Hi! As this is just an index, kudos should go to folks who wrote these posts and provided the individual logs. Appreciate them on their threads. Thanks for stopping by!
Official Events Posts
Logs
- Li-Varili's Release (Truncated) by Avaris
- Drocilla Meets Li-Varili by Sulwh
- Judgement - Audience with Li-Varili by Avaris
A tête-à-tête.
- Captain Contelli Parleys with Elder Li-Varili by Xiran
The Compass of Ilaedron the Fair changes hands in a deal.
- Kaelye Blues Under the Dark Moon by Esei and Xiran
Lady Maylea fights Lord Nocht as the Communes unleash their ritual strength. Enter Lady Li-Varili.
- Mapee Studies the Sea by Xiran and Tyrus
Serenwilde follows up concerns of the circles of seaweed.
- Lanikai's Perspective of Awakening Sea Spirit by Xiran
Sea Hag Lanikai grants a brief audience.
- The Awakening of the Great Spirit of the Sea by Gurashi
- The Wilde's Ritual to Calm Sea's Storm by Saran
- The Wyrd and the Storms by Esei
- Lady Li-Varili's Dreams While Cocooned
- Globe of Mortal Memories
- Divine Flower Visions
- Beyond the Mirror
- Dreams of Ruination
NOTE: Information known only from reading shared logs is out-of-character knowledge and not meant to replace roleplaying with people. News posts are available in-game and considered in-character knowledge.
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Globe of Mortal Memories.
Memories that mortals placed in the globe in Mysrai's Fulcrux.
These were collected in a group effort by players. Additional memories may be missing but, thanks to the admin, are accessible in-game by the nautilus shell given to those who completed the Challenge of Nature in the 2021 Trials of Ascension.
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Lady Li-Varili's Dreams while Cocooned
As if the Goddess's dreams are your own, they enter your mind unbidden: "Come back, my child," you cry out, weeping. You can hear how she is so frightened, so scared and alone. You never want her to feel alone, as you have. Who could have frightened her so, this child you have given the strength of all the world? If only she knew the power she held. If only she understood others should fear her, instead. You call out to her in the distance, but your words are thwarted, fading in a soothing veil of white mist that dares to seek to calm your mind. Why are you so helpless, when your child needs you?
As if the Goddess's dreams are your own, they enter your mind unbidden: You bask within the lagoons of Lusternia, relishing in sunlight and company as you stand beside the one you most adore: crowned in roseate coral, smiling at you with patience and love. As you reach for their hand, however, your beloved's form evaporates in a flurry of bubbles, replaced by a cruel cackling as you are ensnared in place by countless chains that bind you and silence you. Your eyes dart in vain to see any trace of the being that once stood by your side, brimming with sapphire tears.
As if the Goddess's dreams are your own, they enter your mind unbidden: Why can't you hear the voice any longer? What have you done wrong? Nothing but silence greets you in this dark place devoid of company as you shiver, now bereft of touch even born from cruelty. Water fills your lungs, though you do not drown while suspended undersea -- you remain here, lingering on the precipice of life and death, awaiting a summons that is never given. What did you do wrong? You heeded their call, before. You promised you would see them. Why are you still alone?
7/25/2021
As if the Goddess's dreams are your own, they enter your mind unbidden: Music? Strange. How long ago had Drocilla sung beside you in the lagoons of Lusternia. The Enchantress sang as you fell too, didn't She? It is not Her song you hear, now, but it feels familiar, nonetheless. Is this a kindness, you wonder? Confusion fills you as you attempt to understand this distant presence, now drowned out by the sea of overlapping voices. What are they saying? Your consciousness presses against the pane of white that separates you from the world beyond, so close that you can almost know it. Impatience swells within you, like a cresting wave.
