The snake seems rather confused. It hesitates in its climb up to your little hollow.
"Bird ssspeak?" It hisses, surprised. "Bird not eat sssnake. Sssnake eat bird!"
It seems mostly convinced by its simplistic reasoning, but is still hesitating for the moment.
"Hey, don't sell yourself short. Snakes are delicious! Come a little closer."
R’rrr ar’kkk peers down at the snake from between his comrades, ready to act should it fail to be dissuaded.
Undeterred by your bluffs, the snake slithers closer... until it gets a faceful of color spray
It flinches away from the spell.
"Ah! What that!? Not good!" It hisses, clearly spooked by the combination of talking and the spell. The snake turns and slithers back the trunk of the tree, leaving you in peace.
The storm blows over sometime in the middle of the night, and by the time you awake in the morning, sunlight is starting to peek through breaks in the clouds. After the wind and thunder of the storm, the odd silence of the morning is almost a relief.
R’rrr ar’kkk falls into a deep slumber, twitching and muttering throughout the night as he dreams of the world-that-would-be. He awakes early, refreshed, though as usual he cannot remember any of his night's visions. Peering carefully out of the bole to confirm that the snake or some other predator isn't lurking outside, he awaits his companions to be ready to depart.
You fly undisturbed until sometime after noon. In the eerie stillness of the quiet forest, you hear something... a voice, you realize as you draw closer. A weeping voice, singing a dirge.
[ooc]Can we tell what creature the voice belongs to?"[/b]
S'kkk'aaa'rrrk will stealthily try and approach the source of the weeping voice
A dirge amongst the trees; coincidental or prophetic?
R’rrr ar’kkk begins to glance about with his left eye, but upon seeing the Shadow's stealthy advance he hangs back and awaits further direction from her.
S'kkk'aaa'rrrk stealthily flies a little closer, and sees it is a dryad. She is singing a mournful song, face downcast.
"The axe man comes to fell our kin
Chop, chop, chop.
He brings is axe down again and again
Chop, chop, chop.
His great axe so keen parts limb from limb
Lop, lop, lop."
"A simple tune, but sung from the heart."
S'kkk'k'aaa'rrrk would deliberately make a little noise some distance from her before speaking
"caw (softly). Hello there. I think that maybe we can help. We've been looking for the threat to the forest and I think it may be your axeman.
Sorry, I'm being rude. My name is S'kkk'k'aaa'rrrk. I am from the Eldest Tree where a Great Unkindess of my people live"
"Talking ravens!" The nymph exclaims, shrinking back. "You must be spies, spies of the dark ones!"
"No, we most certainly are not. We are trying to find out what is happening and to stop it. If we were spies, would I have introduced myself to you?
Who are these dark ones?"
"And what's wrong with being dark?" C'a'rrrar'kkk will ask, confused, "Is that some kind of racial profiling? Not cool!"
The dryad seems confused. "But... how can you not know? The shadow fey, the twisted ones, the corrupted voice that oozes out of blackness..."
"We have flown several days to reach here and are far from where we normally live. Dire tidings had reached us but not the details because it is so far. We are the first of our Unkindness to have come here for many lifetimes"
If allowed, I'd take 10 for a 13. If not allowed :
Upon hearing his allies' voices address the unseen vocalist, R’rrr ar’kkk flies down to accompany them. The Singer weaves her words around the truth, whilst the Shadow is as clumsy in speech as she is nimble in stealth. He fixes the female humanoid with an unblinking stare from his left eye. She has knowledge of that which we seek to defeat - we must not let this opportunity pass...
"We have seen a dark wind blowing from the North, a gale whose bluster shall rend our home to kindling if we fail to stop it. If you know this wind's guise or it's name, tell us, so that we might save our people from the Fate which befell your own."
The dryad's expression slowly softens as S’kkk’aaa’rrrk and then R’rrr ar’kkk speak. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she says at last. "But the twisted ones... they use ravens as spies sometimes, so I just... and the Verderer is..."
Tears hover at the corner of her eyes. "Once a might forest defender, now its mad slayer. His great axe silences the voices of leaves with the quaking of falling trees. He does lie to the north, his clearing ever-growing. But what can four little ravens do to the mad giant ever-cutting?"
"perhaps we can undo whatever turned him into a beast. Do you know anything of how that happened? And what can you tell us of these twisted ones?
We may be small but we are smart. If we can't outfight it we can outwit it"
Hmmm... the prophecies of the Elder Witch are couched in riddle and metaphor, yet a crazed giant with an axe does not seem particularly windy. A corrupted voice that oozes out of blackness, however - this could be the terrible dark wind that blows the giant toward the Eldest Tree.
The crow cocks his head in interest, hoping the dryad continues her tale...
"Only that the woods whisper of dark songs from the shadows, and the leaves tell of creeping darkness in the earth," the dryad replies. "How the whispers lodged in the Verderer's mind, they do not say. But I know the old stories, of the Midnight King's dark court, of dryads who listen no more to the song of leaves but rather long for a chorus of screams..." She shudders at the thought of it.
