For weeks now, Sanctuary has been receiving more and more people - more than had ever gathered here before - as the call to move against the Absolute is answered. Whenever you arrived, you made your camp wherever you saw fit, in the pristine natural environment, preserved through much of the destruction this world has seen, or inside one of the many structures that make up this ancient holy site. The buildings are carved out of the mountain rock itself, shaped by the high magics of people long since dead. A stream of glacial melt water trickles down the mountainside, spilling into a lake. A central temple with a large tower rising out of its base sits on the edge of the water. If you've been here before, you've no doubt witnessed its grand halls. Though pieces of it crumble now, it is still an exceptionally beautiful sight to behold.
Coming here, you might have linked up with old acquaintances, catching up, sharing news, and mourning losses.
As the sun begins to set, word travels through Sanctuary that the time has come. The council was to begin. By the time evening had set in, the main hall of the central temple was filled with the people of Sanctuary. Travelers from both near and far, united in their hatred of the Absolute.
This main hall is a large circular room with vaulted ceilings. The painted scenery on the walls is chipped in many places, forgotten depicting myths and stories from long ago. A large unlit bronze brazier sits in the middle of the room, filled with a strange ashen dust.
A cloaked man that looks to be in his fifties steps out from the crowd, moving into the center next to the brazier. Throwing back the hood, many would recognize him as Alavin Krey, once the leader of a large and prosperous mercenary guild, now destroyed and scattered for being deemed a threat by the inquisition. For many years he has been a loud proponent of striking directly against the Church, and has great influence among the many groups and individuals that make up this patchwork resistance. To a great many, he is a natural leader.
Speaking in a gruff voice, projected throughout the hall, he begins: "You all know why we're here. Let us not beat around the bush. We have suffered endless tragedies, toiled away our lives for a tyrant. You seek retribution, or justice, or freedom. I am here to give you the means!"
"For years we have searched for a weapon, for a way to strike against the Absolute. Through blood, and sweat, and sacrifice, we have found what we were looking for. Ten years ago we discovered evidence of mortals killing deities during the Divine War, in the desolate battlefield of the Southern Reach. We've been searching for how they did it ever since."
"Every deity is protected from mortalkind by seven Divine Seals. To even stand a chance at wounding the Absolute, all seven must be broken. We have discovered three so far!"
He pauses, then produces a curved blade from the folks of his cloak. "And we will break the first tonight." Exposing his bare arm, he holds it over the brazier, cutting open a wound. "The Absolute is not my god, with this act, I disavow him. From this day forward, he is my enemy. For my friends, my family, and all of Mera I swear on my life that he will be destroyed!" Drops of blood fall onto the dust inside the brazier, as he produces pair of items from his cloak. He places an amulet, a holy symbol of Ixarus on an altar, and raises a hammer high above his head. Bringing it down, he smashes the holy symbol. As the amulet shatters, flames inside the brazier roar to life, burning a sickly bright green. There are some surprised gasps and murmuring at the display, but he makes no move to silence them.
Alavin brushes the broken pieces off the altar, and puts a new amulet on it. He holds the ceremonial blade up as an offer and says, "who would join me in this endeavor?! Denounce the mad god, vow his destruction, and desecrate his marks upon the world. You will break the Seal of Righteousness, and begin your transformation into a god-slayer!"
(( I am going to assume you wish us to take the blade. ))
Ramiro walked from the crowd to the bronze brazier in the center of the hall and exchanged glances with Alavin. He looked to be a young human male, slender limbs, lithe frame, no more than twenty years old, and strikingly handsome. His golden curls bobbed beside his pale cheeks under his steady stride like golden circles of light. He wore expensive clothes under his cloak that fluttered up with his stride, revealing a faded, exquisite purple pattern that was old but kept clean. His back kept straight and he looked well-mannered. Except for the pale complexion and deep dark circles under his eyes, he did not look any out of place.
He stopped in front of the burning brazier and looked at the amulet burning in the fire. The shadows in his blue eyes reflected the dancing flames. He nodded at Alavin and turned to address the crowd.
“In a society where failure to conform usually means death, stepping outside the lines is an act of either great bravery or great foolishness.” He begins, his captivating voice distinctly firm.
“My name is Ramiro of a House that no longer exists. My family had build the foundation to play discourses at the court and in front of the throne. My father had led the voice of rebellion many years past, but he had failed. He was made an example, and we were...” he pauses for a brief second, and swallows, seemingly in pain, but he continues, “There is a kind of life that every death is a new life. Every defeat will nurture a new victory. Men are killed, but we regroup. Cities are burned down, but we rebuild. There is one thing that cannot be swayed, and that is the tenacity of men. Men who are killed never truly die, they will come back to the world, fully armed, ready to revenge their hatred.”
“For there’s one thing I know,” He says, his voice echoing the main hall, “Men reborn. Gods do not.”
His cold fingers takes the blade from Alavin, and smashes down at the holy symbol within the burning brazier. “From here onward, I disown the Absolute as my god, and I vow to see his destruction.” He repeats solemnly.
Aiden steps forward next, crossing the space between the crowd and brazier with a confident stride. Most of his features told the story of a man entering his 30's, save for his unnaturally stark white hair. Without his armor on, he wears well-traveled clothing, slightly dusty and patched up in some places, but still functional. A dark iron gray cloak hangs from his shoulders, with a raven symbol embroidered on the back.
Nodding at young man before him, he gently takes the ceremonial dagger from him, turning it over in his hands to admire it as he walks around the brazier. "There was a time we had many gods," he starts as he pricks his finger with the blade. "Some could be capricious. Cruel. Others were kind, and instructive."
"We had balance, a world in equilibrium. The mad god saw the end of that, and to what end? For thousands of years our world has crumbled around us, until now we're left with but one small corner of it." Holding his finger over the brazier, he allows a drop of blood to fall into the flames. "No god is better than just one god."
"For the sake of Mera's future, the Absolute must fall. I disavow Ixarus, and swear to bring about his end." With a swift motion he'll bring the pommel of the dagger onto the holy symbol, afterwards proffering it to the next to join them.
Late in Near the middle of the proceedings, a man – or perhaps an elf – moves from the shadows at the back of the room. All about him seems bathed in darkness until he throws back his hood, revealing a weather-worn face, dark hair and a closely cropped beard. He pauses occasionally, nodding a greeting to some in the crowd. Some of those he greets do not seem pleased to see him, but all respectfully return the greeting.
He is tall, lean, and moves with the smooth efficiency of a hunting animal. He wears simple dark leathers with two swords at his side, and on his back is a bow, with a quiver filled with black fletched arrows. His features are hard to see clearly until he climbs onto the stage, there is a recent scar plainly visible on his left cheek as his blue-grey eyes assess the crowd.
“Some of you know me, but for those who do not...I am Ulfarion Tisandriel, Wolf of Ixarus and thrice decorated champion of Inquisitor General’s office.” He looks around the room with a sardonic smile, his gaze taking in the whole audience. “I am bearer of the ruby eyes, thrice honoured by the High Priest of Ixarus himself, Right arm of the Inquisition, and Hunter of Heretics.”
“And I too renounce the Absolute as my god, call him Abomination, and vow to see his destruction.” He looks around the room with a professional eye, seeking out doubters and those who might not be what they seem.
“The time for patience is over, the time for fear is over, and the time for hiding is over.”
He holds up the amulet for all to see. “Now is the time to unite, to be bold, and to take a stand. The time to pluck out the bleeding heart of the enemy is upon us, and wewill not fail!”
As he speaks the last words he smashes the amulet and throws its remains into the flames in disgust, then walks off the stage to stand with the others, nodding to Ramiro before he takes his place. The die is finally cast. “Too much?” he whispers.
Also among the first to come forward is a half-elven woman, adorned in a set of plate armor that reflected a lighter color than regular steel. Though among many she would consider friends, she refused to part with her armor and greatsword. She had survived far too many ambushes to be so naive. Wearing no helm, her blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, save for a few rebellious strands falling down to her chin. A dark blue travel cloak adorns her shoulders, wrapping around her collar like a mantle.
As she steps forward to take the ceremonial weapon, she surveys the crowd gathered round. "I have no special words, or message. The Absolute is a tyrant, and no god of mine. I will do what I can to see that he is destroyed."
Swiftly she breaks the amulet, sweeping the remains off into the brazier.
Seeming to melt out of the crowd, Thalia joins the rest as she approaches the brazier. Slightly pointed ears stick out from beneath long straight white hair, contrasting against skin that almost has a light lavender tint to it. Over a black vest bound by maroon braided ropes she wears a translucent black shawl, held together in the front by a pin shaped as a harp. The shawl is accented with gold threads, creating dual lines of runes that run up a V-shape to her shoulders. She wears black leggings underneath a white double split long skirt, also accented with gold thread that runs down to the top of her boots. A silver circular amulet with onxy inset to depict an eclipse hangs from around her neck.
She carries on weapons with her, nor armor, and gingerly takes the dagger from the previous person. Making a quick cut on her arm, she allows the blood to drip into the brazier. "I will never worship Ixarus. He has never been my god and never will be." She says quietly, taking one of the Absolute's amulets. "He will perish, and something better will take his place." As she the words leave her lips, she smashes down on the amulet, tossing what remains of it into the fire.
