CountJuno88

Alras or bust.

This would be good if not for the fact that it is made invalid by secret lore. ((Just kidding! Hopefully the secret lore died with me. I enjoyed this and its depth. I've always felt that the elves never got enough lore loving. This is Countjuno88 and this is my favorite lore post on the Forums. +1 ))

I logged back in just to upvote Aislin's post. Hire me for the 7th time, as well.

*It is a cold and rainy night as you make your way down the road. You hope that the rain will yield its deluge, but no sign of it beginning to slow is apparent. A small tavern can be seen along the way. Light is shining from within, surely a warm fire and a bit of drink might be found there. You duck inside out of the rain and begin to make your way through the various patrons towards the bar. As the barkeep sets down a pint of ale, you take a slow sip before turning to face the fireplace at the far end of the room. Beside it, an aging human male with a long grey cloak hanging upon his back removes a small harp from a wooden case. After he plucks a few notes on the harp for tuning, he begins to play his song. . . http://youtu.be/nDn9q8sr5tA *As he finishes his song, he quickly returns his harp to his case and begins making his way through the crowd, his grey cloak billowing behind him. Perhaps you wish a word with the bard, so you set your ale back atop the counter. When you turn, however, the bard is not to be seen. You rush to the entry of the tavern to gaze out into the torrential rain, but only a dark figure far down the road can be seen before vanishing into the night.

*An old man stands outside the Cloud Temple as the rain pours down from on high. He is dressed in a tattered, grey robe with strange symbols etched upon it in various colors and he holds himself up by the strength of a tarnished staff seemingly made from a once shining metal. The people moving about from shop to shop, trying to avoid the droplets of rain, take little notice of the man as he rambles on. As he observes you watching him, he speaks louder and waves a soaked piece of parchment at you with the fading letters of "The Immortal Lie" written upon it. Will you approach him and see what he has to say? https://soundcloud.com/countjuno88/old-man-rambles-1

I feel it necessary to point out, as one who has consulted on the aspects of Aengul/Daemon ancient lore, that this runs into the stereotypical issue of presupposing that all Daemons are demonic or evil. If one refers to Ancient Lore you will see that any "evil" Aenguls or Daemons had a falling from grace. To make your idea relevant to established server lore, I would suggest adding in the backstory on why he fell from grace and what motivated him to take up his new goals. This might explain the illogical statement as to why, as an Immortal, he claims to not know the Creator, which no Aengul or Daemon has ever mentioned before. I just hope that you had these things in mind when writing up this proposal instead of leaving them wrapped up in mystery. Good luck and take care!

As has been established by ancient lore, the Creator -never- makes any contact with mortals or the mortal realm. The contact made through the Immortals can't even be said to be a direct connection. They only allow mortals to make contact with arcane energy from beyond the Veil which it's origin is largely a mystery to us. We only study it's effect on the mortal realm. Even if it were a connection to the Creator, we could never discover this in role-play.

They say that memories can fade with time. They say that the chaos cannot bind us. They are fools to think these things. Ages come and go and life spins itself anew. What was once certainty becomes clouded with doubt when revelations from beyond the grave step into the light. I thought I walked the path of righteousness as a founder of the United Aegis Coalition. I was assured that I was acting justly as a Sage of the Ascended. I watched my pupils sacrifice themselves in order to foil the plans of Iblees and his minions. I shed tears for each of them, but knew they were not shed in vain. Then the Immortals proved that I knew nothing and my world was shattered. Everything I loved is gone and not even death can bring me solace, but still I hope for tomorrow and search for that which shall bring freedom and peace to all mortals. Gazardiael be damned. I shan't be a puppet to the Immortals' whims. Let the Age of Mortals come. I shall welcome it. I am Martin Benedict and this is my Lord of the Craft.

Minecraft Name: CountJuno88 Skype ID: ski_king has it. Voices you prefer doing: It all depends on the nature of the character being recorded. I am fairly versatile. Sound file (link please): https://soundcloud.com/countjuno88/5th-fragment-of-final-night-memory https://soundcloud.com/countjuno88/mix https://soundcloud.com/countjuno88/orithur/s-tO0UY

You open your eyes and find yourself, once again, in the deep, dark wood. The sky above is crimson as the sun seems to hang in the time of twilight. What is the meaning of this? The wood this time is not so thick, but an eerie red light seems to bounce off of the flora and fauna. That is...not supposed to happen...is it? It feels natural when you gaze upon it, but, deep inside, something is screaming at you that this is not right. Run. Run. Ru--You move forward. Toward the pulsating light in the distance. "Sail the gloom, tis unwise." Whispers hang in the air. Ignore them. Surely they are but fantasies of the mind. This is a dream, after all. You press onward. Something scurries...no, it writhes, in the distance. No time to study it. It is probably nothing. Besides, that light. You must know what it is. It pulls you forward. "Wander not these unknown skies." You gaze up once more. Such a vibrant shade of red. Almost like...blood? No. That is preposterous, of course. Stop getting distracted. Your goal lies ahead, not above. The light. It draws you towards it. "The truth will be spoken in thine ears." A dream, but it feels as if there is some hidden reality awaiting you. It is...absurd, in a way, but why would that even matter in a dream. The light grows brighter. You are getting closer. Keep going. "Bloodless, Godless, the higher: despise." You enter into a clearing. The whispers have stopped. Curious, that. In the center of an expansive meadow, a small, pulsating orb hangs in the air beneath the crimson skies now seen in the clearing of the canopy above. Something seems...off...about this orb. Its pulses are erratic. It seems to glow white, but as you draw nearer, you see a faint, red light deep within. Is this the source of the whispers? Must you know the truth? Do you touch it? https://soundcloud.com/countjuno88/mix