“How in all The Fairelands are we supposed to protect something we can’t even LIFT!”
The two are stood in the chamber looking at, what is to them, a giant jewelled egg. “There’s a Collector out to steal them all or sommat, we’ve gotta be extra protective of it and stuff..” says the second. “Well lets hope they don’t come for this one while we’re on duty then, or there will be trouble!” replies the first.
Credits: Both avatars are wearing the same mesh petite body and clothes, just in different combinations of ear types, hands and optional parts.
The title says it all. One of the “Blogger Challenges” on the Fantasy Faire website is to take a picture of your avatar in the Fairelands alongside the Faire Emblem. A chance glimpse as I flew in front of the light of the Hunros Mines, made me stop and pause for a moment to put the logo in place and it was perfect!
From her vantage point above the city of Opet she watches the masses of tourists ebb and flow like a tide. They think the city is a relic, its occupants long deceased and the houses turned to shops for their perusal. They are so wrong, its facade. It was decided long ago to let it fall into disrepair and it’s people to fade into myth and legend, to protect all the races of this world.
There is a polite noise behind her and she turns to see her handmaiden stood in the doorway, holding up the old dumb phone used for emergencies.
She takes the phone and reads the message, once again wishing she could ward her home against the modern radio waves. Glancing at the tourists again, it’s their fault, there would be uproar if their brain-sapping devices didn’t function.
“I think we have another Collector, deal with it” along with the approximation of where the moving Sphere was last stationary.
Another Collector already? It was only a matter of two and a half decades since the last one and he’d almost been successful. It amused her how the relations team had dealt with it; making a movie about a Temple of Doom to pre-emptively dispel any rumors that may have surfaced.
The Spheres needed to remain in their allocated places, guarded in secret by each fae race or magical community.
The occupants of Opet had chosen the best way to hide them was in plain sigh but their history forgotten. Turning their city into a museum had been fairly easy, just don’t touch it for a few millenia.
Explorers and archeologists took the clues they’d left and made a reasonable story about what happened. Even if the time frames really didn’t work. Certainly others came closer to the truth, but were called conspiracy nuts, despite their theories matching the evidence better. The “experts” telling the story didn’t want to be embarrassed and make an entire history that had been taught in schools for decades to be wrong.
But enough dwelling on the past, they’d returned and closed the pyramids to the public for “safety reasons” and restored them to working order. Having left their Sphere hidden with local loyal followers it was returned to its place in the pyramid and protected there.
Somehow remnants of the truth had emerged again and she must take action. She’d been called on simply because she was the closest of the Guardians.
Down to one of the display cabinets she goes, removing her weapons stored in plain sight and replaces it with a photograph and sign preporting the item removed for cleaning. Next was some slightly more modern clothing, her regular clothes that the public assumed was simply a costume, wouldn’t be appropriate.
Modern being a relative term. If she walked down a western city street looking like this, attention would definitely come her way. Here in the desert country a wide hat and a mask against the dust wouldn’t draw a second glance.
Once she was changed, it was time to go on the hunt..
This continues a series of posts I wrote during last years Fantasy Faire, you may want to read the Collector and Oracle Overseer posts to catch up.
The Oracle returns to her chambers and retrieves a small metal box and heads to a room at the top of one of the nearby spires. Opening it she removes an old mobile phone and turns it on.
Of course she could have sent a physical messenger or conveyed her message by arcane means, but it was tiring and this was quicker. “No Service” the screen says. Unsurprised she touched a symbol on the wall that dropped the wards around the spire that blocked the pollution of radio waves that filled the air beyond the valley of Khol Dracys.
She sends her message as quickly as she can, being bombarded with all the modern electrical signals in the air makes her queasy.
The message simply reads “I think we have another Collector, deal with it” along with her approximation of where the moving Sphere was last stationary. Switching off the cursed device and returning to its box, she reactivates the wards and heads for her Chambers to have a bath, she feels dirty from the exposure.
