Restricted Access: Visiting Mysrai's Realm

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "Do you feel like that journey, or are you busy?"

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Ah ... into Their ...?"

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "M-mean, if think is O-K ... should probably go touch chessboard first."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi smiles and says, "Go ahead."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Well, no, think am O-K ..."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Just do not want to suddenly spit or do something disrespectful and have no power over."

Your eyes raise to the heavens as a look of hope flashes across your face.

LOOK TSAKALI
One might think the person before you to be a loboshigaru upon first glance. Pointed, tufted ears stand atop a fox-like head, all covered in a glorious pelt of flaxen fur peppered with the occasional spot of brown or black. Resembling a golden jackal, they are a bouncing furrikin demigod. Soft, brown eyes ponder the world before them inquisitively, with a twitching black nose almost constantly scenting at the air. They stands bare-chested and free, apparently unafraid of judgement at their lack of modesty. A scarlet hieroglyph rests in the centre of their forehead, flickering with occasional tongues of lightning to show the highfavour of Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales.
Their hair is cut moderately short and sticks outward in every direction, artfully spiked. Golden-blonde in hue at the roots, the colour of their hair fades to an almost iridescent, fetching ivory at the tips.

Gesturing for them to wait, you say to Tsakali, "Will be ... -right- back."

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Good news! ... have already touched the chessboard."

You slump down dejectedly.

You begin to follow Tsakali.

Tsakali's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Tsakali searches the air in front of them, then tugs upon an invisible strand of force.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "To Vortex for a second, then onwards."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi to before the Eternal Flame.

Before the Eternal Flame.
A distant, regular thudding noise, like a heartbeat, is all that can be heard, and felt, amidst the surreal splendour of this spherical chamber. Flickering against the ceiling of the chamber, swaying gently to some unknown rhythm, the argent, powerful force of the Eternal Flame burns radiantly here. The entirety of the form of this chamber is only visible by virtue of the Eternal Flame, its random colour glowing brilliantly and swathing the walls with mutable, fantastic and random colour. Forever it seems the colours swirl and change along the walls, floor and round ceiling, mimicking some bizarre rainbow, disguising the actual colour and form of the chamber. To the touch, the walls are disturbingly leathery, feeling like a soft springy flesh, the floor malleable under the weight of feet. The size of this chamber is incomprehensible, for further to being gigantic in size, it appears to shift and squirm imperceptibly, as though it has expanded or contracted, or the very ground shifted, without ever having moved or shifted at all. A gaping valve pulsates softly in one wall, leading further into the Plane of Vortex. Bloody petals and melting faces flash within a misshapen glass vessel of chambers and changes. The Eternal Flame burns here, a towering inferno of white flame that flashes with a chaotic spray of colour. There are 10 Red Hands of the Illuminati here. There are 15 jade-armoured Wyvern Riders here.
You see a single exit leading in.
Room #19526

Eyes wide as he looks skyward, you say, "No ..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "For another journey, maybe."

Ascending a fluttering spiral of veils.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Claustrophobic and smelling heavily of burnt resins, this spiraling ascent is tiled in ivory and copper. From above, the sound of laughter, the sound of whispers, the sound of cries of joy and passion echo out, murmuring down through the stone. To either side, lengths of gossamer indigo and copper play, rustling against each other in a play of murmurs: the air is hot and thick with presence, the walls shining with inlay of coppery energies. Oilslick patterns ripple across the silken folds of this veil as it flutters between two paradigms. A green parakeet scratches against the ground in his search for a quick meal. Its ears raised, a playful desert fennec fox sits here, surveying the area around it. Leaping about after its shadow, a curious young kitten playfully wanders about here.
You see exits leading up and through a fluttering veil.

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

The veil flutters outwards into a skein of copper and crimson energies, obscuring Xis from view.

Whispering loudly, you say, "Oh gosh..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "And here we are, inside Their realm."

Xis looks about themself suspiciously.

Tsakali nods their head at Xis.

Words carrying a heavy Zoaka influence, Marquis Xis says, "Uh."

Xis leaves to the up, emanating an aura of immense power.

Tsakali shrugs helplessly.

Whispering loudly still, you say, "Is ... colorful."

Tsakali nods their head at you.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Let's see here."

Staying close to Tsakali, you say, "Is really big..."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "What is with buildings?"

Tsakali ponders the situation.

You boggle at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "Buildings from the sky. Because why not?"

Tsakali grins mischievously at you.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi has lost you.

Tsakali begins to follow you.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Go ahead and look around for a bit."

An antechamber shadowed in sliding screens.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Shining squares of polished copper line the eastern wall of this rounded antechamber, their surfaces engraved with myriad labyrinthine patterns and chaotic whorls of crimson-enameled Divine script. Further squares, their surfaces depicting dozens of races known and unknown are embedded in the polished stone walls, gleaming in the light of manifold braziers casting off plumes of resin-scented smoke. Overhead, the ceiling gives way to a mercurial, shifting vista of strange, silvery constellations moving through a sky of deepest indigo. A pair of broad coppery doors rests here, panels emblazoned with devices of a trey of keys.
You see a single exit leading north

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "Unless you just want me to pick out some places to go to?"

You have emoted: Gurashi's mandibles click against his face, then peers around a corner, afraid to move too far from the other two with him.

You have emoted: Gurashi rests his hands on the door, then looks back at Tsakali for permission, confused.

Tsakali ponders the situation.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission
Tsakali beckons you to them.

You blush furiously.

You begin to follow Tsakali.

You nod your head emphatically.

Tsakali caresses a pair of broad copper doors gently.

Tsakali puts their hands on their hips and goes "Hmmm!"

(Trasto): You say, "*stare*."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Oh, right. That's the west end."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi south to an antechamber at the descent.

Tsakali caresses a pair of broad copper doors gently.

You tilt your head curiously.

You stare implacably about yourself.

You stare implacably at a pair of broad copper doors.

Harmony echoes in your mind as you sing to Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi, "Ah! You disappeared!!"

Tsakali tells you, "Teleport to me."

Faintly buzzing, you say to Xenthos, "In we go."

A cliffside pavilion over a roiling abyss.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Ivory, copper, pillars, twisting ribbons of molten material rise on the outermost edge of this walkway along the sheer side of the cliff. At the centre of this wide, crimson-paved walkway, a great dias of copper rises, stamped with fell, strange symbols. Braziers hang from above, descending from amidst a panoply of many coloured tapestries depicting the innumerable forms of the Thousandfold. A low, rounded dias of copper and ivory rests at the centre of the floor, surrounded by radiating patterns of enameled gold and indigo tiles: above, a tripod dangles on tarnished chains, disgorging clouds of resin-scented smoke. Spangled with eccentric loops of indigo, emerald and copper, a rough collection of abstract feathers adorns an otherwise blank painting. Streaked in kaleidoscopic paint, a statue of Ashtariel of a Thousand Hues stands here.
You see exits leading west and up.
You begin to follow Tsakali.

Tsakali's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Windchimes echo in your ears, singing together in soft minor notes.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Their Gallery of Paintings."

Whispering, this time actually softly, you say, "Oh gosh..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "And some statues here and there."

Xis enters from the west, emanating an aura of immense power.

Xis creases their brow in a frown.

"Shh!" Tsakali says to Xis, putting a finger to their lips.

You look about in confusion.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi west to a wide gallery of indigo and ivory.

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of The Urchin in Ivory Surrounded by Pastries.

