Blood in the Wood

[Devonus]

(The following events occur the night immediately after "Red Sentinels: The Lone Soldiers Approach" (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?28635-Red-Sentinels-The-Lone-Soldier-s-Approach-Tarot-Hierarchy) . Closed to Devonus and Vincent, Some bunnying of other tarot members may occur, and they may be allowed to participate in the thread later)

In a solitary glade miles away, beneath the boughs of my ancient brother the crimson oak where I lay, It came upon me. An ancient groan of agony, a scream of rage, it echoed of centuries spent alone, peaceful, wrought to an unjust end. My eyes shot open as I lay beneath the earth, the great agony of the forest washing over me in torrents, the leaves whispering of fallen lumber, of brothers lost to the tide of humanity. So great was their anguish, their hate, to reach even my ears, ears that had long lost the favor of the wood.

Images flash in my mind as the sorrowful sonata of the wood floods over me, the last vestige of memory escaping whatever had fell to cause the forest such agony. It whispered of lives past, of decades spent in peaceful slumber, a shelter to the red denizens of the forest. It spoke of the wild life that called its branches and boughs home, of birds that rested their wings on its outstretched peaceful hands, of squirrels that scurried along its branches, feasting upon its bountiful harvest of acorns.

It roared of its pain, of its silent felling just a day before, sustained by magics as it was warped and bent from its purpose, a shadow of white wings fluttered across my conscious as the oaks torment begins.. The sound of cracking wood echoes in my ears, the pain of bones broken, mended, then broken again pulsed through my limbs again and again, till finally it ended. A small cry of joy as it experienced something new wrought by all that pain, of freedom, of movement, of something only the ancient treants of the forest experienced. Then that joy vanished, lost in silent dread as unseen chains bound the creature, forced it to be still, an ancient tree brother, bent to another's will.

The flash of steel on bark, of the fruitless carvings etched into its skin. Of blood, bitter, tasteless to the tree brother soaking into it. Cries of fear and hate carried on the crimson torrent into the creatures soul, paining it as its own branches wrought unjust misery upon creatures it held no ill will for. A fleeting image of another man, another victim, spear held in righteous rage, piercing its hard bark. The searing pain of defeat and death, accompanied by the solace of peace from an existence it was never suppose to know.

So much agony wrought in but a days time, carelessly used and brought to its humble knees by the will of thoughtless beings. Its last thoughts of the forest it would once again join, joy at its freedom... but others still stood, others who had shared its fate, felt its pain. Those pure white wings still held chains around its brethren's fates.

Beast... Defiler... death... destroy

These last few words echo in my mind as the cries of anguish come to an end. A silent plea from the forest that cursed my existence and attentions. My once blue eyes burning crimson red as the rage of the woods found a hearth within my dead heart. The land was wounded, their rage having no other outlet left to their defense, they reach for me. Who was I to deny them, I who so longed for what was lost, for the forests love that for so long I was denied. Lindequalme begged for blood, it once again sang the chorus of death. Tonight, it would have it.

As the poor golem's wrecked body lay shattered about the earth, I once again returned to my slumber beneath it. Beside me under the ground, a soft growl escapes the lips of my hulking canine companion, his own dreams of the hunt to come mingling with mine. Dreams of white feathers died red and black with soot and blood danced behind my scarlet eyes. The scent of sweat and fear, of terror past wrought beneath the crimson arms of the red forest mingling with the dreams of the hunt yet to come. A soft smile crosses my lips as I slumber, tonight would be a good night.

[Cards of Fate]

Vincent had been in his room when the news came in the form of a deceptively pure looking young child. "Hey Viiiiiince..." the young man said stretching the Hierophant's name in an attempt to sound endearing. However his words were on deaf ears. Vincent was not sitting in that room with him but was instead lost in the ancient texts in his hands. The youth grinned slightly, his sapphire orbs glinted with mischievous intentions as he snuck up behind the unawares scholar quietly. Once in position the youth chuckled "HEY VINCE!" he roared in the the poor scholars ear. "ACK!" Vincent found himself flinching, his book launched upwards into the air. It took Vincent a matter of seconds to realize who his aggressor was.

"IODER YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" The scholar roared rushing out of his chair in an instant to chase the already long gone blond haired youth. "Get back here you son of a..." Vincent roared as he rushed out of his room only to be met with a rather brutish looking man instead. "Ack!" Vincent exclaimed falling back on his ass. "Why the fuck did you shape change into the bartender?" He asked as the man loomed over him. "Because it scared you," the man said in the same childlike voice Ioder had used just moments before.

"It did not scare me!" Vincent exclaimed rather weakly. The man’s form melted and shrank back down into the youth once more and Ioder chuckled as he extended a hand to his befriend. "By the way the boss lady needs you." the youth said pulling Vincent to his feet. "Leona needs me? At this hour?" Vincent asked. "What for?" he continued glaring down at the youth. "I may have...gotten one of the tree golems destroyed..." Ioder confessed looking sheepishly at his feet.

"Fuck me," Vincent spat with an exasperated sigh. He ruffled his friend's hair and began the dreaded walk to Leona's room. It was possibly one of the most gut wrenching feelings that he had ever experienced. The hallways of the uppermost floor in the Tarot Hierarchy were starting to look more lived in and less ancient catacomb every day. Some skilled carpenters had begun to put hardwood floors down as opposed to the uneven wooden ones that had been there before, and lighting had evolved from bare torches attached to the wall to oil lanterns. However, even after fighting bandits and getting in bar brawls with a gruff mercenary, Leona was hands down the scariest thing about Althanas.

