Completed Seed of Doubt

Elinyra Derwinthir

Blightborn Champion
Member
Messages
253
Character Biography
Link
Though I am but meek in my mortal shell,
I tread bare of foot in the giants’ court.
Whisper thine truth unto me, fife and bell,
‘Neath elden branches of the Forest Lord.

Half-remembered words echoed through Elinyra’s mind as she woke to the soft pattering of rain against leaves. The forest was still in the early, grey hours of a morning enveloped in a lazy storm. Water dripped into tiny mud holes from the lip of the earthen hollow she had made her camp in the night before. Looking out at her damp surroundings, she considered sleeping a few more hours until the weather sorted itself out. It seemed impolite to ask such a decent storm to dissipate solely due to her restlessness.

The same restlessness that had haunted her since her arrival in Astenvale. Even among the joyous festivities that the locals called "Broofest", she had felt something, like a voice calling just at the edge of her hearing; Something from deep within the Valen Wilds. She’d left the town behind only yesterday along a seldom-travelled trail, but civilization might as well have been a world away in the ancient embrace of the ever-deepening woods. That should have been a comfort for the elven druid who’d spent most of her life in solitude or in a community smaller than most settlements. Yet something about this forest made her feel ill at ease. The blight, perhaps… the very thing she’d come all the way from the Falwood to understand. To put a stop to, if possible.

She held her right hand out in the dawn’s gloomy light, inspecting it as she had every morning since she had discovered the unnatural wound in her palm. It looked just as it had before; blackened flesh around a core of calloused skin that had never quite healed. She reassured herself that it hadn’t spread, and the ugly flesh around it didn’t look nor smell gangrenous. But it had been hurting again, intermittently.

Elinyra tried to put it out of her mind again as she rolled back over in the relative dryness of the hollow, pulled her cloak over herself like a blanket, and went back to sleep.

-----------------------------------​


Beyond the deceiving calm of fog and clouds, the great ball of celestial fire was slowly driving its chariot over the jagged peaks of The Spine to rule over a new day filled with thousands of other dreams and fears, plots and feats. A squad of Knights of Anathaeum was preparing for a standard patrol along a perilous road; a pack of wolves whose alphas had fallen to some corruption were fighting for their future; a tree fell quietly in the deepest depths of the wood with no one around to hear it.
 
  • Love
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Faramund and Selene
The head of the wolf lay in Selene's lap, its muddied sides barely moving with each shallow breath. She smoothed the fur out between its ears and hummed softly, knowing she could do nothing for the creature. Corruption clung to the wounds at the wolf's throat, already churning the blood a black color there as the blightrot seeped deeper into his veins.

Behind her, stood Syr Remme Noble, rain pelting down on the wash bucket he called a helmet. "Vilen's waiting up ahead," said the man. He stepped closer, kneeled down next to Selene. The sound of the storm washed over them, muted by the dense treetops above. "Captain, I know you want to help, but that one's already lost. We can't spare the time."

Selene kept stroking the wolf's head. "I know it," she responded. The wolf's muscles tensed under her touch, given strength by the flow of blight where there once was life. She pressed her palm more firmly against the wolf's head, fingers twisting to clamp its maw shut. Its claws kicked at the leaflitter, and a growl burned deep in its throat. In her other hand, Selene drew a thin silver blade.

Tension slackened once again, and the sound of the rain beat down on the two knights. Up ahead on the twisting road, the other half of their patrol was waiting for them.

----

Upon a branch in the wood perched a curious shadow, a black mass of feathers that puffed our defiantly against the rain. Fat droplets shook off the branch as the raven bounced down a bough closer, leaning forward precariously, neck stretched and head tilting side-to-side. It eyed the bundle of cloak nestled in the dry hollow below the branches, that it had spied. It clacked its beak, a hollow sound that matched the rain.

Then, it shook out its feathers even bigger, and let out a single, pointed, squawck!

Elinyra
 
The familiar trees and forbs of the Falwood spread out before Elinyra in the misty surrealism of a dream: oak, alder, rowan and birch; summer rose, yarrow, hare’s bell and nightshade. Their forms all blurred into leaf-edged moonlight and shadow as she ran, breathless but pressed on by sheer desperation. The others… where were the others?!

She had to find help somewhere within this impossible labyrinth of foliage that suddenly seemed to bind her feet and rise up like walls as quickly as she could tear them down. In those moments of panic she felt it – the creeping doom of an imminent nightmare. Her imagined escape route cut off, she spun around to face it, her heart pounding like a rabbit trapped by a fox.

A tall figure stalked out of the woods, features masked by some dark aura, a building tempest of cold void that drank the life from the surrounding plants. Elinyra drew her bow, but it snapped apart in her hands like a piece of kindling and withered into nothing. Some horrid noise slithered just out of her mind’s grasp as the figure brandished a slim dagger, smooth and variegated like polished wood.

She raised her right hand instinctively to protect herself as the figure leaped forward and darkness crowded in all around her. She again felt the heat and shock of the pain from her hand, again saw the dagger buried in her palm, again heard her voice screaming from the past.

Squawck! The cry shook Elinyra from the nightmare’s grasp, but not the intense emotions from it. She bolted up, cursing as the top of her head collided with the shallow roof of the hollow, sending chunks of dirt flying all over herself. She looked around wildly, but there was nothing there except for dirt, rocks and a light curtain of rain.

"Just a dream," she whispered to herself with a deep sigh and poked her head out of the hollow.

“Hello, friend corbran,” she said when she finally spotted the ball of puffed feathers and curiosity in the branches. Thunder rumbled distantly as they observed each other. “It is a bit of a rainy day to be on the wing, isn’t it? You’re welcome to share this dry spot with me if you get too waterlogged.”

Elinyra closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on the technique druids used to communicate with animals. Not to make a request or seek information in this instance, but rather just to convey the sense that the elf meant no harm.

