(Sitra, the local priestess of Nirzali, performs a ritual to contact her goddess. Thanks to everyone who participated in this scene with me, and to staff for giving us some fun echoes and environmental responses!)
You observe the sky.
[Sky Over Sea of Mist]
Shimmering fog swirls coldly against the sky, cloaking the light from the distant sun.
Deep golden rays cross the late afternoon as the sun slants lower in the west.
A thin grey fog clings coldly to the land.
Rostam Marzani nods slowly to you, then around at the others. "Sayyid Idir has his pipe. Sayyid
Al-Kazid has a flame. You have a scalpel for your blood. What else is needed?"
As she looks through a black leather scribing case then, you say, "I should have everything with me, one moment."
You get out a sheaf of paper from a black leather scribing case in your possession.
Watching Illi Idir, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid straightens somewhat from his lean as if attempting to collect himself in some way. "I do not object," he announces rather more grandly than is probably required when his gaze ticks back to you.
You get out a medium sheet of paper from a sheaf of paper in your possession.
You put a sheaf of paper in a black leather scribing case.
You get out a squat, dark-amber bottle from a black cotton drawstring pouch in your possession.
You get out an inkwell from a black leather scribing case in your possession.
The ship drifts on peacefully.
You get out a feather quill from a black leather scribing case in your possession.
You get out a small ceramic jar from a black leather scribing case in your possession.
You put an inkwell in a black leather scribing case.
You get out a slender scalpel from a black cotton drawstring pouch in your possession.
Rostam Marzani sits downs near the railing, joining a midnight black-haired guy, Illi Idir,
Fadila, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, and Inaya, reflexively folding his legs as he watches the
group, his brow creasing slightly.
Inaya just keeps on scrubbing. For her size, she manages to be somehow incredibly unobtrusive, an invisible presence just doing laundry.
You get out a natural-hued organza headscarf from a tan inikiskin mizuda in your possession.
You drop a natural-hued organza headscarf on the deck.
Fog floats past as the ship glides across smooth waters.
You have emoted: Sitra spreads out a natural-hued organza headscarf upon the deck, using it to then lay out her other items as she comes to kneel in front of the makeshift work area. (Kneel - at on the deck -)
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid opens his mouth as he glances to Inaya and then frowns, closing it. "I will fetch my candle," he offers, striding off towards the forecastle cabins.
A rich mahogany-haired man twitches for a second.
A rich mahogany-haired man visibly struggles to remain conscious.
Forging through the icy fog, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid walks away through the squat cabin door.
Illi Idir straightens to stands near the railing, joining a midnight black-haired guy, Fadila,
Rostam Marzani, and Inaya.
You put a medium sheet of paper on a natural-hued organza headscarf.
The ship flows gently across tranquil waters.
Illi Idir goes to move at the general area.
You drop a small ceramic jar on the deck.
Illi Idir goes to take up a position of prayer or supplication, near to you. (Kneel - at on the deck -)
You have emoted: Sitra inhales deeply before releasing a long exhale, seemingly focusing herself on her task once the objects are laid out before her.
Pale fog brings the smell of cold as it shrouds the land in dampness.
Forging through the icy fog, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid walks through the squat cabin door.
Illi Idir puts a small waxed packet in a soft inikiskin satchel.
Softly, Rostam Marzani says to Illi Idir, "Save it for your head."
The ship tranquilly glides on, cloaked in an ominous haze of fog.
With an elaborately-decorated kandys coat of heavy, dark amethyst silk draped about his shoulders, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid emerges from the forecastle cabins, a squat tallow candle held in one hand. He heads closer to the others, moving to seat himself on the deck close to Rostam Marzani. (Sit - near the railing -)
Rostam Marzani smiles aside at Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, almost bashfully.
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid drops a squat tallow candle near the railing.
A rich mahogany-haired man visibly struggles to remain conscious.
In a soft, almost musical lilt as she uncorks a squat, dark-amber bottle to pour some of the foamy contents into a small ceramic jar, you recite in a moderate yet clarion alto,
"Oh, Holy Exile, accept this offering, freely given, made from your holy tears to gift us with life."
Illi Idir tells Rostam Marzani, with a peer to you: "I understood it was an essential part of the
ritual," then quieting to listen to you.
The ship continues across softly lapping waves.
Softly, so as not to disrupt your chant, Rostam Marzani says to Illi Idir, "Maybe I
misunderstand."
Forging through the icy fog, Zahra al-Dhahab walks through the squat cabin door, with a fluid, feline grace.
The ship drifts on peacefully, cloaked in an ominous haze of fog.
You have emoted: Sitra picks up a slender scalpel then, gazing up to the mist shrouded sky as she presses the blade into the palm of her opposite hand to confidently slice a small, neat wound.
