Howdy, Stranger!
Categories
- 3.7K All Categories
- 3K The Midnight Age
- 757 Announce posts
- 125 Newbies
- 6 Class Guides
- 804 Harpy's Head Tavern
- 57 Echo Canyon
- 310 Self-Affirmations
- 163 Town Crier
- 135 The Exchange
- 167 Sparring Grounds
- Combat Guides
- 30 Combat Logs
- 188 Idea Box
- 9 Classleads
- 578 Roleplay Logs
- 107 Aetolia Development
- 5 The Void
- 744 Miscellaneous
- 9 Announcements
- 417 OOC Chat
- 217 Tech Talk
- 47 Scripts
Looking for more active discussion? Join our Discord at https://discord.gg/x2s7fY6
The General Takes Her Throne
You feel an alien sense of anticipation.
Anticipation. Excitement. Nervousness. Dread.
The afternoon sun shines down, its rays broken only by the occasional wisp of cloud.
What...
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Hi."
Whom do you wish to tell?
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "My double..."
The following members of the Order of Iosyne are in the realm:
Member Rank Status
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xenia Iosyne's Voice
Ayuna an Inciter of Malice
Meltas an Enforcer of Pain
Axius an Enforcer of Pain
Cayn an Enforcer of Pain
Akimoto an Enforcer of Pain
Ephi an Enforcer of Pain
Menelaus an Enforcer of Pain
(Carnifex): You say, "Keep."
Why am I feeling this... where is my double?
(Bloodloch): You say, "Bloodloch."
(Congregation): You say, "Congregation."
(Order): You say, "Order."
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Mmm?"
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "It's gone..."
(Congregation): Menelaus says, "Lady Inciter, Hail."
Tendrils spring forth from a jewel-encrusted sacrificial dagger, enveloping all your
corpses in a whirlwind of shadows and viscera.
You hold forth the translocator, and the needle within spins rapidly before fixing on a
single point.
A murky fog arises from within the device, and you quickly walk into it.
Standing before the ebon pylon of Bloodloch
---------------------------------------
The tenebrous cavern ceiling looms ominously high overhead. Mogrov Raf sits amongst the
crates and barrels of his shipment here, inspecting his manifest with a narrowed eye.
Stretching toward the cavern ceiling, a basalt pylon etched with red runes is here. A
statue of Ulgar, father of all Trolls is here, one arm extended toward the sky. Unthig
looks around dimly. A stout donkey stands patiently by, waiting for a burden. Shifting in
and out of phase with reality, a harlequin portal floats in the air here. Resting on the
ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular
monolith is on the ground. A simple chair stands here. A small wooden pyramid has been
left here.
(Bloodloch): Cayn says, "Pit, look how bloody many we are this week."
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Gone gone or just missing?"
You feel the sentience in the back of your mind awaken, merging with your consciousness.
Hot, burning pain erupts in your lower body as your melded mind begins reshaping your
body. You feel your legs begin to expand and swell, pushing against your skin.
Unable to contain the mounting pressure anymore, your skin bursts in a shower of blood and
bone. You fall forward onto your elbows as your body mutates, eight spindly black legs
erupting from the tattered remains of your natural legs.
You push yourself back up to rest upon your eight legs as an arachnoid thorax and abdomen
burst free, completing your transformation into a Chiav.
(Bloodloch): Ensis says, "Many moving parts."
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "It is not
responding..."
You press your hand against the ground, feeling the tremours to pinpoint your location.
Whom do you wish to tell?
Satisfied with your bearings, you dig underground with alarming speed.
Deep underground
----------------
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Where is it at?"
(Bloodloch): Cayn says, "Some kid wants a Bloodbath. Any of you able to make that happen?"
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "IF I KNEW THAT I
WOULD NOT BE FREAKING OUT."
Ayuna searches every room of the Malevolent's Lair frantically.
An uncomfortable vision passes through your senses, an unwelcome glimpse through the eyes
of something else.
Underground. A bowl-shaped pit. Walls ringed with shadows.
Shadows roll off your gown, rising above you to display a glowing insignia of crossed
fists before dissipating.
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "I didn't do anything to it."
Overlooking a bowl-shaped pit
-----------------------------
Rimming the chamber is a crowd of shadowy forms, erratic and vaguely humanoid in outline.
Empty of eyes and appearing as a shadowy wraith with a mask for a face, a double of Ayuna
is here.
You listen intently for an instant of silence. Finding it, you focus on it and its
clarity, protecting your mind against corruption.
You ask a shadow double of Ayuna, "Why did you run off?"
The tall form of this eerie shadow double hovers here weightlessly, appearing as a white
mask with a billowing cloak of pure shadow as its body. The stark mask, bearing the wooden
features of Ayuna, is pure white and empty of eye, molded into the exact shape of the
likeness it was created from. Below the mask, a shifting blanket of shadow dangles near
the ground, like an amorphous cloak whose shape is in constant flux. The thing makes no
sound, and moves from place to place in a weightless glide.
It is strangely weightless.
It is loyal to Lady Ayuna Vyktaire, Tainted Dreadknight.
You tilt your head curiously at a shadow double of Ayuna.
A shadow double of Ayuna didn't seem to be expecting you. It jumps in surprise, glancing
furtively back at you, before abruptly flinging itself into the depths as it ENTERs the
PIT.
You step through a bowl-shaped pit.
A bloody and chaotic battlefield
------------------------------
Dripping black ichor, a heaping skeleton of bone creates a construct from the earth here.
Empty of eyes and appearing as a shadowy wraith with a mask for a face, a double of Ayuna
is here. A red haze has been carried in on a faint breeze, coating everything in a light
mist of blood.
The stark whiteness of a thick fog surrounds the battlefield, muffling the sounds of some
distant battle. As your feet touch down upon the trampled grass, a spray of fine red mist
lightly coats your skin, smelling unmistakably of blood.
(Tells): Despot Issril Etysul tells you, "When you are ready to leave the battlefield,
TELL ISSRIL LEAVE and I will pull you out."
Distaste warps a shadow double of Ayuna's face as it notices you again. It moves quickly,
away from you, pushing through fog.
