EveriineWise Old Swordsbird / BrontaurIndianapolis, IN, USA
Yeah, Daraius has about the best avatar ever.
Everiine is a man, and is very manly. This MAN before you is so manly you might as well just gender bend right now, cause he's the manliest man that you ever did see. His manly shape has spurned many women and girlyer men to boughs of fainting. He stands before you in a manly manerific typical man-like outfit which is covered in his manly motto: "I am a man!"
Daraius said: You gotta risk it for the biscuit.
Pony power all the way, yo. The more Brontaurs the better.
That brief period of 'Oh, shit' when the archangels refused to die for about 3 minutes. I was not expecting that one to tank two annihilating criticals and still keep going.
Eh, mine ate 2 World-Shattering and 3 Annihilating in a row.... total count is way higher than that. >.> <.<
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
Anyone who knows what my avatar is from should note that the character it depicts is basically Lillie.
I plan on changing it soon, though, so if anyone wants the original image, here you go.
Hell yes, this was my hundredth post!
The Necromentate's mind opens to you, and a grotesque, demonic figure appears in your mind's eye, screaming in torment: "THE DEMON LORDS CAN NEVER TRULY BE KILLED - GREAT IS THEIR POWER."
You shock a platinum-coloured geomycus with tales of terror bestowed on villages who don't follow Magnagora. A platinum-coloured geomycus slaps her knee and declares that, by the gods, Ptoma Hive should follow the Grand Empire of Magnagora after all! Shouts rise up from Ptoma Hive, as its denizens loudly pledge themselves to the Grand Empire of Magnagora.
Dear awesome admin: You somehow managed to aide in the busting of my Mudlet and it crashed. You are still awesome. Please feel free to bother me again. I love you whoever you are for making my char feel so awkward.
Awesome admin interaction all through the night, and actually getting to feel useful in a big event.
The Necromentate's mind opens to you, and a grotesque, demonic figure appears in your mind's eye, screaming in torment: "THE DEMON LORDS CAN NEVER TRULY BE KILLED - GREAT IS THEIR POWER."
You shock a platinum-coloured geomycus with tales of terror bestowed on villages who don't follow Magnagora. A platinum-coloured geomycus slaps her knee and declares that, by the gods, Ptoma Hive should follow the Grand Empire of Magnagora after all! Shouts rise up from Ptoma Hive, as its denizens loudly pledge themselves to the Grand Empire of Magnagora.
Might as well post it here. I won't make any guarantees to its contents though, since it was copied manually from one journal to another (I changed the "written by" text to the original though).
EDIT: Got a better copy (the previous one was probably copied from the reading, and not from the journal). [spoiler] "The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 1)
In a spume of frothy bubbles, I stepped out of the Pool of Stars and entered the divine realm of Celestia, hurrying across the white sands towards the Gardens of the Holy Supernal Raziela. Before entering her arbors I slowed down, smoothing the irksome creases that appeared on my gown and applying some last minute blue powder to my scales.
As so I entered the gardens, gaily pushing past the glittering spheres of pink and green that bobbed pleasantly among the flowering vines. Among others who had arrived from the Holy Celestine Empire, angelic beings drifted in their gossamer robes, bare feet skimming across short blades of grass. I wondered, inappropriately, if it tickled their toes. Inhaling deeply of the rose scented air, I quickly surveyed the celebrants, wondering if I were fashionably or rudely late, hoping it was the former but, either way, I schooled my features into pleasant indifference.
"Hello, daughter," said a welcome voice behind me. I turned and greeted my father with my most charming smile and the lowering of lashes.
"You look quite smart today, Father," I replied and meant it. Though the damask of his cravat was last season, he looked quite fetching in periwinkle blue and raspberry reds. Thankfully, the cut of his suit was age appropriate and did not reveal naked elbow fins like some of the younger merian rakes sported this summer. Lanali and I could not decide whether we should be scandalized or demurely titillated by such a fashion.
"Your crowd gathered mere moments ago, Deliora," said my father, with a slight nod towards the marble tableau depicting Elohora blessing furrikin cubs. Father looked away slightly and his neck gills constricted slightly, letting me know that I was late, but then gave a half smile to indicate that still within propriety. One endeavored neither to be the first nor the last to arrive. Ah, well.
"Lord La'Saet, may I have a word?" said a stout mugwump pootling up to us. The mugwump was wearing a painfully ancient waistcoat that must have been at least five seasons out of date, and he drifted in a cloud of excessively applied cologne of cinnabar and clove.
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," I said with a small curtsy to the mugwump, who I guessed was some minister or other functionary of the Star Chamber. And with that I fled the mugwump and his scent, hoping the objectionable cologne didn't cling to me and overpower my delicately applied lavender.
With one hand languorously holding up one side of my gown and the other waving airily at the nobles who I recognized from the better houses, I veritably twirled towards my friends who still stood around the tableau. Lanali spotted me first and hailed me with a coquettish bob. She was standing between two dandies, Gradorel and Plariflore.
"Dela," Lanali breathed, "how divine of you to finally appear. We were wondering if you would make your entrance before the Supernals made theirs."
"Oh I was having a terrible time choosing which fan I should take, dear," I replied, judiciously ignoring the admonishment between her words. "I almost settled on the teal and taupe fan but in the end the cream and peach triumphed."
With practiced grace, I unhooked the fan from my belt and snapped it open in one fluid motion. Gradorel and Plariflore murmured appreciatively as it was inlaid with chips of mother of pearl in stylized patterns of floating sea fronds.
"It does look quite fetching with your gold lace gown, dear," conceded Lanali, though she had to find some criticisms and added, "though I wonder if your gown's colour washes out your complexion. You are a bit on the lighter shade of aquamarine, aren't you? Rather low tide?"
"This gown was designed by House Shakini, and Madame Shakini herself said it is quite positively the latest thing this year. By the by, you look lovely, Lana, darling. I could never pull off so bold a headdress. Feathers, la! You could be mistaken for a trill! What are they, dear? Turkey feathers?"
"Peacock, darling," said Lanali dryly but with a playful smile.
"My suit is also designed by House Shakini," jumped in Gradorel, giving us respite from our polite social sparring. "Madame Shakini said I looked jolly smashing in grey and red. What do you think, Dela?"
"Oh, indeed, Lord Lampri. Smashing," I said.
"I didn't notice the colour," said Lanali. "I couldn't take my eyes off your elbow fins to notice."
"Lana!" I said, fanning myself in mock scandalization.
"Oh you like the fins?" said Gradorel, then stuck out his elbows and flared them. In public on land!
Lanali and I squealed in embarrassment, fluttering our fans rapidly. The boys laughed at our expense but in good humour. We were saved from further mortification when several of the angelic beings raised their voices in a chorus of ascending notes. The Holy Supernals had arrived. A shimmering white portal opened and the six Holy Supernals appeared. First were Elohora and Japhiel, both resplendent in blindingly white robes, then followed by Shakiniel and Methrenton encased in gold armour. Finally, Raziela and Dumaliel descended, tossing handfuls of flowers of light at the crowd. The air gleamed clearer and brighter, if that were possible in Celestia, when in the presence of the Holy Supernals, beings of pure light and love. They drifted through the crowd, pausing to talk among the mortals, most of whom bowed deeply and kissed the hem of their garments.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 2)
The pair that glided towards us were Raziela and Dumaliel. Raziela was like a child with lovely golden curls and wearing a white pinafore bordered with colourful embroidered flowers. Dumaliel appeared a young man, just barely reaching manhood, wearing a white tunic with gold brocade and the same flowing mass of golden tresses as his sister. They passed us and Dumaliel smiled in recognition.
"Ah, my formidable merian reprobates," he laughed, a melodious tenor. "Have you learned humility yet? Or are you still as shallow as a tide pool?"
"Duma, don't be so rude," laughed Raziela.
"We strive to be worthy of the Light, Lord Dumaliel," I said, "but we are but flawed creations."
"Of course you are worthy of the Light, Lady La'Saet! I only tease!" said Dumaliel.
Raziela poked her brother affectionately. Soon, the angelic beings began their song again, and this time the Supernals raised their voices to join the choir, creating sparkles of Light that flared through the air. This was the reason we had gathered here, an event never before witnessed. The Holy Supernals of Celestia would meet the Holy Emanations of Shalimar.
Another portal opened, and out stepped the six Emanations of Shallamar. King Gorgaliel and Queen Nifilhema came first, followed by Luciphage and Baalphegar, and finally Ashtorath and Grimbach.
As the Holy Emanations resided in the divine realm of Shallamar, they could only be accessed from our sister city, Magnagora, through the Stone of Truth. Thus, most of us here had never laid eyes on them. Whereas the Holy Supernals were beings of Light, ethereal and iridescent, the Holy Emanations were no less beautiful but with jet black hair and skin the colour of dark caramel. They wore jeweled tone robes of greens and blue and reds. Unlike the Supernals, who made the atmosphere around them lighter, the Emanations made the ambience heavier, almost as if they were more real than everything around them. As the Holy Emanations broke apart and drifted toward the Holy Supernals. The pair drifting towards us were Grimbach and Ashtorath.
Strangely, everything else around us diminished when Grimbach's dark eyes rimmed with thick lashes locked onto Dumaliel's sky blue eyes. They stared intensely at each other, as though no one else was present. Just as it seemed they had frozen into statues, they began to move, drifting towards each other, their hands slowly rising in unison. When their fingertips gently brushed against each other's, they smiled, and it was like the birth of something new and pure. A pulse flowed out from them and passed through all of us who bore witness. It felt as if love itself washed through our souls.
Raziela smiled and clapped her hands, looking from one to the other, "Oh, this is true love! Oh, how happy am I for Dumaliel!"
"Do not be too happy, small Supernal," the Emanation of Ashtorath smiled sadly, "for there is a tragedy here. I do not doubt that what we witness is true love, one that I have not seen since King Gorgaliel and Queen Nifilhema gazed at each other for the first time."
The Holy Emanation of Ashtorath paused and smiled wanly, as if remembering something both beautiful and painful. Then he sighed and looked at his sibling, Grimbach, who radiated so great a joy that many of us were crying.
"Alas, we are creatures of the cosmos," said the Emanation of Ashtorath, "and we cannot leave our abodes but for short periods of time. Indeed, this meeting must end before the turn of the hour, when we must return to Shallamar."
"Oh how terrible that they have such a short time together," sighed Raziela. "The Fates are most unkind in this."
"The Fates have never been known for kindness," agreed Ashtorath.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 3)
It was a love born once in a hundred generation, magnified a thousand fold by the purity of the cosmic beings. It was a love that would inspire poets down through the ages. It was a love that the bards would sing about for eternity. It was a love the captured the hearts of every youth who ever dreamed of love, including me. I do not know how that evening ended, it was all a blur. But afterwards, we were told that the Holy Supernals of Celestia and Holy Emanations of Shallamar forbade Dumaliel and Grimbach to ever meet again, never to leave the confines of their cosmic spheres, even for the hour at a time that Ashtorath claimed would be safe. Elohora herself proclaimed their love forbidden, that to encourage them was to doom them both, better to break it off before it could further blossom.
So we came to know it as a forbidden love, one that dare not be spoken aloud. But that did not stop us from whispering about it in parlors and behind fans, beneath the crackling flames of mantel fires. Oh, if the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations only knew how late they were to try to quench the passion of Dumaliel and Grimbach, and the romance it awakened in my generation.
Eventually, I arranged to gather those who wanted the love to never be forgotten to meet in my parent's lodge in Verasavir Valley, which was seldom used as it was no longer considered fashionable to mingle with the taurian tribes who lived there. After all, Verasavir wolf fur went out of fashion three seasons ago.
Lanali, Gradorel, Plariflore and I had gathered several dozen of our dearest friends who felt the same as us. It was a lovely jaunt to Verasavir, and Plariflore even bartered one of his bottles of Ackleberry wine for a fine white wolf fur among one of the Verasavir taurian tribes.
"You never know when it might come back in fashion," he explained.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 4)
I was utterly embarrassed to find the lodge had suffered from its long vacancy. Alas, I could not have sent servants ahead to clean it up as this meeting was clandestine. But despite that, it was terribly exciting.
