Run, Run, Don’t Shrink and Cower, join us at the Witching Hour, we’ll skip and sing in thrashing light, to smother the shrieks of endless night!
in the dark of the night, outside of town in an overgrown field, a plume of smoke and ash rises into the sky. The golden light of fire can be seen next, climbing up into the sky along with it, wrapping its burning tendrils of heat around some dreadful silhouette of a giant, more than twenty feet tall. It doesn’t move, but it does burn, and it does scream. Around the giant figure are twelve or so people, all with masks of various woodland animals, sheep, wolves, deer, goats, birds. They dance around the burning wickerman, laughing and chanting as it slowly burns. One of the figures, wearing a red rabbit mask, seems to be leading them. She holds a sickle in one hand and a wooden staff in the other, that staff topped with a woven circular symbol, in which a live spider spins its web.
An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
*Oh that’s some great timing. Wanna rp or something?*
*sure*
*Do you have a preference on who you want?£
*no. hit me :3*
*Okay, I’ll try. Let’s just focus on this for now.*
Marie is preparing as today is the day of her and Jax’s wedding. Her hair is long and well kept, and all of them promise not to turn into snakes during the ceremony. She has taken off all of her other rings, wearing her black dress and vail as she waits for her fiancé in the Broken down church, cleaned up and actually looking functional thanks to her and Lilac's efforts. She holds a bouquet of roses, though she wasn’t able to find an ordained priest that would help a grave robber.
Jax has taken up his twink form for today, and would be sweating through his suit if he could. he looks trimmed up proper, hair out of his face and groomed. Domino has agreed to lead the processio.
*Crap, gtg. be back in like 2 ish hours*
Marie happily waits for them, though she is incredibly stressed herself, she hasn’t had a wedding she’s really wanted to be a part of before, her first marriage was arranged, and now she finally had the chance at a real love. She smiles brightly underneath her vail.
Run, Run, Don’t Shrink and Cower, join us at the Witching Hour, we’ll skip and sing in thrashing light, to smother the shrieks of endless night!
in the dark of the night, outside of town in an overgrown field, a plume of smoke and ash rises into the sky. The golden light of fire can be seen next, climbing up into the sky along with it, wrapping its burning tendrils of heat around some dreadful silhouette of a giant, more than twenty feet tall. It doesn’t move, but it does burn, and it does scream. Around the giant figure are twelve or so people, all with masks of various woodland animals, sheep, wolves, deer, goats, birds. They dance around the burning wickerman, laughing and chanting as it slowly burns. One of the figures, wearing a red rabbit mask, seems to be leading them. She holds a sickle in one hand and a wooden staff in the other, that staff topped with a woven circular symbol, in which a live spider spins its web.
An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
The leader of the group turns away from the blaze of the wickerman, looking around the field to try and find out what is watching them.
Run, Run, Don’t Shrink and Cower, join us at the Witching Hour, we’ll skip and sing in thrashing light, to smother the shrieks of endless night!
in the dark of the night, outside of town in an overgrown field, a plume of smoke and ash rises into the sky. The golden light of fire can be seen next, climbing up into the sky along with it, wrapping its burning tendrils of heat around some dreadful silhouette of a giant, more than twenty feet tall. It doesn’t move, but it does burn, and it does scream. Around the giant figure are twelve or so people, all with masks of various woodland animals, sheep, wolves, deer, goats, birds. They dance around the burning wickerman, laughing and chanting as it slowly burns. One of the figures, wearing a red rabbit mask, seems to be leading them. She holds a sickle in one hand and a wooden staff in the other, that staff topped with a woven circular symbol, in which a live spider spins its web.
An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
The leader of the group turns away from the blaze of the wickerman, looking around the field to try and find out what is watching them.
They can see an absolute colossus of a man, with a big friendly smile waving over to them. Rag decides to walk over to them, the floor shaking with his steps.
Run, Run, Don’t Shrink and Cower, join us at the Witching Hour, we’ll skip and sing in thrashing light, to smother the shrieks of endless night!
in the dark of the night, outside of town in an overgrown field, a plume of smoke and ash rises into the sky. The golden light of fire can be seen next, climbing up into the sky along with it, wrapping its burning tendrils of heat around some dreadful silhouette of a giant, more than twenty feet tall. It doesn’t move, but it does burn, and it does scream. Around the giant figure are twelve or so people, all with masks of various woodland animals, sheep, wolves, deer, goats, birds. They dance around the burning wickerman, laughing and chanting as it slowly burns. One of the figures, wearing a red rabbit mask, seems to be leading them. She holds a sickle in one hand and a wooden staff in the other, that staff topped with a woven circular symbol, in which a live spider spins its web.
An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
The leader of the group turns away from the blaze of the wickerman, looking around the field to try and find out what is watching them.
