Lily's Memoirs

The Wedding Planner

It’s something of a shame that the cultural side to Puddleby has fallen to such disarray. My old clan, Eghorus Rising, was meant to promote non-hunting, mostly cultural events. Wouldn’t a wedding be a cultural event?

What matters more? A personal disdain or the greater good?

A wedding was meant to occur last night, and it did not. One who is proving to be unreliable in many ways was meant to officiate. It may have gone on if said individual had shown up. And after all the effort the Bride had gone to trying to schedule it.

I quite like the Bride, and so I have once again found myself in the position of ‘Wedding Planner.’ At least this wedding proves to be simpler than Swanky’s. It might actually happen, even!

I suppose what bothers me most is that despite what I felt my old clan stood for, the still-member not only did nothing to assist, but seemed to really be uncaring one way or the other. It may be a bit strong, but I’m not sure they actually should be wearing that clan symbol if that is their attitude. Then again, they’ve been quite busy and perhaps just don’t have the energy. It still feels quite wrong to me, in the end.

I may have taken up issue were I still a member, but the fact is, I’m not. I don’t have a say in who wears that symbol anymore, or what it stands for.

The Frustration of Waiting

I finally put all of the pieces together, and I am almost done with my own personal puzzle. I wait for feedback from a friend and mentor, and he has stated he is taking this very seriously, given how important it is to me.

I will be glad when it’s over. When the puzzle is truly finished, and I stand back to watch what happens. It’s been a relatively stressful few seasons as I’ve worked through this. I have even gotten comments as to how I am not around as much, yet I feel I am as active, if not more so, than ever.

I may see about taking a vacation to Peaceton once all is said and done. I’m just so tired.

Ponycorn Weddings..

A fairly impromptu wedding occurred a little while ago, the wedding of King George the Second and … miss Jane.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I have absolutely no issue with people finding, exploring, and pursuing love. Especially the meaningful kind.

I have to wonder, though, what the rush was.

That being said, I officiated the ceremony. I had a couple of days to prepare.. Something.. And it meant so much to Bulky that I wanted to do it justice. I wrote out a nice little blurb about unorthodox couples here in Lok’Groton, but when the time came.. I decided simple was better. Both “fathers” (for lack of a better term) seemed on edge and worrying excessively. I feel a blurb defending the validity of their ponycorns getting married might have resulted in one or both of them to have a breakdown.

For such an impromptu ceremony, it was very nice. Main trouble was that the food went bad before the ceremony even started. I was almost late, so I couldn’t even try to give direction. I probably could have avoided that.

Either way, with a few tweaks, that could have been a wedding of the finest caliber on the Lok’Groton isles. ser Slyph and Swanky should take a page from Bulky’s and sir Coldy’s book.

That being said, I will presume, given the name, that we have Royal Ponycorns now. King George and his Queen, Lady Jane.

Morning Muses

Nothing is quite as nice as waking up in the Sun’s embrace. I fell asleep under the library tree earlier this zodiac, and I lay half-awake in the Sun’s warmth. It seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket, or like a lover holding me tight.

I probably looked ridiculous, smiling softly in my half-awake state, to mister Blansden (if I’ve remembered his name correctly). I think I might need to consider moving into a treehouse soon. Living underground, I can never position myself to wake in that embrace. Unless I can somehow capture the Sun’s embrace some other way.

It could also be that I am overworking myself and this was a brief moment of solitude and worrilessness.

I think I’ll be glad when this year becomes a memory.

Reflections
It’s not truly my job to take care of anyone. There is no obligation for me to do so. It has been “suggested” that I feel obligated due to various rumored assumptions.
In truth, I consider them a friend. When my friends have bad days, I do what I can to cheer them up. When they have bad weeks, I throw a minor party. When they have bad months, I organize goal-oriented expeditions to give them a victory.
The real trouble with this one, which I have come to realize, is that not understanding the circumstances around it, failing to be proactive about understanding it, and presuming that it was fairly ordinary has resulted in quite the frustration for myself and my friends.
In the future, three things need to happen when I set out on something as ambitious as this (and I honestly didn’t feel it was that ambitious to start!):

Actual research into the matter-at-hand, even if others know what they’re doing, it’s important for me to have some idea as to what’s going on.

If I am unable to do said research, I make sure someone who is knowledgeable is there and in charge.

Regardless of the situation, set a time limit as to how long I can manage in case everything else goes wrong, there is no use hurting myself when things just aren’t going well.

The Disaster, in brief
It started off promising, we had a strong force of support, we were (relatively) within the right time frame, and nobody was asking questions.
I only started to get a bad feeling when we reached step 2 and there was an impressive rush north, but sometimes it’s better to be thorough in case bad things happen, right?
Things didn’t truly reveal how bad they were until we managed to solidify things, clear step four, and it was revealed that the strongest among us really did not know what they were doing.

In the end, it was 12 hours, give or take, of effort which ultimately resulted in my friend feeling a bit worse for wear and nothing but truly confused exiles to show for it.

