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| The Kumite Of The Falling Star Shinobis |
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Posted by: Saint - 03-31-2026, 02:28 AM - Forum: Events
- Replies (1)
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THE ISLE OF ERE
![[Image: M%C3%AAl%C3%A9e_Island.png?4dc694=&format=original]](https://seaofthieves.wiki.gg/images/M%C3%AAl%C3%A9e_Island.png?4dc694=&format=original)
The clan of the Falling star or the Nagareboshi have hosted their Kumite for nearly a century in the hidden mountainous island, Ere. A test of all ninja clans, close quarters combatants, spell slinging mages and everything in between. A tale of secret techniques, hidden magical styles and a showcase of specialist style magics as a celebration of combat, comradery and magic as a whole all swells in the Ilse of Ere for those who wish to learn more of the world around them. While the Kumite is rather small, only those versed in arts heae tales of the legendary battles that take place during these exchanges of culture and combat.A place to truly show your stuff! A place to really be someone in the world, and place to gain the secret scroll offered to those who prove themselves above all else against different styles across all of Eternia.
A place of joy, anguish, violence and merryment.
Welcome to the Falling Star Kumite!
Char name: Axren Quilldrake
Attendees: Caethir Friends! (3 total)
Risk: COD?
Themes: Secret Techniques, Tournament Arc Fun, Tag-Team battle
Discord: @Saintofl
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| FAITH SUMMERS BOOK REVIEW |
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Posted by: PostsforIncogs - 03-30-2026, 06:30 PM - Forum: Biographies
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Quote:The following text is an attempt at a book review by a girl called Faith Summers. Shall we give her a chance? She’s still getting to grips with the fact that different types of writing have their own conventions and tones. What’s more, it was written with a purple pen that smells strongly of strawberries. It was posted at the Goldleaf Library, with her ID picture hanging.
Book: What is the Meaning of Life? By Svengalf
Hi! So… I’ve read the book about Alacritas and that Lifestream thing, and like… wow, it’s a LOT to take in. But I’ll tell you about it in my own way, OK?
First off: I LOVED the beginning with the dragons. Who’d have thought? Seriously, three colourful ones and a grey one creating the universe through dance??? That’s just fashion. It gives a really magical and grand feeling, as if everything were a living painting. First of all, what about Nyssa weaving mana? It made me reflect on how the manual labour I was forced to do on the farm, like spinning silk threads, was really inferior to the work done in the capital. She took it upon herself to weave the mana that even flows through my being.
It made me want to weave something, although I found in the footnotes that the act of writing can be a way of remembering Nyssa. The ancients, for example, by embedding runes with her name, kept that memory alive.
I’m obsessed with this; I think I’ve found the form of loom that suits me best. A pen and paper.
Now, about Alacritas… She’s like… life itself in a silver dress. I thought that was beautiful. It’s not just ‘life’ in the sense of breathing, but something bigger, like movement, existence, everything happening at the same time. A bit hard to grasp sometimes (I admit), but you can sense it’s something very important. Check this out: Alacritas is the girl wearing the fabric Nyssa made, and the other dragons also worked on the Hues, cuts and fits. (FAB)
The Lifestream??? I was OBSESSED with the idea of the tree. Now… to be honest (because I really want this internship ??): Sometimes the text gets a bit… heavy. Like, lots of explanations in a row, you know? I had to stop and think several times. Maybe breaking it up more or giving simpler examples would help the reader.
But there are things I found really beautiful, like:
the idea of the soul returning to the cycle made me think that, obviously, the radiance of someone like a chic princess from a sunny kingdom would return, and perhaps one day she could be reincarnated alongside her great love.
Life and Death not being enemies (that’s classy and mature.)
And above all: the idea that simply existing is already something important.
When I came here, I thought less of my existence, but now I’m going to take even better care of my body and my mind.
Now… Hel ? Look, I didn’t like her (which is good, right? A villain has to be annoying). But I found it chic that she represents despair and corruption; it provides a stark contrast to the beauty of the rest. Who hasn’t had an ugly friend to hang out with to make us feel more beautiful? After doing a quick search, though, I see despair is an important constant in her own right, but I still don’t understand enough to discuss it properly.
On humans… I LOVED this part. Being powerful but also vulnerable… and receiving emotions as a gift??? That’s so sweet. It sort of says: feeling is already a form of protection. That’s truly beautiful. As a Faeborne I wonder how the saying goes for me, for I am even more emotional thanks to Nemea.
And the ending… Such good vibes – “be kind, smile, enjoy life” ?? It might seem simple, but it works.
