# Forum > Play-by-Post Games > Ongoing Games (In-Character) >  Empire 7 - The Banquet of Eternal Light

## TheDarkDM

The waters above Leriander glittered with coruscating light, the Mirrored Aurora painting an ever-changing tableau throughout the Glossian Sea.  Many inhabitants were still amazed to see it shimmering above them, and some of the busiest markets in the captial had ground nearly to a halt, converted by some unspoken agreement into viewing spaces where Mer and Lysimia alike could bear witness to this great achievement of the Shades.  Only now, a second beacon vied for the attention of the masses, as the Conclave chambers burned with a thousand iridescent lights, shimmering and warping in rhythm to the aurora above, as though the entire Glossian Sea had become one immense breathing organism of color.

Past the walls of luminous prisms, the grand chambers of the Conclave had been cleared, the thrones of the Matriarchs and the apparatus of state replaced by stages of musicians, tall portraits of Lux-Glossian glory, and at the center of the largest auditorium an immense, irregularly shaped table carved and polished from a single towering sea stack of quartz.  Lounging upon a polished mother-of-pearl couch at the center of a natural bend in the table was the Eternal Mistress Taman, her ochre scales awash with bright red bioluminescence.  Where her attire at the Glorious Rebirth had been restrained by the standards of a kucen Siren, the newly-established trade route to tropical waters had enabled her to ornament herself as her station demanded.  Blood pearls floated lazily in strands from a platinum head-dress, while lustrous bands of sea-silk reflected the light of her inner-fire until it seemed she herself was the mythical "sun."  The other Matriarchs of the Shades, exhausted by long months of Conclave and already weighed down by age, had declined to attend Taman's exercise in self-aggrandizement, but her presence filled the void admirably.

As guests arrived, led through halls overflowing with flowering fauna and glistening statuary by the curiously foreign red-armored kucen guards, Taman rose to the center of the chamber with a flick of her whip-like tail.  The smile of her needle teeth nearly as bright as the aurora above, she spread her arms wide.

"Welcome, honored friends of the Shades.  Let us celebrate together.  Let us usher in the future."

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## Minescratcher

Grand Master Martin's presence at the Banquet was wary. 

Originally, he was not even supposed to be here; many of the highest-ranking Knights claimed the risks were simply too great, though Martin managed to overrule them by an appeal to their sense of chivalry and valor. The eventual compromise meant that he was still under the guard of a full century of Inslangue Knights, about three-quarters of whom had quietly spread out into market squares and down alleys, floated above Leriander to keep an eye on anyone moving towards the Conclave chambers, or sought out the embassy of Knight Bailiff Francis Angoulême, which the delegation had not had time to visit. The remaining Knights swarmed about the Grand Master as he swam through the auditorium, stone mouth-blades tied around their necks for easy access if they should prove to be necessary. Martin himself had little expectation that they would be needed, but the recent tensions surrounding the Dupiopóli Knights' self-proclaimed protection mission and Taman's subsequent retaliation against Middish relations with the scholars of Taifre Mandala meant that even the valorous hero himself could see the wisdom in preparing for the worst. Some of the other Order Masters had been much more blunt. And there were other issues - but that was a matter for later. 

At Taman's greeting, the Grand Master merely nodded, dismissing the Knights to find the closest location to wait that would not be seen as overly rude. In stark contrast to the new Grand Matriarch's - no, "Eternal Mistress's" - ostentatious attire, Martin wore nothing but a simple band of silver about his neck. He had never gotten a good look at a kucen before, and he hung in the water before the banquet table for some time, simply observing the foreign creature.

"I thank you. It is my sincere hope that the currents of fate bring all the faithful to a peaceful future, not marred by a continuation of the recent unpleasantness." He watched for any change in the Eternal Mistress's eyes.

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## Volthawk

As always, Baran was unable to attend the banquet - the man had always considered himself too busy with administration and shaping the Union to go abroad on diplomatic missions, and in recent years his failing health has driven him to stay focused on internal matters, making sure his wishes, and the lessons about harmony he'd learned in his seclusion, were effectively passed on to his people. Normally, this would mean that representing House Hallus would fall to Lanit (his main diplomatic representative) or Pelir (the former head scientist, who pushed for all the exchanges of knowledge the Cyphiri had been involved with), but the latter was dead and the former was busy in another country. Instead, and despite the advisement of many in the House's internal council, Ashal Hallus herself, the soon to be head of House Hallus and thus the Union, has made the journey west. She'd heard pretty much everything Baran had to say, even agreed with most of it (even if her opinion on methods and aceptable means varied somewhat), and her part of the transition of power was well in hand, so she had the time to satisfy her curiosity. A lot had been happening out here, after all, and that had led to some of the Union's allies being at odds with each other, and all that was interesting enough to get a personal look. 