My Minor Guilt
After this, I was particularly down. It occurs to me later that it is potentially selfish to feel so down about the failure in question. This wasn’t about me, and my feeling down only oriented focus on to me. Other friends jumped in to offer support and comfort when I wasn’t truly the one who needed it.
I did learn a good deal during this time, however, and should be better prepared when this situation arises again. I sometimes wish I were all grown up already, and stopped behaving quite like a child at times.

… Cont’d
That is why I walk this windy highway
And stop and hark
And peer through the moonlight–always my way!
And listen up the dark
And knuckle my forehead to remember her truly,
The very She;
And that is why I cling your rein unduly
To answer me!”

But the eyes were deep and dark, though somehow tender.
Haste was manifest
In the gauntlet, the greaves, the irid splendor
That pulsed on his breast.
He did not even gesture to the night grown holy,
But shook his rein
As his steed leapt forth; while I–turned slowly
To the cities of the plain.

The Two Albinos

So it has been a good, long time since we saw the Loyalists in Puddleby. They’ve disappeared along with the members of the True and Gentle Knighthood.

And then a Thoom, one mister Quincy, or rather.. “Lord Quincy Tiberus Broadfin IX,” has announced that he is collecting tax on the citizens of the Lok’Groton islands. A Thoom of apparent noble standing, or bloodline, or something. I have to admit, the title posturing bored me.

Obviously, this would not go over well with exiles. The self-proclaimed Sheriff of Puddleby made a statement to pay nothing, one mister Rosencrantz – I’ve seen this young man around, he’s quite a sourpuss – rebutted by claiming it was treason to not pay your taxes. Then, miss Borkiron pointed out that the punishment for treason was to be exiled to the Lok’Groton islands. The entire exchange was excellent!

So on an ordinary day, nothing out of the ordinary, during a quiet time in town center, both these men – mister Quincy and mister Rosencrantz – happened to wander into town.

The spectacle was amazing. The first thought that crossed my mind was that they looked like a pair of Albino Mahas seeing each other for the first time. As though they did not quite believe the other existed.

There was a great deal of posturing, mister Quincy was exiled for “court intrigue,” while mister Rosencrantz was exiled as “a victim of conspiracy.” All in all, they sounded very much as though they were more interested in impressing the other as to their standing within the Imperial nobility.

mister Geotzou and miss D’Ead decided it would be fun to come and antagonize the Thoom, which resulted in threats back and forth, involving nobility versus the strength of the exiles.

The conversation continued into what seemed to be an invitation for mister Quincy to go and visit mister Lugubrion’s keep through the Thoom-only entrance in the marsh.

The timing was interesting as the Falinea’s Blade crew finished their hunt and came to join us in town center. mister Geotzou took the opportunity to cast sideways insults at mister Quincy, and causing mister Rosencrantz to act as though he were a protector.

mister Quincy did seem to humble himself to sir Coldy. Apparently Knighthood exempts mister Coldy from paying the tax, but for a respectful request of assistance. Funny how these things work. If only ser Slyph were around, that would be quite the show.

The exiles of Puddleby continued to torment mister Quincy and mister Rosencrantz, though the latter to a lesser extent. Comments were made about a pig eating the emperor, and jokes made about the expense of currency.

mister Geotzou seemed terribly disturbed by the entire ordeal and left after a final insult directed toward mister Quincy.

My opinion of these two: These loyalists give a bad name to their cause. Their posturing and lack of any sort of respect toward exiles will only lead toward animosity. Of course, the smartest course of action would be to be polite, kind, and overall sociable. These two manage to make smart seem downright genius. The animosity they managed to accrue in such a short period of time makes me amazed that we have the reputation of being a helpful and friendly community. Though, on the other hand, I suppose if we are antagonized as a whole, it is easy to rile the strongest among us to defend the weakers.

Champion Training and Mandibles

Somehow I managed to go along on a trip to the Arachnoid cavern to accompany mister Quincy on his quest to become a Champion. A champion of what is what I so longed to ask him, but I presumed it would only lead to more haughty posturing, so I refrained.

miss D’Ead accompanied, along with miss Aurelie, and of course, mister Rosencrantz. I am not entirely sure why ‘Noids was the pick for Champion training, but it was definitely lucrative. mister Rosencrantz seems to have trained with mister Longtooth somewhere along the way.

As a side note, miss Aurelie was quite protective of my safety. I was impressed and flattered! She made sure to position herself between me and the Arachnoids at all times, I’ve never had a healer be quite so protective of me. I feel this begs a nickname, something that reflects this quite flattering and generous behavior of miss Aurelie’s. Her hair is quite flowing and fiery, perhaps simply calling her ‘Red’ would suffice. Perhaps not, I will give it more thought.

Back to the story, mister Quincy seems particularly sure of himself, as he claims to have led troops back on the mainland. Either way, we kept being pushed back due to his continuing to fight from behind. I suggested we head out of the deep cavern in order to allow for a repositioning in the choke, and I was informed it was unnecessary. Not ten minutes later, mister Quincy is ordering us out of the cavern to reposition. I refrained, wonderfully, from commenting.

Science was brought up, as miss Aurelie went about testing her range with her mercurial staff. mister Rosencrantz decided that calling me lazy would shut me up when I contended with him that science is not just for mystics. This stereotype is an interesting one, I wonder how I developed it.

