Latest revision as of 16:44, 27 April 2014

Participants

• Amaterasu
• Jasna
• Sorum

Date

27/4/477

Log

Deep beneath an old manor, in the embrace of the earth, a chamber lies, dusted and polished to perfection. Eight lanterns lie in an octagon about a sarcophagus draped with a white cloth that serves as a makeshift altar, and the air is deathly still. Footsteps resound from the corridor outside, and one by one, white-robed beings file into the chamber, taking turns to remove their shoes and place them on the racks by the entrance before forming semicircles about the altar.

There are no words - everything is carried out with practiced ease, slow, orderly, and perfect in every detail. There is no disorder. All that is, perhaps, is the breathing of each cultist as they take up positions.

Amaterasu stood in the semi-circle, she was trembling a little. Maybe everyone had merit when they said that this Queen of Bones was no joke... they werent lying. Only now, standing amongst the others, shaking silently did she truely understand the seriousness which she had gotten herself into. This place, it didnt make her afraid... It didnt drive her insane... But it filled her with so much -Dread- she found it took all her willpower to put one foot in front of the other. She was here because they promised she could be cured... She was here because they promised power... That was the only thing keeping her on her feet, beneath the pure white robes that she replaced with her red ones. By this point, bowing out was inconcieveable. She needed this, and she was in too deep to quit now. She did take the time to glance about the circle? Maybe someone she knew would be there, allow her to relax, knowing she wasnt doing this alone.

Sorum slowly makes his way into the chamber, following the others example and removing his footware. His walrus moustache in fine shape, and his appearance quite dapper, he silently examines the room, trying to fall in line with those who know what they are doing, even attempting to fall in line with any breathing patterns if the chance provides itself. His eyes fall upon the rather frightened form of Amaterasu, who seems a little out of their element. He would comfort them but does not wish to break the silence, this was a gracious chance and he would not mess it up.

At last, when everything is ready, a large black bear steps through the cultists, taking up position behind the makeshift altar. Imposing in stature and figure alike, he surveys the cultists like a general inspecting the troops, then finally nods with something approaching approval.

"Lord Taltos?" a nearby cultist asks.

The bear nods, disrobing to reveal his armour beneath his outfit and handing the neatly folded clothes to the cultist. "All is in order. Let us begin the Ritual of Invocation."

As one, the cultists begin humming, a low, sepulchral tone that rings in the air, even as one by one, those amongst their number who have offerings to give step forward to place them on the altar - gifts of ivory, polished bone, mother-of-pearl, shell. There are not many of them, but what can one expect?

Sorum spends 8000 Crown to: Magnificent Pearls

Amaterasu shivered lightly, She assumed now would be the time. Stepping forward up to the altar, she produced with a trembling hand a bone, the size of a male femer, cleaned to perfection and removed of the gore. Gingerly she placed it upon the alter, her hands refusing to remain still. That done, the trembling girl simply backed off, not with haste, no that would show chaos in thos perfect world, she slowly backed off, shouting down her want to just run, run until she couldnt run anymore. By that time, she was back in line with the others, waiting for whatever hell she was jumping into.

Sorum examines the bear with interest, noting his armor and demeanor before he eyes the procession of gifts. He had read somewhere of the gifts enjoyed by this being, and he had come prepared. He moves forward upon his turn and produces a few sets of magnificent pearls, expensive, but a lovely sight. He sets them down upon the altar, before he takes a few steps backwards calmly and returns to his spot. Hopefully the gift is appreciated, but if not, he tried. Now things should prove to be more interesting.

The humming grows louder, the noise seeming to echo in upon itself until it is deafening - not to the ears, but within one's skull, one's mind. Dust swirls, rises from the floor and coalesces into two enormous skeletal forms - vaguely reptilian and formed from the remnants of several creatures - bone dragons, if one has been to Drytongue before. The usually savage creatures make no move to harm anyone present despite their sudden appearance, docilely lowering their heads before Lord Taltos.

"Pyrrha, Queen of Bones, Mistress of Death," Lord Taltos intones. "We are yours. you are ours. Call to me, and I will come. When I call, you will come. We humbly request your presence and guidance, if it so pleases you, Mistress."

At the bear's words, the echoing grows louder, more discordant. One by one, the offerings on the altar begin to age rapidly, yellowing and disintegrating to little more than dust in a matter of seconds, a pinpoint of light growing in the space between both skeletal dragons. With the wet, sucking sound that heralds a spirit's arrival from whatever place they hail from, a rend appears in the air, ivory light spilling forth from it, and a single skeletal hand appears, no bigger than a being's, clawing for purchase as the rest of the Old One's material form begins to follow.

