Diogen

— OOC — Information that is only known to Naele's Fjarriagua. Much needed Culture post. ✴ The Tenets ✴ I. The World of Eternal Winter is Naele’s divine vision, where ice reigns unchallenged and life bends to the will of the frost. Strive always toward this end, for it is the holiest of pursuits. Let no flame survive your presence, for only Winter shall endure. ‡ II. A Witch is a shard of the Mother’s own frozen soul, a consecrated vessel of Frost. Serve your Sisters with undivided loyalty, for they are extensions of Naele herself. To betray, harm, or abandon a Sister is the greatest blasphemy, punishable by the forfeiture of your immortal vessel. ‡ III. The coven is your holy family, and Naele is the only Mother you shall ever know. Forsake all ties to the world beyond, for only your Sisters walk with you upon the path of eternal Winter. Trust not the warm-hearted, and hold only your kin close, for they alone share your purpose. ‡ IV. The Words of Naele are sacred, and to heed them is the highest form of worship. Listen for her whispers in the wind and the crack of the ice, for through Skjoldier, she communes with her faithful. Her will is the foundation of your existence, her wisdom the guide for all your steps. ‡ V. The lost souls wandering in the Cold are drawn to Winter’s truth. Seek them out, for they are the forsaken of the mortal realm, ripe to be shepherded into Naele’s fold. Should they submit to Winter’s will, they shall find purpose in serving the eternal frost. ‡ VI. Hunger is the crucible of faith, a sacred trial ordained by Naele to purify your flesh. Let it drive you to hunt and devour the flesh of mortals, for through such feasts, you bring your prey closer to Winter’s embrace. Savor the hunt but guard against Gluttony, for overindulgence dulls your reverence and defiles Naele’s gift. ‡ VII. The Rites and Mysteries of the Cold are not for unworthy eyes. Guard them as holy relics, kept from the profane. Let no knowledge of Winter’s sacred rites pass beyond the coven, for these secrets are Naele’s alone, bestowed only upon those who are devoted to her frozen will. ‡ VIII. Just as a Witch is the embodiment of the biting chill, so too must she be a vessel of Winter’s purest fury. Embrace the Cold in all forms, for it is Naele’s divine will. To feel warmth is to stray from her blessed path; let the ice seep into your bones, casting out weakness with each frozen breath. ‡ IX . The remnants of the fallen are divine gifts, sacred materials with which to honor Naele. Let their blood stain your curses, and allow no part of the flesh to be wasted. Mortals serve Winter even in death, their remains consecrated by the Cold. ‡ X. Discipline is the core of a Witch. Each Sister must be as disciplined as the ice itself, bound to the path of Winter with unwavering devotion. Laziness and disobedience are traits of the weak, and the weak are not fit to serve Naele’s grand design. I. The Enemies of Winter are to be Extinguished. Those who wield flame and warmth in a manner that serves against the expansion of Winter are blasphemous to the Cold. Let no such fire mage, priest of warmth, or sacrilegious servant of that dreaded heat go unchallenged. Extinguish their flames and let their warmth fuel the eternal frost of Winter. ‡ II. Darkness is a Kindred Element. Other creatures of the night and those who embrace decay are not your enemies but your distant kin. While you need not offer friendship, extend them the respect due to those who dwell beyond the light. Their path, while different, serves the same end: to bring about the ruin of mortal warmth. ‡ III. “Holy” Magic is a Cancer to the Frost. These mages and priests represent an affront to the Fjarriagua’s very existence. They are enemies not only to Winter but to the purity of your immortal form. Avoid them when necessary, but do not hesitate to destroy them if the opportunity arises. Let them feel the chill of the Winter’s ire. ‡ IV. Treat Mortals with Cold Indifference. The lives of mortals are fleeting and insignificant; they serve only as prey, tools, or fuel for your power. Engage with them only when it benefits Winter’s dominion or when they may be guided into your fold. Their loyalty to warmth renders them weak. ‡ V. Beware the Lures of Other Darkspawn. Though many are kindred to the night, some dark entities have strayed far from the path of ice and frost. Interact with caution, for they may seek to draw you away from the purity of the Cold. Preserve your sanctity and avoid alliances that risk sullying Winter’s vision. I. Devotion is a Sacred Ritual. Each day, each hunt, each feast is a prayer to the Cold. Your actions are sermons, and your hunts, sacrifices. Let every movement and breath honor the Frost Mother, for she is the eternal winter you serve. ‡ II. Ritualistic Purity is Sacred. Engage in rites of purification to cleanse yourself of warmth and weakness. Submerge your flesh in ice, let your blood run cold, and steel your heart against the temptations of warmth. Through ritual, you find true sanctity. ‡ III. The Devouring of the Fallen is to be Done with Discipline. To consume flesh is a privilege, one not to be sullied by primal urges. Let the body be sanctified in ritual, the bones arranged as holy relics, and the blood drained into ceremonial chalices. Devour the flesh in unison with your Sisters, that you may share in the strength of the hunt as one. ‡ IV. Blood Sacrifice is the Highest Praise. Upon a successful hunt or strife, spill the blood of your enemies upon sacred ice, dedicating their last warmth to Naele. The blood shall freeze within moments, the sacrifice of its warmth as an offering. Credits to Agy & Karim

[!] This is a Prophecy, and may only be experienced by those capable of witnessing it. [Seers, Azdrazi, Witches with Orb, etc.] Odd howling emanated throughout the Northern part of Aevos, followed by loud thuds. The ground almost shaking with each step. You venture farther into the snow, panicked. Escaping from the hellish Kingdom through the gates, as it was all engulfed in snow. The screams of Descendants only muffled by that of the gargantuan. Struggling to make out the direction of the creature, for each step was far too loud. Each step rang within your ears. But you knew you had to run. Thud. Thud. THUD. A gargantuan creature of Frost stood before you, walking on all fours. It stopped, peering down at you. A wave of dread washed over you. A wave of cold- for you knew whatever created it, was one of unholy means. An ear-piercing shriek was let loose, as you began to run once more. Boots digging into the snow beneath, each step felt heavier than the next, until both legs gave out, locked in place. It was then, that you noticed a thick layer of ice encasing your legs, as ice weaved about your form, trailing back towards the heights of the mountains. For a humanoid silhouette stood beside the creature, eyes of piercing azure locked towards your direction. I found him, Mother! Shouted a Witch You wake up.

