Ascension of Lazal, The Omega to the Sect of Mystery

CamarisCamaris Member Posts: 7
[I called everyone to the altar of Mystery to perform the ritual, it is two parts, this is the first.]

A labyrinth of darkness etches quickly into being in an array of mindless patterns as the form of Vyir materializes from within.
 
Vyir inclines her head respectfully.

Mirai doffs her hat cordially at Vyir.

You bow respectfully to Vyir.

Water filters into the room as Bellentine moves gracefully in from the east.

The Woodsman, Ferriter Lorianis, Hide-and-seek Champion says to Adam, "You are fine relax a little."

Bellentine's crystal winks into existence, spinning rapidly.

Vyir says, "Knowledge to you all, friends. Both new and old."

Mirai leans comfortably against a claymore.

Nikola curtseys respectfully before Vyir.

Occasional raindrops fall on your head as the drizzle continues.

Ferriter tells you, "You want me to make ready to defend here?"

You say, "Never mind, just a bout of paranoia."

Vyir says, "I see."

The drizzle stops entirely, leaving only heavy cloud cover.

Vyir holds up the three pieces of scroll fragments within her hands, each flipping through her slender fingers as she speaks. The pieces of vellum all fuse at once, as they reach her palm.

A great weight seems to have been lifted from Ferriter.

Ferriter rubs some salve on his skin.

Vyir says, "I have at last found a way to unlock the secrets of the scroll fragments my servants have helped you seek. There is only one way to see if this ritual will truly grant me the power of the moons themselves, and that is by doing it."

Ferriter taps his quarterstaff against the ground and an animated hawthorn root entwines itself around his form, holding him to the ground.

Mirai's knuckles grow momentarily white as she strengthens her grip.

Vyir purses her lips contemplatively.

Mirai crosses her arms, standing firm and resolute.

Mirai nods her head.

Vyir says, "I shall, of course, require your involvement. And, attentiveness if this is to go without error."

The evening sun begins to cast long shadows across the darkening land.

You say to Vyir, "What must we do, my Lady?"

Vyir says, "You shall know when the time comes, I shall direct you."

You nod sagely.

Vyir seems to wait a moment in silence, looking at all assembled as if waiting for an objection.

Vyir says, "First, I must call an unnatural darkness across this place, so that our ritual may be blessed by the moon's many beams to grant me strength."

Vyir closes her eyes, yet the one remaining upon her forehead snaps open from its dormant closed position. The orb shifts and rolls up into its socket, revealing nothing but white as it twitches visibly.

Mirai nods her head.

The sky around you begins to fail in all light, fading from the colours of day, to twilight and all at once full darkness.

A great weight seems to have been lifted from Ferriter.

The sky of Aetherius hazily fades into an ombre of lavender as a velvety blackness settles across Lake Sodiuar, concealing all within in a perpetual state of night.

The deep red moon pulsates as it fades slowly into the clouds.
 
His eyes scanning the horizon, a village elder slowly wanders in from the south.
 
The high altar of Enigma glows, revealing the presence of the cryptids as they walk through it, their weak glow illuminating you and Vyir dimly.
 
A village elder whispers a short prayer and wanders off to the southeast.
 
Vyir reaches into the ether and pulls out the apparition of a cryptid.
 
Vyir reaches into the ether and pulls out a roguish cryptid.
 
Vyir reaches into the ether and pulls out a scholarly cryptid.
 
Vyir drops the apparition of a cryptid.
 
Vyir drops a roguish cryptid.
 
Vyir drops a scholarly cryptid.

The shifting form of Icsellom, Aspect of Moradeim enters from the north.
He is followed by a green songbird with black wings, a sketch of a Hunter, a sketch of a Renegade, and a sketch of a Runeguard.

The moons above subtly shift into a phase you have yet to have looked upon before, their orbits appearing equal within the night sky that has been cast over you.

Comprehension flashes across Icsellom's face.

