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  1. Thank you for your input! Most of these were just oversights and I clarified all of them. With the dragon bones, that is a component in making Archliches from the old lore. Archliches are definitely supposed to be a more rare CA and should be difficult to achieve, at least relatively to other CAs. However, depending on the ST's stance on the matter I am willing to compromise to something less extreme; it's more so just meant to be a harder-to-obtain component, and not something I'm dead-set on. Also pardon my lack of eloquence; forum formatting literally takes my soul away from me.
  2. The Necromantic Simulacra Through fell arts which herald from the age of Aegis, the undead have stood as a vile testimony to what once was, brought about by the beckons of occult magic and necromantic incantation. Whilst a persistent spirit may choose to linger in the form of a phantom or fleeting specter, these dastardly products of necromancy are instead brought from death, often against their will, as spirits torn from whatever fate they lingered in, or simply denied the Soulstream altogether. Thus, they are forced to bear a coil, whether their own or perhaps another fashioned as some flesh-wrought amalgamation, bound to permanent desolation in a withering host. The Necrotic Plight Undead have no ability to sleep, breathe, burn, etc. With no blood they cannot be poisoned or used as a source of genus and, additionally, feel no pain — or anything physical for that matter. Sunlight and holy magic will bring great physical pain to these otherwise unfeeling foes, with sunlight offering a burning sensation to covered undead which gradually turns from a benign tingling to a feeling of total immolation within a few minutes of exposure. Fire acts like sunlight to most undead, though they may persevere to some extent depending on the endurance of their particular subtype (i.e. a darkstalker is more resilient to this than a draugar). This aversion to flame is present no matter its quantity, from a meager torch shoved before the creature, to a grandiose pyre seeking to reduce them to ash. Aurum is no more effective than regular weaponry on corporeal undead, save for Draugar and Archliches, who experience a heightened degree of pain from the material if in its proximity. Destroying or otherwise smashing the skull of an undead will always ‘kill’ it. All undead creatures, bar those under the ‘Cadaverous’ subtype, require an accepted CA to play. The Infallible Curse Those afflicted with the Infallible Curse — whether of their own accord or against their will — are forever bound to walk the realm. When the undying are disposed of, their restless spirit lingers in the world, unable to find peace beyond in the soulstream or the certainty of the Ebritaes. Doomed to the fate of the mortal plane, their spirit toils for days before it finds a new host to inhabit. After this time has passed, the residual energy of the slain undead is bound once again to some random corpse, the soul forcing upon it the burdens of the body the undead once had. Even for those who willingly succumb to the fate of the Infallible Curse, it exists as a hellish purgatory for the damned dead, as one may find undeath is not so easily escaped. The undead can never be truly slain. That said, hard PK rules such as suicide still apply. Following thirty OOC minutes after being slain, an undead’s body will reconstruct itself. Upon awakening, the undead will feel numb and disillusioned to reality, unable to recount the events leading up to their death just as anyone revived by the monks. This process does not require the assistance of a necromancer. The body is simply rebuilt, the undead simply awakening with their ‘new’ body at their soulstone pillar or CT, though narratively they would simply have woken up somewhere else, presumably in the wilds. The Cadaverous Bearing no semblance of consciousness, these mindless undead are driven by primal disposition, kindled by lifeforce, and bound entirely to the necromancer who bound them. Whether immediately conjured amidst the fevered pitch of battle, or meticulously embalmed beforehand, these creatures serve as meager omens of the true powers of undeath. Cadaverous undead take many forms, from zombified horrors, to skeletal pawns, to the grotesque shamblings of animals raised from the dead. The Draugar Rekindled are the flames of the once called ‘voidal-lich’, the lesser of its Rh’Thorean counterpart. Aptly named are these once dead Draugars, a coy play on the word ‘Dragur’, collectors of both knowledge and wisdom. They are mummified corpses which are risen to act as the mages of the coven, swept into servitude by no fault of their own. Capable of practicing voidal magic along with some dark arts, these wretched undead bear a heavy burden that no mortal should bear — their soul forever trapped within a phylactery, held to the whim of whichever cruel necromantic master holds it within their vice. The Phylactery Phylacteries, the very stores of souls perpetuated by undeath, are formed in one of two ways. The first method entails the necromancers presenting or crafting a suitable reservoir, such as a large urn, a chest, sarcophagus, etc. The only caveat is that the container chosen must be composed primarily of aurum, so as to allow the binding of the to-be-Draugar’s soul. The container must then be primed via three units of lifeforce, either drained from living sacrifices, or given by the necromancers involved. Alternatively, necromancers may perform a Rite of Coagulation to create a lifegem, albeit here they may be molded particularly in the form of blown glass, jade, crystal, or any other ‘gemstone’ curated to fit the massive reserves of lifeforce, before pouring it into the chosen cask, where it is allowed to settle prior to the ritual. The universal factor of these relics is that they bear a subtle, glassy quality to them, thus making gems among the most fitting. All phylacteries must be at least one cubic meter large to harbor the required lifeforce, unable to be put in chests. This means that all Draugar phylacteries are built in game, and must be represented appropriately. Phylacteries are brittle, even with those composed of gold taking only a slight battering to collapse, and thus release the soul with it. All phylacteries share the same brittleness regardless of their former durability, able to take no more than four heavy hits from a sword before shattering, and only a mere two from something like a warhammer or mace. Should a phylactery be completely destroyed, it would destroy the Draugar it houses, causing their soul to be released; this requires the assailant to fully destroy the phylactery, not merely bruise it. Phylacteries house the soul of a Draugar. Should the phylactery ever shatter, the soul is forever lost to the Ebrietaes and the character will be effectively PK’d. Phylacteries are either lifegems, or aurum constructs such as a massive urn or chest. Aurum phylacteries must be composed of mostly gold, but may have details and materials in its composition. All phylacteries, no matter their make, are as brittle as stone. Dropping it from a median height, hitting it four times with a sword, or twice with a heavy weapon, would shatter it. Phylacteries must be at least a cubic meter in total size, capping at three cubic meters maximum. For this reason, phylacteries are unable to be hidden within chests. Phylacteries must have a physical build and be marked by an ST sign. Due to the size of phylacteries, two players are needed to move or haul the thing, with only creatures such as ologs and large constructs able to do it on their own. Phylacteries must be placed in mechanically accessible areas. They may not be voidal pocketed, or placed in collapsed caves or sealed-off and thus inaccessible tombs. Physical Description Trapped within a limbo between life and death, the faux-undead Draugar is attributed its odd disposition