The Harvest Moon Consortium

[Winterhawk99]

The journal entry continues:

I must talk now about my pain and what has happened. It was the day before hibernation. I was deep in the forest gathering green onions and apricots for the tribes. I saw a band of gibberlings hunting and scavenging anything they could find in the distance. Instead of confronting them knowing there were too many for me to take on I decided to go around them using sanctuary. I cast the spell. It attracted a spell whisp.

I had to fight it because it could smell my magic. I cast an ice dagger at the thing, and it exploded. When it did, I felt a sting on my side. Something I had never felt before. The animals of the forest suddenly saw me as an enemy and came at me meaning to kill me. I could not bring myself to defend and possibly kill animals that I mean to protect. Hunting is one thing. Yes, I do hunt but like most kin I also respect the balance of the forest. I did not want to hurt them for fur or meat. So, I ran.

I fled to the circle using my ability to charm creatures as much as I could. I made it back fairly wounded but not so deep I could not recover. The animals of the circle then came after me. Some that even knew me. Some that I have helped and healed in the past even befriended in a way. Still they saw me as something else. I fled to the mother tree.

A hawk and stag followed me in. There they cornered me. The hawk shredded my face and neck with its claws. While the stag punched holes in it with its horns. I struggled even getting control of the stag for a moment of time but my charm slipped away in less than a minute. I went down and passed out for a moment. Blood and pieces of my face were everywhere now. I struggled and managed to get back up.

That’s when the Stag kicked me in the throat. I passed out for hours. Much later in the day I woke up in a large pool of my own blood, my face ripped apart. I managed to crawl my way to the high druid and elders. There they treated me. They healed me and stitched my face back together, sometimes going down to the lower levels to find ribbons of flesh left at the battle scene. They slowly put my face back together. I found out I could no longer speak. I signed to the High druid asking him to bring my voice back, but he said it would take a miracle or high healing magic to bring it back. I sat until late at night crying. When I had exhausted myself nearly to the point of collapse, I put the palm of my hand to the mother tree and touched me locket. I asked her what had happened.

The mother tree told me that when I killed the whisp a magical connection was made with the scar and me. Whatever it is behind the veil of mystery recognized my spirit. Because it twice failed to kill my spirit it choose to do something different. It marked me as an ally and enemy of the forest. Thus, everything in the forest turned against me except for the trees. Instead of trying to kill my spirit, it tried to kill my flesh with the very thing I love most the forest itself. Because I did not think to go to them first what happened, happened.

I finally went down to the circle. Luthias was there. I came up and hugged him tightly weeping on his chest. When he and others saw my face, they were appalled. When I told them the story of what happened they were horrified.

I could not bring myself to see them knowing what I looked like. After a short time, I found a secluded spot and went to reverie. Even my memories turned against me as I remembered the hawk and deer that night.

The next morning, I saw a huge group of kin getting ready to go on an expedition. I could not bring myself to join them. What would they think if they saw my chewed-up face with hundreds of stitches crisscrossing it. I went to my nest and cried. Thinking most will abandon me now as my own tribe did.

[Winterhawk99]

The journal entry continues. After the crowd of people dispersed in the afternoon. I came back to the circle. Few were there but one was my friend Elithaela. I kept my cowl down so no one could see my face as it is now. She and the few in the circle started talking to me. I used sign and writing to explain to them that I could not speak. Elithaela did not look well so I wrote asking her what was wrong.

She told me that she had a wound on her shoulder and asked me if I could sew it up. I nodded and got my kit out. I peeled off her shoulder armor finding a very deep and long wound. I gave her a coca leaf for the pain and started. I stopped quickly and asked her to come to the pond to which she did.

I had her lie down on her side. I washed the wound and started to stitch in earnest. She kept asking me to try to make the scar small. Fortunately for her, unlike the Elders and high druid that sewed me up I’m very good at this and did a wonderful job. As I was tying up the last of the thread and cutting. She started to complain about not feeling well. I told her to spit the coca leaf out. I finished up by putting a Neutralize Poison on the stitches to prevent infection. Elithaela immediately started to seize.

I got the rest of her top armor off and examined her along with the side effects she was experiencing. Her back had deep, severe bruises, and there were many other smaller wounds. She started losing her stomach. Her heart was a whisper, and her breathing was ragged and faint. I looked for color and texture of the stomach contents. In a little over a minute, I figured it out but did not know which of the plants she used. She used massive amounts of grain extracts to keep herself from feeling the pain she experienced.

I had to counteract the massive amounts of drugs she self-medicated with. I knew that the fluids in a Venus flytrap would work but I also knew there were none in the Y’tellarien. I did know something else. I went into the pond near the shore and searched around finding what I needed: A pitcher plant.

I cut the pitcher off and poured the contents of it into a bowl straining the insects out. I mixed it with powdered Maral root. I needed to send a shockwave through her entire system to counteract the effects of her overdose. It worked. Elithaela regained consciousness for a moment and started to try to move around but now the neutralize poison that takes away all poisons including some medicines combined with the pitcher plant and Maral root taking away whatever drug was blocking her pain all receded.

She felt the full pain of her injuries and went straight into shock. I rolled her over on her back, took off my cloak and set it under her feet. I then rushed through my pack and found my heavy diplomatic gown. I put that over her body. Lastly, I turned her head to the side and cleared her mouth. I thought she might pull through this, however now I faced another problem. She could seize again at any moment, and her back was in no condition for major tremors. I needed to keep her from moving. I tied her ankles together and looked at her. There was no way I could hold her alone. I ran to the circle.

Luckily there were several other healers there. Diolliun, Vaelia, and Shalee joined me along with half the men at the circle. I wrote on a paper to the men to “GO AWAY” After all Elithaela was half naked. I was still working on her and Shalee threw another Neutralize poison on her completely defeating my own medications I already gave the Elithaela.

Her heart started racing like a nightmare and her blood started to pump through her body too quickly. I had to think fast and mixed Lavander and garlic making a muscle relaxant. She started to settle down but then her pulse dropped low.

