A ritual of winter's dreaming

Sibatti

On the final day of Haernos before the turn of the new year, there is a ritual held in the Northern Ithmia to promote renewal, rest, and connection with winter.


Note: there are a lot of eating/drinking/smoking messages I cut out just for readability's sake, but you can assume that people are doing this a lot throughout.

Petrified Clearing in the Ithmia.
The morning sun struggles to pierce the veil of thick, black clouds, edging their dark shapes in silver. The thick tangles of trees appear to have been blasted by some almighty force, rendering them mere splinters. A wide clearing, bearing many scorch marks, is all that remains of the copse of trees which once stood here, a testament to the infernal power which smited them from existence. Around the edge of the clearing, the plants which grow appear even now to shrink back from the scene of this carnage as if appalled by what has transpired here long ago. Along the periphery a number of stumps, rent and sharp edged remain, which upon closer examination appear to have been somehow petrified by the force of the blast. The only sound in this still and blighted spot is the occasional snuffling from the north, emanating from an ominous-looking den in the earth. Going to mulch to replenish the soil, sprawling lupin fills the air with the damp scent of decaying vegetation. Hackles raised, an adult grey wolf sniffs the air for enemies.
You see a single exit leading south.

Lin shows up not too long after your announcement, and of course, she is ever in the company of an immense, three-eyed rojalli. Both cat and rider come to a skidding halt, and situate themselves on the forest floor, next to you.

Pilar enters from the south, riding a giant, black-furred wolf.

Aithinne arrives from the south.

Once she has shooed her wolf companion away, Pilar steps towards her sisters with a soft smile and arms open as if to give both you and Lin a hug, "Glad to see you both!"

Ayanala steps through a fold in reality.

Pressing the open palm of her left hand against the clenched fist of her right, Ayanala bows respectfully.

Ayanala's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Aithinne presses the open palm of her left hand against the clenched fist of her right and bows respectfully to Ayanala.

A biting cold hangs in the air, heralding the arrival of Aisling.

You have emoted: Sibatti reaches up with one arm in Pilar's direction, from her seat on the ground. The faun is short enough that she almost makes it to her shoulder, though not quite. "Welcome, sister." She spies Aithinne and Ayanala's entrances as well, nodding to them and adding separately, "Welcome."

Aithinne is mostly quiet, seemingly content to observe the others in the clearing.Sister Ayanala Elistar, Blood Monk says to Aithinne, "Thank you, Sister."

Pilar is quite happy to be received by both you and Lin, replying, "When have I not been ready to embrace him?" Grinning, she draws away from the two women and back toward the little crowd, taking Aisling's side when she sees him.

Aisling approaches the edges of the clearing, his lips curling in a small smile at the sight of Pilar. He bends down as the woman approaches, pressing a kiss to her hair, and then afford you and Lin an incline of his head in greeting.

Votary Aithinne Fiadhaich says to Ayanala, "Of course."

Votary Aithinne Fiadhaich murmurs something softly to Ayanala.

Ayanala nods her head at Aithinne sagely.

Sister Ayanala Elistar, Blood Monk says to Aithinne, "It is!"

"It suits you," Aithinne says to Ayanala after a moment of studying her clothing.

Pilar looks quite pleased with Aisling's kiss to her crown and slips her arm around his to draw closer.

Lin crouches on her haunches, arms slung over her upraised knees, retaining a space next to you. Her tail sweeps the forest floor, brushing aside fallen leaves or bits of detritus.

Ayanala gives a quick spin to show off her attire and grins at Aithinne. "It does, doesn't it?" laughing softly she turns her gaze back to those gathered. "Eventually, I'll have to get a cloak or something..."

You shout, "The council of Duiran welcomes the deepest day of winter's bleeding by ritual today. We breathe her crisp air exhaled from trees made of starlight, and seek to embrace the stardust within our bones. Should you wish to bear witness to this ritual, it is open for respectful observation, to any who wish to pay tribute to this most transformative of months: sacred and starry Haernos."

Ivutop Wo Atdumsa Ere Mor, Zenobia Cardinalis's voice resonates across the land, "BLEEDING, I know bleeding .. is this the day you .. are female or ya get blooded or .. ooh ya invite to be BLED??"

You shout, "You may find our assembly in the Northern Ithmia, should your mind also seek to spill its ink into the night sky."

Oonagh arrives from the south.
Stigandr arrives from the south.

Stigandr tucks himself into his cloak and watches quietly.

Shining with a blazing light, Didi strides in from the south.
She is followed by a diminutive nightingale, a floating eye, a striped raccoon, and a three-legged cat.