He found the door to her room after stumbling around for a bit, the layout of the House of Cards was tricky and he seldom left his chambers, and took a deep breath. He raised his hand to knock and the door opened to reveal the mysterious Leona Stevvains in the middle of brushing her teeth. "I could haff sworn I tok ma tea with three sugahs..." she grunted ushering Vincent inside. "What does that have to..."

"Qustons Vinth" she the seer grunted, mouth clogged with some form of foam. She walked across the un-decorated room to a simple basin and spat. "You know the rules." She said gesturing to a seat by her coffee table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room aside from a bed. Sitting down Vincent took a deep breath, luckily his boss hadn't swatted him for asking a stupid question.

"What can I do for you Leona." Vincent said as he tried not to stare at his boss. She was wearing a black tank top and a pair of incredibly short gym shorts, the last vestiges of her clothes from earth, and left just enough to the imagination for Vincent to be nervous about.

"Earlier today one of our golems broke." Leona said plainly, avoiding eye contact as she drummed her fingers in a very precise manner. "I believe it was number four if I recall." she said almost boredly.

"NOT TOBIAS!" Vincent exclaimed with a panicked look on his face. "He was my favorite!"

"Yes Tobias," Leona replied scowling at her silly underling. "I need you to go get his broken core and fix it for me."

"Sure thing boss!" Vince said quickly rising to his feet.

"It's the middle of the night Vince." Leona added.

The Hierophant paused for a moment, his body tense. "Like how late at night are we talking?" Vincent asked turning hesitantly back to his boss.

"It’s the dead of night," Leona said sighing. She rose to her feet and went to a small chest by her bed and fished through it for a moment before pulling out a scarlet cloak and flinging it at Vincent. "Wear this or you'll catch your death in a cold." She grunted dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

"Two questions," Vincent asked catching the cloak. "A, do I look like little red riding hood to you?" he asked putting it on. "And B, if it's the dead of night shouldn't you send someone else with me?" he asked. "The Red Forest is dangerous enough during the day, I can't imagine it's any safer in the dead of night, especially for a bookworm like me."

"What's a matter?" Leona countered. "Afraid of the Big. Bad. Wolf?" a chuckled escaped from her lips, the first time Vincent had ever heard the sound before. He gritted his teeth and left the room.

...

Fucking Leona and her fucked up sense of humor... Vincent growled to himself as he climbed the ladder that led to the surface. He paused as he neared the top, and carefully poked his head out the top like a timid rabbit leaving it's warren for the first time. Seeing the progenitor of the tree golems, a large pile of animated leaves affectionately named Big Bertha, sleeping peacefully over the hole Vincent swallowed his fear and climbed to the surface. A cold gust of wind blew across the forest, slicing through Vincent.

"Shit its cold," Vincent spat between gritted teeth. "I’m glad I have this cloak now..." he continued as he walked forward into the moonlit clearing. Just at the edge was the shattered remains of Tobias, or as Leona would so rudely call him, tree golem number four. This would be easy, all he had to do was go grab the core and walk back, no problems at all.

[Devonus]

On many a night such as this, I often awoke from my slumber with little purpose, no desire remaining to seek out the adventures of the moonlit eve as I once did when I was younger. It was a curse not uncommon to my kind, for their purpose, their reason, to dissipate in the decades following their re-birth. Some fell to madness, raving lunatics who roamed the night with twisted thoughts and psychotic intentions. Others still, simply gave up, submitting themselves to the suns unforgiving rays and disappearing alone on the dawn breeze as smoke and ash. Then there were those who simply slumbered, awaiting a call that may never come, to serve a purpose they may never know.

I had only weeks before awoken from such a slumber, my will to fight broken as my battered body lay beneath the earth. I had savagely ripped myself from my grave, what once had been a tall figure, bright blonde hair glimmering in the moon, strong jaw and half pointed ears defined in the shadows they cast proudly of my half elf heritage, had lay broken and hunched, my face sallow with decay, limbs and bones visible beneath taught skin. No blue in those eyes, sunken and burning red with a thirst seeming unquenchable. I had fed well since then however, my tall frame now stood straight, my muscles as defined as the day they died, not large, but honed from years spent within the cursed forest.

But when I had awoken, there had been no great call, no great purpose awaiting me as I pulled myself from my ground that. Just a deeply seated hunger from years below that begged to be sated, and memories of things long lost.

A soft cold tongue laps at my hand as I in think in the nether of my mind. Its small comfort bringing me back from that inward looking depth of despair that had probably left me buried so long. Perhaps that cold tongue, those dark blue intelligent eyes that so mirrored my own, was my purpose. Agar the Jarg'Un , savage wolf cloaked in crimson red, a proud predator of the red forest, whose pack was so long ago lost, looked at me with love. I was his pack now, I was his alpha to defend, to follow, to fight for. And perhaps because I was his purpose, it gave me my own...

The leaves rustle angrily on the cold night air, whispering of rage. They bring my mind away from my own selfish thoughts, and my mind turns to the purpose for tonight. My reason to survive may be lost on most nights, but tonight I knew what called me from my slumber, what drove my cursed existence out into the forest I so loved. The Red branches of the oak and birch brothers around me seemed to drive me on, urging me into action. With a quick brush of my hand along Agar's head, a comfort that I did not seek vengeance alone, I set off into the woods, pressing towards where the roar of the forest had rippled from before. Where wood had shattered and now lay dead upon the forest floor.

