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At the Witching Hour


femurlord
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AT THE WITCHING HOUR

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In the South Western Swamps, the light grew to its dimmest, inspiring the wildlife a final cry as the Witching Hour descended upon the land, inspiring a haunting transformation. The sea belched black and brackish waters grew a vibrant, neon green-blue, creating an ominous glow over the land. And as the moon became obscured by the clouds, the dead walked again in forms ethereal, and now, rotting. 

 

Congregating in droves, wayward and explorers noted these apparitions to shift through thickets of root and mud, occupying a land overripe with life betrayed only by a dis featured and demonic shrine of shrieking mouths sat in the middle of this oasis. A calloused land of opposing influences, infernal and heavenly.

 

As the lifeless fell in prayer and worship around this temple in mindless devotion the air erupted with whispers that urged sacrifice for gain,the ground itself pulsing with a sickly heartbeat, and eyes felt upon you. To those that linger long enough, they too were regarded by the baleful breeze.

 

What was this place?

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Spoiler

Hello,

 

Starting the New Year, us at the official Evil Incorporated Headquarters wanted to open our rosters again. 

 

We are seeking people willing to drive narrative and maintain a character rather than obtaining a side piece in their magic roster. Our group mainly focuses on conflict and bringing it about, existing in a flow of give or take for the collective story.

 

Come into this not for the gain of an MA, but to expand the broader server story as a whole, the cool magic is a perk that is earned.

 

[PM femurlord to interact, if you find this site.]

[DISCORD: thebestdavid)

 

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"I wish I were a witching witch. But now I'm just a watching witch. Watching other witches witching. Wishing I could be bewitching. But it's sad to tell. I can't recall one mystic verse, or brew one poison - even worse . . . I cannot chant a deadly curse or cast a magic spell! I can't turn Ferries into frogs, or turn Haense children into hogs. I used to long ago, but now I seem to have forgotten how." chimes Gene from the Zoo.

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“Oh boy three am!” Daal said as he laid in a puddle of his own vomit a shoe print still on the back of his head

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Spoiler

WITCHING HOUR? WITCH? WITCH? WITCH? WITCH?WITHC?WITCHW?TICHWTICHWTIHCW?THCIWTHC?WTIHCW??THCWITHC

 

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