The light in the clearing dies from lantern-yellow to fire-red as the denizens of the Far Shore pull down lanterns to burn among the scattered vines and branches that once held prisoners captive. The light of the sigils, too, is growing brighter and more uneven, and more and more of the remaining cultists are wavering, then breaking to flee into the forest. The trees pull away to allow them through before closing again in impenetrable thickets.
It's the central sigil that breaks first, flaring brighter and brighter until the light goes out with a dazzling flash. The lines left behind are now no more than scratches in the muddy forest floor, and they wash or scuff away at a touch. As soon as it dies, though, the magical light in the other sigils brightens, beginning to look strangely unhealthy under the redoubled attacks.
The west sigil goes next, its brilliance scaling up to a blinding flash in the same way, and light from the remaining three begins to pulse, one brightening, then another, with no discernible rhythm. All the remaining cultists flee into the trees before the pulses meet on the eastern sigil and it, too, flares and burns out.
The north and south sigils, opposite one another, begin to flicker. Their light has a greenish cast now, an unhealthy one, green like decay and not the verdant color of the daylight forest. As it brightens, the trees around the edges of the clearing begin to toss wildly, as though thrashing in pain.
Then, for every denizen of the Far Shore in the forest -- whether they are in the central clearing or still lost somewhere in the underbrush -- everything abruptly goes dark.
Starlight returns slowly to find all of them scattered around a wide meadow in the Western District of the Far Shore. There is no forest, nor any of the hooded cultists, anywhere in sight.
The soulless shinki who have been named by a god are all here, although if asked, they claim not to remember anything between entering the forest and reappearing in this meadow. None of the soulless shinki without gods are among the group, nor are they at the temple where they once resided. Strangely, though the soulless with gods are here, a close inspection might reveal that some of them seem to have an extra name somewhere on their body....
It doesn't take long after the forest's disappearance for dozens of white-robed shinki to appear, running towards the group across the meadow. Many of them are scratched, muddied and bearing leaves in their hair or burns on their pristine robes; those shinki are mostly holding weapons. Behind them are others, also muddied, carrying first-aid supplies, blankets, food and water that they quickly begin distributing to the wounded or weakened. They tell anyone who asks that they'd entered the forest too, following the other searchers, and were still fighting their way through it when it disappeared. They will continue searching the meadow and assist anyone who needs it in returning to their temple.
BATTLE END
It's the central sigil that breaks first, flaring brighter and brighter until the light goes out with a dazzling flash. The lines left behind are now no more than scratches in the muddy forest floor, and they wash or scuff away at a touch. As soon as it dies, though, the magical light in the other sigils brightens, beginning to look strangely unhealthy under the redoubled attacks.
The west sigil goes next, its brilliance scaling up to a blinding flash in the same way, and light from the remaining three begins to pulse, one brightening, then another, with no discernible rhythm. All the remaining cultists flee into the trees before the pulses meet on the eastern sigil and it, too, flares and burns out.
The north and south sigils, opposite one another, begin to flicker. Their light has a greenish cast now, an unhealthy one, green like decay and not the verdant color of the daylight forest. As it brightens, the trees around the edges of the clearing begin to toss wildly, as though thrashing in pain.
Then, for every denizen of the Far Shore in the forest -- whether they are in the central clearing or still lost somewhere in the underbrush -- everything abruptly goes dark.
Starlight returns slowly to find all of them scattered around a wide meadow in the Western District of the Far Shore. There is no forest, nor any of the hooded cultists, anywhere in sight.
The soulless shinki who have been named by a god are all here, although if asked, they claim not to remember anything between entering the forest and reappearing in this meadow. None of the soulless shinki without gods are among the group, nor are they at the temple where they once resided. Strangely, though the soulless with gods are here, a close inspection might reveal that some of them seem to have an extra name somewhere on their body....
It doesn't take long after the forest's disappearance for dozens of white-robed shinki to appear, running towards the group across the meadow. Many of them are scratched, muddied and bearing leaves in their hair or burns on their pristine robes; those shinki are mostly holding weapons. Behind them are others, also muddied, carrying first-aid supplies, blankets, food and water that they quickly begin distributing to the wounded or weakened. They tell anyone who asks that they'd entered the forest too, following the other searchers, and were still fighting their way through it when it disappeared. They will continue searching the meadow and assist anyone who needs it in returning to their temple.