The forest grew silent in my passage. The woods grew silent with fear as my companion and I pushed inward. Even the ruilserk vines paid heed to my anger as I passed, self serving creatures that they were they usually cared not for my tainted status as the rest of the wood usually did. But it was not I they feared, for though the creature of the wood lay silent, the wood itself did not. They groaned in anger as they shivered in pain. A thousand lost voices whispering in the silent night upon breezes carrying the chill of death. The scar was fresh, but a few minutes old to the life of a tree, and it blazed as hot as the coals that now found fire within my eyes.

And so they guided me, to that place, forgotten in time, where the brother oak had fallen that day. Keen crimson eyes surveying the shattered remains as my nails dug into my own flesh, fist balled in anger. The scent of stale death still hung in the air, the crimson grass of the forest stained darker still by blood not long spilled. All around the small clearing the woods leaned in, outreached hands to a brother dead and broken for some other's purpose. They despaired that he lay beyond their reach, images flashing through my mind of white wings amongst broken bodies, of spears buried in wooden breasts. They had seen their proud brothers fall, and the crimson veined leaves whispered his name.

Lod'alquin

But his fall was not enough, still now his desecration was not complete. His sap mingled with the blood of mortals, his broken form spent, and yet now, someone else approaches, from where I know not, his purpose unknown, but his destination clear, red cloak billowing behind him as he makes way for the broken oak golem.

I place my hand against Agars back as we crouch masked in the wood, his own eyes mirroring mine as they narrow and trace the persons path, molten lava contained by thin corneas. Our breath slows, then stops, an unnecessary, but hard to break, habit. Our body grows still as stone after lifting the cloak over my platinum blond hair, the moonlights sheen disappearing beneath an elks dead shadow.

We are watching, you in the red hood. You should have know, this is our red wood

[Cards of Fate]

The wind howled as Vincent trudged forward, invisible hands tearing at his cloak as he approached the shattered corpse of the golem. These creatures had been made with one purpose in mind, to protect the House of Cards from any of the denizens that dwelt within the deadly red forest. Whatever had destroyed Tobias must have been very strong, Vincent found himself thinking, and probably still nearby if Big Bertha hadn't already dealt with it. The thought, or perhaps just the cold wind, sent a shiver down Vincent's spine as he carefully set on foot in front of another. Everything in this forest had mutated to kill, and Vincent was easy prey in this open space.

Up ahead, Golem number four's corpse was strewn about a mess of decaying leaves and sticks. "Poor guy..." Vincent muttered as he crept towards the wreckage. "Someone most of shattered your core..." he muttered trying to fill the silence. As he grew closer and closer to the edge he began to feel like something was watching him. Imaginary eyes glared at him from the shadows, and the Hierophant began to think what could have been watching him.

"Linguarme is home to multiple violent species of flora and fauna..." he found himself muttering. "While they have not been properly studied due to the area being too dangerous, reports tell of anything ranging from shapeshifting hounds, to man-eating trees."

The scholar’s form of self-reassurance would have seemed odd to the casual observer, but to Vincent knowing was half the battle. He would rather face a shapeshifting hound instead of a dragon made of decaying flesh, or a manticore with chainsaws for tails, or a Vampire. Those things were terrifying and the fact that Vincent KNEW they weren't out there made him feel all the better.

Finally he stood over the broken corpse of the golem and knelt down. Its wooden bones were snapped and splintered, leaking sap from it's body like blood. Very careful Vincent began to shift through its corpse with a keen eye. The branches seemed to claw intentionally at him for forcing them into his service, and Vincent began to grow more and more nervous.

"Where the fuck is this core..." he growled right as he uncovered the smallest, most unassuming acorn. "There you are," he said gingerly reaching down and picking up the cracked nut. "Let’s get you back inside so I can fix you up and revive you ok Tobias?" Vincent cooed as he stood up and turned his back to the forest. He was so absorbed in assessing the damage of the nut it took him a while to realize something was wrong. Big Bertha had woken up and seemed agitated, something was out there. "Bertha?" Vincent asked pocketing the acorn and placing a hand on the longsword at his waist. "What is it girl?"

[Devonus]

My red eyes blazed with ill intent, the molten core of hatred personified in the fiery gaze that stared down upon the red hooded figured. He spoke with pity on his lips, my keen ears picking out the words spoken in the silent air, the forest stilled by my presence, save the ever present whispers of the trees. Their silent cries of hatred fueling the fueling the furnace as strong as anthracite mined from the deepest pits of Orodrim Lomei, the Mountains of Dusk that border Lindequalme, and form the south western border of Raiera.

What false pity do you pretend to carry for my brother? “Poor thing,” He is no fallen hatchling from its mothers nest. Lod'alquin stood centuries before he was uprooted, what do you pretend to know of his pride, of his purpose.

This words vibrate through my mind, be they my own, the forests, or some combination of the two I know not, nor care not. My mouth snarls with anger as he speaks of the dangers of the woods, speaking of those known to the common man, written in books by scholars who had nary tread outside their librarium, never mind into the death song woods. He does not bare the white wings, but my hatred burns none the less.

