Quote from Former_Queen_Yvonne >>

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

 *Hmmm... I'll need to think of an interesting way to develop this further other than the inevitable "Helianth gets out and kills Atticus," since that's probably going to be happening regardless.*

*See, the Uzumaki Scrapple is his biggest source of power, giving him the energy to keep throwing out those crazy spells. It also holds all his demons and summons and such, and is literally made of them. But he's a curse expert, a master of controlling maladictive forces. So if Helianth were to consume everything in there, it would be free, but it would also be subject to his control due to it being filled with the aforementioned forces. It would be a clash of wills between the two, and I'm not sure who would come out on top.*

*What do you think?*

*I think that once it eats its way through the Scrapple, there'd be a real chance that it could be at least temporarily controlled by Atticus... but the key word there is temporarily. Because as it kills things, it gets stronger- assuming it continues to find fresh prey of supernatural origin, it would eventually grow strong enough to break free... but it has its hunger back. It would never be satisfied- I don't think it ever has been, or even is capable of such a thing...*

*Whatever happens, Atticus has just added fuel to its fire- and you know what happens when a black hole eats? It gets bigger.*

 *I am in immense danger, and I expected this outcome from the moment I decided not to kill Helianth.*

*I think if I want to keep playing Atticus, I'm going to need to give him a power-up of his own.*

*And I have no idea how to do that. (Puts on sunglasses)*

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…

 *here*

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…

 *here*

 *Would you like to RP with me? Or would you prefer someone else?*

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…

 *here*

 *Would you like to RP with me? Or would you prefer someone else?*

 *just something fantasy-y and not crazy enough to handle*

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

Quote from Former_Queen_Yvonne >>

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

 *Hmmm... I'll need to think of an interesting way to develop this further other than the inevitable "Helianth gets out and kills Atticus," since that's probably going to be happening regardless.*

*See, the Uzumaki Scrapple is his biggest source of power, giving him the energy to keep throwing out those crazy spells. It also holds all his demons and summons and such, and is literally made of them. But he's a curse expert, a master of controlling maladictive forces. So if Helianth were to consume everything in there, it would be free, but it would also be subject to his control due to it being filled with the aforementioned forces. It would be a clash of wills between the two, and I'm not sure who would come out on top.*

*What do you think?*

*I think that once it eats its way through the Scrapple, there'd be a real chance that it could be at least temporarily controlled by Atticus... but the key word there is temporarily. Because as it kills things, it gets stronger- assuming it continues to find fresh prey of supernatural origin, it would eventually grow strong enough to break free... but it has its hunger back. It would never be satisfied- I don't think it ever has been, or even is capable of such a thing...*

*Whatever happens, Atticus has just added fuel to its fire- and you know what happens when a black hole eats? It gets bigger.*

 *I am in immense danger, and I expected this outcome from the moment I decided not to kill Helianth.*

*I think if I want to keep playing Atticus, I'm going to need to give him a power-up of his own.*

*And I have no idea how to do that. (Puts on sunglasses)*

*I feel like it'd be fun to see what would happen if Felix were to come back to the Autumn Country. Helianth has been absent from Lord's Point for a long time... maybe he went back because he went looking for Helianth, or maybe some other reason.*

*But by the time he figures out what happened to his love... would it even be itself anymore?*

Quote from Former_Queen_Yvonne >>

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

 *I am in immense danger, and I expected this outcome from the moment I decided not to kill Helianth.*

*I think if I want to keep playing Atticus, I'm going to need to give him a power-up of his own.*

*And I have no idea how to do that. (Puts on sunglasses)*

*I feel like it'd be fun to see what would happen if Felix were to come back to the Autumn Country. Helianth has been absent from Lord's Point for a long time... maybe he went back because he went looking for Helianth, or maybe some other reason.*

*But by the time he figures out what happened to his love... would it even be itself anymore?*

