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abraxaslogs2021-12-17 12:09 am
- alucard; the hierophant,
- castiel; the hanged man,
- estinien wyrmblood; the hermit,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- goro; the chariot,
- hector; the magician,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- inej ghafa; the hierophant,
- kylo ren; the tower,
- leonard mccoy; the lovers,
- ronan lynch; the moon,
- sam wilson; justice,
- sasarai; judgement,
- stephen strange; death
The Mission
The Dimmest Day is upon us.
The champions of Thorne seek to deliver their caskets safely to the central artifact of the Singularity. Opposing them are the champions of the Free Cities and Solvunn, who are charged with intercepting as many caskets as they can and carrying them safely back to their respective factions— but each is also charged with preventing the other from doing the same.
From across Abraxas, in the dead of night, three groups of the Summoned converge on the Singularity. What they do here will have lasting effects on the world and every other beyond it.
Pleased to see a healthy number of volunteers gathered at the Empty Throne, Ambrose allows his champions a moment to savor the vocal appreciation of the gathered crowd ringing the courtyard. Thorneans applaud and cheer, and Frederick, previously this year's Elected sacrifice, looks beyond relieved. High above, the King and Queen emerge on the Royal balcony, and without any further warning the gathered crowd breaks into song— an ancient hymn of thanksgiving that feels very awkwardly like a prayer being directed towards the Summoned themselves.
Along with black leather sling packs for carrying the caskets and a lantern each, a group of apprentices bring forth pieces of armor, enchanted rings and circlets, all of them offered as temporary loans to Thorne's champions who could use a little aid in their work. These hold simple defensive and life-preserving spells, presumably a small hoard of trinkets kept aside from the usual Dimming sacrifice: putting them on may grant added resistance to magical attack, a boost to existing magical ability, or increase an individual's speed, strength or dexterity. Once everything is distributed, Ambrose himself passes out the caskets, taking great care to hand each one over with a stern, steady stare.
Even tapping into the emergency storage of magical energy provided by an ornate reliquary placed behind the throne, it takes the efforts of all the assembled Thornean mages together to open the portal that will deliver the Summoned to the crater's edge. Ambrose explains that due to the Dimming, they won't be able to create another to bring his champions home until the sun rises— and only then if the mission to restore the Singularity is successful. Everything rests with the Summoned, now. They must not fail.
Aleksander's laboratory is exactly the kind of mad scientist with access to magic take on Leonardo DaVinci's workshop you might expect. Strange, chemically powered devices bubble and tick. Doves flutter and coo anxiously in cages. A couple of ominous metal exam tables with leather restraint cuffs bolted to them have been pushed back to the walls to make room for a large contraption that looks like a cartoonish steampunk ray gun, far taller than a man, aimed at a hastily painted bullseye target on a raised metal platform. Surrounding it are strange alchemic sigils burned into the floor. It becomes clear all too soon that this is the method of transport the champions of the Free Cities will be using to get to the Singularity for their mission. This is a very tech-heavy flavor of New Magic.
Assistants usher the Summoned towards the platform and offer a range of odd hand-held devices and wearable tech for anyone who would like a little extra boost. Alongside chemically powered lanterns, the Summoned are invited to pick up energy dispersing chestplates, power-assisted boots for increased speed or spring in a step and so on— though it's fair to say Aleksander's creations do all look like they might be more in the experimental stage.
Charged using a device some of the Summoned might recognize from Alexander's holiday experiment at the Circus of the Sciences, the transporter ray is ready to deliver the Free Cities' champions to the Singularity. Set on a timer, the device will activate a second time at dawn to generate a gateway to welcome them home with their winnings. Aleksander wishes them good fortune, ensures everyone is properly situated on the platform, and with a pull of a lever sends them on their mission.
By the Solstice itself, a great unlit pyre topped with a strange, crude effigy of a creature resembling a bear has been built in the middle of the town, encircled by a group of seven mages in elaborate masked costumes representing elements of the landscape around them— rocks, fields, forests and streams. But Rowan, who the Summoned have been directed to report to, is not among them. He stands by a smaller fire, uncharacteristically solemn. It is time for Solvunn and its champions to receive their blessings, though as always these come with a price.
Rowan directs each of the group to step up in turn and surrender something to the flames. These sacrifices can be small, but they must belong to the person giving them up. A garment they are wearing would suffice, or even just a lock of hair, a drop of blood, a clipped fingernail. These gifts, Rowan explains, will link each of the Summoned with a blessing they can carry with them as they travel to the Singularity.
