Notic

I don't think it's required, but +1

Monkey beamed as he read over the flyers, ”I’m the best at the shovel shuffle!” 

Looks like Teric Ratfoot’s Fever Dream. 10/10.

We’ve needed actual buildings for a while now, seeing as burrows are very single-use. I feel this could be a good addition to the culture.

Shroom Burrow Pog

A new figure scratches his head, glancing around the burnt ruins of Brandybrook, ”Well, not what I was expecting, but I like the challenge.” He gave a broad smile, looking for the lost halfling.

1 minute ago, NotEvilAtAll said:

”Once t’a fires die down, which alreadeh beh happenin’, t’ere is no more danger ‘n Brandybrook if we wish ter resettle. I’ve heard tha’ t’a bigguns are doin’ well agains’ t’a Demons ter. Weh need crops, some’ow. Wha’ever t’a case be, weh go’’a settle down someplace where crops grow! Weh cannae grow anehthin’ on t’a open sea!” Responds Filibert Applefoot

 

”Maybeh oi’ll gather a few o’ us wee’uns ‘n ah lifeboa’ an’ head back ter t’a village, seein’ ‘ow she fares. If we ‘ave enough good soil lef’ for farmin’, weh can live t’ere once more.”

“Oi can easily get a supply chain goin’ on Theo’s tiny boat, but we will lose if we go back t’ere! Oi’ve been sayin’ t’is fer years, but shite ain’t safe anymore!” Sean yelled, “We ‘ave lost good halflin’s already!”

Sean Puddlefoot slammed down his fist on a map, standing tall in the Meeting Room, “Oi will not let our death’s be prolonged fer no reason ot’er t’an stubbornness o’ our propers! Te toime t’ew start new is now!”

This is looking cool; Can’t wait to get some spooks in for the Phantoms.

Sean rubbed his hands together, a sparkle in his eye, ”It’s toime!” He rang out to the village.

Sean glanced over the notice, grumbling, “She wasn’ fawkin’ bluffin’.” He facepalmed.

It’s a sound system. Gives everyone what they want. +1

The corpse of Kit Kat Gardner hits the floor, the talk of the Thain’s replacement.

The houses are locked, and the doors are closed, but one thing is apparent.

A man, forgotten, emerges from rubble. His corpse awakens once more.

The green chains of death fall off his small wrists,

As he comes once more.

The return of Sean Blavigan Puddlefoot is nigh.

MC Name: FakeNotic

Character's Name: Sean Puddlefoot

Character's Age: 52

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         Halfling

Transformed form:

         Phantom

Creator's MC Name:

Creator's RP Name:

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

Phantoms are the souls of the dead returning to the mortal plane of existence. They are people that have died a returned back home from the Elysian Wastes. The Elysian Wastes are the first place a passed soul finds itself; a bridge between the mortal realm and the Soul stream, where they watch the mortal realm as bystanders without a physical outlet. Those who are too stubborn or attached to the mortal world will stay here, being known as stagnant spirits, forced to be unnoticed and unheard. When souls do let go of their earthly burdens, they travel into the Soul Stream, which is where they will eventually be sent to their religion’s heaven. However, some are not lucky enough to pass through the gates of god, and instead fall to a abominable hell. The endless ocean of pain and sorrow, where they will rest forever, painful and broken.

Some souls of the dead do not want to go to Soul Stream, and instead venture back into the mortal plane. This may be through willpower, trauma, or feeling like you have unfinished business. Some will realize they have died, becoming a white or black ghost, meaning they finally accept their fate. Either this, or stay in the realm as a Graven.

Souls that drift back into the mortal plane take on the host of Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm has various manifestations, influenced by the soul that controls it, to best fit their physical traits they desire. This would mean it could look like dense gas, goo, or even fire. Those controlling the Ectoplasm may control it using sheer force of will. Ectoplasm is not a worldly object, and therefore does not naturally interact with the mortal material plane. It takes effort for a Phantom to raise a mug or ride a horse, unlike how mortals can do it passively. This also means weapons will pass through it, and ectoplasm can sometimes not be seen at all.

