A Call to Silvanus

 An accounting from Arian.

The Fort was bustling with activity when she returned; the new recruits had arrived and been put to work. The sounds of hammering and sawing filled the air punctuated by the surprisingly authoritative barked commands of Frank as he drilled some guards in the yard. Arian took care of her horse and nodded hello to anyone she passed.

She’d felt a growing sense of unease since Jaroo’s sending, especially after casting shillelagh on her staff and seeing it suddenly sprout sharp thorns. Something was amiss. But the others had rightful concerns; there was much that needed doing at the Fort and training besides. Could they hold off for a ten-day before leaving for Feycircle Tor? Or needs must they leave immediately?

She hoped – she prayed – that the Forest Father could give her the answers that she sought.

She spent the afternoon preparing the things she would need; grinding acorns into a paste, collecting mistletoe leaves, and rainwater from a barrel. She also gathered, for good measure, the leaves of the trinity: sprigs of oak, ash, and thorn. She spoke little to anyone that day other than Shaggy, trying to cleanse and purify her mind and spirit. It would do no good to only prepare the physical aspects of the ritual. She must be prepared herself.

That night, she took Shaggy with her to the clearing. There was a tree there, tall and straight with roots covered with soft, springy moss. She took a deep breath and slowly disrobed as Shaggy silently settled himself once, twice, thrice in a circle near her, making his own bed amongst the green. She anointed herself with what she had prepared, the thin paste soon covering her body and the leaves and twigs stuck about her hair almost like a crown.

With one last prayer to Silvanus, she closed her eyes and lay down in the moss, her back to Shaggy’s, his fur warming her, his steady breathing seeming to match her heartbeat. Soon, she fell asleep…

Arian sees a vision of the ley lines, the sap-lines or blood vessels of the earth, glowing green with primal energy as they criss-cross the world. Then to the west at the place she knows is Feycircle, a kernel of decay - a great carrion worm feeds on the life-power. Slowly, black striations of rot begin to spread out aross the land. Green grass turns to ash. The holly bushes become twisted and withered, the vines of the Duskthorn Dryads ooze black filth. Eventually even the hearts of the great Treants of Earthwood become rotted, undead... the land darkens. 

But it is a slow process - months, weeks, years... and the source behind it is powerful, very powerful. 

Arian seems to hear the voice of the Woods-Father as leaves on the wind.

"Ready... You must be Ready, You and your Folk. Do not rush hastily against the Carrion Worm, lest it spell Doom for Ye, and all the Land."

Slowly the vision fades.

Arian awoke filled with both a sense of wonder and dread. She had felt the touch of Silvanus but the news he bore was dreadful. Still, it was better to know what lay ahead than not. She knew in her heart that they were not ready yet to face so great a foe. 

She had to tell Jaroo. He needed to know what the root of all the evil was. Perhaps he had even sent other young druids out to deal with the problem -- or he would, if he didn't hear from her. She did not want anyone walking into their death.

She ran to the Fort to tell the others her plan. The others are busy training, but Wisteria agrees to go with her. They travel by horse as quickly as is possible and the journey, thankfully is uneventful. It is a welcome respite, actually -- a few days with just the two of them and nothing to fight or kill. They talk about meaningless things, the kind that mean everything.

They reach the Grove mid afternoon and are ushered straight in to see Jaroo who is communing with the Great Oak, the enchanted tree that allows him to communicate with far-flung druids across Damara and Impiltur.

Jaroo: "Yes?"

Arian bows nervously before him. "Jaroo, I came because I could not wait for another sending. I have news of what lies in wait beneath Feycircle Tor."

"Go on," he said.

"I completed a ritual to communicate with The Forest Father and there is an unimaginable evil there. One, I am afraid, I am not yet capable of defeating even with the help of the companions I have made. It is a Great Carrion Worm. But the good news is that it moves at a snail's pace. The danger is great and real -- but it will be some time before the evil creature reaches any farther. This will give me time to grow and learn so that I may defeat it."

