exogens

That cookie would be consumed the moment the CRP/Event probably ended. However, jokes aside, an interesting concept I'd love to see. However, personal suggestion, I feel like one-two potions maximum should be applied.

After a long, tiring day for everyone in Celianor, a simple square argument that turned to be escalated miserably ended up with two injured elves. Both were honorable Scions; each wished and agreed on the terms, all because the Lunatic young elf wished nothing but to maintain his family's honor, which soon turned out to be a waste for him as he deemed them unworthy of his efforts. The duel ended with two moderately injured people, Valindra and Cruan, being sent to the clinic to be treated that day. However, the inexperienced, younger Scion was clearly more damaged in such circumstances. He lost a kidney and his vision that day. He felt like he accomplished something, but for what? His dreams, which turned into dust, were lost along with the duel he had. He wished death for himself. He did not wish to continue, but his pettiness is what keeps his flame alive. He wished to prove everyone wrong and to have specific people have their deeds paid for. But how? While he is stubborn, he wishes for nobody's help, not even his father, whom he seems to disapprove of now. He needed a way to continue with his plans, no matter how much it takes, as long as it does not take his honor with him. He rather threw the cane angrily across his room while he held onto his blindfold. Weeping silently as if he had no hope left. Though, as his hopes was rather diminished now, his vision slowly started to show again. He paused, momentarily looking at his room for anything odd enough to believe this was no lucid dream. Indeed, there was something odd.. His action figure seemed to appear darker, as if it were pitch black. The moment he tried to hold it to inspect it, it rather faded into smoke. Thinking he was losing his head, he turned around. Just to find a dark crow laughing menacingly, striking the earth with a loud thunder outside his home. It rather disappeared out of sight. Cruan did not know what that was, or what had happened. However, all he had in mind was that his tears of plead did not go to waste, and he was thankful for whatever the reason was that restored his sight.

The Grandfather of the Groom was practically asleep during the whole private ceremony due to his declining health, he however woke up after the ceremony came to an end, cheerful to witness such an event that reminded him of his youth 60 years ago.

+1 love using this on my ancient Templar

I get your idea, and that’s what I originally kept in mind always while writing this, hence I made the potion very expensive with little reward and you’ll rely on luck mainly as you’ll need to get 13 or above in rolls. I might try to make the rolls above 16, if I feel like the potion will be abused Changelog: Completely removed the Dralachite potion now

“Today shall be the day where the sorcerer, the alchemist, and the Nephilim shall be in one vessel in order to feel complete for the Firstborn's pleasure." - Father of Draconic Alchemy « I say that there is power in the nephilim’s speech. Dare I say, there is power in our very intent. What if we could take intent and take it to a boil? This would be alchemy fit for a dragon. » - The An-Gho giving his hypothesis to his own Heralds. Vs'shtak Emdjina - Draconic Alchemy Draconic Alchemy - A long forgotten art recently dragged upward from the deep well of lost knowledge. A successful Draconic alchemist is one who is manipulative; welding matter in peculiar ways to create potions consisting of the material plane's resources and draconic reagents placed onto Heralds by the Arch-Drakaar himself, Azdromoth. The idea of Draconic alchemy, to those who know of it, is associated with flame and heat-related practices. Such things often involve weaving both mundane alchemy methods and those of Dragons together, typically pieces of bodies or Draan itself. Tales and whispers ride the wind, reaching the ear of many Heralds and Nephilim, that of an Ancient Nephilim seeking true enlightenment and honing himself like a sword upon a grindstone. His rope was cut short, his research halted as Iblees captured the Nephilim, and wringing the child of Azdromoth dry as his craft was stolen from him by the Arch-Daemon. The ending to the tale has been lost to time, and the Father of Draconic Alchemy nowhere to be found. It's theorized that the knowledge was lost and intentionally hidden by Iblees - modern Nephilim mostly unaware of the practice. Despite these attempts, lost scriptures, notes and carvings on stone were found in various hoards of Nephilim by one obsessed with the old rumors. He gathered this knowledge and compiled it into his own research, fuelled by the aid of the modern Nephilim, resurrecting the eternal flame once more, and fuelling progression. —————————————————————————————————————————— Reagents: Liquid Draan: —————————————————————————————————————————— Recipes Dragonsblood: Dragur’s Wax: The Titan’s Mercy: Drakes Domain: Dragon Dreaming: Vehement’s Catalyst: OOC Purpose: References: Credits: (Those who will be Grandfathering the Alchemy Knowledge).

