The Story of The Stave: Chapter one

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Kibrani had composed herself by the time Glamrod and Third returned. The big warrior hauled Callain across his shoulders and they ran back to the others.

“Quickly, now,” Glamrod barked. “Something stopped them from following us, but I don’t know for how long.” He described the humming, glowing tent to Sadi and Illith’Hen as Lefkl worked a quick healing spell.

They marched all day, pushing the pace as fast as possible, fearing that no distance between them and the goblins could be enough. By nightfall they had cleared the trees and were halfway across a gently rolling plain; they made camp in a small hollow between two hills. As Lefkl worked more on Callain, Myrara sat down next to Kibrani.

“So, is Fate pleased with me, or have I stuck my foot in it again?”

The other girl shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. I can sometimes See what is, and sometimes what may be. Nothing is locked in place; there’s no one making judgments – except ourselves. What happens next is entirely up to us.” She stared into Kibrani’s eyes for a long moment, then asked softly, “Do you really want to know?”

Kibrani sighed. “It’s probably better that I don’t.”

“Sleep,” Myrara said, touching Kibrani’s arm. “I’ll take watch.”

Kibrani’s dream began almost before she fell asleep. She was in the midst of a large party. A robed figure was leading a group of musicians. She had to cross the dance floor to reach the magnificent banquet, but she couldn’t follow the steps and kept getting pushed back by the dancers. Where the others seemed to hear a waltz, all Kibrani could hear was a disorganized cacophony of sounds. The robed figure turned towards her and she realized that Fate was playing the song of her life.

Then a new musician appeared, a harper with his back to her. His simple melodic line was overwhelmed by the other instruments at first but he resolutely kept on playing. Gradually, the tune became the center of the song as the other players took up the line, supporting the melody and adding layers of harmony. The music stirred her soul as nothing ever had before and she stood still, letting it wash over and through her. When the song could sustain itself, the harper left the stage and crossed to her, took her hand, and pulled her into the dance. The shadows fell away from his face and she saw Callain. They danced as though there was no one else in the room. The music was theirs alone and they moved smoothly together as the song dipped and soared.

Gradually, Kibrani realized that she was no longer dreaming, that she really could feel Callain’s warm breath against her neck, his hands on her skin, his thighs pressed against hers. She gladly accepted what he offered, took his gift and gave a full measure in return. Fate’s song still rang in her ears. It built in a towering crescendo and threatened to overwhelm her, but just before she would collapse under its weight it crumbled and fell away, leaving behind only the simple, sweet sound of the harp. That gentle sound filled her soul and she fell into a restful, dreamless slumber.

Across the camp, Myrara hummed to herself. It was a simple yet compelling melody, and had come into her head from nowhere. Elsewhere, Fate smiled.

 

"So," said the Third, "a man of magic."

Lefkl nodded. The three knights and the sorcerer sat, legs folded, inside the camp.

The First tossed a handful of twigs into the small fire. He stared at the dancing flames. "Then you must know the potential of this Stave."

"Maybe. What's it to you?"

The Second shrugged. "Who wouldn't be interested in something like that?"

"Hmph. Who would be willing to take the risks asssociated with it?"

"Us," the Third spat, "We're well-armed and well-trained."

Lefkl said nothing. The fire noisily devoured the twigs. It crackled and flickered. All four stared at it. The sorcerer scooped a handful of dust from the dirt into his hand, and tossed it inot the fire. The flames swished to green to blue to purple to red-orange again.

"What do you do?" he said, brushing the remnants of dust from his hand.

The First kept silent. His hand slowly inched for his sword. Lefkl watched him, eyes narrowing, staring at him across the fire. The Third watched neither of them, but fed the fire a branch.

Quick as a cat pouncing, the First unsheathed his sword and leapt at Lefkl. The sorcerer tumbled to his right, but the First's sword was faster. It plunged into Lefkl's belly. Blood trickled out from all directions. The sorcerer coughed up blood.

"I think you know well enough what we do. We slay the unnatural. The Affronts like the Stave will be purged from this world, back to the darkness where they came from."

Lefkl's eyes rolled up, then back. He muttered something with his dying breath. It sounded like the fire, crackling and hissing. He then slumped to the ground. The First took his sword from his body.

