The journal pages detail the events that Adeline described, as well as numerous other smaller events- providing some bedrolls for a pair of hikers under-prepared for the cold, occasional sightings of birds or deer or a lone boar digging for food, and other less magical encounters and sights. "Is that so? When the topic arose, they claimed you owed them a sweater... an attempt to trick me, perhaps, though I would've made one for it if it just asked." She takes the journal back, resuming her writings. "I've only heard whispers of the Barley King before... what makes it so important, that the whole kingdom goes to search for it?"
When she mentions the sweater, Mother Moth seems to remember something. “Oh, yes! I remember him… we had encountered long, long ago… He was imprisoned in Ghulheim, after that. I believe… about the Barley King-… I’m not entirely sure-… that knowledge lies in the Autumn Court and the Barley King’s cult-… but it keeps Augustus in power.”
"He must've found a way to escape, then- I wonder how he did it..." She thinks for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly, before her attention drifts to something else. "Ah, so that's why it's so important. I hope nothing bad happens to it, then- this place is already chaotic enough... on another note, how are things at the Sanctuary faring? It's been a while since I've returned."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Fat face freezes and presses a stick-thin finger to his bulging lips. He self-consciously adjusts his paper crown once more before straightening his back and rising to his full height. The ghoul then walks around the gravestone, the others wait behind him.
He walks around the gravestone, and… it’s right there. Cowering in the shadow of the gravestone, is a tiny lamb with soft white wool, and bright yellow eyes- eyes full of fear. Fat Face can tell this is the Barley King, he simply knows it.he can taste the divinity emanating from the tiny lamb- unimaginable power. It bleats in terror and it’s on the move, faster than any human can run. (70 ft. A round).
The ghoul licks his chops before collapsing onto all fours and skittering after you with movement that don't look natural for a creature with his arrangement of limbs. He barks, "Pursuit! Pursuit! We've found our forbidden fruit!" The two other ghouls come rushing out from behind the tombstone. One gallops on all fours and carries a bone in his jaws like a dog. The other sprints on two feet, his hands clawing at the air in desperation. (They all move 60 ft for this round, but one does have alternate forms of transportation)
The Barley king baas in fear, just a bit ahead of the fastest ghoul. It quickly moves further ahead, and will eventually outrun them if they have no way to catch up to the lamb.
The ghoul running on all fours leaps atop a gravestone before springing into the air. A thin membrane spreads along the sides of his arms and legs granting this Balbal flight. The air fills with scream and ghoul as it streaks over the cemetery fields towards the Barley King. (80 foot flying speed) The ghoul gnawing on the bone disappears behind one gravestone and appears from behind another one, twenty feet in front of the fleeing lamb.
It stops immediately as the ghoul grave-travels in front of it, taking a turn right. The flying ghoul- it is right on the tail of the Lamb- close enough to reach out and grab it.
A long, snake-like tongue shoots out of the ghoul's needle-toothed maw. It wraps about the lambs hooves and slithers up around the body, causing a terrible stinging sensation while restricting its movement. The Balbal crashes on the ground soon after that, wrapping its arms around its prey.
The lamb shrieks, trying to escape the grip of the ghouls- to no avail. They can taste its fear- and its power. Raw, divine magic, greater than that held by Helianth at its full power by far- pulsing through its veins.
the Lamb has been caught.
"Stay your hand, wretch," chuckles Fat Face as he catches up, "This one's not for dinner. This one's far too alive. " He squats down, his bony knees pointing high into the heavens, "And as long as he stays that way, we'll get our dinner soon. Oh what a grand feast it will be!" He takes the Lamb and holds it close to his chest. There is no warmth there. The Balbal knocks on a nearby gravestone and whispers, "We've a pretty pet for the Queen!" Soon all three ghouls have disappeared into the darkness of the ghoul gate and closed the stone behind them.
