Due to inactivity by other parties, those players have been removed. Three more may now apply in their place to join in the mystery. A brief synopsis has been provided and thus far only a few major decisions have been undertaken.
The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 4 yrs ago- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 3754 (0.99 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- The Harbinger of Ferocity 10 yrs ago
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4 yrs ago
Current
Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
5 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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5 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
5 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
6 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.
Bio
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten
I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.
My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.
Most Recent Posts
The other players have been removed, as they have not responded. As such, for the time being it is left to you both, @Pyromaniacwolf, @DocRock. That is at least until the if and when others are found.
@DocRock
"While there is no knowing just what the rest of the text entails for now, a strange quirk draws your eyes from the pages you are reading. Perhaps it really is madness gnawing at you still, as your brief interlude of lucidity strikes you with the reality that all of these books, barring the one you hold open in your palm, are clearly damaged beyond legibility. Did you truly pick the only one that survived at all or had it been fated that way? The how and why is already gone from you, as ashes begin to land upon the page. Brushing them off, you snap your prize shut and secure the bleached leather..."
Chapter I
"Upon the sunny shore of your prison, do you begin to browse the apocrypha that your fate has granted you. Through the first few pages you discover that the words and imagery are all very strange in themselves, much like the others you dared browse in passing earlier. Whereas those others filled you in this weary time with a variety of emotions, as you hope this book soothes your soul. Sadly, for all your efforts, you cannot make out the text's meaning, at least not in this moment, but it is a bright point of light to see such terrific and truly awing imagery of what appears to only be paradise. What a contrast this moment is in relation to the darkest of darkness that threatened to swallow you whole.""While there is no knowing just what the rest of the text entails for now, a strange quirk draws your eyes from the pages you are reading. Perhaps it really is madness gnawing at you still, as your brief interlude of lucidity strikes you with the reality that all of these books, barring the one you hold open in your palm, are clearly damaged beyond legibility. Did you truly pick the only one that survived at all or had it been fated that way? The how and why is already gone from you, as ashes begin to land upon the page. Brushing them off, you snap your prize shut and secure the bleached leather..."
That is unfortunate to hear, @Gunther, although looking at it even slightly in positive light is well received. Best fortune to you in what comes next, whatever you wish to do in and with it. For the time being, I believe busying yourself with relief from duties while browsing for the next, if any, would be in order.
As for some random fact, I am none fond of or friend to loud noises.
As for some random fact, I am none fond of or friend to loud noises.
If we aren't intent on killing them here and then now, is it a motion to now end combat in that case? Seeing as no one is any longer set to actively attacking them anymore and no members are in combat with them, other than Orchid ritualistically carving himself as all other attacks are held, are there any objections?
Players who have not announced their intent to continue by the coming of this next week will be removed. More than enough time has been provided in each case for them to make themselves known.
@Polybius @Dark Light @Pyromaniacwolf @DocRock @Voltus_Ventus
"Setting it aside, you curiously hover over the next piece to select. Opting for the simplest of answers in this confusing time, you draw out the vanilla leather, its bleached surface much like the island's. Thumbing through it, it appears encrypted as well, although it too appears to have a decipherable meaning; was it truly a work of a holyman, a journal of some priest?"
Chapter I
"Curling your fingers once more, you overcome the lingering doubt and draw up first the red book as it sat nearest to you in its wooden coffin. Flipping through its pages, one knee kissed to the sands of the shore, you discover it is a manual of fighting men. While written in a seemingly incomprehensible script, vivid yet somehow simplistic sketches of men at arms remain.""Setting it aside, you curiously hover over the next piece to select. Opting for the simplest of answers in this confusing time, you draw out the vanilla leather, its bleached surface much like the island's. Thumbing through it, it appears encrypted as well, although it too appears to have a decipherable meaning; was it truly a work of a holyman, a journal of some priest?"
As well and as often as I sleep, the slightest thing can rouse me from slumber. In many ways this has been advantageous, predicting events before I am cognizant of them while still left to the unconscious, but it does indeed become a chore when the concern is unneeded, say for something inconsequential or trivial.
The problem is, is that they are all making noise, which they were likely to do the moment the kobols went there and combat carried with them. So we probably should kill them as expediently as possible by cornering them and massacring the scaled things.
It has been my experience that as much as sleep is rest in the place of dreams, that my life does not seemingly end here or there. I cannot count how many lives lived or how much time has been spent in the slumbering world, going so far as to live and die again. It is this continuous cycle lived vicariously, where at times I see these distant places through others or I myself through the true self. Amusingly, some of these things are aware of my presence and become hostile to me, leaving me to wonder just how it is that they know I as an unseen spectre do not belong; how they see through the illusion. Perhaps this is why I enjoy sleep as it is another life in itself.
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