conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: TheDarkDM: The chambers of the Grand Conclave had long stood as the pinnacle of prestige and power within the Shades.  As the beams of Lux-Glossia’s light had stretched out to touch the furthest reaches of the world, they had only grown more so, the ancient walls resonating with the voices of a dozen peoples, bound in unity to the ideals of the first Matriarchs.  It was a symbol of eternal stability, steadfast in the face of dissent and disaster, and it was only fitting that it serve as the location for this latest ascension.  But as with so much else in the wake of the kucen’s arrival in the Glossian Sea, the once-solid bedrock of the chambers seemed immediately more fragile.  The self-styled Endless Mistress had wasted no time in exercising some of the Grand Matriarch’s most ancillary powers, going farther than any of her successors would have dared in reshaping the chambers in her image.  Walls bearing ancient mosaics of Glossian history had been obscured by new, glistening crystal panels, their ingenious construction casting an image in light and shadow that followed the eye even as one swam through the chamber, surrounding visitors with visions of Taman as war leader victorious, ardent explorer, and embracing mother of those dozen peoples that once deceived themselves into thinking one day theirs would be the bloodline to lead all Shades.
  
  Floating lazily, flanked by a pair of Death Commando in their blood-red armor, Taman greeted each of the Shades’ Matriarchs as they swam in procession.  Certainly, the Shades were no strangers to the pomp and circumstance of ascendant power, but never before had the wizened leaders of the scattered empire shifted beneath such hungry, clear-sighted eyes.  The mirrored lenses of a siren made it impossible to tell exactly where Taman’s gaze fell as she surveyed her domain, but there was an edge even to the false dreams offered in their reflection.  Doubt and conspiracy hung heavy in the antechambers of the building, but at least in public even the most conservative Matriarch was all smiles.  So too Taman, never more so than when greeting dignitaries from far-flung lands who chose to attend.
  
  Hours yet of ceremony remained, beneath the glowing arches of the grand chambers, and despite their ancient words the tides of change had already begun to flow through Leriander.