She bowed again, but as she did so, she slipped on the steps and clumsily righted herself.

Jaroo doesn't look too impressed. "Strange that I could not sense this. But perhaps your greater proximity to the taint allowed for more insight. I do not know what exactly this 'worm' might be."

"I understand that you know me little, but I hope that you can look deep into my heart and see that I have no deception or guile in me." Arian held back a sudden wetness in her eyes. She could feel it -- she had not convinced him. He had not understood. It was her fault for being so bad at communicating the Forest Father's vision. "I am rough, I know. But I have only the land in my heart."

"I do not doubt you. But... Even if it is too powerful to defeat, we must have more information. Get as close as you can to the source of corruption at Feycircle, try to discern more of its nature. Is it a physical threat, to be fought by swords and spells? Or spiritual? Perhaps it is demonic in nature, and the Priests and Paladins of Ilmater will aid us. Or it could be Fey. Aberrant, even..."

She could only do what she could. Her actions, not her words, would have to be enough. "I will do what I can and grow in my knowledge as fast as possible. I have found steadfast companions in my journey with many different strengths and they care about the people and the land as I do."

"Very good. It sounds as if you will need strong allies for the task ahead. Do not be afraid to seek aid from the Monks of the Yellow Rose and the Paladins of the Golden Cup. They do not see the world as we do, but they are fierce foes of Evil."

"One of our number is, indeed, a Monk of the Yellow Rose and another is a Paladin." She smiled a bit, wishing they were here, especially the paladin with his glib tongue. "They are fierce indeed."

That reminded her of the other reason she had come. "On another matter, though it is related, we have recently liberated an orc stronghold and have been given control of it. I hope to heal the wounds on the land there and, perhaps, also teach the ways of the Forest Father. Do you know of any younglings that are curious about our ways who wold wish to take a position in our stronghold? I could use the assistance. I want to make it a place of natural peace and healing."

Jaroo smiles slighty. "Good. Remind me, did I tell you of my old comrade, Elmo of Hommlet? His home village is not far from Feycircle. I'm sure he will be keen to aid us - I can Send to him, to let him know you are coming."

"I have not heard his name, but I look forward to meeting him."

Jaroo considered her a moment, as if he were measuring something. "None of the latest Novitiates are yet ready to leave the Grove. But you may find adherents of the Old Faith in Carmathan or Arcata - look for holly or oak leaves above the door. Elmo, too, is of our Faith and may be able to suggest someone."

"I thank you for your time, Jaroo." That was it. There was no more, at least not for now.

"Thank you for coming. Here, some money for your expenses..."

Arian took the proffered pouch thankfully and resisted the urge to peek inside. It felt to be about 10 gold? At least the journey was covered. "Oh, I do thank you greatly for that. I hope to establish a healing garden as well and this will go well to get that started. Is there someone here I could talk to about purchasing some hardy rootstock and plants to take with me?" She looked down for a moment and then away. "I feel that...the healing power of the Forest Father will be needed in the coming days."

Jaroo nodded. "Of course - speak with Bergana" - he directs Arian to a stout old druidess who is very keen to talk about plants.

Arian shared a bottle of her finest home brew, but the shrewd druidess would not be budged on the price of the plants.

They took a bit of time to wander around the Grove. It had a timeless quality, seeming far removed from the political ferment of Damara. Amidst the ancient trees Arian and Wisteria both feel a sense of peace. Finding a bit of the moss in her hair from the clearing where she had the vision from the Forest Father, Arian found a tree and placed the moss on it, then watered it from her waterskin.

And says a few words to Silvanus: "...may the peace I feel here spread throughout the land."

She and Wisteria left soon after and returned to the Fort. At least they had the start of their garden! Little else had been solved, but she felt no guilt in that she had done her duty and the druids at the Grove knew as much as she did.