The Blessings Of Astrea

Community Role Playing
1

The sky above Eclipse City was wreathed in a silver and golden radiance, the clouds marred with red and gold plumes with white strands, as the air was filled with ribbons and confetti.
Cheers and laughter rang out throughout the cobblestone streets, filled with all manners of people in merriment, from Knights Of Lune drinking mead with their sisters and brothers, proving themselves in acts of strength and courage, to the Bringers of Ray, sipping aged spirits and lounging in luxurious suites, enjoying the commodities of all that is to be offered to them, to the common folk in between, of all shapes and sizes. The Sun and The Moon hovered equally in the evening sky, and a massive crowd had gathered around a central dais, its etched surface worn with use. The buildings towered into the sky, marked with all manner of vibrant colors in the city’s errant jubilations. The smell of food wafted from vendors, while rich merchants spread glib words along their tongues about their wares.
Mighty fountains rose with statues of shining knights and gallant priests, while etched into the very cobbles of the streets were the symbols of the five gods.
@Ghid
@BynariDistress
@ajtazt
Suddenly, at the central dais, as you watch on from within the crowd, three figures emerge.
Shidris, of the very city you currently stand in, the epitome of beauty, her copper hair gleaming in the light as she was dressed in yellow silken robes, stand tall, the crowd cheering and greeting her as she stood at the boundary of the dais.
Steelstone, of Tide, was clad in the shining armor of the knights of Lune, a gleaming example of strength and power, his eyes piercing like Lune’s own gaze. The Knights roared with approval, and they raised their swords and spears into the air.
A third figure, clad in shadowy robes, a smirking mask wrapped around their face, took a bow, and was followed with a smattering of polite claps.

Shidris raised her hand, and a hush fell over the crowd. You couldn’t possibly help but feel slightly excited for what’s to come.

“Many years ago, before even my time, on this day, the great and wretched creature, Obol, was cast down from the earth, down into It’s darkest bowels, never to be seen again!”
The crowd cheered together.
“We have served faithfully, slaying the monsters, keeping ourselves faithful, and staying true!”
The crowd responded in turn, their hands cast up to the sky, to the moon and sun, to the void between.
“And now, our mighty gods shall bless us, shall usher in a new generation, a new line of followers, and reignite those who have lost their flame! To guide us! To protect us! To the old!”
“TO THE OLD!” The crowd chanted.
“To the new!”
“TO THE NEW!”
"To the gods!’
“TO THE GODS!”
“LET IT BEGIN!” Steelstone roared, as the Knights stamped their feet.
“LET IT BEGIN!”

2 Likes
2

“Let it begin!” Terbor Cheered with the crowd before leaning back and draining the last of the spiced ale in his mug. The action made him lose his footing and he fell back against Enrico (his donkey) who in turn let out an annoyed bray.

“What’s wrong Enrico?” Tebor slurred, “do you feel left out of the celebration?” Turning back to the merchant he raised his glass in a grand gesture and shouted, “Bar Keep! One more for me, and one for my long faced friend here.” Laying down the proper coin, he slid it and the mug across the bar before releasing a grotesque belch.

Let it begin indeed.

2 Likes
3

This was the day.

Conleth was standing in the crowd of other youths, most of whom gave him the occasional glance out of curiosity. His lunar-themed attire proudly displayed his prophetic gift-to-be, and he occasionally combed his fingers through his black hair triumphantly, as if the day was already over and done and he was seated in his rightful place as the talk of the town.

Of course, there was little anyone could say to contest that notion; he was the jealousy of all the other kids his age, nobody else had received a prophecy of this nature regarding the festival, and he…

…fought back the notion that something would go wrong. Nothing would go wrong; how could it? He would receive the gift, just as he expected to, there would be applause, he’d shake everyone’s hand, and then he’d go home and revel in his new power just as he always planned it for most of his life. Of course there wouldn’t be any complications.

As the crowd roared in anticipation, Conleth slowly crossed his arms and smugly grinned. This was the day.

3 Likes
4

The barkeep was slightly red faced himself,
a portly figure who grumbled, his shiny head wrapped in cloth.
He grasped a large wooden mug, filling it to the brim with mead, the foam frothing and spilling out.
He slid it towards Tebor, eyeballing him. “You’re not around from here, are you?”
He said, his voice gravelly.

