15/06/2021 Blood on the Breeze. Faust Greyheart
Jun 19, 2021 9:45:29 GMT
levuka, Jamie J, and 6 more like this
Post by WillJ on Jun 19, 2021 9:45:29 GMT
My beloved Margret,
A second adventure into the Feywild and a second powerful fey aligned lady that I hope I can count among my friends. But the two visits could not have been more different. Having seen a request for help written by a 'Huntsman' of a 'Witching Court' I had gone to Fort Ettin on the hopes that someone might know what these things meant. The weather at the Fort was most unseasonable; winds almost lifting me off my feet. Discovering a team had already assembled to answer this call for aid I joined Felix, a master magician named Veridian, a powerful half orc warrior called Kalta who reminded me of Varga with her no nonsense attitude and imposing physical presence and Levuka, a disciple of the natural world. After we had climbed to the top of Fort I was surprised to learn that our destination would be the fey realms once more. Albeit a very different part of the Feywild to that I had previously travelled to. The storm we had left was but an echo of the one consuming this section of the feywild. Following lights through a dense forest, I could barely hear my own thoughts over the screaming winds and lashing rain. We arrived at the face of a mountain soaked to the bone.
Stepping into an opening of this imposing rock face we were greeted not by guards but a somewhat dishevelled drow named Margotin. Hurrying us through corridors under the mountain we paused only to collect a final member of the team. The Lady Belladonna Thorpe. Clearly no stranger to this witching court this drow was dressed in an immaculate white ball gown, and held herself with a confidence that spoke of power. I was struck by the similarities (albeit not physical) between her and Princess Merla and wandered if they were friends, but we had more important matters at hand than to gossip so I never asked.
In a vast central chamber there stood a great warrior, staring deep into a most massive blood red crystal protruding from the ceiling. Half his focus constantly on this artefact this huntsman outlined what was occurring here, the reason that everyone else we had met was hurrying around in a panicked manner, flinching at the deafening crashes that penetrated this far underground. His dreadlocks swaying as he recounted the upheaval that had come to the lands of his queen Nicnevin. About the murder of a queen called Sarastra and the efforts of another called Miranda. The feywild it seems is fond of multiple monarchies. Although whatever order dictates their positions has started to come apart causing this catastrophe. Specifically the awakening of a spirit said to herald the ends times of the Witching Court. This spirit now circled the peak of this very mountain. Powerful enough to tear it from the ground, wreathed in a poisonous mist. It was clear this was not an opponent that could be bested in combat.
The huntsman, still distracted by whatever visions this crystal were granting confirmed that the mountain peak held a cave with a sister crystal whose enchantments should have held the spirits until their appointed time. Here is our goal, not to fight the beast, for it is an omen of the end times and direct victory is impossible but to investigate the enchantments, attempt to fix whatever is broken or altered. We return to the outside and the raging storm and glance upwards. It is going to be quite the climb and I am not as young as I once was. By pure chance it appears that we are all in possession of exactly 50ft of hempen rope and several members of the team have magics that can assist us with the ascent. Strapping ropes around us we begin the climb.
Two full days of climbing, two full days of cut hands, sore muscles, constant rain and no way to communicate over the crashing of thunder and striking rain. The evenings are welcome breaks. Huddling inside a magical dome that Master Veridian summons we can see the rain but the noise falls away and peace descends for a few hours as we sleep. The watches are eventful. A shadowy creature with red eyes has found us. Seemingly unable to penetrate our defences it stays at a distance. Its size difficult to make out in the dark and stormy nights it is none-the-less disturbing. Levuka's dreams are broken by visions of a massive serpent, destruction and the end of times. She recounts these calmly and I wonder what her life has been before this for her to be so unfazed in this moment.
Cresting into the cave entrance the morning of the third day Lady Thorpe and Master Veridian's homunculus (Paracelsus II) fly forward to scout our way. It is not long before his face alerts us that Paracelsus III might be needed. We rush forward to support as we round a corner we are faced with a different type of storm. A cave wreathed in fiery lightning. A central pool almost too bright to look at holds a similar crystal to that in the chambers below. Around it stand 3 statues holding glowing orbs and to our right a massive spectral wolf with glowing red eys. My copy of the Kantas Gazette had not survived the constant rain and I stood paralysed by fear until Master Veridian focussed his magics and trapped this beast in an invisible semi-sphere of energy. Buying us the time to identify the misalignment of these statues which had broken the protective enchantment and allowed the escape of these spirits. Calling upon the power of nature, Levuka summoned up 4 large apes, strong beasts who helped those of us lacking muscle mass to move the imposing rock carvings. Kalta did not need such help, her powerful muscles bunching and smoothly moving the weight they were set against. Resetting the enchantment the noise became deafening as a gargantuan serpent, the one from Levuka's dreams and almost certainly the spirit we were warned of, filled the room. Its thunderous voice spoke in some language unknown to me to its sibling the wolf and both re-entered the crystal at the centre of the pool.
Returning to the huntsman via teleportation we could see the blood red colour beginning to fade and be replaced with the white of the moon. In the manner of so many Fey he remained somewhat haughty and rather than thanking us profusely for stopping the end days, he focussed instead on reiterating the need for a 'Fey Ascendant'. My mind leapt to princess Merla, she seems both wise and powerful, perhaps she would rule benevolently? Not that I have a say in the matter, I am sure there is some deeply obscure process of selection. Turning to leave we met with Oziah who had apparently been drinking in the court and looked a little worse for it. Returning to the material plane I cannot help but think that we are on the precipice of disaster. That our actions have only delayed an inevitable calamity in the fey courts. What comes next I cannot say but I will entrust everything I have seen to Merla and hope she has answers where I do not.
Margret, I am not strong enough to stop what's coming. Worse, there are people in the Dawnlands, thousands that have not even the meagre power I wield. What fear they must live in. When calamity can strike at any time and without warning. Perhaps the way I can contribute to world is to try and set an example and provide comfort by letting them know that people are out there fighting to keep them safe. I have recently discovered a method of shaping clouds into words, perhaps the citizens of the Dawnlands will feel better if they look to the sky and see messages of hope and love. I love my book of poems, its contents spark in me so many happy memories with you, but its reach is limited in these lands. How few of these people have heard of 'Beyonce' of those 'Spice Girls' we met under the mountains of the East? Perhaps through this method I can inspire more than just those who have the strength and will to take up weapons and act. Hope in a time of crisis?
I remain yours, always.
Faust sprinkles fine sand on the page to dry the ink, closes his most precious belonging and places back in his inside jacket pocket, close to his heart. He straightens himself in the his chair in the corner of the Four Fair Winds and focuses on magically sending a message:
'Lady Merla..'
A second adventure into the Feywild and a second powerful fey aligned lady that I hope I can count among my friends. But the two visits could not have been more different. Having seen a request for help written by a 'Huntsman' of a 'Witching Court' I had gone to Fort Ettin on the hopes that someone might know what these things meant. The weather at the Fort was most unseasonable; winds almost lifting me off my feet. Discovering a team had already assembled to answer this call for aid I joined Felix, a master magician named Veridian, a powerful half orc warrior called Kalta who reminded me of Varga with her no nonsense attitude and imposing physical presence and Levuka, a disciple of the natural world. After we had climbed to the top of Fort I was surprised to learn that our destination would be the fey realms once more. Albeit a very different part of the Feywild to that I had previously travelled to. The storm we had left was but an echo of the one consuming this section of the feywild. Following lights through a dense forest, I could barely hear my own thoughts over the screaming winds and lashing rain. We arrived at the face of a mountain soaked to the bone.
Stepping into an opening of this imposing rock face we were greeted not by guards but a somewhat dishevelled drow named Margotin. Hurrying us through corridors under the mountain we paused only to collect a final member of the team. The Lady Belladonna Thorpe. Clearly no stranger to this witching court this drow was dressed in an immaculate white ball gown, and held herself with a confidence that spoke of power. I was struck by the similarities (albeit not physical) between her and Princess Merla and wandered if they were friends, but we had more important matters at hand than to gossip so I never asked.
In a vast central chamber there stood a great warrior, staring deep into a most massive blood red crystal protruding from the ceiling. Half his focus constantly on this artefact this huntsman outlined what was occurring here, the reason that everyone else we had met was hurrying around in a panicked manner, flinching at the deafening crashes that penetrated this far underground. His dreadlocks swaying as he recounted the upheaval that had come to the lands of his queen Nicnevin. About the murder of a queen called Sarastra and the efforts of another called Miranda. The feywild it seems is fond of multiple monarchies. Although whatever order dictates their positions has started to come apart causing this catastrophe. Specifically the awakening of a spirit said to herald the ends times of the Witching Court. This spirit now circled the peak of this very mountain. Powerful enough to tear it from the ground, wreathed in a poisonous mist. It was clear this was not an opponent that could be bested in combat.
