TheWhiteWolf

Big ol' seal of approval from me.

Deep below the earth in some unhallowed Barrow did the master of the dead come to read upon such a missive. An amused laugh escaping their maw in some discordant melody that echoed about the cavernous space. "Short Sighted." at this, the missive was burned and the Barrowlord went back to their musings, their mind turning to other more important matters.

Blood, Snow and Shadow “When your City is in flames with the walls crumbling around you and the very air in your lungs is choked with ash and ember.. When your citizens are hung from the walls and the banners of the Black Sun hang from the ruins of your Keep.. it will be too late to renounce your False Gods. We offer you this one final chance at Salvation.” - The Barrowlord Astark to the imprisoned High Prince of Fenn, Vytrek. In all of Fenns long and storied history, this would be their darkest of days. A day forever to be remembered, where the Stalwart Light of the few stood against the coming dark in what was to be their final hour. The actions that played out this day would determine the fate of their city and their people as they stood on the very brink of annihilation. And yet.. The Nations of Almaris did nothing, standing on the sidelines and choosing to battle their Descendant brothers and sisters in petty disagreements between Nations and perceived insults. Killing and maiming each other over material possessions, land and titles. If only they knew that once Fenn had been reduced to ash and rubble and the banners of the Blackened Sun hung from their walls.. That this host of Xion, this Legion of the Damned would be on their doorstep next. And so the embattled defenders of Fenn stood alone. The Ivae’Fenn, the Vigilants, the ordinary citizens of Fenn and their Azdrazi allies.. Surrounded on all sides as the jaws of death closed in on them. With a Prophecy foretold, warning of the coming events, they did all they could to bolster their defences and forge new weapons. But would it be enough? ❄ The Battle of Fenn Begins ❄ And so that fateful day arrived, an eerie silence taking hold of the city as the defenders stood ready. The Archvigilant of War assessed the defences and the nervous defenders, he had faith in his people and in Wyrvun to carry them to victory. Several lines of defences had been set up between the main gates of the city and the Keep, the once peaceful city had been turned into a veritable fortress that stood ready to receive the Blackened Host. And so it began.. The silence would be broken as thousands of trumpets pierced the wintry air and the howling winds of the blizzard that still ravaged the city. They could not see their foe, the unhallowed fogs and blistering blizzards obscuring their sight to nothing. Yet, the Children of Fenn had prepared themselves, wearing magical helmets to detect the heat signatures of their foes in the mists. Bang. Bang. Bang.. the Gates of Fenn were battered relentlessly, the cries and moans of the undead crying out for the blood of the defenders in the names of their dark masters. Then, with a thundering crack would the gates be breached and the horde of the damned poured through into the streets of the city. “Open Fire!” The command was relayed to the defenders, several ballista and regiments of archers readied their weapons before unleashing a hailstorm of projectiles into the breach and the horde swarming through it. The projectiles glinted under the blackened sun overhead, their arrowheads of aurum and thanium seeming like a descending storm of stars that laid waste to the first wave. Arms and armour fell to the ground as phantasmal warriors were slain in the hundreds, being manifested and banished to whatever realm they had come from. Yet it was nowhere near enough. The first line of defences were quickly overwhelmed, an intense aura of dread taking hold of the city as the undead horde butchered and slaughtered their way through the Fennic defenders without mercy. Chanting the name of their Forsaken Lord and offering up Xionist chants to the Black Sun that lingered overhead. Those who had not succumbed to the butchery that took place in the first line of defence quickly retreated, falling back to the second line as Ballista's were reloaded and arrows were knocked in place. ❂ The Dark Lord Arrives ❂ From the midst of that carnage a towering figure clad in armour wrought of infernal design stepped forth, their stygian gaze coming to study the defiant defenders that stood in opposition to the Children of Xion. The Forsaken Lord of the Xionist forces had arrived, flanked on either side by an honour guard of towering stone Knights that pulverised any would-be assailant that dared neared this Dark God. A discordant choir of voices would make their presence known, booming forth from the armoured husk of that Forsaken Lord. “Children of Fenn, you have