Open How Do You Like Your Eggs?

A surprise visitor in the middle of Spring- is it a gift? or a curse?

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Prophet on April 16th, 2017, 4:24 am

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Happy Easter, Ravokians
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46th of Spring
Just before 6th Bell


The twin sets of four guards who stood watch outside the Temple of the Black Sun had held yet another boring night of listening to the water lap about the burned out pylons and chasing shadows. Some Ebonstryfe did not believe that the Rising Dawn had been obliterated and a small percentage of this group was fanatical in its conspiracy theories. One such man was on duty and every breeze; every creak of an old board sent him running after hooligans and bandits that vanished into nothing more than some dark fantasy unfulfilled. The men were tired and longed for the change of shift which was nearing as the sky began to lighten with the approaching sun.

Syna’s rise was magnificent. The sky over the placid waters of Lake Ravok splintered in shards of purple, red, orange and an almost luminescent mix of everything in between. One of the soldiers remarked how he wished he could paint while another spoke a solemn truth that no mortal could capture such a beautiful scene. These were not the normal sarcastic notes of two gruff men but the earnest longings and appreciations of human hearts as they beheld the awesome power of the gods.

“Commander!” The Stryfe who cried wolf was at it again. The men were pried away from the natural beauty of the world to investigate yet another hollow lead. The man’s voice was desperate as he called out again and the level of fear seemed more genuine than the other six times so the group of black-armored soldiers hustled around the side of the building to where the front of the temple used to stand.

“What is it, sold-“ The Commander lost his words as his eyes found the answer to the question he never got to finish. The hardened men of the Ebonstryfe patrol gasped and one even slipped a ‘Rhysol’s Eye!’ into the mix.

Floating a few feet away from where the original front doors of the Temple was a giant shape. The dim light of morning didn’t reveal much so the men passed down torches and spread out to examine it further. It was big. The water seemed to hide much of the object but the troops on duty lowered one of their men down onto the ruined pylons so he could get a closer look. The man used his torch to roll the fire almost against the floating piece of debris. The surface was perfectly smooth from a distance but it had a bumpy surface.

“It…well, it’s only got the top part out of the water. It probably as a big as a horse if you folded one up.” He pushed on the surface of the object with a brief touch, then a longer one and then he ran his hand across it. His brow furrowed and he turned to face his officer. “It feels like a big ol’ egg, sir.” The Commander dispatched a runner to the Vitrax. More important and better paid men than him were going to decide the fate of this…egg.


7th Bell


Ravosalas lined the City Center as word had spread quickly of the discovery (as all things do in Ravok). People from every part of the floating paradise had turned out to witness the spectacle of what lay before them. The Ebonstryfe was lined up six deep around the courtyard protecting the egg. The Black Sun had acted quickly and extracted the thing from the water within chimes of finding out about its existence. A stand was made from interlocking spears in a pentagon pattern which very much resembled a black nest of deadly twigs. The egg was easily as tall as the tallest man and had a diameter of some of the mighty oaks that lived deep in the wildlands.

There was no denying that it was an egg. It had the very shape of any egg anyone had ever seen and even the texture of shells. There was a tiny hairline crack at the top about a foot down that ran horizontally but nothing had seeped out to this point. To be safe, a ring of glyphs had been set up and activated which acted as a series of shields. When one failed, another was triggered by the vacancy of djed and encased the object. This made management of its protection a regular but unstressful detail.

The Druvin had not come out to address the throng of citizens but there were plenty of Black Sun officials who milled about behind the wall of Ebonstryfe shields and armor. For the most part, people just wanted to see the thing. Some artists were arrested for climbing the wall of the Vitrax to try and paint it. Food vendors set up in floating rafts created by tethering several ravosalas together and sold their wares to the eager and curious folk. Some people wished to make praises for the divine present sent by their savior, Rhysol. In truth, nobody knew what it was, where it came from or what to expect.


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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Artigan Crowley on April 16th, 2017, 5:04 am

“Did you hear? You’ll never believe it.”



Artigan wasn’t at all used to waking up at sunrise, and, if he’d had the choice, would have gladly slept for another bell or two before rising to the day. But dogs were odd creatures, and Druva had woken up absurdly early to trot loudly around the apartment, sniffing and whining at what was probably a mouse making a grab for the leftover bread. The young man had tried and failed to ignore it, eventually sighing and getting up to take Druva for a walk to burn her energy and wake himself up.

