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Current Major Accords:
You desired safe passage in the far jungle for the pirates and their captain Davidge, your accorded mortal, and accorded this with a two-crowned earth spirit who desired in return that you protect the altars and the shining stones from those of non-Aniunakei blood as it must. The duration of this accord was set to end at the next sunset.
This Accord is Blood Sealed by a mutual trade of Fifteen Vital Cruor, as dual witnessed by the Oasis and the Abyss. [Zero infractions weaken this Accord]

An as of yet named bitter sea spirit accorded with you for the desire of its freedom in the form of the destruction of Ijana's sacred knife before you leave this unnamed island. It's payment was the negotiated safe passage of the pirates upon these waters, and a secret of the sea to be given after the knife has been destroyed.
This Accord is Blood Sealed by Fire, Water, and a mutual trade of Twenty-Five Vital Cruor, as dual witnessed by the Silent Torrent and the True Abyss. [Zero infractions weaken this Accord]

A pirate captain named Davidge Gansaul desired aid in pacifying his ally named Blackwren and you covenanted to aid him at your discretion for a daily tithe of six cruor and the consecrated blood of all he slays and all their souls, with a further condition for possible extensions for his desires with costs to be decided as he mentions them.
This Accord is Blood Sealed by Fire and Fourteen Vital Cruor, as witnessed by the Abyss. [Zero Infractions weaken this Accord]

Relevant Stats:
Current Vital Cruor: 48/??. [HP/Influence]
Primeval Breath: 0/?.
Maturation: 44/54. [Cumulative weight of Soul Aspects]

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Upwards to the great slanted abysses of Cloudseers’ gaze you emit a desire for some clarification on his proposals, with an emphasis on what it’s asking for the secrets it holds or the blessings it may grant.

“Kin parasite, destroyer,” he echoes the repetition gravely through the cold abyss, though you find yourself slightly less pained as his focus minutely abates. “If desiring more knowledge, three questions to each fragment of the first storm, as before.” He turns his abyssal gaze to refocus on something distant, pausing for a period of time that tests your patience. “Yet might you not wish for knowledge, might yet you seek the wisdom of secrets, or the power of blessings.” With another simple emanation you ask for clarity, and he pauses another long moment to consider the answer.

“Secrets are our sacred spiritual rites, they are not to be shared easily, and never with mortals,” he grants a vision alongside the small sky spirit from before, and the sea spirit who promised you one of its own secrets for breaking Ijana’s knife, with a clear emanation of stern admonishment to the actions of each. “Yet of darkness born we are I will allow it. A secret of abyssal access, to emerge into the place of our origins, for given fragments of the first storm; five. Promised life; three. I will share no others until you,” he pauses, letting the echo traverse across the misty abyss, “mature.”

“Blessings,” he continues without letting you get an emanation in edgewise, “are measures of granted power given through sacred rites. Unwise it would be to grant anything of my innermost natures to you,” he shifts his abyssal gaze closer, your own darkness within the cooling abyss shrinking as a piercing pain envelopes your smoky limbs. “Yet greatly unwise to grant the empowerment of my sheltering dark, deeply contrary to your own searing nature,” he finishes, the distinctly spiritual pain leaving your form as his words continue their echo.

“Yet bless you with a Call I may. By a secret of the supreme primordial abyss, of its unbinding dark, of unremitting clemency, for given fragments; nine. You may call upon my aid for tasks numbering,” he pauses as the cold echoes grow deeper, “three.” He levels his eyes, or more accurately the reflection of them, to your solid searing darkness in expectancy of your answer, still only emitting a grave wisdom alongside his stern abyssal gaze.

>>>Soul Aspects: http://pastebin.com/fxEm5B80
>You prefer to sacrifice an aspect for questions, three questions to each weight of an aspect. (specify one or more aspects, further options provided + write-in’s)
>You’ll take his deal for a secret of Abyssal Access for aspects weighing up to five and three vital cruor. (specify soul aspects)
>You’ll take his proposal of blessing you with a Call of his aid for three tasks. (specify soul aspects)
>Something else/An addition. [Write-In]

>>424525
>>You’ll take his deal for a secret of Abyssal Access for aspects weighing up to five and three vital cruor. (specify soul aspects)
23.HOPE BETRAYED AND UNMADE [Weight of 3]
6.SEIZING LUSTS
7.JOVIAL SLAUGHTER

>>424621
>writing!

>Maturation: 44/54 & Vital Cruor: 48/??.
>TO; Maturation: 39/54 & Vital Cruor: 45/??.

You emit your desire for his secret of abyssal access, and recalling the memories with ease you reach within your darkness and take hold of your aspects seizing lusts and betrayed hope, the jovial slaughter all rounding up to a weighty offering. Urging the small amount of vital cruor to the abyssal gaze of Cloudseer you feel all of them vanish into the abyss, though you feel more deeply they’ve been shorn across a great distance.

Soul to soul and powerfully urged, Cloudseer grants a stern vision of a misty feather edged darkness, carving five small holes into the ground in a rough small circle, urging the barest amounts of vital cruor into each hole. The darkness then centers itself within the five points and with focus closes each of its four abyssal eyes one after another. The emanations alongside its closing eyes are focused entirely on a deep and serene abyss with undercurrent of sacredness and eternity. As it closes the eye you feel innately to be its will and mind the world within the small circle darkens, and then as it closes its last eye the form vanishes.

>New Secret Gained.
>Abyssal Access: Engage this rite with a sacrifice of five vital cruor upon a ritual circle, and you will enter the Abyss.

All in all it’s a very simple ritual, or seems to be, though you inwardly ponder that perhaps it’s simple because it is a place of your nature, and at this your secret knowledge seems to agree.

“When within the abyss first seek a guide by urging your desire through the dark. Mention my title and you will not be harmed. Do not bring mortals with you. Do not invite other spirits with you,” he sternly advises, cold gaze piercing your senses as before with another long pause. “Your accord with the mortal will take you to where spirits indulge godly conceits. Beware their domains. Yet more beware their devout. If there is nothing else you wish, then of darkness born may our confluence end,” he finishes with a certain echo.

>Is there anything else you wish from this engagement, Dark Spirit?
>You’d still like to sacrifice an aspect for questions, three questions to each weight of an aspect. (specify aspect(s), further options provided + write-in’s)
>You’ll take his proposal of blessing you with a Call of his aid for three tasks. (specify soul aspects)
>You’re set for now, return to the chamber of confluence and your accorded mortal.
>Something else/An addition. [Write-In]

>>424783
>>You’re set for now, return to the chamber of confluence and your accorded mortal.
Thank him.

>>424807
>writing!

>>424807
Seconding. Kindness is underrated.

>>424902
>writing even more kindness!

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You emit a clear though of gratitude for the secret and confluence, which to your surprise he returns, although very gravely and with a heavily weighted acknowledgement. As before you feel a force weaken around your form and in short order you’re looking around the chamber of confluence, the two-crowned earth spirit nearby looking slightly drained and keeping a rather good distance from Cloudseer’s low black altar.

“The mortals were careful,” he speaks to you, silver eyes upon the forms of Davidge and the remaining crewmen, all examining the spoils they’ve already packed from the altars. You must have been in confluence for much longer than you’d thought, though the men appear largely unharmed aside from their previous experiences and the earth spirit close by seems sedate for the moment. Deeply you still feel the same emanations from the spirit as before, the sense of betrayal and loathing he emitted to the black altar very pronounced and continuous.

Turning your gaze around you see some offerings still remaining upon the unusable altars, a grey metal dagger below you former inky companion and a set of yellow discs left untouched below the ancient mural of Rurua catching your attention. It’s likely they decided not to take the risk, or Davidge insisted very clearly that they don’t. Regardless, the earth spirit seems to give you an inquiring look with many nuanced emanations as you hear Brian across the chamber speaking of their newly attained loot.

“Magi writwork, and old too,” he speaks low, pointing to the inscribed gnarly driftwood that had been by Akiah’s altar. “The kind you drip blood on and drop into the sea. Never seen these kinds, too complex, too large. Maybe summons storms, or sea monsters, or worse,” he points to the one you imbued with the slightest amount of cruor, “that one’s been activated, don’t drop it anywhere near water.” He finishes, though inwardly you wonder how he can tell. His soul doesn’t feel particularly strong, in fact it feels weaker than Davidge’s shattered soul, yet he continues with confidence.

“Silks from the far northeast mainlanders and Ulari steel. Different sides of the world,” he speaks low with distinct emanations of curiosity, the men around him giving rapt attention to his appraisals while Davidge looks distantly through the darkness to you. Not to you, you note with more focus, as his eyes remain locked very completely upon the earth spirit, who returns the look with a sharp and merciless grin. Right, you’re still granting him your spiritual sight. Though inwardly you’re certain it doesn’t matter, their safety has been accorded for and emitting the thought to him he acknowledges it with the slightest nod, though he holds his pistol tighter and keeps his glare steady.

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“From all ‘round the world,” Brian continues, emanating a deeper curiosity himself, “no idea what the yellow rocks are for. Might be something for a collector.” He sets the last of the items into a sack, the grey metal weaponry being held by the pirates- though they seem to struggle to maintain hold of them, you note it seems to take two of them to pick up the grey metal spear. You recall with some subdued dread that the stone skeletons of the swamp wielded their similar weapons with ease, while the younger pirate from before stirs the party with a question.

