perpetual, endless. A glory in
that and before her, the ghostly image of an ancient Keep arose. Its walls
were blackened, had seen decades of war. Men and women of All races had
entered to serve a common goal. It had been successful, it had made its
share of mistakes, and it had lasted - until corruption destroyed it from
within.

Word had whispered of renegades within the order itself. They'd risen up
when the Gods had brought their war to the mortal plane. The battle had
claimed the venerable Eclipse err it ended and All that remained were the
broken remnants of a history that had helped shaped Algoron.

She could imagine the ramparts, the banners and flags. The patrol of
dedicated soldiers. She had seen it once through clouded eyes, now though,
she was more clear on what it had All meant.

On what it could potentially mean again.

Her fingers wrapped slowly around the amulet at her neck and tightened,
until she could feel its edges digging into her flesh. In All else, she had
hesitated. Had waited. Hoping against hope that her path would not be
solitary, that she would rediscover herself and find her purpose.

Her mistakes had cost her dearly.

She closed her eyes as a chill breeze wafted through the forest, ruffling
the dry leaves that had fallen to the ground, and when she opened them again
all that remained was the clearing.

Autumn was fading, the long dark of Winter would soon be upon them. It
would be a time of change. There was purpose here. Promises to keep. A
Prophecy and the Will of a God to adhere to.

She would not hestiate this time.

"Advisor" The voice of the guard drew her from the moment and she glanced
back at him, her hair a silver shimmer in the darkness. "We should return."

She released the amulet, paused to study the indent it had made in her palm,
and then acceded to the guard. Kyorl and assassins were one thing, Aspects
and spirits, quite another.

"By extinguishing the sun, may we die free of sin" She whispered softly and
turned back to the kingdom, the guard close by.




Writer: Nuuf

Date Wed Nov 8 12:29:26 2017

To All Boof

Subject < The son of Boof: Nuuf >



Nuuf narrowed his eyes and glanced nervously at the blade Boof was
holding a few inches above both his wrists.

"Are yuz sure dis am standard procedure ter become der official son of Boof?
"

Boof grinned at his bastard son. He had lost his hand a long time ago
because he valued the truth more than accepting a lie. It was his son's
time to do the same, but he pondered if he should cut his hands first and
then do the test or the other way around.

"Boof am sure ub everything Boof does. "

Nuuf knew his dad was not being precisely truthful. He was sure it was just
a test and nothing bad was going to come from this.

"Yuz can start der now. Nuuf am ready ter become der Boof son. Nuuf am no
scared.
"

Nuuf looked at his dad. Boof was amused and cackle-farting. Nuuf tried to
look amused to imitate him. He let out a fart, but it came out rather small
and nervous.

"Are yuz sure? Der am no return from this. "

Nuuf nodded. Boof raised the blade to scare his son, but instead of scared
he looked rather happy. Boof shrugged

"Dis der last chance ter say yuz want yuz hands. "

Nuuf pondered for a second and then nodded. He had passed the test and his
father would let him go unharmed. Boof knew his son didn't really wanted to
lose both hands, so he was gonna let him go, but not without a good scare.
He raised the blade higher and brought it down with great momentum. He was
going to stop it right before he chopped both of Nuuf's hands, but it
slipped.

Swiing...

Boof looked amused when he saw what he had done.

"Woops, my hand slipped. "

Nuuf looked up at his dad, then at his hands on the floor and then up at his
dad again.

"My hands slipped too. "




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Wed Nov 8 18:37:05 2017

To Eclipse All Imm RP

Subject Awakened in the Night



Rasavadi slept in his quarters, tossing and turning as usual. He
required wearing his protective gear at All times now. The wounds he
suffered from the Aspects had healed, but was left extremely sensitive to
climate. So he wore his specially lined silksteel, with its protective gel,
at All times now.

Rasavadi startled awake, awakened by an invokers alarm he had set outside
Skull Keep, or what remained of it. Expecting nothing he looked out the
window anyway. Seeing a small gathering near the ruins his interest piqued.


He uttered a few detection spells and peered through his dragonhelm with
intent. "Hrm, guards... And not those of Storm's. Waste of time."
Turning away from the window he caught the impression of another form.
Tall, slender and regal. "Well, that's no guard." He said to himself.
Casting infravision he confirmed the existence of a feminine form from the
heat signature.

Removing his helm with a grimace he peered down a small telescope towards
the gathering. "Ahhh, Nymaya."

The lead guard appeared to speak, and looked to be ignored. Then she spoke
the ancient vow, and turned away.

"Restinguere solem, Sister." He said to her though she could not possibly hear.




Writer: Sarynzalayth

Date Wed Nov 8 21:46:27 2017

To All Verminasia Asthiel Telthian Immortal Tashio Cayenna Ampersand Storyline Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Joining the Expedition


--*--

The winds howled loudly, bitterly cold, Sarynzalayth hated Icewall. She
hated the snow, the ice, the frigid air that stung her eyes. The massive
red wyrm soared high in the sky, the flapping of her large wings deafened by
the roaring of the blizzard around her. She would never understand why
anyone or anything would ever call this desolate land of ice, home.

The dragon shook her enormous head, shaking the irritating thoughts from her
mind. She had work to do. The story of Dae'tok, destroyed by a massive
star sent by her Lord Necrucifer, had reached her ears. The Queen and King
of His lands were in search of the destroyed settlement of yinn and the
secrets of its remains. She vowed to aid them in any way the dragon was
able to. Though annoyed by most mortals, she was quite fond of both
Majesties, as well as couple of others of Necrucifer's mighty kingdom. Her
loyalty to His most Faithful was strong.

