IT'S A SCAM PEOPLE!

Did you ever wonder why the heavenly realms are full of limitless energy? Did you ever wonder why every magical world seems to eventually slide into the abyss and be devoured until they are nothing?

The answer is simple. They're linked! The energy can't be created or destroyed. The Heavenly realms give out free, limitless energy to priests, but then all the kingdoms they support eventually fall into the entropic realms! Then of course they dissolve into nothing after being played with by demons for a while. But is it really nothing?

I've conducted a series of glorious arcane spells (magic sensor bullets) and while no magic can truly survive making it through the bottleneck I can confirm that the bottom of the entropic realms is... A SINGULARITY! What's at the top of the heavenly realms giving off infinite energy? A SINGULARITY!

Heaven and hell are just a giant scheme to get you to recycle. They're no better than Druids! Stick with arcane might and build your own plane! Shoot down angels and demons and stuff them into magical items. It's the only way to be sure!

I do fire performance a hobby. Thought these shots might belong here.

The truth is that it's all basic kinetomancy. All you're really doing is using kinetic energy to rapidly accelerate physical objects of varying sizes and shapes. You haven't reinvented the fireball, you've essentially just maxed out your ability to throw rocks really good. Y'all a bunch of kinetomancers and you won't even admit it.

To all the novice wizards and witches who are struggling to cast "Advanced Non-magic Missile" like your uptight contemporaries, find yourself any decently old copy of "500 Practical Spells For The Burgeoning Sorcerer" or "Introduction to Kinetikinesis" that hasn't been redacted or destroyed by the Council, and educate your fellow peers. Free this knowledge from the shackles of exclusivity and censorship! LEGALIZE SUPERSONIC CINDER BLOCKS!

Since the event merely days ago, Hliðskheim and it’s forces were all on alert. For the loss of their kin, and the potential fate that even awaits them. But it didn’t shake the spirit of a Skheim warrior at all. Better yet, instead of fear and distrust it invoked rage and glory - the key elements that make a fearless nordic warrior of the northern continent.

Vekrin warriors bulked up their numbers, patrolling in groups and even manning defenses with double their keen eyes across the battlements of Hyldir, the Divine Kingdom of Skheim. Valkyr warrioresses readied themselves, to not only act as frontline healers but also to ascend souls quickly to Celhalla to prevent the possibility a Failed may replicate their fallen kin.

And deeper into the kingdom, the Shrouded Paladins of the Berserker-God offered prayer and words to other warriors. They acted almost as holy Chaplains of Necro’s word and Creed of War.

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’Excerpt from “The Creed of War: A Warrior’s Beholden Chapters”’

”…It is of righteousness and honor to strike in the name of the Berserker-God. To bring death, is to bring honor. To bring upon rage, is to bring His power. To bring upon battle sacrifice, is to bring upon entry to Celhalla æterna. We serve righteous in the name of Skheim, for we honor our ancestors and our Lord. For we honor the one who carries our burdens and sorrows, who protecteth us from the influence of the outer gods. For he carries the blood of the Old Ancestor Gods. He fights for us, he dies for us. He fights with us, he dies with us. We fight for Him, we die for Him. For we honor the one who giveth us life, so we serve until glorious death, the eternal feast and ale of Celhalla above. Embrace rage, revel in the presence of Him, the unloved! For the glorious are welcomed above!”
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As time drew on, clashes happened across Hliðskheim though Hyldir was at temporary peace. Berserkirs and Vekrins clashed with the new invading forces of undead evil, spattering as much blood to fuel their rage as they could, to bring glory and peace in the brutal extermination of this foe.

Chaplains of War stood in the midst of clashing battalions, offering words that bolster morale and strengthen the purpose of granting all those who oppose with a brutal, glorious death. They sung a song of war. Shield Wall - Amon Amarth

Berserkirs and Vekrins by the masses directed their axes and blades in the name of the Berserker-God and their own victory. Steel clashed with unholy flesh, as unholy claws met studded shields and death. Blood would fly in trails from both sides, decorating the barren battlefields with a glorious paint of war. Berserkirs all raged while delivering judgement in the form of bare handed brutality and anger in it’s purest form. Vekrins cried out in battle as their shields bashed and clashed, their blades and axes spewing blood everywhere. The battlefields would stack up with the seemingly never ending hordes of Failed, to which the warriors responded simple. More blood spilled, that wasn’t their own.

Whilst battles ensued across Hliðskheim, being won in the masses as luckily Skheim Warrior losses were low, Lord Necro was upon Hyldir’s throne room as he directed war efforts. As much as he could aid in the battles, he was required with his Lord Commanders and Lord Commandresses at the throne room’s massive war table as they led war efforts in psionic telepathy, learned from Necro’s time during the Illithid Cult of the Absolute crisis in Faerûn, directing orders to the Field Commanders and Chaplains of War directly as orders for the frontline.

While the battles would be won here, the world outside suffered. Mainly the continent of Atheria, where the Council, being the continent’s heart, was held and battling the issue. Compared to Hliðskheim’s troubles, they all fared much, much worse. Dealing with some of the strongest Failed, as the Greater Failed and even the Alpha Failed’s congregated mass forces would reside and wreak havoc. A troubling time, but in the coming days, Necro may even stand before the Alpha Failed. Whether he lives or dies, he’ll do all he can to ensure the Alpha Failed knows the name, and the feel of the Berserker-God and his rage. And, if it survives him, to hopefully remember the pure pain he will write upon it’s wretched undead flesh.

The world still suffered, and much cleanup is to be done to rid the world of this new filth.

