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Flame Roleplay - A sending off
Aulani
Member Posts: 199 ✭✭✭
While Samaos had been busy with things in the real life she does still show up for some fun. Thank you for an interesting send off. If there are newer people who want to know more about Flame and where it started they can feel free to send me a message or hit up Aulani IC for some fun Roleplay.
An acrid waft of smoke surrounds you suddenly.
A sour smell surrounds you, something familiar and acrid like smoke lingering in clothing.
You crease your brow in a frown.
You sniff a golden dress with sanguine lace, trying to decipher just what that smell emanating from it is.
Flux Vacuos.
This room has not been mapped.
A stunning statue of Septus, carved from pure white marble, stands here, eyes closed with an expression of absolute bliss upon its face.
e: n · ne · e · se · s · sw · d · in · o
Beneath a dense canopy. (Yhumara Islands.)
Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Finger-like leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood bearing a single white handprint towers far overhead here. An intricate brazier made of several metals and glass stands tall, its lustrous orange flame burning constantly. A large stone altar is here, marked with the image of a flame.
e: ne · se · w
Before a great pyramid. (lost) (Rystorian Pyramid.)
Leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood stretches far into the sky here.
e: e · w
A low terrace on the pyramid. (lost)
A glass-paneled case stands here, displaying the household's trophies.
e: e · w
Ascending the pyramid.
e: e · w
A small covered terrace.
e: e · w · in
Widening your stride, you step over the trench of glowing coals to the top of the pyramid, the heat stinging against your legs. The slight breeze of your movement causes the coals to erupt in greedy fire, intensifying the aroma of burning sandalwood before sinking back into ash.
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes.
e: e
You say, "I know that's you Samaos."
An akrabi woman straightens up, eyes flashing in muted anger.
An akrabi woman says, "Talking to yourself?"
You say, "Not if there is someone to hear me."
You brush the dust off yourself.
An akrabi woman says, "What are you doing here?"
An akrabi woman watches you, eyes glinting warily.
You say, "I'm not sure.. I."
You crease your brow in a frown.
An akrabi woman says, "Guilt, perhaps?"
An akrabi woman paces cagily opposite you around the edges of the sandalwood pit.
An akrabi woman crushes an errant ember beneath her bare feet, the glow of the sandalwood pit absorbed by her soot-stained chitin.
You say, "No. I have no guilt for what I've done. I poured everything I had into the Flames and they suddenly stopped. It was the last straw holding me in magick."
You say, "The Flames diminish, and I seek my power in other forms now."
An akrabi woman says, "Many of us are not so faithless."
You say, "And before the Flames, I followed the visions from the stone tree and before that I was forced into servitude to Janus."
You say, "Paths change and faith goes where it will."
An akrabi woman grunts noncommittally.
An akrabi woman says, "The Flames will take back what they have given, then."
You say, "What was given is mine! I earned it."
An akrabi woman says, "And you left it."
You glare angrily at an akrabi woman.
You say, "Leaving does not negate all the effort I poured into Flame."
An akrabi woman says, "What does the brand mean to you now?"
You say, "It's part of me. Part of my past.. I don't forget."
You have emoted: Aulani touches her fingers to the brand with a frown.
All of the dust hanging mid-air suddenly combusts, a brief but intense wall of flame flaring with a brilliance that makes your eyes water. The wall of burning dust disappears as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind the form of the Dread Flame Samaos.
You say, "Samaos.."
An akrabi woman idly scratches at her shoulder, flakes of soot and ash falling from her chitin.
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes. Samaos, the Dread Flame burns brightly here, her eyes smoldering as a halo of white-hot hair drifts around her veiled face. She wields the flaming whip Revelation in her left hand and the pitch-black staff of Terror in her right.
e: e
In Room: Samaos.
Samaos stands tall, blocking descent from the top of the pyramid, her form drenched in embers and her feet in pools of darkness.
Samaos says coldly, "Aulani."
Midnight tolls and a new day comes to the land.
It is the 7th day of Ultio, in the year 34 AM.
You have emoted: Aulani frowns up at you, though she does take a half step back at your cold tone.
Samaos says coldly, "The Flames keep me in arduous vigil, and test the faithful just as strenuously. The chaff is burned, I see."