Faith Summers’ Summary
✨ Strengths:
Amazing visuals (dragons, tree, energy… perfect)Beautiful ideas about life, the soul and the cycleEmotions as a source of strength → LOVED IT
? Areas for improvement:
Some parts are hard to grasp quicklyText is sometimes too explanatory and lacks… “feeling in the skin”
Final rating
9/10 ✨
Faith Summers: Faeborne, 17 Years, Amarylis district 2216AC
[Message from the Player: Her bad writting is IC]
[For a incog post, reach out at forum messages]
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| Greywatch Conspiracy |
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Posted by: Aphelion - 03-30-2026, 12:15 AM - Forum: In Character
- No Replies
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A Confluence of Courts
Quote:"Some sort of meeting took place at that tower the grey nobleman owns. Pretty sure I saw people walking out in two groups, a few folks I knew and a few I didn't. Seems the Eisande family might be up to something..." - An Arcadian townswoman, shortly after being paid off
The rumormill states that Aphelion, Nadir, and Murielazelle Eisande have hosted some form of gathering at the Greywatch, with its members having sworn some form of oath together. The identities of most participants appear to be secret, but some cursory investigation indicates some kind of papertrail linking Aphelion Eisande to one "Quicksilver Court". Whispers speak as well of a "Winter Court", potentially connected to Nemean influences.
Quote:"These organizations exist. My uncle is the sponsor. If you've a righteous cause and you need some help, feel free to write us a letter. Report moral threats. Cheers!"
Aphelion informs a Quill representative, before proceeding to answer zero questions about any relevant details.
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| A Letter to No One |
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Posted by: ??? - 03-29-2026, 04:21 PM - Forum: Biographies
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They call me dangerous.
I know this because I make it my business to know what people say when they think I'm not listening, and I am always listening. In Arcadia they whisper about the banker from Speira who wants to kill their gods. In Myridia, it is questioned whether I'm a friend or foe.
Dangerous... It's a funny word. It implies something unpredictable, something feral, something that bites without warning, but I have never bitten anyone without warning. I always warn them, with a smile, a handshake, with very clear terms laid out in very clear language. If they choose not to read the fine print, well... that's literacy.
I understand why they say it. A man who stands in the middle of Meranthe and says that gods are unnecessary is not making a philosophical argument, he is a threat to the system . Every temple, every altar, every prayer whispered into clasped hands, every war fought over whose deity is taller, all of it runs on one product alone... Faith. And faith is only valuable as long as no one offers an alternative.
I am the alternative.
High-Master of Speira... I say the title sometimes when I'm alone just to hear how it sounds in an empty room. It sounds heavier than it looks on paper, it sounds like something that was built for a bigger man with broader shoulders, a louder voice, or something powerful and ancient. Instead it landed on me, a young man in a nice coat with a missing finger and a cat on his shoulder.
The pawn that became a king, people like that kind of story. They like the poetry of it, the underdog narrative, the idea that anyone can rise if they're clever and stubborn enough, and also willing to bleed in the right places at the right times. What they don't tell you about the promotion is that the king doesn't get to stop moving. The pawn crosses the board one square at a time, patient, invisible, forgettable... but the king? He sits in the center of everything, every eye on the board turns to him.
I miss being forgettable, I won't pretend otherwise.
There is something in my blood that would make all of this easier, I feel it at night when the camp goes quiet and Clause curls up on the desk, when the candle burns low and I'm the last thing still awake on this thing I'm trying to build a nation on. It hums, faintly, like a door vibrating in its frame, waiting for me to reach for the handle
But I won't.
I have said this before and I will say it as many times as it takes until the words weigh more than the temptation. The entire point of what I'm building, the reason I exist, is to prove that mankind does not need divine power to stand anymore. If I opened that door, if I reached into whatever was buried inside me, pulled it out, used it against those who oppose me... Then every word I've ever spoken about freedom and self-reliance becomes a performance. A lie told by a man who preached independence while leaning on the very thing he told others to reject. In other words, I would be like them, a hypocrite.
Some nights, it weighs me more than usual, I wonder if principle and stubbornness are the same thing, would I have found myself bleeding the beach, facing Aphelion, if I gave in? If I called upon the same power he did?
I wonder, and it matters. It has to matter, otherwise what am I doing here? Can I destroy them without it?
The people I watch over don't know this about me. They see the smile, the plans, they hear the words I say and believe me because I make it easy to, because that's what I do best. I make difficult things sound easy, and impossible things sound inevitable. But in the gap between words, I am the man who sits alone in his room, wondering if I am building a nation... Or a monument to my own own loneliness.
Ce'Acatl fought and lost. I watched her fall with a smile on her face, as if she knew she gave everything and accepted it wasn't enough. I threw myself between her and Seneschal in hopes to save her, but was ultimately defeated, still too green, still not able to contend with the higher powers... But I got back up, because I always get back up. That's not bravery... That's just the only option available to someone who never had anyone to fall back on, man's greatest gift, endurance.
