𝙻𝚞𝚟 XO

Welcome back!

first xddddd yes, slay, boots the haus down gaga! but, honestly i support any little material additions to magic schools - ESPECIALLY, the void. you always do these really well, imo. +10

so, essentially just blue fire but for water evocation?

removing spiking is great, i always thought that was a terrible addition to the lore and something like golemancy doesn’t need ig-moderation things like that. hopefully this revives the magic, i know it’s supposed to be a dwarven based magic, but with that runs into similar issue that shamanism did. some questions thought… do the people being grandfathered have golemancy/ever were golemancers? is it going to be on dwarven characters? is the intent of grandfathering these people to expand the magic into different communities, if so, which ones? just some stuff i’m curious about as a many time former golemancer.

just getting into atronach forging, but i always support expanding the artifcery feats. +1

as the OG corcitura girlie, i welcome any fleshing out of this feat/creature. plus, i’ll always and forever be a Zarsies x Mordu collaboration fangirl, sooo- +5

wow, the lore writing diversity and unique concepts, from you? we luv to see it! +1

staph ittttt!!!! you play tew meeeeeech o3o

The small ‘ker girl, wrapped in a poncho of black and grey scraps, would blow a collection of her bangs out of her face before shifting her wry, faded-crimson eyes to her ebon feline companion who rested on the log beside her. “Seems rather obtuse on their end. Birds of a feather, flock together.” she’d exhale through her nostrils and roll her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “Usually, the Uruks aren’t known for their ridiculous political drama. Just ‘klomp’ and move on. Believe it or not, I’m finding it hard to contain my laughter.” The cat didn’t waken from its snooze, which triggered another huff from the little Shaman. She’d crumple up the missive with both of her hands before tossing it into the still surfaced pond before her, the reflection of the moon becoming warped.

yes

An enchanting white-stone estate sits in solitude high up on a cliffside, High Elven architecture is evident, upon first glance of the costly estate. Vines and foliage run up and down the sides and curl around the railing of the front porch and grandiose balcony which overlooks the sea with its methodically crashing waves. A single platinum blonde haired elfess walks through the foyer in a barely peach dyed, shoulderless, tulle dress which comes down just above her ankles. She meanders barefoot through the halls, a bottle of exotic wine in her right hand. Her hair falls carelessly, beachy, waves down her back and flows with weight with each swaying step she took. Dainty pieces of silver jewelry, a collection of necklaces primarily, sparkled each time the sunlight broke through the windowpanes and landed upon them. She’d raise her free hand, well-pampered still, up to drag some of her manicured digits against the lavishly papered wall on her left. Her eyes drifted about her surroundings as a somber expression took over her features, bags hung beneath her eyes like another accessory. Overhead, a trio of pygmy dragons black, green, and copper, flew by. They’d nip and lurch at one another as they played with no acknowledgement of the elfess; and she didn’t bat an eye at them either. She progressed into a large dining room, the silverware and other place settings sat seemingly untouched and collecting dust for quite some time. Two larger chairs were at either end of the table and as she approached the one closest to her she’d then bring her fingers to trace the crushed velvet cushion. A shudder ran through her body and she calmed her nerves with a harty swig from the bottle she toted around. “I always hated the way these came out…” she’d snark to herself, her eyes landing upon a dark wooden hutch filled with the fine dishes and cutlery. “You never would’ve let me host any guests, so I guess those are the biggest ruse in this whole place.” She’d take another swig followed by a crunched of her face, it tasted horrible, but she’d run out of everything she liked long, long, ago. Memories swirled through her mind of her aunt, Illidar, an alcoholic by definition. The two of them sat in front of a campfire as she listened to the war stories of her mother and aunt. Illidar drank to numb the pain she learned, because as much as they tried, they could never forget. The tenebrous tortured them all in different ways. Her mother became a psychotic doll of Adorellan, her aunt became tortured with nightmares that made her relive her darkest days, and she herself would’ve fallen somewhere in the middle of their footsteps if not freed. She believed it might’ve been fate that she befell similar boons as her ancestors, and always wondered, if she’d never left the desert, what would’ve become of her? A slave to a Dark Shaman wasn’t glitz and glam, but he treated her more like a trophy than a possession. He saved her from the same fate that befell her aunt that night, and a part of her would always be grateful for that. Another part of her would always feel responsible for what happened to Illidar. After her father pulled her from the burned ruins of the desert compound, they ventured off to Haelun’or. She remembers the first time she’d ever laid eyes on it - the royal blues and stark white columns. He went on and on about her birthright, Uthiress to the Silver City, but her father came and went just as quick as his titles. Alone at the doorstep of another foreign place full of foreign people and an even more foreign culture, she ventured into the next chapter of chaos. “I remember being celebrated for my beauty and fiery personality, but they shamed you for seeing me as more than an idol.” Glimpses of a hundred letters flashed through her mind, all to her twin sister, who went off with Leniel when they parted ways. A hundred letters handwritten with the finest parchment and the most expensive ink. A hundred letters, but not a single response. Her eyes welled up and a finger rose to prevent any falling tears. She may be alone here, physically, but nothing could compare to the loneliness she felt those days. Keledan was the shining sun after the hurricane to her. When he arrived in her life it was loud and soul-shaking, anxiety inducing at times, but he had her hooked from the start. It was magnetic, or so she’d thought. One of the little dragons, the black scaled one, landed on the back of the chair she stood beside and chirped to her - breaking her from the trance momentarily. She smiled sheepishly to the creature, running a curved digit down the back of its head. She moved out of the dining room and into an off section of the home. The addition was intensely lit with large, beautifully done, stained glass windows and the room was littered with art supplies. Easels with countless unfinished paintings, two body forms with scrapes of draping fabric pinned to the bodice, and a black iron stand with brown stained music sheets rested before a dust covered guitar which rested against the wall. Her eyes briefly danced between each corner of the room, a sigh escaping her lips as she’d noticed a wilting plant - it’s brown, shriveled leaves, turning to dust over time and lack of watering. She’d move to a white leather couch in the middle of the room, which faced the staircase which led up to the second floor. She’d rest herself at the edge, reaching for a half-smoked cigarette from the overflowing ashtray on the glass table before her. One of the dragons, the green-scaled one, landed onto the table with a ‘clink’ from his claws. She’d bring the butt to her lips and with a flick of her right ear, the end would ignite and a puff of thin smoke billowed upward. Inhaling slowly and blowing the smoke out, her eyes narrowed on the creature. “I know, I know, save it. Let me have this one thing.” The creature let out a huff, and so did she as her eyes rolled dramatically and she rose back to her feet. “I’ll go outside to smoke, how ironic.” The elfess dragged herself up the spiral staircase, sneaking another puff as she did so. At the top she’d reached the master bedroom which was disheveled; torn pillows and feathers littered the floor, the large mirror which hung as the backsplash to the bed was shattered to pieces from damage in multiple places, and the chandelier was turn down from the ceiling and dazzling crystals were everywhere. To the left was a double set of doors which were slightly ajar, leading to the balcony which looked over the sea, and that’s where she ended up. She leaned her body forward over the railing and her eyes peered down to the drop below. There were many nights where she had to talk herself off this ledge, tears and makeup running down her face, her mind filled with misery and madness. “Maybe one day, you’ll start slipping slowly… and find me again.”

reserved, teehee

I think this is pretty fuckin’ cool. I love Sylvian Alchemy, and really love this +1

i like it, yeah +1

wow xd