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A Carnifex Carol
Moirean
Chairmander Portland
Who doesn't love the classic a Christmas Carol? In the holiday spirit, I present to you a Carnifex event inspired by that story. We even got a cameo from the five scrooges. 
The Prologue
------------
A shadowy training yard. (Shadow Keep.)
A four-legged beast from hell stands here. There are 5 tall, gaunt Nazetu knights here. A weapons rack of metal hounds is here, blades held firmly in iron snarls. A withered houndswood tree is rooted here, wrapped in leather padding to serve as a crude practice pell. Suspended midair, an immense, multi-faceted soulstone is here, pulsating blue motes skittering beneath its surface. A simple bench is here, long enough for three people. There are 5 swarthy Goblin knights here.
(Carnifex): You say, "The guild event is about to begin. Make your way to the soulstone at the Keep."
You give Grimdale a respectful salute.
Straightening into rigid, militant attention, Grimdale squares his shoulders and crisply salutes you.
You say, "We'll wait for the others."
Straightening into rigid, militant attention, Hugo squares his shoulders and crisply salutes his fellow soldiers.
Xenia gives the world a smart salute.
A massive bloodstone golem sniffs Xenia carefully.
Xenia peers at a massive bloodstone golem suspiciously.
Xenia places a hand on a massive bloodstone golem, thumping it with her fingers to test its durability. "Seems a bit fragile," she decides aloud before shooting a smirk towards Grimdale.
Grimdale smirks in return, "He's lived longer than you."
With a snort, you say to Grimdale, "That's low-hanging fruit."
Xenia says to you, "Thanks!"
Grimdale shrugs helplessly.
You have emoted: Moirean then clears her throat, turning to face the gathered Knights. "A bit smaller crowd than I expected," she says. She pauses, before giving a single shrug. "Still, some are better than none - and perhaps the small size will impart the message even better."
Xenia cranes her head forward to take note of all present, eyes meeting each of you before returning her attention to you.
Hugo tucks a leather bound book away into his belt.
You have emoted: Moirean pivots slightly, facing the master soulstone. Her hand clenches the air before her chest, and her magically-fractured soulstone slowly knits back together, inky facets melding into a seamless, smooth stone. Before her, the master glows faintly, a murky ripple gleaming across its surface in response to her gesture.
A soft, quiet noise can be heard at the edge of your perception, too faint to be truly discerned. Something is happening, but beyond that, it's unclear.
You have emoted: "Celesmas," Moirean begins with a cold smile, a hint of icy humor in her eyes. "It's a time of giving." She arches an eyebrow, glancing back over her shoulder at the small group of solders. "So I think our stone deserves a gift, don't you?"
The quiet noise grows in volume - your skin prickles, as if an icy hand were stroking your exposed flesh, and you hear a soft whisper rising in tone, into a faint wail.
Xenia slinks to one side, he armor clinking from beneath her clothing as she begins to pry into a pack. She begins to draw from it a Celesmas sweater with a goofy warhound before returning her gaze to you, "You know, yes, I agree that a present is needed and perhaps we should drape one of these sweaters?" the Idreth begins to suggest.
Grimdale smiles darkly and nods silently at you, his golem echoing the sentiment with a thump of its large feet upon the ground.
Grimdale peers at Xenia suspiciously.
You have emoted: Moirean shoots Xenia a sharp glare, mouth tightening into a stern line, before she turns back to the master stone, raising her hands higher. Her soulstone hovers above her outstretched fingers, and, slowly, wisps begin to twist off of it, like foggy mist licking around a block of ice. Lazily, the tendrils unfurl from her stone and swirl in the air before, inexorably, the begin to twist in on themselves, slowly dragged towards the master stone itself.
Voice sharp and cutting, you say, "Souls, Carnifex. A gift of souls."
Feeding on the first tendril of souls offered out of the soulstone, the master stone deepens in hue, darkening to a pulsating, rich purple. The slender stream of misty souls slides out of the stone, pace quickening, as the master continues to feed, while the soft wailing rises in pitch.
Xenia quickly shoves away the sweater her head slowly beginning to bob along side Grimdale and his golem. With slow deliberate motions, the Idreth reforms her own soulstone, murmuring low words as she coaxes her own wavering tendrils to slink in wavering curves towards the master soulstone.
The addition of a second stream of souls seems to please the master stone - its hue deepens and the dark, pulsating gleam quickens, as it feeds more hungrily. Around you, the cries of the lost and the forlorn increase in volume and quicken in tempo, shrieks now, as wisps of souls batter at the air, trying to flee their fate.
You have emoted: Moirean commands the other two soldiers, "Offer the souls from your stone to the master!"
Grimdale produces his stone in turn, fumbling slightly with his large Earthen hands. When he turns his hand upright and opens it, the stone hovers over his palm, and begins to spin in the air. The force of the spinning causes sand to cascade from his hand, dark shafts of energy shoot from the stone, slamming into the Master with a moaning wail.
Hugo grins a bit, "Now that is a beautiful sight." as he to summons his stone the tendrils of souls flowing into the master with a wail.
More, and more, souls siphoned in, wrenched out of the stones, swallowed and engulfed by the master stone. The fathomless facets shine brightly, glittering with an unholy, lurid purple glow.
Satomi lets out a slow exhale as she gestures in a vaguely dismissive fashion, her soulstone materializing before her as her sands swirl and coalesce into the roughly spherical shape. She crosses her arms and observes as it begins a steady stream of channeled spirits into the Master Soulstone.
Wails turn to shrieks turn to deafening cries of despair, fear, anger, lust, agony - and then, there is an abrupt silence, as the master soulstone abruptly ceases its feeding. There is a sudden, heavy silence, and the air grows bitterly cold...
...before a sudden wave of energy shoots out, lancing into each of you, blue light arcing to each of your stones before splintering off into the distance, coursing upwards towards the sky in a dazzling, chilly column of deathly magic.
Far off in the distance, a second column can be spotted, spiralling upwards to echo the one from the master. It seems to be coming from somewhere west of Enorian.
You have emoted: Moirean staggers backwards, fingers reflexively clutching around her soulstone. She draws in a ragged breath, eyes wide, and then blinks a few times, shaking her head to clear it. "I..." She's speechless for a moment.
Finally regaining her voice, you say, "I think it is returning our gift..."
The sands from his hand reach up and absorb his stone as Grimdale says with a smirk, "That's not proper Celesmas etiquette."
You have emoted: Moirean cranes her neck, eyes narrowing as she peers off into the distance towards the lowlands below. "Where is that?" she muses, frowning pensively.
Hugo asks, "Jaru?"
As the arc of energy penetrates Xenia's chest the Idreth clutches at the stone. With a number of blinks and a quick shake of the head she asks, "maybe it's just giving us a bit of something in return?"
Grimdale says, "Only a few places West of that cesspool."
You have emoted: Moirean blinks, surprised by the answer. "Jaru," she echoes. "Of course..." She quickly flicks her fingers in a clear silent command for you all to follow her.
A massive bloodstone golem says, "Burn Enorian?"
As if anticipating danger, Xenia reaches for her bardiche, in preparation.
Xenia uses Wield.
Xenia starts to wield a bardiche in her hands.
Hugo says, "That's a good golem."
Simply, you say, "We shall see when we get there."
The Souls of Celesmas Past...
------------------------
Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the south.
Outskirts of Jaru. (road) (Jaru.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth.
You see exits leading north and south.
As soon as you enter the outskirts of the village, you can sense something is...different. The air is colder, far more chilly than the warm southern climes typically are, and tinged with a deep blue glow from the pillar of icy light spiralling up in the distance.
Xenia pulls at her cloak, cuffing it about her neck as she peers deeper into the village. "Something off," she mentions to the others, "you all notice that?"
Grimdale nods his head emphatically.
You have emoted: Moirean cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing. "I don't know if...off...is the right word," she thoughtfully says. "It's...different, but...bad?"
Grimdale says, "I like the cold."
Squinting, Xenia says, "Depends on who it's bad for. Seem's bad for here, but don't see mlike it's bad for us..."
