digimattic
First Post
Arnir whispers to Kirio in a low voice "well at least she's talking to us..."
Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 2: The Indomitable Fire Forest of Innenotdar
- Thread starter Gregor
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The Bashar
First Post
Hrimr has been keeping pace with the party as they have been talking to the Nymph and the Dryad. He wasn't too happy with the way Kirio treated the Nymph but she was in quite the sorry state.
The Dryad appears to be in a similar state of depression. Hrimr decides to keep his mouth shut and hope Kirio can keep the conversation civil.
He is interested to know what kind of boars these are and things back to his days as a young druid.
The Dryad appears to be in a similar state of depression. Hrimr decides to keep his mouth shut and hope Kirio can keep the conversation civil.
He is interested to know what kind of boars these are and things back to his days as a young druid.
[sblock="for Hrimr"]You don't seem to know anything special about the Boars, but their age and immense size are definitely unusual.[/sblock]
Timbre gazes at the lock of Anyariel's hair with wide dark eyes. She blinks and shakes her head as if trying to determine if she is merely seeing things. Satisfied that the party and the ribbon-tied hair must be real, she slowly stands up and steps forward hesitantly. She comes to the edge of the burning grove and steps out into the clearing, directing the boars to back away.
The poor dryad blazes like a log in a hearth and you can hear the endless crackling of flames along her bark-like skin. She balls her hands up in fists and places them against her temples in obvious agony. Glimpsing the lock of hair seems to calm and soothe her however.
"The only thing left from my dearest love, my one and only Anyariel. How did you come upon this treasure that once was mine? I have not seen it since I left it with an elven priest many passages of Selune ago. I fear not touch it due to the flames, but to know it has survived these cursed days does much to soothe me. I thank you."
Timbre sits down in the clearing before you, struggling to stay calm and speak through her pain.
"You say you wish to know more about this place and its condition and that you may try to help end the pain? In that case, I welcome you to the First Tree and will try to answer your questions as best I can. What would you like to know?"
Timbre gazes at the lock of Anyariel's hair with wide dark eyes. She blinks and shakes her head as if trying to determine if she is merely seeing things. Satisfied that the party and the ribbon-tied hair must be real, she slowly stands up and steps forward hesitantly. She comes to the edge of the burning grove and steps out into the clearing, directing the boars to back away.
The poor dryad blazes like a log in a hearth and you can hear the endless crackling of flames along her bark-like skin. She balls her hands up in fists and places them against her temples in obvious agony. Glimpsing the lock of hair seems to calm and soothe her however.
"The only thing left from my dearest love, my one and only Anyariel. How did you come upon this treasure that once was mine? I have not seen it since I left it with an elven priest many passages of Selune ago. I fear not touch it due to the flames, but to know it has survived these cursed days does much to soothe me. I thank you."
Timbre sits down in the clearing before you, struggling to stay calm and speak through her pain.
"You say you wish to know more about this place and its condition and that you may try to help end the pain? In that case, I welcome you to the First Tree and will try to answer your questions as best I can. What would you like to know?"
Bannock steps forward and speaks, amazed at the sight of a woman made of wood and leaves.
"Milady, how are you able to stand the burning? It's amazing! I'm bloody sure I'd have passed out in shock from the pain of it, even if I was sustained by this forest's magics. Anyone as stout as you deserves respect, surely! So with all due respect, what we need to know is: how can the spirit that does all this be defeated? Your love, she tried once, and even though the job's unfinished, she stood up to this thing and imprisoned it. That's no easy feat, yeah? So you were closest to her, you must know something that she did, some way to end this thing. If she could trap it in the lake, maybe she knew of a way to really beat it, but she just never managed to get that far. If we don't figure something out soon, those Seela down the river, who're all a little mad if you ask me, even the good ones, might let the thing go free and kill everyone. I think what I'm sayin' 'ere is, we're open to suggestions!"
"Milady, how are you able to stand the burning? It's amazing! I'm bloody sure I'd have passed out in shock from the pain of it, even if I was sustained by this forest's magics. Anyone as stout as you deserves respect, surely! So with all due respect, what we need to know is: how can the spirit that does all this be defeated? Your love, she tried once, and even though the job's unfinished, she stood up to this thing and imprisoned it. That's no easy feat, yeah? So you were closest to her, you must know something that she did, some way to end this thing. If she could trap it in the lake, maybe she knew of a way to really beat it, but she just never managed to get that far. If we don't figure something out soon, those Seela down the river, who're all a little mad if you ask me, even the good ones, might let the thing go free and kill everyone. I think what I'm sayin' 'ere is, we're open to suggestions!"
Timbre manages a smile at Bannock's kind words, her dark walnut-wood colour eyes glimmering, through the pain of the endless flames that cover her body.
"The pain is ... immense, I cannot lie. Many times have I lapsed into unreason and fear as my skin scorches and crackles without surcease. The gift you have brought me today has returned me from the brink and I thank you."
She gathers herself, focusing against the obvious discomfort she faces and calls a flaming boar forward so that she can take comfort from its presence.
"To answer your question, my noble young human, is no simple matter. Humour me, please, as I try to explain. Behind me stands the First Tree of Innenotdar. It was blessed by a deity of life in time primeval, whose name and memory have faded into the past and whose portfolio resides in the realms of the new gods. Its first seeds were the Seela, children of the forest and caretakers of it. The Elves came ages later. I myself came from the Song of Forms, which when sung by the Seela, awakened me from the subconscious of the forest. I can vaguely recall the oldest stories of the Seela, of how they learned the song from the rumbling of the earth, from caves deep under the forest."
She takes a few breaths, gripping onto the flaming hide of the nearby boar for support.
"In a time of great crisis for the wood, when the Elves from the lands now known as Shahalesti first assaulted the Innenotdar Elves, the warrior Anyariel came to rest in this glade, and I came to care for her. In time, I came to love her. I gave her a most precious gift - a branch from the First Tree, a part of myself - and that branch became a blade when bonded with her hand. With her sword, Anyariel lead the crusade against the Shahalesti, and drove them back. Years later, the forest was infiltrated by something vile, a creature of indomitable life which infested the nightmares of the forest and would not let natural death take its course. As you know, Anyariel died after she imprisoned the creature, and a shrine was erected to her, hoping that her spirit might be as resilient as that of the beast she defeated. But when the Shahalesti came forty years ago, and set the woods ablaze, there was no hero to save them."
Tears roll down her cheek and turn to steam instantly. After a few moments of silent sadness, she continues.
"The spirit that lays imprisoned at the bottom of the lake is pinned there by Anyariel's sword, the branch from the First Tree. That spirit is kept within the body of a stag, as I am sure you know by now, by the Song of Forms of the Seela. Merely ending the song might release the foul entity, but it is unclear as to whether it will merely possess another and continue the cycle of pain and fire. Also, the Seela will die and that breaks my heart even further. However, there is a way to free the entity, end the song and save the Seela. Those gentle Fey are more directly tied to the First Tree than to the forest itself. Though my tree will continue to burn if the song stops, the branch I gave to Anyariel may live on and through it, the forest may be reborn and the Seela may not die."
She pauses and falls into convulsions as she struggles to maintain concentration through the never ending pain. Through gritted teeth she soldiers on.
"I...am sorry...but this pains me greatly. Anyariel's sword, the branch of my tree can only live on if it is bonded to another living creature. If the you are of a mind to save this forest, I can bond it to one of you before you leave so that when you touch it and draw it from the bed of the lake, the life of the First Tree, the forest and Seela will be bound to you. This will unleash the stag and the entity within again. What it will do, I cannot know. You may be forced to slay it. The forest will burn down, but as long as the bearer of the sword survives, so will the Seela. I too will die, burned to ash. However, I humbly accept this fate, and I look forward to the chance to be with my dear sweet Anyariel in the afterlife."
"The pain is ... immense, I cannot lie. Many times have I lapsed into unreason and fear as my skin scorches and crackles without surcease. The gift you have brought me today has returned me from the brink and I thank you."
She gathers herself, focusing against the obvious discomfort she faces and calls a flaming boar forward so that she can take comfort from its presence.
"To answer your question, my noble young human, is no simple matter. Humour me, please, as I try to explain. Behind me stands the First Tree of Innenotdar. It was blessed by a deity of life in time primeval, whose name and memory have faded into the past and whose portfolio resides in the realms of the new gods. Its first seeds were the Seela, children of the forest and caretakers of it. The Elves came ages later. I myself came from the Song of Forms, which when sung by the Seela, awakened me from the subconscious of the forest. I can vaguely recall the oldest stories of the Seela, of how they learned the song from the rumbling of the earth, from caves deep under the forest."
She takes a few breaths, gripping onto the flaming hide of the nearby boar for support.
"In a time of great crisis for the wood, when the Elves from the lands now known as Shahalesti first assaulted the Innenotdar Elves, the warrior Anyariel came to rest in this glade, and I came to care for her. In time, I came to love her. I gave her a most precious gift - a branch from the First Tree, a part of myself - and that branch became a blade when bonded with her hand. With her sword, Anyariel lead the crusade against the Shahalesti, and drove them back. Years later, the forest was infiltrated by something vile, a creature of indomitable life which infested the nightmares of the forest and would not let natural death take its course. As you know, Anyariel died after she imprisoned the creature, and a shrine was erected to her, hoping that her spirit might be as resilient as that of the beast she defeated. But when the Shahalesti came forty years ago, and set the woods ablaze, there was no hero to save them."
Tears roll down her cheek and turn to steam instantly. After a few moments of silent sadness, she continues.
"The spirit that lays imprisoned at the bottom of the lake is pinned there by Anyariel's sword, the branch from the First Tree. That spirit is kept within the body of a stag, as I am sure you know by now, by the Song of Forms of the Seela. Merely ending the song might release the foul entity, but it is unclear as to whether it will merely possess another and continue the cycle of pain and fire. Also, the Seela will die and that breaks my heart even further. However, there is a way to free the entity, end the song and save the Seela. Those gentle Fey are more directly tied to the First Tree than to the forest itself. Though my tree will continue to burn if the song stops, the branch I gave to Anyariel may live on and through it, the forest may be reborn and the Seela may not die."
She pauses and falls into convulsions as she struggles to maintain concentration through the never ending pain. Through gritted teeth she soldiers on.
"I...am sorry...but this pains me greatly. Anyariel's sword, the branch of my tree can only live on if it is bonded to another living creature. If the you are of a mind to save this forest, I can bond it to one of you before you leave so that when you touch it and draw it from the bed of the lake, the life of the First Tree, the forest and Seela will be bound to you. This will unleash the stag and the entity within again. What it will do, I cannot know. You may be forced to slay it. The forest will burn down, but as long as the bearer of the sword survives, so will the Seela. I too will die, burned to ash. However, I humbly accept this fate, and I look forward to the chance to be with my dear sweet Anyariel in the afterlife."
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The Bashar
First Post
Hrimr sits there silently and listens to this sad tale and the price that be paid to bring balance back to the woods. He begins to stroke his beard and think back to his days when he was a young druid in the caves of his home. Khorain his teacher taught him how all things are connected, that life relies on life. A Druid is nature's gardener. His there to weed and cultivate nature to ensure balance. Be it killing orcs ravaging the forest or to heal animals afflicted by disease. Balance must restored here and so Hrimr must becomes its instrument. For the good of the forest and its denizens.
"I will do it. I will bind myself to the First Tree. As a Druid, it is my duty."
"I will do it. I will bind myself to the First Tree. As a Druid, it is my duty."
"Your actions are noble, child of stone" says Timbre, "but know that Anyariel's sword has kept the beast pinned to the earth for very long. The branch it is shaped from can change to any shape you desire once in your possession, but are you certain you have the physical strength to draw it free?"
The Bashar
First Post
"I have some magic to give me strength and I have my comrades who will lend me theirs. Tell me what needs to be done and we will do it."
"Very well Dwarf," says Timbre, "I shall attune the branch of the first tree to your soul." She closes her eyes for a few minutes and when she opens them, she continues to speak. "It is done. Anyariel's soul is no longer matched with the branch and will bond to you once you draw it from the ground. If for any reason you should fall in battle or cease the ability to wield the branch, it can bond to another living creature so long as it is in their possession for at least one passage of the sun and moon."
Timbre walks back towards her tree, the giant boars sauntering at her heels.
"Remember heroes, once you draw the sword from the bed of the lake the beast will be free. I cannot say what it will do, but it will likely seek revenge on the Seela. I leave their fate and the fate of these woods to you, for only you can determine whether they live or die. In parting I only ask one favour: please leave the lock of Anyariel's hair here so that when the forest returns, a part of her may as well."
She lays back down at the foot of the great blazing willow.
"Good luck, heroes of Innenotdar."
Timbre walks back towards her tree, the giant boars sauntering at her heels.
"Remember heroes, once you draw the sword from the bed of the lake the beast will be free. I cannot say what it will do, but it will likely seek revenge on the Seela. I leave their fate and the fate of these woods to you, for only you can determine whether they live or die. In parting I only ask one favour: please leave the lock of Anyariel's hair here so that when the forest returns, a part of her may as well."
She lays back down at the foot of the great blazing willow.
"Good luck, heroes of Innenotdar."
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