Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived The Kuham
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as written by Lobos
A chant in the forest sounded, muted by the density of the foliage surrounding it. The pounding of drums, the cadence of the guttural words giving the sense of a ritual in progress. And indeed, it was.
A glade, bordering on a portion of the rainforest in the shadow of twin mountains, held within dozens of figures, dancing about in pre-ordained patterns, hands slapping drums adorned with grisly fetishes, all the while a struggling shape was dragged by two up the short stairs of a slightly raised platform on the extreme edge of the glade. Rough torches cast flickering, nightmare shadows around, the Tal’asan elves who pranced throwing exaggerated shadows of their tribal garb, the ceremonial dress of their god.
It was a call to their god, and offering of the old ways, the forbidden ways. And at the hinting rustle of something sliding towards the glade, noted by those closest to the ominous, shadowed woods, the cadence grew ever louder.
A chant in the forest sounded, muted by the density of the foliage surrounding it. The pounding of drums, the cadence of the guttural words giving the sense of a ritual in progress. And indeed, it was.
A glade, bordering on a portion of the rainforest in the shadow of twin mountains, held within dozens of figures, dancing about in pre-ordained patterns, hands slapping drums adorned with grisly fetishes, all the while a struggling shape was dragged by two up the short stairs of a slightly raised platform on the extreme edge of the glade. Rough torches cast flickering, nightmare shadows around, the Tal’asan elves who pranced throwing exaggerated shadows of their tribal garb, the ceremonial dress of their god.
It was a call to their god, and offering of the old ways, the forbidden ways. And at the hinting rustle of something sliding towards the glade, noted by those closest to the ominous, shadowed woods, the cadence grew ever louder.
as written by Alara
Standing atop the platform was the most ornately garbed of those gathered. Her vibrantly crested head dress and gold ornaments created a dazzling display beneath the flickering shadows, and the dim light reflected upon the serpentine amulet that hung from the high priestess' throat.
The energy of the frenzied dancing washed over her intoxicatingly, and she could feel it thrumming through the pounding of her heart as her exhilaration grew.
Dark magic was afoot tonight as the struggling form was dragged towards the altar that stood before the high priestess.
Standing atop the platform was the most ornately garbed of those gathered. Her vibrantly crested head dress and gold ornaments created a dazzling display beneath the flickering shadows, and the dim light reflected upon the serpentine amulet that hung from the high priestess' throat.
The energy of the frenzied dancing washed over her intoxicatingly, and she could feel it thrumming through the pounding of her heart as her exhilaration grew.
Dark magic was afoot tonight as the struggling form was dragged towards the altar that stood before the high priestess.
as written by Lobos
As though the scent of prey had drawn the attention of whatever lurked there, a hush fell over those animals that dared to cry out as the ritual took place. A pause in the cadence, wide, expectant, and somewhat fearful eyes looking to the woods beyond the platform.
What slithered from the woods was substantially large, a humanoid torso towering over the platform, the coils of dull, golden scales rippling as the serpentine lower half slithered forward, the noise of his approach no longer heard, the faintest whisper of virtually silent approach without regard to the detritus below. Shadows fell over the face of the entity, but those within knew him by the twin-bladed spear in one three fingered hand, the rough metal glinting in the torchlight. A menacing hiss came from his veiled maw, and the cadence began anew in a rising frenzy.
Heading for the crescendo...
As though the scent of prey had drawn the attention of whatever lurked there, a hush fell over those animals that dared to cry out as the ritual took place. A pause in the cadence, wide, expectant, and somewhat fearful eyes looking to the woods beyond the platform.
What slithered from the woods was substantially large, a humanoid torso towering over the platform, the coils of dull, golden scales rippling as the serpentine lower half slithered forward, the noise of his approach no longer heard, the faintest whisper of virtually silent approach without regard to the detritus below. Shadows fell over the face of the entity, but those within knew him by the twin-bladed spear in one three fingered hand, the rough metal glinting in the torchlight. A menacing hiss came from his veiled maw, and the cadence began anew in a rising frenzy.
Heading for the crescendo...
as written by ladygrey
Ah, the chanting had started again. Such a sweet sound, as the voices of the local tribe rose and fell. He could feel the energy in the air, knew what was coming as he watched them from the shadows on the jungle. Eyes bright as he watched the Naga move towards the alter.
