Glory Days
23528
THREADID
16
POSTS
11 - 16
DISPLAYED
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Dale nodded at the words of his Alpha and Ritemaster. "Yeah. If we wanted to cross over, it would be best at the mausoleum," said the Rahu, agreeing with Skaald on that. "But I'm fine with doing it right here." After all, the warehouse was the pack's den. It was his home, and there was no place like home to get this sort of thing done.
"I'm ready when you are," he said to the Ritemaster with a nod.
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Skaald nods, content to perform the rite here, in their den. While doing so in the Hisil holds some fascination to him and seems especially appropriate for Glory, the Den was theirs. Here was where they celebrated their glories and learned from their failures. This was just as appropriate, or perhaps more so.
He gestures for Dale to take a seat and to present the area he wanted for the brand. As he does so he shifts from Hishu into Dalu, the favored form of the ritualist. The transition goes remarkably smoothly and before even he is aware of it, the skin of the primal man encases his Essence. Skaald smiles to himself. That was a good omen for things to come.
He walks through the kitchen, perhaps a bit more cautious than his normal trundle. Partly this is meditative on his part, beginning to focus his energies to the task at hand, and partly out of awareness of the inherit size of the new form. It wasn't a clumsy form at all, but the extra size could be noticeable at times. Skaald takes his time washing his hands. He lets the water run for a time then places each hand in turn under the flowing water. He doesn't use soap as it might contaminate the process, but washes in the pure water as a wolf might do. He wished he could have untreated spring water for this, and makes a note to see what keeping some on hand would cost, but the tap water will do for his purposes. He shuts off the water and shakes the excess from his hair-covered forearms and hands, letting them dry a bit before proceeding.
Approaching Splitter he ponders for a moment before beginning. Splitter was deserving of a full accounting, but the account should also fit his packmate. Splitter was blunt, to the point. But the Cahalith's soul in Skaald would not allow him to simply state the events at face value. He felt that the rite and the words deserved at least an echo of the Glory they conveyed. He eventually decides on a terse verse. It would be difficult, but it fit his packmate well. He begins, tracing patterns on flesh with claw as he does so.
<<Moonborn muses,
Ye choir of Glory!
Cahalunim,
Attend these stories!
Mother above,
O sky-fixed sentry!
Lady of night,
We thus implore thee.
Not once but twice
He has not wavered
This oath-bound son
Deserves thy favor.
So, listen, all!
The tales begin!>>
Skaald smiles as he breaks the carefully maintained rhyme scheme for the last two lines of the opening, itself a sort of rebellion against a traditional sonnet structure. That fit his packmate very well to his mind. His tracing begins to become more urgent as he launches into the first accounting. The pattern itself is deceptively simple for the degree of Renown sought.
<<The first a tale
Of justly fought greed,
Of shadows sought
To prevent the seed.
For from the dark
This foe did arise,
And with clenched fist
Would terrorize.
Into the heart,
Of the den of Greed
This brave warrior,
His pack did proceed.
In den of Vice,
The first foe was met,
And raised his voice,
Avarice intent.
The battle lost,
Though influence waned,
Chaos most foul,
Pack unity profaned.
But, lo, the claws!
The ravager strikes!
And leads the pack
In redoubled fight!
The battle turns,
The price inflates,
Usurer’s Greed
Thus discorporates!>>
Skaald brings the first half to a close and transitions.
<<The foe is felled,
And the tale is told
One more remains,
But from darker mold.>>
As he speaks the bridging stanza he changes the pattern. He begins tracing a second, simple pattern of Glory over the first.
<<Upon the Tur
One Gibbous lit night,
This sacred ground
Was thrust into plight.
A lonely pup,
Wounded and alone,
For safety's sake
stumbled to our home.
He howled for help,
“The enemy draws nigh!”
Through rain and wind
The people heard cry.
In answer thus,
The defenders did run.
Among their ranks,
The twice-blesséd son.
The pup spoke true:
Through Shadow's quagmire
The hunters came,
With weapons most dire.
From shadows spring
With claw and with fang
Upon the foe,
Then piercing shots sang.
Oh, mother above!
How thy justice burns!
Moon-wrought fury
Upon your child turned.
Thy wrath is fair,
And thy mercy true,
But t'was the herd,
This foul weapon threw.
Through pain and strife
Thy child did endure.
To slay the foe,
He would not deter.
When all were felled
And safety was thought.
His vigil-eye
Still for danger sought.
Upon the wrist,
The foe's demon-eye,
He saw our doom
And let forth a cry.
The final trick
An unholy pyre
And from the flames,
Exodus inspired.
Not one was lost,
Though many anguished,
And all the foes,
Themselves were punished.>>
Each pattern tells its own story, but together they form a much more complex brand, synergizing with each other in a fashion similar to the deceptively complex knot work found in many celtic and norse designs. It seems fitting to him. Splitters glory was less of one single event and more the constant adherence to the ideal, each simpler act of Glory twining with the others to form a braid that inspires and awes.
<<Thus you have heard
Oh glory-seekers,
And so dost thou,
Nocturnal keeper.
Purity born
And glory chosen
Bless now his deeds
And let flesh bear token.>>
The rite winds to a close, simple and to the point, in honor of Spliiter's own attitudes. Skaald had had his moment to advocate for his friend and packmate. The ending should appeal more directly to his demeanor and nature.
6 minutes
I took the liberty of making a few assumptions for the roll. First, I assumed we would be doing this on a Gibbous Moon, as such a moon is most appropriate to seeking recognition of Glory. Secondly, I assumed a +1 from friendly local spirits. I know we haven't defined it yet, but we do have a guardian spirit at the den, so I assumed it would keep out any nay-sayers. If I need to roll more, let me know.
It's not a Gibbous Moon - the moon is posted in Dale's first post, and it's Crescent I'm afraid.. Consequently, you need to roll for an additional 2 successes
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Whoops, missed that, but it makes up for itself....6 more successes makes 19 after 7 minutes, just short of the 5 over effect.....
As Skaald entreats the Cahalunim in poetry, Dale feels something seize him, not physically, but at the point where his flesh melds to the spirit. He is dragged inside himself, his eyes glazing over and his body falling into locked, rigid silence.
For a moment, everything around him is black, and he hears the winds rushing towards him. Slowly, light blinks in the darkness, pinpoints of distant stars that give him just enough to see by. The Rahu is stood on dry sand, which seems to stretch out beyond infinity. He can feel a faint breeze, and nothing else. Just silence, and dust.
A voice seems to come from behind him, though if he turns, there is nothing there.
<<What remains, son of Luna?>>
Digger watched as the ritual is performed, listening to his brother sing to the glories of Dale. Digger is impressed on all kinds of levels.
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