As written by the Previous Count of Pacidia & l'Arbre d'Or The Denouncement of Titles Anno Domini, 1955 To the Citizens of the United Kingdom of Aaun, May our Lord's blessings fall upon those who read this missive. This missive has been written as I, Emir, the Aging Rosius, have decided to speak up about my concerns about the vassal that has taken me under its wing for the longest time since the Petran Civil War. I have been under Haute-Epine ever since my nephew, Louis the II, took power after my own twin's death. It was always a duty of mine to keep its head up and serve it as if it were my own, in order to show appreciation and respect for them for lifting my spirits. However, in recent years, ever since my nephew's abdication, Haute-Epine has not been the same. It is rather a deserted area that does absolutely nothing to return its glory as it once was as one of the founders of the nation. Rather, it was only myself keeping it alive as long as I could. However, sadly, it has not made much of a difference. As a result, I have decided to finally drop all my titles that were given to me by Haute-Epine, including my knightly status. This missive, however, does not mean that I have any ill feelings towards my own kin, but for the sake of my health and my family's future, I am ready to restart from 0, where my efforts would finally be as valuable as I wish for them to be, and to finally restore my family's original name that was abandoned. This is simply the only way I see that would remove the glass ceiling above me, to reach endless possibilities to serve myself and, more importantly, the nation I love. GOD BE WITH US, Emir of the House de Rosius, Seneschal and Treasurer of The United Kingdom The Destructor of Horrors Master of Logistics and Rear-Admiral of The Aaunic Royal Navy The Grandmaster of the Nexus

The Ancient One wiped off his sweat as he took a breath in order to read the announcement after his dauntless work at Phase I. He then scanned through it quickly before reaching the 5th point as he somewhat groaned "Phase two shall start then..." He then went over to prepare the necessary equipment to achieve such.

The old Herald Sorcerer, Emir, went over to show the missive to his mentor, The An-Gho of such news as he let out an old, tired cackle. “It seems like we got what we wanted, no? We can pay them an actual visit whenever you’re ready.” He suggested, after he seemed proud of himself, being the sole reason of damaging one of their light temples. @Jentos

"Far off from retirement, I see." The elder Emir commented out while he was grieving. Though this somewhat helped him form a smile on his face.

