Faun Fertility Festival - bored?

[Philomel]

This letter has appeared through all the personal letterboxes and in the mailboxes of all Order of the Crimson Hand operatives. A certain faun has ways of finding out where all operatives live, mostly through asking young men in brothels and threatening children with her baby dragon. It is printed on parchment, embossed with delicate drawings of ivy and grasses.


***

Dear Operative of the Order of the Crimson Hand,

You are Cordially invited to celebrate the Sa'gn Ger'er, the Faunish Spring Festival of life and fertility, which celebrates all things anew and beautiful. Upon the Spring Equinox, at the exact hour of Salvar midday, this party will commence in the Seventh Sactum itself.

For the purposes of this festival, all bones and blood will be replaced by flowers and trees, and the traditional crossed branches of ash and elm to honour the great Faun Mother, Drys, Goddess of Trees. The Grand Hall will be our centre of dancing and music shall be played on the pan pipes and the country drum. Drinks shall be served - mead and wine galore - and food in abundance! All matters of water and fire will be cleansed away to make way for earth.

Usually we would request also that you wear the dress of our festival, in order to respect out traditions. To experience the true potential of life it is tradition to go as you were born - however we do understand that non-faun creatures have no fur. Therefore it is acceptable to wear some clothing.

The plan is to celebrate late into the night, when we will break out the mightiest and holiest beverage. Much noise is expected to be made. All in all weapons will be allowed in, but no fighting is to be allowed. If fighting does occur then you are disrespecting the life and beauty of our goddess, and moreover we take no responsibility for injury or death.

Earth shall rule on this day, and much time shall be spent in each other's company. It is the time when Fauns respond to the base call of nature and feel most alive to procreate, and when families are begun. It is a time for renewal and new life, and new desires.

Plus ones are most lovingly invited, however we ask they be not Ixian Knights, or of any other gossiping group.

Come join us and be merry.

Yours, sincerely,

The Radasanth Fauns
brother and sister, Leaf and Philomel (van der Aart)

[Lye]

Curiously, the assassin lifts the delicate parchment from the edge of his desk. Already, the aroma of wild flowers and sweet nectar churn his stomach. He hesitantly breaks the wax seal, swallowing nervously. Like a punch from a drunkard, more pleasant aromas assault his nostrils, but he fights through the pain.

The uncomfortably soft parchment slides from its envelope. He opens it. Cold, calculating eyes scan left to right at the contents. Sweat beads on his forehead.

In silence, he sets down the letter and lifts his gaze to the blank wall in from of him.

"Dear god..."

((I hereby register for this festival of fun!))

[Lye]

Miss Philomel,

What if we, say, force any outsiders (IK Included) to do an honorary shot of your Headbutt Liquor, and said shot were to mellow out any hostile feelings, plus wipe memories (save juicy flashbacks) from their minds the morning after? If you think your Headbutt Liquor were capable of such miracles, would you be open to the idea of letting any and all outsiders also participate?

No fighting of course. Unless it's naked wrestling or headbutting. Then by all means... ;P

What do you say?

[EDIT] We still need a sign that says "No Zack Blazes Allowed" just to clarify.

[Philomel]

Sir Mister Lord Ulroke,

Headbutt liquor is a very holy drink, our most precious of beverages that has a recipe so secret only Priests of Drys know the complete recipe.

That being said, it is a magical mixture, claimed to be so powerful that it can knock a grown man off his feet. Two shots for the unpractised will cause severe headaches the next morning, three shots will cause memory loss, though it cannot be known how much as that does vary from person to person.

If a non-Crimson Hand member were to accidently make their way into this festival, then it would be possible to simply drug them, yes. As long as they respect our traditions I see no reasons not too misuse their trust.

Naked wrestling with headbutting, a sport we call Gersh'Ra, as it stands, is a main aspect of this festival. Naturally my brother will be taking part in this as it is his honour and duty to do show, to display his strength as a male of our species ought to. Unfortunately though, due to the natural spirit of the time he will be stronger than usual, as his hormones rage.

Thank you for your patience and enthusiasm.

Miss Philomel.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"...Madison, there are about a dozen of angry looking pigs and a fox at the door."

"I know. They've been there for about six hours now."

"What do they want?"

"They want me to go to a party."

"What the hell kind of party is it?"

"It's a Philomel van der Aart party."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means it's a party that I would be quite fine if I missed out on. But the pigs and fox won't take no for an answer. Even when I explained politely, without swearing, that I have crippling body image issues and I'm fiercely asexual, they refused to go away. So I'm waiting to see which expires first; my invitation, or them."

"So... Should I go get the flamethrower, or something?"

"No--just, like, leave them alone."

"But Madison, I have to leave to run some errands. They won't let me through."

"So tell them to fuck off and shoo them away or something! Do I have to solve all your problems for you, or what?"

"AAARGH! One of the bastard pigs bit me! Shit! Now the fox is going for my ankles!"

"Alright, alright! Fine! Tell them I'll send my RSVP along shortly, if that will get them to leave! ...Fuck!"

[Philomel]

NOTICE: The invitiation has been changed, in a sarcastic scoff, to allow "some clothing," so essentially you can wear clothes :D