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13 hrs ago
Current Siri, what’s the melting point of people?
2 mos ago
Millipedes only have 256 legs, not 1,000 despite milli- meaning “thousand”. The fucking liberals have indoctrinated us with yet another lie. I’M FUCKING SICK OF IT! I AM A BOY SQUIRTER AND I AM PISSED
2 mos ago
JESUS WAS A JENKEM HALLUCINATION THE ISRAELITES FERMENTED THEIR SEWAGE AND HUFFED IT TO GET HIGH AS FUG GOOGLE THAT SHIT, IT’S ALL 100% TRUE & AM RADIO WILL SET UR SOUL FREE
3 mos ago
plzz remeber 2 always were ur mask in public 🥺 donot let ur nose be thru top of mask it let the COVIDVIRUS out ur body😱 wash ur hands and never eat other peple food only u can save other pepole live
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11 mos ago
I made my house a bird rehabilitation center on Google maps so I can eat all the baby birds the people find on the ground
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lol who gives a shit

Most Recent Posts

Awesome collaboration @Lauder & @Cyclone. Collaborative posts can sometimes be awkward, but yours was was great. Great introduction to Razzak and great worldbuilding also. Looking forward to more Fauzzak posts!
This looks interesting! I've deliberated over it for a couple days. I'd like to make a revenant minor that'll be reaninated for my first post - is anyone who plays a revenant major looking for a lackey?

I'll make the sheet ASAP that'll depict who she'll be but I'm thinking some sort of tactician with a sword, capable of light armoured/mounted combat as well as an advisor for her superior(s). Unflinchingly loyal but also getting to grips with undeath so she's a bit more lively than most.

Edit: finished the sheet.



Glad to have you! We still have plenty of room. And a lady, no less! The undead dominion was getting to be a bit of a sausagefest. I already have two characters and will introduce another minor character in the next post or two, so I will open the floor to anyone wanting a lackey. If not, I could definitely work the Silver Blade into a plot arc with Theleden or Abbot if you don’t get any takers.
Hello! I find the premise of this roleplay absolutely intriguing. One question - would I be allowed to control both a Revenant Major and Minor? I came up with two ideas I really enjoy for characters, but I then realized they would be even better as foils to each other that frequently had to rub elbows(or, in this instance, humerus...es? Humeri?).


Thank you for the interest! You are absolutely welcome to control two (or more) characters.
I really dig this setting and the characters that have already been submitted. While my writing skills are a bit rusty, I would love to give this a go.

A few questions that may or may not be necessary to answer:

1. How do you, and can you kill an undead?
2. What is the source of necrotic power in this world?
3. Are there any gods/religions of note?
4. What currency if any is circulated?

Thanks!


First of all, it is great to see you again Poly! Sybax is gladly accepted and being so close, I hope to interact with him regularly. In response to your questions:

1. Undead are exceedingly difficult to "kill" as one would expect. Hacking an arm off will almost certainly kill a living warrior due to blood loss and shock, but an undead warrior will continue fighting. This is why the undead were able to conquer all of Leria with only a handful of notable defeats. Decapitation is perhaps the easiest way to dispatch undead - the body will collapse but the head may still continue to function. Complete destruction of the head is the only way to actually kill an undead with purely physical means, and is wonderfully illustrated in Oraculum's first post. Theleden, as a living warrior against the undead, used fire to destroy large swathes of undead at Esteline and Sour Bridge, either by completely immolating them or burning them to the point that they were no longer capable of fighting. There may also be some magical means of destroying undead. Perhaps there is a way to siphon the necrotic power out of a cadaver. I haven't considered such a possibility until now, but am open to such a thing so long as it is extremely rare/difficult to accomplish.

2. Undead are reanimated by the power of the Ritual of Undeath. Eagoth first discovered this phenomenon and recognized its potential. It is a very magic-intensive spell, and so only very powerful wizards like Eagoth are able to accomplish it. Eagoth eventually was able to delegate the Ritual to his undead lackies by supplying them with crystals imbued with arcane power. Eagoth saw handing over what were essentially batteries full of arcane energy as a liability, and stopped doing this. He now collects energy from the Spire of Rutile to continuously pump necrotic power into the earth via the lightning strikes illustrated in my first post.

