Did the World Move for You?

''Located in the north-western quarter of Crown's Refuge, the area known as Snowfall Basin is quite an impressive sight indeed. Delicately balancing nature with culture, Snowfall Basin maintains the Syladris population of the freehold by providing them with a large area that remains suited to needs that have only recently been discovered.''

''Set around the basin itself - a bowl-shaped cold water depression carved into the surface of the bluff that Crown's Refuge sits atop - it is unusual by just how much it differs from the Human residences just towards the east. Open-air pavilions and gazebos provide much of the structures that the Syladris call home, while leather tents scattered between these more permanent structures offer a more suitable means of privacy than the depths of the water should such things be required.''

''A number of deciduous and evergreen species of tree have been planted amidst the area, turning the "Syaldris Quarter" into one small forest around the large stretch of water. Some pavilions stand taller than others, indicative of status within the newly forged cultural identity that the Syladris are attempting to shape, though all that can be seen feature flowing couches and benches that serve to adequately support and provide comfort for such an unusual half-breed race when they're not otherwise coiled around an overhanging branch or lost beneath ripples of icy water.''

''A blanket of fallen leaves and short, lush grasses surround the basin and the various structures and statues that inhabit the area, all contained within a short marble wall that defines the perimeter of this large region of natural beauty and architecture. Paved trails leading towards the east and south lead back to their respective pathways, while the shadow of Tempest Spire looms ever-present towards the southeast.''

There is a gathering in Snowfall Basin today, down by the remains of the shrine. Tables have been brought out, and kegs full of wild star ale are full nearly to bursting in the shade of some oak trees. A few dozen syladris and humans are all about these tables, dressed in what /they/ consider their very best, though for some of them, this means their very best armor, with their very best dirk shoved through their belts. The groom himself, surrounded by friends, is actually dressed rather nicely in velvets tonight, imported from Fastheld... but he does have his bow strung to his back and a scimitar at his waist.

Sandrim, as well, has carried a sword to the party as he sits on a bench, watching the groom putter about. He holds a mug of wild star in his hand. "Erron looks like he might have cold feet," the mage says slyly to the syladris next to him.

Taran takes some time to catch his breath, watching the people gather, before levering himself to his feet again to walk toward the shrine.

A slim violet figure enters the basin, liltrum over her shoulder for once instead of a bow. Meian's smiling faintly, hands keeping her skirts high from the moist ground as she approaches the wedding party.

Adrianna makes her way along toward the basin, baby in arms as she walks along. The little one is brighteyed and looking at /everything/ as they move along. Her progress is slow as she stops to point things out to the curious babe, but she does head in the general direction of the wedding party.

The groom adjusts his coat a bit nervously as he speaks to his friends. One of them, a one-eyed man, gives Erron a slap on the back. "Come now, lad. Just because it's some fancy wedding doesn't make it any different. You two already have three daughters."

Sandrim stands up, waving over to Taran as the man enters... then thinks better of it, saying aloud, "Come, now, here's a good place to sit over here if you want."

Taran laughs a bit as he comes over to sit by Sandrim, sinking down relieved to the ground, catching his breath. "I will sleep very, very well tonight," he murmurs.

Glowing with his usual holy radiance, Griedan walks into snowfall basin where he greets a few Syladris slithering past. His destination appears to be the song willow. Atleast it was his destination until he spots the gathering and alters his approach to bring him closer, watching curiously.

Meian nods pleasantly to the familiar faces of Sandrim and Taran as she nears, unlimbering her liltrum and moving to an inconspicuous but somewhat central location. The girl soon loses herself in tuning, fingers quick and sure on the instrument's pegs.

Zia's just a couple of steps behind the bard, having stopped to examine something on the way. Now she quickens her pace to catch up, lifting a hand to wave a re-greeting to Sandrim on the way. She merely shrugs at Taran, reply to something said earlier, probably.

Adrianna approaches closer to the wedding party, her eyes finally falling on the party, and she quiets in her game of naming things for the little one in her arms. She takes a look around and finding familiar faces there she hesitates for just a moment, then heads over toward Griedan, a smile on her lips, "Good evening," she offers, her free hand seeking for one of his, and little Taran giggles brightly at seeing his father.

The guests are gathering now, and some of the stragglers are a /little/ less finely dressed, perhaps choosing only their second best leathers to come in. A group of Wildlander women looking rather uncomfortable in their velvet dresses are now gathering on the outside of the Burned Shrine, the most well-dressed of whom is, presumably, Erron's bride, Aelia. They all carry daggers as well.

