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Because @Dragonknight is the best, here is a cleaned up log of what went down at the Asterian Convention, and the surprise we all got. Thank him for his hard work, and enjoy.https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/oFudJekF
"You have had an extraordinary adventure, my dear. Extraordinary! One that few people could ever imagine. Treasure it. Keep it safe and secure, tucked away in some special place in your heart. But... don't spend the rest of your days chasing a ghost."
You bow respectfully to Mithraea. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "The joys of Lady Sol." You bow respectfully to Hermes. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Greetings, Archprelate." You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Running in place, eh? Interesting." Hermes, the Messenger says, "Keeps Me in shape." The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously. Mithraea smirks. You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Round is a shape." Hermes puts His hands on His hips and goes "Hmmm!" Mithraea puts Her hands on Her hips and goes "Hmmm!" Hermes, the Messenger says to Mithraea, "Was that an insult?" Hermes scratches His head in confusion. Mithraea ponders the situation. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps." Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere asks you, "Was it?" Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps we should play a game of luck, Brother." Hermes, the Messenger says, "I'm all ears." Mithraea ponders the situation. You peer at Hermes unscrupulously. You say in a quiet but clear voice, "You don't look like all ears." Mithraea winces in pain. Hermes, the Messenger says to Mithraea, "Not a bright one, eh?" Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Apparently not." You scratch your head in confusion. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps We should drop him randomly somewhere." "Eek!" you shout in fright. Hermes, the Messenger says, "I hope he's a quick one." Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Chances are it could be with her." Mithraea spits on the ground in disgust. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Or perhaps not." Hermes's face brightens visibly with a broad grin. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says to you, "Make it back within a minute, and you shall be forgiven." You tilt your head to one side, rub your chin, and thoughtfully declare "Hrm." Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Don't and...well...We shall see." You say to Mithraea in a quiet but clear voice, "Lady Sol, I'm scaaared..." You manage to pull yourself out of the quicksand, and crawl onto solid ground to the ether. Outside the Cave (road). The ground gets closer and closer, then you suddenly connect with the sharp rocks at the base of the waterfall. A base of a waterfall. A fell werewolf prowls here. You see exits leading north and south. White flames lick over your skin, causing you to burst into flames. You smash hard into the sharp rocks at the base of the waterfall with a sickening crunch you can feel your leg snap. You begin to feel rather sick toyour stomach, and your eyes begin to reel in your head, making the world lose focus and grow blurry. Darkness then envelopes you. Your senses return to you as the blackout ends. 1131h, 4824m, 18396e, 21096w cxkdb- You declare a pilgrimage, crossing the land in a single step. Fish Street. You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Done." Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "That was cheating." You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Where was I! That was really strange!" Mithraea ponders the situation. Squire Demandred Dawyn, Seeker of Valour says with a Shallamese accent, "One wonders if the divine missed their mark?" Mithraea ponders the situation. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps somewhere more...far away." You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Oh no...." Ugrach's diademless place. An echinacea root has been dropped here. Lord Ugrach stands to his full, gargantuan height and reviews his demesne with haughty pleasure. There are no obvious exits. (burst and real deaths here) Fish Street. You are dead and cannot do that. You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Hi." Hermes, the Messenger says, "Well, he did make it back." By the divine might of Mithraea, you are restored to life. Hermes's face brightens visibly with a broad grin. The corners of Mithraea's mouth turn up as She grins mischievously. You say in a quiet but clear voice, "And within a minute!" You raise your hands into the air and eagerly shout, "Woohoo!" Hermes, the Messenger says, "Indeed." Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says to you, "Well done." Your face brightens into a broad grin. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere has bestowed Her divine truefavour upon you. It will last for approximately 1 Achaean month. You thank Mithraea profusely. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere asks you, "So, what have we learnt today, Archprelate?" You say to Mithraea in a quiet but clear voice, "That round is not a shape!" Hermes begins to wield the Golden Caduceus in His left hand. Hermes chuckles long and heartily. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "I suppose that will do."
