Journal of a Priestess.

[AnticorRifling]

Should be pearl. The oyster makes the pearl....

You don't give a queen an oyster (unless she's into chicks but then you give her a clam).

[Ormr]

I demand restitution! I was given clams! There's dirt at the middle of pearls? Sounds gross. 'A piece of grit lies at my heart'. The bed of an oyster refers to it's 'heart'. Just saying. /grin. Can go both ways. Plus, chicks dig shucking oysters at those carnival places these days.

I stand corrected! Anticor, I demand green cookies.

[Anil Ji Garg]

Overall, the Merchants Guild was most gracious host to an event I look forward to attending next year if I am around. At least now I have a better idea what trash to save for next year.

[DaCapn]

I demand restitution! I was given clams! There's dirt at the middle of pearls? Sounds gross. 'A piece of grit lies at my heart'. The bed of an oyster refers to it's 'heart'. Just saying. /grin. Can go both ways. Plus, chicks dig shucking oysters at those carnival places these days.

I stand corrected! Anticor, I demand green cookies.

Grains of sand get inside mollusks causing an irritation. To stop the irritation, the mollusk calcifies the sand which makes a pearl.

[Rue]

A disturbing dream. . .

Dream or nightmare. . . the thorn of the black rose penetrating my temple or was it the petals of it's darkness caressing my lips. I do not know. . .

I thought I laid to sleep, I know it was late, I know I am rambling I know I know . . . I KNOW. . . but the dream was so real. . .

Silver light sparkled on the air, which suddenly turned cold and drew with it an unyielding wind.

Tall and imposing, an ornate throne rose at the distant end of the room upon a dais fashioned of sanguine-veined ebon marble. Moonlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows covered in silk sheers that flutter in a cool breeze, offering a glimpse of snow covered peaks beyond and if you just turned your head right, just enough . . . the volcano mountain of Teras too. A pair of golden candelabras spread their filigreed arms toward the distant ceiling and provided a soft illumination for all under their glow.

I stood at the window, it isn't an unfamiliar place, But the fear in my heart was. The trembling in my soul foreign. I could hear his voice but could not see him.
"All our times have come."
If my flesh could of fallen off and crawled away, it would of.
"Together in entirety".
I felt so lost. I despised it. He wanted me to take His hand. He scorned me. But who was He? Who was it haunting my mind that I feared.
"Your time has come."
I felt pulled to His world. It was clear I could not go on, resistance was futile. I took several steps back. . . the windows blew open and the wind caressed my body as if it was the finest of silk. The candle flickered and the flame disappeared. The fear was gone. I felt my eyes close for a moment and when they opened He had appeared, a dark figure in this cold room with his hand extended.
"Take it"
I ran to Him, taking His hand. When we started to fly and the walls shattered. It was to late to pull back. The grip tighten. no longer his hand in mine, but the long fingers wrapped around my wrist. As I tried to fall away, feelings evolved and my screaming began, a feeling of sickness within spread. His blood and mine, the two a lump sum of one.
"We'll be fine when your body will be mine and your spirit broken."

I do not understand how quickly things changed. The grip released, I fell from flying and hit the bed where I lay sleeping, waking with a start in a colder sweat then I have ever experienced. I wondered how I was to go on for a moment. If perhaps it was time to change my ways.

It was so real, real enough that even as I write I can see the nail marks left in my wrist from His . . His? Someone’s? Something’s! grip.

I felt shaken enough to write this down. To mark it somewhere. Its been so long ago since I have done this. My life is 'normal' and I no longer felt the need to write, everything was forgotten. Happiness no longer eludes me but this dream. . . what could it possible mean?



__________________________________________________

Riddle me this:

Lives without a body, hears without ears, speaks without a mouth, to which the air alone gives birth.
What is it?

[AnticorRifling]

An echo.

[mjc]

Very impressive, Rue. I'm looking forward to more!

[Rue]

Is it time. Time is forever for all elven. So many different elven. Our differences so vast. Dark elven is not like any other elven however, especially since there are different dark elven within their own culture. There are always exception to every rule, but as a people. . . We should remain as a people and not want the approval of the Courts or the Elven of Iillistam. However, that is a Dhe'nar point of view more then Fae, and so the politics of it all goes on.

Hardly what weighs on me at the moment though. It is just a nice alternative to turn my thoughts to.

Time. It moves on, eternally. Just like the elven life. We are not meant to walk it alone. Fears must be met. The hand taken.

I have known it would happen some day, and now that it is here. I fear it and embrace it with zealous. Scared and venerable. I have agreed to marry, Sthos. The news kept quiet and untalked about till recently, when the gate draws near and the veil thins. This has always been a special time for us and now it comes again we are once more talking of vows no longer just talking but after years actually getting ready to walk the talk.

A cloaked figure delivered a skull to the gypsy, who in return gave it to the warrior she keeps company with, who in turn delivered it to Sthos. Is it the real Skull? Does it matter?

The deed is done, the choices made.

I will wear His collar and be damn with what is right or wrong. Let the circus begin.

Date to be announce and the details are being formed.

__________________________________________________ _________

I come in a variety of forms from silver to stone, I am a bottomless container for flesh, blood and bone.
What am I?

[AnticorRifling]

A ring.

[ElvenFury]

A ring.