THE BEGINNING OF ETERNAL ENMITY The witnessing of the death of Ivette d'Abbassia, daughter of 'The Ancient One' One peaceful evening, the Elder walked around with his Raev friend, Arpad, around the borders of Whitespire to go herb-hunting and pretty much talk about one of their many talks in regard to their works. Until then, Arpad walked to the area where Ivette was. He did mention something about his daughter being there shortly after, when she and her father talked and laughed and shared a wonderful father-daughter moment together. But little did he know... IT WOULD BE THEIR LAST. Upon a distance, Emir called to his daughter to check on her if she needed anything, but instead of finding his own daughter, he found a vile, wicked creature that, for some reason, had its wings wrapped around itself, apparently concealing something, either from preventing its prey from escaping or to prevent anyone from outside from seeing what was going on. Though the Wise Elder did notice droplets of blood, his daughter's belongings, and most importantly, a child, which was his own grandchild at the side, He did indeed assume the worst. With a bloodcurdling yell, "IVETTE?" was echoed around the entire hill. With that, the creature, commonly known as Vukosav, the Demonic, Vampiric Blood Mage, turned around slowly, taunting the elder with a mocking, sarcastic laughter that was filled with nothing but his ego and evil aura. He slowly turned back and mentioned its demonic aura while standing near the portal as he engulfed Ivette with them. He spoke in a mocking manner. "Oh, the Father? Have you come to save the poor child of yours?" Emir, trying to battle through his tears and grief at the moment, saw nothing but red, just as the blood drops that were trailing all the way to him, he yelled out while pulling his own magical arcane katana, which appeared to have volcanic fissures coming out of it, while sizzling out some sparks of flame, while instructing the Ordained Herald to do the same: "Damn right, the father. I hope you enjoyed that meal, because it surely would be your last." echoed once again around the area. It was filled with confidence. The strategist started to form around the tip of his blade some sort of spell as he carefully aimed it at the Ibleesian follower. As he did that, the enemy saw through his confidence, which surely would come to dust at that. He slowly glanced to what appeared to be a 1-year-old child. Kneeling slowly towards it as it mockingly cooed the child after it spread its wings whilst taking a flight, having the child within his arms, near the portal that it was summoned from, responding "How about we play a little game? Either I leave, unharmed and alive, and I leave this child with you. Or you attempt anything stupid, and I will take it with me. I shall give you the choice to grieve over one instead of two." The demon saw through the elder's weakness. It was not his fear of death, but the fear of witnessing his own family doing so. He battled through his tears, helplessly, as he ordered the Herald to stand by, yelling out to the Demonic entity while he kept his spell. He paused on standby, yelling out a grunt, as he decided to choose between rationality and revenge. "FINE! But if you attempt to do anything that is outside your little deal, you WOULD NOT like the result. Move a muscle, other than letting the child down gently, and it would become a grave mistake for you." He spoke with enmity in his tone. His voice was filled with hatred, yet he felt an ache in his heart. He did not focus on his own grief but more on saving another soul if he could. He pointed his sword in the direction of the demon, waiting for him to do as he requested. Emir did know and witness, and he even talked to a few Warlocks within his lifetime, and he knew that most of them never kept to their words; hence, he was too careful when aiming his spell between the portal and the Demon. Surprisingly, this time the demon kept to his word, just like the old man did, though he did know it was done, not because of 'honor' but more because of the better decision between the two. He saw the demon teleport away. But before he could, he did yell out to him. "This won't be the last of you. I swear on my honor, which I never break. Even if it takes 10,000 years, I will never turn to stone until I serve your head as my own cup and drink from it." The promise was given. The deal was sealed between the two. The first thing he did was rush towards the dead body. He attempted to salvage anything remaining to save the youngest daughter of Alizee, the first countess of Pacidia. Heartbeat tests, temperature testing, and iris reactions to light were found to be of no avail. His youngest child, the one who looks identical to himself as a daughter, was dead. At first, he was in denial, unable to comprehend the fact that he witnessed a child of his own die while he did not save her, let alone avenge her. From a course of silent weeping, soaking his tears at her bloodied clothes. He could not help but have his memory bring back everything, from the first day she was born to the point where they had their last laugh together, where he fulfilled her promise of being 'one' to bury her immortal father by taking her to the beach to do so, in order to honor her words, as she never specified doing so when he's dead. Arpad laid a hand on the elder's shoulder in an attempt to comfort the man. Telling him that the child was safe and that they should go home to tend to her. Emir did not budge. The first thing he wished to do was preserve his daughter's body, casting a spell on her in order to not turn into a rotten body later on. He had plans for later. He decided to get up, wipe his tears, and pick up his daughter the same way he did when she was an infant. Being the first and last to see, hear, and carry her. He managed to place her body somewhere secure, yet away from anyone's reach. As he got upstairs to the docks, Pondering silently about the plans Arpad mentioned: "Who was that? Was it a target or an unlucky fate? Do you know him? What was he?" He flooded the wise man with questions. He indeed responded to each of them according to their true facts. After a while, the area remained silent. It was as if Emir had a plan set up in his head. After it was nighttime, He managed to get up, tend to take care of his daughter, and manage to go to his secret room. To plan a billboard of his own, whilst wearing his daughter's bloodied necklace, which he embraced with all the love he could ever give. He had one thing in mind, even if it meant it would take eternity. TO KILL VUKOSAV AND AVENGE HIS DAUGHTER. No one knew, not even his closest family and friends, that this was the beginning of an ultimate war between the Follower of the Titan, Azdromoth, and the Follower of the Arch-Daemon, Iblees. IVETTE MADELINE D'ABBASSIA of HAUTE-EPINE 1910-1954 "May she rest in the 7 skies with her mother and ancestors, peacefully. Please send out your prayers and condolences to the previous count." Members of Ivette's family would grieve for a whole year in honor of the late lady.

"I cant believe myself that mocking your aiming skills were the last laugh I would ever heard from you. A loyal Knight, and a good father you were. Requestcat in pace, Leopold." 'The Ancient One' muttered out as he lit up the third candle for the day.

You clearly have misread the entire thing. I did say HYPERthermia, not HYPOthermia. Which means the body temperatures would increase more than normal whenever feeling sick. This is mainly used to balance out the use of the potion so the Corcituras would not starve to death. If you read the introduction, Draconic Alchemy was not really made for just Heralds but also for regular humans. Liquid Draan is just the 'lifeforce' of which Azdromoth blessed the heralds to utilize their spells or magics. Hence, it would be a necessary reagent for it to differentiate between regular alchemy and Draconic, just like Necromancers with Lifeforce and Naztheraks with Rakir. Making it just Liquid Mana would be out of place, especially when Azdrazis themselves cannot extract that due to their anti-magical properties, so why would it be called draconic alchemy if it’s just no different than the others? It also plays an important role in not making it widespread, just so it wouldn't be overused and overpowered. If all things fail, least I can do is just submit the Liquid Draan as an addition to the Canon Energies. As for how many emotes in combat, Its really up to the ST to decide on that. Though if you have any more concerns, feel free to shoot it <3

“The Father, The Sorcerer, The Alchemist, all collected in one body to bless his children and the sons of Horen.” « I say that there is power in the nephilim’s speech. Dare I say, there is power in our very intent. What if we could take intent and take it to a boil? This would be alchemy fit for a dragon. » - The An-Gho giving his hypothesis to his own Heralds. Vs'shtak Emdjina - Draconic Alchemy Draconic alchemy is an ancient, long-forgotten practice, which was recently recovered, of manipulating matter to create potions using the material plane’s resources and draconic reagents that were gifted by the Arch-Drakaar, Azdromoth. Often associated with flame and heat-related practices, which often involve a fusion of processes between mundane alchemy, Draconic body parts, and/or manipulation of Draan. In Draconic folklore, it was believed that these potions were mainly created by Azdromoth to serve nobody but the sons of Horen to protect themselves from outside threats, while there are rarely potions that are made to aid Azdrazi themselves, especially when they lack the ability to indulge potions. These potions were given as gifts to saints and rulers for accepting them in their societies peacefully and for Heralds to utilize, due to their limited magical abilities. It was believed the ancient knowledge was lost after Iblees and his followers completely wiped out the knowledge, making most of the Azdrazi forget about its existence, and it has been one of their goals to gain the secrets back, for The Titan’s pleasure. —————————————————————————————————————————— Reagents: Liquid Draan: —————————————————————————————————————————— Recipes Bane of Malghourn: Dragur’s Wax: CREDITS:

Common Green W

The Ancient One received the invitation as a smile started to form on his face, though he still had the heavy urge to bully Leutwin due to his aging patience. "That little shit is finally getting married. I can't believe it. Oh well, he's a good lad, lets be fair." He muttered to himself as he prepared a gift, despite he might not be able to attend. Holy Ser Cedric received the invitation as he started to speak calmly yet loudly to himself "GOTT BLESS DE KINDER OF MINITZ. ICH BARE WITNESS IN THIS MARRIAGE INFRONT OF GOTT UND HIS SERVANTS." He then proceeded to prepare to attend, but with no gift as marriage nullifies sin.

The Ancient One, whom had a long history in Celianor for over 40 years decided to check on the available properties there to conduct his business with the fellow elven friends.

MC Name: exogens RP Name: Gaafar Al Salibi Persona ID: TBD

Despite having made some questionable decisions, you were still better than a lot of possible choices and you undoubtedly did some good things for the server. Enjoy your retirement mate :salute:

MC-Name: Siliti RP-Name: Cruan Amethil Persona-ID: 79596

The father of the groom would smile as he rested in his home in Minitz within his rocking chair outside his abode as he held the invitation papers, he couldn't help but smile, knowing the child he raised alone has grown up to be a chivalrous soon-to-be husband with his own efforts. He then muttered "I'm proud of you, Ollie. Always keep my head raised, with GOD's will."

"So... you finally ate yourself to death?" The brother of the dead viscount attempted to jest one last time in a pained chuckle as it slowly died out from another sorrowful death that came by one of his closest family members. He gave a heavy sigh at that for the last time as he spoke once again "Rest up, Franz... Tell my dead loved ones that I said hi."