Roleplay Logs!

Sybilla

You wanted more.

Tart rocks up when I'm teaching a newbie who's come back from dormancy, the usual ensues:

A powerful, honey-sweet snow blossom fragrance wafts about you in a dizzying cloud.

Taraus looks sceptical and says to you with a throaty, lyrical accent, "You smell like drugs."

You say to Taraus in a rich, smoky voice, "Right?"

You say to Taraus in a rich, smoky voice, "I don't remember what happened."

Taraus pats you in a friendly manner.

You bury your head in Taraus's shoulder and begin to weep uncontrollably.

Taraus strokes your head in consolation.

Taraus whispers aside to Tinder with a throaty, lyrical accent, "She only -seems- like she's coming apart."

<more newbie training etc>

<later>

Tinder prods Taraus in the chest.

Taraus stares implacably at Tinder.

"I'm sorry!" Tinder says with a blush.

Taraus says to Tinder with a throaty, lyrical accent, "'less you'd like to be known as 'Tinder Nine-Fingers', I'd not be so brazen about touching the goods."

A powerful, honey-sweet snow blossom fragrance wafts about you in a dizzying cloud.

Tinder says mesmerized in a distinct, baritone voice, "They're some fine goods. I was aiming for the..."

Taraus raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Tinder gestures at his back and neck area, pointedly.

Taraus tilts her head slightly, raising an eyebrow.

Tinder says in a distinct, baritone voice, "The, ah."

Tinder says in a distinct, baritone voice, "What's coming out of your back?"

Taraus twists slightly, glancing down over her shoulder.

Taraus whispers aside to you with a throaty, lyrical accent, "'ve I grown a fucking tail?"

Close to despair, you inhale deeply and pinch the bridge of your nose to will calmer thoughts into your head.

You say to Taraus in a rich, smoky voice, "Morro's tattoo."

Taraus says with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Oohhhhh."

Taraus says soberly to Tinder with a throaty, lyrical accent, "It's inkwork depicting a legendary beast. 'Lavrentios'."

Tinder says in a distinct, baritone voice, "Ah."

Tinder says flatly in a distinct, baritone voice, "Chilling."

Taraus extends her right arm and twists it slightly, the faintly-oily sheen of the ink seeming to come alive beneath the flexing of her muscles.

Tinder says in a distinct, baritone voice, "It looks real."

The corners of Taraus's lips turn upwards in an enigmatic half smile.

(House Bravi'os): Taraus says, "This has gone from less tutoring to more poking."

(House Bravi'os): Taraus says, "I feel a bit like the carnie rolled into town."

(House Bravi'os): You say, "Doesn't it always, with you?"

(House Bravi'os): Taraus says, "Oh fuck off."

(House Bravi'os): Taraus says, "You smell like drugs, what do you know."

A powerful, honey-sweet snow blossom fragrance wafts about you in a dizzying cloud.

With a damp cloth, you remove all trace of snow blossom perfume from your person.

You frown at Taraus.

(House Bravi'os): Taraus says, "Oh off I was teasing. I liked it."

(House Bravi'os): Taraus says, "Plus, who doesn't want to smell like drugs."

Taraus takes a swallow from a glass tumbler, her breath catching slightly before a look of satisfaction glints in her eyes at the quality of the whiskey.

Taraus says brusquely with a throaty, lyrical accent, "Ah, breakfast."

Removing the thick peel from an orange, Taraus separates the segments and pops them into her mouth one at a time.

Herenicus

Edit: Made me think of "a proper burial"

Kross

Daeir said:

Ashtan invaded the Harbinger estate and then killed a bunch of guards while we were defending it. Held an impromptu, completely unplanned and off the cuff funeral service with the one body we managed to retrieve from Kross bursting and being too slow to pick it up.

http://pastebin.com/ahkrmStJ

Pretty beautiful in its own way.

Was planned for me to drop the corpse. I knew you wanted it >.>.

Datrius

I miss all the cool raids working as much as I do .

Caoimhaen

@Datrius‌I miss all the cool raids too... I work nights and I sleep during the time people are most active. So I feel ya...

Aodfionn

Hats off, big time, to @Shirszae‌ for rolling with the punches. Was truly a blast getting to interact with her more thoroughly. 

Backstory: Shirszae did some stuff that Goodly folks don't approve of to someone that Goodly folks generally view to be under their protection. So Aodfionn goes to assess whether or not she has regret, or needs to be cleansed. What happened is below. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You have emoted: Aodfionn grunts as a look of sincere concern flashes over his visage, before returning quickly to a stern glare.

You say with a thick Trollish accent, "Why might that be?"

Shirszae says in a hushed voice, "...Still, ask away. Amuse me."

Shirszae says to you in a hushed voice, "...The why is not something I feel like sharing with yourself, Aodfionn. You are not precisely a friend of mine."

 You shrug helplessly.

 You say with a thick Trollish accent, "Understandable."

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "I would like you to tell me about this little, ah, infusion of essence you performed, with Amarillys."

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "Specifically, I would like to know why you did it."

Shirszae chuckles mirthlessly, a small smile flickering briefly over her lips as her gaze wanders about the grotto.

Shirszae asks in a hushed voice, "...Does the why really matter to one such as you? Would you not strive to do away with it regardless?"

You chuckle long and heartily.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "How ignorant you remain of Their words, siren! Indeed, it will be dealt with regardless, but the why is indeed important, in determining what would follow."

