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Messages - Attano

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1
Roleplaying / The Daughter
« on: April 19, 2018, 11:12:05 AM »
Mercy cocked her head to the side. She was an inch shorter than her father, standing at 5’ 7”, she had her father’s dark eyes and hair, but not his fair complexion. She had been told her tan skin was her mother’s, a woman from the deserts surrounding Tahgalez. She was supposedly an influential noble. Mercy didn’t care for that right now, she was focused on the present and the strange man sitting in her parlour.

He said he was twenty. He looked to be much older. His skin was a little darker than hers, his white robes were tattered and dusty, exposing an old brand on his chest that depicted an eye. His face, what was visible behind an unkempt and ragged beard, was disheveled. Heavy bags hung under his tired green eyes. His hands clutched a gnarled wooden staff.

“You are telling me that my father was resurrected by a Daimon and then literally walked into Hell?” She asked, her voice cold. The man sitting across from her nodded meekly. “You expect me to believe that?” He nodded again. “Who are you?”

“My Lady,” He began, his voice dry. “I was a priest in service to your father, The Last Tongue of The Gods.”

Mercy laughed coldly. “Don’t give me that Last Tongue crap. I don’t care if he was the leader of a cult.”

The man started to shake his head but the look in Mercy’s eye stopped him. “I am here to tell you that you are now head of your household here. I understand you are heading for Avengmil, no? Near the border to Ardmore there is a cache, marked by a lone tree, dead and split in twain. It has the answers to—“

“No.” Mercy flatly stated. She pointed to the door. The man promptly stood up and left. She shook her head.

Time to introduce herself.

Apostate sat by his tent in Avengmil, eating last night’s soup. The daughter would not listen, but he was persistent. The legacy of the Last Tongue must go on.

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Roleplaying / Blizzard of Light - Ardmore Portal Event
« on: April 18, 2018, 11:01:58 PM »
Blizzard of Light   (just in)
message to everyone in the vicinity of Ardmore
With the portal stones set deep underground, the earth had been pierced with the beam of light. With Erasmus' ritual underway for several days, the earth began to rumble, collapsing the flimsy peasant hovels. Nearby, humans had fought unnatural creatures upon trembling ground.

But now, in the dead of night, all intensified. The buzzing and crackling that accompanied portal light beams shifted into the pounding of wardrums, deafening all else. What had been merely a shaking ground now erupted into a full earthquake within Ardmore, collapsing monster dens. Which just so happened to release Jessica and Tom from their rogue imprisonment. The normally pure white beam of light darkened to a crimson red.

Deep underground, visible only to Erasmus, the ring of portal stones had lifted from where they had been set and rotated from horizontal to vertical. Within the circle, a portal to another world became visible. Several flashed by, fertile lands of green, black endless emptiness, pastel wonderlands.

Yet when Erasmus dramatically completed his esoteric ritual, the world beyond flashed into a hellish nightscape that swirled with black smoke. One could nearly smell the acrid air, when a claw shot forth from beyond, followed by a flaming foot. Erasmus dropped to his knees when a daimon stepped forth. Placing a claw upon the chest of Usul and Gythrul, daimonic words spoken, their eyes widened awake. Stepping back, the daimon admired his work as the two arose once more.

Above, unaware of the horrors occurring beneath their feet, many rejoiced at the cessation of the intolerably-deafening wardrums, that had occurred once the daimon had crossed over into Beluaterra. However, Arterius, Divus, and Vahanian failed to rejoice upon realizing they were permanently deaf to all sound. More visibly comforting, the light column had lightened from crimson to a relaxing blue hue, calming the panicked wildlife, and then back to its typical pure white. Yet not all was over yet, as without warning the light column exploded outward, forming a whiteout blizzard of lightflakes upon all in the region. Even that didn't seem all that bad however when the wounded discovered that they were not only healed, but felt a bit more youthful as well.

Back deep underground, none had spoken since Usul and Gythrul had risen. Inspecting them as one might expect a military doctor inspects a recruit, the daimon then, without a word, turned towards the portal. Usul and Gythrul followed, seemingly understanding that they were to follow the daimon back into the Netherworld to retire, being no more for this world. As they crossed into the portal and their new afterlife amongst daimonkind, the portal snapped shut, the portal stones having poofed into dust clouds that now floated to the ground.

It was now that the whiteout lightflake blizzard aboveground abruptly ceased, plunging Ardmore back into night's darkness. Except shortly, it was realized that it was not merely night's darkness that blocked their sight, but that Astros, Jessica, Jorvik, Lyndis, Radzik, and Serena found themselves permanently blinded from the intense light-blizzard they had just survived.

3
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 18, 2018, 11:01:06 PM »
Portal event. What was that Rania said about Gythrul finding no reward in the afterlife the first time he was in the cells of SOS?

4
Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 13, 2018, 04:06:53 PM »
Sooooo anyone spare a healing scroll?

