Post by badger on Oct 18, 2013 19:52:13 GMT -5
It was a cold day that Badger had chosen to make her trip into the woods. Her breath steamed in the air whenever she opened her mouth and the leaves crunched beneath her feet as if they were covered in a layer of frost, a promise of the winter ahead. It was early morning, and though Badger had recently been accepted as an Ovate of the Old Faith she was a master at making herself scarce, and such was the relief of those who endured her at her “worst” that no one questioned her absence. After all, as small as she was she was an adult of her species, what's the worst that could happen? So naive.
Over her shoulder hung a heavy satchel that slapped against her side with every step taken, it had been requisitioned from the quartermasters supply room and so the strap had to be doubled up just to avoid it knocking out her ankles: but it did the job asked of it without complaints. Though the cold temperatures of early morning bit through her simple clothes Badger was in high spirits, while not yet a Druid nor one she had been apprenticed to (no one had stepped up to that challenge yet) Janai had been giving her the occasional titbit of information, advice and recommendation. The latest being that of a ritual Initiates often attempted to strengthen the bond between themselves and the aspect of nature that resonated with them the most. This bond then manifested in the form of a physical item, often a weapon that would remain at the Druids side until the day they died, and even then it was often buried with them if there hadn't been a request to have it destroyed outright. It was this link with the spirits, this connection that intrigued Badger the most, the Totem weapon was but a fringe benefit. Janai had also claimed that not every Initiate was capable of going through with the ritual - and that just further fanned the flame of Badgers curiosity.
She had been walking through the forest for almost an hour, and though but a few days prior there had been an attack on the Enclave she was not worried. With some delicate prodding, Durumu had shared with her that since that day no further sign or disturbance had been sighted, that they believed whatever had caused such distress had since moved on - so the woods were safe for the time being, at least from the denizens of the undead. She had no interest in tarrying about in the forest all day as she was bound to be missed at the Enclave sooner or later, and it wasn’t long after she began to wonder if she got turned around or Janai was just pulling her leg before she sighted her goal: her dark eyes rising after a hillock to take in the megalithic circle that presented itself within a large clearing.
The stones were at least three times as tall as she was at their largest, with the smallest reaching to about her waist. They were spaced haphazardly with some gaps that you could ride two carts through if that was your inclination, the grass growing wildly in places though strangely no higher than her own ankle as if the blades had chosen not to grow beyond that point. Badger had never seen such a collection before and initially she thought it quite convenient that the arrangement was so close to the Enclave itself, until the realisation hit her that as the Old Faith held such circles in high regard, perhaps the compound had been built near the stones for a purpose.
“Well. No time like the present.”
Her voice disturbed the silence in the clearing and for whatever reason she felt almost embarrassed as if she'd committed a breach of etiquette, not that such a thing usually concerned her before now .. druids were rubbing off on her. Gripping the strap of her satchel with a firm hand she shrugged the feeling from her shoulders and stepped through the gap in the stones.
The effect was immediate.
The shift in the air was obvious but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. It was like encountering a scent you had never smelled before, or a flavour you had never tasted, and there were no words to describe exactly what it smelled or tasted like because it was completely new. The air felt somehow thicker, charged perhaps, she could almost consider it somehow sentient. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Stopping to try and analyse the change in her senses she realised that within the last few moments her tongue had grown thick and heavy, her lips cracked and dry, and that the sun - previously hanging low in the sky - had risen higher and was chasing the chill from the air.
Weird.
A waterskin was removed from her satchel as she took a few more steps forward until she was in the centre of the circle, swallowing a mouthful of water before it and the bag were dropped to the ground and the contents strewn across the grass. With her she had brought a pouch full of herbs whose names she had gained after badgering Janai mercilessly, a reinforced wooden bowl, a glass bottle filled with muddy liquid and a knife. It wasn't much, but Janai assured her that a lot about being of the Old Faith relied only on simple things, occasionally a touch of symbolism, and the rest coming from Arith around them.
Stuffing her hands into her pocket she'd take a small roll of thin papers and remove one from the conglomerate, laying it down on the bag while she opened up the pouch of herbs and emptied most of it into the wooden bowl, saving the rest for the paper. A few pinches worth were rolled up into a sturdy tube that was then lit, a light touch soon setting the bowl of herbs to smouldering. She took a pull from her smoke and found the flavour to be oddly enjoyable, though it was somewhat acrid and stung her throat while making her head swim with each breath. At this point she had sunk into the grass and reached over for the unnamed bottle, popping the cork and taking a swig from the neck - almost spewing the contents across the circle as soon as the liquid hit her tongue. That stuff was beyond foul!
Gagging, she forced the drink down her throat and dropped the bottle onto the grass, hands shooting up to cover her mouth as her stomach heaved in protest. Whatever was in that liquid did not agree with her in the slightest, but it had to be consumed otherwise this entire escapade would be for naught.