After each act of sacrilege against Ixarus, the green flames of the brazier burn brighter and higher. Of the slightly less than hundred people crowded in the hall, at least a dozen took part in the proceedings. As no one else seems to step up, the face of Alavin is inscrutable. If he were disappointed or encouraged by the number that participated, reading it on his face would be a nigh impossible task. He approaches the brazier again, taking the dagger back from the last to break their seal. He speaks to the group now, but loudly enough that the rest of the chamber can hear. "By breaking the Seal of Righteousness, you have set yourselves upon an irreversible course. I cannot promise that all of you will see the end of this journey, but I swear your sacrifices will not be in vain."
He turns now to the encircling crowd, "but they will not be alone! Here we have gathered, as allies from across the realm. Even if you will not take the journey yourself, your help will be invaluable. Supplies, contacts, safe houses. These are only some of the ways you can contribute to this great effort."
"As for you, brave souls," he begins, lowering his voice. "You will be the weapons that strike the Absolute from his throne..."
The gathering lasts for only a short time after that, as Alavin continues to wax poetically of the coming rebellion to drum up support. The gathered crowd in Sanctuary seemed mostly supportive, though there was noticeable looks of disapproval on some. As people begin to filter out of the temple, he stops those of you that volunteered, waiting for the rest of the chamber to empty out.
With the seasoned eyes of a veteran he gives each person an assessing look, then nods. "I think we'll have a real shot at this."
"You're officially heathens now, are you feeling the heat yet?"
Ulf takes a deep breath, and glances at his newfound companions. "The slow game has failed me; this...this is a relief." He looks to the door through which the rest of the rebels departed. "However long it is we have until our betrayal is known, we should make the most of it. But..." he turns back to Alavin, "...not all seemed happy with our words; I had hoped to flush out any...unbelievers. If it were up to me, I would have them watched." With the faintest hint of a smile he adds, "But that is not my problem now."
(( If he actually did note those who squirmed at his strident speech, he passes on names and/or descriptions ))
"On it." Ramiro says. His skinny wrists moved slightly, and a spider crawls out under his beautifully tucked sleeve cuffs, and making its way down his pale fingers. He lowers his eyes and watches it trails away under Ramiro's mental command: to keep an eye on the nonbelievers, based on the descriptions Ulf had given. Not going too far, only to see if they are planning anything, or if they were just disgruntled individuals.
"Hmm." Ramiro hums lightly in a way that says he could elaborate but he won't, as he easily goes along, "That'll be another thing I'll have to live to see."
Ulf nods. Yep. He'll be there alright. He examines the others in their group more closely, listening to what they say and trying to recall any he might have met before.
Eleriel's eyebrows move up slightly with the words, "you think we'll have a shot at this? That's a mite less confident than how you were sounding earlier." She replies, briefly glancing at the others in the group. "So what did breaking that seal do to us? Are we going to be on the Absolute's list the moment we set foot outside of sanctuary?"
Aiden offers a shrug in response, "it'll be a refreshing change of pace to step out in the open. As far as heat goes...I'm no stranger to having a target painted on my back." He nods to others in the group of courtesy, but doesn't say anything else at this time. Rather, he listens for the response from Alavin, also curious about the effects of the ritual they just took part in.
Surveying the group of relative strangers, Thalia notices the bit of banter between two of them. "Know each other already?"
To Alavin she simply replies, "I was uncomfortable the moment I left my grove, but here I am. What's next for us? Surely the other seals aren't as easy as this."
Ulf glances at Ramiro, a faint smile on his face, "Our paths have crossed from time to time." He turns back to the half-elf and studies her with interest. "The comforts that we have previously known are lost to us now. You mentioned a grove: The ways of the wild places have always called to me. It is good to meet someone who might understand my passion -- and to be able to speak with them openly. Such things are the only comforts we have left."
Ramiro raises his shapely eyebrow in response. He tilts his head, his blond fringes shading his eyes as if he were listening to something else. The jumbled, harsh cacophony of voices in his head kept bickering and yelling, incessantly… Over the years he had learned how to repress them, tune them out, learned how not to let them gain control of his body, with only the faint spasms of his fingers giving clues that he was struggling.
His nails were cleanly trimmed and painted a smooth shade of black. An aesthetic choice, of course, but one that conveniently hid the deathly, bloodless bruise color of his nails. His eyes darted with interest between the two half-elves exchanging their common hobby, and laughs. “I am glad he finally finds someone to express his affection towards nature to. Come, I knew he was driven, but had no idea he could smoulder. I better avert my eyes like a gentleman.”
