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AgentofDeath13
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Posts posted by AgentofDeath13
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MC Name:
Agentkhov
Character's Name:
Gereon De Savoie
Character's Age:
17
Character's Race:
Human
What magic(s) will you be learning?
Bardmancy S+W
Teacher's MC Name:
Self-Teach Book
Teacher's RP Name:
N/A
Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:
No
Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:
Yes
Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?
Yes
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Library of the Stars
Spoiler[!] A gaze within Liber, the library which holds all.
Liber | The Universal Archive | Documentation, Knowledge, and Organization
A plane comprised of an ever-expanding, ever-organizing library of the works of the polyites of Mechina of Garumdir’s making; when the mechanical mathematicians leave their plane to venture into others, the heaping loads of tomes they fill with useless and useful information, pointless and rare histories, and other such texts, volumes, grimoires, and books of all kinds of the entire universe and its many planes, including the secrets to its deities and most potent rituals, however, these books are lost amongst the eternal library of dirt weighs and the percentage of which cocoa is best served with milk. This plane is adjacent to Mechina and Fabul.
The Search in the Name of ‘Mercy’
“Guide me, Lords of Balance, Lord of Order…” Those words rang out and resided within his mind but were soon overtaken by the sound of howling winds that masked Cernuno’s disappearance into another realm. His eyes would open and he would find himself within a grand foyer of sparkling stone that seemed sprinkled with the imagery of gleaming constellations that shifted along with his movement. With squinted eyes, Cernuno would rise carefully and check the rucksack that was slung over his shoulder, to assess that all of his things were there.
After a few moments of silence and dust-filled breaths, the lad would begin his trek forth through the foyer, his steps rhythmic but unsure. Yet despite the uncertainty, his paces persisted as he moved further in until a large wooden door was reached. The door itself was nothing special, but it was of such a size that the ‘ame seemed miniature in comparison. A gloved palm would be placed flat against the wood and the entrance would fade into a myriad of paper sheets that fluttered off and landed in tidied piles on nearby shelves. With the door gone a great living library was revealed, one that had no observable end, the ceiling itself a painting of the heavens and a golden court. Great shelves lined both sides with scrolls and books layered and stacked upon each other until they all rested on the edge, those worn and tattered pages in danger of falling from their great heights. “So much to learn, but if my Lords led me to these halls then I know what must be done…” With those words of reassurance to himself, he continued forth, his eyes scanning and hands brushing the spines of every text that he could reach on his journey through. The deeper into the passageways of knowledge he made it, the more the floors beneath him seemed to shift and sway with life and vigor. Shelves and books flew about in circles making a labyrinth of halls that surrounded a room. Yet at some point, he stopped when his eyes befell a familiar name flying past him, and so his hands shot out to grasp a book from the air, “She just told me about this there’s no way it’s here…” Within the elf's nosy mitts rested Amelia’s Diary, a book which he most certainly shouldn’t take, but one he pocketed anyways before moving onwards towards the center.
Through those expeditions down the halls, Cernuno stumbled upon a chamber with its door left ajar, where frigid winds blew out from it into the corridors behind him. After a few moments of hesitation, he steels his resolve and looks within, his head prying in through the frame without a sound while his eyes gazed upon the marvel that he found inside. His eyes fell onto the great room with a machine at its center, one that magnified the view of multiple distant planets. Its ceiling held a beautiful machination that made a steel sun and moon revolve around the room. A ticking filled the chamber as it counted down every hour that passed in Almaris. Yet those hours came in the form of seconds as time flows differently there. At the center stood a large masked being made of steel whose gargantuan talons moved great orbs of light around. His back was to the door as his digits shaped those globes. His claws expanded and rearranged their orders before placing them above, and with each action, the library outside moved in response. His voice would resound as he spoke and addressed the newly arrived elf who gawked at his work. “Ah, how quaint. A new visitor, tell me, boy, I’ve become rather bored here. What do you believe to be the most valuable piece of work in this library?” A gentle hum comes from the elf’s cords as he steps into the room. His voice is low in tone yet firm as he addressed that being. “Is it… the laws of the gods, maybe…?” His response is met with silence, and a grating sound fills the room as the Curator turns with a great tome in his hand, its spine as large as Cernuno’s own body. “Hmm, but what makes something valuable? Is it rarity, or maybe the knowledge it contains?” Another pause and another rushed hour pass before Cernuno responds.“I must admit I do not know the answer llir. Is value not subjective? The result of one’s personal beliefs and feelings?” Gilded steel hands rise and come together to clap, shining appendages ringing like great bells as the curator looks down upon the elf with a smile. “Very good, very very good you have some brain in you after all… it is indeed subjective, and because of that, not a single page in these halls has a greater value than any other. Every recipe, tome, and page is the focus and dream of someone at any given point in our cosmos… Even you… you have come for something… have you not?” Nothing but a pause came from Cernuno, his frame shifting back in hesitation as he struggled to decide why exactly he had gone there. This slight bout of amnesia would surely be the first of many to come, but before his mind can remember any words or reasons to offer or say, that masked figure laughs and speaks, his voice growing to boom amongst the walls and bombard the elf from every direction. “Do not fret, you have humored me, heard my voice, but have not seen my face. I’ve decided to grant unto you a gift, the gift of knowledge to lead you to that which your heart desires. It has been so long since I last had a visitor, SO SPEAK, CHILD.” At the sound of those roaring words, Cernuno flinched and stumbled back falling onto the ground. The