Session 67: Scallwags and Greycoasts: 'Arcanically' Driven with Purpose; The 8th Bloom
General Summary
Inside the domed stem, golden and gleaming, Aikhon breaks away from the rest of the group to discuss with his brother: are you, are we really ready for the sacrifice, and to what end? Our people, our crew, the future.
The male sphinx then speaks up, and he asks Saerah if she is ready, but only after he ignores Mila and Ilknar, and their concerns. It is Saerah's concern that he is most attentive too, and with her unsure answer, he asks the giant to speak, and the image of King Hekaton is sure, a younger version, but a copy to be sure, and a powerfuly magic too. Mila warns of this, and Ilknar only sees his father and a chance for him to speak his mind. He comes to the front and shoves the giant back, punches him in the face a half dozen times, and even Saerah aids. She does not want this, and she doesn't know what she wants either, but she knows these here, Ilknar included, and she attacks with eldtrich bolts to both the sphinx and the giantkin as Ilknar pummels it. It strikes back once, but then the sphinx' magic, as well as Valia disappearance and Aikhon and the others words, convince Saerah to calm, to listen and work together as a group.
When Valia gets to the other room, the female sphinx does not notice her, but she is not surprised neither, and she allows for the sea elf to rise on the large, 15 by 20 foot stone, gold, and wood altar. Runes and pictographs wreath around the altar, etched by radiant light. She will sacrifice her self, body and soul, to ensure a new future, one without the wrath and bloodlust of the sahuagin who set her on her trail of divine rage.
The other Scallywags trail into the room, and noticing Valia's choice, the encircle to pay their respects to the sea-elf before her mind and body, her soul and being, filter into the Golden Stem and become part of the 8th Bloom's Magic for the next generation. Ilknar hopes she finds peace, and Valia replies the same to him; Aikhon and Brimstone say their farewells, and Roland comes up to give Valia a hug, one last one, before she departs; a hug she has rarely received since she started her quest. Valia states, "I am jealous of your suits," and Roland retorts, "Anyone would be,"; and Mila leans against the far southern wall to record this memory of Barur, one to which she can tie powerful magics to, to influence and protect, to harness and transmute. Aikhon cries for the sea-elf, and this she-elf stands tall, alone on the altar. The female sphinx recites ancient incantations, and Valia disperses in a feeling of peace. The others encircled around Valia and the altar she stands upon, they see an almost horrendous movement as her body is almost liquidified and slurped like through a straw, into the pictographs and runes beneath her feet.
A few long moments of pause and silence take over this small group as Valia disperses. Just silence and memories, furious like the sounds of Revving Death, Valia's magical chainsaw armament.
The Male sphinx will eventually ask of Saerah: if you are ready, then we can continue what we are here for, so are you ready?
She is overwhelmed, and only after some aid by Aikhon, Brimstone, and even Mila first drawing attention to her--to help the others to even see her confusion--that Saerah can finally say she does not want this, for she does not want to leave this, that which she has found, those here around her that have so much purpose and conviction for their actions next: sanctify a throne, save a people, quell and evil monach, bring loyalty and honesty to the lands, help fallen former enemies find a new future--how could she not want to see those come to fruition?
Mila takes some time here to also begin analyzing, with her arcane senses, how much of the stem is energized by the sacrifices of Valia, the taint already, and even others beforehand. The male sphinx displays an hourglass to show the levels, and how close the three quarters strength the sacrifice of the sea-elf has brought them. It almost had activated the energon within, almost would have began something they would have had not time to judge and reason upon, but thankfully they did. Thankfully they did speak and reason out who would sacrifice what, and for what purpose.
At first more was offered by the dragonkin than others, and Mila sees how the orb of white dragonkind could sway the stem, could have cold and dark consequences that would not benefit anyone. Mila also does not want their continued additions to the energon of the stem to water-down, to take away the value of Valia's valiant sacrifice, her vow to bring less wrath to the Grey Coasts.
By this point, the dragon-brothers, Roland, and Saerah are atop the altar, and they overhear the female sphinx explain the duties he will not fulfill, his sacrifice will be different that originally planned, and that he must be okay with this. Aikhon is able to see at the same time an image below his feet, while he stands atop the stem's sacrificial altar, an image that depicts only one thing: a union between species, like Saerah and the giantkin, to bring other energon to the stem, other means to create the bloom's food for its future burgeoning.
