_Sug

-=oOo=- "For there to be true justice, eventually, there must be an execution. Unfortunately, these follied few have expedited their own..." Mused the Justicar of Azdromoth to those about as he sat upon his gilded throne deep within an underground keep somewhere. -=oOo=-

Farewell man. It's been a long ride, onto the next highway.

↬ Discord: Sug#4795 ↬ Skin Name(s): Green Aristocrat ↬ Bid(s): 16

Yeeesh...

Can the striga community get the CA back now?

Looks like the new map might be coming sooner than we thought!

Azdromoth?

It is time.

Aravir's brow raised as his little gnome companion waddled up to him and gave him the paper, after reading it, he obtained a small bout of confidence in the times to come. It seemed his mentor had much to teach the world, and not just himself.

Somewhere, within the halls of a rustic castle, a follower of Otton swept the floors with a hay-fashioned broom. A solemn tune rang through the halls as he dwelled all alone within his own thoughts.

The people have been asking for roadside taverns for 5 years.

The people have been asking for roadside taverns for 5 years....

Easy +1

♱ Cold Winds Cause Bodies to Swing ♱ “Without compassion, I am but a beast in the personification of man.” ♱ It was after the slaughter of two men, did a youthful elf find himself sitting below their swaying bodies whilst crimson drained into two buckets below. For he had strung them up to drain them of the wretched ichor which he so sought to obtain for his own greed. There they hung, cut at the heels as blood trickled forth into the iron casks which emitted the only sound audible in the area. The lesser vampyre, all alone sat staring forth at the disfigured faces which he defaced with his blade. A look of disgust remained on his visage as more and more did it fade. “This is what we are now. Foul, forlorn, forgotten.” ♱ His thoughts rang clear in his mind as he watched them swing by their hands and necks like puppets beneath the shade of a spruce. The wind carried with it a stench of death and the early processes of decomposition, like spoiled cheese getting worse and worse by the minute. Swing and sway did they, the most innocent of men. It was not innocence of action which Aravir, that lesser vampyre dwelled upon, but the savagery in which they sought not to die which in and of itself, was a pure action. “If you do not relish and feed, you will die a terrible and rotten death, slow, aggravating, rancid… It is them, or me. Me or them. I grow more and more selfish, desiring more…” ♱ Thus, a wooden chalice was dipped into the basket of the leftmost man who drained out into the bucket from his position in the tree above. The cup of a poor fellow, brought to the lips of but a young man, and a pause followed from the lips of Aravir as he drank. Vile. Repulsive. Rotten. All words which could be used to describe the state which Aravir found himself in, gulping like a savage beast to consume what he could. For, he had to spare what he could for his guide. The beast who brought him into the fold from his status as an anathema. “See… It is not so bad, for they are dead and their blood gives you life. It is not sinful, it is merely survival. Do not feel bad for yourself.” ♱ And so as time passed and the bodies slowly drained their ichor from their sliced heels, Aravir remained staring at the sight in acceptance. This is what he was now, for he had been offered a cure but did he truly desire it? Was his path to seek the Shore? Perhaps, it was to follow his new Lord and see where his path might lead… Nevertheless, the man stood and with him, the buckets of blood were taken off to feed the man who gave him a chance at redemption. A man, who the youth was loyal towards. Perhaps this was his fate, eternally or until his slaughter. Yet, he grew in sickness and relished in what he now was.

Classic rep farm move. Changes made by Qizu as per denied feedback, don't stack new ones please and put this in the ever eternal lore loop. Ty.

Sanguis in Silvis "Blood Within the Woods" ☩ “Alea iacta est.” ☩ That rotten night of nights, so shaded by the clouds cast overhead which allowed the moon above a sense of respite from illuminating the woodlands of the Elven Province. There lurked a lesser thing, beautiful in design yet not within the eyes of others. For they lead another into the wicked woods which loomed with a sense of dread, hunger dwelling like a hollow pit in a rotten stomach which grew and grew at the prospect of the sanguine nourishment which awaited the thing. Foul intentions of slaughter lingered within wretched consciousness as an innocent man was lured into false senses of security which lingered behind a veil of lies. It was then, a newfound friend turned towards the other and steel met the soft pillow of flesh which withheld the organs of another. The blade drove forth as it was pried with savagery across the torso region of the victim of a hunger so vile, it churned the stomach. Eviscerated was the stomach then, guts, bile, and blood spewed forth to fall upon the forest floor as innocent eyes gazed widely into the others which lacked the compassion once possessed within them. The sword began to stir, cutting and slicing the tissue of guts which once were organized, turned to mush as the victim fell to his knees. Two fangs met the shoulder of the innocent which cried out for mercy upon deaf ears, heard only by the animals of the forest which grazed and dwelled nearby. Within the dense brush did another, more beautiful thing look upon the vile display of slaughter wrought forth by a lesser more savage cretin upon the innocence of mankind. It was then, the third made itself known and the atmosphere which lingered turned all the more menacing. As he did, words were exchanged between all three as the most foul between Beast and Man brought the sword forth to the maw of the victim, sliding the steel blade between sets of teeth. The blade grinded at the enamel of the teeth which gave way and were pried from the gums which once latched them to the skull. Thus, it pushed through the spine at the back of the victim’s throat which in turn detached the brainstem of the innocent, rendering the beloved and newfound friend into a deep sleep, ever eternal. ☩ *Crunch* ☩ The Plaguerat’s longsword was twisted within the mouth of the now deceased, causing the skull of the fallen to split from the inside with a gush of brain, bone, and blood. It was then the third whom was evermore beautiful and deific, feasted in a more eloquent manner than the first cretin. The eyes, now separated from the departure of the left and right parts of the head which dangled by the shoulders of the man, held only by the integrity of the man’s neck, stared vacantly back at the direction of the Lesser Vampyre after the execution. Blood shared, and bonds born as hushed whispers were exchanged between two strangers bound by a commonality of cause. For in that moment, there was beauty in the slaughter of a defaced and eviscerated corpse. There was understanding. All was well, they would live on, nourished by the fallen of whom believed there were hopes for adventure, only for a story to close in the most gruesome of fashions. The first victim shared of many yet to come. Nourishment of the soul, stomach, and twisted mind whilst watching life escape from the oculars at the very moment a soul departed was enough for the lesser, for he had shown what he was prepared to do and served unknowingly already. The time had come for the fated pair, the knell tolled and rung as purpose and reform began anew, unknowingly shared over the husk of a soon to be rotten corpse.

Somewhere, a Nephilim blinks, setting off to speak with a certain dragon. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/GzrgTdLYhJQ

Simply. Incredible.