The Elder Eye

"Finally! Andria will have time to go camping and hat shopping with me!"

Valmuel giggles giddily.

"Do I wear hats? Does she? Bah... We can still go have tea and eat fancy cheeses!"

He sighs, now seemingly saddened.

"I will miss her as Maheral though..."

The Engraved looks at Verin's response with a chuckle,

"I will certainly have to meet this one soon."

I support this.

The Lore Masters were not too descriptive on the type of possession that it says

in the wiki currently, thus, has caused much confusion in the community

of the ghosts. This seems like a fair ability to add into the game... Since

many have been using it already under false pretenses.

The Engraved dwells around his underground domicile,

he remains silent as he hears the voice around him...

He looks to the Shadow as well as Wilbury, to confirm they

are not the ones that are speaking.

A thick black smoke begins to bellow from his mouth and nose,

"I dare you... I shall harvest your soul and put it to work for the rest of eternity..."

A crack of thunder hits, vibrating through the halls as a dark, ashy mist floats into the room. It's aura looks as if the mist carries embers, flaring a fiery red as it takes shape.

The Engraved, escorted into the room by two ghostly apparitions, takes his seat.

The Shadow allows for the remaining mist to dissipate, looking to the other spirits with a nod.

Ilen'a Dragahn fades into sight, barely discernible from the stone seat her spectral form sits upon. Her delicate gaze falls upon the others present, silently observing.

The Shadow shifts his red gaze towards the new spirit before speaking, "Come forward, Sister."

Ilen'a Dragahn's head tilts slowly as she rises, seeming to walk though her feet are a few inches off of the ground.

Her voice is almost a distant echo, delayed and resonant, "...I felt stirrings in our halls..."

The Shadow looks interested, "Continue, then." He waits for the spirit to explain.

Ilen'a motions around them, "...Here... I meant... Why I have come..." She says, her voice fading in and out as she speaks. "Curious..."

"Aye, and you stand before the court itself." The Shadow pauses slightly.

The Engraved folds a leg over the other, "Welcome back to the physical realm... To our 'Ingthand'." (Hall of Souls)

Ilen'a Dragahn looks around briefly, her gaze settling on her kin, "I know you... Long ago... Yes?"

The Engraved nods, "Indeed you did." He adjusts his view on her.

She chuckles, the sound is eerie, "Never paid... Much mind to the... Ingthand when I lived... Ironic..."

The Shadow smiles at the reunion before he continues, and waits for the two to finish.

The Engraved looks back to the Shadow, "What business have we to discuss this day?"

The Shadow:

"The return of our founders. A day that will soon come. I have already heard word of the Graven, and expect their appearance eventually."

Whispers echo through the ancient hall.

The Engraved:

"I see."

The Shadow looks to Ilen'a, "Before this court, there was another. Once held in high regard by all."

Ilen'a's gaze shift up to the one speaking, seeming interested.

Shadow, Con.

"I was one of the few who had first become part of such a court." He chuckles and looks to (Rzahnch) The Engraved, "I was the Engraved, the scribe of the Court of Souls."

"Our leader, the Silver Sentinal, left upon his own affairs, and did not return for an age. The Court dissipated as the shadows always do at dawn, and it left the Court barren."

Ilen'a glides gracefully back to the seat she appeared in, looking at the table, "To what purpose... Do the dead... Converse?"

The Shadow stops the story to answer, "To bring order upon our kin's affairs. To rid us of threats and to keep all in order. Threats such as the undead plague us still, but not for long."

Ilen'a frowns slightly, "Undead... Cycle after cycle... They were not ended?"

The Engraved: "So long as Iblees exists, the undead will always be among us."

Ilen'a:

"So the cycle continues on... It seems I have not missed as much as I may have thought."

"Their rise has brought us grief, something that I wish to not repeat." The Shadow clenches his fists.

The Engraved sighs, "Let us move on."

The Shadow nods in agreement, "Let us return our founders. After the court members had left, the old catacombs rotted and decayed."

Ilen'a falls silent, simply listening.

Shadow:

"I was the only one to remain, protecting the lands from that of the living."

"Those days numbered too far to count, and the rise of the new powers gave purpose to a new court."

"I remember looking towards the inscribed laws, and had to reunite our kin to protect us all. Which brings us to the court that stands before you. The Court of Fallen Shadows."

"So spirit, you have come to us, and so I shall ask for you to join this court, and unite with your kin. Your brothers and sisters, those who will stand by you in eternity." He awaits her answer.

