[God Quest] Prayers answered

I'm the bad guy.

The wound on her leg still throbs in reminder of her struggles against the lamplighter as she enters the Temple. She presses through the pain without limping, although the confident clip of her boots on the black marble floor is more muted than usual. It slows her slightly as she carries the different aspects of her quest to the shrine.

Nevertheless, she finds herself before the dark obsidian, laying out her Flametouch daggers, the perfect conch shell, and the patch of lamplighter scales - still sticky with dried blood. Slicing her hand across the sharp edge of the stone altar, she lets it puddle in her palm before placing her mark on the surface and calling out. "Dygra, my lady, I have done as you asked." Her voice is soft and reverent, although tinged with exhaustion as she lowers her head.

---

Thalassa is turning in her quest from Fingers Crossed!

1. Complete a thread encountering echo sharks, paying close attention to the way they are able to speak and mimic voices.
- soft words ricochet
2. Complete a thread collecting a conch shell from the waters surrounding Apopo.
- [SE] shell we stay a while?
3. Complete a thread encountering and killing a lamplighter, collecting a few of its scales.
- still to the light
4. Complete a thread singing a duet with another person.
- siren song

thalassa

Dygra

The drops of Thalassa's blood that hit the obsidian will seem to thrum and echo, louder than they ought to be, like the beating of drums in a hollow space. Immediately the air grows hot, oppressive for all those who are not Ancient, and phantom touches caress the captain's cheeks, brushing across her eyelids, her lips, the wound upon her leg. And when Thal looks up, she will find herself lightheaded but completely healed and revitalised, as if some bloodboon has been at work from divine hands.

"You have indeed, dark child. And you carry yet more within you than when you last approached me," Dygra hums, her voice keeping the beat of the droplets of blood, still endlessly echoing around the shrine. "Bear it well and you may find yourself in better stead than others against the void. Otherwise, carve it out, should you feel it does you no good."

Don't just live with it, seems to be the overall advice concerning Thal's new purple nature.

In the meantime, the sound of brittle cracking and crunching joins the melody of blood and voices, and the conch shell and lamplighter scales seem to be reducing themselves to little more than dust - dust that scatters across the daggers set on the altar. Dust that, when it settles, will leave the hilts of the weapons stamped with an engraving of the shell and ready for use.

"Use them well," Dygra purrs.

---

Thal has completed her quest and has received the following:

Type: Grey| Style: Other | Level: Basic
Oral Charm | A small charm inlaid on the hilt of the Obsidian Daggers that allows one to be controlled via singing, within a range of 10 ft. Controlling a dagger takes an action to complete.

Table coding by Sky <3

I'm the bad guy.

The rhythmic beats vibrate in her chest, announcing Dygra's arrival like the regal being she is, building an anticipation in her chest with each pound of her heart. The hot brush of gentle touches remind her of a mother's loving caress, easing the pain and exhaustion in its wake - the tension of her body flees in her presence, a breath of relief passing her lips in appreciation. 

Her eyes blink slowly against the dizzying force of the healing magic, basking in the sound of Dygra's voice. It shouldn't surprise her that the goddess notices the new lavender hue of her mind, although she tilts her head curiously at the response. After all, she doesn't feel so much different, and the need to 'cut it out' sounds so dramatic and unnecessary. She still has yet to explore what benefits her new condition may provide, but a confident grin spreads across her face. "I will make you proud."

Her eyes follow the disintegration of the shell and scales, watching as they fuse Dygra's power to the daggers in a new etching along the hilts. She dips her head in awe, feeling the hum of power as she lifts them in her hands. "Thank you, my lady. I look forward to seeing you again soon." And until she is certain that the goddess has gone, Thal memorizes every touch, every inflection, every bit of warmth that's shared with her, praying she won't forget it again so easily. 

[FIN]

thalassa