Ulf stares at the young man, his lips pursed and his head shaking slowly. His expression complex and hard to read; Exasperation and guilt, perhaps, tinged with something else. Eventually he turns back to the druid. "Ignore my friend; while his music can be among the most exquisite, if a little morose at times, he is tone-deaf to the music that surrounds him, does not hear the songs on the wind, and does not feel the rhythms of the seasons like you or I. His one true passion, it seems, it goading me."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Spider Perception:14 ((will detail findings in a few posts, after some time has passed))
The other 6 people that joined you in the ceremony remain mostly silent while the rest of you talk. They speak in low voices to one another, and from their overall demeanor you get the sense that they're already all familiar with each other, and this was something they decided on together.
Alavin watches the eight legged familiar skitter off, raising a questioning eyebrow at Ulf and Ramiro. "We need not be so paranoid, lest we become no better than the Absolute's minions. Everyone here hates that miserable immortal, there's just disagreement in how we should deal with it. I'll not stop you, but don't push it too hard." He looks at Ulf in particular, "you should already know you're not the most popular person here."
Clapping his hands together, "now, let's get down to business shall we?" He motions for you to follow, and begins to exit this large chamber towards a hallway off to the side. Speaking as he walks, he elaborates on some of the comments. "You have to understand, there needs to be a bit of theater involved in things like this. People need to be inspired." He says to Eleriel.
"As for breaking the first Seal. That's...Complicated. Ixarus is mostly omniscient, but that doesn't mean he's always paying attention. He relies on his priests, and the Inquisition to find and deal with heretics for the most part. His most hardline followers will have ominous feelings when you're around, but until you really catch his attention they shouldn't be able to identify you directly." Stopping at a door on side of the hall, he opens it and leads you into a room that could best be described as a study. Bookshelves line two of the walls, filled with texts barely held together by their old and deteriorating bindings. Maps, sketches, and diagrams coat the rest of the open space on the walls, and similar documents are spread out on both the large tables in the room. He clears the space on one table and lays out a large parchment. The symbols on it are a language none of you recognize, though two among the other six seem to perk up. "It's Celestial, or so the scholars tell me. I can't read it either. This was pulled from the hidden collection of a rather naughty archivist, shortly after he was outed as a heretic. Thankfully we were able to recover it before the entire place was torched, but we didn't have time for anything else."
"This details the first three of the seven seals, the first of which you've already broken. The next two we are aware of are the Seal of Power and the Seal of Omniscience. From what we understand, the order in which you break these doesn't matter, though in our opinion there's a pretty clear sequence you should take here."
"For the Seal of Power, you have to weaken the Absolute's hold on our world. His influence. It seems abstract, but it boils down to break his hold over the people of this world. In essence...Smash his things. If you can afflict serious damage to his image: his temples, his holy sites, and monuments...People will notice, and they'll see that he can be opposed. His strength comes from the belief of our kind."
"The Seal of Omniscience is more straightforward conceptually, but less clear as far as course of action. There are - or at least used to be - ways to hide yourself from the powerful divination prowess of specific deities, similar to the protection we have here, but mobile. This could be granted by other deities, who are conveniently all dead, or artifacts they had a hand in creating. We don't know of any specific artifact that can do this...But there's another ancient site similar to Sanctuary, but unexplored, on the side of this mountain range in the Vale." He says, pointing to a map on the wall.
"Obviously, we would recommend breaking this Seal first. Once you start to move openly against him, that will make him rather angry, and you'll find nowhere safe to hide. His followers will find you no matter where you go. Even returning to Sanctuary would be impossible, as you would expose the location. The only reason we get away with it now is because his attention occupied elsewhere."
Stopping for a moment, he looks to the lot of you, a questioning look on his face. "Following so far?"
Between Ulf’s sentiments Ramiro manages to send a subtle wink Thalia’s way that meant if you need rescue from the conversation, let me know.
“My apologies,” Ramiro has both of his hands behind his back as he addresses Alavin, “We are merely trying to be cautious. As you said, disagreements are better dealt with early on, as not to drag it out unnecessarily, or to lead to more ensuing misunderstandings. Though I have no doubt everyone here is capable individuals whom we can fully place our trust on.”
He examines the map and considers Alavin’s speech. He seems to be zoning out, lost in his own thoughts for a second, as he consults with the voices in his head, before he replies. “That sounds like a fine plan.”
