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Manteekan's Return
A spray of blood rises above the treetops which sends a murder of crows into the sky, their startled caws nearly drowned out by the sinister laughter of a redcap near the centre of the forest.
Entrance to the putrefied glen.
The shadows violently writhe and twist along the ground here, indicating a war shrine of Nocht nearby. Glaring about the area suspiciously, Brultk Thornblood paces back and forth here. Split down the middle, a ravenwood sapling has been crushed here. A hemlock sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. A grotesque ravenwood tree stands here, branches twisted and knotted. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. Tarkenton, Father of Nightmares towers here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker glances blankly at you as a dark chuckle rises in his throat.
Short and stocky as with most of his kind, Brultk Thornblood wears the namesake hat of the redcaps, drenched in ever-flowing blood. His arms taper down into hand bearing three long fingers, tipped with wicked claws. There is none of the usual mischief evident of the fae in this redcap, simply malicious intent shining through his crimson eyes. His gazes shifts back and forth restlessly as if searching for something.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker is not one to be trifled with.
He weighs about 175 pounds.
He is loyal to the Free Collective of Glomdoring.
You cannot see what Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker is holding.
It has the following aliases: brultk, redcap, caretaker.
The crows raise their voice in rapturous praise, heralding the return of Viravain, the Lady of Thorns, to the First World.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker says, "Soon..."
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker cackles hellishly.
With a flourish, Tarkenton draws a razor-thin katana with a leopard etching from a low-slung back scabbard.
Tarkenton's knuckles grow momentarily white as he strengthens his grip.
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "So it has come."
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker hops back forth upon the balls of his feet as he eyes each of you, a sinister grin stretching over his visage.
Tarkenton, Father of Nightmares says to Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker, "What is soon, redcap?"
"Shh!" says Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker, putting a finger to his lips.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker says, "Winter is coming."
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker looks around furtively, brings his hand to his mouth and releases a small 'teehee'.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker's eyes go blank and he slumps forward, all energy gone from his body.
The morning light darkens briefly as arcs of shadow reach across the Basin, heralding the return of Nocht, the Silent to mortal perception.
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Nocht. What I spoke of has come."
(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Indeed, dearest Viravain?"
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Come. Let Us make ready beneath the boughs of the Ravenwood."
Before the Master Ravenwood Tree.
Brennan Stormcrow paces here, his cadaverous body twitching with sudden jerks. The Master Ravenwood Tree towers over everything here, pulsing with an immeasurable yet dark power. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. There are 16 dark nighthags here. There are 4 black direwolves here. There are 5 illithoid scourges here. There are 5 shadowlord widowriders here. A crudely crafted shrine of harsh black crystal stands here, thrumming powerfully. Covered in bone armour, a green eyelash viper is slithering about here. A mature rowan tree stands proudly here. There are 2 palm sigils here. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a wasp around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a spider around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a bat around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a beetle around its skull. There are 2 glittering black roses here. A nut from a ravenwood tree leaf rests on the ground. Nocht, the Silent hovers here, His form enveloped in a dark halo of writhing and twisting shadows. Fly Cuchulain, Ward of the Wyrd is here. He wields a midnight black katana with both hands.
You see a single exit leading north.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.
Strange threads of webbing shine above you, glimmering briefly into view in an elegant display of arcing orbs and shining silk. In the canopy, crows chatter amongst each other, and the shadows conceal the weaving.
Turning to Nocht, Someone powerful says, "I am ready, Nocht."
Someone powerful says, "I trust You have made Your own preparations."
Shadows flicker over the blue surface of Viravain's eyes like crows over snow.
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Of course..."
Viravain smiles softly.
The sky grows dark as the mists that fill the sky begin to thicken, a dark miasma forming over the Glomdoring Forest which churns violently as it tears at the air about it.
Viravain turns Her attention to the sky, Her eyes narrowed.
Nocht tilts His head skyward watching the miasma.