due to the soul being kept outside of the corpse. Draugar appearances range from one another, though one unifying trait is they hold some semblance of life. They appear often as they did while living, yet with horrid aberrations such as fetid flesh, or ravaged skin that has been torn apart. Whether a mummified body or a rotting corpse, wrinkled and treated skin clings to the frame of every draugar as a mark of their imperfection, their complexion the pallid image of rigor mortis. Even if all flesh is burned off or flayed, upon reforming from death, they will be born anew with skin forged by their phylactery. Acting as a patchwork, the flesh would stitch and mend itself about the horrid cadaver in most vital areas, notably the head and torso. Though it needn’t cover the entire body, the flesh of the dead mage is always there to some degree, with some sorcerers donning the flayed skin of their enemies, or using the aid of necromantic fleshsmithing to alter their appearance. Clear undeath sits within their eyes, or a lack thereof, with some harboring a misty and endless gaze, while others deal with insects boring through their skull; these undead are ghoulish in image, clearly identifiable if not by their looks, by their reeking stench of molding flesh. Cast out from society due to their lifeless visage, these craven few find refuge in the hearts of covens. Mental Description The mental state of one trapped between an entropic soul and a husk of decay is one damned to the far throes of mental strain, yet simultaneously not so lost as its others among its undead brethren. Many dragaur are not completely insane, but rather hold a myriad of manias and phobias — exaggerated mimicries of their former life which bleed through the veil. An obsession with a pursuit of knowledge is not uncommon, with some sorcerers pledging themselves to an unending destiny of collecting books or procuring relics. Morals may wane depending on who they were in life, with some never coming to grip the hunger for lifeforce that beckons them, or the cruel master which presides over their wretched existence. Though undying and undead, these creatures bear far less bestial in inclinations, and the mental workings of a draugar are rather defined by prevailing woes of distant longings dependent on the individual. Often born of a desire for eternity, draugar will dedicate their static existences to whatever fealties or goals they coveted whilst living. In spite of this it is not uncommon for one to conversely pursue different paths over the course of centuries until one falls to their liking and contentment. Faults of the Draugar Although their senses are dulled, there are a handful of vices and mundane hindrances which may foster anguish in the decaying hearts of the things. Most prominent among these is direct sunlight, with a dull burning sensation felt when they are revealed to broad daylight. The pain shifts from dull to outright excruciating after prolonged exposure, feeling as though their very skin were aflame, often requiring the draugar to shroud itself under robes and rags, with many opting to do so with their unsightly appearance. Fabled for its utility against darkspawn, aurum is another weakness which brings a grim reminder of agony to draugars, even from afar. When pure gold is slashed or pierced into the flesh of a draugar, a searing pain will wrack their body, as if it were aflame from within. Aurum dust works to a lesser extent, only bringing a dull throbbing sensation save for in large amounts. Yet even when in the vicinity of gold an unsettling anxiety begins to gnaw at the mind when an ingot’s worth of aurum is within three meters of the undead. Holy magic, especially that of Paladinism, also harms the undead as it would any other; these effects are typical to that of darkspawn, and thus will harm the draugar in turn. Should a draugar use up all of their mana reserves in casting, their corpse would begin to immolate as their flesh is ravaged by the wanton power of the void. This results in the draugar losing all movement, as locomotion comes from their tendons and muscles. When this occurs, it harbors the same drawbacks as a draugar being burnt or flayed of their sinew. They will be unable to move, and will starve of lifeforce if there isn’t any living flora or fauna nearby. Typically draugars require a descendant’s worth of lifeforce every three narrative months — but if only a skull or immobile, will perish after one narrative month without feeding. The Crimson Veil Fashioned uniquely for each draugar, the veil is both a conduit and embodiment of their very soul. No two masks are alike, taking its shape and form based upon the imprint of the draugar’s own soul, with their past life and emotions most often leading them to express themselves through the shape and imagery on the veil. They may appear in whatever guise is favored by the draugar, taking on the faint color of their aura, allowing them to achieve feats of the Arcane which the lowly of their lot could never dream. General Redlines Draugars are limited to the strength of a voidal mage, no matter the magic they know. Draugar retains all magic/accepted MAs they had just before death, including feats such as alchemy. Only if the magic is incompatible, detailed below, will it sever its connection. Due to a lack of operational organs, magics that require living operation such as Kani, Bloodmagic, and otherwise are unable to be learned by the draugar. Draugar are unable to learn any holy magic, save for Seer. Draugar are incapable of learning Necromancy, other than the Darkening spell. Should a Draugar wish to be connected to soul-based arts such as Naztherak or Mysticism, their phylactery must be present at the moment of connection as it houses their soul. Draugar may learn new magic just as any other, with the same five magic slots to spend. All Draugar are similar to a mummified corpse, bearing sickly flesh that may differ from each. If their entire body is burned away, they remain “alive” but are unable to move. Only by smashing the skull, or by starvation of lifeforce for one week without a body will a Draugar die. Draugar do not feel pain with only dulled sensations at best. Only aurum, sunlight, and holy magic are exceedingly painful. Draugar are unable to be poisoned, drown, suffocate, and die by means of the flesh. If a Draugar is decapitated and the body still harbors locomotion after combat, it will slowly inch its way to meet the head and place it back on. Draugar require to drain a count of lifeforce once every three weeks, or else they are unable to use their Crimson Veil and are further enfeebled. Draugars require a valid CA to play, their souls bound to a phylactery forged prior to or during the Sacrament of the Thaumaturge. They are not an open CA race. The Darkstalker Born through profane sacraments, the Darkstalker is considered the penultimate achievement of undeath, brought forth by necromancers as an eternal servant of undeath. These are often once-great warriors brought forth again by dark arts, perhaps some ancient hero or renowned veteran — now bound to the service of the necromancers which brought it forth by means of a contemptible trinket known as the Memento Mori. Few would dare to willingly give themselves into this deranged and twisted form of existence, and even those truly unsound of mind would surely hesitate at this notion of eternal enslavement. The Memento Mori For those whose soul has been returned to the mortal realm, the tool of their resurrection acts as the method of their subjugation: the memento mori. It is a grim reminder of the mortality they have lost — and that which they will never be able to experience again. They exist in variety, and no two are alike, for these trinkets were personal affections that signified something close to them in life. They can be in the form of a portrait, a necklace, a ring or anything else that a person could conceivably fathom to hold dearness