A Stirring in Mother Night's Realm - the Arrival of Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows

Rancoura · January 2017

Months of work led to this, and I cannot thank @Salome enough for being my lovely partner in shadowy crime, as well as @Manteekan and @Nocht, who put in a lot of time and effort to make this possible. (Seriously, you Godmin are amazing and Lusternia is lucky to have all of you dedicating your time and talents to it.)

Preceding this, the Glomdoring was plagued with visions and strangely-behaving shadows and odd occurrences, such as these:

Thump. Thump. Thump. You rub your head as it continues to throb, yet it doesn't

stop. The air begins to vibrate about you. It is not your head thumping, but the

air. It shakes in bursts, as if being hammered on by an invisible hand. You spin

around, and the shadows seem to mimic the steady pulsing, swelling and receding

with each rhythmic beat.

A warm wind blows through the forests, nearly knocking you from your feet. You

lunge forward to catch yourself, yet the shadow beneath you remains still. As

your foot lands where its head would be, it shifts out of the way, barely

missing your step. The ground begins to rumble as it hesitantly shifts back into

place, and you blink in astonishment, unsure of how to react.

Darkness consumes you as you find yourself by Night's side. She looks down upon

you, and you fill with an overwhelming pride. You chase after her as she

continues her journey, guiding you through the darkness as you seek out another

to aide.

You nearly lose your footing as the ground seems to give way beneath you. You

catch yourself before you fall, but realize it was not the ground that moved at

all, but the shadow beneath your feet. As you regain your composure, you realize

that your shadow has split in two, mirrored on either side of your body. You

blink. The loud caw of a crow rings out and you look to the sky briefly, only to

look down once more to see your shadow alone.

All about you darkens as the shadows of the trees begin to grow, stretching

towards you hungrily. You shift about, avoiding their touch, but they continue

to spread, leaving you but standing room as you find yourself encircled

completely. A boom resonates through the sky just as they inch over your feet,

the shadows quickly receding back into the treeline as if startled by the sound.

THE RITUAL
----------

Edited to remove some unrelated detours, etc. This is going to be a long one.

--------------------------------------

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "The Queen of Night and myself shall be holding a

ritual invocation to reveal what has been sweeping through the Wyrd and shadows

of Mother Night in about half a day. The more that attend, the more likely we

shall be able to part the shadow obscura."

The ground beneath you cracks as the forest erupts with life, vines intertwined

with shadow writhing and flailing as they snake through the forest. All about

you is a frenzy as the darkness begins to tug at all it touches, flinging even

the crows to the earth beneath them.

Rowena Nightshade yells, "We see you! That which seeks to harm the Wyrd seeks to

harm all of us! And you shall pay!"

As darkness watches over the writhing of the Wyrden wood, you sense a presence

lurking, watching you. You are not afraid. You are comforted by the one who

watches. With a sudden blast, a beacon of dark light pierces the treetops,

shining from deep within the chasm that sits at the forest's centre, stretching

high above to meet with Mother Night Herself.

[travelling, etc]

Southern edge of chasm.

The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. There is a very

light rain shower.

You see exits leading east, southeast, and southwest.

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land

in utter darkness.

It is now the 8th of Estar, 465 years after the Coming of Estarra.

You have emoted: Rancoura pauses, gazing down into the impenetrable darkness of

the chasm that yawns below.

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "The vision of the chasm. Prophetic in itself

that what is down there remains unseen."

Waves of energy pulsate through the Wyrden wood, pushing back against the plant-

life that seeks to ensnare it. The crows take to the sky once more, circling the

dark beacon as they cry out to the dark sky above.

You have emoted: Rancoura's wings extend, their otherworldly presence casting an

aura of adumbration at her flanks. With a powerful sweep that trails disembodied

whispers in its wake, they lift her into the air, her graceful form drifting out

a ways above the chasm.

You see the following people here:

Niico, Salome, Lysistrata, Rancoura.

Just over the edge of the chasm, the dark energy thrums, pulsating from deep

within the darkness below.

You have emoted: Gazing down into the void below, Rancoura suddenly recoils, as

if she had seen some mirage within the darkness that bodes not well. Swiftly,

she returns to the edge of the chasm, alighting upon the ground amongst you.

You scent at the air, your skilled nose picking up the faint traces of others in

the surrounding area.

Xenthos: 1337 before the Master Ravenwood Tree

Tyamit: 7718 north of the roots

Lysistrata: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Niico: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Salome: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Ssaliss: 1337 before the Master Ravenwood Tree

***********************[ THE FREE FOREST OF GLOMDORING ]***********************

Commune Member Rank Position CT

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Niico shadowdancer Shadow Warden Commune Aide On

Lysistrata shadowdancer(h) Shadow Warden Commune Aide On

Tyamit ebonguard Dark Woodsman On

Salome shadowdancer(h) Shadow Warden Librarian On

Ssaliss shadowdancer(h) Shadow Warden On

Xenthos ebonguard Guardian of the Dark For Shadow Court On

Rancourashadowdancer(h) Guardian of the Dark For Shadow Court On

*******************************************************************************

2 ebonguards and 5 shadowdancers present, of those 4 are demigods/ascendants.

Currently, there are 7 Commune Members on this Plane and 5 on other Planes.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Glomdoring, come. The Night is with us, as this threat

manifests itself. Come, and lend the Night Coven your strength."

