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| Action Id: 2896 | Crisis: | Participants: Victus, Alarissa, Magpie, Jasher, Vanora, Harper, Mikani, Lethe, Auda(RIP) and Nuala | |
| Status: Resolved | Submitted: Jan. 7, 2019, 8:48 p.m. | Public: True | GM: Puffin |
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Action by Victus
It is the 13th day of the month and the 12th hour has just dawned in Maelstrom. High Lord Victus Thrax has gathered his retinue and those willing to attend this ceremony at Maelstrom's memorial of swords. The same field that Victus had prepared for the dead and unrecovered of the Gyre war. Attendees stand among the blades of the fallen, with a raging bonfire having been sent at the epicenter of the field. Victus has sat here for the past few hours, meditating upon the work yet to be done. When all is gathered and the hour at turns over to the 13th, it begins.
"Tonight, I am here to show you my vision of the world. Of the dream. Of how I would shape it and most importantly, how I would help it." The High Lord begins, addressing the crowd. "I show you this because our world must be healed. Because it is our duty be it as noble or common, good or evil, and light or dark to restore what has been lost. Tonight, I perform this duty. Tomorrow, one of you will perform this duty. Then another, and another, and another..." Victus draws in a breath as he stares into the flames. "Here we go."
The first item he brings before the fire is a red and aqua banner of House Thrax.
"My first vision is one of home." He explains. "Thrax. The Mourning Isles. Where I was born and where I hope to rest when my time here is done. My House is my calling, my service to its name is everything to me. Every step I take, every motion I make, it will always be for Thrax. For Home. Never will my vision exist without my House present. This is what this banner represents to me." He casts the banner into the flames.
The second item he holds is an armful of children's toys. Wooden swords, tiny makeshift boats, rattles, teddy bears and other plush animals.
"My second vision are my children." Victus speaks, a far-off look in his eyes tonight. "The world surprises me in many ways throughout my life. The most surprising perhaps is the very idea that I would bear children and come to love my offspring as much as any father could. I had never thought a day would come where I would cosign so much of my life to nurturing a babe. So much time dedicated to love. Astrid. Danse. Siggy. Delia. In each of their faces I have seen a new light. When I look to these simple toys, I see that light reflecting back at me. Hope." He casts the toys into the flames.
The third item brought forward is a simple sash of aeterna.
"My wife." Victus' eyes reflect a fondness. "It is the duty of nobility to marry and solidfy their family's influence. Yet so few marriages end in finding one that completes you. I say it with no doubt in my heart that Alarissa has filled a spot in my life, perhaps even in my soul that I would have never guessed. She was once a griffon, next a drake, and now one of the many serpents that coil around our homeland. With her, I have security. The sturdy platform that reminds me that in the end, we will prevail. No matter the odds. These little pieces of fabric, the expensive and the flashy will always remind me of her." He casts the sash into the flames.
The fourth item he takes into hand is but a stone, carved with a simple rune.
Victus stares at this little trinket for sometime before he's able to speak on it. "Mother. I have so many thoughts for this part of my vision. Yet, so few actual words to do them justice." He turns the runestone over in his hand. "In her spirit I found something I'd been looking for, for a very long time. Purpose. How to live my life not in excess, but as a man of my station should. Were it not for her, I wouldn't have taken the pathes I have. I wouldn't have realized the right choices. For that... she will always be a part of me. One I will always cherish." He casts the runestone into the flames.
The fifth item is a bundle. Unwrapped from its linens, it reveals a group of seashells.
These bring a grin to Victus' face. "I've collected these from every Isle where Thrax holds dominion. Tyde Hall. Grihem's Point. Escuma. Redkeep. Astarrea. Whitefrost. New Hope. Redreef Shores. Darkwater Watch. Stormward. More. Each of these pieces come from the shores of Thrax's people. The people who I serve, the people who I swore an oath to protect. The people of the salt. Their hopes, their dreams, their survival. All things that I hope to see prosper in my dream of the world." He tosses the shells into the flame, one by one.
The sixth item is a familiar one. An unopened bottle of rum.
This one Victus looks on with a frown. "I see a lot of things when I look at this bottle. Merriment, yes. Comfort also. But tonight I look at it in a different light. Tonight, the only thing I see myself holding is a vessel of regret." The High Lord grimaced. "I did many stupid things that ended in me staring at the bottom of the bottle. I was a brutish man. A cruel man. A man who took no responsibility seriously. A man much less than who I aspired to be. Insecurity and doubt wracked my days beneath this bottle. In this self-reflection, I acknowledge these mistakes as mine and mine alone to carry. Though I have atoned for much, I still see a stretch of road left ahead of me. It is my vision to free myself of who I was, so I may propser as who I truly am." He casts the rum into the fire.
The seventh item Victus brings forward is an old, beaten axe handle.
