*the black marble throne, or so long empty, is once again occupied. faeries and vampires, gypsies and lycans, ghosts, shadows, and half beings gather around, watching the assemblage with interest and longing. a white furred male sits in the throne, curled childlike in the seat, a tattered black cloak wrapped around him* Greetings my friends. it has been long since i have sat on my throne. the warm spring of my time as a young roleplayer has gone, and now the winter of disinterest is fading. summer is coming my children, and with it, this rose shall once again bloom forth. my gift lies not in sciences and the modern times. /I will not pit my skills against those of gamemasters of sci fi or modern games. my gift is fantasy. stories of the everdancing fey, the immortal vampires, the fair and lovely gypsies, these are the tales i tell. i am silvertongue, dreamweaver, lie lover, trickster. stories bubble forth from my brain, and now the frost is gone. i am back my friends. spread it through the threads, like an eager spider. gather round my children, we have some golden tales to spin.
My first story is a dive back into the sites longest running rp, covens, bloodlines, and roses. this will be a new vision of our old characters. untold stories will be told, backstories will be written and read, connections and bonds will be forged and reforged. i await my fledglings return. when they come to me, the story will begin anew.
