Deep, in the darkest part of the fallen night, Akon finally emerged alone amongst the trees. It wouldn't have been hard for one to find her there, she wasn't trying to hide. Yet the spot had been visited daily for months on end. A small fire burned in the middle of the scene, a black cauldron sitting there amongst the flames. There was a long heavy dragging sound being brought through the woods behind the usually stealthy Uordeq, the dead she carried all too fresh. She knelt then slitting the freshly slaughtered boar's throat, and lifting the body by its back legs to hang over the cauldron. The red crimson flooded heavily into the hot iron, hypnotic steam rising in its wake. Yet the cauldron was only the center of the gory scene.
The warlock stood surrounded by corpses of all kinds. From goblins, to human, to elf and angori. All of them were gathered there, in various stages of rot and decay. Some had putrid flesh, others were merely bones, yet they were all gathered there surrounding the Warlock in a precise pattern. Yet these corpses were not entirely new...indeed, they had all aged at least several months, their skin having become leathery or black from the sun and rain. They were the dead, the dead that fallen on the field that night so many moons ago. The dead of the army which rose unvictoriously in Scorches wake, where the warlock had been seen daily toiling and gathering their remains. Yet this ritual had been one not easily devised. Each corpse was placed neatly, lines in a pattern which formed a many edged star, all which crossed evenly to encompass the warlock herself precisely at the center, a circle made by the many lines at the apex of this ritual. And it was there that she stood, blood filled cauldron at her feet. She then picked up the several carefully picked herbs and plants which she had selected among the trees over the many months, placing them too in the warming concoction. Anyone within a breath's reach would feel their nostrils sting with a thick smoke of hypnotizing qualities. The billowing plumes of herbs and scents rose with mind numbing thickness, a drugging quality to the air around her. Akon's eyes fluttered, as she breathed in deeply, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs and mind. She shuttered as she then let her breath loose once more, allowing herself to succumb to the wiles of the strong herbs she had selected.
Using a large stick for a tong, the Warlock lifted the pot from it's resting place, allowing the metal to cool and the concoction of blood and drugging herbs to rest and settle. She threw yet more herbs into the flames, the smoke rising thicker as their fresh, wet green flesh met the flames, and filled the air with the powerful aromas.
Akon's usually sharp eyes hazed, as she continued her ritual. She walked forward, having selected a singular corpse to sit now in front of her, to share the center of the multi-pointed star. She stood then on one edge of the circle, each point of the star having a corpse at its tip, and the selected corpse was posed on the opposite edge of the circle. She looked with dazed eyes towards the dead body, her focus shifting in and out as the herbs worked their powers.
Finally then she let her palms reach slowly and ceremoniously not to the long blackblade at her hip, but instead to the highly decorated and pristine dagger which always remained sheathed in battle. Slowly she drew it hissing in a soft metallic whisper from her belt, holding it aloft and above her own chest. "Umbrae me contigitai. Shadows protect and embrace me...." She whispered, rising the dagger higher, her voice rising in cadence. "Grant me now the vision to see, the ears to hear, and the tongue to speak now to those which you have embraced in your hold. May their minds and souls be open unto my sight, that I may be granted wisdom as to their deaths and their fates...." The words rolled off her tongue, as if the words themselves were drunken and slurred with the thick smoke which rose still through her nostrils. Slowly she dragged the dagger along one of her palms. "May my mind be open to seeing, and my soul be open to understanding, the feelings and thoughts, the words of the dead. I offer now a taste of the living, that the dead may offer what their souls retain in return." She said, dragging the dagger, now bloodied, across her other palm. She then held it over the mouth of the dead corpse in the middle of the circle, squeezing both of her slit palms over the hilt of her dagger, which she held tip down over the dead. The blood from her palms then dripped down the tip of the dagger, falling directly into the soured corpse at her feet. "Bring me now to the knowledge once dead...that I may learn of the past, of him, of Scorch and how these dead came to be, and his intentions, or may these spirits which have fallen, may these dead then speak, of what our town now sees rising between its walls, and walking amongst the living....May the dead speak to me as to their wanderings, and may I know why they yet to not rest. May I know why our town breaths with dead. wandering aimlessly amongst us.....when only the living should walk these paths, bring me the secrets which have died with these souls, and may I feast upon their rotting memories, and present unliving thoughts..."