The crowd swayed and moved around Conleth, a living entity, enraptured by Shidris and Steelstone. Soon, their respective lieutenants set down two chalices, one silver, encrusted with diamonds, the other gold, engraved with rubies. A third was placed, made of pure obsidian.
Steelstone raised their hand, their armor clinking as they motioned. A hush fell over the crowd, as a miasma of anticipation arose like a fog over the people.

“Now. We shall select from you the finest and best of all, those chosen and graced by the gods, to receive their blessings…”

The lieutenants raised two amphorae, filling them each with golden ichor. It slightly spilled, a dazzling radiance. Then the masked figure came close to the third chalice, and pulled out a blade. A wet, cutting noise could be heard as they slit their palm, the blood dripping into the obsidian chalice, turning the gold into a russet red.
Shidris nodded to the figure, as they retreated.

She turned once more to the crowd, “We shall select those to be the new among our number.” Her eyes blazed as she scanned the crowd, locking once with Conleth’s.

2 Likes
5

The whole ceremony was enthralling. It had not happened in his lifetime, as far as he could remember, and seeing the whole procedure unfolding before his very eyes was like watching a play on stage… But with much more gravitas and splendor.

I’m gonna be up there. His eyes glowed. I’m going to be chosen.

As Shidris’s eyes met his, the pomp and grandeur with which he has expressed himself was suddenly gone. The eyes which seemed to cut directly into his soul brought with them the vague and yet unanswerable sensation of just how real this whole ordeal was. Monumental. Unstoppable.

Suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be chosen. But, then again, did he have a choice?

2 Likes
6

Tebor sighed as he slowly processed the question. The sound of music and celebration made his head throb, and no matter how much he had to drink, it couldn’t dull his memories.

“Something like that.” He said, slurring his words. Even though there were plenty of merchants selling drinks … and had a lot of drinks tonight, he still didn’t feel it nearly as much as he was pretending. Hoping his so called drunkenness would help keep the eyes of those in power off of him.

Hearing those words, he worked his hand like it were a puppet, mocking the speaker. Maybe he was feeling the drinks. He started to feel more of a mule than Enrico.
With a sigh, he turned around, leaning against the bar, taking a moment to steady himself after the slight sensation of spinning made him dizzy before facing Shidris.

“Gross!” He thought after seeing the ritual. He decided to turn back around and face the bar. From the look of those around him, he must not have just thought it though.

Taking hold of the mug, he held it high once more, allowing some of the foam to slosh out and onto the bar, spilling over and onto his pants; leaving a dark stain making it seem as though he had peed himself. He however, didn’t notice nor care. He just wanted the night to be over.

“To Obol with the gods.” He whispered, before downing the entire mug in one big gulp. The sensation of warm mead turning his stomach,

To Obol with you all

2 Likes
7

“It brings me joy that you listened,” her mother said as she embraced Setara.

When back at arms length, she looked over her daughter again. Rather than donning on armor, or even a gambeson at the very least, Setara wore something more fitting in her mother’s eye. It was simple dress that reached to the ground, with loose sleeves, and was the bright red of the evening sky. Embroidered strips of dark yellow triangles beam down to the ends of the dress, with their top points hidden by a similarly colored girdle wrapped around her waist. The orangey-yellow of the kirtle, or the creamy undergarment smock could be caught inside the sleeves or opening hear the neck. Her hat was a brighter yellow, circular and wide-brimmed with a downward curve, almost like a mushroom. Though it did not come down far enough to obscure her eyes, it did have a thin veil around it to complete the solar orb look.

“Though must that be the hat you wear?” Her mother asked.

“When else would be a more fitting time,” Setara gave as a playful retort.

Setara would have preferred to have been in her armor. But she wears her armor often and would again soon. Same for celebrating with her fellow knights. It was time to spend the festival with family and she didn’t have many opportunities to wear her nicer dress. And it matched her mother’s, though it was slightly more intricate in patterns. That and the hat she wore was more of a bonnet, half-halo effect resting on her head. Which lead well into the half-sun face mask that covered the left side.

