A majestic crystal model stands in the centre of the hall, its slow rotations mimicking the movement of the planes.
This majestic crystal model is a truly dazzling piece of construction, consisting of a representation of the planar system of Lusternia. In the middle is a great white sphere, in which a scale representation of the basin has been constructed, around this centre model, many other spheres revolve, all of which bear a representation of the plane they symbolise inside the glass sphere. The spheres themselves have been engraved with names and notes that detail their movement in reference to the other planes. The spheres have been mounted on shining extensions that attach to a complex mechanism that slowly revolves the many spheres. Among the spheres, many small crystals can be seen, signifying small bubbles that have broken off larger planes during creation, twirling around greater planes like little satellites. A great dark band of about an inch wide encircles the complete structure, signifying the astral rim that surrounds Lusternia's planar complex. It weighs about 500 pounds. It has the following aliases: planar, model.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
An enclosed glade. Soothing shades of blue light shimmer through the air, cast from a healing shrine of Maylea nearby. Large snowflakes fall from the heavens. Curtains of leafy vines to the northwest and southwest act as a sort of scrim, allowing those here to watch performances happening in the adjoining areas while preparing themselves to join into them, or provide musical accompaniment. Protruding tree branches act as hooks to keep costumes handy for quick changes, while hollows in the ground or in tree branches keep other items at the ready. The area is a little cramped, though not so much one couldn't do some stretches; and the close, thick overgrowth provides some shelter so sound won't carry far. Far overhead can be seen the walkways of the Spiritsingers' private quarters, the thin rails of wood swaying back and forth in the trees. A set of spectral chimes shimmers in and out of vision here. Watching you warily, a silver-furred vixen sniffs the air. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. A mature oak tree stands proudly here. You see a single exit leading southwest.
Would anyone care to share the descriptions of backstage areas of non-Hallifaxian stages?
A cluttered chamber behind the curtains.
Although this chamber is easily as spacious as the theatre room further north, various wooden constructs take up the majority of its space, ready to be pushed out and serve as stage decorations at a moments notice. A heavy curtain falls to the north, obscuring the stage and theatre opening up beyond it. Towards the back of the chamber, a second black curtain sections off a small part of the room, allowing it to be illuminated brightly with rows upon rows of candles to give the actors the best light to prepare for their performance.
Would anyone care to share the descriptions of backstage areas of non-Hallifaxian stages?
Behind the stage. The light from flickering candles is soft, barely chasing away the shadows that lurk in the cluttered corners of the backstage. Mirrored dressing tables are stained with makeup, and bits of costumery spill out of oak chests that line one wall. Numerous racks hold sumptuous articles of clothing, and a rack of immaculate shelving contain various small props. Carpetting of a deep sapphire and wooden walls painted a brilliant crimson add some warmth to the otherwise dark and cold atmosphere. A bright, resinous aroma wafts through the air, only just covering the underlying stench of death that lingers in this area.
I was going to share ours, but then it made me cringe when I saw the errors and awkward phrasing. I think it may not have been updated when the rest of the theatre was redone, because the rest is fabulous.
Thanks everyone! Here's ours, just for posterity's sake.
Behind the proscenium.
Banks of clouds roil about here. Large bundles of ropes and chains hang suspended in an incredibly
complex system of rolls, pulleys and counterweights, ready to move sets whenever required. The
surprisingly large area behind the Hallifax opera stage is full of them, allowing flexibility and
complexity in the sets used in the productions to which the opera house is home. Between the many
sets and ropes, large areas of space have been set aside for singers and actors to prepare their
entry into the stage without getting in the way of other individuals involved in the production.
I suspected this might be a tweaked version of some generic description for all backstage areas, since there's not a single piece of crystal in that room. Thinking of proposing a remodel so we have slick crystalline constructs and illusion generators instead of lame pulleys and ropes.
She is a radiant immortal and is composed entirely of water, and stands at the diminutive height of just under five feet tall. Though humanoid in form it is clear that her round and plump body greatly resembles the shape of a droplet of water as it falls from the sky, her pear-shaped torso supported by stumpy legs. A foamy fall of hair frames her heart-shaped face, cloudier than the rest of her pellucid form, and curls down her back. Her eyes are iridescent, and her facial features are almost childlike, dainty and adorable. She is wearing an oversized pair of wellington boots and a brightly coloured raincoat.
This girl is adorable. Can we just keep her as is?
Crumkane's order mob isn't allowed to eat, IIRC. /randomfact
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Crumkane's order mob isn't allowed to eat, IIRC. /randomfact
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
I'd like the latest description of Carakhan please, if anyone has it! Thanks!
