Rhettthecoldone

Midra art? hell yes

Alford Reinhold sat at his desk, comforted to know he was back within the walls of Dun Moindamh, his family’s house. The Agnethe thought of Finnean and Siegfried, wishing them both good fortune whilst their wounds healed. Even though he was able to withstand those frostbitten wretches for now, he knew he needed to learn more and more if he were to protect Petra, his home.

Along the Westernmost valleys of Petra did Alford linger, sat atop a large boulder that had been painted with various sheets of a thick moss. In the distance wandered his loyal horse, which chewed at the tall shrubs about. The bird had already arrived in tandem with his grandfather’s letter, of which he had already read the contents of. The sun, which yawned in shades of purple, pink, and orange, warmed him in whatever strange amalgam of emotion he felt. He didn’t know his grandfather as he thought he should’ve, but regardless, he clung to little moments he shared with the man. A puzzledness set within him, one that begged the question of Alford’s absence of tears. And as the golden sun was lulled to a deep sleep by the silver moon, he too lay to rest upon the rock he sat, dreamless and confused with the shame his dry eyes brought him.

This is so crazy good stingy, i hope it gets accepted!! I especially love the Unravelling section, with all the ooey gooey voidal horror themes. +1,000,000,000,000,000,000,00000000000000000000000000000000

Within a dank cave, illuminated by candlelight sat a pale, elderly man. Nestled within an intertwining throne of ancient roots, he gazed upon the missive through his lightless sight. "So kind? Ominously kind. I am scared." He thought to himself for a time then- "Mercy for the Holiday Season."

The best family EVER

This is cooool

Quality necromancy post? Are we back? (This is so cool, I love it)

Necros dont go to the lifebanks, they just draw power from it by corrupting lifeforce.

Perched atop a large, spindly root was the gangly, frail figure. He sat within that dank cave, a cavern home to giant root systems like spiderwebs. Long, hoarish hair wove through the fuzz of old roots, as the blind sage that bore it clutched to ashen bark with wry and gnarly digits. He saw something in that ancient system of wooden webs, through vestigial eyes. He awoke from a strange sleep with three words, ”Defend The Tree.” Orders were taken swiftly by the blind man’s sacred sentinels, forged by bark of old and ashen.

Hell yes

What has been the most memorable event you’ve been apart of? ET or player-ran. What LoTC MA/FA/CA has interested you to play it over others?

This is perfect! Current necro has way too much ST involvement.

HEAVY AGREE +1

im not really sure how you could reword this to make it make sense for necromancers. there's nothing special about their lifeforce, only that they lose it passively and quickly. im sure you could come up with sum for disguised undead tho.

I’d suggest spoilers, it’ll make it a lot easier to read

I don’t see how this’d work on necros as they dont have an abundance of lifeforce. They’re constantly leaking it, which is why they must drain others. formatting is nice tho!!

It’s a cool magic, however I’m real iffy about the Redemption ritual thingy. By having the option of getting rid of these major character-influencing magics, it takes away from the brutality of not being able to rid yourself of it. It’s supposed to be punishing, damning, and permanent for a character to take on. Having this ritual kinda just wipes that feeling of “no going back” which I’m really not a fan of at all. itd be nicer if the ritual wasn’t for the types of magics that can’t be dropped by natural means.

I don’t disagree with any of this at all. It is simply that if this amendment passes, combative spells will basically never be able to be casted due to people trying to individually attack you. As you have to then drop the charging spell immediately to say a single word to defend yourself. This honestly just makes necromancers more dependent on their summons because combative casting would be much harder to perform.

It doesn't make sense for speaking to take up an entire action in my opinion. ima be charging darkening and someone comes to attack me so i gotta say "defend!" to my summon and restart the charging because i spoke a single word. I dont think this fixes anything with the current state of necromancy as I believe this amendment aimed to do.

The Oaken Weaver adjusted the briary crown upon his head, recalling his willow-wrought minions of bark-flesh and bone. Rich tree sap oozed from their various wounds, in which Larkyn had been tirelessly at work stitching together through webs and dribbles of dark haze. “A job well done. We aided as best we could.” He uttered to his servants, of which the oaken horrors hadn’t responded to. They were mindless, afterall.

That Moon Eyed Mage, after his long talk with his older brother, contemplated for the following days. His head spun in obsessions, like he had been attempting to rewrite reality in some twisted way. Never again did he wish to be alone, like he had been all those years before he made his family with the Reinholds. Despite the long period of time he spent with his new family, it always felt fleeting for him. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he was alone again and that only led him to enjoy the time left while he still could. The Reinholds were a significant chapter of his life, an era of welcoming and understanding. He couldn’t wait to tell his future children the story of his two dearest friends. Even two hundred years from now, nothing could end that ashen-toned elf’s memory of those two. They had become so ingrained in his brain, like a chemical alteration that rewrote his perception of life. He was so alone before, and now… he would have to be alone again. He liked to believe he wouldn’t truly be alone, that the two would be watching over him. It was the only thing he could think of. “See ye’ soon, but not too soon.” He winked at the stars, where his brother claimed he would be. The elf vowed to keep his promise to Atticus. He was to live his life to the fullest. The two fellow Reinholds didn’t want to see Faeran early. And so, he lit a waxen candle, praying to the serene and divine moon. A muttered phrase, invocation, plea. “Treat ‘em kindly ye bright ol’ moon. Ah’ll see ‘em again. One day.” The candle, through a breeze emitted by inherently plum lips, had been snuffed out. Memories he shared, beautiful pieces of thought fluttered through the night sky and to the moon. She’d hold them for safe keeping until Faeran was ready to finally go see his dear old friends. His family.