The journal pages detail the events that Adeline described, as well as numerous other smaller events- providing some bedrolls for a pair of hikers under-prepared for the cold, occasional sightings of birds or deer or a lone boar digging for food, and other less magical encounters and sights. "Is that so? When the topic arose, they claimed you owed them a sweater... an attempt to trick me, perhaps, though I would've made one for it if it just asked." She takes the journal back, resuming her writings. "I've only heard whispers of the Barley King before... what makes it so important, that the whole kingdom goes to search for it?"
When she mentions the sweater, Mother Moth seems to remember something. “Oh, yes! I remember him… we had encountered long, long ago… He was imprisoned in Ghulheim, after that. I believe… about the Barley King-… I’m not entirely sure-… that knowledge lies in the Autumn Court and the Barley King’s cult-… but it keeps Augustus in power.”
"He must've found a way to escape, then- I wonder how he did it..." She thinks for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly, before her attention drifts to something else. "Ah, so that's why it's so important. I hope nothing bad happens to it, then- this place is already chaotic enough... on another note, how are things at the Sanctuary faring? It's been a while since I've returned."
“It’s been quite well! I have had a few visitors, more than we’ve had in other places. The conditions still aren’t suitable for the moths to hatch, however…”
A young ogrillion, resembling a boar-man with orange fur, has recently become talk of the Keep of Painted Leaves. Apparently, he can cure any ailment or curse. He was a poor boy just before this, but is now dressed in finery fit for a prince. He keeps a blindfold over his eyes and doesn't seem to care for etiquette, and randomly seems to argue with the air.
Right now he's training with a great epee, a massive dueling sword. He seems frustrated with the length of the weapon, clearly only used to large stones and daggers.
You notice a brass face peeking out at you from behind a pile of ruined cobblestone. The face notices you noticing it and springs out, twitching with some sort of nervous agitation. "Greetings!" shouts the metal rabbit, "The October Hare at your service. Forgive me for staring but I heard tell of your accomplishments and immediately sought you out."
Fat face freezes and presses a stick-thin finger to his bulging lips. He self-consciously adjusts his paper crown once more before straightening his back and rising to his full height. The ghoul then walks around the gravestone, the others wait behind him.
He walks around the gravestone, and… it’s right there. Cowering in the shadow of the gravestone, is a tiny lamb with soft white wool, and bright yellow eyes- eyes full of fear. Fat Face can tell this is the Barley King, he simply knows it.he can taste the divinity emanating from the tiny lamb- unimaginable power. It bleats in terror and it’s on the move, faster than any human can run. (70 ft. A round).
The ghoul licks his chops before collapsing onto all fours and skittering after you with movement that don't look natural for a creature with his arrangement of limbs. He barks, "Pursuit! Pursuit! We've found our forbidden fruit!" The two other ghouls come rushing out from behind the tombstone. One gallops on all fours and carries a bone in his jaws like a dog. The other sprints on two feet, his hands clawing at the air in desperation. (They all move 60 ft for this round, but one does have alternate forms of transportation)
The Barley king baas in fear, just a bit ahead of the fastest ghoul. It quickly moves further ahead, and will eventually outrun them if they have no way to catch up to the lamb.
The ghoul running on all fours leaps atop a gravestone before springing into the air. A thin membrane spreads along the sides of his arms and legs granting this Balbal flight. The air fills with scream and ghoul as it streaks over the cemetery fields towards the Barley King. (80 foot flying speed) The ghoul gnawing on the bone disappears behind one gravestone and appears from behind another one, twenty feet in front of the fleeing lamb.
It stops immediately as the ghoul grave-travels in front of it, taking a turn right. The flying ghoul- it is right on the tail of the Lamb- close enough to reach out and grab it.
A long, snake-like tongue shoots out of the ghoul's needle-toothed maw. It wraps about the lambs hooves and slithers up around the body, causing a terrible stinging sensation while restricting its movement. The Balbal crashes on the ground soon after that, wrapping its arms around its prey.
The lamb shrieks, trying to escape the grip of the ghouls- to no avail. They can taste its fear- and its power. Raw, divine magic, greater than that held by Helianth at its full power by far- pulsing through its veins.
the Lamb has been caught.