You stare at a shadow double of Ayuna and blink.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "I found it, but I
have a strange feeling about this."
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Oh?"
Ayuna follows a shadow double of Ayuna through the fog, keeping it in clear sight.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "It seems mad at me,
or disgusted."
Your unhurried steps allow a shadow double of Ayuna to slip further and further away,
threatening to vanish from sight.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against a shadow double of Ayuna's mind,
"Come here."
It is now noon on Gosday, the 13th of Khepary, year 488 of the Midnight Age.
You grab protectively at a shadow double of Ayuna.
A shadow double of Ayuna no longer seems to listen to you. As your hand finds its
shoulder, it freezes abruptly, going deathly still.
The scream of a dying individual rises above the din, its source eerily familiar to
someone you know.
The mask turns to face you. Slowly. With foreboding finality. "Hello," comes a shadow
double of Ayuna's low, raspy voice.
Ayuna tilts her head, studying details. "Hello," she whispers, watching with caution
and curiosity.
A shadow double of Ayuna hisses as you repeat its words, twisting out of your grasp. It
bobs up and down in the air, contorting its shadow body into all manner of unnatural
configurations. "Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, HELLO, HELLO," it rasps all the while.
A sound reminiscent of a pair of boulders crashing together echoes from below you.
Ayuna blinks. "Who are you?" she whispers, cautiously watching but never wavering.
A shadow double of Ayuna stops its sick dance at that. It leans in towards you. "Who are
YOU?"
Ayuna tilts her head, analyzing the unspoken cues. "Ayuna Vyktaire." She squints her eyes
suspiciously, "Or are you asking the sum of who I am?"
A spark of light blinks suddenly in front of your eyes then fades away into a subtle
afterimage.
"AyUnA vYkTaIrE," a shadow double of Ayuna mocks. The mask twists grotesquely sideways,
neck bending unnaturally, horizontally.
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Ayuna smirks. "Almost. You'll have to work on your pronunciation, but close." She stands
tall. "A name and a face are not what make us who we are, though."
A soft, verdant glow dances across the horizon, intermingling with the sun high above.
Eerie laughter erupts from a shadow double of Ayuna at that, giggles high-pitched and
distorted. Without de-escalation, they abruptly end. "Did you wonder, Ayuna Vyktaire? As
you spilled your thoughts to me?"
Ayuna nods. "About a few things, yes. At times, but not at first, I'll admit. However,
which wondering do you refer to?"
Shadows roll off your gown, rising above you to display a glowing insignia of crossed
fists before dissipating.
A chartreuse curvilinear shape appears before your eyes before disappearing.
A shadow double of Ayuna's neck flops backwards at that, the double shrieking in
uncontrollable laughter. The mask bobs back and forth atop its springy neck, rhythmically
back and forth like a deranged toy.
Again, the motion stops without warning. "When I would replace you," a shadow double of
Ayuna finally answers, tone serious.
Ayuna tilts her head to the side, watching closely. "Our greatest ally is our greatest
enemy, right?" She smirks. "How could you replace me? You could never fill my capacity no
matter how much you study me."
A sudden rumbling seizes the continent of Sapience, shuddering briefly as the earth heaves
against itself in a fitful tremor.
A shadow double of Ayuna leans in close to you, mask pressing hard into your face. That
elicits flashes; memories of intense, searing pain as you recall how it felt on the other
side the mask. "I am you," it hisses softly - you feel every movement of the mouth hole
against your own lips.
Ayuna returns to an expressionless face. "How much of me?"
"All of you," a shadow double of Ayuna contorts, still pressed right against you. "Your
weakness. Your insecurities. Your doubts. Your failures. Would-be Primus. All of you."
Is that all of you?
Inelegant patterns of green light dance across the horizon in a show of brilliance before
quickly fading away.
A chartreuse curvilinear shape appears before your eyes before disappearing.
Ayuna blinks. "Then you fail to understand who I am," she hisses in response.
"Do I? Or do you fail to understand who we really are?" a shadow double of Ayuna fires
back.
Ayuna watches closely, never moving as she analyzes the words hissed against her. "You
are missing the guide, the motivator, the Tainted Knight, the almost second ascended,
the best ylemmer in Sapience. You have not explained my loyalties, my drive, my taste for
blood, and the fact that when I do something, everyone in Sapience is affected by it."
She hisses coldly. "Weaknesses, insecurities, doubts and failures, failing people at one
angle... they are all just stepping stones of Pain to learn from."
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Hideous laughter rolls off a shadow double of Ayuna again, sending vibrations running
through your body. "We shall see," it declares before pushing harder against you.
An astral storm rumbles loudly from the swirling sky high above your head.
And then - a shadow double of Ayuna passes into you, becoming you.
Ayuna rolls her eyes. "Every time something tries to break me, it says we shall see."
Internal conflict as you feel your double within you. Fighting for control. Replacing you.
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Will you succumb to your weakness, Ayuna Vyktaire?
Ayuna plants herself in this spot, not leaving for the moment. "Try me."
Do you desire Power, Ayuna Vyktaire?
You have emoted: Ayuna blinks. "Only if it is earned."
Have you earned it, Ayuna Vyktaire?
It is now dusk on Gosday, the 13th of Khepary, year 488 of the Midnight Age.
Ayuna flexes her muscles, sensing her body for the intrusion. "Everything has been earned."
A green bubble seems to un-pop in mid-air and floats to the ground where it slowly
contracts into a small rock.
Your double ceases struggling within you. All your experiences, your weaknesses, your
Pain. They drive you forward.
You are transported by the power of the Divine.
Before the sadistic throne of the General
-----------------------------------
A silent, wiry man is on his hands and knees, serving as a footrest to the throne. Despot
Issril Etysul is here. Dripping black ichor, a heaping skeleton of bone creates a
construct from the earth here. A sharp-edged and angular onyx throne awaits the General.
Jarva Ruek is here. Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs is here, every movement showcasing his
roughshod demeanour. Displaying rows upon rows of jagged teeth, a shark-mutated warhound
is here. Ominiously silent, a mahogany warhound stands here, teeth bared. Xenia is here.
