Winter Begins - A Spirit Festival - RPLOG
Participants
Date
7/10/479
Log
The strange, personally addressed invitations to this mysterious party must have truly flooded Firmament. Beings of all shapes, sizes and groups have dug out or made costumes and masks to attend. The promised transportation turned out to be a whole fleet of black painted carriages to carry the flood of beings that are inexplicably willing to make their way to the fallen city of Mossy stone. The dark, cracked walls loom up ahead as the black clad, silent coach drivers drop off their passengers at the broken gates.
The coach ride was creepy enough, but now the dark edifices of the ruins loomed before them. It was enough to send a shiver down Galve's spine, and he pulled his cloak closer around him. He hadn't found any kind of costume so he had arrived in naught but his usual garb and a black traveling cloak, under which he had brought some of his other equipment. Mostly his medical bag and the sword that he'd been given by the Freeswords, and not much else.
Shira is staring out of the window of the carriage she is riding in, wondering what this could all be about. Either way it sounds like an opportunity for new experiences or adventurer, regardless of how it plays out. Speaking of playing. The mouse is in costume, a frilly dress and marry jane's, as well as white stockings, combined with several joints painted in black on her white fur give the mouse the appearance of a doll, an effect that is further enhanced by her small size.
A figure dressed up in what looks to be a simple set of chainmail armor soon steps out of one of the carriages, his masked gaze scanning over the scene before him as he does so. Lidara had certainly made sure to dress up, the chainmail armor accompanied by a white cloth with red trimmings that draped over his back and chest, all the way down to his knees on each side, and had the insignia of the Graceful Clan on the center of the front, also in red. A white cape with a hood accompanies that, and a mask of the same color covers the top half of his muzzle. The only part of his orange fur that's actually left visible now is his chin and neck.
The shattered gates hang open and nervous beings in a remarkable assortment of costumes mill around the gate in the fading afternoon sun, all waiting for someone else to be the first to enter the haunted ruin. The carriages have all dropped off their passengers and driven on.
"Why would we even do this?" a skunk in a raggedy wedding dress asks, eyeing the gate fearfully, "I can't believe I have come out here." But still, she doesn't leave. The gates stand silent and watchful. Strangely, there is no sight, sound, or sign of the moaning, shambling undead of Mossy Stone.
Glancing at the skunk, Galve is having the same second thoughts about the situation. Drawing his cloak close, he looked into the fading sunset with concern.
Shira is, as always, not intimidated by anything and is the first one to pass through the gate, she turns around on her heels and gives the beings around her a confident smile, after being a few feet in. "Whats the worst that could happen!" She crosses her arms behind her head and turns again, taking the lead and following the path.
Lidara shifts around uneasily for a moment once he's able to take in the gate as well as the church before them, his hand going back to fiddling with something hidden under the cloth draped over him as he does so, that being a dagger he has tucked away. Just in case. Once that little mouse steps forward and starts to lead the way though, he can't help but smile and shake his head a bit... before moving forward to walk just behind her.
There is a polite cough and Shira walks straight into the arms of a huge crocodile who grins down at her. "Welcome, guests," he says in a sternum shaking, deep voice with an evident Isharan accent, "The White Lady welcomes you to her city and extends her hospitality." the Croc wears only a pair of ragged trousers and a loose, open vest. His dark scales are polished to a high gloss and his face is painted in the pattern of a skull. He holds out his arm to Shira. "Why don't all of you just come with me," he says with a toothy grin, going to lead the way, preferably with the dolled up mouse on his arm.
Beyond the gates, the streets are clear and empty. Lanterns have been strung along the route toward the old church and garlands of paper and black and white decorations with a distinct skull motif litter the way.
Proceeding to follow the gator, Galve was on high alert as he followed, nervously glancing in almost every possible direction.
Shira squeaks as she is picked up. "Hey now! At least ask first, Mister!" She does not bother struggling free of the crocodile's grip though, figuring that she might as well be carried, if she is dressed as something usually inanimate. She does however squint around. She had never been here before, but she heard stories about this place. The total lack of shambling corpses was both disappointing and suspicious.
Lidara immediately stops in his tracks upon hearing the crocodile, his stance lowering slightly and his hand immediately going backwards to his hip, though not quite to his hidden weapon. But, it only takes him a second to realize that there's no immediate danger, at least, the cat quickly standing up straight again and letting out a held breath, as well as giving the croc an apologetic look, of course. Once he starts to lead the way, the costumed feline simply follows behind him, his gaze flicking about to curiously examine the area all the while.
"Can't help it, Cher," the Croc rumbles, "You were just too cute to pass up." Now that there seems to be some kind of guide, the imaginary dam at the gate breaks and the living flood into Mossy Stone for the first time in many years. The place is still obviously a ruin, of course, evidence of the empty years stares back from ruined homes and storefronts, but the lanterns and decorations do much to lift the gloom. It almost seems like a set stage instead of the site of a terrible tragedy.
The Church, however, is an exception. Someone has been hard at work, rebuilding the old structure. Gothic spires reach toward the heavens and imposing gargoyles stare down at the approaching revelers. In front of the rebuilt structure is a beautiful statue of a winged creator woman wearing a helmet shaped like a skull. This must be what the invitation meant when it said the Cathedral of Pyrrha.
"Well... They took the creepy church and made it even more creepy. I had no idea such a thing was possible..." Galve grumbles to nobody in particular. Now he felt out of place, no costume to wear.
Shira eyes the church up and down, this was certainly more impressive than she expected. She tears her eyes off the building and looks up at the crocodile holding her. "Fine, just be careful with the costume and makeup, I suppose." She elongates the i of fine as she says it, not sure what to make of all this, still. Would Pyrrha herself be here, what is her plan? Maybe everything would actually be as harmless as it seems.