For weeks now, Sanctuary has been receiving more and more people - more than had ever gathered here before - as the call to move against the Absolute is answered. Whenever you arrived, you made your camp wherever you saw fit, in the pristine natural environment, preserved through much of the destruction this world has seen, or inside one of the many structures that make up this ancient holy site. The buildings are carved out of the mountain rock itself, shaped by the high magics of people long since dead. A stream of glacial melt water trickles down the mountainside, spilling into a lake. A central temple with a large tower rising out of its base sits on the edge of the water. If you've been here before, you've no doubt witnessed its grand halls. Though pieces of it crumble now, it is still an exceptionally beautiful sight to behold.
Coming here, you might have linked up with old acquaintances, catching up, sharing news, and mourning losses.
As the sun begins to set, word travels through Sanctuary that the time has come. The council was to begin. By the time evening had set in, the main hall of the central temple was filled with the people of Sanctuary. Travelers from both near and far, united in their hatred of the Absolute.
This main hall is a large circular room with vaulted ceilings. The painted scenery on the walls is chipped in many places, forgotten depicting myths and stories from long ago. A large unlit bronze brazier sits in the middle of the room, filled with a strange ashen dust.
A cloaked man that looks to be in his fifties steps out from the crowd, moving into the center next to the brazier. Throwing back the hood, many would recognize him as Alavin Krey, once the leader of a large and prosperous mercenary guild, now destroyed and scattered for being deemed a threat by the inquisition. For many years he has been a loud proponent of striking directly against the Church, and has great influence among the many groups and individuals that make up this patchwork resistance. To a great many, he is a natural leader.
Speaking in a gruff voice, projected throughout the hall, he begins: "You all know why we're here. Let us not beat around the bush. We have suffered endless tragedies, toiled away our lives for a tyrant. You seek retribution, or justice, or freedom. I am here to give you the means!"
"For years we have searched for a weapon, for a way to strike against the Absolute. Through blood, and sweat, and sacrifice, we have found what we were looking for. Ten years ago we discovered evidence of mortals killing deities during the Divine War, in the desolate battlefield of the Southern Reach. We've been searching for how they did it ever since."
"Every deity is protected from mortalkind by seven Divine Seals. To even stand a chance at wounding the Absolute, all seven must be broken. We have discovered three so far!"
He pauses, then produces a curved blade from the folks of his cloak. "And we will break the first tonight." Exposing his bare arm, he holds it over the brazier, cutting open a wound. "The Absolute is not my god, with this act, I disavow him. From this day forward, he is my enemy. For my friends, my family, and all of Mera I swear on my life that he will be destroyed!" Drops of blood fall onto the dust inside the brazier, as he produces pair of items from his cloak. He places an amulet, a holy symbol of Ixarus on an altar, and raises a hammer high above his head. Bringing it down, he smashes the holy symbol. As the amulet shatters, flames inside the brazier roar to life, burning a sickly bright green. There are some surprised gasps and murmuring at the display, but he makes no move to silence them.
Alavin brushes the broken pieces off the altar, and puts a new amulet on it. He holds the ceremonial blade up as an offer and says, "who would join me in this endeavor?! Denounce the mad god, vow his destruction, and desecrate his marks upon the world. You will break the Seal of Righteousness, and begin your transformation into a god-slayer!"
(( I am going to assume you wish us to take the blade. ))
Ramiro walked from the crowd to the bronze brazier in the center of the hall and exchanged glances with Alavin. He looked to be a young human male, slender limbs, lithe frame, no more than twenty years old, and strikingly handsome. His golden curls bobbed beside his pale cheeks under his steady stride like golden circles of light. He wore expensive clothes under his cloak that fluttered up with his stride, revealing a faded, exquisite purple pattern that was old but kept clean. His back kept straight and he looked well-mannered. Except for the pale complexion and deep dark circles under his eyes, he did not look any out of place.
He stopped in front of the burning brazier and looked at the amulet burning in the fire. The shadows in his blue eyes reflected the dancing flames. He nodded at Alavin and turned to address the crowd.
“In a society where failure to conform usually means death, stepping outside the lines is an act of either great bravery or great foolishness.” He begins, his captivating voice distinctly firm.
“My name is Ramiro of a House that no longer exists. My family had build the foundation to play discourses at the court and in front of the throne. My father had led the voice of rebellion many years past, but he had failed. He was made an example, and we were...” he pauses for a brief second, and swallows, seemingly in pain, but he continues, “There is a kind of life that every death is a new life. Every defeat will nurture a new victory. Men are killed, but we regroup. Cities are burned down, but we rebuild. There is one thing that cannot be swayed, and that is the tenacity of men. Men who are killed never truly die, they will come back to the world, fully armed, ready to revenge their hatred.”
