The Devil's In The Detail
However, unbeknownst to the peaceful dwellers of these magnificent structures the ground was beginning to birth something new. A corrupted root of soft, clinging vines that writhed in their dark inky horror. Something pulled from the depths of eldritch horror by Lovecraft himself, this plant wished to devour, wished to entangle and root itself into the very fibres of this place. So it curled itself around the foundations, curling eagerly up until it found open windows and unlocked doors. It moved knowingly with purpose, and as sun began to dawn on the new day it moved with haste eager to fester in the darker edges of these buildings were it could thrive. Where it could feed.
When the fiendish plant writhed its way into this particular room it discovered quickly how poor a decision it had made. Roll: 15 For these were not young students able to be pricked and preened to their satisfaction. No these were fully grown wizards and an expert herbologist witch. If the plant life wanted to thrive amongst them it had to be tactical, so unlike its other victims it did not go on the attack but carved its way up the walls covering their exits and masking the growing sunlight to bask them in darkness. A tangled web of inky vines that snuffed out the light and wished to snuff out their lives. As the trio awoke they would be surprised by the darkness of the room, but they knew danger when they felt it and the presence had them ready to draw their wands immediately. Being the talented witch she was Sarai would be able to distinguish the plant as devil's snare with ease, but her intuition knew something was wrong. Devil's snare did not act this way under normal circumstances, something was wrong, something against the natural order.Moderation Note: All characters are considered awake and have access to whatever they wish, the plant is moving towards you but seems to not have successfully managed to get to you yet. Though the exit of the doorway is currently covered with these black tendril vines.
"I see with more than my eyes, so I may guide the way for those who cannot."
- Lawrence Maynard, Grand Seer of Tenūsa
- Lawrence Maynard, Grand Seer of Tenūsa
The Devil's In The Detail
───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Terrible Presence in Effect
| Aura of Unease Present |
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There is something that is just... not right about him. A chill in the air, a sense felt deep in the bones. The shadows might seem more lively, the night might play more tricks on his opponents' eyes. Yet there is one, undeniable truth -- the source is him.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── The air was difficult to breathe, catching in his lungs as like brine-filled air heavy with salt and spoils of rain to come. It smelled of the sea, of salt-sprayed stones and jagged rocks that crowed land like crooked teeth--like the pointed prongs of a dark crown. It was a scent he remembered from his childhood, as he had leaned out of the window of the Nursery when he was a young lad. The scent of the Adriatic Sea, that which would flow into the Mediterranean from its little pocket in the side of Italy. A scent of the Adriatic, to the East of the Chiadovini Demesne.
Yet this was not home. The scent of salt was not merely sourced from the glittering cerulean sea.
It was difficult to breathe, for indeed he could not breathe. The very air itself was resistance against a full breath, a filling of his lungs. Yet as the discomfort continued, he could not find it in himself to struggle. The hollow and fruitless attempts continued, but to neither effect nor distress until a lightheadedness consumed him and he collapsed to his knees. The crashing of waves became a steady percussion in his ears, the hiss of the withdrawing tide and the collapse of waves on the arrival. An ebb and flow, a perpetual movement. Give, and take.
When one rose, the other fell. As one head lifts, the other must lay its chin upon its breast. The wheel turning, O Fortuna.
Finally a sputter. Black feathers fell through his lips, sprinkled in sanguine.
Blossoms of crimson blotted its way through snow-white shirt as breast began to bleed.
His heart had never been beating, though it felt for some reason punctured. Stagnant, cold.
He sought to lift his eyes to the skies, to search for a cause in the stars. To find something familiar.
His old friends winked back down at him. They would live and die long after his name was forgotten and his remains returned to dust. Witnesses of his birth, witnesses in death. Hope and faith, renewal and inspiration. Ad astra... Ad astra...
A hypnic jerk would force the Seer back into the waking realm in a cold sweat despite a lack of restlessness leading up to his awakening. Memories came back quickly; Noé and he had determined to take advantage of the gracious event at Tenūsa as an opportunity to interact with other users of the art of Divination as well as to further Noé's own personal desire to further his own work and research on his theory of the intersection and formation of "leylines" at or around sites of historical, persistent, or feats of fantastic, magic. Noé had decided to take his research in the village itself, meanwhile Leonardo had favored a slightly more reclusive option... and by good fortune had come across the Mister of the Toussaint-Fleischers couple. He had found Fabian to be quite a respectable man, especially garnered from the results of a commission he had requested of him in the later months of the previous year, and as of so far after meeting "his better half" for himself, he perceived the Missus Toussaint-Fleischer to be similarly charming and impressive in her own realm of study and work.
