EVENT #1: THE EMPTY THRONE

[aionmods]

The Empty Throne

DESCENT

Nearly two weeks after being dragged from shrine caverns, you hear along the grapevine that the "the throne room is complete." It doesn't take long to figure out what that means; the ritual grounds that you have been hearing mention of are finally prepared, and it's only a short while before you are once again being gathered together for travel. As a small mercy, at least this time the journey is short.

Through a passage that has been blocked by a gathering of soldiers for the entire length of your stay, a stairway is revealed to you. It leads deep into the ruins, through unfamiliar structures and into the bowels of the earth. Though your feel your are mostly going downward, the walk is still long on account of how many stairs their are, and the soldiers escorting you are restless. They are now being led by the stray, mask wearing Achamites that have been accompanying the group till now, silently observing. Whatever place this is, it seems that they now hold court.

Funneled into the chambers below, you are greeted by a massive, domed enclosure of stone. Positioned around its circular radius are twelve thrones in various states of disrepair, sized as if meant to seat giants. The backs of these thrones all differ slightly in design, though most have great cleaves of stone broken loose from their architecture, as if subjected to some great cataclysm. Each is engraved with a sigil, though some have been obscured by the destruction wrought. The throne closest to the entrance has been almost entirely demolished, making it impossible to glean much about.

The dome's ceiling appears to be hundreds of feet tall at its apex, its smooth surface disrupted by stalactites that puncture through its form like teeth. As a result, many chunks of the original structure seem to have cracked and collapsed in to the floor below. When examined closely, these fragments of the domed ceiling seem to be made of a material strangely reflective in quality, though caked in many years of dirt and grime. If large enough sections are cleaned, patterns may emerge, revealing designs that look almost like star maps. The floor beneath your feet as a similar, but subtly different quality, covered in wreckage and ruin but can be cleaned to reveal complex patterns of intersecting lines.

A careful eye will indicate that these lines all lead towards the center of the room - the one space that has been cleared and scrubbed prior to your arrival. Here, the lines converge, with carefully preserved marking in the stone that bely increasing levels of runic complexity the closer you look. This is where the ritual will be held, you are told.

THE RITUAL

There is not much time to regain your bearings before you are being shuffled forth towards the ritual space; no, all the waiting has already been done. Under the command of the smaller group of Achamites, the Hylicians will make heavy use of the whips in leading everyone to their places along the rune-inscribed circle. Before that, however, small cuts will be made to each prisoner with an athame, either on their hand or arm. With a sharp, burning sensation in the afflicted skin, these cuts will spread into wounds reflecting the image of one of the eleven sigils displayed on the thrones encircling the group, and matching the shrine they were originally pulled from.

With this accomplished, they can finally be taken into the circle. With a design comprised of four triangles overlapping, the design of an open eye carved at its center, all prisoners will be led to separates points on its design where the lines cross. Seemingly arranged by their shrine sigil to be closest to whatever throne represents them, they will be brought to their designated positions one by one. Any attempts to flee or disrupt the process will be dealt with swiftly and harshly, exacerbated by the increasing levels of paranoia and fear in the soldiers themselves. Whatever is being done here, they don't seem happy to involved with it either.

When everyone is in place, the seeming master of ceremonies will finally emerge. A dark haired woman will appear from the shadows, motes of golden light fluttering about her otherwise darkness-clad visage. Moving towards the center of the circle, she will stand over the marking of the eye and begin working her magicks. As if on cue, the soldiers will withdraw any remaining whips and scurry to the outside of the circle, only for new bonds of ethereal energy to lash out of the ritual circle itself, binding each and every prisoner and dragging them down to their knees. Among the soldiers, you can hear mutterings identifying this woman as "the Aion."

"Come," she says to the coterie of robed Achamites, who will approach the circle with an assortment of vials collected into cases. There is enough for each prisoner to be given a drink, and so they will; a vial of abyssal liquid will be forced into each one of your throats, no matter how uncomfortably it must be done. While no less ruthless, the Achamites have a different way about them as they work, forcing themselves upon you with a strange familiarity that feels more akin to a mother forcing their child to take medicine than the suspicious hostility of the soldiers. As the foul liquid touches your tongue, it takes on a consistency almost like a living thing, crawling down your throat even if you refuse to swallow, all while the Achamites stroke your hair and make saccharine assurances.

Once all the prisoners have been fed their vial, the Achamamites too will retreat from the circle - all except for one. Joining 'the Aion' at the center, the two of them will begin enacting a planned ceremony of sorts, that culminates in the following scene:

The Achamite kneels before the Aion, lifting their masked face to meet their dark gaze. They speak, in practiced tones.