LOOK PAINTING
Sitting in the centre of this painting is the Lady-and-Lord's form of the Urchin in Ivory. Surrounding the small Divine are hundreds upon hundreds of pastries. The most predominately of these pastries are cup cakes. Some of the cup cakes are well known cup cakes created by mortal hands, others are more exotic, and seem to break some of the more minor laws of space and time in order to exist. Other dainty treats are strewn among the cup cakes, ranging from dainty ladyfingers to larger donuts and tarts. The various pastries are carefully stacked onto ivory platters, all within reach of the Urchin in Ivory. A small block of ice stands off to the side, with small bowls and cups of ice cream sunk into the freezing cube, to keep the ice cream from melting. A small ivory spoon can be seen resting on top of the block of ice next to the bowls of ice cream for easy eating. The small Urchin in Ivory has a large smile upon Her face she holds onto her next cup cake victim. The remains of many other such treats are strewn around Her feet. Golden script underneath the painting proclaims for all to see, "Creation of treats is a wonderful duty to perform!

You blink a few times and stare at Tsakali in confusion.

You tilt your head curiously at Xis.

Tsakali tilts their head and listens intently to you.

Marquis Xis says something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

Tsakali winks conspiratorially at Xis.

Reaching out to barely hover his hand over the painting, you say, "...this painting looks delicious."

Xis frowns at Tsakali.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

You tilt your head curiously at Xenthos.

You tilt your head curiously at Xis.

You tilt your head curiously at Tsakali.

Beads of sweat break out on your face.

Tsakali gives a little laugh, nodding their head.

Marquis Xis says something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

Looking increasingly nervous, you ask, "What is going on?"

You see the following people here:
Xis, Tsakali, Zakkias, Xenthos, Gurashi.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "It's an art gallery."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "You're fine. What do you think of the paintings?"

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Ah. We are in the Temple itself, not the Realm."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Interesting."

You have emoted: Gurashi attempts to mimic the language, but only manages a cough.

You boggle at Xenthos.

Marquis Xis says something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

Xis glares about themself, upset with the world.

Tsakali pats Xis in a friendly manner.

Xis shakes their head at Tsakali.

Xis leaves to the east, emanating an aura of immense power.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says something unintelligible in a feisty string of squeaks.

Tsakali's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "The none of us are not here."

Xenthos nods his head at himself.

Quickly looking at the furrikin, you exclaim to Tsakali, "Their -Temple-??!"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says something unintelligible in a feisty string of squeaks.

Zakkias nods his head at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "Simply an art gallery to you, nothing more."

Whispering, loudly, you say to Tsakali, "W-wait, are ... uh..."

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

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi west to a terraced gathering place along the cliff.
LOOK PAINTING
This large painting depicts a raucous gathering of the many varied followers of the Lady-and-Lord Mysrai. The ship sails upon a sea of shifting purple sands, no distinguishable features save for the burning red and orange sun high above the ship. The large wooden hulled ship is based on some ancient design, bearing three tall square sails, with a smaller triangular sail in the back of the boat. The deck of the boat is split into two major sections, one with two of the large sails, and a third higher platform, with the last sail. The ship itself has been gilded in gold leaf and gems, creating intricate, labyrinthine patterns that cover the entire hull of the massive ship. Dozens of followers of Mysrai line the deck of the ship, playing, dancing, and sparring among one another. The followers are as varied as their activities are, ranging from dark blue and red dracnari, smoke pouring from their nostrils as they spar each other, to faelings and furrikins talking and dancing with each other. Several artists sit up at the front of the ship, passing sketches between each other, while one small dracnari artist paints the endless waves of purple sands that they are floating on. In place of a wooden figurehead, a female dracnari has been secured safely to the prow of the ship, pointing out the most interesting way to travel through the desert of purple sands. A small pink-robed lucidian stands at the prow of the ship, feeding cup cakes to the dracnari, looking at her with concern in her silver eyes. A massive throne of twisting sands and changing paradigms rises from the highest deck of the ship, upon which the Lord-and-Lady Mysrai is seated. Their form is in between known forms, twisting and turning, flashes of the known and unknown seen deep within. A faint smile plays upon Their features, clearly pleased with Their followers.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi north to amidst shelves of battered copper and ivory.
LOOK PAINTING
Cerulean kouseki flowers have been painted in thick rows to frame this painting, the fine fibres of the brush creating a fluid texture in every pale petal. Within the floral border, a dark miasma of slate grey smoke chokes the sky, nacreous stars hanging in the smog as resolute baubles, the pale colour striking a chord and complementing the cerulean edges. Beneath the sky is a vast desert of indigo powder, divided in one corner by an river of ink and an outcropping of azure crystals. In the centre of the image is a bizarre tree; though it has the tell-tale shape of a typical and picturesque camphor laurel, the slender trunk is a midnight black and the leaves are shocks of blue, indigo and violet, powdered with white.

Tsakali ponders the situation.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi northwest to within a passage obscured by veils and stone.
LOOK PAINTING
A field of subtly different hues cascades across the stone, scarlet and sanguine and darker maroon unfolding within a vast, bloody kantharos cup of copper. Whispers of energy rise between the fittings of the tiny tiles: coppery and dim, they evaporate as soon as they rise. Skeins of metallic tiles spiral out from the edges, vanishing into slender bits of broken shards at their very edges.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi west to beneath shifting mantras.
LOOK PAINTING
Mercurial paradigms manifest into chaotic images, their fleeting figures dissipating into the aether as quickly as they came. Volatile silhouettes of ephemeral entities coalesce from beyond the cosmic fold, rendered in haunting staccato. The Gentleman casts a sidelong glance, tipping his hat languidly to the onlooker - likewise, an Empress in pristine vestment mirrors His presence with unearthly poise. Multifarious hands splay forth in reverent embrace, heralding a myriad of Their forms whose likeness are obscured amidst a Void-black nebula. Beyond dead space, the couple beckons hither with the ebb and flow of reality.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I was hoping the Liar was in the gallery."

Tsakali ponders the situation.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Are all so big and beautiful ...."

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of a bright red poppy.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi south to a veil-wreathed Throne of the Infinite Aspect.
LOOK POPPY??
Silken petals of brilliant scarlet ring the dark, bell-shaped interior of this blossom. Beneath the flower, the ordinary pale, furred green of the stem bears astonishing touches of copper - against this, the plant itself seems to be verdigris as often as it does living flesh. A few small leaflets of open beneath, the remnants of the poppy's incubation.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi southwest to a breezy veranda of flickering veils.
LOOK PAINTING
Painted in flourishing oil strokes, this oversized painting depicts two elders, sitting back to back on a large tiled floor. The first, a well-built, ruddy-faced Kalikai, grins ear to ear as She turns up a bottle, Her other hand sketching some past exploit in the air. Leaning against Her is a softly blurred form, the ever-shifting elder Mysrai. A quizzical grin graces Mysrai's lips as an upturned ear listens to stories of days gone by and battles well-fought. Off to the side, a large sandstone hookah emits a haze of purple smoke. Surrounding the pair is a plethora of bottles of all shapes and sizes; very few have contents, having been drained by the ongoing revelry.
You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi up to along a narrow voidcopper bridge.