 Shirszae heaves a sigh, wrapping an arm about her frame and leaning her head on her hand as she gazes at you with sleepy mien, "...Well, since you are here, do feel free to enlighten me. You do love to talk, after all."

You snicker softly to yourself.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "In my ideal world, siren, I would not have to utter a word. I would be able to live my days out alone and content."

You shrug helplessly.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "Sadly, that is not the world we live in."

Shirszae says in a hushed voice, "...You are no shy troll. Come on, do speak. Don't make your audience wait."

You smile and say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "Difficulty with speech kept me from talking much for nearly a century. Consider this making up for lost time."

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "But I am not hear to speak - I am hear to listen."

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "Tell me why you imbued a Cyrenian youngling with necromantic essence."

Shirszae runs her fingers through her hair absentmindedly.

Shirszae says idly...see, in a hushed voice, "The thing is, I am not at all inclined to tell you. Now, if you share what runs trough that sick and twisted mind of yours, I might just share what runs trough mine. Otherwise...I think you know the way out."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

You say bluntly to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "I need to know whether the disease you spread needs curing, or amputation."

Shirszae says curiously in a hushed voice, "...And pray tell, what exactly are you thinking of amputating?"

Shirszae gazes impassively at you, an eyebrow subtly arching up as she tilts her head.

You frown and say urgently to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "The child needs to be restored. The outward effects - if you have been paying attention to her, you would see that the reaction is clearly not what you were hoping for, if you call her your friend."

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "I may not like what you do, I may not like you personally, but I unfortunately need to know the circumstances behind whatever afflicted the poor child."

Shirszae glances at you and pauses a moment to gather her thoughts.

Shirszae takes a drink from a snow blossom vial.

You frown and say with a thick Trollish accent, "To shirzsae And if that youngling is your friend, as she believes you are, then you will tell me what I need to know. This girl trusts you. Please do not make her foolish in her judgment."

Shirszae sighs again, rubbing her temples as she frowns deeply, "...Very well."

Shirszae asks in a hushed voice, "...Tell me this, then, and I will share with you as much as I can remember. You spoke of amputation, yet you will not say what limb it is you have in mind. Do you simply not know, or are you unwilling to say?"

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "It would be dependent on too many things for me to be able to give you a solid answer as to that, yet. I am Aarashi - I am forbidden to lie. Therefore, I will not tell you it is one thing, and then have the circumstances demand that it is another."

Shirszae ponders you with a contemplative expression.

Shirszae says coldly in a hushed voice, "...Very well."

You tilt your head curiously at Shirszae.

Shirszae says contemplatively in a hushed voice, "...The essence was never meant to react physically with her body, but more to mesh with her mind. To... sway her inclinations. Just a fraction, perhaps more. If she is suffering a physical defect because of it, it must be originating in her mind. Unless you plan to amputate all her limbs, I'd say that would be a rather poor cure for it."

You have emoted: Aodfionn nods solemnly, furrowing his brow as he contemplates the gravity of your words for a brief moment.

You say quietly with a thick Trollish accent, "I see."

Shirszae ponders you with a contemplative expression.

Shirszae asks in a hushed voice, "...What do you plan to do, Arashi?"

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "The healing powers of the Light are almost limitless - to start, she will be cleansed of Evil, in Her Light."

 A rune shaped like a butterfly has been sketched into the ground here. A rune like an open eye has been sketched into the ground here. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Standing regally, a shaggy mountain goat gazes about. An ashen-hued granite bench is here, mottled and worn with age. Shirszae Nynniaw, Fallen Harbinger of Art is here, shrouded.

Shirszae stares at you with a slight frown upon her features.

Shirszae asks in a hushed voice, "...To 'start'? And what then?"

Shirszae eats an echinacea root.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "After she is properly cared for, then we come to the issue..."

You say bluntly to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "...of what to do with you."

A glimmer of amusement brightens Shirszae's amber eye.

Shirszae says to you in a hushed voice, "...I do not much care for threats, Arashi."

Shirszae waves her hand dismissively.

You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "I was unaware I was threatening anything. Someone as stubborn as yourself likely does not react favorably to displays of martial prowess."

The corners of Shirszae's lips turn upwards in an enigmatic half smile.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "No, admirers of the arts tend to better understand poeticism and storytelling."

Shirszae says in a hushed voice, "...Save your words and care for her, Arashi. We will talk afterwards."

Shirszae says in a hushed voice, "...We'll see if the cure is worst than the sickness."

You narrow your eyes to thin slits.

You have emoted: With alarming speed, Aodfionn grabs you by the collar of your armour and picks you up off the ground, raising you up until your eyes are level with his. His eyes flash menacingly as his brow furrows in anger.

You whisper to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "I think, you misunderstand my intent."

Shirszae stares impassively at you, but the hint of a smile flickers on the corner of her lips.

Shirszae says in a hushed voice, "...Do I? I understand nuances and hints more than your dulled troll brain could possibly imagine, dear."

You have emoted: Aodfionn grunts and raises you up above his head for a brief moment, before throwing you to the ground with a dissatisfied grunt.

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "Mm, you are right. I have never been a fan of subtlety."

Shirszae brushes the dust and dirt off herself.

You have emoted: Aodfionn growls as he kneels down, placing his right hand on your head as he pins your armour to the ground with his left.

Shirszae's eye remains firmly on your own, cold amusement glimmering in its depths, "...So, what do you plan to do now, Arashi?"

