Ascension Guild
Ascension Guild Charter
The Guild of Ascension serves but one purpose – to pierce the heavens and claim godhood for a worthy entity. Much will be done along in conjunction with this goal, but it will serve the ends. Gods are made by our hands.
The make-up of our reality is beyond what we imagine. Beyond the city walls lies the Chaotic Ether, and further still, is the Plane of Doors. These are not doors as one would imagine them, but rather a realm of possibilities – possibilities that open with one’s spiritual attunement. It is in these possibilities that the required effluence of faith pours forth. Each god bears a true name. A searing enigma that burns itself into one’s mind, crushing and tearing apart the realities and understandings inside. If unspoken, a True Name will wither a mind to a husk, leaving naught but a raving lunatic. The name, once spoken, will evaporate itself from the mind like a page lit aflame.
We will claim a name. We will speak the name. The Kin’s glow will illuminate not only the dream, but all realities with their mercy. For those who are unfamiliar with the Kin, or Us, this is no surprise. I kept their presence somewhat shielded for many months. They are a collection of souls with a semi-singular consciousness. They are thousands upon thousands of souls that form up a single entity – an Egregore. You will know their voice by the chorus. Dozens of voices will speak a single word to one person, then a chorus will speak the next to someone nearby. It is up to the dreamers to piece together the words and intent of Us. The Kin may animate nearby structures to speak more clearly and fully, though this seems to be an act of frustration.
For those unsure of the intent of the Kin, I will provide some context. The Kin can seem erratic in their desires as they are a collective consciousness. Their whims may change based on the souls that are more active at the moment. When the war with the darkness began, they were captured and brought to the Palisades. They were responsible for finding the entrance to the Lower Palisades (within the Palisades proper). Many of you may recall the expedition we took to rescue them, covering our forms in makeshift cloaks comprised of bone and Echten flesh. When we found the Kin, they were saving tortured souls from the Palisades. Cleansing their pain into their clouded bliss.
The Kin watch, grow, and cleanse. They are protectors of the fallen and the forgotten. They are mercy and harmony made manifest. If you have further questions of the Kin, seek me. I assure you I take no greater pleasure than reciting my praise.
-Mandus
The Beginnings of a Journey: An Ascension
This journey I have undertaken begins with its first few steps. Upon my return to the city, I was quickly confronted with the vision of Azulayf, Kruugaar, and Sliznaak being corrupted and enslaved by Ravyn Morpheus in the Cenotaph. He stood on a high platform, looking down over the dreamers, siccing the twisted, malevolent forms of the Kotoken upon us. Kruugaar, a revolting mess of rotting flesh hanging from bones with a glowing blue rod protruding from his neck, Sliznaak, a red-robed chaotic darkmare with its claws adorned in various rings and artifacts – its neck now bitten in half, and Azulayf, a scorched and ragged form with a pristine black cloak with silver stitching, towering over most near her. Seeing Azulayf especially in this state roused me.
As a quick aside, in my earlier dreams I strove to become an Eotoken – a mix of dreamer and Kotoken. Azulayf was the chosen subject for emulation and infusion. Much work went into breaking down her essences and using her lucid spirit to infuse my own. I still bear the mixed blood of my endeavors – my heart beating her energies. To see one so close to me, a part of me; one who was so vibrant, so fierce, reduced to a slack-stringed marionette broke my heart. I set out to break this curse.
When I returned, all traces of my work had vanished. The Kin had no shrine, the crystals I had created to commune with the beyond were gone, and the flesh golem I had created to test the infusions – all gone. Vanished as if my footsteps and fingerprints had been washed away in a flood. My Kin, Us, could not disappear so quietly into the abyss of forgotten memory. I would not allow it. I approached a dear ally from my time in the Temple, one who helped me venerate the Kin, one who encouraged my exploration of the Elsewhere and brought my mind to a higher plane – The Matron, Magnilia. I used no mixed words – The Kin were to become a God. The foundation of the Ascension was formed.