She paused then, lifting the blade to her face and sliding it's tip along her out stuck tongue, drawing a line of blood down its middle. Placing the dagger not in it's hilt, but tip down in her belt right at the middle of her waist, she then reached finally for the herbed and bloodied cauldron, lifting its warm concoction above her head. She opened her mouth and poured the entirety of the strong drugged liquid into her mouth, and down her body, covering her in the thick boiled crimson. The aroma of it was powerful, even from afar, as the warlock drenched herself in its hypnotic blend. She shuddered and sputtered forth, her tone rising powerful. "ENLIGHTEN ME! WHY DO THESE SPIRITS WALK AMONG US NOW, TO THE DEAD, MY SACRIFICE IS GIVEN, I DEMAND NOW YOU SPEAK!" At that, powerful purplish wisps of strong dark energies rose through the warlock, and shot along the lines of the star she had formed, filling the eye sockets of the dead with a dull purple glow for a flash, the smoke still rising in a thickening fog over the entire ritual, silence falling in echoes as her booming voice fell amongst the arbors. (Commune Dead).
Heavy, black mask drawn against the sickening smoke, Katri followed it's odor from her camp to find Akon in the center of a ring of corpses with a bubbling caldron emmiting the smoke. Quickly, the young Uordeq ducked behind a tree and pulled herself up into some of it's lower branches for a better look. Grey-ringed eyes narrowed as she watched the continued ritual and the older female's words slur as she spoke and sliced open her own palms. A twinge of pain in Katri's left wrist heightened her wonderings and kept her in her place to watch the results of this venture.
Somehow this did not sit well with Katri, even barring the smoke that fouled her camp site. As the ritual ended, and the dark energy drifted up, Katri understood exactly why. From Akon's slurred screams it was clear she was summoning spirits to speak with, but the result was far less than what the girl would have called satisfactory. Narrowed eyes widened momentarily as spirit-inhabited corpses circled their caller, seeming more angry that they had been woken than anything. Muttering to herself about the nature of simple reanimation versus the calling of souls and a preference for the zombies of the former, she could not tear her eyes from the scene
Cringing as the bodies fell and began to be consumed by the earth and the area was poisoned by ash and nettles, Katri wondered at the sanity of herself and her former mentor. Sparing a glance for the blood-bloomed fire lily, she jumped down from her branch, deciding right then that the woods around the farm were entirely too crowded for her to continue staying in. Remaining hidden from the rite, she seemed to pause as if there was concern for the warlock.
Akon's body tremored and shook with the whips of dark powers emitting from and around her as the spirits drew closer. I look of extascy mingled with grit teeth in agony would describe the look of her visage. Her eyes were burning a bright and powerful red as the corpses mingled with her own powers and blood. As the spirits faded the warlock slowly fell to one knee, then the other, falling to all fours as the vines rose, seeming utterly spent. She was the picture of gore, red sticking in her hair and garments in herbed syrupy thickness. She took deep, exhausted breathes, red eyes still hot like embers as she panted heavily over the bloomed flower. Her eyes starred unfocused upon the plant, speaking through the blood from her slit tongue, which filled the cracks between her teeth. "The gate is closed...." She whispered, barely able to keep herself on all fours, as her own blood dripped red from her lips. "But why...."
