CaptainBritton
Fetzen
BOOM
JohnRoleplay
puddingpunter
Izurich
Shin Ghost Note
Dark Cloud
FulgrimLives[THEME]
The harpy eagle Ykka devoured his prey while Nadira performed harumancy with its entrails, exacting her divinations through subtle arrangements of tiny bones and emerald plumage. The green rain cast small ripples through the blood as it yielded its answers to her questions. The twin stars had already begun to enter partial phase overhead, heralding the shift in the Color of the World that would perturb nature and fate alike; it was not the first time Nadira would witness the Breaking. Many powers moved when causality came unmoored from its usual shoring.
Twice before she reached the edge of the forest hinterlands, her path strayed across human hunters taking advantage of new life breathed into the woodland by unseasonal warmth. Training arrows upon a vulpine shadow, they found themselves peering into golden eyes and the womanly face of a Sidereal Sister, creased by a lifetime of secrets into a wrinkled labyrinth. Both men lowered their bows and murmured their forgiveness into the tree branches in the hope the wind might carry their words back to the Witch of Midwinter on the rustling leaves.
Here in the forest that was her roh, all knew to respect the Red Witch Nadira.
In days to come there would be many sightings of foxes throughout the hamlets and small farming communities across Stakris. Children playing in the fields often looked skyward when they found themselves standing in the shadow of the great harpy eagle that soared far overhead. South and east the wind and their will carried them, though not along the usual footpaths conveying trade between settlements. Their journey passed over shrubland and into forest glades, creeping at last up the alpine slopes of the northernmost peaks of the Arrowfalls.
At night Nadira listened to choruses of toads sing to her of upset cycles across the wilderness. During the day she watched butterflies float dreamily through fields of flowers that should not be in bloom. Not even Trespassers wandered this far out beyond the edge of civilization. There was no one to drink from the crystalline streams the Red Witch followed in the forgotten world, one still smelling of moss and animal musk and humming with the mystery of the virgin earth.
As Ykka and Nadira descended towards the primordial lake that loomed pristine in the heart of the small valley, they passed a squat circular watchtower, its masonry evocative of the Age of the Gods. A crumbbling sentinel, extinct from living memory for far longer than it had ever been given a purpose.
Or so it seemed. Beneath the tower a cavern gouged the hillside, descending deep into the belly of the land. Ykka refused to enter the chthonic depths with Nadira, knowing she sought to consult another of the ancient things haunting the bones of the world. Ykka did not trust it, and told her he would seek help if she did not emerge. Afterwards, alone, the old woman's first steps carried her past primitive paintings that gave way to damp stone. The rock told its own story, one of how these caves had been hewn by a great river in a time beyond kenning, and even now Nadira felt the weight and pressure of the lake as she went lower and lower into the bowels of the cave.
The tunnel emerged into an earthen grotto, air permeated with the stench of rotting mud. A green pool of water half-congealed with slime stretched before the far wall. The lair was clearly inhabited, a squalor of rudimentary furniture and curious objects strewn throughout. A short round table occupied the center of the room and upon it rested the implements for drinking tea, two priceless cups cut from the finest porcelain and inlaid in geometric floral patterns. Leaves and herbs rested in the bottom of a vessel at the center of the table.
The Red Witch took her seat and waited. Time passed strangely so deep below the skin of the world. After a time she heard the whistling of a kettle and glanced to the side to see water heating on a clay stovetop, a fire crackling in the oven's belly as it must have been since long before she arrived. Nadira did not rise.
After only a moment, ripples disturbed the stillness of the slimy water. The creature that emerged was covered in the soft pink flesh of a being incomplete in its development, though the Red Witch knew it was older than her by far. The ancient salamandroid hauled itself on many small hands from the brackish water and onto the stone. The worm lizard possessed many segments, its distal half smooth save the long caudal fin atop its vast, coiling body. Massive gill stalks crowned its skull, each covered in filtration appendages twitching as if scathed by the air. A few shuddering gasps convulsed across its wriggling body.
For many long moments it gave no indication it was aware of Nadira's presence, lumbering slowly across the room to retrieve the hissing kettle. After several ponderous minutes its alien face regarded her from across the table, one hand tipping the spout to steep their tea in hot water.
Nadira, it said in syllables stretched long and slow over a watery, wheezing exhalation. A delight to receive an unexpected visit for tea from an old friend.
At some point it brandished an old fashioned pipe and ignited it with a singular fingertap. Her predecessor had brought her to the lair of the amphibious leviathan for the first time when she was a girl, and she wondered how many of the Sidereal Sisters had sat in the cave of the dragon-worm to drink its tea and discuss destiny.
Play the harlequin if you must, but I know you've seen it. The same dream. Nadira gestured so that the vapors rising from the tea leaves suggested the joining of two great lights, blue and yellow, and a million emerald sparks...