You feel the ground begin to shake as a black mass climbs up the chasm's edge,

leaping toward the gathered crowd violently.

Rising slowly, shaking slightly as he does, Niico turns to look at you with a

determined half-smile set on his face. Taking a step closer to his sister, he

raises his athame and says, "The shadows dance at our call, lady Queen. You need

only direct us, and our Dynasty shall bare its full strength to quell this

threat."

A violent shadow forms an umbral blade with one of his limbs and slashes at you

visciously.

[killing the shadow, etc]

Salome picks up the corpse of a violent shadow.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Come. Swiftly. To the chasm."

Salome cradles the violent shadow against her breast, the essence itself seeping

into her flesh.

(Glomdoring): You say, "The southern edge."

[waiting for people]

You have emoted: Rancoura looses a long, fluid breath as she looks to Salome,

the gaping darkness of the chasm below rising with each passing moment.

You scent at the air, your skilled nose picking up the faint traces of others in

the surrounding area.

Tyamit: 7718 north of the roots

Tarken: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Lysistrata: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Salome: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Indoril: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Xenthos: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Niico: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Versalean: 9391 before a great ravenwood

Iorwen: 7741, 7742, 7743, ...Deep Underground

Ssaliss: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Veyils: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Salome glides forward, her dark eyes shuttering closed as she offers her slender

hand to you.

Quietly, grasping the Princess' slender hand, you whisper to Salome, "We must

begin."

You see the following people here:

Tarken, Xenthos, Indoril, Lysistrata, Veyils, Niico, Versalean, Ssaliss, Salome,

Rancoura.

Dipping her hand into a shadow cauldron, Salome pulls out a long shadow and

releases it into the air. The room darkens with the churning darkness.

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

You have emoted: Rancoura nods, and releases Salome's hand, moving several paces

towards the edge of the gaping rift in the Glomdoring's midst.

Hollowly, her head bowed, you whisper, "Witness."

You see the following people here:

Xenthos, Indoril, Salome, Lysistrata, Versalean, Niico, Veyils, Tarken, Ssaliss,

Rancoura.

You have emoted: Rancoura turns her gaze to Salome, sharing with her a long,

silent communion, the two daughters of Night standing opposite the other. With a

nod, the Queen at last steps forth, drawing from the inner folds of her shadow-

spun robes a long, crystalline black athame. Likewise, Salome draws her supine

blade, and both drift three paces apart, turning in tandem to the other.

The sky lightens and stars fade as Father Sun approaches the horizon in his

neverending quest to capture Mother Night.

Salome raises her athame towards you, who mirrors the movement. "Che'lei ta mua,

deomari la'hania na morint, diuin ke'ra tah'vrai," she speaks to the heavens as

the Princess lifts her gaze to the darkened skies.

You have emoted: Gaze lifting as well to the spreading eventide, Rancoura

hollowly whispers, "Trath'ona." As though of one mind, both she and Salome lower

the points of their athames to the ground, and begin to walk, marking a

circumference in the loam. Completing the circle, the two daughters carve seven

lines, manifesting the sharp form of a seven-pointed star within the curves.

The hands on a shadowed watch of the seven shrouds read five o'clock in the

morning.

The phase of the moon is the Waning Gibbous.

In your world, it is 2017/01/22 20:18:12 GMT and 2017/01/22 16:18:12 in your

configured timezone.

See HELP GMT for an explanation of GMT.

Retrieving them from a silken satchet nestled in the roots of a nearby tree,

Salome places seven candles at each of the ritualistic septagram's points.

Meanwhile, Rancoura bears forth an antiquated, iron-wrought basin, its herbal

contents smelling of pine needles, crushed sage and myrrh. This does Rancoura

place at the centre of the ritual circle, pressing the basin's clawed feet into

the ground.

The sky above the Glomdoring begins to darken, though the sun brings dawn to the

Basin of Life.

You have emoted: Nodding slightly, the daughters take their place in the centre

of the septagram, facing one another, Rancoura offering her hands to Salome, who

grasps them with her own. A hush falls over the forest, the Glomdoring itself

heralding the sacred act before it is initiated.

In unison with Salome, you whisper, "Dir'it Trithai dae na, varda Trath'ona,

ancador'chad, mahke'ra cel'menela."

Low and chiming, Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Daughters be we both, of the

Great Mother yon high, a-seat Her lofty throne, the eternal sombre sky."

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Ek'sath dae na, ai udsain mirata: dae na kyerme

ome, lva enon."

Breathlessly, her words echoed as a long-forgotten memory, you whisper,

"Together are we now, nary far apart; this we both avow, to ever do our part."

You have emoted: The last words upon Rancoura's chant emitted, a strange

compulsion takes them both as a soft sigh passes from sweet lips both; the

darkness itself sighing, currents of soft, cool energy pass through the

awareness of those present.

As they turn their beautiful visages to the shadows, at once they appear as

twins - the same likeness, their skin as pale as a twilight sky, their eyes as

cold and dark as coals, unnervingly shifting in sync as Salome gently moves and

twines their long, slender fingers closer together as they begin to trace the

septagrams points in the air. The candles slowly burst to life in shadowfire as

each point is directed, at first blaring and illuminating the chasm below before

their glacial flames waver with the empty, calling wind.