A great being of flame, a great serpent of fire and ashes rose from fire. The First screamed as the Serpent bit into his neck, setting his hair, then skin, then eyes on fire.

He too spoke his last words.

"Brothers, destroy it. If not for the world, then for me."

Fire consumed the tent, and the Second and Third retreated.

 

Callain woke with Kibrani curled in his arms like a child's favorite toy. He paused a moment to admire the feeling of her nestled against his chest. Then, with utmost care, he rearranged her on the ground and stood. The scabs on his back pulled, and he winced. The pain caused his hands to clench involuntarily, and the wounds on his wrists screamed in protest. Callain gasped, cradling his hands against himself.

Immediately, Myrara was there, sympathy in her eyes. she touched Callain lightly on the shoulder and wrist. Coolness spread from her touch, and Callain hissed in relief.
"thank you," he said simply. Myrara considered him a moment, eyes unreadable. Then she said softly, "Wash the left wrist well, and bandage it with clean linen. The skin is a touch too warm for comfort."
She glanced back at Kibrani and the ghost of a smile flitted across her face, "If I were you, I'd not risk wound-fever and facing her wrath."
Callain looked back at Kibrani and felt a grin pull at his lips, "she'd give me a stern telling-off if I took wound-fever."

 

Illith'Hen and Sadi were both anxious to be under way, if for different reasons. While Sadi could almost feel Drogul's army at his heels, Illith'Hen felt the pressure of the stave in his mind, urging him onward. He paced impatiently, waiting for the others to be ready.

"Where's Lefkl?" he asked, frowning, when the old man didn't appear. He looked around the camp. "And First?"

"Gone," Second replied shortly. Neither he nor Third made any attempt to explain the destroyed tent.

Myrara's eyes unfocused and she spoke in a flat voice. "They too follow the path of flame, but we'll not meet them again on our road."

When they set out the leading edge of the sun had barely cleared the horizon and there was no sign of pursuit from the goblins, yet Illith'Hen pushed the pace to make up time he felt was irrevocably lost.

The hadn't been underway for long before they noticed that the hills became nore gentle and the fields of grass and wildflowers gave way to cultivated rows of grain. Illith'Hen scouted out traces of a roadand the going became easier. Soon there was evidence of a good-sized town several hours ahead.

[ July 20, 2003, 14:51: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

ooC: Rallymama, saw your whine in the Random Babbling post

By the eve of that day the party had reached and entered the town. Sleep had been scarce, with the threat of the goblins ever present in their minds, and as the party piled into the first inn that they saw it must have made a most unusual sight to the innkeeper perched on a stool behind a bar.

“What’s all this? A group of weary travellers if I’m any judge” the barman spoke as he stood to greet the party “You look like you’re all asleep on your feet as it is, and so I be expecting you be wanting some rooms to kip?” he continued. Illith’Hen stepped forward “Aye. Your best rooms, the very best”. “All of the rooms here are of the best quality, nothing less would we offer our exclusive clientele” this last part was said in spite of all the evidence his eyes were providing about his customers “so if you’d just follow me this- WHAT THE HELL’S THAT?!?”. Myara and her stag had just entered, “he is Kale'panir, my guide” she said softly.

“Yes but what is it?” the barman wasn’t satisfied with Myara’s explanation. “He, not it. He is a stag”. Muttering under his breath the barman paused to consider this, stag’s weren’t something he often came across and he was dammed if he’d have one ****ting all over his floors. He reached a decision, “Well you can stay here, but that ‘stag’, if that’s what it be, can sleep in the stables, or outside. Wherever, just not in here.”

As he lead them up to their rooms Illith’Hen felt a prickling on the back of his neck that tingled down to the base of his spine. He spun round but the only people behind him were the Second and Third. He turned back having made a quick apology about hearing something. They just nodded and retired to their respective rooms. As Illith’Hen stood alone in the corridor he shivered, yet there was not a trace of coldness in the air. Inside his room he made sure his weapons were close at hand and lay down to sleep.

