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EchoMirage's Profile

Our Author's latest news and articles.

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EchoMirage - Social Profile

- High Lord Scribe of Mastered Illuminations

For Next Level: 23475xp of 74645xp complete.
23475xp

Hall of Honour

114 HoH

Golden

5 Golden

Quests

12 Quests
- RANDOM
Items | 110xp

Child-Eyed Fluffy

Another scary child's toy...

- RANDOM
NPCs | 375xp

Belsethra, the Mother of Sin

An evil that nurtures evil, a dark mother that is cradle to shadow.

- RANDOM
NPCs | 180xp

Ser Myartan diNor

Honor beyond death, duty beyond the grave. An eternity of damnation for an eternity of servitude.

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Guilds
“ A tribe of barbarians appear wearing necklaces of bear claws and great cloaks of brown fur. They are physically much larger than normal humans, much stronger, and shrug of the most vicious of wounds. They call themselves the Aklak after their totem spirit. - From the Inuit word for Grizzly Bear”
Scrasamax
“ Earrings are said to give the sailor better sight. The pulse center for the eyes is through the earlobe.”
Strolen
“ Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat. Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the 'Ash-Wind' comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.”
Murometz
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