#Zandali Dominion

[zandali-dominion]

Safe

(Written by Rakaj!)

“Please, please, I just wanna go home…”

Rakaj felt his heart break as he heard those words. The others around him were arguing about something, but he couldn’t hear them. They weren’t important. What was important was this poor, tortured soul in front of him. Ko’tiji, a young troll and a scapegoat in an assassination plot, accused of killing a much-beloved High Priest of his own loa and sentenced to exile. Marched into the harsh deserts of Vol’dun with no supplies, but it didn’t end there. Of course it didn’t.

He wasn’t simply turned loose, as most exiles were. He wasn’t even given the chance to run to the temple of Akunda, his loa. Go’jakar, the seemingly corrupt Prelate who was, at the very least, in on the plot, had personally marched him away from the temple, out to some abandoned ruins where no one would think to look. He killed his own men before beating the young troll to within an inch of his life, the boy crying, begging, pleading for it to stop.

When Rakaj, along with the other members of the Zandali Dominion, had come across the scene of a small, distant fight, he had been torn. If this was who they were looking for, they absolutely should get involved, but if it wasn’t, this would simply waste valuable time that Ko’tiji didn’t have.

He was so glad they got involved.

When the fighting had stopped, Rakaj immediately went to comfort Ko’tiji. The boy had been thrown to the floor, and awoke just as the shaman reached him. Immediately he began to scurry back, fear clear in his eyes as he begged for his life.

“Please don’t kill me,” he cried, as tears welled up in his eyes, “I didn’t do it! Ask Auntie Aizuna! I would have never… I loved him…”

Ko’tiji broke down then, and Rakaj moved to comfort him. The boy threw his arms around him, sobbing with a mix of pain and relief as he began to realize that he was saved. Rakaj lifted the young troll into his arms, intent on carrying him all the way across the desert if that’s what it took to get him home.

And so he did.

The sun was steadily dropping behind the mountains by the time they reached Akunda’s temple in Vol’dun, and for Rakaj it was a welcome sight. Ko’tiji had fallen asleep shortly after they departed the ruins, curled up in the shaman’s arms, and Rakaj was perfectly fine with letting him sleep. The group came to a stop outside the entrance of the temple, to rest and get some food and water, but Rakaj just kept walking.

The barrier of lightning which kept outsiders from simply walking into the temple offered no such trouble to Rakaj. He was a priest of Akunda, and the boy in his arms a devote follower. The lightning danced across their bodies as they passed through it, but no harm came to either of them.

Static began to gather in the central room of the temple as Rakaj entered, energy building until, in a flash of lightning, Akunda appeared in the center of the room. Rakaj bowed his head respectfully to his loa, but for once did not kneel, with Ko’tiji still in his arms. The boy stirred, glancing around drowsily as consciousness returned to him. His eyes went wide as they fell upon Akunda, words failing him as he found himself in the physical presence of his loa for the first time. Joyful tears began to stream down his cheeks as he realized that he was, finally, safe.

Akunda let out a low rumble, and those present could almost swear they saw the great thunder lizard smile.

“Hello, my child. It is good to see you safe.”

Rakaj chuckled softly as Ko’tiji failed to speak. He gave a quick nod to one of the other priests in the room, who nodded in return and ran to fetch a blanket, laying it out on the stone in front of Akunda. Rakaj gently set the young troll down atop the blanket and waved a hand to either side, gesturing to the fountains at the corners of the room.

Glowing waters rose from the fountains, flowing elegantly through the air and streaming gently towards Ko’tiji. The waters swirled around him, smaller rivulets flowing from the larger stream to start gently healing the boy’s wounds, as he stared in awe at Akunda. There was a peaceful silence in the temple, broken only by the sound of running water, distant prayers, and a gentle hum of lingering electricity in the air.

--

A bit later, the sun had finally fully set. The Dominion was settling within the inn, or had gone off… somewhere. Probably back to Dazar’Alor. Rakaj fiddled with an uncarved chunk of wood, that the one called Xen’aji had hastily shoved into his hand as he joined their group. One of the other members had later explained how it worked, and now it held a faint, brilliantly blue glow.

Pocketing the trinket with a hum, Rakaj looked across the temple, to a small alcove hidden away in the corner. A small cot had been set up, and a trio of trolls were chattering away atop it. Ko’tiji was in the middle, finally smiling again as the two women beside him kept him distracted.

Rakaj had sent word to Aizuna in Dazar’Alor shortly after he finished healing Ko’tiji, and she had, of course, brought his mother along. They were welcomed into the temple and, after a joyful reunion, informed Ko’tiji that he would be coming home with them the following day. There were tears, not just from the trio but from… well, pretty much everyone in the temple who was there to witness it.

With a smile, Rakaj got up and made his way for his own bed within the temple, exhausted but excited for the road ahead.

[druidess-kiefie]

No party like a troll party

[discipleofhethiss]

Inspecting the Island

"Stronghanded and brazen, the path ahead will be tedious as well as full of tribulation. Still we do not falter in the face of the challenge."

[death-shaman]

Ashes to Ashes

Dusk had settled on the island. The ritual had commenced and Taz glanced at his hand scrawled with blood. Fon’Watha was the only place he found peace, outside of that incessant Luna’lai that was ever present. Still...he enjoyed the lost woods of their island. The Island of the Great Apocalypse. A name that was wrought with disaster but currently teeming with life. He didn’t trust it.

The Darkspear was settled into the large open hut enjoying the crisp breeze from the ocean as the sun began it’s descent on the horizon. He twirled the vial of ash from the ceremony in his right hand as he thought then his glance returned to the dried blood on his hand. “Power.” He recognized it the sigil. Surely Zin’Vik knew he would recognize it. Perhaps that was his reasoning. The snake priest wanted the death shaman to think on it. What was written on his forehead? He had no idea and he didn’t care to look at the sigil. But the idea of “power” being one of the main things Zin’Vik attributed to him was curious.

An exhale breathed from within his mask as he stood up, still grasping the ashes. Now he thought of the question the Antu’jin posed the Dominion. “Where would you place this? Place it somewhere with meaning, somewhere you believe is important.” As he thought on this Taz uncorked the vial and poured the ashes into the hand with the blood sigil. Taz squeezed his hand into a fist and spoke a quiet voodoo chant, “Jang siame mojo. Loa atuad ju.” A bright purple flame erupted within his palm as his armor rattled. As often when he spoke his voodoo, the feathers and bones shook in response. They were soaked in mojo so that Taz could more accurately speak his voodoo without needing to dance as others may need to.

