Quark
In Crypt Dead Member
Necromaster Ov Disaster
STATUS: So sick. 1/2 hour just felt like eternity in torment. Goingtoseeadocsoon. Please use healing crystals or pray for me or whatever it is you do. Anyone. Please. I need all the help I can get. Or death. 6 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 6 yrs ago
- Posts: 19 (0.01 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- In Crypt Dead 6 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
So sick. 1/2 hour just felt like eternity in torment. Goingtoseeadocsoon. Please use healing crystals or pray for me or whatever it is you do. Anyone. Please. I need all the help I can get. Or death.
2
likes
6 yrs ago
We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future. We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone. But how far away that future may be, there is no knowing.
1
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6 yrs ago
To die, to sleep – to sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there's the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come...
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6 yrs ago
And with strange aeons even death may die...
4
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Bio
Hello! I am [human name]!
And I like [standard human preference]!
But sometimes I think [less common human idea].
Is that weird? Or does thinking it's going to be perceived as weird just make me more normal?
[cute emoji]
And I like [standard human preference]!
But sometimes I think [less common human idea].
Is that weird? Or does thinking it's going to be perceived as weird just make me more normal?
[cute emoji]
Most Recent Posts
I am slowly and slothfully working on sloth.
Cardinal
I may have an interest in this. Maybe after I get some coffee I will get a CS together.
No Zat Guns or Staff Weapons available to the SG teams?
Roam
Thank you, kind stranger.
Bardic
[Deciding to follow the dark paranormal calling and enter the charnel house, you are greeted by a single sarcophagus and silence. All is plain stone. Perhaps it once bore intricate carvings but the passage of centuries has worn away all evidence of such a thing.
Slowly, the lid of the sarcophagus is lifted and dragged to one side by someone or something within. A vibrating echo of wind against rotted bone seems to gather into the wretched mockery of a human voice.]
Fear not my visage, mortal. Far worse lurks beyond the veil of death. And indeed you are lucky that it is only a lich which greets you.
[Fingerbones emerge from the black abyss of shadow within the ancient stone box, lifting it's restless tenant into full view. A skeleton in spiked golden armor, and wrapped in tattered and rotting gold and lilac colored silks. It's eye sockets seem to glow with faint blueish-green shimmerings. And it is crowned with a ceremonial headdress that makes it look like it has four curving golden horns sweeping back like a halo of yellow fire.
The undead creature assesses you even as you take in it's own form. It seems to regard you curiously. As if you are not who it expected to see. Then comes once more that horrid semblance of a voice from it's long dead mouth.]
Alas, I must nurture the magics which have brought me forth in order to preserve my form. Necromancy is taxing, you see. Even more so when you do it from the other side.
It is not so bad though. As I have many options.
I could gorge myself upon the spirits of the wicked. Joining with a band of adventurers could easily supply me with a veritable feast of dark souls to devour at my leisure.
I could drink up the mana of emotion and drama. By joining in with the dance of the living, I could play the long game of slowly absorbing the ethereal shadows of passion, angst, fear, satisfaction, wrath, and desire.
Perhaps I could utilize the unstable flow of time in certain forbidden places, thrusting myself into a reflection of a possible future and tapping into the cosmic energies thus revealed.
Do you have any suggestions, dear visitor?
Slowly, the lid of the sarcophagus is lifted and dragged to one side by someone or something within. A vibrating echo of wind against rotted bone seems to gather into the wretched mockery of a human voice.]
Fear not my visage, mortal. Far worse lurks beyond the veil of death. And indeed you are lucky that it is only a lich which greets you.
[Fingerbones emerge from the black abyss of shadow within the ancient stone box, lifting it's restless tenant into full view. A skeleton in spiked golden armor, and wrapped in tattered and rotting gold and lilac colored silks. It's eye sockets seem to glow with faint blueish-green shimmerings. And it is crowned with a ceremonial headdress that makes it look like it has four curving golden horns sweeping back like a halo of yellow fire.
The undead creature assesses you even as you take in it's own form. It seems to regard you curiously. As if you are not who it expected to see. Then comes once more that horrid semblance of a voice from it's long dead mouth.]
Alas, I must nurture the magics which have brought me forth in order to preserve my form. Necromancy is taxing, you see. Even more so when you do it from the other side.
It is not so bad though. As I have many options.
I could gorge myself upon the spirits of the wicked. Joining with a band of adventurers could easily supply me with a veritable feast of dark souls to devour at my leisure.
I could drink up the mana of emotion and drama. By joining in with the dance of the living, I could play the long game of slowly absorbing the ethereal shadows of passion, angst, fear, satisfaction, wrath, and desire.
Perhaps I could utilize the unstable flow of time in certain forbidden places, thrusting myself into a reflection of a possible future and tapping into the cosmic energies thus revealed.
Do you have any suggestions, dear visitor?
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