 

Not only was the next day market-day in the town, there seemed to be some kind of festival happening, as well. How else to explain the parade of people dressed as halflings and carrying buckets? They stayed together through breakfast (“I do hope you two managed to get some rest,” Sadi said archly as Kibrani and Callain emerged from their separate room. All he got in response was fluttered eyelashes from her and a raised eyebrow from him) then went their separate ways, Second and Third heading toward the soldiers’garrison on the edge of town; Kibrani taking Myrara’s hand and dragging her, eyes shining, into the thick of the market stalls; Sadi, Illith’Hen, and Glamrod drifting away in search of supplies and news of Aeroth.

That left Callain. Shopping was a chore to him so he didn’t waste much time in replenishing his pack before he started to look for a tavern. Old habits being hard to suppress, he gravitated towards a different end of the town and soon found a dingy bar that was small enough to provide every table with a good share of shadows. He collected a mug of beer from the tired-looking wench and found a seat against one wall.

Loose tongues didn’t last long in a place like there so there wasn’t much news to be had. He picked up a few snippets of local gossip and felt a moment’s sympathy for the intended victim of a clumsy robbery plot being hatched a few tables away. A small number of people came people came in, singly and in twos or threes, none seeming to pay him more than passing attention. Most were tired-looking men in dusty clothes, obviously seeking respite from the marketplace. Several passed through a door next to the bar; when it opened, Callain could hear the rattle of dice.

“I was wondering if you might be able to help me.” Callain looked up sharply. A tall hooded figure stood next to his table; the voice was low but unmistakably feminine. He was sure this woman hadn’t entered by the front door, and aside from the door to the gambling room he had seen no others. He nodded for her to sit. She did so gracefully before continuing. “I’m trying to arrange a hunting trip as a surprise for my husband, and I need to engage a guide.”

The odd request raised Callain’s suspicions. “What’s the quarry?”

“I hear that the Black Eagle can be found around here.”

Outwardly, Callain didn’t betray the knot that suddenly gripped his stomach. Black Eagle was his working name and he had hoped not to hear it again. He raised his eyebrows and looked towards the woman, whose face was still hidden within her hood. “Really? That’s news to me. I’m usually after game that will feed the family, after all.”

“My mistake,” she murmured. “I was assured that you were quite familiar with this creature.” Callain knew better than to ask who had directed her to him. “Perhaps you know of someone else who could help me?”

“Sorry, no, but I wish you luck in finding the guide you need.” He turned back to his mug, ending the conversation. The woman stood and looked at him briefly before moving away from the table and out into the street. She didn’t so much as glance at anyone else in the place.

So, she’s trying to find someone to kill her husband, eh? Too bad there’s no way to let the poor bastard know. But why come to me? Why here? He was sure that he had never been in this town before, but there was no way to tell how far his reputation had traveled. It would apparently take some time for word to get around that he had left the murder-for-hire game – if he would be allowed to do so at all.

Not wanting to repeat the encounter, Callain left to try and find the others in the marketplace.

 

Kibrani looked over the daggers with barely concealed disgust. She flipped one in her hand, feeling how unbalanced it was, and set it down on the merchant's counter. The next dagger was balanced better, but when she used the edge of a ring she wore to scrape the blade, it left a scratch. 'Such shoddy workmanship,' she thought, 'weak metal, unbalanced blades... they're no better than ornamental daggers, and those look better.'
She turned away from the stall in disappointment. It took but a second to locate Myrara, who was at the time looking a hardwood staff over. It was a nice piece of work, Kibrani thought, polished and finished with a globe of emerald set into the top. 'Trust Myrara to find the best artisan in the town,' Kibrani thought pessimistically, 'I wonder if they have daggers, too.' She started to move towards the stall, but a hand closed around her elbow.
"Thief!" Screeched the thin, sallow merchant whose wares Kibrani had just looked over.
"Thief! Don't try to deny it! I know your look! Now, return that dagger or pay for it!"

Kibrani looked coldly at him, then at his hand on her arm. She sniffed, "Unhand me."

"Not till you pay for that dagger!" He cried. People were stopping to watch now, and Kibrani heard the familiar roar of anger starting in her ears. Her dagger, well-made and lethal, appeared in her hand.

"I said , unhand me." Kibrani's eyes were cold, and the man leapt back.

"Witch!" He screeched, "To threaten me with a drawn blade! I have the town's protection!"

"I don't care if you have the Crown's protection. I demand you release me, for i have don't nothing! Your wares are not even fit for theft! They are worthless!"