Tsakali ponders the situation.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi east to passing a maddened mouth.
LOOK PAINTING
A gorgeous sunrise crests over the peak of Mount Zoaka, streaks of bold colour playing across the glinting, crystalline surface that stoppers its expansive opening. Craggy, volcanic rock and boiling lava smolder beneath its transparent surface, perhaps on the very brink of an explosion. Despite this hint of danger, a hazy Figure stands upon the fiery gemstone in its exact centre, the graceful repose of Their stance evocative of ease and unconcern. The true identity of the Figure, whether Man or Woman, Adult or Child, is unknown, though clearly humanoid in Their shape. Their form is as hazy as a cloud of smoke, the edges blurred, yet distinctive. The one, truly discernable feature upon this Person is the upward curve of Their lips, a smile of pleased expectation, while Their hands are poised above Their head in an open embrace. Their fingers are splayed wide in welcome, as thousands of brilliantly coloured flower petals fall in a soft, crimson rain over the Figure standing upon the volatile Mount Zoaka.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi east to beneath a jellyfish pavilion.
LOOK PAINTING
At first glance, this colossal painting appears to simply be a massive collection of small spots, varying in colour, swirling about the canvas in a rather chaotic fashion. However, as your eyes begin to adjust, the spots and colours start to blend together; the newly recognizable, complex shapes converging into the stunning, though somewhat odd image of a wedding. Set in a traditional cathedral, many rows of pews are filled with guests. The guest's faces are un-rendered, though one might guess that they are enjoying the occasion as several pairs seem to be holding hands. Following the general direction of the spectator's attention, the aisle down the center of the pews is littered with copper coloured flecks, likely to be flower petals of some strange nature. The aisle terminates at three small steps, comprised of grey flagstones, which lead up to a small landing with a simple altar. Before this altar stands a single figure, undoubtedly masculine in appearance. This figure radiates a copper shine, his stature and posture bespeaking great strength and power. Though this figure's back is turned, the angle is such that his arm, outstretched, is quite visible, reaching forward as if to take another's hand. The entire far wall of the cathedral is covered in large mirrors, their seams expertly fitted together though still somewhat visible. The image depicted in the mirror's reflection is startling in its dissimilarity. In place of the simple cathedral there is a massive great-hall, with coppery flames reaching from the floor to the ceiling. The pews and guests are instead several large tables, each one heaping with delightful pastries, cupcakes and cookies in such supply that some are actively spilling off onto the floor; an inundation of frosted, baked goods. Front and center, before a quaint altar, is a figure of resplendent beauty: a distinctly beautiful woman, her skin radiating a coppery shine. Her dress is cast in copper, draping her body, and managing to accentuate an almost impossible perfection of the female form. The figure wears a veil that matches her dress, though her eyes shine effortlessly through, and the general shape of them suggests an expression of immense joy. In one hand she holds a beautiful bouquet of brilliant copper poppies, while the other hand is outstretched, the perspective creating the effect that it is reaching through the mirror, very nearly joining with that of her counterpart.

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of Their Special Day.

Face lighting up, you say, "So many poppies ..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "It is Their special flower."

Tilting his head at the painting, you say, "...this painting is very ... pretty too..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "It intoxicates the mind, freeing it from the paradigms of what is into what can be."

You tilt your head curiously at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "The poppy, I mean."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi northeast to a candle-lined balcony.
LOOK PAINTING
Sultry hues of gold, scarlet, mauve and vivid lavender unfurl in large, desert blooming poppies and kouseki blossoms, these delicate cup-shaped flowers a skilfully painted backdrop to the figures who lie in repose within their velvet petals. Head tipped back to gaze at an unseen sky, Lady Maylea reclines against the shoulder of a dapper Gentleman, and His long-fingered hand is entwined with Hers as He looks at Her alone. The paint around His figure is oddly distorted by an aura that wavers and blurrs the picturesque background, twisting it into half-formed skeins of smoke and near translucent, shimmering streamers. A good-natured smile curves the Gentleman's lips as He looks at the Lady fair, and She is the very essence of Serenity, the brilliant gold of Her eyes captured in startling, striking contrast even within the frame of other vivid hues. Elegant script is painted upon the bottom of the artwork, forming the words, "And Something Blossomed: A Courtship".

Curiously, you say to Tsakali, "...ah..."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Oh - this one..."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Wait saw this one."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Still like this one."

You chirp happily.

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "The Crooked Gentleman is one of Their aspects, of course."

Suddenly, you ask Tsakali, "Are paintings telling story that am not taking enough time to look at?"

You peer at Tsakali unscrupulously.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "The paintings aren't in any specific order if that's what you mean."

Looking back up at the painting, you say, "Crooked Gentleman ..."

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to Tsakali something unintelligible in a flowing and fiery rhythm.

Showing that you understand, you nod your head slowly towards Tsakali.

Tsakali nods their head at Zakkias.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to you, "You like it?"

You have emoted: Gurashi nods, still looking up. "Like all of paintings, for different things."

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Like colors of this one."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi west to passing a maddened mouth.
LOOK PAINTING
A gorgeous sunrise crests over the peak of Mount Zoaka, streaks of bold colour playing across the glinting, crystalline surface that stoppers its expansive opening. Craggy, volcanic rock and boiling lava smolder beneath its transparent surface, perhaps on the very brink of an explosion. Despite this hint of danger, a hazy Figure stands upon the fiery gemstone in its exact centre, the graceful repose of Their stance evocative of ease and unconcern. The true identity of the Figure, whether Man or Woman, Adult or Child, is unknown, though clearly humanoid in Their shape. Their form is as hazy as a cloud of smoke, the edges blurred, yet distinctive. The one, truly discernable feature upon this Person is the upward curve of Their lips, a smile of pleased expectation, while Their hands are poised above Their head in an open embrace. Their fingers are splayed wide in welcome, as thousands of brilliantly coloured flower petals fall in a soft, crimson rain over the Figure standing upon the volatile Mount Zoaka.

Tsakali ponders a painting of The Chaotic Summit of Mount Zoaka for a moment and says "Hrm..."

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 23rd of Shanthin, 546 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 24 days until the New Moon

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Let me know when you're done pondering it."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "This one is mad."

You nod your head emphatically.

Tsakali nods their head at you.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi north to an alcove of ashes and ebony.
LOOK PAINTING
From edge to edge, this grayscale painting is focussed on an unusual mouth. The lips are set into a broad grin, broader than any mortal mouth would seem capable of, yet that is not the most disturbing feature. Barely contained by a set of thin lips, colourless in hue, row upon row of razor-edged teeth gleam brightly, their white startlingly stark against the faded grey surroundings. A dark void is seen between the triangular teeth, vivid against the almost pearlescent white.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Disturbing and simple, but not as simple as one might think."

You have emoted: Gurashi squints up at the painting, then attempts to do his own smile, but the attempt at matching the grin is futile.

Rubbing the corner of his beak, you ask, "Is not?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Or is it?"

Tsakali's eyes sparkle with amusement.

You boggle at Tsakali.

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim to a painting of Divine Glee, "Do not get you!"

Faintly buzzing, you say to a painting of Divine Glee, "But will think about, promise."

You nod your head sagely.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "The Thousandfold and the city at large believe that Truth is subjective to each of us. This painting is as simple or profound as one wants it to be."

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Is making want to smile back but cannot grin like -that-."

You click your mandibles together energetically, chittering to yourself.

LOOK MOSAIC
Unsettlingly flawless tiles sit once against another in this swirling, spiralform mosaic: amongst the arms of the chaotic piece, onyx stars emerge. At the heart of each, a pinprick of purest diamond rises, illuminated into rainbow gleamings by the lamps of the chamber. Delicate lines of copper weave their way through the hairline joints between the pieces of the mosaic, flashing golden and red in the light.

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "What is that?"

You point accusingly at a mosaic of a thousand black stars in ivory.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I do not know. Nothing to do with me, for now."

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

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi down to a breezy veranda of flickering veils.
LOOK PAINTING
Painted in flourishing oil strokes, this oversized painting depicts two elders, sitting back to back on a large tiled floor. The first, a well-built, ruddy-faced Kalikai, grins ear to ear as She turns up a bottle, Her other hand sketching some past exploit in the air. Leaning against Her is a softly blurred form, the ever-shifting elder Mysrai. A quizzical grin graces Mysrai's lips as an upturned ear listens to stories of days gone by and battles well-fought. Off to the side, a large sandstone hookah emits a haze of purple smoke. Surrounding the pair is a plethora of bottles of all shapes and sizes; very few have contents, having been drained by the ongoing revelry.

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of Reunification of Revelry.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "This one seems simple enough."

Looking at the painting, confused, you ask, "Who are?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Well, one is a form of the Shofet, and the other is another elder of the city, Lady Kalikai."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "Lady Kalikai...?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "The latter apparently drinks a lot."

You tilt your head curiously at Tsakali.

