A Stirring in Mother Night's Realm - the Arrival of Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows

RancouraRancoura the Last Nightwreathed QueenCanada
edited January 2017 in Event Scrolls
Months of work led to this, and I cannot thank @Salome enough for being my lovely partner in shadowy crime, as well as @Manteekan and @Nocht, who put in a lot of time and effort to make this possible. (Seriously, you Godmin are amazing and Lusternia is lucky to have all of you dedicating your time and talents to it.)

Preceding this, the Glomdoring was plagued with visions and strangely-behaving shadows and odd occurrences, such as these:

Thump. Thump. Thump. You rub your head as it continues to throb, yet it doesn't 
stop. The air begins to vibrate about you. It is not your head thumping, but the 
air. It shakes in bursts, as if being hammered on by an invisible hand. You spin 
around, and the shadows seem to mimic the steady pulsing, swelling and receding 
with each rhythmic beat.

A warm wind blows through the forests, nearly knocking you from your feet. You 
lunge forward to catch yourself, yet the shadow beneath you remains still. As 
your foot lands where its head would be, it shifts out of the way, barely 
missing your step. The ground begins to rumble as it hesitantly shifts back into 
place, and you blink in astonishment, unsure of how to react.

Darkness consumes you as you find yourself by Night's side. She looks down upon 
you, and you fill with an overwhelming pride. You chase after her as she 
continues her journey, guiding you through the darkness as you seek out another 
to aide.

You nearly lose your footing as the ground seems to give way beneath you. You 
catch yourself before you fall, but realize it was not the ground that moved at 
all, but the shadow beneath your feet. As you regain your composure, you realize 
that your shadow has split in two, mirrored on either side of your body. You 
blink. The loud caw of a crow rings out and you look to the sky briefly, only to 
look down once more to see your shadow alone.

All about you darkens as the shadows of the trees begin to grow, stretching 
towards you hungrily. You shift about, avoiding their touch, but they continue 
to spread, leaving you but standing room as you find yourself encircled 
completely. A boom resonates through the sky just as they inch over your feet, 
the shadows quickly receding back into the treeline as if startled by the sound.


THE RITUAL
----------

Edited to remove some unrelated detours, etc. This is going to be a long one.

--------------------------------------

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "The Queen of Night and myself shall be holding a 
ritual invocation to reveal what has been sweeping through the Wyrd and shadows 
of Mother Night in about half a day. The more that attend, the more likely we 
shall be able to part the shadow obscura."

The ground beneath you cracks as the forest erupts with life, vines intertwined 
with shadow writhing and flailing as they snake through the forest. All about 
you is a frenzy as the darkness begins to tug at all it touches, flinging even 
the crows to the earth beneath them.

Rowena Nightshade yells, "We see you! That which seeks to harm the Wyrd seeks to 
harm all of us! And you shall pay!"

As darkness watches over the writhing of the Wyrden wood, you sense a presence 
lurking, watching you. You are not afraid. You are comforted by the one who 
watches. With a sudden blast, a beacon of dark light pierces the treetops, 
shining from deep within the chasm that sits at the forest's centre, stretching 
high above to meet with Mother Night Herself.

[travelling, etc]

Southern edge of chasm.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. There is a very 
light rain shower.
You see exits leading east, southeast, and southwest.

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land 
in utter darkness.
It is now the 8th of Estar, 465 years after the Coming of Estarra.

You have emoted: Rancoura pauses, gazing down into the impenetrable darkness of 
the chasm that yawns below.

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "The vision of the chasm. Prophetic in itself 
that what is down there remains unseen."

Waves of energy pulsate through the Wyrden wood, pushing back against the plant-
life that seeks to ensnare it. The crows take to the sky once more, circling the 
dark beacon as they cry out to the dark sky above.

You have emoted: Rancoura's wings extend, their otherworldly presence casting an 
aura of adumbration at her flanks. With a powerful sweep that trails disembodied 
whispers in its wake, they lift her into the air, her graceful form drifting out 
a ways above the chasm.

You see the following people here:
Niico, Salome, Lysistrata, Rancoura.

Just over the edge of the chasm, the dark energy thrums, pulsating from deep 
within the darkness below.

You have emoted: Gazing down into the void below, Rancoura suddenly recoils, as 
if she had seen some mirage within the darkness that bodes not well. Swiftly, 
she returns to the edge of the chasm, alighting upon the ground amongst you.

You scent at the air, your skilled nose picking up the faint traces of others in 
the surrounding area.
Xenthos: 1337            before the Master Ravenwood Tree
Tyamit: 7718             north of the roots
Lysistrata: 1259         southern edge of chasm
Niico: 1259              southern edge of chasm
Salome: 1259             southern edge of chasm
Ssaliss: 1337            before the Master Ravenwood Tree

***********************[ THE FREE FOREST OF GLOMDORING ]***********************
Commune Member          Rank                     Position                    CT
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Niico      shadowdancer Shadow Warden            Commune Aide                On
Lysistrata             shadowdancer(h) Shadow Warden            Commune Aide On
Tyamit        ebonguard Dark Woodsman                                        On
Salome  shadowdancer(h) Shadow Warden            Librarian                   On
Ssaliss shadowdancer(h) Shadow Warden                                        On
Xenthos       ebonguard Guardian of the Dark For Shadow Court                On
Rancourashadowdancer(h) Guardian of the Dark For Shadow Court                On
*******************************************************************************
2 ebonguards and 5 shadowdancers present, of those 4 are demigods/ascendants.