As he slowly begins to sift through the broken remains, their crimson bark sticking to his hands with the life blood of this forests lost son, I Slowly pull an arrow from my quiver. In rage I begin to knock it, my eyes dreaming of the moment it pierces the prideful creatures skin. I perceive the shot I must take, of the path the arrow must take to end this creatures defilement of what should be a grave. I see it before me, the soft gentle arc of the arrow, its gentle whisper masked by the cool evening breeze. I imagine it as it slips into his shoulder, biting down through his collar bone as he's bent over, deep into his chest piercing vein, artery, and organ. My mouth salivates with a small bit of glee as I imagine the blood bursting forth from such a wound, especially should it puncture his heart. Though I am well fed, I was ever the connoisseur.

I wonder how fool tastes..

I hear his soft voice speak of its core, of an ill gotten name, Tobias. And as the last words of repair float across my ears, my eyes narrow.

Death is not good enough for you, no. You had a hand in his anguish, and though you might not be the white winged one, you will share in it.... Perhaps you'll die quickly if you point me towards the other blasphemer

As the man comes up, his prize in hand, I cluck to my companion. With vicious glee Agar bursts from his cover, a howl from hell swelling in his lungs. It hangs in the air as a cry to all the world, that a big bad wolf has come to hunt. I shift my aim to the red hooded ones leg and let loose, a soft prayer that he does not move, to in shock of the two hundred pound, three foot high, crimson beast barreling down upon his misinformed frame.

[Cards of Fate]

A howl pierced the night, and suddenly Vincent watched in horror as the biggest hound he had ever seen burst through the brush into the clearing. Fuck you Leona... Vincent thought as the stumbled back away from the creature in some vain attempt to put distance between them. Fuck you and your shitty ass sense of humor... the thought was surprisingly calm, as if Vincent had accepted his fate. It was then when a three hundred pound pile of sticks also burst from the tree line and tackled the wolf. Tree Golem number three "Jensen" had sensed “his” master’s danger. A cold wind ripped through the air carrying the groans of the tree and the growls of the wolf. Vincent was captivated by the brawl, so much so that he forgot to stand back up. Then the arrow took him in the knee. Vincent barely had time to register what had just happened before the pain shot through his entire leg.

"Gngh," Vincent grunted, leg jerking in reaction. The arrow ripped through muscles and tendon like they were nothing, locking up in his joint. His entire leg felt like it was ablaze, and his vision began to fill with black spots. "MOTHERFUCKER!" he roared in anguish clutching his knee at the point where the shaft of the arrow met his skin. Warm blood seeped from the wound and Vincent found himself staring at the shaft with amazement. I've been shot... he thought to himself. Fuck. Vincent had never really been hurt like this and didn't really know how to react.

Another roar filled the air as Big Bertha lumbered into action as well, and suddenly Vincent was ripped into the air and tucked safely in Big Bertha's leafy body. Nestled deep within the leaves Vincent had been tucked away in an air pocket right next to Bertha's glowing acorn core. Tree Golems one, two, and five were also up in arms, but securing the back end of the fight encase the attack had come from multiple sides. Vincent at this point had begun to go into shock. I need to get this arrow out... he found himself thinking as he tried to shift his wounded leg to get a better look. The tip had managed to poke itself out of his knee in the back, and his entire leg was beginning to be covered in blood. He gritted his teeth and thought incredibly hard.

Listen here Vinnie... he could hear the familiar voice of Tobias Stalt in his head. There will come a time where you might need to patch yourself up on the fly. In this case remember open wounds need ta have pressure applied to them. If possible and necessary you can close a serious wound with fire, although it would hurt like a bitch. Finally, if you ever get shot by an arrow, push it all the way through, don't just rip it out. Push it through and break off the tip, then pull it out. You won’t rip the flesh off this way. Vincent chuckled. "Bastard's savin my ass after kicking it left and right..." he groaned reflecting on the mercenary's training. He gripped the shaft and gritted his teeth as he pushed it in a little deeper. "Fuuuuck," he spat between gritted teeth. He gripped the blood slick tip of the arrow and took a deep breath. Gritting his teeth he snapped the tip from the shaft and ripped the rest of the shaft out of his leg with a roar. Crimson geysers of blood erupted from his leg and he quickly tore his cloak from his body and wrapped it tightly around his leg, trying to restrict the blood-loss. Some of his blood splattered core of the creature and began to glow as the fizzled into nothingness.

He had no idea how the fight was going to go, and he was nervous. He needed proper medical attention soon. He was beginning to feel woozy, his vision fading.

Meanwhile Bertha was ready for a bout. Standing now the better portion of sixteen feet tall with large bulky arms connected to fists the size of small boulders, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her outer leaves bristled as she roared once more. Protect... she shouted, voice sounding like the rustle of a thousand leaves in a violent wind. Hierophant...

[Devonus]

The smell of fear pours forth from the man as Agar's howl reaches his ear. His panicked sweats smell speak of timidity, of a man not use to the dangers of the world. It reeks of old papyrus and leather, the musk of ancient tomes, it speaks of timidity, of someone not accustomed to the dangers of the world. It also holds the resolute calmness of one prepared to meet their death, a surprise from one such as this.

So focused am I on the man's terror I do not realize the impending struggle to come. A silent curse whispers upon the forest leaves as a rumble and the cracking of branches pierces the air. I watch in shock as another golem bursts forth and charges into Agar. My head tilts visibly in confusion at the intrusion, and I silently curse myself for having not scouted the grave site more clearly. I must trust in agar to do what is necessarily, and turn back to the man, starting to say a prayer for his safety before placing my hand to mouth to stifle a laugh.

