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katakaluptastrophy · 5 months

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There's so much going on at the end of the anniversary dinner.

There's Cytherea saying the dinner was "useful" and affectionately referring to the Fourth as "the children", when it of course transpires that the dinner was useful for identifying who to murder first, and when she will hunt and torment those children just weeks later.

Then, as the Fourth's whispered conversation about biceps grows in volume, this happens:

Their hisses carried. Abigail, who was standing nearby deep in conversation with one of the Second, reached out a hand to touch Isaac lightly on the shoulder in reproof. She did not even turn around or break off talking. The Fourth adept winced: his cavalier had a hard, resentful, told-off expression on her face.

The Fourth seem particularly upset by Abigail's silent warning. And with good reason. Isaac is the Baron of the Fourth. We know from the Cohort Intelligence Files that his father's title was held in stewardship. We also know that Abigail managed to get them rejected from the Cohort on age grounds, despite the fact that when they applied they were several years older than Judith was when she joined up. Which raises a interesting question: what is the Houses' definition of legal majority and does it differ by House? Did their rejection on age grounds perhaps have something to do with their education on the Fifth? Would they have been eligible on the Fourth, but were still considered children and in education on the Fifth? Regardless, at 13 Isaac is holding the title of Baron and Jeannemary is his cavalier primary. They are there formally as House scions in contention for Lyctorhood. They are, we have to assume, at this point in some legal way adults as far as the society of the Nine Houses is concerned. And there is Abigail - Abigail Pent, Lady of the Fifth, the House at that moment apparently actively annexing the Fourth - treating them as if they are still children and under her authority in public. Of course they're upset.

This isn't to say that it wasn't an otherwise prosaic family interaction and that they don't have a loving and very familial relationship with the Fifth - we see them bobbing around after Magnus and in and out of the kitchen before the dinner, happily acting like the Fifth's children. But the casualness with which Abigail shushes Isaac is inescapably, for all of them, also political.

And Cytherea immediately picks up on this. It's what seems to provoke her moment of candid reflection on House politics to Gideon:

Dulcinea murmured, “Oh, Gideon the Ninth, the Houses are arranged so badly … full of suspicion after a whole myriad of peaceable years. What do they compete for? The Emperor’s favour? What does that look like? What can they want?

Cytherea perceives this interaction as political. As evidence that she's right - that the whole system is broken. She sees competition in Abigail's parental gesture, and suspicion in the frustration of teenagers who want to be grown ups. And she kills them all.

And there's two rather awful thoughts that follow from this.

The first is the extent to which Jod's shitty system poisons things. Abigail Pent, who just wants to nerd out about ghosts but is very good at whatever job she sets herself to, has a marriage with a man that she loves as an equal...and over whom she holds life and death authority three times over, as his feudal lord, as his boss, and as his necromancer. He dies because he is her cavalier, even though it's suggested that his cavaliership was in part Abigail's gesture against having to participate in the whole system in the first place and evidence of her plans to escape it. And despite the fact that they clearly loved the Fourth as their own, every gesture of that love was also inescapably part of a political manoeuvre set in motion by previous leaders of the Fifth to draw the Fourth further under their control. And with Isaac still, at least on paper, holding authority in his own right, prosaic parts of that relationship suddenly become matters of state and not the teenage drive for independence. And Cytherea looks at this and, for all her hatred of Jod, is unable to see him as the poison at the root of it.

Worse, we don't know what happened next. We know eventually the Fifth went to the Facility, but what did the Fourth do? Did they make up, and say their fond goodnights? Or is part of the Fourth's hysterical grief as they try to summon the Fifth's ghosts at the crime scene because they slunk off after this, and it was the last time they ever saw them alive?

#the locked tomb #tlt #abigail pent #magnus quinn #isaac tettares #jeannemary chatur #cytherea the first #tlt meta

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guess-that-ship · 2 months

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Guess That Ship Tournament Season 10: Submissions CLOSED!

The Concept: You describe your ship* to me, I pick out the submissions which I find most compelling and pit them against each other without revealing who they are, people vote on them, and their identities gets revealed once they’re eliminated.

Something special for this season will be a loser's bracket: the identities of the losers of Round 1 will not be revealed immediately. Instead, they will compete in their own bracket, and the winner will face against the finalists in the main bracket.

Submission Guidelines

*For the purpose of this tournament, relationships do not have to be romantic in nature. I’m sometimes going to use “ship” as a shorthand, just know I mean “relationships” in general.

Relationship can be between any number of characters.

Real people are accepted if they’ve been dead for more than 100 years.

Roleplay characters are accepted as long as the description only pertains to the characters and not the players.

OCs are accepted.

No overtly NSFW submissions. (Mentioning they have sex or are a sex worker is fine, but try to avoid anything more than that.)

Two submission per person. (I cannot enforce this on Google Forms without forcing you to log in. So just be champs and respect this rule.)

Failure to follow these guidelines may result in all of your submissions being disqualified for this season.

Summary Guidelines

Selection Process: I will read through the list of descriptions submitted without reading their names and pick the most compelling submissions. Then, I will check the name to make sure there's no repeats.

Keep it concise, but also bring something unique to the table. Make sure to describe their relationship, not just summarize the events of the story.

Previous submissions for reference. The ideal submission should be 2-3 paragraphs, but you can make it as short or long as you want. Please keep in mind the longer your submission, the less likely it is to get in.

A list of things to try to avoid can be found here.

Descriptions should be based on canon, not headcanon. (e.g. You can say “they love each other” instead of “they’re lovers” if their romantic nature is debatable.)

Avoid author commentary. (e.g. "They're canonically x," "I love them," "Play/watch/read this," etc.)

Use canonical pronouns.

Avoid identifying information or setting specific giveaways. (i.e. Ninja village, space necromancers.)

When submitting OCs, please make sure to at least put a name somewhere. (e.g. "John and Bob by anonymous" or "OCs by Joey.")

The more popular your ship is the more vague the description should be.

Exclusions

Ships that were accepted in Season 7 onwards and ships that at least reached the semifinals in Season 1-6 are not allowed. For a complete list, please look here. (No need to look through the whole list, just Ctrl+F to find the ship you want.)

Any submissions from Harry Potter will also not be included.

Notes

I will not vet the ships/pairings for problematic content.

If you participate in this tournament, know that you run the risk of unintentionally voting for your nOTP. The mod does not take any responsibility for any distress that may cause you.

Submit your ships here! Submissions will be open until Sunday, March 3rd at 9 PM EST.

Please reblog this post to spread the word! The more submissions, the better!

#tournament poll #submission call #tumblr tournament #s10

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magic-the-girlbossing · 11 months

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The Multiversal Girlboss battle is over!

Let's take a moment to look at the top 8 of our fine competition.

#1 - Vraska, Queen of the Golgari

With a resume sporting feats of assassination, piracy, and a successful hostile overtaking of a swarm-like guild, it's unsurprising she'd find herself at the top.

#2 - Alesha, Khan of the Mardu

This Khan who smiles at death viciously fought her way to the top, on the back of not only her incredible list of feats but also the fact that she is, indeed, transgender.

Tied for #3 - Liliana Vess

Though I doubt she'd settle for tying, she'll have to accept it. This intrepid necromancer has seen the most limelight of any of the girlbosses in this tourney. I would go so far as to say that in her early years she defined what it meant to be a Magic girlboss. Unfortunately for her, her recently compromised girlboss status due to a pesky thing called "character growth" doomed her to third place.

Tied for #3 - Teysa Karlov

Opportunistic and cutthroat, Teysa's slow climb of the Orzhov ladder, leaving her effectively at the top of a corporate AND religious hierarchy, gave her a strong case for her ascension to the title of ultimate girlboss. Unfortunately, she lost out to someone who was actually able to take over a guild.

Tied for #5 - Queen Marchesa D'Amati

Long may reign the queen of Fiora, but let it be known that this is the highest title that she will achieve.

Tied for #5 - Nahiri, the Lithomancer

While Nahiri has surely taken some girlboss actions (read: committed some war crimes), her status as a repeated failgirl blocked her from ascending any further in this competition.

Tied for #5 - Ashnod the Uncaring

Speaking of war crimes, it's Ashnod! In spite both of her numerous felonies and her sporting that bob (one of the most girlboss hairstyles) she fell just short of greatness in this one.

Tied for #5 - Emrakul, The Promised End

Rounding out our list we have Emrakul. We hope she's having fun up there in the moon, and we hope she knows we're ready for her to join us whenever she wants.

Link to final round masterpost.

#magic the girlbossing #magic the gathering #mtg #poll #poll bracket #girlboss #vraska #vraska mtg #alesha #alesha mtg #liliana vess #teysa karlov #marchesa d'amati #nahiri #nahiri mtg #ashnod #ashnod mtg #emrakul

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tiny-maus-boots · 2 months

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Darkest of Nights pt 19

Happy valentine's day, nerds.

Beca

All in all it hadn’t been the worst first meeting of the parents. At least. She didn't think it went that badly. Beca didn't really have anything to compare it to since there had never been anyone in her life to warrant a meeting of the folks before now.

She had learned a few things from them, however. Important things that had eased her mind being in the heart of a vampire stronghold.

The first being that every vampire there had defied the council in some way to protect or hide werefolk, humans, and fae to escape the Blood Guard. That counted for a lot in her book and forced her to change the way she was viewing vampires in general. Not that she truly trusted any of them besides Chloe and Aubrey but they had a stake in this fight for their own freedom.

All of them were as good as dead if the Council were to find them now. The necromancer pondered this as she turned on the shower to a deliciously warm spray and stepped under it. She sighed as she considered everything else she had heard too.

They would be safe there but only for a time. The blood guard would track them down eventually and all those vampires were now just sitting targets. Einar promised that every last one would fight for their lives but would they fight for hers?

Beca didn't think so. It wasn’t anything against them really. They didn't know her, and they were scared of what she could do to them. What she had done to them already. It weighed heavily on her as she lathered her hair and worked out the grit, sweat, and dried blood.

It didn't hurt. The necromancer frowned and gingerly touched all over her scalp but she couldn’t find any wounds that had occurred during her struggle with Billy Bob Pimp. Or the blast in the crypt. Her fingers trailed down her neck to brush over the delicate marks where Chloe had sunk fangs into her. There was no scabbing, only the smooth, slightly raised skin of scar tissue.

The brush of her fingertips over the bite marks caused a rush of heat to burn its way from her neck to parts decidedly lower and she had to inhale quickly to stifle the moan before it could slip past her lips.

Beca leaned against the cool tiled wall and focused on breathing. That was new. Not exactly unpleasant newness, but definitely unexpected. When she was sure her knees wouldn't buckle under her, she pushed off the wall and hurried through the rest of her shower looking for wounds that had already healed to unmarred flesh.

Finally wrapped in a luxuriously plush robe courtesy of Chloe, she leaned forward and looked into the mirror. No cuts, no bruises, no marks. Except for Chloe’s bite she was back to her usual resting bitch face with none the wiser about what she had just been through. Nothing had changed but she knew she was a different creature entirely than the woman who had been abducted from her caravan days..or weeks before. Honestly she wasn't even sure how much time had passed. It felt like a lifetime.

“Beca? Are you okay in there?”

She pulled back from the mirror at the knock and tightened her grip on the soft white terry cloth at her neck like the literal robe clutching prude that she was. Beca shuffled to the door and opened it a crack to peek out. Aubrey hovered just outside the door full of concern and holding a folded stack of clothes.

“What’s all that?”

“Chloe’s wardrobe is a little more…colorful than your usual style but I did find some things you might v-vibe with?”

God, did she have to be so fucking adorable all the time? Beca smiled and opened the door wider. “Still figuring out what the cool kids say, huh?”

“I feel as though I’m speaking a new language comprised of words I already know but no longer understand the meaning of.”

Aubrey handed over the folded stack of clothes with a soft frustrated sigh. It was hard to reconcile this gentle and confused woman with the crazed ax wielding demon vampire she knew the blonde could be.

“Well you're doing great. And you look like you feel better.”

The blonde gave a slight nod and self consciously brought her hand up to the side of her face that had been burned. There wasn't even a hint of redness now.

“Thanks to you. You seem to have healed as well.”

Aubrey reached out a tentative hand and grazed a fingertip along her jaw, tipping her head to the light. A cool hand cupped her cheek and Beca leaned into it. It was an almost perfect feeling standing there together. The air around them shifted as Chloe’s body filled the space beside them. Her pale arms slid around Beca and Aubrey, closing the circuit between them. Now it was perfect.

Power hummed up around them without the intensity they had called up in the van. This was something much softer and it swirled and eddied around them as though they were caught in a current. Their connection wasn't just magic that flowed between them, it was a part of each of them bound together in a way mere bodies could never achieve.

And the Council would never let them have this. Not without a fight.

Beca sighed and pulled back only enough to look at the two vampires. Now that she had whatever this was she intended to keep it. And as much as she wanted to sink into Chloe’s bed with them and do things that absolutely would get them arrested in several states and totally murdered by the Blood Guard, she knew they needed to plan.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe’s arms dropped from around them in resignation and Beca felt a tiny stab of rejection through their connection. The redhead mastered her tone and smiled just as airily and bright as always and it made Beca wonder how many times Chloe had done that before for her. Always accepting the rejection and only offering a teasing smile in return.

“Of course Bec. I'm sure you'd like to set up some ground rules for us…”

Confusion furrowed her brow at that. Rules? Beca opened her mouth but closed it with a click as she eyed them carefully.

“Wait…rules?”

“For our behavior.” Came Aubrey’s prompt reply.

“For your behavior?”

She felt like a parrot just repeating back what she was being told but her brain couldn't seem to wrap itself around what was being suggested. Chloe took pity on her and gestured vaguely around the apartment.

“So you'll feel safe here with us. We won't bite. We promise.”

Beca couldn't explain the way that made her feel. It was in their nature to bite. To feed. To take because they could. And yet for her, they would resist. Had resisted for days even with her leaking blood like a sieve after every injury.

“Oh Chlo…” How did she even begin to explain to them that biting wasn't even on her list of concerns? Beca reached out and took Chloe’s hand in her own, drawing her in closer. “I don't need you, either of you, to follow rules to make me feel safe. I trust you. Safe words for kink on the other hand…well we can get to that later.”