Eventually she felt able to drop her hands without emptying the contents of her belly. Shuddering as she took a pull from her smoke, sweat breaking out all over her body and dripping down her face. She found that her hands were shaking, but considered that perfectly normal under the circumstances. With her smoke clenched firmly between her teeth, she turned her attention to the knife and bowl in front of her, taking up the former and running the sharp blade against the palm of her right hand - letting blood flow freely down her skin, forming a fist that would be squeezed above the smouldering herbs. It hurt, but she found that either the inhaled herb or perhaps the drink itself had dulled the pain, granting everything a surreal third person viewpoint. Biting smoke plumed into her face as the droplets hissed against the heat within, the sound like a nest of serpents tickling at her ears making her twitch and giggle a little. Releasing the knife, she stared at it as it slowly turned end over end before impacting with the ground, ripples sent through the blades of grass as blood erupted from the blades edge to sparkle in the air like an alchemists firework. Another pull from her smoke, grey tendrils rising from her mouth to dance in the air, intertwining with the vapour from the bowl that would coil and twist, words forming in front of her eyes only to be forgotten a moment later. She attempted to trace them with a fingertip, pouting when she failed, laughing when they formed an assortment of cavorting animals that swooped around her head on wings of mist.
How much of that do you believe was strictly necessary?
The voice thrummed inside the pit of her belly and escaped from her nose, twisted around her throat and expanded somewhere behind her right shoulder. Safe to say it gave her a bit of a start, the halfling shifting on the grass and craning her neck.
“Wuzzat?”
I said, do you believe everything you’re told or is there some measure of doubt that runs through your little brain?
“Oi oi oi oi ..”
Her voice was thick and muzzy as it tumbled haltingly from her lips, Badger wriggling across the grass on her hands and knees as she sought the source of the voice that resonated deep within her ear canals.
Behind you.
She turned, and there it was.
A badger.
No prizes for guessing, folks.
Its sleek head was tilted to one side as it regarded the diminutive humanoid, its own body at least twice the size of a large bear, claws digging into the ground beneath its weight. It was a magnificent beast with bright intelligent eyes, glistening fur, and the curious condition of being somewhat opaque. She supposed that had something to do with it being a spirit .. or a very realistic hallucination brought on by strange herbs, bad liquor and too much imagination. After a moment or two it settled down into the grass so that it was eye to eye with the halfling, its jaws separating as it made a show of yawning, sharp teeth sparkling dangerously in the sunlight.
You’re not very good at this sort of thing are you? I can see it in your eyes. You go along with it, thinking that what the heck, it won’t do any harm, best case scenario it works out but worst case you didn’t really believe in it anyway so no big loss. Am I right?
The spirit didn’t wait for a response.
You’re not taking this seriously at all! Not one bit!
A massive paw was lifted high and smashed against the ground sending vibrations through the earth and knocking Badger backwards with the force of the connection. She stared up at the sky for a minute before pulling herself to her feet and advancing on the apparition, her bloodied hand held out in front of her with a finger levelled like a spear.
“Now just you listen! I’m here aren’t I? I finished it didn’t I? I want to get stronger, I’m going to get stronger, and no flea bitten rodent is going to get in my way so give me what I came for or I’ll chew your mangy ears off and shove them both so far up your hairy nose they’ll come back out the bleeding holes!”
Nose to fang with the spirit she glared up at the beast's maw, breathing heavily and feeling more than a little sick. They stood in silence for a few moments before the larger badger visibly rolled its eyes.
Whatever.
Huffing out a deep breath it knocked her down with a paw just to show that it could, standing over her and almost blocking out the sun with its mass.
You need the help anyway, if you keep on this track you’re bound to get yourself killed. Did you know that stuff you drank could poison you? No? Didn’t think so. You fit the template but there can be too much of a good thing, temper your self reliance and bull headedness with a bit more calm, badgers look out for their own skin too, they have to being so small. Not a problem I have clearly. Now do yourself a favour and purge already, that stuff isn’t healthy.
Badger found her gorge rising and a thick black ichor erupted from her mouth, the halfling barely rolling over in time to avoid choking on it. Her body shook violently with the force of the expulsion and it seemed to take forever for the poison to leave her body, though leave it it did, her hand soon questing out on the grass for the abandoned water skin. Shakily, she pulled the stopper and rinsed out her mouth before drinking deep; her stomach clenching initially but relaxing with time. She would rest there for a while, concentrating on her breathing and the status of her stomach before she felt contained enough to sit up and take stock of her surroundings. She wasn’t surprised to find that the apparition had left - if it had even been there at all - though she was surprised to discover the sun making a steady progress back down to the earth. Scratching her head, she winced as a sharp pain spread rapidly across the skin of her hand, burning deep into the flesh and searing away at the bone. Bringing it in front of her eyes, she saw that a strange series of designs had been stained into her skin, covering both sides of her hand from the tips of her fingers to past her wrist. They almost looked like claws ..