Then she sat back in her hollow and stretched out whatever stiffness lingered in her limbs. No point in trying to sleep now, especially with the storm’s energy on the wane. She tried to distract herself from her bad dreams by considering how much she’d rather be sharing a coffee with her friend Garrod right now. Grinning despite herself, she started gathering up her pack and supplies for the day’s long journey.

Selene

 
Last edited:
  • Cry
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Faramund and Selene
Crik-crik-crik craw! The raven wattled out in its animal speak, and then it lowered its voice. Swaying side-to-side on the branch, it switched a tongue that witches and druids had long maintained betwixt their animal familiars.

"Hello! Hello, well met! I see your friend sign," it said with a croak in its voice and a gleam in its yellow eye. "I am Leyyy-ik-k, first among fowl. You are..."

The raven stretched forward to peer at the elven woman, until its balance was lost and it tumbled forward with a flurry of wingbeats into the hollow. Righting itself, Leyik shook dirt and raindrops from its feathers. Then it hopped around the druid's supplies, an eye always on her. "... you are, hollow-handed. Dreaming! From outside."

Before she could pack it up, Leyik nudged a small leather pouch away from the woman's reach. The bird held the pouch steady in one claw and bent forward to beak at the string that kept it tied. Unable to get the knot loose, Leyik looked back up, beard feathers bristling for another croak. "Give me this!"

Elinyra
 
Elinyra was caught by surprise when the raven spoke. A familiar was quite an unexpected encounter, especially along a trail she’d not met another soul on. It left her wondering where Leyik’s bonded person was, and what their business could be with her.

Hollow-handed, Leyik had said. She subconsciously clenched her right hand at her side. She had just picked up the thin leather gloves she’d taken to wearing to conceal her affliction, but stopped to watch the bird poking around her supplies.

“Dreaming from outside? What do you mean?”​

“Give me this!” Leyik demanded, trying to open the pouch. Elinyra picked up the bag with slight bewilderment. She untied the knot holding it closed and carefully poured the contents out into her good hand. It was just a collection of a few mementos from her travels; an acorn from one of her homeland’s great oaks, a dried exotic bean she’d convinced a particular lich to part with, a tiny fish bone found in a creepy swamp village, and a satchel of protective herbs she carried around like a good-luck charm.

"What is it you want, Leyik?"

Selene

 
  • Sip
  • Thoughtful
Reactions: Faramund and Selene
Joy and curiosity twinkled in Leyik's eyes as the elven woman opened the pouch and spread its contents out into her palm.

What is it you want, Leyik? The elf offered. Leyik considered the question.

"Dream of trees, dream of luck, dream of fish," the raven chanted as a child might chant a choosing rhyme, tilting her head to and fro as she examined the objects in the elf's hand. Then, Leyik pecked at the round, golden acorn with her beak (with a gentleness that avoided pricking the skin, as if she was used to having friends with palms) and held it up triumphantly against the mottled grey sky.

"This!" Leyik tried to squawk with the hard shell in her beak, and promptly dropped it onto the ground. Her head tilted down at ninety degrees as her yellow eye triangulated the acorn's new location. "For the lord of the wood, a dream from outside," she croaked, her raven's voice turning ceremonious. "This will do."

If the elven woman had a mind to, she would be able to take the acorn back from the raven. If not, Leyik would scoop it up again with a claw, hopping awkwardly on one leg outside of the hollow. She spread her great black wings wide against the drip-drop of leftover rain from the treetops, and readied herself to take flight.



The beacon was up ahead.

Noble strayed from the path first, pushing his way through the underbrush, bramble thorns scraping against his metal armor. Selene followed behind him, stepping in the heavy boot prints he left in the mud. The rain was making Selene feel nostalgic. She remembered when the lad was half that size, unable to get up on a horse without a helping boost. Noble was an earnest sort from a modest family of farmers who happened to owe the Order a life debt. There was a rumor in his village that started after he left for the monastery - one of Anathaeum witches stealing firstborn sons, coming in cold fall mornings when chrysanthemums bloom. A morning not unlike this one, though there wasn't a bloom in sight.

"Back here," the Dawn knight broke the silence. "This is where we put the first beacon."

Noble pushed up the feathery branch of a pine and ducked underneath it. Beyond was a narrow grove of clear ground, and at the center of the grove a thin metal rod stuck out of the ground. Arcing circles of pebbles were arranged around it in a complex pattern, and each pebble had a rune carved into it.

Stepping into the grove, Selene knelt down, put one hand on the wet moss at the edge of the beacon, and closed her eyes.
 
The raven seemed interested in the Falwood acorn. Elinyra admitted to herself that she would miss this little trinket, but maybe this was an omen for her. It was time to fully let go of the homeland she had left behind.

With a wistful sigh, Elinyra put the other items back in the bag and watched Leyik’s departure. When she was alone again, she returned to the task of packing up; gloves, bedroll, pack, quiver, cloak, staff. Once all was in place, she abandoned the hollow and was again on the long trail towards the Eldyr Tree.

The morning’s rain had made the trail slick with mud, so she took to walking on the living mats of grass and moss along its edges. She cast her focus to the nearby woodland animals one by one, borrowing their senses for brief glimpses of the landscape ahead and the dangers it might present. Her eyes changed subtly with each passing consciousness she shared, from deer to hawk to hedgehog to fox, and each ally left an impression of her surroundings.

All was peaceful for the first few miles, if not gloomy. The morning sun glowed only dimly through ragged clouds and an encompassing overstory. It wasn’t long into her day, however, before Elinyra got the feeling that something was amiss. The shared thoughts became more sparse, more agitated. She warped staff into bow and kept it strung as a precaution.

A subtle noise, like a stone thrown against a tree, disturbed the silence of the wilderness and drew Elinyra’s attention. Before she had the chance to see the source, she caught the flicker of movement from the corner of her eye and heard the whistle of air being split.