And then the crucial moment of revealing that I am not, in fact, a boosting mystic came to light. mister Quincy completely surprised me by respecting, or at least accepting, my decision. Mention of inquisitors and mystical training seemed to upset Aurelie to a degree, I will admit that I am intrigued, but I won’t pry on her stories. After all, I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me.

I managed to get somewhat protective of miss Aurelie and began to antagonize the two. I feel somewhat silly for allowing it, though still, it was clear their glorifying the Empire and demeaning Puddleby was upsetting miss Aurelie to a large extent. It could be argued that I was upholding my Knightly duties, I suppose.

My ultimate conclusion on these two is that they feed off of each other, without a care to anyone else involved. As one made a comment, the other would take it and either expand or correct it in great detail. Somehow, they believe they are of the highest authority, and they don’t have any need to pay attention to what others around them say. If they had any of the honor they claimed, they would surely have noticed when a lady such as miss Aurelie was getting distraught and at least have the decency to avoid the topic.

If you saw blue eyes that could light and darkle
With merriment or pain;
If you saw a face that was only heart–lonely
In the cities of the plain;
If you felt a kindness that was happy as the daybreak,
Patient as night,
And saw the eyes lift and–the dawn in May break,
You have seen her aright.

Blue-cloaked archangel, rein your steed a little,
Though cities flame!
Messenger of night, though my words are brittle,
Though I know not your name,
Though your steed paw sparkles and your pinions quiver
With colors like the sea,
Tell me if you saw her, if you saw my love ever!
She is lost to me.(1)

Her Return

Long and away, words up to the tippy tops of my ears. I can’t seem to get enough of them, though. If I’m not reading them, I’m creating them. I discovered a collection of tomes that drew my attention quite effectively. They spoke of many subjects, expanding from the art of communication to the simple, basic levels of mathematics that I have been struggling with. There is always more to read, to learn, to expand my repertoire with.

I’ve since rediscovered the spark that initially set the flame, and now that I have truly rediscovered who I am, and what I am about, I have returned to stay. With a new focus, a new drive, and the support with which to achieve the things I wish to, I will not be so easily distracted again.

Lovely promises, but you, dear reader, and I both know that that is quite a difficult promise to keep. So, my compromise is to record better, more often, and in such ways where I have the absolute delight in knowing that only those truly in the know can understand what I mean, and even then, it might prove difficult for them. This serves me in a way to record what happens without revealing things to those who don’t need to understand, and the chance to speak to those in the lands who wish to know. An excuse to meet new people, if you will.

And it has so far succeeded! I met a new Ma’ta who asked me specifically about my writings: Ma’ta Drablak. He is rapidly becoming a very good friend, and approaching the point where he is going to require a nickname. I will be giving this thought as time goes on.

Hel Hath No Fury

One of my big motivators lately has been cementing my friendship with Ma’ta Drablak and accomplishing with him what I feel our community severely lacks. It has been great fun so far, and I have even brought my brother and companion into the mix. We are almost ready to make Ma’ta Drablak’s dream become a reality!

Just you watch us run, oh dear reader.

The Fretty-Fishy Meta-crisis

I came out of the library this evening, and much to my surprise, it seemed to be a Journeyman takeover! Of our ranks there was myself, Fretty, miss Sonndyh, and mister Zex. miss Sonndyh was fallen beyond the rift that appears every four years or so, and Fretty was just on his way back… With her on a chain.

Now let me explain the significance of this: Fretty does not chain. Not usually. Not unless he absolutely has to. He stood next to me in South Forest one time for quite a while prior to giving up and just chaining me back to town. He prefers not using his chain, and not ruining someone else’s trip by chaining them back to town. Fairly sensible, but not always practical.

Anyway, now that that’s been explained, I began to tease him about turning into Fishy (which, if you don’t already know, was the name for Swanky). Swanky is a rescue mystic.

Not to mention, not an hour later, mister Dalex fell just before the final non-town-drunk healer dashed into the library! Fretty whipped out his Skristal and got not just a reading, but a very accurate reading.

And finally, the icing on the cake: We launch a four-mystic rescue of mister Dalex. mister Zex is quite good at boosting my clumsiness away, by the way.

mister Zex, miss Sonndyh, Fretty, and myself all dash toward Savannah! This is a bit of a feat, since none of us quite remember the exact way to get there. I feel as though mister Zex and I were on similar ground, as I had a vague idea, but was not entirely certain.

We finally get to the Savannah, where mister Dalex is fallen (specifically the Maha Den). We are greeted right away by a Plains Maha Ruknee, which smelled us coming, I’ll bet.


We take off at a run, Fretty and miss Sonndyh trying to escape the Maha to the south, mister Zex and myself to the east. Somehow, miss Sonndyh and I end up leading…




Fretty and mister Zex take the opportunity to make a dash to the Maha Den. I’m not entirely clear as to what happened on their end, but miss Sonndyh had a stunning revelation while we lay there, too wounded to be of any more help..

After some time, mister Zex comes back to join miss Sonndyh and I. Fretty still has not fallen. What is going on is not entirely clear, but I know that not all hope is lost.

