Roleplay Logs!

Exelethril

The Dragon melts away from Florentino, leaving him an Atavian once again.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Looks to be a pretty good group, we can begin."

Florentino raises his black-gloved hands and begins to weave them in a mesmerizing pattern, creating trailing patterns of light as he goes.

On the tableau of light, a vision of Baelgrim appears, several major fires giving off large black plumes of smoke.

A vision of hand-to-hand combat between wraiths and infernal knights against forestal sentinels and dragons plays out.

Florentino smirks as he watches the lightwall show a Naga being tripped by the Speaker, impaled by Sir Exelethril the knight, and viciously disemboweled as he screams for his maker.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Rangers and soldiers."

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "In response to another extermination from the foul necromancers of the West, this month we said enough was enough."

Bleak says in an annoyingly loud voice, "We sure did."

Florentino frowns as the lightwall depicts a lone apostate in the wilds, sneering as he stretches his hands towards the undergrowth, using necromancy to defile Nature's precious gift.

Suddenly, Ainly is beset upon from all sides, as a hail of arrows, rocks, and daggers quickly fells him.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "We took the fight directly to Mhaldor in a way they have not seen in many years, though no doubt our efforts in the past few years have also not gone unnoticed."

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Fearless in the face of death, you, the protectors and guardians of Nature and the wilds, willingly gave up your lives again and again to cut down those who oppose us. I heard not a complaint, not a whimper as your generals and leaders commanded you into the fray."

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Why do we do this?"

The illusory lightwall shifts scenes again, this time depicting a heavily-armored army of ormyrr with columns of dalamyrr flying above.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Because we understand the grave threat that Mhaldor has posed in the past, and will pose again whenever we give it the opportunity to by letting our swords rust or our muscles atrophy."

The surrounding forest rustles with life, in preparation of the coming dawn.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "The tainting of Shala-Khulia, one of the gravest crimes against Nature in the past several hundred years, was their doing. We have a large swatch of blighted land that will likely never see the life and light of Nature again to remind us. The summoning and use of Bal'met the Worldreaver was their doing, and we have the death of Shallam, its sunken watery ruins to remind us."

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "I will personally not stand for there to be another such incident. We will train, we will fight, and we will die to save this world from the scourge of Necromancy and the twisted, corrupting influence of Lord Sartan."

Florentino allows himself a small smile.

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

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "We all did very well this day. But we are not done yet with this world, not by a longshot. Mhaldorus, their city guardian and one of the most powerful demons this side of the Inferno, still taints this earth. And there are many more threats even once we conquer this one - the lies and machinations of the Hashani, and the powerful Chaotic magic of the northerners."

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "So I ask you to lift up your arms with me and pray to our Goddesses, Lady Gaia and Lady Artemis, that they may endow us with the strength we need for all the work that is yet to come."

Florentino raises his hands to the bright red morning sky, waiting for the Rangers to follow.

Bleak raises his hands.

Kondar raises his hands high.

Mycen raises glass in hand high.

Colgano raises his hand in the air.

Deladan raises his hands skywards.

Rangor raises his hands high.

Everley raises her hands up to the sky.

Coto raises his hands to the sky.

Jaenelle raises her hands high.

Borran raises his hands to the bright red morning sky.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Lady Gaia, Lady Artemis, watch over and protect us, we the sons and daughters of the earth. Guide our arrows and our axes true that they may reach their intended mark. Soothe our wounds and salve our spirits when necromancy's power seeps through the earth and despair seeps through our hearts."

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "And never let us shirk or despise our charge to cultivate a world where Nature will reign forevermore."

Low, rhythmic humming resonates throughout the village, the rising of the sun celebrated in dryadic prayer.

Blackthorn General Florentino Milani, Guardian of Nature says in Eleusian, "Let us be relentless until the day of our final rest, when that which is borrowed from the earth - the gift of life - is inevitably returned. Amen."

Landon drops to one knee.

Rangor flashes Florentino a joyous smile.

Mycen says with a soft, purring accent, "Amen."

Tendril Colgano Vorondil, of the Ithmian Violets's breath crackles and sparks as he says, "Amen."

Jaenelle says with a soft, melodic purring accent, "Amen."

Bleak nods his head emphatically.

Vice Admiral Kondar Veranius, Arboreal Shadow says, "Hear hear!"

Vice Admiral Kondar Veranius, Arboreal Shadow says, "Amen."

Rangor says in a deep, rumbling voice, "Right on."

Everley's breath crackles and sparks as she says, "Amen."

Coto says with a softening Mhaldorian accent, "Amen."

Landon says in a rough, feral voice, "Amen."

Rangor says in a deep, rumbling voice, "Well fought everyone. Keep your backs guarded in the coming days."

Colgano gives the world a smart salute.

Vice Admiral Kondar Veranius, Arboreal Shadow says to Florentino, "Thank you, General."

Jurixe

The last post in this thread was almost a full year ago. Come on, guys.

To start things off, here's a very old log from when the Naga still existed. In this, Jurixe is testing one of her proteges.

[spoiler]You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "Nameless, come here. Now."

You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "The crossroads."

Tyur bows respectfully to you.

Jurixe's grey eyes flash with irritation before she nods her head to you, looking 

visibly agitated.

You rattle: Listen closely.

You rattle: I received information that a mhun scout has been caught spying in the city. Our guards 

intercepted him attempting to leave, with some kind of letter in his hands.

You rattle: He escaped through the sewers, but I want him found, slain, and that letter retrieved.

You rattle: Enlist the aid of one or two others if you need to, but no more than that.

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: Where should I begin the search?

You rattle: I can take you into the sewers, but after that you are on your own.

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

You rattle: He could be anywhere in the sewers by now, and I know there are other scouts hiding 

within as well.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: I will run a sweep.

You rattle: Slay them all. You will know when you have found the right one, as you will find the 

letter, no doubt.

You rattle: Assuming he has not burnt it by now.

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

You rattle: Do you wish to do this alone, or find another?

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: I will attempt this alone, Mentor.

You rattle: Very well.

[moving to the sewers]

Jurixe glances about the area, furrowing her brow slightly.

Below a junction of Mhaldor Road. (Sewers of Mhaldor)

What little light that filters through the iron grate overhead is augmented somewhat by the eldritch 

glow of enchanted spheres set into the stone walls of this confluence of sewer pipes. The floor is 

level and smooth stone, with innumerable outlets from the higher elevations of the city. From their 

gaping maws, gruesome gargoyles of twisted and deformed visage spout a constant sluice of stinking 

waste that spatters into the stream of offal below. One trench leads into a massive stone pipe that 

guides the ponderous flow of sludge and refuse down towards the base of the mountain upon which 

Mhaldor stands. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. Standing proudly, a forestal portal 

is here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: I will begin my search immediately, Mentor.

You rattle: Now, glance or squint, if you can, upwards before you go in any upwards direction.

You rattle: If you take a wrong step it will take you outside.

 

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

You rattle: And then you will need assistance to return again.

You rattle: Good luck.

Tyur nods his head affirmatively.

With a flourish of his arm, Tyur bows deeply.

[a while later]

You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "Have you found him yet?"

Tyur tells you in Mhaldorian, "I've slain over 10 scouts but none of them were carrying a letter."

You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "I was told he escaped from the guards near the 

Mhaldorian marketplace. If you can find the sewer channel under there, that might be a good place to 

look."

Tyur tells you in Mhaldorian, "I've slain another scout here, but he carried no documents."

You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "Frustrating, surely he cannot have run that far."

Tyur tells you in Mhaldorian, "Aha."

You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "You found him?"

Tyur tells you in Mhaldorian, "It appears so."

Tyur tells you in Mhaldorian, "Beneath the council building."

You tell Nameless One, Tyur in Mhaldorian, "Excellent. Bring him to me at the stygian crossroads."

Tyur bows respectfully to you.

Tyur gives the corpse of a mhun scout to you.

Tyur shivers particularly intensely.

Jurixe nods her head slightly to Tyur, furrowing her brow as she notices his 

shivering.

Tyur gives a partially-burnt letter to you.

You rattle: Have that shivering seen to, Nameless.

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

Jurixe glances down at the letter, scanning it quickly.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: Right away, Naga.

You read what is written on a partially-burnt letter:

O Great Mhunna,

Months have.... by since my enslavement by the accurse  .  dor. . ..

think I h. . .........o stri. ...  em wh .. .ir numbers are low.

The plan can proceed .  ...g. ......          . ..       ... ...

I will contact you a. . .... w.. .urther de.....   . .

 ....

Frowning slightly, Jurixe nods to Tyur again as she folds up the letter.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: I've encountered a frost daemon and could only barely escape it.

Comprehension flickers briefly in Jurixe's grey eyes.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: There were 14 other scouts down there, I've slain them all.

You rattle: Ah, yes. I suppose I should have mentioned him, as well.

Jurixe nods her head slightly, looking satisfied.

You rattle: Excellent work in intercepting this letter. It looks like you caught him just before he 

managed to destroy the entire work.

Jurixe turns the letter slightly, frowning at it as if trying to discern more 

meaning from it.

You rattle: It remains that there is still a spy within the city, however. And we have hundreds of 

slaves, it could be any one of them.

Tyur frowns for a brief moment.

Jurixe exhales softly in a frustration-laced gesture.

Lying here with a gaping belly wound, a mhun scout has died painfully.

He weighs about 132 pounds.

You see nothing in it.

You rattle: There were no other effects on his body?

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: Just the letter, Mentor.

Jurixe glares distastefully down at the body splayed upon the cobblestones.

You rattle: Foolish wretches that share my race. A disgrace to the living.

You rattle: Very well. I will speak to the slave masters and have them cut all rations to half until 

this spy is found.

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: Can I be of further service, mentor?

You rattle: Yes. We will offer the corpse of this unworthy wretch to Lord Shaitan, that he may serve 

Him in death as he failed to do so in life.

You rattle: However.

You rattle: We will do it a special way.

You rattle: Come.

Jurixe beckons slightly to Tyur.

[moving]

Jurixe picks up the large book at the side of the road, flipping through it.

You rattle: Here we are.

Jurixe turns the book to you, pointing to the fifteenth page.

You rattle: Ritual of the Seven. Memorise this, then head to His shrine at the tree.

You rattle: Your dirk will suffice in place of a sacrificial blade.

Tyur takes the journal, his eyes flickering over the words as he memorizes them.

Tyur nods after a brief moment.

[walking to the shrine]

Tyur bows respectfully to Taerral.

Taerral gives Tyur a respectful salute.

Jurixe stands before the shrine, glancing at it for a moment before nodding briefly 

to Taerral.

You say in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "Begin when ready, my protege."

Taerral gives you a respectful salute.

Taerral leaves to the southwest.

Tyur strengthens his grip on his dirk as he steps towards the shrine.