You say, "The Flames dwindle and the visions cease, no matter what you do to me. I never hid that I desire power and the Flames are no longer what they were."
You shake your head sadly.
Samaos, the Dread Flame says, "They are ever-changing."
An akrabi woman paces cagily, eyes smoldering in unbridled animosity.
You say, "Ever growing and consuming, I thought. But after all the decades of promises, Khandava still stands."
You have emoted: Aulani says in a barely audible voice, "It beckoned me home."
An akrabi woman says to Samaos, "May I? May I take the faithless's brand?"
An akrabi woman gives a snake-like hiss.
You say to an akrabi woman, "Touch me and you'll rue it."
An akrabi woman says to you, "I dare you to make me."
An akrabi woman hisses at you.
Samaos gives no answer to Ailet, but tilts her head as she watches you.
Samaos, the Dread Flame says, "It beckoned you home?"
Samaos, the Dread Flame says, "What did? The filthy tree that will burn?"
You have emoted: Aulani takes a menacing step towards Ailet, but turns at your words.
You say, "Not that tree.. the forest.. it cries out in anguish and it echoes in my heart. I've fought against it so long but when the forest was tainted, so was I. By embracing that I become more then when I spend my energy fighting it."
An akrabi woman says, "Ah, so it is as the dimwits in El'Jazira say."
An akrabi woman says, "'If you cannot defeat it, join its ranks'?"
An akrabi woman spits on the ground in disgust.
You have emoted: Aulani crosses her arms firmly over her chest but as her eyes fall on Ailet she brings them slowly apart with a scowl.
Samaos says coldly, "If you will not willingly give up the brand, I will take it back at the behest of the Flames."
You say to Samaos, "That is the only way you'll claim it back from me. By force and your own hand. I promise you the servants of flame will not succeed."
You give an akrabi woman the once-over, eyeing her suspiciously.
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes. Samaos, the Dread Flame burns brightly here, her eyes smoldering as a halo of white-hot hair drifts around her veiled face. She wields the flaming whip Revelation in her left hand and the pitch-black staff of Terror in her right.
e: e
In Room: Samaos.
Samaos changes her stance, her shoulders rounding out and the veils around her growing dimmer. "What has happened since I have seen you last in the flesh, Aulani?" she asks, her voice softened.
You have emoted: Aulani frowns and opens her mouth angrily but closes it as she looks up at your familiar form. She takes a deep breath and begins again.
In a quiet voice, you say, "I reached everything I thought I wanted, control of the Sect, an iron hold on the Vindicators, the Duchy if I wanted it at a word. Friends, even a daughter and yet. It's never enough, I wanted more and more, but there is no more. The Flames stopped sending visions, there was nothing to guide me."
You say, "And home.. home beckoned all the time, insidious and creeping to steal my heart back."
Flames flare wildly for a brief moment, reaching a full man's height and dancing manically before falling deep into the pit of burning sandalwood.
Samaos turns, looking outward at the jungle, her hair flaming upon her shoulders and crackling sparks as she stands still.
Samaos says to nowhere in particular, "This I understand. Having and wanting more."
An akrabi woman crushes an errant ember beneath her bare feet, the glow of the sandalwood pit absorbed by her soot-stained chitin.
You have emoted: Aulani looks up with a glimpse of pleading but her face hardens back into a blank look after a bare moment.
An akrabi woman hisses, "Let me take what is not hers to carry anymore, Flaming One."
You have emoted: Aulani gives Ailet a look filled with disdain.
Samaos turns to Ailet, a stern look upon her face. "You will not decree what is whose to carry, Barbed One." Her face softens again as she looks at you. "You have no infinite capacity. To have one thing is to give another thing up, Aulani. You understand that, no?"
You say, "But when I have everything and it's not enough? What can I do but seek out more. I've given up everything except my husband in this."
Samaos says lightly, "Perhaps that's the dead weight." There is a long pause and she turns away to the jungle again, seemingly cognizant that levity is not entirely called for.
You have emoted: Aulani presses her lips in a firm line to avoid the laughter that shakes her form.
You say, "Ah Samaos.. I still won't give it to you willingly. No matter how soft you try to treat me."