"To the Kenoma my body, to the Kenoma my soul."

In response, the Aion holds the Achamite's face between their hands in almost a loving gesture. She speaks softly:

"By the blood of the Martyr, I accept your sacrifice."

From the Aion's hands a darkness spreads across the Achamite's body, as if they are melting and dissolving on a cellular level. She kneels along with them, cradling them as their body breaks down, pooling in a void-black liquid around their knees. It drains into the lines of the ritual circle, surging out towards the prisoners.

Within moments, the ritual is complete.

KENOMA SICKNESS

As this dark power surges throughout the ritual circle, you will find yourself almost consumed by the tide. Whatever foul creation you were forced to swallow wakes within your chest, and you can feel it move within your veins, inside you lungs, behind your eyes. As quickly as it begins, the flood of darkness washes over you, but not without leaving you stained.

Something has changed in its wake. As you return to your senses, you will notice the magical bonds of the circle have fallen away, leaving you free to move; for once, the soldiers will not move to lead or restrain you. Instead, the Hylicians warily back away from the ritual space, retreating towards the only path upwards, where they form a defensive line. The Achamites that linger make a series of ritual gestures, praying in voices too soft to hear. The Aion woman stands in the center, her hands blackened with residue from the person you just watched fall to pieces in her arms.

"You will be given time to find your truth," she says. "Use it well."

As you recover from the experience enough to stand, she and her Achamite entourage are already retreating to join the Hylician guard. Gradually, your situation will become clear: they intend to keep your trapped down here. However, it will not be the same as when you waited before. Instead, the soldiers simply intend to block your only exit out, and otherwise leave you free to roam the full diameter of the throne room, seemingly free to do whatever you want as long as it isn't trying to break free of the cavern's confines. Each day, they will offer to their prisoners a limit supply of food, water, and firewood, but nothing more. Beyond that, you only have your increasingly dirty white robes and the same bedrolls as before.

❖ COMMUNION
The first change you will experience is an itching darkness in your mind, like a psychic wound that is becoming infected. The sort of thoughts you would normally try to force down become increasingly hard to resist; despair, hatred, and fear will plague you, and requiring great feats of will to silence even temporarily. Phantoms of the things you'd rather forget will become a constant companion, all while a presence seems to whisper: when you accept your fate, the pain will stop.

Worse than this, the darkness of your mind may not remain private. As if awakened by the ritual, your empathetic sense has become impossibly strong, to the point that you feel the broadcasted emotions and thoughts of others, and in turn, your darkest thoughts will be psychically projected to others with a volume proportional to the intensity with which you feel them. This effect is most potent between those sharing Legacy, with the capacity for their identities to become momentarily confused. In all cases, this connection may bleed into your dreams, or manifest as hallucinations.

❖ TRANSFORMATION
Yet, your mind is not the only thing that ails. In proportion to the strength of your emotions, your body may begin changing to match your state of mind. Physical transformations akin to those mentioned here will begin to manifest, themed to your inner suffering and the most negative aspects of your self conception. These alterations may shift from moment to moment, depending on the turbulence of your emotional state. They may or may not be painful.

❖ AFFLICTION
Along with the above effects, characters may also experience various more mundane ailments; essentially anything traditionally associated with illness could fit. Weakness, nausea, body aches, and chills are all common options. Along with this, void-black ooze may start to trickle from virtually any orifice. While it may stain clothing and skin, the material itself will dissipate after a few minutes in a manner reminiscent of ectoplasm. This effect may also appear around your Shard, as if the stone itself has begun to bleed.

RESISTANCE

Even as the Kenoma threatens to overwhelm you, you still have the power to fight. Though it may be a grueling war of attrition, you can force back its advances with sufficient will to survive and resist the darkness. Of course, your captors are not going to make this easy for you. Those that fight hard enough to expel the Kenoma from their bodies and spirits will take at least a week to do so, and for that duration they will be trapped within this chilly cavern, haunted by their worst thoughts and emotions.

The bedrolls barely strand up against the cold, your clothing doesn't at all, and to be comfortable you'll require fire. Yet, there is a limited amount provided to you, along with food and water, and the soldiers do not seem to be making any effort to distribute it evenly. Achieving basic warmth and sustenance may become a battle against your fellow inmates, all while you struggle against the enemy infecting your body. Cracks in the dome of the cavern lead into some smaller caverns and crevasses in the stone that can offer some privacy or protection, but the more splintered the group becomes the less the supplies will hold up. Fortunately for you, neither the cold nor starvation will kill you, but it will make you suffer.

