Wedding Preparations

AloliAloli Between Books
edited February 2020 in Roleplay Logs
Hello everyone!

In order to share Aloli and Benedicto's wedding, we've had to do three logs. The first two are of them preparing for it, getting dressed and heading over to Chakrasul's church. The third is of the actual wedding, which I'm almost done cleaning up (life just keeps me so busy :( ).

Benedicto had a wonderful idea to share the HTML files of the wedding since we recorded it that way, you can see everything in color! Please note that the THINK commands are colored differently than normal emotes, they're purple.

I hope you enjoy and I look forward to discussing RP techniques with you guys again!

Benedicto's Preparations

Aloli's Preparations

Edit: Fixed the links! I had to move them from Google drive.
Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. - Khalil Gibran
MoxieBruinBenedictoAlystrineHawaRebra

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  • AloliAloli Between Books
    edited February 2020
    This is just for those who don't want to deal with links.

    Benedicto's Preparations
    (Tells): The heat of the forge sears your thoughts as Ethne tells you, "Are you occupied, Pentarch?"

    (Tells): You tell Ethne, "No. Just...meditating on what is to come."

    (Tells): The heat of the forge sears your thoughts as Ethne tells you, "May I step in, then?"

    (Tells): You tell Ethne, "Of course, my Lady."

    Sparks of ember join the crash of a hammer on an anvil, igniting into a towering swirl of flame. The figure of Ethne, the Rekindled, emerges from the center of the fire.

    Benedicto inclines his head politely. "Well met Lady Ethne."

    Aisar kneels before Ethne, swearing her allegiance to Ethne.

    Aisar says, "Well met, Lady Ethne."

    Aisar stands up and stretches her arms out wide.

    Ethne steps in with something in Her large hand, flashing a faint smile towards you, "Pentarch." And then, a quick glance to Aisar, "Child."

    Aisar gives a vial of a humble knight to you.

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "That is one of my first two approved recipes."

    (Tells): You tell Aisar, "Ah I see. I will peruse it when I have a moment."

    Archives within the Pentarch's office.
    A display case of Morgun darkwood stands here, ensconced between the western bookshelves. Dividing the eastern bookshelves, a display case of vibrant acacia wood is set here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Waves of heat distort the image of Ethne, the Rekindled. Aisar is here. She wields a tower shield in her right hand. A small sign indicates that LIBRARY CATALOG will list the materials in this library.
    You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "I can make it for you any time you like."

    Ethne says, "I wanted to provide you a gift of My own making. It's nothing fancy and is entirely ornamental, but I thought it might be useful for you to wear in this occasion."

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "Now you can have sweet tea any time you want, Sir."

    Benedicto raises his brows in surprise, silence falling between them for a moment. He startles, suddenly remembering his manners. "Ah! You are generous my Lady. Thank You."

    Aisar smiles at Ethne from her alert position.

    Ethne steps forward and reaches out for your hand, pulling it into Her own larger one. She slowly pulls your fingers apart until the palm is free, speaking, "I will not be offended if you do not care for them, since they are a little flashy. I've never made this sort of thing again, so I might have gone a tad far." Then, shoulder cords of the Pentarch is set in your palm and She wraps your fingers about it before retrieving Her hand.

    As he enters from the south, a wingless Templar Knight scans his surrounds through a set of crystalline blue eyes.

    Healing scars along a Templar Knight's back are revealed as he walks south.

    Ethne says, "You can place them across your upper back and to your shoulders to decorate your suit, if you wish."

    shoulder cords of the Pentarch
    Lumenite has been melted and molded carefully into thin strips that are entwined with one another to form multiple chains. They are designed to have one thicker strip of the gathered chains that can be pulled across the upper back of the wearer. Tethered to either end, intended to be draped down from the shoulders, are three tiered lines of the thinner chains. The lumenite has been polished well enough that the copper-like undertones to the quicksilver hues are visible at all times and a faint mirroring is caused upon the metal. Attached to the lowest chain on either shoulder are small trinkets made carved from emberite. On the chain bottom intended to end on the left shoulder, the emberite trinkets are that of a trident, shotel, and a sword. On the bottom chain for the right shoulder, the emberite trinkets are that of an anchor, a flame, and a sparrow. All of these trinkets give off a faint glow from their insides, as if many small embers are contained within them. It can only be worn in the following location: shoulders.
    It weighs 5 ounce(s).
    It will benefit from a primary and secondary dye.
    It bears the distinctive mark of Ethne, the Rekindled.

    The soft, subtle smell of decay wafts past your nose and you feel rails of goosebumps lift across your skin.

    You look over your shoulder, expecting to see Her and before you can look ahead, you feel a weight settle in your hands. As jade essence roils over itself, it eventually coalesces into a jade box.

    Aisar starts to wield a shining steel longsword in her left hand.

    "Squire, attend me." Benedicto states towards Aisar, offering shoulder cords of the Pentarch towards her. No sooner does he stretch out his hand then a simple jade-hued box appears in his other. Recognising the pattern immediately he stiffens. "It appears You are not the only one with a wedding gift for me, my Lady." He informs Her tersely.

    "Your attire." It's a simple passing of a thought. Familiar, yet distant.

    (Tells): Aloli tells you, "Bene?"

    "My attire." Benedicto echoes hollowly, clearly repeating what he has been informed.

    (Tells): You tell Aloli, "You received one also?"

    (Tells): Aloli tells you, "Received what?"

    (Tells): You tell Aloli, "Attire for the wedding?"

    a simple jade-hued box
    Simple in design, this box is big enough to hold a rather large garment or a whole bunch of small things. Made from shards of jade, the only
    other decoration is the black ribbon that secures the lid to the box when it is tied together.
    It has 124 weeks of usefulness left.
    It weighs about 15 pound(s).
    It is closed and you can not see inside of it.

    Aisar walks to you before getting the shoulder cords of the Pentarch. She places it across your upper back and to your shoulders along your a layered, gold-embellished uniform.

    (Tells): Aloli tells you, "Oh yes, I got a box that had a veil and a wedding dress in it. They're very disturbing."

    "Well, at least Mine will be something to clash against Hers, I imagine." Ethne says with as best a supportive smirk She can provide. She steps back out of the way after, allowing room for Aisar.

    Aisar carefully straightens the shoulder cords of the Pentarch before casting a critical look over them. She tugs at one then straightens another before stepping back satisfied.

    Whilst Aisar is securing the shoulder cords of the Pentarch, Benedicto places the box upon his desk. His hesitation is apparent as he reluctantly tugs on the black ribbon that secures a simple jade-hued box.

    Ethne walks around to the other side of you and looks down at the small box, watching the opening carefully with a frown starting to settle into Her lips.

    You open a simple jade-hued box.
    Simple in design, this box is big enough to hold a rather large garment or a whole bunch of small things. Made from shards of jade, the only other decoration is the black ribbon that secures the lid to the box when it is tied together.
    It has 124 weeks of usefulness left.
    It weighs about 15 pound(s).
    A simple jade-hued box is holding:
    "uniform196499" a midnight-black uniform with silver trim
    "shoes216612" midnight-hued dress shoes
    It is holding 2 objects.

    You turn a simple jade-hued box upside down and give it a shake, emptying its contents into your hands.
    A midnight-black uniform with silver trim falls into your hands. Midnight-hued dress shoes falls into your hands.

    Aisar's gaze goes to the box while her foot moves forward slightly. "Sir?"

    Benedicto upends a simple jade-hued box onto the desk, emptying a midnight-black uniform with silver trim and midnight-hued dress shoes onto the surface. "It looks like we will be reattaching those cords." He declares with very little excitement.

    a midnight-black uniform with silver trim
    This multi-piece uniform has been made from a mixture of black and silver fabrics, and crafted with what is surely a supernatural hand. The tunic, jacket and trousers are of the deepest midnight hue, with a quality that appears to absorb the very light around it - as if the wearer is swathed in pure, unbridled shadow. The high-necked tunic cinches up to just below the chin, with a straight line of silver buttons showing all the way to the top. The jacket is of a formal cut, specifically designed and tailored for a single wearer, with slightly padded shoulders that a noticeable swell to the wearer's physique. Slim trousers serve to accentuate the definition of the wearer's legs, while still allowing a modest amount of movement should exertion be required. A silver tie completes the piece, the thin, argent fabric reaching down to just below the naval.
    It can only be worn in the following location: fullbody.
    You are capable of wearing this armour in your current class.
    It has 120 weeks of usefulness left.
    It weighs about 80 pound(s).

    This armour can be used by your class.
    Divert bonus: +5% Dodge malus: -5%
    A midnight-black uniform with silver trim has no venoms or magical effects on it.

    "Silver and black.." Ethne mumbles under Her breath, letting out a labored exhale, "Yes, I suppose it will be time to have them reattached." Turning to look at you, She adds, "I'll leave you to it. The cords will definitely help stand out as what you are, the Pentarch, and not Their toy." Reaching out, She grasps you by the shoulder, "Be strong, Pentarch. I will see you again soon." And then, She slips out.

    The towering form of the Rekindled dissolves into swirling trails of flame, each gradually dimming and cooling to embers.

    Aisar silently nods before detaching the shoulder cords of the Pentarch from your uniform. She steps back then says, "Sir. The uniform is for your wedding day. The cords are a memory you can cherish forever."

