Winning Vote: said:
[X] Gazul the Monsterslayer
━<><><>< 472 A.P. ><><><>━
You're anxious.
All signs pointed to this being a boon of some sort, or at the very least a moment to rest before the trials that would come after.
But oddly enough you can't help but feel like there's more to it.
Not that you reckon you can figure out what that is.
"Best to just get it over with," you murmur before turning to the others.
"Whoever you kneel before is wholly your choice. It will most certainly do
something, but whether it does something for everyone or only some of you remains to be seen. Either way, I see no harm in honouring Them regardless."
There's a round of idle chatter among your retainers, but it doesn't take long before people start moving past you.
"We'll not turn away any help either." you add quietly, passively watching the group break apart as people head towards their chosen Ancestor.
Your immediate thought is to do as tradition would expect, and kneel before the Patron of your Clan and the Mother of your people as you see Karstah and several of your retainers do.
But you stop yourself, and
think.
The next trial, whatever it may be, will hinge around the concept of vision.
And of all the Ancestors, you've come to associate that with Gazul.
Vigilant Gazul who's flaming blade lights the dark, The Watcher of the Dead, Hunter of Monsters, foe of what lurks unseen in the darkness of the world.
You sigh and make your choice, correcting your course so that you end up standing next to one of the few Dawi who have chosen the Keeper as well. If they have anything to say on the matter they keep it to themselves, but they do shimmy over to make room for you.
The moment you kneel, things become
strange.
Your head is down, but you swear images of the statue flash in your head, its brow raised in muted surprise. Then you feel something not so much intrude, but step into your mind. It is a voice; grinding like the lid being slid over a coffin, echoing like it came from within a burial vault, and yet resounding with absolute serene calmness, speaks to you.
You are not who I expected to be here.
The glow of burning red eyes, like barely stoked embers, fill your head. The head they sit in, the body of the Ancestor hidden by all-consuming shadow. There are only the eyes, staring, judging you by some mysterious metric for what feels like an eternity and not.
Surprised? Harumph. This Deep, this Close
, and with My Nephew's trinkets, We have a tad more leeway here than We would otherwise.
Your nose is filled with the scent of stale air, your mouth feels parched but you feel at peace.
She's unhappy, but that's your
problem to contend with I suppose.
To emphasize that point, a vague wave of feelings you immediately associate with
crossness hits you from where Valaya's statue stands.
But I suppose My ramblings aren't why you're here are you? Bah. Take this blessing and be off with you then.
You suddenly jolt back from whatever that was by a hard smack to the shoulder. Looking up, you see no one at all, but turning to look at the retainers who had kneeled here alongside you only shows you that you're alone. In fact, when you turn to the other side you realize you're actually the last one to get up. Everyone else, it seems, has already congregated in between all the statues to patiently wait for you.
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As you walk through the tunnels after leaving the Trial, or maybe the Room of Sanctuary you flex your fingers experimentally.
The sound of hurried steps behind you draws your eye, and you come face to face with Karstah. You show no outward sign of curiosity, but you certainly noticed your heir lag behind you and disappear into the retinue as you walked to the next trial.
"Back from your detour then?"
"Aye. I was satisfying my curiosity about what happened back there."
That earns a nod of understanding from you.
"And you're done now?"
"Almost." she admits after a moment, pausing hesitantly.
Hmm.
You suppose there's no harm.
A knowing grunt from you is all Karstah needs to know you'll answer.
"What do you recall, Master?" she asks before clarifying, "from the statue."
You hum for a moment.
Your recollection of events is a point of pride for you, and though it may take a moment or two to recall something,
nothing is truly forgotten. As a lad, you even had the temerity to openly claim that your head was more tightly sealed than a Longbeard's personal vault in fact. It got you in trouble, as so many rockheaded things tend to do, and you learned your lesson far too late in your life.
Now you only
think about it from the privacy of your own mind, but thankfully not as often.
So it rankles something fierce to not recall what happened. Oh you know, but you don't
know if that made a lick of sense. Like knowing no more than a summary of what happened, even though you were there.
"The words are lost to me I'm afraid. Impressions, the feelings are as easy to see as a beardling skulking about the ale kegs, but for the life of me I can't tell you what exactly was said."
Your heir nods at your words.
"That seems to track with everyone else I've asked."
You would think that would mollify the little injury your pride has suffered, but to your embarrassment and relief it hasn't.
