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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Yair" data-source="post: 2623169" data-attributes="member: 10913">Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chainIn a most hideous and dreadful manner.You have heard of such a spirit, and well you knowThe superstitious idle-headed eldReceiv'd, and did deliver to our age,This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth.— William Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor----She shrieked.The great stag loomed above her, smelling of sweat and fear and blood. Hurriedly she half crawled and half run away, only to fall upon a holly tree, entangling herself in its branch. She wrestled free, tearing a new wound in her hand, and run on, clutching the wound and calling for help in any language she could muster.The black stag snorted, as if pouting at her unseemly behavior. It roared, a most unnatural roar that sent the forest into silence. Its bloody hoofs dug deep into the earth as it gave chase. It will taste blood tonight.----You have all arrived, at long last, at the site that is to become Teneo. The trek from Fengheld was long, though some of the party only joined you towards the end. Then you had to skirt the forest's edge to reach the site, a forest of fir and holly, dark and bitter. You sensed its malevolence, even as you skirted it to reach the clifftop.The site itself was a shallow plateau, with a ring of ancient stones squatting at its center. The stones seemed beaten and battered, and stood dry and grey, rudely protruding  from the snow-covered white ground in the dim evening light.A short while after the artisans settled in, you heard the scream. A woman's scream, a horrified yell, deep from within the forest. Then a roar, that no mundane throat can bear. OOC: Feel free to describe your actions after or prior to the scream or even sooner, ask questions, or whatever. All the magi are there, as well as the grogs and covenfolk and some artisans sent from Fengheld. It is twilight, some day on the beginning of the winter of 1220.</blockquote>

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