Even from the side you can tell Samaos's features have hardened. Gone is the softness that framed her face, and the veils of flame swell in brilliance, crackling with raw fury.
Samaos turns to face you, her voice cold. "You will look at me, and you will see what is to come."
You have emoted: Aulani tilts her face up toward you, starting at your veils with a determined expression. She says, "I saw you born into this world. I created this temple. I called Qalifey through the Flame. I connected with Ailet. I spent decades in sacrifices and years preaching. I made Flame and I chose to leave it because it is less."
The darkness around you retreats from a sudden vision in flames before you, one of a vast burning forest populated by tumultuously twisting tree limbs. Curtains of fire waft sweltering waves of heat, your skin near-blistering from the inferno.
You have emoted: Aulani inhales sharply but stands firm against the inferno, though her hands shake at the sight around her.
As you blink against the wavering image, you realize there is a figure standing in the midst of the inferno, though the sick realization hits you that it is a humanoid shape presently losing many of its humanizing features to the engulfing fire.
You have emoted: Aulani takes one half step forward in concern but then holds herself still.
There is something vaguely familiar about it, and as you stare you realize it is your own body, scaled and charred as though your flesh has become petrified. Your burning form is rigid in a shriek, your mouth agape in a freakish shape as a guttering sound of devilish heat and wind meets your ears.
Midnight tolls and a new day comes to the land.
It is the 8th day of Ultio, in the year 34 AM.
Breaking through the vision is a fiery hand, reaching towards your forehead. You find yourself rooted to the ground, perhaps by fear, perhaps by something else, and when a volley of pain meets your senses you realize that the hand held to your forehead is Samaos's. The vision disappears suddenly, though the smell of burning flesh remains as her hand persists upon your forehead.
You have emoted: Aulani tries to turn away from you as she gives a clipped cry of pain. She reaches up to pull your fingers from her skin, only managing to burn streaks into her palms and fingers.
You have emoted: Aulani grits her teeth as she cradles her hands in front of her and says, "You can cover the brand, but that doesn't change what I was and that you are less without me."
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes. Samaos, the Dread Flame burns brightly here, her eyes smoldering as a halo of white-hot hair drifts around her veiled face. She wields the flaming whip Revelation in her left hand and the pitch-black staff of Terror in her right.
e: e
In Room: Samaos.
Samaos steps back finally, lowering her hand and surveying her handiwork, a charred handprint obscuring the former brand.
An ember explodes suddenly, sending a shower of sparks across the burning sandalwood pit.
You have emoted: Aulani shakes as she stands in front of you, breath coming hard through her teeth.
An akrabi woman steps away from the sandalwood pit to the edge of the pyramid, her lips curled into a sardonic grin as she surveys the jungle below. A long moment passes before she turns back to her anxious vigil.
Samaos says coldly, "You have earned this as well, Aulani."
You have emoted: Aulani slumps her shoulders down and nods.
A ghastly green hue spreads from one corner of the burning sandalwood pit to the other before a crimson flash in the midst of it envelopes the unnatural hue and returns the pit to its normal glow.
Samaos says coldly, "From here I will not hold Ailet back. Now is the time to take your leave in peace."
You have emoted: Aulani glares once over at Ailet then straightens her back and walks slowly from the temple. She pauses at the pit and reaches into it, removing a burning and charred piece of sandalwood, smothering the flames in her own palm she continues without looking back.
She is an intelligent sylayan. Lean muscles cover her small, five foot tall frame and she has an almost boyishly slim figure. The palms of her hands and fingers hold shiny burn scars, her right hand embedded with charred slivers of sandalwood. Slightly wavy black hair falls to well below her shoulders, the top half pulled back into a tight braid. Her eyes are an indistinct grey in colour with a tinge of blue behind them, set into a long face. A scattering of freckles dust her cheeks and the bridge of her narrow nose. Pink lips match well with her lightly tanned skin. Blackened flesh mars her forhead in the shape of the heel of a hand, the perpetually fresh burn cracked along the edges. She is wearing a tiny paw-print badge, a narrow white vialbelt, a basilisk-graven band of black gold, a golden dress with sanguine lace, a woolen cloak, a petrified wood bracelet, an icy blue runic ring, a simple ring of silver, 15 pocketbelts, a stout leather satchel, a sleek upper arm sheath, soft-soled charcoal boots, a sable pack with silver clasps, a small hip scabbard, a Kith'Vahni family crested ring, a vivid pouch of white leather, an ebony and ice feather charm, a suit of scale mail, a set of silver bracelets, a steelweave surcoat, and a Diadem of the Quickening. She wields a truesilver shield in her left hand and a sturdy shortsword in her right.