The people of Speira, they rely on me now. I have answers for them because I always do, answers are the one currency I've never run out of, but underneath the answers, I find asking myself...
Is this enough?
Am I enough?
Without the door, without what lays dormant in my blood, without the divinity I refuse to touch... Is the man, just a man, enough to deliver on his promise?
I don't know and I'm not sure if I will... But I will keep going because stopping is not something I learned how to do. You don't learn how to stop when there was never anyone to catch you, you keep moving, one square at a time forward... Always forward, the greatest lesson Ilumitar has ever taught me.
The candle is low and Clause is asleep, the island is quiet and somewhere across the water, on the mainland, people in temples are praying to gods who will not answer. I am sitting here in the dark, writing to no one about a mission that will probably kill me... But I am at peace with that.
I was never supposed to be here, none of this was supposed to happen, the pawn was supposed to be sacrificed three moves into the game and forgotten by move five. And yet here I sit... With the crown I didn't ask for, with a cause I can't put down, and that door I won't open, as well as a past I haven't told anyone about yet.
Maybe I will, someday, shen the candle is a little lower and the night is a little longer and I run out of reasons to keep it buried.
Another lonely night, if I survive the morrow.
- Vendal
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| The Eve of Shattered Chains |
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Posted by: Metrice - 03-29-2026, 05:25 AM - Forum: In Character
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![[Image: Ohun-s-Freedom.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/QxMhcCxt/Ohun-s-Freedom.jpg)
The Eve of Shattered Chains.
Year: 2216
A murmur carried upon the wind fell to all that might hear, it was soft, subtle, yet one brimming with awe. To the small folk it manifested as little more than a pleasant memory, draping upon waking thought. As if they were sinking into a favored dream. One that would brighten their normalcy, if only for a day.
To the magi, it took on a disparate form. Shaping into meaningfully interpreted mutterings for their mind's eye. An eve of Galaen splendor was soon to transpire, one that would echo unto eternity; towards Her Fate-woven tapestry of immeasurable beauty.
Something of import was soon to transpire within Nightview's sands, the purpose of which was left unspoken. The utterance did not gift clarity, only curiosity unto any and all that might wish to savor the majesties to come.
Quote:"Liberation is at hand: after six decades passing, the weary bite of stinging chains begin to fade. Drifting off into the ether, shattered and splintered as they clatter from our souls. Let us then embrace the light anew, see it glow in iridescent splendor.
Beauty made to manifest in wondrous fashion.
Come all who would see this occasion, to see this deliverance, and rejoice. For our Night Mother's light beams upon us, shone in brilliant peace."
Such was the echoes of Aethereal wonderment that came upon the evening's zephyr, calling to all that might heed the invitation. To some it would be familiar, to others it would only echo of curiosities left unknown. Memories to be savored, to be treasured.
The eve was soon to transpire, hanging just beyond the horizon. Those that might follow the whispers knew where the rite was to be sequestered.
They need only make the journey, to embrace its wonders.
OOC: This will transpire in NightView on Tuesday March 31st, at 8:00 PM EST.
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| Foundations Wrought of Devotion |
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Posted by: ShiroKirishiki - 03-29-2026, 12:11 AM - Forum: Public Events
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The caverns beneath Arcadia stir, the tranquil stillness of the stone paths adorned with the presence of a new order.
The Apostles of Mydaea move in the shadowed hollows, some of the Remnant of Viritas seen with them.
Upon the hill overlooking the Gerbera District finds several visitors' steps whispering through its grass.
Several projects have been commissioned by the Curator of Souls. This is one of them.
Quote:A tower will be constructed by permission of the Duchess of Arcadia, Camellia Aubreen.
A place of worship, community, and sanctuary for those of the Arts.
And to those that would follow the Apostles in the era soon to dawn.
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Upon its foundations, we shall grant wishes, hopes, and dreams.
Bring them to me, and I shall paint them upon the stones.
For it is those hopes of humanity that will serve as the foundation for Her future.
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Her story will be told. A tale of tragedy and bitterness.
The story of a Fallen Angel which wanted the best for humanity.
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Come and bear witness. Behold the first ground broken for a new order.
I offer you an opportunity to help shape the path of one once shadowed.
One that now would now bathe the world in Her light, soon to come.
Date: Monday 3/30/26
Time: 3 PM EST
Place: Cavern below Arcadia, Gerbera District
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| From Dusk Unto Dawn |
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Posted by: ShiroKirishiki - 03-28-2026, 09:49 PM - Forum: Public Events
- Replies (2)
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Quote:For years after Her transformation was complete, She slept.
No longer.
Yet... She awakens not to what was lost.
She awakens to what may yet be loved.
In the silent upheaval that followed, in the fragile stillness that echoed sacrifice and severance, Her Grace has stirred once more.