“So what’s your estimate, first mate?” He fumbles the question at Brian while the older man gives him a cross look, and from the older pirate’s soul you feel distinct emanations of some subdued admonishing violence, then he cuffs the younger man hard and quickly, which prompts Davidge an interruption.

“That we can figure out later,” he speaks distantly as the younger pirate nurses his head. “We have what we came for. Carry it carefully and return to the ship,” he adds coldly, gaze still remaining on the earth spirit. Brian seems to be the only one who follows his gaze, though you note he only looks at the darkness, surely seeing nothing. He reaches to something hanging around his neck, though secured beneath his shirt, and you feel the barest loss of vital cruor. Brian then begins looking between you and the silver eyed earth spirit, not meeting either of your gazes, though you feel certain he’s somehow become aware of you.

He stands aside Davidge as the remainder of the party file out of the chamber and begin making the long trek back through the red temple, matching his captain’s look as well as he can.

“What’re ya thinking?” He asks honestly and at a whisper, only speaking when the others have gained a good distance from them, to which Davidge responds by turning away and exiting the chamber.

“If twelve of my men were the real exchange for that treasure,” he answers coldly while Brian follows his gait. You flit gracefully forward with the intention to leave the chamber, following behind Davidge, but the earth spirit stops you with an emanation of its own curiosity.

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“You spoke that you wished for freedom,” he begins solidly, to which you emanate a genuine desire for the merit. “Why,” he demands more than asks, silver gaze aligning very certainly with your twin red-tinged abysses. “The sea one said you struck an accord to free it. Then you speak of trying to free me. Why,” he demands further, “for what greater purpose? For what are you demanding in return?” He finishes, emanating the same testing undercurrents as before. You feel he is extremely expectant of an answer, and though his innermost soul still carries the undirected loathing you feel him suffuse the world with unhidden suspicion towards your form, alongside some very clear doubts.

>Emit that your goal is to free spirits from their ancient bonds.
>Emit that’s it’s just favorable circumstance, you bargained safe passage for one of its secrets and its freedom.
>Emit that you’ve no reason to clarify your intentions to it.
>Emanate nothing, and simply depart.
>Something else more specific.

>>425101
>Emit your goal to free spirits from their ancient bonds
I'm all for spiritual unification.

>>425101
>>Emit that’s it’s just favorable circumstance, you bargained safe passage for one of its secrets and its freedom.
Just trying to stay alive and make sure we don't have enemies.

>>425101
>>Emit that’s it’s just favorable circumstance, you bargained safe passage for one of its secrets and its freedom.
The memories of our kind is long, as is our grudge when wronged. why leave one unhappy if we can not? Also if I free you the mortal I am accorded to can loot the alters and stones. I am very curious about them.

>>425101
>Emit that’s it’s just favorable circumstance, you bargained safe passage for one of its secrets and its freedom.
To make friends!

>writing

The emission of your answer is clear and succinct, undertoned with only your genuine desires. The idea is simple, and being accorded to the earth spirit you enhance it with a vision; the circumstance of parleying for your mortals demanded that you bargain their safe passage, and in return the desperate spirit of the sea promised one of its secrets for the notion alongside its freedom. You emit this with the vision of your deal and sealing, and the pirates rowing their smaller boats over the waters. The earth spirit in return emits something cruel and broken, catching you off guard, though as it doesn’t clarify at your asking you elect to continue.

You emit that staying alive and not making enemies is also of great concern, and alongside an emission of continual friendliness that these actions certainly outweigh deeply spiritual conflicts. Further positing the idea that your kind, emphasizing each your spiritual natures, have long memories and that you’d rather not establish grudges and make other spirits displeased when you don’t have to. To this it gives you a blank, confused stare.

“Naïve,” it says, emanating inwardly lost feelings, though the thoughts are not discernable. “Look around,” it demands, and you do, the faded murals and withered red confluence chamber emitting the same overpowering sacredness as it always has. “Results of spirits working in kind,” he solidly insists, “spirits who desired what you speak of.” He emits some nuanced angers, though you turn to another thought.

You temper the idea with a clarification that your accorded mortal will be free to take the small remainders of the altars, and that due to your own curiousness this is also something you desire. After a pause and a nearly frowning silver gaze, the earth spirit grants you a vision of the small single-crowned earth spirit, flowers taken and cruor drained, and the reflection of your use of dire imbuement in its struggle- the attainment you took from the small earth spirit. It emits another vision of watching your dance while it stalking and killing the pirates, and its knowledge speaking of how only the small sky spirit would share that power with you, though the undercurrent to the thought carries a powerful fear. Lasts, it grants a vision for your red-tinged abyssal gaze that hides your emanations alongside a feather faced nod towards the great mural of your inky companion.

“We do have long memories. Those are his eyes,” he adjusts his posture, rising to a prowling stance, “what you emit of your soul does not match your actions,” he pauses while the ancient red stones rumble slightly, the confluence chamber vibrating with pulses of spiritual power, “not completely.” Before you emit clear visions of your memories for each action he cuts you off as the stones below you erupt and force your flight. You emit, solidly, the idea of word bound to soul and your mutual accord.

“Our accord,” he answers, maintain his gaze upon you through the perfect dark of the chamber, “is for the safe passage of those pirates and your protection of these altars.” He stands up tall, silver gaze shining for a short moment. “Our accord speaks nothing of your safety. As spoke I have before, easily trapped darkness, we play no longer.” You return an emission distinctly that the accord you proposed did include your own safety alongside the safety of your accorded allies. “Yet those conditions are not what we sealed,” he returns cheerlessly, “naïve darkness.” Somewhat at a loss for words you emit the idea previously, of genuinely wanting to see the spirit free.

“You might. You might not. Those eyes have never been held by spirits speaking truth. You spoke, traded, with the great betrayer,” he takes a more solid stance while you note the stones around the exit erupting to close it from above and below- and very quickly, you’re almost sure you can’t make the distance even at your fastest. “You carry something else I can use to free myself. It will be costly for me, against my own nature.” He finishes solidly, prowling closer to you while the chamber exit closes in erupting red stones. Rethinking the details of your accord, and how similar it is to Davidge’s in which mutual safety was not mentioned, you consider your options as the predatory earth spirit advances beneath your flight along the rumbling stones.

>>>Current Vital Cruor: 45/??
>You’ve had enough of this nonsense, attack it in earnest with your searing darkness.
>Emit a greater clarification or idea, or perhaps visions and certain emanations. (write-in)
>Emit some idea of a bargain, though it’ll have to be convincing. (write-in)
>Don’t let it get any sort of initiative; use Induced Aeon to flee the chamber within the frozen time.
>Something else much considered. (write-in)

>>425530
>>Emit a greater clarification or idea, or perhaps visions and certain emanations. (write-in)

The Earth spirit attacking us the second time, us trading for the secret with the skyjana. WE honor our deals, the spirit and words as best we can. Could we be duplicitous? Easily. However it is much less work to simply negotiate into a position of strength, then follow through on what was promised. It encourages repeat accords and discourages enemies from attacking, those that do, suffer for it greatly.

>>425575
Exactly this.

>>425530
Supporting this >>425575
The earth spirit is forgetting about how the Old hunter already made peace with the pirates and that we are only accorded with the Mage to deal with threats outside of the island. We honor our agreements and honor the people who accorded with us, except that old healer of course we don't like her that much.

>>425575
>>425589
>>425596
>Oh boy.

Alright, I'm gonna need three rolls of 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>425620
Negotiations a go!

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>425620

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>425620
No problem, we'll get 90's like always.

>>425630
>>425633
>>425635
>w r i t i n g

>>425635
O-oh. I see how it is dice gods.

You emit clear and distinct visions to the prowling earth spirit; the smaller single-crowned spirit named Dani attacking you a second time and your battle, and you note the stones closing around the entrance slow, and so further your vision with a trade for with the small sky spirit with a treasure for a secret. You emit, soul to soul and resounding throughout the sacred red chamber, strong enough that you feel it grabbing the attentions of the pirates who’ve distanced themselves from the rumbling with haste, your own supreme feeling of honor to the very spirit of the deals and words as truly as you can.

The earth spirit halts at this, the vibrations not fading but its form remaining still as it considers your thoughts. You note with the odd strength of your emanation one of the altars, the one beneath the three-ringed light-like creature of what the earth spirit called Ohkoa, a small reflection of honorable words, though it’s faint and you only barely caught it- and you feel very certain the inwardly focused earth spirit hasn’t noticed it in the slightest. Noting its hesitation you emit further that you’ve had every opportunity to be duplicitous- but you’ve preferred to negotiate yourself into a position of strength, and earn trust while following through with the details.

“That means nothing,” he speaks with haste, though solidly, silver gaze cast downwards and words spoken half from its form and half through the temple’s stone. “Spirits seal deals with world witnessed curses. Have you not thought why?” Ignoring its question for the moment you emit, clearly, that to you it means a great deal more than nothing- it means an encouragement of repeated accords and the discouragement of others attacking you, recalling easily that it has indeed worked out so far. You emit a great remembrance that those who have attacked you suffer greatly.

“Suffering issued to those weaker than you. I am not, naïve darkness,” he pauses with the extension, turning his head up and locking his silver gaze to your form. You note the stone regain its haste in closing around the entrance, and so emit strongly alongside visions that the old hunter Uluwehi made peace with your accorded mortal and that you’re only accorded with him to deal with threats outside the island- an even greater stressor on your honoring of agreements eliciting another faint reflection from the altar beneath Ohkoa.