to. For when the reanimated are exposed unto this item, they are overwhelmed with emotions and feelings they cannot grasp, being no longer among the living. The act of such incomprehensible memories causes grave mental duress and agony. Until the item is destroyed, a Darkstalker is forever at the mercy of its wielder. The memento mori is chosen by the Darkstalker OOCly when their CA is posted. This item is specific to the Darkstalker it creates and will not function on another. The memento mori must be Story Team signed. The memento mori is not a phylactery, and ultimately the goal is for the undead attached to it to have the item destroyed to forever be free of its presence. Orders cannot be issued without the object within the presence of the Darkstalker. Merely averting the gaze from a memento mori will not detract from its agonizing presence. Using the memento mori as a tool for subjugation requires it to be exposed to open air and for the Darkstalker to be within its presence. Momento Moris must be destructible, and are unable to be made of thanhic steel, carbarum, or any other ‘strong’ materials. Likewise, memento moris cannot be inaccessible, such as hiding them in a voidal pocket, or placing them in another plane of existence. Physical Description Bearing a deathly visage, all darkstalkers are clearly identifiable as undead whether they are mummified corpses or fleshless skeletons. The repugnant aura of rot and decay will linger about their cadaver, perhaps inspiring some to fill their empty cavities with bundles of sage and incense to ward the stench, though to little avail. As undead, darkstalkers harbor limitless endurance, never to tire or falter, meaning they can spar for days if not weeks until their bodies succumb to the destruction of battle. Their height and stature are the same as they were in life, viable only to change under a necromancer who may seek to fleshsmith their eternal knight to their liking. Their strength is comparable to the peak of their living racial counterpart, bearing an unnatural aptitude for combat and knightly prowess unlike other undead constructs. The resolute nature of the darkstalker is largely due to the excess lifeforce present, strengthening the body far past an average corpse and granting them inhuman resilience. The durability of their body is likewise increased, making slashing and piercing weapons rather benign against these undead, save for crucial ligaments; one well placed hit from a greatsword may sever or crush a limb, offering a more precise attack to their frames. While immortal, their bones may be cut, maimed, or broken, with blunt force trauma often bringing about the most damage to their structures. This may entice the undead to equip armor, allowing greater resilience against their otherwise brittle disposition. When unburdened by excess weight, darkstalkers are spry and quick, easily capable of outrunning encumbered mortals and even some elves. However, while untiring, should a darkstalker equip plate, they would do so at the cost of skill and rotational movement. It should be noted that destroying the body alone will not kill a darkstalker, as their skull will continue to live on. Only by smashing or obliterating the skull will a darkstalker finally succumb to death, albeit temporary. Three direct shots from a crossbow, or hits with a sword, would likely obliterate the skull. More blunt objects, such as a hammer, are more effective in crushing the skull, accomplishing such in a mere two hits. Should the skull be removed from the body, it will simply fall inert and crumble until the skull is set back into place. Mental Description Though these creatures experience little physical pain, the mind of a darkstalker is ailed by perpetual anguish. No longer among the living, darkstalkers are incapable of experiencing the emotional constructs of mortals, now made apathetic, if not even cruel, immoral, or evil as a result of their detest for those who live. Though they may feign some moral code or conscience as to integrate themselves amongst society, this becomes increasingly difficult as their despondency and hunger for mortal flesh quickly overcomes them, perpetuating the fear of those living dead that walk. As a result, these cursed warriors are burdened, forever knowing that their spirit was not meant for the vessel they now inhabit, whether or not it was once their own. They are forced to witness the joys that all who experience life without a second thought, whilst the dakrstalker is left in woeful envy as they would give anything to partake of that which they are now so deprived of. This leaves the darkstalker entirely divorced from human emotion, leaving them sadistic and cold, caring little for the world. When placed in the presence of their Memento Mori, however, the anguish of the darkstalker is amplified tenfold, causing inescapable agony of the mind and leaving emotional scarring in its wake. Perennial Hunger The constant vacuum of entropy that is the darkstalker soul requires fuel to keep the knight resolute, both in body and in mind. Every two narrative months, a darkstalker must drain one unit of lifeforce from a living mortal, requiring at least a descendant’s sum of energy in total. Should they refuse or are rather unable, their body will begin to weaken to the strength of a scholar, as armor becomes more unwieldy to don. Not only are they more frail and bones grow more brittle, their mentality turns to that of a starved lunatic, driven mad at the mere touch of lifeforce flowing within the living. They may appear ghoul-like, frantic to find their next meal as to even tear the flesh from their victims in pleading hunger. Darkstalker Growth The eternal unlife of a darkstalker is not only a miserable existence of stagnation; likewise to the living, they may climb and clamber to higher aspirations. The first step of this journey entails the budding Darkstalker consuming three additional drainings of lifeforce over the course of four narrative years, before allowing them to fully ascend to the state of Regressed. To become Paramount, however, the Darkstalker must strike an accord with a necromancer, undergoing the Sacrament of Culmination. General Redlines Darkstalkers are undead with no muscles or living flesh, meaning that they have limitless endurance and may run or stay in combat for longened periods of time. Darkstalker bones are strengthened by the residual lifeforce they garner from draining, making their structures less brittle and tougher against physical force. Only the wear and tear of such activities will hinder them. Darkstalkers may exert physical strength equivalent to that of a knight; knights are as strong as their peak, living descendant counterparts and are unable to grow physically stronger. With a lack of weight, they are fast and spry. Even with armor they are still quick, yet cumbersome with the constricted movement plate armor gives. Darkstalkers may withstand some hits to their skull, allowing it to chip away. Only when the skull is completely obliterated, or fragmented, will the darkstalker die. This requires three well placed shots from a crossbow or sword to destroy the skull. A warhammer only needs two well placed hits. A warhammer strike against an unarmored darkstalker, when pinned against a solid surface, would only require one hefty strike to obliterate the cranium. They are not harmed by poison, fire, drowning, etc. as there are no lungs to drown or blood to clot; only sunlight,flame, and holy healing bring pain. They need not eat or sleep, nor do they age. Direct sunlight will bring about a burning sensation, gradually feeling as though their entire body is on fire with enough exposure, yet cause no true harm. Fire has a similar effect. Holy healing includes paladinism, and any other magic that directly attacks dark beings. Any darkstalker that does not harbor a natural skeleton, or is larger than a descendant requires an Mart; i.e. a swarm of insects, an olog, or