To Become A ClericTo Become A Cleric3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
To Become a Cleric
Wanted ads on the bulletin board were always alike. Even after the many times they were updated, each request still wanted the same thing: A bulky warrior with a dog's brain capacity or a Cleric with healing abilities. Though the ads never stated which kind of cleric abilities
The Deceitful TextbookThe Deceitful Textbook3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
The Deceitful Textbook
■ Grimoire ■ 27-? ■ Cleric?
The Bottled Cleric: Supporting CharactersThe Bottled Cleric: Supporting Characters3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
COTTON | BONIFACE
■ HUMAN ■ FISHERMAN
...Short and Sweet
Cotton is a soft-spoken ten year-old boy who fantasizes about becoming a Cleric. He is the young brother of Piers Boniface and is regularly seen wearing bulky clothes that belong to him. He does not enjoy the life of a fisherman and would rather put off his responsibilities in order to daydream about his future Cleric profession. Due to his age, he can be very stubborn and is quick to shed tears or throw a tantrum when things do not go his way. He does not have any admiration for his brother and frequently runs away when he gets into disputes with him, but he always comes home a few hours later.
Times Used: 4
Unaccepted (Part 1)Ambition is, essentially, a slippery slope. One may risk life and limb climbing up a steep, imposing mountain only to fall back down, or otherwise perish from the harsh, high-altitude atmosphere. On the other hand, personal satisfaction and potential fame awaits one who can succeed where others have tried and failed. Perhaps it's safe to say that, as such, those who take great risks are the ones most desperately wanting purpose and meaning.Unaccepted (Part 1)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
For Crystal, the quest for purpose is the key tenet to her religious beliefs. According to what she has been taught, the Goddess has a plan for every living being, and every unfortunate event has a profound reason behind it. In her hometown, this is an increasingly outdated notion, and her family is one of the few remaining who hold it to be true. Even so, Crystal dearly holds on to her convictions, because they are her most vital source of hope.
After all, what else could bring light to the painfully ironic and hopeless life of an angel who can't f
HarmonizationPresence is the essence of atmosphere, which holds against the frigid grip of the void. With the power to control presence one could mold the perception of reality, taking truth and distorting it into a well-spun ideal. A white lie.Harmonization3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Many can learn this world-changing art form, but it takes a deity to implement it on a universal scale. The presence of such a powerful force could completely alter the course of reality, to where the very land itself molds into the ideal the master wishes to express. Fundamentally, the world is a mirror into the heart of its maker.
An infinitely powerful presence formed the Infinite World, but the reflection he saw eventually drove him away. Only two parts of him remain, acting as deities of infinitely separated domains, each representing their own polarized ideals. Without the mediation that the creator had provided, the power of these lingering forces threaten to reshape the Infinite World into a place of warring extremes, working against the original pu
The Creator's GameRain splashed at the wide window. Lightning flashed, brightening up the office, showing the silhouette of a man. Footsteps soon followed, indicated only by the slight vibrations in the floor, since the raging storm drowned out all noise.The Creator's Game3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Another flash. This time, the man was much closer, and appeared to be heading toward the door. He may have seen me in the flash, though I doubt he could make out my features any more than I could see his, and instead he merely knew that the safest option was to escape from the mysterious intruder while he still had the chance.
The door opened, and light trickled into the room. I saw his face, old and wrinkled, carrying a look of surprise and anger. I rushed to the door, and chased my target down the hallway, holding the miniature bomb in my hand. He turned to look at his killer, eyes wide with the realization of my identity, before sprinting to the stairs and screaming for security.
If he hadn't looked back, he might have got away. I caught him opening