Ninjay

This lore has been denied. Self-denied by submitter.

Old Lore (unclear, poor wording, bad): Group Teleportation: Combative With theory one can send themselves through the void but what about their friends? Through testing and study comes a new ability with voidal shifting to focus your magic and shift a willing person from point A to B. This would, of course, follows the same properties as normal shifting not exceeding normal standards in any way. The only difference notable is that a shroud of the casters aura would begin to cover the target, alerting anyone if they were unsuspecting. New Lore (Clearer, fixed wording, more viable, good): Group Teleportation: Combative One can send themselves through the void but what about their friends? Through testing and study came a development upon minor teleportation; the ability to shift one’s ally (or allies) through the Void. This follows the same properties as regular shifting, just extended to others rather than solely the casting mage. Reason: Group TP has probably some of the least-clear example emotes in any magic I can think of. In addition to fixing that, this also cleans up the text in the mechanics, adds a few clarifications and minor quality of life buffs for sake of improving its viability, and specifies that the mage does not have to teleport alongside their allies.

StingyParrot found banned of self-inflicted major player conduct violations (2 highly cropped and edited Discord screenshots to the back of the head).

"This guy just wants ST mats, doesn't he?" Quipped a sprite who barely knew how to read.

Having clarified with the organizers the extent to which he would be allowed to maim combat the opposition in the wargames, a mage went about signing up, uncharacteristically eager at the chance to have a few good, extended battles.

