View source for Aedariara's Last Work

<tt>You cast vortex on the prepared canvas, invoking the glyph of binding.
The canvas shimmers for a moment, before fading to its original colour.

The Feasting Hall

[Exits: none]
Aedariara is here.
A young aelin man, his wings amputated, attends the table.

<nowiki>### Aedariara's description</nowiki>

Matured.  Age has written itself across Aedariara's features.  The source
of her grace has transformed from the naivety of youth, to the focused
wisdom of eloquence and significance.  With a haughty tilt to her chin the
becoming aelin demands recognition and respect with mere posture and
appearance.  An angular face is adorned with large almond-shaped eyes, which
pry with a certain astuteness, bearing the color of an emerald lacking any
facets.  Finely curved scarlet lips lay in the midst of the sharp shapes of
her face and plaited coils of coal-black hair fall down upon her shoulder. 
Her voluptuous body compliments her petite frame as uncannily as her hair
upon her jade eyes, and yet the massive, platinum-feathered wings sprouting
from her back, reaching for the sky are the most dramatic and striking.  
Aedariara is in excellent condition.

Aedariara looks at you.

Vaeshir nods reverently to Aedariara, his eyeless gaze lingering for but a moment on Aedariara's lack of apparel.
Vaeshir says softly 'As per your request, mistress.'

You give a beautifully framed canvas to Aedariara.

Vaeshir gently places the canvas in Aedariara's hands, taking two steps backward to bow deeply.

Aedariara flies gracefully in reach of Vaeshir, her silken robe shifting with every moment.
Aedariara whispers genuinely 'Thank you..'

Vaeshir stands quickly as Aedariara approaches, lips slightly agape.

Aedariara says 'Will you witness the event, Dear Vaeshir?'

Vaeshir shakes his head quickly before nodding.
Vaeshir says softly 'When you find the inspiration to begin I will be present to observe, Lady. I couldn't miss it.'
Vaeshir leans over slowly to draw a small fruit from the table.

You get a ripe, red pomegranate from a mahogany dining table.

Aedariara says 'The inspiration has been my life, and I will begin when we find a derserving place.'
Aedariara says 'Have you any suggestions?'
Aedariara drinks water from a crystal decanter of icy spring water.

You eat a ripe, red pomegranate.
You are full.

Vaeshir rests lightly against the table, his head tilted downward in thought.
Vaeshir says softly 'The piece and subject matter is your own, Lady, though I've always associated the streets of Earendam with your visage.'

Aedariara says 'They are ever delicious are they not? The fruit?'

Vaeshir smiles, turning toward the table.
Vaeshir says softly 'Yes indeed.'

Aedariara nods 'Then to the glorious city.'
Aedariara now follows you.
Aedariara joins your group.

You open the door.

<nowiki>### After a short walk outside the Halls:</nowiki>

A shimmering gate rises up before you.

You enter a shimmering gate.
The Eastern Arien Plaza

[Exits: north east south west]
     A shimmering black gate rises from the ground, leading to parts unknown.
A city watchman patrols the streets of Earendam.
Your passage through the void decimates you!
Aedariara has arrived through a shimmering gate.
Aedariara's passage through the void MUTILATES her!

Aedariara lifts her nose slightly.

Vaeshir says softly 'I will leave the specific location within to your choosing.'

Snow begins to fall steadily from the sky.

<nowiki>### A brief walk to the Glallian School</nowiki>

Landing near the Glallian School
  This landing provides entrance to the main part of the Glallian School,
directly east of here.  The school is both grandiose and extravagant as a
study in Earendam's classical Republican style.  Multi-levelled and
intricately carved with bas reliefs and statuery, the school's varying parts
compete to gain the attention of the observer.  Supporting the building are
a series of marble columns, framing a series of archways which lead eastward
into the building.  The building shows no signs of breaks or seams in its
constituent marble, and the entire structure seems molded, rather than
chiselled.  Stairs lead down to the south, and the landing continues to the
west.  

[Exits: south west]
Aedariara is here.

Aedariara says 'I doubt there will be many passer-by's.'

Vaeshir inclines his head slightly. 
Vaeshir says softly 'The city is quiet this evening.'

Snow stops falling around you.
The gusting wind dies down.

Vaeshir walks southward to rest upon the steps, his cloak rustling about his legs.

The sun slowly disappears in the west.
The wind picks up, blowing to the north.

Aedariara presses her frail finger to the bridge of her nose, in thought 'It seems that each minute that passes by, my memory slips closer to non-existence.'

You think 'A function of the canvas, perhaps?'

Aedariara says 'I have forgotten my easel in the Halls.'

Vaeshir says softly 'Might I fetch it for you, mistress?'

Aedariara sighs 'Perhaps it is a more suitable enviroment anyhow.'

Vaeshir inclines his head slightly. 
Vaeshir says softly 'If you wish.'

Aedariara nods her head slightly.

A shimmering gate rises up before you.

Aedariara steps into a shimmering gate.
You follow Aedariara.
You enter a shimmering gate.

<nowiki>### A short walk to the Dias</nowiki>

The Dais

[Exits: north east south]
     A great brazier of gold is filled with a burning blackness.
Lilisa, the Archmage of the Nexus, stands silently by the brazier.
Sydonus, High Defender of the Black Vanguard, stands at the rear of the dais.
Aedariara has arrived.

You gaze deep within the burning darkness, and glimpse the Nexus, distant but clear.

You rest.

Aedariara ponders the question.
Aedariara says 'Yes, the grand library.'

You stand up.

<nowiki>### Brief walk to the Library</nowiki>

Aedariara closes the door.

