Fable - Ask The Withering Grove

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Vaer Nhimei

High Lord of the Winter Court
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Not all faerie business happened deep in the faewilds, far from the sight of mortal eyes. Every day, all across Arethil, the secret lives of the fae unfolded just beyond the veil of glamour, right underfoot of mortals from Amol-Kalit to the Eretejva Tundra. Very few were aware that the fae had long permeated their mortal societies. Some dealt in spells, trinkets, and mild mischief. Some lived lives beside their chosen partners, content to a simple life far from the judging eyes of Court and peers. Some built empires on the back of mortals who would never be wise to their machinations.

The village of Eslare was just as unsuspecting. Tucked away in the Allir Reach, it was neither remote nor conveniently close to any major routes. Life in the village was simple and its families had subsisted on a thriving mulberry grove and silk farming for generations. Eslare was a quiet, peaceful place.

Lately, however, it was not so peaceful. First had come the strange wasting sickness in the mulberry trees and the surrounding forest. They had managed it, cutting down and burning the diseased trees. But a week later, another corner of the grove began to waste away. Then the farmers who had worked in the orchard had fallen ill. Two had died -- had gone pale and gaunt and withered away to nothing in a matter of days. The village had no healer and the farmers had never encountered a disease such as this one.

So they had summoned the owner of the mulberry orchard and silk farm, Master Forannir. A foreign merchant, he came from his home somewhere in the Spine to oversee their emergency.

Vaer arrived the day following the urgent letter from Eslare. Of course, he wore a glamour to disguise his unique coloration and fae heritage. He appeared as a tall elf with dark skin, black hair, and brown eyes. Well-dressed and his alias well-rehearsed, he met with the estate manager and went over the details of the recent events. They looked at maps and made some calculations before they left for Master Forannir to see the damages for himself.

He had sent for a healer from a neighboring city to come assess the ill and weak, though they had yet to arrive. Vaer quietly performed his own magicks, but he was no healer; this was beyond his very basic knowledge of field medicine on the Hunt. Three appeared to be on death’s door, two were just today bedridden, and four others were showing early symptoms. A quarter of Eslare’s population was afflicted in less than a week.

Unable to help the sick, he and the manager mounted their horses and rode out to investigate the withering grove.
 
Occasionally some of the farmer's children uttered spotting a unicorn within the Mullberry grove. But the elders had little patience for such matters when their lifeblood was dying from a mysterious disease. Even less so when this 'unicorn' turned out to be a rugged, stray, white goat.

But the truth was seldom visible to those that wanted not to see it. Only the magically inclined or innocent and pure could see the fey beast for what it truly was.
The woods were its domain, so spotting this beast so far from home was disconcerting. Was it the plight of the woods that drove it out here, or rather its inquisitive nature?

The unicorn walked between the mulberry rows. Many trees were missing from their place, hastily cut down and removed to prevent the spread. But even this effort proved to amount to little.
With his horn, he touched each fallen trunk, but he could hear nothing from the roots. They too were dead long before the trees were cut down.
Before moving to the live ones, his ears twitched from hearing the footsteps of a horse. He craned his head back to observe who had just come.
 
How unexpected...

Darkensand had heard... rumors that one of his written Works had found it's way to a Village that had gone by the name of Eslare.

How it supposedly landed there or to be more specific, why a rumor regarding a unique Book came up with such a remote and difficult to find Village, is beyond his understanding.

He did however only expect to get his hands on a less qualitive book, albeit true he has yet to reach Eslare and confirm his suspicion, the rumor and his work wasn't the cause of his surprise.

He crossed the path of two individuals riding on horses.

The surprising part was however neither that the elf was tryibg to hide that he had some kind of connection to a fae nor the presence of a magical Being that seemed to observe them, No.

In fact the one thing that truly surprised him, was that said Elf, was affected by a most curious Affliction.

He could have never guessed to come across such a strange Affliction.

Even less one, that would slowly drain the Life Force of it's Bearer.

It was not the Existence of the Affliction itself that surprised him however.

He had in his long life seen quite a few Beings that dabbled in Necromancy use such or similar methods.

