by Nailah Weaver » Wed Sep 25, 2013 7:56 pm
"That's alright. You don't have to be specific about it as long as there's a connection." she says and goes quiet for a while, only occasionally chanting to herself in what must be ancient Egyptian. Eventually the smoke would begin to make John a little drowsy and there's probably something mixed in with those herbs. How else would he explain that the room seemed much bigger than before. With only the fire-bowl providing a flickering glow he could barely make out the walls anymore outside the small circle of light.
"Ar heka neb t'etet neb t'etu er-a sut..." she almost whispers, yet her voice still seems to echo in the room. Suddenly her eyes open wide, glowing faintly in the hazy light.
"So the stream of Time, swift flowing
Brings the torment of half-knowing,
Dimly rushing, blindly going,
Past the never-trodden crest;
But beyond the groans and grating
Of abhorrent Life, is waiting
Wicked dead-lights, culminating
All the years of fruitless quest."
She begins to sing-song, glowing eyes fixed on John.
"And the voyager, repining,
Hollow winds in dry throats whining,
Sees their wicked red eyes shining,
Black against the leering sky;
Thus the living, lone and sobbing
With the loathesome furies robbing
In the throes of anguish throbbing
Hear the dead ones endless cry."
Her voice grows more agitated, almost feverish.
"Skitt'ring legs in cobwebs creaking,
Ever at the spirit eating,
Things unseen forever fleeting,
Shapes in shadows pale and dry;
Ghastly shades of bygone gladness,
Clawing fiends of future sadness,
Mingle in a cloud of madness
Ever on the soul to lie."
And just like that the room is back to it's normal proportions as Nailah's trance ends. Of course it never changed sizes to begin with. That would be ridiculous.
