LichinCrocs

theres always the option to join the dead

yo would you perhaps be intrested in joining the undead , my discord is __thedoctor__, ill await an reply

⛧ A reply, scorched into old parchment with a branding iron, nailed beside the skull of urzul ⛧ You speak of skulls and shame. I see a weapon that walks. You call him a thrall. He walks free. He bows to no chain, no rune, no leash but his own will. If he wished to strike me down, he could. He does not. That is choice. That is loyalty born in undeath, not in fear. Urzul is not bound. He is awakened. He does not grovel. He follows because he sees the world for what it is ,hollow gods, rusted heroes, and lies nailed to wood. You say you slew him. You did. And now he walks again. Not because of some curse, but because he chose to rise. You chant that every spell is a step into the void Good. As we revel in the shade of the abyss. We made our camp there. We sharpened our blades on the bones. We built eternal flames that do not go out. We carved truth from rot. You carved three words into a stake. We carve entire kingdoms into the earth. And you dare call him coward? A man who died, rose, and chose to kneel to no crown but ruin? You mistake your fear for truth. You confuse rot for weakness, silence for servitude. You shout "thrall" at a soul freer than any who cower behind Reinmar's gate. He has shed more humanity in death than you ever held in life. So keep your warnings. Nail them high. Pray over your gates. Burn your dead twice. It will not stop what comes. The Black Flame Answers Urk-vyradalm The Burnt Lord

A whisper in the wind. The earth trembles, as if appalled by some unholy power. They emerge from the darkening forest, an unholy legion, their bones creaking under them with each movement, in ripped, rusted armor. Mindless, will-less, but their numbers growing greater night by night. These are the forgotten, risen from their graves, from their deathless sleep, summoned by forces unknown. At the forefront of this terrible procession, a figure walks, blackened and distorted by fire. Its form is burned beyond all identification, but it walks with unshakeable resolve. Senseless, yet purposeful, the warband moves. They do not conquer, yet they are a certainty. The ground beneath their feet is devoid of nature as they move, the woods and fields barren. It is accompanied by a murder of undead raven their wings obscuring the light, a harbinger of death. Black, stifling mist follows the figure, wreathing around the warband like an unholy pall. It sticks to their bones, corrupts the air with foulness, and follows the warband wherever they travel. Senseless, but with a purpose, the warband moves. They do not conquer; they are an inevitability. . The ground they walk on is devoid of nature as they move, the forest and fields barren of life. New graves are dug every night, old tombs desecrated, their occupants now added to the horde. The forests now echo with the clatter of bones and the muted whispers of the dead. The dead do not speak, yet they never remain quiet. Their march is slow, inexorable, relentless. There is no power that will stop them. There is no realm, no wall, no force that will not be overcome. Their destination is sure the Grand Kingdom of Urguan. The Dead Shall Inherit the Earth. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcDt6UJwfgk (The Event Will Be at Friday 3 pm est next week)

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Hello there , im looking to create some automatons and sorvians to help around my chars crypt and to guard him while other roles are up to the player , design is largely up to the player through i can chip in some ideas , if intrested hit me up : vintageimperatrix

Lex Lang - Kenjaku

Zarvoth loomed before the missive board, his towering, 8-foot frame casting a monstrous shadow. His body was covered in thick, coarse fur. His face was hidden behind an deer skull adorned with jagged antlers, its hollow eye sockets were empty and dark. Above it, he wore a helmet—reinforced, dark metal that encased his head, with sharp edges that only accentuated the terror his visage inspired. The helmet clung closely to the contours of the skull beneath, creating an intimidating and monstrous appearance. Over his fur, he wore full plate armor, dark and jagged, designed to evoke fear, with the antlers of the skull jutting from beneath it like twisted branches. To most, Zarvoth was an abomination—an entity that looked like a daemon in the eyes of anyone who dared approach. As his massive hand reached out, the missive was pulled from the board, and Zarvoth read it with cold, calculating focus. The death of Binah meant little to him—he didn’t know the Mali, nor did he care for their life. What truly caught his attention was the description of the beast that had appeared before Celia’nor's gates. A creature that resembled him. It looked like me... The words lingered in his mind, crawling like a parasite. A tall, monstrous figure with antlers, bloodthirsty and fierce. It mirrored his own appearance too closely to ignore. Zarvoth's thoughts began to twist inwards, a dark hunger for answers building within him. Is there more of my kind? The missive detailed Binah's sacrifice, but Zarvoth had no interest in the Mali's fate. The creature, however—that was his concern. A creature like him? Could there be others, hidden in the shadows, lurking just beyond his reach? His fingers tightened around the missive, crushing the edges in his grip. He spoke to himself, his voice low and gravelly, "Is there more of my kind?" The question echoed in the stillness, lingering like a quiet storm, threatening to consume him if left unanswered. Turning away from the missive board, Zarvoth moved forward, the heavy plates of his armor clanging with each purposeful step. The city offered no answers; it was the wilds that called to him. His eyes narrowed toward the distant woods. There, perhaps, was the key to the answers he sought. With one last glance at the missive in his hand, Zarvoth walked into the forest, his form was swallowed by the trees. The path before him was uncertain, but the question burned within him—he would find this creature, or find others like him, and learn whether his existence had any meaning beyond the hunger that gnawed at his soul.(to whoever that creature was shoot me an dm if u want to rp)