Diolliun after watching a good while started to direct. I, along with the three finally deduced that there was also an elemental aspect to Elithaela’s condition. Static electricity had begun to collect in her body way too much.

I touched my locket and envisioned growing roots from my feet. I then put my other palm on her chest. It worked at least ½ the charge coursed through my own body and was dispersed when it got to my feet. It hurt me badly though. I screamed but no sound would come out of my mouth and several dozed of my face stitches popped open and started to bleed with serum and droplets of blood.

Vaelia found necrosis in her lungs too. Dillion divided us up and told Vaelia to work on her bruised back and told me to take the necrosis out of her lungs. He told us to do it one at a time. Vaelia worked first and took a good long while. He then turned to me. I called up my greatest healing magic and touched my locket, putting my hand on Elithaela’s heart again. This time I fed the energy slowly straining to control the magic. Holding it back as much as I could so it could fill up her lungs and work as a spreading healing spell. It did work but the strain of controlling that amount of magic made several dozed more stiches pop on my face.

The good news was that Elithaela finally stabilized. I held her hand once we knew it was over until she came too. The other’s left. After an hour she looked at my bloody face and asked if I wanted her to resew it.

[Winterhawk99]

Once again, the Journal continues:

Late in the afternoon several hours later Hetaerina came into camp talking of a shadow around the river. Luthias and Rociel were there along with me. We decided to all go and see if we could take care of it. As soon as they came out of the circle, they all started running. I am not sure but last time I talked to someone you had to have a magic weapon to even hit a shadow. Thankfully they slowed down enough I could put lightning on Luthias and Hetaerina’s sword but they ran off again before I could put magic weapon on them. I chased after and we ran into the undead. I touched my locket throwing down a totem of blinding sun near it. as they attacked the thing. I then touched it again, throwing down a totem of thunderous might and started to shoot at it.

The others were completely ineffective in striking the thing. Their swords and hammers went straight through it. The shadow rushed past them and came after me. I ran around in circles hoping for the others to stop it long enough I could throw a spell. They could not.

I was becoming sorely wounded by its touch and felt myself weakening. I fled to the Starlight court. There again I ran around in circles trying to give time for my friends to pin it but again they could not and it took me down for a moment.

Hetaerina told me to flee to the circle to which I did. The shadow followed me. It chased me all around the circle. I Someone shouted for me to go to the mother tree to which I did and there it could not follow. I restored myself and healed myself. I waited quite some time. and went out. The shadow was fighting several people and rangers between the circle tree and mother tree. Finally, I could do something. I touched my locket and called up a cure serious wounds to hurt it. I figured it would hurt it very badly but when I went to touch it someone knocked my arm away and I hit a ranger instead.

I healed him but did nothing to the shadow. The shadow immediately broke the fence and came straight at me again. I had to flee to the mother tree. When I came back the shadow was gone. I healed everyone I could. When my spells ran out, I broke out aid kits and healed the rest that way.

The shadow seemed focused on me whenever I was around it. Was it the Scar that sent it after me? I do not know. More likely my totem of the blinding sun hurt it and every time I came around it the danger I posed was recognized. I just don’t know why it was so fixated on me, but it scared me. What if the Scar did send it? What if I myself pose a great danger to all my friends just being here? It haunts my thoughts.

[Winterhawk99]

Eibhlin puts her old green dress on and goes up to her nest. She wears no shoes or anything under. Just the loose dress and her locket. She settles in the small branch and leaf space that looks like a giant squirrel’s nest. Inside it has barely enough room for her to sit comfortably. She writes in her journal for a long time throwing up a light spell so she may see. After she is done, she lays it beside her and leans back against the wall. She touches her locket.

Eihblin’s breathing and blood nearly stop as she goes into a coma like state that she calls hibernation. Her spirit pulls out of her body. As she does her hair and dress turn into deep purple leaves and the nimbus that forms around her spirit turns a grey color. The world changes for her. A mix of blue, white and grey mists surround her. Her spirit sight is permanently activated while she is in this place she calls the spirit world. It is what others know, as the border ethereal.

She steps out of the nest and onto the branch of one of the two tree spirits that she made her sanctuary between being that the two trees’ branches intermix here in this space between them. She looks at both trees in turn. ‘Should I try my voice here, Do I have it here.’ She thinks to herself.

She hears a voice in her head, ‘laughter, Silly sapling you are of spirit here in this world. You have a voice the one you think for yourself. Feel your face. It is once again smooth for though your body is broken, your spirit is whole and strong.’

She sighs and opens her mouth hesitantly, “Thank you.” Then she giggles, “I do have a voice here. The one I have always had.” She hears laughter from the other tree spirit whose branches make up the foundation of her nest. Then it says, “We will guard your body as always. Go to the circle tree.”

Eibhlin flies down to the ground that has a slight bounce to it. though flying is a misnomer here. It is much more similar to a controlled levitation or floating. It takes some effort to move in any direction more than in the real world. She slowly moves to the circle tree navigating by the position where the tree spirits are as by now each she knows. The edge of her vision is only about 20 yards so she must go by either memory, terrain immediately around her or by the tree spirits she sees since they do not move. They shine with their own greenish/brown or greenish/grey nimbus.

She walks slowly. Everything, not spirit or alive looks like constructs of the same mists that envelop everything. A stone wall in the real world looks like a stone wall made of misty proto matter. She can walk right through it as nothing of stone or wood here presents no barrier if it is not alive.

As she walks to the circle, she sees several forms sitting or standing around as she makes her way to the tree. She passes the tumbleweed on fire as she gets close to it. She wonders whose soul that is. Unlike other ethereal travelers that see others in the real world as if through a frosted window. Eibhlin sees straight into their souls. Her view is slightly clearer, but she does not see their bodies just their spirits. Most spirits to her look the same as they do in life. They look like a version of themselves only as slightly blurry phantoms but some look quite different.