Tsakali shrugs helplessly.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Oh..."

Zakkias creases his brow in a frown.

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "What do mean, another elder? Like Divine?"

Tsakali nods their head at you.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Oh ...."

Scents of wine and resin mix, and the sounds of exertion and passion briefly reach you. <-- boi what

You blush furiously.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "I spent nearly three centuries searching for Lord Crumkane, ne'er to find Him."

Zakkias gives a pained sigh.

Tsakali wraps a comforting arm around Zakkias.

You tilt your head curiously at Zakkias.

You look about in confusion.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi northeast to beneath shifting mantras.
LOOK PAINTING
Mercurial paradigms manifest into chaotic images, their fleeting figures dissipating into the aether as quickly as they came. Volatile silhouettes of ephemeral entities coalesce from beyond the cosmic fold, rendered in haunting staccato. The Gentleman casts a sidelong glance, tipping his hat languidly to the onlooker - likewise, an Empress in pristine vestment mirrors His presence with unearthly poise. Multifarious hands splay forth in reverent embrace, heralding a myriad of Their forms whose likeness are obscured amidst a Void-black nebula. Beyond dead space, the couple beckons hither with the ebb and flow of reality.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to you, "Lord of Epicurean Delights."

Staring up at the painting thoughtfully, you ask, "What is Epi-cure-an?"

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to you, "You'd like Him, His is the realm of art."

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "He focused on cooking!"

You boggle at Zakkias.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Zakkias, "Really?!"

Zakkias nods his head emphatically.

You have emoted: Gurashi quickly lowers his voice and offers a much softer, but none the less excited "really?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "An epicurean is one who likes good food, soft clothes, and a comfortable lifestyle."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Oh ..."

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

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Well, like food part."

You have emoted: Gurashi lets out a sudden chittering laugh.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi south to a veil-wreathed Throne of the Infinite Aspect.
Rainbow hues have cooled and solidified upon the sides and seat of this armless, backless throne. A cushion of simple ivory rests at the lowest  point of the curve - the front is set with a panel of opal across which reality shimmers and parts into half-seen cityscapes and faceless figures. A simple veil of unworked linen scented with camphor is lifted aloft by slender poles from the back of the throne, cascading in a translucent, fluttering banner to present the illusion of a back.

Eerie, distant chanting eddies through the halls of the temple, a solemn girl's voice rising and falling in the odd glottals and stops of some long-dead tongue.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "One could associate him with the God of Cooks!"

You crease your brow in a frown.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Their throneroom."

Tsakali bows respectfully to an open-backed throne of voidcopper worked with poppies.

Quickly stepping closer, looking nervous again, you say to Tsakali, "Whatwasthat."

Tsakali smiles softly.

You have emoted: Gurashi looks about for the source of the sound.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "Crumkandivia, I believe it is, is something He was directly involved with."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Many peoples live in the Shifting City."

You stare implacably at Tsakali.

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "...p-people -live- here...?"

You boggle at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Of course. Why would they not? Who wouldn't want to live here?"

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "Have met any, besides Liar...?"

You blink.

You blush furiously.

Rubbing the back of his head, you say, "Erm, right."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Orange thieves, salemen, faceless citizens, Vrima, several other people."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi east to within a passage obscured by veils and stone.
LOOK PAINTING
This vast painting looks out over meandering lakes of liquid gold and silver. Dancing alongside the edges of the lake are several prominent followers of the Lady-and-Lord Mysrai. Each follower appears to be dancing to a different tune. Svana and Zenthain are seen whirling around each other in a furious clash of blades, sending thin lines of blood of each other like thin crimson scarves. Viynain and Ixchilgal seem to be conducting an elaborate game of merchant, exchanging various goods for unknown quantities of gold. Off to one side is Shulamit, throwing cup cakes and other baked goods at the other dancers. Arunasapta dances in the centre of the painting, directly in the centre of a lake of gold, her eyes closed as she concentrates on something in the distance.

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of Liquid Lakes of Gold and Silver.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "There's a fancy one."

Even more confused, but doing his best to keep up, you ask Tsakali, "What is a Vrima?"

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Hey, have seen some of these peoples..."

You have emoted: Gurashi points up towards Shulamit, then over towards Ixchilgal. "In timequakes..."

Oracular smoke drifts by on a Void-laden breeze, sending your mind betwixt veils of perception.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "You know, I can't explain Vrima."

You tilt your head curiously at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Imagine a cat that is not a cat, but a horrifying beast that looks like a cat, and is the same size as a cat."

You stare implacably at Tsakali.

Ilistala, an enormous leopard stares implacably at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I didn't stutter."

Bizirik, the leothin snorts, the sound sounding more like a laugh.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "The Shofet doesn't scare me, so long as I'm respectful. Vrima scares me."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi southeast to a terraced gathering place along the cliff.
LOOK PAINTING
This large painting depicts a raucous gathering of the many varied followers of the Lady-and-Lord Mysrai. The ship sails upon a sea of shifting purple sands, no distinguishable features save for the burning red and orange sun high above the ship. The large wooden hulled ship is based on some ancient design, bearing three tall square sails, with a smaller triangular sail in the back of the boat. The deck of the boat is split into two major sections, one with two of the large sails, and a third higher platform, with the last sail. The ship itself has been gilded in gold leaf and gems, creating intricate, labyrinthine patterns that cover the entire hull of the massive ship. Dozens of followers of Mysrai line the deck of the ship, playing, dancing, and sparring among one another. The followers are as varied as their activities are, ranging from dark blue and red dracnari, smoke pouring from their nostrils as they spar each other, to faelings and furrikins talking and dancing with each other. Several artists sit up at the front of the ship, passing sketches between each other, while one small dracnari artist paints the endless waves of purple sands that they are floating on. In place of a wooden figurehead, a female dracnari has been secured safely to the prow of the ship, pointing out the most interesting way to travel through the desert of purple sands. A small pink-robed lucidian stands at the prow of the ship, feeding cup cakes to the dracnari, looking at her with concern in her silver eyes. A massive throne of twisting sands and changing paradigms rises from the highest deck of the ship, upon which the Lord-and-Lady Mysrai is seated. Their form is in between known forms, twisting and turning, flashes of the known and unknown seen deep within. A faint smile plays upon Their features, clearly pleased with Their followers.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "...a cat that is not a cat, but is scary like cat, but is same size as cat..."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "...are talking New Celest stray cat, or, Ilistala-sized cat?"

You peer about yourself unscrupulously.

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of A Mysraian Ship on Waves of Purple Sands.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "It is...an illusion."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "No, a cat that is a horrifying monster, but looks like a cat, and is the same size as a cat."

In the depths of the shifting fog, vast wings stir the sky with shifting patterns of nightmares. Darker shadows follow beyond, a flotilla of moths soaring through the billowing clouds.

"Uhh..." stalls Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Celest cat."

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "But one that...hides that, yes."

You blink a few times and stare at Tsakali in confusion.

Not yet looking at the painting, clearly trying to work it out, you say, "So, is... a monster ... but is a cat."

Zakkias pets you ingratiatingly.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "...no, is trying to be a cat."

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "Wants to look like one."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Something like that. I don't know because I don't stand too close to it."

Zakkias taps his nose knowingly.

Looking between them at Zakkias, you say to Tsakali, "Is ... oh."

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

<-- Cupcake painting again

Tsakali nods their head at a painting of The Urchin in Ivory Surrounded by Pastries.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "One of my favorites."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi looks thoughtful and says, "I think you saw this one already."

You have emoted: Gurashi shakes his head as he walks, dazed, before looking up at the painting.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Ah - this is the one that looked delicious..."

