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* Plot Information for Dharo

The intrigue that drives, and plagues, the Territory of Dharo has built and destroyed empires throughout the Territory; and everyone is eager for political power. The reign of Rheava Evesham has been challenged by these power struggles and even more so by the undercutting of power in her Court. The game of politics had bred the need for Spies within the Territory and they have become the backbone of the Queen's reign.
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Author Topic: Walking in a Cymrean Wonderland  (Read 71 times)

Description: Attn: All of Emma's Court, Jorie is planning a Winsol party and you're all invited!

Offline Jorie Hardy

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    • yellow2rose
    • priestess
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Walking in a Cymrean Wonderland
« on: Dec 31, 17, 11:40:52 PM »
Jorie hummed happily to herself as she hung another garland of greenery and began wrapping the length of it along the trim of the fireplace in the great hall.  Winsol was always a favorite season of hers, in spite of everything that had occured.  She was the blessed mother of two precocious and precious year old children, who had recently discovered the joys of having their feet beneath them and took every opportunity to rush around testing the limits of those legs and their ability to stop before colliding into solid objects and people. 

Most of the staff adored them and had become quite adapt at maneuvering around their teetering runs without tripping or being delayed in their own dealings.  Not that Jorie gave the twins much of a chance to get in anyone's way, but here in the Great Hall, there was room enough for staff and children to accomplish both of their tasks without too much in their way.  The twins adored the flickering candles that lit up the chandelier, and the new task of “helping” with the setting of the greenery all around the residence.  Of course, Morgan decided to see if it was edible, as he was at the age where everything had to be tested in his mouth for flavor, while Rowen liked to touch everything, running her hands over for texture and feel.  It was amazing to watch the way their little minds puzzled and worked through every new thing their minds encountered.

Jorie had volunteered to help the staff in setting up the greenery around the residence, enjoying the fresh scent of the pine as it filled the halls.  It wasn’t something that took time away from her duties, on the contrary she saw it as part of her duty as High Priestess, seeing to the blessing of the Greens as they were laid about, as decoration and as a reminder of the gifts of the past season and the hope of a brighter and greener next year. 

A giggling squeal of happiness caught her attention and she turned to see Morgan and Rowen toppled over in the middle of the floor, Morgan’s arms around Rowen’s middle as he apparently had pulled her down to the floor with him, her daughter enjoying the play in a very loud loud voice.  Rowen had certainly grown into her own sound, often overshooting her peels of excitement over Morgan, and as her son had a healthy set of lungs himself, that achievement was noteworthy.

Over all, she could not be happier.  Her children were healthy and loving and happy.  Her Queen was honorable and solid and good, with hopes and dreams for the rest of Cymrea and her commitment to working with her court and the people of her district into making long hoped for dreams into reality.   There was just one thing….

That one thing walked into the Great Hall, arms full of more boughs of greenery to be hung.  She had told him he didn’t need to help her with this, but of course, he had insisted.  Rowen let out a shreek of excitement at the sight of him, as if she hadn’t just seen him a few minutes before and struggled to pull free of her brother’s grip to run to her favorite person in the whole world and Jorie could admit that with a mother’s resignment that Simon had indeed shadowed her in her daughter’s affections.  Not that she could honestly blame Rowen.  He was a good man, with a golden heart, and while she might not vocally echo her daughter’s sentiments, there was something inside her that let out the same excited cry when he came within her sight.

If only she could just take Emma’s advice and do something about it.

Offline Godfrey Craig

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    • pd2green
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Re: Walking in a Cymrean Wonderland
« Reply #1 on: Jan 01, 18, 04:23:01 PM »
Winsol.  The most wonderful time of the year, as far as he was concerned.  The time when the old was celebrated, and then laid to rest, so that the new could be reborn of the ashes.  He had spent most of the day searching out the perfect tree to serve as the sacrificial log, the representation of the year's accomplishments and heartaches.

An old family tradition, and not one that every family followed.  Still - this was his tradition, and so he was going to follow it.  It had taken hours to find the perfect tree - one that was in the process of dying but had not quite made it yet.  He'd assisted it, chopping with physical strength and axe alone.

That had taken a few hours as well.  It was a fine, solid piece of wood.  Then he'd gone about chopping it down to what he'd needed for the log, and cut the rest of it into serviceable pieces for the Court's use.  He'd spent most of that afternoon delivering those pieces to the Servants so that they could spread them throughout the Court as they saw fit, and then.. then he'd returned to his prize to bring it to the main hall himself.

Which was how he appeared, a large man with a bit of snow clinging to his hair and beard while he hefted a large log over his shoulder.  Like some myth of their people come to life.  IT took him a moment to realize the small dashing and wobblign shadows were children, and it had him laughing as they came tumbling closer.

"Hold little ones.. let me find a good place to set this aside first."  He grinned, deftly stepping around them to find a place near the hearth where he could lay the log before turning and scooping one precocious monster up into the air.  "And how are we this fine day, little Princeling?  Hrm?"  He grinned, looking around for the boy's sister.  Ah, over near Rowen.  He hadn't had time to get to know the male too well.. or most of the Court, for that matter. Oh, he knew their faces and their names - but Emma had kept him fairly busy with property acquisition and... scheming.

And bedding.  Which he did not mind one bit.

Mostly so that they wouldn't crawl all over the log, which he hadn't sanded yet.  He'd feel terrible if they got splinters.  "You are the Lady Hardy's little monster, aren't you?  Now where is your mother?  All little Princely Monsters deserve a cookie for being so observant of impressive sights."