Vardama Ritual

Stories of the strangeness of this house go back quite a number of decades, even a century or two, but the most it had ever needed was a blessing from any priest. However, with the recent activity, and now the discovery of a necromantic circle in thSe basement, it has become all hands on deck in order to remove it and assure that the house and it's occupents will not longer be bothered by the undead.

Going through the individuals that would be good for this sort of task, it is up to those who follow Vardama to cleanse this home. Those selected were required to go through a ritual cleansing to make sure they were ready to battle whatever evil may come while undoing a very old evil. At the appointed hour on the appointed day, you all arrive and are allowed entry into the home by the Paladins of Serrelite that were left to guard the home and assure no further undead make their way inside, or outside for that matter.

The basement itself is pitch black with no natural light source of it's own, and the only way in through the secret door that the last set of adventurers found. Once light is provided, the circle can be easily seen and those with a magical eye can tell it is old, and recently woken up. Along the wall are other ritualistic items for raising the dead and conjuring incorporeal undead, all covered in cobwebs and dust inches thick from the countless years of neglect. The only footprints in the dust have been from the adventurers and a few elder priests that determined what sort of cleansing ritual was needed for the job.

Thump. Kerbasy rubs at his forehead, and begins to wriggles his fingers. A quick prayer to the Lady, an offering of incense--and light flares over the Sign of Triangles. His other hand continues rubbing his forehead. "Heh. I hadn't expected to run into..." he looks up at what he'd smacked into. "...uh, those. Now--" and his voice fades off at the sight of what's in the basement, and his features harden behind the geek-glasses he often wears.

Bennet keeps his rifle in hand as he eyes around the basement, fairly sure nothing is going to jump out at him, but wanting to be ready, just in case. "So I'm right 'Plan B' remains dropping a few kegs of powder down here, right?" A light flickers at the Absolution's waist, the heatless magical flame offering light without burning the belt it's clipped to.

Naturally, Boshter is here. He seems to be doing whatever it is Kerbasy asks of him. He's actually something approaching solemn for a change! How about that.

Namira looks to Kerbasy as she completely forgoes the cloak she was wearing to conceal her features, and boldly stands along with kerbasy. She gives a look to Boshter, but her sword is drawn, mostly to provide a defense, in case something decided to attack. She's never too careful, this Mul'niessa.

Rhodes comes in as well, having been asked to help at the ritual, carrying supplies for the elder priest to lead in it. He sets the chest down to the side of the room, not near the ritual circle though, careful to not touch it. "I hope not," the half-elf says to Bennet. "I don't even know if that would even fix it."

Bennet shrugs lightly. "Iffen ya turn the rocks to dust, the circle drawn on them tends to have a hard time. Not the best of solutions, mind ya. Sorta why we're trying this way first."

Kerbasy unslings a pack. Old and scratched, the fact that it's made of leather-hide is the only reason it's survived. It drops to the earth with a scuff. "I hadn't expected it to be this bad," he says. Then pauses, "Well, heh. I had, I guess. Usually they just send a priest and a Chord," he nods to Boshter, "to close it up. Or one of the Lancers," he adds. He crouches down then, to unbuckle the pack, and whatever's inside it.

"Well! If there are any undead, I promise the safety of the priests conducting the ritual. They will get appropriately handled!" HE nods his head, Boshter does. He's looking around with a gret deal of concern and caution.

Namira says, "If it's a mystical circle, I don't think it'll be that easy to break. We may need to break the circle mytically as well as physically." She then looks to Boshter, and smiles. "The fact that a Chord AND the Absolution are here means it's pretty bad. Keep your guard up. Mourner, what would you has us do?""

Bennet shrugs again. "So use a mythical amount of powder. Anyway, we'll do our best to make this work first." He glances to Kerbasy, ready and willing to take his ques from the senior member.

The elder priestess to lead this, Mourner Jillian, an old and severe woman that has been around at this temple for quite a number of decades, follows in. "We never expect things to be as bad as they really are, Mourner Kerbasy. Unfortunately, reality likes to kick us in the ass." She's at that age where an older person can get away with nearly anything she wants. There is a look to Boshter, "And this is why you are here Chord Boshter, and to lend us your unique strength, and continue attoning for that unsanctioned competition." She looks at everyone and gives a nod. "We must prepare." She directs the three other Mourners to gather up incense, the chest Rhodes carried in had plenty, as well as holy water and assure each had a khopesh, the Lady's blessed weapon. "For you three," she looks to Bennet, Namira and Boshter. "Draw your weapons, you will be the first line of defense against any attacks the circle may unleash, in the mystical and physical sense."

