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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 1:44:26 GMT
"And through all this," the priest asks, showing no particular reaction to your story, "you wish to serve Galadrin more than you already have?"
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 1:46:24 GMT
"Yes, Merchant," I say. "When I sold myself, I did it to honor Iritari's sacrifice, to honor Galadrin, and now, now I wish to become a Mariner, if it is not too presumptuous to ask. I love magic, but... I belong to Galadrin now."
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 1:48:08 GMT
"To become a priestess, you must be washed away of your past. You must bathe in the waters of Galadrin... though the rivers are frozen."
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 1:53:06 GMT
"I shall," I say. "If it means that I must cut through the ice with my nails."
My mind sets to work immediately. This is a practical puzzle, a problem to solve, and if I used several of the Smoldering Kiss logs, it should melt a section of the ice enough for me to reach the icy and flowing waters underneath.
"Or the sea... The sea was still not frozen when I saw it. Of course, we are very far from the sea, but I would go there on my knees if I must."
My mind seizes on another thought. Why is the sea not frozen? It ought to be...
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 1:55:23 GMT
The priest stands. "We must melt part of surface ice of the river in order to perform the rite of ordination. You will spend a day in prayer and fasting, and then find me on the stone bridge."
You do so. [WIS check]
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 1:56:18 GMT
(I made it exactly)
I obey.
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 4:18:36 GMT
You are able maintain a perfectly composed and reverent vigilance before Galadrin until the priest, whose name is Árón, you've learned, comes to collect you.
Again he smiles at you. "Are you prepared to submerge yourself to the will of Galadrin just as you must submerge your naked body into the icy waters of the river?"
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 6:13:24 GMT
"Yes, Merchant," I say. "I am prepared. I have given my will and myself to Galadrin, if it will please him to accept me."
Is there any time for smaller chatting? I somehow find myself wanting to tell Merchant Árón all the little details of my travels...
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 6:45:25 GMT
You are led outside into the night and cold and onto the bridge where Árón has a rope ladder hanging from the middle of the bridge going down to the ice of the river. "Nake thyself, postulant, and descend into Galadrin's water. And may he accept you as you are."
There is no hole in the ice, however, so you would have to find a way into the water yourself. Árón offers no help.
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 6:49:32 GMT
I am not physically strong enough to cut through it. Would Mairwyn's Smoldering Kiss manage it?
As I ponder the question, I strip myself, bare to the sky and the wind.
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 6:52:40 GMT
Your magic would certainly melt the ice in a circle if the logs were laid in a circle. You stand naked in the biting night wind before Árón, and he cannot help but admire your glowing skin in the blue moonlight. He says nothing, though. This is your task, your decision.
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 6:55:11 GMT
So I move as quickly as I can, making a small circle of logs, which I enchant, and lay them on the ice.
I blush under Merchant Árón's admiration, but I do not speak of it to him, either.
If only Iritari could have met this Merchant with me!
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 6:56:48 GMT
[CON check]
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Post by Storyteller on Jan 25, 2021 6:57:42 GMT
(Made it by half!)
I set my jaw. It is bitterly cold, but my heart burns for Galadrin.
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Post by Diocles on Jan 25, 2021 7:05:06 GMT
You are Elunian, and though you were raised at the Academy, you spent enough time visiting your home isles--and besides you have Elunian blood coursing through you!--so you are able to endure the cold, the ice, the freezing water as it flows past your skin, stealing your breath from your lungs. Árón stands over you, on the bridge, and chants the lines of ordination, and you then leap from the river with an exuberant laugh. You are no longer a mage but a priestess of the god of the sea!
Árón wraps you in a heated body towel, sweeps you up in his strong arms so that your feet don't freeze on the snowy blocks of stone, and takes you back into the Hooded Falcon.
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