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18th April 2018 | Please congratulate the our two newest admins, Kiwi & Mallory! They were promoted thanks to all their hard work and dedication! We also want to thank all our current staff as they have been working really hard to make sure Cae is running smoothly! Keep your eye out as we are going to be hosting auditions to add two new moderators to our staff team!

15th April 2018 | The staff is at it again! A wonderful new type of quest is now offered to you wonderful members of Caeleste by the name of Misc Quests. No matter what it is your character desires they can now got to their Deity and see if they are willing to make their wildest dreams come true! Check out the info and rules here!

2nd April 2018 | We have amazing news!!! Immortality is now attainable through In Character achievement! Be sure to check it out in the guidebook, under Immortality!

31st March 2018 | Of the Month Voting is up - go vote for your favourites here!

25th March 2018 | Of the Month Nominations are up this month, go and nominate your favourites here!

3rd March 2018 | The original Caeleste skin is back in business but we have a few questions that we want our members to decide upon. Please take a moment to look over this poll and give your vote!

* 25th February 2018 | The guidebook is undergoing a well deserved revision! Many things are being clarified and a few additions are being added. When the entire guidebook is finished being revised we will inform all members with an announcement following its finishing. Until now a new change log has been added for future references. Any new additions or changes to the guidebook will be added there for everyones sake, we wish for all our members to be 'in the know' and not feel left out. For now until the entire guidebook is finished you can follow the progress here. Understand that each section that is currently dated has been revised, if it is not dated it has not been revised yet, all new rules are being enforced starting the day they have been added. Be sure to keep up with the revisions and make yourself familiar with them as we go.

22nd February 2018 | After some staff discussion we have made an announcement regarding character names and some extra clarification that is not detailed in the guidebook. Please be sure to look over this announcement here and reply if you need.

21st February 2018 | Of the Month Nominations are up this month, go and nominate your favourites here!

20th February 2018 | We have a new poll up, Leadership Battle Grace Period Poll! We are considering changing our grace period for leadership battles to offer some more down time. Go read about it an give us your vote!

18th February 2018 | Additional news for today, we now have an absent/busy page that shows all members currently absent/busy as well as the reason stated for such! This page is controlled by the away status you set for your account (by going to edit profile --> away status). We will be going through the absences board as well and adding in current absences to some members profiles. If you had an absence thread posted but are no longer absent please delete the thread. <3 Thank you!

18th February 2018 | NEW SITE INCENTIVE!!! Weekly Challenges were set up in an effort to give members a chance to do something out of the ordinary with their character while receiving a reward for doing so. Be sure to check out the thread, challenges start today if you wish to get involved.

31st January 2018 | February OTM's are now open for voting! Cast your votes whenever you get a chance.

28th January 2018 | New quick link MyCodes available! Easily link a profile, thread or specific post in a thread. To read more on how to use them please see the More Resources section of the Guidebook. They can all be found under the Miscellaneous --> Useful MyCodes area.

25th January 2018 | New way of tagging. Instead of @username it is now @[username] and you will also see nifty little reminders in both posts and profiles that you can easily copy and paste instead of having to type out names! Hoping everyone has an easier time with tags now.

23nd January 2018 | Of the month nominations for February are taking place, be sure to nominate your favourites here!

22nd January 2018 | Thanks to the wonderful isoldehn, we have new rosters for each individual herd! They can be found in the navigation menu as a drop down under "Census". The Census & Player DB as well as all rosters now update automatically! We also just updated (moved accounts inactive) and deleted accounts (that were inactive for three months or more). This is a reminder to login every thirty days to keep accounts active and every ninety days to keep accounts from being deleted!

10th January 2018 | The poll has closed and Greeshma has a new Emperor!

7th January 2018 | Greeshma leadership voting is now open! Please go and cast your vote after your own deliberation on the applications for our leaders; thank you to everyone who entered! Go vote!

1st January 2018 | Happy New Year to all of Caeleste and all the lovely people in this community! To celebrate the new year, we are holding two contests alongside each other; a Posting Contest and an Advertising Contest and both have super prizes. It is a contest against yourself and not against other players, all in the name of earning some fantastic prizes, so we hope you'll really enjoy it! Let's have another fantastic year! And have fun posting!
IC News
[ Archive ]
16th April 2018 | Caeleste's Seasons and Years are now organized in an easy to read table. We are currently working on a coded version but please feel free to check it out at the bottom of the page here! With that being said our Year and Season has been updated! It is now Fall in Year Three!

13th April 2018 | It's Friday the 13th and Leonidas is out for blood! Come join the Sharads as they confront the Shishira demanding answers about the death of their Emperor's child! It's sure to be an enthralling thread! Check it out here!

2nd April 2018 | We have amazing news!!! Immortality is now attainable through In Character achievement! Be sure to check it out in the guidebook, under Immortality!

28th February 2018 | After a long battle, Vithmiris has been declared winner and keeps his reign as the Shishira Emperor! Thank you to our guest judges and staff who judged the riveting battle. You can check out the results here!

3rd February 2018 | The Emperor of Sharad, Leonidas, is calling an Emergency Herd Meeting! His first and only daughter has been murdered in cold blood! He needs your help, don't miss out. This is the beginning of something big! Check it out here and paticipate in this thrilling plot!