This post contains descriptions of violence and gore that some may find disturbing. Please avoid if such topics make you uncomfortable; reader discretion is advised. The Besieged Lands | Turmoil Which was the first gore pit he had seen? Was it the one hidden away beneath the village? The minuscule one in that summer home Francoise had come into possession of? Hallowcliffe? The lair hidden beneath the Aaunish vassal? He recalled the rivulets of blood in the walls beneath Belvedere, but had one been there too? All parts of distant memories, such facets of which he had some trouble putting into chronological order. Still, such sights were nothing new to him; he had braved them before. … If anything, there may have been times where he had not really needed to ‘brave’ them. Frequent enough exposure meant some grim level of tolerance to them. It was not comfort, he knew. No, they had always made him uneasy to at least some level, and he was never eager to be in their proximity. It was rather some degree of… unperturbedness, that he found himself possessing. Hardiness towards them, maybe. He had believed that such hardiness would serve him well, here, and immunize him against that which he saw. That was a fallacy. The pits were wounds in the earth itself - pulsating, writhing walls of raw flesh, blood, tissue, bone, and other bodily compositions, lining holes that stretch down to some grim floor. Horrid sights, but impersonal ones. One could imagine hapless victims being tossed in and torn apart, but unless one actually saw such, that was all it could be; imagination. They were more shock and awe than anything, he reckoned. This, though, was different. It was not gore pits he found himself surrounded by. No nameless, faceless, soulless conjurations of flesh to scare him off. No. These were corpses. Hundreds of them, scattered about the city’s desolate ruins. Real people, with names, faces, lives. There was no peace to be rationalized, no potential to impersonalize this. It was not some foul manifestation of the hells. It was real. Some corpses were adorned in armor, and lay on the ground alongside demonic ilk whom they had felled in their last moments. These were the ones who had perished fighting. Compared to others, this was a “merciful” ending, and likely the preferred one all things considered. The torment etched on the faces of others spoke volumes. Glazed eyes of heads absent their jaws mounted on spikes. Entrails and intestines of a bisected woman splayed across the ground. Some scattered patches of viscera told stories of unfortunate individuals set upon by packs of imps and lesser demonic beasts, their talons and fangs digging into flesh and tearing them limb from limb. Other bodies had been partially consumed, portions missing with only marks of claw and teeth to suggest what had occurred. It was not all mindless slaughter. Some was disturbingly mindful. Innards of a man split apart were arranged in some foul pattern in between his torso and legs. In the smoldering ruins of a building, strung up in the framework which still stood, bodies were strung up, their faces flayed away, with cores split and ribs wrenched to face outwards. The bruises about the wrists that bound such wicked cadavers up suggested struggle had been involved in the display. Entire groups of bodies with flesh woven together and hung from one street side to another, akin to some horrid tapestry. These were living souls who had lived, fought, struggled, and died. Horrifically. He had imagined a realm set upon by the hells, and he had found one. By a stroke of luck, his initial location had been one some distance from the city, yet to be beset upon by the Infernal hordes. The clouds of ash and sight of fire in the distance had been plenty to set him upon his course. The closer he drew, though, the worse it was. The sky was darkened by smoke, the light of the sun replaced by fires both mundane and hellish. The air was horrid, a mixture of fire, death, blood, and battle. His eyes stung and watered, and even through a purifier his breathing was labored. The other senses were more than enough to inform him of what the air there was, and so he struggled to do anything but suffer from it. Remains lined the streets he walked. Aside from the manner of their deaths, though, he noticed something. Humans, elves, orcs, and dwarves, of all ages and appearances. In a realm such as this, there was little room for wars of politics and division. Instead, there was the desire solely to persist, to survive. All seemed to be united in this, against the greater force which threatened them all equally. Perhaps not eagerly, he thought, but united all the same. . . . Not that it did much good. These corpses were not the ones he sought, though. No, there would be some. There had to be some. Some idiots, surely, would have taken some deal, and damned themselves. So surely there must be some here, somewhere… He pressed on, further into the ruins. The few demons who remained were but minor beasts nibbling at scraps, most with enough instinct to avoid the man. For the few that were not and dared to try their luck, a couple strikes from a sword were more than sufficient to send them back from whence they came. He forced himself to keep a slow pace; he had to give a once over to every corpse, from the horridly maimed ones to the massed piles of them. Such was a necessity of his search, macabre as it was. In time, he found himself in a square. The market stalls, ornate buildings, and general planning belayed that this was once a place of commerce, gathering, of central activity to the community it had serviced. Now, though, it was defiled. Towers of the dead lay about, reaching heights that rivaled the buildings such souls had been plucked from. In the center of the square, beneath a tree which had once served as a centerpiece for the place of gathering but had since been warped and rendered into some foul corruption of flora by the invading forces, he found them. Some were impaled upon the tree itself. Others hung from its now-leafless branches, like morbid decorations left to commemorate the occasion. They had been left in a variety of states. Some were horribly mangled and barely recognizable as something once humanoid - bones broken and snapped haphazardly, gored to extremity, as if dissected by the hands of some brute, and the shell that once contained their insides left to dry like leather. Others were less brutalized, and far more recognizable, all their inborn deformities and alterations plain to see even in death. At the foot of the tree, one in particular caught his eye, one which was different from all the others. Rods of hellsteel had pierced his hands and legs, pinning him to the ground akin to an animal pinned to a dissection board. His core had then been cut, cleanly; enough care had been paid to the entirely of this effort to be disturbing. His skin, odd colored and scaly, had then been peeled away, and likewise pinned to the ground. Innards, bowels, bones, intestines - all removed entirely from his torso. At the bottom of what was now a fleshy basin absent its usual contents, runes were scrawled in glowing Ilzakarn. His gore was not far gone; it was set up in an elaborate arrangement around the body. It was a pentacle, formed from this unfortunate soul, with what remained of his body at the center. The face remained in one piece, but was forever twisted into a haunting expression. Agony. An offering to the Lords of Moz Strimoza. He had found the example that he was looking for.

Hey this is real self rp that my character went through can you be respectful of it please? Thank you.

