#🦇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘𝐑𝐊𝐔𝐋. [ 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 ] 🦇

[theundeadgospel]

[ Cont. ]

“ Fuck me for caring about you, am I right? “

With a defensive roll of her eyes, Beth continued to bandage up the wound before reaching into her bag, pulling out a skin pouch of a rather sweet scented lotion. The medicinal herbs were then gently massaging into his wound — large hands surprisingly docile for someone of her stature.

“ This may sting a bit, but all will be well eventually…how are you feeling as of now? Do you need me to fetch you some water? “

@hellmxses

[theundeadgospel]

Clive better not be involved when we have a rougher sort of cuddle session too.

He is innocent and his beady eyes must be shielded from such sin.

If we're having a cuddle sesh, know that I WILL be big spoon, and Clive WILL BE involved

[theundeadgospel]

[ Cont. ]

“ …What do you mean for what? I saw your text post. “

Stepping inside, she then began to unload the remedies — a heating pack, slabs of meat, blankets, medication, and at least five different books on pregnancy. She definitely didn’t get the hint that Valentino was pranking people.

“ I did not know moth men could get pregnant — but to be fair, sinner anatomy is beyond me. I could not find any information on moth men pregnancies in books either, however…and when I asked the librarian, she just looked at me strangely. “

@mothvalentino

[theundeadgospel]

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃. —

Lord Myrkul is a quasi-deity that domains the dead, necromancy, decay, and withering. All aspects of death in its rawest forms are usually pinpointed back to his cause, as Faerûn residents feared death solely because they would all meet Myrkul one day. Often, upon old age emerging and the vessel beginning to break down, the elderly and ill would curse Lord Myrkul for their aches and shaky bones.

Unlike Lord Kelemvor, who teaches that death is something not to be feared, Lord Myrkul is a ghastly reminder that everyone has an hourglass and his touch will come for every man, animal, and God. Fear is the greatest factor that feeds his existence. Despite the grim reality and harsh truth, his followers can be kind and comforting during one’s death day — as can he.

Taunting and selfishness is still in his nature as is his own gains for power, but most of this now links back to the fear of being entirely forgotten and vanishing from existence. Because of his great reduce in power due to the Time of Troubles, Midnight disintegrating his avatar, Lord Kelemvor refurbishing the Bone Castle and claiming his realm, Lord Myrkul was forced to exist in a state of limbo on the Astral Plane. While he does have manifestations on the mortal realm (Faerûn and so forth), he has his own god-isle on the Astral Plane as well — and still comes for the dying as the reaper, serving under Lord Kelemvor as a lesser death deity. Lord Myrkul’s job is to collect the soul and guide them back to the City of Judgment.

His personality and determination has mellowed down since falling from Godhood. Even during The Time of Troubles — where he and Lord Bane stole the Tablets of Fate from Lord Ao — Lord Myrkul was the tamest out of both Lord Bane and Lord Bhaal. He was known to speak in a high pitched whisper, never lost his temper, performed in a very calculative manner, and even addressed his thralls as ‘friends’. It’s uncertain if he’s genuine or mocking with pet names such as ‘friend’ and ‘dear’ — it’s hit or miss. He loves to be unpredictable. Nevertheless, exhausted with everything at this point after the events of the Betrayer’s Crusade, Time of Troubles (avatar death), Second Sundering, and 15th century (second death via apostle), he just exists to exist (most likely out of spite).

— 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. —

Lord Myrkul sends out messages through a variety of unsettling creatures if he’s not materializing by himself. This includes (not limited to) undead (skeletons, zombies, winged horrors, etc), bats, black panthers, leopards, hellhounds, and nightmares. The undead usually are the ones that carry his will on the mortal plane. He also will send items to his faithful to express nonverbal favor or dislike — blood red roses that crumble into black soot when touched, jet, obsidian, onyx, ravens, and crows. They can aid in his faithful’s endeavor.

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘. —

Temples are scarce but do still exist. Many people paid respects out of fear or during funerals, though primary faith is extremely rare. Followers would also keep their patron a secret — for a variety of reasons. Initiates to the faith are brought to kneel before a temple's doomwarden, where they must spend a night and a day fasting and meditating in complete darkness.