No there were two things that surprised him more, first that whatever caused the Affliction created one which was complex in regards to breaching it and unless he himself would be affected by it directly, it would be even for him difficult to dispel it, without risking the Death of the afflicted.

The second curiosity was, that he either couldn't pinpoint where the Life Force was exactly transferred to or for unknown reason, the Affliction was only meant to take and disperse the Life Force.

Incredible unusual, for what reason one would have to use such a complex Affliction, just to in the end kill something?

Whatever the reason, Darkensand was intrigued, incredible so.

Enough for him to decide to offer his assistance in finding it's Cause.

"My good Sers, if I may interrupt your travels for but a brief moment.

May I assume that you are in search of a cure or the Cause for an Affliction?

I may be able to assist you in that Quest of yours, if you would allow.

If you question my Intentions, just be aware that I am a Scholar and Collector of Knowledge and that Information over your Affliction certainly is of great interest to me."
 
They were engaged in light conversation as they rode together. Vaer listened to the recent accounts, taking a professional interest in the wellbeing of his business and its employees, but he wasn’t so engrossed that he didn’t catch the scent of fae on the wind. Nothing in his demeanor changed from one moment to the next, though his glamoured eyes slipped away from the manager to the mulberry grove beyond.

The nose of a black shuck never lied, and that was most certainly the scent of a unicorn. He’d only encountered one other in his lifetime, and that had only been a matter of tragedy and Hunt involvement. This was a living, breathing unicorn. What in the gods’ name was a unicorn doing near the blighted woods?

He began to wonder if he should perhaps find a reason for the man to go back alone. A man in his later years, he doubted he met the criteria to see it for what it truly was, and Vaer wasn’t interested in explaining why he would be talking to a horse.

A dilemma he would not have to puzzle further, because a traveler appeared on the road ahead of them. Any curiosity he had regarding the unicorn vanished. Even a weanling shuck could have detected the magical aura around the individual, and it took nothing at all to detect the iron mask they wore -- a natural deterrent and affront to any fae. Vaer knew him for what he was as quickly as he'd known the unicorn: a lich. He'd known many creatures the mortal world often deemed monsters. He was one himself.

Nevertheless, he approached cautiously. As they neared him, the lich introduced himself kindly, and Vaer matched it with equal respect and hospitality.

“Good day, traveler. How can I help you?” He did not dismount, but he inclined his head politely.

Being fae, he was no stranger to the odd and inquisitive. Nor was he afraid of harm by much of anything. This one was interested in the plagued grove. By the nature of the query and the individual requesting to join them, this was not panning out to be a simple case of diseased trees or parasites. He nodded succinctly.

“We are, and you may accompany us. Your insight on such matters will be highly valued.” The very careful words of a faerie. He turned to his manager. “It would appear that this may be even more dangerous than I first imagined. Take my horse and return to the village. When I return, we can discuss future measures.”

The black shuck dismounted and handed his horse’s reins to the manager. The human man looked a little confused, but conceded without argument. He bowed in the saddle, bid farewell to both master and traveler, and departed. Vaer watched him go until he was certain he was out of earshot before turning back to the newcomer.

“You may call me Master Forannir. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He bowed his head once more, a little more than was likely due out of respect to the stranger. “Come. Let us walk together.”

Vaer extended a hand to indicate the path. Beneath the glamour -- which he fully expected the lich could see right through -- his skin was the color of charcoal and his black hair was cropped short. The dull senses of a human couldn’t perceive his scent, so he had not tried to disguise it. Magick and the distinct scent of dog clung to him. For now, he kept a polite but healthy distance, the tang of iron making his teeth ring softly with warning.

“I have not yet had the opportunity to see the afflicted grove myself,” he began as they set down the path together. Vaer got straight to business. “I can smell magic on the wind, but it is not one that I am familiar with. My manager has informed me that it is a blight of the trees, and yet a number of the humans residing here have also fallen ill and perished.” His eyes slid from the path to the lich. “I am not well versed in plagues of the magical variety. Might it be something that you are familiar with?”