Xavin arrives from the south.

You nod your head at Xavin.

Grake arrives from the south.

Xavin nods his head at you.

Grake pats Didi in a friendly manner.

Kitza arrives from the south.

Pilar looks about the crowd curiously as more people arrive.

Stigandr leans idly against his staff, taking in the various faces in the room.

Sister Ayanala Elistar, Blood Monk says, "New places, new faces."

Oonagh secures his scimitars, leaning against one of the petrified logs that have settled in this clearing, a broad smile and nod towards you as he quietly listens and observes the presentation. His expression is almost studious, like a student eager to learn.

Aisling remains by Pilar's side, his attention largely on the faun and on you, in wait.

Ahlysaaria adjusts her glasses.

Pilar flicks her ear and frowns briefly at something unheard.

You have emoted: The clearing of the Ithmia is a barren and scorched environ. It is within the blasted clearing that Sibatti has chosen to sit, the natural clearing suitable for a large gathering of people. "Welcome, brothers and sisters of the realm. If you wish, join me to create a sacred space in this circle. Find something comforting to eat, drink, or smoke - this is a time for rest and relaxation."

You sip from a wide clay cup overflowing with pale, freshly-brewed lehag, the broth feeling warm despite being closer to room temperature. There is a strange herb combination in the pale brew, alien and bitter at the back of the tongue.

Kitza just thought:
Something to eat? Are we supposed to... cook the raccoon?

Kitza just thought:
Oh it's a pet. Better not.

Stigandr actually draws the leather cord on his scabbard over the hilt to keep it locked, after being prompted to create a peaceful area.

Ahlysaaria adjusts her glasses to look at Lin for a long moment before tearing her gaze away to the things provided.

Pilar reaches into the breast of her robes to retrieve a quartz vial of inky black 'Shade of Dendara' rum and pops the top to have a quick sip.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "This all seems like it's going to go better if I'm not sober."

Stigandr smirks.

Ayanala gives a weatherworn wineskin to Stigandr.

Stigandr thanks Ayanala sincerely.

Stigandr tilts his head and listens intently to you.

Ayanala smiles at Stigandr.

Aisling reaches for his belt, finding a bronze case there, about palm size. He opens it to fish out a cigarette, taking his time to light it.

You have emoted: Sibatti sets a yarrow root a few inches before where she is seated. She lights a charcoal with a strike of flint and smoke, the burning coal breaking the clumpy mass of herbs and summoning a subtly earthy scent to the senses.

You say, "Winter is a time to make medicines. It is not the time of doing. It is a time of dreaming and dissolving into the void."

Aithinne glances thoughtfully into the cup, swirling it for a moment before lifting it to her lips for a small, almost tentative sip.

You fill your pipe with an opium poppy.

You take a long drag of a long-stemmed recreational smoker's pipe.

Lin just thought:
[She wills her mind to clear, beginning gradually to set aside certain plans, certain worries,
certain thoughts.].

Aithinne just thought:
I can't even remember the last time I had something alcoholic.

Pilar glances up at Aisling in genuine surprise and watches the man have his smoke, her expression soon melting to that of light amusement. Only when you begins speaking does she turn her attention back to the woman in the clearing and she swings her remaining ear around to listen.

Aisling keeps the cigarette held between two fingers, indulging in one drag, the smoke escaping from his mouth and his nose in the next exhale. He watches you, some effort gone into easing his posture, that his shoulders ease and he shifts his footing.

You have emoted: Sibatti pauses from speaking her blessing of the space to light and smoke a pipe, after stuffing it with opium. Her gaze has always seemed tired, half-lidded, and now a curtain of hazy, redolent smoke lingers around her black veil. "Nervines unwork the mind and unwind us from the day. They are useful to help us relax and get deeper sleep. All plants are teacher plants. All may shift our consciousness, if we listen to them."

You say, "We invite their energy and spirit into our bodies to connect us to the earth, as she slumbers through winter."

Stigandr murmurs something quiet about wilf mushrooms, but stays largely quiet.

Suggesting, you say, "If you are not tolerant of stronger herbs, a simple reishi mushroom has a soothing effect, and is highly tolerated by most."

Didi takes a long drag off her pipe filled with reishi.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "Also good for other things."

You think for a moment before nodding slowly at Stigandr.

Kitza mouths the words 'nervines' quietly, her expression mildly confused as she glances about though she remains mostly quiet.

You dig into the corpse of a frilled warbler, eating only the delectable parts, and leaving the rest for the vultures. Nothing like carrion!