[!] An eye of Iblees loomed upon the swamps. Steel Haze (Where Truths Meet) Dangers on Aevos are ever present. Along the swamp marshes where the regency meets a small duchy. The legion of Iblees descends down from the north. Leaving behind only the scars of a grand battle between the Old Dark and the Radiant Light of the Templars. Where blades clashed, the Frost Mother Naele spoke in a dreadful tongue. The roadside stop for weary travelers was suddenly plunged into chaos. The miasma of snow roared as the witches weaved great spikes of ice, tearing through nearby structures, parting the very ground that all stood upon. Warlocks and magi flung their spells while the knights of hell skirmish with soldiers. Such was an odd night, for horribly large creations of ice seemed to sprout left and right. The very earth shook, as winds violently picked up. The Mother’s raging heart projecting onto all those that surrounded her; not even the poor demons could see within such a storm, let alone the Descendants they slaughtered. Blinded by the Mother's Rage, the men value the state of their soul over their pride. Two templars stared down the raging storm, venturing in blind. A mighty Bulwark presses on, intent to run its gear heart dry to defend those it considers worthy. A boulder suddenly flew within that storm, crashing onto that Automaton, who stood his ground despite the battering. Where conflicting odds clashed, resolve was tested in each that day. Courage carrying those that remained in the sphere of ice and snow that plagued a road stop in the eastern swamp. The remainder, fled within the Cathedral. Wounded, bleeding out. The Legion's forces regroup as the storm begins to die down. The Light Bearers push in as more ice is weaved around them. Stones turn, the earth splits open. Ravines form as the battle grows more intense, Dividing the two conflicted forces. Battered and wounded, both decide to leave the fray. A dreadful mark on the land We are the Old Dark. Huge shoutout to Reecedh, Publius and Jester for this amazing opportunity!

pls no removing posts & giving a warning to people who dont specify the persona that reacted to the post some people have a reason not to specify the persona thank u

give me my items stop writing lore!!!

♫ ♪ ♬ The Witches of Skjoldenhjold: Chapter I Written by Rheya S. “Grim and frost-forged, she reigns from the heart of winter’s abyss. Under her rule, the witches rise, unbound and unrelenting, sweeping through the lands like a storm of vengeance and power.” Despite the little information known about the Witches of Frost, this book aims to gather all current-known knowledge about the current generation of those that roam within Aevos. It is worth mentioning that the knowledge available on the current-known ranks of the Witches were recovered from their ‘bible’, left behind by a slain witch. What is generally known of the Frost Witches? Tales across cultures speak of countless mythical beings, often depicted as enchanting and enigmatic women. Women, who were capable of deceit. Their gestures, their words, their smiles, almost too perfect. They struck as viciously as their words, capable of shattering the strongest of men, always caught within a horribly unfavorable scenario. Orchestrated by the Witch herself. Yet men, despite them fueling the very existence of a Witch, are not the sole victims of such an irredeemably evil creature. For the women with the most broken of minds, and coldest of hearts, too fell under the spell of the Witch’s beguiling, serpent-like whispers. An almost hypnotic persuasion, records claim. Among these, the Fjarriagua stand out, though what many have failed to realize for generations is that many of these legends are, in fact, varying representations of the frost witches across different societies. The Witches of Frost are voracious entities, their behavior and mindset shaped by the influence of their individual covens. They wield their voices to craft powerful songs imbued with magic, capable of controlling ice and snow or casting malevolent curses. But one remaining coven remained prosperous for many Saint’s years. One, that shifted the very way that the Witches behaved, hunted. What were once beings of pure deception, hidden from the gaze of the living, have now transformed into monstrous forces. No longer content with secrecy, they ride forth like maddened frost-bound marauders, ravaging nations and leaving destruction in their wake, all under the iron rule of a new Witch Queen, leading to their current Golden Age. SKJOLDENHJOLD The Northern Fortress The infamous name of the fortress that now serves as the dark seat of power for the Witches. Within its walls, a ruthless monarchy reigns, led by the tyrant Naele. Under her oppressive rule, the once elusive witches have become a militaristic force, possessing legions of infernal demons and warlocks. Frost Matriarch Naele In the hidden echelons of the cult, the Frost Matriarch stands as a formidable figure, the ultimate authority over both unholy rituals and worldly operations. Esteemed by the Frost Witches as a guiding force, they blend the roles of spiritual sage and strategic leader. While the rest of the cult adheres to a ritualistic dress code, the Sovereign revels in their unique sartorial freedom. Whether choosing robes interwoven with mystical symbols or mantles crafted from the skins of ice-borne creatures, their attire is a deliberate manifestation of their unequaled standing within the order. The signature emblem of the Sovereign remains constant: a circlet, wrought from materials like silver or obsidian, cradling a gem at its center. This is not a mere jewel, but an eternal fragment of ice, extracted from the depths of an age-old glacier. Ensorcelled to remain forever frozen. Abbess Directly beneath the Frost Matriarch, the Abbesses serve as the spiritual caretakers and doctrinal enforcers of the cult. Usually ascending from Motherhood, they are also occasionally drawn from the Fjarriagua, if proven competent in their spiritual and administrative prowess. As the innermost advisors to