As she has learned, all spirit walkers take on aspects of the spirits they deal with and make pacts with. . She herself has grown strong as a shamaness thus her soul almost looks perfectly like a dryad. She knows Elithaela has great white wings of snow on her back….why……. She still does not know.

Also, souls with very strong connections to an emotion or something they value also look quite different. She has seen Val’torin’s soul at the ritual. He looks like a tall treant, and Easel who looks like a regal albino elk. There are some souls she knows are counted as kin but does not know who they are like the tumbleweed on fire, or a crow made completely of shadow.

She passes the tumbleweed and sees Elithaela talking to Ynshael while cooking as she moves inside the circle. She hears a voice. “Are you quite finished Sapling there is much to do.”

She puts her hands to the sides, palms up and slowly levitates several feet looking at the tree. “What do you wish of me? I have questions.”

“You always have question’s Sapling. Do first. Questions in time. The grand old one wants to see you. She has work.”

“Work? Here?”

“Did you not think that we would have work for you here as we do in your world. Go to the old one. She awaits you, Totem bearer.”

She floats back down to the ground slowly walking, keeping the tree to her right. When she rounds the corner, she sees the mother tree. Brightest of all spirits in the area. She walks up to it. then levitates this time up 50 ft. “You have a task Old One?”

A great groaning voice fills her mind, “Eibhlin of the Grey ones. Welcome daughter of trees. I do have a task for you. Important. Someone has come here to our world. A kin of yours lost, frightened, confused. He must not go into despair. Convince him and bring him to me. I will send him home.”

“Where is this kin?”

“Follow the path to the forge then go up into the boughs. Wander the homes of your kin. He will notice you.”

Eibhlin floats back down to the base of the tree and finds the path up to the forge. She moves slowly. She catches sight of the Warmaster who to her looks like a elven/boar hybrid that walks on two legs. Centuries battle and training have changed his spirit to take on that form. Eibhlin moves on to the forge then looks across to the door up to the boughs that is always locked but to those that live high up in this section of the Y’tellarien. Here she simple walks right through the door and levitates up instead of taking the rope ladder.

Once up at the tree house she looks through each one going through the walls and places not made of living tree. It takes just a little while when she comes upon a home. There are three spirits here in the home. One is sitting on a misty bed holding another spirit. This one a child. The last spirit is in the corner of the room weeping. She stops and observes as she does not know the situation yet.

The weeping spirit begins to speak. He gets down on his knees and clasps his hands together as if in prayer in front of the sitting spirit with the child. “Slaine! Please Slaine! Speak to me! Why will you not recognize me. I have tried and tried to reach you from this prison! Please look at me. What has happened?”

Getting the gist of what happened Eibhlin steps into view. The spirit startles, stands and backs away to a corner, “T’was You Dryad that did this to me! Charmed me into this prison of mist! Speak or I will….”

Eibhlin speaks, “Do nothing. You will do nothing for you have no power here nor do you have any power over me.”

“RELEASE ME FROM YOUR CHARMS, SPRITE!”

Eibhlin touches her locket casting Ghostly visage. Here it looks quite different. The nearest tree spirit sends forth its magic fine grained wooden armor looking much like plate mail surrounds her. It molds itself and attaches to her very body. She asks, “What is your name?” Seeing what just happened, the spirit collapses on the floor and begins to weep again. Eibhlin continues. “I did not do this to you. I was sent by the mother tree to help you. What is your name?”

She waits, giving the spirit a moment. In time he looks up, “the mother tree?” She nods. “Rostrick, my name is Rostrick.”

She remembers something, a post on the commune rock then looks over at the other two spirits. “Your bond mate and child?” He nods. She thinks about how she need to do this then says, “I’m sorry Rostrick something happened. Your grief as led you here instead of where you should walk now. Are you faithful?”

“My arrow flies true.”

She nods. “One of the Hunter’s then. Please sit I will try to explain. May I sit with you. It is your home.”

He swivels around and sits down on his but, “Aye.”

Eibhlin dispels her spirit armor. The pieces fly off her and seem to dissolve in the thick mist. She goes over and sits beside him. What is that last thing you remember?”

“We went on a grand patrol in the forest to take on the rot that seem to pervade it. We fought shadows. So many shadows. I must have gotten knocked out in the battle. I awoke and came home after getting my bearing in this soup of a fog.”

“No animals recognized you? No gibberlings, trolls, spiders or any harmful creature even moved to engage you?”

The spirit seems to think. “No in fact they didn’t T’was strange.”

Eibi nods, “People are often confused when they encounter the veil. I am sorry.”

“What do you mean, sprite.”

“You…. She pause… You never made it past the battle Rostrick and your grief binds you here. It is the only way I can say it. I wish I could be gentle about it. Your body is gone now. You are a spirit. If you linger too long you will become a ghost. Your grief will turn to madness, and you will come to hate all life. The Mother tree has sent me so that you may make the next step to Arvandor.”

“Your lying! You have to be lying! I can’t be dead. I have a family! Even if true what will become of them! My bond mate. My daughter!”

Eibhlin gently takes his hand and holds it. “They will be well and protected. You know this. The elves of the Y’elltarien are a family. One big happy… crazy family… They will make sure your family is taken care of, and your daughter will grow to be a fine woman. I will look in on them from time to time if you wish.”

“No tricks, No charms.”

Eibhlin can’t help but smile. “No tricks or charms from me. Let it settle and know that when they are tired and elder, they will eventually come to join you again in the heavens. You will be a family once again.”

“How do you know, Sprite?”

“I have faith.”

The spirit elf sits there for a very long time. Hours in fact. Eibhlin holds his hand the entire time and waits. He finally looks at her. “Can I say goodbye?”

She looks back, “I will ask. She looks up. I ask the trees for a boon. This spirit wishes to say his goodbyes before willing moving on.”

An answer comes to her head, “Yes.”

She looks back to him. “Go ahead hug them.”