The purple flames ignited within his clenched fist as it singed the blood sigil into his palm. After a few moments, the flames had died and the Darkspear opened his fist to look at his hand. Now, the sigil was burned into his palm. A temporary reminder, better than blood and more powerful with the voodoo he had imbued within the blood. The snake priest’s blood was now bound to his palm. Not for any sinister purposes, but for protection. He had bound himself to Zin’Vik’s life. 

Trust given and trust taken.

[zandali-dominion]

Finding the Found

(Written by ZhyZak!)

Coming here after the events that took place last evening took a certain amount of both bravery and determination. Though none truly understood, or at least had taken the time to understand, the strength of a certain Raptari’s conviction. She had been sent to this isle for a reason she hadn’t truly come to understand till a few days after she arrived. It hadn’t even been a full week since she came to the isle but already so much had happened, so much had changed. Her eyes had been opened and her sights set on the promise of a future she had been unknowingly seeking. Step by step, she approached the Pillar of the Loa of the Found which resided within the Temple of five Pillars. A place she honestly hadn’t spent much time within till last night and it became apparent to her that it even existed. Her clawed toes clacked quietly against the stone as she approached within her ravasaur form carrying with her the body of a recently killed Saurid within her toothy maw. Keen eyes peered around the location, remembering well the giant being she witnessed here last evening and what it had done to the spirit that tried to possess Rakaj. But seeing it was early morning and far less eerie out that it had been the night before she felt rather confident the danger was gone… for now. She slowly set the carcass of the saurid down before the pillar as she looked up at it with her keen piercing eyes. Slowly she shed her favored form gifted to her once she became a follower of Gonk and his pack of Raptari years past. She brushed her hand along her giant white hawk and softly sighed as she’d slowly kneel one knee, then the other as she assumed a position of prayer before the pillar, head canting back as her eyes closed and she held her hands out on either side of her. “Hear me oh Loa of the found. Hear me and what I have to offer you.” She said in a loud, strong trance-like voice. “This island of Zul’rokh is troubled. It has been lost and found again and your people have come to return it to its former glory. A home, worthy of your presence once more.” She said remaining steadfast as she felt a breeze start to pick up carrying the strong scent of the salty sea nearby. “To you Krag’wa, Loa, Guardian strong, to you I offer my services to protect the small, the meek and those who need it most.To the creatures of this isle as we bring them here to be or those that already exist they will have my protection and my service to see that they flourish. For those who are meek and need help most, I have already put others here that were in need before myself. Look to me and my deeds and know this is true as it shall continue to be. I return home on the morrow to seek a way to find answers to help those in need here, to find supplies and hope for what I intend to bring here and for a cure to save another. This will be my home, of this I have no doubt. And thus I will protect it with all that I am if you would only offer to me your strength to make this isle a home worth saving. A great feast will also be offered in your name once we have the means to provide such with the fruits of our labors.” She went silent, shifting her head a bit as she breathed in deeply and spoke once more. “To you Halazzi Loa of the lynx, to you I offer this bit of food I’ve taken of the isle itself. It is small but this is all it has to offer right now. So I ask you for the wisdom and speed to bring to this isle what is needed to make it fitting for a home of your kind and mine to roam once more. Protect us, and I will see to it your people come here to give their thanks in offerings of prey worthy of your fangs.” Again she fell silent, shifting her focus and her senses as she rolled her head back further. “To you Akunda, Loa of storms and new beginnings. To you, I offer you the promise of -our- new beginning here. This isle is full of regret and sorrow in the spirits that haunt it. We seek the power of your storm to cleanse it. The strength to cleanse our minds of our fears and those that try to ward us away. This isle will be our home, a home worthy of your followers and our people. Not just the Zandalari but all troll kind who wish to live here together. Think of those who we could bring to ya in this promise of a new start. Of myself, I offer the promise of my own good works for what I intend to bring to this isle and the people of the Dominion.” And finally, a smile came to her face as she seemed to light up some and strength filled her lungs and being as she spoke with a fondness in her spirit. “Gonk, oh mighty Gonk. My Loa the great hunter and master of shapes. I have followed your desire to come here and to find a new people. To make myself worthy of a pack anew and to start one of my own. I have finally come to understand why you sent me here and have found the answers I seek. Quick of mind and sharp of claw you were right to send me on my way. But in this home I have found we seek your aid even here. You know that I intend to reinhabit this isle with the creatures small and large, predator and prey. You know that I have arranged to bring supplies so I may start to build the pens to protect those we bring till this isle is safe to set them free. Guide me as you always have oh Loa and see that I bring life to this isle once more in your honor. Do this, and I will promise to you that once my pack is ready to run here within our home you will have our first great hunt and we will share in its spoils.” A long deep breath in and out as she felt the breeze still blowing along her pale scaled skin. She’d slowly open her eyes as she looked once more to the pillar and to those Loa who she had honored this day. Time would tell if they heard her, time would tell if she’d prove worthy. But she stood confident and full of that conviction to see it all through as she turned and looked to the isle beyond the temple. This, would be her home. And here, she would find and start her new pack. As thoughts of a certain few within the Dominion filled her mind who would be at her side to see this through a determined smile filled her feral features as she’d turn to make her leave and get ready to set sail back home to begin.

[zandali-dominion]

A Feast Fit For a King

As their campaign in Zandalar inches closer with every passing day, the Zandali Dominion relaxes by creating a shared meal. Gumbo, Tamales, and plenty of veggies, the group created a feast fit for Rezan. With full bellies, they look forward to their future in the Zandalari’s land.

[druidess-kiefie]

This is Kie at the last few @zandali-dominion events. “Oh no, more water. Help save me.”

[zandali-dominion]

Echoes of Emperors

The Zandali Dominion first met at the coastal outpost, called over by their communicator trinkets, and they’d discuss their mission before heading off into the jungles of Zuldazar in search of a rumored artifact hidden between the veil of greenery. 

Making their way down the trodden path, they’d all see to a camp set within the jungle prior to their mission, rummaging through their supplies in preparation to cross the river. However, they’d find something skulking about their supplies - In their search they would uncover an adolescent ravasaur eating their rations... One amongst them putting an end to the supposed creature without knowledge of what may come of such an action. Afterwards, they’d make their way across the river and ventured deeper into the jungle where darkness began to shadow the moonlight above the canopy. 

Now, they’d all stop once spotting abnormal structures within the darkness which melded with the very environment itself. A perfect adaptation of nature brought into fold with a sedentary life.

However, as they neared, and Antu’jin Xen’aji made himself heard, they’d receive a spear flung at them from afar which landed right at the feet of the Overseer himself. Eventually however, they’d spot a man standing between the trees going by the name of Talkal, the leader of a band of Gonk followers who invoked the wrath of nature upon those who harmed it needlessly.  And as fate had it, one amongst them did so... To the adolescent raptor earlier who had gotten lost, the Claws of Gonk themselves sought to retrieve and return it safely to their protection. However, an ultimatum was set forward to the Dominion as their own people began to surround them.  “Bring me the one who has done wrong, and we will set the cycle in place again.” Said Talkal to Xen’aji, right before Ver’di would take initiative and move to take his place.