You know the Breaking is nigh.
── ykka & nadira ──
── •⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• ──
── •⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• ──
The harpy eagle Ykka devoured his prey while Nadira performed harumancy with its entrails, exacting her divinations through subtle arrangements of tiny bones and emerald plumage. The green rain cast small ripples through the blood as it yielded its answers to her questions. The twin stars had already begun to enter partial phase overhead, heralding the shift in the Color of the World that would perturb nature and fate alike; it was not the first time Nadira would witness the Breaking. Many powers moved when causality came unmoored from its usual shoring.
Twice before she reached the edge of the forest hinterlands, her path strayed across human hunters taking advantage of new life breathed into the woodland by unseasonal warmth. Training arrows upon a vulpine shadow, they found themselves peering into golden eyes and the womanly face of a Sidereal Sister, creased by a lifetime of secrets into a wrinkled labyrinth. Both men lowered their bows and murmured their forgiveness into the tree branches in the hope the wind might carry their words back to the Witch of Midwinter on the rustling leaves.
Here in the forest that was her roh, all knew to respect the Red Witch Nadira.
In days to come there would be many sightings of foxes throughout the hamlets and small farming communities across Stakris. Children playing in the fields often looked skyward when they found themselves standing in the shadow of the great harpy eagle that soared far overhead. South and east the wind and their will carried them, though not along the usual footpaths conveying trade between settlements. Their journey passed over shrubland and into forest glades, creeping at last up the alpine slopes of the northernmost peaks of the Arrowfalls.
At night Nadira listened to choruses of toads sing to her of upset cycles across the wilderness. During the day she watched butterflies float dreamily through fields of flowers that should not be in bloom. Not even Trespassers wandered this far out beyond the edge of civilization. There was no one to drink from the crystalline streams the Red Witch followed in the forgotten world, one still smelling of moss and animal musk and humming with the mystery of the virgin earth.
As Ykka and Nadira descended towards the primordial lake that loomed pristine in the heart of the small valley, they passed a squat circular watchtower, its masonry evocative of the Age of the Gods. A crumbbling sentinel, extinct from living memory for far longer than it had ever been given a purpose.
Or so it seemed. Beneath the tower a cavern gouged the hillside, descending deep into the belly of the land. Ykka refused to enter the chthonic depths with Nadira, knowing she sought to consult another of the ancient things haunting the bones of the world. Ykka did not trust it, and told her he would seek help if she did not emerge. Afterwards, alone, the old woman's first steps carried her past primitive paintings that gave way to damp stone. The rock told its own story, one of how these caves had been hewn by a great river in a time beyond kenning, and even now Nadira felt the weight and pressure of the lake as she went lower and lower into the bowels of the cave.
The tunnel emerged into an earthen grotto, air permeated with the stench of rotting mud. A green pool of water half-congealed with slime stretched before the far wall. The lair was clearly inhabited, a squalor of rudimentary furniture and curious objects strewn throughout. A short round table occupied the center of the room and upon it rested the implements for drinking tea, two priceless cups cut from the finest porcelain and inlaid in geometric floral patterns. Leaves and herbs rested in the bottom of a vessel at the center of the table.
The Red Witch took her seat and waited. Time passed strangely so deep below the skin of the world. After a time she heard the whistling of a kettle and glanced to the side to see water heating on a clay stovetop, a fire crackling in the oven's belly as it must have been since long before she arrived. Nadira did not rise.
After only a moment, ripples disturbed the stillness of the slimy water. The creature that emerged was covered in the soft pink flesh of a being incomplete in its development, though the Red Witch knew it was older than her by far. The ancient salamandroid hauled itself on many small hands from the brackish water and onto the stone. The worm lizard possessed many segments, its distal half smooth save the long caudal fin atop its vast, coiling body. Massive gill stalks crowned its skull, each covered in filtration appendages twitching as if scathed by the air. A few shuddering gasps convulsed across its wriggling body.
For many long moments it gave no indication it was aware of Nadira's presence, lumbering slowly across the room to retrieve the hissing kettle. After several ponderous minutes its alien face regarded her from across the table, one hand tipping the spout to steep their tea in hot water.
Nadira, it said in syllables stretched long and slow over a watery, wheezing exhalation. A delight to receive an unexpected visit for tea from an old friend.
At some point it brandished an old fashioned pipe and ignited it with a singular fingertap. Her predecessor had brought her to the lair of the amphibious leviathan for the first time when she was a girl, and she wondered how many of the Sidereal Sisters had sat in the cave of the dragon-worm to drink its tea and discuss destiny.
Play the harlequin if you must, but I know you've seen it. The same dream. Nadira gestured so that the vapors rising from the tea leaves suggested the joining of two great lights, blue and yellow, and a million emerald sparks...
You know the Breaking is nigh.