Currently, there are 7 Commune Members on this Plane and 5 on other Planes.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Glomdoring, come. The Night is with us, as this threat 
manifests itself. Come, and lend the Night Coven your strength."

You feel the ground begin to shake as a black mass climbs up the chasm's edge, 
leaping toward the gathered crowd violently.

Rising slowly, shaking slightly as he does, Niico turns to look at you with a 
determined half-smile set on his face. Taking a step closer to his sister, he 
raises his athame and says, "The shadows dance at our call, lady Queen. You need 
only direct us, and our Dynasty shall bare its full strength to quell this 
threat."

A violent shadow forms an umbral blade with one of his limbs and slashes at you 
visciously.

[killing the shadow, etc]

Salome picks up the corpse of a violent shadow.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Come. Swiftly. To the chasm."

Salome cradles the violent shadow against her breast, the essence itself seeping 
into her flesh.

(Glomdoring): You say, "The southern edge."

[waiting for people]

You have emoted: Rancoura looses a long, fluid breath as she looks to Salome, 
the gaping darkness of the chasm below rising with each passing moment.

You scent at the air, your skilled nose picking up the faint traces of others in 
the surrounding area.
Tyamit: 7718             north of the roots
Tarken: 1259             southern edge of chasm
Lysistrata: 1259         southern edge of chasm
Salome: 1259             southern edge of chasm
Indoril: 1259            southern edge of chasm
Xenthos: 1259            southern edge of chasm
Niico: 1259              southern edge of chasm
Versalean: 9391          before a great ravenwood
Iorwen: 7741, 7742, 7743, ...Deep Underground
Ssaliss: 1259            southern edge of chasm
Veyils: 1259             southern edge of chasm

Salome glides forward, her dark eyes shuttering closed as she offers her slender 
hand to you.

Quietly, grasping the Princess' slender hand, you whisper to Salome, "We must 
begin."

You see the following people here:
Tarken, Xenthos, Indoril, Lysistrata, Veyils, Niico, Versalean, Ssaliss, Salome, 
Rancoura.

Dipping her hand into a shadow cauldron, Salome pulls out a long shadow and 
releases it into the air. The room darkens with the churning darkness.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

You have emoted: Rancoura nods, and releases Salome's hand, moving several paces 
towards the edge of the gaping rift in the Glomdoring's midst.

Hollowly, her head bowed, you whisper, "Witness."

You see the following people here:
Xenthos, Indoril, Salome, Lysistrata, Versalean, Niico, Veyils, Tarken, Ssaliss, 
Rancoura.

You have emoted: Rancoura turns her gaze to Salome, sharing with her a long, 
silent communion, the two daughters of Night standing opposite the other. With a 
nod, the Queen at last steps forth, drawing from the inner folds of her shadow-
spun robes a long, crystalline black athame. Likewise, Salome draws her supine 
blade, and both drift three paces apart, turning in tandem to the other.

The sky lightens and stars fade as Father Sun approaches the horizon in his 
neverending quest to capture Mother Night.

Salome raises her athame towards you, who mirrors the movement. "Che'lei ta mua, 
deomari la'hania na morint, diuin ke'ra tah'vrai," she speaks to the heavens as 
the Princess lifts her gaze to the darkened skies.

You have emoted: Gaze lifting as well to the spreading eventide, Rancoura 
hollowly whispers, "Trath'ona." As though of one mind, both she and Salome lower 
the points of their athames to the ground, and begin to walk, marking a 
circumference in the loam. Completing the circle, the two daughters carve seven 
lines, manifesting the sharp form of a seven-pointed star within the curves.

The hands on a shadowed watch of the seven shrouds read five o'clock in the 
morning.
The phase of the moon is the Waning Gibbous.

In your world, it is 2017/01/22 20:18:12 GMT and 2017/01/22 16:18:12 in your 
configured timezone.
See HELP GMT for an explanation of GMT.

Retrieving them from a silken satchet nestled in the roots of a nearby tree, 
Salome places seven candles at each of the ritualistic septagram's points. 
Meanwhile, Rancoura bears forth an antiquated, iron-wrought basin, its herbal 
contents smelling of pine needles, crushed sage and myrrh. This does Rancoura 
place at the centre of the ritual circle, pressing the basin's clawed feet into 
the ground.

The sky above the Glomdoring begins to darken, though the sun brings dawn to the 
Basin of Life.

You have emoted: Nodding slightly, the daughters take their place in the centre 
of the septagram, facing one another, Rancoura offering her hands to Salome, who 
grasps them with her own. A hush falls over the forest, the Glomdoring itself 
heralding the sacred act before it is initiated.

In unison with Salome, you whisper, "Dir'it Trithai dae na, varda Trath'ona, 
ancador'chad, mahke'ra cel'menela."

Low and chiming, Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Daughters be we both, of the 
Great Mother yon high, a-seat Her lofty throne, the eternal sombre sky."

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Ek'sath dae na, ai udsain mirata: dae na kyerme 
ome, lva enon."

Breathlessly, her words echoed as a long-forgotten memory, you whisper, 
"Together are we now, nary far apart; this we both avow, to ever do our part."

You have emoted: The last words upon Rancoura's chant emitted, a strange 
compulsion takes them both as a soft sigh passes from sweet lips both; the 
darkness itself sighing, currents of soft, cool energy pass through the 
awareness of those present.

As they turn their beautiful visages to the shadows, at once they appear as 
twins - the same likeness, their skin as pale as a twilight sky, their eyes as 
cold and dark as coals, unnervingly shifting in sync as Salome gently moves and 
twines their long, slender fingers closer together as they begin to trace the 
septagrams points in the air. The candles slowly burst to life in shadowfire as 
each point is directed, at first blaring and illuminating the chasm below before 
their glacial flames waver with the empty, calling wind.