had your chance to repent and forsake your False Gods for years. And yet you still stand defiant, willful slaves to higher powers that care not for you or your kin! And so.. With a heavy heart does the duty of your execution fall upon us. We cannot allow you to be pawns to the Aengudemonica any longer..” “Open Fire!” came that command once more from the Fennic Commanders, another volley of ballista bolts, arrows and javelins descending upon the damned host and the Forsaken Lord. The efforts of the defenders would prove fruitless however, the Barrowlord extending forth a palm and bringing forth the mortal magicks at their command to summon an ectoplasmic barrier of immense proportions that stopped the hailstorm of projectiles in their path. A victorious cry would rise from the attackers as suddenly the atmosphere on the battlefield changed.. Both the Children of Fenn and the Children of Xion fell silent as the shadows seemingly intensified before retreating and being pulled into the centre of the city and the gaping crater that lingered there. The two armies stopped their fighting as they watched onward in terror as the Apparition awoke from its slumber under the earth. As a sickening laugh of a child's voice broke the silence, chaos was unleashed once more. The Apparition was the friend of none and the foe of all, laying waste to both the Children of Fenn and the Children of Xion in droves. It shifted in and out of reality, appearing in the midst of tightly pact formations of troops before tearing them limb from limb in brutal fashion. The forces of Light and Dark resumed their slaughter of one another and did their best to avoid the Apparition's wrath as the very streets of Fenn became slick with the blood of the fallen. There was one however that held the key to Fenns salvation and victory in this seemingly impossible fight, a Draconic Warrior and Champion of the Flame. Standing in the back line and offering aid to the beleaguered defenders, his very presence acted as a beacon that bolstered the faltering hearts of those who were overcome with fear and dread. With ease he laid waste to any hungering geist that managed to breach through their lines, cutting them apart and banishing them with blistering dragon's flame. Yet he was here for one in particular, his fiery countenance studying the carnage before him in search of the enemies Champion and Commander. There they were.. ❖ The Decisive Moment ❖ The Forsaken Lord was cutting a bloody swathe through the battlefield and leaving a great many dead in her wake alongside her Stone Guardians. Though her path of destruction would come to a sudden halt as the Apparition conjured forth a glimmering storm from the skies that unleashed devastation on the battlefield and tore into the Forsaken Lord’s Honour Guard and herself, cutting them apart. This was the opportunity the Fennic defenders needed, a single moment in the shifting events of the battle that would determine their victory or defeat. As the Barrowlord engaged in bloody close quarters combat, their armoured form would come to be destroyed and their true form would be exposed for all to see. The sickly radiant visage of the Wight Barrowlord ascending into the air above the battlefield as infernal weapons hovered around them intent on killing a great many more. Yet, unaware to this Lord the apparition hunted her.. Should the Apparition have claimed the power from this Forsaken Lord, it would be unstoppable. It would be unknown if the Draconic Champion knew this or not, but they were well aware of the opportunity that had presented itself and with their arm reared back a mighty spear of dragon flame was conjured forth and hurled with great speed. It punctured deep into the Barrowlords form, a shrill cry escaping their being as it was torn apart and exploded from within. This was the turning point of the battle and the Hierophant, the Forsaken Lords personal champion, sounded the call to retreat. Their voices booming across the battlefield for all to hear! “The Lord has fallen, retreat!” With this final act would the city of Fenn be saved, the Draconic Warrior watching as the Children of Xion were routed from the city only to watch as the Apparition descended on him in those final moments of the battle.. ↽ The Aftermath ⇀ And so the Defenders of Fenn would win the day, but at what cost? The streets of Fenn were covered with the slain bodies of hundreds and the gutters ran red with the blood of the fallen as the city burned. Many sons and daughters of Fenn had been slain, and the Apparition still yet lived in the Crypts below.. Would they continue to stand alone against this threat? Barely holding on to their lives as week after week, year after year they were assailed by the forces of the dark. Or would the Nations of Almaris finally turn their gaze to Fenn and rally to their aid? Only time would tell.

