[FOR MORE CONTEXT:
https://pastebin.com/Xr9ekYVH - how the poison was acquired (Xenthos POV)
https://pastebin.com/TbteLevB - Glomdoring recieves a vision (Illyria POV)]

[Various prepwork on the eve before the 9th, talking, snooping.]

Before the Master Ravenwood Tree.
The dark heart of Glomdoring Forest is almost audibly beating in this, its shadowy centre. Tall, blackened trees surround this clearing, pressing together into an imposing barrier of rotten vegetation. Moulds and fungi are smeared across the plants, their pungent stench suffusing the forest. The branches are coated in dark slime, slick tendrils that hang downwards. Although a variety of trees might actually grow here, the black tar that coats them renders them indistinguishable. A thin black mist creeps between the trees, hanging low across the ground. The floor of the clearing itself is simply bare earth, cracked and dry. Overshadowing all is the Master Ravenwood Tree itself, jutting into the sky like a twisted fist. The sound of laughing crows echoes down from the treetops, a harsh sound for the ears below. The atmosphere vibrates with a palpable power. Lovely coltsfoot carpets the forest floor. A marjoram bush flourishes here, spreading its delicate scent. Sprays of chervil cover the forest floor. A sedge of galingale is firmly planted in the forest floor. Brennan Stormcrow paces here, his cadaverous body twitching with sudden jerks. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a bat around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a spider around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a beetle around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a wasp around its skull. The Master Ravenwood Tree towers over everything here, pulsing with an immeasurable yet dark power. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. There are 2 armoured bats here. In the shape of an open palm, a metallic sigil lies here. Covered in bone armour, a green eyelash viper is slithering about here. A crudely crafted shrine of harsh black crystal stands here, thrumming powerfully. Splintered from the Master Ravenwood, a massive branch lies here, spiders crawling along its rotting wood. A giant bat hangs here, wings folded about its body and one beady eye open. There are 10 shadowlord widowriders here. There are 10 illithoid scourges here. There are 10 dark nighthags here. A mature rowan tree stands proudly here. There are 2 curious young kittens here. There are 2 dusky brocade moths here. Nothing more than a puffball with cerulean eyes, a seal lynx point ragdoll kitten lies here lounging languidly. A caliginous leopard is languidly grooming herself here, her tail idly flicking back and forth. Umbral Evoker Gael, Proselyte of the Awakening is here. He wields a grotesque mandolin in his left hand. Drenched in blood, a midnight-eyed savage lingers here appraising her surroundings. Reader Illyria, Listener of the Silent Knell is here, shrouded. She wields an athame dagger in her left hand. The shadowy form of a Daughter of the Night stands here, exuding wyrden power from within swirling black robes.
You see a single exit leading north.

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Ahh... Hello, Glomdoring."

The pointed tips of your ears twitch to hear an errant sound.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Hail, my Lord."

Tau bounces up and down.

(Glomdoring): Evette says, "Tidings, my Lord."

(Glomdoring): Illyria says, "Lord Silent, hail."

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "Hello, Lord!"

(Glomdoring): Gael says, "Good evening, Lord Nocht."

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "The Wilders gather in their foothills, perhaps bidden by their own summons."

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "I see... Then it seems we have an interesting day ahead of us, indeed, My little ones."

A small, sweet smile flits across Illyria's face.

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Do you all feel you are prepared for what is to come?"

(Glomdoring): Gael says, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

Adjusting her shroud to drape more steadily over her shoulders, Illyria straightens, stepping toward the entrance of the glen and then stopping to look back.

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "Yes."

(Glomdoring): Evette says, "Always."

(Glomdoring): Illyria says, "We will not fail You or the Glomdoring, Lord Silent."

(Glomdoring): You say, "I do, my Lord."

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "It appears the Wilde ones outnumber you greatly, but worry not, little ones. It is not numbers alone that can win this day. Make use of your magicks and rituals. We need only undermine Maylea's plots. Just as you communed with the Wyrd to hear its warning, you can channel power to stop Her foolishness."

A small, fierce smile spreads over Illyria's face at the words. "I... need to gather a couple of things."

[Illyria and Gael go to get things]

You have emoted: Esei tilts their head, tapping their cheek thoughtfully.

You hum thoughtfully.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Can we wyrd the foothills?"

Emotionlessly, Scourge Evette Stormcrow, the Heartless says, "If there are no saplings of their own there, I suspect so."

You whisper, "We should be able to, yes."

[Checking WHO -> Maylea - Maylea, Bloom of Serenity]

The pointed tips of your ears twitch to hear an errant sound.

You whisper, "Ah... there She is."

Nocht, the Silent has bestowed His divine truefavour upon the Free Forest of Glomdoring. It will last for 7 months.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Shall we go?"

Evette nods her head emphatically.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "I can't wyrd, or meld. Without some effort."

You furrow your brow in thought.

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "I am with you, My Glomdoring."

[me classflexing to Druid, everyone going]

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Do not approach the Goddess until She has begun."

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Once Her work begins, She will be unable to touch you."

Sudden rise.
A strong breeze whistles over the ground. The calm, low lying hills around here are nothing compared to this drastic rise in altitude. An almost vertical surface rises suddenly out of the ground, small bits of soil and roots sticking haphazardly out of the earth face. A pleasing fragrance wafts up from the tea bush here. Pennyroyal vines twinkle with tiny mauve flowers. Nothing more than a puffball with cerulean eyes, a seal lynx point ragdoll kitten lies here lounging languidly. A caliginous leopard is languidly grooming herself here, her tail idly flicking back and forth. Umbral Evoker Gael, Proselyte of the Awakening is here. He wields a grotesque mandolin in his left hand. Drenched in blood, a midnight-eyed savage lingers here appraising her surroundings. Reader Illyria, Listener of the Silent Knell is here. She wields an athame dagger in her left hand and a glittering black rose in her right hand. The shadowy form of a Daughter of the Night stands here, exuding wyrden power from within swirling black robes.
You see exits leading southwest and up.

[Galaphyrae comes down, a bunch of back and forth over keeping the room skunked, before Evette lights her censer.]

Her athame in one hand, Illyria kneels and sets down the corpse of a bulbous spider. Neatly, she bisects its abdomen and withdraws its inners, pulling handfuls of slimy viscera, ignoring the happenings around her. Carefully, she anoints both wrists in the substance, then her forehead, and the top of each foot, humming softly.

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "She has announced our presence to the others."

You think to yourself: Tsk, tsk...

With a faint smile, Umbral Evoker Gael, Proselyte of the Awakening asks Galaphyrae, "Good morning. Is there something amiss?"

Fair Galaphyrae asks, "Is there?"

Looking about the rise slowly, Umbral Evoker Gael, Proselyte of the Awakening says to Galaphyrae, "No, I don't believe there is..."

[Some others pass through.]

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Oh, more.. No, I guess not. I wanted more acquaintances."

Tau creases her brow in a frown.

Lighting a bundle of sage and wyrden flora, Illyria drifts over to Gael and lifts her thumb to swipe a line of viscera across his forehead, carefully blocking out the surroundings as she works. Using the crow's feathers, she wafts smoke over him, head to toe. "The Wyrd lives within you. The Wyrd is upon you," she murmurs. "We will prevail." Turning, she moves on to Evette.

A bright, blazing light rises from the northern hills beyond Serenwilde, illuminating the form of Maylea, Bloom of Serenity, who holds a small orb above Her head, power radiating from Her body.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says to Illyria, "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa."

Gael straightens rapidly as he is annointed, muttering a low "We will prevail", before turning to look back at Galaphyrae and smiling silently.

The soft voice of Xiran tickles your ear, "Auspice, you walk close to the Wilde. Do you intend to join outright in open daylight, or return with the shadows?"

Repeating the smearing of spider viscera upon Evette's forehead, her face serene as shadows dance around her, Illyria whispers, "The Wyrd is in your blood, the Wyrd is on your skin." Smoke is wafted, and then it is Tau's turn, and your.

You tell Xiran Stormcrow, Scribe of the Woodbine, " a shiver through the dark of the aether, cool acknowledgement. ."

Tau frowns at herself.

(Evette's Squad): You say, "Now is the time, if there is any."

(Evette's Squad): Gael says, "Aye, She has begun something."

(Evette's Squad): Evette says, "I would agree."

Standing still anews, Reader Illyria, Listener of the Silent Knell says, "The Wyrd is us, and we are its creatures. We will prevail."

Illyria nods her head emphatically.

You whisper, "Nothing matters but the Glomdoring."

In a hushed, melodic murmur, Reader Illyria, Listener of the Silent Knell says, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

Tonelessly, Umbral Evoker Gael, Proselyte of the Awakening says, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

Emotionlessly, Scourge Evette Stormcrow, the Heartless whispers, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

You raise your arms and hum deeply the note of the forest. Silhouettes of twisted trees darken in the air, their long shadows casting a forbidding doom across the ground.

Galaphyrae carefully lights a pale Censer of the Majestic Hart, sending its intoxicating incense swirling through the air as it sways from side to side. The pungent scent tickles your senses, filling you with a longing for the beauty of the natural forests.
Galaphyrae raises her arms and hums deeply the note of the forest. Around you, the wyrd seeps out of the trees and plant life, which start to look greener and healthier than before.

You glance askance.

Illyria flicks the remaining spider innards at Galaphyrae, not even bothering to glance her way.

[movement]

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "They are Northeast. I am unclear if She is preparing or not."

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "She's standing there. Menacingly."

(Glomdoring): Gael says, "She started raising an orb above her head, She is doing -something-."

(Glomdoring): You say, "Aye, She does wield the Eye."

Continuing the hunt for his dark mate, Father Sun presses forward in his journey, lowering himself in the sky yet still casting even, full light upon the land.

(Evette's Squad): Tau says, "Do we just bust on in? Seems rude?"

(Evette's Squad): Evette says, "They would do the same to us."

Your dark eyes flash as you smile sharply.

(Evette's Squad): Illyria says, "Why, we were invited."

Lips curling up at the corners, Evette's mouth twists into a decidedly feral grin.

(Evette's Squad): Tau says, "If this goes poorly, I blame Ilistala."

A caliginous leopard's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

You follow Scourge Evette Stormcrow, the Heartless northeast to rolling foothills.

Xiran briefly squeezes Silvanos's hand, and nodes to her protege, inviting Adrenthorne to place his hands atop their joined ones to merge into the coven circle without breaking it.