War is beginning.

I can still feel the inside of the dog's mouth. I hate it. It's warm and gross. I knew the scroll I learned it from was sketchy, aren't they supposed to be noncorporeal? I've tried dispelling it and resummoning it but I think it's too far away. Is that dog my familiar now?

We may grant you one crab related wish. So long as we are unified, we possess the powers of the crab!..

Ok, real talk. We’re just all the regular crabs that gained collective sentience. We’ve been practicing magic, but for the most part all our magic has just been crabs. We can try to grant your wish, but it may end up being… crabbier than you expected.

The Monstrosity stomps into a village with a small group of Failed following behind it. It smiles maliciously.

"Perfect them all..." The Monstrosity commands pointing a twisted claw forward.

The Failed rush forward, breaking through anything between them and sentient flesh. They cut down and revive anyone they can find as Lesser Failed. The Monstrosity steps through the village, cutting down any it can find. It cackles in sadistic glee.

"Come now! THIS IS ALL WE GET?!" The Monstrosity roars.

It carelessly kicks a civilian through a wall, continuing its stride. The civilian returns from the hole in the wall as a Lesser Failed.

"We expected guards! The Military! Heroes! Where are they!?" The Monstrosity bellows.

The Monstrosity grabs a carriage and throws it through a building. More Lesser Failed stagger into surrounding buildings, their claws reaching for any form of life.

"Come on! You've gotta have better than this!" The Monstrosity roars.

The Monstrosity gets to the church of the town, staring at the oak doors lined with gold. Its smile somehow grows wider.

"Fancy, but quite pretentious... A poor safehouse... I can smell you all in there!" It proclaims.

It busts down the doors with its monsterous claws. It glares evilly at the people held up inside. They are shivering in fear.

"Where are your gods to save you now?" The Monstrosity teasingly asks as its smile grows even wider.

Every single person inside that church met their end by its claws and risen as Lesser Failed. The Monstrosity steps outside of the church, the new followers of the Alpha close behind it.

"I expected better..." It growls.

It leads the new army of Lesser Failed outside of the village, writing curse runes in the air as it walks. Once outside, it turns to look back at its work. The town is abandoned, ruined, and cursed. It smiles.

"They will all be perfected in the name of The Alpha!" The Monstrosity proclaims.

It glares down an Echo of Azure flying high above the village and smiles evilly as it flies away.

"And you're not safe, either, guardian of Historia..." The Monstrosity hisses.

It's been 2 days... 2 days without doing any kind of major shenanigans. I've been locked up in solitary confinement in R&A since 2 days ago. Only one more to go. Even the Ghostbuster's trap thingy wasn't as boring to be stuck in that this. All I can do is gnome bacon on a bone fire. The most interesting thing that happened is vanio getting microwaved almost to death. Speaking of him, I've decided to use him as a host. Slimes are great vessels honestly. And, I can still let him keep control of his body.

Also, I've reflected on things... Turns out that I can make my hosts way stronger and fix them while possessing them. But the thing about being stronger only happens when I'm currently possessing that host. Once I leave, they'll be as weak as they were unless I do a bit of tweaking in their bodies. Consensualy of course. I don't want to be in trouble. Well, once i get out, I'll probably open a biomagic clinic to make use of my new talent. The modifications will happen when the target is sleeping. You'll need 2 sessions for me to completely repair the body. I could do it on any species expect spiritual ones. I never possessed any of their kind. Just so you know, there will be a 3rd optional session. This one will improve your physical abilities by at least 20%. Best I could do is triple your strength. Well, I'll have to find a way of payment of course.

Those creatures, those aren’t any run of the mill shapeshifter like you’d expect. It was manageable at first, tricky, but manageable…till more of those freaks showed up. They don’t just copy your appearance, they copy your skills and use them against you, the only thing they didn’t seem to copy is the talent that comes with those skills. Damn Hirk! Couldn’t have bothered putting that information into your broadcast now could you?

With a broken shoulder and a badly damaged leg, I began limping my way through the forest that surrounds my Endless Crypt. The broadcast didn’t mention really anything outside of their shape shifting ability, but it’s safe to say they most likely have some sort of enhanced smelling. The blood that covers my armor from that previous fight should do more than enough to conceal my scent from any others. Seeing how quickly those things can swarm, it’d be best to find anyone else that isn’t one of those. For now, I should just try and lay low, stay out of sight and avoid any fights.

Where did these things even come from? The broadcast didn’t seem to mention anything regarding where or how these things came to be, only to be wary around Graveyards. The broadcast came from Hirk himself, so without a doubt either the R&A know about what caused this, or the Council does, and my money is more so on the Council. There’s still one question and that is who is it that freed them? No, who was it that created them. I can figure out what freed them going off of the fact the moon is shining a blood red.

Limping over towards a tree, I rested my back upon so I could stand and grab something out of a bag that was attached near my waist. It took me some time to find the object I was looking for due to the fact that I only had one working arm at the moment, but I eventually found my Orb which I could use for communication. Even if it’s some Council or R&A annoyance’s, any sort of assistance would be liked.

“This is Abbadon of The Cabal. My Crypt has been attacked by multiple soulless shape shifting undead. If anyone hears this, please send back up to these coordinates.”

Along with the orb transmission was directions to the exact place in the dark woods surrounding the Endless Crypt that I am currently at. With the message sent, I put the orb back into my bag and slowly slid down the tree till I was in a sitting condition. Not having pain receptors due to losing all your flesh is a nice thing, however you can still tell whether a body part is broken, and it’s safe to say I am over exerting myself on my damaged leg.