Zahra al-Dhahab slips about the edges of the crowd as she makes for the wooden hatch.
Forging through the icy fog, Zahra al-Dhahab walks away through the wooden hatch, with a fluid, feline grace.
A thin grey fog clings coldly to the land.
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid watches you with an expression of rapt fascination, lips parting ever so slightly. He draws in a breath and then seems to hold it, cradling his splinted arm close to his body while his scarred hand curls into a loose fist.
Extending her hand over a small ceramic jar to allow the blood to drip into the heqet already contained within, you recite in a moderate yet clarion alto,
"Accept this, your child's lifeblood, with my supplication for these lost souls."
The crash of a wave sends a spray of water over the ship's edge while it calmly moves over glimmering waters.
Illi Idir keeps intensely focused on you, still in the position of a quiet supplicant, knelt, head
bowed...though he peers up to you.
Rostam Marzani bows his head slightly as he watches you.
The mist surrounds the ship as it continues across softly lapping waves.
You have emoted: Sitra picks up a small ceramic jar, swirling the contents inside to mix it together as she leans back on her heels. Drawing in a long breath, she grows still, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
The mist swirls eerily across the deck.
You think: Holy Nirzali, hear my prayers. Hear our prayers, to protect and guide us to the safety of home.
Forging through the icy fog, Firouzeh walks through the wooden hatch.
The crash of a wave sends a spray of water over the ship's edge while it flows gently across tranquil waters.
Rostam Marzani looks up at Firouzeh, holding a finger to his lips and inclining his head toward you significantly.
Freezing whorls of fog catch and diffuse the dim daylight, scattering it across the icy
surroundings.
The chill of the surrounding fog does not abate. Its stillness and quiet lingers. Too quiet. Not a gull can be heard, no stirring of wind. Even the creaking timbers of the old ship sound stifled in the frozen gloom.
Firouzeh opens her mouth as if to speak, but before words can escape her throat, she is halted by Rostam Marzani's gesture. Instead, she opts to stand near the wooden hatch, spectating the happenings.
You have emoted: Escaping from under the lashes of her closed eyes, Sitra rocks back forward so she might then capture a pair of tears within a small ceramic jar before giving it another swirl.
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid keeps staring at you, almost completely unmoving but for the gentle rise and fall of his chest and even that is slowed, sluggish.
You notice: You feel distant from Nirzali here, almost as if the mist strives to shroud you from the light of the Outcast star.
Inaya pauses in her scrubbing, turning partially to look back over her shoulder toward you now. She frowns, lips flattening, eyes narrowing just faintly in tension.
You have emoted: Sitra carefully sets a small ceramic jar back down beside a natural-hued organza headscarf, next preparing a feather quill in hand and dipping it into the contents. As she works, she sings a gentle, wordless song.
Rostam Marzani frowns as he lifts his head, looking to Inaya, then past her, into the fog.
The mist surrounds the ship as it continues across softly lapping waves.
Illi Idir continues to shiver now and then, driven by more than just the cold.
You have emoted: Sitra looks briefly upwards towards the sky, the tip of a feather quill hovering
briefly above the paper. Whatever thought she may have is fleeting though, before she starts to pen symbols and script upon the page in the rusty-red 'ink' made of blood, tears and heqet.
The ship beneath you flows gently across tranquil waters.
The soft melody of your song dwindles into the fog. Not echoed, it is swallowed, like a malicious sentience from the atmosphere.
You think: Guide us safely, aid us to defeat this darkness and this silence. Enhance our gifts, keep us safe as we battle this evil here.
Firouzeh's gaze trails away from the ritual for a moment, scanning through thick fog pensively.
The ship beneath you tranquilly glides on.
So fine as to create only a grey haze in the air, the fog nevertheless leaves a glistening rime
upon all it touches.
Almost as if the ritual is awakening something, the fog shifts. The clouds thin and part, separating like tendrils, like stretching claws that creep soundlessly around the group on deck.
You have emoted: Sitra spends a time penning out her prayers, pausing now and again to dip her quill before she seems satisfied. Carefully folding the paper even as the fog glides around them, she looks then to those watching, "I will need the flame next."
Ore slowly, as if afraid to draw attention to himself, Rostam Marzani rises to his feet, staring at the tendrils of mist.
Slowly, as if afraid to draw attention to himself, Rostam Marzani rises to his feet, staring at the tendrils of mist.
Rostam Marzani straightens to stands near the railing, joining a midnight black-haired guy, Fadila, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, and Inaya.
Fog floats past as the ship continues across softly lapping waves.
You take out a medium sheet of paper from a natural-hued organza headscarf.
Using a flint flake and a whittled stick of flotsam, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid lights a squat
tallow candle.
Eerie mist hazes around the hull as the ship moves across serene waves.
