If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
Goto stands up and walks past her, only to circle back around to her side, holding a white, warm dress in his arms. "Why do you say that?" He mutters, loud enough to be clearly heard and understood, but quiet enough to still sound a bit like mumbling. "Anyway, I have something for you." He holds up the beautiful article. It has ornate, bone-shaped patterns and slits for wings. It's sized for someone about her height but of slightly greater weight.
*Gooooooooood morning, Baal! How art thou today?*
The not-quite-fey is visibly surprised, her silver eyes regarding the garment with equal awe and confusion. "This... this is for me?..." She almost doesn't believe her ears for a moment, a smile growing on her face, before she very carefully takes the offered cozy dress from the witch's hands. "It's lovely! Thank you so much! Such immaculate detail!" She analyzes the dress' patterns, taking note of how each thread forms the skeletal design, before she pauses. "These slits on the back... they're for wings, yes?" There's clear confusion in her voice- not at their function, though. She understands that part rather well.
*I'm doing fine. I've just finished up with a DnD session, and I'm going to be playing another one with Theren as the DM in about 2 hours. How about you?*
"Correct." He says simply. "I was just thinking ahead. The material is strong, and softer than silk. It used to be monopolized for the creation of multipurpose articles with a name lost to history. The plants that produced the original fibers went extinct, so this was made with a revived version, widely believed to be of inferior quality. But it's 100% real, according to the tailor." They hold out a tiny card with specifics on the creation and the shop that made the dress. It's not on this plane.
*I'm doing alright as well. Hope the session with Theren goes wonderfully!*
"Ah, yes... thinking... ahead..." She's silent for a while, listening to Goto's explanation with clear interest and reading the card's writing when he hands it to her. She sets the dress nearby, running her hand across its unbelievably soft fabric for a moment. "...I have a question. Did you already know me before now? This is the first time we've met, and unless you made this just a few seconds ago," She gestures to the dress. "you seemed to already know about my measurements and my... current condition. Or was this dress meant for someone else? In which case, I wouldn't want to keep it from them."
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)
*I'm doing fine. I've just finished up with a DnD session, and I'm going to be playing another one with Theren as the DM in about 2 hours. How about you?*
"Correct." He says simply. "I was just thinking ahead. The material is strong, and softer than silk. It used to be monopolized for the creation of multipurpose articles with a name lost to history. The plants that produced the original fibers went extinct, so this was made with a revived version, widely believed to be of inferior quality. But it's 100% real, according to the tailor." They hold out a tiny card with specifics on the creation and the shop that made the dress. It's not on this plane.
*I'm doing alright as well. Hope the session with Theren goes wonderfully!*
"Ah, yes... thinking... ahead..." She's silent for a while, listening to Goto's explanation with clear interest and reading the card's writing when he hands it to her. She sets the dress nearby, running her hand across its unbelievably soft fabric for a moment. "...I have a question. Did you already know me before now? This is the first time we've met, and unless you made this just a few seconds ago," She gestures to the dress. "you seemed to already know about my measurements and my... current condition. Or was this dress meant for someone else? In which case, I wouldn't want to keep it from them."
"I was just thinking ahead." They repeat. "Nothing more."
They walk past her. "Please don't ask me what I know about you. You know what witches are like."
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.
*I'm doing alright as well. Hope the session with Theren goes wonderfully!*
"Ah, yes... thinking... ahead..." She's silent for a while, listening to Goto's explanation with clear interest and reading the card's writing when he hands it to her. She sets the dress nearby, running her hand across its unbelievably soft fabric for a moment. "...I have a question. Did you already know me before now? This is the first time we've met, and unless you made this just a few seconds ago," She gestures to the dress. "you seemed to already know about my measurements and my... current condition. Or was this dress meant for someone else? In which case, I wouldn't want to keep it from them."
"I was just thinking ahead." They repeat. "Nothing more."
They walk past her. "Please don't ask me what I know about you. You know what witches are like."