“You are mistaken in thinking their struggles matter to me, warm dark, mistaken in thinking mortal ideas of honor matter to spirits,” he echoes through the stones of the chamber, though you feel very clearly this is something of a deeply sensitive notion to him, though he doesn’t clarify with any visions and likely won’t due to the powerful decree upon his form.


You further, slightly repeating, the same thought with the more important fact that you’ve honored your agreements with those you’ve covenanted, always, and grant visions in turn with each of your previous accords, but he cuts them off with a shake of his feather faced gaze- though you note the stone around the entrance has halted again, but feel some inner dread burgeon as there’s only a sliver of an opening remaining. You feel him ponder a question, a question with a very complete and nearly abyssal depth.

“Few of the ancients and their natures are unknown to me,” he speaks with pensive focus upon your form, while you wonder at how long he’d been subservient to the Aniunakei. “What is your first memory?” He asks, staring into your twin-abysses as all the red temple around you quiets to a deathly standstill. You emit inwardly that it is the memory of your second-eye, which you gained by Taking something, though your instincts have yet to speak of the details. Between the solid stare of the two-crowned earth spirit and the oddly responsive altar under the mural of Ohkoa, you ponder your options and the honor with which you’ve acted.

>Emit the truth, you Took something- though you don’t know what.
>Emit something like the truth, a place of dark fire and powerful searing darkness.
>Evade the question with your own. (write-in)
>Some other answer, vision, or concentration of emanations. (write-in)
>The situation is getting more dire, perhaps you’ll flee by inducing an aeon.
>Something very much considered or additional. [Write-In]

>>425817
>>Emit the truth, you Took something- though you don’t know what.
After that my first conscious memory was the huntsman waking me to save his people.

>>425817
>Emit the truth, you Took something- though you don’t know what.

>>425817
>>Emit the truth, you Took something- though you don’t know what.
This might end badly, but at least we might be gaining Ohkoa's favor by being honest and such.

>>425822
>>425834
>>425843
>writing!

You emit simply that your first memory is that you Took something, followed by the tribal huntsman Uluwehi according you to save his people from the pirates. As you remain flying amongst the perfect dark of the chamber he thrusts one sharply clawed limb into the stone.

“I see,” he speaks solidly from the chamber walls, ceiling, and every surface except the great murals and altars, the entrance crashing shut with one last burst of spiritual power. “I must not let you leave this place with your mind remaining.” He resonates spiritual power throughout the chamber, forming red pillars that crisscross through the air, though you evade them easily as they slowly form great solid beams of stone, which he then hops upon and up to your flying form. You note that the feeling from Ohkoa’s altar increases, though you ponder why you’ve received no response from Cloudseer’s altar, though innately you feel certain he’d be capable of seeing what’s going on.

“Searing dark, of whom I know,” he begins with focus, four clawed limbs poised carefully upon one of the great newly formed stone limbs interspersed throughout the room, “having confluence with the betrayer, having taken something, my decision to keep you here is correct,” he finishes firmly, then leaps out of your sight faster than you can follow as the red stones waver in his wake. You feel his emanations clearly at first, but soon they afford you little in guessing his location as the stone begins to match them, and he affords you little time to elect a response.

>Trapped, and now hunted;
Please roll me three 3d20+30 [Jána of the Night(Perfect Dark)]+30 vs. a DC of 75 [Jána of the Earth(Stone Dominion+??)] for your initial defense.

Rolled 4, 18, 15 + 30 = 67 (3d20 + 30)

>>425910

Rolled 12, 19, 13 + 30 = 74 (3d20 + 30)

>>425910

Rolled 3, 4, 17 + 30 = 54 (3d20 + 30)

>>425910
Well jeez, time to get wrecked.

>>425927
>>425933
>>425950

Noting this,
>Use your Searing Affliction to;
>>>Current Vital Cruor: 45/??
>Spend 16 Vital Cruor for a Superb Success.
>Spend 6 Vital Cruor for a Success.
>Spend 2 Vital Cruor for a Failure.
>Spend nothing and take the Awful Failure.

>>425953
>>Spend 6 Vital Cruor for a Success.

>>425953
AH, correction. It would take 18 Vital Cruor for a Superb Success.

>>425953
>>Spend 6 Vital Cruor for a Success.
We'll get our revenge once we dodge. Maybe later we can ask Mad Science if we can consume this guys cruor or something.

>>425953
>Spend 6 Vital Cruor for a Success.

>>425955
>>425962
>>425974
>Noting the majority; writing!

You flit your form hard through the dark aided by your wings, seeing the barest flashes of two floral crowns and a sliver streak between the red beams surrounding you. You feel him for one clear moment as he soars through the air behind you, and wreath the dark around your form to avoid the attack just barely while he crashes hard but not painfully into a beam in front of you.

Certain in your evasion you flit further away- just as two of the great diagonal pillars waver their forms and crash inwards upon you, find yourself forced to activate the affliction along your embered darkness to lessen the impact through quickened searing, smoking the half-formed stone as you’re nearly crushed between them.

“As I spoke before,” echoes the earth spirit’s voice through the stone you narrowly escaped, “I play no longer,” and alongside this he grants you a vision alongside a spiritual grantation- through your accord. You see the world as he’s seeing it, and see your own darkness flitting through and between the stone beams, a deep spiritual awareness enhanced by the ancient red structure. It ends in an instant, returning your awareness to only the dark of the chamber and the rumbling leaps of the two-crowned earth spirit, while you consider your many options of attack.

You ponder gravely that you’re already beginning to lose, and he still retains a great deal of cruor you’re your previous fight and he’s not been harmed here, keeping his distance with fast leaps. You feel the world being infused with a familiar ancient power that emanates supreme feelings of elation from the stone of the chamber. It is the Primeval Breath, and an extreme amount of it- but very dissimilar to your use of it, though you feel it has an extremely greater weight and the chamber’s intonations of sacredness almost become an undercurrent to the power as it pulses across all the red beams- the half-formed stone wavering as one and at his command.

“Become crushed, naïve warm dark,” speaks all the stone of the confluence chamber, except the altars and murals, while you very quickly decide a response. You note, as since you entered the chamber, the madness within you still remains strangely silent, though at your light beckoning it furthers a small though apprehensive idea. It accorded you to protect the altars, to prevent you from attacking them, but its decree is clearly stronger than the accord you sealed- sighs the distinctly mortal voice.

[-6 VC from Searing Affliction, -3 from attack.]
>>>Current Vital Cruor: 36/?? [Abilities: http://pastebin.com/fUbaui1h]
>Try to evade again, and counter with the night.
>Find and attack it directly, before you’re crushed.
>Seek an altar, (specify which), and pray/make an offering. (write-in emanations/offering)
>Induce an aeon and- (other action/write-in)
>Spirit, destroy one of the altars, and do so within the frozen time, so it may not stop you-
>Something else much considered or additional. [Write-In]

>>426080
>>Spirit, destroy one of the altars, and do so within the frozen time, so it may not stop you-
The one of darkness

>>426080
>>Spirit, destroy one of the altars, and do so within the frozen time, so it may not stop you-
What could possibly go wrong? We shouldn't attack Cloudseer or Ohkoa's though, lets attack a different one.

>>426080
How long would it take to enter the abyss?

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>>426080
>five, five awful typos, in spite of rereading.
>(pic)
When I make a google doc of this I'll make a note to correct these.

>>426100
According to the secret you would first need to carve out the five circles upon a surface and then imbue them with a total of five vital cruor, one to each, and then center yourself to the circle and close each of your eyes alongside the urging of your intention.

That would take, I'd say, two actions. Both of which the earth spirit would certainly try preventing you from engaging you in, unless of course you initiated the ritual in the frozen time.

>>426085
>>426097
Noting this, please vote between one of the following altars;
>>>Break your accord to protect the altars, inducing an aeon (costs four vital cruor) and destroying:
>Akiah's dead altar.
>Your former inky companion's, the now seething ocean darkness's altar.
>Cloudseer's black altar.
>Ohkoa's honor reflective altar.
>Rurua's dead altar.

>>>OR, you might vote for;
>Using Induced Aeon twice (Cost of 8 Vital Cruor) to flee into the Abyss.

>>>Or even:
>Write-In a further alternative/combination.

>>426126
>Using Induced Aeon twice (Cost of 8 Vital Cruor) to flee into the Abyss.

>>426126
>>Akiah's dead altar.
Wait a sec, aren't we gonna get destroyed for breaking the accord? Maybe this is a bad idea.

>>426126
>>Using Induced Aeon twice (Cost of 8 Vital Cruor) to flee into the Abyss.

>>426126
>Escape into the Abyss.
We should definitely get stronger before fighting other spirits.

>>426155
We can probably take him, just need a good clean hit. Though exploring the Abyss sounds fun too.

>>426138
>>426142
>>426143
>>426155
>STOP! Darkjana time!
Alrighty then. Congrats on activating the first real landmine.

Now for something superbly related, please roll me three 1d100's best of three for your consecutive inducement of the frozen time.

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>426184

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>426184
>landmine.
Oh boy here we go. Now is when we should crit fail for maximum damage.

>>426204
Oh hey it worked. Thanks dice gods.

>>426204
>Sonuva-
>can still try for a crit if you'd like
>writing!

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>426184
might as well roll, probably too late though.

>>426238
>Good try though.
>still writing!

