Festival of Halina (Orsal Judging)
- Thread starter Bront
- Start date
Rystil Arden
First Post
(OOC: Sysiphus...Sysiphus with the boulder. Here, read this SBLOCK:
[SBLOCK]
ìIn his prosperity a grandson first [the hunter Aktaion] was source of Cadmusí sorrow, whose young brow sprouted outlandish antlers and the hounds, his hounds, were sated with their masterís blood. Though, if you ponder wisely, you will find the fault was fortuneís and no guilt that day, for what guilt can it be to lose oneís way? Upon a mountainside, whose woodland coverts were stained with many a kill of varied game, the shining noon had narrowed all the shade and midway at his zenith stood the sun. Then young Hyantius [Aktaion] was content; he called his comrades as they roamed the lonely woods: ëCome friends, our nets are wet, our javelins drip with our quarries blood; today has brought success enough; tomorrow, when Aurora [Eos the Dawn] on saffron wheels leads on another day, weíll start our work again; now Phoebus [Helios the Sun] shines half-way upon his journey and his rays crack the parched countryside. Take up your nets; here let us end the work in hand.í The men obeyed his words and rested from their toil. There was a valley clothed in hanging woods of pine and cypress, named Gargaphie, sacred to chaste Diana [Artemis], huntress queen. Deep in its farthest combe, framed by the woods, a cave lay hid, not fashioned by manís art, but natureís talent copied artistry, for in the living limestone she had carved a natural arch; and there a limpid spring flowed lightly babbling into a wide pool. Its waters girdled with a grassy sward. Here, tired after the hunt, the goddess loved her Nymphae to bathe her with the waterís balm. Reaching the cave, she gave her spear and quiver and bow unstrung to an attendant Nympha; others received her robes over their arms; two loosed her sandals; more expert than these Crocale tied the hair loose on her shoulders into a knot, her own hair falling free. Then Nephele and Hyale and Rhanis and Phiale and Psecas brought the water in brimming jars and poured it over her. And while Titania [Artemis] bathed there in the pool, her loved familiar pool, it chanced the grandson of Cadmus [Aktaion], the dayís hunt finished, idly wandering through unknown clearings of the forest, found the sacred grove ñ so fate guided him ñ and came upon the cool damp cave. At once, seeing a man, all naked as they were, the Nymphae, beating their breasts, filled the whole grove with sudden screams and clustered round Diana [Artemis] to clothe her body with their own. But she stood taller, a head taller than them all; and as the clouds are coloured when the sun glows late and low or like the crimson dawn, so deeply blushed Diana [Artemis], caught unclothed. Her troop pressed close about her, but she turned aside and looking backwards (would she had her arrows ready!) all she had, the water, she seized and flung it in the young manís face, and as the avenging downpour drenched his hair she added words that warned of doom: ëNow tell you saw me here naked without my clothes, if you can tell at all!í With that one threat antlers she raised upon his dripping head, lengthened his neck, pointed his ears, transformed his hands to hooves, arms to long legs, and draped his body with a dappled hide; and last set terror in his heart. Autoreis [Aktaion] fled, royal Actaeon, and marvelled in his flight at his new leaping speed, but, when she saw his head and antlers mirrored in a stream, he tries to say ëAlas!í ñ but no words came; he groaned ñ that was his voice; the tears rolled down on cheeks not his ñ all changed except his mind. What should he do? Go home, back to the palace, or stay in hiding in the forest? Shame forbade the first decision, fear the other. While thus he stood in doubt his hounds had seen him. Melampus (Blackfoot) and Ichnobates (Tracker) first gave tongue, wise Ichnobates Cnosius (Tracker a Cretan hound), Melampus (Blackfoot) of Spartan breed; swift as the wind the rest came rushing on: Dorceus (Glance), Pamphagos (Glutton), Oribasos (Ranger) (all from Arcady), fierce Nebrophonos (Rover), sturdy Theron (Stalker), moody Laelaps (Storm), Pterelas (Flight) unsurpassed for speed, Agre (Hunter) for scent, bold Hylaeus (Woodman) lately wounded by a boar, Nape (Dingle) a slender bitch sired by a wolf, Poemenis (Snatch) with two pups, gaunt Harpyia Sicyonius (Catch from Sicyon), and Ladon (Shepherd), once a guardian of her flock; Dromas (Spot), Canache (Gnasher), Tigris (Tigress), Sticte (Courser), Alce (Strong), dark-coated Asbolos (Sooty), Leucon (Blanche) with snowy hair, Lycisce (Wolf) and his nimble brother Cyprius (Cyprian), huge stalwart Lacon (Spartan), Aello (Tempest) never tired; Thoos (Clinch), his dark forehead crowned with a white star, Melaneus (Blackie); rough-coated Harpalos (Shag); a couple of hounds born of a Cretan sire and Spartan dam, Labros (Fury) and Argiodus (Whitetooth); Hylactor (Barker), noisy bitch; and many more too long to tell. The pack, hot in pursuit, sped on over fells and crags, by walls of rock, on daunting trails or none he fled where often heíd followed in pursuit, fled his own folk, for shame! He longed to shout ëI am Actaeon, look, I am your master!í Words failed his will; their baying filled the sky. Melanchaetes (Blackhair) bit first, a wound deep in his haunch; next Theridamas (Killer); Oresitrophus (Climber) fastened on his shoulder. These started late but cut across the hills and gained a lead. They held their master down till the whole pack, united, sank their teeth into his flesh. He gave a wailing scream, not human, yet a sound no stag could voice, and filled with anguished cries the mountainside he knew so well; then, suppliant on his knees, turned his head silently from side to side, like arms that turned and pleaded. But his friends with their glad usual shouts cheered on the pack. Not knowing what they did, and looked around to find Actaeon; each louder than the rest calling Actaeon, as though he were not there; and blamed his absence and his sloth that missed the excitement of the kill. Hearing his name, he turned his head. Would that he were indeed absent! But he was there. Would that he watched, not felt, the houndsí(his houndsí) fierce savagery! Now they are all around him, tearing deep their masterís flesh, the stag that is no stag; and not until so many countless wounds had drained away his lifeblood, was the wrath, itís said, of chaste Diana [Artemis] satisfied. As the tale spread views varied; some believed Dianaís violence unjust; some praised it, as proper to her chaste virginity. Both sides found reason for their point of view.î ñMetamorphoses 3.138
[/SBLOCK]
Now you know more, thanks to our friend Ovid, the Roman guy who wrote down some stuff, once.
)
[SBLOCK]
ìIn his prosperity a grandson first [the hunter Aktaion] was source of Cadmusí sorrow, whose young brow sprouted outlandish antlers and the hounds, his hounds, were sated with their masterís blood. Though, if you ponder wisely, you will find the fault was fortuneís and no guilt that day, for what guilt can it be to lose oneís way? Upon a mountainside, whose woodland coverts were stained with many a kill of varied game, the shining noon had narrowed all the shade and midway at his zenith stood the sun. Then young Hyantius [Aktaion] was content; he called his comrades as they roamed the lonely woods: ëCome friends, our nets are wet, our javelins drip with our quarries blood; today has brought success enough; tomorrow, when Aurora [Eos the Dawn] on saffron wheels leads on another day, weíll start our work again; now Phoebus [Helios the Sun] shines half-way upon his journey and his rays crack the parched countryside. Take up your nets; here let us end the work in hand.í The men obeyed his words and rested from their toil. There was a valley clothed in hanging woods of pine and cypress, named Gargaphie, sacred to chaste Diana [Artemis], huntress queen. Deep in its farthest combe, framed by the woods, a cave lay hid, not fashioned by manís art, but natureís talent copied artistry, for in the living limestone she had carved a natural arch; and there a limpid spring flowed lightly babbling into a wide pool. Its waters girdled with a grassy sward. Here, tired after the hunt, the goddess loved her Nymphae to bathe her with the waterís balm. Reaching the cave, she gave her spear and quiver and bow unstrung to an attendant Nympha; others received her robes over their arms; two loosed her sandals; more expert than these Crocale tied the hair loose on her shoulders into a knot, her own hair falling free. Then Nephele and Hyale and Rhanis and Phiale and Psecas brought the water in brimming jars and poured it over her. And while Titania [Artemis] bathed there in the pool, her loved familiar pool, it chanced the grandson of Cadmus [Aktaion], the dayís hunt finished, idly wandering through unknown clearings of the forest, found the