lad then spoke and answered as best he could, tidbits coming to him in passing, so as he spoke he remembered more and more. “I… I’ve come here looking for a solution, a hint… to an issue at home… A friend I care about deeply is the victim of long-lost sanguine magic... We have found no way to ease her plight or free her from it. So I’ve come to see if I can find something… anything to aid in the process.” The Curator hums and nods as he begins to pace towards Cernuno, his form shrinking with every step as the sound of winding gears is heard. He stops once he stands before the elf, helping him rise from the ground before looking him in the eyes. “You have come here… risked your life, your mind, and your very soul to find something for this girl... The courage is admirable, or maybe it’s stupidity rather. I may never know despite being surrounded by all this knowledge…” A pause comes for a moment before the Curator continues and gestures to the door, his mechanical limb guiding Cernuno along with him. “Emotion is something that math cannot account for. It is the ultimate wildcard in the universal game of numbers… I will never fully grasp it, but you friend, do what you need to. Head down the passage I will open, it will take you to the steps that lead to the deepest depths of this library. A place where nothing moves and rot festers amongst the pages. I can open that path but once you descend the rest falls upon you. There is nothing more I can do…” a silent and solemn gaze is exchanged between the two as they come to terms with their misunderstanding, the knowledge that they will never know what each other meant bringing them some strange satisfaction in the end. But before Cernuno departed he spoke one last time. “This is more than enough sir… ahernan. I have faith in myself, I know I’ll find something. Otherwise, I’ll refuse to turn back even if it costs me everything...” At that, he turned and proceeded to pace forth with security as aisles, shelves, and walls bent to the curator’s will and made way for Cernuno, his path opening with every step. Yet every step grew dark and darker as he descended and the entrance behind him was sealed.
Down winding halls filled with cobwebs, and absent of light the wood elf searched for anything that he could find on the ichorian magics. He was met with disappointment at every turn as he found nothing for hours upon end, only ash and tattered leather from books long since forgotten. Every room was empty with only the occasional candle or shelf adorning its walls, this was the case for most of the halls as well. Darkness was the only thing that accompanied him, or it was until he wandered upon a fountain of ink in the center of an otherwise empty room. Upon his entrance, the door behind him faded from existence, candles beginning to flicker and light floating in the air spiraling towards the pooling substance. There was nothing to do except pace forward and so the ‘Ame did. He moved until he came to a halt by the edge of the fountain and gazed in where he was met with his reflection. His body grew stiff and immobile as he gazed upon his mirror image. His mind remembering his trip to Louj would scream at him to run, but before he could turn and find a way a set of blood-stained hands reached out and took hold of him, dragging him underneath. The last thing he could see before he was dragged below was… himself standing where he used to be. More and more bloody hands grasped at him and pulled him further under while ink filled his lungs and all went dark. After some time his lips would sputter and he would awaken on the floor of an unknown hall. That fountain that had brought him there was hanging from the ceiling, none of its ink pouring onto the floor. As he rose to sit up he would find a corridor before him, one that sprawled out all around him and led into a room that was barely lit. After finding that forsaken passage where the knowledge came to die, the flickering lights and polished glass mirrors brought forth a great trauma from within Cernuno. Madness descended upon him like a predator in the night, one which had its sight on prey. Sweat would cake him, and fear took its hold as every step further was a step deeper into the pool of hysteria. With coldness and dismay, the elf makes his way to the darkest depths of those halls. There was no movement, there was no life, nor light. All was still as the shelves did not advance and no breeze blew through those aisles that line the floor. His boots dragged themselves along as his world became hazy and he continued until he entered a new room. A series of skeletons remained seated around a great table carved of stone and dragon's bone. Scrolls and tomes lined the bodies of each of those deceased, and elements floated about them in a beautiful dance, a blessing and the first sign of beauty granted to him since his descent. The ends of the table are where his focus remained. On one end flowers and leaves floated about the corpse adorned in verdant linens and leathers, while on the other blood and blackened bone floated about an empty seat. All that remained at each end was a single item. At life’s end was a set of robes but at the end of death sat a skeletal hand clenching a note atop a burned and ichor-stained scroll. Cernuno strode over first to the side of life and picked up the robes. They were simple yet beautiful monastic robes with depictions of life upon its back. With the robes in hand, the lad contemplated to himself for a few moments in silence before placing them in his rucksack and pacing over to the severed hand. As he approached the area he could feel plague seep into his bones, his vision fading with every step towards the hand that he took. As he finally reached the end of the table he slumped into the empty seat and leaned forward resting his torso against the surface. He would lift the scroll that his eyes could barely read and scan its contents until he realized it was what he had been searching for the entire time. It was a torn page of notes detailing a specific Ichorian spell, most of it was illegible due to the ink having faded away from time and due to some damage from blood spots on the paper. After scanning its contents, Cernuno rolled up that paper and pocketed it before turning to that skeletal hand. The appendage was balled up into a fist and within its grasp rested a note. So despite the plague that seeped into his body and weakened his breaths he remained seated and proceeded to take the note and look it over. His mind memorized what he could before he pocketed it with the severed hand. Minutes passed fading into hours before Cernuno would then rise, shakily and heavily from the seat, his body slowed as he was filled with illness. He would begin to pace back towards where he came from with a hand on the table for aid before he felt something go wrong.
The wood elf would come to a halt just as quickly as he began to walk. A feeling like lightning striking him would cause his body to keel over and roll into a ball as his protective ward was removed. The salt circle having been disrupted would cause his mind great pain, and bring the rest of the realm itself to shake and roar as it was alerted to his presence. The thundering of distant footsteps came from the halls he had originated from and grew louder with every passing second. Yet despite the pain and pestilence that filled him, he forced himself onto his knees, his hands flowing into his bag and onto his book where he withdrew from his side the grimoire and a stone taken from Almaris. His verdant hues would close, his hands coming together before his lips moved and began to intonate. “Lords guide me home for I have gathered what you guided me to find. Take me home so that I may bring Order and Balance to that which has been disturbed”. His prayer was met swiftly as howling winds would take him once more and obstruct his view of that realm. So as they began to carry him away, his vision blurred and faded as he rose and then immediately began to fall. His body would hit a familiar ivory stone floor and remains undisturbed until someone comes and finds him.
His journey. a success, but at what cost?
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In the furthest reaches of the Eternal Forest where twilight reigned forever, a lone warrior would rest beneath a tree where his mind wandered through its memories in blissful silence. The news of his friend’s death would never reach him, yet Acanthus always lamented the moments he had missed with Elias. With his hand clasped over his heart, he would speak…
“Old man, Old llir, I’ll always miss those talks we had. You had a certain way of humbling me, and only our Lords know how many more of those I needed…”
A chuckle escaped that Prince as he then rose with tears staining his scar-ridden visage. With a deep breath and heavy heart, the King of Thorns placed his head on the ground and prayed for the first time in his life.
“Lords, whether you be mine or his, guide him and keep him safe. Let his light touch those whom he loved and let it guide them just as he guided me. Ave Ordo and Uell Ito Maruthiran, Elias…”
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The Mind Hunts Itself
[!] A glimpse within the labyrinth that consumes.
The Race
A second. A second was all that had passed as Cernuno had just been exchanging words with friends outside the gates of Caras Anor. He had a book and so many unanswered questions, uninterrupted thoughts, and hidden secrets he wished to share. In their exchange of words, there would come a single inquiry directed to him which hung in the air, “Have you read it yet?”. That question, that fateful ask, was the last thing he remembered hearing before a superficial glance would be taken at the inner pages of that long-forgotten tome. The Archaic texts within made little sense to the mixed elf before he felt forced to blink and rub his eyes, the sounds of rushing air accompanying the feeling of a free-fall before he hit the hard stone ground beneath him. The wind from his lungs was knocked loose from within him, that rough floor made of crystal acting as his rigid bed upon which he rested for a few moments.
The Prince would slowly rise and run a hand along his face and arms as he examined himself for bruises within the darkened halls in which he stood. Gleaming crystal mirrors lined the walls around him, “Where am I?” was all that he could say as a further glance around revealed a maze of mirrors. The flickers of spirits and visions lined his view, plaguing him, as the paths before him reflected endings and openings, a never-ending amount of routes for him to take.
Cernuno would begin his trek down those seemingly endless halls and look about, his gaze falling upon the mirrors that surrounded him at every turn. Faces and bodies would line those panes and float about him as the Prince strode forth and continued down his path, but every step taken was a step in the wrong direction. Every mirror he gazed into only brought more uncertainty as his voice called out to him and coaxed him into giving up. The fragile elf could see himself stepping gradually closer with each passing glance as he made his way deeper into the depths of the world
Those halls wove themselves into an intricate puzzle that bore the most fragile of paths. Those crystal floors and glass mirrors watched his every move as they judged him, and he could feel those surfaces force themselves about, guiding him and dissuading him. That silent judgment killed him slowly and caused great distress, but in the moments where hope seemed the darkest, he would hear his voice call out to him. The mali walked beside himself as every step brought him closer to the surface of that reflective shell. His mirrored image guided him and soothed him in the moments when he struggled the most, and to that end, he was gently guided to a door at the center of the labyrinth.
As the Prince took that fateful turn around the last corner he had been guided to by his mirrored companion, he found his salvation. A circular room within which the walls and ceiling were perfect mirrors that reflected everything without distortion. Sitting in the center of the said room was an altar with his book, that mysterious grimoire that had brought him there. Its reflection was absent from the mirrors that surround it, and so Cernuno walked about the room and studied the pedestal it rested on. It had no traps, bore no runes, and showed no signs of tampering. It simply laid there waiting for someone to take it and use it. As the young elf reached out to take it, there came a shout, one full of desperation and sorrow… “WAIT… DON'T TOUCH IT… YOU'LL TRAP US…” - “But this is how I got here, maybe it’s my way back.” - “ YES BUT COME HERE… ALLOW ME TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING.” The mirror image placed a palm flat against the glass as he gestured for Cernuno to touch his hand. The ‘ame would release a long sigh and pace forth, his hand placed flat against the glass. Before the prince realized what had happened, his doppelganger was released from his prison and tackled the ‘ame to the ground. He would strike Cernuno time after time until blood stained both of their garbs. That Mali and his doppelganger were in combat for a while before one of them finally rose. That individual would walk over and pick up the book. Sitting down and reading it once more, that feeling of falling washed over him and he crashed upon the ground outside the keep where the original portal had come from.
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MC Name:
Agentkhov
Character's Name:
Cernuno
Character's Age:
38
What feat(s) will you be learning?
Alchemy
Teacher's MC Name:
Lockages
Teacher's RP Name:
Ayako
Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:
Yes
Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:
No
Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?
Yes
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- Popular Post
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Death Comes to Life
13th of Malin’s Welcome. 116 SA
Spoiler[!] The King of Thorns stands before the King under the mountain.
An empty, colorless, and stagnant void surrounded Acanthus as his last fleeting moments of pain ended. He rose from his position on the ground and looked about, seeing nothing with his wandering gaze. A single burning tree would reveal itself from shadows and stand alone in the middle of the distant horizon. Its trunk cracked and splintered as if lightning had cleaved down its center. While taking measured and steady paces the King would begin to walk forward over the seemingly endless abyss, the tree slowly approaching until it stood within a few meters of him. The only thing separating him from that ashen trunk was a river of blood that encircled it, its surface polished and unmoving as the ichor was frozen over. The King immediately knelt and took his crown of thorns, tossing it over onto the river’s surface, those aurum and arbor thorns leaving scratches upon the hardened blood. With a deep breath, he paced forward expecting to tread the path but was met with the shattering of glass as the river rose and swallowed him whole. He sinks like a stone and begins to drink the blood that he had spilled, the blood that had surrounded his roots as the tree was him. The air that left his lungs would rise in the form of bubbles; within them, the King could see the memories he had made along the way. The faces of all those he slayed lined the recollections as the ‘Ame drowned in their ichor. Brothers, enemies, lovers, and family all rushed into his lungs as he reached the bottom of the river and collided with the bones that rested beneath. His torment ended after accepting the sin that had piled up around him.
The King of Thorns, a title bestowed upon Acanthus by the being he marked as his mortal enemy. A thorn designed to protect the rose that was Descendant-kind, the life druid, the whisper, the fourth high prince of Amaethea. All names, words that in death stood for nothing other than to reminisce over the kind of man he was, but he was barely a man at all. “You are but a child with a crown,'' a cold and ominous voice once told him, an irrefutable truth that even he could not deny with his best of intentions. The Daesmon lord was always conflicted, haunted by his past, and cursed to relive it at every moment. Every second spent alive was another he wished he had been dead. But it was his wish to die that gave him reason to live. He could not give himself the sweet release of death so he punished himself and worked himself down until he broke.
His last few days upon the Almaris were bittersweet, a beautiful symphony of events that all lined up to finally give his life meaning just as he knew his death was coming, his end was nigh. The druid of life was a dealer of death and it was for his naivety and ignorance that he paid the price with his life. He wished for a world where the kin of the four brothers could stand united once more but it was a dream he would never see, for the last man he shared his vision with became his demise.
1 Day Before his Death
A Prince of the Light and a Queen of the Dark found themselves at odds with their views on the fate of descendants. Within the billowing winds of the frigid northern tundra, Darkness offered Light the chance to view what could be, a glance of the fate meant to befall all descendant-kind. A ritual of salt and earth was performed in the shadows of a dimly lit cave on the edge of the world, a circle made to take man across time and space.
All was quiet for the moment before their canticles and prayers bore fruit. Their minds were assaulted by the passing wind and when they opened their eyes they found themselves on a plane of death. Pestilence, plagues, and puss all bubble around them in a ghoulish imitation of the balance, a world abandoned by the gods.“And so you see half of what we wish to show you, a realm that once knew the light of the AenguDaemonica… Long abandoned by them..”
“A realm lost to darkness. This is but all the more reason that my work is important. Man already treads the path to find a fate like this, and I simply wish to save them from such.”
“A realm lost to darkness, yes. And you are correct, us descendants, those men and women of Mortality are headed towards a similar fate. Our cataclysmic end is not far off, and it is up to us to prevent such.”
“I am but a man, a Mali who makes many mistakes… I cannot pretend to know the will of my gods when I have not seen or spoken to them. I simply know that I have been entrusted with a mission to keep their favor. But we are failing…”
And as time went on in those plagued lands their talks continued and their reasonings explained. A story that would be continued another time by those who knew, but by the end, they would understand each other but could not see eye to eye. Acanthus’s dream was now more obvious to him and his enemy, but that barrowlord offered him a smile as they made their way back to their home realm and departed on their separate ways.
The Day of his Death
With a rumble, the earth shook in front of Acanthus. Stone and pebbles clattered, falling into the undergrove. In front of the son of Amathea, archaid, red-scaled eyes burned with pastel-orange cracks. Serpentine slits gazed into the crack in the cave's stretch, burning with smoke and plumes, clogging the rooftop.
Acanthus greeted the sleeping titan, yet it seemed only maddened by the food that was brought to its presence – a sustenance, one of unavailing titles that it did not care of. Its words, low and grizzly, caused the world to rumble with each spoken weight.
“. . - you are man. . a source of. . - nourishment. . “
“What. . purpose . .- does food have . . - to be graced with. . “
“MY GREATNESS?”Spoke the gargantuan beast, its scales rolling against the stone. Acanthus could feel his arm-hairs bristle and rise, out of intimidation, and fear. As an act of heroism, he attempted to bargain for the freedom of Amathea, in return for salvation. Yet, the King did not seem astounded.
It was then - for a moment - the old prince recognized.
All hope was lost.
“. . - Gaze. . into my eyes. . “
“- and reflect upon. . your. . “
“DEATH!”
The eyes of the ancient king seemed almost abnormal, its slits gleaming with bulbous, red lights. Numerous cracks in the floors underneath grew with mystical runes carved of sanguine, bubbling. Soon enough, dragonsflame erupted within the cave's stretch and boiled his bones.And in death, the old prince could only smile, before turning into ash.
Posthumous Letters
To Idril & Fëanor
SpoilerIdril Lari’onn, I have always had faith that you have the best of intentions when it comes to our people. I plead that you continue your good works and become a symbol of what the good elf should be. We were both servants to the divine so show the west and the world what it means to have a Mandate of Heaven. Make Amaethea the beacon of the west, the symbol of hope for all of Mali kind as I had hoped it would become.
