...do not need the Sun...?

Arcane Library.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. The smell of incense and candle-smoke is engrained into the very being of this room. A tall table stands in the centre of the room, a thick oak slab covered in melted wax and ink stains. Papers are rolled up on its surface, many in the process of being written. All around the walls stand tall bookcases, filled to the brim with ancient books and scrolls. A small window provides the only light, shining down onto the wooden floorboards through glass panes covered in dusty spider-webs. A library catalogue rests here on a pedestal. A library catalogue rests here on a pedestal. There are 2 soft padded rocker upholstered in black velvets here. Depicting the four trees of Glomdoring in stylistic renditions, a woven, rose-scented rug spreads across the floor. A small table hewn from a ravenwood trunk has been upended here, providing a small surface on which to rest various objects. A sleigh-shaped couch rests here, welcoming. The Chess Board of Libertas is here, glowing with precise, shifting light and arrayed with resplendent crystal pieces. Glowing gently with a soft blue light, a delicate dreamcatcher has been permanently hung here. A slender leothin sits here motionless, brightening its surroundings with its natural golden bio-luminescence. You may use the LIBRARY commands here.
You see exits leading east (open door) and in.
You touch the Chess Board of Libertas and its resplendent golden glow washes over you, giving you an overwhelming sense of exhilaration and well-being as its power regenerates you.

(Glomdoring): Evette (from the Aetherways) says, "Dark Tidings, Lady Viravain."

You think to yourself: Wonder how much honors will get for Shee-Slaugh by honoring Mister Lord Silence...

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Tell Me a story. What inspires My wood to continue?"
You feel your song quickly coming to a close.

Thoughtfully, you say, "What inspires...."

You think to yourself: What does She mean.

The pressure of the night sky builds within your skull, the intoxicating aroma of roses permeating your senses completely. You feel the sensation of a gentle, taloned hand upon your cheek lingers, caressing and digging, motherly and terrible.

You think to yourself: The peoples who live in it and are dedicat...

You think to yourself: **thoughts trail off...**.

You have emoted: Gurashi stands very still before the Chess Board of Libertas, lips drawn into a tight, thin line as he considers it intently.

<-- long pause

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Mm? You are all so uninspired?"

(Glomdoring): You say, "M-many apologies for the delay in an answer, My Lady!"

(Glomdoring): Esri (from the Aetherways) says, "Dark Greetings."

(Glomdoring): You say, "Am always inspired, yes! As for what inspires Your wood..."

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Dark Greetings Lady Viravain."

You have emoted: Gurashi crosses his arms awkwardly over his chest, brain scrambling for an answer.

(Glomdoring): Steingrim says, "The story that most intrigues me currently is that of my shadow. It seems to wander off at times."

The sensation of a taloned hand upon your cheek tightens, the claws digging deeper and yet drawing no blood. The choking aroma of roses pulses, surging deeper into your mind.

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Indeed? Tell Me of this, Steingrim."

(Glomdoring): Indrosiril says, "I suppose what inspires me within Your forest is..perhaps the shedding of my ties to the northern forest of their feebleness."

You think to yourself: Does She mean literally the woods or from -us-.... o-oh-- **a rush of white hot fear**.

(Glomdoring): Steingrim says, "I am unsure if it actually leaves me. Or if I just lack the perception to see it always."

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Mmm. Tell Me of their seasons, Indrosiril. Do they wax or wane?"

You think to yourself: .... feel inspired by new friendships.

You glance askance.

You think to yourself: Potential big big new friendships.

You have emoted: Gurashi returns his gaze to the board.

You think to yourself: **for a moment, a swirl of colors, and an imagined vision of the Glomdoring, vibrant and healthy - of Lord Nocht, returned to full health and no longer bearing the hideous flame-colored scars left by the Lady of Serenity - the Shofet...**.

(Glomdoring): Indrosiril says, "From what I can tell even still, is of their waning. They seem to have no will, nor wanting, no desire for anything. I can only imagine this feels ripe for their tah'vrai."

You stare blankly into space.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "What inspires my is the beauty of the dark woods and grows in the very nature of my body and soul."

The scent of wyrden plant life wafts past your nose, carried by a straying breeze.

(Glomdoring): Indrosiril says, "As to tie into what Esri stated, this forest has grown deeply within me and continues."

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "A winter, barren of fruit. Rot and ripe for harvest. Thank you, Indrosiril."

(Glomdoring): Indrosiril says, "I thank You, Mistress."

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "What is beauty to you, Esri? What shall I compare it to?"

You think to yourself: Inspired by the impossible.

You think to yourself: In time when Friends are suddenly becoming far and few....

You think to yourself: ...why cannot say this aloud.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Beauty os you Lady Viravain everything is only ever compared to your beauty."

You think to yourself: ...mouth... -work-.

You have emoted: Gurashi puffs his cheeks, taking a deep, calming breath.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Beauty is the nature of the very forest."

You think to yourself: Feel inspired by impossible in times when friends are far and few, inspired by impossible in times when friends are far and few...

You have emoted: Gurashi bobs his head slowly to himself, repeating the phrase several more times.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Beauty is the nature of the very forest."

You think to yourself: Feel inspired by impossible in times when friends are far and few, inspired by impossible in times when friends are far and few...

