Anarenn: Rise of the ancient blood

ARghrmm.... the treant slowly grumbles and prepares to speak. No winter is always the same, young one. The feeling, the temperature, the spirit of the winter has always slight changes. At the same time, winter is always the same. However, I believe that this winter could be defined as a "normal" one. To sleep, perchance to dream, is what many living ones have to do during this season.

The great forest spirit slowly starts to walk west. His branches seem to avoid contact with other tree, while words in sylvan language come out in a deep, rumbling voice. However, there was one thing different....and as always it involved humans. I believe that there was one of those hunters who accidentaly got lost during an snowstorm...he probably didn't expect it. He found refuge in the stone ruins, 10 miles from here, and after some time he got away. And now there are other humans coming in the forest, searching for something.

The diminutive gray-brown dragon settles on Oak's branch, digging its tiny but sharp claws into the treant's bark for additional purchase as he begins to walk. The wymling wasn't concerned about hurting his arboreal companion; it doubted the towering treant could even feel the tiny pinpricks through its tough wooden hide. Once more, the tiny passenger gently pushes a telepathic response into its friend's mind. ((I didn't care for the winter. It was dark and cold. It made me sleepy. This season is much better so far, though I'm anxious for all the snow to melt away. What did you call it again?))

The curious dragon cocks its saurian head inquisitively at the mention of strangers in the forest and of mysterious stone ruins nearby. Its mottled hides flushes to a warm golden brown in response to the wyrmling's unconscious mood change. ((I watched a pair of human wizards and a heavily armed hunter stumbling through here this morning and was wondering from where they'd come; they speak differently than the villagers. The children spoke of a group of rich merchants and servants having arrived in the area earlier. I haven't seen the ruins yet. Are they human built? How old are they and what did they used to be?))

Very old, young one. Since I awakened, just a tiny plant, many solstices have passed in the sky. However, those ruins were here before me, and they were here before the treants that guarded the forest before me.

There could be a connection between the stangers you know, and the strangers I know. That, I fear, may mean that very soon this forest could see a lot of strangers, and that is not good. Not good at all. Too many strangers unbalance the balance, and it may well be that the spirits of nature grow restless. They better try to respect the forest, because the forest is a sacred to many.

You realize that it is indeed difficult to get an exact count of years from Oak. Both he and Tall have a strange concept of time: for them it can be "a lot" or not. You have never heard an exact count of hours, days, weeks or years from him.

He is heading towards to mountains, and indeed it seems that he doesn't care at all about your claws...if he even feels them.

The concept of time remains a somewhat elusive matter for the diminutive dragon itself. Having not lived through an entire year yet, the wyrmling had little conception of the extent of time since its arboreal companion may first have budded. It likewise remained rather naive as to the size and age of the world (which it imagined comprised little beyond this corner of the forest and the nearby village). The dragon imagined that there was likely more to discover, but had no true understanding of how much it hadn't yet seen or learned.

Olive green stripes begin to form and slowly shift across the pensive reptile's scales as it silently turns these weighty matters over in its mind. Finally settling into a mottled rust hue, the diminutive dragon offers Oak its thoughts. ((Perhaps I should go to the village and warn the humans of the Spirits' growing disquiet. They may not know that their incursions risk raising our ire...

What is there at the ruins that may be attracting them, do you think?))

They may be and they may not be. Human life is short, so they may have forgotten the times where there was an ancient father in theese lands. I myself wasn't awake when those time were, but I know those times anyway. Humans don't seem to possess memory, and they don't usually listen to a reason. I'll leave it you to gudge if it is the case to warn them, but keep in mind that your safety is most important than theirs...they mate pretty fast, after all.

As for the ruins, who knows? Ruins are ruins. Past is past, and we see no reason to disturb the past. But humans are full of strange paradoxes: they don't have memory, but then they want memory. Mu guess would be that they are just searching for something of value in those ruins, or maybe they are just curious. However, curiosity killed the squirrel, as Tall uses to say. I think that comes from a personal experience.

It seems that Oak isn't very interested in what humans do and what humans don't.

The young dragons listens to its arboreal friend, itself unaware that it would only live a fraction of a human's lifespan. Oblivious to its fate, the wyrmling directs a reassuring thought towards Oak's mind. ((I'll be careful with the humans. I'd be curious to see the ruins; whereabouts would I find them? And if you don't mind my asking, where are you off to on this fine day?))

The treant quckly explains where to find the ruins that interest you. It seems that they are west from here, deep into the forest that grows on the high hills, in a hidden valley. As points of "navigation" he uses elements of nature: particular trees, a little lake, a particular hill or rock formation. His indication are quite generic, but you get the idea of how to get there, but it seems that several hours will be required, at least for your first travel there.

as for what he is going to do...Well, I'll do what has to be done
He always replies like that. The first time you asked it for several days and got always the same answer, than you had to follow him to understand what he really does: most of all he travel along the forest, ensuring that everything is going fine. He seems to know every single tree, from the great giants to the little tiny plants. He ensures that no animal suffers, rescuing trapped ones. However he doesn't interfere in the hunting of predators: that is all part of the natural circle of life, after all.


OOC: sorry for the eventual typos, I'm in a hurry.

The diminutive dragon lightens to a speckled greenish-bronze and bobs its saurian head in an approximation of a nod; a gesture it had witnessed humans perform many times to signal understanding or acknowledgment. ((Then I'll leave you to it and go do what needs to be done elsewhere.)) Spreading its wings wide, the small wyrmling offers the wise old treant a sweeping bow of respect. ((Enjoy the springtime Oak.))

