"Where do we often find allies? Among our enemies, where else?"
- Joe Abercrombie, Half the World
Somewhere far away, yet not so far.
From its hiding place beyond the jagged rim of a thousand oaks, a pale moon rose behind the dying streaks of a coppery sunset. As night descended upon the abandoned Seldarine temple, the intertwined song of cicadas and nocturnal birds reverberated in the dense foliage, now and then complemented by the occasional croak of a surly frog. The southern wind, the Wave's Shriek, that blew in from the sea by day had turned; at dusk, as always, it was supplanted by the more musky Dryad's Sigh that blew from land to sea, thick with the scents of oaken canopies and, to the sensitive nose, the rotting swamps of Poisonwood. All was quiet until it was not - until a sudden storm rolled in over the temple ruin, battering its beaten stone with hissing rain. The wind made eerie rising-and-falling wails as it passed over the gaps and crevices of the old temple, giving the impression that a band of banshees were lamenting the world's end overhead. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps the world was coming to an end.
Inside the temple, three elves sat huddled around a fire.
"-unless you do that, the invasion of City of Elisara will look like a stroll in a sunny park in comparison."
"-if left unguarded, their power will not only be lost, it will be corrupted."
"Again, I say, we must convince the Called!"
"I know a secret. I can show you..."
"-cannot very well open up my skull and show you the truth of my words!"
"She is a Darkfey, that is all proof you need."
"I do not require proof. They do."
"-and when that is done, we will show them. They will see. They will understand."
Registered Member #23821
Joined: 6:18:34 am GMT 03/19/14
Posts: 135
Rebirth
Living is more painful than I remember. Every step carried a burden of weight, every deep breath catching somewhere in the center of my being. Seems that stingy god didn't fix every problem I had. Nonetheless, I'd been dead a long time, and there was no time for rest, no rest for the wicked. The meeting with the Esteemed One Dimm went honestly as well as I could expect, frankly better. I didn't think I could get away with being so blunt with her. Maybe she's more desperate than I thought.
Things were said. Disagreements on the proper course of action, and ultimately, priorities were arranged before further discussion would even matter. In my absence, things had fallen apart. The Red Wizards are brilliant, but more often than not have little savvy for the finer points of battlefield tactics, and it seems my replacements didn't understand how to handle a bunch of savages. I'll have to raise training standards. If we even make it through this alive. The point is, we are in a weak state as it is, and no condition to make any move. With this is in mind, I begin to pen the letter.
Renneleth, I will need your assistance more immediately than I realized. We must arrange a meeting with the Sandburrow commander, you as the neutral party. They will without a doubt plan to blockade the men and resources I will need, and if this happens, not only will I be of no assistance to you, but both of our navies will be crippled in the ensuing battle. Let us avoid that, and meet as soon as possible. Time is of the essence. Commander Kauna
Registered Member #1120
Joined: 4:36:33 am GMT 07/27/07
Posts: 491
The rain fell in torrents on the City of Elisara, washing away puddles of spilled life, extinguishing fires, and masking the crackling energies sparking from human eyes hidden under a green hood. It concealed their owner’s anguish, rage, fear, exhaustion, pity, hope...Another home under siege, another school in danger, another wife at his side working her particular sort of magic, all under threat by battalions of deluded Elves. It was Waterdeep all over again, and these were just as dangerous as the Drow he faced in his youth.
The wizard leaned heavily on his glowing, steaming staff. He, Nataleena and the Kin Brazik had been fighting for hours, supporting the defense, leading counter attacks and plugging gaps as they appeared. They had aided in the destruction of scores of the enemy, a grove’s worth of treants and even several incredibly dangerous elite warriors, but onward still they came. This sort of warfare required greater restraint in spell choice and targeting, but he had adapted quickly. Watching Nataleena work almost made this whole situation look like some sort of game, as efficiently as she dealt with any foe who came within her reach. Brazik was an impressively skilled, fast, tough and powerful ally, which Teron had used his expertise to chisel into a demigod of wrath and destruction upon the field. Still the enemy came on, though. There was more to do here than a hundred copies of themselves could accomplish. Despite his usual happy-go-lucky demeanor, the metallic Kin posited that something drastic would have to happen for this to come to any positive end. He was correct, of course, but what was to be done? How much of an atrocity would have to be inflicted upon their poisoned foe to make them pay for the atrocity that they themselves had brought about?
