Just A Flesh Wound

Bulrok

Backstory: Bulrok started off in the congregation of Bamathis. During the War of Might and Strife, Chakrasul started toying around with Bul's head, and by the end of it, had converted him to her side. Bulrok met a girl, Swara, starting falling madly in love, and Chakrasul started using her against him. She gave him a task, and anytime he was slacking, Chak threatened her to motivate him. Task was finally finished, but Bulrok hadn't heard from Chakrasul or Rijetta in a few weeks. His paranoia was on high alert, because Chakrasul had been in his head a lot, and now she wasn't.

Note: This was immediately after @Robyn 's log, so there's a lot of commotion going on and a lot of premotes at the start of the log.

Burlok's thoughts are marked with a * at the start.

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Swara snickers softly, eyeing you.

You say to Swara, "What would you like to go do, love?"

In a murmur, Liarra says, "Speaking of biting..."

Mjoll chomps her teeth together on empty air.

A creeping sense of despair hedges into your mind and as the pit begins to manifest in your stomach, you find you're able to smell something sickly sweet; death.

Liarra smirks at Mjoll.

Axius peers about herself suspiciously.

Swara says to you, "Anyth..."

You shudder violently as a chill ripples down your spine.

Swara clears her throat.

Mjoll shivers visibly.

Axius says, "Wh...the pit was that?"

Swara says to you, "Anything you'd like."

Liarra picks up a headless corpse.

With a lustful grin Liarra drives her fangs into a vein of the corpse of a giddy Tsinkin attendant
and, slurping greedily, draws out its still-warm blood from the wound in long, deep, sucking pulls. Finally satisfied, she casually discards the corpse.

Axius snickers under her breath.

Bulrok wraps his arm around Swara tightly, his eyes scanning the area as he remains quiet.

Axius chews thoughtfully on a small kawhe candy lollipop.

Kandara frowns as she lifts her head and sniffs carefully at the air.

Liarra slips up to Axius quite cozily, "Care for a drink?"

You feel distinctly short of breath for a moment or two, gulping deep lungfuls of air reflexively
before the sensation passes.

Axius rolls a small kawhe candy lollipop around inside of her mouth, the stick shifting and
wriggling between her lips as she eyes up Liarra curiously. She asks, "So... can I guess that
whatever that scent was..it came from you?"

Axius snickers under her breath.

Axius peers at an onyx and jade teacup suspiciously.

Axius chews thoughtfully on a small kawhe candy lollipop.

Liarra tilts her head curiously and asks, "Scent?"

Axius looks about herself, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

Swara says, "The smell of death."

Axius says, "Looks like my kawhepot decayed. I've got plenty to drink though."

Axius takes a vibrant blue glass bottle from a woven hand basket.

Axius sips from a vibrant blue glass bottle full of rich kawhe whiskey.

"Heh heh heh," Axius chuckles.

Kandara pauses, before lofting her reptilian brow. "Makes my scales tingle." Kandara would
momentarily grunt before going back to casually sniffing the air.

Axius says, "..or I forgot it in my kitchen. Would not doubt I did that. Should check later."

Liarra smirks at Kandara.

Swara murmurs to you, "I wouldn't mind stealing some kisses. If I get a pick."

The corners of Swara's mouth turn up as she grins mischievously.

Pondering Axius intently, Liarra sucks thoughtfully on her teeth.

Swara murmurs to you, "Just not at the gate."

Axius says, "In any case, I'm quite content with my kawhe whiskey. At least while I lack any Kawhe
in my preferred cup here."

Axius snickers under her breath.

Liarra beckons to Axius, "Come?"

Axius says, "And worst case scenario, I want something a bit heavier.. I keep liquid death in one of
my glass vials."

Axius peers about herself suspiciously.

Axius says, "Why not? Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

Liarra leaves to the southeast, followed by Axius.
She is followed by a massive twin-tailed demon cat and an undead minion.

Bulrok snaps back to focus, looking at Swara with a little bit of shock in his eyes. "Oh.." He blinks, nodding. "Of course."

Kandara seems confused as she turns a slow circle before flopping on the ground. "I can't tell where
it's coming from. It's like the weird whispers from last week...and the jade trail."

You say, "Jade trail?"

Swara raises an eyebrow at Kandara.

Mjoll asks Kandara, "How about the butterfly?"

