Avatar of LordOfTheNight
  • Last Seen: 5 mos ago
  • Joined: 8 yrs ago
  • Posts: 436 (0.15 / day)
  • VMs: 3
  • Username history
    1. LordOfTheNight 8 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current How did I not know that there was going to be a Dune movie staring Jason Momoa, Josh Brolin, and Oscar Issac?!
1 like
4 yrs ago
If anyone has a friend who is a professional hitman, send them my way please. Having a car that doesn't have windows that roll up SUCKS!
4 yrs ago
Monster of the Week RPGs are hard to come by. I got one going on a weekly basis but if I could I'd do it daily
4 yrs ago
These trials make us who we are, we're motivated by the scars we're made of
1 like
5 yrs ago
Still working on packing my stuff to move out. Nearly done, just bear with me
2 likes

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts



"No harm done....literally and metaphorically" he said with a chuckle and a grin. Her brother might have felt just a bit different if she'd used the blade. Thankfully that hadn't been the case and thankfully he hadn't gotten more injured than he already was. Still, it did beg the question as to the why she was on edge. He was judging by her posture and demeanor that something had happened as she took his shirt and used The Art to clean the garment. The way she wrung her hands and seemed lost in her own thoughts. He was patient as he put the shirt back on and waited for her to speak. He raised an eyebrow when she eventually spoke in vague terms. 'It spoke to me' was incredibly vague and unhelpful but she thankfully continued by explaining that she'd heard from That Which Breathes Below. He sat and listened when she eventually asked about the stories their Cor O'Si used to tell.

"Vaguely. Though I'm also kinda hazy this morning..." he admitted. He was indeed following but he felt a bit embarrassed he wasn't recalling the stories. Not exactly anyway. A biproduct of too much drinking, a few too many blows, and a rambunctious childhood. He felt some of the fog clear a bit as she mentioned the stories of pilgrims who would journey great distances to see the temples of the Old and New Gods, that the presence of such deities caused physical harm to those who weren't prepared for the encounter.

"I remember her mentioning how her father would journey to Ar Shanta to make offerings to Tel'Aral for a good hunt" he recalled. She continued to mention her encounter and how it felt: the pain, the voice or voices sending an icy chill through her. He frowned a bit. It did sound like That Which Breathes Below and it didn't bode well. She took his hand and pondered if what their grandmother had said was true, if this was the beginning of another terrible end. He rubbed her hand reassuringly and sighed through his nose. "I don't know. I believe you saw something and you aren't one to lie, that's my job. I say we put this behind us for now until we know more. One occurrence doesn't necessarily mean the end times" he assured her. He pat her hand an offered a warm and reassuring smile.

"Until then, I got a lead on something that might interest you" he said as he produced a parchment from his pocket. The parchment was a map with a path that lead from the Shining City to Crescent Moon Canyon. The details written on the map denoted that something was occurring there. A dig of some sort. "I heard from a good source that there was a Masari site uncovered here. Biggest and best preserved they'd ever seen. If we get lucky, we might be able to get there and find a few things worth our time and worth someone else's money" he said with a smile.

• Ar Shanta - "The Elder Tree" Temple of the Hunter
• Tel'Aral - "The Hunter" God of the Hunt






WORK IN PROGRESS!


The wamphyri lord watched with a mixture of curiosity and morbid glee as the strange creature leaped from slave to slave, draining them as a water deprived slave drains water skins as she was soon the only one standing amidst the dead. The creature was now reborn, standing even taller than himself. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he'd have even doubted that this female had once truly been a decaying corpse. Now it stepped forward and leaned in to examine him. While the one with him stepped back nervously, Ferenczy stood still as a statue, or perhaps more apt a corpse, as she examined him and began speaking his name with some difficulty. To his keen ears he could sense that her vocal chords were still forming. Even on top of that, the syllables seemed a bit unfamiliar and clumsy in her mouth. Despite all that, she'd done something quite peculiar; she called him by name. Soon enough she began speaking of things long since consumed by the shifting sands of time itself. His head tilted the slightest fraction of an inch. The movement was....unnatural. It was too smooth, too mechanical, like a wheel turning.