"Stay your hand, wretch," chuckles Fat Face as he catches up, "This one's not for dinner. This one's far too alive. " He squats down, his bony knees pointing high into the heavens, "And as long as he stays that way, we'll get our dinner soon. Oh what a grand feast it will be!" He takes the Lamb and holds it close to his chest. There is no warmth there. The Balbal knocks on a nearby gravestone and whispers, "We've a pretty pet for the Queen!" Soon all three ghouls have disappeared into the darkness of the ghoul gate and closed the stone behind them.
*wonderful end to the interaction!*
*what this means is that Autumn will soon become winter… how quickly that happens is up to you!*
"That's a tall order." He ponders it for a moment, "We are the last and oldest remnants of newness and youth. We are spirits of birth and rebirth and agents of growth and life. We cannot take a step without changing the world. That's what you are. As to who you are, I haven't a clue."
"Okay... that's... a lot to deal with... we are... change? Renewal?" They ask, clasping their gloved hands together and looking up at them, "If... if that's what we are... I'll have to learn what that truly means... thank you..."
"Indeed," He says with a bob of his head, "You're already doing a good job of it. Blooming into birth in the middle of a land of death and dying is quite Springish, I'd say."
They slowly push themselves to their feet, still looking at the ground "Thank you... I am going to try and do my job well, then." They take a deep, though unnecessary breath, looking at the flowers all around them.
"And how will you do that?" He says with his eyes fixed on you.
"I learning what change means... and making the world change, no matter how... making things new."
"No matter how?" He says with an arched eyebrow, "Surely there are catalysts you wouldn't use?"
The journal pages detail the events that Adeline described, as well as numerous other smaller events- providing some bedrolls for a pair of hikers under-prepared for the cold, occasional sightings of birds or deer or a lone boar digging for food, and other less magical encounters and sights. "Is that so? When the topic arose, they claimed you owed them a sweater... an attempt to trick me, perhaps, though I would've made one for it if it just asked." She takes the journal back, resuming her writings. "I've only heard whispers of the Barley King before... what makes it so important, that the whole kingdom goes to search for it?"
When she mentions the sweater, Mother Moth seems to remember something. “Oh, yes! I remember him… we had encountered long, long ago… He was imprisoned in Ghulheim, after that. I believe… about the Barley King-… I’m not entirely sure-… that knowledge lies in the Autumn Court and the Barley King’s cult-… but it keeps Augustus in power.”
"He must've found a way to escape, then- I wonder how he did it..." She thinks for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly, before her attention drifts to something else. "Ah, so that's why it's so important. I hope nothing bad happens to it, then- this place is already chaotic enough... on another note, how are things at the Sanctuary faring? It's been a while since I've returned."
“It’s been quite well! I have had a few visitors, more than we’ve had in other places. The conditions still aren’t suitable for the moths to hatch, however…”
Her smile drops a bit upon hearing that last sentence. "How long do you think it'll be until the conditions are right?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The ghoul licks his chops before collapsing onto all fours and skittering after you with movement that don't look natural for a creature with his arrangement of limbs. He barks, "Pursuit! Pursuit! We've found our forbidden fruit!" The two other ghouls come rushing out from behind the tombstone. One gallops on all fours and carries a bone in his jaws like a dog. The other sprints on two feet, his hands clawing at the air in desperation. (They all move 60 ft for this round, but one does have alternate forms of transportation)
The Barley king baas in fear, just a bit ahead of the fastest ghoul. It quickly moves further ahead, and will eventually outrun them if they have no way to catch up to the lamb.
The ghoul running on all fours leaps atop a gravestone before springing into the air. A thin membrane spreads along the sides of his arms and legs granting this Balbal flight. The air fills with scream and ghoul as it streaks over the cemetery fields towards the Barley King. (80 foot flying speed) The ghoul gnawing on the bone disappears behind one gravestone and appears from behind another one, twenty feet in front of the fleeing lamb.
It stops immediately as the ghoul grave-travels in front of it, taking a turn right. The flying ghoul- it is right on the tail of the Lamb- close enough to reach out and grab it.
