As Aramel slowly twirls the orchid between her fingers, the colours slide across
the petals like water and roll down her hand to hit the ground in a splatter of
brilliant pigment. The flowers at your feet waver and flush vibrantly, buds
unfurling in even more vivid hues.

Teleporting!

Aramel gives a single rainbow orchid to a golden-eyed bard.

A golden-eyed bard smiles radiantly as she slides her fingers across the petals
of the orchid, admiring the colours.

Aramel beams broadly.

Quietly, the bard sits on the mountain trail and draws the flower to her lips.
She murmurs something too softly to hear and the colours shift fluidly across
the five petals as though alive, dividing themselves into neat stripes again.

Delicately running her forefinger across the narrow streak of black, the bard
smiles as the colour comes off onto her skin, staining it with inky darkness.
She flicks her wrist and the black slides off her hand and marks a perfect
circle upon the ground.

With equal care, the bard draws the other colours out of the flower: purple,
silver, and yellow are coaxed from the fragile petals and dropped neatly beside
the black. She pauses as the red coats her hand like a bloody glove and smiles
in perfect serenity before laying it alongside the others.

Brown, white, and gold emerge from the pristine orchid, which is beginning to
take on its initial nondescript grey hue. The bard turns the flower over in her
hands thoughtfully before taking out the blue and then finally, reverently, the
green.

Critically eyeing the discs of colour on the ground, the bard idly traces a
circle that encompasses all of them. The rock fluidly parts at her touch,
drawing back from a ring of stone shaped like nothing more than a painter's
palette.

Getting to her feet again with the palette, the bard thoughtfully twirls the
plain grey orchid between her fingers. She smiles to herself and dips the barest
edge of one petal into the snowy white section of the palette, watching the
flower soak up the colour. Almost as an afterthought, she dabs a hint of yellow
at the orchid's centre and then tucks it neatly behind one ear.

Aramel Talnara, of the Lunar Mysteries says, "Lovely."

Across the heavens, the stars and moon challenge night's dark reign, revealing
familiar constellations that tell the tales of myth and legend.

Tilting her head to look at the sky, A golden-eyed bard says, "Wonderful."

A golden-eyed bard says, "Now, shall we find some of those errant wildflowers?"

A golden-eyed bard begins to follow Aramel.

Unblooded Daurentoir says, "That was...quite the performance."

Aramel Talnara, of the Lunar Mysteries says, "Of course!"

Walking!

A golden-eyed bard leans forward, dipping a finger very lightly into the green.
A golden-eyed bard very carefully, she traces the closest leaf with the pigment.

Leaves rustle and furl as the patch of wildflowers contracts in upon itself,
moving aside fluidly at the will of the bard.

A golden-eyed bard says, "Ah... so much better, don't you think?"

Cordala nods her head emphatically.

The corners of Daurentoir's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.

Aramel Talnara, of the Lunar Mysteries says, "Yes, they do not obstruct the path
now."
Aramel Talnara, of the Lunar Mysteries says, "They beautify it!"

Aramel claps her hands together merrily.

Lendren's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

A golden-eyed bard exclaims, "Let's find a few more, and perhaps that will
convince the rest to behave!"

Walking!

Aramel Talnara, of the Lunar Mysteries says, "Should we go find the other
patches also, or will all - ah."

A golden-eyed bard selects the yellow tint this time, marking it over her palm
before she cups one of the yellow wildflowers in her hand.

Leaves rustle and furl as the patch of wildflowers contracts in upon itself,
moving aside fluidly at the will of the bard.

Walking!

A golden-eyed bard bends as she touches the blue paint, and outlines the shape
of a bluebell amid the myriad flowers.

Meekly responding to the strange bard, the wildflowers settle back away from the
path, leaving it clear once more.

A golden-eyed bard tilts her head back to look at the sky.

A golden-eyed bard gets to her knees and whispers softly to the gathered
flowers.

Across the Basin of Life, the wildflowers stir as though in an unseen breeze and
break away from the myriad paths, leaving them clear once again.

A golden-eyed bard gets back to her feet and smiles.

Aramel Talnara, of the Lunar Mysteries says, "This is very well! Thank you,
Mai."

Cordala nods her head in agreement.

A golden-eyed bard places a finger across her lips.

The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.

Aramel tilts her head curiously.

With great fondness, the bard reaches for a single bluebell amid the
overabundance of wildflowers lining the mountain trail. She carefully separates
and uproots the delicate flower, cupping the fragile stem in her hands as though
it were a precious thing.