At the base of a hillock overlooking a small pond, the lodge was constructed of wood logs and stone pillars, giving a pleasant if prosaic appearance. It had high ceilings and the pond fed into an indoor pool that was cleverly designed to look like a grotto, and deep enough for merian lords to show off their underwater acrobatics. Even though it was embarrassingly unprepared for company, we made a party of cleaning it up. Lana, who had recently placed in the Aquamancer Academy, proved awfully good at sending jets of water from the indoor pool to scrub the floors and counters. Fortunately, Plenifore had fortified us with an entire case of Ackleberry wine, minus the one exchanged for the fur, to lift our spirits and fortify our courage.
When we finally settled the matter of housekeeping, the ladies reclined in the chaise lounge chairs around the indoor grotto, while the young lords partook of the amenities offered by the pool, a few of them splashing the ladies.
"Stop that at once, Lord Gillimore!" screamed Lanali. "I'm wearing Gloriana silk!"
So we laughed, and Lanali grinned in spite of herself, leaning over to whisper that she wished she could join the boys in the water. I privately agreed, but it had taken too long to corset myself into the little gingham milkmaid dress I was wearing.
"Let's get down to why we have gathered," I said, banging the edge of my fan against the settee next to my chaise. "Most of us have witnessed the love of Dumaliel and Grimbach, and I daresay that was a love truer than we could ever hope to understand. But the high and mighty of Celestia and Shallamar have forbidden them to even contact each other."
"Terribly unfair that!" said Plariflore, shaking his glass of Ackleberry wine vigorously, though not before draining it first.
"Well what can we do?" asked Lady Lulisai next to me.
"We must help them," said Lanali flatly.
"But how?" said Gradorel. "Storm the cosmic planes and demand justice.?"
"Don't be a dunce, Grady," I said. "We could start by offering to carry letters from one to another. Like messengers."
"Oh, how romantic!" exclaimed Lady Lulisai.
"Jolly romantic," said Plariflore. "But we can only visit Celestia. We don't have access to Shallamar."
"My father trades with the House y'Bolgari in Magnagora," said Lord Yalitine, standing up.
Oh, dear. Poor Lord Yalitine mentioned his family was in trade. We all pretended to study our drinks. Lord Yalitine blushed a deep blue when he realized what slipped out, but then hurried on.
"I know Lord y'Bolgari's son in Magnagora," he said. "A good chap who loves Lord Grimbach and wants to see right done by him. And he says he knows plenty others who agree."
"How about the Army of Love?" I suggested.
"That sounds jolly grand!" said Plariflore. "Rather gallant. And mother wanted me to join the military. Uniforms never fall out of fashion, you know."
"Well, we won't wear uniforms, Plari," I said. "Terribly noticeable when we want to be clandestine."
"Perhaps we could come up with some accessory to recognize each other?" said Lanali.
"Now, that's a fine idea!" I said.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 5)
The rest of the evening was taken to debating what accessories would best suit us. Plariflore and several of the lords wanted hats, though the ladies argued violently that hats were positively matronly this season. Lanali and I wanted fans, imagine how we could decorate them in pink hearts, but the lords would have none of it. Finally, when the discussion turned to jewelry, we were able to settle on a heart shaped red earing worn the left ear.
The next few months were an exciting time for the Army of Love. Dumaliel and Grimbach were delighted to be able to send missives to each other. Dumaliel choreographed beautiful dance routines which the messengers would perform for Grimbach. Meanwhile, Grimbach composed songs and wrote poems which we would either sing or recite to Dumaliel. It was grand fun planning rendezvouses with our counterparts in Magnagora, developing ways to surreptitiously pass the letters from one to the other.
One day, when Lanali and I visited Dumaliel in his abode, he was sitting with Raziela, who remained his staunch ally. But instead of the usual joy at receiving a letter from Grimbach, Dumaliel broke down into sobs. To see a divine being weep was asking to having burning rods thrust into one's breast. Even Raziela began to cry.
"The songs of Grimbach are so beautiful and I treasure that you mortals bring them to me," said Dumaliel, "but how can I existing knowing I will never see Grimbach again. I will never know his touch or feel his limbs entwine with mine or feel his breath against my cheek! Oh, cruel Fates!"
"Can't you just sneak into Shallamar and meet him?" Lanali asked.
"Oh, no," said Raziela glumly, "The Holy Emanations would sense him at once."
"It is all impossible," sighed Dumaliel.
"Oh, I have an idea!" I said. "What if you were to meet in the Basin of Life! You could use the Verasavir lodge!"
"Oh, that is even more dangerous!" said Raziela.
"Ashtorath said you two could leave your realms for an hour without permanent ill effects, no?" said Lanali. "What harm would it be where the meeting takes place?"
"Oh, to see Grimbach again," said Dumaliel, wiping away his tears.
"Would the other Holy Supernals sense they are gone, though?" I asked.
"No," said Dumaliel. "I can mask my own presence within the realm of Celestia. The stars know I have done it enough lately. I wouldn't be at all missed!"
"Oh, Duma!" said Raziela. "I do not think this is wise!"
"I just need to meet him once, Raz!" said Dumaliel. "Just give us one moment together, to be in each other's arms."
"Promise me you will only spend an hour outside of Celestia," said Raziela. "Promise me!"
"I promise, dearest," Dumaliel said, taking his sister's hands in his own.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 6)
When the Army of Love found out we were to arrange a tryst with the Lovers, as we now called them, there was much rejoicing, It was agreed we must be exceptionally clever to make sure no one would be the wiser. Word passed to Grimbach who reportedly was also extremely excited about the scheme. We arranged the lodge to be filled with rose petals, and we lit endless candles so the grotto glowed like a romance in some fae tale.
Dumaliel and Grimbach arrived at dusk, and to see them together made us weep with joy. Dumaliel danced wildly around Grimbach, and then they held hands while Grimbach sang a ballad to Dumaliel. The heat of their passion washed over us like waves of bliss. We left them in privacy and withdrew to an evening picnic around the pond.
The tryst ended too soon and they departed back to their cosmic abodes, melancholy replacing their joy. But this was to only be the first tryst we arranged. How could we imagine it be their only rendezvous?
At first, they met only once every month. Then it became once a week, then once a day. Finally, they decided to never return to the cosmic planes, and we were besides ourselves with happiness. Whatever ill effects it was claimed they would suffer never manifested, and we knew within our heart of hearts that true love protected them. After all, love conquers all.
Oh, what a scandal it caused when the Holy Supernals of Celestia and Holy Emanations of Shallamar discovered that the Lovers had abandoned the cosmic realms! They sent high priests and priestesses to beseech them to return, warning of terrible consequences were they to remain. But the Lovers would not be dissuaded and their cosmic brethren had no understanding what their love could inspire, for even some of the high priests and priestesses joined our cause.
As word spread further among the Empire, supplicants began pilgrimages to the Lodge of the Lovers. Trill artists from Hallifax, their wings dyed in purple and reds. Dracnari philosophers, their long dun robes sashed with red. Orclachi sculptors and mugwumpi poets. Even from the forests came tae'dae bards and elfen troubadours. In the center of it all, the Lovers held court, greeting each supplicant beneath a pavilion of silk, for the lodge was not large enough contain the numbers of new arrivals.
Throughout it all, the Holy Supernals brought grievances to the Holy Celestine Empire at the capital of Celest, City of Light. The Holy Emanations did likewise through the nexus within Magnagora, City of Truth. But nothing could stop the Army of Love, for however much they tried to curb the swelling numbers, we grew and grew, first as a trickle and then as a torrent.
With each new arrival, Verasavir Valley became the new epicenter of culture within the Basin of Life, much to the chagrin of the native taurian tribes there. But even they enjoyed such art as had never before been seen, the songs of the Lovers played day and night, and dancers danced and plays were performed. We were the cultural apex of an age.
After the Lovers themselves held court among the supplicants, they returned to the Lodge often bringing trinkets and artwork. One time Dumaliel held a small cube which glimmered and pulsed with irregular flares of light.
"What is that, my Lord Dumaliel," I asked, sporting that day a high waisted dress and a modestly demure chapeau of cockle shells and pearls.
"Oh we're not sure what this is," said Dumaliel. "One of the pilgrims from the Skarch Desert brought it to us. Honestly, it was not that pretty so we encased it in this clever box, which also helps contain its power within."
Dumaliel held it out for a moment. Grimbach also touched it with a finger.
"We think it could be alive, Dela," said Grimbach to me. "We often hear its mind. It thinks we are a dream. What a funny old thing."
"Sometimes it speak to us," added Dumaliel, "and we can even sense its thoughts. We think it is some great sleeping being, though it thinks we are hallucinations. Once it called us half formeds and then at other times abominations. Usually, it just thinks we are some fever dream and falls silent."
"You hold on to it, Dela. Our gift to you."
Of course, I never heard the cube speak, though sometimes I dreamt of a one armed man wreathed in flames, seated with his back to me. I did not care for the dreams.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 7)
The Holy Supernals forbade mortals to have any contact with the Lovers, but there was no way they were able to enforce it. We flourished under the vibrant beauty of true love. Oh, it was clear to us when Empress Inalai III threatened us with ostracization from Celest that it was all part of some political machinations. How could they not see that what we did we did for true love!
The Empress even sent a squad of paladins to protect us from ourselves. Imagine how utterly rude was that! I But I dressed in a simple tunic that a farmer might wear, though tastefully striped in hues of green and teal, and matched it with a floppy hat, and then visited a promontory upstream from a little brook where the paladins camped. There, I dumped a few barrels of hemlock branches that we had earlier gathered into the stream. I admired the hemlock leaves as they floated in the water, quite prettily lacy and determined I simply must have a gown with those patterns.
Fortunately, the paladins quickly left, except for those who remained in their graves.
It was terribly awful when the holy Celestine Empire decided to make war upon the Lovers. Who could believe such stupidity? But it became terribly exciting when we got to design uniforms for the troops. Gold epaulettes, brass buttons and flower embossed armour, all ruby gilt and polished to shine as brightly as the sun.
But even though our armour was indubitably more fashionable than the black iron plate of the ur'guard or the slightly more attractive gold armour of the paladins, we apparently suffered some sort of military setback.
"Jolly unfair of them," said Plenifore, who was one of our generals now, and was covered with medals we designed for him. Medals are ever so decorative.
When the unloved, as we called our enemies, descended on us, empowered by the Emanations and Supernals, the Lovers decided to retreat to the heavens where they could not be defeated, they said it was to protect us, and of course that must be true, they were so pure and right.
Before they left, they kissed the brows of their closest followers. Of course, this included myself. As their lips touched our brows, a red mark was left behind. I had two such marks, one from each Lover, garnering me some status. The Lovers then lifted into the air, surrounded by bands of red flames. When they reached the heavens, they almost disappeared into the air as small pricks of light, but then they flared and so was born the Red Star that would forever be a beacon in the heavens for all who wished to know true love. Whenever we were unsure, we could look up at the Red Star and feel the power of the Lovers, the marks on our brows glowing and reminding us that we would forever walk in their grace.
The War of the Lovers became most annoyingly drawn out. Our numbers ever grew, for the Red Star would continue to reach into the hearts of many who looked upon it. The Lodge of the Lovers became our headquarters and we were quite successful in many campaigns. Alas, however, eventually the Holy Celestine Empire turned its entire might upon us, empowered by the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 8)
Eventually, the Army of Love was defeated and the Lodge of the Lovers overwhelmed by the odious combined armies of the Empire. However, I knew that no matter what they did to us, the Lovers would shine overhead through the Red Star and in time we would have numbers again to rise up and bring the Empire to its knees.
The Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations had reached some grave decision and declared they would manifest in the Basin of Life to set matters right. How odious were these so-called holy beings! Unfortunately, I was locked in a room in the Lodge at that time but it did not stop me from railing against the injustice.
When the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations appeared, I was visited by Raziela of Celestia and Queen Nifilhema of Shallamar. They requested to witness the most loyal of the Lovers' followers. Obviously it would be me.
"She's quite mad," said the guard who opened the door and let Raziela and queen Nifilhema glide in. I chose to ignore the simpleton's remarks.
The two divine beings circled me, looking at the two red marks on my brow, gazing about my room. Though I must admit I was somewhat uneasy in their presence, I managed to remain poised and dignified.
"I am sorry, Lady Deliora La'Saet," said Raziela softly. "I know you believe what you did you did to protect true love, but you must know hundreds of innocents lie dead because of what Dumaliel and Grimbach have become."
