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Like a house of cards, one blow from cavin in - Kaphiri - 2/23/2026
Dated to 3/1!
Another day, another token to the fae, another shrine, another prayer. Kaphiri seemed to cling to the hope and familiarity of his rituals these days, but he wasn't sure what good they were anymore. The plague only seemed to be getting worse, the cold gripping Mythris in it's terrible claws, the golden flame unable to be moved home in any degree. The Goldencourte's didn't seem to be returning any time soon. Their numbers seemed to dwindle. Amrei's womb remained childless, though not for any lack of trying. Kaphiri knew that fault lay solely with him; his parents tried for so, so long, and in their life had only been blessed with two litters, the first just lonely little him. So many of his prayers were to not disappoint Amrei with the same fate. She wanted a large family, and he wanted nothing more than that happy, loving future for them both.
Still, she did not swell with life, and the healer grew frustrated with himself.
He sat within Dana's Sanctuary, the echoing of the river falling into the pool from high overhead ringing in his ear and offering some small respite from his innermost thoughts. It was easier to think, here, in this the most holy of places among the kingdom. To pray, where the faelands and his God alike could hear him better. He offered his faith to both, now, and yet still remained unanswered.
What more need he give? How further did he prove his devotion?
The lightning strike changed the life he thought he would lead. He'd given his life in service to the Herd, in trying to keep his sister safe with his last breath, in staying by her side till she was taken home. Now, he was giving his second life to double piety; he'd been married, was trying for a family, living in a kingdom blessed with talking horses. Things were looking up, he knew. What more direction did he need to know he was on the right path?
But what if all that was the reward? What if asking for more just angered Them?
Kaphiri sighed, head bowed against the earth, forehead pressed to the shore and his front legs extended before him; paws wrapped in medicated bandages, the kiss of cold now permanently etched into his skin. Wind howled and whistled through the skylight, flakes of snow finding their way in despite the spray of the falling river as it cascaded down into the cave.
The Cleric's voice cracked, notes of his worship breaking in grief.
Please, oh Holy Ones, hear my prayer and grant this boon; not for me, but for Amrei. I would give anything to make her happy. To grow the kingdom of Avon, to raise new lives in the light of your glory to follow your ancient, sacred ways.
Tears slipped from his eyes. He had to keep trying, for her, for their future. His fervent whisper went on, the quiet words echoing softly around him like ancestors humming in the breeze.
I long to cherish the miracle of life for myself, when all I've known is death and sorrow. I wish to make all her dreams come true, to make her the happiest wife who ever lived, to be a good husband.
But the only answer was the murmur of his own words bouncing off the stone walls.
RE: Like a house of cards, one blow from cavin in - narrator - 3/18/2026
Rune Discovery : 「 Success - Parasite Present」
Only you know whether the Holy Ones hear. But there is, for a certainty, another listening,
There's a pause. Then,
Talk of trees sends your gaze to a single windblown one out on the hills. It's bent nearly horizontal from years fighting the arctic gales. And you see... something blue? There's a bird's nest, you realize, stubbornly clinging to the branches. And inside it... one more glimmer of hope for the future.
Even as you are offered this boon, tendrils of stymieing rage reach out on the wind. Intent upon squashing your dreams before they properly take root...
Only you know whether the Holy Ones hear. But there is, for a certainty, another listening,
Fir yiar famifir anbirn, aln lab odriral yet ali zjita, yia muk relule dre runalThe gentle voice of the Dream Visitor sounds sympathetic, almost sad.
There's a pause. Then,
Af an gile uk hoke. Dre tanek laal ulirtimal tsie tsieekYou almost feel like they're sending you some kind of hint...
Talk of trees sends your gaze to a single windblown one out on the hills. It's bent nearly horizontal from years fighting the arctic gales. And you see... something blue? There's a bird's nest, you realize, stubbornly clinging to the branches. And inside it... one more glimmer of hope for the future.
Even as you are offered this boon, tendrils of stymieing rage reach out on the wind. Intent upon squashing your dreams before they properly take root...
Parasite Event for Kaphiri
You have several options as a player when confronted with infection.
You may either
1. Choose to automatically fail in repelling the spores, becoming infected
2. Roll for infection (1d100 - 50 and under fails, 51 and over succeeds in repelling the parasite)
3. Choose to repel them, but suffer a crippling migraine and muscle weakness for two in-game weeks
You may roll on the forum or in discord’s bot channel and play out the progression of the consequences without further Narrator intervention.
Note symptoms do not manifest immediately, may take up to three days to begin, and can progress at different rates for different characters. The Blue Turtlehead flowers cultivated by Dawnbreak, Camhanaich, and Satriya can be used to suppress symptoms.
If you are already infected, this will speed up the progression of your illness.
RE: Like a house of cards, one blow from cavin in - Eppie - 3/19/2026
![[Image: Viv_EponaPost.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_EponaPost.gif)
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
She rolled a 13/100 in Discord - granny got brainworm'd
Relief, in no small measure, was a living, breathing thing in Epona's chest.
Although several of her family members had not yet arrived within Mythris, she felt peace and an unwavering certainty they would arrive in due time. They would grace her with their presence when the spider's silk of fate determined it, and not a moment sooner - she could not hang her head when there was much to do to prepare for their return.
She had not been the matriarch of the Goldencourtes by sitting around and lamenting the negative spaces - she embraced those she could fill further with her dedication and devotion in equal doses. And beneath her machinations of peace, she and Alistair forged out an existence that was imperfectly perfect. One studded with the grit of farmlife and a living spent with hands in the dirt and evenings in front of hearthfire, surrounded by the love they grew all around them. The land flourished for them, and their family grew in leaps and bounds.