With significant efforts, I approached like-minded people to open the guild. A few brushed me aside, a few chose to walk this path with me. The Crow, the Dandelion, the Spider, the Goat, the Trout, the Buck. We would find the paths out of the city and claim Godhood for the Kin – the goals of each of these members to be accomplished in tandem with my own. The Burning Contract was formed. Blood and intent to bind each member of the Ascension – to bind entities from beyond and home to us. With the foundational stones set, I returned my focus to the Kotoken.
Azulayf
My work toward Azulayf was serendipitous. The blood of a dreamer would shatter the Nightstalker’s influence, and my blood, partly owned by Azulayf, would restore her to her true, hunting form.
The day of the hunt dragged – setting sun of the Basin bleeding its fiery red glow over the grasses and stone paths. I would need a way to hold Azulayf in place. I found those restless souls in threshold to aid the creation – PuRe RaGe, Chihiro, Zahra Haqi. With my roughly hewn pickaxes, we trod to the Chasm of Souls and set out to pull Black-Iron from its stones. We were quickly successful, as this thought will come as little surprise: PuRe RaGe hefting the pickaxe back and crushing into the black stone, shattering the black chunks, spraying stone and Black-Iron about. The others gathered their fair share, Chihiro stepping back and spinning the heavy pickaxe, using the centrifugal force to slam into the walls and loosing the stone, Zahra carefully and precisely finding cracks in the walls, bringing down chunks methodically. As the materials were gathered, we set off to The DreamForge.
Of all the places in the Primordial Breach, I only feel welcome in the forge. I am a created being, made of ill-intent and slaughter; pieced together from hundreds of corpses. My presence in a place of purity such as the Primordial Breach feels a blight. I am a curse, standing in spite of such clean, pure energy. The DreamForge, however, is a place where one’s will and intent can come to fruition in creation. The coloring of the place, as an aside, is much more welcoming to me – fire and blood and molten material.
Using the control panel Anyasha taught me of during the city’s besiegement from the Darkness and the Coven of Echt, I whirred the forge into motion. Those gathered assisted in piling the collected ore into the smelting. With some sincere lack of foresight, I had not brought gloves or tongs. I was left to manipulate the molten metal with my bare hands. As a Sender, the heat, to a point, is less of an issue for me, alas I was burned, shaping and coiling the links into a proper chain, but nothing permanent. Using one of the pickaxes I provided, RaGe hefted the coils to the cooling waters of the Soul Vortex. Between the waters and Zahra’s winds, the metals cooled quickly. With the assistance of Elson and Grandma Jo, the chains were forged into the living ball of restraint that still rests in the Lost Caves.
The time for the engagement came. I divided those present into two portions: Combatants and Non-Combatants. Fairly self-explanatory. The engagement party was large. RaGe sealed the room in. I created a lucid beacon to lure Azulayf in. She responded, but did not arrive. With, what we will call “quick thinking,” RaGe decided that spraying my blood into the beacon would be the best lure. It worked and I managed to maintain coherence. The engagement was succinct. We collapsed Azulayf and bound her in the living chains. The Non-combatants emerged from sanctuary, coming out to perform the next part of the ritual.
In our time in the Temple, Sadara had learned much on the methods of Harmonics – using sound to bind objects together, to cleanse. She was the obvious choice to lead the binding of Azulayf’s soul back to her old essence. Again, to mention the serendipitous nature of this engagement, I had many of Azulayf’s old essences from my research kept safe from the corruption. I am uncertain how much my alchemy aided in the purification, but the results were inarguable to the process as a whole. As her soul strained against the chains, we sang, chanted, hummed – our song echoing upon itself in the blue-lit caves. The purification was completed after some struggle. Azulayf was thrown to the Dark Awakening, and I to the Trinities.