Rolling foothills.
A Gold Censer of Honey Smells floats in the air here, suffusing the surroundings with the enticing aroma of mystical ingredients. A strong breeze whistles over the ground. The trees here are no less thick then the nearby forest, with roots and branches sticking out of the ground haphazardly. The usual sounds of wildlife are present. The trees around here are of various nature, although predominantly elm. Shafts of light beam down onto rotting leaves and logs. Up ahead, the forest ends and the foothills begin. A pleasing fragrance wafts up from the tea bush here. Pennyroyal vines twinkle with tiny mauve flowers. An elegant peahen of pearly hue stands poised, possessing a pair of long, brilliant wings bright with dazzling colour. With arms crossed over his pot belly, a leprechaun stands brashly here. A brownie leaps about from foot to foot here, giggling inanely. A beautiful sylph hovers here on gossamer wings. Trying unsuccessfully to blend into the background, a pigwidgeon scuffles about on the ground. A beautiful sprite flitters here with a brilliant halo of white light illuminating her presence. A pixie hovers in the air, fluttering about on tiny wings. Smiling to herself, a wood nymph stands here. Floating eerily in the air is the quivering form of a banshee. Almost invisible, a pooka is curled up on the ground here. A willowisp bobs about in the air here. Pleasantly plump, the mother lounges here smiling. The wrinkled figure of the crone stands imperiously here. A powerful aroma emanating from within, a Censer of Wonder rests here. There are 8 fylgias here. Bony and slender, Lanni Ahonen stands perched on the balls of his feet. Looking about with curious eyes, Tore Niskanen stands firm here. Albany, a regal stag beetle stands here, his shell shimmering with green and silver light. A ceremonial cup of the seasons shimmers faintly here. Nothing more than a puffball with cerulean eyes, a seal lynx point ragdoll kitten lies here lounging languidly. A caliginous leopard is languidly grooming herself here, her tail idly flicking back and forth. Draped in a cascade of berries and leaves, a vibrant youth rests here with an expression of bright hope. Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf with a Wakabi face is here. She wields a luminescent bull-horned shofa in each hand. Eyes gleaming with daring, a Horizon Walker stands here armed and ready to face the vast unknown. Qistrel Strongleaf stands here, her features lit by a surrounding swarm of lightning bugs. She wields the Cudgel of the Seven Beetles in her left hand. Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch is here. Scarbearer Adrenthorne is here. He wields a shortsword dusted with argent starlight in each hand. Drenched in blood, a midnight-eyed savage lingers here appraising her surroundings. Gazing at nothing at all, a daydreaming philosopher paces here, focused on some inner puzzle. Nialla Myeras, Midsummer Herald with a Crone face stands surrounded by a wild fragrance, flickering images of wildflowers shimmering about her body. She wields an athame dagger in her left hand. The shadowy form of a Daughter of the Night stands here, exuding wyrden power from within swirling black robes. Reader Illyria, Listener of the Silent Knell is here. She wields an athame dagger in her left hand and a black crow's feather in her right hand. Xiran Stormcrow, Scribe of the Woodbine is here. Maylea, Bloom of Serenity stands here, prismatic light swirling around Her. She wields the Eye of Dynara in Her left hand. Couturier Silvanos Lunarose, Nymphean Dreamer with a Regal face stands here, a sheen of moonlit energy radiating from them. They wield a kite shield in their left hand and an athame dagger in their right hand.
You see exits leading southwest and up.

(Glomdoring): Tau says, "We are playing a game. Who breaks the silence first."

A faint shimmer passes over the lands, briefly warping the myriad blues into ominous shades of purple as the shrouded form of Nocht, the Silent begins to materialize from the aether, His whispering voice echoing out before He has even fully manifested. "My dearest Maylea... Certainly You did not think I would stand by and do nothing while You attempted this foolishness. Whatever is to come, remember that is You who caused it to be."

Adrenthorne cautiously takes Xiran's hand, joining the circle.

Tau inclines her head politely to Sondayga.

Tyrus retrieves a small gourd of brown tint and dips his fingers into it. He applies a line of brown tint to his forehead to form a tree, then finishes with green tint to form the leaves.

With a trilling chirp, Couturier Silvanos Lunarose, Nymphean Dreamer says to Tau, "Did you find your scholars?"

You have emoted: Esei clasps their hands behind their back, exhaling softly.

Lanni Ahonen looks about himself suspiciously.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "The ones I needed, yes, thank you."

Tore Niskanen continues to look up at Maylea in wonder, ignoring the new arrivals.

With a trilling chirp, Couturier Silvanos Lunarose, Nymphean Dreamer says, "Everyone deserves good books."

Wreathed in shadows, Illyria drifts in, her face serene despite the green slime and red viscera that coats her arms to the elbow. Politely, the ghost of a smile on her face, she curtseys to Maylea and the assembled.

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch exclaims, "Serenwilde! We hear the Host! We ready ourselves for the Hunt! We read the words of prophecy! We stand with the Bloom of Serenity under the gaze of Moon and Hart!"

Doe-Eyed Amirae, Supreme Booper says, "I didn't realise this was going to be a party, I should've brought snacks."

Acknowledging Amirae's point to be true, Silvanos nods their head gravely at her.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says to Gael, "You can begin, if you like."

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch exclaims, "May She draw from us the strength She needs. In communion for forest and fae, kin and Kaelye. For Shelter in this verdant land!"

Aubrey murmurs under her breath, "So mote it be."

Xiran slips into a thin emerald band.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity does not take Her attention off of the Eye and the ritual. Below Her a small plant sprouts into being, fluttering in the wind between the two Divine.

Silvanos sways back and forth.

Nialla takes up the cup at the centre of the circle, raising it towards Maylea before sipping from it.

In a melodic, sing-songy voice, Nialla Myeras, Midsummer Herald says, "Mother Moon, grant us your light!"

You reach to your sense of the many wyrden songs and begin to softly hum a low, dark tune. Your heart beats in tune with the Wyrd's melodies, soothing your spirit and calming your mind.

Lifting her hand to gash it upon a sharpened antler tine, Illyria studies the scene, taking in each detail. Retrieving a jumble of spore grass from her pouch, ) begins to plait it into a length of braid with swift, skilled hands, the mingled blood of wyrden creature and her own seeping into the makeshift rope.

Qistrel Strongleaf says, "White Hart, grant us your resolve!"

The Silent Lord gestures upwards with a sharp motion and the ground ruptures and splits before Him, seeking tendrils of shadow rushing upwards to ensnare the floating Goddess. The radiant shield surrounding Her flares in prismatic hues, dozens of the seeking shadows immediately burned away in the light. Even more rise up, and at least several latch on to the golden shield. Nocht begins to whisper a soft incantation in a eldritch tongue that you cannot understand, but the effects are immediate - the shadow vines grow taut, and the ground trembles from the strain as they try to drag the Bloom of Serenity back to the ground.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

Holding His arms out, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Lend Me your strength, My Glomdoring. Summon My Night and Mighty Crow and the Wyrd itself to aid Me in ending this foolishness."

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a soft emerald-turquoise.

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch says, "Blessed be the Bloom of Serenity! Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Aubrey tightens her grip on the hands of those beside her, keeping the coven circle strong, her gaze intent on Maylea.

Taking up the chant, Xiran Stormcrow, Scribe of the Woodbine says, "Moon and Hart, grant us your strength! Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

In a melodic, sing-songy voice, Nialla Myeras, Midsummer Herald exclaims, "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Little Bear Aubrey says, "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Shadows grow longer in anticipation for the return of their dark mistress as Father Sun's chase brings him closer to the world's edge.

Tau begins a loud, and mournful tune on her violin with her bow. The only words seem to be, "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa."

Adrenthorne grips Xiran's hand a bit tighter as the shadows writhe. He whispers, "Serenas'im Alemnacree."

Silvanos hums a happy tune.

Amirae squeezes Nialla's hand as she exclaims, "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Silvanos attempts to speak but stumbles over the words.

In the wake of the seeking shadow vines, Illyria steps nearer on silent feet, her eyes intent and serene as she follows their path, braiding all the while. Softly, words begin to spill from her lips. "Inevitable, ineffable, the Wyrd will guide and strength us. Ole-noc Caiheldor b'fa, the shadows hold and call us." Drawn inexorably, she approaches the besieged shield.

Lanni Ahonen reaches forward and lightly probes a tiny swaying sprout with his hand.

Xiran squeezes Silvanos's hand reassuringly, even as the shadows encroach.

Silvanos leans on Xiran seeking consolation.

A tenebrous leopard settles her violet swirling eyes on Xiran, staring intently.

Nialla bows her had, her grip tightening on the hands in hers as she leads the Coven in a dance to summon the light of Mother Moon, reaching out to her and calling for her argent glow to bathe the hills.

Gazing to the heavens with arms spread wide, Silvanos sings a soft song of the Moon and turns into their own slow dance, following the bewitching melody of moonlight.

Xiran spares a tenebrous leopard but a glance, eyes wild and dark.

"No! Nocht, you will not drag Me down!" Maylea, Bloom of Serenity continues to hold forth the Eye, power streaming in strands from the artifact throughout the hills.

Gazing to the heavens with arms spread wide, Xiran sings a soft song of the Moon and turns into her own slow dance, following the bewitching melody of moonlight.

Tau's music abruptly stops, her face intense with concentration. Holding Nek'sha-cree, the Grim Claws firmly, she spills her blood and essence in the foothills with a firm slice. Chanting all the time, she turns a circle around her person. "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa."

Aubrey weaves one foot before the other in an ancient pattern as the coven circle dances protectively about Maylea.

Silvanos sways back and forth.

You have emoted: Taking one step forward, Esei clasps their hands together as if in prayer, tilting their face up to gaze at the darkening sky. "Mother Night," they say softly, voice calm. "We of the Wyrd seek Your strength, Your might, Your shadows to help Your Father - guide us, as You always have."

Her eyes fixed firmly on the sprouting plant, the bloody length of braided spore grass continues to grow in Illyria's hands, to be coiled around her arm like a whip. "Swallowing silence, faith and fortitude, into the depths will all things go," she whispers, stepping over a shadowy vine. "Transformed by the Wyrd, twisting, lovely, in its purity will all things grow." The last of the corpse of spore grass disappears into the makeshift rope, slick with blood, and she pauses before the shield, hesitating as she studies the scene.