Quietly, Archmage Xavin Taziyah says, "Please excuse me."

Xavin leaves to the south.

Kitza leaves to the south.

You have emoted: "Drink, eat, smoke, if you will," Sibatti continues, wiping her dath-stained chin with the back of her hand, after quickly devouring the bird. "Let your bones exhale into the decomposing earth. Her dream will find the threads of your merging mind, and your mind shall spill like ink into the sky."

A note of warning in her voice, you say, "But do not let them be the rulers of our beings. We are the masters of our system, we are choosing to welcome silence ... not the other way around."

Oonagh seemingly takes this moment to follow direction, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath of air, permitting the exhale to rumble in a resonant, throaty croak that does not escape his rotund form.

You take a long drag of a long-stemmed recreational smoker's pipe.

Lin crunches down on a hunk of coal, her lips and teeth stained pitch black as she chews and disintegrates the rocklike hunk. She's still licking her lips as she shuts her eyes and lets her chest expand with a deep, liquid breath.

Didi ponders the corpse of an ethereal, scarred jellyfish's profile, deep in consideration.

Aithinne just thought:
Well...

You have emoted: Sibatti sets her pipe aside, bringing a figurine of a dancing, tailed woman into her grip, holding it between her palms as if inserting it into traditional prayer. "If you have brought along a totem of significance, invite its spirit into your experience. In all of your secret places, listen to the primordial sound of you, the instrument, attuned to the song of creation."

Grake starts to wield a mysterious-smelling blunt in his left hand.

Lin produces a morose, disfigured half-mask from her belongings, settling down onto her bottom so that she may rest it in her crossed legs. She listens in silence, taking your ritual as rote instruction, following each step, however reinterpreted.

Stigandr ponders the situation.

Pilar takes a brief sip of a quartz vial of inky black 'Shade of Dendara' rum once more then reaches for the lapel of her robes, idly rubbing a delicate charm of dark looped hair pinned to the inside and closing her eyes.

You say, "These unconscious songs crescendo through us as we dissolve ourselves into the winter portal... by dissolving ourselves into the portal of the north, it allows us to birth creations, and ride the forces of the regeneration of oncoming spring, a force much greater than ourselves."

Didi pats a Lleisian crystal necklace of rebirth in a friendly manner.

Pilar just thought:
In the cold of winter a warmth blooms in the heart of the faun, an affectionate and loving emotion that wraps around her.

Aisling slips his free hand into his pocket, fingers curling to grasp something there. He dips his gaze down, taking another drag from his cigarette, mindful to turn his head as he exhales, and listens.

Ayanala pulls out the only figurine she carries, holding it tenderly in both hands.

Ayanala starts to wield a diminutive figurine of Lyrana in her left hand.

Lin just thought:
[Her totem, a precious memento worked into a blasphemy. She thinks upon it and what it represents. What creations with it she may birth into the oncoming spring.]

You say, "Our veins are the patterns of rivers, of branches, and of roots. The dark moon moves our blood to the rhythm of nature. We embrace this time of rest, of bleeding. We sleep as she sleeps, she - the fertile void of winter."

Aithinne takes the Staff of the Arbiter from a small pouch embroidered with a phoenix.

Stigandr leans on a traveler's burlwood walking staff seeking consolation.

You have emoted: Sibatti fans the smouldering herbs in front of her, long black claws weaving like a puppeteer guiding strings of gradually-thickening smoke. The trailing vapors find their form in wriggling, vein-like striations. Should one follow their ascent into the sky, the sooty remnants would resemble a network of webs framed against the morning sky.

After watching the others, Aithinne slowly shifts a misty staff into both hands, holding it with what seems like great care.

Mazzion enters from the south, riding a flaming stallion.
Mazzion leaves to the south, riding a flaming stallion.

You have emoted: "To be willing to enter this void, we must be willing to offer ourselves completely to realms unknown," Sibatti continues, nestling her figurine against her calf, where she sits. "In these few days on either side of her darkest moon, we are closest to this portal, closest to merging of the fertile darkness. It is an ideal time for divination, meditation, where the veil is thin."

As you chant a prayer to the Praadi an-Kiar in throaty Sylvan, you rip a lavishly embellished dagger of curved bronze deftly across the corpse of a magnificent elk's belly, splitting it wide open, letting its viscera splatter into a simple wooden bowl.

A simple wooden bowl detonates with concentric ripples of ghastly green flame, the blood bubbling with phantasmal heat. Already, it has begun to cool.