The spirit stands and hugs his wife and child together. Just then a strong breeze goes through the home. The woman’s hair waves back strands on the ends separate. She stands up holding her child and looks around. Walking to the door. The male spirit looks confused and pained. “They did not feel me.”

Eibhlin looks up at him. “That is not True Rostrick. They felt you. They felt your strength succoring them. They know you are here though they cannot sense you. It was the breeze.” She stands and offers her hand.

He takes it timidly now. “What will it be like?”

Eibhlin looks at him and smiles, “I do not know but I do know it will be wonderful.”

[Winterhawk99]

Eibhlin goes back to her nest after being with friends for 5 days a wonderful reprieve from her studies with the spirits. She throws up a light spell and writes in her journal before slowing her body down to go into hibernation.

I hibernated for 10 days then came back for 5. When I arrived, the news was that a Wyvern was spotted in the blood gorge. It may even have made a nest there. I did not see it but have heard accounts of it from those that did.

There was not much going on these last 5 days. I can whisper now but not speak. It hurts to make sound. The good news is that it hurts less now than when I woke from my sleep. Perhaps, just perhaps there is a chance that I will get a voice back though I fear it will not be the same as it was before the attack. If so, I have once again defeated the Scar in a small way. I take hope in that.

I met a new person at the circle. I believe I was the first to greet him and welcome him along with a few others. It was late at night when he wandered into the enclave. He is an Ar-Tel. A very particular young man that often talks in poetic stanzas. His name is Nuar’verthal. He is a sun-elf from the Evermeet forest area. At first, I thought him some form of bard, but he is not. He is in fact a holy warrior of Corellon. As I learned more about the young man, I noticed just how naive and young minded he is. I and a few others took him adventuring in the bug caves and he did well enough. I coated him with stone armor and magicked his sword with electricity to make sure he didn’t needlessly die on his first expedition. He did really well.

Still the young-minded part of him needs correcting if he is to truly be an asset to the tribes. I quietly talked to some of the rather manly elves around to see if they would look after him and teach him what he needs to mature. Some say they would help him. This is something I cannot do being a woman. A man needs to teach a boy how to be a man. If a woman tries…… It never goes well. Nor should a man ever try to teach a girl how to become a woman that goes equally as bad. So I will leave it up to the men in the tribes to teach young Nuar’verthal how to mature into his full potential.

Silvaine held a nurturing nature event. We had a fairly large group. I did scout and flanking duty using all my sanctuaries to do so. The first place we went to was where we performed the ritual. I scouted around and notified them of a giant beetle to the northeast. I did not see the meenlock in the western corner but helped down it when they came upon it. At the spot of the ritual, we helped heal the land of the battle. Most cleared bush while I was on scouting duty. Near the end I saw one of the trees still scared from the blood that oozed out of it during the fated day we tried to learn about the scar. I placed my hands upon it and hummed the ancient chant, healing it. The beetle came back into our field of view, and we had to put it down too. We had no choice in that case.

After doing that we moved south and into the Blood Gorge. There is a particular tree there that likes to tangle its roots around those that walk by and stop them from going anywhere. It has just matured enough to gain a spirit. This spirit is a truly mischievous one. It caught me with its tendrils, and we had a bit of a discussion on how a tree should act. I doubt the discussion helped. The spirit just laughed and called me a sapling. Little bugger. I might have to bring an axe next time.

Once we were along the top of the gorge Silvaine took everyone up on the side of a hill. Along the way she talked about the different kinds of trees of the forest. I stayed out of the conversation mostly. On the side of the hill, she helped the others plant different tree seeds. I got up on a vantage point and guarded them and after a while they formed a circle below me discussing the planting of both seeds and saplings. I sat down still keeping watch and saw some ginger around me. I dug up a few of the tubers for Elithaela.

At one point someone asked. “How do you know what tree seed to plant in the area.” I wasn’t quiet paying attention enough and said, “The trees will tell you which seeds to plant” Quite absently.

Someone reminded me that not everyone can talk to trees. I felt so embarrassed. I think I blushed. Then apologized. We went home shortly after. It was fun. I do have to hone my scouting a bit better. I was late in calling out the beetle and I missed the meenlock altogether.

Songbird showed her face early one morning and wanted to dance with someone. There was no one there to dance with so I danced with her. She speaks sign language, so I did not have to whisper. We waltzed around the circle. I had not danced since I was perhaps 90. It turned out to be fun. I enjoyed it. She also told me that shadow creatures were disturbing her dreams.

I talked to her at length about these shadows in her sleep. I told her to think of a strong animal that she liked just before sleeping. Think of the animal as being armored up and being a strong defender then when she falls asleep, she may bring that protector with her to her dreams. If she does, the imaginary protector will chase off all the shadows so she can have better dreams.

I am not sure that will work but I heard from some of the wiser of my own tribe do this with their children and it worked. I do hope it works in her case too.

While we were dancing Dilliun the druid came into the circle and was leaving. I ran over to him and begged him a moment of time. I told him I could help him……maybe that I had ask a boon from my spirits for him.

You see I saw him praying many an eve at the circle tree, so I asked the spirits for a boon. They said yes.

After some talk, he complied. I led him to the circle tree. I placed one palm on the tree and told him to hold my wrist. He did. Then I touched my locket to connect with the spirit within. Once I did that, I said now you can speak with the tree. I will shut myself off from the conversation and you can talk to it. Do not worry, it will answer.

After that, I shut my self off from whatever he and the tree discussed. It took about 15 minutes, and he released my hand. He thanked me then rushed out of the circle to the path down by the river. I think I helped him. I hope I did.

In the five days I was in the real world the elves seemed to be in reprieve. Not many came to the circle those 5 days except during the Nurturing of the forest. I went out on my own many times collecting fruits and herbs and placing the baskets in the circle or going to the bug and spiderling cave alone to train. It was very slow. I did not even see Elithaela in these last 5 days. Some that came seemed to not want to talk to me, so I gave them courtesy and stayed away.

