Mana
04-23-2011, 01:56 PM
The Harrowing is, by far, the most relaxing Runeterran holiday. You may point out, “But L.B., you find people and their fickle traditions almost as odious as your obnoxious, sweater-clad neighbor; the one apparently afflicted by digestive dysfunction.” To you I say this: my neighbor, whose washroom practices cause the paint to peel on my side of the wall, could not, in his rankest moments, ever match the foulness with which I view people and society as a whole. He does try though.
Why, then, is this holiday the best?
Masks.
Not only do masks grant me a welcome reprieve from your eager, grinning faces, but they also help me disguise my insistent loathing in some more appropriate semblance of neutrality. Suppressing a scowl as determined as mine (let alone plastering a smile over it) is an exhaustive effort.
On the Harrowing we commemorate a time when both creepies and crawlies are at their creepiest and crawliest, and the world falls to the mercy of forces from the great beyond. This superstition is no doubt prompted by the fact that, on this day, Valoran is blanketed in darkness as the moon eclipses the sun. Naturally, to ward off the impending evil, we adorn ourselves in “light” or “dark” garments and drink pumpkin-spiced spirits. It is a well-documented fact that ghosts and ghouls fear orange vegetables almost as much as they fear silly outfits.
Admittedly, the light/dark costume parties are far more tolerable than their costume-less counterparts. People of opposite genders and costume colors can skip past the first twenty minutes of introductory drivel – inevitably the moments most likely to spoil what could otherwise be a pleasant night of irresponsibility – and be matched arbitrarily by fortune.
Where did this tradition start, though?
The Harrowing has been a recorded day of celebration for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. Fans of the Apocalypse claim that the world nearly ended in fire (or ice or kittens or what have you) when the moon eclipsed Valoran countless years ago. The historical texts which survived the Rune Wars only go so far, but they claim that costumes are worn either to support the forces of light/good or to confuse the forces of dark/evil. The many rituals which have cropped up surrounding the interactions of people dressed in opposing colors seem to be a more recent addition to the holiday, apparently symbolic of the reconciliation of some long-forgotten grudge.
Observance of the Harrowing differs greatly between the city-state-dwellers and the rural citizens of Valoran. In the city-states, most people gather to make merry and act foolish; in the country, some of the eldest sons still keep late watches, prepared to light signal fires to warn of impending danger.
Unfortunately, for all the hullabaloo there haven’t been any outbreaks of malevolent beings, no visits of nefarious apparitions, not so much as one documented creepy nor one captured crawlie. The world seems hopelessly saturated with people, and nothing has been sufficient to threaten that state. So, unburdened by worry, you may happily don your home-sewn Veigar cowl or your jury-rigged Heimer hairdo and take comfort in the fact that, if this day ever bore the portent of Armageddon, that time has long since past.
Wait, what’s that behind you?
Why, then, is this holiday the best?
Masks.
Not only do masks grant me a welcome reprieve from your eager, grinning faces, but they also help me disguise my insistent loathing in some more appropriate semblance of neutrality. Suppressing a scowl as determined as mine (let alone plastering a smile over it) is an exhaustive effort.
On the Harrowing we commemorate a time when both creepies and crawlies are at their creepiest and crawliest, and the world falls to the mercy of forces from the great beyond. This superstition is no doubt prompted by the fact that, on this day, Valoran is blanketed in darkness as the moon eclipses the sun. Naturally, to ward off the impending evil, we adorn ourselves in “light” or “dark” garments and drink pumpkin-spiced spirits. It is a well-documented fact that ghosts and ghouls fear orange vegetables almost as much as they fear silly outfits.
Admittedly, the light/dark costume parties are far more tolerable than their costume-less counterparts. People of opposite genders and costume colors can skip past the first twenty minutes of introductory drivel – inevitably the moments most likely to spoil what could otherwise be a pleasant night of irresponsibility – and be matched arbitrarily by fortune.
Where did this tradition start, though?
The Harrowing has been a recorded day of celebration for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. Fans of the Apocalypse claim that the world nearly ended in fire (or ice or kittens or what have you) when the moon eclipsed Valoran countless years ago. The historical texts which survived the Rune Wars only go so far, but they claim that costumes are worn either to support the forces of light/good or to confuse the forces of dark/evil. The many rituals which have cropped up surrounding the interactions of people dressed in opposing colors seem to be a more recent addition to the holiday, apparently symbolic of the reconciliation of some long-forgotten grudge.
Observance of the Harrowing differs greatly between the city-state-dwellers and the rural citizens of Valoran. In the city-states, most people gather to make merry and act foolish; in the country, some of the eldest sons still keep late watches, prepared to light signal fires to warn of impending danger.
Unfortunately, for all the hullabaloo there haven’t been any outbreaks of malevolent beings, no visits of nefarious apparitions, not so much as one documented creepy nor one captured crawlie. The world seems hopelessly saturated with people, and nothing has been sufficient to threaten that state. So, unburdened by worry, you may happily don your home-sewn Veigar cowl or your jury-rigged Heimer hairdo and take comfort in the fact that, if this day ever bore the portent of Armageddon, that time has long since past.
Wait, what’s that behind you?