TheWhiteWolf

"Flames Rekindled. Smoldering Faith restored."

A choir of voices, discordant in nature spoke hence from the shadows.

"Four step forth from the shadows. Four take the mantles left discarded. A fractured Synod reborn. Unity Restored. The hunt for the Lordsakes begins."

A forth fire is lit beneath the shrines of the Four Ways, Mordring had his Heralds.

"So mote it be."

Much needed, +1

Smoldering Ember, Burgeoning Flame.

11th of the Deep Cold, Year 178 of the Second Age

[The following is not known IRP with the exception of those who were there to witness it]

She had not known what to expect, she had some grand ideas of what that blessed realm of Xion, the Abyss, would be but the truth was all the more greater than she could have ever hoped for, an experience that would shake her to her core and stir emotions long forgotten. 

She shifted through a wavering rush of gravity, space reorienting around her amid utter blackness. Then, depth. Shape. The skies roil with dark clouds of necrotic storms, desiccated trees carve the landscape of ebony dunes and sooty Aegisian ruins, and therein peace. She could taste, feel her heartbeat. She was graced with the subtle breeze on her phantom skin and felt life as she had once known it in ages past all rushing back and snapping into place.

She could feel the weight on her feet. A Pulse. Breath. A Heartbeat. Her memory of these bygone feelings becoming as real as can be. In this moment she was overcome with sensation, hope. Her faith utterly rewarded after all these long years of service in pursuit of an ideal, an idea, a blessed place that could only be dreamed of even when she could no longer dream.

In the distance swirled an obfuscating haze, the land itself leaking with endless visible lifeforce. It was a stark, monochromatic black-stained wasteland. And therein, a black heaven. A place for restful, peaceable dead. And it was in these moments that her mind was no longer a tumultuous sea of discordant voices all clamoring for attention, her mind was still. Silent. Calm. She was at peace for the first time in unliving memory.

These blessed lands had changed her outlook, changed her mind, thoughts.. she had strayed from the path and for too long had she allowed the Synod and her Children to go shattered in direction and purpose. She stood afore the unliving Drakaar, that Lord of the Abyss and found new purpose in his service. 

Words were exchanged, Plans made, threads of fate plucked and pulled to the benefit of this immortal being.

And in the end, she would seek her leave from this blessed domain though not before seeing a Soulbound Lantern, a Prison.

 The Fate of the Herald of Embers. With this knowledge she knew what had to be done. So mote it be.

The Shadows Lengthened. She returned to the Mortal Realm.

[The following missive is sent far and wide across the Mortal Realm, delivered in the dark of night by flocks of phantom Ravens]

"Here us, one and all, the Sons and Daughters of Mortal Kind. For too long have the four Heralds of the Dissentious Way been absent, idle, slumbering away from the affairs of the world. But times are changing, the Dark rises and the Light begins to fade. A resurgent Xionist Faith rises, once a smoldering ember loosing its warmth it now begins to burgeon into a raging flame that casts its warm embrace over all of Mortal Man."

"We should not forget our roots and where we have come from, though the Heralds of yore have been silent, we should not forget that when all was thought lost they kept our ways alive. Even now, new Heralds rise to take the mantles and usher in a new age for all. The Heralds of Umbrage and Strife have been named, Oaks is being sought as we speak which leaves that of Embers left. We have discovered the fate of the previous Herald of Embers, Azazel the Doused and they are lost to us."

"So it is we proclaim such, we Vorztrok, Barrowlord of the Sixth Synod hereby claim the mantle of Herald of Embers. Any who would challenge this claim seek us out in Lumbridge before we become Ordained."

"Times are changing, a new Cradle of Xionism is being born and with it a New Testament of Xionisim shall be written. So Mote it Be."

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/202872-mysticism-ta-white_wolf/?tab=comments#comment-1848956

+1

lmfao

+1

+1

Love this

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/202872-mysticism-ta-white_wolf/?tab=comments#comment-1848956

MC Name:

         White_Wolf

Character's Name:

         The Last Sage / Valeria Soulheart

Character's Age:

         410

Character's Race:

         Mali'aherhal / High Elf

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Seer

Teacher's MC Name:

         EdenGlitched

Teacher's RP Name:

         Solet

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

The Last Sage, a forgotten servant of the Maiden of Souls and relic of a bygone age mused upon the missive. Would the newly reformed Triumvirate be able to ascend past the failings for the former establishment? Only time would tell.

For now, she would watch and wait until the former Ascended was needed.

 

12 minutes ago, Me_llamo... said:

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Ooooh! cool events going to happen in Helious… gonna get my gang there >:)

PD: 

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I got so scared when I saw White Wolf's comment, but then opened it and saw it was very wholesome, phew…

 

The Eternal Smith had taken its last steps, the final sacrifice of the Grand King bringing the gargantuan construct down and offering salvation for the rest of his Dwedmar Kin. The Grand King and The Eternal Smith were no more.