Talkal didn’t hold any mercy for the Gurubashi Stalker, raising him by his shoulder, and the primal dug his talon-like claws into the neck of Ver’di before the primal made his words heard by all.  “You may look for the artifact, but know it means nothing. It is a simple trinket from the Empire of Old.” Then Talkal went to retrieve his spear, and made his way off to retrieve the body of the lost amongst their pack.

They’d all arrive to the location they sought out, finding a peculiar scene - A mural behind an altar of wood and bone, the depictions showed an array of colors, a people which began with one dream, and in the end they’d fade into slumber.  All of them would see upon the center of the altar a golden ravasaur skull, decorated with both jade and obsidian respectively. As they neared, they’d see a list of a hundred names, Talkal appearing to be the eight to last on the last. 

However, a small discussion set out whether or not they should even take the artifact, and they’d begin to realize it was not necessarily theirs to take. In turn, an offering of repentance was asked of them all by the Antu’jin of the Dominion. Most gave their blood to return what was taken, some gave trinkets, and others gave coin, but in the end there were three who stood at the altar deciding whether or not they’d still take it and risk the vengeance of whatever they may have wronged.

[zandali-dominion]

Sacrifice of Shades

Time would come to pass within the coveted ruins of a once great passage. No light of any sun or moon could pierce confidently through the bastion of vines, foliage, and eerily hard to breathe air. A call heralded them, the sounds of their trinkets and the knowledge of this place is only known to few, even within the Dominion. And so, when those who had arrived made their way here... The Snake Priest wearing clothing made out what appeared to be purely flesh, hide, and the pelts of creatures which no longer hold shape... Then forever marked by the dust of charcoal. The only object near him which stood out was the ornate bronze knife in his hands, one set of fingers holding the handle with the other carefully pressed against the blade. Beyond him, the room was cleared of most things beyond the golden fountain still deep within the halls. Shimmering brightly with the flames of torches set upon the walls. "I welcome you all here." The Snake Priest spoke up, then he'd look to those who have come. "Priestess Pan'yo, Voice of Rezan." He'd state, lifting his chin, pointing at her with the very same gesture. Then he'd look to San'jo, looking him over. "Fon'ai San'jo, Fabled Musician of Shadra. The one who plucks the strings of her web." He'd voice before finally and inevitably turning to look at Koje. "Fon'ai Koje, Zealot of the Wilds. One day I wish to hear the beat that your heart will drum." He would voice loudly, then turning back to look at them all. "You three. I know you all. But do you know yourselves?" A rhetoric question came, then he'd look back to the waters. "We have all done what is necessary to bring forth at very least the glance of our Loa. But how far must you go to get their full attention?" He'd inquire. "Two Loa who have passed - And two Loa who have been unseen. With these passings, I ask you if you believe in the strength you can offer and in return... The strength you can acquire?" He'd ask, and finally without another word he'd begin to move towards the waters.

[zandali-dominion]

Studying the Shrooms

(Written by the wonderful Al’kazar!)

Tap tap tap. One two three, one two three. Tap tap tap. Al’kazar continued to tap his temple to the same short rhythim which his index finger, his short claw starting to wear a little welt into his skin that he hadn’t yet noticed. He pushed his long locs away from his face once again, stretching his back as he stood up straight for a few moments. All around him were various tools, vials, sections of bioluminescent mushroom, his mask and gloves cast aside so he could get a better feel for his work. He had set up a small tent and work station in the ancient and crumbling ruins of the ogre ‘race track’. He would have preferred to work in Fon’Watha, but the mushrooms seemed to lose luster the longer they had been taken from the source. And the track, along with the surrounding coastline, had the densest population of these strange mushrooms.

He pulled his mortar and pestle closer to himself, a hand-sized spider making itself known once its cover was taken. Al’kazar smiled kindly to the little arachnid, before returning to work. He dropped some shroom cuttings into the mortar and began to grind it into a wet paste, noting how turning into a pulp hadn’t diminished the glow. He paused and made a few notes in his journal, which already was several pages in on his notes. He flipped through them, skimming what he had written already.

“The mushrooms glow with an eerie light, shifting between blues, to greens, to yellows depending on how one looks at them, and the time of day. While large and firm enough to be sat on, they have enough give to feel like a cushion. The texture is supple, though larger mushrooms begin to grow ridges and lumps, likely due to age.

Spores often float from the mushrooms, which are irritating to both the eyes and nose, and explain how they seem to propagate. Though they seem to prefer the moisture filled, more humid and marshy-like environment of the shore, as the size and number of the luminescent mushrooms decreases as they reach further inland.

The mushrooms keep their glow for a limited time after being cut, but will slowly begin to lose their luster after an hour has passed until they go completely dim. The glow remains just as bright when mashed into a paste, making me wonder if the possibility to turn it into a paint is not so farfet--”

Al’kazar jerked his gaze from his journal as he caught sight of his little spider friend perched precariously on his mortar. “Oi! Sha’dii! No!” He swiftly put his journal down and scooped up the spiderling, setting it a little further away. “Bah...I cannot lose you too, little one. I do not know still if this is safe to eat!” he scolded, but the spider simply ignored him, feeling no remorse for sampling the weird mush the hexxer had made. Al’kazar sighed and rubbed his face tiredly, looking back to the mushroom mash.

Dipped a finger into it, he rubbed the substance between his index and thumb, making notes with his free hand about its viscosity. “Sticky, but not like gum. Smooth too. Very strange.” He swiped his finger across his table, to test if it still kept its glow, and for how long. “Perhaps, if I add a preserving agent, I can make a glowing paint?” He grimaced, knowing he had to do a skin test as well. He took another dollop of mushroom paste and rubbed it under his left forearm, studying how his skin reacted, if it reacted. It tingled for a few moments, and the glow remained.

While he waited to see how long it would take for the glow to leave, Al’kazar busied himself with the study of how different herbs and alchemical agents reacted to the mushrooms. Overall, other plant life had little to no effect on the glowing shrooms. Other fungi were swiftly taken over, at a rate that honestly shocked the hexxer. So far it had neutral reactions to whatever flesh he exposed it to, be it raw meat, rotted carcases, or just his own skin. Though, he did note that it did like the carcases as food, but that was to be expected. It was a fucking mushroom.