"Fascinating. Truly fascinating" he mused, mostly to himself. She'd uttered names that stirred up ancient memories. Pain, the scent of excrement and urine, the taste of blood and dust, and the madness, gods the madness. He could remember vaguely through the haze of insanity wandering through the cruel deserts. He could remember being so hungry for blood that he'd began ripping the skin off of his own face. Gods how long had he been that way? A wild animal set loose in a place that wasn't meant for him. An animal that soon enough adapted to survive. Keen senses that burned through the fog and gave him clarity. A caterpillar that had emerged into a deadly butterfly. A slight condescending smile began to curl at the edges of his mouth as he finally took a moment to reply to this woman he realized he knew.

"Longer than you Ne'hekara" he purred. He glanced to sarcophagus that once entombed her and felt that smile grow even more till the tips of his cruel fangs were peeking out from his lips. "A queen entombed in her own palace but powerless to do anything about it. A bitter irony indeed" he mused. His thoughts moved at inhuman speeds as he soon felt a thought come to the front of his undead mind. He glanced back to his underling and with the wave of a finger, he summoned them forth. "This woman is our guest. Escort her to the upper chambers, call for fresh water, fresh clothes, and.....food if she so desires it" he said with a cruel and knowing smile. He turned to leave but stopped, glancing back to who had once been the Black Empress.

"We have much to discuss, you and I" he uttered with a wicked smile.

After some time had passed and Ne'hekara had been properly fed, washed, and clothed; Lord Ferenczy entered the room she'd been given and took a moment to look around. The room had fine enough accommodations and was decorated with several of her now inactive Immortals, skeletal machines that appeared to be made from a strange black metal. The skeletal figures were all distinct in one way or another to each other and all were nearly as old as the spire itself. All still radiated the faintest amount of magic. Thibor took a seat at a table and looked to the former Black Empress and smiled wickedly. "I trust my servants have given you all that you needed, minus perhaps the answers you are likely seeking" he mentioned, motioning to a seat across from him so that they could speak in a civil manner.

"As you likely have noticed, much time has passed since the last time we saw one another. The sands of these lands have shifted and forgotten of your reign as it's dark queen, forgotten the horrors that my kind once wrought across the lands of the Old World, and that is precisely what we want" he said with a smooth, no nonsense voice. He wasn't speaking out of turn, wasn't stating an opinion, he was declaring an unarguable fact that time had passed and that the memories of mortals were short indeed.





Tharos moved through the back alleys and side streets of the Shining City as best as he could without being noticed. True, if he was thinking clearly he'd might have gathered his will and opened a rift into his home using the Void Magic that he and his sister were born with. Alas, his head was muddled with alcohol and bruises. He hissed as he stepped on a sharp stone and took a moment to sit down, rubbing the injured appendage. How he'd managed to lose ANOTHER boot he'd never know. Somewhere around the city was a left boot with no foot to fill it and no match nearby. He chuckled at the thought as he eventually began his hobbling back towards home. He wasn't looking forward to the look she'd likely give him but it was one he was used to by now. Just had to bear his teeth and endure it he supposed. It didn't take long before Tharos was standing in the shadow of their home. He was prepared to try and come into the house quietly but alas, his sister it seemed had been prepared for company of the worst sort as he stood in the threshold and blinked at the sight of her concentrated spell and the dagger she was preparing to draw.

"Expecting a burglar?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled when she mentioned scaring her. "If it is any consolation, you scared me Thessi. I didn't know what to expect but my sister prepared to fight to the death wasn't it" he said as he closed and locked the door behind him. He stood a bit sheepishly as she examined his injuries. His nose had been straightened a bit but it wasn't his most clean work. He rolled his eyes when she mentioned their father. The man was too worried about their reputation and image. More apt he was more worried about HIS reputation and image. He was going to bite his tongue on that matter though. He'd made his feelings known about this for years now. He hissed as she properly fixed his nose now and sighed a bit in relief. He gave up the blooded shirt for her as she left him to clean himself up and raised an eyebrow as she insisted he meet her in the 'study' when he was finished. He took some time to wash the blood and dirt off his person and before long he'd had his hair tied back and a proper pair of clean clothes on.

"Alright, no longer look like I've been dragged by a cart; what is this you said about something strange. I'm ASSUMING it has something to do with how you greeted me earlier" he said with a raised eyebrow as he took a seat and rubbed his bruised face





It had been at least 2 weeks since the Zitan by the name "Twitch" had left the Shining City. Twitch preferred being in the deserts rather than the cities that were within the stone barriers that shielded them. True, he found it all fascinating as an outsider but being an outsider also meant he was different and often despised. He made his peace with it and generally kept to himself. After all he was allotted the chance to explore the deserts and the remains of the Masari thanks to his employers and friends; Thessi and Tharos. Not many took well to Skavvers like himself. After all they were quite unpleasant and alien looking compared to the foreigners, though he'd likely say the same thing if the roles were reversed. He supposed he could understand the general animosity he supposed. It was the eyes he wagered, too many of them.