"Huh, lots more people than I expected," Sandrim says with a bit of a grin, waving to Zia and Meian in turn. "But, well, if it's an excuse to get together..."

Griedan too smiles at Adrianna and takes her hand in his, engulfing it entirely and giving a tender squeeze. His other hand brushes a stray lock from Little Taran's brow as he smiles at the small boy before beginning to make funny faces at him.

Taran smiles, and tugs his Lute from across his back. "I hope the ceremony takes a while," he murmurs. "I would prefer to be rested when it is time for the music."

Little Taran giggles gleefully at the faces, and reaches for the big glowy man, practically pulling himself from Adri's arms to get to him. Adri herself leans in to give her husband a kiss on his cheek, raising up on tiptoe to do so, "Shall we join the others?" she asks indicating the quartet of friends and family nearby. "I don't think Meian has met our newest addition yet."

Another obvious form walks from the south, though it is more for his height and the shining argent of his hair. The robed man lowers his cowl as he nears, luminous blue eyes glancing over at the gathering with a smile as he makes his way over to the center.

Speaking of music... it seems at least a little was requested at the beginning. As the guests gather before the ceremony begins, Meian launches into a pleasantly cheerful tune that provides a low-key backdrop to the conversations swirling around her. Attention bent to the strings, she doesn't yet recognize the other familiar faces gathered.

Zia drops to a seat beside Sandrim and Taran, folding her legs beneath her and shifting her pack to her lap. "Fastheldian priest. The formalities usually do." She grins, letting her gaze wander out over the crowd, certainly more than half an ear fixed on Meian's music.

Sandrim cheerfully taps out the tune on his knee... a little off beat. "There's plenty of ale to get through it at least," he says, before getting distracted and looking over to Ren. "Huh, I ran into that one up in Hawk's Aerie... Don't think I got his name, though."

Griedan returns Adrianna's cheeck-peck with one of his own and then lifts their son from her arms. Turning him around, he seats the boy on his shoulders, legs straddling his father's neck. The big man's light brown curly hair makes a good handhold for little fingers.

"Aye love, le's go see 'ow e'ereh'un is doin'. Yeh firs' though, 'ow are yeh t'day?"

The bride and groom’s parties are gearing up, it seems... and there are three girls in the bride's, Aelia and Erron's three daughters, the youngest of whom is nearing four now. "Um... Remember how we're supposed to do this, girls," the bride-to-be says to her daughters. "Here comes the priest."

Taran blinks as music begins, listening. "Oh. It seems they've gone quite Fastheldian for this one," he says, almost sadly, and draws the folds of his cloak over the shining lute.

"Well enough," Adri replies to her husband as she's relieved of their child. "We had a fit last night, but he did finally go to sleep. He doesn't like the sleeping thing, but he never fights it for too long, and he did sleep through the night," she adds, with a fond look up at the both of them, her footsteps taking her nearer to the others as she speaks.

Zia nods, eyes lingering on bride and groom a moment. "Aye. Wonder if one or the other of them has Fastheldian family..." she muses.

Meian lets the tune meander, playing with sprightly ease and talent. It's not perhaps a captivating performance, but that isn't its point- merely to provide a pleasant background for the gathering folk until the ceremony's called to order.

Griedan walks over with Adrianna, just catching wind of Ziavri's comment. "All o' us 'ave Fas'eldian fam'leh, Mis'ress. E'ereh'un what's not a Syladris came from a Fas'eldian line." he murmurs to her while bouncing up and down a bit for Little Taran's delight.

With the hand of hers he holds, Griedan makes to help his wife down into her seat and takes the one next to her. "Soon 'nough 'twill b' th' en' o' that 'un. Least 'till w' 'ave 'nother."

The evening is getting even busier as more and more arrive in Snowfall Basin, where tables and ale and food are set up by the ruins of the shrine. A group of wildlander men in fine dress and weapons are already by a makeshift altar, and a group of women in fine velvet dresses are approaching - the bride and groom's parties. Ren, the priest, is approaching as well and glowing.

Sandrim, however, is with Taran, Zia, Adrianna and Griedan. "Mm, they're both from the Wildlands though," he says. "Hello Griedan, hey Adrianna."

As he nears, Ren gives a wave in greeting toward the bride. "Light's Tidings, Mistresses! I am Brother Rallus Driscol - Brother Ren will suffice - if you'd be so kind as to direct me to where you'd like this to take place, I've preparations of my own," cheerily greets the robed man, bowing his head in greeting as he adjusts the pack on his back.