    Benedicto stares at the clothing on his desk with a faint look of disgust. Finally, he draws a deep breath, quickly exhaling to steady himself, almost as if readying himself for battle. "As you say Squire Celaeno. Please, go and make your own preparations for the wedding. I would like some privacy whilst I change."

    Aisar gives the world a smart salute.

    Aisar says, "I will return when you need me to reattach the cords."

    Archives within the Pentarch's office.
    A display case of Morgun darkwood stands here, ensconced between the western bookshelves. Dividing the eastern bookshelves, a display case of vibrant acacia wood is set here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Aisar is here. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a tower shield in her right. A small sign indicates that LIBRARY CATALOG will list the materials in this library. You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    Aisar ponders the situation.

    Aisar says, "Sir, the tea will help soothe you."

    Aisar gives the world a smart salute.

    Aisar leaves to the south.

    In search of food, an awkwardly armoured chicken struts in.

    Once the Squire has left, Benedicto gently closes the door behind her. He locks it and leans forward, pressing his head into the grain. "Watch over me Maelo. Give me Your strength Father." He whispers desperately in prayer. He rights himself and turns back towards the desk. "Lady Chakrasul!" He names Her, a note of summoning in the words. "Just what is provided here? No armor or additional accoutrement?"

    A piercing scream heralds the arrival of a cacophony of duskywing butterflies that quickly coalesce into the form of Chakrasul.

    Boredly, Chakrasul says, "Don't you know I have a wedding to finish setting up, Pentarch?"

    (Tells): Aloli tells you, "Love, Corruption said She will provide us wedding rings."

    Benedicto strives to remain stoic. "I appreciate that but I would not want to disappoint." The words are desperately level. "Just the uniform You have provided. No armor, or any other of my affects?" He queries of Chakrasul.

    A dove comes flying into the room, deposits a letter bearing the Warlord's crest into your hands, warbles cheerfully, and flies away.

    Chakrasul's fingers absently play around with a small box and She flicks it between palms. "You disappoint Me, dearest. You expect bloodshed and that is... Far too predictable." She smiles finally and Her fangs are revealed. "You know Me, Pentarch. Well enough to understand I prefer surprising My... Guests."

    "And you know me." Benedicto comments in response, his attention momentarily drawn to the recognizable crest upon the letter. He quickly raises his pearlescent gaze back to Chakrasul. "Ironically, You are one of those that knows me most intimately." There is a note of bitter humor in his voice. "I like to take precautions. You may not wish me violence necessarily but many of Your chosen do."

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "Sir, would you mind if I brought Sir Aeryx as my guest?"

    You read what is written on a letter bearing the Warlord's crest:
    Additional accoutrement, as requested.
    You see inside:
    Silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "I feel better with a shieldbrother beside me."

    (Tells): You tell Aisar, "If that is your wish."

    The box getting tossed between Her hands finally pauses in the left while the right waves in dismissal. Chakrasul rolls onto the balls of Her feet and Her neck cranes to look down at the letter. "You have extra things, as requested?" She remarks sweetly and that smile grows.

    Turning to leave, Chakrasul says, "No weapons. No armor. My children have been told to be on their best behaviour unless they desire an organ to be lost."

    Pausing, Chakrasul laughingly says, "Though, I suppose some of them do love giving them to Me."

    Shattering into thousands of duskywing butterflies, Chakrasul's body unravels and as the last insect leaves, no trace of the Goddess remains.

    Benedicto gives a letter bearing the Warlord's crest an idle shake, two small objects shift and clinking within. "I assume so. Your Brother has sent something to add." Quickly he adds, "What of Your Sisters gift?!"

    Benedicto glances towards the shoulder cords of the Pentarch.

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "Oh, My beloved Sister of Fire. You may wear them."

    Aisar arrives from the south.

    Quickly snapping to a rigid stance, Aisar brings her weapon to a vertical position infront of her chest in an act of respect towards Valingar.

    Benedicto tears the seal from a letter bearing the Warlord's crest, tipping the contents into his palm. A faint look of indignation crosses his face before he turns to Aisar. "The Warlords contribution." He informs her, "Come. I will require assistance wearing these."

    Aisar steps toward you before taking the pair of silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar. She checks the cuffs of the uniform before attachingthe cufflinks.

    silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar
    Polished to a bright sheen, these silver cufflinks were crafted to adorn the end of each sleeve of a suit. Perfectly circular, with slip-pin somehow moulded onto the back of them, each cufflink depicts the same, intricately crafted image; a snarling boar, head lowered to charge.
    It can only be worn in the following location: wrists.
    It has 150 weeks of usefulness left.
    It is strangely weightless.

    Archives within the Pentarch's office.
    A display case of Morgun darkwood stands here, ensconced between the western bookshelves. Dividing the eastern bookshelves, a display case of vibrant acacia wood is set here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Aisar is here. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a tower shield in her right. A small sign indicates that LIBRARY CATALOG will list the materials in this library.
    You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    Aisar says, "I suppose I should give my wedding gift before it as well."

    Aisar says, "Sir. I thought about who you are, who the Abbess is, and I thought about your duties." She whistles then a homing pigeon lands on her outstretched hand. "You are always busy and I hope, in some way, this homing pigeon will help you focus on what really matters."

    Aisar gives a homing pigeon to you.

    Benedicto bemusedly accepts a homing pigeon. "Uh. Thank you Squire."

    Aisar says to you, "I almost got you a colourful ball."

    Aisar says to you, "Now you can work from your office without having to go to the post office."

    You are now wearing a glass unity charm.

    a homing pigeon
    This grey pigeon is smaller than some similar breeds, but is nimble on its feet. Its legs and claws are black, matching the feathers tipped at the bottom edge of its wings. There are also flecks of white alongside the black.
    It is an Ankyrean artifact, enchanted with the following powers:
    homing_pigeon
    It weighs about 1 pound(s) and 2 ounce(s).
    It bears the distinctive mark of Benedicto Silverain.

    Aisar says, "The Abbess will have one as well."

    "Wait, you actually bought me a pigeon? You had no need to do this!" Benedicto exclaims, looking flustered by the gift.

    You are now wearing silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar.

    Aisar says to you, "Sir. I am proud to be your Squire."

    Aisar says to you, "It means a lot to help you out any way I can. It is not just an honour. It is a joy."

    You adjust silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar slightly until it seems more suitable.

    Aisar turns her head away slightly as she deftly wipes a tear from her eyes before resuming her serene disposition.

    Frustrated swearing can be heard from the forge, followed by the clattering of metal being tossed aside.

    (Tells): Valingar tells you, "How are you feeling, comrade?"

    (Tells): You tell Valingar, "Like a pig dressed for slaughter."

    (Tells): You tell Valingar, "Come and see for yourself."

    Valingar arrives from the south.

    Quickly snapping to a rigid stance, Aisar brings her weapon to a vertical position infront of her chest in an act of respect towards Valingar.

    Valingar says to you, "Not too late to take up drinking."

    Benedicto smiles softly, resting a large webbed hand upon Aisar's shoulder. "It is very much appreciated, Squire. Now, go be with your mother and Sir Verite. Your father will see to me from here on out."

    Aisar gives the world a smart salute.

    Aisar leaves to the south.

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "Sir Aeryx has chosen not to come. Still, Mom is great!"

    Thoughtfully, after a brief pause, Valingar says, "I feel we are more sober than last time."

    You put a layered, gold-embellished uniform into a durable, cobalt and gold canvas backpack.

    Benedicto turns towards Valingar, lifting his arms up to showcase a midnight-black uniform with silver trim. "Garbed by Corruption Herself, with additional touches by the Warlord." He groans. "I dare not risk it, my friend. Not only would we suffer, our loved ones would suffer also. You do not spoil the fun of the Dark Mother." He replies seriously.

    The vague image of an entwined ring carved with thorns and vines appears in the air, before a shadowy figure appears in a flash of magic.

    (Tells): Aloli tells you, "Good luck, my love."

    He is an athletic Yeleni duamvi of Kelki heritage and is clearly a creature born of the Maelstrom. His face is smooth and hairless with water-like veins barely visible beneath pale, blue skin. His broad features are characterized by sharp cheekbones, a square chin and piercing pearl-white eyes. His left eye is split by a neat scar that runs from his brow to the hollow of his cheek. Thick tentacles of an off-white color form his 'hair' and are left free to dangle and rest upon his broad shoulders, the coils undulating lazily. His body is covered in midnight-blue scales that shift to an electric blue under direct light, silvery lines cut through the plating, tracing out a massive network of scars across his entire body. Most prominent of these is a large sunburst scar that dominates the center of his chest, stretching from shoulder to shoulder, throat to sternum. Translucent skin can be glimpsed between his fingers should he have cause to splay his hands. His body is well-muscled and toned, his movements smooth and fluid. A silver cufflink can be seen pinned to each wrist, depicting a snarling, charging boar. The smell of a sea breeze clings to him revealing the boon of the Maelstrom. Sparks of ember fall in his wake, revealing the boon of Ethne.