You have emoted: Sitra offers a thankful smile to Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid then, extending out the folded paper to catch it aflame before she holds it up towards the heavens. As she does, she sings the same song as before, though this time it's louder, as if trying to pierce through the encroaching mist.
Tugging a flint flake out from a pocket, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid pulls a lit squat tallow
candle into his lap, awkwardly striking away until a tiny flame catches and sparks it, definitely not with a stick or anything like that. A lit squat tallow candle sputters and he cups a hand around it and sets it down again carefully.
The ship calmly moves over glimmering waters, cloaked in an ominous haze of fog.
Seething softly, the mist insinuates itself through the damp air.
Illi Idir loosely holds a pipe in his hands, just frozen in wait.
You think: Carry these prayers to Nirzali's ears, that she might guide us from her heavenly seat.
A lit squat tallow candle burns on.
The ship tranquilly glides on, the scent of the brine thick in the surrounding fog.
There's a sense of menacing poise from the surrounding mist, but nothing happens save a long exhale of air -- the sort of draft that sounds as if it passes through series of horrendous fangs. A terrible feeling of being watched resides over the deck among the small group doing the ritual; a looming and malicious presence watches. It watches and it waits.
Rostam Marzani draws a steel-bladed saber with a knobbed bronze hilt from a long, unadorned leather scabbard with a brass mouth, wordlessly pulling his sword free at that exhalation of air, as though whatever waits out in the fog is something which can be combatted, which can be defeated. He unslings his backpack, setting it softly down.
The ship floats smoothly upon calm waves.
Rostam Marzani removes a large, pebbly-leather backpack.
Rostam Marzani drops a large, pebbly-leather backpack near the railing, setting it softly down.
Abruptly, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid shivers and twists about where he sits, silence broken. "Min mub koja'ata eej!" [in Irzali] he blurts out to the fog, the mist, to the surrounding world. The worlds spill out of him unbidden and unchecked as those violet eyes widen in alarm.
You have emoted: Sitra swirls the burning parchment through the air, wafting the smoke upwards until the paper is nearly entirely consumed into ash. Risingntonher feet, she approaches the side of the ship, releasing the remaining message so that it can float freely away. (Stand - at the general area -)
Firouzeh moves with a slow tensity to her movement, forgoing her cane in favor of soft steps carrying her to the railing. (Stand - near the railing -)
The ship beneath you glides across smooth waters.
Almost imperceptibly the mist begins to thicken into frozen billows of fog, yet the sense of
creeping tension in the air eases off, leaving the pale day with a fragile sense of relief.
Illi Idir shuts his eyes and listens, instead. Blinded to the world, for now.
Inaya glances to Rostam Marzani, then Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, then you again, looking
distinctly uneasy now, lips flattened, jaw set tense.
You have emoted: Sitra draws her song to a soft end, lifting her empty hands up to the sky before pressing them together, the ritual seeming to have drawn to a close.
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid snaps out his scarred hand towards Illi Idir, sort of blindly grasping out at him, for him, in his general direction as he narrows his eyes to glare at the fog.
The mist swirls abruptly around you, tendrils curling like the fingers of a fist -- and then it fades back into the atmosphere. Abruptly, eerily suddenly, that sensation of being watched is gone. But the potent kinetic energy of malice remains, a thick residue that promises ... something. Insanity, perhaps.
Raising his voice to yell out angrily, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid shouts, "Min ETI KOJA!"
A lit squat tallow candle burns pale in the cold air.
The shout raises no reaction from the weather. Did it ever seem strange at all? Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid's voice carries across the water, disappearing into muffled fog.
Beginning to sing, low-voiced, answering the sense of malice that remains behind after the presence leaves, Rostam Marzani sings in a low-toned baritone,
"By the Son of the One, Dreamer of all Dreams
Breaker of bondage, master supreme."
The ship drifts on peacefully.
Rostam Marzani takes out a small, polished prayer stone from a large, pebbly-leather backpack.
Illi Idir starts at the touch from Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, halfway through shivering, and snaps his eyes open, a fright-filled look to him. "It--withdraws. A danger of searching," he expresses, startled into a scattered state. "We can be found."
Inaya cuts another look to Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, but still she does not speak. Her attention shifts - to Rostam Marzani, then Firouzeh. Then Illi Idir.
You have emoted: Sitra stares, stone-faced at the mist, even as she steps reflexively away from it, or attempts to, given its ever looming presence.
If that sense of malice eases away into calm at Rostam Marzani's prayer-song, perhaps it is only in the minds of those gathered. Like a ghost, the broken mast disappears into the fog above, and the old vessel floats onward...
The ship moves across serene waves, cloaked in an ominous haze of fog.