“For there’s one thing I know,” He says, his voice echoing the main hall, “Men reborn. Gods do not.”
His cold fingers takes the blade from Alavin, and smashes down at the holy symbol within the burning brazier. “From here onward, I disown the Absolute as my god, and I vow to see his destruction.” He repeats solemnly.
Aiden steps forward next, crossing the space between the crowd and brazier with a confident stride. Most of his features told the story of a man entering his 30's, save for his unnaturally stark white hair. Without his armor on, he wears well-traveled clothing, slightly dusty and patched up in some places, but still functional. A dark iron gray cloak hangs from his shoulders, with a raven symbol embroidered on the back.
Nodding at young man before him, he gently takes the ceremonial dagger from him, turning it over in his hands to admire it as he walks around the brazier. "There was a time we had many gods," he starts as he pricks his finger with the blade. "Some could be capricious. Cruel. Others were kind, and instructive."
"We had balance, a world in equilibrium. The mad god saw the end of that, and to what end? For thousands of years our world has crumbled around us, until now we're left with but one small corner of it." Holding his finger over the brazier, he allows a drop of blood to fall into the flames. "No god is better than just one god."
"For the sake of Mera's future, the Absolute must fall. I disavow Ixarus, and swear to bring about his end." With a swift motion he'll bring the pommel of the dagger onto the holy symbol, afterwards proffering it to the next to join them.
Late inNear the middle of the proceedings, a man – or perhaps an elf – moves from the shadows at the back of the room. All about him seems bathed in darkness until he throws back his hood, revealing a weather-worn face, dark hair and a closely cropped beard. He pauses occasionally, nodding a greeting to some in the crowd. Some of those he greets do not seem pleased to see him, but all respectfully return the greeting.He is tall, lean, and moves with the smooth efficiency of a hunting animal. He wears simple dark leathers with two swords at his side, and on his back is a bow, with a quiver filled with black fletched arrows. His features are hard to see clearly until he climbs onto the stage, there is a recent scar plainly visible on his left cheek as his blue-grey eyes assess the crowd.
“Some of you know me, but for those who do not...I am Ulfarion Tisandriel, Wolf of Ixarus and thrice decorated champion of Inquisitor General’s office.” He looks around the room with a sardonic smile, his gaze taking in the whole audience. “I am bearer of the ruby eyes, thrice honoured by the High Priest of Ixarus himself, Right arm of the Inquisition, and Hunter of Heretics.”
“And I too renounce the Absolute as my god, call him Abomination, and vow to see his destruction.” He looks around the room with a professional eye, seeking out doubters and those who might not be what they seem.
“The time for patience is over, the time for fear is over, and the time for hiding is over.”
He holds up the amulet for all to see. “Now is the time to unite, to be bold, and to take a stand. The time to pluck out the bleeding heart of the enemy is upon us, and we will not fail!”
As he speaks the last words he smashes the amulet and throws its remains into the flames in disgust, then walks off the stage to stand with the others, nodding to Ramiro before he takes his place. The die is finally cast. “Too much?” he whispers.
Also among the first to come forward is a half-elven woman, adorned in a set of plate armor that reflected a lighter color than regular steel. Though among many she would consider friends, she refused to part with her armor and greatsword. She had survived far too many ambushes to be so naive. Wearing no helm, her blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, save for a few rebellious strands falling down to her chin. A dark blue travel cloak adorns her shoulders, wrapping around her collar like a mantle.
As she steps forward to take the ceremonial weapon, she surveys the crowd gathered round. "I have no special words, or message. The Absolute is a tyrant, and no god of mine. I will do what I can to see that he is destroyed."
Swiftly she breaks the amulet, sweeping the remains off into the brazier.
#edbd00 - Gold
Seeming to melt out of the crowd, Thalia joins the rest as she approaches the brazier. Slightly pointed ears stick out from beneath long straight white hair, contrasting against skin that almost has a light lavender tint to it. Over a black vest bound by maroon braided ropes she wears a translucent black shawl, held together in the front by a pin shaped as a harp. The shawl is accented with gold threads, creating dual lines of runes that run up a V-shape to her shoulders. She wears black leggings underneath a white double split long skirt, also accented with gold thread that runs down to the top of her boots. A silver circular amulet with onxy inset to depict an eclipse hangs from around her neck.
She carries on weapons with her, nor armor, and gingerly takes the dagger from the previous person. Making a quick cut on her arm, she allows the blood to drip into the brazier. "I will never worship Ixarus. He has never been my god and never will be." She says quietly, taking one of the Absolute's amulets. "He will perish, and something better will take his place." As she the words leave her lips, she smashes down on the amulet, tossing what remains of it into the fire.
