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About TwilightWolf

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    Queen of the Argh
  • Birthday 02/26/1995

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  1. A humble invitation is hung on noticeboards around settlements in the Enchanted Forest and Druidic Circles. Come join the Underlight Grotto as the final of the Fae Moons pass, and we welcome the arrival of the next lunar year! Named for the first full moon during spring's first emergence from winter, or the Season of Birth, the annual festival indulges in a time of music, dancing, and craftsmanship with the lauded Kuila Crystals of the realm. As the second annual gathering, the theme has been decided; the dress attire will be inspired by the very crystal the corresponding faerie tale the festival honors! In folklore from the chroniclers of the fae, the Aspect Cerridwen awakens from her winter sleep at the height of the first full moon of the lunar calendar. From her chrysalis hidden deep in the Fae Realm, she emerges and heralds the arrival of warm spring air and green revival. Likewise, Cerridwen's Devoted of the Mother Circle celebrate this tale with the yearly festivities: A flower dance in which the seeds of wildflowers are sown while enjoying jubilant music, an open air market featuring artisans from around the realm, a dress competition, tiva crafting, and performances featuring the Druid Bard and his trusty living banjo! Come spend an evening with the Grotto at the beachside meadow! Vendors send a letter via the aviary to Aerendyl Hawksong to have space reserved for a booth. [[ OOC: Sunday, February 25th at 6:30 pm EST. IGN CornerianArwing for inquiries.]]
  2. The Timberwolf Druid left the grotto in a sleepless rush, keeping the memory of the unusual vision fresh in his mind. He disappeared into the wilds, beginning the long journey to the West.
  3. Between the moments of inconsolability, a pup of the Lynx druid held his head high to the sky. He was distraught to see her go, but so proud of his haelun and teacher. One day, he hoped, he'd be able to join her in the Eternal Forest with a story to make her proud and keep her legacy alive.
  4. Far in the South, in the last vestiges of the realm untouched by ruination of the ages, a cub of the Snow Druid sat in silence on his porch. His eyes were weary and reddened with the sharp sting of sorrow. In secret he wept, away from his students, his friends, and even his wife, only emerging when the elflord could swallow back the heartbreak that dug its sharp nails into his spirit. From the moment of revelation that his other haelun, Tailesin, was to trade her life for the balance, he knew in his heart that Liri would follow, somehow and someway... It was something that he hoped he would be brave enough to do one day if it were him or Nemea. Seeing the worldly body of his mother age faster than his own gnawed at his heart more than he'd liked to admit, but he never dared to share this with her in life. He recalled the cool nights in the Moonlit Forest they'd share together, the way that she'd brew his tea extra sweet as he loved, and listened to his music with joy and a motherly smile. She was one of the few that that faith in him when he did not have any for himself, and from her guidance he emerged a Sage. How he missed how nature seemed to sing a lullaby in her presence, and the mortal realm felt a little less dim without the Snow Druid. Knowing that she'd gently scold him for overly lingering upon the sorrows of the present, he shakily picks a tune on his living instrument. He sang in prayer and in thanksgiving to the Aspects for the realm of eternal rest and never ending joy, even if his typical golden voice cracked in barely contained weeping. "Aspects... I hate to see her go."
  5. Really happy to see the progress on this project you've worked so hard on! Well done!