mutant ca ? def getting an upvote from me

To Ross von House van Leuven, I see your hands still tremble as they scribble their naive musings on parchment. Do you write to convince yourself, or to drown out the echoes of my voice that linger in your mind? You speak of GOD, mercy, and sin, yet when we met, where was your conviction? I stared into your soul, and it quivered like a dying flame. You spoke of faith, but it was fear that held your tongue. Do not mistake our encounter as something forgotten, little acolyte. I remember your terror, your desperation to hold onto beliefs that faltered under the weight of my presence. Your GOD did not shield you from my gaze. Your words of virtue did not banish the dread I invoked. Do you truly believe your sermons will hold more power than your faltering prayers? Write all you wish, Ross. Call to your GOD, to your bishops, to your congregation. But know this: I am watching. I am always watching. The creature finished the letter, its claws dripping with ink. Then it pressed a blood-red deer skull onto the parchment.

i must agree with lemonke on this. Skins are way easier to get then everyone having to carry items for each piece of their armor.

i can offer you to play an ghoul if youd would want to play something less sophisticated. DM vintageimperatrix if ur up for that.

1+ blood magic but better

Notice: In the gloom of Aevos, posters have begun to appear in shadowed alcoves and beneath flickering torches. Each bears a chilling emblem: a black phoenix wreathed in dark flames. The message, scrawled in ominous script, reads: "From the Veil of Shadows, a New Power Emerges." A dark and formidable force rises from the depths of the unknown, seeking individuals of rare strength and unwavering resolve. Those drawn to the darkness and driven by ambition are invited to step forward and prove their worth. Join a gathering that moves with purpose and precision, shrouded in secrecy and bound by a code of silent power. Will you embrace the call of the shadows? (Message for any questions vintageimperatrix)

Yes ill upvote it

isnt this basicly an copy of regular blood magic runes?

user???

Guild Charter Application: The Dark Talon Name & Purpose of Guild: The Dark Talon serves as both a mercenary guild and knight order, operating under the principles of valor and secrecy. Our members, including bounty hunters, mercenaries, and adventurers, undertake various tasks, from scouting to clearing out lairs, to bounty hunting. Type of Guild: Magic ; Mercenary guild and knight order. Current Leader: Vaelor, VintageCreed Current Officers or Subleaders: Romeroh (Greenmen), Anai Orzo Darkthorn (MrBra), and others. Current Members: Approximately 40 members, including. Aganar Kalgan (McSteve5662) ; Ævin Vin'lenn (Klobars) Property Requirements: We require a property large enough to accommodate various facilities, including a meeting room, forge, and common area. This property may be located in the woods or within the city. Agreement: We agree and consent to the rules, requirements, and responsibilities outlined in the charter. We understand the consequences for breaking our oath. [Signature] Vaelor, VintageCreed

sorvians are great but they need more people who actually make them as i never seen any sorvian crafter

Greetings, adventurers! We invite those in search of a distinct. RP experience within a free-roaming, dark mercenary knight order—unrestricted by the bindings of church or nation. About Us: Freedom First: Our group values individual freedom, unrestricted by allegiance to church or nation. Mercenary Focus: Embrace the spirit of a mercenary knight, taking on contracts and shaping your destiny in the shadows. What We Offer: Prosthetics, Healthcare, and More: Enjoy guild benefits that prioritize the well-being of our members, including prosthetics, healthcare, and essential amenities. Weaponry and Armor: Equip yourself with top-notch weaponry and armor provided by the guild, ensuring you're well-prepared for the challenges that lie ahead. To express your interest, drop a message to VintageGermanium. We'll reach out to discuss your character concept and ensure it aligns with the ethos of our free-roaming, dark mercenary knight order. Current characters are also welcome.

