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Cinder 6 passes (Thank you, Juniper, for your assist!)
- Ritual Conclusion - Exceptional Success!
Cam was aware, on some level, that Juniper was sneezing. Repeatedly. He hoped she wasn't catching a cold, but was in no position to express any concern or offer her some tissues. He was focused on the sword as, he figured, anyone in their right mind would be at this point of the ritual.
Taking a moment to appreciate the workmanship, the age, the history and the foreign quality of a Fae creation exposed to the air and sky and moon of a Human world, Cam placed it reverently inside the circle, next to the five components. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at the fire as it continued to grow before reaching for the small wooded scabbard looped on his belt. He withdrew his Sgian Dubh, a knife about four and a half inches long that was a traditional item in Scotland. This one had no magic.
Cam held his left hand in front of him at chest height. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before dragging the blade across the palm of his hand. Setting the knife on the ground beside his shirt, he extended his left arm, level with the ground, over the circle's edge, so his hand was clearly within its boundaries. Then, he squeezed it. Hard.
Drops of his blood smacked softly into the cold dirt. The fire grumbled and abruptly shot higher than the nearest trees, the tip of the flame appearing as if it wanted to kiss the moon. The ground beneath the site trembled. Cam quickly pulled his hand back, ignoring the blood on his palm as the flames of his previously humble, Earthly fire started to spin within themselves. They retracted back from their incredible stretch until level with the Scot. He watched them and waited.
The flames suddenly spread outward, a circle larger than the one he had drawn, engulfing the components and the sword, the rune stones and Cameron himself.
- Ritual Conclusion - Exceptional Success!
Cam was aware, on some level, that Juniper was sneezing. Repeatedly. He hoped she wasn't catching a cold, but was in no position to express any concern or offer her some tissues. He was focused on the sword as, he figured, anyone in their right mind would be at this point of the ritual.
Taking a moment to appreciate the workmanship, the age, the history and the foreign quality of a Fae creation exposed to the air and sky and moon of a Human world, Cam placed it reverently inside the circle, next to the five components. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at the fire as it continued to grow before reaching for the small wooded scabbard looped on his belt. He withdrew his Sgian Dubh, a knife about four and a half inches long that was a traditional item in Scotland. This one had no magic.
Cam held his left hand in front of him at chest height. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before dragging the blade across the palm of his hand. Setting the knife on the ground beside his shirt, he extended his left arm, level with the ground, over the circle's edge, so his hand was clearly within its boundaries. Then, he squeezed it. Hard.
Drops of his blood smacked softly into the cold dirt. The fire grumbled and abruptly shot higher than the nearest trees, the tip of the flame appearing as if it wanted to kiss the moon. The ground beneath the site trembled. Cam quickly pulled his hand back, ignoring the blood on his palm as the flames of his previously humble, Earthly fire started to spin within themselves. They retracted back from their incredible stretch until level with the Scot. He watched them and waited.
The flames suddenly spread outward, a circle larger than the one he had drawn, engulfing the components and the sword, the rune stones and Cameron himself.