A few agonizing moments pass when from the east..

Fretty appears, mister Dalex in tow, wraps his chain around miss Sonndyh and I and quickly begins his run toward the Marsh. mister Zex reacts quickly and keeps up with little to no difficulty. One last test of Fretty’s constitution awaited him toward the exit of the Savannah, but it was not quite enough to stop his new-found resolve.

Once we had made it to relative safety, Fretty began going through various stages of change:

He continued his lamenting in town, as mister Stora restored everyone to a healthy state, and mister Zex reflected upon what had happened.

And, finally, Fretty comes to terms with his situation.. And begins to accept his situation and what he has just done.

After that excitement, we settled down in idle chatter for a time. mister Rodan appeared from the library, and for the first time, I actually met him face-to-face. I’d seen that he had been in the lands, but had not had the pleasure of actually seeing him, myself. It was actually quite pleasing to not be of the dominant race of mystics for a change.


mister Yonosuke ventured out of the library, he was wearing Fresh Off the Boat greys and ventured off to kill rats. Fretty, misters Zex and Rodan, and miss Sonndyh made it a game to see how many times they could boost mister Yonosuke whenever he returned to mister Stora for a quick heal.

mister Yonosuke took it in good humor, wished us well, and went to sleep not too long after that large vermine had been defeated.

Later, as Fretty and I were working on our respective paperwork, a Darshak Acolyte decided to toss fire at me. We went in search of him, and I found him lurking near the clan house. I cornered him and took him on.. I nearly won, too!

As it turns out, Fretty has reverted back to his state of denial..

I will be checking to make sure he is not growing throat sacs in his sleep.

Before the Party

The months leading up to the engagement party, once it had been decided that we were doing that, were busy and full of things to do.

As those months turned into days, however, things started to unravel. Between Swanky getting anxious and worried about what would happen if an old flame was going to stab him in his gullet to my friendship with Fretty being brought into question with hateful, stabbing accusations, these few days could not have gotten much worse.

As the day of the party began, I suddenly realized the rather long list of things that we had not handled. In my mad dash to the brewery, I cursed and swore at myself for not handling these things days before.

Of all the things to forget to officially handle, food and alcohol was, as I was told, most of the point of a party. Of course, I had the excuse that Fretty had been working hard to find and hire available brewers and bakers, but it was just too late for that. Excuses for procrastination are convenient, but I have to stop letting myself get comfortable.

Swanky met me in the Brewery and was honestly not all that helpful. He even suggested buying the brewery out entirely and not worrying about it. I had to “gently” remind him that no one could carry that much alcohol, and if they could, there’d be no room for food.

However, he did give me the money and called the Eghorus Rising clerk, miss Lyrale, to help out with storing the alcohol and food we procured. This was my first time meeting miss Lyrale, and she was very soft-spoken. However, she seemed to be good at organizing and storing things.

After miss Lyrale had retired, overflowing with goodies for the party, Swanky mentioned his trouble obtaining an albino maha shirt, even on loan, for the party. He still wants to get one for himself permanently, but he desperately wanted to out-do his orange outfit for the party. I believe miss Jeanne supplied a shirt near the last second, though, so many many thanks to her for that!

Talking about his outfit made me realize that I still hadn’t even contemplated my own. I asked for Swanky’s opinion, we experimented for a while, he completely ruled out a skirted outfit. To be honest, while possibly more festive.. Whoever designs skirts do not take into account female Fen’neko anatomy. Perhaps it fits to some tastes, but I definitely do not look flattering in it.

Anyway! Enough about the skirts. After looking through my available wardrobe, he suggested my light blue shirt with my dark dark green pants. It looked good enough that I’ve been wearing it since he suggested it. Ma’ta Phiros even said it looked cute, which was quite a compliment given his critiquing of my other outfits.

Once outfits were sorted, I spent some time trading pep-talks with Swanky and periodically double-checking to make sure the Ethereal Plane hadn’t decided to swallow Gaia’s Garden whole. While we were doing this, Ma’ta Phiros was working on his setlist for the event. After a couple hours of talking and checking, I decided to drop in on Ma’ta Phiros in an attempt to calm my own nerves. He graciously accepted my company and I got to listen as he rehearsed and composed for the party. It was soothing in its own way. I’ve since been considering ser Slyph’s demand that I become a bard a bit more seriously.

While we were there, Frothy made a reappearance. I quickly invited him to join us, along with Swanky. After a bit of a mishap which ended in Swanky, miss Macmaggie and myself falling.. And miss Azel appearing to help us out.. We were all assembled in the bard’s field. Ma’ta Phiros announced that Frothy was an honorary member of Eghorus Rising! I was really happy about this, and maybe when Frothy makes a full return, it will be made official. I think he’s been looking for a good home since he left the Llehn. I suspect we’ll be analyzing his progress and deciding whether to make it official a little after his return.

We spent a good amount of time with Frothy before he had to go, and before he left I took him to see mister Dyaus and miss Astoria. They had a pleasant conversation and then all three took to their studies again. By that time, it was almost time for the party, and the people involved with the preparations were gathering in the garden.