By now he has the pack open. Kerbasy takes out a few items--a silvered vial and a long, silvered khopesh. His features turn to a shy sort of joy as he handles the weapon, and as he stands, he buckles it on. Quickly. In his case it's more ceremonial. His weapons are prayers; not a Chord's training. The vial vanishes into his palm, where many a danish and chedder biscuit have gone before.

Namira lowers her head and leans her swords against her thigh while she puts her hair into a ponytails. 'Yes, Mourner." She says softly as she whispers a prayer to the lady while she puts her hair up.

Bennet nods, checking his own equipment once again. Gun, knife, armor. It isn't much, but it's worked thus far. "Watch your ears. In best of lucks, ain't nothing gonna happen. More likely, gonna get loud." Thunderbelchers aren't exactly known for being a quiet weapon.

Verna is rather quiet in the shadow of Mourner Jillian. She is brusque and direct, so there is little need for comment nor allowance for addendum. Verna is also, most assuredly in her mind, not a first line of defense, so she collects her share of incense and prepares herself more mentally than physically.

Jillian makes sure everyone has their supplies, and gets the incense lit so it was nice and smoking for the three other Mourners. "Now, take up positions equidistant from one another, and Absolutions, and Chord, set yourselves between them. The Mourner to your right is your responsibility. The incense may be put on the ground, but do not touch the lines of the circle. The circle must be broken as one, and I will tell you when."

Rhodes gathers up his items and finds a place to stand that fits into the triangles they are setting up. He looks to Kerbasy and Verna, before looking to his left, to see who it will turn out to be guarding him.

Namira picks her sword up and walks over to Kerbasy's left side, forming a 'sort of' triangle with Boshter and Bennet.

Bennet nods, and does as instructed. Close combat isn't exactly hsi thing, but you do what you must.

Kerbasy scrubs his hands quickly, with his own vial. He smiles--it's a small, automatic smile. Not one of those Everything Will be Alright, or Let Us Bless The Kittens he's trained to, but something more--I'm smiling because I'm too distracted to do anything else. I'm smiling because I'm at the site of one of Her enemies and Something Could Go Very Wrong. So that's why he smiles. That's why his fingers twitch and he reaches for the comforting cheese bagel that isn't there. He nods to the Absolution and takes the indicated place, smile in place, and makes the Sign of Triangles in front of him. "Lady guide and bless."

Boshter studies for a moment. THen Jillian get a nod from him.

"Bless us," he agrees, quietly, more than happy to take up a position an prepare himself. He's moved into position to portect Rhodes, of course, hands folded together neatly behind his back. His entire body has gone tense.

Verna's final preparations are utterances. The first is an echo of the others' call for blessing. The Harsh Lady's help will be paramount. The second is a more personal phrase, a focus of her own will. A shimmer of magical shielding manifests about her before fading from sight. Her help is paramount, but not the end all, be all. Varadama aids those who aids themselves.

Jillian watches everyone set up and then goes around and gives each of the six a lit candle, gray in honor of their lady and the place between life and death. "We are each a beacon of light to the living and to the dead. To those who have lost their way, let us lead them home to the Lady's embrace. May they see the light of these candles, and the light within our souls and use us to find their way. To those trapped, may we release the bonds that hold them. Let our power gathered here undo that which has been done, and prevent it from happening it again. May the Gray Lady bless us and protect us as we fight to dispel this evil." She intones invocation, a statement for each candle she hands over. Just off to the side, her tone changes to instruction, "If you must defend yourself, you are free to drop the candle."

Bennet nods, double checking his things one more time as he murmurs a soft prayer. "Lady, may my hand be swift and my eye be true. May harm come to those who seek harm on me and mine. And should day be the day I fall, may it be with a pile of spent brass at my feet. Amen."

Kerbasy accepts his candle, and repeats the intonation as it hits the air. He holds it carefully, and his fingers only twitch once.

