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View character profile for: Theo Lebins
View character profile for: Caligari Calarook
View character profile for: Olin
OOC: Since portions of my recent post now feel premature (and thankfully went unnoticed by LH), I have clipped them and moved them to this one for story cohesion and because I’m too lazy to think of more rhymes. I’m also assuming the killing/death of Heimdall took some stretch of time. Because I’m long winded.
Caligari was on her feet having jumped to them as soon as her claim to the throne was challenged. For someone who moments ago was unsure she even wanted the burden, she now felt cheated that Fenrir would even dispute her authority.
She hadn’t been able to save Heimdall or intervene at all. Things were falling apart quickly. As she looked around at the wolves pressing in among them, Cali stepped in front of the Winter Wolf to block his way.
"No Garm! You cannot defeat this one and we are not meant to. All of you; Listen! We accomplished what we sought to do. It required a uniquely special weapon and a God inclined to our purpose. For him, we have neither.” She pointed at Fenrir. His claim to this realm will not hold, she told herself. If my claim to the throne is stronger than his or more compatible, I will be able to magic us away from this place. And if not, well at least when we die we won't have far to travel.
Cali began speaking in hushed voices to spirits the others could not clearly see. “I cannot set you free if I am dead. And this berserk God will enslave you as surely as did his sister.” Hel was a natural goddess with all the powers that entailed, but Caligari was just a witch, regardless of what she may be destined to become. She wasn’t that yet. She was beseeching those spirits to lend their power and many of them weren’t convinced Caligari would ever ascend the throne. Garm was pouncing around chomping at wisps of black and green esoteric energy until Cali snapped her fingers and he took his place by her side, glaring at Kespin.
“Yes, yes, I will perform Queenly duties for you all. In time. Now do we have a deal or no?” Cali looked left and right at those arguing spirits then nodded her head. “It is settled. Kespin, I’m afraid between Garm and these Sovereign shades, my bedchamber will be occupied for some time. Perhaps you would enjoy sharing some of my erotic affections with the wolf?”
But by this time the spirits had done their part and gathered a thick curtain of inky magic, not unsimilar in appearance to Lily’s shadow companions. This one however was just a blob of shapeless coagulant suspended in the air. It would be up to Caligari to construct the spell with the supplied energy. And from somewhere within her mind she found the spell which was unlike any magic she’d performed. Spells weren’t her fortay, had never been. She practiced physical magic, the giving of and taking in of those fleshly components that fueled the rituals; blood, flesh & other fluids. Nevertheless the spell was in her head and it would do the trick - if it worked.
The Winter Witch beckoned to the party as she pulled strands of darkness from that floating blob, flinging it into each of their faces like a fine mist as she whispered dark words. All the while she tried to envision the stone beds of the Mirrored Sepulcher with their spellbound bodies, but she kept getting images of a low beamed roof and oppressive heat. Well there was nothing for it, if they stayed here any longer it would be an eternity. With each breath the party members took the black mist was flowing in an out of their mouths like smoke on a rolling tide. That mist swelled above them until it mirrored the inverted scene from the Sepulcher, only now it revealed a longhouse full of fur clad tribesman. Cali looked around at the others, but they were already growing listless and closing their eyes. She began to fill her lungs with the circulating mist, foul in color and aura. As she worked the spell and breathed in the corrupted air, her lungs felt on fire and crawling with disgusting things that fed on the bodies fed to the grave. When she could take it no longer she spewed out the murky miasma while reciting the puerile, albeit paramount spoken component.
“Bask in the warmth,
let it soak into your bones.
Congratulate our victory,
the great evil dethroned.
The Queen of Hel,
Goddess of Death,
Collector of Souls,
has drawn her last breath.
Gather unto one,
Convene unto me.
The tear between realms,
Rents in one, Two, THREE!”
And as her knees buckled and she was to collapse, she fell up along with the others who slumped into the sky.
The Warband in the longhouse grew more and more restless as the oddness and magic seemed to continue in a prolonged crescendo.
The elf girl’s shadow crept and twitched and the witch went from mud ball to queen of the damned in a heartbeat.
It was downright freaky and the only one not freaking out was Olin. It was all magic and whatever was going down in the realm of the dead was coming to its conclusion.
“Skratti!” The Leader boomed, clearly disturbed either by Olin’s inaction or blasé attitude to the ensuing crazy going on in and out of the longhouse.
“What?!” Olin responded, irritated, looking up from his work.
The Warband Leader motioned to the sleeping forms. Expecting Olin could do something to contain this insanity from possibly getting out of hand!
“There is nothing to be done until they wake. Don’t worry my children … they're just waking up not gearing for a -” The Warband Leader swung at Olin for his disrespect. Bits of stone and leather flew about and Olin was tossed from his seat to the ground. Olin glared up from the dirt floor wiping his nose. “There isn’t anything to be done.” Olin said again barely able to keep the anger and mocking tone out of his voice.
Gods he couldn’t wait for this to be over.
And with a violent convulsion each of the party members was thrown from their cots and onto the floor, save Erik who was already laid out upon the floor due to his size. To a one they began coughing and hacking up the fetid vapors which collected and congealed around Caligari’s throat until she were wearing a malevolent collar. She climbed to her feet and smoothed her unfussed hair, running her fingers quickly over the interdiction encircling her neck. It was freezing to the touch and vibrated painfully with the cruelty of undead kings who refused to let their Queen or collateral stray from their grasp. She pulled her fingers away as quickly as she could and stepped toward the Warband leader, for he was the largest and wearing the most adornment.
“Why have you disturbed my slumber?”
OOC: Joint Post between Esimed & Winters