1st February 2018 | A newcomer by the name of Destroyah has challenged Vithmiris for leadership of Shishira. What will come of this? We do not know but you may follow the battle here!

10th January 2018 | Congratulations to Hassan on winning the place as Emperor of Greeshma!
Year III | Fall
The leaves that have turned their auburn and crimson colors are now falling to the earth. Many trees are barren as the cold temperatures of fall set in. Many animals are fattening themselves for the winter to come. There is talk this winter is going to be a hard one so many are prepping early. The air is crisp and most mornings are accompanied by a thin layer of ice as it drops below freezing a few hours after the sun sets. The hides on many animals, especially the equines are thickening as the northern winds bring in a heavy chill. Many are nervous the rumors of a harsh winter is true. Those smart enoough stock up on fire wood and supplies in hopes they will be prepared. Nearly all the mirgatorial birds have flown to the warmest parts of Caeleste by now, almost a month ealier than normal!
Monthly Herd Post Totals


100 posts


218 posts


179 posts


144 posts


205 posts
  • Member of the Month
    A wonderful asset to Caeleste as a whole! Not only does she dedicate her time as a staff member but she also spends a lot of her time being an amazing writer! She is very friendly in the chat box and her characters are very well developed. It seems everytime she steps into chat box or our discord, everything seems to light up! We are blessed to have her apart of the team and cannot thank you enough for your dedication and creativity!
  • Thread of the Month
    Standing in the Way of the Light
    A wild tale of two very dark creatures meeting for a second time... Xavier, possessed by 'The Darkness' tries to warn Resin about the demon inside of him but she is far too fearless to listen. Long story short The Darkness and Resin strike a deal... For twelve months the demon will on feed on her and then on the last day of the twelve months it will leave Xavier's body and never return. However it refuses to leave empty handed and as it leave Xavier it will take Resin's soul! It's a daring, darking, emotional and twisted thread that won't leave you dissapointed!
  • Couple of the Month
    Rhiannon & Wellington
    A very interesting duo that you would never expect to be friends. The noble, strong headed, and rather independant Rhiannon versus Wellington, an eccentric character that has a weak moral compass but hilarious nonetheless. Their dynamics make for very interesting and rather comical threads. You can't help but wonder why a mare like Rhiannon spends her time with a creature like him but then also thankful she is there to take care Wellington and save him from all of his shenanigans.
  • Character of the Month
    A soul tormented by his own demons and terrible past, Xavier is a unique character to Caeleste. The poor boy seems to have endured Hell - quite literally - only to be further tormented in recent times. While he is not the monster that lives within him, his hold on the metaphorical beast seems to be waning. We can't wait to see what is in store for Xavier's future and whether or not he will shake the hold of his inner demons!
  • Quote of the Month
    "Another time, perhaps. I believe we've both tormented him enough for today."

    A sad moment in the thread Standing in the Way of the Light where Resin turns down the Darkness, the demon within Xavier. However tempted, she has more respect for Xavier and tries to decline as delicately as she knows... It is a capturing moment where the apathetic Resin shows something for the damned Xavier.
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Caeleste Time: 04-21-2018, 08:07 AM

AlderaanAlderaan Evii Booth
if i could face them,
if i could make amends with all my shadows...

la dame blanche
the white lady - the physician of greeshma - the light weaver

married to Gabriel
mother to aperture volterra, desdemona and winifred

mood board - playlist - plotter - tracker

Alderaan is ethereal, made of light trapped in a physical form. It wraps around her poise like a cloak; her pride and elegance a homage to what once was. The remnants of her previous grandeur flush upon her skin like the heat of a flame. 

The White Lady carries herself with such grace; her head held high with the promise of that she knows to be true. She was taught to appear larger than what she is, to parade her body and spirit like a daunting figure above all creatures of the land. She is impeccable and drawn out, elegance finding a home in the intricate contours. Her lines are made of gauze, her delicate curves trimmed in porcelain and lace. The forsaken priestess is still a fantastic representation of pious purity and the gentle scripture. Sonnets are written for her flesh; ballads cast on nothing but the gentle hollow of her collar bones. A man could fabricate novels and poems about the curve of her hips and the filigreed shadows that dance over her placid profile in candlelight. The woman is the soft hand and the murmured word, prayers upon her lips and forgiveness in her eyes. 

She is Leonardo, she is Mona Lisa – she is carved of marble and crystal and gold. Statuesque like Roman Goddesses, her features speak tomes. More at home before a grand building or a museum than in the world of man. For she is not some fragile flower; her weight and height like that of Valkyries if she were so inclined. She could be a force of feminine strength and hardened beauty upon a pedestal. But she does not. Her eyes are sharp and alert but also gentle, a honey yellow like that of wolves in cold places. Both are rimmed in crescent shaped eyelashes so long as to touch the tops of her delicate cheeks, her profile like ornate architecture; cathedrals made of bone and skin. However, what once was immortal is no longer; flesh that didn't bend now does with the gentle ease of smiles, frowns, laughter and furrowed brows. The beginnings of small laugh lines, parentheses about her mouth betraying her mortal state even though it was drastically slowed – the smooth marble at last breaking to reveal the soft pink skin underneath. She is but a earthly woman now; no longer a juggernaut of righteous fury and grace but instead yielding flesh and warm embraces, a beast of wool and cotton and the smell of clean sheets. 