sacred grove ñ so fate guided him ñ and came upon the cool damp cave. At once, seeing a man, all naked as they were, the Nymphae, beating their breasts, filled the whole grove with sudden screams and clustered round Diana [Artemis] to clothe her body with their own. But she stood taller, a head taller than them all; and as the clouds are coloured when the sun glows late and low or like the crimson dawn, so deeply blushed Diana [Artemis], caught unclothed. Her troop pressed close about her, but she turned aside and looking backwards (would she had her arrows ready!) all she had, the water, she seized and flung it in the young manís face, and as the avenging downpour drenched his hair she added words that warned of doom: ëNow tell you saw me here naked without my clothes, if you can tell at all!í With that one threat antlers she raised upon his dripping head, lengthened his neck, pointed his ears, transformed his hands to hooves, arms to long legs, and draped his body with a dappled hide; and last set terror in his heart. Autoreis [Aktaion] fled, royal Actaeon, and marvelled in his flight at his new leaping speed, but, when she saw his head and antlers mirrored in a stream, he tries to say ëAlas!í ñ but no words came; he groaned ñ that was his voice; the tears rolled down on cheeks not his ñ all changed except his mind. What should he do? Go home, back to the palace, or stay in hiding in the forest? Shame forbade the first decision, fear the other. While thus he stood in doubt his hounds had seen him. Melampus (Blackfoot) and Ichnobates (Tracker) first gave tongue, wise Ichnobates Cnosius (Tracker a Cretan hound), Melampus (Blackfoot) of Spartan breed; swift as the wind the rest came rushing on: Dorceus (Glance), Pamphagos (Glutton), Oribasos (Ranger) (all from Arcady), fierce Nebrophonos (Rover), sturdy Theron (Stalker), moody Laelaps (Storm), Pterelas (Flight) unsurpassed for speed, Agre (Hunter) for scent, bold Hylaeus (Woodman) lately wounded by a boar, Nape (Dingle) a slender bitch sired by a wolf, Poemenis (Snatch) with two pups, gaunt Harpyia Sicyonius (Catch from Sicyon), and Ladon (Shepherd), once a guardian of her flock; Dromas (Spot), Canache (Gnasher), Tigris (Tigress), Sticte (Courser), Alce (Strong), dark-coated Asbolos (Sooty), Leucon (Blanche) with snowy hair, Lycisce (Wolf) and his nimble brother Cyprius (Cyprian), huge stalwart Lacon (Spartan), Aello (Tempest) never tired; Thoos (Clinch), his dark forehead crowned with a white star, Melaneus (Blackie); rough-coated Harpalos (Shag); a couple of hounds born of a Cretan sire and Spartan dam, Labros (Fury) and Argiodus (Whitetooth); Hylactor (Barker), noisy bitch; and many more too long to tell. The pack, hot in pursuit, sped on over fells and crags, by walls of rock, on daunting trails or none he fled where often heíd followed in pursuit, fled his own folk, for shame! He longed to shout ëI am Actaeon, look, I am your master!í Words failed his will; their baying filled the sky. Melanchaetes (Blackhair) bit first, a wound deep in his haunch; next Theridamas (Killer); Oresitrophus (Climber) fastened on his shoulder. These started late but cut across the hills and gained a lead. They held their master down till the whole pack, united, sank their teeth into his flesh. He gave a wailing scream, not human, yet a sound no stag could voice, and filled with anguished cries the mountainside he knew so well; then, suppliant on his knees, turned his head silently from side to side, like arms that turned and pleaded. But his friends with their glad usual shouts cheered on the pack. Not knowing what they did, and looked around to find Actaeon; each louder than the rest calling Actaeon, as though he were not there; and blamed his absence and his sloth that missed the excitement of the kill. Hearing his name, he turned his head. Would that he were indeed absent! But he was there. Would that he watched, not felt, the houndsí(his houndsí) fierce savagery! Now they are all around him, tearing deep their masterís flesh, the stag that is no stag; and not until so many countless wounds had drained away his lifeblood, was the wrath, itís said, of chaste Diana [Artemis] satisfied. As the tale spread views varied; some believed Dianaís violence unjust; some praised it, as proper to her chaste virginity. Both sides found reason for their point of view.î ñMetamorphoses 3.138
[/SBLOCK]
Now you know more, thanks to our friend Ovid, the Roman guy who wrote down some stuff, once.