Myrkulite priests were known as The Gray Ones and carried about a rumor that touching one meant instant death. Morose and obsessed with death and the undead, they are the highest form of worship in Lord Myrkul’s name.

The clergy as a whole were tasked to make Faerûn residents fear and respect death enough that the church wouldn’t be trifled with. They were also tasked to remind people that following Lord Myrkul meant they had the church’s trust and patience — it was confirmed that if a member were to be murdered, the church would go out of their way to conduct vengeance on the perpetrator for fucking with one of it’s flock. Surprisingly, Myrkulites and Lord Myrkul himself are strict with loyalty and keeping to their word — as seen in BG3 when he attempted to slaughter the main party for slaying his chosen.

This reverses if one of the church betrays another or the God. Akachi turned his back on Lord Mykrul when he was his chosen and ended up as the cursed Spirit Eater after getting his entire army obliterated by Lord Mykrul’s undead army. Again, instilling mass fear with that story and to not dare fuck with his endeavors.

If not instilling fear, Mykrulites conduct funerals for ‘skull fees’ (should a person want a priest of Mykrul to act as an agent, avenger, or to carry out tasks for them after they die, they have to pay the priest personally before they expire). They are popular clients due to their resistance to diseases, meaning they can carry out tasks for retrieving the plagued, diseased, and infected. They will take care that the dying are as comfortable as possible before passing away, claiming that death is inevitable and shouldn’t be escaped. They view the deceased as sacred hands from beyond the grave and insist that the dying draft decrees, wills, cryptic verses that guide the living to search for their hidden treasure or otherwise dance to their bidding after they are dead.

— 𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘. —

Mykrulites will address one another as ‘Most Holy Death’ or simply ‘Death’ depending on the status of importance. Novices are known as the ‘Daring Ones’. Priests are known as the ‘Night Bringers’. Speciality priests are known as ‘The Gray Ones’.

— 𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒. —

A Dusking is to be performed every day at dusk in honor of remembrance on how mortal all living beings are and how close death walks behind each creature. These rituals consist of a floating skull (if the user is magic based) above a bone decorated altar surrounded by grave dust, bones, viscera, and ashes from the deceased. Prayers and offerings are given at this time to appease Lord Myrkul from both faithful and non-devout, though prayers and offerings can be given at any time of late hours and not just limited to dusk. Tolling bells — unlike the soft jingles of normal bells — will be rung upon the beginning, end of a ritual, and presenting offerings.

The Feast of the Moon — also known as Day the Dead are Most With Us— is the church’s respective holiday. This day marks when the deceased rise again and transverse as unseen spirits, warning, observing, or communicating with their living descendants. Chants, prayers, and hymns are done by the church to respect the dead. They will also conduct Flagons of the Fallen — a ritual in which followers would pour drinks into goblets and set them alight as a way to symbolically offer warmth to the spirits of the dead, essentially ‘toasting’ the fallen in a morbid way.

— 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍. —

Bethanne was chosen seconds before the full transformation of nosferatuism could entirely corrupt her being. Had Lord Myrkul not interfered with the transformation, a once mortal Bethanne would have succumbed to Noctus’ — a powerful nosferatu beast — bidding and become nothing more than a mind controlled beast.

Instead, she resides as a hybrid of sorts — just a singular step away from completing the modification, the nosferatu humanoid still retains the gargoyle-esque appearance and macabre features complete with the wings and strengths. Those who fall victim to a nosferatu’s bite will either go mad and into a biting frenzy or become another one of Noctus’ thralls to rip apart the living. Lord Myrkul, seeing potential in her determination and stubbornness, blessed her with his necrotic touch — meaning if he were to retract his blessing, the curse would effectively kill her, free from its restraints. Her body is relentlessly battling the curse.

Unfortunately, with little knowledge on the Gods, Bethanne did not seek out Lord Myrkul until later on in the story — nor was she aware she was his rightful chosen.

Formerly a barbarian with path of the beast, Bethanne could go into a rage and use the curse to her advantage by temporarily becoming the beast — only every time she harnessed it, it would become more untamable and beastly. The beast will also forcibly push itself to the front of her mind whenever Noctus was around, causing her body to go into a fit of hysteria as it desperately sought for control again. This occurrence had led her to nearly murdering her close friend, as the beast is not hers to leash — but Noctus’.

