Blood, Gore, and Language Warning for this Post
(also large post)
As the last of the passengers and none Cult members of the crew fell asleep the lanterns in the ships were blown out with the exception of three on every boat one on each end and the lantern that the crewman carried who was on nightwatch duty.
Owen stood on the stern of the boat and looked out at the two other boats slightly behind them and on either sides. Owen flashed the shutter on his lantern a few times and got a response from the other two nightwatchers on the other boats. Fellow cultists were on watch tonight.
Spike whimpered slightly with concern as Owen stepped back down and headed below deck. Everyone was asleep, four members of the crew remained awake. They had gone to the lowest part of the ship, below the cargo and into the weapons and munitions storage. There was not much there as the expedition was not expecting much conflict in terms of naval conflict but Captain Eudora likes to be prepared, something left over from her pirating days.
There were three more members there now for a total of seven one of the three new members being a woman, counting Owen would make eight. Owen knew what to do. He hung his lamp on a hook by the entrance and walked to the center of the room, there was a large pot of thick red liquid that gave off a strong metallic smell. Owen took out his journal and flipped through several pages before stopping. On the page was a drawing of three interlocking circles around a fourth larger one in the center. Various other demonic symbols were drawn intricately around, within, and intertwining around one another. The three hidden members had been stowaways that moved about during the night to stretch and eat some food, but remained hidden deep in the ship's cargo.
The quarter master handed Owen four long handle painter brushes, and Owen handed him his journal. Owen then proceeded to dip both ends of each brush into the container of thick crimson blood. He held both hand out in front of him as the four brushes floated off on their own each drawing one of the four circles pictured in his journal. They re-dipped themselves whenever the blood on them seemed slightly low. After ten or so minuets Owen had recreated the symbol from his journal down to the smallest detail. During that time the three new members of the group had stripped down to nothing but their underwear and were chanting in a demonic tongue quietly as Owen worked. They were kneeling in a circle around the circles that Owen was drawing.
Spike was sitting on the landing of the stairs that would lead to the room, half paying attention to the ritual and half on lookout duty. "This is it, the ritual seal is complete." Owen took a step back and looked at his work. "The candles and the blood offering is up to the rest of you guys."
The quartermaster nodded and turned to the six other members. "Alright, lets get to it. He began placing several blood red candles over select symbols around the three outer rings and lit them as he did so. The three nearly naked cultists knelt down in the center of each of the three outer rings, the woman being in the one closest to the center larger fourth ring. The three remaining cultists were standing equidistant from one another around the whole thing as the Quartermaster paced around in an even larger circle around them.
Owen was slightly trembling, his teeth chattering and legs feeling weak. He was no stranger to these rituals but this was a different case. He collected his journal and replaced it into his sash. The Quartermaster began chanting in a low voice a slow impossible warm wind began to blow in the enclosed room in a swirl around the symbol on the ground. The light and fire from the lantern that Owen had carried down turned into a vivid red color. The three kneeling cultists extended their arms outwards to their sides, they craned their necks upwards as they looked to the ceiling, their irises were a bright glowing crimson color. The three standing cultists each took out a ritual dagger and stabbed it into both wrists of each of the kneeling members making deep length cuts down their forearms.
Their blood spilled out but it was never fell down wards, instead the blood flew out of their wounds towards the center of the fourth circle, circling around the blood of the other two members before enough blood was collected and a small rotating sphere was suspended several feet off the ground with thin tendrils of blood that connected the sphere to the wrists of each member.
The floor in the center of the fourth ring fell away and was replaced by darkness, something otherworldly that seemed to devour the light and looking at it gave a tingling sensation to the back of ones mind that would drive someone insane after prolonged exposure. Owen closed his eyes and fell onto his knees, sick to his stomach. He could feel some of his life force being pulled to feed the ritual. At that moment the three standing cultists took their daggers and drove it deep into the necks of the kneeling members and ripped apart their throats nearly severing their heads but not quite. They held their heads back allowing the blood to pour out and feed into the floating orb. When there was no more blood the three cultists released their bodies and the bodies were pulled into the blackness of the fourth ring. The darkness was like a blender gibing the corpses and the black hole was filled with flesh and bone forming a new floor. The three standing cultists backed away from the floating orb. The four members were all chanting in unison during all of this, their eyes turned into a glowing crimson red from their natural color.
The massive floating perfectly shaped blood orb increased in it rotational speed, the warm swirling winds were even stronger now. The blood orb was like a vortex pulling the wind.
SPLOOSH!
The orb smashed into the ground of flesh and bone, but it did not just splash it formed what looked like a spinning column of blood that connected the floor to the ceiling. The center of the pillar suddenly inflated then exploded spraying and covering the room with blood stains. Owen was nearly hit but he was far enough away that he avoided it. The four remaining cultists were blown back onto their butts, completely splattered red. In the center of the fourth ring where there was the floor of flesh and bone stood something not quite human, very long and voluminous snow white silvery hair, white and grey colored fur, a long bushy tail covered with long fur of the same colors slightly curled around the body. The creature was crouching before it slowly stood up. The four cultists scrambled onto their hands and knees and crawled to the summoned being prostrating around it in a circle.
