"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."
Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket.
The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless.
Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read.
"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."
Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket.
The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless.
Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read.
*this is amazing*
Thirteen hears the sound of the humming and begins walking in that direction.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."
Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket.
The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless.
Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read.
*this is amazing*
Thirteen hears the sound of the humming and begins walking in that direction.
As Thirteen slowly walks over, the figure perks up and turns their head, looking over. The figure has an otherworldly presence, appearing to be an elf with a warm, sun-kissed complexion and short, snow-white hair that contrasts beautifully against their skin. Intricate tattoos adorn the elf's skin, weaving together in mesmerizing patterns, each telling a story of ancient significance. A pair of crystalline horns, reminiscent of finely crafted ice, gracefully sprout from the elf's forehead and curve elegantly behind their head. As the elf shifts, a large, sapphire-blue draconic tail flicks about, betraying a sense of curiosity and intrigue at the new presence. The elf's bright, cerulean eyes sparkle with a friendly smile, radiating warmth and kindness as they lock gazes with Thirteen.
"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."
Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket.
The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless.
Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read.
*this is amazing*
Thirteen hears the sound of the humming and begins walking in that direction.
As Thirteen slowly walks over, the figure perks up and turns their head, looking over. The figure has an otherworldly presence, appearing to be an elf with a warm, sun-kissed complexion and short, snow-white hair that contrasts beautifully against their skin. Intricate tattoos adorn the elf's skin, weaving together in mesmerizing patterns, each telling a story of ancient significance. A pair of crystalline horns, reminiscent of finely crafted ice, gracefully sprout from the elf's forehead and curve elegantly behind their head. As the elf shifts, a large, sapphire-blue draconic tail flicks about, betraying a sense of curiosity and intrigue at the new presence. The elf's bright, cerulean eyes sparkle with a friendly smile, radiating warmth and kindness as they lock gazes with Thirteen.
Thirteen isn’t necessarily surprised, but a bit confused. “…Hello.” He says in Draconic.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
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*reloads*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*[pokes the implosion]*
*preloads*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*uploads*
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
*outloads*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
(deloads)
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
*downloads*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
(you just downloaded malware)
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
*[bites you]*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*[suplex]*
(hi)
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
*I'm bored :/*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*mayhaps I can entain you?*
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
*Course, and please :)*
*I just finished 'The Sapphire Sentinel' otherwise known as Craius*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*salutations*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Believe me when I say, there are scarier things than monsters and men."
Deep into the woods, the lush green foliage envelops all, creating a sense of calm and serenity. The rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds provide a droning but calm atmosphere. A faint humming sound that seems to be coming from within the thicket.
The person in question, their face concealed by the hood of the tan cloak, sits cross-legged on the ground, their gaze fixed on the cauldron in front of them. The cauldron, supported by a tripod over a crackling fire, bubbles and steams, emanating an aromatic aroma that smells like flowers. The person's hands, covered by the sleeves of the cloak, rest on their lap, motionless.
Around them, on the ground, are various small items. The first are beautiful blue crystals, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. They seem to pulsate with a strange energy. The second are potion bottles, some empty while others filled with strange concoctions of various colors and consistencies. The labels on the bottles are written in a language that is unknown to most. Finally, there is a large scroll with ancient writing on it, spread out on the ground beside the person. The writing appears to be a recipe for some sort of powerful potion or spell, written in a language that only a few people in the world can read.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*this is amazing*
Thirteen hears the sound of the humming and begins walking in that direction.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
As Thirteen slowly walks over, the figure perks up and turns their head, looking over. The figure has an otherworldly presence, appearing to be an elf with a warm, sun-kissed complexion and short, snow-white hair that contrasts beautifully against their skin. Intricate tattoos adorn the elf's skin, weaving together in mesmerizing patterns, each telling a story of ancient significance. A pair of crystalline horns, reminiscent of finely crafted ice, gracefully sprout from the elf's forehead and curve elegantly behind their head. As the elf shifts, a large, sapphire-blue draconic tail flicks about, betraying a sense of curiosity and intrigue at the new presence. The elf's bright, cerulean eyes sparkle with a friendly smile, radiating warmth and kindness as they lock gazes with Thirteen.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Thirteen isn’t necessarily surprised, but a bit confused. “…Hello.” He says in Draconic.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.