Difference between revisions of "Old Gods/Practices/Vernal Equinox"

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The introduction of Elios with free drinks and innuendo prompts Nerta to sniff and turn her glittering eyes back to Arsene. Perhaps the ale stained woman wasn't a fan of Soren's bawdy jokes, or the one introduced.
  
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"The 'honour of addressing'? Precious little of that by Patrician standards, but you can call me Nerta all the same."
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Once again resting in that hunched perch, the spear haft slips out to tap at the cane.
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"Now my question: What's the story to this?"
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The spear swings to point to Vivien.
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"The dull mind decided to be a blunt instrument the last time they loosened that sharp tongue?"
 
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Revision as of 07:15, 26 March 2022

FestivalofLight.jpg
Preparing (March 2022)
Request from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Personal message to Aibhlidhn Dubhaine
Your majesty,

The vernal equinox approaches on the 20th. The festival of light involves massive outdoor bonfires to push back the winter. These fires are colored by alchemical potions to create vibrant pools amidst the snow. Once revellers arrive they are expected to shed their winter furs and find comfort in the balance between the heat of the flame and the ice of the air.

All revellers dine, dance & duel as an expression of returning life. Often lovers will come together this time dressed and painted and matching colors.

As this is a celebration of spring, any and all are welcome; so would her majesty you care to host a tournament?
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Report from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine
Message sent to Personal message to Nerta Unti
Lady Nerta,

I believe a tournament could be just what all realms need to lighten their spirits after the catastrophes to befall the southlands. Ideally the festivities should fall either side of the equinox with a competition of blades for duellists of the highest calibre to demonstrate their skill.

I will provide prize purses of 1,000 gold to the victor and another 500 to the runner up to attract some worthy competitors.

Which city do you feel would be the best suited to such a celebration?
Aibhlidhn Dubhaine (Queen of Ar Agyr)
Letter from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Personal message to Aibhlidhn Dubhaine
That's most generous your majesty. Even the tournament grounds alone would have been enough, but to offer a prize as well... As for a location. We just finished repairing the temple in Agyr, thanks in no small part to your donation. Between that and the Eternal Flame seems a fine place for the festival.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Tournament Announced

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine, Queen of Ar Agyr, Royal of Ar Agyr, Duchess of Havilmark has announced a Tournament of Swordfighting to be held in Agyr 9 days from now.
The winner will be rewarded with 1000 gold in addition to the honour and prestige that his victory will earn him. There will also be a reward of 500 gold for the runner-up.
All nobles of the continent are welcome on the tournament grounds on the day of this event. Make sure you announce your participation in time.

Report from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine
Message sent to Message to everyone in Ar Agyr
To celebrate the upcoming Vernal Equinox, a day held sacred by followers of the Old Gods, I invite all knights honourable and true to compete in a Trial of Blades before the Eternal Flame in Agyr. Nobles, Priests, and Adventurers from across the Realms of Man are also invited to join the festivities in the city both to enjoy the spectacle and to share tales of valour from their respective homelands.
Aibhlidhn Dubhaine (Queen of Ar Agyr)
Tyler Thrice-Blessed
Report from Kane
Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods
Greetings,

my name is Kane younger brother of Tyler the adventurer. I have come to take my place with the old gods as my brother had hoped to one day join.

Most here will not know him. But he saved the vales from destruction and then he gave his life to save nothoi. If any of you can get me in contact with nerta unti Tyler had a letter he wished passed on to the priestess.
Kane (Adventurer)
Letter from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Message to everyone at the Festival of Lights
Tyler Thrice-Blessed is well known in these halls. His sacrifice no doubt saved Nothoi and bought us all time. Hopefully he rests, but if the Sunken Kingdom transformed him into a death knight we'll make sure he earns his rest.

You're welcome here as long as you wish to stay. Currently the Festival of Lights will begin in Agyr. You're welcome to join in.

Senex
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Report from Kane
Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods
Lady nerta unti, I do not think that will be a problem. I'm unsure if the events that transpired we're ever passed onto these halls but Tyler has in fact been turned into an undead. This was when he returned to the city to clear undead outside of the portal area. The portal seemed to give the undead purpose they saught to turn all those of creasur into undead to join them brothers and sisters in eternal in life. This was caused after some magical symbols were apparently corrupted upon the circle activation. It seemed Tyler or what was left of him was under the same influence. However in a moment of defiance Tyler subverted the will placed upon the masses of undead. In that moment he reached into a wound in his head and wrote the symbol for purity in blood. This caused a blinding light that wiped whatever curropted will was placed on the undead. This same light led to the wall that defends nothoi today. Moments after this Tyler's corpse threw itself into the light. His corpse seemed to evaporate into nothing. I truly believe Tyler overcame death turning the magic of the portal to his will with a single symbol. I think he saw no way that did not end with this power corrupting his mind and turning him into what he fought so hard to defeat. He chose to end his life with the the very barrier he brought into the world.
Kane (Adventurer)
Report from Kane
Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods
I wish to offer the shield of Tyler as a prize for the winner of the upcoming tournament. In exchange I ask a sermon be performed by both nerta unti and the preistess yao ling. Of the daishi. I want the exploits if my brother to not be forgotten. While I would like to keep such an item for myself I'm afraid that I being young could simply lose the item to some monster den. I know this is unusual but I hope it is acceptable.
Kane (Adventurer)
Letter from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods
So the Thrice-Blessed fool managed to slip the chains of the Crystal Maiden in the end. I'm glad. I didn't relish hunting him down, though we'd finally get that duel. As I told your brother once, I can't dispense blessings like an apothecary, but if you want me to say a few words about Tyler I can certainly do that. Come by the festival and we'll see what we can do.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Festival of Lights
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Festival of Lights. Agyr.

The Eternal Flame gutters in the winter wind. But the seasons turn and so a crowd gathered before the  ancient temple to the Old Gods of Beluaterra. The various people were here, not for a sermon or ritual, but to purchase paints and dyes for the Festival of Light.

Some couples had already begun to paint their faces in the bright colours while others paint each other, and at least one group of rowdy children had begun a playful brawl that left twenty as rainbows. Drink flowed freely and as Nerta steps from the old halls, she eyes a trio of bravos competing for the right to match colours with a blushing lass. 

This rare taste of home earned one of those fleeting smiles from the warrior-priestess, who purchased Incindia purple paint and made her way to the festival grounds.

Outside the city walls great fires roared, coloured by alchemy and melting circles in the snow. Already hundreds danced, feasted and laughed in defiance of winter's bite. Once the tournament hosted by Bob & Queen Aibhlidhn began there would be even more to see, but for now the city was bright with spring. 
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Festival of Lights. Agyr.

Nerta steals a chalice from the palace as she passes dancers bathed in the light of an emerald green frame. The violet painted woman only manages a taste of the ale before one of their number grabs an arm to swing her into the crowd.

Ale splashes everywhere as Nerta's thrown into a pirouette, but her angry bark is cut short by the familiar voice.

"Spilling the ale! Have you no shame Weaver?"

Glittering eyes widen, and Nerta grabs the man dressed in a patchwork of leather soaked in stale wine.

"Vedens! Where have you been you lush?"

The big grin remains as friendly as ever, even as he drapes atop Nerta.

"Why's about tss far from trouble 's I can, unlike a ssertain someone. How is it you've gotten in more danger since I found ya neked in the forest hunted by beasts? Noble, Priestess, Monster Slayer, Paramour, Judge..."

Shoving the drunk off with an eyeroll, she doesn't make it far before he pulls her back.

"No no, none of that. Furst man gits a dance! Th-There'ss ruless 'bout tha."

The smell was, unique. But despite his slurred words, the man was able to keep up and after a few bars Nerta was even smiling.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Soren Navaar
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
It had been some time since Soren had stepped foot in a tournament ground. He’d only been to one since his first win and that hadn’t gone so well. After that he took up trading in earnest and between that and caring for Seven Rivers he rarely left Ar Agyr these days, so he took full advantage of the tournament close to home.

The busy streets and smells of food and smoke filled the air. Colors adorned every surface driving back the bleak white of winter. Everywhere he looked, it was hard to tell which color dominated right down to the people. In the city, purple had become popular due to the Incindia Flame, but there was no want for competition. Soren paused to examine a bonfire burning green into the sky, already swarmed with revelry and children attempting to burn sticks for their own amusement. He held back a smile as he watched a mother pull a burning branch from her child’s hand before tossing it to the inferno as she dragged the boy away.

Stepping around a dancer, Soren slowly made his way over to a practice ground, clearly in a courtyard marked by a clearing, several men and women with menacing glares, and four almost equidistant bonfires burning in a myriad of colors. What would he challenge today? Signaling for one of the masters, he gets a few chuckles. A trader often seen with a lute, these were clearly locals who had no idea what they would soon witness. “Though I am hardly the best, allow me to be the first to teach you all what it means to be a master of the martial realm,” he boasts as one of the local academy masters comes to the makeshift arena.