3. Cyclone's first post mentions Zealots in a realm called Luminara, which implies some sort of religious crusade against the Undeath. There is also Incredible John's quasi-religion that depicts Eagoth as a messiah of sorts. Additionally, my first post shows that there was some sort of religious institution in Leria prior to the Undeath. The God(s) it revered, or what it stood for, are probably almost completely forgotten by the undead.

4. Cyclone has hit the nail on the head and I will refer you to his answer on this.

This is Hell, he thought to himself once again. I am dead, and this is Hell.

His thoughts echoed through the void. Even silence can reverberate through such interminable darkness. He couldn't say for sure what he had done to deserve an eternity of solitude in the endless void; he couldn't even remember his name. An unknowable amount of time was spent trying to recall his life before this. It was much like trying to recall a dream long after awaking: he could only faintly recall an unrelated collection of memories and sensations, unable to make sense of any of it.

Fleeting snapshots of scenes from his life were projected upon the empty blackness. Illuminated by candlelight, he watched his hand scribble into an open tome with a ratty quill. Another memory from early in his life: a flock of cackling seagulls scattering into the sky ahead of him as youthful feet splashed into seafoam on some pebbly beach. In one more mundane memory, he recalled evening twilight shining through multicolored facets of a window of stained glass. Nothing about any mortal sin that would condemn him to an eternity of maddening solitude.

As he tried to peer deeper into what little recollection he possessed of his life, the perpetual silence of the void was interrupted. A distant crunch, followed by the tearing of earth somewhere up above him. The sound gradually grew closer and closer, until a resonant thud reverberated right before him.

“Careful now,” he heard a voice call out somewhere above him. “These are old graves. Coffins are all half-rotted away by now and we don't want to hurt whatever's in there.”

A second thud, as loud as the first, rang out through the darkness.

“Enough! Gimme the shovel, Grumble. I'm not letting you get us sent off to the Locus 'cause you busted up another corpse. Dumb ghoul..."

The pittering of loose soil and gravel could be heard just before him. A groan and subsequent popping of nails as the coffin's lid was pried open, and for the for the first time in a long time indeed, he could see.

Staring down a freshly-dug grave were two half-rotten wights against an overcast sky. Both caked in thick mud from the grave they had just dug up. One was missing its jaw; its tongue lolled out from under the skull as it stared dumbly down into the old casket. The other wight was better preserved, save for a missing right eye. With his remaining eye, he studied the contents of the coffin that they had just unearthed.

"This one's in rather good condition. Let's get him out."

The two wights extracted the contents of the unearthed casket, pulling a half-mummified cadaver by the shoulders out of the muddy pit up onto the earth, unceremoniously depositing him face-down onto the scraggly grass of an overgrown and forgotten cemetery. The disinterred corpse surveyed his new surroundings, too stupefied to even pull himself onto his feet.

"Where am I?" The cadaver croaked with much difficulty, having almost forgotten how to speak.

"Hmmm, this one can still think," said the one-eyed ghoul. "Been a while since we dug up one who can think."

"Where am I?" He asked again. "Is this Hell?"

"Hell?" The one-eyed ghoul gave a thoughtful scratch of the jaw with the tip of his shovel, leaving a smear of soil on his half-decayed chin. "I don't think so. I think the master said this place was an old priory... whatever that is." The jawless ghoul gave a nod of affirmation, causing his tongue to waggle back and forth.

The freshly-exhumed ghoul pushed himself up off the ground and gave a look around. They were in a clearing in the middle of a dense wood of gnarled, overgrown trees. It hosted a dozen or so ancient gravestones, piled high beside each was a tall mound of muddy earth; tailings from the wide pits dug directly in front of each grave marker. The mud-caked lids of caskets were tossed carelessly about the graveyard, unwanted husks cast off of from the prize within. And at the far end of the clearing, some distance away from the graves, was a moss-covered mass of rubble sprouting with weedy maple saplings - too large and too square to be a natural outcropping of boulders. In the dim light of the overcast sky, the exhumed ghoul noticed a few shards of stained glass amidst the rubble and vines.