"...Alright, I'll keep that question to myself." She responds, still pondering how exactly they anticipated this all, but knowing that now isn't the time to find the answer to that enigma. "So... what brings you to the sanctuary, if I may ask?" She questions, before taking another bite of plum pudding.
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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)
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
*Circle your on! I would RP put I got to play in my campaign.*
Edit: Is the Symbiote done?
*Hello?*
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"The Biggest problem D&D player face is their own bad decisions." "What doesn't kill you makes you more likely to die."- @Thauraeln_The_Bol "Well, hey, if it ain't broke, then break it!"@Former_Queen_Yvonne
"I was just thinking ahead." They repeat. "Nothing more."
They walk past her. "Please don't ask me what I know about you. You know what witches are like."
"...Alright, I'll keep that question to myself." She responds, still pondering how exactly they anticipated this all, but knowing that now isn't the time to find the answer to that enigma. "So... what brings you to the sanctuary, if I may ask?" She questions, before taking another bite of plum pudding.
"Mother Moth found me nearly frozen to death. Turns out having your lungs filled with liquid makes you more susceptible to cold." He chuckles, approaching the fire. "I'm thinking of transmuting my curse again. Hopefully it goes better than last time."
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.
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
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)
"I was just thinking ahead." They repeat. "Nothing more."
They walk past her. "Please don't ask me what I know about you. You know what witches are like."
"...Alright, I'll keep that question to myself." She responds, still pondering how exactly they anticipated this all, but knowing that now isn't the time to find the answer to that enigma. "So... what brings you to the sanctuary, if I may ask?" She questions, before taking another bite of plum pudding.
"Mother Moth found me nearly frozen to death. Turns out having your lungs filled with liquid makes you more susceptible to cold." He chuckles, approaching the fire. "I'm thinking of transmuting my curse again. Hopefully it goes better than last time."
"That's how she found me as well. Hopefully things will warm up again soon, and here's hoping your attempt goes well." She moves a little bit closer to the fire as well, watching the flames dance for a few seconds before she refocuses again. "...How... how did you get this curse?"
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)
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
*Hello, my dearest Yvonne! I’m doing pretty well. Found a pdf of crooked moon and, uh, I’m obsessed.*
Helianth soon finds their way to a miles-wide field of graves, tombs, and the occasional mausoleum, with a dark river running through it. The entire area is half-buried in snow, but the embers illuminate a set of hoofprints making its way to the center of the necropolis, which seemed to have melted the surrounding snow. From afar, they see the shadow of Julius, perched atop a tombstone, ashen brambles snaking their way around the area, creating a heated spot in the cold winter. All they can see of him is his candlelit eyes, but that’s enough to confirm it’s Julius.
Mother Moth sits down next to her, being careful not to make a sound, just watching her work. Her wings are wrapped close to her body to conserve warmth.
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This is TheFriendlyArchfey’s Alternate Account! “Your Dream Girl’s Dream Girl, Your Favorite Artist’s Favorite Artist.”
_-She Don’t wanna be anybody else, she’s a woman in total control of herself-_
_-certified Villainous Kitty Queen-_ _-somewhere in the gray area between an eldritch horror and a Disney Villain-_ _-Duchess of Dark Fey Vibes-_
“I believe the greatest act of rebellion in this world is staying soft.”
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
*I'm doing okay. People around me are upset though, for a multitude of reasons.*
It notices a sound. A staccato rumble in the air. It sounds like the clacking of bones, a common sound in Ghoul Country, but multiplied a thousandfold. Then it notices a light in the distance. No, many lights. Hundreds of skulls, each with a Continual Flame within. A skeleton army. Then a small voice calls out, amplified by magic.
"Make way! His Lordship arrives swiftly! Remain indoors and do not be alarmed! If you have done no harm, none shall come to you! Do not be afraid!" A small, hooded creature drives a carriage in front of the throngs of undead, pulled by spectral steeds. There is no flash of armor or weapons. No clanking of steel. All that can be heard is bones.
"Mother Moth found me nearly frozen to death. Turns out having your lungs filled with liquid makes you more susceptible to cold." He chuckles, approaching the fire. "I'm thinking of transmuting my curse again. Hopefully it goes better than last time."