He sat at the base of that looming tree. A place of the holy, sanctified by the Petrans, an eternal gift of nature, his home. That pale, gaunt thing placed his bony hands upon the oaken fortifications of the colossal Aldtree. The Oaken One’s dark, cloth-wrought bandages were removed so that his pallid skin could make contact with the bark. He wished to embrace the tree, to release all emotion into it. The frogs of the bank croaked around him whilst a gentle summer wind trickled through his tangled, phantom-hued hair. Thriving green grass and mosses of evergreen hues hugged his legs, softening the pressure his knees made against the earth. All this muffled his cries. His leaking, dull eyes watered the earth as the low sun failed to illuminate him due to the Aldtree’s shade. Those eldritch, wry fingers pressed gently upon the beechen monument as trickles of the surrounding pond played into Lonan’s ears. He leaned his forehead upon it and weeped, a yearning filling his clogged, cavernous throat. The skies yawned, cast in vibrant shades as the sun set itself to sleep. After some time, the blue of the open sky faded into a stygian darkness, as if ink were spilled on a beautiful painting. The dazzling stars of night were hidden behind clouds of gloom. They were heavy clouds, their eyelids brimming with complicated emotion much like Lonan’s. Soft rain began to kiss the vegetation of the world, feeding life with the care of a mother. He moved to lay at the edge of the bank then, as crickets chirped all around, sent in a frenzy by the rain that threatened their little lives. It was all beauty he could no longer see. He cried for himself, however selfish that might make him. He wept and wheezed through the gracious rain, basking in chilly vulnerability. And so he drifted to rest against the damp grass. . . ‘Neath that tree, he slept. . . The mindscape he awakened within was incorporeal, unexplainable, indescribable. Its boundaries were none, a place of deep imagination. Darkness and safety, that place of haze and mystery. Lonan was not alone within this place. Its expanse far too wide for his consciousness to be the only one present. His eyes, composed of malleable dreams, blinked and there he saw it, The Aldtree. It was rooted in dark waters, though it hadn't followed the rules of darkness. It stood as if illuminated by the sun within the vast shadow that this realm was. The chasm yawned in its delicate creation whilst revealing the beauty of the red-leafed Memory Tree. Without a tangible mouth, the willow-wrought plant spoke in carefully knitted rhymes and phrases- “You sate me, friend, for your tears came to no end. Why, at the feet of my body, does your nose run so snotty?” It found that last bit funny evidently, as there was something of its sentience that made its branches creak. Despite the tree’s undeniable ancientness, it was childlike and free. It could not run through fields of green, but it was still free. It felt natural for the elder, the dreaming one, Lonan, to continue the conversation. “I- I cry through eyes of vestigial purpose. No longer can I witness the bank you thrive in, the beautiful plants that grow at your feet, or you. I cannot see the bright eyes of my dearest friend, nor witness the setting sun. Beauty is gone for me. I am functionless, vestigial.” He stared to the floor, ashamed of his vulnerability. It laughed again, through ancient, historical creaks and crunches of branches. Not to belittle Lonan, however. “You say you cannot see, but then you look right at me! You silly, silly boy, do not be so coy. You will see through me, through the roots of this, here tree!” A brow from the pale, fragile figure was lifted in confusion. “I am sorry, but what is it you mean?” “My roots spread farther than you think, you won’t even need to blink! Hide your pretty eyes, and through my roots you will see the skies!” It explained, in its mannerisms of a little boy. Lonan didn’t quite understand at first, but the tree made for certain that he did by the end of the dream. Whilst it slowly sank into the deep waters, rooted within Lonan’s mind did it plant a seed of direction. He was meant to veil his eyes, for some cryptic reasoning that the childish, yet wise tree conveyed. And he awoke, drenched. The cold rain pelted his numbed skin, causing it to scrunch up like a sponge would absorb water. His hair laid in a mess, intertwining with different blades of grass. The frogs croaked endlessly, though the dream of mystery was too deep for him to wake from the volume of such. That rhyming tree gave him one direction only, cover his blind eyes. And so he did. . . That soil, softened into mud by the rain, was stolen from the earth. It sat in a clump within both of Lonan’s bear hands. Without much thought, the crooked elder smashed his hands against his eyelids, painting the area with the rich soil of the Aldtree. And through the Aldtree’s roots, did he see. . . The roots, however, were not physical by any means. They followed Lonan around the world from that point on, guiding him through their intangible and immaterial system. He saw, not through his eyes, but by extension, The Aldtree. And it was just as The Tree Said.

“Time t’ get buildin’!” A silver-haired Mali’ker murmured to himself whilst reading over the parchment.

As much as I don’t prefer the other necromancer MAs (occultism and reaving) this one is super super cool. I really love the haunted aesthetic of it and especially the “Choir” spell. Its ties to Aeriel and Ascended of the past is so so amazing and I think this would make to be an awesome magic of its own should the new necromancy get denied. I still stand on my distaste for the other two “necro” MAs, but I absolutely love this one.