  6. "When the moon rises in hue of strawberry, then has come the hour of the flower faerie. On beams of moonlight, they paint and dance, a springtime eve to enchant!" Excerpt from the folktale of the Wildblossom Faeries When the Crystal Moon has set, the druids of the Mother Circle pay homage to the arrival of true spring by observing one the season's more prominent faerie tales. After the Fae Queen Cerridwen emerges from her winter chrysalis, the Springmother breathes the first warm winds onto the land and blesses the dormant ground with life. Upon the perfumed breezes of moonlit nights come the Wildblossom Faeries, thought to act as the paintbrushes of the Aspect herself. The vibrant hues of spring, nearly endless in color and shape, make the living world not just a vessel of life from the Aspect, but also a reflection of her eternal beauty. Sometimes depicted as riders of springtime birds such as cardinals, robins, or hummingbirds, the faeries are believed to serve as the helpers of the Mani Kholibrii until the arrival of the next moon. _______________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________ During the passing of the Painted Moon, the Mother Circle celebrates the lunar month as one of creation and artistry. Wine and liqour is bottled with essence of spring, new clothing is sewn, performances are entertained, and the colors of the wilds are welcomed into the grove. Great care is taken to foster the growth of the blooms brought by the passing of the Painted Moon, avoiding harvest of the flowers until the time of the faeries' crossing has passed. In folklore, it is thought that those who have earned favor with the Fae Queen will discover many blooms around their house, and find their family blessed with prosperity and health. Some devout druids may choose to cultivate a certain color of flower during the season in hopes to provide their space with some living air of inspiration, such as red blooms for courage or white flowers for peace. While the Mother Circle celebrates the Painted Moon and awaits the arrival of the next, the druids offer a creation of their own to Cerridwen in hopes that when the fruits and berries of summer come, the Aspect promises a good harvest for the druids in return for their faith.
  7. “Then the world was dark and silent. Long and lonely are the nights of deep winter. Rejoice! The wind, Cerridwen’s Breath Has come to melt away the bitter cold!” ____________________________________ A painter's depiction of Cerridwen's springtime rebirth As the previous moon wanes to a sliver, the folklore of the Mother Circle stories the great rebirth of Cerridwen from her deep winter sleep. In her slumber she is veiled in the crystalline ice of the coldest nights of the year and her court empties. The turning of the seasonal wheel comes to a quiet halt; the longest night of the year swallows the realm. Then, as ever faithfully as spring comes to winter, the hand of time turns backwards. From her chrysalis, Cerridwen reawakens. The faerie tale of the Springmother is celebrated during the Crystal Moon, the first phase of the new lunar year of the Mother Circle. Through traditions and rites, the Mother Circle honors the end of the Wild Hunts of Cernunnos and embraces the Breath of the Springmother: the very wind of life that paints with bright green in a cold, grey realm. During the days of early spring, artisans set to work carving with traditional faerie stones: carved gemstones or kuila. The Crystal Moon was rumored to be so named after the phenomenon of naturally growing cave quartz or minerals, seeming to grow and bloom as a flower might. In likeness to the Fae Queen's chrysalis, the minerals are made into offerings to Cerridwen or placed around the grove to pray for a prosperous spring. ________________________________________________ The Jackelope Faerie Told alongside the rebirth of Cerridwen is the curious faerie tale of the rare Jackelope; a horned rabbit thought to be a Herald of Spring. Emerging to bring news of the Fae Queen's revival, they The rabbit of folklore breaks stubborn ice with jagged horns, leaping great bounds over the ground, the thunderous thumping of rabbits foot in the brush sowing the seeds of berries and flowers that will soon bloom and grow. A sighting is considered very rare, and is believed as a symbol of luck. While depicted as soft, innocent creatures, they are rumored to bare a voracious appetite without discretion, including prey. To see the jackelope and escape certain devouring is to embody luck itself. Particularly paranoid followers of the faerie culture might craft a rabbit's foot talisman in hopes to sway luck in their favor, and keep the Jackelopes at bay.
  8. Thank you again for the great description of Koko Mama's last stand. =)