After each act of sacrilege against Ixarus, the green flames of the brazier burn brighter and higher. Of the slightly less than hundred people crowded in the hall, at least a dozen took part in the proceedings. As no one else seems to step up, the face of Alavin is inscrutable. If he were disappointed or encouraged by the number that participated, reading it on his face would be a nigh impossible task. He approaches the brazier again, taking the dagger back from the last to break their seal. He speaks to the group now, but loudly enough that the rest of the chamber can hear. "By breaking the Seal of Righteousness, you have set yourselves upon an irreversible course. I cannot promise that all of you will see the end of this journey, but I swear your sacrifices will not be in vain."
He turns now to the encircling crowd, "but they will not be alone! Here we have gathered, as allies from across the realm. Even if you will not take the journey yourself, your help will be invaluable. Supplies, contacts, safe houses. These are only some of the ways you can contribute to this great effort."
"As for you, brave souls," he begins, lowering his voice. "You will be the weapons that strike the Absolute from his throne..."
The gathering lasts for only a short time after that, as Alavin continues to wax poetically of the coming rebellion to drum up support. The gathered crowd in Sanctuary seemed mostly supportive, though there was noticeable looks of disapproval on some. As people begin to filter out of the temple, he stops those of you that volunteered, waiting for the rest of the chamber to empty out.
With the seasoned eyes of a veteran he gives each person an assessing look, then nods. "I think we'll have a real shot at this."
"You're officially heathens now, are you feeling the heat yet?"
Ulf takes a deep breath, and glances at his newfound companions. "The slow game has failed me; this...this is a relief." He looks to the door through which the rest of the rebels departed. "However long it is we have until our betrayal is known, we should make the most of it. But..." he turns back to Alavin, "...not all seemed happy with our words; I had hoped to flush out any...unbelievers. If it were up to me, I would have them watched." With the faintest hint of a smile he adds, "But that is not my problem now."
(( If he actually did note those who squirmed at his strident speech, he passes on names and/or descriptions ))
"On it." Ramiro says. His skinny wrists moved slightly, and a spider crawls out under his beautifully tucked sleeve cuffs, and making its way down his pale fingers. He lowers his eyes and watches it trails away under Ramiro's mental command: to keep an eye on the nonbelievers, based on the descriptions Ulf had given. Not going too far, only to see if they are planning anything, or if they were just disgruntled individuals.
"Old man is getting impatient." Ramiro smiles.
Ulf frowns, "Have you ever, just once, known me to be impatient lad?" He watches the spider a moment and nods.
"Hmm." Ramiro hums lightly in a way that says he could elaborate but he won't, as he easily goes along, "That'll be another thing I'll have to live to see."
Ulf nods. Yep. He'll be there alright. He examines the others in their group more closely, listening to what they say and trying to recall any he might have met before.
Eleriel's eyebrows move up slightly with the words, "you think we'll have a shot at this? That's a mite less confident than how you were sounding earlier." She replies, briefly glancing at the others in the group. "So what did breaking that seal do to us? Are we going to be on the Absolute's list the moment we set foot outside of sanctuary?"
#edbd00 - Gold
Aiden offers a shrug in response, "it'll be a refreshing change of pace to step out in the open. As far as heat goes...I'm no stranger to having a target painted on my back." He nods to others in the group of courtesy, but doesn't say anything else at this time. Rather, he listens for the response from Alavin, also curious about the effects of the ritual they just took part in.
Surveying the group of relative strangers, Thalia notices the bit of banter between two of them. "Know each other already?"
To Alavin she simply replies, "I was uncomfortable the moment I left my grove, but here I am. What's next for us? Surely the other seals aren't as easy as this."
Ulf glances at Ramiro, a faint smile on his face, "Our paths have crossed from time to time." He turns back to the half-elf and studies her with interest. "The comforts that we have previously known are lost to us now. You mentioned a grove: The ways of the wild places have always called to me. It is good to meet someone who might understand my passion -- and to be able to speak with them openly. Such things are the only comforts we have left."
Ramiro raises his shapely eyebrow in response. He tilts his head, his blond fringes shading his eyes as if he were listening to something else. The jumbled, harsh cacophony of voices in his head kept bickering and yelling, incessantly… Over the years he had learned how to repress them, tune them out, learned how not to let them gain control of his body, with only the faint spasms of his fingers giving clues that he was struggling.
