kindEmperor

Elden Ring Lord Of Chaos - Tribute【GMV】

“Death following, death watching, as each step was followed with the next”

Then like how most things started the day was young, the sun lit in the cold wind aching for it to be warm. They birthed a new flame mother of it - He the dwarf walked that path that he rightfully set out, it haunted him, it overtook Brankhyn the thought to embrace it was overwhelming. But how could he have any regrets? He sent out letters and had his last words spoke clearly

The halls of fire, the halls of everlasting dreams sworn to truth to freedom overlapped the dwarf as he bid his last. 

“Draakopf do not fret, you started I and now I have become that very thing” 

“Let us not dream or speak, let us take action - for that is thou reality, our reality.”  

“Thus sweetness is made in calamity and in that there births anew, something odd ; ancient. Fire and stone. 

“The thousand steps, the fire does not die or quake it simply awaits it begging to be fed it ever avarice it lacked as much beverage, thus it swallows you whole old friend”

Then the thousand, steps yet none began.

The Doomforged in all his mortality and his young life answered to the An-Gho and the prophet answered with

“When do you wish to die?” 

Then with each step - With every single step it felt like a thousand in this finite mind of his. Brankhyn embraced the thought he sang to himself, he dreamed in the moment… He was full of everything and anything yet nothing. He could not lie nor spout the truth. What was this? This feeling that death awaited, he could not. But this is something that he needed to do for the betterment.

“Donny cannot see, he wouldn’t understand. But he will” 

Said he who took on the thousand steps with his mentor. Of stone and fire, he followed the statue as he tried to embrace to imagine the reality that was to be. He faced the starving fire… It begged to be fed. Those flames danced with it and sang with its cackling in the sunken depths of tor - azdroth. 

That thing that stood beside the Doomforged spewed terrible secrets, ohh they were something to be locked away in a deep vault. the thought began to embrace it all emerged. The thought embraced now it was only the fire to be left…

 Then the prophet clung onto his leal warrior ‘Brankhyn’ the first of his name and threw him unto the starving flames..

“The dwarf being burned alive by scorching flames”

No time to dream, no time to slumber, no words could leave now action is dyre.

The avarice starving fire was fed Brankhyn. It clamped and clung onto him quickly engulfing him whole it crawled in places none would know and in enveloped his form - His bones popped and splat open, they struck open with booms that called out through the halls His skin bursting open, terrible moans of anguish. The ugly screams of great pain left… then

From ash to ash to ash there will be what is released, now there's only ash… 

That which is within is like that which is without;

that which is without is like that which is within.

“Sacrificed himself to bid my word, for I am reality itself I am”

Then the bells rang like a song, a poem dancing. Something arose, a warrior of yore marked with ancient scales horns exploding from its head crowned atop like royalty - those scales riddled across him erupting like a volcano birthing lava.. Eyes were red and gold serpentine. They judged and they observed. It stood like a beaming tower that touched the stars.

From stone to scale, my wings are torn,

 A song of death do I sing. 

A curse to fear, a rite to mourn

Love not the pain I bring.

 Splendor to dust,

 my soul forlorn,

 We are your fallen kings. 

But now we die, to be reborn, When daemons clip our wings.”

That thing watched and it met the An-Gho with such callousness, such little care it was born cocky; its juvenile behavior bore witness to the prophet. Then it met that golden third eye of his… The eye humbled the thing that rose from the fire, it quickly bowed for it had witnessed it. The thing was curious about the world so it made questions and it made answers out of them - It wondered deeply, it was fascinated and it yearned to know.

please +1 nice work (:

Rok Nardin - Waves

 1st of the first seed. year 100 of the second age

Brankhyn Doomforged facing off with a minotaur.

“Drape yourself with the hide of a great beast you had slain” 

“What is great? Who decides these titles and who makes them? Does the wild monster of the east give itself such? Or is it earned as a race as a whole? Dwarves known to be greedy thus they are titled the most greedy. Orcs tend to spill blood. They are known as warmongers. Perhaps it was I that named it great, through actual war and blood spill”
 

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“Drape yourself in its skin” 

“Its hide is rough, its blood is water swimming down the bank of a river, as I cleave its skin. It is like peeling an apple half dead. This apple as great as it is, still cries.

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“Now place its hide over that ash skin” 

“As its cloying skin was cleaved off. The apple peeled. I draped myself with its hide. It clung to me like a lover. I thought it would reject me. For why wouldn’t it ? I killed its great master. 

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“Why?”

“Why not ? It gives me warmth in the cold. It didn’t look so great on the beast of the hills, it grew old. Still it lofted its mighty axe in the air and thrusted it around. The first spear I threw, Worthless a mere distraction, the shot of explosive metal tore it apart. Now I can sit on top of this mountain with this heavy hide as my protector. It is my triumph 

“Seriously, why ? Award the whole truth on it!” 

“fine.”

