Hideaway Strath [M] Offerings of Blood, Sweat and Tears
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Pack Activity 
This is a leadership thread for Vein as a Priest 

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This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning:  due to the religious sacrifice of a fawn. Please do not participate unless you are ok with these topics
 

The dark had long since swallowed the earth and in this darkness a large white shaman waited; he had lain still for hours un moving by the denning area of a deer, he might not have been able to to scent the fawn due to one of nature’s many tricks but he could smell the mother just fine.

Occasionally throughout the night the gentle changes of the wind brought the scent of the adult deer to him and still he did not move. The mother was not his target and finally in the wee hours before the dawn the mother left her denning area. The only movement beyond the mother deer’s was the toothy grin upon the priest’s maw. He waited for long minutes before asking long stiff cold muscles to pick his portly body up and move into the den. Sure enough there huddled in a makeshift nest was a tiny fawn, it barely bleated as the brute stood above it and picked it up. It’s legs flailed as he trotted away with his patiently won prize. This needed to be shared with the pack.

A proper offering to the gods for the spring solstice was long overdue. He moved swiftly toward his blood coated alter which lay somewhere between the Moonshadow Clearing and the Gathering rock in the center of the territory.

He set the fawn down and pinned it below his paw, it’s bleats were futile and possibly weaker then a fawn it’s age should be. Vein raised his head and howled long and loud he called to all whom would welcome the gods into their hearts.

He’d paint them all in the blood of the fawn  then he’d sacrifice the fawn as the first of dawn’s light broke the horizon. New blood was necessary for a new season.
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Ooc — Liv
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After two mothers had already given birth, the Strath was teeming with energy. Nyra felt it, as she was certain others did. 
Her belly was swelling more as the weeks passed, yet even now, as she heard the call of the Shaman, the Overseer headed his direction with silent purpose.

Upon her arrival, she stood before him with calm hellfire eyes. Her amber hues looked slowly from the tiny fawn to Vein with interest. 
"A ritual?" She guessed quietly. Not having previously good experience with these types of things, Nyra hesitantly decided it might be alright to ease back into it a little bit.
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Vein had mentioned the ceremony of the solstice, once not long after his arrival in the Strath. Much had occurred since to distract them both but even the streamlined sighthound of ivory had to admit that there was much to thank the gods for -- even if she was only just beginning to learn of them with Vein. There had been many hours during her seclusion in their dwelling to speak of the gods, and for Vein to show her how to worship them in the ways that the druids had shown reverence for their world. His dogma was the darker side of the coin but there was harsh truth in its realities; there was beauty in the gifts the gods had given her (a mate, love, the possibility of life stirring in her womb) and there was cruelty in what they asked in return. Blood, death, sacrifice.

She detoured from the gardens where she furrowed loam for their herbs when the howl sounded throughout the forest, stopping at a bend of slow roiling creekwater to gather a few stalks of soaproot. The midwife washed the dirt from the plant before placing it upon a damp, flat stretch of stone along the shores. A quick hunt along the rocky banks led her to select a good, fist-sized stone that would roll nicely beneath one's paw -- taking it gingerly in her maw to carry it over to the soaproot. The Priestess bent willow curves over the root, placing the stone atop it and straightened -- pausing to shake a few stray drops of water from her dripping auds of cloudtrail. Rolling the rock over the stalks, she crushed the saponin-rich plant to release the slippery juices within. After a moment, she nosed aside the rock and then gracefully dropped down onto her side to roll in the crushed flora not unlike a white mare. Once thoroughly coated in the homemade lather, she rose again with care not to slip on the leftover juice and treaded out to the middle of the stream. A few quick dunks and shakes of her pale pelt washed out the cleansing solution and the Saluki was satisfied that she had washed away most of the musky scents left in her coat from where she had been holed away consummating her marriage to the shaman. Though some wild, primitive aspect of her felt a thrill at the thought of leaving such a scandalous perfume upon her skin, she'd also been dirtied from her work in the fields. It would not do to show up to a celebration for the gods, unpurified and dirtied though Vein had often assured her that the gods held no shred of vanity -- assured and confident in their otherwordly beauty.

