((Closed RP, Only those who are involved post, please))
A crackling fire stood in the center of a dark room, its warmth and light gently emanating around it. Around the room various altars had been erected, something rested silently on them, though their energy could be felt.
An elf, an elf could be seen near the fire. Listening patiently at the elf's strange words, a man could be seen.
What happens here?
A few strange words from the elf and suddenly the room becomes brighter. Are the objects on the altar glowing now? Yes, light flows from them, filling the shadows of the room.
With this new light others can be seen in the corners of the room. An elfess...silvery hair flowing from her scalp. Other men are also seen around.
More strange words...
The elf pulls a pouch from a pocket in his robe.
What is it?
He reaches in the pouch, a thick salve in his hand is now there. Gently he spreads the salve over the man's eyes. The man does not recoil.
What type of ritual is this?
With a few more strange words and some flow of energy in the room, the objects on the altar seem to find their way towards the elf. What could they be? Whatever they are, the elf seems to be pulling energy from them.
Energy...he is directing it towards the man's eyes.
Visions Revealed
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abcfantasy
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So much waiting and so much anxiety in anticipation for this day. Weeks and even months have passed since when Jorokar was magically blinded by the orc shaman. He thought in some way, he could live and cope in life while bearing the lack of sight, but apparently it wasn’t so. He had to abandon most of his ambitions like protecting the loved ones and the whole island as a Page of Gobaith. The inability of doing so was crushing his confidence and his hopes. Thus, what remained was finding a cure to his blindness, although little faith did he have on this.
However, that day has finally come. With a heart beating as hard as it could, Jorokar found himself kneeling down before the renowned elven druid who had claimed to have attained a possible cure. At last, this nasty nightmare would soon be over, history. This had caused a sudden rash of excitement but at the same time there was fear too. The chance of success wasn’t certain, and the result could only be known after the attempt.
And so they proceeded. The feeling of the ointment against his closed eyes was accompanied with a rise of tension in Jorokar’s body. Time passed slowly, and every second was echoed with a beat of his heart.
The unfamiliar words that were uttered from the elf’s lips sounded mystical. Soon he felt a peculiar sensation flowing inside him, surely not a pleasant one. What was going on? He thought. He had no idea, but he trusted these resolute actions of the elf.
That sensation suddenly ceased. Did it fail? He didn’t try to open his eyes as of yet, he was too scared to do so. He only did once he was ordered by the elf.
His hands became shaky, his breath heavy. His heartbeat raced hard against his chest, and his shoulders rose with each gasp. His eyes flickered open, very slowly, very hesitantly.
Black.
He thought it had failed, but it needed only a few seconds before he realized that the room around him was little by little coming into sight. A heavily blurred figure could be seen in front of Jorokar, but his view gradually sharpened.
"I…I can see…"
He spoke with delight, but his words wavered, mostly being agitated and excited with the result. Although his lips quivered lightly, they formed a joyful smile. His head swung around then quickly, stopping until a thin figure and silvery hair caught his attention. He was just content to see the hazy image of that figure, and content to reveal his smile to her.
Another second and that smile unfortunately turned into a frown. Jorokar’s sight was once again fading away until he fell to the ground, unconscious. The spell was successful, but magic was never his favourite, and this whole ritual had also exhausted him both mentally and physically, so much that his body urgently demanded a rest.
However, that day has finally come. With a heart beating as hard as it could, Jorokar found himself kneeling down before the renowned elven druid who had claimed to have attained a possible cure. At last, this nasty nightmare would soon be over, history. This had caused a sudden rash of excitement but at the same time there was fear too. The chance of success wasn’t certain, and the result could only be known after the attempt.
And so they proceeded. The feeling of the ointment against his closed eyes was accompanied with a rise of tension in Jorokar’s body. Time passed slowly, and every second was echoed with a beat of his heart.
The unfamiliar words that were uttered from the elf’s lips sounded mystical. Soon he felt a peculiar sensation flowing inside him, surely not a pleasant one. What was going on? He thought. He had no idea, but he trusted these resolute actions of the elf.
That sensation suddenly ceased. Did it fail? He didn’t try to open his eyes as of yet, he was too scared to do so. He only did once he was ordered by the elf.