They are watching. This, he knows. He can feel their eyes on him. Distant eyes, peering at him through the trees and mists. He knows not what they are - but, he feels, he knows their nature, their disposition, their intent. It is not solely them, though, which gives him pause. Another set of eyes watches him. Not of this place, not like those he can see. No, this set is of some different being, of no home nor place of origin. Something else. Something dangerous. A l è a I cannot remain here for long. He was unsure how much time he had spent here already. An infinite expanse of reflective, gray water lay in all directions, with a sky of yellow-white above. It seemed entirely undisturbed save for when he took a step. Ripples rolled out from his greaves and cloak which floated atop the water as it trailed behind. His trudging across the plane was the sole sound in a sea of silence, water sloshing with each step and sending quiet reverberations off into the distance. Nothing came in turn. A desolate, barren place, so it would seem. At first, it had seemed he was alone entirely. There was no sign of other disturbance in this place of emptiness. It was an uncanny thing, but still novel enough to spur him to walk, in hopes of a clearing of the mind. Alone with his thoughts, yet hoping to drive them away, he stepped through the shallows. When he first came upon the trees, despondent and pitiful looking, they did not draw his attention. Simply something to break up the monotony, with little of interest to them. Until he noticed. The first sign; at some point, by chance or fate, perhaps due to luck or owed to weariness of such an alien place, he happened to glance down. He noticed, then, movement atop the water. Not his own ripples. Others. Tiny waves, barely perceptible, rolling in from distances unknown, lapping against the plate he wore as he came to a standstill. He was not alone. It seemed this was no place of true respite. He continued onwards, albeit with far more attention paid to his surroundings. Gradually, as time passed and the sky above darkened towards a grim gray, their presence became more apparent. Tall, spindly, skeletal-esque creatures crept through the trees in the distance, further concealed by a light mist that seemed to permeate the area. Their stilt-like appendages served them well for doing little to disturb the water, and were nearly enough to keep them discrete. They crept and prowled about with movements that seemed simultaneously slow and jerked, caught up in their own focuses - until they noticed him. The longer he walked, the more he felt their attention turn towards him. How many eyes were upon him? Tens? Hundreds? Thousands? He was unsure. The sensation ebbed and flowed like the ripples they all sent across the water covering the realm. He was not dismayed, though. He was well armed, capable, self-assured. He had fought things more horrid than such creatures, unnerving as they were. Then, the second sign. A different one, one he could tell was foreign to such a place. The air there was stagnant, unmoving beyond the terse breathing and small shifts he and the stalkers of the realm caused. As little movement as there was upon the water, there was even less in the air. It was for this reason that a gentle thing froze him up. A faint breeze passed by. The lifeless tree branches, having sat unmoving since time immemorial, rustled. It kissed his armor from behind, just enough to pass through the gaps and be felt upon the skin. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and goosebumps ran across his entirety. Even the stalkers seemed to take note of it, their eyes shifting away from him and towards the direction from which he had come. It was then that he felt it - another gaze, unlike those about him now. Some piercing thing, of a nature he knew he could not comprehend. The corners of his vision darkened, as if shadows had crept into his peripheral and threatened to engulf him entirely. Slowly, he dared to glance over his shoulder in the direction it seemed to be coming from. Nothing. No great beast, no cosmic creature, no visible entity. Nothing. Just empty space, of water and dead trees, the same as he had left it. Still, it was fully apparent. Something was wrong. Something was here. He pressed onwards, hurried now. The place and its inhabitants were unsettling already; this, though, was some new thing, which he knew sought calamity. The sky continued to darken, as evening transitioned to dusk. Preoccupied with the new presence that had arrived, it took some time for him to recognize that their eyes, too, had returned to him. And they were growing closer. The mist encroached, and with it their unearthly eyes came into greater and greater proximity. I cannot stay here. It was a testament to his composure that he did not break into a mad dash. Or, perhaps, it was a sign of foolishness that he did not act with even further haste. They come. It comes. I cannot stay here. Salt would not function here, in this land covered in water. He came to a halt, and fell to his knees. Using his hands, he forced dirt and mud from the ground under the water into a haphazard circle, sufficient for ritual usage. He knew not where he was to go - there was no time to think of such. All that mattered was no longer being here. They encroached. It encroached. Rising to a stand once more, intent was enacted, and a familiar ring of brine and salt water began to rise about him. In the moments before it fully shielded him and sent him sailing off through the cosmos to another place, he was afforded a final view of that which surrounded him. The mists were but some dozens of meters away, and the stalkers within were uncomfortably near. Along the path he had walked, though, there was no mist. Instead, there was some miasmic blackness, some amalgamation of shadow and cosmic force, allowing itself to be seen. It was not of here, no. It was not of anywhere, lest the idea of cosmic correction could be called a home. Even the stalkers, ever curious, seemed dismayed at its presence, the closest ones to it balking away and retreating. In those final moments of waning light, as the process came to completion and he was ferried away, he felt its focus upon him. More concerningly, he felt it even as he found himself arriving in an entirely different existence. They would cross paths again. S t e n c h Here, there was no goodness. There was his weeping, there was his crying, and there was his gnashing of teeth, as he was forced to witness that which could only be described as unholy - unholy in a way he had never fathomed. He was unsure he would ever recover. Does God ever look upon his creation, and feel regret? Images generated by AI. Except for the last one. That is a ninjayyz original. I didn’t want to write this. **** you.