a serpentine abomination. A darkstalker is unable to learn any magic, and any 'magical' feats. Only knowledge-based feats such as alchemy, arcane displacement, or sorvian sculpting may be learned. This list is exhaustive, and only permits feats which don’t require a pure soul. This includes necromancy, unless permitted otherwise by MArt. Paramount Darkstalkers may, however, perform the Rite of Branding and the Rite of Rejuvenation upon mortals to bind their own Witchbound thralls. Darkstalkers require a valid CA to play, and must be properly raised by the Sacrament of the Usurer. They are not an open CA race. Darkforging There are a great many things which inflict mortal toil; from the dashing of one’s foot against a stone, to the venomous bite of a wretched serpent. An infallible presence, the iniquitous aspect of man’s pain cannot be denied, and such may even be drawn upon to the advantage of the damned. Thus, those wrought from the grave by lifeforce, in knowing ultimate pain themselves, may grapple with human suffering — whether under a cloak of ash in some dark forgotten forge, or perhaps before an altar as an offering to some dark sovereign. Such objects would often be condemned as objects of dark invocation, which remain riddled with curses and maledictions the likes of which man has often feared. Yet these objects remain far greater weapons to those few who would be the wiser of their true nature — and still be so bold as to wield them. The Archlich Empowered far beyond mortal scale, the first Archliches came to the realm stolen from the far away land of Rh’thor. Being elder necromancers who bargained and schemed their way to the top of their hierarchy and achieved immortality, an Archlich differs from a lich through the mastery they hold over the dead. It is for this reason that knowledge on attaining the power of the archlich is safeguarded to only the most venerated of necromancers. The Archlich exists beyond the lichdom of yore, in a state that garners and attracts the quintessence of death, acting as a beacon to the damned and commanders of their coven. Physical Description The shrewd Archlich can take many forms — ranging from fleshy half-skeletons draped in ceremonial shrouds, walking corpses covered in linen as mummified demons, or the rotted, gaunt reflection of the image they held in life. The Archlich, at the price of retaining their necromancy and their enhanced affinity for studying other arcane techniques, is physically much weaker than that of other undead and even living necromancers, possessing physical strength equivalent to that of an enfeebled old man. Though slash and piercing damage would do little to an Archlich considering their lack of organs to puncture, their brittle bones would be relatively frail to blunt-force trauma, making heavy attacks a distinct liability. As undead, however, their skull encompasses a majority of their critical functions, and unless entirely destroyed, will allow the Archlich to continue ‘living’ in the most remote sense of the word — that said, a critical blow to their skull would be enough to incapacitate them and render them defeated for a short while. Because of their weakened structure, Archliches, though still possessing the physical prowess of a sedentary individual akin to necromancers, cannot don any armor nor wield weapons with great proficiency; but while not particularly regarded for their martial prowess, the Archlich is infamous for its mastery over the dark arts. Though unable to equip armor, they may choose to wear thin layers of gold for aesthetic assuming it does not make direct contact with their ‘flesh’, and bone armor curated to their necrotic form may also be donned. Like most undead, should only the Archlich’s body be destroyed, their skull may continue to live on. Only by smashing or obliterating the skull will an Archlich finally succumb to death, albeit temporarily. Two direct shots from a crossbow, or from a sword, would likely obliterate the skull. More blunt objects, such as a hammer, are more effective in crushing the skull, accomplishing such in a single hit. Despite its great power over undeath, the Archlich is still susceptible to numerous effects. Holy magic causes inherent harm due to its unholy nature, and successfully enacting a full purge upon their corporeal body would result in it demanifesting for a time. Gold and fire both inflict similar pain, though cause no real damage. The greatest liability of the Archlich, however, is their susceptibility to being drained. Despite their soul being more deeply connected with the lifebanks, the corporeal presence of the Archlich is easily consumed by the effects of Darkening. Even at their full capacity of lifeforce slots, an Archlich needs only encounter two consecutive drainings to have their skeletal body crumble into a heap of bones and dust. Physical Description More often than not, the Archlich is a violent, cruel, and sadistic thing. Their minds, perverted by undeath, are wracked by a hunger for lifeforce that inevitably consumes them, driving them to the brink of madness and occult dabblings alike. Even the wisest among these powerful undead are numb to the realities of life, divorced from the human empathy they might have once possessed. Despite this, these creatures are not inherently evil, nor do they exist hellbent on seeing the world burn, but rather are driven to extreme lengths to achieve their own goals, advancing goals that they themselves might view as ‘beneficial’ for the rest of mankind. Regardless of how the Archlich has been marked as an aberrant monstrosity and coldhearted perversion of undeath, many exist with logical convictions that can give a facetious semblance of morality — feigning moral codes in order to reach to something that they fully understand to be lost. Frail when outside a stagnated domain, Archliches are often reclusive and make recourse to the support of their coven or bound Darkstalkers in order to get things done. Nevertheless, their rule from the shadows is one to be feared. Walker of Heith-Hedran Unlife incarnate, the Archliches of Heith-Hedran walk a terrible line between the mortal realm and the veil of lifeforce they have torn. In desperate attempts to receive limitless power, the Archlich seeks to bind themselves to these faults of the Lifebanks, serving as both the anchor and font of their dark powers. This interaction with the Lifebanks renders the Archlich similar to that of a wound in Heith-Hedran, albeit inferior in scale — their presence dampening the veil of the Lifebanks rather than outright tearing it asunder. Thus, to further their power and influence over the realm, Archliches often seek to build great monuments where the pylons of their covens stand, a testament to their desire to hold all life in the palm of their fetid hand. General Redlines Archliches are necromancers granted a greater capacity to practice other dark arts. This does not mean their magic is necessarily more powerful than that of a regular mage. As undead, Archliches are unable to sire living children. An Archlich possesses the physical strength of a sedentary descendant, completely unable to adorn metal-plated armor. They may still equip boneforged armor. Archliches may withstand only a few hits to their skull. Once the skull is completely obliterated, or fragmented beyond function, will the Archlich die. This requires two well placed shots from a crossbow or sword to destroy the skull. A warhammer only needs one well placed hit. An Archlich may use their suspension within the lifebanks as a means of levitation, allowing them to passively float up to a few inches off the ground to no mechanical or combat benefit. They are not harmed by poison, fire, drowning, etc. as there are no lungs to drown or blood to clot; only sunlight,flame, and holy healing bring pain. They need not eat or sleep, nor do they age. Direct sunlight will bring about a burning sensation, gradually feeling as though their entire body is on fire with enough exposure, yet cause no true harm. Fire has a similar effect. Holy healing includes paladinism, and any other magic that directly attacks dark beings. An Archlich cannot learn any holy magic or magic requiring a pure soul. They may not learn Blood Magic, as their bodies do not harbor the genus necessary to do so. Archliches require a valid CA to play, and must be properly raised by the Sacrament of the Vicar performed on a T5 necromancer. They are not an open CA race. Modifications By blurring the lines between life and death a necromancer is capable of becoming one with his macabre creations and increasing the capacity of their own mortal bodies. From achieving forms of false lichdom for more powerful manipulations over the lifebanks or enhancing the cherished and perfected reanimation, a necromancer prides themselves on being the maestro conducting the symphony of bone. Through this, they may embolden their undead armies, granting them feats unattainable to most of the living and the dead.
