Encounterlogs
Ritsukas Odd Encounter Sr Lanaeis 241004
In a serene shrine home enveloped by the tranquil sounds and sights of a misty forest, Ritsuka encounters an ominous shift in the atmosphere. The usual peace is pierced by an unsettling bonfire's light and the faint, eerie sound of a distant ritual in the making. Concerned, Ritsuka prepares herself with traditional armor and weapons, and reaches out to Yuki for assistance, suspecting foul play deep within the woods. As she navigates the shadowy terrain toward the source of her unease, Ritsuka stumbles upon a horrifying scene: members of The Black Flame conducting a ritual to summon an eldritch horror, with innocent lives poised as sacrifices to their dark purpose. Determined to thwart this malevolent conjuration, Ritsuka readies her bow and arrow, aiming to disrupt the ceremony and save the captives.
Ritsuka's every move is met with resistance; from the acidic touch of an unseen, monstrous entity, to the unnatural behaviors of the cultists now revealed as monstrous beings themselves. Despite the daunting opposition, she perseveres, focusing on the cult leader in a tense showdown that concludes with Ritsuka victoriously puncturing the leader's chest with her katana. This decisive strike disrupts the ritual and dissipates the immediate threat, freeing the captives. Escaping back to the safety of her home, Ritsuka discovers an unnerving silence has reclaimed the forest, and the horrors that unfolded seem to evaporate as if they were never there. Yet the remnants of the encounter—the slime and the inexplicable disappearance of what she fought so hard to protect—linger as haunting evidence of the night's surreal events. Despite the ordeal's bizarre conclusion, Ritsuka's resolve remains unshaken, her actions a testament to her courage and determination to protect her home from the encroaching darkness.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SRLanaeis):SRLanaeis)
[Thu Oct 3 2024]
In The Heart of a Shrine House
Soft sunlight filters through narrow wooden slats along the ceiling, casting dappled patterns on the polished wooden floors. A branch of a tree seems to carry along just enough above one slat by the side, and some green, mistletoe, manages to just peer into the room. At the room's center is a low, circular table made of rich, dark wood, surrounded by zabuton cushions arranged with precise care. Hanging scrolls adorned with calligraphy of sacred Shinto prayers and natural landscapes line the walls.
In the northeast corner of the room rests a larger kamidana, its small torii gate framing the sacred space. Fresh offerings of water and evergreen sprigs sit before the altar, paying homage to the kami that protect the home. A subtle scent of burning sandalwood incense lingers in the air, and the rhythmic tinkling of a nearby wind chime adds a layer allows for an occasional peaceful sound.
An elaborate and expensive looking statue of a nine-tailed kitsune stands right besides the altar in a resting position. A small ball of golden light shimmers from between its ears and a bowl with dry rice stands besides it.
It is night, about 63F(17C) degrees, There is a waxing crescent moon.
(Your target stumbles upon a ritual being conducted by members of The Black Flame. They are attempting to summon an eldritch horror into our world, which would cause untold destruction. The ritual is being conducted in a secluded forest, and is heavily guarded by cultists. The target must find a way to interrupt the ritual and neutralize the cultists without drawing attention to themselves, or risk facing the wrath of the eldritch horror. As they navigate the forest, they will also be hunted by the cultists, who will do anything to protect their ritual.)
Ritsuka has settled into her home. She looks a little weary and tired and sits by the table on a pillow, hands on her own lap, phone in one hand. She yawns into the back of her hand and leans against the table.
Ritsuka has settled into her home. She looks a little weary and tired and sits by the table on a pillow, hands on her own lap, phone in one hand. She yawns into the back of her hand and leans against the table. She is far from the city, about 650 feet from the city, out in the forest to the north of Haven. The house itself is not heated, despite it getting colder but she is also garbed into her own kimono, keeping her warm as autumn slowly descends to winter.
The night that has fallen is a particularly dark one, the mists in the forest seeming more dense than they usually do. Outside, the usual noises of the forest are mostly unbroken, besides some strange, barely noticeable differences, almost too vague to be picked out from the normal sounds. A hushed noise, whispering? or just the wind through the trees? Footsteps? Or is it just some animal moving around outside? Its not something that would catch your attention immediately, but just strange if one were to be listening. What is strange however, is the smell of smoke filtering in from outside. The light from outside is increased, a bonfire like a beacon rising up in the distance where there was none before.
Ritsuka lets out a deep sigh. Up to her feet she goes, making a bow to the kitsune statue hold a kitsune's star stone, and her eyes peek up to see the little nature spirit that's settled into the mistletoe in the tree above. Another deep breathe in, and she opens the sliding door, reaches for her wardrobe and begins to switch out her kimono. This new one is read, and most of all, contains internal ballistic layering and comes with a hakama. Next, she reaches around for her backpack, retrieving a katana that is set at her left hip, in a hole of the hakama, and a yami bow. This kimono is red, and her weapons and bow, and even the concealed weapon on her, show little adorations of kitsune and the radiant sun.