Despite the fact that the ice nymph stopped along the way to roll her drying coat in a patch of green-flushed clover, which left her silky plumage tangled with bits of spring and small blooms of violet, she was amongst the first to arrive. A warm smile graced her rosy lips as she trotted up to Nyra, bumping her temple against the other blanchard's shoulder -- though she had to strain a bit due to her short height. The Battle Phoenix was beginning to really show now, her snow-blanketed sides swelling with a cute, little baby bump. 

Aerin's emerald-kissed gaze lifted then to her mate, registering the baby fawn beneath his paw with a tic of motherly concern that was soon repressed when she thought of her own children (if they were truly in there, perhaps her last delivery had truly ruined her), and she felt a swell of pride as her gibeon moonstones greeted him with silent affection. Waiting and watching, The Priestess could feel her breath catch with anticipation, her limbs quivering occasionally with the charge of change that crackled in the air like electricity. 


"You see, I got a bullet for a tooth and
I'm gonna use it to shoot you."
Tha gràin agam air an t-saoghal
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Arlette had given birth. They had three children.
Mulberry, Tumeric, and Thyme.
He loved them with all his heart, save for the part Arlette has a reserved seat in.

He was getting a meal for her. She hadn't left the Chambers yet, but promised she would soon enough. He didn't mind as long as she felt safe. Perhaps he should deliver her a pelt too to make it cosier.
A howl radiated to him, a summons. Perhaps he could share the good news at the same time.

He showed up just behind Nyra. And what they beheld from the snowy pair was certainly a ritual of some sort. Spring had dawned on them quickly, so it was likely that.
He smiled to the pair. He wanted to be here for this. The fawn was flailing less and less. Perhaps it was good luck, spring time usually was for luck and prosperity.
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Vein is hoping to use the claw to create a small inconsequential wound on each wolf as they hold their paw over the skull sitting atop the altar if you are not ok with that please tell me and we'll figure something out. Feel free to power play him doing so.

Vein watched as wolves began to gather and he knew now that this pack would be strong and that the unborn pups present here and now would be stronger yet.

He was very very pleased, This was a good pack and a strong pack and he was more then pleased to have had the gods lead him here.

His deep voice took on a warm cadence “Welcome. There is a ritual to perform, one to invite the gods in. To give them strength as they give us strength. With them by our sides, We, our pack and our children
His eyes flicked to both Nyra and then Aerin’s bellies “Will be stronger, our food plentiful and our enemies weaker.
His eyes moved to Derg “If not anything else then we will enjoy basking in the presence of our pack and the gods
He smiled as the fawn below his paw bleated as if in agreement though it was more likely in response to the growing group of predators

He showed them the square stone behind them the one Vein had cleaned for this ritual. Upon the stone was an elk skull complete with antlers, the antlers hung over the stone mounting the skull to the rock. Below the alter in a large Wolf skull lined with a leaf to hold a very sweet smelling mead,  he moved to the alter, the fawn left unattended did not try to run as if it were to scared too, or just well trained by it’s mother to stay still

I will need to have you all bleed just a bit into Elk vessel” He tugged a wicked sharp cougar claw from around his neck mounted on a thin vine, lifting his paw he held it above the skull and in a quick practised motion he swiped it across the side of his leg just beside the dew claw and a few drops of blood fell into the skull as he held his paw hovering above the skull. “Then drink of the Mead,

He frowned, as he looked down at the mead laden skull his paw already beginning to clot and the blood flow stopping slowly “Well perhaps not the pregnant females, the others will have to drink more to make up for you
He smiled wickedly and winked at Derg. Then continued his explanation “I will bleed the fawn and add it’s blood to ours a mix of predator and prey, of Life and of Blood and Bone bound together. Then after I mark you all individually with the blood of the sacrifice and I properly give it’s heart to the gods. We must eat the sacrifice, We do this as the sun rises; we do not have much time

He shifted back to the fawn and placed his paw gently upon it’s back, eliciting another bleat from the creature “Aerin I’d like to know you you could hold the fawn above this Altar

His gaze fell to Aerin would she help him? He needed another to participate in the gods will. He needed an acolyte, he was worried deep down that the will of the gods might scare her, but he A H-meno’ob, A Shaman, A Priest must follow this path and if she could not walk at his side then.. It did not bare thinking of he needed both like he need air and blood to live.
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hella short post, sorry guys ;w;


Nyra listened as others arrived. 
Vein explained his ritual, and tentatively, Nyra nodded once in agreement. Stepping forward, she offered one of her forepaws to the shaman, allowing him to do what he needed and guide her paw to the bowl should he see fit. 