  3. Necromancy: The Gift of Widukind Necromancy is among the few primeval arts which has based itself within the mortal realm since the days of antiquity, festering as some rotting tumor within the unlit corners of the world. Those who dare to tamper with its power are the sort recanted in woeful tales and fables seldom sung, amassing great legions of undeath and crumbling empires all in the pursuit of their own empowerment. But over an age the art adopted a more subtle role, inspiring its practitioners to amass in unseen convocations, quiet and reserved as they enact their blasphemous rites, fashioning for themselves a foothold in this realm — so that when the time came to rise again, they would not so easily be weeded out. Now, illuminated by the flames of revelation, the necromancers and their wretched cabals have once more sought a means of expanding their fell gospel, propagating their legions of undead to pave a road for their Promised Lord to come forth in all his glory. Explanation Those who seek to evade the grasp of death are marked as an accursed lot; doomed to be inevitably quelled by the hand of their own craft — for the lifebanks ultimately reclaim all back to itself, and even those who toy with life are no exception. Fear absorbs each step as every breath pulls them closer to the brink, the pale visage of death looming behind each corner. For this reason, these foul occultists are forever ushered to flock back to their decaying crypts along with their dark fellowship for fear of what might transpire should they remain alone, spurned of all companionship that lies beyond their dark, somber walls and deep vaults. Their pathetic, feverish efforts to preserve their own life is what leaves the necromancer denied any chance of reconciliation, forced to live in a state of half-death as their soul is marred by the dark things they dare to dabble in. Lifeforce and Heith-Hedran The art of Rh’thorean Necromancy is powered by the esoteric substance of lifeforce. It is a naive energy, malleable and moveable, and present in all life whether young and true or wretched and fleshless, furious and ornery; it keeps those who hold it dear alive and well. This precious substance forever funnels in perpetual motion, both granting life and then slipping away as do grains of sand between one’s fingers. Passively, lifeforce courses through all things unseen, and remains a benign energy which keeps the living in motion. Yet it is through the art of Necromancy, by harnessing the raw and unfiltered essence of lifeforce, that it is made malignant and black like tar, capable of being woven by these fell sorcerers to bring back the dead. Never to be created nor destroyed, the antediluvian essence flits and flows in an unending cycle, trickling back into the earth as if some antipodean spring. This font of essence gives itself to all which lies above, permitting life to flourish, only to take back what it has given once the last breath of life has passed. Just as flesh is torn, wounded, and battered, so too shall the lifeforce part; soon the life will return, renewing the cycle to nurture and heal the wound. When constrained by order, lifeforce remains an invisible and benign energy. Only when torn from the lifebanks in its raw and primal form does it assume the wild form of tenebrous black mists which inspire malignant tumors and festering growths, entirely divorced from its original purpose. In lands where this veil is weakest, the world is choked by the grasp of the undying. Forces of death seep into the land itself, plaguing it with famine and disease. Seething first from the ground, blackened bile arises from a culmination of tumors, cancers, and maladies on the land, then the sun is blotted out in a thin, blackened haze. As darkness begins to wrap itself around the sky and choke out the sun, what’s left behind is a quasi-ethereal wasteland where fiends and ghoulish horrors flourish. It is where death itself has become visible in the realm of men, where the esoteric residue of life can call upon forsaken souls, where one may simply reach out to pluck the damned themselves from the heavens or hells below. It is the necromancers of Rh'thor that have learned to utilize the scars of this reservoir, dubbed by Rh’thorean sects as Heith-Heidran, allowing necromancers to conduct their soulrending sacraments and use the power here to fuel their insidious art. Through this weakened fabric of the lifebanks, a necromancer can fuel their power here, molding the energy of life itself to instead embody malignancy and twist life into death. As a rule of thumb, each mortal typically possesses 2 units of lifeforce (unless lore deemed otherwise), and will be rendered unconscious upon fully draining 1 unit. Upon draining two total 2 units consecutively, the individual will shrivel up into a dried husk and perish. While lifeforce is found in nearly all living things, certain entities lack such esoteric energy, typically as a result of being animated by some other force. These include, but are not necessarily limited to, machine spirits, constructs (such as golems, sorvians), and Voidal Horrors. Incorporeal undead still possess lifeforce just as corporeal undead do. Inversely, certain creatures possess an abundance of lifeforce as a result of magical saturation, such as Tree Lord Husks and Azdrazi; both of which possess larger than average lifeforce pools. Darkening A perverted sign, shunned of Rh’thor; Darkening is a wicked, albeit primary instrument of Necromancy which embodies the occult desire to consume — a tool of heretical sects and malignant guilds, handed down from ages passed. It is this vile testimony to the dark that remains a staple of the necromancer’s power, permitting them to tear lifeforce from the living and sew it among the dead. Maledictions The earmark skills of the necromancer, who in their defiance of the natural, may bequeath grotesque invocations and anathematic weavings, upholding their occult precepts with skewed deliberation. These wicked, albeit primary instruments of necromancy embody the occult desire to consume, a tool of heretical sects and malignant guilds, handed down from ages passed. It is this vile testimony to the dark that permits them to manipulate raw and unbridled life essence and invoke fell powers which would sow affliction among men. Though delicate in practice, the scythe of death is unforgiving, and woe to those who’ve been plagued with such misfortune as to have themselves set in the presence of he who has delved into the arts of undeath. Reanimation The power from which Necromancy derives its name — the revival of the dead in order to serve their wicked master. It is by reanimation that a necromancer may feign life within corpses and cadavers, creating their own faux children born of undeath. Yet to conceive life on its own is a delicate and deliberate practice, and greater still when that life has already been taken and whereas