As Ritsuka looks out the window, she is able to see clearly through the darkness, which is helped by the light from the fire. Even with it being far off, it is clearly visible. It appears to be your usual bonfire, aside from the fact that it is deep in the forest at night. It is surrounded by figures, moving around purposefully. Through the darkness, Ritsuka can see five lumps at the edge of the firelight, the figures occaSionally moving over to and away from them. As Ritsuka watches, a few of the figures exit the firelight, becoming shrouded in darkness. Those that remain begin to gather around the fire, appearing to be doing something encircling the blaze. Whatever it is, any contemplation about it is broken when a low humming fills the air, originating from the direction of the fire.
Ritsuka rolls her eyes, and she goes on to pick up her phone. Enter, she does press the number for a contact, to someone called Yuki. Her next words do switch to her more native language, Japanese. "Good evening, Yuki. I might need your help with something. I am pretty sure I see some freaks do a ritual in the forest. Never a good idea to go alone. Can you help me? Could use someone from a military to give backup." Whatever the conversation, she does goes on to step towards the door, and then tries to speak into her communicator, just to let them, the order, know what she is doing so she can be found in the worst case.
There is another sigh, she slips into armored boots at the entrance and then goes on to leave the house, locking it up behind herself, and turning around to walk around the house to the north, past a kami shrine that is besides her courtyard.
"Sure thing, I can be there in 5 minutes, is that alright?" As the conversation goes on, a static crackling begins to be heard from the phone. The same noise is slowly increasing on the faction com as well, not quite overpowering, but definitely present. As for the fire, the figures aren't visible from here, but rustling is audible in the forest surrounding the house. Movement, and lots of it. The sound of hushed voices is heard from somewhere not far off to the right. From the direction of the fire, the low humming has increased in intensity, becoming a rhythmic vibration deep in your bones. The smoke that now wafts from the fire has taken on an odd smell as well. Something, strange... damp... old... and sickeningly sweet. You can practically taste it. Like something worming its way into your mouth and filling it with the taste of dark places and wet, slimy things.
Not liking the filthy feeling that worms its way into her mouth, Ritsuka does raise up her bow first, and picks up an arrow from its quiver. It is not like she is likely to kill anyone, sanctuary is active, after all, or should be. And so, she raises up her bow as she slowly begins to make her way over, measuring the distance. The arrow is readied, but the bowstring not pulled back. She murmurs, likely inaudible under the humming "Sometimes you just need to crash a ritual. Too close to my home and today, I have no spoons left to be discrete enough." Her eyes do keep an eye to the underbrush besides her and next to her, there is hushed voices and she is ready to let loose should someone step out, aiming for leg or arm and a non vital part of their body, or the weakest. She can see their weakness, after all, but if left to tread close enough, she will pellet an arrow from the maximum distance, that is 90 feet.
Ritsuka would have bow discipline at 45 with a bow in hand.
The feeling only grows stronger, a choking, wet sensation sliding down your throat one moment, then fading back into vague unease the next. As Ritsuka moves through the forest closer to the fire, the rustling increases in frequency, now accompanied by more, unsettling noises. The sound of wet, squelching footsteps from behind, but if Ritsuka turns around, there is nothing but a pair of large, slimy footprints on the ground, inches behind her. Turn around and face the fire again, and Ritsuka would be able to swear she felt cold, fetid breath on the back of her neck. But again, if she turns around, there is nothing, and even the footprints would be gone. The fire is closer now, only 50 yards away. The sight in the circle of light is alarming at best. The lumps seen before are in fact people, bound and gagged, and being lifted into place on a makeshift stone altar. Surrounding the fire is a stone circle, each rock engraved with runes that look like summoning runes, though these must be much more powerful ones than that Ritsuka would have ever seen. On the altar, a carving has been etched into the top, that of a massive maw surrounded by tentacles that reach out to wrap around the stone. Around the fire, at least seventy robed figures prepare the five captives, placing one on the altar and positioning the others next to it. One figure, seemingly the leader, is chanting something in an unknown language. Each word causing a strange squirming feeling within your mind, as if something otherworldly were trying to crawl out through your memories. As the seconds pass, the humming and odd taste increase in potency. Around Ritsuka, the sounds of human movement have become louder, deafening even, though nothing has appeared... yet.
Ritsuka slides the concealed weapon a little bit closer into place, but her focus now falls onto the leader directly. Innocent people ahead, soon to be harmed? That can certainly not be allowed. Once, on a brief look behind herself, she also turns to her home, to the cherry blossom that's overhanging it, and to the mistletoe, brief wonder if the little nature spirit, a black ball was observing the entire happening, but who is to ever tell with such spirits? And that means her only way, for the moment, is forward.
Her steps become a little quicker, she is not stealthy by any means, but at least, her steps forward are stable and if she manages to get close enough, she begins to pull the arrow back and aim for the leader... and let loose.