Muri emerges from Aeseryi's tent and fusses with her dress, before taking a breath and stepping toward the gathered guests. She scans the crowd and seeing familiar faces, makes her way toward Zia and the others. A light smile plays on her face.

Adrianna nods with a smile, "I think we can wait at least till this ones old enough to walk," she says with a giggle, and taking her seat near the others she offers a smile, "Evening," she says softly to all of them. Little Taran giggles at the bouncing, his little fingers holding tightly to Griedan's hair.

Zia grins at Griedan. "Aye. I mean the living, breathing, in-Fastheld variety." Spying Muri coming her way through the crowd, she lifts a hand to wave.

Taran nods, using his cloak and its hood to make himself as unobtrusive as a six-foot-five scarecrow bearing seraphite can be, which isn't much. "But it seems to mean something to them, to do things this way. I should stay at watching, and not interfere. The aura of weddings is quite pleasant."

Teller stands with a group of three Wildlanders to one side, two of them looking amused... one decidedly less so. Teller's voice carries cleanly over the space, his arms windmilling as the story picks up pace. As others arrive, he glances to take stock of who is where, but never slows the pace of the tale.

"Brother Ren," the groom, Erron, says as he steps toward the glowing man with a smile. "We were going to hold it here... before the old shrine, you know. It's lost, but it seems like the holiest place here, I think." He reaches back to pluck at his bowstring. His groom party, mostly dressed nicely but some still in leather, all carrying weapons, are gathered by a makeshift altar. The bridal party is approaching slowly, looking uncomfortable in their dresses and with three little girls among them.

"It is, isn't it?" Sandrim asks Taran with a smile, before he looks to Griedan. "Mm. That hurting your hair any there?"

Meian seems content to quietly be a part of the pre-wedding ambience, the girl doing what she's best at- weaving beautiful music as unobtrusively as if it comes from thin air.

"Wait 'till 'e is walkin?" Griedan asks Adri with a wicked grin. "Then w' bes' get star'ed now, aye? 'E will cer'ainleh b' walkin' beh th' time a new 'un is readeh t' join th' world." His brown eyes flicker amusement at the suggestion. Noting that things are about to get underway though, he quiets down and draws little Taran from his shoulders, instead seating the boy in his lap.

Muri waves in answer to Zia and sidles up to the group, glancing around for an empty place to sit. "G'eve, fren's," she murmurs. "Tis good t'seen ye all. Haint Missus Meian playin' goodly?" She looks at Taran the Elder carefully. "Ye looks betta, Messer," she says to him. "Don' o'er tax yerself doh, aye?" She nods to everyone she knows and smiles.

Zia quirks a brow curiously at Taran. "You changed your mind about playing?" She sounds vaguely surprised, but grins at Muri anyway. "Aye. She plays beautifully. How've you been?"

Teller now has two of the Wildlanders wheezing and holding in their laughter. To the third he holds out his hands in pacification, bowing and backing away rather quickly. Disengaged, he walks along behind the seated guests, stopping here and there to say a word of greeting. He lays and long-fingered hand gently on Muri's shoulder. "Evening Mistress Muri. Very nice to see you, and all these others, among more peaceful surroundings."

"Quite a fine location it is. Relax and take your time," replies Ren with a final bow to the groom, turning to stride toward the altar and take his place behind it. Shrugging the pack off of his shoulder, he opens the main flap to rummage between the contents for a short while. He withdraws a moderately sized leather-bound tome, well-abused as he stands upright to open it and flip between the pages casually.

Mysra slithers in from the east, the golden-hued female skirting around the edges of the area to seek a spot to settle at. "Mysssra hasss never ssseen a wedding," she notes brightly to another Syladris - not quietly. She then spots familiar human faces and tries to worm her way through to where they're seated. "Hello, friendsss of Mysssra!" she greets, once she has moved a chair out of her way and settles into the spot it once occupied, "Thisss isss where we watch the humansss get married, yesss?"

"Thank you, Brother," Erron says to the priest with a small grin and scratch of his cheek, looking at the priest as both parties come to the altar, waiting.

"Good to see you Muri," Sandrim says to the so-named woman. "And... you as well, but your name eludes me," he adds on to Teller, before nodding. "She does play well, though. Maybe you /could/ join in and duet with her later though, Taran."

Adrianna scoots in close to her brother, giving him a good look over, "I'm glad to see you doing better," she says softly, her concern still showing. Her eyes go to Meian, but not wanting to disturb the playing or the flow of the beautiful music, she simply offers her a smile.