    (affixed to his armpiece) : a Slyphian astrolabe
    (worn about his left wrist) : a glass unity charm
    (strapped across his back) : a peace-tied, shackled sheath
    (pinned proudly upon his lapel) : a gold and coral brooch of the Silverain
    (secured upon his right forearm) : an engraved metallic arm piece
    (worn proudly atop his uniform) : a trident pierced heart pendant
    (fastened to the shoulders of his uniform) : shoulder cords of the Pentarch
    (form fitting) : a midnight-black uniform with silver trim
    (polished to a high shine) : midnight-hued dress shoes
    (securing the cuffs of his uniform) : silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar

    Valingar says to Aishia, "Give us a moment, yes?"

    (Tells): You tell Aloli, "And you my love."

    Archives within the Pentarch's office.
    A display case of Morgun darkwood stands here, ensconced between the western bookshelves. Dividing the eastern bookshelves, a display case of vibrant acacia wood is set here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Valingar is here. Aishia is here, concealed within the shadows. A small sign indicates that LIBRARY CATALOG will list the materials in this library.
    You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    Aishia says, "Duanathar."
    A shadowy figure is swiftly carried into the skies and out of sight by a pair of wings of the eagle.

    You close the door to the south.

    silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar
    Polished to a bright sheen, these silver cufflinks were crafted to adorn the end of each sleeve of a suit. Perfectly circular, with slip-pin somehow moulded onto the back of them, each cufflink depicts the same, intricately crafted image; a snarling boar, head lowered to charge.
    It can only be worn in the following location: wrist.
    It has 150 weeks of usefulness left.
    It is strangely weightless.

    a midnight-black uniform with silver trim
    This multi-piece uniform has been made from a mixture of black and silver fabrics, and crafted with what is surely a supernatural hand. The tunic, jacket and trousers are of the deepest midnight hue, with a quality that appears to absorb the very light around it - as if the wearer is swathed in pure, unbridled shadow. The high-necked tunic cinches up to just below the chin, with a straight line of silver buttons showing all the way to the top. The jacket is of a formal cut, specifically designed and tailored for a single wearer, with slightly padded shoulders that a noticeable swell to the wearer's physique. Slim trousers serve to accentuate the definition of the wearer's legs, while still allowing a modest amount of movement should exertion be required. A silver tie completes the piece, the thin, argent fabric reaching down to just below the naval.
    It can only be worn in the following location: fullbody.
    You are capable of wearing this armour in your current class.
    It has 120 weeks of usefulness left.
    It weighs about 80 pound(s).

    shoulder cords of the Pentarch
    Lumenite has been melted and molded carefully into thin strips that are entwined with one another to form multiple chains. They are designed to have one thicker strip of the gathered chains that can be pulled across the upper back of the wearer. Tethered to either end, intended to be draped down from the shoulders, are three tiered lines of the thinner chains. The lumenite has been polished well enough that the copper-like undertones to the quicksilver hues are visible at all times and a faint mirroring is caused upon the metal. Attached to the lowest chain on either shoulder are small trinkets made carved from emberite. On the chain bottom intended to end on the left shoulder, the emberite trinkets are that of a trident, shotel, and a sword. On the bottom chain for the right shoulder, the emberite trinkets are that of an anchor, a flame, and a sparrow. All of these trinkets give off a faint glow from their insides, as if many small embers are contained within them.
    It can only be worn in the following location: shoulders.
    It weighs 5 ounce(s).
    It will benefit from a primary and secondary dye.
    It bears the distinctive mark of Ethne, the Rekindled.

    "Nonsense," Valingar says with a roll of his heavy shoulders. "Spoiling Her fun sounds just the thing we want to do. We are not here to be marionettes on strings." He scratches his messy hair absently, in a vain attempt to make it look more presentable, then grins. "Listen, old tentaclehead, if I could shove a suit on, you can take a risk or two."

    Benedicto issues a faint snort of laughter. "We will see what happens. Regardless, we will wait until the formalities are complete. I *do* want to marry Aloli."

    "Fine fine, if you do not want to drink, drink we shall not. Perhaps good to have new beginnings this time," Valingar says after a while. He is silent a moment, furrowing his eyebrows together, before adding, "I feel a bit on the edge. Something is fishy about this entire thing. Apart from the obvious."

    Valingar says, "But we shall have a grand combat force there, if She or Hers do turn out to have something planned."

    (Enorian): Ethne says, "Beacon."

    (Enorian): Isia says, "My Lady."

    (Enorian): Ethne says, "If anyone is invited, or a plus one for the wedding, come to the Grand Flame."

    (Enorian): Karhast says, "Lady Fire."

    Benedicto nods his head. "I feel as though we're heading into battle but we do not know the conditions under which we'll be fighting." He pauses. "That we are purposefully walking into a trap." He draws a breath, sighs it out. "We've faced worse odds and won though. So it is nerves rather than fear."

    Valingar says, "Think on the bright side. Usually it is just the groom nervous on the wedding. Now you are not alone."

    The corners of Valingar's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.

    Valingar says, "But Lady Fire calls for those invited. I think I shall take her way in."

    Valingar says, "If she has one at the Fire."

    Benedicto returns the grin momentarily before he reaches out, earnestly securing Valingar's shoulder in his grip. "I would not have anyone else guard my back or be at my side Valingar. I hope you know this."

    Tilting his head, Valingar says, "Do you have everything you need?"

    Valingar nods, as it was a given, reaching out with the opposite arm to mirror your gesture, squeezing your opposite shoulder. "I know, comrade. You are the brother I never had. We will be fine, or we will burn as much as we can before we perish in a glorious blaze. But the important thing is you get a ring on her."

    (Enorian): Rasani says, "Let us know if You need us, Lady Ethne. I stand ready."

    (Enorian): Ethne says, "Is this all of you now?"

    (Enorian): Melantha says, "And I also."

    (Enorian): Melantha says, "That's all."

    (Enorian): Karhast says, "If things go very wrong, I will be willing to join also."

    (Enorian): Melantha says, "Actually, there's Sekeres too."

    Benedicto nods his head in confirmation, seeming more steady, more confident now. "Go to Lady Ethne. I will see you in Corruption's Temple."

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "You can go and stand in the chapel, on the platform. There, you will wait."

    Distance to Within the green twilight of a rising tunnel: 82.
    Path: s, w, w, se, s, s, s, enter grate, e, n, e, e, ne, u, n, n, n, n, ne, n, n, ne, nw, w, w, nw, n, nw, nw, n, n, nw, n, n, nw, nw, nw, n, nw, w, nw, nw, w, w, nw, nw, w, w, nw, w, w, nw, w, nw, sw, sw, w, nw, nw, s, sw, w, s, s, s, w, s, sw, w, w, nw, u, u, s, u, w, sw, s, sw, w, w, say i give my soul over to corruption
    You start speedwalking.

    You have reached your destination.

    Within the green twilight of a rising tunnel.
    Bits of a rusted, iron lattice underlay are visible through the decaying Archway of Putrefaction that stands at the edge of the cliff. Large chunks of rubble litter the floor.
    You see a single exit leading up.

    You read what is written on a stiff, jade invitation:

    Aloli and Benedicto,

    x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

    Corruption demands the pleasure of your company
    to attend the wedding of Aloli and Benedicto.

    x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

    The Details

    Location X The Isle of Despair
    X Enter via (v2030) and say,
    X "I give my soul over to corruption"
    X The Chapel of Corruption (v15068)
    Time X 17th of Lleian, 485 MA
    X (17/1 One (1) Hour Before Howling)
    Dress Code X Formal
    Officiate X Chakrasul, Goddess of Corruption
    Wedding Party X The Chosen

    x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

    A celebration follows the ending of the ceremony.
    Ever downwards, mortal.

    x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

    The chapel of Corruption.
    An intricate chest of corroded steel stands within a large niche in the wall. A trio of duskywing butterflies are trapped on the wall here. The ethereal form of a guardian angel hangs in midair, cloaked by a pale shimmer. A fearsome reptilian drakir paces here, his body streaked with designs in ochre. Haven is here. He wields a buckler in his left hand and an iron mace in his right. Zenobia is here, inclining her head politely to those around her. Waves of heat distort the image of Ethne, the Rekindled. Jhura leans on a verdant staff of living Heartwood, fingers tapping a steady beat against the vine wreathed wood. She wields a verdant staff of living Heartwood in her hands. Czcibor is here. He wields a delicate-looking dagger of starstone and steel in his left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in his right. Lexen is here. Xavin is here. He wields an elementally infused staff of magewood in his left hand. Nola is here. Aisar stands at the side with her posture straight and alert. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a tower shield in her right. Kaiara is here. She wields a wicked, curved scalpel in her left hand. Rebra is here, hidden. Moxie is here. She wields a sharp-spiked ornately carved mace in her left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in her right. Church is here, hidden. A cloaked figure is here, hidden. Serrice is here. Isia is here. She wields a vicious lumenite dhurive in her hands. Valingar is here. Aishia is here. Stine is here. This area has been overgrown with a swathe of seething plantlife.
    You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    Haven gives you a solemn nod.

    Lexen's hand slides anxiously across his chest a moment, though a look of relief flickers in his eyes before he resumes his weary stance.

    Kaiara casts a sidelong glance at Jhura, offering a sunny smile. "I ran out of time getting everyone else dressed. I like shoes!"

    Kaiara ceases to wield a wicked, curved scalpel in her left hand.

    Stine lays his hand upon your shoulder and declares that he will protect you.

    Valingar says to you, "Welcome, comrade."

    Quickly snapping to a rigid stance, Aisar brings her weapon to a vertical position infront of her chest in an act of respect towards you.