The Engraved looks to her, giving her a slight nod.

Ilen'a looks around silently, then gives a shrug, "I have... Wandered aimlessly for time untold... I see no harm in gaining some form of purpose, though what do we wish to achieve?"

The Shadow:

"Peace, order, and unity. Our kin have been plagued by the living, cursed by it, and threatened by it. The Court is our way to fight back with reason and certainty."

With a cloud of dark fog, a bloodstained dagger appears in the Engraved's hand.

The Shadow grins at the Engraved.

Ilen'a rolls her spectral eyes, "Ah..."

The Engraved runs a hand down the edge, "I had the pleasure of 'speaking' with the mortals."

The Shadow chuckles, "We have resorted to other means, but that of which have reason."

The Engraved twists the dagger around within his cold grasp, "If I may..."

"I would like to present to you the events that gave me this weapon."

Ilen'a leans back in the seat, her form slowly becoming more substantial, growing more comfortable in this odd state of living.

The Engraved nods to the two soldiers standing beside him, they appear to be spirits, decaying Elves.

They float upon the table, one melds into the form of a young Elven woman, the other into the Engraved himself.

(The spirits act out the events here: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/119340-a-life-taken/ )

The Engraved claps, "Very good act."

The Shadow claps as well.

The Engraved:

"Her name, was Valulaei."

Ilen'a Dragahn's expression is unreadable. She looks up to Rzahnch, "And what was her threat to us?"

The Engraved:

"She posed us no threat... Her death was a message. The same as the Dwarf's."

Ilen'a Dragahn:

"Yes... A warning that the dead are coming for them, threat or not, and giving them incentive to hunt for ways to eliminate us, and search for where we gather. You are indeed brilliant."

The Shadow: "Exactly."

The Engraved can not distinguish her words from sarcasm or not. Giving a blank stare.

Ilen'a Dragahn's words are too indistinguishable in tone to tell, but likely sarcasm.

The Shadow speaks out to continue, "What questions do you have of this court?"

Ilen'a:

"Does it indulge fools that are nothing more than ghostly murderers, or is there some greater purpose we strive to?"

The Shadow raises an eyebrow at her tone, "We do have greater purpose, which I already explained. We do not bring in fools, nor kill the living like live-stalk. We have reasons, good or bad."

Ilen'a motions to the table, "Then I fail to see how the murder of a woman of no significance or threat furthers such aim."

Figures start filling the room, some spectres, many poltergeists, all stand silently, looking at the three. One thing they have in common, they are all soldiers.

The Shadow looks over to the Engraved, "His reasons are his alone. His aims are his alone." He continues. "The Court abides to different aims, different goals. The Engraved does as he wishes is best."

The Engraved: "My actions... May not have been the most selfless."

The Shadow:

"He is held in high regard. Only if it becomes a problem do we act."

The Engraved: "Please, do not defend what I do."

A ghostly chicken floats into the room, standing with the soldiers.

The Engraved looks to Ilen'a, "You see these men and women standing around you... Yes?"

Ilen'a Dragahn shrugs, waving a dismissive hand, "I care little in the end... I have spent my after-life wandering, observing, learning. You apparently spend your spilling blood. To each their own..."

"These men and women, along with myself, fought to the death for our people, you shall treat us with respect!" The Engraved's voice booms around the halls of the citadel.

The Shadow gestures for Rzahnch to calm down, "Let us be civil here."

Ilen'a:

"Soldiers... No wonder... We scholars and architects of our grand cities never sullied ourselves... And yes, thank you for the amazing job of preserving our people, now that we're on that topic..." She points a delicate finger towards him. "Do not throw acid if you are not prepared to receive it."

The Shadow raises his arms to both, "Enough. This meeting is to bring peace, not conflict. Respect one another. What we were in our mortal life does not condemn us to that of our afterlife."

The Engraved looks around the room at the various Graven, his voice darkened and angry, "Try explaining that to them..."

He looks to Ilen'a "We fought for our people, so those such as you, could thrive with your science."

The Shadow glares at the Engraved, "You are angered, but that does not mean you bring your anger upon others."

Ilen'a returns the stare, "And we, 'thriving in our science', provided you with the tools to fight and protect our people. We are one, and you do not speak down to the Tinkerers like that..."

The soldiers in the room combust with a blue fire, fading to ash.

The Engraved:

"Our symbiotic relationship did us no good... All who remain live in a volcano..."