Viravain strokes a wickedly curved scythe tenderly.
A pale figure coalesces within the miasma as the raucous cries of fae peal through the air, their howls and shrieks echoing throughout the Basin.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Not, then, one of the Soulless."
A raucous, defiant crowsong rises from the canopy of the Glomdoring, echoing up from the writhing branches of the forest.
A bone-rattling whisper hushes the disturbed spirits of the forest as it tears through the noise, "Come to Me, My children. Our time is now!"
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Hmm... So bold a demand."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips as She glances at Nocht.
The miasma above the forest begins to rumble and the temperature drops as the wispy figure takes form, rising high above the forest. Two pale, icy eyes blink open and a joyous wail rings out, sending a disturbing chill down your spine.
Manic whispers linger at the edge of perception, their murmurs filling you with a deep, unsettling fear, as Manteekan, the Terror appears amidst the haze.
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Nocht narrows His eyes to thin slits.
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "Hmm. It seems Mine have found a new home. Let Us see why disobey Me and insist on remaining here."
The fog slowly settles within the Glomdoring as Manteekan descends upon the commune, silence suddenly filling the air once more.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says to Nocht, "I trust You remember what We spoke of?"
Maniacal whispers come in bursts as a hazy mist chills the air with its cool embrace. Amidst the frigid fog, two pale eyes glow, as the pallor form of Manteekan, the Terror, slowly coalesces within.
Nocht nods, His gaze shifting to Viravain.
Spiders take refuge from the trees, skittering in waves of eight-legged carapaces along the trunks and beneath the roots, where their eyes glint in the shadows.
He is a radiant immortal and He rubs His needlelike fingers together as He gazes sternly from behind His icy, pale eyes. Smooth, leathery skin is pulled taut over His frail, bony frame, the flesh nearly translucent in its pallor, while alabaster strands of hair billow behind Him, whipping frantically through the air as if caught in a constant gale. Chin tilted to the sky, He stands with an arrogance not afforded to Him by His form. A ghastly aura hangs about Him, manifesting in a cool fog that gathers at His feet, the miasma roiling like an impending storm. He is wearing billowing robes of a chilled mist.
Locking Manteekan in an uncomfortable stare, you slowly blink one eye and then the other.
Viravain stands very still, Her face expressionless, the butt of Her scythe planted in the dirt of the Forest. With a casual gesture, She spins Her weapon loose, and it vanishes into the air itself.
Viravain runs Her hands through Her hair, and it shades to golden. Her eyes fade from wintry blue to a soft, demure green beneath long, pale eyelashes.
Viravain smiles softly at Manteekan.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "Well... an audience. Come to watch Me reclaim what is Mine, have You?"
Demurely, eyes downcast, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "So You've come to receive Your due as conquerer."
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Silence, Glomdoring."
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Let Him speak."
Manteekan, the Terror says, "I have come to see why MY children disobey My call. I merely take what is Mine, little Viravain."
Her voice girlish, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Yours?"
Viravain blinks, Her green eyes wide.
Tarkenton lowers his paw from his sword's hilt, and stands silent next to a few of the young present.
Running His hand over Viravain's golden locks, Manteekan, the Terror says, "Yes, Mine. All shall be Mine, soon enough."
Her voice quavering, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Don't... don't touch Me. Nocht!"
Learning in and placing His cool lips upon Her cheek, Manteekan, the Terror says to Viravain, "Perhaps You shall join Me at My side, if You behave."
Viravain's eyes widen slightly and the corner of Her right eye starts to tic uncontrollably.
Viravain steps up to Manteekan and, in one smooth motion, backhands Him viciously across the face.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Do not. Touch. ME!"
Nocht glides forward, the shadows around Him darkening to hide His face. He comes to hover next to Viravain.
Caws echoing enraged through the forest, a murder of crows divebombs out of the trees, slamming into Manteekan.