Normally, her mother and the rest of her family would include more things to have lamps or other light sources integrated. Or at least something to reflect the light. But today, to beam more like the suns or mirror the moons’ shine was not necessary. Their power was displayed in full.

Throughout the festivities, Setara would play a number of games, both with family and strangers. She would show off how many lanterns she could carry on her staff or stacking things on her head. Occasionally, she would test the other knights to see if they recognized her. But when the time came, she gathered with everyone else and watched that central dais.

This was it - the highlight of the celebration. She shouted with whatever might her lung allowed with the crowd, stamping her staff with the knights. When things started to quiet and the cups were presented, Setara almost could do nothing else than watch in anticipation.

“Maybe it will be you this time,” she said teasing sibling and parent alike.

She waited to see whom would be picked.

3 Likes
8

Shidris chanted something, and suddenly, the air was filled with gleaming threads, each one attached to certain individuals, bound to each chalice. They were soft to the touch, gossamer threads shining in the twilight. She selected one, a golden thread. She pulled on it, as it connected to the shining golden chalice, and Conleth could feel something lurch inside him, as the thread soon tethered itself to him, pulling him through the crowd towards the dais.

The barkeep looked at him with a strange expression.
Then he snorted.
“As if that would happen. That thing is too shattered and broken now. I doubt there’s anything left. Good riddance. Never liked the idea of him.”

Steelstone also selected a silver thread. He tugged onto it, and it attached itself to Setera.
She could feel the same tugging, and she too was being pulled towards the center. @ajtazt

3 Likes
9

Looking at the man, Tebor sighed. “Neither do I.” He finally said, laying down coin once more to pay his tab before turning to see the threads.

Better leave while everyone is distracted he thought, taking Enrico’s harness in hand before staggering away.

1 Like
10

All the worry and dread in Conleth’s eyes vanished as they were overwhelmed with the splendor of the glowing strands. Shimmering in the air, they were like the strings of some harp anchored to the heavens, the sounds that they played being echoed in the wind.

His eyes traveling across them, Conleth’s eyes widened even further as he discovered the thread anchored into the center of his chest. It had a magical and ominous feeling to it, with momentous power hidden just beneath his skin, equal parts awe-inspiring and uncertain.

Before he had the chance to touch the glowing thread embedded in his chest, it suddenly pulled him forwards, causing him to stumble for a moment and drawing attention to his existence in the crowd. But the constant pressure of the thread did not relent; he would have to keep a casual pace or risk getting dragged. Looking around in panic, he noticed a girl with a silver thread being drawn from the crowds as well.

Is this what it’s like? To receive the blessing? I wish somebody could’ve told me how this is meant to go BEFORE I got dragged around and made to look foolish.

3 Likes
11

Tebor kept his distance from the crowds, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed something odd. Seeing two people with strands of gold and silver being lead through the crowd. Looking down he quickly checked himself out of concern.

Okay, good. he thought, after seeing nothing attached to him. Deciding it was a good idea to flee while he could, he pushed Enrico along hoping to avoid any chance of a thread finding him.

2 Likes
12

Setara tilted her head upwards, looking at the threads. She tried to follow where they were going as each was tugged and connected. Yet when Steelstone tugged on one and it latched onto herself, she looked around to see where it went. She almost turned around, thinking it went past her, when she suddenly found herself pulled forward.

That singular tug caused her to take several stumbling steps forward with an “uhk!” of surprise. She managed to catch herself before falling between leaning on her staff and grabbing a random nearby person. When she steadied herself, Setara turned around and looked back to see if someone pushed her. Her family looked at her with a mix of surprised confusion.

“This is no time for jokes. What are you doing?” Her mother stammered out.

“I–I would not dare. It’s not-” Setara tried to counter but was briefly cutoff.

She felt the tug again and was spun back to facing the dais. Regaining her balance swifter this time, she finally looked down and saw the connection.

“-me…” Setara finished.

Looking back for one more time, Setara saw her mother had stepped forward and reached out for her. Mouth agape, the truth was now upon them.

I’ve been chosen.

Many have wished to be chosen - it was a child’s dream and a parent’s hope. Yet Setara never imagined she would be picked. There were better knights, more deserving faithful. In this moment it made little sense to her. But who was she to deny the gods?

