Tirlanolir/D'nemy's Tales of Turgos: The Heroes of Goldfire Glen (UPDATE 7/26)
Shieldhaven said:
It was a lot of fun to play. Gabriel's player and I roleplayed it out in Lilian's player's car one night. lol!
Things got really interesting in the game after these deaths, because resurrection is something very special in the game. So it clued the PCs into some larger things that were afoot. And Gabriel started obsessing about his parents' fate.
Meanwhile, Liilan was blissfully ignorant and oblivious.
But as Biscuit said, it was a great way to advance the plot and add flavor to resurrections.
Last edited:
catsclaw227
First Post
Awesome guys! I was hoping that you would be able to recover the posts after the crash. 
Chapter 18: Into the Wiltangle Forest
Sorry this one took so long!
* * * *
The chants and praise of the people of Soliel far behind us, Lilian, Gabriel, Talon and me settled into our horseback gait for the Wiltangle Forest. I only knew the place by name. Reputation, rumors, even bardic tales of the woodland were completely unknown to me. Talon said next to nothing about it, other than it was home for Shale’s master, a powerful Druid named Baern.
The Voice and Will of Canaan had told me it would be by the authority of the Green that Shale be returned, and that Baern had the knowledge and power to enact such a miracle.
Talon and I had brought the horrid face-stealing dagger of the Dark Faean to the Great Fane, where it was then secured in one of its vaults. In exchange, Gabriel was granted a suit of armor. The Voice and Will exclaimed it to be Cilestrial’s Armor, exclaiming it was part of the Evenshire Estate that had been gifted to the church on passing of Lilian and Gabriel’s parents. Its construction was such that it was as light as cloth, but as strong as steel. And it bore angelic symbols evidencing that it was divinely enchanted.
Shale’s body remained tied to a horse’s saddle, wrapped in linens that had been soaked in herbs and perfumes. I bestowed a gentle repose on the corpse to keep it from festering any further.
We traveled for two days, heading west along a well traveled dirt road. We passed other travelers along the way, each of us, in turn, paying little notice of the other. It was not uncommon for family and friends to travel with the remains of a loved one for many miles to bury them in some sentimental or preordained locality.
“The roads are quiet.” Talon said as we made camp on the side of the road at the end of the second day of travel. “I have yet to determine if that is a good omen or a bad one.”
We enjoyed a humble meal of roots and boar meat while warming ourselves around a crackling fire. At last Lilian spoke.
“I remember nothing.” She said distantly. “I have been trying to recall any of my experiences while I was… away, but I cannot recall anything. ‘Twas like a dreamless sleep.”
“Some would believe that to be ideal.” Talon responded.
“It is purgatory.” I responded. “Eternal sleep is not rest. It is a cold, lightless, lonely prison, one from which you can enjoy no hope of parole.”
“You are wrong, Evora.” Answered Gabriel. We all turned to him, jolted by his sudden bluntness. His tone and demeanor were reminiscent of the old, hostile brawler.
“Purgatory is nothing like that.” He said, his voice trembling.
“You were there?” I asked. Gabriel answered me with such a look of horror and loathing that I allowed his silence to provide me with all the answer I required. Lilian looked to me as if for support, but it was clear that she, too, did not dare to press the issue.
“Lilian does not remember where she was because…” Gabriel faltered, his voice trembled all the more. “Because it is Canaan’s Will.” He leaned toward Lilian, a staunch urgency filling him. “Sister, do not try to remember. Let it go. You have been brought back. I have been brought back. That is all we need to know.”
Lilian nodded, acknowledging her brother’s warning. I looked back to Gabriel. He had closed his eyes and began to quietly pray.
“It leads one to believe that Canaan wishes to hide something.” Said Talon, flatly enough, but his timbre held a tinge of obstinacy the likes of which I had never heard from the usually balanced ascetic. Though I could see an ember of anger bleeding into Gabriel’s face, he said nothing in response, and continued his prayers.
I thought it prudent to ignore Talon’s attempt to rile us as well. Let him have the last word in the name of the Green. It mattered little to me. I was too tired from traveling to engage in a lengthy debate.
Early the following morning, we came across a traveler who recognized us. He was a grizzled, old, but friendly enough farmer en route to Soliel from Auros. He was driving a cart pulled by a pair of tired looking donkeys. The cart was filled with barrels and opened crates, all bursting with succulent fruits and greens.
“By all that’s holy!” He shouted upon seeing us. “The Heroes of Goldfire Glen! And me wife refused to travel with me. Oh, won’t she be sorry when she hears of this!”
“What news from Auros?” Lilian inquired of the man.
His eyes lingered on her for a moment. His jaw suddenly dropped agape and he fell to his knees before her.
“In all my days!” He cried, his face in the dirt. “Would I die before witnessing such a time as this! Canaan’s Champion risen from the dead?”
“Calm yourself, good farmer.” Talon quietly intoned, placing a hand on the man’s back.
“I was there! I was there in Auros when you came! I saw the corpses, wrapped and bound to your horses!” He continued, not hearing or not heeding Talon’s attempts to calm him. “I was told what had befallen you, dear Lady, Blessed of Canaan. And I laughed when I was told what your companions were attempting to do. Oh, forgive an old, stupid man!”
The man writhed on the ground, his tears wetting the dirt. Gabriel knelt down beside him and began speaking softly, praying to Canaan while waving his hands above the man’s head. I recognized the prayer to calm emotions immediately.
It worked. The man relaxed with a sigh and allowed Talon and Gabriel to pull him to his feet and lead him back over to his cart. Gabriel used his robe to wipe the dirt from the man’s lips and cheeks.
The tenderness Gabriel showed to the man evidenced his new resolve to let go of his anger and embrace a path toward inner peace.
Lilian and I approached the man after he had taken a sip of water from a skin that hung on the edge of his cart.
“I ask again.” Lilian said. “Any news from Auros or Goldfire Glen?”
“Goldfire Glen I know little of.” The farmer said. “And Auros is still there, walls and all, but there are whispers of troubles brewing.”
“What sort of troubles?” I asked.
“Brightstone Keep, a long abandoned outpost of Auros, rumor has it, is overrun with goblinoids. It resides too close to the gates of Auros to let such pests stay unchecked, I say. Before you know it, their numbers will pour out of the keep and overrun the countryside. And that’s where I call hearth, home, and livelihood, don’t you know!”
We all looked to each other. This must be the work of Veshra, I thought. Her machinations have already begun to spread beyond the confines of the Wildlands. This was dire news indeed.
The farmer, who called himself Tolstyn, if memory serves, supplied us with a sampling of his delicious goods and was soon off.
The following day, we came upon the distant wall of trees that heralded the border of Wiltangle Forest.
I immediately saw a change in Talon’s usual stoic carapace. As we rode forward, I began to understand what troubled the ascetic. My first thought was that the forest’s name was truly earned, for the trunks were squat and heavy with thick, intertwining branches that barred easy passage. Leaves, dried and lifeless hung on desiccated limbs. The usual flurry of bird songs, squirrel chatters and the rustling of branches produced when skittish animals scurry for safety, was unnervingly absent.
Talon stopped his steed and took in the gloomy sight.
“Something is terribly wrong.” He finally said. “When last I entered Wiltangle with my Master, it was flourishing, beautiful and overflowing with life.”
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Lilian asked.
Talon responded with a nod that betrayed confusion, as if he was seriously considering the merits of Lilian’s question.
“How do we enter this forest with our horses?” Asked Gabriel. “There seems to be no break in the overgrowth.”
“There is a trail that dissects the wood.” Talon answered, absently, looking as if he was still trying to accept the extent of the forest’s metamorphosis. “Follow me.” He said after a few moments of weighty silence. He tore his gaze away from the decaying flora and led us around the edge of the wood until it turned northward.
After a few paces, Talon stopped his horse and dismounted.
“It is here.” He said, though I could spot no fluctuation in the tree’s growth. “Or, at least, it was before.”
“Are you sure, Talon?” Lilian asked again. “How long has it been since you were last here?”
“Help me find the path.” Talon answered, calmly but firmly ignoring Lilian’s inquiry.
Gabriel was the first off his horse. Though now a priest of Canaan, it was clear he had retained, from the show of grace by which he leapt from the saddle and joined Talon in the search, some of his old martial talents.
I followed the two into the tangles, but was lost as to where to begin a search for a path that had been overgrown. Though my family was devotees of the Green, none of us dedicated much time to forestry.
Mercifully, the search was short.
“Over here!” I heard Gabriel call.
Talon and I followed the sound of his voice to find him perched over a clump of tangled, low hanging branches. He had pushed them aside with his leg and held them back, revealing a narrow, but suitable path for horse travel.
“Is this it?” He asked Talon, straining from the weight of the branches.
Talon nodded.
“We’ll need a sword.” I said.
Talon shot me a look.
“To cut through that.” I added. “Unless you have other means of circumventing the growth. Our mounts won’t make it past.”
Talon seemed to consider my argument for a moment. Gabriel let go of the branches letting them fall back over the path, completely obscuring it.
“Very well.” He said at last, a touch of sadness in his voice. “If we must. I see we have no choice.”
Moments later Lilian had rejoined us and began the arduous task of hacking through the branches with her blade until enough of them had fallen away to give us room to ride past.
Her brow beaded with effort, she sheathed her blade and climbed back into her saddle.
“Lead the way, Talon.” She flatly commanded.