Amaterasu watched the event with a horrid fascination, as much as she wanted to avert her eyes, she found she couldnt. Staring upon the Bone Mistress with a sense of magnificent awe and unspeakable horror, by this point only her willpower remained. Her body, long given up on trying to resist. There was a calm peace, like staring down the moment of your death, but she knew, beyond that peace, she would never remember this moment. She would never be able to look upon the Bone Queen and see her as she saw her on this day. And by whatever means the creators had, she hoped to every single one she wouldnt ever have to remember this day. Her trembling slowed to a near halt, but, in her hourglass eyes alive with fear, it wouldnt be hard to see the emotions that lie within. Then came the bone dragons, beings she didnt even know existed... She had seen so much since she came to Firmament, was it really that little?

Sorum tries to take the noise in stride, attempting to convince himself it is plesant to have ones mind jarred by sound, but he soon forgets this notion as bone dragaons appear before the group. Slightly uneased at first, as the don't seem to be making any hostile attempts on anyones life he loosens up. Bone dragons are quite powerful creatures, the power of this spirit is beginning to leave him in awe. As the offerings depart and vanish he fights a chuckle, how absolutely humorous. As Taltos ushers in a strange sucking sound, the newt stares into the light expectantly. This looks promising indeed.

"The dead are witness to this Invocation, those in the service of the Mistress who have been freed from the pain of life's tyranny with all its slings and arrows, freed wholly from the weakness of the flesh." Lord Taltos intones. "Those who have taken the final step of dedication and shed their old bodies for new ones. Come!" The rend widens, and ghostly forms step out of the walls, forming semicircles behind the altar that mirror the live cultists that stand before.

From a hand, to a shoulder, from a shoulder to a rib, from a rib to a pelvis...and soon enough, the Mistress of Bones steps out from thin air, the rend closing behind her with the same wet slurping sound. This day, she's taken the form of a rather enchantingly beautiful vixen - minus all the fur and flesh, of course, and the Old One takes a moment to allow each bone dragon to nuzzle into her hand before turning her attention to Taltos.

~My Favoured. What news do you have of this plane?~

"Nothing that is grievous, My Lady. There have been more disturbances at Mossy Stone of late - Kendrac's creatures attempt skirmishes from behind those walls they've built. Instead of throwing our energies at them, we have begun attacking their supply lines with considerable success. They will not survive on empty stomachs."

~Very good. And is there anything else?~

"Nothing more than the sundry. There are several initiates who wish to join our ranks. We would also like for your guidance for striking those of the Life Court at the heart of their power, instead of constantly playing the defensive."

~I will hear more of this later. Akros' failure is a lesson to us all. He has too big an ego, and is too disorganised, to meet with much success alone, yet it is true that the braggart has insidious methods that are only available to him. Send some of your number to the swamps as soon as you can.~

"I hear and obey, my lady."

~Then, there is but the matter of the initiates to be cleared before we can move on to other matters...~

Amaterasu shuddered, this was the moment she was both waiting for, and dreading. If she allowed herself to make a siund, she would have probably been whimpering by now. She didnt know what to do, her mind was drawing blanks. She blinked away a drop of sweat that fell into her eye, and she tried to shake the cold, clammy, feeling that overcame her. She watched the queen, then looked into the mirror, her ghost. It looked... Healthy. Well, healthier. She couldnt deteg a trace of her illness in the slit pupils of her mirror, That was her ideal. That was her goal! She was so close... What was the final step?!?

As the misress of bones emerges from her strange doorway accompanied by a host of strange spirits, Sorum cannot help but be amazed. This amazement doubles as the bone dragons nuzzle her, truely this is a being of legendary status if he has ever seen one. He does not speak, listening as talk of battle and a quarrel are presented to him, things he as a prior soldier can understand. He does not weigh on the issue, as it is not his call and he wishes to hear the wisdom of this powerful vixen. When the topic turns to him and the frantic fox he ensures he is as proper as can be, making a quick glance to the odd spirits before focusing entirely on Pyrrah.

Her conversation with her favoured done, the Mistress of Bones turns her hollow gaze on the gathered initiates, Amaterasu and Sorum amongst them. The Old One says nothing out loud, but it feels like She is having multiple private "conversations" simultaneously with each of them...