You have emoted: Releasing each other, the daughters turn their backs, raising 
their hands to the skies, beseeching; and a heavy darkness descends upon them, 
centred upon the ritual circle, bringing with it a breathless beauty as the air 
is stolen from Rancoura and Salome's lips in a sigh. Lighting their darkened 
countenances with a pale blue illumination, a burst of shadowflame lights the 
herb-filled basin at their feet; a heady, pungent smoke spews forth from its 
burning contents, filing the air with its tantalizing spice.

Taking several, trance-like paces from Rancoura, Salome's steps are graceful, 
careful, and paced. Pausing at the edge of the septagram, she turns her gaze, 
unseeing and hollow, to the east, her lips moving obediently as she whispers 
hoarsely, "I call upon thee, Queen of Slaugh, guide your daughters in wisdom 
well. Part the shadows where we cannot see, where the Sacred Mother meets 
eternity -- for our eyes are only four; open the third and thinning door, where 
unseen roam beyond the veil."

A brilliant purple light suffuses the forest as the visage of the Queen of the 
Slaugh appears high overhead, gazing towards the heavens as she calls upon the 
guidance of Mother Night. The forest begins to rumble and the shadows quiver as 
darkness slowly consumes the lavender glow, and Lhiannan tosses her head back as 
a stream of power begins to pierce the sky above.

You have emoted: A faint rustling trails in Rancoura's wake as she drifts to the 
opposite side of the circle, her movements that of one in a reverie, eyes 
unseeing as her partner's, black as the moonless eventide. Halting at the 
circle's threshold, her gaze turns to the south, her whisper resounding, "I call 
upon thee, Dark-Hound, split the air with your baying sound. Tear asunder in 
your jaws, those who would dissuade our cause -- for our flesh is now but one; 
as sisters two, your guardianship begun, as our circle invokes all and none."

The call of the Dog of Darkness rings out as his visage takes its place beside 
Lhiannan above the Wyrden wood. He turns his dark gaze to the Glomdoring, his 
maw dripping with a black, shadowy essence, and he howls, his cry met by the 
cacophonous barks of the barghests that call the forest home. Tossing his head 
back, a blast of energy washes over the Glomdoring, and the trees begin to shake 
and rustle as a tendril of darkness descends from the sky above.

Her form beginning to move in a swaying, hypnotic dance, Salome begins to step 
clockwise around the circle's border, Rancoura simultaneously following opposite.
 A stirring in the shadows greets the daughters' dance, piqued as Salome 
approaches the westernmost point of the star. Pausing, her gaze shifts to the 
south as her lips form the words, "I call upon thee, Redcap-King, wrath forsake 
not in the dark thy making. Part the way, protect the septal path; we beseech in 
this calling craft -- for our blades are only two, and cannot slice all through 
and through, where unseen roam beyond the veil."

The manic laughter of the King of the Redcaps peals across the sky as he takes 
his place beside the Dog of Darkness, closing off the triangle that the trio 
forms high above. He glances between both Lhiannan and Gwyllgi as droplets of 
crimson rain down upon the forest from his massive claws. As each droplet hits 
the treetops, it fills the air with a red haze and is caught by a warm wind that 
shakes the brush about you. With a final cry, Glumki turns his head to the sky, 
and the tendril of darkness continues to grow, stretching to the forest beneath 
it.

The shadows slowly start to dissipate.

Dipping his hand into a shadow cauldron, Xenthos pulls out a long shadow and 
releases it into the air. The room darkens with the churning darkness.

You have emoted: The invocation echoed as a revisiting memory, the echoes of the 
Three Avatars of Night drifting through the forest Rancoura and Salome resume 
their dance across from each other, each turning around the ritual circle, their 
movements mirrored, harmonious, ethereal. Shadows spin from the gracefully 
fluttering tips of their fingers, each aphotic thread woven with intricacy and 
finesse, imbued with need as they voraciously find other strands, melding upon 
contact in patterns akin to seamless, adumbrated webs.

Halting their journey once more, Rancoura turns her gaze north from the southern 
curve of the circle, Salome at the northern. Their melodic words melded as one, 
they both whisper, "I call upon thee, Sacred Mother, reveal to us that which we 
call." Upon the tail of their words, a sudden gust of dark wind bursts forth 
from the chasm, a soundless scream as the gale sweeps over the ritual circle, 
tearing and the webs of darkness spun. The daughters gasp, heads thrown back, 
eyes ablaze with frozen pools of darkness.

You have emoted: Drawing together in the midst of the fae star, urgently, they 
reach for the other, the tips of their fingers meeting, a dark halo enshrouding 
their amorous touch. "Trathona," Salome and Rancoura breathe; and at once they 
slam their hands to the ground, rippling the adumbral web before it, too, is 
slammed into the wyrden loam.

All goes still as the darkness above begins to shift, forming not tendril, but 
hand, and the visage of Mother Night smiles down upon the Glomdoring. With a 
gentle touch, She places a finger to the ground, and the floor begins to rock 
and shake. A resounding boom rocks the Wyrden forest as Night and Her Avatars 
smile down upon you.

You feel the ground begin to split beneath you as the sound of grinding earth 
echoes through the forest. Suddenly there's a crash, and Mother Night retracts 
Her touch, taking with it the Her visage and those of Her Trinity.

Nearly losing your footing, the ground beneath you crumbles, and the earth gives 
way to the chasm to the north. Stone and brush clacks against the side of the 
crevasse as it fragments, giving way to a sloped descent that leads down the 
side of the ravine.