Al’kazar tapped his pencil on his journal, crossing out the swear word due to it being rather uncouth for a ‘professional paper’. He had tried to feed the mushrooms to caged animals he had brought to the island, but none would eat it willingly, and he didn’t have the heart to force them to consume it. Likely, the pungent spores caused the animals to avoid eating it, he assumed. He was tempted to try eating it himself, but he really didn’t want to risk a self poisoning.

The witch doctor had to pause for a moment, when something glimmered in his peripheral. “Sha’dii?” He drew closer to his spiderling, tilting his head. Her abdomen has a faint glow to it from under her carapace, but that wasn’t what pulled his attention. He watched as the spiderling spun a web, the silk glimmering with a soft glow that looked rather lovely, if a little intimidating for the unprepared. “Oh, now that, that is interesting...Thank you, little Sha’dii.” He quickly guided her to continue building her web elsewhere, so he could study the current one more closely, and take samples. “Very interesting…” Once again, he was jotting things down in the journal.

Hours passed like this. Experimenting on the mushrooms, acids and alcohols. Testing the strength of the glowing spider silk, seeing how long it continued to glow. The mushroom mash seemed to retain it’s glow far longer than the cut pieces, making it a reasonable way mark things temporarily at the very least. His skin never did react to the mash either, though it was difficult to remove without rough scrubbing. He discovered that spider venom made it really last a long damn time, and proceeded to see if other venoms did the same. “Hmph, that may amuse our esteemed venomancer,” he mused softly.

Unfortunately, alcohols just made it liquidy without helping the glow to stick around longer. Perhaps a good way to wash it off, then? “Wish I’d known that before I rubbed my arm raw…” Al’kazar rubbed his face a bit, sighing. He was growing tired, and it was getting late in the day. Perhaps sleep was in order? Ohh, but he felt like he was on the cusp of something good...Maybe not big, but at least good. Some good news, something at least moderately useful...He wasn’t sure if it was that feeling of discovery spurring him on, or just his pride, at this point. He wanted so badly to just prove himself. “No, bad...This isn’t about you, mon,” he scolded himself.

Alk took a good long stretch, looking around himself. Sha’dii had gone a little nuts with the web spinning, until she had run out of the glowing silk. Now she almost seemed to pout, which tickled Al’kazar a little. The poor little spiderling seemed very amused by her glowing webs, at least. And he noted how she had more success now with catching bugs, due to the glow. “At least someone benefits, eh?” he murmured, returning to his notes. He had so far discovered that venom allowed the glowing mushroom mash to not only be spread more easily, but retain its glow almost indefinitely from what he could estimate. Acids were a no go, and the preserving substances he had bought from undead traders a long time ago were not good to use on living flesh, though they did also retain the glow relatively well. “Loa, now I know why blight glows...Eugh,” he mumbled, waving a hand in front of his nose as if to shoo away the odor.

Finally, he decided to revisit the herbs he had. He took them to his mortar and pestle, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mashed them together. Flower petals mostly. While he still had difficulty finding something non-toxic to preserve it with, he did want to know if he could change the color of the glow. And, admittedly, the answer came to him much more quickly, making him feel rather silly for not trying it sooner. “Hmph.” In fact, any pigment he added did change the color, making his desire to make a paint from the mushrooms even greater, since now he knew he could make several different shades and hues.

But with that ‘distraction’ out of the way, he was left with that puzzling predicament. He wanted to make a paint, which he had effectively done! But it had to be used carefully, for fear of being poisoned by it. He wanted something he could use bare handed, something he could paint on himself and others. Just the idea of it, the Dominion marked with glowing paints while on a hunt or just for a ceremony...It sent a chill up his spine! It made him grin like a maddened cat with maddened glee! But if only he could. Figure. Out. HOW. TO MAKE IT NOT TOXIC--

“Deep breaths, mon, you got this,” he muttered to himself, slowly putting down his journal instead of flinging it like he had almost done. Al’kazar went back to his scrolls and books, his stocks of potions and bottled hexxes. There had to be...be something. He looked over his powders, narrowing his eyes for moment…”Wait...I’m a loa damned fool!” Sha’dii watched with vague confusion as the hexxer frantically cleared off his workbench to set up a place to dry the mushroom bits and pastes. Luckily he still had a little blow torch he’d drunkenly bought off of a goblin earlier in the year, else this would take so, so much longer…

Click….Click, click...Clickclickclickcli--FWOOM!! Al’kazar nearly dropped the blowtorch once it sparked to life, and Sha’dii scuttled away to hide from the flames. He quickly set to work drying the mushrooms, making sure not to turn them into a pathetic charcoal in his eagerness. It took much longer for the paste to dry out, but he didn’t care. He may have found the solution! Finally! A stroke of genius that even the greatest inventors would envy! Well, maybe not that far, but at least he wasn’t sulking anymore.

The mushrooms grew brittle once dried, and he was careful to not spill them as he ground them up into a fine powder. The powder glittered, but no longer glowed, and was overall dull unless light struck it just right. But that didn’t worry him. He had a plan this time. He mixed the powder in with his paints now, and left them to soak in what sunlight was left in the day. He was patient now--He had to be, or else this wouldn’t work.

When the sun finally set completely, he used a little water to wet the paints, as they had dried a little from being left out in the open. And as he mixed them, he saw it. Faint at first, but the darker it got around him, the brighter it got. “By the loa, aaahahaahhaHA!” He cackled loudly as he danced around with his finished product, haphazardly slapping the glowing colors all over his arms and face. “I’ve done it!” He stomped a foot down, stretching a shadow to engulf the fires near him that lit the area, snuffing them out so he truly could be in the dark. There it was! He had done it! He had made glowing paints! Al’kazar was so gleeful he ran over to the nearest giant mushroom and gave the thing a giant hug. He backed away, chuckling at himself for his own silliness, sauntering back over to his work station, utterly covered in glowing paint and glowing spores. But he’d done it! There was a use. The toxic paints he’d made with the venom could be used to mark buildings, even as a colorful weapon. But the dried powder could be mixed into any safe face paint, turning it into a paint that glowed once the sun went down. And by the loa, he couldn’t be more proud of himself, even if it was slightly silly and niche in use. At least the mushrooms could be used.

Al’kazar yawned, and his stomach gave a great grumble, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in a long time. Absentmindedly, the hexxer grabbed a random, vaguely squishy object to gnaw on off his workbench, obviously believing it to be the dried meats he’d taken out hours ago but then forgot about. It wasn’t until he was a few chews in that he was very, very mistaken. “Bleugh!!” He spat out the mushroom on instinct, as he was still unsure if they were edible. Not like it tasted horrible, but it was weird to say the least. Alk heard a soft chittering, and glanced over to Sha’dii, who seemed to be laughing at him. “Oh shut up, you,” he grumbled. He walked over to his tent, and caught sight of himself in his dirty looking glass. Loa, he had really covered himself in glowing crap, mismatched colors all over his being. He stuck his tongue out at himself to express his distaste, only to receive a shock. The mushroom he’d mistakenly munched on had make his tongue glow now too.

