#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Aug 15, 2015 16:41:47 GMT
This is a place where you can submit your original works to be included in the Etirath library! The rules are as follows:
The work in question must be at least five paragraphs in length, but hopefully more. This does not apply to works imitating public records, literary fragments, poetry, and similar products.
The work can detail anything the author sees fit, whether it be a description of their powers, a log of who beats who in the tournaments, or even the common uses of a made up root in various herbal teas.
All submitted works must be approved by myself, Annasiel, before being added to the library. Grammatical and spelling errors may be subject to fixing.
Finally, an in character title and author must be presented. The author can be one of your characters or another fictional figure. If you use someone else’s character, you must have their permission.
Template
Title:
Author:
Content Summary (Optional):
Content:
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Sept 30, 2016 14:49:16 GMT
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CharlieGordon
28
August 2015
charliegordon
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Post by CharlieGordon on Aug 16, 2015 9:55:12 GMT
Title: The Diaru Historicall offe Thomme LaePleek
Author: Thomas LaPleek
Content Summary (Optional): excerpts of on old diary
Content: I hadde hadde enoff! Thys slymy wyrm offe a Tavyrn ownere hadde fovnded myself in a badde tempere. Laste night I was svppen in hys dyabolical premise wenne he annovnce:
"No morre ale for thee Thomme LaPleek!" Most lovdly ande cavght th'attenshun offe alle the tavyrn!
"Why" askede I " have thee barrels runneth'd dry?"
"Nay, they'v not" cam'st hys replie
"Why" askede I "hast the clocke struck'th hovr offe closing tyme?"
"Nay its not" cam'st hys replie
" Thenne why" askede I, wyth eyes Wyld and wyde, "doth yov fille evry other cvp, yet sayeth to me Ive hadde enovgh?"
The Landlorde shrvggede and shocke hys hedde. "Thyse fellows haue all payede vp" he saide. "You laste payde fyfty moons aggo! Vntyl morre monnye, no ale shalle flow!"
"Yon Swine!" Saide I "Yon thiefe, yon crooke! To reeleth me in, thenne sinke thine hooke!" I stalkethed ovtsyde in a rage and seekethede ovt a Wyse olde Sage. To fynde a measvre offe reuenge; tynctvre, balme, a trvstede friende.
But no svch frende wasse myne to fynde Myne bylls were mvch too farre behynd And so wasse my sober lessone lernde Pay thine debts wyth monies ernde
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Aug 16, 2015 10:03:03 GMT
I've added this masterpiece to the archives.
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inherit
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Doestovsky
5
Aug 14, 2015 22:39:43 GMT
August 2015
doestovsky
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Post by Doestovsky on Aug 17, 2015 3:20:03 GMT
Title: Sweet Father of Light
Author: Solis Gloria Amanden
Content Summary (Optional): Cultists’ ode to Den
Content: O joy, o passion Your breath is my life Bathe us in Your glory Our sweet Father of Light
To speak is to madness We sing as to praise We shout with all being We breath in Your name
These hands are Yours only These legs follow Your wake Mine eyes to pursue Thee My lips to bring fame
Author of Morning Bringer of Life Herald of Glory Our sweet Father of Light
When these bones crackle When my mind does break When these lips quiver Consume me, Your Grace
Pour down my gray vision Thoughts only of You Caress my dust sullen And breath me anew
To stand in Your presence To bask in Your light To smite those who wrong You Sweet Father of Light
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Aug 17, 2015 3:40:50 GMT
Accepted!
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inherit
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Doestovsky
5
Aug 14, 2015 22:39:43 GMT
August 2015
doestovsky
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Post by Doestovsky on Aug 19, 2015 19:40:00 GMT
Title: Odious (Vol. 1) Author: Theer'Morav Ilameer Content: Ored A towering and phantasmal being stretched across their vision and snaked through the cavern floor with grace and efficiency. The chit chit chitting of its thousand teeth echoed throughout the space, shattering what confidence the spearmen had. In the darkness, they began to see it.
Along the underbelly of the thing’s hide was an array of human legs, dragging and scraping the cave floor as it danced through the stalagmites. Its scales were made of teeth and across its spine surfed orange, luminous sacs, one for each distance on its horrible length. Inside the sacs dreamt the silhouette of what seemed to be children. In the liquid they churned, dissipated, reformed, and then churned again. On its face it wore the visage of a peaceful human baby, eyes perpetually closed, mouth pursed as if expecting a meal.
On its head sat a crown made of muscles and sinew and skin, writhing around each other as if they still felt pain.
This was the thing that their tomes called “The Mocker” - “Slithering Madness”. As they looked on with sweating palms and legs as heavy as marble, the face opened its mouth, revealing an ocean of tongues.
“Good morning”, it gurgled in a voice as rough as stone. “You may call me Ored as I grind through your bones.” *** When Idvesta first saw man, it disgusted him. Not because of man’s own doing, but because their very sight reminded him where they came from. The pride of Day disgusted him, and he detested all that man did, for man was just a toy. So he created for himself a being of his own satisfaction. Out of corpses he fashioned a body; from the teeth of the fallen he made for it clothing; the young that died at birth, he repurposed them with life; and from the energy of a dying star he gave it a thought: disgust the Day. At the end of his toil, the serpent known as “The Mocker” was born. He named it so because of the affrontery it would be to Day and his creation, and he delighted in the thing. He let it loose upon the land’s many caverns and holes, and gave it free reign over the deepest parts of the earth. As for the things it would consume, he gave it permission to feast on the bounty of the land, but restricted it from ever consuming man. It was merely to exist, and by doing so, it would be a thorn in Day’s side. So he left it to its own devices, off to slither and mock the Day from recesses he would never care to walk.
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Doestovsky
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Aug 14, 2015 22:39:43 GMT
August 2015
doestovsky
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Post by Doestovsky on Aug 21, 2015 1:05:15 GMT
Title: Odious (Vol. 24) Author: Theer'Morav Ilameer Content: Thuls “Believe me when I say that we tried our best. You have no idea how difficult it is to kill so many of those things. Before the night was over, the city was overrun by rats and the people… I just- I never thought I’d have to fight for my life to a chorus of children being chewed alive.” *** Up north, on the snow peaked holds of the Mavar clans once lived an eccentric sorcerer named Thuls. He was a man of great curiosity and unceasing energy, the type of man that would never take 'no' for an answer. Amongst Thuls' many fixations was his love for rats, specifically, black rats. The things were small and easy to capture, and they were intelligent enough to be tamed and used for experiments. Thuls adored the things. "The pinnacle of necessity", he called them, “brimming with mirth and joy”, he would say. He adored the things to the point that he devoted his whole being to understanding them as profoundly as possible. He knew their anatomy inside out, understood the language by which they spoke to one another, he even developed a keen sense of perception which allowed him to know (as if by a sixth sense) just where the things could be located. The manor where he lived became dubbed “The Nest” because of the swarm of rats that were always present. Now Thuls was an eccentric and volatile thing, but he wasn’t without a sense of drive. People could only imagine just what he was going to do with so many rats. That was, until the day of ‘Dark Blight’. Without any warning, Thuls and a hundred thousand of his beloved descended onto a Mavar town and decimated the whole population. The whole affair only lasted a couple of minutes, but it took days for the screaming to die down. Thuls, in his brilliant madness, found that the best location to breed the things was in dark, damp, and nutritious places. What better place to grow his beloved than in the empty caverns of still breathing humans? The things are born inside the host’s stomach, grow large enough to chew their way out, and join Thuls and his army on the outside. Whatever rats couldn’t make their way out or were digested by the stomach acid weren’t fitting enough to join the ranks, anyways. Thuls went on like this for several years, until ultimately deciding that there were better places to do this from. So he left the snow peaked mountains of the Mavar clans and moved to recesses unknown. Caravaneers, travellers, and adventurers alike have come back from the road with stories of intrigue. One group of adventurers tracked a goblin hoard to a dungeon, only to find that they had been consumed by a great number of rats. Another story tells of a merchant who was carrying wagons of lumber from the port city of Logamba to a town in the High Moors. As night fell, he heard a great deal of commotion coming from his goods and went to check up on it alongside three mercenaries. They arrived just in time to watch hundreds of rats streaming from the hollowed out crevices of the lumber. And so it goes. And so it still remains.
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Aug 25, 2015 15:09:16 GMT
Title: Diabol'ferrium, a summary
Author: Lenin Arkyadvich
Content:
Diabol'ferrium, known as the 'Devil Iron' among mages, is an exceedingly rare ore found within the world that disrupts magic. It's very presence in the ground has been known to break and disrupt spells up to half a mile away.
When crafted into an alloy with steel, it can be made into magic blocking shields and magic inhibiting chains. When the first mages moved into the kingdom of Etirath, it was rumored they were forced to purge the ground of a large deposit of Diabol'ferrium in order to even practice magic. Diabol'ferrum isn't simply a metal designed to block minor magical attacks, the metal is entirely immune to magic, repelling it, but not absorbing it. A blade of Diabol'ferrum can cut through anything of magical quality, even bending magical metals away from it, whereas a shield of Diabol'ferrum can completely protect against any magical based spell, even if elemental in nature.
The one drawback comes in that Diabol'ferrum is both a conductor of electricity and does not absorb magic. To illustrate, a magical bolt of lightning will still electrocute a shield bearer should they not properly protect the handles and a blast of fire with curve around a blade of diabol'ferrum, hitting the sword-holder regardless. However, both attacks would need to be at least 50 meters away in order to not have their magic disrupted by the metal
Diabol'ferrium is a very volition substance because most, if not all, sentient beings are magical in nature. If in exceedingly close proximity to the metal for too long a human can suffer from magical 'burnout' and hallucinations. The metal causes magical sensory nerves to overfire while suppressing their power. Because of this, the metal must be kept in very thick lead boxes if it is to be stored around people who utilize or practice magic.
Because of its rarity, the metal is also exceedingly expensive. However, it's rumored that Etirath still has large deposites of this metal deeper and deeper in the crust of the world, farther down than the original mages could, or wanted to, reach. ((OOC Note, in order to obtain Diabol'ferrum, you must either mention it in the profile upon character creation, as well as tell me, or create a IC thread to obtain it.))
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Aug 25, 2015 18:39:22 GMT
All three accepted.
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#ed1717
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Sept 9, 2017 19:51:41 GMT
5
Lev
191
August 2015
admin
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Post by Lev on Aug 26, 2015 1:56:44 GMT
A personal account of the fall of Winged-Death. Dictated by Randmav Julemam, scribed by Victor Juleman[/b]
I want you to write down every word, hear me? Are you writing now? Well, tell me when you begin, fool! Divine breath, you rile me..
Mistress Theolandra - she wasn't exactly queen before The Rebirth, understand. More than a fair share held an ill-will toward her yet, pardoning the Bloodborne bastard instead of executing him. But she was - is - mighty and beautiful. Those that weren't moved by her words were swayed by fear of her power, having seen it in the battle with Sayre or hearing rumors about it. Not a soul was dim enough to invite more horrors upon our people, and she was a breath of fresh air in comparison to that bloody cultist. You've distracted me. I'm talking about that damned dragon..
He attacked in the middle of the night. I had finished working on Migegor's farm that night. I remember because it was the same night his daughter and the mage decided to consummate th-.. That's beside the point. If you go running your lips about anything other than that dragon I'm going to find another and feed you to it myself! Don't write that. Like I said, the giant wind-rider came in the middle of the night. His shadow was enormous. I thought Noc himself had cast a shadow in the sky, but then its scaly gut bulged with dragonfire. Orbs of flame shot into the soil, into home and stone. It ruined everything it touched. Those of us who didn't burn alive hid in the most protected parts of the castle, which was smaller then than it is now.. I remember seeing your great-uncle covered in blisters and charred skin. He owes his life to one of those magic healers - a pretty little thing, she was.
They told us to wait. Scholars shouldn't be left making decisions, if you ask me. They don't understand it, the feeling in the moment - right here - Svitani's trumpet calling out to you. But we waited. We thought it had gone after the first day, but we were wrong. A few brave men, Milova claim their souls, scouted the kingdom to find the beast but they never came back. It waited for them. That mage from the barn.. I hope his last night was a good one.. That's when Mistr- Lady Theolandra took over. She gathered up a couple men - willing volunteers only. I was one of them. She told us that we could leave anytime, that we weren't going to fight.. we were going to help any survivors we found along the way, and our weapons would defend us if we needed them. She didn't take any weapons. I don't recall why the other men decided to go with her. There was something about her that was worth protecting, worth following. That's why I went. It was one of the best decisions of my life.
In the dead of night we left to search the rubble. We found three survivors, one of them a babe no older than your little girl. It was a miracle that the Winged-Death didn't eat us alive. It must've filled its stomach with our friends and family, which only fueled our hatred for it more. The Lady gave us one last chance to retreat. One man did, saying he wanted to bring the people we found to safety. None of us thought differently of him, whether he was telling the truth or not. We were going to slay a dragon. We thought we were..
It was sleeping like a stuffed pig. We walked for half a'day to reach the sinful creature. No horses, no rest.. I'll tell you something. Stop writing, boy - listen. I've never seen a woman walk with such will, such backbone! We had to keep up with her. I couldn't see her face, but I could feel her vengeance the same way you feel me sitting next to you now. Hear? She was punishment walking. Now, where was I? Yes.. The demise of Winged-Death. I told you that we didn't have weapons, didn't I? We were like cattle lining up for slaughter, but Lady Theolandra wasn't afraid. Dawn was approaching, so we didn't have a lot of time.
I wish I could explain what happened next. It all happened like something I'd never seen before, like a dream. She told us to wait. It was absurd. But she went alone into the glade between the Foretomn and Thu'ub peaks, like she was walking to pick flowers or something simple. It felt like hours passed while we waited, rubbing our thumbs together, wondering why we couldn't watch or help. The sun was about to rise over the horizon. We thought we heard talking - strange words that sounded like quaking rocks or an old angry language we'd never heard of. Finally, there was a boom. The earth trembled and I fell on my arse! The sun was rising. The dragon had to be waking, ready to swallow us whole.. so we readied our weapons and left our hiding spot to help our Lady. When we ran toward the glade we were blinded. The air was charged, lifting the hairs on our necks like the coming of a lightning storm. But there was no storm. Honestly, we couldn't see a single thing! I only remember the deafening roar - like bee wings buzzing in my ear - and light that flooded into my closed eyes.
Then it stopped. The other guards and I rubbed our faces like bewildered children. After our eyes opened the new Day had begun and Lady Theolandra was standing next to us.. Winged-Death, gone. The overgrown lizard was erased from the land like a bad dream. She didn't tell us what happened. She asked us if we were able to walk home, and that was that. Unanswered questions knocked around our idiot skulls, but we didn't dare voice them. The group just nodded and started walking.. but we noticed that the Lady wasn't walking the way she did before. Her steps came slower, and her shoulders slumped with fatigue. All of us knew what that looked like. Half-way home she nearly collapsed. She wanted to get back to the people, though. What happened next? I carried her myself - that's what! All the way I held her in my arms. I never let anyone forget that.
What do you mean you already knew? You don't know anything, brat. Until you carry the most powerful, mysterious, dragon-slaying woman in your arms you don't know nothing. Now wrap this little bit up. I need to hide it from your mother.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Aug 26, 2015 2:03:14 GMT
Accepted, of course!
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inherit
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Sept 30, 2016 14:49:16 GMT
0
CharlieGordon
28
August 2015
charliegordon
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Post by CharlieGordon on Sept 1, 2015 9:50:55 GMT
FIELD NOTES ON HOBGOBLINS Larger and stronger than their smaller kin, the hobgoblin is a common goblin cross-bred with the Orc to create a truly nasty specimen. Standing at the height of men, these beasts walk hunch-backed with huge, muscled shoulders and crude, ugly weapons to match their hideous faces. Hobgoblins typically arm themselves with clubs, cudgels, axes, maces or heavy swords and are readily identified by their 'seax knives' (pron. Say-ax) which are ten-twelve inch blades with one sharpened edge- ideally clasped in a horizontal sheath sharp-edge up for disgusting cut-throat antics. Tribes ravage the countryside in groups of 1-2 dozen and scavenge for meat from livestock. They will attack homesteads at will and happily murder, loot and pillage; burning as they go. Here in Etirath, these foul beings are not to set foot within the kingdom's limits and if spotted, patrons are encouraged to raise the alarm in town whereupon a hunting party must swiftly assemble to defend our border. Whilst strong and savage, the hobgoblin is slow, dull-witted and no match for a trained man-at-arms. They detest horses and will run bow-legged from cavalry. A hobgoblin horde oftentimes gives indication of its proximity with the sounding of a huge, bellowing hunting horn. It's sound is low, earthy and dread but at least might spare a couple of minutes to raise defences or facilitate an escape. The hobgoblin-female is seldom seen and little to naught is known about them. Hordes are always comprised of male specimens led by a bigger, uglier alpha-male who will be readily identified by possession of the aforementioned warhorn. If encountered: Get Out Get Help Get Even. Chief Huntsman, Ezekiel Proctor (date obscured) Proctor's Illustration shows a hobgoblin swordsman. Note the distinctive 'Seax Knife' held low down.
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#ed1717
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 9, 2015 11:24:25 GMT
Accepted.
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inherit
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
4
blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 12, 2015 5:55:24 GMT
Title: A Treatise on Necromancy
Author: Unknown ArchNecromancer (Aleksandria Kostya)
Content:
To begin, allow me to begin by giving you the best piece of advice you'll ever hear. Wanting to get into Necromancy? Don't. Necromancy fundamentally changes you, both physically and mentally. It's more than raising the dead, more than commanding an army of skeletal warriors, it's playing Divine, and the Divines don't like humans holding the same power. Out of personal experience, I know Den hates it the most. Necromancers do not play with powers they do not understand, those who do, die. Either you understand the forces you manipulate, both in what they do to the world around you, the world they come from, and their effect on your own body. Now, I will begin.
Section One: Markings and Concealment.
Manipulating the forces beyond death requires the full dedication of your body, unless you want to sacrifice your soul with the first summoning you'll need to magically mark protection upon your body. The tattoos are only a visible representation of the internal magic that chains your soul to your body. When you utilize the forces of Necromancy, the full body encompassing magical markings will repel your magic and permanently scar your form. It will prevent your soul from being accessed by the Ethereal in any form. However, these markings will also repress that which makes you human. Your sense of love will be all almost completely destroyed, you'll be unable to feel passion, and real happiness will be exceedingly difficult to draw out. On the plus side, your morals will be all but nonexistent, so your conscience won't feel bad when you command tortured souls or you brutally murder someone.
The markings necessary and their meanings are as follows. The first set is the largest and will form the base of your protection, it is an almost tribal-like set of flowing markings that must begin at your heart and flow around to encompass your entire body. Disregard your dignity when forming the base, if you leave anything uncovered by markings then you will forfeit your life in an even more horrific manner. This base is required for all necromancers, once marked, you will be able to do the rest through external markings. However, if you wish to utilize necromantic abilities without complex external rituals, you will need to further scar yourself. The following may be done in any order and with any combination, I personally possess all of these. A standard, though by no means easy, set of markings are the three Alchemical symbols of Salt, Sulfer, and Mercury marked in a set on your shoulders and the top of your back. These markings, imbued with raw magic drawn from the soul of a still living being, will allow you to easily breach the barriers between life and death.
Salt is the basis of life, as vital as water to your body and allowing you to draw past the flesh of men and into their souls. Sulfer is the spirit of life, allowing you to draw out their soul and manipulate it as you will. Finally, Mercury is the fluid by which you manipulate the souls of the living through and beyond the veil of death. A second, and likely necessary symbol, the circle of alchemy. I would suggest this to be marked in the middle of your back, it will allow you to utilize your own body as a gate rather than having to create one. This will allow the expelling of raw Necromantic magic through your hands and onto your enemies. The symbol of Brimstone marked to your left palm will allow you easier access to raw, powerful magic that you may utilize against your enemy. The Marks of 失落的靈魂 should be etched into the insides of your forearms as posts for Lost Souls, this will allow for easy control without the needs of a staff or other magical catalysts.
The Black Sun is a symbol of the endtimes and the marking required for, when imbued with magic, unleashing a Necromantic gate. More on those will be explained later on. The Black Sun should be etched around your eyes with the middle of the circle being your pupil and not actually etched into your eye. These will allow you to see lost souls from the beyond, I would highly discourage attempting to use these to summon souls, it will blind you. Additionally, I discourage trying to use your own body as a gate to summon anything, it will have horrific effects upon you that lead to a quick death. It's worth noting that all of these symbols simply allow you to better use your abilities, they are not to be seen as shortcuts to summoning or training. I've seen untrained necromancers mark themselves up and kill themselves in their first battle, none of these replace training and skill.
A Ægishjálm may be marked into the forehead in order to frighten and show dominance over souls when you traverse between the veil of life and death. It is necessary that this mark not be tattooed, but rather branded between the eyes unflinchingly while simultaneously imbuing it with magic. This doubly works against enemies in battle, as the painful magic within you can be harnessed and cast onto your enemies to inspire fear amongst their ranks equal to the strength of your will. A Shieldknot overlaid with a Pentagram and imbued with magic will protect you from other necromancers and the powers from beyond the veil that may seek to harm you or claim your soul as payment when you traverse. More on traversing later. The overlay will also allow you to freely bind other necromancer's summons to your will if your will is stronger than their's. In order to bind, a second symbol is also needed, a Squared Circle, like what would be used in the creation of a philosopher's stone(another necromantic artifact), will need to be marked into your right palm. This symbol will allow for the 'physical' gripping of an enemy or neutral summon and binding them to your will. Should you possess the power of a strong Wraith, it will also allow you to bind the living to your will.
One rare mark that I would not advise you to bear is the Cross of St. Peter, simply an inverted cross. Crosses in and of themselves are often harmless symbols, occasionally they will carry holy power within them but I wouldn't fear that too much. The inverted cross is also a holy symbol, but not in a manner that you'd think. The Cross represents righteous suffering and the saving of men through the sacrifice of the bearer. The Inverted Cross, however, symbolizes unworthiness, inferiority, suffering and, ultimately, death. The necromancer may utilize this symbol, if branded across their body and imbued with magic during the branding, to allow them to control and channel pain. The branding itself is excruciatingly painful as the magic utilized in imbuing the mark can often send victims into shock. Afterward the power itself may be self destructive as misuse of the pain transference can cause you to go into shock and die.
In public, you will need to utilize a ritual to conceal your body and markings and I will note, the more markings on your body, the stronger the ritual will need to be to conceal them. In order to utilize your abilities, you will need to remove the concealment ritual as it is most certainly not a simple illusion. The concealment ritual has been used by necromancers for centuries who did not want to be necromancers anymore. It not only covers your markings, it completely repressing both your powers and their symbols. Attempting necromantic magic with a concealment ritual activated will kill you. Concealment rituals expire one of two ways, naturally through time, and forcefully. Forcefully expelling a concealment ritual will be exceedingly painful for even one possessing only the base markings, forcefully removing a concealment ritual with all the markings causing pain indescribable. Avoid it at all costs if you at risk of going into shock and dying.
Now, a quick note on what all these marks will do to your body. In short, they will kill you. In long, they will slowly restrict your soul by crushing it into a speck of nothingness. You will not pass on, your energies will not be recycled, you will be scattered along the winds to be breathed in and out by the rest of the world. This process, depending on how often you utilize your abilities, will occur over the process of five decades or five years. The more you rely on your own markings, the more you accelerate the process. The only way out of this cycle is to mark yourself with the symbol of a Torii gate in the middle of your stomach, this symbol will allow your soul to 'breathe' and re-expand. The difficulty in using this gate is that, if you are not exceedingly skilled, your soul will 'escape' and you will die instantly.
Section Two: Summoning and Souls.
The basis of a Necromancer's abilities lie not in calling down unholy fires and manipulating souls, it lies in summoning and resurrection. When a Necromancer seeks to summon a soul from beyond the veil of death, they must first follow a strict summoning order. Firstly, energy controlling symbols must be established. The drawing of a Black Sun in blood with a single drop of mercury in the center is all that is necessary for a small window into the veil, this will, with the applications of the right magic, allow for soul magic to flow through it. These alone are useless and will no nothing without a central force to draw the soul magic out. This is where a simple, large, inverted Squared Triangle will need to be created. The circle should be made with the Black Suns being drawn at the distance of exactly 20 meters away from from the center of the circle. You require one Black Sun at each of the five points of a pentagram, carrying around a small map cloth will help you as you will not be able to draw one on the ground where your squared circle is. As more power is needed, a doubled amount of Black Suns may be created in a circle around the first circle.
Once you have finished, you will need to speak a summoning incantation in what is known in 'Night Speech' as follows:
Wun aphyon dos ussen'me. Wun dro dos ussen'me. Usstan quarth dos doer Whol nin wun uns'aa dos kla'ath.
This means as follows:
In death you served. In life you served. I command you come For now in me you serve.
Note on Night Speech, do not attempt to learn this language. Every word of it carries great dark power, simply speaking the language can cause death if spoken nonchalantly.
Once the incantation has been spoken, you have now opened the gate to traverse the world beyond, from which you may forcibly drag and bind souls to objects, locations, and your will. In order to bind a specific soul, you must possess an item or person exceedingly dear to the person you are trying to force out. Do know, this process essentially revives souls from death, tearing them from a limbo of peacefulness to a reality of horrifying, constant pain. This is a morally horrible thing to do, though as a Necromancer I doubt you'll have a problem justifying it. Your body will likely feel as though your soul is being ripped from you, keep in mind that if your base markings were done correctly, it is just that, a feeling that will pass. If you had them done incorrectly, then say your last rites. When you access the veil beyond, the forces beyond the gate attempt to claim payment for your theft by taking your soul, and you are denying them this.
Souls from the beyond possess no emotions, intelligence or feeling, making them excellent for undead fodder but bad for possession. For possession, you will want a Wraith. Specific, powerful Spirits that grant you the strong abilities they possessed in life or enhance your own abilities are called Wraiths. Wraiths are spirits who died tragically or are powerful enough to resist the pull of the beyond, thus existing in our world. They are powerful augments for the Necromancer, and should not be treated lightly. It is important to know that Wraiths are strong enough to escape your body should they want to, therefore you must possess a powerful artifact crafted from Devil Iron and the remnants of something important to the wraith in order to bind him or her to your body. That said, Wraiths are also strong enough to stay in your body by choice, taking over your vessel if you're too weak to control them.
A living body can be shared among two souls, but no more. The soul is energy, for sure, but contrary to popular belief, you cannot extend your lifetime by having multiple souls within your vessel. Attempting to force a third soul into the vessel will cause one of the two already inhabiting it to be forcibly ejected. If you wish to bind a soul or wraith to your form, make sure it is a strong one.
There are other ways to bind souls to objects and persons. Utilizing ashen wood and runes carved with black fire, you may create a stake which can rip a soul from a living being and temporarily hold it captive for energy usage or reapplication to something else. Binding a soul to a blade will increase its power and cutting strength immensely. Many legendary weapons are the product of willing Wraiths binding themselves to weapons in order to increase their power, cutting through hobgoblin flesh like butter. It is also possible to use actual chains with runes carved utilizing black fire to physically bind a person's soul and absorb it into a container.
There is only one item in existence that is capable of holding more than one soul, and storing a soul that may be later removed and utilized elsewhere. Attempting to remove a soul from a typical item will only cause the soul to be released to the beyond, good for the soul but bad for the necromancer. The only item capable of holding souls like a cup holds water is the mythical Philosopher's Stone. The Philosopher's Stone has only been created once in the past decade by one of the last three Archnecromancers, unfortunately that is not me. This Archnecromancer, shortly after his discovery, took his knowledge of the creation of a Philosopher's Stone and promptly fled to the North. It is rumored that he hides away there
Section Three: Armies, Skeletons, and the Undead.
Yes, armies, the section I'm sure most of you have been waiting for. Prepare to be disappointed. Necromancy cannot be used to control armies of millions of skeletal or undead warriors, risen magically from the dead to do your bidding. In order to create an undead, you must take the soul of a living either from beyond the veil or from a human who is already alive. With this soul, you must utilize an inverted pentagram drawn in pig's blood on the ground with a diameter of exactly one meter with your quarry restrained in the center. Any wider and the soul will explode inside the undead, destroying your 'project,' any smaller and the soul will not fit inside the vessel. You may also use this drawing to rip out the soul of a living being and place it back inside their body, creating a sentient undead. There is no other way to create a sentient undead other than what has just been stated.
Skeletal warriors are perhaps the most morally kind way to bind a soul, whereas an undead in under constant pain an torture, a skeleton feels nothing. Skeletons are, unfortunately, infinitely weaker than undead. While they cannot be frightened, for they feel absolutely nothing, and will follow every order with surprising intelligence, any sort of strike is all that is needed to take them down. A child could break a skeletal warrior. Skeletons must rely on their opponent's fear to get the first strike or simply a massive amount of overwhelming numbers to overtake their enemies.
Skeletons are perhaps the only way in which any form of an undead 'army' might be created. They may be summoned in the ratio of ten warriors to one soul, as one soul may be forcibly ripped into ten pieces, or less depending on the skill of the necromancer, and placed inside ten skeletons to 'resurrect' them. A single soul in a single skeleton has the same effect as a tenth of a soul and is a waste of good energy. I would not advise creating an army, however, as you will need to dig up thousands of skeletons or have men who could be better served doing other work do so for you. If you put a tenth of a soul into a skeleton that's still in the ground and expect him to dig his way out, you're a fool.
Now, the most efficient army you could possibly create is an army of lost souls. Lost souls properly bound to you will be nigh unkillable. While they are, at their core, weak and able to be dissipated with a few strikes of a Paladin's holy blade, they tactically possess the most powerful an efficient quality of anything you'll ever utilize. So long as you maintain concentration, you may reassemble the dissipated energies of a lost soul to fight once more. This process will take at least thirty seconds, in which I suggest you protect yourself as best you can. The amount of souls you can bind, the time of the reassembling process, as well as your control over the bound souls depends completely on not only your training but also natural talent.
Section Four: Necromancer Types and the Conclusion.
To conclude this treatise, I will lay out the three types of necromancers that exist in Etirath as of currently. The base Necromancer is known simply by that term, Necromancer. They make up the majority of the backyard summoners with, or without, base markings who think themselves the next Warlord. Which leads into the next type, the Dark Warlord. Dark Warlords are perhaps the most well known type of Necromancer, they are Battlemages who turned to the forces of darkness to enhance their abilities. They possess many markings and the ability to utilize soul magics with ease. They are certainly a formidable opponent.
The last, rarest, and most dangerous type are known as Archnecromancers. These people are not just masters of Necromancy, for Dark Warlords are certainly masters in their own right. Rather, Archnecromancers are Necromancers who have learned every single known aspect of Necromancy known to man. With full knowledge, they can speak the Night Speech with confidence and control. They experiment and develop new techniques, pioneering the craft for the rest of their ilk. In the world, there are only three living Archnecromancers living, and there have only ever been five in existence. One is known to be in hiding in the North, one is known to be causing trouble in the west, and one is rumored to be in hiding somewhere within the Kingdom of Etirath.
Now, I leave you with this one thought. Out of this entire text, if you walk away with nothing but one statement, walk away with this. Do not study necromancy. You will be hated and hunted down. Everyone you love will despise you as you lose your humanity and destroy the balance of the world. You will anger the Divines, and they will do all in their power to send their agents after you. Necromancy will kill you, stay away from it, far away.
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Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
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Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 12, 2015 5:58:24 GMT
Wonderfully written. I'll add it to the library site by Monday.
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