File: HUNGER [Weight of 28,438].png (529 KB, 500x721)

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmSbRDfgWpI

Certain in thought and determined in will, and within so small a moment as you grip upon a soul whilst dozens of red fully-formed stone pillars and beams collapse unto you, you urge outwards from your form misty consecrated cruor. The world ceases with a hard shift into colorless grey and you waste no time alighting to a more serene part of the chamber and carving tiny holes in the red stone, though it is difficult. You feel a deep and distant hunger draw closer, singular in its definition and effluence, the only sort you’ve ever felt within the frozen time.

You urge the barest amount of vital cruor into each minute carving and as you do the world shakes with a rushed return to motion- the sound and wind of the stone collapsing on the point you’d previously occupied completely shattering your concentration to the task, debris shattering all across the chamber and echoing as a crash far greater than any cannon your memories recall The earth spirit, not deterred by your sudden transportation, urges more of the elated breath through the stone upon your new position while you induce another aeon.

The pure feeling of hunger clarifies, no longer distant, as you see it gnarled twisting limbs through the chamber, through the frozen time, towards your ritual circle. Simultaneously within your aspect of madness you feel extreme cries of mortal and spiritual fear, though you’re more concerned with figuring out what you’re looking at. As you close your second eye in initiation of the ritual, it screeches. Against all logic spiritual and innate, the sound reaches and pierces your soul alongside a vision of your red-tinged abyssal gaze.

As it nears and you feel your inducement of an aeon fading, then seeing see around it and etched into the frozen grey world, evaporates misty consecrated cruor. You feel it is the inducement of an aeon, very akin to your own, and the frozen time does not abate. It passes the stopped earth spirit as you focus hurriedly on the ideas of serene eternity communicated by the secret of abyssal access. Once more you see it induce an aeon, and then float closer, its form flowing right through the now grey pillars as though they’re no barrier to it, screeching pure hunger periodically. Closing your remaining eye you feel your form shorn away into the abyss, your emanations of serene eternity at last completing the ritual.

File: Skydark Guide.jpg (338 KB, 600x967)

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Before you is dark, perpetual and complete, and you feel yourself become at ease- even the mad aspect within you quieting to an even degree. Recalling Cloudseer’s advice, you urge a simple desire for a guide through the dark. Nothing happens, and so you repeat the action to an amount of times that feels infinite- though your secret knowledge speaks that the feeling is not true, it is a distortion of this place.

At last, as your urged desire for a guide finishes you see a form sparkle into existence before you, its body backed by a sliver of spiritual moonlight. Severe soulful exhalations issue forth from what you feel, innately, should be a spirit, but it is unlike any spirit you’ve encountered, much more akin to the terrible hungering thing you arduously escaped within the frozen time. The soulful exhalations, not simply emanations, issue from its soul to yours consummate and venerable impressions suspended between and pushed through your form as an intense urging of ideas- of existence beyond skydark, of darkness between the lights of stars, of the supreme primordial abyss. The ideas are not painful, like those alongside Cloudseer’s piercing gaze, but serene. You further note it’s not wholly dark, somehow carrying different natures and a sparkling lightness along the limbs cloaked by its starry darkness.

The distinctly mortal fear within your aspect of madness surges hard, nearly compelling you to flee from the creature as it raises a half-lit hand and soulfully exhales an urging of your complete annihilation alongside the abyss beginning to constraint your form- to which you respond with a faint vision of four slanted abyssal eyes trailing above clouds, an intonation of severity and grave wisdom completing the thought. It lowers its hand, the darkness around you no longer gripping, while it turns away with a soulful exhalation of your pursuit.

And it is pursuit, you note, as its form rushes forwards through the abyss and you feel forced to focus all your senses and power on wreathing yourself forwards so you not left behind- and it seems to nearly try to leave you behind, though it only maintains the soulful exhalation it had before. You have no sense of how much time has passed, or if it has passed at all, as you find your solid searing darkness alight upon an amorphous bubbling surface, the thing you pursued vanishing from your senses completely. I have no knowledge of this place- a mortal voice sighs within you. This is the outermost abyss, small one, the birthplace but not home of our kin- sighs an oddly spiritual voice within you. As you ponder some options, a further figure reveals itself from the constantly reforming abyss.

File: Vesilte.jpg (681 KB, 1520x790)

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"Oh,” posits a curiously light voice, "one of you. You are very welcome here. This is the Vesilte,” the odd spirit waves a great glowing tool to indicate the surroundings, “I stand guard. My forgiveness if the guide preferred your destruction, it can’t, but it does try,” it adds the afterthought innocently, though you feel its soul emits nothing. “If you wish leave, urge so to the dark, same as much for any other place within our bountiful realm.” It indicates the bubbly tumultuous world with a flourish.

“Recall a destination, and I would advise this dearly," the airy voice gains slowness as the form sits upon a constantly tumultuous surface, “ensure it is of no place within another’s dominion.” It remains seated, observing your solid searing darkness and emitting nothing, while you consider your options. The madness within you, very suddenly and completely, falls silent- and at your beckoning it returns nothing.

“If you have obligations, mortal or otherwise,” the airy voice begins in quick, clear, sonorous tones, “you may find it troublesome to remain here for long. As short is much as long is such within this precious Vestile, it is subject to laws much greater than the mortal coil,” it finishes, resting the odd tool across what you presume is its lap or some imitation of it. You recall your inky companion saying much the same, and ponder your next course of actions within the outermost abyss.

>Urge to the dark a memory of the island, Davidge, and the pirate ship- you’ve got stuff to do.
>Explore a little, urge something that might lead you to another location within the abyss. (write-in urgings)
>Actually, you wanna ask this thing here something. (write-in)
>Something else very much considered. [Write-In]

>>426361
>>Urge to the dark a memory of the island, Davidge, and the pirate ship- you’ve got stuff to do.

>>426361
>>Actually, you wanna ask this thing here something. (write-in)
What is Vesilte, what is this thing's nature. What sort of entity can induce aeon's and hunger so much?

be polite.

>>426361
>>Something else very much considered. [Write-In]
Might be a bad time to ask, but I want to ask the mad friends if they can tell us about the hunger in the frozen time. Shit was scary. That can wait till we get back if they insist on staying quiet though. Maybe we can urge to visit a place that's empty and doesn't belong to anyone so we can do some exploring.

>>426363
>>426367
>>426374
Hm.

Will write for;
>asks what is the Vesilte, what is this thing's nature, and what sort of entity can induce aeon's and hunger so much

But between the others, and for after these questions, I'll pose one further vote of;
>Urge to the dark a place of emptiness, solitude, and unbelonging, so you can explore.
>Urge to the dark a memory of the island, Davidge, and the pirate ship.

>>426390
>Urge to the dark a memory of the island, Davidge, and the pirate ship.

>>426390
>Urge to the dark a place of emptiness, solitude, and unbelonging, so you can explore
Seems like a waste to just leave as soon as we get here.

>>426390
>>Urge to the dark a memory of the island, Davidge, and the pirate ship.

>>426397
>>426402
>>426409
>writing! (well, continuing to write)

File: Vesilteguard.jpg (717 KB, 1134x1750)

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As politely as you can manage you emit to it small but definite questions of this place, of spiritual natures, and what that terrible hungering being was.

“The nature of our illustrious guide, my own, of my neighbor, or of this place,” the airy voice asks gently, though continues to answer each in turn, “as it is from my perceptions, which ought not be pursued with certainty, our guide is a spirit of what ancient mortals called the shade cast by stars- you know it, yes? Skydark. The last of its like, I believe with no certainty, and bound to service by our beauteous realm.” It seems to unfold the tool upon its lap, though emits nothing further as it speaks.

“The Vesilte is what you feel around us for this very long moment. It is not always this way, more it is not always, our presence here and our urging of an entrance is as much its reasoning for existence as hunger is for,” it flourishes with barely imperceptible limbs, many more than one you note, but does not clarify any meaning.

“What you encountered was what you may call a pure soul, much as such is mine. In the interstice with which you formed a bond to the mortal coil from our realm I had to battle it for,” it pauses its sonorous tones, mimicking a thinking gesture with its head against the semisolid not-quite blade of its odd glowing tool, “at least as much as several centuries within the instance of your passing, as much as needed to prevent it entry into our realm,” you emit a clear apology to the fact, though its words seem impossible. “Fear not, it my duty, and little else breaks the tedium,” it answers lightly, “the creature only seeks what was stolen from it as the other pure souls of its kind, and I’d embark just as much as mine, as I seek much the same.”

“As for its prodigious size,” it airily continues, “might I propose a thought of mortal souls transgressing through spiritual realms, for many many ages, engaging in what I call bad luck,” it tilts its form for a moment, then rights itself with solidness, “those who embark upon fates beyond their capacity. Everasmuch the owner of that cursed amalgam within you.” The voice shifts from high and airy to low and severe, your mind recalling very certainly the same words spoken by your former inky companion, while your madness twists and shudders with distinctly mortal fear.

“Your moment draws nigh, this I promise,” it intones severely, not at you, while you leave it to its seated thinking- or what you guess it must be, as it remains largely indiscernible. “As for you, reborn dark, should you find what I seek and we become at odds,” it pauses, and then adopting an airy congenial tone, “the worst luck.” It waves with a dismissive gesture, nodding slightly to your form.