She drapes herself in ivory, white as snow and fractals of light. Each delicate hair a mirror to dazzle and stun in the right ambiance; the glow of the world lacing and tracing her skin like delicate fingers – sometimes muted but never easily mistaken. Alderaan is the light. The radiance bleaching what once was black as night. The only smudging of color left upon her skin in the dark trim about her ears, standing in stark contrast even underneath all the delicate piercings she adorns herself with. 

But that does not mean she does not have her transgressions upon her; white cannot hide all her failures. Ivory refuses to mask the wars she has lost, both private and in public. Upon her chest are three scars; the middle one being the worst and most aggressive of the triplets – all of them left upon her by the Uruk beast master that held her captive for over a year. His attempts to forever cripple Alderaan and keep the white lady dependent upon him; for who could ever love a woman with such angry pink crimes for all to see? Then there are the whispering ghosts on her upon her earthly body; the marks that she hides under fabric and haphazard curls. The ghosts that speak of such terrible aggression, the kind that she conceals diligently to even herself: the large crescent shaped furrow nestled where her shoulders meet her neck; the almost invisible nicks of hoof marks on her barrel. Left by someone who wanted nothing more than to destroy and pillage whatever pride the priestess had left. Someone who wanted to take all she clung to in her darkest days. The kind of man who took his payment and rewards not in money, but by the pound of flesh. 

»» clothing/accessories - Always the creature of lace and cloth, Alderaan is very rarely seen without her myriad of cloaks, shawls and scarves. They change periodically, some of them thick for winter and some of them delightfully sheer and in the softest of colors for summer. Though none of them are are grand as the outfits she used to wear in the shrines of Pantheon. Her mane and tail are plaited on occasion, though more often than not lately they are left free to go whichever way they please in easy curls though she is not opposed to pinning her forelock back to keep it out of her face. When she does braid her mane on special occasions she chooses to wear a delicate ornamental chain; a gift from Gabriel and a replacement for the original that was destroyed in the fall of her home. She also sports a golden band above her left knee, etched with a delicate sweeping pattern, that she almost never takes off. All four hooves are shod. She does require reading glasses – too much eye strain in dark corridors as a child. 

She often uses a large, worn leather satchel filled with all kinds of things when she is on the move; most of the time it is filled with glass sample jars and numerous herb samplings; sometimes books or scrolls she is translating or using.

» human face claim/voice claim - - Elizabeth Debicki
- - Voice Sample
a soothing, smooth australian accent. not common to raise her voice unless really upset. opt to hum and vocalize in ways that are not linguistics. Huffing, puffing, hmmm. she is articulate but not arrogantly so, though incredibly intelligent, she does her best not to appear as if she is lording over others. sometimes when irritated or emotional, a light almost non existent lisp can be heard at the end of her words. a memento from the less than savory removal of her incisor teeth as a child.
Gentle – Friendly – Well-educated – Proud – Soft-spoken – Independent  Dependent – Reluctant – Charming – Vain – Eccentric – Loyal

Above all else, the woman is gentle and friendly. Never in her life has she been one to turn away someone if they needed something. Her father taught her that aggression warrants aggression; it is much easier to make friends than enemies. Alderaan is a gravitational being, collecting things in her orbit like a planet. She has such an adoration for the living world and all things that come with it – fascinated with the mannerisms of people and their lives. She treats friendships like holy relics; her relationships fragile things that she can organize and manicure. Sensitive and sometimes clingy, it is not unheard of for her to be taken for granted or abused. She tends to become blind to those who would wish to hurt her and quick to give forgiveness even when it is not deserved. She turns the other cheek and braces herself for the oncoming assault. 

Alderaan tries her best to refuse acknowledgment of her darker emotions, pretending that they don't exist even even as they run amok free of her ever disciplined chains. She was taught to ignore them for the betterment of all. For what good could she do if she held hate in her heart? The Priestess has lost her well-groomed, maintained control of her emotions. Instead of the heavy chains and dead bolts, all that remains is a door that can be easily opened and closed with a volatile finality. What once was an open smile is now a tentative lifted eyebrow and a cautious hello. 

Do not let that scare you though, she doesn't fear anyone easily though she tends to be reluctant and hesitant when it comes to change in her own life. She yearns for structure; she longs for the perfect place. She clings to things that once were, be they in books or in people, an independent dependent that needs a heavy anchor to hold her small boat in place. Perhaps it is what is left over of her heavily orchestrated life as a religious leader, or maybe just the wishes of a girl who had very little structure in her life as a child? One can not be entirely sure, but one can note the distress that radiates from her when things are just not so and things don't go the way they are supposed to go. Alderaan is a planner, a schemer yet knows that even the best laid plans of mice and men do not always go as they are planned. However, she she can bend and flex for certain people.

Stubborn as a mule at times, but at other times she can sway like a young tree in a storm – she is malleable only to the point where her pride will allow. 

