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About Callistus

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    "Let us cleanse this house of horrors."

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  1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nlgh6Rh0mPk A momentary spear of sunlight had pierced the clouds that quietly prevail over the province of Aegrothond, bringing an early end to the reign of darkness that once defied peace and vowed malice upon its war-torn border. While most opposition had faded, there was still fire that sunlight alone could not atone, and every last dissentious malflame in Aegrothond had coagulated in the fiends that endured the destructive siege. With this intrusion of sunlight came hope, and hope had given way to a short-lived peace for the mortal brethren. No true victor can claim might by inaction; reclamation over the remnant flame demanded an insurrection of mortals fit to snuff out the lingering malice of Yondo, once and for all. CREATURE NAME - OBJECTIVE The Cult of Yondo - Extermination LOCATION North of Aegrothond, by the old mountainous forge THREAT LEVEL Medium - Hard (Based on approach) REWARD Liberation of the Aegrothondic Woodland, and three-hundred minae for each living victor PROGRESSION SYSTEM (IF APPLICABLE) As corpses pile up, proliferation of the insect-like species is greatly expedited. However, methodical incremation (by holy fire) of both mortal and demonic cadaver will force the parasitic vermin into attrition. “As the Siege of Aegrothond neared to an end, a cult of sentient polymorphic fiends was diverged from the central horde and driven by splinter-forces into the local woodlands, where it now resides in total secrecy. This remnant of the incursion imposes a great threat on the welfare of the region, and negligence might risk an increase of their bestial presence to alarming rates, such that we fear what might become of the once-thriving woodland and its local people. We hereby enjoin upon any able men that are willing to take up arms and fend back against the expansive scourge to conclude the necessary preparations and carry an expeditionary force with due caution. The region might appear at first as an encampment for war refugees, but remain wary in your selective elimination of targets and keep an eye out for cautionary tales that might aid to tell apart hidden demons from real men. Once caught, and if not capably put down on the spot, the demons will revert to their viscous forms and lash out at any nearby men. In precautionary measure, we recommend the utilization of far-range weaponry in the initial phase of confrontation. If the beasts are not duly eliminated in their first secretive phase, there will ensue an increase in difficulty as the polymorphs revert in form; they will be entirely concealed in hard-wood - or other material that accommodates the environment - which acts as protective armor for the vulnerable flesh enclosed within. They will attack in hordes, and by way of rapid, elongated tongues that inflict, suffocate and stifle prey as though serpents. One must take care not to underestimate the range and influence of this projective strike, which acts akin to numbing poison that slowly corrodes at the flesh and burgeons throughout the circulatory system. Mortal victims might feel the urge to inflict others in the vicinity by way of physical contact, in which case it is preferable to either incapictate or extinguish the catalyst. This infectious force can be counteracted by antidotical or holy means, and in grave cases by an immediate amputation of the infected limb (This will prove redundant if the affected area is vital, as it kills the victim in the process). If encircled and pushed towards defeat, the fiends are capable of excreting shrill cries that serve to disconcert any nearby sentinels or stationary marksmen. This can be significantly repressed if prepared for, however the resonance will not fully dissipate. The only reliable method to eliminate this breed of Inferi is by driving any sharp weaponry into an eye-socket, defiling the brain-like umbilical flesh which resides therein. A narrow-tipped spear is conventional to this end. To ensure thorough elimination, the mush that embodies the fiend must be ripped out like gangrene and put to holy fire or consigned to an inaccessible gravesite, lest it be cannibalized and regurgitated by other fiends of a kindred species. No account presently exists on the number of remaining fiends, and it is recommended that the active parties keep record for later evaluative purposes.”
  2. An old vicar that had witnessed the foul poison of divergence slowly abscind mankind of its humanity and pit its once-prevalent sovereignty into decay could not exhort himself but to debate this matter among cohorts. For though he vowed by heart never again to intrude upon politics, grave age or great devotion alone could not urge this mere soul to turn the blind eye at the face of waning unity, growing devilry, and moral descent.
  3. An elder of the transient vicarage that had long since branched from the canon – but which remains at its root derivative of the faith – warily read from the missive, and in turn could not help but assent with its belief. Viedrick and the brethren with whom he had migrated in solemn duty found their presence necessary only at the face of growing apostasy and man-borne devilry, which infectuously spread alike rot to eat at the mind of Man in the name of preposterous reason. He thereby writes in response, and brands the missive not in his name, but in that of his people. ”In our books, we the Aemesh acknowledge the advent of reason and mortal rationale as the poisonous scourge that it is, and are thoroughly aware of its Godless consequence. The pillars of faith that we now witness corrode in our very land, and amongst our very own, ought to frighten any sane or holy man. It is in precis the sin of vanity that brings rise to arrogant reason, and incites the foolish man to believe himself greater; to laud himself upon a pretentious pedestal, to contend against God, or attempt to wrest the concept of Godhood from its historic cradle. It is this pattern of degeneracy that first exhorted us to wander from the warmth and sanctum of our homeland to yours, for our noble seeking to uproot degeneracy and quench the flame of heathenry does not in any measure differ from yours. I duly acclaim this stance from my position as God’s Vicar to the Aemeshite flock, and will say, as I did once before, that a meeting of our peoples must be had in good faith; idolatry amongst our kith has now truly seen its culmination.” ”Ae indel, Kastafir.” This he spoke in conclusion to the foreign disciple of the School, ensuring thereafter that the missive is rightly consigned for delivery. Prostate before the exalted altar in Johnstown chapel, the priest made obeisance and called upon divine guidance.
  4. A Vicar that presided over the chapel of old Johnstown, a village abandoned by beasts and men, ensured that no remnant or trace of the hideous symbol might prevail from the wrath of fire. The migratory hordes of Aemesh find the greatest of affront in blasphemy, for riverside Johnstown is no true home to the Godless among men.
  5. In all honesty, good roleplay stems from the mindsets involved and in my experience has ****-all to do with writing skill. Not to say that the latter has no effect on the advent of good roleplay, but it comes second to detachment from character and cannot perpetuate roleplay by its own merit. I have roleplayed with folks whose writing impressed on intuitive levels but which in the end could not impose anything significant on the progression of story or narrative. Likewise, I collided with people whose english was subpar at best but that I could thoroughly attest to be more capable and contributive than any psuedo-intellectual contingent on his or her writing to stay afloat, and not because their english “had style”, but their mindsets and attitude toward roleplay and conflictive encounters are withdrawn entirely from any underlying motives that inevitably covet OOC interest. Good roleplay derives from interactions mature enough to enable fruitious story progression, regardless of any superficial qualities to the text, because impressive writing loses all credence once it is appropriated to beautify some half-assed attempt at bullshitting death, or circumventing a well-played disconnection. This doesn't mean you are obliged to die or lose at every turn, but once good writing becomes an excuse to negate consequence when well-aware that the opposite side has an upper-hand, any true value to the interaction greatly declines from there. It should not be a stepping stone for doddering degenerates who cannot handle fictional loss to justify dodging simultaneous strikes like some protagonist from berserk. I used to be in the dark myself, and I know first-hand that quality alone cannot atone for poor mindsets, or suffice to create great stories which appease the participants and inspire respect. For good measure, perhaps try thinking encounters through from character – and not player – perspective, and stop worrying about oocly losing face. The most memorable occurences in this server almost always ensued after compromise.
  6. the convocation planned for tonight will take place same time tomorrow instead