A Legion of the Damned marches forth under blackened banners and the all seeing gaze of a twisted sun. At their front, an imposing figure clad in armour wrought from infernal flame sets their gaze upon a city now besieged and without their leader. "And so it begins.."

In the far reaches of some unhallowed wasteland, an armoured creature issues a decree to have some Draconic Pillar brought low that had come to trespass within their domain. They were completely unaware that for every pillar they destroyed, the Druii would suffer tenfold.. and such a fact would bring a tear to their eye if they knew.

Deep within the unhallowed tombs of the North an individual clad in blackened armour of infernal nature observed a map before them, their taloned digits gently coming to carve deep gashes within the arm of their throne. The map depicted Fenn, a city under siege and surrounded by the Children of Xion who carried the banners of the Black Sun. "Soon.. so very soon shall the city of Fenn be reduced to ash and rubble.. the Black Sun already watches over them now and it shall soon come to fall upon the rest of the world, by our hand we shall make this so." the discordant voices that escaped that armoured husk sounded like some distorted choir and the Infernal figure rose from the throne to venture deep into the depths of that blackened Sanctum. Left behind on that table, several arrows pointed away from Fenn to the rest of the major cities of Almaris.. the Crusade had only just begun.

Applaud the effort that went into this, pretty neat.

Deep within the unhallowed tombs of the North, a figure clad in Infernal armour sits patiently upon a decrepit throne in silent contemplation. Their stygian gaze, forever held captive behind the cold steel of their visor was set upon a worn parchment, a map of Almaris. "So much to do.. if we are to achieve our vision.." the Barrowlord mused, a great many voices rising up to speak in a discordant melody that carried across the chamber. Their silent musings would be brought to an end as a towering Scion of stone marched towards the trio of thrones, bearing this newfound information. "An interesting development.. your thoughts Sister?" the figure queried, casting their gaze upon their counterpart. @Gamma