For Alderaan's pride and steel spine are of utmost importance to her. She does not like to be made out to look like a fool, the eccentric air of over-education and dry books permeating her good intentions to the point of skewing when the air allows it. She must be in control. Headstrong, proud and vain, she is a woman of discipline and hard lines. So strong are these qualities that they will lead her to outright deny known facts, even to herself to the point where she will believe that she didn't actually do anything wrong. She can be volatile when confronted, lashing out – something she would of never done prior to the past year and a half. She knows that deep down she is not completely well though she puts on a good guise; the traumatic, violent acts that she was subjected to nestled safely under a smile and a coy tilt of her head. Yet, that doesn't change the fact that she is a loyal and steadfast woman. 

She loves with her entire being even if there is only enough room for a few others. She would lay down her life for those few; bleed herself dry to save them any pain.
Daughter of General Patton x Werewolf 

» Pre-Pantheon
Born of Werewolf and by General Patton, the evil winged terror of Cimoron Island and a Neutral Soldier, Alderaan's coming into the world was a most uncertain thing. It was nothing short of a miracle that the babe lived considering Werewolf's history of murdering and devouring her children – but with the help and quick thinking of her father, Alderaan did manage to survive the first moments of her life. Whisked away in the wee hours of a winter morning, she only knew her mother but for a moment before Patton smuggled her away to live in hiding among the outcasts and refugees of their home. Thankfully she looked very little like her mother; instead taking after her warrior father, dressed in a christening gown black as a funeral. The only things that would betray her being the yellow glint of her eyes and the sharp incisors that cut her lips, the latter being removed (be it painfully) as soon as they erupted for the wet nurse refused to feed the girl if they remained rooted in her jaws. 

Shortly after her birth, the Island fell into disarray. A terrible natural disaster destroyed the lands, forcing the residents to flee or die. Patton, at the last moment decided to bundle up his infant daughter and flee the island like the rest – unsure of where he was going but knowing that wherever it was, it was better than the destruction at his back. So he took to the land bridge with nothing but his skills and a prayer, the child slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. All the girl ever knew of her first home was the reverberation of it's death – the final throes of it's demise as the ground rumbled underneath her father's feet the the swelling of the ocean as it overcame the land. They wandered for some time before finally finding their way to Pantheon; it was here that Alderaan called her real home for that was the only home she knew. Her father claimed her a native, and so she was. 

» Pantheon

The small family settled down into the rainy, pastured wetlands in the far North. It was a land of tall green grass, overfull rivers and hills – the lack of trees replaced with the white puffs of sheep as they dotted the horizon. Her father taking to the earth as a farmer during the summer and as a man of odd jobs in the winter to keep her fed and warm. He was affectionate and cared deeply, but he was a distant man of very few words who seemed trapped in his own world. As Alderaan grew older and understood more, she realized that it was partially his personality but also the ghosts of his past that kept him staring quietly at the fire in the wee hours of the morning while she hurried to close the windows against the newest storm. It didn't stop him from playing games with her however and telling her stories, for when he was there, he was a very attentive father. The pair were so incredibly close, it near broke them when he approached her with the prospect of Seminary School in the Capital. Ally didn't want to, of course, that would mean she would be leaving him alone in their little house and he would have to take care of himself. He had been getting worse as of late. How could he manage without someone to keep him fed and out of trouble?

Yet, Alderaan was no ordinary child. Patton knew that. He had seen the way she could manipulate the lantern lights in the room with nothing but a look; how she could see the patterns and webs in the air like blueprints. The pieces she could take and change to fit her will. She had no home here anymore – for she had been accepted by the Gods of their new home; she had been blessed and Patton was as barren as the dirt in December. He couldn't show her how to use it or how to grow with it, but he had been approached by messengers from the South; everyone had in the small grouping of houses they called home. The Capital – the King Narcissus of fire, was looking for fledglings to accept into his fold of Aether Doctrine, he was looking for young talented children to mold into great beings, or so he said. Patton knew his daughter would flourish there for she was such a smart child, proud, but incredibly intelligent and gentle. The church would be sore to miss her and he didn't want to take away any opportunity for greatness from his only child. You must go, he told her shortly after her first birthday, you must go and never look back dear heart. This was not her future, these fields of rain and grass and dirt. Despite her misgivings on the whole matter, he was still her parent and he forced her to leave. He gave her his blessings, loaded her trunk and never saw her again even though their letters were frequent until his death a year later. He would die alone and poor with only a daughter and grave marked with a stone to remember him by. The grief of his death a sore reminder of the consequences and blessings that seemed to follow her wherever she went. 

But, even though her feet were heavy with regret of leaving her home, she followed that caravan as it winded it's way through the lands over the dirt roads. Places that she had heard about but never gone, places that she never even knew existed outside of the four stone walls of her life and the pastures that stretched even further. Alderaan couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of adventures, the new sights and sounds that assaulted her with such grandeur. It was on this great caravan trail that she met her first real friend; her companion, her confidant, her daemon. He was under a tree stump in the flats, hiding from a large snake and chattering up a storm – the small ferrets distress was palpable as Alderaan came to his rescue. The snake didn't want anything to do with her large feet and quickly abandoned his prey for a less feisty, guarded meal. When the small creature finally left his hiding spot and locked eyes with the girl, they were both suddenly surprised to feel the tenuous link between them – a thread that stretched and spun on which they could hear each other. His name was Opma and he would become her whole world for some time; he was her study companion and the only other being on the world she could confide in no matter what. He joined her on the rest of her journey, even following her into the Capital as they paraded in under those blue banners; his snarky comments filling her head like a buzzing hive of noise. And yet, it was comforting among all the clatter of the cobblestone streets and strangers. 