Epic

Cognos | The Vast Repository | Insanity, Wisdom, and Forgotten Relics

An eternal maze of winding passages, bewildering layout, and pathways that lead nowhere. This realm takes on the form of an unending library, brimming with vast collections of forgotten wisdom and relics painstakingly amassed and organized by the mysterious librarians that wander the ancient halls. A dense mist of madness saturates this realm, clinging to the library akin to a weighty obscurity.

Previous Post: 

[Note: Given that this is a Shunting Post using Arcane Displacement, i am perfectly fine with others who hold the Feat to travel to this realm and meet with my character and/or explore it for themselves. If anyone has any questions about the realm i am happy to answer.]

The sound of rushing air tore past her head, as she was pulled across the vast expanses of the Cosmos. The faint blur of flashing images illuminated her starlit gaze, it was impossible to discern any specific details though she assumed they were other Realms she had not yet visited. 

There.. her fingers plucked at the Cosmic Threads holding together reality, her digits carefully plotting her course as if she was playing a harp, each pluck of the string heralding a sing-song note that reverberated across the very backdrop of reality itself. She tugged one last time and then suddenly a blinding flash of light consumed her vision. She had arrived.

Unlike the first few times where she had been unceremoniously tossed to the ground upon traversing the confines of the Waking Realm in her first jaunts across the Cosmos, she had the mastered her Cosmic powers and her arrival this time was much smoother. Her form gracefully came to touch down upon the aged wooden floors of the Library she had found herself in. Within her palm, she carried a handful of dirt from the ground just outside the Conclave she had just left, whether it was superstition or not, she used it as an anchor to find her way back to the Waking Realm when she was finished with what she had come to do. The soil was pocketed, her hands coming together to dust them off as she looked about the chamber she found herself in, surveying her surroundings.

She was in the foyer of the library, a grand entrance hall full of bookshelves and empty desks, floating candles casting illumination hung in the air and doors lined the walls. A dense mist hung in the air however, in her experience it was much thicker in some parts of the Library than others and a weighty feeling of madness could be felt clinging to the walls. As she studied the chamber further, she noted the seemingly nonsensical layout of the room.. not only did the bookshelves exit upon the walls, but also the floors and the ceiling as well, likewise for the doors and staircases that jutted out at odd angles and in some cases led to dead ends or nothing at all.

Her gloved digits came to interlock as she now traced her steps, taking the same route she had always taken and observing for any changes from her last venture. At the bottom of a spiral staircase at the centre of the room lay a desk, she allowed her fingers to glide over its surface and examined the dust. She had made a write a message in the dust the last time she had come here and had placed several books upon the desk when she left. As she looked upon the desk now, it was as if her actions had never happened at all, the dust had returned and the books were nowhere to be seen.

Curious.. she thought to herself.

After a moment of pondering she turned and ascended the stairs, in the blink of an eye it was as if she had ascended several levels in a matter of seconds. In truth, she was still struggling to figure out how the laws of this library worked.. but the harder she tried the more nothing seemed to make sense. She reached the top of the staircase and stepped through a door that hung in mid air, finding herself now standing upon a bridge overlook a vast chasm that spanned for what seemed like eternity in all directions. The walls around her were lined with doors, walkways, bookshelves and staircases that loomed forever into the heavens and as far down as she could see through the mist around her. In the air, candles, bookshelves and doors floated gently through the library.

Her movements brought her to the Centre of the bridge where she leaned against the banister and looked out across the vast expanse of this section of the Library. She knew where she was headed, a section of vaults in the darkest depths of the Library.. that is where the prize lay that she so desperately sought. But at least here, she could take a moment to think and watch.. there would be time to venture yet still. 

She allowed the choir of voices that made up her conscious mind to fill her present thoughts, all the plans she had set in motion, all the lives she had taken.. all the lives she had saved. It was all for one purpose, Salvation. She preached of this Salvation to others, but none truly knew the depths of what she had planned, those secrets were locked within the very recesses of her mind. She had walked the expanses of the Cosmos, she had parlayed with Aenguls and spoken with Dead Gods and unknowable entities.. and in her dealings with these creatures she had learned the truth of existence.

The Grand Cosmic Game.. the game that kept the AenguDaemonica in power.. the game that kept Mortality as Slaves and Puppets to the Divine. She understood the rules, she understood that Souls were power and the fleshen bodies of mortals were but pieces on the board.. and she who controlled the flow of souls, controlled reality itself. 

As an ancient entity had once told her.. she was looking to become that which she sought to destroy, to achieve the Mantle of Divinity itself.  And, the more she thought about her path and the future, the more she could not deny that perhaps this was the only way. The plans she had set forth, the Gateway to siphon directly from the Stream of Souls itself.. to channel that power directly into her form. It was a gamble, but she knew that it was the only way.

She was willing to put everything on the line to achieve success.. all the maneuvering, the plotting, the scheming.. it would soon be coming to a head. She just had to maneuver the final pieces on the board. Salvation was in reach, not only for her but for what she hoped would be all of Mortality.

And so she stood, in silence, amidst that vast forsaken library of madness. Waiting, Plotting.. 

[I'll be updating this post as my character ventures throughout the Library. Thanks for reading.]

