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Post by jarahamee on Oct 28, 2022 1:13:36 GMT -6
The crow calls again, it says;
"Harvest's goddess will rise in moments, and when she does, it will be without mercy." Una leapt to Vincent’s defense, attempting to leap on top of him and bite what she could. The corpse moved, and though her teeth made contact, they slid off his robed arm, tearing some of the rotting fabric with a loud ‘ripppp’ sound. The king in turn, moved his sword in a swift arc, cutting into Una’s side. Like the mummy, he appeared to be able to see without eyes, and reacted quickly. As he turned his attention to her, his head followed. A body like this could not breathe, but the sides heaved as if he was alive and taking breaths. Perhaps it was reflex, or maybe, a trick of the candlelight. Una is now Wounded. The eye lights flickered in his skull; “Fools… Then you choose your own death.” John rushed to attack the King, aiming for a leg. While his teeth connected with whatever was under the robe, instead of tearing tender flesh, he bit into thick, rotten leather, tearing off a piece. The King’s step towards Una stumbled, and the turn of his sword strike missed John, sending a rush of air through his fur. Meanwhile, Ash and August help the mummy apply the balm, as Vincent moves to defend them. The application of the balm appears complete. The mummy removes its death mask while it applies the oil to its face. Una appeared to have been right; the mummy had no visible eyes to speak of, or even any face. The entire face appeared to have been securely wrapped about beneath its mask; no wonder it could not speak. The mummy turns to August, Ash and Vincent, and hold both hands, palm together, in front of itself, before pressing them to its forehead and inclining its head. It does this once for each of them, then taps its chest once. It then picks up the candle from the floor, and dances, moving its limbs in careful folding motions as it enacts the ritual. At last, when its dance is complete, it claps its hands together twice, and then takes the flame and spreads it over its now treated body quickly. The mummy moves itself into a position as the others did, holding its hands together in prayer with the candle between them, and inclining its face towards its Goddess while kneeling. It appears the dry nature of the mummy’s body makes it very flammable. The room fills with sweet, spiced smoke, and the visibility decreases immensely. As those who are gathered watch, four ghostly figures stand where the wooden effigies, and the mummy had stood, faintly visible at first, then increasingly brilliant and solid at once as the smoke gathered into them, filling in their details, replacing the emptiness. The mummy’s body was gone; only a small amount of ash remained where it had stood, instead replaced by the incandescent figure of a serious-looking robed man, carrying a staff which radiates yet more light from the gem at its end. His greyish eyes regard all of them, and he looks like he wants to address August, Ash and Vincent, but instead turns to the Goddess, and begins to chant, kneeling. There is an odd synchrony to the movement of the spirits. The King finds himself staring at the ghostly figure of a large and powerful armored man, who appears to be carrying a large sword in place of the dagger he had carried before. The tall man opens his mouth, as if to curse the King, but instead his voice joins the chant, tearing his ephemeral eyes away from the corpse and back to his Goddess. He kneels. The small but powerful-looking armored woman behind him also kneels in repose, though she gives the King a hateful gaze first, closing her eyes to chant. Last, the most beautiful figure, at position F, kneels and joins the chant. Their voices are unnaturally powerful, and the feeling of pressure increases. Light from all gathered forms a ring around them, and the goddess in an arc. Leopold, in his now restored form, gestures towards the altar (B), without moving head or body from his praying position, still muttering his chant. He is likely suggesting the others also join in prayer, or perhaps just gather there to complete the circle. The bell tolls again. The King swings at what should have been the body of the armored man, but his sword simply passes through it. He cries out in frustration and anger, and then turns to John, preparing to attack him again.
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Post by indeath on Oct 28, 2022 3:48:32 GMT -6
((August takes the position indicated by Leopold. Keeps an eye on the king.))
August couldn’t help but tear up as Leo bowed before them . It took all his will power not to try to stop him. Instead he returned the gesture. This was what he clearly wanted but it still tore at August’s heart. He smiled when the robbed man appeared. It was good to see his true form, he looked wise which was no surprise to August. If you could hug a ghost, he would have.
“Thank you, Leo. For all ya help…”
He went to the position indicated by Leopold and put his hands in prayer. He didn’t know the words though. Hopefully standing there was enough. He kept a wary eye on the corpse of the king. August didn’t like the fellow one iota, so much so it wouldn’t be so bad if he met a grisly death. The man had let everyone around him die. He drank Orla’s wine while she was killed by the manticore. He had hurt Una and Vince.
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 28, 2022 16:54:19 GMT -6
[OOC: John squiggles away from the King trying to murder him and leaps into the circle.]