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
She is a radiant immortal and possessed of an otherworldly sophistication and grace in Her posture and movements. She contemplates the world about Her with stormy, sea-green eyes set above a rounded nose and dark green lips. Kelp-brown hair has been gathered in elaborate braids about Her head while the rest has been left to tumble till Her lower back in a thick, luxurious river of silken threads. Her soft skin is a vibrant blue, a stark reminder of the deep, tumultuous sea, and glistens with the mist that embraces her refined physique.
Oh, wait, that was me. That's the Cara @Neos truly longs for though, right?
I remember that the real Carakhan, not Drokhan, had a green theme going on!
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Not requested whatsoever, but might as well archive it since I have no idea how often Yomoigu brings her out from his "magical chest of order mobs"(my term, not his).
Yiraxi (Didn't get a room description. I'm sorry. I am a horrible person.) Flicking out a long tongue of hissing flame, this copper komodo dragon is an eidolon of sinuous lines and clockwork machinery. A skeleton of glimmering gears spinning in intricate formations operate like silver and gold organs to keep her in constant, fluid motion as she crawls about on steel-clad claws. Most impressive perhaps is her tail, which doubles the span of her body in a series of shimmering copper scales. She puffs smoke through her nostrils with casual arrogance, yawning to reveal a series of jagged iron teeth that she shuts with a sudden, frightening clap. Unblinking, her eyes are sockets of metal fueled by orbs of amber flame, their piercing stare a encompassing all before her.
I like how there are clockwork mobs outside of Mag.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
What's this? Tremula's a boy? The tongues of the court will be awag!
He is a fiendish undead irontongue viscanti demigod and his eyebrows are the same golden-blonde as his hair, arched in a display of perfect elegance. A faint smirk graces his lips, which are a natural, light rose colour, two fang tips barely visible over the slightly plumper bottom one. His make-up is almost nonexistant, only faint traces of blush applied to his cheeks and eye kohl done in a frosty blue. Porcelain, doll-like skin covers his body, though it is barely visible through the everpresent, shifting miasma of Taint that clouds it from view. Seeming to originate from him, the viscous fog constantly shifts and roils, spiralling and whirling in an evershifting pattern of mystifying complexity. The only thing clearly visible at all times through the stirring black and crimson clouds are his eyes. Almond shaped, his right iris displays the full purple spectrum, a light lavender at the outside that darkens beautifully towards the deep indigo surrounding the pupil. His left irises share the colouration, the six smaller ones surrounding the larger center one in a circular pattern, a total of seven staring out in an unnerving manner. His build is petite, a faint layer of muscle on his arms and legs paired with a flat chest and stomach. He is wearing an armband depicting a crying woman, Bewitching Prayer Beads of the Enchantress, a subtly iridescent black silk satchel, an etched ruby ring, a thin opal bracelet carved with lilies, a somnolent amethyst bracelet carved with amaranths, a smooth pearl ring, an etched pearl ring, a mottled bloodstone watch, a dapper, violet-banded black felt hat, a bloodstone ring of sight, 4 simple rings of bloodstone, a crown of argent desire, the Charm of the Clangoru, a Leprechaun's Medal of Profligate Inebriation, a ruby ring carved with flames, a brooch portraying the sea battle, a gleaming gold knuckle ring bearing a dangerous talon, Wings of Wonder, a simple string of black pearl beads, the Iron Key to the Infernal Machine, a skin tight, dark shirt, a diaphanous cloak of black Delportian lace, skinny, dark trousers of a midnight hue and iron buckled ebony leather boots. His hair is cut moderately short and sticks outward in every direction, artfully spiked. Golden-blonde in hue at the roots, the colour of his hair fades to an almost iridescent, fetching ivory at the tips.
Superimposed over this location, an ethereal forest reaches up to the sky. An incredibly large, rotting log lies here, looking quite out of place amongst the clusters of brightly coloured wildflowers and tufts of tall grasses that encircle it. The collapsing log lacks roots of any sort and no evidence remains of a tree once standing within the general vicinity of the log. There certainly seems to be no logical explanation for the presence of the log, although none of the fungi now feasting on its rotting bark appears to mind.
Crumkane, Lord of Epicurean Delights says, "WAS IT INDEED ON FIRE, ERITHEYL."
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With a deep reverb, Contemptible Sutekh says, "CEASE YOUR INFERNAL ENERGY, ERITHEYL."
Comments
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Soothing shades of blue light shimmer through the air, cast from a healing shrine of Maylea nearby.
