Naynay - Revision history

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Dm at 20:05, 31 July 2020

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Dm at 19:54, 31 July 2020

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Dm at 19:52, 31 July 2020

2020-07-31T19:52:35Z

Dm: Created page with "I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtl..."

2020-07-31T15:58:44Z

Created page with "I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtl..."

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I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtlety and delicate complexity of it all. Perhaps neither can I, or I would not be in the Grey Lands with you snuffling trufflers. All that matters is that my doom is here, that I endure the thrumming ache of existence among you. I will find a way back, I have to believe that or an ocean of wine will not keep the Faceless from consuming me.

My first home here was Hupperdook. They light the sky on fire with sulpher and ash but the colors they make are so beautiful they push away the crushing black for a while.

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 My first home here was Hupperdook. They light the sky on fire with sulpher and ash but the colors they make are so beautiful they push away the crushing black for a while.
-**Notes**
+*Notes
 [2:41 PM]Happyman: The cow tail felt fun

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 I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtlety and delicate complexity of it all. Perhaps neither can I, or I would not be in the Grey Lands with you snuffling trufflers. All that matters is that my doom is here, that I endure the thrumming ache of existence among you. I will find a way back, I have to believe that or an ocean of wine will not keep the Faceless from consuming me.
-Should you find yourself in the Feywild, you might be unlucky enough to wander into a deep mire and stumble upon a splendid city of wrought wood with streets paved in supple grass. All through the grand colonnade you will find statuary of revelry and joy beyond measure. All up the steps of the Great-house you will see equally beautiful works of art depicting Fey folk caught frozen in terror. At the top of the steps you will find the most regal Leonine ever known, blade drawn, captured in a ferocious charge that is awe inspiring and tragic. This lost figure is Kaiber Skothic. The news of his death brought fair Tatiana to tears and ushered in a Fey Winter nine years long before the Summer Queen would return to the field of battle. With such profound grief, you can imagine the faerie rage that the Lady would bend for the fool of an Aegagri who permitted the Black Rider to pilot her Gorgon Chariot into the city and take so many souls for her own. Imagine a Satyr so blind drunk that the Eyes of Medusa would not work on her. Surely the path to forgiveness for that one is long and paved in razored glass. Probably have to crawl on your belly. While it rains lemon juice.
+Should you find yourself in the Feywild, you might be unlucky enough to wander into a deep mire and stumble upon a splendid city of wrought wood with streets paved in supple grass. All through the grand colonnade you will find statuary of revelry and joy beyond measure. All up the steps of the Great-house you will see equally beautiful works of art depicting Fey folk caught frozen in terror. At the top of the steps you will find the most regal Leonine ever known, blade drawn, captured in a ferocious charge that is awe inspiring and tragic. This lost figure is Kaiber Skothic. The news of his death brought fair Tatiana to tears and ushered in a Fey Winter that lasted for nine years before the Summer Queen would return to her throne. With such profound grief, you can imagine the faerie rage that the Lady would stoke for the fool of an Aegagri who permitted the Black Rider to pilot her Gorgon Chariot into the city. Imagine a Satyr so blind drunk that the Eyes of Medusa would not work on her. Surely the path to forgiveness for that one is long and paved in razored glass. Probably have to crawl on your belly. While it rains lemon juice.
 What was that? Oh I apologize, I must have gotten lost in thought. I should move on.
 My first home here was Hupperdook. They light the sky on fire with sulpher and ash but the colors they make are so beautiful they push away the crushing black for a while.

