glassyskies

A set of rusted plates sung the song of march with the news. An enemy in the eye of the Uruk, but a friend at heart. This one sought for pallid elves - namely those unknown and untrusted.

hand it over. my discord is Glassy#2732

why

choose your drums

A one eyed elf gleamed over the missive. His sturdy digits gingerly folded the parchment inward, 'fore tossing it to the desk at the other end of the room. "Must I dress for the occasion..?" Queried Neare, his pallid blue shifting to the soon-to-be crowned, Idril Sylvaeri. "I can wear armor, right?" @JJosey

The mortician gazed over the corpse laid out on the slab before him. The crypts 'neath the church of Jerovitz ran cold that day - with all but one soul lingering in those depths. Corpselike globes drifted from the stitched up cavity of the late Kortrevich's chest, through to where the axe had been embedded... Defiled. The last peaceful sight of his surrogate father - Nikolai Kortrevich, only hours before was though to be living... "It is no guardian," the Carrion muttered, finally gracing the glass focals that were Nikolai's eyes. Soon, two tawne digits came to settle those fleshen bounds to a close, allowing the man his peace beyond that veil of black... He knew the destination Nikolai was headed to would not grant him easy passage, nor would it end in happiness. The nothingness that was a sea of colorless mute would appease the briefest moments of peace. Peace for the bastard's father. Rising then, the body of Nikolai would be carried on to rest within the stone slots of the crypts, where the preserved thing would settle to rest 'fore the wake. "Forgive me, my Lord."

unreal

meow

A distant chortle bellowed from the blinded figure's maw, twitching about, 'fore it fell to a rest. "Ah... What a befitting thing. What more could I do to bring him joy?" However crude, the bastard would bob his head merrily.

gunk time

She known as Sister Swamp did not relish in such news. With the wailing and croak of nature all about her, a familiar pit would begin to fill in her gut. With little worry it had been the crimson haired figure she had grown to love, the Druii sought out for answers, 'til the discovery was made. In that newly found logical trap of a mind, she frowned, maw pursing tightly together with some dismay. Some few utterances followed, likely estranged and hushed, following true until the news truly did take hold. She would saunter on to comfort those it could effect.

omg i love corpse husband

A singular hue of red did sprawl 'long the print. It trembled, wavering in it's long hallowed sorrow. Not but a tear stained the aged parchment, she who it may behold wrinkling their brow. A slow stream of inscriptions punctuated the idle airs then - Ruilia's rasp echoing about the moist maw of that cavern. "To recant you among the stars, my dearest Ruina. . . I shall sail for you in the coming nights." It was then, the forlorned 'ker rose from their stone slab of a bed, limping on with coin in hand.

he valid +1 my only concern with this magic in comparison to prior iterations is just how strong it seems to be in accordance with other magics. I love that you've expanded on the past write and made it less vague, which was a large overarching issue with it. What an afflicted can and cannot do is so much clearer, and I really appreciate it. Due to this being more cut and dry now, however, I believe things such as mysticism, and other magics such as naztherak or blood magic, if stacked with afflicted, may result in the host being too powerful for proper roleplay means. I am sure it will be addressed in the guide should this be expressed however. You're a well worded writer, I'm sure all will be clarified. All in all, a pretty good rewrite for the community.

Perfect - I had figured with the current state varg was in that this was the case. Appreciate the replies man.

While I love that you've leant into how monstrous afflicted are in their nature with this write, I do have my qualms with certain aspects of the write. This write is far less vague than prior ones, which is a great thing, and I love that you've incorporated guides of sorts to ensure people do not overstep or misuse their transformations. My main issue after reading this through, is the Afflicted's compatibility with deific magics. Prior to this write, the mental changes done to an Afflicted's mind made them in a way almost reject the possibility of higher beings, such as the Aspects or Xan, unless it could be shown to them directly. To now have the magic be compatible with these, while it shows the adaptivity of the symbiote in it's modern era, is rather strange. Adding to this, if an Afflicted can obtain these deific magics, why is it that they cannot obtain varg sigiling? It, in a way, is it's own deific boon based on how it enforces the will to accept Deities in the mind of the Afflicted. All in all, I love to see this magic getting some attention, and I hope your write is given a fair chance among the others.

As someone who just recently began to get up to antics involving this magic, it's good to see that the community surrounding it is still active and supportive to ensure the magic stays interesting and active! Any nitpicks or complaints I would have listed before have already been addressed. Love the write, good job!

Sad to see you go man. I hope life treats you better when you're away from this place and I wish you luck. Every interaction I've had with you has been enjoyable, and I've loved having you around. Thank you for everything, it's been great.

A scrutinizing gaze fell over the missive left before her. A flicker of those infernal hues dotted the last word, and with such, a quiet rattle of a hiss loosed itself 'pon that room. Overlapping tones of laughter cracked deep into the once silent area, Daija's maw splitting into an uncanny smile, one that beckoned the thrill of what was to come. Soon too, would her own black banners be flown.

An attuned Druid scowls 'pon hearing the news, their faith in their own dwindling further after yet another humiliation to her faith. "Absolutely sickening," She hissed.

Discord: Glassy#2732 Bid: 500 Mina Skin Name: Flame

Discord: Glassy#2732 Bid: 150 Skin Name: Evergreen

Silence came upon the young Vuln'miruel's usually brash and abrasive countenance. Their blood scorched digits shaking in a dull triumph that soon came upon the sides of their sunkissed temple. Slowly, the figure fell to their knees, releasing one shrill scream of a cry. Their scarred eyes watering with what dismay they could muster. Their bronzen hand curled into their face, nails digging up flesh, spawning a terrible ichor that would trickle down her cheek. Another cry roared from Sulcelia. One tormented by those visions of their grandfather, one who had looked to their patriarchal figure, Zolvan, for guidance with his eternal visions, fell further with their sobs, uttering one word repeatedly, until they could no longer, passing out with a pathetic cry. "Maln," "Maln," "Maln..." Somber eyes came upon such news. Long did those accursed, golden streaked hues dashing across their one remembrance of Zolvan, any sign of Sons of Malin that truly mattered. That dagger. Daija's palm rose then, the dagger raising in an opposing grip, before such was slashed, dripping ichor upon an estranged tome... it's ethereal cover soaking such up with no reminder of ever sustaining such an affliction... "Heavy is the Crown," The assimilated muttered their final reply for their friend, before slithering toward the Druidic Grove.