Sarynzalayth squinted her eyes, peering through the thick snowy air, eyeing
a massive crater deep within the icy lands before her. This had to be it,
the ruins of the once massive yinn city. The red dragon pulled her wings
closely to her body, diving lower to the ground below for a better look.
Toppled ruins lay before her, jagged stone emerging from the icy terrain,
obvious evidence of the ancient Dae'tok kingdom. Spreading her leathery
wings wide, she pulled up just before slamming into the ground, soaring over
the deep stone-filled crater. Her emerald eyes glowed in the darkness,
scanning her surroundings, searching for any knowledge she could bring to
the Majesties, anything that could be of use in their religious expedition.



Flying through the icy air, the red wyrm quickly turned her head to the
left, her dagger-like teeth clenched tightly, sensing some sort of life-form
below her. A massive yinn looked up at her from within the ruins, fur
blackened, coated with thick layers of ice, dented and tarnished plate armor
covering his large form. Sarynzalayth opened her large jaws, releasing a
ground shaking roar, casting her dragon fear over the ruins within the
crater. The frozen land quaked beneath her, sending a large avalanche
tumbling down the valley, large mounds of snow and ice sliding towards its
center. The yinn stood tall, unaffected by the dragon's mighty roar,
unfazed by the fear that typically brough mortals to their knees, frozen and
unmoving. This was no typical mortal, this was something else All together.
Annoyed, Sarynzalayth soared to her left, turning to face the yinn standing
within the crater below her. She opened her massive maw once more, this
time an effortless breath of fire streamed forth, covering the yinn in a
ball of flame.

Chuckling lighty, smoking spiraling from her nostrils, Sarynzalayth soared
several feet through the air before turning around, certain with herself
that she would find only the charred body of the yinn remaining. The dragon
roared loudly in anger, her glaring eyes finding the yinn still standing
before her, smoke billowing around him, her flame melting the deep snow at
his feet. This time his arms were raised, a large bow within his hands.
Arrow after arrow quickly flew through the air, Sarynzalayth swung her
massive body within the air, a couple of arrows hissing past her. The yinn
continued to fire rapidly, several others bouncing harmlessly off her
hardened red scales.

Extremely irritated by the yinnish pest, Sarynzalayth was done playing with
her furry toy, she sucked in deeply, pulling at the air around her, her
massive red girth glowing brightly within the darkness of the crater. The
red dragon opened her mouth wide, flames flickering at the back of her
throat as she prepared release an enormous breath of fire.

--*--




Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Nov 10 23:02:31 2017

To All Immortal Religion

Subject Broken Resolve (I)



The halls of the Keep of Gareth were nearly silent, if not for the heavy
footfalls of the Crown General as he made his way to the stables. Reports
had come in again of the Brown, the one they knew as the Sandstorm, spotted
not far from Althainia.

His stride quickened as he noted that Giles was asleep in one of the stalls,
and that Phodric, his warhorse, was not saddled or prepared. It would take
too long at this point, and that would cost lives. Reaching to his hip, he
took hold of the flanged mace which had been blessed by Nadrik's power, and
took to a run through the gates of the keep.

As soon as he reached the walls of Althainia, he could hear the roars of the
dragon, as well as the panic of the citizens of the city itself. Cursing
under his breath, Mercerion climbed one of the stairs which lead to the top
of the wall and began to run as swiftly as his armor would carry him.

As he reached the eastern gate, he stopped and unslung his yumi, and nocked
a bodkin arrow, taking aim. The Dragon was impossible to miss, even at this
range. Its size made it clearly apparent even from the Cross Roads. The
General took aim, and loosed.

The Arrow soared through the air, striking into the dragon's flank which
caused a roar from the beast. It turned to face the oncoming General, mace
in hand, and drew back its great wings to kick up debris and dirt from the
ground.

Mercerion held up his arm but it was too late, his vision was lost as the
irritants burned into his eyes and prevented his sight, but not his hearing.
He heard the death-cry of the last remaing kyorl present along with the
Speaker, though the Speaker was continuing to fight. Mercerion charged into
the melee, striking out with his mace to attempt any damage he could against
the beast, but the hide of the dragon was tougher than the strength of his
arm.

His vision returned to him, with enough time to see the brown rearing for a
bite against the speaker, whom had not yet recovered his senses. Mercerion
lunged for the speaker, pulling the two of them out of the reach of the
bite, and rose again between the speaker and the brown. Silently, the
speaker withdrew, and as Mercerion turned to face the brown again, he felt a
vicious impact, and pain burst through his entire body.

The Sandstorm had lashed out with his tail and caught the General squarely,
easily strong enough to lift Mercerion off the ground and send him into a
nearby tree. The impact against the tree shattered not only the trunk, but
several of the vertebrae in Mercerion's back.

He collapsed to the ground, completely unable to move, but graciously devoid
of the momentary burst of pain from before. His body broken, he could not
even move to try and heal himself, and was completely defenseless.

The General never saw the Vampire. Never even sensed its approach until it
grabbed a hold of his hair and yanked his chin up harshly. The General
coughed, blood flowing from his lips as he momentarily choked, and saw a
glint of steel move before his eyes to his throat.

To be continued.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Nov 10 23:05:21 2017

To All Immortal Religion

Subject Broken Resolve (II)



He tried to move, to utter a healing spell... Anything... But his body
would not respond. The vampire never met his eyes, but began to cruely
press the blade against Mercerion's throat. The General was blind to the
pain, having lost his sense of feeling, but his mind knew what was coming.


He had enough time to remember his vows... The prayers he said each day.
The reasons why he continued to fight, to come back after each time death
had claimed him. The stubborn will that drove him onward, to see Nadrik's
teachings... His very will, fulfilled. He felt that very will draining
from him, as day in and day out he rose, fought, and died without releif or
response, or any seeming notice from the Gods he'd sworn to.