A considerable distance away in the city of Opet there is a jingle and a buzz, the Handmaiden jumps with surprise. The technological relic high on the shelf has been silent for so long and is rarely good news. She takes it down, dusts it off and hurriedly leaves to convey the message to it’s intended recipent.
Last night I attended the Centaur Bazaar at Necrum Moon and to be honest it was the most beautiful and sedate roleplay I’ve seen in a long time. Usually to make a storyline or plot you have an antagonist of some kind, or situation that raises tension, suspence or excitement. This roleplay was totally different, there was no storyline, it was just a marketplace with people happily trading goods and wares in harmony.
[13:02:03] Ava Bloodrose Delaney (Ava Bloodrose): You know what folks? This has been the most beautifully sedate rp I’ve seen in a long time. Other places there’s always some kind of friction as part of a plot or not. Tonight this has just be lovely to watch.[13:02:30] Julala Demina: ((thanks Ava)) 🙂
[13:02:41] Brytestar (Bryte Starlight): ((Thank you Ava!! <3 hats one of my favorite parts about it))
[13:02:45] MiroAIIB: ((come visit us at AOC some time, ava))
I found this fantastic outfit by Fallen Gods at an outlet sale recently, its part of their “Rust” collection and feels very steampunk. But being one of those impulse purchases we all make sometimes, I really had no idea where or when I might actually wear it.
Then I saw a video Isabelle Cheren who paid a visit to “Timeless”, an installation by Cica Ghost. I decided that it would be an ideal location for a photo or three.
One of the coolest thing about this outfit is the hat, so I couldn’t not include a couple of close-ups.
There are some wacky and fun sights to be seen at Timeless, including a variety of furniture with some unusual animations in:
(Click the little expanding icon on the right-hand side that appears when you hover over the image to see the clip full screen.)
MARIE ROUILLE full avatar +Fallen Gods Inc.
Lipstick: Bad Pumpkin Lip (Halloween Collection 2020) – TREND
The Dryad wakes slowly like a flowers petals opening. When her eyes open she suddenly becomes aware of the temperature. It’s too cold, it’s too dark, she shouldn’t be awake yet. Being bound to the cycle of nature and the Seasons, she shouldn’t awake until Spring when the first green shoots appear. Something is wrong, she must find out what’s going on. Sticking her head out of the entrance to her underground sanctuary, she looks around to see white everywhere.
She finds some boots to protect her feet, usually she’d be barefoot but dare not walk on the freezing snow, frost is as dangerous to her as it is to plants. As she walks through the Human settlement she sees green grass poking through the snow, this is what’s woken her but how?
There’s no sign of industry that she’d heard of further south that made the climate warmer, just the usual primitive wooden homes. She visits a few of the buildings to see if there was anything amiss but found nothing unusual.
They have ships in the harbour so perhaps they have brought something here, or learnt of something that’s causing the problem.
Then she glances up and sees the temple up on the mountain, perhaps that has the answers.
She wishes she’d brought a cloak as she begins the ascent, touching the trees on the way up for reassurance, they are still slumbering as she should be.
Inside the temple she finds evidence of rituals and sacrifice, but these are not the usual practices of worshiping nature and beings such as herself, as could be found at the stones further down the mountain.
These were darker works, the fools had evidently heard of crops being raised artificially out of season to the South and thought this was how it was done.
With her bow she knock everything off the Altar in anger at their foolishness. Picking up a collection of scrolls featuring illustrations similar to the altar goods she glances at them in surprise. These are old, so very old but she recognised them. The fae races had worked hard to destroy all copies of this arcane knowledge, in order to preserve the balance of nature. She knows what she must do.
Waiting at the doorway of the temple, to get some warmth from their fires, she is impatient until dawn. She was going to need all the help from nature she could get for what she had in mind. As the sun rises she takes a bud from the vines encirling her body and places it into a shallow hole she was able to make in the frozen earth with the end of her bow. Standing back she raises her arms and chants quietly calling on the dormant natural world around her.
Directing the energy into the barely buried bud she encourages it to grow and expand until the building is encased in leaves, the shoots running up between the stones of the building like roots through foundations of a house and pries them apart.