Kandara says, in a feral tongue, "Yeah it was jade essence. I couldn't follow it however. No
butterflies."

You narrow your eyes to thin slits.

Swara says, "Huh."

Swara looks about herself, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

You say, "Jade essence and butterflies?"

Kandara says, in a feral tongue, "No butterflies."

Mjoll nods her head at you.

You raise an eyebrow at Mjoll.

Darkness conceals the source of a loudly snapping twig behind you.

Mjoll shrugs helplessly.

Mjoll nods her head emphatically.

"I'm.." Bulrok starts as he looks around uncertainly. "Gods. I am incredibly paranoiad." he says, not finishing his first train of thought.


Kandara reaches up and rubs her muzzle as she turns her head in the direction of your voice. "And I'm going crazy!" She would singsong rather cheerfully before turning giving the air one last tentative sniff before going back to stretching out on the ground.

"Try to relax, Ser" Mjoll rumbles with a grin.

Swara says, "Not too much though. The guards here apparently enjoy shaving people."

The loud sound of thunder rolls through the skies, shaking the air around you.

Casting a glance around at each guard, Mjoll rumbles, "I dare 'em."

Mjoll wrinkles her nose and sniffs.

Mjoll says, "I need to patrol."

Mjoll dashes off, definitely \not\ scared of suddenly going bald.

Swara's eyes sparkle with amusement.

An unseen person mutters out from somewhere behind you, "Better run."

*Relaxation refuses to come to Bulrok, his thoughts drifting to Her and Swara-

You say, "Voltda."
You quickly utter the phrase and see a sulfurous hole open in the ground before you. Without
hesitation, you jump in.
Swara follows you to the ether.
Within the Death Caves.
Magical darkness enshrouds this area. A black rhinoceros is here, pawing at the ground. A surplus Bloodlochian milita pack lies here. A single stocking has been hung up here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest, west, northwest, and up.

Swara follows you to the south.
A crack in the mountainside.
A granite monument stands here, its surface polished to a shine. A pike with a shriveled head has been stuck here as warning to any intruder who would dare enter Bloodloch. White wings draping like a cloak over its back, a gryphon stands tall here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular
monolith is on the ground.
You see exits leading north and south.

A ring of jade flames erupt around Swara and begins to shrink rapidly around her. Unholy tongues of emerald fire leap upwards into the heavens above as they reach Swara, setting her alight. Screams of agony, like a benediction to suffering itself, fill the air as she fades amidst the acrid smoke and smell of charred flesh.

Bulrok begins panting as he stops, having reached just outside the city. "Pit-".

You say, "FUCK."

You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Swara.
You see that Swara is at A sunken ritual chamber in the Isle of Despair.
You detect 1 other person in that location.

More running.

The throne room.
The Throne of Corruption stands here, its obsidian magnificence a shadowed praise to the Dark Lady.
A large book sits on a wrought iron stand. A large mural is hung on display above the southern
doorway. A statue of a duskywing sits here, impaled by a longsword engraved with "SS". A large,
black-marble altar rests here.
You see exits leading north and south (open pine door).

As the prism tattoo's shape is codified, the last of the ink leaves the air, and you pause for a
moment to admire your handiwork.

You use Tattoos Prism.
You touch the prism tattoo and suddenly a razor-thin beam of prismatic light shoots off into the distance.

An irresistible force pulls you along to the other end of the prismatic light.
A sunken ritual chamber.
This marble chamber has been filled with a dark liquid that seems to writhe of its own accord.
Various niches in the walls have been carved, holding many different colored candles which provide a dim light to the otherwise lightless room. Each wall bears different murals, the scenes depicting the tale of Tiyen Indoron, the northern wall depicting the castle itself in shadowed glory. Rotted corpses and old bones sit piled against the southern wall, blood fresh and old staining them. Dark liquid laps at the cold marble, the scent of decay rising from the pool of liquid Corruption. Glittering in the dim light is a diamond-bladed knife. Swara is here. Duskywing butterflies flit lazily around the form of Chakrasul, Goddess of Corruption here.
There are no obvious exits.

Chakrasul continues to swirl Her slender fingers through the writhing liquid that is cupped at the center of the ritual chamber, Her eyes remaining downcast, even with your arrival. The dim light makes it hard to catch Her expression, but the flickering candles at the edges of the room barely reach Her.