And ohhh, it was coming soon. His skin crackled with the raw power flowing through the heavy air.
The reverence for their Gods. Glancing down at the ink embedded in his skin he thought of the moment when he was brought into this realm. When the tattoos were placed upon his steely gray flesh binding him to the mortal realm. Eons ago he was brought over by the Gods and it was sheer luck that his life was swept up and he was cast into a whole new world. A new world for him to cause bad dreams, to hide in. A new people to watch from the shadows, to learn their ways and know them.
Ah, the chanting had started again. Such a sweet sound, as the voices of the local tribe rose and fell. He could feel the energy in the air, knew what was coming as he watched them from the shadows on the jungle. Eyes bright as he watched the Naga move towards the alter.
And ohhh, it was coming soon. His skin crackled with the raw power flowing through the heavy air.
The reverence for their Gods. Glancing down at the ink embedded in his skin he thought of the moment when he was brought into this realm. When the tattoos were placed upon his steely gray flesh binding him to the mortal realm. Eons ago he was brought over by the Gods and it was sheer luck that his life was swept up and he was cast into a whole new world. A new world for him to cause bad dreams, to hide in. A new people to watch from the shadows, to learn their ways and know them.
as written by Alara
"No! Noooo! Please, someone help me!"
The prisoner struggled and screamed as a primal terror gripped him, but it did little to deter two men from forcing him backwards over the altar. A pair of hands tore his shirt open to expose his chest which heaved and strained as he tried to free himself from the men holding him down.
Overhead there was a flash of obsidian as the High Priestess raised the ceremonial knife up with both hands and his eyes went wide with terror.
"Venomagia!" she screamed out before plunging the knife downwards.
His body stiffened and his mouth gaped in pain as the blade was buried within his abdominal cavity. The High Priestess withdrew it swiftly before reaching her hand into the gaping wound just below his ribs, and the man's screams turned to gargled cries and his face turned ashen as the blood drained from it.
All around them silence had fallen over the crowd, and only the steady thrum of the drums could be heard as her fingers closed around the man's still beating heart. There was a look of ecstasy upon her face as she tore it from his chest and raised it overhead to the explosive cheering of the onlookers.
"Venomagia!" she screamed again.
This time the onlookers joined in with a growing chant.
"Venomagia... Venomagia... Venomagia..."
When the naga approached, the crowd parted ways and knelt with their heads bowed as he swept through their ranks and passed them by.
The High Priestess too turned to face the naga and she knelt with her head bowed and the heart offered up overhead to their approaching god.
In the background the soft chant of Venomagia and the steady beat of the drums continued.
Would he accept their offering, or would he punish them? Even the High Priestess couldn't deny the invigorating sensation of terror that nestled itself within her pounding heart. Within her hands warm blood ran in rivulets down her arms, and the heart continued to beat - kept animated by the dark magics that had summoned Venomagia from the depths of the rainforest.
"No! Noooo! Please, someone help me!"
The prisoner struggled and screamed as a primal terror gripped him, but it did little to deter two men from forcing him backwards over the altar. A pair of hands tore his shirt open to expose his chest which heaved and strained as he tried to free himself from the men holding him down.
Overhead there was a flash of obsidian as the High Priestess raised the ceremonial knife up with both hands and his eyes went wide with terror.
"Venomagia!" she screamed out before plunging the knife downwards.
His body stiffened and his mouth gaped in pain as the blade was buried within his abdominal cavity. The High Priestess withdrew it swiftly before reaching her hand into the gaping wound just below his ribs, and the man's screams turned to gargled cries and his face turned ashen as the blood drained from it.
All around them silence had fallen over the crowd, and only the steady thrum of the drums could be heard as her fingers closed around the man's still beating heart. There was a look of ecstasy upon her face as she tore it from his chest and raised it overhead to the explosive cheering of the onlookers.
"Venomagia!" she screamed again.
This time the onlookers joined in with a growing chant.
"Venomagia... Venomagia... Venomagia..."
When the naga approached, the crowd parted ways and knelt with their heads bowed as he swept through their ranks and passed them by.
The High Priestess too turned to face the naga and she knelt with her head bowed and the heart offered up overhead to their approaching god.
