Eulogylore - Blog Posts
Rehnfolgen: a Fertility Festival celebrated through the Avarice Empire
The purpose of the holiday is to mimic a folkloric legend of a fey princess 3 clans warred over in ancient history in hopes she will bless their livestock and women, encouraging frequent breeding and general fertility.
**TW for weird dubious consent stuff. This is a fantasy empire in a fictional world that hasn't quite learned to drink the 'respect women' juice yet. That's sorta the point of the book I'm writing.
3 days prior to the selection party, men put their names in hats and are divided into 3 teams or 'hunting parties'. Women who are participating will then play a game of musical chairs where the winner is named 'Champions Quarr'y.' The game is meant to be random chance, but is commonly rigged so that if one of the women is recently engaged, in courtship with a man dragging his feet, or has a man present who needs a 'push' to pursue her, then she will likely be the one to win. Most participants would argue that this is for the good of the couple, but in reality, it has more to do with the other gentlemen's amusement. Over the next 3 days, the teams will strategize on and prepare the location that will be their encampment.
The night of Rhenfolgen, the women will gather at a local bath house to 'prepare the feast' using bath salts, poultices, perfumes, and powders infused and scented with herbs and fruits. She is then painted in a glaze of honey, berries, and citrus juices. She will then be dressed in nothing but flowers and leaves, with thin clothes over the breasts and nether regions for modesty. They will then lead her into the forest and to a lake where a small row boat will be waiting. The Sovran of Merriment will lead her into the boat, tie her wrists together with soft loose ribbons, and take her out over the river to a nearby island.
He will hide her somewhere on the island in a bed of flowers and leaves, then blow the horn to signal the beginning of the hunt. The goal of the hunt is to find your quarry before dawn, bring her back to your encampment, and then defend her from the other teams trying to steal her. The only 'weapons' allowed are colorful smoke bombs, children's bows tipped with soft cotton tips doused in colorful powders, and decorative hard paper swords, (Fireworks are not technically allowed but somehow always make their way into the festivities).
At dawn, the team leader in possession of the Champions Quarry is declared king of the hunt. The losing teams will gather at the winning teams encampment to celebrate their win. The losing teams are required to prepare and serve the feast. At the center of the feast, the chosen lady will be laid in a bed of fresh fruits. The rest of the day is filled with singing, dancing, bonfires, and lots of sexy shenanigans. Most notable of these is the men stripping themselves naked running through the encampment and around the fire slapping women with giant roast chicken drumsticks.
Near the end of the night, the men and women will gather in two lines, each holding a ribbon for the 'dance of wolves'. Men will dress themselves in furs and women in loose white knee-length dresses, colorful sashes, and flower crowns with small wood carved deer antlers. The goal is to unknot and separate the ribbons.
The men will then chase the women on the other end of his ribbon into the woods. Once caught, he will use the ribbon to tie her arms above her head and…make good on the holiday's purpose. While this is happening, the 'king of the hunt' will take his hard-won quarry to the champions tent. For the sake of decency, we will not elaborate further.
To End, We Must First Begin...
Tell me, have you heard the story of of words creation? Hmm, it's not all that surprising you haven't. The story of Bassan's creation is so rarely taught in our schools... I've even heard fellow scholars openly mock the story in front of their pupils. How unprofessional. Anyway, while the validity of the story is frequently brought into question by the more educated of us, I still believe that it is necessary we know our story in full.
Today, we leave behind the crampt, dust ridden shelves of the library, and that stuffy old lab to pay a visit to our local temple. I've arranged a meeting here in the courtyard with one of their priestesses. If you are to hear our story, it should be from those who know it best.
Centuries ago, before ships and trees and the founding of all things, the Almunashi, creator of all that is and will be, resided above in the cosmos. Here in the Avarice empire, they are better known as Lumina or the great Illuminate. There, they sat surrounded by nothingness. They felt nothing. They knew nothing. They were nothing.
Then, They found the light.
First, there was one, floating beside them in that great, great expansive void. But before long, one became two. Quickly, these little flickers of something split again and again, ever growing in intensity. They held that flickering spark in their hands and watched in mesmerized delight.
Delight? What is delight? What is wonder? All at once, Lumina's entire existence expanded. It grew, and it grew until their entire being coalesced in one brilliant moment of newfound awareness and exploded across that great expansive wasteless nothing.
The empty was gone; replaced with planets and stars and, best of all: life. Living breathing things of every shape and size roamed the newborn cosmos. There was life in the seas, life in the sky, and life on the lands. The greatest of their works were the humans, industrious little creatures capable of complex thought and creation, yet fragile and so very temporary. What was truly mesmerizing about this new life was its ability to grow, live, die, and live again. It was the perfect cycle, and in that cycle lived magic…but that is a story for another time.
The Great Illuminate had found life, and they intended to fill the universe with it.
But before long, the life they created was overwhelmed. These creatures battled, fought, and strove to tear themselves apart. This simply could not do. At once, they decided that these new things they had created needed order. So they created beings in their own image to rule over their creations: the Ajashraman. We know these ancient ageless beings born of the earth itself, Jhamran. These beings were capable of altering all of everything, just as Lumina had.
But even these new ruling creatures were quickly overwhelmed by both their unlimited potential and the endless expanse of forever that would come with their near immorality. They fought, battled, and nearly burned their new world to the ground. Alumnashi was greatly disturbed. These creatures should be perfect, they thought. How could they be so cruel? That is when they decided these beings needed more structure, still.
They pondered for seven days and seven nights, wondering how they might structure this new world. It was then that it struck them: there are simply too many forces acting on this world, so many that the structure I hoped to create dissolved into chaos. I must create those who can guide these things who I have created to give them purpose and a common goal to pursue. But they also worried that if they focused solely on order, they would lose the wonderful chaos that led the Aluminashi to that initial moment of euphoric discovery.
