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IC INFORMATION A house shrouded in mystery, dealing in blood and dark magics to ensure their prosperity over the centuries, the House of Sayrillont act as puppeteers to control the political and military climate of Ishgard from the shadows. With the world on the brink of ruin, this house of man and dragon both seek to extend and grab influence in each corner of the world to both use their influences to save the world from the doom coming for it as well as conquer and take advantage of vulnerable avenues of influence that have arisen from this desperate state of near extinction. A house of a powerful and immortal legacy, the Sayrillont legacy makes bonds in blood and does not take kindly to betrayal. Inducting its kindred via dark and nefarious blood rituals which bind the persons aether directly to the bloodline in exchange for ancient and primal power fueled by dragonsblood, the family are a force to be reckoned with. Boasting its capability for its bravado both on the battlefield and in parliament the family have taken down many of its rivals over the years with renowned mercilessness and suspiciously little intervention from the authorities. Having ownership of a grail of blood, an ancient artefact that has been imbued and cherished by the house for generations and is said to hold the secrets of the Sayrillont bloodline as well as the unique vampiric abilities that each of pure blood to the house possess. This grail lies on an aetherial leyline and has the ability when properly used to augment and mutate ones aether. With the house's ranks rising the Sayrillont family open these opportunities to others that swear fealty. Giving them a limited imbuement of what the grail has to offer through the mark so that they may serve the house more efficiently. The house looks for new blood to fill its ranks, those with knowledge of the dark and occult to fuel its rituals for power and conquest of knowledge, and those with influence and pull in areas outside the North to assist the house in pulling and cementing its influence in other places outside the cold North. OOC INFORMATION <GRAIL> is a lore-adhering free company focused on the day to day and Military dealings of the Ishgardian House of Sayrillont. An ancient and enigmatic force within the wintery North, House Sayrillont has thrived through manipulation and blood. Dealing into heretical ways to ensure its prosperity and continued legacy through working with dragons. The House orchestrated many ploys on both sides to ensure the true nature of the house was kept secret, its rituals ensuring power and a unique synergy with the dragons they worked alongside as bloodbearers. With peace being bought to the North the house seeks to come out from the shadows and secure its prominence in other territories, no matter the cost. As a company, we wish to give a place for people to enjoy roleplaying under a noble house that gives more than just your run of the day dealings. Primarily operating in a somewhat antagonistic nature as a free company, we hope to be able to give those that join as well as those who wish to work alongside or even against us ICly the opportunity to delve and thrive within the many dark and occult dealings the house employs to get the job done. What We Offer: RP events ranging from day to day dealings of the noble house to more dark and mature themes such as blood rituals, sacrifice and occult pacts as they delve into new areas of opportunity. A large array of event types to suit every kind of player. A great OOC community. 3 events weekly. Opportunities for multi-guild and intercommunity roleplay and plotlines. Do I have to be in the company to roleplay with us? Of course not! Despite the secretive nature of the house ICly, the company hopes to bring in many allies in the coming future to ensure mutual growth and story opportunities. Whether you wish to ally with the house, trade relics or even act as a rival and enemy to the house's dealings, get in touch! We thrive on this sort of thing and are always looking to make great and memorable plotlines with new friends. If you want to get in touch, contact Aldric Sayrillont in game or poke me at Aldric#0807 on discord.