Now I must go into the mists and learn from my spirits, perhaps do more work. Perhaps I have hope I might be able to speak again. I’m starting to have hope that perhaps, just perhaps, my throat will continue to heal.

[Winterhawk99]

Eibhlin writes in her journal just before Hibernation:

I came back to the real world for 2 days and will have to go back into the mist for 10. During those two days not much happened but patrols. Kin have been vanishing one to two at a time each time I come out of hibernation. No one comes to the circle much. On the first day I was mostly alone. I went on patrol several times alone to keep the bug population around the enclave low enough that they caused no trouble. Both the small spider caves and the leech caves near the river.

A few showed up. Rhyseen, Nuar’verthal, and a few others on the first day. I saw Kayleen lying in the flowers just outside the circle resting. But there were very few others that came that first day. The enclave has gotten somewhat lonely. I tended to the animals much of the time. Mostly at night. I also miss Elithaela. She is a dear friend that I can talk to about things I cannot talk to others being that we are both Spirit Walkers. I do hope she is alright. I have missed her now, twice coming out of hibernation. She is prone to seizures which makes me worry a bit more too.

One the second day there were more people. About a dozen over the whole of the day. Euril and his lady, Isileme, Rhys and Nuar’verthal of course, Alvaro the half blood, Neha she is a dear. And a few others.

I found that Nuar’verthal is making some progress maturing into a man. I think Isileme shocked him, and she actually shocked me on my second day free from the mist. We all found out the details of her story and why she came here. It is an old story one of a young woman/girl not ready finding out she has power and using it in a bad way. The trees would not let me channel magic at all until I was of age, 120.

Isileme had told me before she lived in a room for decades and was somewhat naïve to the world. I had taken it that she was a slave or a prisoner of some evil person for a time or perhaps a shut in by overprotective parents. It turns out she was none of those things. She was in prison for murder.

She started when she came to the circle about how she had astonished and confounded Nuar’verthal with some papers she showed him. Another and I asked to see these papers. She did. It was a pardon from a queen from some land. I did not read it thoroughly. I just saw that she was pardoned for murder, and it was enough for me. Isileme then explained.

She was young when it happened. Not yet 120. I figured it was in her 90s and hundreds. She said she was being teased by some other girls when it happened. The magic collected around and through her and in her anger, she unleashed it at the ones harassing her. Two died and many were injured. I immediately deduced it was sorcery.

I asked her how long it was since she knew she could use magic in this way. She told us only a few weeks. I nodded expecting such an answer. When an elven girl is in her 90s and 100s that’s when they begin to change. Their emotions are hardly in control as they are changing from girl to woman. They start to see boys as not just playmates but as something much more. It is a confusing time and most like the trees would not let me use magic during this time for me. Though with my tribe being so much smaller such may not have happened. Who really knows.

She spent the next 30 years in prison. So, she came of age in prison. It is no wonder her development in both knowing the world and of people is so stunted. I was about to start to council her on her feelings of these things. I could tell from her facial expressions and body language that she was sorely in distress about what she did. She did not think much of herself. Ivaehbin showed up and looked at the paper work before I could really say anything. He looked at the paperwork and brought us all to the Starlight court.

He took over as council and priest. I think in this instance it turned out much better than if I had tried to council her myself. She needed a priest before she needed the comfort and understanding of a healer. I sat down and watched their conversation and meditation in the court.

Ivaehbin and Isileme had a conversation for a very long time as I and others looked on. Euril and his lady came to the court. Isileme showed her pardon to them. The three discussed some things about her being in the enclave. Most I did not catch. In the end we left Isileme to her meditation in front of Corellon’s idol. Before I came here for hibernation she was still there.

The wound of what she did will always be with her. That will never change. What will change with steady encouragement will be her view of herself. At the moment she loathes herself as being a murderess that has taken lives. Someone not to be trusted or cared for but that is far from the truth. Encouragement will teach her that. Perhaps one day she will use sorcery again for the benefit of her people but that is for her to decide in the end.

Because Shamans channel raw magic and shape it like sorcery, I might be able to help her in that endeavor. It will be up to her in the end. I have no doubt that she has properly paid for this youthful mistake as terrible as it was. Taking a life in this way changes a person radically and recovery from such a mistake often takes a lifetime be they a good and honest person.

I have offered my council to her any time she would like. She knows she can come to me and knows it is up to her to take the next step. I will sleep now for most likely 10 or more days. I have much learning to do with the spirits though I yearn to be in the real world more. I have a duty and a pact I must uphold.

[Winterhawk99]

Eibhlin climbs one of the trees in the flower field to her nest and lights several candles. She usually throws a light spell above her but with the change in magic and the wisps themselves she takes no chances. She places them in holders and opens her journal.

I was in the real world for 5 days. Kin and others have started to come back to the enclave. The first I met was Ylvahim. He was sitting by the circle tree emancipated beyond belief. He weakly held up his hand and said, “Wise Eibhlin.”

I immediately got to work and fixed him a huge breakfast like what I eat when I come out of hibernation. I told him he must eat it all. After he ate about half his meal, I asked him what happened. He told me that he was in battle and became sorely wounded. He found himself in the dirt and somehow, he went into hibernation himself and found his mind and soul in the spirit realm He said that he felt that his soul somehow fragmented though would not tell me if it was in him going into a state of hibernation or afterward in the ethereal plane.

I asked him if he every spirit walked in this way before. He shook his head and said it was his first time. I sucked in my breath for it takes years of practice to do it right. No wonder his soul was shattered and fragmented strewn about in the mists.

I checked him over and found someone had worked on his wounds. I checked all the bandages, and they were fine. But I did worry about what he had seen and done in the spirit realm. Those inexperienced usually die very quickly. Ylvahim was gone at least 4 ten days. It is no wonder he was so thin and pale, but I believe it may not have been his own doing. Either that or it was an accident.