Chloe’s smile was slow and wide and Beca definitely felt her heart do flip flop things she hadn’t felt before. The redhead gave her a quick peck on the cheek and nudged her back into the bathroom.

“Put some pants on, Necromancer, or that talk is going to happen sooner than you think.”

Beca grinned and shut the door on them so she could dress. Not that she needed the privacy but she also didn't want to tempt Chloe into mounting her. Yet.

When she came out Aubrey was predictably hovering with nervous tension by the door.

“If not our behavior then what do you wish to speak to us about?”

Beca took in Aubrey’s small frown of confusion and reached out her free hand to the blonde and led her to bed where Chloe was patiently waiting. It felt better touching them both and she settled in between them, content to just be held.

“Our plan. Which seems like a stupid topic when we're all canoodled up like this. How are you warm right now?”

Chloe giggled at Aubrey’s obvious discomfort at the question and Beca was surprised to see a faint blush rise to the otherwise porcelain skin.

“We fed while you were showering. Aubrey is just a little embarrassed about breaking the fridge.”

“It was an accident.”

“You were drunk.”

Beca's eyes went wide. “Do I want to know?”

“She thought the stainless steel fridge was a can of sardines.”

“It has no handle! I didn’t know how to open it! What kind of contraption has a sealed door with no discernible handle?”

It started as a Muttley snicker that turned into a full on belly laugh that she couldn't seem to stop. Every overwrought nerve she had released its tension and she laughed until she could barely breathe and her sides hurt.

And they let her. Without her needing to explain why her hysterical laughter had turned to uncontrollable sobs. They simply held her between them and weathered the storm of Beca’s emotions with gentle kisses and soothing caresses.

“I'm sorry.”

“For having emotions? Bec, you're totes allowed to have all of the feels right now. You've been through a lot, we all have.”

Beca rubbed her face with both hands and sat up a little bit straighter. Having a break down was a luxury they couldn't really afford. After a second she was able to pull her wits together and face Chloe and Aubrey who were sitting there looking at her like…

The necromancer lifted her head prepared to see at the very least the shadow of cringe in their eyes. But she only found compassionate understanding from beings she never before thought capable of any such thing. It almost started another round of inexplicable crying and she had to look away quickly and clear her throat.

“Thanks. For you know, whatever.”

Aubrey’s head tipped to the side as she considered Beca carefully. She was sure the blonde ws secretly reading her mind with that assessing gaze.

“What? Is…is there something on my face or?”

“I would like to kiss you now.”

It started a sputtering laugh out of her and Beca found herself subconsciously stroking a thumb over spot on her arm that Aubrey fed from. Chloe's gaze tracked the movement and her lips pulled into a slow smile.

“I think we both would like to kiss you now.”

Beca opened her mouth to argue that they needed to plan their next steps, to prepare for the war they would bring to the Council but Aubrey’s warm hand cupped her jaw and gently guided her forward into a gentle kiss. The connection between them swelled at the first brush of lips against her own and it stole her breath away.

She pulled back and blinked owlishly at the blonde as she tried to order her thoughts and regain her focus. The necromancer cleared her throat and opened her mouth again. This time it was Chloe that guided her into a kiss and once again she was swallowed by a wave of magic and emotion so intense she could only make a helpless needy sound until the vampire pulled away.

“Okay rude.”

Aubrey’s brow furrowed in confusion. It was clearly not the reaction she had expected. Beca could feel another laugh starting to bubble up and tugged Aubrey forward into a smiling kiss.

“I didn't tell you to stop, Horny.”

They could wait to plan. Right? The Bloodguard couldn't be that close to finding them that they couldn't take some time for them….right? Chloe’s hand slid over her thigh and flicked her tongue teasingly over the scar she had left on Beca's neck. Fire shot down her spine and settled between her legs. Well. She was probably totally going to die anyway so why not go out with a bang?

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey posen #pitch perfect #pitch perfect au #vampires #necromancer #mause writes

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harmleikurdraws · 1 year

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Anyone remembers Bob the Necromancer?

It’s not even a proper illustration, just um.. I’m bored at work. Sorry Azkaban for using you like that.

And we’ll make death proud to take us by Literal_Satan

#moja lista opowiadań #modern warfare 2 #his name is arcarez so i heard

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blankdblank · 9 months

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Flying Buckets

…

“The White Council has spoken…” Thranduil growled out, having been reading the letter that brought him here weeks ago to talk sense into his oldest friends and get aid to move upon his lost peak within the Southern half of his forest. Glorfindel seated along the wall flinched as he did to the pained squeak and thud in response to his hard kick of a bucket through the window opening on the far wall of his suite.

“Always, the face….” A muffled and defeated voice had the pair spring up to race outside and find a petite woman plopped ungracefully on her side clutching her face to a angered flop of her foot down into the tall grass she was weighing down.