Ilen'a:

"We thrived for a long while, but to things that come to an end... Our people survive hidden away, that is a victory in your name, in our name. May they never interact with the other races again..."

The Shadow hopes the fighting has ended.

The Engraved:

"When I killed that woman... That Elf... I felt at least a bit of relief. With the murder of every Mali, I feel as if our people come a step closer to their former pride."

"Innocent or not, they killed us just for being who we are... And defending what we stood for."

Ilen'a shakes her head, "That war is forgotten... Our name lost to history. We are unknown to them. And we too are Mali."

The Engraved breathes deeply, containing the rage of her last statement.

"Do not speak those words. We were no longer Mali
at the moment when we were forsaken by our kin!"

Ilen'a stands up and turns from him, "We are even more Mali at that moment, and our brethren lost the right to bear the name..." She says, walking towards the wall.

The Shadow rises and bellows out a large roar, "Enough!" He continues in a dark, demonic voice. "Conflict that of which you had no longer plagues you! As spirits, those times passed away many, many years ago, no longer being relevant to our current issues. What conflicts you have needn't be continued. What lives you lived have passed, and you now live as you are. Let that be known before such an argument begins again within this court."

The Engraved flashes a tinge of red.

Ilen'a shrugs, "I have no delusions, my old life continues, but one who demands respect will give it in turn. I have no cares to give this argument, it is done as far as I am concerned."

"Then so ends the argument." The Shadow turns to the Engraved, "Is that settled, or do you wish to keep fighting?"

The Engraved sits silently, he closes his eyes, "I... am done."

Shadow: "Good." He sighs. sitting back after his rage.

Ilen'a nods and turns again, "I am going... Remaining corporeal wearies me, I feel myself slipping back..."

Shadow: "Then let this meeting conclude for today."

A large crack of thunder marks the end of the long meeting.

Ilen'a nods and begins to fade from sight, casting one last glance towards The Engraved, then vanishing.

((It would be known to those present during the murders that it was a ghost, but it would be hard to identify which ghost it is, due to him altering his physical appearance quite often.))

((The victims are free to return on their own accord, but I believe Malicore is permakilling this character of hers/his. The Engraved has a reason to why he is killing mortals, but it is not a clear one.))

Skin Link: Imgur is not working, so I shall put the images on-screen for you...

Type: Signature

Details: I would like him to be in a dark room, he would be glowing a dim red light as he is a Poltergeist.

He would stand in this pose:

The staff would be replaced by his halberd (Example: http://i.xomf.com/mhlxx.jpg)

His face would be very solemn. The magic in his left hand would be the same, a red wispy coloured flame.

Do you drink coffee?: I like my coffee like I like my women, yes.

That made no sense at all.

Can you make variations for players of Spectrals?

Such as options for Poltergeist, Spectre, and Graven?

Spirits danced around the blackened sky, they appeared to be Elven soldiers, though they were no longer alive, their skin rotted, some missing eyes, fingers, even full limbs.

They were adorned in plate-mail, they stood around the beings, as if they were an acting barrier, standing solemnly... They held the weapons they used in their past lives with great strength.

She was trapped...

Victim to the will of the Engraved.

She rose a dagger in protest, but it was to no avail...

The floorboards under her feet snapped onto her legs, immobilizing her like a deer stuck in a bear trap. She adjusted her stance, groaning in pain as the wood stabbed into her ankles and calves.

The woman dropped her blade, as it lifted upon it's own, it flew to the hand of the assaulting ghost.

The ferrum blade floated within the grasp of the spirit, into his left hand.

He stood there, he was coated in an extravagant set of armour, halberd in hand, he grasped it tightly, looking at her like a beast after it's prey.

He approached her, as she stared in terror. Raising his arm, he slashed at her. Her arms crossed over her body, and her forearms were sliced open by the sharp edge.

Tears started to form from her eyes, she begged for her life, but no mercy was given.

He slashed once more at her arms, they cut open once more, blood dripping from her forearms down to the wooden planks.

"Submit to your fate, and it will be over swiftly..." A disembodied voice had said.

The ferrum blade flipped, he thrust it down unto her body, stabbing into her forearms.

Fatigue set in, she fell back.

Upon her falling back, her wooden bound legs released a loud snap as her tibia and fibula snapped in two. She lie on the the ground, the dagger repeatedly stabbing into her guarding arms. Her body was filled with an indescribable pain.

Her arms finally dropped, all of the energy sapped out of her body, her vision dimmed... Her fate was sealed.