Yet, you may still persevere. As you fight back the Kenoma, something else will be cultivated in its place. Bit by bit, a comforting and warm presence will grow within you, gradually disrupting the maladies afflicting your body and mind. Your faith and perseverance has been rewarded with an attunement to the Pleroma, the Kenoma's cosmological opposite; given enough time, the Kenoma will be forced from your being entirely, in the form of void-black sludge. Only then will your power begin to shine through, the abilities of your past life slowly returning.

You must keep your guard. With or without otherworldly power, escape will be a struggle.

ACCEPTANCE

Or, you may choose the easy option. Maybe the Kenoma resonates with your history and emotions in a way that makes it seem like it isn't the enemy. Maybe the depths of your despair are too deep to escape. Maybe your simply lack the strength to fight. Whatever the reason, sooner or later, the Kenoma claims you. The more you let it in, the less it feels like a poison and the more it feels like strength. The darkness settles comfortably into the cracks and holes of your spirit, and you awaken to its power. You feel the change viscerally.

This world is not good enough, a voice seems to speak through the Kenoma. This suffering you feel, the cruelty that has birthed this darkness in you... it is simply the rot that is consuming this existence. A better universe awaits, one forged by your own hand, and all you need do is first bring about this broken reality's end.

Whatever effects you were suffering from the Kenoma's presence will fade away, and in its place, you will feel your endurance bolstered. The clarity is stark in comparison to the mire you were trapped in before. As the other prisoners suffer around you, the Aion woman from before and an accompaniment of a couple Hylician soldiers will approach you among the ruins, as if summoned straight to your location. She looks you over, her dark eyes impassive, and then asks:

"Did you feel it?"

She doesn't actually wait for an answer, your expression alone enough to assure her. She'll tell the soldiers that you are free to go, and that you are to be given a share of their food and a change of clothes. She'll escort you out of cavern and towards the upper ruins, where the soldiers and Achamites have set up camp. This feels natural to you, somehow, like you and her are on the same wavelength in a way that is hard to comprehend. She is like you, you sense. That dark power is within her as well.

She doesn't linger with you for long, but she will see that you are on your way before heading back to the caverns. She'll say that the voice you heard, that promise, was the Regent, the ruler of this land. They spoke of a power that could birth a new, better universe, and they weren't misleading you. It's within their reach, closer than ever, and if you help them achieve it you will be rewarded lavishly. For now, you are free to regain your strength while the others make their choices. She only asks that you stay in the area and be ready to join the Regent in Achamoth when all is prepared.

If you're prone to boredom, though, she will mention that you'd really be doing the prisoners a favor by convincing them to accept the Kenoma like you did. You could convince them with words, or by making their situations so unbearable they won't have a choice but to break. However you'd like. It won't be worse than what's coming for them if they carry on this way.

When she parts ways with you, you are left to your own devices. Somehow, you feel inclined to cooperate. After all, the Regent did have a point.

QUESTIONS

Are the involuntary transformations during the Kenoma sickness period temporary afflictions or permanent ones?
By default they are temporary, but characters can also keep a couple keepsake changes if you'd like! An Aion's physical appearance is something that is generally in flux, and so even if you keep something from this event, you can always alter it later.

What kind of supplies are going to be distributed to those who accept Kenoma and leave the caverns?
They'll be given food, water, and clothing. They'll be given more/better rations than they were as prisoners, but it's still the sort of food that is limited by the fact that they are out here on a mission. The soldiers will have some fresh meat from prey they've been hunting in the forest, and will generally be having a lot of stew-based food going. There are actual spices in it, though, so that's cool. This is all set up where the Hylicians are camping.

As for clothes, they will get a fresh set (including boots or shoes) and some soap to clean themselves up in the nearby creeks and ponds. Hylici has an aesthetic that leans towards ancient Greek/Roman, so while they won't have anything fancy with them, you are free to assume they are able to acquire anything in that general ballpark. They do also have pants, though. While it is now spring and Horos has a generally temperate climate, it can be chilly at night.

Will Pleroma attuned be able to escape once they've regained their powers?
Yes, they will be allowed to escape at that point, and a second log will be going up to cover that part of the event. This log should generally cover up until shortly after Pleroma start ejecting the Kenoma's influence. Characters are permitted to escape by their own power if they somehow devise a plan to do so, but as we know the Pleromas are at a significant disadvantage in this situation, some characters who have fought against the Kenoma particularly valiantly will be given some magical assistance to help the survivors escape.

Will the Kenomas be able to try to stop them?
Yes! The second log will be set up to contain some PVP, though given the Pleromas do need to escape, we ask that you play nice. There will be a battle, but it will be structured in the context of the Pleromas having to hold off the Kenomas long enough to escape, so it will be relatively brief.

Can we speak to "the Aion"?
Yes, she will be around for the full length of the event. All characters will have the chance to find her watching over the group whether they are Kenomas or soon to be Pleromas. She will not be that talkative, though, so anyone tagging her will have to lead the conversation. She will not make small talk. Martyrs will recognize her as one of them.

Comments

[passio]

…?

[ dextera takes the scrap of cloth gratefully, not inclined to deny a gift when it doesn’t seem to be harming the person it’s from to give it, but he’s obviously surprised. confused, maybe. ]

…

[ it seems only polite to trade, and so after a moment of looking around at his array… dextera selects a sizeable bone that he hasn’t yet started gnawing on, and offers it out to eustace. he did just say that they don’t taste good, but they have some nutrition in them nonetheless. ]

i signed up for this and yet i'm still in tears

[lockedon]

[ ..................................?

He hadn't been angling for anything in return - hadn't expected anything in return at all - so the sudden appearance of a bone held out towards between two slender fingers is jarring, to say the least.

Blinking, he stares down at the bone before cautiously taking it. He is hungry and he's not impractical enough to waste food, unappetizing as it might be. ]

Thanks.

[ It comes out sounding more like a question than an affirmative, the words slow and hesitant. ]

Where did you get these from?

[passio]

[ dextera nods to eustace’s gratitude, and if he notices that it’s a bit hesitant he doesn’t seem keen on acknowledging it.

and, in answer to the question, he points to one of the guards standing around watching the captives. the bones would probably taste better if they were salted or fried or anything, but it had been enough of a task to get them in the first place. he doesn’t expect that he’s going to manage to get anything else from the soldiers now that he’s swung this, because their eyes are on him and his oddity. he’ll have to make these “rations” last—but for eustace’s sake, he’s willing to let go of one.

scooting slightly out of the way, he shows eustace his array: the bones, yes, along with some stains on the floor where some other mysterious things might have been stored. there’s also the shell of a beetle, and whether that was food or just a nice trinket is a mystery to be solved. ]

[lockedon]

[ ....Guy's resourceful, Eustace has to give him that. It's a complete departure from the last time they'd bumped into each other and Eustace can't help but wonder what other tricks might be tucked up those sleeves. Maybe the quiet ones really are the ones to be most careful around.

The beetle shell he leaves as a mystery for later, but he does sweep his gaze across the rest of the assorted bits on the floor. A surprisingly varied collection considering the limited supplies they've otherwise been given.

He looks back at the bone in his hands but doesn't start eating it just yet. ]

Are you used to eating stuff like this?

[passio]

[ it was either these things or death. it still is these things or death. he can eat normal human food and receive nourishment for his normal human body, but there’s a part of him unwillingly obligated to consume sustenance much closer to life than death.

for some definition of the word, he thrives in places like their current situation, where they’re all bound to suffer and need to work in a system that wants them to break.

so again, he nods. he knows it’s weird and gross, but… eustace seems to be taking it in stride, and because of that, dextera is more willing to answer the questions honestly and without too much shame. there’s always a little, but he doesn’t completely avert his gaze. ]

[lockedon]

[ It's weird and gross but also it's practical, and if there's one thing Eustace can respect it's the drive to keep going even in the face of heavy opposition. He nods thoughtfully at the collection before hunkering down, legs crossing in front of him as he takes a break to for mealtime.

The bone he's been handed definitely doesn't rank high on his list most delicious meals ever had but it's sustenance all the same, and after days of living off not remotely enough food he's more than willing to tear into at, albeit at a slightly slower pace than Dextera.

For a bit, there's nothing but the sound two grown men slurping away at their bones. ]

[passio]

[ the silence is nice. eustace is nice, dextera thinks, watching the other man as they have a snack in relative peace. it’s impossible to relax, considering the circumstances, and this is somehow worse than the initial captivity—but dextera has found people who seem, if not always kind, reliable. eustace is very much one of those people. ]

…

[ after fishing out a stray piece from his molars, dextera flicks it aside and then slightly waves his hand to get eustace’s attention. he has a question. ]

[lockedon]

[ Eustace, having never feasted on a meal comprised mostly of bones before, eats at a decidedly slower pace, forced to fish out stray bits of bone more often than not. Thus, he's still chewing thoughtfully on his meal when Dextera motions to him, the sudden gesture catching him by surprise.