The leader is currently ignoring everything but their chanting, robes shifting in an unfelt breeze. As Ritsuka draws back the string of her bow to fire upon the leader and end the unprotected cultist, a cold, wet hand clamps around her hand, the grip like iron. Looking down, the hand is an abomination of something that might have once been human. Rubbery tentacles wrapped into fingers tipped by gnashing mouthes, barely held away from Ritsuka's skin. Slime coats the appendage, that has far too many fingers, far too small wrists, or is it one wrist? Focusing on it only seems to blur it more. The slime smells of the taste in your mouth, foul and unnatural. The cold, fetid breath comes steadily now, as whatever creature standing behind Ritsuka wraps a long, too long rubbery arm around Ritsuka from behind. The fingers of the free hand, or is it another hand? reach towards Ritsuka's face, and just before touching... the thing is gone, as if it had never been. The only evidence that the ordeal was more than imagined, is the slime still sticking to Ritsuka's hand. Where it touches her skin, it burns like acid. The cultist leader continues to chant, but figures around the fire stiffen. A group of them turn in eerie unison to begin a halting march towards Ritsuka's position. Their gait is not human, but something unused to the human body. Learning. Slow and clumsy. The six cultists troop closer.
Ritsuka lets out a sigh, she was about to grab for her concealed weapon to strike back against whatever tried to touch her, and then there is another sigh, as whatever burn tries to heal itself quickly again. Still, the creatures are stepping closer, it is a risk and she better starts depleting them now, or wound them in some fashion, before they get close enough. Because those beings, clearly do not enjoy Sanctuary, monsters, form what she may guess by their gate, that could very well harm her. And so, she draws another arrow, this time aiming for one of the troops.
As Ritsuka draws her arrow, she can clearly see only one weakness on these creatures, the head. It is unclear why, but it is like an urging, a gentle guide towards the cultist's heads. The acidic slime clings tenaciously to Ritsuka's skin, the burning slow and painful and insistent, but not something that will hender Ritsuka much.
Ritsuka lines her arrow up towards the head of one of the creatures, and tries for her arrows to hit on the head. Her steps, though slower than forward, try to make for a few backward, trying to control the distance between herself and them. Unfortunately for her, she is not a fast runner, and if they are, they may well gain on her, let alone that she will not withdraw too far away, she has to be able to get forward enough to attempt save the innocent.
The first arrow misses only barely, striking the creature in the throat. This is what reveals what has happened to these cultists. Instead of blood and slow death, a gout of slime erupts from the cultist's throat. The next arrow finds its mark in the cultist's forehead, and the head pops like an overfilled balloon, gray brain matter splattering everywhere, accompanied by slime and a horrid rotten smell. The slime spatters the other cultists, but they do not even react. The creatures are also fortunately, very slow, moving at barely a shamble. The other cultists are starting to turn however, and shambling footsteps can be heard approaching from behind. The leader of the cultists, still ignoring what is happening, draws a long, crudely made stone dagger from in their robes, stepping up to the captive on the altar, a woman who appears to be in her late 30s. The other captives seem to be her family, as the two children and teenager with her resemble her and the bound man. The leader raises the dagger, a pulsing orb of slime forming on the tip. Another arrow finds its mark, another cultist's head exploding. As they amass in front of Ritsuka, it becomes easy to hit the cultists, though it is like spitting in a storm, as every arrow that does not cause one cultist to die simply causes a fountain of slime.
"One would sometimes wish I was actually a combat specialist and not a professional-" Ritsuka quietly says, taking now a moment to attempt to aim for the leader again. "Not like I can get close to them, but there is more behind me." All in Japanese, of course, but it means she does start to move towards the ritual site. Arrows, of course, are also not unlimited, but her focus stays on the leader, now trying to circle sidways, away from behind herself and a little forward. Be it that something draws too close, or her quiver simply runs empty, she comes to sling the bow around herself again, and the her hands quickly draw her katana, moving the sheath a little forward and moving the sheath back, drawing the blade into position very quickly.
Fortunately, Ritsuka is able to easily maneuver around. Whatever is possessing these cultists is slow, and the ones behind her are still far off. Before she runs out of arrows, five left to be exact, Ritsuka is able to move to within ten feet of the altar and the leader. The leader has readied the dagger, and is chanting as they raise it over the woman, who looks, understandablly, terrified. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch movement, a blur of motion, a rubbery hand reaching out, gnashing mouthes, a wormlike body, froglike legs, and a sucker filled with teeth for a face. The creatures stalk through the edge of your view, never seeming to come fully into being or view.
Turning quickly to the creature that just escapes her vision again, Ritsuka lets out a bit of a sigh, but it is not what matters now. A risk, likely to jump her in her back, but the innocent matter, and so, she sprints towards the cultist leader, her katana coming into view, holding it close to herself, angled from her waist forward with the blade left on eye-level of the cultist leader. Her aim is for the head, while internally, she prepares to be jumped, and to quickly jump to the side to continue forward.