Tyur lowers his head respectfully as he approaches the shrine, dragging the corpse of a mhun scout 

behind him.

Jurixe laces her gloved fingers together, watching silently from the side.

Nameless One, Tyur says reverently in Mhaldorian, "O' Lords, Accept these offerings."

Nameless One, Tyur says in Mhaldorian, "Of essence wrapped in blood and bones."

Nameless One, Tyur says in Mhaldorian, "Thine Truths, induce these sufferings."

Nameless One, Tyur says in Mhaldorian, "Pain echoed, 'round thy skull cast thrones."

Nameless One, Tyur chants in Mhaldorian, "Santus Perpessio."

Nameless One, Tyur chants in Mhaldorian, "Santus Dominatus."

Tyur briefly lowers his head in respect.

Nameless One, Tyur chants in Mhaldorian, "Amen."

Jurixe nods her dark head slightly, something resembling satisfaction in her grey 

eyes.

You say quietly in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "Amen."

Tyur swings the corpse of a mhun scout on the shrine and proceeds to spread out the limbs.

Jurixe watches intently, one hand resting idly on her wrist sheath.

Tyur takes his dirk and plunges it through the side of the mhun's throat in a swift motion.

Blood spatters everywhere from the wound, flecking the cobblestones in red.

Tyur tears the weapon up the wounds, spraying its bodily fluids everywhere as it finally rips free.

Tyur utters a determined grunt as he carves a seven into the carcass's exposed gut, intestines 

spilling out of one side.

Jurixe brushes a speck of blood absently off the hem of her dress, still focused on 

the evisceration.

The mhun corpse on the shrine oozes the last of its blood as flames rise up from it, consuming it 

until nothing is left except the smell of charred flesh.

Jurixe's shoulders slump in something resembling a sigh as she watches the 

conflagration, flames dancing briefly in her grey eyes before they subside. She turns to Tyur, a 

slight quirk to her lips.

Tyur watches the shrine with a grim expression and offers up the rest of the mhuns before turning to 

his mentor.

You rattle: Well done, my protege. Your performance this month has been exemplary.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: My thanks, Mentor.

You rattle: Now, if you are to remain long in the realms, go and assist the High Lord. It is my time 

to depart.

Tyur nods his head emphatically.

You rattle: I will be expecting that report soon.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: Very well, mentor.

You rattle: Dismissed.

Nameless One, Tyur rattles: Farewell, Mentor.

Tyur bows respectfully to you.

A ghostly apparition vanishes from sight to the ether.

Jurixe watches the Xoran melt into the shadows, the slight quirk to her lips remaining as she glances back to the shrine.[/spoiler]

Jurixe

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

Dragonknight

Uh, if I deleted something you said or did, it was probably dumb. Just kidding.  Sorry.

Sarathai

Jurixe said:

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

"A humble painter exclaims, "Not later, now, woman! The Gods themselves are my muse this day!""

Not gonna lie, I laughed.

Jurixe

Ordinarily I would have responded properly, but there was a lot of behind the scenes coordination going on and I didn't have time to do a proper response!

Ellodin

Related to the thread that requests logs of Babel, let's see some more of the serious things people take part in! I'll slowly post a few that have passed statute of limitations, assuming people are interested in small pieces of times gone by.

Melodie

All right, I'll bite.

So many of the logs I still have that are older have either already been shared, or are things I still can't share. After a bit of digging, though, I found a log of some of the things that helped to lead to the eventual decision to head to Mhaldor - at this particular point, it was just a few years after the first excommunication. Below are just some excepts of a few things, as well as a conversation between Mel and a particular denizen of interest. Can't quite share everything as there's loose threads still to be tied regarding all of this, but!

---

Her toga trailing behind her, Sylcine enters quietly from the west.

You incline your head politely to Sylcine, Maiden of Regret.

A white toga bound by a sash with argent embroidery falls loosely over the slender body of the maiden Sylcine, covering much of her form save her right arm and shoulder, and revealing her right calf. The young woman's face is calm and sanguine, with a faint smile on her delicate lips and a sparkle in her pale blue eyes. Pure white curls are pinned up above Sylcine's head and fall over her back and shoulders, decorated at the top by an insect-shaped pin. Her right hand is missing one finger, showing signs of severe mangling. Suspended from a leather cord, a rotting finger hangs from her neck, and a desiccated shrunken head dangles from her wrist.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret exudes an aura of overwhelming power.

She weighs about 115 pounds.

She is loyal to The City of Mhaldor.

You see nothing in it.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret exclaims something unintelligible.

You look thoughtful and say with a flowing, cultured accent, "My apologies. I didn't quite understand you."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "I did not expect to run into anyone."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Ah, well. I expect not. I'm simply here submitting a few things for Logosmas."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "I had thought to take up...er..."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret looks around quietly.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Uh.. jewellery making, yes. That's it."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Jewellery making is quite an interesting art. It takes practice and precision - and expense - but it is quite worth the effort."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Well, I have these keepsakes and I rather would like to suspend them from something other than a leather cord."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Oh? What sorts of keepsakes, if I may be nosy?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret grins mischievously at you.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "I do enjoy showing them off."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret holds up a severed finger, pushing it in your direction.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "I kept this after someone removed it. I thought the sentiment was nice."

You have emoted: Melodie manages a mild expression as she examines the finger with professional interest.

You carefully ask with a flowing, cultured accent, "Ah, your own finger, is it?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret lifts her wrist to display a shrunken head.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Curiously enough, no."

You have emoted: Melodie peers closely at the shrunken head, furrowing her brow in thought.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "My finger is in the temp-- erm, it's with a friend."

You say faintly with a flowing, cultured accent, "Oh, I see."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "I'm not quite sure I've ever mounted fleshy bits of people onto anything. I suspect you'd need some sort of agent to keep it from rotting, and then something that won't corrode the material."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Something unobtrusive."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "What do you think would be better for Gener-- the head here. Silver? Platinum?"

You tilt your head to one side, rub your chin, and thoughtfully declare "Hrm."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Silver tends to tarnish easily with age, especially in the presence of... acidic-like substances."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Platinum is a bit more expensive, but overall more hardy, I think."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Brass? bronze? iron?"

You ponder the situation.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Iron is a little too functional for my tastes."

You nod your head in agreement.

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Brass is lovely but probably a little common-place, truly. I do adore bronze, though."

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "Bronze and platinum composes of the majority of my own things, a little silver here and there."

You say to Sylcine, Maiden of Regret with a flowing, cultured accent, "For you, perhaps platinum, though, to better match your appearance."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Stunning."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret ponders you with a contemplative expression.

You have emoted: Melodie raises an eyebrow as she cants her head.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Well, now that's quite curious."

You ask with a flowing, cultured accent, "Hmm?"

Sylcine says absently, "Give me your hand a moment, dear?"

You have emoted: Melodie eyes Sylcine, Maiden of Regret curiously.

You say with a flowing, cultured accent, "May I ask what for?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "You seem so familiar, and yet not. Maiden's honour, nothing too nefarious."

You have emoted: Melodie hesitates momentarily, before extending her hand to Sylcine, Maiden of Regret.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret extends her hand, gently taking yours and peering at it for a moment. She extends her thumb along your palm and nicks the skin ever so slightly before patting and returning your hand to you.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret brings her thumb to her mouth and tastes the tiny drop of blood.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Ah, yes. Of course. I see."

You have emoted: Melodie winces in surprise, withdrawing her hand as she frowns down critically at it, before gazing up at Sylcine.

You cautiously ask with a flowing, cultured accent, "You see what?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Hmm?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Be a dear would you?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Mail me something platinum?"

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "That hale lad over on the bridge before Delos knows how to find me."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret ponders you with a contemplative expression.

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Yes. Quite after all. Just as I thought."

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret winks conspiratorially at you.

Brushing away a stray curl, Sylcine leaves quietly to the west.

(The next day, sitting at the Ornate Shrine in Cyrene)

The acrid smell of spluttering torches burns your nose, as your field of view is replaced with the interior of a cave, firelight dancing upon the dark stones. You become slowly aware of rhythmic chanting surrounding you before your vision clears again.

You have emoted: Melodie rubs at her nose vigorously a moment, sniffing lightly. After a moment, she simply slowly shakes her head.

(Decide to go hunting in the scorpion pit in the Mhojave to clear the mind)

Your vision swims again momentarily. The chanting voices grow louder, yelling over the din caused by a struggling victim. One figure steps forward before her and unrolls a length of fresh vellum. He begins to speak directly to her, his hand raised over her.

You have emoted: Melodie stares off fixedly at a point in the distance, her eyes widened somewhat the scene before her.

The black figure says, "And the Prophet spoke: The agony of separation from the true Evil born of Creation is known only by those who have walked with Truth and have been expelled from His plan. Praise to the one who exploits this agony in all who know it."

Your vision swims, and you sway with dizziness as the cave returns to normal.

You have emoted: Melodie trembles slightly, shaking her head several times as she rubs her eyes hard, clearing her vision. As she gazes about at the cave, her gaze rests on a large black scorpion, her expression perplexed.

You whisper with a flowing, cultured accent, "What in the bloody hells am I even seeing? Some woman being tortured?"

You murmur softly to yourself.

You have emoted: Finally, Melodie shakes her head, rubbing her left temple.

east

Sandy cave-in (indoors).

A hefty cave-in has created an impenetrable wall of sand that blocks any further progress down this tunnel. Overhead, the tunnel roof has cracked and buckled, dropping thin streams of sand from above, adding to the huge drift before you. The occasional thud signifies further large collapses of the unstable walls around. A bloodroot plant is growing here. Some irid moss gives off dim light. A patch of lumic moss is growing here. Sculpted into the shape of a beautiful woman's body thrown lifelessly across a wide, low-backed throne, a statue of the sufferance of Evil stands here.

You see exits leading north and east.

p statue

The figure of a beautiful young woman, garbed in resplendent ceremonial attire, has been carved from the mottled black granite of this statue. Long, graceful legs are crossed and draped over one arm of the wide, low-backed chair while her head hangs lifelessly over the other side, stomach forming a sacred, bloodstained table for offerings. In one extended hand she still clutches the knife used to end her brief mortal existence, the final blow indicated by the bloodsteel accentuating the gaping wound that nearly severs her exposed neck from her shoulders.

It weighs about 375 pounds.

You have emoted: Melodie stops dead, staring at a statue of the sufferance of Evil with a mixture of surprise and horror.

touch statue

As you reach out to touch the statue, a blinding flash of light knocks you backwards onto the ground while the room twists and changes.

You look upon an ornately decorated ritual chamber, and before you is a massive iron throne of a forgotten land. Suddenly the door bursts open behind you, and you hear a maiden struggling.

Two soldiers in full regalia enter through the opened door, dragging a maiden between them. She kicks and struggles against their massive forms, her wail of protest growing quieter as she understands its futility.