She quickly grew accustomed to the noise though; quickly fell into the natural roll and tumble of the city and her lessons at the cathedral. She honed her ability to manipulate light, read every book she could get her hands on – forever she seemed to be hungry for knowledge and the religious teachers directed her insatiable appetite toward the means of their choosing. They taught her sermons and prayers, they taught her healing techniques to help the poor and sickly of her home, they paraded her about like a show pony and she was none the wiser to their efforts. Alderaan took it all in stride, happy to be used and have a purpose, for what does any teenager require more than anything else? Acceptance and structure, a use for her body and soul. She was perhaps brainwashed on the matter; maybe she was so closed in and locked into place that she didn't realize that things were not as they claimed to be? She didn't know. She was a child who took to the gentle pushes and pulls with no resistance. Alderaan however did not spend all her time in the big buildings of virtue; she spent her weekends running errands for the Gate Master – a messenger and a delivery girl for pocket change to keep her and Opma fed and out of trouble. It was on one of these jobs she met the Azoic Queen Adelita and fell ill. Only then did she realize that was how her Aether magic worked – she was growing stronger and at the same time becoming more pale. The black dress she had been born with was changing; the light bleaching out her natural color to accommodate it's new body. A body that belonged to her no longer.

Not long after this trip, word of powers managed to make it's way to the ears of the Incendiary King. He requested for her to finish her lessons in his house under his own Priestess – his intentions were clear. He was seeking to groom her into another for his keeping. But, alas, on the last weekend she was in the capital, she met a man. He was a surly gent who was eating candy in the street like he owned the damn place but she was curious and brave; she didn't know fear as she coaxed him into speaking with her even if Opma was weary of his size and heavy eyebrows. He was obviously not the proper companion for a girl of the seminary and Opma repeatedly told her under his breath. Alderaan didn't know what drew her closer; she didn't know what made her want to talk to him but she was happy to call him a friend by the end of that meeting. She bid Gabriel farewell and on the next day she left for the Incendiary region, leaving another home and more friends than she could count. She traded it all for the chance to be something greater than she was though somewhere deep down she knew that she had no control over what was going on in her life. She had been chosen by the Light itself, blessed by it's radiant touch to walk the Earth and no one was going to get in it's way – not an army of soldiers, not even one man standing in a street and watching her leave for what may have been forever. 

Alderaan grew up under the ministrations of the Incendiary's native priestess; learning many things and becoming stronger every day. Narcissus kept her hidden for some time, only letting her walk the grounds with guards a few days a week and the rest of the time tucked safely within the Chapel with her teacher. She made friends though in her time there, accepting their gentle voices and graceful touches. She had realized in that short time that she was something special and perhaps she did let that go to her head a bit, her pride and ego swelling with the promise of a bright future rested upon her shoulders. But she never did forget Gabriel in the street – all the work it took to get him to smile. She had found herself fond of him in the way that young women tend to be fond of men but even she knew that there was no future there. But she could keep her secrets to herself. She had gotten good at that. And given all the hush about her presence, she was struck surprised when Narcissus invited her to his annual masquerade ball. He had never spoken of letting her do anything like that before but took it like a bird to the wind, hesitation thrown to the side as she accepted the invite. How surprised she was though to see Gabriel in the crowd of masked faces for there was no guise that could hide him from her. She approached him for the second time in their lives, this time asking him to dance with her knowing full well she was playing a game she wasn't allowed to play. She thought no one was paying attention to them among all those faces but she was wrong; she had caught the attention of the superstitious eyes of her King and her teacher though they said nothing even if they saw the way she looked at her dance partner. They kept an even closer eye on her after that. 

Gabriel took himself to being a guard for a short time in the castle – the simple question of whether at his own request or of hers, it was never really known. But the pair grew closer, garnering many looks and whispers even though they were always an arms length apart. Enough to make Narcissus anxious enough to send Gabriel away, back to the capital and far away from the sanctity of his future Priestess. He was stationed back to the gates to leave Alderaan alone again with nothing but her books and her teacher's sharp eyes to keep her company. She continued to study however, using it as a distraction until she was at last nominated to be ordained – so back to the Capital she went, as a Priestess needs to be washed in the waters of the Cathedral before the statues of the Deities. She knew that with this she would be able to see Gabriel again, but also that if she was ordained, she would be giving up a future she wasn't entirely sure she didn't want. To be a Priestess was to be immortal, it was to be unchanging, it was to be childless and loveless. Never before had she thought of such repercussions and consequences until now, and as she watched her belongings being loaded, she was shivering to her marrow. But she went nonetheless – back into the loud world of arches and people and the eyes of thousands. And Alderaan did it. She stood on those alter steps and took her oaths; bathed her skin in the waters and accepted her position. It was a beautiful ceremony, everyone watching her as she recited her first prayers before the clergy and congregation. They mistook the wavering of her voice for happiness – they didn't see the reluctance hidden under all that gold and silk. 