Little Taran settles into his father's lap and babbles brightly, reaching a grasping hand out toward the others around him, as if trying to grab hold of all the bright colors around him.

Taran smiles a bit at Zia. "They've hired a musician," he says quietly. "It would be unprofessional to invite myself to the ensemble."

Muri turns toward the touch at her shoulder and blinks in surprise. "Messer Teller!" she exclaims, standing wtih a smile. "Well, tis good t'seen ye." She nods to Sandrim. "Dis Messer Teller," she says. "Don' knowd if'n ye've met, aye?" She settles into her seat again and waves to another chair nearby. She glances around gaining her bearings, looking a little lost.

"Le's jus' 'ope what that no 'un tries t' 'urt a raven else w' will 'ave problems." Griedan mutters quietly to himself. Watching Mysra approach, he waves the Syladris over.

"You didn't think so a minute ago," Zia points out quietly, and smiles a hello to Adrianna. There's something almost shy to it. She glances up at the sound of Muri's greeting to Teller, blinking surprise. "Ai. Evening," she greets the man.

Sandrim grins and extends a hand to Teller. "Pleasure to meet you," he says. "How are you? Sandrim Oakleaf, farmer around here. Tend to all the orchards."

Teller's smile follows Muri's greeting. "Aye Mistress, and you as well." Turning to those seated nearby, Teller offers and a gentle, but polite bow. "Forgive the intrusion Gentles. I've been on the road since the dust-up at Nightsedge Chapel." Offering a smile, "I am Teller, that's who I am /and/ what I do. Pleased to meet you all. Mistress Muri I know, and undoubtedly owe my life to."

Taran shakes his head. "A minute or so ago, I did not know arrangements had been made," he says to Zia. Then to Adrianna, "This is my first day walking so far. By the effort I feel as if I had tried to run all the way to the north-gate."

Meian returns Adrianna's smile when she next looks up, and calls mildly over to Taran, "I doubt your lute would go a-at all amiss for the performances afterward, aye?" Her gaze drops, but only to watch her nimbly picking fingers once more.

Big glowing man with familiar child? Griedan and Little Taran gain the goldscale's full attention, and she grins brightly. "Oohhh, hello," she says softly to the child, slinking the end of her tail around to offer the very tip of the gold-colored scales for him to play with, "Mysssra hasss not seen Sssmall Taran in a long while. He isss ssstill very cute."

Adrianna nods, "You need to get your energy back," she says to Taran. "I'll bring you some food that should help," she adds, "Soups and stuff." She scoots back near Griedan, a curious questioning look given to him.

Sandrim tilts his head at Teller. "Ahh, I think... I might remember you, then. Got caught up in the fighting? It was more than a bit of a mess there." And then... he finally notices Mysra, giving the goldscale a wave. "Hello!"

Zia shrugs. "Somehow, I really doubt they're going to complain if you play for them. They'd probably be honored."

Brother Ren seems engrossed in his studies until he inadvertantly glances up to notice the two looking at him expectantly, to which he blinks and chuckles nervously. "Oh, so soon? My apologies," quickly mutters Ren, looking back down to the tome and following a key paragraph with a tip of his finger before giving a few slow nods and settling it down on the altar. He glances about momentarily, keeping his smile, opening his mouth but closing it shut as he seems to forget something. "Ah, your names! My apologies once more," he whispers in request, waiting for his answers before moving back before looking again to address the crowd that has arrived.

Clapping his hands together and raising them, Brother Ren lowers his hands slowly as he addresses the crowd, "Light's Greetings, Masters and Mistresses. Please, if you would, take rest and lower your voices so that we may begin."

Muri shakes her head and looks quite sober. "Ah'm glad t'seen ye well, Messer Taran," she says quietly. Seeing Mysra, though, she perks up and smiles at the syladris as Mysra plays with Little Taran. "G'eve Missus Mysra."

Griedan chuckles at Mysra and watches as the tail taunts the young boy in his lap. He's got a good grip. "Greetin's Mysra. 'S good t' see yeh 'gain. Yeh are lookin' loveleh t'day, aye." Glancing back at Adri, he winks at her. "No' s' loveleh as meh wife, min' yeh, but vereh nice. Did yeh get fresh scales recen'leh?"

Leaning in, the groom whispers to Ren, "I'm Erron Whitelarch. The girl's name is Aelia." He straightens up then, and the wedding party all starts to get into position.

Sandrim goes quiet himself now, looking over to the actual ceremony attentively.