The trees may speak to me this night, but I doubt the gods yet have ears for me

I had missed the arrows strike, but the view was no less satisfying then if I had. The scent of blood mingled with fear permeated the breeze drifting through the trees. I visibly bite my lip , lust begging me forward to the crimson fount flowing from the mans knee, my own teeth cutting my lip as I shake, muscles aching to bathe in it, to drown in the mans fear,pain, and helplessness. I close my eyes and see his shattered form behind my eyes, hear his screams echoing in my ear at the wounds I would soon inflict.

So I'm surprised when a roar burst forth, not from Agar, no, he was off in the distance,. The Jarg'Un wisely leading the golem away from our prey. No this was a hollow roar, a hollow sound of a log long felled. I open my eyes to find the man wrapped in a much older, wiser golems arms, flanked by three more. It stands taller then any other a mass of ancient leaves bound tightly by magic, its glossy green leaves dark and shimmering in the pale moonlight. It was not of this forest, and it was not false as the three others were. The crimson red trees , the common yew and oak, and a mighty, tall Akashima Redwood, stood behind the Green and brown monolith, strained against their chains. Their voices echoed on the air of pain suffered and freedom loss... the other spoke.. of nothing. I could barely sense it, and its voice did not speak to me as the others did...

Why does this sister cradle him, protect him, can she not see what he has wrought?

I grimace as I pull a canvas bag off my belt, my lips whispering a quiet apology as I tie it around the tip of an arrow.

Forgive me little brothers and sister

The tree's around me grow silent and shudder in fear and disgust as I bring my hand to my lips. I wince slightly and a small tear comes to my eye as I dig my teeth in, blood swelling to the surface, outlining the crevices of my pale hand in dark blood red. I cup the bag in my hand and squeeze.

At least there is no pain

A dozen tiny voices awaken as my blood seeps into the bag, voices of lust and love that both fill me with joy and dismay. I quickly draw the arrow and send it into the ground at the base of the golem's feet, the one holding the man protetivly in her arms. Dozens of tiny seeds springing to life as the bag lands. The bag wiggles, then bursts, as a torrent of vines begin to encircle the the golems legs. The writhe into and out of its crevices, their once green shoots died black with my tainted blood as the greedily explode into life. They beg for more as they go about their work, cries of love and devotion, of need. I ignore them as I focus on my only need, answers, and the blood of the one cocooned in a free willed sisters arms for some reason.

“We need to speak.” I bellow across the clearing, my voice breaks somewhat under barely contained rage. My eyes locking on the two, narrowed in hate and confusion.

(2 bp spent to explosively grow ivy from a pouch of seeds, 8 bp remaining)

[Cards of Fate]

The vines wrapped themselves in some vain tempt to confine Bertha. The leaves simply bristles in agitation as the vines wrapped around them. Waiting for the growth to stop, Bertha roared and her razor sharp leaves began to spin violently around her legs, some abandoning her arms to help free the other limbs from the clutches if the profane vines. Bertha roared and stepped free over the clutches of the vines with ease.

Show yourself... the golem bristled glancing in the direction of where the arrow had been fired from. Or I will tear this forest apart to find the one who has hurt my Hierophant... the beast continued. Normally Vincent would not have been able to hear Bertha speak, but it seemed that his blood on her core had formed some faint spiritual bond between the two. He could feel her voice resonating deep inside his skull as she spoke, and even her unspoken thought...

...
He could feel her memories as he faded in and out of her and his consciousness. He could feel her every memory, her first moments after her creation, he long slumber guarding the House of Cards for centuries after her first master died. Her awakening to Leona, her "Death" as her core was first broken. He could feel the chaos in her mind as she lingered trapped in a weakened core unable to form herself or feel anything. He saw himself the first time he had handled the core, the hours of study that he had done on it. He could feel her relief when he and Ioder had brought her back to life, the thrill of taking her first form once again. He could feel her instinct to protect him.

My Hierophant... she breathed like a gentle gust of wind into his inner mind. My Hierophant... she chanted again and again. protect...Protect...PROTECT... she roared as a mighty gust of leaves in the wind. She could feel his weakness, his pain, it fueled her rage.

Why have you come? She roared shooting a warning barrage of razor sharp leaves in his general direction. You filthy, profane creature! she roared. I can feel it in the blood of those vines, in your scent. You and the rest of this damned forest that I am cursed to remain in smell of rot and ruin, of the curse of that profane druid PODE. it roared.

[Devonus]

The creatures anger rolled over me, the scent of ancient forest, its fragrant undefiled green leaves, it's pure rage engulfs me, shames me. Its disgust and hate emanating from its very core, its hollow being screaming in hate long buried in loneliness. The forest around me grew still as its words echoed through their being, a seeming sense of guilt hanging heavy on their branches. But the hate still smolders, not just for those who defiled Lindaqualme further, but now for this pure creature who deign to look down upon its brothers, and protected one who harmed them.
“I have come for that man, and for the winged one who chains OUR brothers. I come for a purpose that though I am damned I have not forgotten. Our brother lay's here shattered, chained in service to a purpose not his own. His body ill wrought, his heart unknown, he suffered?”

I raise my hand, tilting my head to see around the creature and gesture to the remaining golem's.

