Hey everyone! It's nearing the end of the holiday season, we can make it through! Due to the busy schedule I have this week I gotta make it simple again this week! But don't worry I'm sure we'll get to some more craziness as the season fades into the background!
A Sunday Dinner: Food and friends
Hall of Respite, Silvermoon city
5pm, Sunday, December 29th
Admission is free and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is casual. For more information, please contact Archivist Gezelda Fizzlesprocket.
The Royal Library Presents [Horde RP Guild]
((Just a heads up: I'm still experiencing some power issues so if you don't see me around I am huddled in that dark, fending off the wolves.))
Morgana grimaced as she stalked the halls of the Royal Libraries Silvermoon branch. Watching yet another couple of interns in cheery garb throw decorations and candy around. "Ugh, I hate this time of year!" She fumed as she entered her office, slamming the door behind her. She strode to her desk and looked over at her planner, noting that it was her turn to do the salon this Sunday. Morgana groaned, looking around for some sort of inspiration, her gaze landed on an old book she had taken out from the archives. A book of poetry, of course written by a young lady many years ago. She sighed as she leafed through the book, smiling ever so slightly. She close the book and sat at her desk to write out the official event notice.
Announcing a Sunday salon of poetry, wine and conversation. Come and bring any snippets or sonnets that tickle your fancy. The night features a reading of poetry by Guardian Morgana Deschant.
Words and structure: A night of poetry
5pm, Sunday, January 5th
Outer courtyard, The Undercity
Admission is free and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is formal. For more information, please contact Guardian Morgana Deschant.
My Dear Moragana,
I had no idea you would be hosting the salon this week! And so good to see it moving around, too; we mustn't let the Library get too stagnant.
I would write more, but I've been feeling dreadfully drained all week. A creative fugue of some sort, no doubt, brought on by too much composition. I should dearly like to come to the salon, but I fear I will still be too weak.
Please don't doubt that I would attend if my health permitted! I will try to leave a new poem for you at the Library, so that you at least have something of mine to share if you choose. I am sure this mood will pass soon, and I will be able to attend our gatherings with at least some regularity again.
Your Loving Arjah
--
((One more weekend on the road for me, alas! I won't be able to make this salon. But after that I should be around much more on Sundays, and I'm looking forward to lots of Library fun.))
I had no idea you would be hosting the salon this week! And so good to see it moving around, too; we mustn't let the Library get too stagnant.
I would write more, but I've been feeling dreadfully drained all week. A creative fugue of some sort, no doubt, brought on by too much composition. I should dearly like to come to the salon, but I fear I will still be too weak.
Please don't doubt that I would attend if my health permitted! I will try to leave a new poem for you at the Library, so that you at least have something of mine to share if you choose. I am sure this mood will pass soon, and I will be able to attend our gatherings with at least some regularity again.
Your Loving Arjah
--
((One more weekend on the road for me, alas! I won't be able to make this salon. But after that I should be around much more on Sundays, and I'm looking forward to lots of Library fun.))
My dearest Arjah
I am sorry hear that you are not feeling well. But i think I can understand. This entire season has me on edge and I don't even have to worry about my health! At any rate, I shall miss you and wait on your return with baited breath!
A poem would be greatly appreciated as I have not written anything in some time. I'm sure our patrons would love to hear something new from you as well.
Love Morgana
I am sorry hear that you are not feeling well. But i think I can understand. This entire season has me on edge and I don't even have to worry about my health! At any rate, I shall miss you and wait on your return with baited breath!
A poem would be greatly appreciated as I have not written anything in some time. I'm sure our patrons would love to hear something new from you as well.
Love Morgana
Edited by Moragana on 1/3/2014 6:58 PM PST
Moragana Dearest -
I've left you a poem in our Writer's Workshop space. You needn't share it, if you think the draft still needs work, but it's yours for the salon if you want it.
I think it rather good, for my first attempt at setting a Zandali style in the orcish language. The interior rhymes come off perhaps a bit clunkier than they would in a more lyrical language, but we can't have everything.
Writing this tires me; I shall leave it at that. Help yourself to the poem if you think it would make good entertainment! Leave it in the Writer's Workshop if not, and I will play with it when my energy returns.
Fondly,
Arjah
Postscript: I should have said something in my letter -- the subject matter is a bit political. Let people work it out for themselves. If any of them complain to you, tell them to take it up with me at the next salon. It will give them a reason to come back...
--
((That's on our website forums, in case it wasn't clear! Wish I could be there tomorrow night...))
