Open Chronicles It Is Your Shallow Belief That Hinders Your Progress.

[He Who Chews The Flowers]

"Explain the situation to me again."

The disgruntled sergeant was walking to the barely repaired Allirian walls as the guardsman reporting to him tried to keep up.

"Sir it's unlike anything we've seen recently. It doesn't stand as tall a mountain, but it is quite large. Its head is the shape of a deadened deer. I cannot tell if it bears feathers or fur. It just wandered passed the gates. Apparently, it was a child who noticed it first."

The two guards continued up the temporary wooden stairs in hopes to get a good look at the creature. The sun was beating down hard the two of them. It was hot as the nine hells and muggy at that. Where all the moisture in the air was coming from was anyone's guess.

As they approached the top of the stairs, they were greeted by two other guards who were looking over the wall and down at the situation. The sergeant noticed their looks of confusion as they peered towards the monstrosity.

"Report, Miles."

The sergeant barked at one of his gawking subordinates.

"Sir, it's just."

Miles had to take another look at it. It did it again. The creature did it again.

"It's just waving at us."

"What?"

The sergeant walked over to the edge of the wall. He peered down and soon his face went white with both horror and perplexity. There it stood, an eight foot monster just about to enter the city of Alliria. People of all sorts were either cowering away from it or looking at it with complete awe. And it was looking right at the sergeant; waving as if it was saying hello.

BELOW
​

Flowers looked up at the men in the silly silver outfits and waved once more. There were so many people here! It was really exciting. A lot of them were being really nice, too. Like the tiny one.

The wendigo looked over towards the little boy who had pointed him out and called out to him. His mother and father both looked at Flowers with utter terror but the boy didn't seem bothered by the scenario. He seemed excited, even.

More people were gathering around him. Some of the ones in the silly silver outfits were pouring out from the gate.

He had so many friends today!

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod was amongst the crowd when the creature had appeared. Tall, lanky, and ugly as sin. But... it seemed harmless enough.

It would make a fine meal. Belephus purred.

A click of the teeth. No. Probably best just to stay out of this one.

Though he could already hear a rabble starting to rouse.

How would this play out if he just stood there? Would the city-folks just turn rabid on this creature? After a failed dragon raid that had left all manner of fetid horror mucking about... yeah, probably. Garrod sighed, and walked toward the gate, his stride easy enough, despite the fat-bladed sword that hung at his back.

"Oy," Garrod called out to the creature when he was... near enough. "They'll probably kill you, you know?" He spoke out. "I mean, even during the best of times, most City folk can't handle such natural strangeness as yourself," He motioned with his hands, a palm raised up to the big creature. "You do understand me, yes?"

Why else would they be waving.

Well. Could be some horrible trap. He'd read a thing or two about horrors that adapted social behaviors. But... those were rare, right? And such rarities... no. It would make sense for something like that to show up here.

After all. A bunch of bloody necromancers left their mess here not too long ago.

 

[He Who Chews The Flowers]

Flowers peered at all the people that were flooding to him. He felt so popular in this place, and he wondered why he didn't try to visit Alliria more. Most people shot arrows at him on sight. This seemed so much different. But a voice broke through the crowd to remind him of not being welcomed here. The larger beast turned to face Garrod, each of his steps making a thundering crash without the intent to. Many people backed away when he took his steps, even some of the guard.

His teeth cracked open and there were audible cues that his jaw was snapping when he opened it. As if he seemed to rarely use it. When he spoke, the voice was low and ridden with rasp. He sounded as a smoker would 40 years into their habit.

"Buuuuutttttt whhhhhyyyyyyy?" His words were slow, carefully chosen.

"I ammmmmm aaaaaa frrrriiiiieeeennnndddd toooooo allllllllll."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A single green eye narrowed as the creature's jaw cracked and popped and snapped as it uttered words that seemed to shake all the air between them. The sound, raspy and charred, like brittle wood devoured by flame, let out each syllable in long languid bouts.

"Right," simple and short. "Look, you... look like friend to me," he scratched his chin with the long claws of his gauntlet. Bone white of the relic armor gleamed beneath the sun, greenish and alive, and the grey of the jewel seemed to shine with an intelligence that needed no words to be felt. "I know what its like to live on the fringes," he offered out the clawed hand, as if to welcome the big beast of bone and flesh and petrified joints. "This place, most people in it, and places like it, they don't understand things they don't see walking infront of them on most days, much less a creature come from timeless shadows," he jabbed a finger out, away from the city walls and back toward the open field that lead to the desecrated forests just beyond the walls and the hills that surrounded the great city.

"Come on, friend, I'll walk with you," he invited, and he couldn't tell what the peoples gathered around were doing exactly. Calm as his voice may have been, and placid as his expression showed, his heart was pounding inside the cage of his ribs. A beat frantic with the fear that always came with staring down such things beyond a mortal man. But it was nothing he hadn't seen before. Just another reminder of his own insignificance wrapped up in different skin and adorned with a different crown.

He Who Chews The Flowers

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He placed the head of the troll on the counter of the guardsmen's desk.

"There's some report of a beast near the gate." He curtly said, not even bothering to look at him as he tossed the sack of coin his way. Arnor looked down at it, then up at the guard.

"We might pay for it if it's lethal."