the necromancers of old bore the innate capacity to control their reanimated thralls by merit of a metaphysical wound, the necromancers of Rh’thor fashioned a tool to compensate for this dire lack — dubbed ‘Oculi’ by its ancient progenitors. Though capable of bringing both old and newly dead cadavers to life, much of necromancy’s strength lies not merely in conjuring derelict skeletons from graveyards or battlefields, but through intricate and tedious processes of embalming and fleshsmithing in the dark, secluded places of the earth. Men so bold as to call themselves necromancers go about weaving bone as if it were clay and flesh as though it were thread, for to the heretic lots of Rh’thor, this is an art — and even the dead are made anew with a perverted perfection in mind. Plaguecrafting In pursuit of the “Infinite Malady” — an affliction that harbors every type of disease simultaneously — plague doctors and necromantic pathomancers have besought numerous means to bring about great suffering upon men. Though no such devices exist within the realm of men, this foul pursuit gave birth to many other dark and deathly afflictions that may appeal to the necromancer’s fancy, thus allowing them to instill terror and misery within the living. Through weaving their own corrupting lifeforce, necromancers may exploit life to become twisted and vile, divorcing it from its natural function to instill these dark maladies. Woe to the man who hath killed a necromancer’s mercy, but vengeance to the tribe that wrought the ire of death. The Apocryphynium Inherited by each generation of necromancers, the Apocryphynium is a tainted compendium of forgotten scrawlings and forbidden lores, each hand to which it passses furthering its iniquity. The knowledge contained within such a volume pertains to that of necromancy’s most intrinsic practices, deeply revered and passed from each timeworn master to budding apprentice; entailing each and every rite and reagent of the necromantic which might allow one to further empower their black craft. Any individual who inherits this deposit of the occult, no matter their mastery, is obliged to expand upon it, sustaining it further so that future generations might know — recalling that which eternally binds them. Dark Reagents The Apocryphynium details most known reagents of the dark craft, each of which hold some mechanical use or contain latent power that is necessary to enact the path of the occult. This knowledge, shared with acolytes of necromancy and added to by their masters, is commonly known throughout practicing covens and often reproduced several times over, allowing them to employ its wisdom in rituals and rites alike. Intercessions Severed from the living, the dead and those who command them have none to turn to save for their brethren, with the vile agents of death congregating in both meager covens and vast assemblies of their own fallen ilk. United, these wayward sorcerers form mighty and baleful circles which may perform innumerable feats of darkness and undeath, from ordination upon acolytes, to mastery over the fabrics of life and death itself in heinous, blasphemous fashion. Yet they must all be wary, for even amongst their own kin they only rival to their power remains within the coven itself, imperiled by the apostates and serpents which are drawn to these impious assemblies — and one must fear not to anger their accursed servants, for the dead do not forget. Black Sacraments Though through intercessory rites necromancers may indulge in malignant corruption, such rituals are far inferior to the true power harbored by its art. The Black Sacraments are what truly grants necromancy its notoriety, enabling covens to convene in droves to bring about terrible feats, namely those which foster, nurture, and empower the undead. And whereas generations of necromancers once thought themselves to hold dominion over death, it was inevitably revealed that those mortals who toyed with lifeforce harbored a more particular role, and that death had in fact made servants of them. Tier Progression Tier One – The necromancer has just been attuned, their soul and body beginning to take on the toll of Heith-Hedran. Not only would they be left mentally unsound for a time due to the dramatic experience of their own demise, but they would also become lethargic and weary. Their hair might gray as if they had succumbed to an intense stress, whilst still maintaining the general appearance of those within their age range. The necromancer would develop a greater hunger for rawer meats, whereas other delicacies might taste more bland and leave them dissatisfied. During this stage, the necromancer may begin to draw upon their lifeforce and study the anatomy of smaller creatures; such as insects, rats, squirrels, and so forth. Tier Two – Two weeks have passed since the necromancer’s attunement, their appearance becoming more decrepit and aged as bags form under their eyes and wrinkles are borne upon the skin. They might appear more anorexic and pale, as if they were stricken by some obscure illness, as their utter craving for raw lifeforce consumes them further, driving them to consume greater quantities of raw meat. During this stage, the necromancer may manipulate their lifeforce in a more outward fashion as opposed to merely draining, and allowing them to move onto the embalming and reanimation of basic creatures scaling up to the size of a descendant child or halfling, albeit somewhat crude. At this tier, they may be taught how to more expertly weave their lifeforce, allowing them to perform the arts of Reverse Tethering and Boneforging. Tier Three – The necromancer has reached a one month period since their first immersion within Heith-Hedran, allowing its malignant touch to have seeded itself more firmly within the necromancer’s spirit, and thus tarnish the body. Upon reaching this tier, the necromancer would appear two decades older than their true age, as they are stricken by incredible insomnia, and thus fostering paranoia and irrational train of thought. During this time, the necromancer may begin to practice Fleshsmithing, as well as the creation of more durable reanimated creatures. They would also be taught to weave their lifeforce maliciously within the bound thralls of another necromancer, or even their own, thus creating lesser witches. Tier Four – The necromancer has reached the two month mark of being endowed with the gift of Heith-Hedran, their body now appearing as some infirm and decrepit thing. Whilst a mortal man in his thirties might appear as any other, a necromancer at that age may appear within their sixties or higher, strained by the lifeforce that weaves within them. Their craving for lifeforce is nigh insatiable, almost constantly present within the back of their mind as they would seek by any means to indulge in it. At this point in time, the necromancer may be marked as a master amongst the coven, soon allowing them to apply to teach new necromancers should they be deemed worthy. With this, they may be capable of leading certain rituals should they know them, and their ability to sew malediction would only grow more potent. Tier Five – The necromancer has honed their skill for three months. After passing from tier four, few physical changes ultimately present themselves, as the body of the necromancer simply continues to age. Either they shall remain in this pitiful state for the remainder of their mortal life, or perhaps they shall ascend to Archlichdom. Either way, their mind would be wracked by the ravages of age and the dark practice they dabble in, for now the necromancer has become mastered in every branch of knowledge offered by the art and may be officially granted the title of elder. With this, they may move on to teach their own prodigy within the guidance of their coven, or simply sit upon their dark secrets and hoard the knowledge for themselves. Credits, Purpose, and Citations
  4. you've got a big storm coming...

  5. Home stretch.. almost done.. I hate finals...

  6. You've successfully established the character drive of pretty much every holy mage in a single spoiler. How do you feel?
  7. Lifeforce and the Lifebanks Lifeforce; the paramount essence which flows throughout all that lives, sustaining them as a fuel which may never falter. It is a naive energy, malleable and moveable, and present in all life whether young and true or wretched and fleshless, furious and ornery; it keeps those who hold it dear alive and well. Never to be created nor destroyed, the antediluvian substance flits and flows in an unending cycle, both granting life and then slipping away as do grains of sand between one’s fingers. When life passes from its host, the essence will trickle back into the earth and deposit within an antipodean spring, only to circle back after being renewed. This font of essence, known as the Lifebanks, is entirely metaphysical and not quite present within the mortal realm. Though in concept it is said to lie deep under the earth, in a way it is separated by a veil which confines the vibrant energy to its cycle and grants it a sense of order. Through this eternal cycle, it gives itself to all which lies above, permitting life to flourish, only to take back what it has given once the last breath of life has passed. Just as flesh is torn, wounded, and battered, so too shall the lifeforce part; but soon the life will return, renewing the cycle to nurture and mend what is broken. Constrained by natural law, lifeforce passively courses through all things unseen, and remains a benign energy which keeps the living in motion; clerics may apply it to mend the wounded, and druids to coax nature back to life. Only when torn from the lifebanks in its raw and primal form does it assume the wild form of tenebrous black mists which inspire malignant tumors and festering growths, entirely divorced from its original purpose. This often has led people to believe lifeforce is a malignant thing, conjured by necromancers and warlocks to fuel their machinations. In truth though, it is quintessential to both move the living, and to reanimate the dead. Without it, the heart would not beat, the oak would not bloom, the wound would not mend, and the grass would not grow — all things would be left to rot in stagnancy. Though entirely immaterial, there are some materials which interact uniquely with this esoteric substance, namely that of aurum. Gold can store lifeforce within itself, saturating it throughout the material so as to stop the lifeforce from continuing its cycle. This was often employed by the Gravelords of old who sought this as a means of stopping the flow altogether, or using it to channel more potent rites. Key Points: Lifeforce cannot be created nor destroyed. It may be displaced and its flow damaged, causing it to become malignant and foster stagnancy in the land. Lifeforce flows within a passive and eternal cycle: rising from the Banks to grant life and animation, only to funnel back down to its source once life has passed. Every living thing is animated by lifeforce, and even the dead, who no longer harbor life, require lifeforce to pilote their decrepit frames or support their ethereal manifestations which saturate the material world. When a being dies, they will not immediately lose all lifeforce, rather it will gradually seep away until the body has fully decomposed. Lifeforce as an energy is not divine in its origins. It may be superficially exploited by deities and other entities as a means to heal or cause harm, though it ultimately has no true master. Only necromancy may successfully draw upon pure and unadulterated lifeforce. Gold may store lifeforce and thus has been a viable means of causing harm to certain lifeforce-wielding entities within the bounds of their lore. Stagnant Lifeforce When lifeforce is forcibly pulled from its deep and eternal repertoire, and the veil between the Banks is torn asunder, it takes upon itself curious properties which appear antithetical to its general function in nature; flowers will wilt, trees and shrubbery will wither, water becomes poison, and flesh will rot away. With the veil no longer allowing lifeforce to flow, it cannot pass from death nor bequeathe life, creating a peculiar ‘limbo’ in which the land becomes sick and stifled, the world choked by the grasp of the undying. Necromancers have learned to tear fissures similar to these, dubbed by the men of Rh’thor as Heith-Hedran — a fabled and malformed darkness where the curtain of life has been pulled back, and the banks are made raw within the mortal realm. These fissures, once opened, expel unprecedented surges of raw and unruly lifeforce necessary for the empowerment of the dead, whilst warping the world around it into a dark and desolate wasteland. Where the expanse lies, fields grow barren with unnatural storms of black lightning and screeching thunder, enshadowed in an unnatural twilight that perpetuates unsightly light. The wood becomes gnarled and its leaves wither, trunks blister with cysts and festering tumors as fungal growths plague the ground and eat away at what remains. Rivers and pools turn tenebrous and dark, and fill the air with the pungent aura of rot, causing the water to become bitter to man and poisonous to small animals. No manner of rest may be achieved when in the embrace of stagnancy. By sheer presence within that foul land, any mortal who treads stagnant terrain would gradually be overcome by minor tertiary effects of disease, such as sneezing and coughing. Symptoms worsen as exposure is prolonged, though more harrowing are the effects of this stagnation upon the mind; those who remain in stagnant land consistently for prolonged periods of time will inherit various mental ailments, or dramatically worsen existing ones. To those who can hear the land, the earth screams out in agony amidst a sickened heartbeat, pleading to merely be put down, the sheer anguish from which can be enough to drive one to madness on its own. Creatures particularly susceptible to corruption, such as Epiphytes, Tree Lord Husks, and Nephilim, will find themselves to be physically and mentally weakened the longer they remain within the region, their body and mind both slowly overcome by stagnancy. This process usually takes several instances of prolonged exposure, where the creature would enter the land for a few narrative hours, leave, then return perhaps some days later. Should they not purge themselves before fully succumbing to corruption, their bodies would take on corrupted and malignant forms based upon the nature of their anatomy. Key Points: Lifeforce is made stagnant and raw only when forcibly torn from its cycle, most commonly by feats of