And thus the mage’s mind wandered as his hands trembled from the ongoing struggle, sparks emerging at uncontrolled and unintentional angles and intervals, his body’s warning that if he were to continue at this pace, his waning control would soon make him as much a threat to his allies as to his enemies. It was time to retire to the rear, aid Hanne in her work of evacuating the School’s collection, rest, and then begin to plan his own atrocity. He had work to do in the north, but he was NOT about to lose his home again, not without inflicting tremendous pain upon the Poisonwood for daring to bring this choice before him.
Registered Member #24916
Joined: 2:58:00 pm GMT 01/23/19
Posts: 610
You know those days you wish you had stayed in bed? Lily had one of those.
She went to Greenvale to see a friend in the school of magic, but what greeted her inside the city was the unmistakable stench of Poisonwood. Few others seemed to notice at the time, and it was more than just blood, so naturally, she got worried and hurried on to the school where she met Elith, Jacen and Renneleth. They were talking about heading to the fugue plane to recover a soul of a Thayan soldier. A commander, or something. It is not usually something the recent Kelemvorite would agree to, but in this case, she figured this one rule break could lead to saving hundreds of lives.
They met their way to the fugue plane and met with an administrator, and right off the bat, Renneleth managed to be his usual insulting self. It was up to Lily this time to do the talking, and present their case, and by some miracle, they were allowed inside the castle of Kelemvor himself!
Things got... well, embarrassing in there as Renneleth seemed to touch every single thing he came across, and Lily got to do something she never thought she would ever do. Babysit someone literally twenty times her age. A certain someone nearly got himself trapped in the ethereal plane as well, had not Lily yanked him back by his cloak.
The meeting with the judge was just as embarrassing as the two elves seemed to hold no respect for the place they were in. It didn't exactly help that two of those who entered were without souls. Not exactly the ideal setting for one who wishes to be a Doomguide, but it worked out... somewhat well. Except they all had to make a sacrifice to bring back this Thayan commander, seeing as it was not her desire to return, but the elves. Elith had part of his soul claimed, to be returned to the Seldarine when Kelemvor deems it fitting. Renneleth's soul apparently belongs to them as well, but was able to sacrifice part of his memories and experience. Jacen got off easy and just had to help develop an empowered version of the spell that destroys undead.
Lily, well.. she made a great sacrifice. She didn't know what to give up, as it would require much to bring back a soul who clearly had no desire to go back. It wasn't an easy one either, as she needs the few things she has in order to fight for the greater good, and in the end, she had to give up her inability to die on the prime. This was accepted, but she was also to wear a grey cloak with the lord's symbol, and her armor is to forever be grey.
All sacrifices were agreed upon, and the Thayan commander was returned to life. They all somehow managed to make it out safe without touching anything, and Lily took the Thayan to a hidden hideout that will forever remain a secret.
One could say all went well, but instead of going home for an ale in front of the fireplace, she dropped on her bed to cry. She knew what she sacrificed for Greenvale, a place she wasn't really that interested in, and people that will never know, and for a cause that has a high chance of failing. She had little faith in it in the first place, and now she is like everyone else for it. Just like any other soldier she meets on the battlefield, she is not bound by the rocks, so when she dies, that will be it. Her soul will go straight to the fugue. One can only hope the elves who were there knew just how much of a sacrifice she had made for their city, for she may just see her final death for it!
That was near a week ago... In the current day Poisonwood:
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Elarion couldn't be more proud as he and his companions, Anakhor, Cathalya and Eswyn brought in the mind controlled enemy. There was of course no guarantee it would work, but they could at least try to introduce their enemy to the purest poison, like the Lady had shown Elarion only a day before. With luck, all go as planned, and they will be able to unleash a new convert on the traitors.
"This time, to convince one ally, ya have to burn another ally."
- Captain Yarlan
Somewhere far away, yet not so far.