It seemed all the requisite pieces were in place. Not a moment too soon, either. John didn't particularly wish to lose his head today. Especially not at the final hurdle.
The fox growled at the King when he let out a frustrated yell, before darting towards the alter (B) and the light formed in a ring. It was quite clear by now that he couldn't harm the large undead creature, so with discretion being the better part of valour, the Kumiho beat a hasty retreat.
Hopefully this ritual would complete before everyone gathered was smashed into sword paste.
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 28, 2022 19:24:27 GMT -6
[ Ash goes with August to the altar to complete the circle. ]
Ash stepped back when they finished putting the balm on the mummy, moving to watch. He flinched a little when it clapped, and again when the flames licked up over its body and consumed it. He hoped thy had done the right thing - it had seemed to be what the mummy wanted, after all.
The light changed, the smoke coalescing into forms on each of the effigies. He squinted a little as the mummy's ashes were replaced by a human man, transparent and ghostly thoughhe was. "That's... That's him? The... Leo?" He glanced toward August, then back to the figure. He could hear the others fighting somewhere behind him and it set his scales on edge, but he found he could hardly look away from the ghosts and the glowing figure of the goddess.
At Leopold's gesture he startles a little, then looks to see August moving where the ghost indicated. He hesitates a moment, then moves to follow August's lead.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 28, 2022 19:27:04 GMT -6
(OOC: Una joins the circle and sings with the saints)
With a cry of pain, Una fell and clutched her side. Blood welled from the injury, mixing with clumps of dry mud and rolling, sludge-like, down her waist. She looked up, expecting a second blow, but the king was distracted by the canid. She felt a surge of gratitude for the brave, selfless dog creature. While the king was looking away, Una grabbed the tunic around her neck, shoved it against her injury to slow the bleeding, and crawled toward the alter.
Ah, Vincent had been right. This truly was a cult, serving a goddess of men. However, the goddess had to be better than the king, who was reprehensible and cruel; Una slowly rose and jogged, limping with pain, toward the light. As a ghost, Leo looked so strong, compared to his former form. It made her smile when she saw him.
As Una stepped beside her friends, she joined the chant with her own sweet song, the high part of Misere me Deus. Perhaps, it would convince the merciless goddess to be a tiny bit merciful when she awoke.
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Post by beastly on Oct 28, 2022 19:48:37 GMT -6
((OOC: Vince picks up the shovel, standing in the circle, prepared to block a blow from the king if it comes to it))
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 29, 2022 1:34:18 GMT -6
“The fateful moment is at hand," Cries the crow, resting on the head of one of the statues, far above. "The sacrifices may yet be spared should the gods combat one another.”
The five pilgrims join the circle, completing it. The power thrums through their bodies, like an electric current moving from fingertip to fingertip. Pain-free, yet strange, deafening, a great hum in their ears, a static pressure around them.
The four saints remain where they kneel, praying, their voices a monotonous mutter, undulating in the gloom as each sings their praises of the goddess and her cause. The light around them in a ring intensifies, radiant and powerful, and eventually, blinding. They feel a great rumbling in the ground. Even Leopold the Wise, albeit reluctantly, joins the other saints in their song, his low voice complimenting the tones of the others. Together they formed a chorus of unearthly power. Soon, the light drowns out the differentiation between their shapes, or indeed, any shape, forming a perfect ring around the grave of the Goddess.
The King raises his sword, preparing to rush John and the others. He then pauses, holding his weapon tightly. Perhaps seeing the ring of light, and the incredible power it holds now prevents him from striking now. The dry corpse, in his rotting robes, moves his eyeless head from side to side, as if looking for a target, then seems to give up. The undead creature holds his weapon in a neutral position, as if it could protect him from whatever was coming.
He turns to the Pilgrims, and beseeches those gathered. His voice quivers, as it had not before. He lowers his weapon slightly, inclining his head, as if in sudden respect for the power they hold over all gathered.
“The Hunt Goddess…she must nearly be ready. If…you wait, then perhaps…they can kill one another, and we will not need to be under the tyranny of the Gods anymore.”
The ground beneath their feet trembles. If they decide to delay the ritual, they must decide now.
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Post by indeath on Oct 29, 2022 2:41:01 GMT -6
((August looks to the others as he sits on the fence. He will delay if it seems the decision of the group.))
August cocked his head at the crow’s words. He didn’t like the idea of anyone being a sacrifice, as long as no mortals were harmed with the gods fighting either. They had fought so hard to get here. He feared delaying it could end with them paying the price instead. He was racked with doubt.