On the night of her ordainment, while everyone was celebrating in the Cathedral, Alderaan slipped away into the cold winter night like some kind of thief. She was so unsure of what she had done, already knowing that perhaps it had all been a mistake yet there was no way to turn back now. She could feel the power under her skin, the immortality and strength bubbling up through her pores and freezing her like a stature even as she breathed. But all of this couldn't stop the shivering or the tears that flooded down her cheeks. This had been what she always wanted, right? She didn't know anymore, she had to admit that now as she wandered about in the snow like a beggar only to run right into Gabriel once again on his way back from his watch. He took her in that night, grumbling about her getting sick when they both knew she couldn't – but she was tired, and instead of returning back to the cathedral like she was supposed to, she stayed with him. Spending the night in his bed while he slept on the floor. In the morning, she finally told him how much she cared for him; that she loved him. He kissed her in that small room for the first time, both of them knowing what kind of mess they were getting themselves into but neither of them caring. 

And so the two of them lived like this – this strange romantic relationship built in secret for no one else to see. No one else needed to know their quiet evenings together in his little home; no one else needed to know the fascination and infatuation between them. There was no urge to divulge their murmured words or the way they orbited each other like two heavenly bodies; so close as to feel each others gravity but never touching for the fear of being trapped. Yet Alderaan refused to give up her position for him – that was one thing her pride would not allow. She continued to perform all her duties as a Priestess: giving her prayers and helping the less fortunate; conducting lessons to the next generation behind her. She chased the choir boys out of the courtyard and fed the doves in the aviary. All while she was secretly slipping away to be with him. She lived a double life but never really lived either. She was half in and half out, afraid to let herself fall completely one way or the other. Gabriel never pushed the subject though. He knew how much all this meant to her and seemed happy just to have her share his space. She was someone to return to and burn time with; someone to drink with and talk to into the wee hours of the morning. Both of them wrapped up so tightly as the wind rattled the panes of glass in that little house. Alderaan was even fond of Amitiel though Opma wasn't a huge fan. 

But with each passing day, they became braver and bolder, especially Gabriel. He had become fixated, centered upon her in the same way she used him as an anchor. They played with the unspoken things between them like children play with toys and it only escalated from there. He insisted on walking her to the Cathedral most every morning, so close as to rub shoulders with her though Alderaan didn't protest. She loved him, every inch of him, and she near suffocated watching him walk away from her into the street while she remained still upon those great steps. But on those steps she stayed, holding herself like a small child. But as boldness often does, it attracts attention. The pair seemed to draw eyes like no others. Though this time it was the eyes of her head-priestess, the mouth that told her bluntly and firmly that this couldn't continue. Alderaan had to let him go. This game they played was cruel for both parties and if she loved him, truly loved him, that tie needed to be severed once and for all. Or, the other option was that she renounce her priesthood. Neither of which appealed to the young woman, for both felt as if she was cutting off a limb. She ignored the orders of her superior, headstrong and proud as she was. She refused to admit that she was in the wrong and as punishment for her insubordination, Alderaan was forced to reside within the walls of the Cathedral until a decision had been made. Instead of going back to the Incendiary realm as planned, she was to become a Sentry Priest – married to the shrine of her head-priestess's choosing. It never came to that though, as it seemed there were other plans and forces at work that no one could see coming. 

» The Fall of Pantheon and the Uruk Horde -

For weeks she was held prisoner in her own shrine, unable to leave – the repercussions for her inability to listen, as her head priestess put it. All Alderaan saw it as was a way to keep a close eye on her; to keep her away from another bad decision. 'The Rebellious young Priestess' didn't know what kind of decisions she was making and what that would cost everyone else, or so she said. However, that didn't stop her for long; the young woman had gotten proficient at sneaking about during her years of service and put her skills to good use. Little did she know that that day would be the start of the end of everything she knew. Little did she know that this would be the last time she would stand upon those steps and bid Gabriel good bye as the sun rose up over those alabaster rooftops – with a smile and a lingering glance for fear of a chaste embrace and what would come with it. That was the last time she saw him without chains. She waited for him that evening but he never showed; she wrote it off by telling herself that maybe he had been called to watch the gates and couldn't get away. But when he didn't show up the next morning, Alderaan knew something wasn't quiet right. And then the fires started to the East – slow deliberate things that heralded the death that followed in their wake. They seemed to laugh as they danced across the countryside like flaming banners before Pantheon's executioners and by the time anyone counted them as a real threat, they were already upon the capital like an infestation. The droves of beasts that called themselves the Uruk had taken most everything; selfishly stealing everything worth it's weight in gold and destroying everything else like the mongrels they were. They had no respect for the lives they stole or the price they had to pay to take them. For what is there to fear more than creatures who do not fear death? 

It became obvious rather quickly that this was no small threat. Evacuation orders had been given to the boroughs to the East first, guards and soldiers making blockades in the streets and at the gates while the Azoic and Incendiary forces bled into the soil to the North and South. The Clergy, at the request of the Kings and Queens of their respected regions, had reported to the Cathedral; most of them useless in the wake of such atrocities and others steeling their spine for what they knew would be coming to their door. But among all the panic, Alderaan did her best to keep a level head even as fear bubbled up inside her like a underground spring. Quietly, one evening, she requested a Captain and a few of his men to seek out the one thing she cared about above all else – Gabriel. A request that was completely selfish for there really wasn't enough men to go around. She hadn't seen him in days and the thought of him being out there among the body count chilled her to the bone; or worse that he was out there bleeding out among all the other dying men. But their search was for a ghost; they never did find him. Instead they came back empty handed; no words to soothe the Priestess as fear turned into rage. If he could not be found, if there was no body, it only proved to her that he had abandoned her. He had finally forsaken her like she had always been afraid of. She hated him for that, taking to throwing things about the chapel even as the great beasts of light around her coiled with dark intent; their jaws agape with white hot teeth. The guards were quick to flee from her after that, afraid of the manic hysteria and grief that boiled under her skin. 