His nails were cleanly trimmed and painted a smooth shade of black. An aesthetic choice, of course, but one that conveniently hid the deathly, bloodless bruise color of his nails. His eyes darted with interest between the two half-elves exchanging their common hobby, and laughs. “I am glad he finally finds someone to express his affection towards nature to. Come, I knew he was driven, but had no idea he could smoulder. I better avert my eyes like a gentleman.”
Ulf stares at the young man, his lips pursed and his head shaking slowly. His expression complex and hard to read; Exasperation and guilt, perhaps, tinged with something else. Eventually he turns back to the druid. "Ignore my friend; while his music can be among the most exquisite, if a little morose at times, he is tone-deaf to the music that surrounds him, does not hear the songs on the wind, and does not feel the rhythms of the seasons like you or I. His one true passion, it seems, it goading me."
Spider Perception: 14
((will detail findings in a few posts, after some time has passed))
The other 6 people that joined you in the ceremony remain mostly silent while the rest of you talk. They speak in low voices to one another, and from their overall demeanor you get the sense that they're already all familiar with each other, and this was something they decided on together.
Alavin watches the eight legged familiar skitter off, raising a questioning eyebrow at Ulf and Ramiro. "We need not be so paranoid, lest we become no better than the Absolute's minions. Everyone here hates that miserable immortal, there's just disagreement in how we should deal with it. I'll not stop you, but don't push it too hard." He looks at Ulf in particular, "you should already know you're not the most popular person here."
Clapping his hands together, "now, let's get down to business shall we?" He motions for you to follow, and begins to exit this large chamber towards a hallway off to the side. Speaking as he walks, he elaborates on some of the comments. "You have to understand, there needs to be a bit of theater involved in things like this. People need to be inspired." He says to Eleriel.
"As for breaking the first Seal. That's...Complicated. Ixarus is mostly omniscient, but that doesn't mean he's always paying attention. He relies on his priests, and the Inquisition to find and deal with heretics for the most part. His most hardline followers will have ominous feelings when you're around, but until you really catch his attention they shouldn't be able to identify you directly." Stopping at a door on side of the hall, he opens it and leads you into a room that could best be described as a study. Bookshelves line two of the walls, filled with texts barely held together by their old and deteriorating bindings. Maps, sketches, and diagrams coat the rest of the open space on the walls, and similar documents are spread out on both the large tables in the room. He clears the space on one table and lays out a large parchment. The symbols on it are a language none of you recognize, though two among the other six seem to perk up. "It's Celestial, or so the scholars tell me. I can't read it either. This was pulled from the hidden collection of a rather naughty archivist, shortly after he was outed as a heretic. Thankfully we were able to recover it before the entire place was torched, but we didn't have time for anything else."
"This details the first three of the seven seals, the first of which you've already broken. The next two we are aware of are the Seal of Power and the Seal of Omniscience. From what we understand, the order in which you break these doesn't matter, though in our opinion there's a pretty clear sequence you should take here."
"For the Seal of Power, you have to weaken the Absolute's hold on our world. His influence. It seems abstract, but it boils down to break his hold over the people of this world. In essence...Smash his things. If you can afflict serious damage to his image: his temples, his holy sites, and monuments...People will notice, and they'll see that he can be opposed. His strength comes from the belief of our kind."
"The Seal of Omniscience is more straightforward conceptually, but less clear as far as course of action. There are - or at least used to be - ways to hide yourself from the powerful divination prowess of specific deities, similar to the protection we have here, but mobile. This could be granted by other deities, who are conveniently all dead, or artifacts they had a hand in creating. We don't know of any specific artifact that can do this...But there's another ancient site similar to Sanctuary, but unexplored, on the side of this mountain range in the Vale." He says, pointing to a map on the wall.
"Obviously, we would recommend breaking this Seal first. Once you start to move openly against him, that will make him rather angry, and you'll find nowhere safe to hide. His followers will find you no matter where you go. Even returning to Sanctuary would be impossible, as you would expose the location. The only reason we get away with it now is because his attention occupied elsewhere."
Stopping for a moment, he looks to the lot of you, a questioning look on his face. "Following so far?"
Between Ulf’s sentiments Ramiro manages to send a subtle wink Thalia’s way that meant if you need rescue from the conversation, let me know.
“My apologies,” Ramiro has both of his hands behind his back as he addresses Alavin, “We are merely trying to be cautious. As you said, disagreements are better dealt with early on, as not to drag it out unnecessarily, or to lead to more ensuing misunderstandings. Though I have no doubt everyone here is capable individuals whom we can fully place our trust on.”
He examines the map and considers Alavin’s speech. He seems to be zoning out, lost in his own thoughts for a second, as he consults with the voices in his head, before he replies. “That sounds like a fine plan.”