In the background the soft chant of Venomagia and the steady beat of the drums continued.
Would he accept their offering, or would he punish them? Even the High Priestess couldn't deny the invigorating sensation of terror that nestled itself within her pounding heart. Within her hands warm blood ran in rivulets down her arms, and the heart continued to beat - kept animated by the dark magics that had summoned Venomagia from the depths of the rainforest.
as written by Lobos
Languidly regarding the sacrificial scene, blank, serpentine eyes betrayed neither approval or dismissal. He paused just shy of the altar, merely watching.
Then he struck, lightning fast as his jaws hyperextended, fangs as long as short shorts flashing into view. Yet for all his speed, he slowed at the last moment, taking the offering without drawing the hands that held it within his hungered maw. The morsel swallowed entire, the hiss of pleasure as Venomagia savored the offering, the taste of flesh and the rush of fell powers involved in the ritual. Flesh, blood, and bone, the ways of the old magicks, the forbidden magicks. Eldritch power and crimson stained altars, all in his name. Satisfying. Pleasing.
Swinging his spear aloft, he lowered it to settle on the priestess' shoulder, lips curling from his fangs into a macabre, horrifying smile. Tongue snaking out as he leaned inward, lapping at the blood on her arms, scenting the fear and the ecstasy that swirled from the Tal’asan woman. Withdrawing the touch, he slid along to the altar itself, weaving around the corpse of the victim.
An offering accepted once again.
Languidly regarding the sacrificial scene, blank, serpentine eyes betrayed neither approval or dismissal. He paused just shy of the altar, merely watching.
Then he struck, lightning fast as his jaws hyperextended, fangs as long as short shorts flashing into view. Yet for all his speed, he slowed at the last moment, taking the offering without drawing the hands that held it within his hungered maw. The morsel swallowed entire, the hiss of pleasure as Venomagia savored the offering, the taste of flesh and the rush of fell powers involved in the ritual. Flesh, blood, and bone, the ways of the old magicks, the forbidden magicks. Eldritch power and crimson stained altars, all in his name. Satisfying. Pleasing.
Swinging his spear aloft, he lowered it to settle on the priestess' shoulder, lips curling from his fangs into a macabre, horrifying smile. Tongue snaking out as he leaned inward, lapping at the blood on her arms, scenting the fear and the ecstasy that swirled from the Tal’asan woman. Withdrawing the touch, he slid along to the altar itself, weaving around the corpse of the victim.
An offering accepted once again.
as written by Alara
"Master," the priestess spoke out as she knelt before Venomagia.
She could still feel the lingering touch of his tongue where it had snaked across her arms, and it left a prickling sensation crawling beneath her skin. Some might have found the sensation revolting, but the priestess could feel the power that had been contained within that touch as it crackled along her flesh. She alone had been chosen as his high priestess, and she alone had felt the touch of their god.
"The warriors are ready," she told him. "Even the young have been blooded in preparation for your coming. They too will fight, and die for you. Those too old and unfit for battle have been sacrificed in your name, to lend what remains of their strength to those who remain."
The depth of these people's devotion to their unholy god was such that many an elder had proudly walked him or herself to the sacrificial altar with the unflinching belief that their death would bring victory to their people.
"We await only your blessing."
____
Meanwhile while Noxtus was enthralled by the unfolding ritual, another had taken note of his presence.
"You," a man's voice warned as he stepped out of the surrounding jungle underbrush with his spear leveled towards the base of Noxtus' head. "Walk forward, slowly."
The Tal'asan warrior would give a light jab of his weapon to encourage ths stranger to step forth into view of the rest of those gathered.
"Master," the priestess spoke out as she knelt before Venomagia.
She could still feel the lingering touch of his tongue where it had snaked across her arms, and it left a prickling sensation crawling beneath her skin. Some might have found the sensation revolting, but the priestess could feel the power that had been contained within that touch as it crackled along her flesh. She alone had been chosen as his high priestess, and she alone had felt the touch of their god.
"The warriors are ready," she told him. "Even the young have been blooded in preparation for your coming. They too will fight, and die for you. Those too old and unfit for battle have been sacrificed in your name, to lend what remains of their strength to those who remain."
The depth of these people's devotion to their unholy god was such that many an elder had proudly walked him or herself to the sacrificial altar with the unflinching belief that their death would bring victory to their people.