The forest was drearily silent. Not a rustle or a caw could be heard from any of the shadowed recesses and leafy alcoves that walled us on either side of our path. Most of the trees appeared near death, their once fertile tops bent naked to the ground like a swooning maiden who had just been given the news that her betrothed had been slain in a battle. We rode single file, as vast portions of the path narrowed far too tightly to facilitate much else.
After an endlessly quiet stretch of time, Talon suddenly stopped. He dismounted and raised a hand and we all pulled the reins back on our mounts. They obeyed. Gabriel, who had the reins of Shale’s horse, in addition to his own, managed to stop both of them with little effort.
Talon took a step forward, and then stopped again. He turned back toward his horse, came around to its backside and padded its rump. It looked to its old master and suddenly trotted off the path and into the forest.
“What are you doing?” Lilian curtly demanded. I, too, was flummoxed by Talon’s action.
But before Talon could explain, two low, but deafening moans engulfed the shadowy surrounding. The sounds were reminiscent of the long, wooden horns blown by ascetics in their secluded mountain monasteries, but that music is designed to bring about a sensation of tranquility. This sound filled me with dread.
Something massive moved on either side of the path. Branches swayed to and fro over two lumbering forms that broke from the surrounding trees, threatening to cut off the path before us.
“By Canaan!” Whispered Lilian. “What are those things?”
“Shambling mounds.” Said Talon. “Corrupted sentient plants. They are well beyond our skill. We must flee.”
“We cannot turn back.” Said Gabriel.
“Then we push through!” Snapped Lilian as she kicked at the sides of her horse, sending it into a gallop. She let out a battle cry as she unsheathed her blade and slashed at the vegetation’s menacing branches.
Talon tumbled forward, effortlessly evading the creatures’ threats with weightless grace.
I galloped up beside Gabriel’s horse and reached out a hand to help him take the reins of Shale’s steed. Together we kicked our horses forward, pushing them to top speed.
We both prayed to Canaan to grant us His divine shield. A glittering aura surrounded us as we plowed through the narrowing gap between the two stirring trunks. Branches lashed down at us, grasping like talons, but by the glory of Canaan, our divine shields turned back their onslaught.
We broke through the menace unscathed, Shale’s steed in tow. Lilian and Talon were already far ahead of us. We raced on, leaving the slow moving, hulking creatures far behind us.
To my amazement, Talon was almost keeping pace with Lilian’s horse. He was bounding down the path in great, leaping strides.
Despite this show of talent, it was still not quite enough to out pace a horse in full gallop, and we were soon on top of the monk.
He looked up at us, then back at the path. The shambling mounds were no where to be seen.
“I believe we are in the clear.” Talon said.
Gabriel called out to his sister, but she was too far ahead to hear.
“I’ll take Shale’s reins.” I said to him. “Go after her and let her know we’re out of danger.”
Gabriel nodded, handed me the reins and took off. A moment later he was gone from view.
Talon leaned up against the trunk of a tree. His breathing was a bit labored, but still fit.
“That was an impressive gait.” I said to him. He simply nodded.
“It is part of the training of my order.” He said, taking in a deep breath and steadied himself. “Wiltangle is horribly corrupted. I only hope that Baern has not fled or… or worse.”
“Is that why you relinquished your horse?” I asked.
“Partly.” He said.
Heavy quick hoof falls interrupted my opportunity to ask Talon more. We looked toward the sound to see Lilian appear on the path. Gabriel was not with her.
She steadied her steed as she came up to us.
“Where’s Gabriel?” I asked her.
“He was right behind me.” She said, looking around, suddenly worried.
Just then a howl broke through the pounding silence of the forest. Another answered it. Before we could react, several more joined in chorus. The sound was far from the placid, somber howls of wild timber wolves calling their brethren together. It was deeper, crueler and held a malevolent intelligence.
Gabriel suddenly burst into view on the path before us. His white robes were torn and stained with his blood. He stumbled toward us, collapsing to the ground before we could reach him.
Lilian and I both cried out to Canaan for His healing grace. White glows surrounded our palms as we placed them on Gabriel’s deep wounds. The blood was stemmed and the gashes closed.
“Dire wolves!” Gabriel uttered as he swelled back to full consciousness. “Almost as big as a mare. They leapt out of nowhere and killed my horse. I did all I could to fight them off, but there were too many of them. They dragged the horse away and almost got me as well.”
The forest was suddenly drowned in their devilish dirge. Yellow, glowing eyes blinked in the gathering shadows around us. Growls emanated from the darkness.
Talon turned to us and through clinched teeth snarled “Follow me.”
He leapt off down the path. We did not hesitate an instant and pursued the monk as he bounded inhumanly fast in front of us. The howls only intensified.
Despite us pushing our steeds as fast as they could, Talon remained several paces ahead. He led us to a fork in the road. One way led slightly north, the other sharply south. He made for the southern path, and we followed, trusting in his knowledge of the forest and the way to Master Baern’s sanctum. Even so, I quietly prayed to Canaan for guidance and aid.
No sooner had my prayer ended that my tired eyes beheld a sight that caused my heart to leap. For a blissful moment the cries of the wolves were muted as all my senses focused on a clearing up ahead, and in the center of the it was built a circle of tall standing stones.
Such places were sacred to the denizens on the Green, and I knew we must be close to Baern. Talon had done it.
But as with all things, even hope can be fleeting. As we rode into the midst of the circle, I spotted Talon staring stone faced and frozen before an altar in the center of the grove. Upon it, flayed open, its blood still freshly dripping down the stony sides, was a woman, naked but for single crimson stained piece of cloth that shielded her most delicates.
The sound of the baying wolves once again assaulted us.
I dismounted, took hold of my mace and began to intone a prayer of divine favor to guide my hand. Lilian unsheathed her blade. Gabriel slinked back behind a standing stone and began to pray. Talon readied himself into a defensive stance.
All around us the wolves gathered. A great ring of mangy fur, bared, salivating teeth and hungry yellow eyes sprang out from the overgrowth.
We were overwhelmed.
The battle went on for a very long time. There were but few of the tainted wolves, six in all, but they had amazing fortitude. Gabriel’s description of them was apt; they were as massive as horses, but still as lithe as the most adroit hound. Rage and hunger seethed behind their eyes and as they snapped and tore at us with their maws and clawed paws.
Lilian was never more masterful with her blade, but even her expertise was no match for the sheer, primal power of the monstrous beasts.
I uttered prayers of aid, blessings, cures and divine shields. They helped stem the tide from completely overtaking us, but the wolves refused to falter.
Talon effectively slashed with his fists and feet. He even managed to snap a few of their throats by getting his arms around their massive necks and twisting with all his strength.
Gabriel held back from getting into the fray. I noticed his eyes were fixed on something just outside the circle. He seemed to be speaking to it, even pleading with it, but over the noise of the battle I could not hear what he was saying.
Lilian was struck deep by one of the wolves. Its massive maw tore into her side and ripped out a chunk of her flesh. She screamed with pain and I ran over to her. Spontaneously praying to cure her, I got behind her and the wolf in time to heal her. I only managed to stop the bleeding. The wound was too deep and she was having trouble standing.
“Gabriel!” I called out. “We need you! Your sister is in mortal danger!”
The wolf turned to me. I dove for it with my mace and managed only to strike the ground as it reeled back and let out a howl. Two of its cousins came up behind me. I was surrounded, but for the moment Lilian was being ignored.
They bit down at me, but I evaded their blows. I swung with my mace, catching one in the side of the head, splintering a part of its skull, but it still moved.
I spotted out of the corner of my eye Gabriel racing up to his sister. His hands were sheathed in balls of light.
I did not have time to relish the moment, however as two of the wolves snapped at me. One slashed into my shoulder. Pain rained down my arm and back, but I was still more than able to fight.
The third wolf on me must have seen the flicker in my eyes as I caught Gabriel’s actions, for it turned away from me and bounded at Gabriel.
I shouted a warning, but it was too late. The wolf had pounced, slammed its jaws down on Gabriel’s thigh and dragged him away.
We were desperate for aid. Lilian stood. Still bleeding from the wolves’ deep rakes despite her brother’s aid, the Champion of Canaan raised a hand to the heavens, and then balled it into a fist.
“Canaan!” She cried. “Please Lord! Grant your Champion aid that she may smite her foes!”
There was a warm blast of wind that shot through the clearing. An ethereal, feminine voice echoed on the wind. “Damian!” it uttered. It was followed by a winnie. A gleaming light flashed near the altar and out it sprang, fully saddled and wreathed in a silver halo, the most beautiful stallion I had ever seen. I had read of paladins and their mythical, celestially-ordained steeds, but this was the first I had ever witnessed the awe-inspiring miracle. I immediately gave glory to Canaan, and with renewed vigor faced down the rampaging, snarling wolves.
Lilian charged her conjured ally and leapt into the saddle. Its whinny broke over the cacophony of the battle. Three more wolves raced into the clearing. The horse was at once surrounded.
I continued to evade the last two wolves’ attacks, but my will was beginning to fray. I plunged my mace into the same spot of the wolf’s skull I had cracked just a moment before and felt the boney helm shatter at the blow. Blood sprung from the wolf’s mouth and it fell.
More bounded at me. I steadied myself, ready to die fighting, when I suddenly saw two horse hooves lash out at one of the wolves on my left. It was struck dead in the side and let out a short shrill cry as it was thrown into one of the circle’s standing stones with a terrible snap.
I turned to see Lilian, astride her horse, commanding it to continue its onslaught. The three wolves that had surrounded her just a moment before lay unmoving at the very spot they threatened her.