His hands became shaky, his breath heavy. His heartbeat raced hard against his chest, and his shoulders rose with each gasp. His eyes flickered open, very slowly, very hesitantly.
Black.
He thought it had failed, but it needed only a few seconds before he realized that the room around him was little by little coming into sight. A heavily blurred figure could be seen in front of Jorokar, but his view gradually sharpened.
"I…I can see…"
He spoke with delight, but his words wavered, mostly being agitated and excited with the result. Although his lips quivered lightly, they formed a joyful smile. His head swung around then quickly, stopping until a thin figure and silvery hair caught his attention. He was just content to see the hazy image of that figure, and content to reveal his smile to her.
Another second and that smile unfortunately turned into a frown. Jorokar’s sight was once again fading away until he fell to the ground, unconscious. The spell was successful, but magic was never his favourite, and this whole ritual had also exhausted him both mentally and physically, so much that his body urgently demanded a rest.
The quiet snap of burning wood, the fumes of herbs, the haze of smoke. All of it gave the scene a startling effect. It was surreal, to say the least. And the sensation of magical powers crept through her skin in a way that threatened to send trembles of awe down her spine.
The clouding smoke of the fire near the silent elfess swirled about the two figures before her, giving them an almost godly appearance. Her eyes were locked upon the knelt figures, the anxious tension painfully clear in her attempt at a passive expression. Her nerves felt as if they too were set aflame like the disintegrating twigs caught within the fire near the slowly working elf. Shifting with all too obvious restlessness, the elfess allows her emerald gaze to pass over the many altars, in the names of the Gods above, that had been erected. Then, her unsettled attention swept past the shadowed faces of those accompanying her and the two central figures.
Only after she was satisfied with the surroundings did she return her steady stare to the man and elf knelt near the fire. Her eyes followed the elf's hand as it lifted to the man's closed eyes, applying some herbal mixture only known to him upon the man's eyelids with the gentle touch only a Druid possesses.
And so Ayla continued to watch, continually shifting, crossing and uncrossing her arms, eyes locked upon the two. She was so scared that this plan, of which had taken so long to prepare, would fall through. At that moment... It was her worst fear.
Her worried thoughts were quickly interrupted as movement drew her out of the slight daze. Her eyes widened gradually as she witnessed the relics upon the altars slowly shift with some eerie energy attached to the elf. They seemed to suddenly float, attracted to the chanting elf as if by force.
The sudden flow of magical energy about the room was so strong that, to Ayla, it felt like a heavy pressure upon her heart. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. A grimace slowly appeared on her face and so it remained until the energy had been used fully upon the man.
She was almost writhing with the uncomfortable sensation pressing around her the entire time. However, a quiet sigh and a settling in her restless movements signaled an end to the elf's use of magic as well as the ceasing of his uttered words. Stepping into the shadows, Ayla clenched her jaws as her gaze fell steady again upon the two.
"Open you eyes, Jorokar..."
For some reason, to the elfess, those words threatened to press against her with a far stronger force than the magic. Her face becomes completely passive, no expression on it as her eyes lock upon the man's face. Time seemed to slow then, even for herself, as she waited.
And slowly, oh so slowly his eyes opened. She watched his face change from worried disappointment to realization... To joy.
"I can see."
At those words, she wanted to cry with happiness. It had worked..! The many hours she, Azuros and others had sacrificed had indeed paid off! At that moment, Ayla was set upon embracing the man that finally looked upon her and saw her. But before even a step could be taken, Ayla watched in bewildered surprise as the joy disappears and his face grows slack. Fear flooded her every thought the moment the man fell back, and she was near shouting his name, surprised by the reaction. But quick words from the elf near her halted the words upon her lips.
"Leave him..."
Those two words were enough. She remained where she was, watching as another that had witnessed moved to gather the unconscious man, carrying him toward the familiar room. For a long moment, she just stood there, staring blankly. And so she would have remained, had the sight of Azuros not caught her attention. In silence, she moved toward him, all intentions set on embracing the elf, uttering only two short words before she moved to follow the figure taking the unconscious Jorokar elsewhere.
"Azuros..."
"...We succeeded."