They were crossing the grassy threshold from road to grove and stepping into the lines of mulberry. Vaer allowed his gaze to stray in search of their yet unseen companion. No doubt it was as aware of them as he was of it.
 
"I would not necessarily say that I am familiar with this particular Affliction, at least not on a more advanced level.

However I very well am familiar with what this Affliction ist based upon, or at least on which principle.

To be mor clear, while I suspect it to be the work of Necromancy, it could originate in another way that I am not privy to."


Darkensand could simply not fully exclude the Possibilty, that the Affliction was not created by of other Magic or even of more or less natural Creation, without direct involvement of Magic.

That made it even harder to gauge the success chance of removing on others without complications.

"As for how it works on a fundamental Level, it is quite simple actually.

Whatever placed the Affliction upon it's Bearer eats up the Bearers own Life Force and either transfers it back to it's Creator or just disperses the Life Force.

The former is more likely, yet even I can not feel where the Life Force is transferred to which does not mean it could not be hidden, but it makes it more likely that the Life Force is being dispersed.

As for why, I had to say I am as clueless as you.

Now another little Detail you should know, I regret to inform you, that said Affliction has already taken hold of you.

While I know how this Affliction works ubless it is cast or placed upon myself, I cannot guarantee to dispel it from another without killing them in the Process.

Whatever created it, certainly is quite adept, for the Complexity of the Affliction is even for me, a first.

That is all I can currently tell you about the Affliction, without acquiring Information about what exactly created it."


He halted and pointed in the Direction of their unkown Observer.

"Now back to other matters, can I assume that our little Observer is part of your Entourage?"

Vaer Nhimei
Niðþern
 
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His little furred ears twitched and his attentive eyes gazed through the grove. His poise, like a greyhound's, was still and delicate.

He could not see far from the dying green of the still live Mulberry trees, yet his sense reached as far as his aura could be sensed. He would have rather tried to commune with the other plants that still lived, but the presence of these other people, who he could now sense as magical in nature too proved of more immediate importance.
Especially the one.

The closer they came, the more distinct the auras became, with a cold jolt passing through the unicorn's horn and spine, he knew there was even more foul magic afloat.
Of course, unicorns were the symbols of immaculate purity and innocence. Rare and few among the world, they often were prey to greater powers with most evil intent.
His first instinct was always to outroot such evil in the world. Not the evil of a thief or the evil of nature's cruelty, such as nature's law of might makes right.
But the dark marked magics that plagued this grove and the stranger who bore a strong whiff of death upon his bone.
It was an abomination of life and he pointed at him.


The unicorn froze still among the corrupted section of the grove.

Darkensand Vaer Nhimei
 
Vaer listened with a pleasant, blank expression. Nothing crossed the elven face he wore or the true one veiled beneath it, but he watched the lich as he spoke with an apparent interest. Something was feeding on the vitality of his mulberry grove and its inhabitants? And it was already attempting to latch onto him? His mouth twitched in the slightest suggestion of a frown.

“I hope, then, that you like a challenge.”
Vaer certainly did. He was now even more interested in finding the soucre of this problem.

Regarding their guest, Vaer did smile. His gaze broke away from the lich.

“Ah, yes. It appears I have a second unexpected guest in my grove. Its aid would be invaluable, however,” he said quite obviously to the trees ahead. The magic of unicorns was well known in all cultures. Vaer would not turn away any aid he could find in this endeavor.

The lane was straight and thin, following the neatly cultivated row of mulberry trees. The leaves at this time of the year were rich and vibrant, fluttering in the warm breeze. It was beautiful here, but something was amiss. It was also silent. No birds sang. No insects clicked. No small creatures foraged. Even the wind felt muted.

Vaer only stopped as they came upon the threshold of the afflicted grove. The color had been drained from everything in the necrotic path of the blight, leaving the swath of forest an ashen gray. He bent, unafraid, to pick up a leaf. It crumbled in his fingers. He made a sound of displeasure and straightened to inspect the dust on his fingers. He rubbed the ash away and his eyes scanned the grove -- partly to survey the damages and begin investigating its source, but also to perhaps catch sight of his second guest.
 
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