This was originally going to be very similar to what Everiine and @Derith
. That is, we would use emotes to "create" a short vision around us and RP it out. Since we were going on a vision quest to learn more about Sister Wolverine, I decided to visit the manifestation of Wolverine in the Ancestral Glade to let Her know what Everiine and @Turnus
were going to attempt.
I can't thank the admin enough for this. We had no plans for this to happen, and were just going to do it on our own like usual. You made this little event really special. You engaged with us without any preparation. You took our cues and we followed yours. You helped to deepen an aspect of player-created and player-driven lore that has grown to become a central part of the guild's RP, and you did it flying by the seat of your pants. This was one of the best encounters I have ever had, and I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it.The Introduction
You kneel before a wolverine spirit, swearing your allegiance to her.
A wolverine spirit locks eyes with you and taps the ground with one paw.
Bowing with his face to the ground, you say to a wolverine spirit, "Great Predator and Warrior
Spirit--the Serenguard have dwindled, and the Cult of the Three Warriors dwindles as well. There are
none now who remember well Your ways or take them to heart, and none remain to teach us." He pauses
nervously. "It is with that in mind, then, that Turnus and I, brothers-in-arms and loyal Serenguard,
seek to enter the Spirit Realm and learn from Your Servants. The old ways must be relearned and
taught, and there is no one else to do so. Our journey to the Spirit Realm, to the Refuge of the
Three Warriors, is not done out of hubris or ambition, but out of necessity, though we have none to
guide us. We do so out of and with the highest respect."
You say to a wolverine spirit, "We hope that we find some measure of worth in Your eyes."
Everiine stands, keeping his eyes downcast.
A wolverine spirit growls menacingly. (At this point, I knew something was up--the wolverine doesn't normally react this way)
A wolverine spirit sniffs you, trying to decipher just what that smell emanating from you is.
A wolverine spirit turns and scratches at the ground, settling down in the low nest made by fallen
Everiine stands his ground, though his fear punctuates his stance. "We will not
A wolverine spirit growls softly and noses at the leaves. Laying his head down on his paws, he
closes his eyes.
You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.
Shifting your attention to a wolverine spirit, you powerfully slam a fist against your own chest in
a tribal display of respect.
A wolverine spirit locks eyes with you and taps the ground with one paw.The Preparation
Everiine walks the circles of stones, calming his mind.
You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.
Turning his eyes upward, you say, "Great Brother Eagle, Seer of all... a good word or two with Your
Sister wouldn't hurt..."
A solitary cry pierces the night, and something passes overhead, stirring the darkness and
flickering over the starry firmament.
Everiine recognizes the cry and scans the night sky, looking in vain for the shadow.
The faint stirrings of a winter breeze fill the air as a gentle presence makes itself known to you.
His sprite-like eyes wide with concern, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "You are such a strong flower, Everiine. I don't recognize this."
The beastly snarls of jaguars and wolverines echo like fanfare, preceding the entrance of Turnus from the south.
Shifting your attention to Turnus, you powerfully slam a fist against your own chest in a tribal display of respect.
You bow respectfully to Calythan.
Shifting his attention to you, Turnus powerfully slams a fist against his own chest in a tribal display of respect.
Shifting his attention to Calythan, Turnus powerfully slams a fist against his own chest in a tribal display of respect.
Calythan, the Morning Frost reaches out a long, spindly hand to touch your shoulder in recognition before turning his gaze skyward.
Bowing, you say to Calythan, "Well met, Calythan of the Morning Frost."
Smiling happily, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "Only grass bows to me, little flower, when I sit on it."
Pondering, his gaze still trained on the night sky, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "What was that sound? I don't think I've ever heard a flying thing like that."
Turnus tilts his head curiously.
Looking upward again, you say to Calythan, "It was the cry of Brother Eagle. He knows that my brother Turnus and I are about to enter the Spirit Realm to seek a servant of His Sister, Wolverine, the Predator."