She ducked behind a half-rotted stump as an arrow buried itself into the trunk of a tree behind where she’d been standing a moment ago.

“The prey’s quick,” a man’s voice growled from somewhere in the woods. “But how strong?”

Another arrow thunked into the stump to her other side, at a slightly different angle. Her attacker was changing positions. Glancing around for better cover, the druid made herself as low as possible. She rolled towards the largest tree near her, a red-barked cedar, and placed it between herself and the archer.

Silence closed in. Elinyra stilled her breaths, listening for any sound that might give away her unseen opponent’s location. Slowly, quietly, she nocked an arrow while shifting part of her will to the trees around her.

Be my senses.

Briefly, she felt the roots beneath her feet like an extension of her nerves, feeling the soil and the air and the water; and the footfalls of one humanoid. She made a mental request of the roots to hinder her stalker, but neither felt nor heard a response.

She leaned out from the cover of the tree and loosed an arrow at the place she’d sensed the attacking man’s presence, but her projectile only buried itself deep in a thicket.

Another whistle from beside her, a sudden pain as a sharp-tipped wooden shaft plunged into her side. Bracing against the tree, she stumbled to the side and finally saw her attacker.

Half of him was undeniably human, light of skin and hair, with just the bare stubble of a beard. The other half, from his left hand up his arm to his shoulder, up his throat and across his left cheek was a blackened, bark-like flesh. He was dressed in the typical leathers and furs of a hunter, except where this putrescence had jaggedly ripped through and formed a thorny armor. Animal skulls, skins, tails and teeth adorned this horrific growth.

“My equal? No! Hardly a worthy trophy. Trophy is power, what power have you?” the half-man creature laughed, waving a hand holding a bow lazily at her. The bow was strange, larger than a normal longbow and shaped crudely, as if some soot-black branch had grown into that form.

“I’m no man’s prey,” Elinyra retorted through teeth gritted against pain. Her right hand was throbbing, as if demanding her attention.

The hunter smirked and drew his bow. He had no quiver; a wooden spike simply sprouted from his bow as he aimed it at her, point-blank.

A stupid move. She lunged towards him and pushed his bow aside just enough for his shot to deflect over her shoulder. She kept her forward momentum while he was surprised, until she’d pinned the weapon against him so he couldn’t shoot another. He put his own momentum into shoving her away. She spun around to his human side and her bow met his face. It only took him a moment to recover, but in that moment the blighted whip exploded from Elinyra’s hand and ensnared the bow.

The whip bit into the hunter’s weapon as she pulled on it. She expected she might disarm him, but instead one of the limbs broke. The creature reeled back, as if she’d struck a blow, still holding onto the weapon.

She noticed it now as a crack spread across the hunter’s left hand and arm – the weapon was part of this monster.

The hunter stared in shock at the whip in her hand and started to retreat. Elinyra let him go. She was in no shape to continue this fight.

“Trophy is power, I need more! Will be back, prey!” a manic shout echoed through the trees before it was silent once more.

Once again, the whip decayed into dust over a matter of seconds; just as when the wraith slugs on the Sea Demon had been dealt with during her journey to Alliria. Elinyra was more concerned with the arrow in her side than the state of her hand, for the moment. She felt nauseous from the pain, and she knew it only would get worse when she removed it.

Breathing heavily, she tore some feathery yarrow leaves she’d seen growing in a nearby spot along the trail. These she crushed between her teeth while she collected a few clumps of moss to help prevent her bleeding to death.

She laid down and gathered her strength as she reached for what amounted to the largest splinter she’d ever seen, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t get a grip, and the blood from her hand only made it slippery.

No good. Her vision was blurring now. Lying at the side of the trail with clumps of moss pressed against her side, the druid did the only thing she could think of; she appealed to the birds of the air and the beasts of the land for aid.

Something listened...

Selene

 
Last edited:
Underneath their feet were miles of roots, and in between those roots were silk-thin filaments of lifestuff, threads of mana so small that alone they were undetectable. As Selene reached out through the beacon, her anima slipped between those filaments.

Time was funny down there.

It was easy to get lost, to spend seven cycles as bear, tasting the high meadow blueberries as they went from late summer sour to autumn sweet. Or to become a fallen tree, body turning back to earth as her seedlings' roots tangled together above her, competing for the light. She didn't have seasons to waste, so instead she honed her focus on the spaces without life, the patches of blightrot that plagued this land.

Selene hoped that imbuing an object with some of her anima would give it the same blight-absorbing properties that she had. The idea had come from Valborast, one of her Sworn Dusk, and the undesirable part of his soul he'd banished into an ordinary sword. And from Blightdrinker, that cursed blade the order had uncovered years ago. These metal beacon rods in the ground were of the same composition - steel, feldspar, wood and leather. A mock weapon. But it didn't seem to have the same bite as a weapon, didn't attract the hatred and sorrow of the Vale as those human instruments of war did. Something was missing from the mixture.

"Feel anything?" Noble asked from his place above ground.

"Inconclusive." Dark eyes flicked open and fingers recoiled from the runes. Selene sat back on her haunches, looked at the wet bark of a nearby tree as her mind reoriented itself back in her body. "The blight is too spread out, here. Now, if we could plunge this beacon directly into the heart of an infected creature, I might be able to notice something."

"But... we're not going to do that?" Noble hazarded a guess.

Before Selene could respond, a chattering sound from above disturbed her. Upon a nearby branch bounced a dark, familiar form.

"Leyik," She said to the raven in the impatient tone one might use on a younger sibling. "You are interrupting."

The raven cawed again, flapping its wings in a flurry of frantic motion. Selene took this cawing into deeper consideration, tilting her head in a solemn nod as she listened to Leyik's message.

"Where?" She asked. In response, Leyik dove of the branch, flying low above their heads, and headed back in the direction of the trail they had left.



Several hours later.