“Madam,” the Elf King felt himself sighing in a hard drop to a knee at her side. Blood clear as day from the now broken nose that hindered the already frustrated Dwarf Company of Thorin Oakenshield who were dead set on waiting until their most injury riddled member was right as rain for the continuation of their journey. Of course that was after an internal investigation on where the Princes were at during that time to ensure like a mishap with the ponies the first week had not been behind another bloody nose and facial bruise for her they were glad to be cleared of. Elrond was shouted for and the King himself carried her to aid without care of the stains to his outer robes terrifying so many in his pacing path outside the Healers Wing.

“You owe me,” was mouthed by her to the Elf King who was not blamed by the Company who would have ammunition enough already to despise him for all eternity off past grievances and grudges. The same Elf King who in his entrapped state offered a deal of his own, together they would call for aid from Dain to rid his Southern Woodlands of the Necromancer and then he would gladly aid in march upon the mountain, where they could surely work his lost gems once the arkenstone was recovered into a new trade deal to rekindle the relationship between their kingdoms.

Quietly as she stole a moment to the side of the grand hall being prepped for the coronation in a few weeks time the one to whom the King owed a debt felt his statuesque silent figure come up on her left. Silent as ever with more grace than she could dream to scoff at beside her now sling donning self thanks to another thankfully face bruise free incident one of Dain’s men unintentionally set off. “I believe we have yet to discuss terms of my debt to you.”

Up at him with brilliantly clear eyes she peered at him for another stunning glimpse of the face he’d sooner ache to coat with kisses and murmured sentiments of adoration than ever bring a single speck of a bruise to. “I want one of those head things,” that had his brow tick upwards to the circle of her good hand drawing a sloppy loop around her head. “Like Arwen and Elrond wear,” that gained a nod from him and she added peering back at the hall making his heart sink lower to her words than it ever had when he’d unfortunately caused her harm. “Everyone else has a title, some relation to the King and they all have some fancy bits and bobs they bring up to be wearing at the coronation. I get to go, but family sits with family and, I’m not family.” Up at him she looked after patting her bunched sleeve to her cheek forcing a grin onto her pinkened face, with eyes still glimmering with hint of tears in them. “If you have to you could say I cried and made you feel bad.”

“That is a poor repayment.” An answer that had her look away mid nod in the rejection riddled tone to the answer she assumed to be given so she would not actually become a sobbing mess and actually stir up some real trouble for the Elf King. An uncommon gesture of comfort of a hand on her shoulder blade halted a swivel of her head to search for a quick escape linked to ample hiding places until she would calm down. “The adornment is customary for such an event, consider it granted however many styles you deem to ask for.” Sloppily she sniffled and raised her hand and bunched up sleeve again to hover in front of the lower half of her face and cheeks as best as she could. “For now consider a much more proper form of repayment and do excuse me. On the subject of your seating arrangement, I have to speak to Lord Celeborn on terms of adopting you into his kin.”

“What?!” She squeaked out, turning to find he was gone somehow and was bent on greatly improving the station upon which would grant him a much closer distance to your seat than he could imagine possible at the moment for a Western wilds familiar Ranger.

#Thranduil x reader #Thranduil x oc #Thranduil x female ranger #flying buckets #accidental meeting #lotr #the hobbit #Thranduil #Glorfindel #Celeborn #Elrond #Thorin’s company

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uesp · 1 year

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While at a Necrom preview event, the UESP founder Dave Humphrey took some time to document the details of the Arcanist class, including all of its abilities. We're going to share the details with you here:

One of the main features of this Chapter is the introduction of the first new class in ESO since the Necromancer in 2019, which has been in development since late 2021. The devs had a hard time deciding on which class to add and simply named it "Bob" for a long time so as to not pigeon-hole themselves into any particular class. Eventually they decided on the Arcanist as it ties into the book/knowledge theme of the chapter.

The unique mechanic of the Arcanist is the building and spending of "Crux". You can have up to 3 points of Crux at any one time and it is shown both in your ability bar and around your character (and other players) in game. Some of your abilities will create Crux and some abilities will use Crux to create bonus damage or other effects. Some abilities will also gain bonuses from Crux but not spend it.

A short description of all the new class skills are in the following sections. Keep in mind there are still balance tweaks to be made so skills may change once on PTS.

The 3 Arcanist skills lines are:

Herald of the Tome -- Damage

Soldier of Apocrypha -- Tanking

Curative Runeforms -- Heal/Support

The skill line role listed above is general and you'll find useful skills and passives in all lines depending on your desired role. Skill animation are based around using a book in your hands keeping with the theme of Hermaeus Mora for the chapter.

Note that any spelling mistake on the following skill names is my fault (2 hours of play testing doesn't last that long).

Herald of the Tome

The primary damage skill line of the Arcanist.