"Grey Harpist. Please guide my sword to allow those who have their bodies used after death, find peace. Please protect us while we sanctify this place from dark magic and allow their spirits to rest." She then takes the lit candle in her left hand and holds it before her. "May this candle be a beacon for those wayward souls into your embrace, Grey Harpist, as well as my own, should I fall."

Boshter, of course, has his fists at the ready. He seems quite intent on that. "...unsactioned compettion," he can be heard to mumble on account of, you know, not exactly being thrilled he still has to atone for it. But he /is/ eing serious, at least. No headbutts today, folks!

Verna takes her candle and holds it aloft while crouching to adjust the incense well clear of the edge of the circle.

Rhodes accepts the candle and takes a deep breath. "Guide us and protect us," he intones after taking it. He takes a look at all the others, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly to relax and prepare himself.

"Then let us begin." Jillian nods when it seems everyone is ready and has said their personal prayers. She then changes tone and starts to speak in a beautiful, complex language. Closing her eyes, she raises up her hands as she speaks. By her tone it is as if she is calling upon something, a power beyond them as a quiet settles over the room. It is as if everything there is listening to what she is saying, and waiting for an answer.

Boshter really has no idea what the priestess is saying. He had enough trouble learning how to speak trade, let alone Draconic. But as the speech continues in that lovely language, he can't help but get more tense. It's like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hopefully, nothing spooks the guy.

Kerbasy shifts. He looks uncomfortable as the Mourner begins to speak, and shifts once or twice. He holds the candle however, that same, small smile there. That same smile that now has an edge of worry, and strain there. It's just showing more, now, and the back of his robe is damp where he's sweat.

Namira takes a deep breath to relax herself. She didn't need to tense up to be combat ready. Of course, the way she was trained, if you relax while fighting someone, you'll last a lot longer than he will, and he'll make mistakes. Relaxing beforehand also meant you would hear more things than your own heartbeat.

Bennet seldom understands what priestly types are talking about anyway. He's just a simple gunman. But he hold his candle and waits quietly.

Verna is torn between her two foci with the sounds of the melodic language. One part realizes the significance and seeking of divine intervention from her Lady. The other attempts to separate subject and predicate and discern verb conjugation of the tongue she can not yet speak or fully follow.

Rhodes listens to the summoning, the gathering of powers to combat this evil. But he stares at the circle, and the light in his hands, through the smoke of the incense that is filling the room.

As Jillian continues to speak, the light dims slowly in the room, but looking around it's not as if the lanterns that is providing most of the light are going out, but being covered, by no one. Soon the only light are the six candles, which one can see the other five. No one can see Jillian, but everyone can hear her voice, clear as a bell. Even the light of the six candles doesn't shine very brightly, only illuminating the faces and chests of the six holding them. Something is listening.

Kerbasy looks uneasily at the circle and the objects present. His throat tightens and his mouth firms. The thin Mourner concentrates. The candle holds steady. ...and there are still no damned biscuit rolls in his pockets! Or bacon.

Bennet holds steady. He doesn't know what's going on, or what all this means. But he trusts that the others do, and that's good enough for him.

The dimming of the lights doesn't bother Boshter has much. HE does, after all, have pretty good vision in the dark, but he maneuverws himself close enough to Rhodes that it might be reassuring. Or nerve wracking. He's close to Boshter, after all.

You paged Namira with 'Actually, even with darkvision you can't see anything, it's a magical darkness. Can't see the floors, the walls, nothing but what the six candles are showing.'

Verna can normally see well in the dim, but this is not a normal situation. She concentrates on the light she can see, even if it may soon be only the candle she holds.

Boshter is frowning now, of course. Normally, he too can see well. ANd when he realizes he can't, his expression as illuminated by the candle is growing more troubled. It's a warning, that expression.

Namira can usually see very well in darkness, but the fact that she can't see anything but the candles troubles her. She doesn't say anything, but her look mirrors Boshters.....'Trouble'.

Bennet doesn't typically see in the dark. So not seeing in the dark now doesn't really bother him. The dark itself is a bit unsetteling, however.

Kerbasy closes his eyes, and focuses on the candle in front of him. At one point, his glasses begin to slide down his nose. He works on ignoring them, and focusing on his breathing, his faith, and the faint, fire-scent of the candle.