You have emoted: Releasing each other, the daughters turn their backs, raising

their hands to the skies, beseeching; and a heavy darkness descends upon them,

centred upon the ritual circle, bringing with it a breathless beauty as the air

is stolen from Rancoura and Salome's lips in a sigh. Lighting their darkened

countenances with a pale blue illumination, a burst of shadowflame lights the

herb-filled basin at their feet; a heady, pungent smoke spews forth from its

burning contents, filing the air with its tantalizing spice.

Taking several, trance-like paces from Rancoura, Salome's steps are graceful,

careful, and paced. Pausing at the edge of the septagram, she turns her gaze,

unseeing and hollow, to the east, her lips moving obediently as she whispers

hoarsely, "I call upon thee, Queen of Slaugh, guide your daughters in wisdom

well. Part the shadows where we cannot see, where the Sacred Mother meets

eternity -- for our eyes are only four; open the third and thinning door, where

unseen roam beyond the veil."

A brilliant purple light suffuses the forest as the visage of the Queen of the

Slaugh appears high overhead, gazing towards the heavens as she calls upon the

guidance of Mother Night. The forest begins to rumble and the shadows quiver as

darkness slowly consumes the lavender glow, and Lhiannan tosses her head back as

a stream of power begins to pierce the sky above.

You have emoted: A faint rustling trails in Rancoura's wake as she drifts to the

opposite side of the circle, her movements that of one in a reverie, eyes

unseeing as her partner's, black as the moonless eventide. Halting at the

circle's threshold, her gaze turns to the south, her whisper resounding, "I call

upon thee, Dark-Hound, split the air with your baying sound. Tear asunder in

your jaws, those who would dissuade our cause -- for our flesh is now but one;

as sisters two, your guardianship begun, as our circle invokes all and none."

The call of the Dog of Darkness rings out as his visage takes its place beside

Lhiannan above the Wyrden wood. He turns his dark gaze to the Glomdoring, his

maw dripping with a black, shadowy essence, and he howls, his cry met by the

cacophonous barks of the barghests that call the forest home. Tossing his head

back, a blast of energy washes over the Glomdoring, and the trees begin to shake

and rustle as a tendril of darkness descends from the sky above.

Her form beginning to move in a swaying, hypnotic dance, Salome begins to step

clockwise around the circle's border, Rancoura simultaneously following opposite.

A stirring in the shadows greets the daughters' dance, piqued as Salome

approaches the westernmost point of the star. Pausing, her gaze shifts to the

south as her lips form the words, "I call upon thee, Redcap-King, wrath forsake

not in the dark thy making. Part the way, protect the septal path; we beseech in

this calling craft -- for our blades are only two, and cannot slice all through

and through, where unseen roam beyond the veil."

The manic laughter of the King of the Redcaps peals across the sky as he takes

his place beside the Dog of Darkness, closing off the triangle that the trio

forms high above. He glances between both Lhiannan and Gwyllgi as droplets of

crimson rain down upon the forest from his massive claws. As each droplet hits

the treetops, it fills the air with a red haze and is caught by a warm wind that

shakes the brush about you. With a final cry, Glumki turns his head to the sky,

and the tendril of darkness continues to grow, stretching to the forest beneath

it.

The shadows slowly start to dissipate.

Dipping his hand into a shadow cauldron, Xenthos pulls out a long shadow and

releases it into the air. The room darkens with the churning darkness.

You have emoted: The invocation echoed as a revisiting memory, the echoes of the

Three Avatars of Night drifting through the forest Rancoura and Salome resume

their dance across from each other, each turning around the ritual circle, their

movements mirrored, harmonious, ethereal. Shadows spin from the gracefully

fluttering tips of their fingers, each aphotic thread woven with intricacy and

finesse, imbued with need as they voraciously find other strands, melding upon

contact in patterns akin to seamless, adumbrated webs.

Halting their journey once more, Rancoura turns her gaze north from the southern

curve of the circle, Salome at the northern. Their melodic words melded as one,

they both whisper, "I call upon thee, Sacred Mother, reveal to us that which we

call." Upon the tail of their words, a sudden gust of dark wind bursts forth

from the chasm, a soundless scream as the gale sweeps over the ritual circle,

tearing and the webs of darkness spun. The daughters gasp, heads thrown back,

eyes ablaze with frozen pools of darkness.

You have emoted: Drawing together in the midst of the fae star, urgently, they

reach for the other, the tips of their fingers meeting, a dark halo enshrouding

their amorous touch. "Trathona," Salome and Rancoura breathe; and at once they

slam their hands to the ground, rippling the adumbral web before it, too, is

slammed into the wyrden loam.

All goes still as the darkness above begins to shift, forming not tendril, but

hand, and the visage of Mother Night smiles down upon the Glomdoring. With a

gentle touch, She places a finger to the ground, and the floor begins to rock

and shake. A resounding boom rocks the Wyrden forest as Night and Her Avatars

smile down upon you.

You feel the ground begin to split beneath you as the sound of grinding earth

echoes through the forest. Suddenly there's a crash, and Mother Night retracts

Her touch, taking with it the Her visage and those of Her Trinity.

Nearly losing your footing, the ground beneath you crumbles, and the earth gives

way to the chasm to the north. Stone and brush clacks against the side of the

crevasse as it fragments, giving way to a sloped descent that leads down the

side of the ravine.