 *That could be very interesting.*

*Maybe tomorrow, or more likely the day after that because Easter and all that. Plus, Helianth needs some time to power up before its big escape.*

*Felix might get killed himself, too. After all, he's a hearth cleric.*

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Quote from Fry_Doodles >>

Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…

 *here*

 *Would you like to RP with me? Or would you prefer someone else?*

 *just something fantasy-y and not crazy enough to handle*

 *so yes, i would like to rp with you*

*Just finished reading through that epic boss fight. Bravo y'all.*

Helianth's whispers sink deep into the soil, trickling down and down and down and down. All the way to the Ghoul Queen's ears.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

A deafening, hollow knocking sound explodes, uninvited, across the field. Atticus notices a particular tombstone not far from the battle ground. It shifts and swings to the side like a door creaking open. A shriveled little ghoul with a long mustache that drapes over his lips like curtains emerges from the hole. He raises a crooked finger and points it at Atticus and counts, "One." He then turns and sticks his hand and head back into the Ghoul Gate and you hear his voice counting again, "One, two, three... ten... twenty... fifty... one hundred... two hundred... three hundred..." Countless yellow and red eyes appear in the shadows of the unnatural door. 

And then, as if some unholy floodgates were opened, a boiling flood of the horrendous creatures bursts out and into the Autumn Country. They fill the air with their unearthly screams, chattering, and laughter and scatter in all different directions. The majority of the horde stampede into the forest, tearing across the ground with such force that the trees tremble and shake and shed what remains of their autumn foliage. Off in the distance, you notice a similar outpouring spilling from other grave stones and sepulchers. The forest is filled with hungry bellies and gnashing teeth all searching. for that which they have been forbade to dine. 

"Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.” Philippians 3:19

*Also, I feel bad for asking this, but who is Atticus? Have I seen him before? He's really cool!*

Quote from The_Summoning_Dark >>

*Also, I feel bad for asking this, but who is Atticus? Have I seen him before? He's really cool!*

 *His presence was originally limited to the Lord's Rest Inn, but he's an archmage who survives because his soul can be brought back at any point, since he's barred from literally any afterlife. He's basically in limbo (not the plane) until he's brought back in whatever incarnation some misguided cultist invented for him.*

*He's pretty complex, and to learn more about him you'll have to play with him.*

Quote from The_Summoning_Dark >>

*Just finished reading through that epic boss fight. Bravo y'all.*

Helianth's whispers sink deep into the soil, trickling down and down and down and down. All the way to the Ghoul Queen's ears.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

A deafening, hollow knocking sound explodes, uninvited, across the field. Atticus notices a particular tombstone not far from the battle ground. It shifts and swings to the side like a door creaking open. A shriveled little ghoul with a long mustache that drapes over his lips like curtains emerges from the hole. He raises a crooked finger and points it at Atticus and counts, "One." He then turns and sticks his hand and head back into the Ghoul Gate and you hear his voice counting again, "One, two, three... ten... twenty... fifty... one hundred... two hundred... three hundred..." Countless yellow and red eyes appear in the shadows of the unnatural door. 

And then, as if some unholy floodgates were opened, a boiling flood of the horrendous creatures bursts out and into the Autumn Country. They fill the air with their unearthly screams, chattering, and laughter and scatter in all different directions. The majority of the horde stampede into the forest, tearing across the ground with such force that the trees tremble and shake and shed what remains of their autumn foliage. Off in the distance, you notice a similar outpouring spilling from other grave stones and sepulchers. The forest is filled with hungry bellies and gnashing teeth all searching. for that which they have been forbade to dine. 

"Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.” Philippians 3:19

 Atticus, utterly worn out by the fight with Helianth, Dimension Doors away using 80% of his remaining power. He limps to a place where he can see this all happen from afar. "Dammit." He sighs.