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄. —

Upon meeting several undead knights of Lord Kelemvor that had been slain and cursed by Noctus, Bethanne swore to avenge them by taking Noctus’ head. Holding her to her word, the knights had the barbarian swear on it and give some of her blood — declaring the confused undead as a paladin of vengeance.

Again, with little knowledge on the Gods, Bethanne did not know much about Lord Kelemvor and took this as a sign that one of the divine finally heard her pleads for mercy (the vast majority of Gods despise or pity the undead, thus ignoring her). She was then gifted Carnage — a sentient sword Lord Kelemvor weld before ascending to Godhood. Unfortunately, it became a rude awakening finding out that Carnage bathed in the blood of her own kind and Lord Kelemvor had tasked her with killing a greater force of undead — while also disliking her. Essentially tasking a being he disliked with a chore and simultaneously having her murder her own kin in his sword’s steed.

Enraged by this information, Bethanne was stuck with Carnage until she either perished or someone else attuned to the item (no one wanted to). As a martyr for the undead who believed in the coexistence of both mortal and deceased, this became a huge barrier in her cause — to which she pondered if this was done on purpose now to put a sharp detour in her cause via divine intervention. Carnage monitored her at all times and she knew that reaching out to Lord Myrkul for help would be imminent death by Lord Kelemvor — and in the end, she ultimately chose death over slavery.

Every other night, Beth would place Carnage aside to perform a small dusking ritual just to let the deity know she was reaching out — quickly putting out the candles right after receiving a reaction so that Carnage wouldn’t find out.

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐒��𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒. —

As the party fought Noctus for a third time, the vampire lord brought several thrall beasts with him to thwart a masquerade hosted by Ireena and Izek Kolyana. The worst case scenario approached rapidly as most of Beth’s party fell, leaving only her and the sorceress barely alive, Noctus taunting Beth’s deceased family and the desperate cries for Lord Myrkul’s interference.

Right before being slain by Noctus, Bethanne suddenly went limp. Her soul woke up in a wintery nothingness, the chill surprisingly felt despite the undead unable to feel the cold — and Lord Myrkul finally acknowledged her in his god isle, explaining that her presence there will alert Lord Kelemvor and be seen as betrayal. The shepherd of the dead then revealed that he kept her late family in his isle for her to say her final goodbyes to before they left to The City of Judgement before ridding of the beast so Noctus could no longer control her — erasing both path of the beast and paladin of vengeance to substitute with zealot and oathbreaker.

Meanwhile, on the mortal plane, the sorceress helplessly watched as Bethanne’s body dreamily rose as if puppeteered, lazy hands raising Carnage against her belly — and slitting it wide open, disemboweling her vessel, killing her instantly. Her soul screeched to the high realms as it and her body were torn apart by both breaking an oath and being punished by a God, Lord Myrkul squeezing her hand and embracing the pitiful thing until the agony passed.

From that day on, Lord Kelemvor proclaimed that she was kill on sight for he and his devout followers — and Bethanne became Lord Myrkul’s only surviving death knight, sent back to the mortal plane to spread his gospel, thus earning her the official title ‘The Gospel of Lord Myrkul’ (can be interchanged with The Lord of Bones).

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃. —

Fearing Lord Myrkul’s disappearance permanently as opposed to any sort of punishment, Bethanne used her cause in his name (without directly mentioning Lord Myrkul), any of her successions in converting one’s negative view on undead to positive being a gift for her god.

The Gospel is referred to by many titles by their followers — The Unholy One, The Grayest One, Mistress of Bones, The Herald of Bones, The Gospel, etc. She will accept bowing in greeting, but refuses any feet kissing or buttering up. Uninterested in letting power go to her head, Bethanne occupies herself with designing temples to be, current temple architecture, training death paladins into future death knights, and studying death magic with the cleric and priests. Occasionally, whenever time permits it, The Gospel will go out of her way to carry out the dying’s deeds without a skull fee. She will visit graveyards to clean moldy tombs and replenish the flowers — and to catch glimpses of Lord Myrkul lurking about the cemetery.