Fëanor, you above all were like a Maln to me, a stalwart pillar that never shook even under the greatest of uncertainties. I came to you with all that had plagued me, and every time you sat with me and showed me what it meant to be a man of faith, a man of light. We once sat and spoke about sacrifices and balance, and I know you mean well but all I can ask of you is that you visit your daughter. Please we men of responsibility have time after time sacrificed everything for duty, but I want you to be the best, so please do not make the same mistakes I did.
To Alatariel
SpoilerLlir, I know we did not always see eye to eye but I always appreciated your lessons and scoldings. You helped guide me to become a warrior that I could be proud of, but I still lacked things as a man. If you can, please seek out my sons and assure them that they grow to become warriors for the light and what is right. I know you think that I was drawn to the dark, but I always remained stalwart in my beliefs. I always remained good-natured and did everything I could to be on your side. And with my death quickly approaching I want you to know that in this I did not fail.
To Kosher
SpoilerMaln the man who taught me the ways of war, I preach patience to you, and I hope there comes a day upon which your heart can find peace and forgive me for leaving you behind. You have always been one to jump on the quickest path to action but look at my example. All I did was rush and look where it got me.
To Evar’tir
SpoilerMarmal’onn I’ll have missed our talks and wish I could have seen you one last time before I met my end. I always appreciated your curtness and the stories you would share when I would come over for a cup of tea. I wish you the best in your retirement and all I can ask is that if you see my sons, treat them as you did me. They could learn a thing or two from you.
To my family
SpoilerElliphas my beloved uncle, keep up the good work as you always have, and support my Maln in these moments of pain. He will need you to make it through these next few years. Aster my elder brother, you were always such a shut-in, worried about what to do and what comes next but I beg of you. Take the first step towards your dreams, it is better to act and ask for forgiveness than to stay stagnant and regret it later. Live and learn Mal’onn. Kaito, we may not be brothers by blood, but you will always be a Daesmon to me. The bonds of brotherhood one forged are thicker than those of blood and you are by all accounts my brother, stand tall and stand proud, you are a Daesmon.
To my sons
SpoilerTo Agis & his elder, I pray that you both grow up to be strong men. Warriors like me, but real men who can truly respect those you love. Swear yourselves to one and be better than I ever could. I once looked up to my predecessors and hoped to be like them, but I realized that is wrong. Don’t be like those from the past, be better. Live life to the fullest for we may be Mali, but our lives are fleeting. Centuries come and go, and empires rise and fall, but the moments gathered every day are the ones that make life truly worth living. I am sorry my sons but I leave to both of you my titles and holdings. If I was the King of Thorns then you are the Princes, the Ranger Protectors of Descendant-kind.
To the Druids
SpoilerTo my brothers and sisters, I hope that you realize the doom that you bring upon yourselves. The lull that we druii now find ourselves in has become the focus of the disdain that our deities have for us. Our inability to prevent shifts in the balance and blatant negligence of our responsibility has all but condemned us, and so I plead to all of you. Change your ways and uphold the promises you made when you took your blessing. We rise from the water with the ability to speak and listen to nature, but even with this great gift its pleas for help have fallen upon deaf ears. We are protectors of the balance, not restorers, so think about this when the next great threat arises.
To Arcelia
SpoilerArcelia my dear, I know you hated it when I called you that, but you were the best thing that has happened to me since the time I spent with Carolina. You brought joy to my life and truly made me happy. I wished for so many things with you, and while I had to give up on some dreams for you, it was worth every sacrifice. I know things may not have worked out, but I had hoped they would, but now I am free and I head to the place where I can wait for you. I love you.
((OOC Note)):
SpoilerThank you to everyone whom I rpd with during the year that I had this character. He was one of the first characters I received on the server, and I've had him almost as long as I've been on LOTC itself. You all made his story enjoyable and an absolute thrill to be able to play out. Shoutouts to @Werew0lf & @ScreamingDingo, especially for giving him an amazing story and enemies. He died the way he lived, and I cannot have asked for a better way to play out. Love you all and take care of yourselves.
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A very based and much needed change to herb lore, God bless Raiderblue
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The Silent Song in the Dark Below
13th of Deep Cold. 114 of the Second Age
[!] An artist's depiction of the mineral-coated beast that lives within the depths of the Amaethean homeland.
The First Venture
What was meant to be the simple exploration of a newly exposed cave within the Amaethean homeland has turned into a most dreadful of situations. The entrance itself was a bit macabre for what was supposed to be a set of abandoned ruins. Littering the side of the dimly lit entrance was a cart. One obliterated and tipped over onto its side, but hanging from it was a tattered and worn violet banner with an unrecognizable symbol. The corpse of a toddler lay beside it, arrow-ridden and rotting beneath unseen cave leeches. Foul creatures quickly proceeded to attack our band of light-touched adventurers. With swift and decisive action our group of warriors quickly dispatched those beasts and cleared the cave-in that blocked our path, and what awaited us was not something I would have ever expected.
An unnatural beast, unresponsive to the call, and absent from the song swims through the stones of those exposed caves. Its gleaming ore-covered exoskeleton protects it from above as it skitters around those dark depths. And though those ruins seem to remain unexplored, countless corpses litter the inner cavern’s ceiling hanging from long strands of webbing like gruesome chandeliers. This language, old and forgotten, decorates the walls.
"Nind inbal doer"
With all that has happened I remain unsure of what to do and how it all adds up, but I will seek you, the greatest warriors of all Descendant-kind to answer this summons. When I come and ask, respond to this call to arms, and let man, mali, uruk, and dwed come together once more to slay the beast and explore these ruins.Uell ito Maruthiran,
His Grace, Acanthus Onar Taliame’onn Daesmon Silma Vuln’muriel,
The Former IV High Prince of Elvendom, Lord of Amaethea,
& the King of Thorns
15 -
The King of Thorns takes his Warhammer and polishes it beside a river as he sighs. The 'Ame lamenting the incoming loss of life, "A shame we have come to such a point, but if life must be taken for more to be saved then so be it. Let their deaths be swift and mercy plentiful."
3 -
The King looked south from beside the light atop his citadel. He would fold the missive and place it within his sleeve as he nodded and turned to make his way down the numerous stone steps that lined Amaethea's streets. "As the leader of a land once scorned by dragons, I must make sure that no others come to share the fate that my people had when the titan burned down our city. Amaethea will rally for our friends, and we will maintain and uphold the balance for such is our duty, such is my duty." Acanthus eventually reaches the base of his city and looks upon his men and those people he trusts. The Missive would be read out to the masses and his soldiers made aware, his alchemists preparing, and the rest praying.
4 -
The Covenant of Wood and Sun
~The Declaration of Divine Friendship~
The Princedom of Amaethea and the Order of the Golden lion both sign this missive as an official sign of friendship and showing of unity. We stand firmly and jointly in our goal to be a shining light for all descendant-kind and in this, we will aid each other in the areas allowed to us. Amaethea stands as one of the Order’s stalwart defenders and friends, and the Order aids Amaethea in its quest to be the light in the west.
Uell ito Maruthiran,
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Acanthus Onar Daesmon Silma, High Prince of Elvendom & King of Thorns
13 -
The High Prince looks up to the sleigh that passed overhead and smiles briefly as then continued to draw his plans. “Well someone’s come early this year. I sure do hope he brings people some joy this time around.” The Druid would continue on about his day, unaware of the tragedy that befell his neighbors.
4 -
MC Name:
Agentkhov
Character's Name:
Acanthus Daesmon
Character's Age:
53
Character's Race:
Elf
What magic(s) will you be learning?
Druidism
Teacher's MC Name:
GlassySkies
Teacher's RP Name:
Ventys
Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:
no
Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:
Yes
Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?
Yes
0 -
The High Prince sat at a desk made of dark oak from the fallen trees surrounding Amaethea. He would hold the missive in taloned gauntlets as he nodded before his forehead rested against those bronze plates of his people. "This is good... something that should've happened long ago, but good news, nonetheless." He would rise and look to his son with a sigh "Vallein had to die for this, but I will keep my uncle and his wishes in my heart when I speak to Valyris next.
10 -
The silence was all that hung in the air as the High Prince stood in the center of his throne room. He would have his letter in hand, those gloved mitts of his finding themselves curled into fists and pressed into his eyes before he took his crown and threw it at the throne. "WHY DID HE HAVE TO DIE... WHAT PURPOSE DID IT SERVE...?" Golden hues focused upon the stag etched into the ground as he thought out loud, "What good is the symbolism of the protector if I cannot even save my uncle? What has to be done for this senseless violence to end?" He would rise to the light of Malin atop the citadel and gaze east as he spoke to nothing, the young 'Ame seeking guidance from the sky. "Could I have saved him, had I taken his offer? The position of his Champion."
12 -
MC Name:
Agentkhov
Character's Name:
Anton Otto Kortrevich
Character's Age:
31
What feat(s) will you be learning?
Alchemy
Teacher's MC Name:
Marsloll
Teacher's RP Name:
Cecilya
Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:
Yes
Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:
No
Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?
Yes
0 -
The Pact of the Forest and Snow
18TH OF THE GRAND HARVEST, 104 S.A | 18th I VE TOG AG YERMEY, 453 E.S
~Sovereignty~
The Princedom of Amaethea & The Kingdom of Haense hereby recognize each other’s sovereignty and their right to their held lands, as well as their apparent ability to expand these lands.
~Non-Aggression~
The Princedom of Amaethea & The Kingdom of Haense hereby pledge to make no acts of aggression upon each other’s lands to retain a mutual peace between the two sovereign entities.
~Trade~
The Princedom of Amaethea & The Kingdom of Haense hereby pledge to share any information on darkspawn they may have, in doing this they may both finally catch ‘em all.
~Extradition~
The Princedom of Amaethea & The Kingdom of Haense hereby pledge to extradite those who have been proven to be darkspawn or dark mages at each other’s request. In doing so they hope to cleanse further the World of the dark beings that plague it.
~Duration~
This pact between The Princedom of Amaethea & The Kingdom of Haense shall last for a duration of 10 years, and upon its expiry, it may be revisited to be reinstated or for something else entirely to be drawn up.
IN THE NAME OF GOD,
His Royal Majesty KARL III by the Grace of Godan, King of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Prince of Bihar, Dules, Lahy, Muldav, Solvesborg, Slesvik and Ulgaard, Duke of Carnatia and Vanaheim, Margrave of Korstadt, Rothswald and Vasiland, Count of Alban, Alimar, Baranya, Graiswald, Karikhov, Karovia, Kaunas, Kavat, Kovachgrad, Kvasz, Markev, Nenzing, Torun, and Toruv, Viscount of Varna, Baron of Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, Rytsburg, Thurant and Astfield, Lord of the Westfolk, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera
Her Excellency The Aulic Envoy,, Esfir Amelya Rose Kortrevich
Uell ito Maruthiran,
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Acanthus Onar Daesmon Silma, High Prince of Elvendom & Prince of Thorns
7 -
Brother I hope you enjoyed your time away. Now that you’re back is there anything you still wanna do that’s been a long-standing goal of yours? Or will you be spending your time with friends and catching up?