    1. TwilightWolf


      Thank you for reading! 

    2. Mannamannaa


      Of course! And again, if you want to share the history of Koko Mama with Kor'garr IRPly we can have an interview for the Kaktuz Weekli. =)


  9. A Balian artist's depiction of the Island Guardian _________________________________________________________ It did not take the titanic palm long to garner both adoration and disdain from the realm; she was a shining beacon of hope to some, or foolish defiance incarnate to her enemies. Her name was Koko Mama, Guardian of the Barrier Islands, She Who Dances With Hurricanes. This is the story of her last waltz. A date with death itself, surrounded by the soldiers and druids that rallied around her. Bolts of fire hailed down from the mesa like crimson hail, spearing shield and entling armor as the surprised druids scrambled to defend the tropical titan. In the brief pause of shock at the surprise attack, the infiltrators prepared for another devastating and distracting volley. Far below, echoing laughter of a troll breaking their allies taunts them. The plan to paralyze Koko Mama was clever and effective, but as the battle prepared to rage on the guardian palm began her dance as she often did, with a creaking lean in the eerie stillness of wind... Then, as if a windstorm had suddenly crashed over the mountain, Koko Mama swept over the mesa with a swiftness to rival even the sieging dragon itself. Her fronds swept the crossbowmen like dustbunnies across a tile floor, bodies careening down the hillside. To the minds of the attuned, her voice was delighted and proud upon the storm she made, her supple wood spinning the elder palm in the air like the skilled twirling of a lasso. Down she came, slumping low to wallop the ground in a thunderous display of nature's fury upon the unlucky few to tumble towards her. Then, she stood tall once more, the light of sunset painting dazzling lines past her feathery fronds in the sky. It was time for her grand finale, and the druids prepared to support Koko Mama in her final act. The palm leaned back, her bark glimmering bright in her dancing dress of many shades; a kaleidoscope of colors from the four maestros of her music. Dazzling displays of druidic energies in purple, gold, red and blue painted a picturesque beacon of renewed hope for the warriors tangled with the troll far below the valley. A single coconut grew within her boughs, a massive fruit with a thick hide of green exocarp. It grew until it bent the delicate fronds, pausing for a moment whilst the team coordinated and aimed. Streaking across the sky like a comet, the valley thundered with the tremendous toss of Koko Mama's single fruit. Nearly cosmic in impact, the coconut hammers atop the stubborn troll and embeds his fat body deep into the earth. A wild cacophony of cheers erupted from the waterfalls then, the sunset and coming night seeming less hopeless. The palm twirled and twirled in the air, waltzing along the gusts of wind from her toss. And then, the sky above shattered with lightning, commanding the attention of all and silencing the brief moment of victory. The Dragon itself, veering violently towards the guardian with maw wide and screaming in horrible, apocalyptic agony trailed a wake of smoldering smoke. In the heat of battle, the artillery sent Cloudbreaker rocketing towards the palm. The tree snapped, echoing a crack so loud the heavens shook. It paled in comparison to the crack felt in the hearts that looked on in horror as the tropical titan was decapitated before their eyes. A blink later, and Koko Mama was gone from the realm. Her stump smoked in the twilight, warning of more atrocities to come... It is rumored that on the dawn of the pyrrhic victory, a golden coconut was gifted to the royals of Balian; a memorial to the palm tree that stopped the canyon troll.
  10. Deep in the twists and turns of the Underlight Grotto, an archdruid smiles. Official letters were a rare occurrence, and the elflord made sure to carefully file away the instructions of the gathering within the pocket of his robes. He recites the Huntsman's Creed, gathering his staff and hiking out of the Grotto. "May this hunt be glorious, and worthy of the Horned Lord himself." Aerendyl murmurs to himself, riding into the desert towards Balian!
  11. An archdruid leaned against the base of his companion tree, the dogwood flowers shedding petals like falling snow in the constant coastal warmth. He smiles at the tolling of the bell, turning his eyes to the brighter dawn ahead.
  12. The Rite of Rebirth The most celebrated ritual of the Mother Circle is that of Attunement, or the Rite of Rebirth. Toiling for years in the wilds and among the great druidic family, a dedicant that has successfully proven themselves will earn the chance to be presented to Cerridwen within the Mother's Sorrow. There, guide and student arrive together in the crystal waters to immerse the spirit within the crystal clear waters, symbolizing the tears the Great Mother sheds to bring the druids the miracle of rebirth; to experience the light of life through the transcendence of the soul and into the web of life. For every miracle of birth, there is death, and in those tears of understanding are druids born into this realm anew. The Lyric of Rebirth During the Rite, the lights of the grove are dimmed. The attuning druid prays to the Great Mother through song, asking for her guidance as the druid ascends into the cerulean dream. The prayer is in gratitude to the Mother for providing the blessing of sharing the gifts through rebirth and for life itself, and for her watchful eye over the life and eventual death of all of her children. This is often performed with the gift of singing, so that the newborn druid may rest easier and find comfort after attunement. For times of childbirth among the mothering druids and for when a brother or sister must be said goodbye to, the lyric is often heard in accompaniment to a similar ceremony. Kae matayna salume I experience the great life Ahaelun, mataliiyna’ito Great Mother, within my essence Nae elasirameonn myumiera You have brought Rebirth (Attunement) Fitayna, Fi’Talonnionn (You brought) New Life, New Child (Of the great family) Mawynn taliiyna’ito Great Joy is within the heart Mawynn taliiyna’ito Great Joy is within the heart Kaean ahernan ito nae We thank you Kernan’tayna For the nights of Life Kaean ahernan ito nae We thank you Karinan’tayna For the days of Life O Cerridwen, O Cerridwen Hiylu’evar, fidruii Welcome, newborn druid Kae ito Ma’Talonni I bring you into the Great Family Kae elsul salume I experience the light Ito maillern, fitaynan kaeleh’ito A miracle, a birth from me Mawynn taliiyna’ito Great Joy is within the heart Mawynn taliiyna’ito Great Joy is within the heart Kaean ahernan ito nae We thank you Kernan’tayna For the nights of Life Kaean ahernan ito nae We thank you Karinan’tayna For the days of life O Cerridwen, O Cerridwen
