Chapter Two: A Face in the Shadows

[Scaldin]

Llecarud's heart lifts at the sight of the heartwood. Already her body ached from climbing the Aged Stairs. Silverstreak too looked upon the door with indignation, ready to be back on his own to feet, already he struggled to be free of Cathall's assistance. At last, a door, there at the top. Its about time. This rope is beginning to chafe.

[Klazzform]

As Cathall approaches the giant door, he places Silverstreak gently on the ground. Stepping nearer to the portal, he places a hand on it and gently shoves it forward to see if it is unlocked. If it is open, he will swing it wide and step cautiously into the room beyond, glancing back to confirm that his friends are still following close on his heels.

[hallstadt]

As Cathalll slides the great portal open, a fantastic sight appears before them. The source of the green glow becomes immediately apparent, and it is the first thing that the companions notice.

Beyond the door, in the middle of a circular chamber some 60 feet in diameter, stands a massive throne. Like everything else in the tree towers--the walls, the stairs, the doorways--the throne seems to be made from the living wood of the tree. But it is not the throne that steals the companions breath with its wondrous nature, but the great green glowing orb that pulses rhythmically, emitting bursts of brilliant emerald light that rests above the throne, seemingly suspended in mid air over the center of the chamber.

So transfixed are the companions by the green orb that they almost fail to notice the woman who sits, her face veiled in the shadows of her hood, in the thorny throne beneath the beating emerald heart of the tree. The companions are stricken with the feeling that the green-heart orb is possessed of a strange species of consciousness, for they can almost feel it probing their thoughts, assessing them.



The woman regards them, and from the shadows of her hood, the companions catch a glimpse of two emerald points of light, like twin candles burning with a glaucous light. Her eyes seem to pulse in time with the flickering light of the tree's heart, as though she is somehow part and parcel of this ancient tower.

"Welcome, heroes of Haven's Hold." She says at last in a voice as soft as rustling autumn leaves. "You have proven your strength and are fit to enter here. Come, make yourselves at home, for you have traveled far and are no doubt in need of rest."

As she speaks, a wave of palliative energy washes over you Restore all lost HPs, Temporary Attribute Damage, etc.restoring, refreshing, and rejuvenating you.

[Klazzform]

Cathall, to put it frankly, is feeling a bit overwhelmed. In the past three days he has witnessed more strange occurrences then he has seen in his entire life. Creatures that rip holes in the fabric of the sky and emerge from the flesh of the dead. Walls of underbrush that grow overnight. Gigantic talking and walking trees. Stairways that ascend into the heart of a living, monolithic tree, and now this. He finds that words come slowly and with much deliberation, but he also finds that his feelings of mistrust and hesitance have washed away under the gaze of the woman who now stands before him. Clearly there is no threat here and he feels a peace wash over his body that he has not felt since the beginning of this journey.

“Thank you for your welcome.” He says, bowing slightly. Feeling his blade shift across his shoulders, he finds himself wishing it was not there. For some reason it feels like an abomination in this, clearly, sacred place. “We do not wish to intrude upon your sanctuary. My friends and I have come seeking a cure for a disease which plagues our lands. We seem to have stumbled upon this place, and although we do not wish to cause harm, I feel that perhaps our footsteps have guided us here without our knowing.” He pauses and attempts to make out the woman’s features. “Pardon me for asking, but have we met before?”

[Scaldin]

Entering the room, Llecarud feels a special kin-ness to the area. Something about it comforts her, soothes her, as if this is the place she truely belongs. The orb above's pulsating light only serves to rhythmically settle her, and soon she finds her heart beat following the pulsation. As she moves forward, and noticing the lady on the throne, a warmth washes over her, like nothing she had felt in the years since leaving her family those years back to find her place in the world. The lady before her provides Llecarud with a motherly calm, and puts her into a state of complete comfort and ease. Reaching the foot of the throne, Llecarud lowers herself onto both knees, not bowing, for something inside her tells her it is unnecessary. She sits back on her heels and looks up to the woman. Beside her Silverstreak sits, after a daring moment of moving to the lady and sniffing her out.

I am Llecarud, Druid of Haven's Hold, upholder to natures laws, and defender of the like minded. The words just poured out of her lips, never had Llecarud found herself so formal in speak. As if the person before her's presence pulled it from her. She then looks to Silverstreak, his eyes showing complete calm and peace.This is my protector and friend, Silverstreak. I am honored for you to have brought us here, the sight is truly inspiring to this follower of Lady Gwynn.

[Stormhammer]

Cedrick is stunned by the sight of the pulsing green orb. He sensed that both the orb and the woman were interconnected somehow, as if they were a single being. And I'm Cedrick. Clown, mime, and fool. Cedrick bowed to the hooded lady.

[hallstadt]

OODM Expect a real update tomorrow guys. Life has, again, been crazy.

[hallstadt]

Calmly, the hooded figure assesses each of you. Long moments pass in silence as her pulsing emerald eyes seem to gaze deep into the very foundations of your being.

Finally, she speaks; her soft, gentle voice as soothing as a cool breeze on a hot summer's day. "I know of the disease of which you speak, know of it all too well, I fear, for it threatens to blight not only those that go by paw, wing, and fin, but the folk of root and branch as well."

After a brief moment and a heavy sigh, she continues. "We have not met, good warrior of the northern clans, but I have known your people to be (mostly) friend not foe, so you are welcome here. I am glad, too, to see a druid and follower of Gwyn among us, for the greenworld needs its protectors! (As do those of kind heart and like mind). And well met to you as well, Cedrick, who I have seen before, though only for brief moments on those occasions when I have payed the danaans dwelling deep within the Bramblewood a visit."

Indeed, as the bard suspects, it seems this woman is part of the tree, the green orb that is its heart continues to pulse with a slow and peaceful rhythm mirrored by the pulsing of her emerald eyes as she regards each of you with a sweet, gentle smile.

"Much peril lies ahead of you, good protectors, so I offer what counsel is mine to give so that you may walk the treacherous path before you with whatever protection my wisdom might grant you."

[Stormhammer]

This has been a weird couple of days even by my standards. Cedrick chuckled to himself. What do you know 'bout the Scarlet Door, mistress?

[hallstadt]

"The scarlet door?" She asks, and for a moment Cedrick thinks she will say no more. Finally, she goes on, saying, "The door is that of a prison, built after the shattering to keep the fomaraan, those servants of the vile god Varax, sealed away from the world of Abred."

At this point, her tone and expression turn grim. "Something within the door or something outside of it--I know not which--has begun to breach that ancient portal. The door must not be allowed to open! The creatures of shadow and the plague that sweeps over these lands is only the beginning. Should the door open all the way it is said that Varax himself, that god some call the Overlord, the Destroyer, and the Devourer of Worlds, will walk Abred. This will mean only misery and death for the goodly folk of the world!

She slumps back as if exhausted. After a long pause she says in a low, weary voice, "Ask what else you would--but hurry! The door must be closed and I fear it falls to you, unlikely band of defenders, to accomplish this heroic feat!"

As each of you ponders the new insights gleaned from the lady of the tower, you remember back to the Ogham reading performed round the great hearth fire of Haven's Hold. In particular, you recall the third stick cast, the Gorse, and recall chief oviate Fiolaine's interpretation of that omen.

"The third stick indicates the possibilities of the future, that which still lies before us. Gorse here indicates that as we proceed we must take the time to reflect and truly understand all we see—we must not act brashly, bur instead give due thought to all we do… in a more literal sense, this indicates a thorny plant that thrives even in rocky soil…. We must show similar endurance, and be willing to seek that which thrives in the places we normally avoid…."


Indeed, the events of the last day and half have been strange, but one should expect strangeness when wandering the fae-haunted, mist choked woods of the north.

[Klazzform]

Cathall ponders the woman’s words before speaking. "Do you know where we can find this door? We were told to seek out a thorny plant that thrives in rocky soil in the hopes that it, or its surrounding environments, might help us better gleam a path to take Although we have only been on the road for a couple of days now, we have yet to discover such a plant."

[hallstadt]

"Have you indeed?" The woman asks, and though her face remains a tranquil mask, her eyes gleam with an inner humor, as though smiling inwardly at some unspoken truth of which only she and the gods know.

As she asks the question, Cathall sees a vision of the walking thorn creature who led you to the tower itself, which, in turn, led you to these very chambers.

"Indeed, I know of a path to the part of the Scraghollow woods in which the door is said to lie hidden deep in the heart of an ancient glade. The path is accessible through the depths of this very tower, but I cannot promise you a safe journey! Indeed, many dangers likely lurk in the shadowy subterranean paths. The path I know is an underground series of catacombs which winds its way through the depths of the earth until it comes out again deep within the forest fastness of Scraghollow." She pauses thoughtfully, then adds, "If you have no further questions, I would gladly show you the entrance to the catacombs anon."

[Scaldin]

Llecarud snaps out of memory, suddenly reminded of the danaan who was torn apart from the inside. Actually, I was wondering, where do these fomraan come from, aside from "inside" the door? On our way here we saw one burst from the corpse of a fallen Danaan. Could it be perhaps that the plague that is sweeping the lands is but a catalyst, urging the spawning of the fomraan from the bodies of the freshly dead effected by the blight, like a maggot grows on warm meat? Perhaps the connection, or rather the negative polarization of the lineages of Danaan and Fomraan, is allowing the Fomraan to use the bodies of the deceased Danaan as portals to Abred. As if the share a very one sided symbiotic relationship, or perhaps parasitic.

Llecarud stops and looks to the others sheepishly, her cheeks blushing as she expects to see jaws wide from the others from her nearly philosophic rambling. With her arms behind her back, the grinds her toe into the ground and smiles.

Just a thought.

[hallstadt]

"This seems likely to me indeed, and I have thought on such a possibility long and hard. The sickness unleashed on these lands may indeed be a means for the Fomaraan to enter Abred through infected hosts..." She pauses and, surprisingly, her masklike face twists as if in revulsion at the thought. "For this reason, I would gift you each with a bit of protection and a possible salve to fight back the shadow sickness..."

From a satin pouch round her neck she produces three large thorns that look as if they might have grown from the bark of this very tower. Each thorn is affixed to a silver chain that glistens in her hands bright and fluid as moonlight. She hands you each an amulet saying, "Should you encounter more folk--danaan or otherwise--who have fallen to the blight, these thorns should drive out any trace of the sickness and force an Fomaraan trying to gain access to this world back beyond the Scarlet Door. Wear these about your necks, and they shall protect you from being infected with this foul disease as well."

"I am confident, however, that the highest priority must be to close the Scarlet Door! For the horrors that lie sealed beyond it would make the Fomaraan we have seen so far seem like no threat at all in comparison!"

[Stormhammer]

How hard could it be to shut a door? Cedrick suddenly got the sense that this task entailed a lot more then simply closing a red door. Cedrick scratched Silverstreak behind the ears. We'll show those Fomaraans whose boss, won't we, boy?