Large snowflakes fall from the heavens. Curtains of leafy vines to the northwest and southwest act
as a sort of scrim, allowing those here to watch performances happening in the adjoining areas while preparing themselves to join into them, or provide musical accompaniment. Protruding tree branches act as hooks to keep costumes handy for quick changes, while hollows in the ground or in tree branches keep other items at the ready. The area is a little cramped, though not so much one couldn't do some stretches; and the close, thick overgrowth provides some shelter so sound won't carry far. Far overhead can be seen the walkways of the Spiritsingers' private quarters, the thin rails of wood swaying back and forth in the trees. A set of spectral chimes shimmers in and out of vision here. Watching you warily, a silver-furred vixen sniffs the air. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. A mature oak tree stands proudly here.
You see a single exit leading southwest.
The light from flickering candles is soft, barely chasing away the shadows that lurk in the cluttered corners of the backstage. Mirrored dressing tables are stained with makeup, and bits of costumery spill out of oak chests that line one wall. Numerous racks hold sumptuous articles of clothing, and a rack of immaculate shelving contain various small props. Carpetting of a deep sapphire and wooden walls painted a brilliant crimson add some warmth to the otherwise dark and cold atmosphere. A bright, resinous aroma wafts through the air, only just covering the underlying stench of death that lingers in this area.
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
She is a radiant immortal and is composed entirely of water, and stands at the
diminutive height of just under five feet tall. Though humanoid in form it is
clear that her round and plump body greatly resembles the shape of a droplet of
water as it falls from the sky, her pear-shaped torso supported by stumpy legs.
A foamy fall of hair frames her heart-shaped face, cloudier than the rest of her
pellucid form, and curls down her back. Her eyes are iridescent, and her facial
features are almost childlike, dainty and adorable. She is wearing an oversized
pair of wellington boots and a brightly coloured raincoat.
This girl is adorable. Can we just keep her as is?
And it's a tae'dae.
I would like to submit a request for his desc, for reasons.
edit: also is he single? Does he like handsome Hallifaxian men? What's his favourite color?
Signature!
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
Yiraxi
(Didn't get a room description. I'm sorry. I am a horrible person.)
Flicking out a long tongue of hissing flame, this copper komodo dragon is an eidolon of sinuous lines and clockwork machinery. A skeleton of glimmering gears spinning in intricate formations operate like silver and gold organs to keep her in constant, fluid motion as she crawls about on steel-clad claws. Most impressive perhaps is her tail, which doubles the span of her body in a series of shimmering copper scales. She puffs smoke through her nostrils with casual arrogance, yawning to reveal a series of jagged iron teeth that she shuts with a sudden, frightening clap. Unblinking, her eyes are sockets of metal fueled by orbs of amber flame, their piercing stare a encompassing all before her.
He is a fiendish undead irontongue viscanti demigod and his eyebrows are the same golden-blonde as his hair, arched in a display of perfect elegance. A faint smirk graces his lips, which are a natural, light rose colour, two fang tips barely visible over the slightly plumper bottom one. His make-up is almost nonexistant, only faint traces of blush applied to his cheeks and eye kohl done in a frosty blue. Porcelain, doll-like skin covers his body, though it is barely visible through the everpresent, shifting miasma of Taint that clouds it from view. Seeming to originate from him, the viscous fog constantly shifts and roils, spiralling and whirling in an evershifting pattern of mystifying complexity. The only thing clearly visible at all times through the stirring black and crimson clouds are his eyes. Almond shaped, his right iris displays the full purple spectrum, a light lavender at the outside that darkens beautifully towards the deep indigo surrounding the pupil. His left irises share the colouration, the six smaller ones surrounding the larger center one in a circular pattern, a total of seven staring out in an unnerving manner. His build is petite, a faint layer of muscle on his arms and legs paired with a flat chest and stomach. He is wearing an armband depicting a crying woman, Bewitching Prayer Beads of the Enchantress, a subtly iridescent black silk satchel, an etched ruby ring, a thin opal bracelet carved with lilies, a somnolent amethyst bracelet carved with amaranths, a smooth pearl ring, an etched pearl ring, a mottled bloodstone watch, a dapper, violet-banded black felt hat, a bloodstone ring of sight, 4 simple rings of bloodstone, a crown of argent desire, the Charm of the Clangoru, a Leprechaun's Medal of Profligate Inebriation, a ruby ring carved with flames, a brooch portraying the sea battle, a gleaming gold knuckle ring bearing a dangerous talon, Wings of Wonder, a simple string of black pearl beads, the Iron Key to the Infernal Machine, a skin tight, dark shirt, a diaphanous cloak of black Delportian lace, skinny, dark trousers of a midnight hue and iron buckled ebony leather boots.
His hair is cut moderately short and sticks outward in every direction, artfully spiked. Golden-blonde in hue at the roots, the colour of his hair fades to an almost iridescent, fetching ivory at the tips.
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
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