04-26-2011, 07:29 AM
yheiii 
slight pp to move it along hope you don't mind
800+ 10 points
Note to all: Jace is not actually performing magic or calling forth true demons, she is engaging in a rite that was performed in her native pack, any reaction from the elements are purely coincidental which Jace believes to be a sign from the 'demons'
Again she listened to his words, he wished her to help gather supplies to start the fire that would burn his head, in her tribe this would have been a great honor to bestow upon a person, to ask them to help burn the head of an enemy and Jace felt some kind of stirring and remembering in her cold dead heart as she set to the task given to her, collecting wood and tinder brush. As she picked up each stick or piece of brush she murmured words in the language of the north, they were supposed to be spells and prayers to their God of Fire that would help their fire burn hot and for a long time as such was necessary to survive up in the arctic during harsh summers and even harsher winters.
She returned with what she had collected and helped the Alpha of this territory to arrange them in the required manner, then she stepped back as he brought out his flint to start the fire with. Jace moved to sit down near the pile of twigs, rocks and brush, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them remembering her past. Many a time she and her sister had trekked out a few days walk from wherever the pack had settled and started up their own fire and watched the lights that flashed across the night's sky, keeping together for warmth and comfort. Jace felt a hot flash of anger rising up he throat, the pack would pay one day she would make sure of it and she wouldn't leave any survivors.
Shawchert fiddled with his flint and Jace continued to stare into nothing before a flurry of activity had hr looking up, a bird had left its perch and was flapping hurriedly as it realised it was falling rapidly towards two predators. The bird's angry squawks brought her out of her trance like state and Jace instead focused on the necklaces that adorned her throat, Argul had taken Shawchert's young just as that patrol had taken Lily's young, Jace's sister Elsie. Looking again to the sky that was now swirling with angry blues and greens and greys, Jace whispered again in the language of her people to the demons that she knew were watching with eager eyes and hands,
"Demons of the North, hear my plea, take the soul of this murderer of the young, innocent and vulnerable. Take it and give him the punishment he deserves for all of eternity, the punishment that could not be delivered in life but will stretch on in death. As a sacrifice I give you the fur from my body and the blood that runs in my veins." Jace grasped some of the white fur of her chest and pulled it from its place on her breast allowing it to scatter to the air and be blown around by the winds, next she sliced open the skin at her wrist allowing the crimson liquid to well up and then drip down through her fur and land onto the ground. As her blood touched the ground the wind suddenly seemed to pick up even more violently, tugging at her fur and hair making it twist and turn in the air. Jace closed her eyes and sucked in a breath through her nose, the demons had agreed to her request and from the feel of it were eager to get started on Argul's punishment as only demons could perform. The wind blustered against her and she swore she could almost here their voice whispering in her ears, 'hurry hurry child of the arctic, the guilt ones soul awaits for us, time passes and yet we are still hungry.'
She looked at Shawchert who was still fussing about with his flint and was surprised at how little time had passed, only about thirty seconds it had taken her from the start of her prayer to the end and her sacrifice to the demons of the north. Observing the man with her mismatched eyes Jace decided to tell him a little of the tradition that she was showing here,
"In my birth pack it is believed that upon the death of the body the soul that occupies the whole of the body congregates to the head so to stay all together and travel onto the afterlife in one piece. But before that can happen if the head of the fallen or enemy is not burned then the souls of the deceased stay trapped within the head for two summers and winters so that the body can truly return to nature before the soul can pass on, usually if left whole the souls of the enemy will cause bad luck and misfortune to befall any and all nearby. If the head is detached from the body and burned though the souls are forced to move on into the arms of the demons that await them." The woman lapsed into silence.
slight pp to move it along hope you don't mind800+ 10 points
Note to all: Jace is not actually performing magic or calling forth true demons, she is engaging in a rite that was performed in her native pack, any reaction from the elements are purely coincidental which Jace believes to be a sign from the 'demons'
Again she listened to his words, he wished her to help gather supplies to start the fire that would burn his head, in her tribe this would have been a great honor to bestow upon a person, to ask them to help burn the head of an enemy and Jace felt some kind of stirring and remembering in her cold dead heart as she set to the task given to her, collecting wood and tinder brush. As she picked up each stick or piece of brush she murmured words in the language of the north, they were supposed to be spells and prayers to their God of Fire that would help their fire burn hot and for a long time as such was necessary to survive up in the arctic during harsh summers and even harsher winters.
She returned with what she had collected and helped the Alpha of this territory to arrange them in the required manner, then she stepped back as he brought out his flint to start the fire with. Jace moved to sit down near the pile of twigs, rocks and brush, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them remembering her past. Many a time she and her sister had trekked out a few days walk from wherever the pack had settled and started up their own fire and watched the lights that flashed across the night's sky, keeping together for warmth and comfort. Jace felt a hot flash of anger rising up he throat, the pack would pay one day she would make sure of it and she wouldn't leave any survivors.
Shawchert fiddled with his flint and Jace continued to stare into nothing before a flurry of activity had hr looking up, a bird had left its perch and was flapping hurriedly as it realised it was falling rapidly towards two predators. The bird's angry squawks brought her out of her trance like state and Jace instead focused on the necklaces that adorned her throat, Argul had taken Shawchert's young just as that patrol had taken Lily's young, Jace's sister Elsie. Looking again to the sky that was now swirling with angry blues and greens and greys, Jace whispered again in the language of her people to the demons that she knew were watching with eager eyes and hands,
"Demons of the North, hear my plea, take the soul of this murderer of the young, innocent and vulnerable. Take it and give him the punishment he deserves for all of eternity, the punishment that could not be delivered in life but will stretch on in death. As a sacrifice I give you the fur from my body and the blood that runs in my veins." Jace grasped some of the white fur of her chest and pulled it from its place on her breast allowing it to scatter to the air and be blown around by the winds, next she sliced open the skin at her wrist allowing the crimson liquid to well up and then drip down through her fur and land onto the ground. As her blood touched the ground the wind suddenly seemed to pick up even more violently, tugging at her fur and hair making it twist and turn in the air. Jace closed her eyes and sucked in a breath through her nose, the demons had agreed to her request and from the feel of it were eager to get started on Argul's punishment as only demons could perform. The wind blustered against her and she swore she could almost here their voice whispering in her ears, 'hurry hurry child of the arctic, the guilt ones soul awaits for us, time passes and yet we are still hungry.'
She looked at Shawchert who was still fussing about with his flint and was surprised at how little time had passed, only about thirty seconds it had taken her from the start of her prayer to the end and her sacrifice to the demons of the north. Observing the man with her mismatched eyes Jace decided to tell him a little of the tradition that she was showing here,
"In my birth pack it is believed that upon the death of the body the soul that occupies the whole of the body congregates to the head so to stay all together and travel onto the afterlife in one piece. But before that can happen if the head of the fallen or enemy is not burned then the souls of the deceased stay trapped within the head for two summers and winters so that the body can truly return to nature before the soul can pass on, usually if left whole the souls of the enemy will cause bad luck and misfortune to befall any and all nearby. If the head is detached from the body and burned though the souls are forced to move on into the arms of the demons that await them." The woman lapsed into silence.