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8:17 PM
Who: Everyone
Where: In the Sacred City
When: King’s Year 199, Mid Winter to Late Winter
What:
[The days pass. The sun, gentle and warm, takes its steady course across the sky. Many marvels have sprung into the world. The library to the east starts filling with books from every place who had room on their wagons for them. The forges fill with craftsmen. The temple receives offerings and sacrifices of burned meat and sacred mementos regularly. The Arena is a favored place of Pyxis who wish to forget the limits of the land they're in. Those who've the know-how have begun to till the land and found it fertile. And in the north, some have begun making a shrine to the recovery of the Old Man. Docks have begun to be built upon the great lake, and most have delighted to find that the vegetation here regrows at a miraculous pace.
... Life continues on.
But not without its sorrows or its signs.
Hit hardest were the some of the order of Ophiuchus... the priests of the sea wept openly at something only they could hear as their amulets broke and shattered with the hiss of evaporating water. At the sound, the few priests who remain of the Daughters of the Sky, Gentlest of Lights looked up with dead eyes, saw no sign of their patron in the miraculous sky, drew curved crescent daggers from their sheaths. The forests. The plains. Minor spirits. ... By the madness of many and the deaths of more... what was not here, IS truly gone, and many whom were so blessed are now cursed. Though many people take heart in the fact that most of the Order of Ophiuchus remains still, true and deeply connected with their God, soothed by their presence.
And perhaps the most disturbing feeling rumors have come from the earth shamans of Canis. That they cannot shake the feeling that we are not where we were.
That we are deep.
....
The sun rises, gentle and warm. The grass is soft below your feet and the aroma of wildflowers brushes past your nose.
The wind blows softly, bringing a cool touch to your skin.
It is another day, life continues on.
((OOC: Use this how you like! Day in the life, information pooling, playing out what your people are doing in this time! Just whatever threads!
As a headsup, history posts, both pre cataclysm and after can be made through Thursday only! Backthreading IN them of course will be okay as long as anyone likes but nothing new after then!
As a reminder, we are wrapping up on Thursday!))
Where: In the Sacred City
When: King’s Year 199, Mid Winter to Late Winter
What:
[The days pass. The sun, gentle and warm, takes its steady course across the sky. Many marvels have sprung into the world. The library to the east starts filling with books from every place who had room on their wagons for them. The forges fill with craftsmen. The temple receives offerings and sacrifices of burned meat and sacred mementos regularly. The Arena is a favored place of Pyxis who wish to forget the limits of the land they're in. Those who've the know-how have begun to till the land and found it fertile. And in the north, some have begun making a shrine to the recovery of the Old Man. Docks have begun to be built upon the great lake, and most have delighted to find that the vegetation here regrows at a miraculous pace.
... Life continues on.
But not without its sorrows or its signs.
Hit hardest were the some of the order of Ophiuchus... the priests of the sea wept openly at something only they could hear as their amulets broke and shattered with the hiss of evaporating water. At the sound, the few priests who remain of the Daughters of the Sky, Gentlest of Lights looked up with dead eyes, saw no sign of their patron in the miraculous sky, drew curved crescent daggers from their sheaths. The forests. The plains. Minor spirits. ... By the madness of many and the deaths of more... what was not here, IS truly gone, and many whom were so blessed are now cursed. Though many people take heart in the fact that most of the Order of Ophiuchus remains still, true and deeply connected with their God, soothed by their presence.
And perhaps the most disturbing feeling rumors have come from the earth shamans of Canis. That they cannot shake the feeling that we are not where we were.
That we are deep.
....
The sun rises, gentle and warm. The grass is soft below your feet and the aroma of wildflowers brushes past your nose.
The wind blows softly, bringing a cool touch to your skin.
It is another day, life continues on.
((OOC: Use this how you like! Day in the life, information pooling, playing out what your people are doing in this time! Just whatever threads!
As a headsup, history posts, both pre cataclysm and after can be made through Thursday only! Backthreading IN them of course will be okay as long as anyone likes but nothing new after then!
As a reminder, we are wrapping up on Thursday!))