“What do ya reckon guys? I’ll go with what y’all decide…”
He anxiously watched the others, ready to step out if they did or stay. He strained to see Leo through the light for some guidance but the man was lost in the light. He ran a hand through his hair.
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Post by beastly on Oct 29, 2022 4:15:07 GMT -6
((Vince decides 'fuck you hunt goddess' and stays in the circle, telling the others they should finish what they've started))
Damn the Hunt goddess. Even if what the dead man and the crow said was true, he didn't want to wait for the off chance both goddesses would kill each other. The wrong goddess could win.
Vincent stood, feeling the power and the hum, then shook his head, kneeling and tossing the shovel aside. The scruffy man glared at the king.
"He's a cornered man who would say anything, " Vincent held his bloody arm, "He can't be trusted. We've started this, let's see it through."
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 29, 2022 4:40:06 GMT -6
[OOC: John votes on letting the gods fight.]
After listening to the King's plea and glancing towards the blinding light, John sat neatly back on his haunches and wrapped his tail over top of his own paws. Again his voice sounded without the fox moving his mouth.
"Now, I understand you have no reason to listen to me, given I withheld my ability to speak until just recently - but you must understand I have had some rather violent run-ins with those who didn't like my ability to do just that and I was rather nervous." He tipped his head, ears drooping into a rather melancholy animal expression. He suspected it would pay to at least appear apologetic. "Nevertheless, if I may, I wonder if perhaps we should let these beings, these... Gods, fight? Not only would I rather not be a sacrifice, I dare say our good friend Leo seemed... reluctant to join in the song just now. Perhaps he wishes for us to wait just a little while?"
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Post by kilnarak on Oct 29, 2022 5:07:11 GMT -6
[ Ash wants to continue the ritual and is worried that delay will see them slain. ]
Ash flinched when the king spoke to them, though with the brightness of the light around them, he couldn't see the corpse. Perhaps the corpse could not see them either. His scales shivered, then settled against his back as he listened to the others' opinions, but in the end...
"I... I agree with the Hunter. If we wait, how will we know when the right time to resume is? We might wait too long, and then we would... would probably die." He tipped his head slightly toward Vincent.
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Post by hadopelagic on Oct 29, 2022 18:54:57 GMT -6
(Una remains within the circle, after deciding that a war between two goddesses might cause untold destruction)
The talk of sacrifices unnerved Una; it was the second time the crows had mentioned that. Were these goddesses bloodthirsty? Would they kill Una and her friends, after all this?
Surely not.
The Hunt Goddess might.
Who would the Harvest Goddess kill?
She listened to her friends speak. They all had good points, but there was no time to consider each in detail. Una was afraid of the destruction that two warring goddesses might cause; one might kill the other, but how long would it take? And Vincent had a point; a huntress might be a stronger fighter than a goddess of the harvest.
So she remained within the circle.
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 30, 2022 2:00:56 GMT -6
All assembled pilgrims decided to finish the ritual.
The light became blinding, completely blocking all view of the King, the Saints, and the rest of the room. The rumbling beneath the floor intensified. The bell tolled again. The hum drowns out all other sound, creating a static crackle of white noise. Combined with the whiteness of the rest of the room, it feels as if one might be floating in the vacuum of an inverted deep ocean, or dark sky.
And then the light coalesces, becoming four wholly solid forms, before gathering within the great golden statue. The effigy of the goddess glows brilliantly, like the sun itself, bringing true illumination to the room, before the light fades into darkness once more. Now, only the four Saints, still standing in their places, create light among the darkness here.
The ground shakes even more fiercely, and pieces of the great pillars and arches of the roof fall to the floor with a mighty crash. The room rolls from side to side, shuffling pews, the throne and statues across the floor in an earthquake. Some of the pieces which tumble from the ceiling seem as if they should land directly on the group and those assembled but are instead thrown aside by some unseen force.
And then a great, glowing white hand thrust its way through the statue from what seems like the earth itself, like a vertical pillar. The violence of the motion sends pieces of the goddess’ statue flying. Its back cracked open, almost like an egg, and another arm appeared, coiling, spider-like over the hole. There was a pause, and the rumbling intensified, the floor shaking more violently. Great cracks appeared in the floor, swallowing the ground around them. Then, the statue, and cathedral both cracked in two, the roof collapsing completely, in a tumble of rubble, dust and debris. Finally, the debris settled, sending moonlight streaming down on the massive being that appeared before the gathered pilgrims.