He is very lucky his body did not die while he was there. 4 ten days is a stretch even for one like me that is used to long hibernations. An elven body no matter how slowed down can only take so much. He must have great fortitude for withstanding so long a time.

He asked me to look for the fragmented pieces of his spirit. I promised him that I would. I then told him to take each night’s reverie in the spot Elithaela cooked her stews. He agreed. So, when I go to the spirit realm, I must find the pieces of his fragmented soul and bring them to his body while asleep.

[Winterhawk99]

Eibhlin continues to write:

Later that day Alarin came to me saying he was having concerning visions in his reverie. I asked him to reveal it. He told me when he dreams of it, he is in a strange library. In this library if you take the stairs up you end up lower than when you started and if you take the stairs to the right you end up on the left side. The whole of the library is arranged this way. He continued. He was looking for a book but did not know the title or why he was looking for it. He would search and search for the book until he became frustrated. Just as he was about to give up the dream stopped.

I and several around the area took a stab at interpreting the dream. He seemed to agree with my assessment the most which was this: The library is your own mind which is confused about a question for it is warped to lead you in wrong directions. You are searching for information and that you have all the necessary information in your head but have not put it together. You do not know the title because you do not consciously know the question you want to ask yet. Once you know the question you can go and think about the next step, which is remembering how to answer it from your past experience and learning.

I also said that the dream may be telling you that you have been too long at study and could need a vacation from all of it. Those were my two best guesses. He seemed to agree with the first but was unsure of the second. I then told him that they were only my best guesses. And that He should consult a Dreamwalker of Sehanine to help him. The Dreamwalker will be able to help him much better than myself.

He thanked all of us and seemed to be much more at peace with himself afterward. I do hope he consults a dreamwalker it seems to be the perfect person to talk to about such things.

I did have one suggestion for him. I told him that if the dream reoccurs, be mindful of the details on both book and around the library. Note any changes even if they seem not to matter or subtle. These might be clued that your subconscious mind is trying to tell you.

He also seemed to like that idea. Hopefully I will hear from him soon because this dream interests me.

[Winterhawk99]

Eibhlin continues to write.

There was a great wall of storms for a night. I hid in my nest and had visions. Some were odd, some horrifying. One of those visions were of the Circle devoid of all most all tree and plant life. After some of the storms past I gathered a group to go on patrol.

The group included. Neha, Kashari, Firialavel, Nuar’verthal, Rhys, Isilme and myself. We went to the large spider caverns near the abandoned logger camp. Some call it the training grounds. The cavern system is vast and full of both giant and huge spiders. We put our shields up and started in. We did well for a while though wisps were appearing in numbers sometimes when we had not cast any spell. We all wondered about this.

We slowly figured out that the very shields such as Stoneskin and spirit armor were attracting them in numbers of two or even threes. Even more so they did not explode but instead dissipated effecting us with various magic effects. They still sometimes stripped our shields and enchantments, but they also did things like turned us invisible, healed us, harmed us with negative energy. It became tough going but we had almost cleared the cavern system of spiders when a wisp came and teleported half the group away. The only ones out of the spell affects were Rhys and I. We came back to the circle to find out that somehow magic had grown stronger in the realm, but the wisps had changed too.

There was a watcher there and I told him of my observations in the caves. There were areas within that seemed to be nests or hot spots. Where 2 or 3 wisps would spawn and if you lingered in that area 2 or 3 more wisps would spawn. Once you got out of that area you would be somewhat safe until you hit another seemingly hot spot. When you hit one of these spots, the whole of the process would start over. We found out that our experience was the same as others who were adventuring all throughout the forest.

While coming back Rhys and I found out that the enclave armorer mysteriously was by the river. We left him there for the moment. In the circle while the watcher was asking about my observations about the wisps, he asked me to show him. He was talking about the armorer, and I thought he was speaking of the wisps, so I started to cast to attract them. Some girl in the circle went nuts crying and carrying on. The watcher corrected and specified he meant the armor. I dropped my magic shields and led him to the river and to the armor.

My observations about how the wisps act so far have been correct. I started to experiment on which spells would attract the wisps myself. A few days later Keila and I went on morning patrol. I ask her if I could call forth and summon my friend the boar. She agreed. We traveled all the way to what she called the Lone Sentinel. It is a ruin near the scar. Immediately after the area called the brambles. Not one wisp showed up. So, I know summoning spells are somewhat safe. I also know that any other shield type spell is not safe.

While on the nature walk while I was scouting a wisp showed up. I was the only one using magic. At the time I was using a spell called sanctuary and the wisp appeared. I kept it away from the group and tried to destroy it but it did hit me with spell effect and stripped me of the spell.

The most interesting thing I learned in the cavern system is Kashari isn’t nearly as bad with a sword as he tends to spout off about. He’s really very proficient and uses not one but two blades.

The next thing to happen was the Adoquor the elven tribes meeting. There the priestess Caerylia called for volunteers among the people who could cast to help her divine the nature of an enemy below the goblin ruins. I came forward though I was somewhat afraid that the same thing may happen that happened in the brambles.

This ritual was different. It was led by Caerylia as a defined leader and many of the things we discussed at my spirit walkers meeting were employed this time. The things we did wrong in the brambles were not repeated. Thank the gods I had the spirit walkers meeting and some listened to me.

I stood between Dilliun and Varitan. Instead of sending my spirit to the ethereal plane like the last time to call my spirit I felt the roots of the great trees around me and drew up the shamanist energy from the earth and root of the trees to lend the ritual more power. I knew my function at this ritual much better, so I concentrated on my guidance and the energy that I was lent directly into the circle.

It worked. Soon our minds were out of our bodies and moving upward. As a group we traveled above the ruins that host the goblins and down into the earth. Deep, deep down. I still have trouble writing about the experience itself so I will leave a blank page here for when I come back to the real world.




As the ritual begins, the skies darken, setting the stage of a focused sight for those in participation. The sound of the rain fades into the backdrop, as though the current world is being removed from consciousness. Even for those nearby non-participants.