The clouding smoke of the fire near the silent elfess swirled about the two figures before her, giving them an almost godly appearance. Her eyes were locked upon the knelt figures, the anxious tension painfully clear in her attempt at a passive expression. Her nerves felt as if they too were set aflame like the disintegrating twigs caught within the fire near the slowly working elf. Shifting with all too obvious restlessness, the elfess allows her emerald gaze to pass over the many altars, in the names of the Gods above, that had been erected. Then, her unsettled attention swept past the shadowed faces of those accompanying her and the two central figures.
Only after she was satisfied with the surroundings did she return her steady stare to the man and elf knelt near the fire. Her eyes followed the elf's hand as it lifted to the man's closed eyes, applying some herbal mixture only known to him upon the man's eyelids with the gentle touch only a Druid possesses.
And so Ayla continued to watch, continually shifting, crossing and uncrossing her arms, eyes locked upon the two. She was so scared that this plan, of which had taken so long to prepare, would fall through. At that moment... It was her worst fear.
Her worried thoughts were quickly interrupted as movement drew her out of the slight daze. Her eyes widened gradually as she witnessed the relics upon the altars slowly shift with some eerie energy attached to the elf. They seemed to suddenly float, attracted to the chanting elf as if by force.
The sudden flow of magical energy about the room was so strong that, to Ayla, it felt like a heavy pressure upon her heart. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. A grimace slowly appeared on her face and so it remained until the energy had been used fully upon the man.
She was almost writhing with the uncomfortable sensation pressing around her the entire time. However, a quiet sigh and a settling in her restless movements signaled an end to the elf's use of magic as well as the ceasing of his uttered words. Stepping into the shadows, Ayla clenched her jaws as her gaze fell steady again upon the two.
"Open you eyes, Jorokar..."
For some reason, to the elfess, those words threatened to press against her with a far stronger force than the magic. Her face becomes completely passive, no expression on it as her eyes lock upon the man's face. Time seemed to slow then, even for herself, as she waited.
And slowly, oh so slowly his eyes opened. She watched his face change from worried disappointment to realization... To joy.
"I can see."
At those words, she wanted to cry with happiness. It had worked..! The many hours she, Azuros and others had sacrificed had indeed paid off! At that moment, Ayla was set upon embracing the man that finally looked upon her and saw her. But before even a step could be taken, Ayla watched in bewildered surprise as the joy disappears and his face grows slack. Fear flooded her every thought the moment the man fell back, and she was near shouting his name, surprised by the reaction. But quick words from the elf near her halted the words upon her lips.
"Leave him..."
Those two words were enough. She remained where she was, watching as another that had witnessed moved to gather the unconscious man, carrying him toward the familiar room. For a long moment, she just stood there, staring blankly. And so she would have remained, had the sight of Azuros not caught her attention. In silence, she moved toward him, all intentions set on embracing the elf, uttering only two short words before she moved to follow the figure taking the unconscious Jorokar elsewhere.
"Azuros..."
"...We succeeded."
Far off, in the depths of a cave, the powerful orc shamaness rose from the fur on which she sat, and began to pace. Something was not right. Her plans would go well, she knew, and yet this night she felt unsettled.
After pacing in brooding meditation, she walked back to a separate room- her sleeping quarters. No other dared to enter this room. Her staff echoed the only sound in the stony halls as it fell in steady cadence with her steps. The opened the door and walked in, searching the room briefly in a way which only mages understand. As her awareness extended to the opposite wall, she found the source of her discontent. A small wooden box, covered in runic symbols long forgotten, stained with blood. The orcess set her similarly adorned staff aside, and took the box into her hands, lifting the lid.
The contents of the box would not be seen by untrained eyes, but the orc knew what she sought. Her anger grew, however, when she found that it was not there.
A roar of anger filled the caverns, and the surrounding mountains trembled with a surge of power.
After pacing in brooding meditation, she walked back to a separate room- her sleeping quarters. No other dared to enter this room. Her staff echoed the only sound in the stony halls as it fell in steady cadence with her steps. The opened the door and walked in, searching the room briefly in a way which only mages understand. As her awareness extended to the opposite wall, she found the source of her discontent. A small wooden box, covered in runic symbols long forgotten, stained with blood. The orcess set her similarly adorned staff aside, and took the box into her hands, lifting the lid.
The contents of the box would not be seen by untrained eyes, but the orc knew what she sought. Her anger grew, however, when she found that it was not there.
A roar of anger filled the caverns, and the surrounding mountains trembled with a surge of power.