From within the folds of his uniform, one soldier produces a long athame while the other holds the maiden. His lips moving in silent prayer, the first man slices the throat of the maiden decisively as blood flows down her ceremonial dress.

The two men drape the murdered sacrifice over the iron throne carefully, arranging her limbs and placing the dagger within her outstretched arm. They kneel before her, raising their blades in fervent prayer, though their voices fade to a hushed whisper.

As the room returns to its original appearance, you realise you have been panting, and a thin film of sweat dampens your back.

The head of the statue lifts up momentarily as the maiden looks into your eyes.

The sacrificed maiden tells you, 'Praise the Lord of Evil if another imposes slavery upon you, that you will be broken. For true enslavement will never be chosen.'

You have emoted: Melodie shakily falls to her knees, holding her stomach as she lowers her head, breathing slowly to try and instill calm within her once more.

Sandy cave-in (indoors).

A hefty cave-in has created an impenetrable wall of sand that blocks any further progress down this tunnel. Overhead, the tunnel roof has cracked and buckled, dropping thin streams of sand from above, adding to the huge drift before you. The occasional thud signifies further large collapses of the unstable walls around. A bloodroot plant is growing here. Some irid moss gives off dim light. A patch of lumic moss is growing here.

You see exits leading north and east.

You have emoted: Melodie finally lifts her head up, gazing about her in mute surprise as she notices the lack of the statue. She bites her bottom lip hard.

You have emoted: Slowly but surely, Melodie gets to her feet, her stance a bit unsteady. After making sure her equilibrium is regained, she gazes about the cave before pulling her cloak tightly to her, quickly departing.

Ellodin

I'm at work right now, so I don't have my full collection (not that I log/logged very much to begin with, it's only what I felt like copy/pasting), only things that I put somewhere online at some point. Here's something light-hearted. I'll add a bonus, because it's more of a quote than a log.

You bow respectfully to Mithraea.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "The joys of Lady Sol."&nbsp;<br><br>You bow respectfully to Hermes.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Greetings, Archprelate."&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Running in place, eh? Interesting."&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says, "Keeps Me in shape."&nbsp;<br><br>The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea smirks.&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Round is a shape."&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes puts His hands on His hips and goes "Hmmm!"&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea puts Her hands on Her hips and goes "Hmmm!"&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says to Mithraea, "Was that an insult?"&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes scratches His head in confusion.&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea ponders the situation.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps."&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere asks you, "Was it?"&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps we should play a game of luck, Brother."&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says, "I'm all ears."&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea ponders the situation.&nbsp;<br><br>You peer at Hermes unscrupulously.&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "You don't look like all ears."&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea winces in pain.&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says to Mithraea, "Not a bright one, eh?"&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Apparently not."&nbsp;<br><br>You scratch your head in confusion.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps We should drop him randomly somewhere."&nbsp;<br><br>"Eek!" you shout in fright.&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says, "I hope he's a quick one."&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Chances are it could be with her."&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea spits on the ground in disgust.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Or perhaps not."&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes's face brightens visibly with a broad grin.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says to you, "Make it back within a minute, and you shall be forgiven."&nbsp;<br><br>You tilt your head to one side, rub your chin, and thoughtfully declare "Hrm."&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Don't and...well...We shall see."&nbsp;<br><br>You say to Mithraea in a quiet but clear voice, "Lady Sol, I'm scaaared..."&nbsp;<br><br>You manage to pull yourself out of the quicksand, and crawl onto solid ground to the ether.&nbsp;<br>Outside the Cave (road).&nbsp;<br><br>The ground gets closer and closer, then you suddenly connect with the sharp rocks at the base of the waterfall.&nbsp;<br><br>A base of a waterfall.&nbsp;<br>A fell werewolf prowls here.&nbsp;<br>You see exits leading north and south.&nbsp;<br>White flames lick over your skin, causing you to burst into flames.&nbsp;<br><br>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 to<br>your stomach, and your eyes begin to reel in your head, making the world lose focus and grow blurry. Darkness then envelopes you.&nbsp;<br><br>Your senses return to you as the blackout ends.&nbsp;<br>1131h, 4824m, 18396e, 21096w cxkdb-&nbsp;<br><br>You declare a pilgrimage, crossing the land in a single step.&nbsp;<br>Fish Street.&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Done."&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "That was cheating."&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Where was I! That was really strange!"&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea ponders the situation.&nbsp;<br><br>Squire Demandred Dawyn, Seeker of Valour says with a Shallamese accent, "One wonders if the divine missed their mark?"&nbsp;<br><br>Mithraea ponders the situation.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "Perhaps somewhere more...far away."&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Oh no...."&nbsp;<br><br>Ugrach's diademless place.&nbsp;<br>An echinacea root has been dropped here. Lord Ugrach stands to his full, gargantuan height and reviews his demesne with haughty pleasure.&nbsp;<br>There are no obvious exits.&nbsp;<br><br>(burst and real deaths here)&nbsp;<br><br>Fish Street.&nbsp;<br><br>You are dead and cannot do that.&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "Hi."&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says, "Well, he did make it back."&nbsp;<br><br>By the divine might of Mithraea, you are restored to life.&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes's face brightens visibly with a broad grin.&nbsp;<br><br>The corners of Mithraea's mouth turn up as She grins mischievously.&nbsp;<br><br>You say in a quiet but clear voice, "And within a minute!"&nbsp;<br><br>You raise your hands into the air and eagerly shout, "Woohoo!"&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes, the Messenger says, "Indeed."&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says to you, "Well done."&nbsp;<br><br>Your face brightens into a broad grin.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere has bestowed Her divine truefavour upon you. It will last for approximately 1 Achaean month.&nbsp;<br><br>You thank Mithraea profusely.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere asks you, "So, what have we learnt today, Archprelate?"&nbsp;<br><br>You say to Mithraea in a quiet but clear voice, "That round is not a shape!"&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes begins to wield the Golden Caduceus in His left hand.&nbsp;<br><br>Hermes chuckles long and heartily.&nbsp;<br><br>Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere says, "I suppose that will do."

And the more quote-y one, for the Celestia fans out there...

The Archangel Xadaphon Adoh shouts, "Mhaldor! Hearken unto the Light. Kneel and give praise for all that is Good. Cast aside your wicked ways<br>or all within your walls will be judged and found wanting!"&nbsp;<br><br>Casting off her final fetters, the luminous lady awakens fully, shedding her&nbsp;<br>joyful light from horizon to horizon.&nbsp;<br><br>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!"&nbsp;<br><br>The winged beings descend as one towards Mhaldor, illuminating the buildings and spires below.&nbsp;<br><br>Nulaye has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph.&nbsp;<br><br>Nulaye has been slain by the might of a brightly glowing cherub.&nbsp;<br><br>Sabiru has been slain by the might of a brightly glowing cherub.&nbsp;<br><br>Kaevan has been slain by the might of a champion angel.&nbsp;<br><br>Ethos has been slain by the might of a furious archangel.&nbsp;<br><br>Shalishaska has been slain by the might of a champion angel.&nbsp;<br><br>Moagedan has been slain by the might of a furious archangel.&nbsp;<br><br>Amunet has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph.&nbsp;<br><br>Simoln has been slain by the might of a champion angel.&nbsp;<br><br>Niahm has been slain by the might of a champion angel.&nbsp;<br><br>Mystie has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph.&nbsp;<br><br>Tali has been slain by the might of a furious archangel.&nbsp;<br><br>Kelandra has been slain by the might of a brightly glowing cherub.&nbsp;<br><br>Balynne has been slain by the might of a glorious seraph.

Ellodin

Alright, now that I'm home, a ritual from the Church that not too many active players experienced: consecration.

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
water.
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,
shadowy chamber.

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
behind.

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.

Halos

rite of prayer and old bonfire ritual thing from like a million years ago

Cloaked in sorrow, the vermillion moon begins to fade, giving way to the approaching dawn.

Approbating the beauty of the golden horizon, a crystalline vambrace suddenly flares to life on your forearm, transient whorls of aureate luminescence erupting from its glassy surface.

[offerings and chatter]

Bells chime out, greeting the dawn.

Cooper Ravenwind says, "We missed dawn."

You say, "Dawn arrives."
You say, "All kneel."
You say, "Save devotionists."

Alexius drops to one knee.
Shunsui drops to one knee.
Cooper drops to one knee.
Adet drops to one knee.
Veldrin drops to one knee.
Hideyoshi drops to one knee.
Arubus drops to one knee.
Kaiu drops to one knee.
Krognak drops to one knee.
Lyr lowers his head respectfully.
Beatrice lowers her head respectfully.

Your congregation assembled, you stand ready to begin the rites of prayer.

You recite the ancient verses, allowing the power of your words to flow through the audience.

You chant a mantra of purity, peace radiating from you to embrace your beloved children.

You bid the congregation rise, the rites of prayer complete.
You gasp with the realisation that Arubus has reached the level of Lionised.

You smile softly.
You say, "I will say a few words."

Traelor nods, listening carefully.
Beatrice tilts her head and listens intently.

You have emoted: Halos taps the cobbles of the street with the heel of his boot.

You say, "On Shallam."
You have emoted: Halos nods towards the sea, a sad smile on his face.

You say thoughtfully, "There is an extraordinary exchange between a place and the souls which live within it."

You say, "The presence of life changes the place, and that place shapes our lives. Life and place assume a character like none other, indelibly. Each is inextricably tied to the other, quietly sustaining the collective memory of a people like the tributaries of a slow-moving river."

You say, "Memories accrue quickly in this current, and it is difficult to forget."

You have emoted: His voice gentle and paternal, Halos interlocks his fingers before himself in a gesture of concordance.

You say, "Last month Cyrene held a memorial service for the fallen."

You say, "It comes to me that we have done little to remember ourselves."

Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.
A Jaruvian retriever puppy enters from the east, emitting two sharp barks as he runs.

You say, "I would like to give us the opportunity now to speak on a memory."

Zuko arrives from the northwest.
Zuko clasps his hands before himself and performs a simple, respectful bow.
A Jaruvian retriever runs to the north, tail wagging furiously behind him.

You say, "Raise your hand or step forward if you wish to speak."

You nod at Zuko.
You say, "Welcome."

Beatrice raises an eyebrow questioningly.
Beatrice coughs softly.
Wisdomseeker Zuko Shu'in-Crescent says, "Thank you."

You nod at Beatrice.

Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

Priestess of Light, Lady Beatrice Shu'in-Crescent says, "My fondest memory is sitting by the lake in the Basilica and watching the wind blow ripples across the water. I could study while smelling the flowers and listen to the Priests as they taught others. Later in life my husband and I used to sit there as well and talk about the future. That, I will always remember."
Beatrice steps back beside Veldrin.
Veldrin gently takes Beatrice's hand in his own.

