<span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-weight: bold">!WARNING!: READ THIS SPOILER BEFORE PROCEEDING FURTHER!</span></span></span></span><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #00BF00">After you've read the rules below, and you've express an interest in joining, please <span style="font-style: italic">private message</span> / <span style="font-style: italic">PM</span> "<span style="text-decoration: underline">PoltergeistPriest</span>". Also if you have any suggestions, kinks you desire to play out or questions, please don't hesitate to write out in your message "<span style="text-decoration: underline">PoltergeistPriest</span>" will response to your message <span style="font-style: italic">asap</span>!</span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">I.</span> First and foremost, only a serious, dedicated and experienced literate role-players that can manage both decent spelling and grammar – are <span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-style: italic">allowed</span></span> to join this role-play!<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">II.</span> It is <span style="font-weight: bold">Quality</span> over <span style="font-style: italic">quantity</span>! Post a <span style="font-style: italic">minimum</span> of “<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">three-four(<span style="font-style: italic">or long(er)</span>) descriptive paragraphs</span></span>”, however it is understandable if someone has writer's block, smaller posts that aren't long can be tolerated <span style="font-style: italic">for a little while</span>, <span style="font-style: italic">just don't end up making it a habit</span>.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">III.</span> Communication is utterly important to a successful role-play, discussing plot, conflict, characters and anything else, please <span style="font-style: italic">private message</span> / <span style="font-style: italic">PM</span> your fellow role-player!<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">V.</span> Going absent for a certain amount of time, please inform your fellow role-player by <span style="font-style: italic">private message</span> / <span style="font-style: italic">PM</span> it is understandable that people can't dedicate their lives to a computer 24/7, but please don't just disappear.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">VI.</span> Quitting the role-play? The please inform your fellow role-player that you'll be abandoning this particular role-play threw <span style="font-style: italic">private message</span> / <span style="font-style: italic">PM</span> but please don't just disappear.</div></div></div><br/>Above the skies were practically the same monochrome grey as it always had been, although sometimes the sky might appear visibly more darker or lighter. For the notion of daytime and nighttime didn't exist in the realm, it never had. Caressed by the dense fog, creeping slowly and solemn like some white phantom, the landscape was a vast expanse of swampy terrain, that stretched far and wide, seemingly endless. The dying civilizations of man were few and far between in the gloomy landscape, disorganized, fearful, corrupted and leaderless, they were merely a small insignificance shadow to what it once was. All that remained of the prosperous nations of man were crumbling ruins and mangled structures that laid scattered throughout the land. Whatever became the downfall of the thriving civilization was still debatable and mysterious. Some suggested it was a war they brought among themselves, others suggested it was some deathly technology they accidentally unleashed – but the scrolls written by long dead preachers told of another story, a different story between the ignorance of men that turn a generous god towards madness.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">This realm was the home to the god Ecclesiastes, and when men suddenly appeared, men were frightful, insignificant and dying. Ecclesiastes pitied the dying men, so he took it upon himself to create a realm that would nourish and restore life to man. He drenched the plain with water, and vegetation and wildlife quickly became abundant. He quenched man's thirst and hungry and filling him with life.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Men were thankful to Ecclesiastes, and presented beautiful structures that were construed in his honor, and he was also bestowed with comforts. Attended by men from his shrines, temples and churches, Ecclesiastes watch with interest as the numbers of men grew. Little did he realized they had also come more bold. Overtime men built themselves a nation of prosperous cities, here they became ignorant, believing they could do anything. Ecclesiastes was abandoned, his comforts forgotten, and his beautiful structures fell into ruins.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Worried, men knew the realm would never be truly theirs for this was the realm and home of Ecclesiastes. It was a home he'd simply offered to them to stay in, until he decided to send them away. So men planned to contain Ecclesiastes in a body of a human preacher that they plucked from the grave. Eventually men were confronted by Ecclesiastes, who had become confused and frustrated as to why he was abandoned and forgotten. He demanded that his shrines, temples and churches were to be restored, and for him to be given his attendants and comforts back. When Ecclesiastes became too frightening, men bounded the god into the body of the preacher. Before his containment, Ecclesiastes withdrew some of his power from the realm, and the once abundant swamp begun to shrivel. As man erupted into panic and chaos, Ecclesiastes fled into the swamp and seemingly vanished. Leaving behind men to die in his gloomy realm.</span>”<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">But that was only a nearly forgotten legend</span>...however some men still remember Ecclesiastes, and either felt sorry for him, or remained fearful of him.