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Callistus

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About Callistus

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    Begone, foul beast!

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  1. but please, have mercy. In all honesty I do not think astral concepts deserve to be shoehorned into an applied lore magick. The idea of this niche is that it is by form and nature an unexplored and vague magick spoken of and described only to superficial lengths, while being otherwise torn entirely from pre-established facts and lore enforced descriptions. The void is there already to satisfy the venue of sorcerous spells and teasing power from unseen chasms, so why appropriate another perfectly abstract concept meant strictly to countervail the void? I just don’t see the point. I too once thought of writing on astral lores, but rightly came to the conclusion that the venue is better left well alone. It thrives thus far as an obscure realm withdrawn in entirety from all the glimmering elements we see casually deriving from the void. Just my honest thoughts.
  2. What horror! Through long discourse among colleagues and tedious work within the parchments my eyes once lengthily laid upon, I have come to unravel a thing of mystery that I waited long (surely for years) to uncover, if not for a time so inconceivably long that I perhaps could no longer count it in my mind, a husk of a mind which dances now on the very brink. But the fact that I had been so long at work on these accursed matters rouses not only doubt, but much fear in my heart for the fact that I cannot bear to see my work regarded with even an ounce of undeserved cynicism, doubtless as the so proclaimed enlightened scholars of Oren will come to treat it - they do, after all, claim to refute anything which denies their own dull conceptions of logic and simple reason. And nevertheless, I here blindly place my trust on God eternal that it will not find anguish at the hands - or more accurately minds - of simpletons who should willingly twist its words to serve a meaning they themselves wish to falsely tease of this grand truth, and that instead it should afford a prosperous material to wiser minds of this land, who shall certainly come later to piece of it a revelation greatly contributive to the tide of advancing humanity, and at large all those of true descendancy among elves, dwarves and orks, with whose existence I came lately to reconcile (largely on account of their recent progressions on wider fields of sciences and astrology). I. A FLEXURE IN THE MORTAL PLANE A COSMIC OBSERVATION WITHDRAWN FROM THE FORBIDDEN “VOID” I have as of late begun to question the very integrity of this frail mortal plane in which the habitation we have come now to take for granted, and reciting this question in quiet mind I took immediately to venturing upon books and studies that related in some part or another to the basal bindings of our existence, or the laws thereof. It did not take me much time to begin learning that few ever truly posed this question, less so in a manner that appeared fearless of public opinion or criticism from the narrow-minded faithfuls to the Canon. On such revelation I took it over myself to begin delving and linking strewn pieces hither and thither that may - even potentially - open forth an avenue of sciences or knowledges presently unbeknownst to Man. And it is ever the flaw of us people, who are either so drowned in curiosity as to risk themselves the death of a curious feline, or elseways short-sighted and unable to pose an imperative question that absorbs us whole as a sentient and inquisitive populace. I loathe myself to be among this foolish flock, avoiding at large all topics on which the human collective abstained to write and seek. This plenteous time I spent studying various fronts of the forbidden sciences (keeping in mind that I avoided in entirety all subjects that linked to the void, for what I sought is much greater than that) that I came upon these scripts which vaguely drew my interests. They told, in no particular order, of separate incidents and happenings that although did not directly relate to the void, denoted another, and perhaps more sacred and unknown force to be at play. Thus I began to seek out their authors, and sent letters in attempts of communion, only to later on my attempts realize that these scripts were attributed to false - or unregistered - names, surely in their fear of being sought out by the church and prosecuted for heresy, or blasphemy as the priests are wont to accuse those who breach - or contradict - matters that are not for the common folk to know. I therefore rode the initiative to recompile their scripts and the mutuality among their lines, and attempted with no regard for perfidy to reconstruct the rites and experiments superficially noted in these scripts, but met again as I much suspected with tragedy after failure. I was nearly ready to forgo my pursuit until, at random, this revelation roused me from my apathy and led me to link this final ring to a chain that will bring first advent to a possibly new science, or concept altogether rid of this terrible old void. This piece, as I linked it, revealed to me a glimpse of long forgotten dread, a glimpse of a cosmic truth, to things that this ink, or even our feeble minds could ever hope to describe, things that we once mistook in the skies for suns and stars. It drives me mad now as I think of it, and brings me such pain as I try merely to imagine it, but perhaps we as mankind are afforded a great mercy - if we would truly see the skies, the endless firmaments, then what become of the aenguls, what hope is there for God himself? We are led to coin these things to avoid questioning our frightful position, questioning what is truly among us in the nearer planes, but I suspect this should not stand for long. I admit to have stared deep (indeed, deeper than I could ever devour) and the so-thought stars stared back, that I can almost sense them rushing, even nearing, perhaps burning. Could it be a mere curiosity? I know not of what will befall us, but I know that we haven’t long; that we, after all, pose little more than a transient thought to beings that pose entire dimensions in their own respect. We are, I learnt, no better than the dead.. and why, we ought to be. We cannot in truth see as far as we thought. Have we even a mere chance? [To Be Resumed]
  3. A scorned and outcast Ruberni heard of the dispute that now festers among Kaedrin and the tyrants of Haense, deigning to mock this incident with great impunity (for he settles presently at foreign land). “Did I not tell you, Sullivan? Observe! See for yourself the very fabric of degenerates who insolently scorn an act of kindness in this ludicrous facade of 'scruples' and morality. And no small wonder! The earth itself vow against this pretense, this fickle falsehood of theirs.” . . . “They are fiends, the devil’s very henchmen. Now I am sure of it.”
  4. Does this mean that beyond its first ingestion, this concotion may never be imbibed a second time? If not, I am personally dubious of strength sources that are exempt from true consequence, like a PK on death clause, without which there is a lot left to be desired. Nobody wants to face a practically immortal (thanks to monks) individual with power to indefinitely consume a potion that heightens strength twofold.
  5. Callistus