Katri's eyes narrowed again as she sighed. Akon was a complete mess and looked rather weak, and the young Uordeq debated only for a moment. Rolling her eyes and drawing down her mask she stepped out from her hiding place and strode over to her former mentor, stepping over the mess of nettles and thorns that had infested the corpses. The scent of the blood hit her nose as soon as she pulled the cloth away from her face and the girl faltered for a split second, seeming to reach for something in her bag before changing her mind.
She caught the whispered words 'but why' as she reached the woman. Katri scarcely stiffled a scoff, "It's likely because you either think you're stronger than you are, you're an idiot, or because your sacrifice did not make up for pissing them off by re-awakening them from their other worldly relm, Mistress Nivarian. You look rather rough, by the way, though I have a decent idea of why, and, I am somewhat drawn to offer you help- as you have helped me in the past."
Akon's ember eyes burn as they shift towards the girl, eyes drawing now into sharp focus. Her tone is rough and harsh, darkly flavored as she replies in kind. "Do you even know what you speak of girl?" She rises to her full height, looking with disgust at the child in her eyes. "Help?" She laughs darkly. "Help?" She mocks seeming deeply amused, before her tone grows deep. "I don't desire help from a girl that can not even handle her own mother's death.. A pathetic child that enslaves herself to her own kind." She gestures to the mark that Katri knew was on her. "A child that claims throne to the Uordeq clan, but beds and breeds human flesh. Who turns her blades against her allies, and returns faithful aid with a blade through the chest. Oh hoh, Katri, slave of the Rienholts, beeder of bastard flesh, and betrayer of the faithful. I do not seek your aid. You do not even know all that I protected you from, and now you yet even entertain the idea I would want help from the likes of you." She sneers, seeming amused. "Oh no, Katri. I am no fool, and it is not I that needs your favor. It is you which should have kept mine." She stares at her darly, nothing kind about the gaze.
"Slave? To the Reinholdts?" Katri chuckles, it is one Akon would have never heard before, darker and more chilling. She thrust out her left hand, which now bore only the scar from Akon's training, however a tiny curved point of black can be seen on her wrist, beneath her sleeve, "No no, Mistress Nivarian. I am no slave. Nor do I see a bastard child anywhere. I simply was offering to help you back to your cabin and stop the bleeding you caused yourself. I hold no false sights of what I am and what I've done or how strong I am or am not."
Dark eyes glinted with an odd, new light. "My blade turns where I will it and I will it where it will serve me best. I believe, my dear woman, that was a lesson I learned from you. Allies are only relative to the goal, just as any other deal. Do you think my 'betrayls' were solely because of you? I respect you and your teachings, but that's a tad to much flattery. Aside from that, if I were a true betrayer, do you not think I would have tried to kill you when I had the chance? May I also remind you of my belief in your demonic possesion. You cannot tell me the night of the Inquisition that no one would have helped me kill you, if I had thrown the first spell or made the first strike. I am not so much of a coward that I wouldn't try to strike an enemy down, even then. There is also a difference between offering you my favor and offering to partially repay a debt. I certainly haven't forgotten what happened when we all thought you dead. I offer you no excuses, merely observed facts."
The girl no longer flinched or cowed under the warlock's harsh, blazing gaze. Instead she merely blinked up at the woman, holding her look evenly, "You asked 'but why' regardless of who you whispered to. I did nothing more than give viable answers for why you ended up with out any answered questions and surrounded by rude and angry spirits. I am not the same person who left here nearly six mests ago. I am no longer a frightened child. I am no longer tormented by the thing in my mind, instead I control it. Do not presume you know all. Much has changed during my absence and since my return. Think what you wish and believe what you will, Mistress Nivarian, I shan't stop you. However, I would appreciate you not misconstruing my sense of honor for cowardice or toadying my way back into your so called favor. I was raised much better than that and I see it now more than ever."
Akon's eyes cooled a bit as she stared at the girl before her. She answers cooly. "I got my answer. Our answer. Jastrey's answer, Katri."