File: Two-Stranded Seajána.jpg (658 KB, 800x909)

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Trailing your searing form away from the creature, noting you cannot at all feel its gaze upon you whilst you turn away, you urge to the darkness an imitative memory of the far jungle, Davidge, and his pirate ship the Mad Jewel, though nothing happens. “Eyes,” posits the once again light tone of the thing, and so with a thought and feeling it quite innately, you attempt the act again by closing your eyes- and you feel your darkness wreathed and shorn across a dizzying distance and several eons passing in an instant.

Before you is the ship, the men and Davidge all loading the offerings from the small boats onto the larger vessel with care, the sea spirit resting on the sandy beach before you. You feel changed by the events, though can’t quite place what’s changed, and though they seem to have passed rapidly you refocus to your accord with the sea spirit and fly over the waves to Davidge’s vessel. The men are quiet and emanate many subdued fears, and you see the older pirate named pirate switch his gaze from the beach to the vague location of your form, the strange device hanging from his neck and hidden still emitting the slightest passing of vital cruor.

As the loading finishes Davidge walks into his cabin, and you follow in pace along his shadows. You urge simply that he ought to remain here or close to the island while you finish an important obligation, though he does not respond, instead sitting at his desk and with many nuanced thoughts.

“We’ll wait by the cove. Spirit,” he inquires meekly, “what was that crash? The entire temple shook, came alive, almost killed us.” You answer with a simple emanation of a deal gone awry, though it does not concern his safety- you urge that he was in no true danger at all, though inwardly wonder what the earth spirit had gotten up to in your long absence. Leaving him to his thoughts,you exit the cabin and flit gracefully through the night towards the fungi jungle, feeling more than seeing the light-red feather faced gaze observing your form with glee from within the overgrowth of the far jungle.

>Gonna call it here for tonight, slowing down something fierce.
And with that, thank you all for playing! The session’ll continue tonight at the same time, will post on twitter shortly.
>As for next time, we’ll see how you deal with fulfilling the sea spirit’s accord.

>>426491
>older pirate named pirate
>named Brian*

>Minor Housekeeping:
>>>Current Vital Cruor: 23. [-8 from Induced Aeons, -5 from Abyssal Access ritual.]

aand
>blackened chains unsealing
>entities rustled
>coffee affliction activated
>quest resuming in 1 hour!

Alighting yourself beneath the night canopy through the fungi illuminated jungle towards the Aniunakei village, you reflect on your uncertainties- namely whether you can trust what that thing said, and inwardly you question your recently quieted madness for details. It remains deathly silent, and at your further beckoning seems to shrink. I mustn’t- it speaks assuringly in mingled tones.

Returning you to the nearly silent buzzing of jungle insects you feel familiar thoughts emerge behind you, and half turning you see the small sky spirit gliding quickly to the ground with a summoned gust, rolling roughly across the forest undergrowth with mildly pained meeps until its motion ceases with a hard smack against the searing darkness of an outstretched leg. Emitting gratitude for your aid, it emits something you’d not expected- an apology for the actions of its kindred guardian, and a deep idea of old wounds and broken promises. With a quick switch it emits faint visions of the blue stone it indicated before, with the idea of word bound to soul.

Still suspicious of the creature’s intentions, mildly wondering how it found you again so quickly, you give a stern thought desiring clarity, particularly of what it’s actually asking you to do. You find your mind beset by enthusiastic visions of your searing dark holding the stone from one of Ijana’s pots, and your quick and readied destruction of it prior to leaving the island, and of its form soaring high into the air far away and above the fungi jungle alongside a large emanation of gratefulness and a clearly defined idea of freedom. It then emits that as before it will aid the strength of Davidge’s fading soul and give two more of its secrets to you, as well as further aid it will provide for your consummation of the accord.

File: Small Skyjána.jpg (172 KB, 1309x998)

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It grants a distinct vision; a four-winged spirit, and bolts of lightning across a rainy dark sky, with a thought that it can keep this spirit at bay while you take Ijana’s sacred knife for the sea spirit alongside a reflection of profound wisdom. It would be a difficult fight, you think, even with your newly gained flight. It tempers the idea very heavily that it can do nothing against the Healer herself, such is the power of its own guardianship, and that it can keep the dangerous sky spirit away for a great deal of time. With a thought, you focus your gaze to the small sky spirit and see that its chains are indeed the same massive bulks as the two-crowned earth spirit, emitting thoughts of a guardian and word bound to sacrifice.

It grants another idea, one distinctly absent from your accord with Davidge and the earth spirit, of mutual safety between you- of neither bearing hostilities towards each other for sunrises numbering six, though it tempers with a pleading undercurrent that this amount may be lessened or increased if you wish.

As it clings to the solid searing darkness of your leg it emits that it will also offer a favorable trade of cruor alongside this, twenty five mutual cruor for the deal itself, but with an additional fifteen granted to you upon the outset of the accord. Beneath the dark canopy and between its pleading gaze and the warming pale-lit fungi overgrowth around you, you consider the hopeful spirit’s proposal.

>Agree to accord with its stated terms.
>It’s desperate, so you’ll agree but with stricter thoughts. (write-in changes/additions to its proposals)
>Decline, you don’t want its aid for Davidge or dealing with the greater sky spirit, you’ll figure out something else.
>Before anything else, there’s something you’d like more clarity on. (write-in)
>Something else/An addition. [Write-In]

>>428141
>>Before anything else, there’s something you’d like more clarity on. (write-in)
If we were to break the stone, he'd be free to help us take the knife from the Healer yeah? I just can't see it being an easy thing to do unless she just leaves it lying around sometimes. Or is it the chains stopping him from interfering with her? In which case we're on our own. It sounds too good a deal to be true, but I think we should accept.

>>428168
>writing!

It thinks over your idea, propping itself half-perched and wobbling on a large fungi stalk, glowing motes of spores suffusing the night at its motions. It tilts its head one way, the stalk following with it, and then back again, repeating the motion back and forth until the stalk breaks and its small form tumbles to the ground. Held up by small gliding wings it looks up at you and nods that it can certainly aid you in acquiring the knife, perhaps even taking it from Ijana itself, if that’s the addition you wish it to commit to.

It confirms that it will be much less restricted after you break the stone, though it tempers the idea with caution that it cannot be in two places at once and would have to return to the village after distracting the greater sky spirit. With a steady thought it proposes that with its chains sundered by your action it will likely be able to best the greater sky spirit in combat, though it does not particularly wish destruction for the spirit, a long undercurrent of nuanced memories coloring the sentiment deeply.

At your thought, and testing an emanation of it, that its deal sounds too good to be honest it emits a stark spiritual vision of your solid searing form emitting throughout the red temple honorable intent behind words bound to soul, with an acknowledging confirmation that perhaps it does, and so it will be willing to offer one less or no secrets at all if it will mollify your concerns. Jabbing its small form slightly with a half-formed hand it further emits a vision of the far jungle, of many mortals led into traps or cut apart by vicious winds, and the rising and setting of many suns.

It tempers the vision with undercurrents of a deep weariness to the task it’s been decreed, and a hopeful idea that it will not have to continue for much longer.

>Agree to this newer accord, where he’ll help you take Ijana’s sacred knife after you break the blue stone.
>Decline, you’ll figure out something else along the way.
>Something else/An addition. [Write-In]

>>428255
>>Agree to this newer accord, where he’ll help you take Ijana’s sacred knife after you break the blue stone.
Sounds good enough, lets do it.

>>428255
>>Agree to this newer accord, where he’ll help you take Ijana’s sacred knife after you break the blue stone.

>>428291
>>428304
>affirmed and writing!

File: Great Stone Slab.jpg (374 KB, 1100x701)

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You affirm the proposal along a resurgence of the details while recalling that you don’t have fire as the small sky spirit leads you through the deep dark of the jungle to the oddly spiritual location of before, and although you’re making good time you feel the shifting of the night move forwards and recall that it may be a new day, though the sun is quite far off. Finding the clearing once again you note a conveniently lit torch awaiting you in the center before the stone. Giving a pointedly questioning abyssal gaze to the gliding spirit it returns a reflection of profound wisdom and hopeful anticipation, though you wonder how it managed to get this here, or perhaps it simply tricked a pirate to do so, or even one of the villagers.

Alighting yourself to a solid stance before the small fire positioned just above the murky waters the sky spirit faces you once more. It takes out two gems, both fashioned and emitting small reflections of its nature, alongside ideas of will and mind. Within the shallow waters below you it struggles to hold aloft its two treasures while you gracefully lay your searing darkness upon them.

The onset is slow, spiritual power building into a flood as the maelstrom and abyss cut soaring dark into the perfect night of the jungle around your forms. More than before, the dark wind cuts deep gouges into the trees as the searing dark burns each fresh wound while the murky water streams in a searing cyclone collapsing upon your forms. The world slows to a crawl and grows alight with extreme contrasts of saturated hues, the screaming storm and searing dark wind causing a curiously heavy dread to emerge from within your madness, though it quiets itself as the exchange of consecrated cruor completes. The storm very slowly dies, the abyss and afflicted wind slowing until the clearing returns to as it was before, though it’s scarred deeply by the sealing of your new accord.

>AN ACCORD IS STRUCK: As dual witnessed by the Devastating Maelstrom and the True Abyss.
>Vital Cruor +15
>>Current Vital Cruor: 38

File: Aniunakei_Village.jpg (372 KB, 1420x868)

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The stone, however, remains unmarred amidst the shredded foliage while the sky spirit hops and with a summoned gust bursts upwards through the canopy. Being accorded it follows your actions with ease as you grant it mild spiritual visions of your progression towards the village where you’d first accorded the trapped pirate Davidge.