Over her shoulder hung a heavy satchel that slapped against her side with every step taken, it had been requisitioned from the quartermasters supply room and so the strap had to be doubled up just to avoid it knocking out her ankles: but it did the job asked of it without complaints. Though the cold temperatures of early morning bit through her simple clothes Badger was in high spirits, while not yet a Druid nor one she had been apprenticed to (no one had stepped up to that challenge yet) Janai had been giving her the occasional titbit of information, advice and recommendation. The latest being that of a ritual Initiates often attempted to strengthen the bond between themselves and the aspect of nature that resonated with them the most. This bond then manifested in the form of a physical item, often a weapon that would remain at the Druids side until the day they died, and even then it was often buried with them if there hadn't been a request to have it destroyed outright. It was this link with the spirits, this connection that intrigued Badger the most, the Totem weapon was but a fringe benefit. Janai had also claimed that not every Initiate was capable of going through with the ritual - and that just further fanned the flame of Badgers curiosity.
She had been walking through the forest for almost an hour, and though but a few days prior there had been an attack on the Enclave she was not worried. With some delicate prodding, Durumu had shared with her that since that day no further sign or disturbance had been sighted, that they believed whatever had caused such distress had since moved on - so the woods were safe for the time being, at least from the denizens of the undead. She had no interest in tarrying about in the forest all day as she was bound to be missed at the Enclave sooner or later, and it wasn’t long after she began to wonder if she got turned around or Janai was just pulling her leg before she sighted her goal: her dark eyes rising after a hillock to take in the megalithic circle that presented itself within a large clearing.
The stones were at least three times as tall as she was at their largest, with the smallest reaching to about her waist. They were spaced haphazardly with some gaps that you could ride two carts through if that was your inclination, the grass growing wildly in places though strangely no higher than her own ankle as if the blades had chosen not to grow beyond that point. Badger had never seen such a collection before and initially she thought it quite convenient that the arrangement was so close to the Enclave itself, until the realisation hit her that as the Old Faith held such circles in high regard, perhaps the compound had been built near the stones for a purpose.
“Well. No time like the present.”
Her voice disturbed the silence in the clearing and for whatever reason she felt almost embarrassed as if she'd committed a breach of etiquette, not that such a thing usually concerned her before now .. druids were rubbing off on her. Gripping the strap of her satchel with a firm hand she shrugged the feeling from her shoulders and stepped through the gap in the stones.
The effect was immediate.
The shift in the air was obvious but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. It was like encountering a scent you had never smelled before, or a flavour you had never tasted, and there were no words to describe exactly what it smelled or tasted like because it was completely new. The air felt somehow thicker, charged perhaps, she could almost consider it somehow sentient. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Stopping to try and analyse the change in her senses she realised that within the last few moments her tongue had grown thick and heavy, her lips cracked and dry, and that the sun - previously hanging low in the sky - had risen higher and was chasing the chill from the air.
Weird.
A waterskin was removed from her satchel as she took a few more steps forward until she was in the centre of the circle, swallowing a mouthful of water before it and the bag were dropped to the ground and the contents strewn across the grass. With her she had brought a pouch full of herbs whose names she had gained after badgering Janai mercilessly, a reinforced wooden bowl, a glass bottle filled with muddy liquid and a knife. It wasn't much, but Janai assured her that a lot about being of the Old Faith relied only on simple things, occasionally a touch of symbolism, and the rest coming from Arith around them.
Stuffing her hands into her pocket she'd take a small roll of thin papers and remove one from the conglomerate, laying it down on the bag while she opened up the pouch of herbs and emptied most of it into the wooden bowl, saving the rest for the paper. A few pinches worth were rolled up into a sturdy tube that was then lit, a light touch soon setting the bowl of herbs to smouldering. She took a pull from her smoke and found the flavour to be oddly enjoyable, though it was somewhat acrid and stung her throat while making her head swim with each breath. At this point she had sunk into the grass and reached over for the unnamed bottle, popping the cork and taking a swig from the neck - almost spewing the contents across the circle as soon as the liquid hit her tongue. That stuff was beyond foul!
Gagging, she forced the drink down her throat and dropped the bottle onto the grass, hands shooting up to cover her mouth as her stomach heaved in protest. Whatever was in that liquid did not agree with her in the slightest, but it had to be consumed otherwise this entire escapade would be for naught.
Eventually she felt able to drop her hands without emptying the contents of her belly. Shuddering as she took a pull from her smoke, sweat breaking out all over her body and dripping down her face. She found that her hands were shaking, but considered that perfectly normal under the circumstances. With her smoke clenched firmly between her teeth, she turned her attention to the knife and bowl in front of her, taking up the former and running the sharp blade against the palm of her right hand - letting blood flow freely down her skin, forming a fist that would be squeezed above the smouldering herbs. It hurt, but she found that either the inhaled herb or perhaps the drink itself had dulled the pain, granting everything a surreal third person viewpoint. Biting smoke plumed into her face as the droplets hissed against the heat within, the sound like a nest of serpents tickling at her ears making her twitch and giggle a little. Releasing the knife, she stared at it as it slowly turned end over end before impacting with the ground, ripples sent through the blades of grass as blood erupted from the blades edge to sparkle in the air like an alchemists firework. Another pull from her smoke, grey tendrils rising from her mouth to dance in the air, intertwining with the vapour from the bowl that would coil and twist, words forming in front of her eyes only to be forgotten a moment later. She attempted to trace them with a fingertip, pouting when she failed, laughing when they formed an assortment of cavorting animals that swooped around her head on wings of mist.
How much of that do you believe was strictly necessary?
The voice thrummed inside the pit of her belly and escaped from her nose, twisted around her throat and expanded somewhere behind her right shoulder. Safe to say it gave her a bit of a start, the halfling shifting on the grass and craning her neck.
“Wuzzat?”
I said, do you believe everything you’re told or is there some measure of doubt that runs through your little brain?
“Oi oi oi oi ..”
Her voice was thick and muzzy as it tumbled haltingly from her lips, Badger wriggling across the grass on her hands and knees as she sought the source of the voice that resonated deep within her ear canals.
Behind you.
She turned, and there it was.
A badger.
No prizes for guessing, folks.
Its sleek head was tilted to one side as it regarded the diminutive humanoid, its own body at least twice the size of a large bear, claws digging into the ground beneath its weight. It was a magnificent beast with bright intelligent eyes, glistening fur, and the curious condition of being somewhat opaque. She supposed that had something to do with it being a spirit .. or a very realistic hallucination brought on by strange herbs, bad liquor and too much imagination. After a moment or two it settled down into the grass so that it was eye to eye with the halfling, its jaws separating as it made a show of yawning, sharp teeth sparkling dangerously in the sunlight.
You’re not very good at this sort of thing are you? I can see it in your eyes. You go along with it, thinking that what the heck, it won’t do any harm, best case scenario it works out but worst case you didn’t really believe in it anyway so no big loss. Am I right?
The spirit didn’t wait for a response.
You’re not taking this seriously at all! Not one bit!
A massive paw was lifted high and smashed against the ground sending vibrations through the earth and knocking Badger backwards with the force of the connection. She stared up at the sky for a minute before pulling herself to her feet and advancing on the apparition, her bloodied hand held out in front of her with a finger levelled like a spear.
“Now just you listen! I’m here aren’t I? I finished it didn’t I? I want to get stronger, I’m going to get stronger, and no flea bitten rodent is going to get in my way so give me what I came for or I’ll chew your mangy ears off and shove them both so far up your hairy nose they’ll come back out the bleeding holes!”
Nose to fang with the spirit she glared up at the beast's maw, breathing heavily and feeling more than a little sick. They stood in silence for a few moments before the larger badger visibly rolled its eyes.
Whatever.
Huffing out a deep breath it knocked her down with a paw just to show that it could, standing over her and almost blocking out the sun with its mass.
You need the help anyway, if you keep on this track you’re bound to get yourself killed. Did you know that stuff you drank could poison you? No? Didn’t think so. You fit the template but there can be too much of a good thing, temper your self reliance and bull headedness with a bit more calm, badgers look out for their own skin too, they have to being so small. Not a problem I have clearly. Now do yourself a favour and purge already, that stuff isn’t healthy.
Badger found her gorge rising and a thick black ichor erupted from her mouth, the halfling barely rolling over in time to avoid choking on it. Her body shook violently with the force of the expulsion and it seemed to take forever for the poison to leave her body, though leave it it did, her hand soon questing out on the grass for the abandoned water skin. Shakily, she pulled the stopper and rinsed out her mouth before drinking deep; her stomach clenching initially but relaxing with time. She would rest there for a while, concentrating on her breathing and the status of her stomach before she felt contained enough to sit up and take stock of her surroundings. She wasn’t surprised to find that the apparition had left - if it had even been there at all - though she was surprised to discover the sun making a steady progress back down to the earth. Scratching her head, she winced as a sharp pain spread rapidly across the skin of her hand, burning deep into the flesh and searing away at the bone. Bringing it in front of her eyes, she saw that a strange series of designs had been stained into her skin, covering both sides of her hand from the tips of her fingers to past her wrist. They almost looked like claws ..