Amara allows her hand to drift to the hilt of her sword, but doesn't draw it...yet. Instead she calls out into the murky depths, addressing whatever was making their presence known."Why don't you show yourselves, creature or creatures of this forest? We both know that the other is here do nothing is gained by stealth. Show yourselves and let us prevent any misunderstandings."
There is a long moment of silence, broken only by Brekarv's ediolon, cawing from a tree branch high overhead. Amara notes he looks a bit concerned he didn't see them coming, whoever they are.
Then, out from the shadows, on all sides, small figure appear. They are short, not more then three feet high, and bright green. At first Amara things they are wearing clothes made of moss but then she notices the beings themselves are made of the plants. Soft and green, they are humanoid shapes, with round dark eyes. The move with furtive, careful movements. Most hold simple spears, tipped with flint, a few simple axes.
They talk among themselves in a soft, fuzzy sounded speech. Finally one, the biggest, points to Amara and says something that means nothing at all to her. It cocks its head, waiting for an answer.
"Language difficulties." Iavn groans.
Amara points herself, mumering slowly and clearly "Amara". Then she bends down slowly and drops her weapon onto the forest floor.
A few of the green, mossy creatures follow suit, laying spears on the forest floor. After a moment though they pick them up, and start waving and pointing in a direction, leading deeper into the forest. Their soft, high voices drift across the pine needles.
"What are they?" Iavn mutters,And what do they want us to do?"
"I think they want us to follow them - which at this stage I don't mind doing although tread very carefully" Amara answers, slowly and carefully picking up her greatsword once again.
While invading deeper into the forest wasn't part of the original plan, Amara doesn't see the harm. She isn't entirely stupid though, and drags her greatsword behind her. While this might appear simple clumsiness, the actual practice is to create a small trail, so they could retrace steps if required.
Soon Amara is glad you is leaving a trail. Not that the little creatures are taking her on a complicated path, just that the endless rank upon rank of tress is quickly confusing. They pass several more pools of varying sizes, and begin edging small open glades and meadows. In one of these Amara spots a big, rough stone stage, big enough for several houses.
The moss men ignore these though, and they soon start heading downhill. here and there, bushes start to appear, covered with berries and fruit. While there is no clear order or rows, it is clear to Amara this is cultivated land, at least to some degree. The hillside grows steeper, the blanket of needles thicker. The darkness grows until Amara feels night has fallen, despite the birdsong and the heat.
Abruptly they reach the bottom of the dell. Here the trees are arranged in a towering circle, the ground littered with old pinecones. Among the circle are small simple shacks, made of fallen wood. In the very center, there is a massive old stump, jagged and black with age. Here and there, a few green leaves stick to it, looking out of place from the gnarled, battered trunk.
The moss men lead everyone in front of the old stump. They back away, giving them space. Amara wonders what is going on when the stump suddenly shifts. A pair of highs, high of the ground, appear, blinking in the gloom.
Which shock she realizes it isn't a stump but a treant! A shepherd of the trees! She had never seen one but she knew the imposing tree men were powerful guardians of the deep forests of the world. This one looked old, very old, the bark deeply wrinkled, cracked and aged. After a moment a huge mouth appears out of the wood, the voice deeper then anything Amara has ever heard.
"Hello, strangers." The pause after is filled with questioning.
"Hello Great Shepherd, I am Amara, a ships Captain, looking to establish a colony here. We encountered your children here and peacefully followed them here." Amara responds, her voice quiet in comparison. After a moments pause she casually drops her Greatsword to the ground. Not only would the gesture hopefully decrease tension, but it also didn't leave her helpless - unknown to anyone she didn't need a sword for a weapon in her true combat form.
Amara's words die away as the treant considers her slowly. She can see now vast wooden arms and legs, thicker then her entire body. But he doesn't look well, with whole areas looking dead and dry, like a dead standing tree.
'A colony? Of Humans? Where do you come from, Amara, Ship's Captain?" The voice rumbles, "Why do you choose this place?"
"I come from Absalom, or as near to it as any. I selected this place due to what appeared to be good, fertile land. It's a beautiful spot, and I had visions of creating a settlement high up in the trees" the skald answers, before hesitating slightly. "You don't look...as err vigorous as I would expect. Is there anything I could do to help?" she asks helpfully.
"You would cut down trees to feed your fires? To build your homes? To plant your crops?" The voice says, not as kindly as before, 'Humans have never built homes here, only the leshys who serve the forest." A huge hand waves at the moss men, who still stand respectfully around them. "Long have they served me and my own, helping protect this place..."
There is a long sigh, of weariness, "My condition is so bad that even a stranger can see it?" There is bitterness here but the treant quickly masters it, 'Why should I allow you to live in this land, to despoil my forest, master its resources for your own greed?"
Other people might have backed off, lied about true intent or avoided the situation, but Amara addressed the issue head on. It was important that both parties understood each other to prevent any miscommunication. "You should because I'm here asking. How many humans have you known to ask first before just taking? Do you think the next batch of settlers might be more understanding? I approached this from a peaceful point of view, I'm open about Co-existing, I'm asking to see if I can help with your condition, I want this to work. That said, both of us need to support this."
"And what would you do if I said no? If I told my folk to escort you back to the seashore and see you off? Would you fight, kill, set up your colony in the very glade where we sit?" The tone is more tired then angry.
"These are people that have spent weeks, months pinning hopes on this voyage. If you want to personally crush their hopes and dreams, as well as likely consign them to a slow death, due to a lack of supplies then go ahead. To answer your question though, no I would not kill you or your folk. We might peacefully resist non violently by I had no intentions of setting up a murdering force, in fact I'm disappointed you expect that of me Wise One" Amara responds in a sad tone.
"The hopes and dreams of humans are fleeting, changeable things. Weighed little against a forest such as this..."
I do not know you though, and apologize for an offense." The deep voice says, the anger receding, "I must be vigilant, even now, for the forest. Can you truly be surprised at my wariness?"
After a long pause, the looming treant says, "But my watch is coming to an end. As you noted, I am not well. I am the last of my people in these lands, the last in a long line."
A gap and Amara notes the moss men's dark eyes are filled with tears at this last.
'You speak of non-violence. Are you a fighter, a warrior?" The old being asks suddenly. Besides her, Brekarv laughs very quietly.
Amara reacts so quickly, its almost scary. Wheeling around she immediately triggers her Raging Song, eyes flashing red, as she grabs Brekarv by the scruff of his collar, claws sliding out of her hands as she snarls at Brekarv.
"You know, maybe you are right. Maybe I'm too patient. Maybe some people need a punishment before they get the message." she remarks in fury, giving into the baser urges. "Show me disrespect again, and you won't have a throat to laugh with. Get it?" she growls, before releasing him and shoving him back, forcing him over. "Now stay down".
Amara waits for a moment to see what Brekarv's reaction will be. Her body is humming, ready for a strike and instant transformation should he retaliate. If nothing is forthcoming, she turns away, and discharges her Raging Song, before addressing the treant again.
"I apologize" she remarks as if nothing had happened. "I would consider myself a skilled warrior, and I certainly don't need anyone to do my fighting for me. Its because I'm a fighter than I know when to fight...and when fighting is not required. In this situation with you, no, violence is not required, we are not opponents you and I, just having a discussion while approaching it from opposite viewpoints."
Amara throws the half-orc onto the ground, his dark, thick robes fluttering. He bounces hard, and from above his ediolon shrieks loudly. Brekarv waves a shaking hand at it, stilling.
'I meant no offense, Captian." he says, keeping his face low, 'I only meant to indicate it was funny he was asking you if you were a warrior. I saw you fight a drake with your bare hands. There is no doubt you are a fighter, Captain. I am sorry you mistook my laughter."
The other sailors stare at the fallen summoner, mouths agape.
The treant, after being addressed rumbles, "There is a danger in the woods, a danger to my people. In other times I would deal with it myself but with my current condition...." The dark eyes twinkle slightly, high above the needle strewn forest floor. 'Perhaps you can help us and earn my permission?"
Amara puts the issue with Brekarv to one side and focuses on the treant. "I decline your offer. While I am no craven, and I have no issues in helping protect your own people, should I fail, it leaves many, many people stuck without a captain and nowhere to stay and unable to go. Promise me you will protect my people if I fall while addressing this "danger" of your's, and then I'll help."