Pilar inhales the scents of the smoking herbs slowly yet deeply and exhales just as calmly. For now, she keeps her eyes closed but she continues to grasp the loop of hair as she listens to your words.

Stigandr furrows his brow in consternation.

The aroma that floods your nose is sour and toe-curling. It could signify a child to be soon conceived; it could also mean crops laid to ruin.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "Um...."

Ayanala tilts her head curiously at Stigandr.

Stigandr gives the ritual display an unusual look, but keeps his thoughts to himself.

You say, "A child soon to be conceived... or crops laid to ruin."

Stigandr shakes his head at Ayanala.

You draw your eyebrows downward and together in consternation.

Shrieking fiercely, a large bird flies in from the south.
A shrieking bird snarls angrily at Oonagh and moves in for the kill.

Thoughtfully, you say, "A paradoxical message."

Stigandr takes a shining steel longsword from a padded obsidian scabbard.
Oonagh yelps in pain as a shrieking bird bashes him.
Stigandr starts to wield a shining steel longsword in his left hand.

Didi's aura of weapons rebounding disappears.
Didi uses Elemental Blast on a shrieking bird.
Having slain a shrieking bird, Didi retrieves the corpse.

Stigandr furrows his brow in consternation.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "An unusual omen."
Stigandr ceases to wield a shining steel longsword in his left hand.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "The peace we established earlier has been broken."

Stigandr ponders the situation.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "Mn."

Stigandr waves goodbye.

Gently, you say, "Sacredness, not peace."

Aisling's fingers ease, and his hand slips from his pocket, empty. He adjusts his footing, idly, watching you yet.

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "Right."

Stigandr the Wayfarer says, "Um....thanks for inviting me. I'll take my leave now."

You say, "Go well. May your rest be rejuvenating."

Stigandr nods his head emphatically.
Stigandr leaves to the south.

Ahlysaaria adjusts her glasses.

Situated beside you, fixated heavily on the unearthly smoke billowing from your bowl, Lin presides. Briefly, her eyes snap up, singling out Ahlysaaria, and then she's focused on the smoke once more.

You have emoted: "Should you wish," Sibatti continues, uncrossing her legs to sit with them folded out to one side, leaning onto one hip instead. "This is your moment to enter the spiral of the stars and dreams of her portal. Her call is wild... and deep.. and fierce!" Her eyes glower as her voice raises, clenching one bloodstained hand into a fist. "Meditate with her, before she steps fully beyond the veil. Listen to her mind, the song of her rattle. Ask her your questions. Seek her counsel. She is the wisest of the seasons, winter."

You take a long drag of a long-stemmed recreational smoker's pipe.

You have emoted: Sibatti's hand slowly lowers, drawing it close to her chest. She dips her chin, closing her eyes, and is still for a long period.

Oonagh smiles quietly and lowers himself to the ground now, sitting quietly and finding himself within his own mind, the breathing slows, even further....until rest overcomes him into meditation, there is little movement, just focus within the Grook as he settles in.

Ahlysaaria remains at the outskirts, listening respectfully but she does as commanded and closes her eyes with her arms crossed across her chest.

Lin takes your period of withdrawal as her cue to do likewise, lowering her head, eyes held shut, hands clasped upon her knees. Her twitching tail indicates alertness, something to bely her meditative state.

Pilar finally opens her eyes to only thin slits and dips her head in thought, looking at the ground beneath her dark lashes. Releasing the charm on her lapel, she instead reaches into her breast pocket again for a quartz vial of inky black 'Shade of Dendara' rum before leaning more fully against Aisling.

You think:
Can we be the same, even if we change? What is our being, if not a collection of experiences? Is there something greater that we cannot touch, or affect..?

Aisling's hand comes to rest on Pilar's back, his own eye open, attention drawn to the forest floor. He breathes slow, listening yet.

Ahlysaaria just thought:
"Spiral of her stars indeed." There is only one spiral you care about. "But I am here to learn. To understand better."

Oonagh just thought:
In this winter, when the days are cold and wind piercing, dawn comes late and dusk arrives early. Know that in the somber silence, time settles awaiting once more the rebirth that is to come. Winter will be a time of reflection, hibernating life ...but not that which is dead. In the darkness the silence, the cycle persists, and for this I am grateful for the Change to come.

Grake coughs.

Lin just thought:
"Be not. Be not. Be not."

Aithinne looks down thoughtfully at the staff held in her hands, rolling it along her palms lightly to make the white flame at its tip flicker with a ghostly light.

Grake leaves to the south.

Head dipped in meditation, you say, "Oneness with all that is. Listen to the pause within your breaths. Notice the suspension."

