Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25476466-20140928204126

First of all, I want to say that the last six months have been amazing. You've been a great friend and companion to me; I promise that our connection has been very organic and real. Just a couple of friends, doing all the things that friends do...watching movies, sharing drinks, chatting in your hot tub under the stars...and, yes, I know that was a ridiculously expensive birthday present. But, champ; you deserve it for being such a great friend. I've been using it just as much as you, so, really, it was almost a gift to myself...

Ok, time to come clean. You've been piecing it together more and more all the time you clever person, you. It will be a huge relief to me now that it's time to come out and admit it; I'm your sponsor to the Bone Covenant. I didn't completely pay for that hot tub, it wasn't purely my connections that got you that sweet entry-level IT job, etc etc...but I did contribute. Everything I do and have is both the results of my own efforts and that of my brothers in the Covenant. Yes, I friended you under the Covenant's directive; there was an ulterior motive and an element of fakeness to everything that I am to you. THAT SAID; the Covenant's directive and thus my own is one of sincere friendship; we exist to enhance the lives of each other, to help one another pursue our dreams, whatever they are...I hope you understand that we have to be really, really careful in who we recruit...there was no other choice than to be sneaky, like this. I had to get to know you, the real you...your passions, your motivations, your temperament, all sorts of stuff, before we would feel safe inviting you to join us. Please believe me when I say that it is my sincere love of you as a friend and a person that prompted me to finally give you my sponsorship and go-ahead. That was real to me, and I hope you can forgive the deceptive means given to these ends and take this opportunity to take our friendship and your relationship with the Bone Covenant further. Also realize that I'm taking a chance and waging my own welfare by choosing to trust you with my sponsorship; such is the nature of sponsorship. Up to this point you took a chance and trusted me and the Covenant; now it's our turn to do the same for you. You know what to do with this letter when you're done reading it. With how much advancement in the Covenant relies on your own observation skills and intelligence, I shouldn't have to say that; but we deem it important enough, since this is the one and only time that literature on the Covenant is ever created.

Now to the part of the letter where you finally get in on the know. I'm going to explain to you the inexplicable ritual that you have, for whatever reason personal to you, allowed yourself to be drawn into. Once you understand what has been going on under the surface up to this point, you'll be prepared as best as you can be for the trials that you'll soon face. This is all a good thing; don't worry. As always, everything in the Bone Covenant is consensual and voluntary.

Voluntary and consensual have been the way from the start of your adventure with us. A friend of yours somehow indirectly tells you about the Covenant. Not using the words “Bone Covenant” of course; this is the first time you're hearing that phrase. Perhaps they watch a lot of horror movies with you, perhaps they participated in a fraternity with you in college, perhaps they have known you for years and want to share something wonderful in their life with you, perhaps they sense you need discipline in your life and have the potential to succeed in gaining it through these rituals. Most likely, they just said something along the lines of, “Hey man, want to do something really cool this weekend? Me and some friends get together and do creepy pagan shit and it's metal as hell. You can come, but you have to be real cool about it.” He watches you carefully and if you don't seem excited about it, he laughs it off with you and says he's just kidding. But no, you were intrigued, you came.

Now, it's going to remove a lot of the mystique when I tell you how the Covenant works. But don't worry...it's only going to get better from here on out. Up to this point, you used your head to figure it out the best you could; if you couldn't do that, you wouldn't have gotten this far. Your friend would have needed to give you initial pointers, but there was a lot that was dependent on you. So, you come into out cool little club as a newbie. Your friend who introduced you to the Covenant drove you deep into the woods to a ranch off the Interstate. You may have been creeped out with just how far into the boonies the trip took you and how unoccupied the area appeared. You parked in the woods, with no other car in sight, and walked the rest of the way. You found a run down dilapidated log cabin in the woods, a decaying swing-set, tall rusty skeleton-like metalwork of indeterminate form surrounding the sides of the house in a pattern that almost gestures you to enter. You take a brief walk through the house over uncertain floorboards. The musty smell and tatters of clothes on the ancient furniture reminds you of horror movies you watched at some point in your life. Out the back of the house is a weird old man in a chair with a walky talkie, unusually large and muscular arms for a old guy, and a severe case of old wrinkly face. He gestures to what appears to be the outer entrance of an old crawlspace or wine celler and gives you an odd disjointed smile; if it looks like his face doesn't quite work right like he had a stroke, it's because that's not actually his face.