His life and works again flashed before him. His time struggling through
the ranks of Gareth and eventually earning Nadrik's notice, and favor. The
death of his first family. The Coronation as Emperor of Althainia, and the
work done to turn the Empire into a kingdom of Light... The death of his
friend Bolter... The several consecutive defeats watching hope for Nadrik
dwindle... The death of his son... His return to Gareth...

Each of these things coming quicker than the last, becoming more vivid. He
had given his life for the Gods of Righteousness, and even or Algoron, more
times than many are blessed with the opportunity todo so, and here he was,
about to do it again. Yet he always returned to his body, always got back
up and stood between the darkness and algoron itself.

Only now... He'd been standing alone. Sure the Gods had blessed him, but
it became impossible for him not to notice how it felt that perhaps the Gods
were the only ones with him... If even that? Had it not been Nadrik whom
nearly killed Drakkara AND Devion...

It had... And when the rest of the dark Pantheon came down, and beat Nadrik
to within inches of his life... None of Them came to help... Instead...
They put their "faith" in the mortals. They put their trust in people like
Mercerion, whom even now, was set to pay the price for their lack of action
again.

How long could he keep this up? Did he even want to anymore? Did those
Gods whom condemned him with their inaction to this hellish existence even
continue to care?

As this thought entered his mind, he saw a flash of red-white light, and
heard the sickening sound of flesh being rended, felt the thick warmth of
his blood flood his lungs and throat. He felt his body cling, try to
endure, but he felt the life slipping from him, and his essence departing
from his body.

To be Continued...




Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Nov 10 23:13:32 2017

To All Immortal Religion

Subject Broken Resolve (III)



As he shuddered with the illness brought on by death. A death that once
again, would not be permanent, and once again, he would be expected to
return to his body, and fight, bleed, and die for those Gods whom had done
nothing to save His own.

Or would he?

What if this time, when the siren's call to return to his body and
reincorporate came... He chose not to answer? Could he truly will himself
to linger here? The Gods had done nothing when Nadrik was surely to be
slain... Why would he think it would be any different if he failed to
return to his body?

He wasn't much more than a number after all... Nor was he worth much more
than a number.

But He remembered numbers too.

His sons and daughters whom had been lost

His brothers and sisters whom were murdered.

They were here... Somewhere in this place between life and... Well not.

He felt the presence of his assassinated son, and lowers his eyes.

""You were never one to turn your back on them, Father." "

You were always their champion, whether you could take it or not.

"I know" came the reply from the General.

But how long can I endure this before I break? When comes my relief?

"I have asked for NOTHING, and that is what I've been given." The General
fumed.

Only now, the presence was more keen. He felt as if perhaps he was actually
holding his son's hand... And then his other hand...

They were trying to encourage him, he knew... But he wasn't ready to leave
this time.

This time... If the Gods wanted him back, they could come for him...
Otherwise, He may come back on his own time.

OOC Disclaimer***

Howdy folks! I want to make sure that this is not viewed in any way as an
attack against another player, or the immstaff, but simply the reflections
of my character. I have given 20 years of my life to this wonderful place,
and I deeply respect and cherish every part of that. That being said, My
life is too hectic right now, and far too stressful I've found, to keep up
here and enjoy it, so I'm going to be taking my leave for a bit, while
trying to leave things open-ended. Hopefully this is just a break. I love
you all.




Writer: Rumptin
Date Sat Nov 11 19:52:22 2017




Writer: Aliera
Date Sun Nov 12 12:37:42 2017

To Knighthood All ( Imm Roleplay Admin Nadrik )

Subject Prayers of Desperation (part 1)



He was late, typically by this hour they had tea together, though that
was of course when her duties in the temple and his on the field did not
delay such timing, so she was sure that was the case, for the first several
hours.

The first night found her sitting the temple waiting, he must have gotten
caught up in the excitement and battles of the field, retired to the lair
perhaps due to the lateness of day. Prayers left her lips to their Lord,
thankful for the safety that had been granted them in their great many
battles in His name, grateful for the vouchsafing of the young men and women
that still came to the Keep seeking to serve, albeit with less regularity
now, and asking for the return of her General, of one the Lord himself knew
closer to her than any other on this plane. The candles burned down and she
replaced them, thrice before anyone else stirred in the Keep and wandered
into the temple. Pages and squires came in, doing as they were bid, a few
of them under her own direction even replacing the candles again, while
giving their General a concerned glance, though they dare not interrupt what
seemed to be a very deep set of thoughts.

Where was he? This was unlike him, no word to her and not having returned
to the Keep. There were no planned trips abroad to the Isle and no business
at their estates he was tending to that she was aware of.

Aliera continued her prayers for the next several days, only needing the
sustenance of the Lord to keep her healthy physically, though the days were
beginning to take a toll nonetheless. Time came and went, the setting sun
through the small windows of the Keep casting sweeping shadows over her
svelte form among the pews that faded with the dimming light, only to be
cast once more in a different direction as her Squires kept the candles lit.
Some of them even prayed beside her, though her own petitions were silent,
there was a comraderie felt while among them that she treasured more than
they knew. When this was over she would have to thank them.

She went over each mission and battle in her mind, thanking Nadrik for
seeing them through them all, lifting up each Page and Squire and Knight by
name that had fallen in the midst of the trials they had borne as a
brotherhood together. She lifted up those beside her, so often fighting on
the field with the Sword as well as All of those of her order, fighting with
the Word as their weapon, no less dedicated for their choice. The Knights
of the Keep, be they of the Lords faith or not, asking for blessings and
safety upon them, and in the end, adding the far weaker, and softer plea
that her Lord had not called her Crown General and husband home without
allowing her to say goodbye.




