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Best Of
Re: Aetolian Memes
Shadow rot coming =
Enorian "We made defense of sprit energy amd have tried away at a forge crafting a weapon"
Duiran "We have given to the Rhythm and are strengthened with mystic totems"
Bloodloch: "We shall empower our slaves and create an unstoppable army"
Spines "Our science has created weapons of light"
Dhar "I shall hold a tournament, whom wins shall receive a weapon of power"
Ivoln "RELEASE MY WYRM OF DESTRUCTION."
Carnifex." We dug SIX holes!"
Enorian "We made defense of sprit energy amd have tried away at a forge crafting a weapon"
Duiran "We have given to the Rhythm and are strengthened with mystic totems"
Bloodloch: "We shall empower our slaves and create an unstoppable army"
Spines "Our science has created weapons of light"
Dhar "I shall hold a tournament, whom wins shall receive a weapon of power"
Ivoln "RELEASE MY WYRM OF DESTRUCTION."
Carnifex." We dug SIX holes!"
Damonicus
12
Re: Aetolian Memes
this is just a meme, i'm actually really havin' a lot of fun and isn't meant to hurt anyone's feelings
Sryaen
15
Re: Mildly Irritating: Aetolia's Pet Peeves
People making sweeping generalizations about my qualities as a person and my roleplay integrity because of very, very mild (borderline inconsequential) IC choices and Roleplay is very frustrating. If the most minor of IC interactions are enough to impact you OOC so severely that you feel compelled to demonize other players, it's worth considering if a game like Aetolia is really one you should be playing.
Tetchta
12
Still alive.
Since I am not really active on Discord or anything I thought it would be easier to update people on my situation here.
My battle with APL (Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia) is going very well. Blood levels have stabilized and I have been out of the hospital for about a month or so now after 40 days of intense treatment and constant monitoring.
The freedom has been nice. Currently I go in for chemotherapy sessions 5 days a week for four weeks and then four weeks off. It's basically a full time job. Fortunately where I live the government covers the costs and I am also compensated for lost work time so financially I am okay.
Once life slows down again (around autumn/winter) I will probably be back to playing Fyrren regularly once more. I am more or less fine to do anything now that my blood levels are stable but just have no time to be around much during the summer.
Hit me up if you want to chat some time though and catch up. I am slow to respond but miss you all!
My battle with APL (Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia) is going very well. Blood levels have stabilized and I have been out of the hospital for about a month or so now after 40 days of intense treatment and constant monitoring.
The freedom has been nice. Currently I go in for chemotherapy sessions 5 days a week for four weeks and then four weeks off. It's basically a full time job. Fortunately where I live the government covers the costs and I am also compensated for lost work time so financially I am okay.
Once life slows down again (around autumn/winter) I will probably be back to playing Fyrren regularly once more. I am more or less fine to do anything now that my blood levels are stable but just have no time to be around much during the summer.
Hit me up if you want to chat some time though and catch up. I am slow to respond but miss you all!
Fyrren
25
Re: Visions of Vo'acha, the Shadow
A lot of things has happened, safe to say - but I would be remiss if I didn't include this follow-up, because it's JUST that great.
Content warning: GORY.
<< Sib is standing at the Core with a few other people, when.... >>
Scanning the darkness of the land, twin reptilian eyes suddenly snatch up the ability to pull free your gaze. The scraping sound of something large and undulating echoes from the darkness as the glowing stare begins to move, eventually disappearing from sight.
Going to Dendara:
Before an enormous, sunken stone idol.
You find the weather around you imperceptible. Ringed in flowering hummocks of earth and foliage, and half-rusted with red lichen, a huge stone idol lies half-buried in the mire here; a few stoic pines loom over it as though standing vigil for a fallen ally. The soft chirping of frogs and crickets form a shrill counterpoint to the whispering of the canopy above, and the occasional splash breaks the quiet peace as one of the watery flat's inhabitants claims a meal. The watery plain comes to an abrupt end against the sheer cliffs of the eastern mountains, though a few waterlogged vines make a brave attempt at scaling the impassive surface here and there. Coiled about itself like an intricate spring, a serpent totem stands imposingly here. A wooden bowl has been placed in tribute next to the coiled serpent totem. Scattered near the foot of the totem is a shell fetish. A crude charm is here, a mark of the Shadow, Vo'acha.Shifting her weight from foot to foot in ill-contained tension, Miazi skulks about
You see exits leading northwest and west.
