Out of Character General Chat

Ambient Music

The Corpse fixed Hrafe with its one eye. The brilliance of the eye could not be described, outside the very real feeling of disintegration that it pelted Hrafe with, in an instant it extinguished the petty insignificant consciousness that called itself Hrafe. What remained cackled in absolute bliss at the release. It could hear in the silence the sounds of lights inexorable conquest. The harmony of Unity had intensified, deepened, it had become more full. It sang so artfully describing what must come to pass. Assuring him his role to come, absolute dominion and authority was his. All that must be done, the death of the Ego, permanently.

Another came, Old One Eye, it placed a chessboard and waving its hand set the board. The white pieces had been set on the board. But Canny The Rising Serpent espied treachery. "I know that trick wanderer. This match is mine." It hissed triumphantly at the greybeard's eyeless socket. The board reset and immediately the serpent attacked with a queen's opening.

In the temple, Hrafe's possession brought him to ecstatic laughter as the flesh rejoiced at the divine communion occurring within it as the vessel. Though the laughter came in three distinct voices, and sounded far more bestial than human. It was on its knees holding within its palms the sacred light. Its laughter was occassionally interrupted by it speaking in tongues.

Old One Eye and Hrafe stood upon the precipice. One of the Raven's of the aged wanderer leapt down and dove into something in the mists below. It cawed up as if mocking Hrafe's courage. But he knew what must be done and fell from the cliff's edge.

He landed immediately as if taking a step down a winding path that twisted, it was a bog, and around Hrafe were statues of himself, twisted in horrific agony. He also saw the Grey Wanderer, making swift ahead of him. "You must move with a steady beat, or you will be lead astray. You must keep to your feet if you want to walk this way." He said to the Rising Serpent. It followed as best it could. Seeing the statues had been turned to stone by what they had seen it focused solely on its stride.

The path ended, upon a windswept hill, upon which an enormous ash shifted in the wind. With blood red leaves, that smelled of incense. The tree was covered in bodies, impaled to it with spears. Each body, alive, entranced, each one of the bodies was Hrafe. The Rising Serpent watched its alter-ego for many days. All but one died. Hoisting itself off its spear it looked up at itself, and began The Knowing. Just then, a second sun rose and melted all illusions.

The bell rang one peal, rousing the serpent from its slumber. Hrafe growled in furious rage as he flooded into the empty spaces, breaking through the interstice between the living realm, and the next. Frenzied eyes locked on the vestige of the light deep within him. Three distinct voices rose from the bowels of the warrior who struggled to carry on the ecstasy of his trance.

A second ring of the bell caused Hrafe to overcome the serpent, a guttural sound emanated from the bowels of the warrior, three distinct voices rose with it. "You have interrupted the sacred." Ritual ablutions, the psychoactive ingredients left the savage Hrafe to stare, eyes rolled in the back of his head. They stared emptily at the interloper. Involuntary spasm, and Hrafe lifted his hands in supplication to an invisible power. A sole shaft of light clasped between his palms. The ecstasy of the light caused an involuntary growl to raise again from his bowels. "Flee this place or you will be made sacrifice. The Beast, it is within me." The third peal roused him fully and immediately he felt her Overwhelming Peace crush all vestiges of peace. Her Holiness arrested his dreams and brought him fully to alertness.

A soft hand placed upon his brow brought immediate peace and clarity to the holy warrior. Pressing his forehead to the palm a warm smile stretched across his face. "Oh, your Eminence, how may your sword serve?"

With a whispered word Hrafe bowed his head in supplication. "I had the same dream. The Hanged God came to me, piercing my abdomen with his spear he made me a sacrifice unto myself. And as I died upon his spear I listened to him. He bid that I lend my sword to the archmage. But if it is your will, I will stay by your side. Basking in your magnificent light."

She whispered again bringing a gasp from Hrafe. "Your will be done your Magnificence." Standing unsteadily Hrafe bowed. "I will avail myself to The Archmage. In your most holy name." Hrafe kissed the Priestess' fingers. Lifting his veil he looked upon her with a smile. Bowing he departed and made to his chambers where he collected his sword, shield, and trappings.

A long journey, alone and on foot brought him to the tower. Resting in the preday glow, Hrafe marked his face with the rune of the day. Ochre and Black hallucinogenic paints. A sacred prayer to the sun as it rose. As he came from his prayers the forms of several others silohuettes in the distance. Hrafe beckoned raising a pewter cup of water. He was.jut starting to fry a pork belly. "It is Divine timing, that we should all meet here, and now. On this auspicious day. Why, it is the Blue Moon tonight, and here we are on the way to see The Archmage."