The leader finally takes notice, turning towards Ritsuka. "So. A willing sacrifice. Let the ritual begin." With unearthly speed, that not possessed by the other cultists, the leader parries Ritsuka's katana, lunging forward and slashing wildly with the dagger, chanting all the while. Each word is agony, conjuring forth a tearing, clawlike sensation within your mind. The creatures, large worm things with eight, froglike legs and insectoid faces with slimy carapaces, come into full view. However, the edges of their forms are blurred, as if they are not entirely in this world. Even so, they still lash out, causing if not scratches or nicks, then general annoyance with tiny gnashing teeth. The ground as well erupts, insects of all sizes and types surging up to engulf Ritsuka as the cultist advances, but swatting at them or crushing them reveals no resistance, as if they are not really there...
Ritsuka shivers at the tangly mess of insects, and the little scratches and nicks they cause, it gives her to grimace and by instinct, first try to swipe them away, and yet, it doesn't do anything. The cultist's leader however, does, or did. Her grimace tracks, but her eyes focus onto him, thee katana held in front of herself, the tip of the blade on eye level with the leader. "You should just go and die. I'm sure your evil spirit won't be too happy if you delay." Still, of course, in Japanese. Her teeth grit when she takes a step forward, and attempts to swap against the leader's dagger, testing his defense for an opening and trying to leverage the length of her katana to keep him away and to his disadvantage.
Ritsuka is able to easily resist the pain of the nicks, the wounds healing almost instantly. However, the dagger's slime is beginning to dull the edge of her katana when they connect. The cultist seems to be skilled, unnaturally so. But there is a weakness in everyone... A opening is presented in the form of the cultist's wild fighting. In a lunge, the cultist exposes his chest for a brief moment, only a breath of a moment...
And Ritsuka takes it, looking to deflect the leader's dagger away from herself and then to stab. Likely, it is not a lethal strike, if sanctuary is in place and he knows it, then it would protect him, and she would aim for the hit to be wounding, enough to incapacitate, but not enough to kill. On the other hand, if his is a red aura, be it because he is like the other creatures or another reason that the man does not have his sanctuary protection, the stab is intended to be lethal as deep blue eyes turn frozen cold.
The cultist is apparently, not under sanctuary, as becomes clear when Ritsuka's katana pierces through his chest, meeting almost no resistance as a gout of slime splashes out. The acidic fluid covers Ritsuka, burning and itching, but nothing that the healing can't handle. The leader drops to the ground, coughing. The dagger clatters to the ground, shattering upon impact. The innocents are unguarded now, but for how long the cultist will stay down, and how long it will take the others to make it to Ritsuka, it is unclear. The creatures have faded almost entirely fortunately, and the insects begin to pop or sink into the ground.
Ritsuka turns away from the cultist, she looks like a mess and she reaches up once with a single hand to wipe away what slime she can, and then she turns to the family. Though her blade is not so sharp anymore, she uses it to tie away rope or hand bindings. "Follow me, I am going to get you to safety. Keep holding on to another, and do not let go. Do not look back." She gestures towards the direction of her house "There is a house, stay by it and wait for help to arrive." This she says in english, though some exhaustion does draw over her. She follows after them, and besides them, but keeps an eye on them, to protect them, though there is a brief moment where her gaze does turn back, once, to the ritual site.
As Ritsuka leads the family hurriedly through the forest, the sound of shambling grows louder as the cultists begin to gain ground. However, when Ritsuka reaches her house, the sound stops. Glancing back, the ritual site would have been a mess of slime and severed bits of tentacle. Glancing back now, the area is simply... gone. No fire. No shambling cultists. Even turning to where the family was moments before, there is nothing. The night is silent. The house is silent. The sounds of the forest fill the air.
But not nothing where the family was...
No. Not nothing at all. Where the five stood, there are five, misshapen, slimy, footsteps.
Each footprint matches to that of the creatures. The footprints head off towards the fire site. Slime seeping into the ground slowly. There is no sign of the family, or cultists.
Ritsuka lets out a groan as she steps out of her own shoes at the entrance. And like the most stereotypical Asian, she complains, shouting after them "Do you see this! And I have to clean this now! You should pay rent if you're planning to stay nearby! So much effort and trouble just for you to leave everything dirty. You are a disappointment! Unbelievable!" She throws up her hands, and then goes on to, well, clean it.
Only silence returns Ritsuka's perfectly reasonable lecture. Crickets churp. The wind rustles the leaves. Once Ritsuka has headed back inside, all is silent. There is no movement outside. However, if Ritsuka returns to where this whole ordeal all begun, a few disturbing things are of note. First, her phone and faction com are lying on the chair where she sat. And nothing but slimy puddles have replaced what she previously held... Second, her clothing that she wore is still all here, everything from before now gone and replaced by what she wore before. And beside where Ritsuka sat, is a large, foul puddle of slime...