Bulrok enters, breathing heavily as beads of sweat begin to form across his temple.
"Mot-Mother." he manages in between breaths. He glances around as he tries to catch his breath and figure out what is going on.

Swara's grey gaze falls to the liquid and she stares at it for a time before looking back to
Chakrasul. One hand lifts to nervously rub the back of her neck as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

You cannot decide if the blackness hedging into the edges of your vision is from the darkness of the room, or if it's because your heart is beating so incredibly fast. Either way, the hammering in your ears is beginning to make you dizzy.

Bulrok sways for a moment, a hand reaching out to the nearest wall to steady
himself. He continues to try, unsuccessfully, to catch his breath. Instead his breathing increases
as his eyes go in and out of focus. He shakes his head, doing his best to stand up right, returning his gaze towards the Goddess.

"Suppose I best get on with it, then." Chakrasul decides and Her white gown ripples like water
around Her small frame as She fluidly rises to Her full height. "My soldier here - My Dark
Chaplain," She begins conversationally as Her bare feet glide Her around the pool's edge and towards Swara, "Performed a task for Me." She still seems to be completely ignoring you with those luminous eyes locked only on Swara. "He, and My Voice, put the journey into words. Unfortunately for you, his Harrowing was easy. A buildup of torment, of hunger, of malice." As She continues Her explanation, She finds Herself before Swara. "At the end, the final step." Her voice drops low as She ushers on a raw, dark whisper, "The Breaking." Her hands snap forward to grab Swara and She spins her so Swara's spine is pinned against Her chest, facing her towards you. The little Goddess peeks over the mortal's shoulder, now finally looking at you. A glimmer in the darkness suggests a smile as the faint candlelight reflects off of pearly fangs.

Panic. Panic is the first thing you feel rising in your chest and with it comes a shortness of
breath.

Bulrok barely moves, fear rooting him to the spot. His breathing sporadic, as if he
had never done it before and was only just learning how today. The fear keeps him silent, as he
stares towards Swara, confusion and worry intermingling in the expression across his face.

At first Swara's attention is diverted from the Goddess by the physical struggle you seems to be
having, her gaze focused on him as, "Love?" comes from her lips in a concerned whisper. Then her attention is caught once more by Chakrasul, a lump rising in the woman's throat at the Goddess's words, she backs away, slowly as Chakrasul speaks but to no avail and she soon finds herself in a hopeless position. Her eyes lock on you and she wriggles against Chakrasul's grasp, desperation flashing in her eyes as she shakes her head. "No... don't..." her voice is quiet, a mixture of fear, anger, a twinge of hatred furrowing her brow.

The absolute silence of the room makes the intimate whisper of Chakrasul seem deafening. "Come now. Do you want to halt the progress of your beloved?" The Immortal poses the question to Swara and Her chin grazes Swara's shoulder as She cants Her head enough to cast a sidelong glance to the mortal in Her grasp. "You hate Me, of that matters not. But I expect you to support him in his faith. He seeks Might in its truth. To protect you. To protect the Keep. To protect Bloodloch. His faith." Lower still, She manages to speak. "If you could turn him against Me, would you?" Her smile widens and She unfurls Her wings to balance Her tiny frame against the struggling mortal - though, the power radiating off of Her suggests it's simply part of Her facade.

The chamber groans in protest as jade essence splinters across every wall and as it begins to writhe along the slick surface, it brings with it the sickly sweet smell of decay.


Swara swallows loudly, flinching at the words spoken by Chakrasul, her efforts to escape weaker now, almost as if she's going through the motions of a dance she knows will inevitably end in failure. "It's been... everything I can do to..." she grits her teeth, turning her face away from the Goddess to stare at a wall. "I feel -anything- but protected," she whispers, not attempting to stifle the fear in her voice. "I doubt the strength offered."

*Bulrok's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, each one clashing into the other, the resulting collision causing an explosion that gives birth to a hundred more. As he fights to calm his mind, finally he sees what's right in front of him. Swara held by Chakrasul. He scrambles his thoughts, trying to clear his mind again. As they refocus, he sees the same two again. Only this time it's Swara holding Chakrasul, the roles reversed. Confusion runs rampant across his thoughts, crashing the imagery and reshaping them again. Chakrasul holding Swara's life, Swara holding Chakrasul's. This happens a thousand times, over and over until it finally just...stops.