"That's how she found me as well. Hopefully things will warm up again soon, and here's hoping your attempt goes well." She moves a little bit closer to the fire as well, watching the flames dance for a few seconds before she refocuses again. "...How... how did you get this curse?"
He shakes his head quietly. "I would not ask such things... You are not equipped to help me. Not even Mother Moth is."
They hold out a hand, and the fire grows slightly larger. The gingerbread familiar wanders off. "Sweetlead is going to go find some more sticks so we can dry them. If this fire goes out, we might not be able to start it again."
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
*Hello, my dearest Yvonne! I’m doing pretty well. Found a pdf of crooked moon and, uh, I’m obsessed.*
Helianth soon finds their way to a miles-wide field of graves, tombs, and the occasional mausoleum, with a dark river running through it. The entire area is half-buried in snow, but the embers illuminate a set of hoofprints making its way to the center of the necropolis, which seemed to have melted the surrounding snow. From afar, they see the shadow of Julius, perched atop a tombstone, ashen brambles snaking their way around the area, creating a heated spot in the cold winter. All they can see of him is his candlelit eyes, but that’s enough to confirm it’s Julius.
Mother Moth sits down next to her, being careful not to make a sound, just watching her work. Her wings are wrapped close to her body to conserve warmth.
*That's great- I haven't seen much of the crooked moon setting, but I'm already hooked as well!*
The once-godly ghoul looks up at the candlelit eyes, bowing its heads slightly. "Greetings, Julius. Were it not for the circumstances of our meeting, I would have brought some tea for us, but time is of the essence." It starts, hoping to seem more amicable despite being a major reason the Autumn Country is in this mess to begin with. "Would I be correct to assume the 'thing' your letter mentions is the Ravenous Flame?"
She doesn't notice her sitting down nearby, so thoroughly engrossed in her work. She doesn't even hum as she knits like she normally does. This lattice of silk, and the shape it's oh so slowly forming, reminds the moth matriarch of something. Something she's seen her children weave countless times before. It's too early to tell for certain, but it almost looks like the makings of...
...of a cocoon.
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)
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
*I'm doing okay. People around me are upset though, for a multitude of reasons.*
It notices a sound. A staccato rumble in the air. It sounds like the clacking of bones, a common sound in Ghoul Country, but multiplied a thousandfold. Then it notices a light in the distance. No, many lights. Hundreds of skulls, each with a Continual Flame within. A skeleton army. Then a small voice calls out, amplified by magic.
"Make way! His Lordship arrives swiftly! Remain indoors and do not be alarmed! If you have done no harm, none shall come to you! Do not be afraid!" A small, hooded creature drives a carriage in front of the throngs of undead, pulled by spectral steeds. There is no flash of armor or weapons. No clanking of steel. All that can be heard is bones.
*I'm sorry about that- at the very least, it's good that you're doing alright.*
The star-eater looks at the oncoming army, watching all the hundreds of magical flames with hunger before it dismisses the thought and proceeds slightly forward towards the marching horde. It's more curious than anything, watching the carriage and its gargantuan following to see if it can deduce more.
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)
*I'm doing okay. People around me are upset though, for a multitude of reasons.*
It notices a sound. A staccato rumble in the air. It sounds like the clacking of bones, a common sound in Ghoul Country, but multiplied a thousandfold. Then it notices a light in the distance. No, many lights. Hundreds of skulls, each with a Continual Flame within. A skeleton army. Then a small voice calls out, amplified by magic.
"Make way! His Lordship arrives swiftly! Remain indoors and do not be alarmed! If you have done no harm, none shall come to you! Do not be afraid!" A small, hooded creature drives a carriage in front of the throngs of undead, pulled by spectral steeds. There is no flash of armor or weapons. No clanking of steel. All that can be heard is bones.
*I'm sorry about that- at the very least, it's good that you're doing alright.*
The star-eater looks at the oncoming army, watching all the hundreds of magical flames with hunger before it dismisses the thought and proceeds slightly forward towards the marching horde. It's more curious than anything, watching the carriage and its gargantuan following to see if it can deduce more.