Canasius raises his hand.

You nod at Canasius.

Protector Canasius Wyntersol, Protege of Lady Ferrous says with a thick Rajamalan accent, "I maybe young but we I have seen many defenses of the city of Shallam and seen us do many things to help our allies and friends, I would not say we have done little to remember ourselves instead we have all show humility and not announce to the realm all our accomplishments and kept them to ourselves to show we are strong and have no need to brag or make ourselves look bigger then we are."
Canasius takes a step back and continues to listen.

You nod at Canasius.

The earth shakes with an all-consuming crash of thunder, dwarfing mundane sounds for a brief moment in its tide of supernatural fury.

You say, "You are all very quiet."

You say, "Remnant of Shallam, close your eyes and listen then, to the memories shared between us."

You have emoted: Halos closes his eyes, beckoning you to do the same.

Wincing, Aktillum covers his eyes with his hands.
Traelor closes his eyes briefly.
Shunsui closes his eyes, and bows his head.
Ania closes her eyes.
Zuko closes his eyes, remembering the vast memories of Shallam.

You say, "Do you remember the high walls of sandstone and the white marble facade? The scent of baking on Viziers Street. The cries of the fishmonger in the marketplace?"

You say slowly, "Remember the glimmering of the golden domes at daybreak, the wavering smoke of burnt offerings before the Chrysalis Basilica. Envision paradise birds soaring amongst its ivory pinnacles. The shifting of the glow at evensong's gloaming."

A wave of heat roils off of a funeral pyre, warming your face.

You have emoted: Halos smiles, the timbre of his voice rising as he speaks.

You say, "Now, the view from the steps of the embowed archway on Hillwalk way. Here, the calling of guards from the parapets. There, the heady scents of palatial pleasure gardens giving way to the sleek lines of a crystalline spire. It is still very clear in our memories."

Krognak smiles softly.

You say, "Now open your eyes."

Within the fire, vague images solidify: Glittering with enchanted light, the domes of Shallam illuminate the Jewel in a pleasing aura of soft light.

Aktillum removes his hands from over his eyes.
Shunsui slowly opens his eyes, and raises his head.
Zuko opens his eyes slowly.
Alexius smiles softly.

You have emoted: Opening his eyes, Halos releases his clasped hands, allowing them to fall to his side. Gathering his robes, he strides a few paces northwards, looking upwards  the unearthly glow above the forested hills before he continues.

You say softly, "The waters yield little. But fire has shown us much in these past few months."

The fire shifts, and the images fade back into obscurity.

Poised at the very peak of the firmament, the fiery sun casts its radiant gaze across the land.
Dark, oppressive clouds swirl in the skies above, occluding the lights of the firmament and casting gloom across the earth.

You say, "The skies over the Pillars of Heaven bleed. Think again back to what Shallam was."

You say softly, "Now remember those domes blackening and burning."

The fire within a funeral pyre snaps and crackles, hungry to consume.

Shunsui creases his brow in a frown.

You frown and say, "The ground heaving. Flagstones shatter underfoot. Towers collapsing."
You have emoted: Halos falters, lapsing into silence momentarily.

You say, "The guard raises a ululation against the ancient foe. A great shroud of undeath descends. Fire blazes from the parapets. The torrential deluge sweeping through alleys and archways. The last days of Shallam."

You have emoted: His expression becoming serious, Halos turns eastward and raises a hand, curling it into a tight fist before himself.

You say, "I will tell you what I remember."
You say with an eastern accent, "Life."
You say in a cold voice, "And death."
You say with an eastern accent, "We fled a besieged Jewel, and the city fell into the sea. Shallam is lost. Recall the flame and ruin. Never. Forget. It."

You have emoted: Halos bites off each word, his expression changing as he realizes again the import of them.

A shadow falls over Krognak's countenance as he furrows his brow.

You say with an eastern accent, "At the memorial last month I heard many prayers. May hopes that Shallam will rise again and take up the banner and old customs."

You have emoted: Halos nods towards the waves lapping at the harbour.
A wave of heat roils off of a funeral pyre, warming your face.

You say with an eastern accent, "Jealous waves cling to our lost home just as you cling to your empty belief that Shallam will rise again."
You say stridently with an eastern accent, "I tell you now. It will not. Not in its stones, not in its bricks, and not from its people. The Destroyer did His work well."

Veldrin raises an eyebrow questioningly.

You frown at Veldrin.

You say quietly with an eastern accent, "No longer can you simply be Crystalline mage or Sentaari monk."
You have emoted: Halos jabs an accusing finger at the gathering, his dark eyes flashing in anger.
You say with an eastern accent, "Our stalwart Templars no longer patrol quiescent streets. Serpents no longer watch vigilantly from the shining walls."

Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

You say with an eastern accent, "The high places have been cast down and the altar for Empyrean worship is no more! Shallam was in the thousand year old cobbles and the gleaming Citadel just as it is within you and me and Pericles and Earda, and all who perished on that black day."

You say with an eastern accent, "The Jewel, and the lives therein, lie broken."

Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

You say with an eastern accent, "The time of wandering has begun."

You have emoted: Halos stops momentarily before turning towards the multitude again, a look of hope arriving on his olivine countenance.
You say with an eastern accent, "We were Shallamese. We will become something stronger."

An eerie, aubergine fire limns the stormy sky as tendrils of unnatural lightning dance from cloud to cloud.

You say with an eastern accent, "We must adapt if we are to survive. To fight against the evil which destroyed our home, and that which yet threatens Creation."

You say with an eastern accent, "The Lord Deucalion, the Righteous Fire Rekindled, looks ahead, not behind Him. He counsels us to do the same."

You say with an eastern accent, "Our heritage is a precious thing. We will never forget."
You angrily say with an eastern accent, "But we cannot go on as if nothing has changed."
You say with an eastern accent, "I leave you now with this thought, and I hope you all ask yourselvese: "What of our broken past am I willing to sacrifice in His fires as we step into a new future?""

You say with an eastern accent, "Think carefully on it."
You have emoted: Halos coughs violently, lowering his gaze before stepping back and looking towards the flames once more.

Halos

You tell Father Garron, "Your words have struck a chord with me, Father Garron."

A priest smiles warmly at you as he enters from the west.

Father Garron nods quietly, taking up a spot towards the back of the crowd.

Brother Krognak "Mischief" Obuun says in a deep, soft voice, "I am willing to sacrifice nothing of our past. Without our history, we are nothing. I do not cling to the past in the hopes that it will return, but I hold its memories for the lessons taught, a reminder of a beautiful time, and as a somber reminder of why it is that we persevere through these difficult times."

Priestess of Light, Lady Beatrice Shu'in-Crescent says, "If I may speak, my past made me what I am. I'm a refugee now, I have lost my home, my House lies somewhere broken beneath that water, but its ideals, its tenets, are what gave me the strength to stay true to my beliefs. I will not forget. The days of calling on the Templars to slay the thieves that plagued our youngsters, the days of running to find the orphans, they may be gone, but they shaped us. Yes we will move on, we will continue to grow, change, adapt, but we will not forget who, and what, we are, and where we came from. What will I sacrifice? I have already sacrificed much. I watched the Church fall, and still I moved on. The city fell, and still I move on. I will not forget. Our turn will come, it will come."

You nod at Beatrice.
You say with an eastern accent, "Do not forget."

Traelor nods his head in agreement.

You say with an eastern accent, "The past is what makes us who we are. Our decisions, our oaths, our beliefs, and our customs."
You say with an eastern accent, "But do not fail to move beyond it."

Hideyoshi carefully lowers the hood on a hooded white cloak decorated with lotus blossoms.

Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

You say with an eastern accent, "I will make the first sacrifice then."

You have emoted: Halos strides towards the pyre, the flames licking his form as he approaches its fiery glow.

You remove the mantle of the Caliph.

You say with an eastern accent, "The Te'Serra have departed, and a new world awaits us."

You put the mantle of the Caliph into a funeral pyre.
A column of white-hot fire explodes upward into the sky as the power bound to the Mantle of the Caliph is set free.
A column of white-hot fire explodes upward from Jaru, momentarily illuminating the skies with a brilliant glow.

Whispering quiet words of prayer, Father Garron gently swings a gleaming brass thurible by its chain.
Sweet, incense-laden smoke billows out, lingering on the air.

You have tmoted: Halos turns towards the multitude once more, determination on his face.
You have tmoted: Halos places his hand over his heart.
Melodie arrives from the northwest.

You say with an eastern accent, "My dedication to the Light is here."
You say with an eastern accent, "Not under those waves."

The wind pushes hot ashes from the pyre, the remnants of the mantle. The soot lightly touches your face.

You say with an eastern accent, "The Light shall never fail, so long as there are those to support its principles."

Lyr smiles softly at you.

Beatrice walks slowly forward towards the pyre, trembling slightly as she faces the heat. Turning to listen to Father Halos, she remains silent as she removes her Mitran circlet, nodding her head wordlessly as she falls on one knee.

Beloved Traelor Inamora-Crescent, Seraph of the Assembly says in a tired, wheezing voice, "Mother..."
A shadow falls over Traelor's countenance as he furrows his brow.

Beatrice drops to one knee.
Opening his mouth wide, Veldrin gapes in wonder at Beatrice.

Lyr looks at Beatrice, frowning, as a tear falls from his left eye.
Zuko creases his brow in a frown.

Aktillum removes a ring of Divine Justice.

The pyre rages high, eager to consume.

Priestess of Light, Lady Beatrice Shu'in-Crescent whispers, "She may have perished, but I will sacrifice this, because the Light is within me, and it was She who taught me to grow."

Beatrice puts a luminous circlet of inlaid mithril into a funeral pyre.
Fire swirls upward as the pyre consumes the circlet.

Beatrice steps back to take her place beside her husband.
Father Lyr Darion, Empyreal Archpriest says to Beatrice, "You are an inspirational woman. I am proud to stand alongside you."

You have tmoted: Halos watches the flames of the pyre, his expression reverent.

Asmodron descends from above.

As Asmodron carefully lights a red candle, its horsehair wick immediately catches fire, casting a soft glow upon the sephirotic markings on the pillar's side.

Night's Embrace, Sage Asmodron Dicondron, of Dark Woods says with an Arcadian accent, "If I may."

The flames of the pyre diminish, drawing back to their normal light.

Asmodron's eyes gleam with generosity.
Asmodron drops a red candle.

Night's Embrace, Sage Asmodron Dicondron, of Dark Woods says with an Arcadian accent, "Oh spirits of the departed."
Asmodron jerks violently south.

Cooper tells you, "Continue."

Asmodron enters from the south, a wyvern reflected in his eyes.
Asmodron coughs softly.
Night's Embrace, Sage Asmodron Dicondron, of Dark Woods says with an Arcadian accent, "Take that as a no then."

