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unfinishedlibrary2026-04-24 07:14 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-04-24 07:14 pm
maybe a hero is just what we call someone - AFTER WE BREAK, ACT 1
Who: The attendees of the Grand Festival and residents of Rivers' End
What: The Grand Festival has begun!
When: The beginning of spring, for a week long festival (OOC: April 24-Mary 7)
Where: Rivers' End, all around!
Content warnings: Mentions of Godly Death and aftermath of that; put your CWs in the headers!
The streets of Rivers’ End, or at least the main street at the center of town, is alive and bustling as the Grand Festival begins. It's a mostly human city, stone walls thick enough to blunt any siege, timber-framed houses roofed with sturdy slate, narrow cobbled streets and a central market square large enough to hold half the population. The main thoroughfare is broad and open and laden with bright colored banners, tents and stalls to welcome any and all who wish to attend (and spend coin) at the Grand Festival. The air is still crisp in the mornings but warms by midday into the warm golden welcoming of spring.
Outside its massive gates, flung open for the festival, cherry and apple orchards on the surrounding farms and settlements have exploded into pale pink and white, and the city itself has been transformed by hands determined to pretend the war amongst the gods isn't happening. Every balcony, sill and lamppost drips with garlands of flowers and ribbons, some holding stores of fireworks waiting for nightfall. Music spills from every corner, street musicians playing tunes from hymns to one of the divines to rancorous ballads meant to lift spirits and forget the pall of more recent, terrible events. There's even a pair of wooden stages hosting troupes of dancers in flowing costumes. Disregard the way people occasionally flinch as pigeons and starlings thunder into the air, stirred by firecrackers and happy barely-controlled bedlam.
As the gates are opened for the beginning of the day's festivities, a variety of new people seem to be visiting the town for the festival- including the Readers. People are excited, eager to let go of their concerns for a little while, and don't bother to pay attention or care about the influx of tourists; during the Grand Festival people come from countless kingdoms around, strangers are a given.
Of course, given that the Festival is a time to worship the gods and have them all brought together, the temples and their people can be found all around. The Temple of the Artificer is the only one on the main pathway, beautiful sculpted stone and statues of various types (wood, marble, at least one well trimmed bush), with many of the crafting guild halls surrounding it. Their people are around the entrance, some demonstrating the majesty of their craft and the power their god gives them, a spectacle in its own right.
The Temple of the Veiled Lady is by the entrances but a block or so away from the main road, the main decoration being thin drapes acting like veils for the architecture. Since their temple is not on the main road, they have what is probably best described as a booth with a rotating cast of their clerics, paladins, and layfolk- almost always with a crowd of ghosts, all of whom seem to be dancing along to whatever music is playing on the stage. (They do mostly stick to ghosts now, though children periodically try to bid for the return of the dancing zombies.)
The Temple of the Advocate is located further into the poorer area of the city, as that is where their work is most needed; it has the air of a building that is well maintained but would rather be putting food on people’s table than gild their own hall, thank you very much. It is a busy and bustling place that likely has never seen a moment’s peace, even during the festival, priests speaking with those in need and clerics administering aid and paladins running around making sure people and supplies are where they’re needed. Despite this, they too have a booth of sorts, though it is far less about spectacle and more just another avenue to offer their aid. There’s always at least one lawyer-priest there to talk through issues, and at least one paladin keeping an eye out for the children and other more vulnerable parties at the festival.
The Armoured Hound’s Chosen do not have a temple to call their own, but they can be found amongst the crowd as well. Periodically a section will be set up as some sort of fighting ring, and one of the Chosen will enter their Holy Rage, smashing through any and all obstacles to cheers and excitement without harming anything or anyone else. Sometimes they just do ridiculous strongman type tricks as well, even though they’re about the same strength as any other Chosen.
And then… there’s the Thing With Feathers’ Chosen. Having been taken in by the Advocate’s temple, they can on occasion be found lurking around their booth, what few of them there are. A few opt not to wear their raiments and therefore can vanish easily into the crowd, but the ones that do are difficult to miss. Most people seem to treat them with a mix of fear, pity, and curiosity- an unhelpful combination that mostly ends in lingering, uncomfortable stares. These Chosen are not showing off the powers of their god. If anything, they seem to be trying the best they can to pretend they’re not there.
The various temples aren’t the only ones out in force, naturally. The rest of the street is lined with merchants of all stripes, food vendors, and small performances that continue outside the main stage. Most are legitimate; some are… less so. There’s a fortune teller who claims they can communicate with the dead (and a paladin of the Veiled Lady may or may not be keeping a close eye on them), a merchant who claims to have feathers of an extinct bird (one of the Thing’s Chosen looks like they’re trying really hard not to punch him in the face), and so forth. All in all, the atmosphere is lively, light, and filled with revelry. Time for everyone to enjoy themselves!
What: The Grand Festival has begun!
When: The beginning of spring, for a week long festival (OOC: April 24-Mary 7)
Where: Rivers' End, all around!
Content warnings: Mentions of Godly Death and aftermath of that; put your CWs in the headers!
The streets of Rivers’ End, or at least the main street at the center of town, is alive and bustling as the Grand Festival begins. It's a mostly human city, stone walls thick enough to blunt any siege, timber-framed houses roofed with sturdy slate, narrow cobbled streets and a central market square large enough to hold half the population. The main thoroughfare is broad and open and laden with bright colored banners, tents and stalls to welcome any and all who wish to attend (and spend coin) at the Grand Festival. The air is still crisp in the mornings but warms by midday into the warm golden welcoming of spring.
Outside its massive gates, flung open for the festival, cherry and apple orchards on the surrounding farms and settlements have exploded into pale pink and white, and the city itself has been transformed by hands determined to pretend the war amongst the gods isn't happening. Every balcony, sill and lamppost drips with garlands of flowers and ribbons, some holding stores of fireworks waiting for nightfall. Music spills from every corner, street musicians playing tunes from hymns to one of the divines to rancorous ballads meant to lift spirits and forget the pall of more recent, terrible events. There's even a pair of wooden stages hosting troupes of dancers in flowing costumes. Disregard the way people occasionally flinch as pigeons and starlings thunder into the air, stirred by firecrackers and happy barely-controlled bedlam.
As the gates are opened for the beginning of the day's festivities, a variety of new people seem to be visiting the town for the festival- including the Readers. People are excited, eager to let go of their concerns for a little while, and don't bother to pay attention or care about the influx of tourists; during the Grand Festival people come from countless kingdoms around, strangers are a given.
Of course, given that the Festival is a time to worship the gods and have them all brought together, the temples and their people can be found all around. The Temple of the Artificer is the only one on the main pathway, beautiful sculpted stone and statues of various types (wood, marble, at least one well trimmed bush), with many of the crafting guild halls surrounding it. Their people are around the entrance, some demonstrating the majesty of their craft and the power their god gives them, a spectacle in its own right.
The Temple of the Veiled Lady is by the entrances but a block or so away from the main road, the main decoration being thin drapes acting like veils for the architecture. Since their temple is not on the main road, they have what is probably best described as a booth with a rotating cast of their clerics, paladins, and layfolk- almost always with a crowd of ghosts, all of whom seem to be dancing along to whatever music is playing on the stage. (They do mostly stick to ghosts now, though children periodically try to bid for the return of the dancing zombies.)
The Temple of the Advocate is located further into the poorer area of the city, as that is where their work is most needed; it has the air of a building that is well maintained but would rather be putting food on people’s table than gild their own hall, thank you very much. It is a busy and bustling place that likely has never seen a moment’s peace, even during the festival, priests speaking with those in need and clerics administering aid and paladins running around making sure people and supplies are where they’re needed. Despite this, they too have a booth of sorts, though it is far less about spectacle and more just another avenue to offer their aid. There’s always at least one lawyer-priest there to talk through issues, and at least one paladin keeping an eye out for the children and other more vulnerable parties at the festival.
The Armoured Hound’s Chosen do not have a temple to call their own, but they can be found amongst the crowd as well. Periodically a section will be set up as some sort of fighting ring, and one of the Chosen will enter their Holy Rage, smashing through any and all obstacles to cheers and excitement without harming anything or anyone else. Sometimes they just do ridiculous strongman type tricks as well, even though they’re about the same strength as any other Chosen.
And then… there’s the Thing With Feathers’ Chosen. Having been taken in by the Advocate’s temple, they can on occasion be found lurking around their booth, what few of them there are. A few opt not to wear their raiments and therefore can vanish easily into the crowd, but the ones that do are difficult to miss. Most people seem to treat them with a mix of fear, pity, and curiosity- an unhelpful combination that mostly ends in lingering, uncomfortable stares. These Chosen are not showing off the powers of their god. If anything, they seem to be trying the best they can to pretend they’re not there.
The various temples aren’t the only ones out in force, naturally. The rest of the street is lined with merchants of all stripes, food vendors, and small performances that continue outside the main stage. Most are legitimate; some are… less so. There’s a fortune teller who claims they can communicate with the dead (and a paladin of the Veiled Lady may or may not be keeping a close eye on them), a merchant who claims to have feathers of an extinct bird (one of the Thing’s Chosen looks like they’re trying really hard not to punch him in the face), and so forth. All in all, the atmosphere is lively, light, and filled with revelry. Time for everyone to enjoy themselves!
2b - the fortune teller
"Interesting how so?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
He sighed and shook his head before facing him fully, a hint of gold behind the dark lens of his glasses. "You wish for me to tell you your fortune? Or that of another?"
no subject
"You are a fortune teller yourself?" Sancho says, mildly surprised. "Hm. Then what would having my fortune told entail? Do you also speak with the dead?"
no subject
But at the certainty of speaking with the dead, the slight smile that never really faded from his lips twisted, and he expression - as much as it could be seen behind his dark glasses - look almost revolted. He turns his head and makes a pei! sound, one hand raised in a averting motion.
"The d..? No, oh, no! The dead is best left alone. They are not forces that someone should wake for... fortune? No."
A shake of his head as he looks over his glasses and for a brief moment one could see the solid gold color of them, and what might be a green leaf of something growing over it.
"I understand that different places have different ways, but where I am from? We do not ask the dead for anything but to remain at peace."
no subject
"It's certainly not something one should do lightly," he admits. "But we who serve the Veiled Lady have found the dead often wish to give their own testimony in situations where their voice might otherwise have been lost."