Macbeth was screeching on his pedestal nearby, a high-pitched and splitting call that Leonardo had never observed of his faithful companion of six years except for when the creature had been harassed by other owls much larger then him. "Macbeth?" He murmured as he blinked in the blinding dark. "Little one, shh shh. What is the matter..." He willed his eyesight to come to him, but found himself still blinded by the abysmal counterfeit night.
This was not right. Night was not entirely darkness as like a womb... or tomb. The phase of the moon tonight from their current hemisphere should have been a full moon. Had not there been a general notification for the visiting werewolf population to go together to their communal place? It was strange, but a delightful strangeness, that the Isle of Divination so respected the Lycanthrope nature similarly to Uagadau. With the times as they were... those that were of the disposition needed to stick together.
But there was no full moonlight to be seen, and Macbeth continued to cry. Instinctively the wand was in his hand, having been stashed under the pillow, the riding-crop loop slipped over his wrist as he settled the implement comfortably in his left hand. What were those impressions on the walls? Grain of wood or something protruding from them? The door to the entrance and exit of the house? It too was blackened, darkened. Blocked?
It was a matter of preference that he did not appreciate the impression of being trapped.
"What sort of devilish...?" While his specialty had lain in Divination, as a pupil he had not slacked in matters of Herbology either. He was good at making guesses and utilizing his faculties of logic in application to a situation that featured a suspiciously quaint alignment with a recognizable element. Macbeth was ushered onto his shoulder and then the man covered the raptor's sensitive eyes as he closed his own. "Chamberfellows, I mean no alarm, but we appear to have a situation on our hands! I, for one, am electing to turn on the lights. Lumos Solem!"
With a fantastic concentration of will, he intended not to simply create the sunlight, but to amplify it similarly to a starburst. A flash of light like that of the muggle flash photography, and then to resume consistent light. It was a spell that he had used to teach to the students of Hogwarts, for the purpose of warding off night creatures and certain plants alike.
Action: Spell Spread Lumos Solem
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Reducio
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─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Statistics & Abilities
Stamina 7 ⬥ Strength 1 ⬥ Evasion 10 ⬥ Wisdom 15 ⬥ Accuracy 14 ⬥ Arcane Power 18
Seer ⬥ Fearless ⬥ Advanced Casting ⬥ Terrible Presence ⬥ Spell Spread ⬥ Crucio─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Seer⬥ Uncanny Insight ~ 10% Auto-Dodge & Auto-Hit Rate
⬥ Prophesy ~ Vision Occurrence Chance 1ce/Thread (1/1)
⬥ Indiscriminate Knowledge ~ No Critical Failure Chance & +1 Critical Success Range
⬥ Fatespinning ~ Reroll an Ability Check 3ce/Thread (3/3)
⬥ Prophesy ~ Vision Occurrence Chance 1ce/Thread (1/1)
⬥ Indiscriminate Knowledge ~ No Critical Failure Chance & +1 Critical Success Range
⬥ Fatespinning ~ Reroll an Ability Check 3ce/Thread (3/3)
Fearless ~ Immunity to Fear Effects, Spells, and PotionsAdvanced Casting ~ +1 Critical Success Range while Casting SpellsTerrible Presence ~ Aura of +1 Critical Failure and 10% Automiss & Damage ReductionSpell Spread ~ +2 Wisdom DC, +1 Critical Failure Range, -2 Accuracy, +1 TargetCrucio ~ Capability of Casting the Unforgivable Torturing Curse─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
@Fabian Toussaint-Fleischer & @Sarai Toussaint-Fleischer
⟣𝙱𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚜, / 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜⟢
The Devil's In The Detail
FINAL MODERATION OF PART ONEOf the trio rooming in this particular homestead, only @Leonardo Chiadovini leapt to action when the vines attacked. His spell-spread Lumos Solem did enough to keep the vines from latching on to any of them, effectively scaring them off. Meanwhile, the adorable husband and wife, @Fabian Toussaint-Fleischer and @Sarai Toussaint-Fleischer, were still sleeping soundly, as if their dreams were far more interesting than real life. Perhaps they were jointly dreaming of Aulis.
Standing in for Lawrence in this moderation round to end part 1 of the event!
Suddenly, all of the roommates - all left standing (or sleeping) - were free to leave as they wished, because as if the screams of children elsewhere had piqued their interest, the vines shrunk back into nothingness and vanished seemingly into thin air. Perhaps the group could proceed to part two and meet up with the other residents of the Traveller Wagons and the Rumah Adat...
Rolls:
Reducio
This part of the event has concluded. Your character can proceed to the optional part two if they want, or you can stop your participation and be glad you escaped!
The thread will remain open if you want to post a reaction/exit post, but no more moderations will be conducted here.
The thread will remain open if you want to post a reaction/exit post, but no more moderations will be conducted here.