[[Rated Aure]] Faun Fertility Festival - Order of the Crimson Hand

[Philomel]

http://paintings-art-picture.com/paintings/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/01/POUSSIN-Nicolas-The-Triumph-of-Pan-Painting-.jpg

[Philomel]

Below is a complete description of the festival, what it looks like and the rules of Gersh'Ra, the main sport.

Sa'gn Ger'er - the Faun Fertility (Spring) Festival

Description:

Firstly, the Inner Hall and the Great Hall have been removed of all weapons, metal objects, cages, interrogation materials - anything associated with assassination.

Great Hall:
This has been transformed to look like an indoor paradise. Covering the entire ceiling, tied into hooks at the sides and corners, is a large ivy trellis. Ivy hangs down in long and short strands, some with flowers adorning the stems. They are odd in length, and in no precise order, and will last the entire night to be green, but fade to brown as morning comes. Likewise, the walls have trellis leanign against them, though these are forms of vines, with fruit and vegetables such as tomatoes and beans growing on them. Large bouquets of flowers on elegant pillars adorn each of the four corners. The room is lit by various candlestands situated by the walls, but far enough away so as not to burn anything.
The great throne itself has been transformed with flowers intricately woven around it, of roses, lillies and lavender. A large pot-plant ash tree stands on either side of it, with a gap on the wall between. On this wall is hung two large crossed branches - an oak and a pine, representing spring and winter.
A series of rectangular tressle tables are set to one side, with unturned barrels for seats. Each table has a centre piece of a thistle and a twig. On the opposite side of the room is a large round table with an abundance of fruit and vegetables on it, some cooked, others not. There is also vegetable broth and potato dishes, but no meat of any kind.
Just as you come into the door, near the food is an area for games. Please see below for list of games.
Up near the throne in a corner is a small table with ordinary drinks on them such as wine and cider and beer. Near here also is an area with a carpet and musicians playing the pan pipes and traditional acoustic drum.

The Inner Hall/Sanctum:
This large round room has been cleared out of anything unruly and it set up as a bar and fighting arena. Around the walls are various trees in pot plants, each about two foot maximum in roundness and grow halfway up the wall, above the heads of most. They are placed close together, but in between the gap of each two a pair of crossed branches are placed on the wall. The place is lit by a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, hastily made from wrought iron and decorated with straw and wheat wound around it.
Small round tables with a single candle on each are dotted around the edge, with stools for seats. These are mostly used to face inwards to the main area. One large table is opposite the door and has no stools around it, only more expensive, luxurious alcohol on it, namely spirits.
The floor of the place is covered in sand, to provide a base for the horn-wrestling, called "Gersh'Ra" to occur. At the entrance is a line of hooks in the wall, each baring a boiled leather helmet with ram horns placed on the side. These come in a variety of sizes. These are for the use of people who do not have horns and want to take part in the horn-wrestling. Rules for the wrestling can be found below.

The Barracks:
The barracks are outside, a little walk away. These are various small rooms, each provided with straw on the floor and a few blankets and a supply of alcohol for private use. One must walk through the snow to find them, but they are still useful and somewhat necessary for the night.

Gersh'Ra:

Gersh'Ra is the traditional sport of the Faun Festival, in which male fauns show their strength by wrestling. It takes place somewhat like mud-wrestling except the fact that it is down via the head and horns, not the upper body.
The two contestants stand at either end of the room, about twenty metres from one another. At a whistle, or signal, they then run at each other, lowering their horns. Upon impact they clash, horn to horn. Strength of the skull and upper torso is key here, as the object is to get your opponent onto the ground.
Use of hands is entirely disallowed below the shoulders. Shoulders can be grabbed to stablise but should not be hit.
Once grounded a person is allowed to get back up within three seconds and attack again, issuing a second round. Again, the head and horns are used, but hooves and feet can now be used to aim for the groin and thighs.
Further rounds continue until one person is grounded for longer than three seconds, or forfeits.
The loser then has to take a shot of "Wallop".

Special Drinks:

"Wallop": This is a hard bitter spirit made from barley and grass, brewed in the slate mines of Pan's Hill. It is an ugly, dark mixture that smells of tar and is not nice to taste. It is rather cheap and easy to make, though takes a good five years to properly brew.
"Headbutt": This is the faun holy drink, supposedly gifted to the fauns from Drys, their tree-goddess and mother (creator of the first fauns Pan and Eden). The recipe is only known by the high priests of Drys, and it is sweet and immensely strong. It is made from a special honey as well as the rare Eden's Apple, and is said to give visions of the glory of nature. In essence, it is incredibly strong and will cause hallucinations. An unseasoned drinker of Headbutt will suffer headaches after two shots and will lose memory after four. Headbutt is kept in a sealed chest in an undisclosed location, and only Philomel has the key in a secret place.