Amaterasu opened her mouth to speak. This was it, this was the end of the line. Yet, she found she could produce no words. Her voice wouldnt come. Looking from Pyrrah to her ghost she saw a glint of scorn, mockery. It was making fun of her! Mocking her frailty and sneering in contempt! The real Ama growled, her sheer force of will battering aside all attempts fear made to stop her. The ghost, seeing the change, then smiled, mirroring Ama's actions as she opened her mouth "I accept, my Queen. Your will shall be my own." She managed, the for.er fear gone from her voice as she stared down her ghost. Not even her own self will mock her resolve.

Sorum listens for a moment, a conversation he cannot place being presented to him before he straightens up and gives a nod. "Of this I accept." he says boldly, his resolve unchanged. He thinks for a moment and repeats what he has heard, as he has no better words for this occasion than mere acceptance. The newt gives a light bow of respect before he takes his position again and waits for the the proceedings.

~It would appear that all is in order,~ Pyrrha states, sitting on the altar with Her legs folded, leaning back with all the easy grace of a refined lady. ~We shall begin, then. Repeat after me:

~I bid you to refine.~

"I bid you to refine," the massed cultists chant.

~I offer you freedom from life's tyranny.~

"I offer you freedom from life's tyranny."

~You will liberate others from their mortal shackles, and teach them the glory of eternity.~

"You will liberate others from their mortal shackles, and teach them the glory of eternity."

There is a sensation of power, of power poised, of a dam holding back a deluge...

~Do you accept?~

Amaterasu doesnt hesitate, nodding her assent and giving her acceptance the same as she did before. Nothing would stop her resolve, she had reached her goal. with those last words spoken. She still hoped she wouldnt remember this night, but she would never forget the surge of power that she was so close to releasing.

Sorum repeats as instructed, ensuring no manner of accent or flaw overtakes the purity of the words. He notes the sensation, and then with a bit of a smile, he says with an absolute tone "Yes. I accept." He then awaits to see what power these words really have.

~Then it is completed. You are mine. I am yours. Call to me, and I will come. When I call, you will come. Such is the essence of the bargain.~

With the clicking of bones, the Queen of Death steps forward to each initiate - five in all - and plants with her bony muzzle a kiss on each one's forehead, sometimes having to stand on tiptoe to do so. Her touch chills each supplicant to the core, a wave of icy dread that washes over one's heart - and takes with it all pain, all suffering, all weakness, leaving behind little but a sense of peace and calm, the embrace of death.

The emotional change is marked by a physical one, too, as excess flesh melts away from the bodies of those claimed, leaving them skinny and finely carved - quite attractive, but in a very specific, and possibly disturbing way. One or two even have their fur instantly pale by a few shades, drawing closer to silver, or perhaps white, although this change appears to be not mandatory.

When She is done, she casually reaches down and snaps off femurs from Her physical form, the bones instantly regenerating to provide enough for all present. The cracking and snapping echoes throughout the ritual chamber, but it doesn't seem to bother Her at all. ~Your token. Secure it well.~

Amaterasu accepts the token with a gracious bow. I-it was gone... just... gone. She couldnt feel the scratching at her throat, or the burning in her chest. The feeling that she could break at the lightest touch. It was all gone. Tears burned at the back of her eyes but she held them back. Bowing deeply in thanks she held her token close to her breast. She knew of the perfect place to secure it, the one thing that never leaves her. She glanced around to the other initiates, smiling softly to herself. Yes, she was finally free from her curse.

Sorum smiles as the deal is struck. He is even awarded a kiss, from death, for his choice, emptying him of aches and, taking a grip on his body. His body is quite hairlss, besides his lip and the top of his head, so the color change is far from eventfull in regards to those with fur. He is awarded a piece of this remarkable being, which he secures as instructed and examines with an agreeable nod. Fine thing to have, quite a keepsake.

~It seems that we can move onto other things, then,~ Pyrrha mentions, almost offhandedly. ~Taltos, as always, make sure that these new ones are properly instructed in our ways, and how to suitably conduct themselves so they may remain hidden to do their work. Already, the loss of the one known as Jeremiah Fieldstone is keenly felt by us all. We look out for our own. Then, I need to have further discussion with you in a more private setting.~ The Old One looks out to her callers in front, to her pets beside her, and to her children at the rear, then smiles - or tries to do so, because it is hard without lips.

~You are all dismissed.~