Another tug and this time she followed its pull. She used her staff to help excuse the crowd and push on through, following the rhythms of the tugs. Her eyes were so affixed to her new path, she nearly forgot about the others. Searching through the crowds, she saw at least one other being pulled. Some boy that plenty chatted about earlier. Seems the stories were true, but surely there were more. Where are the rest?

4 Likes
13

Shidris stopped pulling on the thread as Conleth reached the dais, and smiled gloriously, like a radiant beam. The ancient etching beneath their feet almost vibrated from the anticipation from the crowd, as more threads were grasped, and more were brought to the dais.

“Rejoice, for you’ve been chosen…”

She said, as the crowd cheered. They were excited now, excited to see the new blessings unfold in their ultimate glory.
She patted his shoulder. She was even more like the sun now that she was closer, almost painfully.

Tebor suddenly found himself being tugged, as if he was strung up and being dragged away, closer to the crowd. And if he looked at his chest, he would indeed see a white-hot threat, anchored to his chest. The crowd slowly parted as he was being dragged away, and his vision sharpened as the buzz from the mead suddenly vanished.

She was indeed chosen. Steelstone pulled her to the dais, and the crowd roared once again with approval, as her wrist was grasped and her hand was raised triumphantly. Steelstone grinned beneath his helmet, the excitement also blazing like the buzz of victory, until the figure with the smirking mask whispered in his ear, at which point he scowled.

“Are you kidding me?”

The figure nodded, as Steelstone grimaced.

“Fine.” He snarled.

The figure then faced Setara.

“Little one, you are an enigma. For you, have been chosen by not one, but two gods. Lunar, and Ombre. And so, it is now up for you, to choose.”

The figures voice was like molasses, thick and dark, as he continued to speak, his cloak whispering against the ancient flagstones.

“To choose your destiny. Make your choice, Setara.”

4 Likes
14

Indeed, it had indeed begun. The sound of beating fists on table, and mugs a full sloshing and slushing from side to side. It was a lovely cacophony of noise, a beauty in excitement was to be observed.

The smell was debatable, the smell of barley’s juice was certainly a divine blessing to be sure, although some of the kin about him clearly needed a fresh change of clothes, the smell of sweat was starting to prevail their perfume. However, he reasoned smiling ruefully, this might just be a curse of his own heightened sense of smell.

At the sound of the trio three, he gave pause and focused on the words now coming from the platform, that and the clapping and cheering, although to participate himself would probably be less than apt. After all he did not know who they were cheering for yet.

Then the women spoke and he understood a bit clearer, “Ah, yes,” he thought, “That makes more sense.”

He stood up, his staff hitting the ground with a crack, although that crack was not loud enough to be heard across the cheering and laughing of his compatriots. He cracked his neck and smiled, his brother was just here today, but somewhere to the north of his location, he could hear him laughing hard with his warrior friends. Where his sister and his mother had chosen he did not quite recall. The sound was more than he had heard in many moons, and he didn’t know quite where they had gone.

“Ah, well,” he thought, “No matter, let us see who is to be chosen. Although surely my brother will be the one to take this prize,” he mused inwardly as his hand moved to adjust his ornamental hat of the moon, after all it was the chosen god of the house.

Today was a good day.

2 Likes
15

Conleth wanted to ask why he was not standing next to Steelstone. He wanted to protest being dragged in such a… Humiliating fashion from his happy spot in the crowd instead of being summoned by name to receive what was rightfully his. Even the level of brightness coming off of Shidris seemed worth mentioning, like being two inches from a campfire.

But he couldn’t manage any of it.

All he could do was stare up in total awe at the transfixing splendor of this emissary, the mouthpiece of the gods. All the scene was missing in its transformation from reality to an impossible dream was the ethereal choir he pictured in his mind.

It didn’t matter that it had not gone the way that he intended, or that he appeared to be standing in the wrong spot. At the moment, it felt like he had ascended into the clouds.

3 Likes
16

Stopping in his tracks at the feeling, Tebor spun around. At first, he thought someone in the crowd had grabbed him; triggering his fight or flight response only to see … no one? Then he felt it again, this time stronger; almost pulling him off his feet. Looking about he only saw the crowd, those closest to him startled by his movement and then cheering. Patting him on the shoulder, trying to guide him forward.