"If you want to live here you need to be more polite!" Ritsuka lectures to the sound of crickets, while looking at the puddle of slime "So rude these entities sometimes. It is unbelievable!" Though at this point it is just light at heart, and so, it goes on to clean that puddle, too. Though she does look up, to a black ball that opens its yellow eyes to her and she shrugs to it.
Ritsuka's every move is met with resistance; from the acidic touch of an unseen, monstrous entity, to the unnatural behaviors of the cultists now revealed as monstrous beings themselves. Despite the daunting opposition, she perseveres, focusing on the cult leader in a tense showdown that concludes with Ritsuka victoriously puncturing the leader's chest with her katana. This decisive strike disrupts the ritual and dissipates the immediate threat, freeing the captives. Escaping back to the safety of her home, Ritsuka discovers an unnerving silence has reclaimed the forest, and the horrors that unfolded seem to evaporate as if they were never there. Yet the remnants of the encounter—the slime and the inexplicable disappearance of what she fought so hard to protect—linger as haunting evidence of the night's surreal events. Despite the ordeal's bizarre conclusion, Ritsuka's resolve remains unshaken, her actions a testament to her courage and determination to protect her home from the encroaching darkness.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SRLanaeis):SRLanaeis)
[Thu Oct 3 2024]
In The Heart of a Shrine House
Soft sunlight filters through narrow wooden slats along the ceiling, casting dappled patterns on the polished wooden floors. A branch of a tree seems to carry along just enough above one slat by the side, and some green, mistletoe, manages to just peer into the room. At the room's center is a low, circular table made of rich, dark wood, surrounded by zabuton cushions arranged with precise care. Hanging scrolls adorned with calligraphy of sacred Shinto prayers and natural landscapes line the walls.
In the northeast corner of the room rests a larger kamidana, its small torii gate framing the sacred space. Fresh offerings of water and evergreen sprigs sit before the altar, paying homage to the kami that protect the home. A subtle scent of burning sandalwood incense lingers in the air, and the rhythmic tinkling of a nearby wind chime adds a layer allows for an occasional peaceful sound.
An elaborate and expensive looking statue of a nine-tailed kitsune stands right besides the altar in a resting position. A small ball of golden light shimmers from between its ears and a bowl with dry rice stands besides it.
It is night, about 63F(17C) degrees, There is a waxing crescent moon.
(Your target stumbles upon a ritual being conducted by members of The Black Flame. They are attempting to summon an eldritch horror into our world, which would cause untold destruction. The ritual is being conducted in a secluded forest, and is heavily guarded by cultists. The target must find a way to interrupt the ritual and neutralize the cultists without drawing attention to themselves, or risk facing the wrath of the eldritch horror. As they navigate the forest, they will also be hunted by the cultists, who will do anything to protect their ritual.)
Ritsuka has settled into her home. She looks a little weary and tired and sits by the table on a pillow, hands on her own lap, phone in one hand. She yawns into the back of her hand and leans against the table.
Ritsuka has settled into her home. She looks a little weary and tired and sits by the table on a pillow, hands on her own lap, phone in one hand. She yawns into the back of her hand and leans against the table. She is far from the city, about 650 feet from the city, out in the forest to the north of Haven. The house itself is not heated, despite it getting colder but she is also garbed into her own kimono, keeping her warm as autumn slowly descends to winter.
The night that has fallen is a particularly dark one, the mists in the forest seeming more dense than they usually do. Outside, the usual noises of the forest are mostly unbroken, besides some strange, barely noticeable differences, almost too vague to be picked out from the normal sounds. A hushed noise, whispering? or just the wind through the trees? Footsteps? Or is it just some animal moving around outside? Its not something that would catch your attention immediately, but just strange if one were to be listening. What is strange however, is the smell of smoke filtering in from outside. The light from outside is increased, a bonfire like a beacon rising up in the distance where there was none before.
Ritsuka lets out a deep sigh. Up to her feet she goes, making a bow to the kitsune statue hold a kitsune's star stone, and her eyes peek up to see the little nature spirit that's settled into the mistletoe in the tree above. Another deep breathe in, and she opens the sliding door, reaches for her wardrobe and begins to switch out her kimono. This new one is read, and most of all, contains internal ballistic layering and comes with a hakama. Next, she reaches around for her backpack, retrieving a katana that is set at her left hip, in a hole of the hakama, and a yami bow. This kimono is red, and her weapons and bow, and even the concealed weapon on her, show little adorations of kitsune and the radiant sun.
As Ritsuka looks out the window, she is able to see clearly through the darkness, which is helped by the light from the fire. Even with it being far off, it is clearly visible. It appears to be your usual bonfire, aside from the fact that it is deep in the forest at night. It is surrounded by figures, moving around purposefully. Through the darkness, Ritsuka can see five lumps at the edge of the firelight, the figures occaSionally moving over to and away from them. As Ritsuka watches, a few of the figures exit the firelight, becoming shrouded in darkness. Those that remain begin to gather around the fire, appearing to be doing something encircling the blaze. Whatever it is, any contemplation about it is broken when a low humming fills the air, originating from the direction of the fire.