The Engraved, Rzahnch Nchazefk, walked to her, raising his halberd high above himself...

He stabbed it down, cutting through the flesh and rib, puncturing her heart.

A large amount of blood exploded forth from her chest like a sanguine fountain...

Her body racked from fatigue and knife wounds. Tears stained her blood-soaked face. The blade she once turned to the great Spectre, now lie in her heart.

Her friends rushed to her aid, but it was too late, Valulaei'Leyun died in terror and agony, alone within the darkness of illusion.

The illusions and darkness faded into the peaceful veil of night, as her friends stood over her, The Engraved broke apart into the wind, disappearing.

All that could be heard was the crying of Primrose, her Halfling friend.

A voice echoed in the wind, "May your soul rest in peace..."

((Sorry if this is considered necroposting.))

Valmuel walks through the woods on his daily search for good camping places... His robes flutter behind himself as he walks through the woods.

He spots the body, pushing his long white hair back behind his large High Elven ears,

"My goodness... What a sight. Well, a dead cultist is a cultist never deserving to have lived in the first place... Unless he's an undead cultist..."

He continues walking along the bloodied path when he comes upon the amulet,

"A bit far from your owner, aren't we..? Oh well, I'm sure he won't miss you, he's dead."

He pockets the amulet, continuing on his merry way.

He stared up in the midst of chaos... Spirits filled the room from every corner. He was weak, struck and stabbed multiple times by swords seized by the Engraved...

His allies turned a blind eye to him, laying in the dark hallway, all alone. While they were distracted by illusions, he went finally to finish his quest.

The Dwarf stared up at The Engraved, Rzahnch Nchazefk, as he lifted his spear up high. He knew not what to say, this Dwarf's name, Hurf Irongrinder.

He dropped his spear upon the Dwarf, puncturing his chest. As his life passed before his eyes, he lay motionless...

The Dwarf's blood soaked the floor beneath him, leaving a puddle of crimson red surrounding his body, as he slowly faded.

The room's torches burned brightly once more, the illusions created by the spirit met in the center of the place, swirling around as a cyclone would do, before disappearing into the void...

As this happened, in the deaf silence... Words echoed around...

"Now you know death..."

OOC:

I want to make this clear, Hurf saw himself get impaled via illusion, in reality, he was stabbed through the heart by one of the many blades being kinetically controlled by the Spirit.

Varyon looks to the main poster, then to Relien's note.

"I wonder if it's real..."

Shame, I made my skin and everything.

1.) It's been about 3 days, where will I have had to look to know if I was accepted? I looked in Skype and Messenger.

1a.) What did I name my character?

A light Laureh'lin rolls through breeze.

1.) How do they communicate with one another? With feral noises, speaking their own language, or even common?

2.) Can they be taught knowledge as a humanoid would, such as teaching a toddler to read, write, etc?

3.) How many are there?

Why not just add the abilities to learn more types of druidic magic? Nothing too fancy, just keeping it at Communion and Control, maybe healing. I believe this may add more intriguing RP and more culture to be added to them. But of course, they would need a teacher/druid guide.

Things that may support this:

1.) They are made of plant matter

2.) They worship the Aspects

3.) They've centered themselves around the Druids since their discovery.

4.) They are able to commune with nature itself.

I don't mean to diss your current lore, but this may be an interesting thing to do, since they do seem like they are getting the short end of the deal...

A black mist floats into the room, carrying an ashy red aura towards the high seat.

The Engraved is escorted within the room by two of his ghostly followers, appearing to be decaying Elven guards.

Blue mist in the form of a lion would walk into the room. It would leap across the room towards the seat nearest the Shadow's seat.

A thin gray smoky outline of a figure can be seen slowly walking into the room and sitting across from the lion.

A crack of thunder echoes through the room as the mist materializes into the Shadow.

The Shadow looks to all of the spirits, "Welcome, to a new start against a new threat."

Shadow, Cont, "We were attacked by those known as the Undead, destroying our catacombs, and taking our trusted brother. On this night, we shall choose what to make of this threat, and how we may get our revenge."

"If I may interject." The lion said, it's icy glare floating over to the Shadow.

The Shadow nods, finished with his beginning speech.

Wilbury (Lion):

"I say we go all out on this threat. An all out war against the undead. What happened to us is unacceptable. Now, the question is now how do we wage war on this threat? And I have a perfect idea."
 

Wilbury (Lion):

"One of us takes over the leader of a territory and, through them, uses their army to attack."