You have emoted: Moirean unslings her own hammer, gripping it tightly in both hands, before she gives a grunt and a nod towards the street before you. "Let's go," she declares, and then leads you all on a slow, cautious trek deeper into the village.
Xenia begins to assess her equipment, attaching a sigil to a bardiche as she steps closer to you, awaiting further directive.
As you approach the central square, it becomes increasingly clear that something is changed about the village. It's quiet - deathly quiet - and you notice a dark rivulet of some thick liquid flowing through the gutters lining the road, limed with ice. In the chilly blue light, it looks almost purple.
You have emoted: Moirean's boots stomp over one of the pools beside the road with a sharp crack of ice - a muddy crimson liquid sloshes up over her feet, and the sharp tang of blood fills your nose.
Hugo grins a bit as he looks around, "Yah just can't help feel excited you know?"
Grimdale wrinkles his nose, "I guess, but that blood...does not smell good."
Her own senses less aware or heightened for blood, Xenia does not seem to notice the blood, instead making her way to a near by home to peek into a window with shielded eyes. "Hmm," the Idreth hums, "nobody there and don't seem nobody around here, maybe they finally gave up and abandoned this place."
You have emoted: Moirean frowns down at her soiled boots, kicking against a curb to shake off the sluggish liquid. "This reminds me of something..." she mumbles. "Not sure wha--" Her words cut off. She's not kicking a curb. It rolls sideways - and its head lolls over, eyes empty and staring up at you. It's a corpse.
Xenia wrinkles her nose, "They had all the fun and they didn't pike the head," she adds, stomping her feet from side to side to kick away any clinging ice.
Satomi says to Xenia, "Piking is a hassle when you've got artwork to create."
Eyes widening, you say, "Oh. OH!"
Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the southeast.
The crossroads of Jaru. (Jaru.)
Grimdale says, "Someone had all the fun already."
You have emoted: Moirean rushes onwards, towards the village square, boots cracking over ice - the column of light pours down here, spinning out twisting, freezing splinters of soul-magic...and everywhere the chilly light touches, the village is changed, like some portal has been opened into another dimension.
Hugo asks, "What has this kind of power?"
In the cold blue glow, a village can be seen, burning. Azure flames lick at rooftops, while sapphire streams of blood puddle the ground, splashed about in a monochrome macabre display of carnage. Corpses lie in piles, and, through the mounds of the dead, you can discern movement.
Ranks of soldiers, clad in spiked black armor - you're sure one of them looks almost like Grimdale - part to reveal a familiar face.
It is Roan.
Aside to Satomi, Xenia begins to say, "Who says a pike ain't art-- oh pit" Quickly the Idreth nudges Satomi and nods towards Roan before assuming a stance of attention.
You realize, suddenly, that it is not another dimension you are looking upon, but another TIME. This is the Jaru-that-was, somehow brought back by the power of the master stone in a vision, to gift you with a glorious view of the nascent Carnifex, the ritual that unlocked the first practice of deathlore.
Amberlea, Kendri, and Valingar enter from the northwest following Rashar.
"Greetings," Rashar rumbles politely.
A cloaked figure pets a wyvern spirit ingratiatingly.
You have emoted: Moirean straightens, saluting the man as well. "Roan," she murmurs in greeting.
"Not the place for you all, this," Valingar rumbles.
Valingar says, "The Carnifex have done enough in Jaru, no?"
The spectral man does not seem to overtly notice you - it's unclear if he even can - and instead he merely continues to march down the line of soldiers, nodding at one here, assessing a corpse there.
Rashar makes a quiet noise of agreement as he spins a slow circle, scanning the area and then moving to stand slightly to the right and behind Valingar.
Xenia seeming entirely in a daze, perhaps not even aware of the presence of those newly arrived, her attention being entirely on an image that perhaps only she and the other Carnifex can see.
Hugo looks on in a state of awe, "It is...glorious."
You have emoted: Moirean also ignores the new arrivals, attention raptly fixed on the scene from the past, illuminated by the chilly blue column of light arcing down from the soulstone in the distance.
Kendri lifts her nose to the air, scenting toward the strange happenings without actually moving any closer.
Apparently oblivious to his audience-from-the-future, Roan - whole, and strong, a powerful Roan, not the Roan that he became under Dhar's assault - lifts his arms in silent exultation. The spectral soldiers, Infernals, you realize, from their armor and swords, snap to attention, saluting at him in unison.
Grimdale smiles as if half remembering something, "I remember...I looked pretty good back then."
A cloaked figure murmurs to himself. "he looked good?"
You can hear nothing, but Roan's mouth is now moving. It's clear he's chanting, and instructing the ghostly soldiers. Four step forwards from the crowd. They each drag a villager with them, the only other signs of life in the spectral tableaux.
As the Infernals approach, knives are pulled and lifted to the villager's necks. In precise, militant unison, they slice the throats - and the blood fountains out, deep blue in the spectral vision. At this moment, briefly, Roan turns...and it's almost as if he can see past the vision, to all of you watching. He smiles, and in his grin is death.
And then he's back to leading the soldiers. Dozens of mouths move together in chants, while misty wisps spiral upwards towards the sky, circling the pillar of cold blue light. The air before each Knight darkens, resolving into tiny shards - soulstones, the first ones - while a larger, denser object forms above Roan's heaven-lifted arms, spinning heavier and more tangible by the second: the master soulstone, borne on the death of the villagers.
"Mm," Rashar murmurs audibly. "Much more dangerous as well, it seems."
Xenia remains near to her comrades as her knuckles whiten beneath a tightening grip upon a bardiche. The Idreth cranes her neck forward, green eyes sweeping over each of the Carnifex until at last she catches Grimdale's eye. "Wasn't Mastema in there?" she asks.
Grimdale nods his head at Xenia.
One Knight turns, breaking his spot in the ranks, as if surprised by some noise. Another turns as well, and then the source becomes clear: winding past you all, grazing you with icy whispers, come the form of ghostly hounds, heads tilted back as if howling and snarling. Each one pads up to a knight and bares its teeth, daring them to become their masters.
Roan says something - it's unclear in the silence what - but each Knight turns to the warhound before him and her, and, cruelly, callously, each in their own way, dominates the beast. Roan nods. Fierce smiles ring the circle. And then...the flames sweep past the group, obscuring the vision as the blue light slowly begins to fade.
You have emoted: Moirean lets out a pent breath, falling back a step. The gutter is full of merely dirty water once more, not frozen blood, and the air is warm again.
Satomi licks her lips slowly as she notices the number of individuals here. "Hm."
You have emoted: Moirean blinks, eyes still dazzled by the vision, and then slowly turns her attention back to the present. "Ah," she says to the new arrivals. "Hi."
Rashar raises his brows. "Mm," he agrees.
Amberlea glances up towards the rising sun.
As the images begin to fade away, Xenia becomes acutely aware of the presence of Rashar, Valingar, Kendri and finally Amberlea and where at first her expression is harsh it slowly begins to ease into something of recognition. "Ahh--" she voices out, glancing towards you, "You lot see all that too?"
"Finished reliving the glory days?" Rashar asks, spinning his axe idly in his hand. "Might be near time for you to go, I'd expect."
Kendri snarls silently from her father's side, claws digging into the dirty street.
Satomi shrugs lightly as she takes a slow step forward, sniffing curiously, before murmuring to Rashar, "Your little pup is cute."
Rashar smiles at Satomi.
You have emoted: Moirean clears her throat, dismissively looking past the southerners to address the Carnifex. "I think this gives us much to think on," she states. "It...gives me ideas. Changes. Progress." Her gaze slides over to Rashar for a moment, before it settles back on the soldiers. "A brief guild meeting is in order."
Amberlea lopes restlessly in a circle, sending up a cloud of dust.
---- travel to guildhall ----
Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the up.
A fire-lit meeting hall. (Shadow Keep.)
A glowing red flame-shaped sigil has been left here. A simple bench is here, long enough for three people. Ringed with a border of inset skulls, a firepit fills the center of the chamber.
(Carnifex): You say, "We're having a brief guild meeting at the meeting hall in the Keep."