"And just because things are not seen, does not mean they don't exist. You -did- try to kill me when you had the chance, Katri, do you not recall your blade so easily slipping between my ribs that night of the attack of the 'warewolf?' Do you not recall how you trusted the words of a man you'd barely met over the loyalty of a woman that stood under the acid of the Oathbinders, swearing her loyalty to your bloodline, and instead of trusting in the bond that swore me never harm your kin, Rasiri included, you trusted his judgement, your judgement, that I had killed Rarisi, and for it, drove a blade through my own chest. What purpose did that serve?"
"And the night of the inquisition, you sided with him, with them, again, instead of the woman which has never brought you harm to your head once in your life. You chose to stand even for my own condemnation, and though you may not have chose to raise your blade that night, you chose to stand with those what would. Instead of seeking my own actions out yourself, instead of seeking out my own truth, the truth of words sworn to you since birth, you stood against me, yet again. You claim it was for your own judgement, that I was possesed, yet it was only judgement you relied on, not facts. You did not choose to see my actions which brought truth to my words."
"And the bastard which you bore, though I do not see him, doesn't mean you don't have him stashed away somewhere. What, did you kill it? Call me impressed if you did, at least you would have finally truly done something for your true benefit."
"And that marking, just removing it doesn't remove its bonds." She eyes the black tip. "Or is it even truly gone?"
Katri smiled calmly, and empty smile that did not touch her eyes, "It served my purpose of avenging my family. Any Cassitran blood spilled, as heir, is my responsibility. That was my reasoning. As for possession, I observed things in and out of combat that disturbed me and seemed to prove otherwise. Not that, anywhere in any oaths, does it say I must answer to someone bound by such an oath to my bloodlines, Mistress Nivarian. Consider carefully the fact that I am, because if you recall, my dear woman, it was me you re-bound yourself to as mentor and advisor in oath."
When the topic of the child came up the young Uordeq's face changed completely, turning cold and icy cruel, her smile seeming almost feral, "Oh no, I most certainly have Nikolai stashed away. Why on earth would I kill my own offspring? That simply wouldn't make any sense at all. Particularly when the father is so very... dear to me... No, no, oh dear that just wouldn't do."
Her face returned once more to the cool, cold mask and her voice carried the authority granted by blood as she rolled up her left sleeve to expose a jet black, inversed crescent moon on her arm, "I will also answer to you the question of the Reinholdt's hold on me. It no longer exists. The mark was removed by a Reinholdt son so many mests ago that you still held the title of sheriff. There is no slaver's hold or mark on me and never shall be again. The follies of a 16 year old Uordeq traveling alone shan't be repeated. The only mark I hold is this one. Now, hopefully that is completely clear, or must I direct you to Wreynn?"
Katri pulled a dagger with an ornately carved hilt from her belt- clearly the Cassitran crest. She turned it over in her hands a few times, playing with it and running her finger down the blade. She twirled it between her fingers as she waited for an answer. She showed no outward signs of stress or concern.
Solas approaches this scene from the woods. Tucked under his arm is a blue book with ornate silver markings. His eyes are unobstructed by the black blindfold. The fact that they're uncovered is offputting enough, nevermind the color, a cold and icey blue. "ENOUGH!" He shouts, still moving toward the two, his black coat fluttering at his ankles. "I've seen enough." He stares intently from one Uordeq to another. He shakes his head. "The immature squables of two Uordeq mean nothing in the grand scheme of the Oarsman." His words sound filled with rage and disappointment, frustration even.
"Women are better at hating than men. They focus it better. Let it go better." Solas says half to himself. "Hell, witches are just plain meaner than wizards..." His voice trails off.
"Reinholdt, Cassitran, Nivarian, None of it matters here, Princess." He scoffs audibly before putting up his hand and closing his eyes. "I know what you're thinking, To stay out of it. That its none of my business." He opens them, not daring to look either one of the angry and squabling females in the eyes. "But it is my buisiness."