Asmodron picks up a red candle.
Asmodron inclines his head politely.
Asmodron begins to flap his wings powerfully, and rises quickly up into the firmament.

Silas arrives from the northwest.

You say with an eastern accent, "I have no other words to impart this day, wanderers, save to say that the servants of Good have always understood that there is great power in sacrifice, self-sacrifice most of all."

You say with an eastern accent, "The sermon is finished, all. Thank you all for coming."

Krognak clasps his hands before himself, faces you, and performs a simple, respectful bow.

You bow your head in solemn respect towards all those in the room.
Kaiu places her right fist in the palm of her left hand, representing Wisdom before force, and bows to you.

Zuko tells you, "Thank you, Caliph."

Jarrod Lucoster, Instrument of Decay says in a smooth, low voice, "Remember well, the rich history of Shallam. Of time spent feebly fighting against the strength of Ashtan. Remember well your place, refugees."

Cooper adopts a strange position and a look of pure menace flashes in his eyes.

Beatrice growls menacingly.

Beloved Traelor Inamora-Crescent, Seraph of the Assembly says in a tired, wheezing voice, "He's gone."

Your eyes sparkle with amusement.

Cooper Ravenwind says, "It always entertains me when someone who cannot fight their way out of a paper bag brags of strength."

Father Garron says, "Big mouthed and small minded."

Traelor nods his head at Father Garron, showing his acceptance.
Beatrice smiles softly at Father Garron.

Captain Delphinus Windancer, the Gatecrasher says, "When the barbs melt so easily into the darkness, I doubt if they've the strength to pierce."

Father Garron says, "He is from the city that holds the Mad God in veneration. His mind is poisoned."
Father Garron shrugs.
Bowing and humbly excusing himself, Father Garron leaves to the west.

You beg your guardian angel to grant escape and a safe refuge.
Your guardian takes you by the hand, and the world begins to fade slowly to black.

Silas looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Silas puts a string of crystalline prayer beads into a funeral pyre.
The flames within a funeral pyre rapidly consume a string of crystalline prayer beads.

You say with an eastern accent, "Fare well, all."
You have emoted: Halos gathers his robes and prepares to depart.

Your mind fills with light as reality fades back into view.

Torben

One of my first RP attempts. Torben is an alchemist, and was RPing him doing some experiments having been to Ageiro with those metal animals. I had planned on customising a mount, and it turned out to be a scorpion. Someone asked about it so I thought i'd share!  

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

You smile and say in a muffled voice, "Hey mentor."

Physiology workshop in the Lyceum (indoors).

Immaculate and surgical, this workshop bears a clean, clinical air. Finely wrought metal tools line 

the low stone tables, and glistening fluids bubble in glass tubes, dripping irregularly within. High,

arching windows line the northern and eastern walls, the brilliant hues of the gardens beyond 

alleviating the starkness of the chamber. Large, hollow bays fill the rest of the space, alcoves 

outfitted for the cultivation and nurturing of homunculi. Above each a lustrously gleaming glyph 

glows faintly blue, casting a chill to rival that of the mountains. Slender stairs lead to an upper 

level, a fresh breeze filtering down and stealing away the scents both organic and chemical. A runic 

You say in a muffled voice, "So, I've been working on this little thing for a while now."

You say in a muffled voice, "I reckon the Giacinto wanted to get rich. He wanted to turn stuff, 

animals, whatever he could get his hands on, into gold."

Kalila tilts her head and listens intently to you.

You say in a muffled voice, "The philosopher stone is supposed to be the pinnacle of alchemical 

learning."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "So it is. Have you dabbled a bit."

You say in a muffled voice, "Turning lesser metals into gold, through four steps. Nigredo, Albedo, 

Citrinitas and Rubedo."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

You say in a muffled voice, "So, I was thinking."

Kalila tilts her head and listens intently to you.

You say in a muffled voice, "What if I work with metals, AND I work with humours."

You say in a muffled voice, "I can alter the structure of the subject and turn it to gold."

You say in a muffled voice, "So I ah."

You say in a muffled voice, "Tested it on my scorpion."

You say in a muffled voice, "Well, I'm going to."

You say in a muffled voice, "I got this scorpion from hm, Khaibit I think? He was a faithful beast. 

But, science."

You have emoted: Torben gestures to the vat.

You say in a muffled voice, "So I have a compound i've been boiling up, and with my homunculus ...

lets see."

You say in a muffled voice, "Ready?"

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Kalila nods her head emphatically.

Kalila beams broadly.

You clap your hands together merrily.

Kalila wags her tail.

You say in a muffled voice, "It's okay!"

You say in a muffled voice, "Lets see then!"

Kalila beams broadly.

You have emoted: Torben retrieves a phial being held over a flame from the low stone table, swirling 

the contents before corking it quickly.

You have emoted: Torben climbs to the lip of the vat, uncorking the phial and pouring in an unknown 

liquid compound. The solution in the vat clouds and blackens.

You put your hands on your hips and go "Hmmm!"

You poke at a scarred scorpion urgently.

You say in a muffled voice, "Alright, he's ready."

You ponder the situation.

You have emoted: Dropping down and standing in front of it, Torben glowers at the vat containing the 

scarred scorpion before making slight gestures of his hand.

You have emoted: Focusing entirely upon the scorpion, Torben's homunculus takes place next to him 

and glowers at the scorpion, gesturing alongside its master.

You have emoted: The scorpion suspended in the vat convulses as Torben continues to temper the 

humours of the beast, first sanguine, then choleric, then phlegmatic.

Kalila's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

You have emoted: The colour of the vat changes colour to a murky white as Torben continues to focus 

energies upon the scorpion.

Kalila's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "Oh my!"

You have emoted: Torben glowers at the vat containing the scarred scorpion before making slight 

gestures of his hand.

You have emoted: The colour of the vat changes colour to a sickly yellow as Torben continues to 

focus energies upon the scorpion.

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "This is.. Ah. Aha."

You have emoted: Torben frowns as the colour of the vat turns back to black again, this time a tone 

much darker than the last.

You say in a muffled voice, "I think ... I failed."

Kalila creases her brow in a frown.

You have emoted: Climbing to the lip of the vat hastily, Torben reaches in without hesitation to 

pull out a blackened scorpion from the liquid and resting him upon the ground.

You ponder the situation.

Snapping his claws menacingly, a hulking graphite scorpion scuttles in, his legs a clatter over the 

sibilant sound of desert sand.

You say in a muffled voice, "Oh, look at that."

You say in a muffled voice, "It's ... graphite. Eesh."

You poke at a hulking graphite scorpion urgently.

Kalila ponders a hulking graphite scorpion with a contemplative expression.

You say in a muffled voice, "It ... didn't work."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "I've only heard of .."

You say in a muffled voice, "It turned ... like those animals on Ageiro."

You say in a muffled voice, "Damn."

Dark grey metal glistens across the moving figure of this hulking scorpion, its needle-thin legs 

clicking as it skitters idly across the terrain. Eight solid black eyes swivel back and forth, 

darting to and fro in assessment of its surroundings, the slightest disturbance causing it to snip 

open and closed its imposing blackened claws. The blackening marks continue from the claws, covering 

most of the beast's carapace in a random array of splotches. Dried blood covers the tail, the 

hardened tip sharp and menacing as it stands poised and ready to strike.

A hulking graphite scorpion is quite powerful.

He has 100% health remaining.

He weighs about 265 pounds.

A collar of Lupus encircles his neck.

A badge of returning has been attached to him.

He is mountable as a legendary steed.

He is loyal to Torben.

A hulking graphite scorpion is holding:

Nothing.

It will reset to you.

Kalila kneels down in front of the large hulking graphite scorpion, before timidly reaching out a 

single scaly digit, and lightly poking at it.

You have emoted: Torben jots a note down on a scroll before stuffing it in his pack hastily.

You say in a muffled voice, "Well, uh... yeah, Sorry Mentor! I failed in my experiment."

You say in a muffled voice, "No golden scorpion for me."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "This was fine work, protege. You's so young, me so young, 

that'd you'd even.. Attempt something like this, so soon.. And you didn't manage to blow either of 

us up.. Is more than impressive enough for me."

You have emoted: Torben laughs softly.

Kalila timidly presses her finger against the graphite of the bulk of the scorpion again, before 

lightly extending a claw, and brushing it over the flaky metal.

You say in a muffled voice, "I hope one day i'll become a proper alchemist and get it figured out."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

Kalila smiles softly.

You say in a muffled voice, "For now, i'll have to settle with a ... graphite scorpion I guess."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "Think it's safe to try to mount?"

You ponder the situation.

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "I'd imagine.. One might be a tiny bit.. agitated after 

such, um, an ordeal?"

You have emoted: Torben gingerly approaches the scorpion, slowly raising one leg to swivel over it.

Kalila gives the graphite scorpion a slightly worried glance.

You have emoted: Torben takes a gulp of air as he lowers himself slowly onto the scorpion.

You climb up on a hulking graphite scorpion.

A hulking graphite scorpion lowers his body down to the ground and you to climb up onto his 

chitinous back. You settle behind the first legs, with the creature's dangerous tail looming 

overhead.

You say in a muffled voice, "Woo! that wasn't too bad."

Kalila beams broadly at you.

You say in a muffled voice, "Well, he's still loyal to me!"

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "It looks like it!"

Your face brightens into a broad grin.

You laughingly say in a muffled voice, "Not quite a total loss then."

Kalila

Torben said:

One of my first RP attempts. Torben is an alchemist, and was RPing him doing some experiments having been to Ageiro with those metal animals. I had planned on customising a mount, and it turned out to be a scorpion. Someone asked about it so I thought i'd share!  

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

You smile and say in a muffled voice, "Hey mentor."

Physiology workshop in the Lyceum (indoors).

Immaculate and surgical, this workshop bears a clean, clinical air. Finely wrought metal tools line 

the low stone tables, and glistening fluids bubble in glass tubes, dripping irregularly within. High,

arching windows line the northern and eastern walls, the brilliant hues of the gardens beyond 

alleviating the starkness of the chamber. Large, hollow bays fill the rest of the space, alcoves 

outfitted for the cultivation and nurturing of homunculi. Above each a lustrously gleaming glyph 

glows faintly blue, casting a chill to rival that of the mountains. Slender stairs lead to an upper 

level, a fresh breeze filtering down and stealing away the scents both organic and chemical. A runic 

You say in a muffled voice, "So, I've been working on this little thing for a while now."

You say in a muffled voice, "I reckon the Giacinto wanted to get rich. He wanted to turn stuff, 

animals, whatever he could get his hands on, into gold."

Kalila tilts her head and listens intently to you.

You say in a muffled voice, "The philosopher stone is supposed to be the pinnacle of alchemical 

learning."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "So it is. Have you dabbled a bit."