"My idea is the following. We possess the leader of a certain land and use their army to attack the undead, or cultists, wherever they may be found. I would, of course, appreciate thoughts on this idea."

The Shadow nods, "We may do this, but there are very few who ally with the undead in such a way."

Wilbury: "And there are very few who are fighting them, Shadow. After what happened with the Dwarves, many people have diverted their attention."

The Shadow looks to the others, "What say you of this plan?"

The Engraved whispers to his escorts, they leave the room shortly after.

Cicero turns to the Shadow, "I am not entirely sure how this plan would work. Most leaders of nations and large kingdoms have a man of mystic potential within themselves that would most likely detect one of us in them."

Shadow:

"I agree with you Cicero, and so I say that we must show our good intentions upon the mortals."

Wilbury:

"And so, what are the suggestions of others, then? I'd love to hear them, as this threat is cruel and vicious."

Shadow:

"We shall show our presence to the mortals, I say."

Wilbury:

"And how does this harm the undead?"

The Shadow:

"You said of those who could fight, but do not. We show it's importance."

Wilbury:

"I ask once more, how does this combat the undead?"

The Shadow:

"We shall not fight for the mortals, but for our own reasons. They will simply be a means to an end. We can use our gifts. We can possess mere cultists and fight within the ranks."

Wilbury:

"That is an excellent idea."

Shadow:

"We will destroy them within, leaving them crippled for defeat."

Wilbury:

"I am behind such a strategy."

The Shadow looks to the entire court, "These undead cannot be possessed easily, but their minions can. They can be killed by many different means and their ranks can fall to our influence. We must make it apparent to the mortals of our help to end the undead is what we shall do first."

Wilbury:

"Wouldn't it be formal to hold a vote on this strategy?"

The Shadow nods, "We always hold the vote, this is a mere idea that I offer to our situation."

Wilbury:

"I support it."

Shadow:

"So what say you all?"

Cicero motions that he would wish to speak.

The Shadow gestures for Cicero to speak.

Cicero:

"I feel that if we do reveal ourselves to the mortals, they will betray us. Wouldn't it be more prudent to just go ahead and take control of the cultists?"

The lion nudges his head a bit, motioning that he'd wish to speak.

Shadow:

"Aye it would be." He allows the lion to speak.

Cicero:

"When I was in the Imperial Guard when alive, we didn't announce our attack on the enemy before we did so, we just charge head-first into battle for better or worse."

Wilbury:

"I would agree with him. Many mortals have a close mind on things. I would know, I used to see people get beheaded in the streets of Petrus because their hair was ginger. So, I tihnk we should just go on possessing the cultists."

The Shadow:

"Then it shall be done once voted for by the entire court."

The Engraved adjusts himself in his seat, "I agree with this plan. But, what would stop the undead from killing their own minions if it is found they are possessed?"

The Shadow:

"We can not be killed by their own means. If they lose their minions, they are at a loss. We know of our limits to gold, and I would think that they do not offer gold weapons."

Wilbury:

"They do not. I've been in those compounds before, no gold at all."

The Shadow:

"Then they will be at a loss."

The Engraved:

"Reaching them would mean entering the realm of Iblees, the Nether. The Archdaemon himself would sunder our souls apart."

The Shadow:

"That is true Engraved. What say you, members of the court?"

Wilbury:

"If I may... Cultists do have compounds in this plane. Not many now that Velkan has fallen, but they do. However, it is worth the rish of going into the Nether, I'd say. As long as we can get a vessel quick enough."

"They do have Rivel," Cicero interjects, "If that fell, it would be a great loss to them."

The Lion nods towards Cicero, before redirecting his gaze to the Shadow.

The Shadow:

"Then that shall be our plan, if you all shall agree. We take Rivel from the inside."

Wilbury:

"I vote yes on this."

Cicero raises his hand, "As do I." He then disappears into the mist.

A crack of thunder marks the end of the meeting.

The shadow: "Then their fate is sealed."

OOC:

Join here: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/117686-the-court-of-fallen-shadows/

No Metagamers please, you will be reported.
 

A crack of thunder marks the start of the Court as spirits fly into the deep, dark room.

The Engraved organizes a stack of paper, lifting a quill to it.

A dark red spirit drifts over to the front seat, manifesting into it's humanoid form.

A luminescent blue light would float his way over towards a spare seat, manifesting into the form of a bird.

A dark blackish red light would float over to a seat, manifesting into an ethereal robed figure.