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei blinks in surprise.
Tilting his head curiously, like a confused animal, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "But that sounds really, really like you could melt."
You say to Calythan, "It is a dangerous endeavour--usually, one would not attempt to meet a servant of a Warrior Spirit without a guide, one who has earned the respect of the Warrior Spirit. But none now wake in the Serenguard whom the Wolverine favours, and none remember Her ways. Turnus and I, for the sake of our tribe, are willing to risk it, together, to bring the ways of the Predator back to our kin."
Nodding slowly, tapping a spindly finger against his chin, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "But how will you get back out?"
Speaking in a low growl, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "Hrm - Everiine. I did not see that part in the book. I trust you've done that part enough times that we will be okay though."
Calythan, the Morning Frost flicks his attention to Turnus, his sprite-like eyes wide.
Warchief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Winter Courtier looks to Turnus, then back to Calythan. "We do not know the way. And that is what makes it so dangerous. If we had a guide, he or she would know the way. We will have to find it on our own," he says.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei shifts uncomfortably where he stands as Calythan's attention turns to him.
Calythan, the Morning Frost nods, frowning slightly.
You say, "That is why I prayed to Brother Eagle--I hope that, perhaps, He will not let my brother and I be lost if we fail."
Rallying his confidence with a big, mirthful grin, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "Well, you are both the bravest little flowers I've ever saw, so you will be just fine."
Pondering thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed in thought, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "But wait. Let me help."
You tilt your head curiously at Calythan.
Calythan, the Morning Frost lifts easily into the air, his wings sending flurries of snow across the river.
As Calythan reaches into the air, a flash of silver and a twisting of ice and water swirl together around a few blades of grass that he plucked from the riverbed.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei crosses his arms across his chest, shivering a little in the ice and snow as he watches quietly.
His hands fold and wrap, cut and slice, his tongue poking out from between his lips. Slowly, the shape of two frost-touched irises appear where the snows once were, and Calythan smiles happily at his work.
Lowering himself back down to the ground, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "Now, they're just little things and they will melt, but if you feel lost or scared, just squeeze them tight."
Smiling happily, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "You'll remember the Winter Court. You'll find your way home."
A fierce timberwolf tilts back his head in a low, resonant howl.
Calythan gives a frost-touched iris to you.
Calythan gives a frost-touched iris to Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei.
You say to a fierce timberwolf, "No, you will stay here. I need you to watch over us while we journey in the Spirit Realm."
You beam broadly at Calythan.
You slip into a frost-touched iris: Comprised of brilliant white petals with faded violet streaks, this frost-touched iris glistens with a sheen of silver frost. The blossom appears as if it is frozen solid, but the supple flesh of the flower remains natural to the touch. Though caressed and changed by winter it may be, the frost-touched iris gives off no chill, as if its creator had a care in who its owner might become.
You say to Calythan, "Thank you! Such a gift is precious."
Turnus slips into a frost-touched iris.
Bowing low, his nose nearly touching the ground, Calythan, the Morning Frost says, "Be safe, little flowers."
Speaking in a low growl, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "Yes, thank you Calythan."
The crisp frost that hangs in the air subsides as Calythan, the Morning Frost, evaporates into the ether.
You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.
You flash Turnus a joyous smile.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei lets out a grunt, inspecting the flower closely, "You know. I felt fine about this before. But now."
You say to Turnus, "We know the danger. But I also know that Sister Wolverine honours the proper respect shown to Her. Though we will only be meeting Her Servant."
Everiine walks the circles of stone oncec more, quieting his thoughts.
You ask Turnus, "Are you ready?"
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei nods slowly at you, "I brought what was needed. Though we need to build our campfire for the tea. And finish preparing the body. But the spirit is ready."The Ritual
You nod your head at Turnus.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei simply slips his robes off easily.
Everiine sets all of his weapons, armour, clothing, and equipment in a pile next to Mairim.