A small covered terrace.
e: e · w · in
Ascending the pyramid.
e: e · w
A low terrace on the pyramid.
A glass-paneled case stands here, displaying the household's trophies.
e: e · w
Before a great pyramid. (Rystorian Pyramid.)
Leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood stretches far into the sky here.
e: e · w
Beneath a dense canopy. (lost) (Yhumara Islands.)
Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Finger-like leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood bearing a single white handprint towers far overhead here. An intricate brazier made of several metals and glass stands tall, its lustrous orange flame burning constantly. A large stone altar is here, marked with the image of a flame. Resting on its golden-white haunches, a tassel-ear marmoset peers intelligently around its surroundings.
e: ne · se · w
You have recovered balance.
You reach out and touch the map before you. Your surroundings spin as you melt effortlessly into the image.
The Khandava Archway. (road).
Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Wicked thorns glistening dangerously, a twisted blackthorn tree is here. A thick tangle of twisted red roots pulses and groans, growing en masse along the ground. An enormous redwood tree stands like an ancient sentinel here, dominating its surroundings with a sensation of enchantment. Two massive redwoods grow together here, forming an archway of living wood. Standing proudly with her arm outstretched, a marble statue of Lyria, the Reborn, resides upon a redwood dais, its base wreathed in purple wisteria. As if in search of water, an alabaster kelpie warhorse paws at the ground with a snail-covered hoof. Tossing his majestic silver head, a stallion of the Modin Valley stands here impassively. Unfinished trenches have been dug at this location, with wires lying all around. The effects of this location have been twisted under a demonic influence.
e: w · e
An acrid waft of smoke surrounds you suddenly.
A sour smell surrounds you, something familiar and acrid like smoke lingering in clothing.
You crease your brow in a frown.
You sniff a golden dress with sanguine lace, trying to decipher just what that smell emanating from it is.
Flux Vacuos.
This room has not been mapped.
A stunning statue of Septus, carved from pure white marble, stands here, eyes closed with an expression of absolute bliss upon its face.
e: n · ne · e · se · s · sw · d · in · o
Beneath a dense canopy. (Yhumara Islands.)
Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Finger-like leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood bearing a single white handprint towers far overhead here. An intricate brazier made of several metals and glass stands tall, its lustrous orange flame burning constantly. A large stone altar is here, marked with the image of a flame.
e: ne · se · w
Before a great pyramid. (lost) (Rystorian Pyramid.)
Leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood stretches far into the sky here.
e: e · w
A low terrace on the pyramid. (lost)
A glass-paneled case stands here, displaying the household's trophies.
e: e · w
Ascending the pyramid.
e: e · w
A small covered terrace.
e: e · w · in
Widening your stride, you step over the trench of glowing coals to the top of the pyramid, the heat stinging against your legs. The slight breeze of your movement causes the coals to erupt in greedy fire, intensifying the aroma of burning sandalwood before sinking back into ash.
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes.
e: e
You say, "I know that's you Samaos."
An akrabi woman straightens up, eyes flashing in muted anger.
An akrabi woman says, "Talking to yourself?"
You say, "Not if there is someone to hear me."
You brush the dust off yourself.
An akrabi woman says, "What are you doing here?"
An akrabi woman watches you, eyes glinting warily.
You say, "I'm not sure.. I."
You crease your brow in a frown.
An akrabi woman says, "Guilt, perhaps?"
An akrabi woman paces cagily opposite you around the edges of the sandalwood pit.
An akrabi woman crushes an errant ember beneath her bare feet, the glow of the sandalwood pit absorbed by her soot-stained chitin.