Bulrok swallows, his breathing still out of control, but slowing a little. He looks
towards Swara, pushing off the wall as he stands, still swaying a little, disbelief in his eyes as
she speaks.

The sigh that escapes Chakrasul is forlorn; disappointed even. "A body must be broken, muscles tornand strengthened, to create a warrior. Days upon weeks upon months of gruelling training goes into the making of a soldier's body. Do you think it just... Materialises? No." She shoves Swara into your arms now, Her displeasure apparently in the sneer that crawls across Her mouth. "What good, then, is a strong body with a weak mind, Swara? No amount of pure muscle will win a war. If Enorian marched on Bloodloch today, and they took you from him... And he does..." She waves an absent hand at you, "This? He freezes? Tsk." She glides towards the pair of you now, Her feet moving but making no sound. "No. I will hone his mind. I will break it. I will rebuild it - again, and again, and again. Until fear cannot be used against him. Until he acts with malice first. Until he craves the challenge. Until. He. Breathes. It." The ending is delivered on a chilling hiss and you're immediately alarmed as the Immortal manifests a jade blade that gleams as She twirls it in Her palm. "Whether I like it or not - whether you like it or not - I will also strengthen you, Swara. Your resolve. Your hatred." Her verdant gaze snaps to you and She offers the dagger to you.

Chakrasul says, "Make your choice, My Dark Chaplain."

Kill. Kill. Kill. No! You love her, your sweet beloved... Your anchor. Your warmth. Yet... You're
momentarily overwhelmed by a series of familiar visions; fighting beside Chakrasul with a weapon of Corruption and as your Goddess dances across the field, spitting curses and swinging Her scythe, you feel Might. It's pure. There is no insecurity - there is no question of your worth. You know your strength. You will. Give. Everything. Anything. More images topple over it, each one a continuation of the last.

Swara pulls away from your arms, opting to remain standing beside you though her form trembles. Her words are shaky but somehow firm as she says, "I asked only for love, not protection. I never asked for protection, I never said I -needed- it."

Eventually, the hammering of your heart drowns everything out. Every sound. Every vision. Yet, a decision you still have to make. Fight, or flight?

Sweat rolls down your spine, it beads on your upper lip and you shake with the magnitude of the moment playing out before you.

Chakrasul's eyes remain locked on you, as if she's waiting for... Something. Goading. Tormenting. But Her words are for Swara, "Then you know him little, child. For protecting is his nature. For battle, is his nature. For fighting for what he believes in is... Everything. With that love, comes his undying protection. For you, or Me."

You have emoted: Bulrok stares at Swara for a long moment. His eyes are almost blank as he does. Without saying anything, he turns towards Chakrasul, reaching for the blade that rests in Her outstretched hand. "I cannot stop now, Swara. The strength you doubt is mine, not Hers." He glances up at Chakrasul, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I told You I would not dissappoint You."

"Because I hate Her, because She preys on people, exploits their weaknesses," Swara's voice is low but it grows less shaky, despite the dread on her face. Not so much a cry for mercy as a plea for understanding. "Ever downward, 'Rok," she mutters, simply standing in place, eyes fixed on you.

The sneer that was plastered on Chakrasul's face finally shatters and in its place; a dark, twisted
smile. "I never doubted it." The Goddess croons and She releases the blade into your possession
before She steps back and, with a grand sweep of Her arm She encourages you with an echo of
agreement to Swara. "Ever downwards."

As Bulrok grips the cold, jade athame, the dark whispers covering it rise and whisp
away, the jade essence along the blade revealing itself. He moves towards Swara slowly, still
gripping the weapon. His body has finally relaxed, his breathing normal. He stops in front of Swara, his free hand raising to her chin. He leans in slowly, his voice calm. "I love you." he whispers. As he does, he goes to plunge the dagger into Swara.

Swara doesn't flinch, simply reaches out and curls her fingers around your wrist as the dagger is thrust forward, not to stop it, almost to guide it or perhaps follow its progress. The look of betrayel in her eyes is only outdone by the pain as she murmurs in a guttural tone, "Know that this is why."

Morose, anguished howls follow the death of Swara as her life abruptly ends during Bulrok's trial of Might.
Your ally has fallen at A sunken ritual chamber.