"My first weapon." He speaks and then he chuckles grimly. "It lost its head ages ago, broken off and fallen into the sea. It is a momento of my past. A past that I look on often for guidance and lessons as I move into the future." He raps the top of the handle against his palm. "I recall carrying this with me through much of my childhood. Through the days I was punished or rewarded by my Uncle. Through the days of training to lead, to fight. To follow my elders and have my cousins follow me while they were small. When I swung for my first honorable kill. When I led my first band of soldiers into the breach." The memories pass by fondly. "I'd never forget where I came from. Never in my vision of the world." He tosses the handle into the flames.
The eighth item he has is not present at first. Rather, it appears exactly when its supposed to. Victus reaches for the left arm of his coat and tears a fresh article of leather from it.
"This coat has served me for years. Weathered storms. Blocked blades and arrows. It has as many scars as I've collected and yet, still it serves as my hide. Protects me from harm." Victus lets out another chuckle. "I wouldn't trade this coat for anything. For me it represents what I find to be the greatest quality any can have, and one I have aspired to nurture for all my time. The strength of perseverance. The strength to endure. The strength to keep going. The rock that sits in the center of the river, a literal tapestry of the lands I've walked and the dangers I've faced. It is as much a part of me as my own flesh and bones." He tosses the leather scrap into the flames.
The ninth item is presented as a broken sword.
"Another momento of mine." Victus explains. "I took this from a battlefield, long ago. Whether it was Tyde Hall, whether it was the Silent War, whether it was simply a reaving... I have no idea. But now I use this as a vessel of my dream. Of the battles I have fought. Of the honor I have sought to bring in every fight against the Compact's enemies, to the light I hope to outshine the darkness of the Abyss that we work to defend against. I have fought many battles. I will fight in many more. It will always be a part of me. Likely one day, I will day by battle. Whether that is to be or not to be is not up to me... But until then, I must acknowledge what I excel at. And how I will continue to bring honor by the sword, axe, mace, and everything else. This is what this broken, weathered piece of steel represents to me." He tosses the sword into the flames.
The tenth item brought forward is a rather luxurious one. It is a breastplate made of the finest high quality steel, covered in emblems and honors of Thrax proper. Ceremonial.
"I owe Thrax many things. Not the least of which is our sense of tradition. For the institutions that have held my seat and my charge together are where we draw our strength as a people." Victus lifts the breastplate high, letting the waning sun catch its glint. "I do not wish to live in a world where we've forgotten homage to our deepest traditions. Hence I cosign this piece of it to the fires, so this vision of mine might burn brightly. May we never stray far from our roots. May it last long." He tosses the breastplate into the flames.
The eleventh item is soft linen bag, jingling with the weight of stones inside it. "Never call me a creative man, for you would be very wrong."
Within its contents is a series of pearls. "I've had a pearl fashioned to represent those who are dear to me. Not in the sense of bloodline. Not in the sense of their service to the Isles. But simply in their camraderie. Companions. Friends. I have few of them. I have just as many as I need as well." He lets the pearls fall into his palm, one after another. "And the pearl is perhaps my favorite stone. Christened straight from the ocean. I use them to show my appreciation for those who have aided my journey up to this point and how important their contribution to my world has been. Their names are close in my heart as I cosign these symbols to the flames..." He tosses the pearls into the fire.
The twelfth item is perhaps a strange one for any but an islander to be using. It is three inches of iron chain.
"The chains are a fickle symbol." Victus says with a demure expression. "Used to bind. For darkness and for light. They are but a tool, however. A tool that is shaped by its creator's vision. Tonight, I share it with a noble purpose. I share it to invoke a dream of mine that I have held since I was a little one. Unity. United as a people. United as the Isles. United against the darkness, united against the creatures that would sack our homes, united in survival. United in purpose. United in duty. United in honor. This chain stands to show all of these things. As a strong link. A link to bond, not in slavery, but in a shared noble purpose." He casts the chains into the flames.
Finally, they arrive to the thirteenth and final offering of the rite. Victus holds nothing.
For awhile, there is nothing but silence. Victus' gaze remains locked onto the flames. "Loyalty is perhaps the most important quality I aspire to see in everyone. I have spoken much of oaths, promises, pledges, responsibilities and duty tonight. Preaching almost of their importance. Of adhering to tradition, of learning from one's mistakes, of valuing those around us. What kind of man would I be if I did not reaffirm these things myself?" Slowly he draws that alaricite axe from his back. "I make my final offering as a pledge. A reaffirming of things I spoke before the Gods long ago. I seal it with something of my own body. For this is the strength of my loyalty to my ideals, my principles and my cause."