You say, "No. I have no guilt for what I've done. I poured everything I had into the Flames and they suddenly stopped. It was the last straw holding me in magick."
You say, "The Flames diminish, and I seek my power in other forms now."
An akrabi woman says, "Many of us are not so faithless."
You say, "And before the Flames, I followed the visions from the stone tree and before that I was forced into servitude to Janus."
You say, "Paths change and faith goes where it will."
An akrabi woman grunts noncommittally.
An akrabi woman says, "The Flames will take back what they have given, then."
You say, "What was given is mine! I earned it."
An akrabi woman says, "And you left it."
You glare angrily at an akrabi woman.
You say, "Leaving does not negate all the effort I poured into Flame."
An akrabi woman says, "What does the brand mean to you now?"
You say, "It's part of me. Part of my past.. I don't forget."
You have emoted: Aulani touches her fingers to the brand with a frown.
All of the dust hanging mid-air suddenly combusts, a brief but intense wall of flame flaring with a brilliance that makes your eyes water. The wall of burning dust disappears as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind the form of the Dread Flame Samaos.
You say, "Samaos.."
An akrabi woman idly scratches at her shoulder, flakes of soot and ash falling from her chitin.
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes. Samaos, the Dread Flame burns brightly here, her eyes smoldering as a halo of white-hot hair drifts around her veiled face. She wields the flaming whip Revelation in her left hand and the pitch-black staff of Terror in her right.
e: e
In Room: Samaos.
Samaos stands tall, blocking descent from the top of the pyramid, her form drenched in embers and her feet in pools of darkness.
Samaos says coldly, "Aulani."
Midnight tolls and a new day comes to the land.
It is the 7th day of Ultio, in the year 34 AM.
You have emoted: Aulani frowns up at you, though she does take a half step back at your cold tone.
Samaos says coldly, "The Flames keep me in arduous vigil, and test the faithful just as strenuously. The chaff is burned, I see."
You say, "The Flames dwindle and the visions cease, no matter what you do to me. I never hid that I desire power and the Flames are no longer what they were."
You shake your head sadly.
Samaos, the Dread Flame says, "They are ever-changing."
An akrabi woman paces cagily, eyes smoldering in unbridled animosity.
You say, "Ever growing and consuming, I thought. But after all the decades of promises, Khandava still stands."
You have emoted: Aulani says in a barely audible voice, "It beckoned me home."
An akrabi woman says to Samaos, "May I? May I take the faithless's brand?"
An akrabi woman gives a snake-like hiss.
You say to an akrabi woman, "Touch me and you'll rue it."
An akrabi woman says to you, "I dare you to make me."
An akrabi woman hisses at you.
Samaos gives no answer to Ailet, but tilts her head as she watches you.
Samaos, the Dread Flame says, "It beckoned you home?"
Samaos, the Dread Flame says, "What did? The filthy tree that will burn?"
You have emoted: Aulani takes a menacing step towards Ailet, but turns at your words.
You say, "Not that tree.. the forest.. it cries out in anguish and it echoes in my heart. I've fought against it so long but when the forest was tainted, so was I. By embracing that I become more then when I spend my energy fighting it."
An akrabi woman says, "Ah, so it is as the dimwits in El'Jazira say."
An akrabi woman says, "'If you cannot defeat it, join its ranks'?"
An akrabi woman spits on the ground in disgust.
You have emoted: Aulani crosses her arms firmly over her chest but as her eyes fall on Ailet she brings them slowly apart with a scowl.
Samaos says coldly, "If you will not willingly give up the brand, I will take it back at the behest of the Flames."
You say to Samaos, "That is the only way you'll claim it back from me. By force and your own hand. I promise you the servants of flame will not succeed."
You give an akrabi woman the once-over, eyeing her suspiciously.
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes. Samaos, the Dread Flame burns brightly here, her eyes smoldering as a halo of white-hot hair drifts around her veiled face. She wields the flaming whip Revelation in her left hand and the pitch-black staff of Terror in her right.
e: e
In Room: Samaos.
Samaos changes her stance, her shoulders rounding out and the veils around her growing dimmer. "What has happened since I have seen you last in the flesh, Aulani?" she asks, her voice softened.