(Carnifex): You say, "Ser Aldric, if you'd like to join us?"
(Carnifex): Aldric says, "Give me two minutes, I'm tallyin' up new bids."
Xenia slides her bardiche back away before crossing her arms and settling into a lean against the south wall.
Grimdale pats a massive bloodstone golem in a friendly manner.
Grimdale says, "We can burn next time."
Hugo grins as he enters the room a chuckle escapes his lips before erupting into a full twisted laugh.
Satomi eases over to Xenia's position before, with the help of the wall, creates a fairly sturdy block of sand to sit on. She crosses her right leg over her left and leans back semi-comfortably.
Grimdale takes a place at one of the benches, stretching out as it creaks under his weight.
Grimdale gestures and barks, "Go."
Grimdale utters a word of command to his golem.
With a guttural moan a massive bloodstone golem looks upward and then melds away into the ground.
Hugo laughs a bit longer before calming down enough to say, "Did you see it? Did you see it? The glorious uniformity of that army, killing machines every one of them!"
(Carnifex): You say, "We're having a brief guild meeting at the meeting hall in the Keep."
Grimdale says, "Eh, the Infernals were not THAT united, they did however, come together well for that cause."
You have emoted: Moirean gives a tense nod. "An army," she agrees. She slowly sweeps her gaze across the chamber, meeting each of you with a thoughtful stare. "That is who we were meant to be. That is what we were working to become."
You say, "ARE working to become."
Grimdale says, "We are a step or two better than we were, I can tell you that much."
You have emoted: Moirean nods curtly, and then points out, "But we can be better."
Grimdale nods his head in agreement.
Hugo says, "Still I wish I could have been their from the beginning."
Shaking her head, you say, "Don't focus on the past - instead, see this as a new beginning-."
The corners of Hugo's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
Hugo says, "Of course commander."
You have emoted: Moirean is suddenly interrupted by a pulsing wave of light, the same cold blue light as before. It arcs through the room, blasting at all of you with an icy gust.
It seems the master stone is not done yet with its gift.
Xenia's head wavers from side to side and she straightens a bit from her lean to peer about the room. Deciding that all is at it was, though, she resumes her previous perch.
You have emoted: Moirean blinks in astonishment as the light courses through the chamber, before it twists away with a howling roar. "Where did it go this time?!" she demands, striding to the stairs and peering down them.
You have emoted: Moirean blinks. "The Fort," she then answers herself. "Gruxmal is...irate. He sounds like a snake mated with a popped balloon."
Hugo sings, "The darkness comes strong and true, not a light in the world shall protect you."
Grimdale says, "Snake and popped balloon? I have to see this."
Aldric slides fluidly off the back of the gargantuan spider he rides upon, his boots coming into contact with the floor with a muffled thud. Seeing shenanigans going on already, he merely levels a flat stare at you before falling nonetheless in line.
Impatiently, you say, "Sss shhhshshshsssss you know how he is."
Grimdale smirks.
The Souls of Celesmas Present..
------------------------
---- Travel to the Fort ---
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the southwest.
Cavernous martial hall. (Bloodloch.)
A glowing red flame-shaped sigil has been left here. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Protected from head to toe by tattered armor, Wraithlord Gruxmal looms here. Suspended midair, an immense, multi-faceted soulstone is here, a large crack splitting it in two. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Wraithlord Gruxmal is a tutor you can learn your skills from, view HELP LEARNING for more information.
Through a yawn, evidently not quite completely awake as of yet, Aldric asks Xenia, "What've I missed?"
Before you can even get a foot in the door, Gruxmal is there, glaring at you. He points towards the second soulstone, letting out a very irritated hiss.
Xenia says to Aldric, "We gave some souls to the soulstone, now it's sending us all over Sapience to look at things. Just came from Jaru, seems it wanted us to relive the ritual in Jaru that forged the Stone. Thought it was done but seems we gotta go here now."
"It'ssss acting up," he hisses. And indeed it is - the same blue light from Jaru is now dancing about the second master stone, arcing and sizzling in an icy conduit across the facets. Most of the gleaming seems to center on the fracture in the center of the rock.
You have emoted: Moirean makes a grunting noise at Wraithlord Gruxmal, attempting to silence him. She steps closer towards the stone, reaching out to touch the crack splitting its middle, right where the light is sharpest...
Ashmer's mismatched gaze settles steadily on an immense, scarred soulstone. A rivulet of black blood leaches from the corner of his mouth, then drips to the floor.
Aldric's shoulders sag somewhat as he releases a groan before leaning sideways against Xenia in a pouty display completely unfitting for a man of his bulk.
You have emoted: ...and is immediately blasted off her feet, rocketing backwards to slam into Aldric. Moirean lets out a muffled grunt, doing her best to disentangle herself, but her protests are swiftly silenced by a sudden, sharp wail, as the light flares brighter, nearly blinding you all with the chilly blue glow.
Hugo attempts to shield his eyes from the glow.
Ashmer's black teeth bare with a hissing rasp, his lidless eye unable to shut against the flared light.
"Oof-, Pit, 'ey, got you," Aldric manages as he laces his arms under your in an attempt to help the woman easily to your feet.
As the wave of freezing light recedes, you see yourselves before you, etched out from the shadows and glints and reflected gleams of the soulstone. The scene is familiar-
"Pit!" Xenia bursts suddenly as both you and Aldric nearly knock the Idreth from her feet, and while the two of them remain balanced, she finds herself dancing foot over foot to finally land with a sickly -smacking- sound in the slowly forming black ooze of blood dripping from Ashmer's mouth.
Ashmer shifts one bare, clawed foot a few inches from Xenia's sprawled form.
There are bodies, piled before you, a mountain of denizens - some alive, some dead, some struggling to escape - and Gruxmal gleefully wading through them, arms lifted as if conducting some sort of macabre orchestra. You - the other yous - lift your own arms, soulstones spinning out into existence, and misty tendrils dance through the chamber, twisting among the spectral scene.
Nearby, a vicious warhound looses a low, rumbling growl and sniffs sharply at Xenia.
Wit ha grunt, Xenia rises to her feet, shooting Ashmer a dark look as she wipes the blood from her hands.
There are other faces in that crowd, faces you recognize as traitors - Rashar, Arbre, some mouthy kid - but all are soon eclipsed by the wraiths drawn out of the corpses, filling the vast hall with their roaming, spirits, before the spectral stones shackle them down, draining them, herding them, corralling them towards the center of the room.
Evidently caught in a game of catch-that-woman, Aldric eases his arms from you to slide fluidly towards Xenia with an extended arm. "C'mon get u-" he starts to mumble, but the pile of corpses catches his attention and slacks his jaw. Is he drooling at the corner of his mouth? Possibly.
"Or not," Aldric dismisses with a grunt.
Ashmer's only answer is a twist of his lipless mouth.
You have emoted: Moirean does her best to regain her balance as she's tossed about, but her attention is fixed mostly on the scene before her, eyes wide as she watches the very recent memory retell itself.
A vicious warhound muzzles at Xenia's leg, then up to lap some of the sticky ichor from hers fingers.
Xenia grunts something to Aldric that sounds vaguely of a confirmation, though otherwise, her attention remains fixed upon the corpses and Gruxmal's seeming enthusiasm.
The spirits begin to coalesce, just like they did in Jaru, knitting together into a massive, gleaming soulstone - but, at the last moment, as the ritual is nearly complete, something happens. A cloaked figure appears. A skeletal hand claws outwards. Mouths open in silent, angry protest. The stone...cracks.
You have emoted: "Dhar," Moirean spits, watching the vision.
Softly, Ashmer says, "So that is how it was broken."
Hugo says, "Damned jealous He is."
The cowled figure spins away, driven back by the soldiers and their souls, but not before he leaves a parting gift - suddenly, at the side of each Knight, the hounds turn, feral and rabid looks in their eyes. They begin to howl, jaws widen in silent screams, before they lunge at their masters, wild and plagued.
You have emoted: Moirean lets out a long, angry hiss, sounding positively Gruxmalian. "Dhar," she bitterly repeats.
