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The familiar crunch of snow beneath her feet gave The Witch a quiet sense of security. She was more cautious than this, generally, but the matter held deep significance. She wanted to understand the inner workings of the mechanism he had left behind with her. She desperately wanted to understand him. In spite of this, there was no safety to be had in the chilled mountaintop, and as the butt of the weapon was brought down against her temple, an entirely unfamiliar pit formed in her stomach. ~~~ The Phantom pulled back the hammer, and looked down at her with eyes not entirely contemptuous, but she could not discern anything in the muddled flurry of emotions. She had no connections to ghosts, to the remains of people she loved and knew. This ghost, this Phantom, continued, his maddened ramblings passing through her. His words floated and drifted in the air, waiting for her to allow them entry. There was nothing to register, The Witch was, entirely unsure of what to do or say. She had so neatly before gathered her thoughts and feelings and tucked them away, and yet here they came, spilling out from her -- He fired the arcane bolt. Blood poured from her shredded shoulder, her still functioning hand rising quickly to clamp over the wound. The interaction passed in an agonizing blur. The Phantom departed, leaving her with one final wound to fester. The Witch sat, dazed, before finally standing, slowly. ~~~ If she could make it through the tunnel, she could make it to the docks and then home. If she could make it through the tunnel. If she could make it. If she could. Her eyes felt heavy, her good arm rigid and sore, still holding the wound. She had little feeling in her other arm, blood dripping down the length of her arm and fingers. She stumbled on occasion, barely able to think, barely able to process anything. Memories, emotions, thoughts, feelings struggled and fought with each other for prominence in her mind, a terrible flurry of things clawing and biting and tearing at each other, mixing, fusing, jumbled. Her mind was dragged along, holding tightly to a fond memory, the face of someone, the thought of something. The memories collected, stirring, forming into an abhorrent maelstrom within her, dragging up old thoughts and other things long buried. She felt fear. She felt sadness. She wanted to retch. She wanted- A memory pushed itself to the forefront of her consciousness, carrying with it a terrible feeling, a tightness in her chest. ~~~ The icy wasteland, frozen forest was a place she knew all too well. Hours, days, time eternal lost wandering, hunting, sleeping. This scene was one she had lived and relived, over and over, in dreams, in nightmares, in times of reflection and in invasions of the mind. She was drawn to it, her fate was tied to this place, she would accept death in no other setting. The Witch turned, scanning her surroundings, stopping suddenly. He was beneath the tree, as he should be. She dared not approach. She simply stood there, breathing heavy. Her chest felt constricted, her entire form trembling. He then, immediately, was not there. Her memories were clashing again, pulling at each other, finding home in the familiar landscape. There was a corpse at her feet, half-frozen to the ground and partially consumed. She stepped over it, moving closer to the tree. He was there, again, but opposite him was her own form, frozen and half-turned, curled up in agony as her very being was transformed. The Witch turned away, a profound discomfort enveloping her, suffocating her. She thrashed against it, a wild and bestial struggler against her past. She pulled at the edges of the scene, dragging it out with her remaining strength, teeth gritted as she awoke. ~~~ Her eyes shot open, pain immediate. The Witch had fainted, body resting against the side of the tunnel. She stood slowly, leaning heavily against the cold stone wall, glancing either way. There was only darkness in both directions, but she began her long walk again, assured, after checking, that she was not walking over her own bloody trail. The Phantom’s words echoed in her mind. Under threat of death, a command to lie. It, for all intents and purposes, should have been the easy. Lying was everything she was, it was a learned art, not by desire but by necessity. It was natural to lie. Her first inclination for everything was to lie. Any given lie rolled easily off her tongue, quick and effortless and without a second thought. However, if any lie she had told before was a bead of silver coating her tongue, this lie was a block of lead. She practiced it, or attempted to, muttering, barely coherent and delirious. “It was a brigand, it was a mace. It was a brigand, it was a mace.” “It was a brigand, it was not a mace. It was a brigand, it was a mace.” “It was a brigand, it was a mace. It was a brigand, it was a bullet.” “It was not a brigand, it was a bullet. It was ---, it was a mace. It was ---, It was ---,” Her mouth closed, but the thought rattled in her brain. It WAS him, How could it be? She was resigned to mourn, but even that had to be taken from her. The Phantom’s words took center stage again, and The Witch was dragged, screaming and howling, to a crossroads. She has falsified many faces before, many personalities, occasionally creating an entire other person. She still, during it all, never denounced herself. Beneath it all, at the center, was still The Witch. She persisted. It was not something she could shed, but something she could perhaps change, one aspect at a time. It would be the most ambitious and important lie The Witch ever endeavored to tell, a lie that becomes truth. ~~~ She lifted her head, eyes adjusting sluggishly to the sunlight pouring through the exit of the tunnel. And thus, The Witch emerged The Woman.