At this point, the sacrifices are as follows: Saerah agrees to give some of her body, her blood, to reinforce the claims of the rest of the party; Brimstone gives his eye, to help the future of the Scions be seen with life and unity; Aikhon sacrifices his lifeforce, his blood and beyond, to help his dragonborn people find safety and kin, and he and his brother also sacrifice the golden dragon heart, that which they pilfered from the ancient Scion tomb of the First Daughter, to bring further glory and radiance to their people's goals and travels; Roland gives his left arm, and with this sacrifice of body, he hopes the loyalty and honesty reign in each others' hearts.
Mila is asking while these plans unfold, what Ilknar really wants, but he is unsure, other than he knows his duty must come to him, for their is no other; he is the last line of the Storm Giantkin. Thus, while he debats on how to aid in this energon and sacrifice to the 8th Bloom, Mila offers her own lifeforce, reasoning that Ilknar may not have enough blood left in him to give to this divine cause.
But, Ilknar, does come forward, and with releasing his lost memories of his childhood to give him focus as a future king, they are able to seal the 8th Bloom's purpose to be that of benevolence. The Sphinx' wings flap, and the giant copy of King Hekaton disperses, the altar turns to light, and the crew float like clouds, hearing Valia's creed: Be Better than what I was..., before they open to see them float, with golden star light falling around them, float down to the sea surface, and then soon land aboard the ships and with their crews. Mists and fog encircle above and around them, and Mym the ancient solar dragon dives to join them, only to be dispersed as well with the ancient magics. For them only to see sluded ripples of grey, and gold, and black wave out all around them, absorbing the ships still entangled with them. Only those in the center, closest to the stem, seem to be safe.
There are still ships to the south east, fighting and fleeing from a ghostly dwarven war axe, ships to the north dodging away from each other as a one of a trio of warships, presumably that of what is left of the Brackish Fleet, is taken under the waters by the faltering and rippling waters, of the sludge and golden gleams as the 8th Bloom begins to take hold, to use destruction and death, that which and even those who have fallen to bring a new life: the 8th Bloom.
Yet, another boat approaches, with a lost foriegn voice, one saying: Well, it looks like we came too late.
The male sphinx then speaks up, and he asks Saerah if she is ready, but only after he ignores Mila and Ilknar, and their concerns. It is Saerah's concern that he is most attentive too, and with her unsure answer, he asks the giant to speak, and the image of King Hekaton is sure, a younger version, but a copy to be sure, and a powerfuly magic too. Mila warns of this, and Ilknar only sees his father and a chance for him to speak his mind. He comes to the front and shoves the giant back, punches him in the face a half dozen times, and even Saerah aids. She does not want this, and she doesn't know what she wants either, but she knows these here, Ilknar included, and she attacks with eldtrich bolts to both the sphinx and the giantkin as Ilknar pummels it. It strikes back once, but then the sphinx' magic, as well as Valia disappearance and Aikhon and the others words, convince Saerah to calm, to listen and work together as a group.
When Valia gets to the other room, the female sphinx does not notice her, but she is not surprised neither, and she allows for the sea elf to rise on the large, 15 by 20 foot stone, gold, and wood altar. Runes and pictographs wreath around the altar, etched by radiant light. She will sacrifice her self, body and soul, to ensure a new future, one without the wrath and bloodlust of the sahuagin who set her on her trail of divine rage.
The other Scallywags trail into the room, and noticing Valia's choice, the encircle to pay their respects to the sea-elf before her mind and body, her soul and being, filter into the Golden Stem and become part of the 8th Bloom's Magic for the next generation. Ilknar hopes she finds peace, and Valia replies the same to him; Aikhon and Brimstone say their farewells, and Roland comes up to give Valia a hug, one last one, before she departs; a hug she has rarely received since she started her quest. Valia states, "I am jealous of your suits," and Roland retorts, "Anyone would be,"; and Mila leans against the far southern wall to record this memory of Barur, one to which she can tie powerful magics to, to influence and protect, to harness and transmute. Aikhon cries for the sea-elf, and this she-elf stands tall, alone on the altar. The female sphinx recites ancient incantations, and Valia disperses in a feeling of peace. The others encircled around Valia and the altar she stands upon, they see an almost horrendous movement as her body is almost liquidified and slurped like through a straw, into the pictographs and runes beneath her feet.