A vicious sounding growl came from the being, "What's that smell?" the being asked quietly the voice guttural like a growling wolf but clearly female. "...the sweet blood, oh, it sings to me. It's enough to make anyone sick." She said as she stood up slowly, craning her head in an arc taking in a deep breath. As she did so, the blood mist in the air was visibly drawn quickly into her nose. She exhaled the mist from her mouth as a glowing red breath that faded into nothing. Her eyes were looking down at the four prostrating cultists. Her blood red sclera were glowing in the dim light along with her silver glowing irises. Her sharp teeth were bared in a silent snarl.
Owen managed to stand back up. Spike was cowering behind him in the corner. "Hey, calm down, we'll be fine." He assured the scared Pokémon sitting back down next to Spike and holding him close.
With an upward gesture of her right hand the four cultists were levitated into the air around her unable to move. she spun them around looking each one in the face briefly. "Who's idea was it to summon me here?" being asked, the four cultists were still spinning slowing around her like a rotisserie.
"It't was me High Priestess." The Quartermaster stated.
As soon as he owned up, the three remaining cultists were shot out violently across the room, landing with a hard thud that caused Owen to flinch with the sound, but hopefully it was not loud enough the alert anyone awake. "Why the FUCK!" the creature hissed leaning towards the Quartermaster, her sharp teeth and fangs dangerously close to his neck, "Have you summoned me here?" she was practically shaking with rage. Owen could see stray strands of her hair quivering as she trembled with anger.
"I thought---" was he was able to manage before the creature violently bit down and tore the Quartermaster's throat with one lightning quick motion. She opened her maw and his throat fell out onto the ground as she dropped the gurgling, and twitching body onto he floor as the Quartermaster rapidly bled out. She took a quick glance around at the ritual site and her eyes widened. "Owen." she spoke once clear but not loud.
Owen scrambled onto his feet again and quietly went into the blood drenched room. "Wite, I'm sorry I tried to tell them not to, they wouldn't listen...."
Wite was not even looking at Owen but rather her surroundings, "Where the hell are we?"
"This is the ship of Queen Azumi, the ruler of Kelan, they are on a voyage to discover our lands...." Owen was shaking and his teeth were chattering and his legs were going numb, it was quite common to see Wite in such a range around the other cultists, she becomes rather unpredictable.
Wite sneered, "The three of you," she pulled the three cultists that she thrown out back around her levitating them around her again, "Go about the ship in your usual disguises, and pretend nothings has happened, you cross me again and your punishment will be even more severe than it already will be." The three cultists left the room quickly, as they left, every speck of blood on their body and clothes were pulled out towards Wite, spinning around her like thin wisps of smoke. She snapped her fingers and all the blood in the room lifted itself cleanly off every surface and formed into a large sphere in the palm of her extended hand including the ritual circle, the pot of blowed used to draw the circle, and the blood from her fur and mouth. The, now dead, Quartermaster's body was turned into a dried husk as the blood was extracted from it into the orb. "Listen here Owen, although I have enough blood here to probably kill everyone on this ship, as much as I hate it, we will need their assistance for what we need." She slowly closed her extended hand with the orb of blood over it and the orb quickly began to shrink and condense. "I'm going to teleport myself into the water quite a bit of distance in front of the ship, wait for a while then alert the ship and come get me, then play along, I trust you're not dumb as the others." Wite seemed to exert a massive amount of strength to close her hand as the orb had gotten so small and concentrated that it appeared to become a blood red crystal.
"Teleportation takes a massive amount of magic..." Owen began, but stopped when he saw Wite hold the gem close to her mouth and she exhaled a light blueish almost white smokey viscous substance from her breath, the texture of the substance appeared to have a face on it. Owen looked at it for a few seconds before he realized he was looking at the soul of the Quartermaster. Wite breathed the soul into the blood gem and a white vibrantly glowing spec appeared in the center of the gem.
"Do you know how much magic the raw soul of something contains? This will be more than enough. Now get back on deck." Wite spun her finger around and Owen did as well following the motion of her finger. Wite took one last look around the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary, every trace of blood had been cleaned, the only thing left was the husk of the Quartermaster, she picked it up and held it under her free arm as she held the glowing blood stone in the other, and she knelt down. 'Lets get this show on the road....'
Owen took his lamp and briskly walked to the bow of the ship and hung his lantern looking around, and waited. Luckily no one had woken up, perhaps the Quartermaster and cook had snuck in sleeping aids into the meals of the others. A faint flash in the far distance caught Owen's eye, it was several meters under the water so the light was faint, but he knew it was her. His heart raced, and his palms were sweaty and his breaths were uneven and the night air felt colder than normal as he ran to the bell of the ship and began pulling on the rope that would sound the bell. "HEY THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE WATER AHEAD OF US! WAKE UP!" Owen shouted as loudly as he could knowing full well who and what was out there.