The two men circle each other for a time as Soren draws a sword. His usual method to fighting was a weapon for every situation. Carrying knives, and a spear, and daggers, the man was a small armory in battle. Forced to use just a sword though, it was curious how he would fare. Growing impatient at Soren’s lack of movement, the master moved in. The dance with death is swift as the pair moved quickly, in a flurry of exchanged blows. Without the extra equipment, Soren was faster, sharper, his blade and movements more flexible as he snaked around defenses and drove the master back.

The pair, seeing they could push each other seemed to have the same idea, maintained the stalemate. They drew eyes and cheers from the surroundings as they weaved a complicated dance that could falter lesser skilled warriors.

A sudden push sent Soren back a few steps as the master regained his ground, and the young noble began circling. A wolf hunting its prey, he shifted his stance almost to a point of fencing, protecting his open side. Neither dared blink, but eyes shifted to watch the edge as they slowly moved towards the edge of the arena and that was all they needed.

Soren moved in first this time, a thrust became a feint as he shifted to a two-handed sweep, then, using the momentum to drop into a low kick sending the man stumbling back until he held up a hand as Soren started to charge forward. “Master swordsman,” the man declared. “It’s been an honor for my first spar of the tournament.”

Ever the performer, Soren reached out and clasped the man’s hand in friendship before taking a bow around the courtyard arena for those who watched his performance.
Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers)
Roleplay from Stebe
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
"Oh Look Quincy! Two men of honor having practice go." Stebe says as he fines an open spot on a rail dividing the commoners from the Gentry.

"Yes, Sir," Quincy drawls in his ever present monotone.

As they watch Stebe unconsciously begins to jerk and move as if he was defending against the sword master. Glance over his shoulder at the disinterested Quincy Stebe states, "He's good, Quincy. He's obviously from Arr Agryry. Do you know his name?"

"Ar Agyr, Sir." Quincy monotonous speech continues as Stebe opened his mouth to ask a Question. "I believe that Sir Soren of the House Navaar."

A large smile crosses Stebes face as he turns back to match. With disappointment crossing his Stebe's face. Stebe pouts, "Dammit I missed the end of the fight."

Turning to an elderly woman next him Stebe asks, "Pardon me, young maiden. Who pray tell won that bout?"

Guffawing at Stebe's remark she replied with a laugh in reply, "Sir Soren..." she eyes his fine dress and adds hesitantly, "My Lord?"

Waving a hand to dismissively, "None of that nonsense, but thank you my fair maiden." Taking her and and in a flurished bow Stebes kisses her knuckles which send her and her into cackling giggles that only the old can properly pull off.
Stebe (Adventurer)
Roleplay from Arsene Solicix
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
The journey to Agyr was drole and weary, consisting of several endless days of nonstop travel and the gradually depressing mood of her squire, whose usually sharp tongue and attentive gaze dulled significantly. When they finally arrived in the city, Arsene was more relieved to see the light return to Vivien's eyes than consider the chance of long-awaited rest.

Now, refreshed and rested a day later, the Baroness was able to fully admire the city for it's worth on the way to the tournament grounds. While she had traveled around most of the upper continent during her ventures through three different realms, she had never made it down to Ar Argyr, and she found herself in awe of cultural splendors she was unused to, with the vibrantly colored fires and mentions of a festival whispered through the crowds.

After a few hours of visiting the merchants and tasting some rare foods, Arsene decided she had tortured Vivien enough. Her squire was following along sullenly behind her, cheeks puffed out in barely restrained impatience while her brow furrowed, and she fidgeted with the twin knives strapped to her legs, a gift for her last birthday. Arsene chuckled, relenting as she motioned for her squire to lead the way to the grounds, feeling as though Vivien acted more like a spoiled little sister than a proper knight in training.

"Tsk, how arrogant!" Vivien looked down upon the men sparring below, wrinkling her nose in disgust as the victor turned to bow to the spectators. "Men think that waving around swords make them knights and expect to be praised for it. Well, the only sword they have that's worth a damn is the one in their-"

"Vivien!" Arsene chided sharply, unsure whether to laugh or cry. One day, that vulgar language of hers was going to anger the wrong noble and she'd end up dead! "Have some respect. It's rude to judge people you've never even met, much less group them together with the kind you are used to." Her squire bared her teeth, looking away, but thankfully listened and remained silent.