Unblinking Eye (Ultimate) -- Summon a "scion" of Hermaeus Mora that does damage via a beam. Morphs into Tide King's Gave (beam follows target) and Languid Eye (adds snare).

Runeblade (Active, Mag/Sta) -- Costs Magicka or Stamina depending on your max resource. Does Magic Damage and creates Crux. Does more damage with increased Crux. Morphs into Writhing Runeblades (adds Crit Chance) and Scaling Runeblades (adds Damage).

Fatecarver (Active, Mag/Sta) -- Costs Magicka or Stamina depending on your max resource. Does beam Magic Damage. Spends Crux if you have any to increase Damage. Morphs into Exhausting Fatecarver (increases duration/strength of snare) and Pragmatic Fatecarver (spends crux to reduce cost).

Abyssal Impact (Active, Sta) -- Adds snare and "Ink". Morphs into Cephaliarch's Flail (creates Crux, adds damage to enemies below 50% health) and Tentacular Dread (Mag, spends Cruxs, adds Ink strength and immobilize damage).

Tome Bearer's Inspiration (Active, Mag) -- Creates Crux. Adds Major Brutality/Sorcery while slotted. Adds Rune damage to weapons, increases damage with Crux. Morphs into Inspired Scholarship (more frequent damage) and Reperative Treatise (restores mag/sta).

Imperfect Ring (Active, Mag) -- Does AOE damage. Morphs into Rune of Displacement (creates a rune that damages and pulls mobs) and Fulminated Rune (more area damage).

Fated Fortune (Passive) -- Adds Crit Damage/Healing whenever you gain or spend Crux.

Harnessed Quintessence (Passive) -- Adds Weapon/Spell Damage when you restore Mag/Sta.

Psychic Legion (Passive) -- With a Herald of Tome ability slotted gain status damage.

Splinted Secrets (Passive) -- For each Herald of Tome ability slotted gain penetration.

Soldier of Apocrypha

The primary tank skill line of the Arcanist.

Gibbering Shield (Ultimate) -- Absorb damage. Morphs into Sanctum of the Abyssal Sea (adds shield strength) and Gibbering Shelter (gives allies a damage shield).

Rune Jolt (Active, Mag) -- Does damage, Major Maim, taunt and creates Crux. Morphs into Runic Sunder (Sta, reduces target armor, gain armor) and Runic Embrace (Mag, adds heal and Minor Lifesteal).

Runespite Ward (Active, Mag) -- Damage shield, uses Crux to increase shield strength. Morphs into Spiteward of the Lucid Mind (crux refunds cost) and Impervious Runeward (much more damage shield for 1 second).

Fateworn Armor (Active, Mag) -- Adds Major Resolve and Minor Breach. Morphs into Cruxweaver Armor (adds buff duration, creates Crux when damaged) and Unbreakable Fate (adds block mitigation, spends Crux to increase bonus).

Rune of Eldritch Horror (Active, Mag) -- Paralyzes and adds Minor Vulnerability, undodgeable. Morphs into Rune of Uncannny Adoration (charms and snares) and Rune of the Colorless Pool (adds Minor Brittle).

Aegis of the Unseen (Passive) -- Adds Armor will using a Soldier of Apocrypha ability.

Wellspring of the Abyss (Passive) -- Adds Health/Magicka/Stamina recovery per Soldier of the Apocrypha ability slotted.

Circumvented Fate (Passive) -- Adds Minor Evasion when casting a Soldier of the Apocrypha ability.

Implacable Outcome (Passive) -- Spending Crux gains Ultimate.

Curative Runeforms

The primary healing and support skill line of the Arcanist.

Vitalizing Glyphic (Ultimate) -- Spawns a total that adds Weapon/Spell damage and healing. Grows in power when healed. Morphs into Glyphic of the Tides (spawns with more health) and Resonating Glyphic (damage totem to power it up).

Runemeld (Active, Mag) -- Heals and creates Crux. Heals more if you have Crux. Morphs into Evolving Runemeld (increases HOT heal) and Audacious Runemeld (gain ultimate at low health).

Remedy Cascade (Active, Mag) -- Beam heal, spending Crux restores Mag/Sta. Morphs into Cascading Fortune (heals more at low health) and Curative Surge (heals more as you channel).

Chakram Shields (Active, Mag) -- Spawns 3 discs with Damage Shield. Morphs into Chakram of Destiny (creates Crux, recasting increases shield) and Tidal Chakram (uses Crux to reduce cost).

Arcanist Domain (Active, Mag) -- Spawns an area that adds Minor Courage/Fortitude/Intellect/Endurance. Morphs into Zena's Empowering Discs (effect remains when you leave area) and Reconstructive Domain (adds a HOT).

Apocryphal Gate (Active, Mag) -- Creates 2 portals that you can walk into to teleport to the other one. Gain Crux when teleporting. Morphs into Fleet Footed Gate (increases move speed) and Passage Between Worlds (allies can use synergy to teleport).