Last minute preparations and the party

In attendance at the pre-party meeting were (in order) mister Ojesi, Ma’ta Phiros, myself, Swanky, ser Slyph, and finally Fretty. Ma’ta Phiros expressed concern with how crowded the garden was going to get prior to the party, and I explained that the place held a great significance for the happy couple. After that, ser Slyph started going on about having the party in the morning. I nearly had a conniption fit with how much complaining she had. Her inability to see the significance bothered me greatly. Fretty did step in and say that it would be afternoon by the time we got started. It was a bit of a lie, but it seemed to calm her down.

After running everyone through the plan for the party, I took to myself. My last shred of confidence gone after my laying out what would happen. I won’t even get into how the efforts put into preparation felt stomped on by ser Slyph and Swanky, though I wonder if some of their requests weren’t specifically designed in order to do that.

Ma’ta Phiros followed me and started yelling at me. I wasn’t proud of myself enough, I wasn’t confident enough, I’ve been letting my studies slip, on and on he went for a while. Nearly brought me to tears, but I managed to hold it together.

After he left, I had about an hour to regain myself before miss Lyrale appeared and I called for people to help me handle refreshments. miss Jeanne and Bulky kindly volunteered and came with plenty of space in their packs to handle the entire load. I think I forgot to tell them ahead of time that they would be considered employees and were entitled to payment for their help. They seemed unprepared for their payment when I finally did pay them. I had to reassure both that the help was invaluable. I couldn’t handle it myself.

I shouldn’t have had to face handling it myself, but Fretty and I weren’t exactly.. Communicating. I was too overwhelmed to really stop him when I realized he was making trips back and forth to the brewery, and as a result, he ended up doing more work than he really needed to. In retrospect, I’m not too sorry for that. He treated me pretty poorly a few days before the party. I really am vindictive, aren’t I?

I spent most of the party in a trance. I’m surprised my sungem didn’t wear down from all the use it saw during the party. Questions left and right, so many people who likely felt ignored because I was unable to keep up with all of the sunstones.

Some things I probably need to clear up:
– This was NOT the wedding
– The one presiding was NOT present, she hasn’t actually confirmed nor denied the request to preside at this point
– The maid of honor is NOT a figment of our imaginations, and I am not in charge of speaking to her

The party was a success, though. I even got compliments from Swanky and ser Slyph. When all was said and done, we’d done a fine job of bringing people together to celebrate the engagement. Excellent music provided by mister Ojesi and Ma’ta Phiros. I even got a visionstone of mister Ojesi’s dedication to the couple. The finale of the casino was exciting and entertaining for all of the people present.

I just have to top this for the wedding, which I believe I can do.

I’d like to make a note of all who attended :
Airlea, Articna, Athl, Aye’Cha, BluePheonix, Chopper, Connie Crete, Creed, D’Ead, Eirian Caldwell, Feodoric, Fiona, Gremlins, Han, Hel, Jeanne, Kaitlyn, Katrina, Leyenda, Lorikeet, Maeght, Mondegreen, Naferu, Natas, Noivad, Ojesi, Phaos, Phiros, Raul, Salazar, Semie, Sos, Stinkfist, Stora, and Var

Not a bad turnout in the least, and I’m sure we’re overlooking people.. But this was the list Swanky was able to make while I was so overwhelmed. Gifts, music, gambling, food, and booze. It was a good time, and I’m glad so many were able to attend! This party is truly an example of how, despite differences, we can come together as a community.

Brief followup, after-the-party
It took me almost a whole day to clean up Gaia’s Garden and the Golden Butterfly. I was sore and tired for the next day.
Things with Fretty have been discussed and we seem to be more communicative and friendly than prior to our argument.
I’ve had a heart-to-heart with Ma’ta Phiros and things are a bit clearer on that front, as well.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve had time to sit down and expunge my tired brain of what’s been going on.

It’s not that I’m any busier than before, it’s more that so much has happened and I’ve just not had the energy when I get here to write.

First and foremost, there’s the wedding.

The wedding is gradually coming together, with scheduling issues being sorted out. Announcements about the announcement party should be handled very soon, so long as Fretty doesn’t procrastinate.

ser Slyph’s “curse” has been unwound, and she’s looking much better. On pain of death, I’ve been instructed to not actually voice my opinion on the matter, so I’ll leave it at that.

I think the people around town haven’t been taking this marriage seriously. Just because it’s taking a while to put together doesn’t mean it’s any less real! I’m hoping that the party will alleviate the doubts. mister Dyaus and mister Ootog have been hired as Zo security, on the off-chance that an old flame arrives at the party and decides to gut Swanky like… I probably should leave it at that.

An update to my list :
– Find and invite mister Blubrug
– Hear back from Ma’ta Diotima
– Hear back from mister Xepel about his meeting with Bard Orphkin
– Start collecting Trophies for decoration
– Get on Swanky to handle his contest
– Finalize the wedding party
– Start putting pressure for coordinating attire of wedding party

All in all, I’m learning a lot from planning this wedding. It may not seem like much, but I’m learning how to motivate and coordinate exiles. I’m sure the skills I’m putting together for this will be valuable for other situations, as well. Despite the comments I’ve received about putting my studies on hold.