The present seems a very distant thing now, the collective consciousness of those present moved slowly away. It seems that whatever has occurred recently has inspired magic to be plenty more volatile and garner more influence than just the casters.

How small and minute now that you see yourselves from another eye, one shared by all in the ritual. The world darkens further in your mind’s eye as it moves in search, rapidly through imagery and noises unintelligible. Quickened further in pace, like a wolf whipping past blades of grass, the imagery blurs as it searches for its intended target. Jarring, for any who are not used to scrying and seeing beyond with their own eyes. As the imageries travel, as your displaced selves travel, a growing tension burns at each of your breasts; a sensation of burden, of doubt, and most especially of dread. Whatever you look for, it hides in the shroud of shadow. You taste bile in your mouths but know that it is not truly anything there. It is bitter and it has the texture of ash. It dries the lips and fouls the stomach. The imagery fades into a blotchy grey, barely stained with familiar colors of the living.

Then the image stops dead, the blurs gone and a whipping movement settles. You are still in this odd, senseless grey world, but a lone figure clad in dark robes sits at the center of attention. It stand in a pool of its own making.

It holds another book; hands betray the pale complexion of the figure with hood lowered enough to hide its hideous face. The sting of copper and iron assail your nose suddenly, then the unmistakable stench of death. Dozens, Hundreds, Thousands.

You blink once; a mountain of corpses and rivers of blood take over the grey backdrop in a jarring change. You feel sick. Sick that you see how many souls this cruel figure has taken.

A castle of bone and a throne of sinew, this figure stands proudly upon their work. The hands tighten around the leather-bound book. A row of teeth lines beneath the shadow of the hood. It speaks, but you do not hear.

The figure reaches forward, towards you. Ugly, sallow skin that betrays too much of a humanoid anatomy is revealed further with this reaching hand. How thin and on the brink of death this creature is, and yet it reaches directly towards you.

Decrepit nails and calloused fingertips caress your cheek, marveling your face with such wonder. You can practically feel its sick desire to rip and tear you apart, to piece you all back together again into the one beautiful masterpiece it could create.

There is naught more adoration you could feel in your life, with the way it touches you, admires you.

“Not yet.” Words spoken with a tongue of worms and yellow teeth; cracked lips smile sweetly. “Not yet.” Like a tut from a parent to a child, chiding before dinner. Were this creature not so disgusting, you could almost, almost feel enamored. In a twisted way.

The words fade as quickly as they had come, you are suddenly grabbed into this vision and feel it upon your bodies in a very real manner. A strangling chokehold that takes your breath away.

You can feel your life ebb; your lungs cannot breathe. It refuses to breathe. Suffocation seems like a very real possibility through the vision alone.

Until the vision is let go suddenly, jolting everyone present back into their bodies, their minds. The world becomes vivid once more; the sound of rain resumes. The spell fades, though it leaves a tangible taste of static in the air.


Written by an anonymous Gm.






Once the ritual ended, I was so distraught I had to go over the hill and retch all the contents of my stomach out. I did not remember most of the rest of the Adoquor because what I saw was so burned into my mind by all of my senses. You could see the place we went to and could taste the ash in your mouth. I left rather quickly to recover. There did seem to be a backlash against Caerylia, she feinted shortly after the ritual was completed.

We did find out, whoever this enemy is it or he is very powerful. He looks human and wears dark robes. He holds a tome that is covered in human skin. The figure is pale and may be of the undead himself. He has a birthmark on the left side of his head. There is a banner in the background of which is of a skull and sickle on a red field. The creature or man can detect scrying against him and can counter them. He can counter cast and use any scrying attempt against him against the creator’s will. It can make great use of necromancy and has sacrificed countless lives in their bit for power over the dead and undead. And it lives deep below the ruins the goblins command.

The last thing I did while in the real world was help Silvaine with her monthly nurturing the forest walks. As usual I flanked and took care of small things like wolves and gibbering while the group walked the river. The basis for the walk this time was to keep the river clear of logs and other things that can stop it flow flooding the lands around. We found a new path that had opened up and went past a cave and old what looked like a mining camp that had a palisade around it.

I tried using sign to communicate with her. but she didn’t seem to understand my signing all the time. I quickly realized how much signing can change from culture to culture. I will have to get with her sometime to work out the differences between her signing and mine. We may have to work on a common signing between the tribes and immigrants to the enclave as there are many elves from many lands and that doesn’t even include the dwarves, half-bloods and humans in the conclave.

We met a watcher coming back to the enclave and he decided to travel with us. The trip was long but there were not many terrors out in the forest this night. Many learned a lot about the forest and how to help keep the rivers safe the year round. I learned many new things myself. It was a good trip.

[Winterhawk99]

The spirit who is Eibhlin floats up to the Circle Tree and hovers before the trunk. “I have a request.”

“What is the request, Sapling?”

“An untrained kin has somehow gone into hibernation and come back. This kin was in the mist for at least 4 ten days. There was a battle. He was wounded and fell to the ground. He felt the dirt of the forest floor hug and comfort him and then he was in the mist. This is how he described it. In coming here to the mist his spirit fragmented. He has asked me to gather the fragments and return them to him.”

“Do you know this soul, Sapling?”

The grey dryad like spirit looks up to the great tree, “The druid Ylvahim that helps to take care of this very grove. I have told him to take his reverie under your care until I can restore him. He rests where the Shamaness Elithaela once made her stews.”

Minutes pass while Eibhlin waits. The Circle tree says, “I will consult the Grand old One, Sapling. You are not to leave the enclave until such time to look for this fragmented spirit.”

“He is kin!?”

“Patience! I did not say no! I said I will consult and see if we can find a way to keep our sapling protected while on such a path. Now go to your studies.”

Eibhlin feeling dejected mostly because every time she was requested something, and the trees had to consult she was rejected before goes back to her studies with the other tree spirits. Time in the mist is confusing. She studied, debated, was fed information upon the flora and fauna particular to the Wealdath, and was given visions of the various forest paths and other dwellers she has not met yet. She rested several times before being called back by the Grand Old One: The mother tree.