Writer: Riordan
Date Sun Nov 12 12:39:48 2017




Writer: Rasavadi
Date Sun Nov 12 14:59:58 2017




Writer: Xiaos
Date Sun Nov 12 16:09:56 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp Kyri

Subject A light in the darkness



Xiaos had All but accepted his new fate. It had been hard for him to
come to the realization, and even harder to try and cope with it. But he
didn't have time to dwell on it any longer. The Mistress demanded his
service, one way or another.

While he was deep in his musings, he felt something unseen whiz by his head.
At first he thought it was his imagination, perhaps a side effect of his
swirling emotions. But then he felt it again, this time on the other side
of his face. There was no mistaking it now, there was clearly another
presence in his vicinity.

Always wary, Xiaos instinctively reached for his sword. With everything
that had been going on in the city lately, he could never be too sure. He
attuned his senses to his surroundings, and tried to focus on this unseen
entity. At first he couldn't feel anything, so he doubled his efforts. And
at long last, it was there again. He could feel it more keenly now, and it
was then that he noticed any lack of hostility emanating from this presence.
He was beginning to think that whatever it was, it wanted him to know it was
there. He let his guard down a little bit, and then called out to it. "Who
goes there?" Xiaos stated loudly.

At first there was nothing, and then suddenly the White Wizard was before
him. Xiaos blinked to make sure his eyes were not betraying him, but there
would be no doubt. His old companion had come to find him. A million
thoughts assailed his brain. Why was the White Wizard here? And why now?
Xiaos couldn't help but be a little skeptical of the entire situation, but
that quickly faded after the White Wizard started talking to him. Rumptin
was mostly re-assuring, letting him know that they had been watching his
progress, and that his time to come home was not so far off. His main
message to Xiaos however, was to remain vigilant, and let the path of magick
guide him. If he would trust in it, the trust would one day be returned.

And just like that, the White Wizard was gone. But his message still
resounded in his ears, and Xiaos' faith was fully restored. He would
continue on his path toward Guardianship.




Writer: Euterah
Date Sun Nov 12 18:35:18 2017

To Darkonin All Imm

Subject Observe Serve



She observed. The Witch Queen sat on the stones, the population moving
around her. She wore what she had come out of the Northlands with, tunic,
leggings, dress, twice furred boots, cloak, pouches, and weapons. She
flexed her fingers, they ached yet. The Northlands were challenging. She
had knowledge to conquer them yet. She earned that much.

The Witch Queen rose from her setting, losing herself within the crowd of
those that inhabited and traded within the Hollows. The noises were a din
compared to that of the Mountain. The Witch Queen forced it All back,
focused, any who had glimpsed her then would think they saw a crackle of
lightning. She fetched Kreegah from where the gequine was stabled, back in
a separate alcove from the rest of the animals. The beast deigned to lower
its thorny head and the Witch Queen swung herself onto its great back. The
gequine almost tossed her, but she held tight and laughed out loud, causing
some to look in her direction. With a slight movement the stallion carried
her out of the Hollows, past the Neverwoods and into the plains, the Witch
bade the gequine stop.

The chill as she breathed shocked her senses, clear, cold salvation.

The Witch Queen whispered a word, it went out.

She turned back on the road, the gequine and the witch heading to the
mountain.




Writer: Xiaos
Date Sun Nov 12 20:40:18 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp Kyri

Subject The path comes full circle...



Now that Xiaos had fully processed his recent conversation with the White
Wizard, he couldn't help but think about another conversation he had with
another member of the Conclave.

Xiaos had spoken at length with the Master of the Conclave, about his quest
to return to the Towers. As always, Rasavadi had offered his support, but
the bakali could tell that his former apprentice was strangely preoccupied.
Xiaos was never one to pry in anothers musings, but luckily he didn't have
to.

Rasavadi explained to him that there was another way for him to serve. He
spoke to him of a time long since past, of an organization that once help
shape the entirety of Algoron. Xiaos listened intently, and admittedly it
didn't interest him much at first. The Master implored him to seek the
ancient texts that spoke of this institution, and Xiaos would oblige him
without question. Rasavadi had earned that trust many moons ago.

And so Xiaos read the texts. It was an interesting tale, and he couldn't
help but be a bit caught up in it. There was honor in this group, something
the bakali could truly respect. To be a part of something bigger than
yourself, was what Xiaos wanted really that much different?

If his current quest didn't work out, this would certainly be something he
would consider. He had pledged his sword to the Master before, and he would
do so again if needed. He told Rasavadi as much, and it was the honest
truth. And had the White Wizard not come to him recently, it might have
come to pass. But at least for now, he would put these thoughts out of his
mind. His thoughts were clear once again, and should the Master call upon
him in this other capacity he would deal with it at that time.

Strength in magick. He repeated his favorite mantra in his head a few
times, and nodded resolutely. There was work to be done.




Writer: Symantha
Date Tue Nov 14 01:06:08 2017




Writer: Thrakhath
Date Tue Nov 14 05:40:10 2017




Writer: Madison
Date Tue Nov 14 16:50:44 2017




Writer: Madison
Date Tue Nov 14 20:28:31 2017




Writer: Madison
Date Tue Nov 14 21:49:14 2017




Writer: Nehtur
Date Wed Nov 15 23:10:04 2017




Writer: Jossaryne
Date Wed Nov 15 23:30:06 2017




Writer: Vyasa
Date Thu Nov 16 16:44:11 2017




Writer: Ikkara
Date Fri Nov 17 18:17:54 2017




Writer: Maccus
Date Sat Nov 18 23:44:10 2017

To Bloodlust All (RP Raije Imm)

Subject Into the fray.



