Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Mission One Post Ritual - A Witch's Summons

Taking guidance from Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin and this thread, its time for another bit of the Force to be brought forward.

This one from Witches of Dathomir. Some may have found this ritual in stolen books of knowledge from the Witches, or holocrons of those who have stolen the knowledge, or been given it. Not all Witches are Nightsisters, there are others who will use their skills to help people, and perhaps even share this knowledge.

What is the Summoning Spell?
The Summoning Spell is a witch spell performed on the dying or recently deceased creature. The more it is connected to the Force, the stronger the future summon. Calling on the spirit of the creature, the Witch connects to it, and links it to a totem, to be able to summon its spirit in the future. Some creatures have a lean towards combat and others towards a different existence, and this should be taken into consideration. The crux of the spell is a ‘Song of Promise’ giving the spirit what it needs to allow it to return from the nether plane to the Summoner.





894 ABY
Kattada


The hunt had gone well. Brooke and the Clan were out harvesting the Blue Corals on the western flat, farther from shore than the rest of the corals, the water there a bit deeper, the corals a lighter blue. Perfect for healing potions. The clan was thanking the sea as they loaded the polyps of the coral, but not the full base-coral, into their woven baskets. Brooke, as one of the more advanced Diver, was surfacing and checking for ships. But also coming around and checking for predators.

She had seen Hardbacks, and had already performed the very specific ritual to create a Summons out of one of them, but today, she didn’t have that particular totem with her, assuming the trip here to be a Daiquiri Run. She was wrong.

A school of Serpents had arrived and were starting to circle the witches. Before Brooke could even call out under the water, the smaller ones struck out. Her clan had lost two sisters in an instant, before blast of blue lightning were sent around from others. Instinct caused her to reach for her Hardback totem.

It was missing.

She swam forward, her pike at the ready. She was an aquatic species and had the advantage to some of the Dathomiri, and human members of the clan. Diving fast, she struck hard and true. The large Alpha falling with her efforts.

“Get the clan back home. I’ll follow…”


Swimming up to the body of the Serpent, Brooke reached out to the ichor flowing through the Blue Corals. She could feel the connection to the Dathomir Magick, even this far off the world, thanks to the Corals and their blending to the Sedri corals, the Golden Sun. Reaching, she could feel the life as it was draining from the Serpent.

Pulling on it, she was singing a song of healing, a song of connection. A song of promise for prey on many a different worlds.

A small hunk of coral in her hands, she pulled the spirit towards it. The pressure of resistance encouraged her song of promise to be sung louder, stronger prey, delicious prey. Challenges and the ability to be feared.

Brooke withheld the protective nature of how she would use this predator. It would learn.

The sun was high in the sky when she began, and was low on the horizon now. Her hand now held a small shaped totem, the coral blending and melding into the shape of her Serpent.

A smile on her face as she nodded. It was time to go.
 
INTERGALACTIC VOID
LONGJUMPER'S MARK EXPEDITION
CIRCA 902 ABY

The vast ship caught its bearings once in a while, recalculated its next few jumps, took samples of interstellar gas, checked engine stress. In such interludes, with the Prime Galaxy small enough to cover with his thumb, Tilon spent his time on the viewing decks. Many people did: there were curios even out this far, Purrgils for example, and today a dead one. He was by no means alone up here when he started singing a certain Dathomiri song.

He sang to the desiccated Purrgil. It wasn't a binding - he'd been careful of that - just an invitation. Song of promise, was the translation. And it did seem lonely out here.

The song, so far as he understood it in the source he'd consulted, required a totem of sorts. As it happened he'd visited another dead Purrgil recently, when the Longjumper's Mark responded to a deep-space distress call. He still had a piece of Purrgil bone; he'd felt it was important. Now as the song echoed through the viewing gallery, he held up a talisman he'd carved from that bone. Kinship was the promise, and that told him more than he'd expected about himself. The purrgil's spirit, vast and alien and at least partially unknowable, responded to that promise and came along for the ride.
 

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