She tried to keep busy after that. The Divine Aether turning the Cathedral into a hospital of sorts, the clergy bandaging up the weak and wounded while the refugees made camp in the courtyard, and Alderaan helped orchestrate all of this even as her world burned down around her. But all of this was a short lived reprieve as at last the message came though – Narcissus and the Incendiary men had fallen, or perhaps the King had at last abandoned his post when he realized all was lost. The latter was probably more likely. Either way, as the clergy looked at what was left around them they knew it was only a matter of time before the horde was at their door. In a final desperate move, they gathered their scrolls and guts and went to the roof of the Cathedral and stood under that dark sky to make a last stand. Not a one of them had ever performed anything like they were going to attempt and they all secretly knew that this could backfire terribly but each soul there knew what the price would be if they didn't. The Priesthood bound themselves together; the chains of Light and Time and Death and Life linking their souls as one being – such a heavy burden to bare as all eyes turned to the skies and the large blue banners that sang pitifully in the smoke heavy air. It started out almost like a whisper; the hum of their voices all praying in unison as they swayed in a big circle but it grew louder with each incantation, these words that Alderaan had been taught but told never to use for fear of what may come from them. The air turned hostile, seething despite the winter chill that clung. Alderaan then knew why this had been forbidden. She felt all the power shock her senses; an overwhelming flood so strong as to near bring her to her knees but she held her own as best as she could, wavering like a specter on the veil as her physical body struggled to contain what had been forced into it. She was no more than a vessel – they all were. Vessels clinging to each other like children as the magic they had worshiped as holy ripped them apart. 

It dawned on her then, in a thought like a spectator, that she was going to die here. There was no way that her body would be able to survive this kind of power. The others must have been thinking it too but no one could voice their concerns on the matter; all were trapped in an unending loop as the dome of white light surrounded them and grew out exponentially. She briefly felt the eradication of her own powers in the bloom and chaos – the death of her light beasts no more than blips on the great map of her life. She saw Gabriel and her friends bleed across her vision for just a breath. Alderaan saw every memory that was hers and every memory that was not; the shared experiences of every member of that circle fading into each other until they were no more than a series of images and times and places that made no sense to her but at the same time did. But as quickly as they started they were gone, washed out in the light of the dome as it continued to grow out and encompass the Cathedral and the houses around it. But something was wrong. It started as a noise; the rattling of chains as the golden metal that linked them started to crumble under the stress – the bonds that held them cracking and then shattering into dust that floated away in the wind. The God's had deemed them unworthy of saving and even Alderaan as the youngest and most inexperienced knew that. The dome collapsed upon itself, falling into a straight beam that stabbed the sky in a blaze of light – the force enough to break the circle of priests in every direction; some of them dying in the impact with the stone spires that rose above them; others bleeding from wounds. The power rolled out like ripples, so strong that the ground shook under their feet in long, slow languid waves. Everyone for miles could feel it. Everyone knew that they had failed their home. That the God's had forsaken them. 

For a long time all the young priestess could see was black. She felt so distant from her body, a million miles away but also right there as her body struggled to rouse itself. But when it finally did, all she could feel was pain and an indescribable emptiness in her bones. She looked about at the other members of her circle and they all looked back at her; all of them sharing the same expression. They knew as well as she did that the link to their magic had been severed. They were mortal and they were helpless. Slowly she drew her battered frame up off the stones, every inch of her screaming in agony as she struggled to put her feet underneath her. But something grasped her by the hair, pulling her back to the ground as soon as she tried to rise – the Uruk beasts had climbed the stairs to the Cathedral during her blackout; their bulk like great gargoyles upon the peaks of the holy building. Alderaan fought the claws that drug her down those steps, tooth and nail until she was deposited upon the carpeted chapel. She looked up then and beheld the face she would forever remember. He called himself Urbarra; the bird upon his shoulder was Nur making him a beast master. Though there was no skill or mastery in his gaze as she came face to face with him in that dark room for the very first time. He smiled at her, at all of the clergy as they struggled to their feet, and told them they all belonged to him now. And if they were good they would all survive this rather unfortunate series of events.