A vicious warhound gives a soft yelp that deepens into a throaty growl.
Aldric's eyebrows draw inwards in consternation at the display, a hand reaching to to lightly rest almost reassuringly upon the back of the warhound's neck that rests so loyally by his side.
Curiously, though the scene ends, the light does not dissipate. Instead, it begins to spread, lancing out from the cracked master to twist towards each of you. Slowly, it solidifies, coalescing into thick chains visually tethering your own soulstones to this imperfect master.
You have emoted: Moirean gasps in surprise, eyes widening as she stares down at her own stone and the cold blue light snaring around it.
Ashmer clutches an immense, scarred soulstone against his armored chest, his sound eye narrowing sharply.
"'Eeey, get out'a here with that," Aldric grumbles with a swatting wave towards the ethereal light that pierces through to his soulstone.
Hugo gasps out in reflex as the chains wrap around his stone.
You have emoted: Moirean gives her head a faint shake. "It's from the master stone," she murmurs, lifting her own hand to let the light fully ensconce her stone.
The chains tighten, the light firming into something more tangible, akin to summoned soul chains. But... like the master they are knit from...each chain is incomplete and imperfect. The more solid they become, the more clear it is that each link is brittle, some even cracked. All are intact, to an extent, but none are truly adamant.
While still evidently quite reluctant, Aldric drops his hands to his sides. He eyes each brittle link that makes up the chain wrapped around his own soulstone with a wary glance.
You have emoted: Moirean forces herself to regard the links - the guild's unity itself, spelled out in souls - even though a twisted, pained expression crosses her face. She draws in a slow breath, fingers tightening until nails dig into her skin...but she does not look away.
The light pulses once, sharply, chilly, as if demanding you all the look at what it has wrought.
Hugo looks at the miserable sight with a look of pain on his face, but a determined set to his jaw keeps his eyes steady.
You have emoted: Moirean obliges, reluctantly, and then lets out a slow sigh. "We are not an army," she admits softly. "We have grown quiet, and solitary..."
With his soulstone still cradled against his collapsed chest, Ashmer reaches out and lightly caresses the ethereal chain.
The light flares again - the Commander's words have hit the mark, you sense - and then dwindles, drawing back towards the cracked master as the links slowly fade out of existence. Only a faint, flickering glow remains, licking across the cracked seam in the flawed master stone.
Aldric seems to face some sort of internal struggle in regards to whether he should speak up or not, a conflicted look seeming to dominate every facet of his countenance. He settles on silence, shoulders drooping as his focus is drawn to the cracked stone.
Just when it seems the master stone has left you with merely a bleak, sad view of the present, after the glorious vision of the past you were initially gifted with...you hear something. Quiet, faint at first, but distinct and memorable - it is the warhorn, sounded from afar.
Again, the sound rings out, louder now. The very hall around you picks up on the cry, tossing it about in echoes, until it is resounding and rebounding to shake your very bones. The war horn is blowing! The war horn is blowing!
Though the sound is muffled by the reverberating horn-call, a bone somewhere in Ashmer's scoliotic spine breaks audibly.
You have emoted: Moirean blinks, jarred out of her pathetic, self-reflecting reverie by the noise. Her head lifts. She stares at the rest of you.
Uncertainly, you say, "Is that..."
Aldric's back straightens attentively, head snapping back and forth as if to discern the intentions of those who stand beside him. "Well c'mon, horn's callin'," he finally comments with a 'let's go' sort of gesture.
The Souls of Celesmas Future..
------------------------
(Carnifex): Medeya, the Gatewarden says, "Would SOMEONE get up here and stop that racket?! It sounds like that Imp girl of yours is back, Commander. My head!"
You have emoted: Moirean blinks again, before giving a sharp nod.
Aldric pointedly says nothing at all.
Hugo feels the rhythm in his chest and help can't help but to stand up straighter.
Clinking and clacking, the portcullis slowly rolls up and locks into place. You walk through, the portcullis crashing back down behind you.
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the ether.
Between the portcullises.
Medeya, the Carnifex gatewarden stands here tall and imposing. A weapons rack of metal hounds is here, blades held firmly in iron snarls. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Medeya, the gatewarden is a tutor you can learn your skills from, view HELP LEARNING for more information.
You give Medeya, the gatewarden a respectful salute.
Aldric snorts arrogantly at Medeya, the gatewarden.
Medeya merely points straight upwards, grimacing at the noise. The horn is, indeed, blowing, over and over, louder than it every has before, to echo across the mountains.
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the up.
Parapets above the gate. (Shadow Keep.)
Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. A murky darkness has settled in here.
You see exits leading up and down.
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the up.
Widowmaker's walk. (Shadow Keep.)
Its pearly surface awash in icy blue light, a massive warhorn is fixed to the ground here. A murky darkness has settled in here.
As you surmount the tower, you find nobody - but that blue glow from before is omnipresent, swirling about the entire walk and watchtower in a stunning, dazzling blue glow. It's dark and light and icy hot and demanding, drawing the eye impatiently.
You have emoted: Moirean lifts one hand to shade her eyes, trying to discern what it is the stone is showing her - all of you - through the chaotic beams of cold light.
The light lingers just long enough - apparently to ensure it has your attention - before it leaps, tumbling outwards off the watchtower. But it does not just head in one direction. Instead, it splits, cascading outwards in a halo that encompasses the entire peak...and then spreads.
Aldric's eyebrows lift in a fascinated display, his head tracking each ray of light for but the briefest of moments as it curls away fro the assembled group.
As the light spreads, it grows, twisting and deepening in luster. It slams against rocks, trees, hills, and sparks violently, boiling up into a murky churn, like an avalanche gathering steam. In this growing wake, shapes form, merely boiling masses at first, but soon resolving into clear imagines.
They are soldiers, sweeping down the mountainside, ranks and ranks of soldiers marching beside each other, clad in spiked black armor and wielding hammers and halberds. At their sides, warhounds course, bounding and leaping and gnashing at the air.
It is an army, and that army is advancing on the world.
You have emoted: An impulsive, gleeful whoop escapes Moirean's lips as the vision unfolds. She punches at the air in delight.
You have emoted: As Moirean punches upwards, the soulstone in her hands sparks brightly, its own glow sharpening to match that from the master stone pouring down the mountainside.
Spittle flying, a vicious warhound lets out a sharp bark and gnashes its teeth at the air.
You soon realize each of YOUR stones are glowing as well, coldly gleaming, as faint wisps of soul stream up to reach towards hers.
Grimdale slams his massive fists together, sending sand flying, stomping the ground as he steps forward.
Aldric can't help but allow his lips to quirk upwards into a sort of proud grin as he eyes the armies stepping down the mountainside in formation. With a nod of clear approval, he lifts his soulstone forwards, its ethereal glow brightened threefold with a blinding luminosity as it's raised.
Hugo starts to laugh again the images fill him with mirth he raises his stone high to match his comrades.
Grimdale grunts as his stone bursts from his hand violently to hover glowing, by his head.
Ashmer's knuckles crumble audibly, leaving his thin, armor-backed hand a gnarled mess clutched around the shard of soulstone embedded in his hollow chest.
The eerie blue fire wisps and wavers in the gusting winds of the ledge, the flames licking higher into the air in the silence as the soulstones are raised one by one.
As your stones unite, the power of deathlore courses through you - souls fountain out, swirling about you, and then plume down the mountainside in a waterfall of cold, sinister magic. Shackled and tormented, they try to flee, but your combined might soon diverts them, driving them onwards, until even your captured victims are joining the mighty army of the Carnifex-that-could-be.
Hugo sings, "The darkness comes strong and true. Not a light in the world will protect you. No mercy resides in our still hearts. The Lady has shown us her killing arts. The carnifex ride on waves of blood. Light, fire, and forest shall drown beneath the flood!"
A palpitating tremor resonates from the leylines as a lesser focal point is tapped for its energy.
Triumphantly, you say, "The Carnifex Army! Now...let's go slaughter!"
--- And then we all bum-rushed a lesser ---
The Prologue
------------
A shadowy training yard. (Shadow Keep.)