He hadn’t even intended to take her for more than a quick circle around the plaza––there weren’t many people about yet, and as such, not much excitement––but a passing ravosalaman had spotted him and waved him over frantically.

The story he told was too wild to ignore.

Quickly, Artigan dashed back to the apartment to put Druva back home, then returned to the canal and asked to get the the city center as fast as physically possible.

Artigan arrived half-past the sixth bell, one of several early risers that had heard the news. He immediately moved as close as he could to see the spectacle, mindful of the layers of Ebonstryfe, but could only see the barest hint as it peeked over even the tallest of its guards.

An egg. A giant, hulking egg, right in the middle of the city. An egg, it seemed, with a visible crack wreathing the top like a crown.

Needless to say, he had never seen a cracked egg that wasn't food and therefore tended to assume that any crack in an egg was dangerous to the inhabitant.

Oh dear, was Artigan’s first thought at the sight of the crack. I do hope it’s alright.

As if worrying about “it” would do any good; even without six layers of Stryfe poised protectively around it and Black Sun officials fluttering around, he doubted that there was much to be done even if the egg was damaged.

But he hoped to know, at least. Artigan lingered, unable to just leave. He watched the crowd swell as the ravosalamen spread word and brought the entire city to witness the strange scene, then go so far as to rope their vessels together to let vendors sell food. More than one artist was arrested for trying to climb something they shouldn’t, and so he thought it best to keep his head down.

Still, Artigan fought to claim and keep a spot at the front of the crowd, as close as he could get without aggravating any Stryfe. Though he knew it foolish, he hungered for answers, or, at the very least, closure to his questions: first, is it alive? and second, is it alright with that crack in it?
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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Evarista on April 16th, 2017, 7:54 am

The graveyard-shift soldiers weren't the only ones witnessing the beauty of the sunrise. Evarista was viewing the same sight from the rooftop of the Nitrozian estate, where she commonly spent her lazy nights. Having challenged herself to remain sober yesterday, she still didn't feel like going to bed due to the lack of sedatives in her system. Instead, she seized the opportunity to enjoy the sunrise from her vantage point. Trying to enhance the experience with her spyglass proved futile, however. Even when viewed through powerful optics, the horizon didn't seem to get any closer. She figured she'd need a much bigger spyglass.

Evarista's sungazing session was interrupted by the commotion on the City Center plaza, of which she also had a perfect view. The large amount of soldiers made her think there was a public execution on the way, but then she noticed what they were guarding. It took her slow wit a decent pause to process the sight of a gigantic egg occupying the middle of the plaza, boxed in by a square of soldiers as if it were some kind of VIP. Holding the spyglass to her eye, she traced the strange object's surface closely. It did seem like just a normal egg, inflated to horse-sized proportions. The denizen inside, however, was probably not a horse, and definitely not a chicken.

Using one hand to close off the distracting surroundings from her view, Evarista peered through the scope intently, attempting to get an auristic reading. While she wasn't expecting much, knowing what a short-range tool auristic sight was, the colorful corona was clearly visible through the lens, as if the egg was right in front of her. The undulating motions of the aura, flowing in a smooth spiral around the egg and changing color rhythmically, suggested that the inhabitant was alive; unless it was some sort of creature that emitted a living aura even while dead. The girl's unsteady hands made the spyglass shake too much to concentrate on the details, so nothing more could be said. She had to get closer.

Folding the spyglass with a practiced motion, Evarista pulled a thick string of silk out of her mouth, and let the end of it drift down towards the nearby building, while making sure that there was nobody in the canal below. Once the string was securely stuck, morphed her hands into hooks, secured these over the string, and slid across the canal smoothly. She was so familiar with the procedure that she could do it in her sleep, which made things easier, seeing as she was eager to get to the heart of the action. In the corner of her vision, she saw the soldiers forcibly pull equally eager poor sods down from their vantage points for being too conspicuous. Evarista reminded herself not to fall for the rookie temptation of sticking out her head to get a visual on the plaza, instead creeping from roof to roof with the noise of the commotion as the main point of orientation.

