A mali'ame carved away at a piece of lumber, seated on a stump in forestry beyond the mortal plane. His careful work over the course of many, many years gave way to the intricately detailed shape of a certain elven woman with a staff and long flowing hair. Once finished, he set it beside a completed wooden effigy of a Highlander with a short beard, stern eyes, and crossed arms donning light armor and twin blades on his back. And he stood next to a carved depiction of a gruff half-elf standing resolute with two sheathed swords on his back, as well. The sculptor picked up another log and contemplated his next subject.

"Well they did it so we should do it too" one of the weakest excuses I've ever heard, that doesn't justify fabricating world lore very disappointed in the quality of writing

Blood magic is considered a grey magic, not inherently evil but not good either. Blood mages aren’t really considered spooks, unless they use it in tandem with being one of the things Brazilianski listed.

alright but for real when did the writhing chaos section happen anyone actually know?

The excessive amount of numbers and other logistics and **** in for this magical lore is astounding, quite possibly one of the funniest forum posts of this year https://gyazo.com/e1671cabaa911c836de9921543f4b04b when run through a word counter, this lore does definitely have a general theme so i guess that’s commendable Also, seriously, when did this passage below ever happen? It came from the Void. A writhing, fleshy creature of endless eyes and fangs like a serpent’s littered its gaping maw. Chaos had been given form, and a voracious appetite that could not be satiated by all the aengulic realms it doubtlessly passed on its way to ours. It was the scholars of men that laid eyes upon it first and likened it to a cosmic comet. But then it grew larger and larger as the days and hours passed by until its size rivaled the holy moon. Time was not a luxury we had. From first sight to assured panic, less than a week had gone by. The Writhing Chaos would surely destroy this realm and all its denizens. All our histories, and our futures, doomed to the silence between its marbled teeth. And then we saw her. Like the sun rising from the horizon, the Archaengul arose from the lightened side of the moon in her full and unblemished glory; a shimmering silhouette of pallid moonlight that burned away the darkness of the deep sky. Her hands arose to greet the Writhing Chaos as it loomed near, her pale visage unwavering as a divine white light spurred to life betwixt our goddess’ fingers. Growing in size, and in strength, we each felt the cold sting of absence as our fires left us and were called to a greater purpose. The Living Flame was the last. In one final, blinding flash of moon fire, the Writhing Chaos that threatened our realm was stricken down by a convergence of our flames and our matron’s divinity. What little remained of the terrible beast smoldered as white flame singed its surface away.

Keep it up.

sublime.

: ^ )

never thought id see the day agreed

Veidan regards the poster with a few content nods.