Age of Frost RP Trailer Teaser Thing ❄️

main rp here

Deep in the far north, a man was going insane. With each frigid breath he took, his mind spiraled further and further down into the depths of irreality, surrounded by his own hallucinations conjured by his sick mind. He clawed at his skin, ignoring the atmosphere around him. Through it all, he heard the whispers.

“You know what you need to do.”

No, no he didn’t, he didn’t think so, did he? Who could tell? What was happening? Who was he?

His leather boots scraped through the thick snow with each step, through the storm of ice that engulfed him. He had lost his coat a while back, the last vestige of warmth he had left. There was no turning back.

“I have given you the power to seize your birthright, your destiny.”

He could almost see it now.

He couldn’t remember. The cold blinded his mind. Tainted his soul.

He was hungry, wasn’t he? So very hungry.

Never again.

He stood at an edge, at a stony cliff overlooking the frozen sea. A drop from this height would easily kill a person.

He stood at the edge of his destiny.

“You know. Do it. Do what you were born to accomplish. Become what you were meant to be.”

He stood at the precipice of fate, and took a step forward.

And fell.

And the world was never the same.

Deep in the mountains, King Shikea of Vysokiy sat on his throne, tapping the armrest of his throne impatiently. He lived in a castle located on the lower steppes of the Urysas, that had begun construction under his father’s rule. While it was undoubtedly a child’s dream, it was an astronomically stupid decision, if Shikea said so himself. The logistics and costs for building a castle was a nightmare. The only saving grace was that his father hadn’t built the castle at the top of the Urysas, even the crackpot advisors his father surrounded himself with thought that was a terrible idea.

Shikea took a deep breath as the doors to his chamber opened, letting in another damned petitioner, here to pester him over issues he had no control over, most likely about the famine in Ravenna. It was all the fault of his father, overextending himself and claiming dominion over the northeastern lands instead of being happy with what he had. It was all the fault of the peasants, who couldn’t, for the life of them, farm for their own food. He had little choice than to let them starve, Shikea had few supplies for his own native people, let alone the barbaric and uncivilized people of Ravenna.

Petitioner after petitioner entered his hall, asking him to solve problems he had little control over, hour after hour. After all was said and done, and only one petitioner was left, Shikea was dead tired. He had no doubt that this one would ask him to hold the sun in place or change the weather, or something like that. Indeed, that was exactly what happened. A Ravennan peasant (He had specifically reminded the guards not to let a filthy Ravennan in. They would have to be executed, no doubt.) had come in to whine about the winter and the weather, and beg for food, like he had any to spare. Shikea leaned back and sighed. This was going to be a long year.

The Fatebreaker leaned against the rocky wall of the cave they found themself in, awaiting his fate. They had grown quite bored of murdering and marauding across the countryside, covered in blood and guts. Plus, they had no intention of becoming like the Godseer. The Fatebreaker might be insane, but not schizophrenic. Or was he? It didn’t really matter to him.

The sounds of footsteps approaching reached the Fatebreaker’s non-existent ears. They tilted their head slightly, and stood back up, turning his back to the entrance of the cavern. Inside were a number of skeletons and rusting bronze weapons, a cave belonging to some bandits in the years of the Alammar Empire. Oh, how they missed those days, when killing was still such a fresh concept. Now, it was all so awfully dull. You can only murder so many people before it begins to be a drag.

Snapping out of the recesses of their mind, the Fatebreaker turned their head slightly, spotting who had come. It was an Emissary of Cyrotix. An interesting one, with a mildly interesting fate. The Emissary had come to seal the Fatebreaker, an interesting goal, probably so Cyrotix could have bragging rights to the rest of the Ancient Gods.

“Well then. On with it. I don’t have all day. Oh, I suppose I do. You don’t have that period of time.”

The Fatebreaker twirled back into the stone throne at the back of the cave, sitting down in his best ominous pose, for those who would unseal him some seven centuries later. The Emissary, who didn’t have a name yet, (but would in about two hours) raised his icy and skeletal hand, summoning a staggering amount of mana, enough to lay waste to armies. Perhaps that was a hyperbole, but no one really cared.

The temperature around the cave in the Urysas dropped by dozens of degrees in seconds, ice and snow forming on the ground and around the Fatebreaker, who quickly dropped his defenses so he could be frozen. As the ice formed around the Fatebraker, they stared directly into the lifeless eyes of the Emissary. As the ice began to reach around their neck, he began to laugh and laugh until he was frozen still, an afterimage in time. Such an interesting fate indeed.

The Maiden sat back on her lunar seat on Fengari, staring at Tylien. An insignificant world, blue and green, floating against the pitch black backdrop of space. Sometimes she still wondered why the gods were so invested in this rock. But it didn’t matter. If it was their will, then she would follow it faithfully to the last letter.

Pausing to take a sip of tea, she mused. It was so very boring here. Being stuck on the moon is usually boring. The only real entertainment she had for the past few millennia was when the “Chosen” blew themselves into smithereens, completely invalidating her very sacrifice here. But the gods had commanded her to stay and keep up the barrier, so she did. And then the hairless monkeys had conquered fire and spread across the continent as a plague, so she figured she still had some semblance of a purpose, according to what little scraps of information she was fed by the gods. But they said it, and so she believed it.

The Maiden took another sip of tea, and stared at Tylien. Apparently Cyrotix was up to something. Pyrofalitc wouldn’t be pleased, she had no doubt of that. The Maiden sighed into her tea. It would be terribly disappointing if these humans blew themselves up too. Then again, maybe the fireworks of such an extinction would be memorable.

link to lore

This seems friggin awesome dude.

*cracks knuckles* I am excited for a little tomfoolery.

We are so back. We love you dead!

thank you my adoring fans, now I just have to think up a plot for the rp!

Imma say it.

Can we level up this session?

Can we level up this session?

Can we level up this session?

Can we level up this session?

Can we level up this session-

each time you ask for a level up I'm going to level down your character

What if I want to roll a 0 every time?

Why think of a plot when I'll treat this like a Rockstar game and do whatever I want or die trying?

hehe time to rejoin the got dead rps

* @Raphael has joined the server *

Oh, I'm here now :]

chat do i post the main thread and the cs today or later

today

okay

Later