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Messages - SkagHunter

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Notices and Bulletins / Re: The Wonders of the Velvet Wedding
« on: July 08, 2020, 08:57:53 PM »
Jouvander Don Vindascas

Supervisors Yelena and Aleksandr,

I am told I will be toiling within some 'carnival' event though i do not know why i have been chosen for this.  If the outcome of  this is of concern to you, additional supplies for toil are requested.


Correspondence / Re: Recondite
« on: May 24, 2020, 11:06:42 PM »
Things are wished of the Knaves. Maybe you can help us.


Best halfling pc running

Correspondence / [A sewer-smelling letter to Thesputin]
« on: February 12, 2020, 03:35:18 AM »
We should speak when you have the time for it.


Screen Shots & Obituaries / Re: Kallus FUCKIN' Vor
« on: February 05, 2020, 11:56:35 AM »
You forgot to leave a groat behind, didn't you?

Well played, otherwise would duo again.

Screen Shots & Obituaries / Re: Visimar Stormchild
« on: January 18, 2020, 05:26:04 PM »
Amazingly influential character who defined Sepitus' life from closest ally to nemesis- and the course of the server for a good portion of his life. Enjoyed watching and having an impact on his arc. Can't wait for your next.

Screen Shots & Obituaries / Telak Vyte
« on: January 06, 2020, 05:54:41 AM »
I'll be making a thread for Telak, Akthos and Amonkas shortly, as I finally can be assed to look up their screenshots.

I made Telak as a Tchunite to explore the religion and just get back into the swing of things after Akthos. And went with the flow from there.


He joined the butchers at one point, thinking he'd find kindred spirits. And found motley company.

He betrayed and was betrayed in turn by Krown over one of the Serpent's gems.




A door told him to kill people (Or so he thought). Voices from the Mad God

A heroic figure, dissapointed by a blood relative's choice of allies.

Not even other Tchunites were safe.

He hunted down an Arbiter and killed him, after a few encounters...

A long chat.


Fell rituals

The death of a changeling at an Inquisitor's hand.

Someone burned down the Courthouse. He was not pleased.

After receiving his 5th circle relic, he became a little scary

Telak with his freshly annointed helm of blood

Telak near the end with one of his oddest allies. The Aasimar Virgil

Sadly I don't have logs of the brawl that got him mobbed, or his death at the hands of the Arbiters.


Screen Shots & Obituaries / Sepitus Grail
« on: January 06, 2020, 04:51:32 AM »
Sepitus started out as a cursed man, vaguely inspired by the Tomb Colonists from Fallen London, with a Curse thrown in that would demand him make enemies allies, and constantly be amidst risk and conflict to survive. He started off as a simple sellsword and duelist, and well, quickly went from there. Ending up as a Knave, Assassin, and much more.

Can't have a thread for Sepitus without thanking Cat, Stranger, and Lannister, as well as a few others who shan't be named at this time. They're probably the majority of the moments here, and I can't thank them enough for the fun.

Props to DM Ironside, Abala, Vlaid, Halfbrood and a score others for all the amazing interactions among the DM team.

This shot sums him up well.

Screenshots, in rough order.

Young Sepitus with some of the people who would be most influential throughout his life, summoning and slaying a Slave of the Sibilant.

Again, a number of important people, who he might have even considered friends at one point, before betraying horribly.

Runes of fireball are fun, kids. Especially when you blow up your own team.

Travelling with Merredith, Visimar and Acathos, frequently. At this point there was a Demonic plague coming about- from some Blackguard named Virgil.

The same Virgil he hunted down and almost caught alone in the Mongrelwoods as many hunted her. He extorted her for all she was worth, and then as soon as he left, pointed others right at her. This was one of the moments that let up to him becoming a Knave

An interesting figure...

Induction into the mysterious order of Knaves.

Travelling with his good friends even more. All over.

Meetings and deals with an odd fellow. The beginning of a long and strained friendship.

Slip ups from Merredith as her marriage to Visimar approached.

Conspiring with his Mercenary Company

Merredith Winespill was one of the kindest souls Sepitus ever met.

