Those planning on attending this short discourse and demonstration of the First Rite of Eorgina, please plan on meeting me no later than 8:50 PM Elven outside the North Gate of the Landing. I will be leading folks to our setting, the boulder in Aillidh Brae.

Those following, please pay close attention... we will likely get separated in the Vale at the thick bushes. Please KNEEL and CRAWL through them, then stand back up, head EAST, then NORTHEAST, and climb the BOULDER.

-Berkana

I just wanted to thank Berkana's player for organizing and leading us through this lovely night of ritual & storytelling, I had a great time! I will watch here for more upcoming opportunities to tag along for more!

-GK


Ysharra says, "One day, I'm going to have "What?" inscribed on your tombstone, with lots of helpful punctuation."

[Aillidh Brae, Boulder]
Though mostly bare, the granite boulder is splotched with mottled orange and red lichen. A natural hollow is centered on top of the rock, still damp from the remains of the last rainfall.
Obvious paths: none
>
Shiril just climbed up a large boulder.
>
Mistress Naamit just climbed up a large boulder.
>
You say, "Laggers..."
>
Ysharra just climbed up a large boulder.
>
Ysharra joins your group.
>
You ask, "Did we lose the lad?"
>
Ysharra asks, "Did we loose the other hathlyn?"
>
Naamit chuckles to herself.
>
Ysharra says, "He's close."
>
You tap your foot impatiently.
>
Kalnok just climbed up a large boulder.
>
You nod at Kalnok.
>
Ysharra smiles at Kalnok.
>
You say, "There is a slight chance of a late arrival or two, but we shall begin."
>
You take a pair of pewter-hued leather sandals calf-laced through small vaalin rings off your feet.
>
You put a pair of pewter-hued leather sandals calf-laced through small vaalin rings in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
You remove a cascading iridescent raven feather headdress spilling from a carcanet of scarlet despanals and black diamonds from in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
You put on a cascading iridescent raven feather headdress spilling from a carcanet of scarlet despanals and black diamonds.
>
(Berkana swipes some of the feathers out of her face.)
>
Shiril starts chuckling at you!
>
You say, "We'll begin with a short discourse on Eorgina and this rite..."
>
You say, "Sad to say, we will not be able to perform all aspects of it, as the Circle of the Grey Moon dissipated many years ago."
>
You say, "And there does not seem to be one coalesced grouping of Her worshippers this day."
>
Ysharra says, "I think we all can sympathize."
>
Ysharra sighs.
>
You agree with Ysharra.
>
You softly ask, "Perhaps this will interest and inspire others?"
>
Ysharra smiles at you.
>
You say, "Let's begin..."
>
You say, "Welcome to a short discourse this eve, on the First Rite of Eorgina, an appropriate night as we approach the premiere full moon of the year 5117."
>
You softly say, "Much of what I have to pass along was given to me by Elanthia's First High Priestess, Moriane saVere, who I had the pleasure to walk with briefly, and has since gone into seclusion, that she may better serve Eorgina."
>
You reflectively say, "The focus of Rites to Eorgina are not concerned with petty passages of death or life, but more one of realization and transcending. Often pain is incorporated, but merely as a tool. The same is true of physical pleasure, and the emotions that both of these bring with them."
>
You solemnly say, "They teach us how to see Her truths through new eyes. As we hone these skills -- become adept in the knowing of pain and pleasure and how to use them and their effects, we become both powerful and strong. But make no mistake, this is not for us to use for personal gain, we merely serve and obey Her at this time, until the day when all will be revealed."
>
You seriously say, "Nine is Her sacred number, as it is for all women, hence the number nine of annual rites of Eorgina -- though some of them are still very sacred ceremonies known only to the eldest of Her priestesses."
>
You seriously say, "Most important is the First Rite -- the Rite of Dedication, timed to start the cycle with the first full moon, and dedicated to the birth of all new female babes. It is also a welcoming for all young born since the last First Rite."
>
You pointedly say, "Typically, the initial step is for the High Priestesses to examine both male and female babies brought forward from the community, where the Unfit are separated out from the fit. Those deemed worthy are then further culled into Accepted Women and Selected Men."
>
You pointedly say, "The Accepted receive tutoring in Her ways, as well as the ways of both Lornon and Liabo pantheons. Rare among them are Chosen Ones who go on to serve our Queen in all Her wisdom. Fewer still survive both the rigorous training and the whims of our Lady, to become Her priestesses."
>
You pointedly say, "The most honored and revered position is that of First High Priestess, usually reserved for the oldest and most powerful woman favored by Eorgina. Typically, this is one that practices sorcery or wizardry, although a magic-practicing cleric could also rise up."
>
You tap yourself on the chest.
>
You amusedly say, "Dispelling the notion that Eorgina is a man-hater, is the appreciation She demonstrates for her Selected Men. Though only the most fit and hardy survive as Her servants, She has rewarded some of them completely, elevating them to High Priests."
>
You seriously say, "Another importance of the Rite of Dedication is in its determination of who will serve and how they will serve in the temple community, or the cult. This is symbolized by three -- another number favored by our Queen -- sacrifices performed."
>
You deliberately say, "First among them is the Unwilling, representing the control fate has upon our life paths. Usually, this is a vital and mature male of median age."
>
You deliberately say, "Next is the Willing, someone uneducated in the ways of the Arkati, and representing blind acceptance of faith. Typically a young female who chooses without coercion or influence to pledge her fealty to Eorgina."
>
You deliberately say, "And lastly, there is the Scholar, also a willing sacrifice equally unforced and without coercion. This offering is selected by an elder member of Her priestesses and bears great importance, as the choice is not made lightly. This decision carries the highest honors in the temple and community, and is based on learning and wisdom."
>
You deliberately say, "Finally at the First Rite -- the Rite of Dedication -- one babe from the Unfit is paired with each of the Accepted and Selected newborns, to serve as their slave until the age of maturity, when they are ritually slain by their masters. Shortly after the assignment, the Unfit are effectively neutered in an attempt to discourage intimate fraternization between the coupled union. A month-long holiday is arranged, during which the sacrifice of the Unfit occurs."
>
You lightly say, "And that closes this brief discussion on the First Rite of Eorgina."
>
Ysharra asks, "...we don't have any Unfit here, do we?"
>
You tentatively say, "During the next full moon, if there is interest, I would be willing to guide those who wish to to be initiated into Her service in a Ritual of Ascent. You may find me then, or before, to express your desire to do so."
>
Speaking to Ysharra, you say, "Debatable."
>
Ysharra smiles at you.
>
You inquisitively ask, "Any questions on the First Rite before I lead us in a blessing?"
>
(Berkana gazes around at the faces of the assembled.)
>
You ask, "No?"
>
Ysharra asks, "Is the Unfit abuse a test for the Selected and Accepted?"
>
You ask, "Abuse?"
>
Ysharra asks, "A lesson of tyranny?"
>
You peer quizzically at Ysharra.
>
Ysharra says, "They are slaves."
>
You say, "Ah."
>
You say, "It certainly could be easily that."
>
You nod at Ysharra.
>
You delicately touch your triple-chained collar, your fingers resting gracefully at the base of your throat.
>
(Ysharra nods briefly, clearly looking uncomfortable.)
>
You say, "Though, not all slaves are Unfit."
>
You chuckle.
>
You reverently say, "Believers of Eorgina and friends of those may remain. I ask the nonbelievers and skeptics to attend respectfully or leave us now before I intone the ritual."
>
You remove a heavy silver chalice inlaid with dark ruby stylized flames from in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
You run your finger around the rim of your chalice, slicing it open. Blood from the cut runs down the glass' heavy silver side and pools in the bottom...until slowly, the chalice begins to fill with deep crimson wine. The dark red liquid stops just short of the chalice's sharpened lip.
>
You remove an ancient ritualistic athame from in your black leather thighband.
>
(Berkana dips her athame into her chalice of blood and, pacing slowly on soft feet, traces three small, overlapping circles on the boulder.)
>
You put a heavy silver chalice inlaid with dark ruby stylized flames in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
You remove an abyss black ceremonial candle from in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
(Berkana carefully sets the black candle within the center of the first scribed circle.)
>
You carefully place your ceremonial candle on the ground.
>
You recite emphatically:

"This candle represents the sphere of Darkness!"
>
You remove a pure white ceremonial candle from in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
(Berkana reverently sets the white candle within the center of the second scribed circle.)
>
You carefully place your ceremonial candle on the ground.
>
You light the ceremonial candle, which flickers and begins to burn.
>
You recite piously:

"This candle represents the sphere of Domination!"
>
You remove a silvery grey ceremonial candle from in your silk ceremonial robe.
>
(Berkana gently sets the grey candle within the center of the third scribed circle.)
>
You carefully place your ceremonial candle on the ground.
>
You light the ceremonial candle, which flickers and begins to burn.
>
You recite jubilantly:

"This candle represents the sphere of Tyranny!"
>
(Berkana raises her athame towards the cresting moons above, and extends up her other open hand, in a welcoming embrace.)
>
The ceremonial candle burns warmly, lending a soft light to the surroundings.
>
You gaze up into the heavens.
>
You recite respectfully:

"Lornon Queen, liege of the Darkness,
Goddess of Domination and Tyranny,
Behold Your children this night,
As we honor You and Your spheres!"

>
You recite seriously:

"As the New Year is born, we are all reborn,
With new hopes and dreams.

Guide us today as You have in past days.
Assist us as we attempt to achieve our goals.
Teach us to be strong and powerful,
At Your feet we kneel in our quest for knowledge and fulfillment."

>
A small draft catches the flame of an abyss black ceremonial candle and it flickers brightly.
>
You recite serenely:

"Every beginning has an ending,
And every ending is a new beginning.
In Life is Death, and in Death is Life.

Tonight, we are joined together for fellowship and celebration.
Tonight, and throughout the coming year."

>
A bit of melted wax drips from a silvery grey ceremonial candle with a hiss. The flame jumps, burning high for a moment, then settles into a warm glow.
>
You recite excitedly:

"So may it be, blessed Queen!"

>
(Berkana lowers her arms and slides the athame into her thighband.)
>
You put an ancient ritualistic athame in your black leather thighband.
>
The ceremonial candle flickers softly, casting a warm light throughout the area.
>
An abyss black ceremonial candle burns with a warm golden light.
>
You say, "And thus, after this, there would have been the annointing and sacrificing of those mentioned."
>
A small draft catches the flame of a silvery grey ceremonial candle and it flickers brightly.
>
You ask, "Any comments or queries?"
>
A pure white ceremonial candle flickers a moment and nearly goes out, then its flame springs to life again, burning merrily.
>
A faint, flickering light emanates from an abyss black ceremonial candle, warming the area with its glow.
>
The ceremonial candle burns warmly, lending a soft light to the surroundings.
>
You gaze up into the sky and see a broad field of lights...
Twelve stars form a distinctly jagged, bright pattern high overhead in the skies. The vague outline of a six-fingered hand with curved talons is visible in the inky darkness of the night sky, each of its sharp tips formed by dark incarnadine stars.
>
You say, "How appropriate the Ur-Daemon constellation greets us this night."
>
A wisp of smoke rises from a pure white ceremonial candle as the hot wax drips and splutters.
>
You ask, "Any wish to tell Eorgina tales they might have? Or other Lornon-related stories?"
>
The ceremonial candle flickers softly, casting a warm light throughout the area.
>
The glow from a pure white ceremonial candle softly illuminates the shadows.
>
Shiril glances at you.
>
Ysharra asks, "Do you have one, Berkana?"
>
You say, "I have to admit, my favorite was when Bloodsnake communed... we told her not to."
>
A small draft catches the flame of an abyss black ceremonial candle and it flickers brightly.
>
Ysharra smiles at you.
>
Shiril starts chuckling at you!
>
A small draft catches the flame of a silvery grey ceremonial candle and it flickers brightly.
>
Kalnok asks, "Oh?"
>
You say, "We warned her she was doing so for a very petty reason."
>
You sigh.
>
Speaking to you, Shiril says, "She was not always very good at following wise advice."
>
You say, "And there we stood, watching her..."
>
You grin at Shiril.
>
You say, "No she was not."
>
You say, "And this thunderous voice echoed all around... called her Scale Child as I recall."
>
You say, "And then a pyre sprung up around her, toasting her to well done."
>
You nod once.
>
A pure white ceremonial candle burns with a warm golden light.
>
Naamit grins at you.
>
An abyss black ceremonial candle flickers a moment and nearly goes out, then its flame springs to life again, burning merrily.
>
Ysharra chuckles.
>
You say, "Good times."
>
You grin.
>
You lean on Shiril, giving her a companionable grin.
>
A silvery grey ceremonial candle burns with a warm golden light.
>
Kalnok chuckles.
>
Kalnok asks, "What did she want?"
>
You ask, "What did Bloodsnake want?"
>
The ceremonial candle burns warmly, lending a soft light to the surroundings.
>
You peer quizzically at Kalnok.
>
Kalnok nods to you.
>
Ysharra says, "I was curious, too."
>
Ysharra nods at Kalnok.
>
A wisp of smoke rises from an abyss black ceremonial candle as the hot wax drips and splutters.
>
A wisp of smoke rises from a silvery grey ceremonial candle as the hot wax drips and splutters.
>
You say, "She wanted to ask something on behalf of the Council of Gods. I cannot recall exactly, but do remember we spent near an hour trying to get her to not commune."
>
A pure white ceremonial candle flickers a moment and nearly goes out, then its flame springs to life again, burning merrily.
>
Kalnok chuckles.
>
You say, "It was petty, even though I cannot be specific."
>
A wisp of smoke rises from an abyss black ceremonial candle as the hot wax drips and splutters.
>
Ysharra nods to you.
>
A faint, flickering light emanates from a silvery grey ceremonial candle, warming the area with its glow.
>
You say, "Lumnis even warned us not to do so... said the knowledge we sought was within us all to find."
>
Ysharra says, "No one likes those kinds of answers."
>
Ysharra smiles.
>
You say, "Of course, she came to us as a wizened crone, not in her Arkati form."
>
A pure white ceremonial candle flickers a moment and nearly goes out, then its flame springs to life again, burning merrily.
>
You say, "Some did not see past the disguise."

And from this point on, it devolved into some Arkati experience tales.

~ Berkana