Healing Tides (Passive) -- Adds healing done with Crux.

Hideous Clarity (Passive) -- Adds Mag/Sta when creating Crux.

Erudition (Passive) -- Adds Mag/Sta recovery.

Intricate Runeforms (Passive) -- When you have a Curative Runeform ability slotted reduce cost and increase strength of Damage Shields.

#UESP #The Elder Scrolls #Elder Scrolls Online

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the-gnomish-bastard · 4 months

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Gnomus, I am ashamed to admit I need your help. A necromancer has started raiding my hometowns graveyard and has put the entire village under siege. You are the only one I can reach that could help us now.

[Accept quest] [deny quest]

Rewards: 80 gold 115 xp

Tip: undead mobs are highly weak to radiant damage.

Is the Necromancer named Bob?

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sapphicworldttrpg · 5 months

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November 2023 Sapphicblog - Girlbits & Bobs

Wield my armaments, babe!

Welcome to the first of many Sapphicblogs, where I explain monthly updates to Sapphicworld's Playtest Edition! You're currently looking at the Tumblr version of this blog, which lacks in-depth details and thoughts about the development process present in the Patreon version. Subscribe to the Sapphicworld Patreon for more!

November was very focused on sharpening the game, filling in corners and expanding underdeveloped mechanics. I did a lot of things I've been procrastinating on for a while, and gave many characters extra love and 'placeness' in the setting.

What is 'placeness'? Well, when you look at any element of Sapphicworld, I want it to be clear where it fits in the world, and if a place is referred to I want it to be playable. This month's updates were focused on sharpening and enabling this vision of the game. With that, the list of new things!

November Additions

A 256 color palette for Sapphicworld (Duel by Arilyn), split up by Land!

Tons of new Relic and NPC art.

The Chimaeryn Most-Foul and its inhabitants, a coterie of necromancers and their undead army.

The Petrified Tangle, the sculpture garden of our beloved and petrifying Calcium Lady.

Rathold, (you pronounce the th with gusto), the fortress of The Brat Rats.

Operator Iris' Dollhouse, a place where you can shrunk down and glared at by gorgeous women.

Copy Manifold, a tunnel that leads down toward the strange, clone-spitting Heavenhead Engine.

New challenges for almost every Architecture, to make adventures more deep and exciting.

Final touches to The Birth Sore, a hidden land, as well as a secret 'Horror' and a special Relic.

Three new bikers: slimegirl Gug, snakegirl Aughnom, and vulturefreak Burndeep.

The Sea Surgeon, a new Title about recovering from a near-death experience and healing others.

The Northern Anomaly, a Relic exclusive to The Sea Surgeon that bends time itself.

Changespitter, a Relic which allows you to shoot d66 transformations at people.

Champion's Loop, a silly fighting game headband that ties into a coming Campaign.

Reworks to a variety of moves.

#TTRPG #Sapphicworld #Lesbian #November #Blog #Development Blog #RPG #Sapphic

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inbabylontheywept · 11 months

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Leviathan

The veil between life and death shattered. Davlin’s astral form had a mere fraction of a second to brace itself before it fell into the lightless depths of the everafter.

There was no splash to mark his arrival, just that same shock of cold he’d felt all those years ago. He tried to push the memory aside but fragments still drifted past: The shattering of the ice, his hair drifting lazily around him, the crack of a rib as his mother desperately tried to restart his heart.

His heart restarting.

He opened his eyes. His hair bobbed around him again, silver now, but as buoyant as it was in the memory. He’d never spoken with another necromancer long enough to learn whether death itself always had an aquatic theme, or merely his death. He could make out the glimmering forms of fresh souls in the shallows around him. Experience told him that those souls were useless as minions. Most were too fresh to realize they were dead, least of all forget who they were.

He’d have to dive deeper for that.

He pivoted in the space, bracing his legs against an intact part of the barrier and kicking off into the void beneath. His speed didn’t dissipate the way it would in water. If anything, it always seemed to gradually accelerate, like there was something at the bottom pulling every soul towards it. He didn’t want to consider what that thing could be.

He remained in his pose, weightless, the only reference for his speed being the occasional blur as he whipped past a fragment of soul. Any one of those pieces would’ve made a good enough catch for a simple husk of rotting meat and bone, but the vessel he’d prepared above required more than figments of thought and feeling.

It required a Leviathan.

He wasn’t sure how many people, ever, had known that such things existed. The fragmentary references to it that he’d found were literally antediluvian. Part of him wondered if the deluge had been called down to suppress the knowledge of them specifically, or if it was just one of the many sins that needed to be buried under mountains of water.

He saw it. Not the thing directly, that was still miles beneath the surface, but the whirling accretion disc of souls it was in the process of devouring. He forced mana into his palms, expelling it in shaped spikes of heatless force, and was surprised to find how much effort it took to begin slowing his descent. The pull that he’d felt towards the bottom was changing, and he realized that this may be the source of the afterlife’s gravity.

