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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 2167234" data-attributes="member: 13681">Oliver wanders in a bleak land of torn earth and wasted bodies. Low moans come from nearby and a bony hand reaches out toward Oliver, the rag-clad specter of a man, whose eyes are hollow and wanting. Oliver shrinks back and turns only to face another reaching wretch. Turning again he sees a dark tower of green stone standing at the center of a barren patch of land. Heavy clouds, low and gray, tear as they move slowly past the tall spire. A gauntleted hand clamps down on Oliver's shoulder, heat radiating from the touch."Look at the tower," grates a stern voice. Oliver can't move. He raises his eyes to the tower. It isn't stone at all, but copper. Tarnished. He finds that it is not so dire as it first seemed. It is strong and stands resolute in the face of all the stark land around. "There is still purpose. See that you find it." The gauntleted hand gives the old man a shove forward and the vision vanishes as he stumbles forward. A woman reaches as Oliver stumbles, her face more gaunt than one of the fair folk should be, her ragged mantle falls away and she wails as the old man vanishes from her grasp. She gathers her cloak around her, and glares at the tower before returning to idle misery.*************Oliver splutters, "Purpose... Yes. I must find..." His eyes snap open and he blinks up at Shavah and his face registers pain and realization. He puts a hand to his head and shifts to sit more comfortably against the tree. "Heironeus. A different healing than --" he breaks off as Fendric strides up, "Pelor." He swallows, bracing for the blaze of healing that sears his wounds shut. When Fendric has finished his prayers and moves on checking the others, Oliver is panting, exhausted. He looks up at Shavah and says quietly for her ears only, "Powerful stuff that, but Heironeus is less of a beating. Or perhaps it's just Fendric." He ponders that for a moment, then winces as he struggles upright answering Raven's question with a growl, "The Geezer is fine." He waves Nurthk off as the young man attempts to help Oliver to his feet."Seems the Glade is more defensive than I recall or we're not going to find a warm welcome. Does anyone know of the god Ran? He is called the Father Stag and I seem to recall he is the Guardian of the Glades... or something like that." He looks at Niccolo who has occupied himself poking at the pile of leaves and twigs that made the woodland stag.OOC: Spot: 20 (modified)</blockquote>

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