It has come to our attention that the rogue outcasts for lesser Vampyrs have gone back to mildly inconveniencing civilizations. Yet, their danger continues to grow as one of these vermin attempted harm upon a citizen of the Queendom of Serheim unknowingly. And attempted harm upon children.

Let this be not only a warning, but a declaration. To purge rogue lesser Vampyrs.

All lesser Vampyrs who are not with the Queendom of Serheim, or any of its allied groups, will be hunted down.

To the Vampyrs in an organized group or court recognized by the Queendom: You will not be harmed
The covenless & rogue Lessers looking to be exempt from this will have to visit the Queendom of Serheim and prove themselves worthy of citizenship.

The rest are to be butchered.


To the public:
If you have any leads on rogue troublemaking lesser Vampyrs, send a bird directly to the Queen Eira herself. (OOC: Diogenerate - One)
And only birds. Those who trespass are killed on sight.

*These events are not public knowledge*

Cold, something the man had grown accustomed to, yet the stance he took upon that edge only brought further chills. His gaze resting upon that pool of endless night, expecting some sort of shove and push. Yet, that was not what occurred, at least not yet. It was the feeling of his flesh being torn open, the sharp sting that accompanied the feeling of ichor dripping down, that awakened the man from his cold induced stupor. His day-dreaming, pulled back, as the words where ushered into his ear. 

"See you soon, acolyte" 

Those words, something he should have taken into further consideration, before he felt the sharp sting and then darkness. What was to come next, only brought onto him, sights that the mundane mind could only bear so much of. His arms, that which had been flayed recently in testament to the ways of old. Continued to stretch out, as pain unlike any other, began to writhe and fester in his body. His eyes looked about that dominion of ruin, only to come across the further horrific sights of what was to be and become. The dunes rose high, as rivers of sanguine graced the landscape below him. He was upon a precipice, not of stone and rock, rather of gnarled oak and ash. His posture, forced to kneel, his arms splayed to either side of him as he felt his legs begin to merge with that molten ash. His flesh burning asunder, causing him to sink and scream. A primal emotion claimed his stomach, one of fear and shock, as his arms began to further stretch out. His gaze, forced to watch the torturous expanse that he had been sent to. Vultures flew and roamed, devouring upon the carrion and dead. Those still functioning, dragged along, in lines and rows. Manacles of flame, wrapped around such entities, as they dragged on. An eternal damnation to those that toiled in these banks unchecked. 

Something cracked, the sound of something breaking and snapping heard, before it was felt. To his horror, did his gaze come to regard his limbs, a scream of pain erupting from his marred maw. Yet silence was the only thing to grace ripped ears, a silent voice, amidst the choir and litanies of wails from the damned. His form further sunk into the oak and ash, the feeling of his body, being torn asunder rushing into his mind. The constant tug and pull from those flesh wrought chains, goading him into an attempt to remain, as servant to this abyssal realm. His gaze looked up, towards the sky, where clouds should bear overhead. Yet all that graced his bloodied vision, was the spiraling roots of that great black oak. Descending down, and stretching across the horizon, having long claimed this place. Or so he thought, his mind too wracked in pain to truly comprehend what all was happening, as he sunk further into the column. The last thing to submerge, being those pale digits of his. The limbs by that point, stripped of all their skin and flesh, leaving naught but bone and pain. 

Darkness consumed him, his mind, his body. For what felt like months, years even. Yet it was upon that pinprick of feeling, the numbness that had succumbed to his digits, slowly failing as he pressed against something, that he began to crawl and dig. Like that of the dead, who rose to claim freedom from their wooden coffins, so did the man arise. Breaking and bursting free, the warm trickle of red, flowing from his body as he began to rise from the mound of bloodied gore. Skin having long since paled in the dark, bags hanging heavy in his eyes. What had felt like three decades of endless pain, numbness, and nothingness. 

Being naught but three full minutes

Once a name, bound to one face.

And his boots made crunch, the icy soil beneath.

There travelled he, all alone.

To seek an out, of mortal coil.

There wandered he alone.

Two did know, where he would dwell.

For seven days and six nights.

To banish from his Soul, the past.

And embrace his Sin instead.

Once a name lost, found once more.

His boots brought him where he had never been before. Far in the North, his measly robes, protected him so little. His hands were cold, his face torn up. The cold tore at his chest. Then find he did, a winter top, in barren land of snow. He sat and crossed his legs.

Then did the wolves howl, but he heard them not. 

Because his mind wandered elsewhere, to GOD.

The past clung to him, like his frozen flesh. The sapphires of olden caves, blue like his frozen lips. What once was, closed like his eyes. 

His name rang true.

There he saw, though no light shone, what he had seen before.

The tale of what was to come, the tale his mind once bore.

His name returned, carved into Soul, like chisel into stone.

He was no longer the same man, had no longer the same home.

Now would his fingers blacken, after red, white and blue. 

He started humming slowly, until his fingers looked like bone.

His humming would commence, a melancholic tone.

A fire would forever burn.

The ash would burn again.

His eyes sewn shut, but he saw more than before.

It was this journey upon which he had set out. It had, like many such journeys, given him insights he had not had before. But this time was different. His fire was extinguished and his supplies had run out. It was what he had seen before his departure, something that had impressed him greatly. Many things had he learned those days, not so long ago. It was this journey he was told to set out on which allowed him to connect the dots. He was and wasn't himself. He had once been someone, a shadow of himself. Perhaps it did not matter, he would soon find out. 

He packed his things, heading home. Near mercantile roads, he would fall. His mind enlightened, his body nearly broken.

BY EVANGELINE ECLIPSE

[!] Remember not to metagame anything here! The information is limited to only those who have access to the Queendom, or those in any of the allied Covens

SYNOPSIS

"As history suggests, order breeds success even in darkness. The Coven stands stronger than ever before, yet without much structure. Members new and old pass through old ruins for knowledge, but who shall they seek? Who shall lead the hungry to food? This passage is meant to provide a path for those hungry for knowledge as I was when I first arrived. A proper structure to give all a chance to add their ingredient to the bubbling stew, while keeping it all within the pot for the group to enjoy. We are stronger together, and as one we shall prevail against the maleficar.”

 - Evangeline Eclipse

GOAL

The current world exists with many cruelties disguised as blessings. Misguided souls that devote their lives to their gods and goddesses in search of salvation commit heinous crimes against the common man in their daily lives. Injustice runs rampant within the lands of Almaris, so much so that most would rather stand by and allow the world to burn around them. Such a path to damnation cannot be allowed to continue, and it is the role of the Coven to show the lost sheep the ways of Xion. With a primary goal of ridding the plane of deific clutches, the wielders of forbidden arts and creatures of the night rise together to see this world realized within their lifetime…

Most groups of the occult wish for the same world, yet with varying practices and beliefs that somewhat conflict with those of Xion. However, a significant movement is being pushed within the Coven to bring all forms of dark worshippers together and forge a united front. Many believe this to be the only way the goal of destroying the deific could be achieved, but such has never been accomplished before. This movement serves as the driving force for the Coven’s interactions with other groups such as the Sisterhood of Xion, the Fifth Synod, the Spiritualists of Dark, and the Brotherhood of Aemesh, so that they may one day achieve a mutual standing as allies against the maleficar.

PRIMARY

• To spread the beliefs of Xionism throughout the realm, guiding those lost onto a proper path.

• To foster those that take teachings of Xion to heart, and uplift them to better support the cause.

• To punish the ignorant and stubborn that refuse the teachings, and seek our destruction.

• To bring about a world without deific influence.

• To spread the influence of the Queendom, and launch the Empire on a quest of freeing Mankind and provide equality for all.

   

SECONDARY

• To unite the forces of Xion under one banner to bring peace amongst our kind.

• To master the forbidden arts of darkness that will aid us in our task.

• To protect the knowledge of Xion and its similar religions & denominations, and ensure their development.

• To further the Queendom both in magic and technology, in order to provide the necessary tools to slay Deities.

HIERARCHY

Proper structure is imperative to success, as even the likes of bandits and vagabonds have some modicum of order within their ranks. The Coven, being led by a Queen and her council, works as an organized clan with true purpose behind their motives. Loyalty is of utmost importance, and should such be challenged, the offender shall be dealt a true hand of justice. A well oiled machine has no room for faulty parts, so the fallen have no home within the coven. Those that do prove loyal will find themselves amongst the finest warriors, witches, and strategists that Xion has to offer. Fighting with a fierceness under the guidance of The Tower, no foe shall prove too mighty, nor light too bright for the Coven to squash underfoot.

THE COUNCIL

✦❘༻ Queen - Eira, The Tower

✦❘༻ High Priestess - Yathnz

✦❘༻ Advisor - the name has been scratched out

✦❘༻ Princesses - Khione, Lithren, Persephone
 

THE PRIESTS & PRIESTESSES

༻ Priests - Alaric, Astark, Ludwig

THEMATICS

Credits: Kreme, Fooldude, Diogen, _Leyd, Mordhaund

Depictions of the blighted and corrupted land beyond the walls

[!] Do not metagame this information!

After the battle that transpired, the forces of the Dark immediately get back to work.

Agnes, or rather, commonly known as Queen Eira of Serheim, stands atop the platform within the square, arms extended towards the massive following. The citizens of Serheim. The followers of Xion.
An arm extended upwards, within what are now the ruins of an old city.

"Far too long have we allowed Xannists to tread on this land. To co-exist with us in Almaris. We shall slay the followers of the Aengudaemons- the FALSE GODS. Xannists. Aspectists. All those who dare silence us of our freedom. To break away from the chains placed by us by these deities. For that is GOD that we follow, and from GOD himself have we been granted this win. They have been warned. We critically wounded them. We destroyed their horses, forced them to retreat."

The Age of Dark has begun.

The blighted lands continue only to grow. the temperature within the entire area drastically lowering. Hexed. Cursed. A violent snowstorm soon begins to envelop the Queendom, the mere habitat of the Queendom itself making it terrible to get any closer to. A warning to all those who dare trespass onto the land.
Behind the thick layer of the harsh storm, behind the walls of Serheim, loud sounds of chanting witches, and the clanking of metals would be heard. Hammering, pounding, stomping, the fortifications of the soon-to-be Fortress have already begun.
 

The Queendom of Serheim
The first pillar of light on Almaris. To those of Xion.
Together they stand, on a crusade against all those of the Aengudaemons.



OOC:

[x]

Lanky figures dressed in moon-colored robes of fine silk roamed throughout the queendom whose wield torches and mundane instruments to carve stones and the like for they were doing untold deeds; they were shattering doors of abandoned buildings to carve symbols of the moon and sun clashing against each other in a peaceful fashion. This peaceful fashion, however, was not included in what they were doing since they vandalized the entire kingdom to show off their mighty creed. Torches also burned certain wooden objects or houses under the veil of night and moonlight. Thus, the new way's influence spread loudly and violently -- it wasn't clear who these individuals were since they could be allies, enemies, or simply maddened crusaders. It may, however, be necessary for those of the aforementioned queendom to investigate.