“Solkan, Methrides, Lornia, they suffer still as Lod'alquin lays broken. The termites chew their flesh, the lichen dissolves their skin, and every second they groan in agony, and yet you ask why I have come? ARE YOU DEAF SISTER!!!. Have you grown so fond of man to ignore the cries of your kin?”

I kneel besides Lod'alquin's shattered pieces and gently run a hand along them, his spirit absent but the blood he shed sticking thickly to my fingers. I grimace and turn my burning gaze upon the leaf golem, hand clenching and sticking in the sap that reminds me of my purpose.

“And what of you? A sister to this forest born from the leaves of many? What purpose do you serve? What higher calling gives you the right to look down upon these woods? They who had no defense in their hour of need, they who struggle on despite their affliction? What gives you the right to judge them cursed when you yourself have never felt the bite of Pode, never lived with her lingering in your veighns? I may be dambed yes, and this forest well knows it, but they are not cursed, no, they are survivors.”

I rise up and draw another arrow, knocking it but leaving it undrawn, In the distance Agar howls in warning, and I silently thank him for the time he has bought, and thank him for surviving. I respond to the howl with a loud whistle, piercing through the nigh, a barbed arrow to the ears that sounds for miles.

He should stay away now, I hope I can come to some conclusion before this is done.

“I want our brothers and sisters freed from this form they endure. I want the broken soul of our brother that red hooded man carries. And I want those who wrought such torture to suffer as they did. Will you give me that, or must I burn a pure sister of the wood to protect the rest?”

The trees rustle in silent approval, though a melancholy echo dances in their leaves. I do not want to fight one so pure and untouched by the dark curse of this forest, a sister who holds true.

But I will..

I draw the arrow back and keep it aimed downwards, eyeing the golem with hate and disdain, and no small amount of pity that it could be so misguided.

[Cards of Fate]

Bertha's leaves rustled in anger at the man’s words. Deaf! she roared. I have stood silent vigil in these forests since before the War of the Tap. I have listened to these trees scream and suffer under the bite of Pode unable to help them, to save them! The man I protect is my Hierophant! The fates have decreed him one of their cards and he serves a higher purpose than you, lowly servant of the damned. I was torn asunder by the man in wings, The Moon, but they rebuilt me and gave me a greater purpose! Her words boomed through the forest.

Even now I can feel this little one’s mind inside of me! I can feel his knowledge and power, I can sense his fate! He is the greatest chance I have at reversing the bite of Pode I could ever fathom. His mind is filled with knowledge lost to the ages, he stands a disciple and student to Khal'Jaren the eternal librarian! And yet you would deign to smite this man from existence! Bertha stepped forward closing the gap between her and Devonus.

His intentions for us were always pure, he has no way to feel our screams or know our sufferings yet he tends to us to the best of his ability. I have stood alone through all of these years, with no one to call kin anymore. Then he came, and with the winged one gave me my children, broken and twisted as they might be. They gave me hope every time I watched him wash the lichen off of their bark, every time he tried to route the termites from their flesh. You have taken your quarrel with the winged one out on the one whom you should be kneeling before thanking. The one in the red does your job without your ability. You have become so twisted in your ways you know only hate and fury, and have forsaken your duty. Your powers are wasted on you. The golem growled as it stared down at the vampire.

I can feel his desire to see this forest righted, it matches my own. You call me one of the pure, left untainted, I desire for that to not be a special title. I am a creation made long before Pode's time, when this forest was the pride of the land. When the Tap coursed through our roots and made us mighty. How I long to see this forest healed... Bertha kneeled to face Devonus "face" to face.
This man is the hope of the forest as far as I am concerned. I have forged a bond of blood with him. The other, the one they call Ioder, is beyond my power to give to you. But fret not, after seeing the pain you have wrought on his dearest friend he will hunt you to the end of the earth. The golem rose to its full height to tower over him once more.

My children suffer, and it has been by my own greed that has caused this. The Hierophant loves them though, he has given them names that they have taken on as second names. Tobias, Jensen, Jack, Cain, and Victor. They suffer, but at kind hands that do their best to ease their suffering. If they wish to be free than they may free themselves. Bertha turned to the other three golems standing watch. Golems Jack and Cain reached into their chests and pulled their cores out, collapsing into a pile of branches. Victor however shook it's "head."

I have no qualms with the one they call the Hierophant. He groaned, his voice sounding of creaking planks.

He brushes lichen off of my logs... Jensen claimed emerging from the brush.

We choose to stay in the service of the Hierophant... they groaned in unison.

I can feel in Tobias' core he wishes to be free... Bertha said, pulling out a small acorn from within her. Kneeling she offers it to Devonus. Are you satisfied? Or must we fight once more?

[Devonus]

I grimaced as the golem dissected my character, her words held true with each syllable that vibrated in my mind. I knew each of my flaws as intimately as I knew the dangers of these woods. Sometimes I even wondered which would in the end, be the death of me. A soft smile dances across my lips as she finishes, an understanding ringing deep within, whispered on sweet whispered lips coated with blood so many long moons ago. 'Your rage burns hotter then even my cold blood can still. It burns bright, it burns pure.... Lose it, and you will lose yourself, and who knows what will arise from the ashes,' she whispers in my mind. Imaginery steel traces itself along my spine as I calm myself and look to the golem.