Xenthos purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully

gathers his thoughts.

Xenthos, riding Ilistala, an enormous leopard, leaves to the down, emanating an

aura of immense power.

Ilistala melds into the shadows, quickly disappearing from view.

[travelling]

Amidst bones and rubble.

There is a very light rain shower. Root and vine have overcome this strange

hollow carved into the chasm's side, growing over the oddly smooth walls with

ease. Beneath these dangling appendages, the space opens up to a musty chamber

filled with a murky haze of dust and decay. Bones border the entirety of the

room, the remains tossed up against the wall still maintaining some semblance to

the long, elegant beings they once inhabited. All light is absorbed by a massive,

inky orb that sits here atop a pedestal of thistle and vine.

You see a single exit leading northeast.

ih

"orb179596" the Umbral Prison

Number of objects: 1

(Glomdoring): You say, "The orb. It is here."

Shadowbound Niico asks Salome, "Sister...where are we?"

Piercing your mind, a soft, sultry voice whispers to you, "You need not be

afraid. Place a hand upon my prison. Help me be free."

Niico blinks.

You purse your lips, deep in thought.

With a wistful look on his face, Niico touches the Umbral Prison.

Veyils Ysav'rai says, "A Prison."

With a wistful look on her face, Salome touches the Umbral Prison.

With a wistful look on his face, Indoril touches the Umbral Prison.

You whisper, "Whom speaks?"

You see the following people here:

Zilias, Xenthos, Niico, Salome, Lysistrata, Veyils, Indoril, Ssaliss, Rancoura.

p orb

An ancient pedestal woven of vine and thistle sits at the centre of the room,

sprouting from the ground as if grown from the very earth here. Atop the

platform sits a massive orb, formed of an inky blackness which swirls violently.

Dark voices emanate from within the orb, though their words are unformed, which

echo throughout the chamber. All light is absorbed about the edifice, feeding it

as it continues to turn and churn atop the pedestal.

It weighs about 121 pounds.

The Umbral Prison is holding:

Nothing.

It has the following aliases: orb.

With a wistful look on his face, Xenthos touches the Umbral Prison.

With a wistful look on her face, Veyils touches the Umbral Prison.

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

"I have been sent by Mother Night, you need not worry about who I am, but that I

am here to help," it intones.

With a wistful look on her face, Salome touches the Umbral Prison.

You reach out and touch the Umbral Prison.

A smooth, seductive voice whispers into your mind, "Bring me the shadows that

have escaped this prison."

You purse your lips, deep in thought.

Tarken ponders the situation.

(Glomdoring): You say, "Gather the violent shadows throughout the forest. Bring

them to us."

Lysistrata nods her head emphatically.

Salome puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

You scent at the air, your skilled nose picking up the faint traces of others in

the surrounding area.

Tyamit: 1324 water's edge

Salome: ? amidst bones and rubble

Lysistrata: 1259 southern edge of chasm

Versalean: ? amidst bones and rubble

Veyils: ? amidst bones and rubble

Niico: ? amidst bones and rubble

Ssaliss: ? amidst bones and rubble

Indoril: 1330 behind the Black Tower

Zilias: 1926, 1351, 12393broken ground

Tarken: 1324 water's edge

Xenthos: 1344 tenebrous way

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "I have given thee a shadow, One-who-Speaks."

Xenthos puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

Zilias puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

Whispering, the voice continues, "Bind them within this prison as they have done

me for so long!"

Ssaliss ponders the situation.

Shadowbound Niico asks, "Who have the shadows been binding, sister-Princess? Did

you feel anything when you and the Queen danced?"

Shadowbound Niico asks you, "Or you, my Queen?"

You whisper, "We have felt a presence for quite a long time within the realm of

the Night."

You whisper, "One that... was unfamiliar."

Xenthos purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully

gathers his thoughts.

You whisper, "A spirit, of sorts, though it grew more veiled the further we

attempted to delve."

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "We only felt the great rumble beneath our feet

before this Crafting. But this is a presence the Queen and I have sensed lurking

beyond, rolling and struggling from freedom."

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Is the orb supposed

to be absorbing the shadows, or just holding them?"

Indoril gives the corpse of a violent shadow to you.

You incline your head politely to Indoril.

The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

You put the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

Xenthos takes the corpse of a violent shadow from the Umbral Prison.

Xenthos puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Ah hah, now it is

absorbing them."

The corpse of a violent shadow is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

Spirit Warden Xenthos An'Ryshe, the Ebon Strategist says, "Will look for more,

then."

A sultry laughter escapes from the orb as it begins to thrum with power.

Zilias puts the corpse of a violent shadow into the Umbral Prison.

With calm and comforting words, an enchanting voice whispers into your mind, "I

can see to it that these shades do you no more harm, if you will free me from

this prison. I simply must regain my strength. Bring me shadowy essence so that

I can break free!"

Veyils Ysav'rai says, "Ah."

Comprehension flashes across Tarken's face.

(Glomdoring): You say, "The presence requires shadowy essence now, as well."

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "We must now retrieve shadow essence, Wyrd."

Shadowbound Niico says, "Now we require essence of shadow, from the ethereal

Glomdoring."

(Glomdoring): Xenthos says, "Ah."