Xenthos purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully 
gathers his thoughts.

Xenthos, riding Ilistala, an enormous leopard, leaves to the down, emanating an 
aura of immense power.
Ilistala melds into the shadows, quickly disappearing from view.

[travelling]

Amidst bones and rubble.
There is a very light rain shower. Root and vine have overcome this strange 
hollow carved into the chasm's side, growing over the oddly smooth walls with 
ease. Beneath these dangling appendages, the space opens up to a musty chamber 
filled with a murky haze of dust and decay. Bones border the entirety of the 
room, the remains tossed up against the wall still maintaining some semblance to 
the long, elegant beings they once inhabited. All light is absorbed by a massive,
 inky orb that sits here atop a pedestal of thistle and vine. 
You see a single exit leading northeast.

ih
"orb179596"                             the Umbral Prison
Number of objects: 1

(Glomdoring): You say, "The orb. It is here."

Shadowbound Niico asks Salome, "Sister...where are we?"

Piercing your mind, a soft, sultry voice whispers to you, "You need not be 
afraid. Place a hand upon my prison. Help me be free."

Niico blinks.

You purse your lips, deep in thought.

With a wistful look on his face, Niico touches the Umbral Prison.

Veyils Ysav'rai says, "A Prison."

With a wistful look on her face, Salome touches the Umbral Prison.

With a wistful look on his face, Indoril touches the Umbral Prison.

You whisper, "Whom speaks?"

You see the following people here:
Zilias, Xenthos, Niico, Salome, Lysistrata, Veyils, Indoril, Ssaliss, Rancoura.

p orb
An ancient pedestal woven of vine and thistle sits at the centre of the room, 
sprouting from the ground as if grown from the very earth here. Atop the 
platform sits a massive orb, formed of an inky blackness which swirls violently. 
Dark voices emanate from within the orb, though their words are unformed, which 
echo throughout the chamber. All light is absorbed about the edifice, feeding it 
as it continues to turn and churn atop the pedestal.
It weighs about 121 pounds.
The Umbral Prison is holding:
Nothing.
It has the following aliases: orb.

With a wistful look on his face, Xenthos touches the Umbral Prison.

With a wistful look on her face, Veyils touches the Umbral Prison.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

"I have been sent by Mother Night, you need not worry about who I am, but that I 
am here to help," it intones.

With a wistful look on her face, Salome touches the Umbral Prison.

You reach out and touch the Umbral Prison.

A smooth, seductive voice whispers into your mind, "Bring me the shadows that 
have escaped this prison."

You purse your lips, deep in thought.

Tarken ponders the situation.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Gather the violent shadows throughout the forest. Bring 
them to us."

Lysistrata nods her head emphatically.

Salome puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

Salome puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

You scent at the air, your skilled nose picking up the faint traces of others in 
the surrounding area.
Tyamit: 1324             water's edge
Salome: ?                amidst bones and rubble
Lysistrata: 1259         southern edge of chasm
Versalean: ?             amidst bones and rubble
Veyils: ?                amidst bones and rubble
Niico: ?                 amidst bones and rubble
Ssaliss: ?               amidst bones and rubble
Indoril: 1330            behind the Black Tower
Zilias: 1926, 1351, 12393broken ground
Tarken: 1324             water's edge
Xenthos: 1344            tenebrous way

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "I have given thee a shadow, One-who-Speaks."

Xenthos puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.
Zilias puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

Whispering, the voice continues, "Bind them within this prison as they have done 
me for so long!"

Ssaliss ponders the situation.

Shadowbound Niico asks, "Who have the shadows been binding, sister-Princess? Did 
you feel anything when you and the Queen danced?"

Shadowbound Niico asks you, "Or you, my Queen?"

You whisper, "We have felt a presence for quite a long time within the realm of 
the Night."

You whisper, "One that... was unfamiliar."

Xenthos purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully 
gathers his thoughts.

You whisper, "A spirit, of sorts, though it grew more veiled the further we 
attempted to delve."

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "We only felt the great rumble beneath our feet 
before this Crafting. But this is a presence the Queen and I have sensed lurking 
beyond, rolling and struggling from freedom."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Is the orb supposed 
to be absorbing the shadows, or just holding them?"

Indoril gives the corpse of a violent shadow to you.

You incline your head politely to Indoril.

The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

You put the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.
The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

Xenthos takes the corpse of a violent shadow from the Umbral Prison.

Xenthos puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.
The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Ah hah, now it is 
absorbing them."

The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.
The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.
The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Will look for more, 
then."

A sultry laughter escapes from the orb as it begins to thrum with power.

Zilias puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

With calm and comforting words, an enchanting voice whispers into your mind, "I 
can see to it that these shades do you no more harm, if you will free me from 
this prison. I simply must regain my strength. Bring me shadowy essence so that 
I can break free!"

Veyils Ysav'rai says, "Ah."

Comprehension flashes across Tarken's face.

(Glomdoring): You say, "The presence requires shadowy essence now, as well."

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "We must now retrieve shadow essence, Wyrd."

Shadowbound Niico says, "Now we require essence of shadow, from the ethereal 
Glomdoring."

(Glomdoring): Xenthos says, "Ah."

(Glomdoring): Versalean says, "How many?"

(Glomdoring): You say, "As much as we can muster."

Addressing the prison directly, Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "How can we be 
sure of thy loyalty?"

Indoril looks on with silent interest of the inky orb..

As you gaze into the dark, empty orb, you see not your reflection, but a face 
not unlike your own. It stares back at you, unblinking, as others soon join 
behind it. She mouths words, but they remain unspoken, and as her mouth still, 
she smiles back at you.