A leafy eyebrow raises on the huge face. 'Hmmm' but it is a sound of thought, not of anger.
'I would know little of how to lead humans, they would need their own leader." A long pause, 'But yes, if you were to fall in this task, I would do my best and order my people, to help your followers. It would be a fair exchange and an honorable one."
The great Shepard of the Trees nods his vast head in acceptance of the deal.
"Fair deal then, and I offer my assistance. Do you want to tell me more about this danger then?" Anara asks carefully.
'Certainly." the old treant shifts slightly, swaying like an old tree in a wind.
"There is a darkness growing in part of the forest. I do not know if it came from the sky, from under the earth or from a distant land. Whatever they are, they are growing. These..beings, have taken over part of the forest and it now serves them. Animals, plants all that enter are turned to their own purpose. They seem to have some...control over beings that wander into that hollow. Even some of my own folk have been lost."
An angry rumble enters the deep voice, "They care nothing for the plants or animals under their control. They hack trees down senselessly, spoil water, kill animals, all for no purpose. It is evil work! If I was younger..." A massive fist appears and slams into the ground near Amara. The forest floor shakes and a rain of old needles coats them. She notes she could sit in the indentation the blow leaves behind.
"My people are not warriors and are helpless before them, and I am old and dying. Can you help them?" A pause then, "It would help establish a good start between our two peoples."
Amara frowns a little bit, inwardly a little concerned as a thought strikes her."I'll help, as I said, but I'm asking for any and all assistance you can give me. I'm a good warrior, but I cannot dent the soil like you can, and if I fail it creates even more problems for you. So let's make sure I can have all the help I can get, to assure mutual success for both parties."
The treant rumbles agreement but says the bass voice doleful, "I cannot go into battle. I can barely move from this spot and would prove more hindrance then ally, I am afraid. I cane give you some of my folk to guide you, but they are not great warriors. What else shall you require?"
The skald shrugs to indicate that she doesn't care too much."Yep, a guide is going to be fine, but I was more wondering if you did anything specific or different to handle visitors such as this. Was it merely a hit first and hit hard sort of thing?"
The vast wooden stump of a creature shrugged, sending a cascade of dead moss and leaves towards the forest floor. 'When I was young and strong, I would simply have crushed these trespassers under my feet, smashed them with my fists....I do not know how you fight. You may certainly scout the area first."
Amara's expression clears slightly. "Ah, so no special tactics, rituals, or anything, just taking them down head on. Well, that shouldn't be too much of a problem, but we can see how things go."
Turning attention to the rest of her party, Amara addresses them all. "I Know each of you signed on tot volunteer, but this is different. If anyone wants to come with, then by all means, but I'm holding no-one accountable for this one. Brekarv, that free pass includes you as well this time, so if you want to sit this one out, then no hard feelings. Otherwise, I might as well investigate this darkness and see what I can make of it"
Iavn, the once pirate turned sailor says, 'Will we be going back to the others? Seems unwise to leave them uninformed, Captain."
Brekarv, still on the ground says, 'It will be an honor to go with you, Captain." She doesn't detect any anger or vengeance in his tone, which is rather surprising.
Yes Iavn, you and the others will inform them as to what is happening. Brekarv, while your offer is both honourable and welcome, I don't think the colony should lose two of its best fighters immediately after landfall - they would need your experience if I don't come back"
Orders complete, Amara huffs slightly, picking up her weapon from the forest floor, and carefully slings it a cross her back before nodding at the treant.
"I believe that I am ready now."
When Amara speaks to the treant, it bows the massive head, "May blessing of the forest go with you, human. I hope you succeed in this task and begin, perhaps, the start of a new friendship between our people."
After...
Brekarv stands up, robes covered with matted needles, 'Going alone is unwise, Captain. It leaves too much to chance..."
"That it does Brekarv, but I don't see an alternative. I will not leave the colonists undefended, and if I should fail, then it is going to be left up to you and the rest of the crew to ensure that they are settled." Amara answers, placing a hand on the half orc's shoulder and gripping it firmly in a small gesture of solidarity.
The half-orc, face nearly hidden in the gloom slowly nods. 'If you think that is best, Captain. Are you going to head out now?"