(Glomdoring): Versalean says, "How many?"

(Glomdoring): You say, "As much as we can muster."

Addressing the prison directly, Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "How can we be

sure of thy loyalty?"

Indoril looks on with silent interest of the inky orb..

As you gaze into the dark, empty orb, you see not your reflection, but a face

not unlike your own. It stares back at you, unblinking, as others soon join

behind it. She mouths words, but they remain unspoken, and as her mouth still,

she smiles back at you.

You have emoted: Rancoura glances at Salome, a note of wary intrigue upon her

countenance.

Indoril looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Shadowbound Niico says to Salome, "Mother would not offer us this solution if it

were not something that we could trust, sister. Let us have faith in the power

you and our Queen have wrought."

The darkness about you ripples as the voice speaks, "Night has entrusted me with

this task, much as she hast entrusted you with your own. I have naught but that

to assure you."

You have emoted: Approaching the orb, Rancoura drifts around it in a circle,

gaze never leaving its hazy surface. Whispers trail in her wake, eerily

coinciding with the soundless faces held beneath the orb's surface.

Salome is compulsed to draw closer to the prison, her slender fingers gently

caressing the glossy surface. "It is as it is, forgive my caution, it is my

nature, our nature." She whispers underneath his words, the sound barely audible.

Addressing the gathered Coven, you whisper, "Our Mother was with us, whilst we

danced. Her confidence in our task was sure; all of us felt it."

You whisper, "This is the result of this endeavour."

Xenthos puts a bit of shadowy essence into the Umbral Prison.

A bit of shadowy essence is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

(repeat x 30+)

Indoril slowly lifts a hand as if to slowly reach for the orb, as his pale-green

eyes begin to shimmer. Shadows that form around his hand draws his curios reach

back, and suddenly disrupted by commotion..

A bit of shadowy essence is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

The Umbral Prison begins to swell as it fills with power and a soft voice calls

out from within, "We are halfway there, but we need more! Be swift!"

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "We are at the halfway point of freedom."

(Glomdoring): Niico says, "We are roughly halfway there. Continue your fine work.

"

A warm wind blows through the forests, nearly knocking you from your feet. You

lunge forward to catch yourself, yet the shadow beneath you remains still. As

your foot lands where its head would be, it shifts out of the way, barely

missing your step. The ground begins to rumble as it hesitantly shifts back into

place, and you blink in astonishment, unsure of how to react.

Darkness consumes you as you find yourself by Night's side. She looks down upon

you, and you fill with an overwhelming pride. You chase after her as she

continues her journey, guiding you through the darkness as you seek out another

to aide.

[ much more essence ]

A bit of shadowy essence is absorbed into the Umbral Prison.

The Umbral Prison begins to swell as the room goes completely dark. All is

silent save for a soft, feminine voice which chants in tongues.

(Glomdoring): Veyils says, "I think that is it."

You are tossed back as the orb finally explodes, sending a wave of energy

throughout the Glomdoring which rocks the land violently. From within the Umbral

Prison, a beautiful, feminine figure struts forward, and the construct that once

held her dissolves away in a wave of shimmering darkness.

(Glomdoring): You say, "That is enough essence. Come."

(Glomdoring): Salome says, "Come. The voice is free."

Masked in shadow, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "My, how great it is to be

free once more. I thank you, Glomdoring, for your help."

Her dark, empty eyes glimmering, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "And those

shadows... they will be bothering you no more. They were guards for my prison,

and now that I am free, they have returned to Night's realm to be by Her side."

Crossing her legs as she stands in the centre of the chamber, Ciardha, of

Shackled Shadows says, "Mother Night has sent me, Her sister, to aide you. She

has sensed need of me in what is to come, and it is by Her will that I am bound

to you."

Salome raises a supine athame of rigored Haze up and makes a circle in the air.

A radiant torc forms from the ether and settles around her neck.

Shadowbound Niico asks, "What is to come, and how may we address you?"

Rancoura · January 2017

"ciardha26872" Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows

"ilistala171016" Ilistala, an enormous leopard

Number of objects: 2

p ciardha

Though masked by the shadows she swathes herself in, the korrigan is a creature

of extreme beauty. Tinged a silvery mauve, her skin is supple and smooth, marked

only by the dark inkings that decorate it. Her eyes are empty black orbs, each

glimmering behind lengthy lashes that tickle her brow, and she gazes out from

within the darkness with an almost lustful look spread over her perfectly

symmetrical face. Lengths of silky, ebon hair fall down her back, stopping just

above the knee, the occasional strand braided with a blackened vine and

carnivorous blossoms.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows is quite powerful.

She weighs about 100 pounds.

She has a slight resistance to poison damage.

She has a moderate resistance to excorable damage.

She has a moderate weakness to divinus damage.

You cannot see what Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows is holding.

It has the following aliases: ciardha, korrigan.

(Glomdoring): Veyils says, "Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, sister to Mother Night

she says."

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "I am not sure what trials we shall face, but

it is my duty to assist you... however may be needed."

Your shroud stirs, excited murmurs in your ear as a chill washes over you.

Veyils tilts her head and listens intently to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows.

You have emoted: Rancoura's head tilts suddenly, as though hearing something not

heard by all.

You see the following people here:

Tyamit, Xenthos, Versalean, Zilias, Indoril, Tarken, Veyils, Niico, Salome,

Ssaliss, Rancoura.