Rhodes looks concerned as he looks at each of the others, nervous about all of this and what is going to happen. This isn't normal... at least he doesn't think it is.

As the words continue to call out, now the circle before each of them begins to glow, a sickly green light. There is pulsing, like a slow heartbeat as with each pulse the light glows stronger and stronger. As it shines the others can be seen, but nothing beyond. There is still no floor, no walls, just the darkness and the six with their candles. The light from the candles seems to fight against the light of the circle. There is a sound though, soft and as if in the distance, like a wind.

Namira takes a deep breath and watches this. She knew this wasn't good, but she didn't voice it. She was too busy trying to see if she could see what was coming out.

Bennet focuses. Not taht he wasn't focuses before, but he does better with a 'bad guy' to direct his attention towards. A glowy green circle isn't his typical sort of foe, but this is hardly a typical sort of situation.

Kerbasy opens an eye. He can't help it. It doesn't do him any good--the candle's light extinguishes quickly beyond its small sphere. He closes them again, and sweating, continues his vigil!

Boshter dare not say anything, but his eyes are closed now. He's relying on his finely tuned reflexe to tell him what he has to do... and when. He is mouthing quiet prayers. Vardaman prayers, of course.

Verna splits her gaze between the light of the candles and the dubious luminescence of the circle. She cannot join with Jillian in a literal sense, but she can call upon her Mistress for aid. Verna puts voice to prayer, possibly some of the same that Boshter mouths.

Namira does not close her eyes. She begins to mouth prayers as well, but she doesn't close her eyes. She can hear just fine without closing her eyes.

Rhodes looks around the area, holding the candle firmly in his hand. "You all hear that, right?" he asks in a whisper though. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself, tries to center himself. Stay strong, don't lose faith, don't lose hope.

The wind starts to get stronger and closer, and soon everyone can feel it. It starts as a breeze, but then gathers strength as it blows. Jillian's words can still be heard, but the wind is starting to drown her out. Among the wind as it buffers everyone, there is a more solid force coming from behind, something that grabs at Verna's leg, something getting Kerbasy's arm, and one at Rhodes's head. Spectral hands can be seen at each of these places, with a sickly glow of their own. <OOC> Typhoon says, "From my three defenders, just roll me an attack with your weapon if you are going to defend your cleric"

GAME: Namira rolls weapon1: (13)+8: 21

GAME: Bennet rolls 1d20+8+1: (16)+8+1: 25 to typhoon

GAME: Boshter rolls 1d20+14: (4)+14: 18

<OOC> Typhoon says, "And all three of you succeed in chasing away the weird hand things. Go ahead and pose accordingly."

Verna is focused, she is firm. She did not expect something unseen to grab at her leg. Startled, she calls out, "Something in the wind!" Even as she tugs and shakes her leg to try and free it from the unknown assailant.

Bennet still isn't real sure what's going on, but there's one thing he quite understands. Something is trying to hinder the person he's supposed to protect. that's going to end very poorly for that 'something'. Aiming is slightly difficult with a candel in one hand, but the rifleman manages well enough. "Ears." he offers, by way of warning.

KA-DOOM!

The rifle flashes, the smoke clears, and the ghostly hand is gone. And for the record, kids, never point a gun at another person's leg, not even to shoot off a ghostly hand. Leave that to the professionals.

Kerbasy twitches when the thing brushes by. He can't help it. No matter what you do, it's still--you fear Thul. If you're smart, you fear Him. He grips the candle, and chants LOUDER.

As the spectral hands snake forward, Namira looks down and swings her sword in a wide arc to cause the hand to vanish from Kerbasy's leg. She sontinues to hold onto her candle too.

Rhodes gasps loudly as he suddenly finds something at his throat. His free hand goes up to try and pull it away, but he cannot, and his breathing is hindered by it, more like stopped entirely as he attempts to get the thing off of him. His candle wavers as he does so, daring to go out in the struggle.

SPectral hands.

Boshter knew something ike that was going to happen. He's immediately lashing out, stomping, kicking, nd punching at the target nearest him. The ones reaching for Rhodes' head, of course. "No," he says, "I do not think so, creatures!"