The only better place with a better view of the going-ons than the estate roof was the Bell Tower, which was mercifully close by. She knew that the entrance at the base of the tower was generally locked, but the windows above the ground floor weren't, so getting inside from a nearby rooftop was a relatively easy matter. Using her claws to get a better grip on the window frame, she slid a talon under the window to pull it open. Of course, getting inside without hitting her head on the frame was out of the question. Nursing the small bruise on her skull in annoyance, the girl closed the window politely behind her, finding herself in the stairwell.

The easy part was over, now came the hard part: actually getting to the top. Grunting effortfully with every other step, the lanky aristocrat shuffled up the stairs, quickly losing count of the floor she was on. By the time the early-morning cardio was completed, Evarista was completely out of breath, and her forehead was glistening with sweat. But it felt worth it when she pushed open the door to the bell platform, greeted by the sight of the central plaza as if it were on the palm of her hand. The egg was still there, thankfully. It would be unpleasant to go through all this effort for nothing.

"Coming in without knocking again, are you?"

The tower keeper's amused voice made her turn her head. Unsurprisingly, he was curious about the unfolding events as well, and made full use of his home's unique height advantage. This wasn't the first time Evarista had snuck inside like this, and he usually caught her. Given that her intentions with coming here were generally harmless, he seemed to be more glad for the company than anything else.

Now that she could get a proper look at the egg, her first reaction was a rumble in her belly. Her most recent meal was dinner, which was over twelve bells ago, so being hungry was understandable, but the intellectual curiosity about the contents of the egg was rapidly suppressed by fantasies of a Million Miza Omelette. Salivating profusely, Evarista waited for the officials to make up their mind about what to do with their find. As evidenced by the crack running across it, the egg was either damaged or about to hatch. If it was the latter... the silent observer wondered if the Ebonstryfe actually knew what they were doing. This seemed to be one of those rare time where they didn't quite have the situation under control.
Last edited by Evarista on April 16th, 2017, 9:06 am, edited 1 time in total.
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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Hwyn on April 16th, 2017, 8:49 am

Hwyn
Damn it.
She was always causing trouble wasn’t she, she could at least do him the favor of leaving a note when she snuck out, he was one of the only people who kept tabs on Eva, for her sake just as much his own. Pulling her still open window closed Hwyn frowned at Evarista’s room, her bed was a mess and needed to be made, but there was a surprising lack of empty wine bottles present. Sighing Hwyn shrugged he’d have to track her down somehow. Opening his eyes, or… well he wasn’t sure how to put it but using the vision he’d been given he looked around the room, the tangled mess that was Eva’s ribbon ran about the room, leaving it’s black and crimson cobwebs all about the place, though it was no surprise considering she lived here, his own green and lavender trail meandered in a somewhat more organized fashion about the place as well, though after a minute of searching his eyes fixated upon the freshest trail of Eva, going…. Right out the window, damn.

Opening her window again Hwyn peered out searching for his mistress, was she on the roof? Letting his eyes adjust to the early morning sun it took him a moment to find the traces of Eva, though luckily the roof of the estate was rather free of traces of other people. Looking up but not daring to climb out Hwyn looked for signs of Eva. Of which none were found. Frowning that he’d lost his lead, Hwyn grumbled before pulling himself halfway out of the ledge before freezing. Something had moved near him, and he wasn’t risking falling if he could avoid it. Letting his ribbon laced vision fade Hwyn looked around again with his normal eyes, and found it. A long line of Silk, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Fixing his eyes on it, Hwyn let the sight flow out of him again, and smiled wanly. There it was, Eva’s silk, she’d rappelled away from the building. Reaching out he pulled on the thick silken substance. He shivered when he touched it, the thought that Eva made this stuff. He knew she was a morpher but still things she did managed to surprise him. Puliing on it hard Hwyn frowned, would it support him? Tugging once more Hwyn justified that he was smaller than Eva, and if she could do it… he probably could.

Wrapping two arms around the Rope, Hwyn reached up and managed to get a leg over the rope as well, hanging below it before pushing off with his other leg. For a moment he fell, as the silk flexed taking hos full weight, it felt like his heart was going to stop when for a moment he thought the silk wouldn’t hold. Thankfully it did. Slowly then he began the process of wriggling down the silken rope. A breeze of crisp morning air blowing up his skirt and shaking the improvised rope again caused breath to catch in his throat but he soldiered on getting to the next, and lower roof.
Grumbling Hwyn looked about from his new vantage point, peering out from his current roof. People all seemed to be shuffling towards the center of town. Hwyn wondered what it could be that had everyone’s hackles up, but against his better judgement, he decided that he had a good chance of finding Eva if he went with the flow rather than ever climbing again.