The Shadow:

"Welcome, Brothers, to the Court of Fallen Shadows. On this day, we are asked a question. Those known only as the Undead, have long been in conflict with these Mortals. We are asked of our actions, and what we should do. To open this meeting, there shall be our standings on this conflict."

The Engraved:

"I shall start."

The Shadow nods.

The Engraved:

"Recently, the Undead have been defeated at every turn."

The Watcher turns to the Engraved.

The Engraved:

"The Descendants retook the Dwarven capital from the Doomforges and their compatriots. And should this progress continue, this war will not last very much longer. Where will our actions stand now?"

The Shadow turns to Wilbury, "I believe you have such ideas to answer this question."

Wilbury:

"Thank you for the recognition." The bird tweeted, turning towards the Shadow. "The Undead are smart. They are vicious. They went from having absolutely nothing to paving the way for an empire to be built again. It'd be a fools errand to underestimate them. I think we should take advantage of this opportunity. We should perhaps, why not, try to possess one of these undead prophets? If we control them, we control the armies of Iblees."

The Watcher chuckles under his breath at this.

Wilbury:

"It is an idea. It will not be easy, of course, as I'm sure the undead prophets will have a resistance of some sort. But with the combined might of our kind, we could pull it off. I would like the thoughts of others on this suggestion."

The Shadow:

"And once we have control of their armies, if we do accomplish this task, how will we use such a force?"

The Watcher coughs slightly under his breath still chuckling as if he would wish to speak.

Wilbury:

"To any advantage we wish."

The Watcher:

"I have something to add if you wouldn't mind."

Wilbury would turn towards the Watcher, having noticed his chuckling figure for a while, "Please, interject."

The Shadow turns to the Watcher, "Go on."

The Watcher:

"I have spent some time against my better judgement with these undead and I was there when their Empire fell. I have been to their holdings and hide-aways and I have studied them. Trying to control a prophet or undead of Iblees would be like trying to control Iblees himself."

The Shadow looks interested in what information the Watcher may have, "Explain."

The Watcher:

"A feat which no spirit could survive."

Wilbury:

"If I may interject before my friend over here continues..."

The Shadow:

"Aye, you may."

Wilbury:

"When I was living I was close friends with Velkan Ironborn, so I have also studied them. That's all I wish to say."

The Watcher:

"If you, or any other in this room would attempt to take control of a minion of Iblees himself, your very soul would be torn apart and sent to the darkest regions of Iblees' hellish kingdom. They are nothing more than walking corpses sustained by Iblees' own will trying to control them would be like trying to control the Archdaemon himself and a foolhardy task."

Wilbury:

"Well then, what do you suggest doing? What do you suggest doing about these undead?"

The Watcher laughs this time out loud, "You seem to think that these Undead or defeated you claim these 'victories' against them while very few of Iblees' own minions have actually been killed or defeated. Only their lesser cultists have been killed and even then it is a fight that seems to never end. I have been there to their spire, a dark, tall, and terrible thing far in the northern wilds where there is a portal to the Nether /itself/. How do you suppose we fight against an enemy that can gain in numbers off of our every death?"

Wilbury:

"You make numerous mistakes. One, I asked you what your plan was. I already stated mine, and I have withdrawn it. Secondly..."

The Watcher stares at Wilbury, waiting.

Wilbury:

"You are telling me these things I already know. I know of that portal, I know of these things very well, the question is not to tell me about them, the question is what is your plan for them? And finally... This threat has been contained again. I may be new here, but I do not believe the council have taken any direct action against the undead before, what's the harm in trying it for once? I am finished."

The Shadow:

"Thank you, both for your input of this topic. But instead of debating it's feasibility, we must think of it's reactions to the world. We may be able to fight, and defend these foolish mortals, but once they know of us and our aid, what shall prevent them from seeking spirits out for petty wars? We are stronger than any mortal, and can defy their fears. If we are to act, we must with reason and unity."

The Engraved:

"I say we do not. For now, we shall leave the fates to their own bidding."

Wilbury:

"If I may interject..."

The Shadow nods, "You may."

Wilbury:

"When will we fight? Will it be if the undead have decided to consume the entire area like they've done before? Leaving nothing for us? I'm not saying we directly ally with the mortals. I am not saying we should indirectly help them with this. For this affects everyone, everywhere. There is no doubt in that. And it will eventually affect us. And we all know it. My suggestion is that we discuss how to aid them indirectly. I'm finished."