Shrieking fiercely, a large bird flies in from the south.
A shrieking bird snarls angrily at you and moves in for the kill.

You use Primality Lightning on a shrieking bird.
Having slain a shrieking bird, you retrieve the corpse.

You have emoted: Sibatti quickly handles the aggression of a tiny bird without too much disturbance of her posture. She tucks the corpse of a shrieking bird next to the figurine where she sits, leaving it be for now.

Lin licks her chops, keeping her eyes shut.

Aithinne just thought:
Death, silence, those words used to mean different things.

Lifting her chin to scan the clearing, you say, "When we awake from this dream, walking alongside her in the Rhythm of things, we may not always remember what occured upon waking. We realize we may know nothing at all. It may take many times before we learn to dissolve, and truly comprehend her great mystery."

Pilar flicks her remaining ear and nods in understanding.

You have emoted: Sibatti shifts her posture yet again, into a crouch, one leg extended dramatically in front of her as she looms over the corpse of the bird. A claw picks at it idly, but does not puncture or mutilate further. "From this very fertile nothingness of winter-time, the first spark of life will emerge. She, and we, will bring back our energy, awaken the boundaries of the self. The spring will be upon us before we know it, and with it we will rise renewed."

You say, "It is too early to envision what we will become - and do not tempt yourself by skipping ahead of the present moment. Be in awe of the stirring inside, knowing it comes from beyond ourselves. Permit yourselves to indulge in the deep dreams of renewal. Find your cave, your fertile void. Where all things come from, and to which all things return."

Pilar lifts her head then and her eyes to watch you, gaze dipping only once to the corpse of the slain bird.

Lin's eyes flutter open. Written upon her face is an encouraged, yearning expression, her hand resting over her heart, fingers splayed outward like a covetous spider.

You have emoted: "For there is only a pause between breath and exhale, between death and rebirth," Sibatti intones, the timbre of her voice somber and low. "Listen to the pause. Stay attuned to your body and its connection to her, and to all things."

Aisling barely moves, shoulders rising and falling in breath, fingers twitching briefly against Pilar's back. He glances westward, only for a moment, before looking to the floor once more.

You say, "And in the spring, those unconscious mysteries will dissolve, and we will rise with the sap of spring trees and bud with the apple blossom."

You have emoted: Sibatti snuffs out the burning yarrow, collecting the remains of the root and sweeping over the ashen crumbles of charcoal with a black hand.

Aithinne just thought:
It's something to think about, anyway.

Oonagh just thought:
A never ending cycle, without hesitation, as the sun rises so does it set.

Lin just thought:
"A message of self-reliance. She is entreating us to better synchronize with the lifeforce of the world itself."

You have emoted: Sibatti rises up to stand on two feet, interlacing her fingers over her stomach in a relaxed, casual way. "Before we close the sacred space and part for the day, I invite anyone who wishes to share an intention. What promise will you allow yourself, to relax deeper, dream longer? What responsibility can wait, to better attune yourselves with the season of rest?"

Lin flattens her palms into the soil and springs to her feet.

Pilar bites her bottom lip, thinks for a long moment, then volunteers aloud, "I can let go of what I cannot control and keep only focused on what I can. What I know is within my power."

Aisling says nothing, the fur about his chest bristling.

You nod your head at Pilar.

Oonagh with a broad, face-splitting smile on his face looks up towards you and brings himself to his feet, a low croak breaks free and replies, "In reflection, I will be making time to do just this more, to attune with the less tangible aspects of creation, the sounds of the changing seasons, the winds through the trees." he rumbles, nodding as Pilar makes their statement and seemingly agreeing with as much, "...become more in touch with the wilds I am oathbound to serve."

You smile at Oonagh.

"I will kill my demons, and be rid of them," Lin pledges.

Lin just thought:
"All save for one."

Laughing, you say, "You and I have different ideas of rest, my love."

Lin withdraws a step, bowing her head deferentially. "The rest that comes later will be sweet."

As her laughter quiets, you say, "I wish to welcome more silence into my mind, and be truly comfortable with it."

Pilar smiles softly and says, "I like that one."

"I will enjoy the quiet nights where I can read more." Ahlysaaria finally decides, still remaining in the place she rooted herself down and looks about. "I am far too busy of late." She pushes her glasses back up her nose.

You nod your head at Ahlysaaria, showing your acceptance.

Oonagh's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

You have emoted: Sibatti dips her chin in one final gesture of reverence. "Rest well, my brothers and sisters of the realm. May your sense of oneness never diminish."