Going around the back of the building where less people were Hwyn clambered down from the roof using a window seal and almost an outside table before poorly placing his foot and landing hard on his now sore rump. Walking out of the alley rubbing his offended component before making his way among the crowd.

When he finally arrived to see what it was everyone was making their way to see Hwyn gasped, what in all the gods names was he seeing, even after gazing at it for a minute he wasn’t sure what it was, it seemed to be, a giant egg, but it couldn’t be could it? I mean, was a giant chicken about to be unleashed upon the city? Shaking his head Hwyn cast his eyes about for Eva but wasn’t sure where he’d find her in a crowd like this where his eyes would do him no good. Shrugging Hwyn put what he knew about Eva to work. She hated crowds and had a knack for climbing, exemplified by this morning. So she was probably up high, but if he could avoid any climbing today he’d be a happy camper. Hwyn satisfied himself for the moment with observing, he was curious what was going on with this egg, and He was sure that if he stuck around long enough he would be able to find his master.
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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Lilith Krauss on April 16th, 2017, 5:30 pm

Some days were just not meant for work, and this was one of them. ”How dare they? To cancel out on me?” it was more of a shout than anything, ringing through the whole garden of the establishment. Lilith was keeping herself seated in the far most corner, the mere edge of the roof, so she didn’t see who came barging in, but she had no need to, everyone knew the voice. ”well, well, the queen got rejected over an egg?” the woman laughed to herself, entertained by the idea that someone who was planned for Triwil would rather choose staring at an egg than her company, even if it was no certain that the egg-celent attraction would last up to be present for more than a bell or two. Knowing how expensive and rare her services were, Lilith found it even more amusing. ”You find it funny?” Triwil was talking to someone else, but Lilith answered under her breath ”hilarious” if only for her own entertainment.

All of her jokes aside, Lilith was actually no better than the people who had refused their planned visits today, if she had the chance, she would barge out of the building to get closer to the egg herself, but work was work. Luckily for the curious woman, Black Waters was the building highest in the given block, from the edge of the garden she could oversee the Temple well enough to ease most of her interest, but not all. To think, a horse sized egg would be the concern of the day, maybe even the whole season. She saw how ravosalas were lining up, people seemed to be pushing back and forth between each other to get closer to the well guarded egg in it’s spiked nest, and it was still this early, so many people weren't even awoke at this time on most days...let alone canceling plans that they signed up for days ago. To be fair, she assumed that people would come back once the egg cracked, and it was unlikely that anyone else would cancel...unless the egg was more than she assumed.

A few chimes passed, her eyes still glued to the egg...when the mistress herself came up to let the workers know that if they so wished to rub together with the rest, like cattle looking at some bizarre egg, they were free to do so, if they would come back to work on a different day that they were supposed to have free. Lilith took the offer by the neck, leaving a note with her name and what day she would come to compensate for her absence; and just like that she rushed out. She really was no better than the rest.

No ravosalas were around, so she was forced to find her way around the block by the good old use of bridges and paths - not the most convenient method of transportation in this city. She tried standing on her tiptoes once she got closer, even ‘accidentally’ stepping on a few people’s feet to elevate her view a slight bit, but no hope ”I had a better view from the garden” she thought once the harsh realization came - she was not important enough to get closer without intensely rubbing against everyone in the crowd. Crowds were not really her favourite place to be to begin with, she made a priority to cover her skin, gloves and long sleeves, boots and usually high necklines...but none of that would help right now, if she went in deeper into the crowd, her mark would drive her mad and she'd still not find anything.
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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Nomi on April 17th, 2017, 4:39 am

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'Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, happy, and wise' was a phrase that Nomi seemed to swear by, considering the hour at which she pried herself out of bed every morning.