The sound of hoof and footfalls drew the attention of the ghouls away from their surroundings. Approaching from a rut path in the woods came a procession of living dead toting shovels and other digging implements. Leading the procession was revenant minor seated upon the back of a withered horse with shreds of leather and sinew hanging loosely from a snout of exposed bone. A cuirass of rusted chainmail clinked faintly with each step of his steed. Two undead hounds flanked the rider, sniffing the crisp air regularly as they went along with their master.

"Did you find anything useful?" The revenant asked, trotting up toward the three.

"Yes!" The one-eyed ghoul exclaimed, casting a glance with his remaining eye to the corpse they had just unearthed. "This one still thinks."

"This region has rich soil and I am surprised to find bodies in good condition here. Surprised, but pleased."

"You there," snapped the revenant, turning in the saddle toward the new ghoul, "Do you recall anything from your life?"

"I recall this place," the exhumed ghoul said, remembering the shards of stained glass from the ruins of the nearby building. "I do not know how, but I recall this place and little else. I do not know how I came to know this place nor who I was."

The revenant glanced quickly to the headstone marking the grave from which the exhumed ghoul was dug. It was little more than a nubbin of weathered limestone poking out of the grass and moss like a worn, rotten tooth. Any name or markings had worn off a hundred years ago.

"Typical. Few of us remember anything from life," said the revenant. "This place appeared on some old maps as an abbey of some sort. Perhaps you were an abbot, which leads me to believe you are a mite smarter than this lot of dumb ghouls."

"Ah-uh?" The jawless ghoul moaned, trying to sound out 'abbot'. The horsed revenant gave a roll of his white eyes.

The abbot looked down to his hands once again, and noticed that his fingernails had fallen off of his grayed and desiccated digits.

"What happened to us? Are we dead?"

"Oh, right! We'll need to give this one the talk." The one-eyed ghoul remembered. "We need to tell him everything that's happened."

"The talk can wait," the revenant said dismissively. "Give him a shovel. For now, he digs."




Intermittent flashes of green lightning illuminated the land for brief moments in a sickly glow - the closest thing to sunlight that the gloomy environs of Necron ever saw. So dark was this country that all trees and vegetation had died long ago for want of sunlight. Barren snag trees sprouting polypores were all that remained of the verdant woodlands of the Rhanean hill country, and mushrooms and dense lichen beds covered the bare soil in lieu of wildflower-riddled grassland. The lichens and fungi, prolific as they were, did little to check the erosive damage of the frequent rains that fell upon this bleak country. Rain furrows carved deep gorges into the land all the way to slate bedrock which terminated in fetid, muddy ponds. Not that the erosion mattered; these lands were too sun-depraved to grow crops of any use to the undead who had ruled this country for so long.

Difficult though it might have been to imagine, this depauperate, utterly-exhausted country was in fact the nexus of the undead empire. Indeed, the ebon towers of Necron could be seen rising out of the eastern horizon like skeletal fingers up to the roiling tempest that hung perpetually above the city. Easily dwarfing all the other edifices of Necron's skyline was the Spire of Rutile, which served simultaneous as fortress, Eagoth's residence and library, and also as a mammoth lightning rod. Even here, some three leagues out of the sprawling undead metropolis, the Spire could still be seen. It illuminated the surrounding lands with stochastic flashes of lightning that struck it so frequently along with the the only other structure of import in this otherwise empty place: the Westward Way.

This was the main overland route into and out of the undead capital. It was a wide stone-paved highway that wound through the gentle hills west of Necron before turning south toward Comiriom and the Neck. Typically, the Way received a considerable amount of traffic - wagons full of supplies for the myriad industries of the undead capital passed couriers and others on official business for the Great Necromancer. Today however, the Way was traveled only by Theleden and his entourage.