)LogicsFate
First Post
Rystil Arden said:
No, I'll be fine. If I decide to pay that much it will be from all of my gold. But 100 gold is alot, O well, I'll decide later. Is there anything you'd like to look for?
LogicsFate
First Post
Rystil Arden said:
OOC: Ow
Rystil Arden
First Post
(OOC: Dare ye presume a hasty generalisation? Fie! The wrath of Zeus shall smite the unbelievers from on high with his mighty lightning bolt (forged by Brontes, Steropes, and Arges, the elder Kyklopes (= Cyclopes) )Bront said:OOC: 1 of 1 doesn't count
Rystil Arden
First Post
"Hmmm...not really--I guess I'm just along for the ride!" Lasair exults, "Frankly...anything that I would cherish I doubt they would have here or even give to me if they did have it."LogicsFate said:
Rystil Arden
First Post
(OOC: Brontes means thunder in ancient Greek--which is the same reason Brontosaurus means "thunder-lizard")Bront said:OOC: You never said I wasn't rightBrontes huh? I wonder if people think I got my name from that?
LogicsFate
First Post
Rystil Arden said:(OOC: Sysiphus...Sysiphus with the boulder. Here, read this SBLOCK:
[SBLOCK]
ìIn his prosperity a grandson first [the hunter Aktaion] was source of Cadmusí sorrow, whose young brow sprouted outlandish antlers and the hounds, his hounds, were sated with their masterís blood. Though, if you ponder wisely, you will find the fault was fortuneís and no guilt that day, for what guilt can it be to lose oneís way? Upon a mountainside, whose woodland coverts were stained with many a kill of varied game, the shining noon had narrowed all the shade and midway at his zenith stood the sun. Then young Hyantius [Aktaion] was content; he called his comrades as they roamed the lonely woods: ëCome friends, our nets are wet, our javelins drip with our quarries blood; today has brought success enough; tomorrow, when Aurora [Eos the Dawn] on saffron wheels leads on another day, weíll start our work again; now Phoebus [Helios the Sun] shines half-way upon his journey and his rays crack the parched countryside. Take up your nets; here let us end the work in hand.í The men obeyed his words and rested from their toil. There was a valley clothed in hanging woods of pine and cypress, named Gargaphie, sacred to chaste Diana [Artemis], huntress queen. Deep in its farthest combe, framed by the woods, a cave lay hid, not fashioned by manís art, but natureís talent copied artistry, for in the living limestone she had carved a natural arch; and there a limpid spring flowed lightly babbling into a wide pool. Its waters girdled with a grassy sward. Here, tired after the hunt, the goddess loved her Nymphae to bathe her with the waterís balm. Reaching the cave, she gave her spear and quiver and bow unstrung to an attendant Nympha; others received her robes over their arms; two loosed her sandals; more expert than these Crocale tied the hair loose on her shoulders into a knot, her own hair falling free. Then Nephele and Hyale and Rhanis and Phiale and Psecas brought the water in brimming jars and poured it over her. And while Titania [Artemis] bathed there in the pool, her loved familiar pool, it chanced the grandson of Cadmus [Aktaion], the dayís hunt finished, idly wandering through unknown clearings of the forest, found the sacred grove ñ so fate guided him ñ and came upon the cool damp cave. At once, seeing a man, all naked as they were, the Nymphae, beating their breasts, filled the whole grove with sudden screams and clustered round Diana [Artemis] to clothe her body with their own. But she stood taller, a head taller than them all; and as the clouds are coloured when the sun glows late and low or like the crimson dawn, so deeply blushed Diana [Artemis], caught unclothed. Her troop pressed close about her, but she turned aside and looking backwards (would she had her arrows ready!) all she had, the water, she seized and flung it in the young manís face, and as the avenging downpour drenched his hair she added words that warned of doom: ëNow tell you saw me here naked without my clothes, if you can tell at all!