The man was slowly turning a blotchy red-purple. His eyes riveted on the blade Kibrani held, he yelled a name. Out of the shadows beside his stall emerged a tall and muscular guard. A mercenary, Kibrani realized, as she took sight of the man's blank shield. He carried two long knives, and had a small hatchet shoved into his belt. Kibrani's eyes narrowed in exasperation. this one will be difficult to overcome. She pulled a second dagger from its sheath at her waist. With one dagger held in an overhand grip, and the other in an underhand grip, she crouched into a fighting stance.

The man charged her, bellowing insults to her immediate family. 'Too bad they're all already dead,' Kibrani thought grimly, as she twisted to the side, slashing as she did. Her knife caught on something, his rough leather armor, and ripped through as she put her weight into the cut. The man, enraged, clocked her on the head. Kibrani blinked and shook the disorientation away.

As the mercenary and Kibrani circled each other, looking for openings, Kibrani heard the merchant shouting again. There was a flurry of movement in the corner of Kibrani's eye as the mercenary stepped in again. She dropped and rolled away, coming up to face the mercenary, and now two of the town's guards. She rocked on her feet, unsure.

One of the guards dropped as a thick, polished piece of wood collided with his head. Myrara stood poised, as the remaining two men shifted their attention to her. Kibrani took the opening and leapt. The big mercenary half-turned before her blow fell on him. He reeled back, clutching his throat. Kibrani turned from him, just in time to see several more guards running towards them. One was nearly at Myrara's back when she turned and gave him an angry silver glare. He crumpled over, blood at his lips. Kibrani's stomach churned. Myrara had just killed him without even touching him.

 

There was only a moment's confusion but Kibrani used it to grab Myrara's hand and bolt away through the market. One of the guards gave chase, but they managed to elude him. A glimpse of the halfling-parade gave Kibrani an idea and she dodged into a stall where fabrics and clothing were sold.

"Nice trick," she said admiringly, looking up from the fabrics. "Something tells me you can't teach it to me, though."

Myrara had slumped to the ground. "I don't know..." she said, stunned. "That's never happened before, not like that."

"Hey," said Kibrani urgently, kneeling and forcing Myrara to meet her gaze. "We'll figure it out later, okay? For now, do you trust me to get us out of here?" At Myrara's nod, she returned to the counter. With the vendor's help, she quickly purchased two long skirts and loose blouses. The clothes hid their traveling garb, but Myrara's silver hair was still a problem. Even a blue shawl wasn't enough concealment until Kibrani shook down her own hair and handed over the carved pins.

"That'll have to do," she said critically, combing her fingers through the curtain of honey-brown hair that fell to her hips. She cocked an elbow towards Myrara. "Smile and try to look foolish - we're about to join the parade!"

[ July 24, 2003, 05:01: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

Well people, I'm going to disappear into the mists of the Appalachian Mountains for a week. So this is the last of me you'll see (read?) for about seven/eight days. Bye!

 

Who in the heavens name is this Aeroth? I cant seem to find himanywhere in this topic.
Rallymama, want these three to find you?

 

That's the town/city/kingdom Sadi came from.

If you've got something in mind, take it away!

 

Sadi seemed to know his way well around the town, though he said this was the first time he had been here. “It’s a bit strange this place. It’s almost as if I know where to go.” This disturbed both Sadi and Illith’Hen. As they made their way into what they hoped to be a weapons-shop they heard Glamrod say “I’ll be at that tavern if ye wants me” before he moved off.

Illith'Hen and Sadi entered the weapon shop and stocked up on the quivers and traveling clothes. While they were browsing through the stand which held quivers the weapon seller approached them. “That is a good bow you carry Sir.” Illih’Hen did not want to think of the bow. It was Melfdale’s bow which Kibrani had brought along after his betrayal in the caverns.
“Why are you interested in it?”
“I believe I recognize those runes running along the shaft of the bow. It belonged to an elf that lived here long ago. How is it that you have come across it?” The man smiled, but that did not hide the malice that radiated from him.
“What do you know of the wood elf? I assume you at least know his name”
“Ah Sir, so you are a crony of his. Well could you tell me where he is? There are scores which must be settled between he and me.”
“Well if that is your aim you might have to travel to the next plane. Melfdale is dead.”
“What? That gizzard owes me 150 gold coins! Considering that you seem to be such pals with him I suggest that you make well my loss.”
“This is ridiculous! How are we to know who you are and what your relationship was with him? That is assuming we speak of the same person. I think you have taken leave of your senses old man.”
“No Sir, I has my money coming to me. Now give me my money or I will take you to the judge.”
Sadi, who had been quite until then interjected, “You have no case against us. If it makes you happy I will talk to the head of this town. There is none unknown to me. I am sure that he will see the truth to our advantage.”
At Sadi’s words the shop owner roared, “I don’t need you to tell me what is right and what is wrong in my own roof. Argaorath!!”
Soon they heard what seemed to be a large man shuffling over from the interiors of the shop.

