TwilightWolf

Really happy to see the progress on this project you've worked so hard on! Well done!

MC Name:

         CornerianArwing

Character's Name:

         Aerendyl Hawksong

Character's Age:

         497

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Herblore

Teacher's MC Name:

         Grandfathered

Teacher's RP Name:

         Grandfathered

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

MC Name:

         CornerianArwing

Character's Name:

         Aerendyl Hawksong

Character's Age:

         496

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Transcendence

Teacher's MC Name:

         Kitsunenokage66

Teacher's RP Name:

         Damien Menrow

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

"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. 

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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.

Sorry for the late response! Got stuck at work

This is mine! 

“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!”

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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.

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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.

A Balian artist's depiction of the Island Guardian

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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.

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!

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.

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
 

This one is mine! I need to shuffle around some inactive/graduated students!

"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

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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.

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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.

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!

For the confirmation of Rochir

Enderial Hawksong

_______________________________

The symbol of Machana's Dance has been embossed into the parchment

On the first elven day of the new elven year, the House Hawksong announces the

examination and confirmation of Enderial.

Through exemplary demonstration of the bloodline's sacred art of Rochannyer,

the prospect knight of the house may earn the right to wield the

Lance of Faorarr Tahorran'len, the First Rochir, and joust for his place among the

Lances of the Rochirran. In his success he will be knighted as a Rochir of House Hawksong.

Dress code: Formal

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Itinerary

Rochannyer Demonstration

As an examination of the art of Rochannyer. The prospect knight must complete a performance to heirloom music in traditional Hawksong training to exemplary perfection to prove themselves ready to wield the lance of Faorarr.

The Joust

When the examination is passed to the standards required, a joust between prospect

and a senior Rochir will be observed.

The Ceremony

Should the prospect succeed, the Rochir will be knighted before the House and his lance will

be recorded in the House registry to stand the test of time.

The Reception

Provided by the BAYOU BEER GARDEN™, a reception for merriment, drinking, dancing

and games will take place in the tavern.

_________________________________________________________

Formal invitations are sent to the esteemed friends of the House

The Clan Mossborn of Hefrumm

The Calith Talonnii

Pamphilos and the Bronzed Lords of Sulianpoli

The Lady Snow and Lady Lynx of the Vale

The Clan Starling

Primarch Net'seth and the Clan Loa'chil

 The Norväyn Seed and their Wolven knights

Brewmistress Wyn Arvellon and Seed

Aerendyl considers actually spying to bring the writer a Krugsmas miracle! 

MC Name: CornerianArwing

Discord: Twilight#0595

Image: 

Description of Image: A sign for a druidic tavern

Dimensions: 2x2

The archdruid reads over this missive just as he was about to make an entrance onto the stage of the beer garden's holiday soiree. He flashes the whites of an immaculate smile at the penmanship of the familiar Motsham, before he adjusted his outfit for perfection with a wild drive felt in his heart.

"The hunt is on, boys." he murmurs to himself, making a point to visit the Hinterlands again as he melts into the merriment of a Yuletide festival.

An artists' depiction of the Court of the Faerie Queen

"She is the breath of life in our lungs,

the rain that both mourns the fallen and nourishes the living.

She is the kaleidoscope of colors in spring;

the heartbeat of the world.

Her name is Cerridwen, Queen of the Fae."

Mythology of the Mother Circle

Oft regarded as the orchestrater of the druidic gifts herself, Cerridwen has been a lauded symbol of motherhood, guidance, and life itself. The Mother Circle has cultivated a rich culture in reverence to the Aspect of life, and hosts many notable shrines and sacred glades dedicated to her role in the Balance. Even if she is as silent as her equal counterpart Aspect, Cernunnos, the evidence of her eternal role in the Balance is just as clear and colorful. While the Father's symbol is fire, the Mother's is water. Her seasons are spring and autumn, when the flowers and harvest are at their strongest. In the mythology of the Mother Circle, Cerridwen holds dominion over all living things, but particularly of the fae who are thought to be the richest representation of life's potential. As such, the lunar calendar is a visible symbol of Cerridwen's three eternal promises: birth, life, and decay.

The Lunar Phases and the Fae Moons

The calendar is separated into three seasons to represent the flow of life. Additionally, each Archdruid of the Grove represents a lunar season.

The Moons of Birth - Spring to early Summer, depicted as the Waxing Moon

The Moons of Life - Summer to early Autumn, depicted as the Full Moon

The Moons of Decay - Autumn through Winter, depicted as the Waning Moon

Rarely, a thirteenth moon will be visible during the lunar calendar. Known as the Fae Queen's Moon, it is believed that Cerridwen's influence over the realm reaches a crescendo at the height of the full moon, calling the wandering fae and the souls of deceased druids home to her court in the Fae Realm. Phenomena of whimsical and beautiful natural wonder are storied to emerge on this sacred night, bathing the world in the pure light of the Mother's radiance.