You have emoted: Closing his eyes and furrowing his brow in deep concentration, Aodfionn grunts and begins to utter a quiet prayer in a dialect you cannot quite place. Motes of silver and blue-tinted light begin to emanate from his torso and coursing through and over his body, down his arms, moving and writing around his form. The aureating Light stops, just barely above your face where his hand lays.

You whisper to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "No words, now. There is only Light."

Shirszae whispers coldly in a hushed voice, "...What is it? Not so keen on talking now?"

You have emoted: Aodfionn opens his eyes and frowns, a look of stern concentration overtaking him as he presses down on your skull. The aura immediately begins to permeate your flesh, down to the core of your very being as it rapidly begins to envelop your entire body in heat that you have never yet known.

You see Shirszae Nynniaw, Fallen Harbinger of Art yell, "Aaaaaaaargh."

You have emoted: Aodfionn nods solemnly and releases you from his grasp, the aureate Light dissipating as soon as contact is lost.

Amarillys arrives from the south.

Shirszae screams and convulses, her back straining and arching as she struggles to get away from you.

Amarillys says in a demurely lilting voice, "L-leave her alone."

You nod your head at Amarillys.

You say to Amarillys with a thick Trollish accent, "It is done."

You have emoted: Aodfionn grunts as he turns his head back to look at the writhing form of Shirszae with a look of solemn sadness.

Shirszae whispers bitterly in a hushed voice, "...W-what did you d-do to me, you oaf!?"

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "You like to play with forces you do not understand. I gave you the gift of knowledge and understanding."

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "And a second chance at life."

You narrow your eyes at Shirszae in an unnerving manner.

Amarillys runs over to Shirszae and kneels at her side as she glances over her form and trembles.

Amarillys says fearfully to you in a demurely lilting voice, "You... c-cleansed her..?"

You say to Shirszae with a thick Trollish accent, "That was a mere taste of the cleansing power She wields. Do not make me return with one of the Caefir to instruct you what the Fire and Light feel like when they are combined."

Tharvis

Well, I'm never meeting @Aodfionn, that's for sure.

(ask @Caoimhaen why)

Halos

#targrealtalk

I like how you just Light-raped some chick in a random grotto in Cyrene, the nicest place on the planet. I'm torn between feelings of exultation, fascination, and mild horror. Props to Shirszae for rolling with it. 

inb4 @Daeir making devo-punching uppity Diasporans in their faces a regular thing.

Amarillys

I am so excited... 

Aodfionn

dibs

Jurixe

I was on my work computer (HTML client) so couldn't really log, I'm afraid you guys will have to ask other people for that. I did take a picture though!

A grand stage amidst the fens (indoors).

Temporarily erected in the centre of the murky swamps, this grand circular stage is suspended beneath its tented roof, mid-air above the sucking surface of the marsh. A swirling mist surrounds the dance floor, and an eerie luminescence projected from beneath the edges of the platform throws shadowed, twisting shapes against the fog walls. Floating high overhead in the eaves of the silky canvas are several swollen, faceted orbs of light, the glittering fixtures spinning lazily and casting their fractured reflections onto the gathering below. A quartet of drowned sailors drips seawater across their dais. Harkening back to tales of lore, the masked hostess lounges in a costume befitting an elder Occultist. Redolent of a tropical storm, a masked singer is poised here, her blonde hair seeming to shift with an invisible wind. A nebulous water weird is here. A pellet of arsenic sits on the floor. A dark grey flake of plumbum sparkles upon the floor. A dull grey chip of magnesium rests on the ground. A massive minotaur stands here, a dove mask resting delicately on his muzzle. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Wearing an elaborate bronze mask, a dark-skinned man lounges here with a wry smile. Subtly flexing for the enjoyment of those nearby, a shirtless masked waiter is here, waiting to take the next order. Standing still as a statue, a blood steed has fixed its fiery red eyes on some movement in the distance. A bloodroot leaf lies here.

A partygoer disguised by a ruby-inlaid, lily-patterned mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a filigree Magnum Opus domino mask is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. A partygoer disguised by a handsome ebon and gold mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a fiery crimson and gold mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a blackened metal half mask is here. He wields a Shield of Absorption in his left hand and an ornate steel rapier in his right. A partygoer disguised by a fuzzy panda mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an intricate and gem-encrusted gold mask is here. She wields a spiritual mace in her left hand and a kite shield in her right. A partygoer disguised by a diamond and feather mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a golden dryad handmaiden mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a come-hither siren mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a runed silver mask is here. She wields a cavalry shield in her right hand. A partygoer disguised by a meretricious empress mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a horned ivory mask is here. He wields a Shield of Absorption bearing the arms of Naga in his left hand. A partygoer disguised by an elegant, beaked white raven mask is here. Her face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. A partygoer disguised by an elegant filigree mask is here. She wields a small hand mirror in her left hand and a bouquet of white Zaphar lilies bound by silver ribbons in her right. A partygoer disguised by a tragedian's alluring demon mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a white silk half-mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a simple black dragon mask is here. His face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. He wields an ebony cane in his right hand. A partygoer disguised by a silver-marked raven mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an emerald-inlaid, ivy-patterned mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a wine-dark Meropian pirate mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a hepatizon and porcelain half-face mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a gentleman's watered steel mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a decomposing peacock mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an unctuously-grinning and pink-cheeked visage mask is here, shrouded. A partygoer disguised by a torn heart-shaped mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a firelit sky mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an unsettlingly cheerful clown mask is here. He is surrounded by one reflection of himself. A partygoer disguised by a nightingale mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an elegant, beaked black raven mask is here. He wields a Shield of Absorption in his left hand. A partygoer disguised by a serpentine scaled ice mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a mysterious black lace and sapphire mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an earthy, autumn leaf mask is here. She wields a giant, fiendish nightmare plush in her left hand. A partygoer disguised by a discomfiting ivory maiden mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a lace-veiled indigo mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a burning feathers mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a formidable dragon mask is here. He wields a ruby-encrusted onyx goblet in his left hand. A partygoer disguised by a handsome young satyri mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a delicate silver filigree mask is here.