Shod hooves clattered upon the slimy cobblestones over the distant rumble of thunder from the Spire of Rutile as Theleden's destrier cantered along. His steed, though unliving - of course, had few signs of decay and most of those were covered under a sheet of fine horsemail. Flanking the Theleden on either side were a cadre of mounted revenants. Each held high a lance affixed with a banner of black grubsilk. Embroidered on the fluttering banners was the right hand of white skeletal bone: Theleden's sigil. And behind them, on foot, were the halberd-wielding Skeleton Guard clad in their heavy platemail. With impossible synchrony, the Skeleton Guard marched in unison - their bootfalls sounding all at once as they kept pace behind Theleden and the horsed revenants minor. Some revenants major found the unified march of the Skeleton Guard maddening, particularly when accompanying them on long journeys such as this. Theleden, however, appreciated their rhythmic footfalls and much preferred it to the random peal of thunder that was heard constantly throughout Necron. He found their marching more conducive to thought.

Not that Theleden had any trouble with that. After all, it was thoughts that had prompted this journey from Necron to begin with: disconcerting thoughts that the Right Hand of Eagoth could simply not forget. Or perhaps 'vision' was a more appropriate word? Such distinctions were far outside of his area of expertise. Theleden knew his duty was to govern Necron and the subordinate provinces of the undead empire in his master's stead - nothing more. But to serve Eagoth in this function, Theleden needed total concentration. It was a challenging charge that the Great Necromancer had left him with and there was no room for distraction.

But what were these visions? Some were memories from life, vestiges left behind that the Cleansing had failed to remove, and those were unpleasant enough for Theleden. But some visions Theleden was quite sure were not from his life before. Were these visions of things that had yet to come? Or things that might have been? Theleden had to silence these thoughts, if not know their meaning.

Ostensibly, Theleden had undergone this journey to check the progress of Eagoth's revenants major and ensure that the collection of resources for the war against the living was proceeding smoothly. There had been no dishonesty when he reported his desire to make this journey to the Great Necromancer. But most important to Theleden was to end these maddening visions. Theleden had omitted that detail. Certainly not out of dishonesty - but for the sake of brevity. The Great Necromancer need not concern himself with such trivial things. Instead, Theleden would seek the counsel of the authority among the dead in matters of visions.

On the right side of the road came an old granite milestone from before the Undeath. A thick blanket of frilly orange lichen covered much of its surfaces, but the inscribed distances had been wiped clear either by ghoul laborers or travelers. It seemed some alterations had been made since the time of Eagoth, as some locales had been crossed out and others crudely added by an uneducated ghoul.

Narren - 18 Leagues
Comiriom - 54 Leagues
Vardo's Bridge - 72 Leagues
Ludire - 88 Leagues
Yzen - 109 Leagues
LOKUS - 152 LEAGES

"How far is it then, master?" Asked one of the horsed revenants.

"At this pace," Theleden paused for a moment to consider, "it will take ten days to reach the White City."
Working through post #1 atm. Have not had a lot of time on my hands lately but I think I can get it out today or maybe tomorrow.
To anyone interested in this check, this was cross-posted in both NRP and Advanced. The Advanced check received much more interest, and so that is where the roleplay has been posted. You can find it here.
Question @gorgenmast. Can the revenant majors give their minors the same level of autonomy as themselves? I plan on Urgun giving his circle as much free thought as he does if that's alright.

Oh and do you mind if I wrote a sheet for a revenant minor I'd play in the background? Just to mix up the Order of the Savior.


Revenant minors are autonomous, yes. Even ghouls can have autonomy. I have no problem with that. As for a sheet on one of your Revenant minors, not necessary at all, but you are absolutely welcome to do so.

@Terminal I really dig Rixis. I appreciate how you have baked in some serious character flaws. Really intrigued by the concept of the Dead Sea. Seems like a potential superweapon/Achilles Heel for Eagoth that opens up some great plot directions. No need to change anything at all, full steam ahead!
I felt like Hrein was somewhat boring and edgy at the end of the day, so I pulled off the old switcheroo.

I think Faustus will be a much more interesting figure, and that he will have more opportunity for interaction with all the other various characters.


While I did not feel that Hrein was boring and had plenty of potential, I agree that Faustus is even better and has so much more potential than Hrein. Faustus will be a very important character as one of very few undead spies at Eagoth’s disposal - even if espionage is not Faustus’ true passion. Very excited to see where you take him. Gladly accepted!

On the road now, but I’m going to try to bang out my character sheet
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