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Hallowed by thy Ground


Phantom Orchid

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[center][center][size=5][b]Hallowed by thy Ground[/b][/size]
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[center][center][i]To hallow is "to make holy or sacred, to sanctify or consecrate, to venerate".[/i]


[font=georgia,serif]Halloween is commonly associated with festivals of the dead, like, for instance, Samhain of Celtic lore. It is an occasion where the veil between the living and dead grows thin, allowing spirits to pass and mingle with the living. It is a time when departed souls are honored. Mystics see this as a time to commune with Gods and Goddesses.[/font]


A letter from the desert:

[quote][font=comic sans ms,cursive]The starry blanket draped over the sky in our realm is my Goddess - one of mine. Mother to some, crazy aunt (or even dangerous stranger) to others; she is a wild, wild woman. All have met her, and she watches over all with a thousand sparkly eyes. She is a auburn-haired skeleton woman, dancing in the land of dreams, planting seeds. At times known as Winter, and at others, Death. She is always known at night. She can be quite scary.

The darkness of Necrovion grows colder and colder, and the Goddess of the Moon becomes apparently meaner - her lessons are hard, oh so hard, so much so that I pray for light. But her sharp and glorious teeth smile with a fierce embrace - a mighty love. And in return, I learn to do so with mine.

In this land of forsaken Time, my thoughts are muddled, and so I am oft to avoid talking about the Goddess here. In a shroud of darkness, certain things come to light, and it would be facetious to speak of her nature here, her being, when her essence hides behind no shroud.
Our Goddess of the Night, she cannot be pinned down. She cannot be talked to, imagined as if she were an invisible entity, or merely some archetype born from one's mind.

The answer lies within the Wild Hunt, the trek under a darkening sky through a landscape wherein lives only dreams and uncharted sea.

The realm of the Goddess. Powerful. Unimaginable.

She is wind, rock, water, fire and aether.

She is lunacy, dancing in a poem of blood. How does one know this? Through drink, through merriment, through madness. Through poems, offerings, and apples of discord. And most importantly, through dreams. She is mystery, wonder, and terror all-in-one. A power greater than the summation of her parts. Enrapturing.

I met a traveler, in this dark land, with olive skin like sand and a thunderous voice which led me inside the Accursed Growth. I see her in the twist of this old tree, as in the pulse of rock, as my throat becomes dry and my knees begin to tremble as glowing eyes watch from within. What left is there to do, I wonder, but laugh? She is a mystery, so I laugh, and to her I open myself in prayer. Prayer to open other portals of possibility - for voices in the wind carry a cascade of dust that floats through sunlight and makes poetry in the air. Through dreams, I open doors. But I also close them. Singing shadows are cradled in the abode of dreams, and without names or faces, not many are ready to face them. It takes time to reign in the spirits of dreams.

Oh but there are merely fragmented thoughts, fleeting memories...

Now tell me, seeker of keys, of a place you find worthy of sacrament.

Priestess Orchid of the Sanguine Moon
Dream Weaver[/font][/quote]


[font=georgia,serif]This quest requires participants to compose a letter with words and/or pictures and PM it to Phantom Orchid in-game.[/font]
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