    Kaiara glances up from Jhura, turning her enthusiastic expression upon you, her dark eyes flicking over you.

    Aishia smiles warmly at you, offering an unpracticed curtsy.

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "This will go great! Remember the people who stand behind and beside you in everything, Sir."

    Siorva arrives from the south.

    Jhura returns to her earlier pose, smiling at you.

    Siorva performs a graceful curtsey.

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "You are never alone but rather always with friends."

    Xavin purses his lips and shifts to lean rather heavily against an elementally infused staff of magewood.

    Rebra smiles at Siorva.

    (Tells): Through the ether, Xavin utters to you, "You okay, my friend?"

    Nola quietly lifts a hand at you as her own 'hello' before letting it drop to brush against the silk of her dress' skirt.

    It would appear this is anything less a joyous occasion for Benedicto as he enters the chapel, weathering the various stares of friend and foe alike. He steps forward, working his way towards the front. Once there, he fidgets tugging at a midnight-black uniform with silver trim, his silver cufflinks depicting a snarling boar glinting brightly in the light. "Thank you for coming friends." He directs this very clearly to the Spirit contingent, choosing to ignore the Chosen within the room.

    A font of flaring green flames blossoms in the air before you, molding together to create the hulking form of the Hunter.

    Aisar gives a charred vial to Haern.

    Rebra carefully dips her head at you nonetheless, yellow eyes gleaming, before bowing her head respectfully before Haern.

    You lay your hand upon Valingar's shoulder and declare that you will protect him.

    A goggle-bearing hound wearing fuzzy felt antlers blinks into existence and falls into line behind Stine.

    Zenobia inclines her head politely to Haern.

    (Tells): Lin tells you, "You look magnificent, old friend."

    Czcibor gives you a single nod. "Ever forward, Pentarch," he quietly murmurs, managing a small smile.

    Jhura inclines her head politely to Haern.

    Softly, Rebra says, "Ever, always downwards..."

    A creeping sense of despair hedges into your mind and as the pit begins to manifest in your stomach, you find you're able to smell something sickly sweet; death.

    "Lord Haern. Lady Ethne. It is an honor." Benedicto finishes whilst bowing slightly from his waist.

    Ethne curtly inclines Her head towards you.

    Serrice's nose twitches a couple of times, though he keeps his expression steady.

    Zenobia's eyes sparkle with amusement as she gazes upon Rebra.

    Isia quietly, and seemingly with some hesitation, tucks her dhurive away as she affords you a light bit of a smile before bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she near gags at the smell of the place.

    Benedicto's nose wrinkles slightly as he struggles to maintain an air of impassivity.

    Lexen draws a deep, slow breath, either enjoying the scent or further punishing his senses. His gaze shifts to Isia, and the look of hard indifference fractures a moment before resolving into something troubled.

    Lin watches the proceedings from the rearmost reaches of the Chapel, near the entrance - the only indication the smell bothers her is her flared nostrils.

    Gems shimmering through her mostly transparent gown, Rhine follows in behind Haern before finding Kaiara in the crowd and moving over to stand near her. "Thank You, Boss," she utter to Haern with a respectful nod.

    Nola shifts on her feet, the wood of her sandals tapping the floor. Despite the occasion she appears visibly tense, back straight with watchful amber eyes on alert. She passes a sliver of a smile in the direction of Serrice.

    Jhura shifts her staff a little, bringing the blooming flowers closer to her face.

    Haern offers a nod to the gathered as He enters, taking the small vial from Aisar. He steps out of the doorway carefully, acknowledging you separately.

    Duskywing butterflies precede the entrance of Chakrasul through the southern gates and as She walks towards the dias, the train of Her midnight gown drags over the carpet of insect wings beneath Her feet. One step before the other and She comes to stand before you. She says nothing, but a smile pulls on Her mouth to reveal Her fangs and she crosses over the last step only to turn and face all of you atop the small rise.

    Sekeres steps forward, clasping her hands before her as she drifts next to her people. With a kind smile to you, she glances towards Kaiara, Rhine, and Stine before her sorrel eyes begin to scan for other familiar faces.

    (Tells): Haven tells you, "We got this."

    Rebra kneels down before Chakrasul for a moment, head bowed before Her respectfully, before she gets to her feet again, arranging her gown and cloak.

    Azarae arrives from the south.

    Ethne's eyes narrow as She sees Chakrasul, letting out an audible grunt. She makes Her way slowly to stand next to Kaiara, just to her side. Aishia seems unperturbed by contrast, looking more uncomfortable with her garb, than her location, she keeps awkwardly tugging and shifting at things beneath a floor-length gown of emerald green, squirming around between warm encouraging smiles cast wily-nily about herself.

    Nola's gaze travels after the moving train of the Goddess' gown, quieting noting Her arrival.

    The shoulders of the Goddess remain bare in this breathtaking gown, however a collar cinches beautifully around Her slender throat. A button holds the flush choker against Her skin and a small spiral has been engraved into its obsidian surface. There is a small window between the elegant collar and the bodice that dips into a perfect sweetheart neckline which reveals a tasteful amount of the Immortal's porcelain skin. From the hips of the Goddess springs a skirt that hugs Her legs until mid-thigh, which is where it falls to the ground in gentle folds that ripple when She moves. The whole ensemble has been overlain with a thin, obsidian lace that glimmers with pinpricks of light and the illumination seems to originate from the gleaming shards of volcanic glass. Finally, the layer of lace sweeps into a short train behind the Goddess and living, duskywing butterflies have been cruelly affixed to the limber fabric.

    Kaiara casts a quick smile up at Ethne, adjusting the complicated situation of an elegantly revealing jade gown so she can linger near Ethne, her dark gaze turning to Chakrasul curiously.

    Aisar smiles at Haern.

    Humming a soft, low tune, Church merrily wiggles his bared toes against the floor beneath his feet as he observes the proceedings.

    Zenobia smiles with the entrance of Chakrasul offering a curtsy before resuming her prim and proper posture.

    A harrowing, mournful sigh whips past your ear and as the sound abates, you notice your skin has raised with rails of goosebumps.

    Sekeres's branch-like horns begin to unfurl in the brightest of summer's glory, flowers unfolding in shades of white blossoms. She looks to Lexen briefly before waving over Aishia with a cheery, angular smile.

    Lin emerges from her hiding place.

    Lexen nods his head at Sekeres.

    Benedicto remains still and watches Chakrasul's stately progress, refusing to respond to the taunting smile that curves Her lips.

    Valingar grimaces first at the surroundings, then at the formal wear he wears with no grace. "This is going to be one strange wedding," he says bluntly, breaking the momentary silence.

    (Tells): Valingar tells you, "I don't entirely hate it, truth to be told. This reminds of a battlefield. Lines being drawn."

    (Tells): Valingar tells you, "Gahaha."

    Serrice lets out a soft, quiet chuckle at Valingar's words, though his red eyes do also narrow for a handful of seconds as he casts his gaze about.

    Aishia glances Valingar over again, smiling a little smugly. "I didn't think you'd actually wear it all." She murmurs, crossing her arms beneath her prodigious bosom as if to still her own fidgeting.

    Nola yields to the creep of a grin as her eyes dart towards Valingar momentarily, passing her glance over Aishia as well.

    # Name ETA
    233 Corruption's Wedding of Aloli and Benedicto DONE

    EVENTS INFO <#> for more information.

    Corruption's Wedding of Aloli and Benedicto
    -------------------------------------------
    GMT Time: 2020/01/17 23:00:00
    Your time: 2020/01/18 00:00:00

    Information:

    "Gracious of you to join, My beloved Siblings." Comes the soft croon of Chakrasul as She shares Her twisted smile with Haern and Ethne. "Sister, You look... Like a warrior forced into a dress. Fitting, I suppose. Radiant none the less. Brother, You... Tired. Thank You." Respect is shown to Her Siblings in the form of a small dip of Her head. Then those verdant eyes are on the gathering again. "To open this celebration, I had planned to divulge the information on what brought about this arrangement." She pauses to assess every shifting expression in the chapel, but decides to continue. "However, as the Abbess has begun to admit to her lie - given she explicitly used My name in that lie to draw My attention about a meeting we never had; a trap for Me if you will - to some of her close friends, and the Truth is beginning to spread for My Brother, I do not believe it is necessary to delve into the details. There is obviously more to this story than the surface explanation you were all given. With the debt to be paid, the wedding of Benedicto and Aloli, who will be bound by Corruption, will begin." With that, She sweeps Her left hand forward to flutter towards the entrance of the chapel.

    Chakrasul says, "Please, be seated."

    Rebra finds her place at a pew near the front. She sits down carefully, perched on the edge of the seat, yellow eyes gleaming as they gaze upon Chakrasul. The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across the lips of Ethne as She glances at Kaiara.

    Looking highly uncomfortable, Nola looks over at you with a sympathetic press of her lips. She touches Haven at the elbow as guiding towards a pair of seats.

    Aishia shuffles into a seat, crossing stocking-sheathed scaly legs beneath herself as she shuffles into a comfortable position a vicious yellow brown dhurive clattering out of her skirts to the ground at her feet. She casts a casual glance down at it, then raises her eyes nonchalantly back to the proceedings, using a foot to nudge it beneath herself inconspicuously.