Thessi and Tharos however were different. The Twins had recognized he had a talent and didn't mean any harm. After a time, they employed him. After a bit more, they befriended him and even allowed him to keep some of the things he found out in the Dune Seas. In his time he'd managed to not only find a Masari Sentinel that was in relatively good condition but all the parts to get it operational again. True, it wasn't in pristine condition but Masari artifacts were second to none. You couldn't do better if you'd tried. Needless to say, that machine was quite useful out in the deserts when Twitch was alone. It wasn't easily killed either and could be dismissed into a small floating machine that could materialize and de-materialize the Sentinel. Quite impressive! Twitch wasn't quite sure how it was made, how it worked, or why but that was half the fun after all.

Now he was stuck in the Dune Sea and unable to move his skimmer. He examined the skimmer as night came about and shook his head in exasperation. He wasn't going to be able to salvage the skimmer or the items on board. Not all of them anyway. He tapped his chitinous finger against his jaw as he looked around and came to the conclusion that rather than abandon everything, he could build a sled that he could physically pull and save some of the more valuable artifacts. The Zitan started by summoning the Sentinel and instructing it to stand watch for intruders in a given perimeter (thank the Makers that it picked up on his sign language) as he set to work salvaging wood and rope to build a large enough sled that he could comfortably pull and still save as much as possible. It was crude but it would serve him well enough.

A shrill screech caught Twitch's attention as the large humanoid machine sprang to life and drew it's shield and spear. Twitch looked around to see there was nothing of note until he caught the machine's gaze at the cliffs above. Twitch didn't suspect it was an animal. It didn't smell like an animal anyway. He scanned the edge and could only assume perhaps it was an outsider.

"You.....outsider? Hide......on.....cliff?" he called out. He didn't speak the common tongue well. It was clumsy and required a bit of concentration to communicate in such a way. A by product of being an insect like creature that developed in a different manner than the more mammalian creatures that roamed these deserts...
- Added a new plot -


"Many are the faces of the enemy, and many are the hands which do its work. I trust no-one and spare no effort until I am satisfied that all of Chaos' servants are purged from this place" - Inquisitor Silas Hand, Ordo Malleus

Inquisitors. Hunters of the Imperium of Man. While the Imperial Guard receive the glory and honor, the hunters of the Inquisition toil in the shadows of the Imperium weeding out that which wishes to be hidden. Cancers of the Imperium that seek to destroy the Imperium of Man from within rather than without. The traitor, the mutant, the heretic; these are the prey of the Ordo Hereticus and it is this secretive order that our story falls upon. In the underbelly of 'Lorrin's Inferno', a rumor has begun to rise within the ranks of the Hereticus of a traitorous group known simply as 'The Silent Separatists' that has been gaining power within the Hive City. So much so that there are whispers that the Separatists intend to finally step into the light in open defiance. Something known as 'Darkest Night'. The Ordo Hereticus has taken interest in these matters and has assigned it's finest agents to weed out the Separatists and crush the rebellion before they can do harm to the Imperium....


This is obviously an Inquisitor story. One that will not be centered on mutants and aliens but rather the threat of traitors within the Imperium itself. As stated above, we would be playing members of the Ordo Hereticus and be investigating the rumors of the Silent Separatists. As we dig and investigate, slowly our Inquisitors will begin to discover that there is indeed more to the Separatists than was first thought and that they may in fact be a true threat to the very Imperium itself.

Below are some images of some Inquisitors I would love to use as characters. At most, I would like to see a team of 4 but I am perfectly fine playing 2 as well!

