Jump to content

[Trade] A Most Damned Relic to Be Bestowed


_Sug
 Share

Recommended Posts

image.png.9bc1e69198b2bef29f46484b27063b95.png

tumblr_neqwxkOlkU1tv3g49o1_500.jpg

To Those Wicked Enough to Find Interest In This Item,

     First, allow me to begin with introductions. I am a man creatin of the Old Times, one who once walked the realms of Athera as something not living nor truly dead, servant to the Deceiver or Betrayer as he has come to be known within the current times and vocabulary. While many of you are not old enough to remember nor believe in his existence, I am one of the last few whom have had conversation and spent time with the Dark One for now he remains dormant within his abyssal cage. I can attest to you, the reader of this message, that he is in fact very real. After his defeat at the hands of mortal-kind those of his children left within the realm were reverted to their living forms to die and be hunted by the masses they once slaughtered like pigs. Some of us have endured, even less of us have the tools used to wipe civilizations of mortal-kin from this plane of existence. I have done things in this life, many things to earn your scorn and hatred, of this I know. Yet, through my time as a Undead Chosen, I have come to hop back and forth between different bastardized forms of immortality, seeking to extend my life as far as I can, be it through necromancy, shade magic, or or other forms of the dark arts, I have reached the pinnacle of most and possessed all known forms of these arts during my time here among you. However, now I find myself to be mortal once more, walking among cretin that I once hated and in truth still despise and see as tools. But, from my past do I come to find my soul split, divided, and corrupted something that can not be saved nor nourished for it yearns to survive in order to avoid the torture of death and landscape of Ebritaes that awaits me.

     I now write this, not to ask for forgiveness, but rid myself of a relic of the Old Dark. Having this damned weapon causes great strain upon my now corporeal existence. I seek someone willing to take this item as their burden, do with it what you may as it has slain and tortured countless. It is one of the last items that was given to Iblees' lords so that they may command the minions of the damned. I will not rid myself of my staff, yet this item is its cousin if you wish to view it that way. Should you seek to possess it, do pen a response to this missive for this gift is not for free and comes at a high price. If you think you've the ability to keep it more safe than I can, it shall find a home within your grasp. If you can locate me after, the trade can be completed. I do not hide who I once was, so if you can find me, simply propose your offer.

 

Signed,

image.png.14c3b6ab63baf8401c3509f046654580.png

 Undead Lord of Iblees' Chaos Sect, Barrowlord of the Drowned, Daeva of Old, Necromancer of Xion

 

 

 

 

 

If you wish to do so over discord to prevent meta-gaming: Sug#4795

Spoiler of the Item:

51ce5a9cb4e5347854e63e9954667f8f.png

 

 

Edited by _Sug
Link to post
Share on other sites

An elusive 'aheral, shrouded in mauve cloak and apparel hummed to himself upon perusing the cryptic missive. Upon its discernment did a delighted chuckle escape his hollow gaze, which had seen little contentment in recent days.

 

"A relic of the Betrayer... intriguing, truly."

 

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

The short, Grigory Grubb, clad in his vest with buttons, would put forth his proposal in writing. He strikes a witty smile at the parchment, his feet freshly washed in the Bramblebury Bath House, and his breath smelling of mint.  "Well.. Mistah Sperkeh Barrowlord Biggun... prob'leh wit' ter poin'y ears as well. I go' qui' a range of apples t'at ye would fin' very yummeh. I am willin' to negot'ate fer yer spookeh relic t'at I can mehk fewd wit'." Completing his letter, he would stick it to the side of a snail using sticky honey before sending it off with his arms crossed in satisfaction. If the snail somehow found its mark with no instruction, Grigory Grubb would be the happiest man that holds the height of a young human child.

 

Spoiler

image.png.1fdf1eef973ca6089c11ef71cdbe72d8.png

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Varan Atmorice would gaze over the letter, clearly intrigued by the item and where it came disposing of the copy that he had received "Perhaps I should seek this man... I am sure he has lots to say..." he idly commented, pacing on out in search of the man!

Link to post
Share on other sites

Spoiler

A papyrus letter is handed off by courier to the poster as they return to the missive to collect any responses.

 

 

 

 

[DO NOT META-GAME THIS RESPONSE]

 

Symbol2.thumb.png.7a08ca15f735da00caf919a5656a103c.png

 

Linebreak.thumb.png.fa9f37bb4ff49b0a5d6c527bc097aac5.png

 

THALON ALANDRIEL,

Your journey is commendable. I have the very same worries. Life is short, but death is so long. 