<br/><br/>Situated between a pair of submerged shrines and a temple that silhouetted in the background, was the most isolated cemetery of this section of the swamp. The burial site had been repeatedly violated over the course of many generations of grave robbers. Unfortunate individuals digging up the dead for anything of value to trade in for a meager meal. Visiting the violated grave site today, was a husband and wife armed with rusted hoes and pistols.<br/><br/>“Help me dig deeper here.” the wife croaked, using a battered rusty hoe she dug up the surrounding soil an unmarked gravestone.<br/><br/>“People have already dug there recently, idiot” leaning against the wooden handle of his hoe, the husband lazily watched his female companion.<br/><br/>The man shrugged for no practically reason as he lit a cigarette and held it between chapped lips. While avoiding the thick puddles of mud, he strode between his wife and the unmarked burial site. The women stepped aside for her husband as he drove the blade of his hoe into the soggy ground. Grunting loudly, he begun tossing muddy grave soil over his leg.<br/><br/>An unnatural chill crept up from behind the grave robbers, marshy waters bubbled along the surface in the background, and a foul odor rose up within the upturned grave soil. Scent wafting their way upwards, and instead of getting less smelly the stench intensified quickly. The women covered her nose and expressed a sound in disgust. The man laughed at her, as he continued to dig.<br/><br/>“It stinks especially bad here doesn't it.”<br/><br/>“I think I'm going to be sick.”<br/><br/>“Damn it women, move away, don't you dare vomit on me!” the man cursed, flinging the remains of his cigarette as he kept on digging.<br/><br/>Suddenly a blood curdling scream erupted across the swamplands, the women back white as she jerked backward in horror. The man had dropped his hoe, and arising from beneath the disturbed grave soil extended a white hand adorning claw-like fingernails. Rotting black fabric of a cuff wrapped around the wrist of the hand that crushed down at the wrist bone of the man's forearm.<br/><br/>Panicking, the women pulled out her pistol before rushing in. Standing close until they were practically shoulder to shoulder, she aimed her firearm at the outstretched hand that was holding down her husband. She then pulled the trigger of the pistol, shooting an array of bullets that penetrated the white hand. It released the man, and the hand dragged itself back into the ground, retreating.<br/><br/>Falling onto his backside the man cradled his bloodied forearm against his chest while rocking himself back and forth writhing in agony. His wife struggled to get him onto his feet. “Hurry, hurry get up, we need to leave now!” she forced her husband onto his feet, before both of them fled the scene horrified. The pair quickly departed into the depth of the dense fog. Leaving the violated grave site far behind them, and to never to return.<br/><br/>═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════<br/><br/>Thunder trembled in the distance as it started pouring rain, and rising from beneath the depths two ghostly white hands reached out, clawing frantically at the upturned earth. Pulling close enough to touch the edges of the partially submerged gravestone, the pair of hands desperately clung onto it. With a great amount of effort it dragged the remainder of its body through the muck, and a head was hauled out. It stuttered gargled sounds as wet soil clogged the passages to its mouth and nostrils. The rest of its mud coated body pulled itself onto the violated gravestone, while choking and gasping for air.<br/><br/>Clutching desperately to his battered gravestone, as if attempting to gain some form of comfort from it. He unleashed a piercing scream of utter distress. Trembling violently as rain washed away the muck, revealing his lanky white body and a head of white hair. The remaining scraps of his decaying black robes either slipped down his naked body or had blown away with the chilled breeze. Inhaling shallow breaths through quivering lips, his eyelids shut tight, although he wasn't sleeping, eyeballs moved rapidly beneath the folds of skin. He lowered his head by his shoulder, grimacing to the throbbing pain emanated from his wrist, where the bullets had pierced him.<br/><br/>“ –  for the ignorance of – the ignorance of men –  dying men - “ he stuttered against the cold while preaching madly to himself, as the rain drenched down upon him. “ –  I offered them my home – my home – my realm – “ a great throbbing pain weight down heavily in his chest, he arched backwards painfully as he struggled to continue his mad preaching. “ –  I offered them my home –  I thought –  they repay –  they repay me with their –  their ignorance –  and this frightful human body riddle in pain – “ he suddenly found himself screaming hysterically, a long sobbing inhuman scream that called forth the arrival of something horrid and unforgiving.<br/><br/>“MY REALM SHALL WITNESS MY UNFORGIVING MADNESS!” Ecclesiastes snarled with an increasing hoarseness in his voice, he gripped intensely at the worn edges of his gravestone. The preacher then glared towards the grey skies. Horrifying bloodshot eyes that bore uneven dilated pupils, burnt intensifying as they narrowed into tiny slits.<br/><br/>Claws scrapped against the edges of his desecrated gravestone, as his hands tentatively let go. The preacher then carefully stood himself upright. Hesitant with his wobbly legs, he took four firm steps in front of him, with every step his heels sunk deeper into the usually slick muddy surface. Breathing labored as lips parted angrily, revealing a mouth of sharpen teeth that begun gritting aggressive against each other. All of a sudden the preacher violently flinched downwards in pain, his breathing already laboring became more ragged and desperate.<br/><br/>“Madness...” he labored and his face twisted with a great pain. “My unforgiving madness...my realm – my realm – my home...”