She was forced to her feet at last, an order from the man who now owned her, or at least he said he did. Alderaan just glared at him as his men proceeded to strip and dismantle not only her and the clergy's garb but the beautiful interior of the Cathedral all around her. The delicate chain; the sun and stars and moons that had draped from her plait, broken into pieces and thrown to her feet as a heathen paraded about with her desecrated veil draped across his shoulders. Only one sad moon and star remained; glimmering meekly against her ash streaked neck. She did her best not to let her fear show; her pride keeping her jaw tight and her eyes sharp but even with every askance glance, Urbarra didn't shy from her gaze. If anything, he seemed to like the fight in her – purposely pressing his shoulder and side against her skin, his mouth placed into the hollow place where her neck met her collar; the intimate places she had only had one man near enough to touch. He seemed to revel in the way he made her skin crawl, the way she attempted to sidestep away from him only to be greeted by the gleeful face of another demon. No matter where she stood, she lost. So Alderaan remained steadfast and stared hard at the bronze statue of time and prayed for it to move quickly. But of course that would be too much to ask for. But finally, Urbarra seemed to grow bored of resting his head across her shoulders and listening to her breath hitch uncomfortably – he was ready to move even if the older members of the clergy were not. So with that, he paraded them out of the Cathedral and down the steps one at a time in the firelight cast by their burning relics in the courtyard. The Beast Master wanted everyone to see the ghostly light in the Priesthood's eyes as the world burned down around them all. She was the last one out of that building; the cries of a mourning mother only serving to embolden her defiance as she lifted her head and showed not a falter. Proud and icy, the young Priestess missed not one step despite the tears that threatened to betray her. She would never give him the satisfaction. 

They marched in a quiet line through the city streets; flanked on either side by the hyena like men who seemed to listen to Urbarra's orders. They were obviously his men while the rest of the beasts running rampant in the streets had no master or king to account to. But she didn't look anywhere but forward, desperately attempting to avert her eyes from the stricken faces that looked back at her. There was no one that could save any of them now so she didn't know why they looked at her or the others behind her for answers. It was a silent, solemn trek as they moved under the blood red sky - down the streets single file as they filled with ash and debris. Until she realized which cobblestone they were going down on their way to the Western Gate; the very pebbled road she had walked so many times only to disappear into the dark doorway of Gabriel's home. Alderaan was not prepared to see it suddenly roar into flames from the neighboring building, the ache in her heart causing her to burst into action. She rushed the line of men that surrounded her, screaming at the top of her lungs because she knew that Opma was inside and it was her fault he was there. She had sent him to wait and now, as the glass window panes exploded out into the street, she knew she had sent him to his death. Alderaan felt his panic, his raw fear through the link as he attempted to escape only to be cut off. And then the pain as the fire consumed his body, the agony as it swallowed him up until there was nothing but fear and torture and heat. She struggled against the bodies that held here there, crying for her daemon until the Beast Master came back to see what the fuss was about. She had never been struck by a man before in her life, it didn't register as he met her with a closed fist that put her instantly to the ground in a heap of sobbing pain. Opma was silent, their link severed. He was dead in her burning home. The pain of Urbarra's strike nothing compared to the emptiness left in the wake of Opma's absence even with the dull ache in her temple cruelly reminding her over and over again. 

He didn't wait for her to recover from his assault, instead he had her forced to her feet by her hair once again. He told her to keep her mouth shut and if she must cry, do it quietly because he had no patience for hysterical women. All she could do was glare at him through her rimmed eyes, blood turning her vision red and staining her white hide crimson from the wound he had inflicted. She hated him – full blown hatred that refused to let her look away as he rejoined the other men at the front of line: one winged, the other a thick headed lump of a brute with a missing ear. She didn't know their names but she knew they were not her friends; the suggestive way they leered and fell back to nip at the sides of the seminary girls in front of her told her all she needed to know. They were the kind of men that lived for the conquest of flesh and the revelations of brute force; Alderaan would be wise to stay clear of the pair and their greedy appetites. Urbarra didn't seem to care what they did as long as they eventually returned to his side like obedient dogs. It went on like this for a long time – this back and forth as they walked quietly under the torn banners and ransacked gates, out into the desert wastes of the West and the blistering sun that seemed to not care how much ash was in the sky. For a day they marched like this until they at last could see where they were going. A large encampment, tents, men and women shuffling and going about their business in the dry desert air. The young Priestess had a hard time believing all of these horses had been camped out here and not a damn soul in all of Pantheon had noticed them. Not one soldier noticed the amassed monsters as they loaded their carts and got fat off the blood and wealth of her home now burning at her back. 

-still under construction, mind our mess-
Healing sorcery - level sapphire

»» Alderaan at last has accepted a gift from a deity. A power, a magic, though not the one she was gifted and raised with. Instead, she has accepted the gift of healing from Vasanta to aid her with the profession she has chosen to take now. Her skills as a chemist still incredibly sharp but now, she has a little power to back up her knowledge and skill when it comes to brass tacks.

Her new powers are just fledgling; she is just learning how to use them. Mostly now she can heal nicks and scraps, small cuts and infections though all of these come with a price - a price only she can pay. It is taxing, this new power of hers and if used too much, will near wipe her out. Her reserves are shallow and small. Sometimes her magic doesn't seem to work at all for her and leaves her frustrated to the point of pulling out her own hair. How far the priestess has fallen from the Illuminatus she was once. It is pretty though, this healing magic of hers. It, like the like the light magic she once possessed, is made up of a warm glow of delicate fractals like that of a web spreading out into the skin of those she can help. Each time it is a different pattern, a blueprint of light with a new purpose. Pretty but almost useless outside of the occasional twisted ankle.
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Gender Mare
Age 7 year old
Height 16.3 hh
Breed Warlander x Gypsy Draft + Paint
Sexuality Pansexual
Player PoloLoco
90 posts • 15,620€ Carats Message MeTag Me: @Alderaan

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