#elden ring.

[vernades]

@izar-tarazed -- ;

The days seemed ever gloomy in the Church of Vows, but the work to restore the church itself was neverending. Beneath the perpetually cloudy sky, the sound of a single monk hefting stones in rows atop the crumbling foundations was complemented by the scraping of a metal scraper that applied and smoothed the mortar between layers.. The sound of rustling grass alerted Sypha to the presence of another, a traveler undoubtedly.

"Hello there. Are you interested in meeting Pastor Miriel, traveler?"

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

varre seems like he would be so good at edging you until you can't think, followed by a nice round of overstimulation

Meanwhile, he's also whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how much of a runt you are and how pathetic you look.

[witchblade]

so many different freaks in that game

[vernades]

@faithfcll​ -- ;

Limgrave was far from the cleric’s native Liurnia, but as the most peopled, it seemed the best way to contrive ways of amassing runes that could be utilized to one day restore the Church of Vows. Firelight flickered in the lee of a ruined cathedral, dancing light stripping the stone walls bare and chasing away the deep pall of night. Rest would come uneasily, surely, but it was better than naught. 

Provided some Black Knives weren’t afoot and prowling, it should’ve been possible. 

[vernades]

@a-bottomless-curse -- ;

The Shattering had changed the world, but people like Sypha hadn’t been around to see it. Some might consider it an odd thing to see a member of the Church of Vows whom still sported their Lazuli robes that so clearly indicated a member of Raya Lucaria, but it came as something of a comfort... even if the headdresses were utterly ridiculous and something out of a bad drama, Sypha thought. Light of the setting sun warmed the walls of the Church with hues of fire and gold, a breeze tugging through titian locks as Sypha obliviously played a flute, waiting for passersby who might hear of their Word... blasphemous to some it might be.

Noticing a presence further afield, from upon the rocky bluff the sorcerer perched did they wave. 

“Hail, traveler! Perhaps you might want to rest for awhile in our Church?”

[triakissemifasciata]

really annoying the amount of video games there is that kinda require internet even on their singleplayer modes. like STOP kicking me back to the main menu or desktop just because my connection dropped for a split second it's not even online...

[vernades]

weren't too often he stopped by the church of vows; ain't like miriel ever bought anything from him besides the occasional bit of choice herbs to munch on after all. figures the one time he does to cool his heels for the night would be the very one the old tortoise would actually have something worth doing, and for runes at that. even if it meant palling around with some sorcerer or some such. speaking of... soot eyes them a bit warily, puffing out a ring of smoke from his pipe with a sigh. "nothin' good can come from this. huntin' royal revenants ain't no small thing, 'specially when there's more'n one o'them..." a soot-stained finger tap-tap-taps the side of the pipe. "taking suggestions, i am."

"...Royal Revenants? I can only imagine how much trouble their toxins must be."

Perhaps it was fortunate that Sypha knew enough about warding and barrier spells to protect the Church of Vows as Liurnia wasn't without its struggles with the foes that skulked the fields and valleys. Let alone the vast, foggy forests of all that slowly sank into the Lake. Seated at the base of a column, a raised slab of stone protecting from the soggy chill of the loam, a fire pit occupied by a modest campfire that warmed away some of the clinging, watery chill that saturated the air. Though, Revenants sounded far more merciful than facing those afflicted with the Scarlet Rot, a malady that plagued the lands. Sypha had faced them a number of times in their quest to gradually rebuild the Church of Vows, gazing up at the luminous glow of the Erdtree that saturated The Lands Between in its perpetual glow. Clutching a stick, Sypha nudged the fire, a sputter of cinders unfurling into the damp air and floating mindlessly away on a drafty breeze.

"If you want to keep hunting them, you'll need Holy magicks. It's the only way to effectively face them. ...At the very least, you might avoid their poison more easily."