  7. “A man beckoning too deep into the night must beware that the night itself is not beckoned.” - An excerpt of the Vicar’s latest sermon Johnstown, c. 1783 WE PEN UPON THIS HERE NOTICE A PROCLAMATION THE WHICH GRAVITY DEMANDS GREAT ATTENTION A war of brute strength so foolishly waged against the demonic incursion has brought, and continues to bring upon our herds naught but loss and bloodshed, that even now God’s rain mingles amongst flesh and death persists to defile the ranks of the living. One cannot deny without slighting reason itself that our cause to be crowned victors in battle is deprived of all hope without providence to intervene, and this is made all the more vain by the reality that the only path afforded to us is shepherded by, and reliant on the pretentious likes of Azdromoth and his unsightly flock of heathens. Likewise, one cannot rightly seek salvation from Korvassa’s flame, only to invoke the very lords of Fire and turn upon God’s name. Fools alone resort to the insult of faith by vowing to the stolen light and the Fire so usurped by accursed dragonkin. Thus, we of the Aemesh in condemnation of both beastly threats do hereby enjoin upon the faithful left among mankind to converge at the side of our clerics to the woods of Johnstown beneath the coming half-moon, that in unison we may ask of God’s mercy and invoke a miraculous end to this sickness and those who inflict it alike poison unto blood. Let us pray in the way of our forefathers. Let His Light provide us sanctum. Let the only righteous flame prevail, and kindle this curse-rotted earth.
  8. Reinstating the culture of Yulthar. If anybody wants to partake in oriental folkloric roleplay, get in touch with me.