She did travel well-protected, though - she had the Kalan bodyguards, drawn from the Retainer Guard (the official Cyphiri military, loyal to the Union itself and the Fund that handled many matters of bureaucracy and state rather than a specific House), as all travelling senior House members did, but also the kucen. She felt it was strangely fitting, given where the new Grand Matriach was from, and perhaps would be recieved more kindly than a large Kalan force, but mainly she brought them because they were the first members of the new private force of House Hallus, after the old one was dismantled a decade or two ago. Having them listen to her wealth rather than the Fund's might come in handy if things went wrong. She was also dressed different to most of the Cyphiri present - instead of formal wear, she wore the tough clothing of the Cyphiri opportunity scout, a post she had served in for a few years when she'd just come of full age to the Cyphiri nearly a decade ago, clothing that...wasn't quite armour, valuing mobility too much for significant protection, but was more ready for trouble and if it was good enough for the roughness of life on the road it'd serve her well enough here, hopefully. She'd heard that the Ironkelp Order were coming here, and given events in the Tideswept Shelf if things led to trouble she wanted to be prepared - it wasn't a large enough force to have a major impact if mass combat broke out, but they could keep her and her people safe while they got out of there.

Those who accompanied her, however, were broadly dressed in the typical formal style that the Cyphiri wore to events like these, sleeveless flowing robes decorated in a way fitting their family or house's aesthetic style (Hallus favouring rather blunt and attention-grabbing ornamentation that often uses gold, while Ulnesh favoured simpler and more elegant designs, and Telan designs were very understated and almost practical-looking). Most of them were here for the same reason as always, being among the members of House Hallus and other families and Houses who always found themselves inexorably drawn to social events and interesting times, but some were there for business. Kyran and Wenril Pylet, for instance, a pair who had been travelling the seas since the concept of the Union Mercenary Exchange was concocted advertising the place and drawing interest its way, were here for the same reason Ashal was expecting trouble (conflict, whether physical or in the prelude to becoming physical, was good for business, after all) - that, and all things considered they'd had a good time at the Lambent Syndicate's gala some time ago and were keen to see if Taman's banquet was going to be of a similar standard (the first reason was easier to sell to the head of the family, though). Werran Ulnesh had also made time for the banquest, as he always did for events like these, always eager to listen to discussions of faith, belief and stories that seemed to often crop up at times like these, and as always he never turned down the opportunity to enjoy what was on offer while the Cyphiri were there.

When Taman makes her proclamation of welcome, it's Ashal that swims forward to reply. *"Thanks on behalf of the Union. If Lanit was here, she'd bring out the longer formal greeting that my father came up with, but, well,"* She chuckles. *"We're not the main attraction here, are we? We're mostly here to watch the show."*

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## bc56

The small delegation of Pfith drifts into the city, the venomous blue of their hides blending smoothly into the colors of festivity.
Their leader, of course, is instantly recognizable, not just for the ornamentation they wear, cords of hide, plates of metal, and innumerable gemstone studs, but for one item in particular - a diadem of shining steel, set with diamonds and one particular lump of polished stone, which glows at all times, radiating a scalding heat around its bearer. This is Ilgl, called The-One-Who-Builds, the architect of Pfilghol's wealth, and the second Witness to rule in Ghlsgtot.

"We are honored to attend, but celebration alone is hardly a reason to gather the important persons of every nearby nation. You must have a purpose in this gathering?" They doubt it. This seems like the frivolous posturing of unenlightened minds. The Witness has little time for such foolishness in the face of their greater purpose.

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## MappyPK

Teacher Kororia, no longer stranger to attending the events of a foreign culture, arrives at the Banquet fashionably early, with a small guard alongside her and a handful of advisors available at a moment's notice, if diplomacy calls for it. Smaller in size than almost every other attendee in sight, she kept mainly to herself, finding a seat next to the delegations from the Cyphiri Union and the Order, awaiting the address from the Eternal Mistress. She crosses her fins, and waits, patiently.

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## Frostwander

Duarto Alverna has aged, and not gracefully. When the merman first took up the leadership of the Costa in his early twenties, he sported an impressively athletic physique and comely features. Not two full decades have passed, but the toll on the padrino of that time is clear. His hair is thinning and streaked with white. Skin hangs in wrinkles and once-lustrous scales are dull and flaking. Deep blue veins stand out around his gills and throat. Sunken dark eyes tell of sleepless weeks. He maintains a dignified posture despite this, with some apparent difficulty.