[T5] ライジングドラゴン - RISING DRAGON [AGGRESSIVE] The pinnacle of the Sun Path’s aggression, an Oscillit may manifest a tremendous blow from one of their limbs, surpassing even the force of a Kinetic Strike. One should be wary, though, as doing so requires cultivating an abundance of Ambient Mana, and trying to do so in haste will have consequences. [T5] 不屈の意志 - INDOMITABLE WILL [AGGRESSIVE] The ultimate defense, an Oscillit of the Moon Path can achieve a state of perfect resistance to all that the world would weigh upon them. That is to say, an Oscillit can temporarily make themselves impervious to all which would harm them - an unbreakable, immovable pillar. Purpose: Kengan Ashura LARP + i was bored (i just thought it sounded cool and like trying to write cool shit)

“Why is this RAT speaking ill of my beautiful QUEEN?!” Exclaimed one man upon reading the missive. He wasn’t a Mori. In fact, he was a fully regular human. He just seemed delusional and mad, suffering from some simp-toms of Mori Obsessive Disorder, a pandemic that was beginning to sweep across the continent of Azuras.

Lair Leader MC Name: ninjayyz Lair Leader Character Name: Jude Lair Name: Leyhall Primary Lair Color: Purple Lair Members: ninjayyz, exoh31, FluffyHorror, StingyParrot, Ewdrawings, Nestro_Miner, FadedQuartz, Castelleo, RedResult, Rigorous, Aftrballini, Pallodium, knghtArtoria, JerryTheNoob, 1eoo, AirEvocation, Ambitious_24, FrostyGopneeq, Halfirate, McSteve5k, Pathologist, _AzureLexi, acronius_, sam33497 + probably many more to come following ongoing events and conflict Proposed Lair Locations: Preference #1: Umbravale / Azure Forest* (tile_azure_woods_1) * Note: I have talked to @Xergarok, who has also made a lair app with this location as their top preference. We are in agreement that we think we could co-exist quite well within the same general space should these applications be accepted, especially given the differences in types of builds we would possess. To start, we think it reasonable and logical that the IRP relation between the two lairs being a half-spoken, half-unspoken agreement to silently regard each other from our respective yards and make an effort to leave one another alone, given some similarities of groups acting as scholars and researchers that are apt to be shunned by the wider world. Of course, this would be subject to change depending on IRP events and developments, which we expect would happen naturally. The main thing I wish to stress here is that we have talked a bit and think that on an OOC level it could work and make for interesting RP, and Xergarok can confirm that he would be ok with having our lairs share a tile. Preference #2: Alpine Southwest (tile_alpine_southwest_2) Preference #3: Palm Island (tile_palm_island_1) Lair Lore and History The history of voidal magic, over the last few centuries, is a contentious one, steeped especially in both the actions of mages, and cultural views and understandings of the magics they practice. Culturally, there is a common understanding amongst many of the denizens of descendantkind; voidal mages tap into the Void, and bring energies from it into the world. The Void is some unknowable non-existence of chaos, energy, and entropy, where the rules found in reality do not apply - an exact opposite to the structured, organized, living existence they inhabit. Their magic is often destructive in nature, and their usual creations - things such as obelisks and tears - not only have a propensity to warp the environment, but invite calamity to the world at large and all the realms that exist upon it. Additionally, mages are often poorly suited for belonging in the cultures of the world. Many value strength and martial prowess, as armored guardsmen make up the lion’s share of their military forces, and are held in high esteem.; for most mages, such is something they are incapable of wielding, as the influence of the Void on their bodies saps away their strength. Thus, a voidal mage is less often seen as some valuable, contributing member to society, but often a foolish, power-craving individual who is tolerated at best (though in plenty of places they are not tolerated at all). Historically, the roots for the current state of voidal magi goes back centuries, though recent history certainly serves to inform this position more than much of the ancient past. Arguably, the stage for the contemporary view of voidal magic was set about one hundred years ago. In the wake of the war which saw the League of Veletz defeated and effectively dissolved, on the orders of leaders of the Grand Covenant, the city of Winburgh was razed in a maelstrom of voidal flame. While to the victors it was a joyous sight to see the city rendered into ruins, it was a horrid thing to those of the Middelan Diaspora, who watched a city they had once called home reduced to nothing. While it certainly helped in leaving them a taste of disdain for the victorious foes - a sentiment which would ferment and bubble for decades, eventually leading to plenty of its own developments in the world - it