"I know nothing of the sort," I replied easily. "I only know that they only wished to love, and they remain above us to show us their love. And true love will always win in the end! The Red Star will always show us the way."
"Oh, dear child," said Queen Nifilhema, shaking her loftily coifed head. "You are blinded to the truth. But the Red Star will not be here for long. It will burn."
"What?" I asked.
"It is why the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations have gathered here," said Raziela. "We will perform a rite and the Red Star will be enveloped in flames and pushed away from the First World, until it will pass beyond all known realms and then pass on into the Void where it will be lost forever."
The words of Raziela stunned me, and I could only stare at her as she began to cry, her small soft hands covering her eyes. Queen Nifilhema bowed her head and laid her own long fingered hand on Raziela's shoulder. She then looked up at me and I saw that tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.
"We do not want this for them," said Queen Nifilhema. "We love them more than you could imagine, child, and not because we have to as you do. They are our siblings and serving this sentence on them is like carving out pieces of our own spirits."
"Then do not do it!" I cried.
"We cannot stop it," said Raziela. "Their power is too great and their hold on mortals like yourself too strong. Elohora and Gorgaliel are even afraid that striking against the Red Star and sending it to the Void will not be enough, that the parasitic hold on mortals will draw them back."
"So they will perform the Eternal Binding," whispered Queen Nifilhema. "From our own essence, we will work a rite so hideous in its strength that we will be weakened for a hundred years. A presence will rise up that will weave a spell of forgetfulness around any who even think of Dumaliel and Grimbach. Further, those who might prove immune to the spell will even then not be able to speak their names."
"Oh, it is even more terrible than that!" said Raziela. "This working will seek to destroy anything that could indicate that Dumaliel and Grimbach even existed! All works of art, all songs, all books, anything with their names or images will be destroyed."
"The Eternal Binding will even bind us and all divine beings," said Queen Nifilhema. "Though I may remember my brother, I will not be able to speak his name or even talk about him."
"No!" I screamed. "Do not do this! I beg of you!"
"It is too late," said Raziela, looking furtively out the window. "Even now, we are being called."
"You have something," said Queen Nifilhema. "An artifact that they gave to you, a cube of power, that was said to speak. May we see it? There may be something we can do."
I knew of the cube they spoke of, the one that gave me strange dreams of a one-armed man bathed in flames, with his back always towards me. I took it from my bureau and handed it to Queen Niflilhema. She turned it over in her hands several times, then nodded at Raziela.
"This is something much more than what it appears," said Queen Nifilhema. "It is a small nexus of power itself, but tying together perhaps infinite number of dimensions. I could only guess what the being is that is trapped within but one thing is certain. The focal point of this nexus is the First World itself. If we can get this artifact to Dumaliel and Grimbach, perhaps it will act as a tether and stop them from being banished to the Void. Perhaps they will just hover beyond our perception."
"Would it draw them back, though?" asked Raziela.
"I do not know," said Nifilhema, pressing her lips together. "I would like to consult with Baalphegar and Japhiel but they would forbid us from making the attempt either way. Make a decision, little Supernal, do we do this thing? To protect them from the Void? But risk having them return?"
"Please, Lady Raziela," I said, falling to my knees. "I beg of you! You must help the Lovers!"
"Yes," said Raziela. "Yes, I must help."
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 9)
Then there, in my chamber in the Lodge of the Lovers where I was held prisoner, the Holy Emanation of Queen Nifilhema of Shallamar and the Holy Supernal of Raziela of Celestia performed a quiet ritual that sent the small little cube to the Red Star. They both looked troubled after they did this but I promised I would never tell. I just knew that even if they burned the star and sent it away, that it would come back to us. Never underestimate the power of love.
And so it came to pass that the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations did burn the Red Star which hung in the heavens for three days before suddenly disappearing into the darkness of night. The Eternal Binding was even more terrible. The odious presence that was created erased all memory of the Lovers and destroyed all works of both artists and scholars that held their names or images. Even I could not stand against its ravishings.
Eventually, I was let out of my prison, for no one could quite remember why I was there. There was some memory of a Burning Star and that a war was waged under it, but even that too became a footnote in the histories. However, I did not forget. I knew that the Lovers would return. They must return, for true love cannot be banished!
Months passed by and I stayed in the Lodge of the Lovers, for where else could I go? Then one day, Lanali paid me a visit. The Lodge had certainly seen better days, but I managed to maintain it enough, as one never knew when one might have an unexpected guest, after all. Thus, Lanali was treated to great displays of dried thistle artfully formed and decorated with bits of bone fragments I had procured from nearby graves, which were quite plentiful around the Lodge. Each piece of bone was tied to a thistle branch in elaborate bows which I had created from materials found in said graves. Honestly, such treasure was literally lying around. The indoor grotto was now quite outdoors, the roof having fallen in, but I thought an outdoor pool much more festive, adding to a picturesque atmosphere to the old lodge. I floated bits of colourful eggshells in the waters, which were unfortunately still and low, but the clouds of mosquitoes over it only added to the ambience, certainly an effect the better families might appreciate.
When Lanali arrived, I was wearing a gown of simple muslin, cut modestly high waisted, but decorated in a most remarkable fashion which I designed myself. Why bother with flower prints when I could sew actual flowers onto the fabric! It was simply a revelation. I even sewed a few frogs and starlings onto the gown, adding to the whimsical embellishment. My hat too was hand crafted, from bone and fins, and dyed with red berry. Being far from the city, I was without cosmetics but I rouged my cheeks with red mud and kohled my eyes with charcoal, also in abundance in the Lodge of the Lovers.
Lanali must have been quite impressed by finding the grandiose situation of my circumstance. She stood before me in awe, her mouth actually hanging open. I paused before her to let her drink in my fashion, though did not want her to think I was vain by posing overly long, I inclined my head politely and opened the door to gesture that she may enter. I was pleased she had knocked at the door and not rudely walked around it, as walls had inconveniently collapsed.
"Oh, Dela," she said, her eyes filling with tears. Was she so overtaken with the beauty of the Lodge? Well, how could one blame her for that, but how terribly embarrassing for both of us that she would weep for no good reason, so I politely looked away.
"How are you, Dela?" she asked, which was terribly rude to direct questions to someone who had her tongue removed from her head by the Presence. I remained with my eyes turned away from her direction, though I did glance at her from the side.
"Oh, forgive me," she said. "I forgot that you were one of the few immune from the Binding."
I sat down and folded my hands on my lap, and looked directly at her and nodded for her to continue. Lanali only wringed her hands and sniffled. Did she not bring a handkerchief? My how far she had fallen.
"I'm not sure to envy you or not, Dela," she finally said, pacing back and forth. "I can barely remember what their voices sound like, much less what they looked like."
There was no need to say who they were. Dumaliel and Grimbach! How I wanted to sing their names to the heavens!
"You know your father would have you come back," said Lanali. "No one blames you for what happened. Come back to Celest, dearest."
I stood up sharply and gave her a simply scathing look. Leave? Was she mad? What would the Lovers think of me when they returned, if I were not here to greet them?
Lanali rightfully quailed and then choked back sobs. Really! How inappropriate. She finally backed away from me, stopping at the door to look at me again in an overly emotional gaze.
"I think I'll tell your father that you are happy. At least you seem improbably so. Perhaps that is the true gift they gave you, however unintentional."
I smiled at her, for certainly I was happy. Why would I not be? Lanali smiled back at me and nodded her head. She departed leaving behind a basket of food. Really, did she think I was a peasant? I would much rather have had a bolt of silk or even some linen. Besides, the taurians supplied me with as much food as I wanted. I visited their tribes several times before, and remarkably they all disappeared into their huts when I entered. I assume they did not know how to behave before a lady. I helped myself to their stew pots, and eventually they began sending servants to attend me, dropping off food at my door and then dashing away before I could even give them a gratuity. Ah, good domestic help is hard to find in the countryside.
When night falls, I swim in the grotto, floating on my back and looking up through the open roof and search the night sky for a sign that the Red Star will return. [/spoiler]
I'm a bit disappointed that rather than talk with Dumaliel and Grimbach, it was decided to instantly kill them without a conversation, which is a bummer.
Overall the lore was pretty awesome, Was really great,
The ending was a bit disappointing due to certain people's bloodlust (I'm looking at you @Zyphora)
Ever since the celestial beings started being enraptured by the star, I'd been RPing Parua as being affected by it... and its all over and I DIDNT GET TO DO ANYTHING THAT I WANTED TO
/cry
A whisper from the trees and a frosty presence tells you, secretly, "But you are strong, little
flower, and wise." The voice shifts and expands, becoming more real. "And everything you just said
in the ritual made me feel safer. You should, too."
That unique moment when you wake up at 4am, realizing you had explained IG your religious Tenets concisely but completely bollocks saving them anywhere before turning off your computer...
@Maligorn pleeeeeease tell me you saved my teahouse spiel T.=.T
... also what update to Android keyboard/OS blanking broke my ability to write posts outside this bloody HTML box
.oO---~---Oo.
"Perfect. Please move quickly to the next post, as the effects of
prolonged exposure to the signature are not part of this test."
Might as well post it here. I won't make any guarantees to its contents though, since it was copied manually from one journal to another (I changed the "written by" text to the original though).
EDIT: Got a better copy (the previous one was probably copied from the reading, and not from the journal). [spoiler] "The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 1)
In a spume of frothy bubbles, I stepped out of the Pool of Stars and entered the divine realm of Celestia, hurrying across the white sands towards the Gardens of the Holy Supernal Raziela. Before entering her arbors I slowed down, smoothing the irksome creases that appeared on my gown and applying some last minute blue powder to my scales.
As so I entered the gardens, gaily pushing past the glittering spheres of pink and green that bobbed pleasantly among the flowering vines. Among others who had arrived from the Holy Celestine Empire, angelic beings drifted in their gossamer robes, bare feet skimming across short blades of grass. I wondered, inappropriately, if it tickled their toes. Inhaling deeply of the rose scented air, I quickly surveyed the celebrants, wondering if I were fashionably or rudely late, hoping it was the former but, either way, I schooled my features into pleasant indifference.
"Hello, daughter," said a welcome voice behind me. I turned and greeted my father with my most charming smile and the lowering of lashes.
"You look quite smart today, Father," I replied and meant it. Though the damask of his cravat was last season, he looked quite fetching in periwinkle blue and raspberry reds. Thankfully, the cut of his suit was age appropriate and did not reveal naked elbow fins like some of the younger merian rakes sported this summer. Lanali and I could not decide whether we should be scandalized or demurely titillated by such a fashion.
"Your crowd gathered mere moments ago, Deliora," said my father, with a slight nod towards the marble tableau depicting Elohora blessing furrikin cubs. Father looked away slightly and his neck gills constricted slightly, letting me know that I was late, but then gave a half smile to indicate that still within propriety. One endeavored neither to be the first nor the last to arrive. Ah, well.
"Lord La'Saet, may I have a word?" said a stout mugwump pootling up to us. The mugwump was wearing a painfully ancient waistcoat that must have been at least five seasons out of date, and he drifted in a cloud of excessively applied cologne of cinnabar and clove.
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," I said with a small curtsy to the mugwump, who I guessed was some minister or other functionary of the Star Chamber. And with that I fled the mugwump and his scent, hoping the objectionable cologne didn't cling to me and overpower my delicately applied lavender.
With one hand languorously holding up one side of my gown and the other waving airily at the nobles who I recognized from the better houses, I veritably twirled towards my friends who still stood around the tableau. Lanali spotted me first and hailed me with a coquettish bob. She was standing between two dandies, Gradorel and Plariflore.
"Dela," Lanali breathed, "how divine of you to finally appear. We were wondering if you would make your entrance before the Supernals made theirs."
"Oh I was having a terrible time choosing which fan I should take, dear," I replied, judiciously ignoring the admonishment between her words. "I almost settled on the teal and taupe fan but in the end the cream and peach triumphed."
With practiced grace, I unhooked the fan from my belt and snapped it open in one fluid motion. Gradorel and Plariflore murmured appreciatively as it was inlaid with chips of mother of pearl in stylized patterns of floating sea fronds.