A long, snake-like tongue shoots out of the ghoul's needle-toothed maw. It wraps about the lambs hooves and slithers up around the body, causing a terrible stinging sensation while restricting its movement. The Balbal crashes on the ground soon after that, wrapping its arms around its prey.
The lamb shrieks, trying to escape the grip of the ghouls- to no avail. They can taste its fear- and its power. Raw, divine magic, greater than that held by Helianth at its full power by far- pulsing through its veins.
the Lamb has been caught.
"Stay your hand, wretch," chuckles Fat Face as he catches up, "This one's not for dinner. This one's far too alive. " He squats down, his bony knees pointing high into the heavens, "And as long as he stays that way, we'll get our dinner soon. Oh what a grand feast it will be!" He takes the Lamb and holds it close to his chest. There is no warmth there. The Balbal knocks on a nearby gravestone and whispers, "We've a pretty pet for the Queen!" Soon all three ghouls have disappeared into the darkness of the ghoul gate and closed the stone behind them.
*wonderful end to the interaction!*
*what this means is that Autumn will soon become winter… how quickly that happens is up to you!*
*Thanks, that was fun!*
*Things will definitely start to change soon, especially because the Lamb has left the Autumn Country and is now in Ghulheim.*
A young ogrillion, resembling a boar-man with orange fur, has recently become talk of the Keep of Painted Leaves. Apparently, he can cure any ailment or curse. He was a poor boy just before this, but is now dressed in finery fit for a prince. He keeps a blindfold over his eyes and doesn't seem to care for etiquette, and randomly seems to argue with the air.
Right now he's training with a great epee, a massive dueling sword. He seems frustrated with the length of the weapon, clearly only used to large stones and daggers.
You notice a brass face peeking out at you from behind a pile of ruined cobblestone. The face notices you noticing it and springs out, twitching with some sort of nervous agitation. "Greetings!" shouts the metal rabbit, "The October Hare at your service. Forgive me for staring but I heard tell of your accomplishments and immediately sought you out."
He stabs his massive sword into the ground, gratitude on his face. He smiles at the October Hare. "I'm glad you consider them accomplishments." He chuckles, then stops abruptly, looking to the side. "No, shut up. I'm talking right now. You're making me look crazy."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The journal pages detail the events that Adeline described, as well as numerous other smaller events- providing some bedrolls for a pair of hikers under-prepared for the cold, occasional sightings of birds or deer or a lone boar digging for food, and other less magical encounters and sights. "Is that so? When the topic arose, they claimed you owed them a sweater... an attempt to trick me, perhaps, though I would've made one for it if it just asked." She takes the journal back, resuming her writings. "I've only heard whispers of the Barley King before... what makes it so important, that the whole kingdom goes to search for it?"
When she mentions the sweater, Mother Moth seems to remember something. “Oh, yes! I remember him… we had encountered long, long ago… He was imprisoned in Ghulheim, after that. I believe… about the Barley King-… I’m not entirely sure-… that knowledge lies in the Autumn Court and the Barley King’s cult-… but it keeps Augustus in power.”
"He must've found a way to escape, then- I wonder how he did it..." She thinks for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly, before her attention drifts to something else. "Ah, so that's why it's so important. I hope nothing bad happens to it, then- this place is already chaotic enough... on another note, how are things at the Sanctuary faring? It's been a while since I've returned."
“It’s been quite well! I have had a few visitors, more than we’ve had in other places. The conditions still aren’t suitable for the moths to hatch, however…”
Her smile drops a bit upon hearing that last sentence. "How long do you think it'll be until the conditions are right?"
“Well, they’d thrive the best in a spring environment, but we clearly aren’t getting that… a while, at least. We’ll need to wait for warmer days. For Autumn, at least. That should be enough.”
The ghoul licks his chops before collapsing onto all fours and skittering after you with movement that don't look natural for a creature with his arrangement of limbs. He barks, "Pursuit! Pursuit! We've found our forbidden fruit!" The two other ghouls come rushing out from behind the tombstone. One gallops on all fours and carries a bone in his jaws like a dog. The other sprints on two feet, his hands clawing at the air in desperation. (They all move 60 ft for this round, but one does have alternate forms of transportation)
The Barley king baas in fear, just a bit ahead of the fastest ghoul. It quickly moves further ahead, and will eventually outrun them if they have no way to catch up to the lamb.