Manteekan rubs the pallor skin of His cheek as a grin grows upon His face.
Viravain clings to Nocht, Her eyes green and guileless.
Manteekan swats the birds from His sight as He turns His glance to Nocht.
Still eyeing Viravain, Manteekan, the Terror says to Nocht, "And You, Awakener, You stand by Her side as well?"
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Of course, dearest Manteekan. As I always have."
A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "Then it will be a pleasure ruining You both!"
Manteekan reaches His hand toward the sky, pulling down a swirl of mist that begins to gather about the two Elders.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "I advise You to not pursue this, Manteekan."
Shadows flicker over the blue surface of Viravain's eyes like crows over snow.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "I advise You to be still, else You will only hurt Yourselves more."
Viravain's hair begins to fade, golden receding to reveal silvery locks. Her lips part in a thin, feral smile.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "By all means, Manteekan."
The miasma above Glomdoring churns as the mists begin to funnel into the Forest.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "This shall be painless. Mostly."
Viravain tilts Her head back, regarding the sky with eyes of blue ice.
Manteekan surrounds the Elders with a cloud of fog and lets out a bone-rattling wail that pierces through the sky.
Haze turns to ice as Viravain and Nocht are sealed away within the mists, Their forms wrapped by the frigid prison that binds Them.
A chilled mist fills the air, carrying with it a harsh whisper that echoes through the trees, "My children, think you to disobey Me for this? What does this place provide for you that I cannot?"
The howls of barghests peal through the sky as the whispering continues, "If you wish, My children. You are quite fortunate that I am needing of a new residence, with Zenos's presence filling the Icewynderkyl."
Shrieking echoes away from the Glomdoring forest as Manteekan whispers through the still air, "Come, My children, We've a forest to claim!"
The tortured cries of slaugh, red cap, and barghest alike rise from the Glomdoring as Manteekan rises above the forest once more.
The pallor form of Manteekan, the Terror, dissolves into a cool mist which creeps hauntingly away into the distance, leaving behind naught but an eerie silence and an unsettling chill.
The shadows stir, lengthening and reaching, becoming the winds of unseen birds, the talons of murders twigs beneath. A conspiratorial cackle eddies down from the canopy of the Forest.
Manteekan tugs at the mist about Him as the cries of the fae ring out from within the Glomdoring.
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "Yes, My children. Return to Me once more!"
Manteekan erupts into a horrendous cackle, the shrill laughter sending a slow chill down your spine as it peals into the distance.
Entrance to the putrefied glen.
The shadows violently writhe and twist along the ground here, indicating a war shrine of Nocht nearby. Glaring about the area suspiciously, Brultk Thornblood paces back and forth here. Split down the middle, a ravenwood sapling has been crushed here. A hemlock sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. A grotesque ravenwood tree stands here, branches twisted and knotted. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. Tarkenton, Father of Nightmares towers here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker glances blankly at you as a dark chuckle rises in his throat.
Short and stocky as with most of his kind, Brultk Thornblood wears the namesake hat of the redcaps, drenched in ever-flowing blood. His arms taper down into hand bearing three long fingers, tipped with wicked claws. There is none of the usual mischief evident of the fae in this redcap, simply malicious intent shining through his crimson eyes. His gazes shifts back and forth restlessly as if searching for something.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker is not one to be trifled with.
He weighs about 175 pounds.
He is loyal to the Free Collective of Glomdoring.
You cannot see what Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker is holding.
It has the following aliases: brultk, redcap, caretaker.
The crows raise their voice in rapturous praise, heralding the return of Viravain, the Lady of Thorns, to the First World.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker says, "Soon..."
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker cackles hellishly.
With a flourish, Tarkenton draws a razor-thin katana with a leopard etching from a low-slung back scabbard.
Tarkenton's knuckles grow momentarily white as he strengthens his grip.
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "So it has come."
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker hops back forth upon the balls of his feet as he eyes each of you, a sinister grin stretching over his visage.