As soon as he glimpsed the shadow of this hulk Illith’Hen swooned. The staff glowed as he clasped it and drove it into the earth trying to support him-self.
Suddenly a great light shone covering the entire town. With a great rumbling sound the ground shook so hard that both Sadi and Illith’Hen were knocked down to their knees.
When the mist and smoke cleared they saw a strange sight. The shop had been ransacked and all the walls bore scars of what seemed to be a great fire or other calamity. As they stumbled out they were met by a silent world. Where were all the people? The market place which had been full a moment before was now deserted. The quivers they had bought were nowhere to be seen.
Glamrod was trying to get up where he had fallen off the bar stool. But where was the bar?
Callain was knocked down as he crossed he court into the market. When his eyes cleared there was just rubble all around him. Instinctively he grabbed his swords and ran over to where Kibrani must have been.
Kibrani and Myrara thought the roof would fall over their heads and rushed out pell-mell. They expected to have to fight the merchant and his fools but were stunned when they saw what awaited them outside.

Sadi saw the shape of the creature which had been about to emerge from the shop. It stood there as if trying to get it bearings. It was an Ulder'Gein.
“Drogul’s work.”

 

I'm BAaaaACK!!

Kibrani shook her head to get her hair out of her eyes. What little sunshine there had been was now clouded by the ash and dust. She had her daggers ready, but saw no immediate threat from the merchant or his men. It was when Callain came sprinting towards her that she turned and saw the Ulder' Gein. She gasped. Kibrani turned to face the creature fully, Callain and Myrara falling into step and stance with her.
Then they saw Iliith'Hen, still stunned, on his back before the beast. The Stave was clutched in one upthrust hand, glowing dimly. The Ulder'Gein snuffled wetly, and turned its face down to him. The Ulder'gein reached down to Iliith'Hen, and the Stave. A loud, rining bellow sounded out, and Kale'panir charged the creature, head lowered. At this, Myrara let out an inhuman cry, following the stag. The Ulder'Gein was just turning to them when Kale'panir hit. The Ulder'Gein took the blow full in the belly, and went flying. It shrieked, landing on its back, hooves slashing the air.
Then Myrara descended on it, the emerald-topped staff dealing blow after blow. The Ulder'Gein was still shrieking. Shaking off their surprise, Callain and Kibrani reacted. Callain set a bolt to his crossbow, and Kibrani ran in, knives raised.
Myrara was screaming something in her native language, slashing with her staff. Callain's bolt thudded into the Ulder'Gein's eye as Kibrani's knife cut its throat, ending the creatures cries. Kibrani wiped the knife on her shirt and sheathed it, grabbing Myrara's shoulders as the Kale'jhidohen continued to attack the ulder'Gein.
"Calm down!" Kibrani shouted into Myrara's face. "Stop it! Calm down!"
Tears were streaming down the Kale'jhidohen's cheeks, and she cried out in a broken voice "it killed him! It killed him! And it would have killed Iliith'Hen!"
Kibrani looked back at the elf, who had been helped up by Glamrod and Sadi. Iliith'Hen was deathly white, and leaning on the Stave.
"Calm down." Repeated Callain, standing beside Kibrani, "Calm down. Who did it kill?"

[ August 06, 2003, 00:24: Message edited by: Valkyrie ]

 

Welcome back, Valkyrie! Was is fun?

Myrara had to take several deep breaths before she could continue. "The shopkeeper," she answered at last. "He was killed to set the trap that would deliver the Stave." She looked up at Illith'Hen. "You would have been next. The Stave chose to save you."