Honestly, you don't know what would be worse. Being so petty as to find succour from that knowledge or to be so vain as to think you had any chance of defying the will of the Ancestors.
"A question then lass. What exactly did the others have to say?" you ask, genuinely curious.
"The ones who knelt before Grungni varied the most. They all agreed that it was always a lesson, a critique, and a goal. Personal to them, and them alone."
"And of your own experience with Valaya?"
"I remember the feeling of a hearthfire on my skin, and my stomach being full, a light so bright that banished the darkness yet did not blind me. I recall hearing Valaya speak to me, she gave me her favour and something…else I won't share. I also recall she seemed rather upset? Hmm. Annoyed? Ayem that fits better. She was annoyed, but not at me. I'm not sure why though."
You suppress the instinctive wince you feel coming, with a quick nod.
Next offering to Her will have to be something special you think idly.
"And Grimnir?"
Karstah doesn't pause.
"Always the same message from what the others say," she answers, void going oddly grim.
You turn your head back at her change in tone.
"Armour breaks, Flesh fails, but
Will endures.'' She repeats verbatim.
An Ancestor stands before your broken body, a tablet bearing the Rune He carved into it with an Axe's edge in His mighty hands.
Fight and live well Snorri son of Klaus…
"
and die for something even better than that," you finish quietly enough that Karstah cannot hear.
You turn your head away from your heir and back to the tunnel.
"I'm not sure how their gift will make itself known, but I suppose we'll find out when we reach the next Trial," you murmur.
You don't feel all that different to be honest, flexing your hand again, let alone blessed.
But you do not doubt that its the truth.
The Ancestor gave His word, and that was that.
You notice the tunnel beginning to widen and the familiar teal glow of Runecraft bathing the surrounding rock, and pick up the pace accordingly.
Time for the next trial.
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From what you can see on this side of the doorway the room the Trial of Vision is just like the others before it; complete with bare stone walls and hexagonal basalt pillars running the length of the entire room.
A quick glance behind you confirms that everyone else is looking at you expectantly.
You turn back and sigh, gingerly stepping into the chamber with your eyes on the lookout for whatever's about to face you.
The moment you step past the threshold a feeling of
oddness erupts from your gut.
Like Someone is watching you.
You turn around and see nothing but bare stone behind you. The feeling of being watched is stifling, but you suppress the instinctive desire to look around, and instead you force yourself to keep walking deeper into the Chamber.
Ahead of you the end of the room transforms, stone shifting and moving to reveal alcoves where three objects rest. Cautiously, you step closer to get a better look, your Windsight eye glowing to wakefulness as you examine each one.
Again it is three figures of Dwarfs, though this time they are no larger than your hand.
A child. A young plaitling no more than ten years old. Her hair is braided into two short pigtails that poke out behind her head. A doll is held tenderly in her hands, her head turned to regard something with open curiosity.
Child
A Lorekeeper stands in the middle alcove. A fullbeard going by the length of his facial hair, he wears practical if richly decorated robes and a pair of spectacles. Books, scrolls and tomes can be seen bursting from the satchels slung over his shoulders.
Fullbeard.
And lastly is an Elder, his back bent forward, his skin wrinkled like a molerat's and knees hobbled by age. His clothes are rich but well-worn, with patches on the fabric to match the scars on his skin. His lengthy beard is wrapped around his waist, while he uses a cane to hold himself upright.
Elder.
While you continue to examine the figures, that same feeling from before returns. This time it comes from
behind you, a primal feeling in your mind telling you something important is
close, and you instinctively turn around just in time to see it happen.
The stone shifts, changing from solid to what looks like a liquid before three empty alcoves rise up from it like shoots of grass. Carved in Aldrhun atop each one is a question, and your mind quickly understands what this test seems to be demanding of you.
Who sees clearest?
[ ] [Clearest:] Child
[ ] [Clearest:] Fullbeard
[ ] [Clearest:] Elder
Who sees farthest?
[ ] [Farthest:] Child
[ ] [Farthest:] Fullbeard
[ ] [Farthest:] Elder
Who sees the most?
[ ] [Most:] Child
[ ] [Most:] Fullbeard
[ ] [Most:] Elder
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Remember to vote by plan. There will be a three-hour long moratorium for discussion.
AN: Not much here I think. Hopefully the May commission(s!) will make up for it? Hope you enjoy the bits that are here though. Also yes, Valaya is a bit peeved. As always, don't forget to C&C. :^)