It takes time and a lot of effort but eventually the roots demolish the building entirely into rubble. The shoots recede and combine into a single living thing…a blossoming tree. They wanted out-of-season plants, this is what they shall get.
Exhausted and barely able to stand she returns to the forest to hibernate until Spring actually comes.
When I had been told by Camilla Runo the builder of Vargsangen that it had returned I was excited and just had to go explore! I thought I would wear something warm and furry like my previous post. But once I collect this New Year’s special skin from Fallen Gods that completely changed, a Dryad post was in order. I had earlier been out for a walk (in the odd world of Real Life) and I saw daffodils sprouting, which doesn’t usually happen for another couple of months and that gave me an idea, to which I added a fantasy twist.
The build is expected to close at the end of January 2022 so get over and check it out. Here’s a few extra snaps that didn’t fit into the story:
After a spontaneous snap I posted on Flickr I thought another was in order, but this time with a friend, since we’d been planning to do something together for a while. One snap turned into several and then into a story.
I pace my room glancing frequently at the clock, where has she got to I wonder. I want to take our time to be relaxed, but the longer I must wait, the worse my thirst gets.
Will I be able to restrain myself when she arrives, long enough for her to feel relaxed. A little bit of adrenaline in the blood from excitement is good, but I’m not in the mood for the taste of fear tonight, if I rush, that’s what I’ll get.
When she does arrive she’s very giggly and flirty, almost throwing herself at me, not her usual self. She’s drunk. She knows why she’s come here, maybe she got nervous, I did advise her against drinking, but I guess a little alcohol is better than fear.
A few glass or two as we sit and get comfy, then my thirst gets the better of me. I stand to remove my coat and move in close in front of her, staring into her eyes before taking her hand and a small bite from her wrist.
I slip her off the couch to kneel in front of me and hold her in a tight embrace as I feed from her eagerly.
Sensing she’s getting weak, sagging in my arms, I lift her effortlessly to lie across my lap to few more sips from her chest
before I stop and raise her into an embrace, as she passes out.
Following up on my previous posts featuring my new Centaur avatar and the Centaur Parade, I’ve come to visit the Ancient Order of Centaurs (AOC) . Although today I visited as a different “Taur”from Jinx called the Felintaur, which has the body of a large feline instead of a horse and was kindly donated to the Blogger room.
You arrive at a large circular landing point with four exits leading in different directions.
I opted for the one located directly behind me because I saw something interesting in the distance.
There was an intruiging arch that seemed to be mad of some large creatures rib cage over the path.
The AOC grounds cover four regions styled in a High Fantasy medieval appearance. There are long winding woodland paths everywhere connecting all the various places.
Leading to some lovely places to see and explore. Some of which are available to rent, I only spotted the “Private Property” outside the first one on the way *out* however.
No fantasy location would be without an abandoned castle..
If you want a nice aerial view over the place, there’s a handy lift:
There’s even a market where you can shop for many things Centaur related that I may well be returning to soon.
As usual with my blogging photo trips it’s not usually good for SLT so no-one around, but they do have regular meetups, a timetable is located at the landig point. I think I’ll try and make it to one of those at some point in the near future.
Something is wrong with a Spheres. She doesn’t know where or what, but something is wrong. The shrine where she stands was built where the leylines from various parts of the Fae races converged. Most of them maintained a connection to the respective Spheres continuously, except the Mermaids obviously. Their airheaded builders putting the temple in the wrong place,but at least it was regularly connected enough to do its job. But something still felt wrong.
There were some that were only occasionally showing up, but from different lines, as if they were moving, perhaps one or more had been stolen. The Web of spheres and leylines must be maintained, or the Egg of Ostara will hatch. With no parent, the bleached bones of the last of its race outside of the Khol Dracus valley curled around it, who knows how it will react.
She must leave the tower for the first time in centuries and track down these spheres. They need to be restored to their rightful places, or if the place is no more, a new home and caretakers must be found. She can keep them all at the tower they need to be spread out, there are already too many here.