A few nimble leaps down the length of the treant's limb precedes a powerful downstroke of the diminutive dragon's wings. The wyrmling executes a quick series of wing-beats while arcing its long sinuous body to carry it through three quick horizontal circles around Oak's trunk before leveling out. Beating the thick air, the dragon corkscrews its way up through the overhanging tangle of branches towards the open sky above. Breaking through the leafless springtime canopy, the dragon reorients itself and begins making its way towards the forest's edge and the village of Eruin beyond.

The soaring dragon rides the winds to the forest's edge and then dives swiftly towards the ground. Leveling out just above the surface of the ground, the tiny wyrmling glides swiftly above the barren fields as long as it dares. When it approaches within a stone's throw of the community's outermost buildings, the dragon breaks its forward momentum by spreading its wings wide and stalling. Landing in a tuft of wild grass, the wily dragon's hide shifts to a striped straw and grass colored pattern for added protection.

From its hiding spot, the curious wyrmling raises its tiny head above the grasses like a periscope to scan the surrounding area for signs that its approach was spotted (Listen & Spot +7, taking 20).

OOC: Assuming it is unobserved, the wyrmling intends to scrabble stealthily around the periphery of the community while it tries to catch sight of the wizards, their servants and the location they're inhabiting while in the village. (Hide +23 (+25 in forests or overgrown areas), Move Silently +6, taking 10 on both if possible)

You get very close to the village, and then hide in the grass. Thanks to your exceptional skill in hiding and camouflage, you are absolutely sure that if no one spotted you coming, no one will be able to find you here...besides, humans are not very observant creatures. You have noticed that those living in the village never look around, like any animal does. You used to find it strange, but then it occurred to you that maybe it is due to the fact that there are no wild animals preying on village-dwellers.

The village in noisy and dirty, as always. The odours coming from it offend your senses: it is a mixed scent of filth and faeces, probably emanated by their animals....they keep them in their houses. There is faint nice scent, mixed here and there: you recognize it as the scent of fresh bread. Shiri's mother makes it everyday, so it is familiar to you. There are other scents carried by the spring breeze: the scent of many horses, mixed with the harsh scent of sweat, iron and leather....probably the soldiers are in the village right now. There are also some flowers, somewhere in the village.

The villagers scurry around, each of them busy in his own labours: there are people coming and going from the fields, many children playng around, and some artisans working in the open. Every adult seems to be busy, and no one is wandering around.

You hear many of them speaking about mostly irrelevant topics (although interesting), for example the coming weather, their hopes about the harvesting, or about the wondrous biscuits made by aunt Theira.

You listen to them for a while, then you get restless and start making wide circles around the village, hidden in the grass. With a little bit of patience, you manage to estabilish a safe route, and you can concentrate on the observation of the village. Sadly, it is built according to an erratic plan, and there is no way to get a closer look on it's inner side, without rising in the air.

Fortunately enough, however, after an hour mayb, you notice a dozen of armed men riding out of the village, and going east. The heavy scent of sweat and iron emanates from them like a cloud, and you understand that they are soldiers coming from the nearest city. At the same time, however, another movements catch your attention: there are three people coming out of the village: the young wizard you saw this morning, his armored bodyguard, and another one: a woman with short brown hair, a hard expression, wearing unexpensive and comfortable clothing. She is armed with a single knive on her belt, and follows the wizard in the same position held by her male and armored counterpart.

The wizard, named Cordel, as you recall, walks out of the village, followed by the extremely curious eyes of the paesants. He ignores them, concentration on something else: his eyes wander around in an absend-minded manner, and he seems to be expecting something, or thinking about a very important matter. He heads for the forest, but you don't think that he is actually going somewhere: he is just walking, and thinking around.

You see no sign of the nice woman who was with him this morning.

When it first sees the wizard and his companions heading out of the village, the hidden wyrm in the grass begins to quickly scrabble away. The dragon seeks to quickly reach a safe distance from the settlement so that it may take to the air once more, unseen. Once it has reached such a spot, the hidden wyrmling, leaps up and quickly beats the air to stay aloft. Streaking above the surface of the fallow fields, the dragon seeks to reach the forest's edge ahead of the three humans; all while keeping a safe distance from the trio.

Reaching the cover provided by the woodland's outermost arboreal sentinels, the wyrmling turns and begins weaving its way around the trunks of the trees as it follows a perpendicular course back towards the approaching group of humans. Through the trees it attempts to study their progress to determine whereabouts the humans intend to breach the forest's edge. Alighting in the bows of a tall oak, the wily dragon's hide shifts to its earlier gray-brown mottled texture as it weaves its serpentine body stealthily into the tree's thick bark (Hide +25, taking 10) as it lies in wait.

As the trio of humans nears the forest's edge, the camouflaged dragon tries to recall the deep languid tones of Oak's voice as well as his eloquent though verbose patterns of speech. As soon as the wizard draws near enough, the wily wyrmling reaches out with its mind and begins offering him wordless thoughts; attempting to convey a subtle feeling of presence upon the man's consciousness. When the trio has reached the forest's edge, the dragon offers the wizard a mental greeting in Sylvan: ((For the second time today have you sought entrance into our Woodland Realm. But you have not yet beseeched the Spirits for their blessing nor do you offer tribute for the privilege. Know that this is a sacred place held in demesne and that its Spirits grow restless from your casual incursions. Tell us wizard, who are you and what do you seek within our domain?))

OOC: If Cordel doesn't seem to understand Sylvan, the dragon will repeat its missive in Hethon. It's fun to play an NPC; they have more fun!