They can see an absolute colossus of a man, with a big friendly smile waving over to them. Rag decides to walk over to them, the floor shaking with his steps.
She seems a small bit confused, taking a step back and raising her sickle in defense. But once she sees Ragnerious’ friendly demeanor, she begins to lower it, and she calls to the others, who stop celebrating and gather around her. A few of them have weapons, mostly farming implements. The tallest one even has a scythe.
Run, Run, Don’t Shrink and Cower, join us at the Witching Hour, we’ll skip and sing in thrashing light, to smother the shrieks of endless night!
in the dark of the night, outside of town in an overgrown field, a plume of smoke and ash rises into the sky. The golden light of fire can be seen next, climbing up into the sky along with it, wrapping its burning tendrils of heat around some dreadful silhouette of a giant, more than twenty feet tall. It doesn’t move, but it does burn, and it does scream. Around the giant figure are twelve or so people, all with masks of various woodland animals, sheep, wolves, deer, goats, birds. They dance around the burning wickerman, laughing and chanting as it slowly burns. One of the figures, wearing a red rabbit mask, seems to be leading them. She holds a sickle in one hand and a wooden staff in the other, that staff topped with a woven circular symbol, in which a live spider spins its web.
An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
The leader of the group turns away from the blaze of the wickerman, looking around the field to try and find out what is watching them.
They can see an absolute colossus of a man, with a big friendly smile waving over to them. Rag decides to walk over to them, the floor shaking with his steps.
She seems a small bit confused, taking a step back and raising her sickle in defense. But once she sees Ragnerious’ friendly demeanor, she begins to lower it, and she calls to the others, who stop celebrating and gather around her. A few of them have weapons, mostly farming implements. The tallest one even has a scythe.
He squats down to their level a little ways away as to not intrude, or as close as he can get to their level with as tall as he is. He takes his great axe off of his belt, putting it down in the ground as a show of peace, and holds out a hand to them “Nice to meet you all. I am Ragnerious, but just call me Rag.” His voice softly says.
Run, Run, Don’t Shrink and Cower, join us at the Witching Hour, we’ll skip and sing in thrashing light, to smother the shrieks of endless night!
in the dark of the night, outside of town in an overgrown field, a plume of smoke and ash rises into the sky. The golden light of fire can be seen next, climbing up into the sky along with it, wrapping its burning tendrils of heat around some dreadful silhouette of a giant, more than twenty feet tall. It doesn’t move, but it does burn, and it does scream. Around the giant figure are twelve or so people, all with masks of various woodland animals, sheep, wolves, deer, goats, birds. They dance around the burning wickerman, laughing and chanting as it slowly burns. One of the figures, wearing a red rabbit mask, seems to be leading them. She holds a sickle in one hand and a wooden staff in the other, that staff topped with a woven circular symbol, in which a live spider spins its web.
An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
The leader of the group turns away from the blaze of the wickerman, looking around the field to try and find out what is watching them.
They can see an absolute colossus of a man, with a big friendly smile waving over to them. Rag decides to walk over to them, the floor shaking with his steps.
She seems a small bit confused, taking a step back and raising her sickle in defense. But once she sees Ragnerious’ friendly demeanor, she begins to lower it, and she calls to the others, who stop celebrating and gather around her. A few of them have weapons, mostly farming implements. The tallest one even has a scythe.
He squats down to their level a little ways away as to not intrude, or as close as he can get to their level with as tall as he is. He takes his great axe off of his belt, putting it down in the ground as a show of peace, and holds out a hand to them “Nice to meet you all. I am Ragnerious, but just call me Rag.” His voice softly says.
She takes her rabbit mask off, revealing a fair skinned woman in her late thirties, with a freckled face and golden blonde hair. She wears a sort of crown woven from stalks of wheat and Barley, on top of which is a living monarch butterfly. She smiles at Rag and shakes his hand. “greetings, Rag. We’re of the Cult of the Barley King. I am Enid Spiritmalt, high priestess of the Barley King.”
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
She smiles again, taking a step back and looking to the burning wickerman. “The Barley king is the one who gave mortals that ability to grow their own food. He is the reason we have agriculture. And, probably one of his more popular gifts… he gave us alcohol. He’s the lord of abundance, deity of the harvest. Without him, crops would cease to grow.”
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
She smiles again, taking a step back and looking to the burning wickerman. “The Barley king is the one who gave mortals that ability to grow their own food. He is the reason we have agriculture. And, probably one of his more popular gifts… he gave us alcohol. He’s the lord of abundance, deity of the harvest. Without him, crops would cease to grow.”
Rag gives a broad smile at that, “I can see why you worship such a benevolent being. I wonder if I’ll meet them some day. I’m a gardener myself, and know the importance of nature in all aspects, not just growing food, but hunting it, nature is something that should be respected and protected. May I celebrate with you?”