I've left you a poem in our Writer's Workshop space. You needn't share it, if you think the draft still needs work, but it's yours for the salon if you want it.
I think it rather good, for my first attempt at setting a Zandali style in the orcish language. The interior rhymes come off perhaps a bit clunkier than they would in a more lyrical language, but we can't have everything.
Writing this tires me; I shall leave it at that. Help yourself to the poem if you think it would make good entertainment! Leave it in the Writer's Workshop if not, and I will play with it when my energy returns.
Fondly,
Arjah
Postscript: I should have said something in my letter -- the subject matter is a bit political. Let people work it out for themselves. If any of them complain to you, tell them to take it up with me at the next salon. It will give them a reason to come back...
--
((That's on our website forums, in case it wasn't clear! Wish I could be there tomorrow night...))
Edited by Arjah on 1/4/2014 4:29 PM PST
((Thank you Arjah! My poems all suck at present so it'll be nice to have a good one! Um, little update people, so sorry but I totally forgot to make a calendar invite. It has been done, I just totally let it slip my mind!))
Dearest Arjah
Thank you so much for the poem, all of your works go over so well at these salons. I cannot wait to read it to the patrons gathered! In regards to it's political nature, that is of little concern I believe in the good will of our library guests, that and we have a decent security team. And if worst come to it I shall have to test out my new hammer!
All my love, Morgana Deschant.
Dearest Arjah
Thank you so much for the poem, all of your works go over so well at these salons. I cannot wait to read it to the patrons gathered! In regards to it's political nature, that is of little concern I believe in the good will of our library guests, that and we have a decent security team. And if worst come to it I shall have to test out my new hammer!
All my love, Morgana Deschant.
Here are the poems read at this nights Salon, enjoy:
The first is an unfinished poem collected from the works of Constance Farnsborough. Titled the light of the Son.
Lights last lingering touch fell upon the fields of the land. A last kiss before nights harsh cold. I stood in line to be sewn, then reaped. The amber stalks are treasured, then cut down.
Nights long carress retreats at the dawn, A blanket of cold is pulled aside. Exposing the crops tender buds. To be harvested. The sun brings light, love, hope and strong hand, clutching a sickle.
And the second is a poem from the libraries own Arjah.
Rise of the Zandalar
In the dusts of the wasteland our people have fought,
The pride of their great clans; their history, forgot.
But cities still rise from the jungle's green depths
Where our memory is prized and a tribe holds its breath:
The clanless, clanless
Clanless
Zandalar,
Clanless, clanless,
Zandalar.
Like smoke from a mountain, like pain from a scream,
Zandali shall fountain in their endless stream.
Our masters shall crumble, oppressors shall fall
And the whole world rumble with their ancient call:
The savage, savage
Savage
Zandalar,
Savage, savage
Zandalar.
Though our foes number legion, though our enemies strong
No homeland, no region shall turn back their throng.
Aroused from their slumber, the earliest race
Defies mortal numbers and reclaims its place
As master, master
Master
Zandalar,
Master, master
Zandalar.
In dreaming, in waking, this vision we see,
The Zandalar breaking the world at their knee.
Let the orcs have their city, the humans their war;
All others our pity when the clan comes once more!
So gather, gather
Gather
Zandalar,
Gather, gather
Zandalar.
Gather, gather,
Gather
Zandalar
Gather, gather,
Gather.
The first is an unfinished poem collected from the works of Constance Farnsborough. Titled the light of the Son.
Lights last lingering touch fell upon the fields of the land. A last kiss before nights harsh cold. I stood in line to be sewn, then reaped. The amber stalks are treasured, then cut down.
Nights long carress retreats at the dawn, A blanket of cold is pulled aside. Exposing the crops tender buds. To be harvested. The sun brings light, love, hope and strong hand, clutching a sickle.
And the second is a poem from the libraries own Arjah.
Rise of the Zandalar
In the dusts of the wasteland our people have fought,
The pride of their great clans; their history, forgot.
But cities still rise from the jungle's green depths
Where our memory is prized and a tribe holds its breath:
The clanless, clanless
Clanless
Zandalar,
Clanless, clanless,
Zandalar.
Like smoke from a mountain, like pain from a scream,
Zandali shall fountain in their endless stream.
Our masters shall crumble, oppressors shall fall
And the whole world rumble with their ancient call:
The savage, savage
Savage
Zandalar,
Savage, savage
Zandalar.
Though our foes number legion, though our enemies strong
No homeland, no region shall turn back their throng.
Aroused from their slumber, the earliest race
Defies mortal numbers and reclaims its place
As master, master
Master
Zandalar,
Master, master
Zandalar.