"There are forces at work in Jastrey. You don't have to be a Seer to see that a storm is coming. Something terrible is rolling in and making it's home here." And though he dare not mention it, he knew on some deeper level the world was getting darker He looks up at the two angrily. "And you two are squabbling about... about... POLITICS!" His free fist clenches into a fist, while the other holds his book tightly.
He stopped talking only to breath for a moment. He felt galvinized by the sound of his own voice, or maybe from the desire to do what was right, The desire to see to it that someone stood between the darkness and the people it would devour.
"You." He looked to Akon, a certain fire in his eyes. "You muttered something about the Gates closing." He shook his head. "The gates are closing, but everytime you make a call to the hereafter, everytime you conjure something from the pit. The barrier slowly gets torn away. You're blurring the lines between here and there." He spits. "And people are going to die. But better them than you, right?" He forced as much venom as he could into those last little words. better them than you.
Akon's red eyes turned towards the Seer, her look still holding a bland disgust. She looks to Katri again. "The bond of a student and mentor is broken if either of them refuse the teaching..." She says lowly, moving back to the circle and staring at the flower, sharp eyes fading again into a haze, her energy sapped near entirely between the pissing match and the summoning ritual. "No, Seer, the gates are not closing...they are -closed-. And it damn well wasn't by my doing. Place blame...place blame...place blame..." She mutters, hissing to herself. "People so quickly forget I've already died for this town willingly...."
"If you come here to seek wisdom, then ask it, don't come to me with insults and blame. I am sick of it." She says quite frankly, kneeling to gather her items.
Solas stares down at the warlock. "For the good of the town, right?" He says cooly. "When I burst out laughing do you think you'll be offended? Evil done with good intentions is still as evil." The fire forms in his throat again. "You say you die for the good of the town, but here you stand. Living your life all the while dragging behind you the charred remains of the fallen." Solas looked away for a moment before turning back to the Uordeq swiftly.
"Your sacrifices to your dark lords and ladies, no matter how willing you claim them to be, are just as dark." Solas stops himself. There was something different in his eyes, sympathy coupled with compassion for the warlock. "I dont desire to make an enemy of you Nivarian. It has never been my intention to do so." The sympathy gave way to a stubborn anger. "But bullies make me mad, Akon. And I've been known to do something thoroughly stupid things when I'm angry."
Akon rises then, having looked for a long silent moment at the flower, gaze settled on it before she lifts herself from the ground. "Then let it fuel you to do something useful." The warlock said blandly, all sense of emotion seeming to have gone from her. "And have someone inspect the nature of that." She said, clearly refering to the one bright thing left in the grounds of the ritual. The warlock began her stalk away, seeming tired and worn, each step not bearing the usual full stride, but more a somber and dragging lull towards her quarters.
Solas stands for a moment in silence. As his clenched fists go limp he lets out a short chuckle. "And I have enough trouble figuring out normal women." Solas sighs a heavy sigh of frustration and regret.
He turns back to the Cassitran. "And what do you make of it all?" He asks, an eyebrow cocked.
As he turns back to Katri he sees she is laughing, although the sound and her eyes hold no happiness or amusement, only ice, as she watches Akon leave. She is in the process of finally rolling down her left sleeve, hididng the mark resting on her wrist. She reaches into her bag and draws out her flask, taking a long drink from it before returning it to it's resting place.
"Of what? Our arguement? Your jumping in without understanding the importance of this conversation to us, the town having nothing to do with it? Or the way our resident Warlock doesn't know how to admit that she royally screwed up when she summoned all those dead with a tiny bit of blood to appease them, demanding that they speak? I have a lot of ideas and opinions in my head righ now Solas and none of them quite pleasant, so I'm afraid you'll have to be a tad more specific." She replies when the woman is finally out of sight, turning her, now calmer, dark eyes to the Empyrean. Her head tilted to the side a bit, as if curious, but expression regarded the intrusive mane with mild interest.
