Completed 1: Premonition

[Asuego 'Susanna']

The many have been assembled, now standing in the darkness, each between twin menhirs arranged in a large circle.
What personal motives they had, were long irrelevant now.

Within the cromlech was only darkness.
The night was without a moon, without the stars, without a witness to behold its sight.
Something cut through flesh, and a goat's wailing had gone silent.
...


A candle grew bright as a young maiden in the centre waved her hand from the flame, lit seemingly out of nothing. Her face was of otherworldly beauty, gazing blankly ahead before turning her attention towards the altar behind her.

Blood from the perished goat stained the side of the stone, dripping towards the ground. From there, the cutter witch turned around, walking towards the light of the bright candle.

Her eyes flickered red like those of a woodland beast when met in the shine.
"Apologies for the gloom, but none shall witness us in this act." The witch murmured while in her grip, holding a chalice filled with blood. She touched its edge with her forehead before lifting it in the air.
The moon slowly uncovered from behind thick clouds, Pneria was a week before turning full.

She lowered the chalice and took the arthama off her belt. The vile blade was wawed and black, glistening in the moonlight.
"Come," She beckoned.

 

[Harrier]

Some mages disdained this manner of witchcraft. Some felt a tantalizing, half-taboo frisson as they exoticized the practice. Harrier Wren had felt both ways, but not for a long time. Tonight she took this ritual at face value and focused on its possible outcomes.

The pale witch had an interesting reputation, local but profound. A distinct practitioner with no known ties to the great schools or the named traditions. Half ideologue, half pragmatist. A useful acquaintance to make.

Harrier put down the hood of her weathered cloak and stepped into the circle, walking stick in hand.

"I'm here. How can I help?"

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

Eyes of the assistant shifted from side to side before settling back at the party.

The cutter-witch gave an utmost warm smile before gazing down at the chalice. The tip of the Arthame slowly descended onto the cup of blood. »May I ask for your hand.«

 

[Freya Thrakin]

The Nord looked over the assembled group, an odd collection of curious mages, hunters and all that lay between. Before them was the white witch responsible for gathering them here, an infamous figure renowned for her magic and admittedly dubious morality, her hand grasping a cup of crimson blood. Witches were not uncommon within the Eretejva Tundra, but she never came face to face with one in her youth. Looking at the pale witch now, she could tell why they were the thing of fairy tales and legends.

When she heard rumors of the ritual, she was intrigued. It had been some time since she had last gone out on a proper hunt, and this provided the perfect opportunity. Her gaze followed the mage that stepped forward, watching the interaction with a clear interest in her eyes, before stepping forward herself.

 

[Harrier]

"Flattered but taken," said Harrier, deadpan. She stepped forward again, presenting the witch with her open hand. Presumably there'd be a blade in her immediate future. That ritual knife might or might not be clean of filth and/or enchantment. There was a non-negligible risk here, and unearned trust. She put her hand out anyway-

-then flipped it around and pulled her sleeve up past the elbow. She tapped the meat of her forearm, on the outside. An infection there had less potential to steal the function of her hand. "Take the blood there, if it won't disrupt your work."

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

The assistant almost chuckled but placed herself in good composure once more.

Susanna shook her head slowly in a light smile.
» Very well. « It truly did not matter much.
» The earthern mother is our witness in this pact, she holds my oath to you, « the witch lightly cut into her left arm, before cutting onto Harrier's forearm. The wound on the necromancer magically shifted its shape into a branched rune.

The witch observed.
» And the earthern mother holds your vow to me, in seven day's time, no sooner and no later, bring forth the golden locks of the earthern goddess...«

Susanna stepped back after the cryptic task, beckoning to Freya to step forward.

 

[Freya Thrakin]

Freya nodded, coming forward to the witch when beckoned forth. She mimicked the motion of the mage, pulling back her sleeve to reveal a bare forearm. She thought about what her task could be, and if they would all be as vague in their wording as procuring the 'golden locks of the earthen goddess.'

Regardless, she was sure she could handle it. "I'm ready."

 

[Harrier]

Earth goddess. Golden locks. Nothing came immediately to mind. This was going to be a Problem, but the enjoyable kind. Harrier rinsed the cut on her forearm with strong, stinging alcohol as the Maesters of Elbion had taught her. Better a little extra pain now than more later. Alcohol killed filth, after all.