The Archangel Xadaphon Adoh shouts, "Mhaldor! Hearken unto the Light. Kneel and give praise for all that is Good. Cast aside your wicked waysor all within your walls will be judged and found wanting!" Casting off her final fetters, the luminous lady awakens fully, shedding her joyful light from horizon to horizon. The Archangel Xadaphon Adoh shouts, "If you will not answer for your crimes, then let it be done! All within the walls of Mhaldor will be cleansed!" The winged beings descend as one towards Mhaldor, illuminating the buildings and spires below. Nulaye has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph. Nulaye has been slain by the might of a brightly glowing cherub. Sabiru has been slain by the might of a brightly glowing cherub. Kaevan has been slain by the might of a champion angel. Ethos has been slain by the might of a furious archangel. Shalishaska has been slain by the might of a champion angel. Moagedan has been slain by the might of a furious archangel. Amunet has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph. Simoln has been slain by the might of a champion angel. Niahm has been slain by the might of a champion angel. Mystie has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph. Tali has been slain by the might of a furious archangel. Kelandra has been slain by the might of a brightly glowing cherub. Balynne has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph.
An eerie silence overcomes the area as you begin to detect motion within the small pool.
Starting with a small swirl, the fine mist above the pool begins to expand.
The wind picks up suddenly, causing leaves and small debris to fly around in the air.
Alongside a pristine lake.
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. The gardens stretch out all around you, filled with bright flowers
and emerald grass. Low shrubberies with small, pale blossoms are surrounded by graceful, crimson tulips and sprightly daffodils, offsetting
each other's shades in a pleasant, cheerful way. Large stones of obsidian and marble also decorate the area, providing purchase for creeping
moss or stealthy ivy. One block of obsidian, its upper face level with the ground, forms the basin of a small, clear pool. The low but
supple plant life gives way to sprawling willow trees in the south, overlooking the azure lake to be found there. To the east, the form of
the Chrysalis Basilica rises above this splendour, outlined against the sky with its prominent towers. A small, clear pool rests here in a
basin of obsidian, with a thick cloud of mist twisting above it in the breeze. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. Fiery
sandstone is wrought into the form of an eight-pointed star, each point graced with an ever-glowing symbol of the Mitras. A sunburst has
been seamlessly affixed to the centre of the design, radiating light as a silent reminder of the glory of the solstar. Proud and noble, an
enormous black bull stands here, a puff of steam escaping his nostrils with each breath he draws. There are 2 guardian angels here.
Spreading its majestic golden wings, a giant eagle searches the ground with piercing eyes. Lady Nakoruru Ruadhain is here. She wields a
mithril broadsword in each hand. Soludra Ar'thela, the Vida Sophiste is here. He wields a sharpened quarterstaff in both hands. Destar
Mo'ke, Champion of the Empyreal is here. He wields a hunter's spear in his left hand and a throwing axe in his right. Awoken Dawn, Amirah
al-Halimah Op'Shae is here. She wields a throwing axe in her left hand and a kite shield bearing the Divine Order arms of Mithraea in her
right. Empyreal Magi, Karlyt Mo'ke is here. He wields an elemental staff in his left hand. Justiciar Wyverex, Seeker of Valour is here. Page
Celeris Le'Murzen-Lighthawk, Aellavellin Orchidae is here. Sir Silas Maynard is here. Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere stands here, primeval
fire wreathing itself languidly over Her form. She wields a Sabre of Dawn, shining red in Her left hand. Mellisa Op'Shae is here. She wields
a kite shield in her left hand and a spiritual mace in her right. Justiciar Darroth Vallah, Storm of Artemis is here. Seraph of Spirit,
Bwoomp, Mitran Seeker is seated here. He wields a Druidic quarterstaff in both hands. Grand Champion, Lord Ariye Aaseth Rian, Knight of
Elysia is here. Miss Saaga, Rose of Light is here. She wields a sharpened quarterstaff in both hands. Lady Nyneve is here. She wields a
steel Theran broadsword in her left hand and a dwarven battleaxe in her right. Lady Jenn Dawyn-Shiva is here. Quoren, the Guardian of the
Flame, Sol Phoenix is here. Sir Avto Del-Amroth, Knight of Elysia is here. Crystalline Wings, Kerrilynn Yuridja is here. She wields a steel
Theran broadsword in each hand. Page Graendal is here.
You see exits leading north and south.
The swirling mist slowly approaches you, continuing to grow and expand.
The mist stops several feet in front of you and begins to coalesce into the form of a young woman. The wind becomes strong for a moment, allowing some of the debris to fly through
the misty figure.
The woman speaks to you in a soft voice.
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "Greetings, my child."
The warmth of her voice strikes through to your very soul, lifting your spirits.
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "I am Imithia, the great-great-granddaughter of Epitus."
Her pure, innocent smile widens briefly in greeting, and she bows her head slightly in respect.
You bow respectfully to Imithia, founder of the Church.
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "You have come a long, long way, Ellodin. You have dedicated your entire life to the Church, and more importantly, to doing Good."
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "Once more, brethren, is there anybody who would step forward to speak of Ellodin's commitment to the Church?"
[people vouching for me, keeping it private]
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "And you, Lady Sol..."
Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "As I have said at many Consecrations, I believe that the Church of Dawn's era and yours would be incredibly proud of both the current
Prelacy and membership of the Church. Ellodin is certainly no exception to that statement."
Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "He serves Good and Creation loyally and faithfully. His determination seemingly never falters. I also trust that he shall enjoy what you
have to show him, my friend."
Imithia, founder of the Church smiles softly at Mithraea.
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "Thank you, m'Lady."
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "Once more, Consecrant, please step forward so that we may continue."
You have emoted: Ellodin steps forward, visibly readying himself.
Imithia, founder of the Church smiles softly.
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "Indeed, you have achieved much in your life, Ellodin."
She takes a few steps forward, reaching out to you, and taking you by the hand.
Imithia, founder of the Church says, "Come, I have much to show you."
Imithia leads you by the hand back towards the pool. She steps into the water, beckoning for you to follow her.
As you step into a pool, you are enveloped by a great mist rising around you. You feel yourself begin to be pulled into the pool, and soon you have submerged entirely into the
Beneath the surface of the pool.
There are no obvious exits.
Your senses return to you as the blackout ends.
As you awaken, your senses are dulled by the coolness of the pool. Although you are completely submerged, you have no need to breathe, and your vision is fixed into the deep blue
waters ahead of you.
You can feel the movement of the water swirling around you. You begin to detect patches of light moving about in the water ahead of you, floating closer to you.
The patterns of the movement of light finally combine into one area of motion, perhaps only a few feet in front of you now. As the light descends upon you, it is a shroud of
comfort that overcomes you, seeping into your mind to free your thoughts. Your consciousness starts to drift amid the sea of light.
You find yourself in the midst of a gathering, people whose faces and voices are blurred. Soft chants rise up around you, and you join in without thought, the words of prayer
coming forth without effort.
One person seems the focal point, a radiant woman, and a hush falls as she begins to speak. Her words drift toward you in bits and pieces, communicating the glory of Creation, the
wonder of the gods. A feeling of tranquillity follows a mention of Pasiphae, as the woman speaks of the beauty of her soul.
The deep blue of the waters return to your vision, bringing you back from that content reverie, a wall of light dancing in front of you. The incandescence dies down to something
dark and grey.
As it clears, a village is spread down below you somehow, normal and quaint with thatched huts and sprawling fields. People socialise and walk about, going about their lives, but
you sense a nervousness to their demeanours.
Your eyes are drawn to one house among the rest, normal-looking yet infused with a sense of wrongness. Your vision pierces through the exterior, allowing you a glimpse at a dark,
Suddenly, a scream reverberates through your ears.
You see, within that dark room, a cluster of black-robed people surrounding a table. Upon it is a humanoid, or the remains of one, its body twisted and rearranged into something
grotesque, complete with helpless, terror-filled eyes.
One of the observers picks up an instrument, something sharp that gleams, and raises an eyebrow at a colleague as if asking to continue. You recoil in shock and disgust, and the
vision goes suddenly black, as if in response.
The blackness is not complete, however; white pinpricks suddenly decorate it, and as you focus on the lights, a picture forms before you. Each one, a knight upon his mount,
sunlight reflecting off their shining armour as they move.
They find their way to that forsaken house, and the scene switches again, the robed men and women subdued beneath the templars, their victim being soothed. The sound of their
marching fades away, and the cool blue water overtakes you once again.
As the azure lighting fills your vision again, it seems to linger this time, giving way to a image that seems still stamped with the mark of the water. A woman stands at the
centre, shining with her own spiritual light, and there is a sudden silence that washes through you.
The lady raises her arms above her head, and a word of power sweeps by as a star suddenly bursts into existence. You try to cover your eyes instinctively, but the movement will not
come, and you are fixated on that radiant light that grows above her.
As it expands, it consumes her, a pure sphere of white, roiling with touches of gold. A hot wind follows a shudder and another blinding flash, and a cry comes to you, an
indescribable sound that is both animal and human, a keen of pain and of rebirth, of both resolution and desire.
A majestic creature made entirely of flame appears as the light dies down, flexing its large wings, its head tilted back, still in the throes of that cry. The woman slowly crumples
to the ground as you watch, and you hear a song of loss added to the phoenix's call.
It takes flight.
It slowly rises in the air, its flame-feathers brushing against the woman, her body vanishing with the contact. It extends itself to its full wingspan finally, so large it blots
out the very sky, and, then.. you know only flame.
The fire flares up in your mind's eye, roaring in crimson and vermillion rage. It dies down a moment later, consuming too fast to keep its power, and a picture takes its place,
that of a city.
In the corner of the city sits an impressive structure, a building of white and gold that seems replete with light and piety, and though there is an aura of anxiety, things seem
quiet. People are seen in a courtyard, some knights and small children running their errands.
Suddenly, you hear a click, as if a key was turned in a lock.
The sky darkens for a mere moment, the only warning before an arrow of flame appears. It races downward, headed toward the beautiful building in an inevitable collision.
And then.. it strikes.
It pierces through the stone and wood of the bell tower, and there is just the sound of the displaced wind before fire clouds all of the windows.
The building explodes, no time for screams of its residents, and there is only a rush of smoke and heat and light. A black cloud rises, flames flare and die, the river nearby
hisses with steam. As the dark smoke is cleared in rapid action, you see no remains of the building... merely a large crater in its place.
The ground is charred, baked beyond recognition, and fragments of once-beautiful windows have been melted, giving the earth an eerie, reflective sheen. Nothing remains except an
acrid scent, and it is still so hot that the image wavers in the heat.
The blurring continues until it is gone, and you drift for a moment, glad to be free of the firelight, though inevitably dismayed over the destruction just witnessed.
Another image comes to you, a quiet chamber of white marble and polished stone. An armoured knight silently walks in, stopping before an array of pillars, and unsheathes a sword at
his side. It gleams in his hand, yet he lays it at the base of the altar as he kneels.
Making a benediction, he rises and steps back, and a cool, soft wind moves by. A sense of sadness descends upon the room, and his expression is carefully blank as he leaves it
The scene suddenly shifts, no transition of water, fire, or grey mist now, and a similar room appears to you, again white and gleaming. It is a woman who lies upon the floor, her
eyes closed, surrounded by other people in simple robes.
As someone kneels beside her, she draws in a breath, opening her eyes, and even from your distance, you seem to see her lips form the words, "I have seen it.".
Again, it disappears in a rush, blotted out, until a bright flash replaces it seconds later, a silent explosion as a star seems to meet with a pit of endless black. It is consumed,
yet the darkness cannot prevail, for the light again emerges forth in a bright, blinding blast.
A sea of sorrow threatens to drown you as a great loss is passed on by that bright light, but as it fades, it becomes like a star, the sun, comforting in its warmth.
Joy and grace slowly overcome you amid the melancholy, and you are left drifting among the various emotions, floating on the ocean of your own mind.
Small waves, your own thoughts, wash over you, the reactions of what you have seen. The light in the waters ahead of you begin to grow brighter until you are bathing in its warmth.
As your thoughts begins to subside, the light continues to grow brighter. You feel the movement of your own body rising through the water, feeling returning to your limbs once
again. Just before you surface, you feel the need to breathe grow inside of your lungs.
You surface suddenly from the pool, taking in a gasp of air with your first breath as you land harshly on the obsidian that contains the pool.
Alongside a pristine lake.
A familiar voice calls down from above, "Welcome, Ellodin, to the ranks of the Consecrated."