Iavn looks up through the roof of tree limbs, "About noon or so, so you should have time before night falls."
"Best to locate things quickly I think, and deal with them before things develop further. If the forest is in danger, then it's best to move now, so I might as well head off. Wish me luck everyone" the skald remarks almost happily, seeking to dispel worry and sow confidence that this was just a minor setback that could be easily overcome - hiding her true feelings on the topic.
Everyone wishes her luck, shakes her hand, pats her on the back. She has a feeling, other then Brekarv they are happy she is going alone. Soon two little moss-men appear at their elbows, wide-bellied and dark-eyed.
The treant speaks again., breaking into their converstation, "The one with the spear is named...well, you cannot say it in your tongue. He is a leshy, I believe you call them. In any case, he will lead you to the darkness. The other will lead your friends back to the shore."
A pause then, in a kind voice, 'Do not risk his life anymore then you must. He is a leader among his kind, although he may not look it to your eyes."
Amara nodded politely. "You have been most gracious, Old One, and you have my assurances that I will not place him into any danger, as long as he can guide me to the darkness, then I'll do whatever I can to take over from there" she mummers, trying to fix the characteristic's of the leshy into her mind so that she could pick him out in future... assuming that she survived that long.
The leshy bows to her, says something in a high-pitched, buzzy tone that means nothing to Amara. She notes he is slightly taller, fatter then the others, and has a blue-ish tint to the mossy skin.
He cocks a round head at her and points tot he deep forest with his spear.
Amara also bows to the leshy, nodding her head politely at the high-pitched tone that she doesn't understand, not entirely wanting to hurt its feelings. Keeping her sword arm loose and free, she follows the leshy deeper into the forest, keeping an eye on the direction its spear points to know the way.
Amar, following her guide, quickly vanishes back into the deep woods. The towering trees surround her on all sides, standing like silent towers. The leshy is silent among the plants, moving with surprising speed and dexterity, with hardly a needle or fern leaf being moved.
They travel for several hours, the small man stopping often to let Amara catch up. She sees no trace of animals, but hears many birds from the distant boughs above. A few times the sailor also spots the ancient marks, cut into the thick bark of the trees. Her guide ignores them however, and they head in deeper.
Soon the ground begins to head downward, steeper and steeper. It grows damp, and Amara can feel moisture everywhere. The dark tree trunks glisten with algae and scum. The pools of water become much more common, many of them looking green and unwholesome in the dim light. Even the air seems to grow colder and danker.
Finally they come to a natural line of stones and the leshy stops. He crouches down behind the rocks and points with his spear. Amara finds the leshy hard to read but he appears quite frightened.
Amara wants to communicate how brave the guide is, but struggles to do so with the language barrier. Bending down to the creatures level, she smiles encouragingly. Then, she carefully points at the leshy, and raises her fists slightly, similar in posture to how he was holding his spear. She does this a few times, nodding before heading deeper into the forest. If the leshy follows, she will point at it, and then point at a nearby landmark, holding her hand up in a universal "stop" as she winds deeper into the forest, now alone.
The leshy waits behind the rocks, shining round eyes fixed on her. Amara doesn't get very far after she leave shim. Only a few trees more and she pauses.
Ahead of her is a large clearing, more of a hollow, dark as night. It is surrounded by thick, tree trunks all coated in green, oozing slime. In the center is the largest pool she can see yet, the surface coated with lumpy, bulbous algae. Gone are the clean scents of pine sap and needles. here, everything smells of rank rot and decay, of wetness out of the sun.
Then Amara sees them. Hovering over the stagnant pool are floating spheres of moss, each with several red eyes that are randomly spaced over the surface of the sphere, looking out through eyelid-like gaps. Long tendrils of fuzzy tendrils hang down. A few stretch out to dark, vauge shapes crouched on the shore of the small pond.
Amara treads very carefully into the hollow. The slime, and scent of decay at a chill into the air and she shivers slightly due to the temperature. Slowly, Amara draws on her magic, sharpening her eyes and bolstering her courage in the silence, relying on her spellcasting to give her a defensive advantage should combat break out. Her body glowing with arcane power, she steps a little closer to the pool, trying to get close enough, but avoid straying to the waters edge - she was well aware of possible predators that might leap out.