You have emoted: Rancoura glances at Salome, a note of wary intrigue upon her 
countenance.

Indoril looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Shadowbound Niico says to Salome, "Mother would not offer us this solution if it 
were not something that we could trust, sister. Let us have faith in the power 
you and our Queen have wrought."

The darkness about you ripples as the voice speaks, "Night has entrusted me with 
this task, much as she hast entrusted you with your own. I have naught but that 
to assure you."

You have emoted: Approaching the orb, Rancoura drifts around it in a circle, 
gaze never leaving its hazy surface. Whispers trail in her wake, eerily 
coinciding with the soundless faces held beneath the orb's surface.

Salome is compulsed to draw closer to the prison, her slender fingers gently 
caressing the glossy surface. "It is as it is, forgive my caution, it is my 
nature, our nature." She whispers underneath his words, the sound barely audible.

Addressing the gathered Coven, you whisper, "Our Mother was with us, whilst we 
danced. Her confidence in our task was sure; all of us felt it."

You whisper, "This is the result of this endeavour."

Xenthos puts a bit of shadowy essence into the Umbral Prison.
A bit of shadowy essence is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

(repeat x 30+)

Indoril slowly lifts a hand as if to slowly reach for the orb, as his pale-green 
eyes begin to shimmer. Shadows that form around his hand draws his curios reach 
back, and suddenly disrupted by commotion..

A bit of shadowy essence is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.
The Umbral Prison begins to swell as it fills with power and a soft voice calls 
out from within, "We are halfway there, but we need more! Be swift!"

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "We are at the halfway point of freedom."

(Glomdoring): Niico says, "We are roughly halfway there. Continue your fine work.
"

A warm wind blows through the forests, nearly knocking you from your feet. You 
lunge forward to catch yourself, yet the shadow beneath you remains still. As 
your foot lands where its head would be, it shifts out of the way, barely 
missing your step. The ground begins to rumble as it hesitantly shifts back into 
place, and you blink in astonishment, unsure of how to react.

Darkness consumes you as you find yourself by Night's side. She looks down upon 
you, and you fill with an overwhelming pride. You chase after her as she 
continues her journey, guiding you through the darkness as you seek out another 
to aide.

[ much more essence ]

A bit of shadowy essence is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.
The Umbral Prison begins to swell as the room goes completely dark. All is 
silent save for a soft, feminine voice which chants in tongues.

(Glomdoring): Veyils says, "I think that is it."

You are tossed back as the orb finally explodes, sending a wave of energy 
throughout the Glomdoring which rocks the land violently. From within the Umbral 
Prison, a beautiful, feminine figure struts forward, and the construct that once 
held her dissolves away in a wave of shimmering darkness.

(Glomdoring): You say, "That is enough essence. Come."

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "Come. The voice is free."

Masked in shadow, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "My, how great it is to be 
free once more. I thank you, Glomdoring, for your help."

Her dark, empty eyes glimmering, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "And those 
shadows... they will be bothering you no more. They were guards for my prison, 
and now that I am free, they have returned to Night's realm to be by Her side."

Crossing her legs as she stands in the centre of the chamber, Ciardha, of 
Shackled Shadows says, "Mother Night has sent me, Her sister, to aide you. She 
has sensed need of me in what is to come, and it is by Her will that I am bound 
to you."

Salome raises a supine athame of rigored Haze up and makes a circle in the air. 
A radiant torc forms from the ether and settles around her neck.

Shadowbound Niico asks, "What is to come, and how may we address you?"


Tonight amidst the mountaintops
And endless starless night
Singing how the wind was lost
Before an earthly flight

Comments

  • RancouraRancoura the Last Nightwreathed Queen Canada

    "ciardha26872"                          Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows
    "ilistala171016"                        Ilistala, an enormous leopard
    Number of objects: 2

    p ciardha
    Though masked by the shadows she swathes herself in, the korrigan is a creature 
    of extreme beauty. Tinged a silvery mauve, her skin is supple and smooth, marked 
    only by the dark inkings that decorate it. Her eyes are empty black orbs, each 
    glimmering behind lengthy lashes that tickle her brow, and she gazes out from 
    within the darkness with an almost lustful look spread over her perfectly 
    symmetrical face. Lengths of silky, ebon hair fall down her back, stopping just 
    above the knee, the occasional strand braided with a blackened vine and 
    carnivorous blossoms.
    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows is quite powerful.
    She weighs about 100 pounds.
    She has a slight resistance to poison damage.
    She has a moderate resistance to excorable damage.
    She has a moderate weakness to divinus damage.
    You cannot see what Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows is holding.
    It has the following aliases: ciardha, korrigan.

    (Glomdoring): Veyils says, "Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, sister to Mother Night 
    she says."

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "I am not sure what trials we shall face, but 
    it is my duty to assist you... however may be needed."

    Your shroud stirs, excited murmurs in your ear as a chill washes over you.

    Veyils tilts her head and listens intently to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows.

    You have emoted: Rancoura's head tilts suddenly, as though hearing something not 
    heard by all.

    You see the following people here:
    Tyamit, Xenthos, Versalean, Zilias, Indoril, Tarken, Veyils, Niico, Salome, 
    Ssaliss, Rancoura.

    You reach out and touch a phantasmal shroud of shadows.
    As your fingers brush against a phantasmal shroud of shadows a cacophony of 
    whispers fills your ears, murmuring of the past, the present and the future.

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Sister Night sensed the shadows acting 
    against Her will, and She knew that you would have need of my... talents."