Like the breaking of the dawn, a smile aimed at you graces Lady Sol's lips.
Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Congratulations."
Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere has bestowed Her divine truefavour upon you. It will last for approximately 2 Achaean months.
You have emoted: Ellodin takes a deep breath.
You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Thank you all."
You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Thank you."
Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Go well, all."
The Lady Sol departs, a cursory, yet poignant, sensation of winter lingering in Her wake.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Kneel before Me, Deacon."
You drop to one knee before Aurora.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "The role of Deacon of Celestia is one born from the culmination of the Divine will of the Righteous Fire and
I. One that comes with the burden of guiding the servants of Devotion. This is not a role that We choose to fill easily."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "At its heights, your presence, the role of Deacon, is a boon to the priests and paladins of Good, that they
too might experience the devout bliss of their Faith."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "At the lowest ebb, the harsh reality of punishing those who fall from Our grace weighs heavily on your
shoulders, yours the burden to bear."
Aureate light spills from the hands of the Lightbringer, Her fingers cool, pressed against your forehead as soft blessings fall from Her
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "By Fire and Light shall your burden be shared, nurtured by Our eternal belief. A token of Our faith placed
in you, We gift to you a symbol of Our approval."
Turning to a nearby pedestal, the Lightbringer lifts a small rod, holding it aloft for all to see.
With a loud crack, motes of ivory and gold pour into the chamber, gathering around the Lightbringer and twining sinuously about Her form.
At a sharp gesture from the Goddess of Light, the particles surround the rod, raising it high into the air to be captured within the
dazzling stream of Light.
Raising the Scimitar of the Dawn, Aurora severs the flow of Light, leaving the rod gleaming with a golden hue.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Blessed by Light, to guide your steps."
Preceded by a deafening explosion, righteous flames erupt around the base of the rod, the intense heat quickly engulfing the metal in a
The Lightbringer steps forward again, the Scimitar of Righteousness slashing through the fiery torrent.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Blessed by Fire, to keep you ever on the path of the Righteous."
As one, the two streams of energy delve into the heart of the metal rod, coalescing into a blinding aura of Light and Fire. In one joyous
explosion, the particles dissipate into the surrounds, revealing a magnificent staff, thrumming within a golden nimbus.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Crafted from the Divine will of Deucalion and I, We gift to you the Staff of Celestia. Bear your burden well,
Deacon. Guard Our gift well, for it knows only your personal touch."
Daeir nods reverently, head deeply lowered.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Take your token, Deacon."
Aurora flashes you a joyous smile.
Daeir grasps the Staff of Celestia gently with a gauntleted fist, raising it into the air before him.
A pure, unblemished construct of devotional power, this magnificent staff glows with an ethereal incandescence. Twin torrents of cascading
energies intertwine endlessly within the spire's clear quartz core, one glittering with a weave of gold and ivory motes, the other surging
with an intense white-hot flame. A gleaming golden crystal crowns its top, encircled by a resplendent phoenix worked in polished ivory. The
creature's burnished plumes of brass shimmer with a nacarat hue. The staff terminates in an ornately inscribed platinum ferrule, which bears
a repeating pattern of polished eudialyte and red tourmaline cabochon stones embedded along its breadth in distinctly fluvial filigree. A
numinous aura thrums about the staff, yielding an expression of authority that is unmistakably of Divine origin.
With a sibilant 'shhhiiiinnngggt!', you smoothly sheathe an ornate steel rapier.
A low, hollow echo resounds in the air as an ornate steel rapier slides into place within a mottled taenite and platinum scabbard, the
etching upon its banding pulsing with a dull cobalt-hued glow.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "It is fitting, I feel, that he who has worked longest and hardest within the role of Deacon, should receive
Our first gift."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "We are hopeful that the Staff responds solely to your touch, though One can never be certain until the myth
A wry smile flits across Aurora's lips.
You say quietly, "A honor beyond description, Lady."
You begin to wield the Staff of Celestia in your left hand.
An iridescent spark of fire and light wreathes around your hand and travels up your arm, the warmth both soothing and familiar. A sense of
supreme Enlightenment floods your being, the support and trust of the Gods of Light and Fire a palpable presence around you.