The padrino still makes an effort to be social. He applauds as Taman makes her welcoming announcement, giving a respectful curl of the tail to the hostess. He has no eyes for the spectacle of the lights above or around, but pays keen attention to the appearance and accoutrements of the Eternal Mistress. After the celebration is underway, he makes a slow circle of the chamber, greeting each of the other delegations and guests as he comes across them. Initially he keeps to pleasantries and small talk, his voice straining through ragged gills, with a promise that any deeper discussions of state matters will be given the time it is due once the event is under way.

The other sereia of note at the gathering, though thirty years Alverna's elder, has a far more majestic bearing. Rain Loura is a successful venture financier and the head of the second most prominent costa. Acclaimed as the mind (and money) behind the expeditions Gosto G'Cor and the pacification of the gharials there, he wears his prestige with the same effortless elegance with which he is dressed. He too makes the rounds, chatting amicably.

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## TheDarkDM

*Within the Banquet*

The eyes of a Siren were disconcerting even to those accustomed to their gaze, the mirrored orbs reflecting not reality-as-was but rather reality-as-should-be to all who met them.  Dreams and desires lived in those black expanses, summoned by the eternal promise of the Siren, fed by the madness that lurked in each one's withered soul.  Long talons gestured beneficently to each of the guests as they arrived, the sound of chimes and drums quieting to allow her voice to resonate through the chamber.

"Indeed, friends, we do not gather to dwell on the unpleasantness of the past or the mistakes of our forebears.  Instead, we gather together to celebrate the infinite future.  Above use, the light and labor of thousands of my children dances across the sea.  It is a beacon, and it is a promise.  A promise that prosperity will ever smile on my Shades, and all friends of the Glossian Sea.  A promise that my warm embrace will never abandon these waters."

She smiled, the expression a strange and enticing marriage of maternal affection and predatory glee.

"We gather here to share in the first fruits of that bounty, and to pay our respects to those who made it possible."

She inclined her head towards the large drum tower that served as the Matriarchs' living quarters during Conclave.

"Alas that my good daughters found themselves too weary to attend, but their voices echo mine in jubilation."

She gave a wide sweep of her hands, and at once all attention was drawn to a parade of extravagant and exotic dishes summoned from the depths of the complex.  Conch shells overflowing with tender caviars, strips of braised flesh floating in a dense seaweed gel, whole marlin mounted evocatively on skewers, even elusive dried meats suspended in salt jelly to preserve their unique textures.  Every delicacy known to temperate waters had clearly been gathered, and beyond.  It was these foreign delicacies, strips of flesh and jelly and lustrously charred bone that Taman attacked with the greatest relish, no doubt imported at ruinous expense from the tropical waters of her homeland.

"Please, my friends, eat and make merry!"

*Without*

While the miracle of the Mirrored Aurora now cast a permanent glow over the public spaces of Leriander, it also summoned deeper shadows to its periphery.  It was through one such shadow that a lone figure darted, her furtive movements only exaggerated by the kelpweave cloak that concealed her.  It was a primitive garment, tool of the hunter's trade, and felt uniquely out of place against the city's new lustrous veneer.  Yet the mer beneath it cared little for propriety and a great deal for privacy.

Glittering eyes watched the waters around the Conclave chambers, widening in dismay as more and more representatives from temperate waters arrived to Taman's monument to narcissism.  Still, she could not blame them.  Power at the end of a shell-blade had ever been present in Lux-Glossian politics, and no outsider would have felt what she had felt in the past year.  The shift in the energy of her own and other Shades.  The terrible threat she feared.  A part of her hoped she was wrong, that stability still reigned in the Conclave.  But she had not seen her Matriarch lo these long years, and that octopus _fear_ refused to release her guts.

Lost in her reverie, the hidden figure almost missed the passing of a young middish above her, his knightly bearing unmistakable.  Screwing up the fullness of her courage, she shot upwards coming to rest in the knight's path.

"Please, sir knight!  I am in need of your assistance."

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## Feathersnow

*World Garden of the Sakura-Jin*

The Primarch only left the core of the World Garden to die, such it has always been.  And, in truth, the Gardeners had little knowledge and less interest in the announced schedule of this banquet.  But Petrix felt making an appearance was in order, as the status and regard of the World Garden was near an all time low.

So they sent a delegation.   A Levt Sage, Hamadi, ancient by Hermit Crab standards, but, after volunteering for experimental augments, briefly capable of learning as aptly as a Hermit Crab pupil and permanently able to absorb data from the parasites that made up Eusebia.  This trans-sapient polymath was joined by Librarian Migdol, himself almost as odd, nearly the only Male to become a priest, and one of the senior researchers on the project to augment Hamadi.