The Shadow:

"That is a good point, Wilbury. It will affect us eventually, regardless of the outcomes."

The Watcher:

"You seem to think there are only two options, fight or do nothing and die. You all have completely ignored a third possibility."

Wilbury:

"If I may interject... That is a complete and blatant misrepresentation of my argument. My argument is not fight or die, my argument is to do something, and possibly prevent another apocalypse from happening, or do nothing and abstain from all affairs having to do with this. But there is a third option. And that third option, in my opinion, would be the unknown. Perhaps infiltrate the undead somehow. I can not see any other viable third option."

The Shadow waits for the Watcher's answer before speaking.

The Watcher:

"No, there is a third option, and it is not the unknown as you have said. Our third option is to join Iblees and the undead themselves joining with their ranks and helping them take control of Athera."

Wilbury:

"Absolutely not. The forces of darkness are traitors. They have betrayed their own kind before. Once Iblees has completed his own goal... He will dispose of us."

The Shadow:

"Whether there be three options or an infinite number, we still remain undecided as to which side we are on. As two different kinds of our species, we do not agree on everything. But we can compromise. We may play a part in this war that can keep our kind safe, yet involved."

Wilbury:

"Why don't we play double side? Why don't the poltergeists aid the undead, and the spectres like myself aid the humans?"

The Shadow grins, "If we are to play both sides, then we must go to war with ourselves. That defeats the purpose of the court, unless there is a direct connection and motive for both to have in the end of matters.

Wilbury:

"Then what is your advised compromise?"

The Watcher:

"I say we move to a vote whether to join a side or stay neutral in the raging war."

The Engraved:

"I second this motion."

The Shadow:

"Your motion is seen, and there shall be a vote then."

Wilbury: I do not necessarily agree with this motion...

The Shadow: What concerns do you have, Wilbury?

Wilbury:

"I have the concern that we still vote to stay neutral and do absolutely nothing, then when it's too late, scramble to do something. I'd much rather fight for Iblees than do nothing, in all honesty."

The Watcher:

"If we then agree to join a side, we will vote on which to aid."

Wilbury:

"Then let us agree to join a side."

The Shadow:

"Then a vote is still in motion. Who wishes to join Iblees and defeat the mortal races, or fight with the mortals, ridding the world of Iblees."

The Shadow looks to the Engraved for his answer.

The Engraved:

"I am undecided."

Wilbury:

"I vote to aid the mortal races."

The Shadow:

"I am sorry, my Brother, but you must choose a side."

The Engraved:

"I move to aid the mortals."

The Shadow:

"For everything that the mortals have brought. Disease, war, and evil... They have killed thousands. And have brought our kind to this world in it's actions. They may use the light, and have forsaken some of our kind to it, they may pose as better allies, than that of a Daemon who steals the very souls of these mortals, making it possible that they can take ourselves as well. We should fight for neither side, but of the world we live in. We shall help the mortals, but not fight for them. We fight for ourselves, for our own kind. For our world in which we survive in."

Wilbury:

"So how will we be helping them?"

The Shadow:

"Show them our worth. These mortals are ignorant, infatuated with their own power. We show them what we are capable of, and see if they choose to comply."

The Engraved:

"What of the priests and clerics, seeking to exorcise us?"

The Shadow turns to the Engraved, "There shall be terms in which we fight with, preventing any such actions.

The Watcher:

"I know of more than a few who wish to find us banished from this realm. The Clerics of Aesterwald particularly have an interest in defeating us."

The Engraved:

"Our actions can be mistaken as hostile."

Wilbury:

"If I might suggest..."

The Shadow nods and looks to Wilbury.

Wilbury:

"They will not exorcise us if our intent is clear. They will not."

The Watcher:

"I am sorry my friends, but I have a confession to make."

The Shadow:

"Go on."

Wilbury:

"They take allies in this war against darkness."

The Shadow:

"They do, but what of this confession?"

The Watcher:

"I expected that you would comply with my motion to join Iblees in his endeavor and doing so I invited a few of his most trusted servants to this meeting."

The room starts to fill with dark smoke. The corridor is almost unable to be seen through. Two figures in dark robes appear, their faces are unable to be seen, but their presence feels almost unnatural.

The Shadow looks to the figures, and invites them into the room.

Undead #1:

"Our lord is happy to hear of your alignment." He begins, as he takes a couple steps forward.

Wilbury would immediately turn his head towards the servants. He would materialize into his human form and would cast a daring glaze towards them, "You fool, why did you invite these pests to this place?"