Miazi stands as a singular, dark figure beside the cairn, black cloak pulled tight around her willowy form. Her voice carries along the wind, graven tone reaching your ears. "He has waited for you, Esrytesh Sibatti." The wind that whips at her words also play havoc with the cloak wrapped around her. "Eons has he searched, and now you are here."
You have emoted: As Sibatti drops from her entbeast, she spies the familiar site of previous offerings before the serpent's totem. A few things have been carried with her: aberrations oozing their last. One is handed off to her other, accompanying spirit - a long and sinuous eidolon of the deep woods.
An eidolon of the deep woods:
You have emoted: "Voice Miazi," Sibatti greets, her tone low. "His gaze found me."
An eidolon of the deep woods vanishes away the aberration offered to it, seemingly, its corrupted body lost within its own ghastly form.
Miazi turns her slow gaze towards the cairn, following your stare towards the various remnants of offerings passed. "How long have you courted him, Esrytesh?" She poses, lifting a predatory gaze that falls now onto you. "From the first blood offered in oath, or was it something else that caused you to align to his way?"
You have emoted: Sibatti's hands remain busy with the other aberration's remains, working swiftly so as not to keep its foul remains long within this sacred fragment of Dendara. A red string is drawn from her pouch and wound around its electrocuted 'head', before once again handing it off to the nearby eidolon, who dutifully takes it from her. Her hands now completely freed, her full focus now on Miazi, she answers the an-Kiar with, "My rebirth. The embrace of death, and the becoming of His Fang. My eyes shifted such."
The eerie, dry rasp of scales are first to answer as the Shadow moves, seemingly from all around.
Miazi answering sneer is punctuated by the harsh words that follow. "Any fool with a tongue can make such boastful claims; embrace death," she cries aloud over the new sound. Her voice seems to carry in this place, accompanied by that slow, continuous scraping. "So very few realize what that promise means, what the oath entails." Her chin juts forward, a challenge to you: "You think you have the strength to lead the Council forward in this time of blood and uncertainty? Will you purge away any weakness that remains, feeding upon in his name, in order to survive what comes?"
The darkness stirs around you, mass of flesh and scales that glint with the pervading touch of the moon. You realize that he is here already - lying in wait, surrounding you completely. As the Shadow's belly scrapes across the ground, you realize that his coil has begun to slowly encroach upon you.
You have emoted: Miazi's words bring a smile to Sibatti's dath-covered lips, the bloodflower petals inked upon them stretching and parting. She takes only as many steps as necessary to form a broader space in the sodden clearing, beckoning the eidolon closer as her smile parts even further to reveal her own fangs. Her eyes are shadowed behind her mask, but delight glimmers in them nonetheless. "His fangs will purge the world..." It is a phrase familiar to her, coming easy and dampened to a low roar by her particularly coarse and gravelly voice. "...Cleanse it of what makes it foul. The weak will not be permitted to thrive, my Shadow."
You say to an eidolon of the deep woods, "Purge."
An eidolon of the deep woods moves to follow the Azudim, bidden by her word, its ghostly drift sluggish and delayed. It has nothing to say, nor any real face to speak of, any resemblance perhaps existing for the comfort of mortal eyes. It sways into the clearing beside her, and where it halts it begins the process of slowly unkinking its sinuous body. Feathers shiver and scales scrape loudly as the sinuous spirit unfurls a bloom of its own in the form of purging itself of a hunt's worth of offerings absorbed within its being. The eidolon is squeezed of all its contents, vomiting out a waterfall of what it's processed - blood and blood alone, both dark and bright as it splatters into a messy puddle into already-sopping earth.
You think:
The blood that feeds the world.
Miazi's sneering visage slowly transforms as she listens, then watches, taking on the telltale signs of pure, unadulterated joy. As blood rains down in the darkness, her own eyes slide shut in an ecstasy that seems beyond her efforts alone. Her voice rises up, an echo of your own words: "His fangs will purge the world!"
The winding body of Vo'acha begins to pick up speed as he circles you, that ring of shadowed scales growing every closer. The earth slurps and squelches beneath the weight of him as he churns and twists, the sheer force of his movement throwing up thick droplets of blood anew. In the darkness of the night, the Shadow feasts.
You have emoted: The ground-shuddering movements of the Forestwalker has Sibatti opting to lower herself slowly to the ground, her heels already mired in the mess of her offering. Great stygian wings drape lovingly against the valley floor, black feathers dousing their tips in red. Her smile persists, growing only wider and more vicious, and she lays a palm flat to the ground if only it would bring her closer to the ecstasy of the feast. "No one lurks in the woods, when they surely know it means death," she whispers a quiet promise, like unlike prayer. "We will consume, or you will consume us."