You take some wood and light it with your tinderbox, causing it to erupt into a soothing fire.
Everiine sits down on one side of the campfire.
You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.
Warchief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Winter Courtier invites Turnus to sit opposite him.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei takes a seat on the opposite side of the campfire, pulling out a bowl made from the skull of a doe into which he sprinkles a handful of herbs. Then pours a flask of water into, and sets on the fire to boil.
Everiine closes his eyes, inhaling deeply the smoke and fumes of the tea, letting it pervade his mind. He waves his hands over the fire, chanting ancient spells and wards to open a door to the spirit realm.
As if far away, you say, "We'll need to focus on our voices--we cannot lose each other, whatever happens."
The campfire erupts in response, sending a plume of green and brown smoke into the air. The odour of the tea wafts into the clearing, filling the area with its heady aroma.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei takes in deep breathes of the fumes of his own as he nods imperceptibly, "Course old friend - I'll keep my ears open on your voice."
As if far away, you say, "You better keep speaking, too." A slight smile graces his lips "I'm not getting torn apart because you left me behind."
Slowly, the campfire fades to its original state, but a sense of waiting cloys at your mind, as if something is drawing you closer to it.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei laughs loudly before grunting back, "Old bird - if I can't think of anything to say. I will fling insults. For the good of your safety."
The sounds of drums beating and pan flutes whistling emanates from all around you, yet they have a fading dissonance as if they are being recalled from a dream. Still, the presence pulls at you, and a sense of waiting fills the area.
Everiine chuckles, then continues chanting. A gust of wind blows through the circles of stones, and in the darkness of your mind, an ethereal scene shimmers i nto existence. A thick fog hangs in the air, an unusually bright moon overhead. The fog disperses a little, revealing a frosted boreal forest.
As if far way, you say, "Brother? Can you hear me? Where are you?"
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei closes his eyes as he feels the rush of fog heavy against him, his breath long and labored as he calls back, "I can hear you brother. We appear to be in the woods. But they are none that I recognize. They are not our home."
Everiine stands, looking around himself. "I can hear you--but I can't see you." He looks behind tree after tree, searching for you.
A discordant whisper echoes across the clearing, replying in a sing-song voice, "Can't see you, can't see you."
Growling out louder, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "Follow my voice. I am here. I cannot see much of anything through the foliage. See what?"
The sounds of great beasts growling and fighting nearby roar from all around you, then fade just as quickly, like a percussive drum beat ending abruptly.
Warchief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Winter Courtier tries to follow Turnus's voice and, hoping to guide Turnus towards him, starts saying what comes naturally--which, of course, are insults. "Old dog, I knew one day you'd get me killed. All the enemies in the Basin, and I'm going to die because you are lost. So selfish!" He keeps following Turnus's voice.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei grunts and mutters to himself as he makes his way to the voice, calling out with a voice that grows louder as he nears, "Quit complaining ya old bird. I'm not going to let you die out here, even if I have to drag ya out by the wings."
Everiine thinks he can see a shape ahead, remarkably old and canine, and heads toward it. "You'd better not, do you know how long it takes me to preen these things? I'd come back and haunt you for messing them up!"
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei calls out suddenly, "I see! And fine fine. I'll drag you by your the pinky all the way home." He makes his way towards the shape, but despite how close you seem it takes longer than one would have thought. Though eventually he stands beside you.
Everiine exhales, visibly relieved to have found you. He brings his fist to his chest in the tribal salute, and looks around him. "It's different than last time... this must be Sister Wolverine's part of the realm." He looks around again, peering through the foggy woods. "There should be an animal somewhere... a servant of the Predator. An animal known for its ferocity. Do you see one?"
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei looks around carefully, ears perking at the sound of something rustling through the underbrush as he whirls around to look, "There - I can just make something out running through the woods! It looks like a wild boar."