Solas stands by the uordeq girl, not looking her in the eyes. A smile threatens the corner of his mouth. "The lines, lady Cassitran, are blurring. And no one is quite sure why." Solas speaks past Katri, as if trying to get the facts straight in his head. "and my only lead came up empty." He shakes his head, "how disappointing."
Solas finally looks directly at the uordeq. "As for my question toward you, it was more out of courtesy than curiosity." He spoke plainly. "but if you wish to answer with a gibe and a sneer so be it."
"Blurring lines, how fun." The girl said quietly.
"I see, well then as a courtesy, I'll say that your question was vague and there is an aweful lot running through my head at the moment. At the top of that list, is why, even out in the middle of nowhere away from town, I can't get a moment's peace in my camp for someone being burned, dying, or setting up a ritual with thick, disgusting smoke disturbing my dinner. So kindly forgive me, if you will, I'm just a bit aggitated. It was a very long winter." Katri replied, meeting the Seer's gaze. "All I have personally seen, seems par for the course for this place. It will end the same way it always does, I'm sure, with a handful of fights, a handful of casualties, and this seemingly cursed town safe for another day, at least. The spirits wandering through town are a rather odd and somewhat intriguing, but nothing here is ever normal. Each fight differs and gains oddity from the last. That, my good Empyrean, is exactly what I make of all this."
"Maybe so." The Empyrean looks away from the Uordeq girl. "Maybe the day will be saved, and the town will end up quiet and safe. And all at the price of a few lives." He cocks his head to the side. "but Id much rather no one have to die, wouldn't you?"
He smiles warmly at the girl, placing an open palm on top of her head. "In the mean time, lady Cassitran, why don't you head back to your camp and get some much needed sleep. I for one have had enough of this bickering for one day."
"I see no way for lives not to be given." Katri replied. She merely slid a glance at him when he placed his hand on her head.
"Yes, there has been plenty of arguing for the day and I still have things to finish up in camp, like my dinner, before I sleep. Shadows protect you and Night guide you, Solas." She bid him goodnight with an old fare-well blessing learned at her mother's knee
With that, she ducked out from beneath his hand and drew up her mask. With a gentle tug to pull her hood forward, she nodded to him and turned, disappearing into the trees.
As katri passed through the treeline and began to move between tree and tree, she almost comes shoulder to shoulder with none other than Blisdon the Uordeq shaman, Casually leaning against a wide tree with lots of brushwork surrounding it. Clearly within earshot of all that transpired.
"Evenin' Cassitran." Said the Huntsman with a wide grin, His tongue slightly hanging out in a wicked fashion.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. The storm is coming, You can feel it in the air. "
Katri stopped and double took, somewhat regonizing the strange Uordeq and his voice when she brushed into him and he greeted her by name. She wracked her brain for a moment, scarcely believing the name about to leave her mouth. Had he really been made Uordeq again? "Blisdon?"
She eyed him for another moment, "A storm indeed, I'm sure." She turned and started off into the night once more.
Blisdon nodded once, Saying nothing further as the uordeq strode off. He didn't bother to wait long before pulling out a rolled cigarette and lighting the end with a small match,taking a deep inhale of the herbal mixture within him, letting it surge through his system like ice inside ones veins. As he casually released the smoke from his lungs with a long exhale he let his eyes climb skywards, taking careful note of the clouds as they lazily drifted by in the dark night with his keen duskling senses.
Soon enough Blisdon closed his eyes and allowed him to recenter himself in the very core of his being,Stilling the many energies that bounce and surge and rebel inside of anyone who attempts to harness the magic of the wilds. occasionally and humorously enough, the shaman continued taking slow drags from his cigarette as he did so.
Alone now, the empyrean seer moves closer to the ritual site with caution. He peers into the cauldron curiously, cocking an eyebrow at the fire lily that had been born of carnage. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small black cloth which he fastens tightly around his face. Carefully, He reaches A hand out to the thing, extending his Sight along with it.