    As Haven waits for the ceremony to get underway, he finds his sights gradually drifting over to Lexen. An agonizingly slow appraisal as his sea-blue eyes scroll over his form. Weighing. Judging. Not a subtle creature, no. Should their gazes meet, it would be a blatant, bold, and deliberate stare. A moment that would stretch taut for the former Knight until it breaks in the next. It only when Chakrasul begins Her speech that Haven's attention diverts.

    Lin takes a seat in the back, all by herself, one leg crossed over the other. She stares intensely at Chakrasul with an unreadable expression.

    A cloaked figure quickly finds a seat and sits down.

    Kaiara glances towards Ethne, her attention turning to the pews with some suspicion. After a moment, she perches herself on a seat towards the back, trying to find one with an appropriate amount of space around it. She makes a beckoning gesture towards Church, though she watches Ethne as well.

    A collision of kaleidoscopic nerves resonate within him. The usual nerves of a groom in anticipation of his brides appearance. Concern for her safety within the dangerous environ. Fear of the unknown to come at the hands of Chakrasul.

    Xavin glances towards Isia briefly before sinking onto one of the pews rather awkwardly and doing his best to not look at Chakrasul.

    His expression intense, Czcibor takes a seat at one of the pews, towards the centre aisle.

    Ander glances sidelong to Rhine, his hands linking before him. He retreats to perch himself on a nearby seat, though he restlessly jiggles hislegs from his seated position.

    The suit wrapped around you gives you an uncomfortable, metaphysical squeeze, acknowledged with every sense you possess. Your heartbeat begins to quicken, and the tentacles at the nape of your neck begin to stand on end.

    Valingar takes a seat close to the front, but only after what seems like a considerable amount of internal struggle, his eyebrows furrowed together.

    Ethne walks around behind Kaiara and finds a spot to her left, sitting down upon the bench. She is barely able to fit, wobbling a little forward at first as She settles, but She manages to find Her balance and place all the same. With that, Her gaze shifts towards the front of the chapel.

    Azarae glances around for a suitable place to sit down before waltzing over to one and taking a seat, nearest to where she had entered.

    Serrice scouts out a seat nearby, staying close to Xavin and Isia.

    Lexen remains in place under Haven's stare, clearly aware of it, though he doesn't return the contact. He sits at the last moment, sliding into the seat furthest back, his posture rigidly straight, and jaw muscles clenched tight.

    Siorva glances about before finding a spot to sit down and gets comfortable, a gentle smile upon her face as she watches her surroundings eagerly.

    Moving away from Kaiara, Rhine takes a seat next Ander, motioning for Sekeres to join.

    "As if I haven't...got enough....to worry about!" A strained thought, fighting through the growing tension brought on by the proximity of the Warlords essence.

    Talonnb deftly lowers the hood of a cloak of obscurity, revealing his identity.

    You cannot see the instruments, but you can hear them as a soft, haunting melody begins to filter into the chapel. The gentle plucking of a harp, the subtle draw of a violin and the low beat of a piano - all of them meld beautifully together to begin the morose tune.

    Sekeres settles towards the front, a hand placed across her sash as she takes a seat next to Rhine. Her eyes shifting to a vibrant shade of lavender, her expression placid.

    Zenobia takes her place beside Rebra guiding Siorva to join them. Gracefully sinking down to seat herself on the pew, tail flicking about lazily.

    After allowing Ethne to squeeze past into the seat, Church seats himself on the opposite side of Kaiara. Settling into a comfortable position, he stretches his legs forward towards the pew before them, feet tapping to an unheard tune.

    Aisar sits at the edge of a pew with an alert gaze. Her demeanor is serene yet she observes all around her with the black and amber flecks in her emerald eyes becoming slightly more prominent. A slight shift of her posture is done so she can face the chapel.

    Benedicto stiffens and a bead of sweat absently rolls down his brow. Clearly something troubles him, something he desperately strives to control.

    Moxie finds her seat in one of the pews near the center aisle and gathers her hands into her lap, relieved of the burden of standing.

    "They're ready, Brother." Chakrasul coos as She fixes Her entire attention on the gates of the chapel.

    (Tells): Aisar tells you, "Breathe, Sir."

    Aishia reaches over to take her husbands hand for a moment, fingers loose as if afraid to constrain him.

    (Tells): Kaiara's thoughts fill your head, "You can do this!"

    Jhura settles carefully onto a pew, taking a place close to Kaiara, the plantlife at her feet coiling about her legs.

    Aloli is here! DADADA!
    Bringing an aura of tension with Him, Bamathis, the Warlord arrives from the south.

    And then, Bamathis is there, tall and imperious, Aloli held tight against Him by one encircling arm each. Waves of tension roll off of the Immortal, hazing the air immediately around Himself and Aloli. He stops at the back of the aisle before casting a cold, impassive gaze around the room, quickly scanning through those present. "Stand!" He commands.

    (Tells): You tell Kaiara, "It isn't nerves....it's the Warlord."
    Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. - Khalil Gibran
  • AloliAloli Between Books
    edited February 2020
    Aloli's Preparations
    You pause for a moment as a sickly sweet smell wafts past your nose, and you look away for a
    moment and to an unknown location.

    The fresh grass has started to soak through the burnoose Aloli had been relaxing on, so she climbs to her feet and collects it in the same motion. She pauses after standing to look around, searching for something, "What is that smell?" she queries curiously then looks across the garden to Serrice to see if he smelled it too.

    Frantic, and a little fearful, you look over your shoulder before you feel a heavy object begin to form between your hands. Jade essence roils over itself until it solidifies into a box.

    Aloli quickly looks down, into her hands, to see a simple jade-hued box, and she startles at the way the jade essence roils. Immediately, dropping it to the ground, then looking back up to search for its source or owner. Her heart beats faster as she whispers with dread, "My goodness..."

    Slightly perturbed, Serrice says, "Looks like you have a gift."

    "No shoes. I want you to feel them under your feet." The instructions are simple and delivered only as a subtle whisper against your mind. "Wear what is in that box. And undergarments, I suppose."

    You open a simple jade-hued box.
    Simple in design, this box is big enough to hold a rather large garment or a whole bunch of
    small things. Made from shards of jade, the only other decoration is the black ribbon that secures the lid to the box when it is tied together.
    It has 125 weeks of usefulness left.
    It weighs about 15 pound(s).
    A simple jade-hued box is holding:
    "gown246689" a duskywing butterfly inlaid wedding gown of white
    "veil294161" a shimmering veil with living duskywing butterflies
    It is holding 2 objects.

    a duskywing butterfly inlaid wedding gown of white
    Although it has been made from a perfect cut of white fabric, this wedding gown is simple, yet elegant in its design. The bodice of the gown wraps snugly around the torso of the wearer and the soft curve over the wearer's chest dips beautifully into a sweetheart neckline. The skirt is slightly cinched at the waist and it tumbles down to the wearer's feet. The supple fabric breathes so easily, it almost looks like water when it moves. Overlaying the entire gown is a soft, ivory lace that whorls over the wedding gown in random, vine-like patterns that splinter away from each other. The layer of lace, however, overflows into a beautifully long train that trails the wearer by three feet. A discreet button has been sewn into the bottom of the bodice for the train to loop onto when it needs to be. Finally, the most breathtaking accents on this dress is the mixture of living, and dead, duskywing butterflies. Instead of using a traditional pearling to accent the hemming on the bodice, the creator of this gown has folded a multitude of butterfly wings along its lines and some of the shimmering, membranous pieces boast death-head patterns. The living insects, however, flutter futilely against the lace beneath their thin, trapped legs. The overall effect is rather morose and disturbing.

    a shimmering veil with living duskywing butterflies
    Attached to a beautiful, silver tiara is this wedding veil. The headpiece itself is decorated with chakra blossoms that exude a sickly sweet scent; reminiscent of decay. The veil is comprised of a shimmering, white fabric that spans four feet in length, allowing it to cover the wearer's face with plenty to spare, or be pushed back to trail over the back of the head and down the wearer's back. What is disturbing about this veil, however, is the living duskywing butterflies that have been glued cruelly to the fabric and every time the material ripples, they start fluttering in an attempt to escape.

    Aloli takes some time to look into the box, and what she finds disturbs her. Beautiful and dreadfully disturbing, she thinks to herself, but the slow lour upon her expressive face displays her disgust. She decides to head home to think and feel. She says her farewell to Serrice after picking up the box with a quieted nod then heads on her way.

    After sitting on the front porch swing of their house for what may look like an eternity of Aloli staring at a simple jade-hued box and its content with trepidation, she decides she is done worrying and being scared, it's time to have faith and trust in her betrothed and her beloved God.

    While holding her breath, Aloli carefully unpacks the wedding gown and veil from the box and lays them on the swing next to her. Their stench is enough to make her sick. Eventually, she comes to terms that she needs to go upstairs and put them on. Her mind drifts to Benedicto again, and she finds solace and courage in him, so she takes the garments into her arms and calls a friend for help.

    Kaiara follows you to the northwest.
    A dimmed withdrawing room (62851) - the Isle of Mostyn (100)
    The few lanterns resting on the tables are dimly lit to extend their lifespan, their light joins the few beams cutting through the shuttered windows to illuminate the room. One lantern sits on a table betwixt two armchairs. There's a wardrobe, a comfortable couch, and a few moving boxes still by the wall. Relief carvings decorate the double doors of a wooden wardrobe that stands here. Supple lace and butterfly wings fold over each other in a neat pile nearby; a wedding gown abandoned. Small duskywing butterflies attempt to flit away from the shimmering pile of fabric that is a nearby wedding veil. Happily running around despite depth perception, a one-eyed dog is here. Kaiara is here. She wields a vicious black dhurive in her hands.
    You see exits leading southeast (open pine door) and south (open pine door).

