Gallery of Might. (Isle of Despair) [ruins] (v13496)
Archways rest at either end of this room, both decorated elaborately with spiral carvings from the
floor to the ceiling. The floor itself is covered in black marble, trails of jade carried throughout
it. The walls are plain stone though are polished to a bright sheen. Covering the walls are many
tapestries, each depicting scenes of wars and events throughout the ages of well-known figures
taking what they want. Beyond that, there is little other decoration as a reminder that might does
not require elaboration. A pool of blood spreads across the ground here. Ayuna is here. She wields a
blackened warhammer in her hands. Bulrok is here. He wields a massive halberd in his hands. Rebra is
here, hidden. Duskywing butterflies flit lazily around the form of Chakrasul, Goddess of Corruption
here.

Rebra gives Ayuna a small smile before she turns her head back to you, dipping it respectfully. Her
yellow eyes are curious as she gazes over what the rituals have wrought.

Rijetta lies in the middle of the floor, bleeding onto the stone. She struggles to
even lift her head, at this point, as she is little more than torn muscle and shredded skin, but she
forces a smile through shredded lips at Ayuna. "A.. cocoon. A little.. privacy.. to remake myself in
Her.. image."

As Chakrasul finishes reforming with Bulrok still in position to Her left and slightly behind Her,
She drags Her eyes over the gallery only to finish Her idle sweep on you. "The final step." She
breathes and a palpable excitement begins to roil off of the Goddess in waves.

Rebra continues to gaze at you, her hands now bare, nails bloodied. The expression upon her face is
one almost of longing. Her lips drift open, fangs gleaming ever so slightly as she waits.

Ayuna chitters quietly in arachnid tones as she skitters in place. Her eyes glow with an unnatural
hue as she moves over your tatttered body. Readying her spinneret, she moves in great details,
wrapping every pore of you, feet first, in a tight cocoon, flipping you over in each turn
intricately, yet lacking a delicate touch. Wrapping you shoulders tightly and covering you neck, she
allows you one last moment to take in breath before skittering around you several times so that not
even a hair remains. Looking at her handiwork in great detail, Ayuna skitters back, nodding once
more to Chakrasul with wizened eyes as she awaits quietly.

Dark feathers drag lazily behind Chakrasul as She steps towards the cocoon you is encased in and as
She kneels beside it, those dark and impressive wings splay away from the Goddess in a midnight-hued
pool. Gingerly, the Immortal places Her hand on the fine webbing and as She does, a verdant essence
begins to snake away from Her fingers to coil and intertwine with the morbid encasement. "The rest
is up to you-" The demure Divine ushers and the air sizzles and cracks around the Goddess as She
finishes with, "-Voice." The last word is Her motivation and with it, you feel the purity of
Corruption. For a second, you are Might with Her. For a second. A breath. A blink of an eye. You can
do... Anything.

Rebra throws back her shoulders, lifting her head as the sound of Chakrasul's words permeate the
area. Her eyes glitter as she stares at the cocoon in which you is encased, towards which the words
flow. Her face is a mask of wild longing.

The declaration of your new position isn't lost on Bulrok, but instead of any sort of jealousy, the
tiniest smile flits across his face for a moment. His grip flexes on his massive halberd, his eyes
watching you with a new found excitement.

Ayuna eases at the words, a great satisfaction in hearing such overcoming her as she watches
closely, urging you on silently.

Nothing happens for several moments, the cocoon lying still. Eventually, though,
Rijetta becomes visible through the cocoon, her thin frame a silhouette against the translucent
silk. It twitches in pain, in outright agony, and starts to curl up, bulging the cocoon where the
girl is curling herself into a ball to try and stave off the horrid pain. Soon, though, that body
starts to disappear, dissolving into primordial nothingness under the power of decaying, destructive
Corruption. The cocoon flattens out as Rijetta is fully dissolved, but as jade light starts to flash
from within, the construction of a -new- Rijetta becomes evident. Her body reforms, but already
looks inhuman: long fingers, fit to bear claws, strangely-proportioned arms and legs, and an odd
bulge where her back should be. Her head is differently shaped within the cocoon as the woman uses
the power granted to mold herself anew, and strange nubs sprout out, threatening to break through
the cocoon early, though the sturdy silk holds. Eventually, the flashing of jade light reaches a
peak, painting the room in shadows of green and black, but then fades out, leaving the cocoon opaque
once more. There are several moments of silence, then a rip appears in the silk, straight down the
middle of the cocoon. Rather than a person emerging, though, a monster does: first, massive
butterfly wings unfurl, shaking off the last of the transformative goop that had created them as
they reach their full, impressive wingspan. Rijetta follows her wings shortly, standing up from her
ball-curled position, still stark naked, but now cleansed of all but one scar: the massive
impalement scar on her chest, clearly important. The nubs on her head have matured into fully-
featured stag antlers, wrapped in fresh winter foliage, and her only eye is now a beautiful jade,
attempting to match but falling just short of the beauty of Chakrasul Herself. Her face is angular,
pointed, almost alien, and her body seems... too symmetrical, uncannily so. She turns to gaze upon
her audience, view.

Rebra turns her yellow eyes to take in your new form, all of it. Her gaze trails from the antlers,
to the angular form of you face, to the symmetry of her bare, fresh body, to the wings, the
butterfly wings that first unfurled, resplendent, from the cocoon. Suddenly shy, she dips her head
once more.

"Welcome the Voice of Corruption." Chakrasul croons as She rises to Her full, albeit tiny, height.
"Rise, Vafot wo Feyja." The kalsu is delivered on a snarl that is almost feral in nature and the
smile to match is firmly gracing the Immortal's lips. She stares at you and for once, you sense
pride in the Goddess. A curtain of feathers follow the demure Divine as She paces back to Her
Chosen, Bulrok and Rebra - yet Her departure is a familiar, wordless unravelling. Clusters of
duskywings cloud where Corruption stood and some of them flit away, some take a moment to alight on
you. In the end, all depart and Chakrasul is absent.

Ayuna tilts her head, taking in every small detail of the newly-formed you. Barely knowing she is
chittering, she studies you facial structure, body, and massive wings before falling on the scar at
you chest, remembering all too well her own lesson. A wicked smile crosses her lips, something of
approval and awe at this change. She nods at you, making detailed eye contact to show her support
and respect in every step of you journey, never waivering.