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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 1110847" data-attributes="member: 100">The Jihad of Karhoun EsbenStory Post 27Prologue:  The MissiveBough to bough, from great oak to weeping willow to maple to fir the letter on the oak-leaf traveled.  Sid the sprite was lounging in the upper reaches of a maple when she found the leaf that was well on its way.  She knew Elayle and the message was taken to Port Esben as fast as pixie’s wings could carry it.Elayle read the letter and cried in frustration.  She cried for many reasons but chiefly she cried once again at the fate of her sister, killed in Bastion almost a year ago by Sameal, or as his detractors called him, The Eel.  Frantically, tears wetting the leaves, she wrote nine missives.  She wrote the same message nine times over, pressing her quill to leaf in an angry manner.She approached the Pixie, still lounging in her upper branches, “Summon eight of your sisters.”The Pixie protested, “Eight?  As if I had eight sisters to send.  If you wanna know where they’re at, ask your Northern Lover.”The branches of the tree grasped the Pixie’s throat with surprisingly decisive speed.  After the Lady of the Black Oak explained her predicament and how far she was willing to go in order to remedy the situation, the Pixie recanted, “How about seven sisters and a little earth Mephit?”Less than an hour later nine leaves traveled the length and width of Eredane.  Many read of the Dryad who was killed as her tree burned in the northern night.  Most shrugged away the message, “Hard times are upon us all.  Naught to do about it.”Some went to sleep angry but fear overcame the anger and so they did nothing.Others ventured from their homes, hollows, valleys or boroughs and were killed by a Vardatch or a superstitious Erendlander or a foul Shadowspawn.  There are those who have marshaled their fear.  They are the hidden fey of Eredane, hiding in brook or glen, keeping out of  Izrador’s sight, tending their secret groves.  Other fey turned to the Shadow in the North long ago but still sneered at the idea of a Sarcosan Legate setting fire to a fair Dryad’s tree. They arrived in the Bastion district on hoof, wing and foot.  They were angry and ready to be led on a vengeful Faery jihad by a Northman hunter with iron in his veins and his cold, emotionless sister.</blockquote>

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