    Even though the room is somewhat cluttered with boxes, it is relaxing enough and spacious enough to get dressed in. Aloli apologizes to Kaiara as she gingerly sets a duskywing butterfly inlaid wedding gown of white down on the couch, trying her best to disturb its hem as little as possible. "Sorry about the mess, Benedicto and I are still unpacking, which might explain his occasional trousers shortage but, one day we'll have time to clean up everything." Shortly after, she handles a shimmering veil with living duskywing butterflies similarly, setting it carefully down on an armchair, then stepping back and sighing, shaking her head at her attire, and dreading it.

    Kaiara smiles and says, "It's just fine."

    Kaiara brings her hands together, the soft material of her fingerless gloves muffling the 'clap' of them. "Well! Let's find our way into this delicate thing," she remarks, gingerly seizing the material.

    Eyeing the gown before turning to you, Kaiara holds it before your silhouette, assessing the fit before gently lowering the material into a controlled pool of fabric for you to step into.

    Aloli grimaces when her eyes catch the living butterflies again. "Maybe I'll grow numb to the feeling by the time I see him ..." She tries to reassure herself as she starts unknotting the cloth wrap that binds her breasts, quickly it unfurls and pulls away, leaving pressure marks behind. Her typical modesty and shyness are absent at the moment, and she continues disrobing. The skirt goes next, absently wiggling it down her hips as she converses with Kaiara. All the clothes and accessories are piled on the table and chairs closeby. "Father, give me strength," she prays as she looks down at the pooled dress, preparing to step into it.

    Kaiara patiently waits throughout the divestment of your clothing, her attention lingering on the garment in her hands - notably, her slender fingers strive to remain free of the trapped butterflies, her mouth drawn into a flat line for the moment. At your words, she glances up to you, nodding agreeably. "This will only make you stronger. You've endured much - just think of even the times we've been in combat alone! - and you can do this."

    Those words have been repeated to Aloli by Kaiara enough times within the day that she is starting to forget the sense of dread. "Yes, you're right." She concedes, then suddenly she realizes she's not wearing any undergarments and her eyes widen. She immediately covers her breasts, cupping them with her hands even though her hips are bare, and she panics. "Oh no... I forgot to bring a bra and ..."

    Kaiara lifts both eyebrows at your modesty, blinking guilelessly. "Well, I could make you some, but they aren't really wedding.. like," she muses, said brows pinching together thoughtfully. "I don't think I could customize you anything in this timeframe."

    Aloli shakes her head and goes to a wooden wardrobe with Ankyrean relief carvings, opening it and exhaling with relief as soon as she finds a matching set of lace undergarments. "You do so much already. I think something like this should be fine."

    Kaiara nods demurely, working the material in her fingertips carefully, remarking, "This _is_ very fine material."

    Kaiara says to you, "I need to send an urgent letter for a moment. DON'T MOVE. I'll be RIGHT back. Okay?"

    You nod your head emphatically.

    Kaiara leaves to the southeast.

    It is now dawn on Kinsday, the 16th of Lleian, year 485 of the Midnight Age.

    A bloom of iron and light flares to greet the sun, freshening the air with the tang of metal and herbs.

    A serene whisper fills the air as the myriad tiles along a figurine of Damariel pivot and turn in their settings, rearranging into a new aspect of the Unbound.

    Kaiara enters from the southeast, riding a baleful spiked raloth.
    A baleful spiked raloth begins to follow Kaiara.

    Kaiara looks thoughtful and says, "Okay! So sorry about that. The Hunter needed something a bit more formal than a loincloth."

    You look surprised and say, "Oh, dear...He's attending?"

    Kaiara looks thoughtful and says, "I'm not sure. But it sounds like it."

    Aloli finds more comfort in knowing this little detail, it shows in the way the tension in her shoulders relaxes a bit, "This will be amazing," she immediately shares then reconsiders, "I hope."

    Kaiara says, "I hope so, the outfit I made was -perfect- for Him."

    Kaiara says unsurely, "I hope He likes it."

    Aloli grows thoughtful as her moistened blue eyes drift over the wedding gown once more, she reassures Kaiara, "I'm sure He will. He strikes me as an easily pleased God, but I assume He will be eager to get out of what you made and back into His loincloth." There is an underlying worry in her, and she expresses it, "I'm sure His presence will help alleviate any tension, and hopefully there will be no violence with Him there... Unless She plans to destroy my reputation completely then that's a different matter, but I hope that's not the case."

    "She can try," Kaiara returns stubbornly.

    Aloli smiles warmly at Kaiara's stubbornness and support, giving her a quiet and thankful look, "I am grateful for you, Kaiara, for being here and helping me through this."

    Kaiara says to you, "Alright, naked lady. Let's get you into a dress!"

    You blush furiously.

    Kaiara giggles happily.

    You smile and say, "Yes, let's."

    Kaiara shifts from your side, stooping to retrieve the dress from where she had let it pool. Glancing towards you, she gingerly parts the fabric so there is a clear space to step into amid all of the fabric and its foibles. "Okay, step here and we'll pull it up..."

    Aloli sighs and gingerly lifts one leg to step inside the dress then the other. Suddenly, she remembers she's not wearing any underwear, again. "Oh no, hold on!" She slides the undergarments down and tries to slip into them, one foot at a time, in the minimal space she has inside the dress. Surprisingly, she doesn't lose her balance.

    Kaiara laughs, the sound delighted despite the dress below them. "Oh, right! That's important," she imparts, nodding seriously. "What if there's a stiff breeze? Just put your hand on my shoulder if you need to balance."

    Aloli's feet stay well away from the edges of the dress and twirls about herself to get Kaiara's help fitting into the bra. "I really don't like these things," she announces as she slips her arms into it.

    Kaiara straightens to help, stabilizing you with a hand on your shoulder before seizing either side of the bra's straps to fix it together. "Yes," she agrees, her tone compliant. "They are uncomfortable at best and torturous at worst."

    Kaiara looks thoughtful and says to you, "That's very nice. Too bad I don't have a slip for you."

    Kaiara blinks.

    You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

    You ask Kaiara, "Are you all right?"

    Kaiara looks surprised and says to you, "Lord Haern gave me rum as a thank you."

    "Aww!" you say.

    You say, "Don't get drunk while you're dressing me!"

    Kaiara giggles, her features warm as she nods, though she slants a sly glance at you, prompting a carved flagon full of rum. "Maybe you want a sip?" she offers cheerily. "You know, to soothe your nerves."

    Aloli considers the offer for a minute as she eyes the flagon, "That's not a bad idea, She continues standing half-naked inside the dress as it pools around her in a particular heap.

    Kaiara ignores the dress at their feet, instead passing a carved flagon to you quickly, her expression encouraging. "Anything that is going to make this easier for you, makes it perfect for me."

    Aloli accepts the flagon and takes a small sip, pulling a face as she returns the rum back to Kaiara.

    Accepting the flagon and setting it aside for now, Kaiara watches you with a glittering gaze. "We'll have to thank Lord Haern for the liquid courage, I think," she offers, shifting from standing beside you to gather the fabric of the dress once more. "Are you ready?"

    Aloli nods her readiness as she faces this with courage. Her hands are held out to prepare to slip into the sleeves of the dress as carefully as possible.

    Kaiara meets your nod with her own, standing upright and slowly bringing the gown with her. As she goes, she makes sure to move carefully over your curves, ensuring the gown doesn't tug or snag anywhere as she brings the sleeves to your arms, watching you all the while. "There, just that arm, then the other... It's such easy fabric, I'd hate to hurt it," she murmurs, a low cascade of comments to the dress and about it as she helps you into it.

    A sprawling venantium cuff tinges red as it reveals Serrice trying to locate you.

    Aloli gracefully follows the directions, one arm at a time, and does not bother with her hair for now. She stands rather stiffly once fitted inside the dress but bends her arms to adjust the collar in place, leaving her back open still. "God, I can feel them on my feet." She says with a measure of panic in her voice as she quickly shifts her feet closer together and away from the hem of the dress.

    You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Serrice.
    You see that Serrice is at A meeting of two boulevards in the City of Enorian.

    A soft huff of air escapes Kaiara, ghosting into the air between you and Kaiara, the corners of her mouth down-turned for a moment before she shakes herself - shoulders and down the spine - before picking and fussing at the gown, finishing its ties and bringing the train up into a bustle. "Well, we'll just try to..." she muses thoughtfully, "set them further along the edge here..." As she works, she carefully pulls the hem away from you feet, helpfully.

    Aloli pulls all her hair out and to one side to help as much as she can but otherwise remains standing still, not something she's unaccustomed to through her years of training. Once all is in place, she exhales at length and looks ahead, trying to clear her mind and find her inner peace once more, even though the dress smells disgusting to her.

    Though the work between them goes relatively silent and neat, Kaiara hums soft, marital notes as she goes, finishing fussing with the dress to turn delicate hands to your hair, carefully removing it from your hands to settle it gently against your back. "There. There!" she announces, walking around to face you with a warm expression. "You're lovely. Nevermind the dress, Church did an -amazing- job on your hair."

