• Solo • Etherdeath

Seated on the shores of Lake Lovalus, Rharne serves as the home of the Lighting Knights, the Thunder Priestesses, and the Merchant's guild. This beautiful trade city is filled with a happy and contented people who rarely need an excuse to party.

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Yrmellyn Cole
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Joined: Sat Oct 01, 2016 9:09 pm
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Profession: Mage Painter
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Etherdeath

Thu Jul 11, 2019 6:24 pm

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Etherdeath
During The Fall of Emea 1st to 30th Ymiden 719

DIRGE
1st Ymiden



Yrmellyn's memory of the vision of The Fall of Emea

The vision before midnight had been like nothing else Yrmellyn had ever experienced before. She had woken up feeling like something had exploded with a loud bang in her head. At that moment she had seen ... the incredible. A bearded man had appeared. A mage, that had been obvious to her, thanks to her own insight in magic. He had walked over to a couple, a man and a woman, who had been laying there like innocent babies in deep sleep. For a moment he had stopped in his tracks and seemed to think, but it had been a brief stop. Almost immediately he had stepped forward and bent down over the sleeping man, ignoring the woman.

As a mage Yrmellyn had immediately understood what was going to happen. There had been something reckless and hungry in the way the man moved. It had made her think of a predator closing in on prey. Then he had done it. The flaying. Yrmellyn had felt like screaming but the vision had stunned her and paralyzed her. She had witnessed the whole act, in as much detail as the vision had shoved her. The ether had flowed from the flayed to the flayer, an invisible stream of the essence of dreams, magic and life. The sight of the delicious meal had ignited her own hunger. The force of it had overwhelmed her. She had felt like she would do anything, anything to get a drop of the ether and join in on the flaying. The bearded mage's voice had been so full of power. It had felt like hearing an immortal speak with he had announced his deed. “I have flayed Kielik and now I revel in his taste.”

And she had known who he was. Alistair Venora, Zvezdana’s brother, the heir to Venora as Yrmellyn recalled him. She had never known him but she had seen him long ago when she had visited the lady in her younger years. It had felt like looking at an old picture, from a world that was gone. She couldn’t even guess at why the lord had become a flayer.

At that moment, the vision had made it clear to her who the flayed man had been. It had been Keilik, the mortalborn of nightmares, insomnia and oblivion. It had also told her, without words, that the flaying had destroyed the duality of Emea. That had been what had kept it in balance. The whole dimension had begun to get unstable and wobble. But, it had still been held together by some kind of ...entity. Instead, what had torn it down had been the action of a second man. He had taken the opportunity to try and take the place of that ...entity ... and so, the entity had lost its grip on Emea and everything had crumbled and fallen down. Yrmellyn hadn’t known how long or short time it had taken. But she had seen the dimension of dreams and ether fade out and disappear. With it, her source of ether had disappeared.

To Yrmellyn it seemed like the world had lost its soul.
Last edited by Yrmellyn Cole on Sat Jul 13, 2019 3:17 pm, edited 3 times in total. word count: 555
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Yrmellyn Cole
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Posts: 577
Joined: Sat Oct 01, 2016 9:09 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Mage Painter
Renown: +56
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Re: Etherdeath, Deluge

Fri Jul 12, 2019 8:07 am

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Now it was after midnight and the 1st Ymiden arc 719 had begun. After a vision like that, it had been out of the question to try and sleep of course. She had never felt so awake in her whole life. A cup of tea had made her calm her down a bit, but going back to bed was not on her agenda. Instead, she was set on making a picture of that vision while it still was fresh in her memory.

After swallowing the tea too fast and burning her tongue a bit, she had rushed straight to the workbench. She had settled for making a drawing to get as much detail as possible into the pictures. The drawing would serve as a visual note and save every memory of the vision. If she would want to make a painting she could do it later.

Yrmellyn sketched at a pace she had never sketched before and soon she had created a series of pictures showing Alistair Venora as he approached the sleeping mortalborn of Emea, stopped to assess the situation, bent down, flayed Kielik and finally ... his face, as it had been at the moment his voice had rung out with immense power, telling the world what he had done.

Then she drew the instability, the unknown man dealing Emea the final blow and at last the downfall. She worked like obsessed. It all flowed through her like she was only a channel and a tool for the drawings she made. It was the same with the words she added in the margins. She wrote his name there, Lord Alistair Venora, But, she had no names at all for that other man and that “entity”.

When Yrmellyn finished working she had in total eight drawings. It occurred to her that an eight is the symbol for eternity and so, she named the series of drawings “The Eternal”. She had no idea where it came from, that idea, but it seemed appropriate.