í With that one threat antlers she raised upon his dripping head, lengthened his neck, pointed his ears, transformed his hands to hooves, arms to long legs, and draped his body with a dappled hide; and last set terror in his heart. Autoreis [Aktaion] fled, royal Actaeon, and marvelled in his flight at his new leaping speed, but, when she saw his head and antlers mirrored in a stream, he tries to say ëAlas!í ñ but no words came; he groaned ñ that was his voice; the tears rolled down on cheeks not his ñ all changed except his mind. What should he do? Go home, back to the palace, or stay in hiding in the forest? Shame forbade the first decision, fear the other. While thus he stood in doubt his hounds had seen him. Melampus (Blackfoot) and Ichnobates (Tracker) first gave tongue, wise Ichnobates Cnosius (Tracker a Cretan hound), Melampus (Blackfoot) of Spartan breed; swift as the wind the rest came rushing on: Dorceus (Glance), Pamphagos (Glutton), Oribasos (Ranger) (all from Arcady), fierce Nebrophonos (Rover), sturdy Theron (Stalker), moody Laelaps (Storm), Pterelas (Flight) unsurpassed for speed, Agre (Hunter) for scent, bold Hylaeus (Woodman) lately wounded by a boar, Nape (Dingle) a slender bitch sired by a wolf, Poemenis (Snatch) with two pups, gaunt Harpyia Sicyonius (Catch from Sicyon), and Ladon (Shepherd), once a guardian of her flock; Dromas (Spot), Canache (Gnasher), Tigris (Tigress), Sticte (Courser), Alce (Strong), dark-coated Asbolos (Sooty), Leucon (Blanche) with snowy hair, Lycisce (Wolf) and his nimble brother Cyprius (Cyprian), huge stalwart Lacon (Spartan), Aello (Tempest) never tired; Thoos (Clinch), his dark forehead crowned with a white star, Melaneus (Blackie); rough-coated Harpalos (Shag); a couple of hounds born of a Cretan sire and Spartan dam, Labros (Fury) and Argiodus (Whitetooth); Hylactor (Barker), noisy bitch; and many more too long to tell. The pack, hot in pursuit, sped on over fells and crags, by walls of rock, on daunting trails or none he fled where often heíd followed in pursuit, fled his own folk, for shame! He longed to shout ëI am Actaeon, look, I am your master!í Words failed his will; their baying filled the sky. Melanchaetes (Blackhair) bit first, a wound deep in his haunch; next Theridamas (Killer); Oresitrophus (Climber) fastened on his shoulder. These started late but cut across the hills and gained a lead. They held their master down till the whole pack, united, sank their teeth into his flesh. He gave a wailing scream, not human, yet a sound no stag could voice, and filled with anguished cries the mountainside he knew so well; then, suppliant on his knees, turned his head silently from side to side, like arms that turned and pleaded. But his friends with their glad usual shouts cheered on the pack. Not knowing what they did, and looked around to find Actaeon; each louder than the rest calling Actaeon, as though he were not there; and blamed his absence and his sloth that missed the excitement of the kill. Hearing his name, he turned his head. Would that he were indeed absent! But he was there. Would that he watched, not felt, the houndsí(his houndsí) fierce savagery! Now they are all around him, tearing deep their masterís flesh, the stag that is no stag; and not until so many countless wounds had drained away his lifeblood, was the wrath, itís said, of chaste Diana [Artemis] satisfied. As the tale spread views varied; some believed Dianaís violence unjust; some praised it, as proper to her chaste virginity. Both sides found reason for their point of view.î ñMetamorphoses 3.138
[/SBLOCK]
Now you know more, thanks to our friend Ovid, the Roman guy who wrote down some stuff, once.
OOC: Hey! I know that story, just with less nudity(popularized)
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