Games:

1) Pin the Dagger on the Zack Blaze. Includes, one life-sized poster of Zack Blaze, one black blindfold and one iron (blunt) dagger. Aim of the game is to place the dagger on the throat of Zack Blaze by walking up to it blindfolded and sticking it there.
2) Bottle Bowling. A collection of empty bottles that grows larger through the night and one turnip. Using the turnip how many bottles can you knock over with one roll.
3) Find the Faun. There is a rough drawing of an old faun on the wall. You have to find her in ten minutes and then return to the spot of the poster with her and give her a snog. Best snog of the night, wins.

For all those not of the Crimson Hand, yet invited or want to be a part ...
A portal will take you from a designated area on the edge of the Red Forest, in the company of pigs and foxes and deer. What the portal is, essentially, is a wormhole performed by Earth Spirits and a singular lonely Earth Mage, enhanced so far that it can jump to the Seventh Sanctum entrance hall. You will be required to take one shot of Headbutt so you are suitable hazy when you arrive.

[Lye]

"No, Leaf! You tie it like this!"

The assassin's vibrant, jade eyes cracked open. His muscles ached. His vision foggy.

"Cookie, no! Stop it! Where's your brother, Thor?!"

The creeping cold of the early dawn gnawed viciously at the lone foot who dared escape the linens in the dead of night. He flexed his fingers to give them blood.

CRASH!

Lye jostled in his bed, and were it not for a sudden weight upon his chest, he would have jumped clear off the mattress. Reality eluded him, but the emotion of rage tickled at his chest. He blinked feverishly and as the sleep left his eyes, another completely unexpected sight entered.

Oink...

"Oh what in the fuck?!" Lye shouted as he stirred to escape from the miniature boar sitting face to face with him upon his chest. In all his hairy glory, it just stared at him with heavy breath and drooling lips. Drooling lips?!

With a snap of his wrist, Lye summoned forth a prong of bone from his palm. A high shrill of a squeal perforated the assassin's ears as his uninvited guest scrambled to leap off. In the meanwhile, Lye's battle scarred sternum earned a few new scrapes and likely bruises. Winded and confused, the Master of the Crimson Hands rolled from his mattress and flopped to the cold stone floor. The ivory prong retracted back beneath the flesh to permit a body check for grievous wounds.

Squeeee!

The boar shrilled again. This time, hooves beating against the wooden door sounded - a welcomed reprieve from hooves against rib-cages. Feeling the fire welling in his groggy little mind, Lye shot the boar a death dealing scowl. Wide eyed, the beast froze mid door scratch.

"Thor?!"

Lye's bedroom door creaked open. The animal seized the opportunity for freedom. With a scamper, scuttle, and roll, the miniature bore forced the door wide, then bolted from sight.

"Thor! How did you get in there!" A silhouette of inhuman shape called out. Lye shielded his sensitive eyes from the blast of light behind it. "What's in here anywa-- PHILOMEL! HELP!"

"What in fuck?!" was the only thing Lye could muster. He stood while his eyes adjusted, lowering his arm. As the dark outline took form, he could make out a second. This one, clearly female, and very familiar.

"What now, Leaf?!" the sensual faun inquired. She halted at the door and staggered a step back. Lye's eyes adjusted to see one completely naked, bare breasted, flower adorned faun. In turn, she came to witness one pale skinned, red silk short wearing, mostly naked assassin leader. Leaf was there too.

In a state of shock on both parts, they could not look away. Thaynes know one or the other tried, but couldn't.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Again, the only thing he could muster at the moment.

"Didn't you get the invitation?!" She shouted back.

"What invitation?!" He returned just as loud.

"The Festival!!" There was shouting.

"That's today?!"

"Guests are arriving as we speak!"

Dread set in.

"What?!"

Faster than he had moved in any life or death scramble, the assassin righted himself, made a break for his wardrobe, and flung the doors wide.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Philomel shouted. Lye stilled his hands just centimeters from his attire.

"What's all this shouting?" asked Wolken, Lye's recently appointed morale adviser.

"Well, you see," Leaf began innocently, "my friend Thor somehow got into this guy's bed and I guess when he woke up, he--"

"That thing nearly punched a hole in my chest with its hooves!" Lye retorted, finger outstretched.

"Enough!" Wolken commanded as he held onto the thin frames of his glasses.

"Prolly deserved it..." Leaf muttered.

