5/6 Spirit Forest Dev (With Eztli)

Eztli says, "... Kah..."

Eztli asks, "S'what's th'job?"

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "You will see."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Relatively simple."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Are you at all aware of the resteless spirits that Gehenna has had in the past few years?"

Eztli asks, "Heard 'bout it, yeah. What, y'gonna help em?"

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I'm going to fix it...yes."

Eztli says, "... S'been forever since last I was 'round 'ere."


Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Why is that?"

Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Never felt the urge to come back?"
Eztli sat on the guardrail, looking in the directon of town.
(Eztli)


Eztli says, "Kah... Hard t'go through th'Swamps now. Gonna fix that."

Eztli says, "... Also stuff's always busy in th'Hold."

Eztli says, "Been meanin' to come back. See my famiily an' stuff."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Do you wish to do so now?..."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "My ritual can wait."

Eztli says, "Nah, nah. S'fine."

Eztli says, "S'jus'... Weird t'be back."
Speaking of 'ritual', the Drakan is already evidently setting something up. She takes out a satchel of potent-smelling dried herbs as starts sprinkling them in a circle at the tower top's perimeter.

"Don't have any issues with drawing blood. Do you, Eztli?" she asks as she goes about making the protective circle for the matter at hand.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)

"Keh? I can do it."

He flashed his palm! It had a few scars running along it. "... Never drew much, but s'no worry t'me."

For the moment he stuck where he was, giving Ohtli space to set up the ritual. He's never actually seen one! So he didn't really know what he was in for.
(Eztli)

Ohtli glances over to his hand. She shakes her head and continues sprinkling the herbs about. Then, followed by the sprinkling of another circle, this time in oil. There's no telling what other tricks she has in that satchel of ritual-goods that's slung over her shoulder.

"Not your blood. I won't make you bleed for this. I meant mine. Can you hold the knife for it?"
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)

...

Well that was a bit more awkward.

But he could do it.

His brow furrowed a tad before Eztli gave a nod! "... Yeah. Jus'... Hand th'knife 'ere then. Tell me what t'do."
(Eztli)


Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Not just yet...A few more things..."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I won't risk this going awry."

Eztli says, "Well. Ready when you are. Jus' give th'word."
Ohtli nods along, spreading a secondary circle of fragrant oils inside the first circle of dried herbs. While the spirits are second nature to her, this is another matter. It's on another order of magnitude.

But if anyone has the gumption, the gall, and experience?...Well. It's probably her.

"Soon. I want to direct this properly. I'll warn you now not to be alarmed at what shows up."
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)


Eztli asks, "What, uh... What's supposed t'show up?"

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Spirits. "

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "...A lot of them."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "If I do this properly? Most of the restless ones that are currently residing in Gehenna."

Eztli says, "... S'not so bad. Dealt with those before... S'just gonna be like a bunch of people 'ere."

Eztli says, "..."

Eztli asks, "Right?"

Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "...Sort of?"

Eztli says, "..."

Eztli says, "Worst case, get t'see f'I can punch em."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Please. Do not do that."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "You might upset them."

Eztli says, "'Ay. I said worst case. F'I gotta do that they're probably already upset."

Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Fff....Fair."
Eztli shrugged!
(Eztli)

Ohtli can only shrug back to her plucky young guardian. Better to have someone to hold the knife for this one, as much as she doesn't like it.

The two concentric rings of oil and herbs are laid out carefully, with great purpose, and her expertise with wind magic keeps the drafts from atop the tower stirring them out of place. All is laid out carefully in to place. One last thing from her satchel...

It looks like a burnished, brass egg, all etched with patterns and designs. It goes right into the center, an honored place in the ritual circle. Just behind it crouches Ohtli as she begins rolling up her sleeves.

"Here," she calls to Eztli, offering up the worn stone ritual knife.

"If you cut between the scales, it is easier. I need a great deal of blood for this. Don't be afraid to cut deep. Alright?"
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)

...

As much as he hated the idea of hurting Ohtli...

This was important. He'd stamp on over, doing well to step over and around the preparations, taking up the knife and-...
...
"... Where should I do the cut?" he asked, tone going a bit quiet.
(Eztli)

Ohtli smiles thinly in the face of what is obviously going to be harm. He is willing to help, at least. In deed and not just word. She turns one of her forearms upward and points to the long line of scars that runs from elbow to wrist.

"There. On each arm. Cut quick and deep. Then we can have this done and go home, yes?" she offers.

"The spirits will be appeased, and the first step will be done."
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)

"Khh..."

He hushed up with another nod. Bracing himself as he took her first hand, lining his blade up with the scars as best he could.

"... Right... Here goes."

And that was all the warning she was gonna catch before he heeded her advice, slipping between the scales and doing his best to follow the scar as best he could.

If allowed, it'd be a clean, deep gash on her left arm, from elbow to wrist.

It hurt him to hurt her, she was practically his mother in everything but blood. Even then...

Well. His hands were red with it now.

Not wishing to drag this out, he'd move to take her opposite hand and once again following the scars, a second deep, clean cut. He'd step back, doing well to avoid the preparations and giving her room to do what she needed.
(Eztli)

It's a strange combination. On the one hand she is proud of Eztli. The young warrior does just as she asks, cutting into the meat of her arms between the scales where the old scar tissue is. Cutting herself on both arms to give the highest sacrifice would have been difficult otherwise.

On the other hand it hurts. A lot. Not that she isn't used to the pain, but now it's not on one but both arms. Thank the Serpent for long sleeves.

To Eztli's credit, he is efficient. He doesn't drag out the suffering with the trusty stone knife that's seen countless sacrifices in its long tenure. The Elder's blood flows fast and free. So much so that she starts to get lightheaded.

She can't afford to stop and give in to that feeling now. All her blood oozes over the ancient egg and a wind starts to stir atop the tower. The circles of dried herb and oils shift, but move in their boundaries.

Below, far below the tower, there's movement too. From far and wide across the tribal lands they start sluggishly arriving to the tower, to the beacon made of blood and will. The restless ancestors and fallen all start to arrive en masse and look up to the tower where the offering is made.

For many other sacrifices her voice has boomed out, a call to the Spirits, to Quetzalcoatl, to Ryuujin. This time she is quiet; this time it is almost a plea. Her head is bent low.

"I am sorry...I am sorry you have gone untended for so long. That the people all over this continent have lost their way...I want to make a better place. For all of you. A place of rest and peace. I cannot do it alone...I need help. So I humbly ask you...please..."

The words are quiet, but they don't have to be loud to be heard by the restless, stirring throng of spirits below. Several of the specters begin to scale the tower's exterior. Spirits of all kinds, from all walks of Gehennan life- young and old, warriors and common folk, men and women, begin climbing up the stone crevices.

When they reach the barrier of oils and flowers they pass through it, invited in by the shaman's pleas.

One by one they stoop down to touch the offering of blood, taking a portion of it into themselves. Then they reach out and touch the egg and impart their own essence to it before vanishing into wisps of vapor.

It's a jarring sight, seeing these ghosts swarm up and over the watchtower's crenellations, but none of them come in harm. Each of them stoops to partake of the sacrifice, some offer their essence to the egg in the center which begins to glow with an aura of powder-blue, but all eventually fade into mist.

When the last one takes its fill of the few remaining drops of blood and makes its leave, all grows quiet. No more apparitions stir in the yard below and even the wind has gone still.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)

Did he go too far on that..? She seemed out of it...
...
Something moved behind him, Eztli turning to face...
. . .
Holy damn that's a lot of Ghosts. But Ohtli told him not to worry...
...
S'still a lot of Ghosts. He braced himself, in case something nasty happened. Slowly, surely, he dropped his guard. Watching in silent awe as spirit after spirit climbed up and vanished.

He'd stay at Ohtlis side, waiting for whatever was to come next.
(Eztli)

'Out of it' is accurate. She lies there crouched beside the egg. No more blood is left on the ground but her arms are still sliced and bare. The Elder doesn't move. Breathing, if shallow, is a sure sign that she's alive.

"That was...that was good work, Ez. Thank you..."
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)