Xx_BloodStalk_xX

Amongst the many cats moving about the common room, there was an elf that bore bright robes that stood above them. He'd lower himself to a knee, the housepets flocking to him once he had placed down a large silver tray of food. He'd remain silent, watching them eat, noting how quiet the room was.

And the Seven aligned, like a long snake of fate, bound to slither.

The Great Sage perks up from the lower-levels of his ancient shrine as the bell is rung, peeking out to see a large shadowy figure leaving the altar. He'd quickly scramble to his offering box, letting out a monkey-like scree as he held up a wrapped Krugmas gift. "Haha! A gift fer me, it is!" He said, hugging it close to his chest. "Mus' be 'cause t'is one was such a good spirit t'is year!" The monkey's hands moved in a blur, sending tear after tear of the parchment behind him, revealing a multicolored box with a jagged lever. "Huh?" Tilting his head. "Anot'er box, it was." He said to himself as he shook the strange contraption close to his ear. Whilst he did this, a small tag plucked out from the bottom. Reading it, it said; TO CHIMP, FROM OWL. TURN FOR A SURPRISE!! "A surprise?!" He beamed, those glowing eyes flickering. It seems that 'chimp' had forgotten the identity of his avian enemy. Quickly beginning to wind the crank in a circular motion, a light tune grew out from the box, and the monkey hummed along to it. The box's panels quickly opened, and the simian spirit glanced into its dark hole before being met with the flat knuckles of a boxing glove - pushed into his rubbery skull with a large spring. The monkey dropped the box onto the ground, his head comically misshapen and sunken inward with the imprint of the glove bending his face. It took him a few moments to process what had went wrong, out of denial or something else, and it slowly let out a murmur; ".. Bah Humkrug."

MC Name: Xx_BloodStalk_xX Discord: bldstlk#6616 Image: Description of Image: Faded cave painting on vanilla stone texture block Dimensions: 1x1

A CALL TO ANSWER TO MONARCHS, LORDS, AND THE LIKE, Take heed, for I have awoken in the husk of a Dark Lord. The grey skies over my lands have cleared, and my mind followed. Yet my agenda is not to spread fear and sorrow as my predecessor once did. Following the trials of my nameday I have been studying you. Your people, your customs, and your history. I aim to leave my land and enter a pilgrimage about the continent. To how I intend to do this be not your concern, save to my end. A prophecy has dawned upon my clan, and in this prognostication I foresaw five figures amidst devastated lands. Four followed the One, and in their wake came light. Hope, in the form of what you would call heroes. It is a tale passed down through the generations until it had found me, the fifth. I come to find these four, so I beseech you; should you answer the call, garner to me your most capable warriors so that I may edify your champions. Be they orc or man, dwarf or elf, I mind not. I would teach them my ancient arts of my clan, and guide them to the dawn. Under the light of the Crescent Sun, I seek the Four Chosen Ones to claim themselves worthy of my clan's titles. DULY SIGNED, Lord of Edenia, ꀸꍏꍟ꒒'ꍏᐯꍟꀘ

D A R K L O R D ━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ๑ ┗━━━━━━━━━━━ "The day is coming. This Lord's death. He does not belong here. He too, shall fade with the end of a new era." I do not belong in this era. Aye, he's right. Going to see Asger was a bad idea, despite how much it satiated by sentimental cravings. The curse burns what feeling I have left. The Lord mused, resting his back against the his seat. Grey tubes stuck to his body filtered black sludge through his torso. Not a drop of blood was left in his body. A hand was slowly lifted from the arm of his wheelchair, though he could only see half of it. It seems I've begun to lose my sight. I don't have much time. I hope they come soon. He was but a weathered old man bound to this chair now, his thinning grey hair shrouding most of his face, including that blinded eye which had become a pitch black. Like a pit without a bottom, there would be more in his gaze were there no eye at all. A line of light cracked into the room as two doors were slowly pushed open, illuminating the Lord to the world and causing him to briefly recoil at it. "As you've commanded, all of your servants have been asked to pack their things and leave. They've been relieved of their duties." A faceless figure said, not but a mere shadow in the doorway. The old man nodded, briefly lifting a twitching finger. "Good. You may go as well." - "I'm sorry?" They asked. "I'm afraid I do not understand. I'm to be fired as well? Why? With all due respect, you require help." At these words did the elder finally lift his head, his dry lips thinning at those words, thin enough for his lips to draw that aforementioned substance in place of natural ichor. "I require no servants. Not anymore. Begone!" He commanded with a flick of his hand, for any more he could not manage. The figure ahead of him froze, remaining silent for a while before offering a silent bow and leaving the Lord to fester alone. Minutes would past, then hours, in the stone chambers. The hours became days, plenty monotonous time wasted to writhe in a heap of regret. Fortunately there was no more need for the Lord to eat, for he had no stomach to put such things in anymore. He merely sat, and waited. And in the midst of his sleep did he hear a sudden bell. That sense of longing briefly caused him to think that it was in his head, that noise, but a moment to stir awake caused him to rise as much as his weathered posture could allow it. Frail, trembling hands grasped at the frames of his wheels and each spun caused his nerves to burn. Though eventually he made it to the gates, to which he was greeted by a light. A figure much taller, and much brighter. "I'm here, Dael. Are you ready for-" They were almost immediately interrupted by him. "No, we won't be doing that today. The truth is, I'm dying. The curse is spreading faster than I anticipated. We've not time. We must wake Him early." He briefly explained. The newcomer was clearly taken aback, but eventually was convinced to journey into the inner-chambers of the Dark Lord. Delving deep into the halls of his clan the pair disappeared into the darkness together. Before them was a long cylinder of glass encasing a humanoid figure - whatever being within seeming to float within the green bile that filled the container, whether it was their home or a prison was not sure, even to the newcomer. What was he to call him? A son, or merely a second chance? For having created him, even he was not aware. He had spent the last of his days, all those decades, for this moment here. To ensure that the one before him would do well in his place. She glanced down to the elder, looking on with a furrowed brow. "What am I to do?" She asked. "Pull the chain and drain the fluid. I will do the rest." He said, and his hand came close to reach for the katana on his hip, the belt he used to carry it in no longer fitting his shrunken form. How he had withered away, he thought. The same unholy blade that he swore never to draw again, the same blade that cursed him in the first place. The same blade that would lead him to salvation. "At the very least," He started, placing his hand upon his hilt. Though there was a pause. In that pause, no life flashed before his eyes, as the rumors of adventurers told. Perhaps that was because he was not truly at the end, or perhaps it was merely a fallacy after all. Nevertheless he gazed into his past, finding what most people would. People he's lost, or those that lost him and would lose him after today. "At the very least, I wanted to finish my goodbyes." There was no time to linger on in melancholy, no time. It was sudden, just like death should be. "Release Him." He said, unsheathing the blade - its metal forcing out a hissing screech that rattled the framework of the laboratory. I am unsure if we will share thoughts after the merge, but I leave this message for you. You will not be alone, my boy. I've prepared everything for you. Food, shelter, repute, and comradery. All this for you. My first and final birthday gift. Though you will miss me, know that with you I am eternal. And as long as there is darkness in the heart of man, Dark Dael will always be here. At the moment the chain was pulled and that bile did begin to flush out of the tube, so did the Dark Lord thrust his own blade into his chest. Black sludge suddenly sprayed from his body, a cry of pain coming from him as he soon grew into ruin. His skin was first, flaking away and decomposing as his innards or lack thereof dissipated into a solid black mist. It was taken shape, and following the currents of the winds it came to the falling creature within the glass. For a moment the mist rivalled matter, order and everything else balance beheld to stop this ritual from proceeding. It was not enough, and in the moment after he was gone. All that remained was his wheelchair, and his companion. The companion looked on in horror, having watched a forgotten old man disappear in front of her eyes. Though those eyes, in their light, fell upon the figure within the glass. She was supposed to release him now, she would but her movements were slow. And as she came to meet hand upon glass, another hand came to meet her own palm. Alive? The thing inside was breathing. Living. Her face came closer to peer into the muddy glass stained with brine, to get a better look at what was inside. It would gaze back. A creature sharing the man's dull emerald gaze. Though it did not just come in a single pair, for three eyes in total came to meet her own. She shot backwards as the creature escaped, their six-eared form slowly stepping out, bare feet stepping upon what remained of that green fluid. It reminded her of something past. Something that should never be unsealed, no matter what. An old man's worthless dream, a chance at something pious. A wish to see something of his make persist in the next era. A line one could not cross, not even someone of his moniker. This was what an entire life had lead to. Abhorrent and terrible to look at, it was. But look away she could not bring herself to. In this silence to which the two figures stared at each other words were finally spoken. Only by her, for the other knew not how to speak. "What have you become?" . . . "Who are you?"

im curious

fav warframe, primary, secondary, and melee in warframe rn? don't pick multiple options for each one u gotta give me a straight answer bro

The children of the Vale gathered 'round an old 'ame, weathered by time and half of his gaze shrouded by long greying hairs. A twirling staff of mahogany rested within his wrinkled hand, his frame moving back and forth upon his rocking chair, creaking with each second. The children sat around him and listened to his many tales, things of heroism, beasts, and the fantastic tales of their kin's history. Though one mischievous child thought it best to continue prodding at the one sitting in front of him. They asked them to stop, but they persisted. The old 'ame had not noticed until they grew too loud, to which he said: "You'd best behave, oem'ii. Lest we take you to meet the Great Sage." The child scoffed, dismissing the elf's claims. "The Great Sage isn't real!" They insisted. The elder rocked back in amusement, a hand coming forward to lightly brush the front of their beard. "Is that so? Nay, the Great Sage is very much real, I assure you. Once, he held shrines across the realm. He even frequented our home, once. Though the Greenblades thought it best to cast him out. And he took his shrine with him!.. perhaps that'll be our next story." A small hand raised, and a child spoke up. "The Great Sage! What does he do?" The elder stopped his chair, pressing his feet against the floor and slowly leaned in. "He takes in bad children, and turns them into mushrooms!" They said with widened eyes. Then, they leant back, looking off to the side. "Or.. does he make you dance to death?" Another dismissive shrug left one of them. "I told you it's not real!" They said, to which the elder suddenly shouted. "He's very real, I tell you! Very real indeed." A curious boy soon asked; "Then where is his shrine?" To which another quickly spoke up. "It's not his shrine! They stole it! Stole it from the Mani, he did!" There was another bout of arguing before the elder slammed his staff onto the ground. "Silence! I'll tell you well. The Great Sage took his statue and left, flew up into the air, he did! In attempt to mingle with his own kind. It seems he grew tired of harassing us mortals, so he attempted to go back home." Just like the elder had spoke - within a flying statue laid a spirit of the woods, thrashing about the interior of their shrine. "Ow, ow, ow!" The bandaged monkey rubbed its aching head, screaming as it plummeted towards the ground. Then, with a crash, a flash of light entered the woods - leaking magic about the area. After the statue had sunk into the earth, a few boards of wood pried open to have that little thing flop out, rolling onto its rump. It looked around, and quickly beamed, leaping up and down as it scanned the forest about it. "I made it, I made it! Made it back home, I did!" But it was wrong, yet how could one tell a single forest from another, should the trees look the same? "Come on out, everyone!" They called. Soon, the forest erupted in a symphony of laughter. "The crash had merged our realm with the Sage's realm. In their effort to get home, they had cursed the forest surrounding our home!" The elder explained. "There is nothing that bothers them more than bad children, and should you enter their forest, they'll curse you. They'll play tricks on you, too! Make you get lost in that forest, strip you of your skin and turn you into a skeleton, I hear!" By the time the elder was halfway through his story, most of the children were shaking in fear. "So listen and listen well. Avoid delving too deep into that forest.." Every now and again, the forests outside of the Vale will glimmer with a wave of golden light - and the depths will be bathed in a thick layer of fog. One would do well to take care, should they decide to enter the woods. [PM if you enter the forest and want to interact]

was eating ice cream when i thought of this what kind of ice cream would your character eat mine: qard dael dorado (THE MONKEY)

ask me what song i think you me of

smaller map will help me xray diamonds faster ty

Typo due to me revising the spell without re-reading it, I'll fix it now ty

Demi-Djinn and Cursed Djinn Revision OOC Purpose: Overall Changes to Demi-Djinn and Cursed Djinn Demi-Djinn and Cursed Djinn: Amendment to the First Shackle, the Shackle of Murder Demi-Djinn and Cursed Djinn: Additions and amendments to Physical/Mental Changes Demi-Djinn: Amendments to Abilities and Boons Demi-Djinn: New Abilities and Boons Demi-Djinn: Disconnection Ritual Demi-Djinn: Reincarnation Amendment Cursed Djinn: The Lunar and Solar Phases Cursed Djinn: Inherited Spells Cursed Djinn: New Spells

Keep the selling of building materials.

Fantastic writing, lore, and formatting.

This is a good guideline for you ^ A tip I'll offer is that teachers do most of their seeking IRP (they wont teach you if you're generally known in the community OOCly as a toxic freak) So not only do what @Islamadon said to do but also think of reasons on how your character can more resemble a templar. Sometimes certain players will only follow the creeds/laws/tenets/guidelines of a magic like paladinism on their character simply because they already have the MA. I would reccommend doing your own IRP research on templarism so that your character can better understand who they are and how they can follow their path. It should be done so not so that you can eventually find a teacher, but because it's what your character thinks is right for them, because they believe in the path of a templar

- Your least played race, and your most played race. - Out of the four main races which culture interests you the most. - Another LOTCer whose writing you enjoy consistently. - If you could start fresh on the server, would you do things differently or still play the same sort of aesthetic you play now? - Does RP help you relax, or is it just a hobby? - Thoughts on me? - Favorite thing you're reading ATM

Far, far away from the North, a young spirit lurks about in the forests of Druii. "One, two! One, two!" He called, and any keen bystander would notice that this strange creature was the size of a mite, leading a long line of insects from the front. "March, march, march! Before t'morn, we gon' get some scorn! March, march, march! 'Cause Druii open up t'eir packs, an' find t'emselves wit'out a snack!" He sung in a commanding voice, releasing a whistle as the ants behind him started off to do their own thing. He glanced over his shoulder, soon dropping down a few crumbs of sugar from his pockets, allowing them to follow once more. He continued his march. "Red, white, on t'quilt! We gon'-" His song was interrupted by his own screams as he found a large and weathered parchment engulf him and send him across the dirt. The spirit quickly grew in size, his gloved hands reaching out to take the missive and wiping the dirt away from it with a quick breath or two. "What t'is be?! What t'is be?!" He asked, curiously - though there wasn't an ant to hear it now, for they had gone back to their holes and homes as he skimmed the first paragraph. "T'is be, can't be! Shouldn't be!" The spirit released it, his monkey-like tail curling like a spring and bouncing him back onto his feet. "A bit of gossip jus' for me! How did it get all t'way 'ere, from snow an' ash an' misty plains. Even t'rough mighty rains!" He chimed with his hands up into the air. "I read, I read!" As he tried to wipe away more of the mud with his hands, he found only smudged ink, so only a small section of the parchment was readable. It was there after a few moments of his eyes moving back and forth, a waterfall of liquid started out of his bandaged maw, his glowing eyes shrinking as a list of ingredients were laid out before him. "A mortal buildin' wit' tasty meats, lined up all over t'eir pretty sheets!" He rhymed, but not long before a low growl of his stomach. "I.. want to eat." They said to themselves, and shrunk back down in a long burst of light. It landed atop the back of a lowly beetle, kicking its sides like one would a steed. "Onwards!" He shouted, and the beetle would take off in the wrong direction, making his long journey longer.

Great changes

A missive is brought to the many aviaries, and requested to be pinned near such - so that all who take up their mail would see a poster cluttered amongst many others. It reads: To the conservationists, to the adventurers, and to the like minded. I am a self-made scientist requiring any sort of assistance regarding my studies. My name is Professor Archibald Q. Conley XIV, and I come from a long line of environmentalists. Whatever your skills may be; bodyguarding, hunting, or a fellow researcher, you will be needed. My 'Almaris Conservationist Society' is only a mere handful of individuals like myself, yet we possess not the strength nor the resources without help. In return for helping or protecting me from the strange things in Almaris, I will allow you and your party to keep whatever parts you acquire from the creatures my society permits you to hunt. However, should you allow us to keep these parts, they will come useful in growing our base of operations. Should you find this opportunity of interest to you, our wagon is stationed a little ways into the northern part of the forest surrounding the settlements of orcs, south of the volcanic lands, and far north from Talon's Port. This is an interactable event-site/eventline that will help fill a niche for players that want to do more research/hunting RP. If you offer any signed items you gain back to the NPCs, the Almaris Conservationist Society will expand in size and territory. Please refer to the rules below to see how to get started.

one thing you'd change about the server if you named the new map what'd it be called why'd you make this 7 year ama if u never play

After only skimming over the pictures and disregarding any large clump of words and long sentences, the Great Sage, Equal to Mani uses a nail he found on the streets to pin it to the inside of his shrine. He places his hands upon his hips, nodding approvingly. Passing thoughts were brought to a pair of figures that have long since passed. Be proud of her, ya would. He thought to himself.

Dark Dael suddenly rose from his wheelchair - yes, sensing his awakening, he was momentarily relieved of his crippled form. "You have returned..."

The Dark Lord slowly entered that lowly basement, looking around for the construct that he had been so grateful to. But he only saw pieces. His expression darkened, and assured those around not to feel anything. After all, this thing had not a soul. Yet, they shared a name. The Dark Lord mourns.