A four-legged beast from hell stands here. There are 5 tall, gaunt Nazetu knights here. A weapons rack of metal hounds is here, blades held firmly in iron snarls. A withered houndswood tree is rooted here, wrapped in leather padding to serve as a crude practice pell. Suspended midair, an immense, multi-faceted soulstone is here, pulsating blue motes skittering beneath its surface. A simple bench is here, long enough for three people. There are 5 swarthy Goblin knights here.
(Carnifex): You say, "The guild event is about to begin. Make your way to the soulstone at the Keep."
You give Grimdale a respectful salute.
Straightening into rigid, militant attention, Grimdale squares his shoulders and crisply salutes you.
You say, "We'll wait for the others."
Straightening into rigid, militant attention, Hugo squares his shoulders and crisply salutes his fellow soldiers.
Xenia gives the world a smart salute.
A massive bloodstone golem sniffs Xenia carefully.
Xenia peers at a massive bloodstone golem suspiciously.
Xenia places a hand on a massive bloodstone golem, thumping it with her fingers to test its durability. "Seems a bit fragile," she decides aloud before shooting a smirk towards Grimdale.
Grimdale smirks in return, "He's lived longer than you."
With a snort, you say to Grimdale, "That's low-hanging fruit."
Xenia says to you, "Thanks!"
Grimdale shrugs helplessly.
You have emoted: Moirean then clears her throat, turning to face the gathered Knights. "A bit smaller crowd than I expected," she says. She pauses, before giving a single shrug. "Still, some are better than none - and perhaps the small size will impart the message even better."
Xenia cranes her head forward to take note of all present, eyes meeting each of you before returning her attention to you.
Hugo tucks a leather bound book away into his belt.
You have emoted: Moirean pivots slightly, facing the master soulstone. Her hand clenches the air before her chest, and her magically-fractured soulstone slowly knits back together, inky facets melding into a seamless, smooth stone. Before her, the master glows faintly, a murky ripple gleaming across its surface in response to her gesture.
A soft, quiet noise can be heard at the edge of your perception, too faint to be truly discerned. Something is happening, but beyond that, it's unclear.
You have emoted: "Celesmas," Moirean begins with a cold smile, a hint of icy humor in her eyes. "It's a time of giving." She arches an eyebrow, glancing back over her shoulder at the small group of solders. "So I think our stone deserves a gift, don't you?"
The quiet noise grows in volume - your skin prickles, as if an icy hand were stroking your exposed flesh, and you hear a soft whisper rising in tone, into a faint wail.
Xenia slinks to one side, he armor clinking from beneath her clothing as she begins to pry into a pack. She begins to draw from it a Celesmas sweater with a goofy warhound before returning her gaze to you, "You know, yes, I agree that a present is needed and perhaps we should drape one of these sweaters?" the Idreth begins to suggest.
Grimdale smiles darkly and nods silently at you, his golem echoing the sentiment with a thump of its large feet upon the ground.
Grimdale peers at Xenia suspiciously.
You have emoted: Moirean shoots Xenia a sharp glare, mouth tightening into a stern line, before she turns back to the master stone, raising her hands higher. Her soulstone hovers above her outstretched fingers, and, slowly, wisps begin to twist off of it, like foggy mist licking around a block of ice. Lazily, the tendrils unfurl from her stone and swirl in the air before, inexorably, the begin to twist in on themselves, slowly dragged towards the master stone itself.
Voice sharp and cutting, you say, "Souls, Carnifex. A gift of souls."
Feeding on the first tendril of souls offered out of the soulstone, the master stone deepens in hue, darkening to a pulsating, rich purple. The slender stream of misty souls slides out of the stone, pace quickening, as the master continues to feed, while the soft wailing rises in pitch.
Xenia quickly shoves away the sweater her head slowly beginning to bob along side Grimdale and his golem. With slow deliberate motions, the Idreth reforms her own soulstone, murmuring low words as she coaxes her own wavering tendrils to slink in wavering curves towards the master soulstone.
The addition of a second stream of souls seems to please the master stone - its hue deepens and the dark, pulsating gleam quickens, as it feeds more hungrily. Around you, the cries of the lost and the forlorn increase in volume and quicken in tempo, shrieks now, as wisps of souls batter at the air, trying to flee their fate.
You have emoted: Moirean commands the other two soldiers, "Offer the souls from your stone to the master!"
Grimdale produces his stone in turn, fumbling slightly with his large Earthen hands. When he turns his hand upright and opens it, the stone hovers over his palm, and begins to spin in the air. The force of the spinning causes sand to cascade from his hand, dark shafts of energy shoot from the stone, slamming into the Master with a moaning wail.
Hugo grins a bit, "Now that is a beautiful sight." as he to summons his stone the tendrils of souls flowing into the master with a wail.
More, and more, souls siphoned in, wrenched out of the stones, swallowed and engulfed by the master stone. The fathomless facets shine brightly, glittering with an unholy, lurid purple glow.
Satomi lets out a slow exhale as she gestures in a vaguely dismissive fashion, her soulstone materializing before her as her sands swirl and coalesce into the roughly spherical shape. She crosses her arms and observes as it begins a steady stream of channeled spirits into the Master Soulstone.
Wails turn to shrieks turn to deafening cries of despair, fear, anger, lust, agony - and then, there is an abrupt silence, as the master soulstone abruptly ceases its feeding. There is a sudden, heavy silence, and the air grows bitterly cold...
...before a sudden wave of energy shoots out, lancing into each of you, blue light arcing to each of your stones before splintering off into the distance, coursing upwards towards the sky in a dazzling, chilly column of deathly magic.
Far off in the distance, a second column can be spotted, spiralling upwards to echo the one from the master. It seems to be coming from somewhere west of Enorian.
You have emoted: Moirean staggers backwards, fingers reflexively clutching around her soulstone. She draws in a ragged breath, eyes wide, and then blinks a few times, shaking her head to clear it. "I..." She's speechless for a moment.
Finally regaining her voice, you say, "I think it is returning our gift..."
The sands from his hand reach up and absorb his stone as Grimdale says with a smirk, "That's not proper Celesmas etiquette."
You have emoted: Moirean cranes her neck, eyes narrowing as she peers off into the distance towards the lowlands below. "Where is that?" she muses, frowning pensively.
Hugo asks, "Jaru?"
As the arc of energy penetrates Xenia's chest the Idreth clutches at the stone. With a number of blinks and a quick shake of the head she asks, "maybe it's just giving us a bit of something in return?"
Grimdale says, "Only a few places West of that cesspool."
You have emoted: Moirean blinks, surprised by the answer. "Jaru," she echoes. "Of course..." She quickly flicks her fingers in a clear silent command for you all to follow her.
A massive bloodstone golem says, "Burn Enorian?"
As if anticipating danger, Xenia reaches for her bardiche, in preparation.
Xenia uses Wield.
Xenia starts to wield a bardiche in her hands.
Hugo says, "That's a good golem."
Simply, you say, "We shall see when we get there."
The Souls of Celesmas Past...
------------------------
Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the south.
Outskirts of Jaru. (road) (Jaru.)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth.
You see exits leading north and south.
As soon as you enter the outskirts of the village, you can sense something is...different. The air is colder, far more chilly than the warm southern climes typically are, and tinged with a deep blue glow from the pillar of icy light spiralling up in the distance.
Xenia pulls at her cloak, cuffing it about her neck as she peers deeper into the village. "Something off," she mentions to the others, "you all notice that?"
Grimdale nods his head emphatically.
You have emoted: Moirean cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing. "I don't know if...off...is the right word," she thoughtfully says. "It's...different, but...bad?"
Grimdale says, "I like the cold."
Squinting, Xenia says, "Depends on who it's bad for. Seem's bad for here, but don't see mlike it's bad for us..."
You have emoted: Moirean unslings her own hammer, gripping it tightly in both hands, before she gives a grunt and a nod towards the street before you. "Let's go," she declares, and then leads you all on a slow, cautious trek deeper into the village.
Xenia begins to assess her equipment, attaching a sigil to a bardiche as she steps closer to you, awaiting further directive.