  13. "And now the Winter Moon settles behind the horizon. The light of the stars dim; the hour is near. Then the curtain of night swallows the skies, black and hungry. The Wolf Moon has risen, the end of the Wild Hunt is nigh." Excerpt from the faerie tale of Cerridwen's Wintersleep ______________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________ An artists' depiction of the Wolf Mani Morea swallowing the Moon The final moon of the Lunar Cycle is also the darkest time of year both literally and spiritually for the druids of the Mother Circle. Once the Moonmoth Faeries make their pass under the light of the previous Winter Moon, it is believed that they whisk away the weak and old as a flurry of a thousand pure white snowflakes; peaceful, deadly, and beautiful. As the Winter Moon sets, the final hours of the lunar year chase away the last golden rays of the winter skies, daring not to rise again until the first breaths of spring. It is when the long, frigid and hungry nights of deep winter arrive that the cold Wolf Moon rises, along with the final reaping of Cernunnos' Wild Hunt. Thought to be chiefest among the Centaur King's Huntsmen, the Wolf Mani Morea arises as a frozen shadow and swallows the lingering life not meant to recieve the Breath of the Springmother in the new year. In this, Morea is believed by the Mother Circle to be the enactor of Cernunnos' Bounty and a symbol of the inevitabilities of life; the eventual cost of death for that which is of the Balance is certain. In the Tale of Cerridwen's Wintersleep, it is storied that Cerridwen grants Cernunnos and his Wild Hunt pantheon her own bounty: the willing sacrifice of a part of herself to ensure the Wild Hunt leaves behind a healthy, strong generation to be reborn. Morea leaps from the shadow of the setting Winter Moon and swallows the last lunar phase, named the Wolf Moon after this faerie tale. Blessing given, the Fae Queen falls into a deep, death-like sleep. The warmth of the SpringMother is gone, there is little fruit and prey, and the world seems to hold its breath. In the shadows, the Packlord Morea and his IceFang faeries stalk the realm unseen, concealed beneath the shadow of the new moon and the beginning of the new lunar cycle. _____________________________________ ______________________________________ The faeries are depicted as the terrible spirit of hunger itself, with long arms and ravenously sharp claws and eyes like stars; a mirror of Cernunnos' arrows. They are the fear of those that have not accepted death, and the awful, violent fury of the hunt they have evaded for too long. On the eve of the new lunar cycle, the druids of the Mother Circle place things that are in excess, such as old trinkets, food offerings, or memories of the past year that they wish to grow and move on from. With these offerings, a bonfire is lit to destroy them in an offering to Cernunnos, the light from the pyre symbolically keeping the faeries away as they seek out the excessive and the lazy.
  14. How insightful! I love this question. I led Malinor during the switch to Anthos until my character stepped down. Currently, I'm helping to lead a little druid community in the Atoll! 1. What's your favorite part about being an NL/SL? I really enjoy getting to meet so many new people and their characters. I still chat with a lot of people that have moved on and consider them close friends, one of them even helping me land a professional script writing job for a documentary channel! 2. What's your least favorite part about being an NL/SL? In my experience I have felt a tremendous pressure to provide what I hope to be a good payout for players' investment in traveling to the place where the nation/guild/group roleplays. I figure if somebody has come out of their way to roleplay with me or my group I led, it makes sense to give them a worthwhile experience (time permitting)! Of course, this isn't a terrible thing at all, but sometimes it can feel like a 'bartender in the weeds' so to speak, juggling good roleplay but also keeping your head cool with bumps in the road AND ensuring that you're not breaking character, playing fair etc. The amount of 'stuff' nation leaders need to keep in mind is pretty mind boggling, especially now with an implemented economy system. That wasn't a challenge I faced then, or at least not nearly as tricky! In short, I suppose the best and the worst part of nation leading inherently go together. It's great to be able to help nurture and grow a community, but at the same time it's almost akin to being promoted manager of a kids' summer camp. It can be stressful! 3. What's your most prominent memory as an NL/SL? A mod accidentally world edited ALL of the snow in the North of Anthos into torches and broke the server for a considerable amount of time. 4. If you led your Nation/Settlement into a war, do you regret it and did it turn out to be fun? If yes/no, why? We were on the defense most of the time, by the time my character came along. I do not have great memories of this period. 5. Did you inherit your Nation/Settlements most of the time or build them from scratch? Or was it different each time? The first time I completed a major build for Bravepaw, then leader, was in the transition to Anthos. Then, my character inherited the throne and I've since then bounced around building for the next generation behind them. I built Luminaire, Luemalin, Caras Eldar, Irrinor and Norseth'onn to name a few, with my projects now focusing on the Atoll Grove!
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