Perhaps it was a holdover from her days in Mura. If Nomi wanted any measure of solitude in her large household, she'd have to awaken before everyone else to get it. There was something else about the early morning light, too - a softness, a somberness, an almost... secretive air, as if when dawn's light graced the landscape, it brought with it a sense of newness and discovery. Those who got up the earliest were the first to hear the previous night's news, and by the rationality of the newfound day, such peculiar events and happenstances could be processed and appropriately filed away. Opportunity lay in the first six hours of the day, and opportunity had Nomi going for an walk every morning just after the sixth bell, seeing what there was to see and hearing what there was to hear before everyone could emerge from their homes and fill with world with a backdrop of noise.

On this particular morning, she encountered someone very, very interesting, who had a very, very interesting story to tell. He'd been a bit too much of a hurry to share it at first, given that he was trying to haul as many eggs as possible to the city center before it was 'too late', but when Nomi grabbed onto the back of the man's hand-wagon and helped him along, he was a bit more inclined to chatter.

"Haven't you heard about the egg?"

Nomi had not, in fact, heard about the egg, but she very much wanted to, and so, she helped the man with his scheme for the cost of the story and a place to sit and watch everything unfold.

The merchant's name was Ezra Whitley, and Ezra had built, from practically nothing, a successful food establishment that kept his entire family happy and well-fed. This had been possible due to his profound sense for business and his ability to... think outside the box, and this was what had him dragging as many eggs as he could find along with a curious Konti to the site of The Discovery. The Discovery being, as Nomi heard it from him, a bizarre, enormous egg that no one could identify or explain. Ezra intended to make good on the craze and excitement following the incident - and it was a craze, a veritable maelstrom of people had come to witness history being made - by selling overpriced, hard-boiled eggs to the easily swayed populace.

'Mystery eggs!' He was calling them, as he shouted to the crowd from his platform of bound-together ravosalas. 'Come get your mystery eggs and cure what ails you!'

Nomi helped pass them out, collect money, and lent an exotic air to the entire process, being - after all - nonhuman. While her service wasn't paying particularly well, she did have a better view than most from her perch on the shop-boat. Being as small as she was, she'd hate to be out there among the pushing, shoving, demanding crowd... But here? She could observe in (relative) peace, and also be amused by how entirely ludicrous this entire situation was.

An egg. A giant egg, in the middle of town. For once, she had little idea of what to make of the proceedings, but she was certainly going to stick around for as long as possible and find out.
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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Prophet on April 22nd, 2017, 3:13 am

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Scrabbled or Sunny Side Up?
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12th Bell


Throughout the morning, there was not much going on in the City Center. Ravok was literally buzzing with gossip, rumors and speculation of what was inside the egg but the most popular theory was that it belonged to the creature at the bottom of the lake. This was not singular in and of itself, mind you, for the legend of the lake monster was as varied as the colors of the ravosalas. There was the ‘it’s our guardian angel’ tribe who swore on Rhysol’s breath and their mother’s pearls that the behemoth in the deep, deep center of Lake Ravok was majestic and benevolent so, too, is true of its offspring. Another popular fantasy agrees with the first part but thinks that Rhysol’s influence will have corrupted it. These seemed to split that side of the coin while the majority clung to a different myth; one where the creature beneath the glassy surface was a beast of terrible power –the stuff of nightmares and the general reason why many children fear to swim in the lake away from the city.

Without any warning or signs of change, the top of the egg blew off!

The crack that was merely a foot from the top seemed to be the breaking point. The impact was not just a crack or a whoosh. When the shell lost its lid, a shockwave radiated outward from the egg at a slightly downward angle with such a high rate of speed that it knocked many of the Ebonstryfe soldiers down and then washed over the crowd. There was a sound that accompanied the phenomenon which was almost more like pressure than actual noise; a deep hum that dropped in tone until it disappeared beyond the scale of human hearing. Those closest would have a ringing which would linger for almost thirty chimes and the effect would lessen the further away from the event that one stood.

The doors of the Temple of the Black Sun and Vitrax seemed to open simultaneously and men in black; agents and soldiers alike, flooded the square. For servants of the chaotic god of evil, the teeming mass of boots and capes were eager, gentle and organized. They helped people up, calmed nervous and scared hearts while also setting up stations to distribute medical assistance and fresh water. The whole ordeal was over in another half a bell and the crowd was even more curious to see what was inside the egg. The guard around it had been restored but now a platform was being quickly erected so that high ranking officials could further investigate what had truly happened.