As you approach the central square, it becomes increasingly clear that something is changed about the village. It's quiet - deathly quiet - and you notice a dark rivulet of some thick liquid flowing through the gutters lining the road, limed with ice. In the chilly blue light, it looks almost purple.
You have emoted: Moirean's boots stomp over one of the pools beside the road with a sharp crack of ice - a muddy crimson liquid sloshes up over her feet, and the sharp tang of blood fills your nose.
Hugo grins a bit as he looks around, "Yah just can't help feel excited you know?"
Grimdale wrinkles his nose, "I guess, but that blood...does not smell good."
Her own senses less aware or heightened for blood, Xenia does not seem to notice the blood, instead making her way to a near by home to peek into a window with shielded eyes. "Hmm," the Idreth hums, "nobody there and don't seem nobody around here, maybe they finally gave up and abandoned this place."
You have emoted: Moirean frowns down at her soiled boots, kicking against a curb to shake off the sluggish liquid. "This reminds me of something..." she mumbles. "Not sure wha--" Her words cut off. She's not kicking a curb. It rolls sideways - and its head lolls over, eyes empty and staring up at you. It's a corpse.
Xenia wrinkles her nose, "They had all the fun and they didn't pike the head," she adds, stomping her feet from side to side to kick away any clinging ice.
Satomi says to Xenia, "Piking is a hassle when you've got artwork to create."
Eyes widening, you say, "Oh. OH!"
Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the southeast.
The crossroads of Jaru. (Jaru.)
Grimdale says, "Someone had all the fun already."
You have emoted: Moirean rushes onwards, towards the village square, boots cracking over ice - the column of light pours down here, spinning out twisting, freezing splinters of soul-magic...and everywhere the chilly light touches, the village is changed, like some portal has been opened into another dimension.
Hugo asks, "What has this kind of power?"
In the cold blue glow, a village can be seen, burning. Azure flames lick at rooftops, while sapphire streams of blood puddle the ground, splashed about in a monochrome macabre display of carnage. Corpses lie in piles, and, through the mounds of the dead, you can discern movement.
Ranks of soldiers, clad in spiked black armor - you're sure one of them looks almost like Grimdale - part to reveal a familiar face.
It is Roan.
Aside to Satomi, Xenia begins to say, "Who says a pike ain't art-- oh pit" Quickly the Idreth nudges Satomi and nods towards Roan before assuming a stance of attention.
You realize, suddenly, that it is not another dimension you are looking upon, but another TIME. This is the Jaru-that-was, somehow brought back by the power of the master stone in a vision, to gift you with a glorious view of the nascent Carnifex, the ritual that unlocked the first practice of deathlore.
Amberlea, Kendri, and Valingar enter from the northwest following Rashar.
"Greetings," Rashar rumbles politely.
A cloaked figure pets a wyvern spirit ingratiatingly.
You have emoted: Moirean straightens, saluting the man as well. "Roan," she murmurs in greeting.
"Not the place for you all, this," Valingar rumbles.
Valingar says, "The Carnifex have done enough in Jaru, no?"
The spectral man does not seem to overtly notice you - it's unclear if he even can - and instead he merely continues to march down the line of soldiers, nodding at one here, assessing a corpse there.
Rashar makes a quiet noise of agreement as he spins a slow circle, scanning the area and then moving to stand slightly to the right and behind Valingar.
Xenia seeming entirely in a daze, perhaps not even aware of the presence of those newly arrived, her attention being entirely on an image that perhaps only she and the other Carnifex can see.
Hugo looks on in a state of awe, "It is...glorious."
You have emoted: Moirean also ignores the new arrivals, attention raptly fixed on the scene from the past, illuminated by the chilly blue column of light arcing down from the soulstone in the distance.
Kendri lifts her nose to the air, scenting toward the strange happenings without actually moving any closer.
Apparently oblivious to his audience-from-the-future, Roan - whole, and strong, a powerful Roan, not the Roan that he became under Dhar's assault - lifts his arms in silent exultation. The spectral soldiers, Infernals, you realize, from their armor and swords, snap to attention, saluting at him in unison.
Grimdale smiles as if half remembering something, "I remember...I looked pretty good back then."
A cloaked figure murmurs to himself. "he looked good?"
You can hear nothing, but Roan's mouth is now moving. It's clear he's chanting, and instructing the ghostly soldiers. Four step forwards from the crowd. They each drag a villager with them, the only other signs of life in the spectral tableaux.
As the Infernals approach, knives are pulled and lifted to the villager's necks. In precise, militant unison, they slice the throats - and the blood fountains out, deep blue in the spectral vision. At this moment, briefly, Roan turns...and it's almost as if he can see past the vision, to all of you watching. He smiles, and in his grin is death.
And then he's back to leading the soldiers. Dozens of mouths move together in chants, while misty wisps spiral upwards towards the sky, circling the pillar of cold blue light. The air before each Knight darkens, resolving into tiny shards - soulstones, the first ones - while a larger, denser object forms above Roan's heaven-lifted arms, spinning heavier and more tangible by the second: the master soulstone, borne on the death of the villagers.
"Mm," Rashar murmurs audibly. "Much more dangerous as well, it seems."
Xenia remains near to her comrades as her knuckles whiten beneath a tightening grip upon a bardiche. The Idreth cranes her neck forward, green eyes sweeping over each of the Carnifex until at last she catches Grimdale's eye. "Wasn't Mastema in there?" she asks.
Grimdale nods his head at Xenia.
One Knight turns, breaking his spot in the ranks, as if surprised by some noise. Another turns as well, and then the source becomes clear: winding past you all, grazing you with icy whispers, come the form of ghostly hounds, heads tilted back as if howling and snarling. Each one pads up to a knight and bares its teeth, daring them to become their masters.
Roan says something - it's unclear in the silence what - but each Knight turns to the warhound before him and her, and, cruelly, callously, each in their own way, dominates the beast. Roan nods. Fierce smiles ring the circle. And then...the flames sweep past the group, obscuring the vision as the blue light slowly begins to fade.
You have emoted: Moirean lets out a pent breath, falling back a step. The gutter is full of merely dirty water once more, not frozen blood, and the air is warm again.
Satomi licks her lips slowly as she notices the number of individuals here. "Hm."
You have emoted: Moirean blinks, eyes still dazzled by the vision, and then slowly turns her attention back to the present. "Ah," she says to the new arrivals. "Hi."
Rashar raises his brows. "Mm," he agrees.
Amberlea glances up towards the rising sun.
As the images begin to fade away, Xenia becomes acutely aware of the presence of Rashar, Valingar, Kendri and finally Amberlea and where at first her expression is harsh it slowly begins to ease into something of recognition. "Ahh--" she voices out, glancing towards you, "You lot see all that too?"
"Finished reliving the glory days?" Rashar asks, spinning his axe idly in his hand. "Might be near time for you to go, I'd expect."
Kendri snarls silently from her father's side, claws digging into the dirty street.
Satomi shrugs lightly as she takes a slow step forward, sniffing curiously, before murmuring to Rashar, "Your little pup is cute."
Rashar smiles at Satomi.
You have emoted: Moirean clears her throat, dismissively looking past the southerners to address the Carnifex. "I think this gives us much to think on," she states. "It...gives me ideas. Changes. Progress." Her gaze slides over to Rashar for a moment, before it settles back on the soldiers. "A brief guild meeting is in order."
Amberlea lopes restlessly in a circle, sending up a cloud of dust.
---- travel to guildhall ----
Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the up.
A fire-lit meeting hall. (Shadow Keep.)
A glowing red flame-shaped sigil has been left here. A simple bench is here, long enough for three people. Ringed with a border of inset skulls, a firepit fills the center of the chamber.
(Carnifex): You say, "We're having a brief guild meeting at the meeting hall in the Keep."
(Carnifex): You say, "Ser Aldric, if you'd like to join us?"
(Carnifex): Aldric says, "Give me two minutes, I'm tallyin' up new bids."
Xenia slides her bardiche back away before crossing her arms and settling into a lean against the south wall.
Grimdale pats a massive bloodstone golem in a friendly manner.
