Valamir Emberstone

♱ CRYSTAL♱ MATEUS ♱ CRIME & DARK - RP ♱ CST ♱

• I
• II
• III
• IV

• 𓉸

ꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀ

on the 4th umbral moon, a baby boy was born to a kendra emberstone, and martin emberstone.. what started out as a good and quiet life was quickly taken from the boy and his father when kendra emberstone died in a mysterious mining accident. martin emberstone later would die of alcohol poisoning while watching over the young boy. only the cruel dirt paved roads and a few odd jobs here and there would raise valamir. until he found his place inside the 'bloodletter' gang. the head of which would become a father figure to him. GAINING THE NAME 'Embers' as he rose through the ranks.however one fateful shoot out would prove to be his last in the 'bloodletter' gang. sheriff's department of Linweed had caught up to the gang, while the bloodletter's were held up in a chapel full of townsfolk, doubling as hostages. A ten hour stand off ended when a shot rang out from inside the chapel. ending in a bloodbath. the sheriff, his lawmen. the bloodletters, and their gang. INCLUDING TOWNSOLK, ALL DEAD. WHEN THE LOCAL PRESS WOULD WRITE ABOUT IT, ONE KEY DETAIL CAUGHT READER'S ATTENTION. oNE BODY UNACCOUNTED FOR, ONLY A TRAIL OF BLOOD AND FOOT PRINTS, THAT LED OUT BEHIND THE CHAPEL'S REAR ENTRANCE. THE PAPERS OFFICIALLY DUBBING IT; 'THE TERROR-DALE MASSACRE'EVER SINCE THEN, valamir emberstone would drift aimlessly across the source, seeking bounty after bounty, job after job. WHEREVER THERE WAS GIL TO BE MADE, WHISKEY TO BE DRANK, AND REPUTATION TO GAINED, HE WOULD SURELY LEAVE HIS MARK. AND MAYBE EVEN A FEW BODIES BEHIND HIM.

I've seen it. In my dreams, the horrible rumbling of a new primal buried beneath the dirt of this great star. whose cinders came to life and sprouted through the soil like a tree. brought to life through the horrid calls for retribution and vengeance of the downtrodden. it's wings soared across the sky and cleaved through hundreds before being sealed inside a tomb made of it's own doing.when it's phylactery was brought to me i thought nothing of it than a long forgotten piece of pottery. whose etchings and writing produced only a poem from some half-witted peasant long before my time. yet as the days grew shorter in the winter months i could hear it beginning to beat softly like a hollow drum. planting horrible dreams and visions into my mind like a ripe disease.it's hatefulness nearly made manifest after an argument i had with my brother, an argument so fierce it left us both battered and bruised. and when i went to go tend to the blood that had gathered on the floor i saw it reach out from the shadows, claiming the crimson vitae spread across the stone.i saw it's unholy stature rise out of it's tomb and try to claim me. i and a few other maesters sealed the creature back where it had come from. i vowed whatever stirred within it be sent elsewhere, far into the dirt where it belonged. i sent a crew of twenty-four, had them sail as far west they could plant feet upon the sun. i told them; 'bury it, bury it far into the ground until not even the undoing of this grand existance could unearth it.'their doubts had seemingly been swallowed by the sea on their venture. when they had returned, none so much as muttered a whisper. the memory of that forsaken relic will die with all twenty five of us.and should the unholy memory be unearthed. may the twelve have mercy on whoever is left..