also had another effect. Mages were the ones who had torched their city with little care or second thought. Mages could not be trusted with such power. While this was neither as direct nor potent a hate as was held for the protectors of the geopolitical status quo, it still served as a general sentiment by many for years to come. Despite the misgivings of some, especially after the so-called ‘Glassing of Winburgh’, the Independent Academy-State of Hohkmat found success. It had existed prior to the Aevos Coalition War, and by virtue of being on the victorious side, had remained. There, those who practiced or held interest in voidal magics were free to pursue a path towards learning, teaching, and interfacing with their fellow magi. It was not without issues, of course - as infighting and scheming was built into the institution’s culture, by design - but it still attracted people and maintained an orderly body. This lasted for some time, until the days of the Robertine Crusade - part of the overall movement in geopolitics which began with the Luraki invasion of Vikela and, many decades later, culminated in the War of Crown and Crozier. Amidst this lengthy era of conflict, a figure purporting to be an Aengul by the name of Raguel made his presence known amongst the realms of descendantkind. In accordance with his direction - and sometimes by his own hand - numerous realms were brought to ruin, either through governmental maneuvering to seize control of lands that had once stood opposed, or through conquest by amassed forces. One such realm was Hohkmat - following its evacuation, it was set upon by flames and magma, left in ruins not unlike Winburgh decades prior. In the wake of Hohkmat’s destruction, the largest centralized group of voidal mages was scattered throughout the continent. Over the coming decades, there were attempts by some to reform groups. Oftentimes these were smaller guilds or similar types of organizations, existing within some greater realm with permission. They were generally smaller in scale and scope, a means by which a safe and stable existence could be secured, at the cost of greater experimentation and utilization of magics. Centralization was a tall order for any who sought it, and such a thing would prove difficult for many to accomplish to any significant degree, especially without direct governmental support. It seemed that, for the foreseeable future, this would be how voidal mages existed - scattered and divided into smaller groups, eking out an existence of stagnance and safety. They were able to be mages, they were able to practice magic, but it generally did not go beyond that, nor was there any indication that such would change for a long time to come. A change appeared to come, however, with the formation of the Empire of Man. Following the War of Crown and Crozier, a new world order had been established, with a single body serving as its undisputed head, and all others acting under it. This Empire, formed by both descendants of the Middelan Diaspora and even some youths who had been alive to see Winburgh engulfed in the flames of magi, held little love for voidal mages, many still citing the capital’s destruction as a clear reason for distrust. Despite this, it was generally recognized that voidal magic was something that would be impossible to stamp out, so a decision was made. Voidal mages would be organized into one body, under the government of the Empire. And thus, the Imperial College of Magic was formed. A governing body over mages, of mages, with the backing of the dominant power on the continent. A cautious arrangement, which plenty of Inperials either only accepted begrudgingly or outright scoffed at, but an arrangement all the same. Though somewhat slow to start, and with an abundance of caution to not cause issues in trying to exert their influence over mages of the Empire’s semi-autonomous realms, there was still progress. Many magi were drawn into cooperation under one group, with clearance to do as deemed necessary for management of voidal practices under their demesne - a demesne that seemed poised to grow to encompass magic users of other realms, with Imperial backing. After decades of dispersal, there appeared to be a chance of consolidation within the Empire. Then, a mage of the Imperial College attempted to assassinate the Emperor. In the wake of this attempt on the Emperor’s life - which came dangerously close to succeeding - the governmental response was swift. On the same eve of the attempt, as the Emperor was still recovering from his wounds, it was decreed via Imperial Proclamation that the presence of voidal magi was no longer to be permitted within the Imperial Crownlands, on threat of death. The Imperial College was dissolved shortly thereafter, and the magi gathered were once more scattered to the wind, left to once more seek a new place to continue their existence. Once more, though, a number of the mages once involved with the College, along with others who hold interest in an area which is under the domain of mages, rather