"It does look quite fetching with your gold lace gown, dear," conceded Lanali, though she had to find some criticisms and added, "though I wonder if your gown's colour washes out your complexion. You are a bit on the lighter shade of aquamarine, aren't you? Rather low tide?"
"This gown was designed by House Shakini, and Madame Shakini herself said it is quite positively the latest thing this year. By the by, you look lovely, Lana, darling. I could never pull off so bold a headdress. Feathers, la! You could be mistaken for a trill! What are they, dear? Turkey feathers?"
"Peacock, darling," said Lanali dryly but with a playful smile.
"My suit is also designed by House Shakini," jumped in Gradorel, giving us respite from our polite social sparring. "Madame Shakini said I looked jolly smashing in grey and red. What do you think, Dela?"
"Oh, indeed, Lord Lampri. Smashing," I said.
"I didn't notice the colour," said Lanali. "I couldn't take my eyes off your elbow fins to notice."
"Lana!" I said, fanning myself in mock scandalization.
"Oh you like the fins?" said Gradorel, then stuck out his elbows and flared them. In public on land!
Lanali and I squealed in embarrassment, fluttering our fans rapidly. The boys laughed at our expense but in good humour. We were saved from further mortification when several of the angelic beings raised their voices in a chorus of ascending notes. The Holy Supernals had arrived. A shimmering white portal opened and the six Holy Supernals appeared. First were Elohora and Japhiel, both resplendent in blindingly white robes, then followed by Shakiniel and Methrenton encased in gold armour. Finally, Raziela and Dumaliel descended, tossing handfuls of flowers of light at the crowd. The air gleamed clearer and brighter, if that were possible in Celestia, when in the presence of the Holy Supernals, beings of pure light and love. They drifted through the crowd, pausing to talk among the mortals, most of whom bowed deeply and kissed the hem of their garments.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 2)
The pair that glided towards us were Raziela and Dumaliel. Raziela was like a child with lovely golden curls and wearing a white pinafore bordered with colourful embroidered flowers. Dumaliel appeared a young man, just barely reaching manhood, wearing a white tunic with gold brocade and the same flowing mass of golden tresses as his sister. They passed us and Dumaliel smiled in recognition.
"Ah, my formidable merian reprobates," he laughed, a melodious tenor. "Have you learned humility yet? Or are you still as shallow as a tide pool?"
"Duma, don't be so rude," laughed Raziela.
"We strive to be worthy of the Light, Lord Dumaliel," I said, "but we are but flawed creations."
"Of course you are worthy of the Light, Lady La'Saet! I only tease!" said Dumaliel.
Raziela poked her brother affectionately. Soon, the angelic beings began their song again, and this time the Supernals raised their voices to join the choir, creating sparkles of Light that flared through the air. This was the reason we had gathered here, an event never before witnessed. The Holy Supernals of Celestia would meet the Holy Emanations of Shalimar.
Another portal opened, and out stepped the six Emanations of Shallamar. King Gorgaliel and Queen Nifilhema came first, followed by Luciphage and Baalphegar, and finally Ashtorath and Grimbach.
As the Holy Emanations resided in the divine realm of Shallamar, they could only be accessed from our sister city, Magnagora, through the Stone of Truth. Thus, most of us here had never laid eyes on them. Whereas the Holy Supernals were beings of Light, ethereal and iridescent, the Holy Emanations were no less beautiful but with jet black hair and skin the colour of dark caramel. They wore jeweled tone robes of greens and blue and reds. Unlike the Supernals, who made the atmosphere around them lighter, the Emanations made the ambience heavier, almost as if they were more real than everything around them. As the Holy Emanations broke apart and drifted toward the Holy Supernals. The pair drifting towards us were Grimbach and Ashtorath.
Strangely, everything else around us diminished when Grimbach's dark eyes rimmed with thick lashes locked onto Dumaliel's sky blue eyes. They stared intensely at each other, as though no one else was present. Just as it seemed they had frozen into statues, they began to move, drifting towards each other, their hands slowly rising in unison. When their fingertips gently brushed against each other's, they smiled, and it was like the birth of something new and pure. A pulse flowed out from them and passed through all of us who bore witness. It felt as if love itself washed through our souls.
Raziela smiled and clapped her hands, looking from one to the other, "Oh, this is true love! Oh, how happy am I for Dumaliel!"
"Do not be too happy, small Supernal," the Emanation of Ashtorath smiled sadly, "for there is a tragedy here. I do not doubt that what we witness is true love, one that I have not seen since King Gorgaliel and Queen Nifilhema gazed at each other for the first time."
The Holy Emanation of Ashtorath paused and smiled wanly, as if remembering something both beautiful and painful. Then he sighed and looked at his sibling, Grimbach, who radiated so great a joy that many of us were crying.
"Alas, we are creatures of the cosmos," said the Emanation of Ashtorath, "and we cannot leave our abodes but for short periods of time. Indeed, this meeting must end before the turn of the hour, when we must return to Shallamar."
"Oh how terrible that they have such a short time together," sighed Raziela. "The Fates are most unkind in this."
"The Fates have never been known for kindness," agreed Ashtorath.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 3)
It was a love born once in a hundred generation, magnified a thousand fold by the purity of the cosmic beings. It was a love that would inspire poets down through the ages. It was a love that the bards would sing about for eternity. It was a love the captured the hearts of every youth who ever dreamed of love, including me. I do not know how that evening ended, it was all a blur. But afterwards, we were told that the Holy Supernals of Celestia and Holy Emanations of Shallamar forbade Dumaliel and Grimbach to ever meet again, never to leave the confines of their cosmic spheres, even for the hour at a time that Ashtorath claimed would be safe. Elohora herself proclaimed their love forbidden, that to encourage them was to doom them both, better to break it off before it could further blossom.
So we came to know it as a forbidden love, one that dare not be spoken aloud. But that did not stop us from whispering about it in parlors and behind fans, beneath the crackling flames of mantel fires. Oh, if the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations only knew how late they were to try to quench the passion of Dumaliel and Grimbach, and the romance it awakened in my generation.
Eventually, I arranged to gather those who wanted the love to never be forgotten to meet in my parent's lodge in Verasavir Valley, which was seldom used as it was no longer considered fashionable to mingle with the taurian tribes who lived there. After all, Verasavir wolf fur went out of fashion three seasons ago.
Lanali, Gradorel, Plariflore and I had gathered several dozen of our dearest friends who felt the same as us. It was a lovely jaunt to Verasavir, and Plariflore even bartered one of his bottles of Ackleberry wine for a fine white wolf fur among one of the Verasavir taurian tribes.
"You never know when it might come back in fashion," he explained.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 4)
I was utterly embarrassed to find the lodge had suffered from its long vacancy. Alas, I could not have sent servants ahead to clean it up as this meeting was clandestine. But despite that, it was terribly exciting.
At the base of a hillock overlooking a small pond, the lodge was constructed of wood logs and stone pillars, giving a pleasant if prosaic appearance. It had high ceilings and the pond fed into an indoor pool that was cleverly designed to look like a grotto, and deep enough for merian lords to show off their underwater acrobatics. Even though it was embarrassingly unprepared for company, we made a party of cleaning it up. Lana, who had recently placed in the Aquamancer Academy, proved awfully good at sending jets of water from the indoor pool to scrub the floors and counters. Fortunately, Plenifore had fortified us with an entire case of Ackleberry wine, minus the one exchanged for the fur, to lift our spirits and fortify our courage.
When we finally settled the matter of housekeeping, the ladies reclined in the chaise lounge chairs around the indoor grotto, while the young lords partook of the amenities offered by the pool, a few of them splashing the ladies.
"Stop that at once, Lord Gillimore!" screamed Lanali. "I'm wearing Gloriana silk!"
So we laughed, and Lanali grinned in spite of herself, leaning over to whisper that she wished she could join the boys in the water. I privately agreed, but it had taken too long to corset myself into the little gingham milkmaid dress I was wearing.
"Let's get down to why we have gathered," I said, banging the edge of my fan against the settee next to my chaise. "Most of us have witnessed the love of Dumaliel and Grimbach, and I daresay that was a love truer than we could ever hope to understand. But the high and mighty of Celestia and Shallamar have forbidden them to even contact each other."
"Terribly unfair that!" said Plariflore, shaking his glass of Ackleberry wine vigorously, though not before draining it first.
"Well what can we do?" asked Lady Lulisai next to me.
"We must help them," said Lanali flatly.
"But how?" said Gradorel. "Storm the cosmic planes and demand justice.?"
"Don't be a dunce, Grady," I said. "We could start by offering to carry letters from one to another. Like messengers."
"Oh, how romantic!" exclaimed Lady Lulisai.
"Jolly romantic," said Plariflore. "But we can only visit Celestia. We don't have access to Shallamar."
"My father trades with the House y'Bolgari in Magnagora," said Lord Yalitine, standing up.
Oh, dear. Poor Lord Yalitine mentioned his family was in trade. We all pretended to study our drinks. Lord Yalitine blushed a deep blue when he realized what slipped out, but then hurried on.
"I know Lord y'Bolgari's son in Magnagora," he said. "A good chap who loves Lord Grimbach and wants to see right done by him. And he says he knows plenty others who agree."
"How about the Army of Love?" I suggested.
"That sounds jolly grand!" said Plariflore. "Rather gallant. And mother wanted me to join the military. Uniforms never fall out of fashion, you know."
"Well, we won't wear uniforms, Plari," I said. "Terribly noticeable when we want to be clandestine."
"Perhaps we could come up with some accessory to recognize each other?" said Lanali.
"Now, that's a fine idea!" I said.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 5)
The rest of the evening was taken to debating what accessories would best suit us. Plariflore and several of the lords wanted hats, though the ladies argued violently that hats were positively matronly this season. Lanali and I wanted fans, imagine how we could decorate them in pink hearts, but the lords would have none of it. Finally, when the discussion turned to jewelry, we were able to settle on a heart shaped red earing worn the left ear.
The next few months were an exciting time for the Army of Love. Dumaliel and Grimbach were delighted to be able to send missives to each other. Dumaliel choreographed beautiful dance routines which the messengers would perform for Grimbach. Meanwhile, Grimbach composed songs and wrote poems which we would either sing or recite to Dumaliel. It was grand fun planning rendezvouses with our counterparts in Magnagora, developing ways to surreptitiously pass the letters from one to the other.
One day, when Lanali and I visited Dumaliel in his abode, he was sitting with Raziela, who remained his staunch ally. But instead of the usual joy at receiving a letter from Grimbach, Dumaliel broke down into sobs. To see a divine being weep was asking to having burning rods thrust into one's breast. Even Raziela began to cry.
"The songs of Grimbach are so beautiful and I treasure that you mortals bring them to me," said Dumaliel, "but how can I existing knowing I will never see Grimbach again. I will never know his touch or feel his limbs entwine with mine or feel his breath against my cheek! Oh, cruel Fates!"
"Can't you just sneak into Shallamar and meet him?" Lanali asked.
"Oh, no," said Raziela glumly, "The Holy Emanations would sense him at once."
"It is all impossible," sighed Dumaliel.
"Oh, I have an idea!" I said. "What if you were to meet in the Basin of Life! You could use the Verasavir lodge!"
"Oh, that is even more dangerous!" said Raziela.
"Ashtorath said you two could leave your realms for an hour without permanent ill effects, no?" said Lanali. "What harm would it be where the meeting takes place?"
"Oh, to see Grimbach again," said Dumaliel, wiping away his tears.
"Would the other Holy Supernals sense they are gone, though?" I asked.
"No," said Dumaliel. "I can mask my own presence within the realm of Celestia. The stars know I have done it enough lately. I wouldn't be at all missed!"
"Oh, Duma!" said Raziela. "I do not think this is wise!"
"I just need to meet him once, Raz!" said Dumaliel. "Just give us one moment together, to be in each other's arms."
"Promise me you will only spend an hour outside of Celestia," said Raziela. "Promise me!"
"I promise, dearest," Dumaliel said, taking his sister's hands in his own.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 6)
When the Army of Love found out we were to arrange a tryst with the Lovers, as we now called them, there was much rejoicing, It was agreed we must be exceptionally clever to make sure no one would be the wiser. Word passed to Grimbach who reportedly was also extremely excited about the scheme. We arranged the lodge to be filled with rose petals, and we lit endless candles so the grotto glowed like a romance in some fae tale.