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The Huntmaster prodded the campfire with one of his arrows - the shaft a decayed, gnarled thing, but its fixed-blade broadhead tip so large and wickedly sharp it could bleed out a mammoth. The fire, once prodded, hissed and crackled in response like a cornered serpent, its hot temper bidding the thrashing flames higher and higher, high enough that they soon flapped on level with the Huntmaster's crouching height, throwing dark shadows across his grim countenance. It had been a long day, a terrible fucking day, and the calm, windless morning that had marked his and Kauna's departure to Sandburrow felt like a lifetime ago. From nowhere a wind rose, billowing into the flames and spraying embers into his face as if to punctuate everything that had gone awry that day. The Huntmaster rose, shouting into the fire as if the fire was a living, scheming thing, and that it had been by its cunning hand that the Huntmaster's ploy had fallen to pieces. Stretching his legs, he paced among quiet pillars from a bygone time, imagining that they, like the fire with its mocking hisses, were somehow taunting him - quizzing his resolve and competence with disapproving looks. He shouted at them too, then he shouted into the night, shouted at the whole world. His fury was matched by a single owl hoot, and that was it. No-one gave a shit. He sat back by the fire, spent and exhausted, reminiscing on the day that had passed. The heat of the fire rippled the cold night air. Even so, the Huntmaster shivered.
"Ya're going to have to choose, lad," the black-hatted captain had warned. "Ya can't have both worlds. It's an insult. Ya can't both have Thay and us fighting side by side with ya fair folk. And ya better choose soon."
"Those who are coerced by force become our enemies, those who succumb to reason become our allies. Those who fall into neither category are called Tel'Mordere."
- Conventional wisdom
Somewhere far away, yet not so far.
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The look of the forest began to alter before the Huntmaster's eyes as Poisonwood gave way to Heartwood. The brush was thicker the higher up he went, denser and more verdant than down below in the swamplands. The trees were enormous, taller than a castle wall, tall enough to touch the stars. The cliffs and mountains were thick with huge pine and redwood trees. The wind became more fierce. It was not like climbing any other steep, not even Drakamyre. Each step burned as he walked and pushed himself higher into the crown of trees. The day began to wane, but he ate and drank as he walked, trying to crest the highlands before the sunlight gave way. It was colder the higher up he went, winds so chilling they rattled the bones, yet he kept on walking. The Heartwood trees were enormous, so thick around the base it would take an axeman a year to cut through it. There were no branches lower down, but high near the top, the branches grew so thick they eclipsed the sun. Other peculiar trees could be seen farther off, some even bigger. The Huntmaster rubbed the bark with his hand, wondering how ancient they were and if they belonged to this world at all. Ferns grew thick in the area, but nearly all the other growth was stunted compared to the formidable trees. He pressed on.
Higher into the highlands he went, and the trees got bigger and bigger. One was so wide at the base, it would have taken thirty men to encircle it. He also discovered the skeletons of trees that had been struck by lightning and eventually collapsed. He could only imagine the crashing noise they would have made when they fell, or how the earth must have shaken with the impact. After falling, the roots were splayed and wide open, revealing black tunnels made of soot and charcoal. The roots of the giants were wide enough to fit him and his two companion wolves, and then add more. At last, he reached the peak of the hill - in truth a small mountain - and the ground began descending the other way. There was one giant tree where the exposed roots were so deep, it was like a cave. Using a torch for light, he explored the depth and discovered that it was not the den of any animal. The burned inside of the tree was probably not a place animals cared to dwell, but it was tall enough to stand in until the very end. He made camp there. The wind was fierce, howling like a banshee. But strangely enough, there were no other sounds. No birds singing, no wolves howling, no insects chirping. Except for the wind, there was an utter and eerie silence. Heartwood... Silentwood would have been more appropriate.
He ate in silence at the break of dawn, then shook out his cloak-for-blanket and draped it around his shoulder. He left the barren cave made of tree roots and started down the hillside. It was much faster going than the previous day. Mist shrouded the hilltop, thick enough to hide the immediate surroundings from him. He knew there were beasts in that fog, beasts so ancient and large that the Tel'Mordere nearly worshipped them. And yet, the sound of the shrieking wind notwithstanding, he could hear nothing. He walked and walked until he saw the hillside end abruptly off a jagged cliff, not a dozen paces more from where he had stopped. The clearing mist revealed a circle of stones nestled in the crags below. He approached from the rear, and from the hillside, he could see several small buildings connected with hanging bridges that swayed precariously in the wind. The grounds were lush and thick, not trimmed by sickles. Wildflowers grew here and there, sprouting from mountainside crevices. Ivy crawled everywhere. He could not see a single soul roaming the grounds or walking on the swaying bridges. Everything looked overgrown and abandoned, but he knew this was not the case. He could not see them, but they were watching him. Hundreds of eyes.
