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The Scars Run Deep (Updated - 3/29/2004)
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<blockquote data-quote="Ruined" data-source="post: 1402732" data-attributes="member: 113"><p><u>14th of Chardot, yr. 150 A.V., continued </u></p><p></p><p>“So what will you do?” Tréan asked as she and Surielle walked through the woods north of Oakdale. </p><p></p><p>“It really depends upon what Solenus has to tell me. If my mother is dead, then I will know peace and go with you on your quest. If the path I follow leads elsewhere…” Surielle left it unfinished. She didn’t want to say she would abandon the quest that Gerad and Tréan had sworn to, but she knew that if pushed to choose, she would follow her heart. Bounty hunters may continue to follow her for her part in the flight from Quelsk, but they would find her harder to track than her friends. Once she returned to the safer woods of Darakeene, the ire of Calastia would mean little to her. </p><p></p><p>They moved into a clearing, following the path Snowmelt had forged ahead of them. Surielle had let her wolf roam free now that she knew what to expect in this edge of the Hornsaw. </p><p></p><p>As the pair reached the end of the clearing, something grabbed Surielle’s foot and pulled her up into the sky. She let out a cry as she was suspended upside down beneath a tree. Someone had left a snare, and it had caught her easily. She struggled to look around the clearing for assailants while trying to think of a way to break free. Below her, Tréan had her spear drawn, ready for battle. But the clearing was deathly quiet. After a few tense moments, Tréan began to laugh. It was infectious, and Surielle had to catch her breath to tell Tréan to help her down from the trap. </p><p></p><p>Once freed, Surielle helped Tréan to look around the clearing. She found spoor that marked a few dogs, most likely Thrain’s hounds. Underneath some brush, someone had stored three skins containing a sticky paste made for entanglement. It was harmless enough now, but it painted a scene of what could have been. Thrain alone was a tough adversary, but with snares and tanglefoot bags he and his hounds could have overpowered them all. The pair counted themselves lucky. </p><p></p><p>Solenus awaited them with cups of a strong tea. He was not alone. A woman with golden braided hair stepped forward and introduced herself as Caitlin, another druidess of Denev. </p><p></p><p>“The resemblance is remarkable…” she said, brushing aside strands of Surielle’s hair with a gentle hand. “You are the very image of Amara. I had thought Solenus to be exaggerating at first, but I should have known better.” </p><p></p><p>“How did you know her?” Surielle asked. Tréan remained silent by her side. </p><p></p><p>“She and I met in Zathiske, drawn together by common cause. Those were better days, when we were still young and lively, innocent of the horrors of the world. Of places like this,” she said, looking to the forest beyond where they stood. “Eventually we were called here to the Hornsaw.” </p><p></p><p>“There were seven of us in total, all druids drawn from various parts of Ghelspad and beyond. The calling… I cannot describe it. It is one thing to walk the land, knowing that Denev’s presence surrounds you. But this? It was a yearning to come here for an unknown purpose. Amara and I spoke little of it. We were called, and we came.” </p><p></p><p>“What happened to them?” Surielle asked. She did not wish to hear of her mother’s death, but she had to know the answers to her burning questions. </p><p></p><p>“First you should know of our purpose. Solenus told me you have heard the tale of the Broadreach Elves’ sacrifice.” They both nodded. “Yes. The ritual, Atarnoth Gran, means Renewal in elven. It was drawn up to fight the encroaching corruption of the forest. The elves were the only ones to use it, because they knew it would last many years and the shorter-lived races would not endure. They shifted themselves into great trees, using their roots to spread healing magic into the poisoned land. Nothing could harm the trees while they stood over the years.” </p><p></p><p>Surielle could see the horrors of that time etched in shadows on Solenus’ face. There was a knot forming in her stomach, pondering the fate of her birth mother. </p><p></p><p>“What was done with the original Atarnoth Gran was beneficial, but it was not enough to turn the tide for the forest. Their slow-working magicks stemmed the tide of poison from Mormo’s fall, but it could not stop it. We believed that a shorter, more powerful ritual might work where the original failed. Duly prepared, our group ventured into the forest. There are rumors of a single tree in the heart of the Hornsaw called the Great Sapling. It is believed to be the heart of the forest, and its roots connect with all life within. We intended to reach the Sapling, enact the ritual, and hope that it would work.” </p><p></p><p>“But you are here. What happened?” Tréan asked. Caitlin’s expression darkened at the question. </p><p></p><p>“There were seven of us, aye, yet the ritual only required three of us. More would be better and all would have willingly joined in, but we were realistic. The horrors inside there…” She paused, seeming to relive that day in her mind. “Some of the dangers we passed as only servants of Denev could, bending flora to our will and rendering poisons inert. Others were more of a physical conflict. A monstrous beast, one of several, grabbed me and broke my form. Limbs were crushed, my back broken. I should have died.” </p><p></p><p>“We had agreed that our most potent healing magicks should be conserved for the good of the whole. I was first to fall. I would have gladly perished to see the job done. Someone in the group healed me enough so that I could care for myself. I begged them go on, as more enemies approached. No one wished this, but it was for the good of the forest.” </p><p></p><p>“I’ll wager that more perished as they moved further into the Hornsaw. No others emerged here. I’ve sensed a change in the forest over the years, so I believe they were successful.” </p><p></p><p>Surielle was amazed. Her mother had sacrificed her life for the will of Denev to heal the land. Would she have had the courage to take such a quest? </p><p></p><p>“You said your version of the ritual was shorter. The one Solenus was involved in was for nearly a hundred years.” </p><p></p><p>“It was a tricky business, altering the ritual in such a way. We originally estimated thirty years. The more scholarly ones among us would know more, but I was the one left behind.” </p><p></p><p>There was an uneasy silence in the grove. Surielle looked about, her gaze moving from Caitlin to Solenus to Tréan. </p><p></p><p>“If I were to venture in after Amara, there is nothing I could do to free her?” </p><p></p><p>“Doubtful. The Atarnoth Gran was designed to resist the interference of the greatest titanic servants,” Caitlin said. </p><p></p><p>“And you would surely perish in the attempt,” Solenus added. Tréan laid a comforting hand against Surielle’s back. </p><p></p><p>“We will do whatever is necessary for you. You know that.” </p><p></p><p>“There is nothing I can do now,” Surielle stated. “We will do what is needed for the Globe, and then I will return to save her.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ruined, post: 1402732, member: 113"] [u]14th of Chardot, yr. 150 A.V., continued [/u] “So what will you do?” Tréan asked as she and Surielle walked through the woods north of Oakdale. “It really depends upon what Solenus has to tell me. If my mother is dead, then I will know peace and go with you on your quest. If the path I follow leads elsewhere…” Surielle left it unfinished. She didn’t want to say she would abandon the quest that Gerad and Tréan had sworn to, but she knew that if pushed to choose, she would follow her heart. Bounty hunters may continue to follow her for her part in the flight from Quelsk, but they would find her harder to track than her friends. Once she returned to the safer woods of Darakeene, the ire of Calastia would mean little to her. They moved into a clearing, following the path Snowmelt had forged ahead of them. Surielle had let her wolf roam free now that she knew what to expect in this edge of the Hornsaw. As the pair reached the end of the clearing, something grabbed Surielle’s foot and pulled her up into the sky. She let out a cry as she was suspended upside down beneath a tree. Someone had left a snare, and it had caught her easily. She struggled to look around the clearing for assailants while trying to think of a way to break free. Below her, Tréan had her spear drawn, ready for battle. But the clearing was deathly quiet. After a few tense moments, Tréan began to laugh. It was infectious, and Surielle had to catch her breath to tell Tréan to help her down from the trap. Once freed, Surielle helped Tréan to look around the clearing. She found spoor that marked a few dogs, most likely Thrain’s hounds. Underneath some brush, someone had stored three skins containing a sticky paste made for entanglement. It was harmless enough now, but it painted a scene of what could have been. Thrain alone was a tough adversary, but with snares and tanglefoot bags he and his hounds could have overpowered them all. The pair counted themselves lucky. Solenus awaited them with cups of a strong tea. He was not alone. A woman with golden braided hair stepped forward and introduced herself as Caitlin, another druidess of Denev. “The resemblance is remarkable…” she said, brushing aside strands of Surielle’s hair with a gentle hand. “You are the very image of Amara. I had thought Solenus to be exaggerating at first, but I should have known better.” “How did you know her?” Surielle asked. Tréan remained silent by her side. “She and I met in Zathiske, drawn together by common cause. Those were better days, when we were still young and lively, innocent of the horrors of the world. Of places like this,” she said, looking to the forest beyond where they stood. “Eventually we were called here to the Hornsaw.” “There were seven of us in total, all druids drawn from various parts of Ghelspad and beyond. The calling… I cannot describe it. It is one thing to walk the land, knowing that Denev’s presence surrounds you. But this? It was a yearning to come here for an unknown purpose. Amara and I spoke little of it. We were called, and we came.” “What happened to them?” Surielle asked. She did not wish to hear of her mother’s death, but she had to know the answers to her burning questions. “First you should know of our purpose. Solenus told me you have heard the tale of the Broadreach Elves’ sacrifice.” They both nodded. “Yes. The ritual, Atarnoth Gran, means Renewal in elven. It was drawn up to fight the encroaching corruption of the forest. The elves were the only ones to use it, because they knew it would last many years and the shorter-lived races would not endure. They shifted themselves into great trees, using their roots to spread healing magic into the poisoned land. Nothing could harm the trees while they stood over the years.” Surielle could see the horrors of that time etched in shadows on Solenus’ face. There was a knot forming in her stomach, pondering the fate of her birth mother. “What was done with the original Atarnoth Gran was beneficial, but it was not enough to turn the tide for the forest. Their slow-working magicks stemmed the tide of poison from Mormo’s fall, but it could not stop it. We believed that a shorter, more powerful ritual might work where the original failed. Duly prepared, our group ventured into the forest. There are rumors of a single tree in the heart of the Hornsaw called the Great Sapling. It is believed to be the heart of the forest, and its roots connect with all life within. We intended to reach the Sapling, enact the ritual, and hope that it would work.” “But you are here. What happened?” Tréan asked. Caitlin’s expression darkened at the question. “There were seven of us, aye, yet the ritual only required three of us. More would be better and all would have willingly joined in, but we were realistic. The horrors inside there…” She paused, seeming to relive that day in her mind. “Some of the dangers we passed as only servants of Denev could, bending flora to our will and rendering poisons inert. Others were more of a physical conflict. A monstrous beast, one of several, grabbed me and broke my form. Limbs were crushed, my back broken. I should have died.” “We had agreed that our most potent healing magicks should be conserved for the good of the whole. I was first to fall. I would have gladly perished to see the job done. Someone in the group healed me enough so that I could care for myself. I begged them go on, as more enemies approached. No one wished this, but it was for the good of the forest.” “I’ll wager that more perished as they moved further into the Hornsaw. No others emerged here. I’ve sensed a change in the forest over the years, so I believe they were successful.” Surielle was amazed. Her mother had sacrificed her life for the will of Denev to heal the land. Would she have had the courage to take such a quest? “You said your version of the ritual was shorter. The one Solenus was involved in was for nearly a hundred years.” “It was a tricky business, altering the ritual in such a way. We originally estimated thirty years. The more scholarly ones among us would know more, but I was the one left behind.” There was an uneasy silence in the grove. Surielle looked about, her gaze moving from Caitlin to Solenus to Tréan. “If I were to venture in after Amara, there is nothing I could do to free her?” “Doubtful. The Atarnoth Gran was designed to resist the interference of the greatest titanic servants,” Caitlin said. “And you would surely perish in the attempt,” Solenus added. Tréan laid a comforting hand against Surielle’s back. “We will do whatever is necessary for you. You know that.” “There is nothing I can do now,” Surielle stated. “We will do what is needed for the Globe, and then I will return to save her.” [/QUOTE]
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