Maktrall, the officiant

Maktrall, the officiant Gender Male Race Human Status Alive Affiliation(s) Devotee of Marlu

Maktrall is a Wedding Officiant that performs wedding ceremonies for those that purchase a wedding package from the Simucoin Store during Rings of Lumnis, Duskruin, Rumor Woods, or Ebon Gate.

Description

You see Maktrall the First Priest of Marlu.
He appears to be a Human.
He is portly and appears to be middle aged.  He has slightly hooded sapphire-colored eyes and pale chalky skin.  He has sleekly cut, glossy grey-brown hair interspersed with fine silvery white streaks.  He has a round, congenial face and a thin-lipped mouth.  He has a subtle sheen of sweat clinging to his upper brow.
He is in good shape.
He is wearing a black six-tentacled star medallion, a deep grey broadcloth cassock stiffly pinned at the throat with a green star diopside, a gold-buckled dark leather satchel, and a pair of polished black leather shoes with sharp bronze tips.

Ceremony

An acolyte in a long, grey robe strides to the front, then kneels and draws a large circle with a thick piece of white chalk.  He then stands, folding his arms across his chest and tucking his hands into the belled sleeves of his robe, before taking several steps backward.  Two more acolytes hurry in and place a large arch inside the circle before Maktrall himself strides forth.

Maktrall makes of every step a ceremony, pacing with conscious dignity past you to stand before the ominous gate-like arch positioned in the middle of the chalk-marked circle.  He waits until the two of you arrange yourselves in front of him before beginning.

After clearing his throat ostentatiously and raising his hands for silence, Maktrall speaks in a voice every bit as deep and ponderous as his form.  "Welcome, all who would witness the union of GROOM and BRIDE by their declaration, under the law, and through my authority in performing this ceremony."

"All in this world is transitory and illusory as, piece by piece, it will eventually fall before the baleful might of Marlu.  The only question is what you will have done with your life up until that moment."  The portly cleric's weighty tones impress the importance of his point upon each word.

Light plays off of Maktrall's pendant as he turns to you, his jowls flushed, and asks, "Do you avow to remain by BRIDE's side, until the end, when the Demon Lord will come for you both?"

Maktrall's's eyes flash as he turns to BRIDE, his breathing labored, and asks, "Do you avow to remain by GROOM's side, until the end, when the Demon Lord will come for you both?"

Success

Maktrall nods, a malevolent light illuminating his rounded face from below, glinting off the feverish sweat on his brow, and his voice assuming a less controlled aspect.  "Take the power you would have by any means necessary.  Love whom you would with all the passion you have in you, without restraint.  Let no regret weigh down your soul when the Demon Lord at last devours it!  Marlu, see this couple's determination and bless their future together!"

Maktrall is on the cusp of shouting his exhortations, the man looking practically unhinged.  An ominous glow pulses through the chalked circle, bathing the couple and Maktrall in a corona of malevolence.  The arch behind him no longer opens on the view of the other side of the hall.  Instead, a weird and wicked landscape can be glimpsed through it, indescribable, and utterly alien.

"May there be no shadow of regret in your hearts when the end comes.  To that purpose, I declare GROOM and BRIDE married with such blessings as Marlu might bestow upon them!"

At the end of Maktrall's words, there is the sound of a door slamming shut, and the arch behind him is normal once more.  Even having just seen it, the memory of that odd scene is hard to hold in the mind.

A subtle wind slinks across the floor, dispersing the fading chalk circle that surrounded you and BRIDE.  Maktrall catches his breath and rebuilds his dignified demeanor, tucking away that brief glimpse of madness.  He murmurs a last, quick blessing over the two of you.  "May the Demon Lord save you for last.  He then turns abruptly and strides out, leaving the acolytes to remove the arch and hurry after him.

Rejection

Maktrall nods, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at the sweat on his face before quickly stowing it in his satchel.  "Maybe you could do with a little less distraction... re-dedicate yourselves to something or someone more worthy.  It doesn't do to waste the time the Demon Lord has given you."