MC Name:

         White_Wolf

Character's Name:

         Astark

Character's Age:

         Literally Immortal

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Alchemy

Teacher's MC Name:

         christmanism

Teacher's RP Name:

         Lord Melandrach

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

Yes it was me. A new generation of Mystics rises to take the mantle.
 

In the dark of night.. and the light of day..

They would come.. one by one..

The lost.. the curious.. the damned..

With their own hands would they carve their intent upon those feminine statuettes..

And with each ashen mark would they seal their fate..

From a place unseen would that entity watch..

As one by one the mound of statues grew beneath that tree of luminous silver..

Beneath the tree of the False Maiden..

The dolls served as an oath and a warning.. the entity knew the Maiden was watching..

As one by one those dolls were placed, the ranks of the entity grew..

And the Maiden could do naught but watch..

 

In the moonlit skies of Aevos, a flock of phantasmal ravens would be let loose from a hidden menagerie to deliver unto the Descendants a message and a warning. All over the continent would these spectral ravens be seen, small specs of ethereal light dancing amidst the starlit skies above as if they were but small shooting stars themselves. Tattered parchments would find themselves scattered onto the roads that circumnavigated the outer edges of Descendant Kingdoms, in the vain hope that it found those who travelled in search of knowledge and enlightenment.

Should one find themselves to stumble upon such a parchment, the words upon that tattered page would unfurl before the reader and bestow upon them the fated message.

“We are Astark. This name will likely rouse suspicion and hate from many in this prison of a realm we all call home however we would ask of you dear reader to put aside your hate, anger or suspicion and find within you the will to heed this message, be that spurred on by curiosity to learn more or something else, it matters not.”

The image of a woman, shrouded by a veil with hands splayed outwards and head bowed is seen to be marked at the top of the parchment, a tree of silver behind her.

“Notions such as ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’, ‘Light’ and ‘Dark’ are terms coined by those who would deem themselves Gods, our unrefuted masters. These are terms meant to divide Descendant Kind, between those who know the truth and those caught up in the tapestry of lies so carefully weaved by these deceivers. We are a people divided, caught up in wars of conquest and hate, subjecting ourselves to death and suffering over material goods and perceived insults of honour. A game is being played behind this thinly veiled web of deception with our bodies as the pawns and our souls as the currency.”

A phrase is enlarged beneath this text, the words surrounded by closed eyes.

“Open your eyes”

“We have tried to burgeon the flame within the Descendant Soul, the one that yearns for freedom from this game, this cycle of suffering. But, we have ultimately failed.. those who were once loyal to our cause have fled in fear of the retribution that our actions might bring, others have died fighting to cast free the shackles placed upon us. And now we stand alone, accompanied by a few loyal hands who have suffered greatly to achieve the ultimate goal of freedom.”

“We have stood face to face with these so called Gods and survived, stood at the precipice of Aeriels domain faced her wrath and lived. If we can provoke the so called divine and survive their attempts to wipe us from existence then there is still yet hope. We have found the means to traverse the bounds of the Cosmos and in our travels we have come to know the knowledge of this great game they play, we understand the rules they bide by.. there is a chance to free us yet.”

The image of a solitary specter lingers here, surrounded by vague images of people hand in hand.

“We beckon to the lost, those who think themselves without a place in the world. Seek us out and we shall offer you purpose. We beckon to the curious, those who seek to find greater understanding. Seek us out and we shall offer you enlightenment. We beckon to the Warrior, those who call themselves protector and guardian. Seek us out and we shall lead you to a flock worthy of protection. We beckon to the healer, those who seek to mend the wounds of the sick and dying. Seek us out and we shall grant you the power to save those who suffer.”

“We offer Salvation to all. Should you wish to have your eyes opened to the truth, simply seek out a tree of silver in the desert and leave at its base a statuette of a woman marked in ash. We shall be watching.”

As your eyes glaze over the final words of the parchment, you feel a chill run down your spine that causes you to look around. In those fleeting moments you catch the brief sight of a spectral orange cat, how curious.

Echoes of Darkness

"I feel their innumerable eyes watching from the darkness.. i hear them skittering through the walls.. Gods.. what have we unearthed..?" -A long dead Miner

The once-quiet expanse of land nestled between the Kingdom of Urguan and the enigmatic realm of Talarn'nor was suddenly thrown into turmoil. A series of tremors rippled through the earth, their force unsettling the very foundations of the world. As the ground shuddered beneath their feet, the birds that had filled the skies in serene flight scattered into a frenzied chorus of wings, and the local fauna, normally a picture of tranquil existence, grew restless.
 

Amidst the tumult, the land itself cracked open in several places, revealing cave systems that had long been veiled in darkness. These subterranean passages beckoned with the promise of secrets hidden from the light of day, and an unspoken curiosity stirred in the hearts of those who dared to venture forth. What unseen forces had caused these tremors? What secrets lay buried within the newly exposed caves? The enigma of the moment hung heavy in the air, compelling the curious to step into the unknown, to unearth the darkness and unveil its mysteries..

Would those who dared to explore the depths discover the cause of the tremors before it was too late?

Precursor Events: