woooo malm prayer

A small, fog-filled alcove.
The narrow path from the centre of the cavern opens up into a small, claustrophobic cavern. Fog hangs heavy here, flowing away from the far southeast like a waterfall's sigh and misting the skin in a gentle caress. A permanent fixture, the pleasant smell of petrichor rises from the stone and grows stronger, to the point of being cloying, as the distant corners of this cavern are approached. Set into the southeast corner, an archway emerges from the stone as though being excavated. Muginn, the ghost-feathered magpie perches here with a mischievous glint in his eye.
You see exits leading west, northwest, and through a half-buried archway.
Pulses of divine energy radiate throughout the cavern, bathing the area in warmth.

You think to yourself: ... It does smell like rain. And Hiresh did say that She knew your... sharder? What even is the word...

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

Steeling yourself, you pass through the fog and into the darkness underneath the archway. No sooner have you been engulfed in the same lightless void than are you assaulted by pain lancing through every fibre of your being. Each step weighs a thousand pounds, each breath forced through a pinpoint covering as you laboriously continue to step forward; some self-preservation instinct in you refusing to still within this plane of torment. Black blood weeps from your pores, staining you as you are subjected to memories of unbelievable torture, cut open a thousand times and more before the cold sweat on your brow is chilled by a strong wind. Opening eyes you did not realise you had closed, you find yourself standing on a white marble walkway on a vast dark ocean that tumbles away in a grand waterfall.

The Fulcrux of Malmydia.
A comforting feeling of privacy pervades the area. A dark grey sky looms overhead, thick with blackened clouds pregnant with the tell-tale tension of a storm waiting to break. Stretching out into the far distance, an ocean of dark water surges ever forward - racing towards a nearby precipice before thundering off in a deafening roar and shooting mist and fog skywards. The only place safe from the current is an orderly pathway of white stone that emerges from an enormous red archway which sprouts from the water and winds its way to a large, circular platform. Perfectly circular, the wide marble holds a raised dais, upon which the noise of the falls is muffled and not even a drop of water dares to fall. Looming out well beyond the point where the water falls, the edge of the dais offers no succor to the tension of the storm, and gives view to a sea of fog and mist that extends beyond visibility and blankets whatever may hide beneath from sight. Nothing but dark ocean can be seen through the twin spires of an enormous red archway, its terraced roof trailing small strips of silk that flutter restlessly. Sprouting from the middle of the dais, jagged bones pierce upwards in an attempt to meet a floating sphere of dark, churning blood. Paper petals clustered together much like a crown, a poisonous hemlock blossom emits a false promise of death. Coiled in a convincing imitation of a real snake, a black and silver snake belt lies here.
You see a single exit leading through an enormous red arch.

You have emoted: Cheliyi blinks tears out of her eyes, looks deeply surprised and a little shaken. Her tail sweeps back and forth in slow motions, and once her breathing steadies, she glances around curiously.

Muginn ruffles his feathers, stirring up puffs of fog.
You think to yourself: ... an ocean. So loud.

You have emoted: Cheliyi walks along the walkway, her bare feet hitting the marble as she gets closer to the main platform. She pauses again, glancing askance at the master shrine of Malmydia.

---> look shrine

Spires of bone emerge seamlessly from the marble here, spurred with jagged barbs that gleam with dark carmine beads at their tips. Stains of dried brown and shadowed crimson streak up in layers upon layers of colour, winding ever higher in veinlike patterns along the osseous spires. At the very peak, droplets can be seen floating upwards, joining in with a roiling mass of blood that hangs in a perfect sphere, only occasionally disrupted by a surge of movement within before settling once more. The space surrounding the shrine is saturated with an uncontained sense of malice and disdain, hanging heavier than the fog in the dais beyond and more crushing than the force of the water which falls far, far below.

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 14th of Shanthin, 615 years after the Coming of Estarra.

You think to yourself: ... strangely familiar, and yet very, *very* different.

Echoed by rippling waters, you murmur, "Good evenings, yes."
You incline your head politely to the master shrine of Malmydia.
You purse your lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as you carefully gather your thoughts.

You think to yourself: ... Would She like food? Better to ask first, this time.

In the darkness of the evening, the fog which ever dances in your surroundings billows like the strange, sinuous dance of some grand serpentine monster: the lack of starlight above only worsening the picture which develops in your mind's eye.


You have emoted: Cheliyi shifts uncomfortably, glancing up at the starless sky.

You think to yourself: Come on nows. You've got Fortitudes, and calm.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

Foam briefly caps the water of the ocean as it rushes towards the precipice, spurred into activity and anger by the cold winds which yet await the storm's breaking.

The rumbling of the waterfall grows seems to fade away as you gaze into the distance, your senses briefly lost to you in the haze of fog which fills the air beyond the precipice.

Kneeling humbly, you press your palms together before you and close your eyes momentarily as you pray devoutly to Malmydia, the Chiurgeon, "Hi hello, Lady Malmydia. I am Cheliyi, and I am a mugwump. Did learn about Your arrival to the Basin a few months ago, and later learned that You knew the Person who sharded into me. Am sorry if it is a painful memory. But I have always been curious about Mugowumpois's history, Her past, yes. Do you have any memories of Her You want written down? Anything You would want Her shards to know? Am deeply curious, and if could help, would be deeply gratefuls, yes. I hope Your transitions to staying in the Basins is comfortable, and enjoyable for You, yes. Many thanks for listening, even though I am not one of Yours.".

You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

You have emoted: Cheliyi rubs at the bandages lining her forearms, glancing across the oceans with a politely neutral expression.

In the darkness of the evening, the fog which ever dances in your surroundings billows like the strange, sinuous dance of some grand serpentine monster: the lack of starlight above only worsening the picture which develops in your mind's eye.

You glance askance at a glass ampoule of bottled starlight.

Pale gold in hue, the wreath about your brow shimmers in a steady pattern, like unto a heartbeat in its gentle pulsation, crowning you in a flickering halo before settling still once more.

You have emoted: Cheliyi sighs softly, and inclines her head politely before walking away.

You turn and begin walking along the path, and as you pass beneath the archway you find yourself alone in a vast field of darkness. Pain lances through every nerve in your body and you find yourself stumbling forward, beleaguered by phantasmal visions of black blood dripping from your pores as you are assaulted again, and again, and again whilst memories that do not belong to you flash through your mind of unspeakable torture. As suddenly as the agony began, it ends, and you find yourself in a cold sweat as you stand in a blissfully cool cave, your skin misted by thick fog as your stumbling steps lead you away from the nearby archway.
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------ 1:-1:-4 ------
A small, fog-filled alcove.
The narrow path from the centre of the cavern opens up into a small, claustrophobic cavern. Fog hangs heavy here, flowing away from the far southeast like a waterfall's sigh and misting the skin in a gentle caress. A permanent fixture, the pleasant smell of petrichor rises from the stone and grows stronger, to the point of being cloying, as the distant corners of this cavern are approached. Set into the southeast corner, an archway emerges from the stone as though being excavated.
You see exits leading west, northwest, and through a half-buried archway.
You have recovered balance on all limbs.

You shudder violently as a chill ripples down your spine.
You mutter discontentedly.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.
Echoed by rippling waters, you say, "That is... a painful portal."

You snap your fingers and warm water showers down upon yourself, and you scrub under your armpits until you are squeaky clean.
You have recovered equilibrium.

Gently pressing three fingers to your brow, then drawing them to rest upon your heart, you intone, "As above, so below." As the words leave your lips, a bright aura suffuses you with a calm, soothing white light that fills you with a sense of inner peace.

You shake your head.