“Loa help me, I’m an idiot.”

[zandali-dominion]

Memory of the Found P.2

“Shera Ali’kh - Cut the Hands - End the Cycle.” 

Fek’zarn, Nar’zuul, Rhoku, Taz’ju, and Zin’Vik set off in the early morning, their night plagued by a light casted out by the lighthouse which was within a short walking distance from the Outpost on the hill. (Plus a guest newcomer RPer who wanted to see how to troleplay! (please don’t kill me)) Finding themselves seeking to move upon what they have learned the day before, they’d begin to make their way towards the Temple of the Five Pillars, found on the southern end of the island. 

Once they arrived, they’d immediately begin to investigate the pillars, looking for names and anything that could hold reason as to why the Atal’ai tell them to “have faith” in the pillars. They’d search, and results would be found time and time again - They had no patience or time to waste now. The Pillars followed: Pillar of the Lost, Pillar of the Found, Pillar of the Loved, Pillar of the Remembered, and Pillar of the Dead.

As they'd all linger and discuss, they'd find themselves being witness to something strange - New to them, the fact all of them were here, attempting to dissect the meanings behind the pillars... Between all four pillars, within their window-like arches, they would see a glimmer of the sun of dawn striking what seems to be thin, finely woven threads of silk. Was it a trick of the mind, or was it something else? They'd see it for a few moments if they truly paid attention to it, but after that, it would no longer be seen. The sigils and symbolic markings of the Loa of Shapes, the Lynx of the North, Frog of the Marsh, and the Thunderlizard of New Beginnings were all seen from left to right. It would be a glaring visual. Light and shadow, casted against the pillars, always meeting in the middle of the temple. Within it, beneath the stains of the markings left behind from their recent ritual, was a deeply encarved mural, that only seemed to be seen at a certain time of day, under certain conditions. It was a heart being held within a thin three-fingered hand, around it were eyes surrounding the prior organ with empty pupils. All around them, they'd almost sense the air being lifted out of their lungs, and they'd be stricken with the inability to speak. It felt as if they were being siphoned of all life, and shadows would seep in from the horizon as the sun began to draw far below the edge of the land. Violent flashes, like thunder striking in quick succession, of a sight around them - The temple rebuilt, made again in a new image, but then it would be shattered. Broken into pieces. After, nature would retake it, and they'd see it, a flash of light across the land, then it would meet them. Suddenly, it would cease, and they'd see only white. Finding themselves within the depths of Tal'akaai, the screams of every possibly voice that is capable of being heard, all beings were: here. From Ogres to Trolls. All people... And the light would retract, filling in with shadow. In front of their darkened vision was a pair of glowing yellow eyes, but behind it was a legion of dark shadowy pairs staring at them. A large grin came forward, breaking the darkness, and they'd see one thing - A glowing star, a world, and two moons around the previous world. The world was coveted by a shadowy hand, but then the vision would end. Ahead of them was the darkness of night, and the eery silence of time.

However, it was not quite done - The darkness around them would begin to be filled in by a deeper seat of shadow. From this, echelons of ethereal hands would creep out towards them, but they'd go past them, heading into the center of the Temple, where the circle of it all was. A plume of shadow began to grow, and grow... It would be seen becoming taller until it would tower above them all. It almost billowed and breathed in its own right, then it would say one sentence. "Good to see you again..." It would say in a distorted way that would barely be recognizable as a voice. Those who stood here were stunned, shocked, and all matter of confused. Some amongst them recovered faster than others, but all felt and saw the same vision. 

Nar’zuul pops a squat and takes a moment to recover and come back from being scared beyond his wits. "T-talk about being discouraged from ever wanting to venture out alone on this Island..." He’d murmur. Taz’Ju had finished the drawing just in time to see hands creeping past him. He watched without moving as they coalesced into whatever the fuck that is. Taz folded the parchment and placed it back into his bag as he slowly stood up. "Don't recognize ya face, sorry." Clearly Taz was uncomfortable. Rhoku growls as the shadows start to gather. He drops down into his cat form, teeth bared and claws extended, though he's given a bit of pause when the shadow being speaks. Still, he stands clearly ready to pounce, waiting silently for whatever happens next. Nar’zuul took a step back from watching creepy hands go slithering across the ground only to pool together and form a huge talking plumb that he feared if angered would try to eat them. "... Again?" he pondered. He knew this community was fresh and new so this couldn't be the second time this -thing- had dealings with this group. Unless he referred to the Trolls? "You think he means us as in Trolls?... Didn't one of you mention that possible Trolls lived here before?" He’d ask. Taz’Ju flicked his ears a few time, not sure how to respond. He'd glance at the others curiously to see what they might think of what the entity said. He flicked his ears a few time, not sure how to respond. He'd glance at the others curiously to see what they might think of what the entity said. Zinvik stood there and almost didn't believe this was real. He didn't trust any of this, nor did he believe the vision was truly over. Were they all here beside him...? Rhoku seems to relax -very- slightly, lifting his head and perking his ears forward slightly. "...Are you talking about the... uh... light-shadow guys and the fog spirit... things?" He’d ask towards the shadow being which spoke. 

The shadow being looked to Rhoku, and it almost felt as if its eyeless face was glaring right at him. Burning a hole into his very spirit. Still, it would give an apparent nod. "The Atal'ai are fanatics driven by a self-driven sacrifice, and the Shera Ali'kh are a Cult who defined an era by turning away the Loa of Death, and the Father of Sleep. They were once two societies who lived in their own enclaves, but in time, divisions came - And this land was subjected to being struck in half. Only when you allowed the presence, or weakened the bonds the Shera Ali'kh held, you allowed those seeking to end it to return." It would say. "No, we want to end both the Atal'ai and the Shera Ali'kh. The two should not exist without the other, and neither should exist at all." It would say openly. Cordae would not be capable of appearing near Taz. The shadow being would extend out its left hand. Grabbing the crystal, and it would be physical. "Peculiar..." It would say lowly, then bring it within itself. "And what of you three?" It would say, pointing at Xen'aji, Nar'zuul, and Zin'Vik. "Tell me - did the Atal'ai speak to you as well?" It would ask.

Taz’Ju shifted uncomfortably as Cordae never appeared on his shoulder. "What do you make of this then?" Taz procured the darkened crystal from his pouch and offered it towards the being. "The Atal'ai gave it to me golden, but it turned when given to me." He held it out towards them.