The Aniunakei village isn’t quite the same as you left it, recent changes in activity marking odd paths between the root dwellings, pale fungi and torches illuminating what you feel to be every soul in the village collected into a half-circle central gathering, raised voices drawing the periodic attention of the younger hunters along the perimeter. You feel the great sky spirit above the canopy circling, or what you presume to be circling by its periodic emanations of watchful awareness, while you feel familiar emanations from the small sky spirit flying above the canopy to meet it.

You don’t sense the specifics of the exchange, but you feel soulful concern emit through the night from the greater sky spirit as the small sky spirit leads it away with ease. Wondering internally, you look between the gathered crowd and Ijana’s hut, noting that Ijana herself, alongside Nanali and Uluwehi, are gathered in the same half circle as the villagers afore the much smaller crowd of withered elders as one of them speaks. Even the vined earth spirit is there, with much more cruor than you’d last left it, though everyone appears distracted by their gathering. You note Ijana’s sacred knife is resting solidly within a small imitation of a sheath around her brush-clad uniform.

>Listen in to their arguments, as carefully as you can manage.
>Their mortal concerns don’t matter to you, go find the pot with the stone in Ijana’s hut.
>Something else much considered. [Write-In]

>>428511
>>Their mortal concerns don’t matter to you, go find the pot with the stone in Ijana’s hut.
Why waste a golden opportunity like this for some info? Lets clear this accord, easy as pie. Until things go horribly wrong.

>>428532
>writing!

Dismissing whatever the wildly gesturing old man in the center of the crowd may be saying you alight yourself quickly into Ijana’s hut, strange tools hanging from small vinelike roots along the ceiling and various pots aligned behind her short worktable along the walls of the single room dwelling. Each pot, individually, emits nothing. You feel you don’t need your secret knowledge to confirm that each are certainly being obscured, the deep and purposed lines painted upon them very reminiscent of the writwork upon the driftwood within the red temple.

The table itself retains its odd assortment of small tools, grinding implements and bowls, though stretched out upon its surface appears to be a large parchment- your aspects acknowledging it as a map of sorts. You see clearly tucked behind the largest pots the goal of your accord, small and colored with contrasting dark blues and bright purples, secured by taut reed ropes over its small lid. It emits nothing, and as you advance through the room and alight your form upon it you feel something of a nature akin to the small sky spirit within it.

Outside and very clearly you hear the rising of argument- this time from Ijana herself, her voice piercing the night as she awashes the jungle with emanations of supreme conviction. There is a mild back and forth between the other villagers as you feel her emanations increase- though they’re advancing upon the dwelling, and you feel her soul near, her pace slow and determined, though you feel some odd anticipation and quietness from the souls remaining in the center of the village. Testing the pot by tugging its ropes you find that although you have a good deal of vital cruor you can’t quite move it- in fact its weight feels superbly unnatural.

>Hide as best you can.
>Smash the pot and get the stone.
>Flee, you’ll return some other time.
>Something else very much considered. [Write-In]

>>428655
>>Smash the pot and get the stone.
Too late to turn back now. What could possibly go wrong?

Not seeing much of other options, you focus hard upon the small colorful pot and with two heavy searing edges you thrust them down upon and through the pots- smashing it loudly as the fragments steam at your assault and the taut rope emits an oddly subdued spiritual power- and the pot reforms completely, the blue stone still ensconced within, and a distinct feeling of Ijana’s stride quickening. Quickly, you set out to try again-

>Roll me 1d100 best of three…

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>428718
Perhaps, with great consideration, we can bessech the arcanist for help. A spirit's tools are at disadvantage against a curer's tricks, but magic fights upon even grounds, surely.

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>428718
Oh boy.

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>428731
Beseech, i obviously meant to type.
This ipad of mine is strange and old, it makes constant mistakes.

>>428731
>SONUVA-
>writing!
>can still try for a crit!

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With a searing rush you smash the pot again, flitting your limbs forward to grasp the blue stone- only for the pot to reform near instantly and shut out your grasp. You smash it again and wreath all the shadows around you forward in an attempt to keep the pieces apart, but still the pot reforms solidly. Refocusing on the ropes you try to sever them with your searing edge, and as you burn a smoky cut the lines upon the pot itself begin emitting the same oddly subdued spiritual power- and at this the ropes repair and reform as you cut them. As Ijana’s stride turns to a run and the souls of the villagers become focused upon the direction of her gait you beseech your madness for aid.

Nested wards, but not of a power I’m familiar with- a mortal voice sighs assuringly. Old Amrenian towers are reinforced similarly, some of our earliest works. But never as strongly intertwined as this, and if you lay your hands upon each I’ll attempt to show you why, spirit- it finishes in a rush. Alighting your solid searing darkness with one hand upon the taut rope and another upon the surface of the pot you feel your form hum and the incantation of ancient sacred words alongside the passing of a deeply arcane secret. Your nature- sighs the voice. Surge your nature into the wards, quickly- and you do so.

Your searing dark alights itself along specific lines of the pot perfectly, some crisscrossing in great detail and complementary to the searing dark edging itself from small points along the taut rope, each urged more by your madness than yourself, and the pot disintegrates entirely. Not quite grasping what’s occurred, you quickly grab the stone and turn to flee, but see a profusely sweating Ijana blocking the exit, emitting a savage determination with desperate undercurrents of

“Jána,” she snaps with a glare locked to your flitting dark, looking between the blue stone and your red-tinged gaze, eying the remnants of the colorful pot carefully. “Whatever it promised you is not worth it,” she declares, emanating deep nuanced fears and gripping her sacred knife, poising it against her hand as she stands wide to block her dwelling’s exit.

“Each of the guardians were sealed for good reason,” she vehemently intones, while you feel the souls of the villagers from the central gathering focus their interests upon her actions, and the soul of Nanali and the small earth spirit Dani beginning to move closer. Observing the blue stone in your grasp you note only subdued notions of tools and an overpoweringly strong word bound to sacrifice.

“It took many lives to stop that creature, do not release it, Jána,” she demands angrily, though with an even voice. Your madness proposes some other thoughts while you consider your options, noting Ijana’s sacredness emitting knife pulsing minute amounts of spiritual power as she rests it against her off hand.

>Don’t break the stone- break your accord.
>Complete this part of your accord- break the stone.
>It may be dangerous but perhaps you could induce aeons to flee this place, spirit-
>Give me an aspects weighting up to four, small one, and she will be no trouble-
>Something else very much considered. [Write-In]

>>428903
>desperate undercurrents of
>focus*

>>428904
>>Complete this part of your accord- break the stone.
Fuck it, we can take her.

>>428904
>>Complete this part of your accord- break the stone.

>>428904
>Complete this part of your accord- break the stone.
It took many lives as they once abused their power over the spirits.

>>428904
Ask her counter-offer.
While she is giving it, perhaps we can ask the sky spirit to come as swiftly as possible via our accord, so we have immediate help when we break the stone.

>>428926
>>428956
>>428957
>affirmed!

>>428962
This stalling measure can certainly be included prior to you breaking the stone.

And with that-
>writing!

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Mildly hesitant but still clinging to your commitment you emit some contempt for the actions of Ijana, or more accurately the actions of past Curer’s as they abused their power over spirits.

“Darkjána,” she begins severely, “you must know that not all spirits are trustworthy, that some are dangerous beyond knowing,” and at this you recall the subdued aspects of the small sky spirit, though the idea does not deter you much. “Our ancestors knew that. By the hands of Ohkoa and the roots of Vi-Rurua all Curer’s have been taught this. Spirits as that creature were sealed in desperate times, after it had devoured cities with cursed storms. It is why each of our guardians were forced their duties, they were too dangerous to leave alone. It took many sacrifices to contain them,” she finishes breathlessly.

Inwardly, and in spite of her words carrying undercurrents of desperate truth, you wonder if any of that is true at all- or just another mortal conceit. Through your accord you emit a desire for the presence of the small sky spirit as you feel Nanali stop in her tracks outside the house and the small earth spirit tread its vine like limbs beneath Ijana and into the dwelling, it’s beady yellow gaze looking first at you and then to the stone.

With rapidly fearful squeaks it gestures its vines and shakes its bulbous head and crown between the stone and your solid searing dark, emanating faint visions of certain destruction. Ignoring it you ask what she’d offer you in return for you, though you emit inwardly you do not want to break your recently formed accord.

“Jána, I will offer you what I must,” she says quickly, “against all my blood and all my soul as a Curer of the Aniunakei I will unbind you from the worst effects of whatever accord the ancient terror established with you, and we shall not become enemies, this I promise. Do not break that stone and the spirit will stay as it is now, without that sealing it is no such creature you would know,” she finishes with severely intoned respect, though still maintaining her glare and stance.

You feel the small sky spirit closing in upon the village, and its grants you vision of Davidge, and his soul restored to his previous strength- though at your inquiry of how it only grants a vision of the greater sky spirit. You note a consistently confused emanation awashing the fungi jungle distantly from the two-treasured one of the sky following behind it. It worked quickly- sighs a mortal voice within you. It may have expected this sort of outcome, small one, and my offer still stands- sighs a spiritual voice within you.

>Complete this part of your accord, and break the sealing stone.
>Accept Ijana’s proposal, breaking your accord to break the stone.
>Give me aspects weighting up to four, small one, and she will trouble us no longer-
>Something else quite much considered. [Write-In]

>>429084
>return for you
>return for your abandonment of the accord*

>>429084
>>Something else quite much considered. [Write-In]
Loosen some of it's bindings, not all of them but enough so that it may be more than it is now. Find a compromise.