Another mage wearing an elaborate antlered headdress bestows the blessings as the Summoned give their gifts, dipping an elegant hand into the flames and drawing a strange runic sigil onto their foreheads with the ash of the ceremonial fire— and instantly, the Summoned may feel they have received increased vitality, strength, speed, enhanced visual or auditory acuity. They are handed a lantern each and instructed to stand aside as the mages ask the gods to light their path, and once all gifts are distributed, the gathered mages lift their arms and begin to chant. A fiery tendril leaps from the sacrificial fire to the main pyre itself in a crackling arc that sustains itself there in the air, forming a doorway to the edge of the Singularity’s crater. This passage of fire will remain passable in either direction until the great pyre burns down to embers.
The more perceptive of the group may catch sight of huge, formless shadows moving at the very edge of their vision as they step through the fiery arch.
When each faction's group of champions emerge on the other side, they find themselves delivered to the closest point around the rim of the Singularity's crater to their home faction. A few miles in diameter and several feet deep, the crater is a strangely, perfectly circular depression in the desert with the towering monolith of the Singularity itself glowing faintly visible through the dark of night at its center— and unlike the last time the Summoned were brought here, they have time to catch their breath and let their eyes adjust, if they wish. Muted and diminished, the Singularity makes no attempt to draw the Summoned to itself. To approach it, they will have to walk.
Physically breaching the border of the crater makes shivers run down spines and hairs stand on end, but it seems Ambrose was right. Rather than being yanked without ceremony into the metaphysical realm of the Horizon, the Summoned are able to make their careful way over the sloping rim of the crater, where each party will be able to catch sight of lights moving in the darkness as the Summoned of other factions climb down to the arena of the crater's smoothly featureless floor.
The desert air is cold and clear in the dark of night, sound carrying easily across the distance between the three parties. Raised on its rocky plinth, the towering statue of the Singularity beckons. The Dimming reaches its nadir as the Summoned of each faction march towards inevitable conflict.
no subject
“Give me a moment first,” he says, glancing over his shoulder to still any urgency to fling a casket at the thing. He’s sure she must be eager after what she’s been through to get here. “I need a baseline to compare.”
With that, Stephen reaches out to press a palm flat against the monolith.
no subject
There is power here. Immense and ancient. Stephen's abilities allow him to detect that the Singularity is indeed connected to a vast number of realities, though he isn't able to reach through it to touch them. There's a sense too of weariness, or sickness, or hunger, though not in any way that could be directly comparable to human experience.
Something unseen tugs at the casket Yennefer is carrying, urging her to release it.
no subject
Stephen's appearance alongside her means little, but when he tells her to wait, he will get an honest and less-than-thrilled glare in return. She wants to get this over with, but she also understands the reasoning, so she will wait. Wait, and watch, taking in anything she can from the distance she remains. It's not until Stephen actually touches the Singularity, though, that Yennefer notices the tugging from the casket.
"Strange." She says, as a warning, her eyes down on the casket itself. She focuses her own chaos on it, trying to get a sense (for herself, if anything) of what if there is anything more that this or the Singularity want, beyond just being connected.
no subject
Even so, he frowns. He senses, too, the entanglement of the monolith with so many worlds—the fractal web of what he can assume is the multiverse—and to feel a deep weariness within it isn’t exactly the most reassuring. If the Singularity is a heartbeat, pushing venous magic into the universe as a whole, if it were to fail, he can’t imagine the consequences.
Looking back at Yennefer, he remains with his hand flat against the hard surface.
“It’s tired, lacking.” A pointed look at the casket. “Probably eager for your offering. Go ahead and let it have it, if you’re ready.”
no subject
Still - the urge from within the casket is present, it's physical, and the second she meet's Stephen's eyes she nods and moves forward until she's close enough to the Singularity itself to get a sense of its power. Close enough that the feeling, the magic, the fading sense of it all is unmistakable. That is when she offers the casket forward - letting that pull, that attraction, pull the object from her hands without much fight.
no subject
As the casket hovers in mid-air, the strange material under Stephen's hand warms slightly. There's a sense of anticipation, a sharp pang of hunger, and the smooth leaden casing of the casket develops a brightly glowing seam around its middle that splits open to release its contents: a thickly fluid ball of light, too bright to look at.
Instantly, Singularity pulls it into a long wisping string and swallows it up. A warm pulse of energy flares out in a perfect circle from the monolith, the tingling shock wave passing through both Stephen and Yennefer's bodies without obvious effect, though they may feel as if the buzz has restored a little of their own energy too. The two halves of the empty casket fall to the ground with a heavy thud.
For a moment, the Singularity seems to vibrate as if struck, but as soon as the light from the casket is snuffed out, it stills. Compared to only moments ago it seems just a little stronger now. Its pulse is less thready, and the rhythmic ebb and flow of its energy cycles a fraction faster. Any effect it might have had on the multitude of realities beyond this one is however difficult to determine.
For the next few days, Stephen will be able to comprehend the (often bawdy) lyrics of birdsong. Yennefer will be able to shape small measures of water into simple forms by touching it with her fingertip.