First spoiler; he's not an old man at all, it's merely Steve with a mask doing door duty. As the official owner of the property, he has every right to be sitting there. With one button on his walky talky, he can signal the Covenant to mechanically seal the entrance to our little club. This is merely to give the members enough time to ascertain the situation and to prep the participants with the proper course of action. Police? We let them in and have the run of the place. No one is armed, there is no illegal paraphernalia. We fully cooperate with the law, safe in the knowledge that there is nothing illegal going on at this site. Disgruntled murderous band of militants or rival covenant? Well, we have an escape route to get everyone out of there. Steve has his own tricks, but guards the entrance while willingly and knowingly putting himself in the most danger. That's why the position of “Steve” is the second highest among the “1's”. More on numerology, later.

So, you walk into a long flight of stairs into our little den. Silence reigns.You pass a storage closet, from which your friend takes two long black hooded robes. You put it on and walk the short remainder of the path in the central corridor. The room walls of the central room are the same as the hallway up to this point; old, dark wood. Some lovely bone art adorns every wall, with the wall across the entrance covered every inch in it. Carvings, cleaned skulls, creative rearranging of skeletons, pictorial reliefs from bone. Everything from the macabre to the lovely, showing off the individuality of the many who contributed to it. Every time you come here, the scenery is vaguely different as new pieces are added and old rotated out. It's always a visual pleasure.

There are three rows of pews near to the opposite wall, while roughly three times as much unadorned floor lies between the entrance the and pews. A central walkways as wide as two people leads between the pews to a raised portion of ground in front of the decorated wall. The width of the raised portion of ground is enough for two people to pass eachother comfortably, slightly wider than the width of the space between the pews. There is a gradient in the room, slanting downward towards the decorated wall. In the center of the decorated wall is a complicated, chest level construction of bone. It's beautiful, isn't it? A constantly evolving masterpiece of animal bone, essentially an alter created of various manipulated parts of animal skeleton. Skulls top pillars of bone construction, like turrets of a castle. A large altered skull of unknown animal origin reaches the highest height in the middle, inside of it is a pool of thick red liquid.

Some hooded people are seated there in the pews, and some are kneeling on the cement floor behind the pews. Your friend takes a pew seat, you kneel behind him. You can easily see the altar and what goes on with it, even on your knees behind the pews, due to the slanting gradient of the room. One member, in a black robe identical to everyone else's, stands next to the altar. Everyone else is seated. At midnight, Steve signals someone behind the decorated wall using his walkie talkie, and the ritual begins. You smell incense that reminds you of old books; again, this is due to something taking place behind the decorated wall. The primary hooded figure standing next to the altar; let's call him the ritual leader. He lights a dozen candles around the room without making a sound. Everyone waits in perfect silence for about 10 more minutes, the faint rhythmic sound of drums is heard and then the ritual begins.

The hooded person in the closest, far left pew, gets up and quietly as they can, walks to the central altar facing the ritual leader. At this point, the optionally pull back their hood just enough for the ritual leader to note their face. They cannot see the leaders face themselves, they can only vaguely tell that he is wearing a mask, like everyone else. After returning their hood, or after declining to show their face to the ritual leader, the attendee carefully picks up a once of several dozen tablespoon sized bone, elliptical cups, positioned on the a flat surface of the alter to the left of the central liquid holding skull. They make their best effort to carefully scoop the red, viscous liquid from the center of the alter, without spilling any on themselves, the sides of the tiny cup, or anywhere else. They then pour the liquid over some part of the altar, and place the empty bone cup on the corresponding flat, bone crafted surface on the right of altar.