>>429084
>>Something else quite much considered. [Write-In]
Can she somehow cancel out the mutual cruor thing? That's the only thing worth worrying about as far as we know. Still if Inky buddy was right then their people are pretty much doomed so it shouldn't matter much to release the sky spirit so long as we're safe. We should just smash the stone.

>>429084
>Something else quite much considered. [Write-In]
Could we somehow change the binding set in the stone?

>>429095
>>429126
>>429138
>writing!

>>429084
Break the stone

With a questioning emanation you inquire on the possibility of changing the binding within the stone, its conditions or its decree, to gain some sort of compromise, to all of which she slowly shakes her head.

“I know of no rituals to change decrees sealed so strongly,” she says honestly, maintaining her focus upon your form. Unfortunately, spirit, my studies upon this topic are rather barren, I’ve little idea myself. Only just now have I learned from this witch that it is possible to weaken accords, but given that- the mortal voice is suddenly cut off, the spiritual voice surging strongly. It is a trick to draw you closer to her, small one, she has avoided all direct lies with minced words- the voice cuts off again.

With another inquiry you emit the idea of canceling a specific part of the accord, namely the mutually sealed aspect of it, though her soul only emits focused nuanced thoughts in return. From the barest of your senses you begin to feel strange emanations, seeming birthed from the jungle airs and the darkness around you, each of some oddly familiar awareness, each focusing upon some odd measure of your being, and you feel a growing panic not related to the madness within you.

“We must do this quickly, Darkjána, before what you sealed destroys my home,” she speaks quickly and with force. Distantly, you feel the encroachment of the small sky spirit, and through your accord it grants a powerful desire for its freedom. Dani continues its writhing panic as it begins sensing the changes in the air and darkness, while you feel Nanali fleeing from outside the hut to the villagers as you turn your attention to the subdued sensations of the sealing stone within your grasp.

>Trust Ijana’s word, and set down the blue stone.
>Break the sealing stone.
>[Write-In]

>>429236
>>Break the sealing stone.
>I always honor my word.

>>429236
>>Break the sealing stone.
Yeah lets not break any accords for now. Lets see what kind of hell we unleash. Hindsight says we should have maybe asked for permanent peace between us so he doesn't attack us after the 6 days are up.

>>429236
>Break the sealing stone.

File: greater tumble dryer fiend.jpg (114 KB, 600x600)

114 KB JPG

>writing

AH, I have to stop writing.

Please roll me 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>429339
My bad luck will bring us the 90s. Somehow.

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>429339

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>429339

You emit, soul to soul and powerfully certain, that you always honor your word bound to soul. As you smash the stone she slices her hand and with a quick wave creates a line of blood drops upon the threshold of her dwelling, but it seems stalled as within your grasp the remnants of the stone surge with spiritual power-

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44MxWsx7tpg

-and slowly building up in fitful red arcs of snapping energy, more from the world than the remnants of the stone disintegrating in your grasp, you feel something both reminiscent of the primeval breath and another ancient power, though you find yourself unable to place it. The faint ideas of powerful tools disappear from the stone- but you note the way they vanish easily, as if they were shorn across a great distance. Through your accord you feel a supreme emanation of satisfaction from the small sky spirit alongside unbridled gratitude, and the immediate halting of the great sky spirit nearby it and through your accord you also feel some deeply changed natures.

A deep pulse of sacredness washes through the jungle, from all the air throughout the village and above the canopy, as you feel something ancient and powerful declare its dominion- and through your accord you feel strong soulful exhalations of wicked yearning and euphoric mania. Fitful red and blue sparks of condensed primeval breath and some power unknown to you start arcing between the great jungle limbs outside the dwelling, snapping loudly and harsh as the canopy surges with a vigorous wind. You feel Nanali herding the villagers into one of the larger dwellings, and see Ijana panicking her ritual as her focus is lost while you flit gracefully and with haste past Dani’s writhing form.

In one instant the world turns harshly into contrasting colors as you’re given a vision of what your sky spirit accorded is seeing; a smaller four-winged two-treasured one of the sky fleeing beneath it, and with crushing red arcs of wind it is shredded as all its vital cruor is diminished to nothing in so small a moment as you grip upon a soul, and it falls to the ground, the barest amounts of thunder from hastily summoned storm clouds resounding only once far above the treetops.

You feel the euphoric attentions of the sky spirit turn to the idea of a sacred knife, and of word bound to soul, and from far away and through your accord you feel a condensed power cut through the night of the jungle. As you alight your shadows outside the dwelling and Ijana just barely misses you with her sacred knife, you diminish your form as much as possible while a spiritual pressure exudes from your sky spirit accorded.

You feel his approach- but see it first, as the canopy parts slicing winds aside arcs of energies you can’t place, the world falling silent as you feel a gathering of large power- another great condensing, and what you feel is a superbly angry buzzing.

File: Jahlleit the Devouring Tempest.jpg (99 KB, 743x1050)

99 KB JPG

Explosive cutting wind uproots great trees and parts the canopy in singular action, a strange coldness instantly contrasting the hot zephyr as the fungi jungle is exposed entirely to the sky while great swathes of earth and tree are cut almost as a tunnel from the distant sky spirit- all the way to village. Looking up at the darkness of the revealed sky you see clouds begin to part in a rough line matched to the destruction around you. You see it in the distance, and with a flash of motion you find your form gripped hard in large chitinous limbs, and hear Ijana scream, though all the world is blurred with the rushed motion. You feel yourself, within his large grasping tools, cross a great distance cutting another swath through the canopy- and note a small emanation of sacredness reveal itself from another of his claws.

He drops you lightly alongside the knife, and sets his large form before you in enthusiastic expectation. As he stands fully before you what you first note most is his size, and looking back at the large trees of the fungi jungle you feel, innately, he likely has the physical strength and cruor to topple them without spiritual assistance.

"Jahlleit the Tempest thanks you, Jahlleit the Devourer thanks you!" He chitters loudly, grabbing your attention as his sudden voice while the air around him becomes edged in fitful reds. "For name returned, for voice revived, for ascensions restored!" He gets closer, though you shrink at his approach reflexively, more from the spiritual power his tools exude than fear.

"Must feed otherwhere," he laments, "Your deal!" He finishes excitedly, then emitting your previous proposal of gaining two of its secrets- though you note appears to have some secret it hadn’t before. Attention locked to your actions he reduces his form to a reflection of its greatness with a twisting of light and sharp pop, and you’re shortly looking down upon his gaze rather than up to it whilst his limbs cease digging deep gouges into the sandy beach. He sits with ease, emanating an excited expectation of your desires.

>>>As per your accord, please choose TWO of the following:
>Internal Sacrifice: Voicelessly sacrifice any of your own soul aspects to strengthen any other soul aspect, of yourself to your own or of yourself to any other soul.
>Diminish: For those with truly mighty forms this secret grants a means to instill smallness upon onesself. This negates the benefits of vital cruor but makes one materially and spiritually ambigious. Costs 1 Vital Cruor to both engage and reverse.
>Cruor Veil: The strength of your vital cruor is obscured from discernment alongside any deeper natures it carries.
>Sacrificial Recombination: Sever and mix the properties of any two soul aspects to align them together for the price of one aspect and one quarter or one third the other aspect's weight, rounded up. This cannot be done with aspect's weighing less than three.
>Lament of the Primordial Breath, 2nd Dance: ??.

Had strange posting issues. They seem to be resolved now.

>>429467
>Lament of the Primordial Breath, 2nd Dance: ??.
>Internal Sacrifice: Voicelessly sacrifice any of your own soul aspects to strengthen any other soul aspect, of yourself to your own or of yourself to any other soul.

>>429467
>>Lament of the Primordial Breath, 2nd Dance: ??.
>Cruor Veil: The strength of your vital cruor is obscured from discernment alongside any deeper natures it carries.

>>429467
>>Lament of the Primordial Breath, 2nd Dance: ??.
>Cruor Veil: The strength of your vital cruor is obscured from discernment alongside any deeper natures it carries.
Shit went down alright. Guy is scary.

>>429471
>>429484
>>429493
>writing!

And while I'm writing,
>write-in some farewell emanations or inquiry, or elect to stay silent and emit nothing.

>>429515
Emanations of wishing it good fortune, and the earnest hope we do not cross again while it feeds. And maybe the hint that there is great empire thinking they can kill and devour spirits that needs to be betaken down a peg.

>>429515
Emit that the world outside is dangerous since his been chained down in the island. Ask it to keep an eye out for our spiritual breathern.

>>429540
>keep an eye out for our spiritual breathern.
I feel like he'd laugh in our face if we told him that seeing as he wrecked that other sky spirit along the way here.

With a focused abyssal gaze you emit a simple want for hiding your cruor and natures along a desire for the next lament of the primordial breath. First, it grants a small vision of something innate to spirits, what seems to be simple focus upon internal natures, but tinges it with an idea of a thought focused more on the most basic amorphous form you recall. Attempting the seemingly simple secret you focus on your previously semisolid smoky darkness, and being accorded the sky spirit guides you to remove the idea of the smoke itself- and for a good period of time you find yourself unable to grasp the idea of not having the nature. After much repetition, and being vision guided by Jahlleit, you remove the idea within your mind of a smoking searing form, and you look down up your nearly amorphous arms.

