[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjcyLjE1MjI0Yy5RbXhwWjJoMC4w/gondess-demo.regular.png[/img][/center][hr] [center][h2][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFuYyHiOmXs]The Roineagan[/url][/h2][/center] An endless miasmic storm of color and experience, a maelstrom of intent and knowledge vast and endlessly expanding--compounding upon itself. The echo of the Lifeblood's mind, its essence writ into a realm--connected to the Subtle Web--wielded by the Dreaming God. Like a typhoon, its waves beat against the shores of the Endless Dream, sending swirling patterns throughout. Ripples of intent, altering consciousness, invoking madness here and there, but causing other phenomena as well. Bleeding past the pale veil through the stars and air the essence of that Dreaming Realm it cast out beyond its shores unseen. Into minds it dripped, causing dreams and fits of maddened insight. Inspiration, intimated through cascading songs of psychic might, its source seeming forever out of sight. Like a twisting, coiling tempest it struck against many minds, until finally through cracks and seams it spilled past mind and into the flow of space and time. Wounded, that endless expanding fabric--ever-compounding 'pon itself--it seeped out from the severed threads and pressed like blood into the world. Yet shriven by the too-real pressure of Galbar, that endless flowing essence was shriven and cast out wide and far. [hr] A gentle breeze, a passing cloud, birdsong in the air. A human sitting idly 'gainst a tree, using trunk in place of any chair. Calm, content, and filled to brimming with quiet happiness, that human enjoyed the world around him almost in a state of bliss. The fluttering of dewdrops against tanned, delicious skin. Flecks of water from storms now passed, the pattered onto him. Kiss of wind, and sun and sky. Leaves crumpled beneath his thigh. Eyes closed, a warmth felt from all around, and altogether a thoughtless, drifting--nature's quiet calling sound. Songs they hummed just beyond his mere mortal perspective, and though unheard eyes opened when their tune changed. The slightest crease of brow, a slight tension in his neck, then a glance from here to there, searching for something suspect. [i]"Who's there,"[/i] he said, his voice like a whispered shout. Yet no response came, for to him the song could not be heard--it did not exist and so its tune-filled him only with a strange, displaced doubt. A twisting knot, a grasp at leaves colored with autumn oranges, reds, and greens. The human Annheil could not hear that subtle thing. Again it shifted, the unheard call of Worldsong's hymn, and so a greater uneasiness began to be felt by him. He rose to feet which shook beneath, though the soil was calm and stable. He raised his voice, and took a step, desiring a return to calmness if he were able. The thunder without lightning, it shook the sky and the trees. He felt its pull, and the song struck out, pushing him down onto his knees. Shocked, stunned, and caught flatfooted he stared blankly at the ground, as finally he heard it, that fate-spun dreadful sound. It twisted its way into his ears, like slithering, sickly things. Many legs, fangs, and eyes it pressed inside his brain and reared as if to sting. Its maw opened, its claws were bared, and blades were drawn against his flesh. Yet outside his mind and in the world, he remained untouched as the Worldsong screamed at the intrusion of this strange unreal emptiness. Slowly lights within his mind they colored from prismatic to black and sickly green, the warped, and boiled and twisted until his mind was made unclean. Annhein's eyes were filled with darkness then as if drained entirely of color, for in them one could see a thing which mortals would wish they'd not discovered. Vile malice, hateful bile, a stinging nonsense song. It was a palid corpse, or a shadowed silhouette, hidden in forest's tangled branch-wrought throng. A figure in the night, one which haunted dreams. Images caught at vision's edge, or rhyming unheard voices, weaving song. Whispering suggestions from beings who did not exist. Hallucinations and fabrications which only to an individual had substance and truly persisted. A breath of silence.... [center][h1][b]. . .[/b][/h1][/center] ...it did not last for long. Annhein rose to his feet and set out to join his kin. He had to return to the village, after all...they were surely awaiting him. [hr] Eyes gazed down upon creation with a maddened haze of rage, wrath unleashed unto the world, as if it were a plague. A twisting smile, a writhing hum, claws like cutting blades. Neo-Àicheil pressed its awareness outwards and into Endless Dream he reached. Threads plucked to toneless tunes, music unheard except by one type of entity. The Chomhlionachd. Twisting skulls, crystal drillbits, bone, and gnarled wood. Burning flame. Oilslick skein, and minds like vast churning maelstroms, hungry and insane. Each a chimera of thoughts, bound by singular concepts, leashed to terrible hunger. Beautiful and vast, narrow in focus, but deeper than the minds of any other thing. Immortal and oft unseen. They gathered to the presence of the Dreaming God, attracted by his eldritch song. Its melody it wove into their minds and is it did they coiled and fled back into the Dream's endless churning space-time. Without a mouth, without a face, with only its dreaded gaze, the Eldritch Twin, the Dreaming God it smiled and laughed for an age. Slowly, its laughter receded into the aft as above it rose--prismatic gaze closed--Ѻs-fhìreach's distinctive lack. For in him madness could not swell and beneath his will though wrath did churn, its hold to him was but a far of [i]knell[/i]. The Dreaming God turned its weighted gaze away from his realm, a quiet smile in his soul. To the threshold, he moved so that he could pay a visit to another deity, a god who upon the world made sure Tragedy took its toll. [hider=Summary]The Worldweave, Àicheil’s realm, is filled with the bitter rage and hurt and discontent borne of his interaction with Cadien. The Dreaming God’s mind shifts to its third identity--Neo-Àicheil--and rages beyond control. Shuddering storms cross the Endless Dream and fill its many pathways where it is near to the world’s physical aspect. The paths become overfull and so spew out essence, creating tiny wounds in its fabric. So it is that unreal essence seeps into the world, mixes with the nature of reality, and is rendered into something halfway between the two. Astral essence is born. Held within this essence is the maddening hymn, the terrible chorus, of Neo-Àicheil’s endless pain and rage. It sets upon a man and curses him with its power, making him a hero...and the beginning of a terrible blight upon the world. Somewhat sated by this outburst, Neo-Àicheil withdraws its power back into the Subtle Weave and calls upon the Unfulfilled, conferring unto them the ability to manipulate the living through their connection to the Collective Unconscious. The Dreaming God recedes then into his realm, enough of his wrath spent so that Ѻs-fhìreach can once more take hold and keep the malice under lock and key. He sets out from his realm, in search of the God of Tragedy.[/hider] [hider=Might Summary][hider=Àicheil][u]Start:[/u] 4MP, 3DP - 4MP [Discounted: Astral Portfolio] -- Causing an extreme change: Suffusing the world with Astral currents. - 2DP -- Confer an extraordinary ability: The Chomhlionachd | Madness Puppeteering (2DP towards Madness). - 1DP -- Consecrate a Hero: Annhein | Psychic Blight I (1DP towards Madness). [i][u]Psychic Blight I[/u] -- The consecrated holds within them a contagious curse of madness. While they hold it no psychic threat can harm them, for their mind remains already inexplicably--and impossibly--broken beyond repair. This taint in their consciousness spreads like an invisible miasma around them for several feet such that proximity can result in a slow contraction of the blight. This curse builds up in the afflicted over time, driving them mad not in months, but in a span of days or perhaps weeks for those strong of will and heart. When it passes on to the next person the previous carrier is no longer contagious but remains utterly mad nonetheless. *Can only spread to 1 person at a time.[/i] [u]End:[/u] 0MP, 0DP. [i]5/5 Madness Portfolio.[/i][/hider][/hider]