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TwilightWolf

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About TwilightWolf

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    Queen of the Argh
  • Birthday 02/26/1995

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    SargassoWolfen

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  1. Merida reads the missive among her new kinsmen in the Grandaxe hall. She shovels food at an obscene pace the further she reads, like watching a juicy joust that was bound to get ugly. "Ah picked th' roight time t' 'ead home!"
  2. MC Name: CornerianArwing Character Name: Merida Discord: Twilight#0595 Timezone: EST
  3. Aerendyl adds another tally on a chalkboard in his home. Above reads 'Reasons it's probably not a good idea to go paint in the Vale'.
  4. "Holy hell." Aerendyl murmurs as he looks up from his reading, catching a glimpse of the chase from his easy rest in the Mother Grove. He watches the chase with a feeling of curiosity that suddenly melted into a gnawing, nauseating feeling as he realizes what was transpiring. "Holy hell..." He adds again, disturbed, as the glorious wonk falls at the shining spears of Miven's favored. "I don't think it's a good idea to follow through with that suggestion to visit the Vale to paint..." the druid murmurs to himself, looking back down to his book. It was a suggestion from someone he trusted that had come and gone from the Vale freely, and promised that the people were welcoming. He genuinely did plan to visit and bring his easel, but the idea that even an easygoing creature is eligible for such a gruesome, hateful death left more than a sour taste in his mouth. "Even the high elves would be more welcoming, I'd wager."
  5. I actually really like the plugin, it just needs work. For the collective 5 minutes I played, it was fun.
  6. The elder elfess reads over the missive provided by her close friend in Vuln'miruel, thanking him as the Prince-heir went about his way to spread the news. "Perhaps I was wrong to judge this 'aheral princess initially, for in their determination they have allowed Haelun'or to show their own wicked hand. Shame on them. May my heirs of the old mali state of unity support her in purging the rot that has festered in what is left Larihei's legacy." Titania prays, taking a moment to linger her dusky gaze over each flag in her home. Malinor, Laureh'lin, the Dominion, and Elvendom. She places the paper on a nightstand and extends her hand to the very Heart of Malin itself, the great emerald wonder that she has often turned to for some connection to her ancestors and ancient guidance. "I wonder if this will be the age of the great mending between elves." she murmurs to herself, pacing towards the grand window of the Hawksong manor to gaze out towards the grey, shimmering winter sea. "Time will tell. It always does... I have faith yet still."
  7. "They speak so much about how to raise this child right, yet I can't help but question why they are instilling hate of fellow mali into their own young with such venom." Aerendyl mentions, trekking back from a recent sermon beside the Prince.
  8. "Oh shit." the Lord of Dusk says, reading the letter written by his daughter.
  9. Does nobody remember HappyShackles' shenanigans about taking literal *** slaves IRP in Asulon? Is that not like the biggest red flag? Who unbanned him?
  10. Aerendyl takes a flier and notes the jewelry options. He mulls over the text with a whiskey at the dinner table, and nods to himself. "My wife may very well enjoy some of these..."
  11. The cool warmth of gilded leaves has been whisked away by winter's blanket, and while most of the realm tend to their hearth and food stores the most wonderous of traditions emerges from the silvery heights of elven spires. The newborn city of Caras y Tennallar alights with a timeless tradition of the oldest kin of elves; ethereal song that pierces the very heavens themselves in joyous celebration of the season. Voices of ancient lyric, bells of silver and gold chime, figures of the choir dressed in near ghostly robes of white, ruby, and gold. Indeed, the elder children herald the coming winter not with dread nor sorrow, for this is a season of hope and joy for all. And so their voices loft high and echo the great bells of the elvish home... "Hark! How the bells (Hark how the bells) Sweet elvish bells! All seem to sing (All seem to sing) Cheer will we bring! (Cheer will we bring!) Winter is here Let us rejoice! For all the world Lend them our voice! Gaily we sing While our kin sing songs of good cheer Winter is here!" Like frozen specters do the elves of the coast float from town and city, bearing wreaths of holly, decadent sweets and treats, crowns of mistletoe and glittering gifts from the heart of elvendom. Like leaves on the frozen air they dance and sing merry tune