He approached the circle of stones and spoke out loud.
"The Huntmaster of the Talon and Decay Tribe would address you!"
Registered Member #25436
Joined: 1:59:54 pm GMT 03/22/20
Posts: 58
((going to try and include dates that these events happen- FYI some are estimated I apologize ahead of time for the long post- catching up on a lot of rp that happened and hoping to set up a PC-RUN EVENT related to some of this) ) ((Post 4/5/2020-ish)) Since the calling where the matter of the Poisonwood was brought to the circle, Avaggdu had begun a project in the Lumenshire in order to experiment with the possibility of growing a strain of Hellshire truffles that would latch onto the roots of any Poisonwood trees that grew there and somehow prevent them from growing.
The idea was to use the poison essence that Cuchuwyn provided at the circle gathering to impregnate a sample of soil with poisonwood essence, then plant some of the truffles in the poisonous soil. With help of nature magic and positive influence, perhaps the truffles would “learn” (evolve) to feed off the poison, just as other fungi feed off of decay.
Avaggdu had confided this plan with Birk Moll and the Kralshaman of the Hellshire Orcs, and they both agreed that it was at least worth a try.
One of the Fey Guardians of the Lumenshire approached Avaggdu one day while he was running around the shire searching for an appropriate location to begin the experiments. The Fey Guardian, who took the form of a massive wolf, challenged Avaggdu to a race. Relieved to have some light-hearted fun amidst all the ominous concerns of the impending war, Avaggdu agreed to race the Fey. The first race was a draw, so the two decided to race once more- this time Avaggdu also took the form of a dire wolf, and subsequently won the race.
Avaggdu told the Fey of his plan, and asked the Fey where he might be permitted to conduct his experiments. The Fey escorted Avaggdu to a garden planted by the druid Gringer, and said that it would be a suitable place to start. The Fey reminded Avaggdu that the poison samples must be kept separate from the rest of the Lumenshire, lest he risk unintentionally contaminating the land.
Unknown to Avaggdu and the Lumenshire Guardian, another Fey was hidden and spying on their entire conversation -Arakhor, Dryad of the Poisonwood. After the Fey Guardian resumed their patrols, the Dryad began whispering to Avaggdu, disappointed that he would actively try to suppress the expansion of the Poisonwood. “We though you were different,” she said, and implored Avaggdu to question what he was doing. This conversation left Avaggdu full of doubt and despair, unsure if what he was doing was truly the right thing to do by nature. Birk Moll and the Kralshaman witnessed Avaggdu seemingly talking to himself to the unseen fey.
When Avaggdu was in the Ruined Courtyard, on his way to visit Margee, whom he enjoys having the occasional cup of herbal tea with, Arakhor appeared to talk. The two had a long conversation about the impending war, and eventually they agreed that even if they were on “different sides,” that in their own ways they were only doing what they felt was right. Arakhor did not seem overly concerned with Avaggdu’s “Project” – seeing it as little more than a delay of the inevitable, even if he were to successfully stop the growth of new poisonwood in the Lumenshire. Avaggdu said that because the Poisonwood aligns itself with some of Thain’s most cruel factions, that he could not, as the gentle man that he is, stand alongside them.
Arakhor informed Avaggdu that Seryn had sacrificed herself for the Poisonwood. This information saddened Avaggdu greatly, as he had grown a friendly fondness for the Feyling. Avaggdu and Seryn had talked on more than a couple occasions about their pasts and their desire for peace. The first time they met, Seryn and Elarion took Avaggdu to see the ancient willow of the Poisonwood. It was here that Avaggdu learned that the forest had its own intrinsic value and unique beauty that has a right to exist, just like all the other aspects of nature on the island.