If that member had been paying enough attention to those before themselves, they would notice that they should fill the cup to the brim, start by pouring it over the exact top of one of the dozen skull turrets on the perimeter of the altar, then slowly move the cup towards the center skull while excruciatingly slowly dripping out the liquid in a line. No matter what they do, the alter becomes a complex, beautiful pattern of red and white, just as much because of those who perform the ritual wells as because of those that do or can not perform it perfectly. The silence, then the drums, the ritual, the sight and smell...it all leads to a beautiful meditative experience for all those involved. To many, this is enough of an experience and they cannot or choose not to take it further. Perhaps they never show their face and merely enjoy pouring the liquid over the altar, then gazing at a colorful, random creation of themselves and all those involved in the ritual. There is so much peace to it, and the awe one feels is the same that those that practice organized religion feel. It fills a certain void central to our humanity.

However, those that perform the ritual correctly in four consecutive visits, while choosing to show their face to the ritual leader...at the end of the ritual, after everyone in the pews has taken their turn (or have been politely escorted out by somehow mucking it up) the ritual leader taps those four time successful attendees from the past and present on the arm, one by one. He knows which to tap because he saw your face. Those tapped are invited to stay for part two. If your friend that brought you here has made it to this stage, then he will have instructed you head out and wait in your car, until they have finished the second part of the ritual (should they choose to participate that day). So, the initial ritual is complete, the drum sounds have stopped, and you left with everyone else, one by one. A member at the door (one who seems to materialize there as needed, to act out a lot of functions) enforces a couple minute wait between each person leaving in order to maintain the privacy of the members, as they return their robe and return to their car. The doorman also hands every single departing attendee a small, prettily carved, pebble-like bone with the number “4” carved on it, always uniquely shaped for each individual day attended. You probably have quite a nice collection of these, as does everyone. Enjoy them; they were made as a labor of love by those of us who enjoy bone carving. These are also a subtle way for those to indicate that they have attended to others that have as well; simply by displaying these bone trinkets somewhere where people can see. You can even tell if you've attended the same event the same day if you have an object of the same shape. It's a bonding experience to know you were part of that feeling of awe with someone else.



You made it that far; your observation skills were sufficient, or at least you together with your friend deduced how to get to the second stage. You continued to attend, either because you enjoyed the feeling of awe or for the challenge of unraveling the mystery. What was the point of what seemed like a simple ritual, why was there so much work put into the elegant decoration, and what happens in part two to those that stay? So one day, after probably several months of attendance, you were invited to part two. After being tapped, you waited for everyone else not tapped to leave. Steve signals out of sight, and there is a grinding noise as those remaining are sealed in the ritual chamber. From this point on, there is a limited amount of oxygen available and speed is of the essence. The closing of the entrance opens up a passage on the right side of the decorated wall. A member comes out with several high powered torches. The amount he brings out corresponds to the number of attending members, in order to give the same approximate amount of time of oxygen for every ritual. That member then stands in front of the foremost right pew and waits. At this point, everyone is supposed to figure out that they need to get in line next to this member. As always, there are no instructions given, and this time, there is no polite way out.



Everyone files next to that first member that brought the torches. There will be at least 3 experienced members in addition to the torch bearer in the crowd at this point, so there will be at least 3 lined up members. Although it's possible that someone will be unable to figure out that they need to line up until the oxygen is gone (the leader is not going to proceed with the ritual until everyone is in place) it's not common. Who can predict how people will act, though? All kinds of things are known to happen in this stage in the game. The drums have quietly begun again, and everyone gets the feeling that something dangerous and important is happening. The incense and smell changes in order to encourage this mood, from the ancient smell of books to something more pungent and mysteriously chalky.