Taran nods to Muri, with a bit of a smile, but raises a finger to his lips as he settles himself into silence.

At the clap, Meian winds her song to an end and settles the liltrum in her lap. Slim arms encircle it, pale face peeking out beside the instrument's neck. Smiling ever so slightly, the mage-bard listens to the priest.

Zia cocks her head a little to the side as Ren's clap reaches her, stilling herself in preparation to hear the ceremony out.

Teller smiles at Muri as he takes a step back, still standing as to better see the ceremony.

Muri straightens, peeking over heads to see the proceedings and remaining for a time, silent.

The golden-hued Syladris preens a bit, but the call to be silent isn't lost on her. Mysra settles a bit more into her coils and waves to those who have greeted her with a bright grin, before turning her attention to the bride in groom with fascinated curiosity. The tailtip stays with the child, but she seems to have stopped paying much attention to it.

Adrianna too turns her attention to the wedding party, falling silent for now.

Griedan falls silent and watches from his seat. An arm slips around Adrianna's shoulders, drawing her against him if she wants, making it easy to rest her head upon his shoulder should she be inclined. His legs, meanwhile, bounce the child-Taran lightly.

As things grow silent, Ren holds his smile as he turns his attention forward. Taking a moment to clear his throat, he raises his voice so it may reach the greater vicinity to begin the ceremony, "On this evening, we are gathered before friend and kin, together before the Light, to witness and celebrate the blessed union of this man, Erron, and this woman, Aelia. To honor their decision to build a family together, and to travel beside one another until their final days."

Taking a breather, Ren then looks beyond the two before him to address the crowd. "If it is said that anyone should disagree with this union, or that it should not be formed, let them speak their objection before the Light or remain silent."

Adrianna does let herself be drawn in close and she rests her head against Griedan's shoulder, her eyes watching little Taran as he tries to reach for the Syladris's tail.

Muri glances around, curious and blinking, a soft smile on her face.

Up on the altar, Aelia half-draws her dagger, set nicely on her waist and scabbard matched with her dress, and gives anyone and everyone around a smile and a, 'go ahead and try me' glare at the same time, impressively.

Back among the guests, however, Sandrim appears to be distracted, not really watching the ceremony. "He's coming up the stairs," he whispers very softly. "Run. Hide."

Taran turns to Sandrim, the hood of his cloak not hiding the worried frown. A hand reaches out to touch.

Meian chuckles quietly to herself at Aelia's knife-drawing. She sits too far away to notice Sandrim's distraction, caught up instead of smiling appreciation of the ceremony.

Zia doesn't, and her amused grin fades a little as she glances aside, brow rising, muscles tensing faintly.

Griedan maybe doesn't hear what Sandrim says, but he understands what the man has said something. He shoots a look at him briefly and then back up at the ceremony taking place.

Teller eye's and ears take in the ceremony, the bride-to-be's antics pulling an amused grin from him.

Mysra tilts her head, quirking an eyebrow. "Why did ssshe pull out her knife?" she asks of those around her softly, clearly confused.

There is a gathering here, several wildlanders before the burned shrine... a wedding party, it would seem, and Ren is the priest performing it. The bride has a dagger half-drawn, giving the guests an, 'I dare you' look mixed with a sweet smile. Further away, at the tables, the guests have all gathered, most watching the ceremony raptly.

Brother Ren waves his hands in protest, chuckling nervously. "Come! Now, I'm sure /that/ isn't necessary," asks the somewhat overwhelmed monk, breathing a deep sigh afterward before he looks toward those before him. "Well then, for the sake of anyone bold enough to make the attempt I'll say that there are no objections. Now, then," pauses Ren, making his focus on the armed bride. "Do you, Aelia, accept this man, Erron, as your husband, to share your life with him openly, standing with him, whether it be in low spirits or high, in joy and in sorrow, in hardship or in ease, until the end of your days?"

Far to the north, some of the mountains seem to be shaking, moving up and down, back and forth.

Sandrim breaks out of his trance at the touch, looking over to Taran. "Huh? Oh, sorry. Just something odd."

Taran watches Sandrim curiously, then points northward. "Like that?" he asks. "But you said stairs..."

The goldscale blinks, and then rubs her eyes. And then blinks again, being distracted from the wedding. "Wha...?" Mysra starts, rubbing at her eyes once more, "What isss wrong with Mysssra'sss eyesss?" She gazes northward with a light frown, eyebrows creased together.

"Hey Sandrim?" Zia holds her voice low to avoid disturbing the couple's wedding, though her eyes are also fixed on the north. "That the sort of thing you were talking about the other day?"

