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Bloodless Vessel

Corvina's page

12 posts. Alias of shrodingerscat.


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Corvina, for her part, seems quite spent, as though she had been running for days. On her knees,she gives a last grunt and exhales deeply. The ground around her shudders, as does the Great Black Tree at the edge of the cliff. Then like a wave, the earth between them ripples, and deep black roots wend and wind just below the surface, jumping for moments like swimming fish, the back down into the soil. They move with such speed towards Corvina that anyone watching could have blinked twice, and it was done. The roots finally fully erupt from the ground around her, wrapping her up in a dark embrace, snaking up and around her body until she is lifted off the ground, and several feet into the air, until she is fully enclosed in the plant matter, in the ancient part of earth. Only her hands and a bit of her forearms are exposed, reaching out, although apparently not in fear, but in welcome. One hand is the deepest black, glistening like the darkest of clay, the other, the reddest of reds, as if pumped straight from the heart, it's color rich and vibrant.

End Round 4

Start Round 5

Elarya: 22
Sansa: 21
Garrett: 19
Invaders:17
Jerem: 14
Townsfolk: 8
Amara: 6
Havak: 5
Corvina: 4


A visible yet barely tangible wave of force centered on Corvina shoots out quickly as she drops to her knees, the air around her wavering with an effect that blurs sight for only moments.
The wave quickly moves across the scene, and each person it touches feels a slight chill and a minor start as if someone had barely touched the back of their neck with a pin. Even the horde pauses for precious seconds, unsure of the sensation. They quickly regains themselves, though and continue their pursuits, chasing and cutting down the panicked folk of Solace.
Corvina pulls her dirty and drenched sleeve to her mouth, wiping the blood from her face, although a good portion of it has been washed away by the rain. She staggers over towards Amara, nearly falling again as she reaches the young archer.
Clearing her throat roughly, she spits a deep wad of red into a puddle in the ground.
Her voice is low, overshadowed somewhat by the sounds of chaos all around.
I believe I can help end this. But there are several paths to the end, and I am no tracker. Run to your friends and ask them; shall it be red, or shall it be black? Is it blood that ends this all, or do we simply close our eyes?

Round 3

Elarya: 22 (acted)
Sansa: 21 (acted)
Garrett: 19 (acted)
Invaders:17 (acted)
Jerem: 14 (acted)
Townsfolk: 8 (acted)
Amara: 6 (acted)
Havak: 5 (acted)
Corvina: 4 (acted)

End Round 3


Sansa Allende wrote:


Sansa remained motionless as Corvina pressed down firmly on her fingers to feel her long, hard nails beneath the gloves. She had noticed Corvina's eyes change hue and appear as mismatched as Sansa's own.

Retracting her hands from Corvina's grip, Sansa vexedly replies, "You are always cryptic, Corvina. Speak plain! And why were you scratching your collarbone thusly?"

This time Corvina grins wildly and Sansa can see that her gums are particularly red, as a trickle of blood winds its way out of her mouth and down her chin.

"I scratch, little creature, because I have an itch."

Amara Sontan wrote:

Amara reaches Corvina'a hut in time to hear Elarya's remarks to Sansa. "Three at least" She looks grim, but then giggles, "They will think the girls of the town have gone mad! What says Corvina about her predicament anyway?"

Learning that she seems unconcerned and as cryptic as ever Amara furrows her brow, "Maybe we should just see what she does, she doesn't seem too bothered by it all."

Approaching Corvina she asks her directly, "Greetings Corvina, what will your response be to the coming of the elders?"

She turns her gaze from Sansa and looks to Amara cocking her head slightly to the side, looking the girl up and down, seemingly sizing her up.

"We will see soon enough, I suppose."
The blood continues to roll out of her mouth in a thin line and it is apparent to all present that she has bitten off the very tip of her tongue.
She digs her feet deeply into the clay and wrings her fingers together, quietly muttering to herself.


Elarya Whitescale wrote:
"Red? Red as in blood?"

Corvina remains silent, but looks directly into Elarya's eyes, something akin to a grin passes briefly on her face, but like a quick wind, it is soon gone. She begins to scratch at her neck, digging absently just above her collarbone.

Sansa Allende wrote:


Remaining mute as Corvina's disclosure sinks in, Sansa tries to interpret the meaning of her statement and what Corvina could mean by words being gold or red.

She looks over her shoulder at the fast approaching townsfolk and the elders leading them.

Returning her mismatch gaze to Corvina, "What will you do? Will you stand and fight or allow them to remove you from Solace?"

Her gaze then turns back to the smaller girl, her eyes seemingly mirroring the little Sansa's own for a flicker of time. She takes the girl's gloved hand in hers, pressing her fingers roughly down through the fabric, so that she can feel the thick nails beneath.

"I will do what one does in these times. I will do what I must when I must."