"My name is Amara, and I would like to request that you name yourself. I can see your eyes watching me, so you and I, lets be friendly first, and discuss the situation we find ourselves in."
As Amara steps out the floating balls of moss jerk and some spin. Slowly they move about, creating a line of them, four spheres covered with red glowing eyes. The tendrils start to flex and twist in the air, rippling.
Now closer, Amara can see the shapes on the other shore are animals....each with a long tendril running from his head to a sphere. The skald can see a captive moose, a wolf and something else hidden by a rock. They stand stock still, eyes glazed.
The mossy sphere lets out a buzzy, rasping noise that means nothing to Amara. She worries language will again stop her, but then she hears a voice inside her head.
It is a soft, clinging voice.
"Do you offer yourself for the melding?" It asks and the balls visibly quiver with anticipation.
Amara is more than a little discomfited by the sights of the glazed eyed animals. Its certainly something that strikes her as...unnatural but she stops short of labeling it to herself as "evil" perhaps the creature had a childlike innocence. So, she is careful in how she responds, willing to talk until she learns a little more.
"No, I do not offer myself for the melding" the skald responds, choosing her words with care. "Then again, perhaps that is because I don't know what that involves or entails. I don't know what you are, or anything about whats led you to this place, what you are doing here, what a melding entails and so on. Why don't we talk and you educate me?"
'Educate.." The voice in her head says musingly.
'Why speak when we can show you so much more clearly. Step closer to the pool, human."
"I think I'd prefer a verbal form of communication as I weigh up the merits of melding. I fear if I tread to close to the water some...over-eagerness might occur" Amara remarks carefully, not at all moving from her spot as she watches the eyes carefully.
The hovering sphere turns slightly, pointing a new glowing red eye on Amara, "Then why are you here? This our home, what right do you have to enter and ask us questions?"
Their is a murmur of assent from other voices, all sounding in the quiet of her mind.
The animals on the far shore are unmoving, motionless.
Amara keeps her tone respectful, even though she found the tone the sphere used accusatory in nature.
"I am here, because this just isn't your home, its home to others as well. For instance, I'm here now, also in this forest. Its for everyone not just one individual. So I'm here, asking questions, especially after you asked me your first question about a melding. Did you not predict that I might have questions of my own?"
'We care nothing for your questions." the sphere says, the voice in her head full of scorn, 'We have come to this place from below, and we wish to explore it, learn about it. The best way to do that is subsume it onto ourselves, to become one with it. Others wishes and desires mean very little to us."
There is a short pause and then, "Kneel before us and all your questions will be answered. The results will be the same if you resist, merely more painful for you. We know your kid dislike pain."
Very slowly, Amara keeps he body lower into the ground, bending little by little, one hand flat and raised, palm up to show no threat, before she lowers her sword to the grass.
"You seem like you like games", she addresses the sphere in a voice of curiosity, as she finally leaves the sword on its own and then retreats backward a few paces, lightly touching herself, causing
2 duplicates to appear of herself, in addition to her true form. "If I can get to my weapon before you can stop me, then I win, and you leave here and never bother anyone or anything else again, you go back to where you came from. If however, you can make me submit before than, and then well, I guess you win. How does that sound?"
The spheres looks confused for a moment. Obviously they had not been expecting anything like this. They seem to waver int he air and Amara has feeling they are in quick debate, although all is silent to her ears.
Then without warning two of the mossy creatures fly right toward the blade, tendrils reaching out.
From the other side of the pool, the animals move into action. The moose charges into the water, sending up a great splash. The wolf lightly jumps the water, landing on Amara's side, utterly silent except for two red eyes glaring at her.
Amara takes a deep breath. She knows the strain about what she is about to do will hurt, but she didn't see an alternative. She needed to unleash the rage, the inner beast and to be honest, her blood sang with such desire every day, the rush, the thrill of crushing something with pure natural strength, something she held back through sheer force of will. Put simply, Amara decided to cut loose.
Amara tapped into her inner rage, body lengthening as she falls to her knees. Her eyes glow red with rage, clothing ripping and tearing, as she surrenders entirely to her anger, transforming herself into a full Ram. Giving a victorious roar, she glares menacingly at the spheres.