*Good morning, my dear fellow story-weavers!*

Since the day that terrible beast was brought into the prison, the carnage and panic has only ever increased. The Scourge of the Stars, unfettered from its crooked vessel, has torn its way through the Scrabble like a roiling, frenzying wildfire. It started with picking off easier prey- the weakest of the demons, the most frail of the specters, the curses least able to flee. Some were able to retreat, or go down swinging and actually wound the god-eater, but it would never be enough- all of them were consumed in its flaming jaws, utterly annihilated save for their power, which is added to the Elder Evil's frenzy like gasoline to an open flame.

It has already killed over two-hundred of the other prisoners out of the thousands here, and eventually, none will be safe. Atticus has been able to watch this all, seeing the golden wildfire slither across the demiplane and engulf any it can trap. It has grown stronger from each life claimed- that much he can tell- but its hunger hasn't abated in the slightest.

And it feels nothing. It hasn't uttered a single word, formed a single thought, since its hunger returned to it. Reduced to an ever-hungry beast- a frighteningly intelligent beast, but a beast nonetheless. It will never be satisfied. It was never capable of such a thing.

The Barley king never stopped running. As soon as the lantern hounds had appeared, to when the Crooked Scourge of the Stars had been defeated- for now- it hasn’t stopped. It is fast, faster than any human and faster than any ghoul- but there are oh, so many ghouls. Hunting for it. Tracking it down. Watching it.

and this commotion, this development in the hunt for the Barley King- it alerts the cultists soon enough. Through the shade of the trees, the open groves and wheat fields, from the dark of dismal caves, they emerge in dozens throughout the area- masked humanoids with silver daggers and  crossbows loaded with cold iron bolts. Ghouls that approach them with violent intent are shot at, stabbed, or given a taste of divine power in the form of turn undead. There are many more ghouls than there are cultists, however, so they stay in large numbers and are very careful. Following after them are horse size Lantern Hounds and hawks with bronze feathers, aiding them in their search.

In the middle of the scorched, actively-burning part of the forest where that fateful duel concluded, lies what remains of the body of the crooked god-eater. Part of its form has crumbled to ash and molten slag, including two of its arms and one of its wretched wings. The rings composing its 'flower' heads have fallen to the ground, two of them split in one section, all of them without their spheres of annihilation. There are still a few flickering embers that cling to the corpse.

It doesn't take long at all for the ghouls to find it- after all, who wouldn't notice the smoldering clearing in the middle of the woods?

The wind blows and the charred stalks of Helianth's corpse sway against each other with a raspy hiss. The fallen monstrosity begins to jump and shake and thrash about as the ground beneath the remains of the gluttonous sun gulper churns. Long thin arms burst from the ground and their claws latch onto the star eater's corpse, pulling it beneath the earth. All that's left is a pile of loose soil and a few discarded sunflower seeds.

Sun flower seeds that are plucked from the ground by a flitting sparrow which carries them back to the Keep of Painted Leaves. 

Queen Amina stands in Ghulheim, surrounded by her mad children. They chatter and whisper eagerly as they watch their queen work. She kneels down before her fallen ally and tenderly lifts each sunflower head in her hands. She plants a kiss between the petals of each bloom before turning and nodding to a pair of ghouls who wait nearby.

They leap down into a recently excavated grave, their grubby fingers dig into the soil like eager worms. Soon, the last bits of cold earth are wiped away from the remains of some prehistoric titan. One of the old giants. Ancient kings who blurred the line between god and man. Who stalked the early kingdoms of humanity and ruled the people with terror and might. They who fed on the blood and children of their servants. They whose offspring were shapeshifters and ogre-witches. They who spoke in the tongue of blasphemes. One of those old giants. One of the dead ones. Its body has sat lifeless for so long that only its massive skull and shattered rib cage remain. 