"We await only your blessing."
____
Meanwhile while Noxtus was enthralled by the unfolding ritual, another had taken note of his presence.
"You," a man's voice warned as he stepped out of the surrounding jungle underbrush with his spear leveled towards the base of Noxtus' head. "Walk forward, slowly."
The Tal'asan warrior would give a light jab of his weapon to encourage ths stranger to step forth into view of the rest of those gathered.
as written by ladygrey
The faint hints of a smile passed over the Nightmares face. He should have been listening to the forest more closely. Ah, well.
He cocked his head to the side in thought. It would appear that the moment of truth had come. Did he wish to follow the orders of this Tal'asan warrior? Or should he melt into the shadows? This moment had been a long time coming.
With a sigh he took a single step forward, his brow knitting together when he felt the tip of the warriors spear upon his flesh. A growl rose from his chest, while he could understand the man's apprehension he could not stomach the treatment that had befallen him. Noxtus closed his snow white eyes, allowing the anger that had risen to flow back into calm, humored thoughts. When he opened his eyes that had returned to sea-glass.
He took another step forward, energy rippling through his fingertips as he got a closer look at the Tal'asan.
The faint hints of a smile passed over the Nightmares face. He should have been listening to the forest more closely. Ah, well.
He cocked his head to the side in thought. It would appear that the moment of truth had come. Did he wish to follow the orders of this Tal'asan warrior? Or should he melt into the shadows? This moment had been a long time coming.
With a sigh he took a single step forward, his brow knitting together when he felt the tip of the warriors spear upon his flesh. A growl rose from his chest, while he could understand the man's apprehension he could not stomach the treatment that had befallen him. Noxtus closed his snow white eyes, allowing the anger that had risen to flow back into calm, humored thoughts. When he opened his eyes that had returned to sea-glass.
He took another step forward, energy rippling through his fingertips as he got a closer look at the Tal'asan.
as written by Alara
A hiss of distaste and anger was drawn from the High Priestess as Noxtus was prodded into view with his spear. Now of all times was no time for error or mistake within the eyes of their god.
"What is the meaning of this?!" she hissed.
"He was found skulking in the shadows," the Tal'asan warrior explained. "A spy from Mintinca."
The blood rivalry between the Mintincan Tal'asan and those who had been outcast for their reverence to the old ways and to Venomagia had long existed for generations, but the High Priestess was not so certain. Noxtus didn't have the look of one of their kind to him, nor did he appear as one of the Ungarrans from the east.
"Perhaps. Bring him forward," the High Priestess instructed.
Once more spear tip was used to prod Noxtus forward towards the altar that the High Priestess stood upon with Venomagia. As he drew nearer, power prickled along his skin from the residual energy of the ritual sacrifices that had left the air charged with dark magic.
The stench of blood was thick in the air, and the stone steps before him where thick with smears of crimson blood where the bodies of the dead had been dragged from the altar.
"Name your purpose, lest you join our offerings," the High Priestess demanded.
Her eyes where intense as they studied Noxtus, but they did not betray her intentions for this stranger who now found himself in their midst.
A hiss of distaste and anger was drawn from the High Priestess as Noxtus was prodded into view with his spear. Now of all times was no time for error or mistake within the eyes of their god.
"What is the meaning of this?!" she hissed.
"He was found skulking in the shadows," the Tal'asan warrior explained. "A spy from Mintinca."
The blood rivalry between the Mintincan Tal'asan and those who had been outcast for their reverence to the old ways and to Venomagia had long existed for generations, but the High Priestess was not so certain. Noxtus didn't have the look of one of their kind to him, nor did he appear as one of the Ungarrans from the east.
"Perhaps. Bring him forward," the High Priestess instructed.
Once more spear tip was used to prod Noxtus forward towards the altar that the High Priestess stood upon with Venomagia. As he drew nearer, power prickled along his skin from the residual energy of the ritual sacrifices that had left the air charged with dark magic.
The stench of blood was thick in the air, and the stone steps before him where thick with smears of crimson blood where the bodies of the dead had been dragged from the altar.
"Name your purpose, lest you join our offerings," the High Priestess demanded.
Her eyes where intense as they studied Noxtus, but they did not betray her intentions for this stranger who now found himself in their midst.