As the second participant added her blood to the ritual, Harrier went back to where she'd left her pack leaning on a monolith. She removed a clean rag and knotted it around her forearm with a dab of poultice. The herbs would draw out (or at least highlight) any malevolent enchantment she might have missed. For a homeless necromancer, paranoia counted as an essential survival skill.

Golden locks, earth goddess. Earthen goddess. Hm.

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

The witch came to Freya, but remained within the candle's light.
» And for you, the earthern mother holds my oath for you, and she holds your vow to me.« The witch cut dipped her blade onto the chalice before pressing the tip into the Nord, the wound then shifting into three lines.

» No sooner nor later than seven days from today, bring me the might of the brown one. «

 

[Freya Thrakin]

Freya furrowed her brow at the quest, pulling her arm away once the ritual was complete. Taking a few steps away, she tugged her sleeve down to cover the wound. She considered what the cryptic statement could mean, repeating it over and over in her mind: 'The might of the brown one.'

This would certainly be interesting, at the very least.

 

[Harrier]

###​

In a private clearing, Harrier set up her jade pen, ground ink, and laid out paper on a flat stone. The pen held the bound spirit of the scholar al-Kaateb. It started writing.

"Golden locks of the earthen goddess," said Harrier. "Earthen could mean pottery. Earthen goddess could be a location, a being. It could just be an ear of corn, of course, but let's cover our bases."

A trio of shabby undead pigeons cooed off key. Harrier let them out of their cage as she read the option that al-Kaateb had jotted down. It was a reach, but no more so than the other two that came to mind.

"You, go get me a ripe ear of corn." Undead pigeon number one fluttered off.

"You...go get me some hair from a blonde dryad." The pigeon looked at her quizzically. She drove sights and smells into its limited mind. "Blonde. Dryad." It fluttered off in a confused kind of way. "Just don't scalp her," Harrier yelled in its wake.

"And you," she said to pigeon number three, "there's an old stone statue of the minor goddess Pilawni in Alliria. It used to be gilded but now it's just ugly. Go peck off a little of the leftover gilding from a crevice." She gestured vaguely at her hair. "Somewhere in the head area. No? Not understanding? All right, let's go through this again..."

In theory, part of the joy of being a necromancer was not having to do your own fetch errands. In practice, however, there was little joy in explaining things to the undead. Pigeons or not.

 

[Runa]

She arched a brow watching with interest, being one with the ability of magic within her, how could she not watch.

It was clear that her enchanting was strong but she was quick at learning and she always wondered if she could learn more.

She awaited her turn, wondering how this was going to effect her, then again she had been on many trials and barely survived them all, but she did survive.

 

[Erwin Geschwind]

"Oh!..blood...ritual...fantastic...always a good sign...not culty at all..." Perhaps someone heard him, perhaps they did not. A hunter of sorts sat on the edge of the group, his eyes were watching the magic unfolded in front of him. Though unlike the other, his face was not filled with intrigued, rather the expression was a mix of uncertainty and doubt. In short, the archer looked at the witch like she belonged in an insane asylum.

This really would be the last time he took an independent contract from that particular contractor. First the warewolves, now this. Mercenary work was hard.

Still, the archer kept to himself as he watched on. Better not disturb the witch, least she turns him into a chicken or a frog. He was here to do a job and get paid what small sum he was offered. Little he know, this was not going to be as simple as he thought...

 

[Ace]

The dog had been looking between all the occupants gathered, lying on the floor next to his archer companion. They had a unique smell to them...some had the potent smell of magic upon them, like the one with beady looking eyes. Others, like the girl nearby, had more of a earthy smell to her that made her stand out from most normal smelling humans. Either way, this was certainly an interesting group of people his hunstman companion had thrown in with...usually, these were the types of people that they'd chase back home...but this was not home, and his friend wasn't shooting them just yet...know this, the canine simple rested his head on the ground in anticipation...

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

The witch beckoned at Runa. "Your task awaits you, come, come closer."

 

[Harrier]

ELSEWHERE and ELSEWHEN


The jade pen kept scribbling as Harrier talked to herself. She'd slung a hammock between two trees whose branches offered poor shelter but a great view of the stars.

The first undead pigeon flopped into Harrier's camp. A cob of corn, unhusked and richly tasseled, tumbled under the hammock.