Grimdale says, "We can burn next time."
Hugo grins as he enters the room a chuckle escapes his lips before erupting into a full twisted laugh.
Satomi eases over to Xenia's position before, with the help of the wall, creates a fairly sturdy block of sand to sit on. She crosses her right leg over her left and leans back semi-comfortably.
Grimdale takes a place at one of the benches, stretching out as it creaks under his weight.
Grimdale gestures and barks, "Go."
Grimdale utters a word of command to his golem.
With a guttural moan a massive bloodstone golem looks upward and then melds away into the ground.
Hugo laughs a bit longer before calming down enough to say, "Did you see it? Did you see it? The glorious uniformity of that army, killing machines every one of them!"
(Carnifex): You say, "We're having a brief guild meeting at the meeting hall in the Keep."
Grimdale says, "Eh, the Infernals were not THAT united, they did however, come together well for that cause."
You have emoted: Moirean gives a tense nod. "An army," she agrees. She slowly sweeps her gaze across the chamber, meeting each of you with a thoughtful stare. "That is who we were meant to be. That is what we were working to become."
You say, "ARE working to become."
Grimdale says, "We are a step or two better than we were, I can tell you that much."
You have emoted: Moirean nods curtly, and then points out, "But we can be better."
Grimdale nods his head in agreement.
Hugo says, "Still I wish I could have been their from the beginning."
Shaking her head, you say, "Don't focus on the past - instead, see this as a new beginning-."
The corners of Hugo's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
Hugo says, "Of course commander."
You have emoted: Moirean is suddenly interrupted by a pulsing wave of light, the same cold blue light as before. It arcs through the room, blasting at all of you with an icy gust.
It seems the master stone is not done yet with its gift.
Xenia's head wavers from side to side and she straightens a bit from her lean to peer about the room. Deciding that all is at it was, though, she resumes her previous perch.
You have emoted: Moirean blinks in astonishment as the light courses through the chamber, before it twists away with a howling roar. "Where did it go this time?!" she demands, striding to the stairs and peering down them.
You have emoted: Moirean blinks. "The Fort," she then answers herself. "Gruxmal is...irate. He sounds like a snake mated with a popped balloon."
Hugo sings, "The darkness comes strong and true, not a light in the world shall protect you."
Grimdale says, "Snake and popped balloon? I have to see this."
Aldric slides fluidly off the back of the gargantuan spider he rides upon, his boots coming into contact with the floor with a muffled thud. Seeing shenanigans going on already, he merely levels a flat stare at you before falling nonetheless in line.
Impatiently, you say, "Sss shhhshshshsssss you know how he is."
Grimdale smirks.
The Souls of Celesmas Present..
------------------------
---- Travel to the Fort ---
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the southwest.
Cavernous martial hall. (Bloodloch.)
A glowing red flame-shaped sigil has been left here. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Protected from head to toe by tattered armor, Wraithlord Gruxmal looms here. Suspended midair, an immense, multi-faceted soulstone is here, a large crack splitting it in two. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Wraithlord Gruxmal is a tutor you can learn your skills from, view HELP LEARNING for more information.
Through a yawn, evidently not quite completely awake as of yet, Aldric asks Xenia, "What've I missed?"
Before you can even get a foot in the door, Gruxmal is there, glaring at you. He points towards the second soulstone, letting out a very irritated hiss.
Xenia says to Aldric, "We gave some souls to the soulstone, now it's sending us all over Sapience to look at things. Just came from Jaru, seems it wanted us to relive the ritual in Jaru that forged the Stone. Thought it was done but seems we gotta go here now."
"It'ssss acting up," he hisses. And indeed it is - the same blue light from Jaru is now dancing about the second master stone, arcing and sizzling in an icy conduit across the facets. Most of the gleaming seems to center on the fracture in the center of the rock.
You have emoted: Moirean makes a grunting noise at Wraithlord Gruxmal, attempting to silence him. She steps closer towards the stone, reaching out to touch the crack splitting its middle, right where the light is sharpest...
Ashmer's mismatched gaze settles steadily on an immense, scarred soulstone. A rivulet of black blood leaches from the corner of his mouth, then drips to the floor.
Aldric's shoulders sag somewhat as he releases a groan before leaning sideways against Xenia in a pouty display completely unfitting for a man of his bulk.
You have emoted: ...and is immediately blasted off her feet, rocketing backwards to slam into Aldric. Moirean lets out a muffled grunt, doing her best to disentangle herself, but her protests are swiftly silenced by a sudden, sharp wail, as the light flares brighter, nearly blinding you all with the chilly blue glow.
Hugo attempts to shield his eyes from the glow.
Ashmer's black teeth bare with a hissing rasp, his lidless eye unable to shut against the flared light.
"Oof-, Pit, 'ey, got you," Aldric manages as he laces his arms under your in an attempt to help the woman easily to your feet.
As the wave of freezing light recedes, you see yourselves before you, etched out from the shadows and glints and reflected gleams of the soulstone. The scene is familiar-
"Pit!" Xenia bursts suddenly as both you and Aldric nearly knock the Idreth from her feet, and while the two of them remain balanced, she finds herself dancing foot over foot to finally land with a sickly -smacking- sound in the slowly forming black ooze of blood dripping from Ashmer's mouth.
Ashmer shifts one bare, clawed foot a few inches from Xenia's sprawled form.
There are bodies, piled before you, a mountain of denizens - some alive, some dead, some struggling to escape - and Gruxmal gleefully wading through them, arms lifted as if conducting some sort of macabre orchestra. You - the other yous - lift your own arms, soulstones spinning out into existence, and misty tendrils dance through the chamber, twisting among the spectral scene.
Nearby, a vicious warhound looses a low, rumbling growl and sniffs sharply at Xenia.
Wit ha grunt, Xenia rises to her feet, shooting Ashmer a dark look as she wipes the blood from her hands.
There are other faces in that crowd, faces you recognize as traitors - Rashar, Arbre, some mouthy kid - but all are soon eclipsed by the wraiths drawn out of the corpses, filling the vast hall with their roaming, spirits, before the spectral stones shackle them down, draining them, herding them, corralling them towards the center of the room.
Evidently caught in a game of catch-that-woman, Aldric eases his arms from you to slide fluidly towards Xenia with an extended arm. "C'mon get u-" he starts to mumble, but the pile of corpses catches his attention and slacks his jaw. Is he drooling at the corner of his mouth? Possibly.
"Or not," Aldric dismisses with a grunt.
Ashmer's only answer is a twist of his lipless mouth.
You have emoted: Moirean does her best to regain her balance as she's tossed about, but her attention is fixed mostly on the scene before her, eyes wide as she watches the very recent memory retell itself.
A vicious warhound muzzles at Xenia's leg, then up to lap some of the sticky ichor from hers fingers.
Xenia grunts something to Aldric that sounds vaguely of a confirmation, though otherwise, her attention remains fixed upon the corpses and Gruxmal's seeming enthusiasm.
The spirits begin to coalesce, just like they did in Jaru, knitting together into a massive, gleaming soulstone - but, at the last moment, as the ritual is nearly complete, something happens. A cloaked figure appears. A skeletal hand claws outwards. Mouths open in silent, angry protest. The stone...cracks.
You have emoted: "Dhar," Moirean spits, watching the vision.
Softly, Ashmer says, "So that is how it was broken."
Hugo says, "Damned jealous He is."
The cowled figure spins away, driven back by the soldiers and their souls, but not before he leaves a parting gift - suddenly, at the side of each Knight, the hounds turn, feral and rabid looks in their eyes. They begin to howl, jaws widen in silent screams, before they lunge at their masters, wild and plagued.
You have emoted: Moirean lets out a long, angry hiss, sounding positively Gruxmalian. "Dhar," she bitterly repeats.
A vicious warhound gives a soft yelp that deepens into a throaty growl.
Aldric's eyebrows draw inwards in consternation at the display, a hand reaching to to lightly rest almost reassuringly upon the back of the warhound's neck that rests so loyally by his side.
