marslol
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Stood over the end of the bed where the fallen druid's corpse lay in silence, the Rain Druid uttered a quiet prayer under his breath - allowing the emotions to roll over him like a tidal wave sweeping over the sandy beach. Hanging hid head low with a deep sigh, a singular tear fell upon the table with a quiet shudder. "Ahernal ito."
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From the faraway north of the forest, within a cabin, a lone Dosiya plucks the petals off a rose - one by one, they flit down by her feet. Upon reaching the last one, clung so desperately to it's stem, the woman only offers it the smallest bit of retrieve before too, plucking it away. Mercy, as it always has been.
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In a realm not like the material, low blows the echoing screams of the mourning and pained, something stirs ever-so-slightly in it's pitch-black prison - clawing and tearing at the ink and shroud that pulled with tendrils pulling at the mind and soul. It wakes. It will be freed.
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A witch of eld wanders the woods near the Haeseni walls, snatching up a discarded missive in front of her cabin. Scrunching up her features, her scarred visage could only be described as ... simply making a face.
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MC Name: marsloll Discord: marsloll Image: Description of Image: An old drawing of two children, also coincidentally done by a child. Dimensions: 1x1
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Upon recieving the letter, the dryad has already been preparing gifts for the upcoming arrangement. Precariously clasping a needle and thread in their mouth, they let out a few affirmative and pleased hums before going back to sewing at a much quicker pace, dead set on finishing up before the wedding day.
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INQUISITORIAL REPORT | THE HOLY INQUISITION
marslol replied to Dairsad's topic in The Church of the Canon
The drum of sharp nails echo on a wooden table, followed by the creak of a chair - balanced on its hind legs as a strange woman of raven locks and eyes as blue as a mountain river contemplated the paper upon the table. Beside it, an old but well-used and well-loved tome - that which spoke of a CURE for the ailment the woman was convicted of, and the loss of her child. Another silent thought was given upon the matter, before the paper was tossed into the flame - out of sight, out of mind. -
A sudden and muffled crash is heard from a tent off in the wilderness as Arcelia thrusts themselves back up against a wall, with wild and panicked silver eyes aglow darting around their surroundings. As ears press flat against the side of their head and claws dug into wood, the druid soon pushed out of the tent to stare up at the night sky with a huff.
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A self-removed Mondblume woman with dark hair of her mother, and blue eyes of her father, seethed and shrieked - flames of decades-old ire and hatred licked and burned brighter in her being. "That little rat should've stayed dead or back into the depths of the Hells whence he came - that family deserves nothing."
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"Norland ... and the Voidal Magi?" An elf with floral hair muses to themselves on their way to visit a similar tree-like friend in the North. "Not to mention the hoard of soul-suckers that plague their seemingly stain-free walls ... I suppose the only word I have for this is ... interesting?" With a snort, they turn back on the path to head back home, feeling as if a letter and a bird will be wiser than to visit in person. "The 'All-Father' doesn't seem to be guiding them very well if this is the path they're going down."
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"I do so ... enjoy a good cat-fight." A woman mused under the pure light of the moon, peaking out through windows of her shadowed home. "What do the kids say nowadays ... 'talk shit, get hit'?"
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"Kortrevich, Kortrevich, Kortrevich..." A slithered and sharp tongue trilled as strange blue-grey eyes flitted over the paper, with a bird cawing nonsense into one's ear. "This couldn't have been the girl from the fountain, would it? How ... troublesome, if it were - even if she tried to ask about it before. I suppose I can always see for myself, after all..." "Who doesn't enjoy a party-crasher?"
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A Queen of short reign, yet endless patience, watched as yet another member of her family made their way into the Heavens. A hand beckoned the Princess over to a thin spot with a smile despite it all that happened and happens in life - dual-coloured curls falling over steel-hued eyes. "Come. Your brother is about to brave quite the storm. Let us make sure he survives together."