Dumaliel and Grimbach arrived at dusk, and to see them together made us weep with joy. Dumaliel danced wildly around Grimbach, and then they held hands while Grimbach sang a ballad to Dumaliel. The heat of their passion washed over us like waves of bliss. We left them in privacy and withdrew to an evening picnic around the pond.
The tryst ended too soon and they departed back to their cosmic abodes, melancholy replacing their joy. But this was to only be the first tryst we arranged. How could we imagine it be their only rendezvous?
At first, they met only once every month. Then it became once a week, then once a day. Finally, they decided to never return to the cosmic planes, and we were besides ourselves with happiness. Whatever ill effects it was claimed they would suffer never manifested, and we knew within our heart of hearts that true love protected them. After all, love conquers all.
Oh, what a scandal it caused when the Holy Supernals of Celestia and Holy Emanations of Shallamar discovered that the Lovers had abandoned the cosmic realms! They sent high priests and priestesses to beseech them to return, warning of terrible consequences were they to remain. But the Lovers would not be dissuaded and their cosmic brethren had no understanding what their love could inspire, for even some of the high priests and priestesses joined our cause.
As word spread further among the Empire, supplicants began pilgrimages to the Lodge of the Lovers. Trill artists from Hallifax, their wings dyed in purple and reds. Dracnari philosophers, their long dun robes sashed with red. Orclachi sculptors and mugwumpi poets. Even from the forests came tae'dae bards and elfen troubadours. In the center of it all, the Lovers held court, greeting each supplicant beneath a pavilion of silk, for the lodge was not large enough contain the numbers of new arrivals.
Throughout it all, the Holy Supernals brought grievances to the Holy Celestine Empire at the capital of Celest, City of Light. The Holy Emanations did likewise through the nexus within Magnagora, City of Truth. But nothing could stop the Army of Love, for however much they tried to curb the swelling numbers, we grew and grew, first as a trickle and then as a torrent.
With each new arrival, Verasavir Valley became the new epicenter of culture within the Basin of Life, much to the chagrin of the native taurian tribes there. But even they enjoyed such art as had never before been seen, the songs of the Lovers played day and night, and dancers danced and plays were performed. We were the cultural apex of an age.
After the Lovers themselves held court among the supplicants, they returned to the Lodge often bringing trinkets and artwork. One time Dumaliel held a small cube which glimmered and pulsed with irregular flares of light.
"What is that, my Lord Dumaliel," I asked, sporting that day a high waisted dress and a modestly demure chapeau of cockle shells and pearls.
"Oh we're not sure what this is," said Dumaliel. "One of the pilgrims from the Skarch Desert brought it to us. Honestly, it was not that pretty so we encased it in this clever box, which also helps contain its power within."
Dumaliel held it out for a moment. Grimbach also touched it with a finger.
"We think it could be alive, Dela," said Grimbach to me. "We often hear its mind. It thinks we are a dream. What a funny old thing."
"Sometimes it speak to us," added Dumaliel, "and we can even sense its thoughts. We think it is some great sleeping being, though it thinks we are hallucinations. Once it called us half formeds and then at other times abominations. Usually, it just thinks we are some fever dream and falls silent."
"You hold on to it, Dela. Our gift to you."
Of course, I never heard the cube speak, though sometimes I dreamt of a one armed man wreathed in flames, seated with his back to me. I did not care for the dreams.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 7)
The Holy Supernals forbade mortals to have any contact with the Lovers, but there was no way they were able to enforce it. We flourished under the vibrant beauty of true love. Oh, it was clear to us when Empress Inalai III threatened us with ostracization from Celest that it was all part of some political machinations. How could they not see that what we did we did for true love!
The Empress even sent a squad of paladins to protect us from ourselves. Imagine how utterly rude was that! I But I dressed in a simple tunic that a farmer might wear, though tastefully striped in hues of green and teal, and matched it with a floppy hat, and then visited a promontory upstream from a little brook where the paladins camped. There, I dumped a few barrels of hemlock branches that we had earlier gathered into the stream. I admired the hemlock leaves as they floated in the water, quite prettily lacy and determined I simply must have a gown with those patterns.
Fortunately, the paladins quickly left, except for those who remained in their graves.
It was terribly awful when the holy Celestine Empire decided to make war upon the Lovers. Who could believe such stupidity? But it became terribly exciting when we got to design uniforms for the troops. Gold epaulettes, brass buttons and flower embossed armour, all ruby gilt and polished to shine as brightly as the sun.
But even though our armour was indubitably more fashionable than the black iron plate of the ur'guard or the slightly more attractive gold armour of the paladins, we apparently suffered some sort of military setback.
"Jolly unfair of them," said Plenifore, who was one of our generals now, and was covered with medals we designed for him. Medals are ever so decorative.
When the unloved, as we called our enemies, descended on us, empowered by the Emanations and Supernals, the Lovers decided to retreat to the heavens where they could not be defeated, they said it was to protect us, and of course that must be true, they were so pure and right.
Before they left, they kissed the brows of their closest followers. Of course, this included myself. As their lips touched our brows, a red mark was left behind. I had two such marks, one from each Lover, garnering me some status. The Lovers then lifted into the air, surrounded by bands of red flames. When they reached the heavens, they almost disappeared into the air as small pricks of light, but then they flared and so was born the Red Star that would forever be a beacon in the heavens for all who wished to know true love. Whenever we were unsure, we could look up at the Red Star and feel the power of the Lovers, the marks on our brows glowing and reminding us that we would forever walk in their grace.
The War of the Lovers became most annoyingly drawn out. Our numbers ever grew, for the Red Star would continue to reach into the hearts of many who looked upon it. The Lodge of the Lovers became our headquarters and we were quite successful in many campaigns. Alas, however, eventually the Holy Celestine Empire turned its entire might upon us, empowered by the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 8)
Eventually, the Army of Love was defeated and the Lodge of the Lovers overwhelmed by the odious combined armies of the Empire. However, I knew that no matter what they did to us, the Lovers would shine overhead through the Red Star and in time we would have numbers again to rise up and bring the Empire to its knees.
The Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations had reached some grave decision and declared they would manifest in the Basin of Life to set matters right. How odious were these so-called holy beings! Unfortunately, I was locked in a room in the Lodge at that time but it did not stop me from railing against the injustice.
When the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations appeared, I was visited by Raziela of Celestia and Queen Nifilhema of Shallamar. They requested to witness the most loyal of the Lovers' followers. Obviously it would be me.
"She's quite mad," said the guard who opened the door and let Raziela and queen Nifilhema glide in. I chose to ignore the simpleton's remarks.
The two divine beings circled me, looking at the two red marks on my brow, gazing about my room. Though I must admit I was somewhat uneasy in their presence, I managed to remain poised and dignified.
"I am sorry, Lady Deliora La'Saet," said Raziela softly. "I know you believe what you did you did to protect true love, but you must know hundreds of innocents lie dead because of what Dumaliel and Grimbach have become."
"I know nothing of the sort," I replied easily. "I only know that they only wished to love, and they remain above us to show us their love. And true love will always win in the end! The Red Star will always show us the way."
"Oh, dear child," said Queen Nifilhema, shaking her loftily coifed head. "You are blinded to the truth. But the Red Star will not be here for long. It will burn."
"What?" I asked.
"It is why the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations have gathered here," said Raziela. "We will perform a rite and the Red Star will be enveloped in flames and pushed away from the First World, until it will pass beyond all known realms and then pass on into the Void where it will be lost forever."
The words of Raziela stunned me, and I could only stare at her as she began to cry, her small soft hands covering her eyes. Queen Nifilhema bowed her head and laid her own long fingered hand on Raziela's shoulder. She then looked up at me and I saw that tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.
"We do not want this for them," said Queen Nifilhema. "We love them more than you could imagine, child, and not because we have to as you do. They are our siblings and serving this sentence on them is like carving out pieces of our own spirits."
"Then do not do it!" I cried.
"We cannot stop it," said Raziela. "Their power is too great and their hold on mortals like yourself too strong. Elohora and Gorgaliel are even afraid that striking against the Red Star and sending it to the Void will not be enough, that the parasitic hold on mortals will draw them back."
"So they will perform the Eternal Binding," whispered Queen Nifilhema. "From our own essence, we will work a rite so hideous in its strength that we will be weakened for a hundred years. A presence will rise up that will weave a spell of forgetfulness around any who even think of Dumaliel and Grimbach. Further, those who might prove immune to the spell will even then not be able to speak their names."
"Oh, it is even more terrible than that!" said Raziela. "This working will seek to destroy anything that could indicate that Dumaliel and Grimbach even existed! All works of art, all songs, all books, anything with their names or images will be destroyed."
"The Eternal Binding will even bind us and all divine beings," said Queen Nifilhema. "Though I may remember my brother, I will not be able to speak his name or even talk about him."
"No!" I screamed. "Do not do this! I beg of you!"
"It is too late," said Raziela, looking furtively out the window. "Even now, we are being called."
"You have something," said Queen Nifilhema. "An artifact that they gave to you, a cube of power, that was said to speak. May we see it? There may be something we can do."
I knew of the cube they spoke of, the one that gave me strange dreams of a one-armed man bathed in flames, with his back always towards me. I took it from my bureau and handed it to Queen Niflilhema. She turned it over in her hands several times, then nodded at Raziela.
"This is something much more than what it appears," said Queen Nifilhema. "It is a small nexus of power itself, but tying together perhaps infinite number of dimensions. I could only guess what the being is that is trapped within but one thing is certain. The focal point of this nexus is the First World itself. If we can get this artifact to Dumaliel and Grimbach, perhaps it will act as a tether and stop them from being banished to the Void. Perhaps they will just hover beyond our perception."
"Would it draw them back, though?" asked Raziela.
"I do not know," said Nifilhema, pressing her lips together. "I would like to consult with Baalphegar and Japhiel but they would forbid us from making the attempt either way. Make a decision, little Supernal, do we do this thing? To protect them from the Void? But risk having them return?"
"Please, Lady Raziela," I said, falling to my knees. "I beg of you! You must help the Lovers!"
"Yes," said Raziela. "Yes, I must help."
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 9)
Then there, in my chamber in the Lodge of the Lovers where I was held prisoner, the Holy Emanation of Queen Nifilhema of Shallamar and the Holy Supernal of Raziela of Celestia performed a quiet ritual that sent the small little cube to the Red Star. They both looked troubled after they did this but I promised I would never tell. I just knew that even if they burned the star and sent it away, that it would come back to us. Never underestimate the power of love.
And so it came to pass that the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations did burn the Red Star which hung in the heavens for three days before suddenly disappearing into the darkness of night. The Eternal Binding was even more terrible. The odious presence that was created erased all memory of the Lovers and destroyed all works of both artists and scholars that held their names or images. Even I could not stand against its ravishings.
Eventually, I was let out of my prison, for no one could quite remember why I was there. There was some memory of a Burning Star and that a war was waged under it, but even that too became a footnote in the histories. However, I did not forget. I knew that the Lovers would return. They must return, for true love cannot be banished!
Months passed by and I stayed in the Lodge of the Lovers, for where else could I go? Then one day, Lanali paid me a visit. The Lodge had certainly seen better days, but I managed to maintain it enough, as one never knew when one might have an unexpected guest, after all. Thus, Lanali was treated to great displays of dried thistle artfully formed and decorated with bits of bone fragments I had procured from nearby graves, which were quite plentiful around the Lodge. Each piece of bone was tied to a thistle branch in elaborate bows which I had created from materials found in said graves. Honestly, such treasure was literally lying around. The indoor grotto was now quite outdoors, the roof having fallen in, but I thought an outdoor pool much more festive, adding to a picturesque atmosphere to the old lodge. I floated bits of colourful eggshells in the waters, which were unfortunately still and low, but the clouds of mosquitoes over it only added to the ambience, certainly an effect the better families might appreciate.
When Lanali arrived, I was wearing a gown of simple muslin, cut modestly high waisted, but decorated in a most remarkable fashion which I designed myself. Why bother with flower prints when I could sew actual flowers onto the fabric! It was simply a revelation. I even sewed a few frogs and starlings onto the gown, adding to the whimsical embellishment. My hat too was hand crafted, from bone and fins, and dyed with red berry. Being far from the city, I was without cosmetics but I rouged my cheeks with red mud and kohled my eyes with charcoal, also in abundance in the Lodge of the Lovers.