All of it, or as much of it as she could hold dear to, would follow her here. She knew some of her children would stay back in Talamh, but she knew several would join her. Ffionn, Fleta, Lugh (though he was absent from their brief stint in Talamh, she felt in her heart he would join them once again), Alistair, Shiloh, and perhaps others contended they would be quick on her heels - but time when hopping through portals was an imperfect science, no less so when it was the Veil itself they swam against.
When they got here, she would ensure they settled in easily. After leaving Fable, Fox, Aisling, and the two Elysium wolves who had held down the fort in their absence, Epona made a beeline for her domain: the Sanctuary.
Things had slowed since those early days and years, but though time's hands had reshaped her into a more aged version of herself, Epona was no less driven. New stiffness in some joints would not slow her for more than a moment - she was not one to shirk her duties and hard work. That did not change just because she was in an old-new body.
But first, she wanted to view the acolytes' realm from the moon portal. She had last seen the water overwhelmed with toxins, some strange infection that made its water incompatible with sustaining life. It sought to destroy, slowly.
Her short limbs carried her through the snow-torn fields, her strides objective and purposeful. She came to a pause only when she reached the water's edge, her tasseled ears pressed forward in curiosity as she dipped her head to study the rushing waves just before they dipped into the Sanctuary's pool below ground.
It seemed, from her brief study, that the water was safe. No longer did it hum with malcontent and promise of a slow demise. She pressed a breath of relief through her pale lips before something seemed to change in the atmosphere.
Epona's slender frame went deathly still, her senses flaring to life but falling short of the innate connection she had with the world as a druid. She did not hear nature's whispers, its heartbeat as known as the one thrumming through her veins. That part of her magic had been cleaved away between worlds, but awareness threaded through her, each sunken stitch bringing her fur to stand on end and her breath to pause.
A voice lifted to the air - or perhaps it was just the wind, droning on in the lilt of speech to an overactive ear.
The wind keyed up as an ear twisted to address the world behind her. She thought she heard approaching paws and she turned toward the source - red and gold fur materialized.
Kaphiri.
A smile spanned across her muzzle; she had hoped to find the man, for she wanted to catch up on what had transpired in her absence, and to generally check in on him. She was certain it had not been an easy time for him - or the others, for that matter, but her wellness checks began with him.
As she approached him, the wind redoubled its efforts and she furrowed her brow. She had not yet noticed the blue glow from above, swaddled within the tree's branches, but something did not feel right.
Although several of her family members had not yet arrived within Mythris, she felt peace and an unwavering certainty they would arrive in due time. They would grace her with their presence when the spider's silk of fate determined it, and not a moment sooner - she could not hang her head when there was much to do to prepare for their return.
She had not been the matriarch of the Goldencourtes by sitting around and lamenting the negative spaces - she embraced those she could fill further with her dedication and devotion in equal doses. And beneath her machinations of peace, she and Alistair forged out an existence that was imperfectly perfect. One studded with the grit of farmlife and a living spent with hands in the dirt and evenings in front of hearthfire, surrounded by the love they grew all around them. The land flourished for them, and their family grew in leaps and bounds.
All of it, or as much of it as she could hold dear to, would follow her here. She knew some of her children would stay back in Talamh, but she knew several would join her. Ffionn, Fleta, Lugh (though he was absent from their brief stint in Talamh, she felt in her heart he would join them once again), Alistair, Shiloh, and perhaps others contended they would be quick on her heels - but time when hopping through portals was an imperfect science, no less so when it was the Veil itself they swam against.
When they got here, she would ensure they settled in easily. After leaving Fable, Fox, Aisling, and the two Elysium wolves who had held down the fort in their absence, Epona made a beeline for her domain: the Sanctuary.
Things had slowed since those early days and years, but though time's hands had reshaped her into a more aged version of herself, Epona was no less driven. New stiffness in some joints would not slow her for more than a moment - she was not one to shirk her duties and hard work. That did not change just because she was in an old-new body.
But first, she wanted to view the acolytes' realm from the moon portal. She had last seen the water overwhelmed with toxins, some strange infection that made its water incompatible with sustaining life. It sought to destroy, slowly.
Her short limbs carried her through the snow-torn fields, her strides objective and purposeful. She came to a pause only when she reached the water's edge, her tasseled ears pressed forward in curiosity as she dipped her head to study the rushing waves just before they dipped into the Sanctuary's pool below ground.
It seemed, from her brief study, that the water was safe. No longer did it hum with malcontent and promise of a slow demise. She pressed a breath of relief through her pale lips before something seemed to change in the atmosphere.
Epona's slender frame went deathly still, her senses flaring to life but falling short of the innate connection she had with the world as a druid. She did not hear nature's whispers, its heartbeat as known as the one thrumming through her veins. That part of her magic had been cleaved away between worlds, but awareness threaded through her, each sunken stitch bringing her fur to stand on end and her breath to pause.
A voice lifted to the air - or perhaps it was just the wind, droning on in the lilt of speech to an overactive ear.
The wind keyed up as an ear twisted to address the world behind her. She thought she heard approaching paws and she turned toward the source - red and gold fur materialized.
Kaphiri.
A smile spanned across her muzzle; she had hoped to find the man, for she wanted to catch up on what had transpired in her absence, and to generally check in on him. She was certain it had not been an easy time for him - or the others, for that matter, but her wellness checks began with him.
As she approached him, the wind redoubled its efforts and she furrowed her brow. She had not yet noticed the blue glow from above, swaddled within the tree's branches, but something did not feel right.