You have emoted: Aulani frowns and opens her mouth angrily but closes it as she looks up at your familiar form. She takes a deep breath and begins again.
In a quiet voice, you say, "I reached everything I thought I wanted, control of the Sect, an iron hold on the Vindicators, the Duchy if I wanted it at a word. Friends, even a daughter and yet. It's never enough, I wanted more and more, but there is no more. The Flames stopped sending visions, there was nothing to guide me."
You say, "And home.. home beckoned all the time, insidious and creeping to steal my heart back."
Flames flare wildly for a brief moment, reaching a full man's height and dancing manically before falling deep into the pit of burning sandalwood.
Samaos turns, looking outward at the jungle, her hair flaming upon her shoulders and crackling sparks as she stands still.
Samaos says to nowhere in particular, "This I understand. Having and wanting more."
An akrabi woman crushes an errant ember beneath her bare feet, the glow of the sandalwood pit absorbed by her soot-stained chitin.
You have emoted: Aulani looks up with a glimpse of pleading but her face hardens back into a blank look after a bare moment.
An akrabi woman hisses, "Let me take what is not hers to carry anymore, Flaming One."
You have emoted: Aulani gives Ailet a look filled with disdain.
Samaos turns to Ailet, a stern look upon her face. "You will not decree what is whose to carry, Barbed One." Her face softens again as she looks at you. "You have no infinite capacity. To have one thing is to give another thing up, Aulani. You understand that, no?"
You say, "But when I have everything and it's not enough? What can I do but seek out more. I've given up everything except my husband in this."
Samaos says lightly, "Perhaps that's the dead weight." There is a long pause and she turns away to the jungle again, seemingly cognizant that levity is not entirely called for.
You have emoted: Aulani presses her lips in a firm line to avoid the laughter that shakes her form.
You say, "Ah Samaos.. I still won't give it to you willingly. No matter how soft you try to treat me."
Even from the side you can tell Samaos's features have hardened. Gone is the softness that framed her face, and the veils of flame swell in brilliance, crackling with raw fury.
Samaos turns to face you, her voice cold. "You will look at me, and you will see what is to come."
You have emoted: Aulani tilts her face up toward you, starting at your veils with a determined expression. She says, "I saw you born into this world. I created this temple. I called Qalifey through the Flame. I connected with Ailet. I spent decades in sacrifices and years preaching. I made Flame and I chose to leave it because it is less."
The darkness around you retreats from a sudden vision in flames before you, one of a vast burning forest populated by tumultuously twisting tree limbs. Curtains of fire waft sweltering waves of heat, your skin near-blistering from the inferno.
You have emoted: Aulani inhales sharply but stands firm against the inferno, though her hands shake at the sight around her.
As you blink against the wavering image, you realize there is a figure standing in the midst of the inferno, though the sick realization hits you that it is a humanoid shape presently losing many of its humanizing features to the engulfing fire.
You have emoted: Aulani takes one half step forward in concern but then holds herself still.
There is something vaguely familiar about it, and as you stare you realize it is your own body, scaled and charred as though your flesh has become petrified. Your burning form is rigid in a shriek, your mouth agape in a freakish shape as a guttering sound of devilish heat and wind meets your ears.
Midnight tolls and a new day comes to the land.
It is the 8th day of Ultio, in the year 34 AM.
Breaking through the vision is a fiery hand, reaching towards your forehead. You find yourself rooted to the ground, perhaps by fear, perhaps by something else, and when a volley of pain meets your senses you realize that the hand held to your forehead is Samaos's. The vision disappears suddenly, though the smell of burning flesh remains as her hand persists upon your forehead.
You have emoted: Aulani tries to turn away from you as she gives a clipped cry of pain. She reaches up to pull your fingers from her skin, only managing to burn streaks into her palms and fingers.
You have emoted: Aulani grits her teeth as she cradles her hands in front of her and says, "You can cover the brand, but that doesn't change what I was and that you are less without me."
Atop a monumental pyramid.
A tortuous oaken chair shaped like the maw of a chimera sits here. An akrabi woman grips a bloodstained severed stinger here, her flame-blackened chitin covered scantily in still-smoking rags of black silk. A young sylayan woman is here, her face obscured by the hood of her scarlet robes. Samaos, the Dread Flame burns brightly here, her eyes smoldering as a halo of white-hot hair drifts around her veiled face. She wields the flaming whip Revelation in her left hand and the pitch-black staff of Terror in her right.