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
She smiles again, taking a step back and looking to the burning wickerman. “The Barley king is the one who gave mortals that ability to grow their own food. He is the reason we have agriculture. And, probably one of his more popular gifts… he gave us alcohol. He’s the lord of abundance, deity of the harvest. Without him, crops would cease to grow.”
Rag gives a broad smile at that, “I can see why you worship such a benevolent being. I wonder if I’ll meet them some day. I’m a gardener myself, and know the importance of nature in all aspects, not just growing food, but hunting it, nature is something that should be respected and protected. May I celebrate with you?”
She stops smiling. “Well, this particular ritual is only supposed to be performed by members of the cult… but, uhm, tell me, is there a tavern nearby? They’re holy sites of the Barley King. I’d love to talk to you there.”
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
She smiles again, taking a step back and looking to the burning wickerman. “The Barley king is the one who gave mortals that ability to grow their own food. He is the reason we have agriculture. And, probably one of his more popular gifts… he gave us alcohol. He’s the lord of abundance, deity of the harvest. Without him, crops would cease to grow.”
Rag gives a broad smile at that, “I can see why you worship such a benevolent being. I wonder if I’ll meet them some day. I’m a gardener myself, and know the importance of nature in all aspects, not just growing food, but hunting it, nature is something that should be respected and protected. May I celebrate with you?”
She stops smiling. “Well, this particular ritual is only supposed to be performed by members of the cult… but, uhm, tell me, is there a tavern nearby? They’re holy sites of the Barley King. I’d love to talk to you there.”
He nods, standing back to his full height and pointing towards the Lord’s Rest Inn “I understand, there is some over there, it is popular around here for… all sorts of people, including gods and beyond.” He begins to walk in that direction expecting them to follow.
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
She smiles again, taking a step back and looking to the burning wickerman. “The Barley king is the one who gave mortals that ability to grow their own food. He is the reason we have agriculture. And, probably one of his more popular gifts… he gave us alcohol. He’s the lord of abundance, deity of the harvest. Without him, crops would cease to grow.”
Rag gives a broad smile at that, “I can see why you worship such a benevolent being. I wonder if I’ll meet them some day. I’m a gardener myself, and know the importance of nature in all aspects, not just growing food, but hunting it, nature is something that should be respected and protected. May I celebrate with you?”
She stops smiling. “Well, this particular ritual is only supposed to be performed by members of the cult… but, uhm, tell me, is there a tavern nearby? They’re holy sites of the Barley King. I’d love to talk to you there.”
He nods, standing back to his full height and pointing towards the Lord’s Rest Inn “I understand, there is some over there, it is popular around here for… all sorts of people, including gods and beyond.” He begins to walk in that direction expecting them to follow.
*Forgot to ask, do you want anyone else?*
she follows, gesturing to her followers to continue the ritual with the wickerman. (Which is still faintly screaming.)
”me and my acolytes perform that ritual as a sort of… way to communicate with the rest of the cult, who are hundreds of miles away at this point.” She says, pointing to the smoke rising into the sky.
He watches the flames continue to consume the wickerman before nodding along with their words “I have not heard of you and yet you speak as if you are expansive, I’ve still got lots to learn apparently.” He says with a chuckle, “Interesting ritual indeed.”
He watches the flames continue to consume the wickerman before nodding along with their words “I have not heard of you and yet you speak as if you are expansive, I’ve still got lots to learn apparently.” He says with a chuckle, “Interesting ritual indeed.”
“Well, usually you hear about the more… world ending, demon summoning cults… we’re not like that, exactly. We have around three thousand members, but most of them aren’t around here. Me and my acolytes only came here because… well, It’s a bit of a story, I’ll tell ya later.” She chuckles, skipping along with Ragnerious.
He watches the flames continue to consume the wickerman before nodding along with their words “I have not heard of you and yet you speak as if you are expansive, I’ve still got lots to learn apparently.” He says with a chuckle, “Interesting ritual indeed.”
“Well, usually you hear about the more… world ending, demon summoning cults… we’re not like that, exactly. We have around three thousand members, but most of them aren’t around here. Me and my acolytes only came here because… well, It’s a bit of a story, I’ll tell ya later.” She chuckles, skipping along with Ragnerious.
“Feel no need, we’ve all got stories, I don’t need to know yours, and don’t feel the obligation to tell me.” He opens the door once they arrive, letting them inside following behind, though he’s a little bit compared to the building itself.
He watches the flames continue to consume the wickerman before nodding along with their words “I have not heard of you and yet you speak as if you are expansive, I’ve still got lots to learn apparently.” He says with a chuckle, “Interesting ritual indeed.”