“Damian!” She shouted. “Vanquish them to the last!”
In a fury of hooves, teeth, steel and Talon’s fists, the tide had at last turned in our favor. The battle continued for several more agonizing, bloody minutes. All the while, Gabriel’s fate was clear in my mind. If we were delayed much longer, I feared the worse for him.
At last the final wolf fell. It was only then that we realized all the other horses, including the one that bore Shale’s remains, were gone.
“I’ll go after them.” Talon volunteered immediately. “You find Gabriel.”
There was no debate. Talon leapt from the clearing in search of our errant horses, while Lilian pulled me up to Damian’s saddle.
A moment later we heard the sound of the struggle to the south of us. Gabriel was screaming in agony.
Lilian kicked at Damian’s sides and we took off with the violence of a hurricane’s wind. We raced between the thick web of trees, the celestial steed’s grace and strength never faltering.
Within moments, we saw Gabriel, lying on the leaf strewn ground, his thigh held by a wolf’s jaw. Two more were slowly advancing on him, their back hairs erect and their tongues ravenously bobbing from their toothy maws.
Damian leapt between Gabriel and the two advancing wolves. His hooves struck at their jaws, shattering bones and snuffing out their lives.
Lilian and I jumped from Damian’s saddle and raced to toward Gabriel.
Our efforts to overcome the wolf that had him were thwarted by its diabolical tactic of using her brother as a shield. All we could do was keep the creature from dragging Gabriel off. Lilian suddenly looked toward me and nodded, her eyes drifting just behind me. I gave a quick look to see Damian digging at the ground, its nostrils flared, ready for one more attack.
Lilian and I positioned ourselves on either side of the wolf. It dragged Gabriel across the ground. Lilian slashed at the wolf as I swung my mace to and fro. We circled around the beast, corralling it until its back was right where we wanted it. Lilian gave a nod to Damian and the horse unleashed its full fury on the back end of the wolf. Two mighty hooves and its powerful bite crushed and tore through flesh and bone.
In its dying throes the wolf wrenched Gabriel’s leg. The brawler-turned-repentant let out a horrible scream of primal agony. Blood gushed from the wolf’s mouth as Gabriel’s leg was torn from its hip socket. Only then did death take the wolf and it moved no more.
Lilian and I both gasped and ran for Gabriel.
Lilian took her brother into her arms, laying her healing hands upon him. Pain etched his face, but the bleeding ceased.
“The white stag.” He whispered to her. “Did you see it?”
Lilian turned to me, searching for some answer. “Did you see it?” He repeated.
Lilian shook her head.
“Evora.” She said desperately. “Can you help him?”
I looked down at Gabriel and shook my head.
“This is beyond me.” I sadly replied.
We heard hoof falls. Something was moving through the opaque foliage toward us. Lilian took hold of the hilt of the blade. My fists wrapped around my mace. Branches were brushed aside revealing Talon. Just behind him, leading our horses back to us, was a snow white stag, its massive antlers twisting majestically upwards.
“It seems we have a friend in this forest after all.” Said Talon. “I could not find the horses. This stag tracked them down and led them back to me.”
Lilian and I both heaved a great sigh of relief. Talon looked down at the mutilated Gabriel. He bent over him and shook his head sadly.
“Perhaps Baern and the power of the Green can restore him.” He said.
Lilian and I looked to each other. It was clear we were all thinking, hoping and praying for the same thing.
Sorry this one took so long!
* * * *
The chants and praise of the people of Soliel far behind us, Lilian, Gabriel, Talon and me settled into our horseback gait for the Wiltangle Forest. I only knew the place by name. Reputation, rumors, even bardic tales of the woodland were completely unknown to me. Talon said next to nothing about it, other than it was home for Shale’s master, a powerful Druid named Baern.
The Voice and Will of Canaan had told me it would be by the authority of the Green that Shale be returned, and that Baern had the knowledge and power to enact such a miracle.
Talon and I had brought the horrid face-stealing dagger of the Dark Faean to the Great Fane, where it was then secured in one of its vaults. In exchange, Gabriel was granted a suit of armor. The Voice and Will exclaimed it to be Cilestrial’s Armor, exclaiming it was part of the Evenshire Estate that had been gifted to the church on passing of Lilian and Gabriel’s parents. Its construction was such that it was as light as cloth, but as strong as steel. And it bore angelic symbols evidencing that it was divinely enchanted.
Shale’s body remained tied to a horse’s saddle, wrapped in linens that had been soaked in herbs and perfumes. I bestowed a gentle repose on the corpse to keep it from festering any further.
We traveled for two days, heading west along a well traveled dirt road. We passed other travelers along the way, each of us, in turn, paying little notice of the other. It was not uncommon for family and friends to travel with the remains of a loved one for many miles to bury them in some sentimental or preordained locality.
“The roads are quiet.” Talon said as we made camp on the side of the road at the end of the second day of travel. “I have yet to determine if that is a good omen or a bad one.”
We enjoyed a humble meal of roots and boar meat while warming ourselves around a crackling fire. At last Lilian spoke.
“I remember nothing.” She said distantly. “I have been trying to recall any of my experiences while I was… away, but I cannot recall anything. ‘Twas like a dreamless sleep.”
“Some would believe that to be ideal.” Talon responded.
“It is purgatory.” I responded. “Eternal sleep is not rest. It is a cold, lightless, lonely prison, one from which you can enjoy no hope of parole.”
“You are wrong, Evora.” Answered Gabriel. We all turned to him, jolted by his sudden bluntness. His tone and demeanor were reminiscent of the old, hostile brawler.
“Purgatory is nothing like that.” He said, his voice trembling.
“You were there?” I asked. Gabriel answered me with such a look of horror and loathing that I allowed his silence to provide me with all the answer I required. Lilian looked to me as if for support, but it was clear that she, too, did not dare to press the issue.
“Lilian does not remember where she was because…” Gabriel faltered, his voice trembled all the more. “Because it is Canaan’s Will.” He leaned toward Lilian, a staunch urgency filling him. “Sister, do not try to remember. Let it go. You have been brought back. I have been brought back. That is all we need to know.”
Lilian nodded, acknowledging her brother’s warning. I looked back to Gabriel. He had closed his eyes and began to quietly pray.
“It leads one to believe that Canaan wishes to hide something.” Said Talon, flatly enough, but his timbre held a tinge of obstinacy the likes of which I had never heard from the usually balanced ascetic. Though I could see an ember of anger bleeding into Gabriel’s face, he said nothing in response, and continued his prayers.
I thought it prudent to ignore Talon’s attempt to rile us as well. Let him have the last word in the name of the Green. It mattered little to me. I was too tired from traveling to engage in a lengthy debate.
Early the following morning, we came across a traveler who recognized us. He was a grizzled, old, but friendly enough farmer en route to Soliel from Auros. He was driving a cart pulled by a pair of tired looking donkeys. The cart was filled with barrels and opened crates, all bursting with succulent fruits and greens.
“By all that’s holy!” He shouted upon seeing us. “The Heroes of Goldfire Glen! And me wife refused to travel with me. Oh, won’t she be sorry when she hears of this!”
“What news from Auros?” Lilian inquired of the man.
His eyes lingered on her for a moment. His jaw suddenly dropped agape and he fell to his knees before her.
“In all my days!” He cried, his face in the dirt. “Would I die before witnessing such a time as this! Canaan’s Champion risen from the dead?”
“Calm yourself, good farmer.” Talon quietly intoned, placing a hand on the man’s back.
“I was there! I was there in Auros when you came! I saw the corpses, wrapped and bound to your horses!” He continued, not hearing or not heeding Talon’s attempts to calm him. “I was told what had befallen you, dear Lady, Blessed of Canaan. And I laughed when I was told what your companions were attempting to do. Oh, forgive an old, stupid man!”
The man writhed on the ground, his tears wetting the dirt. Gabriel knelt down beside him and began speaking softly, praying to Canaan while waving his hands above the man’s head. I recognized the prayer to calm emotions immediately.
It worked. The man relaxed with a sigh and allowed Talon and Gabriel to pull him to his feet and lead him back over to his cart. Gabriel used his robe to wipe the dirt from the man’s lips and cheeks.
The tenderness Gabriel showed to the man evidenced his new resolve to let go of his anger and embrace a path toward inner peace.
Lilian and I approached the man after he had taken a sip of water from a skin that hung on the edge of his cart.
“I ask again.” Lilian said. “Any news from Auros or Goldfire Glen?”
“Goldfire Glen I know little of.” The farmer said. “And Auros is still there, walls and all, but there are whispers of troubles brewing.”
“What sort of troubles?” I asked.
“Brightstone Keep, a long abandoned outpost of Auros, rumor has it, is overrun with goblinoids. It resides too close to the gates of Auros to let such pests stay unchecked, I say. Before you know it, their numbers will pour out of the keep and overrun the countryside. And that’s where I call hearth, home, and livelihood, don’t you know!”
We all looked to each other. This must be the work of Veshra, I thought. Her machinations have already begun to spread beyond the confines of the Wildlands. This was dire news indeed.
The farmer, who called himself Tolstyn, if memory serves, supplied us with a sampling of his delicious goods and was soon off.
The following day, we came upon the distant wall of trees that heralded the border of Wiltangle Forest.