    Salome slowly drifts back, the shadows around her form like the musk of ancient, 
    inky tendrils as they reach eagerly for Ciardha, of the Shackled Shadows. She 
    too pauses just as you, her eyes turning to you.

    Furiosa Salome Nightshade says to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "We give thanks, 
    Ciardha that we have granted your freedom in this time of chaos. For the Wyrd 
    requires guidance always, of every kind of talented shadow. But, what are your 
    talents?"

    Studying the ground carefully with her feet, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, 
    "Though She nor I have no sway over whatever rocks the Wyrden forest, we shall 
    do what we can to keep the shadows in their place."

    The surrounding shadows convulse, grasping outwards in joyous anticipation as 
    Nocht, the Silent suddenly materializes from the aether.

    You humbly drop one knee to the ground before Nocht, genuflecting reverently in 
    His presence.

    The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

    Salome humbly drops one knee to the ground before Nocht, genuflecting reverently 
    in His presence.

    Ssaliss bows respectfully to Nocht.

    Indoril bows respectfully to Nocht.

    Breathlessly, bowed deep before Him, you whisper, "My Lord."

    Veyils gives Nocht a respectful salute.

    Niico kneels before Nocht, swearing his allegiance to Him.

    Zilias bows respectfully to Nocht.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Her talents are many..."

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows bows gracefully before Lord Nocht as she whispers, 
    "Father."

    Turning towards Ciardha, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "To see you have survived 
    so long, My child... Such strength."

    Bowing her head, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Night has kept me... safe. 
    However She saw fit, Father."

    The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

    Salome lifts her colourless irises to the countenance of Lord Nocht, only to 
    allow her lashes to lower and drag aside to the prostrated form of you.

    l nocht
    He is a radiant immortal and alternately imposing and unassuming as He lingers 
    within the shadows, bringing the fabric of darkness to life with His very 
    presence. The stark ebony of His skin is unblemished and smooth, from the 
    aristocratic contours of His face to the slender, musician's hands. Pointed ears 
    stick out from hair of pitch black that cascades down and around His shoulders. 
    Faint pinpricks of light dance within the flowing hair, surrounding it with an 
    effervescent glimmer like starlight. The only colour in His stoic countenance, 
    His eyes are a clear, ethereal blue, each pupil rimmed in a golden starburst 
    which makes His silent, thoughtful gaze appear to pierce to the very soul. He is 
    wearing an ethereal cloak of dark violet hues, a fractured gem suspended from a 
    thin, metal chain, boots of shifting shadow and divine clothing spun from ebon 
    cloth.

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Though most of that time was by Her side, 
    much was also within that prison. Though, She saw need for my talents once more.
    "

    Nocht nods silently, His eyes glancing briefly at the bones that line the 
    borders of the room.

    look
    Amidst bones and rubble.
    A fresh gale whistles in your ears. Root and vine have overcome this strange 
    hollow carved into the chasm's side, growing over the oddly smooth walls with 
    ease. Beneath these dangling appendages, the space opens up to a musty chamber 
    filled with a murky haze of dust and decay. Bones border the entirety of the 
    room, the remains tossed up against the wall still maintaining some semblance to 
    the long, elegant beings they once inhabited. A statuesque korrigan lurks in the 
    shadows, her beauty masked by darkness. A leopard lurks in the shadows, 
    curiously watching anything that moves. An exotic king cheetah stands poised 
    here, watching his surroundings with keen interest. Fly Tyamit, Ward of the Wyrd 
    is here. He wields a putrid thornvine whip in his left hand and a nature 
    talisman in his right. Clad in matte black leather, a golden-eyed savage lingers 
    here like a living shadow. Indoril is here, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He 
    wields a shark-emblazoned shield of abyssal hues in his left hand and a mystic 
    cudgel in his right. Versalean is here. He wields a golden whip of the pious in 
    his right hand. A spectral wendigo wraith hangs here hauntingly, a groaning howl 
    rumbling deep in his throat. A frost-touched savage waits here, garbed in black 
    wolf pelts and emanating a deathly chill. A massive spider skitters here, 
    spinning her web. Shadowbound Niico is here. He wields an athame dagger in his 
    left hand. Draped in the folds of bone-white robes, a tattooed savage idles here 
    with predatory intent. Nocht, the Silent hovers here, His form enveloped in a 
    dark halo of writhing and twisting shadows. A massive spider skitters here, 
    spinning her web. Ssaliss is here, pondering thoughtfully. He wields a glowing 
    powerstone in his left hand.
    You see a single exit leading northeast.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "My child... There is another you may remember."

    Your fingertips go numb as all warmth is sapped from your limbs, stolen away by 
    a haze that slowly coalesces high above. A maddened cry escapes amidst the clack 
    clack of your chattering teeth, piercing the ever-expanding fog as Manteekan, 
    the Nightmare descends hauntingly upon the Basin of Life.

    The corners of Versalean's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.

    Maniacal whispers come in bursts as a hazy mist chills the air with its cool 
    embrace. Amidst the frigid fog, two pale eyes glow as the incorporeal form of 
    Manteekan, the Nightmare slowly coalesces within.

    Ssaliss bows respectfully to Manteekan.

    Veyils flashes Manteekan a joyous smile.

    Veyils Ysav'rai smiles broadly and says, "Hail Lord Manteekan."

    Tarken bows respectfully to Manteekan.

    With a flourish of his arm, Versalean bows deeply.

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "You called, Nocht?"

    Veyils gives the world a smart salute.

    Zilias kneels before Manteekan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Indeed, dearest Manteekan."