The entire army suddenly stops in unison, as if on cue. They weren't marching in perfect lines before, but they all stopped at just the right time, and without the rattle and clatter of bones, the silence is suddenly deafening. The carriage keeps moving a little bit longer than the rest of the crowd, taking the time to slow down before the draft spirits fade away. The driver hops down and uses a mage hand to open the door, letting out a towering being with glowing purple eyes and beautiful, black-and-silver armor. The diminutive servant speaks once more, though without amplification. "Hail! His Lordship wishes to converse with thee, O God-Swallowing Vine!"
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.
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
*Hello, my dearest Yvonne! I’m doing pretty well. Found a pdf of crooked moon and, uh, I’m obsessed.*
Helianth soon finds their way to a miles-wide field of graves, tombs, and the occasional mausoleum, with a dark river running through it. The entire area is half-buried in snow, but the embers illuminate a set of hoofprints making its way to the center of the necropolis, which seemed to have melted the surrounding snow. From afar, they see the shadow of Julius, perched atop a tombstone, ashen brambles snaking their way around the area, creating a heated spot in the cold winter. All they can see of him is his candlelit eyes, but that’s enough to confirm it’s Julius.
Mother Moth sits down next to her, being careful not to make a sound, just watching her work. Her wings are wrapped close to her body to conserve warmth.
*That's great- I haven't seen much of the crooked moon setting, but I'm already hooked as well!*
The once-godly ghoul looks up at the candlelit eyes, bowing its heads slightly. "Greetings, Julius. Were it not for the circumstances of our meeting, I would have brought some tea for us, but time is of the essence." It starts, hoping to seem more amicable despite being a major reason the Autumn Country is in this mess to begin with. "Would I be correct to assume the 'thing' your letter mentions is the Ravenous Flame?"
She doesn't notice her sitting down nearby, so thoroughly engrossed in her work. She doesn't even hum as she knits like she normally does. This lattice of silk, and the shape it's oh so slowly forming, reminds the moth matriarch of something. Something she's seen her children weave countless times before. It's too early to tell for certain, but it almost looks like the makings of...
...of a cocoon.
*Crooked Moon is just… one of the most interesting settings I’ve ever read about. Its own demiplane between life and death, between dusk and the Witching Hour, where the pale, crooked light of a crooked moon shines upon a crooked house, where there lives a crooked man. Most of the people who live in the plane, Druskenvald, are people who reincarnated after dying, into one of thirteen unique races, or, just as common, their original race. Like 15 new subclasses, 85 monsters, I just love all of it.*
he nods. “It-… tried to kill me. We need to get rid of it as soon as possible, or it will consume-… all of Autumn Country.”
she stifles a gasp, catching the very sound of it with spectral silk, and silencing it. She looks into Adeline’s eyes, unsure if she should interrupt the process or not-… her Antennae flicker, and Adeline hears something speak to her directly within her mind. Adeline. Adeline… are you alright? Mother Moth asks telepathically.
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This is TheFriendlyArchfey’s Alternate Account! “Your Dream Girl’s Dream Girl, Your Favorite Artist’s Favorite Artist.”
_-She Don’t wanna be anybody else, she’s a woman in total control of herself-_
_-certified Villainous Kitty Queen-_ _-somewhere in the gray area between an eldritch horror and a Disney Villain-_ _-Duchess of Dark Fey Vibes-_
“I believe the greatest act of rebellion in this world is staying soft.”
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
*Hello, my dearest Yvonne! I’m doing pretty well. Found a pdf of crooked moon and, uh, I’m obsessed.*
Helianth soon finds their way to a miles-wide field of graves, tombs, and the occasional mausoleum, with a dark river running through it. The entire area is half-buried in snow, but the embers illuminate a set of hoofprints making its way to the center of the necropolis, which seemed to have melted the surrounding snow. From afar, they see the shadow of Julius, perched atop a tombstone, ashen brambles snaking their way around the area, creating a heated spot in the cold winter. All they can see of him is his candlelit eyes, but that’s enough to confirm it’s Julius.