Corvina stands slowly, first looking at her glistening hands in the cool morning and noting the drops of water fall from her fingers. They have become red from the cold and she looks quizically back at the two young women before her.

"Steady yourself little creature, snakes see with their tongues, and words are their children."

Looking back at the mob of folk slowly moving towards her hut she stands still for several seconds shaking her hands dry and then rubbing them on her dirty dress.
She puts her hand on the shoulders of each of the girls and speaks in a whisper
"The past whispers to me, and the future has yet to tell, but it's words may be of gold or of red. I know not yet."


Elarya Whitescale wrote:

Elarya's expression changes from worry to confusion as something dawns on her.

"How do you know the language of my home?"

Sorry I realized I forgot to comment on this.

Corvina continues to flick her fingers absently in the slow moving water of the river bank, keeping her attention on the drops that fly away from her in various directions.

Without looking up, she speaks in monotone.

"what happens will happen. unless it doesn't."


Corvina slowly slides open the flap of her hut, and waves of strong smelling incense and herbs waft out the door, washing over Elarya.
She half smiles at the girl, almost looking through her, a dullness in her eyes, and her pupils large like a hole in the sky. She brushes several strands from her face and cocks her head to the side.

"fear. anger. they are the same for you, yes?"

She appears to either not be aware of the mass of people moving slowly towards her from a bit off, or not to care.

She moves sleepily towards the river, kneeling to get some water, and her robes dip into the muddy banks.

"there is a snake amoung us, Hvitskala."


Without turning back, Corvina enters the hut silently. Moments later, from beneath the cloth that serves as her door, her hand can be seen pushing the small box from under the drapery past the entryway towards Dante, then slowly drawing back. She says nothing more, nor does she appear from behind the blanket.


Finishing the last of the stones, Corvina looks up briefly at the tense exchange between the crow and the lanky teen. Catching Dante's gaze for a moment, she cocks her head to the side curiously, a blank look in her eyes. He blinks oddly, one eye, then the other, and studies the boy's expression. Then with a sigh, she stands, and looks down at the "bad" stone at her feet to the left. Giving it a wide berth, she takes several smooth steps towards the Black Tree, her movements graceful, whisplike. Placing her hand at a knot on the the great trunk, she drags her fingernails down it, making a slight grating noise.

Still facing away, over the cliff, she speaks
"Be ready for it Dante. Please be ready."
and then silently retrieves the small clasped box and returns to her hut.


Corvina blinked as the blur of feathers and beak whizzed passed them, but found no purchase on their intended target.

Without looking up from her repetitive task, she answered Dante's question simply.
"Fair enough."
Then, looking down and one of the stones in her hand, she frowned.
"This one's gone bad."

For a few seconds she began to sob, but stopped herself before the tears got all the way down her face. She sat down then, her old brown dress crumpled beneath her, the edges trailing into the river and the mud. Putting the stone as far as her arm would reach on the ground to her left, she continued her task with the few stones that were still in front of her, the small box at her right beginning to fill with the polished and cleaned ones.

"Well, until now." she said with a clearing sniffle.

Spellcraft and Knowledge results for Dante:
You don't recognize a particular spell, but you can definitely tell that the marks on the stones are intended to be some kind of ward, although they seem to have a necromantic focus, not something odd for Corvina, she seems to work mostly in necromancy and divination.


Corvina looked up from her duties crouched over the river, and looked directly into Dante's eyes. Then after a few seconds, she seemed to remember herself, and almost smiled, the corner of her mouth beginning to curl, but stopped short as if the muscles wouldn't actually contract that far. As if she wasn't even able to smile.

"Dante. she said as if she was waking from a dream. "Help me wash these." She grabbed him firmly by the wrist, and with odd ease, pulled the boy down to her level, and put three dirty roundish stones in his hand.


Corvina crouched over the river, in the shallowest parts, holding a small object under the water, and moving it deliberately in her hands. She had a small box beside her with a rusted clasp, and occasionally she would move her hands from the box to the river, muttering to her self as she went about her strange ritual.

Perception 12 for Rook to see what the object she's fiddling with is

the object(s):
she seems to be polishing a number of small stones, a bit bigger than coins, each with a small rune of some kind carved into them

No more than ten feet from her, the river crossed under the standing roots of the Great Black Tree, its gnarled and bend form twisting awkwardly some fifty feet up into the sky. That great thing only a few feet from a stark drop where the river fell to the ocean below.

Corvina's hut was worn,and somewhat mismatched, her having done all the repairs herself in the years since her mother had died. It was slightly lopsided, and sure to let in rain at times, but it was a shelter nonetheless, and a number of animal bones, from creatures of all sizes hung about the doorway which was covered by only a thick blanket.

She looked up as the crow flew above and stared into the sky blankly.


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