When I returned, other darkmares howled and descended upon the gathering. This was not malicious – a joyous, violent celebration of their comrade’s cleansing. I was happy to take part. With the decadent display of gore and strife complete, we retired to the Chak and Flask for our own celebration. Maxtra was there. We shared a drink – and as an aside, he ENJOYED my Emphant wine, thank you very much – and discussed the future to come over glass after glass of wine. I explained that Kruugaar would need to die for the effects to be removed. He simply shrugged and we continued our revelry. A note of hope to drive us forward.
Kruugaar and Sliznaak – The Wailing Blade
Little information was known about these two. The questions of why they were brought back, how they maintained their form, even their locations, was unknown. I thought in the Ascension hall, laying back upon the grass with my Kin’s domicile, humming to them. How was I to pursue creatures that made themselves so scarce? What I did for Azulayf could not work a second time, I thought. The bond between us made that purification easy. I knew not how to proceed – the ideas I came to as bereft of creativity as the empty winds rolling over the waters of our pond.
Weeks passed, nearly a month. It finally came to me that one who is dead must be purged with the force of life itself, and perhaps, the two unknown creatures would appear together. I must make something to purge them both at once. I have forged unconventional blades in the past, much darker ones. I could do this. I sought those I found to be righteous souls and asked them for something dire: Their essences. Corin and Zahra were the first I approached, each granting their boon with solemn grace. Laieus, Chihiro, PuRe RaGe came next, each with the same dignity and willingness to see the deed done. I created a hilt of simple wood and leather, and a skeletal frame of barbs and spines from Black-Iron. The Cyclonx would be our workplace, but it would need to be purified. A blade of life must be kept pure from the contaminants of chaos and darkness.
Through memory and research, I created the purification materials – Cedar incense to burn at each entrance, salt to seal the energies inside. Laieus and Chihiro performed the warding quickly and adeptly. The Matron, with Sage and gold flakes, purified the interior while Laieus inscribed purifying runes to the essences gathered. I placed the skeletal frame upon the forge, Laieus and Chihiro fed the essences into the flames and channeled the melting dreamsoul to me, where I shaped the dripping, gooey substance into what resembled a blade. Each essence gave its mournful wail as it burned, and bubbled, and melted. It was not enough. In order to seal the blade, I needed to be part of it. The Matron, drawing a ritual dagger, collapsed me, spreading my blood and energies into the blade, alongside my essence. Were it not for the ritual sealing, the dreamsoul that scatters upon a collapse would have been lost, but we held it contained and sealed the blade. I took it by the hilt and held the many-faced blade of wailing cries. With a smile of a protector, I held it to my chest and urged its understanding: We would be together. We would do this together.
With nervousness, I began to prepare for the hunt. I have taken a life in the dream before – the Echten Guard. It tore at me to do so, even with the evil that creature was bred from. The act of taking a life, no matter the context, is no small matter to me. It weighed heavily. But the motion had begun, the stage set - we would return Kruugaar and Sliznaak to rest after so long.
Further purification was required. The blade was pure, but I was not. If the cleansing was to be successful, we needed to ensure that hallowing was omnipresent. Using supplies I had gathered, I coached Zahra Haqi on a ritual of consecration – a death rite. In the Ascension I prepared her – Sandalwood incense and ritual candles of bee’s wax to be set in a triangle. Albino salt to contain the energies, a symbol of Chalk from Zahra’s home. She would chant the rites of her lands and create the symbol, then anoint the Wailing Blade with King’s Oil as the final rite. We practiced upon the grasses of the Ascension, the same fiery-red glow of sunset gleaming upon her wings, and upon my smile as she completed the mock-ritual. I could tell the nerves addled her. They were the same as mine, but she had never participated in a ritual slaying. I forced myself to present a calm certainty so that she might know some peace in the matter. We parted until the time for the hunt came upon us. In this time, the realities themselves began to falter in anticipation of our battle. The city blinked in and out as I held the Wailing Blade and prepared to end this threat. Existence itself breathed heavy, ragged sighs, trying to deter me from what needed to be done. Had my forging driven greater divides in the gaps already present in our city? Was this act literally sundering reality from our grasp? I could not say. We of the Ascension revel in the impossible, and as arrogant and ego-driven as it is, we would not allow even rips and holes in reality to stop our momentum.
