What an honour. @Nocht
Things were so much prettier with the violet and black colours, but this will have to do for now.
Annex of Wyrden Scriptures.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. Stylish lines
form the chic design of a sable black couch set invitingly down in the vicinity.
Carved from dark, gleaming wood, this beautiful desk has been placed against the
wall. A sturdy chair of polished darkwood has been placed here. A painting of "A
Twilit Sky" is proudly exhibited on a nearby wall. Bursting with excitement,
Elsa Fallows paces around in circles and chews her hair. You may use the LIBRARY
You see a single exit leading out.
A faint chill creeps down your spine as the shadows whisper your name from the
dark corners of the library.
You purse your lips, deep in thought.
It is now the 1st of Urlachmar, 475 years after the Coming of Estarra.
A sudden thrumming fills the air as a vibrating Divine portal opens up directly
before you, wavering madly before settling in the air, strange colours and
pathways flowing beyond.
An oval-shaped tear in the air, this portal vibrates rapidly, its form quickly
expanding and retracting as it floats weightlessly. A low-pitched thrumming
sound emanates from the portal, whatever power is sustaining it easily opening
the path between the aetherways for mortals to travel, although something about
the movement of the portal makes it appear temporary.
It is strangely weightless.
It has the following aliases: exit, portal.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across your lips.
As you step into a vibrating Divine portal you are momentarily deafened by the
thrumming of the portal, distracting you from the fact that you have just
stepped out into nothingness, though this uneasy realisation has barely struck
you before your legs are compelled to take another step, and you emerge through
an identical portal.
There is nothing here. An endless Void without any discernible form or
boundaries. Endless, silent nothingness. Filling the air with a low-pitched
thrum, a vibrating Divine portal floats here.
You see a single exit leading through a vibrating Divine portal.
You are standing in the Divine Havens.
You cannot glean any information about your surroundings.
You are in the Prime Material Plane.
A vibrating Divine portal begins to fluctuate, thrumming loudly for a moment
before it is suddenly still, and then simply vanishes from existence.
You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.
Your breath echoes across the endless expanse for several moments before all
falls silent once more.
You have emoted: Rancoura tilts her head, shadowflames swirling as her lazuline
eyes seek to pierce the impenetrable dark of the void.
As your stance shifts, circles of violet energy cascade outwards from you like
ripples in a pond until they fade out of sight in the impossible distance.
You have emoted: Rancoura's phantasmal wings draw closer to her shrouded form,
the cascading shadows nigh frozen as they still. The demidivine's gaze follows
the spreading hues, her figure statuesque and silent in her observation.
A soft voice pierces the void, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere,
"Rancoura... Last Queen of My Night's coven. First leader of the Auguries.
Servant of Mine for centuries...."
The voice continues, "And the time for your reward has come..."
You have emoted: Rancoura , aware now of her Lord's presence, bows her head
deeply, pressing both slender hands to her chest. She exhales once more, slowly,
lightly, form utterly still in reverence of the Silent Lord.
The entire ground shudders and you feel as if the world has tilted on its side -
the voice whispers up from the ground, speaking to your thoughts, "Kneel,
Rancoura... and visualize that which you have earned. Will it to be."
You have emoted: At once, Rancoura descends to her knees, falling like a fluid
coursing of shadows, her form so encompassed by the essence of the very dark.
Head still bowed, the demidivine's eyes flutter closed, and her thoughts fill
with the adumbral, ever-reigning realm of Silence, and cool, delicate presence
within; Caihel, a silent melody within the stillness, pure yet cimmerian,
beauteous yet deadly.
The ground shifts and buckles, beginning to move around you. Cold. Wet. Water.
It rushes past you, from where and to where impossible to tell. Gentle arcs of
wyrden power blossom where it brushes past you, a gentle illumination in the
nothingness of this place.
As her surroundings shift, her words so quiet, barely a decibel within the Void,
you whisper, "I am... Ole'noc Caihel."
This place reacts immediately, a large pulse of violet energies spiraling
outwards - brief glimpses of impossible things on the horizon.
The darkness whispers to you in a thousand, soft voices, "Rancoura of the Coven..
