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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Interactive Quest  - Night Triumphant-

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Played by Offline Staff [PM] Posts: 309 — Threads: 165
Signos: 989,640
Official Novus Account
#1


the darker the night, the brighter the stars

On the night where the moon is fullest and high in the sky, the Order would convene once again to welcome new initiates into their ranks.  They would come cloaked in darkness, hidden from scrying eyes, little more than nameless shadows in the night.  The Brothers were few and proud – warriors committed to Caligo – summoned to her side as guardians and companions.  They were unnamed and uncelebrated – faceless...  Each existed only as Caligo’s vassals, trading their lives of luxury for one of servitude.  Tonight, the next generation would rise to stand with Caligo.  Tonight, they would take their oath and join the Brotherhood of the Night’s Order.

It is a night for wonder and reverence, where the moon is bright, bathing the world below in an otherworldly silver light.  Night creatures hushed and strayed from this place, leaving nothing but blinking stardust and sallow moonlight to guide the initiates onward.  As they climbed Veneror Peak, each recruit would find the anticipation growing.  They would hear the whispers of generations past, urging them forward through the darkness, urging them toward something more than themselves - to purpose and to duty.

Caligo’s temple stands like a beacon in the moonlight, dark and ominous with rising towers of obsidian and onyx stretching like an outstretched hand toward the heavens.  In its grasp, it holds the moon, silver light filtering through an open dome to shine upon the simple, dark interior.  In a way, the minimalist nature of the temple mirrors the brothers of the Order themselves.  Stripped of frills, Caligo’s shrine is an imposing picture of efficiency and honor.  It does not need a gilded or jeweled throne to command reverence.  Instead, there is beauty in the simplicity of Caligo’s house of worship.  

Around the temple edges, the Brothers of Caligo’s Order stand.  They make a striking statement, watching with dark eyes as her recruits filter into the temple in silence.  There is no sound except the quiet shuffle of feet against onyx… for though tonight marks the initiation of the few, there would be no celebration or fanfare.  Tendrils of wind play with the shadows, embracing each stallion as he enters this holy place, as if the breezes can see within their soul.  In the darkness, they stand in orderly rows, one beside the next, faces trained skyward.  

For a moment, nothing changes… but then, shadows build within the temple, drowning out the moonlight as an eerie hum rises from the Brothers.  Door swing closed, shadows part, and in their place a single orb of silver light rises from the shadows.  Its luminosity is matched only by the soft glow from crescent sigils on each shoulder, growing stronger with each ebb of the pulsing hum.

The ceremony has begun… is Tenebrae ready to take his place among the Stallions Who Swallowed the Sun?






It is the darkest night of the year, and the brothers have gathered to welcome in the new as they reaffirm their dedication to their goddess. Is @Tenebrae ready to join them?

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This Enchantment quest was written by the lovely @Firefly. <3

Enjoy!






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Played by Offline Obsidian [PM] Posts: 189 — Threads: 28
Signos: 110
Night Court Battlemage
Male [Him/his/he]  |  Immortal [Year 500 Summer]  |  16.3 hh  |  Hth: 37 — Atk: 43 — Exp: 74  |    Active Magic: Shadow-Forging  |    Bonded: Thia (Shadow-creature)
#2

T  E  N  E  B  R  A  E

On my body, the grace of shadows
and in my heart: all Hells


 


They said it was something akin to dying when Caligo blessed an initiate, marking them a Disciple. It was everything they were made for. It was everything they had trained for. 


Yet it was nothing they could ever, truly, prepare for.


They all gathered, where darkness billows, in the thin place where divinity and mortality meet, in the edges of Caligo’s sacred temple. Veneror is quiet about them, cradling them deep within her core where magics bloom wild and free. 


Tenebrae is young, his body bearing the dark half moon sigils. He has watched, so greedily, for many years, the elder monks with their glowing half-moon sigils. The boy has waited for this day, the one moment that tips him from a colt into a stallion. A simple citizen of Denocte transformed into one of her monks. 


They make him swear. Oh they make him swear so many things. His vows are bold upon his tongue. He has known for the last three years, each and every vow he will take. He has ruminated upon them in the darkest moments of the night. He has never for a moment thought that he would struggle, that his wayward nature would overwhelm him. Reckless is he as he speaks his vows, his dark eyes twinkling with the fire of the stars. How many times had the elder monks warned of the challenges, the temptations that awaited him? That his life would be full of remembering what it meant to kneel before Caligo and pledge his life to her.


But he is a boy, young and reckless. A man upon the first rung of adulthood. He has a long climb and his ladder is broken and tattered, its grips lined with oil. Everything is set to make him fall. He just does not know how far and how hard it will be. He does not yet know how changed he will become.


Caligo knows.


And yet she presses the black of her magic into him. It is black flames that scold his insides, that purge from him every part of his soul that is not Dencotean. He hears the screams of other boys, as her magic splits them apart. As their shadowed sigils burn open, open like maws parting, reaching greedily up to swallow the starlight. Tenebrae feels the same pain, yet it is his eyes that burn the most. Already their lovely dark, their chocolate warmth is gone. They turn milky grey and then they burn with all the starfire that his new magic swallows from the stars.


Now he knows the agony of what it is to be a monk. Now he knows the price of his vows and slowly he begins to think that his debt might not yet be paid. With his new white eyes, glowing through the shadows that begin to seep out from his soul, he stares at the sombre gazes of the other monks. 


“A prayer,” The Commander declares whilst all the boys are still screaming, sweating, sobbing. Darkness pools, it whispers soothing words in the new monks’ ears, presses its cooling magic like palms against their wet skin. “We give thanks to Caligo for our new monks.”


And all of Tenebrae’s tongue is dry. The words stick and do not fall. He does not pray. He does not give thanks.



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Word count:555



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