and exaltations to the natural order of the world, to peace among descendants, to new life and life lived, and in reverence of those now beyond reach of their heavenly voices. With gentle smiles do they accept new voices to their procession, until like a great lapping of sea foam do they descend upon all nations of the world spreading the news of love, of family, and of the spirit of winter's hope. Seek out the voices and figures, children of the world, for the elves have come to herald all that is good and wonderful in the world! Let your hearts be light and lifted with their song, and may your hearths burn with the firm surety of hope this season. Receive treasures, gift your own, relish the rosey smiles of the youth among us, and celebrate your kin.
  12. Aerendyl eyes the article in the latest edition of the Almaris times while seated in the Warden keep. He settles his fingertips along his stubbled chin and murmurs. "I ought to see if they might provide me a gift for my wife..."
  13. "The following is an account of my memories, fractured and swimming, from the final trial of The Green Priesthood." "The High Priestess has only just now left my side. I can still taste the bitterness of that dry, dusty concoction of what I can only imagine must be a nauseating quantity of hallucinogens. My head is still reeling from my trip here, staring at the shadows of the cloth over my eyes and bumbling through the forest after her. Alas, I am here, at the precipice of failure or success, and the wheels of fate are in an uncontrollable snowball of motion. Oddly, fear of either option is gnawing at my stomach. There is nothing left to do now but offer myself to the Wild Gods for judgement. May you see your strength through my spirit, Morea." "It was somewhere between Amaethea and the edge of the forest when the drugs began to take hold. When I look up to the treetops, they have become like stretching, ominous fingers. They reach up and far away into the sky and swallow the sky. I feel my soul sinking. As if nothing but some spiritual web is holding my body and my soul together, my body lags behind... like a wayward kite behind a trotting toddler. My skin has become feathers. No, more like clouds... Light and free, as if I could think about it hard enough and will myself to blow away with the breeze. I'm smiling. I don't mean to, but I just am. Even still, I smile, and there is a flash of concern within me that this is somehow unbefitting of me to react this way. But, then again... The worry isn't so bad. It would be easier for me to truly fly away from this place than to focus on worrying. In fact, it is hard to think about one thing at once for very long. I is hard to think about one thing at once for very long. It is hard thinking " "At one point I must have rolled over, for now I find myself among unfamiliar trees. I do not know these faces, they are all strangers to me. They do not speak like I'm used to. Though, the earth has begun to chatter in such strange ways, now. It used to sing to me, wordlessly, and I understood it. So why the whispers? My hands feel like flippers as I crawl about on my knees. My stomach has lofted itself in my throat, hungry and aching... I found myself trying to pinch at the dirt after a longbug. Sentillpedee. Cen-ti-pede. There's a disturbing crunch as I bite down into it, but by the time my mind realized the nonsense I had consumed it. Twice." "The animals in the treefinger shadows have begun to taunt me. I see the PackLord's children dashing among the sunrays in packs around me, as if I am some downed prey animal. I don't think I'd mind being torn limb from limb. So here I am, writing the experience of a mauling, obviously." T ---------- S d ~ l -- r . . . "I've awoken somewhere without any of my previous possessions. The strange wounds on my body don't indicate foul play, for I look like I have just unearthed myself from a premature grave. I reach to my side and panic briefly, before I recall passing my staff to my wife before submitting myself to this trial. I breathe a long sigh of relief. I must not have had a sip of water the entire time. My throat nearly stuck to itself as I swallowed down hard. My head throbs like the fury of a stone giant's pulse. I've begun wandering my way back towards the sound of a distant river. I can already feel the chill of the water rushing down my throat and into my belly. I've forgotten the pain of hunger, but my body aches as if a carriage had barreled over me at some point. Or perhaps I really was at the mercy of wild animals. I suppose I'll never know. The visions are strange and haunting, but their meaning I must ponder upon more. I am here, however, between the borders of the nation and these bewitching wood. So I shall go, now, and recount my tale. What a beautifully strange world this is."
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