necromancy. Stagnant lifeforce entails lifeforce which ‘animates’, but no longer flows in and out between life and death, thus giving way to rot and perpetual decay without release of death. Sickness runs rampant, and disease is commonplace. Nothing new can grow nor be born where the blight lingers; trees will wither away and yet remain, leaving gnarled husks where great oaks once stood; and the heartbeat will slowly dwindle up until the brink of death, but will never be allowed to cease. Stagnant land is not a ‘spreading’ corruption in and of itself. The extent to which land stagnates is based on the size of the originating wound, whether that be a necromantic rift, a pylon, or other unnatural source. The greater the wounds become, the more its stagnating influence expands. Creatures susceptible to blight will find their lifeforce stagnated more quickly than that of regular mortals, corrupting as described in their respective lores. Mending the Wound It is far easier to rend something than to mend it, and the primordial veil of the Lifebanks is no exception to this rule. Even a full assembly of shamans or a council of druids would struggle to repair the same wound that only a handful of necromancers were able to rupture. While the stagnant land itself can be easily purged, more often than not the festering corruption is merely the symptom of an even greater disease, and thus attempting to remedy the land without having removed the festering source at its center would simply result in the land becoming stagnant again after a short period of time. To truly banish the effects of stagnancy and allow lifeforce to flow once more, the heart of the corruption must be located. Upon locating the heart of the blight, should the heart even be found, a group of competent Farseer Shamans or Druids may unite to repair the wound in the eternal Banks. In both cases, the druids or shamans would need to channel their respective energies to effectively ‘grab’ the fringes of the rift and pull them shut before mending the wound, all whilst enduring the agonizing cries of the world around them. Depending on the scale of the fissure and the extent to which it has twisted the surrounding lands, it may take more than a mere cabal to muster the power necessary to fully close the deathly aperture and halt its festering reach. Even should the rift be sealed and life and death are made possible again, the scar left by the unnatural wound will take some time to fully heal; for just as the stagnation was not immediate in its arrival, so too will its expulsion be a lengthy process. The sealing of the rift itself needs only one ritual, but to truly repair the land itself is a process spanning perhaps generations. Trees might finally be allowed to fall and die, but new ones will still take decades to grow; stagnated rivers would flow again, but the rot would need time to wash away from its banks. Though not consumed by agony as before, to those attuned, both spirits and nature herself would still issue a languishing cry as they nurse their wounds, and will not subside until the once-stagnant land has been fully appeased and becomes suitable for grass to grow, trees to sprout, and flowers to bloom. Key Points: Healing stagnated land without healing the rupture in the veil will cause the stagnancy to return after only a short while. Wounds in the Banks may be sealed by Druidic Blighthealing, or a Farseer’s blessing of Skorthuz. The number of individuals and the level of skill is roughly determined by the size and influence of the wound, the mechanics for which are described in further detail in the Necromancy lore. While the lands around a wound may be allowed to heal following its sealing, the process will take an incredibly long time, anywhere from years to decades if left to heal on its own. Even with the aid of druidic magic, the process of healing the scar may, at best, be shortened to several years.
  8. It's incredibly unfortunate that you had to experience something like that so early on. The sad reality is that there are many who seek only self-preservation and the fulfillment of their own goals over contributing to narrative or giving to the community. It's not wrong for a community to have their own vision or aspirations, but if it reaches the point where they to toxicity and OOC targeting to achieve their goals, then I think the best thing to do is simply find another community. LOTC is incredibly transient and fickle, and both the server and its communities are constantly undergoing shifts in leadership and vision, and the bottom line is that to take root in that community means you have to risk things that may be upheaved. Does that mean it's all hopeless and not worth your time? Absolutely not. We can still make long-lasting things and impactful relationships with other individuals, but when things do go south, we also need to be willing to pick ourselves back up and not take it too much to heart. It is a game after all. And, as I said, the community changes very quickly, and there are tons of new communities that pop up all the time. Theres a wide range of groups willing to take in just about anyone. Find one that suits and welcomes you — or even multiple if you like! In the end, we can't really enforce the ideal on every single player — people have tried and failed. But we can try to live out that ideal ourselves with the hope that we can lead by example. Learn from how others might hurt you so that you don't end up doing the same. Be welcoming to those who might be new and looking for a new community or home. Treat others the way you want to be treated. These may sound as nice anecdotes that offer no real solution, but I can almost guarantee that if you manage to do these things you will make more meaningful friends than you will spiteful enemies. You just need to keep your chin up and move on.
  9. Any slotted seers about these days?

  10. I gave a brief look over the lore, and it's certainly interesting. I have a few reservations regarding theme and some of the lore used, though none of that is really conducive to improving the lore itself, and I otherwise enjoyed the flavor and unique spin it had on this particular niche of RP. However, there are a few questions that came to mind. For one, these seem very mechanically similar to how Mystic's function in terms of the spirit bonding and the corporeal/incorporeal merging; beyond aesthetic and abilities, what serves to prevent it from just being another flavor for the same niche? Also, what kind of spirits are these? Are they dead, inferi, or shamanic spirits? I wasn't very clear, but maybe I just missed it. Otherwise, I wish it luck.
  11. 7/10; 0.73 post/rep ratio.
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