Ritsuka rolls her eyes, and she goes on to pick up her phone. Enter, she does press the number for a contact, to someone called Yuki. Her next words do switch to her more native language, Japanese. "Good evening, Yuki. I might need your help with something. I am pretty sure I see some freaks do a ritual in the forest. Never a good idea to go alone. Can you help me? Could use someone from a military to give backup." Whatever the conversation, she does goes on to step towards the door, and then tries to speak into her communicator, just to let them, the order, know what she is doing so she can be found in the worst case.
There is another sigh, she slips into armored boots at the entrance and then goes on to leave the house, locking it up behind herself, and turning around to walk around the house to the north, past a kami shrine that is besides her courtyard.
"Sure thing, I can be there in 5 minutes, is that alright?" As the conversation goes on, a static crackling begins to be heard from the phone. The same noise is slowly increasing on the faction com as well, not quite overpowering, but definitely present. As for the fire, the figures aren't visible from here, but rustling is audible in the forest surrounding the house. Movement, and lots of it. The sound of hushed voices is heard from somewhere not far off to the right. From the direction of the fire, the low humming has increased in intensity, becoming a rhythmic vibration deep in your bones. The smoke that now wafts from the fire has taken on an odd smell as well. Something, strange... damp... old... and sickeningly sweet. You can practically taste it. Like something worming its way into your mouth and filling it with the taste of dark places and wet, slimy things.
Not liking the filthy feeling that worms its way into her mouth, Ritsuka does raise up her bow first, and picks up an arrow from its quiver. It is not like she is likely to kill anyone, sanctuary is active, after all, or should be. And so, she raises up her bow as she slowly begins to make her way over, measuring the distance. The arrow is readied, but the bowstring not pulled back. She murmurs, likely inaudible under the humming "Sometimes you just need to crash a ritual. Too close to my home and today, I have no spoons left to be discrete enough." Her eyes do keep an eye to the underbrush besides her and next to her, there is hushed voices and she is ready to let loose should someone step out, aiming for leg or arm and a non vital part of their body, or the weakest. She can see their weakness, after all, but if left to tread close enough, she will pellet an arrow from the maximum distance, that is 90 feet.
Ritsuka would have bow discipline at 45 with a bow in hand.
The feeling only grows stronger, a choking, wet sensation sliding down your throat one moment, then fading back into vague unease the next. As Ritsuka moves through the forest closer to the fire, the rustling increases in frequency, now accompanied by more, unsettling noises. The sound of wet, squelching footsteps from behind, but if Ritsuka turns around, there is nothing but a pair of large, slimy footprints on the ground, inches behind her. Turn around and face the fire again, and Ritsuka would be able to swear she felt cold, fetid breath on the back of her neck. But again, if she turns around, there is nothing, and even the footprints would be gone. The fire is closer now, only 50 yards away. The sight in the circle of light is alarming at best. The lumps seen before are in fact people, bound and gagged, and being lifted into place on a makeshift stone altar. Surrounding the fire is a stone circle, each rock engraved with runes that look like summoning runes, though these must be much more powerful ones than that Ritsuka would have ever seen. On the altar, a carving has been etched into the top, that of a massive maw surrounded by tentacles that reach out to wrap around the stone. Around the fire, at least seventy robed figures prepare the five captives, placing one on the altar and positioning the others next to it. One figure, seemingly the leader, is chanting something in an unknown language. Each word causing a strange squirming feeling within your mind, as if something otherworldly were trying to crawl out through your memories. As the seconds pass, the humming and odd taste increase in potency. Around Ritsuka, the sounds of human movement have become louder, deafening even, though nothing has appeared... yet.
Ritsuka slides the concealed weapon a little bit closer into place, but her focus now falls onto the leader directly. Innocent people ahead, soon to be harmed? That can certainly not be allowed. Once, on a brief look behind herself, she also turns to her home, to the cherry blossom that's overhanging it, and to the mistletoe, brief wonder if the little nature spirit, a black ball was observing the entire happening, but who is to ever tell with such spirits? And that means her only way, for the moment, is forward.
Her steps become a little quicker, she is not stealthy by any means, but at least, her steps forward are stable and if she manages to get close enough, she begins to pull the arrow back and aim for the leader... and let loose.