Tarkenton, Father of Nightmares says to Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker, "What is soon, redcap?"
"Shh!" says Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker, putting a finger to his lips.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker says, "Winter is coming."
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker looks around furtively, brings his hand to his mouth and releases a small 'teehee'.
Brultk Thornblood, the outcast caretaker's eyes go blank and he slumps forward, all energy gone from his body.
The morning light darkens briefly as arcs of shadow reach across the Basin, heralding the return of Nocht, the Silent to mortal perception.
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Nocht. What I spoke of has come."
(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Indeed, dearest Viravain?"
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Come. Let Us make ready beneath the boughs of the Ravenwood."
Before the Master Ravenwood Tree.
Brennan Stormcrow paces here, his cadaverous body twitching with sudden jerks. The Master Ravenwood Tree towers over everything here, pulsing with an immeasurable yet dark power. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. There are 16 dark nighthags here. There are 4 black direwolves here. There are 5 illithoid scourges here. There are 5 shadowlord widowriders here. A crudely crafted shrine of harsh black crystal stands here, thrumming powerfully. Covered in bone armour, a green eyelash viper is slithering about here. A mature rowan tree stands proudly here. There are 2 palm sigils here. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a wasp around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a spider around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a bat around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a beetle around its skull. There are 2 glittering black roses here. A nut from a ravenwood tree leaf rests on the ground. Nocht, the Silent hovers here, His form enveloped in a dark halo of writhing and twisting shadows. Fly Cuchulain, Ward of the Wyrd is here. He wields a midnight black katana with both hands.
You see a single exit leading north.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.
Strange threads of webbing shine above you, glimmering briefly into view in an elegant display of arcing orbs and shining silk. In the canopy, crows chatter amongst each other, and the shadows conceal the weaving.
Turning to Nocht, Someone powerful says, "I am ready, Nocht."
Someone powerful says, "I trust You have made Your own preparations."
Shadows flicker over the blue surface of Viravain's eyes like crows over snow.
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Of course..."
Viravain smiles softly.
The sky grows dark as the mists that fill the sky begin to thicken, a dark miasma forming over the Glomdoring Forest which churns violently as it tears at the air about it.
Viravain turns Her attention to the sky, Her eyes narrowed.
Nocht tilts His head skyward watching the miasma.
Viravain strokes a wickedly curved scythe tenderly.
A pale figure coalesces within the miasma as the raucous cries of fae peal through the air, their howls and shrieks echoing throughout the Basin.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Not, then, one of the Soulless."
A raucous, defiant crowsong rises from the canopy of the Glomdoring, echoing up from the writhing branches of the forest.
A bone-rattling whisper hushes the disturbed spirits of the forest as it tears through the noise, "Come to Me, My children. Our time is now!"
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Hmm... So bold a demand."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips as She glances at Nocht.
The miasma above the forest begins to rumble and the temperature drops as the wispy figure takes form, rising high above the forest. Two pale, icy eyes blink open and a joyous wail rings out, sending a disturbing chill down your spine.
Manic whispers linger at the edge of perception, their murmurs filling you with a deep, unsettling fear, as Manteekan, the Terror appears amidst the haze.
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Nocht narrows His eyes to thin slits.
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "Hmm. It seems Mine have found a new home. Let Us see why disobey Me and insist on remaining here."
The fog slowly settles within the Glomdoring as Manteekan descends upon the commune, silence suddenly filling the air once more.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says to Nocht, "I trust You remember what We spoke of?"
Maniacal whispers come in bursts as a hazy mist chills the air with its cool embrace. Amidst the frigid fog, two pale eyes glow, as the pallor form of Manteekan, the Terror, slowly coalesces within.
Nocht nods, His gaze shifting to Viravain.
Spiders take refuge from the trees, skittering in waves of eight-legged carapaces along the trunks and beneath the roots, where their eyes glint in the shadows.