At the sound of footsteps Callain whirled and leveled his crossbow, only to see Second and Third emerge from the haze of dust.

"There is no one else left," Second noted.

"We should move on," Third added.

 

Rallymama---- yeah, it was pretty fun. It was a sort of habitat for humanities thing w/ my church. After that, as we came home, we went whitewater rafting. That was wild.

Sadi looked down at where the Ulder'Gein had been, where nothing but ash remained, and gulped. He said, "yes. We should go. there are always more of these creatures lurking where one is."
"I second that," Iliith'Hen said hoarsely. He was shaking a bit from exertion. Everyone nodded and looked to Myrara, who had thrown her arms around her stag and was burying her face in its neck. The stag saw their regard and nudged Myrara gently on the shoulder. She looked up, eyes a little red-rimmed.
"Yes. Let us go far from here." She said, her voice thin. "They are coming."

 

Sadi was worried to a greater extent than he showed. This was undoubtedly Drogul's doing. And he never did things by half. Whatever the girl and her stag might think, it wan't only the shopkeeper who had been killed. Drogul had leveled the entire town and established an illusion stronger than what he had ever imagined.
This Ulder'Gein had not wandered here alone on his own alone. There were undobtedly others lurking nearby.Ulder'Gein and goblins.

Sadi called his worriors close to him and told them to gaurd the staff bearer Illith'Hen with their life. He did not notice the look in their eyes as they shadowed the elf.
The staff was obviously something of great power. In the hands of Drogul it could only only give rise to the most terrible of horrors on this earth. If it had not been for the staff they would have wandered here for longer and would have surely been trapped. There might still be a chance that they may get away without meeting too much resistance.

 

Marching. The simple act of putting one foot in front of the other, over and over again.

Marching consumed their world, eating away at the edges of perception until they saw nothing beyond the next footfall, heard nothing but the sound of boots on gravel, felt nothing but the ache of tired legs. If the dust cleared and color returned to the world, they never noticed. If they ate they did so while moving, chewing in time to their steps. If one stumbled, another was there to help until some semblance of strength returned.

They marched until only Glamrod, Second, and Third were standing unassisted. Illith'Hen leaned heavily on the staff when they stopped, then slowly slid to his knees. The others collapsed where they stood. Sleep came quickly, and flames filled their dreams.

Illith'Hen kept on marching, right through the flames that licked at his feet and the hem of his cloak. The staff consumed the fire around him, consumed it and channeled it into his soul. It ran through his body and poured from his hands, where that staff eagerly lapped it up and returned it to him. He lost himself in a dizzy spiral of flame.

Myrara's path led her to a lake of fire. She looked for Kale'panir to make sure he could cross, only to see that he was already on the other side. She took a deep breath and stepped off the edge... Callain's head was pillowed in Kibrani's lap. Her hair spilled over them both in a curtain of flame, and he let himself get lost in the fire of her passion... Glamrod stood before a forge. It shattered at the first blow of his hammer and the fire exploded forth. When it died back, he was untouched... Sadi too worked at a forge, but no matter how much he stoked the flames it kept guttering out... Second and Third continued marching, their path marked by an infinite line of torches...

They woke unrefreshed, and continued marching.

[ August 05, 2003, 15:57: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

(I've had so much to do recently that I haven't had time to write, but now I had some spare time so here it is - what i wrote in my spare time, not the actual spare time )

Their relentless march brought them to the crest of a hill just before dawn. Looking down, as they paused to catch their breath, they all saw the luscious green valley, encircled by hills on all sides. Could quite put words around the niggling sensation that something wasn't quite right about this empty valley. A tensing of muscles and checking of weapons ran through the group as they started their march down into the valley.

Halfway down the slope the Sun peeked above the opposite hilltops.. As the ball of flame rose and shone out across the valley the party were forced to shield their eyes, or else go blind from the brilliant light it radiated, somehow it was brighter than sunlight had ever been before.

They stood in a shocked silence looking down at the valley. The valley that had been empty seconds before was now filled with trees, every sort any of them had ever seen, and many that none of them had. The first to recover was Myara.

“Behold Droangur”

 

Rallymama, that was really good!!