Disregarding the blood that begins to bloom across the pure white fabric of Her gown, Chakrasul slides Her arms beneath Swara's now dead body and cradles it as She turns and walks towards the pool. One step after the other, the Immortal walks until She is at the center and as She crouches down, She closes Her eyes.

(Tells): In a deep, gravelly voice, Iesid imparts to you, "Heartless git."

(Tells): Liarra whispers into your consciousness, "Mm, congratulations."

Chakrasul picks up the corpse of Swara.

It's soft at first, but you recognise the language leaving Chakrasul's lips as Kalsu and although
Her expression is one of twisted delight - pride, even - the words are spoken with a surprising
tenderness.

Power radiates off of Chakrasul as She wills Swara's rattling breath. A heartbeat. A rising of her
chest. Verdant eyes look down at the limp mortal and before she can come to, the Goddess is already departing the pool of Corruption. Dark tendrils writhe after the Divine, some of them clinging to Her even as Her back foot leaves the waters. "She has Might, My soldier." The Goddess croons as She hands Swara with a foreign gentleness to you. "In time, you will be a formidable pair. For now, My concern is only you."

Although you feel it - you feel the despair, the heartache - and you know you will need to make this up to Swara, yet... Yet you are at ease. The fear She held over you has gone, as if you admitted it, claimed it, and mastered it all before Her. That's when it washes over you. Pride. She graces you with a bolstering of pure Might, it washes through your lungs, it whorls around your veins and it wraps around your heart as it beats steadily. Progress.

Chakrasul, Goddess of Corruption has invited you to join the Divine Order of Chakrasul, Goddess of Corruption and awaits a response.
AGREE if you wish to join the order.

(Chosen): Chakrasul says, "Welcome, My Dark Chaplain."

Bulrok's eyes close for a moment, his breathing slow enough to appear as if he
wasn't. He opens them slowly, looking towards Chakrasul. "Thank You, Mother. I will continue my journey down Your Spiral."


Bulrok flicks his gaze towards Swara for a brief moment, almost afraid to look the
woman in the eye.

Swara takes a couple minutes to come fully to, regaining her bearings as her eyes slowly flutter
open. She pulls away from you, staring after Chakrasul with a wordless frown.

Chakrasul's head dips into a small, gracious nod. For now, She does not wear malice, nor fear or despair. Only an archaic power radiates off of Her and She pushes some of Swara's hair away from her face. "She will not know it for some time, Mine, but she wears My favor. She was your biggest weakness, it was the only trial fitting enough." One. Two steps back and the Goddess gestures towards a hidden stair that leads up and out of the chamber. "She will hate Me for longer yet. It is a burden I will carry to ensure your growth, Dark Chaplain." The whisper is raw and everything about its delivery speaks a truth to your heart. "For now. Go home."

You nod your head emphatically.

On a low, husky whisper, Chakrasul says, "You need but speak of having desires to claim - near the duskywing trio. That is the exit of the sanctuary."

You say to Swara, "I can..if you want..I could take you back home."

She still doesn't understand.

Nothing but pure disgust radiates from Swara at the touch from Chakrasul, but she remains silent for a time, clenching her jaw. "I think I've had enough help from you for now, thanks," she finally snaps at you. Then she inclines her head toward Chakrasul, voice oozing hatred as she murmurs, "Goddess."

Swara leaves to the up.

You roll your eyes.

Around a dark chuckle, Chakrasul says, "Before you go after your beloved, Mine. The last piece."
Upturning a hand, jade essence coalesces into a small trinket which Chakrasul presses into your palm after taking your hand. "Wear it." The command is simple and She has already vanished into the darkness around you before you can even blink. Yet, Her voice whips past your ears. "A love earned is a love cherished. This is not the first time your faith will rock the boat, My soldier. But I have ensured it will be the hardest. It is only easy breathing from here."

You swell with pride as the tiny duskywing butterfly within the cage responds to you by exploding into motes of jade light, recognizing you as one of Her Chosen.
You are now wearing an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly.

As the jade motes of light begin to float towards the bottom of the miniature cage, they coalesce into the form of the metaphysical butterfly and it begins to flit lazily within its enclosure.

You say, "Voltda."
You quickly utter the phrase and see a sulfurous hole open in the ground before you. Without
hesitation, you jump in.