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a soft emerald-turquoise.

The sprout quivers as the power of the Wyrd increases.

Silvanos purses their lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as they carefully gather their thoughts.

Xiran leans down and carefully sprinkles water from a burnished brass watering can over the plants here.

Galaphyrae's skin flushes silver as argent spheres spin around her in a graceful orbit, mimicking the phases of the moon.

Lanni Ahonen probes a tiny swaying sprout again and frowns. "More purple?"

The Silent Lord offers no reply to the Goddess floating above as He continues His soft chant, more tendrils of shadow sprouting up from the ground in an attempt to pull Her down.

Xiran swiftly passes Adrenthorne's hand to Calfuray as the coven dance continues.

Aubrey shifts her attention to the sprout, murmuring under her breath the spell of nature growth to encourage its tenuous grip on life.

Silvanos sways back and forth.

Xiran regards Illyria with narrowed eyes.

Eyes almost glassy as they turn their gaze southward, you whisper, "Brother Crow, we of Your Murder call for You. Lend us Your cunning, Your Blood Thirst. May Your talons always strike well, and true."

Evette beckons several shadows out of a shadow cauldron, emptying it into the night air towards the gathered.

Silvanos thinks encouraging thoughts towards the plants here, urging them to be good and strong in their cycle.

Galaphyrae glows a bright silver as she dances and offers her strength to the ritual.

Exhaling, a hint of a smile touches Illyria's lips, and she sets one end of the blooded braid down, beginning to pace a circle around the outside of the shield, laying the grass rope in her wake. "Grow, my sapling, fierce and strong," she whispers, her blood seeping and splattering in her wake from gored wrist as she goes. "Break your boundaries, heed our song." She glances over at Gael, her eyes flicking down to his belt and the drum there.

Xiran hefts an athame dagger at the bloody rope in Illyria's hands, silvery blade singing towards its target.

With the crescent moon striking his crest-feathers, Adrenthorne follows Calfuray's lead, his feet proceeding one before another with ritual precision around the sprout and the Goddess, channeling the power of Mother Moon in his movements.

You feel the faintest trace of Mighty Crow - perhaps if you called out again you may be able to summon his power.

OOC NOTE: Your presence and roleplay efforts will affect the balance of powers here. PROBE SPROUT for an indication.

Thick near the bottom and narrowing to a tender tip at the top, the sprout appears to have recently sprung wholesale out of the hilly soil here. A pair of tender leaves grow from the slender stem, each curved around the edges into shallow cups that hold a small amount of rainwater. The air around the sprout is cool and breezy, and inexplicable flickers and motes of light occasionally dot its surroundings.
An aura of emerald-turquoise dominates the other hue of dark violet upon the plant.
{@@@@@@ @@@@} <- left is green/seren, right is purple/wyrd!

Silvanos pats a tiny swaying sprout in a friendly manner.

Qistrel raises her cudgel. "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Galaphyrae urges a leprechaun to follow along behind Illyria and unsettle the dropped rope.

With a disdainful flick of her athame, Illyria deflects the oncoming dagger, continuing sedately onward.

Evette bows her head and closes her eyes, radiating a brilliant healing aura.

Silvanos sings a song of growth and strength and rebirth at the sprout.

Little Bear Aubrey exclaims, "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Calfuray's body visibly relaxes, then suddenly she emits a deafening roar and her body sinks into a powerful battle stance.

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a soft emerald-turquoise.

Peering about the foothills to get his bearings, Gael fixes his attention to the small plant rising at the feet of Maylea. In the distance, as the sounds of the Drums of the Dead sounds out, he lifts a viscera smeared arm and calls out, "Mother Night and Brother Crow, Great Spirits of the Wyrd! Aide us in our hour of need! Bless the sprout with your growth! Bless the sapling with your wisdom! Bless the earth with your inescapable Truth!"

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch exclaims, "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Xiran ceases to wield an athame dagger in her right hand.

Amirae's grip on Nialla's hand tightens as she daren't break the circle. "Serenas'im Alemnacree."

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf exclaims, "Serenas'im Alemnacree!"

Silvanos continues their dance around the sprout, trying to ignore what is occuring while they encourage the plant to do it's own things.

Shadows coalesce around Evette's form, who bows her head in reverence.

Raising their arms towards the south, voice firming, you exclaim, "Brother Crow, Your Murder calls to You; may Your caw strike terror into the hearts of the weak Serens. Help us, Brother Crow!"

Sondayga lifts his voice in a gentle susurrus, recounting the memories of lives past, each as fleeting and vital as a breath. Vines spun from argent radiance spring from his chest and twine across his form, their filaments brimming with new life: ebon and ivory flowers that birth a hale fragrance in the air as they fade away.

Xiran flashes Adrenthorne a grim smile as she twists back into the coven circle.

Tau flutters her wings and hovers among the gathered. Her blood and essence free-flows, continuing the chant, calling upon a power as ancient as time. "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa." Her murmur is slight, and yet her voice seems to echo in the drops of essence she casts off in her effort. She nods at Evette. "Call a penumbra."

[penumbra spam]

Nialla turns her eyes to the sky above, fixed upon her Goddess, and breaths deeply. "The purity of the forest shall ever overcome that which tries to taint its beauty," she calls out. "The Moonhart Mother touches this land, and through her we touch the power of the land itself! We call upon the Host, the ancient generations that stand beyond the Veil! We call upon the Mother, the Maide, and the Crone, the ever cyclical phases of Mother Moon! We call upon the strength of Hart, protector of the forest!"

Galaphyrae gestures sharply and summons a river of silver fire that blazes toward a tiny swaying sprout. When it strikes, the air itself trembles and a powerful, ancient presence manifests within the cold, ethereal light.

Silvanos sings as best they can, memories of Shulamit's own songs as they grew here and songs of all the places they have been.

Xiran's eyes reflect azure as she looks to Galaphyrae in awe.

Closing her eyes, Tau holds out her outstretched hand and slowly begins to close her fingers into a fist. You watch in amazement as a sparkling, emerald green column forms within her grip, then solidifies into a mystic cudgel.

Evette remains at the side of the Night Coven, her hands linked with the members.

From each Seren standing upon these hills, motes of colours continue to arise in hues of every description, shades that have never been seen and will not be seen again, and yet, each colour seems appropriate for the being from which the colour is drawn. <- This line is all rainbows

Emboldened by his kindred, Adrenthorne murmurs softly, adding his voice to Sondayga's in remembrance of innumerable springs and summers past.

Nialla raises her hands over her head, and a shaft of moonlight falls upon her, soaking into her skin, which glows with a silvery light.

The colours rise to swirl about Maylea, Bloom of Serenity as She clutches the Eye of Dynara above Her head, the artifact appearing to draw power from the Goddess Herself and then spread them out towards the hills in threads and strands of blue.

Silvanos sings, calling for their hamaydryads to sing with them.

The night sky grows a little darker and the faint cawing of crows begins to fill the air as the powers of the Wyrd attempt to creep into the foothills to answer the rituals that call out to them.

Aubrey closes her eyes and takes on a look of intense concentration, murmuring ancient prayers of the Mooncoven, holding tightly to the hands of those linked with her.

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees joins with Silvanos in the song and dance they are doing around the sprout and gathered.

Completing the circle, Illyria does not stop, but continues around once more, retrieving the bundle of smoldering wyrden flora and sage from her belt as she walks. Waving the smoke over the shield with the fan of crow feathers, she continues chanting quietly. "Dark Spirits, find weakness and flaw, probe our enemies, encompass all." Her other hand lifts to gash itself upon a tine, and the blood splatters the soil anew.

You see Fair Galaphyrae yell, "Mother Moon! Lend us your light! Grant us your power!"

Aigeiros of the Black Poplar sways sightly as she grabs the hands of their siblings and SIlvanos, singing of life and loss.

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a soft emerald-turquoise.

"Brother Bull, aide us in this struggle! " Calfuray calls out to the world at large, loud shrieks feeling the air as she slides each Shofa against the other.

Sondayga takes stance beside Galaphyrae, placing one hand on a storm glass amulet and the other on her shoulder.

Synl silently enters from the southwest, manifesting directly from his surroundings.

You say, "Glorious Crow! Mighty Crow! Heed our call to You, as Your Murder, as wyrdenkin!"

Galaphyrae bids a sylph to fan gentle winds at the smoke Illyria releases to disperse it away from its target.

Tau calls a mystic cudgel to her side, full embracing the power of the forest as a Blacktalon. Waving the cudgel about, it's gnarled bark further soaked in blood, she focuses intently on calling up the wyrden foliage. "Come blackthorn tree, and I shall tell you only the best bedtime stories until my voice is hoarse." She insists. "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa!"

Ampelos of the grapevines sings forth, humming a song once heard of Euterpe and Shulamit, as they dance together, in future hopes of their siblings coming forward.

Qistrel's antlers glow golden, streams of druidic power rising towards the hovering Maylea, the prancing shapes of deer emerging from the streams before merging back in.

Nialla raises her voice higher, yelling above the raucous call of crows. "We summon forth the spirits that dwell within our home! We summon forth the strength that lies within the roots of the eldest tree and the bough of the youngest sapling! We summon the cleansing purity of morning dew!"

You see Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf yell, "Basala'oren Seren!"

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a mixture of soft emerald-turquoise and dark midnight violet.

Tyrus stands stalwart and unabashed, gripping his sword and giving his body as ward to the sprout and all those of Serenwilde. "Stand strong my people! Mother Moon and the White Hart will not fail us! Dance and call down Moon's blessing ye moondancers! The coven is our strongest power yet!"

Silvanos sings loudly and off-key with their hamadryads being far more on key, but singing cheerfully non-the-less as they sing their memories forth as best as they remember.

Lanni Ahonen crouches upon the ground, palms spread wide to feel the power coursing into the land. His eyes glitter green, inscrutible, as Tore stands beside him with arms folded, gazing in wonder.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

Silvanos hums a happy tune.

At the invocation of the blackthorn, the tendrils of shadow twist and seem to grow their own thorns, a multitude of blackthorn blossoms suddenly growing along the shadowy vines as they struggle to rip Maylea down from the skies above.

Evette tightens her grip on a black stone athame, shadows swirling at it's edge. "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa" she whispers, eyes intently speculating the area.

You curl your lips up into a feral grin.

Silvanos Dances about, joyfully singing of Kailak and Ysun and they many things they have done and seen in their life.

Calfuray turns toward a tiny swaying sprout and intones a low-pitched mantra, her eyes aglow with true delight.

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch says, "Call upon the Ancestors! Call upon the Great Spirits! Sing your songs to strenthen us and Lady Maylea!"

You say, "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa."

Calfuray makes a fist with one hand and covers it with the other, bringing the gesture to her chest. With a slow breath, she bows deeply before a tiny swaying sprout. Five mysterious spirits appear in midair, surrounding them both and also bowing in unison before dispersing as quickly as they came.

Gael pulls a small, taut-hide drum from his waist, eying the sprout as it sways between the light and dark, before settling himself into a low crouch, gripping the drum under an arm. Turning his eyes to look to Nocht above, his palm coming down on the drumhead in a series of slow, resounding booms, a bass-like beat slowly builds as it echoes across the foothills.

Silvanos takes a small pitcher of water and waters the sprout before passing it to their hamadryads who do the same in turn.

With her second circling complete, Illyria begins to hum softly, her feet hitting the ground more firmly as she begins to dance. Her hips sway sinuously as she makes her third round about the shield, and this time, with each small spin, she pulls a petal from a glittering black rose and tosses it lightly at the prismatic shield. "See the beauty, little seedling, see the glory of the Wyrd," she soothes it, urging and lulling as she twirls about the perimeter.

Xiran leans down and carefully sprinkles water from a burnished brass watering can over the plants here.

Nialla's words match the rhythm of her cloven hooves upon the ground, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the blossoms. "Come forth mighty oak, and spread your branches wide! Shelter the Folk of the Seren beneath your boughs and lend your strength to our Divine Bloom!"

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees hums with joy and uses the pitcher plant of water to feed the sprout here, before passing it to AIgeiros.

A shimmer of brightness passes across the land as Serenwilde calls upon the ancestral spirits. Something vibrant and fresh is here and it flows into the sprout.

Aigeiros of the Black Poplar nods to their sibling and continues to feed the plant, taking some of their own seeds and sap to add it in it's growth.

Xiran Stormcrow, Scribe of the Woodbine whispers to Arco, the Hound of Papaxi, "Good boy."

Aubrey opens her eyes, the gelid gaze hard and shining like the full moon, as she recalls the power of long-unused rage. She lifts her face to the night sky and summons all her strength, sending it vibrating through the coven and causing a flash of crimson in the constricting air.

"Great Host, Ancient ancestors of the forest!" Calfuray prays under her breath. "Nature calls for your aide once again. Show the glory of Serenwilde".

Adrenthorne draws his sword and raises it skyward, drawing a silver effulgence into its moonlit blade. Murmuring with the chants of his brethren, he lowers his blade and sweeps it towards the little seedling, sending motes of moonlight to surround it to swarm it protectively.

Illyria ceases to wield a black crow's feather in her right hand.

You have emoted: Esei places a hand over their heart, while their Fingerblade rests gently on their throat, at their pulse. "Shadowbeat," they softly. "Song of the Dark Heart, melody of our own hearts, I call to You. Lend us Your strength, guide us by Your Haunting Nocturne. Help us to show this little sprout the strength of the Wyrd."

Ampelos of the grapevines with a soft unspoken ease, they take the pitcher plant of water and waters the plant, singing songs of joy and loss and rebirth to it as they feed the plant and give the pitcher back to Silvanos.

Tau grips the cudgel so tightly in her hands, it runs red in rivulets down its coursing contours. The faeling grows pale with the effort spent, continuing in despite the intense Sacrifice she is intent on making. At the invocation of the lesser tree, she renews her call. "Mighty blackthorn. Cast down your petals, so that these hills may forever more be awash in your pink embrace, and drown out all other lesser plants."

(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "See the glory of the Wyrd, My little ones. Though you are fewer in number your magics begin to overpower theirs."

Xiran's colours drain as she sees Synl. A flick of her wings, and she is with her Commune once more.

Watching Illyria as she begins to dance, Gael adjusts the rhythm of the beat, just slightly, to match tempo of her steps, balancing the low bass tones with rapid staccato taps along the wooden sides of the drum, the scars along his skin pulsing with dark ripples in rhythm to the lower tones.

Silvanos Silvanos carefully feeds the pitcher plant of water from their own store, before watering the area around the sprout to ensure its roots grow good and strong.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity trembles in the air, bolstered on the one hand by the support of those from Serenwilde, while Nocht and Glomdoring's efforts pull at her ever and ever.

You have emoted: Esei silently moves their left hand to raise a lissom blooming blackthorn staff, as if heeding the call of their commune mates.

Silvanos continues to dance with their hamadryads, joyfully as they get a chance to sing and dance as they have long desired to do.

Nocht, the Silent pauses in His whispered chant as the foothills continue to change around Him. He turns His veiled gaze up towards the floating Goddess, His soft voice somehow perfectly clear above the commotion. "How long will You keep this up, Maylea?" Orbs of liquid power began to manifest around Him as He speaks. "No matter how much aid Your children give... eventually Your power will be spent."

Sensing Xiran's momentary shift, Aubrey glances to the fellow Moondancer and gives her a strengthening look of trust.

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a dark midnight violet.

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch says, "Lend the power of Nature's Gift to Strengthen our purpose! All the fylgia, bestow your energies upon the sprout, give of yourself to strengthen our resolve!"

Qistrel's eyes turn white as she ender a trance, ethereal blossoms forming in the air around her, as she calls up on the power of Bloom, heady fragrance wafting about her. The flowers turn into streams of light that flow upwards.

Silvanos sings forth of change and hunger and overcoming and rebirtth and the struggle to break oneself down to rebuild stronger.

With shining eyes as she splatters sanguine droplets upon the shield, coating those with glittering rose petals, Illyria continues dancing. "Nothing is more beautiful than Glomdoring's dark!" she sings out, her feet dancing to the rhythm of Gael's drum and the bone-deep Shadowbeat. "Voice of Malhalla, sing to this seedling!" she cries gleefully, shadows swirling around her ankles as she leaps over blossoming vines of shadow.

Tau stands still as stone, tiny shapes moving behind her concentrating eyes. A faint buzzing fills the air as she opens her mouth, and a swarm of locusts erupts from her throat, winging into the air with grim purpose.

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a mixture of soft emerald-turquoise and dark midnight violet.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity strains against Nocht's incursions, beads of golden light dripping from Her brow and falling to the ground in splashes that become blossoms amidst the grass. "Nocht! Why do You work against Me? You... You know... what Kaenalye was to Me!" Her blazing eyes fix upon the Silent. "You once... COMFORTED Me!" Tears splash from Her eyes as She trembles from the strain of Her efforts.

Evette stands still as stone, tiny shapes moving behind her concentrating eyes. A faint buzzing fills the air as she opens her mouth, and a swarm of locusts erupts from her throat, winging into the air with grim purpose.

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees hums a somber song of all that they have lost in their long years, with joy at the end as they think of what might come.

Adrenthorne reaches out towards Xiran in a hopeful grasp, joining her again as the moonlit coven continues their dancing and song.

Closing her eyes, Illyria bows her head in supplication to the glory of the Wyrd. As she offers her silent prayer, shadows ripple over her skin, ephemeral vines curl up her limbs, and the scent of roses suffuses the air around her.

Illyria falls to the ground and implores Mother Night for her dark favour. A glittering wall of darkness sweeps up before her, and a shadowy female figure emerges, who bends down and kisses her on the forehead. Illyria screams out in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, as her lips blacken and a nimbus of crackling black lightning lights up over her head.

One of the shimmering orbs slams into the golden shield surrounding Maylea as She calls down to Nocht, enveloping it in a frightening explosion of wyrdenfire. "Do not bring up only the convenient chapters of Our story, Maylea. Let Us not forget..." With each word He speaks another orb of liquid power slams into the Goddess's shield. "It was You who. Betrayed. Me. First."

Xiran thanks Adrenthorne with bowed head, raising her chin resolutely once more.

Eyes wide, Lanni Ahonen says, "Lady Maylea?"

Aigeiros of the Black Poplar thinks of their past pain and continues to hum joy and pain and loss and rebirth and change revolution flowers grapes oil trees that bore fruit only in peace.

Slightly breathless, their voice taking on a melodic quality, you say, "Black Idols of the Wyrd, children of the Lady of Thorns, we call for Your guidance. May You rattle underfoot, and wing in the dark skies overhead. May You consume the weak and undeserving, and weave the most beautiful of webs to ensnare the foolish."

A shifting, mist-wreathed beast morphs rapidly between a variety of forms, talon to claw and snout to pincer. It settles into the disturbing visage of a scorpion, and moves to settle over Tau, the mandibles imposed on her face as the spirit of savagery empowers her.

Sondayga continues to dance following Xiran's and the others movements.

The ground shudders as explosions of wyrdenfire rock the skies above.

Aubrey glares at Nocht, remembering something from long ago, which only seems to strengthen her resolve. "Lady Maylea!" she calls out. "Do not let Him distract You and distress You!"

Ampelos of the grapevines sings of cycles in cycles and songs and dances and bloodshed and loss and hope and joy.

Nialla's lips curl back into a snarl at Nocht's words, and she spits her defiance in her reply. "Her strength is the strength of the Moon! The strength of Hart! The strength of countless generations of the forest! We are the Serenwilde, and through us You have her strength, my Lady! We stand with You as You have stood with us, and together we stand Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. Everything that is the Seren is us, and everything that we are is Yours!"

Evette overturns a shadow cauldron, the last of the shadows spilling into the area. Raising her dagger to her hand, the elfen slashes across it spilling blood onto the ground.

Silvanos having lost all strength to do more than sing, they continue to dance and sing and remember Kailak and their hopes for the future.

Tore Niskanen looks about at Nialla, Tyrus, and all the Serens present. "She needs help!"

Finishing another circle, Illyria stops, now, swaying in place as she closes her eyes, reaching down through the earth to her connection with the Wyrd, up through the sky to her connection with the Night, so beautiful overhead. As shadows engulf her and vines of darkness wreath her, she calls silently to Night and receives Her kiss, then explodes onward once more, dancing anew, primal and savage and trailing shadow in her wake.

A soft smile passes over Adrenthorne's face, a blush rising from his cheeks. He nods towards Xiran and continues on, dancing to Silvanos's song.