Besting trials with friends and allies, for pay this time.

Another great interaction. He meant to follow through, too-

But due to him, that day never came.

MANYWORM (The aftermath of the introduction of a certain druid faction...)

He made some more interesting friends. Though the relationships grew further strained, by fell deeds.

Fell deeds scarce go unrewarded. (See loot section.)

He fought in quiet a few dispensaries. And they were key to his greatest assassination, and also poetically, his end.

He ventured with Annette Winespill occasionally. The woman who would eventually kill him. She could be a bit odd.

He wasn't always paid for murder. Sometimes just delivering some innocent mail.

In the employ of fell powers he enabled terrible and gratuitous deeds, looking on with little a care besides a good fight and a fair amount of groat.

For those same fell employers, quite a reaction started up...

Though the Gnomish Sibilant Slaver eventually died before he could get a new batch, and he though it better to discard the rest he'd not gotten around to with lack of further pay.


A strange ritual in a strange plane.

More Visimar discussion and so on.

A failed murder came with grand and painful consequences.

Even still, Merredith was always there. (As was Visimar, and Acathos.)

Beseeching the Good Abbot.

One last deal before the greatest of betrayals.

Scheming. Before or after... perhaps both.

You do NOT fuck with the Adamantine Vault and get away with it. Lots of text here in spoiler.


Swashbuckler could be fun- When it worked and didn't hamstring you.

Employing new techniques, the King was able to prevent one ringrunner from retreating for hours on end, until a brilliant man with a charm animal scroll showed up.

The assassination of one of his closest friends, Merredith Winespill- As decreed by Old Grandfather.

Sepitus worked alot with Jeor. And also was hired by alot of people. ALOT of people to go after the Arbiters at one point or another.

He did always pay his debts, though....

A cross (and buggy) planar chicken.

He ended up killing a few people. This one offered to him as a reward for service- and to sustain his cursed and dying form without the magics of Melkoth, Acathos, Hawthorne or the score of other dark mages that offered him succor at one point or another.

Stalking about under Knave guise, he witnessed and caused a fair  few interesting things.

Ever get the feeling someone's watching you?

He was claimed to be a cold hearted killer by some.

And then he finally got caught, at a dispensary no less. A poetic end from a poetic... poet?




What you all know you want to see- LOOT

Purchased from a certain someone in a similar line of work after one of the few grand heists the Knaves pulled.

The Red Queen's Kiss
A beautiful and potent blade that Sepitus wore proudly and openly for a good portion of his life. After all his wizardly allies were dead or betrayed, it was one of the few means he had of staving off the curse that was consuming him.

Santa has a thing for Knaves?



See you on the next!

Bug Reports / Grand Fissure exploreable & 'Stone Monster' EQA
« on: November 29, 2019, 06:41:37 AM »
One of the exploreables has a very large elemental, and a series of crystals. The reward for this is 'earthen relics' which were all empty. Likewise in the Stone Monster EQA, all of the loot placeables titled 'Earthen Relics' were broken, and the boss seemed terribly weak. Unsure if the last part is a bug.

Bug Reports / Re: Alchemy broken, themes not activating
« on: October 24, 2019, 08:07:31 PM »
Seems to include summoning themes as well. I used a tome, and that worked, but a summoning reagent (Mongrel Bone Totem) was not giving me anything

Journals and Musings / Calling & Rite
« on: October 24, 2019, 01:11:45 AM »
It is as if a dam has burst. The nightmares no longer trickle and swirl through my sleep, they flood, they overwhelm.

I am standing in a darkened chamber, an altar of an outstretched giant's hand wrought of ice and bone stands before me, stained thick and dark as wine in past profane offering. I am surrounded on all sides by figures, cowled and chanting all. Their heads are holes, dark as their souls, though for some, motes and pinpricks of light shine through. An imperious, horrific cruelty here, an icy pale malice there, the desperate, bloodshot of a fellow afflicted thence.

