...what Bristenn said.

Here are a few details. These folks attended:

Torverner, Archales, Lord Chivalrous, Kateerina, Godefroy, Magister Raelee, Lady Divone, Kasia, Sir Eahlstan, Sir Metadi, Rolfard, Kippe, Droit, Mohrgan, Lord Balantine, Lady Arwen, Kerl, Sir Bristenn.


This is what we saw (between beseeching, and prayers, and comforting words to Chaeye, and slightly more beseeching):

The shrine fills with scents of loam and grass, the sheen of moonlight, the distant cries of birdsong. Images swirl into view, sharing the space of the shrine in a disorienting fashion. A quiet glade rests beneath an unnaturally dark night, illuminated by the glow of a crystalline cocoon.

A woman made of shadows materializes nearby, her tilted silver eyes wide and empty of emotion. She reaches out toward the cocoon, but a sob wracks her body, and her fingertips fall.

(We would like to think she DID hear us at this point, meaning she is reachable... somehow)

For a moment, it is as if the woman has heard. Her spine stiffens, and she turns, silver eyes widening, but then she shakes her head and returns her attention to the crystalline casing.

As she dissolves into silver and shadow, the woman whispers, "Llumen."

The images swirl, being replaced with the ebon walls of a small cell. The odors here are different. Sounds of clanging plate and marching boots pounding on pavement emanate from outside. The shadowed woman huddles in the shadows of the otherwise-empty cell, her gaze blank.

A muffled voice emanates from outside the cell. "Is someone in there?" it asks. The woman's chin lifts, she shuts her eyes, and vanishes. As the vision begins to fade, another voice asks a distorted question, and the first responds, "Nothing... just Larrinthe's old cell. I thought I saw something, that's all..."

Abruptly, the sense of peace and security enshrouding the shrine begins to waver. The shadows blaze with crimson outlines, and a madman's laughter peals through the area.

The voice of Indhis says, "It won't be long now. Not long at all. I will be free."

The crimson outlines of the shadows die away, but a disquieting, unnatural heat remains.

Crimson stars wink from the waters of the font.

The ebon candle continues to burn. As it flares momentarily, a series of flame-shaped tendrils of red smoke meander up through a thick blanket of grey.

Then it was over.

I did like this exchange at the end, though, and thought I would include it here:

Bristenn tiredly admits, "I personally believe we simply wait for her to return, and hold our ground and keep pushing on the duskborn in the meantime."
You quietly say, "We need her as Dreamwalker, as her strong self."
Godefroy says, "If she is in the glade, the warrior is still within her."
Mohrgan firmly says, "We must each be that warrior."
Kippe nods in agreement at Bristenn.
You nod at Godefroy.

Speaking wearily to Metadi, Bristenn replies, "We'll do whatever it takes to save Elanthia."
Bristenn surreptitiously adds, "..again."
You turn to face a graceful marble altar.
Bristenn grins slowly.
Godefroy says, "I agree with Sir Bristenn. If Chaeye needs us to take up this task, then I think we should."
Mohrgan adopts an agreeable expression.
Divone nods slowly.


Onward to the next Duskborn, then. Perhaps our strength will carry over to Chaeye and she will rally. One can only hope.

-Auragin Darkwynde, Ronan Priestess, Northern Fury Captain, doing whatever it takes to save Elanthia... again! :grin: