The Elder Eye

Every couple of years I regress to my old ways of searching for spook RP. I'm a long time player and competent writer looking for reliable avenues of roleplay in the darker corners of the world (since I can't find it anywhere else). Mostly looking for links along the veins of Blood Magic, Naztherak, or Corcitură, but also willing to hang out with necromancers or other such creatures. I can be reached on this post, or you can message my discord any time.

In the solitude of a wayward shrine, a figure garbed in black knelt in somber retrospection of grim omen. "An inevitability we were so keen to ignore, and one we are now made to face." Dark eyes opened, their shape a reflection of crimson glow cast upon the miasma of incense smoke. "And so He will know defeat once more."

Roleplay is not easily accessible, less so to new players. There needs to be condensed cities and spaces now that the community has been consolidated in the past few years. I am one of many I believe who quickly loses interest in roleplaying on a specific day after traveling from corner to corner of the map- 5-15 minute journeys from the soulstone pillars to different towns- and finding not a single soul to interact with. Far too many people are allowed to have their own tiny kingdoms and private bases. Something which only needs to be granted to the likes of cults, druids, or paladin orders.

A wife at last.

”Humans need to stop marrying. There is far too many to keep track of.” A voice wheezed out upon laying eyes on such a notice.

”Homosexuality?.. Oh dear, somebody should warn our past leaders.” One Mali’aheral said to herself upon reading the new laws. ”I wonder if these new laws will be used as another unjust excuse to drag us to war.”

”Another High Elf, desiring to impart their knowledge strictly unto a Human.” A voice chided upon reading such a poster, tutting shortly thenafter. ”Is this truly what the world has come to, a fetish, or does she truly wish for her teachings to disappear after fifty years?..”

As each person took their time standing atop the stage and preaching to the masses, one woman stood off to the side, content with being the last in line. The Dwelfish girl made her way forward to the stage, her hand rubbing at her lower throat as she climbed each individual step leading up to the podium. She was adorned in a fanciful white robe- One that was made more for comfort than practicality, as she had for the most part been ‘on vacation’ after recent events had transpired. As she looked down upon the fair citizens of Holm, she cleared her throat, drawing her hand back away to reveal the scar which formed a smooth horizontal line across her trachea. ”Greetin’s, Citizens a’Holm.” The woman said in an introductory fashion, her voice giving a soft rasp as she spoke. ”My name es Runa Irongut. Ahm th’daugh’er o’Ryall, an’ th’Niece o’Former T’ane Hogarth Irongut. T’day Ah’ve come t’appeal wit’ th’lot of you as t’why I’d be th’best choice fer Despot of our fair citeh. T’be fair, I don’t exactleh t’ink anehone ‘ere came en preparation wit’ a speech, an’ Ahm no exception.” As she said this, a weak chuckle escaped her, before her amber eyes once more began to scan over the crowd. ”En my ‘undred-odd year life, Ah’ve dedicated my time entireleh t’learnin’ about th’clan I ne’er ‘ad a chance tae be a part of en my youth. Evereh night I was tucked en wit’ a grand story about th’Old Ironguts. Kilgrim, ‘Iebe, Grungron, Skippy. Th’days a’Kal’Agnar and the War against Iblees. Th’battle of ‘Ieben’all.” ”Now tha’ Ah’ve returned to be among my people, I feel as ef I finally ‘ave a place tae call home. And since Ah’ve returned, Ah’ve already bled, an’ suffered t’be wit’ our kin.” As she said this, her slender fingers ran alongside the deep scar. She righted herself, her expression growing steadily resolute. ”Ahm not readeh tae give d’is up. Ef et means tha’ Ah have tae face greater threats t’an my cousin Dimlin, t’an so be et. Ah won’t sit idleh by while folk come en and ravage our citeh an’ th’people tha’call et home- Regardless of race, creed, or clan. While I’m no more learned en our culture t’an my forebearers, I still hold tradition true t’my heart. And until th’day tha’ my soul leaves th’stream, Ah’ll ensure tha’ our clan, an’ our citeh, never falter.” With that, she stepped back away from the podium. Though before her eventual departure, she lifted a fist to the air and declared, “Narvak oz Holm, Narvak oz Kazamar Khrorul!”

Within the twilit hours of the evening, Amaranthe now laid within the confines of her home, her head draped over the edge of her daybed as she pondered the events that transpired that day. With pressed lips, her hands gripped at the sides of the bed and dragged the weight of herself upright. She was unrested, and uneasy. Her eyes turned to the parting in the nearby curtains, a frown twisting itself upon her features. “Damn it...”

https://i.imgur.com/npi2iuN.mp4

”’Ere goes nothin’.” Says Runa Irongut, one of the only two current candidates.

“Mrmhrm...” - An Orcess grumbled to herself in the safe confines of her Blarg, mulling over the contents of the copied decree. - “Diz azh muz’ ztill bi compenzatin’ wid’ ‘iz titulez.” - She then let out a hearty chuckle, tossing the document among the rest of her papers as she headed to bed. -

“Mi aym Rex now tuu. Yub.” - A Raguk stated with a toothy grin. -

can I be a wight