~ ~ Isle of Arran ~ ~: November 2010

~ ~ Welcome to the Isle of Arran ~ ~

This land has been swallowed by the sea.

There was a green place in a land far away, a place with a sheltering bay surrounded by jagged peaks and the shadow of a giant snow-clad mountain. To this place came a group of beings, as diverse as beings can be to one another, and they put down roots and made homes for themselves. Now, this is not to say there was peace in this land. With diversity also comes conflict and soon sides were taken, some friendships forgotten and lines were drawn. Some, thinking bigness means power, blamed the dragons for the conflict. Others, believing magic was the source, blamed the elves and fae. And of course, there were those that said that where you have humans, you will always have problems! So, instead of living in harmonious consort with each other, they split into their respective groups and moved to the four corners of the realm, eyeing each other with much suspicion and chagrin.
But of course, as we all know, in order to survive you have to get along with someone. So new friendships were forged and new bonds made. But in the Isle of Arran, those bonds do not last for long. Someone ALWAYS brings a shadow of a doubt to the fire…and then…things happen.

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Friday, November 12, 2010

Flickr set

Added a few pics to a flickr set here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/55031553@N03/sets/72157625157710285/

Anybody got any good ones to add? Send 'em over to Cyneswith Luik ;)

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Last Samhain Fire

Linwe stood one last time on the shores of the Isle of Arran, watching the flickering flames of the Samhain fire go down. Her last duty to the land. The waves would wash away the remains, just as she had cleansed the land of the poor spirits still roaming there. The bones had been burned. The animals removed and saved. The residents removed in time. There would be no more spirits here. The land, now fallow, would never see the bloom of spring again. She shook her head sadly and looked out at the impending storm, racing towards the island. Was this an end? Or was this a beginning? Certainly she herself had much to live for: her husband, her daughter, her grandson. But what of those others so near and dear to her? What about them? Who would care for Swith, now wandering the lands? Dexler and Justine would follow her. As would Mandi and the rest of Jacen's extended family. But what of the sweet fae? Would they find their way to happiness? What of the wild elves? SO elusive. This was not the first time they had lost their home to high waters and storm. And what of the evils? Were they so attached to the souls fo the living of Arran that they would follow them into new realms? A sharp spike of cold air pierced the elf's head as a foretelling came to her. In centuries to come, the voice said, a man named Yeats will say these words. Take heed. And listen:

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

This is a random collection of the people of Arran. Those who RP'ed on the Isle whom I do not have a good of, will not have a picture in this post. I would love to include one. If you have pictures you would like added, please give them to me either in world (notices cap regularly) or via email shilomeister @ gmail . com For convenient viewing, new photos will be placed at the top of this post.

As always, click on picture for a larger view.