Lifting her head, the bard looks at the sky as she caresses the little bluebell
tenderly. Flecks of blue shimmer across the back of her hand and up her arm,
bending into iridescent shades of colour and light as they dance across her
skin.

The gold in her eyes suddenly deepens as the bard reaches carelessly for the
thick veil covering her hair. She pulls it aside, and as she does a
transformation takes place.

Power surges over the woman's skin as She lifts effortlessly from the ground, no
mere mortal but an Elder Goddess wreathed in colourful splendour. The expression
on Her face softens as She ascends, laughing, into the sky above the mountains.

The clouds part across the northern mountain range as flecks of light gather.

A figure emerges from the aurora and streaks across the sky in an aura of
colour, descending upon Avechna's Peak.

Walking!

You trace the path laid out by the wildflowers, vibrant colour suffusing the air
and obstructing your vision in an array of rainbow hues before the vision passes
and you find yourself somewhere else.


The Fulcrux of Maylea.
Branches twine overhead, the ambient light filtering through the thick, vibrant
green canopy to dapple this copse of young beeches in flecks of brilliant gold.
In the shade cast by the leaves, bluebells have grown across the ground so
thickly that the sky might be dwelling underneath the trees. Each delicate
blossom shimmers faintly with a hidden power, beautiful and ethereal in nature.
Where the beeches stand aside to form a grove of vibrant blue, the flowers
soften each footstep to a whisper of sound, and even the trees seem to bow
quietly towards the shrine placed at its centre. Outside of the grove, the
bluebells fall away gracefully from a colourful path of vibrant, low-lying
wildflowers that passes seamlessly into the aether. Light arcs across the
surface of a standing stone, bending in shifting patterns of colour.


She is a radiant immortal and possesses an intrinsic vibrance and life. A faint
aura of power plays across Her slender frame and sets Her dusky skin aglow in
faint, prismatic hues. Streaks of deep blue wind through Her chestnut hair as it
falls straight down Her back to the hips, framing Her face in shifting colour.
There is something thoughtful and introspective about Her expression and
brilliant golden eyes, as though She gazes farther into the soul, brushing aside
the impermanent layers of existence to seek the truth within. She is wearing a
woven sari edged in prismatic embroidery, an armband of twining vines, a
trailing rainbow sash, an anklet hung with crystal chimes, and a single white
orchid in her hair.

You look at a woven sari edged in prismatic embroidery that Maylea is wearing:
Woven of ethereal gossamer thread, the fabric comprising this sari is as light as air, almost floating over the body below. Wrapped neatly around the waist, it falls gracefully to the wearer's ankles in generous folds of downy softness. Drawn from the waist around the back and chest, the decorated tail of the garment is folded at the left shoulder and allowed to dangle down the back, leaving the right shoulder and both arms completely bare. The elaborate embroidery along the trailing hem of the sari is vaguely metallic in nature, refracting the light in prismatic shades of colour.

You look at a trailing rainbow sash that Maylea is wearing:
As the rainbows formed in the sky are composed of arcing motes of various hues of prismatic light, so is this sash, formed by some divine hand. Seemingly plucked from the sky itself, the sash extends far beyond the form it encircles, leaving faint remnants of light to shine where it is has trailed.

You look at an anklet hung with crystal chimes that Maylea is wearing:
A loop of pure silver as fine as spider's silk wraps around the ankle loosely, no clasp to mar its pristine length. Slender crystal chimes are placed along the metal, attached as naturally as though they have grown there. Each chime is perfectly clear, carved with scrolling lines that come together into an intricate, though miniscule, script. As the wearer moves, the anklet emits a soft, erratic lullaby as the crystals softly touch each other, somehow soothing and familiar.

You look at an armband of twining vines that Maylea is wearing:
A network of thin vines wraps around the bearer's upper arm, clinging like a second skin. As vibrant and fresh as though still planted in the earth, the vines form a beautiful filigree knot centred across the tricep. Light faintly glistens across the greenery, cast from several tiny flowers blossoming along the edges of the living braid.

Shrine:
Hewn directly from the face of the mountains, this standing stone is a plain shaft of granite carved into the shape of an obelisk. Scrolling script winds around the stone in elegant spirals, each letter softly glowing although the words are indecipherable. The light gathers strangely around the unknown lines of verse as though drawn to the words, playing across the bare rock in arcs that bend and split into prismatic colours.
It weighs about 375 pounds.