The Library
  Row upon row of high bookshelves fill this lofty chamber, each rising a
dozen feet in the air.  From the top of each shelf a column of dark web
continues upward, opening outward to merge with the great mass of spider web
which fills the entire shadowy dome of the chamber.  Tendrils and veils of
web hang down from the mass, and certain parts of the library are completely
inaccessible due to thick layers draped between shelves.  

The books themselves seem to be uncatalogued, and only tenuously arranged 
into subject matter.  A number of glass-faced cabinets are stuffed with 
scrolls, and there are even several shelves holding stone tablets, etched 
with scripts long forgotten by all but the most recondite scholars.  Ancient 
desks of dusty, dark wood stand in the corners.  A single archway leads from 
this chamber to the south.

[Exits: none]
Aedariara is here.
A monstrous black spider with a near-human face clings to the webs above.

Aedariara points her slender finger toward the easel standing in the corner.

You sit down at an ancient wooden desk and rest.
Vaeshir selects one of the desks with a clear view of the easel, easing his weary frame into its seat.

Aedariara ambles, in her usual elegance, to the easel, and glances at it curiously.
Slow to take the final step, Aedariara reaches for the canvas, and stretches it across the easel, pinning the corners with small shards of steel.
Emitting a soft sigh, Aedariara lifts a palette, seemingly far to large for her frail hands to hold, oddly supporting it in ease.

Vaeshir laces his fingers together on the table before him, leaning backward in his seat.

Aedariara glances toward the canvas--the emptiness calling for life.
Aedariara stands a large mirror to the left of her, revealing a reflection unappealing to her jaded eyes.
Slowly, but naturally Aedariara picks up a thin-tipped brush and begins letting paint take its form on the canvas.
Aedariara shifts her gaze from the mirror to the canvas, and back again, letting the brush work in its foreign ways.
Aedariara gazes for a long moment in the mirror, obvious taken by what she sees, and then shifts her gaze to her audience.

Vaeshir looks upward from the canvas at Aedariara, his benign smile having vanished from his face.

Aedariara locks her gaze on something else, much further way than Vaeshir.
Breaking her gaze,  Aedariara shakes her head slightly, and then returns her attention to herself on the canvas.
Aedariara's jaw falls slightly ajar, as she stares at the paint that has taken her form.
Aedariara whispers 'I did not know I was capable..'

Vaeshir opens his mouth as if to speak, gesturing toward the canvas before suddenly falling silent once more.
Vaeshir turns upward to study Aedariara intently.

Aedariara drinks water from a crystal decanter of icy spring water.
Aedariara fixated on the canvas, aedariara whispers 'What do you think..?'
Aedariara Fixated on the canvas, Aedariara whispers 'What do you think..?'
Aedariara sighs heavily.

[OOC] Aedariara: It has been far to long.
OOC to Aedariara: smote ^_^

You stand up.

Vaeshir slowly stands from the desk, looking back and forth between the canvas and Aedariara.

Fixated on the canvas, Aedariara whispers, 'What do you think..?'
Aedariara deftly makes the final stroke with her brush, and steps back to admire her work.

The likeness is wholly perfect. The exquisite grace of the aelin depicted in the portrait both capture and enhance the beauty which is Aedariara's.

Vaeshir smiles softly, looking downward from the canvas 'Magnificent.'

Yet the true magnificence of the work is in the eyes themselves. As you gaze into their green depths, your mind and soul is filled with the primal beauty of the ocean itself.
Yet as you study the piece, you notice that those emerald eyes hold a certain gleam of fear.
Glancing sideways toward Aedariara, you notice that she is wholly motionless. As you watch, her form begins to fade.
In a short time she is vanished, and the gleam of fear in the painting's eye becomes one of panic and unbridled terror.

Slowly, gently, Vaeshir unwraps the embroidered cloth about his head to admire the work of art unhindered.
Vaeshir smiles slightly, walking slowly over to the painting to brush the tips of his scaled fingers against the woman's face.
Vaeshir says softly 'Farewell, Banshee of the Night. A new age is coming. Fortunately enough for you, you will be alive, within these halls, to see it.'

You get a portrait of Aedariara.

A portrait of an aelin woman hangs in this gilded frame, initially
unremarkable, save for the obvious technical mastery and superb composition
of its form.  The aelin woman is beautiful, this much also is immediately
clear, and it is this beauty which holds your eye a moment longer; long
enough to be ensnared by the true genius of the piece.  

The woman's face seems to demand examination.  At first it appears young. 
Her face is pale and noble, framed by thick coils of raven-black hair.  Upon
inspection, however, lines of wisdom, grace and strength are revealed.  She
holds an expression of astute appraisal, and it is this expression which
draws your gaze toward her almond eyes.  An instant's hesitation allows you
to realise that you had avoided meeting those eyes until now.  However the
subtlety of the artist is great, and you find yourself immersed in their
emerald depths before prudence can dictate otherwise.  

Her eyes are like the sea.  Green and nurturing at first they seem, as the
ocean of Sapphire Spear, yet the potential for tempestuous fury is also
there - a perilous glint which plays about the pupils.  An untameable
quality dwells in their dark depths, which are cold and hidden, and somehow
unworldly.  Vertigo seizes you as you gaze at them, and you feel as though
you hover over the ocean indeed, as some stray gull on a wayward wind, or as
a dreamer lost in imagined flight.  As the real world swims back to meet
you, you catch a last glimpse, a final impression -- that of fear -- the
fear of someone trapped and alone.  But the image fades, and you stare once
more at an aelin lady, framed in gold.</tt>

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