[6/28] Big Sacrifice for Shard Tree thing [SF Dev]

[21:40] While the others begin tamely clearing some of the extraneous growth, Ohtli starts taking her belongings from her hefty ritual satchel (tm). She takes a large canister of blue greasepaint, turns to Eztli, and starts decorating his face.

"Ah...hold still, hm?"
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[21:41] The Gehennan blinked. It wasn't often he got his face painted. As requested, however he held still.

"... S'what's the paint for?"
(Eztli)
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[21:41] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Hm?..."
[21:41] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "To honor the spirits, of course."
[21:41] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "That's why it's blue."
[21:41] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "...Also I like blue. Now hold still."
[21:41] Eztli says, "I -AM- holdin' still."
[21:41] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "-More- still. Spirits."
[21:41] Sugarboy says, "Blue is a damn good color, if I do say so myself~"
[21:42] Tototl says, "Hold your breath."
[21:42] Arlei Therus asks, "Will the, uh, presence of an Oscuri disrupt the ritual?"
[21:42] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "...I am unsure. Why?"
[21:42] Tototl slowly turns his head towards Arlei.
(Tototl)
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[21:42] Arlei Therus says, "My Lord could be appearing at literally any time. I'll. . tell him to wait behind a tree."
[21:42] Ohtli finishes drawing some swirls and zig-zags on Eztli's cheeks.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[21:42] Arlei Therus says, "A little bit away."
[21:42] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Right. Who's next?"
[21:43] Sugarboy exclaims, "Me!"
[21:43] Arlei Therus says, "Relax, Chieftain Tototl. You've my guarantee that he's harmless."
[21:43] Sugarboy removes his hate and sunglasses as he eagerly skips into line.
(Sugarboy)
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[21:44] Well now he felt silly.

Blue swirls and zig zags on his face, Eztly crossed his arms and leaned against the tower. Frowning at nothing in particular.

"... Gah..."
(Eztli)
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[21:44] Ohtli comes up to Sugarboy and does the same, dipping her claw tips in the paint and drawing designs and whorls on his forehead, nose, and cheeks. Gehennan style.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[21:46] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Tototl. I can do yours also...Unless you'd rather do your own?"
[21:46] Tototl says, "... I wouldn't mind, truthfully."
[21:47] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Wouldn't mind which?"
[21:47] The eager old man would be able to hold still well enough, his heart rate even slowing as he becomes almost statuesque. Conjuring some water to spy his reflection, he'd smile widely, "Hey, this is a pretty good look- and the paint compliments my deep blue eyes~" With a chuckle, he'd move over to start forming a circle or something?
(Sugarboy)
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[21:47] Arlei watches Inari shoot off down south, at a good safe distance. Yeah, probably a good thing currently.
(Arlei Therus)
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[21:47] Tototl scratches the back of his head carefully as to not mess with his ponytail.
(Tototl)
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[21:47] Tototl says, "Ah... You doing the marks for me."
[21:47] Ohtli only smiles warmly at the Chieftain, nodding. A fresh dab of paint on her clawtips and she smears, carefully, the designs onto her former pupil's face. Whorls, zig-zags like teeth, and curves along his temples.

"And you, Arlei?"
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[21:48] Arlei nodded towards Lady Ohtli.

"Honestly, I have no idea how to do it myself. I would appreciate it if you did it for me."
(Arlei Therus)
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[21:48] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Naturally."
[21:48] Eztli says, "..."
[21:48] Eztli says, "S'one of you."
[21:48] Kabu says, "I lost Saba."
[21:48] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Ah, Kabu. You are here."
[21:48] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I'm sure he can find his way."
[21:48] Eztli says, "Yeah, I see that."
[21:48] Tototl remains as still as a tree - He'd been used to such treatment all things considered. Tired hues shift about, quietly running over his adornments. Spirits he was a walking mess, wasn't he?
(Tototl)
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[21:49] Arlei Therus asks, "Inari, if you see Ascie, can you tell him to stay behind the trees for a bit?"
[21:50] Arlei Therus says, "Just until this is over."
[21:52] Next comes Arlei. Another big glob of grease paint on her claws and, with practiced strokes, she decorates her fellow Drakan's face in stripes and curling swoops of cerulean. No two ritualists have the same designs, but each is a tribute to the spirits at large.

Ohtli, for her credit, is pleased so far.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[21:53] Arlei refrained from squinting as the grease paint was applied upon her face by Ohtli. She didn't particularly enjoy the feeling after all, there was a reason she never wore makeup.

After the old Drakanite was finished though, she honestly didn't feel it. She adapted pretty quickly to bizarre, new situations and feelings.
(Arlei Therus)
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[21:54] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Ah. Declan."
[21:54] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Here to join us?"
[21:54] Declan says, "Yes."
[21:54] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Excellent...I'm painting faces. A moment."
[21:54] Sugarboy says, "Then we'll give blood~ "
[21:55] Sugarboy says, "I don't advise giving more than thirty percent of your bodies total amount- or it'll be real bad"
[21:55] Saba says, "Give fifty percent of it? Very well."
[21:55] Sugarboy says, "And I won't be in much of a state to help ya. "
[21:55] Saba says, "I'm no coward."
[21:55] Arlei Therus says, "I'm staying at a safe twenty. Navigating those caves whilst dizzy won't be a good idea."
[21:55] Arlei Therus says, "Not with. . recent occurences. "
[21:55] As the one leading the ritual, it only feels fitting too that she be the one to apply the paints. Saba is next in line. Another glob of blue grease, more lines and patterns.

...But she stops, staring into his face for a moment. Something is oddly familiar, but she can't place it. A matter for another time.

"Tsk...Hold still," she chides while finishing his face markings. He doesn't get a choice to apply his own, apparently. That's gone right out the window.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[21:55] Kabu says, "I was not told what any of this was for. But if we're giving a tribute, then so be it."
[21:55] Sugarboy says, "Twenty for Arlei, /thirty/ for Saba"
[21:56] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "A tribute to the growth of the forest, Kabu."
[21:56] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "If you are offering blood, it is only fair you know why."
[21:56] Kabu says, "A worthy harvest."
[21:57] Eztli says, "Eh. Twenty... Thirty. However much y'need go nuts, Ohtli. Ain't like I'm goin' far after th'fact. I've probably had worse."
[21:57] x

x




(Declan)
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[21:58] Eztli says, "... Probably."
[21:58] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "You give as much as you are comfortable with."
[21:58] Arlei Therus says, "Y'know, if I've got Inari here to guide me, I reckon I can spare twenty five."
[21:59] Eztli asks, "... How d'you even know what twenty percent'a'blood looks like?"
[21:59] "Well clearly someone has to make up for Arlei's twenty percent, so I'll go for a potent forty percent!" A small chuckle escaped from his lips. Well for a moment anyways, until bird mom started to pain his face!

At that point he remained mostly silent, though he did tilt his head to the side for a moment as Ohtli stops her painting to stare at him. Did he have something on his face? Oh... Wait, yea he had paint on it.

Upon Ohtli's request to hold still he'd pause his head tilting as the old bird finished her handy work.
(Saba)
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[21:59] Saba says, "No fear."
[21:59] Arlei sighed and went to pinch the bridge of her nose, before remembering the grease paint and ceasing.

Did this man believe it was a competition?
(Arlei Therus)
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[21:59] Sugarboy says, "The strain on your circulatory system would be too great, we're running a risk even giving thirty. "
[21:59] Saba says, "Bah."
[21:59] Arlei Therus says, "Mm, I believe with Inari to guide me back, I'll be able to spare twenty five."
[21:59] Sugarboy says, "Doctor's orders "
[22:00] Sugarboy says, "I'm not taking care of your ass when we all pass out. "
[22:00] Saba says, "Yea, yea, yea."
[22:00] Saba says, "I was mostly joking anyways."
[22:00] "Yes, please...I am grateful for each of you here to give, but there is no need to strain yourselves without need," she explains, moving onto Kabu next with a fresh, greasy wad of paint.

Harsh lines on his cheeks, like the fangs of Ixchel.

"...Hm. Kabu. Who was your father?" she asks offhandedly, painting more stripes up his temples with care to avoid his wiry hair.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:05] Allowing himself to be coated by the greasy paint his senses would pick up a spare whiff here and there, though at her question the man would find himself feeling a simple sense of ponderance, he'd asked himself of his own lineage before but only his elder brother came to mind when he delved that deeply, giving a simple response.

"I do not know who I spawned from, mother, or father.

I simply know of my brother, and that I parted with him during a wildfire and came to Tecotchitlan, Spiritbearer."
(Kabu)
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[22:05] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "...You remind me a little of someone I knew once. A discussion for another time, maybe."
[22:06] Ohtli has applied paint to all but herself, but she stands there with the canister and her sights turn to Emily.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:06] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Is there something you need, miss Bell?"
[22:06] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Declan. Come here, hm?"
[22:06] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "You need to be painted."
[22:06] Emily Bell says, "Nope, was here before I had to go take care of my daughter. Came back to finish my talk with Arlei."
[22:07] Arlei Therus says, "He can resume after the ritual. I may be a little shakey."
[22:07] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "If you could wait in Leven perhaps, please? We are going to begin shortly."
[22:08] Emily Bell says, "Hm very well. Please take care."
[22:08] Arlei Therus says, "Y'could take Inari."
[22:08] Saba says, "Spirits protect."
[22:08] Arlei Therus says, "Spirits protect."
[22:11] Alright. Declan's turn. Ohtli takes more of the goopy paint on her claws and begins streaking it over the Sarradian's skin. Swirls of azure for his cheeks like desert winds.

"Ssilb auy," she says with a nod. Her foreign language skills might be a little rusty...but she tries.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:12] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Right. I think we are only missing...Artaghh. But at this rate, perhaps we should continue?"
[22:12] Eztli says, "'E probably fell asleep."
[22:12] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "It may be the case. I don't imagine his job is easy."
[22:12] Sugarboy says, "I think we have plenty of people~"
[22:13] Tototl flashes a smile at Ohtli's attempt. Spot on.
(Tototl)
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[22:13] Declan pats Ohtli's shoulder as if they were 5.
(Declan)
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[22:13] Arlei raises her finger to say something about Artaghh's job, but quickly lowers it. She didn't have the heart to tell everyone that he was a lazy good-for-nothing farmer.
(Arlei Therus)
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[22:14] Eztli knew full well that Artaghh was a lazy good-for-nothing Lamppost Watchman.
(Eztli)
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[22:14] Ohtli misses her Sarradian-daughter-in-law...
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:14] Ohtli Tezcacoatl asks, "Anyhow...Then yes. Let's form up in the circle around the central tree, please?"
[22:16] Eztli gave a nod! Pushing off the tower and marching towards Ohtli, taking a place beside her as he removed the upper half of his uniform. It sounds like blood was about to happen. Blood and white clothes was a bad time.

He folded the shirt and set it aside. Crossing his arms across his chest as he braced himself.


(Eztli)
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[22:17] Arlei nods, taking her steps towards the tree. She planted herself in place, equidistant betwixt the other participants of the ritual.

Arlei took a deep breath and centred herself, discarding unnecessary thoughts from her mind as she was taught to by Freya Vishkar. Inwardly, she visualised her mana circuits, watching the volatile flow of energy and slowly doing what she could to calm it.
(Arlei Therus)
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[22:18] Saba gives Ohtli a thumbs up, and a nod, as he makes his way towards the central tree. Where he'd stand next to his two close friends, Declan, and Kabu. Green eyes darted around the horrible circle that had formed, as a small sigh escapes from his lips.

Spirits they were bad at making circles.

Green eyes then rested on Ohtli, as he silently waited for the old bird to continue.
(Saba)
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[22:20] A Spirit Forest... How quaint, if only he had more willing people to join him on his own. Honestly it was more so an issue that he didn't get up out of bed at times. Mythril greaves step forth towards the central tree.

Tototl reaches into his cloak, withdrawing his trusty steel ritual dagger into his left hand. Spirits, to think he had held onto this for thirty-three years among Agartha's soils. It humbled him to a degree, reminded him of the road he'd taken here.

Brown hues cast a glance towards the ring among that same hand. Its gem sparkled brilliantly under the morning's light, the channels of his mana outlined in cyan about that digit. Perhaps it'd do its fair share of the purpose here today.
(Tototl)
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[22:21] As Ohtli asked them to gather around the tree, he would stand between her and Arlei. He was incredibly thankful for the lesson on spirits he had just a few hours ago from her, for now he was able to understand the importance of the value of a sacrifice.

She had said blood was a common form of payment, but what was a more important factor was how much you valued your offering- to Sugarboy, his blood was so much more than just a liquid that pumped through his veins, it was how he defended himself, how he helped others.

A quiet nod given to the Shaman as he waits for her to begin, he would reach behind him, pulling a small curved knife tucked away on his belt, a ring wrapping around his finger. He was ready to make his offering once given the signal.
(Sugarboy)
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[22:21] Kabu nods, moving to the tree in question and taking his spot about it.

He removes his cloak and tosses it to the winds for now as a cloud of static flies beneath it and has it levitate a small ways behind him. He patiently awaits what's to come here as he has his gaze go between each of the people taking part in this sacrifice.

The Nagual would give as much blood as he needed to feel content with his part in all of the proceeds though he was curious as to what, or why this had been assembled now of all times.

How curious....

Anticipation carried him further than usual, but he suspended it mildly. Curiousity killed the cat after all.
(Kabu)
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[22:27] The Drakan smears several broad, less intricate stripes on her cheeks, preparing to step into the circle...UNTIL???
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:28] Ser Artaghh paces up with a tired smile and a mild limp as he paces forth through the spirit forest, waving idly at the old drakan as he made his way towards the assembled circle. He appeared to be shirtless, though the blood dripping heavily down his back appeared to imply this was not entirely a voluntary decision.

"Nice place ye' go' here."
(Artaghh)
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[22:28] Seeing as Eztli and Kabu doffed their armor and clothing, atleast from the belt up, Sugarboy would shrug and follow the flow. Undoing the clasps of his armor and letting the mithril fall to the grass he would remove his shirt.

Now, Sugarboy may not have been known for his fighting, but the scars he carried certainly told a story. On his neck would be a metal plate, white scars sparling from underneath like a web. Across his chest and down his torso would be a very large and straight T shapped scar, as if he were cut open and gutted like a frog.

Along his arms would be purple, petal like burns. Clearly put there by a shadowflame occultist with a penchant for pretty things. Proud, he would stand, ready to slice his hand- BUT NOT BEFORE GIVING A BIG OL WAVE TO HIS DRINKING BUDDY!!

"Artaghh! Glad ya could make it!"
(Sugarboy)
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[22:29] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "-...Sweet Spirits, you look -awful-."
[22:30] Eztli offered Artaghh a glance! Opening his mouth to insult the guy, then deciding to do something else. Amusement going to concern.

"Th'hell happened t'you?"
(Eztli)
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[22:30] Saba glances at his father, Sugarboy, Kabu, Declan, and then finally Eztli… It seems as if everyone was removing their shirts. Oh well, might as well join them!

So with a smile on his face, he'd simply toss off his a Nyeshk Chestplate, and hi fancy cape, as he too joined the shirtless goons.
(Saba)
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[22:30] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I...I suppose you're ready to give blood at least..."
[22:30] Saba says, "Aye at least there's that..."
[22:30] Artaghh says, "Ye' know me. Real thoughtful."
[22:31] Tototl says, "... Well at least he's already giving some. Evening."
[22:31] Ohtli is not going shirtless, but does remove her cloak. That's as much as you damn kids are getting...
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:31] Tototl eyes everyone as they get shirtless. Spirits... Were they really doing this?
(Tototl)
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[22:32] Arlei raised an eyebrow at her paladin's entry, though she did take good notice of the blood specs dripping down his back.

"Ah, hello, Ser Artaghh. I, uh, see you started. . early?" she asked, a confused expression painting her visage.

Did he try and brawl with the Kaor in Dawn's caves? It seemed like an Artaghh thing to do.

Regardless, she removed her coat and her armor, leaving her in a black sports bra. She didn't exactly have much to hide, though her toned stomach was laced with old scar tissue.

She was prepared.
(Arlei Therus)
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[22:33] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "I take it everyone is prepared then?..."
[22:33] Eztli gave a silent nod.
(Eztli)
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[22:33] Arlei Therus says, "Indeed, Lady Ohtli."
[22:33] Declan says, "Yep."
[22:33] Kabu says, "Mhn."
[22:33] Declan says, "Let's be emo for-"
[22:33] Sugarboy says, "Aye"
[22:33] Declan says, "Sad for-"
[22:33] Declan asks, "Give blood to the blood god?"
[22:33] Artaghh asks, "I dunnae think I'm gonna stop bleedin' any time soon, so sure?"
[22:34] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "..."
[22:34] Ohtli Tezcacoatl says, "Well, then let's begin."
[22:39] Ohtli stays fully clothed, barring the cloak. No one wants to see that, even if Order magic keeps her looking fairly...well, less saggy. She reaches to her hip where her trusty knife and a burlap wrapped parcel lie.

In the center of the circle was the young tree, bathed in the powdery blue light from above that kept it thinly tethered to the realm beyond, that allowed the ghosts to walk through the woods as they did. From that tree juts many roots, which pass through the drawn circle in the grass they stand upon.

The Elder, leading the ritual, unwraps the simple package. What is within is in stark contrast to its covering. A mask in arcanium, a glimmering gem set into its forehead. A few here have seen it before, a relic kept zealously guarded.

She dons the mask and its slides into place, firmly attaching to her face. Her wings stretch and scales spread up her arms to the sides of her neck and cheeks like kudzu vines, growing under the paint. If anyone thought herclaws and teeth could get no more sharper than they are? They're dead wrong.

It's probably a signal for the ritual's beginning as she forgoes her knife completely and utterly. Instead she scrapes a long line down the interior of her arm with her talons, drawing fresh gouts of blood with little care for her own personal livelihood. The Elder, changed, allows the roots to drink deeply.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[22:41] Declan pulls out a simple blade, stabbing It into the wrist away from the veins and goes down ever so little. Slowly, te blood came out on to the ground and the constant flow seems to happen.

(Declan)
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[22:45] Ser Artaghh's scourged back already dripped heavy amounts of his life ichor into the grass, a token of his recent, pleasant endeavor with this group's mutual affiliate and dear friend Ashalle. Yet, the knight of the Green Hill was not squeamish, and would give all he had and more if it aided his beloved bird mother in her ritual. Drawing his black blade steadily from its sheathe, still sticky with the sheen of the sin's blood after her unnatural recovery.

The mithril paladin would swiftly wipe the ichorous remnants from his blade, not wanting to catch some kind of disease from the sin before pressing his left palm forcefully against the greatsword's tip, piercing his palm as even more blood began to flow before the knight would hold his hand over the gathering for the ritual. He'd give Ohtli all he had.
(Artaghh)
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[22:46] Tototl's eyes drift towards Ohtli as she dons her mask. He'd wrestle with his own thoughts on perhaps taking up his own, but... Well, his wasn't fitting for this ritual. No reika-leaking jackal would be looked well upon by the Spirits.

He instead elects to do the same upon his unscarred arm. Rolling up his left sleeve he'd switch the knife to his right, promptly dragging the familiar weapon along the war-scarred skin. With his forearm gashed he'd hold it above the roots.

It doesn't stop there, however, as he begins forcing his mana out alongside it. This takes a fair bit of concentration, sure, but he's all the more used to its process. To those that would look towards his left hand they'd easily see the gem upon his ring glow all the brighter, cyan erupting from its center.

Those attuned to the ethereal-plane can easily feel its ties to the ritual at hand.
(Tototl)
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[22:46] Some of us don't have claws. Or even fangs. How lame.

Eztli had to settle on a tried and true method of bloodletting, taking his Ritual knife from his hip and lining it up against old scars that lined his forearms, less pronounced than the ones Ohtli wore, but there regardless. Somebody had been busy while he was away.

In a deft motion he drew a line down one arm, hardly wasting time as he swapped the knife between hands and did the same to his opposite arm. Doing his best to hide the pang of pain that shot through the both of his arms, his tanned skin being overwhelmed with crimson in seconds.

"Khh..."

With a pained hiss, he simply stretched out his arms, letting his lifeblood hit the roots below. Some part of him was still wondering just what 25% of his blood looked like...

Well. Bound to find out sooner or later.
(Eztli)
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[22:47] Following the actions of Ohtli as she became much more in tune to her drakan roots to feed the forest with her still vigorous ichor the nagual simply gives a nod as his golden gaze glows eerily in the shade of the forest.

Taking his hand he'd clench it in a claw-like formation as it's nails sharpened and the entire limb appeared much more feral from his usual state.

Swiping swiftly at his other palm, the blood would pool in his hand and then spill over the sides of it as he balled it into a fist holding it out horizontally from his person to quench the thirst these roots felt they needed to grow strong, and numerous.

He showed no indication of the pain, and simply powered through.

Such festivities weren't very strange to Kabu being a Gehennan, he'd engaged in many different rituals of the sort as his brother had been a worshiper of more than just Ixchel when teaching him of the various deities that watched over the tribes.

He'd allow his blood to flow for quite some time, giving a firm squeeze to allow it to run a bit more swiftly into the brush and using his ties to holy magic he'd keep the pain minimal as he began to softly glow and crackle with sparks.
(Kabu)
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[22:48] I guess that's the signal.

Without a moment of hesitation, the small curved blade would slice across his hand, a clean cut showing it's sharpness- yeah okay, it was his surgery knife. Atleast the clean cut facilitated an easier healing process.

Turning his hand palm down, he would use his magic over the crimson liquid to pool out his share. However, his offering wouldn't be blood alone, no, as he had also learned mana was a suitable offering as well.

Both were important to him, as he was willing to leave himself in a weakened state, despite how busy he knew he could be, it was the length he was willing to go as he believed in Ohtli and what she was doing here.

Red ichor spilling into the grass, it would begin snaking cross the ground, everyone's offering mixing together as a ring formed around the tree, a serpents head at one end with wings sprawling out periodically.

Would it help with the ritual? He was unsure, butatleast it would look a lot nicer. He could feel himself getting lightheaded, 15%, a little more and a sense of panic would settle as he felt his heart rate increase as his veins became more and more emptied. Though as a doctor, he knew it was his bodies natural response.

He'd keep giving, 28, 29, and 30%. And with that he'd cease the flow, most of his mana exhausted as he offered that as well. He'd have a small sway as he stood, but he would turn to Ohtli, ready to see what she'd do next.
(Sugarboy)
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[22:50] Arlei's eyes scan over the people who had assembled for the ritual, most shirtless at this point. It was probably unnecessary, but it didn't hurt to be mindful of stains and the like. Luckily she still had some medical gauze in her jackets pocket, given to her by Locran many moons ago.

Her eyes glanced over towards the spiritual sapling planted smack bang in the centre of the circle, its roots trailing and curling through the dirt and the circle itself. She felt a sense of calm from it. Peaceful and warm, though she could not put her finger on why.

The mask that Lady Ohtli had removed though. It was stunning, and rather intimidating, the gem set in the centre shimmering in the dimming sunlight. It was a beautiful piece of art, one that she could not remember seeing in the past; perhaps she kept it hidden for purposes such as exactly this.

As Ohtli began to scrape down her arm, as did Arlei, using her talons to open up her left arm in tandem with the ageing Drakanite. It was a painful experience for sure, but she weathered through it; she'd been through far worse. As her blood leaked from her body, dripping into the circle, her breathing got heavier. She had to keep herself centred. Had to keep herself focused. The blood loss was nothing she had not been through before. The only difference was that now, it was a willing offering.

She knew she could cauterize the wound with flame magic after the ritual was completed, and she'd offer the gauze she carried to anyone nearby. There was a little rubbing alcohol left in the bottle, perhaps it would be best to offer it to Ser Artaghh when all was said and done.
(Arlei Therus)
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[22:50] The blacksmith gives a small nod to Ohtli, as he watches her start the bloodletting. Tilting his head to the side as his green eyes examined the mask the resided on the old bird's face. He's seen that before... Right? His brow furrows as he attempts to remember when exactly he saw it last. If he had ever actually seen it.

Bah, he needed to focus on giving blood to the tree, and not on where he had last seen that wonderful mask! With a quick shake of his head, he'd focus on the task ahead.

Slowly he'd extend his right hand forwards, as a small dagger made entirely out of his energy magic formed in his hands. From there he'd mimic Ohtli's actions, as brought his energy dagger towards the interior of his arm, drawing as much blood as he could, as he extended the open wound over towards the growing tree. Letting as much of the blood as he could flow onto it.

This wasn't the first time he's given blood towards something, nor would this be the last. So his body was mostly used to it. Though sadly he doesn't know exactly how much blood he's given, or is giving, so he simply stands over the tree letting as much blood as he could flow onto it.

Unless of course someone told him to stop.
(Saba)
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[23:00] Percentages become a far off concern for the Drakan in her state. So do words like 'welfare' and 'stop, you're starting to scare the children'. There are no words of direction, they're not needed. She's fortunate for that because the only thing Ohtli can manage right now are the primal, draconian shrieks of exultation as the tree drinks deep of the offerings.

The soil is watered with the combined blood of several potent magi. No life is lost entirely, but much is given to the cause. All the clearing already sings with life. Undercurrents of old divine magic are at play only enhanced now by their efforts. Their coalition of varied souls comes together for a greater purpose.

As much as she wants to tell them all how proud she is, about the symbolism of the sacrifice they give, it's going to have to wait. A while.

In reply to the offering, the sustaining life and mana that is given, the center tree begins to grow outward. Its branches spread, the trunk swells, and it reaches skyward higher and higher.

Ohtli takes one last thing form her person, an item in easy reach, and presses it up against the tree as it expands- a single shard, kept safe with the rest of her guarded trove, is placed against the young tree's bark. As it expands the exterior of the tree grows around it, holding it and place.

Not only blood now, but the power of a spire shard gives life to the sapling at the glade's center. From all around in the leaves, in the thickets of the forest, the spirits sing in ecstasy.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[23:09] Ocean blue eyes that often went hidden behind his shades these days would be fully exposed, revealing the absolute awe he expressed as he watched the tree magically grow infront and above them, just the purest smile of enchantment would be seen on his old face, almost making him look more youthful in the moment.

As the shard was added, and everyone was still standing, he'd give a quick read on everyone's blood levels, what little mana he had left would drift between each present, and assuming they weren't near levels of passing out, he would let them offer more before cutting them off, the blood coagulating in the cuts they made.

He would turn back to the tree, he had only ever seen a spire shard a handful of times, having only ever held one once himself. It truly was a wonderous thing to watch, and as he was not only proud and thankful for the opportunity to help the woman he saw as his own Mother, he would begin beaming a radiant energy that soothedthose around him. Filling them with a warm joy and love for this very moment.
(Sugarboy)
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[23:11] Tototl's eyes are trained on his blood as it continues to cascade down atop the roots. Spirits, a proper bloodletting with more than one body... How long had it been?

The pupils of the Chieftain flash their usual bright brown, evident of his visionary casting style as the streams of cyan pour along with the crimson. It seems to stream from both the ring and wound itself, feeding into the roots and forest about them.

What a wonderous thing that ring of his was.

As Ohtli jams a spire shard into the sapling a wild grin finally graces his mug. Spirits, where had the old bird got that? His gaze doesn't falter, accustomed to his own bloodletting sessions, but there's a renewed vigor in those streams of cyan mana.

The Spirit Realm spoke through the ring and his body, fueling the forest with energies from the world beyond.
(Tototl)
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[23:12] Ser Artaghh did not need to be instructed upon the weight of their actions, their importance to Ohtli's dream of the spirit forest. Since the days they'd discussed such things over cups of luke warm tea in Crafthold, the knight had known that this place was worthy goal. A place that perhaps, one day, the old swordsman could set down his blade, till the lands, and retire in peace amongst the spirits.

It didn't sound half bad to the mystic, not at all.

Watching the others progressively drain themselves, the knight took the call to action with vigor! Drawing the tip of his black greatsword across his burn scarred forearm, more blood would begin to steadily pulse forth as with a grunt of visible exertion and bulging veins upon the commander's forehead, he'd ignite forth with the dense, rich blue flames of the mystic mana, the spirit realm's energy melded to his own after years of meditation as a master mystic.

The sappiric energy coiled with the dripping blood as Ser Artaghh forced forth more and more of his life force willfully into the ritual, giving perhaps more than he needed, or even had to give for the sake of Ohtli's dream. Smiling weakly to himself as the blood continued to pour down, traces of ethereal blue weaving within the ichorous red, a rogueish smile would trail across the swordsman's face as he began to flicker translucently, the blood shifting in opacity as the bald swordsman's drained physical reserves began to pull upon his concentration of spirit energy.

The cost was meaningless to him, he could never repay his debt to her in full.
(Artaghh)
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[23:13] That totally had to be, like, at least 27% of his blood. Right?

Y'know what. That was probably beside the point. That was a -LOT- of blood. And now not all of it was his. His balance was a little off and he was going pale.

As the tree grew, Eztli took a single step back. Wearily watching it as it grew, and grew and grew...

Man. He was here again a few weeks and already back into the weird rituals. AS it was apparent no angry ghost hordes were appearing Eztli allowed a weary grin to cross his features. HAving never actually seen a Spire shard first hand the impact was a little lost on him.

He'd let some time pass, not wanting to ruin the ritual. Though he leaned past to watch Ohtli carefully past the growing tree. In case she needed a hand...
(Eztli)
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[23:14] The Ryuujinite could only watch and breathe as her blood flowed into the forest, her life force assisting its powerful, divine growth, bit by bit. She was proud to be a part of this ritual, and there were few things she was proud of in her life. Perhaps in assisting with this ritual, her patron spirit could forgive her for her part in Arthur Rowan's travesty. Perhaps she could continue pushing on, living her life.

She was patient and still, simply allowing her lifegiving ichor to flow downwards. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to give her full attention to the rapid growth of the spirit tree; she was preoccupied with keeping an eye on the colour of her skin, watching it pale further with each second that passed.