The being then looked back to Taz'Ju, keeping the crystal for a few more moments. "They expect you to submit to them in order to get rid of the Shera Ali'kh, so they can do as they please. That is how the cycle begins again, neither of them care for any living, but they care for their devotion and hand. It is the faith in the Loa, and the ones around you which matters. This crystal will prove detrimental, but it is possible you can use it against them." It would say, then extending a ethereal hand towards Taz which held the crystal. And as far as Xen'aji could tell, it was not from here, but rather something that is visiting. An evil spirit, maybe, but definitely a powerful one. After this, it would look to the others, and give a canted nod of its head. "I am known as Zuljaraal, Keeper for the Pillar of the Lost." It would say, then wait almost politely.

Xen'aji would hold his tongue, staring daggers into the being, though he would bow his head slightly at the title. "So you are the guardian of this title. We seek your help." The Venomblade would state.

Zuljaraal looked down at them, but then it would tilt its head a bit. "Curious... Come forward, Lost One." He would say, pointing down at Nar'zuul. Beckoning him forward with a finger. "What is your name?" It would ask, standing up straight, and holding the top of the staff in both hands.

The Hexxer swallowed hard before speaking softly to the strange being. "I am Nar'zuul..." he stated bluntly while clasping his hands together and fidgeting a bit in the presence of Zuljaraal.

It would crouch down, looking to Nar'zuul, and it would extend out a hand for him to shake. "I can help you. Do you seek the same as they do?" It would ask, an almost grin-like expression grew on its shadowy face. "Nar'zuul, a pleasure to meet you. Lost or forgotten, you are as you are. Strong and mighty in the face of defeat, but yet you stand proudly. What say you now, Nar'zuul? Willing to offer yours to an old hand?" It would inquire curiously.

Nar’zuul had something of a similar dealings with a mighty being once but this one seemed to different. Off in a way. His words were filled with praise and trust yet his instincts were telling him that something was wrong but if the others were wanting this creatures help, then who was to deny the others the request. "I am not entirely sure of your intentions my friend... You give praise quick but I can not judge you solely on how you wish to asses me. My friend Taz wishes for your aid and since my Overseer values his words, then I too must ask the same of you... if it not be to much trouble." He says as he extends a hand out to meet Zuljaraal's own.

As their hands met there would be a sudden realization - It was warm, like the hand of another, and it would feel like actual flesh and bone he was grabbing onto. "Ah, do not worry, in the end, we all seek the same thing." The being would say, then as their hands would part, Nar'zuul would see a small marking on the palm of his hand. It appeared to be a bleeding heart within a skeletal hand, eyes surrounding it all. "The Lost watch over you, Little One. You know - If you never tell them, they may never know." The being said, laughter echoing around them, and then it would dissolve into the ground around them, crossing between their feet. In time, the darkness would begin to grow lighter. However, it was still dark. No longer did a hand reach out, and no longer did the shadows stare back. It was simply a dark night. The stars above, and the two moons seen clearly in the sky.

[zandali-dominion]

Memory of the Found P.1

“You follow in the path that others have carved with their restless feet as they struggled to reach the end. So, I ask you, which direction will you take?”

The time has come for the Zandali Dominion to make their first steps to ending the mystery which they’ve only just begun to uncover. Beneath the veil, they’ve found the names Atal’ai, the Devotes Ones, and the Shera Ali’kh, Death’s Hand.  Rahshekk has been of some assistance to them, and the Dominion let it be known they’d be taking everyone they could. Al’kazar, Anjima, Hir’ackee, Kie’fon, Rhoku, Taz’Ju, Zin’Vik, and Xen’aji would set off to speak to Rahshekk - This time, it was as simple as asking nicely to come outside.

Rahshekk held a soft spot for druids, especially those who are considered outsiders to the standards of troll society. It helped that two amongst them were within that category. She would soon follow them, advising them to go to Tal’akaai, the Enclave of the Childless Ones, which was found deep within the caverns of the island.

They would arrive, the large room was quiet at first beyond the hum of the hovering crystals.  As they stayed within the room, they may notice a few things, and most of them would feel that buzz begin to almost emulate in their ears. Above them - A strange collection of dim glowflies were seen, all collected on the individual dots on the ceiling. The glowbugs were all here, for whatever reason, they were collecting within Tal'akaai. However, Zin'Vik and Fek'zarn wouldn't see or hear a thing. They were essentially rather unaware. Rahshekk would then look up, pointing up towards them. "There they are..." She'd voice lowly, then begin to move towards the center platform. One of the crystals were still glowing brightly, and it was the one pointing towards the entrance, which Fek’zarn, Taz’Ju, and Zin’Vik stood closest to it.

Hir’ackee would give up his necklace which assisted him in connection to the dream, and it would the catalyst for calling forward the very beings they wished to speak to.  Their conversation was sufficient, but only more questions rose, the being made of light and shadow only raised more questions. 

[zandali-dominion]

Nar’zuul’s Long Haul

(Written by Nar’zuul!)

Nar’zuul set off early in the morning for the forested parts of the Island so as to get an early start on gathering the Lumber needed to rebuild the defensive walls around the Zandali Dominions Outpost. With what shaping tools he could gather from the storage hut close to the Blacksmith’s post, Nar’zuul believed he had all he needed to complete the task he accepted from Overseer Zin’Vik in a matter of two weeks.

However things did not go all as planned. After finding a suitable tree that he could chop down and hopefully shape into wall spikes, Nar’zuul failed to see that the tree’s on the island we’re fairly thick at the truck and so he spent a good portion of just one day chopping halfway through a single tree.

“This isn’t going to work… I’ll be at this all month by myself!” He growled in frustration as he continued hacking away at the tree. Just as he could hear the mighty tree beginning to creak from its support being chopped away, the Sun was already nearing the horizon and Nar’zuul wasn’t willing to work any further if it carried over into darkness. “C’mon already! Just fall!”

With one last good swing, the tree finally began to buckle at where Nar’zuul had been chipping away. Sadly it didn’t fall in the direction he had predicted and he quickly had to run away as the tree began to fall towards him. Luckily he got out of the way in time but now the Tree landed in an awkward spot that would force him to have to cut the tree into sections if he was going to have any chance of getting the lumber back home by midnight tonight.

“A simple task I thought… this would be easy I thought...” He argued with himself while using a two-man saw to try and cut the tree in pieces. Of course this wasn’t going all too well either, in fact it was going much slower than he thought it would. Admitting defeat for the first night, Nar’zuul called it quits for the night and was beginning to pack up his shaping tools when suddenly he noticed that the tool bag he brought was suddenly missing.

“Wah- I could have sworn…” He started but then as he stepped closer to where he remembered sitting the tool bag, he saw little footprints leading off into some thick underbrush. “Ah you’ve got to be joking.” Annoyed that he now had to hunt down the tool bag not just for the tools but for his trinket communicator that he left inside the bag.