Everiine instinctively reaches for his blades, momentarily confused when his hands hit his hips instead. He groans, adjusting his stance to face the rustling underbrush.
Two yellow eyes blink open in the underbrush and gaze at you, unblinking, for the span of a few heartbeats. Suddenly, they're gone, fading into the night.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei crouches down himself into an instinctive loboshigaru hunter's pose, as if ready to spring with teeth and nail instead of weapon if needed, then aside to you, "We should call it out in challenge."
Warchief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Winter Courtier mutters back to Turnus, "Let's hope it eats you first." Then, back to the place where the eyes made themselves known, he yells, "Show yourself! We did not risk life to go home without speaking to you. Servant of the Predator, answer our challenge, for we are the Serenguard!"
A low, reverberating growl fills the air before a set of viciously sharp tusks precede the arrival of an enormous boar, its yellow eyes narrowed and incensed with rage. It stalks toward you then pauses, its entire form still and unmoving.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei grunts once at the boar, eyes fixed on the creature as his muscles tense ready for anything, "We are not afraid of you boar. We came for answers, but will gladly fight if we must."
The sense of waiting pervades the area, beating down on your senses and boring a hole into your mind. A small trickle of blood drips from your nose and the boar stomps one hoof in acquiescence to your request.
Aside to Everiine, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "Any other formalities, Chief, before we ask?"
Warchief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Winter Courtier snorts and spits out the blood, standing next to Turnus and ready to defend himself if necessary. "I think we're passed the niceties."
Addressing the boar again, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "We came to learn of Sister Wolverine! But first we will learn of you - tell us beast. How did you learn to become fierce, and why is it important? What else would you have to say to us."
Everiine awaits the boar's answer, aware of the fog that has been almost imperceptibly creeping in again.
With a violent thrashing downward, it bores a hole in the soft earth, ripping at the grasses and tearing at the roots. A low, fierce growling rips threw its throat and a cry of startled birdsong overhead sends leaves scattering to the ground.
Slowly, steadily, the shifting fog takes shape as a vision forms before your eyes, locked into the boar's yellow gaze.
Warchief Everiine Silvermoon the Wise, Winter Courtier doesn't let his guard down and freezes, unable to look away from the boar's gaze. "Can you see anything?" he asks Turnus, hoping he is still there.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei tightens his hands into tight clenched fists as he maintains his crouched pose, eyes flicking quickly between the shifting fog and the boar. Distracted by your sudden voice he grunts up in annoyance at the interruption, "I can see, but I'm not sure what I see yet."
A vortex forms in the fog, drawing on the tension of the fire. As the image spins, the boar's eyes still piercing into yours, an alien memory takes shape behind your eyes.
Everiine's eyes go blank, focusing on the image forming in his mind.
A vision of a young creature, crying out in fear, impresses upon your mind's eye, filling your senses with the sounds of its high-pitched screaming, the scent of blood overwhelming.
The vision sharpens and expands, and your eyes are the creature's eyes. You look down at your hooves and then back at the hungry mouths of the wolves that tear at your mother's throat.
Everiine shudders, unable to look away.
You feel the creature take a tentative step forward, pausing in abject terror as one of the snapping mouths turns its attention to you. Shrinking back, you turn and run headlong into the underbrush, your eyes half-closed and your heart beating a rhythmic panic in your chest.
Everiine can't move, locked into the vision.
The image shifts again, and the adult boar's yellow eyes burn from your face. Another memory fills your mind just as suddenly, ripping you back into the underbrush.
Everiine follows the vision, his heart racing.
A huffing and squealing resounds throughout the clearing and your narrowed, yellow eyes scan the earth for the cause.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei closes his eyes in an attempt to center himself at the vision shifts relaxing his body only momentarily as a shudder runs through him, then his body tenses again as he reopens his eyes with a steely gaze at the sound of squealing.
Suddenly, a high-pitched squealing resounds above all else and is suddenly cut short. You rush forward, your tusks catching on the low-hanging grasses and raised roots, until you stumble across the sight of your mate, broken and bloodied.