The sleek, muscular form of the Goddess Iosyne is here.
Xenia comes skittering in, flanked by a trio of hounds - one of which is particularly
mutated and shark like - maneuvering herself to stand amidst Issril, Jarva and Draden.
There amidst them the Chiav's arms come up and cross over her chest, displaying the
Malevolent's insignia. "I felt Your heed," she says, eyes all for Iosyne, "I am here afor
You as ever, Malevolent."
Iosyne stands in Her humanoid form, held upright by only a single pair of bare feet. Heat
radiates off Her, intense beside the Chiav carrying Her heart. "Tell me of Ayuna Vyktaire,
Voice."
She is an Immortal and is nearly seven feet in height, shaped like a strongly-built
athletic woman. Her heart-shaped face is angular, with Her eyes replaced by glowing white
orbs, often narrowed into a stern glare. Glistening with a sheen of moisture upon it, Her
radiant, ebony skin is barely clad in an ornamental covering of crimson silks and gold-
plated armaments and bangles. She walks barefoot, and possesses four lean arms, with the
second pair emerging just beneath the first. A haze of creeping shadows partially swathes
Her form, surrounding Her like a heavy fog, and partially melding with the wild,
voluminous mane of crimson-streaked black hair cascading from Her shoulders and down Her
bare back. A pronounced gap is above Her left breast, where Her heart would be - instead,
there is a black diamond-shaped hole, out of which emerges smoky tendrils of shadow.
(adorning the wrists) : thin gold wrist bangles
(covering Her lower body) : a scant crimson loincloth with gold
adornments
(at the back of the neck) : a black-inked tattoo of a pair of crossed
fists
(upon Her body) : a crimson silk top with gold adornments
"Ayuna I have watched from afar," Xenia answers, turning her eyes towards the woman in
question. "One whom I tested in the process of carving and claiming my power. She has a
backbone, one stronger than most," is the summarization made, "Ayuna grows, she
understands the importance of leading by example, of hacking ones own path in order to
steer and guide whomever chooses to follow. Admittedly I was unsure when first I slumbered
if another would cast a shadow or if the shade of my own would remain stagnantly over
Yours. Ayuna has risen up as a pillar against the light, her shadow will grow and I am
curious to see how far."
Ayuna remains silent, taking in the scenery of the questioning from the Malevolent and the
direct response of the Voice in front of her. Analyzing every detail, she waits, watching
carefully.
"High praise," Iosyne nods to Xenia before Her gouged orbs fix on you. The Goddess pads
forward, each step slow, steady, purposeful. "Are you ready to seize your due, Ayuna
Vyktaire?"
Iosyne says, "Is your shadow the one that will envelop the world?"
Xenia dips her head to Iosyne's remark, otherwise silent while her hands rest at her back,
folded. Attention goes all for you, four eyes to be exact, unblinking in their intense
stare as answer is awaited.
Ayuna locks eyes with Iosyne this time, her posture held stronger than the inquiry
beforehand. "It is time. This time, I am ready," she whispers, confidence shining through
her otherwise expressionless face.
Iosyne's steps stop directly before you. Two hands reach to seize your head on each side,
the other two motioning to the Malevolent's gathered Acolytes. "Then My Voice has spoken."
Tears flow freely from your eyes as your beloved God promotes you to the General.
Facing you, Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs slams his crossed fists on his chest, saluting you
with the Malevolent's insignia.
Facing you, Jarva Ruek slams his crossed fists on his chest, saluting you with the
Malevolent's insignia.
Facing you, Despot Issril Etysul slams her crossed fists on her chest, saluting you with
the Malevolent's insignia.
Ayuna stiffens with the acknowledgement of her new position. Her eyes drift to all those
in attendance before she allows a quick smile.
You slam your crossed fists on your chest, emulating the Malevolent's insignia.
Iosyne releases you. "Your throne awaits."
You settle upon the throne of the General, propping your feet up on the man serving as
your footrest comfortably.
The earth trembles from the depths of the Lair as the Malevolent's General claims her
throne.
Xenia glances towards the throne then back to you, head ticking aside like a bird of
sorts, "Well done, General," she states, head tipping forward, "embrace the pain in
leadership. Lead with equality. Shape the world with your power."
(Order): Meltas says, "Whats this now."
Meltas enters from the west, riding a white spirit fox.
(Order): Xenia says, "A new general has ascended Her throne."
Ayuna nods towards Xenia. "There is no other way, and no room for stagnation."
You have recovered balance on all limbs.
(Order): Menelaus says, "Congratulations, General."
(Order): Axius says, "Congratulations, General."
(Order): Iosyne says, "The General has been appointed. With her, new representatives will
soon rise as well."
Tendrils of palpable energy disintegrate into the air around you as the major focal point
collapses inward on itself. A surge of energies spill forth in a wash of crackling,
untempered power from the Aureliana Forest and leave your flesh tingling. A few motes of
pale, dying light flicker out of existence in eerie silence about you.
You incline your head politely to a figure shrouded by steam.
(Order): Meltas says, "Quite the occasion, indeed, congratulations."
A figure shrouded by steam turns to you and delivers a fleeting smile, fangs gleaming.
(Order): You say, "Thank you."
A figure shrouded by steam inclines his head politely to those around him.
(Order): Akimoto says, "Congrats."
A figure shrouded by steam inclines his head politely to those around him.
Meltas leaves to the west, riding a white spirit fox.
Ayuna takes a moment to settle into a sadistic throne. "This is quite the painful throne
otherwise."
A smile crosses Iosyne's face as you takes the throne, baring Her sharpened teeth in
satisfaction. "Cast your shadow, General. You will have new representatives alongside you.
I would hear your thoughts on such."
"It is your throne," Xenia states, pausing on her words when Iosyne speaks Her own. This
seems to be on the cusp of the Chiav's thoughts nodding agreement in the curiosity.
Ayuna considers thoughtfully. "Each and every Order member has an attribute unique unto
their own. Each has room to be shaped into a fair Inciter, but despite a few very recent
trials that I have seen, the most consistent to spread Your Rules and bring in Congregants
to be molded to shape the world have been both Meltas and Arahali."
A large, writhing tentacle deposits Meltas before retreating back underground.
You smirk at a figure shrouded by steam.
Menelaus enters from the west, riding an austerely-armored donkey.
Menelaus gracefully hops off of an austerely-armored donkey.
Menelaus slaps an austerely-armored donkey on the rump and sends it trotting off.
"Hail!" Menelaus exclaims loudly, raising his hand.
You incline your head politely to Menelaus.
"Your efforts have caught attention beyond just Mine," Iosyne notes to a figure shrouded
by steam, approaching as the tentacle slithers back underground. "The General names you as
her first representative."
Xenia looks towards the cavern's mouth watching as Menelaus and a figure shrouded by steam
make their way to stand before the throne. It's the latter she focuses in on, peering
through the steamy swaths of air at the figure shrouded beneath it.
Menelaus smiles at a figure shrouded by steam and simply says, "Well done, Grand Sire." as
if this were merely a matter of course.
Ayuna catches a figure shrouded by steam through the steam by the eyes, as if all too familiar
with seeing past the steam. She gives a knowing glance, words unspoken but clear as day.
It is now midnight on Closday, the 14th of Khepary, year 488 of the Midnight Age.
(Bloodloch): A humble bellman says, "Midnight is upon us."
After the long silence, Iosyne turns back to you. "It will take time to sink in,
apparently."
Shadows roll off your gown, rising above you to display a glowing insignia of crossed
fists before dissipating.
Iosyne gives a token of the Malevolent's esteem to Meltas.
Iosyne gives a token of the Malevolent's esteem to you.
After a moment's consideration, Iosyne includes Menelaus as well. "Seems I never provided
you with your own item, Enforcer Mine."
Iosyne gives a token of the Malevolent's esteem to Menelaus.
Ayuna nods towards Iosyne. "He may be in shock, Malevolent."
A figure shrouded by steam blinks.
A figure shrouded by steam coughs softly.
Xenia watches the proceedings with a detached air, nodding towards you and then a figure
shrouded by steam. "The Order grows and you have represented the Malevolent loyally. Use
Her esteem wisely. Ensure that it yields something that will ensure Her mark is felt in
Sapience."
A figure shrouded by steam bows respectfully.
a figure shrouded by steam is not the only one in shock as Menelaus's countenance breaks
into one of many expressions before saying, "Thank you very much, Malevolent!"
A figure shrouded by steam coughs softly.
Iosyne says, "You have earned it. Do any of you have anything else for Me?"
"Ah," Ayuna intones, "seems the shock has worn off. Thank you for the gift, Malevolent."
Gazing at a figure shrouded by steam, she smirks. "Have you processed yet?"
A figure shrouded by steam blinks a few times as he is stirred out of his daze. "Forgive
me Malevolence, seems I was lost in thought." He nods towards you, "It would seem so." A
small smirk on his lips.
A figure shrouded by steam looks towards you "Thank you, General" He says, his voice stern
and confident as he regains his composure.
Still a bit of refining needed, but a good choice and loyal.
A figure shrouded by steam peers at you suspiciously.
A figure shrouded by steam smirks.
You smirk.
Did you expect any less, Meltas?
(Tells): Through the ether, Meltas utters to you, "Refinement....you speak as though
you've years on me. haha, I appreciate it though."
Before your eyes, the form of the Malevolent begins to change, Her lower body distorting
and shifting into a different shape altogether. Obscured only partially by the haze
wreathing Her form, Her lower body elongates and widens into an arachnid thorax, six
longer legs growing to join Her existing two. The grotesque transformation is complete in
the span of seconds, giving the Goddess a greater height than before.
Xenia just thought:
Who all has learned to bite, I wonder.
Xenia just thought:
Surely the General, and the Bloodletter.
You smirk at Xenia.
Lost in her thoughts, Xenia does not notice your attention, eyes lifted now to the great
cavernous ceiling.
Settled back into Her more familiar form, Iosyne gives each of you once last affectionate
nod before departing. The smirks plastering everyone's faces brings one to Her own, just
visible before She leaves.
Iosyne warps out of perception, Her monstrous form separating into inky threads of shadow
which slither away in different directions.
You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.
Meltas morphs before your eyes, taking on the form of Alikahn.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Meltas's mind, "Some things I will
always be there to help you on, Meltas."
Eventually, Xenia shakes her head, looks towards you and says, "General, I take my leave."
Then to a figure shrouded by steam, "Inciter."
Xenia presses her hand against the ground, a look of deep concentration crossing her face.
Satisfied with her bearings, Xenia digs underground with alarming speed, disappearing from
sight.
A figure shrouded by steam snaps his fingers.
A figure shrouded by steam says, "She's too fast."
A figure shrouded by steam snickers under his breath.
Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs laces his thumbs together, fingers fully extended, to form the
vague shape of a spider with his hands. Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs wriggles his fingers,
making the 'spider legs' dance. Spooky!
Looking a bit restless, Draden takes off in an easy jog to the west.
Jarva Ruek slams his crossed fists on his chest, emulating the Malevolent's insignia.
Quickly and discreetly, Jarva leaves the area.
The corners of Menelaus's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
A figure shrouded by steam says, "Silly Jarva, Issril, it's good to see you alert."
A figure shrouded by steam smiles and says, "It's been too long."
You say, "Since I woke this week, something felt different. This explains much."
A figure shrouded by steam says, "Surely the shadows that embrace your form must be
growing as you grow, yes?"
Menelaus's starry eyes fall on a token of the Malevolent's esteem in complete admiration.
You obscure yourself from casual observation, becoming a figure wrapped in darkness.
Menelaus ponders the situation.
A figure shrouded by steam claps his hands together merrily.
You say, "One would only assume."
A figure shrouded by steam shrugs helplessly.
A figure shrouded by steam says, "It's part of the fun."
A figure shrouded by steam taps his nose knowingly.
Menelaus stares off into space lost in thought.