The dizziness had begun to kick in now. She'd passed into stage two hypovolemic shock. Her breathing had sped up, her heart rate had increased and she was starting to sweat a little. But she could keep going. Just a little more. .

The nausea hit her. She knew she was at her limit. If she kept on giving to the forest, she'd not have enough to fully function. A small flame appeared on her right index finger, quickly being drawn down the slash on her left arm, cauterizing the wound and stopping the bleeding as she hissed in pain, her face scrunching up.

She'd done what she could. She barely even registered that Lady Ohtli had used an incredibly rare spire shard during the ritual. She was focusing on her own health at this point more than anything; if she passed into full on shock during this ritual, even with a doctor around, there wasn't a guarantee she'd survive, and she had work to do on Agartha before passing.

The apprentice Ryuujinite finally moved her head to look at the tree. It. . it was honestly majestic. The ethereal blue light shone upon nature's miracle, almost hypnotising the currently anemic retainer. She was going to keep her mouth shut, but once people began to disperse, Inari was definitely going to have to help her home.
(Arlei Therus)
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[23:14] Huh, he should probably stop his blood flow. Spirits knows he's probably given more than enough blood... Probably. So he'd simply pull his arm back as he'd begin to work his usual holy magic shenanigans speeding up the natural healing processes of his body.

OR that's probably what he would have done, if SUGARBOY DIDN'T CUT HIM OFF! The fucking absolute mad man! Oh well, he'd get his chance to give more blood later.

Maybe!

Was... Was that a spire shard? How long as Ohtli had one of those? Bah a question for another time! Either way Ohtli jamming it into the tree was rather neat! Not that he really know what it was gonna do, but it's pretty dope.

A small smile spreads across his face as the spirits of the forest began to sing in ecstasy! Whatever they were doing, it seemed to be working! So that's neat.
(Saba)
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[23:14] Watching as Ohtli placed her shard into the midst of the forest to ultimately give it the best chance at taking all of their blood conjoined and forging a divine jungle for the spirits to hopefully enjoy going forwards Kabu would feel a solid sense accomplishment wash over himself.

They'd done something that would ultimately outlive them all for a good cause.

He'd feel his lips wrenching themselves into a smirk as he watched all of this magical flora play out before his very eyes and immediately felt his Huntress watching over all of them with a good sense of pride in each of them.

Kabu's elation wouldn't halt here either, as this would go forth and give him a new reason to visit here, now and then should he feel the need to get closer to the veil between this world and that of the spirits, unbothered by anything else but the want he had to learn and converse with the elder Drakan about her ultimate goals for this land.
(Kabu)
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[23:21] The work is good. That cannot be denied. Ultimately the purpose is pure; the forest has a lot of potential for healing, mending, and bringing resolution to all kinds. Peasants and nobles, east and west.

Normally so refined, the Elder is lost completely and fully in the moment. The spirits sing, she bellows to the skies in triumph, and bleeds. Not necessarily in that order.

Adrenaline and divine magic are what drive her right now, otherwise this old bird would've been down for the count? But now? No way. Half of Dawn could march here and she'd be ready to cut down every last one of them- or at least try.

Pride fills her. Pride and approval from the Serpent for their deeds.

Even with the mask though she starts to get dizzy with the ritual completed. Ohtli is still painfully, very much mortal.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)
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[23:26] Stamping over the growing plants of the woods, Ez went 'round the circle to get to Ohtli without trampling Ritual stuff.

It was surprisingly hard to navigate, losing 30% of your blood does that to you. With bloodied hands he went to rest a hand on Ohtlis shoulder, helping her stand straight. And also leaving a crimson handprint on her cloak.

"Ghak... You good, Ohtli..?" managed the Gehennan weakly.
...
. . .

He looked to the crimson mark, adding "... Sorry 'bout that."
(Eztli)
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[23:30] Yet, channeling the Spirit Realm through into the tree's roots is tiring. The bloodletting has its toll too of course. His already fading vision begins to blue, the world slowly turning about him.

Spirits, he needed to do this to his tree.

Flexing his hand one last time one final gush of blood pours of his arm. Cruxati's Chieftain shakes his head vehemently, drawing his arm back towards his form. Upon that motion the glow of cyan from his wound and ring halt, his eyes closing shut. He'd need a few moments to steady himself, bind his wound but...

He'd live.

Tototl grins to those he knew, letting his vision settle on the Priestess. "Well... Spirits." He'd weakly chuckle. "Think ah... Think that's it for me." Drawing in another breath he'd begin wrapping his wound, a spare Sarradian cloth winding about his extremity.
(Tototl)
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[23:32] Arlei couldn't do much but lower herself to the ground and rub at her temples. That wasn't so much painful, as much as it was draining. She didn't just give her mana this time, she gave the most precious thing she could; her own vital blood.

It was nothing like Arthur's ritual, where she only had to give her mana and guide already-let blood to the circle. No, this time she gave her own for a cause she believed in. It was far more personal to her than Arthur's could have ever been. Now, she was sure; in helping Ohtli create this spirit forest, she was getting closer to redeeming for her crimes against Ryujin.

Shakily, she slipped her top, armour and jacket back on, closing it over to keep her warm. Mages recovered faster than non-magi at least, so she should be back up to full capacity within a couple of days, faster if she ate a lot of red meat.

Lucky she'd stocked up the refrigerator of House Zanders earlier. Steaks for all tonight. Arlei decided to remain silent though, and just bask in the vision of the great spirit tree, just like she had during Quetzalcoatl's manifestation.
(Arlei Therus)
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[23:33] Saba simply brings his hands to the back of his head, as he watches the ritual finish. He'd give a simple nod, as he glances around the circle. It seems as if the ritual was done, and Ohtli seemed to be... Tired, which makes sense seeing as she was the one leading all of this.

He'd go to make a step towards Ohtli to check on her, but Eztli seemed to beat him to that, so he'd opt to simply stand still, and maintain his circle, to the best of his ability anyways, seeing as EZTLI already broke it.

"Right, we'll that's all I got in me.. Probably." He'd give a simple shrug as he waited for the people around him to tell him what to do next, cause Spirits know he has no idea what he's doing now.

Giving blood was easy, what happens after that is probably... Complicated.
(Saba)
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[23:34] Ezmara's chieftain would be far paler, though this time the reasoning for his loss of color would be for a worthy reason. It filled him with an inexplicable happiness to see Ohtli so energetic and lively, he truly hadn't seen her in such a state in.. Helheim, has it actually been decades?

He was elated he could contribute to the joy she felt, even with the immense weakness he felt as he was physically and magically drained, though his spirit would still be strong.

He would take the time to slowly put on his shirt and don his armor once again, slipping on his shades and hat with one fluid motion. "Aye, I feel ya there, Tototl.. Shall we begin the arduous journey home?" He'd ask with a tired, yet warm smile.
(Sugarboy)
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[23:35] As the storms of his adrenaline, and the plethora of happiness he'd felt wore off over time.

Kabu would feel his vitality wearing down a bit as dizziness finally swarmed his head and made him realize he'd need to let up and replenish his reserves if he hoped to leave this forest after this concludes.

Surging in a crackle of his holy spark he'd use the last of his energy to seal his wounds and send a wave of refreshing vigor to make sure everyone about him starting feeling a bit better amidst this all wrapping up.

"I'd say....we've done a good thing here.

I thank you for letting me take part in it, Spiritbearer, does anyone need further aid?" he'd look about, making sure to heal anyone needing it in advance, if they remained.
(Kabu)
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[23:35] Ser Artaghh would smile weakly as his blazing aura of spirit energy slowly, steadily dissipates as he continued to bleed, giving more and more of his lifeblood without any reasonable stopping point. His head steadily began to grow clouded, arms heavy as matted blood from the scourging and ritualistic cuts puddled steadily before the ritual, his tan farmer's pallour growing paler by the moment.

Regalvanizing his vigor as he bit hard into his lip, the knight would grit his teeth as his entire body began to shimmer translucently, the dregs of his energy run dry and relying entirely on his mystic embers. Yet, drop by drop even those would be pulsed out in a crescendo of rich light as Artaghh phased further and further, his opacity disappearing inch by inch until for one last, brief moment, he was entirely seethrough as if a spirit.

Offering a steady heave s his manifested shroud of mana finally burnt out, the knight would offer Ohtli the legendary two thumbs up of approval weakly before collapsing on his back in the grass, already having begun to snore from the exertion of the ritual and his ruthless battle with Ashalle. It had been a long day.
(Artaghh)
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[23:38] Eztli allowed his aura to glow gently. Stemming the tide of blood as best he could considering as he offered Kabu a nod!

"All I need are a few bandages. I'll live."
...
He shifted his gaze to Artaghh. Adding "... He might need a hand, though... We got a spare bed in there, Ohtli?"
(Eztli)
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[23:38] Even in her weakened state, Arlei felt the need to assist her paladin. The drakanite staggered around the circle and placed two fingers against Artaghhs neck, checking his pulse.

Yeah, the old coot was fine. Just out cold. This was going to be a bitch.

She removed the heavy axe of Zanders from her back and knelt down, shuffling the unconscious paladin into a solid place. Using the axe as leverage, she hoisted herself back up to her feet, Artaghh securely held there.

"I--I think I'd better get him back to Dawn. I'll--I'll have Inari walk with us. It'll be okay, Eztli. He just needs some rest. I'll cauterize his wounds when we get back." she nodded, grunting with the exertion it took to haul this musclebound adonis around. She hobbled over to where Inari sat, waiting in the treeline and began to whisper to him.
(Arlei Therus)
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[23:40] The strain on all of them is very real. Giving blood is no laughing matter, even to those seasoned to the offering. Behind the lenses of the mask things get blurry...

With her bloodstained claws she scrabbles to remove the mask, slipping several times. Eventually she knocks it loose and it clatters to the ground. Her scales recede and her wings shrink back to their usual breadth.

"Ah...Yes. Yes. Everyone inside, please. If you wish to rest. I-"

Another crashing wave of dizziness strikes her and she regains her balance. Oh yeah. The -bleeding-.

"...I think we should all sit down for tea."

One minute slashing open her arm and screaming at the sky. The next? Civil again, somehow.
(Ohtli Tezcacoatl)