Syna was past the bell tower now and the sky had grown hazy as if there was some kind of unnatural heat that was beginning to settle upon the city. Ravok had always boasted of perfect weather but it was as if the mirage waves of Eyktol were descending upon the city. The rapid change in temperature spawned the faithful to pray and the doubters to speak out. The protests were largely ignored but high in the windows of the Temple were agents and acolytes taking down the faces and names of the instigators.

A triumphant shout rose from around the egg when the platform was completed. It was large enough to hold a final, inner circle of Ebonstryfe paladins and several Druvin; namely Aemeli and Maathais. There was a set of stairs leading up to the platform and a small set leading to the egg’s aperture that was high enough for one to lean over the shell and see inside. Cries from the crowd for answers rose above the muddled protests and grew into something much larger than just curious, frustrated or scared shouting. A chant seemed to evolve as the people demanded satisfaction. The priestess moved forward and raised her well-formed arms as a call for quiet; for peace. It took a few chimes but the thousand or so people packed into the square eventually went still. All mouths were shut and ears were open for the explanation that every soul ached to learn.

Powerful was the woman, yet her voice was like honey poured over cream and served in the finest tea. It not only soothed tense minds but eased quaking fears and silenced whispered doubts; a salve for the spirit. “Good citizens of Ravok. Our lord and protector, Rhysol, has blessed us with this gift and it is-“ She paused as a murmur rose up from a concentrated group. She did not look to them but anyone who knew the city was aware that the windows of the buildings which stood on all sides of the gathered mob had eyes. When all was quiet once more, she continued. “It is his divine wish that the chosen people of this beautiful city take part in the blessing we have been given. Men and women of my lord’s holy order –the Black Sun- will be taking those chosen by the Great Rhysol and leading them to the platform so that answers may be shared amongst us all.” She moved back and several dozen black-cloaked and caped figures began moving through the crowd and selecting individuals for a chance to look inside the egg. Each of the chosen would receive a gentle cut on the top of his or her hand which would tear in a way to resemble a black sun. The wound would sting and bleed black blood but no larger than a third of the surface.

Soon, a line formed as those not chosen stood quietly by and made room for the fortunate to ascend the platform and reveal the egg’s secrets. The color was an off white tinged with a soft green and deep blue though the color was more at that bottom of the shell and left to the interpretation of the beholder. The stairs creaked, the platform swayed gently and the heat in the square rose to the point where a few heavily armed soldiers collapsed in their armor. The smell of fish and hot bodies became thick but not so dense as the aura that emanated from the two Druvin who towered on either side of the egg. When one would climb the last steps, Aemeli would be watching intently on the left with her flowing curls and white eyes while the immovable statue of Maathais would simply stare through the slit in his helmet though its shadows revealed nothing. No matter the side one chose to look, a sense of fearful attraction would bubble deep inside.

The shell was several inches thick and smooth on the broken edge. It was cool to the touch and inviting in its aura. It seemed to beckon the chosen to its core as it stilled all voices and thoughts. Those who approached would find their cares and worries forgotten; their very minds would empty in preparation for what came next.

Inside the egg just a few inches below the crack was a black gel-like substance. It had no smell. It was perfectly smooth upon first glance and left no feelings of malice or joy – it left no feelings at all. Some were to be blessed with a secret. When the pull of curiosity and the egg’s silent beckon became too much, the marked individual would lean forward and a mouth would appear in the gel and whisper to its attentive subject. The gel would bend so the subject could lower his or her ear down next to the mouth but no more of a face other than a chin would be revealed. The voice would sound like a loved one or a horrible scream or a deep bark or a combination for a thousand voices. No two people would hear the same secret and no two people would hear the same voice. The lingering effects of this interaction would leave the individual to believe the secret to be absolute truth. The person’s ear that was closest to the mouth would turn gold or silver so that everyone would know that he or she had been blessed. This ear would hear more clearly and at greater distances until the season passes at which time the mark on the hand and the coloring of the ear would fade away as well.

