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@theartofmadeline
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@swcrdstellaris
Character Page Updated!
Ancient Dragon Lansseax
[Credit: https://twitter.com/MoKa_norin5]
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Fh_FrKbU6zqyo0jt9-2j9ew5FiUbo7DKYu-D5BRQNUQ/
Praetor Rykard
[Credit: https://slavonicrhapsody.tumblr.com/post/701295955769704449/rykards-style-evolution-bonus]
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1soM-JGo9q9umXaXDpGiwrOF3nnQL9D5B1HUpmgVLhOU/
O/C Tarnished: Katarn
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rbvMY-QpJmwWTW9H7sTEZzzeIE5BVrB_Qy-1qogEWR8/
Mostly moved my Elden Ring things over to discord. There's this small but tightly knit server that could use more characters... and my DM is always open(#frankthetank0427).
A revamped Katarn, Lansseax and Rykard are there and still open ')
Lansseax revered the storms, and relished in them. Divine powers of the Great One calls out to her own, lightnings charge her conductive scales, and great currents of gust propel her, far mightier than any wings. Storms remind her of a long-lost home.
But as another one rolled over Altus raining down hails and torrential rain, the ancient dragon found no solace in it. The Order’s power is waning, she could sense it in the very air; extrinsic forces have now bypassed its domain, manifesting as more violent weather even beneath the Erdtree’s shroud. She knows what happens when chaos takes rein, and dreads it more than anything else.
Still, Lansseax could not suppress a mild grin as familiar footsteps approached the hill she was perched on. How could she? The human race has proven time and time again their resilience amid the harshest trials, their ability to remain pure of heart that sometimes puts the beastmen to shame. And this Knight was a testimonial of that belief.
Her voice was like grating stone limned with a deep growl, unfit for human speech in her natural form, but as soft as can be when she replied to his casual remark, pushing her own looming thoughts back. “-And Greetings to you as well, Ser Vyke. Thou art soaking. Come under my wings should your human shell not wish to have a stormy fever on the morrow.”
@lrdvyke
Storms in the Altus Plateau are a strange sort of thing to Vyke. The rain gentle, while the lightning becomes far crueler than anywhere else in the Lands Between. It strikes the ground, burning it and yet no flames erupt. The grass, golden and healthy, is just as lush as the greener grasses down below in the lakes. Where one expects wheat, or dry coarseness below feet, they find flowers of another sort, opening to the Erdtree's light that allows for these rains to pass. Yet ... as beautiful as it all sounds, Vyke still felt like he swam in his armor to get to where Lansseax now lay.
❛ Ah, ye of little faith, I am not as fragile as that, ❜ Vyke teases then, yet it is in good-nature with a laugh as his steps quicken underneath the rather large span of the dragon's white-gold wings. There, he takes off his helmet and pushes stray strands of wet, silver hair out of his face. ❛ But thank you, all the same. It seems that I have yet to master telling which storm I may safely travel in, or which storm I may have to sit out for the day. ❜ A sort of wishful thinking. Nothing within these lands became easy to sort the longer he stays within its borders. Instead, it seems quite the opposite happens, much to his dismay.
His hands tipped his helmet, letting the water that collected therein to pour out to the ground. It is only then that he looks upon Lansseax, a smile is a permanent fixture upon pallid features. Never did he think to find a friend—no, something far more special yet unnamed, in one like her. Still, he is content now, as he ever is within her presence. A recurrence he desires not to sully.
❛ The rocks, down by the church in the south, prove my ill luck for the day, ❜ he says as he settles, a point of his thumb over his shoulder to denote where. ❛ Annoyingly enough. Fell upon my seal and broke it. ❜ It is then that he took the gravel stone seal from his pouch, the stone chipped and broken in half. A worrying sight, to him at least. ❛ I'll have Master Hewg fix it, but today is perhaps not one of my best. I hope yours has been better, at least? ❜
A huff escaped the great dragon’s nostril. Humans, ever frail, and naive, and seeking undue attention. He should be on duty, on his destined relentless quest to mend what was broken in his world, as all honorable Tarnished warriors shall endeavour to do. Yet he was fooling around in muddy fields in a poorly concealed attempt to disrupt her meditation.
Lansseax should be annoyed. She could have scolded the knight and sent him on his way, bodily, with a mere flap of her hurricane force wings. But she did not; she could not bring herself to mind. A privilege not even granted to the loyal beasts of Farum Azula, handed out without a second thought. This can’t be right, but nonetheless felt so. Unhelpful to resolve her confusion, a piece of memory resurfaced. “Your heart may be stone, my friends,” she remembered a blond demigod once said, “But they sure are warm and beating still.”