Pain. Suffering. The two things he knew in life that he could count on.
As he looked over the recently fallen corpse he grimaced under his mask for
a moment. He knew that this easily could have been him. Blood pooling out
from the body as if it were a lake flowing into a newly formed canyon. He
continued watching for a moment, his breathing becoming slow and deep,
readying his mind and his wits for the next battle to come. Before he
leaves he adjusts his mask, making sure it still remained, even if slightly
broken.

Before he could even move he heard the All familiar yells from around him.
Bloodlust, his new home was doing what they did best. He never cared who
struck the final blow as long as they died and he could watch their blood
flow just a moment longer. Long enough to take away from his own pain and
suffering.

Around him cackling erupted, a familiar voice calling him back to regroup
and form back up and get ready to strike again. He took one last look at
the dead body and and continued thinking, knowing that he too could end up
like this poor dead thing. Did it matter to him if he lost? No. As long
as the blood flowed like the best wine around, he would be at ease.

The voices once again called out for him, calling him more demandingly,
perhaps even calling for his aid. He seemed unphased by them, perhaps even
for a moment ignoring them as he continued to watch the blood flow and seep
into the ground. He knelt down and grabbed the first piece of cloth on the
being and began cleaning the slim longsword.

Suddenly a rush of combat abrupts into the clearing he's in and is forced
up. Watching his comrades in Bloodlust entangled with some group, he could
not tell yet, nor did he truly care. He quickly sprang into action, placing
his boots into the chest of something, someone before landing squarely on
his feet and pressing the attack, simply laughing at his opponents skill in
fighting. In the back of his mind he knew this is where he belonged,
fighting and killing... Marauding out here with new comrades as he learned.




Writer: Telthian
Date Sun Nov 19 09:28:55 2017

To All Shadow Verminasia Necrucifer Imm Religion

Subject The Cloth



The small roadside shrine was a humble thing, greeting weary travelers
and offering a respite from the cold that assailed any passing through the
frozen tundra. Like the others before it, the priest donned a simple
hand-made symbol of that dark faith and he hobbled beyond the arched entry
to rest. His dark vestments of the priesthood exchanged for the common,
unremarkable rags of a pauper and a plain, travelling wooden staff, the
kingpriest scarcely recognized himself as he caught himself reflected back
upon the glassy surface of the fountain. Fervent, eyes peered back at him
beneath a tattered cowl like a pair of smoldering embers so subtly
restrained behind the slate of his iris. The signs of his travel soiled his
skin and disheveled his hair in stark contrast to his usual appearance.

Though his garb was a well planned facade, the signs of exhaustion - the
dark circles beneath his eyes and heavy lines which creased his face, were
genuine. These times were trying, unprecedented within the history of
Algoron. Temples had fallen before, but never like this. Never so many.
This was his rest between the unbroken vigil held by the faithful in defense
of the last temples.

Huddled against the chill, he sat and listened. Every now and again he
would drink from a plain waterskin or share bread with another visitor.
Devion's shrine was quiet, but like Dragoth's and Drakkara's before it, the
time was well spent in observation. He did not speak much. A mumbled word
here or there when prompted, his head cowed in deferrence. But he listened
to the petitioners as they spoke, from the washed pigrims to the most
well-appointed clergy.

The signs were still murky, though with each blasphemous act they gleaned a
shred of insight. The threat to the Pantheon itself was real and there was
no choice but to prepare for the worst. And so the King and Cardinal
travelled from temple to temple, shrine to shrine as one of the faceless,
unwashed masses shrouded in poverty and filth. As he listened, he marked
their faces and names as if he were a merchant and each clergyman were a
coin to be tested upon the scales.

The hours dwindled away and soon the priest was due to resume his vigil.
His mind wandered to the apostate, and what might be found in Fatale's halls
of obsidian. He departed in the same manner by which he arrived, back
stooped and the gentle tapping of his staff leading the way out into the
cold.





Writer: Rasavadi
Date Mon Nov 20 16:55:01 2017

To Jossaryne Shadow Verminasia Conclave Imm RP All Drakkara Necrucifer

Subject A Summons Answered



Battle whirled All around him. Rasavadi had engaged the entirety of the
Vallens, again. Tucking down behind his shield he traded blows with far too
many and called upon the Dark Lady's blessings of lightning.

A voice was then barely audible in the din and focus of battle. "Do you
follow God or the Mistress?" A females voice. Still dodging, attacking,
and imparting the Dark Lady's blessings upon his foes he formulated his
answer. "Necrucifer through the Dark Lady."

"We need you in the Temple on Sabre Street." Was the voices response.
"hrm, the Warder Jossaryne I believe" he thought to himself as he disengaged
from the fray and returned to Verminasia.

Making his way down Sabre Street, to a temple he knew he could not enter, he
came across a summoning circle. "Great, it seems these idiots are starting
to get their act together." Peering to the south he spotted a rather large
black skinned demon, "I cannot enter, lead it outside." He relayed back to
the Warder.

In truth it was probably a few seconds, but waiting seemed like an eternity
until the Storm Knights and Riordan finally spilled out into the streets.
"Demon, come out!" Rasavadi taunted, and it answered in spades. War raged
as Reorhx joined the fray through Sabre Street, alleyways, and a good third
of the merchant district. Blade, magic, and a whirl of the demons blows and
wings turned cart, and person to ash.

Finally, Reorhx cast the defining blow, and exiled the demon back to whence
it came.

The traitor had been identified, and suspicions confirmed however. "Death
will rain, traitor."




