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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5975666" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p>Celerion stood to the right of the great throne of Daenfrii, slightly in front. He stood watching and listening as the members of the Lordmage's council debated amongst themselves at Rhea's "preposterous" suggestion that the Ihs Rephal be returned to the fledgling magess of this band of "heroes" called the Stormriders.</p><p></p><p>The Lordmage Arganor similarly sat upon the throne and listened with little interest. Such debates were to be expected and allowed...for a time. His eyes looked over to the Staff of Wyr, standing upright of its own accord, the golden wings of the dragon carving atop it tightly closed, covering the great diamond-shaped sapphire within its clutches.</p><p></p><p>"My lord, I must protest and renew the desire of Manat's Witch-Priests to have the Repahlentim orb moved to our temple in Zarcha for safe keeping." said a young blue robed cleric of the goddess of magic from behind his blue five-pounted star tattoo/dyed mask.</p><p></p><p>The witch-priest's name was Endrom. He was an enthusiastic and capable advocate for the temple's desires though, Arganor (and several others in the Lormdage's court) felt simply liked to hear his own voice far too much.</p><p></p><p>"My consultations with high-priestess Corandralla are private and most thorough. You do your lady's house honor with your steadfast interest to her wishes. But she is in complete agreement that the Ihs Repahl is in safe keeping in Daenfrii's hands and has absolute confidence in our judgement. Rest assured all possible precautions have been taken." the Lordmage finally retorted. The Lordmage's steady tone brought an abrupt end to all other debate and all eyes turned to the high seat of the throne room.</p><p></p><p>"Zhiranth, what says the Tower of Wyr?" Arganor asked of another older looking man in plain brown robes tied with a simple length of rope. The man had a chest length golden brown beard which he stroked thoughtfully as he'd listened to all of the earlier uproar.</p><p></p><p>"Alas my lord, on this matter, the Halls of Wyr are silent. We await confirmation of the Stormriders' supposition that the necromancer is indeed the age old wyrm Dessarthal. Once they know this, one way or the other, they may have more to offer." the man said clearly.</p><p></p><p>"Matron Uma, do Gilea's Sacred Daughters have anything to weight this request?" Arganor posed to the elderly, white haired woman sitting calmly at one of the long council tables. She looked to the Lordmage, her face a wizened visage of tranquility and peace, as she stood from her seat. Her flowing white robes trimmed in the twining thorny vines and occasional bright red and white roses of her goddess and station cascaded off of a rounded matronly form.</p><p></p><p>"The Merciful Mother's care and protection are, as always, unending for our house and cause, my lord." Uma began. "However, beyond those assurances, I can offer no counsel. The concerns of the White Rose for our health and safety, heretofore, have not extended into the comings and goings of such arcane artifacts. I shall defer to the will of the council on this matter and, as always, trust in your judgement." she concluded and calmly returned to her seat.</p><p></p><p>Arganor nodded politely to the old high-priestess of the healer goddess.</p><p></p><p>A large gloved fist slammed into the table across the hall from the table where collected priests and priestesses sat. The large mailed form of the Steel Dragon, Malak, rose from his seat as the younger prince spoke with some force.</p><p></p><p>"Father, allow me to assemble a team to raze this mountain of Nor Gorthok to the ground. Surely, the Steel Dragons would prove more than a match for the motley forces of the evil one's stronghold. We could bring this threat of a returning Shaarzak, possibly the entire war, to an immediate end!" Malak said impassioned.</p><p></p><p>Arganor raised his hand calmly. "My son, the Stormriders' account of the forces arrayed at Nor Gorthok was far from complete. We have no way of knowing what is actually arrayed there..." the Lordmage began.</p><p></p><p>"But father..." Malak attempted to interject.</p><p></p><p>"...<em><strong>and</strong></em> I will not put my sons at further peril, regardless of their good intentions. Our first priority is, and shall remain, aiding the defense of our allies in Miralostae. Following the unthinkable fall of Ayla Nirai, then Daenfrii's own defense must take priority." Arganor continued.</p><p></p><p>"I am certain we could..." Malak again tried to argue his point. The warrior-prince had little to no interest in this council of mages and priests. His place was on the front lines, matching steel and ending, in no uncertain terms, the evil that assaulted their lands and allies.