He is a radiant immortal and He rubs His needlelike fingers together as He gazes sternly from behind His icy, pale eyes. Smooth, leathery skin is pulled taut over His frail, bony frame, the flesh nearly translucent in its pallor, while alabaster strands of hair billow behind Him, whipping frantically through the air as if caught in a constant gale. Chin tilted to the sky, He stands with an arrogance not afforded to Him by His form. A ghastly aura hangs about Him, manifesting in a cool fog that gathers at His feet, the miasma roiling like an impending storm. He is wearing billowing robes of a chilled mist.
Locking Manteekan in an uncomfortable stare, you slowly blink one eye and then the other.
Viravain stands very still, Her face expressionless, the butt of Her scythe planted in the dirt of the Forest. With a casual gesture, She spins Her weapon loose, and it vanishes into the air itself.
Viravain runs Her hands through Her hair, and it shades to golden. Her eyes fade from wintry blue to a soft, demure green beneath long, pale eyelashes.
Viravain smiles softly at Manteekan.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "Well... an audience. Come to watch Me reclaim what is Mine, have You?"
Demurely, eyes downcast, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "So You've come to receive Your due as conquerer."
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Silence, Glomdoring."
(Glomdoring): Viravain says, "Let Him speak."
Manteekan, the Terror says, "I have come to see why MY children disobey My call. I merely take what is Mine, little Viravain."
Her voice girlish, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Yours?"
Viravain blinks, Her green eyes wide.
Tarkenton lowers his paw from his sword's hilt, and stands silent next to a few of the young present.
Running His hand over Viravain's golden locks, Manteekan, the Terror says, "Yes, Mine. All shall be Mine, soon enough."
Her voice quavering, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Don't... don't touch Me. Nocht!"
Learning in and placing His cool lips upon Her cheek, Manteekan, the Terror says to Viravain, "Perhaps You shall join Me at My side, if You behave."
Viravain's eyes widen slightly and the corner of Her right eye starts to tic uncontrollably.
Viravain steps up to Manteekan and, in one smooth motion, backhands Him viciously across the face.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Do not. Touch. ME!"
Nocht glides forward, the shadows around Him darkening to hide His face. He comes to hover next to Viravain.
Caws echoing enraged through the forest, a murder of crows divebombs out of the trees, slamming into Manteekan.
Manteekan rubs the pallor skin of His cheek as a grin grows upon His face.
Viravain clings to Nocht, Her eyes green and guileless.
Manteekan swats the birds from His sight as He turns His glance to Nocht.
Still eyeing Viravain, Manteekan, the Terror says to Nocht, "And You, Awakener, You stand by Her side as well?"
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Of course, dearest Manteekan. As I always have."
A distorted laughter escapes Manteekan's throat, the forced amusement sending a shudder of discomfort rippling down your spine.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "Then it will be a pleasure ruining You both!"
Manteekan reaches His hand toward the sky, pulling down a swirl of mist that begins to gather about the two Elders.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "I advise You to not pursue this, Manteekan."
Shadows flicker over the blue surface of Viravain's eyes like crows over snow.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "I advise You to be still, else You will only hurt Yourselves more."
Viravain's hair begins to fade, golden receding to reveal silvery locks. Her lips part in a thin, feral smile.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "By all means, Manteekan."
The miasma above Glomdoring churns as the mists begin to funnel into the Forest.
Manteekan, the Terror says, "This shall be painless. Mostly."
Viravain tilts Her head back, regarding the sky with eyes of blue ice.
Manteekan surrounds the Elders with a cloud of fog and lets out a bone-rattling wail that pierces through the sky.
Haze turns to ice as Viravain and Nocht are sealed away within the mists, Their forms wrapped by the frigid prison that binds Them.
A chilled mist fills the air, carrying with it a harsh whisper that echoes through the trees, "My children, think you to disobey Me for this? What does this place provide for you that I cannot?"