Xiran sings in moonsong as the fylgia swirl forth at Tyrus's call, colours argent and emerald streaking through their ever-changing forms as they weave about a tiny swaying sprout.

Silvanos sways violently as they continue to sing to the plants and moon and the aethers beyond and things they hardly remember.

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees links hands with their siblings and sit around the sprout, offering it encouraging words about how it was like to grow when they were small.

The beat on the drums rising as Illyria's dancing becomes more primal, Gael calls out over the drums in a bright tenor, eyes fixed on the sprout as it sways and glows, "In midnight's gaze, Mother Night stands tall! The Wyrden power will never fall! Oh wayward sprout, so far from home, you do belong in Wyrden loam!"

[Synl becomes a tree!]

Illyria cries out as she goes, "What is the beauty of the Moon when the Night engulfs it! What beauty is the forest when the Wyrd consumes it? Nothing matters but Glomdoring! Glory be to the Glomdoring!" With a savage laugh, caught in the fall of blackthorn petals and wyrden splendour as she dances to Gael's drum, the faeling is all but coated in blood now.

Sondayga runs his palm against the sharpened edge of a waning crescent moon katana, crimson blood falling into the foliage as they dance around the circle.

Ampelos of the grapevines nestles with their siblings and hums a low song to the sprout as they offer it guidance and memory of what they know of the past.

Tau clutches her nekai overhead, her still-running blood splashing over her features. "The sting of Betrayal cuts both ways." The faeling enunciates clearly over the din. "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa. Scorpion! What bond we have, I call upon it now. Assist the Wyrd in this time. I, who am Tau the Twilit, Last Guildmaster of the Nekotai, the essence of Twilight, and a thousand years of the silent melody."

You exclaim, "Glory be to the Glomdoring!"

Calfuray closes her eyes, following the rhythm of the dance as she prays under her breath. "Chuchip, Glinshari, Aramir, Meluidre, Rhoswen, Laron, Shi... The forest calls for your aide. Nature needs you once again".

Aigeiros of the Black Poplar links with their siblings and sings of moon and summer and winter and growth and hunger and cycles.

Tyrus enters intro a trance, whispering words of ritual only known to the Wodewoses, grimacing with effort in concentration as he chants, bringing forth every ounce of his being to holding the Wyrd at bay, "Strength to the Verdant Lands, Strength to Lady Maylea and all Her creatures within!"

Warden Sondayga Zayah, Winter's End says, "Rise Serynwodenhillirim!, our beat Wanes on."

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a dark midnight violet.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf exclaims, "Basala'oren Seren!"

Xiran nods reverently to Calfuray. "Basala'oren Seren!"

Fae swirl about the dancing Mooncoven, adding their song and dance to that of the Serenwilders, reaching out to lay hands upon the mortals they came forth to aid Nialla. "The light and beauty of the Moon overcomes all darkness! Night cannot hide her splender, cannot shroud her purity! The Wyrd cannot taint that which is Hart protects! The forest shall rise, unspoiled and untpuched, pure and glorious, and retake that which it is owed!"

Silvanos hums a soft tune as they prepare more plant food for the growth here, making sure to spread it carefully around.

Qistrel squeezes Calfuray's hand, chanting the names of the Ancestors in harmony with her, trying to summon their strength in this hour of need.

You see Reader Illyria, Listener of the Silent Knell yell, "F'ai Glomdoring!"

Aubrey bows her head in passionate meditation to strengthen Maylea.

Branches shaking, the rhythm slowly rising, Synl of the Stormcrow Tribe says, "Glory be to Glomdoring. The wyrd survives. Always."

You see Umbral Evoker Gael, Proselyte of the Awakening yell, "F'ai Glomdoring!"

Subsumed by the fury of the song, Adrenthorne breaks towards Tyrus, barely dodging the wyrdenwood's emergence. He joins him in the wild chants of the ancient Wodewoses, beating his chest and shouting alongside his kin, "Basala'oren Seren!".

Countering the two, Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa!"

Bloody Katana raised skyward, Warden Sondayga Zayah, Winter's End says, "Basala'oren Seren!"

Silvanos sings and meditates on the moon and it's own cycles and of Kailak and Night and Day and pain.

Tyrus, Ravager of the Red Branch exclaims, "Basal'oren Seren!"

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a mixture of soft emerald-turquoise and dark midnight violet.

Holding bent arms to each side, palms facing towards the sky, Calfuray proclaims, "Basala'oren Seren!" while ethereal blue flames flare to life upon her fingertips.

You see Little Bear Aubrey yell, "Basala'oren Seren!"

You see Scourge Evette Stormcrow, the Heartless yell, "Ole'noc Caiheldor b'fa."

Silvanos says hoarsely "Basala'oren Seren" as best they can.

[Kaervas comes along.]

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity continues clutching the Eye of Dynara, energies radiating from Her across as She floats above. She strains and struggles, and another flash of light shimmers across the hills.

You sing, "To the Dark Spirits, I do call... Your persistence, Your vengeance, may we call upon them now to help the Silent Lord. Guide us all, Listener, Evoker, Dusk..."

Silvanos hums as they watch dawn break as they continue their dance with their hamadryads.

A flash of white light shimmers across the hills.

Sondayga lifts his hands and summons a wreath of silver fire that encircles him in an ethereal blaze. When he lowers his hands, the flames scatter like sparks on a crisp breeze.

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees sings an enchanting song of dawn and dusk and the glory of growth.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf says, "Spirits of the past! Protectors of the forest! Nature calls you once more! Rise and aide!"

Eyes suddenly sharp, you say, "The light of the Moon will not blind us of the Wyrd, those who embrace the Shadows."

Qistrel raises a hand and silver fireflies rise from the forest to the south, forming a cloud as they wing their way through the air, casting silvery light across the hills.

Ampelos of the grapevines sways around and steadies Silvanos as they dance and hum on change.

Holding bent arms to each side, palms facing towards the sky, Calfuray proclaims, "Basala'oren Seren!" while ethereal blue flames flare to life upon her fingertips.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

You think to yourself: ...the painting...

Aigeiros of the Black Poplar continues to carefully sit and speak to the sprout here, talking to it about all the stages of life for plants that they know of.

Synl sinks into the rot below, roots finding home as a putrescent crimson sap begins to flow down his cracked bark.

Albany, the stag beetle leaps into the air, joining the fireflies in their dance as they circle the area.

In a melodic, sing-songy voice, Nialla Myeras, Midsummer Herald says, "The Wyrd will burn before Mother's argent flames! Crow will fall to Hart's strength! The daughters and sisters of Night shall be taken by the ladies of silver and all will be as it once was! Come, Albion, come Selene, come Luna, join with us in oir circle and cast Mother's light across these lands!"

Silvanos takes a long drink from their pitcher plant full of water, carefully spitting the bugs back into the plant as they do so.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf exclaims, "Glinshari! Tokota! Poloma! The forest that is now your home calls you to assist against those who destroyed your former home!"

Suddenly, Nocht the Silent ceases His efforts to bring down Maylea. Reaching into His robes, He pulls out two thin needles made of crystal - their dangerously sharp ends coated in some caustic, viscous liquid. He looks up to the Goddess as He allows the twin needles to float in the air before Him. Without looking away from His Enemy, Nocht makes a casual flick of His wrist and the two needles dart forward, not at Her, but at the kaelye that do not reside within Her golden shield. The first plunges deep into Lanni's shoulder while the second embeds itself within Tore's stomach immediatley after.

"Aiiiieeee!" Lanni Ahonen cries out as the venom enters his system. He immediately falls limp upon the ground, his gaunt face frozen in an expression of distress, his long, lanky limbs spread out unnaturally as he no longer has the ability to hold himself up. Not even his chest rises or falls, as his lungs are gripped and he can no longer breathe.

Likewise Tore Niskanen can barely exclaim, "No!" before she too falls limp, terror evident upon every line of her form, her dark eyes left open in paralysed horror. She falls over, her stocky body crushing her own chest as no breath issues from her purpling lips.

Moving faster and faster to the savage Shadowbeat, Illyria tosses back her head and laughs as she tosses glittering rose petals at the shield and trails shadows over its surface, tossing blood to the left and right with the merry abandon of a child at play. With sensuous flicks of her hips and nimble spins, hers is a primal dance as she races about the shield, leaping and slapping away motes of errant moonlight as she goes. "See the glory of the Wyrd, little sprout!" she cries out, her voice lilting and savage. Jumping nimbly over Lanni, she continues onward in a swirl of aphotic silk.

Xiran gasps.

You see Aphid Tau, the Twilit yell, "Falter, Serenwilde. Kneel. Bend."

Silvanos strides forward to the sprout, encouraging it to remember how change must come from pain and does not require pain to stay forever, for pain without end is nothing without growth and regain.

You see Nialla Myeras, Midsummer Herald yell, "BASALA'OREN SEREN! We will never bend before the Wyrd! We will never fall to the servants of Night!"

Silvanos lazily draws their wings to and fro through the air, fanning them slowly.

Moonsong gaining urgency, Xiran Xiran sings as the Fae grasp the flickering fires summoned forth by Sondayga. The ethereal light flares forth in their grasp as they surge and twirl about a tiny swaying sprout, a azure wall of flame rising in defence.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity drops the Eye of Dynara, whose glow flickers and gleams as it remains in Her loosened grip, casting even starker shadows across all of you and across the hills. "My kaelye! Little ones!" The Goddess lands and spreads Her arms to envelop Lanni, and then Tore. "What has happened to you?"

Slowly, Maylea lifts Her head, a look of utter rage crossing Her face. She speeds towards Nocht, bright face mere inches from the dark features of the Silent God. "WHAT. HAVE YOU. DONE. TO MY SISTER'S. PROGENY?" With barely a flicker, the supple bow Pathfinder shimmers its way into Her open hand.

Silvanos continues once again their song with their hamadrayds as they encourage the growth and rebirth of the nature around them.

Calfuray growls menacingly at Nocht.

The colour drains from Adrenthorne's face as Lanni falls, he glances to Xiran, then to his other kin for guidance.

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a mixture of soft emerald-turquoise and dark midnight violet.

"Never falter, never despair, never submit to the Wyrd!" Amirae shouts as she tightens her grip, chanting in unison with her communemates.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf says, "No honour from the southern forest. Even their divine resort to murdering the innocent.."