You say in a muffled voice, "Turning lesser metals into gold, through four steps. Nigredo, Albedo, 

Citrinitas and Rubedo."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

You say in a muffled voice, "So, I was thinking."

Kalila tilts her head and listens intently to you.

You say in a muffled voice, "What if I work with metals, AND I work with humours."

You say in a muffled voice, "I can alter the structure of the subject and turn it to gold."

You say in a muffled voice, "So I ah."

You say in a muffled voice, "Tested it on my scorpion."

You say in a muffled voice, "Well, I'm going to."

You say in a muffled voice, "I got this scorpion from hm, Khaibit I think? He was a faithful beast. 

But, science."

You have emoted: Torben gestures to the vat.

You say in a muffled voice, "So I have a compound i've been boiling up, and with my homunculus ...

lets see."

You say in a muffled voice, "Ready?"

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Kalila nods her head emphatically.

Kalila beams broadly.

You clap your hands together merrily.

Kalila wags her tail.

You say in a muffled voice, "It's okay!"

You say in a muffled voice, "Lets see then!"

Kalila beams broadly.

You have emoted: Torben retrieves a phial being held over a flame from the low stone table, swirling 

the contents before corking it quickly.

You have emoted: Torben climbs to the lip of the vat, uncorking the phial and pouring in an unknown 

liquid compound. The solution in the vat clouds and blackens.

You put your hands on your hips and go "Hmmm!"

You poke at a scarred scorpion urgently.

You say in a muffled voice, "Alright, he's ready."

You ponder the situation.

You have emoted: Dropping down and standing in front of it, Torben glowers at the vat containing the 

scarred scorpion before making slight gestures of his hand.

You have emoted: Focusing entirely upon the scorpion, Torben's homunculus takes place next to him 

and glowers at the scorpion, gesturing alongside its master.

You have emoted: The scorpion suspended in the vat convulses as Torben continues to temper the 

humours of the beast, first sanguine, then choleric, then phlegmatic.

Kalila's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

You have emoted: The colour of the vat changes colour to a murky white as Torben continues to focus 

energies upon the scorpion.

Kalila's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "Oh my!"

You have emoted: Torben glowers at the vat containing the scarred scorpion before making slight 

gestures of his hand.

You have emoted: The colour of the vat changes colour to a sickly yellow as Torben continues to 

focus energies upon the scorpion.

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "This is.. Ah. Aha."

You have emoted: Torben frowns as the colour of the vat turns back to black again, this time a tone 

much darker than the last.

You say in a muffled voice, "I think ... I failed."

Kalila creases her brow in a frown.

You have emoted: Climbing to the lip of the vat hastily, Torben reaches in without hesitation to 

pull out a blackened scorpion from the liquid and resting him upon the ground.

You ponder the situation.

Snapping his claws menacingly, a hulking graphite scorpion scuttles in, his legs a clatter over the 

sibilant sound of desert sand.

You say in a muffled voice, "Oh, look at that."

You say in a muffled voice, "It's ... graphite. Eesh."

You poke at a hulking graphite scorpion urgently.

Kalila ponders a hulking graphite scorpion with a contemplative expression.

You say in a muffled voice, "It ... didn't work."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "I've only heard of .."

You say in a muffled voice, "It turned ... like those animals on Ageiro."

You say in a muffled voice, "Damn."

Dark grey metal glistens across the moving figure of this hulking scorpion, its needle-thin legs 

clicking as it skitters idly across the terrain. Eight solid black eyes swivel back and forth, 

darting to and fro in assessment of its surroundings, the slightest disturbance causing it to snip 

open and closed its imposing blackened claws. The blackening marks continue from the claws, covering 

most of the beast's carapace in a random array of splotches. Dried blood covers the tail, the 

hardened tip sharp and menacing as it stands poised and ready to strike.

A hulking graphite scorpion is quite powerful.

He has 100% health remaining.

He weighs about 265 pounds.

A collar of Lupus encircles his neck.

A badge of returning has been attached to him.

He is mountable as a legendary steed.

He is loyal to Torben.

A hulking graphite scorpion is holding:

Nothing.

It will reset to you.

Kalila kneels down in front of the large hulking graphite scorpion, before timidly reaching out a 

single scaly digit, and lightly poking at it.

You have emoted: Torben jots a note down on a scroll before stuffing it in his pack hastily.

You say in a muffled voice, "Well, uh... yeah, Sorry Mentor! I failed in my experiment."

You say in a muffled voice, "No golden scorpion for me."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "This was fine work, protege. You's so young, me so young, 

that'd you'd even.. Attempt something like this, so soon.. And you didn't manage to blow either of 

us up.. Is more than impressive enough for me."

You have emoted: Torben laughs softly.

Kalila timidly presses her finger against the graphite of the bulk of the scorpion again, before 

lightly extending a claw, and brushing it over the flaky metal.

You say in a muffled voice, "I hope one day i'll become a proper alchemist and get it figured out."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

Kalila smiles softly.

You say in a muffled voice, "For now, i'll have to settle with a ... graphite scorpion I guess."

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "Think it's safe to try to mount?"

You ponder the situation.

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "I'd imagine.. One might be a tiny bit.. agitated after 

such, um, an ordeal?"

You have emoted: Torben gingerly approaches the scorpion, slowly raising one leg to swivel over it.

Kalila gives the graphite scorpion a slightly worried glance.

You have emoted: Torben takes a gulp of air as he lowers himself slowly onto the scorpion.

You climb up on a hulking graphite scorpion.

A hulking graphite scorpion lowers his body down to the ground and you to climb up onto his 

chitinous back. You settle behind the first legs, with the creature's dangerous tail looming 

overhead.

You say in a muffled voice, "Woo! that wasn't too bad."

Kalila beams broadly at you.

You say in a muffled voice, "Well, he's still loyal to me!"

Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "It looks like it!"

Your face brightens into a broad grin.

You laughingly say in a muffled voice, "Not quite a total loss then."

I feel so bad about not interacting way more with this, I was really occupied with something in real life at the time, and it was so cool

Vika

As a disclaimer, this was my very first pubic anything. I was pretty lightheaded, even though I know we're a community and we're all here to have fun and whatnot. Thanks to @Farrah for throwing peanut's at Vika's face. Hopefully more Legate sermons to come.
 
---

You shout, "Hello, Sapience. There will be a short sermon Atop the Great Rock for those interested. Thank you."

(Market): You say, "For those interested, there is a sermon about the Catechisms of Evil atop the Great Rock."

Melodie arrives from the north.

Black scales shimmer around Faedwyn as she enters from the south.

@Emrik folds his arms behind his back and performs a deep, respectful bow.

Hataru arrives, following Titonus from the south.

Empathius, Faedwyn, Alrena, Titonus, Hataru, Melodie, Vika

Krypton enters from the south, a wyvern reflected in his eyes.

Laytron arrives from the ether.

Exxia, riding a dreadful chimera, arrives from the south.

Farrah arrives from the south.

Farrah wrinkles her nose and sniffs.

Shirszae descends from above.

Black scales shimmer around Kaiu as she enters from the south.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Please no fighting, or speaking. This isn't a debate or a ritual. I'd rather keep the bloodshed to a minimum."

Kaiu Silvertongue Obuun's breath sizzles as she says, "Is it alright if I listen in?"

You say to Kaiu in a soft-spoken voice, "All are invited, and the Dawnlady is here."

Farrah nods her head at Kaiu.

You say quietly in a soft-spoken voice, "Questions can be asked after if necessary."

You see the following people here:

@Alrena @Exxia @Melodie @Empathius @Faedwyn @Kaiu @Titonus @Farrah @Shirszae @Laytron @Hataru Vika

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Right, looks like a good crowd."

@Brae descends from above.

Vika walks forwards and motions for the crowd to settle, waving her hands in a 

downwards motion. Wetting her lips briefly and tucking stray hairs on her face behind her ear, she 

lets out a pent up breath.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Greetings, everyone. Thank you for attending this sermon. The topic 

will be on the Catechisms of Evil for a brief moment of your time, so that I may be assured that 

Sapience is not being misled in believing there are other...points of worship outside that of Evil."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "With the Master's gaze returned, He has returned our attention to 

the Catechisms of Evil. Standing alongside the Seven Truths of Evil, they stand together to enforce 

and lay out the path for true Evil to be practiced in every corner of Sapience."

Vika takes a moment to pause, looking at everyone gathered individually and dipping 

her head. Eyebrows knit together in intense concentration before continuing.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Our work as Mhaldorians is to see the Master's will be done. There 

is no greater calling than to ensure Sapience's future and continued survival is ensured by carrying 

out the Truths... Which I presume everyone here is familiar with the Seven Truth of Evil, they have 

remained static and unchanging since the Baelgrim's inception and preached by most if not all 

noteable Mhaldorians."

Vika smiles briefly, looking back up at everyone once more and spreading her hands 

out with palms turned upwards up.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "The Truths of Evil are a way of life. And with this way of life the 

Master has gifted us a guide. A guide in the name of the Catechisms of Evil. They are the rein 

masters of our chariots, our compass, telling us how to apply the Truths in our lives."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Each month, it is best to look at a Truth and a Catechism and think 

how you apply it, or should apply it in your every day life. The seventh Truth - the Truth I relate 

to the most: 'The spirit may be made stronger by enduring harships, both self-imposed and externally 

imposed'"

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Each one of the Catechisms of Evil can directly relate and work 

alongside this one Truth."

Vika folds her hands back inwards, lacing them together contemplatively while 

continuing to speak.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Just as for the Truth that I relate to the most, each Catechism of 

Evil can intertwine with each Truth. Each person in Mhaldor is different, just as every thing in 

Sapience is unique. The City of Evil provides a chance for everyone, through our Weakness we shall 

temper out the imperfections and allow Strength and our own opportunity to leave our mark upon the 

lands."

You have emoted: Vika turns to the poster beside her, gesturing to it with a hand and pushing the 

bangs away from her face, point at six of the lines at the bottom of the poster.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Iniquity, Cruelty, Hardship, Strength, Brutality, Subjugation. 

These Catechisms are what His domain shall consist of, each word is a path that resounds with power 

and shall lead us - his servants - to His will being done."

Vika turns back to face the crowd from the poster, looking far more serious and in 

control of an nervous emotions. She quietly looks at each person one after the other as if measuring 

them up.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "So I say to you, Sapience. To both the heathens gathered here 

willingly and the servants of Mhaldor who support me, that there is no place in our ranks for those 

who seek to remain oblivious or arrogantly unaware. Those who stand against the Master's will, those 

who simply refuse to try and understand, those who think if they ignore the problem it shall go away."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Your time will come. To be judged by His hand, to see if you 

understand His Truths, His Catechisms, His Will, His plan for Sapience. Excuses will not be 

tolerated, Weakness will be choked out, and failure is not an option."

