| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Fri Feb 23, 2018 10:55 pm (33 Views) | |
| Anda | Fri Feb 23, 2018 10:55 pm Post #1 |
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Anda knelt in front of the paper in her room, a blank page with an inkwell and brush next to it. She found it calming, pursuing such things in between her missions. She was dressed in a simple robe, her hair pulled back, her appearance and accommodation spartan, yet refined. She picked up the brush, her carefully cleaned and softened hands hiding the number of times a blade had been in their grasp. She allowed her mind to wander, slowly willing it to a state of non-focus, and let the words come from instinct, from what she bore on her heart. "The bodies of the heavens course a path like a river through stone A twirl like unto the turns of those who dance for coin But our days beneath them, to even the wisest are not known And all face the sunder of soul and flesh that birth doth join My hands are a cup, and the wine that flows is red It tastes bitter upon the tongue of the wicked like ash No amount of wringing can purify the cup of dregs It overflows, pouring out the sins of days past Kneel to pray, to your gods of legend and desparation Call on them, if your prayers reach their ears Burn before me, heathens, under the steel of separation Cry out in mourning, will your gods hear your tears Envy the widows, as my cup runneth over And you fill it with transgressions and gold My wrath does not age, sweet and bitter as clover And judgement, this wine shall not withhold Call on me, oh vineyards, of sin and transgression That I may crush your grapes for my tongue Beg for mercy, cry out in confession As I drink my fill, my glory unsung." |
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8:38 AM Jul 11