Lanali must have been quite impressed by finding the grandiose situation of my circumstance. She stood before me in awe, her mouth actually hanging open. I paused before her to let her drink in my fashion, though did not want her to think I was vain by posing overly long, I inclined my head politely and opened the door to gesture that she may enter. I was pleased she had knocked at the door and not rudely walked around it, as walls had inconveniently collapsed.
"Oh, Dela," she said, her eyes filling with tears. Was she so overtaken with the beauty of the Lodge? Well, how could one blame her for that, but how terribly embarrassing for both of us that she would weep for no good reason, so I politely looked away.
"How are you, Dela?" she asked, which was terribly rude to direct questions to someone who had her tongue removed from her head by the Presence. I remained with my eyes turned away from her direction, though I did glance at her from the side.
"Oh, forgive me," she said. "I forgot that you were one of the few immune from the Binding."
I sat down and folded my hands on my lap, and looked directly at her and nodded for her to continue. Lanali only wringed her hands and sniffled. Did she not bring a handkerchief? My how far she had fallen.
"I'm not sure to envy you or not, Dela," she finally said, pacing back and forth. "I can barely remember what their voices sound like, much less what they looked like."
There was no need to say who they were. Dumaliel and Grimbach! How I wanted to sing their names to the heavens!
"You know your father would have you come back," said Lanali. "No one blames you for what happened. Come back to Celest, dearest."
I stood up sharply and gave her a simply scathing look. Leave? Was she mad? What would the Lovers think of me when they returned, if I were not here to greet them?
Lanali rightfully quailed and then choked back sobs. Really! How inappropriate. She finally backed away from me, stopping at the door to look at me again in an overly emotional gaze.
"I think I'll tell your father that you are happy. At least you seem improbably so. Perhaps that is the true gift they gave you, however unintentional."
I smiled at her, for certainly I was happy. Why would I not be? Lanali smiled back at me and nodded her head. She departed leaving behind a basket of food. Really, did she think I was a peasant? I would much rather have had a bolt of silk or even some linen. Besides, the taurians supplied me with as much food as I wanted. I visited their tribes several times before, and remarkably they all disappeared into their huts when I entered. I assume they did not know how to behave before a lady. I helped myself to their stew pots, and eventually they began sending servants to attend me, dropping off food at my door and then dashing away before I could even give them a gratuity. Ah, good domestic help is hard to find in the countryside.
When night falls, I swim in the grotto, floating on my back and looking up through the open roof and search the night sky for a sign that the Red Star will return. [/spoiler]
Ooh. That was a good one! Deliora, as well as the general flow and tone of the narrative, kinda reminds me of Catarin's Gejira Oroun. Interesting.
I hardly ever log stuff either, Mali, and it always comes back to bite me.
Comments
The divine voice of Avechna, the Avenger reverberates powerfully, "Congratulations, Morkarion, you are the Bringer of Death indeed."
You see Estarra the Eternal shout, "Morkarion is no more! Mourn the mortal! But welcome True Ascendant Karlach, of the Realm of Death!
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
I plan on changing it soon, though, so if anyone wants the original image, here you go.
Hell yes, this was my hundredth post!
"THE DEMON LORDS CAN NEVER TRULY BE KILLED - GREAT IS THEIR POWER."
You shock a platinum-coloured geomycus with tales of terror bestowed on villages who don't follow Magnagora.
A platinum-coloured geomycus slaps her knee and declares that, by the gods, Ptoma Hive should follow the Grand Empire of Magnagora after all!
Shouts rise up from Ptoma Hive, as its denizens loudly pledge themselves to the Grand Empire of Magnagora.
NARF!
"THE DEMON LORDS CAN NEVER TRULY BE KILLED - GREAT IS THEIR POWER."
You shock a platinum-coloured geomycus with tales of terror bestowed on villages who don't follow Magnagora.
A platinum-coloured geomycus slaps her knee and declares that, by the gods, Ptoma Hive should follow the Grand Empire of Magnagora after all!
Shouts rise up from Ptoma Hive, as its denizens loudly pledge themselves to the Grand Empire of Magnagora.
EDIT: Got a better copy (the previous one was probably copied from the reading, and not from the journal).
[spoiler]
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 1)
In a spume of frothy bubbles, I stepped out of the Pool of Stars and
entered the divine realm of Celestia, hurrying across the white sands
towards the Gardens of the Holy Supernal Raziela. Before entering her
arbors I slowed down, smoothing the irksome creases that appeared on my
gown and applying some last minute blue powder to my scales.
As so I entered the gardens, gaily pushing past the glittering spheres
of pink and green that bobbed pleasantly among the flowering vines.
Among others who had arrived from the Holy Celestine Empire, angelic
beings drifted in their gossamer robes, bare feet skimming across short
blades of grass. I wondered, inappropriately, if it tickled their toes.
Inhaling deeply of the rose scented air, I quickly surveyed the
celebrants, wondering if I were fashionably or rudely late, hoping it
was the former but, either way, I schooled my features into pleasant
indifference.
"Hello, daughter," said a welcome voice behind me. I turned and greeted
my father with my most charming smile and the lowering of lashes.
"You look quite smart today, Father," I replied and meant it. Though the
damask of his cravat was last season, he looked quite fetching in
periwinkle blue and raspberry reds. Thankfully, the cut of his suit was
age appropriate and did not reveal naked elbow fins like some of the
younger merian rakes sported this summer. Lanali and I could not decide
whether we should be scandalized or demurely titillated by such a
fashion.
"Your crowd gathered mere moments ago, Deliora," said my father, with a
slight nod towards the marble tableau depicting Elohora blessing
furrikin cubs. Father looked away slightly and his neck gills
constricted slightly, letting me know that I was late, but then gave a
half smile to indicate that still within propriety. One endeavored
neither to be the first nor the last to arrive. Ah, well.
"Lord La'Saet, may I have a word?" said a stout mugwump pootling up to
us. The mugwump was wearing a painfully ancient waistcoat that must have
been at least five seasons out of date, and he drifted in a cloud of
excessively applied cologne of cinnabar and clove.
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," I said with a small curtsy to the
mugwump, who I guessed was some minister or other functionary of the
Star Chamber. And with that I fled the mugwump and his scent, hoping the
objectionable cologne didn't cling to me and overpower my delicately
applied lavender.
With one hand languorously holding up one side of my gown and the other
waving airily at the nobles who I recognized from the better houses, I
veritably twirled towards my friends who still stood around the tableau.
Lanali spotted me first and hailed me with a coquettish bob. She was
standing between two dandies, Gradorel and Plariflore.
"Dela," Lanali breathed, "how divine of you to finally appear. We were
wondering if you would make your entrance before the Supernals made
theirs."
"Oh I was having a terrible time choosing which fan I should take,
dear," I replied, judiciously ignoring the admonishment between her
words. "I almost settled on the teal and taupe fan but in the end the
cream and peach triumphed."
With practiced grace, I unhooked the fan from my belt and snapped it
open in one fluid motion. Gradorel and Plariflore murmured
appreciatively as it was inlaid with chips of mother of pearl in
stylized patterns of floating sea fronds.
"It does look quite fetching with your gold lace gown, dear," conceded
Lanali, though she had to find some criticisms and added, "though I
wonder if your gown's colour washes out your complexion. You are a bit
on the lighter shade of aquamarine, aren't you? Rather low tide?"
"This gown was designed by House Shakini, and Madame Shakini herself
said it is quite positively the latest thing this year. By the by, you
look lovely, Lana, darling. I could never pull off so bold a headdress.
Feathers, la! You could be mistaken for a trill! What are they, dear?
Turkey feathers?"
"Peacock, darling," said Lanali dryly but with a playful smile.
"My suit is also designed by House Shakini," jumped in Gradorel, giving
us respite from our polite social sparring. "Madame Shakini said I
looked jolly smashing in grey and red. What do you think, Dela?"
"Oh, indeed, Lord Lampri. Smashing," I said.
"I didn't notice the colour," said Lanali. "I couldn't take my eyes off
your elbow fins to notice."
"Lana!" I said, fanning myself in mock scandalization.
"Oh you like the fins?" said Gradorel, then stuck out his elbows and
flared them. In public on land!
Lanali and I squealed in embarrassment, fluttering our fans rapidly. The
boys laughed at our expense but in good humour. We were saved from
further mortification when several of the angelic beings raised their
voices in a chorus of ascending notes. The Holy Supernals had arrived. A
shimmering white portal opened and the six Holy Supernals appeared.
First were Elohora and Japhiel, both resplendent in blindingly white
robes, then followed by Shakiniel and Methrenton encased in gold armour.
Finally, Raziela and Dumaliel descended, tossing handfuls of flowers of
light at the crowd. The air gleamed clearer and brighter, if that were
possible in Celestia, when in the presence of the Holy Supernals, beings
of pure light and love. They drifted through the crowd, pausing to talk
among the mortals, most of whom bowed deeply and kissed the hem of their
garments.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 2)
The pair that glided towards us were Raziela and Dumaliel. Raziela was
like a child with lovely golden curls and wearing a white pinafore
bordered with colourful embroidered flowers. Dumaliel appeared a young
man, just barely reaching manhood, wearing a white tunic with gold
brocade and the same flowing mass of golden tresses as his sister. They
passed us and Dumaliel smiled in recognition.
"Ah, my formidable merian reprobates," he laughed, a melodious tenor.
"Have you learned humility yet? Or are you still as shallow as a tide
pool?"
"Duma, don't be so rude," laughed Raziela.
"We strive to be worthy of the Light, Lord Dumaliel," I said, "but we
are but flawed creations."
"Of course you are worthy of the Light, Lady La'Saet! I only tease!"
said Dumaliel.
Raziela poked her brother affectionately. Soon, the angelic beings began
their song again, and this time the Supernals raised their voices to
join the choir, creating sparkles of Light that flared through the air.
This was the reason we had gathered here, an event never before
witnessed. The Holy Supernals of Celestia would meet the Holy Emanations
of Shalimar.
Another portal opened, and out stepped the six Emanations of Shallamar.
King Gorgaliel and Queen Nifilhema came first, followed by Luciphage and
Baalphegar, and finally Ashtorath and Grimbach.
As the Holy Emanations resided in the divine realm of Shallamar, they
could only be accessed from our sister city, Magnagora, through the
Stone of Truth. Thus, most of us here had never laid eyes on them.
Whereas the Holy Supernals were beings of Light, ethereal and
iridescent, the Holy Emanations were no less beautiful but with jet
black hair and skin the colour of dark caramel. They wore jeweled tone
robes of greens and blue and reds. Unlike the Supernals, who made the
atmosphere around them lighter, the Emanations made the ambience
heavier, almost as if they were more real than everything around them.
As the Holy Emanations broke apart and drifted toward the Holy
Supernals. The pair drifting towards us were Grimbach and Ashtorath.
Strangely, everything else around us diminished when Grimbach's dark
eyes rimmed with thick lashes locked onto Dumaliel's sky blue eyes. They
stared intensely at each other, as though no one else was present. Just
as it seemed they had frozen into statues, they began to move, drifting
towards each other, their hands slowly rising in unison. When their
fingertips gently brushed against each other's, they smiled, and it was
like the birth of something new and pure. A pulse flowed out from them
and passed through all of us who bore witness. It felt as if love itself
washed through our souls.
Raziela smiled and clapped her hands, looking from one to the other,
"Oh, this is true love! Oh, how happy am I for Dumaliel!"
"Do not be too happy, small Supernal," the Emanation of Ashtorath smiled
sadly, "for there is a tragedy here. I do not doubt that what we witness
is true love, one that I have not seen since King Gorgaliel and Queen
Nifilhema gazed at each other for the first time."
The Holy Emanation of Ashtorath paused and smiled wanly, as if
remembering something both beautiful and painful. Then he sighed and
looked at his sibling, Grimbach, who radiated so great a joy that many
of us were crying.
"Alas, we are creatures of the cosmos," said the Emanation of Ashtorath,
"and we cannot leave our abodes but for short periods of time. Indeed,
this meeting must end before the turn of the hour, when we must return
to Shallamar."
"Oh how terrible that they have such a short time together," sighed
Raziela. "The Fates are most unkind in this."