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 I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtlety and delicate complexity of it all. Perhaps neither can I, or I would not be in the Grey Lands with you snuffling trufflers. All that matters is that my doom is here, that I endure the thrumming ache of existence among you. I will find a way back, I have to believe that or an ocean of wine will not keep the Faceless from consuming me.
-Should you find yourself in the Feywild, you might be unlucky enough to wander into a deep mire and stumble upon a splendid city of wrought wood with streets paved in supple grass. All through the grand colonnade you will find statuary of revelry and joy beyond measure. All up the steps of the Great-house you will see equally beautiful works of art depicting Fey folk caught frozen in terror. At the top of the steps you will find the most regal Leonine ever known, blade drawn, captured in a ferocious charge that is awe inspiring and tragic. This lost figure is Kaiber Skothic. The news of his death brought fair Tatiana to tears and ushered in a Fey Winter nine years long before the Summer Queen would return to the field of battle. With such profound grief, you can imagine the faerie rage that the Lady would bend for the fool of an Aegagri who permitted the Black Rider to pilot her Gorgon Chariot into the city and take so many souls for her own. Imagine a Satyr so blind drunk that the Eyes of Medusa would not work on her. Surely the path to forgiveness for that one is long and paved in razored glass.
+Should you find yourself in the Feywild, you might be unlucky enough to wander into a deep mire and stumble upon a splendid city of wrought wood with streets paved in supple grass. All through the grand colonnade you will find statuary of revelry and joy beyond measure. All up the steps of the Great-house you will see equally beautiful works of art depicting Fey folk caught frozen in terror. At the top of the steps you will find the most regal Leonine ever known, blade drawn, captured in a ferocious charge that is awe inspiring and tragic. This lost figure is Kaiber Skothic. The news of his death brought fair Tatiana to tears and ushered in a Fey Winter nine years long before the Summer Queen would return to the field of battle. With such profound grief, you can imagine the faerie rage that the Lady would bend for the fool of an Aegagri who permitted the Black Rider to pilot her Gorgon Chariot into the city and take so many souls for her own. Imagine a Satyr so blind drunk that the Eyes of Medusa would not work on her. Surely the path to forgiveness for that one is long and paved in razored glass. Probably have to crawl on your belly. While it rains lemon juice.
 What was that? Oh I apologize, I must have gotten lost in thought. I should move on.
 My first home here was Hupperdook. They light the sky on fire with sulpher and ash but the colors they make are so beautiful they push away the crushing black for a while.

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:52, 31 July 2020
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		+	Your people name us Satyr, the obscene ones. This was a prank, one of the few times that the Eladrin bested us at jokes. We carry it proudly, as to be offended would make the joke funnier for them and it will not be said that we are more humorless than the Nipplefolk. If you would show us respect you may call us Aegagrus, if you can even fit that many vowels in your mortal mouth at once.
		+
	I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtlety and delicate complexity of it all. Perhaps neither can I, or I would not be in the Grey Lands with you snuffling trufflers. All that matters is that my doom is here, that I endure the thrumming ache of existence among you. I will find a way back, I have to believe that or an ocean of wine will not keep the Faceless from consuming me.		I came through the Fey to this dead place. Not of my own will. What I did there does not matter to you mortals, you cannot comprehend the graceful joy of the Lenaia, the subtlety and delicate complexity of it all. Perhaps neither can I, or I would not be in the Grey Lands with you snuffling trufflers. All that matters is that my doom is here, that I endure the thrumming ache of existence among you. I will find a way back, I have to believe that or an ocean of wine will not keep the Faceless from consuming me.
		+
		+	Should you find yourself in the Feywild, you might be unlucky enough to wander into a deep mire and stumble upon a splendid city of wrought wood with streets paved in supple grass. All through the grand colonnade you will find statuary of revelry and joy beyond measure. All up the steps of the Great-house you will see equally beautiful works of art depicting Fey folk caught frozen in terror. At the top of the steps you will find the most regal Leonine ever known, blade drawn, captured in a ferocious charge that is awe inspiring and tragic. This lost figure is Kaiber Skothic. The news of his death brought fair Tatiana to tears and ushered in a Fey Winter nine years long before the Summer Queen would return to the field of battle. With such profound grief, you can imagine the faerie rage that the Lady would bend for the fool of an Aegagri who permitted the Black Rider to pilot her Gorgon Chariot into the city and take so many souls for her own. Imagine a Satyr so blind drunk that the Eyes of Medusa would not work on her. Surely the path to forgiveness for that one is long and paved in razored glass.
		+
		+	What was that? Oh I apologize, I must have gotten lost in thought. I should move on.

	My first home here was Hupperdook. They light the sky on fire with sulpher and ash but the colors they make are so beautiful they push away the crushing black for a while.		My first home here was Hupperdook. They light the sky on fire with sulpher and ash but the colors they make are so beautiful they push away the crushing black for a while.