In dreaming, in waking, this vision we see,
The Zandalar breaking the world at their knee.
Let the orcs have their city, the humans their war;
All others our pity when the clan comes once more!
So gather, gather
Gather
Zandalar,
Gather, gather
Zandalar.
Gather, gather,
Gather
Zandalar
Gather, gather,
Gather.
Fastice returned in silence to his office, his poem still scrawled on parchment under candlelight. He glanced at it, over and over, still unsure of whether or not he was glad to have read it. He shrugged, picked it up, and held it over the candle, until it caught flame. When it was naught but a burning ember, he tossed it in his trash and poured a bit of water on it.
"That's that, then."
((Awesome turnout tonight, I had a blast. Small but fun. Until next week!))
"That's that, then."
((Awesome turnout tonight, I had a blast. Small but fun. Until next week!))
(( I will attempt to make it more organized with a calendar invite going out WAY earlier and a proper location and all that!))
Moragana Dearest -
Since you went ahead and premiered the work at your Salon, I've had it published under the Library's imprint. It should be available publicly by now.
One minor correction for you -- the title is "Rise of Zandalar," without the definite article. Zandalar is a unified whole, which I treated in my orcish usage as a singular noun rather than a plural.
It would be "Rise of the Zandali" if we used the plural, but that would refer to a different concept altogether: the current, living individuals claiming descent from the Zandalar tribe, rather than the tribe itself.
Complicated, is it not? I am being more picky with my language than usual, in part as an attempt to unsettle the current discourse regarding my people. It certainly needs attention, if the Horde is ever going to become comfortable with a troll Warchief -- even a progressive one like Vol'jin.
Still and all, you did very well on the whole, and I hope the salon was a success.
Your Loving Arjah
Since you went ahead and premiered the work at your Salon, I've had it published under the Library's imprint. It should be available publicly by now.
One minor correction for you -- the title is "Rise of Zandalar," without the definite article. Zandalar is a unified whole, which I treated in my orcish usage as a singular noun rather than a plural.
It would be "Rise of the Zandali" if we used the plural, but that would refer to a different concept altogether: the current, living individuals claiming descent from the Zandalar tribe, rather than the tribe itself.
Complicated, is it not? I am being more picky with my language than usual, in part as an attempt to unsettle the current discourse regarding my people. It certainly needs attention, if the Horde is ever going to become comfortable with a troll Warchief -- even a progressive one like Vol'jin.
Still and all, you did very well on the whole, and I hope the salon was a success.
Your Loving Arjah
Morgana frowned at the letter, that was basically the last thing she wanted to do. Funny how much one word can change things. She sat back in her chair, causing it to creak loudly. She looked over at the tome she had selected for this weeks salon. An uncharacteristic smile crept across her lips. She had been cackling all morning, causing the interns to become fearful that she had finally snapped. Perhaps that long planned killing spree was to be in the near future? No, it wasn't that (yet...) it was the book she had found in the archives: Billham Smakespere's 1001 bawdy insults. She grinned and set the letter from Arjah aside, tucking it away into a special folio she bought just for her letters, how she treasured them so. She pulled out a blank parchment and set to making the event notice
Have you ever came across a funk-spittled knave who deserved a good insult, but lacked the tools to do so? Well, I have uncovered the perfect solution! From the genius who brought us many a riveting play, Billham Smakespere, comes his comprehensive collection of Bawdy insults! 1001 bawdy insults! Come and join us for a night of cutting words and revelry. Refreshments will be in the form of iced treats supplied by the libraries Head Chef Gezelda Fizzlesprocket. She told me that they are in honor of the 'deep freeze' that most of the lands seem to be caught in.
1001 Bawdy insults: A night of depravity
5pm, Sunday, January 12th
Hall of Respite, Silvermoon city
Admission is free and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is formal. For more information, please contact Guardian Morgana Deschant.
[ This happened: http://the-royal-library.enjin.com/forum/m/18229009/viewthread/10545282-bansis-belated-winter-veil-gift/page/1#p58723396 ]
The Royal Library presents, a night of satire and comradery (Not to mention drinking), in the form of Charades! Come one, come all, and enjoy company, wine, and hilarity as each of us make attempts to entertain and delight through a favorite party game past time to most. We will cover a range of subjects, from politics, to history, to downright silliness. You'll laugh, you'll cry, with laughter most like, and guaranteed you'll make a fool of yourself attempting to convey a message without speech. Guardian Blackblade will be MC'ing the evening. We look forward to seeing you there!