You reach out and touch a phantasmal shroud of shadows.

As your fingers brush against a phantasmal shroud of shadows a cacophony of

whispers fills your ears, murmuring of the past, the present and the future.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Sister Night sensed the shadows acting

against Her will, and She knew that you would have need of my... talents."

Salome slowly drifts back, the shadows around her form like the musk of ancient,

inky tendrils as they reach eagerly for Ciardha, of the Shackled Shadows. She

too pauses just as you, her eyes turning to you.

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "We give thanks,

Ciardha that we have granted your freedom in this time of chaos. For the Wyrd

requires guidance always, of every kind of talented shadow. But, what are your

talents?"

Studying the ground carefully with her feet, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says,

"Though She nor I have no sway over whatever rocks the Wyrden forest, we shall

do what we can to keep the shadows in their place."

The surrounding shadows convulse, grasping outwards in joyous anticipation as

Nocht, the Silent suddenly materializes from the aether.

You humbly drop one knee to the ground before Nocht, genuflecting reverently in

His presence.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

Salome humbly drops one knee to the ground before Nocht, genuflecting reverently

in His presence.

Ssaliss bows respectfully to Nocht.

Indoril bows respectfully to Nocht.

Breathlessly, bowed deep before Him, you whisper, "My Lord."

Veyils gives Nocht a respectful salute.

Niico kneels before Nocht, swearing his allegiance to Him.

Zilias bows respectfully to Nocht.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Her talents are many..."

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows bows gracefully before Lord Nocht as she whispers,

"Father."

Turning towards Ciardha, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "To see you have survived

so long, My child... Such strength."

Bowing her head, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Night has kept me... safe.

However She saw fit, Father."

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

Salome lifts her colourless irises to the countenance of Lord Nocht, only to

allow her lashes to lower and drag aside to the prostrated form of you.

l nocht

He is a radiant immortal and alternately imposing and unassuming as He lingers

within the shadows, bringing the fabric of darkness to life with His very

presence. The stark ebony of His skin is unblemished and smooth, from the

aristocratic contours of His face to the slender, musician's hands. Pointed ears

stick out from hair of pitch black that cascades down and around His shoulders.

Faint pinpricks of light dance within the flowing hair, surrounding it with an

effervescent glimmer like starlight. The only colour in His stoic countenance,

His eyes are a clear, ethereal blue, each pupil rimmed in a golden starburst

which makes His silent, thoughtful gaze appear to pierce to the very soul. He is

wearing an ethereal cloak of dark violet hues, a fractured gem suspended from a

thin, metal chain, boots of shifting shadow and divine clothing spun from ebon

cloth.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Though most of that time was by Her side,

much was also within that prison. Though, She saw need for my talents once more.

"

Nocht nods silently, His eyes glancing briefly at the bones that line the

borders of the room.

look

Amidst bones and rubble.

A fresh gale whistles in your ears. Root and vine have overcome this strange

hollow carved into the chasm's side, growing over the oddly smooth walls with

ease. Beneath these dangling appendages, the space opens up to a musty chamber

filled with a murky haze of dust and decay. Bones border the entirety of the

room, the remains tossed up against the wall still maintaining some semblance to

the long, elegant beings they once inhabited. A statuesque korrigan lurks in the

shadows, her beauty masked by darkness. A leopard lurks in the shadows,

curiously watching anything that moves. An exotic king cheetah stands poised

here, watching his surroundings with keen interest. Fly Tyamit, Ward of the Wyrd

is here. He wields a putrid thornvine whip in his left hand and a nature

talisman in his right. Clad in matte black leather, a golden-eyed savage lingers

here like a living shadow. Indoril is here, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He

wields a shark-emblazoned shield of abyssal hues in his left hand and a mystic

cudgel in his right. Versalean is here. He wields a golden whip of the pious in

his right hand. A spectral wendigo wraith hangs here hauntingly, a groaning howl

rumbling deep in his throat. A frost-touched savage waits here, garbed in black

wolf pelts and emanating a deathly chill. A massive spider skitters here,

spinning her web. Shadowbound Niico is here. He wields an athame dagger in his

left hand. Draped in the folds of bone-white robes, a tattooed savage idles here

with predatory intent. Nocht, the Silent hovers here, His form enveloped in a

dark halo of writhing and twisting shadows. A massive spider skitters here,

spinning her web. Ssaliss is here, pondering thoughtfully. He wields a glowing

powerstone in his left hand.

You see a single exit leading northeast.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "My child... There is another you may remember."

Your fingertips go numb as all warmth is sapped from your limbs, stolen away by

a haze that slowly coalesces high above. A maddened cry escapes amidst the clack

clack of your chattering teeth, piercing the ever-expanding fog as Manteekan,

the Nightmare descends hauntingly upon the Basin of Life.

The corners of Versalean's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.

Maniacal whispers come in bursts as a hazy mist chills the air with its cool

embrace. Amidst the frigid fog, two pale eyes glow as the incorporeal form of

Manteekan, the Nightmare slowly coalesces within.

Ssaliss bows respectfully to Manteekan.

Veyils flashes Manteekan a joyous smile.

Veyils Ysav'rai smiles broadly and says, "Hail Lord Manteekan."

Tarken bows respectfully to Manteekan.

With a flourish of his arm, Versalean bows deeply.

Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "You called, Nocht?"

Veyils gives the world a smart salute.

Zilias kneels before Manteekan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Indeed, dearest Manteekan."

Salome closes her eyes, as she gestures once more in her prostration to

Manteekan.

You have emoted: Rancoura rises from her prostration before the Silent Lord,

gaze shifting to Manteekan and swirling with a palpable, cool darkness.

Iorwen kneels before Manteekan, swearing her allegiance to Him.

Gesturing to the korrigan, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I'm sure you remember

Our.... joint project."

You have emoted: Rancoura's head bows to Manteekan now, hands clasped before her

even as she stands by her Lord's side.

You see the following people here:

Tyamit, Xenthos, Indoril, Niico, Tarken, Versalean, Manteekan, Veyils, Zilias,

Iorwen, Salome, Nocht, Ssaliss, Rancoura.

Salome follows suit, stepping back beside her brother, and the Queen at a

distance.

Indoril bows respectfully to Manteekan.

Locking His gaze on the korrigan as He strolls idly toward her, Manteekan, the

Nightmare says, "Ahhh, yes, your child, Nocht. She is as beautiful as I remember.

And still as powerful as I made her."

A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a

shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.

Niico's head slowly rises as he leans into his sister, eye following the

exchange closely.

As He cups the korrigans cheek, Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "I am

glad to see You did not... do away with her, after My gift."

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Even back then I would not be so foolish."

With a faint smile toward the Nightmare, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says,

"Tidings, Lord Nightmare. Such a pleasure to see You have returned."

l manteekan

He is a radiant immortal and gazes sternly about from behind His icy, pale eyes,

rubbing His needle-like fingers together as He watches. Hanging in the air like

a veil of fine mist, His presence is nothing more than a chill upon the skin.

Transparent flesh is pulled taut over His frail, bony frame, revealing an empty

void that lurks just beneath it. Chin tilted to the sky, He stands with an

arrogance not afforded to Him by His form. A ghastly aura hangs about Him,

manifesting in a cool fog that gathers at His feet, the miasma roiling like an

impending storm. He is wearing a torturous noose of thorn and vine and billowing

robes of a chilled mist.

Ghastly alabaster locks billow behind His head, each thread glowing white as it

whips frantically through the air behind Him. Icy mist trails behind each strand

as it thrashes about, slowly drifting to the ground to settle in a cloud of haze

that churns about His feet.

Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "Indeed, child.

And yours as well."

Gesturing to those gathered, Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "Now Nocht,

surely you will not keep the children in suspense. Do tell them of Your

korrigan!"

Looking out at the gathered mortals, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "The korrigan

are My creation. Children of the Elder Wars, they were one of My last before We

left for the Void... They could move through the shadows unseen by even the

Soulless Ones. They were able to help many flee their attacks... in the

beginning."

A shrill ringing fills the air as Manteekan bursts into a fit of deranged

laughter.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Though Mine is not the only hand in what you see

before you now."

Nocht glances over at Manteekan, bowing His head slightly.

Rejoining Nocht at His side, Manteekan, the Nightmare says, "And such useful

things they were! Surely You would not expect Me to see that squandered!"

You have emoted: Rancoura's gaze rests upon the Lord Nocht intensely, shifting

to Ciardha momentarily as her story is told.

Veyils Ysav'rai smiles and says, "They? They... hmm there are many more in

existence then?"

Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "One of Your children who could get so

close to the Soulless and survive? Such power they have!"

It is now the 9th of Estar, 465 years after the Coming of Estarra.

You tilt your head curiously.

Glancing over the scattered bones, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Indeed... They

fed upon the other fae who came to them."

A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a

shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "The Firsts and others of the Sixth were...

displeased."

Scoffing, Manteekan, the Nightmare says, "As They often were with My doings,

Nocht. But sense You not the power your child now holds?"

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I do not question it, dearest Manteekan. I was

right to disobey and secret them away with My Night."

The features of Manteekan's face distort as a malicious smile grows upon His

face, His features frozen as if caught in a rictus of death while He stares

madly into the distance.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "And by Sister Night we stayed for many years

too, Father. Though many did squabble, and our numbers seemed to fade. I was

soon the last, the others... I have not an inkling of where they may be."

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows smiles faintly as she runs a tongue over her dark

lips.

Tarken smirks.

Salome glances askance at you.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "It... it was not until. It was not until the

Taint swept over this very forest that Night saw to lock me away once more."

Quietly, you whisper to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "Yet, Sister Ciardha, we

have sensed other presences within the Realm of the Night of late. If they are

not of Your kin... know You who they may be?"

Twirling a strand of hair about her finger, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows

exclaims, "It was such a joyous time! I roamed free, and we slaughtered the fae

of the Faethorn! Maeve did not know what power Night held at Her side!"

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across your lips as you glance at Salome.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says to you, "Many things stir within Night's Realm.

You have sensed it with the shadows, have you not?"

You whisper to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "We have. Thus was our first

indication of what has turned out to be Your own presence, Sister."

Musingly as the whisper of an ancient crackling wind, Furiosa Salome Nightshade

intones, "The Maeve surely shall reckon now that Mother Night is where all fae

should reside."

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Sister Night wished to protect me from the

Maeve's wrath. She knew they would not see me live for my crimes against the fae.