Her wings extended as if with a will of their own, covering Vyke in their shadows - and away from all the raging wind and raindrops outside. Even the rolling thunders became quiet and muffled. In a true dragon’s premise, even nature itself shall back off and grant them peace.
“So, imagine mine surprise upon seeing mine best Knight,” Her eyes narrowed, but no malice was there. “Tripping over thyself and ruining yet another gift few mortal would ever lay hands on, not a single further step towards Lordship for another wallowing day...” Bringing forth one claw and casually plucking her side, another scale was peeled off and flicked to the knight. “There. Have thy misbegotten polish this one as well. Thou hast claimed more than even fiery Fortissax in his youth.”
Surely, if a small part of her power could aid him in his travels, a few scales are not a big price to pay at all.
@lrdvyke
Lansseax revered the storms, and relished in them. Divine powers of the Great One calls out to her own, lightnings charge her conductive scales, and great currents of gust propel her, far mightier than any wings. Storms remind her of a long-lost home.
But as another one rolled over Altus raining down hails and torrential rain, the ancient dragon found no solace in it. The Order’s power is waning, she could sense it in the very air; extrinsic forces have now bypassed its domain, manifesting as more violent weather even beneath the Erdtree’s shroud. She knows what happens when chaos takes rein, and dreads it more than anything else.
Still, Lansseax could not suppress a mild grin as familiar footsteps approached the hill she was perched on. How could she? The human race has proven time and time again their resilience amid the harshest trials, their ability to remain pure of heart that sometimes puts the beastmen to shame. And this Knight was a testimonial of that belief.
Her voice was like grating stone limned with a deep growl, unfit for human speech in her natural form, but as soft as can be when she replied to his casual remark, pushing her own looming thoughts back. “-And Greetings to you as well, Ser Vyke. Thou art soaking. Come under my wings should your human shell not wish to have a stormy fever on the morrow.”
@lrdvyke
fellmoondoll:
The tepid anger of the Lunar Princes had dissipated slightly, feeling no need to get riled up at her older brother. Instead, the young woman pressed scarlet lips into a thin line - letting her expression tell him she wasn’t amused at his recent comings and goings.
" I can ask him myself. “ She mused, they both knowing full well Radahn would happily do what his younger sister would ask of him. Her shoulders fell slightly, an almost defeated look fluttering over her visage, at the mention of their mother once more.
” She seems to lose herself more each day - ever since that man left her to rot. “ Ranni scoffed, placing her hands on her hips as she regarded her brother once more. ” If you love our mother, you need to be here for her, Rykard. Though it is heartbreaking to see her in such a state, our Mother cannot stand to lose any of us. “ The murmured ramblings of her mother had drawn the young princess to that conclusion.
"Mother has no consort. Mother needs no consort." Almost volcanic rage shone dangerously behind the young man's sharp, sunken eyes, sheer venomous contempt unbefitting one of his age. Something their Queen Mother never approved of, but in her current state, Rykard's flares of violent streak only worsened. The sad excuse of a man, their devout lapdog of a father who sits even now on the Elden Throne... needs to pay. It was power their house solely lacked, Rykard concluded long ago at that fateful night, when the Order reclaimed Radagon at a moment's notice, utterly breaking both Caria's honor and the Queen's heart. But he made no other visble move. Not for Ranni, never for Ranni. "I would leave her to no one else, Ranni. Be rest assured. But we both know mere sorrow was not what fueled mother's dementia and hallucinations. So out there I was, seeking answers in the darker corners of knowledge the Golden Order would not trend..." Letting out a sigh, he took off the heavy cloak he was wearing, and let his unkept hair from days of tireless work flow downwards freely. "But there're other news I must share with you, Ranni. My contacts in Leyndell reported they've proclaimed us demigods; emissary is on the way. Me and Radahn, along with your rightful Empyrean title - whatever that does under our Eternal Divine Majesty." The last words a hiss through gritted teeth.
@fellmoondoll
fellmoondoll:
Rykard chuckled darkly, but his eyes bore no humor. How he wished those who dwells behind the high walls of Leyndell were simple, power-drunk lunatics. That, he could at least relate.
No, what irks him was the calculative ambition of Marika’s divine regime. Five centuries into its uncontended reign, the Golden Order was still hellbent on snuffing out any and all who remotely disturbs its absolute perfection. “You know exactly what. It’s not an act of familial love. We are to be the Order’s lapdogs, have it breathe down our necks day and night.”