Mother Moth sits down next to her, being careful not to make a sound, just watching her work. Her wings are wrapped close to her body to conserve warmth.
*That's great- I haven't seen much of the crooked moon setting, but I'm already hooked as well!*
The once-godly ghoul looks up at the candlelit eyes, bowing its heads slightly. "Greetings, Julius. Were it not for the circumstances of our meeting, I would have brought some tea for us, but time is of the essence." It starts, hoping to seem more amicable despite being a major reason the Autumn Country is in this mess to begin with. "Would I be correct to assume the 'thing' your letter mentions is the Ravenous Flame?"
She doesn't notice her sitting down nearby, so thoroughly engrossed in her work. She doesn't even hum as she knits like she normally does. This lattice of silk, and the shape it's oh so slowly forming, reminds the moth matriarch of something. Something she's seen her children weave countless times before. It's too early to tell for certain, but it almost looks like the makings of...
...of a cocoon.
*Crooked Moon is just… one of the most interesting settings I’ve ever read about. Its own demiplane between life and death, between dusk and the Witching Hour, where the pale, crooked light of a crooked moon shines upon a crooked house, where there lives a crooked man. Most of the people who live in the plane, Druskenvald, are people who reincarnated after dying, into one of thirteen unique races, or, just as common, their original race. Like 15 new subclasses, 85 monsters, I just love all of it.*
he nods. “It-… tried to kill me. We need to get rid of it as soon as possible, or it will consume-… all of Autumn Country.”
she stifles a gasp, catching the very sound of it with spectral silk, and silencing it. She looks into Adeline’s eyes, unsure if she should interrupt the process or not-… her Antennae flicker, and Adeline hears something speak to her directly within her mind. Adeline. Adeline… are you alright? Mother Moth asks telepathically.
*Oh wow, that sounds like a lot of fun! I'm happy you find it amazing, and I'll probably look into finding the setting myself!*
"Hmmm... we might not have time for our plan of trapping it on an isle, then..." It thinks to itself for a few seconds, before its flames brighten just the faintest bit. "I have an idea. I don't imagine you'll like it much, but given how little time we have, it may be our best shot." A brief pause as it organizes its thoughts. "The Ravenous Flame, from what I've observed of its behavior, doesn't simply destroy or consume- it incorporates what it devours into its being. That intellect it has, since I've been separated from it by Amina, is taken from the Frenzied Flame's own cunning. Therefore, if I were to let it consume me... there's a good chance I could take control of it."
Adeline's eyes focus somewhat upon hearing her telepathic question, her knitting paused for a moment- it's almost like she just woke up from sleepwalking. "I- I think so, why?..." She looks down at the partial cocoon and the needle and silk in her hands. "...Ah, that's why. It happened again, didn't it?"
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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)
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“Do you have a cage?”
Lightning flashes, it creates ash. The ash forms a human.
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
"Not for humanoids." He stands up. "It looks like I'll need to let this... ferment for a while. See what happens."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Ok.” His skin turns to red scales as his head gains a snout and he looks more dragon then he sprouts wings.
Lightning flashes, it creates ash. The ash forms a human.
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
*gtg*
Lightning flashes, it creates ash. The ash forms a human.
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
*I'm doing alright as well. Hope the session with Theren goes wonderfully!*
"Ah, yes... thinking... ahead..." She's silent for a while, listening to Goto's explanation with clear interest and reading the card's writing when he hands it to her. She sets the dress nearby, running her hand across its unbelievably soft fabric for a moment. "...I have a question. Did you already know me before now? This is the first time we've met, and unless you made this just a few seconds ago," She gestures to the dress. "you seemed to already know about my measurements and my... current condition. Or was this dress meant for someone else? In which case, I wouldn't want to keep it from them."
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 was just thinking ahead." They repeat. "Nothing more."