“Get your hands off me!” He protested, trying to break free. In his struggle, his mind began to clear and he heard words such as honor and chosen being shouted by those nearest him.

”This can’t be!” he thought, tightness gripping his chest as anxiety began to set in.
Out of pure reflex, he reached for his chest feeling something odd. Glancing down he saw it.

His eyes widened at the site. This had to be a cruel trick, by what insanity would he be chosen!
He continued to struggle, pressing his body against the thread in an attempt to break free; but it was of no use.

He felt a tremendous push from behind, breaking his efforts to fight the thread. Turning to see Enrico, his head lowered and driving him forward.

“Stop it!” Tebor shouted, his pleas drown out by the crowd. “Stupid donkey!” He continued, only to see Enrico stop and bray loudly as the thread began to pull him along faster.

“It’s not funny!” Tebor yelled back at the donkey, pointing his finger at the animal.

Watching his companion disappear into the crowd, Tebor sighed and then relented in his struggle.

Upon hearing this, Tebor Adjusted his hat, then squared his shoulders and began to march forward. “Maybe they made a mistake with me too.” he thought. ”Might as well get this over with.

As he approached the center of the crowd, he looked at Shidris; unease on his mind. ”But what if they didn’t make a mistake?”

3 Likes
17

As she was pulled to stand with Steelstone, Setara was so awash with the shock and excitement that she nearly trembled. When her hero, leader of their knightly order, grabbed her wrist and threw her arm in the air, the drums of her heart beat with all their might. Yet she could not hear nor feel it over the roar and energy of the crowd. Mouth open wide with a smile, she could not bring herself to say a word. Just breathing in the moment was hard enough. Could not even raise her other arm to thrust her staff in the air.

Regaining enough sense and strength, Setara managed to pry her eyes away from staring up at Steelstone’s helm and twisted her body to look a the crowd. She scanned through the crowd and found that her family managed to push her mother toward the front. Her mother was still haggard in disbelief and breathing heavy. Bewilderment of pride and concern as her daughter stood next to the moon gods’ champion.

This was it - something beyond her dreams. Not only chosen to be blessed but by that of the moon. Offered to become a legend alongside Steelstone. And seeing the look on her mother’s face, Setara knew she could not rest on having this blessing alone. No, she must prove herself threefold over now. Not solely for her choice in knighthood but that the gods were not in error. She only wished that she had worn her armor instead.

Then, she felt something. Not her heart, not the struggling lungs, not the nervous fluttering excitement - nothing of that sort. Just as sudden as her choosing, she felt her stomach quake and twist. Steelstone had said something. It was quiet and she did not catch all the words, yet the tone was obvious.

Was there a mistake?

Setara turned around to face Steelstone again, the veil offering little to hide her expression. The smile almost shut tight, lips still barely parted. Eyes darted around as they try to stay on the helm but she wanted to stare at the ground. It had to be a mistake. Of course it was - why did she, even for a moment, think her being chosen was possible?

When Steelstone snarled that, “Fine,” the drums stopped. Her eyes focused on him before finally noticing the shadow figure. Setara focused on him when she realized he was now staring at her.

She froze. Petrified. Only becoming animate thanks to the crowd.

There were several blinks. Her mouth tried to stumble out words yet none came. Chosen by two gods. TWO. One was challenging enough. In that moment, she couldn’t remember if anyone had been picked by more than one. Or even that the gods would allow a mere mortal, like herself, to pick between them.

Setara looked at the two cups. First to the chalice of the moon, then to the chalice of space, and back to both at once. Entrusted to pick only one. She wrapped her arm around her staff and leaned on it more.

How hard could this choice be? If all three were placed before her and asked to pick one, Setara would have taken Lunar’s with no hesitation. Did she not choose to follow the moon and train hard for knighthood? Would it not make sense to accept their blessing and serve evermore with them?

Yet, to follow was a choice and to be blessed was not. And here, two gods wanted to give her blessings. They had to choose her. If Sol or Solar had chosen her, she could find understanding in it. With Lun and Luna, a reward she would pay back. But Ombre? Why would he pick her? What did she have to offer him that he would challenge a claim of blessing on her?