In other news..

A close friend of mine has been having a troubling time. It angers me when people talk about him, but gossip only perpetuates gossip. I refuse to contribute to it. When he’s feeling better, I trust it all will be forgotten.

ser Slyph has told me to become a bard. and I won’t deny that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind before. However, I am currently too swamped to try to write anything, much less contemplate auditioning, so this may end up being either forgotten entirely by ser Slyph or a long-term project.

And finally.. Ferals are obnoxious.

It’s frustrating when I have to step down from previous obligations. I had agreed to host and organize the pushball tournament, but I simply can’t currently. I have too much going on otherwise. I still have to inform Captain Stinkfist of this, but it’ll be handled soon.

Strike that, I didn’t exactly agree to it.. Much like everything, it was imposed-with-good-intentions. Captain Stinkfist is effectively promoting my community participation by entrusting this to me, but between my studies beginning to consume me and the wedding, I simply can’t schedule the tournament. I just don’t have the energy, not to mention the drive.

The wedding is almost all-consuming, mentally. Despite appearances, my mind is constantly re-rolling through the list of things I need to do. To conclude Teenage Folly, ser Slyph said “yes” to Fishy, and now they are engaged. Seemed quite sudden to me, personally, but they seem happy.

I thought I would be part of the wedding party, and it would be a simple matter of basic normal wedding duties and being able to watch it happen. I’m starting to believe that Fishy and ser Slyph are telepathic in some way and can read my deepest fears, and then take pleasure in using those fears against me.

Congratulations, Lily, you’re in charge of… Everything. I am the wedding director. I’m in charge of planning and pulling off an “extravagant” wedding, an event that anyone would be ashamed they missed. I believe the pressure here is quite intentional.

It all came about quite suddenly, and I must have looked like an idiot when I learned about my new position. They informed me, in front of all of town, that this was going to be the case. I hesitated a moment.. And then accepted it, thinking about a simplistic wedding of traditional Puddleby style. Wedding chapel, reception with music and refreshments. Then it began to trickle in. Extravagance, over-the-top, memorable. Cake, bards, invitations – likely to people who have long-since retired to study, decorations, outfits, original venue.. The list goes on and on. I imagine the expression on my face went from genuinely happy for ser Slyph and Fishy to one with a vapid smile and eyes of fear.

Were this a tale of a damsel in distress, there would need to be a hero. I don’t really consider myself a damsel, but I certainly was in distress mentally. Fretty stepped up to the challenge of playing the hero, and offered to be my “Personal Assistant” to help take a great deal of the weight off my shoulders. miss Miratisu was quite excited. Too excited for how overwhelmed I was feeling. She began listing cake ideas, forms of creatures found around the island. After a great deal of silence on my part, Fretty suggested she be hired to handle the cake arrangements, since she was so eager about it. Once I agreed, she started talking about venues. Oh my brain was going to explode!

Luckily, the wetlands needed help, and as soon as she left for the rescue, I went to hide. It was really all too much!

Fishy, of course, found me. He knows my hiding spots, seeing as we’ve been best friends for several years now. He reminded me that despite appearances, I was going to be able to handle it one step at a time, and it’s a big reason why he and ser Slyph had not set a date. It’s possibly the one kindness they have given me throughout this process so far. Fishy really is a good friend, and he managed to remind me that he was, indeed, my best friend.

There are now expectations from the people who know, and expectations from Fishy and ser Slyph that everyone should know. Probably already. I’m not one for public relations, so it’s another thing I will need to “Delegate, delegate, delegate” (Fretty’s words). Maybe I’ll ask him to handle that the next time I see him. Now there’s delegation for you.

As it stands, I have several things on my agenda to take care of already:

• Speak with mister Xepel
• Speak with Ma’ta Diotima
• Speak with mister Blubrug (miss Crete has agreed to help me look for him, so that’s some relief)
• Seek out bards and listen to their compositions to try to coordinate music played during the ceremony, or look for bards willing to compose new pieces (I will start with Ma’tas Phiros and Ansset, as they’re the most common bards I have familiarity with)
• Plan the announcement party for the official engagement announcement (which will be considerably less work, I think)

I will note that people who work “under” me, or I employ the services of, will be paid. I’ll have to discuss this with the bride and groom, however, as they are funding this extravaganza.

My biggest concern, honestly, has already been handled. miss Althea made an appearance while Fishy, ser Slyph, and I were in town. Well, ser Slyph arrived afterward.

mister Daimoth seems intent to stir up trouble, and informed miss Althea that ser Slyph was to be married. miss Althea took it in stride, despite Fishy being convinced that his life was in danger at miss Althea’s hand. I think he’s worrying for nothing. Either way, after what seems like a failed attempt at riling miss Althea into a jealous rage, he began to attempt to insult Fishy’s manhood, asking if Fishy is the husband or wife. Fishy responded in his typical antagonistic way, advising mister Daimoth to wear a pink ribbon around his head. mister Daimoth decided to threaten to “obliterate” Fishy’s being and divide the pieces across the planes of existence. This entire “conversation” was broadcast to all awake exiles at the time, so it was a public display of wit versus brute strength. Seeing as Fishy is not divided equally across all planes of existence.. I’ll leave it at that. All in all, mister Daimoth seems quite touchy when his masculinity is called into question. Not surprising in the least.