Rykard’s brow furrowed with these words. An insult, maybe, but with the new demigod stature, Lord Paramount Rykard shall wield influence Prince Rykard of Caria could never have obtained...
Ranni’s mild, but unmistakable accusation snapped him out of his brief trance. Of all people, Ranni now lectures him on the dangers of dark magic. “Have you grown soft in these idle years, sister? Have you not heard of how Mother’s moonlight disintegrated the flesh of her adversaries? What draws the distinction between dark and light?”
Dipping his head, Rykard gently took his sleeve out of Ranni’s grip. That outburst might be uncalled for, but Ranni would understand. She always does.
“When I could not attend to Mother, I promise I’ll assign countermeasures to guard her in my stead. Be assured whatever I did, I did them out of necessity. One cannot walk this path unprepared to sin.”
@fellmoondoll
The Second Prince of Caria was a rebellious one. That's a fact known throughout Caria Manor, and none save the tranquil fury of Queen Rennala could keep the boy in line - many had tried, and many had failed.
Now, it seems the Queen's miniature version in all but hair color had managed the impossible.
"Down the dungeon, testing out- never mind. Shall we keep that between you and me, little sister? I'll send Radahn to crack some prawns for you." The young Prince managed a tight smile at the thunderous expression of his little sister; but Ranni would be far too shrewd to fall prey to mere bribery, that he knew.
"How is mother doing today, anyways? With or without me, I sense she grows weary by the day." Their Queen Mother was deteriorating slowly but truly, both body and soul. There's something more than mere sickness at play, he was certain of it, yet Rykard could not pinpoint the cause. It was infuriating, and he hated being left in the dark.
@fellmoondoll
fellmoondoll:
The tepid anger of the Lunar Princes had dissipated slightly, feeling no need to get riled up at her older brother. Instead, the young woman pressed scarlet lips into a thin line - letting her expression tell him she wasn’t amused at his recent comings and goings.
" I can ask him myself. “ She mused, they both knowing full well Radahn would happily do what his younger sister would ask of him. Her shoulders fell slightly, an almost defeated look fluttering over her visage, at the mention of their mother once more.
” She seems to lose herself more each day - ever since that man left her to rot. “ Ranni scoffed, placing her hands on her hips as she regarded her brother once more. ” If you love our mother, you need to be here for her, Rykard. Though it is heartbreaking to see her in such a state, our Mother cannot stand to lose any of us. “ The murmured ramblings of her mother had drawn the young princess to that conclusion.
"Mother has no consort. Mother needs no consort." Almost volcanic rage shone dangerously behind the young man's sharp, sunken eyes, sheer venomous contempt unbefitting one of his age. Something their Queen Mother never approved of, but in her current state, Rykard's flares of violent streak only worsened. The sad excuse of a man, their devout lapdog of a father who sits even now on the Elden Throne... needs to pay. It was power their house solely lacked, Rykard concluded long ago at that fateful night, when the Order reclaimed Radagon at a moment's notice, utterly breaking both Caria's honor and the Queen's heart. But he made no other visble move. Not for Ranni, never for Ranni. "I would leave her to no one else, Ranni. Be rest assured. But we both know mere sorrow was not what fueled mother's dementia and hallucinations. So out there I was, seeking answers in the darker corners of knowledge the Golden Order would not trend..." Letting out a sigh, he took off the heavy cloak he was wearing, and let his unkept hair from days of tireless work flow downwards freely. "But there're other news I must share with you, Ranni. My contacts in Leyndell reported they've proclaimed us demigods; emissary is on the way. Me and Radahn, along with your rightful Empyrean title - whatever that does under our Eternal Divine Majesty." The last words a hiss through gritted teeth.
@fellmoondoll
@swcrdstellaris has come Home
" Where have you been? You had mother worried sick. " The young woman huffed, crossing her arms over her chest - staring up at her brother with a narrowed gaze. Despite their age, Ranni still took to attending to their mother matron.
The Second Prince of Caria was a rebellious one. That's a fact known throughout Caria Manor, and none save the tranquil fury of Queen Rennala could keep the boy in line - many had tried, and many had failed.
Now, it seems the Queen's miniature version in all but hair color had managed the impossible.
"Down the dungeon, testing out- never mind. Shall we keep that between you and me, little sister? I'll send Radahn to crack some prawns for you." The young Prince managed a tight smile at the thunderous expression of his little sister; but Ranni would be far too shrewd to fall prey to mere bribery, that he knew.