Icsellom cradles a golden-stringed harp in the crook of his arm and begins to strum out a mournful melody.
Icsellom begins to chant softly, casting his voice and the music of his harp to the wind. His appearance begins to fade slightly.
 
The disappearance of Icsellom is preceded by a sharp crescendo of harp music.
He is followed by a green songbird with black wings, a sketch of a Hunter, a sketch of a Renegade, and a sketch of a Runeguard.
 
Icsellom tells you, "I saw something at the shore and came to investigate. I will not interrupt your cult."
 
The third eye of Vyir blinks, and once more returns to being closed. With a slight drop of her shoulders, the entity nods in satisfaction as she gazes to the sky.
 
You tell Icsellom Mjollnir, "You may bear witness, if you wish."
 
Icsellom tells you, "It is not my place."
 
Vyir glances down to the complete scroll, as if consulting it. Her lips curl, before nodding to herself.
 
Icsellom tells you, "I am not of your cult. And so I shall remain here."
 
Vyir says, "We must craft an item worthy of the Moons taking, if we are to be successful. It says here, that we require the staff of a Druid, the water of a lake, the song of renewal from the lips of a Bard, mage's fire, and the breath of a Divine."
 
You tell Icsellom Mjollnir, "Very well, brother."
 
Vyir purses her lips contemplatively.
 
The sky above you opens up some, leaving only partial cloud cover.
 
Curran enters from the north.
 
Aniyah curtseys respectfully before Vyir.
 
Cocking her head, Vyir says, "Who present here is a Druid?"
 
A great weight seems to have been lifted from Aniyah.
 
Aniyah rubs some salve on her skin.
 
Ferriter raises his hand.
 
Aniyah Mjollnir K'ethastarii, The Little Arrow says to Vyir, "I am."
 
Mirai peers about herself unscrupulously.
 
Vyir says to Ferriter, "Give me your staff, my friend."
 
A distant thunder is carried through the air and the sky briefly turns crimson.
 
Ferriter ceases to wield a woodsman's quarterstaff.
  
On the shore.
A vast stretch of white sand leads your eye down toward the water's edge where impatient ripples of water reach their azure fingers to reclaim the sand within its grasp. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. An altar contructed from lapis lazuli rests before the dark precipice of the water below, the immense shadow of its silhouette casting a harsh relief as it reaches toward the sky. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. A glowing clockwork crystal edged in brass hovers in the air, spinning rapidly. A pearl diver examines his surroundings curiously. A silver couatl is coiled here. A runic golem stands guard here. The haunting visage of the apparition of a cryptid twists in the unfamiliar faces of the condemned here. A roguish cryptid ambles here, collecting lost pearls along the shore. Nose-deep in a book of fishing wire and dried kelp, a scholarly cryptid sits here on the steps of the altar. Arcane Aspirant Adam is here. Bellentine Kith'Vahni Farrell is here, waves weaving in intricate patterns around her. She is holding a spinning clockwork shield of etched brass in her left hand. Vyir lingers here bathed in shadow, the gold within her form winking in the dimness. The Woodsman, Ferriter Lorianis, Hide-and-seek Champion is here, wrapped in a torrential cyclone. Curran Iavas Elf Maiden of Forest is here. She wields a sharpened quarterstaff in her hands. Mirai Xathclyde-Mjollnir is here. She wields a claymore in her hands.
You see exits leading north, east, southeast, and south.

Ferriter gives a woodsman's quarterstaff to Vyir.
 
Vyir places the staff carefully upon the sand, her hands smoothing over the grip of the blunt weapon as she murmurs under her breath.
 
Aniyah tells you, "Shall Curran and I be here?"
 
The shadows lengthen, daylight wanes, and the sun falls deeper to the horizon.

Vyir says, "And, now, water from the lake. One of you, collect it with your hands and pour the water on the staff."
 
Aniyah tells you, "Should rather."
 
You urge Adam onwards.
 
Vyir smiles softly, nodding at Adam.
 
Mirai ponders the situation.
 