I separated people from the description because it was just too long. Here's the second room:

A table-laden stage surrounded by fog (indoors).

Walled with the eerie fog that beleaguers these notorious fens, this northern section of the suspended stage is lined with tables. Food and drink cover some in an indulgently redolent spread, while the others are weighed down with boxes and bags, each filled with gifts and prizes for the lucky partygoers. Floating high overhead in the eaves of the tent are several swollen, faceted orbs of light, the glittering fixtures spinning lazily and casting softly dancing shadows over all beneath. Strung overhead, orange and black paper bats flap with creepy sentience. The unsettling rustle of bone against bone echoes eerily as the skeletal arm atop this mysterious box awaits the next victim of its game. Wings wrapped about herself, a ghost bat hangs from a nearby perch. A voluptuous masked waitress casts a sultry glance about, looking for her next order. Wearing an elaborate bronze mask, a dark-skinned man lounges here with a wry smile.

A partygoer disguised by a wine-dark Meropian pirate mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a torn heart-shaped mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a tragedian's alluring demon mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a blackened metal half mask is here. He wields a Shield of Absorption in his left hand and an ornate steel rapier in his right. A partygoer disguised by a ruby-inlaid, lily-patterned mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a handsome ebon and gold mask is here. A partygoer disguised by an intricate and gem-encrusted gold mask is here. She wields a spiritual mace in her left hand and a kite shield in her right. A partygoer disguised by an emerald-inlaid, ivy-patterned mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a discomfiting ivory maiden mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a lace-veiled indigo mask is here. A partygoer disguised by a delicate silver filigree mask is here.

Taraus

The chicly masked hostess exclaims, "And, our best couple, of which there are many!"

The chicly masked hostess says, "I do so approve of the coordination."

The chicly masked hostess says, "Our satyri gentlemen and his hithersome siren take the prize."

The chicly masked hostess beams and hands a plaque to the masked satyri.

A partygoer disguised by a handsome young satyri mask says, "I would like to thank the members of the judging panel."

A partygoer disguised by a gentleman's watered steel mask asks, "For having exquisite taste?"

A partygoer disguised by a handsome ebon and gold mask says to a partygoer disguised by a handsome young satyri mask, "The award doesn't call for a speech."

The chicly masked hostess inclines her head politely.

You say lasciviously, "And I'd like to thank my clientele, of which there most assuredly are none on the panel."



----------------------


a commemorative plaque from the Year 668 Mayaween Masquerade Ball

This elegant plaque celebrates the winners of the Best Couple's Masks from the Magnificent Mayaween Masquerade Ball.

Crafted of glossy black marble, this handsome plaque commemorates the finest masks donned by a couple at the great Mayaween Masquerade Ball. Bold engraving along the top third of the plaque are the names Herenicus Coldraven and Taraus Bravi'os. Adorning the centre, two hand-crafted replicas of the victorious masks have been attached: a handsome young satyri mask, and a come-hither siren mask. Etched in flowing script at the bottom, are the words: Best Masks Worn by a Couple. Mayaween Masquerade Ball, Year 668.

-----------------------

Hers:

She is a beautiful siren, and is dripping with carnal promise. Scant attire scarcely conceals the lascivious curves of her generous femininity, her bronzed skin dusted with a shimmering powder that leaves only whispers of the ink beneath visible. Waves of luxuriant tresses have been left to tumble free over her shoulders, spilling down to mid-back in a shower of gleaming blonde, the edges of her mask concealed by wispy, curling tendrils.
She is wearing:
 a melodic golden anklet of tinkling coins,
 a belly chain of silver bells,
 smoky amethyst boots with wicked stiletto heels
 a layered crimson and amethyst embroidered skirt,
 a crimson and amethyst embroidered silk bodice, and
 a come-hither siren mask
-
With its delicious features highlighted in impeccable make-up, this mask portrays all the classic temptations of a seductive siren, from the coquettish tilt of the brow to the full, glistening lips pursed in a perpetual come-on. A thick fringe of jet lashes outline the eyeholes, revealing a beckoning gaze of dazzling violet, complimented by a sparkling smudge of mauve shadow. The slightest hint of pink flushes the cheeks, and the creamy complexion seems to shimmer and glow.

-----------------------
His:

He is a human. A leisurely posture belies his natural grace, his flamboyant attire countered by a swirling grey cloak that shifts with each motion. Topped with rich mane of tousled brown, the luxuriant locks beg to have fingers run through it, and his entire carriage seems to be coloured with languid invitation.
He is wearing:
 dark brown leather boots,
 black, custom cut dress trousers of ahimsa silk,
 a high-necked formal tunic of crimson and gold,
 an elegant silver-grey cloak, and
 a handsome young satyri mask
-
High cheekbones, a strong jawline and a flirtatious mouth come together to define this mask, depicting the features of a remarkably handsome satyri. Though the obscuring cover hides the identity of the individual beneath, the thickly-lashed sockets reveal the eyes of the wearer; a magic woven into the mask itself reflect the irises beneath as being a sparkling, warm green. The broad, smooth forehead betrays youthful vigour, and just shy of the hairline rest two vestigial horns, the inch-high nubs covered in a tawny velvet.