.. Rancoura of the Auguries... Rancoura of the Silent Melody..."
You feel something tug on you and the water seems to rise, submerging almost all
of you in its icy embrace.
The myriad voice whisper in your ear, "You will sing the song with no words. The
truth that only His can hear."
You have emoted: Slowly, in the midst of the violet thrums of power, Rancoura
spreads her arms, her head tilting back in exultation, delicate lips parting as
the chill washes over her, the susurrations caressing her to the very core of
Suddenly you feel a hand grab yours and pull you under. The cold bites at the
flesh, and for several moments you float weightlessly through the abyss until
finally breaking the surface once more in a new place entirely.
Cold air whips around you as you descend through the shadows, alighting
gracefully on a platform of glowing crystal.
A flooded ledge overlooking the Abyss.
The wind seems to die down here, leaving only the faint melody of trickling
water in the air. The walkway expands into a shelf that juts out from the
mountainside here, flooded with icy waters that seem to perfectly reflect the
inky darkness of the surrounding Abyss, leaving its exact edges dangerously
indistinct. The shallow basin of freshwater seems to continually be fed from
somewhere below, the excess water gently spilling over the cliff's edge and down
towards the hidden ground far below. Nocht, the Silent hovers here, His form
enveloped in a dark halo of writhing and twisting shadows.
You see a single exit leading northwest.
You are transported by the power of the Divine.
You humbly drop one knee to the ground before Nocht, genuflecting reverently in
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Good morning, My little one."
Turning His gaze to look at the Abyss below, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "This
is to be the spot. Here we will form our bond anew, Rancoura."
You have emoted: Hands held firmly against her chest, her form bowed as she
knees before her Lord, Rancoura's low voice is breathless as she greets, "My
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
Turning His gaze back upon you, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "You are ready,
Nocht hovers into the air, and closes His eyes - His arms extended on either
You have emoted: Rancoura slowly raises her gaze to Nocht, the pale flames
captured within her eyes stilling utterly in anticipation. She says nothing, but
the intensity of her gaze conveys her determination, her devotion, her utter
loyalty to the God before her.
Reality seems to strain and buckle as the Silent Lord holds His arms upwards,
flaring tendrils of divine energy wrapping around the entire area.
The energies swirl around the area, slowly at first, but picking up speed as
time passes. Violently they crash back and forth until Nocht is able to contain
it all in a single, shimmering orb of wyrdenflame.
Opening His eyes, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Rancoura, of the Glomdoring. From
this day forward you shall walk among mortal-kind as My voice. My herald. My
Breathlessly, as she gazes upon her Lord, you whisper, "Eternally Yours, Silent
Nocht gestures towards you sharply and the orb of shimmering wyrdenflame slams
into you. For a brief eternity your connection to the Silent Lord is absolute.
You glimpse millennia of life, death, battle, creation, and destruction - you
sense the impossible star that is an Elder God's spirit as it roars next to your
own flickering shard. For several seconds it seems that your mind may break, but
then all is silent once more, and it is only you and the Elder God on the
Nocht has imbued you with great powers, use them wisely.
Nocht smiles softly.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "So it shall be."
You have emoted: Rancoura's entire form shudders as the weight of her newfound
powers descends upon her; but the instability is fleeting, for she straightens,
her being -- physical, mental and spiritual, has found a new strength as well.
Undulations of unfettered umbration lash about her figure, and her eyes open --
flickering between lazuline and violet, their ethereal hues fluctuating between.
Her new eyes finding her Lord, you whisper, "My Lord... Your faith in me shall
reign supreme, and all shall know Your name -- for it shall be whispered to them
within the stillness of their dreams."
Breathlessly, her voice melodic as it is quiet, you whisper, "I am Your Ole'noc
Caihel, and I shall be heard."
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Your next task, My little one... to learn the arts
You have emoted: Rancoura nods, fluidly, her lazuline-violet gaze roaming across
the ledge, and the Abyss below.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Be well, Rancoura. There is still much to do."
Nocht smiles softly.
The surrounding shadows wane, falling back in despondent melancholy as the form
of Nocht, the Silent dissolves into wisps of shadow.