It is 3 o'clock past Midnight, on the Day of the Deception,
the 9th Day of the Month of the Ancient Darkness, Year 317.
Personal Journal Of The Panthyri Archon - Salamander
Wedding of Kellindil & Aphrodite
Today I attended the wedding of two of the more convivial mortal powers I have met so
far: Lady Aphrodite and Sir Kellindil. Their wedding was an affair which was announced
across the whole of the realms by a three-fold means: there were bells ringing which
could be heard as far as there were beings to hear them, the other mortals hailed and
called out with news of the joyous occasion and the Gods themselves let all know that
the wedding was about to occur.
When finally i had dragged myself away from a particularly vicious horde of hobgoblins
(having foolishly decided to launch a retributary strike against their city on my own),
I found myself being accompanied into the Great Cathedral of Midgaard by such other
mortal luminaries as Gorf, Hawkeye and others too numerous to list by name.
For the first time in my life of vanquishing foes and conquering enemies and lands at
the behest of others and for the aggrandisement of myself and my Goddess, I found
myself both outclassed and outnumbered: the very air practically shimmered with the
amassed magical and mudane might that was present in the Cathedral!
Then, thinking myself to be hallucinating, I made myself a little scarce, retreating
towards the entry to the great arches which serve the Cathedral for a doorway. Once in
place, i cast my most powerful defences and augmentative spells (scarce comfort though
they would be, should trouble occur, it pays to be prepared in my line of work...).
Having refreshed myself somewhat, I realised that I had come to the wedding bearing
no gift nor token of goodwill, so I yet again pardoned myself and left. On my tour of
the city i passed many of our notable personages: from the charming Alake who serves us
by providing our lesser bretheren with magical trinkets to aid them in their travails,
to King Welmar himself, who thought haughty and somewhat arrogant seems nice enough for
a human. I found myself realising that no gift would be the equal of the Lady
Aphrodite's beauteous radiance, nor would any match the proud and mighty bearing
of Sir Kellindil.
I was faced with a dilemma.
Never have I found myself so wrought with anguish at my own shortcomings in regards to
procure a gift: throughout the realms it is known that I, Salamander the Panthyri
Archon, have at my disposal the means or connections to achieve ownership of virtually
all known items.
Yet what would do.... In the end it came to me, my dearest turncoat father had, upon a
time told me that when one cannot think of a gift to suit the splendidness of the
receivers of the gift, it is best to make the gift purposefully small, so as to appear
as though one had realised that nothing would do and that only a token could be given.
Still, I worried: I had killed my Father to achieve the rank of Panthyri Archon, as
he had almost led our race into the fathoms of Hell with his evil, his advice was
suspect.
I returned to the Cathedral in time for the beginning of the wedding, with what to most
was a small fortune, yet I knew would be a trinket to such as the
soon-to-be-newly-weds.
As I sat waiting, I noticed that a peaceful calm had settled over the congregation of
well-wishers. Then I began to suspect my protective spells had begun to fail, for i
began to see a slight haze before the altar. Lo! Behold! My surprise would have
shattered a mountain had it been tangible! A God appeared to conduct the ceremony of
wedlock in person...to this day i cannot rightly remember which Immortal deigned the
wedding with its presence as i had found the whole occurrance so startling.
After the joyous wedding ceremony, whereupon the ending there was released a cheer from
the amassed throng which was heard to the ends of the land, the well-wishers stepped
forward to congratulate the new couple and present their gifts: as I saw the kinds of
gifts being presented I started to falter, yet the new couple seemed kindly and managed
to reassure all those who attended, so I remained in my place, waiting.
When finally i returned to the present, I realised that I was next: Sir Kellindil stood
before me, wearing a fine black suit the likes of which King Welmar himself could never
afford to own; Lady Aphrodite was so resplendent in her wedding fineries that few mortals
may ever match her. I stood tall and proud, as my lineage demanded, bowing before the
couple and feeling almost lost before the amasses power in the Cathedral, I presented
my gift.
I stood in mute amazement as both greeted me like a long lost friend, and accepted my
gift with such grace i felt honour-bound to kneel before them.
The wedding feast lasted for a joyful time ( the only jarring moment was when a few of
us troted outside to "dispose" of a few cityguards who were intent on arresting one of
the wedding guests), we dined and danced, cheered and wept at the happy occasion.
Upon leaving the wedding we all felt as though we had all been blessed by a rather
special occasion, and to this day all who attended the wedding call themselves allies,
remembering a special time which we all shared, and which one couple will never forget
(I hope and pray they dont, even if we do all become retired adventurers sitting in the
Chicken's Rest talking about times gone by over a mug of ale).