The chanting swells and grows as the wind howls through the chamber, ever present. Though this time it is not laughing at me. It is not mocking me. It's scorn is directed at that which lays atop the altar. A bearded man, his bare chest bruised and purpled from some trauma, though it does not look as a beating or flaying might. His arms and legs and bent at wrong angles, the bone sharp and jagged as the winds where it pierces out, glimmering wetly before it vanishes, already joining with the glacial altar.

I step closer and raise my frigid arms. There is a sound at first like a tinkling, and then a great creak and crack as all six of the limbs move. Four are tipped with wicked talons, of the same bone and crimson ice as the altar. Two seem almost as they once were, though have taken a blue and blackish hue, withered by frost, though coursing with the power and profanity that now resides in me. I am Telak Vyte no more. I am something else.

The chanting swells and crests, and I can hear it now. NECROPHANT. NECROPHANT. NECROPHANT. NECROPHANT. NECROPHANT.

There is a dagger in one of my human hands. Curved and grooved, covered with ruins that make the eye water, and devouring the light it touches. A ghostly pale aura and fathomless malice and chill.

The man says something, though it is drowned out by the chanting. NECROPHANT. NECROPHANT. NECROPHANT. I know it to be defiance, as all of his brothers will show, even when their end comes. Even when it is their time to aid in the formation of the Grand design. In cracking the prison infinitesimally further open.

With sickening ease I carve his heart from my chest. It practically flys into my outstretched and waiting hand and sticks there, frozen solid. I lift it to my lips and sink crystalline incisors into the frozen organ...

And then I am trapped, fathoms deep in pitch blackness, frozen and enraged at my predicament, choking upon the ice. And then hundreds wake... the unassuming, the monster, the defiant, gasping and clutching their throats, choking for breath, and then I wake, clutching my throat, gasping and crying and choking for breath with a thick frost coating my beard and rime upon my lips, and I am the shell of a man once more, with the oily, sickening seed of something else slowly blooming within me.

Journals and Musings / The Thing Inside the Cat. Nightmare Log 1
« on: October 22, 2019, 01:43:07 AM »
I have neglected this for too long. If I am to be dragged screaming into this madness and horror, the least that may be done is sharing it with the rest of you wretched lot.

I dreamed I was back within my home. Thick rugs covered the floors, and the cobbles were chill and slick with condensation. A fire burned merrily in the hearth besides me, and I reclined upon a comfortable, worn chair. I could not see out the windows, for it was late into the gloaming hour.  I heard a noise, out of place like a rusted blade being drawn across flesh and turned with a start.

In the doorway stood a cat. Or perhaps a thing pretending to be a cat. It looked no different than any other alley cat that would roam the city. Sleek. Dark. Perhaps a touch mangy. It turned to regard me with typical indolent feline languidity, and I noticed that it's eyes were not as a cat should have, and instead were endless holes through which something else that did not belong and very much took delight in my suffering watched.

As is the way with nightmares, there was a shift, as if the titan upon who's shoulder's this nightmare rested had shrugged in it's glacial trappings. The fire died, the windows became naught but jagged panes of broken ice, doing nothing to stop the sudden vehement wind and it's unending tirade of howling laughter and whispered atrocities.

It smiled at me, and a voice spoke, though it was far deeper than should come from such a thing of it's size. It spoke of how it would enjoy destroying me, dragging me down and down a hellish spiral. And then it began stalking towards me, as a feline is want to do, and I found myself unable to move, frozen in place.

It climbed up into my lap, a scent heavy of fouled blood and feculent rot growing stronger, and then it took a single paw and extruded it's talons, and dragged them across my neck, and it was as if something much greater and much more terrible had done so, my head practically thrown clean of my shoulders and a torrent of gore and bile spilled forth onto the floor.

I dreamed I was in the same chair, the same creature assailing me, speaking of the atrocities that It would commit, that I would commit. Carving me in spirit and dream-flesh as a skilled butcher or inquisitor might, the agony and duration increasing each time.

Seconds passed. Minutes passed. Hours passed. Days passed, though the darkness never lifted. Weeks passed. Months passed. Years passed. Decades, Centuries, Millennia, Aeons passed.
Until finally, my hand broke from my own glacial prison and took hold of the thing, and I swung it down upon the cobbles with such vicious, glorious freedom. Again. And Again. And Again, and again... until there was naught left of either of us but smears of gore and ruin.