Farrah's eyes sparkle with amusement.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "No one is born perfect, without Weakness, that is why the Master 

has gifted us with the Catechisms. To ensure that we never forget His will and Truths, and our duty 

as His Legion."

Vika dips her head once more, taking a small bow and backing away. Reaching a hand 

back to her chimera before pulling herself atop of it, and nodding at the crowd gathered again.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Thank you for attending, if you have further interest please 

contact a Mhaldorian or visit the City of Evil, and we will be sure to help you learn more. What is 

called Evil is simply the drive for advancement, for greatness. No matter your history, or where you 

hail from, or how little you think you can do.. you certainly have a part in the Master's will and 

His plan for Sapience."

Vika dips her head respectfully.

Melodie says to you with a flowing, cultured accent, "A well-spoken sermon, Duelist, especially 

considering it is the first the public has heard of the Catechisms."

Alrena Lichlord, Warden of the Red Isle says to you, "Well done."

Brae, Oracle of the Ancient Circle's breath sizzles as she says to you, "Well spoken, young 

Mhaldorian."


---

After this Farrah and Vika exchanged pleasantries. Scary!

Thanks everyone for showing up and keeping me well frightened and short of breath!

Frederich

weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

Either way, this looks good!

Melodie

Frederich said:

weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

Either way, this looks good!

That got dropped by the gods, dork. Keep up!

Cooper

Frederich said:

weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

Either way, this looks good!

nope, pay attention

Hataru

I was so looking forward to not having to do my job for like 5 IC years too

Either way, great first sermon @Vika! 

Kiet

Frederich said:

weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

Either way, this looks good!

wait till you find out how many tanks we're keeping

Vika

Second sermon, yay. This one was a bit longer, and had some questions at the end which had a good deal of people talking. I didn't manage to record it because of some shenanigans, but  apparently a lot of my peers were pleased it generated actual discussion.

There's always the small worry that no one will actually show up and it'll be a flop. Thanks to everyone who showed up and listened!

---

You shout, "Hello, Sapience. I will be performing a sermon Atop the Great Rock, for any interested."

--- Atop the Great Rock ---------- -8:2:5 ---

The sun beats down oppressively upon the land, banishing any moisture beneath its rays. An empty 

stone base is all that remains as a reminder for a statue that once stood here. A ladder of long, 

soft leaves comprises a wispy Weaver's Fern along the ground. Balancing on one of its corners, a 

crystalline cube slowly rotates. An elegant white letter is in danger of being soiled here.

You see exits leading north, east, south, and west.

Melodie arrives from the north.

Ardy arrives from the south.

Zackery arrives from the south.

Truax arrives from the south.

Salisa, riding a giant spectral owl, arrives from the south.

You see the following people here:

Hataru, Zackery, A ghostly figure, Salisa, Truax, Ardy, Melodie, Jinsun, Vika

Vika taps a pointer against her leg quietly, mulling over the crowd.

(Colloquium Iniquus): You say, "I will be doing a sermon of relative length Atop the Great Rock, for 

any interested."

Torial arrives from the north.

Sarikon arrives, following Talamond from the south.

Vika nods at everyone gathered, seeming satisfied.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Greetings, everyone. Thank you for showing up to my sermon. As per 

last time, or for those unfamiliar with the rules: Please do not interrupt, no fighting or killing 

or pickpocketing, and overall remain respectful. Questions can be saved for at the end."

You smile and say in a soft-spoken voice, "This is a sermon that everyone should be able to relate 

to, and hopefully be able to recognize potential flaws or weaknesses in yourself that you can 

identify and work on removing. Or quite simply work towards a higher tier or better self."

Ardy pushes a lose strand of auburn hair back over her ear.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "All of us here deal with this aspect in our life. What I am about 

to talk about I have condensed it into four small sections, each that I can touch on and explain in 

some level of detail."

Vika gives a single exhale and nods and with her free hand she slips her hair into 

a tight ponytail. Giving it a gentle flick with her hand over her shoulder to ensure the hair is 

tightly bound and secure.

Vika swings the pointer down and hitting the bottom of the page with a sharp crack. 

The pointer landing where the largest section of a triangle is.

https://pastebin.com/6yJzyMCN

Bann lifts a hand, touching it to the edge of a conical wide-brim Duhurana hat of woven straw.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "This Sermon is about competence, or rather the levels of and where 

you may find yourself."

Vika nods once towards Bann.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Without further ado.. We break into 'Unconscious Incompetence' 

which in itself is a bit of a mouthful. Quite simply it means that you don't know how bad you are, 

or how terrible you might be at something. You are oblivious and probably more harm than good when 

it comes to the task, and should likely be observing or practicing in a contained area if attempting."

Amusement touching her features, Vika taps the bottom of the pages a few more times 

for emphasis.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "The person in question will usually not recognize this though. This 

is because we're still in the 'Unconscious' part of things. They will not recognize or see the 

usefulness of certain things or doubt how something is used, despite it coming from someone more 

experienced than them or out of the first bracket of this pyramid so to speak. Much like squabbling 

children about how a game can or should be played."

Vika wets her lips and brings the tip of the pointer into her hand away from the 

piece of paper on the ground, twisting it against her palm before continuing.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "This can be seen in novice combatants especially, and the most 

common scenario that comes to mind. Those who seem to argue for the sake of arguing, or insist that 

a certain ability is good when it isn't. Or die and think they should of won, and refuse to go over 

or try to learn from their defeat. Stuck in some form of denial and deep within a pit, believing 

there to be no way out."

Vika's lips twitch upwards in faint amusement, keeping her gaze towards the crowd 

gathered. "I myself can admit to acting like this... More than I care to admit."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "People just getting into debates, new preachers, first time fishers,

 learning to cook, picking up a new language. It doesn't matter, you're going to start in this 

category at some point in your life no matter what. You may naturally excel in some areas, but in 

your whole life time you'll start here eventually when trying something new."

Vika nods once, indicating her finishing of the subject and bringing the pointer 

downwards to the page and up to the next section of the triangle.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Now we've decided to stop being oblivious, arrogant, whatever it 

was that was holding us back. We admitted that we need to improve in some way, and so just from that 

alone we move into the next phase. 'Conscious Incompetence.' A bit self explanatory, really."

You smile impishly and say in a soft-spoken voice, "You now understand how, why, and where you're 

falling short. But in short, you're still bad."

Bann turns a scythe of shadows upside-down, leaning lightly against it as he listens quietly.

Vika grins openly now and shakes her head while looking at each gathered, eye 

critically taking in everyone.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "But we amend this because we are now in the 'Conscious' part of 

things. This doesn't mean there isn't improvement, or going to be general improvement, but that you 

are now learning the proper steps, getting the aid, or skills required in order to ensure that you 

will succeed."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Tripping up, making mistakes, fumbling is necessary in this stage 

in order to personally recognize your short comings and coming to terms with them. This is so that 

you can hammer them out, and through this you'll understand and improve. This, I believe, is where 

the term comes 'Its better to lose sometimes, than to win.' A lot of people don't go over why they 

won, they simply ride the waves of pleasure and afterglow of a battle hard won."

Vika nods again, seemingly pleased and moving her pointer upwards to the next bit.

Talamond idly rubs a bit of magnesium between his thumb and forefinger, listening intently.

Ardy shifts a bit in place as she listens.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "'Conscious Competence.' This is where things are interesting, and I 

firmly to believe the vast majority of Sapience to lie in, no matter in what aspect they may choose. 

Simply due to the demands it takes to rise out of this stage."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Conscious Competence means that you are aware of certain aspects 

and you can physically, mentally, spiritually -will- yourself to take right decisions. You can do 

the right things if you focus hard because you now know how and what to do in most situations."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "...but! Showing off or doing the said skill requires a deal of 

concentration and mental fortitude."

Vika's eyebrows knit together in focus, voice rising in the confidence of her words.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "I believe this specific section distinguishes the sheep from the 

shepherds. The followers from the leaders. How our mentors are chosen, how the leaders of our Cities 

rise up."

Talamond's eyes flicker a moment.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Things are fleshed out, you're able to take action. You can bake 

that cake now, you can spar people and win, you're confident enough to preach or debate now. But 

more than half of your mind is focused on this. You can feel some sweat on your brow, the blood 

leaving your head and making you feel dizzy or want to throw up."

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "But...Things look choppy, they aren't as fluid as they could be! 

Tunnelvision is commonplace here, and also where I personally believe stagnancy to set in. You have 

escaped the pit of incompetence and breath in the air of competence and you feel you don't have to 

go any further. Why should you?"

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "The cake sits before you. Your opponent lies here dead. You 

narrowly won that debate. You did your sermon without missing a step. You are likely pleased with 

your work, and many I think don't go much past here. Satisfaction has settled in, why risk the even 

footing and pursue a more slippery slope?"

Vika brings her pointer to the very top of the pyramid, tapping it softly with a 

contemplative look at the page before turning her gaze and leveling it with the crowd.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Stage 4. The final stage for whatever specific skillset you were 

working on and likely the pinnacle of your sucess. Unconscious. Competence."

The words hang in the air for a moment, Vika taking her time before continuing.

You see the following people here:

@Jinsun A ghostly figure, @Truax @Sarikon @Bann @Torial @Zackery @Titonus @Ardy @Salisa @Melodie
@Hataru @Seortiae @Talamond, Vika

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "This is the cream of the crop. The tip of the mountain. You do 

things well by default, it's memorized to the point that bad logic isn't even part of your mental 

equations. You have left only the good aspects and purged the bad."

You say wistfully in a soft-spoken voice, "Your blade has become an extension of your arm, you can 

measure anything in the kitchen by eye alone and have a broad palette, you can speak circles around 

your opponent in the debate, and you stand proudly and express yourself easily before the masses of 

Sapience with every eye on you. Jitters are no longer a foe to overcome, you embrace the feeling in 

your stomach because it means you're still uncertain, still know you can achieve more or do better."

Vika's eyes narrow as if troubled or concerned for a moment, but the moment passes 

as quickly as it came and her lips remain in a flat and expressionless line.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "You have had so much practice, executed your plan so many times in 

so many different scenarios that things feel second nature. You can likely perform this task while 

multitasking, chatting away mid fight, talking with friends while baking."

Talamond lowers his head in a polite bow.

Sarikon leaves, following Talamond to the north.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "Your fluency shines and it's usually because of people like you. 

You the top percentage of people that mentor those who you personally believe has the will and the 

drive that you can push them from Stage 2, into Stage 3, and possibly even up into Stage 4 alongside 

you."

Vika holds up her left hand with the palm facing towards her, an escarbuncle seared 

into the flesh and facing the crowd, easily within sight to all gathered.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, ""What is called Evil is simply the drive for advancement, for 

greatness. We seek, through discipline and pain, to spur the advancement of nothing less than 

sentient life.""