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees sings enouraging words of having changed before and kjnowing they will do so again.

You have emoted: Esei briefly covers their mouth, fingers tightening around their staff.

Sondayga continues to dance heavy ritualist steps around circle.

Qistrel narrows her eyes to thin slits.

Ampelos of the grapevines nods and continues their verses of what they tried to teach Silvanos when they were young.

Leaves falling as his branches shake more wildly, Synl of the Stormcrow Tribe says, "Grow, my dearest sprout. Grow like me. Survive as the Wyrd did."

Xiran raises a trembling hand tgether with Adrenthorne, silvery light beaming towards Tore Niskanen.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Innocent? Hah. As if."

Voice echoed by the low note of the Glomdoring, you whisper, "Great Wyrd, we call upon You now. Bind those who seek to escape Your might, Your everlasting glory."

Aubrey calls out to Maylea, "We are with You, Lady, do not let Him make You despair!"

Tyrus begins to beat on his platemail at chest level rhythmically with his sword, as he begins to chant in supplication to the the Hart and Moon, each clang of metal upon armor drowning the chants of the Wyrden, while his own cries echo upon the hills.

As if their very heart has become audible, the pulsing beat of the Drums of the Dead thrums through Tau's form.

Nialla turns her focus to the fallen kaelye, her song shifting, her dance transitioning to one of renewal, of regrowth and resurrection as she sings of Lanni and Tore, sings of the kaelye and Her love for them and She they splintered from, and sends forth the plea to Mother Moon to grant them the gift of life again.

Silvanos sings and laughs as they continue for these gathered take too much faith in things not grey.

Breaking from moonsong, Xiran Stormcrow, Scribe of the Woodbine says, "They live! They need to breathe again soon though! They're paralyzed!"

No longer gripping the shield that once protected Maylea, the shadowy tendrils instead twist in circles around the Silent Lord as the Goddess draws Her weapon. "I gave you a chance to cease, dearest Maylea. Did I not warn You? Whatever comes next, You only have Yourself to blame."

Evette raises her hand, laying it on one of Synl's branches.

Silvanos sings a song to Moon and wonders to sing of Kailak and her then and her ability to help this sprout grown as best it can.

Shaking, Adrenthorne grasps Xiran's hand and stands alongside her, raising his own silver-edged blade to augment Xiran's own silver-light. His eyes are closed shut, as he focuses on murmuring healing rites.

"You have poisoned them! Reverse it! This very moment!" Below Maylea's raging feet, writhing heaps of purple monkshood, fiery butterfly weed, orange lily, darkened petunia, and scarlet adonis rise with Her every word. As the scatter of blossoms reach out towards Nocht, they become more stark and shadowed: snarling snapdragons, prickling blackthorn and berried nightshade.

Tau raises her nekai over her head, celebrating the Silent Lord's kill. The vicious warble of kaif'ing fills the air, an attempt to drown out other supplication, itself bearing a subtle melody as old as time.

You think to yourself: The blackthorn...

Aubrey says in a quieter voice made no less strong for its low volume, meant to be heard by the sprout and those in the circle, "Hope need only be a whisper. We are not defeated as long as there is hope."

Eyes gray with an inner storm, Warden Sondayga Zayah, Winter's End says, "Fylgia, lend your strength to those fallen."

Unceasing in her movements, Illyria continues dancing, a feral light of glee glittering in her eyes as other turn their attention to the fallen. With a careless gesture, she pulls away the cord that binds her hair and lets it flow behind her as her circling becomes smoother, silkier, predatory. She stalks the sprout now, murmuring and whispering even as she blocks out the Divines above to focus on the seedling.

Silvanos grows exhausted but continues to sing and pray and wonder why one says killed if they are claimed to not be dead.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf whispers, "Mighty Bull... Heed the call of those in need.."

Silvanos urges their fylgia onward and they do so, joining their hamadryad in song and dnace.

Silvanos gives a pained sigh.

Folding their wings so they can reach them easily, Silvanos preens their wings happily, straightening out the disheveled feathers.

Silvanos lazily draws their wings to and fro through the air, fanning them slowly.

Sondayga thumps his strong fists against each other menacingly, roaring out a sudden, thunderous snarl.

Aubrey turns her healing skills on Tore Niskanen and Lanni Ahonen, whispering to them of life and breath.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of your surroundings.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

Calfuray turns toward a tiny swaying sprout and intones a low-pitched mantra, her eyes aglow with true delight.

Silvanos continues to sing, with a cloaking mist from the fylgia adding to their atmosphere as they do so.

Cautiously opening his eyes, Adrenthorne glances between the little sprout and the two kaelye.

In a melodic, sing-songy voice, Nialla Myeras, Midsummer Herald says, "For despair to win it needs snuff every last spark of hope. For hope, but a single glimmer needs survive, ready to flare back to brilliant light. We will not give in, will not despair, for we are the Serenwilde. By the grace of the Moonhart Mother we will grow and spread and return life to the blighted."

Relief spreads over Xiran's features as Aubrey's silvery light passes through Tore Niskanen and Lanni Ahonen.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf says, "Keep on. Nature will survive."

The shadowy tendrils that shield Nocht now lash out, striking at the growing heaps of brilliant blooms as they grow and draining them of colour and life. "You need only do as I ask..." Nocht whispers as His shadows reach towards Maylea. "Give Me the Eye, Maylea."

Aubrey nods her head enthusiastically at Nialla.

You see Maylea, Bloom of Serenity shout, "Never!!!"

Reflecting the balance of power in this ritual location, a tiny swaying sprout glows a mixture of soft emerald-turquoise and dark midnight violet.

Silvanos hardly notices they they've worn their feet almost bare, as geese feet have little in the way of skin or blood already.

Brave Herald Calfuray, of House Strongleaf exclaims, "Basala'oren Seren!"

As the Goddess and God fight amongst Themselves, the hills about Them begin to fade in their glow, no longer sustained by the powers of the Eye of Dynara. The magic goes out of them, and it is almost as if the ritual had never begun in the first place.

Aubrey thrills to her Lady's courage, crying out, "Basala'oren Seren!"

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees awkwardly wraps cloth around Silvanos's feet as they continue to dance.

But in a burst of vibrancy, freshness spreads up the tiny waving sprout and across the hills, displacing all Wyrden effects that had been impressed upon the lands. The vibrancy spreads south towards the Serenwilde, and there is a puff of light in the distance, unnoticed by either Divine, Who are surely about to come to serious blows.

You have emoted: Eyes slightly downcast, Esei lifts a lissom blooming blackthorn staff with both hands and begins to hum the soft, dark note of the Glomdoring.

Silvanos hums a thoughtful sound and wonders if the Eye does not want to be used in a fight.

As the intoxicating fragrance of bromeliads perfumes the air, you sense that Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons has returned to mortal perception.

Evette momentarily loses control of her body as it begins to keep time to the soft spoken song of the Shadowbeat.

Synl moves to stand deep within the crowd, bringing his branches together to shield the Shards below.

You have emoted: Esei inhales sharply, halting entirely.

Upon a wave of wind bitter as the salted seas, the striking voice of Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons cries, "What a commotion. And for once, I am not at the centre of it."

Calfuray squeezes herself in a congratulatory manner.

Silvanos continues to sing as they have no idea who this new one is.

The sprout dies on the spot, but it glows with a soft brilliance in its death.

A surge of sea water crashes in, parting to reveal the lithe form of Li-varili stepping forth in dripping beauty.

Illyria slows to a stop, exhaling, swaying serenely as she stares implacably at the spot where the spout had struggled.

Silvanos ignores its death and continues to speak to it, as all things will be reborn in time.

Qistrel attempts to take comfort in her rather dubious situation.

Calfuray bows respectfully to Li-varili.

Adrenthorne drops to his knees, exhausted.

Silvanos bows respectfully to Li-varili.

"My, my," the Lady of the Lagoons murmurs, flipping back the wet strands of Her striking red hair as She rises from murky waters. "What have We here." She turns to look upon the Silent Lord and the Bloom of Serenity, Her gaze rapt with curiosity, as She says, "You are in something of a stalemate, aren't you?"

Qistrel bows respectfully to Li-varili.

Silvanos has not really noticed what is happening and continues to sing and dance with their now bandaged feet.

Amirae bows respectfully to Li-varili.

Evette inclines her head politely to Li-varili.

Tyrus inclines his head politely to Li-varili.

Gael ceases pounding on his drum, breathing heavily as small droplets of blood run down his raw fingers and his eyes turn up to watch Li-varili.

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees pulls on Silvanos' arm and says "I think a Lagoon has appeared here??"

Still moving to the distant Shadowbeat, Illyria curtseys to Li-varili, but her eyes are now for Nocht alone.

The roar of a predator rips through the air as a shifting, mist-wreathed beast manifests into a glowing, jade tiger as it menacingly prowls just beyond the reach of Uzriel.

Her voice continuing to be a threat, and Her eyes fixed upon Him in rage, Maylea, Bloom of Serenity says to Nocht, "Reverse. The poison. Now."

Xiran wraps a protective arm about Adrenthorne, cradling his head. She bows her head before Li-varili as deeply as she can manage.

Qistrel nods her head at Uzriel.

Aubrey narrows her eyes but says nothing, dipping her head either in respectful greeting to Li-varili or to regain her strength, or perhaps both.

Silvanos looks confuseedly around and continues to sing and dance.

Tau gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

Aigeiros of the Black Poplar bows deeply to Li-varili and continues to dance.

The Silent Lord turns His veiled gaze towards Li-varili as She enters, the shadowy tendrils He commanded retreating from the attack to encircle Him once more. "I am not sure stalemate is a fair assessment, Cousin. I do believe it is I who holds the upper hand here."

Adrenthorne leans heavily into Xiran, hugging his own knees closer to his body as he apprehensively eyes the gathered Divine.

Evette nods her head at Tau, showing her acceptance.

Silvanos wonders if they should give scholars to others if they wish in the future.

Stretching his branches, Synl casts a gloomy shadow over Xiran.

Silvanos continues to dance and ignores the voice in the back of their head that yelled at them for being noisy.

Rage flairing up in Maylea again, She cries, "Do you think your little trick will make Me give up that which I have worked so hard for? For My Sister's splinters?" The blossoms at Her feet snap and snarl, though the blackthorns curl gently around Nocht as if in greeting.