Arcane Aspirant Adam says, "Oh. Uh..."
 
You say to Adam, "Go, youngling."
 
Adam gives you a nod of acknowledgement.

Adam swims smoothly to the east.
 
Curran leaves to the north.
 
Adam smoothly swims in from the east.
 
Vyir quirks a faint smile, her eyes wavering in the dark light.
 
A soft light radiates from Mirai as she flaps her wings lightly, allowing her to hover just above the ground.
 
Adam returns from the east, hastily walking towards the staff with water cupped in his hands.
 
Adam quietly allows the water to run from his hands onto the staff.
 
The water seeps into the sand around the staff, the granules darkening visibly.
 
You tell Aniyah Mjollnir K'ethastarii, The Little Arrow, "You can, if you like."
 
His eyes scanning the horizon, a village elder slowly wanders in from the southeast.
 
Glancing down at the scroll, Vyir says, "Now, the song of renewal from a Bard. Bend to the staff, and call forth growth from it."
 
Vyir turns the scroll at a slight angle, her eyes turning upwards to the heavens. The third eye upon her brow is focused upon the staff and newly spilled water upon the ground.
 
A village elder whispers a short prayer and wanders off to the north.
The night's darkness is held at bay by the soft glow of the triple moons.
 
You urge Mirai onwards.
 
His eyes scanning the horizon, a village elder slowly wanders in from the north.
 
You say to Mirai, "Go on, you are Bard."
 
A village elder whispers a short prayer and wanders off to the north.
 
Mirai Xathclyde-Mjollnir says, "No I'm not."

Mirai blinks.
 
Mirai pats a shimmering suit of full plate armour in a friendly manner.
 
You say to Mirai, "You may bear the sword instead of the harp, but you ARE a Bard."
 
You give a mischievous grin.
 
Mirai Xathclyde-Mjollnir says, "As are you."
 
You nod your head.
 
You say, "Then I shall, if you wish....."
 
A thick, wet mist twists slowly all around you, the moonlight drifting eerily through to rest upon the high altar.
 
His eyes scanning the horizon, a village elder slowly wanders in from the south.
 
A dark shadow creeping across its face, the blood red moon of Terror forces the stars around it to dull themselves.
 
A village elder whispers a short prayer and wanders off to the southeast.
 
The cloud cover clears, revealing the sparkling night sky.

You have emoted: Camaris bends down to the staff, and closing his eyes, sings the song of growth to the staff, his rich baritone echoing across the waters.

As Camaris casts their voice across the staff, it begins to vibrate softly, the sand around it seeping up of its own accord onto the wooden surface and completely concealing it.

The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
 
The glow of the moons grows stronger through the veil of night, falling across all in its purview.
 
Stars fill the firmament, illuminating the evening sky with a pale light.
 
Vyir says, "Mage's fire. Direct it to what has already been done, if you will."
 
You nod sagely at Bellentine.
 
Bellentine nods a little. Flexing her fingers her hand bursts to vibrant, flaming life. She points to the gathered assortment, crimson tendrils racing down and about.
 
His eyes scanning the horizon, a village elder slowly wanders in from the south.
 
The fire curls around the staff, sand and water, heady smoke rising across it as a glass-like substance takes the place of what was once all of the items combined.
 
A particularly large wave throws sprinkles of water at your feet.
 
Vyir says, "Well done.."
 
You nod your head.
 
Vyir says, "And now..the breath of a Divine or immortal."
 
Vyir lowers to one knee, her hands cupping gently about her mouth as she takes in one long breath and exhales over the surface of the glass.
 
The cryptids all stagger and shift in position nervously, gazing at the scene as they huddle closer to other members gathered.
 
The last of the staff disappears as the breath of the entity wavers across it, granules of sand washing along it to reveal its transformation into an old sword with a clear blade.
 
The weapon shifts from the ground, the hilt meeting Vyirs open palm as she grasps it.
 
Vyir begins to wield a curved sabre in her left hand.
 
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.