When she is called, she goes to her and floats up to were she can view most of the trunk. “You called Grand Old One?”

The Tree’s spirit answers, “We have spoken and felt this soul through the roots of the forest. You were correct. His spirit is fragmented and needs mending. We know this soul Eibhlin of the Grey Forest. Sapling to the trees. He has ever tended the enclave and the forest surroundings. Your request is accepted.

This shattered soul is close to the darkness that spreads through the forest and soil. You are too young and inexperienced to do this alone, Sapling. We have requested a guide and the call was answered. Go to the east entrance just outside the Starlight court. There you will meet your guide and protector. Do not tarry. Retrieve the fragmented parts of the soul and return. The Father tree will do the rest.”

Eibhlin bows to the mother tree, “Thank you, Grand old One.”

The dryad-like spirit makes her way slowly to the south entrance as she can only see 60 ft in the mist and it can be hard to navigate. She exits the enclave and goes straight up the hill. When she sees the rocks that she knows above the court, she turns right and finds the path then turns left to the entrance of the court. That she can see fairly plainly. The statue of Corellon somehow glows of its own green light. She wanders up to the altar and as she passes within a few feet her own body lights up with a golden glow. She looks at her hands and the soft golden light amazed. She says a small prayer and curtsies to the statue then returns to the entrance.

She waits a long time. So long that she ends up meditating though she is somewhat afraid of what may be around. She finally decides that there should be nothing to harm her around the starlight. Just when she is about to slip into reverie, she hears a voice come forth from the fog. It is a soft almost wispy tenor of a male voice Though it does boom and echo quiet loudly around the area.

“Who is this I am called to guard. A Weirwood Dryad of a spirit? No…. You smell of elven. Who are you that the trees entreat?”

Eibhlin turns to the voice but sees nothing but the fog being disrupted by something very large. “I am called Sapling. One day to be called Speaker.”

She feels a wind pass her and the voice changes its position this time up and to the south, “I had thought the line of Weiralia extinguished gone some millennia ago. Where are you from Sapling?”

She hesitantly says, “The Grey Forest.”

“I am unfamiliar, please explain.

“It is south and east of the forest of Cormanthor. Nestled between the Earthfast Mountains to the north and the Sea of Fallen stars.”

The voice changes again and comes from the north, “Ah, the Tsurlar forest. I know this name. Secluded. Not many wander its depths. Now I understand.”

Eibhlin listens and picks up a name. “You said Weiralia who it that?”

Something moves in the mist and the voice comes from the east again. “The trees have not told you. Ah yes but a sapling. A Young spirit walker learning her duties and her power. Did you know how rare a spirit walk is even among those who practice shamanism?”

“That was not my question.” Eibhlin retorts.

The voice chuckles, “You are learning and quickly young elf. Just for your wisdom I will tell you. Long ago many millennia a half dryad by the name of Weiralia warned a young kingdom not to teach the humans magic. She foresaw a great future disaster and did everything in her power to stop her fellows from doing such. Knowing that she would fail she made a pact with the tree spirits of the world. A pact that included all future generations of her line. To protect the forest from such a disaster in every way she can. Thus, she became the first voice of the trees.

Her vision eventually became true. The humans arrogant and thinking they could become gods themselves unleashed magic unraveling the weave itself. Their empire died as their great flying cities fell. Weiralia’s line though continued and became a line that spoke to the tree spirits.

The voice disappeared some 1,000 years ago. Those who know of the voice thought the line had died off yet here you stand. You are a direct descendent of Weiralia and thus carry a small measure of her blood and her mother dryad’s blood too.”

Eibhlin is stunned and does not know what to say. The voice continues. “We have lingered long enough. Come, follow the clicks of my voice and the sound of my walk.”

Eibhlin follows the sound of clicking and foot pads east then north and east again. The fog surrounding her begins to darken. The ground becomes cold, and her feet start to tingle. It is an all too familiar sensation. They are nearing the Scar.

They come to a spot that is different. Fireflies dance around lighting up the mists with a soft orange/grey glow. The voice tells her. “The lights are the shattered fragments of your kins soul collect them all. I smell the restless dead……. One of my favorite preys, though they taste awful. Shield yourself sapling. I will return.”

Eibhlin hesitates but decides with undead around she needs her shields. She casts spirit armor. Her ghostly bark mail surrounds her. She then casts sanctuary. Pulling a large bag from her belt she collects the fireflies. She has trouble with some having to jump several times to catch the high ones. Around her there is movement. The smell of death is in the air. She stays put as the mists swirl from one direction to the next.

After a time, a much weaker voice sounds off, “They…… are…. gone.”

Eibhlin grows concerned about her mysterious protector. “Are you hurt? I can heal you.”

“They are but minor flesh wounds. Do not attempt to see me, elf. I wish it not. Know that I am doing a favor for the trees. Keep back and follow my voice home.”

She follows the clicking and footpads. This time at a jog nearly a run. Once back at the Starlight court it stops. “Go now see the father tree. It was a pleasure young sapling……. Soon to be Speaker. We will meet again though I know not when.”

She looks at the glowing statue, then to the last place she heard the voice. “I am Eibhlin of the Grey Forest. I give you my name in thanks.”

“Goodbye Eibhlin of the Grey Forest and thank you for now I know the line of the voice has not ended.”

She listens to the footpads fade then slowly follows her way back to the circle tree. “I have collected the spirit of Ylvahim.”

The tree tells her, “Release it by the form in your world, Sapling.”

She goes to the place where Ylvahim is in reverie. Opening the bag, she releases the glow worms above his head. They slowly form a swarm above him. She feels the spirit of the great circle tree come into action and one by one each firefly descends into the soul that is remembering its own past. As the last bug disappears into him, Ylvahim smiles and seems to come at some peace. She smiles back at him then looks up to see what the father tree will ask of her in return.