"Hmh."

----

Arnor watched from the crowd, standing tall when the creature moved forward, and the guard began to half encircle it, terrified as the man before it was. Arnor cocked his head to the side, roughly estimating that he was about a quarter bigger than he was in his.... bearly state.

Arnor kept his arms crossed, watching the armored man with the oddly shaped hand reach out to it.

"They welcomed me. Why not welcome it?"

Arnor turned to the guard, raising a brow. Nordenfiir mercenaries were common, and the fact that at any given moment, they could turn into something just as deadly as the creature- well. It didn't seem all that harmful. In his experience, unfriendly monsters, and beasts hid away. It was simply bad business for them to maintain a high-profile if they were nefarious. Lesha, Pesta... Dragons.

Dragons were a good example. Didn't see too many of them, did you? No. Because once the "beast races" figured out how to fletch an arrow, the time of the giant sky lizard that breathed fire was limited. The angry dragons were killed, and perhaps rightfully so, and the more noble and reserved hid away in mountains and in tunnels, surviving as the wheels of time continued to turn.

If Arnor had to guess, it wasn't harmful or deadly. If it was, well.

He'd fucking kill it and make a quick buck. But he didn't foresee that happening.

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Elinyra was annoyed foremost at the disruption of flow through the city gates. She had wanted to make her way through this place of refuse and clamor as quickly as possible, but some ruckus had other travellers fleeing and guards coming outside the safety of their walls. That "ruckus" being what the most cautious of people might call a monster.

The elf shivered in her cloak when she saw the creature, and not simply on account of its unnatural countenance; the wound in her hand was pulsing with pain. Was it because this creature had been infected by the blight? Or was the blight within her awakening in the presence of a powerful entity of nature? Whatever it was, it inspired curiosity and caution in equal measure. Her trek through the cities of men could wait awhile longer.

She hadn't caught most of the conversation between the creature and the human she'd met on the Sea Demon, but she had heard the wendigo speak. Blighted or not, perhaps such a being would have some knowledge about the cause of the blight.

At least it didn't seem outwardly dangerous. She kept her bow stowed as she approached.

"Hail again, hunter," she said with a nod to Garrod. "I see that you've already found something... interesting since we left the ship."

 

[He Who Chews The Flowers]

The human beside him was being exceptionally kind. A rarity in their folk, but a welcome one. The man who'd named him was also a very kind man. Similar to this man with the hueless hair, he'd been a warrior, too. Were most humans' warriors? He wasn't entirely sure.

A good amount of them carried swords they hoped to bloody with Flowers' flesh. It was always heartbreaking seeing their reactions, their stoic heroism turned to a child's fear when they learned that this monster did not bleed.

He looked upon the crowd that was beginning to fill with more of those in shiny outfits. Some had already drawn weapons in anticipation. But this was not a new thing to the beast. Many had pointed their weapons at him before they knew he could speak. Oftentimes, his voice scared them. He wished it didn't.

Another, an elvish woman, approached the man with the hueless hair. She called Flowers something interesting. He took it as a compliment.

"Yoouuuuuu areeeee innntttttreesshhhhhtttitinngg as wellllllllll. Arrreeeee yooouuuu goooooiiiiinnnggg toooo waaalllkkkk witttthhhhhh usssss?"

Elinyra Arnor Skuldsson Garrod Arlette ​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Elinyra looked up at Flowers with a soft smile. She couldn't place this being specifically within the scope of druidic lore, but she was certain this was some sort of spirit. Spirits as a whole weren't typically known for their subtlety; a malevolent spirit was obviously so at first glance. Instinctively, she didn't feel that Flowers held any harmful intentions.

"Yes, I will walk with you." She glanced back at the armed guards with a frown before dismissing their existence completely. "Child of nature, what brings you from the wilds to a city such as this?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A familiar voice called to him. His head turned, and his single green eye found a face he did not think he would see again. "Druid," he replied with a small smile, and an adjustment of his posture, hand falling to his side, if only for a moment. "You can certainly say that," he nodded, and the creature's weight seemed to shift as it adjusted its line of sight, massive skull-like head angled so its eyes could better see all the shiny suits of armor that were gathering around. It spoke.

The voice with which the creature communicated, it rattled his spine. Shook the very drums of his ears and seemed to vibrate his mind in a way most unpleasant. A minor discomfort would show on his face, a wince of his eye, and a scrunch of the shoulders and tuck of neck as he turned away, just a smidge.

He was glad Elinyra had arrived. Her calm demeanor able to sooth over the jagged chill that raked along his insides.

Child of nature.

Somehow, as Garrod straightened up once more and looked again to the creature, thinking of it as such, it helped the hunter of monsters see it clearer. Freer of the swirling anxieties of the crowd.

For now, he would stand and listen. For it was not often such a Child of Nature appeared before him. He just hoped the many others still holding their breaths could understand as well, and his eyes turned to scan their faces, take in their expressions.

Fear. Confusion. Doubt. Anger. Most wore faces that denoted base feelings. Expressions of survival. It made him feel the weight of his own sword all the more, heavy bladed as it was, and he thought of the fit of his armor.

They'll kill you just for standing in the way, Oh Bearer Mine, his demon laughed.

Elinyra He Who Chews The Flowers Arnor Skuldsson