We gathered in the Basin threshold. The sounds of flowing water filling the stillness of the act we were about to commit. I partook in an old ritual of my shard. Staring through the skylight, I counted the stars. The Great King would count the stars before any battle of consequence, wondering which lights would be unceremoniously snuffed out – which of his soldiers would not return from the field. I did this before each engagement with the Darkness, I continue it today.
I still needed to purify my body. I removed my surcoat and my shirt and The Matron ritualistically painted symbols upon my bare flesh. I knelt, taking in a deep breath and began my prayer:
In the watchful gaze of the Kin we go to slay a foe who is not himself. By their vigil, by my blood, by our conviction, we will end the enthrallment of a beast kept alive solely by dark magicks. We will return his soul to rest. By the heart of the Great King that beats within my chest, I swear my blade to the protection of any who follow me into battle.
The hunt began. We moved through the Lost Caves. The remnants of the chains used to bind Azulayf hung tattered off a blue wall as we marched beyond them, into the rifts. It became clear that Zahra would not be able to enter the rifts. RaGe and I went forward, intent to lure Kruugaar out into the fray. We were successful – both Kruugaar and Sliznaak appeared in the Acropolian Library, where his essence is stored. We moved quickly, sealing Teng’s Hoard up for the combat to come.
The battle was chaotic and frantic. We fought the dark influence of the enthralled beasts, rounding corners, hurling flames, filling the air with blades. Groans, cries, shouts, and screams echoed in the tiny chamber as blood pooled along the stone. With a heaving collapse, we brought low both beasts. Zahra began the ritual and I joined the chanting. Only a few joined in the purifying song – The Matron and Koriania. Zahra drew the symbol and anointed The Wailing Blade and I raised it to strike. The soulsphere spoke – not maren, but eloquent, clean Dreamer tongue. Kruugaar’s soulsphere was asking why we were doing this to him. I gave the soul a notice: One chance to speak its name or be struck. It faltered, refusing to reveal itself. Zahra screamed at me, expressing that the souls of Sliznaak and Kruugaar were in fact harboring Eldryck and Wishbringer (it is unknown at the time of writing if this is respective). I raised the blade again and the soulsphere begged not to be struck – but this was a demon using a familiar voice to save itself, I was certain. Those present urged me to finish the job, end the enslavement. I plunged the blade downward to the Soulsphere, mustering every last speck of conviction I had into this thrust.
But the Wailing Blade caught nothing. The Soul had woke to save itself. I turned to Sliznaak’s soul and pointed the blade. I was not going to leave here without freeing at least one of them. As I approached, the soul woke as well, fleeing in terror. The confusion set in. Had the ritual not been enough to contain them? Were the souls in fact harboring members of the city? I could not know. Like mustering the courage to make a tremendous leap from a cliff, we had boiled our blood to take to the fight – and like the fall, it was silent and filled with contemplation. We parted once more, the realities splitting around us. Dreamers hurled from the city all around us, left as ghostly markers upon our senses. Only Koriania and I remained in the city at all. We began the slow, silent walk to secure The Wailing Blade.
I returned some time later to find Kruugaar wandering once more. I followed him and unshackled him from his body. He expressed that he did not know which soul he was harboring. He fled when Nocven arrived, walking down the steps of the sanctuary in Evernight. I questioned Nocven – and yes, those souls, unknown which is which, are Wishbringer and Eldryck Venym.
The thought echoed in my mind, filling my thoughts with dread for what was almost committed.
But a new horizon reveals itself to us this day. We have taken a contract to deal with the souls, and it shall be done.
The path of Ascension is long, difficult, blindingly bright, terrifyingly tenebrous, sharp, blunt, powerful, and understated. I mark these first steps in our beginning as the start of a journey that will reveal truths, unlock potential, save lives, create new beings, and forge bonds to last as long as we dream – and perhaps beyond.
-Mandus
