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[PK] Ascension Denied

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TheWyrdWolf

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An Adunian shepherd had arrived late that fateful day. Entering through the open gates of the Cathedral, its halls were filled with people. To see those sorrowful events unfold would forever remain with him in memory, for this was the writing of history. Unaware of the exact happenings, he too had drawn his sword, yet the outcome had already been set in stone. 

 

He pondered on the Astark he had gotten to know, albeit briefly. On how the chaotic ordeal with Murkwater might make more sense now. He seemed sorry still, for the price of falling to the Old Dark had been paid dearly...

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Reverberations of terror and excitement gnawed at the scrambled thoughts of the renewed Herald. The sister it had called 'heretic' was no more... And yet, Azazel mourned its fellow Dead, and what might have been.

 

Spoiler

No ascension, denied.


I'd like to take a moment to highlight the good faith and attitudes of those involved in this, especially White Wolf. Very often spirits can run high during conflict, especially our magical equivalent to a civil war. Character bleed is an unfortunately common occurance and I'm sure we've all seen it play out before where the loss (or pursuit) of a storied character has blurred the lines between IC and OOC for those involved and am delighted at how plainly that has not been the case here.

Thank you WhiteWolf for your time in our community and the stories you provided with this character as well as your historic efforts at shouldering the mantle of leadership for our group, irrespective of our in-universe differences. 

This was a nicely paced, dramatic and narratively rich series of events that will doubtless inform the future of the Synod and Xionism. Thank you for being a part of it.

 

Vorztrok will be remembered, as will Astark.


 

 

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Bathed in alien light, the transcendent dead wept. 

 

How could you?

Spoiler

i love you white wolf........................ tysm so much for the rp you've provided all these years !!!! its really been a blessing having u as my fellow barrowlord <3333

 

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HD-wallpaper-holy-knight-holy-night.jpg

 

holy templar, in her pursuit of hunting for the greater good, remembered the times of Astark. The hate she felt regarding the tyrannical wight and how such a spectral beast brought pain upon many. Now that she was strong, she desired to face that wight more than ever, but alas, her revenge had been stolen from her. Astark had fallen, and not by her hand. A regret that will forever be a burden on her heart and mind. Nonetheless, the Templar shall fear no more the dreadful Barrowlord. While without the delight of revenge, she was free from her chaining nightmares.

Spoiler

It's sad to see Astark go. You were always fair with me both in situation IC that could've been problematic. It's rare to see a player like you, Wolf. You always upheld IC and made many interactions fun. I hope I will be able to rp with you more one day with other characters, and thanks for evolving me with your rp in the past. I wasn't an important part in Astark's story but they were for sure in my character's!!

 

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In the eyes of a Witch, a grave crime was committed, a fragmented and fragile mind already battered with loss could only see one thing.. 
The kindling was already laid so eagerly by all..

 

She saw a world, burning..

Such an intoxicating sight for her, that rot was cleansed in radiant and purifying light.

"Let them reap what they've sown." she rasps out

 

 

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A ranger, stranger to both parties involved recieves a letter about the destruction of the would-be God's phylactery. Lockpicks are placed back, to collect dust, and more letters are sent out to the would-be team of godkillers.

 

One question, reminds on his mind;

"What drove them to this?"

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A demon ponders the words of its former book bound. Ripples echo, and the demon occasionally stares into the city of ectoplasm. No further threats came from them. The Gold Lich did not show itself now. The thoughts keep returning to the better of the liches. 

 

"Ate Xionism, Killed Delmar. Celia'nor next."

 

Now they cling to shadows. The Inferis watches the Ectomancers rip themselves apart. 

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Once, the sheer name of Astark summoned a turmoil.

Once, it was a sheen of dread. A forlorn helplessness. 

Once, a twinge of hope. An alluring promise.

Once, an acrid spite. A livid thought. 

 

A certain creature reminisced on times foregone.

 

But now all of it was gone. In the end, their wishes coincided. Only methods were far apart.

In the end, they both fought for a common cause, against a common enemy.

 

Her mind was sodden with sorrow. A sadness of another fallen, condemned to suffering eternal. 

She mustered nor a boastful toast in her demise, nor a weeping lament. 

 

There was only silence.