------------------------------------------------------


For those not familiar with their local Achaean reprobates, we were Lyaeus (the lecherous bard) and Trixy (the Mysian madame); the idea was a playful, tongue-in-cheek jab at our actual characters.

Kresslack

I remember stealing the seahorse-driven chariot from Lothos and bring it back to land during once trip, just riding around in it. People where wondering where the hell I got it. 

This was me for the next hour after:

Jurixe

I have done some pretty crazy things in the course of running events, but I have never tried to host a murder mystery party in THREE DAYS with 0 experience of what a murder mystery actually is. I'd been trying to organise one for some time, but timing just wasn't working out and suddenly this weekend opened up - I asked Ruth 'should we just do it this weekend?' 'Yes!' So I blame her for that.

Mad mad mad mad maddddd props to the characters and how they played their roles. I wrote the entire script the night before and literally 2 hours before the event, and they only got their scripts in the middle of the event itself (it was split into 3 acts) so they all did amazing. @Sherazad, @Terrance, @Suladan, @Aegoth, @Ulrike and @Xer, you guys were champions. @Ruth as the coroner too! @Sartan also provided some pre-event entertainment with the denizens and helping me start the opening act - thank you!

A behind the scenes snippet:

Ulrike says to Suladan with an affected aristocratic accent, "Swords at a high banquet? I should 

think it's you."

Suladan says to Ulrike in a deep, growling voice, "I drink now. I get smarter. I figure out."

Melodie says soothingly to Suladan in Mhaldorian with a flowing, cultured accent, "There there now, Baron, you should have some good drinks in hand."

(Party): Sherazad says, "I think I was able to do what was listed :O."

Alynna performs a graceful curtsey towards all present, and rises, giving the sign of the Seven.

Aegoth says to Xer in a sly, shady timbre voice, "You could be giving people unworldly pleasure with my stuff... make them sing like Venasia was singing each time she injected my gleam into her veins."

Baron Vukub downs another tankard.

Sherazad sips lightly from a cool glass of brown tea.

Aegoth curls his lip and sneers arrogantly at Sherazad.

Ulrike frowns and says to Suladan with an affected aristocratic accent, "I hope you figure out the case of the missing purple elephants."

Terrance says in a gruff and haughty voice, "I'M the Lord of Blackrock! How dare that girl think she could be with someone else lower than I!"

(Party): You say, "Sherazad, you're horrified."

You notice a terrible smell in the air and see that Suladan is trying to look inconspicuous.

Sherazad says to Aegoth in a clear, bell-like voice, "Go away, you horrid beast."

Sherazad cringes pathetically.

Suladan utters a deep, rumbling laugh at Terrance.

Suladan says in a deep, growling voice, "You so SMALL!"

(Party): You say, "What has Mhaldor done to Venasia?"

Suladan utters a deep, rumbling laugh at Terrance.

(Party): You say, "Suladan, brag about your kills."

(Party): You say, "In battle."

Suladan thrusts out his chest and boasts of his exploits.

(Party): You say, "Next up will be you, Ulrike."

Suladan says in a deep, growling voice, "I kill dragon for my cloak."

Sherazad says angrily in a clear, bell-like voice, "Those blasted Lord and Lady of Enverren! They 

deprived me of my daughter! I looked at her grow from afar. I knew she shouldn't have been sent to Mhaldor. While they deserve what happened to them, it shouldn't have come from my poor baby."

Ulrike says to Suladan with an affected aristocratic accent, "Mmhmm."

Suladan says in a deep, growling voice, "I kill dragon for my boots."

Sherazad blushes furiously.

Suladan says to Terrance in a deep, growling voice, "You clean their claws."

Ulrike says disdainfully to Sherazad with an affected aristocratic accent, "You are weak, nixie."

Suladan utters a deep, rumbling laugh at Terrance.

Cresil looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

(Party): You say, "Talk about salamandrins."

Sherazad says to Ulrike in a clear, bell-like voice, "My daughter was trained here in strength. What 

became of her now?"

Sherazad stares mournfully at the world around her, a single tear running down her cheek.

Baron Vukub downs another tankard.

Xer sidles up beside Alynna, looking at the Baron and Lord Barak with a disdainful look on his face.

Suladan says in a deep, growling voice, "Must .. get .. smarter!"

Ulrike frowns and says to Sherazad with an affected aristocratic accent, "Trained in strength. Looks like she just didn't have the potential."

Aegoth casts a glance at Alynna and hastily hides himself from her view.

(Party): You say, "Aegoth, say that Demian looks a bit brokenhearted."

(Party): You say, "For an incubus."

Suladan hiccups suddenly.

Alynna bends slightly to calmly smooth the skirts of her robes, gracefully righting herself once 

satisfied.

(Party): You say, "And act ii is done, unless I've missed anything."

With serene grace, Alynna folds her hands before herself.

Ulrike stares implacably at Alynna.

Sherazad says to Ulrike in a clear, bell-like voice, "Impossible! If they let me raise her, she 

would not have to deal with all the unnecessary cruelties!"

(Party): Xer says, "Um."

(Party): Ruth says, "Looks like we got it all."

Aegoth whispers in a sly, shady timbre voice, "Demian seems rather flustered... broken for an incubus. How sad... how pathetic. If only he had soething to pick him up from such a pit."

(Party): You say, "Ruth, you'll begin act iii with new revelations."