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In Room: Samaos.
Samaos steps back finally, lowering her hand and surveying her handiwork, a charred handprint obscuring the former brand.
An ember explodes suddenly, sending a shower of sparks across the burning sandalwood pit.
You have emoted: Aulani shakes as she stands in front of you, breath coming hard through her teeth.
An akrabi woman steps away from the sandalwood pit to the edge of the pyramid, her lips curled into a sardonic grin as she surveys the jungle below. A long moment passes before she turns back to her anxious vigil.
Samaos says coldly, "You have earned this as well, Aulani."
You have emoted: Aulani slumps her shoulders down and nods.
A ghastly green hue spreads from one corner of the burning sandalwood pit to the other before a crimson flash in the midst of it envelopes the unnatural hue and returns the pit to its normal glow.
Samaos says coldly, "From here I will not hold Ailet back. Now is the time to take your leave in peace."
You have emoted: Aulani glares once over at Ailet then straightens her back and walks slowly from the temple. She pauses at the pit and reaches into it, removing a burning and charred piece of sandalwood, smothering the flames in her own palm she continues without looking back.
She is an intelligent sylayan. Lean muscles cover her small, five foot tall frame and she has an almost boyishly slim figure. The palms of her hands and fingers hold shiny burn scars, her right hand embedded with charred slivers of sandalwood. Slightly wavy black hair falls to well below her shoulders, the top half pulled back into a tight braid. Her eyes are an indistinct grey in colour with a tinge of blue behind them, set into a long face. A scattering of freckles dust her cheeks and the bridge of her narrow nose. Pink lips match well with her lightly tanned skin. Blackened flesh mars her forhead in the shape of the heel of a hand, the perpetually fresh burn cracked along the edges. She is wearing a tiny paw-print badge, a narrow white vialbelt, a basilisk-graven band of black gold, a golden dress with sanguine lace, a woolen cloak, a petrified wood bracelet, an icy blue runic ring, a simple ring of silver, 15 pocketbelts, a stout leather satchel, a sleek upper arm sheath, soft-soled charcoal boots, a sable pack with silver clasps, a small hip scabbard, a Kith'Vahni family crested ring, a vivid pouch of white leather, an ebony and ice feather charm, a suit of scale mail, a set of silver bracelets, a steelweave surcoat, and a Diadem of the Quickening. She wields a truesilver shield in her left hand and a sturdy shortsword in her right.
A small covered terrace.
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Ascending the pyramid.
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A low terrace on the pyramid.
A glass-paneled case stands here, displaying the household's trophies.
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Before a great pyramid. (Rystorian Pyramid.)
Leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood stretches far into the sky here.
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Beneath a dense canopy. (lost) (Yhumara Islands.)
Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Finger-like leaves flaky with a white-grey powder, a black-trunked ashwood bearing a single white handprint towers far overhead here. An intricate brazier made of several metals and glass stands tall, its lustrous orange flame burning constantly. A large stone altar is here, marked with the image of a flame. Resting on its golden-white haunches, a tassel-ear marmoset peers intelligently around its surroundings.
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You have recovered balance.
You reach out and touch the map before you. Your surroundings spin as you melt effortlessly into the image.
The Khandava Archway. (road).
Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Wicked thorns glistening dangerously, a twisted blackthorn tree is here. A thick tangle of twisted red roots pulses and groans, growing en masse along the ground. An enormous redwood tree stands like an ancient sentinel here, dominating its surroundings with a sensation of enchantment. Two massive redwoods grow together here, forming an archway of living wood. Standing proudly with her arm outstretched, a marble statue of Lyria, the Reborn, resides upon a redwood dais, its base wreathed in purple wisteria. As if in search of water, an alabaster kelpie warhorse paws at the ground with a snail-covered hoof. Tossing his majestic silver head, a stallion of the Modin Valley stands here impassively. Unfinished trenches have been dug at this location, with wires lying all around. The effects of this location have been twisted under a demonic influence.
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