"

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Which is why she sealed me in that prison,

with those awful guards."

Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "It seems your child has made a name for

herself, Nocht. She is even more frightening than I knew!"

A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a

shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.

You purse your lips, deep in thought as you contemplate Salome.

Nocht leans forward, an oppressive aura suddenly weighing down the room as He

places a hand on the korrigan's cheek.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Indeed.... and I am confident that she will now

direct this power towards the good of the Glomdoring and the Wyrd."

Smiling softly, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Won't you, My child?"

Smiling coyly, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Of course, Father. It is by

Your and Night's will that I shall serve the Glomdoring, however possible."

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Perhaps, a demonstration, my Lords? This talent

itself must be recognized and called upon for what it is." She turns to the

korrigan, and dipping her head gracefully, "If it is your wish, Sister."

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows runs her tongue over her teeth as she smiles widely.

Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Nocht, "I do suppose... the Glomdoring does not

yet have a way to deal with those who betray it. Perhaps You would let the

forest feed your child to... satiate her hunger, Nocht?"

Quietly, raising his head, Shadowbound Niico says, "As one of the Wyrdenwood, I

could not bleed for the forest. If we require a willing victim, then let it be

my first act in faeling form again to let my blood soak the ground."

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

You have emoted: A small smile touching her own lips, Rancoura inclines her head

towards Niico.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Then so be it, My little ones. I would not be

accused of starving My own."

Manteekan's face contorts into a sinister grin, revealing the points of the

sharpened teeth hidden beneath each pale lip.

Niico unwinds his hand from Salome's waist and steps forward, his head bowed

meekly as he bows to Nocht and Manteekan before staring at Ciardha, of Shackled

Shadows patiently. "When you are ready."

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "We would not dare to assume so, my Lord."

Manteekan, the Nightmare says to Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows, "Prepare

execution for Niico."

Running a hand over the dark inkings that mark her, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows

says, "Soon the shadows shall feast upon Niico. Let us prepare."

The darkness that swathes Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows begins to writhe in

anticipation as her flesh turns as black as Night.

The sky above the forest turns dark as the shadows throughout the Wyrden wood

begun to vibrate with hunger.

Niico closes his eyes and inhales deeply, absorbing the scent of his

surroundings.

With a flick of her wrist, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows sends the writhing

darkness flying about Niico. Penumbral bindings wrap around his wrists and

ankles and drag him to the forest floor.

Horror overcomes Niico's face as his body stiffens into paralysis.

Taking slow, precise steps, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows strides towards Niico,

who squirms against his bindings. The forest grows silent and she takes her

place at his feet and the shadows begin to pool beneath her.

Placing a hand upon Niico's brow, the blackness that covers Ciardha, of Shackled

Shadows's flesh begins to inch over him, slowly consuming him with darkness. As

the final bit of shadow leaves her, Niico's eyes open wide, revealing empty

sockets from which shoot streams of inky darkness towards the sky above and he

goes limp.

Silence pervades the area as beams of shadow pierce the sky above before dying

off suddenly.

Niico has been slain by Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows.

Her duty fulfilled, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows steps back into the shadows, a

sly smirk revealing but a hint of the black ichor that fills her mouth.

Composing herself, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Your will has been

enacted. Call upon me when you wish for my service once more."

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows turns the corpse of Niico over in her hands before

tossing it aside.

With disinterest, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows says, "Neither I nor Mother Night

have any need for your toys, Veyils."

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

Veyils shrugs helplessly.

Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows utters a shrill little laugh.

The soul of Niico says, "Nothing matters but Glomdoring."

The soul of Niico swirls in the air like a sparkling whirlwind, then vanishes in

a flash of chromatic colours.

Furiosa Salome Nightshade says, "Glory be to the Wyrden Wood."

Wiping her lips clean, Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows exclaims, "Such delightful

little things you are!"

Softly, you whisper, "Glory ever be."

Niico arrives from the northeast.

Iorwen Shee-Slaugh, Maestro of the Lament says, "Glory be to the Glomdoring."

Indoril nods his head sagely.

Manteekan, the Nightmare says, "Well, children, I shall leave you all to your

stories. I am sure you have many questions for the korrigan here. Do take care."

The incorporeal form of Manteekan, the Nightmare, dissolves into a cool mist

which creeps hauntingly away into the distance, leaving behind naught but an

eerie silence and an unsettling chill.

Nocht spares one last glance at the korrigan before taking His leave as well.

The surrounding shadows wane, falling back in despondent melancholy as the form

of Nocht, the Silent dissolves into wisps of shadow.

Rancoura · January 2017

More discussion with Ciardha followed, but I will abstain from posting the rest because Glomdoring Secrets.

Tylwyth · January 2017

Ooh, thanks for posting this.

Deichtine · January 2017

Wasn't much in the way of secrets afterwards it was just general chit chat with the beast about what she does and a vague concept of a threat growing within the wyrd for anyone interested in it.

Shaddus · January 2017

It took me 90% of that post to realise Ciardha was a mob and not an eph.

Tylwyth · January 2017

Yeah, I was kinda hoping we'd get an ephemeral but a new denizen is neat in it's own right.

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A Stirring in Mother Night's Realm - the Arrival of Ciardha, of Shackled Shadows

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