Something catches Griedan's peripheral vision, and he turns his head towards it, frowning at the moving mountains. He hands little Taran off to Adrianna and rubs his eyes. To no avail. The great peaks are still somehow mobile. "Yeh too?" he whispers to Mysra.

Meian's attention is pulled away from the wedding by the muttering and gestures of the crowd. She frowns slightly, glancing among them all. "What's going on?" the girl whispers toward Taran's group, the closest individuals she knows.

Muri turns toward the others as they murmur to each other. She blinks, but seeing nothing untoward, returns her gaze to the wedding.

Keeping herself far from the ceremony proper, Tshepsi had positioned herself comfortably in a tree to watch, and her expression /had/ been shining appropriately with curiosity at this human affair. Now, however, the Syladri's attentions had shifted, as one who is easily distracted tends frequently to do. Likewise, the emotions shift visibly over the ivory face, bringing a broader smile to bear fangs at the northern horizon. "Wakesss, sssomeone doesss," She hisses softly, folding her hands complacently in what's currently acting as her lap - a stretch of looped coil. "Perhapsss they want to wisssh happy on the ceremony, too. Or..." Turning her head in thought, she absently ponders the persons below. "The ssstone putsss on a dance, too. To the treesss musssic."

"I /do/," Aelia says forcefully to Ren, reaching out for her groom's hand.

"Mommy, the mountain is dancing!" says the youngest of the girls in the bride's party with delight.

And the earth rumbles as the earthquake hits Crown's Refuge, drowning both of them out and making the plateau shake.

Teller's soft smile breaks as the ground shifts beneath him. Out of habit he plants he feet wide, only then looking about to see how those around him fare.

"It...," the Syladris starts as Griedan speaks, "It isss not jussst Mys-?" Mysra cuts herself off, squeaking in alarm as the ground begins to move. Being propped on coils as she is makes it easy for the Syladris to keep her balance, swaying gently as the earth shifts beneath her.

As the ground begins to shake underneath his feet, Griedan arches an eyebrow but doesn't seem to panick at all. He's more curious than anything. "Well, that's an unusual and slightly unnerving sensation." he says to no one in particular.

Muri blinks as she finds herself swaying in her seat. She reaches out and grabs Zia by the arm to steady herself. "Light!" she gasps. "Wot's 'appenin'?"

Just as he's about to continue, Brother Ren grips the sides of the makeshift altar to brace himself as the quake comes. Though he keeps his eyes closed, he manages to attempt to address the crowd as loudly as his voice can muster, "Remain calm! It'll settle soon, I'm certain!" As he waits for things to settle, he still retains the right to mutter a few silent prayers as he takes his stance.

Taran is, fortunately for him, already resting in a seated position on the ground - but as said ground shakes, he looks more than a bit alarmed. "What Shadow-magery is this, that makes the *world* shake?"

Meian clings to her liltrum with a squeal of dismay, her slim form light enough to be tossed from a sitting position to one entirely prone on the ground. "What in the Light's name!" she cries, remaining down while the shakes continue.

Zia's hand clamps around Muri's wrist, possibly steadying both of them. Even so, she gives an uncomfortable bounce and lets go an "Oof! Damnit." What she says next has something to do with the world going insane.

/That's/ not supposed to vibrate. Tshepsi's leathery brow quirks upwards in surprise and a bit of momentary delight. "My tree is dancing!" She exclaims with utter amusement, flexing her coils just that much more tightly to hold on. As if in response, the tremor intensifies, rattling the tree at its aged roots and challenging the serpentine grip clinging in its branches. Delight turns to confusion and then quickly into worry. Not liking the sudden assault of rough bark against her polished scales, Tshepsi loosens her length, winding about in attempts to find a better comfort zone. "Ssstop," She tells the tree through gritting teeth and whacks the nearest limb with her tail's tip. "The party hasssn't begun yet!" That little bit of give was all the quake needed to shake the Syladris free. Faulted by her own movement, Tshepsi comes out of the tree via drop and plop.

Not quite fully back yet, Sandrim falls back onto the ground. "Erk," he says, rolling over and keeping low. Thankfully, nothing is really around to fall on top of him.

After a little while, around half a minute, the shaking starts to subside, leaving Crown's Refuge sitting still. But, in the distance to the north, one mountain is still shifting. A large chunk of its north face cracks, and starts falling down the side into Drakesreach Sierra.

It is nearly a full minute later when the boom of /that/ seismic event sounds across Drakesreach Bluff.