"How is mother doing today, anyways? With or without me, I sense she grows weary by the day." Their Queen Mother was deteriorating slowly but truly, both body and soul. There's something more than mere sickness at play, he was certain of it, yet Rykard could not pinpoint the cause. It was infuriating, and he hated being left in the dark.
@fellmoondoll
ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴛᴀʀɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ…ʀᴇꜱᴛ ʙʏ ᴛʜʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ
• Ranni the Witch of Elden Ring • Semi-Selective • Mutuals Only • NSFW / Dark Themes ; 18+
some ER chara avatars I drew
Part 4~
why aren’t we playing together yet?
❓ i just got started, and i don’t know how to approach you
😳 i’m very shy
🙈 i was meaning to approach you but i forgor ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
💡 i still haven’t found any good idea to start interacting
📚 i still haven’t found any good prompt to start interacting
👶 first meetings threads aren’t my forte
🍼 my muse is an OC related to yours and i don’t know how to approach you with this
🧍 my muse is an OC very close to yours and i don’t know how to approach you with this
⛔ our muses aren’t compatable
💗 i ship our muses but i feel awkward asking
🤢 i’m full of threads right now, but in the future i want to
⚽ i’m very busy with life right now, but in the future i want to
🙅♀️ i’m just lurking tbh
🔔 we interact with other blog(s), but i don’t know how to get started with this one
📴 we do interact but i’m currently very busy
🛏️ we do interact but i currently have no muse
🗿 we do interact but i’m currently in another RPC
📶 we do interact and i want more threads with you actually!
😘 pspsps hey want to plot?
😚 pspsps hey what’s your prompts tag?
😗 pspsps hey want my prompts tag?
Here’s the thing with tumblr: i really can’t be bothered to do all that html editing to organize my pages… and communication with partners can be really hard and inefficient.
If anyone wish to do so, DM me for my discord, maybe.
Fromsoft you glorious bastards
https://twitter.com/eldenring/status/1630478058103734274?s=46&t=s8bVTyB3I_B3KbPOddMfRg
Starter for: @swcrdstellaris
The Elden Lord Radagon, leal hound of the Golden Order, and second husband to Marika the Eternal. Night fell unto Leyndell as autumn consumed summer. The black of night and twinkling stars overtook the blue sky and clouds.
He was alone, currently. Wandering the halls of Leyndell's marvelous castle was a blessing, in of itself. But.. Nothing can fill the hole in his heart. This hollow, yearning sadness which holds him at all hours of the day.
Divorced from his first wife Rennala, and seperated from their three beautiful children. Radahn, Rykard, and Ranni. He misses them all. They all were symbols of his pride and joy. All things he loved.. All the things he lost, along the way.
What of them now? He wonders, silently. There's not been a smile on his face for some time, and yet, Marika still plans on creating a child with him. It disgusts him.. That she had no consideration for him. But.. The call of the Greater Will heeds him, which beckoned him back here. How he wishes.. The times were simpler again.
The red haired Radagon sighs, arms behind his back, head lowered as he merely wanders. Only thoughts of his family haunt his mind, but his heart remain empty, and hollow.
At the very foot of the Erdtree, Marika the Eternal erected a city of grandeur and order. From across the Lands Between, beings beckoned by the epicenter of all that is golden gather here in reverence of its divine beauty. Hail the Queen Eternal and Elden Lord Radagon, they said, long may they reign, for that was what always had been, and would surely continue to be.
But those with keener eyes and sharper memories could see through this deceiving facade. Rykard found himself wandering Leyndell’s golden halls alone, twirling his many rings as he examined the overly intricate stonework. The stench of putrid bodies from beneath sewer lids, ever so subtle, did not escape his notice. For all the harshness of Gelmir, Rykard was sure the Capital had even more skeletons within its own foundation. How unsurprising.
His company from the Manor was left at the lower wards of Leyndell, for this affair was for him and him alone. Him and his siblings, descendants of the Lunar Lineage, were to be granted the title of demigod upon the Lord’s ascension-and on the morrow, Rykard shall be known as Lord Paramount of Gelmir, Warden Demigod and Praetor of the Golden Dynasty, and be granted a seat in a court he despised with his whole being, alongside allies and bitter foes alike. The time for transgression had not yet come, but he was patient. He will become irreplaceable, delivering the Queen’s justice and retribution while adding in his own twists. By being its chief enforcer, he shall deconstruct the Golden Order piece by piece; and when the stars forspeak a chance, the seeds he planted will sprout into deathly serpents.