As if the Goddess's dreams are your own, they enter your mind unbidden: Annoyance fills you as the White Healer's voice whispers into your mind once more, all serenity and calm. The Goddess's patience is like a lake of still water every part of your being urges to shatter: "Your mind suffers deep wounds, Li-varili," you hear Her whisper. "Rest." The veil of white passes over you in its suffocating haze of light, the mild fragrance of magnolias wafting over you. The flowers' soporific influence is gentle and soothing, even as you burn with anger. You had sworn you'd never be restrained again, and yet, here you are.
A sense of distrust and wariness ripples beyond the barrier of white that surrounds you, its source unknown. The Hamadhi, perhaps? But no -- You would recognize Her insufferable voice. Other beings must lurk outside of your consciousness, their judgments as heavy as that of your Cousins. Spite, stinging like a salt-kissed wind, writhes inside you, a serpent coiled to strike the first to dare to voice such words in your presence. How you long to strangle them and drown them in your wrath. Such fantasies comfort you, and if they upset the Healer, so much the better.
Familiar voices drift into your consciousness, the she'nasim of your Bloodtide Coven speaking in hushed whispers as they gaze upon you from a distance. You call out to them, but your thoughts blur in a fog of white, drowsily slurring. Why do they look upon you so? They are waiting, you realise. Wherever you are now, they still look upon you, these precious mortal toys of yours that wear your bromeliad with pride. Your cruel amusement is twinged with peculiar fondness as they stand vigil. Ah, your pretty little fools. You will not disappoint them.
What are they saying about your child? You strain to listen to the murmurs smothered by the walls of white mist. Is the Sea Spirit still lost, then? You cannot imagine your Cousins will let her evade Their notice, though. How much time do you have left to stop Them? Strength is returning you, slowly but surely, but these maddening vines refuse to release their hold. And no matter how hard you try, your mind will not connect to your inert body. The Healer said you had to trust in Her, didn't She? What a cruelty, that She demand the one thing you give to nothing and no one.
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Like others, a group effort to gather. These would be when we were instructed by Elders to prepare against Li-Varili's curse.
Divine Flower Visions (of other Elders)
Crumkane: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << Ah, you sigh to see so much anger and bitterness in a single being. The flavours of life are more than mere salt, after all -- and you know that better than most. When had the Lady of the Lagoons last indulged in sweetness, hm? You look at Her as She screams of love for Her child, but the Sea Spirit cowers, afraid of her 'Mother', as waves lash out from her form. So you lend to the Silent Lord this power that Li-varili lacks, this ambrosial, honeyed succor that whispers of all the pleasures that life has to offer, if only the Goddess would take a moment to enjoy them. If She demands you be sour, however, you are more than comfortable with providing Her with something that has bite, too. >>
Mysrai: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << There is a bittersweet sorrow that hangs heavy in your heart as you look towards Her, the first of your Generals and the last. Perhaps the only true friend that you could ever have hoped to have in this time, in this place. She is mad with power, losing Herself to the Eye in Her grasp, but you refuse to let Her perish in this circumstance you knew would occur. For you know the truth, that you would, and will, go to the same lengths to retrieve that which was stolen from you. Your thoughts briefly turn to a statue, engorged by essence and memory, and you resolve yourself to lend even more of your power to the other Divine, for She cannot disrupt your plans so close to their culmination. >>
Maylea: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << You spent years in your meadow, painting the colours that told the tales of the blossoms around you. Elders came and went, placed in Circles you had no part in as you worked through your sorrow of aeons. Was She One whose birth you watched with dear Kaenalye? You cannot recall. She held no place in memory aside from the same scent and hue as the bromeliads, toxic in their allure. And yet. And yet. She stole from you the one object that might have brought to the First World a piece of Kaenalye - Your Sister and Your other half. How dare She. How DARE She? And now Sea Spirit writhes in anguish below you, full of colours of pain and anger injected into her by force: crackling crimson casting out the blue. Oh the blue. Oh Kaenalye. Sea Spirit must sleep before the madness overtakes her. Before it is too late, oh Kae: as it was too late for you. >>