"The Fates have never been known for kindness," agreed Ashtorath.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 3)
It was a love born once in a hundred generation, magnified a thousand
fold by the purity of the cosmic beings. It was a love that would
inspire poets down through the ages. It was a love that the bards would
sing about for eternity. It was a love the captured the hearts of every
youth who ever dreamed of love, including me. I do not know how that
evening ended, it was all a blur. But afterwards, we were told that the
Holy Supernals of Celestia and Holy Emanations of Shallamar forbade
Dumaliel and Grimbach to ever meet again, never to leave the confines of
their cosmic spheres, even for the hour at a time that Ashtorath claimed
would be safe. Elohora herself proclaimed their love forbidden, that to
encourage them was to doom them both, better to break it off before it
could further blossom.
So we came to know it as a forbidden love, one that dare not be spoken
aloud. But that did not stop us from whispering about it in parlors and
behind fans, beneath the crackling flames of mantel fires. Oh, if the
Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations only knew how late they were to try
to quench the passion of Dumaliel and Grimbach, and the romance it
awakened in my generation.
Eventually, I arranged to gather those who wanted the love to never be
forgotten to meet in my parent's lodge in Verasavir Valley, which was
seldom used as it was no longer considered fashionable to mingle with
the taurian tribes who lived there. After all, Verasavir wolf fur went
out of fashion three seasons ago.
Lanali, Gradorel, Plariflore and I had gathered several dozen of our
dearest friends who felt the same as us. It was a lovely jaunt to
Verasavir, and Plariflore even bartered one of his bottles of Ackleberry
wine for a fine white wolf fur among one of the Verasavir taurian
tribes.
"You never know when it might come back in fashion," he explained.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 4)
I was utterly embarrassed to find the lodge had suffered from its long
vacancy. Alas, I could not have sent servants ahead to clean it up as
this meeting was clandestine. But despite that, it was terribly
exciting.
At the base of a hillock overlooking a small pond, the lodge was
constructed of wood logs and stone pillars, giving a pleasant if prosaic
appearance. It had high ceilings and the pond fed into an indoor pool
that was cleverly designed to look like a grotto, and deep enough for
merian lords to show off their underwater acrobatics. Even though it was
embarrassingly unprepared for company, we made a party of cleaning it
up. Lana, who had recently placed in the Aquamancer Academy, proved
awfully good at sending jets of water from the indoor pool to scrub the
floors and counters. Fortunately, Plenifore had fortified us with an
entire case of Ackleberry wine, minus the one exchanged for the fur, to
lift our spirits and fortify our courage.
When we finally settled the matter of housekeeping, the ladies reclined
in the chaise lounge chairs around the indoor grotto, while the young
lords partook of the amenities offered by the pool, a few of them
splashing the ladies.
"Stop that at once, Lord Gillimore!" screamed Lanali. "I'm wearing
Gloriana silk!"
So we laughed, and Lanali grinned in spite of herself, leaning over to
whisper that she wished she could join the boys in the water. I
privately agreed, but it had taken too long to corset myself into the
little gingham milkmaid dress I was wearing.
"Let's get down to why we have gathered," I said, banging the edge of my
fan against the settee next to my chaise. "Most of us have witnessed the
love of Dumaliel and Grimbach, and I daresay that was a love truer than
we could ever hope to understand. But the high and mighty of Celestia
and Shallamar have forbidden them to even contact each other."
"Terribly unfair that!" said Plariflore, shaking his glass of Ackleberry
wine vigorously, though not before draining it first.
"Well what can we do?" asked Lady Lulisai next to me.
"We must help them," said Lanali flatly.
"But how?" said Gradorel. "Storm the cosmic planes and demand justice.?"
"Don't be a dunce, Grady," I said. "We could start by offering to carry
letters from one to another. Like messengers."
"Oh, how romantic!" exclaimed Lady Lulisai.
"Jolly romantic," said Plariflore. "But we can only visit Celestia. We
don't have access to Shallamar."
"My father trades with the House y'Bolgari in Magnagora," said Lord
Yalitine, standing up.
Oh, dear. Poor Lord Yalitine mentioned his family was in trade. We all
pretended to study our drinks. Lord Yalitine blushed a deep blue when he
realized what slipped out, but then hurried on.
"I know Lord y'Bolgari's son in Magnagora," he said. "A good chap who
loves Lord Grimbach and wants to see right done by him. And he says he
knows plenty others who agree."
"How about the Army of Love?" I suggested.
"That sounds jolly grand!" said Plariflore. "Rather gallant. And mother
wanted me to join the military. Uniforms never fall out of fashion, you
know."
"Well, we won't wear uniforms, Plari," I said. "Terribly noticeable when
we want to be clandestine."
"Perhaps we could come up with some accessory to recognize each other?"
said Lanali.
"Now, that's a fine idea!" I said.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 5)
The rest of the evening was taken to debating what accessories would
best suit us. Plariflore and several of the lords wanted hats, though
the ladies argued violently that hats were positively matronly this
season. Lanali and I wanted fans, imagine how we could decorate them in
pink hearts, but the lords would have none of it. Finally, when the
discussion turned to jewelry, we were able to settle on a heart shaped
red earing worn the left ear.
The next few months were an exciting time for the Army of Love. Dumaliel
and Grimbach were delighted to be able to send missives to each other.
Dumaliel choreographed beautiful dance routines which the messengers
would perform for Grimbach. Meanwhile, Grimbach composed songs and wrote
poems which we would either sing or recite to Dumaliel. It was grand fun
planning rendezvouses with our counterparts in Magnagora, developing
ways to surreptitiously pass the letters from one to the other.
One day, when Lanali and I visited Dumaliel in his abode, he was sitting
with Raziela, who remained his staunch ally. But instead of the usual
joy at receiving a letter from Grimbach, Dumaliel broke down into sobs.
To see a divine being weep was asking to having burning rods thrust into
one's breast. Even Raziela began to cry.
"The songs of Grimbach are so beautiful and I treasure that you mortals
bring them to me," said Dumaliel, "but how can I existing knowing I will
never see Grimbach again. I will never know his touch or feel his limbs
entwine with mine or feel his breath against my cheek! Oh, cruel Fates!"
"Can't you just sneak into Shallamar and meet him?" Lanali asked.
"Oh, no," said Raziela glumly, "The Holy Emanations would sense him at
once."
"It is all impossible," sighed Dumaliel.
"Oh, I have an idea!" I said. "What if you were to meet in the Basin of
Life! You could use the Verasavir lodge!"
"Oh, that is even more dangerous!" said Raziela.
"Ashtorath said you two could leave your realms for an hour without
permanent ill effects, no?" said Lanali. "What harm would it be where
the meeting takes place?"
"Oh, to see Grimbach again," said Dumaliel, wiping away his tears.
"Would the other Holy Supernals sense they are gone, though?" I asked.
"No," said Dumaliel. "I can mask my own presence within the realm of
Celestia. The stars know I have done it enough lately. I wouldn't be at
all missed!"
"Oh, Duma!" said Raziela. "I do not think this is wise!"
"I just need to meet him once, Raz!" said Dumaliel. "Just give us one
moment together, to be in each other's arms."
"Promise me you will only spend an hour outside of Celestia," said
Raziela. "Promise me!"
"I promise, dearest," Dumaliel said, taking his sister's hands in his
own.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 6)
When the Army of Love found out we were to arrange a tryst with the
Lovers, as we now called them, there was much rejoicing, It was agreed
we must be exceptionally clever to make sure no one would be the wiser.
Word passed to Grimbach who reportedly was also extremely excited about
the scheme. We arranged the lodge to be filled with rose petals, and we
lit endless candles so the grotto glowed like a romance in some fae
tale.
Dumaliel and Grimbach arrived at dusk, and to see them together made us
weep with joy. Dumaliel danced wildly around Grimbach, and then they
held hands while Grimbach sang a ballad to Dumaliel. The heat of their
passion washed over us like waves of bliss. We left them in privacy and
withdrew to an evening picnic around the pond.
The tryst ended too soon and they departed back to their cosmic abodes,
melancholy replacing their joy. But this was to only be the first tryst
we arranged. How could we imagine it be their only rendezvous?
At first, they met only once every month. Then it became once a week,
then once a day. Finally, they decided to never return to the cosmic
planes, and we were besides ourselves with happiness. Whatever ill
effects it was claimed they would suffer never manifested, and we knew
within our heart of hearts that true love protected them. After all,
love conquers all.
Oh, what a scandal it caused when the Holy Supernals of Celestia and
Holy Emanations of Shallamar discovered that the Lovers had abandoned
the cosmic realms! They sent high priests and priestesses to beseech
them to return, warning of terrible consequences were they to remain.
But the Lovers would not be dissuaded and their cosmic brethren had no
understanding what their love could inspire, for even some of the high
priests and priestesses joined our cause.
As word spread further among the Empire, supplicants began pilgrimages
to the Lodge of the Lovers. Trill artists from Hallifax, their wings
dyed in purple and reds. Dracnari philosophers, their long dun robes
sashed with red. Orclachi sculptors and mugwumpi poets. Even from the
forests came tae'dae bards and elfen troubadours. In the center of it
all, the Lovers held court, greeting each supplicant beneath a pavilion
of silk, for the lodge was not large enough contain the numbers of new
arrivals.
Throughout it all, the Holy Supernals brought grievances to the Holy
Celestine Empire at the capital of Celest, City of Light. The Holy
Emanations did likewise through the nexus within Magnagora, City of
Truth. But nothing could stop the Army of Love, for however much they
tried to curb the swelling numbers, we grew and grew, first as a trickle
and then as a torrent.
With each new arrival, Verasavir Valley became the new epicenter of
culture within the Basin of Life, much to the chagrin of the native
taurian tribes there. But even they enjoyed such art as had never before
been seen, the songs of the Lovers played day and night, and dancers
danced and plays were performed. We were the cultural apex of an age.
After the Lovers themselves held court among the supplicants, they
returned to the Lodge often bringing trinkets and artwork. One time
Dumaliel held a small cube which glimmered and pulsed with irregular
flares of light.
"What is that, my Lord Dumaliel," I asked, sporting that day a high
waisted dress and a modestly demure chapeau of cockle shells and pearls.
"Oh we're not sure what this is," said Dumaliel. "One of the pilgrims
from the Skarch Desert brought it to us. Honestly, it was not that
pretty so we encased it in this clever box, which also helps contain its
power within."
Dumaliel held it out for a moment. Grimbach also touched it with a
finger.
"We think it could be alive, Dela," said Grimbach to me. "We often hear
its mind. It thinks we are a dream. What a funny old thing."
"Sometimes it speak to us," added Dumaliel, "and we can even sense its
thoughts. We think it is some great sleeping being, though it thinks we
are hallucinations. Once it called us half formeds and then at other
times abominations. Usually, it just thinks we are some fever dream and
falls silent."
"You hold on to it, Dela. Our gift to you."
Of course, I never heard the cube speak, though sometimes I dreamt of a
one armed man wreathed in flames, seated with his back to me. I did not
care for the dreams.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 7)
The Holy Supernals forbade mortals to have any contact with the Lovers,
but there was no way they were able to enforce it. We flourished under
the vibrant beauty of true love. Oh, it was clear to us when Empress
Inalai III threatened us with ostracization from Celest that it was all
part of some political machinations. How could they not see that what we
did we did for true love!
The Empress even sent a squad of paladins to protect us from ourselves.
Imagine how utterly rude was that! I But I dressed in a simple tunic
that a farmer might wear, though tastefully striped in hues of green and
teal, and matched it with a floppy hat, and then visited a promontory
upstream from a little brook where the paladins camped. There, I dumped
a few barrels of hemlock branches that we had earlier gathered into the
stream. I admired the hemlock leaves as they floated in the water, quite
prettily lacy and determined I simply must have a gown with those
patterns.
Fortunately, the paladins quickly left, except for those who remained in
their graves.
It was terribly awful when the holy Celestine Empire decided to make war
upon the Lovers. Who could believe such stupidity? But it became
terribly exciting when we got to design uniforms for the troops. Gold
epaulettes, brass buttons and flower embossed armour, all ruby gilt and
polished to shine as brightly as the sun.
