“Uh-oh”

 

A rumble vibrates the air across the entire island; it is especially powerful near the Drow caves, so intense that the ground trembles.

Those who are sensitive to magic might notice a change in the atmosphere. Everywhere — from Unseelie territory to the Seelie area, from Wyldings’ land to the Human village — is affected.

Things begin to happen.

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OOC:
╚═════════════════════════════╝

Items are coming alive.

Eating-ware (forks, knives, spoons) hurl food or bend away from your mouth as you try to eat with them.

Chairs begin to dance or run around if you sit on them.

Rugs fly, tables prance around, beds run away, ovens become temperamental.

Shoes try to flee, clothes try to turn themselves backward or escape.

Pillows and cushions try to attack you.

(Use your imagination; let any inanimate object do anything. Have fun!)

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FOIC:
╚═════════════════════════════╝

[16:28:33] Dhuanolil had gone to his room and set the bucket full of items down on the carpet, near his table. Leaning down, he begins to remove an assortment of things: eating-ware, cloths, even stencils and a muffin. Once he places them all on the table, he heads for his book shelf. Stretching up on his toes, he grabs a particular one — its cover bearing the title Hexes, Enchantments, and Conjurations — and pulls it down. He drops it on the table beside his other items and opens it, turning to a bookmarked page in the Enchantments section. He leans over it, crimson eyes locked onto the words.

[16:31:24] Dhuanolil presses a fingertip to the lettering and slowly moves it downward as he scans for what he wants. Eventually it comes to a certain paragraph, and his ears swivel forward. The corners of his mouth curve upward into a slow smile with soon turns into a grin. With a little chuckle, he mutters, “This’s gonna be /good/…” He flips the page, eyes focusing on the spell there. He pauses, before he holds his hands over the items. Remembering some of the things his father had taught him — as well as his experience with undoing the Matron’s enchantment — he closes his eyes briefly, mind beginning to reach out for the magic of the land…His fingers remain splayed, though his expression shifts into one of great concentration.

[16:34:24] Dhuanolil eventually finds the magic. It is there, as it always has been; alive, powerful, and moving. His expression hardening, he sucks in a slow breath through his teeth as he strains to tap into it, and channel it…he feels something begin to happen, a power starting to pour into him and swell until he feels almost weightless. His eyes flash open, glowing a deep violet. They focus on the words in the book, and he begins to mutter the spell. As he speaks it, his hands pass over the items on the table; the energy pours into them, beginning to latch onto them in an enchantment.

[16:37:12] Dhuanolil continues to speak the words of the spell, glowing eyes remain locked on the book…but suddenly things begin to change. He feels the magic — shifting, altering, alive — start to turn, and it crashes over him in a vast wave. His violet eyes widen and he opens his mouth, perhaps to keep speaking or to cry out; but before he can make a sound, the magic suddenly crashes through him, washing out in a great cascade. It crashes into the room and penetrates the walls, washing through the cave and up onto the land.

[16:39:47] Dhuanolil’s knees begin to buckle; unable to keep himself up, the young Drow drops to them as the magic continues to course in a powerful channel through him, beyond his control. A deep rumble vibrates the air, so powerful that the cave seems to tremble; magic, unseen though it might be felt, spills over the cliffs and rushes across the rest of the island. It goes everywhere, touching everything; from the Unseelie area to the Seelie, the Wyldings’ area to the human town, everything is washed over by the energy.

[16:42:30] Dhuanolil remains frozen on the carpet on his knees, eyes blazing as he remains helpless. But soon it begins to lessen, the magic of the land crashing over him ebbing gradually until it wanes entirely. Soon it cuts off, and the violet of Dhuanolil’s eyes fades as he is freed. He sags forward, sucking in a great breath of air. He tries to collect his thoughts; becoming aware that something happened, something he hadn’t planned — but what? –, his dark face pales to a lighter shade of grey. “Uh-oh,” he whispers.

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About Runa The Wild Elf

Wild Elf, nut addict, sleepless, silly
This entry was posted in Blogger Entry, Events at the Isle of Dee, Stories written at the Isle of Dee and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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