The ghouls drag Helianth's corpse into the giant's unearthed graved. The dry leaves and vines crash down atop the giant's ancient remains. Amina gives a silent order and the ghouls begin throwing black dirt over the two dead titans until the whole grave is filled. Amina slowly walks until she is standing atop the burial mound. She then sinks to her knees and presses her palms into the soil, whispering in a long forgotten tongue, "Friend, you vowed to fight alongside me and mine until the Autumn King is overthrown. Death does not release you from this oath. Take the strength of this old titan and feel your hunger once more. Fill yourself with emptiness, gather up your hate, and dare the world to sate your thirst." 

Beneath the soil, something stirs. 

*Oh dear*

*It seems Atticus just made things worse on every conceivable level at the cost of most of his power*

Quote from The_Summoning_Dark >>

The wind blows and the charred stalks of Helianth's corpse sway against each other with a raspy hiss. The fallen monstrosity begins to jump and shake and thrash about as the ground beneath the remains of the gluttonous sun gulper churns. Long thin arms burst from the ground and their claws latch onto the star eater's corpse, pulling it beneath the earth. All that's left is a pile of loose soil and a few discarded sunflower seeds.

Sun flower seeds that are plucked from the ground by a flitting sparrow which carries them back to the Keep of Painted Leaves. 

Queen Amina stands in Ghulheim, surrounded by her mad children. They chatter and whisper eagerly as they watch their queen work. She kneels down before her fallen ally and tenderly lifts each sunflower head in her hands. She plants a kiss between the petals of each bloom before turning and nodding to a pair of ghouls who wait nearby.

They leap down into a recently excavated grave, their grubby fingers dig into the soil like eager worms. Soon, the last bits of cold earth are wiped away from the remains of some prehistoric titan. One of the old giants. Ancient kings who blurred the line between god and man. Who stalked the early kingdoms of humanity and ruled the people with terror and might. They who fed on the blood and children of their servants. They whose offspring were shapeshifters and ogre-witches. They who spoke in the tongue of blasphemes. One of those old giants. One of the dead ones. Its body has sat lifeless for so long that only its massive skull and shattered rib cage remain. 

The ghouls drag Helianth's corpse into the giant's unearthed graved. The dry leaves and vines crash down atop the giant's ancient remains. Amina gives a silent order and the ghouls begin throwing black dirt over the two dead titans until the whole grave is filled. Amina slowly walks until she is standing atop the burial mound. She then sinks to her knees and presses her palms into the soil, whispering in a long forgotten tongue, "Friend, you vowed to fight alongside me and mine until the Autumn King is overthrown. Death does not release you from this oath. Take the strength of this old titan and feel your hunger once more. Fill yourself with emptiness, gather up your hate, and dare the world to sate your thirst." 

Beneath the soil, something stirs. 

Something under the soil the freshly-filled grave stirs. The black earth quivers as it writhes beneath the surface. And then, for a few minutes... all is silent.

The undead slowly pulls itself up from the soil, filled with renewed purpose. Renewed hunger. Several decaying blooms of woven flesh and metal sprout forth from the titan's yellowed skull, a crooked stem snaking its way through the giant bones down towards the ribcage, inside of which a tangled briar of writhing roots lies. One crooked wing haphazardly extends from the giant's back, having slotted through the gaps in its ribs. It carries no light in its core, its flames stolen away with the rest of its split soul. The 'flowers' reaching out from its eye sockets and open jaws and the underside of its skull each ignite with a far dimmer light than they once carried, in dying, decaying shades of yellow and orange and red. The lights seethe with a quiet hatred, and a quiet hunger- not quite like the ceaseless starvation it once had, but still rather similar- compounded with another undying compulsion to feed.

The crooked ghoul is silent for a while, looking down towards Amina- its savior and friend. Then, it bows deeply before her, the giant lowering its thorn-riddled skull with utmost respect.

"...I cannot thank you enough." The giant rasps in a familiar voice- though it doesn't carry the previous clarity it had. It sounds hoarse and faint, like an animal struggling to breathe. "I shall fulfill my oath... my queen..."

