Hephaestus

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM SLAEMEING

god damn, if this isn't some cool shit. two questions: 1) will u be able to customise potion effects (i might have missed this but i skimmed the post tbh) 2) does aging a drink for more/less time have any sway on the potion in any respect

"NOOOOOOOOO IT'S OVER NGMI!" Vladislav, the uncharacteristically evil, broke down.

poopforging

in addition to this, failure to defecate the curse (10/100 roll or below) can cause fecal implosion in the potion imbiber (ur poop bottles up and u explode)

"I believe, it was time the true marionette of my old and prudent house made himself revealed. Hell hath no fury like an Ipos scorned." Something sinister this way came.

hey honey, christmas came early this year

cringe lore (lol). who is sorcerio and why is he such a wretched c**t (lol).

meow

A little hesitant about the theme as some have stated but, this seems interesting to me. Good luck.

A servant of the night-lands juggles a flat-topped skull in the waste of skin and sinew between his fingers. Par for his gregariousness in his life-lived, and goetia — black magicks, false dominion — in the life-not, oftentimes did courtiers of the splintered houses of Karovic navigate the open frontier to deliver publications, brochures, open letters, and anything which might appease him so to impart the, gold or, worse, authority. Literature did not often warm nor soften him. He frowned, as so often he might, brows folding over his eyes in swelling frustration: "What, did they not get the memo? No courier service in the northern wastes? Carrion is no more, be that as it is. The birds of death, the carrion crows, have dropped cold from the tree; only vultures stand the perch of the old houses of Karovic. I will make dead-certain of that."

_____________________________________________________________________________________ NURSING the stalk of a pale, meerschaum pipe, between his gnarled lips, Vladislav watched gouts of woodsmoke curl out from the bowl of his tobacco tube. Often as not, he swatted his fingers in the little fissures between the silvery plumes, intently observing the billows cleave into two, then four, then six clouds feeding the shadow in the drafty ceiling of his hovel which dawned over him like a terrible tempest. … Tut, tut. He clicked his tongue several times over, as if to chastise the foolhardy writer. With a swift, but laborious ascent, he grew to both feet to fetch his pinion-quill. Vladislav entered the head of the feather into a wasted cartridge of ink, correcting the -mir in Vladimir to a sophisticated -slav. "So, they think because I am away, that they can steal my brand? That I, dead and six-feet below, will surrender arms and fade into obscurity? Become only a relic from human antiquity? They are wrong. There is room for only one Vlad. And, he will not be a lizard. He shall be a spider." _____________________________________________________________________________________

You should accept my friend Spoon (2PXY)'s lore, he's a cool guy (a cool guy).

A young Vladislav Carrion sorrows over the loss of taste in his mouth, pondering his humanity. His scholarly ambitions drown out in the static of the Walkman piping through his ears. Strange aeons later, Vlad 'the Bad' surrenders to terrifying, extraterrestrial premonitions, all the while avidly listening through his newly purchased iPod Nano. Naturally, the last of his late lord-father's inheritance. Meanwhile, Sahar of Chaldees quaffs curdled goat's milk as his arms fluttered desperately through a tub of counterfeit gold and coin. The Yong-Ping manufactured stereo system in his pavilion sounds an eclectic selection of Mihyaari and Qalasheen pop. Coolly, Lector Drudo Pasquina whets the edge of his Owynist gladius-sword on the gable of Kaer'Lassar. He delights in his meagre flea market Walkman. Satisfied, he watches over Du Loc. God is good!

Okay, so this is an easy fix: If your computer doesn’t meet the minimum system requirements for Apex Legends, you’re no doubt having the lagging issues playing Apex Legends. So be sure to meet the minimum system requirements. Personally, my system specs are as follows: - OS 64-bit Windows 7 - CPU Intel i5 3570K or equivalent - RAM 8 GB - GPU Nvidia GeForce GTX 970 / AMD Radeon R9 290 -Harddrive Minimum 22 GB of free space - GPU RAM 8 GB Since many technical problems can be resolved by restarting, it never hurts to restart your computer and your game. Often this will be enough to fix your issue. Game developers always keep releasing patches to improve their games and fix any issues, so you should check for updates of your game in Origin or from the official website. Then install the latest patch to keep it up to date. This can fix some issues like the Apex Legends lagging. The missing or outdated device drivers in your computer can result in the game lag issues, especially your graphics card driver for FPS drops, or network card driver for the Internet lagging. To rule it out as the cause for your problem, you should verify that your drivers are up to date, and update those that aren’t. There are two ways to update your drivers: manually and automatically: Manually update drivers – You can go to the device manufacturer’s website, search for the latest version of your driver, then manually download and install it in your computer. This requires the time and computer skills. Automatically update drivers – If you don’t have the time or patience, you can do it automatically with Driver Easy. Driver Easy will automatically recognize your system and find the correct drivers for it. You don’t need to know exactly what system your computer is running, you don’t need to risk downloading and installing the wrong driver, and you don’t need to worry about making a mistake when installing. You can update your drivers automatically with either the FREE or the Pro version of Driver Easy. But with the Pro version it takes just 2 clicks (and you get full support and a 30-day money back guarantee): 1) Download and install Driver Easy. 2) Run Driver Easy and click the Scan Now button. Driver Easy will then scan your computer and detect any problem drivers.

i'm thinking de wees magic

NO ******* WAY OH MY GOD OH MY GOD DE WEES TAPEWORM MAGIC OH MY GOD DE WEES

RINGWORM RINGWORM MAGIC

"Bye-bye, Miss Orenian Pie." It had been two fortnights and some days' change since the mariner unseated his shoddy ferry from twice five miles of sandy shoals. Being that he was, for all intents, the furthest one would hope from a learned man, and by all accounts, a drunk-eyed wastrel, the vessel was no spectacle of watercraft. It did, however, prove ample succor against the whipping of tides and crashing tempests. Soaked in an aerosol spray of water, the old salt's dinghy gondola bobbed on broad Arentanian banks, and oftentimes fell into the tugging ebb and flow of brackish Orenian waters. Village-folk were, as small-people often tend to be, loquacious and firm on superstition, weaving stories of cockatrices which slumbered and existed in the water-body's once sleepy submarine activity; of vengeful visitants and ghost-lords, presences, which glissaded down from the clouds, out from bones and barrows, and gracefully, but with much dread, walked over water and brought with them tempestuous tides. There was no such thing: only tarnished bodies, cloven whole, whose little threads and ribbons of blood fed into a cool pool off the coast of Dobrov which burned red. The ferryman, one Yakov, watched the waters with forlorning eyes. And, so long as he stared, the waters watched back. Perhaps, the townsfolk did not lie. Still, he beat and battered his oars against the little ripples in the ink-black water which curled and combed into the promises of surf which grew to fit into mounting waves which strode into the land. Even small-folk knew, dead men tell no tales.

"Over? Or, not over?" The far-from-literate, by a landslide, Lector Drudo Pasquina arched a quizzical brow, folding down the corners of his tabloid to catch his acquaintance, Lector Dharas, in the corners of his eyes.

"Yes, yes. Touché." From the inner recesses of the earth, Exalted Saint Vladislav Barrow, His Bastardship Lord-Supreme Barrow, purred a low and fathomable purr. He fixed the stem of a martini glass between his knuckles. Shaken, of course; not stirred.