Ishra's Colors

Beneath glimmering veins of amethyst.
The cavernous floor comes to an enclosed space here as it narrows towards a delicate veil of shadows. Dim light filters in from outside, barely piercing the shadows that cling to the cavern walls. Dark stones covers the walls, and the walls are lined with veins of shimmering amethyst. The violet gems wind along the walls in circuitous patterns, reflecting what little light there is in the area. Billowing like a cloth in a gentle breeze, a veil of shadows covers a wall of the cavern here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, and through a delicate veil of shadows.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "O-K O-K O-K."

You stare implacably at a vibrant garland of blue forget-me-nots.

You stare implacably at a delicate veil of shadows.

Pulses of divine energy radiate throughout the cavern, bathing the area in warmth.

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "What is it that catches your ambition these days, not so little one anymore?"

You tell Sikris, "....ah!"

You tell Sikris, "Gosh - do not ... know."

You tell Sikris, "Am still best at cookings ... is what am most passionate about."

You tell Sikris, "Am trying -very hard- to be less friend-shaped so can be a better Wyrden bug, too!"

Swirling magic energies seethe across the cavern floor.

You tell Sikris, "What else, what else... uh... gosh am on a spot!"

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "Ah, it's important to know who you want to be. How else can we support you? And if you don't know, we might support you the wrong way and you end up being someone you never wanted to be."

You blink.

You have emoted: Gurashi's shoulders sag as he stares at the veil.

You tell Sikris, "...gosh."

You tell Sikris, "Was very deep - and, kind of, to say... Know for sure, am wanting to be someone who keeps peoples fed. Keep peoples happy."

You tell Sikris, "Want to be kind, but is hard to be kind AND not be so friend-shaped."

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "Serving the Wyrd, serving glorious Crow and mostly aiming to please Mother Night, it's too challenging if you can't be yourself."

You reach out and gently brush your hand against a delicate veil of shadows. Your senses suddenly dull as you feel yourself pulled into the entrancing darkness. As your senses return, you find yourself beneath a beautiful night sky.
The Fulcrux of Nocht.
The image of a beautiful nighttime sky has been stretched across the fulcrux. Dim stars struggle futilely to compete with the terrifying beauty of Mother Night. The ethereal image wavers on occasion, the sky rippling like water in a pond. A lonely hill covered in tall grass leads up to a single shrine. Behind the shrine stands a large blackthorn tree. The tree is taller than most of its kind, extending upwards rather than outwards. Delicate blossoms shower down from its branches, creating a flurry of white petals and filling the air with the pungent scent of wyrden foliage. A complex series of stones orbit around a stygian orb here. A rippling image of a beautiful night sky has been magically wrapped around the fulcrux here. Partially hidden in the shadows, a formal pamphlet with a seven-pointed star has been lain aside here. In the shape of an open palm, a metallic sigil lies here. Raised in silent dominion over the surrounding area, a piceous standard has been erected here. A painting of Summoned Night has been thrown on the ground here.
You see a single exit leading through an image of the night sky.

Your mandibles twitch slightly as you voice a brief, curious chirr.

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "The Wyrd deserves the best you can be, not a caricature of you trying to be someone else."

Shyly, you say, "Uh... many, greetings."

You tell Sikris, "...are very nice persons, know that Miss Sikris? Am grateful."

You have emoted: Gurashi looks up timidly, waving both left hands, the smaller of the two holding a colorful lavender letter in its grasp. Draped across his other two arms is a long rope of blue and cream garland, carefully held up so that it does not drag on the floor. "Many apologies for bothering." Quickly he adds, "If am bothering."

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "No, I am a meddlesome person who is intrigued by you."

You tell Sikris, "...eh??"

You have emoted: Gurashi carefully twirls a bit of the garland idly. "Uh..." He starts, then stops, shuffling in his spot before holding up a string of forget-me-nots. "These flowers are supposed to be for peoples that have lost..." He trails off. "And, was thinking that, everybody has lost ... something, or someone, eventually."

Quietly, you say, "Even Gods."

Continuing to twirl the garland, you say, "...wanted to offer to - in case wanted to hang somewhere that is important to. For peoples that have lost. Like, Miss Lady Amberle, and, anyone else from long, long ago."

You have emoted: Gurashi looks down at the garland. "But, didn't want to just.... -drop- in -YOUR- place, because, then what if did not -like- or do not -want-," He looks about at the dark surroundings, "maybe are too blue for."

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "It's a privilege you consider my words as you do. I have no right to interfere with your steps. But Mother Night loves the unique and in Her service, so do I."

You tell Sikris, "....golly, Miss Sikris. Many thank yous."

You twiddle your thumbs.

The Drums of the Dead begin to thump, their pounding and erratic beats raising a black mist that hangs eerily over the Glomdoring Forest.

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "As my son used to say, What's the worst that can happen?"

You tell Sikris, "... ah, haha - and now Mister Snald is Commune Leader ... is not so bad, guess."

Carefully fitting as much garland as he can into the letter, you say, "So, uhm, was going to leave in a -letter-... so that, if decide would like to put up for self, are -welcome- to."

You stare implacably at a leaf of deep lavender stationery.

Holding up the letter and speaking in an excited whisper, you say, "Is Ishra's colors...!"

You have emoted: Gurashi smiles weakly.

Faintly buzzing, you whisper, "She really liked You, know. So much so that decided to leave the following of Lady or Roses, for... Mean, not LEAVE leave, obviously..."

You have emoted: Gurashi drags a hand down his head, leaving the letter at the edge of the shrine.

You drop a leaf of deep lavender stationery.

The cold voice of Sikris sends chills down your spine, "Chin up, little master of songs, creator of dishes. Shadows guide."

The boughs of the large blackthorn moan loudly as they shake, sending a new shower of petals cascading across the fulcrux.

You tell Sikris, "Many thank yous, Miss Sikris. Please do come around to say hello more often! We miss you."

Faintly buzzing, you whisper, "...maybe is weird gift."

You have emoted: Gurashi hesitates, keeping his hand hovering over the letter before drawing it back towards his chest and leaving the envelope be.

Faintly buzzing, you whisper, "But is for to decide."

You have emoted: Gurashi glances up towards the tree, clenching his hands into fists. "...is all. Have a day," He says, still whispering, offering a half bow as he backs towards the exit.

You stand before the wavering image of the night sky, your arms spread wide. In an instant, shadowy tendrils shoot out and wrap around as they forcibly drag you into the image. All fades to black before you are suddenly hurled into a dark cavern.

You have emoted: Gurashi heave a dramatic sigh, closing his eyes.

You think to yourself: Wanna go home.