Rostam Marzani leans down to procure a small, polished prayer stone, staring out into the mists. He continues singing, carrying the notes in an untrained voice. "To you alone we give service and praise. Your name alone is on our lips.. to you alone our song is raised."
The ship beneath you flows gently across tranquil waters.
Still fumbling for your hand, Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid twist again to look back at Rostam
Marzani. "Thoza oona eese thoze u oor afihoopeeizzonusee et o soodhal oyazhudeeu dhije thiju, et shimu idoyeemooikhotasoo oojhub ooku oono eel et onejh," he sings in the wake of the older man's words, his own voice strong and clear despite a faint quaver to the melody.
Pale fog brings the smell of cold as it shrouds the land in dampness.
Gripping a small, polished prayer stone in one hand, a steel-bladed saber with a knobbed bronze hilt in the other, echoing Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid now, Rostam Marzani sings in a low-toned baritone,
"Send us the song of the righteous and the songs of sweet accord
And steer us clear of dark nightmare and discord."
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid was fumbling for Illi Idir's hand though, actually.
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid is not as comforted by the prayer as he should be, perhaps. The guilt sticks inside him, twists like a knife in the gut. It should. It should bring him strength. And yet...
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid ....did not emote that though, also obviously.
Illi Idir takes Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid's hand, and he murmurs his own quiet prayer: "Guide us aleipsik this, Saint Ei, we lost leuniag, far from home." [in Standard Elukoi] It's fervently given, and he watches the fog, warily.
The frozen environs cause a drafty flicker of a lit squat tallow candle.
Finishing his song, voice rising defiantly as a lit squat tallow candle flickers, Rostam Marzani sings in a low-toned baritone,
"In the light of your great name, we sing
O Annur, Dreamer of the Dream."
You have emoted: Sitra quietly returns to the middle of the deck as the others pray, seeming to join them silently now, to offer further prayers to her own god.
The ship's deck sways as it hits a wave.
Firouzeh closes her eyes, twisting jade inlayed gold ring around her finger as she offers a hushed prayer to only herself.
Rostam Marzani taps a small, polished prayer stone.
, raising the sword and stone both overhead, clashing a small, polished prayer stone against the blade of something small, polished prayer stone produces a pleasant plinking sound.
Rostam Marzani raises his sword and stone both overhead, clashing a small, polished prayer stone against a steel-bladed saber with a knobbed bronze hilt.
Eerie mist hazes around the hull as the ship moves across serene waves.
Illi Idir speaks. They're wary, uncertain words. "It watches, but it withdraws?" At first, just to himself and Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, but then repeated, a little louder, a little more certain. "It watches, but it withdraws." [in Sirdabi]
"E Ojibh, Oochew o az Ooju," Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid echoes as he grips Illi Idir's hand rather tightly, mumbling the words a bit. He clears his throat, then shifts in his seated position to glare with narrowed eyes at the mist.
So fine as to create only a grey haze in the air, the fog nevertheless leaves a glistening rime
upon all it touches.
Answering Illi Idir, looking over to he and Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid, Rostam Marzani says,
"It is testing our perimeter."
The mist surrounds the ship as it tranquilly glides on.
You have emoted: Sitra opens her eyes to look over at Illi Idir and Ariziya Zakil Sezani
Al-Kazid, nodding in seeming agreement at the former's observation, "It has a lot of malice. I can feel it trying to shield us from Nirzali's gaze, too."
Water laps quietly against the hull. Timber creaks. Faint wind whispers through the mist. From far, very far away, something may still lie in wait -- but for now, that horrible lurking sense of malice is at bay.
Dancing on despite a chilling draft, a lit squat tallow candle gives off a warm orange glow.
"Then it shall find it strong," [in Sirdabi] Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid tells Illi Idir firmly,
giving his hand a last squeeze before he moves to push himself to his feet. A glance is cast to Inaya, then to Rostam Marzani, perhaps seeking some kind of reassurance from one or both. (Stand - near the railing -)
Inaya shifts, abruptly, pushing away from the railing to step off to the fore with only a small frown. She gives no gesture or word of farewell.
Forging through the icy fog, Inaya walks west to the fore.
Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid scans towards west to the fore.
The ship drifts on peacefully.
Illi Idir squeezes back to Ariziya Zakil Sezani Al-Kazid's hand, but keeps staying still knelt, as a
supplicant. He returns to a few quiet prayers. "Afari Kalen; may this time be as a pyre, and we a Sa--imalisa from it eothag. Saint Elen; pray for us." [in Standard Elukoi]
Illi Idir puts a long-stemmed wooden pipe in a soft inikiskin satchel.
Rostam Marzani sheathes a steel-bladed saber with a knobbed bronze hilt in a long, unadorned leather scabbard with a brass mouth.
Abruptly, sliding his sword away, Rostam Marzani hawks and spits over the rail -- into the fog.