Though it must have only been around midday, it felt later, the whole forest wearier for the dark clouds that still blotted out the sun. In a quiet hollow by a shallow stream, a fire crackled. Noble the knight squatted next to the fire, pushing embers around with little purpose. Selene sat on the other side of the camp, facing the stream, twisting a thin slip of paper around a pinch of dried herbs.

Between the two of them, an elf laid on their bedrolls. And next to the elf, on a bloodied square of fabric, was the ugly spike of wood that Selene had pulled from her side. It had been simple enough to stop the bleeding and patch the wound, but Selene was a crude healer. The elf would still be sore when she woke up. But at least, she would be dry. A stretch of canvas flapped gently in the branches above her head, tied up there in case it began to rain again. The canvas was blue and sported the seal of Anathaeum, arching white lines that formed the petals of a chrysanthemum.

Selene finished the roll and held it between her lips. She produced a hotrock - a porous stone with a simple fire rune carved into it - and pressed it against the end of the roll. Thick white smoke billowed out and sank to the ground as she got the thing burning. Syr Noble kicked up his own smoke as he continued to fidget with the fire. He was right to be restless. It was dangerous to stay in one spot for too long in this part of the Valen Wilds.

And where was Leyik? Why, at the edge of the stream, playing with her new prize. She rolled the gifted acorn along the ground, hopping from one foot to the other in some simple game that only the raven was privy to.

Elinyra
 
Gradual waves of the sensory world lapped at the shores of consciousness in Elinyra’s mind. Pain came first, like a creature gnawing at her insides. Then the odor of smoke; burning herbs and dry wood superimposed over the musk of arboreal decay, cedar-bark and rain. The sudden pop of a flame freed and the clunk of a log rolling over as someone prodded a fire. A flapping of fabric in the ghost of a breeze.

Elinyra opened her eyes to see a fabric cover blocking the sky. She glanced around, spying first the bloodied sliver of wood that had been pulled from her side, then the man and woman sitting nearby. The man was anxious, his eyes searching the wood for any sign of peril. An astute attitude, considering that clearly there were more dangerous things to be found out here than aggressive wildlife. The woman enjoying a smoke was no less alert than her counterpart, but seemed far more at ease.

Elinyra recognized the woman; the druid had seen her participating in a beer-drinking contest in some village of no renown. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name – if she’d heard it at all – but recalled that she was one of the knightly order who’d hosted the event. Knights of Anatheaum. She remembered that name, cheered and whispered among the crowd gathered then. This was a hopeful sign. These weren’t vagrants or cutthroats – not that she would expect bandits to have patched her up to begin with.

“I… remember you…” Elinyra croaked, her throat dry and aching from dehydration. She sat up slowly, feeling the depth of her injury, and managed to find her voice after another moment. She glanced between the pair. “I owe you both my life, it seems.”

Although she was indeed grateful, she didn’t have the luxury of time to be anything but pragmatic. That creature had said it would return. Obviously it hadn’t yet, but more the reason to be gone from here as quickly as possible.

Elinyra struggled a bit to get to her feet, but managed it. She looked around for her pack and, more importantly, her bow.

“We shouldn’t dally here. There is still a threat out in the forest.”

A threat that scared her more than she would admit. Usually she could feel the presence of living things through the plants and animals around her. This monster seemed to be able to confuse that sense, somehow. It made her feel blind.

Selene
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: Faramund
A new puff of smoke billowed through the air, propelled by Selene's breath. She stayed where she was as their guest came to her senses, kept looking at the stream even when the other woman sat up and spoke.

Noble was not so serene. The young man sat up straighter when the elf said her thanks. He lifted one gauntlet-clad finger and tapped the side of his visor in a nervous gesture. "Ah, I didn't do much, except carry your stuff..." he half-muttered in response. Said stuff was piled neatly a few inches away from Syr Noble's foot, still-strung bow resting lightly atop her pack.

There is still a threat out in the forest, came the elf's urging.

"Yes," Selene agreed. "We are investigating that threat." She crushed the burning roll against the rock she was sitting on, until the last stripes of smoke stopped wisping from it. With a rustling of robes, Selene stood and moved away from her seat at the river. She stopped to bow to the elf, left hand held palm-up in a purposeful way. It was a greeting common amongst nobles of the Marches. "My name is Selene, and that one over there is Syr Remme Noble, a Knight of Anathaeum."

"There were signs of a fight where we found you," Noble spoke up from his seat at the fire, in lieu of a greeting. "If you can tell us what happened--"

"Moreover," Selene said right on the heels of the other knight's question. "The bird spoke to you. What did it say?"

Elinyra
 
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Faramund
Elinyra had figured there would be questions. She thought she was ready to answer them. Yet Selene's query about the bird she'd met earlier caught her by surprise.

"The bird?" she asked as she picked up her bow. Looking around, she could see the familiar who'd called itself Leyik perched at the edge of the stream. Elinyra was reluctant to say anything about her afflicted hand - though seeing now where the whip's emergence had torn through the palm of her glove, they'd probably already seen the wound. And there was a good chance that Selene already knew what Leyik had said if the bird was her familiar. This might be a test of Elinyra's trustworthiness.

Her fresh wound bit her nerves with every movement. Thinking it best not to stress her injury more than necessary, Elinyra crossed her good hand over her chest and made respectful nods towards each of her rescuers in turn instead of a formal bow.

"Cael eich benn. I am Elinyra, formerly of cearcai ghràineag, one of the Falwood's druidic circles."

She turned to Selene. "As to your question, Leyik mentioned something about a hollow hand, dreaming and from outside. Perhaps this means something to you?"

Once an appropriate space in their conversation presented itself, she would do her best to recall the strange hunter's attack, quick and blurred as the whole fight was. The more Elinyra described it, the more she saw a dreadful sort of semblance between her half-human attacker and the 'talents' that her hand had developed. She didn't - she couldn't - give that any more thought right now lest she have to face the potential implications of her own condition.

Selene
 
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Faramund
Selene tilted her head to listen to the curious greeting. There were some books in her library that mentioned the circles of Falwood, but she had never been that far West to visit. "Well met, Elinyra, formerly of Falwood." Next her question was answered, and honestly, but Selene seemed dissatisfied with the response.

"Is that so?" Selene turned to the raven by the stream, and there was a neutrality to her expression too purposeful in its form to be natural. The bird stopped its play to squawk at the sky - incomprehensible, but frank. Selene sighed at the sight and closed her eyes for a moment. "No, I'm afraid I don't know what that means."

The fire crackled and shifted as Elinyra told her story. Selene came to warm her hands by the fire, and even Leyik, tired of its games, hopped a little closer to the group. After all that could be recalled was said, Noble stirred first. "Captain, can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Hm?" Selene hummed absently, and raised a hand, gesturing lazily between the two of them and their guest. A shimmering film of blue formed around the two knights, a thin force of magic through which no sound could travel. Syr Noble's lips could not be read past his shadowy helm. Selene made no efforts to hide her own face. "What troubles you, Noble?"

"Something's not adding up - if there was corruption that thick woven here, wouldn't we have sensed it by now? But even with the beacon you couldn't feel anything--"

"It has happened before," Selene mused, thinking back to the last time such a rampant corruption had escaped her notice. Troubling to think that such a thing was becoming a regular occurrence, but that was hardly the fault of the woman in front of them.

"And what of the splinter you pulled from her side? That thing reeks of blightrot - a death sentence for most, but she's up and walking around like it was a regular bit of wood."

"Well, you can't curse someone who's already been cursed," Selene responded, her tone unbothered.

"What?" Noble's hand went to the hilt of his sword, beginning to unsheathe blade as he took a couple of steps back. "She's blighted already?!"

Staying where she was, Selene snapped her fingers. The sheen of silence in the air dissipated. She looked to Elinyra, dark eyes glinting only from the firelight. "Syr Noble here doesn't trust you - and he's got a couple of good reasons." Her gaze traveled once more to the knight by her side. "Though he really ought to put his sword away, its quite rude."
 
While Elinyra couldn't make out most of what was said behind the magical barrier, she couldn't help but notice Noble's sudden change in demeanor. She didn't threaten with her own weapon, but she took an alert posture as the knight started to unsheathe his.

"Stay your hand! I am not your enemy," she pleaded sternly. "I am not like that maddened thing."

A pocket of moisture in the burning firewood popped. Thunder rumbled over the rolling woodland hills. Elinyra could feel another storm's approach in the rising of the wind, but found no joy in it.

----------------
Some miles away, a newborn storm dropped its burden of water on a swath of thirsting trees. Beneath the gloomy grey veil, a figure crouched without concern for the cold drops of rain running over bone and wood, soaking into leather and fur. The Hunter knew the rain would send the animals into hiding; but he could feel them hiding beneath stones and cowering beneath in tree holes. Since he got the gift... well, it was the gift that allowed him to feel the prey.

A peal of thunder growled overhead. It was of no importance to the Hunter: his mind never strayed from the hunt. It was all he was. It gave him power. The giver of the gift gave him power. Yet he was not the only one - not yet. By hunting the most dangerous prey - those gifted as he was - he would make it so.

A soft sniff followed by the cracking of twigs and leaves gave away a deer that he'd scared from its bed in the undergrowth. The young doe stood frozen, trusting in her camouflage as she swiveled her ears and stared in the Hunter's direction to discern if he was a predator. A foolish hesitation that she would not live to repeat. Ever so slowly, the Hunter moved into the nearest tree and went through it like a doorway. The ambushed animal had no chance to get away from his bow shot.

Kneeling over the deer's corpse, the Hunter cut out his visceral trophies. The gift allowed him to sense which of the animal's parts contained the best life essence. In this case, it was the liver. He also severed a pristine hoof to add to his trophy display. The rest of the carcass he he left to the carrion feeders.

"Trophy is power..." he chanted madly as he removed the slippery organ and brought it to his lips.

"Trophy is power..."

Selene
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: Faramund and Selene
"I'm sure you feel that way, now," Syr Noble responded to Elinyra's plea. He stood ready still, moving not to draw his blade nor to put it away. "But the only thing separating you from that once-man you encountered... is time. And forgive me for not wanting to wait and see what you turn into!"

A chilly gust of wind rustled through the camp, blowing drops of rain off the tree tops.

But the thing that thunked across Syr Noble's head was not rain - it was a smooth-colored acorn. Leyik's dark wings reeled overhead. It cawed once, and then descended to land at Noble's feet. The knight's visor tilted down as he looked quizzically at the bird through metal slats. It was just enough of a distraction to shift the mood.

"Noble, be still," Selene spoke up. "A woman is not a wolf. You can't just be rid of her,"

Zealous as he was, Noble was not unreasonable. Upon facing two women who were not drawing weapons on him, his shock ran cold and he lost his resolve. He let go of his grip, and the weight of the blade had it slide back into its sheath. "I'm sorry. I was only surprised," he responded, taking a more natural stance. "Please tell me sooner next time, Captain. Not everyone has your sense for these sort of things."



Miserable, soaking rain! It was no wonder that Syr Noble and the Captain had not caught up yet, Syr Vilen thought. He was crouched under a broad-leafed maple, it's low-hanging foliage turning the torrent into an annoying drip. In his hand was a miserably wet handful of previously stale bread, of which he was chewing off sticky chunks. He wasn't even hungry, but if he didn't eat it now it would go bad.

It had been foolish to scout ahead of the others, in the middle of a storm. There was no knowing when the others would be able to catch up to him, and with the waters so disquieted, he wouldn't even be able to send a message to tell them where he was.