The ghoul running on all fours leaps atop a gravestone before springing into the air. A thin membrane spreads along the sides of his arms and legs granting this Balbal flight. The air fills with scream and ghoul as it streaks over the cemetery fields towards the Barley King. (80 foot flying speed) The ghoul gnawing on the bone disappears behind one gravestone and appears from behind another one, twenty feet in front of the fleeing lamb.
It stops immediately as the ghoul grave-travels in front of it, taking a turn right. The flying ghoul- it is right on the tail of the Lamb- close enough to reach out and grab it.
A long, snake-like tongue shoots out of the ghoul's needle-toothed maw. It wraps about the lambs hooves and slithers up around the body, causing a terrible stinging sensation while restricting its movement. The Balbal crashes on the ground soon after that, wrapping its arms around its prey.
The lamb shrieks, trying to escape the grip of the ghouls- to no avail. They can taste its fear- and its power. Raw, divine magic, greater than that held by Helianth at its full power by far- pulsing through its veins.
the Lamb has been caught.
"Stay your hand, wretch," chuckles Fat Face as he catches up, "This one's not for dinner. This one's far too alive. " He squats down, his bony knees pointing high into the heavens, "And as long as he stays that way, we'll get our dinner soon. Oh what a grand feast it will be!" He takes the Lamb and holds it close to his chest. There is no warmth there. The Balbal knocks on a nearby gravestone and whispers, "We've a pretty pet for the Queen!" Soon all three ghouls have disappeared into the darkness of the ghoul gate and closed the stone behind them.
*wonderful end to the interaction!*
*what this means is that Autumn will soon become winter… how quickly that happens is up to you!*
*Thanks, that was fun!*
*Things will definitely start to change soon, especially because the Lamb has left the Autumn Country and is now in Ghulheim.*
*prepare for the chaos, everyone… winter is nearly upon us!*
*hey dark how do the courts work are the people in said courts based off of holidays and events like for example there is a character called 4th of july?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
The journal pages detail the events that Adeline described, as well as numerous other smaller events- providing some bedrolls for a pair of hikers under-prepared for the cold, occasional sightings of birds or deer or a lone boar digging for food, and other less magical encounters and sights. "Is that so? When the topic arose, they claimed you owed them a sweater... an attempt to trick me, perhaps, though I would've made one for it if it just asked." She takes the journal back, resuming her writings. "I've only heard whispers of the Barley King before... what makes it so important, that the whole kingdom goes to search for it?"
When she mentions the sweater, Mother Moth seems to remember something. “Oh, yes! I remember him… we had encountered long, long ago… He was imprisoned in Ghulheim, after that. I believe… about the Barley King-… I’m not entirely sure-… that knowledge lies in the Autumn Court and the Barley King’s cult-… but it keeps Augustus in power.”
"He must've found a way to escape, then- I wonder how he did it..." She thinks for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly, before her attention drifts to something else. "Ah, so that's why it's so important. I hope nothing bad happens to it, then- this place is already chaotic enough... on another note, how are things at the Sanctuary faring? It's been a while since I've returned."
“It’s been quite well! I have had a few visitors, more than we’ve had in other places. The conditions still aren’t suitable for the moths to hatch, however…”
Her smile drops a bit upon hearing that last sentence. "How long do you think it'll be until the conditions are right?"
“Well, they’d thrive the best in a spring environment, but we clearly aren’t getting that… a while, at least. We’ll need to wait for warmer days. For Autumn, at least. That should be enough.”
