_Leyd

We are working on an entire overhaul, which will take awhile no matter how many people we involve, if you've any questions feel free to DM me!

Somebody had to do it +1

An elven man’s jaw hung aloft, his breathing shook as his heart pulsed into his throat and his gut rolled over itself; there was silence, whispering, and finally- screaming, he dropped to his knees and drug his fingernails against the ground beneath, embedding wood grain up to his cuticles. His voice carried throughout the confines of his home, pouring into into the streets of the silver city; There on the ground, he would remain for hours, pleading to something, someone, to unsee this tragedy, to wake him from such terror.

A wretched hag hums in pride deliverance of her song; a twisted grin spun as a chortle summons in reverberation through those icy canyons which her throne lie.

“The children of GOD bargain the use of the forbidden? Believing any who know the Father to be capable of torment in the mind? Oh how they’ve fallen-“ The wretched Priestess turns, directing a tattered limb in direction of another. “Summon my Crows, we must observe this heresy and prepare to bring ABSOLUTION, weave ourselves into the herd, and swallow the swine from within its sty, free the people, repent.”

Holy formatting- this is all so good

I LOVE NAZTHERAK I LOVE DEMONS +1

Damn, and to think I once had some respect for you, crazy, shit take bud.

A self-proclaimed Empress rolls a thunderous laugh across those gelid lands, a gaze set yond to those so devoted with a grin lined with blackened daggers. "Now watch; as they scramble. Let us hunt!" The Nordling giant exclaims, lifting a sword of twisted ice high.

A tempest of darkness twisted around the northernmost continent of Almaris, a thunderous crackle emanating through the dismal sky and a dank chill settling in the air. Denizens of the land disappeared without a trace and gruesome beasts roamed the land, unwavering to the bitter cold and draped in a mantle of blood and onyx. As reports began to surface, a pattern arose, the beasts chanting blasphemous tales of an Empire, claiming that all within their presence were nothing more than trespassers. Snow drifts as tall as mountains, effigies strewn across the frozen tundra and the lands become barren with no solace for those under the malevolent spell. A dread missive was then delivered to all corners of Alamaris, one of dire warning. "Prayers were not enough to absolve the sins of man, those of faith were not spared, and the wickedness of sin now had full reign over the souls of men. Mercy was not to be found, for the wrath of God had been delivered, the wrath of The Empress. Weep, you usurpers, for the time of your stay has been fleeting and the blood of your flesh shall now flow freely. No forgiveness for those who reject the warning, and the spawn of the transgressor shall suffer until Her Majesty has had her fill."

[!] Within every non-abandoned foothold of those vile tundras, rotted effigies adorned with crosses and twig alike line the outer walls, black fabrics string from frozen oaks which flayed corpses hang at nigh impossible heights. And in its wake, a horrid sight is beheld; a flock of darkly garbed women, given the company of towering plate-clad who lifted scepters burning with a smokeless flame. With their very presence; the snow seemed to darken, abyssal in hue, like a mass of shadow that swept the north in the night, fleeing only when those burning ill omens had vanished from the sight of what few glanced upon them; leaving only a yellowed papyrus with a two-headed crow printed as insignia. [!] On the notice boards of every northern city and littering their streets, the following is scribed in scarlet ink. “Mercy- mercy, mercy, plea, son of man and malin, Flame and Godan- Know only a wretch may suffer, know only the relinquished shall be freed. Hear the crow caw from beneath the moon, the night is nearing, the dark prevails, a symptom of your sin, a blemish of your folly. Absolve thine selves, kneel until you rend flesh and vein against the earth, face Terra with cries of repentance, pray for absolution, or starve as the leper refusing his treatment. You have long since propped yourselves within HER domain, long since mocked HER winter, flee; and never return; know that with your short lives, leads the warning for those to come, never again will you step within HER Empire, lest you befall a war unseen since Westerlands was swallowed in darkness. Bleed the blood of beggars, or die the death of usurping tyrants; no man, no woman, no child, no elder is safe; for DOOM comes, and your chance to weep unto the Absent Father is soon to depart; leave HER lands, or face the atrocities of an unyielding curse, one to last even after the weak and the sinful have been made with earth and sea. The Mother watches, her crows stalk your every hall, she knows the faces you hold so dear, she knows your secrets you keep so near; depart from her EMPIRE, so that you may not suffer the harvest your blasphemy has sown.” [!] The Crow insignia is depicted, and beneath, the missive continues. “You have but a fleeting day, before we spread winter far more vicious than anything you’ve ever witnessed, before your crops are wilted and your cattle conjoin with the earth, pray, and only with the MERCY of GOD will you be spared this fate.”

A warlock casts praise to Leyd, oiling the blade arm usually attached to his body. "Through flesh and blood, we will prevail.. If only we maintain focus, give your champion strength, so that I may bring you glory over the vile and dark." Sage is lit, and hymns are hummed as he prepares his mind for the battles ahead.

I love crystal meth! I really hope that’s what this is for (very excited)

Hey! That's me!

A scroll is delivered in claimant of the longsword.

A warlock grumbles, the chains from his blade arm clanking as he shifts through the dark cave he called home. A champion of Leyd, an elder of Akaal, and a brother to the Rex, he sends his fist into a deposit of crystals growing front the cavern wall, slicing open the flesh of his hand, his one eye flicking around violently as he roars. “NUB- NUB MORE WAGH, ZHAK- Leyd warned us Borok.. da zhakah is blinded by da zpiridz, dey do nub kare to keep our people together, so wi will enslave dem as da zpridz haz..” The angry giant rumbles to himself or to someone who was supposedly there, though unseen.

A tired elder grumbles aloud; stuffing his jaw with a lump of wet tobacco before lumbering off to prepare for what laid before him.

A Goliath, exerting plumes of luminous mist sat between dancing shapes and spirals of strange golden material. “We warned them of his sin; does God’s forsaken finally heed our mandate?” Cast the giant over to an abomination. @Balmakka

It doesn’t make sense for a mage to manifest ice weaponry and somehow maintain focus enough to actually use it in a combat scenario. Further on; the pure factor of sharpening ice to the strength ferrum is something that would require immense amounts of focus and skill, this is why combative evocation is never perfect or pretty, it’s simply too hard to maintain the concentration required while in combat. I appreciate someone taking the time to write something for Hydromancy but I don’t believe this is the amendment it needs. Not to mention; it’s entirely similar to frost witch magic. Even having spells named the same. Again I appreciate the effort and I wish you the best.

You get a billion dollars, but you have to leave behind all your friends, family, hobbies and just about everything that you’re familiar with. You taking the money?

A pyre is lit, and a woman repents betwixt a mound of bones, all stripped of flesh beneath the moon, singing lowly; “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy..”

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“God be praised!” Cheers a hag.

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