How embarrassing, he thought. If his brash mistake didn't kill him outright, he would have to apologize to Noble when he got back, and that was just as bad an outcome.

Vilen Blackhart sunk his pointed teeth into the bread, and curled his thin tail closer round his feet. Somewhere, not far away, twigs cracked and a deer fell, shot through. A quick death, a gruesome scene covered from his notice by the veil of rain.

Elinyra Derwinthir
 
"Then you intend to slay me here, though I’ve done nothing to wrong you, because of what you believe I may one day become?" Elinyra challenged Noble, levelling her smaragdine eyes at him just as a falling acorn assaulted his helmet with a metallic tink.

Leyik broke some of the tension with its presence, Selene with words of wisdom. Elinyra had to admit that Noble’s concern was warranted, even if his reaction was questionable. Back in that dismal swamp town she’d passed through on her way here, she’d inadvertently proven that her condition had some capability of spreading beyond her body, to tragic consequence. They had every reason to consider it a threat – and therefore consider her a threat.

That left her in the uncomfortable position of not knowing whether she faced allies or another unexpected enemy. The Knights as a whole had seemed a benevolent group when she'd briefly met them at their 'Broofest', but one could never really tell true intentions when celebration muddled everyday realities.

“What do you intend now?” The question was aimed at Selene, since Noble had deferred to her and she seemed, thankfully, to have a cooler head than he did.

Selene
 
What do you intend to do now?

"Well, what is a human to do? We don't live very long no matter our condition. I think I will keep dreaming and waking, until I cannot wake any longer." Selene was cheerful enough as she stood before the stranger, untouched by the tension in the air or the grim nature of her words. "I suggest you do the same."

Syr Noble cleared his throat and shifted with a subtle clank of his armor. "Captain, I think she meant to ask what you plan to do about the current situation."

"Ah." Selene blinked pitch dark eyes at the other knight, then looked back to Elinrya. "Our duty comes first to the citizenry. We will find the one who attacked you, before he wanders to a more populated area. You are free to go, if you like. Leyik can guide you safely to your destination."

If Syr Noble was apprehensive about his Captain's decision, it did not show past the flat metal visor that obscured his expression. Selene moved to step towards where Elinrya had been laying in recovery, and bent down to pick up the splinter that still lay there. One end of the stick was pointed and bloodied, the other end was flared out in a way that resembled the fletching of an arrow.

"Do you mind if I keep this?" She asked Elinrya. Selene opened her hand, and the splinter continued to hover above her palm, held by some invisible force. The veins on the back of her hand popped, and the splinter's surface rippled in concert. Wood contorted into sinewy ribbons, like muscle on bone, and came undone into several smaller strands. Her expression was neutral as she watched the strands slowly weave themselves into the shape of a ball. "It may prove useful."

Elinyra Derwinthir
 
"Captain, I think she meant to ask what you plan to do about the current situation," Syr Noble had suggested.

Elinyra nodded to him in affirmation that his interpretation was correct. It gladdened her to hear that the knights would pursue that twisted creature and take care of it. Something as aggressive as that would certainly pose a threat to other travellers. She wanted to offer her help, but she knew she was in no shape to fight it again just yet. Nor, to her chagrin, to continue her journey.

"It is good to see a protectorate, as it were, in this area. These woods certainly seem to live up to the local fables. And I appreciate the offer, Captain. I was making for the Eldyr tree, although I fear I will not make it so far in this state. I need some time to recover first."

Elinyra watched Selene pick up the organic arrow and form it through some magic into a ball. Good riddance to it. "If it will help with your investigation, you are welcome to it."

"You seem to have a good lay of the land. Is there a village or inn nearby? Or do you know of a healer that works locally?" she asked the two of them. She could possibly heal a bit of her wound herself, but it was far less efficient and exhausting to use one's own life energy for the task.

"The sooner I have this wound fully mended, the sooner I can take the reason for your concern far away from the townsfolk," she added with an expressionless look at Syr Noble.

Selene
 
I was making for the Eldyr tree, although I fear I will not make it so far in this state. I need some time to recover first."

"You mean to make for the Eldyr Tree!?" Syr Noble started up in surprise. There was no anger in his voice, like there had been before. Instead he seemed almost afraid, though if it was for the druid or against her was not clear. "That is a sacred place, and everything will be against you." Leyik, still hopping around at Noble's feet, croaked deep and low in its throat, as if in agreement. "Our own knights dare not ---"

"Enough! Noble, you have no idea what you are talking about."
Selene said. Scorn was not common in her voice, but it was there now, and Syr Noble seemed to be taken aback by her abruptness. She twisted her wrist, and the ball of blighted wood that still hovered in her palm rearranged itself once again. It wrapped around her wrist in a simple hoop. There it would stay, inert.

Selene stepped forward, passing by the knight completely, and stood face-to-face with the druid from another wood.

"Druid Elinyra, you are suffering. I felt a bit of it when I pulled that splinter from your side. This curse I recognize, because I carry a similar darkness in mine own heart." Her gaze softened, in empathy, or perhaps remorse. She touched a hand to her chest, and closed her eyes. "Because of its nature, your wound is not something that a common healer can fix, and time will heal it slowly."

Opening darklit eyes, Selene smiled then, a brash and unyeilding flash of teeth in a otherwise serene face. "But luckily, I am not an ordinary healer."

Palm held upward, she offered a hand to the other woman. "Give me your hand, and I will lend you some of my strength. It will serve you well in these woods, though I do not know if it will carry you as far as you seek."

Elinyra Derwinthir
 
What was she seeking, exactly? An answer, or a salve? Elinyra still wasn't sure herself. Only that it seemed this was the course, for better or for worse. Inside she was just as afraid as Syr Noble was. Of the blight. Of her potential future.

She took Selene's hand with her good hand and smiled gratefully. It was as much an act of solidarity as it was for need of the offered help. She found that she believed Selene's words. There was a darkness about her- about them both. Maybe it was overly optimistic to believe that darkness could be used for good, but she was going to allow herself that optimism if others could too.

