5/22/96 This log is a bit complicated. Tarod GM'd a timewarped scene for me at the Wheel's umbra, which tied up some rather messy loose ends--so the emits and pages in that scene are his. However, the rest of Sepdet's pack would have been there, so I roleplayed that scene for them, that night, including his @emits.
@doing Star dies tonight.
Cloud pages: Losing Sepdet's sight tonight? Or is she actually dying.
You paged Cloud with 'I don't know!!!! Grrrrrr.'.
You paged Cloud with 'Tarod won't tell me until he GMs it.'.
Cloud pages: Ah. Well, builds suspense. :)
You paged Cloud with 'Except it's damned hard to RP, when I don't _know_ whether or not I've lost it.'.
Cloud pages: I assume he'll tell you eventually.
You paged Cloud with 'Whatever it is, it should really happen tonight, since it's the last night, IC, Sepdet is gonna make the attempt. But he's going to actually _run_ it when he has time, so.'.
[And...right on cue....]
From afar, Anubis raises an eyebrow at your @doing. Have a little time?
You paged Anubis with 'Eeep. Yes. Timewarp it to this evening, at sunset, when Sirius sets for the last time til August.'.
You paged Anubis with 'middle of the wheel, in the umbra. I've been caught a few times but no one's stopped me yet. :)'.
Long distance to Anubis: Hope-Star . o O (Luckily, Eligio and Quiet are in the Coggie homeland, and Thorn's dead.)
[That evening]
Paul pushes the doorflap aside and joins you in the cozy shelter.
Paul has arrived.
Paul ducks his head down and murmurs, "Sepdet?"
Sepdet finishes polishing her bone knife and slips it into the wrist sheath, then looks up at the entrance.
Sepdet smiles faintly, the frightened air of last night gone somewhere during her dreams, though she still seems somehow smaller than usual. ~Now. To the promontory, I think, so that we can see the sky.~
Paul tries on a smile for size, and decides it's apparently a little too tight. But it was a start.
Sepdet slips out, picking up a clay bowl at the entrance.
leave
You roll back the heavy mat covering the entrance and slip outside into the forest.
[.......]
You pick your way east up the mountain trail. The going is rough; it takes you a long time to make the ascent as the foothills give over into the cliffs of the mountain proper. After a period of careful climbing, you top a ledge and find yourself on...
High Promontory
Obvious exits:
Trail Cave
Paul climbs up the steep trail to the west, coming out onto the promontory.
Paul has arrived.
Sepdet sets her bowl down for later and finds a perch on a worn smooth rock, turning west to look out over the lengthening shadows of the valley floor, and the caern secretly cradled within. She crosses her hands over her knees.
Paul seats himself next to Sepdet's rock, laying his staff across his knees.
Sepdet whispers to empty air, ~Heya, daughter, it's been a little while.~ Then she raises her eyes towards the horizon, watching the red lip of the sun sliding from view. ~I speak tonight of the oldest rhythm, of the river that rises and falls, like life.~
Sepdet whispers, ~Every year the river dies, while Ausar the hunter dwells in the halls of death. And every year she dies with him, so as to lead him through the Duat. Tonight, she goes down. Tonight, she dies.~
Paul shivers slightly, and lays his hands on the wood of his staff in an attempt to focus himself.
Sepdet's face is relaxed as she watches. So hard to see in the sun's last glare, the faint light of a star seems almost to be a pinpoint of a glass shard reflecting the light of the sun as its last hairline of fire flickers from view.
Sepdet says firmly, ~We Gather to honor Sepdet's passing, and to wait for her rebirth and return to the sky--on that dawn she leads Ausar up once more into the heavens, and the year's wheel is renewed. Once, she was the herald of the life-giving floods. Still, she is the herald...the Harbinger...of tomorrow's promise. Safe journey, sister.~
Sepdet falls silent but glances briefly towards Paul, her expression gentle, encouraging him to speak if words come to him.
Joseph climbs up the steep trail to the west, coming out onto the promontory.
Joseph has arrived.
Paul watches the sky solemnly, his fingers tracing the scars on his staff absently, seemingly of their own volition. He says softly, "Hope can sometimes be hidden. Sometimes lost from sight. But all cycles in nature turn full circle. I watch here, with my friend and teacher, to watch for the dawn of the new year's hope."
Dylan climbs up the steep trail to the west, coming out onto the promontory.
Dylan has arrived.
Dylan pads up quietly.
Su appears in a shimmering haze nearby.
Su has arrived.
Joseph turns, smiling as Dylan comes in on his heels, and then he makes his way up to where Paul and Sepdet watch the sky.
Sepdet's dark eyes remain fixed on the fading orange streaked horizon, locked upon that almost invisible point of light.
Su appears, and looks quite surprised to find a crowd until she puts two and two together.
Wayfinder comes from higher up the mountain,not the normal trail, out onto the promontory.
Wayfinder has arrived.
Dylan chuffs contentedly, stretches, and then slips up into his birthform, settling into it with a smile.
Dylan contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Dylan shifts into Homid form.
Su circles about, seating herself in the mouth of the cave, watching the assemblage with friendly interest. She follows the other Striders' gazes.
Sepdet begins to sing quietly, a clear shimmering song at odds with the pinched look about her face. She trusts her friends to understand what she is doing ,and to join as they wish.
Paul watches quietly, eyes on the horizon. A study in stillness.
You paged Su with 'You might know about the Sirius business. Might not. See +rite/info Greet the Hope-star'.
Dylan pads over, listening for a moment, then dips his hand into his tattered jerkin and pulls out his small wooden flute. After a moment's more listening, he puts it to his lips and joins Sepdet, very quietly.
A shower of pebbles precedes the arrival of the stargazer bitch, who jumps down into the promontary area from a narrow ledge a little higher up. Grooming herself into some semblance of composure, she grins at everyone present, tilting her head to listen in on the music.
Sepdet continues to sing, smiling as Dylan joins in. Those who know the old Strider's tongue may recognize snatches of old planting-songs, preserved for two thousand years and more, mingled with Sepdet's own prayers and well-wishings for the little star that now goes down into the houses of the dead. Much of it, though, is simply wordless notes.
Su quietly slips away from the crowd, glancing back only once with her own quiet well-wishes.
Su steps down onto the trail to the west, quickly becoming lost from sight as she descends the mountainside.
Su has left.
Joseph listens, settling into a relaxed repose. He looks down, an idea coming to him, and he takes out the rattle from his bundle, setting it into the palm of his hand and putting a backdrop to Sepdet's song, and Dylan's accompanyment.
Wayfinder pads over to Paul's side, looking out towards the horizon with him.
Seeker listens quietly to Sepdet's singin, glancing over his shoulder to watch Sirius set.
The star's light in the fading twilight is so faint that you don't really see the moment it dips below the horizon, but sometime in the singing, at last, it does, and you find a cool evening breeze in your faces which was not before.
Paul inhales deeply and lets it out in a soft sigh.
Seeker pages: Ack, missed him.
Sepdet looks around finally, drinking in the sight of packmates and tribesmates with a peaceful smile. ~That's as good a send-off as she's had in a long time. My thanks.~
Dylan lets the flute's voice fade to silence as Sepdet stops singing, and he smiles at her, and the rest of the pack.
Paul murmurs, "That's what we're here for. And to watch for the return."
Sepdet picks up the clay bowl at her feet quietly. ~Well. _One_ last time,~ she says, a bit more heavily. She looks around at them. ~I finish with my Rite tonight, for good or ill...for the Wheel. If the spirits do not take my offering tonight, I will not offer again.~ She gives Joseph an oddly apologetic glance.
Dylan tucks his flute away and nods quietly.
Sepdet slips back down the trail towards the Wheel, step quickening unconsciously to finish with this. It's obviously been a weight on her shoulders, these last several weeks.
You set off down the mountainside, making your way carefully as the trail switches back on itself through the steeper descents. After a time, the cliffs give over to lowland, and you find yourself in the foothills.
[.....]
You head through the tall grass toward the center of the clearing. The air fairly crackles with spiritual energy the closer you get to the center.
Umbra: Center of the Caern
Dylan comes into the center of the clearing from the pool to the southeast.
Dylan has arrived.
By the pool to the southeast, Joseph appears in a glimmer of light.
The air seems to thrum a bit tonight, for some reason seeming more attuned to the weakened power of the Wheel than of late.
Joseph comes into the center of the clearing from the pool to the southeast.
Joseph has arrived.
Shows-the-Way trots closer, eyes on his packmate but ears and nose sussing out possible threats as usual.
Sepdet, as always, strips to the waist, and kneels before the medicine wheel, setting the bowl before it. There is no elegance in her prayer: she calls each sign of the Wheel in a child's voice, simple and direct, focussing each one upon a memory of what she knows at them.
Dylan tips his head back to the sky, then crouches down to watch Sepdet.
Sepdet licks her teeth and looks around. ~Do not be afraid,~ she says quietly, perhaps partly to herself.
Joseph crouches, at a distance from the others. His eyes are trained beyond the Wheel instead of where the Little Strider is setting up, his face more of a stoic mask than usual.
Shows-the-Way contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Shows-the-Way shifts into Homid form.
Paul drops to a squat after he reverts, eyes on Sepdet still, looking unhappy but resigned.
Sepdet takes the bone knife upon her wrist, balances it over the bowl for a moment on slim fingers, and then with a sudden movement cuts a deep circle around the eye over her heart. She curls over the bowl, letting the circle of blood well up and drip into it. ~One _does_ fight Truth.~ Her hoarse whisper is sharp as flint. ~Truth: This caern was raped and robbed, and bled in pain. We exist to serve you. Truth: Your spirit flows with the river of Visions and mystery. Truth: I have drunk from that river. It flows in my blood. Honored Netcheru, whom I now have named, of this Wheel Per Swadjet: let my Visions flow from me to you, if this will bring healing to it. Drink.~
You paged Anubis with 'Swadjet means renewed. I found it while doing research for the tribebook.'.
Dylan's face is like something etched in bone, but he does not flinch.
Blood begins to spill from the cut, running faster, heavier than normal, almost like the thickening air is congealing it at the same time as it is leeching it from Sepdet's body.
Paul rises more fully to his feet, expression going wary.
Paul murmurs quietly, "This is new."
The noise in the air seems to pick up slightly, and there is a sound of far-off wings approaching. Sepdet's blood continues to spill unchecked by the normal healing power of the Garou.
Joseph's head cocks at the noise, his gaze shifting to the sky. Apprehension tightens his shoulders, and he darts a glance to his packmate.
Sepdet shivers and drops the knife, gripping the bowl with both hands. She makes no sound, will focussed against fear to keep perfectly still and let happen what must be.
Anubis pages: You have a high stamina, so you'll probably stay awake for longer than most. Eventually, you'll pass out from blood loss, however. I'll let you know when. Meanwhile, there's a hell of a lot of pain from that wound. You're not sure what hurts, though -- the cut or the udjat...
Long distance to Anubis: Sepdet finds her player's hands shaking a bit, and nods.
The air is filled with the sound of a flurry of wings, but still nothing can be seen. Sepdet's blood flows onward, congealed lumps falling into the bowl like maroon putty; a slight smell of burning flesh begins.
Dylan's fingers tighten, burying themselves in the ground, but he does not look away from Sepdet and his expression does not change.
Joseph lifts from his crouch, his apprehension groing as he searches the sky. Moving toward Paul, with another brief, concerned gaze flickered at Sepdet, he says quietly, as if a question in itself. "Hope?"
Smoke curls upward from the center of the bloodied circle on Sepdet's chest -- there is no flame, just the burning and a growing stench.
Sepdet's hands begin to shiver over the bowl, but she gives Paul a faint tightlipped shake of the head.
Wayfinder pads forward toward to Sepdet, a question in her eyes, brow furrowed deeply.
Paul says softly, "Healer stand ready. I think she's going to need it."
Dylan nods minutely.
The flurrying sound builds to a final crescendo, and a bird appears -- much too small for the noise it makes. A great horned owl; it alights in a tree on the circle's edge, bright yellow eyes burning as it watches Sepdet fall.
Sepdet tries to keep her eyes open as long as she can, fixed chiefly upon Magpie's sign. She is, for once, terrified, as she was not when she faced the molten river of silver. Finally, the bowl finally falls from her fingers, and the Strider slumps over it. It is full of blood now, already congealed. But as she collapses, the smoke billows briefly, and then disperses; the terrible burning stench remains.
Paul looks at the owl with a hard, demanding gaze.
Dylan stands up, and moves to Sepdet's side, unhurried, unhesitating.
The Owl doesn't even look at Paul. As soon as the Strider collapses, it raises its wings, gives a silent cry as if snapping at something invisible, and flickers out.
Paul mutters, "Someone see if she lives, please? Joseph.. Ask the owl.. Never mind."
Wayfinder huddles next the the fallen Strider, nosing her gently.
Joseph's hands tighten, his eyes searchign to see if he can find the spirit.
Joseph turns his gaze then to the fallen Strider and Dylan, though he does not crowd him. He does hover just behind him however.
Sepdet's breathing is so shallow that only a close scrutiny can show there is life left in her. She is pale and gray, collapsed over the bowl on her stomach, covering both now.
Dylan settles himself behind Sepdet, and gently pulls her back to lean against him so that he can check her breathing. Gently, easily, he slips into his familiar healing trance, though the bleakness in his face is not his usual expression.
Hands white knuckled on his staff, Paul's gaze searches the trees, eyes bright with tightly controlled emotion.
Wayfinder slips into a trance along with Dylan, letting him guide the healing, offering her strength. The stargazer bitch's head lays in Sepdet's lap, eyes closed.
When Dylan lifts Sepdet in his arms, two things are obvious. First...the bowl is empty, bone dry. Second, there is no trace of the wound at all, but the faint knife-thin lines of the Eye trace in her chest have changed. They no longer look to have simply been clean, thin cuts. It's now an angry, fresh, blackened brand, the skin charred and blistered over it to ash.
Paul finishes his scan of the trees with a smothered snarl, then finally looks at the body of his teacher, eyes taking in the changes, the bowl, her stillness. Fingers digging into the wood even harder, the act of -not- changing apparently one of the hardest things he's done since the River.
You paged Wayfinder and Dylan with 'You saw how much blood she lost, enough, perhaps, to have killed even a Garou. But she's not dead. In fact, there's no trace of it having been lost at all. Just the burn, which you know was not like that before, and which your Mother's Touch balks against healing.'.
From afar, Wayfinder is offering back the part of yourself that you gave to her, plus some.
Dylan's arms cradle the strider's small form protectively, but he slips out of trance again without apparently having done anything. Then he just sits for a time, holding Sepdet and not speaking.
Long distance to Wayfinder: Sepdet takes it. (shudder)
Joseph cannot hold himself still any longer, his apprehension creeping into his voice as he demands from Dylan, "She lives?"
Dylan nods. ~Oh, yes,~ he says quietly.
Wayfinder's eyes remain closed, head still upon her packmate's lap. Her breathing slows just a little more.
Joseph falls to his knees to look into Dylan's eyes, depserately trying to garner more.
Paul relaxes the smallest increment, no longer on the edge of shaking apart. Quite.
Dylan looks up, dark-eyed and very steady, to meet the Wendigo's gaze. "I do not know, Rabbit Brother," he says simply. "She lives. She breathes. She....she lacks no blood, despite what we saw. And more, I do not know. But I think that is enough, for me, for right now."