Throdo glares at Wilbury.

Undead #1:
"Pests?"

Wilbury:

"I do not remember anywhere in this meeting where an alignment with Iblees was mentioned."

The Shadow:

"Calm yourselves, we are all civil beings. I am sure we may resolve what is currently happening."

The Watcher looks to the figures nervously, "You see... They did not agree with the proposal to join Iblees' fight against the mortals."

Undead #2:

"Hmm."

Wilbury:

"In fact, we plan on aiding the mortals."

Undead #1:

"Ah, you do?" He says lightly. A dark smog appears by his right hand, a staff appearing in it's way.

The Shadow:

"We were unaware of your visit to the court, and I am sure there will be no violence in this room."

Undead #1:

"Violence?" He asks lightly, with a bit of a chuckle. "No, I don't see need of it either."

As Undead #1 says this, a dark mist comes from the head of the staff, slowly hitting the floor. Filling the room.

The Shadow looks to the dark mist and back to the undead, unamused, "The purpose?"

Undead #1:

"Persuasion." He says solemnly.

As Undead #1 states this, a sharp lightning shock is launched into the mist, affecting all in it.

The Engraved begins to stand up slowly, growling at the display of magic in pain. He would swing an arm down, causing the brick ceiling above the undead to shake, and fall.

The Shadow's face strains in pain, and through gritted words he says, "You want us to c..comply by this?"

As the bricks fall, they slam against the pair's heads, causing damage to their skulls. Yet they stand strong, and tall.

The Shadow gives a deep, demonic roar of rage as the lightning continues.

The Watcher:

"Is this necessary? I am sure that we'll agree if you explain to give them the advantages to joining the Dark Lord."

Undead #1 discontinued the lightning, "Do you wish to speak civilly?"

The Engraved states,

"Collapse the room."

The Shadow eases, giving a glance to the Engraved before answering, "The real question is, do you?"

Undead #1 holds up his two skeletal hands, holding his two index fingers up, "Consider this moment, both hands, are controlled by our lord." He moves the fingers apart, "But both are separate." He bounces his right hand a little, "Destruction." He bounces his left hand a little, "Corruption." He returns the hands to his side. "Unfortunately, I am part of destruction so a bit of... Well... Hark will happen now and then." He says shrugging. "Now, shall we speak civily?"

The mist would appear to be almost completely gone.

Undead #1 clears his throat, "Well?"

The Shadow:

"What advantages do you present to the court?"

Wilbury:

"And how can we trust you?"

Undead #1:

"Trust? Advantages? You seem to want more from us, than you to us. Think for a moment. How does a spider have advantages from where their web lays?"

Wilbury:

"Enough with the mind tricks. You are setting up a smoke screen for the inevitable, you will use us and you will dispose of us after you're done."

There appears to be no further text, but if one were to find the original document, it would be noted that the catacombs beside the Necromancer's Tower has collapsed in on itself.

OOC:

Join here: https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/117686-the-court-of-fallen-shadows/

No Metagamers please, you will be reported.

((My apologies for such a late response, I have been quite preoccupied.))

9/10

I used to have a pet like that.

I need robes that are proper for a Mali'aheral mage. Preferably fancy and white, perhaps something resembling Thranduil's? I'm not sure... I would be able to pay, about 250 Minas or so.

I'm lacking in creativity tonight, otherwise I would have made it myself.

[ MC Name: Akiriza ]

Wut be yer name: "Mah name es Ryall."

Where do ya live: "Currentleh 'Eiben'all."

Wut be yer primary skills:

"Ah got mah magicks, and mah axe, Ah also sometoimes forge t'ings from ferrum, an' tinker, creatin' new inventions o' mah own!"

Short biography about yourself :

Ryall is 132 years old, he has trained himself in multiple variations of void magic. He's a friendly person, but does not appreciate it when his family is insulted. He's made many friends on his travels through this world, and has even received a gift from a Grandaxe Elder as a sign of appreciation of his actions. He has assisted in both the defense of the city of Kal'agnar during both it's siege and take-back, and has proved to be quite a capable warrior and mage.

How de ya be related to te Irongut Clan:

"Ah'm the Son o' Thordon, Brother o' Hogarth an' Rekhi."

De ya swear loyalty to te Irongut Clan Lord:

"Aye, Ah dew."

OOC

Do you agree to follow all the rules of the Irongut Clan?:

Yes.

Skype name?:

galacticpotatoking