the Frost Matriarch, these Abbesses are the preeminent Mothers and Witches within the order, each holding sway over a specific sect and entrusted with its teachings, rituals, and disciplinary measures. Their attire is no less significant than their role. Draped in an imposing Habit that obscures them from head to toe, they exude an air of solemn authority. This ceremonial garb may be embroidered with elaborate patterns, each thread and motif capturing the interconnected natures of the Witches, Mothers, and Jokul—key pillars of the cult's theology. The Guimpe, a cloth covering the neck and shoulders, is particularly distinguished: it often features intricate embroidery or designs that mimic patterns of frost, underlining the Abbess's alignment with the wintry elements they revere. Whether it's the crafting of spiritual rituals or the administration of esoteric teachings, the Abbesses function as the bedrock of the Frost Matriarch’s reign, vital in maintaining the order and spiritual coherence of the enigmatic sisterhood. Their garments, embroidered with symbolic artistry, serve not merely as uniform but as a tangible emblem of their elevated standing, and their critical role in the harmonious fusion of the coven’s multiple spiritual dimensions. Nun Devoted adherents to the dark and the spiritual, Nuns serve as the backbone of the coven’s daily operations. Exclusively hailing from the Fjarriagua, these holy women enact the coven’s rituals, guide fledgling members on their journeys, and support the Abbesses in their manifold responsibilities. Their attire, while less ostentatious than that of the Abbesses, remains rich in symbolism and purpose. Forsaking the full cloak worn by their superiors, Nuns are clad in a traditional Habit. The garment's individual elements—the veil, bandeau, coif, and dress—stand out prominently, each contributing to their somber yet purposeful appearance. But unlike a traditional Nun, such pieces of cloth are generally draped around a full plate. A true blend of militaristic values and faith. In lieu of a crucifix or rosary, which would be customary in other religious orders, a shard of ice or a specific cult emblem dangles from their waist. These icy tokens are not mere ornamentation; they serve as a spiritual conduit, drawing upon the cold elemental forces that the coven reveres. Whether involved in ritualistic duties, disseminating teachings to novices, or assisting their spiritual leaders, the Nuns represent the living embodiment of the coven’s faith. Naele’s Chosen Witches, or Witches-to-be brought into the fold. Militaristic in appearance, yet retaining aspects of the faith of their sisterhood. Their attire offers two distinct options, each infused with its own set of significances. Yet whatever it is they choose, such would be draped around a set of armor worn on their person. The first is a straightforward robe, unadorned yet purposeful, cinched at the waist with a tie belt. From this belt dangles either a shard of icicle or the coven’s own emblem, serving as an initial bond to the elemental forces or spiritual tenets they aspire to understand. The second choice is more elaborate, featuring garments in hues revered by the cult—perhaps colors that echo the icy landscapes or celestial entities worshiped by the order. Complementing this ensemble is a special mask, which might either capture the cold, unyielding features of the tyrant they venerate, or illustrate the raw elemental forces that define their lineage and potential roles within the cult. Whether donned in the simpler robe or the more elaborate garb, the attire of the Chosen is designed not just as clothing but as a rite of passage. Whispered Acolyte At the cult's outermost edge dwell the Whispered Acolytes, newcomers whose commitment to the order's mysteries is yet to undergo the crucible of testing. Drawn solely from the Jokul, these aspirants find themselves at the foundation of a rigorous spiritual and unholy training regimen, designed to prepare them for the next stage in their journey: ascending to the status of a Chosen. Their attire is as elemental as their rank, consisting of simple robes devoid of the complex embroideries or mystical symbols that grace the garments of the more advanced members. This sartorial simplicity serves a dual purpose: it underscores their embryonic status within the cult, while also constantly reminding them of the profound journey that lies ahead, replete with challenges and revelations. The attire of the Whispered Acolytes serves not merely as a uniform but as a physical manifestation of their foundational place within the cult's hierarchical tapestry. In this way, each level of the order's structure, as represented by the varying complexity of its attire, functions as both a mirror and a roadmap. What truly is the faith of the Witches? The original verdict on the Fjarriagua’s current faith is generally known to be Ibleesian, yet some knowledgeable sources seem to contest such a claim, believing them to rather follow a sect derived from Iblees. That of a long-gone Lieutenant of the High Hells, hence their now-militaristic approach to growth in the coven. An approach of rapid growth, through the relentless attacks upon Descendantkind, to dig their claws into societies, only to then subjugate them into their new footsoldiers. Granting them, in turn, a large set of numbers and influence. Author’s note: While the information granted in this book is limited, I aim to write a second chapter to it, once more (accurate) information is brought to light. OOC Credits:

THE JØKUL ♫ ♪ ♬ ORIGIN “Bring out yer dead!” The cry rose in the frosted air, evening sun weakly twinkling on the plague-stricken village. Leweth pulled the reins, and the exhausted horses obediently stopped. Behind him, masked villagers with dead eyes and shaky limbs loaded their relatives and neighbours onto the cart. He whipped the reins, and the horses moved on down the path. They were being taken to the forest - there was a lake there, one deep enough to dump the dead in. It was naturally bowl-shaped, too, and the winter was not yet so deep that it had frozen over. When the ice formed, the diseased corpses would be hidden away beneath metres of frozen ice, out of mind and sight. The cart arrived, and with a grunt, he hopped out. He looked to the lake and saw a lone old woman sitting on the far shore. She was eating something, though he could not see exactly what. He called out - “‘Lo?” - but there was no response. Unease coiled through him. These woods were not the sort to hang around in; he was paid well for the risks he took, and wasn’t unfamiliar with danger, so he began trekking around the lake, sword gripped tight in hand. Why a lone hag would be out here by a lake of corpses, snacking on some meat, was beyond him. She stood. He was about ten metres from her now, and as her blue eyes met his, he froze in terror.. For she had not skin but instead ice, and she ate not cattle but man. Within an instant, he had dropped his sword and turned - to run - but his legs were frozen. Not literally - he could feel them shaking - but fear kept him rooted to the spot. The Fjaarriagua spoke, and the wind whispered her deal to the man. “Continue bringing your corpses - my feasts - and I will spare you.” Leweth could not move. He could not breathe. He could not think. A sword - his own, he would realise afterwards, wielded by the witch - slid across his right hand, sending his fingers falling into the snow. He let out a howl of pain, stumbled forth, clutched his bleeding hand tight against his clothes, and turned around for fear- She was gone. So were his fingers. ———«»————————————«»————————————«»——— Every day, he lugged his macabre cargo. Every night, he left them by the side of the lake. Every morning, he returned to find the pile vanished. This, Leweth thought on one of his trips, is how men go to hell. Sometimes, he’d find golden coins where the bodies had been dumped - small piles of minas, left here and there as apparent thanks, though Leweth figured that it was more likely encouragement to keep on. After many months, the plague slowly receded. The cart Leweth took was lighter and lighter every day, until one day he rode his cart through the village, hoarsely calling out, “Bring out yer dead, bring out yer dead..” His journey through the village was uninterrupted. There were no corpses, and though others rejoiced, Leweth feared. Without corpses, he could provide no food for the witch. What will she do to me? Will she eat me, as she did the others? He kept on, deep into the forest. ———«»————————————«»————————————«»——— Leweth waited by the lake, shivering - for reasons beyond the cold. Every few minutes, he’d stand, muttering to himself, ‘You’re mad, she’ll take you instead of them, she’ll gut you, she’s a WITCH..’ Then he’d sit. Why that was he could not say. Almost an hour passed, and the sun drew low. Convincing himself she wasn’t coming, he stood, and as he moved to the horses, a hiss drew deep through the air, chilled the bone and froze the mind.. “Where is my feast? Leweth turned and saw her standing directly behind him. He opened his mouth to reply, but found that he could not - fear had frozen his throat. The storm blew fierce. Hail whipped through the air. “Where is it?” The undead witch grasped his neck and yanked him as a father might a child - sending him sprawling into the snow. He coughed, spluttered, tried to pull himself away - but found that he now lay by the frozen lake. Any further back and he’d be dipping in the freezing cold water with the piles of corpses at the bottom. The Fjarriagua grasped his collar and wrenched him to his feet, snarling down, bloody teeth baring wide for him to see. Leweth whimpered fear, blubbered some wretched explanation, but her anger could not be satiated. One slice, and her blade removed his arm - as she kicked him into the lake. Leweth plunged into the freezing waters. His body went still with the shock of the cold, and he sank into the depths. ———«»————————————«»————————————«»——— The witch gnawed on his arm, and reconsidered. . . .The man served well whilst he still could. The plague ending was not his fault. She looked through the clear water and saw his body, resting with the other corpses - still, but not quite dead. She felt no guilt, nor sorrow, only reconsideration. Maybe he can still serve. There are always other uses. There was a click in the cogs of her mind, and the abomination smiled - a terrible smile. She plunged down, retrieved him from the lake, and started dragging his body through the woods to her lair. There were always other uses. ———«»————————————«»———————————«»——— It was there, at that foul lair, that the first Jøkul was created. She laid him out on the table, crusted with dried blood, and grated her frozen teeth together - before drawing her malign power through her, etching a mark onto the nape of the near-dead Leweth.. The magic infused itself into Leweth, a fraction of her being given to his, and the eyes of Leweth flew open, ice-blue - a spasm of cold running through what passed for the Jøkul’s damned soul. EXPLANATION MARKING The process of creating a Jøkul is simple; a Mother etches a brand into the flesh of a Descendant (the design being up to the choice of the brander), like she would to create a new Fjarriagua. For the Mark of a Fjarriagua is the same to both her and the Jøkul- the latter being lesser in nature. After initial bleeding, the blood freezes over; the design is permanently marked into the skin of the Jøkul, unfreezing, a curse upon the afflicted. This marking gives them access to numerous abilities, and causes minor physical differences. The main impact of the curse, however, is its need for fuel. The icy brand feeds off the warmth of the marked Jøkul - starting with innate warmth, after [2] OOC weeks, the Jøkul must replenish their Warmth via draining others of theirs. The Jøkul are a Feat; they are not undead, and are considered a dark magick in the context of interactions with Holy magicks and other forms of lore. The Jøkul dislike all forms of food that are not raw meat. They are by no means incapable of eating cooked meat or plants, but they cause the Jøkul minor discomfort. The mark of ice, frozen into their skin, induces a constant chilly feeling in the Jøkul and drains at the heat of their body, which leads them to strive for Warmth - unless the mark is purged, the hunger for Warmth is unending, utterly insatiable, and is the cause for the Warmth mechanics noted below. The Mark of the Fjarriagua being the same to both her and the Jøkul, such follows the same process of a Fjarriagua. Only a Mother may create a new Jøkul, although a Fjarriagua with a valid TA may have that Jøkul transferred under them. Requiring the Jøkul, upon FA-creation, to have their respective Fjarriagua throw their TA, with the cursing Mother's player to mention that they cursed in a reply, only putting the respective Fjarriagua on cooldown and not the Mother. Should the Mother instead have cursed the Jøkul and put them under her own TA, then that Mother is put on cooldown. A Fjarriagua requires a TA to possess a Jøkul, and can have a maximum of [2]. A Mother can have a maximum of [3]. Fjarriagua can only create [1] Jokul per OOC week. Any Fjarriagua may transfer a Jøkul from their TA to another's TA by sreqing. Jøkul is incompatible with Corcitura, Heraldry, and other similar feats. To become a Jøkul, one must have a soul unclaimed by any deity (which excludes Azdrazi, Machine Spirits, etc. from getting Jøkul); in other words, Descendants, Kha, Klones and Musin can become Jøkul - there is no gender restriction. When a Jøkul PK’s, the slot is freed up for the Fjarriagua/Mother. A Fjarriagua/Mother may also contact LT to remove someone from their slots if they’ve gone inactive, essentially Exiling the persona. Klones are capable of gaining the FA, though Machine Spirits cannot. The mark, curse, abilities, and Warmth mechanics, carry onto every Klone. Characters under the age of 16 are incapable of gaining this feat. CAs are incapable of gaining this FA. OOC consent is required to mark someone, though IRP consent is not. Jøkul may ascend to Fjarriagua should they be female at a minimum of possessing the FA for [1] total week, allowing them to bypass the Fledgling state of Fjarriagua. They also have to link their FA in their CA post to have it denied and a slot freed up for whoever they were bound to. MENTALITY The Jøkul live an accursed life. The mark of the Fjarriagua placed on them ravages not just the body, but also the mind - madness encroaches upon them with every waking hour, battling their humanity into a slow, frozen death. Warmth, though an addictive necessity for the Jøkul, is profoundly uncomfortable to experience; it satiates the curse, yet burns painfully at their skin. Depression is not an uncommon malady amongst the Jøkul, nor is loneliness or isolation. They tend to bind themselves closely to their new frozen kin, seeing them as their blood-bound family. To protect their own coven is above all- yet even above that, comes the will of the Fjarriagua that bound that Jøkul, seemingly bending the soldier's will to her very own. Having no Warmth directly mutates their mind. The Jøkul obsess over Warmth, their ravenous hunger for it utterly insatiable - and when a Jøkul falls below [3] units of Warmth, they fall prone to sporadic bursts of rage, lashing out at minor inconveniences and bearing a crippled mental stability. The mind of the Jøkul is kept whole and sane via their maintaining their Warmth. Ignoring their need for Warmth causes a dangerous, angered spiral into insanity - until their Warmth is restored. [3] units of Warmth is the threshold for the beginning of this mental decline. Each Jøkul may roleplay this as they see fit for their character. How the Jøkul themselves view the world is left up to them; it is, no doubt, affected by their new curse, but each player is free to decide how they interact with, for example, dark creatures, or Canonists. Jøkul are incapable of feeling romantic and sexual attraction towards their markers and others due to the madness that has overtaken them. They are thus incapable of sexual FTB. The disconnect in their mind that causes them to be unable to feel romantic and sexual attraction has caused a rippling effect that makes even pursuing something close to the topic, even for the manipulation of others to steal their Warmth, an aversive pathway and will never be carried out. The coven to them becomes their family, their friendly attachments with those outside muffled. To serve their coven is above all, going as far as to put their life on the line for their own. The Fjarriagua that bound the Jøkul, as well as the Mother that inflicted that curse, may issue commands to the Jøkul, who will find their very will bend to such. The commands must not be sexual nor romantic in nature, nor may they force a Jøkul to kill themselves. PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION The appearance of a Jøkul is determined by the stage of their Warmth. As the curse drains it away, their body begins to take on more of a frostbitten appearance; without replenishment - such as not replenishing their Warmth through Cold Touch, or by avoiding raw flesh and meats - their frozen nature becomes all too apparent on their skin. The Jøkul possess [6] Warmth units. At [5+] Warmth units, their appearance is fully mundane, save the characteristic blue eyes of the Jøkul. At [4] Warmth units, a slight discolouration on parts of their bodies might be noted - E.G, their fingers, ears and lips. At [3] Warmth units, mild patches of discoloration appear throughout their skin - as if bruised. Their skin is cold to the touch. At [2] Warmth units, they appear mildly frostbitten. At [1] Warmth unit, the frostbite looks severe in nature, with cracks of ice akin to glass on their skin. At [0] Warmth units, they appear ghoulish - as if between life and death. Their body appears frostbitten unto death, their cheeks turned inwards, eyes radiating in a dim, blue glow. Beyond physical appearance, the Jøkul gain no physical boons of strength from the curse. Their heart beats slightly slower, and their blood therefore bleeds somewhat slower, 1/3rd of the pace of a normal descendant. They maintain the same general appearance as prior to their being cursed, though they may have somewhat sunken or pale skin, or a thin figure. The Jøkul appear frostbitten if [2] OOC weeks are spent without replenishing warmth. The Jøkul gain immunity to the cold - beyond losing warmth, a Jøkul will never suffer adverse effects akin to hypothermia from cold conditions. This permits them to wear numbingly cold armour. The Jøkul are affected normally by alchemical potions and substances. A gnawing hunger overtakes them, one striving for Warmth. Through either stealing it from Descendants (under Abilities section), or other means, they may only temporarily satiate it, although their depthless hunger for it may never be fully quelled, only worsening the longer they go without it. Their slower breathing does not stop them from drowning. Having a portion of their soul frozen, the Jøkul age slower than the typical Descendant, living twice longer than their race. Due to the sheer numbers of the Jøkul, the intensive draining of their spells, while Warmth mechanic being tied to both their feeding and their abilities, the Jøkul may feast upon raw flesh and meat out of combat to regain their Warmth following the next OOC day. Cold Touch, on the other hand, serves as a combative option for such. ABILITIES The curse does not come without gifts. Via utilising their innate Warmth as fuel, the Jøkul are blessed with magickal abilities that serve to protect themselves, the Fjarriagua, and fight those who would threaten them. TELLS Harnessing the ability of the Jøkul requires a tell of some sort. Some examples are: Flakes of ice breaking off their skin. An azure glow within their eyes. Breath emitting fog, as if exhaling within an icy region. Veins coursing in a visible blue, as if filled with ice. Tells are required to cast. Jøkul cannot cast without using a tell/tells. The Jøkul have aesthetic freedom in their tells, though they must be adherent to the theme and niche/aesthetic; you can emote wintry breath, but you can’t emote fire sparking from your fingertips. Cold Touch - [Combat | Non-Combat] [4-6] Over the course of [4] emotes, via maintaining contact with a Descendant or a living creature, the Jøkul may steal their Warmth to themselves. On the [2]nd emote, the body of the victim begins to feel chilly; On the [3]rd emote, the victim's body begin to ache, with bruises and the traits of frostbite developing on their skin; On the [4]th emote, the victim loses consciousness, their body rendered frostbitten, though not yet to a critical extent; On the [5]th emote, the body of the victim is frostbitten to a critical extent; And on the [6]th emote, the victim loses all innate warmth within their body, fully feeding the creature [6] units of Warmth, essentially killing them. Each emote of Cold Touch fills up [1] unit of Warmth. Breaking physical touch will interrupt the spell, although may be resumed should the Jøkul manage to grasp the victim once more. Cold Touch may only be performed on playable personas of organic matter. This means that Homunculi (though not Machine Spirits) can be affected by it. This ability may not be used on one of their own people (Fjarriagua, Mother) for they lack the innate Warmth to be sapped. However, it may be used on other Jøkul, as a method of stealing what little warmth they have from each other for themselves. The final emote of Cold Touch will result in the death of the victim. Cold Touch works through cloth, though not through any form of substantial clothing/armour. In the case of out of combat capture RP, they may ask the victim for consent to speed up the emote count. Ice Manipulation - [Non-Combat] The Jøkul find themselves capable, to a simplistic degree, of conjuring and bending the ice around them, to a [2x2x2] area. Where a Fjarriagua may create complex and intricate designs - for example, an ornate necklace made of ice, Jøkul may instead create the rough shape of a necklace, with little to no intricacy. Should the Jøkul be near a Fjarriagua Altar, they will find their capability increased, permitting them to manipulate a [4x2x2] instead. Warmth Units required: [0] This ability is flavour. This cannot be used in combat, or to benefit combat scenarios; E.G, the Jøkul are incapable of rendering a portion of the floor ice and therefore slippery to trip opponents up. The Jøkul may bend or conjure ice around them out of combat, though only to a basic level of detail. This spell does not work whatsoever in dry/hot climates, such as deserts, volcanoes, jungles. Call of Frost - [Combat] [2] Over the span of [2] emotes ([1] emote to connect, [1] emote to cast) the Jøkul may conjure a weapon or tool made of ice, no bigger than the size of a warhammer. Though the weapon would look akin to ice, it would possess the durability and strength of ferrum. Despite their having ferrum durability, if exposed to flame, the weapon would melt as if made of ice. Warmth Units required: -One-handed weapon or tool: [1] -Two-handed weapon or tool: [2] Weapons created by Call of Frost are as durable and tough as ferrum. A hot climate is not enough to melt the creations of Call of Frost. However, any form of direct heat, whether mundane or magickal, that makes contact with the weapon will melt it similarly to melting ice with fire. Aesthetic freedom in the creation of these tools/weaponry is permitted; for example, Jøkul are capable of pulling an ice weapon out of their chest, or shaping a weapon out of nearby ice, etc. The creation of Arrows, Bolts and other small munitions are summoned in a bundle of [3]. For all forms of lore interaction, these weapons are considered magickal ice. Frost Mending - [Combat/Non-Combat] [2] Over the span of [2] emotes, the Jøkul may conjure stacks of ice and snow to stack them on a wound in order to temporarily cut off blood loss, until they get adequate help to heal themselves. This spell does not heal tissue but rather seals it until proper aid is given - a seal that may easily be broken should they be struck once more. Warmth Units required: Minor wounds (no more than 2 inches wide & 1 inch deep): [2] Moderate wounds (no more than a laceration or appendage loss): [3] This is, essentially, a bandaid - it does not permanently heal wounds. Continued fighting and swift movements will cause the wound to reopen. Frost Mending does not work on lethal wounds - for instance, a gash in the neck - and it cannot be used to reattach limbs (though minor reattachments such as the finger or ear is permitted). Frost Mending only works on their kin; Jøkul, Mothers, and Fjarriagua. Full focus is required, making them vulnerable for [2] emotes. Disperse - [Non-Combat] Capable of partaking in rituals with their kin, the Jøkul - harboring their Warmth - max rapidly expel it during a ritual, using it as a form of fuel, to grant their Greaters their energy. The use of such will quickly strip them of their mundane appearance, making them visibly look frostbitten, as they lost their Warmth. Requiring them to sap once more, their craving worsened. Warmth Slots required: [6] Disperse can only be used in rituals, in order for a Jøkul to partake in a ritual, fully using the all the [6] Warmth slots up. Should the Jøkul not have [6] Warmth harbored in them, they may not partake in a ritual. The Jøkul may not host a ritual themselves, but may join in and aid. Their Warmth cravings are intensified after the end of the ritual, as they are turned fully frostbitten in appearance. Follows all rules and redlines of the ritual in question. WEAKNESSES The Jøkul are born of cold - they bear its weaknesses. Fire and aurum is their undoing. AURUM, due to the bound nature of their soul, causes both pain and discomfort to the Jøkul. Upon being deeply struck by Aurum, their Warmth begins to leak out; when the Jøkul receive a deep wound from an Aurum weapon, their Warmth begins to leak out at a rate of [1] Warmth unit per emote. FIRE is extremely detrimental to their being, due to possessing a body claimed by Frost. Incapacitating them until they pat them out of their body. Damage taken by flame causes the Jokul to be unable to cast new magicks or attack. A dedicated emote must be given to putting the fire out; in this emote, they may move away or flee, but cannot cast, or attack. Deep stabs caused by Aurum drain their Warmth by [1] unit each deep wound, inducing them to rapidly turn to their more horrifying physical turn. This also brings with it the detrimental mental effects. Aurum cannot reduce Warmth units below [0]. REVERSION The Mark is not a permanent fixture upon their soul. It comes with a heavy cost; mental instability, the probable loss of friends and family, the harsh treatment they may receive from the Fjarriagua, their being outcasted from society - any one of these things, pushed to the extremes, is enough to break a man. And broken servants serve no purpose. There are two ways to revert a Jøkul; via Purging, and via Exile. Purging must be conducted in a hot climate - a desert, or a jungle, for example. The aid of a deific magic with purging capabilities is required, such as a Druid through Blight Healing, a Shaman, and so forth. The rite of Purging is conducted upon the Jøkul, and the Jøkul is free of the curse. An affinity with warmth remains, even beyond the expulsion of the Mark; a hangover from the once-addiction. Exile, on the other hand, is a far more brutal and traumatic method of disconnection. A Mother, or the overseeing Fjarriagua who the Jøkul is bound to, may forcibly rip the Mark out of the soul of the Jøkul - a traumatic process for the Jøkul, who will find themselves forcibly ripped from that which at once empowers and curses them. Whilst Purging requires OOC consent, Exile does not. Purging leaves a Jøkul with a lingering love of warmth and hot temperatures, though this is mainly flavour for the player to interpret as they see fit. Exile can only be conducted by a Mother, or by the Fjarriagua who originally bound the Jøkul; whilst Fjarriagua can only Exile those who they have Marked, Mothers can Exile any Jøkul of their choosing. Exile can only be done out of combat, and only on a restrained Jøkul. Exile is a traumatic process for the Jøkul - they will experience a deep period of mental instability; grief, a feeling of the loss of family, or simple depression are all not unusual. Jøkul who are Exiled, unlike those who are Purged, find no affinity for the heat, it causing them mild discomfort. PURPOSE Since this is our first major lore submission, we're probably missing a lot of clarification redlines, or there may be a contradiction/problem somewhere in here. Please take a look and drop feedback/thoughts below. Any improvements suggested would be a big help, and we'd very much appreciate it, since we're not trying to sneak anything by - any loopholes/gaps/contradictions are accidental, so do please help me remove them. We hope it’s good. We wrote it because we love the niche and enjoyed the lorewriting. There’s a lack of Knights-From-The-Far-North personas, basically because the Fjarriagua is locked to female personas; this lorepiece helps to open up the niche to male personas and a larger playerbase whilst keeping them largely subservient to the Fjarriagua, and, specifically, the Mothers. A sub-lorepiece for the Fjarriagua is necessary, and an often overlooked aspect of why the Fjarriagua have struggled in the past is because they haven't had an available sub-magic, unlike nearly every other dark CA. This piece also fixes that. (Also, apologies to LT - this was supposed to be published in the new month, but a scheduling conflict came up.) CREDITS

really sorry but we're self-denying this to repost this under my account with changes as satinkira is on a hiatus for a while due to school/irl related stuff and is unable to apply any changes for a while

Naele read the missive with confusion, before tossing it over towards her witches that sat beside her. “Yes, yes, Yera is innocent indeed. Not a single drop of darkspawn support in her being. The many meetings with the Liches were only to insult them. What a hero.”

Naele read the missive, and blinked. She was confused. Waving that piece of paper about to her Witches. “Look, the intelligence of a descendant. We became a threat- the first thing they do is attack inactives sites of the dead Gashadokuro within the swamp.” She cackled, showing it to Kiel and Jorogumo. ”Are they directionally incompetent to reach the north or is beating that dead skeleton’s ruins how they retaliate?”

Naele watched two of the captives get thrown out of their walls, to fight another day. "They have failed their own, and thus shall forever live tormented by such, for their souls are now damned by Iblees."

Naele, whose now cursed soul saw Numendil as her allies, frowned at the sight of the missive. "These damned Darkspawn. We killed three of them, and they only managed to get two of ours. They almost kidnapped the princess as well- poor soul, let us hope the medics brought her back from the brink of death. I will kill all Darkspawn."

[!] A missive was sent back. Such a missive portrayed the eye of Iblees. Do not test me. Signed, Naele, The Everlasting Frost, Queen of the Icy Tomb, Empress of Eternal Winter, Sovereign of the Frozen Wastes, Mistress of the Glacial Realm, Enchantress of the Eternal Blizzard, Keeper of the Frozen Flame, Vanquisher of Men, Warden of the Undead Ice, Bane of Mortal Men, Devourer of Souls, The Icy Cannibal Queen, Mistress of the Frostbitten Dead, Sentinel of the Glacial Fortress, Undying Matriarch of the North, Herald of the Endless Night, Frostfire Witch, Guardian of the Frozen Realm, Monarch of the Glacial Night, Slayer of the Patriarchs, Chosen of the Eternal Winter, Champion of the Frozen Plains, Protector of the Undying North, Weaver of the Icy Web, Rider of the Blizzard Winds, Bringer of the Glacial Dawn, Builder of the Frozen Cities, Seeker of the Icy Throne, Keeper of the Glowing Blue Flame, Mistress of the Frostfire Throne, High Priestess of the Glacial Circle, Archon of the Frozen Shadows, Mistress of the Frostbitten Peaks, Empress of the Icy Abyss, Lady of the Frozen Sepulchre, Scourge of the Living, Mistress of the Never-Ending Winter, Mistress of the Glacial Horde, Bearer of the Frostfire Scepter, Harbinger of the Frozen Dawn, Ruler of the Glacial Wilderness, Banshee of the Icy Moors, Protector of the Icebound Lands, Master of the Glacial Spirits, Weaver of the Frostbound Spells, Guardian of the Frozen Depths, Mistress of the Winter Veil, Monarch of the Glacial Depths, Eternal Keeper of the Frostbound, Sentinel of the Frozen Realms, High Queen of the Frozen Shadows, Mistress of the Frostfire Caverns, Sovereign of the Icy Domain, Monarch of the Glacial Expanse, Mistress of the Frozen Dead, Keeper of the Icy Beacon, Herald of the Frostfire Storm, Vanquisher of the Frozen Spirits, Protector of the Glacial Sanctum, Warden of the Frostbitten Lands, Mistress of the Frozen Dawn, Ruler of the Glacial Veil, Mistress of the Frostbound Abyss, Archon of the Icy Shadows, Empress of the Frozen Stars, Queen of the Frostfire Realm, Mistress of the Icy Horizon, Sentinel of the Glacial Wastes, Keeper of the Frozen Light, Protector of the Icy Halls, Mistress of the Frostbound Keep, Guardian of the Frozen Citadel, Sovereign of the Glacial Sanctum, Mistress of the Frostfire Throne, Archon of the Frozen Dawn, Queen of the Icy Realm, Mistress of the Glacial Spire, Warden of the Frozen Abyss, Guardian of the Glacial Throne, Mistress of the Frostbound Depths, Protector of the Frozen Light, Keeper of the Icy Embrace, Monarch of the Glacial Dawn, Sovereign of the Frozen Wastes, Mistress of the Frostfire Fortress, Empress of the Icy Dominion, High Queen of the Frozen Expanse, Sentinel of the Glacial Night, Mistress of the Frostbound Realm, Guardian of the Icy Veil, Protector of the Frozen Throne, Mistress of the Glacial Depths, Ruler of the Frostfire Empire, Keeper of the Icy Embrace, Monarch of the Glacial Expanse, Sovereign of the Frozen Stars, Mistress of the Frostfire Dominion, Archon of the Icy Depths, Queen of the Glacial Shadows, Mistress of the Frozen Dawn, Warden of the Frostbound Lands, Protector of the Icy Halls, Guardian of the Glacial Throne, Sovereign of the Frozen Realm, Mistress of the Frostfire Abyss, and many more