Ripples of black-and-purple fire alight in the Night, marking the drifting form of the Veiled God, a languid splotch of darkness against the late afternoon sun.
Glancing up at the Night sky, you murmur, "I've not seen Him before. Xenthos told me about Him though. Were you here when Mother Night called Him?"
Eliron nods his head affirmatively.
Voice soft, Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "For a moment, I feared she would disappear into the Wheel. Then she her strength proved the greater and from it she pulled forth the Veiled One, shrouded in bandages."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across your lips.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He asked if the gathered hordes of undead were threats to Mother Night, and when He learned they were at least nuisances if not threats, He joined our hunt and slayed hundreds."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "A fine blades He has, and astounding skill at using them, though I'd not recommend for asking for a closer look."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Eliron's lips.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He and the Queen seemed to get on quite well."
Eliron creases his brow in a frown.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He answered some questions, though not His name, and He asked many."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He used to work with the Fae in some way, and now seeks purpose in a world so changed."
You look thoughtful and say, "I wonder where He was pulled from, or how the Mother knew He was there or how to summon Him."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He asked to know more of all the cities and communes, who served in them."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He said He was pulled from the nothingness."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "He also asked after many divine, including Blooredia, Jadice and the Traitors."
Eliron tells you, "In truth, Celina took to him quickly because Mother Night pulled him from the Wheel. I am less certain."
You purse your lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as you carefully gather your thoughts.
Eliron tells you, "We do not know Mother Night's intentions in doing so- she vanished afterwards."
Eliron tells you, "He seemed to have little concern for who or what we are which makes me wonder if He has seen our like before or simply does not care, and much concern in Avechna's Peak and the like. He also remained ungreeted by any other divine. I've not seen such before."
You tell Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament, "We cannot hope to know, unless we are given guidance on it. Perhaps it would be worth asking the Silent Lord for assistance."
Eliron nods his head at you.
Eliron tells you, "A wise idea. We are so much more limited than He."
You tell Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament, "I'm not sure about that, but it's still a good idea."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Eliron's lips.
Eliron tells you, "I am. I realize from my children's perspective I must seem very old, but I'm certainly not *that* old."
You have emoted: Tacita's frown deepens and she shakes her head. "That's not what I meant," she murmurs under her breath.
Eliron smiles wryly at you.
You whisper, "He thinks mortals are undeveloped because we have emotion, and because we are driven by it. Maybe He's right, but our senses, thoughts and feeling are how we comprehend the world. Seeking to transcend that seems counterproductive to me. It will just leave us blinded to all there is."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Eliron's lips.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Ah, child. Your father may be able to admit that he needs to focus on serious things, but he'll never admit that he needs to be serious while doing so."
Sighing softly, you say, "That's what He said to me, anyway. I don't know. He wants my heart to freeze over - said it would be better. I don't...think He's right."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament pats your cheek softly and lets his hand fall.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "For some of us, perhaps it would be."
A wry smile spreads across Eliron's face.
Rivulets of twisting shadows drip down before pooling, dancing upwards in tongues of shadowy fire into the lithe figure of the Veiled God.
Naenia, an inquisitive shadow cat tells you, "God has entered from the ether."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "But you, my child, seem to be in control of your emotions, and to draw strength from them."
Eliron bows respectfully to God.
You look up at God curiously.
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Emotions are important."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "They are what drives change, despite impossible odds."
Eliron ponders the situation.
You have emoted: Tacita's frown settles slightly into a small smile, and she nods.
The Veiled God reaches out a hand to stroke the scaled head of the Ebonglom Wyrdling, just along the ridge of his eyebrow.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Words of wisdom, Veiled One, said when they are needed. My thanks."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says to God, "Did You find what You sought?"
Softly, The Veiled God says, "My apologies for eavesdropping. I was wandering the woods and overheard."
The Veiled God closes His eyes and shakes His head slightly.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament glances at you for a moment.
You murmur, "Oh, it's - it's fine, of course. I don't mind, really. I should stop going on about it, I suppose."
You have emoted: Tacita smiles softly, the expression not quite meeting her eyes.
Softly, The Veiled God says, "These dark woods grant me some small sense of comfort. It is enough to draw one into the desire to wander."
He is a radiant immortal and is of diminutive size, barely of the height of an adolescent elfen. Lithe in figure, what can be seen of His skin reveals a darker complexion of blackish hues, flecked occasionally with deeper shades of purple. Bandages conceal His upper arms and bind His torso, calves and thighs, as well obscuring the lower section of His face. Long locks of dark hair fall from behind another strip of cloth that is bound at the top of his forehead and along his hairline, pushing much of it back and out of His face, though a few strands hang down before His left eye, half-hiding one of His two clear, bright red eyes. Lengths of loose bandaging hang away from Him, rippling and swaying on the currents of shadowy, fire-like energy that swell and dissipate in rhythmic flows, caressing Him with each rise and fall of power. He is wearing bandages that obscure much of Him, a scabbard of white silk and a scabbard of black silk.