Enough about him, I am glad that miss Althea seems happy for ser Slyph, and it alleviates one of my – and Fretty’s – major concerns. If miss Althea showed up at the wedding to steal ser Slyph back, what would happen? I certainly hope we don’t find out. My impression of miss Althea is a good one, so I don’t think she will do that.

A good side to all of this is that I am able to spend more time with Fretty. I’ve learned a lot about him, and he seems to, begrudgingly, trust me. He is rather flighty, however. Can’t quite read his emotions, still. I’ll learn. The insinuations, however, are not helping.

Perhaps we are too hasty to call the antics of adolescence simply young and naïve. We smile and chuckle at it as adults as if we are beyond it, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I now believe we are all capable of, sometimes very susceptible to that behavior.

Take, for instance, Fishy. One of the oldest Thooms I know, not to mention exiles, and I hold a deep respect for his experiences in the world. It’s a privilege to be able to call him my best friend, or at least up until the most recent chain of events. That may be over now, he may no longer trust me.. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

I’ll start at the beginning and work my way up. The beginning is relative, though, as “how it came to pass” is more a private matter and not truly mine to tell, despite my telling of it to an individual involved.

During our recent visit to the Golden Butterfly, which seems to be at least a bi-zodiacal visit these days, I watched Fishy very closely. I’d been sitting on his feelings for just over two seasons. He’d told me not to tell her, and I didn’t; however, his “adolescent” angst at the situation shone through on the smaller things he said. She, of course, was oblivious.

She’s used to affections with no deeper meaning. People want to be close to her because of her renowned position in our society. She is a Knight, she is a performer, and she’s a personality our town has sorely missed. Her return sparked new life into Fishy, and then subtle misery.

Anyway, background aside.. My story actually opens when she exits the library.

Teenage Folly

I waited for her arrival for days, making sure I was always available for when she did come out from her studies, so that I would have time to speak with her. We exchanged our greetings briefly, and I asked for some time to speak with her privately.

I led her to a place I knew Fishy could not walk in on us accidentally. He had no idea of what I was about to do, and given the reaction afterward, it probably wouldn’t have happened if he had known. I, of course, blurted out that he couldn’t follow us here, and then we had to clarify that Zo bodyguards were not necessary.

I was scared.. No, I was terrified, mostly for his sake. If this went poorly, I would have ruined his chances entirely. It was a gamble of mine to get involved at all, and maybe I shouldn’t have.

After much flustering and sidestepping, as is the general rule with her, I finally got to my point. I cited the misletoe incident, which Lazy Ranger effectively sidestepped when it went badly, and told her simultaneously of Fishy’s affections and how I really didn’t want anything to happen to him.

Then things started to get strange.

She wanted to kill him, but she didn’t want to kill him. She was entirely taken by surprise, and seemed lost within her own thoughts. We briefly discussed some of her marital history, of which I will hold to myself, and then I explained to her how this came to pass.

She wanted to rest in town centre, to digest the information. Fishy was there, and entirely clueless as to what had transpired. She raved at him, vaguely. Gradually, he figured out that I had done something to spark this insanity. I invoked my mystic right to a tight tongue, which got him to stop asking for a short time.

Everyone in town seemed to believe she was referring to Fishy no longer training languages with her, and made inappropriate jokes to that effect. I, of course, could say absolutely nothing as I watched all of this unfold.

Then, after a stream of vague accusations escaped her lips, she exclaimed that she was going back to her studies. She informed Fishy, and all of town in the process, that they would be speaking very soon. Repeatedly.

Then she yelled that it would be a big wedding, which left everyone, including myself and Fishy, perplexed. I’m not actually sure where this leaves everything, but I hope it is positive.

Fen’neko Regret

After the events of Teenage Folly, I ran. I hid. I cowered. I cried. Fishy was clearly angry, and the proclamation of a wedding had all but ensured my demise.

My actions would have left my people ashamed, it might have forced me to re-do my rites as an adult Fen’neko. It was very shameful, but I don’t know how I would have handled things differently. Maybe, in the end, I’m not actually an adult, or maybe this is still a “matter of the heart.”

Regardless, Fishy found me. With mister Aganju at his side, I was chased. Not something I am proud of, again, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could to get away. Survival instincts, perhaps.

The elements were against me and it started to rain. I had no time to don my coat as the wretched rain matted my fur and weighed my flight down. I took shelter in the temple, and prepared for the worst.

Fishy and mister Aganju cornered me there, Fishy demanding answers that I did not honestly want to give him. I gave him vague answers, hoping the brazier would dry me enough so I could make my escape before I had to be directly honest. Unfortunately, it was not the case. It slipped out, and in my panic, I shoved Fishy to the side and stumbled out the temple doors back into the rain.

Again, I was running. I ran all around, trying to shake my pursuers. When I finally did, I dove into mister Bumgal’s hut and begged miss Zonne to hide me. I imagine she had heard the gossip, however, and ignored my request.