Lantra: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << When the mad Goddess falls like a dying star in the Eye's shattering, you alone choose to aid Her -- for yours is the righteous sense of duty, one that Dynara laid heavy upon your shoulders as a Hamadhi. Maylea berates you as naive, but you pay Her no mind as you rest the dying Elder upon your old healing mound in Daeiv ma'Mornhai, for only you are capable of righting Drocilla's wrong in the Morokeche Seat. First the Basin praises you for your kindness, desperate to aid you in pilgrimage. Then as Her body heals, you turn your attentions to Her mind, and the world decries you as a monster that imprisons Her in place. You understood this was a thankless task. Healing ever is. Still, when the Goddess breaks free of Her healing, pity fills you, for the wounds are deeper than She can ever realize. That is, until She foolishly runs to the Enchantress, invoking such loathing in you all pity is cast aside in disgust. >>
Carakhan: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << You remember laughter and the brilliance of sunlight on the waters of the lagoons. And more, the water's depths, their subtleties in their greening hues matched, You thought, by the subtleties of the Awakener siblings. But then Her unsubtle declaration, followed by so many jabs and slights you bore for Her Sibling's sake. Until She vanished, and it was easy to remember before and imagine how time and waves would have worn the jagged hurt to something new and more fitting. A dream you clung to, unknowing, until faced with Her rejection and selfishness anew. That Her imprisonment had only sharpened Her pain and bitterness might have been forgiven, who better than You? But what She had done to Sea Spirit, Keltari's child, whole She should have cared for jointly, not sought to use so cruelly, that never. And the Lady of the Lagoons dares call you the thief? Li-varili never laid claim to that which She pretends to own. >>
???: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << The Silent Lord gathers strands of shadow about Himself and comes to float above the surging storm that surrounds Li-Varili and the Sea Spirit. He spreads His dark, shimmering cloak and casts His arms out wide, tendrils of shadowed power sliding down silently towards Li-varili and the awakening Sea Spirit. Behind Him, the other Elders gather in affirming positions, One by One by One. All are united in Their actions, no matter how disparate Their intentions, as the Sea Spirit froths and foams in a crimson tide of pain and agony. The world is flooded in her grief as Li-varili continues in Her maddened quest, so blind in Her arrogance and Her selfishness She cannot see her own child suffer. You will stop Her with them, if no one else will. >>
Terentia: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << She was like a Half-Formed who escaped their creche. Crazed, ruthless, determined. Even while weak, She proved formidable, but as You uncoiled Your strength and power You kept a tight grip on Her, Answerer poised against to strike if needed. Li-varili. The famed general of Mysrai's Rebellion: the one who has caused so many problems now and in those ancient days. And for what? Justice? Hers is not justice. It is revenge. The thirst for retaliation against all who She thinks has harmed Her. You recall that day when the Traitors were sentenced, and You dwell on those darker thoughts of the Triumvirate's leniency. Should We be lenient with Her? >>
Nocht: The Divine redolence of an illuminated flower blossoming with faith fills your nose, your thoughts emptying as a vision enters your mind unbidden: << Hmm. What is this feeling... Pity? You scoff at the thought. Li-varili's suffering is immense, but this is hardly strange among your still-living cousins. Anger, perhaps? The Mad Goddess has betrayed you twice now, but is it truly a betrayal if She never held your trust to begin with? A whisper of bitterness in your thoughts at the inescapable scent of snapdragon. You've learned that lesson many times now. And then a flash, a tiny spark - embarrassment? Revulsion? Do you catch glimpses of yourself in the waves of Her wrath? If His answer had been the same... And yet you let these thoughts trail off with ease as you watch Her depart with Drocilla. It is all irrelevant as your path is obvious. If She will not join the Wyrd, She will feed it. After all, nothing matters but Glomdoring. >>
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Most of these were provided by Esei. Thanks!