Eliron smiles softly.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "All here draw their strength from the Glomdoring and the Wyrd, and their comfort when needed."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Indeed. Do not think your Wyrd is without its emotion. Fear, hunger, desire, hope, hate, pleasure."
The Veiled God pats the Ebonglom Wyrdling gently and withdraws His hand.
Eliron nods his head at God.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says to you, "After all, child, you hear the Shadowbeat. It is hardly emotionless, no?"
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Full of terror and sorrow and pain."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says to you, "We shall leave that to the Loralaria of Hallifax."
You have emoted: Tacita shuffles her feet slightly and glances at the ground. "It is what makes the Wyrd stronger, I think," she replies quietly. "Sometimes that is misunderstood. There would be no loyalty to it if we did not feel all that it sings, deeply and truly."
Eliron nods his head at you.
The Veiled God dips His head once slightly in a nod.
You whisper, "Even if that's because we are underdeveloped, or because we have not reached our full potential...it's still true."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says to God, "Much was sacrificed to make the Glomdoring what it is. Blood feeds the Wyrd, ours and our enemies."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "If someone claims to be barren of emotion, they are also barren of truth."
You smile softly at God.
Eliron blinks incredulously at God.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament tilts his head to one side and considers the Veiled God through half closed golden eyes.
Softly, The Veiled God says, "No matter what pain has driven them to such a state, it is because the alternative is loathsome to them. Fear, terror, pain, sorrow, all too much for them to bear."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Instead they feign heartlessness, and rebuke any who embrace otherwise."
Tilting His head slightly as His gaze wanders upwards, The Veiled God says, "Not to speak of your... Silent One specifically. Merely to speak from my experience."
Eliron creases his brow in a frown.
You nod your head slowly in understanding.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Pardon if I presume too much, but you have offered wisdom here, and I wish to give something in return if a mortal is capable of doing such. You spoke of the Fae, and their Court still stands, even thrives under the guardianship of the communes. Might they offer something of what you sought?"
Softly, The Veiled God says, "I have seen the fae. They offer me little solace."
With a quick beat of your wings, you rise to circle slowly around the Wheel of the Goloths and study it curiously.
Dipping his head for a moment, Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "My apologies. I could think of nothing else to offer."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "The Maeve is torn between her loyalty to Moon and Night, wishing to return all of the spirits into a great and balanced cycle. Sun's influence is one that all should fear, for then Maeve shall be torn in more ways than two. She is defiled by a mark of foul corruption, a mark whose depths even my eyes cannot follow it to its point of origin."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Foul corruption?"
Eliron creases his brow in a frown.
Softly, The Veiled God says, "The only marvel is that the Faethorn is not soaked in the blood of an ugly and terrible civil war."
You have emoted: Tacita glances up at that and frowns in concern, one hand playing at the slaugh pendant around her neck.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Eliron's lips as he glances at you.
The Veiled God turns His bright, red eyes to you then Eliron before turning to the Wheel of the Goloths.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "A wonder, perhaps, but then I think neither power that fights for it wants that."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says to you, "Though it's no wonder that the Wyrdr has never saught to return to her influence."
Tilting her head, you murmur, "Mm."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Wyrdr?"
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament raises his hand to his own pendant with a frown.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Not all fae serve Faethorn."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "This I know."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Only the fae of the forests were bound into the Maeve."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Not all forest fae serve the Maeve."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "They do. They must. It is their nature."
Eliron tells you, "Regent, do you see any risk in my explaining this?"
You tell Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament, "I do not."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "After the Elder Wars, some were deemed... corrupt because of their Maker and how they were made. The slaugh, the barghests, the redcaps."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "You presume they were fae of the forests."
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament tilts his head curiously.
With a slight raise of the eyebrows, you perk up your ears and turn your attention towards God.
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "They are not?"
Softly, The Veiled God says, "I have not said this."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "I merely point out the flaw of your logic. It hinges on what is unproven presumption, am I correct?"
Softly, The Veiled God says, "Still - the redcap, slaugh and barghest have been taken in by Mother Night, have they not? Bound into Her as mother, maiden and crone into Moon?"
Lord Eliron Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "They have, and thus the basis for the assumption. They serve Mother Night and the Wyrd, and our Shadowdancers can call upon them."
Softly, The Veiled God says, "If they are bound into Mother Night, then they are a part of her. And thus, a part of this forest. And so, they are bound into Maeve."
You chew on your lip thoughtfully.
Comments
*snicker*
The divine voice of Avechna, the Avenger reverberates powerfully, "Congratulations, Morkarion, you are the Bringer of Death indeed."
You see Estarra the Eternal shout, "Morkarion is no more! Mourn the mortal! But welcome True Ascendant Karlach, of the Realm of Death!
You tell Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, The Ebon Strategist, "Sooner, rather than later, would be - that one is hugging Celina, oh gods."
Xenthos tells you, "I... what?"
NARF!