Avaggdu became depressed and conflicted after his conversation with Arakhor.
((post 4/12/2020))
As the called circle were traveling to the corners of Thain in persuit of the four legendary beasts, so that they may restore the portal link between Greenvale and Feywood, Avaggdu approached the Archdruid Malam to ask if he might spare some time later after the hunt.
After a successful hunt- Malam and the Kralshaman met with Avaggdu in front of Gringer’s Garden. Avaggdu expressed his inner conflict over his druidic principles to the Archdruid, and asked for guidance on the matter. Malam told Avaggdu that he believed his motives were pure, and advised him to follow his heart and do what he felt was right. Feeling somewhat comforted by this, Avaggdu gained a new sense of direction and would continue his efforts. Malam also said that he would try and speak with the Poisonwood to see if they might stop their expansion into the Lumenshire.
((somewhere in this time period Arakhor and Elarion visited the Hellshire cavern to look at the altars there, but I think Jizt made an earlier post about that))
((4/13-ish/2020?))
Avaggdu and Cirdan met with Dele and informed her that Greenvale had been attacked by the forces of Poisonwood. They decided to immediately set out for Greenvale in hopes of healing the wounded there. What they found upon arrival was an active battle field. The three held back a few waves of Poisonwood troops, slowly getting pushed back further towards the Queen’s tower.
Avaggdu sent a Hawk message to Birk Moll, who immediately proceeded over to Greenvale to aid in its protection. Soon after, the Kralshaman, Bruna((?)), and Karadash followed. The Hellshire Orcs fought bravely and victoriously alongside the soldiers of Greenvale. A mysterious elven woman eventually revealed herself amidst the battle, presenting as either an ally of Greenvale or simply one of Poisonwood’s enemies, or both. She darted into the Poisonwood, followed by the Hellshire Clan… and they made their way to the heart of the Poisonwood where they slew a Hand of Syann to send a message to the Poisonwood.
Appalled by the Poisonwood’s slaughter of innocent Greenvale commoners, Avaggdu became angry and more determined to try and end the war as quickly as possible, which in his mind rests on the success of the experiments he has been working on. Whether or not this was the actual case remains to be seen; however, it is what motivates Avaggdu’s actions.
Picture Caption Below: The enclosure for the experimental Hellshire Truffles. The garden has been dug out and lined with clay from the nearby riverbeds. The clay forming a sort of tub-like enclosure. A layer of rocks/pebbles on top of the clay, followed by the soil. A zone of the purest air blows around the enclosure, creating a sort of pressure barrier to keep and poison gasses inside.
Registered Member #24916
Joined: 2:58:00 pm GMT 01/23/19
Posts: 610
Ah, how lovely it is to watch bodies fall. Each dead traitor, a victory. Each dead forest kin, a sacrifice for their poison. It matters little how many of their own fall, for it will only soil the cobble and the earth beneath. Plants will rise, and their poison will soon fill the streets. Go ahead, traitors. Spill as much blood as you can.
Their own druids are most careless with their fire too, leading to more flames in the city than the evoker's own. The poisoned druids told their own strictly there is to be no burning of trees, but it seems Greenvale didn't get the message. What a shame.
There is also the strange quiet from their enemies. The individuals that come to the city's aid. Only a few have proven to be a challenge on the battlefield, and most are never seen again. It makes one ponder what they are up to. What plans they are cooking up behind their lines.. what alliances are made.
Ah well. It hardly matters. After The Lady had shown Elarion what happens when one is introduced to the poison, he has been actively trying to gather more to be introduced to their ways. What a lovely experiment they will be.
He had dropped by the assassin station too while running an errand, and they had told him they are seeing new recruits. It seems a lot are signing up for the trials, just so they can combat Greenvale with them.
Plot all you can, little traitors. Very soon, there will be no more city left for you to save..
Registered Member #1273
Joined: 2:56:54 pm GMT 03/23/08
Posts: 536
Thankfully, at the School of Magic...
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...while, elsewhere...
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Because a library is more than a collection of books. A library is a microcosm of civilization. While it survives - no matter where it must be kept - barbarism has never truly won.
[ The Island of Thain ]
Poisonwar