And soon, every so slowly, the Shadow's ecstacy comes to a close. When finally his roiling stops, the head of the gargantuan Serpant lifts up to pierce you with his gaze, hood flaring wide. Crimson droplets streak along the entirety of him, painted in offering and revelry. Poised to strike, he stops as still as is his namesake, and considers you.
As his eyes fix you to the spot where you kneel, the rasping voice of something unfathomably larger than yourself explodes within the confines of your mind: STRIKE. KILL. CONSUME. DEVOUR WEAKNESS, FEED YOUR STRENGTH. FOR YOU ARE THE SHADOW THAT HUNTS WHAT WOULD DESTROY DENDARA.
You have emoted: A trembling energy is marked by the raspy whisper of Sibatti's outstretched wings as she holds her position, energy preserving. And then, she is pushing herself up off of the damp earth, standing upright in a posture befitting her monstrous confidence. Serpentine tail hissing through the air with her own, pent-up energies, she rumbles out her final tribute in discordant tones, like one sealing an oath: "WE WILL DO, OR DIE."
You think:
[ A thrill, ecstatic in communion, a heartbeat away from terror ].
And then Vo'acha strikes. His blow never lands, his great, hooded head seeming to move through you and onwards on his journey before being swallowed within the forests depths. You are struck by the realization that had your will been found wanting, you would no longer breathe.
"Go forth, Esrytesh Sibatti, and herald that which comes." Miazi calls aloud, still drenched head to toe in your offering. "The time of the Guardians has come anew, and they /hunger/ for their due."
You have emoted: The eidolon that had assisted Sibatti now comes in close, floating like an attendant as if spurred on by the an-Kiar's words. The Azudim's palm comes to rest in an enveloping spread across her chin, marking it similarly in a smear of crimson. "The hunger that knows no bounds. Their price will be paid, one way or another." She lifts up her deadwood quarterstaff in quiet tribute to Miazi, shrunken heads and fetishes dangling from bits of red string tied to it, and exits.
Before an enormous, sunken stone idol.
You find the weather around you imperceptible. Ringed in flowering hummocks of earth and foliage, and half-rusted with red lichen, a huge stone idol lies half-buried in the mire here; a few stoic pines loom over it as though standing vigil for a fallen ally. The soft chirping of frogs and crickets form a shrill counterpoint to the whispering of the canopy above, and the occasional splash breaks the quiet peace as one of the watery flat's inhabitants claims a meal. The watery plain comes to an abrupt end against the sheer cliffs of the eastern mountains, though a few waterlogged vines make a brave attempt at scaling the impassive surface here and there. Coiled about itself like an intricate spring, a serpent totem stands imposingly here. A wooden bowl has been placed in tribute next to the coiled serpent totem. Scattered near the foot of the totem is a shell fetish. A crude charm is here, a mark of the Shadow, Vo'acha.Shifting her weight from foot to foot in ill-contained tension, Miazi skulks about. A thick misting of blood covers the entire area, with deep ruts of mud and crimson creating a writhing pattern around the great cairn.
You see exits leading northwest and west.
Content warning: GORY.
<< Sib is standing at the Core with a few other people, when.... >>
Scanning the darkness of the land, twin reptilian eyes suddenly snatch up the ability to pull free your gaze. The scraping sound of something large and undulating echoes from the darkness as the glowing stare begins to move, eventually disappearing from sight.
Going to Dendara:
Before an enormous, sunken stone idol.
You find the weather around you imperceptible. Ringed in flowering hummocks of earth and foliage, and half-rusted with red lichen, a huge stone idol lies half-buried in the mire here; a few stoic pines loom over it as though standing vigil for a fallen ally. The soft chirping of frogs and crickets form a shrill counterpoint to the whispering of the canopy above, and the occasional splash breaks the quiet peace as one of the watery flat's inhabitants claims a meal. The watery plain comes to an abrupt end against the sheer cliffs of the eastern mountains, though a few waterlogged vines make a brave attempt at scaling the impassive surface here and there. Coiled about itself like an intricate spring, a serpent totem stands imposingly here. A wooden bowl has been placed in tribute next to the coiled serpent totem. Scattered near the foot of the totem is a shell fetish. A crude charm is here, a mark of the Shadow, Vo'acha.Shifting her weight from foot to foot in ill-contained tension, Miazi skulks about
You see exits leading northwest and west.