“No, I can never be satisfied sister. I have little reason to ever be, despite what concessions you, or any other, may offer.”

I slowly let the tension leave my pull on the arrow, and place it once again in its quiver. I bury my gaze on the golems head, blazing red eyes digging into its layered leave, seeing its imperfection, its fatigue in the moonlight.

“You are little better then the red hooded one, sheltered from the reality of the world by your long time away from it. Ignorance has never been an excuse for ones action.”

I gently reach out and take the broken core, the small pieces quivering in both pain, disgust, and relief, its broken soul uneasy in my undead hands, but free from whatever pain the others ignorant torture may be wrought by their hands, it still echoes of pain, it still echoes of anger.

Rest easy brother Lod'alquin. Vengeance might yet be ours...

I turn from her and slowly make my way to the other cores. Mithrades of the redwood, he of course had chosen to leave their service, it made sense for one who had so much to lose. His boistourous voice, deep as he was tall echoed in my mind.

”They know not what they will cause...”

Lornia the yew, also offered up her core. She spoke little. She was young, unsure of her place in this world, of all that had happened. Innocent, by many standards, especially by my own. Her voice was much less assured, it quavered as she briefly spoke, her words a soft whisper, almost child like as it trailed off.

“Thank you.. umm...”

I smile briefly and whisper to her as I place their two beating cores along side Lod'alquin.

“Its Devonus child”

A small squeamish squeak sounds in my mind as Lornia places the name, knowing not me, but of me.

I smile a bit, glad to here the voices of my tree brothers and sisters so clearly, as I had not heard their ilk in to many a night. I turn back to the Leaf Golem, her figure seeming much less imposing now that she lacked half her support. She was none the less, more then I could handle.

“Your ignorance, and his, may cause more harm then you know Golem. You have been to long gone from the world, to understand this forest. You know longer hear it's song, and though Lindaqualme may sing a song most savage, it sings it true. Yet what of you sister? I hear no song in your leaves, your voice no longer sings.”

I walk towards the edge of the clearing. Looking over my shoulder as i whistle for agar. My voice carries an air of contempt as I finish addressing the golem before leaving.

“The white winged one, this Ioder, I hope what you say is true. He sounds far more entertaining then the pathetic Heirophant in your arms. , Solkan, Hirathan, keep yourselves well, and should I need to fell you one day, ill make it swift if I can... And you leaf golem, what of your name? And the one you guard so vehemently and praise with so many a title?"

[Cards of Fate]

Bertha's leaves bristle. "I have heard the forest sing fool..." she replied, her voice a soft fluttering of leaves. "I have chosen not to sing along... she says turning away. She can feel Vincent inside of her, nestled unconsciously in the nest she had formed for him. Her leaves had patched his leg up, preventing further bleeding. She doesn't even turn back to the man to reply. "His name...is Vincent Cain." the golem roars. "And he will be the muse for my song..."

Leona is waiting at the entrance, arms outstretched as Bertha deposits the unconscious Hierophant in them. The two cannot exchange words, but Leona knows she has angered the golem. She descends into the pit and manages to carry Vincent into her room and sets him on her bed before summoning help to treat him. She knows she must wait. The moment Ioder finds out about the attack he will be hungry for revenge. A few non arcana cards tend to the unconscious Hierophant using minor healing magics to mend the torn flesh in his knee and stop the bleeding. He will be bedridden for days, maybe weeks, Leona makes several mental notes to switch to two sugars in her tea so that he might make a speedier recovery. The futures winding paths are clear to her, and she can see his forgiveness after seeing the means, and for that she is thankful. While she may be ready to dispose of any of her cards should the time come, Vincent has...grown on her.

Before she leaves she writes a quick note and leaves it next to the bed for an unconscious Vincent to read when he awoke, along with a present. A simple mahogany cane with an owl's head carved into the handle. He will need it when it's time to leave his bed to go on to more important matters. Feeling satisfied with her work she exits her room and heads down to the House of Cards' kitchen where she knows Ioder the angel will be cooking a pizza for a dinner with Vincent that will have to be postponed. She knows his reaction already, all she can do is make sure her path puts fate on the right track...


Spoils:

The Hierophant's Cane: A simple mahogany cane enchanted to be able to hold up to 500 pounds of weight with an owls head for a handle. Crafted specifically for Vincent's stature

[Devonus]

A human muse for a child of tree.... How.. foolish.

I shake my head as I watch her back, her leaves still bristling in her false righteousness.

How fitting that pose, a cat bristling with indignation at prey just beyond her reach.

I chuckles as I slowly start my trek away from the forest. Wondering if I am much better. After all I was the hunter tonight, the one whose prey slipped away. Oh but he will remember me I am sure, and it is different. I have no false belief that he could be mine, no false sense of being wrongfully robbed. No, I was outclassed. I ..

I was weak. I who considered the proudest hunter of these woods, above man and beast alike, was weak... but still, they were weaker of mind, of purpose.

I spit angrily into the grass, my eyes only a slight dull red as I grimace in disgust. The one named vincent did not have the strength to challenge me, weak and lost in a world he knew not. The leaf golem, weak of will and purpose, she bristled with the anger only those false to themselves know.

She could have fought, struck me down, but she felt weak, pity for the brothers that were bound. She needed not make concessions. She could have kept them.