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "Said that Liar likes to come here?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Shulamit's skill as a painter of things whimsical is astounding."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "They do, sometimes."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi east to a cliffside pavilion over a roiling abyss.
A cliffside pavilion over a roiling abyss.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Ivory, copper, pillars, twisting ribbons of molten material rise on the outermost edge of this walkway along the sheer side of the cliff. At the centre of this wide, crimson-paved walkway, a great dias of copper rises, stamped with fell, strange symbols. Braziers hang from above, descending from amidst a panoply of many coloured tapestries depicting the innumerable forms of the Thousandfold. A low, rounded dias of copper and ivory rests at the centre of the floor, surrounded by radiating patterns of enameled gold and indigo tiles: above, a tripod dangles on tarnished chains, disgorging clouds of resin-scented smoke. Spangled with eccentric loops of indigo, emerald and copper, a rough collection of abstract feathers adorns an otherwise blank painting. Streaked in kaleidoscopic paint, astatue of Ashtariel of a Thousand Hues stands here.

LOOK PAINTING
Warped and bent, this painting has clearly seen better days. Some hand has scrawled looping spirals of indigo, emerald and copper in great abstract patterns upon the canvas. Splashes and whorls of paint spill over across the battered frame: within, the pattern emerges in a suggestion of feathers and a thousand black and tarnished eyes. Speckles of darker blues adorn the backdrop, outlining strange, ghostly forms of birds, or people, or tilting buildings as one regards the piece.

LOOK STATUE
Brilliant whorls of abstract paint adorn the slender form of this statue, framing streaked inclusions of lightning-filled crystal, and sharp, sand-eroded cheeks. Her hands are stretched before Her in mute supplication, Her lips turned down in solemnity. She is crowned in shards of metal and half-molten crystal, and Her hands are stained with the remnants of votive candles and dried paint.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says something unintelligible in a brutal and snarling tongue.

Faintly buzzing, you ask, "Oh - what happened to painting ...eh?"

Tsakali shudders, their eyes melting into pools of purest black riven with stars. In another moment, they fail to exist, slipping away as a strand of resin-scented smoke into the aether.

Faintly buzzing, you ask, "Oh - what happened to painting ...eh?"

You see the following people here:
Zakkias, Xenthos, Gurashi.

Panicked, you say, "Where did go."

Tsakali tells you, "Teleport to me."

Reaching out with your mind, you grasp the harmonic song of the domothean energies as you seek Tsakali.
The lingering notes of harmonic purity swell to impossible heights as you step confidently through the song of reality itself.
An antechamber at the descent.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Lengths of silken fabrics and gossamer flutter in the broad, open gallery of this pavilion, dusted with motes of diamond and sapphire no larger than drops of dew. The sky, in the distance, is beginning to turn vivid purple and crimson with a fiery dawn: to either side, and above, a massive cliff without beginning or end stretches. Over the edge of a wrought copper rail adorned with fist-sized rubies enameled with golden labyrinths, a massive city is faintly visible in the depths of the fog-churned bottom of the cliff, descending multiple terraces into silvery nothingness. A pair of broad coppery doors rests here, panels emblazoned with devices of a trey of keys. Sniffing at the air, a great brindle mastiff stands here with a cheerful demeanor.

You begin to follow Tsakali.

"Ok!" Tsakali exclaims.

You have recognised Tsakali for: For a wonderful tour of Mysrai's art gallery, and temple! We probably shouldn't be here, but the RP is fun!!

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Let me think."

Tsakali nods their head at a delusional citizen.
A delusional citizen smiles softly.

You tilt your head and listen intently to Tsakali.
A delusional citizen stares blankly into space.

You give a short gasp of elation.

You greet a delusional citizen with a sincere smile.
A delusional citizen smiles softly, glancing past you.

You greet a faceless, indistinct citizen with a sincere smile.
A faceless, indistinct citizen stares blankly into space.

A delusional citizen exists. <-- omg, the -best-

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Trying to think of interesting places in the realm to show you."

Smile faltering a bit, you say, "Oh ..."

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "And here we have the Dreamdocks."
The dock of misunderstanding.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Shaped like an enormous pair of insect pincers, this stretch of the Dreamdocks is two-pronged and curves slightly inwards towards itself; smaller craft are moored in the makeshift lagoon between its halves, while larger ships float dreamily in the starry fog that curls and churns within the Void. It is a particularly busy wharf, the star-weathered wood worn thin and smooth all along its length, and some places are so clogged with stacked cargo that makeshift stairs have been constructed atop them so that one can pass. While some of the bustle and crowding is no doubt due to the silks and soporifics being unloaded here, part of it seems to be due to the fact that at least three different vessels are constantly being loaded at one half of the dock before sailing to the other side to be unloaded again, repeating infinitely. Copper-clad and gleaming with a mirror-walled lantern at the very top, a beacon looms here at the edge of the dock.
You see a single exit leading east.

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim, "Ohhh...!"

Tsakali nods their head at a sneaking orange thief.
A sneaking orange thief leaps and frisks about.

You chirp happily at a sneaking orange thief.
A sneaking orange thief says, "Hello, stranger. Do you serve the Saint? Do you serve the Thousandfold?"

Tsakali's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Faintly buzzing, you ask, "...Saint? Thousandfold?"
Bouncing about off various objects, a sneaking orange thief exclaims, "Hey, we're not telling you about her! Besides, we don't even know her name!"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "Don't give him your oranges."
A sneaking orange thief exclaims, "Ah ah, I won't give up our charges so readily!"

Worried, you ask Tsakali, "Did not bring any oranges - was supposed to?"
A sneaking orange thief exclaims, "Ah ah, I won't give up our charges so readily!"

Tsakali shakes their head at you.

Whispering as he continues on, you say, "Even beacons are poppy-shaped ..."

Tsakali nods their head at you.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi southeast to the eastern edge of the Dreamdocks.
The eastern edge of the Dreamdocks.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. An arch straddles the street here, made from bones and flowers and forgotten masonry, with a few paper charms tied around its lintel; on one side the Labyrinthine Market bustles, while to the west the Dreamdocks extend into the endless nothing of the Void-fog. A stone brazier emitting curlicued clouds of noisome smoke squats next to the arch, but it lacks an obvious mate save for a discoloured intentation marking where its twin once stood. The buildings are tall and narrow, like bitter widowers, their rooftops exaggeratedly pointy and roofed in the dreams of hanged men and a healthy coating of tar. A throng of carts clogs much of the street and makes it difficult to go more than a few steps without being confronted with another souvenir merchant or vendor of questionably-acquired goods.
You see exits leading north, northwest, and up.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi up to beneath the inverted Labyrinthine Market.
LOOK SCALE
This scale is set atop a plinth at the centre of the inverted Market. Pieces are missing - pecked away or otherwise bent and broken by scratches and heavy damage.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Oh..."

You ponder a broken scale thoughtfully, looking it up and down.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "There's a lot to show you, and I'm not sure what you could be interested in."

Pointing at the scale, you say to Tsakali, "Should fix that!"

The Shifting City fades around you. Your stomach drops into nothingness, falling endlessly before the surrounding buildings and streets recondense.

Tsakali gives a little laugh, nodding their head.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "When I learn more about the city, I hope to."

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Will see any things that like -- oof."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Yeah, the city does that. Existence is fleeting."

You have emoted: Gurashi pauses, clasping all four hands at different parts of his torso and abdomen. "Right..."

Gazing into an empty infinite.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Blazing streaks of charcoal have been smeared across the breadth of a leaf-tiled plaza, which swells and churns itself out of pedestrian arteries, a smoking, well-trodden clot of space in the street. In the centre of that coagulation of smoke and immolation yawns a black-ringed hole which possesses Nothing in its withered mouth. A pavilion of ladders arches over the plaza, wilting hellebore strung onto dozens of quivering rungs as they creak in terror of the flames and weep resinous beads onto the sprawl of the road. Flocks of eclectic ribbons soar high overhead, nesting in the smiling attics of nearby buildings as they spread their shingles and bare their clutter to the starlight. A shallow altar of volcanic obsidian rests here, sizzling with lambent snaps of copper and scarlet.
You see exits leading north and southwest.