(Party): Xer says, "I didn't really say much about how good she was in bed."

(Party): You say, "Oh."

(Party): Xer says, "After Aegoth's relevation."

Suladan says in a deep, growling voice, "Ink bus?"

Jurixe

And for the @Xer fangirls I know are out there....

Lord Marshal Hasar Lichlord asks Xer in Mhaldorian, "Where is the rest of your clothes?"

Xer smiles sweetly at Hasar.

Xer says to Hasar in Mhaldorian in a low, husky voice, "Why, these are my clothes, Lord Marshal. If 

you're the type to rip them off my body, I'd love to dress up for you."

Xer winks conspiratorially at Hasar.

Nakari

man, now I wish I'd remembered it was a thing before realizing it was going on and I didn't have a ticket.

@Jurixe too good at events

Xer

http://pastebin.com/9djcHW2w

Editted log of the entire event. Should be accurate hopefully.

Melodie

Speaking as someone who has been apart (and hosted) several murder mysteries over the years, this has been by far the best one to date. Mad props to @Jurixe.

Terra

Got invited to a RL party the same night and missed this. Weep. WHY THE TIMING?!

Aodfionn

With a quiet grunt, Aodfionn lowers down to his knees beside the font of Growth, and invites to you join him.

Ruca kneels beside Aodfionn.

Your eyes twinkle enchantingly.

Aodfionn smiles softly. Lowering his head, he closes his eyes and takes your hands in his in solemn quiet for a brief moment. .

Harbinger Aodfionn Wintermourne, Aarashi Proselytizer whispers with a thick Trollish accent, "O Blessed Lightbringer, Lady Aurora, we kneel before You this day, to call upon the Rite of the Bloodsworn."

Harbinger Aodfionn Wintermourne, Aarashi Proselytizer whispers with a thick Trollish accent, "O Holy Fire, Lord Deucalion, we kneel before You this day, to call upon the Rite of the Bloodsworn."

You gently reach over and take both of Aodfionn's hands in your own.

Harbinger Aodfionn Wintermourne, Aarashi Proselytizer whispers with a thick Trollish accent, "In our faith in the piety of our Bloodsworn, we would guide each other to submit wholly to Light, and to commit Righteous acts."

Harbinger Aodfionn Wintermourne, Aarashi Proselytizer whispers with a thick Trollish accent, "We call upon You to bless our union, in mirror of Your Holy bond, that we may use the strength of Good to bring deliverance to the stricken and cleansing to our world."

Motes of blue and white light burst forth from the font of Growth, quickly coalescing into a radiant,

warming aura that envelops you both.

In your very soul, you can hear the Lady and Lord's voices, thundering in union: "Blessed be your union. May your vows remain unbroken. May your devotion bring us closer to victory. Know Our strength!"

You blush furiously.

With the greatest reverence, Aodfionn humbly requests of you the honour of the Bloodsworn. In order to accept, you must bloodswear to him as well.

You are now formally Bloodsworn with Aodfionn.

From my Bsworn's perspective. Posted because Bloodswearing is awesome and can/should be more than just a utility skill. 

Jeslyn

Congratulations, @Aodfionn! Honestly, I must be a bit dumb, but I didn't know you were a paladin for awhile. I just thought you had been given a whole bunch of devotional skills.

Vayne

Impromptu rally at the Founders' Monument in Hashan, quite a few expressed their regrets that they were unable to stay for it so here it is for those who missed it and those who might be interested to see what is going on inside Hashan right now.

Founders' Monument.
Nestled between intersections of the Parade of Founders, the amphitheatre of the Founders Monument
rises here. Black marble seats able to host a large crowd rest exposed to the sky, forming a
crescent around a raised platform rising from the memorial's centre. Showing signs of age and the
ravages of numerous gatherings and assemblies, the structure's features are worn. Although kept
clean of debris, the ground is heavily trodden. Upon the raised platform is a circle of statues,
each crafted in honour of the brave mortals who founded the glorious city of Hashan. A statue of
Grind stands here. A statue of Darthus stands here. A statue of Elentari stands here. A restored
statue of Firefox stands here. A sewer grate looms darkly beneath your feet. A ruined statue of
Rhenn stands here. A fierce virago carefully scans the area for signs of trouble. There are 3
mounted tsalmaveths here. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A hanging apple adorned
with a bay leaf swings slightly from woven string. A hooded nocturni, crackling with blue streaks of
electrical discharge, patrols this area. A black and gold pennon flaps in the wind, bearing the city
arms of Hashan. Antlers of jet black crown the head of a proud ivory peryton. A nebulous water weird
is here. Wings wrapped about herself, a ghost bat hangs from a nearby perch. A clandestine black
falcon blends into the shadows, silently surveying its surroundings. A black marble bench with a
covering of black fur is here. Marshal Pathers Xanatov-Thorngage, Night's Jester is here. He wields
a throwing axe in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right. Disciple Sarieno Kindfire,
Swordsman of the Crown is here. Ayleth Fol'ia is riding on an ivory peryton. She wields a midnight
black staff in her left hand and Duskwench, an esoteric shield of ice and shadow in her right.
Ginovianna Nyxillum, Alchemical Apprentice is here. Disciple Yurdan, Student of Discipline is here,
giving off a truly ghastly stench. He wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand. Hedge Wytch
Randathen is here. Disciple Kraal Thorngage, Student of Respect is here. He wields an elemental
staff in his left hand. Disciple Shalar, Student of Unity is here. His face is partially concealed
beneath a raised hood. Explorer Hanae d'Himea is here. Wytch Master, Kroac Akhrim, The Landcleaver
is here.
You see exits leading east and south.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Welcome fellow citizens, it heartens me to see you all gather here together."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "It is a testament to the rediscovered unity we share as citizens of the Crown, individual facets adding to its splendor."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Like all great accomplishments the Crown was founded with and by a purpose. Hashan stands as a physical embodiment of the will of the Dark Father."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The words etched into the Dome ring true today, without Darkness, we are nothing."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "From His loyal followers rose up our greatest leader, Lady Elentari, immortalized here."