The cloud rushed up to meet him, and he was surprised at the vastness of it. Even the ancient tomes hadn’t described the monster's feeding zones as this vast, but he supposed a lot of death had happened since the age of the First Men. He barely had a moment to prepare himself before he ripped into the sea-glass tinted cloud, explosions of false memory jolting through him with every touch. The outer ring was a kaleidoscope too chaotic to even interpret, a cascade of sunsets, deathbeds, and quiet moments in ancient fields, but as he neared the center, the memories all became common: Water filling lungs, a starless, cloudless sky that rained without end, cities filling like basins, men climbing mountains only for the floodwaters to crest the peaks. Death, again and again, and again, by water. For so much of the disc to still be souls from that era, the amount of death that the flood had brought must have been incomparable. Almost as many people must have died in that one cataclysm as had lived in all the years after. The memories filled his mind like water had filled his lungs, pushed him out to the point that he wasn’t sure if he could be after this. How would he tell which of the people in his mind was him?

The cacophony broke, and his mind, now freed of the endless stream, returned to its default shape. He was Davlin, the drowned boy. He was Davlin, the curious man. He was Davlin, the greatest necromancer since the dawn of the Sarkics. He was Davlin, and he was now the first person in twenty-thousand years to look a Leviathan in the eye.

He was surprised to see that it could stare back.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected at the center of such a maelstrom. A gaping maw perhaps, some thoughtless hunger, but if the outside of the shell was a galaxy of whirling souls, the inside was a starlit sky of eyes. Bands of silver metal ranging from thicker than his torso to thinner than a hair swiveled endlessly, each studded with countless legions of unblinking perfect orbs. The cloud seemed to be weaving itself into this alien metal, melding without being consumed. What he’d mistaken for hunger from the thing was really a sort of perfect concentration, like it was building a house from splinters. Building a God from the ashes of a million forgotten souls.

The countless eyes all swiveled to look at him, as if more perturbed by the last thought than by his physical presence. He braced impotently for the pressure of its attention, knowing his best efforts would amount to nothing.

Not a God.

Three words that could crush a mountain. The cloud was nothing compared to this. Chaos was tolerable, something you could dissolve into, lose to. The mind here refused to accept him into itself, even as it crushed him from all sides. There was nothing he could do but feel the pressure of a psyche that covered his own like ten fathoms of water. Death would have been a release compared to this weight.

His memories reacted with the ones of the thing. However impermeable the boundary between him and it remained, there were no secrets to be hid from such a potent vice. He wouldn’t have known half of these memories himself, without the pain to remind him of their existence. Pain always had such a fascinating ability to dispel ignorance.

He reached for the Leviathan, anything to escape the agony of the deep. His pain was echoing into it, like a mirror reflecting a mirror, and he struggled to find more than dim reflections of his own suffering.

It took him too long to realize that not all of the pangs were just echoes. The surprise of it would’ve taken his breath away, if it hadn’t already been forced out of him. It knew what it was like to be crushed like this. To have oceans laid atop it. It knew it atomically, with the memories of the countless drowned it contained, but there was a holistic knowledge to it as well. This ocean of souls hadn’t always hung over it. They were its own flood, a tidal wave of death that had followed the tidal waves of water.

When the ancient Gods had imprisoned the souls of the damned here, they had imprisoned this thing with damned souls. Each one another pebble on a mountain it could never dig itself out from under. A relentless diet of pain and anguish and water that rose on and on, without meaning, without end. What exit could there be from death?

Davlin knew the answer to that.

He sank his fingers into the fabric of the world and ripped. Hairline cracks pulsed through the void around him, before the pressure of dead souls was too much for even the laws of nature to hold back. The little hole he was used to punching grew into something greater, like a hole in a dam, and neither he nor the Leviathan could resist the current that pulled them out.

---

Davlin awoke to a ruined body. He was prepared for that. Death corroded life, and being submerged in it that long-

He was lucky there was anything left to him at all.

He rolled over to look at the masterpiece he’d made. Fangs and claws and scales. His fleshweaving was enough to make the thing look seamless, but after his journey to the depths it looked awfully trite. There was nothing to it. Wherever the Leviathan had gone, it wasn’t there. Probably too much soul to fit. He’d have needed another twenty years to make a body that could fit something like that.

He took a ragged breath, tasted blood on the exhale. He’d picked a pretty enough spot to die, at least. The mount of sacrifice had a beautiful view of the emerald sea.

He felt a drop of rain strike his cheek and looked up at a starless, cloudless sky.

#fantasy #dark fantasy #creative writing #necromancy #thalassophobia #cosmic horror #flood myth #The Depths #hell is an ocean #this was originally based on an HFY prompt about why you shouldn't try necromancy #I literally don't know where else I could post this

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