Victus cuts the braided ponytail he sported, half of his hair gone just like that as the alaricite slices through it like nothing. As the strands flutter, he holds the tail over the flame - the ends catching fire as the flames travel upwards. His own hand getting singed. "We fight. We protect. We guard. Not for ourselves. Not for our own glory, but for the preservation of the world. I will uphold. I will not bend or break. I will fight to preserve." Every word comes with conviction. Conviction that is added to the flames, for the rite's benefit.
Then he draws his hand away, a fresh burn on the back of it as the rest of his cut locks fall into the pyre. Thirteen things offered on the thirteenth hour of the thirteenth day. In the heart of Thrax, Maelstrom. Victus slowly raises his head and looks upon the embers. Looks upon what he has done here today. "I can only hope this is enough. I want you all to hope with me. Carry that hope with you when you perform this yourselves. For our world will be made stronger by it."
With that, their grim business is complete.
Action by Alarissa
Alarissa is present in Maelstrom as the ritual is started and has been through it all - that is a piece of Aeterna from her dress after all. She stands quietly, with their oldest daughter standing in front of her, warm cloaks around their shoulders and observes.
Action by Lethe
Lethe is there to watch Victus perform the ritual. She plans to pay close attention and learn the rite of cleansing.
Action by Magpie
Magpie watches the ritual as quietly as the others, but partway through he reaches an arm around Harper's shoulders and draws her close in an embrace that he doesn't release until the High Lord has finished.
Action by Mikani
Mikani watches her dark eyes taking in the ritual as if memorizing it and giving it the reverence it deserves. In the moment she feels the one-ness of the group.
Action by Auda(RIP)
Auda's hear to support and witness, nothing more. She watches closely, as if she's trying to memorize the night and all it encompasses.
Action by Nuala
Nuala remains an attentive participant at the ritual, playing close watch to everything that Victus does. She may take notes afterward, but everything she does is focused wholly upon the specifics of the rite.
Action by Vanora
Vanora observes the ritual attentively, attempting to commit the basics to memory. She listens to Victus' words with reverence and respect, sincerely thanking him for the opportunity to do so.
Action by Jasher
Jasher stands in attendance, a black wraith in silent vigil amidst Maelstrom's memorial of swords. He will listen to Victus' words with varying degrees of emotion flickering like the firelight across his face; some of the High Lord's paths tread closer to his than others, it seems. At the end, when the thirteenth offering is made and the words are spoken, Jasher will /hope/. He will /dare/ to hope that it will be enough.
Action by Harper
Harper is there in her full armor, standing straight and at attention as Victus performs his ritual. She will watch and learn, as requested, deep respect shining on her face at the High Lord's words.
Result
On the 13th hour of the 13th day, Victus gathers people to watch his rite of cleansing. "Tonight, I am here to show you my vision of the world. Of the dream. Of how I would shape it and most importantly, how I would help it." The High Lord begins, addressing the crowd. "I show you this because our world must be healed. Because it is our duty be it as noble or common, good or evil, and light or dark to restore what has been lost. Tonight, I perform this duty. Tomorrow, one of you will perform this duty. Then another, and another, and another..." Victus draws in a breath as he stares into the flames. "Here we go."
Even now, even before the ritual starts, a feel of heavy duty lays across everyone's shoulders. Victus stands tall though, and as he feeds that first thing to the flames - a banner of aqua and red, the symbol of House Thrax - even as he gives that to the flames there is the knowledge that this man is very aware of the burden that lays upon his shoulders. Heavy the weight of his duty, and everyone in the room knows how seriously he takes that.
He speaks of the honor of the House. Of the responsibility he has to care for it, to guide Thrax into the future. Of his love for his children, his hope that they will inherit a better future. Of his wife, who provides a stability for him even as he forges a new path for Thrax. Of his mother. A rock, with a rune on it. To symbolize his mother - and in that moment, that sense of heavy responsibility becomes something more.
As they stand for Victus' rite, watching him, all of them hear the sounds of battle dimly, as though the clang of swords is distant and untouchable. And yet there is a lifting of their spirits as he speaks of right choices, of duties befitting his station. There's a change in the air now as he adds seashells and a bottle of rum, and an old axe handle. Leather and mementos from the past, given to the fire. Symbols of hope, of old evils left behind, of new paths to forge anew.
And then he speaks of unity, offering chains and lastly a braid of his hair. And he speaks of loyalty and hope. It's a good vision, and together they listen to the sounds of battle - coming closer, moving away - but the feel of it changes. Where before there was grim duty and future slaughter, now there is the righteous battle to protect all that is loved. Everything he holds dear. The man has been by turns brutish and self-serving, and kind and self-sacrificing. And as the ritual concludes the fire suddenly flares, for a moment too bright to view, too bright to withstand.
And then it ebbs again, and they are left with a feeling of hope, taking a breath in this new moment where the High Lord of Thrax is a fighter for justice, and for right, and for a future of freedom for all. He is changed, cleansed anew with the ritual and by his will. And nothing will ever be quite the same.