The Beginning of the End Previous Posts Xionist Forces marching under the banner of the Black Sun being engaged in battle with the Fennic Army and their allies outside the walls of Fenn - Circa 13th of the First Seed, Year 51 of the Second Age It was the early hours of the morning in the quiet city of Fenn and the sun had not yet graced the lands of Wyrvun’s Chosen with its warm embrace. Two of the Ivae’fenn stood guard upon the walls, standing beside a fire that burned brightly and offered them the only source of warmth they would find in this wintry domain they called home. Their gazes drifted out over the mountainous landscape before them that was shrouded in darkness.. Or it should have been. Just beyond the horizon a raging orange light cast a luminescent glow beyond the mountain range and as they set their gazes towards the source of this light, a veritable Legion of the Damned crested the hill. It was an army of armoured warriors, forsaken geists and towering behemoths, all of whom marched beneath the banner of the Black Sun. The two Sons of Wyrvun rushed from their positions, ready to sound the bells and trumpets to raise the alarm. “They are here! The enemy is upon us!” - - - - - The Children of Xion had come. - - - - - Trumpets rose up in unison from all around the city of Fenn, accompanied by the sound of bells ringing to alert those within to the looming threat. Ivae’fenn and Vigilants alike ran to and fro, ushering citizens into their homes and readying themselves for battle. Moments later Prince Vytrek, accompanied by his bodyguard would march out the gates to assess the army that had been assembled in neat formations, ready to march out to meet their hated foe in battle. With a few quick commands the Prince set off into the hinterlands with a small portion of his forces, leaving the remainder behind to guard the city. “You all know your duty, to Wyrvun, to your homeland! We shall repel the Darkspawn this day and in the end you shall stand as Victors over their corpses!” - - - - - And so the proud Fennic Army stood, ready to receive their foe. - - - - - Stood at the forefront of the Xionist forces were two towering individuals wreathed in an aura of dread and malice and clad in infernal armour, the two Barrowlords shifted their attention to one another with but a nod. They knew what they had come to accomplish and the ground was about to be soaked with the blood of Fenn’s Sons and Daughters that day. One Barrowlord set off towards the city with the majority of the army while the other set their gazes on the Prince and his contingent that had sought to lure a portion of the Xionist Forces away. Cold wisps of sickly cobalt mist would come to drift away from the Barrowlord’s visor as she raised her taloned digits to the air, and gestured her own forces along. “And so it begins.. Sister, take the bulk of our forces into the Catacombs and complete the Ritual.. We’ll deal with the Prince” - - - - - And so the Damned Legion marched forth, raising high their blackened banners. - - - - - On the outskirts of Fenn, high in the mountains, did the Prince and his small force wait. They knew the terrain like the back of their hand and had located a corrupted monolith of the enemies’ creation months prior. They had come to destroy it and in doing so hopefully lure a portion of the enemy's army away from the City. The plan was risky, dividing their forces would have dire consequences if either side failed. The Prince however trusted his people and they in turn trusted him; he had faith in Wyrvun that they would succeed. As they waited atop those slopes a towering Golem set about destroying the corrupted Monolith and just when it was about to land the final blow to destroy the aberration, a sickly presence made itself known. The Barrowlord Astark, self proclaimed champion of Xion and Chosen Herald of the Black Sun stood afore the Prince with her forces at her back. “This is the end for you, soon the Black Sun shall reign victorious over these lands. And when you see the walls of your city crumbling before you, your woman and children are slaughtered.. Then we shall grant you the sweet release of death.” As that discordant tone of the Barrowlord’s voice subsided, their arms would come to beckon to the skies above as a legion of lost souls cried together in disjointed unison. As the two imposing forces gazed skyward the sun would seemingly become twisted and corrupted as the very sky was blotted out by a shroud of undeath. As the sickly mists took hold of the city and the battlefield, that once luminescent sun that radiated warmth over the city now resembled a Blackened Sun and only offered silent judgement and contempt. - - - - - And so the Black Sun rises once more. - - - - - Deep beneath the city of Fenn, in the Catacombs and halls of their lost champions, a sickening ritual was underway. The Ivae’fenn, Vigilants and some chosen of the Father Circle hurriedly moved through the winding labyrinthian tunnels, engaging and swiftly dispatching any foes they came across. As the Fennic Force entered the main chamber they immediately witnessed the Wayshrine of Death, that towering statue of Wyrvun, become corrupted - a sickly energy radiating through the stonework. As an ethereal mist came to rest upon the statue and the room filled with incoherent voices all speaking cryptic mutterings from the shadows, the Xionist forces turned and immediately set about engaging the Fennic Defenders in an all-out brawl. - - - - - And so the Sons and Daughters of Fenn fought, to defend their home. - - - - - On the hills outside Fenn, that raging battle for the corrupted Monolith was quickly coming to an end. The Prince’s gambit had seemingly paid off and although the Xionist Legion had otherworldly constructs and commanded the powers of death themselves, they were severely outnumbered. Slowly but surely were the forces of the Black Sun slaughtered, those that fled were swiftly pursued and cut down and in the end all that was left was the Barrowlord Astark who had become engaged with the Prince of Fenn in single combat. Cornered on all sides the Barrowlord had nowhere to run and as they lifted their spear in an attempt to kill one of the Fennic Warriors to create an exit, they would become crushed under the weight of a golem and swiftly finished off by the Prince. - - - - - And so that Champion of Xion and Herald of the Black Sun would be driven back, for now. - - - - - Beneath the City the Fennic Defenders were being routed, unable to stand before the towering constructs of dark design. As they pulled back a monstrous wolven creature hounded their every step back, keeping them pressured with incredible ferocity and strength. They had lost their momentum in the initial engagement and were about to be on the verge of a full retreat when they heard it. A trumpet would sound from up above, echoing down through the winding tunnels. It was a signal, a signal to retreat and Hareven, a Druii of some renown knew what he had to do. The Druid took command of the Defending forces, restoring some order before giving the commands for an ordered retreat to the surface. As the Proud Warriors of Fenn and their allies pulled back, the last thing they would see is the supporting structures of the Catacombs being destroyed before the whole chamber collapsed in on itself. - - - - - A Pyrrhic Victory, but at what cost? - - - - - The Xionist Legion had been defeated and pushed back from the walls of Fenn. The Fennites tended to their wounded and as the Prince aided his comrades and directed the troops in the aftermath of the battle, his eyes would be drawn to the gaping hole in the centre of the city that led deep into the collapsed tunnels beneath Fenn. It was a grim reminder of the cost of Victory this day, but he did not have time to dwell on such. Little did he know of the evil that had taken hold at the heart of Fenn, slowly festering until the day it would be released..

<3 As for Gel Blaster, it would have to be my current Competition blaster which is an ARP-9 base platform that has been converted to HPA and fully upgraded with the latest tech. It's a machine. My favourite character to date has so far been Veil, i've done more on this character to help drive player narrative and events than any of my characters to date. I love all wolves equally and would love to travel to Yellowstone to see the wolves there in person.

