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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Annael Promoted!


Gwaihir

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Annael!

I hereby strip you of your quill bearer rank

and make you a Troubador. Congratulations! It was well earned and I enjoyed reading your Quest

 

[apologies for the typo, thanks to Regel and Salinye for pointing it out]

Edited by Gwaihir
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Peredhil! What have I told you, young man? Go. Sit. In. The. Corner. Yui can't resist carrying the joke around with her as she torments the Polite Ancient's every step. She gives him a big grin to make up for her stern tone. :)

 

Congratulations, Annael! Your item was wonderful, and it shows your dedication to the Pen that you've done all this. No matter your title, please continue to grace us with your poems, stories and characters for as long as you possibly can. The young lady offers Annael a bright smile and a small, wrapped box in which rests a new quill, this one of carved wood inlaid with thin strands of silver instead of an animal's keratin. She turned away, hoping that the gift would prove a sufficient replacement for the Quill she had lost through her advancement.

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Annael! The wonderful fallen angel! I too LOVED your quill quest and very much enjoyed reading it and look forward to seeing it appear in future stories! Congratulations!!

 

*hugs gently as to not disturb any more feathers*

 

~Salinye :butterfly:

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Annael bluses as she accepts all the hugs and congratulations, but leans forward to whisper to Gwaihir, who in turn blinks and turns a little red

 

"Yes, well, Annael is a Herald....not a Troubadour....sorry Lady Celes"

 

 

Hehehe, thanks everyone. And Pered, I would except no less then a speech!! ;)

Edited by Annael
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The public announcement done, Gwaihir leads the happy Annael back through the Member's Only door. Barefoot and for once not leaving a trail of black feathers, the newest Herald follows.

 

Once inside, the door shuts with an ominous BOOM, making her jump, and the lights go out.

 

In a moment, candles flair and then settle to a warm glow.

 

All the Elders are gathered, and both the Loremaster stands before them. Vice Loremaster (and Elder) Gwaihir stands proudly at her side.

 

The other Members of the Pen are standing in eager ranks to welcome Annael, who flutters and then settles, a bit nervious at being center-stage.

 

"Who," booms Ozymandias' voice in regal intonations, "seeks admittance to the inner chambers of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword Keep." Everyone looks at Annael expectantly. A swirl of butterflies surrounds her momentarily, and their gentle kisses on her face wake first her brain from this unexpected shock, and then her lips.

 

"Me." She blushes as her voice squeaks, but then thrusts her chin forward stubbornly. Before she can start speaking her mind, Ozymandias speaks again.

 

"Who," rolls the resonant voice, "Will vouch for her worthiness to enter?"

 

Gwaihir draws himself up proudly and replies, "I am overjoyed to present Annael, who accepted and completed her Quest, to our membership." An impromptu cheer breaks out from some of the more excitable members, but the other Heralds shoosh them to silence. The Elders trust the Role Players to keep order in a ceremony like this. Some of the Poets roll their eyes at all the unnecessary fluff, but settle back down, knowing it meets some type of need in the rest.

 

"I am pleased to announce that Annael has chosen the rank of Herald." This time it's the Heralds who cheer, while the Poets gleefully remind them to keep order.

 

Ozymandias waits with impassive face until silence returns.

"Herald Annael, approach me please." Once she stands before him, he continues, "When Gwaihir told you of your acceptance, he took from you the Quill you'd been given when you earned the rank of Quill Bearer, the pinnacle of the non-voting ranks.

"Today, I am proud to present you with this," He extends his hand and gazes intently at it. The Gathered Elders focus on the empty hand as well, and a whisper of power winds its way from the very walls of the Pen to gather there. When the final silent vote has been passed, a long slender case of ivory, of the peculiar ambient hue found only in the tusk of a behemoth, rests lightly on the Loremaster's hand.

"Accept of me, given in my authority today, and representing the will of the Elders and the membership, your new Quill." Annael reaches forth and takes the flat box, as her butterflies dance intricately around her. In an odd sideways quirk of mind, she realizes her toes are rather chilled standing her like this. Forever she'll remember the smell of the candles, the flashing of their lights glimmering off the irredescent scales of her butterflies, and cold toes when she thinks of this moment.

 

"With this Quill," Ozymandias continued, refocusing her errant thoughts, "You now have the ability to cast your vote and be heard on all membership issues dealing with the Pen is Mightier than the Sword. You now bear and share the responsibility of guiding the guild into the future. You may sponsor members, as Gwaihir has done for you today, create polls, and boldly state your opinions. You are eligible to join one or more guilds, in which the members focus on the deeper Arts of their crafts, and cultivate those Arts outside our walls.

"Your Quill is unique to you, and irreplaceable. Care for your membership carefully, lest through inaction or cynicism it wither away."

 

"Welcome."

 

With that word, the applause and cheering erupts unchecked, and most of the membership surge forward to congratulate Annael. A few of the more Ancient or hungry ones head to the refreshments table to stock their plates before joining the line.

 

Annael nods and smiles and says her "thank you"s automatically, while her curiosity itches to know in what shape and attributes her Membership Quill has formed.

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