Beyond the Mirror
<< Shadows chase within the mirror's depths, resolving with a flash of scaley tail into a vision of the Sculptor, hunted once again through dark, empty mazelike seas. Not, this time, pursued by the Soulless Devourer, but by a looming shadow, radiating a palpable sense of envy and cruelty as She hunts Her prey through the murk and mire. With a powerful thrust of Her tail, the no longer star-shaped Goddess evades the shadow's grasping fingers, swirling to follow up briefly with the trident She wields, before resuming Her paced flight. Her face is set in grim determination, the shallowness of Her breathing testifying to Her struggle as She evades memory and vengeful Goddess alike. >>
<< Scarlet runs throughout the mirror like blood over blackened glass, lightning revealing a storm of black sand which seethes and churns in an unceasing storm. Deep within, barely visible in the darkness despite the scarlet illumination, floats the diminutive form of the Shofet of Abyssal Scales, Their form shifting as ebon glyphs form and reform an ever-changing, protective shield about them to combat a seemingly endless attack of seawater and plantlife. An anguished, bloodthirsty howl rips from Their canid muzzle, cut mercifully short as the mirror's surface blackens with an echo of a maddened Goddess' cackle. >>
<< Like cracks within an obelisk of obsidian that should have stood for an eternity, the image of the Silent Lord lies fragmented within the clutches of this murky lagoon. The darkness about Him spurns His every call, born not of His Daughter, but of the depths of the mired Goddess's demesne. Shards of violet splay out around Him as the shattered pieces of His ethereal cloak drift listlessly within the sickly floral waters, their forms shifting back and forth with a prismatic sheen as Her laughter pulses eternally around Him in a denial of silence. Despite all this, it might seem that He were at peace, for His ebon face is still as expressionless as ever - save for a handful of spindly, jagged fractures. Splayed from the corners of His blue eyes, these tiny marks betray the fierce cold of His wrath. >>
<< Manic cackling resounds as vines of bromeliads snake about the Empyreal Goddess, attempting to bind Her within their floral prison. Even as the exotic blossoms seek to ensorcell Her, the Divine radiates a blinding white light that causes the flowers to hiss and shrink back as if burned, only to lunge towards Her again and again, undaunted, from the murk of distant, unseen waters. Even the Hamadhi's endless patience can be wearied. The vision fades into darkness as the Goddess is pulled closer and closer towards a mound of coral overrun with the rampant flowers, leaving nothing but a sinister echo of Li-varili's laughter behind. >>
<< Dragged in the undertow of darkness and saltwater, the Even Bladed fights futilely against the grip of seaweed hungry for the ichor of the Gods. Her body bruised, Her features weary, She continues to struggle all the while She descends into the untold depths of Li-varili's depravity. Her icy green gaze catches yours staring back through the mirror, and as She tries to shout, only the muffled, muted gurgle of bubbles flow from Her lips, a vague sense of sound that is overtaken by the riptides. >>
<< Drowned in darkness, Maylea, Bloom of Serenity lies beneath murky waters, bound by binds of mud and entangling seaweed. Her anguished golden eyes pierce the gloom, the only colour present in the swirls of sombre grey. The Goddess's lips part, and bubbles rise, shimmering with prismatic light caught from the glow of Her gaze. They coalesce into blooms of brightness that expand in iridescence until one by one by one, they burst. And there is darkness. >>
<< The bitter taste of saltwater presses against the Epicurean Lord from every angle, washing over Him in a flood of grief and rage. Even caught within the centre of this unforgiving whirlpool, the Elder maintains a bright smile that is utterly at odds with His predicament, whirling His cane to summon a swirling shield of His own; pink sugar spun like cotton candy spirals into existence, blunting the barrage of harsh waves against a cushion of soft sweetness. The cloying scent of sugar fights with the sharp tang of the ocean for dominance over the Divine's hazy surroundings, finally plunging Him into darkness. >>
<< A glimmer of gold descends an underwater abyss, the only source of light and warmth in the oppressive darkness. Its source - the Enchantress - as She sinks amidst billows of black gossamer and golden tresses floating loose from their braids. Radiating waves of hatred and rage, a dark shadow presses pursuit from above, but the undersea contest is absent of motion as the two Goddesses are locked in a battle of wills instead. The shock waves that ripple out from Their struggle crash into you in a cacophony of might and sound that leaves a spiderweb crack on the mirror. >>
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Visions from the Bloodtide Coven manifesting during the Curse of the Sunken Heart.