    Salome closes her eyes, as she gestures once more in her prostration to 
    Manteekan.

    You have emoted: Rancoura rises from her prostration before the Silent Lord, 
    gaze shifting to Manteekan and swirling with a palpable, cool darkness.

    Iorwen kneels before Manteekan, swearing her allegiance to Him.

    Gesturing to the korrigan, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I'm sure you remember 
    Our.... joint project."

    You have emoted: Rancoura's head bows to Manteekan now, hands clasped before her 
    even as she stands by her Lord's side.

    You see the following people here:
    Tyamit, Xenthos, Indoril, Niico, Tarken, Versalean, Manteekan, Veyils, Zilias, 
    Iorwen, Salome, Nocht, Ssaliss, Rancoura.

    Salome follows suit, stepping back beside her brother, and the Queen at a 
    distance.

    Indoril bows respectfully to Manteekan.

    Locking His gaze on the korrigan as He strolls idly toward her, Manteekan, the 
    Nightmare says, "Ahhh, yes, your child, Nocht. She is as beautiful as I remember.
     And still as powerful as I made her."

    A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a 
    shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.

    Niico's head slowly rises as he leans into his sister, eye following the 
    exchange closely.

    As He cups the korrigans cheek, Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "I am 
    glad to see You did not... do away with her, after My gift."

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Even back then I would not be so foolish."

    With a faint smile toward the Nightmare, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, 
    "Tidings, Lord Nightmare. Such a pleasure to see You have returned."

    l manteekan
    He is a radiant immortal and gazes sternly about from behind His icy, pale eyes, 
    rubbing His needle-like fingers together as He watches. Hanging in the air like 
    a veil of fine mist, His presence is nothing more than a chill upon the skin. 
    Transparent flesh is pulled taut over His frail, bony frame, revealing an empty 
    void that lurks just beneath it. Chin tilted to the sky, He stands with an 
    arrogance not afforded to Him by His form. A ghastly aura hangs about Him, 
    manifesting in a cool fog that gathers at His feet, the miasma roiling like an 
    impending storm. He is wearing a torturous noose of thorn and vine and billowing 
    robes of a chilled mist.
    Ghastly alabaster locks billow behind His head, each thread glowing white as it 
    whips frantically through the air behind Him. Icy mist trails behind each strand 
    as it thrashes about, slowly drifting to the ground to settle in a cloud of haze 
    that churns about His feet.

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "Indeed, child. 
    And yours as well."

    Gesturing to those gathered, Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "Now Nocht, 
    surely you will not keep the children in suspense. Do tell them of Your 
    korrigan!"

    Looking out at the gathered mortals, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "The korrigan 
    are My creation. Children of the Elder Wars, they were one of My last before We 
    left for the Void... They could move through the shadows unseen by even the 
    Soulless Ones. They were able to help many flee their attacks... in the 
    beginning."

    A shrill ringing fills the air as Manteekan bursts into a fit of deranged 
    laughter.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Though Mine is not the only hand in what you see 
    before you now."

    Nocht glances over at Manteekan, bowing His head slightly.

    Rejoining Nocht at His side, Manteekan, the Nightmare says, "And such useful 
    things they were! Surely You would not expect Me to see that squandered!"

    You have emoted: Rancoura's gaze rests upon the Lord Nocht intensely, shifting 
    to Ciardha momentarily as her story is told.

    Veyils Ysav'rai smiles and says, "They? They... hmm there are many more in 
    existence then?"

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "One of Your children who could get so 
    close to the Soulless and survive? Such power they have!"

    It is now the 9th of Estar, 465 years after the Coming of Estarra.

    You tilt your head curiously.

    Glancing over the scattered bones, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Indeed... They 
    fed upon the other fae who came to them."

    A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a 
    shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "The Firsts and others of the Sixth were... 
    displeased."

    Scoffing, Manteekan, the Nightmare says, "As They often were with My doings, 
    Nocht. But sense You not the power your child now holds?"

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I do not question it, dearest Manteekan. I was 
    right to disobey and secret them away with My Night."

    The features of Manteekan's face distort as a malicious smile grows upon His 
    face, His features frozen as if caught in a rictus of death while He stares 
    madly into the distance.

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "And by Sister Night we stayed for many years 
    too, Father. Though many did squabble, and our numbers seemed to fade. I was 
    soon the last, the others... I have not an inkling of where they may be."

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows smiles faintly as she runs a tongue over her dark 
    lips.

    Tarken smirks.

    Salome glances askance at you.

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "It... it was not until. It was not until the 
    Taint swept over this very forest that Night saw to lock me away once more."

    Quietly, you whisper to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "Yet, Sister Ciardha, we 
    have sensed other presences within the Realm of the Night of late. If they are 
    not of Your kin... know You who they may be?"

    Twirling a strand of hair about her finger, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows 
    exclaims, "It was such a joyous time! I roamed free, and we slaughtered the fae 
    of the Faethorn! Maeve did not know what power Night held at Her side!"

    The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across your lips as you glance at Salome.

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says to you, "Many things stir within Night's Realm.
     You have sensed it with the shadows, have you not?"

    You whisper to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "We have. Thus was our first 
    indication of what has turned out to be Your own presence, Sister."

    Musingly as the whisper of an ancient crackling wind, Furiosa Salome Nightshade 
    intones, "The Maeve surely shall reckon now that Mother Night is where all fae 
    should reside."

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Sister Night wished to protect me from the 
    Maeve's wrath. She knew they would not see me live for my crimes against the fae.
    "

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Which is why she sealed me in that prison, 
    with those awful guards."