"Listen sir," the Crimson Hand adviser continued. Just then, it dawned on Lye that the man, in all his heavily muscled glory, was wearing nothing but one goat skinned loincloth. "This festival is in the best interest of group morale. Your little stunt in Eiskalt, the tournament you're forcing people to participate in, and your unorthodox leadership has everyone walking on eggshells. The Master of the Word, Aurelianus Drak'Shal stated that a celebration would put the men at ease and appointed miss Serkena van der Aart to host it. I advise you do yourself a favor and par-tic-i-pate." The last few words carried threatening ire.

A twitch found its way into the corner of Lye's eye at the mention of Aurelianus. He could see him now, needle-like teeth spread in a shit-eating grin in his luxuriously plush office chair, drinking a fine red and laughing darkly with Junior chittering on his shoulder.

"That sonnufa--" Lye began, cut off by more voices in the Grand Hall behind the three in his doorway.

"More guests!" Leaf exclaimed, then disappeared.

"Sir, I advise you not keep them waiting..." Wolken sternly suggested with a gesture toward the bright, and festive display behind him. Lye was pretty sure he got a glimpse of Skavian butt cheek...

"And so help me, if you try putting on clothes..." Philomel warned as she stomped out, bare breasts in tow.

"Did she just threaten ME?" Lye stood in a stupor. "What the Thaynes...?"

"Sir!"

"Yeah sure, I'm coming." The assassin lord, clad only in his silk, crimson shorts, stepped to follow his adviser. His face accurately reflected the thoughts in his mind, blank and without comprehension of the situation.

"This is the strangest nightmare I have ever..."

Let the festivities begin! All attendants can post as they like in whatever order that they like. Please use the Recruitment Thread (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?28139-Faun-Fertility-Festival-bored) to discuss any OOC ideas. Please bare in mind that Philomel is in charge of this event and she will be directing events throughout the thread through her characters or NPCs. Other than that, let's have ourselves a fun little thread!

[Philomel]

Moving out to the front of house the faun-whore was delighted to see guests arriving on time. Through a narrow window high in the wall she could see the white glow of the Salvar sun, almost directly above, signalling the time of midday. A river of excitement ran through her, and she let a grin grow on her face as she practically ran to go and greet those who came. Every time this year she felt the same - elated, alive, energetic - but this was the first in her lifespan that she had properly celebrated it. Previous years she and her mother had been confined to the building of the brothel, using that sudden spur of desire within them to make special guests especially happy.

But this year ... this year it was different.

Hands held out in front of her she enthusiastically ran forwards, breasts jumping as they were unbound. The figures in the hallway seemed disturbed at the fact that this assassin-whore, usually a lady of famous sass and violent tendencies, was hurrying forwards like a starstruck school girl, but Philomel did not care. She never really cared what others thought of her - unless they were Veridian, Leaf to an extent, and lately perhaps the Ixian bitch Astarelle - and today was a day was an essential day for that.

She was slightly disappointed to see them clothed, though admittedly partly revealing. Though perhaps it was better for Mister Draak, the large rotund troll who stood there as a grumpy sour old man. His rolls of fat hung from his chin and he breathed heavily, as if been made to walk far too far for someone his size and decorum.

"Faun," he grumbled, staring at Philomel, as usual not attracted to her breasts in any way, "This place is dreadful."

"Lovely to see you too!" Philomel grinned, grabbing his hand, "Now come. Come meet my boss, Mister Draak. You two will get on so well!"

Leaf hurried up behind her, lithe on his hooves. He smiled briefly at Mister Draak, the two having met only once and under terrible circumstances. The troll who was a monk, yet also an underworld tycoon, glared at him. For a moment Leaf seemed to shrink, opting for his usual shy flight-and-retreat tactic, but then he realised his body was filled with more testoterone than anyone could sanely hold. Hence he insanely rose to his full height of five foot and eleven inches and gave the troll a most absolute nod.

"Alrigh'" he said as if greeting an old friend, then he twisted to welcome the other guests.

There was a giggle. Philomel found the exchange between the two delightfully awkward, but was eager to get the 'party started'. She pulled Draak through the front room, into the Great Hall, where Lye was trying to find some sense of normality under the depths of vines, flowers, hay, trees, pumpkins, turnips and other delightful things. Propelling the enormous troll forwards she shoved the two together, then smiled at them.

"Lye Ulroke, meet Draak Gvar. Now I am off to find my mother."

And she spun on her left hoof and pranced away, with an obvious spring in her step. Veridian let out a bark and shot from nowhere, leaping to keep pace with his beloved. As the guests began to file in, rather gawking at the amount of change the Seventh Sanctum had gone under, Philomel went to find the ex-whore that was her mother.


This is the greeting most will get. You will be welcomed by a faun - either Philomel in her excited bare-breasted way, Leaf who is being a gentleman today, though is incredibly sweet and shy at times, and the grumpy cow that is Philomel's mother, the ex-whore, Lacey. Feel free to bunny one of these for your introduction.