Been around since day 1 but i generally fly pretty under the radar for the most part. Figured this would be a good opportunity for those who don't really know me to ask questions.

JUDGEMENT COMES “Change is inevitable. The Children of Xion shall usher forth this new age through fire and flame. And in the end.. You will either join our Crusade against the false Gods or be buried alive in the rubble of your city..” -Barrowlord of the Fog, shortly after the events in Fenn. An armoured figure sat languidly upon the throne of the Fennic Keep, their taloned digits scraping gently across the carved surface of the throne's armrest. Standing impassively before her was that Stoneborn Scion, one of her own creations, a silent guard to keep her company. Outside the Keep, the city bell continued to ring across the city square, rallying the warriors of Fenn to the defence of their city. Moments later and the entrance to the Keep was filled with the form of a Vigilant Warrior, one of Fenn’s finest. Luminescent cobalt mists drifted away from the Barrowlords helm as they cast their infernal gaze upon the entrance to the keep, regarding the first who had come to challenge her this day. “Ah.. at last! A Child of Fenn has finally come to receive their judgement” within the Infernal figures armoured helm, a great choir of voices rose up to speak in disjointed unison. As time passed more members of the Vigiliants and Ivae’Fenn swarmed the entrance and approached the Barrowlord and her Stoneborn companion steadily with weapons raised. Whatever conversation took place within the interiors of these halls was unknown to those who watched on from outside. One thing was for certain however.. The Children of Fenn would not condone the defilement of their Princes throne, nor the presence of the Darkspawn that had come to unleash damnation upon their city this day. With warnings offered and threats given, the battle would ensue and the halls of the Keep would come to be filled with the blood of Fennic warriors. The battle raged on for some time and to the onlookers that watched from afar, they could only bear witness as a terrible sickly fog engulfed the interior of the Keep and shrouded all those inside in a blanket of undeath. The clanging of blades and shouts from those engaged in battle was the only indication of what raged within. When the mists began to recede, that phantasmal form of the Barrowlord would fade from sight and leave the Stoneborn Scion standing alone at the entrance with the Fenn guard in pursuit. From the Stoneborns form came a defiant, rage filled voice that spewed forth one simple phrase as they clutched a large spherical container in their palm. Ectoplasmic waters spewing forth from the many cracks and dents that their husk had received “RADIANT IS THE BLACK SUN!” and with that defiant shout, the container was slammed hard into the wall and a massive explosion rocked the city of Fenn and disturbed what little peace was left. For those trapped inside, they would barely manage their escape as the main entrance collapsed and the entire structure was engulfed in flames and the air became choked with black smoke and ash. Judgement had been cast upon Fenn, and they had been found wanting. Little did they know of the evil that now slumbered beneath their feet, waiting to be unleashed.

I dont often post on the forums or get involved in any of the debates/feedback threads, but i just wanted to say i love the goal of this post. As someone who plays and antagonistic character/leads a group in that vein, I've found from my experiences that speaking oocly with the people you plan on doing villiany to is only beneficial in the long run for the both of you and leads to a much greater narrative to develop between both parties. So the fact you've reached out to engage with the community in the same sort of manner speaks volumes to your good intentions. Now while personally I've had zero experiences with Vargs and can't offer anything constructive for you. I do hope others take this post seriously and offer something of benefit.

Interesting.

Overall, really enjoy the lore. I've already discussed my concerns with you over PM's. Keen to see a force that stands in direct opposition to the Mystics.