 

It is well within my interest to collect this weapon you bear, and I am eager to take its claim. It would do me well -- but perhaps another greater would too take its claim, to do what He would will with it ... Whatever payment you seek will be left for discussion, but it would beseech you to meet with me -- perhaps there is something I have to offer that you would enjoy, that you might find more use of than myself.

 

Write me or find me. I am located in the Silver City of Karinah'siol.

SIGNED,

Ri'Haskir Therkul

Kharajyr High Aelkos & Mane of Pride Therkul, the Herald of Azdromoth & Bearer of Torva-Oth'zin Al

 

[DO NOT META-GAME THIS RESPONSE]

Link to post
Share on other sites

 

Alyssa would look at the letter with slightly widen eyes of shock and horror- then quickly without a single thought the Seregon would throw the notice into the flames, watching the letter burn into the roaring flames for a couple minutes until commenting with a stern tone. "Hell. No. I will NOT- get any demonic shat! No thanks!" After the 'aheral's comment with her stoic expression, she would grab the tea cup in front of her and silently sip it and looking into the beautiful ocean view within the gardens of her home.

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

The eastern winds howled across the desolate shores, sweeping blackened sands into the abysmal horizon that lay beyond. Salt and brine sprayed from the sea, followed by the distinct smell of death and rotten water. A single, tragic soul stood upon the rigid banks, as the waters clashed against the stone in furious churn; a faithful mutt (@altiar1011) standing beside it as loyalty so bound it. The figure stretched their hands over the waters, as the whistling tune of the air carried forth the parchment, which the lord snatched swiftly within their shriveled hand. Followed by a wretched tone, the lord did now speak to the creature at its side:

"What sways this former lord to relinquish this gift?"

"Are his motives straying? His thoughts adrift?"

"No matter! I dare not have this jewel be outbid."

"Now, let us seek out this bygone lord of the dead."

 

Then, having read the memento, the parchment began to rot in the lord's hand; black ash creeping along its surface, before it crumbled, with the dust flying into the bitter wind.  

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

UNTO that bank and shoal of time, carrions beckoned unto their stow, the guile of tide after tide 'lo the very zeniths of cool current. Forsooth, hie their winged effigies flout the skies, fanning the manifold a straits of cerulean unto the horizon cold. It were but one, that challenged this uniform murder; this congregation of doves anointed at pigments an ebony –– a mere one, nary a last other, gawking long about THALON'S air, 'till the apotheosis of its lithe would beget it be moored to the tract of fetid earth then.

NESTLED lowly to the dim breast, thither procured the crow its notice. Per'aps, the very last vestiges for abase tidiness yearned be branded to that particular notice; nor, its presentation sought be any saccharine. It were nary ever furbished of the plight thereof time, for certainly, the livid mark of the yugas whither became litigated unto the device, thus it came to tell;

 

"Hark, LORD THALON, and due partisans [be any there, present];

 

So certainly, we have exchanged word and broken bread under the same threshold, near naught past even a saint's night ago. I will deny naught of the crass greed that serves be my malady, forsooth if ye' wilt hearken closely; what be at your wield avails, thither myself, an absolute necessity –– even shall I smite threescore men, flour unto bread shall break once, and twice, and mayhaps, even thrice more between you and I, if ever need be, if that so equates to my heraldry of this antediluvian phylactery.

 

Surely, death is bound to dawn upon you – as will it, dawn upon myself. Your folk are impotent, on matters of burdening the vestiges of their life –– their legacies, though be the times thereof, so long, and I daresay, perennial –– to the tireless wield of another, by rite of blood. Hie, vanquishment reproaches. And, my knowings surmise you are without the potency either to mould kith of flesh and marrow; be not a fool, to be away with your life, with not begetting its memory unto another.

 

Consider my proposition, and even in death, you shall remain live, and your spirit shall rapt, skipping nary a last beating at the heart.

 

Yours in practice,

Tybis of Man."

 

Spoiler

 

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Aeonn would not respond to the missive of tradeing among such a tainted item. Though he would share it with his kinsmen, for there was a hunt across this land for whoever would bear this item.

Link to post
Share on other sites

0W43xN8KHDHmTkNf4Xk15w1w55dDJz-tXSnCZ3kh_Su0zT7P6AeuAvso4GJ4D2lmJrJDa_n4w15FSlmA0U-jWAi0p3mhVcoD6kBnynWwg_YuJnARcM_h3iucLFz8YBCoVIOLnBj0


Reserved.. 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Trade closed.

Link to post
Share on other sites

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.



×
×
  • Create New...