    Aloli drops her hands to her side and is careful not to disturb the dress too much. She smiles weakly to Kaiara's compliments, but her inner glow shines a little brighter. "I do love the way my hair looks - I have to find a way to thank him after."

    "Maybe we can dye the white parts of his hair while he's sleeping," Kaiara ponders, canting her head to one side in a tumble of curls. "I'm sure he'd like that."

    With a raised brow and a tiny step forward to test how she fares with walking, Aloli asks, "He wouldn't wake up when you disturb him that way, would he?" Soon she realizes she has to walk in a particular way to avoid rattling the dress's skirt and the butterflies along the hem. "This is going to take practice." It seems a distressing endeavor.

    Glancing behind her, Kaiara backs up some before beckoning towards you. "Here, come a little further for practice," she encourages, pausing before adding, "And maybe. But that's half the fun of it."

    Aloli slowly steps toward Kaiara. Her footing is slow and deliberate; she does not kick the dress. Were she to be seen walking like this, she would appear to glide or float on the ground. The second step seems to go better, even though it is deliberate. A few steps later she looks up from her feet to smile appreciatively to Kaiara, "I think I have it. I'll tiptoe so I'm hovering a little and not disturb them."

    "That's for the best," Kaiara agrees, her beckoning hands falling to her sides. "I'm grateful you've allowed me to help you in this. Is there anything you need before I go stuff Rhine into a dress she doesn't want to wear?"

    "You're thanking me? I am thankful to you. I couldn't have been so calm without you and Benedicto talking to me through this." Aloli stands still as she prepares to see Kaiara off, "I'd hug you but ..."

    Kaiara nods agreeably, briefly squeezing herself and opening her arms toward you in the parody of sending you a hug. "It's okay. Let me know if you need anything!"

    Aloli giggles as Kaiara's makeshift hug, "I will. I'll just stay here and practice walking some more and not gagging at the stench."

    Kaiara nods her head affirmatively.

    You say, "Check in on Bene too?"

    Kaiara nods her head emphatically.

    Kaiara says, "I will."

    Kaiara leaves to the southeast.

    (Tells): You tell Benedicto, "Bene?"

    (Tells): Benedicto Silverain tells you, "You received one also?"

    (Tells): You tell Benedicto, "Received what?"

    (Tells): Benedicto Silverain tells you, "Attire for the wedding?"

    (Tells): You tell Benedicto, "Oh yes, I got a box that had a veil and a wedding dress in it. They're very disturbing."

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "Now. Let Me tell you some of the formal aspects. You will not enter the room, as everyone else does. You will wait for them to arrive, then you will wait one room SOUTH of the chapel. At that time, the Being giving you away will make Himself known."

    Aloli briefly gazes around for the source of the voice until she recognizes the tone and grows tense. "Yes, of course. I'll wait to the south." The tension in her rises as her posture stiffens and her heart beats faster. Even though she is dressed for her wedding, she feels like someone preparing for a massacre or funeral.

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "As for wedding rings, I have arranged them. A gift, from Me, to you."

    "... Oh... You are a most generous Goddess!" Aloli voices slowly and quietly, her surprise quite evident.

    "She seems kind." The thought is as muted as possible, unfortunately her current emotional state lowers her usual mental barriers. "Is that how She'll curse our marriage?" More wandering thoughts. Millions of questions, all end with a hope: "I wish I had gotten a chance to know Her on better circumstances..." Her thoughts are all over the place. "Could there ever be better circumstances?"

    It is now midnight on Gosday, the 17th of Lleian, year 485 of the Midnight Age.
    Today is one of the days of the First Month of Mourning.

    # Name ETA
    233 Corruption's Wedding of Aloli and Benedicto 13m

    EVENTS INFO <#> for more information.

    Corruption's Wedding of Aloli and Benedicto
    -------------------------------------------
    GMT Time: 2020/01/17 23:00:00
    Your time: 2020/01/17 16:00:00

    Information:

    [HINT]: It makes it easier for people figuring out time-zones.

    You're absolutely right.

    As time goes on, Aloli tires of standing and of controlling her breathing to avoid the stench of her dress. She gingerly walks to one of the tables and retrives a bottle of essential oil then dabs a little of it under her nose. She breathes deeply of the lavender oil and dabs a two more on her neck. She goes to the window and opens the shutters, looking out at the mountain peak breaking the peaceful calm of the ocean's horizon.

    A sprawling venantium cuff tinges red as it reveals Haven trying to locate you.

    A dimmed withdrawing room (62851) - the Isle of Mostyn (100) The few lanterns resting on the tables are dimly lit to extend their lifespan, their light joins the few beams cutting through the shuttered windows to illuminate the room. One lantern sits on a table betwixt two armchairs. There's a wardrobe, a comfortable couch, and a few moving boxes still by the wall. Relief carvings decorate the double doors of a wooden wardrobe that stands here. Supple lace and butterfly wings fold over each other in a neat pile nearby; a wedding gown abandoned. Small duskywing butterflies attempt to flit away from the shimmering pile of fabric that is a nearby wedding veil. Happily running around despite depth perception, a one-eyed dog is here. You see exits leading southeast (open pine door) and south (open pine door).


    (Tells): You tell Haven, "I'm just home, just trying to remain calm."

    (Tells): Haven Locke tells you, "We are here for you."

    (Tells): You tell Haven, "At the temple?"

    (Tells): Haven Locke tells you, "Preparing to head over now."

    (Tells): You tell Benedicto, "Good luck, my love."

    (Tells): Benedicto Silverain tells you, "And you my love."

    A sprawling venantium cuff tinges red as it reveals Aishia trying to locate you.

    (Tells): Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike tells you, "Everything alright?"

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "If anyone not on your list attends, I will be removing them. Not gently."

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "Except for My own, obviously. They have all been invited."

    (Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "Yes, of course. I understand."

    (Tells): Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike tells you, "Our husbands are having a private moment, I just thought I would check in with you as well."

    (Tells): Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike tells you, "Your almost-husband."

    (Tells): You tell Aishia, "I am a bit nervous but I'm meditating to calm my nerves down. Kaiara
    helped me get all dressed up and sorted out."

    (Tells): Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike tells you, "Perfect."

    (Tells): Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike tells you, "Checking my weapons, checking my clothings."

    (Duiran): Haern says, "Council."

    (Duiran): Xavin says, "Hunter!"

    (Duiran): Aisar says, "Well met, Lord!"

    (Duiran): Jhura says, "Greetings, Hunter."

    (Duiran): Serrice says, "Lord Hunter."

    (Duiran): Sekeres says, "Hail hunter."

    (Duiran): Czcibor says, "Greetings, Lord Haern."

    (Duiran): Amarylis says, "Hello, Lord Haern."

    (Duiran): Rhine says, "Hellos, Lord Hunter."

    (Duiran): Lin says, "Evening to You."

    (Duiran): Haern says, "If any of you've been invited to this wedding, I will be providing passage into Her church."

    (Tells): Brother Ander Gallant tells you, "How are you feeling?"

    A sprawling venantium cuff tinges red as it reveals Haven trying to locate you.

    (Duiran): Haern says, "Ahem. Those who wish to accompany Me, come to the Core."

    (Duiran): Ameliah says, "Mmrr is this wedding a punishment?"

    (Duiran): You say, "Yes. We gave it to Her as a peace offering."

    (Duiran): Ameliah says, "Mmrr, then why would any give Her satisfaction of attending? Deny Her that which She wants, attention."

    (Duiran): Haern says, "Anyone else, before we depart?"

    (Duiran): Kaiara says, "Because Aloli needs us."

    (Duiran): Jhura says, "Because we do not attend for Her, we attend to support our friends."

    (Duiran): Ameliah says, "Mmrr can always have a nice ceremony at home with those that actually matter."

    (Duiran): Sekeres says, "We support our Abbess!"

    (Duiran): Lin says, "Deny the Goddess of Corruption and see how that goes for you."

    (Duiran): You say, "Thank you Singer."

    (Duiran): Ameliah says, "Mmrr, I believe I already do in my life, since I stand against corruption."

    (Duiran): Amarylis says, "Dealings with Gods aren't done lightly, I'm afraid. Good luck to those who go."

    (Duiran): Aishia says, "It's a bit awkward to walk hiding a dhuriv in your skirts."

    (Tells): Her voice laden with crackling fire, Sekeres whispers warmly to you, "I would never part from your side for anything, sister-friend."

    (Duiran): Amarylis says, "Why are you hiding it?"

    (Duiran): Sekeres says, "Or a dagger strapped to a leg, but it is enough."

    (Tells): You tell Sekeres, "I really do appreciate you."

    (Tells): Haven Locke tells you, "Remember Nola's gift to you. Clutch it if need be."

    (Tells): You tell Haven, "I'm not letting it go along with Father's bloom...it reminds me of the Light and resilience."

    You are transported by the power of the Divine.
    Gallery of Might (13496) - Tiyen Indoron (111)
    Archways rest at either end of this room, both decorated elaborately with spiral carvings from the floor to the ceiling. The floor itself is covered in black marble, trails of jade carried throughout it. The walls are plain stone though are polished to a bright sheen. Covering the walls are many tapestries, each depicting scenes of wars and events throughout the ages of well-known figures taking what they want. Beyond that, there is little other decoration as a reminder that might does not require elaboration. There are 3 darkened souls here.
    You see exits leading north (open pine door), southeast, south, and southwest.