You say to a figure shrouded by steam, "As long as one does not assume to know Her purpose
for things."
You tap your nose knowingly.
A figure shrouded by steam shrugs helplessly.
Anticipation. Excitement. Nervousness. Dread.
The afternoon sun shines down, its rays broken only by the occasional wisp of cloud.
What...
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Hi."
Whom do you wish to tell?
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "My double..."
The following members of the Order of Iosyne are in the realm:
Member Rank Status
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xenia Iosyne's Voice
Ayuna an Inciter of Malice
Meltas an Enforcer of Pain
Axius an Enforcer of Pain
Cayn an Enforcer of Pain
Akimoto an Enforcer of Pain
Ephi an Enforcer of Pain
Menelaus an Enforcer of Pain
(Carnifex): You say, "Keep."
Why am I feeling this... where is my double?
(Bloodloch): You say, "Bloodloch."
(Congregation): You say, "Congregation."
(Order): You say, "Order."
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Mmm?"
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "It's gone..."
(Congregation): Menelaus says, "Lady Inciter, Hail."
Tendrils spring forth from a jewel-encrusted sacrificial dagger, enveloping all your
corpses in a whirlwind of shadows and viscera.
You hold forth the translocator, and the needle within spins rapidly before fixing on a
single point.
A murky fog arises from within the device, and you quickly walk into it.
Standing before the ebon pylon of Bloodloch
---------------------------------------
The tenebrous cavern ceiling looms ominously high overhead. Mogrov Raf sits amongst the
crates and barrels of his shipment here, inspecting his manifest with a narrowed eye.
Stretching toward the cavern ceiling, a basalt pylon etched with red runes is here. A
statue of Ulgar, father of all Trolls is here, one arm extended toward the sky. Unthig
looks around dimly. A stout donkey stands patiently by, waiting for a burden. Shifting in
and out of phase with reality, a harlequin portal floats in the air here. Resting on the
ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular
monolith is on the ground. A simple chair stands here. A small wooden pyramid has been
left here.
(Bloodloch): Cayn says, "Pit, look how bloody many we are this week."
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Gone gone or just missing?"
You feel the sentience in the back of your mind awaken, merging with your consciousness.
Hot, burning pain erupts in your lower body as your melded mind begins reshaping your
body. You feel your legs begin to expand and swell, pushing against your skin.
Unable to contain the mounting pressure anymore, your skin bursts in a shower of blood and
bone. You fall forward onto your elbows as your body mutates, eight spindly black legs
erupting from the tattered remains of your natural legs.
You push yourself back up to rest upon your eight legs as an arachnoid thorax and abdomen
burst free, completing your transformation into a Chiav.
(Bloodloch): Ensis says, "Many moving parts."
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "It is not
responding..."
You press your hand against the ground, feeling the tremours to pinpoint your location.
Whom do you wish to tell?
Satisfied with your bearings, you dig underground with alarming speed.
Deep underground
----------------
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Where is it at?"
(Bloodloch): Cayn says, "Some kid wants a Bloodbath. Any of you able to make that happen?"
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "IF I KNEW THAT I
WOULD NOT BE FREAKING OUT."
Ayuna searches every room of the Malevolent's Lair frantically.
An uncomfortable vision passes through your senses, an unwelcome glimpse through the eyes
of something else.
Underground. A bowl-shaped pit. Walls ringed with shadows.
Shadows roll off your gown, rising above you to display a glowing insignia of crossed
fists before dissipating.
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "I didn't do anything to it."
Overlooking a bowl-shaped pit
-----------------------------
Rimming the chamber is a crowd of shadowy forms, erratic and vaguely humanoid in outline.
Empty of eyes and appearing as a shadowy wraith with a mask for a face, a double of Ayuna
is here.
You listen intently for an instant of silence. Finding it, you focus on it and its
clarity, protecting your mind against corruption.
You ask a shadow double of Ayuna, "Why did you run off?"
The tall form of this eerie shadow double hovers here weightlessly, appearing as a white
mask with a billowing cloak of pure shadow as its body. The stark mask, bearing the wooden
features of Ayuna, is pure white and empty of eye, molded into the exact shape of the
likeness it was created from. Below the mask, a shifting blanket of shadow dangles near
the ground, like an amorphous cloak whose shape is in constant flux. The thing makes no
sound, and moves from place to place in a weightless glide.
It is strangely weightless.
It is loyal to Lady Ayuna Vyktaire, Tainted Dreadknight.
You tilt your head curiously at a shadow double of Ayuna.
A shadow double of Ayuna didn't seem to be expecting you. It jumps in surprise, glancing
furtively back at you, before abruptly flinging itself into the depths as it ENTERs the
PIT.
You step through a bowl-shaped pit.
A bloody and chaotic battlefield
------------------------------
Dripping black ichor, a heaping skeleton of bone creates a construct from the earth here.
Empty of eyes and appearing as a shadowy wraith with a mask for a face, a double of Ayuna
is here. A red haze has been carried in on a faint breeze, coating everything in a light
mist of blood.
The stark whiteness of a thick fog surrounds the battlefield, muffling the sounds of some
distant battle. As your feet touch down upon the trampled grass, a spray of fine red mist
lightly coats your skin, smelling unmistakably of blood.
(Tells): Despot Issril Etysul tells you, "When you are ready to leave the battlefield,
TELL ISSRIL LEAVE and I will pull you out."
Distaste warps a shadow double of Ayuna's face as it notices you again. It moves quickly,
away from you, pushing through fog.
You stare at a shadow double of Ayuna and blink.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "I found it, but I
have a strange feeling about this."
(Tells): Rhyot tells you, "Oh?"
Ayuna follows a shadow double of Ayuna through the fog, keeping it in clear sight.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Rhyot's mind, "It seems mad at me,
or disgusted."
Your unhurried steps allow a shadow double of Ayuna to slip further and further away,
threatening to vanish from sight.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against a shadow double of Ayuna's mind,
"Come here."
It is now noon on Gosday, the 13th of Khepary, year 488 of the Midnight Age.
You grab protectively at a shadow double of Ayuna.