As long as he was both quick and gentle.
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"But if I live, I win,"
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correct me if I got anything wrong!



Aerin listened attentively, almost obediently with how she had curled her haunches neatly beneath her and raised auds of marble candyfloss alertly towards the altar as Vein detailed the ritual to follow. It was vaguely familiar to her, though it held different meaning now that she herself was pregnant, due to having heard the shaman explain the solstice ritual to Kynareth some several weeks ago. Still, she nodded along absently to the words, feeling again a wince of guilt for the unfortunate creature they had to sacrifice -- not enough that it would hinder her from participating though.

Which she was quick to demonstrate as she startled lightly, gibeon gaze moving to meet the Daykeeper's solar optics of molten gold -- lips parting vaguely in her surprise at being chosen to help lead the ceremony despite the fact that she had long since assumed a role of unofficial acolyte regarding the icebear's spiritual beliefs. 

She nodded, chirping a breezy "'appily," as she straightened, trotting up to stand at the altar by her mate's side. She pinned the small creature beneath her insubstantial weight gently, paw faintly caressing the velveteen hide of the spotted fawn in a soothing motion as she extended her other forepaw to Vein so he might nick her in a similar fashion for the mead mixture. She managed not to grimace at the sting of the cougar's claw, watching as her ruby droplets pooled and diluted within the golden alcohol before her husband sliced through the fawn's tender jugular to bleed it into the elk skull.
Aerin grimaced as the fawn bleated, feebly fighting beneath the midwife's paws. She felt the sting of guilty tears but blinked them away, jaw setting silently to hide any motherly nature for the sacrifice. She continued to hold the young ungulate in place over the skull as its lifeforce pooled into the skull and darkened the mead into the blackened  ruby of a forbidden wine, soothing it with soft sounds as it grew weaker.
Her gaze moved to Nyra and then Derg, silently urging them to hurry and offer their blood to the shaman before the fawn had slipped into the next realm or been carried off by Ixtab. 
"You see, I got a bullet for a tooth and
I'm gonna use it to shoot you."
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With Dergs permission I’m power playing him this round, No posting order just post when you can. Females do not need to drink the booze


Dawn broke the horizon, the sun instantly warming the backs of the gather wolves.

The H-meno’ob moved quickly, he did not like seeing the distress on the face of his beloved, but they gods now keenly aware of this ritual once it started and would not accept failure, They wanted their servants devoted and strong. He knew his wife to be tough and she’d not fail him he was prouder on her in this moment then he had even been of any other wolf.

Quickly he flicked the claw across the Fawn’s tendon allowing far more blood to fall from it then he’d need from any of the wolves, the red life’s fluid dripping into the pristine elk skull that contained only his blood so far. With a steady pat pat pat the blood dipped like a drum beat.

He wasted no more time and used the claw just above Nyra’s dew claw in a quick practised motion, he did not need much blood from each wolf. A few drops and he nodded for them to step back. He followed with the same motion of claw against Derg’s proffered leg, Then Aerin’s into both the elk skull of blood and the wolf skull of alcohol.



Then the shaman began a chant a low rhythmic rumble in a language none of the other’s knew, one that he realized he would need teach Aerin and any of their children. These words asked for the gods praise and glory to be bestowed upon their warriors and servants.

Vein touched his muzzle into the fawn still dripping blood noting how weak it was getting, but his movements were still measured and practised, he moved in time with the rhythm of his chant almost a dance of sorts with no movement of his body wasted.

The Shaman moved up to each wolf present and in turn attempted to paint the fawns blood across each wolf, both Nyra and Derg only if they allowed he’d smear the blood over their face like war paint. If they stepped away he’d moved on continuing his chant.
Lastly he moved to Aerin he added blood to her face then unlike the others to her chest and legs, repeating the process to himself.

Carefully he took the fawn from her and nodded his thanks, he flipped it onto his back on the altar next to the elk skull and cried up to the heaven “Gods! I give you Strength!” Vein called out and then in one more well practised move he snapped his powerful jaws into the chest of fawn and ripped out it’s still beating heart then placed it into the blood filled vessel

Drink our worthy sacrifice! And KNOW our devotion!” Slowly the heart stopped beating and he turned back to Nyra and Derg and Aerin.