As they lack a mortal host, Phantoms would not need to do worldly things. This includes sleeping, drinking, eating, or exercising. They do not bleed, and any non-fatal injury will have little to no effect on these beings. The speed of regeneration and effect of the injury will vary upon severity, so a mere papercut will be shorter than a stabbing on the shoulder.

Phantoms suffer a great burden to return to the mortal plane, as they would pass on if they weren’t back for something. This means most all Phantoms suffer from a mental disorder such as PTSD, Depression, etc. Some are more severe than others, and this can influence the type of Phantom you are. Phantoms are not bound to a single disorder, but more disorders will ultimately lead to being a Poltergeist, whereas a single minor disorder would be a Specter.

Specter – This is what becomes of Phantoms who positively accept their death and are able to move on from life. Those that are Specters usually have the least emotional baggage.

Graven – A being that chooses to disregard their death, and remains on the plane for a singular goal, passion or task. Those that are Gravens have the medium amount of emotional baggage.

Poltergeist – Those that are angry at their death, and refuse to accept it, become a Poltergeist. These creatures carry multiple mental disorders, having the most emotional baggage. They fail to embrance the reality of their demise.

Some Phantoms can change their polarity while they are spending their second time on Earth. This can be from a change in heart or seeing something happen. Maybe your wife dies and you wish to spend time with her in heaven instead of clinging on to the past? You would change from a Graven to a Specter. What if you finally clear up the drama that has brought you back down to Earth, but you still wish to cling on to your old ways? You change from a Poltergeist to a Graven. This can happen gradually, or it can happen at the drop of a plate, depending on the situation.

Phantoms have various weaknesses, despite being null to mundane weaponry. They find sunlight very unsettling, it giving them a more intensive sunburn. It will not kill them, but still, nobody likes being bitten by a mosquito or stubbing their toe. They also are weak to Aurum, a metal that has the ability to cut Ectoplasm. This means some Aurum shears could be deadly to any Phantom. Aurum can also be used in lines, making a barrier for Phantoms, in case someone wanted to imprison a Poltergeist for tormenting the townspeople.

In a similar way, Voidal Magics are a weakness of Phantoms, as Mana is a component of Ectoplasm. This causes any voidal magic to react to ectoplasm as if it were a material object, similar to Aurum (Aurum is also a component in Ectoplasm). If Aurum or voidal magics are used on Phantoms in a killing blow, they will demanifest. This means that the soul will temporarily be banished from the realm until their endoplasmic host can regenerate. Soon after, they will be thrown somewhere within the mortal realm (Wherever their host has regenerated). After enough times of killing a Phantom, the endoplasm will no longer have the capacity to regenerate, meaning the soul is entirely cast into the Elysian Waste and can no longer muster the strength to regenerate their Endoplasm, sending them through the Soul Stream.

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

He would be a darker green color, as it is his favorite and what he always wore, and he would be like the waves of the sea. He would wear his normal clothes and stick to this specified color, as tends to happen with ectoplasm (So i’ve seen, anyway).

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         N/A

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         N/A

Do you understand that if this creature's lore is undergoing an activity trial and that trial fails, you will no longer be able to play this creature and will be forced to either revert the character back to its normal form (if it was a transformative type) or stop playing the character entirely (if it is an entirely new creature)?:

         Yes

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         Have not, this is my first time!

Armilas Draconis watched in horror as Kit-Kat was consumed by the swarm, Boris Oceantoe screaming at the top of his lungs. He could do nothing anymore but get Boris out of there. Get to safety.

Just now, NotEvilAtAll said:

no y’all are the cause of all my distress frigg off

((jk ur cool just please don’t kill everyone))

I’ll try. Very tempting.

See you later Jumpy. If you ever wanna come back into the community, you can always play an Oceantoe!

[!] A small note was left on the first page of the book.

