The Calling

[Callum 927]

Spoiler

Only those with an accepted MA in Seer who have oocly consented to my character knowing of them through TA dreams can see this message or those with an oculi. https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/194812-mart-60-the-onyx-oculi

THE CALLING 

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Spoiler

A dream for those without an Oculi

In a space where darkness reigned with its velvet dark caress and the cold seemed to seep in from all around, eyes peered in, unable to perceive anything outside of the space besides one, circular orb. Resting comfortable within the dark. As if it belonged, as if the void of the realm that it dwelled within was its home. Its domain. It sat there. Its surface shining with an impossible light, and for but a moment. It rippled like water. And in that moment the darkness was no more. A blink. And it was gone. Gone into the ether and a new space, a new appearance had found its home within the vision of those that dared to find their sight back where it had been a moment before.

Light had returned to the eyes that beheld the world, a soft, trickling shine of the sun's welcoming rays shining down upon a humble shrine. Born from designs that were inspired by those of the children of dragons, the shrine, the church of an unknown face was cast into an almost divine, and homely glow. A sense of peace and comfort bloomed from every stone, every brick that made up the building that was before them. It beckoned one to come in, to rest their head, to let the haven that had been presented to the eyes take them to safety. More senses were found in use as the creaking of the doors of the church began to open, filling the ears of the one that found themselves going through this journey, this place. And now within the walls as the doors closed behind them with another crack. Similar to a bone snap. It echoed out. Settling over them as a sensation of tiredness, a drain upon her very souls began to pull against them. A writhing hint of shadow was caught in the corner of their eyes as their sight began to dim and grow dark. Grow empty as their sight closed and darkness reclaimed them.

But it was only a moment before everything was swimming within the shadows again. A bursting gasp escaping them as they found themselves within caverns, moving through the dark stony depths as the cold shadows stole away so much of the cavern's light, of its sight. The cutting bit of the stone stung upon touch as a chattering sound of clattering breaths, of voices whispered through the wind that flowed through the endless dark creeping space around them as they kept moving through. Deeper and deeper the patter of their feet and the sharp bite of the harsh stone sang against their skin, ruthless, cold, unfeeling. It blanketed them from all around as a pressure built up further and further behind, the creeping sounds of voices growing louder within their ears as every step they made drew the breathes closer, and closer. The chill of their presence started to be felt caressing their backs. Their words are unable to be heard, unable to be deciphered. Biting, gnawing, rattling against their mind and ears as if their breath was starting to fill them up from inside. Just as if they were about to reach their limit, their heart about to burst, their feet weak, and heavy. About to surrender to the hunting breaths against their back a new, soft, gentle sensation touched their hands. A soft silky fabric, a flash of purple to eyes that have only seen white, and black after so long within this realm. And finally. The words could be understood. “ssEeeEEeekkKKK!” And then there was no more. 

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Spoiler

A message to those with an Oculi

Soon the blackened orbs which lay over the realm of Almaris would be filled with a new picture, an aged 'Fenn would stand over the orb of his own and would speak a simple message "Meet me at the Church outside of Yong Ping within the coming Elven days" and with that the vision would move to blackness once more as the message ends










 

Spoiler

Date TBD - 124 145 582 <---Cords. Thank you to RoyalPeasant for writing this post, honestly so good.

 

[Royal Peasant 445]

Love the image you chose for this. Glad I was able to assist in writing this up! Hope you have a large turn out friend. 

[Zarsies 6036]

Amorphous clouds peel back to reveal the flapping curtains of an open window and figures within to the prying third eye of a witch in shadow. As her disembodied gaze draws into the scene the scry is suddenly cut short to which a coarse hiss arises and there, nested in the cracks and distorting rays of her coveted crystal ball, an elder elf appears with a message. He sees an obfuscated figure, her form wreathed in stark saffron silks, golden linen robes, layers of beadery and ornamental skirts, and a yellow veil which blankets her every feature with a sheet of brassy coins masking her agitated yet intrigued face. Her lips part to speak but the pale man passes swiftly and she sits in silence, alone, her stalking unfinished and mind spinning. 

 

She slunk back in contemplating, nervous silence before casting a sheet over the orb before lifting as though the mere act of walking were beneath her and floats over to a nearby locked cabinet among bookshelves and tables befitting the description altars. The furniture unlocks and opens on its own, a loyal servant, and swings wide to display a collection of similar crystal orbs shrouded by veils laying beside other occult paraphernalia; jars of black salt, bundled herbs, a necklace of finger bones, an assortment of ominous iron tuning forks, unlabeled grimoires, a golden ritual knife, and more clutter tucked away and hidden in drawers and behind walls of hanging jewelry and dusty iconography. She stares at the collection while her hands tremble beneath her veil and rub against her sides in jitters. Another call she must answer, she concludes. Another convocation of responsibilities that shake her immortal bones and threaten decades of quiet. Bitter yet dutiful, she began to bag the orbs and while her gaze climbs to a nearby mirror etched with magic. Who will she call?