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Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: April 11, 2018, 02:44:30 PM »
Here's my worry: Invasions can happen in a lot of ways, but last time it began with monster spawns from sea and rogue regions, which SOS is still completely surrounded by bc the southern monster spawns have been ridiculous. And if you think we're struggling now, wait till those invasion-level, 50k+ Rogue hordes start popping up again. If we don't find a way to populate and pacify the south, we'll loose it.

Sooo, I should unpack my Portal stuff?

6
Roleplaying / Service for Usul
« on: April 07, 2018, 09:05:11 AM »
Roleplay from Gythrul Attano
all nobles of Obia'Syela
Gythrul inclined his head as the black robed figure barred the basement door. “As you commanded,” the figure said, “the manor is empty. All the servants have been sent off for the day.” Gythrul nodded, satisfied. He was at his city quarters in Rines. The servants had been sent off under the pretence that their lord wished to be alone while he grieved. It was true, partly.

The one who had barred the door joined the the other five men before Gythrul. The basement’s heating forge was burning, making the basement, and the manor above, uncomfortably warm for this time of year.

Gythrul instructed the six men to kneel before turning. In the alcove in front of him was a small wooden totem. It was small enough to be carried in one hand, and was carved with Daimonic faces and symbols. He was disgusted that the ceremony was all that Usul would receive. A follower of Daishi would try to kill him, disregarding the fact that no temples of that faith existed in Obia’Syela. And no Obian would honor him.

The Wraith kneeled and bowed his head.

“Akkan. Jomorosh. Jactosh. Domina.” He rasped, the men behind repeating after him in unison. “Lords of the Netherworld, true rulers of Beluaterra, bringers of Truth. Hear the plea of the faithful. One of our comrades, Usul Soul, has fallen. We ask that you return his soul to us, or grant his servants the power to do so. If not, reforge his soul, make it something stronger, greater.” the Wraith raised his head and stared at the totem, the carvings appearing to shift. “And send him back to us when the Portals open.” Gythrul stood back up and turned to his followers.

“Truth guide him.” They echoed his words.

Gythrul turned and took the totem. He tapped it against his mask before casting it into the fire.

An hour later, he sat in his study. Like the rest of the manor, it was sparsely decorated, only a few bookshelves and two chairs by a fireplace were there.

Like during his service, he sat there in his plate armour and mask. He waited.

7
Beluaterra / Re: New undead threat?
« on: January 17, 2018, 03:43:43 AM »
... and Gythrul is undead.... sorry Obia’Syela.

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Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: December 29, 2017, 05:26:46 AM »
Diplomacy, Violence, and Pasta?  ;D
Hehe, those are among them.

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Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: December 28, 2017, 11:22:01 AM »
No worries. I have a few ideas as well.

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Other Games / Warhammer 40k/Age of Sigmar
« on: December 23, 2017, 03:26:27 PM »
Amy other Warhammer players out here? If so, what armies? Thoughts on Age of Sigmar and Dark Imperium?

11
Beluaterra / Re: Post BT News Here for our Facebook Page
« on: December 23, 2017, 07:36:37 AM »
Former Tongue of the Gods Gythrul Attano, who was executed by Gotland, is reportedly alive and well. Following these rumour, there have been sightings of a hooded skeleton.

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Beluaterra / Re: Sacred Obia'Syela
« on: December 23, 2017, 07:34:39 AM »
Got room for a wraith?

13
Roleplaying / Gythrul's Ressurection
« on: December 23, 2017, 07:32:54 AM »
Gythrul gasped as he opened his eyes. He lay nude on a stone slab, all around him were black robed people. He was in a stone room with little light.

"My Lord." One of the robed people said, their voice gravelly and unnatural.

"Where?" Gythrul questioned before a light filled his mind.

An hour, maybe two pasted before Gythrul opened his eyes again.

"You." He said, pointing to the robed figure he had spoken to earlier. He noticed the person was holding a book.

"I assume you did this?"

The person bowed his head. "WE did. We have raised you."

Gythrul nodded. "Prepare a bath." He ordered.

He rose from the bloody bath tub and gazed and his hands, cleaned of flesh. His eye sockets burned with green witchfire. He turned to one of his robed attendants. "Burn my organs."

The skeleton that was Gythrul stood in the armoury of his Castle. The castle he ruled from when he lorded over the region. He commanded his cultists to put on a suit of plate armour.

The steel was darkened. The armour was relatively plain save for a golden Daemonic eye motif on the chest piece.

Gythrul let his cultists place and burial shroud around his shoulders and he drew up its hood.

He placed a broadsword in his scabbard.

He had returned.

14
BM General Discussion / Re: New Player Experience
« on: September 01, 2017, 02:33:37 PM »
I REALLY like the idea of the Civ-like quests, it should definitely help.

Chenier, if you want I'll chuck it in a feature request.

15
East Island / Re: Greater Xavax Imperium
« on: August 31, 2017, 12:18:27 AM »
*resists urge to make Palpatine joke*

EDIT: I just realised this isn't on the page with the senate stuff -_-

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