Within the dark expanse of night, a singular star shines with pale blue incandescence towards the east. This grandiose beacon outshines the surrounding points of light.
 
Vyir gestures with the hilt of the blade, the moonlight shining through it in a subtle flash.
 
Vyir says, "Now, I must take our creation and use the altar to channel the moons energy. If I am successful, it shall not reject it."
 
Mirai nods her head.
 
Vyir purses her lips contemplatively.
 
Vyir ascends the steps of the altar, her body turned to the side so that all can see the sword within her hands.
 
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
 
The moonlight reflects through the weapon, each hue of scarlet, emerald and white-blue darkening the blade. The variance of the moons orbiting faster through their phases in response.
 
A village elder whispers a short prayer and wanders off to the south.
 
You have emoted: Camaris steels himself for the scene, his eyes intent on witnessing what is going to take place.
 
Vyir waves the weapon in the air one last time, and slams the blade downwards with a weighted strike.
 
Mirai locks her gaze upon the altar, a hushed quick string of the Elan language escaping her.

An expression of surprise crosses the face of Vyir as the cube violently swivels upwards above her, just as the strange blade and hilt of the weapon cracks the dais.
 
Vyir exclaims, "No...No...This cannot be!"

Midnight tolls and a new day comes to the land.
It is the 17th day of Solis, in the year 47 AM.
 
The cube begins to rapidly expand, its varying parts and metals parting to reveal its puzzle pieces swelling to encompass Vyir in a cage of light. She begins to scramble this way and that as the cube begins to spin rapidly, attempting to escape the maze-like prison.
 
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
 
Mirai blinks.
 
One of her hands stretches out to reach for safety, but the inevitable spinning of the cube makes it impossible to undo what has been done.
 
Bellentine stiffens.
 
Mirai peers about herself unscrupulously.
 
Ferriter gives a horrified gasp.
 
Moving with ease and care through the darkened sky, the moon of Life glows brightly.
 
The water suddenly laps up to touch your feet.
 
You have emoted: Camaris begins to take a step towards the Cube, but is unable to go any further.
 
The moons orbit dangerously close to one another, their positions in the sky appearing to brush one another as a combined beam of obsidian light strikes suddenly across the rapidly circling cube.

Mirai Xathclyde-Mjollnir says, "Hold fast.."
 
A harsh, blood curdling scream rattles from within as the obsidian hues snake across the metallic vision of the cube, the form of the entity visibly lifted as the warped diachaim melts over her form.
 
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
 
The familiar third eye of the entity flies from the contents of the cube, smacking with a wet sound against the sand some distance away.
 
Stars fill the firmament, illuminating the evening sky with a pale light.
 
His eyes scanning the horizon, a village elder slowly wanders in from the south.

Bellentine blinks.
 
A village elder whispers a short prayer and wanders off to the southeast.
 
Mirai ponders the situation.
 
The night sky is clear, and the stars twinkle like diamonds.
 
Adam quickly conjures up a reflection of himself for protection as he steps closer to the altar, trying to examine the effects of the ritual.
 
You say, "That.....was not what was expected."
 
The scream is cut off as the sound of shattering stone pulses across the area, the cube beginning to slow in its inner and outer spinning.
 
Mirai Xathclyde-Mjollnir says, "It's not quite over."

A sulphurous stench fills the air momentarily.
 
A smattering of clouds fills the sky, lacing it with spiderwebs of grey.
 
The cube unwinds in a whirl of broken diachaim as steam rises from a bent figure within the nearly seen center of the mechanism. The cracked dais shudders and splinters further, as the whole of the high altar begins to shake violently as if the energy was incompatible with the stone.
 
The tall figure rises from the dais as the last parts of the cube part, her bare feet touching the dais tentatively. Finding confidence in her footing, she strides towards the ledge of the highest step of the altar, her gaze to the heavens.
 
A prism of dawn-hued light fractures from the heavenly bodies of the moons, banishing all darkness over Aetherius as Lazal, the Omega becomes known to all.
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