"Thank you. I will not forget the aid you've given me today."

She would accept the power needed to continue on her way, though she knew she’d have to be a lot more careful. She’d need to move in stealth to avoid the dangers of this troubled forest, to sleep little and watch her back always. Who knew what other dangers were lurking in these blighted lands.

-------------​

A shadow of a memory visited him again: the warm spring sun shining on a quaint cottage nestled in a small meadow-turned-garden. Between the home and a row of lilacs, the most beautiful woman in Ulfar’s world was waiting. On her shoulders, she was holding the most perfect little girl in the world so she could see over the bushes.

“Papa!” the young girl called ecstatically and waved her hands as soon as she saw Ulfar walking up the road.

Papa...” The girl’s voice faded into the drone of rain. The faint scent of lilacs died beneath the lingering odor of deer blood. The tattered memory was unravelling more each time the ghosts appeared in the Hunter’s mind. He couldn’t quite recognize the cottage in the meadow. He couldn’t quite remember who Ulfar was. He had to remind himself sometimes that the truest Hunter never strayed from the hunt.

He absent-mindedly stroked a tuft of a mountain lion’s tail that adorned the wooden growths sprouting from his left side, gathering the guile and stealth of its former owner into himself. He might need some extra powers for stalking this prey. Oh, but he enjoyed the challenge as much as the trophy.

The elf had surprised him with her ease of control over the gift. There had been others who’d been similarly gifted, but they were weak - too weak to be allowed to survive. The Hunter had taken them. With each kill he felt himself growing stronger, more attuned to his own gift. He felt that the giver was pleased, and would only reward him with more power. Perhaps even enough to leave the confines of these woods and hunt in the lands beyond.

He would kill that elf and make her power his own. He just had to find the right moment to draw her into his trap.

Selene
 
  • Cthuulove
Reactions: Selene
The druid accepted her offer of aid, and gave Selene her hand. Carefully, she twisted Elinrya's hand so that the elf's palm faced upwards. With her other hand, Selene took her thumb and traced a shape into Elinrya's palm, a sigil of life that at first did not show up. Then, it began to glow white, as Selene channeled her own anima through the single point of connection. The healing mana pooled there in their hands, and then, all at once, it turned to flood.

It would feel like being submerged in mountain water. The urge to gasp as coldness stole the air from lungs. Sounds became muffled, far away, replaced by the rush and clatter of river waves. After the plunging submersion, came stillness. The campfire fizzled out in a fit of crackling steam. The cloak of Anathaeum, still tied to branches above their heads, stopped snapping in the wind. Light filtered down from between the leaves in thin ribbons. And if one looked out in the distance, they could the ghostly form of silver-scaled fish, swimming between the tree trunks.

It was a spell that required participation. All Elinrya would need to do to stop the feeling was to pull her hand away. But if she did not, she would find that the cold lifted the weariness from her bones, and numbed the pain in her injured side.



d1fslfx-5da11f23-7742-4db2-81cc-a3143b24f54e.jpg"Well, better get a move on," Syr Vilen sighed out. He shook the raindrops off his cloak, put his things back into his pack, and stood. He could try to backtrack and find the Captain and Noble again, or he could move forward to the next beacon. The decision hadn't been made yet, as he plodded forward, brashly and with a certain amount of misery. It wasn't raining anymore, but everything was still wet. It made his skin itch, and he knew his hair must be frizzing something fierce.

Then, came the smell of blood and the musk of a deer, mixed with the fresh rain. Shifting into alertness, Syr Vilen ducked low, moving with care through the underbrush. In a small clearing, a gruesome scene was revealed to him. Red blood slick on the leaves, entrails strewn about, and at the center of the carnage the corpse of a deer. No signs of movement in the clearing.

Syr Vilen walked towards the mess, knelt down next to the corpse. The deer looked half-eaten, but the wounds were not made by tooth or claw - instead, clean knife cuts splayed opened the belly, and severed the ball of a joint with precision that marked intelligence. But the best meat was left untouched, and the deer still had its skin.

"Neither beast nor hunter," Vilen muttered to himself. He touched a hand lightly against the deer's neck, stiff with rigor. "What did this to you?"
 
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Elinyra Derwinthir
Elinyra did not pull away from Selene's spell. Instead, she took in the sensations; the sudden cold of an ethereal river that swirled all around her, making her shiver subconsciously. The solace that followed. Silvery scales of a waking dream glinted in the emerging sunlight.

The storm had passed. The druid's weariness and pain seemed to pass with it. The cold that remained in the magic's wake was bracing, awe-inspiring. Elinyra inhaled deeply and was relieved to find that she couldn't feel her wound tearing at her. Even the one in her hand was silent.

"That was powerful magic. Thank you again," she said to Selene and turned away to pick up her pack. With the captain's added life energy, she could go on, but she knew a question would continue to nag at her if she didn't ask here and now.

"You said you carry a similar curse?" She asked, turning back to face the captain after hoisting the linen pack over her shoulders. "Forgive me a personal question, but... where did yours come from?"

Curses, blights, monsters, shadows... they were all becoming too familiar. Separate, and yet always connected by the fine strands of fate.

------------------
The clearing was completely silent as Syr Vilen investigated the gruesome scene. The recent rain had softened the soil around the deer's carcass enough to see depressions where something had knelt not long ago.

Syr Vilen might notice a set of humanoid tracks in the mud and damp earth, though if he chose to follow them he'd find them ending at the base of an old pine tree. It seemed that whatever had killed the deer climbed this tree afterwards - though there was no sign of it in the branches or anywhere around; only a tuft of black and white hair that had been smashed into one of the prints.

Selene
 
"Forgive me a personal question, but... where did yours come from?"

