Beltane

[~Fletch~]

Okay, the rules for this thread are:
Only characters of a non-modern nature need join, e.g. medi-evil type.
OOC is allowed if only to make contacting other Rp'ers more easily.
Magic is definately allowed, however no-one can be completely invulnerable.

Here we go!

The beltane fires were lit. Torches blazing with fire decorated the large grove and ribbons hung from the branches of trees. Chains of flowers scenting the air were draped over thr women's shoulders, men were dressed in ceremonious robes of red. One male wore stag antlers strapped to his brow, a raiment of green velvet was his cloak and oak branches were secured to the bottom of his cloak so they rustled across the ground as he walked imitating the green man. The stone archway in the center of the grove was the only silent and ceremonious part of the area. It's stone pillars carved aeons ago with great and sturdy stokes of hammer and chisel. The stone rose blossoms on it's facets worn with age and ever blooming remained constant throughout the years, though the people may change and the trees may grow and die, it was the point of constancy.

The pagan rites had begun with the coming of the full moon. Wine was liberally drunk and couples now ventured from the fire to find a modest secluded area in which to do what they had come to do. The goddess reigned strong this day and she smiled down upon her people though they could not see her. She embraced their wildness, their fragility and humanity.

The moon danced behind clouds always remerging after, to shine down on the grove of dancers. A silent pathway suddenly became apparant as a small line of women dressed in white wearing garlands of ruby red flowers on their heads walked past, each holding a lit white tallow candle in their palms. A proudly dressed woman walked at it's head her robes were deep red, the neckline plunging, her seductive eyes encouraging the men who oggled her. She would have been in her mid fourties but as yet remained a beautiful woman.

With the raising of her hand the column halted and each white robe wearing maiden halted with her their eyes on her for guidance. She led them thrice widdershins through the archway whislt the hundreds of people watched.Then they stood in a circle around the archway whilst she stood in the center underneath it her hands held up to the sky in honour of the great rite that was renewed each Beltane, bringing with it, new members for the coven.

One of the 12 maidens stood watching her. Her face remained passive concealing the inner turmoil that flooded her young mind. She was 21 and as such was being initiated into the coven. This was just the bginning. She had shown ability at a young age and as such had always been intended for the coven, but now it was here she worried. The laws against the pagan people had been set and what they now did was considered illegal. Every shadow she felt contained hidden men in their red coats, waiting to come and capture them and take them to prison, or worse hang them in front of their own people. Were 12 girls now not waiting to joint the coven? Usually there was only 3 but now with their numbers becoming depleted and the need for more ot resist the King's decree they had decided to change the beltane rites and increase it to 12.

Trying to loosen her mind she looked aboutt he grove, her eyes passing the faces of the other soon-to-be coven members to the men and women who stood wathcing, their faces pulled into drunken smiles but for several who stood watching patiently, perhaps more interested in the actual reason for Beltane than most of the people who came simply to eat, drink assuage their needs for physical love.

The rite had ended and now the woman stood before her, "Do you take the oath to love and serve the goddess in all acts? To use her given powers wisely with the knowledge of the thirce-fold law?". "I take the oath in knowledge of all this". The simple words bound her fate as the keen athame peirced her finge and three red drops of blood fell into a small dish of earth the woman held under the cut finger.

"I welocme you to the coven". The last of the rite had been said, she was now of the coven and would live her life according to the Goddesses law. At least it was not constrctive like the laws some cultures undertook or so tshe had learned. She had freedom in all acts, but only to know that it would come back to you in some way or another. She walked over to a table bearing golden goblets of wine. She picked one up and turned, accidentally bumping into another who had walked behind her. The wine had spilt on them both, her white robes now stained a violet red. "Forgive me, I am so clumsy" she said with a blush.

[Scrasamax]

Many people would have said that Meredith was beautiful, but none of them would have said she was lovely. It was truth that her features were very fine, from the long auburn hair that hung to her waist, to the slightly upturned nose, to her pursed lips. Few men could resist a stare as she passed, tall with the strong shapely legs of a runner, and the breasts of a vigin goddess. But the coldness in her heart could wilt a rose, and the hardness in her eyes could drive a nail without a hammer.

She would have been one of the three chosen, indeed likely the first. She was intelligent as she was beautiful, her mind as sharp as a tongue, both of which could put a fine sword to shame. There was no doubting her dedication to the goddess, or the amount of effort she put into her studies with the wise ones.