    You breathe a sigh of relief.

    "Thank God I didn't have to walk here!" A wave of relief washes over her mind only to be instantly replaced with panic and worry at the sight of the gathering ahead.

    Drifting out silently, a mass of mist slips towards the southwest.

    You glance towards the north.
    The chapel of Corruption.
    An intricate chest of corroded steel stands within a large niche in the wall. A trio of duskywing butterflies are trapped on the wall here. The ethereal form of a guardian angel hangs in midair, cloaked by a pale shimmer. A fearsome reptilian drakir paces here, his body streaked with designs in ochre. Haven Locke is here. He wields a buckler in his left hand and an iron mace in his right. Zenobia is here, inclining her head politely to those around her. Waves of heat distort the image of Ethne, the Rekindled. Jhura leans on a verdant staff of living Heartwood, fingers tapping a steady beat against the vine wreathed wood. She wields a verdant staff of living Heartwood in her hands. Student Czcibor is here. He wields a delicate-looking dagger of starstone and steel in his left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in his right. Squire Lexen Verite, the Kinslayer is here. Headmaster Xavin Taziyah is here. He wields an elementally infused staff of magewood in his left hand. Fyerin Nola Locke is here. Aisar stands at the side with her posture straight and alert. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a tower shield in her right. Kaiara is here. Empress Rebra Nehekhara is here, hidden. Khimaira Moxie Celaeno, The Lark is here. She wields a sharp-spiked ornately carved mace in her left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in her right. Church is here, hidden. A cloaked figure is here, hidden. Serrice, the Black Fox is here. Carihe Ihiem Isia Adesso, the Gilded Huntress is here. Valingar is here. Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike is here. Siorva Veriona is here. Sir Stine D. Emerson is here. Benedicto Silverain is here. He wields the living trident, Riptide in his right hand. This area has been overgrown with a swathe of seething plantlife.
    You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    Drifting out silently, a mass of mist slips towards the southwest.

    A font of flaring green flames blossoms in the air before you, molding together to create the
    hulking form of the Hunter.

    A flickering gateway of fell green fire blossoms in the air before you, wavering outwards as the Hunter lumbers through it with a guttural chant.

    (Tells): A low, sultry voice resounds within the depths of your mind, "You will wait here."

    "As You wish."

    A font of flaring green flames blossoms in the air before you, molding together to create the hulking form of the Hunter.

    A flickering gateway of fell green fire blossoms in the air before you, wavering outwards as the Hunter lumbers through it with a guttural chant.

    Bamathis is suddenly there, right beside you. He looks down onto you, features cold and impassive. "I will be escorting you, Abbess."

    Aloli startles as she had been standing rather still and focusing on her breathing. She quickly lifts her gaze to the Warlord and immediately her heart starts beating faster. "Yes, of course," she answers after studying the cold and impassive features briefly then turns to look ahead. Unsure what to do with her hands she lets them rest at her sides, very careful not to disturb the living butterflies being tortured on her dress. She tries to calm herself though she is clearly flushed as one might look before crying.

    (Tells): In a deep, gravelly voice, Lexen imparts to you, "I'm here, like it or not. If you wish me to present you to your husband-- I doubt it will stand out in this ceremony."

    Bamathis watches for a long moment more, studying you. Finally, He offers one arm. "Take My arm, Abbess. I will see you safely to your betrothed." He states the words with an utter, implacable confidence - as if nothing in this world could possibly refuse Him, or harm you. "My gift to you - you will know no harm during this."

    (Tells): Kaiara's thoughts fill your head, "You can do this."

    Aloli exhales a quick and short huff of relief, visibly relaxing from her stiffened posture and gaining a little more confidence in the situation. "I greatly appreciate Your protection, my Lord," were words spoken softly but with great gratitude and a new-found respect for the God. She lifts her left hand to hooks under Bamathis' right arm, readying herself to walk very carefully in step with Him. However, she seems to struggle with the living butterflies trying to fly on the veil.

    (Tells): You tell Kaiara, "Thank you, I'm trying."

    A sprawling venantium cuff tinges red as it reveals Yedan trying to locate you.

    (Tells): You tell Lexen, "I'm glad that you're here. I don't hate you. Still, Lord Bamathis is going to walk me safely to Benedicto - I can't ask for better protection when Her chosen are here."

    Bamathis offers only the barest of nods before turning to face the north. He secures you tightly against Him, something resolute crossing over His features. "Do not let them see you weak, Abbess. Never let them see you weak before a battle - even one fought without weapons."

    Aloli stands up straighter as she registers the advice and her chin lifts higher. Though she is a woman of few words, this advice helps her immensely at the moment. Clutched in her right hand is her God's gifted bloom, her grip on it relaxes a little as it is raised to be held before her at waist level, symbolically and literally lighting the way before her. The other hand remains tight on Bamathis' arm, using it for stability in case she trips over her dress. She too faces forward and nods, "Courage and Strength..." she answers to demonstrate her understanding but also as a reminder to herself. Almost immediately the annoyance she had been experiencing with the butterflies around her dies, a response to the advice given.

    He is an Immortal and stands as the pinnacle of His Ankyrean embodiment. Pointed ears peek out from His long hair, midnight dark with a predator's gleam which drapes down His back and shoulders. Cut like almonds and cast in eerie silver, His eyes set the severe tone of His angular, slender face. Tall with a muscular physique, His light complexion has a nearly metallic undertone, as if His being was merely a pleasing veneer over venantium. A perfectly circular burn is set high up and center of His chest, a blackened mass of flesh roughly wrist width.

    (worn upon the forearm) : an argent armband of oaths
    (covering the torso, reaching His knees) : a long tunic cut from strange black cloth
    (sculpted to His frame) : a gleaming cuirass of argent venantium
    (secured over His shins) : polished venantium greaves
    (strapped tight) : a warrior's reinforced sandals


    Aloli briefly lowers her gaze to look at Bamathis' attire curiously, particularly interested in His shoes. This seems prompted by the disturbing feeling of butterflies sometimes touching her feet. She lightly wiggles her toes, fully aware of bare feet as the Goddess had asked. She returns her gaze to the north, facing forward again and clearing her mind.

    You cease wielding a worry stone in your left hand.

    You follow Bamathis to the north.
    The chapel of Corruption.
    An intricate chest of corroded steel stands within a large niche in the wall. A trio of duskywing butterflies are trapped on the wall here. The ethereal form of a guardian angel hangs in midair, cloaked by a pale shimmer. A fearsome reptilian drakir paces here, his body streaked with designs in ochre. A hound with goggles strapped about its head sniffs at the ground here. Haven Locke is here. He wields a buckler in his left hand and an iron mace in his right. Zenobia Cardinalis is here. Waves of heat distort the image of Ethne, the Rekindled. Jhura leans on a verdant staff of living Heartwood, fingers tapping a steady beat against the vine wreathed wood. She wields a verdant staff of living Heartwood in her hands. Brother Ander Gallant is here. Student Czcibor is here. He wields a delicate-looking dagger of starstone and steel in his left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in his right. Squire Lexen Verite, the Kinslayer is here. Headmaster Xavin Taziyah is here. He wields an elementally infused staff of magewood in his left hand. Fyerin Nola Locke is here. Lin is seated in the back of the chapel. Squire Aisar Celaeno, the Owl is here. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a tower shield in her right. Surrounded in an aura of defilement, Azarae Nehekhara is here, hidden. She wields a buckler in her left hand and a gleaming scimitar in her right. Haern looms here, his hulking form dominating the area. Kaiara is here. Huntress Sekeres Dark-Wing is here. She wields a Shamanic quarterstaff in her hands. Empress Rebra Nehekhara is here, hidden. Khimaira Moxie Celaeno, The Lark is here. She wields a sharp-spiked ornately carved mace in her left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in her right. Church is here, hidden. Dragon Conquerer, Talonnb Silverain is here, hidden. Serrice, the Black Fox is here. Carihe Ihiem Isia Adesso, the Gilded Huntress is here. Rhine Aquila Taziyah Mulariad is here. Valingar is here. Duskywing butterflies flit lazily around the form of Chakrasul, Goddess of Corruption here. Hand of the Praadi, Aishia Celaeno, The Shrike is here. Siorva Veriona is here. Sir Stine D. Emerson is here.
    Benedicto Silverain is here. He wields the living trident, Riptide in his right hand. This area has been overgrown with a swathe of seething plantlife.
    You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).

    And then, Bamathis is there, tall and imperious, you held tight against Him by one encircling arm each. Waves of tension roll off of the Immortal, hazing the air immediately around Himself and you. He stops at the back of the aisle before casting a cold, impassive gaze around the room, quickly scanning through those present. "Stand!" He commands.
    Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. - Khalil Gibran
  • I am so excited to see the next part. This is so interesting!
    Aloli
  • everyone's all tense, trying to settle in as the wedding gets underway, but then...
    Aloli is here! DADADA!


    i about peed myself lol
    (Congregation): Iosyne says, "I made a cup."

    Horkval are a feature...
  • AloliAloli Between Books
    Thanks to the guys who caught the duplicate errors in the logs <3
    Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. - Khalil Gibran
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