In spite of all of this, one should not take her kindness as weakness. As an oathbreaker zealot, Beth wields a battle axe and myrkulite scourge with methods of the most gruesome demises. This includes — but is not limited to — bludgeoning, slitting throats, skull crushing, dismemberment, and her favorite — decapitation via execution. Each corpse will have their bones taken out of the body to be used in her next offering batch. The organs will be harvested for other components. Depending on how crucial the offense was, the flesh will sometimes be thieved to be woven into book covers to be dyed black and given to the temple. Kelemvorites will always be risen as an undead thrall directly after slain as punishment for trifling with her territory — or hung out to dry up under the sun, Lord Myrkul’s symbol carved into the chest cavity for all to see as a warning.

[theundeadgospel]

you look over and see a pair of beady, necrotic eyes wyd

[theundeadgospel]

Tender, he claims. Just tender, nothing to worry about.

“ Shut the fuck up, Gale. That is anything but a flesh wound. “

It was almost insulting to the champion to play off decay as some minor matter in front of her. Necrotic eyes narrow in barely concealed judgement, analyzing the corruption at hand before her gauntleted palm gently presses into his chest.

“ …Are you withering from this curse? It seems necrotic in nature, but I cannot be so sure when I have never seen an ailment like this before. I am advanced in the art of necromancy — by giving and taking. Not so much knowledge wise — you are the bookworm here.

Indulge me, what are your symptoms? Before the bookworm becomes a maggot. “

open rp || gale dekarios "It's - I'm fine, it's nothing to worry about." hand against the orb, breathing slightly ragged, pulsing purple light shining through the thin lines, shimmering from under his skin, further into his body. The edges of his left eye were starting to blacken, the sclera becoming more contaminated by the day. "Just a little... little tender."

[theundeadgospel]

CHOKE ON YOUR BLOOD AND YOUR TEARS! BLEED TILL YOU’VE RUN OUT OF YEARS! WE MUST DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE!

GIVE UP YOUR HONOR AND FAITH! LIVE UP YOUR LIFE AS A WRAITH! DIE IN THE BLOOD WHERE YOU BATHE! WE MUST DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE!

[theundeadgospel]

There was an uneasy silence that fell over them.

Bethanne had been busy lately. Too busy. Preoccupied with things she refused to even touch on, each inquiry met with a rather unsettling ‘do not fret’ in copious different reiterations — when Karlach was one of the closest people to her.

It was understandable that the fires would slowly stoke higher and higher the more the champion ignored Karlach’s concern, her own frustration reaching a fever pitch. Some things are better left unsaid. Unknown.

“ Would you just STOP? “

An abrupt lash, flickers of green light whisking about the oathbreaker’s armored body. Formerly soft eyes that gazed upon the woman with sincerity were now scorched with midnight scleras and necrotic green pupils, fists clenching and unclenching with budding violence.

“ I said I do not want to talk about MY businesses. I have so much — SO FUCKING MUCH TO DO. It all falls on ME and if I fucking FAIL then everything is going to WILD SHIT AND THE LIVES OF MANY WILL PERISH. MY EMPIRE WILL CRUMBLE! “

Vague as it was, there’s vulnerability — and terror. She’s standing at the very tip of a mountain, about to plummet to her fourth demise — in solitude.

“ — It is too dangerous for you to be let in, Karlach, I have enough lives to take care of. I adore you, I do, but you need to STAY. AWAY. “

@infernalapparatus

[theundeadgospel]

“ They do not possess the ability to speak nor judge. Flesh-ridden beings harness the tongue as a weapon and use it to initiate wars and petty quarrels, “

Beth nonchalantly replies, raising her hands to perform a series of motions until her palms and digits glow a necrotic green. The carcass of a fallen soldier twitches — then begins to writhe as its skeleton attempts to break free from its meat incarceration, bones protruding through lumps of decayed skin.

“ And they are useful for errands and combat. Once struck hard enough, they temporarily become a pile of bones — then can rise again with no ailment, able to fight again.

A human will die — simply that. They do not get back up. “

@theundeadgospel

"Why do you keep company with the dead? With-- fleshless beings? No blood, no sinew, only bones?"