A shadow double of Ayuna no longer seems to listen to you. As your hand finds its
shoulder, it freezes abruptly, going deathly still.
The scream of a dying individual rises above the din, its source eerily familiar to
someone you know.
The mask turns to face you. Slowly. With foreboding finality. "Hello," comes a shadow
double of Ayuna's low, raspy voice.
Ayuna tilts her head, studying details. "Hello," she whispers, watching with caution
and curiosity.
A shadow double of Ayuna hisses as you repeat its words, twisting out of your grasp. It
bobs up and down in the air, contorting its shadow body into all manner of unnatural
configurations. "Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, HELLO, HELLO," it rasps all the while.
A sound reminiscent of a pair of boulders crashing together echoes from below you.
Ayuna blinks. "Who are you?" she whispers, cautiously watching but never wavering.
A shadow double of Ayuna stops its sick dance at that. It leans in towards you. "Who are
YOU?"
Ayuna tilts her head, analyzing the unspoken cues. "Ayuna Vyktaire." She squints her eyes
suspiciously, "Or are you asking the sum of who I am?"
A spark of light blinks suddenly in front of your eyes then fades away into a subtle
afterimage.
"AyUnA vYkTaIrE," a shadow double of Ayuna mocks. The mask twists grotesquely sideways,
neck bending unnaturally, horizontally.
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Ayuna smirks. "Almost. You'll have to work on your pronunciation, but close." She stands
tall. "A name and a face are not what make us who we are, though."
A soft, verdant glow dances across the horizon, intermingling with the sun high above.
Eerie laughter erupts from a shadow double of Ayuna at that, giggles high-pitched and
distorted. Without de-escalation, they abruptly end. "Did you wonder, Ayuna Vyktaire? As
you spilled your thoughts to me?"
Ayuna nods. "About a few things, yes. At times, but not at first, I'll admit. However,
which wondering do you refer to?"
Shadows roll off your gown, rising above you to display a glowing insignia of crossed
fists before dissipating.
A chartreuse curvilinear shape appears before your eyes before disappearing.
A shadow double of Ayuna's neck flops backwards at that, the double shrieking in
uncontrollable laughter. The mask bobs back and forth atop its springy neck, rhythmically
back and forth like a deranged toy.
Again, the motion stops without warning. "When I would replace you," a shadow double of
Ayuna finally answers, tone serious.
Ayuna tilts her head to the side, watching closely. "Our greatest ally is our greatest
enemy, right?" She smirks. "How could you replace me? You could never fill my capacity no
matter how much you study me."
A sudden rumbling seizes the continent of Sapience, shuddering briefly as the earth heaves
against itself in a fitful tremor.
A shadow double of Ayuna leans in close to you, mask pressing hard into your face. That
elicits flashes; memories of intense, searing pain as you recall how it felt on the other
side the mask. "I am you," it hisses softly - you feel every movement of the mouth hole
against your own lips.
Ayuna returns to an expressionless face. "How much of me?"
"All of you," a shadow double of Ayuna contorts, still pressed right against you. "Your
weakness. Your insecurities. Your doubts. Your failures. Would-be Primus. All of you."
Is that all of you?
Inelegant patterns of green light dance across the horizon in a show of brilliance before
quickly fading away.
A chartreuse curvilinear shape appears before your eyes before disappearing.
Ayuna blinks. "Then you fail to understand who I am," she hisses in response.
"Do I? Or do you fail to understand who we really are?" a shadow double of Ayuna fires
back.
Ayuna watches closely, never moving as she analyzes the words hissed against her. "You
are missing the guide, the motivator, the Tainted Knight, the almost second ascended,
the best ylemmer in Sapience. You have not explained my loyalties, my drive, my taste for
blood, and the fact that when I do something, everyone in Sapience is affected by it."
She hisses coldly. "Weaknesses, insecurities, doubts and failures, failing people at one
angle... they are all just stepping stones of Pain to learn from."
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Hideous laughter rolls off a shadow double of Ayuna again, sending vibrations running
through your body. "We shall see," it declares before pushing harder against you.
An astral storm rumbles loudly from the swirling sky high above your head.
And then - a shadow double of Ayuna passes into you, becoming you.
Ayuna rolls her eyes. "Every time something tries to break me, it says we shall see."
Internal conflict as you feel your double within you. Fighting for control. Replacing you.
Stumbling through the fog, the hazy image of an armored and bloody foot soldier enters the
clearing. The stark details of his pale, shaken visage are incredibly clear despite the
evidence that he is some sort of image or phantasm. As he reaffirms his grip on his sword
he unleashes a mighty, soundless warcry, and plunges back into the fog.
Will you succumb to your weakness, Ayuna Vyktaire?
Ayuna plants herself in this spot, not leaving for the moment. "Try me."
Do you desire Power, Ayuna Vyktaire?
You have emoted: Ayuna blinks. "Only if it is earned."
Have you earned it, Ayuna Vyktaire?
It is now dusk on Gosday, the 13th of Khepary, year 488 of the Midnight Age.
Ayuna flexes her muscles, sensing her body for the intrusion. "Everything has been earned."
A green bubble seems to un-pop in mid-air and floats to the ground where it slowly
contracts into a small rock.
Your double ceases struggling within you. All your experiences, your weaknesses, your
Pain. They drive you forward.
You are transported by the power of the Divine.
Before the sadistic throne of the General
-----------------------------------
A silent, wiry man is on his hands and knees, serving as a footrest to the throne. Despot
Issril Etysul is here. Dripping black ichor, a heaping skeleton of bone creates a
construct from the earth here. A sharp-edged and angular onyx throne awaits the General.
Jarva Ruek is here. Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs is here, every movement showcasing his
roughshod demeanour. Displaying rows upon rows of jagged teeth, a shark-mutated warhound
is here. Ominiously silent, a mahogany warhound stands here, teeth bared. Xenia is here.
The sleek, muscular form of the Goddess Iosyne is here.
Xenia comes skittering in, flanked by a trio of hounds - one of which is particularly
mutated and shark like - maneuvering herself to stand amidst Issril, Jarva and Draden.