After this, the flow of automatic expression of the vision ebbed out. Yrmellyn was no longer channelling. She didn't understand what had happened. to her. It seemed like the spark of domain magic itself had taken action to save this memory so it would never be forgotten, at least not by Yrmellyn Cole.

If her own memory would fade and if she would find herself unable to recall the details of what she had seen, she would see it in the drawings. Even if parts of it would be consigned to oblivion she would still have the drawings to tell her that it had happened.

She was as spent as if she had been running at high speed through the street all night long. Drained. It felt like all the ether still left to her, stored in her before the downfall, had flowed out as the blood flows out through an opened vein. She had poured it into the furious outbreak of obsessed drawing. And now it was over.

The magic ... wasn’t awake in her anymore. She could still discern the spark there though. At the moment it seemed to sleep like a baby. Yrmellyn wondered if it would remain that way, dormant, now when the ether that sustained it was gone. She had used the magic so seldom and been so cautious. But, now when she didn’t’ have it at her fingertips any longer she felt mentally amputated. It had been a more important part of her than she had known. Until now.

She wanted to think and analyze the situation, but her thoughts felt slow and her stamina felt low. It seemed so hard to sort everything out. A huge and crushing mental tiredness weighed her down. All she wanted was to sleep and recover after the drawing madness.


It was five in the morning. She lay down on the bed and collapsed.
Last edited by Yrmellyn Cole on Sat Jul 13, 2019 3:52 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 657
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Yrmellyn Cole
Approved Character
Posts: 577
Joined: Sat Oct 01, 2016 9:09 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Mage Painter
Renown: +56
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Wealth Tier: Tier 6
Medal count: 10

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Re: Etherdeath

Sat Jul 13, 2019 3:24 pm

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It was noon when she woke up again. Yrmellyn had slept for seven breaks so she should have felt refreshed, but she didn’t. Her body didn’t seem to want to leave the bed and her head ached. She didn’t want to get up. It seemed better to stay in the bed and pull the cover up over her head.

At first, she wondered if she was ill. But, as she didn’t seem to have a fever she forced her self to stumble up and face the new dreamless and ether-free world. Not that she wanted to do it. No. But, she knew that it was a must. Life must go on, even if she found everything lacklustre this day. It was hard to put words on exactly what she felt. Her mutated mind still intertwined all kinds of impressions. She felt that the world had lost its strong colours of life. Everything felt like an empty tavern the day after a festival has ended and the music and the song are gone. Dead, dreary and drab.

She browsed the drawings she had done. They looked surreal now. Watching the drawing of the man who flayed the nightmare lord she wondered who he was. She couldn't recall having seen him before the dream vision had etched his face into her memory. A stranger. But, then she read the note she had made. Alistair Venora. The name was as mysterious as the vision had been. She must have known it when she wrote it like she had known the details of his face. Now it was all an enigma. She didn't understand a thing, but she was going to keep the pictures.

Yrmellyn dressed and went down to have breakfast at the small tavern across the yard. It was as usual there. She ordered a strong black coffee, fresh bread, white cheese and honey. The waitress put it on her table and Yrmellyn paid. The girl was a long time acquaintance, for good and for bad. She was a great source of information, but also a rumour-spreader of high rank. Yrmellyn was a bit careful with that one, but she wanted to know ... had that vision been something only she had seen? She began the investigation by a casual question.

“How are you today? Slept well?”

The waitress shrugged.

“Tired. I had a nightmare about a vision. The weird thing is, more people seem to have woken up with nightmare visions. It’s the hottest topic of the gossip today. Nobody knows what it was about even, but a lot of people are trying to find out. You too?”

“I was up all night drawing,” said Yrmellyn who wanted to avoid to reveal too much. If other people didn’t recall much she was not going to rile them up by telling them about flaying. She had only wanted to find out if the thing she had seen were real. It seemed so. Now, she was going to shut up and pretend to not know anything more than the average citizen of Rharne.

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to appear to know even less. “ I had a lot of inspiration. I felt that it was best to use it while I could. Art kept me awake until the morning. I’ve slept until now.” She gave a low laugh and shrugged. “Can I have more bread, please? And more coffee? ”

The waitress smiled at the habits of the eccentric artist and went to fetch more bread and coffee. Yrmellyn still thought of the series of pictures she had drawn. They intrigued her to no end. "The Eternal". This seemed like another folder of artwork in the piles of artwork only she would care about. She created lots of that these days.

word count: 644
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