    Let the Nippon feuds begin.


  9. “Fearlessly shall we brave the will of Yulthar. Their blood shields us. Prescience and strength we shall conjoin.” ... “The truce is broken. Our vigil pales. The beasts cannot be kept at bay.” Beneath the clouds that gathered high, silence reigned. Where demons once overturned the ashen earth of Yulthar, there now stood culminations of undivided battle; rotting piles sown through an endless war waging for years amongst fiend and man. Blood of the old and young alike drenched the streets, and so none remained to nourish the blood-starved beast. The flesh-ailed city was at last brought to its end, cleansed and bled thoroughly of all its mortal filth; for beneath the clouds that gathered high, silence reigned, and the all-absorbing darkness of the abyss settled to preserve the old corpse. Abandoned by its people, darkbound Yulthar was home now only to the dead. The Exiles of Yulthar Long after the incursion, there spread staggering tales of a migrant people who, through their perfidy of both mental poise and honor, verged into uncomposed madness and absconded duty as one of a lost cause. The oathless relics of the Yultharan conglomerate converged later into blood-diversive tribes who wander from part to part through foreign land hardly reminiscent of their own, yearning for the unquenchable demon-hunt which still eats at them from within. “Pity those wanderers seeking the incite of death. Minds shattered, souls trapped in that damned city. Make no peace with vagabonds, for they know no oath.” The exiles of Yulthar is the name coined upon Yultharan migratory clans which not long before the city’s downfall came to wander foreign parts of Aeldin, and lately Arcas. The call of the hunt always beckoned, but wary of the fate of their old land, they instead took to prying at other parts of the earth in search of the beast-blood’s thrill. Their broken devotion to the cause of ancestry did not cease to wrest their doubts and wavering fears from within, invigorating madness amid reluctance and bringing out the hideous nature of Yulthar to light. This lends credence to the foul repute of dementia gleaned by the wandering folk across most land. This beast-borne contortion or madness indented upon the mind of all survivors coaxes into them a frenzy most comparable to shell-shock, at times inciting the brash warriors to strike unwisely but in manners which forbade all prediction. This arbitrary pattern assimilated even into their discourse and initially denied the Yultharans any chance for negotiation with the local rulers, until word of their intensity in battle swiftly spread and gave testimony to the vigor of this fluctuant people in all but reason and predictability. Synopsis - Origin The origin of Yulthar dates as far back as to the first convergence sworn by two Eastern clans of elves and men, whose conformity and despair at the face of periodical feuds within the region led them to decide upon the consolidation of two peoples under one banner, giving form in finality to the Gods-accursed lodge of Yulthar and the tragedy that soon followed in a city now deserted by beast and man. Prior to contemporary times and not long after the congregation, the chosen region of Yulthar unwittingly pit unsightly beasts against the Oyashiman colonials in continuous battle which frothed for centuries without forespeakable end, instigating the basal root of their culture to revolve upon ruthless ways honor-bound by blood, and thereby mold into one orientated through the life-long hunt braved by all Yultharans until the offset of beasts inevitably induced the remaining denizens toward the brink of decay. Many faltered to madness while others outlived their demise, but even those who did continue to reveal demented signs of their unescapable belonging to the old city, which immortally claims over their lives and fate. Present When the aged warriors wandered without aim from land to land and incised their decisive mark across the continents, the erstwhile Duke of Kaedrin cultivated an interest in their quaint way and invoked the few remnants of the Lodge to shore, where they now toil silently in fulfilment of an unfinished duty. The tribe which convoked on the mainland was led by Kenjin Taishi and Tetsuo, both with origins that date back to an old fishing village whence Yulthar was an infested conjecture point for all manner of Yokai.
  10. A lone warrior salutes the departing Duke
  11. “By decree of the enshadowed, thou shall not be granted passage.” Far to the darklit reaches and hyperborean depths of a cold land abandoned by sunlight, impending evil awaited birth by sacrilege at the hand of an occult tribe abound old woods, accosted by defiant devil-flames cultivating even within the taigan frost. Nearer to the provenance of this sabbath, inaudible chantry could be heard below the earth, where hideous shrieks made clear by shifts in the wind deposed one clear phrase; The second child will soon be born.
  12. unfortunately the piece can only be as good as the general community behind it allows. the voidal people can’t even rightly use the tools at their disposal, so what makes you think hurling fuel to the fire makes it better?
  13. what’s with all the horned dark elves? 

    1. NozLSD


      I was wondering the same thing!

      Edited by Nozoa
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