Carried upon a bitter breeze, a vicious, mocking voice hisses in your ear and speaks of its dreams of ruin...
Dreams of Ruination
"I dream of a family. The children are exploring the tiny, water-filled holes in the rock formations forming the shoreline, while waves gently crash against their borders. Their legs are tickled by waters passing on the surface, nourishing the life surviving within the pockmarked rock. You gaze back towards the shore, waving to your partner, but they seem to yell something, pointing towards you. You don't understand, but eventually look back at the children. A pair of tiny legs sink into one of the holes, being pulled by an aquamarine hand. You scream, running towards it, but slip on the slippery seaweed. The last thing you remember is a sharp pain in your temple."
"I dream of pristine shores of white sand, and in dark contrast, sharp, black rocks shaped by the waves to pointy edges. And skewered on them are the corpses of merians, of faelings, of elfen and krokani, all those who opposed the Lady of the Lagoons, their dark red blood colouring the sand and froth."
"I dream of a world turned right - a Mother deprived of Her child lets those who stole the child from Her reap what they sowed. Pain and sorrow are the only companions of Her enemies, suffering and defeat Their fate for countless years. The Lady of Lagoons deserves Her revenge and those who opposed Her deserve their inevitable ruin."
"I dream of standing on the beach, watching the children play in the surf. They are laughing, splashing. One of them found a piece of driftwood and tries float on it. But something is wrong. One is missing. A hand, and a struggle. A single yell manages to be heard, mixed with gurgling of water. You scream in terror as the struggles stop, a small stain of blood growing where the waters were just disturbed. The other children stare, not realizing what happened. And then another suddenly sinks under the waters."
"I dream that Li-Varili may crush Her enemies, see them flooded into oblivion, and hear the lamentation of the Formation and Thieving Elders."
"I dream of a future when Li-Varili can know peace at last. Where Her enemies know turmoil and suffering, and She is free to revel in the joy of Her nereid and the lagoons, listening to enchanting nocturnes beneath a sunset-painted sky."
"I dream of floating in the calm lagoon waters, my eyes protected from the sun by the gentle shade of the mangrove trees strewn on the edge of the lagoon leading inland. A subtle shift in the current below hints at a passing body underwater, inquisitive bubbles floating up around you, until another shift tells you of its passing. The lagoon protects its own."
"I dream of oceans of blood. Sanguine waves crashing over beaches of crushed bones and skulls. Piles of viscera and gore piled high in honor of the Duke of a Thousand Screaming Hatreds, and mountains of bodies heaped upon the altars of the Lady of the Lagoons."
"I dream of a lush lagoon. The calm, clear aquamarine waters reveal the richness underneath, where brilliantly coloured corals shape intricate formations in the rocky bottom. Like flickering motes, vibrant fish swim between the fish, even as a menacing shadow appears for but a moment beneath one of the rocks. Leisurely swimming above the beautiful lagoon, nereids in all shades and hues sing together for the glory of the Lady of the Lagoons."
"I dream of friends having a picnic on the sandy beach. Soft, cool wind caresses their skin, protecting them from the heat. The gentle break of the waves provide background music to their conversations. One is working on a sand castle while another is preparing sandwiches for everyone. One sits just at the edge of the surf, giggling as the foam tickles their feet. The waterline though keeps receding, further and further into the sea. The gentle waves no longer reach their feet. Though the skies seem completely clear, a rumble comes from the sea."
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