LOOK SHRINE
Wending in improbable ways through mirror-slick stone, lines of gleaming copper and scarlet illuminate the material of this obsidian altar. Some unseen hand has shaped the low sides and the smooth surface: some greater Hand has rendered shifting things in the interior, barely hinted at by the lines. Strange things, barely perceptible shift above this, an odd twisting, a star-riven eye emerging from there, fingers rendered as shifting digits, claws flicking into hair, scales, slime, and a thousand other things.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Another of my favorite spots."

Tilting his head at the altar, you say, "What is...?"

The chiming of precious metal striking together signals the arrival of a wheelworked extravagant magpie. While soaring overhead, a wheelworked extravagant magpie opens its back compartment and turns upside down to drop a painting of At the Bonfire into your hands as it flashes its shiny wings triumphantly.
He is loyal to Tridemon Regalis, Keeper of Pure Waters.

You blink.

Tsakali shrugs helplessly at you.

LOOK PAINTING
Set in a darkened glade, the main focus of this painting is a blazing
bonfire in brilliant hues of reds, oranges, and yellows, reaching up
toward the night sky with shimmering stars just berely visible through
the smoke. Aside from the bonfire, there are two subjects to the
painting- one a lithe figure made of swirling green vines, and the other
a taller, bulkier figure of purple armor, with four arms. They are
dancing together, but the figure of armour seems distinctly clumsier
than the figure of vines... though it's obvious that neither of them
cares about that in the slightest. At the edges of the painting are
other figures, similarly in singular colors, but they are simply
watching. A figure made up entirely of a robe of midnight blue, the
outline of a Tae'Dae in black and orange, a short mouse-furrikin made of
gray smoke, and a squirrel-furrikin of blood-red thornvines are all
along the edges of the composition, watching without comment.

(Trasto): You say, "Boi."

Tsakali ponders a labyrinth-traced altar of Mu thoughtfully, looking it up and down.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Likely an altar from one of Their avatars, though I'm not sure whose."

You stare implacably at a painting of At the Bonfire.

You blush at a painting of At the Bonfire furiously.

Tsakali shrugs helplessly at a labyrinth-traced altar of Mu.

You have emoted: Gurashi nods quickly at Tsakali, tucking the painting away.

Tsakali ponders for a moment and says "Hrm..."

You chirp happily at Tsakali.

Tsakali puts their hands on their hips and goes "Hmmm!"

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "And, is this ... regular Shofet Mysrai's realm? Or is still temple?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I need one of those tracking things."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "A brazier? What are trying to find?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "This part is all part of Their realm."

You chitter at Tsakali with energetic clicks of your mandibles.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Vrima."

You raise the brazier in the air while envisioning your target in your mind, and light seems to shine toward the south.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "South."

<-- I lost Tsakali because dumb

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Oof."

A tangled ball of roots.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Thick tree roots float here amidst the stars and moss, trailing away into nothingness like so many grasping fingers. Origami-folded trinkets are sunk partways into the wood like the heads of arrows into targets: here, a lyrebird lingers, there a lion nods, and oddly, folded from many tendrils of indigo paper, an octopus fights to escape from a thick knot of wood and bark. Further away from this amputated bit of tree, other islands float in the fog.
You see exits leading north and southwest.

You flail about helplessly.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Uh oh."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Uh oh uh oh."

Harmony echoes in your mind as you sing to Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi, "Am sorry! It seems to be ... north??"

Harmony echoes in your mind as you sing to Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi, "Moved because was following brazier! This city - is confusing!!"

Tsakali gives a little laugh, nodding their head.

You click your mandibles together energetically, chittering to yourself.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Lost Zakkias too!"

You flail about helplessly.

Tsakali throws a tarot card at the ground and it disappears.
A portal grows quickly, through which Zakkias quickly appears.

Tsakali raises their hand in greeting to Zakkias and says "Hi!"

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "How will know w-- whoa."

You have emoted: Gurashi lets out a sudden chittering laugh.

Raising his hand in greeting, Zakkias says "Hi!"

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Is ...following this spiral, think..."

<-- lost Zakkias, had to go back and get

You make a beckoning motion to no-one in particular.

Determined, you say to Zakkias, "Are looking for a monster that wants to be a cat that is still monster but is also maybe cat."

You nod your head sagely.

Zakkias blinks.

Zakkias begins to follow you.

Amidst webbing of cotton and cashmere.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Warm, soft cashmere yarn mingles with more solid lengths of cashmere along this road, anchored in the remnants of broken walls and to lengths of voidcopper planted in tiny islets of floating dirt and pavement. Granny squares soar overhead, feet of rosettes and mesh blocking out the endless twilight of the alien firmament. Warm cottages constructed from poles and soaring afghans of cream and carmine strands line the roadway. Tilted eyes gleaming with sundry saffron stars, Vrima, Eater of Moths lounges here.

You point off into the wild blue yonder.

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim, "Found!"

LOOK VRIMA
Lean and scripture-winged, Vrima is a handsome specimen of feline, if not an odd one. Long, unkempt fur of washed-out jade gleams unnaturally, every tuft glistening and crystalline. Oblong eyes, sharply tilted in a most cattish manner, shift betwixt yellow and orange on a field of solid black, these sundry saffron stars at war with one another in an endless, hypnotic back-and-forth. Elongated fangs appear from beneath her whiskered lips, their rivals found only in the ivory claws that flex in and out of view from their sheaths. Frayed bits of parchment covered in illegible script dot her spine, gusting to the ground beneath her hovering form with each shift of unhallowed wings or lash of her restless tail.
Vrima, Eater of Moths almost glows with nearly god-like power.

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

You click your mandibles together energetically, chittering to yourself.

"Uhh..." stalls Tsakali.

Tsakali greets Vrima, Eater of Moths with a sincere smile.
Vrima, Eater of Moths curls around Tsakali with a distorted purr, jade-bristled fur rubbing abrasively against their leg.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "There is a bridge that carries my family name!"

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "I didn't know it!"

Studying Vrima, you exclaim, "Oh ... is not so bad...!"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to Zakkias, "There is!"

Zakkias pets Vrima, Eater of Moths ingratiatingly.
Vrima, Eater of Moths stretches languidly, scripture-wrought wings dusting the ground in the forgotten prayers to the Lord-and-Lady.

Tsakali greets Vrima, Eater of Moths with a sincere smile.
Ebon stars overtake the brilliant saffron in Vrima's eyes, and for a moment reality about her warps, revealing a beast far larger.

You chirp happily at Tsakali.

Making no sudden movements, Tsakali backs away from Vrima, Eater of Moths slowly.
Vrima, Eater of Moths curls around Tsakali with a distorted purr, jade-bristled fur rubbing abrasively against their leg.

Bending down to offer a hand to the creature, you ask, "Is kind of cute in sort of way?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Cute and deadly."

Unbothered, you say to Vrima, Eater of Moths, "Mannyyyyyyy... greetings!"

You pet Vrima, Eater of Moths ingratiatingly.

Petting the weirdly jagged fur, you say to Vrima, Eater of Moths, "Is nice to meet sort-of-cat!"

Reality buckles and warps as though some great form is smashing down upon the ground, only ceasing when a storm of chaos energy begins to rage and Mysrai steps from its depths.