    Callistus

  6. A scholar of distant lands could not help but to proudly acclaim this distinguished work among his peers, far and bygone as his lands were from the noble fields of astrology and such scholarly lores. The old sayings rang true; Knowledge truly found its demise in the rotting barrow of Arcas, a corpse of a land, save within God’s chosen. ((I had not chanced upon as good a read - in both academic and literary appeal – as what reads here for perhaps the greater part of my stay in this server. I commend you. If you wish potentially to discuss further joint work, I am present on Discord at Callistus#6280))
  7. I apologize for the confusion around the subject of blood in the initial werbeast submission, but vargr are in fact entirely deprived of genus and will no doubt prove any cuisinière a much unsavory meal given their dissocation to holy substance and the sheer flawed prospect of their existence (they are, after all, living failures).
  8. Callistus

    Callistus

  9. Disclaimer: Accounts written here and in former records are not common knowledge Found originally in Ponce, recovered to a group of scholarly antiquarians Whereabouts unknown, 1643 Wrych’e verz, c. 1439 It is no mere fallacy that the truths conveyed upon this strange being’s presence defy much of the logic presently imparted to Man — and no weaker truth that they related heavily to ignoble sacraments and heinous old devilry, born in the foulest chambers of a devil who lies now entombed in penance for carnal sin. It is in such light and ignorant blight that I set henceforth to bare the fangs of darkness my neck and publish this recital in risk of bleeding dry my feeble soul. It all began in old and paltry Istria, whence this person of ***** antics had his first reported sighting, dancing at first to the tune of a fading bonfire and its crackles of singed bone. When asked of his well-being and intent (for he truly appeared mad in this instance, though not at all madder than shall be detailed further on), the madman scoffed and said; “Fire, and weeping cinder; look how it flames the flesh so tender!” And under further pressure, and greater inquisitiveness, and after holding a hand out to the fire, he bridled and howled resentingly, saying “Let them all in madness cry God’s name, when God is nameless, and wallows in shame!” He here spoke, we conclude, of the “misguided” Canon chapel, whom he had accused unscrupulously and numerously of heathenry, deception, wickedness and desertion in accused abandonment of God’s righteous path. It could not be helped to note this man’s quaint retardancy to fire, which had not etched upon his bare hand even the faintest of burns; and that surely, if it were truly so, this man, if not an abled and conspiring madman, is a mere devil in the fell of Man. Probing deeper thereon (for there were no further written accounts in this particulate incident), another curious sight was later reported upon a pale moonlit night, where, in the shadowy depths afore a rotten woodshed, there stood a monument of hewn oak, so well defined and finely detailed that the fact it had been so suddenly built aroused a great suspicion into our minds of it its origin and ingenuity, and even questioned deep into the limits of common logic, and Man’s basal knowledge of things; for we sure knew with great certainty that no man or novice devil could have erected a thing so worthy of praise in the span of a single day, before which it had not been even slightly present, nor was the oak through which it entirely apparated. This statue, in the shape of some humanoid, depicted anything but, and rather seemed to describe an ungodly figure, a thing so damned and yet saintly that one might simply regard it a fanatic’s impression of a God. For when we speak of its eyes, it bore not two, but six eyeballs, winding across the thing’s temple and the shorn parts of its head, designating perhaps a degree of higher wisdom. It had no hair, no scalp, and why would it? It’s head in fact appeared carved out at the crest that its brain stood in the nude, differing in large from the conventional anatomy of Man’s god-made image, and resembling instead a rabid cultist’s notion of perfected divine existence. Not more could be surmised from the image, however, and not from a lack of interest, but solely for the fact that as soon as our eyes had wandered, it (the sculpture) disappeared no less swiftly than it had come, leaving our inquisition wildly crazed. We desired to carry ourselves farther in inquiry after the tracks of this unnatural being, who much resembled us in shape and form, and at times even speech, but of whom the nature and mere belonging to Man’s progeny we still greatly doubt and put into severe question. The rest of the excerpted text appears largely illegible, consisting of redacted texts long worn to the curse of all aged antiquity. Older accounts (Vargr folklore)
  10. “A wretched hamlet.. abandoned, all but forgotten. See you the things that clamber on its roads? Yes, yes- you thought right. . . A hearth now only to the damned.” said a man who knew very well the corners, dim monuments, and pale memorials of the riverside province.
  11. “A slave to the painting, and an ink for mortal kindling. Ooh, ooh! A canvas named death, that pale thing, to snuff the very life away! You need only shred your blood now, and appease this gentle painting. What a sweetly wilting maiden to ponder on!” A much quaint being lying in the back deigned to whisper on the imp’s precedent
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