“The day was young when I sought out on a hunt to find something, near anything to coat my skin of ash. My eyes of red, scouted and surveyed the lands like orbital stars prying over whatever lurked the hills. I need not ask why I must drape myself in this skin, But I would and I was restless. Though soon It appeared like gold in the river. And I made my attack, in short it fell with a bolt releasing impact and shrapnel across its system. I then brandished a blade then made clothing of its skin, Its blood splattered like a child playing in the sand… I thanked It, for why wouldn’t I ?

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“The fervent Doomforged journey after baring its skin on skin” 

“Then it's a heavy burden and weight placed on my shoulders. I draped myself with its seasoned hide, I walked to a place of rest as I spent the day. Restless yet another burden I was given, yet I cherish each burden as a trophy. I carry it as a dead lover. Now the mountains erected like spears stand before me, Perhaps I should make a throne on the top? Then I rest. Its hide will protect me, as I dream and wonder. Or It will be a nightmare haunting and everlasting. What blunder would that be? If I fell asleep? Not knowing which to expect.

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Brankhyn marched atop to the mountains, after slaying to then cut the skin of the minotaur. He placed its hide over himself, as he made his way to the mountain ever greater in height then he. He began to think of a poem or a song? Just something to distract his mind from the ache of an exhausted body. Then soon enough he had made it. Atop of the hill, atop the mountain he placed himself down. The hide kept him warm, its heat gathering within itself. He then lifted out a strange orb of sort draconic in all nature, he then stared at it.

“Know of this burden, and love it” 

“Know my name. But do not spill it”

“Thous songs are ever so sweet”

“Thy dreams ever so haunting”

“Fonder the skin, and mine ambition, mine passion can take you”

The dancing fire that brimmed in the lamp was dim though set. It flickered the fire with constant action ; those smoldering red eyes of his gave a reaction of wonder, of beauty and a ugly lie, that sung the truth. 

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what does schizo rp mean again ? I only do slice of life rp lulz

Von Draco Bondsman smiles, at his comrades. Two eyes of red setting on the plenty fields full of crop.

"I do wonder what this will turn into"

Some herald of azdromoth wondered if he'd ever met any iblees worshippers before.

Ig it makes sense - mages just sh*t out 20 voidal weapons with enchantments, then sell it for a quick mina. Weaken the voidal magick users those neeks! 

I love meh some Dragon lore!? (please don't pk me/disconnect me) I was not forced to plus one this, I have no reason to lie and I believe that all Dragon lore = good lore luv meh dragons +1

Doomforged went hunting 

[!] 

A missive that seemed to be birthed from fire - with lesser draconic writing would be pinned on a wall on the ancient walls of the monument. The words if readable only by heralds would simply state the following. 

“Went hunting, if I don’t return, three stone days either dead or missing!” 

The note explained with rough writing, the words etched onto the paper with unnecessary speed, and below the missive a signature 

Dragon = based? Jentos lore? = +1

skimmed through the missive as per usual nodding, and agreeing with what was said - though something, though no distinct answer crossed his mind, at reading "The t*sticles of a Xannite" Nonetheless it matter not! He thought.

nub wey

1 Hour Loop "Why do I still live?" (Extended version)

To those who I favored most, who now know not of where they are…

For the days I have spent, wondering, dreaming, and traveling around these accursed lands, where life is not fair and where life is banal where man and dwarf alike preach the same thing with the same similarities but they are oh so ever different, thus I am made anew, scribed by the wailing ash that falls from my form and my boiling crimson eyes. 

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Dear Draakopf fallen kin o’ mine

Killed by the Grand king of Urguan Bakir.

Draakopf grandfather, my father as I called you back in those days of old. You were the one who blessed me and taught me before where I am now, the times we had were imprinted upon me moulded me, and shaped me with splendorous forging, You were the one who protected me against those foul things that hated us so much, but who could blame them for you was ruin? You were uncontrolled fire but served nonetheless. Let me not talk of mine asioth, but father when I see you again? Tell me of yours, I have grown in your memory and I can only pray that I have served you well. . . I am you from ash to ash, but I try to be different, for I cannot war the very gods as you did, I am vigilant and keen, and my voice will be heard and a solution will be made as we promised all those years ago.

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Dear Marius Vilac favoured friend o’ mine

Killed by an unknown Lector.

Marius my good friend, it troubled me when I first heard of your passing, though I did not let it get the better of me. I knew you wouldn’t want it to control my decisions dear friend, you were a meaningful and truthful teacher that many needed but most of all wanted so much, I remember you preaching and I remember how you fought for those very same ideals. . . All I can say now friend is that I can only show your son so much, for he is alike to you in many ways he doesn’t see it as I do. But he is the solution you were looking for! When do I see you again dear brother Marius let us talk about it? Yes? I can see the Dragon inside of your spawn and his flame awakening… 

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Dear Nehtamo, a good friend o' mine 

unknown either missing or dead.