"Yes, that should be enough." She agrees, hopeful that those warmer days will come soon. "At the very least, it seems the spiders are thriving here."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Well right now there is only one established. A member of the court would have more authority and power than anyone else in that region (the Autumn Country) and they probably have some domain or duty that they oversee. For example, Julius is the Harvest Prince and is in charge of the harvest produce and the Librarian is in charge of the Library which is a focal point of knowledge, secrets, and magic. An emissary from another court would be respected and their authority would be recognized, but they would be guests and are under the King's hospitality.*
*There are also other 'members' of the court that aren't exactly noble. The October Hare might be considered to be a part of the Autumn Court, but he is considered more of a respected servant than a power wielding courtier. He has several important duties that he sees too, namely the upkeep of every clock in the land, but obviously that duty isn't on the same level as someone who guides the dead to the afterlife or guards a sacred tomb.*
"He must've found a way to escape, then- I wonder how he did it..." She thinks for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly, before her attention drifts to something else. "Ah, so that's why it's so important. I hope nothing bad happens to it, then- this place is already chaotic enough... on another note, how are things at the Sanctuary faring? It's been a while since I've returned."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Stay your hand, wretch," chuckles Fat Face as he catches up, "This one's not for dinner. This one's far too alive. " He squats down, his bony knees pointing high into the heavens, "And as long as he stays that way, we'll get our dinner soon. Oh what a grand feast it will be!" He takes the Lamb and holds it close to his chest. There is no warmth there. The Balbal knocks on a nearby gravestone and whispers, "We've a pretty pet for the Queen!" Soon all three ghouls have disappeared into the darkness of the ghoul gate and closed the stone behind them.
“It’s been quite well! I have had a few visitors, more than we’ve had in other places. The conditions still aren’t suitable for the moths to hatch, however…”
You notice a brass face peeking out at you from behind a pile of ruined cobblestone. The face notices you noticing it and springs out, twitching with some sort of nervous agitation. "Greetings!" shouts the metal rabbit, "The October Hare at your service. Forgive me for staring but I heard tell of your accomplishments and immediately sought you out."
*wonderful end to the interaction!*
*what this means is that Autumn will soon become winter… how quickly that happens is up to you!*
"No matter how?" He says with an arched eyebrow, "Surely there are catalysts you wouldn't use?"
*question how do the courts work :3*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
Her smile drops a bit upon hearing that last sentence. "How long do you think it'll be until the conditions are right?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Thanks, that was fun!*
*Things will definitely start to change soon, especially because the Lamb has left the Autumn Country and is now in Ghulheim.*
He stabs his massive sword into the ground, gratitude on his face. He smiles at the October Hare. "I'm glad you consider them accomplishments." He chuckles, then stops abruptly, looking to the side. "No, shut up. I'm talking right now. You're making me look crazy."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Well, they’d thrive the best in a spring environment, but we clearly aren’t getting that… a while, at least. We’ll need to wait for warmer days. For Autumn, at least. That should be enough.”
They don't respond to the question, beginning to walk, looking for something as they begin wandering off.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*prepare for the chaos, everyone… winter is nearly upon us!*
*hey dark how do the courts work are the people in said courts based off of holidays and events like for example there is a character called 4th of july?*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*Hey, Arch and Yvonne, are you interested in RP as well?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Yes, that should be enough." She agrees, hopeful that those warmer days will come soon. "At the very least, it seems the spiders are thriving here."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*I'd love to rp! Any specific character(s) you'd like?*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*sure! Who do you want?*
*Well right now there is only one established. A member of the court would have more authority and power than anyone else in that region (the Autumn Country) and they probably have some domain or duty that they oversee. For example, Julius is the Harvest Prince and is in charge of the harvest produce and the Librarian is in charge of the Library which is a focal point of knowledge, secrets, and magic. An emissary from another court would be respected and their authority would be recognized, but they would be guests and are under the King's hospitality.*
*There are also other 'members' of the court that aren't exactly noble. The October Hare might be considered to be a part of the Autumn Court, but he is considered more of a respected servant than a power wielding courtier. He has several important duties that he sees too, namely the upkeep of every clock in the land, but obviously that duty isn't on the same level as someone who guides the dead to the afterlife or guards a sacred tomb.*
*Bring whoever you'd like! I'm hoping to play the Medium and CRAVEBOIL*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.