I immediately saw a change in Talon’s usual stoic carapace. As we rode forward, I began to understand what troubled the ascetic. My first thought was that the forest’s name was truly earned, for the trunks were squat and heavy with thick, intertwining branches that barred easy passage. Leaves, dried and lifeless hung on desiccated limbs. The usual flurry of bird songs, squirrel chatters and the rustling of branches produced when skittish animals scurry for safety, was unnervingly absent.
Talon stopped his steed and took in the gloomy sight.
“Something is terribly wrong.” He finally said. “When last I entered Wiltangle with my Master, it was flourishing, beautiful and overflowing with life.”
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Lilian asked.
Talon responded with a nod that betrayed confusion, as if he was seriously considering the merits of Lilian’s question.
“How do we enter this forest with our horses?” Asked Gabriel. “There seems to be no break in the overgrowth.”
“There is a trail that dissects the wood.” Talon answered, absently, looking as if he was still trying to accept the extent of the forest’s metamorphosis. “Follow me.” He said after a few moments of weighty silence. He tore his gaze away from the decaying flora and led us around the edge of the wood until it turned northward.
After a few paces, Talon stopped his horse and dismounted.
“It is here.” He said, though I could spot no fluctuation in the tree’s growth. “Or, at least, it was before.”
“Are you sure, Talon?” Lilian asked again. “How long has it been since you were last here?”
“Help me find the path.” Talon answered, calmly but firmly ignoring Lilian’s inquiry.
Gabriel was the first off his horse. Though now a priest of Canaan, it was clear he had retained, from the show of grace by which he leapt from the saddle and joined Talon in the search, some of his old martial talents.
I followed the two into the tangles, but was lost as to where to begin a search for a path that had been overgrown. Though my family was devotees of the Green, none of us dedicated much time to forestry.
Mercifully, the search was short.
“Over here!” I heard Gabriel call.
Talon and I followed the sound of his voice to find him perched over a clump of tangled, low hanging branches. He had pushed them aside with his leg and held them back, revealing a narrow, but suitable path for horse travel.
“Is this it?” He asked Talon, straining from the weight of the branches.
Talon nodded.
“We’ll need a sword.” I said.
Talon shot me a look.
“To cut through that.” I added. “Unless you have other means of circumventing the growth. Our mounts won’t make it past.”
Talon seemed to consider my argument for a moment. Gabriel let go of the branches letting them fall back over the path, completely obscuring it.
“Very well.” He said at last, a touch of sadness in his voice. “If we must. I see we have no choice.”
Moments later Lilian had rejoined us and began the arduous task of hacking through the branches with her blade until enough of them had fallen away to give us room to ride past.
Her brow beaded with effort, she sheathed her blade and climbed back into her saddle.
“Lead the way, Talon.” She flatly commanded.
The forest was drearily silent. Not a rustle or a caw could be heard from any of the shadowed recesses and leafy alcoves that walled us on either side of our path. Most of the trees appeared near death, their once fertile tops bent naked to the ground like a swooning maiden who had just been given the news that her betrothed had been slain in a battle. We rode single file, as vast portions of the path narrowed far too tightly to facilitate much else.
After an endlessly quiet stretch of time, Talon suddenly stopped. He dismounted and raised a hand and we all pulled the reins back on our mounts. They obeyed. Gabriel, who had the reins of Shale’s horse, in addition to his own, managed to stop both of them with little effort.
Talon took a step forward, and then stopped again. He turned back toward his horse, came around to its backside and padded its rump. It looked to its old master and suddenly trotted off the path and into the forest.
“What are you doing?” Lilian curtly demanded. I, too, was flummoxed by Talon’s action.
But before Talon could explain, two low, but deafening moans engulfed the shadowy surrounding. The sounds were reminiscent of the long, wooden horns blown by ascetics in their secluded mountain monasteries, but that music is designed to bring about a sensation of tranquility. This sound filled me with dread.
Something massive moved on either side of the path. Branches swayed to and fro over two lumbering forms that broke from the surrounding trees, threatening to cut off the path before us.
“By Canaan!” Whispered Lilian. “What are those things?”
“Shambling mounds.” Said Talon. “Corrupted sentient plants. They are well beyond our skill. We must flee.”
“We cannot turn back.” Said Gabriel.
“Then we push through!” Snapped Lilian as she kicked at the sides of her horse, sending it into a gallop. She let out a battle cry as she unsheathed her blade and slashed at the vegetation’s menacing branches.
Talon tumbled forward, effortlessly evading the creatures’ threats with weightless grace.
I galloped up beside Gabriel’s horse and reached out a hand to help him take the reins of Shale’s steed. Together we kicked our horses forward, pushing them to top speed.
We both prayed to Canaan to grant us His divine shield. A glittering aura surrounded us as we plowed through the narrowing gap between the two stirring trunks. Branches lashed down at us, grasping like talons, but by the glory of Canaan, our divine shields turned back their onslaught.
We broke through the menace unscathed, Shale’s steed in tow. Lilian and Talon were already far ahead of us. We raced on, leaving the slow moving, hulking creatures far behind us.
To my amazement, Talon was almost keeping pace with Lilian’s horse. He was bounding down the path in great, leaping strides.
Despite this show of talent, it was still not quite enough to out pace a horse in full gallop, and we were soon on top of the monk.
He looked up at us, then back at the path. The shambling mounds were no where to be seen.
“I believe we are in the clear.” Talon said.
Gabriel called out to his sister, but she was too far ahead to hear.
“I’ll take Shale’s reins.” I said to him. “Go after her and let her know we’re out of danger.”
Gabriel nodded, handed me the reins and took off. A moment later he was gone from view.
Talon leaned up against the trunk of a tree. His breathing was a bit labored, but still fit.
“That was an impressive gait.” I said to him. He simply nodded.
“It is part of the training of my order.” He said, taking in a deep breath and steadied himself. “Wiltangle is horribly corrupted. I only hope that Baern has not fled or… or worse.”
“Is that why you relinquished your horse?” I asked.
“Partly.” He said.
Heavy quick hoof falls interrupted my opportunity to ask Talon more. We looked toward the sound to see Lilian appear on the path. Gabriel was not with her.
She steadied her steed as she came up to us.
“Where’s Gabriel?” I asked her.
“He was right behind me.” She said, looking around, suddenly worried.
Just then a howl broke through the pounding silence of the forest. Another answered it. Before we could react, several more joined in chorus. The sound was far from the placid, somber howls of wild timber wolves calling their brethren together. It was deeper, crueler and held a malevolent intelligence.
Gabriel suddenly burst into view on the path before us. His white robes were torn and stained with his blood. He stumbled toward us, collapsing to the ground before we could reach him.
Lilian and I both cried out to Canaan for His healing grace. White glows surrounded our palms as we placed them on Gabriel’s deep wounds. The blood was stemmed and the gashes closed.
“Dire wolves!” Gabriel uttered as he swelled back to full consciousness. “Almost as big as a mare. They leapt out of nowhere and killed my horse. I did all I could to fight them off, but there were too many of them. They dragged the horse away and almost got me as well.”
The forest was suddenly drowned in their devilish dirge. Yellow, glowing eyes blinked in the gathering shadows around us. Growls emanated from the darkness.
Talon turned to us and through clinched teeth snarled “Follow me.”
He leapt off down the path. We did not hesitate an instant and pursued the monk as he bounded inhumanly fast in front of us. The howls only intensified.
Despite us pushing our steeds as fast as they could, Talon remained several paces ahead. He led us to a fork in the road. One way led slightly north, the other sharply south. He made for the southern path, and we followed, trusting in his knowledge of the forest and the way to Master Baern’s sanctum. Even so, I quietly prayed to Canaan for guidance and aid.
No sooner had my prayer ended that my tired eyes beheld a sight that caused my heart to leap. For a blissful moment the cries of the wolves were muted as all my senses focused on a clearing up ahead, and in the center of the it was built a circle of tall standing stones.
Such places were sacred to the denizens on the Green, and I knew we must be close to Baern. Talon had done it.
But as with all things, even hope can be fleeting. As we rode into the midst of the circle, I spotted Talon staring stone faced and frozen before an altar in the center of the grove. Upon it, flayed open, its blood still freshly dripping down the stony sides, was a woman, naked but for single crimson stained piece of cloth that shielded her most delicates.
The sound of the baying wolves once again assaulted us.
I dismounted, took hold of my mace and began to intone a prayer of divine favor to guide my hand. Lilian unsheathed her blade. Gabriel slinked back behind a standing stone and began to pray. Talon readied himself into a defensive stance.
All around us the wolves gathered. A great ring of mangy fur, bared, salivating teeth and hungry yellow eyes sprang out from the overgrowth.
We were overwhelmed.
The battle went on for a very long time. There were but few of the tainted wolves, six in all, but they had amazing fortitude. Gabriel’s description of them was apt; they were as massive as horses, but still as lithe as the most adroit hound. Rage and hunger seethed behind their eyes and as they snapped and tore at us with their maws and clawed paws.
Lilian was never more masterful with her blade, but even her expertise was no match for the sheer, primal power of the monstrous beasts.
I uttered prayers of aid, blessings, cures and divine shields. They helped stem the tide from completely overtaking us, but the wolves refused to falter.
Talon effectively slashed with his fists and feet. He even managed to snap a few of their throats by getting his arms around their massive necks and twisting with all his strength.
Gabriel held back from getting into the fray. I noticed his eyes were fixed on something just outside the circle. He seemed to be speaking to it, even pleading with it, but over the noise of the battle I could not hear what he was saying.