It was then an awfully familiar cascade of crimson hair and royal blue snapped the Judicator out of his trance. Rykard narrowed his eyes. Of all the unwelcome figures… but such an encounter was inevitable from the second a Lord’s Emissary dared to stain his doorstep. The messenger met an unfortunate end on their way to Volcano Manor-wild beasts and stray bandits, Rykard’s own bannerman had paid condolences before the Lord. Yet the Lord never took hints.
“To whom do I owe the honor… Lord Radagon?” Slowly, he spoke, making sure to articulate every word precisely and callously.
@runeofgold
the-gift-cf-grace:
Ah– there she was! How could he ever mistake the beat of those gigantic wings, as his head turned skywards to spot Lansseax beginning her descent towards him, and a smile cracked on his usually stoic, some daresay stern expression. Indeed, he was known as a most brutally efficient knight of the Golden Order, as ruthless as he was merciful, just like his idolatry figure Godwyn. But his feelings would ever betray that stern outer shell of his whenever his beloved dragon was near.
And so, as she gently descended down to land before him, the shaking of the ground was still there, but manageable for the knight. Steadying himself, he’d let her approach first, as he’d then reach to pull the gauntlet of his right hand off. “Aye, they dids’t grant me pass. But you know as well as I do… nothing could keep me from thee.”
As his right hand was disrobed, he’d slowly reach it upward, towards Lansseax’s cheek, as fleshy skin touched upon rocky-scale hide, and gave it an affectionate caress. “My great, wonderful Lansseax…” he mumbles, his emotional locks slowly loosening as his knightly façade faded, to be replaced with just Vyke, his cheek soon leaning to press against hers. “How I’ve missed thee.”
He always missed her. No matter how long they’d be apart, even for as short as an evening! There was just this… bond between them. One he’d dare not break. Slowly pushing himself off of her, letting her have her space, he’d find a suitable rocky outcrop to sit himself onto, looking up at the towering beast with a wide smile. “And how fare thee, mine fair lady?” he’d chuckle a bit, teasing Lansseax a little with a wry smirk. He knew how much she preferred her true self over her human priestess guise, but he loved to tease and remark over how pretty she was, regardless of form. “Hopefully thou hast not been too bored as of late. I, for one, have been drowning in politics lately… not a knightly duty, if thou'st would ask me personally.”
@swcrdstellaris
https://www.tumblr.com/hodomu85/709310954866884608/night-walk
(Inspired by this picture!)
It was such an unusual sight, for a mortal to approach her true form with neither fear nor reverence. But with her Knight, everything felt only natural. Since when did Vyke become something more to her than a charming disciple or a devout believer in need of enlightenment and guidance? Lansseax could not tell, but a tender part of her heart welcomed the change. (“Don’t bother denying it, dear sister,” Fortissax once cackled with delight when she huffed smoke at him in annoyance. “Our kind’s hide may be stone, but our heart sure is not.”)
The she-dragon found herself instinctively leaning into the knight’s touch, a rumble bordering on a purr rose from her chest cavity. It has been so long indeed, even if they had parted ways not a fortnight ago at the Decdus Lift. “And I thee, Vyke.” Her lips parted in a contented grin, revealing razor-sharp teeth. Her Knight would not be deterred by that predatory sight, she was certain. Nor was she a mindless beast out for blood whenever easy prey presented itself.
Pulling away gently, Lansseax settled on her haunches, and cast her gaze across the landscape of Altus Plateau. “I was… worn,” The dragon grumbled quietly, letting out a puff of hot air. “Th're is a storm brewing, untouched, unseen, but potent. I fear a shadow hast casted itself onto the city as we speak; fear and doubt neither I nor Lord Godwyn couldst not quell groweth in thy people’s minds. Descendants of Hoarah Loux calleth for their ancestral heirloom, and that serpent of a Praetor …”
By the Blazes. Lansseax shook her head. She had not come out to commune with her trusted companion only to drown him in her tumultuous thoughts. But upon once again feeling his comforting hand upon her cheek, Lansseax decided to cast away burdens of the day for the sake of Vyke, if only for a little while.
Lowering her wing, the dragon nudged at him to climb on. What they were about to do was surely a violation of many laws within the city both earthly and divine, but never had a dragon needed to abide by them in the first place.
“Shalt we, mine Knight?”
@the-gift-cf-grace
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The Church of Vows is a literate, thread-based roleplay server dedicated to FromSoftware's Elden Ring.
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