Writer: Jossaryne
Date Wed Nov 22 01:06:04 2017




Writer: Ithelim
Date Wed Nov 22 16:22:06 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Wed Nov 22 19:51:53 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sat Nov 25 15:53:09 2017




Writer: Symantha
Date Sun Nov 26 17:54:58 2017

To All Shadow Verminasia ( Necrucifer Religion Imm RP Ampersand )

Subject The Apostate's Ritual: Reflection


She knew exhaustion.

She had waited among the condemned Knights years ago. For three days they
all sat at the altar, for three days they had gazed at the walls and the
statue and the altar itself, awaiting judgment. Knowing that the hammer of
punishment was yet to descend.

She had spent those three days before the Exile moving between the injured
and the despondent. The Dark Lord had lain comatose and fevered. The Elder
had sat in relative silence, his burns so extensive that she and two other
clerics had rotated to maintain healing. Even the Lord Templar had taken
burns of hellfire.

There'd been no rest for her, or any of them, and as she stood by the altar
in her temple, she reflected on the depths of that past experience.

In many ways, it and what followed had prepared her better than just about
any other occurrence in her life and it had left an indelible mark on her
memory. As well as a fervor to pass along what she had learned, what she
-knew- without a doubt to others, lest they make the same mistakes.

So far, despite her written and spoken word, she'd only managed to make that
mark on a few over the years. She watched the Knights intermittently, as
they All moved resolutely about the temple, cleaning the mess left behind by
the apostate - a man who had walked practically at the side of greatness and
failed to learn some of the most important lessons that experience should
have passed along.

How many more would need to fall before awareness of the truth took root?

She closed her eyes and the hellfire that had engulfed the apostate
rekindled in her memory, the screams of the man resonating through the
ruined chamber. There was vindication in that but the serious nature of
what the man had very nearly accomplished was a concern not soon to be
forgotten.

The many had, at times, paid for the sins of a few - though never without
necessity.

The temple floor was nearly finished, though it would need a bit more work
before it regained its luster. She considered this as she opened her eyes
to gaze upon the tiles and then she moved resolutely to apply herself to the
task.




Writer: Elathan

Date Sun Nov 26 18:11:05 2017




Writer: Carleigh
Date Tue Nov 28 19:25:35 2017




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Nov 28 22:33:44 2017




Writer: Maccus
Date Wed Nov 29 04:26:18 2017




Writer: Jossaryne
Date Wed Nov 29 09:12:07 2017




Writer: Carleigh
Date Wed Nov 29 21:08:06 2017




Writer: Jossaryne
Date Thu Nov 30 11:32:41 2017

To All Shadow Verminasia Necrucifer Imm Roleplay

Subject Ghosts of Why



Bright wispy strands of fiery red hair whipped around the young girl's
face as she hunkered down in one of the empty stalls in the stable. She
cringed and squeezed her eyes shut as the shouts and sounds of things being
thrown grew louder and closer to her hiding spot.

The horses in the nearby stalls were frantic, restlessly moving in their
stalls and neighing nervously. Some of them kicked at the walls and gates,
trying to break free. This chaos.. This disarray and panic was what
followed her father's wake. It ceased only when he slept or when his mood
was jovial and only one of those occurred regularly.

Over the years it had only continued to get worse, her brother had left when
he could take no more. How it was possible that it had made the old man
even worse, she did not know but it had. She placed no blame upon her
brother for leaving, her time would come as well. Patience.

For now she relied on her faith and in those moments when the chaos became
too much to bear, she would lean upon it heavily. Clutching a symbol of God
in her hands, she'd tuck herself into the corner of the stall, squeeze her
eyes shut and pray. Sometimes her hiding spot would be found but she got
better at disappearing.

Over the years, Joss learned to pick up the pieces each time and put them
all back together. She'd calm the horses, repair the damage to the stalls
and clean up the mess that her father left in his wake. The chaos, hate and
abuse had been taking its toll though.

Why Storm? What was it she hoped to accomplish by serving? Joss' answer
was simple. She believed with every part of her being that God would make
the world a better place, that He would put an end to the strife, to war,
hunger, homelessness. No more chaos, just order and peace. She simply
hoped to say that she helped bring about a better world and so she served in
whatever capacity that was needed. The ghosts of her past were a constant
reminder of why.




Writer: Maccus
Date Fri Dec 1 04:33:26 2017




Writer: Ithelim
Date Sat Dec 2 09:20:21 2017




Writer: Mezlak
Date Sat Dec 2 22:30:46 2017

To Mahazi Marauders All ( Raije Imm RP Religion Tahsio )

Subject Repaying an Honor - Sending the Blood



Thus the blade returns to serve again, for as long as the fight is
needed.

As Mezlak finished writing the orders, he turned to pick up the sheathed
katana from its place on the display rack. As he held it, his mind went
back to his time his old mercenary company served a minor Shokonese lord.
Mezlak had been given the old family heirloom for service he rendered the
lord.

Now the old lord, hed certainly be old by now, had sent a request for help.
Not from the Marauders specifically, but from Mezlak. However with the
situation in the Fort, Mezlak was unable to go himself, no matter how much
he wanted.

As the messenger entered, Mezlak turned to deliver his instructions to the
messenger. The old man hadnt mentioned the trouble, or what he needed extra
men for. It mattered not, though. He had honored Mezlak once with the
sword, and Mezlak had promised to return when needed because of that honor.


Give these orders to Commander Mahazi. Hes to take a detachment to Shokono.
The details that I know are in the orders. Hes to serve the Lord as he
would me. Tell him I recommend he take some of the newer troops to get them
some deployment experience, because its likely this will be nothing more
than a show of force for the old man.
That had been pretty much the extent
of his companys roll last time. The ambush that had lead to Mezlak saving
the Lords life and earning him the heirloom had been the only real fight
encountered.