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "It seems your child has made a name for 
    herself, Nocht. She is even more frightening than I knew!"

    A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a 
    shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.

    You purse your lips, deep in thought as you contemplate Salome.

    Nocht leans forward, an oppressive aura suddenly weighing down the room as He 
    places a hand on the korrigan's cheek.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Indeed.... and I am confident that she will now 
    direct this power towards the good of the Glomdoring and the Wyrd."

    Smiling softly, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Won't you, My child?"

    Smiling coyly, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Of course, Father. It is by 
    Your and Night's will that I shall serve the Glomdoring, however possible."

    Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Perhaps, a demonstration, my Lords? This talent 
    itself must be recognized and called upon for what it is." She turns to the 
    korrigan, and dipping her head gracefully, "If it is your wish, Sister."

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows runs her tongue over her teeth as she smiles widely.

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "I do suppose... the Glomdoring does not 
    yet have a way to deal with those who betray it. Perhaps You would let the 
    forest feed your child to... satiate her hunger, Nocht?"

    Quietly, raising his head, Shadowbound Niico says, "As one of the Wyrdenwood, I 
    could not bleed for the forest. If we require a willing victim, then let it be 
    my first act in faeling form again to let my blood soak the ground."

    The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

    You have emoted: A small smile touching her own lips, Rancoura inclines her head 
    towards Niico.

    Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Then so be it, My little ones. I would not be 
    accused of starving My own."

    Manteekan's face contorts into a sinister grin, revealing the points of the 
    sharpened teeth hidden beneath each pale lip.

    Niico unwinds his hand from Salome's waist and steps forward, his head bowed 
    meekly as he bows to Nocht and Manteekan before staring at Ciardha, of Shackled 
    Shadows patiently. "When you are ready."

    Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "We would not dare to assume so, my Lord."

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "Prepare 
    execution for Niico."
    Running a hand over the dark inkings that mark her, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows 
    says, "Soon the shadows shall feast upon Niico. Let us prepare."
    The darkness that swathes Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows begins to writhe in 
    anticipation as her flesh turns as black as Night.

    The sky above the forest turns dark as the shadows throughout the Wyrden wood 
    begun to vibrate with hunger.

    Niico closes his eyes and inhales deeply, absorbing the scent of his 
    surroundings.

    With a flick of her wrist, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows sends the writhing 
    darkness flying about Niico. Penumbral bindings wrap around his wrists and 
    ankles and drag him to the forest floor.
    Horror overcomes Niico's face as his body stiffens into paralysis.

    Taking slow, precise steps, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows strides towards Niico, 
    who squirms against his bindings. The forest grows silent and she takes her 
    place at his feet and the shadows begin to pool beneath her.

    Placing a hand upon Niico's brow, the blackness that covers Ciardha, of Shackled 
    Shadows's flesh begins to inch over him, slowly consuming him with darkness. As 
    the final bit of shadow leaves her, Niico's eyes open wide, revealing empty 
    sockets from which shoot streams of inky darkness towards the sky above and he 
    goes limp.
    Silence pervades the area as beams of shadow pierce the sky above before dying 
    off suddenly.
    Niico has been slain by Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows.

    Her duty fulfilled, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows steps back into the shadows, a 
    sly smirk revealing but a hint of the black ichor that fills her mouth.

    Composing herself, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Your will has been 
    enacted. Call upon me when you wish for my service once more."

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows turns the corpse of Niico over in her hands before 
    tossing it aside.
    With disinterest, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Neither I nor Mother Night 
    have any need for your toys, Veyils."

    You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

    Veyils shrugs helplessly.

    Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows utters a shrill little laugh.

    The soul of Niico says, "Nothing matters but Glomdoring."

    The soul of Niico swirls in the air like a sparkling whirlwind, then vanishes in 
    a flash of chromatic colours.

    Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Glory be to the Wyrden Wood."

    Wiping her lips clean, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows exclaims, "Such delightful 
    little things you are!"

    Softly, you whisper, "Glory ever be."

    Niico arrives from the northeast.

    Iorwen Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

    Indoril nods his head sagely.

    Manteekan, the Nightmare says, "Well, children, I shall leave you all to your 
    stories. I am sure you have many questions for the korrigan here. Do take care."

    The incorporeal form of Manteekan, the Nightmare, dissolves into a cool mist 
    which creeps hauntingly away into the distance, leaving behind naught but an 
    eerie silence and an unsettling chill.

    Nocht spares one last glance at the korrigan before taking His leave as well.

    The surrounding shadows wane, falling back in despondent melancholy as the form 
    of Nocht, the Silent dissolves into wisps of shadow.


    Tonight amidst the mountaintops
    And endless starless night
    Singing how the wind was lost
    Before an earthly flight

  • RancouraRancoura the Last Nightwreathed Queen Canada
    More discussion with Ciardha followed, but I will abstain from posting the rest because Glomdoring Secrets.

    Tonight amidst the mountaintops
    And endless starless night
    Singing how the wind was lost
    Before an earthly flight

  • Ooh, thanks for posting this.
    FOR pposters who aren't steingrim:

    image
  • Wasn't much in the way of secrets afterwards it was just general chit chat with the beast about what she does and a vague concept of a threat growing within the wyrd for anyone interested in it.
  • ShaddusShaddus , the Leper Messiah Outside your window.
    It took me 90% of that post to realise Ciardha was a mob and not an eph. :smiley:
    Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
  • edited January 2017
    Yeah, I was kinda hoping we'd get an ephemeral but a new denizen is neat in it's own right.
    FOR pposters who aren't steingrim:

    image
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