Sepdet stirs, as Joseph leans close, ands stares up at the sky, unfocussed. Her eyes tear up and begin to stream down her cheeks.
Joseph moves forward when she moves,a pained expression on his face as he calls her name again, "Sepdet?" His hand moves up to caress her cheek.
Paul stands guard silently, not trusting his voice or his control much at all.
Sepdet takes a few tries to find her voice, which is naturally none too steady. ~Hurts...~ she answers faintly. ~Heru angry. Very angry. But...Shepitra said...other ways to heal.~
Wayfinder is quiet, and hasn't stirred yet, even when Sepdet begins to cry. She appears to be sleeping quite deeply.
Joseph quiets her with a small shhh, and continues his gentle caress. "Its ok. Its ok." Though his voice falters, faintly.
Sepdet moves her hands to clutch the brand over her chest, which evidently is giving her some pain...even through the Stargazers' efforts. She licks her lips. ~It will be,~ she promises faintly, and goes quiet again, face still slack from whatever it is she just saw.
Paul shivers more than a little and finally says softly, "He.. Lord. You'll heal, Teacher?"
Dylan stays quiet, just staying in contact.
Pack> Wayfinder will stay sleeping unless Sep gets up, or someone tries to wake her. :)
Sepdet shudders, hands moving now to touch one packmate, then another, finally coming to rest on Wayfinder's muzzle. ~Heru took nothing from me, Shesemw. Nothing. Just reminded me of what he has given, and which I am not allowed to set aside.~
Paul whispers mostly to himself, "I surely hope he doesn't carry a grudge for the offer."
Sepdet closes her eyes. ~They understood. They understood why. But one Harbinger's soul isn't enough.~
Joseph's eyes search the sky again with faint apprehension. Returning his gaze to Sepdet, he nods.
Paul says quietly, "I have the feeling.. Well, no matter." He takes a deep breath, then another, tension slowly leaking back out of him.
Sepdet seems quite content to sit still, curled up among her packmates...if, indeed, she has the strength to move after her ordeal. She shuts her eyes again. ~Have to gather the caern. Tell them. We'll never repair it, if we don't all make offering...together. But later.~ She sighs raggedly. ~Soon.~
By the pool to the southeast, Heart-of-Wind appears in a glimmer of light.
Paul says softly, "Soon enough, hopefully."
By the pool to the southeast, Heart-of-Wind's eyes are attracted to the shimmering form of Ehni as she slips into the Umbra, but her ears swivel and her gaze turns to Paul when she hears his voice.
You paged Heart-of-Wind with 'There seems to be a pile of Whispers gathered around a semi-collapsed and semi-unclothed Sepdet at wheel's center. Everyone looks concerned, except Sepdet, who looks like she's been run over.'.
Wayfinder lays quiet with her head in Sepdet's lap, still sleeping deeply, it seems.
By the pool to the southeast, Heart-of-Wind's ears twitch back again when she sees the fallen Sepdet and WayFinder, and she hurries toward the group.
Heart-of-Wind comes into the center of the clearing from the pool to the southeast.
Heart-of-Wind has arrived.
Heart-of-Wind trots quickly over to her friends, nosing WayFinder gently. She looks up at the others, cocking her head in concerned question.
Paul says quietly, "Hallo, May. You can wake her, please? We're just a little out of it right now."
Joseph has disconnected.
Heart-of-Wind senses "Sepdet's chest is bare--she wears no shirt. Between her breasts, the faint lines of the Eye tattoo that were all but invisible have been drastically altered...they're now deep blackened, charred lines burned into her flesh."
Sepdet rests her hands on Wayfinder's muzzle, curled up between Dylan and Joseph. Her eyes are half-shut, dazed, but she's still somewhat aware of what's happening around her.
Heart-of-Wind nods.