The wind continues to howl around, swirling about, pulling at clothing and anything else it can drag with it. On the wind now there is a voice, different and not in the beautiful language that Jillian has been talking in. This one is harsher, gutteral, like the gnashing of teeth. It seems to speak in response to Jillian's call, and her voice is difficult to hear above the wind and this new voice. The circle glows brighter as the candles grow dimmer. There is something that draws the clerics in to the circle though, something inviting. Come... Come join us... It seems to say.

<OOC> Typhoon says, "Will saves from my clerics"

GAME: Typhoon rolls 1d20+9 (Rhodes): (14)+9 (Rhodes): 23

GAME: Verna rolls will: (1)+9: 10

GAME: Kerbasy rolls will: (20)+17: 37

Verna is not frightened of the dark, nor of ghostly hands. She looks to the circle to see how it fares against the droning ritual. It is the focus of their visit, their purpose. She helped to discover it in the home, afterall. Her eyes unfocus as they stare at the light. Odd, that is different. IWithout thinking, she steps forward to the circle.

GAME: Bennet rolls cmb: (14)+4: 18

Bennet moves swiftly, grabbing the priestess up by the back of her collar. "Hold on there missy. You don't wanna go in there." ...if only this were the first time he's done that. Though typically it has more to do with rowdy bars and less with undead circles.

Namira watches Verna starts to step into the circle, but is glad to notice that Kerbasy doesn't move. Her candle STILL doesn't move.

Boshter's determined. He really is. He's not giving into the siren calls of 'joining', and he is certainly still keeping himself clos to Rhodes. Not so close as to itnerrupt anything the priet needs to do, but he's definitely keeping close on him, grabbing at spectral hands in some futility and in some success. Sometimes.

Kerbasy chants, repeating the words. Louder. LOUDER, as Thul's agents call. His voice takes on the tone of incantation, of years of practice within the Temples. He does. Not. Move.

Rhodes blinks as he sees movement in Verna but relaxes when Bennet grabs her and gets her to stay on this side of the line. He makes sure his candle is strong after his struggle with the hand, looking to Boshter with a slight smile, to find strength in the faithful next to him.

The wind still howls though as the voice disappears, failing in it's attempt. But now that wind turns cold, frigid even as it blows about everyone. Breath can be seen at how quickly the temperature drops. The circle still glows, defiant against the six and the voices.

<OOC> Typhoon says, "Fortitude saves from everyone"

GAME: Typhoon rolls 1d20+6 (Rhodes): (17)+6 (Rhodes): 23

GAME: Kerbasy rolls fort: (2)+14: 16

GAME: Namira rolls fortitude: (3)+11: 14

GAME: Bennet rolls fort: (3)+8: 11

GAME: Verna rolls fort: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Boshter rolls Fort: (14)+13: 27

You paged (Namira, Bennet, Verna) with 'It's getting so cold you can feel yourself going into early stages of hypothermia. Your candle's flame wavers, starting to go out.'

Bennet grunts softly, shivering, his candel waving as his hand shakes in the chill. "...shoulda brought my gloves." The Absolution stands firm, despite the discomfort. This is bad, but he's been though worse.

Namira grrrs loudly and holds her hand close to the flame. Her teeth begin to chatter cuz it's so cold.

Verna is stopped and yanked short of the circle and gasps. First, she's startled. Second, she's suddenly freezing despite the heavy robes and cloak. She starts to shiver, the candle flame flickering wildly from the movement. "Something is resisting us?" It is half statement, half query. It is, you know. Cold. Kerbasy grips the candle and continues chanting. "In the circle and out of the circle, the bones of death and bones of life. Come here within and block without, bones within, bones without...cast out..." He shivers, and his knuckles are white.

So damn cold.

But it has nothing on the kind of cold Boshter's experienced before. Blarite winters, you know, are pretty awful. Still, he braces himsel versus it as best he can, shivering beneth his robe and trying to drw it tighter about himself, best he's able. He seems relieved by the absence of the voice. Rhodes takes several deep breaths despite the cold and attempts to stand firm, not going to let it get to him. Stand strong, be firm, do not waver. "It's trying to stop us," he calls in response to Verna.