The howls of barghests peal through the sky as the whispering continues, "If you wish, My children. You are quite fortunate that I am needing of a new residence, with Zenos's presence filling the Icewynderkyl."
Shrieking echoes away from the Glomdoring forest as Manteekan whispers through the still air, "Come, My children, We've a forest to claim!"
The tortured cries of slaugh, red cap, and barghest alike rise from the Glomdoring as Manteekan rises above the forest once more.
The pallor form of Manteekan, the Terror, dissolves into a cool mist which creeps hauntingly away into the distance, leaving behind naught but an eerie silence and an unsettling chill.
The shadows stir, lengthening and reaching, becoming the winds of unseen birds, the talons of murders twigs beneath. A conspiratorial cackle eddies down from the canopy of the Forest.
Manteekan tugs at the mist about Him as the cries of the fae ring out from within the Glomdoring.
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "Yes, My children. Return to Me once more!"
Manteekan erupts into a horrendous cackle, the shrill laughter sending a slow chill down your spine as it peals into the distance.
A far away voice whispers, the sound barely reaching your ears, yet the words remain perfectly clear, "Then so be it."
7
(c) Iron Realms Entertainment 2012.
Comments
The haunting figures of innumerable fae suddenly rise above the treetops, joining Manteekan at His side.
Shadows begin to churn around each of the fae, tethered to the forest below by tendrils of the penumbral matter that shoot upward from amongst the trees.
As the darkness continues to consume each of the spirits, it soon turns upon Manteekan, swirling about His pale form.
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "What is this? Think you powerful enough to resist Me, Glomdoring? Now you shall see the true power of My nightmares!"
Manteekan churns the mists about Him, digging His needle-like fingers deep into the miasma as a swarm of fae rise above the Forest.
The tortured laughter of the Frost Sprite rings away from Mount Wend as he joins his Awakener above the commune. Squonks and spriggans soon join the slaughs, barghests, and redcaps that surround Manteekan as He continues to manipulate the haze, the army of fae about Him growing with every second.
Manteekan makes one final pull within the mists and the fae cry out in pain. Suddenly, the shadows grow darker about Him and wrap about His form as they stretch away from each of the fae.
With a roar, shadowfire ignites around the forms of Nocht and Viravain, searing Their bonds into nothingness. With a turn of Her hand, Viravain spins Her scythe lazily in the air, a thin smile on Her lips.
With a rattling of branches like sabers, the Forest of the Glomdoring seethes and writhes, tossing the pale form of Manteekan into the air. Shadowfire glows in the canopy as long, black-barked vines seize the God, winding swiftly around His limbs and torso.
You see Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shout, "Ignorant fool that You are, You would seize the Wyrd! Behold the true power of the Glomdoring!"
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "You think this strong enough to hold Me, little Viravain? And You, Nocht, do You think Me this weak?"
You see Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shout, "You've been gone a long time, Manteekan. It's time You became acquainted with the glory of the Wyrd!"
Nocht raises an arm, tendrils of shadow climbing into the sky along with the vines, grasping at the Traitor God.
Crows sing out mockingly, swarming in a murmuration of wings to the topmost perches in the crown of the Glomdoring, their wings upraised and mantled. The glow of the Wyrden shadowfire is reflected in their beady eyes as Viravain, Lady of the Thorns rises from beneath, Her scythe wielded in one outstretched hand.
You see Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shout, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "We shall see what comes of You, Viravain!"
Viravain gestures, casting out Her hand. Thorns grow from the cocooning vines around Manteekan, piercing deep into His flesh. The shadowfire, the purple glow of the Wyrd made manifest, bursts from sullen embers in the wood to a liquid flame.
You see Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shout, "I wouldn't spend too much time worrying about Me, Manteekan. You've more pressing matters to occupy Yourself with!"
Whispers fill the sky as Manteekan struggles against the trap, the mists about Him slowly freezing around His form.