than governments who distrust them, seek to relocate to a land in which they may better study and practice their magic in peace, both for their own sake and those of others who are not fans of them. There is much unsettled land in the western half of Azuras, and plenty of locales which would make for an adequate institution to continue their practices in, in relative safety. The further one delves, though, the more one may see that this is no regular place of learning and light experimentation, as most mage groups would have limited themselves to when operating under the wing of a realm. In labs and test chambers, research is done that blurs the line between genius and insanity, as wielders of magic seek to see what they can truly accomplish when they act without restraint. There is even rumor that, despite the official stance of the Imperium on voidal magi, some of these projects still have some degree of Imperial backing… Forum Posts pertinent to this history: (Some) Lore pieces relevant to this Lair: Lair Build and Infrastructure: 75x75 The lair will have a minimal amount of occupied space on the surface of the world, and therefore require very little in the way of alterations to the very nice terrain already present; a small clearing with some tents and/or highly simple buildings, like a campsite or quaint village, if anything at all. The majority of the build will be underground, consisting of a labyrinth of hallways and rooms which stretch deeper and deeper into the earth. These rooms will vary from lounges, living areas, and other amenities common to areas in which people frequent and live, to the more unexpected - imposing, unsettling laboratories, and sealable chambers intended for experimentation. The deeper one manages to delve, the more esoteric and secretive the things they are apt to see and discover. Think SCP Secret Lab or The Cabin in the Woods, but magic and medieval ☺ See below for some examples of what the build / its components may look like. Why can this group not fulfill their roleplay niche in an existing settlement or nation?: In order to achieve things of note - great creation or acts of an arcane nature - voidal mages require the ability to take risks. BIG risks. Voidal tears, circling rituals, and similar. All of which are needed to provide the sufficient energy and mana. And all of which are prone, if not guaranteed, to cause massive disasters if and when something inevitably goes wrong. As a result, mages within nations tend to hold themselves back, both for irp and OOC reasons. IRP, if they do any of these things and get caught, they are liable to death, expulsion, magic being forbidden, etc. OOCly, they know that many such larger things are apt to require OOC consent in order for anything interesting to be done with them (unless I can nuke a place by hiding a tear well enough for long enough, in which case, perhaps this point is moot). This is further reinforced with the current outlook on voidal magi in many places within the server’s world. The acting dominant power outright bans them from its central lands due to recent events, and plenty of other places look upon such individuals with no fondness whatsoever, some even banning them as well. Without an ability to reliably and consistently take such risks, mages in existing settlements and nations will remain somewhat gimped, condemned to forever being just people with magic who exist and use it sometimes, rather than individuals and groups who do things of note with it. Mages and wizards can exist within nations, but it is rare or difficult for them to do mage and wizard things. How does this lair add to the greater world around it? How will its existence benefit its roleplay group and the server at-large?: In order to pursue these grander ventures and heightened risks - striving to do big and new things, rather than just remain stagnant as people in nations who happen to use magic - it seems natural irply and almost necessary OOCly for them to congregate elsewhere, outside the organized realms and kingdoms of descendants. In such an environment voidal mages, and any other who are interested in pushing the magic in any direction, will be better able to pursue these new, novel paths which they may otherwise be unable or unwilling to when subject to the whims of the non-voidal community in which their character lives. It is a firm belief of both myself and a number of others that voidal magic, for all its flaws and history, is one of the magics with the most potential to do interesting things on the server, narratively and otherwise, capable of impacting the wider world and generating a lot of interesting developments if given the chance and done right. It is thus our hope that this may enable better pursuit of such interesting things, and help to create narratives surrounding such, both for those directly involved with the magic and those elsewhere who see and must reckon with any effects which come of it. Shoutout and thanks to @Xergarok for letting me use the formatting he used for his own lair app.