Taking up his lumber axe, Nar’zuul braved the night for now and crept deeper into the surrounding forest to try and find the thief who made off with his Tool bag. For awhile he wandered about with the creatures tracks leading him on but eventually they vanished and now he found himself lost in the middle of the creepy woods. By mere struck of luck he picked up on some rustling sounds close to what appear to be a pond so he moved to investigate. From the safety of the bushes, he found the culprit that took his tool bag. Is was none other than the little Saurid pests he was warned about.

“Lil’ thief... “ Again he spoke to himself while slowly inching closer towards his target. His hopes was to try and scare the beast off so he could retrieve his bag but the Saurid seemed to have found something it liked in Nar’zuuls bag which happened to be the Trinket Communicator which it happily began gnawing on it and occasionally smacking against the slab of rock it stood upon. “No!” Nar’zuul cried out as he suddenly leaped from the bushes. The Saurid quickly reacted but instead of fleeing, it held the Trinket in an open claw while holding its ground and growling menacingly at the intruder. “Hey, hey! Hey!... thats mine!” Pointing at the trinket and speaking as if the Saurid could understand him. “That is not a chew toy for you! So drop it!” The Saurid still keeping a safe distance, tilted its head in confusion at Nar’zuuls gestures and words. “Drop. It. Now.” Again he demanded and the Saurid just looked at him with those soul piercing eyes before letting out a horrible high pitched screech and then suddenly turning tail and running off with his Trinket in hand.

“No, no, no, no, noooo!” Nar’zuul cried as he gave chace. Following closely behind the the Saurid, Nar’zuul attempted many times to try and trip the Saurid with his axe but failed every time and every time, he swore he heard the Saurid chuckle. “Stupid lil’ runt! C’mere!” In his frustration, he dropped his axe and leaped at the Saurid in a final attempt to either grab hold of the beast or possible land atop it thus trapping it beneath his weight. Of course this idea was hopelessly flawed for the Saurid saw his pursuers action and quickly put on the breaks thus leaving Nar’zuul to belly flop into a patch of fresh mud ahead of where the Saurid was running.

The Saurid looked at the clumsy Troll who just lied still in the mud groaning into the mud from either pain or disappointment for failing in capturing his target. Feeling no remorse for the stupid Troll, the Saurid went on to use Nar’zuuls body as a bridge and gracefully trots across the mud only to stomp hard on the back of Nar’zuuls head to further disgrace the Troll by shoving his face more into the mud. After words, it gave a cute squawk and then ran off into the Forest with its prize.

Nar’zuul later returned to the Outpost with his tools in hand but he had been out for so long, the rising of the sun was already marking the start of a new day. Feeling tired from last night's hunt and embarrassed from being tricked by a simple Saurid, Nar’zuul simple dropped off his gear back at the Storage hut and went to sleep over on the hai bails by the Forge. “... Zin’Vik gonna scold me for sure …”

[zandali-dominion]

Sorting the Saurids

(Story Written by Rhoku-WrA!)

Rhoku sat atop one of the lingering orcish spires dotted around Zul’rokh, perched precariously in the form of a medium-sized pterrordax. His keen eyes glared down at the ground below him as he waited, not daring to move a muscle. Where his gaze rested was a small pile of miscellaneous shiny things; coins and jewels primarily, but a few seemingly mundane items, including some unopened rations, a spare pair of breeches, a hat, and his own communication trinket.

After over an hour of silent vigil, his prey finally appeared. A small saurid, lured by the shimmer of treasure, trotted out of the underbrush and scampered to the pile of treasure. The little creature rummaged through the pile, eventually picking up one of the ration packs in its grubby little claws and beginning to make its way back.

Seeing his moment, Rhoku suddenly swooped down from his perch, speeding towards the saurid and snatching it up in his talons. A powerful beat of his wings saw him climbing swiftly into the air, wriggling saurid still clutching its treasure. The druid leveled his flight out, gliding calmly towards a mostly empty plot of land near the outpost. The only thing ruining such a flat space was a small, sturdy cage, made from fallen branches and held together with strong vines.

Rhoku swooped down, fanning his wings out to slow his descent and landing a bit awkwardly. The saurid was still clutched in his talons, and he stepped down on it gently to hold it in place while he shifted back into his troll form.

“See? Was that so bad?” The druid spoke to the saurid in Zandali, his words laced with magic that seemed to calm the critter down. He bent down to take hold of the little thief’s neck, gently sticking it into the cage and securing it closed. With the saurid contained, Rhoku hunkered down on his haunches, peering in at it as he continued speaking.

“Look, I like you little things, but you can’t be stealing our supplies. Why don’t you take me to your friends, eh? We can chat, I can help you guys settle in someplace, and the others won’t come hunt you down. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

The saurid chattered noisily in response, causing the troll’s ears to twitch. After the critter stopped… “speaking,” Rhoku grinned and nodded slowly.

“Yeah, sure, you can keep the gem. Just don’t tell anyone where it came from, alright?”

The saurid let out an agreeable chirp.

“Alright! I’m gonna open the cage now. Don’t forget our deal now, eh? Or I’ll just pick you back up and we’ll do this all over again.”

Rhoku opened up the cage door and stood up, taking a step back to allow the saurid to leave. It scurried out of the cage and began to trot off slowly, the druid following along behind. As he ran, he dropped forward as if he tripped, but his form changed again. By the time his hands hit the ground, they had transformed into the paw… claw, things of a sabertusk, the troll-turned-cat-lizard following his “prey” through the island.

Eventually, the saurid came to a small burrow and hastily scampered into it. The sabertusk scrambled to a halt, not expecting the sudden turn into the burrow. With a quiet growl of frustration, Rhoku began to dig at the burrow, pushing his way inside and eventually getting his head through. On the other side, he saw a sizeable cavern, with various supplies, trinkets, and coins piled haphazardly within. Spotting the saurid he captured, still carrying its gem, the druid let out a sharp trill to get their attention. The saurids all froze, turning to stare at an apparent predator trying to burrow into their home.

“Now, I know how this looks,” began Rhoku, “but I just wanna talk.” His voice came out somewhat warped in his sabertusk form, much deeper and a bit raspy, with a noticeable growl to his words. He tried to wriggle back out of the burrow, but swiftly found that he was firmly wedged into the hole he’d dug. Giving his tail a frustrated lash on the other side of the mountain, the druid let out a huff and simply relaxed in place. A problem for later.

“Now, assuming I’ve got most of you here, we gotta talk about you living on this island. You can’t be stealing from our camps anymore. The others are gonna start hunting you if you do. I can help smuggle you back to Zandalar when the next ship comes by, but that’s all I can offer.”