The leader is currently ignoring everything but their chanting, robes shifting in an unfelt breeze. As Ritsuka draws back the string of her bow to fire upon the leader and end the unprotected cultist, a cold, wet hand clamps around her hand, the grip like iron. Looking down, the hand is an abomination of something that might have once been human. Rubbery tentacles wrapped into fingers tipped by gnashing mouthes, barely held away from Ritsuka's skin. Slime coats the appendage, that has far too many fingers, far too small wrists, or is it one wrist? Focusing on it only seems to blur it more. The slime smells of the taste in your mouth, foul and unnatural. The cold, fetid breath comes steadily now, as whatever creature standing behind Ritsuka wraps a long, too long rubbery arm around Ritsuka from behind. The fingers of the free hand, or is it another hand? reach towards Ritsuka's face, and just before touching... the thing is gone, as if it had never been. The only evidence that the ordeal was more than imagined, is the slime still sticking to Ritsuka's hand. Where it touches her skin, it burns like acid. The cultist leader continues to chant, but figures around the fire stiffen. A group of them turn in eerie unison to begin a halting march towards Ritsuka's position. Their gait is not human, but something unused to the human body. Learning. Slow and clumsy. The six cultists troop closer.
Ritsuka lets out a sigh, she was about to grab for her concealed weapon to strike back against whatever tried to touch her, and then there is another sigh, as whatever burn tries to heal itself quickly again. Still, the creatures are stepping closer, it is a risk and she better starts depleting them now, or wound them in some fashion, before they get close enough. Because those beings, clearly do not enjoy Sanctuary, monsters, form what she may guess by their gate, that could very well harm her. And so, she draws another arrow, this time aiming for one of the troops.
As Ritsuka draws her arrow, she can clearly see only one weakness on these creatures, the head. It is unclear why, but it is like an urging, a gentle guide towards the cultist's heads. The acidic slime clings tenaciously to Ritsuka's skin, the burning slow and painful and insistent, but not something that will hender Ritsuka much.
Ritsuka lines her arrow up towards the head of one of the creatures, and tries for her arrows to hit on the head. Her steps, though slower than forward, try to make for a few backward, trying to control the distance between herself and them. Unfortunately for her, she is not a fast runner, and if they are, they may well gain on her, let alone that she will not withdraw too far away, she has to be able to get forward enough to attempt save the innocent.
The first arrow misses only barely, striking the creature in the throat. This is what reveals what has happened to these cultists. Instead of blood and slow death, a gout of slime erupts from the cultist's throat. The next arrow finds its mark in the cultist's forehead, and the head pops like an overfilled balloon, gray brain matter splattering everywhere, accompanied by slime and a horrid rotten smell. The slime spatters the other cultists, but they do not even react. The creatures are also fortunately, very slow, moving at barely a shamble. The other cultists are starting to turn however, and shambling footsteps can be heard approaching from behind. The leader of the cultists, still ignoring what is happening, draws a long, crudely made stone dagger from in their robes, stepping up to the captive on the altar, a woman who appears to be in her late 30s. The other captives seem to be her family, as the two children and teenager with her resemble her and the bound man. The leader raises the dagger, a pulsing orb of slime forming on the tip. Another arrow finds its mark, another cultist's head exploding. As they amass in front of Ritsuka, it becomes easy to hit the cultists, though it is like spitting in a storm, as every arrow that does not cause one cultist to die simply causes a fountain of slime.
"One would sometimes wish I was actually a combat specialist and not a professional-" Ritsuka quietly says, taking now a moment to attempt to aim for the leader again. "Not like I can get close to them, but there is more behind me." All in Japanese, of course, but it means she does start to move towards the ritual site. Arrows, of course, are also not unlimited, but her focus stays on the leader, now trying to circle sidways, away from behind herself and a little forward. Be it that something draws too close, or her quiver simply runs empty, she comes to sling the bow around herself again, and the her hands quickly draw her katana, moving the sheath a little forward and moving the sheath back, drawing the blade into position very quickly.
Fortunately, Ritsuka is able to easily maneuver around. Whatever is possessing these cultists is slow, and the ones behind her are still far off. Before she runs out of arrows, five left to be exact, Ritsuka is able to move to within ten feet of the altar and the leader. The leader has readied the dagger, and is chanting as they raise it over the woman, who looks, understandablly, terrified. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch movement, a blur of motion, a rubbery hand reaching out, gnashing mouthes, a wormlike body, froglike legs, and a sucker filled with teeth for a face. The creatures stalk through the edge of your view, never seeming to come fully into being or view.
Turning quickly to the creature that just escapes her vision again, Ritsuka lets out a bit of a sigh, but it is not what matters now. A risk, likely to jump her in her back, but the innocent matter, and so, she sprints towards the cultist leader, her katana coming into view, holding it close to herself, angled from her waist forward with the blade left on eye-level of the cultist leader. Her aim is for the head, while internally, she prepares to be jumped, and to quickly jump to the side to continue forward.