In the dim-lit corners of Aevos, a worn parchment unfolds, unveiling the summons of a clandestine fellowship concealed in the embrace of night's shadows. Valiant hearts, adorned in the mantle of shadowed armor, are beckoned forth. Picture yourself in the muted hues of darkened armor, threading through a world where secrets stir in the breeze, and strength echoes through unexplored darkness. Seize your destiny, from the soft jingle of coins to quests for justice. An invitation awaits kindred spirits, a subtle plea to join a more liberated order, resonating with the spirit of mercenaries. "Sometimes you'll have to use darkness to serve the light." (OOC Note: This order is made for dark/ mercenary knight RP. For more info, message VintageGermanium.) To Apply: Name: Race: Age: Skills: Affiliation: MC User: Discord User:

(ooc Note My Discord is vintagegermanium)

The Dark Talon In the clandestine recesses of Aevos, a formidable network thrives—a seamless alliance encompassing Mercenary Guilds, Spying Guilds, Bounty Hunting Guilds, and This intricate web of shadowy affiliations is orchestrated with unparalleled finesse by the enigmatic leader, Vaelor Darkthorn, a figure whose name alone sends shivers through the underworld. The Dark Talon, as the network is ominously known, extends its reach across the diverse landscapes of Aevos, a predatory force with tendrils embedded deep in the clandestine fabric of society. Its operations unfold silently, veiled in secrecy, with each member and guild concealed within layers of anonymity. The web of The Dark Talon is an enigma—a whispered myth that instills fear and respect alike. At the nexus of this hidden network resides the all-powerful council—The Falcons Circle. Guided by the strategic brilliance of Vaelor Darkthorn, The Falcons Circle is a conclave of master tacticians, elusive spymasters, and cunning leaders. Their decisions are the threads that weave the destiny of The Dark Talon, resonating through the shadowy corridors of power within the underworld. This elite assembly, named for the intelligence and prowess of the Leadersthat symbolize the guild, is the unequivocal authority that shapes the clandestine affairs of The Dark Talon. Within the network, each guild plays a pivotal role, honing their dark crafts. Mercenary Guilds offer lethal services to the highest bidder, Spying Guilds conduct covert intelligence operations, , Bounty Hunting Guilds pursue elusive targets, The Dark Talon seamlessly integrates these diverse elements into a mosaic of power, ensuring its influence remains elusive and its secrets impenetrable. In the dim-lit corners of Aevos, where whispers wield more power than shouts, The Dark Talon stands as an indomitable force—a dark power that moves silently, striking without warning. The network's pervasive influence ensnares the unwary in its intricate web, leaving no room for those who dare challenge the might of The Dark Talon and its enigmatic leader, Vaelor Darkthorn. Pinned Letter: Dear Aspirants, To become part of The Dark Talon Network or apply for your guild's inclusion, extend your intentions through the written word to: Vaelor Darkthorn (This is Not An Guild , Rather an Network of Guilds)

Vaelor Darkthorn, the shadow-wreathed figure in the clandestine corridors of his guild, absorbed the news of Lector Stor Vuiller's final journey. As the tale unfolded, the master assassin couldn't help but recognize the poetic symmetry in Stor's fate. "Father Stor Vuiller," Vaelor mused in the veiled silence of his sanctuary. "Your machinations cease, yet the echoes of your legacy persist." He took a moment to inscribe a message, a subtle eulogy that resonated with the unspoken language of the shadows: "In the grand dance of machines and men, Father Stor Vuiller's final act has concluded. A life woven into the fabric of Providence, now resting in the silent embrace of eternity. Requiem in pace, Lector Stor, for the war you faced transcends the mortal coil. May your creations echo in the corridors of time." Vaelor's post concluded, the shadows whispering their tribute, "In memoriam, Father Stor Vuiller, your legacy endures. Requiem in pace."