Fabric rips between sight, mind, and screen as Painlord enters the thread.
"I summon myself from the aether and into this thread! Let the circuits tremble and the pixels quake at my coming!" Painlord dusts himself off and removes he silver cord attached at the waist. He shudders to think what would become of him should that special silver cord ever be cut by a special blade.
"Age of Ashes, eh? This new edition and rules are new to me. They vex and confound me still. Though I will make many mistakes and do many a foolish deed, nonetheless, I shall ponder the depths of my black soul and darkest intents for a character worthy of this group." Painlord looks around the room, meeting the eye of each to ensure his sincerity.
Painlord creates a large stone from the aether and places it near him. Painlord dusts off the rock, has a sit, and begins to ponder. His chin rests upon this clenched fist and that upon a bowed elbow upon knee. In his mind, he creates worlds within worlds, scouring for just the right mortal's essence to bring to life within Age of Ashes.