The Midnight King? A chorus of screams? R’rrr ar’kkk regards each of his companions in turn, his right eye lingering on T'rrr'aaa'rrr'k before he finally settles his gaze on C'a'rrrar'kkk with both eyes. He gently nudges the Singer's shoulder, and her Destiny, with his beak.
"Have you heard tales such as these, Singer?" he croaks.
C'a'rrrar'kkk rattles her feathers and considers the dryad's words.
(+5 for knowledge nature)
There are some old songs about the Midnight King--mostly using him as a shadowy power behind various sorrows that the Great Unkindness suffered. About the only thing the songs agree on is his power to twist the minds of others.
"Caw. That is NOT good. I hope one of you can think of something better because all I can think of is to fly onwards and hope to find out some more information about this."
So this Midnight King has troubled our kind before; it seems likely he is the real threat and the giant only a pawn. Perhaps if we find the giant, we'll find how the King is controlling him, and be able to free him of Midnight's hold.
R’rrr ar’kkk nods at the Shadow's words then inclines his head northwards, ready to continue when his companions are.
"Oh, you little ravens are very brave!" The dryad exclaims. "Perhaps it's possible our forest you'll save! Now let me give you a few little gifts..."
She rummages around on the ground beside her, then lifts up a small wad of cloth. "Cast this on the eyes of a foe, and for a time they'll be blinded."
She waits for one of you to take it, then holds up an acorn. "Swallow this acorn and soon you'll take the shape of a tree for a time."
After one of you takes the acorn, she adds, "One thing more I give you--a warning. Satyrs hunt the grove to the north, between us and the Verderer. They trust no voice from the sky, no speaking raven, for they fear the twisted ones more than I. If they see you, they will shoot you. Go around, for a longer journey is better than death."
R’rrr ar’kkk defers to his companions in accepting the gifts, confident in his mystical abilities and the Elder Witch's potions.
"Perhaps I should take the cloth? I might be able to sneak up on somebody and cover their eyes before they know that I'm there.
And DEFINITELY lets avoid the Satyrs. I prefer to NOT be shot at thank you very much :-).
Thank you very much for the help. Hopefully we'll be back to tell you how it all worked out"
"Yes, these Satyrs may not be out friends, but they're not the enemy we seek. Let's let our wings carry us past."
"Fly swift and sure, little ravens," the dryad says.
R’rrr ar’kkk takes wing behind the Shadow, following her lead as they skirt the region held by the satyrs. Had the Singer not been with us, we may have discounted the dryad's tales as frivolous legend. It is good to know that she is just as skilled at listening as she is at talking!
You fly throughout the day, staying clear of the satyrs' grove. Night falls before you reach your destination, but nothing disturbs your sleep.
About noon the next day, you hear him. Or rather, you first hear the crash of a falling tree, the cacophony of snapping branches and splintering wood as a forest giant topples to the ground. Flying nearer, you can hear... singing.
"Hmm dmm ha, chop them down.
La ta ha, bring them down.
Arahaha, burn the branches.
Hilaha, scorch the trunks."
Through the forest, you can just make out a figure, walking along the forest's edge, selecting his next victim. He must stand at least as tall as the lower branches of the trees, great axe slung over one shoulder as he walks over to another tree to fell.
"What sort of creature is this?"
You've heard of men with their nimble hands... but this creature must be a giant, which is like a men except much bigger. The only songs that include them are about clever raven heroes evading their notice to avoid being squashed, though they're supposed to be pretty stupid, too.
R’rrr ar’kkk alights upon a branch as soon as the giant comes into view, hoping to observe it from afar while avoiding it's notice.
Perhaps the Shadow can get a closer look. I wonder if the song he sings is his own, or is part of the Midnight King's sorcery?
"Anybody got a plan for dealing with this? I'd say try and draw it into a dangerous area. A bog or a river or something?"
With that, S'kkk'aaa'rrrk starts spiralling out and flying higher, looking for something that a giant might be lured into without being able to get back out again.
Or conceivably something like a tree that is almost ready to come down.
The giant seems to pay you no mind, for the moment, focused on chopping another tree down. He can't do it in one blow, it would seem, but it doesn't look like it will take more than a half-dozen or so.
Looking around, S'kkk'aaa'rrrk sees, a fair distance away, a large hut with a chimney, that must be where the giant lives. Up a small hill, she can also see a low, circular wall of some kind.
His home may hold some clue as to how he's being influenced by these outside forces. R’rrr ar’kkk indicates the hut to his companions with a nod of his head and takes to the air, being sure to circle far around the giant through the cover of the trees before crossing the open sky to his home.
I'll head to the hut as well but will fly pass the low stone wall on the way out of curiosity.
I'll do what C'a'rrrar'kkk did. Circle around (being very careful to not be noticed by the giant), getting to somewhere I can stealthily peak over the stone wall and then proceed to the hut.
The giant seems to either not notice or not care about you. Nearer to the low wall, you can see it's actually the mouth of an enormous well, deep enough the bottom is all but lost in shadow.
Voices seems to whisper on the wind near it.
The hut itself is a simple affair, but sturdily built. It has a massive flat wooden thing, and then some kind of giant nest. Embers smolder in a gigantic fire-blackened place on one side that has a tall part to let smoke out. It's very well-built--when the wind blows, you can't feel it at all inside.