An unspoken joke: Charades night!
5 pm, Sunday, January 19th
Level 3 of Thunder Bluff, near the Bonfire.
Admission is free, and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is casual. For more information, Contact Guardian Fastice Blackblade
An unspoken joke: Charades night!
5 pm, Sunday, January 19th
Level 3 of Thunder Bluff, near the Bonfire.
Admission is free, and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is casual. For more information, Contact Guardian Fastice Blackblade
[ Fiercely proud of CC for making the best of cross-realm RP. Special thanks to our Elune friends! ]
It came in the late hours, that dreary January Wednesday. The only noise to announce it being the shuffle of a cloak upon the doorstep, and the scrape of heavy parchment forced beneath the door. The envelope itself was large and thick; coarse paper with more than its share of oil stains and ink blotches to grant it character. But the paper inside was pristine and glaringly white. So much so that in good light one nearly had to squint to perceive the silvery lettering that quite literally shimmered and danced over its surface.
“Greetings and Salutations, esteemed archivists and contributors alike. It has come to our attention that you are wishful of a night of fancy; of mystic allure and refined entertainment. On behalf of the M.I. Institution and our gracious employer, Kelandre Blazetempest, we invite you to partake in just such an experience. Enclosed you will find the promotional materials you might deem necessary to spread word among your benefactors and associates. Please do give your interns a night off as well; our red-shirts are more than capable of fulfilling their duties. As is our highly trained staff of culinary masters. We look forward to delighting and astonishing your gracious persons soon.
Humbly yours,
Enareus Ambrosia”
Posters. They spilled out of the envelope, a veritable waterfall of gold and aqua, purple and black. This in itself would not have been unusual, except that the envelope had been empty but for the letter mere moments before. A pool of them settled upon the floor, all shifting and glittering with traces of the arcane still clinging to their essence. A rabbit was prominently featured in the foreground, climbing his way out of a very distinguished top hat.
-The Amazing Ambrosia Brothers!-
-Invite you to join in a night of mystery, magic, and miraculous marvels! Come and be astonished by feats of impossibility that defy the mind of scholar and Magister alike! The Ambrosia Brothers are here to serve as your entertainment for the evening, courtesy of the Royal Library!-
-This Sunday, the 26th of January.-
-Five of the Evening Clock.-
-Throne Room of the Ruins of Lordaeron.-
-Refreshments Provided.-
“Greetings and Salutations, esteemed archivists and contributors alike. It has come to our attention that you are wishful of a night of fancy; of mystic allure and refined entertainment. On behalf of the M.I. Institution and our gracious employer, Kelandre Blazetempest, we invite you to partake in just such an experience. Enclosed you will find the promotional materials you might deem necessary to spread word among your benefactors and associates. Please do give your interns a night off as well; our red-shirts are more than capable of fulfilling their duties. As is our highly trained staff of culinary masters. We look forward to delighting and astonishing your gracious persons soon.
Humbly yours,
Enareus Ambrosia”
Posters. They spilled out of the envelope, a veritable waterfall of gold and aqua, purple and black. This in itself would not have been unusual, except that the envelope had been empty but for the letter mere moments before. A pool of them settled upon the floor, all shifting and glittering with traces of the arcane still clinging to their essence. A rabbit was prominently featured in the foreground, climbing his way out of a very distinguished top hat.
-The Amazing Ambrosia Brothers!-
-Invite you to join in a night of mystery, magic, and miraculous marvels! Come and be astonished by feats of impossibility that defy the mind of scholar and Magister alike! The Ambrosia Brothers are here to serve as your entertainment for the evening, courtesy of the Royal Library!-
-This Sunday, the 26th of January.-
-Five of the Evening Clock.-
-Throne Room of the Ruins of Lordaeron.-
-Refreshments Provided.-
Edited by Kelandri on 1/22/2014 7:29 PM PST
Morgana grumbled as she looked at the flyer. Such a 'fun' looking event. She really hoped it wasn't too loud. However...if might be nice to be entertained for an evening. Perhaps she'd go...
Bump!
The Library hosts a truly spectacular collection of History and All of Azeroth is literally in the books inside these Great Libraries
Dearest Benoite,
I had the most wonderful time at the, salon the other night. I loved the brandy most especially! I was wondering if you could tell me where I'd be able to purchase some! I'd love to have some more to enjoy in my own time. Oh, look at me discussing only brews, how typical. On another note, how are you doing? I am feeling well! I hope this letter finds you in good spirits.
Love, Snowlily Softpaw esq.
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