The wind continues to blow, attempting to freeze everyone, to drive out their candles, to drive out their lights and their faith. However, a new voice is heard. This time, it is not heard in the ears, but in the heart. The words are difficult to understand, though clear, and the sensation of speaking them. They are similar to what Jillian has been saying, that light, beautiful language from the start of all of this. Speak them, be filled with them.

Bennet snorts softly, flexing his hands to keep the fingers warm. Or at least mobile. "Trying. Failing."

"It will not win!" Bosher does not know the voice's words, but he does /feel/ them. He seems exhilerated by the nearness of... of /something/.

Kerbasy tries his best. He shivers, and the words jerk. They stutter. He draws in a breath, and tries again. And again.

Namira might be cold, but her own faith doesn't falter. She takes a slow, deep breath, keeping her eyes open as an act of abject defiance. She begins to mutter quietly, prayers to Vardama. If anything, she is strengthening her faith.

Verna forces her body to still. The warmth of the words, literal or not, is enough to help her ward off the cold. "It will not," she adds, firmly, "and any who support it will also fail."

"Speak them," Rhodes says, understanding the words. "They're part of the ritual." His voice turns to the Celestial they are all hearing, though he understands the words, because of the cold his teeth chatter and it is difficult to get out.

As more voices join in on speaking the Celestial, the warmer it becomes, and the wind pushes again, but slowly starts to die off, but there are bursts of gusts as if fighting it.

Kerbasy does his best to repeat this words. His tongue fumbles over the unfamiliar tongue. He holds his candle and he chants, and shivers. "BEGONE!" he snaps, and has to adjust his lenses, because they almost fall off.

Namira begins to say the words as well. She can't understand a lick of the words she's saying, but if it helps.....

Bennet isn't the best of speakers, even in languages he understands. But he speaks them anyway, a convention in the feeling behind the words, if a bit shaky on the exact pronunciation. Nodding, Boshter does begin to repeat the words, to the best of his understanding. "They re glorious," he adds, at the end of a particualrl, if not prfectly spoken vesion of them. Goblin accent, you know. IT does not help.

Verna does not know the literal translation of the words, but she can feel a strong sense of their meaning. She also has fair ears (they are pointed, afterall), and a strong memory. Verna adds her own voice to the chorus by rote repetition.

Rhodes continues to speak the language as he hears the others joining in.

Their words start to ring through the darkness and the wind soon starts to lessen and actually die down. There is still the glowing though of the circle. It grows brighter for a bit, as if defying all of them, persistant. As the words are spoken though, there is a sense of power, strong dark power. It must be what fuels this circle and that power isn't up near the surface with everyone but deep, deep below, and then spreading out. The sensation of tunnels and a maze of them comes to mind.

Kerbasy feels hot wax over his skin. The candle's dripping over his hand. Suddenly energized, he concentrates--and sends a rush of prayer outwards. Gray energy, chill as the grave but rushing forward as a headstone wind.

Bennet hesitates an instant, stuttering a bit as the impressions come to mind. But he speaks on, a will behind the words, even as a practical bit of his mind tries to remember twists and turns in some kind of map.

Also energized, Namira chants even louder along with Kerbasy. Even as the labyrinths flow through her mind, she shakes her head and keeps chanting.

Verna frowns. Not in doubt or fear, but in determination. The impressions of tunnels run deep, and she attempts to commit them to memory. EVen after this ritual succeeds, and she's sure it will, there may be other vile things that need hunted down. Verna doesn't let the frown halt her voice, however

Rhodes continues, not caring that the candle is melting onto his hand. His voice is clear and consise as he speaks the words of the ritual, the calling of the gods and their power, the banishing of this evil. Lady give us strength.

The flames of the candles actually change colors. From the orange/red that a normal flame is, they all turn to grey, though still giving off light, a bright light that is growing. It is starting to outshine the light of the circle which is dimming in turn. Even if it is defeated, it must be broken... The khopeshes, the weapon of the Gray Lady... They are needed. But together... At the right moment...

Kerbasy rubs the extra wax on his robe, to get it away from his hand. Just some. Just a little. And then it's back to chanting, and another rush of energy to accompany the drawing of khopeshes!

Grey. That is a good sign, so far as Boshter's concerned. The Grey Lady is hr title, after all. Khopeshes. He's never been one for weaponry, per say, but he'll make an exception. Absolutely. Rituals require those. He seems proud.

