[Joss] The Moot is over, the revel leaving her exhausted, yet thrilled, her slender form not quite ready to sleep – so she sits instead on the banks of Maelstrom, her skirts spread over her knees, Godi bag at her side, as she digs through to get the supplies she’s been collecting through the past few weeks. She seems settled in for a while, as she spills the bones into her lap – killed and claimed in battle, cleansed and broken into smaller pieces.
She pulls her blade from her Godi bag, the dagger her father had given her that he made by his own hand and gifted her with on her Firsting. Just holding it calms her, steadies her, as she feels his hands are guiding her own, as they did so long ago. He taught her the Runes that way, taught her what she would someday carve into her own trophies, gained in battles after she had left the safety of home.
She was loved.
She was prepared.
The time is now.
She takes a breath, and centers herself, finds the place deep inside of her where all things are calm, where all things are serene, and true. Once once she is certain she is ready does she begin to fashion her casting stones.
[Joss]
(Rune Carving wits+rituals d7)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 6, 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Joss] It takes hours, to carefully work each rune into the bone, making the edges clean, smoothing them away until there is nothing left that would catch on anything, making each Norse Lettering perfect.
Hours later, she gathers the the finished stones, and with a smile, charges them with a bit of her spiritual essence.
Mission accomplished.