Everiine winces and clenches his fists.
Slowly, you walk forward, cautious to take in your surroundings first, and then you spot it - an arrow piercing her heart. The wound bubbles and froths with poisons, and as you look into your mate's eyes, you see pain and lifelessness staring back from their glassy depths.
Turning away from the scene, you walk slowly into the underbrush, your heart hardening.
Everiine exhales harshly, feeling his chest tighten.
The vision shifts again, and now you are staring into the eyes of a small elfen child whose leg has been twisted into a clever trap. Narrowing your gaze, you remember the death of your mate at two-foot hands, and you snort a derisive blast of air through your snout and turn away.
A whimpering from behind you slows your stride, and you turn back, your yellow eyes meeting the child's once more. It reaches out to you, a tear falling down his cheek, his other hand pulling painfully against the barbed ropes. Your heart, cold and hardened, begins to melt some as you consider your options.
You imagine tearing into his chest to end the pain, letting him become food for the wolves that devoured your mother.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei grits his teeth, clamping his mouth shut tightly as he watches the memories in relative silence.
You imagine ripping apart his leg, giving him freedom but crippling his escape.
You imagine pulling the barbed twine free, giving him a real chance at survival.
As you make your way toward the child, intent on allowing for the third option to pass, a blackened warhammer swings forward, crashing into the child's chest. You turn away as the marching feet of a foreign army rip through the forest, burning your home to the ground. You watch on as the child becomes less than a skeleton, until you can stay no longer.
The boar's memories disentangle from yours and you are left with your own thoughts.
Everiine staggers back, blinking his eyes, trying to regain his own sight as quickly as possible.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei lets out a long breath as he rises to his feet cautiously, still ready to spring if needed, but not in an aggressive pose as he gives the boar a nod and grunt of respect.
Everiine turns back to the boar, and looks into its eyes. "You weren't born fierce... you were -made- fierce,".
The boar's yellow eyes stare at you, unblinking, and it nods its head once, its vicious tusks glittering in the fire light.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei ponders a moment before nodding once deciding aloud, "Through loss and pain, we become better ourselves."
To the boar, you say, "But even in ferocity, we cannot lose our hearts."
Speaking in a low growl, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "You have my respect Boar. I did not think I would say that. We have much to think about that you have shown us. Thank you."
The image of the boar becomes less whole, as its yellow eyes finally blink. As it turns back toward the underbrush, it nods once more. Soon, it is gone from sight.
Everiine notices how quiet the ethereal woods have grown, and how thick the fog has become. "We have stayed long," he says, "We need to find our way out."
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei watches as the boar vanishes into the underbrush before blinking and turning to you, "We need to leave before we get - yes that exactly."
You say to Turnus, "We aren't dead. Yet. This is good."
Everiine fingers the frosted iris in his hand. "Do you think it will work?"
Speaking in a low growl, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "That is reassuring."
Speaking in a low growl, Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei says, "But I am sure it will work. If it doesn't, it's a long walk back."
Everiine nods, holding up the frosted iris. "Ready?" he asks.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei closes his eyes as he holds up his own iris before him then answers, "Ready."
You nod your head emphatically.
You give a frost-touched iris a friendly squeeze.
Turnus gives a frost-touched iris a friendly squeeze.
The drums beat louder and the scented tea fills the area with a heady fragrance.
You feel the iris pulse in your palm, sending a friendly chill down your spine.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei speaks with his eyes still closed, "I don't feel any different. Do..." then as he opens his eyes he grunts as he sees the familiar circle of stones again, "nevermind.
Everiine opens his eyes, blinking, the haziness evaporating.
Many-Coloured Warrior, Turnus Mzithrei shivers a little as he wraps his arms around himself, "That was. Wow."
Everiine sits silently, pondering the vivid visions that linger in his memory.