 

 

Spoiler

Thank you for playing that character and being very chill OOCly at every step! :3 Astark has left a remarkable mark both in annals of history and on one of my characters. She will not be forgotten

 

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"Voztrok.."

 

"Voztrok.."

 

"Voztrok!"

 

The cries of Valindra pierced through the veil, yet were met with only silence. The occultist slumped to her knees, tears readily streaming down her cheeks, and her head bowing in defeat. It had been done. A wight among her most loyal of friends consigned to oblivion and eternal damnation. Yet another thing the 'aheral treasured so dearly ripped from her. Another loss so great, it was felt within her very soul.  Her form hunched and her chest heaved. This one, yes... This one hurt.

 

Clutching a tricorn in either hand, one clearly loved and worn from use, and the other just finished, the pale occultist reflected on times shared; how they had crossed paths during the days of Serheim and Ivarielle's ascension, where the wight had stood loyally at her side. Valindra knew not of her destiny then, and had only just started to open her eyes to the Immortal Sins.  Times seemed to much simpler then..

 

The undertaking of the mortal burden was something Valindra never thought herself worthy of, yet on the floors of the Court of Salvation, her soul was torn, and merged anew.  She had been granted that which she had been lacking for centuries; purpose. And a purpose only granted again when Astark deemed her worthy of crossing the bridge between worlds.  As the Court merged with the Synod, Valindra's power grew. She stood before Mordring himself, with Astark to her flank. Entering as The Mistwarden, yet leaving as Barrowlord Fornotos. 

 

"You made me. Please, do not go."

 

The elf begged into the sea of gheists she stared into, one of her own mind's creation, a fathomless pit of neverending torment for those the Caretaker deemed 'unworthy'. Alas, no response came, and her pleas fell on deaf ears. Burdened now by a grief who's strength she'd never known  until now, the 'aheral rose to her feet, recalling the parting words of the former Barrowlord.

 

"My gheists are in your charge. Do not endanger yourself to protect me."

 

Voztrok's orders were clear, yet the magus's footing wavered, and she found her knees hitting the cold stone floor anew, a truly harrowing wail escaping her, or rather all of her maws. A grief shared between three souls harboring one body. For now, duty could wait. It was time to mourn.

 

While Astark had been a traitor to the faith she'd once fronted, she was still a friend, and in her eyes undeserving of an eternity under an Immortal's grasp; it was something she would only wish upon her worst of enemies.

 

Spoiler

Woah, this has been an emotional post to respond to. Astark has been a part of the roleplay scene for so long it's almost surreal to see her go. I've never once had an rp encounter with wolf on any of their personas or events that I've not once enjoyed.

 

That being said, I'd like to thank you wolf. Because of you and Astark, I got into a community I never would've been able to without your help, and it has been one of the most enjoyable arcs I've had on the server. Your good-faith approach and openness to interact with all players sets a shining example to all LOTCers on how to construct a narrative properly ic and oocly as well as how to behave.

 

Astark will 1000% be missed, as they had an impact on so many characters out there, though I look forward to seeing what you do next and highkey envy whichever group you next join.

 

It's been a hell of a ride, thank you.

 

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The Pale Lord by the name of Razaak, not seen for quite some time now, was still around... Somewhere. His place in existence mattered not for in this moment, the Pale Lord let out a titanic roar up into the heavens, stood on this mountain peak in the middle of nowhere. The mountain shook from the roar, snow falling down the peak and slowly turning into an avalanche the further down the mountain one went.

 

Vorztrok's final death, echoed  within the confines of the Lord's stony mind, between the spikes of the crown he adorned, as wisps and fractured pieces of memories now jolted out from the Crown. A new barrage of Remnants of Old that circled the entire being that was Razaak. Mercilessly did the wisps torture the King with distant and distorted voices of Vorztrok, discussing plans... Telling tales... Showing gratitude... "Your contribution is much appreciated, Obediah. Both of you," Spoke the voice of Vorztrok to seemingly the Lord and... One other that was also very distant in the Lord's fractured mind. The other being was not the main focus, however, as the Lord then looked forth, outward the open gape beneath him atop this mountain. A chilling breeze brushed over the stone of which made up Razaak's form before continuing outward the peak. With it, a voice traveled away, into oblivion, never to be heard again.

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