Shivering, wet, and cold, I finally donned my coat in the hopes it would bring some subtle comfort. There I waited, hoping for an idea to come across my mind to get me out of the mess I was in.

I thought of living on Thieves’ Island, I thought of trying to make it a joke, I thought of forever hiding from Fishy. None of these ideas were realistic, and before too long, Fishy and mister Aganju made an appearance.

mister Aganju took pity on me, I believe. He claimed that I would never wear my cloak indoors, and that I was, in fact, a sock puppet placed to throw Fishy off my scent. Or something to that effect. He then preyed on Fishy’s biggest weakness. He offered a trip to the casino to get Fishy’s mind off of things.

All the while, Fretty – dear Fretty – was sunstoning me, telling me he had a hiding place he could stash me in. I told him they were still there, and I couldn’t leave. While it was ultimately unnecessary, as mister Aganju had managed to distract Fishy, Fretty sent out general misinformation about my whereabouts in an attempt to lead Fishy away.

Once Fishy and mister Aganju had left, I waited. I waited long enough that I felt sure I could make a break for it. I followed Fretty’s directions, only to meet a walking dead that took a bite out of me before I could make it there.

Down into the underground I went, wounded and weakened. Fretty led the way, distracting spiders and other creatures that had smelled the blood from my wound as best he could. We ran a great ways before an arachne jumped out of hiding and felled me.

I could no longer run, I was too weak. I fell into despair and told Fretty the emotional jist of what had transpired. He comforted me, in his way, and told me he believed Fishy didn’t have it in him to actually kill me. It’s amazing how Fishy keeps his nefarious side to himself.

Then Fishy arrived and without a word, wrapped the chain around my arm securely, dragging me out of the underground. His lack of words only fueled my fears.

I was dragged through town centre, a spectacle for all to see, including Ma’ta Melben. miss Kitty – miss Boo Boo Kitty, not to be confused with miss Moon Kitty – set off in chase. When Fishy proclaimed we were headed to the casino and dove into the bank, the chain loosened its grasp and finally slipped off.

Fretty had miss Kitty heal me, and he and mister Aganju stood between Fishy and myself after his re-emergence from the bank.

Fishy struck a deal with me. I win him something from the casino, something grand, and he would forgive me. He even gave me two thousand coins to bet with. mister Aganju’s suggestion had saved my life, I will have to be sure to thank him the next time I see him.

Once inside the casino, I began rolling. mister Vashein was not agreeable, and I kept losing. I hid inside of my coat to hide my fear, and Fretty again tried to protect me. At that point, though, I was caught. It was this or perhaps death.

Once again, mister Aganju took pity on me, however. He handed me a metal and stood behind mister Vashein. His voice impersonations are quite impressive, as he made it seem as though mister Vashein had awarded me a metal.

Fishy did not seem impressed and insisted I keep rolling. This went on for some time, I did win an uli flower and four ore, but it didn’t seem to impress Fishy. Right up until he said he had forgiven me with the metal. Sometimes, I hate that Thoom. Putting me through emotional torture just so I would spin the wheel for him. I suppose your best friends can also be your worst enemies in the end, though.

Today was exciting!

After a few words in town center with Ma’ta Sally, Ma’ta Diotima, and Fishy, we decided to try for a run at the Abyss. Someone mentioned it in town, and it sparked the idea.. So off we went. Ma’ta Diotima assured us she would watch (likely giggling at our silliness the whole while).

What happened after we landed on Ash was almost bard-song worthy. Ma’ta Sally and Fishy are quite a spectacle to behold. I, of course, fell to a Greater Wraith almost at the doors to the Dark Temple. Ma’ta Sally swooped in with his trusty chain and hauled me through the looming doors.

Inside, he was met face-to-face with a hoarde of Skeletals and a ghost-man blocking the doorway for him to proceed further. Fishy caught up while Ma’ta Sally was trying to maneuver the skeletals and ghost-man away, and between the two, a coordinated effort was made to get past the small entrance into the deeper rooms of the temple.

Down the stairs they went, only to be met with a Greater Death. At least I think it was a Greater Death. Fishy selflessly sacrificed himself in order to allow Ma’ta Sally to swoop him up on the chain and continue on down the red path toward the Abyss.

On the way there, a faithless stopped Ma’ta Sally in his tracks. Quickly he moved to the side, whipped out his wand, and safely convinced the Faithless to kindly move out of the way. He swooped, once again, with his trusty chain, and dove headfirst into the abyss! Our destination achieved!

After much confusion from would-be rescuers, my Knight, ser Slyph, managed to figure out where we were. Boy was she mad, too. I’ve been sentenced to wearing tan indefinitely as a result of all of this.

Anyway! The rescuers came and met with the Greater Death I mentioned earlier. They began falling quite a lot as a result, and it has led me to assume that Fishy and Ma’ta Sally survived a Greater Death encounter! Very impressive indeed!

Once mister Naferu, miss Kitty, and their friends arrived, they made quick work of getting us pulled out of the Abyss. On the bright side, we managed to entertain some folks for a while!

I’d say wearing tan is worth it.. I might change my mind after I return to ser Slyph’s residence and see the list of chores she might have in store for me after this, though.