Best Of

Table of Contents

1. "Groves of Three" and the Opening of the Festival
2. Quiz: Guilds in Moonhart's Grace (excerpts)
3. Nature Hunt of the Allied Tribes
4. Discussions: What is Seralem to You? By Nehvi
6. Wild Hunt Ritual of the Wodewoses
7. Lecture: Oraculum and Other Spirits
8. Discourse: Partaking in the Fruit
9. Vengeance Games: The Seren Civil War (advert)
10. Ritual: Raising of the Brambles and Closing of the Festival (pending)

1. "Groves of Three" and the Opening of the Festival

Playing Lief Myeras-Silvermoon's lecture, "Groves of Three," for cute novices. And someone makes their way home. Everyone joins in to give the festival proper opening ( Ctrl+F Discussion Time! ).

Thank you to everyone who could make it! You made this amazing.

I left my own typos in. People go with the flow and make a beautiful experience together.

Lisaera
As straight-backed and towering as the proud aspen tree - and nearly as pale as well - the Sacred Mother Lisaera manifests with a commanding presence, Her moonlit aura burgeoning with the menace and protectiveness of a thorny bramble patch, or a wolf with bloody teeth bared. Silver eyes circled by luminous limbal rings flash, their lunar starkness doing little to relieve the severity of Her other angular features: high cheekbones, thin lips, proud nose, a narrow face. By contrast, the Goddess's fingertips are soft and Her movements graceful, as though every step and gesture were born from ceremonial intention. Upon the backs of Her hands, leafy patterns like chainmail sleeves climb as far as the middle knuckles, viridescent colours suffused not with ink but vibrant and wild energy that bleeds into Her surroundings.

Ribbons of liquid moonlight tangle through Her night-black tresses, ravelling into two thin, parallel braids that draw back from Her left temple and join behind a slender ear. Kissed by the wind and sky, the rest piles unbound away from Her face and down Her back, wild and heavy.
She is wearing:
a vine-wreathed crown of frozen moonlight sitting poised upon Her brow, veiling Her features in a shroud of sterling luminescence
a fur-lined jerkin scrolled with silver moonlight, layered over a tunic that softly glimmers
a skirt spun from moonlit skies skimming the tops of Her bare feet
a belt of silver plates slung over Her hip
a heavy sterling torc ringing Her neck with snarling wolves at Her throat

You look at a vine-wreathed crown of frozen moonlight that Lisaera is wearing:
Radiant upon the Goddess's brow, this crown of cold moonlight musters itself into needle-sharp diffractions of lunar energy. Each pinpoint of light glints like a collection of spectral crystals, shedding pale luminescence that shrouds all below it in a stark veil of glittering silver. Ethereal vines climb about its many fractal spokes, thick and green, their verdant leaves rustling whenever whispered to by the wind.

You look at a fur-lined jerkin scrolled with silver moonlight that Lisaera is wearing:
Sculpted from a protective black material and layered over a tunic woven from silver ferns, this jerkin envelops the Goddess's form with surprising fluidity, swathing Her torso and upper legs with inscrutable midnight skies. Moonlight scrolls along either side underneath the arms, exquisite in its detailing: sterling lines follow the contours of glossy leaves that shift whenever She moves. Upon the shoulders, thick tufts of grey fur rise like hackles to ward against the cold - or impending threats.

You look at a skirt spun from moonlit skies that Lisaera is wearing:
Impossibly and bewitchingly fluid, this ankle-length skirt comprises nothing less than the midnight skies themselves, patterned as though the heavens have been drawn down to flow effortlessly about the Goddess's limbs. Far from pitch in darkness, thousands of stars glow upon its black ripples like gemstones, casting minuscule haloes of iridescence about themselves. Piercing shafts of moonlight likewise pleat its expanse, revealed in the ethereal winds which often tug against its hem, independent of any physical influence.

You look at a belt of silver plates that Lisaera is wearing:
Threads of glimmering moonlight bind together this silver belt, the insubstantial but cold links forged to rest behind each gossamer-thin plate. Subtle engravings etch into the surfaces of the discs, the enchanting scenes playing out through them constantly shifting, leading the eye with a sense of almost-familiar nostalgia that loses meaning whenever it changes. Sitting loosely about the waist and hips of the Goddess, it clinks lightly with Her every step, filling the air with a chime not unlike a delicate bell.

You look at a heavy sterling torc that Lisaera is wearing:
Braided from cords of heavy sterling silver, this pale torc gleams with an enchanting glow all its own. Its surface radiates preternatural coolness, rimed between metallic folds with a veneer of frozen moonlight that frosts and fades with the turning of the sun. At either of its open ends, a pair of snarling wolf heads bristle with ferocious protectiveness, challenging one another over the hollow of the throat.

---

Maylea
She is a radiant immortal and glows with effulgent life, a powerful sense of vibrancy emanating from Her presence. There is something thoughtful and introspective about Her expression and Her brilliant golden eyes, as though She gazes farther into the soul, brushing aside the impermanent layers of existence to seek the truth within. Streaks of deep blue wind through Her chestnut hair as it falls straight down Her back to the hips, several shorter locks dangling forward to frame Her heart-shaped face. A thin line crosses the skin of Her left forearm, the only remnant of the scar from a savage bite. An aura of power plays about Her slender frame and sets Her tawny skin aglow in faint, prismatic hues.

She is wearing:
a woven sari edged in prismatic embroidery draped upon Her radiant form
a trailing rainbow sash tied loosely about Her waist
an armband of twining vines wrapped about the upper arm in a vibrant network
a sky-hued bluebell tucked in Her chestnut tresses
a translucent crystal bindi gleaming with prismatic colour between Her brows
an anklet hung with crystal chimes lightly resting against Her bare foot

You look at a woven sari edged in prismatic embroidery that Maylea is wearing:
Woven of ethereal gossamer thread, the fabric comprising this sari is as light as air, almost floating over the body below. Wrapped neatly around the waist, it falls gracefully to the wearer's ankles in generous folds of downy softness. Drawn from the waist around the back and chest, the decorated tail of the garment is folded at the left shoulder and allowed to dangle down the back, leaving the right shoulder and both arms completely bare. The elaborate embroidery along the trailing hem of the sari is vaguely metallic in nature, refracting the light in prismatic shades of colour.

You look at a trailing rainbow sash that Maylea is wearing:
As the rainbows formed in the sky are composed of arcing motes of various hues of prismatic light, so is this sash, formed by some divine hand. Seemingly plucked from the sky itself, the sash extends far beyond the form it encircles, leaving faint remnants of light to shine where it is has trailed.

You look at an armband of twining vines that Maylea is wearing:
A network of thin vines wraps around the bearer's upper arm, clinging like a second skin. As vibrant and fresh as though still planted in the earth, the vines form a beautiful filigree knot centred across the tricep. Light faintly glistens across the greenery, cast from several tiny flowers blossoming along the edges of the living braid.

You look at a translucent crystal bindi that Maylea is wearing:
Barely the size of a seed, this small crystal shard is a faceted oval flattened along one side. Its pristine depths are almost perfectly clear, though a slight milky light glimmers within the depths, drawing attention more to what is around the actual bindi than to the bindi itself. Worn between the brows, it refracts the faintest light in a subtle display of prismatic colour that dances across the forehead of the wearer in enigmatic patterns.