Male Inquisitors:
Revaan Garrick
Helstrein Greykin
Mordecai Barbosa
Thane von Hroth
Marious Canto

Female Inquisitors:
Celia von Ryke
Danika Thrail
Vakenna van Keel
Tasha Credar
Fae Emeldus





"Though we stand tall within our Knights, we are not above the laws of men. Let every tyrant tremble in my sight should he think himself immune. As long as I draw breath the guilty will be punished, be they xenos invader, cursed traitor or highborn criminal." - Freeblade Dyros 'The Scorched Knight'

Knights, relics of a forgotten age. Armored machines of war and symbols of the heroes of old. Where ever these noble warriors are found, death is sure to follow. Though many of these knights serve ancient and noble houses, some of these titanic beings have forsaken their houses for one reason or another and have taken to roaming the stars in search of that which drives them: honour, vengeance, penance. These knights often become myths and legends among those lucky enough to be in their shadows; "Atgos the Silent", "Blade of Finality", "Dauntless Valour". Some of these Freeblades are happy to wander the universe alone. Others band together in the darkness, shining beacons that bring hope to the hopeless...

We would be playing a group of Freeblades who have banded together to roam the universe aboard the Dauntless Class Light Cruiser "Break of Dawn" with their own private army. Diligently, they serve the Emperor and go where the fight takes them. These Freeblades operate as an independent entity that serve the Imperium for one reason or another, free of the constraints of their houses and free to seek out any engagement that requires their attention; for these Freeblades have not only learned to be skilled warriors but accomplished diplomats and merchants. I anticipate us playing the main pilots of the Imperial Knights and their respective scouts that make up their packs. I imagine at most we'll be playing a total of 3 unique characters each for a total of 6
BUMP!



Beneath The Black Spire
Deep Deserts
2 weeks ago...


For months, the slaves in the catacombs beneath the spire had been whispering of a voice that called to them in their dreams. The voice of a woman that beckoned them to dig into the stone and to dig deep, that she was waiting for them to free her and would reward them graciously. At first, it seemed like nothing more than an urban legend. Lord Ferenczy had responded by throwing the mortals into the Reaver pens where they were killed and they themselves became Reavers. However, the whispers persisted still. Shai'this wasn't an idiot. The whispers were happening for a reason and he couldn't ignore them forever, let alone keep throwing slaves to the Reavers. So, Ferenczy responded by telling the overseers to allow the slaves to dig and to report to him if they found anything of significance.

At first, he heard nothing. Months passed and Shai'this had nearly given up when one of the overseers came running into his chambers. The slaves had discovered an anti-chamber deep beneath the spire. What's more, there was a sarcophagus that appeared to be sealed tight. Ferenczy walked with purpose with the underling through the catacombs towards the dig site, his blood red eyes glowing in the dark. When he spoke, he had a voice that sounded like rolling thunder. Like the voice of a god (or a devil). It demanded you listen and held power in it's baritone.

"Have the slaves disturbed the sarcophagus?" the Lord asked as he moved ahead, the underling doing his best to keep in toe with his master.

"No, my lord. The slaves are eager to open it however. As we grew closer and closer to breaking ground into the antechamber, their dreams became more frequent to the point they were having waking dreams" the underling said. Interesting. Whatever was in the sarcophagus had a great deal of power, there was no doubt of that.

"Do we know how old the sarcophagus is?" he asked. The underling shook his head before speaking.

"Not exactly, my lord. Our mages theorize however that both the sarcophagus and the antechamber are nearly as old as the Spire itself" he said. Shai'this' mouth twitched into a slight smirk. Perhaps whatever was in the sarcophagus could give him the secrets of the spire and explain why it was built in the first place. A wamphyri warrior passed by them, dragging a dead slave behind him. The corpse looked broken, bones jutting out of the skin and the head lulling back at an unnatural angle. The elder lord looked to his underling for an explanation. "The antechamber is several stories beneath our feet. When we broke through, the slave fell to the ground below" he explained. The wamphyri chuckled. Such weak and fragile creatures. So easily broken. As Lord Ferenczy approached the hole, he stepped onto the open air. He fell 4 stories down and landed without even a sound, his underling following as well and landing just as silently. Flickering light lit the chamber as 6 slaves formed a perimeter around the sarcophagus. It was black like obsidian but didn't seem to be made of stone but instead metal. Curious indeed. What was more curious was that the metal appeared to be radiating magical energy that made the wamphyri's hair stand on end.

The slaves twitched and shifted with their torches and tools in hand, eager to open the sarcophagus and combating the primal parts of their minds telling them to run from the immortal predators in the room. Shai'this glanced at the slaves who looked to him for confirmation. The lord raised his clawed hand and signaled for the slaves to go ahead. The slaves lunged all at once in a frenzy, quickly trying to move the lid of the metal coffin. The slaves strained and seemed prepared to destroy their own muscles in the process but it appeared too heavy for six healthy slaves to move. It had to weigh more than 700 pounds. The slaves looked to their master, fearing punishment. Lord Ferenczy scowled slightly, causing the slaves to flinch before he sighed in annoyance.