Migdol and Hamadi attend the banquet, vaguely embarrassed that they are minor officials when the diplomacy of other nations might view it appropriate for the Primarch or their heir, should such a one exist, make an appearance.

But they are happy enough to enjoy the bounty, most Priests encouraged to avoid delicacies and live simple lives of service.  Here, however, service required accepting what was on offer joyfully.   And they did.

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## Minescratcher

*The Banquet*




> *Within the Banquet*
> 
> The eyes of a Siren were disconcerting even to those accustomed to their gaze, the mirrored orbs reflecting not reality-as-was but rather reality-as-should-be to all who met them.  Dreams and desires lived in those black expanses, summoned by the eternal promise of the Siren, fed by the madness that lurked in each one's withered soul.  Long talons gestured beneficently to each of the guests as they arrived, the sound of chimes and drums quieting to allow her voice to resonate through the chamber.
> 
> "Indeed, friends, we do not gather to dwell on the unpleasantness of the past or the mistakes of our forebears.  Instead, we gather together to celebrate the infinite future.  Above use, the light and labor of thousands of my children dances across the sea.  It is a beacon, and it is a promise.  A promise that prosperity will ever smile on my Shades, and all friends of the Glossian Sea.  A promise that my warm embrace will never abandon these waters."
> 
> She smiled, the expression a strange and enticing marriage of maternal affection and predatory glee.
> 
> "We gather here to share in the first fruits of that bounty, and to pay our respects to those who made it possible."
> ...


The Grand Master nibbled at an unfamiliar caviar, fighting down the tension that Taman's speech had brought. "This glorious feast certainly does you credit," Martin said as he swallowed. "But I must protest your words. I do not dwell on the past, but the present. Tourmaline was not as subtle as her mistress must have wished her to be. Your words are gilded, but it seems to me that _that_ is the future you speak of: a northern sea ruined by discord and strife. If such is the prosperity promised by your Aurora, then I do not think you will find the faithful amenable." His voice remained incongruously even throughout, though more than loud enough for Ashal and Kororia to hear; the first strike in the duel of words between the hero and the mysterious foe - whether villain or antihero Martin could not yet say.

With one fin, Martin bounced another roe into his mouth. "This caviar is quite good. Where does it come from?" 


*The Streets*




> *Without*
> 
> While the miracle of the Mirrored Aurora now cast a permanent glow over the public spaces of Leriander, it also summoned deeper shadows to its periphery.  It was through one such shadow that a lone figure darted, her furtive movements only exaggerated by the kelpweave cloak that concealed her.  It was a primitive garment, tool of the hunter's trade, and felt uniquely out of place against the city's new lustrous veneer.  Yet the mer beneath it cared little for propriety and a great deal for privacy.
> 
> Glittering eyes watched the waters around the Conclave chambers, widening in dismay as more and more representatives from temperate waters arrived to Taman's monument to narcissism.  Still, she could not blame them.  Power at the end of a shell-blade had ever been present in Lux-Glossian politics, and no outsider would have felt what she had felt in the past year.  The shift in the energy of her own and other Shades.  The terrible threat she feared.  A part of her hoped she was wrong, that stability still reigned in the Conclave.  But she had not seen her Matriarch lo these long years, and that octopus _fear_ refused to release her guts.
> 
> Lost in her reverie, the hidden figure almost missed the passing of a young middish above her, his knightly bearing unmistakable.  Screwing up the fullness of her courage, she shot upwards coming to rest in the knight's path.
> 
> "Please, sir knight!  I am in need of your assistance."


Knight Lanval of the Inslangue jumped - well, floated backwards quickly - in surprise. For his part Lanval had tended to agree with the Grand Master that the fears were all a bit overblown, and he saw the whole business mostly as an opportunity for a vacation. So his eyes had been fixed on the Mirrored Aurora, and he only just barely saw the shadow racing towards him in time to avoid a collision. 

"Sorry! Yes! How may I be of assistance...." He peered at the figure shrouded by the cloak. "...lady Mer?" He hoped this was just a lost tourist, but somewhere inside he knew he would never be so lucky.

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## Volthawk

While most of the Cyphiri detachment naturally flocked to the feast, taking a particularly preference to the dishes originating from beyond the immediate area, Ashal stayed focus on...whatever it was going on between Taman and the Grand Master. It was quite entertaining, whatever it was. *"Unpleasantness of the past?"* Ashal laughs. *"Is there any particular bit of unpleasantness we're supposed to forget? Something to do with this...Tourmaline, did you say? Or are we just talking in terms of vague pleasantries?"*

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