</p><p></p><p>"I am afraid, my son, on these points, our judgement is absolute." Arganor again cut off his son without the slightest hint of anger or reproach.</p><p></p><p>Malak sat. He knew his father's will was unmovable once he had decided a course of action.</p><p></p><p>"Does the Emerald Tear have any further insights or recommendations, Lady Rhea? What says the Hidden Halls?" Arganor said, turning his attention back to Rhea (who had remained standing throughout these exchanges, at her place beside Malak). </p><p></p><p>"I am afraid, my Lord Arganor, that I have not been in conference with my master. Our last communication revealed no more of the coming times as my own Sight." Rhea replied, somewhat quietly. It was embarrassing for her to admit her own shortcoming, but to admit that of the master of her order, the great seer Krellen, whose own clairvoyance and precognition far exceeded her own, was...troubling to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>"I do feel, however, the Stormriders to be a capable force and true ally to our cause. It is my recommendation that Magess Alaria's request be granted."</p><p></p><p>Arganor nodded his acknowledgement of the vote of confidence. He leaned slightly toward the aged elf chamberlain.</p><p></p><p>"Where is Car'Tyr's representative?" Arganor said, aside (though still heard by the assembled council), to Celerion.</p><p></p><p>"The Herald, Thillian, and his contingent left to return to the south mountains this morning, my lord. He was quite explicit that the Wind Wizard, as he so often does, defers and relies upon your wise judgement and that of the council."</p><p></p><p>"Just so." Arganor said in some annoyance. He did not require, of most of Daenfrii's visitors or ambassadors, a personal request to leave. Still, it was in bad form, thought the Lordmage, particularly of so close and longstanding a friend and ally as Car'Tyr.</p><p></p><p>However, the lordmage admitted to himself, the wizard's herald and representative was of the Shi'Cynallae and so did as he willed, as most of Car'Tyr's servants (as the wizard himself), with the blowing of the winds.</p><p></p><p>"How says the council, then? Does the Magess...Alaria, is it?" he looked to Celerion.</p><p></p><p>"Aye, my lord." the elderly elf nodded in agreement.</p><p></p><p>"Does the Magess Alaria warrant the return of the Ihs Repahl to aid in her coming trials?" Arganor posed.</p><p></p><p>The vote was close, with Rhea, the Steel Dragon protectress Lela Eth Mitar, prince Malak, and Matron Uma voting "Aye."</p><p></p><p>Witch-priest Endrom, high-priest Denlap of the temple of Astar, and the elvin representative from Miralostae (Silran's man who sat in on the council when the Evandrial prince was absent...whose name Arganor could never recall) voting "Nay."</p><p></p><p>Celerion, Zhiranth and two of the Lordmage's other captains-at-arms abstained. The warriors had little interest or understanding of these sorts of "wizard's affairs" and often declined to vote on such matters. The Lord Chamberlain and ambassador of Wyr simply being wise enough to not speak, endorse or decline, the possible ways the request might aid or threaten their cause.</p><p></p><p>The future, as for the others of wisdom and foresight, offering no direction.</p><p></p><p>Arganor thought on the matter for a time. The members of the council were accustomed to this long pensive moment after any vote.</p><p></p><p>"Very well. Celerion, see it done." Arganor finally said.</p><p></p><p>"As you will it, my lord." Celerion said with a limited bow, tightly gripping his twisted staff and with a ceremonial, "By your leave, my lord." the violet robed wizard turned and left the great hall.</p><p></p><p>None on the council dared to raise their voice in objection. </p><p></p><p>"Now, Captain Bergus, what news of the north?" Arganor said calmly, moving the council on to their next order of business.</p><p></p><p>****</p><p></p><p>Fen stood in the calm glade. The dusting of snow from the previous night was melting slowly around him in the nearing midday sun. The clean crisp air was invigorating for the half-elf. He was certain, he was in the right place for his meeting...according to the raven that had brought word of his imminent report to the Ancient Holy Order of Mistwood. </p><p></p><p>He was fairly surprised when the ferret, Buttercream, came shuffling through a nearby thicket. </p><p></p><p>Fen immediately invoked the power to speak with animals to converse with the giant ferret.</p><p> </p><p>She had more than a few unkind words about being left in the Feldmere by the company. But, still, as happy to see the druid well and hear of the Hilltender's safety and the companion's escape from the lizardmen's den. The news of the elf and satyr's demise seemed to effect her little. All part of the balance and the cycle...the ways of nature by which the ferret experienced the world.</p><p></p><p>"I lost half of my brothers and sisters in our first winter." Buttercream revealed as way of explanation. "It is the Way. There is no fighting it. You keep going for the spring to come."</p><p></p><p>Fen was taken aback by the hidden wisdom in such a statement and wondered how it was that Haelan had been gifted with speech with the ferret instead of himself.</p><p></p><p>She had been..."drawn", she said, to return to the environs of Bridgetower by some unknown force. But, was not terribly concerned with it. She did complain, more than once, about the cold and supposed that the company would be staying in Bridgetower for the winter.</p><p></p><p>"I think not, Buttercream, but we shall see." Fen said calmly.</p><p></p><p>"If you don't mind, I shall rest now. If you need me, I will be in this thicket here." the ferret shivered a bit. "And greencloak, please do not leave me again without some notice." she added over her shoulder as she disappeared under a holy bush.</p><p></p><p>"Of course, Buttercream. My...all of our apologies." the druid said to the ferret's rump. He received no reply.</p><p></p><p>a rustling from a different edge of the glade caught his attention and a lone red deer buck came into view. It stood, some distance away and stared at the druid.</p><p></p><p>The half-elf rose and took up his spear in the ceremonial position of greeting. He bowed his deep-hooded head at the deer.</p><p></p><p>The animal did the same before becoming ensconced in a pale green aura. When the light subsided, another druid in robes and hooded cloak, more grey almost white than green, stood before the half-elf. He appeared middle-aged, bearded with a chestnut beard beginning to be flecked with the greys of age.</p><p></p><p><<em>translated from the druidic tongue</em>>"<em>Brother Fen?</em>" the man said, sounding unsure.</p><p></p><p><em>"I am, Fen...of Moonglade. And you?"</em> Fen answered. He had expected to see, as he usually did, Sister Sage. This member of the order he did not recognize.</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"I am Brother Badger...of the wood of Anveram</em> <em>in the Land of Sleeping Giants</em>." the man responded.</p><p></p><p>"<em>And yet you travel in the form of the buck.</em>" Fen smiled a reply. Then, again, shot his gaze to his feet, recalling his past transgressions of protocol with Sage, who he was, at least, familiar with.</p><p></p><p>The man chuckled. "<em>Indeed. But the buck travels on much fleeter feet than the badger."</em> the man said replied in explanation. "<em>Please, Brother, raise your eyes. We are not of such a circle as to require those archaic observances. Brothers all in the Cycle and the Balance, are we not?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>Fen liked this guy already.</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"Your time is well passed for a report to the Lord of Ash...oh yeah, and whose greetings I am tasked with relaying.</em>" Brother Badger added, apparently unaccustomed to such missions and the protocols of the druids' greetings.</p><p></p><p>Fen began his recitation of the course of the party's actions since his last meeting with Sister Sage. It was lengthy and full of detail. The druids of the Ancient Order were trained for many years in accurate observation, and "perfect" perception. Their observations were required to be unaltered by emotion or personal desire. The retaining and, and most importantly, recitation of their memories was one of the druids' most sacred duties...and Fen had learned these skills particularly well. Even in the language of druids, such exacting accuracy required some time. The day was well into afternoon by the time the younger druid finished his tale.</p><p></p><p>"Distressing tidings to be sure. But well remembered. I do offer my condolences for the loss of your kiili, Fen of Moonglade." Brother Badger finally replied, having thoroughly absorbed and stored all of Fen's information.</p><p> </p><p>Fen asked if the elder druid could identify the magical acorns that he'd been gifted by the druid Ornfael. Badger took a long time to mull them over and finally admitted he could not discern a specific purpose, other than they were highly enchanted.</p><p></p><p>"<em>I would say to you, Brother Fen, that if the ancient one told you to use them for that specific purpose, then that is what you should do.</em>..<em>the Balance shall take care of the rest.</em>" was all of the guidance Badger could offer.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Is my mission changed, brother? I do hope to continue on with my companions.</em>" Fen finally asked. </p><p></p><p>Brother Badger looked at him with a questioning shrug. "<em>I was told you were Willow. As such, I have no particular direction to point you. At least, I was given no specific instruction thereof. Do you know where your companions are?