As the messenger saluted and left, Mezlak turned to look at the empty
display rack and reminisce about younger days.




Writer: Maccus
Date Sun Dec 3 10:29:29 2017

To All Fatale (Religion RP)

Subject His first prayers.



The mans weapons swayed at his hips as he approaches the altar, the burns on his biceps fresh, gruesome and ugly, the tattoos that were once there gone. The man tipped his head in respect to the priests before getting on his knees to pray at the altar. Removing his helmet and placing at his side he runs his hand through his hair before clasping them infront of him, beginning to pray.

'Oh God of Murder, Fatale...listen to these words as I pray them onto thee. I, Maccus Stormbound, have denounced Raije, his Marauders and All claims he had onto that past. Here me, as I pray, Lord Fatale for I seek you, your religion and your aid. I am a sword, who seeks to be sharpened by your cause, thrust into the hearts of the weak.'

'Death is patient, for it comes for us all. He does not care who we are, what we do and who we see, he holds no prejudice, no favortisim in any. Death is patient, it will wait for us All to reach our end, gods and mortals All meet their end. O' Lord of Murder, I pray to you that you assist me in my learning of patience.'

He continues kneeling, repeating what he has said once more. Finally, he picks up his helmet and places it back on his head. Coming up from his knees he whispers once, 'Fatale be praised'. Then once again louder, 'Fatale be praised'. Before finally nodding, seemingly amused with the way it rolled off his tongue. He turns around and begins to walk away from the alter, and prepares for his next prayer.




Writer: Cesaus

Date Sun Dec 3 16:56:17 2017




Writer: Reklah

Date Sun Dec 3 17:22:44 2017

To Crelius Rochford ( All )

Subject Conceptualization of Time Travel



The mind manifest from the mantonicism is a kaleidoscope of diverging and
converging thoughts of the deepest depths of the Sh'lanira Belian. I have
lived hundreds of years, through the Purist War, and yet time is fluid to me
now. The gnomish theories on time travel are something I better understand
despite their inferior physical constitutions. I now concede to its
possibility and would augure that were the human race able to drive the
gnomes into encampments under forced intellectual labor, we may yet build
such a machine. I remember standing in the void with Staldrache the Steel
and watching Algoron spin gently like the rotating wheels in Gahboom.

The possibilities would be endless and this is something I would posit you,
Rochford the Black. Imagine if we were able to return to the Battle of the
Red Moon and ensure Nadrik's execution, or prevent Gunnar Draugrbane from
the great sacrifice to the rift that resurrected Milek.

Time could be used as the tool with which we murder the Weaklings. Had I
the opportunity to bring the Hemskoen to pierce the hearts of All the
bastions which staunched the inevitability of Finality, perhaps I might feel
again.


- written in the journal of Reklah Kayen, addressed to Rochford the Black




Writer: Kabal
Date Sun Dec 3 21:10:04 2017




Writer: Maccus
Date Mon Dec 4 02:36:44 2017

To All Fatale (Imm Religion RP)

Subject His second prayers



The man walks back in again, the sun completely down and the priests all
asleep. He continues walking, candle in hand towards the altar, he looks
prepared and ready for what is to come next. He takes his candle and begins
lighting several others giving himself some light as he kneels down once
more in front of the altar removing his helmet once more. He clasps his
hands infront of him and closes his eyes, beginning his prayer once more.

'Lord Fatale, I come before you once again in prayer, but this time with
sacrifice. Raije has taken my right arm, making it weak, almost unusable
save for the smallest of actions. My chest bruised and battered from his
punishment, for I have been shunned. Fatale, in sacrifice to you, as you do
ask from time, I offer you my left arm, to take, use or guide in the coming
times. It seems that my abandoning of Raije has stirred trouble throughout
the realm, and those who wish to see me dead are strong, and I do not
believe my patience for battle will wait out until you have accepted or
denied me. '

'In death, it must be embraced, for the fear of such a thing is the first
weakness that must be culled. Those who withstand his challenges could be
met with becoming stronger themselves or culled buried under the boots of
time and fate. Death is the only true source of peace, no amount of warring
or conflict will ever come close to the sweet peace death has to offer.
With my enemies numerous and their numbers swelling as time goes on, I will
become the wolf that hunts sheep, the blade to cut into the hearts of the
enemy, ruthless and unforgiving until they have All died. '

'Death is the truest form of enlightenment. For in it we learn what it
truly means to have lived. We move beyond thinking what our lives our worth
but move onto accepting that the darker truth encompasses us all. Hear
these words, Lord Fatale, for they these are your tenets I have taken to
heart'

The man repeats the prayer once again, his right arm trembling as it is held
there in prayer. Beads of sweat begin to drip off his forehead as he
continues to push himself before saying, 'Fatale be praised'. He stands up
slowly, collecting his helmet and blowing All but the candle he had used.
He turns around and begins to leave, preparing his next set of prayers to
the god he wished to serve.




Writer: Cesaus
Date Mon Dec 4 18:45:20 2017




Writer: Lilya
Date Wed Dec 6 00:00:16 2017




Writer: Maccus
Date Wed Dec 6 12:13:34 2017




Writer: Waaagh
Date Wed Dec 6 13:52:36 2017

To All of Chaos and the Gods ( IMM Scorn Kyri Malachive Vanilla_Ice )

Subject {o*A Goblin Builds a Shrine{o*.