Teller's eyes shift rapidly from place to place, face to face. Following an observers out-thrust arm, he watches with an open mouth as the mountain slides into pieces.

When Tshepsi falls from the tree, Griedan gets to his feet but the quaking ground unsettles him enough that he has to take a knee and try to keep his last meal down. Once it's stopped though, he briefly checks on his wife and child before he runs on unsteady feet to where the Archmage has fallen.

Squatting down, he looks at the Syladris. "Tshepsi, are yeh alrigh'?" he asks, voice strained with a tinge of worry.

Thus he misses seeing the mountain break away... and the resulting sound that sweeps over them catches him by surprise. "What in all th' bloodeh Shaduh was that?" he shouts, covering his ears.

"The mountainsss are falling!" Mysra exclaims with a mix of shock and awe. "The mountainsss are falling! Why isss the world breaking?" The goldscale curls around herself into a tight ball of snake-tail, scales sliding over each other as Mysra tries to turn from half-snake to half-armadillo.

"By the Light," observes Ren is fascinated awe as he stares toward the north, covering his ears once things start to get...loud. He also keep an eye upward incase anymore strange...things decide to fall out of the tree that he might want to keep an eye on. None-the-less, he mans his post, waiting for the disturbance to settle.

Taran is watching in blank fascination. "So even mountains break," he murmurs. "That is a trip worth the trouble."

Muri, pale with fear and uncertainty, looks around, still clinging to Zia. As the shuddered boom of the mountain's collapse reaches her ears, she ducks her head. "Wot all?" she whispers.

"What did Tssshepsi sssay to upssset the tree?" The Syladris inquires, hand gripping a soiled horn in pain. Bits of the skewered earth tumbles off and into her hair. Flopping and writhing to regain an upright stance, Tshepsi untangles her fallen self. Her eyes fire a venemous glare in the tree's direction and she opens her mouth to scold it quite vehemently but the emerging words are replaced by the brief, low rumble that shudders through the air. Anger is swift to fade on this naive visage and with wide eyes, the Archmage twists to stare towards the north blankly. "...Sssomeone /wasss/ sssleeping," She whispers softly, looking to the glowing man again for clarification, "And now isss not?"

Zia actually laughs, though one hand is still planted solidly on the ground and the fingers of the other curl around Muri's wrist. "A wedding the world itself plays drums for," she murmurs. Pale eyes widen as Meian observes the tumbling rocks from her position on the ground. "Almighty Light," she whispers lowly. "Is it all going to come crashing down?" Though soft, her voice is clear and true, too distracted to stutter.

Sandrim grimaces, covering his ears as he sits up. "Too loud," he says. "Way, way too loud."

After the sound passes... all is quiet. The mountain, or what's left of it, appears to be stable.

Griedan shakes his head at Tshepsi and works his jaw to try popping his ears. "I dunna know, Tshepsi. Th' say what that th' great drakes live un'er mountains an' 's why they're s' tall. Ifn 's so, an' 'un o' them 'as 'woken, I'm n' s' sure what that I wanna see."

In a moment of either bravery or just the recent events overwhelming him, he does try to brush the last of the dirt from the Syladris's horn and a particularly big clump from her hair. "Yeh are un'armed though, aye?" he asks.

As the rumble of the blast passes, Teller smiles, small and tentative at first, the broad and toothy. Quietly as to himself, he can be heard to say, "I'm alive yet...so /that's/ something."

After a few moments of hesitation, Mysra slowly starts to uncoil, looking around. "It hasss ssstopped?" she asks softly, amber eyes wide in a mix of emotions covering the entirety of the 'woah' portion of the spectrum. "The mountain isss broken," she remarks, "How doesss one fixss a mountain?"

Taran reaches out to tug Sandrim over, frowning. "Sit," he says quietly. "This is ...not the best omen for a wedding."

Ren breathes a sigh of relief as things quiet down, carrying a smile as he turns to talk to those gathered. "Well, then! If everyone is alright, we should continue. It will take far more than that, I think, to get Master Erron out of this one. If you'd all resume your places, we can continue."

The shaking and booming over, Muri tentatively releases Zia and settles her hands into her lap. Her eyes dart from crumbled mountain to altar and back. Worry and apprehension flit across on her face.

Sandrim sits up slowly. "Mm... Not a good omen at all. But... we can sit through the rest of it." He gives Taran a grin. "We'll talk later."

The wedding party is already starting to get to its feet again, standing before the altar. "Think I'm ready," Erron says, obviously still a little shaken.