Viravain's arms spread, and a sucking portal opens in the sky, revealing an icy, tree-bound prison - the surrounds resemble that of the Ethereal. Vines reach from the portal, and the cocoon grows tighter, shadowfire and ice both binding Manteekan even firmer.
The divine voice of Manteekan, the Terror reverberates powerfully, "All shall have what is Theirs in time!"
You see Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shout, "And the Wyrd shall feast on Your bones!"
With a roar, the vines suck Manteekan's prison through the portal, which slams shut, vanishing into the darkness of the night.
Viravain strokes a wickedly curved scythe tenderly.
Nocht nods silently, a faint smile on his lips.
The shadows stir, lengthening and reaching, becoming the winds of unseen birds, the talons of murders twigs beneath. A conspiratorial cackle eddies down from the canopy of the Forest.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Shall we examine Our catch, dearest Viravain?"
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips as She glances at Nocht.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Let Us do so."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "I have a few kicks to deliver to His ribs."
Nocht opens a rift to the ethereal realm with a flick of the hand, disappearing through it in a flash.
(Glomdoring): Nocht says, "Our visitor's prison is within the Ethereal Glomdoring, little ones. Should you wish to visit."
-
A frozen bore beneath the forest.
A pillar of ice towers within the centre of the cave, vines stretching up from the ground to bind the imposing structure. Snarling and slavering, a massive crimson rage worg with ghostly wings of dust and ash waits here. Nocht, the Silent hovers here, His form enveloped in a dark halo of writhing and twisting shadows.
You see a single exit leading southwest.
probe pillar
A column of swirled ice rises high above, the air about it filled with a biting cold. Tangled about the pillar are thorned vines which grab at the structure as they intertwine over its frozen surface. A shadow of a form lies hidden within the centre of the frosty prison, the pallor of its grey skin visible beneath the frigid confine. Haunting whispers hang heavy about the tower as a constant murmur echoes off of the walls, the ghostly sound cutting through the hazy air.
Hushed whispers surround the icy pillar as a fine mist drifts idly through the air.
A whirlpool of incorporeal shadows fills the area with an unnatural darkness, revealing the ghostly figure of Viravain, Lady of the Thorns at their centre as the umbral filaments dissipate.
Viravain regards the pillar of ice disdainfully, Her nose wrinkled.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "It appears to be reflected within the Wydyr Glade as well."
Darkly, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Good. The Wyrd will feed well on this fool."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Behold, Glomdoring, the reward for arrogance."
Within the pillar, the vines writhe about the pale figure trapped within as two pale eyes stare outward from behind the ice.
Master Chief Daganev Treeripper, the Merciless says, "What is in the pillar, I can't see it very well."
Viravain smiles, Her lips parting in a feral grin.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Manteekan, the so-called Terror."
Druid Solestran, the Steadfast says, "In ice, testament to Her strength."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Not merely Mine."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips as He glances at Viravain.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Let this be a tactical lesson. For each of Manteekan's incursions, I responded softly, and let Him grow overconfident. At last, He stood within the Forest itself, sure of His dominance over a foe He had not met for aeons."
Eyes flashing blue with ice, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "True strength needs no bragging."
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Merely elegance and cunning."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "The forest will thrive as the Wyrd feeds on Him."
Stifled cries ring out from within the pillar as shadows twist about the figure within, crawling over His skin as they gradually consume Him.
Master Chief Daganev Treeripper, the Merciless says, "Will Manteekan become consumed, or just his arrogance eaten away, until he becomes an elder fit for the Glomdoring?"
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Perfection is the work of aeons and practice."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Who can say in what way it shall manifest?"
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips as She glances at an imposing pillar of ice and vine.
Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Then I will take My leave, dearest Viravain. Glomdoring. I will reinforce the bindings so Our work will not be for nothing."
Viravain smiles softly at Nocht.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "A pleasure as always, Nocht."
Viravain gestures sharply. The thorned vines within curl in on themselves and bite deeply into the form within the ice.