"Pathetic creatures" he growled quietly as he calmly approached the sarcophagus. He slipped his clawed fingers beneath the lid and lifted, straining only slightly as he flipped the lid onto the floor with a loud thud that cracked the stone it hit. Shai'this looked inside and frowned. Inside was merely the remains of some mummified corpse that held a small green crystal, it's parchment like skin tight and showing the skeleton beneath. It had been a woman at one point from what the immortal could tell, but there was no detectable life in the corpse. The lord growled in frustration, squeezing his knuckles enough that audible pops could be heard.

"How incredibly disappointing. Take these useless excuses of flesh to my lab. Perhaps I can make something useful out of their parts" he growled in annoyance, turning his back and walking towards where he'd fallen. The slaves began panicking and pleading for mercy immediately. 2 readied their tools to defend themselves as though it could protect them. One went running towards the sarcophagus, screaming in his savage tongue. As Shai'this prepared to leap, an unnatural shriek rang out. The immortal lord turned to see that the corpse had sprung to life and had pinned the screaming slave. A green mist left the slaves mouth as his skin began to dry out and mummify. Miraculously, the mummies own skin began to become healthier again as she stood and set her sights on the other slaves, attacking them with a similar savage hunger. The elder watched in fascination as this once dead creature drained the life out of these slaves. Incredible. With the slaves dead and her body restored, she looked to Lord Ferenczy who motioned for his soldiers to back down. He was curious to see what she did...​


Frey, the Shining City
Present Day...


Frey, the Shining City. A massive, cacophonous creature teeming with life and chaotic energy. A place where you were just as likely to be robbed for the contents of your letters as you would your purse. Tharos loved the chaos, the freedom, even if his nose was currently bloody and a bit crooked. That's what he got for having a bit too many and thinking he could fight every drunk at 'The Loyal Servant'. He couldn't say it wasn't an unproductive night. He'd insisted to his dear sister and their Zitan companion to simply trust that he'd be home by morning and that he could perhaps have some sort of job lined up for them.

He had been largely successful all things considered. If getting his nose broken and a few bruises was the price he paid for the opportunity to get out of the city and potentially study some newly discovered Masari artifacts, it was worth it. Tharos groaned in annoyance, trying to breath but only getting blockage and annoyance. He sighed. He knew how to fix it, just wasn't looking forward to how it would feel. Tharos slipped into the shadows of two nearby buildings and sighed, one part preparing for the pain, the other focusing will.

He envisioned what he wanted to do, focused that will into the image, and with a flash of purple light a telekinetic blast reset his nose with a wet pop. Tharos leaned forward, hands on his thighs as he groaned in pain. Gods that hurt. With a quick blowing of the nose and the removal of a bothersome clot, Tharos made his way for the home he and his sister were renting out. He still had a ways to go and no doubt his sister was going to try and break his nose again for being so late but her attitude would likely change when she heard about the job he'd managed to land them
















_______________________________________________

Physical Description

COMING SOON

Personal History

COMING SOON


_______________________________________________

Physical Description

COMING SOON

Personal History

COMING SOON


_______________________________________________

Physical Description

Standing at 6'7", Tharos stands tall and proud like many fae; especially fae who have risen among the elite. His most noticeable physical traits are his violet colored eyes that almost appear to glow in the dark and his dark hair. At first glance it appears black but when one catches it in the right light, they find it is in fact a very dark purple like his sister. His eyes tend to flash with power when he uses void magic, the same color of his void magic. Tharos also tends to have a smirk on his face like he's somehow better than you.....who's to say he's wrong either?

Personal History

From the moment he could walk, think, and act in any sort of way; his father was trying to change his very nature and mold him into a perfect picture of the Sedad family. Though were it not for his father, he might not have learned to question everything. Tharos rebelled against his father and constantly found himself in trouble. It seemed he couldn't keep himself out of it half the time. However, he had one thing that always made it all better and worth it. The one person that made him at least try to be all that he could be: Thessi, his twin. She stuck by his side, even after his father had him thrown out of their home. Were it not for his sister, chances are he'd have died in the streets of Frey....


© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet