Feralia 2002
Ritemaster: Seeker
GM: Sepdet
Participants: Aaron/Eye-of-Ra,Raeye/Waits-Impatient,Seeker. Sepdet was NOT here…except…well, you’ll see.

This Feralia I styled loosely on the Egyptian Book of the Dead and the Book of the Amduat, guidebooks to the Egyptian afterlife. According to these books, dead souls have to pass through various portals, naming the spirit-guardians at each gate.
For each pair of guardians, I used two greats from early MUSH history, one for nearly every tribe.
I’m not sure Seeker should’ve known the rite, but…enh.

The fire burns a deep blue, flames leaping and dancing. All is as it always has been, at least to Seeker, save that there are no signs of Sepdet’s presence.
Seeker pages to the room: Can we see you here, Shadow?
You paged the room with ‘Yes, although I’m somewhat hard to see, as per @desc.’
Shadow(#142POUce$)
It is black, the same color as the sky, feathers speckled with a few faint gleams of light like stars through cloud. Its eyes, too, are shadow. The huge owl looms like a crag from the stone on which it’s perched.
Seeker pages to the room: Okay.
Seeker looks around and sighs disappointedly, as if he were expecting something, then folds his legs under him and sits by the fire. He invites Aaron to do the same.
Aaron wanders over, looking around the Umbra. “As many times as I come here, it never ceases to amaze me.” He takes a seat near Seeker, his arms wrapped arouns his knees.

A voice whispers in their minds.
Time.
The beak clacks once, perhaps the first sign of the owl’s presence.
Time.

From afar, Raeye meeps. Am I too late?
You paged Raeye with ‘not at all. Exquisite timing.’.

Seeker nods and reaches into the fire, although it doesn’t seem to burn him. He brings out a bowl and a stone. The bowl contains some sort of thick liquid and the stone bears the glyph of the Silent Striders.
Raeye has arrived.
Aaron starts, looking around. “You say something, Seeker-rhya?” He stands up slowly, peering about the area.
Raeye squints as she arrives, at the word. She gives the vaguest of nods when she notes the other two Striders.

The Owl’s haunting cry underscores the Ritemaster’s words, as he takes up stone and bowl.
The ones-who-stride run the path of the fallen.
The ones-who-stride seek the voices of the lost.
The ones-who-stride remember the signs.
The ones-who-stride survive.

Seeker looks up at the sound of the clacking beak and dips his head in reverence to the owl, then nods to Raeye. “You’re just in time. Sit, please.” He sets the bowl and stone before him carefully. “The bowl contains sap, mud and the blood of Striders. So we are one with Gaia, and she with us. We now speak of the signs of the coming Apocalypse that we have seen.”
Aaron looks around again, edging a bit closer to the fire at the latest verse to recite itself in his head. Seeing Raeye appear, the boy visibly relaxes, and seats himself once again by Seeker-rhya.
Raeye quietly seats herself near the two, drawing her knees up partway. She inclines her head, silent in either her uncertainty at what to do, or simply because she chooses to remain so.
Seeker nods to the owl, then takes the stone in one hand and dips a finger in the bowl, then traces the form of the glyph with the mixture. “I have seen Gaia’s waters befouled and her children standing by idly, unable or unwilling to help. Surely the Apocalypse is upon us when her mightiest warriors neglect their duties.” He passes the bowl and the stone to Raeye.
A shimmering oval of light too gray for moonlight begins to take shape above the fire as the Garou speak the words of the ancient Rite.
From afar, to the room, Aaron passes his pose so Raeye can go, since she has the bowl now.
Raeye gently settles the bowl into her lap, staring at the stone almost idly. After a pause, she, too, dips her finger into the bowl and marks a glyph on the stone. “I have seen the Weaver and Wyrm break free from the balance, the woven children propagating and destroying Gaia’s creation.” With a last flick of her finger, she now passes the bowl and stone to Aaron.
Aaron reaches over, taking the bowl from Raeye’s hands. He looks into it for a second, then dips his finger into it. “I’ve seen Gaia’s forests burned down, and infested with disease and vermin. This can’t be right.” He too traces the tribe’s glyph on the rock before him, then passes the bowl back to Seeker.
The gray portal widens to the breadth of a crinos Garou’s shoulders, rising taller. Dancing tendrils of blue fire extend upwards and around it like glowing veins.
Seeker takes the stone and the bowl and places them back into the fire. “Now we enter the Path of Painted Stones and run to escape our fears and doubts. Striders around to world run with us tonight. Whatever you do, don’t stop or even slow down. Run as fast as you can.”
Seeker contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Seeker shifts into Crinos form.
The owl observing the ceremony abruptly lofts up onto the night wind, wheels, and hovers just off the edge of the shelf in a silent flurry of wings. Its bleak gaze locks with Aaron’s.
Youngest. *You* shall lead the running on this night. Run, run always west, and do not falter. Your task is this: Learn three true things. You shall tell them to us when the night is done. Survive, and be Strider. Or fail, and be lost forever.
You paged the room with ‘When ready to jump, type “Enter Dark Umbra”.’.
Raeye smiles ferally, and winks at Aaron encouragingly before following Seeker’s lead.
Raeye contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Raeye shifts into Crinos form.
Aaron looks up now, away from the fire, and stares for a second at the portal. He too stands up, stretches his legs quickly, then closes his eyes and concentrates on assuming the warform. At the owl’s words, the Garou simply nods, swallowing hard and turning to the portal again.
Aaron contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Aaron shifts into Crinos form.
Waits-Impatient has left.
Seeker has left.
Eye-of-Ra has left.
Dark Umbra(#3060De)
There is a wrenching, searing jolt that seems to pull you inside out, and then your feet strike a dry, broken surface that cuts through flesh and callous alike.

The road is long and hard and bleak. It is a narrow span of blackness suspended in blackness, its edges ill-defined. Stones and bones crunch underfoot. Unresolved forms drift around you in a swirling cloud like windblown ash, making no sound, but beating against and numbing senses. There is no sense here of time, of heat, of life, of hope, only vastness, all of space reduced to an endless line.
Seeker hits the ground running and races off down the path, quickly building up speed. He stares ahead down the path.
Waits-Impatient’s eyes narrow as he steps through the portal, sniffing at the air (or lack thereof) and looking around to try and get his bearings. ~Unpleasant~, he mutters, then turns to the road. ~No need to waste time, I guess. Let’s go!~ At this, he takes off running, as fast as his legs will carry him.
As the Striders begin to run, dark mists swirl around them, lifeless miasma of a thousand millenia. From the shadows emerge now and then half-seen faces, some of them strangely familiar.
Seeker pages to the room: Ah, okay, he’s here. For some reason I can’t see other people in the room.
You paged the room with ‘That’s the Dark Umbra for you.’.
Seeker pages to the room: Ah, okay. :)
Eye-of-Ra gives a heavy whuff as they begin to blur past their surroundings, running at an unmarkable clip after Aaron. Despite the mood of the Dark Umbra, her tread is rather blissfully silent.
Seeker pulls up behind Aaron, closely following his lead. He looks warily at the sides of the path, ready to face any threat. The painted stones of the path speed by beneath his feet.
Waits-Impatient continues running, his breath measured in an even beat. His eyes are fixed as well as they can on the road before him, and he tries to not be distracted by the swirling faces on either side of him. His legs continue churning, speeding the Crinos aslong the dark path.
Eye-of-Ra keeps her ears and feet directly behind Seeker, making an odd three-segmented centipede formation. Her gaze falls on the stones they ghost over, straining to study them as they pass under.
The face of a Tuareg woman materializes out of the swirling mists. She says a few words in Arabic and dissolves again. Seeker acknowledges her with a glance and continues racing down the path, grim determination written across his features.
“CONDE!” A leering kid leaps onto the path ahead of Aaron, charging towards him. Incongruously, the boy is kicking a soccer ball. The boy is pale and slightly translucent, blood pouring down his face from a gashed eye, his athletic uniform torn and ripped. “Conde, you bastard!”
You paged Eye-of-Ra with ‘You notice that each of the black patches on the soccer ball is replaced with the sign of the Wyrm.’.
Waits-Impatient pages: Anyone I’d recognize? Kid I tooled in my First Change?
You paged Waits-Impatient with ‘That’d be him!’.
You paged Waits-Impatient with ‘got it in one. Sharp lad.’.
Waits-Impatiently bares his teeth slightly, bearing down and actually increasing his speed a bit as the apparition of the soccer-clad youth appears before him on the path. The Strider cub lowers a shoulder, charging past (through?) the boy with a snarl. ~Friggin’ idiot,~ he growls, barely giving him a sidelong glance. ~Never liked you much anyways.~
Through it is, although it feels sickeningly like pushing through actual flesh and bone that tears and shatters as Aaron thunders onwards. The phantom vanishes in his wake. Ahead, a gleaming stone portal looms up out of the darkness, showing a hint of golden light dimmed by the gloom.
Among the hieroglyphs etched into the granite are two Garou glyphs: Silver Fang and Red Talon. Before the square gateway stand a pair of stern figures. One is a tall, stunningly beautiful middle-aged woman with pale skin, silvered hair spilling around bare shoulders, not a scrap of clothing, and the image of a winged scarab emblazoned over her heart. Beside her is a hulking monster of a timber wolf, a red patch like blood between his eyes. They call out a challenge as the runners approach. ~Who are the ones in whom our future rest?~ demands the woman. And the wolf snarls, Whom do our claws protect?    [Justice, Bloodfang ]
You paged the room with ‘Any of the three of you may answer the Dead whom you face this night.’.
~Our future depends on those who protect Gaia, for she is who our claws defend!~ Eye-of-Ra snarls in reply, eyeing the woman hard, but not in the eye.
From afar, to the room, Eye-of-Ra…or something. :)
The pair do not yield, and the darkness behind the Striders thicken as they draw near the Gate. ~Do you forget?~ the woman demands, eyes flashing. ~They share our blood. They give us birth!~ And the wolf stands with hackles raised. They live in the purity of the forest. They need our aid.
Waits-Impatient shakes his head for a moment, much as a dog would shake water off his fur as he passes through the spectral boy. Upon sighting the arch, and hearing the demands, the Strider’s eyes narrow. ~Cubs~ the (fitting) cub growls. ~You protect us now, we’ll protect you when we’re able.~ Not waiting for a reply, and with the advice of “just kep running” still echoing in his head, the Strider cub races for the arch.
From afar, to the room, Waits-Impatient will take “Obscure riddles” for $200, Alex. :)
From afar, to the room, Eye-of-Ra facepalms. Ah, that’s what they meant. ;>
You paged Seeker with ‘Oops. It’s up to you. Hint: We’re not talking cubs or Garou, but relatives. Who do the Fangs and Talons care a lot about?’.
Seeker charges along down the path. Dark, lean shapes of Striders leap around him and onto the path, some pulling ahead quickly, some falling behind. At the challenge of the spirits ahead, he snarls, ~Without our kin, human and wolf both, we are lost. We give our claws and lives to protect them and their territory!~
The old ones yield and melt away, leaving the portal open.

You paged Seeker with ‘And one for the Elder.’.
From afar, to the room, Seeker buffs his claws. :)
From afar, to the room, Waits-Impatient woo Seeker.
From afar, to the room, Eye-of-Ra things a shade of Vixen Blood on them nails will compliment your eyes nicely. :>

The road snakes onward, mile after uncounted mile. A second gateway appears, this one held by an ordinary-looking pair: the glyphs of Shadow Lord and Bone Gnawer are clear upon the lintel. On the left is a mature woman with gray-streaked black hair drawn back in a conservative style, dressed in well-tailored business clothes. On the right, a sober, grizzled man in tattered and patched clothes, with a paper crown perched crookedly on his gray hair.   [Judith Porthaut, Fisher-King]
“Operations need to be streamlined,” the woman says briskly. “Ground has been lost. It behooves you to look to the unchecked threat at your back gates. Do you know the place?”
The scruffy-looking man gives an odd bow. “If Owl’s wisdom is not too high and mighty to take Rat’s,” he says mildly, “I would remind you that work lies unfinished which I began. The stench is getting worse there each year, and it’s the job that’s never started that can’t be finished, you know.” He holds up a toothbrush like a scepter. “You know where I’m talkin’ about?”
Waits-Impatient lowers his head again, ducking and dodging shapes that swirl and appear on either side of him, and charges for the arch. His breath is coming a bit heavier now, but is face is set in determination as he rushes further down the path. ~Here we go.~
From afar, to the room, Waits-Impatient argh damn lag.
Seeker growls, ~The stinking sewers.~
Eye-of-Ra snorts an agreement to Seeker. ~Where you lay your waste.~
The dead Shadow Lord wrinkles her nose, casting an accusatory glance at the one beside her. “Absolutely. Caern needs defense, but the Wyrm was always worse in town, even when we were there to look after the place.” They salute the passing Garou and back away in time for Aaron to sprint past them unobstructed.

You paged the room with ‘Seeker’s bonus challenge: name all those you pass by tonight!’.
Seeker pages to the room: Ooh, what do I get if I win? :)
Eye-of-Ra pages to the room: You can take us all out to dinner, for a start. >:)
Seeker pages: Crap! I forget the naked Fang’s name!
You paged Seeker with ‘Warder and Alpha, once upon a time.’.
Seeker pages: Yeah, I remember that, but I can’t remember her name. :)

As the Striders continue to run, a thrumming begins behind them like distant drums, drums from the dawn of time.
Waits-Impatient rushes past the two, continuing down the path. The sound of the drumming causes the boy to look off to the side, as if to try and spot the source, and he calls out ~Anyone else hear that?~
Seeker nods. ~Yes. Keep going!~
Eye-of-Ra whuffs a loud ~Are you kidding? You can -feel- that!~ She inadvertently begins to run to the beat, still keeping close behind her two septmates.

The ominous pounding continues as the Striders draw near the third Arit on this ghostly voyage, this one sparkling with stars.
The guardians this time are a blond woman in a peasant blouse and full skirt, perched on nothingness and playing a mandolin with heartbreaking music, and beside her, a 4’9 woman in a trenchcoat, bowler, and spiked blue hair. Child of Gaia and Walker glyphs denote their tribes. [Elizabeth "Gentle Touches" Willowray, Toxic]
“Gaia’s greatest gift,” the musician laments sadly, “All too oft-forgotten by the warriors whose business is battle.” The blue-haired woman adds laconically, “It holds packs t’gether and keeps yaz from killin’ one another. Don’t knock it. ‘S the main way we’re better’n the foe.”
~Love~, he whuffs out as he runs. ~Sounds like love to me. We’re not in this for the pay, so it’s got to be that.~ He actually breaks a bit of a smile as he runs for the gate.
From afar, to the room, Waits-Impatient forgets to attach his name to that. That was me. Really. :) Unless it’s the wrong answer.
The wistful-looking woman plays a triumphant chord and dissipates, kind smile lingering for a moment afterwards. The short butch tips her hat and steps back, dissappearing into shadows. “Keep it up, kid.”
You paged the room with ‘For your edification, the mandolin player: http://www.emf.net/~sgalvin/beth-pic.html’.

The sound of thrumming changes subtly as they pass through the third gate. It is a heartbeat now, slow and inexorable, as steady and implacable as waves striking a shore.
Seeker utters a short bark of conratulations and encouragement to Waits-Impatient. His pace never flags, and he urges the cub to try to pick up his pace. The ahroun looks around as they pass the gate, searching for the source of the heartbeat.

The fourth gate is held by two hulking Garou, each clutching a klaive in hands and glaring at one another. The one is scarred, barrel-chested, and bears no ornament; the other has tattoos and a medicine pouch hanging around his broad neck. Snarls break forth as the Striders approach. Get of Fenris and Wendigo, no doubt about it.  [Banestriker, Red Sky]
~The Wheel Renewed is ours!~ growls the one. ~You lost your chance, bone-polisher! It is WE who died to defend its glory! Where were you, sulking in the hills, when the leeches and the great Banes came boiling from the shadow?~ ~Wyrmbringer!~ snaps the other. ~The Wheel was ours, and the land remembers, even if you have twisted the very rocks of the Medicine Wheel!~ ~Wheel Renewed!~ the first one snarls. ~Medicine Wheel!~ the second snarls. ~You’ve even twisted its name!~
If werewolves can hum, Raeye makes her equivalent to the beat, barely audible. This dies abruptly as she catches the argument the Striders are approaching. ~The Wheel is no longer, for things change, and this change is as natural as Gaia has made it to be. This is now the Hidden Walk, and it is not a tribe who protects it, but Garou, for Garou must exist before a tribe can exist.”
The two arch-foes glare in unison at the Galliard racing towards them, then reluctantly incline their muzzles and step one to each side. As the Striders pass the fourth Gate of Night, the sound that batters sensitive Strider ears grows louder still. Heartbeat becomes wingbeats. Out of the corners of their eyes, the Garou may snatch glimpses of huge black feathers, wingtips outstretched like fingers, looming over them like a spreading canopy and dipping far below the path and out of sight with every downstroke.
Waits-Impatient rushes onward, shouting a ~Nice job!~ back to Raeye as he goes. He glances off the sides of the path as he runs, barely able to spot the movement of the wings over the path. ~Just keep going…~ he growls to himself, eyes locked on the path before him. ~Coach’d get a kick out of _this_ marathon…~

A fifth pylon comes into view, blocked by an athletic giant of a woman resting her cheek against a longbow, and a darkhaired girl, barely more than fifteen, with golden-amber eyes and a tightlipped expression. “I shall be respectful,” they chant in unison. “I shall be loyal. I shall be just. I shall live by my word. I shall accept fair challenges. Do you still remember our creed, Owl’s people, who hide behind secrets and white lies?” [Diana, Maury]
You paged the room with ‘Raeye and Seeker will probably recognize Diana, Demeter’s Hand.’.
From afar, to the room, Waits-Impatient will stay blissfully ignorant. :)
Eye-of-Ra huffs a warm response to Aaron as they dart on, ears flicking at the Black Fury at the next gate. These words cause her to hesitate very briefly, but she makes no reply.
Waits-Impatient nods to the Amazon and the girl, drawing beath after breath as he continues to run for what seems like hours. ~We have honor~, replies the cub. ~I’ve seen tons of it down in the alive world, our tribe and all the others.~
Seeker howls, ~Yes, the creed of Honor! We serve Gaia in our own way, though you may not always see it that way. And in our own way, we are honorable. We go where others will not, we seek the signs, we watch. Our secrets keep Gaia safe.~
From afar, to the room, Waits-Impatient thinks he cut in front of Seeker. Sorry.
Seeker pages to the room: S’okay. :)
Gold eyes flicker towards the cub in recognition, bringing a faint smile from the serious girl close to his own age. “They teach you well,” she says softly and whirls away. The Fury Elder raises a hand to Seeker as he barrels past.

The giant black wings overhead are more visible now, limned with orange like the edges of paper starting to catch fire, and then suddenly with a burst of heat they ignite on all sides, huge feathers gleaming through the conflagration like scales of molten metal. The air is burning, howling with flames eating up the path behind.
Seeker speeds onward down the path, striving to keep ahead of the fire consuming the way behind. He never slows, although the hot air sears his lungs.
The last gate is silhouetted against billowing flames. Uktena’s sign is black even in the glare of the fire, and two other glyphs are obscured by smoke: a dimmed star, and something none of you have ever seen.
An old, sinewy man, garbed only in bone necklace and loincloth, stands upon the path with arms folded. Beside him, an insubstantial woman in beaded buckskins, eagle feathers bound into her black hair. Her face is shadowed. A tree grows from the rock of the stone portal, its leaves whipping in the wind, tattered but not ignited by the firestorm swirling around.  [Stormcrow, Sepdet]
~Remember,~ the old man says darkly. ~Who are they that run behind you? Who whisper in your ears? Who fought the great battles, and paved the paths you now run?~
~Remember us,~ the woman commands quietly, ~You who have guided us at the dawn of time, we guide you in return. Remember us when all others have forgotten. Who are we?~
Waits-Impatiently glances over his shoulder for but a second, then redoubles his efforts at running down the path. ~Move it!~ he shouts, willing his legs to move faster than they’ve ever run before.
Seeker calls out, ~You are the dead, who have always been under our care. We honor you and remember. We tell your stories and sing your names.~
The sixth Guardians raise their arms in acknowledgement, and a gust of chill wind — welcome indeed — beats back at the driving flames as the Striders pass between them. The female of the pair rushes through behind them, almost lost in the flames. White feathers in her hair blacken and turn to ash, drifting away, and the woman darkens and changes, a lean slim crinos jogging silently at their heels.
Sepdet has arrived.
Eye-of-Ra glances once, then again in a double-take, over her shoulder at the crinos behind them, then exhales softly before working into Aaron’s new pace.
Waits-Impatient winces at the suddenness of the chill air, then runs on. ~Everyone okay?~ he calls out, continuing to sprint along.
Seeker spares the crinos behind them a quick glance, then focuses forward again, giving Waits-Impatient a nod. He continues following the cub closely behind and to the right.
As if in answer to his question, the gusting torrent grows louder with the wind, howling, blowing the Garou forward. Ahead the tunnel of feathered flames narrows, the way ahead barred by a shimmering curtain of white-hot fire.
Eye-of-Ra squints, then rumbles low in throat, ~Not if that fire up ahead is as painful as it looks!~
Waits-Impatient bears down, rushing forward at the flames. ~We can’t slow down now!~ he yells, lowering himself for what seems to be a final sprint. ~Just barrel through, and roll on the other side… ‘sides, nothign else here’s been real, right?~
Seeker doesn’t slow down a bit. He calls out, ~Keep going!~
Set.
You paged the room with ‘”Leave” when you’re ready to jump through.’.
~Even if it doesn’t harm us, doesn’t mean it makes it less real,~ Eye-of-Ra admonishes mildly, but doesn’t push the argument further. Not now. She bears down, practically running on all fours as they near the fire.
Waits-Impatiently makes a break for it, rushing straight at the fire and leaping through with a howl.
Waits-Impatient vanishes through the white wall of flame and is gone.
Waits-Impatient has left.
Seeker vanishes through the white wall of flame and is gone.
Seeker has left.
Eye-of-Ra vanishes through the white wall of flame and is gone.
Eye-of-Ra has left.
Sepdet vanishes through the white wall of flame and is gone.
Sepdet has left.

Each Strider is catapulted through the white-hot last gate by a wailing hot breath that leaves him or her singed and blinded, and for a moment in utter agony. The cold velvet darkness beyond the blast furnace is like the gates of heaven. When their eyes recover, they find themselves back where they began. The fire has burned low to embers. The oval-shaped black stone lies in its heart like an egg within a nest.
Waits-Impatient hits the other side rolling, flailing at himself to try and put any flames out. He stays on the ground for a moment, heaving for breath with singed lungs, then slowly draws himself to his feet and looks around. ~We’re… we’re back.~
Seeker lands on the other side and slowly gets up to his feet, panting heavily. He looks up, relieved to see Sepdet there.
Eye-of-Ra looks utterly ridiculous, blinking and squinting, sitting up once regaining composure. A brow arches at the sight of Sepdet, but her gaze shifts to Aaron.
Sepdet rises quietly to her feet, shivering in the night air. She paces over to Raeye and embraces her silently before looking from ahroun to cub.
~Thank you, Seeker,~ she tells the ahroun. And to Aaron: ~Well done, Word-spinner.~
Waits-Impatient finally focuses enough to see Sepdet looking at him. ~Sepdet-rhya,~ he says, nodding his head in greeting to her. ~Been a while since I’ve seen you. Welcome back.~ At her praise, the crinos barely manages to not break into a toothy grin.
Seeker nods. ~You’re welcome. It is good to see you again.~
Sepdet’s gaze lingers on Aaron, manner grave as ever.
Aaron hears: ~I am told you have three things to say.~
Eye-of-Ra returns Sepdet’s hug with a rather fierce return, but releases her, to study the faces of her tribesmates with great intent. Especially those of her elder and her junior.
Waits-Impatient clears his throat. ~That’s what they tell me… so here goes. First of all, you can’t forget those who came before you. Even though we can’t directly speak with them or channel them, we can still learm from their actions and lessons.~
Waits-Impatiently thinks for a moment, then looks up. ~We are looked upon with suspicion as a tribe, as people who hold secrets and tell lies. Yet even above that, honor among the Garou outweighs any tribal generalizations and prejudices.~
Sepdet’s eyes flicker towards Raeye once, a private look half bemused, half apologetic, before she refocusses on the young Galliard’s face, listening intently.
Seeker turns to Waits-Impatient and listens to his telling.
Waits-Impatiently takes a deep breath, exhales, then looks at Sepdet. ~And we have love. Not always the hugging and kissing kind, but a love for our cause and a love for each other that our enemies don’t have. And we have to rely on that, if we want to win, or even advance.~ The cub nods his head. ~Those are three lessons I learned. Among many.~
Sepdet inclines her head and exhales. Thin brows lift upwards.
~What do you think, Galliard?~ The theurge’s voice is no more than a whisper in Raeye’s ears. ~Is he Strider?~
Seeker nods and looks at Sepdet for confirmation.
~He has the heart of a true Strider, and his feet follow their path, and forge it.~ Eye-of-Ra states this firmly, eyeing Waits-Impatiently as she finally speaks.
Sepdet stoops, reaching for something in the fire. An ember comes up in her hand, scorching fur for real this time. ~The Galliard recognizes his three truths,~ she says in a hoarse whisper, the sound carrying more naturally now. ~And here is one who uses purpose and wisdom to guide his path and others. Westchenyu G’rou you are, Silent Strider. Keep our secrets.~ With that, she steps forward and slaps the coal against Aaron’s chest over his heart, searing the moment into his flesh.
Seeker nods in approval and watches as Sepdet finalizes the rite.
Waits-Impatient stands tall, wincing only slightly amd biting his lower lip as the ember scorches his chest. ~I will,~ is all he manages, nodding to Sepdet. ~I promise.~
Sepdet thumps his shoulder with her other hand and steps back, replacing the sooty remains into the fire.
Eye-of-Ra strives to remain solemn as the ritual reaches a close, but she can’t help a sharp-toothed grin to Aaron as he’s branded.
Seeker pages to the room: Woohoo!
Seeker nods to Aaron. ~Well done.~
Waits-Impatient holds back as ong as he can, but the moment finally overtakes him. He throws his head back, howling full and long at the sky above him, a holw of pure pride and exhilaration.
From afar, to the room, Seeker takes a closer look. ~Er, wait, looks more like medium rare.~
Eye-of-Ra pages to the room: Just the way I like it. ;>
Eye-of-Ra weaves her own song of rejoice into the howl, though leaving Waits-Impatiently’s voice the strength, the melody.
Sepdet’s own look of pride is celebrated in silence, but Aaron’s with actually extracts a chortle from the tiny crinos. She shakes her head slowly and dwindles into her ordinary shape, grinning.
Sepdet contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Sepdet shifts into Glabro form.
Seeker pages to the room: Okay, let’s see if I can get this: The Talon was Stormcloud, the Fang was Justice? the SLord was Judith? The Gnawer was Pete Barlow? The GW was definitely Toxic, the CoGgie was Elizabeth, The Wendigo was Red Sky? The Get was Banestriker, maybe? The Fury was Diana, the Fianna was Maury and the Uktena was Teh Stormcrow. :)
You paged the room with ‘Excellent, all but two. Bloodfang wasn’t very obvious (we haven’t seen him in so long.) Fisher-King was the fellow with the paper crown.’.