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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From the album: Gerard Larsonient / Gaspard Nellmont
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Some time after the events of Part I: In Search of Melodies in Ruin --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As fat as he was, Ozu'ya struggled to crawl away. Sweat dribbled - no, poured from his forehead and drenched his shirt. His heart rate was accelerating and his blood pressure spiked. His eyes widened with fear when he realized that his back was now touching the wall; no more room or any chances to escape. In front of him, she swung slightly in the air - loosely like a swing in the gentle wind. Her eyes had rolled back and drool mixed with blood trickled from her mouth. Clenching tightly around her neck was a black armored gauntlet, each finger was sharp like the talons of a bird of prey. Her larynx was crushed but she had died seconds earlier when the wicked sword plunged into her gut. Now the whore's corpse swung gently as the murderer held her aloft by her neck. With a single hand, the murderer threw her body effortlessly across the room and her blood splattered onto the wall upon physical impact. The miqo'te whore's body fell back onto the floor... ... and joined the other corpses that laid scattered on the floors of the brothel. The murderer slowly turned his his attention towards the cowering fat Ozu'ya. Ozu'ya wimpered at the sight of the black helm that stared directly at him. Calmly, the black and crimson armored knight made his way towards the last of his prey. "N-no! W-wait, p-please! I-I... I can give you gil! All the gil you desire!" The Dark Knight slowly advanced closer with each step. "Think of the gil! N-no, wait, how about women? P-power? P-please don't kill me!" The Dark Knight was now a mere few feet from a rich and fat Ozu'ya. "I'll pay double - no, triple of what they paid you!" Ozu'ya was now dimmed by the shadow of the Dark Knight. Slowly lifting his massive great sword - a sword forged by otherworldly means, the Dark Knight prepared to execute Ozu'ya. Ozu'ya continued to mumble with snot and tears streaming from his puffy face. The fear had caused his face to drain itself of blood and as his eyes stared at the blade that spelled his doom, he squealed at the top of his lungs. The weapon was brought down into the face of Ozu'ya the fat. Ozu'ya the rich. Ozu'ya the corrupted. And the screaming was no more. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The brothel burned into the night and the flames licked the cool sky. The building slowly collapsed as the Dark Knight walked away. Quietly and calmly, he walked ever so gently. His helm masked his face and in the darkness beneath the great helm were steel colored eyes... ... and they burned with unrelenting hate.
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PROLOGUE: CARNAGE Strength is pain. Strength is suffering. Strength is sacrifice. Those who have never faced death do not scruple to condemn others to it. They know nothing of true sacrifice, and are weak for their ignorance. In sacrifice there is strength. In sacrifice there is liberation. For one that was unrelenting has come to be unmerciful. For the other always unceasing has finally become a nightmare to all. May The Fury guide us in our road to damnation. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somewhere in Dravania... Ever had the cold lingered and suffocated every hint of sun and light that made its way into the white mountain. Agony and sorrow, birthed from war, had halted time and each movement of life seemed sluggish just like the flakes of snow that descended onto clashing steel and iron. "Kill the heretics! Kill them all!" In the thick of the forest of ice and snow, a party of Ishgardian Knights sent from the footsteps of the Holy See of Ishgard carried on with their battle against traitorous Dravanaian worshiping heretics. The captain of the knights swung his sword crosswise at his opponent, slicing the bare flesh of the heretic's neck where mail armor did not cover. The other knights advanced, exchanging parries and slashes, arrows and stabs, as bodies from both groups lay broken and lifeless. "Do not let any of them escape! By Halone shall victory be ours!" Holding his sword aloft, the knight captain sprinted and parried incoming arrows as he led the charge forward. The heretics, being outnumbered, began to retreat back into the mountains with quick haste. The knight captain grinded his teeth and charged faster, determined not to let any of the traitors escape. As he began to close in on the first heretic, the captain stopped, for the heretic that stood in front of him had also ceased running. The elezen stood still for a time being and right as the captain approached, the heretic elezen fell onto his back in a quick and bloody heap. The captain furrowed his brow, approaching the shadow that stood over the dead body of the heretic. Armor black like charcoal, this knight did not belong in the captain's ranks. Holding his massive sword aloft in the air, the knight coldly stared back at the captain with steel colored eyes underneath his helm. The snow cascaded slower than the blood that trickled onto the ground from the knight's sword. "Well, it looks like we're in luck! It seems the Va-" Interrupted by a scream of agony behind him, the captain turned to witness one of his knights impaled by a halberd and thrust into the air. The wielder of the weapon was another knight - armor crimson and jet, showered by the blood of the captain's murdered man. "What the hell is going here?! Why are you two doing th- GAH!" The next and final words that came from the knight captain was cut short as the same halberd was plunged into his mouth. His eyes rolled back, his body felt limp, and air was difficult to inhale as his throat filled with pain and blood. Before the knight captain fell into eternal slumber, the last thing he saw as he was lifted into the air was the countless bodies of both heretics and knights that littered the snow. The Vale Brothers had slaughtered them all.
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- dark knight
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