You have emoted: Gurashi bobs his head slowly to himself, repeating the phrase several more times.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "So everything that has beauty is only ever compared to Your beauty Lady Viravain."

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "You are correct, Esri. The Glomdoring is Mine, and the Wyrd is Me. And beauty is the scythe that harvests the weak, blood-soaked and nourishing. Thank you, child."

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Anything for you My Lady!"

You think to yourself: She is the Lady of the Glomdoring! -Answer Her-.

In a moment of negligible disdain, Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales has amended Their Will regarding the state of Zeebin's existence.
You see the death occur at within a passage obscured by veils and stone.

You stare blankly into space.

You think to yourself: And the Shofets......

You have emoted: Gurashi's heart sinks into his stomach, and he leans against the nearest table.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Find myself ...inspired by new faces that have been among us, yes. Peoples who feel drawn to create art and write stories and do many good cultural things to honor the Wyrd! And feel inspired by the impossible, in these weird times when friends are far and few as well."

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "I wish the souls that are far away a safe return."

(Glomdoring): You say, "...many apologies for taking so long to respond. Took words literally - got confused. Am hoping You find Yourself well this day, yes yes."

You think to yourself: Was I a waffle.

You think to yourself: Did I wait.

You have emoted: Gurashi nervously reaches up to touch his cheek, then pulls his fingers away, frowning.

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Mm. When the Wyrd swallows the Basin of Life and sows seeds in the lands Indrosiril abandoned for our bounty, and when our beauty Esri spoke of blankets the First World, you will meet no one who is not of the Wyrd."

You have emoted: Gurashi furrows his brow.

You think to yourself: It has not blanketed... yet. But it is working on it yes.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Lovely words."

Viravain, Lady of the Thorns has bestowed Her divine truefavour upon you. It will last for 5 months.

(Glomdoring): Indrosiril says, "Beautiful."

You have emoted: Gurashi's gaze drifts down.

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Yes, well. I spoke them."

You think to yourself: I don't know what that means....

You have emoted: Gurashi cups his cheek with his own hand, frowning deeper.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "As is well when you speak Lady Viravian."

(Glomdoring): You say, "Many thank yous, My Lady of Roses."

You think to yourself: Do I -say- something to Her.

You think to yourself: No no.

You fret over everything that might go wrong.

You have emoted: Gurashi begins to pace about the library, head bowed.

You think to yourself: She is probably sorting through all -sorts- of things with Her order first yes.

You think to yourself: And it took so long to answer, oh gosh.

You have emoted: Gurashi wrings his hands together, pacing in a wide, fast circle around the center-most table in the library. Bizirik watches from nearby, tail slapping the ground.

You think to yourself: It's fine it's fine it's fine.

(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Remember that the mid-winter sun can still cause blooms on sickened trees. When the Wyrd has matured them, made them whole, they will flourish no matter the season. They will not need the sun, just as our trees do not."

You have emoted: Gurashi abruptly stops his pacing, coming to a stumbling halt.

You think to yourself: ...do not need the Sun...?

You think to yourself: ....

The sensation of a taloned hand pressing into your cheek, digging and clawing at you, softens to a motherly caress, and the choking roses become faint wisps upon the air. You realize as surely as you are aware of yourself that the Mistress of Thorns is pleased.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "That sounds lovely Lady Viravain."

(Glomdoring): Steingrim says, "Nothing Matters but Glomdoring."

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Glory be to Glomdoring!"

You have emoted: Gurashi clasps his hands together tightly before his chest, his posture stiff, expression hard to read. Crimson begins to seep into his cheeks and his ears, and he stares hard at a nearby shadow, swallowing.

(Glomdoring): Esri says, "Honor to Lady Viravain!"

You think to yourself: **far-away sounding** ... am understanding, my Lady Viravain.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "Indeed, Glory be to Glomdoring."

Bizirik, the leothin tilts her head curiously at you.

You think to yourself: Sorry, Friend Shulamit.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

You think to yourself: Is fine.

(Glomdoring): Indrosiril (from the Aetherways) says, "Glory be to Glomdoring!"

You have emoted: Gurashi takes a step for the door, then back inside, looking distraught.

You think to yourself: Do tell the Shofets first? Or, Friend Shulamit? Or Friend Aschwar or.

You think to yourself: It is O-K it is O-K.

You think to yourself: Xenthos said not to get hopes up! Yes, Gurashi - you did this, you silly. Of course.

The mid-winter air softens, the energy focused by the attention of the Mistress of the Thorns on the First World waning as She fades from mortal perception. All that lingers is the faint scent of roses and the distant asynchronous choir of crow song.

You think to yourself: Bye...

(Shadowlight): Xenthos (from the Astral Plane) says, "All right, let's do this then."

You have emoted: Gurashi clumsily wipes at his face, taking a deep breath. "O-K. Domoth. Then can worry about the other stuffs."

You sniff softly.

You think to yourself: Is fine.

You think to yourself: It's -fine-.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

You think to yourself: **a dreadful, suffocating shade of nothing - suppressed disappointment, deep, painful... no, be grateful. be glad**

The world tilts as you sense Xenthos challenge the Domotheos of Nature.

You narrow your eyes to thin slits.

You nod your head emphatically.