She gave the woman a cold stare as the wine soaked through her white robes, plastering them against her flesh. The men close enough tos ee her gained an eyeful, as in the old way she was skyclad beneath the robe, and did not seek to hide herself beneath layers of wool cloth and cotton.

"I accept your apology." she said with a tone that said quite the opposite. "Perhaps you should pray to the goddess for grace?"

[Luke Lavin]

A mile of two down a howling wind and driving rains of a white squall blew up, that drove a small schooner through the wriling wavs into the trreacherous rocks of the cliffs not faf from where the ritual was taing place.  A sinlge Knight was aboard with a crew of twenty strong men but nothing they did.  The ships smashed into rocky spires wood shatered and timber broke.  

The Knight had only one hope, he stripped off his armor and kept only his sword such a possession was worth the risk. Then he calmed his thoughts and then tapping into the life force that permeates us all he took one long leap.  He cleared more than twenty feet and managed to grab a placement on the rocky cliffs.  But his ships and crew were doomed, everything was scattered on the high seas, there was nothing left.  Lady Deep was a cruel mistress today.  

The Knight used every fiber of his strength and every bit of his connection to the magical force that permeated life.  To climb to the top of the cliff.  When he reached the top he was utterly exhausted even though he could fires and hear singing not far of he had no strength to even stadn up from the edge.   His connection to the Current was utterly gone only a trickle seemed to be left.  He rolled away once from the cliff and passed out as the squall cleared up.

[Luke Lavin]

The Knight awoke some time later, shivvering and weak.  He stood slowly the sword he had tried to save was gone. Lost in the surf most likely he thought, he casted his eyes out to the see and could see half a dozen wrecks of his once grand armada.  The enemy had set upon their ships formt he south, on a strong gust that brought them on faster than though possible.  By then it was to late that had had simply to many mages with them and him to few.  

Three ships were sunk in quick succession by summoned lightining, two others were set afire, and the last his gat manage to nip away till their combined might had summoned a squall directly over their head. The Knight was dispossed he fely horrible, the deaths of his men galled him.  The only hope that remained was the little trickle of hte Current he could still feel, drawing on it he refreshed himself as much as he could and headed towards the sound of singing and dancing and the smell of food.  

He must of only been out a half hour maybe quarter past that.  The area marked by large stones.

[~Fletch~]

The now initiated coven member hung her head modestly. "I will do as you say". Everyone knew Meredith was the most probable to be next to fill the position of Mother. The woman who now fulfilled this position was named Narst and was rapidly becoming old and would soon become the Crone. Who would take the position of the maiden was yet to be discovered. Ebony hung her head refusing to meet the womans eyes knowing they would be cold and stern and hold great reprimand for her simple yet large mistake of clumsiness. "I apologise greatly M'lady" she said respectfully once again before looking up meekly to be met by exactly what she had imagined.

Ebony held the empty chalice with precaution her fingers twined around it's stem. "I will go". Ebony gave the woman one look before she left and it lacked any of the weakness her previous look had contained. Her eyes had bored back into the orbs of her superior as she said, "Blessed be". She walke doff quickly leaving the grove and it's merry light to retreat into the shadoews shutting out her ears to the noise of those intwined in the darkness.

Walking stolidly she realised she had neglected to put the chalice back on the table. With a small roll of her eyes in honour of her stupidity she continued onwards still holding it. She soon found herself within the roar of the waterfall at the large pool withint their borders. She had alwasy found the waterfall a poweful place. She made her way to the waters edge and filled the chalice with the fresh liquid to see the moons reflection smiling back at her from it's surface. She gave a small sigh and sent a silent prayer to Kerridwen, maiden, mother and crone of all that she could rediscover what had led her down the path to the coven. She felt lost among them all, the responsibility hanging heavy on her shoulders.

She tipped the water gently back into it's counterpart before beginning to trudge back up the small and well worn path. Once back in the forest only a short way from the grove she heard a small sound that could not have come from any wild animal. "Hello?" she asked curiously, absentmindedly touching the pentacle that hung at her throat.

[Scrasamax]

Meredith trudged across the rougher terrain outside of the circle of stones, ready to grind stones into meal with her teeth. It was bad enough that the a fellow initiate had dumped wine all over her, but the Crone had taken her aside and chastised her for the sin of pride. Words were niceties, and the intent behind them was what really mattered. The crone had told her to find Ebony and give her a real apology. Inside she knew the withered old woman was right, and she sought after the Ebony, heading in the last direction she had seen her.