The immense figure of the goddess was bathed red as blood in the moonlight. Though only her torso was visible, hatching from her cathedral shell, those gathered could see that she was as nude as her depiction, and indeed, she was both beautiful and placid, but in an unnerving way. Her face, eyes and hair were all pure white, as if sculpted of marble, and carried a faint glow that canvassed all of her visible body, like an aurora. Her wings, in contrast, glowed as if made of living flame, curved over her back and shoulders, creating a sort of gently illumination. She crawled free on hands and knees, and then crouched between her Saints, who had not moved from their statue positions.
Each, still kneeling, looked up at their Goddess, even Saint Leopold. The Goddess’ face was thus that she always appeared to be slightly smiling, though her eyes conveyed a piercing sort of emptiness. Still, there was some genuine affection for her entourage, as a man might have for his dogs he had not seen in a long time. She reached out a hand, as large as a man was tall, to delicately pat the standing figure of Saint Jane, then Saint Peregrine, and Saint Bartholomew. When she came to Saint Leopold, she paused, scrunching her eyes in consideration, then, after a moment, tapped him gently with her index finger, before petting his head firmly enough to muss up his now quite solid hair.
She then turned her attention away from her servants, studying first John, then Ash, then Una, Vincent and August, squinting, if only at little, as she stared at each. Though her eyes were featureless, there was the intense feeling of being stared at, or perhaps, into. She moved forward, crossing her arms like a sphinx as she watched them for a moment, as a bored person might watch ants, before rising to a sitting position.
And then she turned her gaze upon the King. He knelt, leaning against his sword, though even those who doubted his intentions would have knowing that he was not hoping for any salvation. She tilted her head, her pupil-less gaze focusing on him. Her smile remained the same as ever; vague, pleasant, and empty. Suddenly her apathetic gaze had a cat-like intensity, and she shifted forward on her forearm, crawling, tabletop, over the Pilgrims.
She seemed to consider for only a moment, enough time for him to speak a final time;
“The void awaits.”
Before she raised her right arm up, and then swatted down with such force the entire structure shook again, pieces of beautiful tile flying up around her with the power of her blow. Those near enough could hear, and perhaps feel, how thoroughly his dried bones were ground to dust and pounded into the earth. Then, she rubbed her hand dismissively against the tile floor, as if wiping off a spider she had just crushed, before assuming a Lotus position.
Her hum joined the hum of the saints, and a pillar of light, like a beacon, shot into the sky. Something else was forming, around the Pilgrims and Saints alike, but it was nebulous, vague. Perhaps she could will it into being.
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Post by indeath on Oct 30, 2022 4:56:40 GMT -6
((August is terrified by the goddess and holds tight to Vincent.))
August couldn’t help flinching as the light grew, his vampire senses went wild. He had to tell himself it wasn’t the actual sun, he wasn’t burning to ashes. No it wasn’t the sun at all but a beautiful woman, August tried to keep his eyes respectful. It was hard not to look at such a large being that took up so much space. She didn’t seem very harvest like.
It was unpleasant being under her glaze, not unlike the stare of the ancient vampires who lived through so many eons that the lives of others were but mayflies. He felt cold as she leaned over them, it was obvious what was about to happen but he still jumped and made small yelp as her hand thundered down. He grabbed on to John’s arm tightly, trying to fold in on himself. It was a instinct born from fear, if you seemed insignificant enough then you weren’t worth attention. Attention was always bad when it came to powerful beings.
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Post by beastly on Oct 30, 2022 5:26:10 GMT -6
((Vincent is frozen in awe, and allows August to hold his arm. He joins the hum. ))
Vincent stayed frozen in spot as the great goddess emerged, her brilliance and distant beauty sparking an old religious and reverent dread. The hunter shuddered, bowing his head. Glorious and terrifying. He was aware of her movement, how could he not be, and his heart beat hard in his chest. Then, he felt eyes on him, looking at him, through his skin, into him. He closed his eyes. Gods were meant to be awe inspiring and beyond mortals, and this one certainly was.
She was over them, then, he could feel it, and the king spoke before being, presumably, crushed. He felt it in the floor. The hunter realized he was holding his breath, and forced himself to breathe. Vincent felt a cold hand grip his arm, and he flinched at the contact. He cracked open an eye, looking at August briefly, before quietly patting his arm with a trembling hand. He couldn't protect August if the goddess decided she was displeased, he felt distant surprise that he wanted to, all he could do was sit in awe of the giant winged woman.
Something was happening around them, and with little understanding of what that was, Vincent joined the saints and the goddess in the hum. What else could one do?
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