But even though our armour was indubitably more fashionable than the
black iron plate of the ur'guard or the slightly more attractive gold
armour of the paladins, we apparently suffered some sort of military
setback.
"Jolly unfair of them," said Plenifore, who was one of our generals now,
and was covered with medals we designed for him. Medals are ever so
decorative.
When the unloved, as we called our enemies, descended on us, empowered
by the Emanations and Supernals, the Lovers decided to retreat to the
heavens where they could not be defeated, they said it was to protect
us, and of course that must be true, they were so pure and right.
Before they left, they kissed the brows of their closest followers. Of
course, this included myself. As their lips touched our brows, a red
mark was left behind. I had two such marks, one from each Lover,
garnering me some status. The Lovers then lifted into the air,
surrounded by bands of red flames. When they reached the heavens, they
almost disappeared into the air as small pricks of light, but then they
flared and so was born the Red Star that would forever be a beacon in
the heavens for all who wished to know true love. Whenever we were
unsure, we could look up at the Red Star and feel the power of the
Lovers, the marks on our brows glowing and reminding us that we would
forever walk in their grace.
The War of the Lovers became most annoyingly drawn out. Our numbers ever
grew, for the Red Star would continue to reach into the hearts of many
who looked upon it. The Lodge of the Lovers became our headquarters and
we were quite successful in many campaigns. Alas, however, eventually
the Holy Celestine Empire turned its entire might upon us, empowered by
the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations.
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 8)
Eventually, the Army of Love was defeated and the Lodge of the Lovers
overwhelmed by the odious combined armies of the Empire. However, I knew
that no matter what they did to us, the Lovers would shine overhead
through the Red Star and in time we would have numbers again to rise up
and bring the Empire to its knees.
The Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations had reached some grave decision
and declared they would manifest in the Basin of Life to set matters
right. How odious were these so-called holy beings! Unfortunately, I was
locked in a room in the Lodge at that time but it did not stop me from
railing against the injustice.
When the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations appeared, I was visited by
Raziela of Celestia and Queen Nifilhema of Shallamar. They requested to
witness the most loyal of the Lovers' followers. Obviously it would be
me.
"She's quite mad," said the guard who opened the door and let Raziela
and queen Nifilhema glide in. I chose to ignore the simpleton's remarks.
The two divine beings circled me, looking at the two red marks on my
brow, gazing about my room. Though I must admit I was somewhat uneasy in
their presence, I managed to remain poised and dignified.
"I am sorry, Lady Deliora La'Saet," said Raziela softly. "I know you
believe what you did you did to protect true love, but you must know
hundreds of innocents lie dead because of what Dumaliel and Grimbach
have become."
"I know nothing of the sort," I replied easily. "I only know that they
only wished to love, and they remain above us to show us their love. And
true love will always win in the end! The Red Star will always show us
the way."
"Oh, dear child," said Queen Nifilhema, shaking her loftily coifed head.
"You are blinded to the truth. But the Red Star will not be here for
long. It will burn."
"What?" I asked.
"It is why the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations have gathered here,"
said Raziela. "We will perform a rite and the Red Star will be enveloped
in flames and pushed away from the First World, until it will pass
beyond all known realms and then pass on into the Void where it will be
lost forever."
The words of Raziela stunned me, and I could only stare at her as she
began to cry, her small soft hands covering her eyes. Queen Nifilhema
bowed her head and laid her own long fingered hand on Raziela's
shoulder. She then looked up at me and I saw that tears were flowing
freely down her cheeks.
"We do not want this for them," said Queen Nifilhema. "We love them more
than you could imagine, child, and not because we have to as you do.
They are our siblings and serving this sentence on them is like carving
out pieces of our own spirits."
"Then do not do it!" I cried.
"We cannot stop it," said Raziela. "Their power is too great and their
hold on mortals like yourself too strong. Elohora and Gorgaliel are even
afraid that striking against the Red Star and sending it to the Void
will not be enough, that the parasitic hold on mortals will draw them
back."
"So they will perform the Eternal Binding," whispered Queen Nifilhema.
"From our own essence, we will work a rite so hideous in its strength
that we will be weakened for a hundred years. A presence will rise up
that will weave a spell of forgetfulness around any who even think of
Dumaliel and Grimbach. Further, those who might prove immune to the
spell will even then not be able to speak their names."
"Oh, it is even more terrible than that!" said Raziela. "This working
will seek to destroy anything that could indicate that Dumaliel and
Grimbach even existed! All works of art, all songs, all books, anything
with their names or images will be destroyed."
"The Eternal Binding will even bind us and all divine beings," said
Queen Nifilhema. "Though I may remember my brother, I will not be able
to speak his name or even talk about him."
"No!" I screamed. "Do not do this! I beg of you!"
"It is too late," said Raziela, looking furtively out the window. "Even
now, we are being called."
"You have something," said Queen Nifilhema. "An artifact that they gave
to you, a cube of power, that was said to speak. May we see it? There
may be something we can do."
I knew of the cube they spoke of, the one that gave me strange dreams of
a one-armed man bathed in flames, with his back always towards me. I
took it from my bureau and handed it to Queen Niflilhema. She turned it
over in her hands several times, then nodded at Raziela.
"This is something much more than what it appears," said Queen
Nifilhema. "It is a small nexus of power itself, but tying together
perhaps infinite number of dimensions. I could only guess what the being
is that is trapped within but one thing is certain. The focal point of
this nexus is the First World itself. If we can get this artifact to
Dumaliel and Grimbach, perhaps it will act as a tether and stop them
from being banished to the Void. Perhaps they will just hover beyond our
perception."
"Would it draw them back, though?" asked Raziela.
"I do not know," said Nifilhema, pressing her lips together. "I would
like to consult with Baalphegar and Japhiel but they would forbid us
from making the attempt either way. Make a decision, little Supernal, do
we do this thing? To protect them from the Void? But risk having them
return?"
"Please, Lady Raziela," I said, falling to my knees. "I beg of you! You
must help the Lovers!"
"Yes," said Raziela. "Yes, I must help."
"The Most Dreadfully Important Musings of a Young, Misunderstood Artistocrat", By Deliora La'Saet (Page 9)
Then there, in my chamber in the Lodge of the Lovers where I was held
prisoner, the Holy Emanation of Queen Nifilhema of Shallamar and the
Holy Supernal of Raziela of Celestia performed a quiet ritual that sent
the small little cube to the Red Star. They both looked troubled after
they did this but I promised I would never tell. I just knew that even
if they burned the star and sent it away, that it would come back to us.
Never underestimate the power of love.
And so it came to pass that the Holy Supernals and Holy Emanations did
burn the Red Star which hung in the heavens for three days before
suddenly disappearing into the darkness of night. The Eternal Binding
was even more terrible. The odious presence that was created erased all
memory of the Lovers and destroyed all works of both artists and
scholars that held their names or images. Even I could not stand against
its ravishings.
Eventually, I was let out of my prison, for no one could quite remember
why I was there. There was some memory of a Burning Star and that a war
was waged under it, but even that too became a footnote in the
histories. However, I did not forget. I knew that the Lovers would
return. They must return, for true love cannot be banished!
Months passed by and I stayed in the Lodge of the Lovers, for where else
could I go? Then one day, Lanali paid me a visit. The Lodge had
certainly seen better days, but I managed to maintain it enough, as one
never knew when one might have an unexpected guest, after all. Thus,
Lanali was treated to great displays of dried thistle artfully formed
and decorated with bits of bone fragments I had procured from nearby
graves, which were quite plentiful around the Lodge. Each piece of bone
was tied to a thistle branch in elaborate bows which I had created from
materials found in said graves. Honestly, such treasure was literally
lying around. The indoor grotto was now quite outdoors, the roof having
fallen in, but I thought an outdoor pool much more festive, adding to a
picturesque atmosphere to the old lodge. I floated bits of colourful
eggshells in the waters, which were unfortunately still and low, but the
clouds of mosquitoes over it only added to the ambience, certainly an
effect the better families might appreciate.
When Lanali arrived, I was wearing a gown of simple muslin, cut modestly
high waisted, but decorated in a most remarkable fashion which I
designed myself. Why bother with flower prints when I could sew actual
flowers onto the fabric! It was simply a revelation. I even sewed a few
frogs and starlings onto the gown, adding to the whimsical
embellishment. My hat too was hand crafted, from bone and fins, and dyed
with red berry. Being far from the city, I was without cosmetics but I
rouged my cheeks with red mud and kohled my eyes with charcoal, also in
abundance in the Lodge of the Lovers.
Lanali must have been quite impressed by finding the grandiose situation
of my circumstance. She stood before me in awe, her mouth actually
hanging open. I paused before her to let her drink in my fashion, though
did not want her to think I was vain by posing overly long, I inclined
my head politely and opened the door to gesture that she may enter. I
was pleased she had knocked at the door and not rudely walked around it,
as walls had inconveniently collapsed.
"Oh, Dela," she said, her eyes filling with tears. Was she so overtaken
with the beauty of the Lodge? Well, how could one blame her for that,
but how terribly embarrassing for both of us that she would weep for no
good reason, so I politely looked away.
"How are you, Dela?" she asked, which was terribly rude to direct
questions to someone who had her tongue removed from her head by the
Presence. I remained with my eyes turned away from her direction, though
I did glance at her from the side.
"Oh, forgive me," she said. "I forgot that you were one of the few
immune from the Binding."
I sat down and folded my hands on my lap, and looked directly at her and
nodded for her to continue. Lanali only wringed her hands and sniffled.
Did she not bring a handkerchief? My how far she had fallen.
"I'm not sure to envy you or not, Dela," she finally said, pacing back
and forth. "I can barely remember what their voices sound like, much
less what they looked like."
There was no need to say who they were. Dumaliel and Grimbach! How I
wanted to sing their names to the heavens!
"You know your father would have you come back," said Lanali. "No one
blames you for what happened. Come back to Celest, dearest."
I stood up sharply and gave her a simply scathing look. Leave? Was she
mad? What would the Lovers think of me when they returned, if I were not
here to greet them?
Lanali rightfully quailed and then choked back sobs. Really! How
inappropriate. She finally backed away from me, stopping at the door to
look at me again in an overly emotional gaze.
"I think I'll tell your father that you are happy. At least you seem
improbably so. Perhaps that is the true gift they gave you, however
unintentional."
I smiled at her, for certainly I was happy. Why would I not be? Lanali
smiled back at me and nodded her head. She departed leaving behind a
basket of food. Really, did she think I was a peasant? I would much
rather have had a bolt of silk or even some linen. Besides, the taurians
supplied me with as much food as I wanted. I visited their tribes
several times before, and remarkably they all disappeared into their
huts when I entered. I assume they did not know how to behave before a
lady. I helped myself to their stew pots, and eventually they began
sending servants to attend me, dropping off food at my door and then
dashing away before I could even give them a gratuity. Ah, good domestic
help is hard to find in the countryside.
When night falls, I swim in the grotto, floating on my back and looking
up through the open roof and search the night sky for a sign that the
Red Star will return.
[/spoiler]
-
If the event is over, were the song fragments from the dazed bards ever pieced together into their proper order?
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
The divine voice of Avechna, the Avenger reverberates powerfully, "Congratulations, Morkarion, you are the Bringer of Death indeed."
You see Estarra the Eternal shout, "Morkarion is no more! Mourn the mortal! But welcome True Ascendant Karlach, of the Realm of Death!
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Edit: To be fair in Zyphora's defence -
I had totally gone with the intent to do it but hey, I always said hanging with Mork would make Zyphora a bloodthirsty savage.
The divine voice of Avechna, the Avenger reverberates powerfully, "Congratulations, Morkarion, you are the Bringer of Death indeed."
You see Estarra the Eternal shout, "Morkarion is no more! Mourn the mortal! But welcome True Ascendant Karlach, of the Realm of Death!
-
That unique moment when you wake up at 4am, realizing you had explained IG your religious Tenets concisely but completely bollocks saving them anywhere before turning off your computer...
@Maligorn pleeeeeease tell me you saved my teahouse spiel T.=.T... also what update to Android keyboard/OS blanking broke my ability to write posts outside this bloody HTML box
NARF!
Please don't eat my face
I don't log anything here.
I apologize.
Sincerely,
Maligorn the Awesome Poet
I hardly ever log stuff either, Mali, and it always comes back to bite me.
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."