Nialla moves forward to the fallen kaelye, kneeling between them and reaching out towards them both, laying one hand upon each and questing out with her healer's senses, a thin tendril of power twisting through their paralysed forms to lend aid in fighting the poison that holds them.

Lingering with an almost rabid interest, Li-varili slithers in between the two warring Divine, caressing a salt-kissed whip of lashing waters between Her fingers. "No? From where I stand, neither of you will give way until the other yields." She smirks, amused, light winking off the compass that dangles from Her neck. "And that may be a long while yet."

Ampelos of the grapevines continues to sing and dance with their siblings, speaking of rebirth and change and chance.

Lanni Ahonen quivers, turning more blue and purple than it seemed possible he could be, for lack of breath.

Her eyes falling to the fallen kaelye, speculation and calculation blossom in Illyria's gaze.

Xiran looks to Synl with unreadable eyes before turning to bow her head to Nialla.

Silvanos laughs at the thought and the need for balance and changes therein that they've lived through, or not, as the times have changed. They continue to waterh the plants here with the pitcher plant as they do so.

Li-varili glances askance at Silvanos.

Silvanos hums a happy tune.

Silvanos blinks owlishly at Li-varili before continuing to sing and dance as they do so.

Illyria discreetly sticks out a heel to trip Silvanos as she crosses to study the kaelye.

Tyrus extends his hand to catch Silvanos' fall.

A flicker of annoyance flashes across the face of Li-varili as She snaps Her fingers.
Water pools around Silvanos's feet and they immediately begins to sink. As the water closes over their head, the cold laughter of Li-varili echoes faintly. Then water and Silvanos are both gone.

Qistrel steps in front of the kaelye quickly.

With a tilt of His head, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Perhaps... Every moment She delays though, dear Cousin, Her favoured shards draw closer to death. I am not certain how long a mortal can survive with lungs that barely work."

Aubrey glares angrily at Li-varili.

Using her tongue and the roof of her mouth, Illyria makes a quiet clicking noise.

His voice nervous amidst the din, Adrenthorne whispers softly to Nialla, "Um...how...How are they?"

Silvanos continues to entirely ignore what happened and sing and dance and laugh.

Calfuray giggles happily.

Using her tongue and the roof of her mouth, Evette makes a quiet clicking noise.

Qistrel Strongleaf says to Illyria, "Your shadow god has done enough."

Aubrey releases the hands of those in the coven, the ritual done for now, and stretches her hands towards the motionless kaelye, taking a deep breath and trying again to focus her healing skills on them.

Maylea bends and scoops up Lanni and Tore in Her arms again, Her chestnut tresses swaying as tears of anger and desperation flow from Her eyes.

Kraneia of the Dogwood Trees laughs and grins as Silvanos reappears and grabs their hand and continues their song.

"They fade fast, little mortals," Li-varili exhales, watching Maylea gather the kaelye close. "Come, cousins. Is there not an exchange to be made between you? For each of you has what the other desires."

Silvanos sways slightly at the multiple scene changes but continues unabated in their song.

"Oh," Adrenthorne says, resigned. "I guess that says it all," he murmurs as Maylea takes the kaelye into Her arms.

The Goddess touches a hand to Lanni's chest, trying to restore life and breath to the gaunt, limp kaelye. He does not stir. "What poison have you used, that it resists My power?"

Maylea glares angrily at Nocht.

With the sprout gone and kaelye lifted out of the way, Illyria steps silently to a point just behind Nocht, alert and waiting as blood drip-drips to the grass from brutally gashed wrist and palm.

Ampelos of the grapevines sighs softly and continues to sing and hum of rebirth and change and difference.

Silvanos hums a happy tune.
Gazing to the heavens with arms spread wide, Silvanos sings a soft song of the Moon and turns into their own slow dance, following the bewitching melody of moonlight.
Bowing their head in reverence, Silvanos chants, "Mother Moon, light my path."

Nocht, the Silent reaches into His robes and pulls forth a simple, unremarkable vial. "My dearest Glomdoring gave Me a gift, and I made it from that... You need not know more, dearest Maylea. Our Cousin speaks the truth though..." He gestures towards the vial in His hands. "An antidote to their suffering. Yours. For the Eye."

Silvanos and thinks, loudly that they do not each have something the other ones, as one caused the pain in the first place for that sole purpose.

Her voice quavering, Maylea, Bloom of Serenity asks, "Can you even reverse it? Have you..." She pauses for a moment, then erupting in rage again as Nocht speaks: "An ANTIDOTE? For the Eye!"

Flatly, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Yes. For the Eye. You love those two dearly, do you not?"

Silvanos hums a happy tune.

Murky waves gather around Li-varili as She positions Herself before Nocht, facing Maylea in Her grief and fury. She waits and listens, enraptured by the sharp exchange of words. "How much is a mortal life in the balance," the Goddess sighs in agreement, drifting towards Maylea. "I would not make the deal either, were I You."

Silvanos continues to sing and offer prayer and song about change.

Illyria leans forward on the balls of her toes, her eyes feverishly bright as she studies the Goddess who had so severely wronged her Lord, a quiet, cruel delight in her eyes at Her predicament.

Throwing Her head back, Maylea retorts, "As if You will not just take the Eye and then leave, antidote and all!" She drops the two kaelye gently to the ground. "Your word, You always go back on, Nocht." Her eyes blaze.

Calfuray smiles softly.

You have emoted: A fine tremor runs through Esei's form as they bring their staff close to their chest, silent but listening raptly.

Nialla gives a small shake of her head to Adrenthorne as she pushes back to her feet, moving to take position to the side and a little behind of her Lady, refusing to relinquish the threads of power connecting her to Lanni and Tore as the healer continues in her attempts to purge them of the poison, futile as it may be.

Qistrel moves quickly to guard the fallen kaeyle, Albany returning to her side.

Softly, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Play at Your innocence all you want, Maylea. I have made My offer."

Silvanos utters a deep, rumbling laugh.

Aubrey takes a deep breath and gathers her strength again, kneeling besides Nialla to add her own healing powers to that of her comrade's.

Silvanos continues their dance as geese know not when to stop and never have.
Nodding in acknowledgement, Adrenthorne averts his gaze from Nialla's and blankly stares at the ground.
Amirae joins Nialla and Aubrey, assisting in the healing as they can.

Silvanos hums a pleasant tune of death.

Gael continue to sit, half-crouched with drum placed before him, as he watches both Maylea and Li-varili.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," Li-varili murmurs, lowering the whip held taught in Her hands. "For I hold a fondness of the forests of Lusternia, as all Awakeners do. Let Us save Our rage for those of the cities who deserve Our ire." She extends a hand before Nocht in offering, saying, "Give Me the antidote, and I shall obtain the Eye of Dynara for You. Neither of You has betrayed My trust, and I seek allies in this Basin of Life."

Silvanos continues to sing a song of change and hunger and hope and home.

From her spot behind Nocht, Illyria shifts her study to Nialla, the quiet calculation returning as she listens to the Divines with a half-tilted head.

Her gaze never leaving the kaelye, Aubrey calls up to Maylea, "Do not be tricked, dear Lady! We will find a way to restore the kaelye!"

Silvanos laughs as they sing and pull out a sketch pad to commemorate this.

Maylea pauses at Li-varili's speech, eyeing Her appraisingly. "You will facilitate an exchange? Eye for the antidote?"

Shrugging lightly, Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons says, "Or You may war here as long as You like, and let the ill mortals expire. It matters not to Me."

Silvanos sings and dances as they know all things must die in the end, just to be reborn.

A faint whisper at your shroud. Murmurs of plots and plans and a deep suspicion.

A look of understanding crossing her features, Tau nods her head slowly.

Tore Niskanen twitches, her limbs now ashen. It is hardly clear that she still remains alive.

The compass that Li-varili holds tic tocks like a pendulum to and fro, counting the moments as the kaelye continue to draw closer to death.

Maylea reaches out at Tore Niskanen, then She glares in rage at Nocht. "Are you in agreement with this?"

Silvanos hums and notes that even with an antidote, that it will note restore them to full health and they might die regardless.

ou have emoted: Esei's fingers brush lightly across the hem of their shroud, closing their eyes.

Tau tilts her head back and looks up at the sky.

Silvanos continues to sing as nothing and everything happens around them.

Nocht wraps His fingers around the vial as He considers both the Goddesses - the shadows twisting around Him as He ponders the proposal. "So be it. But the cure is not to touch Her fingers until the Eye is no longer in Her grasp..."

Xiran overlaps her hand upon Adrenthorne's. Silvery light arcs through Adrenthorne's fingers towards the healing triumvirate of Nialla, Aubrey, and Amirae.

Silvanos sways and leans on Nialla tiredly before continuing to dance.

Vines of bromeliads blossom before Li-varili as She laughs, raising Her hands a gesture of acquiescence. "And You, Maylea?" She asks. "In honour of Our time in the mangroves, with the bromeliad blossoms."

Crouched in a pool of wyrden shadows, a mocking smile flits over Illyria's face as she studies the futile efforts of the mortals who strive to heal where even their Goddess failed. With a faint shrug, she looks up with considerably more interest to study Li-varili and Nocht, speculation swimming through her eyes.

Calfuray's gaze passes between the three divine as the conversation proceeds, though a soft shimmer of wonder sparks in her eyes each time they pass over The Lady of the Lagoons.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity lifts Her hand that holds the Eye, tears streaming down Her cheeks. She glances down at the two inert kaelye. "Li-varili. For the sake of Or time in the mangroves, with the bromeliad blossoms." She hands the other Goddess the glowing orb. "May you not betray My trust."

The pointed tips of your ears twitch to hear an errant sound.

"Ah, Maylea. We who have been betrayed know its sting well," Li-varili murmurs, taking the glowing orb in Her hands. She studies it with an acute fascination, turning now to the Silent Lord. "And You, Cousin of the Sixth Circle?"

The pale mists part abruptly as a shifting beast stands with the form of a tremendous bear, towering overhead. In mere moments, the mist disperses and the beast vanishes into the shadows.

Silvanos settles to the ground in a cross-legged position, inhaling deeply. As they brings their hands up to rest open-palmed at either side, they exhales, all tension leaving their body.

Silvanos hums a happy tune.

Silvanos nods and stands back up.

Silvanos laughs and says "Well, this was enlightening, be well."