“Well, usually you hear about the more… world ending, demon summoning cults… we’re not like that, exactly. We have around three thousand members, but most of them aren’t around here. Me and my acolytes only came here because… well, It’s a bit of a story, I’ll tell ya later.” She chuckles, skipping along with Ragnerious.
“Feel no need, we’ve all got stories, I don’t need to know yours, and don’t feel the obligation to tell me.” He opens the door once they arrive, letting them inside following behind, though he’s a little bit compared to the building itself.
As she steps inside the tavern, she takes a deep breath and smiles, skipping along to a nearby table and ordering the strongest drink they have. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been to a place like this… the outdoors are truly lovely, but nothing beats the atmosphere of a lively tavern at night…” she says to Ragnerious.
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An unnatural heat fills the air, greater than anything else that could be around in the area, nearly volcanic, and whatever the source is, its watching the group from somewhere unseen, the ground shaking as the creature moves.
Marie happily waits for them, though she is incredibly stressed herself, she hasn’t had a wedding she’s really wanted to be a part of before, her first marriage was arranged, and now she finally had the chance at a real love. She smiles brightly underneath her vail.
*Take your time.*
The leader of the group turns away from the blaze of the wickerman, looking around the field to try and find out what is watching them.
They can see an absolute colossus of a man, with a big friendly smile waving over to them. Rag decides to walk over to them, the floor shaking with his steps.
She seems a small bit confused, taking a step back and raising her sickle in defense. But once she sees Ragnerious’ friendly demeanor, she begins to lower it, and she calls to the others, who stop celebrating and gather around her. A few of them have weapons, mostly farming implements. The tallest one even has a scythe.
He squats down to their level a little ways away as to not intrude, or as close as he can get to their level with as tall as he is. He takes his great axe off of his belt, putting it down in the ground as a show of peace, and holds out a hand to them “Nice to meet you all. I am Ragnerious, but just call me Rag.” His voice softly says.
She takes her rabbit mask off, revealing a fair skinned woman in her late thirties, with a freckled face and golden blonde hair. She wears a sort of crown woven from stalks of wheat and Barley, on top of which is a living monarch butterfly. She smiles at Rag and shakes his hand. “greetings, Rag. We’re of the Cult of the Barley King. I am Enid Spiritmalt, high priestess of the Barley King.”
*Cut for Arch.*
He gives them a good handshake, though not nearly one that shows his crushing strength in full “The Barley King? Forgive me, I have not ever heard of such a thing. Are they a god or something beyond even that? What are their domains? As the cult of such a being you must know, and I would be happy to learn.”
She smiles again, taking a step back and looking to the burning wickerman. “The Barley king is the one who gave mortals that ability to grow their own food. He is the reason we have agriculture. And, probably one of his more popular gifts… he gave us alcohol. He’s the lord of abundance, deity of the harvest. Without him, crops would cease to grow.”
Rag gives a broad smile at that, “I can see why you worship such a benevolent being. I wonder if I’ll meet them some day. I’m a gardener myself, and know the importance of nature in all aspects, not just growing food, but hunting it, nature is something that should be respected and protected. May I celebrate with you?”
She stops smiling. “Well, this particular ritual is only supposed to be performed by members of the cult… but, uhm, tell me, is there a tavern nearby? They’re holy sites of the Barley King. I’d love to talk to you there.”
*Punk cleric is now a punk paladin*
*And a sniper*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He nods, standing back to his full height and pointing towards the Lord’s Rest Inn “I understand, there is some over there, it is popular around here for… all sorts of people, including gods and beyond.” He begins to walk in that direction expecting them to follow.
*Forgot to ask, do you want anyone else?*
*I love it. Tell me more.*
she follows, gesturing to her followers to continue the ritual with the wickerman. (Which is still faintly screaming.)
”me and my acolytes perform that ritual as a sort of… way to communicate with the rest of the cult, who are hundreds of miles away at this point.” She says, pointing to the smoke rising into the sky.
*Cut for Arch.*
He watches the flames continue to consume the wickerman before nodding along with their words “I have not heard of you and yet you speak as if you are expansive, I’ve still got lots to learn apparently.” He says with a chuckle, “Interesting ritual indeed.”
“Well, usually you hear about the more… world ending, demon summoning cults… we’re not like that, exactly. We have around three thousand members, but most of them aren’t around here. Me and my acolytes only came here because… well, It’s a bit of a story, I’ll tell ya later.” She chuckles, skipping along with Ragnerious.
“Feel no need, we’ve all got stories, I don’t need to know yours, and don’t feel the obligation to tell me.” He opens the door once they arrive, letting them inside following behind, though he’s a little bit compared to the building itself.
As she steps inside the tavern, she takes a deep breath and smiles, skipping along to a nearby table and ordering the strongest drink they have. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been to a place like this… the outdoors are truly lovely, but nothing beats the atmosphere of a lively tavern at night…” she says to Ragnerious.