DISCOLIQUID

ay mate put some spidah on tha barbie

A foul-clawed creature limned by raucous shades of unfair crimson, flickering lamplight, breaks the wax seal on a letter never intended for its desk. "De Beaumont, hm? How curious." There, a hooked talon tracks the works penned in the mortal's dying moments, and a bleak & soulless cackle breaks the silence. The murderer, more amused than lamenting, flicks the paper. "She promised her son's head as a bargaining chip, seconds before we ripped her in two! Lucky day, lucky day!" Catcher stores the letter in a chest, proof by which to gloat with, to know in their blackheart that none who served the Black Church would ever find salvation, in this life or the next. A memento mori of the Hell's corruption.

In all honesty, I don't think anyone actually roleplays the creation of completely harmless, player-signed potions. It's actually my view that these potions should just become open for RP for anyone, under a banner we just call common alchemy, or something similar. As it stands, and I'll own up to it, if I want a luminosity potion, I just player sign a bottle & that's the depth of my interaction with alchemy for it.

Damn, I really should have just been powergaming frost salts this whole time.

A sauced Catcher, wet with gin, slung sour stories through a smirk; the rogue embellished, wove a tale of their macabre victory over the honorable Dwarves. Still, that arrogant murderer, of no fame & no renown, took a moment to applaud what ferocity they had seen in the ursine gladiator. "He swung his axe like three men!"

Getting caught as a Corc is already punishing enough. You don't have to tell the people capturing you if the potion worked OOC'ly, it is your choice. It's likely they will just kill you, either way, though. Adding a temporary nerf, after you're caught, then killed, seems brutal. The FA gives you some claws, and makes you a bit better at sneaking -- maybe. Unnecessary changes in my eyes.

Voidstalkers don't already have a once-per-combat or similar limiter on Invasion, their unavoidable, two-emote concentration breaking spell?

I love my Haruspex feat, I wish it had a little more flavor in it.

How many other Inferi have golemancy? Aren't I one of like, two?

we should bring back silit d/c for druids, if you get eaten by another druid you are pk'd like how nature intended

A woman rocks in a chair, wholly mute, and almost certainly disinterested in the politics of the mortal world. That said, a small smile creeps onto her face as she notices a missive declaring Ark, who had spent half of their very first interaction trying to gaslight her, a criminal.

i like hang out and do ambient street urchin rp where i use my Brush item to sweep the roads wow thank you

Lofted in a starlit laboratory, skewered by kaleidoscopic vectors of gloam-shaded light trails, a singular charlatan -- more performer than prodigy, frowns. She holds a letter, tapping it thrice; each motion of hers an act, a whimsy, the legerdemain of a liar with less & less to lose. The "Great Wizard" Charms, as much fraud as philosopher, laments the passing of the one and only friend who had seen through her truths, to deeper lies, and peered further still to the unwavering ability couched in the hearts of dreamers, deceivers alike. A sorrow floods the hollow of her manic heart, bids a hand to rise; thumb, forefinger, palm to the nose and face. Behind the pale veil of her grasp, where the greatest tricks take place: substitutions, vanishing acts, bisected aides in their ruby glamour, conjured hares... these colorful prestidigitations fell wayward. In their absence, a bilious sobbing overtook the truth-breaker. She mused her "ancient question", nothing more than a fortune-cookie postulation, the type of riddle you could find on a dollar-value card printed from the Zoltar machine in your ex's favorite dive bar, the worrisome provocation that kept up the ruminating or the honest-hearted -- despite its cheap lacking, its fool's gold ring. "What is the difference between magic and miracle?" And it ate at her, until night threw its starry hands up, abandoned its claims on her sleep. Only morning and the sanitized light of an unflinching sun, judgmental eye perched high in a grey dewy dawn, could lull her to undeserved rest. There, she dreamt of the wizard's impossible: of gullible audiences, of stunts pulled smoothly, and of happy endings. Somewhere in the Never-To, or the Always-Was, or the This-Times, she knew, as well as children know of faerie & filigree, Tomes would trip the light fantastic. @Tael The honor of our meeting was all yours, friend, but the joy of it was all mine. I hope you find something fun to do now that Tomes' book is shut!

All art should have to be crayon or colored pencil going forward.

Well, the formatting of how much rakir smiths how much rokodra smiths how many items doesn't really follow the material compendium, which outlines that an ingot of something makes eight arrows, three ingots is a tower shield, and a set of armor would ultimately cost somewhere close to fifteen ingots. Other than that, it's a sensible lore page.

I think it rewards longer term dedication to the demon slot, which is sorely underplayed. A worthwhile trade-off, giving some unique buffs in the situation of a more difficult ascension. I can see this potentially becoming too powerful, though, or rather more powerful than the normal Zar'ei - with two malices. It's something I personally would be fine with seeing, but you might not be able to get accepted, as it would make Imp > Imp King > Zar'ei strictly better than straight Zar'ei.

Fighting people in the main-square in the activity capitol of the world is not very pataphysical. Do villain RP behind closed doors, bribe & plot a way to violence. It's true that some Alban guards suffer from main-character energy, but the majority I've interacted with do have somewhat developed characters, a functioning brainstem, and an understanding of narrative. As always, I dislike when players who have committed to evil are wholly unallowed to just visit a city at all - it's plausible that guards might avoid conflict with a known do-badder simply because they care more for the peace as a whole, and starting a one-sided murderous fight is rather bland from either side. I think a cold war style of "as soon as you start something, you're dead" is better than "die now, ask questions never". There are many RP outlets to handling an evil-doer in your city besides just CRPing them, like arresting them, mocking them, maybe even trying to sprinkle holy water on them.

A hissing thing, more stone than Dwarf, coils its fingers around a missive. No light is shed in its cave, the foul candles having burnt down to wicks years ago. It taps claws upon an onyx jewel, just the size of a palm. Cast within is the shifting visage of Ulfar, King of All Dwarves. "Wisdom?" it decries, having long since abandoned any shared mantle with the Starbreaker. "Perhaps," hushes back its paranoia, manifest. Still, no mercy could be shed for old enemies. A cackle fills the empty stone antechamber. Malaise and fire wreath the orb, descending in invisible tendrils - like snakes - upon the crowned royal. As Ulfar turns to rest, after long days and longer nights of deliberation and hardy work, no respite could be found. Dreams of sweltering confusion rob all sense of real rest, as images of Dungrimm flicker. The Brathmordakin guards the Moon, yet turns back to the King in his nightmares. Dungrimm removes his mask, and there is nothing underneath. The Moon shrieks, alive with an undead coating of ethereal and glistening Dwarvenkind. Depictions of an auction, long since left hollow and abandoned, and empty halls that bear no divinities or earned glory. When the King would awake, surely in a sweat or fright, he would find his books overturned - papers ripped out. Notes scrawled in the speech of demons, and worse, any statues or edifice dedicated to the Brathmordakin? Their faces had been desecrated, clawed, and left inhuman. Narvok oz Khorvad. @Papa Rock

i want to stab blind people (im blind)