Rhodes takes a deep breath and takes out his own khopesh, holding it in his hand. His voice speaks clearly as his eyes focus now on the circle, waiting for the right time to come. They'll know it....

Verna ignores the wax that drips onto her gloves. The shift in colors is both fascinating from an intellectual standpoint, but spiritually uplifting. At the reminder of the weapons, she pauses in her chant just long enough to prepare her own weapon.

Drawing her own Khopesh, after putting her longsword away, Namira ignores the hot wax that is on her hand. Especially when the candle's light turns grey.

Bennet tends to favor his gun, but when it comes to symbols and ritual, the khopesh suits much better.

The words come faster, stronger. The glowing of the circle pulses but now everyone is completely lit by the gray light of their candles. The feeling now is of strength, of power, of unity. To moment to cut the circle is in

Three...

Two...

One...

NOW!!!

Another drip. Kerbasy forgets the burning in his hand as the candle continues its path, and focuses instead the prayers of the Harpist towards the center of that hell-circle. PUSH!

Verna was premature before with her step towards the circle. Now, she is not. She moves forward at the signal and strikes to cut the circle with her khopesh. While she is not a mistress of weapons, it is her Mistress' chosen. Her target is also an immobile mark on an immobile floor.

Namira STABS her Khopesh into the ground in the circle part in front of her, keeping a hold of the candle and the hot wax on her hand.

Bennet is a little hesitant about letting the celrics step towards the circle. Steppinng into danger is his job. But, ritual, symbols, etc etc. The gunman does his part, as best is able.

As does Boshter. HE stabs his khopesh into the ground as well as the others do, a little hesitatn and uncertain, but definitely quick on doing so whe nit comes time. HE's just not used to handling this sort of blade, and it shows. Still, he's strong enough to make it work. ANd so he does.

Rhodes bends over, candle still in hand and swipes across the cicle, out to in, with his khopesh, disrupting the lines and the runes there. Wax also drips onto the circle.

Where each strike is done, there is a violent burst of light. It doesn't hurt anyone, but it's bright, like a small explosion. The light of the circle then completely dies out, and the light returns, like it was before the ritual started. Jillian is there, lowering her hands, her voice soft as if finishing a prayer in that beautiful language. The air is clearer now, fresh, like a breeze has come through. In fact, there is the sense of a small breeze, putting out the flames of the candles, as just beyond hearing, a chord from a harp can be heard, echoing away.

It is done.

Kerbasy drops the candle. Abruptly. And then scrubs his poor hand on his robe. Flecks of wax fall onto the floor, and then he presses that part of his hand against his mouth. "Thank you, Mourner," he says. Then drops his hand. "It feels better. Heh. A mite better."

Bennet frowns, eyeing the broken circle as he returns the cerimonial items. "Sorta get the impression... well, ain't got a good metaphor, but something like took the scab off, and now there's a bunch pus down below needs cleaned out. But still, better than it was."

"...heh, yeah. It's time to get th' mop," Kerbasy says. He gives his hand a shake again, and looks up to Jillian. "If you don't mind, I'll run up and get some of those. A little hard work and elbow grease from here on out." He's itching to scrub what's left, clean. Sort of like...an eraser. Yes. Very, very much like an eraser.

"is that it? Is this house clear?" asks Boshter, worriedly, as he looks around. He seems a bit unsteady on his feet after all of that, to be sure.

Jillian takes a deep breath. "Yes, it is done. Let us clean out this room and then tell the others at the temple about what we felt. Yes, I think the house is clear enough for the family to come back. But what is under, what is in the catacombs, that should be investigated. I suppose we will have to speak to the Guild of Explorers for some aid." She takes a deep breath, but nods. "Yes, cleaning, let's do that."

Bennet nods in agreement. "House, clean. Under the house, not yet."

Namira puts the candle down gently, despite the slight burn she got from the wax. She then looks to Jillian and nods. "I'll help clean up, then help investigate what's down below later."

Kerbasy adjusts his lenses, and then smiles. He mouths the word 'mopping' at poor Boshter. Poor Boshter. And then jogs up with all the enthusiasm of a teenager told that there's ten gold on the counter and the parents aren't looking. MOP.

It's like an eraser.

Against Thul's FACE!