Lilian was struck deep by one of the wolves. Its massive maw tore into her side and ripped out a chunk of her flesh. She screamed with pain and I ran over to her. Spontaneously praying to cure her, I got behind her and the wolf in time to heal her. I only managed to stop the bleeding. The wound was too deep and she was having trouble standing.
“Gabriel!” I called out. “We need you! Your sister is in mortal danger!”
The wolf turned to me. I dove for it with my mace and managed only to strike the ground as it reeled back and let out a howl. Two of its cousins came up behind me. I was surrounded, but for the moment Lilian was being ignored.
They bit down at me, but I evaded their blows. I swung with my mace, catching one in the side of the head, splintering a part of its skull, but it still moved.
I spotted out of the corner of my eye Gabriel racing up to his sister. His hands were sheathed in balls of light.
I did not have time to relish the moment, however as two of the wolves snapped at me. One slashed into my shoulder. Pain rained down my arm and back, but I was still more than able to fight.
The third wolf on me must have seen the flicker in my eyes as I caught Gabriel’s actions, for it turned away from me and bounded at Gabriel.
I shouted a warning, but it was too late. The wolf had pounced, slammed its jaws down on Gabriel’s thigh and dragged him away.
We were desperate for aid. Lilian stood. Still bleeding from the wolves’ deep rakes despite her brother’s aid, the Champion of Canaan raised a hand to the heavens, and then balled it into a fist.
“Canaan!” She cried. “Please Lord! Grant your Champion aid that she may smite her foes!”
There was a warm blast of wind that shot through the clearing. An ethereal, feminine voice echoed on the wind. “Damian!” it uttered. It was followed by a winnie. A gleaming light flashed near the altar and out it sprang, fully saddled and wreathed in a silver halo, the most beautiful stallion I had ever seen. I had read of paladins and their mythical, celestially-ordained steeds, but this was the first I had ever witnessed the awe-inspiring miracle. I immediately gave glory to Canaan, and with renewed vigor faced down the rampaging, snarling wolves.
Lilian charged her conjured ally and leapt into the saddle. Its whinny broke over the cacophony of the battle. Three more wolves raced into the clearing. The horse was at once surrounded.
I continued to evade the last two wolves’ attacks, but my will was beginning to fray. I plunged my mace into the same spot of the wolf’s skull I had cracked just a moment before and felt the boney helm shatter at the blow. Blood sprung from the wolf’s mouth and it fell.
More bounded at me. I steadied myself, ready to die fighting, when I suddenly saw two horse hooves lash out at one of the wolves on my left. It was struck dead in the side and let out a short shrill cry as it was thrown into one of the circle’s standing stones with a terrible snap.
I turned to see Lilian, astride her horse, commanding it to continue its onslaught. The three wolves that had surrounded her just a moment before lay unmoving at the very spot they threatened her.
“Damian!” She shouted. “Vanquish them to the last!”
In a fury of hooves, teeth, steel and Talon’s fists, the tide had at last turned in our favor. The battle continued for several more agonizing, bloody minutes. All the while, Gabriel’s fate was clear in my mind. If we were delayed much longer, I feared the worse for him.
At last the final wolf fell. It was only then that we realized all the other horses, including the one that bore Shale’s remains, were gone.
“I’ll go after them.” Talon volunteered immediately. “You find Gabriel.”
There was no debate. Talon leapt from the clearing in search of our errant horses, while Lilian pulled me up to Damian’s saddle.
A moment later we heard the sound of the struggle to the south of us. Gabriel was screaming in agony.
Lilian kicked at Damian’s sides and we took off with the violence of a hurricane’s wind. We raced between the thick web of trees, the celestial steed’s grace and strength never faltering.
Within moments, we saw Gabriel, lying on the leaf strewn ground, his thigh held by a wolf’s jaw. Two more were slowly advancing on him, their back hairs erect and their tongues ravenously bobbing from their toothy maws.
Damian leapt between Gabriel and the two advancing wolves. His hooves struck at their jaws, shattering bones and snuffing out their lives.
Lilian and I jumped from Damian’s saddle and raced to toward Gabriel.
Our efforts to overcome the wolf that had him were thwarted by its diabolical tactic of using her brother as a shield. All we could do was keep the creature from dragging Gabriel off. Lilian suddenly looked toward me and nodded, her eyes drifting just behind me. I gave a quick look to see Damian digging at the ground, its nostrils flared, ready for one more attack.
Lilian and I positioned ourselves on either side of the wolf. It dragged Gabriel across the ground. Lilian slashed at the wolf as I swung my mace to and fro. We circled around the beast, corralling it until its back was right where we wanted it. Lilian gave a nod to Damian and the horse unleashed its full fury on the back end of the wolf. Two mighty hooves and its powerful bite crushed and tore through flesh and bone.
In its dying throes the wolf wrenched Gabriel’s leg. The brawler-turned-repentant let out a horrible scream of primal agony. Blood gushed from the wolf’s mouth as Gabriel’s leg was torn from its hip socket. Only then did death take the wolf and it moved no more.
Lilian and I both gasped and ran for Gabriel.
Lilian took her brother into her arms, laying her healing hands upon him. Pain etched his face, but the bleeding ceased.
“The white stag.” He whispered to her. “Did you see it?”
Lilian turned to me, searching for some answer. “Did you see it?” He repeated.
Lilian shook her head.
“Evora.” She said desperately. “Can you help him?”
I looked down at Gabriel and shook my head.
“This is beyond me.” I sadly replied.
We heard hoof falls. Something was moving through the opaque foliage toward us. Lilian took hold of the hilt of the blade. My fists wrapped around my mace. Branches were brushed aside revealing Talon. Just behind him, leading our horses back to us, was a snow white stag, its massive antlers twisting majestically upwards.
“It seems we have a friend in this forest after all.” Said Talon. “I could not find the horses. This stag tracked them down and led them back to me.”
Lilian and I both heaved a great sigh of relief. Talon looked down at the mutilated Gabriel. He bent over him and shook his head sadly.
“Perhaps Baern and the power of the Green can restore him.” He said.
Lilian and I looked to each other. It was clear we were all thinking, hoping and praying for the same thing.
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Excellent update, indeed.
Chapter 19: Baern's Prison
Thanks for the support!
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Almost in answer to our worried expressions over Gabriel and his mutilated leg, the white stag, this mysterious and helpful spirit of Wiltangle Forest, stamped at the ground with its hooves.
We all turned to it.
I watched in quiet awe as the stag suddenly and effortlessly balanced itself on its hind legs, pushing itself up straight as a man. The two front legs morphed into human arms. The hooves stretched into hands. The legs vanished under the waves of a snow white robe. The majestic antlers sank into its head. The long snout pushed into its face as its white fur gave way to fair flesh. The black, round, doll-like eyes, turned bright blue and their edges pinched down into the shape of almonds.
“Master Baern.” Talon gasped, letting his stoic demeanor evaporate in the presence of the druid. “We bring your apprentice…”
“I know, Talon. I know why you have come.” His voice was like the wind, soft and invigorating if he wished it to be, but it held a wisdom and power that could destroy like a hurricane if riled. He looked down at Gabriel’s mangled body.
“Follow me.” He finally said. “We are not safe here.”
Baern transformed back into the likeness of the white stag. We hoisted Gabriel onto the back of Lilian’s holy steed, Damian, and followed the stag through narrow, barely discernable paths, traveling on foot while pulling the reins of our horses behind us.
Shale’s body, dead now nearly two weeks, remained draped over the back of one of our horses, cocooned in perfumed linens, patiently waiting for Master Baern’s command to rise and return to us.
We followed the white stag for several silent minutes until at last the trees gave way to another clearing. The clearing was bare save for a solitary, tall petrified tree stump. The stag leapt to the stump, then gave a slow look around, its eyes narrowed, its ears erect, its nostrils flared.
At once it relaxed and transformed back into its white-robed human form. I could not help but wonder which form was the true Master Baern, if either. Was he truly human, or was he some spirit of the forest made flesh by the Will of the Green?
He signaled us to join him at the stump. When we closed in, I spotted a gaping, arched hole that had been chiseled out of the stump. Within it, roughly forged stairs of mismatched stones led down into the ground.
“Leave the horses here, but bring Shale’s remains with you.” He told us as he descended the stairs. “The horses will be quite safe here. At least for the time.”
Lilian and Talon helped Gabriel down the stairs. At the base of the stairs was a small room hollowed out of the living earth. Save for a few small tree stumps serving as makeshift chairs, the hovel was entirely deserted. Baern pushed three of the stumps together and signaled to Lilian and Talon to bring Gabriel over. He was gently positioned over them where he could lay.
Great rocky roots created a mesh above us and down the walls on all sides. It was a lonely little hole in the ground, but upon entering, I immediately felt my heart lift. The oppressive bleakness of the forest above disappeared. I felt strangely safe.
Baern sat down on one of the remaining stumps. His shoulders slumped, and he looked suddenly exhausted.
“You could not have come at a worse time.” He said. “Wiltangle is all but lost. Our order has been betrayed and reduced to nothing. I am all that is left and this hole in the ground is my only safe haven. The forest is cursed and I fear I can do nothing for Shale. The implements needed to bring him back have been plundered by a traitor who has taken refuge in desolation. I am sorry. It seems you have come all this way for nothing.”
“Nonsense.” Lilian sharply retorted. “We have been on the trail of the power that ails your forest. We confronted it in the Wildlands and did well, in spite of our limited means, to vanquish its influence for a time. Master Baern, have hope. I and my brother have both been brought back from the dead by the might of Canaan to push back the growing tide of evil that plagues Turgos. Tell us everything that has happened here and we will do what is in our power to make it right.”
Talon and I shared a quick glance. The sudden look of worry broke through the monk’s features. She had just reprimanded a powerful druid, and in his own sanctum as well. But our fretting vanished when we saw Baern’s worn face softly melt into a wide grin.
“Shale spoke of you often, Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan.” He said, standing and moving to her. “He spoke of your resolve and fearlessness. Clearly he was not exaggerating. We may not share a faith, you and I, but we do share hope.” He sighed, shook his head and looked to all of us. Gabriel continued his healing slumber.
“Very well, then.” Baern began. “This is what you are up against. For centuries, a malevolent power has resided in Wiltangle. It is known as The Witch Tree and it was the duty of my order to prevent its evil taint from corrupting the whole of the forest. As you can see, we have failed. A fellow druid, and a once trusted friend, fell to the whispers of the Witch Tree after he was given the duty of watching over it. His name is Gothgul and he handled his fall from the balance with cunning and guile, until he and the Witch Tree together were far too powerful for us to stop. One by one the other members of our order fell to his treachery. The Witch Tree had given Gothgul a boon in exchange for his servitude. She bestowed upon him the curse of lycanthropy, but before the transformation could be complete, Gothgul had to perform a depraved ritual that included the sacrifice of an innocent. That innocent was Tiri, the last of my order besides me to survive Gothgul’s initial onslaught.”
“The woman on the altar.” I muttered, horrified.
“Yes.” Answered Baern heavily. A prolonged silence hung in the air. “Her sacrifice seized the last of Gothgul’s humanity, forever changing him into a werewolf. He has since then cursed the others, some of them were my brothers and sisters in the order, some of them were from other parts of the forest, woodsmen and the like. Good, honest folk viciously conscripted into the Witch Tree’s army of evil. Since then I have been sequestered here. The area is protected by an antipathy enchantment which prevents blood from being spilled within its boundaries. I know that by venturing beyond, I risk death, or worse, and the end my order and Wiltangle Forest.”
“Where is this Gothgul?” Asked Lilian. “We will deal with him.”
“Slaying Gothgul will accomplish little.” Baern said. “What is truly needed is to return what he has stolen, the golden cauldron of purity and the silver sickle. Without them my powers are truncated severely. I cannot harvest enough purified mistletoe to reincarnate Shale and heal the wounds Gothgul and the Witch Tree have made on Wiltangle Forest.”
“What of my brother?” Lilian asked. “His leg was sundered in the battle with the wolves. Do you have the power to restore it?”
Baern only shook his head. “I can do little for him but keep the wound from becoming infected.”
“Gabriel is a gifted healer.” I said. “We will need him with us if we are to successfully complete this task.”
“I can fashion for him a temporary leg.” Baern said. “Little more than a wooden stump, for the time being it will at least steady him enough for him to walk.”
Lilian fought down growing tears. It was unclear and I did not ask her, but I wondered if they were tears of anger for Baern’s limited powers or tears of gratitude for his selfless willingness to do what he could for Gabriel.
Several hours later, Gabriel was up and about. We had left the hovel and returned to the surface. Baern had taken a thick limb from one of the trees and whispered an incantation shaking a small suede bag with leather straps that smelled vaguely like cinnamon over it. When he finished, the wood morphed and reshaped like water into a rounded staff with supports in Gabriel’s groin and around his side. Baern then fastened it to Gabriel’s waist by leather straps salvaged from Shale’s horse’s saddle. Gabriel’s gait was labored and clumsy, but after some time and practice, he settled into a skipping stride that seemed to work quite nicely, though it was clear he was still suffering from fair amount of pain.
Restored as much as we could be, Baern informed us that the Witch Tree is to the south, beyond a wide river. The only means of traversing it is to the East, where we will find a fallen log that serves as a bridge. We were to make use of a worn path through the forest that will lead us to the log.
“Take care to not upset any of the bees.” Baern warned us. “And where you can, refrain from the slaughter of wildlife. The blight brought on by the werewolves has already ravaged enough of Wiltangle. I beg of you to be considerate and mindful of the fragility of my home.”
“I assure you, we shall be most careful.” Talon promised for the rest of us. I was glad of it. Being the sole voice of the Green amongst us, it was fitting that he alone should answer the great druid.
Talon led the way through the narrow eastward path. Lilian and Gabriel took up the middle, while I stayed a step or two behind, keeping my eyes and ears open to any potential dangers. The path was carpeted with dry, dead leaves and clumps of twigs. We made no effort to disguise our steps and doing so would have proved impossible. The bare limbs on either side of us continually threatened to snatch at our cloaks and armor as we passed under them. There was very little sunlight, as gray clouds hovered over the lifeless canopy above us.
It was difficult watching Gabriel attempt to maneuver through the ever thickening quilt of leaves and twigs and lowering archways of sharp branches. At times his sister had to assist him, gently but firmly leading him by her shoulder. The leg stump fashioned by Baern would have been adequate enough had the path been as clear and level as the cobblestone streets of Goldfire Glen, but out in the forest, traversing over uneven earth hidden under ankle deep mounds of leaves, it was proving to be quite a challenge. The thought did creep up that perhaps it would have been best to leave Gabriel in Baern’s protective grove, but I immediately dismissed the uncompassionate idea and prayed to Canaan for patience.
“Hmm.” I heard Talon utter several paces ahead. He had stopped and soon Lilian and Gabriel were right behind him. Turning about I walked backwards, mindful of my surroundings until I felt I was but an inch away from the rest of them.
“What is it?” Lilian asked.
“Most curious.” Talon said, unusually flummoxed. “That clump of mushrooms up ahead.”
“What of it?” Lilian replied. “Is it not natural for mushrooms to grow in forests?”
“Not of that… size, or uniformity.” Talon said. “They almost appear to be, well, dwellings.”
Without warning, whistling pierced the still air. A faint, but forceful rustling gathered around us. I felt something prick my shoulder, stopping just short of breaking the skin.
I turned quickly, mace in hand and raised to strike. My comrades had all fallen, tiny arrows sticking out of the backs of their exposed necks. I reached up and felt the little dart dangling at my shoulder. I grabbed it and pulled it free. Before I could examine it closely, I was surrounded by a cloud a little figures, each emanating a soft, uniquely colorful hue.
They closed in, flitting about me. I could make out roughly humanoid, but delicate bodies. Gossamer wings, fluttering with such speed they were nearly invisible fanned out of their backs. Just as soon as they descended around me, they stopped moving, revealing small bows readied with an arrow each. The tips of the arrows were painted with a green liquid.
I let go of my mace and held up my hands. I had heard of the Fae, of sprites, leprechauns and pixies that haunted secluded sylvan glades, but I had always believed them to be nothing more than fanciful mists of imagination, childhood playmates dreamed up by the lonely. These were no innocent shadows, though. They were quite real, and by the look of my slumbering friends, quite able at defending themselves.
“I mean you no harm.” I said. “We are on an urgent mission for the druid Baern. We mean to cleanse this forest of its taint.”
I heard something dragging along the forest floor. I looked down to see Lilian, Talon and Gabriel, still sound asleep, being dragged off by a hoard of Faean.
“Wait!” I said. “Please! We are here to help!”
Laughter sprinkled down around me. It was not quite malicious or caustic. It held within it a detached playfulness spiced with sincere enthusiasm. One of the glowing creatures, itself held in a sphere of grass green floated down to meet my gaze.
“Stomp! Stomp! Then they chomp! We cannot live where they love to romp!”
The voice was so unimaginably high pitched it took me a moment to realize the thing was speaking. The words were in common, but the rhyming and rhythm were so jarring I looked on, dumbfounded, as I filtered through the words trying to understand. Then it came to me.
“The werewolves!” I gasped. “Yes! They are driving you from your homes.”
“Yes! Yes! Can’t you guess?” He said in response. I thought a moment, then in the spirit of diplomacy, formulated my own clumsy couplet.
“I’m a little at a loss, I must confess.”
There was an eruption of laughter. I felt at once being dragged forward, toward the circle of mushrooms. All around me the creatures were fluttering, diving and looping around each other, cocooning me in a flurry of disorientating hues. I was pushed down to a sitting position on something round and surprisingly soft. I looked down to see it was a massive mushroom. I was surrounded by them, in the heart of what appeared to be a village made up of mushrooms. Little doors and windows had been hollowed out in the stalks of the fungi. More of these creatures bobbed in and out of the tiny homes frenetically. It was by far the most colorful I had seen Wiltangle since entering its withered boundaries.
“I will not cry. I will not yelp.” I began. “But I must try to procure your help.”
Laughter and applause exploded around me. The green glowing fellow floated down in front of me.
“We are pixies. We are Fae. And help comes as help may.” The glow subsided and I could make out the features of his pointed, angular face. It held a smile but masked a worried sadness. “Happiness has a flow and happiness has an ebb. Peas-blossom is sad. His Daisy is stuck in a web. Food will she be, lest ye move like a spinner and free my Daisy before she’s turned into dinner.”
“Spiders have your lady sweet?” I asked. Everyone nodded, but Peas-blossom nodded the most violently. I did not know if it was trick of the glow around him, but I thought I spotted a tear shaped shadow crease his pointy cheek. “Then awake my friends and these spiders we will defeat.”
There was silence. I wondered if I had offended them in some way, or my rhyme did not suit them. Everything I had heard of the Fae led me to conclude that they were prone to fickleness and unpredictability. I readied myself for the worst.
Then another explosion of applause and joyousness. Peas-blossom fluttered up above the others, his arms outstretched.
“An oath made is an oath bound.” He said as the prismatic rabble quieted. “Lead him to where Daisy is sure to be found!”
“Wait! Wait!” I hollered aloud, standing. They all gasped and scattered, save for Peas-blossom who merely turned. I could clearly make out the look of annoying anger wash across his little face. “To complete this task… there’s one thing I must ask… please allow my friends to awaken. If not, then I fear your hope in me is forsaken…”
The words tumbled out like rotten oranges from an upturned barrel, smelly, mashed and covered in white moldy spots.
Peas-blossom’s face turned to the small mound just outside their mushroom village where the other pixies had dragged the comatose Lilian, Gabriel and Talon. Tiny, glowing faces peeked out from the windows in the stalks and around the thick of trees. Peas-blossom turned back to me, a wide, jovial grin spreading over his face.
“No need to shout and get all hoarse.” He said, laughing. “Without a doubt, we’ll wake them up, of course!”
Something stirred within me. My forehead suddenly began to spasm. It was Balian’s Mark. I had not felt it in so many days I almost forgot it was there. It spurned me to ask the pixies one more favor.
“Forgive me, please.” I began, trying to formulate another quick poem. “If you can, with ease, uh… the leg on him, where there is but one, can you make it two? Can it be done?”
The pixies all crowded around Gabriel. They fluttered around his wooden leg, some pulling at it playfully, others just looking it up and down, fingers to their chins.
Peas-blossom suddenly turned to me and smiled. “Have a seat!” He said. “I’ll return with a treat!” And he flew off. I sat on the grassy floor near where Gabriel lay. A second later Peas-blossom had returned, flying erratically in the air while precariously trying to balance a rolled up parchment that was six times the size of his body in both hands. He dropped it into my lap with a sigh.
“Read it slow. Read it right.” He snickered with an air of menace in his high pitched voice. “And his leg will grow where there is now but light.”
I looked down at the scroll with what must have been a shock, for everyone looking on laughed again. They all gathered around me, some tugging at my armor as they settled in on my shoulders and knees. I picked up the scroll, fingers shaking and unrolled it.
It was a regenerate prayer, and I knew all too well, it was beyond my current capabilities. I could read it aloud, but if I misspoke even a single syllable, not only would the prayer be lost, but the divine power held within the scroll could be angered enough at my arrogance and insolence that I could be immolated in a conflagration of retribution, my soul sent instantly to Purgatory to await judgment.
Still, Gabriel had suffered enough. It was by Canaan’s grace that this scroll be given to me. I would not deny Him.
The pixies leaned in, wide-eyed. The anticipation was palpable.
I began to read.
Thanks for the support!
*************************************************************
Almost in answer to our worried expressions over Gabriel and his mutilated leg, the white stag, this mysterious and helpful spirit of Wiltangle Forest, stamped at the ground with its hooves.
We all turned to it.
I watched in quiet awe as the stag suddenly and effortlessly balanced itself on its hind legs, pushing itself up straight as a man. The two front legs morphed into human arms. The hooves stretched into hands. The legs vanished under the waves of a snow white robe. The majestic antlers sank into its head. The long snout pushed into its face as its white fur gave way to fair flesh. The black, round, doll-like eyes, turned bright blue and their edges pinched down into the shape of almonds.
“Master Baern.” Talon gasped, letting his stoic demeanor evaporate in the presence of the druid. “We bring your apprentice…”
“I know, Talon. I know why you have come.” His voice was like the wind, soft and invigorating if he wished it to be, but it held a wisdom and power that could destroy like a hurricane if riled. He looked down at Gabriel’s mangled body.
“Follow me.” He finally said. “We are not safe here.”
Baern transformed back into the likeness of the white stag. We hoisted Gabriel onto the back of Lilian’s holy steed, Damian, and followed the stag through narrow, barely discernable paths, traveling on foot while pulling the reins of our horses behind us.
Shale’s body, dead now nearly two weeks, remained draped over the back of one of our horses, cocooned in perfumed linens, patiently waiting for Master Baern’s command to rise and return to us.
We followed the white stag for several silent minutes until at last the trees gave way to another clearing. The clearing was bare save for a solitary, tall petrified tree stump. The stag leapt to the stump, then gave a slow look around, its eyes narrowed, its ears erect, its nostrils flared.
At once it relaxed and transformed back into its white-robed human form. I could not help but wonder which form was the true Master Baern, if either. Was he truly human, or was he some spirit of the forest made flesh by the Will of the Green?
He signaled us to join him at the stump. When we closed in, I spotted a gaping, arched hole that had been chiseled out of the stump. Within it, roughly forged stairs of mismatched stones led down into the ground.
“Leave the horses here, but bring Shale’s remains with you.” He told us as he descended the stairs. “The horses will be quite safe here. At least for the time.”
Lilian and Talon helped Gabriel down the stairs. At the base of the stairs was a small room hollowed out of the living earth. Save for a few small tree stumps serving as makeshift chairs, the hovel was entirely deserted. Baern pushed three of the stumps together and signaled to Lilian and Talon to bring Gabriel over. He was gently positioned over them where he could lay.
Great rocky roots created a mesh above us and down the walls on all sides. It was a lonely little hole in the ground, but upon entering, I immediately felt my heart lift. The oppressive bleakness of the forest above disappeared. I felt strangely safe.
Baern sat down on one of the remaining stumps. His shoulders slumped, and he looked suddenly exhausted.
“You could not have come at a worse time.” He said. “Wiltangle is all but lost. Our order has been betrayed and reduced to nothing. I am all that is left and this hole in the ground is my only safe haven. The forest is cursed and I fear I can do nothing for Shale. The implements needed to bring him back have been plundered by a traitor who has taken refuge in desolation. I am sorry. It seems you have come all this way for nothing.”
“Nonsense.” Lilian sharply retorted. “We have been on the trail of the power that ails your forest. We confronted it in the Wildlands and did well, in spite of our limited means, to vanquish its influence for a time. Master Baern, have hope. I and my brother have both been brought back from the dead by the might of Canaan to push back the growing tide of evil that plagues Turgos. Tell us everything that has happened here and we will do what is in our power to make it right.”
Talon and I shared a quick glance. The sudden look of worry broke through the monk’s features. She had just reprimanded a powerful druid, and in his own sanctum as well. But our fretting vanished when we saw Baern’s worn face softly melt into a wide grin.
“Shale spoke of you often, Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan.” He said, standing and moving to her. “He spoke of your resolve and fearlessness. Clearly he was not exaggerating. We may not share a faith, you and I, but we do share hope.” He sighed, shook his head and looked to all of us. Gabriel continued his healing slumber.
“Very well, then.” Baern began. “This is what you are up against. For centuries, a malevolent power has resided in Wiltangle. It is known as The Witch Tree and it was the duty of my order to prevent its evil taint from corrupting the whole of the forest. As you can see, we have failed. A fellow druid, and a once trusted friend, fell to the whispers of the Witch Tree after he was given the duty of watching over it. His name is Gothgul and he handled his fall from the balance with cunning and guile, until he and the Witch Tree together were far too powerful for us to stop. One by one the other members of our order fell to his treachery. The Witch Tree had given Gothgul a boon in exchange for his servitude. She bestowed upon him the curse of lycanthropy, but before the transformation could be complete, Gothgul had to perform a depraved ritual that included the sacrifice of an innocent. That innocent was Tiri, the last of my order besides me to survive Gothgul’s initial onslaught.”
“The woman on the altar.” I muttered, horrified.
“Yes.” Answered Baern heavily. A prolonged silence hung in the air. “Her sacrifice seized the last of Gothgul’s humanity, forever changing him into a werewolf. He has since then cursed the others, some of them were my brothers and sisters in the order, some of them were from other parts of the forest, woodsmen and the like. Good, honest folk viciously conscripted into the Witch Tree’s army of evil. Since then I have been sequestered here. The area is protected by an antipathy enchantment which prevents blood from being spilled within its boundaries. I know that by venturing beyond, I risk death, or worse, and the end my order and Wiltangle Forest.”
“Where is this Gothgul?” Asked Lilian. “We will deal with him.”
“Slaying Gothgul will accomplish little.” Baern said. “What is truly needed is to return what he has stolen, the golden cauldron of purity and the silver sickle. Without them my powers are truncated severely. I cannot harvest enough purified mistletoe to reincarnate Shale and heal the wounds Gothgul and the Witch Tree have made on Wiltangle Forest.”
“What of my brother?” Lilian asked. “His leg was sundered in the battle with the wolves. Do you have the power to restore it?”
Baern only shook his head. “I can do little for him but keep the wound from becoming infected.”
“Gabriel is a gifted healer.” I said. “We will need him with us if we are to successfully complete this task.”
“I can fashion for him a temporary leg.” Baern said. “Little more than a wooden stump, for the time being it will at least steady him enough for him to walk.”
Lilian fought down growing tears. It was unclear and I did not ask her, but I wondered if they were tears of anger for Baern’s limited powers or tears of gratitude for his selfless willingness to do what he could for Gabriel.
Several hours later, Gabriel was up and about. We had left the hovel and returned to the surface. Baern had taken a thick limb from one of the trees and whispered an incantation shaking a small suede bag with leather straps that smelled vaguely like cinnamon over it. When he finished, the wood morphed and reshaped like water into a rounded staff with supports in Gabriel’s groin and around his side. Baern then fastened it to Gabriel’s waist by leather straps salvaged from Shale’s horse’s saddle. Gabriel’s gait was labored and clumsy, but after some time and practice, he settled into a skipping stride that seemed to work quite nicely, though it was clear he was still suffering from fair amount of pain.