A Grim Message ‘Razaakharhala zu'Fenn’ A discordant melody of many voices speaking together in disjointed unison would break the silence of that winter forest. "Strong.." "Proud.." "Unified.." "But most importantly of all.. Survivors.." Tendrils of sickly cobalt mist snaked their way through the frozen undergrowth as the heavy snows fell quietly upon the landscape. Small fauna darted quickly away as that sense of overwhelming dread followed in the path of the mist wherever it went.. A presence of malicious intent and cunning. This cold night would have been just like any other in Fenn, had it not been for the commotion that currently took place at the gates of the City. "Yes.. those Judged worthy will serve the Black Sun well.. for the good of all Mortal Man.." The flaming pyre that marked the remains of previous battles and the remnants of Fenn's previous enemies, crackled and burned amidst a growing gathering of concerned citizens, all of whom had their gazes set upon the Prince of Fenn who did his best to calm their nerves and answer their questions. They all stood before a grim message that had been carved unto the flagstones before them. In no uncertain terms it read "PREPARE TO BE JUDGED." A Messenger had come for them, clad in infernal black armour and wreathed in a sickly miasma. It had delivered its message and the Prince of Fenn had responded with the sword. In the shadows of a tree at the edge of the nearby forest did those misty tendrils reform, taking the shape of an amorphous humanoid figure clad in heavy robes that seemingly fluttered of their own accord in an ethereal wind. The creature was silent, merely content to watch on from the darkness as it studied the Prince and his people with those ice cold eyes that framed the centre of their otherwise featureless face. The people of Fenn.. a curious lot that she had studied for some time now. She had walked their streets, eavesdropped on their conversations and she knew.. Deep within her twisted form she knew there was a chance to save them from the coming storm that was inevitably coming to Almaris. The creature's gaze drifted past each of the faces present as she listened to their conversation and willing the many tormented souls within her own form to be silent so that she could fully appreciate what was being discussed. She had come to deliver a warning to them.. For soon the people of Fenn would be Judged, they were the first on her list and the most promising by far. And like everyone on this continent they would all be given a chance, to turn away from the light of the Aenguls and to the Vengeful Path. To Xion. The road ahead was a difficult one that only the strong would be able to walk, she was about to judge the Descendants and those who came out of the trials of blood, darkness and fire alive.. They would find peace in Xion at the end when all the work was done. Together they would defeat the Aenguls and put an end to the endless cycle of calamities that plagued Mortal Man and together they would rise from the ashes of that conflict to embrace a new world made in their image. Made in the image of Xion Judgement had come to Fenn. And there would be a reckoning paid in Blood.

Very cool, keen to see this play out.

Deep below the earth in the graveyard of a long lost civilisation an ephemeral spirit sat languidly upon a menhirious throne. Wisps of luminescent azure mists slowly curling away from their spectral robes that fluttered gently in an unfelt breeze. Before that unhallowed Barrowlord, a single lone Acolyte rested upon one knee as they delivered the message. "How interesting.." with but the briefest upward flick of their wrist, the letter was cast into the stygian waters below to rest beside the chained dead. "Rouse the Scions and Geists from their slumber, it's time..."

Love to see this, best of luck with getting it accepted mate.

Godspeed mate, take care <3

Fall of Stygian Hollow- Art by Gamma_Byte “Lay your eyes upon these fogs of undeath and know despair, Maleficar. I hold dominion over these lands and my servants roam freely under the Black Sun. Look to the skies, not even the light of the Aenguls shines here. Believe me when I say, this is just the beginning.. Soon I shall blanket this realm in darkness that has never before been seen and then I shall bring war to your Gods.” - Words spoken as the hindering of Stygian Hollow took hold. Far below the earth a circle of Occultists and unholy Geists gathered, weaving fell energies into a gleaming Obelisk of ebrietael stone. All around the chamber could be heard the chorus of the damned souls trapped within the confines of that spire, crying out in eternal torment. And as those screams reached their crescendo, those Dark Arts took hold. Unaware of what was transpiring beneath their feet, the citizens of Stygian Hollow indulged in merriment and drink, painfully unaware of the gathering pale fog just beyond their walls. As that sun did set for a final time and as the air grew unnaturally cold, a single banshee-like scream did break the silence of the night time landscape. Rallying to the square of the city did those citizens of Stygian Hollow come, only to bear witness to something horrific. As the pale fog gathered beyond the walls, tendrils of mists would spiral into the air above the city before taking the shape of some gargantuan avian skull with five eyes. The citizens of Stygian Hollow could do naught but watch in terror as this gathering of mists descended upon their peaceful city, bringing with it the baleful chorus of tormented souls. And so the deed had been done, the light of the Aenguls had been banished from these lands and was never to shine upon these holdings of Stygian Hallow again. The Dawn of the Black Sun was here. This was just the beginning, War was coming.