Miazi stands as a singular, dark figure beside the cairn, black cloak pulled tight around her willowy form. Her voice carries along the wind, graven tone reaching your ears. "He has waited for you, Esrytesh Sibatti." The wind that whips at her words also play havoc with the cloak wrapped around her. "Eons has he searched, and now you are here."
You have emoted: As Sibatti drops from her entbeast, she spies the familiar site of previous offerings before the serpent's totem. A few things have been carried with her: aberrations oozing their last. One is handed off to her other, accompanying spirit - a long and sinuous eidolon of the deep woods.
An eidolon of the deep woods:
Striking in its unearthly demeanor and makeup, the eidolon hovering before you abjures up imagery of various forestal creatures married together into a representation of the deep woods from whence it emerged. A pale bear skull serves as a harrowing focal point - a face, if one could call it that - permanently agape, fangs and teeth prominent with no skin or tissue to hide behind. Its maw is hollow and dark, as are the rest of the cavities one could peer into; an exception is granted for its cavernous eye sockets, where bright pinpricks of light grant life to an otherwise ghastly effigy. The back of its skull erupts into an epoccipital frill, covered by a wild mane of dark hair and half a dozen black and white quills, thick and coiled like tentacles that reach behind its head. The rest of its makeup is difficult to justify: its form takes on a vaguely serpentine curve, twisting upright in the space as an amalgation of bones, scales, hide and dark fur. There is an organized chaos in the body, mimicking the repeating patterns oft seen in nature, but applied illogically; feathers overlap with scales, and thick patches of white fur inconsistently contain spots or stripes. Two slender, vestigial forelegs covered in fuzzy gray down dangle from its midsection, each ending in large black talons grasping through the air. A pair of thicker hindlegs meld together partway into a single, serpentine tail ringed black and red. The tail moves in a slow, constant undulation, powering the eidolon's ghostly drift.
You have emoted: "Voice Miazi," Sibatti greets, her tone low. "His gaze found me."
An eidolon of the deep woods vanishes away the aberration offered to it, seemingly, its corrupted body lost within its own ghastly form.
Miazi turns her slow gaze towards the cairn, following your stare towards the various remnants of offerings passed. "How long have you courted him, Esrytesh?" She poses, lifting a predatory gaze that falls now onto you. "From the first blood offered in oath, or was it something else that caused you to align to his way?"
You have emoted: Sibatti's hands remain busy with the other aberration's remains, working swiftly so as not to keep its foul remains long within this sacred fragment of Dendara. A red string is drawn from her pouch and wound around its electrocuted 'head', before once again handing it off to the nearby eidolon, who dutifully takes it from her. Her hands now completely freed, her full focus now on Miazi, she answers the an-Kiar with, "My rebirth. The embrace of death, and the becoming of His Fang. My eyes shifted such."
The eerie, dry rasp of scales are first to answer as the Shadow moves, seemingly from all around.
Miazi answering sneer is punctuated by the harsh words that follow. "Any fool with a tongue can make such boastful claims; embrace death," she cries aloud over the new sound. Her voice seems to carry in this place, accompanied by that slow, continuous scraping. "So very few realize what that promise means, what the oath entails." Her chin juts forward, a challenge to you: "You think you have the strength to lead the Council forward in this time of blood and uncertainty? Will you purge away any weakness that remains, feeding upon in his name, in order to survive what comes?"
The darkness stirs around you, mass of flesh and scales that glint with the pervading touch of the moon. You realize that he is here already - lying in wait, surrounding you completely. As the Shadow's belly scrapes across the ground, you realize that his coil has begun to slowly encroach upon you.
You have emoted: Miazi's words bring a smile to Sibatti's dath-covered lips, the bloodflower petals inked upon them stretching and parting. She takes only as many steps as necessary to form a broader space in the sodden clearing, beckoning the eidolon closer as her smile parts even further to reveal her own fangs. Her eyes are shadowed behind her mask, but delight glimmers in them nonetheless. "His fangs will purge the world..." It is a phrase familiar to her, coming easy and dampened to a low roar by her particularly coarse and gravelly voice. "...Cleanse it of what makes it foul. The weak will not be permitted to thrive, my Shadow."
You say to an eidolon of the deep woods, "Purge."