Selene did not answer right away. Instinctively, one of her hands came up and curled around her midsection, fingers resting against her right side. “Noble, could you get our things ready? We’ll be going soon.”

“Of course, Captain,”
the knight responded dutifully, though the way he hesitated made it seem as if he wanted to say more. He thought better of it, and turned to untie his cloak from the branches where it had sheltered Elinyra from the rain.

Motioning for the druid to follow, Selene walked the short distance to the stream that ran beside the encampment. The rain was beginning to drizzle again, lighter than before. The stream’s surface rippled with the beat of fat drops, patterns quickly swallowed up by the currents below. When Noble seemed well distracted, Selene finally spoke.

"I killed my family, at the behest of a river god." she admitted, eyes trained on the water below.

“North of here, there is a tributary of the Wda river, where a beast-god lives. Its name is Segale of the Long Branch, and when I found it, it was dripping with corruption. A miserable thing, hellbent on destroying the people who hurt it, hundreds of years ago. My people. I chose to free Segale, and deliver its retribution." Selene's voice was calm, and her movements stilled. No malice emanated from her, but she seemed to have a hard time drawing up the story, unsure of the details. As if the words she spoke were unfamiliar to her, not often recited. "But, hundreds of years of pain and anger are not so easily washed away. That corruption lives on inside of me... On days like this, I feel it more strongly. Segale's wrath won’t even let me mourn my family. I want to drown everything that walks on land, and sullies the water."

A flash of mirth crossed Selene's features, her face splitting into a grin. She tilted her head upwards, and felt the splatter of rain against her face.

"But, that's one good about being a human. We don't have to give a shit about what gods think." She raised a hand out towards the stream. A small burst of force pulsed as she spread her fingers, and the rain stopped, at least around them. A keen eye could see that the rain was falling in more solid sheets some yards away, like it was rolling off a round surface above their heads and gathering at invisible eaves. "And I don't have to stand in the rain."

Black eyes, all depth and no sclera, looked to the druid. “I hope the same is true for you, Elinyra of Falwood. I hope your gods give you a choice.”

Elinyra Derwinthir
 
Elinyra listened intently to Selene's story without judgment, except to consider the way she spoke of her past. It reminded Elinyra of someone remembering some faraway dream, or recalling a piece of ancient history. Perhaps that was all it was now, whether by a god's will or simply the cold machinations of time.

"That is a terrible burden to bear. I am sorry." It didn't seem nearly enough, but it was all she could think of to say as they stood looking at the running water that bubbled up as the rain hit the surface. Holding so much anger inside without falling victim to it must have been a feat of amazing willpower. Not many could contain the wrath of a powerful spirit.

But, that's one good about being a human. We don't have to give a shit about what gods think.

The druid smiled wryly, considering these words as the rain parted around them at Selene's behest. She'd been raised not to worship gods, but to revere and ally with the spirits that existed all around them. Her travels had opened her eyes to the naivety of her circle's teachings. Not all those claiming to be allies could be trusted, especially beings that had little understanding or care for the meaning of mortality. Garrod's demon used him as a plaything. Selene's wrathful god had destroyed her family. Elinyra was certain that whatever had inflicted this corruption on her had equally dark intentions. Perhaps there was an option to simply... not listen to them.

She stared for a thoughtful moment at the trail that meandered deeper into the woods, then back into Selene's dark eyes. "Perhaps they have given me a choice. I can continue on this path with a tiny hope of finding some answer at the Eldyr tree, or I can share what I've learned of this curse and maybe we can help each other.

"That creature that injured me said it would return, and I have a feeling that we are connected by the same sort of corruption," she admitted, thankful that Syr Noble wasn't near enough to hear her confirm some of his suspicions.

Selene
 
A certain kind of understanding seemed to settle between the two women. Perhaps not camaraderie, but something more practical. Selene listened with a mild expression as the druid spoke more freely of her own curse.

"I can't advise you on the right choice," she responded. "But I can share all that I know about the corruption of the Valen Wilds. And if there is something out there that disturbs these woods, it will have to deal with me."



Syr Remme Noble was done packing their things, but his Captain wasn't done with whatever she was doing. He knew well enough to give her some privacy. So he stood watch while the Dusk Captain spoke to the strange elf. He stood some ways away on the other side of the encampment, close enough to the tall pines that water dripped down from the fat-needled branches onto him. One coincidentally aimed drop snuck between the slats of his visor and melted with his eye. He blinked it away.

Behind him, Remme heard a crackling sound. He reeled round, ready to draw steel, but then was met with a familiar sight. Syr Blackhart - squatting right in the middle of the dying fire, a miserable look cast across his brow. Between thumb and forefinger, he held an ember.

"Noble, I've had the most terrible morning," he said, dark red eyes gazing mournfully at the bit of hot coal. "Why'd you light a fire? If I can trail the smoke, then whatever else can too."

"We had to,"
Remme responded. He came to sit next to the fire pit - not in it, like the maddened Blackhart. "The Captain couldn't get warm again after healing that woman over there." He nodded his helmeted head towards the stream where the two women stood, then looked back to his Dusk compatriot. "Besides, I don't think many other people are as keen on fire as you are."

Clearly not listening to him, Blackhart blew the ash off the ember in his hand. He raised his hand to pop it into his mouth. Remme startled up in concern, halfheartedly raising a gauntlet in protest. "Hey, don't eat that --!"

"Waf do you mean?"
the ash demon asked through a cheekful of ember.

Elinyra Derwinthir
 
But I can share all that I know about the corruption of the Valen Wilds. And if there is something out there that disturbs these woods, it will have to deal with me.

"I'm certain that would be helpful. I'm fully willing to help you stop it, however I can." She felt a bit safer for the company, at least until she turned towards the remains of the camp and saw a crouched figure in the smoldering fire. He was biting a piece of charcoal.

"A friend of yours?" she asked Selene once she'd gotten past her initial shock.

Selene