Testing a hand through the sand you note you still retain both the warming properties and solid darkness of your humanoid form, but the searing smokiness seems near vanished completely. Jahlleit walks your mind through the same task for your vital cruor as you focus on abandoning the notions of what allows you influence upon the mortal frame, though this takes quite a bit of time and as you achieve it you feel some distant concern emitted through your accord with the sea spirit. My thanks for that secret, small one, I can make good use of it- sighs a spiritual voice within your mind.

“The dance!” Jahlleit chitters to grab your attention, then granting visions of the first dance, and once again you see the erratic shifting motions of a creature that moves in impossible fragments of outstretched limbs and swift gestures. Distantly, the form itself reminds you of the terrible hunger you encountered in the frozen time, although it is clearly different. It expands on this, the same dance remaining largely unchanged except for the addition of specific pivots along large trailing sweeps, with the act centered upon a location of sacredness within consecrated ground.

Not quite grasping the idea you inquire what it means, to which he returns with a vision of ground that is sacred but also tied closely to the Maelstrom. At your ignorance he emits the idea of high places, of skies and mountains, or of any place beset by a great storm. With another question you ask how you would enact this dance in the sky, where there is no ground.

“Try it,” he chitters with excited simplicity, while you emit satisfaction to the completion of the deal. “Not complete,” he interrupts, “we must not fight for six sunrises. Accord will rest after.” He returns to his previously gigantic size, a rush of red wind blasting you back with the sudden transformation.

Just as his wings begin furiously buzzing you emit to him a wish of good fortune with an earnest hope that you do not cross paths while it feeds. Its buzzing becomes lighter at this, and then stilling slightly as you emit a small idea of a great empire across the seas, with a mention of potential danger. Mildly, you further than idea that he should keep an eye out for other spirits.

It raises a gigantic chitinous limb towards you and much to your surprise pats your solid dark just above your red-tinged twin abysses, then rests what you believe is its forehead upon the same spot for a short moment, each in what you feel to be distinctly mortal acts. It then rears back, furthering an emanation of gratitude for the act as he strokes one of his antennae and the air and jungle around you crackles with fitful red arcs. The furious buzzing of its wings returns, and it poises itself for a jump as you carefully alight your shadows backwards from the building spiritual power.


“Yearn well warm dark! Jahlleit will enjoy consuming you later!” He chitters excitedly, and then with an explosive boom and a wave of heat followed by an oddly extreme cold he vanishes as a soaring arc across the sky, very quickly leaving your field of view across the horizon, the deep sand crater he left behind filling with water while dustings of the earth trail downwards from the harsh momentum. Let us see if the gods stand by and do nothing now- madly laughs a mortal voice within you.

Nearby, you note the sacredness emitting knife of Ijana half buried in the sand. Gripping it hard you focus your searing dark into it- and it warms, but it neither bends nor breaks. Distantly, you hear the leaping of young hunters through the jungle and feel the fast approach of Dani, while you wonder inwardly at how long it took them to follow the path Jahlleit cut through the jungle. Gliding into the air with your black feathered wings, holding the sacredness emitting knife carefully, you note deep emanation of focused anger washing through the jungle- and they’re distantly Ijana’s. As you move you feel her gaze, though you emit nothing, and with a simple look at the sacred knife you surmise she must have some way to find it.

>It seems you’ll need help with this, you’ll return to Davidge for his assistance.
>You have enough cruor yourself; you’ll just grab the torches by the well-lit cave.
>Something else much considered. [Write-In]

>>429642
>>You have enough cruor yourself; you’ll just grab the torches by the well-lit cave.

>>429642
>>You have enough cruor yourself; you’ll just grab the torches by the well-lit cave.
Doubt Davidge will be of much use and we should hurry back to the sea spirit and finish unleashing hell upon the island. Then hopefully we can become a god within six days so we can avoid being feasted on.

>>429642
>You have enough cruor yourself; you’ll just grab the torches by the well-lit cave.

>>429662
>>429672
>writing!

...And with that, please roll me another three 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>429689

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>429689

Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>429689

>>429690
>writing!

Ignoring Ijana doggedly following you as she directs the younger hunters you wreath the darkness of the night around your flight as you speed towards the well-lit cave the leads to the pirate’s cove. Alighting your form down before it you note there are a couple masked guards, but pay them no mind as you thrust the sacred knife into a nearby torch. Forcing the fire with as much focus and influence as you manage you note that it warms intensely, but still will not bend or break.

Switching to a greater thought you dislodge the torch and toss it to the ground, gaining notice of the guards who for one small moment might’ve seen your solid darkness. They give each other a look, and unsling their pistols while you still your form and engage your dire imbuement.

From the inconstant shadows cast by the torches and all the fire within the well-lit cave you emanate a reflective concept of the complete annihilation that was urged upon you by the Skydark guide- at which the masked guards give each other a wider eyed look and flee into the cove. Returned to solace in your work you continue piling torches upon torches, noting that what fuels them does not easily spread to the wood, but you manage to force it.

Your conflagration builds steadily as with each new torch you attempt to destroy the sacred knife- each attempt failing shortly thereafter. Growing impatient you toss the vast majority of the torches into the great flames, and with your searing affliction urge concentrated heat into the sacred knife within the blaze, your form casting its own deep shadow across the cave as you grip the knife with as much strength as your vital cruor allows. Roaring fire around you, the knife bends, then begins to melt as you crush it, left only as a motley heap that emits no sacredness.

Through your accord with the sea spirit you feel it emit a great deal of gratitude, and an asking for you to meet with it.

“Wait for it to burn out,” you hear Ijana’s voice snap and draw your abyssal gaze to her form as you note many of the younger spear wielding Aniunakei hunters behind. “I will use the calling stones to gain other spirits,” she speaks as you note the return of masked pirate guards at the other entrance to the narrow cave, though the hesitate as they see the burning pile of once-torches. “Do not return to our home,” she finishes vehemently, emanating only focused thoughts of destruction.

>This isn’t your problem, go within the cove and call the sea spirit to you to complete your accord.
>Emanate something? (write-in)
>The cave is full of fire, smother the mortal now small one-
>Something else/An addition. [Write-In]

>>429753
>>Emanate something? (write-in)
Simply following my accord Ijana. Maybe if you had been wiser and less vengeful this never would have occurred. Oh, Jahlheit was not the only thing loosened from his bonds. Look the shaper husk in the temple, it wakens.

>>429753
>This isn’t your problem, go within the cove and call the sea spirit to you to complete your accord.

>writing-
For next time!

The session'll continue tonight at 6:00PM EST, because I'm tired and I somehow misplaced bitter sea spirit's character sheet.

Thanks for playing! And let me know if you've any more thoughts/suggestions/criticisms on the recent changes.

Tonight's session is called off for circumstances. Will tweet the time for the next 'un.

Hi, dropping in to say I like this quest. Not sure what you can do to increase debate and participation, Oscuro, but it would help if you stopped making choices at the bottom of the updates, forcing the players to come up with their own plans, based on hints in the quest.

Second, if the updates are long or complete, there's either nothing to comment on, to predict, or too much to digest. End/pause on cliffhangers, on mysteries, to make the audience start guessing at what's going on.

Ofttimes, it's simply too complex to comment on. The mechanics, the motivations, the history. Other times, it's too well-explained, there's nothing left to wonder about.

>>441451
>Don't give prompts
>Write less
This retard.

Posted this in the QTG but I'll post it here too since the general might die

From what I can gather discussion is formed by

>Mechanics
>Lore
>Characters
>Power sperging
>Rolls
>Planning

I don't think there's a real way to foster discussion artificially but I guess having the players in a situation where there's no prompts and you ask something like what do you say? or what do you do?

You're just about liable to slow your quest momentum as you are to foster discussion if any tho

I don't have much time to read any quests these days and I haven't read your quest yet so I can't really give more detailed and specific advice

>>441451
>forcing the players to come up with their own plans
This might work maybe 1 out of 5 times. Personally I suck at write ins, I almost always leave it up to someone else if write ins are needed. I've even seen a few instances where others think similarly and a quest just grinds to a halt since no one wants to speak up. If someone is gonna toss a write in, they'll do it without being forced to. Just letting them know it's an option is enough.

>>441451
>forcing the players to come up with their own plans
I'd hoped, and still do, that this will happen naturally because the defaults are tied to short term goals and so far there hasn't been an IC need to think too far ahead other than for accords. I have a small feeling it might change given recent and upcoming circumstances, though I don't expect a great deal of discussion at the moment since the past couple of sessions were relatively simple and not at an incredible pace. In regards to prompts my experience aligns with >>442199
Which is why I'm hesitant to do an all-write in prompt for things that IC have the appearance of being straightforward.

>too complex, too well-explained
This one I'm wondering about because a lot of things haven't been explained, or in accurate or reliable detail. A small example would be the seething wet darkness, and how many secrets he had or the nature of names, and one other of several would be the details of Jahlleit's accord. Other small/major things relevant to certain characters or past actions go in hand with this, though some only matter after being built up. Then again this too goes in hand with 'too complex, too much to digest.' Both of which may be leveling off soon, but I'd be misleading if I promised that with the way things are heading.

>End/pause on cliffhangers, on mysteries
Oh boy. Well, we'll see anon. I do like cliffhangers.

>>441737
In any case thanks for the advice, hopefully I'll get myself a chance to use it.

And for other things,
Quest is delayed until tomorrow around the same time, see twitter for details.