1 -
In the deepest depths of the obsidian chapel, a canticle of crying steel is heard. A young bull works with flames and ashes as he forged tools for himself when something strides in with a missive in hand.
A midnight talon reached out to acquire the news, a gloved appendage setting down the hammer he had used to make his tune. Umber and grey hues scanning the words of that given page, rivulets of tears flowing from his eyes…
“Of all the people it had to be, why him…” The young lord set himself beside the fire, his orbs trained upon its flames as he spoke in a soft voice. “I needed to speak to him, I needed to apologize, I never meant the words I had said…” His reddened eyes turn to the beings in his company, “of all the people I had left he was one of the last who I loved… papej, I’m so sorry.” Laughter is heard resounding through the depths of the chapel, his company reveling in his despair. The man buried his head in his hands, malice filling his heart once more. “I loved him you fools, but I never got to tell him…”
In his eternal desolation, the young Lord rose, and silence befell the chamber. He grabbed his things and made his way out as those servants made way for him. The “knight of Stars” as he was once proclaimed making his way back north, back home.
4 -
MC Name:
Agentkhov
Character's Name:
Antonius Vilac
Character's Age:
25
What feat(s) will you be learning?
Alchemy
Teacher's MC Name:
SilvertheDM
Teacher's RP Name:
Aurelion Marsyr
Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:
Yes
Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:
No
Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?
Yes
1 -
Dawn of the Glaive Guard
The 4th of the Malin's Welcome, 101 SA
~ Purpose & Immediate Effects~
Much time has passed since the military was last reformed and updated, and in that time much has happened. This city has burned, rebuilt, and changed its Prince many times. Now within my reign, I believe that it is time for reform and to begin anew. Using our foundations of Mali’Ame and Almenodrim beliefs that we have come to know and respect from our long and proud history, I have sat down in thought and reflection to incorporate these cultural beliefs in ways that I think will better serve our military through specializations and orders.
The Current reforms will take effect immediately, and all current members of the Glaive Guard will choose a specialization from one of the two branches that will emerge with these reforms. No noble houses, nor seeds will be allowed to make a Militia or hold a house guard, their men are to conscript themselves with the Glaive Guard to defend their homes. At most the houses may have a special color or mark on a uniform for their men to represent them and be identifiable for special ceremonies.
All former Oathblades may come forth and present their oaths anew to the current crown of Elvendom, and should their oath be accepted, they will keep their place in Amaethea’s honor guard as members of the immortals. Still, should it be turned down, they must once more face trial and tribulation to reach those heights as they had before.
~ Hierarchy~
-
Lord Commanders: Both branches of the Glaive Guard will have a Lord Commander from which the rest take orders. These leaders report directly to the High Prince and are otherwise seen as the best of the best among their comrades. They are the men who have served the longest and garnered the most decoration. They stand at the forefront of their lines and lead their men both in battle and in training.
-
Officer: Any man or woman can become an Officer with enough time and dedication. Working with the others, they will be responsible for certain tasks ranging from managing the armory to training the newer recruits. There can be up to three officers per branch of the Glaive Guard, and an Immortal can no longer be an Officer once selected for the Honor Guard.
-
Neophytes: These are the recruits and beginners of the Glaive Guard’s forces. They make up the brunt of the military and will train and learn until they become Mali’ who are well versed in as many forms of combat as they can learn.
~Structure~
Wardens: Wardens are your run-of-the-mill guards. They find themselves responsible for the day-to-day tasks of the military and upholding the city’s laws. Gate duty, patrols, and escort missions are regular daily tasks for these men and women.
-
Upholding the Law - Each Warden is provided a Tome of Order which holds inside all of the laws of the land and the punishments that can be appropriately given based on the spot if it is required. Greater cases require the Wardens to detain and hold a prisoner until a Trial can take place, presided over by either the High Prince, Exarch, or one of the Lord Commanders.
-
Patrols - The guards will go through the city and surrounding area patrolling and surveying the lands to make sure that they can maintain a strong presence. These patrols will also serve as a means for them to stay in touch with the community and be able to intervene in any crimes they may come across.
Guardian: Guardians are a new and specialized unit within the bounds of the Glaive Guard. These are men and women who adhere to the beliefs of the ‘Ame and Almenodrim, and in doing so seek out knowledge and artifacts around the globe going out of their way to protect them. They are the keepers of the special library and sworn defenders of the items they have chosen to protect.
-
Seafaring Pursuits: The Guardians will protect the shores of Amaethea and often sail out to sea to explore and defend the balance of nature where they can. They are well-trained Rangers/Sailors and live exploratory lives to find knowledge and protect it.
-
Scouting - They focus on going across the continents, mapping as they go, and noting down areas of interest such as ruins, caves, tombs, covens, and the like, to study later. They will lead expeditions to raid ruins and tombs and focus on the acquisition of artifacts, books, and knowledge.
Immortals: The Honor Guard of Amaethea, is bound to serve the crown and protect it. Both from those who may be tyrants, and those who would seek to cause the Crown harm. Though their wide-ranging functions include serving as warriors, scouts, researchers, and teachers of history for the Elves, they may be more directly considered the backbone and guiding light of the Mali of Elvenesse. The Immortals will be limited to 7 Warriors, the best of all the Glaive Guard.