Proud Mithrades, a strong personification of the Red Forest around me now. Innocent Lornia, fresh as new dew upon the leaf. Finally Lod'alquin, brother in pain and sorrow, his vengence still burning hot against my side, unquenched. Each, had she the drive the purpose, to fully serve her “hierophant”, would have stood strong at her side.

But she is lost, clinging to any purpose she can find.. but not with the strength to make that purpose truly hers. She has lost even her name... her song.

“Its almost sad... almost.”

Agar yips, emerging from a small bush to the east, his head tilted sideways in confusion at the unheard conversation within me. He limps a bit, his back left paw tenderly used as he comes up to me. I kneel and gently rub his head, placing a soft kiss upon his snout before going back to look at his leg. He whimpers I gently run my hand along it, a soft yelp issueing as I inspect and find the fracture. I pat his side hold his head between my hands and make eye contact.

“Im sorry I failed you tonight Agar. I was blinded by hatred, my eyes did not see what they should.. and because of that, you were hurt.”

His tongue gently lolls out and caresses my face, though cold, it still holds more comfort then any other creature would possibly ever show me.

“Thank you my friend.. Can you make it home?”

His head actually pulls back, and I'd swear it was a look of incredulity and cockiness, as if to say how dare I question his strength. I laugh a bit and once again pat his head, slowly picking our way towards home, takings wandering paths and bends to lose any possible pursuit. The sky slowly begins to lighten as we reach our clearing, the ancient oak under which I make my grave softly whispering on the wind a welcome home, of joy at our safe return. I place my palm against its gnarled bark, my other hand clutching the bag in which Mithrades, Lornia, and Lod'alquin now lay, and smile, the corners of my lip upturned in a cocky grin, a mischievous glint dancing in my now dark blue eyes.

“Yes, we are home, and this time we bring company!”

The leaves of the old oak seem to frolic and roll with laughter and mirth as I bury myself beneath the earth. As I doze off to sleep, the dreams of the cores mingling with mine as we recover beneath the earth. They all whisper of different emotions, of duty and pride, of playful days spent in summer breeze, and of course, of hate and rage. Agar alone was not my only companion this day, his head resting comfortably on my chest, no today..

Did I make friends?

I laugh at myself as I surrender to the rest of the day, of a damned mans sleep.


Requesting GP be banked for future spoil usage.

[Tobias Stalt]

Plot: 22 Story wise, this sets up the characters for future interaction. Vincent grows as a character, we see Devonus in the role of anti-hero and protector of the forest, and the story ends with high tensions. It doesn't really diffuse. I caution you against doing this too often, but it lends to writing good stories together in the future. You didn't use the setting to the fullest extent, and it sort of played a backseat to the characters. None of the action really popped. What did strike me was that you had a story you wanted to tell, and you told it. That's a strong foundation. Now build on it.

Character: 20 Cards, Vincent is pirtrayed here as something of a dry character. He exists in the moment, but takes no real command of it. The story tells us cut and dry, I did this because x and achieved y. You have the tools at your disposal to make a reader love or hate all of your characters, and also tell a story that keeps them riveted. Bland declarative statements weaken what could easily be descriptive prose and doorways into the mind of Vincent as he reacts to a world unknown to him. If you need specific advice, please PM me or ask for advice around. I challenge you personally not to tell me what's on his mind. I challenge you to show Vincent's thoughts through actions, and to let communication between characters confirm the reader's suspicions. Don't blow your load early on, especially in longer threads. We don't need to know, until we need to know. Devo, your feedback here is a bit less harsh, but take it for its salt. It feels like Devonus should be more predatory than he is. Despite being against difficult odds, he should still show a more feral, hateful streak toward the offending human. Regardless of being rebuffed by a golem, he should be relentless. As a guardian of the forest, I expect his bestial side would have grown a bit more pronounced over time, especially since he is a druid of Lindequalmë. It's a bit of an opinion here, but as far as lore goes, that's where we're at.

Prose : 15 Cards, you've already come a ways in threads that were started after this, so a lot of the feedback may come as rhetoric or repetitive to you. That said, it's good to take note of it so that it doesn't relapse into bad habit in the future. A quick proofreading of the thread will eliminate most of your preliminary spelling or grammatical issues; again, the center alignment of your posts is an unnecessary additive and it distracts from the overall focus of the writing. Your ultimate goal is to tell a story that neither gives too much or too little every aspect of presentation counts. On that same coin, Devonus, your use of the first person here drudges up a similar issue. For instance, you have a penchant for "I did this." "I did that." While you can't avoid the sentence format altogether, you want to try to limit it. The repetitive nature of the structure can add unwanted monotony to your voice. Also, "So, I'm surprised when..." Don't feel the need to tell us exactly what you're feeling. Get creative. Show us how he's reacting. (A healthy dose of "FUCK!" rips madly from my lips when an arrow whizzes past my ear and a fountain of blood erupts forth" has a much stronger effect. A well placed exclamation and a strong burst of action trumps a declaration of mood.)

Wildcard: 5 I am a man who loves a good villain. Devonus, you can develip into a real menace, but I think the context of levels is in your head. Don't be afraid to be as evil as your character is able to be, but act within the realm of realism. Just because I can't burn you alive doesn't mean I don't want to. Vinnie, man the fuck up.

Final Score: 60/100

Cards of Fate gains 600 exp and 70 gold
Devonus gains 650 exp and 80 gold

Cards: Motion for spoils denied *because* the value of the enchanted cane would exceed maximized gold output of the thread.

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added!