A largish & brown skinned goblinoid stepped off a small pirate skiff,
tying the ship to the Tropican port mooring, covered in blackened and ichor
covered platemail, the goblin heaved up a large & full sack, dripping a dark
and brackish-red liquid. Throwing the sack of its shoulders, the goblin
trudged off in the exact direction every sign warned against.

Ponderously, and without taking care for caution, the goblin walked the
afternoon through, watching the sun turn toward setting before he reached
his destination. He admired the beasts of Tropica, turning appreciatively
to the claws and gnashing teeth he could see on the increasingly warped and
twisted forms stalking through the suffocatingly humid jungle. Now he could
understand why the leonine once preferred to hunt these lands, as its game
was plentiful and more than capable of fighting back, would that he could
have been a beast slicing open one of those four-legged and two armed freaks
in half.

Aside from the large sack it carried, the goblin had various horns, large
hands, eyeballs, scalps, and even white feathered wings tied around its
previous triumphs as a physical proof of the goblins strength. In their own
right, the goblin was a big game hunter, hunting beasts and humanoids alike,
the bigger the kill the stronger the hunter. The goblin had artefacts and
remnants from creatures of hellish, holy and divine origin, as well as the
ears of every major clan leader the realm has fielded.

However, the goblin was also clearly marked. It had the scent of those
shunned by the gods, an odor that was neither physical nor perceptible to
the nose. Rather it was an aura that emanates a blankness, a void of soul,
repulsing sentient and non-sentient creatures alike.

The goblin did not care. Its purpose was grander than coveting the favor of
one foppish god or another, but rather to take the biggest, the meanest, and
the strongest trophy of them all.

He dumped the contents of his sack onto the ground and began assembling the
various species of pirate heads into a pattern. The goblin was lucky to
board such a diverse cast of characters, the pirates were a decent lot,
vicious hunters, but despicable and weak for All their bravado. To the
goblin, the pirates were bottom feeder who could only muster the strength to
attack weak and limp armed Althanian frigates or Verminisian pleasure boats.
They were no threat to anyone but themselves, so it was with some glee the
goblin slaughtered them wholesale shortly before landfall.

An expansive pile of freshly severed and uncleaned heads began decomposing
into the jungles clearing, shaped into a rigid line forming the emblematic
8-pointed star of Chaos. Slicing his right hand deeply with a parrying
dagger, he splashed his greenish blood on to each head, silently thinking of
the names of the monstrosities and beasts he had slayed to this point.

The goblin looked down to the half-shattered talisman of Turpa, still
dangling around its neck, and with a small sub-conscious reticence, withdrew
it from his neck and painfully crushed it within his hands.

When his job was finished, and with prodigious amounts of his life essence
mixed into its structure, the goblin stripped off his armor and gear,
setting it aside, and walked into the center of Chaos.




Writer: XiaXia

Date Thu Dec 7 14:56:45 2017

To All ( Taliena Imm Rp Religion )

Subject The Blossoming of the Vallens



XiaXia collapsed into one of the resting pads with a giant "huff". It
had been a truly exhausting week.

There had been an enormous surge of new elves joining Fray and it seemed as
if they were All coming to her for recruitment. She was on a roll! Elva
had mentioned in passing that perhaps her notes and sermons were having an
effect-- she liked to think so. It was a honour to guide new individuals,
and she was happy to do it. With each new elf, the strength of the Fray
increased. There were more people to protect and be protected by, more
teamwork in the hall and on the field, more individuals to get to know and
to befriend. More Love.

The population was blossoming in the Vallens, and it was a truly beautiful
thing.

She let her eyes close for a moment, but only just a moment. There was so
much to still be done today. With the influx of recruits, her
responsibilities as a Priest of the Vallens increased. She took it upon
herself to make sure that any elf residing in the Vallens who was in the
process of training was to be blessed, spelled, and kept healed as long as
she was around. Her love for her people insisted upon this-- their
happiness and safety was always a priority.

Her eyes shot open as a message reached her telepathically. "Excuse me
Regent, I was wondering if I could join my cousins in the Fray? " Duty
called.

However, this was not her only priority. Having recently gained the rank of
Bishop within Talienas church, she had begun to scout locations for a temple
to honor the Goddess of Love and Happiness. King Talyariel had already
approved her building within the walls of the Shalonesti kingdom. Plans and
designs were underway. The temple must be perfect, beautiful, a work of
art, and the process of getting everything flawless would take ample time
attention.

With the rush of recruiting, the duties to her clan mates, and her plans for
the temple, it was All she could do to keep up with her daily prayers to
Taliena and she was embarrassed to admit, she was beginning to miss days.
She knew Lady Taliena would understand, however, because her duties here on
the mortal plane were bountiful and important. She was needed, she was
loved, and she was spreading the warmth of Talienas grace in All the ways
she knew how.




Writer: Lilya

Date Sat Dec 9 00:49:17 2017




Writer: Ayrora

Date Sat Dec 9 12:06:42 2017

To All Verminasia ( RP Immortal Religion Drakkara )

Subject A Day of Reflection



Ayrora walked along the orchard as she had done many times as a child but
much less now with her many responsibilities to Verminasia, the High Church,
and especially too the Dark Mistress. She knew not too far behind were were
the guards but she was finally growing accustomed to them. She was always
observant as a child and as she grew it had stuck with her.

She continued walking along the trees and pondering the points that Legion
had said to her. She had always been more of the quiet type so she found
opening a conversation to be a bit unnerving but she promised to work on it.


A few hours had passed and she headed back to the manor. Time to get ready
to head to the city and start her work there. She dismissed the guards and
they All returned to their posts.





Writer: Lilya
Date Mon Dec 11 00:37:58 2017




Writer: Lilya
Date Mon Dec 11 00:41:04 2017



 


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