-
The Best of Them - The Immortals are men and women who have come from the other branches and have proved to be the greatest warriors among their peers. They have the trust of the crown and are seen to be those responsible for the Amaethean motto, “Uell Ito Maruthiran” - Death to Tyrants.
-
Scholarly Pursuits - This includes organizing and categorizing books and artifacts in the library, museum, and vault, researching items in the vault, teaching citizens of Elvenesse about their history, guiding order members to information or artifacts they need, and keeping up on safe containment protocols for any items of power held in the vault.
Uell ito Maruthiran,
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Acanthus Onar Daesmon Silma, High Prince of Elvendom and Amaethea, and Prince of Thorns
9 -
-
The Pact of the Forest and Iron
~Sovereignty~
The Iron Horde and Princedom of Amaethea hereby recognize each other’s sovereignty and their right to their held lands and their apparent ability to expand these lands.
~ Non-Aggression ~
The Iron Horde and Princedom of Amaethea hereby pledge to make no acts of aggression upon each other’s lands in order to retain a mutual peace between the two sovereign entities.
~Trade~
The Iron Horde and Princedom of Amaethea hereby pledge to share any information on darkspawn they may have, in doing this they may both finally catch ‘em all.
~Extradition~
The Iron Horde and Princedom of Amaethea hereby pledge to extradite those who have been proven to be darkspawn or dark mages at each other’s request. In doing so they hope to further cleanse the West of the dark beings that plague it.
~Duration~
This pact between the Iron Horde and the Princedom of Amaethea shall last for 10 years. Upon its expiry, it may be revisited to be reinstated or for something else entirely to be drawn up.
Uell ito Maruthiran,
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Acanthus Onar Daesmon Silma, High Prince of Amaethea & Elvendom
REX, Willy of San’Velku and the Iron HordeDOMINUS, Madoc'Lur, The Keeper of Knowledge
8 -
The Last to Break the Chains
The 18th of the Snow’s Maiden, 100 SA
~ The Thoughts of this Prince~
Malin'or as an entity has all but vanished in the eyes of the Mali who once pledged allegiance to it. The premise will live on in the hearts and minds of those who claim there is "no king but Malin," but Amaethea as a nation will not endorse a falsified High Prince, one who is not elected by those who rule. You can allege it, but you're nevertheless the High Prince of nothing. Amaethea will perceive sovereignty and, like our Mali'ker and Mali'aheral brothers, we will unshackle ourselves from the bonds that bind us to this union. So, as Prince Royarch, I, Acanthus Onar Daesmon Silma, reclaim my title of High Prince of Amaethea, as the title has been utilized by this crown since the time of Aegrothond, and with the light of Malin scorching above our city walls and the ideologies of Malin'or in our consciences, we will continue to devote our time and expertise to justify making Amaethea the haven for all that it has always been.
Uell ito Maruthiran,
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Acanthus Onar Daesmon Silma, High Prince of Elvendom & Amaethea,
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Alaesia Prisgoth Ithelanen, High Princess of Elvendom & Amaethea
~ Daring claims ~
Claiming the title High Prince of Malin'or among counselors and elder monarchs without the blessing or comprehension of Malin'or's fashion discloses you to be a dullard. Daring claims befall your utterances, - I admire your desire to preserve what was once considered to be an admiring unity among elves before it fell into the wrong hands of heirs seeking to write their name into history. However, implying to be the High Prince of Malin'or while lacking support is an offense.
Signed,
Sarya Elathana Tundrak, Princess of the Mali’fenn
22 -
MC Name:
Agentkhov
Character's Name:
Acanthus Daesmon
Character's Age:
46
What feat(s) will you be learning?
Alchemy
Teacher's MC Name:
MapleSunflower
Teacher's RP Name:
The White Angel
Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:
Yes
Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:
No
Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?
Yes
0
The Owl's Summons
in Miscellany
Posted
The Owl’s Summons
Art Source
A Letter to the Sons of the Four
Children of the four, Dwarves, Elves, Humans, and Uruks. The end of Almaris is upon us. The Brothers of Brev have made us aware that should the lands of Krugmar and Celia’nor fall, then the end of this realm is all but certain. The Mani, Ohowaki Princess of Owls has made it painfully aware to my fellowship and me that the Mori use our state of disarray to divide further and conquer us. We are weak, split off from each other, and doomed to fall alone should we refuse to work together as we are supposed to do.
Our ancestors once worked to stave off an attack from The Deceiver himself yet here we stand, split off and at war with each other, and for what? What use do our conflicts have other than to further prove to the Mori that, they are right? We are attacked not because they are evil, but because we as descendants have failed to protect that which GOD has given us. Time and time again the land has been torn, tainted, and trashed and all of us whether we be Druii or otherwise have yet to do anything about it. We have yet to prove worthy of that which we have been blessed with. Voidal Tears, Draconic intervention, and the staining of the skies in supernatural colors have done nothing but serve our interests, not the earth we take from.
Now we stand at a precipice where all descendants must choose to act and unite or ignore the summons and die alone. So as I have been commanded, I now offer unto you a choice. Stand with me in the Ruins of San Luciano when the time comes or stand and die within the walls you so choose to protect. Alone.
Follow the Sun,
Uell Ito Maruthiran,
Cernuno, The Star-Scourge,
and Son of the King of Thorns