Dropping her other hand to the ground as well, Zia braces herself, in case it should happen again. Nevertheless, she seems content enough to let the wedding proceed.

"If it isss a child of the sssky, then Tssshepsi wantsss to sssee!" Ducking her head aside like a child resisting parental grooming, Tshepsi peeks under his arm to continue to stare in the phenomenon's direction. "Maybe that'sss where Sssara took the Ingresss to hide it. Maybe Ssshe isss moving it..." Quieting only marginally as the monk speaks up, she slithers a little bit around towards the others and hones in on Mysra. "Mysssra," She hisses, "Do you remember the sssound?"

Teller turns his attention to those around him and frowns seeing the tension in Muri's face. With a quick glance to the restarted proceedings, he moves to her quietly and asks of her health with a look.

Meian slowly sits up as well, hugging her liltrum tightly like a stand-in for a person... or a teddy bear. In wide-eyed silence, she observes the wedding.

Brushing his hands together to remove the dirt, Griedan mildly watches Tshepsi slither away and actually follows, though this is perhaps because he was seated next to Mysra in the first place. Sitting again, he does his best to help with calming his son down, who has begun shrieking.

"Wha' soun' d' yeh mean, Tshepsi?" Griedan asks the Archmage. He peers past her at the wrecked mountain. "IF yeh wan' t' go look... I could come with ifn yeh would like."

"Sssound?" Mysra asks of the Archmage, having not heard any of the conversation before that question, "Mysssra remembersss many sssoundsss... Which one do you mean?" Her attention span is thinning, torn between the ceremony she has never seen, the broken mountain, and now Tshepsi asking her strange questions. Amber eyes dart between them, as though trying to take it all in at once.

Muri manages a wan smile to Teller and nods. She turns her attention to Zia. "Are ye all rights Missus Zia?" she whispers. "Dat twas right strange. De mountain...did ya seen it falls?"

"We all saw it fall," Sandrim says to Muri as he stands. "Mm. Maybe... we should let them finish their vows right quick." He doesn't look too horribly surprised as he gazes at the distant mountain.

"Aye, I saw it," Zia says softly, looking out at it. "Sandrim? There's a piece missing now." Blatantly obvious as it sounds, there's some point behind it.

"The /big/ one," Tshepsi reiterates more quietly, following where Mysra looks towards the ceremony. "It ssshook the ground and the treesss...it ssstopped Tssshepsi from sssleeping." To Griedan, she shakes her head and lifts a finger to her lips. "Not yet!"

Taran pokes Sandrim rather pointedly, frowning.

Griedan nods and leaves it at that as he attempts to turn his attention back towards the ceremony, getting little Taran to settle down by giving the child his finger to play with.

"You were sssleeping in the tree?" Mysra asks of Tshepsi, attention finding more purchase with the Archmage now, "Why were you sssleeping in a tree? That isss a very bad idea - Mysssra tried sssleeping in a tree oncsse and ssshe fell out and hurt her back and it wasss not fun."

"I saw the mountain broken," Sandrim says to Taran with a frown. "No need to poke so much." He turns to look over to Zia and smiles a small bit. "Piece is missing, yes. Or... it's fallen, at least."

Muri purses her lips and shifts uncomfortably at Sandrim's words, then tries to regain her focus on the wedding.

Zia lifts an eyebrow and tilts her head to Muri, tearing her gaze away from the mountain now. "You all right?"

Taran withdraws his hand, back into the folds of cloak. The hood droops...it would seem exertion has won the war against excitement.

Griedan looks askance at the two Syladris next to him and can't conceal a smile. "Aye, sleppin' in a tree will of' en' jus' like that." he agrees with Mysra. "Th' are kind o' mean like that aye. 'S much be'er t' jus' sleep un'er 'em in th' shade."

Teller looks from Muri to Zia, "Have some cheer Mistresses, we are alive. And fortune has allowed us to witness an event of power unimaginable!" Laughing heartily he adds, "And... yet and, I will eat well for months off this story!" Then he ponders... "Less it portends worse things to come, of course."

"No...the one in the beginning...never mind. Maybe you did not hear it," Tshepsi murmurs. Looking into her hands, she begins to fidget with her fingernails. Every now and again, she casts a curious glance to the baby version of her shiny friend.

Sandrim squats down to make sure Taran is comfortable, before shrugging. "Mm. Something might happen, I guess," he says. "Though, I think the mountain falling apart is really something enough. I think... I'm going to get to bed, and get this one to a bed as well. Good night."

Back to Season 7 (2008)