They walk past her. "Please don't ask me what I know about you. You know what witches are like."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"...Alright, I'll keep that question to myself." She responds, still pondering how exactly they anticipated this all, but knowing that now isn't the time to find the answer to that enigma. "So... what brings you to the sanctuary, if I may ask?" She questions, before taking another bite of plum pudding.
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)
*back*
Lightning flashes, it creates ash. The ash forms a human.
If you don’t know where I am, I’m either sleeping or roleplaying. If I’m doing neither of those things, except the worst. (Do not actually expect the worst) If you need to talk then PM me. Head Acolyte of The Tree Cult.
*Hello?*
"The Biggest problem D&D player face is their own bad decisions." "What doesn't kill you makes you more likely to die."- @Thauraeln_The_Bol "Well, hey, if it ain't broke, then break it!"@Former_Queen_Yvonne
See my homebrew spells, monsters, and this thread
Pronouns are he, him, and part of the Tree cult, the cult of science, and the Cult of the Nothic, and plays on Tenbrae Sine Fine
Please help us!!! (Link) Nickname is Colton
"Mother Moth found me nearly frozen to death. Turns out having your lungs filled with liquid makes you more susceptible to cold." He chuckles, approaching the fire. "I'm thinking of transmuting my curse again. Hopefully it goes better than last time."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Gooooooood morning y'all! How are you today?*
Helianth is continuing its journey to the necropolis, quickly following the flickering embers on its way to meet with the Harvest Prince. The god-eater has dimmed its own flames somewhat to better hide under the cloak of night.
Adeline is on the outskirts of the Silken Sanctuary, continuing to knit her strange silken project into shape in an almost trance-like state. It's still not even a quarter of the way finished, but judging by the length of the piece she has completed, whatever it is she's making is as big as herself.
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)
"That's how she found me as well. Hopefully things will warm up again soon, and here's hoping your attempt goes well." She moves a little bit closer to the fire as well, watching the flames dance for a few seconds before she refocuses again. "...How... how did you get this curse?"
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)
*Hello, my dearest Yvonne! I’m doing pretty well. Found a pdf of crooked moon and, uh, I’m obsessed.*
Helianth soon finds their way to a miles-wide field of graves, tombs, and the occasional mausoleum, with a dark river running through it. The entire area is half-buried in snow, but the embers illuminate a set of hoofprints making its way to the center of the necropolis, which seemed to have melted the surrounding snow. From afar, they see the shadow of Julius, perched atop a tombstone, ashen brambles snaking their way around the area, creating a heated spot in the cold winter. All they can see of him is his candlelit eyes, but that’s enough to confirm it’s Julius.
Mother Moth sits down next to her, being careful not to make a sound, just watching her work. Her wings are wrapped close to her body to conserve warmth.
This is TheFriendlyArchfey’s Alternate Account! “Your Dream Girl’s Dream Girl, Your Favorite Artist’s Favorite Artist.”
_-She Don’t wanna be anybody else, she’s a woman in total control of herself-_
_-certified Villainous Kitty Queen-_ _-somewhere in the gray area between an eldritch horror and a Disney Villain-_ _-Duchess of Dark Fey Vibes-_
“I believe the greatest act of rebellion in this world is staying soft.”
*I'm doing okay. People around me are upset though, for a multitude of reasons.*
It notices a sound. A staccato rumble in the air. It sounds like the clacking of bones, a common sound in Ghoul Country, but multiplied a thousandfold. Then it notices a light in the distance. No, many lights. Hundreds of skulls, each with a Continual Flame within. A skeleton army. Then a small voice calls out, amplified by magic.
"Make way! His Lordship arrives swiftly! Remain indoors and do not be alarmed! If you have done no harm, none shall come to you! Do not be afraid!" A small, hooded creature drives a carriage in front of the throngs of undead, pulled by spectral steeds. There is no flash of armor or weapons. No clanking of steel. All that can be heard is bones.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He shakes his head quietly. "I would not ask such things... You are not equipped to help me. Not even Mother Moth is."
