Jentos

Wyvernbone is as it is for balancing. We don't want ******* demi gods running around being like “b-but muh wyvernbone plate”, though a small (small) buff could be considered as to make it a valid option rather than wearing something heavier than steel with no bonuses.

Username: Jentos Screenshot: https://gyazo.com/8ee8cfcbc851bb5d5d44037afe8881ef How you got it: Through an event with Malgonious, after having defeated a creature with a number of other participants

One may claim the race of men to be dull. Yet their souls shine brighter than any other, and within their midst sprout seeds of strength and determination. They will accomplish more than any other, for they are closer friends to death than any, and death is a luxury that they can afford. Men, pageants of wrath. So **** for saying that disgusting ******* **** rift go back to grade school you ******* retarded liberated **** animal!!!!!!11!!

Sign Up McName: Jentos Discord:Jentos#6646 Talent: Some creative writing not sure if ill be able to attend just keep that in mind

A certain raevir nodded at the parchment, somewhat sad that he had not been invited to such festivities.

”Ave stellae.” Some disgusting raevir murmured, signing the cross on his person.

”The devil shits and you eat.” stated Janislav to the Duke

This was all, nothing less than a trial. Baneful chants. A choir of or horrors, nothing unlike burning children screaming in some broken flexio. And so, in the undying stairwell of Wieslaw’s mind, a star shattered. The man howled, the man screamed. The inbred bastard ran. On all fours he wailed and cursed, falling down, collapsing many times before regaining his footing. Only to fall again. Like some wounded, dying dog. Not a coin he owned. His clothes, his sword, were not his own. Why, he owned nothing, nothing at all. Yet that sullen, bewitched, soiled head of his was filled with gaping monstrosities, words and concepts of the likes none sane should keep. His flesh, his frame, was of little use to him now. What he needed was courage, what he needed was a truth that could not be found. A book that does not exist. And any man seeking such a thing, should they not be mad? That is a thing I cannot judge. But the state of this individual was quite logical, seeing where now he held his poor frame; amidst the stars. Murmurs had carried him, bleeding, broken. The Heavens had taken his offer. So there he layed, in some place that by any foreign means, cannot be described. A dead place. Grey, some desolate, silent place. A blasphemous place, some hell. Betwixt was flesh and matter, melded into some horrid landscape. And no, I lied. For while the heart, the very spirit of the place was silent, it was only screams that echoed back and forth. A choir of beastly, abhorrent faces, crying out to some heinously ghastly eldritch God. Their words haunting and revolting, some never-ending chant, a cry, a plea for clemency. They howled in abominable verses for the waking of some eerie entity with no end. What Wieslaw Barrow, child of the Crow, had found. Was a God’s grave. And now his voice was but one to that of the others. He had seen death, he had seen a sea of corpses fleeing a single bird of ash. But this was nothing alike any he had ever witnessed, wretched and foul, broken remainders of some lost hope, yet holy as ever, some terrifying relic to some archaic blessing of yore that was now but a great looming barrow of torturous figures and abominations, hailing forth the coming centuries of pain, years that would never die, presenting but an eternal time of scarring thoughts linked to the hopelessness of the calamitous situation. But Wielsaw knew, Wieslaw understood. What thing this was had died of thirst. And Gods thirst for the blood of men. Ave Stella.

A certain individual recalls having spotted the blood mage exploding Quavinir’s eyes. He must have been dreaming.

Feremyr only keeps shrieking, as his distorted frame is cast between realms, torn and ever-burning. He would find no peace.

Student application IGN: Jentos  RP Name: Wieslaw Discord: Jentos#6646 First Option: Religious Studies Second Option: History Third Option: Biology Fourth Option: Language To the Honourable Theodosian Academy. On this 11th day of this wintery month, I, Wieslaw pen this letter to this institution with the high hopes of being accepted within its flock. Through the years, my young self has delved deep into a number of subjects. Whether these be history, theology or even chemistry, I have known them. However, hard to find is the information, as I luck funding or resources to acquire proper tutoring, or even books. This has forced me to remain recluse, searching for my own answers. This hermitage and consequent pilgrimage that I have taken have led me on a series of wondrous discoveries on the nature and secrets that both the physical, and unseen world present to us. This information I would see confirmed by attending this institution. With this, I wish you good day, and GOD bless. -Wieslaw

where are my DARKSTALKERS

An unfortunate Hexer keeps screaming, his spirit shattered and broken; spiralling down in the hellish depths of the world, burning and twisting. A justified punishment.

I weep, have a good one my dude.