Depiction and Worship

The Mother Circle traditionally displays Cerridwen as a winged being of wondrous bioluminescence, crowned with wisps and butterflies. When depicted in physical means either through statues or shrines, she is also seen as a green lady with misty eyes and wild tresses of ivy. Chiefest of the sacred places within the grove is known as the Mother's Sorrow, where the Cerridwen's glowing gaze looks down upon the pool in which the Rite of Rebirth, or Attunement, is performed. Here, a descendant is born again, bathed in the tears of the Mother. Just as in the labors of childbirth, Cerridwen baptizes her newborns in both tears of joy and tears of sorrow, for even druids will too decay, and suffer the eventual toll of death. The druids of the Mother Circle believe that all life is merely borrowed from Cerridwen, and in time it must be given back.

The crying statue of Cerridwen within the Mother's Sorrow, overlooking the Attunement pool

In addition to the physical worship of the Aspect, the Mother Circle believes the Fae Queen's pure spirits, known as faeries or the fae, are the manifestation of a mother's specific lessons, cherished traits, or even enactors of the will of the Aspects themselves. While not truly worshiped in the same manner as the Aspects, they are revered as sacred beings and are sometimes claimed to be seen fulfilling phenomena in nature. The StormTreader Stags, for example, are pure white faeries of deer that are believed to the source of lightning when they crash their antlers to smite the souls of draoi or evil spirits.

"And then comes the kiss of winter, pure and silent.

They come as flurries, frozen tears of the Faerie Queen, beautiful and deadly;

and the soul is ferried onto the next rebirth."

Excerpt from the druidic Faerie Tale of the MoonMoth

Midwinter marks the rise of the Night Moon for the Mother Circle, and the arrival of the first snows that blanket the realm in frosted, shimmering powder blankets. The days become short, and long nights of cold darkness arrive in which the Night Moon is named. As the third Moon of Decay and the third cycle of the Wild Hunts of Cernunnos, the MoonMoth faeries are storied to cross into our realm and enact the Horned Lord's will of death. They are depicted as pristine white-winged moths of winter majesty, as small as mice. Disguised as an alluring, shimmering flurry of snow, they swarm the dying and sick in numbers uncountable and freeze the soul in silence. Then, the faeries steal away the dead upon winter winds and back to Cerridwen, where life is reborn during the Moons of Birth.

A painting depicting Cerridwen, the Faerie Queen with a cloak of MoonMoth Faeries

For the druids of the Mother Circle, the mythology of the MoonMoth faeries parallels with the yuletide tale of Cerridwen's winter slumber. When the Centaur King's hunts reach their crescendo, the Faerie Queen falls into a deep sleep to prepare for the Moons of Birth. It is during this time in the lunar calendar that the Mother Circle exchanges gifts and festive greetings, for the completion of the Lunar Cycle is as revered as the start. It is thought that to be selfless and generous even during a time of scarcity earns the favor of the Aspects, and ensures prosperity and rebirth when the snows eventually melt. Paramount above all is the acceptance of death, however, and the druids will often leave offerings to their dead within the garden of memories.

"You can't see it... but you can see where it's been.

It's the lightning that starts the forest fire,

or the rain that will douse it.

Fate's a funny thing... but I've seen stranger."

A Huntsman's Grimoire on the Faerie Legend of the Windrunner

One of the more abstract faerie tales regarded by the Mother Circle is the story of the Windrunner, oft depicted as either an eerie winged beast as the shadow of death, or as a guardian of the harvest boughs and abundant life. The Mother Circle druids regard this faerie as a Fae of the Wild Hunt, but more specifically one of the hunter's preservation and destruction of life. Some have claimed to be haunted by the cold eyes of the faerie after surviving a near-death experience, courting with paranoia of the thing after cheating death. Thought to be associated with the wordless will of fate within the Balance, the faerie is believed to manifest as the creeping cold of winter, or the autumn feast for the hunter. One will never give unless the other takes, as it is with the Balance and the perpetual flow of time.

The Mother Circle, during the height of the Crimson Moon's passing, a great feast is held. It is a time of thanksgiving and toasts to good health and fortitude for the coming winter, but also a day to remember those whose fates had been decided. The toll of death is best not forgotten, for the harvest of the now is seldom achieved without sacrifice. At the end of the feast, offerings are given to the sculpture of the faerie in hopes that the rejection of excess might align themselves further with the Balance, and to honor the aspect Cernunnos and his Wild Hunt. As it is in the Huntsman's Creed, the druids of the Atoll remain humble in harvest. Only when the dead have been honored and the feast concluded, the Mother Circle druids prepare for the frosts and hardship left behind from the Crimson Moon's arrival. 

The one-eyed Archdruid looks towards the familiar, towering might of the shrine. Reading the missive written by the Shaman, the elf's head nods in simple understanding while his horse carries him further into the jungle on his normal watch.

"Keep up the good fight." he murmurs to himself, and carries on his travels.

This is mine! Just need some reshuffling since my dedicant pause~

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/207207-communion-ta-cornerianarwing/

This makes me very happy. Very creative!