They hold out a hand, and the fire grows slightly larger. The gingerbread familiar wanders off. "Sweetlead is going to go find some more sticks so we can dry them. If this fire goes out, we might not be able to start it again."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*That's great- I haven't seen much of the crooked moon setting, but I'm already hooked as well!*
The once-godly ghoul looks up at the candlelit eyes, bowing its heads slightly. "Greetings, Julius. Were it not for the circumstances of our meeting, I would have brought some tea for us, but time is of the essence." It starts, hoping to seem more amicable despite being a major reason the Autumn Country is in this mess to begin with. "Would I be correct to assume the 'thing' your letter mentions is the Ravenous Flame?"
She doesn't notice her sitting down nearby, so thoroughly engrossed in her work. She doesn't even hum as she knits like she normally does. This lattice of silk, and the shape it's oh so slowly forming, reminds the moth matriarch of something. Something she's seen her children weave countless times before. It's too early to tell for certain, but it almost looks like the makings of...
...of a cocoon.
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'm sorry about that- at the very least, it's good that you're doing alright.*
The star-eater looks at the oncoming army, watching all the hundreds of magical flames with hunger before it dismisses the thought and proceeds slightly forward towards the marching horde. It's more curious than anything, watching the carriage and its gargantuan following to see if it can deduce more.
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 entire army suddenly stops in unison, as if on cue. They weren't marching in perfect lines before, but they all stopped at just the right time, and without the rattle and clatter of bones, the silence is suddenly deafening.
The carriage keeps moving a little bit longer than the rest of the crowd, taking the time to slow down before the draft spirits fade away. The driver hops down and uses a mage hand to open the door, letting out a towering being with glowing purple eyes and beautiful, black-and-silver armor. The diminutive servant speaks once more, though without amplification. "Hail! His Lordship wishes to converse with thee, O God-Swallowing Vine!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Crooked Moon is just… one of the most interesting settings I’ve ever read about. Its own demiplane between life and death, between dusk and the Witching Hour, where the pale, crooked light of a crooked moon shines upon a crooked house, where there lives a crooked man. Most of the people who live in the plane, Druskenvald, are people who reincarnated after dying, into one of thirteen unique races, or, just as common, their original race. Like 15 new subclasses, 85 monsters, I just love all of it.*
he nods. “It-… tried to kill me. We need to get rid of it as soon as possible, or it will consume-… all of Autumn Country.”
she stifles a gasp, catching the very sound of it with spectral silk, and silencing it. She looks into Adeline’s eyes, unsure if she should interrupt the process or not-… her Antennae flicker, and Adeline hears something speak to her directly within her mind. Adeline. Adeline… are you alright? Mother Moth asks telepathically.
This is TheFriendlyArchfey’s Alternate Account! “Your Dream Girl’s Dream Girl, Your Favorite Artist’s Favorite Artist.”
_-She Don’t wanna be anybody else, she’s a woman in total control of herself-_
_-certified Villainous Kitty Queen-_ _-somewhere in the gray area between an eldritch horror and a Disney Villain-_ _-Duchess of Dark Fey Vibes-_
“I believe the greatest act of rebellion in this world is staying soft.”
*Oh wow, that sounds like a lot of fun! I'm happy you find it amazing, and I'll probably look into finding the setting myself!*
"Hmmm... we might not have time for our plan of trapping it on an isle, then..." It thinks to itself for a few seconds, before its flames brighten just the faintest bit. "I have an idea. I don't imagine you'll like it much, but given how little time we have, it may be our best shot." A brief pause as it organizes its thoughts. "The Ravenous Flame, from what I've observed of its behavior, doesn't simply destroy or consume- it incorporates what it devours into its being. That intellect it has, since I've been separated from it by Amina, is taken from the Frenzied Flame's own cunning. Therefore, if I were to let it consume me... there's a good chance I could take control of it."
Adeline's eyes focus somewhat upon hearing her telepathic question, her knitting paused for a moment- it's almost like she just woke up from sleepwalking. "I- I think so, why?..." She looks down at the partial cocoon and the needle and silk in her hands. "...Ah, that's why. It happened again, didn't it?"
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)