An eidolon of the deep woods moves to follow the Azudim, bidden by her word, its ghostly drift sluggish and delayed. It has nothing to say, nor any real face to speak of, any resemblance perhaps existing for the comfort of mortal eyes. It sways into the clearing beside her, and where it halts it begins the process of slowly unkinking its sinuous body. Feathers shiver and scales scrape loudly as the sinuous spirit unfurls a bloom of its own in the form of purging itself of a hunt's worth of offerings absorbed within its being. The eidolon is squeezed of all its contents, vomiting out a waterfall of what it's processed - blood and blood alone, both dark and bright as it splatters into a messy puddle into already-sopping earth.
You think:
The blood that feeds the world.
Miazi's sneering visage slowly transforms as she listens, then watches, taking on the telltale signs of pure, unadulterated joy. As blood rains down in the darkness, her own eyes slide shut in an ecstasy that seems beyond her efforts alone. Her voice rises up, an echo of your own words: "His fangs will purge the world!"
The winding body of Vo'acha begins to pick up speed as he circles you, that ring of shadowed scales growing every closer. The earth slurps and squelches beneath the weight of him as he churns and twists, the sheer force of his movement throwing up thick droplets of blood anew. In the darkness of the night, the Shadow feasts.
You have emoted: The ground-shuddering movements of the Forestwalker has Sibatti opting to lower herself slowly to the ground, her heels already mired in the mess of her offering. Great stygian wings drape lovingly against the valley floor, black feathers dousing their tips in red. Her smile persists, growing only wider and more vicious, and she lays a palm flat to the ground if only it would bring her closer to the ecstasy of the feast. "No one lurks in the woods, when they surely know it means death," she whispers a quiet promise, like unlike prayer. "We will consume, or you will consume us."
And soon, every so slowly, the Shadow's ecstacy comes to a close. When finally his roiling stops, the head of the gargantuan Serpant lifts up to pierce you with his gaze, hood flaring wide. Crimson droplets streak along the entirety of him, painted in offering and revelry. Poised to strike, he stops as still as is his namesake, and considers you.
As his eyes fix you to the spot where you kneel, the rasping voice of something unfathomably larger than yourself explodes within the confines of your mind: STRIKE. KILL. CONSUME. DEVOUR WEAKNESS, FEED YOUR STRENGTH. FOR YOU ARE THE SHADOW THAT HUNTS WHAT WOULD DESTROY DENDARA.
You have emoted: A trembling energy is marked by the raspy whisper of Sibatti's outstretched wings as she holds her position, energy preserving. And then, she is pushing herself up off of the damp earth, standing upright in a posture befitting her monstrous confidence. Serpentine tail hissing through the air with her own, pent-up energies, she rumbles out her final tribute in discordant tones, like one sealing an oath: "WE WILL DO, OR DIE."
You think:
[ A thrill, ecstatic in communion, a heartbeat away from terror ].
And then Vo'acha strikes. His blow never lands, his great, hooded head seeming to move through you and onwards on his journey before being swallowed within the forests depths. You are struck by the realization that had your will been found wanting, you would no longer breathe.
"Go forth, Esrytesh Sibatti, and herald that which comes." Miazi calls aloud, still drenched head to toe in your offering. "The time of the Guardians has come anew, and they /hunger/ for their due."
You have emoted: The eidolon that had assisted Sibatti now comes in close, floating like an attendant as if spurred on by the an-Kiar's words. The Azudim's palm comes to rest in an enveloping spread across her chin, marking it similarly in a smear of crimson. "The hunger that knows no bounds. Their price will be paid, one way or another." She lifts up her deadwood quarterstaff in quiet tribute to Miazi, shrunken heads and fetishes dangling from bits of red string tied to it, and exits.
Before an enormous, sunken stone idol.
You find the weather around you imperceptible. Ringed in flowering hummocks of earth and foliage, and half-rusted with red lichen, a huge stone idol lies half-buried in the mire here; a few stoic pines loom over it as though standing vigil for a fallen ally. The soft chirping of frogs and crickets form a shrill counterpoint to the whispering of the canopy above, and the occasional splash breaks the quiet peace as one of the watery flat's inhabitants claims a meal. The watery plain comes to an abrupt end against the sheer cliffs of the eastern mountains, though a few waterlogged vines make a brave attempt at scaling the impassive surface here and there. Coiled about itself like an intricate spring, a serpent totem stands imposingly here. A wooden bowl has been placed in tribute next to the coiled serpent totem. Scattered near the foot of the totem is a shell fetish. A crude charm is here, a mark of the Shadow, Vo'acha.Shifting her weight from foot to foot in ill-contained tension, Miazi skulks about. A thick misting of blood covers the entire area, with deep ruts of mud and crimson creating a writhing pattern around the great cairn.
You see exits leading northwest and west.
Sibatti
10