There amidst them the Chiav's arms come up and cross over her chest, displaying the
Malevolent's insignia. "I felt Your heed," she says, eyes all for Iosyne, "I am here afor
You as ever, Malevolent."
Iosyne stands in Her humanoid form, held upright by only a single pair of bare feet. Heat
radiates off Her, intense beside the Chiav carrying Her heart. "Tell me of Ayuna Vyktaire,
Voice."
She is an Immortal and is nearly seven feet in height, shaped like a strongly-built
athletic woman. Her heart-shaped face is angular, with Her eyes replaced by glowing white
orbs, often narrowed into a stern glare. Glistening with a sheen of moisture upon it, Her
radiant, ebony skin is barely clad in an ornamental covering of crimson silks and gold-
plated armaments and bangles. She walks barefoot, and possesses four lean arms, with the
second pair emerging just beneath the first. A haze of creeping shadows partially swathes
Her form, surrounding Her like a heavy fog, and partially melding with the wild,
voluminous mane of crimson-streaked black hair cascading from Her shoulders and down Her
bare back. A pronounced gap is above Her left breast, where Her heart would be - instead,
there is a black diamond-shaped hole, out of which emerges smoky tendrils of shadow.
(adorning the wrists) : thin gold wrist bangles
(covering Her lower body) : a scant crimson loincloth with gold
adornments
(at the back of the neck) : a black-inked tattoo of a pair of crossed
fists
(upon Her body) : a crimson silk top with gold adornments
"Ayuna I have watched from afar," Xenia answers, turning her eyes towards the woman in
question. "One whom I tested in the process of carving and claiming my power. She has a
backbone, one stronger than most," is the summarization made, "Ayuna grows, she
understands the importance of leading by example, of hacking ones own path in order to
steer and guide whomever chooses to follow. Admittedly I was unsure when first I slumbered
if another would cast a shadow or if the shade of my own would remain stagnantly over
Yours. Ayuna has risen up as a pillar against the light, her shadow will grow and I am
curious to see how far."
Ayuna remains silent, taking in the scenery of the questioning from the Malevolent and the
direct response of the Voice in front of her. Analyzing every detail, she waits, watching
carefully.
"High praise," Iosyne nods to Xenia before Her gouged orbs fix on you. The Goddess pads
forward, each step slow, steady, purposeful. "Are you ready to seize your due, Ayuna
Vyktaire?"
Iosyne says, "Is your shadow the one that will envelop the world?"
Xenia dips her head to Iosyne's remark, otherwise silent while her hands rest at her back,
folded. Attention goes all for you, four eyes to be exact, unblinking in their intense
stare as answer is awaited.
Ayuna locks eyes with Iosyne this time, her posture held stronger than the inquiry
beforehand. "It is time. This time, I am ready," she whispers, confidence shining through
her otherwise expressionless face.
Iosyne's steps stop directly before you. Two hands reach to seize your head on each side,
the other two motioning to the Malevolent's gathered Acolytes. "Then My Voice has spoken."
Tears flow freely from your eyes as your beloved God promotes you to the General.
Facing you, Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs slams his crossed fists on his chest, saluting you
with the Malevolent's insignia.
Facing you, Jarva Ruek slams his crossed fists on his chest, saluting you with the
Malevolent's insignia.
Facing you, Despot Issril Etysul slams her crossed fists on her chest, saluting you with
the Malevolent's insignia.
Ayuna stiffens with the acknowledgement of her new position. Her eyes drift to all those
in attendance before she allows a quick smile.
You slam your crossed fists on your chest, emulating the Malevolent's insignia.
Iosyne releases you. "Your throne awaits."
You settle upon the throne of the General, propping your feet up on the man serving as
your footrest comfortably.
The earth trembles from the depths of the Lair as the Malevolent's General claims her
throne.
Xenia glances towards the throne then back to you, head ticking aside like a bird of
sorts, "Well done, General," she states, head tipping forward, "embrace the pain in
leadership. Lead with equality. Shape the world with your power."
(Order): Meltas says, "Whats this now."
Meltas enters from the west, riding a white spirit fox.
(Order): Xenia says, "A new general has ascended Her throne."
Ayuna nods towards Xenia. "There is no other way, and no room for stagnation."
You have recovered balance on all limbs.
(Order): Menelaus says, "Congratulations, General."
(Order): Axius says, "Congratulations, General."
(Order): Iosyne says, "The General has been appointed. With her, new representatives will
soon rise as well."
Tendrils of palpable energy disintegrate into the air around you as the major focal point
collapses inward on itself. A surge of energies spill forth in a wash of crackling,
untempered power from the Aureliana Forest and leave your flesh tingling. A few motes of
pale, dying light flicker out of existence in eerie silence about you.
You incline your head politely to a figure shrouded by steam.
(Order): Meltas says, "Quite the occasion, indeed, congratulations."
A figure shrouded by steam turns to you and delivers a fleeting smile, fangs gleaming.
(Order): You say, "Thank you."
A figure shrouded by steam inclines his head politely to those around him.
(Order): Akimoto says, "Congrats."
A figure shrouded by steam inclines his head politely to those around him.
Meltas leaves to the west, riding a white spirit fox.
Ayuna takes a moment to settle into a sadistic throne. "This is quite the painful throne
otherwise."
A smile crosses Iosyne's face as you takes the throne, baring Her sharpened teeth in
satisfaction. "Cast your shadow, General. You will have new representatives alongside you.
I would hear your thoughts on such."
"It is your throne," Xenia states, pausing on her words when Iosyne speaks Her own. This
seems to be on the cusp of the Chiav's thoughts nodding agreement in the curiosity.
Ayuna considers thoughtfully. "Each and every Order member has an attribute unique unto
their own. Each has room to be shaped into a fair Inciter, but despite a few very recent
trials that I have seen, the most consistent to spread Your Rules and bring in Congregants
to be molded to shape the world have been both Meltas and Arahali."
A large, writhing tentacle deposits Meltas before retreating back underground.
You smirk at a figure shrouded by steam.