And then it laughed that bone-grating avalanche of a laugh again, for it had won still. For when I woke, I knew what I must do.

And then my eyes opened.

Journals and Musings / Numb
« on: October 22, 2019, 01:18:52 AM »
I woke to a world gone cold, my beard and lips frosted, my fingers and limbs numb with the chill. The fire had died in the hearth and each window had been tossed open with great force, shattered against the walls of our home to allow the raging blizzard in. My beloved, and my children were nowhere to be found, though I was given a grisly surprise... a trail of blood led from the room of my children, not one of them past ten winters.

I gathered my mace and set out into the storm, the wind HOWLING and MOCKING all the while. The words spoken in my dream- no, Nightmare returned, again and again thrown at me by biting, knife-like gales of ice and spite, whispered just within earshot, or perhaps I had gone mad... who is to say really. I continued on for what felt like aeons, and knew I would not be returning whole. My extremities grew numb, and then painfully warm, and then once more into a final numbness I knew they would never recover from, though little did I care. I followed that crimson streak through the storm as it burned it's way into my mind. A single streak of crimson across and endless plain of snow and ice and rock... a giant's hand covered in the gore of a fallen god's heart protruding like a monolith from the ice...

Eventually I found her. I found them. She had become demented, maddened with whatever sickness had taken her mind. She whispered and screamed and sang in time to the howling, taunting winds... as she sewed together the corpses of our children. I cannot recall if my anger warmed me, amidst this frigid hellscape, or if my heart had already frozen over, but I do recall wrapping my lifeless, blackening hands about her throat, and squeezing the life from her, the only recompense to this atrocity. She did not even fight me, cackling and HOWLING with laughter and curses as the copper wedding band ripped the skin from her throat with it's glacial chill. I watched as the light faded from her eyes, though I cannot recall for the life of me what color they might have been... all I saw then, and now is that same pit as in my nightmare, endless and full of malevolence.

As her corpse fell to the snow, the abomination in-front of her rose. The fruit of decades of love and toil, rising upon eight limbs and turning two sets of burning, blue eyes upon me. It moved quicker than anything so terribly constructed should, and raked needle-sharp fingers through my flesh while razored bone spurs protruding at all angles and nightmarish fangs shredded my left arm. But I had fought similar wretches before, and it soon fled before my mace, and the growing hatred that had overtaken what once held all that was good, faith, love, hope, joy, all tasting of copper and ash within my mouth. I tracked the wretch with single-minded determination, back to my home. Even as my veins pumped crimson ichor into the snow, until it too froze over, and my fingers and limbs grew ever colder I stumbled on. Eventually I returned home, and cornered the thing. It was dashed, both it's skulls split and dripping from the thick rugs of the house back out into the storm. A lamp or torch had fallen free during our struggle, for all that remained of what was once my home burned, thick, oily smoke rising only to be hauled away by the cackling winds... and I too had paid the price for my Pyrrhic victory, my left leg shattered at the kneecap in a single blow by the unholy strength of a thing no bigger than a man, all together. I had dragged myself away from the flames, further into the ice and cold to watch and to die. I felt the life seeping from me, dripping across the shards of bone and ravaged meat spread across the ice, the searing, though quickly dulling pain. I closed my eyes...

And woke.

Journals and Musings / Unraveling
« on: October 22, 2019, 12:48:25 AM »
I think I dreamed then, the first of many to come. I saw  a titanic hand thrust from endless, crimson ice, a lake of steaming blood pooling in it's withered, clawed hands. Something awaited me in the center, as the winds whipped and howled all around. My beloved, her enrapturing, gem-like eyes gone, replaced by endless pits, her loving, kind smile replaced by something savage and cruel. She took me in her arms when I reached her, her fingers bloodied, the sanguine stench of the lake entirely overwhelming... and she spoke and told me all that was to come. All that must be done, until I woke, screaming for breath and sanity.

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