The other two pigeons were still out there, and would be for some time: ripping hair off a blonde dryad was a tall order.

Mentally, Harrier sorted through the other possibilities she'd dreamed up based on the multiple meanings of 'golden,' 'locks,' 'earthen,' and 'goddess.' Precious few were worth sending a bird.

 

[Runa]

As beckoned, she stepped forward not afraid and already familiar with magic, she held out her arm awaiting the bite of the blade on her skin. Her eyes showed no fear as there was a reason for this quest and hopefully this would be rewarding in the end.

Runa took a deep breath and taking everything in and to make sure every detailed is remembered for later use, after all she was extremely talented in magic.

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

The witch dipped the gnarly athame onto the blood chalice, the wine red blood clung to the top of the darkened blade of cold iron.
The assistant appeared slightly queasy, her skin slightly paler.

»The earthern mother holds your oath for me. And the earthern mother holds my oath for you.« The tip of her blade caressed the palm of the Nordenfiir, puncturing the flesh. The wound shifted into a circle in an oval.
»What is required of you; Bring forth the water touched by moon hide. In seven days we shall meet again. May your quest be fruitful.«

The witch dismissed the last of the women, her eyes shifting across the cromlech. Her vision, usually good in the dark, was blinded by the candlelight. The glint of a dog's eyes let out the last few of the people assembled.
»There is... more to bring. Come, come forth.«


---
Calibar the Colorful

 

[Harrier]

ELSEWHERE and ELSEWHEN


Neither the goldsmith nor the stonecarver questioned Harrier's order. This far from a major city, their trades weren't in especially prodigious demand.

The stone effigy took a millennia-old form: a heavy, motherly woman, a goddess of personal and agricultural fertility. Gold bands with tiny locks circled her limbs and neck. She had a golden cap as well, styled as tightly curled hair. She weighed about five pounds.

Between her, the ear of corn, a scrap of blonde dryad scalp, and a tiny chunk of gilded stone from a statue's head, Harrier considered her bases covered. The week's end was fast approaching. More witchery, presumably, was in her immediate future.

 

[Erwin Geschwind]

"I think we're comfort over here..." Erwin called out, not moving an inch forward. Something was off about her and somthing was off about the people all around him. Between the moon touched water and bloody undead pigeons, it might have been smart to keep some distance between him and the others..least for now. "...we can hear you, so, er, go ahead."

 

[Ace]

Ace had his attention on the witch for the while, she seemd very...odd, compare to most people they've meet. Although at some point through her little speech, Ace's attention had been turned.

He was a bit busy looking up at the undead pigeons. He wondered what they tasted like? Probably not too good; they had too much of a thick, musky, magical smell. Plus, they didn't seem to have that much meat on them, which means they couldn't really compensate for much. Not that he couldn't swallow one if he had too...it just wouldn't taste all that good...

When Erwin spoke, that's when Ace looked back over, first to him, then at the magical heavy female he was talking to...

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

»Come forth endling,« Susanna spoke, her tone stricter this time around.
The assistant fixated her gaze upon the two, one eye lightly twitching. She appeared...off.

The witch lowered her gaze, her voice caloming. The wicked blade stirred in the chalice.
»Bind yourself to the pact like those before you, - or you shall not return home. «

 

[Erwin Geschwind]

Erwin glanced at Ace, showing a little bit of teeth to his companion, the "be-ready-to-take-chunk-out-of-her" signal. Unlike Erwin, Ace was more attune to magic then he was. Better to resist it, if anything to funny were to happen to either of them.

Stepping forward, Erwin moved forward, bow in hand...outstretching an arm...his eyes were watching...his hands ready to move quicker....

 

[Ace]

Ace watched as Erwin watched as he gave the signal, standing up suddenly at the ready. At times like these, getting dicey wasn't exactly Erwin's strong suit, at least not without Ace. Luckily for him, he had a canine watching his back. Following closely behind his companion, Ace watched the witch closely...ready to pounce if she tried anything...

 

[Asuego 'Susanna']

Rising the blade and touching the man's skin with it, she dragged it across. »Remember, the earthern mother binds you to hold your part to me, and so it holds my oath to you. In one week's time when the moon is full...« The cut spread like a fractal upon the palm. »The crown...of the woodland king. «