So, they created great and powerful guides for their leaders who would live separately above all things, The Aldhalimi. We know them as Halli. Seven would rule the day, bringing order and law. They would guide the world toward its purpose. To counteract the day would also be seven to rule the night. These would seed chaos and inspire innovation. In this way, their world would never become complacent and would retain the spontaneity that led to their ultimate creation.
Finally, Lumina's creations lived together in the world they had created. Observing this great work of theirs, they faded into the void, now teaming with life. For the first time in their infinite existence, they saw balance and equilibrium. Most important of all, they were no longer alone.
Sadly, Lumina would soon learn that with life and existence, there came another equal domineering force: Atrophy and life's natural urge to combat it. Balance would not last for long.
Where is the Aluminashi now, you ask? We’ll… no one is really quite sure. But, if you look up into the night sky and find that fortune is on your side you might catch a glimpse. Why, it would appear our Lady the Blessed Dawn Martyr has indeed blessed us with her fortune this fine night. Look, above your heads! See the brightest star in the sky, just to your right? Follow the lines of the stars and you might see a beautiful bowl with two hands pouring out the night sky.
That is the creator still today filling our universe with the luminous gift of life and light.
Verm-Vykkennpest:
Common Name - Vykker’s Fervor
"Look upon her frail beauty and think on the temporary nature of this bleak and unwieldy existence. For only in death can we truly appreciate the fragility of her life."
A newly emerging epidemic that seems to have arisen from the recent industrial revolution taking place at the center of the Avarice Empire. Vykker's Fervor is a disease affecting the lungs and bloodstream. Because it is so recent, there is an excess of misinformation being spread about the disease. In fact, some might argue that these misconceptions have traveled faster than the illness itself. This is false. Doctors studying the disease have discerned that the illness is caused by the overuse Of fossilized Vysterthorn roots harvested from sections of the Vermylliik forest which the Empire had set ablaze in their attempt to stop the spread of the Vermillion Draft. Despite this, information warning of the unforeseen consequences of this new technology has failed to gain traction due to ‘An Unprecedented Economic Growth Caused by its Introduction to the Industrial Sector’ Those knowledge about the illness would argue it has more to do with the unprecedented growth of men's pockets, but that is besides the point
Aproximately 65% of the Capitals population are currently infected with the Verm-Vykkenpest virus, better known as Vykker’s Fervor. What is unique about this illness is the slow progression of the disease. Until recently, Verm-Vykkenpest was a largely unknown disease that only affected those living in close proximity to the Vermylliik forest. Of those infected with the disease, approximately 10% of those will, on average, reach a point of active infection. If treated properly, only 3% of those who reach active disease are likely to die of the illness. This is likely the reason the disease had remained largely unknown prior to about 4 decades ago. Statistically, the illness has a very minor chance of fatality. However, that was prior to the disease gaining its terrifying strangle hold on larger centers of civilization.
Symptoms of Verm-Vykkennpest include sudden weight loss, shortness of breath, pale translucent skin, sunken eyes, insomnia, lethargy, persistent bruising, And bleeding.
As the disease progresses, the symptoms will slowly worsen. The first sign of this progression to late stage active disease is the coughing up of blood as well as the discovery of blood in the urine and stool. This is caused by the infection of the lungs and other organs slowly tearing away at the lining of the lungs until they eventually drown as the lungs are filled with blood and puss. The thinning of the blood also means that bruising and injuries caused by blunt force are much more likely to cause unseen bleeding, which would not usually be fatal.
The disease has been found to be dramatically worsened by several factors: weakened immune system and an unhealthy lifestyle. Doctors believe this is why the symptoms of those living in large population centers progress so quickly. This is also why Vykker's Fervor has become so widely known as a ‘rich man's disease.''’ Those looking to their local newsstand reading about the illness will only see reports of rich affluent members of society in silent repose and languishing in quiet apathy. This, of course, is only highlighted by the sudden change in feminine fashion. For example, it was published in a recent issue of Farfengel Femina that women hoping to ‘achieve to feminine Ideal’ should adopt these new self care habits.
- Line the veins with blue pencils to give the illusion of pale paper thin skin.
- Lace one’s corset to appear more thin and gaunt.
- Brushing one's face and neck with arsenic powder.
- Applying Essence of belladonna to achieve the sunken eye look.
- Redden one's lips and cheeks to mimic the feverish glow of sickness.
We have also seen a shift To lighter, pastel colors in women's dress to further emphasize the small, sickly, waifish look now popularized in fashionable society. Meanwhile, these same fashionable magazines ignore the hundreds of sick, disenfranchised, working class communities over Run with the disease. Individuals who are not only more susceptible To the illness, but who's lack of disposable income means that they will not have the same access to care as their more affluent peers. While the rich upper class flee to the countryside for fresh air and undisturbed restfulness, those of the lower classes will be condemned to the state sponsored sanitorium, locked away from their families. There, they will be left to waste away in large poorly kept dormitories and subjected to untested, experimental, often barbaric treatments with no basis in modern medicine.
Welcome, Weary Travelers
Sit down, put up your feet, and treat yourself to a pint.
Our resident bard will be taking the stage in just a moment...
Anyway - Welcome to Satire's Eulogy! Here, you can find musings about my current writing projects, rambling explanations of worldbuilding concepts for those projects, and story requests!
Currently, the only character I am taking requests for is Non-CC Wilbur Soot, as the general fanfinction interpretation of his character was the original inspiration for the male protagonist of my in progress book series and I need an excuse to do character studies. I may also add requests for 'OC' characters, i.e., characters from my series concept, when/if I introduce them here. This is, of course, subject to change.
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