Heart-of-Wind contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Heart-of-Wind shifts into Homid form.
May takes a moment to shake out her joints and forcibly relax before sitting down next to Sepdet and WayFinder. She runs her fingers lightly over WayF's quiet form.
May looks back up at Paul, bewildered. "It doesn't seem like anything's wrong, she's just asleep. What happened?"
May continues running her fingers through WayFinder's fur.
Paul says quietly, "Wayf fell asleep. I'm not sure exactly why. Maybe the owl. Sepdet.. She tried to sacrifice something of herself for the caern, and found a path to perhaps healing it. And paid a price in pain, at least."
Sepdet says doggedly, ~Wayfinder...trying to heal me. Nothing _to_ heal.~
Long distance to May: Sepdet . o O (Nevermind the large burn over my heart. ;)
May looks back and forth between the two. She does not look markedly enlightened. She leans down toward the sleeping wolf. "Wayfinder? Wake up. Come on." Her voice is gentle, as are her fingers as she shakes her friend slightly.
May pages: I figured it wasn't quite time to comment on that yet. :)
Wayfinder snorts lightly, and curls up a little tighter. In a few moments her eyes flicker open. She looks up at Sepdet, then gradually up at the others. She yawns widely, still blinking sleepily. Mmm?
May smiles down at Wayfinder. "Good morning, Merry Sunshine."
Paul grins at May's greeting, some of his gloom getting knocked loose immediately.
Wayfinder looks confused, then alarmed. It is morning? Why are we still here?
Sepdet strokes Wayfinder's head weakly. ~You...tranced. Not come out. Worried.~
May laughs. "No, silly, it;s not morning. My mom always said that to me when I woke up, no matter what time it was." She looks wistful for a moment, then recovers with another smmile. "Are you okay?"
Wayfinder considers this, then looks mildy annoyed. This one was having nice dreams. About the sea... she sighs wistfully.
May nods understandingly.
Paul says quietly, "Meia culpa. I asked her to wake you back up. Sorry to interrupt your dream, Wayf."
Wayfinder nods at Paul, not looking particularly concerned. Instead, she noses Sepdet gently. Teacher? Where did you go, so far from this one?
Sepdet rasps, ~The Duat.~
May looks at Sepdet, eyebrows drwing together in incomprehension.
Paul says softly, "This was the night for it, I suppose."
Wayfinder licks Sepdet lightly. You came back. That is good. This one is not sure one could find the way into and out of there, to find you and bring you back.
Paul says quietly, "And that's a line I haven't learned to balance on yet. Just as well, I suppose."
May shakes her head. "What is it?"
Pack> Wayfinder says "There are limits to way-finding, after all. :)"
Sepdet says, ~Dead. Wepwawet...met me again. We talked. Then...after....Heru...~ she shudders, and doesn't complete that thought. ~They sent me back.~~
Paul says softly, "Her spirit went walking the Underworld. The paths of the Dead. And thankfully was sent back."
May draws back ever so slightly at the word "Dead." She blinks a few times, then nods. Her attention moves to Sepdet's chest. "Sepdet...Are you sure ther's, umm, notthing to heal?"
Wayfinder nuzzles the distraught Strider. It is all well now. She indicates with her muzzle. Packmates and friends stand ready to guard your dreams. Go back through, to the den?
Sepdet cringes. ~Nothing you can, but thank you. Heru did that.~
May nods, and doesn't ask any more questions.
Sepdet stirs and sighs. ~Yes. Back through. She struggles to get to her feet.
Paul reaches over to help Joseph help Sepdet to her feet.
May stands up and dusts off the seat of her pants.
Joseph 's sturdy hands help her gently.
Wayfinder offers her shoulder as support to the weary Strider, then steps back to allow Paul and Joe to take over. Heart-of-Wind and this one will stay to collect your things, Hope-rhya. We will follow.
Sepdet moves towards the pool weakly, surrounded by plenty of hands and support. She nods shakily. ~Thanks. All.~