Nehtamo the elf who showed up and did much, I need not recall the number of times you had to save me from those situations, as you already know of that. I wonder what you are doing now? I could sense unease in your eyes, friend, worry, sadness. Though I never understood why it always baffled me what was on your mind. Though you are more capable than most…. Who knows I can hear you now telling me “Bortu no, think again, try again!” I could be wrong, or I could be right. But when we meet again brother Nehtamo, let us not speak about the bad times. The memories of old that were filled with spite, let us talk about the good memories, should I recall that time when Vothdrem was chasing you around, due to you shooting him? Ahh, fun times indeed! 

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Dear Kronk, strong battled hardened warrior and ally.

Death, torn apart and then obliterated by the void. 

 Kronk, I will keep this short, as I have not much to say about you, we have only known each other for some while, but you were a dwarf, a good dwarf but still a dwarf - The blood that swam through you was that of Iron, and your head was carberum, You were a true battle hero among our kin of dwed, there was no army if Kronk were not leading it. I remember that much, Though you did have your faults though all do, you were stubborn and the very thing people admired about you or loathed about you. was the same thing that got you killed. I need not speak of the void and its treachery, Though you stood your ground in times of chaos and that is what matters, Sigrun should be proud that his blood swam through you, and therefore an exceptional warrior was forged Kronk ‘The Grand Stormheart’ When we meet again, let us speak more aye lad? I’ll bring a drink or two.

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I would sit, and I would sing more words to you, my kin, my friends, and my brothers. But the use of speech? And talking? It is time for action, so let me slow down my baffling and let me reveal my tarnished blade, and my ash tongue for stories to tell, and war to sing.

Where your path took you, it will not take me.

Brankhyn Finished short, taking a breath and remembering his fallen comrades. His hands clasped and he fell silent.

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So thou know of my will, allow mine ambition; allow mine passion to take you to that unseen place. . . For I am on my way, the journey is scarce so be thankful. This blade will cleave as justice, through the shadows of the night - to then outshine the dawning sun itself. Thine own eyes are the setting dawn and the rising moon, from ash to ash, to fire on fire. This own command is to love and hate, so let me glimpse it for thou, and tell you of its beauty.

Thee must know what I sing. And where I dance.

Sweet asioth, Great Asioth!

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Ragrin the 'dumb' and the 'mad' would read the missive, before his stomach rumbled similar to that of a belly of a cave before an ugly burp exploded out from his Ire maw. Ragrin would almost snicker and wipe his nose at the paper, feeling somewhat guilty for not being there at the attack itself, for he might have been able to aid Bakir in such an attack. Though nonetheless he still had his opinion, and then he let it out.

I think it is harsh to assume, that these dwarves had wronged us first and left our home due to selfish actions. Would plot, even attempt an assassination on our KING, they would be deemed fools for even having the thought dwell around those troubled minds they all have. Though the need to call them out on it? And make it a statement via fliers around our own city. I do not agree, why not make action against their 'hill' and then demand an explanation?!

Ragrin The 'Dumb' finished, sighing before going to make sure that the Grand king would be in his best condition, though not a shred of doubt slipped past his mind, as he knew that the king was more than capable.

The Von Draco Bondsman (not a doomforged, maybe.) would sigh at the recent passing of Argus

lol, I think CT needs a different color, that's the real issue everyone is scared to bring up smh... Though in actuality a lot of these points stand true in their own way, I feel like a lot of people who apply to CT do it because they got denied by another team, and see CT as an easy opportunity to get on staff, (in the sense, that hey I'll join that team get pex and + I don't have to do much work to improve the server !!!) though this is an arguable point and there's a lot more too it, It's just a shitty example. Either way who cares, just take world teams old color and make it the new ct color 

Also like to mention the use of advertising, strange how this system is not abused as the post states there are loads of social platforms (tik tok) that would get the attention of loads of people if not none, but still it adds a bonus and a benefit and makes sense.... This should of been used years ago.

A curious Doomforged said nothing and sprint jumped around krugmar, as if it was his to own.

woah

wab WAB

nice post

Read the missive thoroughly, not a single word his eyes skipped over he read it like art with each passing moment he found himself to agree with the missive, wrote by the draconic prophet named the An-Gho.

Then so his smouldering gaze finished reading it. A soft smile curling around his ash lips as finally the question the begging question could be answered, he only prayed there was no excuse rather that there was truth.

for he practises this.

YOL

errr never shot a gun would like to see this implemented. This looks like a legit post so I cannot say it is a meme.

nice post 

WOAH WOAH paladin herald nub wey!!??

The Doomforged  raised the missive high to the sky before his duo smouldering eyes set on the paper, sailing past each word with ease. Damnation and lust filled his eyes; his ash lips curling into an ever soft smile as determination followed with his gaze. His form of ashened skin dancing as he raised his sword fire raining from it, he then chanted and prayed waiting for what is to come.