The leader finally takes notice, turning towards Ritsuka. "So. A willing sacrifice. Let the ritual begin." With unearthly speed, that not possessed by the other cultists, the leader parries Ritsuka's katana, lunging forward and slashing wildly with the dagger, chanting all the while. Each word is agony, conjuring forth a tearing, clawlike sensation within your mind. The creatures, large worm things with eight, froglike legs and insectoid faces with slimy carapaces, come into full view. However, the edges of their forms are blurred, as if they are not entirely in this world. Even so, they still lash out, causing if not scratches or nicks, then general annoyance with tiny gnashing teeth. The ground as well erupts, insects of all sizes and types surging up to engulf Ritsuka as the cultist advances, but swatting at them or crushing them reveals no resistance, as if they are not really there...
Ritsuka shivers at the tangly mess of insects, and the little scratches and nicks they cause, it gives her to grimace and by instinct, first try to swipe them away, and yet, it doesn't do anything. The cultist's leader however, does, or did. Her grimace tracks, but her eyes focus onto him, thee katana held in front of herself, the tip of the blade on eye level with the leader. "You should just go and die. I'm sure your evil spirit won't be too happy if you delay." Still, of course, in Japanese. Her teeth grit when she takes a step forward, and attempts to swap against the leader's dagger, testing his defense for an opening and trying to leverage the length of her katana to keep him away and to his disadvantage.
Ritsuka is able to easily resist the pain of the nicks, the wounds healing almost instantly. However, the dagger's slime is beginning to dull the edge of her katana when they connect. The cultist seems to be skilled, unnaturally so. But there is a weakness in everyone... A opening is presented in the form of the cultist's wild fighting. In a lunge, the cultist exposes his chest for a brief moment, only a breath of a moment...
And Ritsuka takes it, looking to deflect the leader's dagger away from herself and then to stab. Likely, it is not a lethal strike, if sanctuary is in place and he knows it, then it would protect him, and she would aim for the hit to be wounding, enough to incapacitate, but not enough to kill. On the other hand, if his is a red aura, be it because he is like the other creatures or another reason that the man does not have his sanctuary protection, the stab is intended to be lethal as deep blue eyes turn frozen cold.
The cultist is apparently, not under sanctuary, as becomes clear when Ritsuka's katana pierces through his chest, meeting almost no resistance as a gout of slime splashes out. The acidic fluid covers Ritsuka, burning and itching, but nothing that the healing can't handle. The leader drops to the ground, coughing. The dagger clatters to the ground, shattering upon impact. The innocents are unguarded now, but for how long the cultist will stay down, and how long it will take the others to make it to Ritsuka, it is unclear. The creatures have faded almost entirely fortunately, and the insects begin to pop or sink into the ground.
Ritsuka turns away from the cultist, she looks like a mess and she reaches up once with a single hand to wipe away what slime she can, and then she turns to the family. Though her blade is not so sharp anymore, she uses it to tie away rope or hand bindings. "Follow me, I am going to get you to safety. Keep holding on to another, and do not let go. Do not look back." She gestures towards the direction of her house "There is a house, stay by it and wait for help to arrive." This she says in english, though some exhaustion does draw over her. She follows after them, and besides them, but keeps an eye on them, to protect them, though there is a brief moment where her gaze does turn back, once, to the ritual site.
As Ritsuka leads the family hurriedly through the forest, the sound of shambling grows louder as the cultists begin to gain ground. However, when Ritsuka reaches her house, the sound stops. Glancing back, the ritual site would have been a mess of slime and severed bits of tentacle. Glancing back now, the area is simply... gone. No fire. No shambling cultists. Even turning to where the family was moments before, there is nothing. The night is silent. The house is silent. The sounds of the forest fill the air.
But not nothing where the family was...
No. Not nothing at all. Where the five stood, there are five, misshapen, slimy, footsteps.
Each footprint matches to that of the creatures. The footprints head off towards the fire site. Slime seeping into the ground slowly. There is no sign of the family, or cultists.
Ritsuka lets out a groan as she steps out of her own shoes at the entrance. And like the most stereotypical Asian, she complains, shouting after them "Do you see this! And I have to clean this now! You should pay rent if you're planning to stay nearby! So much effort and trouble just for you to leave everything dirty. You are a disappointment! Unbelievable!" She throws up her hands, and then goes on to, well, clean it.
Only silence returns Ritsuka's perfectly reasonable lecture. Crickets churp. The wind rustles the leaves. Once Ritsuka has headed back inside, all is silent. There is no movement outside. However, if Ritsuka returns to where this whole ordeal all begun, a few disturbing things are of note. First, her phone and faction com are lying on the chair where she sat. And nothing but slimy puddles have replaced what she previously held... Second, her clothing that she wore is still all here, everything from before now gone and replaced by what she wore before. And beside where Ritsuka sat, is a large, foul puddle of slime...
"If you want to live here you need to be more polite!" Ritsuka lectures to the sound of crickets, while looking at the puddle of slime "So rude these entities sometimes. It is unbelievable!" Though at this point it is just light at heart, and so, it goes on to clean that puddle, too. Though she does look up, to a black ball that opens its yellow eyes to her and she shrugs to it.