Curiously, though the scene ends, the light does not dissipate. Instead, it begins to spread, lancing out from the cracked master to twist towards each of you. Slowly, it solidifies, coalescing into thick chains visually tethering your own soulstones to this imperfect master.
You have emoted: Moirean gasps in surprise, eyes widening as she stares down at her own stone and the cold blue light snaring around it.
Ashmer clutches an immense, scarred soulstone against his armored chest, his sound eye narrowing sharply.
"'Eeey, get out'a here with that," Aldric grumbles with a swatting wave towards the ethereal light that pierces through to his soulstone.
Hugo gasps out in reflex as the chains wrap around his stone.
You have emoted: Moirean gives her head a faint shake. "It's from the master stone," she murmurs, lifting her own hand to let the light fully ensconce her stone.
The chains tighten, the light firming into something more tangible, akin to summoned soul chains. But... like the master they are knit from...each chain is incomplete and imperfect. The more solid they become, the more clear it is that each link is brittle, some even cracked. All are intact, to an extent, but none are truly adamant.
While still evidently quite reluctant, Aldric drops his hands to his sides. He eyes each brittle link that makes up the chain wrapped around his own soulstone with a wary glance.
You have emoted: Moirean forces herself to regard the links - the guild's unity itself, spelled out in souls - even though a twisted, pained expression crosses her face. She draws in a slow breath, fingers tightening until nails dig into her skin...but she does not look away.
The light pulses once, sharply, chilly, as if demanding you all the look at what it has wrought.
Hugo looks at the miserable sight with a look of pain on his face, but a determined set to his jaw keeps his eyes steady.
You have emoted: Moirean obliges, reluctantly, and then lets out a slow sigh. "We are not an army," she admits softly. "We have grown quiet, and solitary..."
With his soulstone still cradled against his collapsed chest, Ashmer reaches out and lightly caresses the ethereal chain.
The light flares again - the Commander's words have hit the mark, you sense - and then dwindles, drawing back towards the cracked master as the links slowly fade out of existence. Only a faint, flickering glow remains, licking across the cracked seam in the flawed master stone.
Aldric seems to face some sort of internal struggle in regards to whether he should speak up or not, a conflicted look seeming to dominate every facet of his countenance. He settles on silence, shoulders drooping as his focus is drawn to the cracked stone.
Just when it seems the master stone has left you with merely a bleak, sad view of the present, after the glorious vision of the past you were initially gifted with...you hear something. Quiet, faint at first, but distinct and memorable - it is the warhorn, sounded from afar.
Again, the sound rings out, louder now. The very hall around you picks up on the cry, tossing it about in echoes, until it is resounding and rebounding to shake your very bones. The war horn is blowing! The war horn is blowing!
Though the sound is muffled by the reverberating horn-call, a bone somewhere in Ashmer's scoliotic spine breaks audibly.
You have emoted: Moirean blinks, jarred out of her pathetic, self-reflecting reverie by the noise. Her head lifts. She stares at the rest of you.
Uncertainly, you say, "Is that..."
Aldric's back straightens attentively, head snapping back and forth as if to discern the intentions of those who stand beside him. "Well c'mon, horn's callin'," he finally comments with a 'let's go' sort of gesture.
The Souls of Celesmas Future..
------------------------
(Carnifex): Medeya, the Gatewarden says, "Would SOMEONE get up here and stop that racket?! It sounds like that Imp girl of yours is back, Commander. My head!"
You have emoted: Moirean blinks again, before giving a sharp nod.
Aldric pointedly says nothing at all.
Hugo feels the rhythm in his chest and help can't help but to stand up straighter.
Clinking and clacking, the portcullis slowly rolls up and locks into place. You walk through, the portcullis crashing back down behind you.
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the ether.
Between the portcullises.
Medeya, the Carnifex gatewarden stands here tall and imposing. A weapons rack of metal hounds is here, blades held firmly in iron snarls. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. Medeya, the gatewarden is a tutor you can learn your skills from, view HELP LEARNING for more information.
You give Medeya, the gatewarden a respectful salute.
Aldric snorts arrogantly at Medeya, the gatewarden.
Medeya merely points straight upwards, grimacing at the noise. The horn is, indeed, blowing, over and over, louder than it every has before, to echo across the mountains.
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the up.
Parapets above the gate. (Shadow Keep.)
Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. A murky darkness has settled in here.
You see exits leading up and down.
Aldric, Grimdale, Hugo, Satomi, and Xenia follow you to the up.
Widowmaker's walk. (Shadow Keep.)
Its pearly surface awash in icy blue light, a massive warhorn is fixed to the ground here. A murky darkness has settled in here.
As you surmount the tower, you find nobody - but that blue glow from before is omnipresent, swirling about the entire walk and watchtower in a stunning, dazzling blue glow. It's dark and light and icy hot and demanding, drawing the eye impatiently.
You have emoted: Moirean lifts one hand to shade her eyes, trying to discern what it is the stone is showing her - all of you - through the chaotic beams of cold light.
The light lingers just long enough - apparently to ensure it has your attention - before it leaps, tumbling outwards off the watchtower. But it does not just head in one direction. Instead, it splits, cascading outwards in a halo that encompasses the entire peak...and then spreads.
Aldric's eyebrows lift in a fascinated display, his head tracking each ray of light for but the briefest of moments as it curls away fro the assembled group.
As the light spreads, it grows, twisting and deepening in luster. It slams against rocks, trees, hills, and sparks violently, boiling up into a murky churn, like an avalanche gathering steam. In this growing wake, shapes form, merely boiling masses at first, but soon resolving into clear imagines.
They are soldiers, sweeping down the mountainside, ranks and ranks of soldiers marching beside each other, clad in spiked black armor and wielding hammers and halberds. At their sides, warhounds course, bounding and leaping and gnashing at the air.
It is an army, and that army is advancing on the world.
You have emoted: An impulsive, gleeful whoop escapes Moirean's lips as the vision unfolds. She punches at the air in delight.
You have emoted: As Moirean punches upwards, the soulstone in her hands sparks brightly, its own glow sharpening to match that from the master stone pouring down the mountainside.
Spittle flying, a vicious warhound lets out a sharp bark and gnashes its teeth at the air.
You soon realize each of YOUR stones are glowing as well, coldly gleaming, as faint wisps of soul stream up to reach towards hers.
Grimdale slams his massive fists together, sending sand flying, stomping the ground as he steps forward.
Aldric can't help but allow his lips to quirk upwards into a sort of proud grin as he eyes the armies stepping down the mountainside in formation. With a nod of clear approval, he lifts his soulstone forwards, its ethereal glow brightened threefold with a blinding luminosity as it's raised.
Hugo starts to laugh again the images fill him with mirth he raises his stone high to match his comrades.
Grimdale grunts as his stone bursts from his hand violently to hover glowing, by his head.
Ashmer's knuckles crumble audibly, leaving his thin, armor-backed hand a gnarled mess clutched around the shard of soulstone embedded in his hollow chest.
The eerie blue fire wisps and wavers in the gusting winds of the ledge, the flames licking higher into the air in the silence as the soulstones are raised one by one.
As your stones unite, the power of deathlore courses through you - souls fountain out, swirling about you, and then plume down the mountainside in a waterfall of cold, sinister magic. Shackled and tormented, they try to flee, but your combined might soon diverts them, driving them onwards, until even your captured victims are joining the mighty army of the Carnifex-that-could-be.
Hugo sings, "The darkness comes strong and true. Not a light in the world will protect you. No mercy resides in our still hearts. The Lady has shown us her killing arts. The carnifex ride on waves of blood. Light, fire, and forest shall drown beneath the flood!"
A palpitating tremor resonates from the leylines as a lesser focal point is tapped for its energy.
Triumphantly, you say, "The Carnifex Army! Now...let's go slaughter!"
--- And then we all bum-rushed a lesser ---
4
Comments
I'll admit, when I scented and saw you all I figured it was another cull the weak excuse to fite, but then there was an event and I was like 'omg omg gotta config enemylist off so moirean doesn't yell at me'.
We figured you'd fight at the end but I can understand why not. Oh well, it was cool to watch from our end, what little we saw anyway. Thanks for the log.