He blinks once, the ears atop his head twitching in reply, and it's another few seconds for him to chew and swallow (and then spit out the bony extras) before he can replying properly. ]

Hm?

[ Well, maybe it's not the greatest reply, but it's a reply all the same. ]

[passio]

[ the question is surely one eustace has gotten a thousand times before, but dextera needs to ask anyway, because it’s his first—technically second, but it’s the same person so it counts—encounter with such features.

he points to the space above his own head, where animal ears like eustace’s might sit if dextera were also blessed with them. ]

…?

[lockedon]

[ The only good thing about having been asked that question a thousand (and now one) times is that it's easy to understand and easier to answer. Understanding flickers in his eyes almost immediately, and the answer that follows is straightforward and to the point. ]

They're real. [ First of all. ] All Erunes have them. They take the place of regular human ears.

[ With a tap to the side of his head. He thinks about it for a second before lowering his head and leaning forward. ]

Here.

[ Permission granted to touch for proof, not because he's some kind of slut that goes around asking everyone to touch his ears. It just seems like it'll be quicker to get to the point that way. ]

[passio]

—!

[ dextera flinches when eustace leans forward. he hadn’t expected the offer, since touching someone’s ears seems intimate. he wouldn’t want to touch someone’s human ears, so although eustace seems to be just fine with the idea, dextera hurriedly shakes his head.

perhaps there’s a part of him, too, that worries he would want to keep touching them if allowed to experience it once. he shouldn’t get used to even the small luxuries. ]

[lockedon]

[ It's a bit surprising when he catches sight of Dextera moving back rather than forward, a wary refusal rather than the enthusiastic excitement that so many others regularly display. It's not unpleasant—rather, he can appreciate the personal space being afforded to him right now, moreso considering it's willingly given.

He sits back up, half-chewed bone still in his hand but abandoned for the time being as other thoughts float into his head. ]

There aren't people with animal ears or horns where you come from?

[ Might as well get a feel for the types of places they all hail from while they're stuck here. ]

[passio]

[ horns…

there is very definitely one person with horns where he comes from, but the branching growth from her head is a sign of spiritual decay rather than some natural occurrence of creation. he grimaces, threading his fingers through his hair on one side, where horns might sprout if he had them.

he begins to shake his head, but pauses. he’d like to try to explain, so he motions for eustace to look to the ground where he writes out a single word. ]

Sickness

[lockedon]

[ Obediently, Eustace follows the motion of Dextera's hand towards the ground, and watches silently as the other man carefully writes a string of letters on the ground.

Sickness...? He's never been the best at reading people, even if he's become a pro at reading actions on the battlefield, and so it takes him a moment to try and fit the pieces together. Presumably the sickness is something he's witnessed before arriving and not his current condition here, and given what they were talking about before.....hm.

He hazards a guess. ]

People grow partslike those when they're sick?

[passio]

[ dextera has neither the time nor the desire to explain all the intricacies of the baroque sickness that he’s come to understand, so eustace’s guess is as close as they’re getting. he nods.

but besides the kenoma, eustace doesn’t look sick, nor does he feel corrupted according to dextera’s innate sense for that kind of thing. of course, he doesn’t know eustace very well, and there may be layers of complexity that he can’t even think about tapping into—but at first brush, eustace seems normal enough, and his ears are therefore also perfectly normal. ]

[lockedon]

[ The information's interesting to think about, and he mulls it over silently as he goes back to chewing his half-eaten bone. Draph and Erune (and Harvin) physiology had always been as natural a part of the world as trees, oceans, mountains...to think that they might be considered unnatural elsewhere is a little jarring.

Maybe they'll be considered unnatural here too. None of the soldiers guarding them have animal ears, as far as he can tell.

It doesn't take much longer for him to finish up his "food", carefully picking out shards and then wiping the dregs away with the side of his thumb. (Somehow, he still can't bring himself to wipe his mouth with his sleeve.) Despite the meager filling of his stomach, he can feel both tiredness and the neverending torment inside him warring for control. Better to find something to distract himself with.

In this case it's movement, Eustace rising back to his feet in a slow, stiff manner, though he pauses before turning away completely. ]

Thanks. [ For the bone. There's definitely a joke to be made here but he's not going to be the one to make it. He hesitates a moment, and then adds: ] Be careful.

[ It's a bit of a stupid warning to give, but out of everyone here, he wants to see this man suffer the least. ]