LOOK MYSRAIAAAAAHHHH
With much of Their figure fading in and out of shifting realities draped around Them, there is little that can distinguish the gender of this small figure. It is only certain that They are a radiant immortal. Where Their body is visible, small tufts of short-cropped fur can be seen in intermittent patches, the flesh beneath visible pulsing with colourful hieroglyphics of a dead language. Set deep into an elongated, canid head are twin vortexes of inky black Void, stars and constellations spinning and swirling through the depths in nonsensical, hypnotic patterns. Atop Their head sit two peculiar ears, line cones that have been flipped upside down, swivelling constantly to capture more of the world around Them. In the area just beyond Them, enormous limbs of black sand and forked red lightning twitch in restless anticipation to cause untold destruction through the strange and alien realities barely glimpsed through the chaotic sandstorm.
Long black fur, shot through with strands of deep crimson, extends in a mohawk that stretches down Their spine to the small of Their back.
They are wearing:
a reforged crown of gleaming voidcopper that floats ominously above Their head;
tattered robes of ebon silk that look ready to fall apart at any moment;
a spiralling ring resplendent with gemstones that is pierced through Their right ear;
a thick golden collar beset with dark gems that hangs heavy across Their shoulders and throat.

Tsakali bows respectfully to Mysrai.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Hare, Shofet."

Still bent over, petting Vrima, you say, "....a...h..."

You have emoted: Gurashi slowly lifts his gaze to look up at Mysrai, eyes wide. "....m..."

Tsakali nudges you suggestively.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to Mysrai, "Most Beloved, hello."

Bizirik's head begins to droop. It opens its great maw and curls back its lips to allow its forked tongue to unfurl as it yawns before snapping its mouth shut. <-- Bizi no

You have emoted: Gurashi quickly rises to his feet, stiffly offering a very surprised bow towards the Shofet. "M-manygreetings!"

You nudge Xenthos suggestively.

Harmony echoes in your mind as you sing to Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist, "Are supposed to bow? Think!? Are -guests- oh my goodness."

Mysrai whips the Jackal's staff roughly to the side, sending black blood flying from its blade to splatter along the webbing lining the area. Dark, shadowy hieroglyphs shot through with dark saffron lightning float in the air around Them as They stare up at you and Xenthos without blinking.

Stalking through the air with a predatory gleam in her eyes, Vrima, Eater of Moths emerges from the north.

Vrima, Eater of Moths snuggles up close to Mysrai, looking happy and content.

Xenthos tells you, "It would not hurt to do so, if you wish. It is important to be respectful to all Divine, so however you show respect would be the appropriate response."

Tsakali stares blankly at Vrima, Eater of Moths.
Ebon stars overtake the brilliant saffron in Vrima's eyes, and for a moment reality about her warps, revealing a beast far larger.

Mysrai suddenly snaps Their wrist wielding the Jackal's staff. With the audible noise of metal upon metal, the staff's segments retract until the silk-wrapped grips merge to form one. Simultaneously, the thin, wickedly-sharp blade tracts until just the tip is evident as the jackal head atop it closes its snarling mouth. What was once a staff is now a sceptre.

Daintily sniffing the air, Vrima, Eater of Moths shakes out her wings, stalking off to the southwest.

Shrinking a bit, repeating himself softer, you say to Mysrai, "...... many ... greetings."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to Mysrai, "These two have taken care of Your Liar in their journey to become. I am returning the favor in showing them Your realm, if it is acceptable."

You blush furiously.

Zakkias hives a righteous bong pipe a friendly cuddle, a broad and sunny smile plastered to his fur-covered face. He sways gently. That is, until the Tousandfold seems less than pleased. At sight of the sceptre, though, he takes a long step backwards; still much less than a full step for an average sized human.

"It is wise to learn if such a thing is acceptable before acting on the whim," Mysrai's deep baritone thrums through the air, your heart beating as though it were the lute from which the note was plucked. Golden hieroglyphs scatter with each word as They intone, "I am well aware of you, Wyrden Xenthos, but you..."

Mysrai steps forward, black sand coalescing throughout the area beginning to whirl around Their lower half in a fearsome dust devil that lifts Them into the air as They come to hover before the kepheran.

You have emoted: Gurashi clasps his hands together near his chest, nervously wringing both sets together. "...u-uhm," He offers Mysrai, calming his shaking hands. "H-hello! Am, Gurashi An'Ryshe," He offers, speaking up over the growing din from the dust devil.

Zakkias raises his furry hand timidly, "Most Beloved, if I may say, Gurashi befriended Your Beloved Liar. Baked cookies with them. Was their friend, truly."

(Trasto): You say, "I don't want to be yote."
(Trasto): You say, "But i think im gonna be."
(Trasto): Malarious (from the Aetherways) says, "Deathsight on."

Golden hieroglyphs that fade to amber, and then to a burnt sienna spill onto you as Mysrai speaks, temporarily discolouring your outer carapace as They say, "I am aware, My Beloved." The constellations within Their eyes burst and reform in quick repetition as They study you without blinking, no emotion discernible from Their face.

Tsakali crosses their arms expectantly.

You have emoted: Gurashi quickly drops his arms, knowing he is being scrutinized and standing as still as can be. "Oh... O-K, many apologies," He offers, trailing off. His antennae droop back a bit, hands clenching and unclenching.

Tsakali places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a soft smile before facing Mysrai.

You twiddle your thumbs.

A deep primal fear grows in your stomach, piercing down to your very soul as the dark sand surrounding Mysrai's head begins to fall away, revealing more and more of Their jackal head, the lupine lips parting to reveal jagged teeth. Before you can react, They press Their lips to your forehead, and then float back as a scarlet hieroglyph lingers there and crackles with lightning.
Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales has bestowed Their divine highfavour upon you. It will last for 30 months.

You blink.

Turning a confused shade of red, you ask, "...eeeeeeeeeEhhhHH??"

You boggle at Mysrai.

(Trasto): You say, "Did they just."

"In the future, ask My permission, lest I reduce you to begging the finks of Newton's Cavern for mercy," Mysrai says, Their baritone shaking the ground below your feet as They turn fix Their stare on Tsakali and Zakkias. "Is My Will understood?"

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to Mysrai, "It is understood, Most Beloved."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "My Will brought them here, and I will answer for it. Your Will be done in this, Shofet."

Dumbfounded, you say to Mysrai, "Ah..."

Zakkias raises a finger, "Might I have counsel with You, alone, Most Beloved?"

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "Erm, before You retire to Your thoughts, that is."

"No." Mysrai's voice thunders ominously, as They are consumed by black sand on all sides. "You have guests."
A swirling sandstorm of chaos energy engulfs Mysrai, scouring the area around Them before fading to leave reality whole and safe once more.

Tsakali chuckles long and heartily.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "It's a good day when you don't visit the Abyss. Who's ready to keep moving?"

Zakkias beams broadly.

You have emoted: Gurashi stands stiff as a board, staring off into the space where the Shofet recently occupied. "...huh?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "You learn to shrug a lot. What did you think of the not-cat?"

Slowly coming back around, you say to Tsakali, "... the ... not-cat ..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Pretty scary, right?"

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim to Tsakali, "... oh - n-no, the... not-cat was cute!"

Tsakali shudders violently.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Oh!"

You begin to follow Tsakali.

Comprehension flashes across Tsakali's face.

Reaching up to touch his forehead, you ask, "...was mad?"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "If They were mad, you would be journeying back to us. Or not."

Zakkias smirks.

Zakkias nods his head emphatically.

Tsakali puts their hands on their hips and goes "Hmmm!"

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "I can attest."

Dazed as he walks, you say, "Oh ... that is good, then..."

Tsakali puts their hands on their hips and goes "Hmmm!"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "Imagine making a cookie from this egg, eh?"

Tsakali points off into the wild blue yonder.

Reaching up to gently touch his forehead, you ask, "...huh...?"

Your eyes bug out as you boggle in amazement.

Noticing the size of the egg, you exclaim, "Wowee is huge!"

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "You befriended the Liar. You made them happy, when they didn't know what happiness was, without the Most Beloved."

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says to you, "I daresay you're fairly safe."

You blink.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "The things we know and the sights we have seen are minor compared to what we do not know, and what we have not seen."

Sheepishly, you ask Zakkias, "Oh - think...?"