Menelaus enters from the west, riding an austerely-armored donkey.
Menelaus gracefully hops off of an austerely-armored donkey.
Menelaus slaps an austerely-armored donkey on the rump and sends it trotting off.
"Hail!" Menelaus exclaims loudly, raising his hand.
You incline your head politely to Menelaus.
"Your efforts have caught attention beyond just Mine," Iosyne notes to a figure shrouded
by steam, approaching as the tentacle slithers back underground. "The General names you as
her first representative."
Xenia looks towards the cavern's mouth watching as Menelaus and a figure shrouded by steam
make their way to stand before the throne. It's the latter she focuses in on, peering
through the steamy swaths of air at the figure shrouded beneath it.
Menelaus smiles at a figure shrouded by steam and simply says, "Well done, Grand Sire." as
if this were merely a matter of course.
Ayuna catches a figure shrouded by steam through the steam by the eyes, as if all too familiar
with seeing past the steam. She gives a knowing glance, words unspoken but clear as day.
It is now midnight on Closday, the 14th of Khepary, year 488 of the Midnight Age.
(Bloodloch): A humble bellman says, "Midnight is upon us."
After the long silence, Iosyne turns back to you. "It will take time to sink in,
apparently."
Shadows roll off your gown, rising above you to display a glowing insignia of crossed
fists before dissipating.
Iosyne gives a token of the Malevolent's esteem to Meltas.
Iosyne gives a token of the Malevolent's esteem to you.
After a moment's consideration, Iosyne includes Menelaus as well. "Seems I never provided
you with your own item, Enforcer Mine."
Iosyne gives a token of the Malevolent's esteem to Menelaus.
Ayuna nods towards Iosyne. "He may be in shock, Malevolent."
A figure shrouded by steam blinks.
A figure shrouded by steam coughs softly.
Xenia watches the proceedings with a detached air, nodding towards you and then a figure
shrouded by steam. "The Order grows and you have represented the Malevolent loyally. Use
Her esteem wisely. Ensure that it yields something that will ensure Her mark is felt in
Sapience."
A figure shrouded by steam bows respectfully.
a figure shrouded by steam is not the only one in shock as Menelaus's countenance breaks
into one of many expressions before saying, "Thank you very much, Malevolent!"
A figure shrouded by steam coughs softly.
Iosyne says, "You have earned it. Do any of you have anything else for Me?"
"Ah," Ayuna intones, "seems the shock has worn off. Thank you for the gift, Malevolent."
Gazing at a figure shrouded by steam, she smirks. "Have you processed yet?"
A figure shrouded by steam blinks a few times as he is stirred out of his daze. "Forgive
me Malevolence, seems I was lost in thought." He nods towards you, "It would seem so." A
small smirk on his lips.
A figure shrouded by steam looks towards you "Thank you, General" He says, his voice stern
and confident as he regains his composure.
Still a bit of refining needed, but a good choice and loyal.
A figure shrouded by steam peers at you suspiciously.
A figure shrouded by steam smirks.
You smirk.
Did you expect any less, Meltas?
(Tells): Through the ether, Meltas utters to you, "Refinement....you speak as though
you've years on me. haha, I appreciate it though."
Before your eyes, the form of the Malevolent begins to change, Her lower body distorting
and shifting into a different shape altogether. Obscured only partially by the haze
wreathing Her form, Her lower body elongates and widens into an arachnid thorax, six
longer legs growing to join Her existing two. The grotesque transformation is complete in
the span of seconds, giving the Goddess a greater height than before.
Xenia just thought:
Who all has learned to bite, I wonder.
Xenia just thought:
Surely the General, and the Bloodletter.
You smirk at Xenia.
Lost in her thoughts, Xenia does not notice your attention, eyes lifted now to the great
cavernous ceiling.
Settled back into Her more familiar form, Iosyne gives each of you once last affectionate
nod before departing. The smirks plastering everyone's faces brings one to Her own, just
visible before She leaves.
Iosyne warps out of perception, Her monstrous form separating into inky threads of shadow
which slither away in different directions.
You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.
Meltas morphs before your eyes, taking on the form of Alikahn.
(Tells): On a soft, clicking whisper, you hiss against Meltas's mind, "Some things I will
always be there to help you on, Meltas."
Eventually, Xenia shakes her head, looks towards you and says, "General, I take my leave."
Then to a figure shrouded by steam, "Inciter."
Xenia presses her hand against the ground, a look of deep concentration crossing her face.
Satisfied with her bearings, Xenia digs underground with alarming speed, disappearing from
sight.
A figure shrouded by steam snaps his fingers.
A figure shrouded by steam says, "She's too fast."
A figure shrouded by steam snickers under his breath.
Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs laces his thumbs together, fingers fully extended, to form the
vague shape of a spider with his hands. Draden "the Mauler" Jibbs wriggles his fingers,
making the 'spider legs' dance. Spooky!
Looking a bit restless, Draden takes off in an easy jog to the west.
Jarva Ruek slams his crossed fists on his chest, emulating the Malevolent's insignia.
Quickly and discreetly, Jarva leaves the area.
The corners of Menelaus's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
A figure shrouded by steam says, "Silly Jarva, Issril, it's good to see you alert."
A figure shrouded by steam smiles and says, "It's been too long."
You say, "Since I woke this week, something felt different. This explains much."
A figure shrouded by steam says, "Surely the shadows that embrace your form must be
growing as you grow, yes?"
Menelaus's starry eyes fall on a token of the Malevolent's esteem in complete admiration.
You obscure yourself from casual observation, becoming a figure wrapped in darkness.
Menelaus ponders the situation.
A figure shrouded by steam claps his hands together merrily.
You say, "One would only assume."
A figure shrouded by steam shrugs helplessly.
A figure shrouded by steam says, "It's part of the fun."
A figure shrouded by steam taps his nose knowingly.
Menelaus stares off into space lost in thought.
You say to a figure shrouded by steam, "As long as one does not assume to know Her purpose
for things."
You tap your nose knowingly.
A figure shrouded by steam shrugs helplessly.
8
Comments
Or eats the teacher, whatever.