Leaning heavily on her cane, she sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. The Baroness had dressed in the usual furs of the north, with her bracers and shin guards and breastplate engraved with the flag symbol of Irondale in its center, so if any other nobles had heard Vivien's less then polite statement it would most definitely not represent their realm very well. Arsene glanced to either side of the pair, her gaze catching on a rather strangely dressed man kissing the knuckles of an elderly woman, and she watched them for a moment, mildly curious, before returning her attention to the arena.
Arsene Solicix (Baroness of Lezzel)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Festival of Lights. Agyr.

As the squire Vivien was hushed by Arsene, the woman painted purple perched atop her seat slips in a comment.

"She's not wrong you know. Though that particular man isn't too bad. Solid skills, but works better with guidance..." Nerta pauses as he takes his bow, "...like most of them, actually."

Spear across her knees, the ale stained cloak opens for a brief moment as she raises a hand to wave at the figure in the arena.

"You going to try yourself then?"
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Soren Navaar
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Soren turned and looked up at Nerta with a wide grin and gave an extra sweeping bow in her direction. As he went to collect the few belongings he had set aside, the next person, Elios Everlight, took to the stage after. Looking up at the crowd, he began to circle the arena, feigning gasps when the duke was pushed back and cheering his advances. His fingers twitched toward his back where his lute was not waiting for him at the moment.

As Elios' bout came to an end, Soren marched up into the arena again. "Duke Everlight, everybody!" He held up a small pouch of gold and walked a circle around the man he seemed to be sizing up as a rival. "In honor of the only other man with the guts to come up on stage today, I'm inviting everyone here for drinks! From my favorite nobles," he said, with a glance toward Nerta, to people I've never met before, all of you tell me your tales and come have a pint on me! Then, let's have a second pint in honor of the good Duke here. Compared to my pitiful skills, this is a man who knows what a joust is. He is by far my superior at firmly grasping a long pole and shoving it into another man!"

He flashed the Duke a grin before stepping away. "Third, let's toast our gracious hosts, The Duke Bob, and Queen Aibhlidhn. You can't ignore me forever, your majesty! Come greet your guests and subjects for a drink or four, alright?" he shouted into the crowds of visitors, before rounding on his heel to face the people behind him. "And one more drink for this great festival, and the beautiful people attending it. If I see at least three more nobles at the next bar I go to, I'll sing you all a song. And after five rounds, I promise I'll sound like a true musical muse!"
Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers)
Roleplay from Arsene Solicix
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
At the sound of an unfamiliar voice behind her, Arsene startled, twitching slightly as she turned around. Her gaze immediately focused on a cloaked woman sitting in the row above the railing, her skin painted a surprising violet as a spear rested on her knees. She blinked, wondering for the briefest moment if this was a common custom in Ar Argyr or whatever realm this lady was from, and her momentary pause caused Vivien to notice, her squire turning and openly gawking at the women. Her reaction assisted in returning sense to Arsene, and she lay her free hand heavily on Vivien's shoulder, nodding her head respectfully to the woman above. There was a strange aura about her that unnerved the Baroness, but she pushed the uneasy feeling down in favor of courtesy.

"Please forgive us, ma'am. Right or wrong she may be, but her mind is not as sharp as her tongue." Outraged, Vivien took a deep breath to retort, but at the fierce glare in Arsene's pale green eyes she shut her mouth reluctantly. Even if the unknown woman agreed with them, it was never a good idea to reveal too much of themselves, lest the stranger becomes an enemy.

Witnessing the lady wave to the men below, Arsene realized she must know them, and she felt a significant flash of relief that Vivien had not angered her. That could have ended very badly if she had gotten insulted, for at least one of the men was likely her realm-mate. When she spoke again, asking if Arsene would try as well, the Baroness chuckled, lifting her carved wooden cane a little for emphasis. "I'm afraid not. The past few days of traveling have rekindled some old wounds in my leg, and I can hardly walk with it right now. I'll save my strength for tournament day."

Their conversation then took a short break as the victor of the match they had originally been watching shouted to the spectators, calling for toasts to important nobles and offering drinks for all. Throughout the speech, Vivien crossed her arms, scowling and rolling her eyes so much that Arsene thought they might just roll out of her head, and she swallowed a sigh of exasperation at her squire. Once the man had finished, Arsene turned to glance back at the woman above, her curiosity getting the best of her wariness. "May I know whom I have the honor of addressing?"
Arsene Solicix (Baroness of Lezzel)
Roleplay from Bob Baceolus
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Festival of Lights. Agyr. You announce a large festival to be held tomorrow.
Bob Baceolus (Duke of Agyr)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Festival of Lights. Agyr.