To the pillar, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Lay a hand on Me, will You."
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Leaning in, close to the ice, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "I hope it freezes off."
Viravain curls Her lip and sneers arrogantly.
Lazily, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "A pity My Brother is away hunting, and cannot defend My honour by removing... other parts."
Master Chief Daganev Treeripper, the Merciless says, "Why did this elder manifest his attacks with ice?"
Viravain gazes away briefly, Her eyes hooded, as if in thought.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Manteekan ever worked with Jadice."
Dismissively, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Thus the shaping of the wendigo and His fae."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "I must attend to the fae He stirred, and the forest."
Daganev nods his head emphatically.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Keep well a watch on this one. Let us not make the same mistakes He did."
Tarkenton, Father of Nightmares says, "Brultk, in particular, may require attention, Lady."
Viravain nods Her head at Tarkenton.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "I shall tend to him."
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Well done today, Glomdoring."
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Viravain's lips.
Coiling sinuously about Her petite frame, stygian shadows cloak Viravain in an unnatural darkness and evanesce into the aether, leaving behind only the faintest scent of roses.
A cool haze rises from the icy prison as Manteekan grows still within, the shadows cocooning about His form as they writhe and shift.
Your mind fills with an intense wailing as you gaze over the icy prison, the broken words piercing your very being as they shriek, "Non. sh... st.p M.!"
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Maybe @Isune will pop up for some shade.
#wishfulthinking
A soft voice enters your mind and whispers, "....Jadice..."
A frozen bore beneath the forest.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. A pillar of ice towers within the centre of the cave, vines stretching up from the ground to bind the imposing structure.
You see a single exit leading southwest.
Chilling mist coalesces where previously there was none.
A soft voice enters your mind and whispers, "Druid....whe..is....Jadice.."
Pressing his hand to the pillar, leaning as though to stare within, you say, "Why do you call to Her? Is it Your hope...do You think that She is Your salvation from the glory that is the Wyrd?"
The pillar of ice shifts abruptly, thorns undulating about it viciously as some sudden movement within is quelled.
A soft voice enters your mind and whispers, "...fool.."
The pillar shudders before going still, a rattling whisper shifting sluggishly through the air.
A soft voice enters your mind and whispers, "...Jadice.."
Looming out of the darkness, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "How well you keep watch, My little spider."
Shadows flicker over the blue surface of Viravain's eyes like crows over snow.
You have emoted: Phulbelishi removes his hand from the icy prison, the opposite rubbing the flesh to return some warmth. He turns, bending quickly to one knee before Viravain, his head bowed in reverence.
Viravain turns to the pillar, Her eyes sharp.
Viravain gestures, once. The thorns bite even deeper into the form within, writhing and constricting.
A tortured, high scream echoes through Ethereal, and the air smells intensely of roses.
Viravain smirks.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "Ah yes... the vines feast on His marrow."
Asani Myeras, of the Blackthorn yells, "You'll learn not to tangle with the Lady of Thorns."
Viravain smirks.
Viravain lifts a dainty hand to Her neckline, glancing about with uncertain disdain.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says to you, "Let this be a lesson to you. The Wyrd is a living force."
Harshly, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "You serve the Forest. It does not serve you."
With its gaze intent on you, a massive black widow crawls across the bark of the nearest of the blackthorns and settles in, staring.
Viravain lifts a hand to the spider, a faint smile on Her lips.
Eyes narrowing, Viravain, Lady of the Thorns says, "And nothing else matters."
Viravain inclines Her head politely to those around Her.
Coiling sinuously about Her petite frame, stygian shadows cloak Viravain in an unnatural darkness and evanesce into the aether, leaving behind only the faintest scent of roses.
Still knelt, his voice soft and seemingly addressing the ground, you say, "And none shall ever serve me, for all those I conquer will in turn be fed to Your Forest."
You murmur, "For nothing else matters..."
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Why do people keep telling me that. :-S