Callain was the second to recover, and he turned his face from the sight.
"Behold how little I care," he grumbled, glaring at the tattered toes of his boots. His feet were pulsing with pain in rhythm with his heart. Kibrani, standing next to him, gave his elbow a little smack.
"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to insult the spirit of Droangur?" She hissed at him. Callain scowled at her, though it was half-hearted.
"What spirit of Droangur?' He asked. "I've never heard of a bunch of trees having a spirit."
"Droangur has been here since the Beginning. Since before everything else. Something that old would have a spirit." Kibrani informed him. Callain snorted derision. Kibrani looked at him with reproach. "When you're as old as Droangur, then you can tell me it has no spirit. Until then, I believe the forest."
"How can a forest tell you if it has a spirit or not?" Protested Callain. The others in the group were rolling their eyes at the couple good-naturedly.
"If you listen, and if you believe, then you can hear the spirit whispering." Kibrani said loftily. "But since you're so thick-headed...."
"Come on you two," interrupted Iliith'Hen as Callain opened his mouth to reply. "Lets get going."
"Alright," said Kibrani, lifting her nose in the air mockingly. Callain muttered darkly under his beath as the group moved onwards.

The forest of Droangur was indeed very old, and had not been disturbed in nearly as long. So in effect, the plants had grown unchecked; creeping vines covered the ground and the trunks of trees. Trees that were so large that it would take you several hours to walk around the base. In many places the vines had grown between two trees, stretched between the trunks to form a sort of wall. Fungus was everywhere, from shelf fungi on the trees to puffballs hidden deep in the grass. The growth was all so close that the air was stale and thick. All this made it very difficult to trek through the forest.
"I think I hate this place," gasped Sadi as he waded through a clump of weeds. Everyone was sweat-slicked and tired. Sadi tripped, and was lost to sight as he sank into the plants.
"That's what you get," huffed Kibrani breathlessly, "for insulting Droangur."
Sadi struggled up, grimacing. He was up to the elbows in decomposing greenery. he looked down at himself. "Ugh."
Kibrani stifled a snicker, and Glamrod gave a low chuckle.
"Wait." Said iliith'Hen. He held up a hand. The group fell silent, watching him. "I hear something."
And they listened, straining to hear something other than the unnatural silence of Droangur.

 

“They’re waiting for us, aren’t they?” Kibrani asked eagerly. “Let’s go!” She followed Illith’Hen as he set off at a rapid pace, her footsteps almost as light as the elf’s. The underbrush seemed to part before them, and they were soon lost from view behind the trailing vines.

“Go after them, quickly!” Myrara urged. “If the invitation is for their ears only, we mustn’t get separated!” They stumbled through the wood as best they could, branches plucking at their clothes and hair, vines wrapping around their legs. Kibrani appeared suddenly from behind a large tree, beckoning them impatiently.

“Come on! We’re going to miss it…” She grabbed Callain’s hand and pulled him forward, then scampered back to herd the others around the tree.

At her touch, the gloom fell away and Callain saw a large clearing where before there had been only trees and brush. The branches snagging him became the caressing fingers of dryads, the trailing moss turned into streamers of flowers, jewel-bright insects twinkled through the air. A party was in progress, and they the honored guests.

The hovering forest spirits stripped away their worn traveling clothes, replacing them with robes spun of spidersilk and moonlight. Halfway to the center of the clearing stone cistern spilled forth fire like water, a gentle green flame that flowed over the ground and sank into the soft moss. Two slim figures clothed only in fire scooped up handfuls of the flames and let them pour over the travelers’ heads, washing away the dust and weariness of the road without a trace of heat. The staff glowed and seemed to swell as it soaked up the fire.

When the last of them had been thus cleansed, the deep tones of a massive bell sounded through the wood. “Hail the Guardian of the Heir of Fate!” a clear voice rang out. They stared towards the center of the clearing, where stood an empty altar. “Approach your destiny.”

They started forward but spun about at a scream from behind them. Red flames shot from the cistern, showering the attendants with sparks that greedily consumed the fuel they were given. With a deafening crack, the altar split into two parts that fell to the ground. A deep voice issued from the cloud of smoke that rose from the rubble.

“You, the Heir of Fate? That title is rightfully mine! Approach, indeed…”

[ August 07, 2003, 19:02: Message edited by: Rallymama ]