Nocht, the Silent hesitates for only a moment before He places the vial within Li-varili's hands.

Aubrey gives a pained sigh.

With a flat look on Her face, the Lady of the Lagoons murmurs, "I wonder. Why did you not strike at the Fourth Circle as We discussed, Nocht?"

Illyria's eyes sharpen as she studies Li-varili, then narrow.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity tilts Her head. "Li-varili? Will You not make the exchange?"

"Mmm... As I told You before, Cousin," Nocht, the Silent whispers. "She cares far more for these children than even Herself. This was the best approach..."

"Absurd." A cackling laugh ripples from the Lady of the Lagoons as the Goddess grins widely. "The poison worked as intended, at least. How pleasing, even if it did not meet its intended target."

Gael stares avidly at Li-varili, bloodied palms flexing into tight fists for a moment.

A frown crosses Maylea's face as She reaches forward to attempt to snatch the Eye of Dynara from Her grasp. "Give the Eye back to Me, if you will not exchange it!"

The cloying scent of bromeliads fills the air, suffocating in its onslaught on your senses. "Now, now," the Goddess murmurs, examining the antidote in Her hands. "I believe a deal can be made that all will approve of, hm?"

"You remember what I told You, Silent Lord?" Li-varili asks, the antidote dangling from Her hands. "Of betrayal, and vulnerability."

The shadows surrounding Nocht suddenly twist in agitation as He takes a step closer, "We already had an arrangement, Cousin... You need not make enemies with the entire Basin."

The hot flash of anger radiates from Li-varili's eyes as She hisses out, "Do not think I have forgotten how You looked upon Me, Silent One! For I recall well Your presence at the Awakening of the Sea. I forget nothing." And with a sneer of disdain, She throws the antidote to Maylea with a careless gesture, as if it is nothing more to Her than a piece of refuse.

Elarin inclines his head politely to those around him.

Clearly exhausted, Adrenthorne raises a fist to his chest in greeting to Elarin.

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 11th of Dvarsh, 592 years after the Coming of Estarra.

Swiftly crossing his arms over his chest, Elarin gives a quick bow in a tribal gesture of greeting.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity bends and begins to administer to the antidote to the two kaelye, ignoring the talk now between Nocht and Li-varili.

Nocht turns towards Li-varili, the darkness of the New Moon even more terrible in His presence. "And the Eye, Cousin?" He takes another step towards the Goddess.

Lanni Ahonen gasps a single breath and rises, arms and legs flailing. "Aieee!!!' he cries again, his green eyes confused and distressed. He crouches to his feet, tail lashing back and forth as he tries hard to make sense of the situation.

"You wanted the Eye taken from Maylea," the Lady of the Lagoons purrs, the murk and mire of Her waves rising forth once more to enfold Her. "And We all got what We wanted, didn't We?" With the Eye of Dynara in one hand and Ilaedron's Compass in the other, the latter's pointer remains fixed upon the Divine artifact, taut with quivering desire. It has, at last, found its mark.

Beside Lanni, Tore Niskanen shudders, twitches, before she takes a trembling breath. Looking about and seeing that the lands have once more reverted to their original state, without any trace of the blue of kaelye comfort, she throws her hands upon her face and begins to weep, disconsolate.

Calfuray bounces up and down.

Qistrel wraps a comforting arm around Tore Niskanen.

As She vanishes into the sea and foam, Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons says to Nocht, "The first betrayal stings the most, Nocht. You have already weathered one. You will overcome this in time, too."

Flipping Her striking red hair, Li-varili turns and dives away beneath a seaweed laden tide.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

The figure of Li-varili, the Lady of the Lagoons ascends to the Havens, the Eye of Dynara bright within Her hands as She raises it aloft before the Basin of Life.

Maylea, Bloom of Serenity stands, staring at Nocht. "She betrayed You," the Goddess murmurs, "She betrayed both of Us."

Nialla lays her hand on Tore's shoulder , kneeling in front of her and glancing towards Lanni.

Upon a wave of wind bitter as the salted seas, the striking voice of Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons cries, "Now...! Unleash the power that was promised to Me! Give Me that which I desire most!"

Illyria exhales hard, the breath hissing between her teeth, fury flashing in her eyes as she turns her gaze to the revived kaelye.

Nocht, the Silent does not respond to the Goddess, tilting His head to look at what Li-varili now attempts high above.

Gael stares skyward as the voice of Li-varili calls out across the basin, his good ear giving a little twitch of anxiety.

A surging light rises over the horizon, turbulent with the glaucous hue of the sea as the figure of Li-varili is wields the Eye of Dynara expectantly, its energies radiating from Her form.

You have emoted: Esei reaches forward, clasping a firm hand on Illyria's shoulder for several moments before letting go.

Her form alert, Maylea also looks upwards at the other Goddess now holding the Eye.

Lanni Ahonen picks up the still weeping Tore Naskinen and takes her away unnoticed by the Divine, walking with his tail trailing and a solemnity in his steps, a heaviness that speaks to the loss that both of them have felt this day.

And then, the light scatters, breaking in on itself and Li-varili cries out in frustration, the artifact dulling in Her shaking hands.

Illyria ignores the touch, her pupils slitted as she gazes into the midnight sky.

Upon a wave of wind bitter as the salted seas, the striking voice of Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons cries, "How? It is the most powerful relic We have left... Why will it not obey Me?!"

You see Maylea, Bloom of Serenity shout, "Perhaps You might have asked that before You stole it!"

Tau glances expectantly at Maylea.

Elarin tilts his head curiously.

You see Nocht, the Silent shout, "It requires more power than You have alone, My Cousin. Join Me, and perhaps We can work on that together."

Synl digs roots deep and stretches branches wide, bracing himself as he attempts to shield the Shards below from the Divine storm above.

Evette flutters her wings, perching herself on a inner branch of Synl.

A bloodcurdling hiss emanates throughout the Basin of Life as the scarred Goddess retreats with the Eye of Dynara in Her grip, frothing with indignation and anger.

Upon a wave of wind bitter as the salted seas, the striking voice of Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons cries, "No more of Your lies! I will find a way without You. Any of You..."

Moody, turbulent waters darken the firmament with murky waves as Li-varili, Lady of the Lagoons vanishes from perception.

You crease your brow in a frown.

Whirling upon Nocht, Maylea cries to Nocht. "You wish to work with Her, after all that! After You..." She pushes Nocht, causing colours to swirl along His form. "Get out! You and Yours! All of you! Go!"

Nocht, the Silent turns to regard Maylea. No hint of His feelings visible upon Him or in His tone of voice as He whispers, "You should have never tried this, Maylea... I regret nothing." The Silent Lord turns to the mortals of the Glomdoring still gathered. "Let Us return to our home, My little ones."

[zoom zoom back to the MR]

Gael stares fixedly at the Master Ravenwood Tree for several moments before muttering bitterly, "Should have known from the Nereids...should never have trusted Li-varili to offer any aide..."

Deep in thought, Tau leans her cheek on her hand.

A large shadow flits across the edge of your vision for a bare instant, vanishing between the trees.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "I trust in a deeper plan."

The shadows stir, twisting together to form into Nocht, the Silent.

Evette curtseys gracefully.

Turning to those gathered, Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Consider His demeanor - Ah, hello Lord."

Utterly silent, Illyria watches Nocht appear, gracefully curtseying and then remaining down on the cracked earth.

In answer to an unspoken question, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "In case the poison was used against Me or another Elder that I did not intend. The poison could cripple even Us."

Evette purses her lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as she carefully gathers her thoughts.

You have emoted: Esei turns to Nocht, bowing lowly.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "You did well, My little ones... Even though I imagine this may not feel like a victory."

Illyria's face is enigmatic, blank of emotion, but serene nonetheless as she listens.

Gael simply nods his head, stepping slowly over to Illyria to place a bloodied palm against her shoulder.

You nod solemnly.

Tau tilts her head back and looks up at the sky.

Illyria lifts an equally bloody hand and lays it atop Gael's.

Still on the ground in the extended curtsey, Illyria watches Nocht in silence.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "You may attempt it if you wish, but I think Her mind still far too broken at the moment."

Tau tilts her head curiously.

Nocht tilts His head, looking off towards the north. "I would have pressed further to try and grab the Eye then and there, but..." He trails off. "Did you sense it, My little ones? That force that resonated with the Serenwilde?"

Comprehension flashes across Tau's face.

You nod solemnly.

Illyria nods silently.

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "I did. A light that emerged from the sprout."

Evette nods her head silently.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "It was far deeper than that sprout and so ancient. For a moment, I thought I sensed..."

The sound of wings flapping heralds a screeching murder of crows flying overhead.

Tau tilts her head and listens intently.

You furrow your brow in thought.

Nocht trails off as His gaze remains fixed on some far off point to the north.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Maylea keeping the Eye could not be tolerated another moment, My little ones. Even if it is not with us, it is at least no longer with Her."

Tau nods her head affirmatively.

The wind whistles eerily through the branches overhead.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I know not what Li-varili may attempt with it, but I do not believe She will focus on harming or... altering us as the Bloom of Serenity may have."

You furrow your brow in thought.

Gael offers a small nod, though the hard expression on his face does little to soften.

You whisper, "...altering, my Lord?"

Illyria exhales softly, dipping her chin slightly in understanding, her hand lingering on Gael's as she kneels.

Nodding at Esei, Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "What was she doing?"

The sharp sound of a twig snapping echoes behind you.

Nocht offers a soft "Hmm.." in response. "Do not wander too close while She walks the First World, My little ones. But we must learn exactly what Maylea has awakened. I sense it will be a threat to the Wyrd."

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "Awakened?"

Aphid Tau, the Twilit says, "A turn of phrase. Surely You don't mean, 'Awakened.'"

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I think She only meant to build a homeland for Her favored shards, but still it almost felt..."

Deep in thought, Tau leans her cheek on her hand.

You have emoted: Esei clasps their hands behind their back, tilting their head.

Dark light flickers in Evette's eyes as shadows dance at her feet, rising up as if to briefly shroud her from the world.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "We shall see. Rest and restore yourselves, My little ones. Know that the Wyrd has seen just how ferociously you fought for it. Be well."

The surrounding shadows wane, relaxing into their normal state as the form of Nocht, the Silent dissolves into the aether.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

Tau nods after the shadows.

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Pub: 20 Jun 2021 21:26 UTC
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