Once satisfied that everyone is in line, with the background sound of drums more loudly coming through the open passage and barely perceptibly increasing in speed to indicate urgency, the ritual leader takes from his pocket a couple dozen small, bone crafted knives, and places them to the left of the altar next to the small, used bone cups. He takes one of the knives, cuts his palm over the blood pool in the center of the center skull of the altar, lets drip his own blood into the pool, passes a piece of gauze into that hand with his other, then places the knife on then right of the altar next to the used cups.

When generally happens at this point (and keep in mind that there are many variations that occur, as some members do not know exactly what they're doing) is that the three experienced members (or intentional plants if necessary) take their turn walking up to the altar again from left to right. The first one to come (assuming noone was standing in his place when he tried to take it) is the torch bearer. The ritual leader attempts to hand him a knife. He holds up his palms to indicate that he does not want to participate, then takes a seat in the pews. The next member walks up, and is similarly offered a knife. He pulls back his hood to again show his face, replaces it, takes the knife handled offered, then turns it around and offers the handle to the leader with a small bow. The leader takes the knife, grasps that wrist firmly, and swiftly makes a cut of the palm over the pool of liquid, lets some blood fall, then puts a piece of gauze into the hand. That member then takes a pew. If they had struggled or pulled away during the process, the leader would have only put up a minimal effort to hold that wrist; this process, your actions, it's all voluntary and consensual, as always...although for the sake of everyone present, you still could not leave the chamber until the ritual part two was complete.



The third member that comes up to the altar, accepts the knife, slashes their palm just as the leader did, and places the knife next to the other used ones, then takes a seat. From this point forward, everyone present needs to make one of those three choices and quickly. One of two conclusions occur, here. Either everyone was perfect and swift, and the ritual was completed. In which case, the grinding of the door mechanism is heard, and the entrance reopens (closing the entrance further into the chamber, behind the decorated wall). Fresh oxygen pours back into the room, and depending on how close everyone cut it, everyone feels great relief as they receive the better air. The are allowed to leave one by one, with the doorman handing each a pretty decorated bone pebble with the number “3” on it.

Should something go awry in this stage (and it only takes one person to mess it up, so it does happen fairly frequently) everyone in the room eventually passes out from the lack of oxygen/build up of CO2. Everyone except those members secretly wearing an oxygen mask; they carry the members out one by one to the house front door and lay them in the front yard. In their pockets, they are left a bone pebble with the number “4”. Sort of a “try again next time” if you will. By the time they awaken, the entrance is sealed and Steve is gone. Better luck next time.



Those that complete this fairly simple team building exercise demonstrate their observation skills, agility, intelligence, ability to stay calm and quiet and follow directions, ability to work together with others in a collaborative, if non-verbally communicative way. Even more importantly, they demonstrate their willingness to sacrifice to accomplish something (if unknown what that something is). This is demonstrated by wounding oneself but most importantly demonstrated during a failed session; those that completed it before that calmly stand and wait to pass out, fulling knowing that they weren't going to succeed this time...are brave in the face of what could be their demise, for all they have control over the situation. Being willing to surrender your consciousness, showing that you can pursue something you desire despite unknown and scary consequences.

Up to this point, everything has been merely a game. It gives those participating a sense of awe, mystery, belonging, danger and excitement. Those who come time and time again to the more dangerous part two are showing themselves desiring adventure in their life, as well as their ability to handle it. Beyond the numbers given out, there is no indication of the existence of a next step, or how one might possibly move to it. You, however, showed us what we were looking for. Which is why, after “winning” the ritual three times, you were handed a “2” pebble, alongside with the pieces of the puzzle needed to take things to the next level. This is when the game ended, and things got real. This is when you found out what a group of disciplined, intelligent, occult thrill-seekers are actually out to accomplish.

~Part 2 Submitted Shortly~

~All criticism welcomed, 100% super n00b here~  