S. P. E. C. T. R. E. and S. H. A. D. O. W. Conference (storyline)/2024-10-05 - Lecture 2 - Ancient Burial Rites (log)
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Summary
Lecture #2 of 6 from the S. P. E. C. T. R. E. and S. H. A. D. O. W. Conference. Speaker Ermias Dunholme presented about Ancient Burial Rites, using dreamfire panel illusions to illustrate various locations and scenes. Log is taken from Phanna's point of view and has been edited to focus on the lecture itself.
Log
Issuing from the lobby, a chime suddenly echoes through the hotel, announcing that the next lecture of S. P. E. C. T. R. E and S. H. A. D. O. W. Conference is about to begin in the library. You see Researcher Ermias Dunholme the Archaeologist. Due to the ghezyte-inlaid mask he wears, it is difficult to determine his race...or even whether he is living or dead. He is very tall. His features are hidden beneath a fractured ghezyte-inlaid corpse mask with pale milky lips, though his bloodshot hazel eyes shine through. He has close-cropped, fine sandy blonde hair lined with silver streaks. Little else about his appearance is easy to distinguish. He is in good shape. He is wearing a watered grey silk jacket interwoven with milky blue threads, a pair of scratched ebon wood-framed spectacles with cracked glass lenses, a worn leather shoulder satchel, a white linen tunic, a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels, an engraved silver pocket watch strung from a thin chain, some grey cotton pants hemmed with pale blue threads, and some smooth wooden sandals held with silvery spidersilk. Ermias nods. Blodeuyn says, "I will return. There are things to check on..." Ermias softly says, "Good, they have announced me." Manager Blodeuyn just loped out. Ermias softly says, "I will give everyone a minute to settle, and then we will proceed." Meliyara takes a moment to observe Ermias. Erienne turns to face Ermias. Caedenmon nods slowly at Raelee. Faiyth grins at Ermias. Raelee nods slightly at Caedenmon. Ermias fidgets with his wristlet. Liras turns to face Ermias. Faelynth glances at Ermias. Lych attaches a cluster of hemp-tied coffin nails to her wrist. Ermias softly says, "Good day. I am Ermias Dunholme. I am know to many as an archaeologist. In truth, I am simply an explorer who documents and explores tradition. I appreciate the invitation today to join you to speak on ancient burial rites." Ermias nods. Rovvigen grins at Ermias. You gaze with interest at Ermias. Erienne applauds Ermias politely. Ermias softly says, "In spite of the difficulties ongoing at this conference, and what has apparently happened to one member of the staff, I am committed to continuing on with this discussion." Rovvigen turns an inquisitive ear toward Ermias. Faiyth turns an inquisitive ear toward Ermias. Alicea applauds Ermias. Raelee quietly states, "Good." Ermias softly says, "I have been invited here because I am considered an expert in funerary traditions. And I would not miss an opportunity to discuss such topics in a setting such as this, with both the living and the dead. Because every artifact, every tomb? They have stories to tell." Ermias nods eagerly. Missoni nods appreciatively at Ermias. Meliyara nods in agreement at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Indeed, it is an absolute pleasure to be in attendance. After today's lecture, I look forward to exploring this... place." Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Ermias softly says, "Today, I will offer insight into cultural customs, but more importantly I wish to open a door for you to consider all that surrounds us and which often goes overlooked. Indeed, I know many of us seek such a goal this weekend." Ermias softly says, "Because a door is an apt metaphor. Death, as is poetically noted, is life's preeminent door. Without exception, it is one all creatures must pass through. Whether or not it returns from this passage, however, is a different... topic of study." Ermias coughs. Ermias softly says, "While others in attendance here would agree that both sides of this balance fascinate, or insist on spending countless hours researching how to hold this door open to ensure passage in either direction, today I will offer instead a moment of reflection: what can we learn about life, time, and ourselves in observing the nature of this passage." Ermias glances at Caedenmon. Ermias softly says, "Before we truly begin, a small note: as part of my presentation, I will be employing a most curious technology. One that allows me to recreate events I have witnessed with my own eyes. Behold." Ermias softly says, "My research has taken me across Elanthia, from lonely, foggy vales outside of Wehnimer's Landing to the very heart of fire within Kharam Dzu. On this device, I have recorded images that I hope will both fascinate and instruct." Ermias softly says, "Do not be fearful or confused. The images and scenes you will witness are merely an ILLUSION. Some are of locales I have studied; I invite you to PEER or GAZE at these. Others represent objects or scenarios I believe will be instructive for us to consider. Please LOOK at those to best consider them." Ermias softly says, "Also, I periodically must infuse essence into this device. That takes a visible, physical toll on me. Do not be alarmed. I am an expert in this device's use and know how to employ it safely." Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Ermias focuses intently on his wristlet, causing a brief indigo glow. He looks slightly drained. Ermias shivers. Ermias softly says, "Now, without further delay, I invite you to ponder death itself. And, given our short time today, to consider how you might approach the study of death and its rites if you wish to learn more in the future. Or, in the case of our surroundings, the immediate present." Philomina squeakily breathes, "How wonderous." Ermias chuckles. Ermias softly says, "Death, the final passage of one's spirit, and the associated customs are outwardly a conundrum, simultaneously the most public event of our lives and an intimately private affair that we inexorably cannot ever truly share with another." Opalina quietly says, "At least he won't blow up." Opalina stares at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Behold." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a robed Gosaena illusion. Before you rises the flickering image of a tall, robed woman carved as a massive stone statue. Beautiful and ethereal, she stares ahead with serene impartiality. Peeking out beneath her full cloak are a pair of sturdy wings. Held carelessly in her hand is a lethal-looking sickle. The curve of her sickle mirrors the curve of her lip. Although a robed Gosaena illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Ermias softly says, "Behold, Lady Gosaena. From the gregarious commoner in Wehnimer's Landing to the taciturn, lone elf in Ta'Vaalor and so many cultures, races, and customs in-between, she is the end. We all face her on our own time, and all cultures and customs have her as a backdrop to everything that has and will happen when it comes to death." Ermias softly says, "That is not anything novel. But some would consider Gosaena an ultimate truth, underlying anything else we may yet consider or discuss." Rovvigen softly says, "Beautiful." Faiyth says, "Gorgeous." Ermias softly says, "I consider it a useful grounding point, as no matter where one goes in their research of funerary rites and customs, she walks alongside and merits attention." Faiyth says, "Love the wings." Nisugi gazes with interest at a robed Gosaena illusion. Ermias softly says, "I also caution one to not stare too long into her serene visage. Although a constant companion in the research of final death, some find her eyes intoxicatingly impossible to avoid in life once you begin to gaze. And, thereafter, you're stuck. Aren't you? Well, anyway." Ermias flashes a toothy grin. Raelee gazes thoughtfully at a robed Gosaena illusion. Ermias softly says, "I will now proceed onward." Ermias dismisses a robed Gosaena illusion. A robed Gosaena illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a winged woman panel is on top. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a serene winged woman illusion. Ermias softly says, "Friends, GAZE upon this illusion with me." You gaze with interest at a serene winged woman illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Cleric Guild, Grey Hall] Two statues gaze down from the eastern wall, each separated by a fluted marble column. One is a robed figure whose head is hidden in the folds of her robes with feathered wings folded at her sides, while the other is a depiction of pure madness, her hair flowing wildly about her crazed face. Arcing patterns of moonstone and silver wind their way across the smooth white floor, interwoven with one another in a tranquil dance in the center, and a more frenzied fashion toward the edges. You pull your gaze away from the woman illusion, and your senses clear. Ermias softly says, "This is the Grey Hall, in the Elven Nations, a land of greenery. There, our serene Lady always watches. Similarly..." Saleigh says, "Beautiful." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a Gosaena shrine panel is on top. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a pale winged woman illusion. You gaze with interest at a pale winged woman illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Cleric Guild, Lava Room] The room is filled with bubbling magma. A small island sits in the center of the pool, connected to the outside by a thin stone bridge. On the island stands a tall statue of a woman, her wings stretching high into the cavern. Pieces of skeletons ring both shores of the lava lake, some trying to crawl away, others towards the beautiful statue. A pedestal of stone rests at her feet. It reads: 'Death is the ultimate journey.' You pull your gaze away from the woman illusion, and your senses clear. Ermias softly says, "Whereas, under the mountain, alongside rivers of literal fire in mineral heat that clouds the mind and overwhelms senses, we similarly see our serene Lady." Kialeigh says, "How miraclous." Ermias softly says, "Death is death, dispassionate to conditions because the call is the same: to receive us as we walk through an inevitable door." Ermias softly says, "Please, take a moment to GAZE upon these two contrasting locations and then we will proceed." Ermias seems to be waiting for something. Ermias softly says, "Moving on." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a tree-lined Potter's Field panel is on top. Ermias dismisses a pale winged woman illusion. A pale winged woman illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias dismisses a serene winged woman illusion. A serene winged woman illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias softly says, "So what we are left with is what we always have had: each other. The customs shared between strangers and friends, between lovers and those with enmity. Between like citizens and those living nations apart, and even between contemporaries and those who will never meet because they live at different times." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a ruined Potter's Field illusion. Ermias nods to a ruined Potter's Field illusion. You gaze with interest at a ruined Potter's Field illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Ruined Potter's Field] A particularly large oak intrudes upon the path with its enormous roots reaching out as if to grasp the pathway and pull it right out of the ground. A small stone marker has been uprooted next to the oak, pushed aside by the gnarled wooden growth. You pull your gaze away from the Potter's Field illusion, and your senses clear. Faelynth nods in agreement. Ermias softly says, "As you GAZE upon this landscape, I wish to set a baseline. A simple marker, uprooted by time and life itself. While death customs are universal, there is often little outward to distinguish one passing from another." Ermias softly says, "This is just outside the Landing." Ermias softly says, "In an area quite often forgotten." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a slate grey stone marker panel is on top. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a cracked stone marker illusion. This flickering illusion is of a small stone marker. Its face is slicked, rubbed mostly smooth from weather and the passage of time. Beneath the marker, a series of illusory roots flicker out of the ground, simulating how the stone has been displaced by nature. The marker's surface has a single, prominent crack across its face that cuts through the sole word remaining visible: BELOVED. Although a cracked stone marker illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Saleigh says, "A sad spot." Caedenmon glances at a cracked stone marker illusion. Ermias softly says, "After a time, little outwardly remains to tell the tale. A simple marker, unremarkable stone for an unremarkable life. It is possible that this person was indeed missed, beloved by some enough to remark upon it in permanence. Although, in fairness, funerary niceties and speaking respectfully of the dead are some of the oldest rites that one may observe." Faiyth says, "Ahhh, Beloved..." Ermias softly says, "Consider these two illusions in tandem for a moment, and then we shall proceed." Ermias glances at Faiyth. Ermias puts a single finger up to his pursed lips in Faiyth's direction. Ermias seems to be waiting for something. Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Callayne says, "Beloved." Ermias softly asks, "Any questions, or may I proceed?" Maylan nods at Ermias. Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a granite-hued Landing crypt panel is on top. Ermias dismisses a cracked stone marker illusion. A cracked stone marker illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias dismisses a ruined Potter's Field illusion. A ruined Potter's Field illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Missoni nods encouragingly at Ermias. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a Landing crypt illusion. Faiyth says, "Many.." Opalina looks thoughtfully at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "From one grave outside Wehnimer's Landing to another, I merely seek for you to use our short time to consider how you might approach your future interactions with the dead. GAZE with me, friends." You gaze with interest at a Landing crypt illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Graveyard, Crypt] The entry foyer to this enormous granite crypt is stark, adorned only with grisly friezes sculpted in low relief into the walls. Bands of bluish-green ahnver are inlaid into the stone in thin strips just below the ceiling throughout the entire structure, bathing the rooms in a subtle light. A shadowy arch curves overhead and leads deeper into the inner sanctum of the sepulcher. You pull your gaze away from the crypt illusion, and your senses clear. Faiyth says, "But that was a very engaging presentation." Ermias softly says, "Money is everything. Between the ruined pauper and the deceased noble, we are more often than not left with clues that glorify (or potentially vilify) those with the means to record their expired history. Such as this crypt." Ermias nods to a Landing crypt illusion. Ermias softly says, "Study them. Learn from them. Tell the stories. But do not assume that the answers you glean are the immutable truth. Death, for how straightforward it may feel at times, is nothing if not an ever-blossoming mystery." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a dark coffin-stamped panel is on top. Meliyara looks thoughtfully at Ermias. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a coffin-lined crypt illusion. You gaze with interest at a coffin-lined crypt illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Graveyard, Crypt] You enter the close, stuffy room that houses the sarcophagus of the once-illustrious inhabitant of this imposing crypt. The coffin stands upright against one wall, almost touching the low ceiling, its painted lid stuck open on sagging hinges. You shudder as you notice that there are long, fresh tracks on the dust-covered stone floor. You also see a shadowy arch. You pull your gaze away from the crypt illusion, and your senses clear. Ermias softly says, "As you GAZE at this new illusion of a crypt near Wehnimer's Landing, know also that often this research is perilous. Indeed, sometimes the dead just won't stay dead, as other attendees at this conference will gleefully point out." Ermias softly says, "Occupational hazard, indeed." Ermias mutters under his breath. Lissaya gazes in amusement at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "One time, I was chased around by this mummy like a child scampering away from an older sibling." Ermias sighs. Ermias glances at Caedenmon. Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Ermias softly says, "Across human towns, cities, and greater empire, rituals surrounding death, funerals, and burial abound." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a wrapped corpse panel is on top. Ermias dismisses a coffin-lined crypt illusion. A coffin-lined crypt illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias dismisses a Landing crypt illusion. A Landing crypt illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a shroud-wrapped corpse illusion. Dried out from exposure and time, this flickering illusion depicts a corpse that once belonged to a long-forgotten individual of means. Wrapped in stained linens that have long-since yellowed, bits of faded, leathery skin are visible under the wrapping. The wrapped corpse lies in a glossy black sarcophagus of roughly human shape, the paint of which has greatly chipped and faded. Although a shroud-wrapped corpse illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Ermias softly says, "Indeed, as we LOOK at this latest illusion, we have an example of how generally accepted ideas of human funerals are firmly entrenched with the average populace - rites by clergy of the chosen Arkati, burial in a coffin, and mourning by friends and family, but beyond those pedestrian approaches to perishing lie numerous superstitions that often turn into unique rituals, that can vary town to town or even generation to generation." Ermias softly says, "For those of you who wish to discuss deeper specifics of human rituals, or of any rituals we go over, please feel free to pull me aside throughout the weekend. I would gladly share my research and... speculation." Ermias coughs. Rovvigen smiles at Ermias. Faiyth nods appreciatively at Ermias. Caedenmon squints. Saleigh says, "Thank you." Ermias softly says, "Without objection, I will proceed." Meliyara looks thoughtfully at Ermias. Ermias dismisses a shroud-wrapped corpse illusion. A shroud-wrapped corpse illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Rovvigen grins at Ermias. Ermias focuses intently on his wristlet, causing a brief indigo glow. He looks slightly drained. Ermias pants. Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Speaking softly to Ermias, Rovvigen says, "Its alot but we are following." Ermias nods gratefully at Rovvigen. Ermias softly says, "I am obliged." Ermias softly says, "Now then." Ermias softly says, "Some cultures and races are easier to study than others. The dwarves, for example, are experts at many things, death included." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a square Dwarf Mausoleum panel is on top. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a squat mausoleum illusion. You gaze with interest at a squat mausoleum illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Mausoleum, Tomb] This room was spared the destruction so evident in the other chambers, possibly because it was in the process of renovation. Row after row of gleaming black marble pedestals await stone coffins that will never be placed. Snaking up from small fissures in the stone floor, thorned vines spiral up tall pewter candlesticks and threaten to crush the heavy ceramic urns that line the walls. You pull your gaze away from the mausoleum illusion, and your senses clear. Ermias softly says, "As you GAZE at this beautiful illusion, captured from a mausoleum near the otherwise-ruined Fhorian Village outside Kharam Dzu, tradition is everywhere. Dwarves are known to culturally entomb their dead atop stone, and this is no exception. Note the pristine black marble, resistant to the passage of time. Note the orderly rows. These pedestals reinforce a story of a society that embraces the togetherness of tradition, in both life and death." Ermias gazes with interest at a squat mausoleum illusion. Ermias softly says, "As an example of the peril of this work, there are many other rooms in this tomb. Most are destroyed." Ermias softly says, "So we are forced to use the examples we have." Ermias softly says, "History, indeed, is incomplete." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a crimson-hued pyre-stamped panel is on top. Rovvigen nods understandingly at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "However, we must also consider the dwarves of the Borthuum Company. These dwarves have a ceremonial practice that not only binds them to each other, but to the very fires that run through the heart of their mountain." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a luminous funerary pyre illusion. Ermias nods. Ermias softly says, "Behold. LOOK at this illusion we have here, at a fascinating and profound ceremony. I have been privileged enough to witness ceremonies like this. They are solemn, but with an inexhaustible joy that underlies all." In the flickering image, several dwarves encircle a dark stone funerary slab lined with oil-drenched wood. On this slab, a pale, lifeless figure has been placed. This figure is wrapped in linens, its arms folded around a dark blue mithril axe. One of the standing dwarves holds a stone receptacle filled with bright lava, which they are beginning to empty onto the wood. Although a luminous funerary pyre illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Caedenmon darkly whispers aloud, "Is this a lecture, or a parlor act?" Ermias ignores Caedenmon. Saleigh waves a hand at Caedenmon, dismissing him indifferently. Maylan scoffs at Caedenmon. Missoni frowns at Caedenmon. Speaking to Caedenmon, Silverthorne says, "Not all i have soul magic." Rovvigen softly says, "Lecture and its beautiful." Rovvigen smiles at Caedenmon. Ermias softly says, "The dwarves of the Borthuum Clan honor their legacy and their home with their customs. Funerary pyres, lit by the very fire that runs through the heart of Kharam Dzu, reunite the physical remains of their loved ones. To witness this in person, to be one with the ash and heat and their reunification, is a powerful, almost overwhelming feeling for an outsider." Speaking to Caedenmon, Erienne says, "So far, it has been the best lecture in my opinion. Not that it matters." Ermias nods at Caedenmon. Ermias sticks his tongue out at Caedenmon, and lets out with a loud, "Thbtbtbtbt" from his lips! Erienne says, "My opinion that is." Speaking to Caedenmon, Faiyth says, "We listened to your crazy dark magic. Now it's his turn." Caedenmon can offer Faiyth only a blank expression. Ermias grins. Silverthorne winks at Caedenmon. Ermias softly says, "Now, where was I." Ermias chuckles. Erienne agrees with Ermias. Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Liras glances at Caedenmon. Ermias softly says, "Ah, yes, dwarves." Opalina quietly asks, "Dwarves?" Ermias softly says, "Please, consider the duality of these images." Riend frowns at Caedenmon. Liras says, "Dwarfs." Ermias softly says, "The contrasting ceremonies." Ermias softly says, "One caution, however, about cultural research." Ermias dismisses a luminous funerary pyre illusion. A luminous funerary pyre illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias dismisses a squat mausoleum illusion. A squat mausoleum illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a pale sand-blasted panel is on top. Ermias softly says, "... not to speak of what happens to those Borthuum dwarves who dishonor their clan." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a desiccated dwarf corpse illusion. Before you, low to the ground, lies the flickering image of a deceased dwarf on a wispy plain of ethereal sand. The remains are desiccated by prolonged exposure, stripped bare and left to rot. As you observe, a small lizard crawls from the caracass's dried-out beard before crawling back into a hollowed eye socket. Although a desiccated dwarf corpse illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Ermias nods to a desiccated dwarf corpse illusion. Faiyth glances at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Sometimes, the corpse itself is all the evidence that is either necessary, or all that endures, even if only for a time. LOOK at what remains." Ermias shudders. Saleigh says, "Fascinating." Ermias softly says, "One sees many things in this line of research." Ermias furrows his brow. Ermias softly says, "I will let that sentiment linger for a moment, alongside these images. Though grisly, they are absolutely essential to consider." Rovvigen softly says, "Thats sad, no honor there for either party." Ermias nods at Rovvigen. Ermias softly says, "But it is not on us to decide such things, necessarily." Rovvigen nods at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Customs are by and for those who write them." Ermias dismisses a desiccated dwarf corpse illusion. A desiccated dwarf corpse illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Faiyth says, "Revenge only leaves the one doing it less a person." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until an illustrious icy tomb panel is on top. Ermias softly says, "Sometimes, actions transcend cultural traditions." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a sturdy halfling warrior illusion. A flickering illusion of a sturdy halfling warrior in death's repose rises before you. The figure lies recumbent, atop a funerary slab and below several tiers of finely carved open-work arches, lending to the scene's majesty. The although the figure's finer details have weathered slightly over time, it nonetheless represents a great warrior in their full battle regalia. Although a sturdy halfling warrior illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing an Icemule mausoleum illusion. You gaze with interest at an Icemule mausoleum illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Mausoleum, Grand Chamber] The chamber is large, but quite simple, evidently designed to hold the large tomb resting upon the darkened soil of the floor. Great care was evidently put into the craftsmanship of the tomb, its form elegant and worthy of a hero. You pull your gaze away from the mausoleum illusion, and your senses clear. Ermias softly says, "Behold." Rovvigen softly says, "Paradis." Ermias softly says, "Halfings are rich with tradition, but here we have something that indeed transcends local custom. GAZE upon the illusion of the mausoleum, and then LOOK at that of the warrior." Saleigh says, "Impressive." Ermias takes off a pair of scratched ebon wood-framed spectacles with cracked glass lenses. Opalina quietly exclaims, "I know that place!" Ermias puts on a pair of scratched ebon wood-framed spectacles with cracked glass lenses. Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Ermias nods at Opalina. Ermias softly says, "Note the sculpted regalia. The extensive ornamentation. The quality that, in spite of the passage of time, endures. A beautiful vessel. Beautiful." Ermias softly says, "Not that this doesn't say something about halfings specifically, but imagery like this? It endures, it transcends, and it merits study." Ermias nods. Ermias closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, sighs contentedly, and then opens them again. Rovvigen softly says, "It truly does." Speaking curiously to Opalina, you ask, "Where is it?" Ermias softly says, "If you are ever near Icemule Trace, I urge you to visit this monument in person. The chills you may feel now? They are nothing compared to the real thing. But I digress." Ermias nods at Opalina. Rovvigen nods in agreement at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Apparently our guest here has insight, which I appreciate." Saleigh nods at Ermias. Speaking quietly to you, Opalina says, "Icemule Trace." You nod understandingly. Ermias softly says, "Linger with them for a final moment, and then we will proceed." A sturdy halfling warrior illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias softly says, "I would also be happy to further demonstrate these illusions for anyone who wishes, at a later time. To ensure no details are overlooked." Ermias smiles. An Icemule mausoleum illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Liras smiles at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Battle, specifically generational struggle, is a common theme in death ritual and imagery." Rovvigen softly says, "The recreation is stunning." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a copper-hued wing-stamped panel is on top. Ermias focuses intently on his wristlet, causing a brief indigo glow. He looks slightly drained. Ermias softly says, "While the aelotoi are new to Elanthia, their funerary rites offer a poignant reflection into the struggles they have endured. And, as they say. New flesh often proves the most illuminating." Ermias softly says, "I apologize in advance to those aelotoi in attendance. This may prove difficult." Maylan bites her lip. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a fierce struggle illusion. Before you is the flickering illusion of a pitched struggle, depicting an elf and a kiramon grasping each other's arms, their faces set in grimaced exertion. Behind them, a shimmering cloud-shaped portal looms. Out of this portal, bronze-winged aelotoi are emerging and scattering away from the struggle. Although a fierce struggle illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. The golem moves out of Zethes's reach before she can touch it. Ermias softly says, "Witness this struggle. LOOK at the beauty of this illusion before you. Then consider the following." Maylan winces. Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a pastel-hued flower circle panel is on top. Maylan quietly says, "Some did not make it through." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a flower-bearing aelotoi illusion. Several copper-winged aelotoi rise before you in this flickering image. Each holds a handful of pastel-hued flowers, with several also wearing ringed floral crowns. They stand evenly-spaced around a small cooking fire. As you observe, one of the aelotoi opens their hands, releasing their held blossoms, which flutter gently down toward the fire. As they do, the others lips begin to move, whispering unheard names. Although a flower-bearing aelotoi illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Ermias nods to a flower-bearing aelotoi illusion. Ermias softly says, "Among the rituals the aelotoi carry forward, we have here the pala'tara, otherwise known as the ceremony of remembrance. Shaped by kiramon oppression against their people, here we witness a modern adaptation of a lingering tradition: where clan elders, having hidden away petals for safety, gather them in a fleeting moment and cast them into a cooking fire." Ermias sighs. Ermias softly says, "Living aelotoi now allow outsiders to participate in this beautiful ceremony. I was honored to join them recently. For a bookworm and tomb rat like myself, who spends his life considering the dead in cold, lone halls, it was a humbling honor to share a moment with the living." Ermias wipes a single, fat tear from one of his eyes. Ermias softly says, "I will not hold it against anyone who is moved to tears by such poignant imagery. Please, take a moment if you need." Maylan nods at Ermias. Ermias nods at Maylan. Maylan says, "All are welcome to witness such during the next festival of Rumor Woods." Ermias softly says, "I would encourage others to take her up on this offer. It was truly an inspiration/." Ermias softly says, "Living as an artifact of history? Now that's archaeology." Ermias dismisses a flower-bearing aelotoi illusion. A flower-bearing aelotoi illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias dismisses a fierce struggle illusion. A fierce struggle illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a cloud-covered hillside glade panel is on top. Ermias softly says, "We now approach the end of my presentation. As such, I wish to leave you with a few parting images to consider as you move forward from today." Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a lone elf glade illusion. You gaze with interest at a lone elf glade illusion. The tiny picturesque details hang in the air and your senses reveal... [Glaise Gnoc, Cemetery] A tall granite obelisk serves as a grave marker atop a low hillock. Framed against the sky, it appears to touch the clouds, a lone sentinel casting its shadow over the grave it guards. You pull your gaze away from the glade illusion, and your senses clear. Ermias softly says, "The study of death is nothing if not a confluence of contradiction. Like the obelisk seen here as you GAZE upon Glaise Gnoc, outside of Ta'Vaalor, we each face it alone. And alone we are remembered above all else." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until a Glaise Cnoc obelisk panel is on top. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a tall granite obelisk illusion. The flickering image of a tall granite obelisk rises before you. It is smooth, void of any markings, as if both immune to both impermanent imprint and the passage of time. A prominent bronze plaque has been placed at the obelisk's base. In the common language, it reads: 'Pause, stranger, when you pass me by, for as you are, so once was I. As I am now, so will you be. Then prepare unto death, and follow me.' Although a tall granite obelisk illusion does well to replicate its source imagery, it wavers occasionally, somewhat ruining the effect. Ermias softly says, "Consider this obelisk, and note its admonition as you LOOK upon it. Pause stranger, it says, when you pass me by. As you are, so once was I. And as I am now, so will you be." Ermias softly says, "The study of death and its trappings and rituals is both universal and utterly singular. In it, we not only learn about what once was, but what might yet be." Ermias softly says, "There are numerous, winding paths of study. Innumerable permutations and caveats, cultural notes and customs specific to smaller towns and clans. Truth is rarely immutable. Neither is death itself." Ermias takes off a pair of scratched ebon wood-framed spectacles with cracked glass lenses. Using a stray bit of cloth, Ermias carefully polishes the lenses of his spectacles. Ermias softly says, "And, in examining all of this, we unlock a world of deep possibilities to occupy a lifetime of beautiful contemplation and utility." Ermias puts on a pair of scratched ebon wood-framed spectacles with cracked glass lenses. Ermias reaches up with one finger and pushes his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose. Master Giedrius just arrived. Ermias softly says, "This concludes my presentation. Thank you for your time, and the opportunity to join you here today. I will be available throughout the weekend to discuss any aspect of this in further detail for those of you who are interested, or to swap stories." Ermias nods. Erienne applauds Ermias. Speaking to Ermias, Fleurs says, "That was lovely. Thank you very much." Ermias dismisses a tall granite obelisk illusion. A tall granite obelisk illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Opalina applauds Ermias. Ermias dismisses a lone elf glade illusion. A lone elf glade illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Meliyara applauds Ermias. Erienne smiles. Liras applauds Ermias. Rovvigen softly says, "This is what I love about these lectures. We learn every culture is the same in one aspect. Trials and Tribulations making us all alike. We may have different aspects on life and living such but we all strive for one common goal. Ermias beautifull done and honored to have witness this." Saleigh says, "What a wonderful presentation, thank you Ermias." Faiyth applauds Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Thank you for your time." Missoni applauds Ermias warmly. Faelynth applauds Ermias. Yipsy applauds Ermias. Saleigh applauds Ermias. Riend applauds Ermias warmly. Silverthorne applauds Ermias. Speaking to Rovvigen, Liras says, "Well said." Raelee takes a moment to observe Ermias. Saleigh says, "Truly exceptional." Lych applauds absentmindedly, with the rest of the crowd. Rovvigen turns to Ermias and cheers! You say, "I very much appreciated the use of illusions to better show those many places." Speaking to Caedenmon, Erienne says, "I meant no disrespect to you. My interests lean more towards archaelogy than necromancy." Liras exclaims, "As did I!" Ermias softly says, "I would entertain simple questions, but, in the interest of fellow presenters, I would encourage you to hold truly complex discussion questions. I will be around all weekend and am eager to take as much time as anyone wishes." Rovvigen smiles at Ermias. Ermias smiles. Meliyara nods appreciatively at Ermias. Ermias just went over and threw himself down on the couch. Faelynth smiles at Ermias. Ermias softly says, "It's why I was inexorably drawn to this hotel and conference." Ermias nods at Erienne. Erienne smiles at Ermias. Speaking softly to you, Missoni says, "Such captivating imagery." Speaking to Ermias, Giedrius says, "I trust you put on quite the spectacle." Ermias rotates a wood-covered dreamfire wristlet set with gear-lined panels around his wrist until an illustrious icy tomb panel is on top. Wisps of indigo smoke rise from around Ermias's wristlet, his stiff gestures encouraging the smoke along as it forms into multiple tendrils of mist. The tendrils of mist swirl together before revealing a sturdy halfling warrior illusion. Ermias nods to a sturdy halfling warrior illusion. Erienne praises Ermias. Ermias softly says, "Per Erienne's request." Erienne says, "Thank you." Fleurs says, "Thank you." Fleurs says, "I also missed it." Erienne says, "I didn't get a very good look at it during your presentation." Speaking raspily to Giedrius, Alek says, "He did, after he cleaned them at the end." Speaking quietly to her blonde wig, Opalina says, "Yes I also liked that illusion." Thalita wanders in. Ermias softly says, "Yes, apologies if anyone missed anything. I would be happy to review each and every image at anyone's convenience." Ermias smiles. Liras smiles at Ermias. Speaking to Ermias, Raelee asks, "We did touch on this some last night, but have you found that relative average lifespan amongst a people can inform how they treat death?" Faiyth says, "It was quite the show." Ermias softly says, "Each represents a real place I've studied. Although it cannot do justice to the field work itself." Thalita says, "Worry not, fair S.H.A.D.O.W.s! The conference may now begin." Ermias nods at Raelee. Raelee glances at Thalita. Zethes wanders in. Opalina turns to face Thalita. Riend raises an eyebrow in Thalita's direction. Faiyth begins chuckling at Thalita! Speaking softly to Thalita, Ermias says, "Right on time. Nice to see you." Ermias chuckles. Thalita nods at Ermias. Speaking darkly to Giedrius, Caedenmon says, "I hope you have more to offer us than how to dig up a grave, and old rocks carved with riddles." Thalita says, "It is always pleasant to see me." Erienne looks thoughtfully at Caedenmon. Speaking softly to Raelee, Ermias says, "Somewhat, yes. Some traditions transcend culture, but others are thoroughly informed by it. Long-lived races easily fit this category." Meliyara gazes in amusement at Thalita. Liras says, "I, for one, love riddles." Zethes flounces dramatically onto the couch, her arm falling across her eyes as she leans back. Speaking to Caedenmon, Giedrius jokes, "It has been a long time since I have dug up a grave." Liras says, "And old rocks." Speaking to Ermias, Raelee says, "Curious, but... logical." Thalita glances at Zethes. Speaking softly to Raelee, Ermias says, "Death and its customs are nothing if not a nesting box of riddles and artifacts. Curious and often confusing." Speaking darkly to Giedrius, Caedenmon asks, "Why dig when you can simple ask?" Speaking to Ermias, Alicea says, "Thank you for sharing the images during your presentation. It very effective." A sturdy halfling warrior illusion breaks into multiple tendrils of mist before losing cohesion and dissipating as mere wisps of indigo smoke. Ermias nods at Alicea. Ermias softly says, "It is my pleasure, and indeed was."