**Inspect Magic**
Thalenir appears in a flash of blue light, stepping out onto the edge of the scene of the ritual. He immediately spies Solas reaching toward the lilly. "I would not touch that if I were you, Solas," he advises quickly as his eyes scan the area. He beholds the spilled cauldron, the broken, ashen earth, the remnants of the ritual circle upon the ground.
"All the hallmarks of necromancy gone awry," he comments to himself with an expression of distaste. "A foolish child toying with forces she doesn't understand," he says as he strides over next to Solas, "but what of this?" He stops and kneels next to the fire lilly, not daring to touch it, his voice barely a whisper. "Could she have awoken you? What will you think if she has? Will you take your vengeance upon us for making the same mistake a second time? Will you be wrong to do so…?"
He rises. "Tell me, seer. What do you sense about this flower?"
Solas pulls his hand back from the flower, slowly. He shakes his head. "Nothing." He speaks without looking at Thalenir. "The flower itself is not magic in nature," he turns to look around the scene. "but the area is teeming with dark magic. It's..." he pauses, mostly out of dramatic effect, "no real surprise."
Finally the seer turns to Thalenir, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity. "You said 'a second time'" Solas remarked. "making the same mistake a second time,' what did you mean?"
Thalenir stares at the flower but seems to look beyond it, remembering. "Ancient history. Sins of townsfolk who long ago left these lands. But I fear the memory may still be fresh… for her." He snaps out of his reminiscence. "Come, I'll explain more back at the tavern." He places a hand on Solas' shoulder and the two disappear in a flash of light.
After having taken the Fae's advice and resting for a long spell, Akon returned to the place of the ritual and the Firelily. She sat low on a rock at the edge of the star she had made, eyeing the brairs and thorns.
It was a long while that she sat there in the quiet of the deep woods, sipping the tea the Fae had given her, before she finally arose and returned to town.
"Who dares wake the dead?" the corpse in front of Akon replies in little more than a breathy whisper as the purple mist forms around the clearing. The body rises slowly, suspended almost weightlessly in the mist and repeats itself. "Who dares? Who dares wake the dead? Who dares summon our spirits back to this accursed realm?"
Along the outer edges of the many pointed star, the mist begins to curl and warp giving breath and form to the bodies at the points of the star. "Who dares?" they begin to echo in unison as they too rise to stand. Their leathery and skeletal faces begin to shimmer and are replaced with a visage of who they once used to be. Other bodies begin to rise and slowly stagger toward the warlock in the center of the clearing.
The lifeless bodies continue to close in, but stop several feet away from the warlock in a tightly knit circle and reply in unison. "We speak, but not for you. We speak, but not by your demand. We speak, but not for your sacrifice. We speak to seek respite."
A cool wind blows across the clearing, blowing the mists away. The bodies fall in a perfect circle around Akon leaving only the shadows of the figures that they once were to surround her. Each in turn the apparitions take a step forward, slowly drawing the circle tighter around her. Each in turn, they step again. And again. And again until there is no room but for the apparaitions shoulder to shoulder around Akon and the lone corpse that she questioned.
"For your offering, we will answer your one question. The gate is closed." No sooner had the words been spoken, the corpse falls towards the cauldron knocking it over and spilling the blood sacrifice. A small trickle of the warm blood concoction spills out onto the ground causing a small tremor in the field.
Creeping vines bust from the ground and wrap around the various decaying bodies. They cling to the corpses and weave their thick tendrils through the bones. Rapidly they expand forming a tainted grove of nettles, vines, thorns, and toxic plants as the ground begins to devour the corpses. The grasses die and the ground begins to turn to ash, save for the lone spot where the blood spilt from the cauldron. There in the center of the decay a small fire lilly begins to bloom in the shadow of the cauldron.