His voice, again steeped in some subtle magic, worked to calm the startled saurids down, as well as get them to understand his words. They chirped among themselves for a moment before looking back to the trapped sabertusk. They chittered to him, the Druid grinning slightly. “Perfect.” He got back to work trying to wriggle out while a couple of the creatures trotted over to help push him out. After a couple minutes of exertion, Rhoku finally popped back out of the burrow, shaking dirt off his scales before he returned to his troll form. “Alright. The next boat to Zandalar comes in a week. I’ll pack you away the night before and you’ll be back home in a couple days. Until then, just keep to yourselves and stay out of sight.”

After a confirmation chirp from the saurids, the druid gave a curt nod and turned, shifting swiftly back into the form of a pterrordax and taking off towards the outpost. The next few days would be interesting. If the saurids kept out of sight, Rhoku would keep his word and get them back to Zandalar. If not… well, he couldn’t exactly keep the others from dealing with them themselves.

[zandali-dominion]

Resolute Stand

"After the dust settles, what will remain?"

Finding themselves within Fon’watha, they’d attempt to investigate the orbs which have suddenly been lit by the knowledge given to them by Rahshekk, and Tazjiin (Taz’Ju later) will take on the mantle of attempting the task. Still, once they did, they’d take one of the orbs which hung above them from its perch, and take it into the caverns below.

Still, once they did, they’d take one of the orbs which hung above them from its perch, dislodging it with a stick that Hir’ackee manifested from his drudic powers, and take it into the caverns below.

After a walk below, holding a cautious gaze all around them, they’d see the true depth of the horrors of Zul’rokh - However, it did not last long, and all that remained of the aftermath was a wounded Tazjiin, a frightened Hir’ackee, and a paranoid Zin’Vik. Their tale is only known to them.

[zandali-dominion]

Examining the Exalted

(Written by Zu’luma!)

The trinket, the symbol of her running, it held two different meanings to her, one that her own mind dictated, cruel and as judgemental as those who had pushed her in her childhood years. Jeered at her as she grew up and now she was the source of her own criticism, her torn armor and still the ichor clung to places as she waded into the water off the shore. There she took a few moments to clean what Rakaj’s car wash couldn’t, stepping out of the water she lifted her hand to look down again at the trinket. She wanted to be of more use, a greater part of what made a difference and right now she felt far from that, maybe, maybe getting a glowbug.. It would aid in figuring this all out. She knew that the Atal’ai were attracted to the light, in the pouch along her belt were two grenades, one light, one void, and she’d become accustomed to carrying them on her. As she sat on the shore, sewing her armor she thought about how to contain an Atal’ai, she’d watched in the chamber how they could be knocked down, their light dimmed, and it made her wonder. Could she attract, then siphon the light from the insect, to make it dormant for a little while. Long enough to transport.

She had to try, she cut the thread to the mending in her pants before putting them on, working on her top as adjusting the grenade would take some work. She was no explosives expert so that choice might be beyond her capabilities, she hadn’t looked at the grenades to see how the goblin had constructed them. As she affixed her leather jacket back on over the under layering shirt she raised a hand to the back of her half-mask, there in a fabric lining she pulled from it her rush’kah. The mask that she would wear when hunting, it was always on her, always with her, and now as she held it in her hand she wondered if one of the loa might be able to aid her.

Getting up from the sandy beach she walks along its shore till finding a path up, she was headed into the plateaued area over where the caverns to Tal’akaai lay below. Still in her mind flashes of the realm in which Zuljaraal dwelled, his own plane, his own domain, that might be exactly why he doesn’t want the other entities on the island. If these beings did not combat him, what then would become of the island? Her mind turned on this as she closed up the front of her jacket and pulled the light bound grenade. Holding it in her hand she couldn’t mistake the hum of magic within it, she turned it in her palm, looking at the pin, and cap. She sighed, “Dis is beyond me.” she tucked the grenade away and moved to pick up a stick, there in a soft patch she started to carve ritualistic runes, and once done she pulled off her glove and used the end of her axe’s hilt, with the sharp point and sliced into her arm diagonally. There in her flesh was the small lines of previous motions, repeated so many times, the blood flowed down her hand and finger dropping into the grooves of the runes she’d drawn. As she walked around making sure each symbol had its fill, she put a finger into a smaller pouch and wiped the ointment across the wound closing it. As she pulled the glove back on she knelt down and began to mutter, chanting the words of shadowhunters before her. “Hear me, hear me, da great loas of da shadows, I be an instrument, a vessel, I be seeking wisdom and aid.” from her simple words there seems to be no response.

Maybe she was too close to the chamber below or maybe above there was still to much interference from Zuljaraal or the others. She pulled the trinket and sighed before putting it into the middle of the runes and once it settled a great column of darklight shot up from it growing outwards till it filled the runed circle, “Who wakes me?” asked a slow deep tone, a mixture of echoed emptiness and wind. “Zu’luma, I am Siame-Quashi.” she states without reservation. “Do you seek my boon, shadowhunter?” to that Zu’luma nods, “Yes, I seek ta trap an enemy that absorbs da magic of ottas. It be a nasty little bugger.” she explained and the column of light calms into a smoke that swirls about till the cobra head of a beast with two dark purple eyes peer at her. “Then you have my blessing.” with those words the cobra sprang forward into Zu’luma’s mask and once the essence was inside it she turned the mask to herself and put it on. The power of the loa flowed through her and she opened her hands to the darkness that swirled about them.

The shadows moved about her, but with the mask on she saw what the loa saw, the pin pricks and glowing orbs of the magics in the land. She kept a keen gaze on one particular, away from the others. There the bright light shown flitting about till it landed and she came closer and closer to it. She was not conscious of where her feet were taking her only that they lead to her prey, to one from the outside she would be like the shadow of a tree or gust of wind. As she neared the glowing Atal’ai she held out a hand, a entropic magic coming from her towards the insect and immediately it reacted attempting to flee, but she drew stronger from its light till at last it fell from the air dimmed. Scooping it up she turned to a brightness that was coming towards her, more, a host more of the insects were coming towards her, “YOU!” cried one as she leapt away not wishing to be herded by the amassed swarm she ran and ran till at last she came to an open spot. There she hooked the jar with it’s dimmed glowbug to her belt before she held up both hands, “Da darkness gonna consume ya!” she said as the same entropic magic she’d used against the single insect now came out in a wave, a cloud before her like a rolling fog. The loa’s power now being displayed, the insects wanted to come forward, she could see their light coming close, but as they came near the magic dimmed their light. For a few moments the beating of their wings was loud before they flew away, lowering her arms and the cloud dissipated, and she felt the mask return to just being a mask. Pulling it up and off her face she sighed as she glanced down to the jar on her belt, one glowbug, dimly lit.