Restored as much as we could be, Baern informed us that the Witch Tree is to the south, beyond a wide river. The only means of traversing it is to the East, where we will find a fallen log that serves as a bridge. We were to make use of a worn path through the forest that will lead us to the log.
“Take care to not upset any of the bees.” Baern warned us. “And where you can, refrain from the slaughter of wildlife. The blight brought on by the werewolves has already ravaged enough of Wiltangle. I beg of you to be considerate and mindful of the fragility of my home.”
“I assure you, we shall be most careful.” Talon promised for the rest of us. I was glad of it. Being the sole voice of the Green amongst us, it was fitting that he alone should answer the great druid.
Talon led the way through the narrow eastward path. Lilian and Gabriel took up the middle, while I stayed a step or two behind, keeping my eyes and ears open to any potential dangers. The path was carpeted with dry, dead leaves and clumps of twigs. We made no effort to disguise our steps and doing so would have proved impossible. The bare limbs on either side of us continually threatened to snatch at our cloaks and armor as we passed under them. There was very little sunlight, as gray clouds hovered over the lifeless canopy above us.
It was difficult watching Gabriel attempt to maneuver through the ever thickening quilt of leaves and twigs and lowering archways of sharp branches. At times his sister had to assist him, gently but firmly leading him by her shoulder. The leg stump fashioned by Baern would have been adequate enough had the path been as clear and level as the cobblestone streets of Goldfire Glen, but out in the forest, traversing over uneven earth hidden under ankle deep mounds of leaves, it was proving to be quite a challenge. The thought did creep up that perhaps it would have been best to leave Gabriel in Baern’s protective grove, but I immediately dismissed the uncompassionate idea and prayed to Canaan for patience.
“Hmm.” I heard Talon utter several paces ahead. He had stopped and soon Lilian and Gabriel were right behind him. Turning about I walked backwards, mindful of my surroundings until I felt I was but an inch away from the rest of them.
“What is it?” Lilian asked.
“Most curious.” Talon said, unusually flummoxed. “That clump of mushrooms up ahead.”
“What of it?” Lilian replied. “Is it not natural for mushrooms to grow in forests?”
“Not of that… size, or uniformity.” Talon said. “They almost appear to be, well, dwellings.”
Without warning, whistling pierced the still air. A faint, but forceful rustling gathered around us. I felt something prick my shoulder, stopping just short of breaking the skin.
I turned quickly, mace in hand and raised to strike. My comrades had all fallen, tiny arrows sticking out of the backs of their exposed necks. I reached up and felt the little dart dangling at my shoulder. I grabbed it and pulled it free. Before I could examine it closely, I was surrounded by a cloud a little figures, each emanating a soft, uniquely colorful hue.
They closed in, flitting about me. I could make out roughly humanoid, but delicate bodies. Gossamer wings, fluttering with such speed they were nearly invisible fanned out of their backs. Just as soon as they descended around me, they stopped moving, revealing small bows readied with an arrow each. The tips of the arrows were painted with a green liquid.
I let go of my mace and held up my hands. I had heard of the Fae, of sprites, leprechauns and pixies that haunted secluded sylvan glades, but I had always believed them to be nothing more than fanciful mists of imagination, childhood playmates dreamed up by the lonely. These were no innocent shadows, though. They were quite real, and by the look of my slumbering friends, quite able at defending themselves.
“I mean you no harm.” I said. “We are on an urgent mission for the druid Baern. We mean to cleanse this forest of its taint.”
I heard something dragging along the forest floor. I looked down to see Lilian, Talon and Gabriel, still sound asleep, being dragged off by a hoard of Faean.
“Wait!” I said. “Please! We are here to help!”
Laughter sprinkled down around me. It was not quite malicious or caustic. It held within it a detached playfulness spiced with sincere enthusiasm. One of the glowing creatures, itself held in a sphere of grass green floated down to meet my gaze.
“Stomp! Stomp! Then they chomp! We cannot live where they love to romp!”
The voice was so unimaginably high pitched it took me a moment to realize the thing was speaking. The words were in common, but the rhyming and rhythm were so jarring I looked on, dumbfounded, as I filtered through the words trying to understand. Then it came to me.
“The werewolves!” I gasped. “Yes! They are driving you from your homes.”
“Yes! Yes! Can’t you guess?” He said in response. I thought a moment, then in the spirit of diplomacy, formulated my own clumsy couplet.
“I’m a little at a loss, I must confess.”
There was an eruption of laughter. I felt at once being dragged forward, toward the circle of mushrooms. All around me the creatures were fluttering, diving and looping around each other, cocooning me in a flurry of disorientating hues. I was pushed down to a sitting position on something round and surprisingly soft. I looked down to see it was a massive mushroom. I was surrounded by them, in the heart of what appeared to be a village made up of mushrooms. Little doors and windows had been hollowed out in the stalks of the fungi. More of these creatures bobbed in and out of the tiny homes frenetically. It was by far the most colorful I had seen Wiltangle since entering its withered boundaries.
“I will not cry. I will not yelp.” I began. “But I must try to procure your help.”
Laughter and applause exploded around me. The green glowing fellow floated down in front of me.
“We are pixies. We are Fae. And help comes as help may.” The glow subsided and I could make out the features of his pointed, angular face. It held a smile but masked a worried sadness. “Happiness has a flow and happiness has an ebb. Peas-blossom is sad. His Daisy is stuck in a web. Food will she be, lest ye move like a spinner and free my Daisy before she’s turned into dinner.”
“Spiders have your lady sweet?” I asked. Everyone nodded, but Peas-blossom nodded the most violently. I did not know if it was trick of the glow around him, but I thought I spotted a tear shaped shadow crease his pointy cheek. “Then awake my friends and these spiders we will defeat.”
There was silence. I wondered if I had offended them in some way, or my rhyme did not suit them. Everything I had heard of the Fae led me to conclude that they were prone to fickleness and unpredictability. I readied myself for the worst.
Then another explosion of applause and joyousness. Peas-blossom fluttered up above the others, his arms outstretched.
“An oath made is an oath bound.” He said as the prismatic rabble quieted. “Lead him to where Daisy is sure to be found!”
“Wait! Wait!” I hollered aloud, standing. They all gasped and scattered, save for Peas-blossom who merely turned. I could clearly make out the look of annoying anger wash across his little face. “To complete this task… there’s one thing I must ask… please allow my friends to awaken. If not, then I fear your hope in me is forsaken…”
The words tumbled out like rotten oranges from an upturned barrel, smelly, mashed and covered in white moldy spots.
Peas-blossom’s face turned to the small mound just outside their mushroom village where the other pixies had dragged the comatose Lilian, Gabriel and Talon. Tiny, glowing faces peeked out from the windows in the stalks and around the thick of trees. Peas-blossom turned back to me, a wide, jovial grin spreading over his face.
“No need to shout and get all hoarse.” He said, laughing. “Without a doubt, we’ll wake them up, of course!”
Something stirred within me. My forehead suddenly began to spasm. It was Balian’s Mark. I had not felt it in so many days I almost forgot it was there. It spurned me to ask the pixies one more favor.
“Forgive me, please.” I began, trying to formulate another quick poem. “If you can, with ease, uh… the leg on him, where there is but one, can you make it two? Can it be done?”
The pixies all crowded around Gabriel. They fluttered around his wooden leg, some pulling at it playfully, others just looking it up and down, fingers to their chins.
Peas-blossom suddenly turned to me and smiled. “Have a seat!” He said. “I’ll return with a treat!” And he flew off. I sat on the grassy floor near where Gabriel lay. A second later Peas-blossom had returned, flying erratically in the air while precariously trying to balance a rolled up parchment that was six times the size of his body in both hands. He dropped it into my lap with a sigh.
“Read it slow. Read it right.” He snickered with an air of menace in his high pitched voice. “And his leg will grow where there is now but light.”
I looked down at the scroll with what must have been a shock, for everyone looking on laughed again. They all gathered around me, some tugging at my armor as they settled in on my shoulders and knees. I picked up the scroll, fingers shaking and unrolled it.
It was a regenerate prayer, and I knew all too well, it was beyond my current capabilities. I could read it aloud, but if I misspoke even a single syllable, not only would the prayer be lost, but the divine power held within the scroll could be angered enough at my arrogance and insolence that I could be immolated in a conflagration of retribution, my soul sent instantly to Purgatory to await judgment.
Still, Gabriel had suffered enough. It was by Canaan’s grace that this scroll be given to me. I would not deny Him.
The pixies leaned in, wide-eyed. The anticipation was palpable.
I began to read.
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Excellent update. And extra congratulations if the rhyming exchange was genuinely RP'd "live" (even if it did rather remind me of a particularly bad Rupert Bear episode).
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:Excellent update. And extra congratulations if the rhyming exchange was genuinely RP'd "live" (even if it did rather remind me of a particularly bad Rupert Bear episode).
Heheh, they were indead RP'd live. It was a hoot! The pixies were, by far, my favorite scene of this session. And they make a reappearance much later in the story hour.
D'nemy and I have been working hard to get this storyhour updated. I'm working from current sessions, backwards. And he is working from the beginning, forward. That way we can get this to a point where we have all the material written.
Expect an update Mondayish.
Is Shieldhaven still tuning in?
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