luv

finally! corcitura were made to be a sort of “stepping stone” into full blown vampire RP. it really needs SOMETHING more. in addition, i always preferred strigae over siliti - need more non-mage CAs.

so can fws go back to being sexy? since y’all are taking the “ugly witch” aesthetic? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

PLEASE 10/10 thank you agy 😭

@Zarsiesthey said you were gonna ruin mysticismmmmm 👀

-1 for changing the origin -1 for snubbing the og credits from dorian and i (reduced ME to FEEDBACK?!) +102 for transforming this bit of fw lore into something more interesting and engaging. back when i had the frostguard beneath eileen maps ago, it sucked not having any sort of goals or path for them to follow along outside of serving my witch. as you’re well aware, sat, i have always been reluctant about the return of jokullthral, because when it was first implemented i watched it quickly turn into romance roleplay or become another dark art to have in your collection. however, times have changed and with better writers fleshing out the concept i believe it’s going to be pretty good. this is cool~

eam excited! 🙈

for starters, golemancy is nowhere NEAR big enough to warrant taking it from a feat to a slotted magic. all of the other creation feats (sorvian sculpting, animii crafting, tawkin and atronach forging) have just as much involved with them, but are all feats due to them all being knowledge based OR only have one specific non-combat function. so, imo, you’d either have to add more to the magic or treat every other creation feat like this. i couldn’t agree more with disco. yes, the art of golemancy does originate from the dwarves, but has been widespread for far too long to really even consider it a “dwarven magic” anymore. this is an issue that could be fixed icly like when the golemancers in vailor hunted down all non-dwarven made golems and destroyed them/rewrote their cores. however, there aren’t even that many active ca golems - aaaaand without people to play golems, golemancy is just niche knowledge for a character to flex. i’d suggest that either golems get reworked or give golemancers some more to do (idk throw some runesmithing shit in there) -1

no f*cking way?! new aelesh lore dropped!? +10

some very much needed adjustments, tysm dio 🩵 +10, duh

Eriette sat at the table with her legs crossed and her interwoven hands rested in her lap. The floorboards creaked as the approaching hunchback moved awkwardly to her side and presented her with a parchment. She rose her left arm and extended her hand out to retrieve it, beginning to scan over the missive with narrowed eyes. “Go prepare my horse while I pack a few things…”

soooo, 3 slots? (2 bm + this?) looks pretty neat though :3

A black-robed woman with ivory skin and raven hair made her way through the very area where the final battle took place. Her presence was unsettling, a stark contrast to the devastation around her. The moonlight filtered through the shattered remnants of stained glass windows, casting eerie, fragmented patterns on the ground. Her dark robes seemed to absorb the light, creating an aura of shadow around her as she moved with an unsettling grace. She entered the stained chapel, the last vestige of sanctuary now fallen to ruin. Her fingers, pale and delicate, trailed along the sides of the splintered pews, feeling the deep grooves and scratches etched into the wood by desperate hands. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and blood, mingling with the faint, lingering aroma of incense, a reminder of prayers that went unanswered. As she walked, her voice began to rise in a soft, haunting melody. The song was ancient, its words lost to time but imbued with a sorrow and foreboding that transcended language. The notes echoed off the crumbling walls, filling the hollow space with an eerie resonance that sent shivers down the spine. Her song seemed to stir the very air, causing the remnants of the battle to shift and clatter as if in response to her lament. Each step she took was deliberate, reverent, as though she walked upon hallowed ground. Her eyes, dark blue and penetrating, took in the scene with a mixture of sadness and something darker, a satisfaction that hinted at a deeper purpose. Outside the chapel, the wind began to howl, a mournful wail that seemed to carry the voices of the dead. The trees, twisted and gnarled, swayed in a macabre dance, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The fog thickened, rolling in waves across the ground, obscuring the path ahead and creating an otherworldly landscape where shadows seemed to move with a life of their own. As her song continued, the temperature dropped, and a chill permeated the air. Frost began to creep along the edges of the pews, climbing up the walls and encasing the carpet in a crystalline sheen. The once sacred space now felt like the heart of an icy tomb, a place where the living dared not tread. Her voice, now rising in a mournful crescendo, seemed to draw the very essence of despair from the surroundings, amplifying it until it was almost palpable. The darkness deepened, the shadows growing longer and more oppressive, as if responding to her call. There was a power in her song, an ancient magic that awakened the spirits of the fallen, their restless souls stirred by her mournful lament. The black-robed woman paused before the end of the isle, her song fading into the silence. She raised her hands, and for a moment, the world held its breath. Her presence here was no mere accident; it was a harbinger of things to come, a dark omen that this place, once a battlefield, was now consecrated to something far more sinister. Her fingers, still lingering on the wood, seemed to draw strength from the ancient structure, connecting her to the past and the malevolent force that now claimed dominion over these haunted ruins. In the distance, a lone wolf howled, its cry cutting through the stillness and echoing the sorrow and foreboding that hung heavy in the air. The woman’s eyes gleamed with an unsettling blue light as she turned and walked back into the shadows, the Prince’s mission complete. The chapel stood silent once more, but the memory of her presence lingered, a chilling reminder that the darkness had only just begun to spread.