“This is an accurate retelling of the horrific events on the second demonic raid from The Last Light Camp on the shores of Korvassa. I am telling this from my perspective, and what I saw and experienced. Please enjoy, and stay safe.”  -Armilas

It was about 9 PM off the coast of Korvassa. The allied descendants had all united in the Last Light Camp without any hatred, all standing there to protect their home Arcas. Seeing as everyone is always at war, I was glad that people could see eye-to-eye in a time of crisis. It made me happy that we could finally unite against a common enemy. I would soon regret this.

I had arrived earlier in the day, having been doing Ballista maintenance with a few of the other soldiers. Someone had put a rock in the loading mechanism (Most likely an imp) but thankfully we caught it in time. After that, I went onto the ship and prepared some medical supplies. Since I’ve never been much of a fighter, I thought I could do my part by helping on that end. I was one of maybe 3 Medics at this siege, but we tried our hardest to close the gap.

At about 10 PM, people started showing up on boats and the Siege officially begun. I was scared, but I still had no idea the horrors about to befall me and my friends. I stood with my shield high outside the medical tent, supplies still being down by the docks. This was my first mistake. As the sky cracked, an evil laugh echoed through the night sky. This giant, fat yellow creature flew on a throne, his legions holding him in the air. He proclaimed down to us that this would be our last day on this earth. I took it as a bluff. Soon after everyone in the front gate was roused, an explosion from the Eastern Wall was heard. It appeared an Imp had blown up part of the wall, but thankfully we had soldiers positioned there. I feel that plan is why I am still speaking to you all today.

I ran over to the wall with my medical supplies, demons already flooding in through the gap. Some druids tried to repair it, but their roots couldn’t hold them back. Hell broke loose for those soldiers as I ran around with Greta, a halfling medic, trying to keep everyone in tact. Soon after I arrived over there, a demon began to steal the boats and light them on fire. Many of the Dwarves pushed through the docks, fighting valiantly. That was probably when we had the upper hand, many heads of demons flying around and blood squirting. Thankfully, they didn’t rely on as much Malflame this time. As we pushed down the docks, I turned around to hear the screams of an armored man. I stood in horror over him as his arm lay on the ground, severed.

I quickly grabbed the man, bringing him to the medical tent before starting the surgery. I stopped the internal bleeding, sewing his wound. This was very tedious, and before I could finish the rest of the soldiers burst into the tent, ”If you stay here any longer, you’ll be dead!” They exclaimed. The man rose out of the bed, beginning to follow them.

“Your wounds will re-open if you continue to move! You’ll bleed out and die!” I yelled.

”I would rather die on the way home than die in this damned tent!” He snapped at me, running out with the other soldiers.

Reluctantly, I followed them, looking up at the sky. My mouth dropped in shock as I looked at the swarms and swarms of them above me. I had heard bugs breached the West Wall, but this was something entirely different. Thousands, nay, Millions of bugs the size of a Human male floated about in the skies above, talons razor sharp. Their talons glimmered in their great swarm as people screamed, ”Run! Run to the Southwest Wall!” 

I looked around for any injured, but there was no time, they were fast. Closing in on us like bolts from a crossbow, I ran. One decided to stay behind and shield us, though. The mighty Kit-Kat Gardner, a halfling woman with the spirit of a lion. She stood before 50 of the bugs, her sword raised high as she slashed them down. For a while, she was lucky, taking out a good few of them. That was before her foot slipped. She fell on the ground, the bugs overwhelming her in what is the most horrifying thing I have ever seen. Limb from limb, they tore at her as she screamed in agony. They gnawed on her flesh, then her bone, until she was no more. By this point, everyone else had fled, and the only ones of us left were me and Boris Oceantoe. He tried to save her, but I stopped him. There was no fighting that horde. There was no chance of survival. As he screamed at me, I dove into the water, barely escaping them.

We floated for miles, drifting about on the waves until we washed ashore. It still haunts me...what I saw that day. Limb from limb. Limb from limb.

Volume I: The Beasts of Old

Deep within the mighty forests of the land before the first, laid the beasts of the world’s creation. Mighty stags with 50 horns tromped over trees like the triumphant giants they were. The great hedgehog laid in it’s mighty clearing, the infirm creatures of the wild worshipping it like the king of their land. The wolf, strong and bloodthirsty, lay watching from it’s mighty peak. It was hungry; Hungry for a feast on the mighty Hedgehog.