Shapes/natures on top of colors are fine, but I think AT MOST with the aura color there should only be a GRADIENT of one color. So something more like between light and dark purple. Nothing like separately blue and red at the same time.

well, you got me there.

You can't try to start an arms race when one side inherently has a numbers, activity, and basic power level advantage over the other.

The red line section of the lore should exist as a clear and concise area where anyone can look through quickly and have a firm grasp on what is and is not allowed in the lore. If you fill it with jokes it's just going to get confusing and muddled. That's all I'm trying to convey.

These creatures are far out of the vein of regular animals. This is more in line with atronachs, shamanism muklages (I can't spell), and spriggans. These ALL require another player to play them. I honestly and seriously suggest you change this to have another player play it. It is absolutely more confusing. IN an RP fight with 3 people, there are 3 things there and 3 people emoting for themselves. In an RP fight with this there are 3 people, 4 beings, and one person RPing for something that has no actual physical representation. No comment. I do not see why this needs to be a red line. Red lines should exist to clearly lay out what is and is not lore breaking/allowed. Try to keep them concise and straightforward. Once again, not needed as a red line.

Considering druids are disallowed from RPing for animals that are assisting them, and also considering the RP confusion that stems from having one player emote for themselves and a creature that can grow to be as large as you propose here, I cannot support this unless the elemental is played by a separate player. (Or perhaps maybe the cleric can become one themselves?) Also I hate that this has to be included. Um?

Will posts be hidden or can we send information in a PM to avoid metagaming for smaller hidden groups?

>vote is made "hey guys do you want RP in the cloud temple" >vote concludes "No we do not want RP in the cloud temple" > "Hey, new temple, with stalls, great for RP :)))"

Seriously, kind of defeats purpose of tome of power ability & rarity don'tcha think? -1

An ages old Witch (Named Lumia), weathered but unbroken by the passage of time, hefts a box of bottles onto the bartop, stretching her arms out and rolling her shoulders. Her lumious gaze flicks between the pair, musing with a pointed grin, "Shouldn't be surprised to see them getting into trouble, now, eh?"

In the frozen stillness of her time alone, a woman's thoughts drifted back to times before. Voices, a face she had almost forgotten, wanted to forget, but could not. His voice, stern and achingly familiar, "Want me to leave you alone?" A pause, silent contemplation, before she pleads, "Please don't." "Then here I shall remain." But he did not. As she watched him transcend from flesh to void he became like the mist. She could no longer grab him, his presence drifting further and further from her until he had become like a stranger. A proverbial bitterness took root within her. And yet, for as much as he had taken and left with her, in broken promises and severed bonds, she could find herself only thinking back to those few words from before. I have only ever, and will only ever, love you.

suffer with me kid

*leans into mic* WRONG

when are you going to clean your keyboard? when are you going to get more sleep? when are you going to stop

Ok but so why not just have it so the tree people can't have kids. That seems like it would remove a good chunk of awkwardness from this. Like all of the peripherals of that are just...weird.

A dark mage shakes her fist from the comfort of her home, "Laethis wasn't a dark mage, he just cavorted with them, damn fake news."

rp hub in an rp restricted area