Zakkias nods his head at you.

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "I do."

You nod your head slowly in understanding.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Nobody is really safe. You're probably safer than many."

Tsakali gives a little laugh, nodding their head.

With a nervous, chittering laugh, you say, "Oh ..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Interesting spots."

Within an ivory eggshell.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. This chamber has been carved from what an enormous off-white eggshell the size of a manse, though what could hatch from such a thing -- much less lay it -- is perhaps best left unexplored. Delicate holes pierce its shell in lace-like arrays, those on the bottom forming a star map of the glittering Void below while the patterns along the egg's tapered top write paeans to aspects of Mysrai as yet unrevealed. Lamps made from smaller eggs hang from the ceiling, clinking softly against golden rings tied with ribbon, while curls of incense smoke twirl towards the curving floor to escape through the holes in the shell. In the center of the egg is an empty nest on a plinth with offerings of sticks bundled at its foot. A sneaking orange thief prowls here, eyes gleaming amber with secrets.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "As long as will not be in too much trouble, with Them, for taking to see ... am grateful that took to see, if am honest."

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Liked all the paintings ... were so many, and were all so pretty."

You nod your head at Tsakali.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I'll apologise to Them later."

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi southeast to near a mask-forge.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "To one of my favorite spots."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "All of the cool places have altars that really add to them."

Near a mask-forge.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. A wooden sign hung up across its threshold identifies the pavilion set up between a pair of run-down houses as a mask-forge, but even without the sign the scraps of old and broken masks scattered about would provide a clue to its nature. A white silken domino adorned with silver bells and edged in golden thread lies atop the anvil, a hammer propped up nearby, while the fires of the smithy's forge have a cold blue tint to them. Finished masks, some quite large and ornate, hang sightlessly from the ropes strung across the street. An altar adorned with a broad, curling framework of coppery bells lies here in a plume of shifting smoke.
You see exits leading east and northwest.

You click your mandibles together energetically, chittering to yourself.

Looking about as he continues to walk, you say, "So many different reds - are so bright and warm..."

Tsakali nods their head at you.

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

Tsakali ponders for a moment and says "Hrm..."

A fishery of mirrors.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Hunks of silvered glass float placidly in midair, each the size and shape of a full-length mirror and each surrounded by paraphernalia befitting a fishmonger. Butcher blocks glint with fresh blood where they have been left to the side for another day. Several many-jointed metal arms are folded up overhead into a sort of makeshift pavilion. Occasionally a whistle will sound or a gear will creak and one of the machine-arms will thrust itself into one of the mirrors with all the force of a starving wading bird, only retracting once it has plucked out a fish, a length of seaweed, or someone's reflection.
You see exits leading north and southwest.

A faceless, indistinct citizen exists.

Looking up in awe, you exclaim, "...ah - is like the fun house from Wayfaire!"

Zakkias beams broadly at a faceless, indistinct citizen.
A faceless, indistinct citizen smiles softly at Zakkias. <--nightmare fuel

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi smiles and says, "Sort of."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Are they mirror, or are they pools of water? Or both?"

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Mean - is little less disorienting than fun house... fun-house was actually more like, un-fun house..."

You ponder Tsakali thoughtfully, looking them up and down.

Tsakali gives a little laugh, nodding their head.

You follow Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi west to approaching ten thousand dreams of falling.
Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "This one is rather scary."

Approaching ten thousand dreams of falling.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. The skinny-throated street curls in upon itself here, yearning to meet with a single glassy cylinder that spears the end of the road as though it might otherwise flee. Within the glass comes a high-pitched keening just on the edge of perception: it is male and female and both and neither, flavoured boldly with terror and a soupcon of white-eyed euphoria, and while the glass itself is empty one can see the rarest flicker of a star-shaped figure plummeting endlessly into the Void. The bottom of the cylinder is invisible, but the top is open to the sky, and the eye-watering hues of the residue along its top belie visits from greedy dreameaters. Shrouded in veils and glittering with lanterns, a crescent-shaped altar rests here, giving off plumes of sweet and bitter smoke.
You see a single exit leading east.

A citizen wanders by, vague and flickering, vanishing rapidly into the paths and roads of the Shifting City.

Staying near to the rest of the group, you say, "...this one feels ..."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Scary."

You boggle at Tsakali.

Tsakali nods their head at you.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Sometimes I'll sit here and lean against the glass, listening to it for hours on end."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "...ah...?"

You have emoted: Gurashi looks to the glass, then back to Tsakali curiously.

LOOK SHRINE
Lengths of ebon silk twine themselves around the broad crescent of this altar, covering all but the shallow offering bowl at the broad centre. Between these enveloping veils, a shining, mirror-bright surface emerges, lit by tiny lanterns of belled voidcopper embedded partially in the sides. Dried and fresh poppy petals mingle with caked coins of resin and dried blood in the offering bowl: at the centre, a coal burns, solitary and undying, giving off a thin ribbon of intoxicating smoke.

Tsakali nods their head at you.

Faintly buzzing, you ask, "What is the altar for ...?"

Tsakali puts their hands on their hips and goes "Hmmm!"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "An altar of Ebony. Not sure whose it is, maybe Persayis'"

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Thought at first glance was Lord Silence's."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Altars in a Divine Realm are the altars of an Avatar who has had a Cult made."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "But, is obsidian..."

Tsakali nods their head at Xenthos.

You tilt your head curiously at Xenthos.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "I've one in Lord Shikari's realm, as well."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Xenthos, "So - is somebody's Avatar shrine?"

You click your mandibles together energetically, chittering to yourself.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "The Ebon path is for those who walk the line between sanity and reality, the Void and Creation."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "Not sure if that last one is right, but you get the idea."

Tsakali puts their hands on their hips and goes "Hmmm!"

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "I guess I'd better get you out of here before the Shofet comes back."

You have emoted: Gurashi smiles weakly.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Many thank yous for the tour ... d-did not think that They would really show up! But, did ..."

Touching his forehead again, you say, "Am sad could not find the Liar though..."

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "There's a lot to show, and it's hard to know what you'd be interested in. I hope I showed you some interesting things."

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim to Tsakali, "Oh! Yes! Was amazing!"

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Many many thank yous! Their realm is very beautiful -yes-."
Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says to you, "The Liar is in sort of a sad mood right now. It's a long story. Maybe sometime soon?"

You crease your brow in a frown.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Oh dear - uhm, O-K."

Faintly buzzing, you ask Tsakali, "Can give something for, then?"

You pipe the words in frosting onto a green absinthe cup cake with bumblebee motifs, "Hope feel better soon!".

You give a green absinthe cup cake with bumblebee motifs to Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I still have your pie, but I'm sure they wouldn't turn down sugar."

Tsakali grins mischievously at a green absinthe cup cake with bumblebee motifs.

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

You have emoted: Gurashi lets out a sudden chittering laugh.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Hope not."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Again - many thank yous... wowee."

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Found this place for first time by accident, sort of recently..."

Faintly buzzing, you say, "Is funny, that actually have been now ..."

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

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "You can teleport back home from here if you want."

You flash Tsakali a joyous smile.

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "O-K. Many many thank yous again."

Faintly buzzing, you say to Tsakali, "Please let know if are needing any things!"

Zakkias pets you ingratiatingly.

Tsakali nods their head emphatically.

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim to Tsakali, "Oh! And let know if are participating in Secret Solstice!"

You point accusingly at Zakkias.

You point accusingly at Tsakali.

Faintly buzzing, you exclaim, "Read latest Crux post!"

Zakkias nods his head emphatically.

Tsakali, Pilgrim of Bodhi says, "I'll read it and let you know."

Zakkias "Longears" Lunarose says, "I will be attending, yes."

You have emoted: Gurashi attempts to wink, but only manages to blink very hard with both eyes.

You chirp happily.

Tsakali nods their head at you.

You wave goodbye.