The introduction of Elios with free drinks and innuendo prompts Nerta to sniff and turn her glittering eyes back to Arsene. Perhaps the ale stained woman wasn't a fan of Soren's bawdy jokes, or the one introduced.

"The 'honour of addressing'? Precious little of that by Patrician standards, but you can call me Nerta all the same."

Once again resting in that hunched perch, the spear haft slips out to tap at the cane.

"Now my question: What's the story to this?"

The spear swings to point to Vivien.

"The dull mind decided to be a blunt instrument the last time they loosened that sharp tongue?"
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Good Nobles and Loyal Commons,

I see the tournament grounds are buzzing with anticipation as storied banners from across the human realms rise proudly above the tents of our noble competitors. Three days remain before the heralds sound their trumpets and the Grand Melee begins. Three days in which to feast and practice and make great display of swordsmanship. Three days in which to renew the ties of friendship upon which our race depends to hold the darkness at bay.

This is the first time I've had the privilege of hosting a tournament and I extend my heartfelt thanks to Duke Bob for preparing these magnificant tournament grounds. Duke Bob is himself the very paragon of Chivalry, feared by humanities enemies for his wrath in battle and blessed by the Higher Powers as Guardian of the Eternal Flame of Agyr. All know his name and his legend.

I also extend my thanks to Lady Nerta, Priestess of the Old Gods, at whose request these festivities have been organised to celebrate the peculiar Vernal Equinox of the Gregorian Great Year. May this be a joyous occasion for all who worship the Old Gods and for those of all faiths who stand firm in the defence of mankind. Let us never forget that no matter how dark times may seem there are powers who strive for our survival.

We hold these festivities against the backdrop of war. The Necromancer of the Sunken Lands has swept all before him and many here gathered have suffered loss at his hands, whether that be to battle upon the fields of the South or to those secret battles fought in the shadows. Hope has been stretched thin and yet still it endures. Let us never lose sight of that hope.

It is my fervent prayer that when the time comes to defend the North the bonds of friendship created here before the Eternal Flame will outweigh all disputes which divide mankind as in previous ages our ancestors stood together against the Invasions which threatened their existence.
Aibhlidhn Dubhaine (Queen of Ar Agyr)
Roleplay from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine
Message sent to Everyone at the Festival of Lights
Aibhlidhn was in pensive mood, her desk strewn with scout reports smuggled at great risk from the heart of the Sunken Lands. Everywhere her spy passed the reckoning was the same: thousands upon thousands of the dead mustering at their Master's call, and alongside them regiments of fell things like unto men in only the broadest of outline.

The Queen was no stranger to fighting such things. Indeed she'd lead the charge so many times and against such overwhelming odds that she'd gained something of a reputation as a berserker though quite how this sat with the thoughtful, humorous, elegant woman who frequented libraries and teahouses was difficult to reconcile.

Whatever the Necromancer had planned he'd not want for strength. That was a certainty. From Creasur in the North to Cagamir in the utmost South his rule was unchallenged and what really cut to Aibhlidhn's heart were not the accounts of his strength but of the few isolated survivors who somehow clung on in spite of the many perils around them. The accounting of great cities fallen to decay where once the banners of humanity proudly flew. The knowledge that in truth the Dead Lands might be lost for all time.

Could such a fate also befall the Northern Realms? For now the gods had given them a reprieve though at what dreadful cost few others dared comprehend.

She thought a while longer, idly toying with her quill as if to capture her thoughts on parchment but in truth all that flowed were aimless doodles, geometric patterns oddly interspersed with rabbits and hares about the business of men...

"Oh damn it," she set the quill aside, "this is not the time to sit with your thoughts Aive. The Winter is past and Spring demands your attention."

She was just reaching to pull the velvet cord and summon her servants when Djieves entered the study with his presciently impeccable timing.

"You rang ma'am?" his stentorian voice always calmed her mood.

"Yes Djieves, have Lady Morag gather my Ladies-in-Waiting and set out suitable attire for this evening's festivities."

"Very good ma'am," the door closed with a whisper and Aibhlidhn turned her thoughts to the impending tournament, a chance to mingle with her subjects and enjoy their good humour.
Aibhlidhn Dubhaine (Queen of Ar Agyr)