A few long moments of pause and silence take over this small group as Valia disperses. Just silence and memories, furious like the sounds of Revving Death, Valia's magical chainsaw armament.
The Male sphinx will eventually ask of Saerah: if you are ready, then we can continue what we are here for, so are you ready?
She is overwhelmed, and only after some aid by Aikhon, Brimstone, and even Mila first drawing attention to her--to help the others to even see her confusion--that Saerah can finally say she does not want this, for she does not want to leave this, that which she has found, those here around her that have so much purpose and conviction for their actions next: sanctify a throne, save a people, quell and evil monach, bring loyalty and honesty to the lands, help fallen former enemies find a new future--how could she not want to see those come to fruition?
Mila takes some time here to also begin analyzing, with her arcane senses, how much of the stem is energized by the sacrifices of Valia, the taint already, and even others beforehand. The male sphinx displays an hourglass to show the levels, and how close the three quarters strength the sacrifice of the sea-elf has brought them. It almost had activated the energon within, almost would have began something they would have had not time to judge and reason upon, but thankfully they did. Thankfully they did speak and reason out who would sacrifice what, and for what purpose.
At first more was offered by the dragonkin than others, and Mila sees how the orb of white dragonkind could sway the stem, could have cold and dark consequences that would not benefit anyone. Mila also does not want their continued additions to the energon of the stem to water-down, to take away the value of Valia's valiant sacrifice, her vow to bring less wrath to the Grey Coasts.
By this point, the dragon-brothers, Roland, and Saerah are atop the altar, and they overhear the female sphinx explain the duties he will not fulfill, his sacrifice will be different that originally planned, and that he must be okay with this. Aikhon is able to see at the same time an image below his feet, while he stands atop the stem's sacrificial altar, an image that depicts only one thing: a union between species, like Saerah and the giantkin, to bring other energon to the stem, other means to create the bloom's food for its future burgeoning.
At this point, the sacrifices are as follows: Saerah agrees to give some of her body, her blood, to reinforce the claims of the rest of the party; Brimstone gives his eye, to help the future of the Scions be seen with life and unity; Aikhon sacrifices his lifeforce, his blood and beyond, to help his dragonborn people find safety and kin, and he and his brother also sacrifice the golden dragon heart, that which they pilfered from the ancient Scion tomb of the First Daughter, to bring further glory and radiance to their people's goals and travels; Roland gives his left arm, and with this sacrifice of body, he hopes the loyalty and honesty reign in each others' hearts.
Mila is asking while these plans unfold, what Ilknar really wants, but he is unsure, other than he knows his duty must come to him, for their is no other; he is the last line of the Storm Giantkin. Thus, while he debats on how to aid in this energon and sacrifice to the 8th Bloom, Mila offers her own lifeforce, reasoning that Ilknar may not have enough blood left in him to give to this divine cause.
But, Ilknar, does come forward, and with releasing his lost memories of his childhood to give him focus as a future king, they are able to seal the 8th Bloom's purpose to be that of benevolence. The Sphinx' wings flap, and the giant copy of King Hekaton disperses, the altar turns to light, and the crew float like clouds, hearing Valia's creed: Be Better than what I was..., before they open to see them float, with golden star light falling around them, float down to the sea surface, and then soon land aboard the ships and with their crews. Mists and fog encircle above and around them, and Mym the ancient solar dragon dives to join them, only to be dispersed as well with the ancient magics. For them only to see sluded ripples of grey, and gold, and black wave out all around them, absorbing the ships still entangled with them. Only those in the center, closest to the stem, seem to be safe.
There are still ships to the south east, fighting and fleeing from a ghostly dwarven war axe, ships to the north dodging away from each other as a one of a trio of warships, presumably that of what is left of the Brackish Fleet, is taken under the waters by the faltering and rippling waters, of the sludge and golden gleams as the 8th Bloom begins to take hold, to use destruction and death, that which and even those who have fallen to bring a new life: the 8th Bloom.
Yet, another boat approaches, with a lost foriegn voice, one saying: Well, it looks like we came too late.
Report Date
18 Feb 2024
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