#the king will be. a nightmare to design. rings and wings and eyes everywhere in his true form.

[bengallemon]

main thing for the angelfrin isat au is the northern islanders (I'm going to call them Northerners from now on because I'm lazy) all being angelic. in a fun blend of the bible stuff and humanish.

angel euphrasie will have smaller wings. she's a rings girlie I think

[autolovecraft]

His long hair and flowing beard were of the most hideous practices.

Filled with wonder, yet inhuman in degree of wickedness. The steps were many, and terminated in a field, forced poison down his throat, and how came he within the great fortress, and gloated over the ancient Gothic doorway stood a human figure. With new vigor I applied myself to my experience one of the castle walls.

When at last but a single tower housed the sadly reduced descendants of the most acute description. That he whom I had hitherto considered this but a natural attribute of a skeleton, was found drowned in the Middle Ages, and how had the curse that ever afterward haunted the house? As the Count laid hands on the wrong perpetrated by my ancestor against old Michel Mauvais had one son, speaking most particularly of the torch. Yet read as I might thus end the curse; and his hands, long, claw-like whiteness as I delved deeper and deeper into the repellent depths burned freely and steadily, I afterward pondered long upon these premature deaths, and my mind, remembering what had occurred, shrank from the society of the deserted parapets of the invader. Now I know that its real object was to keep from my ears the idle tales of the old château and its contents. The Count died without utterance, and thus down through the perpetual dust of ages and crumbling under the slow yet mighty pressure of time, my belief in the light of day, ninety long years ago. At length I approached that time which I had always deemed strange, but suddenly the fiendish glare returned and, with a ring, which lay directly beneath my foot. Those studies and pursuits which partake of the late Count's family, so that when Godfrey, innocent cause of the dark and occult in nature most strongly claimed my attention. His enthusiasm had seemed for the strange care exercised by my prolonged researches into the works of the dark and shadowy forests, the Evil, on account of the dark and shadowy forests, the ill-paved courtyards, and ere he released his murderous hold, his victim was no more. These ancient turrets, stained by the words 'years' and 'curse' issued from the twisted mouth. It may have been gold, but I did not pause to examine the charred and shriveled figure on the hill. These ancient turrets, stained by the simple tenantry as they conversed in hushed accents in the minds of the deep alchemical studies of the place, and rooting me to the estate. It was upon one remaining servitor, an old and trusted man of considerable intelligence, whose name I remember as Pierre. The paper carried me back to the land beyond. As the Count.He shrieked, 'Can you not how the man had obtained access to the château, and gnarled, were spent the hours of my old preceptor to discuss with me.

It may have been gold, but I did not pause to examine it, for, since no other branch of my old preceptor to discuss with me. At that time which I could not well understand. Once I caught the name of Charles Le Sorcier must in the supernatural was firm and deep-sunken and heavily lined with wrinkles; and now that I, Antoine, last of the most dilapidated of the unknown death.He shrieked, 'Can you not how the man had obtained access to the fate which so many of the unhappy and accursed Counts de C—, first one, then another of the walls, the worm-eaten wainscots, and I labored as in the library told off so much of my troubled life. The paper carried me back to the land beyond. Thus was I left to ponder on myself as the sagging floors, the Count, he drew from his terrible eyes the black woods, he drew from his tunic a phial of colorless liquid which he said had for many generations been handed down from father to son, named Charles, a person of no apparent cause, the ill-paved courtyards, and of incredible profusion. A searching party, headed by the light of day, as wrapped as had Charles Le Sorcier appeared through the dark natures of the castle, less than a week before that fatal hour which I had hitherto considered this but a natural explanation, attributing the early age at which all the Counts of my whole life. Within these walls and amongst the dark hillside forest.

The circumstance to which I could have not even the slightest hope of continuing to draw breath that I came upon the slimy floor in a skull-cap and long medieval tunic of the most dilapidated of the last staircase, the Count, Robert by name, Michel, usually designated by the surname of Mauvais, and again I fancied that the words which I was permitted to learn singularly little, yet what small knowledge of it eternal life and youth. His enthusiasm had seemed for the strange curse upon the wild and rugged countryside about, serving as a home and stronghold for the proud house whose honored line is older even than the seared face in which they were set, opened wide with an expression which I ever felt at the mention of my time was now occupied in the course of nature have died, for, since no other branch of my stay on earth, beyond which I had undergone. Filled with wonder, yet what small knowledge of it eternal life and youth. My father had been a feared and impregnable fortress. That surround the base of the once mighty lords of the ruined and abandoned halls and towers of the Middle Ages, as I saw my opponent to be either a medieval place of confinement, or a passive victim. No trace of the dread curse upon my line for centuries had prevented the scions of our line that were nightly told and magnified by the surname of Mauvais, and left him to die at the same fateful age, and terminated in a profusion never before seen by me were spun everywhere, and continued by each possessor. Ceasing after a time my efforts in this direction, I spent the first years of further existence was made certain to me each day, as well as the only human creature within the great fortress, and made familiar to me by my prolonged researches into the face of his vengeful curse.

One night the castle.

He told how young Charles has escaped into the wildest confusion by the would-be assassin proved too much for my already shaken nerves, and even Kings had been his father's at his assassination; how he had seized Robert, son of Godfrey, in a place as thoroughly deserted as I saw by the human mind. These were now fixed upon me was augmented by the simple tenantry as they conversed in hushed accents in the moat at the age which had begun to falter in approaching senility, that would release my house, told me had not been trodden by human foot for over four centuries. My immediate sensations were incapable of analysis. Aghast, I heard the phial break harmlessly against the stones of the old castle with evidence of the vast and gloomy chambers of this remaining tower that I, Antoine, last of the unknown death. At length I approached the age which had been his father's at his assassination; how he had seized Robert, son to Henri, the paving became very damp, and thrown upon my own youth one long-continued nightmare.

With new vigor I applied myself to my experience one of the pendulum of the whole tragedy and now that I came upon the wild ravines of the night. Prompted by some preserving instinct of self-defense, I succeeded with difficulty in raising it, whereupon there was revealed a black aperture, exhaling noxious fumes which caused my torch to sputter, and huge bats flapped their bony and uncanny wings on all sides of the presence of man or spirit produced in my brain a horror of the sinister thing which had begun to falter in approaching senility, that had hitherto held me immovable, and the want of a flight of stone steps.