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "It is in my firm belief that this is how the First Truth is to be 

applied. That Evil demands us to constantly strive to be better, and with what the Master has 

blessed us with we shall improve ourselves and strive to improve everything around us in the process."

Vika stands at attention, giving a crisp salute before bowing low to the crowd gathered.

You say in a soft-spoken voice, "I thank you all for attending, I hope that you have a better 

understanding about basic aspects of our life we take for granted and seeing it broken down. 

Learning is a process, improving is a process, and as a Mhaldorian and as part of His Legion, it 

would be a disservice to take such for granted. That is why the Seven Truths are in place, with the 

Catechisms to guide us."

Titonus nods.

"Thank you, and you are all dismissed if you wish to go." Vika says with a small 

smile. Leaning down to pick up and roll the letter, stuffing it away in her pack and leaving the 

ground barren once more.

Bann says to you in a gruff, growling voice, "Enlightening. Thank you for the sermon."

Seortiae tells you, "Well done, Ward."

Hataru says to you in Mhaldorian with an icy, old Hashani accent, "Well done Ward."

Caynix

Don't know if anyone else logged this awesome event in Mhaldor today, but here's my version. Way to go @Khurgen @Nylian!

---

(Colloquium Iniquus): Hataru says, "Mhaldor. Khurgen will be performing something as a task for the Lady Mercantile at Stygian, you are expected to attend."

You bow respectfully to Seortiae.

Seortiae curtseys respectfully before you.

You say in Mhaldorian, "What's going on at Stygian?"

Seortiae says to you in Mhaldorian with a soft accent, "Greetings, my Protege."

You ponder the situation.

Seortiae says in Mhaldorian with a soft accent, "Someone will be performing a task. You will attend."

You nod your head at Seortiae.

Seortiae says in Mhaldorian with a soft accent, "Come, let's see what this is about."

You follow Seortiae up to Stygian Crossroads.

Dread Terminator Exxia Lichlord, One of Many is here. He wields a Scimitar of Eagles in each hand. Lady Hataru Lichlord is here. Her face is partially concealed beneath the raised hood of a knight's black cloak with golden accents bearing the arms of Maldaathi. She wields a blackened steel and bone longbow in both hands. Aspirant Ryden is here. Khurgen is riding on a massive dire wolf. He wields a Shield of Absorption in his left hand. Nylian is here. Insid'ari Seortiae Nithilar is here. She wields an elemental staff in her left hand and a Shield of Absorption bearing the House arms of the Insidium in her right. The Red Dragon Taryius' imposing form looms. Thrall Narrobi is here. She wields Agith'maal's ire in her left hand and a Shield of Absorption in her right. Lii, Augur of Intrigue is here. Lord Cooper Ikari is riding on an alabaster pegasus. He wields a Lasallian lyre in his left hand and a Soulpiercer in his right. You may ENTER SUBDIVISION from here.

Seortiae performs a graceful curtsey towards all those in the room.

You give the world a smart salute.

Hataru nods her head at Khurgen.

Khurgen says, "My thanks to those of you gathered this day to witness my first public demonstration in service to the Malevolent Lord and His city."

Khurgen says, "As some of you may be aware, I am seeking to return myself to the bonds of slavery from which I fled at a very young age."

Khurgen says, "Upon my early departure, I followed a few leads I had collected and took up residence in the north to seek out my birth parents, which I eventually found."

Khurgen says, "Though I found some comfort in finding my family, I soon came to realize my error in departing this Holy city."

Khurgen says derisively, "My new home was riddled with apathy, procrastination, insanity, and a torpid wait for an end to everything which they so adamantly claim to be coming."

Khurgen says, "These poisonous conditions were beginning to infect me, and I was lucky enough to realize it myself. My father and I spoke at great length, and our family soon after left that Seat of Chaos to begin our lives anew in the service of Lord Sartan."

Extending an hand forward, Khurgen gestures toward the back of the crowd.

Khurgen says, "My father, Nylian, is actually here with us!"

Khurgen motions for Nylian to come forward.

Nylian peers about himself unscrupulously.

Nylian makes his way through the crowd to stand beside his son.

Seortiae ponders Nylian with a contemplative expression.

Khurgen gives Nylian a slight smile before returning his attention to those gathered.

Khurgen says, "I have spent much of the last year learning of the Seven Truths of Evil and the Catechisms in detail. Today, I shall mainly speak of what I have learned of the Second Truth of Evil."

Khurgen says, "Cruelty - the application of pain - is the method by which one weeds out the weak and feeble-minded from the population."

Khurgen says, "Unbeknownst to him, my father will be the focal point of this demonstration."

Nylian blinks.

Khurgen gives a single nod to a pair of flail-wielding knights who immediately make their way toward Nylian.

Casting Khurgen a confused look, Nylian vainly attempts to struggle as the knights bind his arms securely behind his back before forcing him to his knees.

Khurgen slowly walks toward the crowd as he begins to speak.

Khurgen says, "Cruelty is a tool used to drive the advancement of Evil. It imposes pain and hardship to root out both those too weak or willing to learn from it, and those who may be made stronger by it."

Khurgen says, "Either way, Evil progresses. The weak will fall to their places in service to the strong, and the strong shall become stronger."

Khurgen clasps his hands behind his back as he begins to casually pace before the gathering, making brief eye contact with you as he passes by.

Khurgen says, "Moral values such as acceptance, fairness, kindness, and compassion are overly common among the masses."

Khurgen says, "These poisonous flaws spread like wildfire to those who surround themselves with such foolish failings."

Khurgen says, "Through Cruelty, even the most entrenched weaknesses may be exposed and eliminated."

Khurgen spins about abruptly to face Nylian.

Khurgen says, "Which brings us to our demonstration."

Nylian blinks incredulously at Khurgen, and mumbles "...my son, why?" under his breath.

Khurgen says, "I have identified within my father what I believe to be his greatest weakness."

Khurgen says to Nylian, "I have witnessed you hold your sword in check to allow your opponent to regain their footing."

Khurgen points an imperious finger at Nylian.

Khurgen says to Nylian, "I have witnessed you give aid to those that would be best be served with none."

Khurgen points an imperious finger at Nylian.

Khurgen says to Nylian, "I have witnessed you putting aside your own priorities at the cost of your own advancement."

Khurgen points an imperious finger at Nylian.

Nylian stares about himself frenziedly, wild-eyed.

Drops of blood begin to fall from Nylian's nose.

Khurgen says, "Mercy. It is a weakness that can bring one death, for you leave yourself vulnerable to those who would take advantage of your flaw."

Khurgen says, "It is a weakness that can bring others death, for in your merciful gestures, you leave others vulnerable."

Khurgen points an imperious finger at Nylian.

Crimson beads begin to form upon Nylian's forehead.

Khurgen says, "It is a weakness that can infect others, for mercy shows kindness, and kindness begets kindness."

Khurgen points an imperious finger at Nylian.

Khurgen lowers himself to face the kneeling form of Nylian, meeting the look of betrayal upon his face without emotion.

Nylian begins to jerk and shake violently, foaming at the mouth.

Khurgen says coldly, "It is a weakness that must be purged."

Nylian gives a horrified gasp.

Khurgen's eyes flutter and close as he begins to rock back and forth, chanting ominously under his breath.

With an outward gesture, Khurgen opens his eyes and glares fiercely at Nylian. Face contorting to a grimace, he raises an imperious finger and points it directly at his forehead, uttering one final word: "Tzantza."

Nylian winces and stumbles as the skin on his head shrinks and hardens like aged leather. His eyes roll back and strangled gurgles escape his rapidly diminishing mouth as he struggles to breathe. His head withers like a drying fruit and with a final dull "crack," his skull splinters, the shards embedding themselves in his brain.

Nylian has been slain by Khurgen.

A goldenseal root falls from Nylian's corpse.

A group of 4 bloodroot leaves falls from Nylian's corpse.

A group of 2 pieces of kelp falls from Nylian's corpse.

A group of 2 ginseng roots falls from Nylian's corpse.

Khurgen wraps his fingers around the neck of Nylian's shrunken head, pulling up beneath the jawline and twisting it around backwards. The withered flesh stretches and twists, finally tearing free of the shoulders with a grotesque SNAP!

Khurgen says reverently, "Thus 'Through Cruelty is His will imparted.'"

You blink.

Khurgen turns and lowers his head respectfully before those gathered, indicating and end to the demonstration.

Seortiae tells you in Mhaldorian, "Your thoughts, Protege?"

You tell Seortiae in Mhaldorian, "Errrrr...give me a moment to process what I just witnessed, Exemplar."

With a sudden flutter of agitation, a swirling column of daemonites churns momentarily and flows quietly away.

You tell Seortiae in Mhaldorian, "That bloke just slew his own father."

Seortiae tells you in Mhaldorian, "Indeed."

Seortiae tells you in Mhaldorian, "Did you not listen to his words?"

Kiet picks up a headless corpse.

Seortiae tells you in Mhaldorian, "The convert is trying to prove himself worthy to rejoin Mhaldor."

You tell Seortiae in Mhaldorian, "I think he just did, Exemplar. He's certainly got my vote."

Taryius smirks.

Hataru says to Khurgen with an icy, old Hashani accent, "I suggest you send the Lady Mercantile a transcript of the events, they have been enlightening."

Dread Executioner Taryius's breath scorches the air as he says to Khurgen, "A very intriguing display of cruelty, well done."

Khurgen nods his head at Hataru.

Khurgen says to Hataru, "Certainly, m'Lady."

Khurgen says to Taryius, "My thanks, Dread Executioner."

Krypton

An order to commit familicide?

u wud Melodie.

Melodie

All of my tasks are completely open-ended on how you decide to do it, and whom to, purposefully done since I want to see what you bring to the table. I just tend to get the people who are crazy like me.

It's a gift.

I'm only sad I wasn't about to attend! Crazy first week of school.

Solnir

Tzantza still in the top 5 sexiest kills.

Khurgen

Melodie said:

All of my tasks are completely open-ended on how you decide to do it, and whom to, purposefully done since I want to see what you bring to the table. I just tend to get the people who are crazy like me.

It's a gift.

I'm only sad I wasn't about to attend! Crazy first week of school.

I kept an eye out for you and tried to do it when you were around, but I was eager and took the opportunity last night.

So, I've made my introduction and look forward to interacting with everyone! I'm already excited by all of the RP potential.

Nylian

Man you guys are rough.

https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/ZzosUdSe

I'm stoked!!!

Torinn

I wish Ada's pastebin would rescale for phones.  How else am I going to read stuff while at work without getting caught?

Reyson

I don't know how anyone can pick a death that isn't the daemon pit. 

10/10 would get executed again.

Jinsun

Badass new statues means a crazy fucking Jinsun doing crazy sacrifices:

https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/xf8N6D3r

@Kriemhilde
@Truax
@Bann
@Blithe
@Jozlyn
@Lichiska
@Rackham