We must celebrate and honour the gods!” He proclaimed with excitement lacing his Deep voice “We eat the body of the fawn and Drink the prepared alcohol,” He set the now still body next to the Wolf skull filled with the golden liquid, He dipped the claw he had bloodied them all with into the fluid and their mixed blood washed from the claw and dispersed into the golden hued drink, not enough to taint the sweet taste but enough to give it the strength of many.

He grinned at the gathering of wolves lapped his fill of the drink and pulled and leg free from the sacrificially fawn to eat and enjoy they were not to waste a scrap of the fawn.
"But if I live, I win,"
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The Priestess' cloudwisp ears perked curiously, head tilting aside just so as the words of Vein's native tongue graced her ears with their harsh, musical melodies -- grating and beautiful all at once. He had mentioned a word or two of the dialect in passing but Aerin reminded herself to ask about the language later, interested in learning more about her husband's culture. She was drawn back to the ceremony when the Bonesplinter stepped to her, the midwife glad to pass the waning fawn over to husband for slaughter -- lips moving in a silent prayer of her own to Ixtab for the tiny creature.

She dipped her head in acceptance, pale eyes shuttered by lids of snowfall and lashes of frost as they slid shut -- welcoming the sticky paint of the fawn's lifeblood as her husband bathed her in the same rubied streaks he was known for wearing. When her eyes opened, she moved to stop him -- stepping forward to press her muzzle to his shoulder. "Allow me," she suggested in whispered tones before reaching for the fawn's body, dipping her tapered muzzle in the dying grazer's blood and gathering a generous amount before liberally smearing it along her husband's broad form. Along the line of his muzzle's ivory bridge and beneath each golden eye, along the sweep of his pallid cheeks before sweeping some along the curve of his throat and down his chest. She swiped some along his forelegs and ribs before steeping away, satisfied with her handiwork.

She settled back on her haunches again, watching with wide eyes as Vein reached the climax of the ceremony and the moment she'd been dreading came -- her husband drawing back and plunging through the fawn's chest cavity to rip out its heart. To her credit, the Saluki's pale gaze didn't waver. Her breath shuddered as she drew in a quick, gasping inhale with the fawn's death but her eyes remained fixed on the sight, her chin drawing up a millimeter as she clenched her jaw in a projection of strength -- refusing to show how the sacrifice might have bothered her. 

It was the way of the world, she reminded herself. A cruel world but theirs all the same.

Though Aerin was unaware that is was dangerous for pregnant she-wolves to drink fermented beverages, Vein had already mentioned that they should abstain and she trusted her mate's judgement -- especially where it regarded anything related to caregiving. She left the mead to Vein and Derg, instead trotting forward to claim a chunk of the fawn's tender underbelly for herself. 
"You see, I got a bullet for a tooth and
I'm gonna use it to shoot you."
This is my art, and it is dangerous
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Ooc — Liv
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hella short post, but needed to respond to try to keep it moving lol
 


Instructions were given, words spoken. 
Before she knew it, it was time to eat.
Letting everyone else go first, Nyra eventually came forward and took a chunk of flank meat, retreating backwards to sink to the ground and begin to feast.
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last post

Vein helped to finish off any of the remains of the sacrifice, except that which was on the altar , then drank deeply from the wolf skull of booze. After a short time he stood and turned to the gather wolves his deep rich voice called out, though he did not need to speak nearly so loud since there were so few wolves here,

"A successful offering, Please enjoy the rest of the day, I will attend to the Altar in due course. Of course you may stay and help me sing so that the gods might hear it” He grinned and withheld a hic-cup then tipped his head back and howled a song, his head fuzzy from the drink. He sang more then a few songs that day.
This is my art, and it is dangerous
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Ooc — Liv
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exit for Nyra here! Short post though lol


Once everyone had eaten and drank their fill, Nyra perked her ears to catch Vein's words. With his dismissal, she dipped her head in a silent show of thanks, then trotted off to go find a nice place to nap.
Fury is in peak condition
Health (100/100)
Fury claims a +6 buff in all combat dice rolls