Though, this was not all at hand. For the wolf feared the Hedgehog, King of the Wood or the mighty Stags. He feared that he was too small and would soon be the grand dinner of either of them. In his great uncertainty, he went to seek help from his friend, the fox. The fox was not like the others, not like the wolf. He was crafty and cunning, a trickster of the modern world. He made his home a cave near the riverbank, having made a bridge over it. Now, the river was deep, deep enough to where you could not get out. The fox thought this appealing for his defense, as the weak must be strong in order to not be eaten.

“What is it that you seek, dear friend?” The fox said, his tongue forked like a serpent, and his voice cold like a storm. 

”I seek help, for I am hungry, starving, and yet I do not know how to get food. I fear, fox, I fear that it is only a matter of time before they get hungry for me!” The wolf said, panicked. 

”Very well, bring your prey here, to my den, and I will deal with them.” He said, the wolf quickly obeying and going to get the great Hedgehog.

The Hedgehog thought of himself as a god among creatures. He sat, a giant, being worshipped by those around him. He had never had any awareness of the existence of these “Fox” and “Wolf” characters. He sat in his perfect world, the mighty stags being his friends and providing his kingdom safety from the evils outside the forests. He lived in luxury, only ever having to eat leaves and berries that were harvested by the rabbits of his land. It was a peaceful life.

Soon, the Wolf entered the great dark oaks of King Hedgehog, fearing for his life. He stood before the robust mass that was this beast. 

”I have an offering for you! I am from the land in the mountains, deep within the snow. I want to give a gift!” He called out. 

”Very well, my child, lead me to this offering. I am quite honored of your worship.” The hedgehog boomed through the valley, shaking the very trees themselves.

After much travelling, they reached the great bridge of the wolf. Surprisingly, this was no tiny bridge, it was a bridge that stretched out wide and forward that was large enough to fit one of the stag’s feet. The wolf began to walk with the hedgehog over the bridge, before the shifting of rope was heard. It got louder, and louder as the bridge grew more unstable. Suddenly, the wolf darted his head upwards to find the Fox clawing the rope off the bridge. The wolf began to sprint full speed off of it, jumping on to land before the entire thing collapsed, leaving the hedgehog dead in the water.

”You killed him! Now I can’t even eat him!” The wolf exclaimed in his great anger.

This should’ve been a good thing, but the Wolf and the Fox were different. The Wolf hunted for food, the Fox hunted for sport. 

”I did exactly as you requested. I dealt with your prey. You did not care to ask how I was going to do it, you were blinded by your own cowardly ways and frantically trusted me.” The fox said, his tongue hissing like a snake as he got an evil, horrifying grin on his face. 

”You tricked me! You’re evil!” The wolf yelled, betrayed and confused. “Why would the fox do this?” He asked himself, “Why betray the very person he sought to help?”

Soon after the wolf left, trotting back to his great mountain. The animals of the forest no longer sang of their great king, the 50-horned stags no longer provided shade. It seemed everyone had left, riding off on the stag’s backs through the ocean to new lands. The only one’s left were the cunning fox, and the ignorant wolf.

[!] A small notice was written on the bottom of the story: 

”New volumes coming next week, we will learn what became of the fox and the wolf.” 

Edward lowered his head, paying respect to Fred. “Well, at least he said that I attempted to save the Ballista crew. Best to leave out my injuries.”

“The last of a dying breed. A true hero, and a true friend.” Edward Oceantoe stood above the corpse, a sheet covering the face on that brisk and dry morning. He took a puff of his pipe, ”May he be with Sean in the Fields. I’ll handle the shite going on down here.”

“Alice, this is the second ship we’ve wrecked arriving. I’m going to be in debt!” Edward yelled from the hilltop, guzzling more beer.

“Go Boris!” Eddie screamed, “Boris for Thain!”

:Kevin:

Edward glared over the notice, “Hm, seems things are cooling off. The Thain should still keep her guard up, though.” He said.