You incline your head politely to a statue of Elentari.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Who as many of you well know ascended to become our heavenly Mother, Lady Ourania, Goddess of the Moon."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Together in ages gone by with the additional aid of Lady Valnurana, Hashan rose up with its four great Houses, each bestowed with great purpose for the good of our growing state."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The Cult of the Serpentlords, the watchful eyes of the Crown, protecting our streets from all those who would seek to snuff us out."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The Spiritwalkers, walking the line between worlds to guard us against all threats supernatural."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The Merchants of the Crown, diligently working to see the Crown grow and prosper."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "And the Sect of the Black Lotus, relentlessly assailing the enemies of the Crown."

You crease your brow in a frown.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "However, over the years, this unity, this mutual intention and trust has faded."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Some of those very houses so vital to the Crown's sustainment have betrayed those responsibilities and fallen away."

You ask in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "But what remains?"

Vayne stands at the centre of the amphitheatre's platform, arms outstretched.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Look around you and see!"

Nadryne does as instructed, scanning the faces of those around her with keen interest.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The world mocks and assails us, attempting to break our spirit and will."

Nadryne creases her brow in a frown.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Moreso, we have seen those who cannot endure turn and betray us, abandoning the oaths they swore before the Gods."

Stretching in a fiery arc that embraces the world, the triune rings of Achaea blaze in response to the first kiss of dawn.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Yet, the faithful remnant remains, you have proven your commitment to the Crown."

The metallic tang of chemicals floats upon a calm breeze.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "To inevitably rise once more to the place the Dark Father intended it to be."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "You have been blessed with Eyes to See and Ears to Hear and are privileged to labour together in the Great Work we have started."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "For that is the true and original purpose of the Crown, a place of enlightenment, transcendence."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "...true freedom."

Kyllglor gives an enthusiastic "Huzzah!" at the top of his voice, pumping his arms in the air.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Freedom from oppression by sword and by the zealous word."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The ability to plumb out truth wherever it may lie and embrace it without fear."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "That is why we progress despite Oakstone and its savage armies assailing us."

Randathen's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Why we oppose the close-minded zealotry dominating Targossas and Mhaldor."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Why we seek more than mere Oblivion and by no means wait idly by as it approaches."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "Hashan endures, this is true."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "But we must not be satisfied with mere existence."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "We have seen where that leads, apathy and insignificance."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "A joke among the city-states."

You say in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "We must rise up, progress, and surpass their petty and shortsighted goals and become the true utopia they all claim to seek."

You ask in Hashani in a warm, confident voice, "The Work must be accomplished, who will labour with me?"

Kyllglor raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Randathen raises his voice and proclaims, "Aye!".

Randathen blushes furiously.

Nadryne's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Ginovianna nods her head at you.

Kyllglor gives an enthusiastic "Huzzah!" at the top of his voice, pumping his arms in the air.

Valentinus says in a gratified, honeyed voice, "I will, and I think I speak for us all."

Kraal nods at you.

Nadryne nods her head at you.

Balkin nods his head emphatically.

Aoghinius says to you in a calm voice, "All the Crown will."

Kroac says with a light, grook accent, "I will join you, and Hashan, until our work is finished."

Hanae nods her head emphatically.

Ayleth tentatively raises her hand into the air.

Balkin says in a deep, commanding voice, "I work before, I work now, and I work forever into the future."

Kraal says in Hashani in an enchanting staccato voice, "Yes, we will."

Sarieno raises a fist in the air, an obvious salute.

Kyllglor, of Hashan says, "Im in."

Calling out boldly, Pathers attempts to rally Balkin to his cause.

Tyamat says with a fading Ashtani accent, "We will endure and we will become stronger and stronger."

You yell, "Glory to the Crown, let us labour together until the Work is accomplished!"

Kyllglor flexes his muscles in an impressive display of strength.

Tyamat says with a fading Ashtani accent, "The path in front of us is not an easy road."

You see Professor Valentinus Xanatov-Jinx, Chymist of the Third Eye yell, "Glory to the Crown."

Pathers asks with a deep, tasur accent, "When has it ever?"

You see Wytch Master, Kroac Akhrim, The Landcleaver yell, "Glory to the Crown and to the Night!"

Tyamat says with a fading Ashtani accent, "But I have seen strength in each and every one of you.
The strength that will lead us to glory."

Kraal says to Tyamat in Hashani in an enchanting staccato voice, "Better to strengthen us, Seneschal."

Herenicus

Here is the Evil account of the recent exchange between Mhaldor and Targossas. 

Amarillys

Herenicus said:

Here is the Evil account of the recent exchange between Mhaldor and Targossas.

That was hot.