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She awakens not as the Angel of Art returned, nor the Fallen Angel bound in chains, but something new.
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A voice soft and curious has reached across the veil of facsimile that once held her.
The incarnation of Mydaea speaks, listens... and feels.
In that simple, miraculous truth:
The Apostles are given purpose once more.
In preparation for this moment, the Remnant of Viritas has labored in Silence and reverence.
Sanctuaries are reshaped to stand atop the echoes of ruin, marking them as lessons instead of holy.
Relics once bathed in memory of ruins and woe have been stilled, their purpose redefined.
The Shades of Viritas have moved unseen, carrying word only to those who would understand the weight of what crests the horizon.
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At the heart of it all, the Curator of Souls listens.
She listens to the sound of a playful child, discovering the world slowly from within her cradle.
She listens not to what Mydaea was...
but what she may become.
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For this was not a resurrection.
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This was a beginning.
A ritual is called, proclaimed by the Apostles. A collective offering to this new existence.
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Unlike before, this ritual will not command the shape of others or paint streets red with divine suffering...
it will be one of devotion.
It will be one of hope.
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Those that gather will offer their prayers. Their dreams, their wishes, their quiet and unspoken hopes.
Not to define Her Grace, but to nurture the path that she may walk.
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What kind of goddess will she become?
What kindness will she learn?
What strength will she carry?
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The answers will not be demanded...
Only offered.
All who have walked alongside the Apostles, their allies and mentors are welcome to take part.
Those that stand beyond, yet feel the pull of something greater? You are bid to come and bear witness.
Witness of the first light of something new.
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The Rite will be held soon.
When dusk settles, as the world holds its breath,
we will begin.
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And together...
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We will carry her into dawn.
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Page of Pastiche |
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Posted by: faecy - 03-28-2026, 04:34 PM - Forum: In Character
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"That'un fairy-feller's crazy-lookin', even fer' a fae."
•
"Yeah, he looks crazy, alright! Did you see all of his creepy tattoos?
Spiders, flies, skulls... and those symbols too, what do you think they might mean?"
•
"He owns a storefront that sells letters in Dal'Thala I think, and for almost two years' rent each!
I wonder if anyone's bought any?
I overheard him asking around about, um- well, leaves, I guess..?"
Hearsay is carried along the roads about a certain fairy seeking the assistance of adept druids, nature and sound magi, experienced wayfarers, and curious wordsmiths! Cryptic flyers are passed around between merchants, traveling caravans, and caught roadside in the branches of trees.
The tree is like the soul.
Rooted in the source from which it springs, it simultaneously reaches out and within; branching towards the sky and through the soil.
In this, we can see the progenitor of languages spoken throughout the forest and seasons, and before they are heard. Have you ever heard a tree conversing with another tree? They are always whispering, it takes time, a quiet eye, and a nearsighted ear to properly observe. Its rings attest to these long-kept records, documenting all that a tree is given to carry between its taproot and trunk.
▪︎
The leaf is like the spirit.
A palm and finger are bestowed with prints, like a head and body sprouts hair. So do leaves from branches, in kind.
They shoot forth in Spring to usher the three stages upon which they perform;
they fruit according to their proximity to the Summer to couple their seeds into the next year;
they redden before falling to feed the earth and its four living kingdoms with Autumn;
and the tree slumbers through the Winter.
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Allusion, or to play thereof comprehension and commonality, is born of the intertextuality within pastiche - and is the trunk which language branches, the proverbial figure of speech.
▪︎
Contact Daphnis, the fairy, at New Mavethkar or write to him to learn more!
What ideas could such a fairy be carrying up his sleeves?
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PM or contact via letter to arrange a scene!
°
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![[Image: 31e8d866-f6ac-4c39-8313-623282f9966e.jpg]](https://imgcdn.stablediffusionweb.com/2024/12/13/31e8d866-f6ac-4c39-8313-623282f9966e.jpg)
![[Image: 0739946ae3521d5053e6474be01db12a.jpg]](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/07/39/94/0739946ae3521d5053e6474be01db12a.jpg)
![[Image: a29a39b598b8.png]](https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/a29a39b598b8.png)
![[Image: Forum-Version.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/hPwWx0YD/Forum-Version.png)
![[Image: 9cb725eef34c.jpg]](https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/9cb725eef34c.jpg)
![[Image: 4014a1d611a5.jpg]](https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/4014a1d611a5.jpg)
![[Image: ?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.getyourtarotreading...4608c0b6d6]](https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.getyourtarotreading.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2018%2F05%2Fpage-of-wands-Meaning-of-this-card-in-a-tarot-Reading.jpg&f=1&nofb=1&ipt=4364db68fef27084f26a6497025496461116ad819c5f52c254774a4608c0b6d6)
