Dawnforge - The True Kings

[Widowmaker]

As the journey continues Sir Aravir's wounds slowly heal and he feals more comfortable, able to actually roll over in his sleep. The one thing he is suprised about is the more Darvekis speaks about himself and his hatred for the Dominion, he actually starts to relax and 'slightly' enjoy his company.

During the journey Sir Aravir will attempt to act as an outrider and scout. Making sure the group is not being followed or move ahead to make sure things are okay.

As the group approaches the dwarf and downed tree Sir Aravir will moves his horse to the back of the group and act as a rear guard.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"Aye lass, the day 'tis fine, but the road is not. I be needin' to get where you are, and it seems you need to get where I am, and this old mother of a tree has come to rest atwix us," he points out. The tree is indeed massive, as thick as the dwarf is tall. His little donkey can't jump it, and the terrain on each side is far too rugged to climb. When Haedyn starts to limber up with Riva, the dwarf's face lightens a bit. "And your fine young man there is perhaps the finest sight these eyes have seen today. I have not the tools to move it nor the time to go around."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Solara - [sblock]The dwarf seems unhappy about this delay, though glad to see the group. He seems somewhat older, middle-aged perhaps, and a bit portly. Obviously he's not in shape to go clambering over trees hauling hundreds of pounds worth of goods and a balky donkey.[/sblock]

"Dalart Flamechip is my name young ones, and I would be grateful for any aid you could render my poor bones this fine day," he says graciously with a small group. He looks at your group curiously but without unseemly alarm. Dalart doesn't seem to be heavily armed; a knife at his belt, a crossbow, a hand axe, and a quiver of bolts. He wears light leather armor under his tunic; the shape is clearly visible, but his stomach strains the seams a bit.

 

[Bront]

Solara steps forward to examine the tree, "Perhaps we could help move it somehow. It seems to thick to burn out, but perhaps several of us can pull it aside?"

 

[unleashed]

Haedyn, Male Lowlander Spirit Adept

“Well, I think we’ll probably need to break the tree up a bit, but let’s have a look first before I go sending woodchips everywhere,” Haedyn remarks with a grin, Riva resting easily on his shoulder as he moves forward to see if the tree can simply be dragged out of the way, “though a horse will likely do better for pulling than most of us combined, from my experience.”

 

[Starman]

"I would suggest using horses, as well," Galen says, feeling slightly annoyed at the delay. "If nothing else, I can try a spell."

 

[Widowmaker]

Sir Aravir nods. "Shade could pull it a lot easier than most of us. But as Haedyn said it would be best to have a look at the tree."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

A quick look at the tree proves it to be far too much for even Shade's mighty muscles to pull. But a section of it should be quite manageable. Haedyn gives Riva a few more practice swings and then sets to chopping through the tree with a will. The huge lowlander man is practiced at doing this kind of work, and in a remarkably short period of time the whole of the area is thick with wood chips. He's just getting to the sturdy heartwood, and Riva bites deep. To his shock, not to mention that of his companions, the tree showers a gout of blood as if he had just cut through the neck of a giant. A pain-filled scream fills the air and Dalart turns the color of milk.

Out from the sundered middle of the tree clambers a nude woman, perhaps once quite beautiful, but now her flesh is cut impossibly deep, wounds opening and closing on her body as she moves, each injury oddly bloodless. Scraggly hair decorated with dead leaves and flowers drapes down her back, and she hisses at you in anger and pain as she finishes wrenching herself out of the tree.

 

[Starman]

A dryad? Galen wonders trying to identify the creature.

In Sylvan, he says, "

Spoiler

I humbly apologize for the wounds. What can we do to aid you?

"

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Galen: [sblock]You recognize this woman from stories you've heard from your elders. It's a sundered woman, a dryad driven insane not only by the death of her tree but the corruption of the land. Their very touch can cause great bleeding wounds, and they are quite insane. Whatever has tainted the spirit of the land around here must be very bad indeed. Some of them can be reasoned with in one way or another, but you must always remember they are mad. While normal animals shun their presence (indeed the donkey and Shade are already nervous above and beyond what the blood-fountian and screaming could inflict), a sundered woman can invoke aid from the most bizarre and twisted creatures the world can produce.[/sblock] The woman looks at Galen in shock and spits back in harsh Sylvan, "

Spoiler

You! Where is he, who has taken my sister? My tree, where is she? She is dead and I cannot find her... Treekiller! Axewielder

" she shrieks something else, pointing at Haedyn in obvious hysteria, her eyes wide and trembling at the sight of his blood-stained axe.