Though she did not notice, Setara was leaning closer to Ombre’s cup. Creeping ever closer. She could not explain it. Her heart, core of who she is, kept telling her to take the lunar blessing. But curiosity gnawed at her; tried dragging her away. It started to hurt.

Why? Why must I choose at all? I wish not that the gods fight over my hand. I am but one mere mortal, for what reason should they duel over me? I wish naught to be blessed at all and have this pain taken from me. . . Yet, who am I to deny the gods who have given me overwhelming favor? I must choose…

Righting herself with as much strength and height her small form would allow, Setara looked straight at Steelstone. With a few deep breaths, she finally gave her answer.

“My lord, please forgive me. Please do not take this as a rejection of our duties as knights, nor abandonment of the moon. Just as I did not reject the twin suns when I came to follow in your steps do I not reject Lunar’s offering now. Though I ache to accept I — I, I am choosing Ombre blessing this day. I need to understand why he wishes to bless me.”

Her head turns away as she could not bear to look at him anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she gave as a soft, almost mournful apology.

4 Likes
18

There was a cracking sound, as yet another thread found it’s way to him, yet he wasn’t pulled along…not yet.

A flare of recognition crossed Shidris’s face.
It was quite puzzling to her. This stranger fit a description of a heretic from a few years ago who fled with there family. Yet, obviously, this wasn’t a heretic, because no heretic would be chosen. Quite the puzzler…
She mulled it over.

She then dismissed that thought as she looked down at that little one, that prophesied boy…and yet…the thread wasn’t silver…it was a pure gold.
She smirked inwardly to herself.

Steelstone scowled with disapproval, a disdain seemingly deeply lodged within him. He muttered something under his breath about ‘Traitorous Shadows’ and turned away, a storm of fury roiling within.

Meanwhile, however, the smirking masked figure bowed, as Setara’s thread became a blood red, pure crimson. The figures cloak fluttered as they bowed.

“Ombre is waiting… simply drink…and understand…”

He gestured to the obsidian chalice. In the corner of Setara’s eye, she could see others, there, as if urging her on. The drums began again with a new intensity, further pushing her, begging her to choose. To settle this.

4 Likes
19

Hearing it only in part, Setara looked back at Steelstone. She almost reached out a hand towards him, but stopped just as she lifted her arm. All she could do was give a quiet, “please.”

Seeing the other bow and then the thread change color, Setara nearly took a step back. The hand that wished to reach the moon instead came to press against herself near the thread’s anchor. She could feel her heart now with the hand so close, the pressure building as the world crowed in on her.

She moved her hand away from the thread and reached out for the chalice. First hovering by the moon’s, only pausing for a moment, then grabbed the obsidian chalice. Her trembling hand ceased its shaking once she had hold of it. Fear of spilling such a drink outweighed that of choice.

Chalice in hand, Setara came down on her knees and place her staff on the ground in front of herself. Using her freed up hand, she moved her veil to keep it from getting into the cup and brought it to her lips. Her eyes narrowed on its contents and then she tiled the cup into her mouth, moving her head towards the sky. She drank however much she should, praying for forgiveness. Praying that she made the right choice.

When she was finished, her head came back down and she peered into the cup as though to confirm it was done. She then placed the chalice back to its place and looked at the mask figure. She was unsure what to do next, but Setara wanted to assure Steelstone that she was still a knight.

4 Likes
20

Ascending the steps, Tebor found himself standing next to two others, his annoyance at his current circumstances only growing as he saw their excitement at being picked. And then, he witnessed something that made his blood boil …

Tebor didn’t give any effort to show his disdain for Steelstone as he walked away from the girl; who to him was showing remorse for being forced to make a choice.

”Nothings changed.” he thought as he watched Steelstone leave.

Watching this scene take place, he grimaced as the girl next to him drank from the cup.

”Dont drink that, you don’t know what’s in it!”
He thought. Outwardly making a face as he continued to ponder what could have been in the cup.

He decided to turn away before he allowed his mind to wander too much further on the thought.

Looking back at Shidris, he gestured to the white hot thread attached to him.

“Am I to assume a mistake was made with me as well?” He questioned, no signs of reverence in his voice as he spoke. “And no offense,” he continued; looking once more to the cup, “I have no intention of drinking anything like that.”

3 Likes