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War of the Burning Sky (updated 24th May)
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<blockquote data-quote="amethal" data-source="post: 3838109" data-attributes="member: 22784"><p>Gwenvere’s lair is on the other side of the lake. There is a pool, an island, and a cave in the bank. Someone has made an effort to make this area as attractive as possible under the circumstances.</p><p></p><p>The party call out to attract the nymph’s attention. At first nothing appears, but then the mention of the dryad Timbre causes a stirring in the murky water. A hideous face appears, and the party take an involuntary step backwards. Nymphs are famous for their beauty, but Gwenvere is very much the exception to this rule.</p><p></p><p>“Greetings, Gwenvere,” says Solsus. “We seek a favour from you.”</p><p></p><p>“Not interested in doing favours,” snarls Gwenvere.</p><p></p><p>“This would give you a chance to get back at your old rival, Timbre,” says Solsus. “We need to gain access to her grove, and we understand you can supply us with the lock of Anyariel’s hair which will enable us to do so.”</p><p></p><p>“Not got hair. It is in the shrine,” says Gwenvere, but she is clearly lying to cover up her theft.</p><p></p><p>“If you did happen to have a lock,” says Jonathan, “we’d only need to borrow it for a little while, until we’d concluded our <ahem> business with the dryad. We’d return it to you straight away, and no one would ever know you have it.”</p><p></p><p>“What sort of business?”</p><p></p><p>“We have come up with a way to put the dryad out of her misery,” says Jonathan.</p><p></p><p>“I like the sound of that,” says Gwenvere. “Do you like what I’ve done with the pool? I try to keep it looking as nice as possible, but its very difficult, with the fire and all. Without me this place would go to ruin.”</p><p></p><p>“I’m sure it would,” says Caryk. “You’ve done a very good job. May we have the lock of hair please?”</p><p></p><p>The nymph stares at him for a moment, then dives back down under the water. A few minutes later she returns with a strand of golden hair several feet long, and lays it at Caryk’s feet.</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>Scene 3</strong></p><p><em>Timbre’s Grove, Fire Forest</em></p><p><em>January 8th, 9 am</em></p><p></p><p>Timbre’s grove is on a hill. There’s a burning oak at the summit of the hill, which bears a distinct similarity to the tree sculpture on top of Anyariel’s shrine. There’s no sign of the dryad, but two large, fiery boars are lurking near the tree. There is something primeval about their appearance; they have odd spikes and spurs of bone jutting out of their backs, and being constantly on fire has not improved their already bad tempers.</p><p></p><p>The boars paw the ground, and get ready to charge the intruders.</p><p></p><p>“Timbre,” calls out Caryk, “we have something for you.”</p><p></p><p>“A lock of Anyariel’s hair,” he calls out hurriedly, as the boars start to hurtle down the hillside towards him.</p><p></p><p>What had previously appeared to be burning tree roots untangles itself from the base of the tree, and peers at Caryk. It is the dryad, Timbre. She calls out a sharp word in sylvan, and the boars slither to a halt inches from the party.</p><p></p><p>“Approach my tree,” says Timbre, “and show me the lock.” She dismisses the boars, and they wander away. “Are you thieves, to steal it from her shrine?”</p><p></p><p>“It wasn’t us, it was Gwenvere,” says Jonathan, trying to gauge when the boars will be far enough away to leave the dryad unprotected. “We borrowed it from her, as a means of getting your attention.”</p><p></p><p>The dryad looks at the lock of hair, and then sighs. “It reminds me of happier days. Take it away.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you know of any way to save the seela and the forest?” asks Solsus. Jonathan gives him a puzzled look. No one had said anything about saving the seela.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="amethal, post: 3838109, member: 22784"] Gwenvere’s lair is on the other side of the lake. There is a pool, an island, and a cave in the bank. Someone has made an effort to make this area as attractive as possible under the circumstances. The party call out to attract the nymph’s attention. At first nothing appears, but then the mention of the dryad Timbre causes a stirring in the murky water. A hideous face appears, and the party take an involuntary step backwards. Nymphs are famous for their beauty, but Gwenvere is very much the exception to this rule. “Greetings, Gwenvere,” says Solsus. “We seek a favour from you.” “Not interested in doing favours,” snarls Gwenvere. “This would give you a chance to get back at your old rival, Timbre,” says Solsus. “We need to gain access to her grove, and we understand you can supply us with the lock of Anyariel’s hair which will enable us to do so.” “Not got hair. It is in the shrine,” says Gwenvere, but she is clearly lying to cover up her theft. “If you did happen to have a lock,” says Jonathan, “we’d only need to borrow it for a little while, until we’d concluded our <ahem> business with the dryad. We’d return it to you straight away, and no one would ever know you have it.” “What sort of business?” “We have come up with a way to put the dryad out of her misery,” says Jonathan. “I like the sound of that,” says Gwenvere. “Do you like what I’ve done with the pool? I try to keep it looking as nice as possible, but its very difficult, with the fire and all. Without me this place would go to ruin.” “I’m sure it would,” says Caryk. “You’ve done a very good job. May we have the lock of hair please?” The nymph stares at him for a moment, then dives back down under the water. A few minutes later she returns with a strand of golden hair several feet long, and lays it at Caryk’s feet. [B]Scene 3[/B] [I]Timbre’s Grove, Fire Forest January 8th, 9 am[/I] Timbre’s grove is on a hill. There’s a burning oak at the summit of the hill, which bears a distinct similarity to the tree sculpture on top of Anyariel’s shrine. There’s no sign of the dryad, but two large, fiery boars are lurking near the tree. There is something primeval about their appearance; they have odd spikes and spurs of bone jutting out of their backs, and being constantly on fire has not improved their already bad tempers. The boars paw the ground, and get ready to charge the intruders. “Timbre,” calls out Caryk, “we have something for you.” “A lock of Anyariel’s hair,” he calls out hurriedly, as the boars start to hurtle down the hillside towards him. What had previously appeared to be burning tree roots untangles itself from the base of the tree, and peers at Caryk. It is the dryad, Timbre. She calls out a sharp word in sylvan, and the boars slither to a halt inches from the party. “Approach my tree,” says Timbre, “and show me the lock.” She dismisses the boars, and they wander away. “Are you thieves, to steal it from her shrine?” “It wasn’t us, it was Gwenvere,” says Jonathan, trying to gauge when the boars will be far enough away to leave the dryad unprotected. “We borrowed it from her, as a means of getting your attention.” The dryad looks at the lock of hair, and then sighs. “It reminds me of happier days. Take it away.” “Do you know of any way to save the seela and the forest?” asks Solsus. Jonathan gives him a puzzled look. No one had said anything about saving the seela. [/QUOTE]
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