*the plot thickens!*

*I wonder if the crooked flower shall ever fully return to its ‘original,’ state…*

Quote from Former_Queen_Yvonne >>

Quote from The_Summoning_Dark >>

The wind blows and the charred stalks of Helianth's corpse sway against each other with a raspy hiss. The fallen monstrosity begins to jump and shake and thrash about as the ground beneath the remains of the gluttonous sun gulper churns. Long thin arms burst from the ground and their claws latch onto the star eater's corpse, pulling it beneath the earth. All that's left is a pile of loose soil and a few discarded sunflower seeds.

Sun flower seeds that are plucked from the ground by a flitting sparrow which carries them back to the Keep of Painted Leaves. 

Queen Amina stands in Ghulheim, surrounded by her mad children. They chatter and whisper eagerly as they watch their queen work. She kneels down before her fallen ally and tenderly lifts each sunflower head in her hands. She plants a kiss between the petals of each bloom before turning and nodding to a pair of ghouls who wait nearby.

They leap down into a recently excavated grave, their grubby fingers dig into the soil like eager worms. Soon, the last bits of cold earth are wiped away from the remains of some prehistoric titan. One of the old giants. Ancient kings who blurred the line between god and man. Who stalked the early kingdoms of humanity and ruled the people with terror and might. They who fed on the blood and children of their servants. They whose offspring were shapeshifters and ogre-witches. They who spoke in the tongue of blasphemes. One of those old giants. One of the dead ones. Its body has sat lifeless for so long that only its massive skull and shattered rib cage remain. 

The ghouls drag Helianth's corpse into the giant's unearthed graved. The dry leaves and vines crash down atop the giant's ancient remains. Amina gives a silent order and the ghouls begin throwing black dirt over the two dead titans until the whole grave is filled. Amina slowly walks until she is standing atop the burial mound. She then sinks to her knees and presses her palms into the soil, whispering in a long forgotten tongue, "Friend, you vowed to fight alongside me and mine until the Autumn King is overthrown. Death does not release you from this oath. Take the strength of this old titan and feel your hunger once more. Fill yourself with emptiness, gather up your hate, and dare the world to sate your thirst." 

Beneath the soil, something stirs. 

Something under the soil the freshly-filled grave stirs. The black earth quivers as it writhes beneath the surface. And then, for a few minutes... all is silent.

The undead slowly pulls itself up from the soil, filled with renewed purpose. Renewed hunger. Several decaying blooms of woven flesh and metal sprout forth from the titan's yellowed skull, a crooked stem snaking its way through the giant bones down towards the ribcage, inside of which a tangled briar of writhing roots lies. One crooked wing haphazardly extends from the giant's back, having slotted through the gaps in its ribs. It carries no light in its core, its flames stolen away with the rest of its split soul. The 'flowers' reaching out from its eye sockets and open jaws and the underside of its skull each ignite with a far dimmer light than they once carried, in dying, decaying shades of yellow and orange and red. The lights seethe with a quiet hatred, and a quiet hunger- not quite like the ceaseless starvation it once had, but still rather similar- compounded with another undying compulsion to feed.

The crooked ghoul is silent for a while, looking down towards Amina- its savior and friend. Then, it bows deeply before her, the giant lowering its thorn-riddled skull with utmost respect.

"...I cannot thank you enough." The giant rasps in a familiar voice- though it doesn't carry the previous clarity it had. It sounds hoarse and faint, like an animal struggling to breathe. "I shall fulfill my oath... my queen..."

 Amina stares up at the risen horror her ancient eyes unblinking, "You have joined the number of the grave born. Born once more through death. Tell me, what is your name?"

Quote from TheFriendlyArchfey >>

*the plot thickens!*

*I wonder if the crooked flower shall ever fully return to its ‘original,’ state…*

 *Indeed! There may be the faintest of chances that Helianth returns to the state in which it arrived here... though, that won't be for a while, at least.*