The huntsman, still distracted by whatever visions this crystal were granting confirmed that the mountain peak held a cave with a sister crystal whose enchantments should have held the spirits until their appointed time. Here is our goal, not to fight the beast, for it is an omen of the end times and direct victory is impossible but to investigate the enchantments, attempt to fix whatever is broken or altered. We return to the outside and the raging storm and glance upwards. It is going to be quite the climb and I am not as young as I once was. By pure chance it appears that we are all in possession of exactly 50ft of hempen rope and several members of the team have magics that can assist us with the ascent. Strapping ropes around us we begin the climb.
Two full days of climbing, two full days of cut hands, sore muscles, constant rain and no way to communicate over the crashing of thunder and striking rain. The evenings are welcome breaks. Huddling inside a magical dome that Master Veridian summons we can see the rain but the noise falls away and peace descends for a few hours as we sleep. The watches are eventful. A shadowy creature with red eyes has found us. Seemingly unable to penetrate our defences it stays at a distance. Its size difficult to make out in the dark and stormy nights it is none-the-less disturbing. Levuka's dreams are broken by visions of a massive serpent, destruction and the end of times. She recounts these calmly and I wonder what her life has been before this for her to be so unfazed in this moment.
Cresting into the cave entrance the morning of the third day Lady Thorpe and Master Veridian's homunculus (Paracelsus II) fly forward to scout our way. It is not long before his face alerts us that Paracelsus III might be needed. We rush forward to support as we round a corner we are faced with a different type of storm. A cave wreathed in fiery lightning. A central pool almost too bright to look at holds a similar crystal to that in the chambers below. Around it stand 3 statues holding glowing orbs and to our right a massive spectral wolf with glowing red eys. My copy of the Kantas Gazette had not survived the constant rain and I stood paralysed by fear until Master Veridian focussed his magics and trapped this beast in an invisible semi-sphere of energy. Buying us the time to identify the misalignment of these statues which had broken the protective enchantment and allowed the escape of these spirits. Calling upon the power of nature, Levuka summoned up 4 large apes, strong beasts who helped those of us lacking muscle mass to move the imposing rock carvings. Kalta did not need such help, her powerful muscles bunching and smoothly moving the weight they were set against. Resetting the enchantment the noise became deafening as a gargantuan serpent, the one from Levuka's dreams and almost certainly the spirit we were warned of, filled the room. Its thunderous voice spoke in some language unknown to me to its sibling the wolf and both re-entered the crystal at the centre of the pool.
Returning to the huntsman via teleportation we could see the blood red colour beginning to fade and be replaced with the white of the moon. In the manner of so many Fey he remained somewhat haughty and rather than thanking us profusely for stopping the end days, he focussed instead on reiterating the need for a 'Fey Ascendant'. My mind leapt to princess Merla, she seems both wise and powerful, perhaps she would rule benevolently? Not that I have a say in the matter, I am sure there is some deeply obscure process of selection. Turning to leave we met with Oziah who had apparently been drinking in the court and looked a little worse for it. Returning to the material plane I cannot help but think that we are on the precipice of disaster. That our actions have only delayed an inevitable calamity in the fey courts. What comes next I cannot say but I will entrust everything I have seen to Merla and hope she has answers where I do not.
Margret, I am not strong enough to stop what's coming. Worse, there are people in the Dawnlands, thousands that have not even the meagre power I wield. What fear they must live in. When calamity can strike at any time and without warning. Perhaps the way I can contribute to world is to try and set an example and provide comfort by letting them know that people are out there fighting to keep them safe. I have recently discovered a method of shaping clouds into words, perhaps the citizens of the Dawnlands will feel better if they look to the sky and see messages of hope and love. I love my book of poems, its contents spark in me so many happy memories with you, but its reach is limited in these lands. How few of these people have heard of 'Beyonce' of those 'Spice Girls' we met under the mountains of the East? Perhaps through this method I can inspire more than just those who have the strength and will to take up weapons and act. Hope in a time of crisis?
I remain yours, always.
Faust sprinkles fine sand on the page to dry the ink, closes his most precious belonging and places back in his inside jacket pocket, close to his heart. He straightens himself in the his chair in the corner of the Four Fair Winds and focuses on magically sending a message:
'Lady Merla..'