[theundeadgospel]

beth’s the weird cross between ugly and cute that you can’t help but pity love

[theundeadgospel]

maybe I’m just a monster fucker with no taste but BARK BARK BARK BARK

[theundeadgospel]

[ Cont. ]

Shifting to prop herself up on her elbows, Beth staved off nightly anxieties by flooding him in aggressive attention.

Kisses planted all over his stomach, chest, and face, each kiss leaving evidence of its wake through black lipstick stains. Hands rise to cup his cheeks, thumb pads rubbing into tan flesh as her head rested upon his chest now, drowsiness sapping the last of her energy.

“ Mm, canary… “

A tiny whine, affectionately addressing him by his chosen nickname. She’s fighting sleep.

@abel-second-son

[theundeadgospel]

What the fuck.

Brows furrow in evident disdain toward the…lavishing outfit he wardrobed himself with. A Santa suit all decked out with holly jolly bits of viscera and stained, fresh blood. The scent of rich iron stung the nosferatu’s flared nostrils, a low sigh leaving her.

Gross.

“ …Nice costume choice, leetle pierrot.

Dare I ask how you celebrate this holiday? “

Probably not the answer she’s seeking.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆. but he was the center of attention thanks to his uniform. the moment that they had approached him, he puts his hands in a heart shape for @theundeadgospel - giving them a warm welcome. he accepts the company of everyone - joyous because of the season. it was close enough to christmas, enough that he was making his appearance as santa.

[theundeadgospel]

[ Cont. ]

…

Squints.

“ I mean. I have no problem reversing roles and pegging you. I am sure I can manage not splitting you in half. “

TOO BOLD, BACK UP.

@mothvalentino

[theundeadgospel]

Ah, this was to be expected. Gods didn’t necessarily get along with one another — Myrkul unfortunately being one that had an ungodly amount of enemies due to his past choices in his early upbringing.

Being his champion was rewarding for the most part and Bethanne wouldn’t change a thing about that fact — but the zealot would also be bluffing if she claimed it was a walk in the park dealing with nonbelievers. Gods that were nonbelievers, well, that was an entirely different category of god dammit.

“ I would take that up with the Lord of Bones himself, not me. I am simply a messenger on the mortal plane. “

Observing and almost admiring the act of defiance, Beth cocked her head to the side to get a better glimpse of the firecraft. Necrotic eyes then venture back up to Khorne, studying his features more intently now that he got her full attention.

“ Are you the reason behind the war chant I often hear in these desolate lands? ‘Skulls for the skull god’? Who is ‘blood for the blood god’? Unless they both pertain to you?

The men that scream these sayings are lively and boisterous. It almost makes me want to join in on the entertainment. “

" When next you pray to your Lord of Bones, tell him that every skull upon every neck is mine to claim. My trophy to take, for I am the King of Skulls and I will not tolerate lesser, mortal-gods encroaching upon my territory."

The Blood God rumbles his challenge to Myrkul's faithful, irate that something mortal-spawned could be so audacious. It was they, the Chaos Gods, who raised men and women up beyond the weak skin they were born into. By right of unmatched might, it was the Ruinous Powers who warped and shaped that skin as they please!

Khorne stomps a hoof in anger and jagged veins of fire snake out from where his cloves impact the ground. His nostrils flare and smoke rises from them like the most furious of red dragons.

" You are in the presence of a true god, Bone-Thrall. The true Lord of Bones."

@theundeadgospel / 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘.

[theundeadgospel]

somehow none of my party caught this but I mentioned it yesterday and for those who haven’t caught on yet here

Beth is a nosferatu, yes, but she’s purposely designed to look like a gargoyle. This intertwines with her undead status, knighthood, and personality.

Gargoyles are associated with things that are unnatural, ugly, or distorted, which usually startles or scares those who look upon them. Their purpose is to ward off evil spirits, serving as the guardian of the buildings they occupy and protecting those inside. They teach people the ability to see through the mask of things, learning to look outside the lines and beyond the veil of superficiality. This also falls into the realm of don’t judge a book by its cover (most people on first meeting think it’s just some scary monster).

Beth is the gargoyle of her party and activist endeavor, shielding them from evil and threats wherever they go. Her intimidation is high and she does scare folks who see her for the first time, though she usually means no harm and ignores their judgement to protect them from harm anyway.