Melodie

So a few days ago, some strange events started happening to Melodie and @Saeva. Originally we thought it was Twilight just being Twilight, but as things progressed, we both agreed it didn't really make sense. It got quite creepy and interesting, and has an extremely surprise ending. It was quite a lot of fun and I was exceptionally impressed. Below is the two different interactions. The first part took place directly after I finished hosting a small House activity.

https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/16b6701e

While the second part took place several (real) hours later on that day.

https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/23814bd9

So as to not spoil the surprise, I'll spoiler the rest of my comments - I wouldn't suggest looking until you've finished reading!

[spoiler]Kuy, you did an amazing job. I have absolutely never been so tricked in my entire near ten years of playing Achaea, quite so convinced. While I admit I was a little disappointed about it not ending up being Babel, or related to the present event, it was still highly interested and huge break in some present monotony. Very well done. Thank you for the thought that went into it, and for not stringing me along too long.
[/spoiler]

Kuy

Trey

Melodie said:

So a few days ago, some strange events started happening to Melodie and @Saeva. Originally we thought it was Twilight just being Twilight, but as things progressed, we both agreed it didn't really make sense. It got quite creepy and interesting, and has an extremely surprise ending. It was quite a lot of fun and I was exceptionally impressed. Below is the two different interactions. The first part took place directly after I finished hosting a small House activity.

https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/16b6701e

While the second part took place several (real) hours later on that day.

https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/23814bd9

So as to not spoil the surprise, I'll spoiler the rest of my comments - I wouldn't suggest looking until you've finished reading!

[spoiler]Kuy, you did an amazing job. I have absolutely never been so tricked in my entire near ten years of playing Achaea, quite so convinced. While I admit I was a little disappointed about it not ending up being Babel, or related to the present event, it was still highly interested and huge break in some present monotony. Very well done. Thank you for the thought that went into it, and for not stringing me along too long.
[/spoiler]

@Kuy made me laugh so hard just now. That shit is amazing. 

Bluef

@Caoimhaen recently met with his auntie Bluef for tea and she perceived something troubling him the moment he walked in. Then this attempt at a tarot reading ensued:

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "Let me read for you, Cao. Perhaps I can help make this clearer for you."

Caoimhaen nods.

Bluef clears off the nearby chessboard and covers it with a silk scarf previously tied around her tarot deck.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "I need you to focus on this question."

You tell Preceptor Caoimhaen Akechi-Abaoth, Master of the Open Palm, "What influences are surrounding my current path?"

You tap your nose knowingly.

Comprehension flashes across Caoimhaen's face.

Bluef shuffles the deck of tarot cards three times, concentrating her gaze on Caoimhaen as she does so.

Caoimhaen closes his eyes a moment and nods slightly.

Breaking her gaze from you Bluef places three cards face-up on the scarf.

Bluef touches the first card and whispers, "This card represents you, your self or ego, the root of why you ask the question."

Frowning Bluef shows you that it is the Eight of Swords, bearing a picture of a man sitting in a bed, holding his head in his hands crying.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "Do you see how the eight swords surround the man's form?"

Caoimhaen nods.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "They keep him trapped and depressed."

You crease your brow in a frown.

Preceptor Caoimhaen Akechi-Abaoth, Master of the Open Palm says in a quiet voice, "Y-yes."

You have emoted: Bluef whispers, "This card represents past influences."

Bluef touches the card lightly and draws back her hand so you can see it is a numbered card. Thirteen. The Death card.

Caoimhaen blinks.

Bluef tries to hide her frown as she allows you to take in the visage of a skeleton on horseback, carrying a black flag over people begging for temperance.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "This card represents change."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "Change in yourself. In your relationships with others."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "This card is not all it seems."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "It tells you to learn from your experiences and not to fear change."

Caoimhaen's face darkens slightly.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "Do not get stuck in a place where you see all the past changes bringing you to the Eight of Swords, Cao."

You smile softly.

You whisper in a gentle, ethereal voice, "This represents the future and your current situation."

Caoimhaen looks from you to it, nervousness showing clearly in his features.

Bluef lifts the card up by its electrum-gilded edge so you can see that it bears The Tower. It has a picture of a castle tower being leveled by a lightning strike. In this spread, however, it is reversed.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "This is not a card of destiny but the sudden outcomes of everything you are doing in your life right now."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "The Tower tells us that you are in the process of change..."

Bluef studies the card, her head tilted as if listening to an unseen presence nearby.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "The reversed Tower gives you the advice to let go of everything you once knew."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "This is a card of Hope."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "On the other side of where you are now, is peace and endless opportunity."

Caoimhaen nods slightly.

Bluef whispers a soft prayer, thanking the spirits for their honesty and then picks the cards up, shuffling them back into her deck.

Wrapping the silken scarf around the deck Bluef looks at Caoimhaen intently, her gaze not on what is unseen but on his face for the first time since their meeting.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "You must meditate on what these cards showed you."

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "And think about what it is that you are not letting go."

Caoimhaen nods slightly.

Caoimhaen laughs nervously.

You say in a gentle, ethereal voice, "The spirits see all things, even what you hide from yourself."

Preceptor Caoimhaen Akechi-Abaoth, Master of the Open Palm says in a quiet voice, "But.. Auntie.."

You say sternly in a gentle, ethereal voice, "Trust in their wisdom and trust your new friends, and most importantly trust yourself."

Not her best reading, but definitely not her worst, especially given that Bluef probably hasn't picked up a tarot deck since the last big Occultist House Kissing Booth event before Year 400. 

I really love being able to embrace some different forms of divination as a shaman!

Trilliana

Now I totally want @Bluef to do a card reading for Trilli

Tharvis

Daeir said:

Caoimhaen's been a naughty, naughty boy.

isn't he always?