Others would hear nothing. They would be given a vision. The egg would beckon them in closer and closer until the mouth appeared. Clutching onto the shell, these people would bend down and become engaged in the most passionate kiss one could experience outside of true love. The lips coated in black gel would be slick with lust, warm with desire and firm with an enduring embrace that would send the individual into a euphoric state. While still held by the mouth of black gel, a vision would be set upon their minds. This will become an all-consuming thought and the person will not be able to forget it nor would he or she ever think it was just a dream –this is reality either past, present or future. The lingering effects of this interaction will be a woozy feeling for the rest of the day –like a good drunk. This person’s mouth will turn either black or white and elaborate patterns like tattoos will spread along laugh lines, the chin and the jaw. This will mark these individuals as those who have tasted the egg’s gift. When these people speak from now until the end of the season, their voices will be their own but more powerful, more persuasive and more alluring. When the watchtower flares yellow, this too shall pass.

For all of those who are chosen, the experience will be individual but the effects will be the same as those listed above as well as a desire to return to the egg though admittance will not be allowed. The longer the time apart, the stronger the desire will grow and the more the desire grows the blacker the subject’s eyes become. By the last week of Spring, any who have tasted or heard the wisdoms from the egg will have solid black eyes. Once this occurs, each blessed individual will be able to see the hearts of other mortals and animals beating inside their chests. This will not temper any desire to see the egg but it will not come with any pull or suggestion of its own. It’s simply an ability; a divine gift for the chosen.


PlayersTo learn your secret, you will need to roll in chat with myself or another ST present. /roll 1d2 1 being Secret. 2 being Vision. /roll 1d12 the number will decide what you learn. If I need to make more I will. I will adjust the number as people take part but you do not have to participate if you do not wish it. If you have not posted yet but would like to join, please state your intentions in the OOC thread. The first person will come AFTER Nomi since she finished the original posting order. Take all questions to the OOC thread NOT PMs in case there are overlapping inquiries. That is all.


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How Do You Like Your Eggs?

Postby Artigan Crowley on April 24th, 2017, 1:45 am

Given the situation, it really shouldn’t have been so surprising when the egg hatched––or exploded, as the case may be. The top of the shell quite literally blew off, and the entire world shuddered with it; a blast of force swept outward and toppled those who were standing too close. Artigan himself lost his balance and was caught up in a small cluster of bystanders that found themselves falling, although he was lucky enough to land on someone else and not the ground.

The Ebonstryfe and Black Sun began buzzing the instant they regained their feet, entering the crowd to help and calm as many as they could. It didn’t take long before the initial shock wore off and gave way to more curiosity, even more intense than had existed before. There was uneasiness, turmoil, but the leaders of the city kept it under control.

And then, finally, there was conclusion.

Two Druvin emerged from the scene, and the priestess of the two stood high to address the assembly at large. A blessing, she said, for this was indeed the will of Rhysol. There were secrets, yes, but also there would be chosen witnesses––individuals who were blessed with the chance to look at the egg from inside the circle of Stryfe!

Artigan didn’t think he could have been more amazed… until he was passed by, sliced on his hand and told that he had been chosen. He barely felt the cut––animation and alchemy were familiar magics, and both required similar––and his elation drowned out anything else. With slow, reverent steps, he was brought to stand in line to see the egg in person.

It was even larger up close than he imagined. The contents of the egg were not at all like he’d thought; there was no beast there at all, only… stuff. Black and slick and peaceful, it lured him in until he could think of nothing else. None of the guardians stopped him when he approached, nor when his curiosity overwhelmed him and made him lean in, just to try and catch a glimpse of what was in that dark depth.

And then without warning, he was in the throes of a kiss. It took him by surprised and consumed him, inside and out, pouring fire through his veins and light through his eyes. The kiss made the world twist and warp around him, until the Ravok around him was something altogether different… something altogether wrong.

Perfection shattered, there were storms of heat and cold sweeping through the city. The protective influence of their God was gone, and the weather of the world was ravaging the city. And Rhysol… Rhysol was no longer there. His absence was vast and empty and, and dead. The elder Druvin fell to old age, while the younger Druvin found their marks gone and their white eyes replaced with their original ones. The guardian beasts, the Dravlaks, they were gone and their keepers were markless. Everything that held Ravok together was gone.

And then the kiss ended, Artigan fell back with a gasp for air, and the world fell back to place. The Stryfe remained strong and comforting, the weather kept at bay… all was as it should be.

He wouldn’t notice the marks on his mouth until he either went home or had them pointed out to him, but he felt the effects. His movements were sluggish, but not unpleasantly so, like after the first two shots of whiskey but before the actual drunkenness. The unpleasantness… that was just in his mind.
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