</em>"</p><p></p><p>Fen had to admit, he'd left them two days ago and could not be sure.</p><p></p><p>"Ok then...let's see here..." the older druid said in Common as he wandered over to one of the large oak trees that lined the glade. He stroked his beard and tapped upon the gnarled bark. "Hmmm...yes, this will do..."</p><p></p><p>Fen wandered over beside him. What was he doing?</p><p></p><p>Brother Badger made a few syllables in the sacred tongue and traced a circle with his finger about a knot in the trunk. The edges of the knot widened on their own and an image came into form within.</p><p></p><p>To Fen's complete surprise, it was Alaria and Braddok and the others, they were in some lovely tree filled place. The whole image had a haze of pale green over it.</p><p></p><p>"Oh! They're in Evandrial! Lucky devils. BURSTING with the Balance. Lovely place. Have you ever been?" Badger asked.</p><p></p><p>Fen shook his head that he had not.</p><p></p><p>"You're in for quite a treat, my boy. Be wary however...the powers of the elves hold sway there and Holy Mistwood's magics are...unpredictable." the man chuckled again at some unknown remembrance. "Yes...powerful...but unpredictable. Use care."</p><p></p><p>Fen nodded his understanding and conveyed his thanks. "I should be going then, Miralostae is a large place and I have several days to get there."</p><p></p><p>"Nonsense!" Brother Badger said in disagreement. He again intoned some words of the sacred tongue with which Fen was unfamiliar.</p><p></p><p>Fen could not believe his eyes as the knot in the tree opened to a size he could step through.</p><p></p><p>"There is your way, Brother of Willow." Badger said.</p><p></p><p>Fen called Buttercream. Badger was a bit surprised to see the giant ferret come out of the thicket of holy bushes.</p><p></p><p>"Are you serious?" the ferret said.</p><p></p><p>"Indeed, this is where the Hilltender is." Fen replied.</p><p></p><p>"Ok then." the ferret said, nonplussed and hopped up into the tree-door.</p><p></p><p>"My thanks, Brother Badger. I will not forget this kindness." Fen said as he too stepped through the tree.</p><p></p><p>"Not at all, Brother Fen. It's the least I can do." Badger replied. If the Fen heard his response, he could not say. But once the tree-door had closed and shrank back to nothing more than the knot in the side of the oak tree it had originally been, the elder druid chuckled again.</p><p></p><p>"You might not thank me so much once you've arrived, druid." Badger said to himself.</p><p></p><p>A column of acrid yellow smoke came into being around the older druid. When the column of smoke had subsided, the succubus Athrizz strutted off, to the edge of the glade. She disappeared from this awful world of "natural beauty" with a high pitched cackle.</p><p> </p><p>Moments after the demoness' exit a red deer buck wandered into the empty glade. </p><p></p><p>The deer waited, grazed, and waited some more. As the evening sun was dipping into the west, the buck turned and left.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 5975666, member: 92511"] Celerion stood to the right of the great throne of Daenfrii, slightly in front. He stood watching and listening as the members of the Lordmage's council debated amongst themselves at Rhea's "preposterous" suggestion that the Ihs Rephal be returned to the fledgling magess of this band of "heroes" called the Stormriders. The Lordmage Arganor similarly sat upon the throne and listened with little interest. Such debates were to be expected and allowed...for a time. His eyes looked over to the Staff of Wyr, standing upright of its own accord, the golden wings of the dragon carving atop it tightly closed, covering the great diamond-shaped sapphire within its clutches. "My lord, I must protest and renew the desire of Manat's Witch-Priests to have the Repahlentim orb moved to our temple in Zarcha for safe keeping." said a young blue robed cleric of the goddess of magic from behind his blue five-pounted star tattoo/dyed mask. The witch-priest's name was Endrom. He was an enthusiastic and capable advocate for the temple's desires though, Arganor (and several others in the Lormdage's court) felt simply liked to hear his own voice far too much. "My consultations with high-priestess Corandralla are private and most thorough. You do your lady's house honor with your steadfast interest to her wishes. But she is in complete agreement that the Ihs Repahl is in safe keeping in Daenfrii's hands and has absolute confidence in our judgement. Rest assured all possible precautions have been taken." the Lordmage finally retorted. The Lordmage's steady tone brought an abrupt end to all other debate and all eyes turned to the high seat of the throne room. "Zhiranth, what says the Tower of Wyr?" Arganor asked of another older looking man in plain brown robes tied with a simple length of rope. The man had a chest length golden brown beard which he stroked thoughtfully as he'd listened to all of the earlier uproar. "Alas my lord, on this matter, the Halls of Wyr are silent. We await confirmation of the Stormriders' supposition that the necromancer is indeed the age old wyrm Dessarthal. Once they know this, one way or the other, they may have more to offer." the man said clearly. "Matron Uma, do Gilea's Sacred Daughters have anything to weight this request?" Arganor posed to the elderly, white haired woman sitting calmly at one of the long council tables. She looked to the Lordmage, her face a wizened visage of tranquility and peace, as she stood from her seat. Her flowing white robes trimmed in the twining thorny vines and occasional bright red and white roses of her goddess and station cascaded off of a rounded matronly form. "The Merciful Mother's care and protection are, as always, unending for our house and cause, my lord." Uma began. "However, beyond those assurances, I can offer no counsel. The concerns of the White Rose for our health and safety, heretofore, have not extended into the comings and goings of such arcane artifacts. I shall defer to the will of the council on this matter and, as always, trust in your judgement." she concluded and calmly returned to her seat. Arganor nodded politely to the old high-priestess of the healer goddess. A large gloved fist slammed into the table across the hall from the table where collected priests and priestesses sat. The large mailed form of the Steel Dragon, Malak, rose from his seat as the younger prince spoke with some force. "Father, allow me to assemble a team to raze this mountain of Nor Gorthok to the ground. Surely, the Steel Dragons would prove more than a match for the motley forces of the evil one's stronghold. We could bring this threat of a returning Shaarzak, possibly the entire war, to an immediate end!" Malak said impassioned. Arganor raised his hand calmly. "My son, the Stormriders' account of the forces arrayed at Nor Gorthok was far from complete. We have no way of knowing what is actually arrayed there..." the Lordmage began. "But father..." Malak attempted to interject. "...[I][B]and[/B][/I] I will not put my sons at further peril, regardless of their good intentions. Our first priority is, and shall remain, aiding the defense of our allies in Miralostae. Following the unthinkable fall of Ayla Nirai, then Daenfrii's own defense must take priority." Arganor continued. "I am certain we could..." Malak again tried to argue his point. The warrior-prince had little to no interest in this council of mages and priests. His place was on the front lines, matching steel and ending, in no uncertain terms, the evil that assaulted their lands and allies. "I am afraid, my son, on these points, our judgement is absolute." Arganor again cut off his son without the slightest hint of anger or reproach. Malak sat. He knew his father's will was unmovable once he had decided a course of action. "Does the Emerald Tear have any further insights or recommendations, Lady Rhea? What says the Hidden Halls?" Arganor said, turning his attention back to Rhea (who had remained standing throughout these exchanges, at her place beside Malak). "I am afraid, my Lord Arganor, that I have not been in conference with my master. Our last communication revealed no more of the coming times as my own Sight." Rhea replied, somewhat quietly. It was embarrassing for her to admit her own shortcoming, but to admit that of the master of her order, the great seer Krellen, whose own clairvoyance and precognition far exceeded her own, was...troubling to say the least. "I do feel, however, the Stormriders to be a capable force and true ally to our cause. It is my recommendation that Magess Alaria's request be granted." Arganor nodded his acknowledgement of the vote of confidence. He leaned slightly toward the aged elf chamberlain. "Where is Car'Tyr's representative?" Arganor said, aside (though still heard by the assembled council), to Celerion. "The Herald, Thillian, and his contingent left to return to the south mountains this morning, my lord. He was quite explicit that the Wind Wizard, as he so often does, defers and relies upon your wise judgement and that of the council." "Just so." Arganor said in some annoyance. He did not require, of most of Daenfrii's visitors or ambassadors, a personal request to leave. Still, it was in bad form, thought the Lordmage, particularly of so close and longstanding a friend and ally as Car'Tyr. However, the lordmage admitted to himself, the wizard's herald and representative was of the Shi'Cynallae and so did as he willed, as most of Car'Tyr's servants (as the wizard himself), with the blowing of the winds. "How says the council, then? Does the Magess...Alaria, is it?" he looked to Celerion. "Aye, my lord." the elderly elf nodded in agreement. "Does the Magess Alaria warrant the return of the Ihs Repahl to aid in her coming trials?" Arganor posed. The vote was close, with Rhea, the Steel Dragon protectress Lela Eth Mitar, prince Malak, and Matron Uma voting "Aye." Witch-priest Endrom, high-priest Denlap of the temple of Astar, and the elvin representative from Miralostae (Silran's man who sat in on the council when the Evandrial prince was absent...whose name Arganor could never recall) voting "Nay." Celerion, Zhiranth and two of the Lordmage's other captains-at-arms abstained. The warriors had little interest or understanding of these sorts of "wizard's affairs" and often declined to vote on such matters. The Lord Chamberlain and ambassador of Wyr simply being wise enough to not speak, endorse or decline, the possible ways the request might aid or threaten their cause. The future, as for the others of wisdom and foresight, offering no direction. Arganor thought on the matter for a time. The members of the council were accustomed to this long pensive moment after any vote. "Very well. Celerion, see it done." Arganor finally said. "As you will it, my lord." Celerion said with a limited bow, tightly gripping his twisted staff and with a ceremonial, "By your leave, my lord." the violet robed wizard turned and left the great hall. None on the council dared to raise their voice in objection. "Now, Captain Bergus, what news of the north?" Arganor said calmly, moving the council on to their next order of business. **** Fen stood in the calm glade. The dusting of snow from the previous night was melting slowly around him in the nearing midday sun. The clean crisp air was invigorating for the half-elf. He was certain, he was in the right place for his meeting...according to the raven that had brought word of his imminent report to the Ancient Holy Order of Mistwood. He was fairly surprised when the ferret, Buttercream, came shuffling through a nearby thicket. Fen immediately invoked the power to speak with animals to converse with the giant ferret. She had more than a few unkind words about being left in the Feldmere by the company. But, still, as happy to see the druid well and hear of the Hilltender's safety and the companion's escape from the lizardmen's den. The news of the elf and satyr's demise seemed to effect her little. All part of the balance and the cycle...the ways of nature by which the ferret experienced the world. "I lost half of my brothers and sisters in our first winter." Buttercream revealed as way of explanation. "It is the Way. There is no fighting it. You keep going for the spring to come." Fen was taken aback by the hidden wisdom in such a statement and wondered how it was that Haelan had been gifted with speech with the ferret instead of himself. She had been..."drawn", she said, to return to the environs of Bridgetower by some unknown force. But, was not terribly concerned with it. She did complain, more than once, about the cold and supposed that the company would be staying in Bridgetower for the winter. "I think not, Buttercream, but we shall see." Fen said calmly. "If you don't mind, I shall rest now. If you need me, I will be in this thicket here." the ferret shivered a bit. "And greencloak, please do not leave me again without some notice." she added over her shoulder as she disappeared under a holy bush. "Of course, Buttercream. My...all of our apologies." the druid said to the ferret's rump. He received no reply. a rustling from a different edge of the glade caught his attention and a lone red deer buck came into view. It stood, some distance away and stared at the druid. The half-elf rose and took up his spear in the ceremonial position of greeting. He bowed his deep-hooded head at the deer. The animal did the same before becoming ensconced in a pale green aura. When the light subsided, another druid in robes and hooded cloak, more grey almost white than green, stood before the half-elf. He appeared middle-aged, bearded with a chestnut beard beginning to be flecked with the greys of age. <[I]translated from the druidic tongue[/I]>"[I]Brother Fen?[/I]" the man said, sounding unsure. [I]"I am, Fen...of Moonglade. And you?"[/I] Fen answered. He had expected to see, as he usually did, Sister Sage. This member of the order he did not recognize. [I] "I am Brother Badger...of the wood of Anveram[/I] [I]in the Land of Sleeping Giants[/I]." the man responded. "[I]And yet you travel in the form of the buck.[/I]" Fen smiled a reply. Then, again, shot his gaze to his feet, recalling his past transgressions of protocol with Sage, who he was, at least, familiar with. The man chuckled. "[I]Indeed. But the buck travels on much fleeter feet than the badger."[/I] the man said replied in explanation. "[I]Please, Brother, raise your eyes. We are not of such a circle as to require those archaic observances. Brothers all in the Cycle and the Balance, are we not? [/I] Fen liked this guy already. [I] "Your time is well passed for a report to the Lord of Ash...oh yeah, and whose greetings I am tasked with relaying.[/I]" Brother Badger added, apparently unaccustomed to such missions and the protocols of the druids' greetings. Fen began his recitation of the course of the party's actions since his last meeting with Sister Sage. It was lengthy and full of detail. The druids of the Ancient Order were trained for many years in accurate observation, and "perfect" perception. Their observations were required to be unaltered by emotion or personal desire. The retaining and, and most importantly, recitation of their memories was one of the druids' most sacred duties...and Fen had learned these skills particularly well. Even in the language of druids, such exacting accuracy required some time. The day was well into afternoon by the time the younger druid finished his tale. "Distressing tidings to be sure. But well remembered. I do offer my condolences for the loss of your kiili, Fen of Moonglade." Brother Badger finally replied, having thoroughly absorbed and stored all of Fen's information. Fen asked if the elder druid could identify the magical acorns that he'd been gifted by the druid Ornfael. Badger took a long time to mull them over and finally admitted he could not discern a specific purpose, other than they were highly enchanted. "[I]I would say to you, Brother Fen, that if the ancient one told you to use them for that specific purpose, then that is what you should do.[/I]..[I]the Balance shall take care of the rest.[/I]" was all of the guidance Badger could offer. "[I]Is my mission changed, brother? I do hope to continue on with my companions.[/I]" Fen finally asked. Brother Badger looked at him with a questioning shrug. "[I]I was told you were Willow. As such, I have no particular direction to point you. At least, I was given no specific instruction thereof. Do you know where your companions are?[/I]" Fen had to admit, he'd left them two days ago and could not be sure. "Ok then...let's see here..." the older druid said in Common as he wandered over to one of the large oak trees that lined the glade. He stroked his beard and tapped upon the gnarled bark. "Hmmm...yes, this will do..." Fen wandered over beside him. What was he doing? Brother Badger made a few syllables in the sacred tongue and traced a circle with his finger about a knot in the trunk. The edges of the knot widened on their own and an image came into form within. To Fen's complete surprise, it was Alaria and Braddok and the others, they were in some lovely tree filled place. The whole image had a haze of pale green over it. "Oh! They're in Evandrial! Lucky devils. BURSTING with the Balance. Lovely place. Have you ever been?" Badger asked. Fen shook his head that he had not. "You're in for quite a treat, my boy. Be wary however...the powers of the elves hold sway there and Holy Mistwood's magics are...unpredictable." the man chuckled again at some unknown remembrance. "Yes...powerful...but unpredictable. Use care." Fen nodded his understanding and conveyed his thanks. "I should be going then, Miralostae is a large place and I have several days to get there." "Nonsense!" Brother Badger said in disagreement. He again intoned some words of the sacred tongue with which Fen was unfamiliar. Fen could not believe his eyes as the knot in the tree opened to a size he could step through. "There is your way, Brother of Willow." Badger said. Fen called Buttercream. Badger was a bit surprised to see the giant ferret come out of the thicket of holy bushes. "Are you serious?" the ferret said. "Indeed, this is where the Hilltender is." Fen replied. "Ok then." the ferret said, nonplussed and hopped up into the tree-door. "My thanks, Brother Badger. I will not forget this kindness." Fen said as he too stepped through the tree. "Not at all, Brother Fen. It's the least I can do." Badger replied. If the Fen heard his response, he could not say. But once the tree-door had closed and shrank back to nothing more than the knot in the side of the oak tree it had originally been, the elder druid chuckled again. "You might not thank me so much once you've arrived, druid." Badger said to himself. A column of acrid yellow smoke came into being around the older druid. When the column of smoke had subsided, the succubus Athrizz strutted off, to the edge of the glade. She disappeared from this awful world of "natural beauty" with a high pitched cackle. Moments after the demoness' exit a red deer buck wandered into the empty glade. The deer waited, grazed, and waited some more. As the evening sun was dipping into the west, the buck turned and left. [/QUOTE]
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