Licie Learns about Past, Present, and Future

Everiine

Grasses beside Moon River.

Dense white clouds have spread completely across the sky. This small area of grass leads from the Alabaster Road down to the banks of the Moon River. The road to the south is a line of white stone, threading beneath the tall trees that crowd around it. Moon River to the northwest, however, is a wide expanse of water, a massive river that cuts a path through the trees and forces them apart. Gravel lines the banks as they slope down to meet the river's edge. Two concentric circles of stones are set out in the grasses here. A mature hornbeam tree stands proudly here. An elder moonhart tree towers overhead, her thick trunk rooted firmly in the ground. Hackles risen, a fierce timberwolf prowls about here. Bauta-na-Grindir, Eldritch Stele, floats ominously above the ground.

Licie arrives from the northwest.

Licie blinks.

Licie claps her hands together merrily.

Licie curtseys gracefully before you.

Licie tells you, "Thank you, I think I understand where I went wrong now."

Sitting on the ground with his hands over the campfire, Everiine smiles at your entrance and nods his head. "Welcome to this sacred place. You made it," he says.

Licie nods to you before opening her mouth and pointing at a cauterized stump where a tongue should be before bowing several times in thanks.

Licie tells you, "Why is this place sacred?"

Everiine looks puzzled, but realizes the reason for your lack of speech, and nods his head. "These stones," he says, gesturing to the circles around you, "mark a place where the veil between this realm and the spirit realm runs thin. The Lost Tribe used them to contact the Warrior Spirits."

Licie open her eyes wide at the explanation before leaning down to knee, reaching out to touch the stone before pausing. She turns to you pointing at the stone with one hand and herself with the other, before running her hand in a circle as if rubbing an object.

Licie tells you, "I am new, to aetheric communication, it is odd... but if my pantomiming is confusing please do not be afraid to let me know."

Everiine nods his head. "Aye, you may touch the stones. They themselves have no power, they only mark this spot."

Licie nods her head emphatically.

Licie runs her fingers across the mossy stones with a soft smile on her lips, the fingertips dancing over the clinging grasses, slowly but purposefully.

Licie tells you, "These Warrior Spirits, what are they? I am unfamiliar with much and would like to pay due respect as I can."

There's a very brief shadow of sadness that flits across the worn, lined face of the old trill. When it passes, Everiine looks up at you and points to the orange mark on his face. "Brother Jaguar, the Hunter, taught the Lost Tribe how to better themselves." Next, he points over his shoulder and twists, showing a glimpse of the blue mark on his back. "Brother Eagle, the Seer, taught them how to learn and understand." Finally, without pointing to any mark, he says, "And Sister Wolverine, the Predator, taught them how to kill."

Licie frowns, looking around to the nearby lake and through the trees, a soft worry on her features. She walks closer to the campfire, lowering herself to wrap her arms around her knees.

Licie tells you, "You speak as though they are... gone?"

Everiine unfurls his wings and curves them toward the campfire, creating a space to trap more of the heat and keep you more comfortable. "Both the Lost Tribe and the Three Warriors: the Lost Tribe, because it fell when the other guilds fell; and the Three Warriors, with Whom I have failed to reach since those calamitous times, and Who, as far as I can tell, retreated to Their own realm when the Lost Tribe They guided fell."

Licie smiles softly at the gesture, reaching out her hands near to the flame. She listens intently as you speaks, her smile fading somewhat at the words as sadness gathers in the recesses of her features.

Licie tells you, "You speak very highly of them, I hope they are proud wherever They are to know you carry Their memory so strongly. The guilds, I do not understand, we still have guilds I believed? I have not moved towards any of them, but I am vaguely aware that they exist."

Everiine stares into the fire and extends his hands. He moves them in slow, repeating motions, curling the smoke rising from the flames. The sky darkens just a bit, causing the smoke to stand out more substantially. "Once, there were five guilds of the Seren. The two oldest, the Coven of the Moon and the Sacred Grove of the Hart, were wiccans and druids devoted to the Great Moon-and-Hart, the two Great Spirits of these woods." The smoke solidifies into two groups of shapes, one dancing under the circle of the full Moon, the other under a magnificent rack of antlers. "The third, born out of the first two and tasked with guarding them, was the Lost Tribe, warriors who looked to the Great Moon-and-Hart, but also the Three Warriors." Some of the smoke figures from both groups separate and form a third, this one surrounded by wispy faces of a Jaguar, Eagle, and Wolverine. "The fourth and the fifth were the Spiritsingers, who used the music of the gods, and the Shofangi, bearing the weapons of the kephera and the training of the hives, came last." Two more groups of figures emerge, one with arms raised in song, the other sitting in quiet meditation. "These were the Seren, the Shelterfolk, the People of the First Forest."

The fire dims, then suddenly flares. A single, menacing figure of dark smoke rises, eyes glowing with deep malevolence. "And then one came out of legend, bent on destruction and revenge. He smote the sacred places of the five guilds and ruined them utterly, casting down the Seren into despair and defeat," Everiine says. The dark figure raises a blade and swipes it through the five groups, who dissolve into smoke again that drifts away into the sky. But a new group of smoky figures arise and overwhelm the evil figure, banishing it away into smoke.

Licie looks on in awe at the display, her eyes lingering on the shapes dancing under the Moon as her fingers curl tightly into fists, before passing to observe each as they follow, gazing upon the antlers and watching with quiet delight as the Three Warriors form. She continues in her silence, jumping slightly as the flames grow large and the dark legend rises from the fire, wincing as it strikes down the groups in one fell motion.

"Out of the carnage and the devastation arose three new guilds, no longer separated by ability, but by philosophy and culture," Everiine says, waving his hands and conjuring new figures out of the flames and smoke. "The first, the Listeners at the Veil, honour and revere the sacred dead, learning the wisdom of our ancestors." The first new group stands quietly around an ethereal veil, leaning in as if listening. "The second, the Allied Folk of the Wodewoses, are descended of a group of forest folk who were wiped out in a devastating war. They revere the spirit of the Land itself." The next new group rises, surrounded by strange and intelligible signs and symbols. "And the last, the Sowers of the Last Seed, are the keepers of ancient prophey, and the bearers of hope for a new future." A final group of smoke figures rises, surrounding a large seed the shimmers in the light of the flame. "These are the Seren, the Shelterfolk, the People of the First Forest."

Licie focuses upon each of the new groups as they form, her gaze growing intense as she narrows her eyes at each, nodding at the explanations.

The old bird lowers his hands, and the sky and flames resume their normal appearances; the smoky figures dissolve and drift up into the sky. "Thus we were, and thus we are," Everiine says.

Licie tells you, "They sound as if they represent different times of the Forest, the past, present, and future..... Thank you for the lesson, in truth this is the first conversation I've had since I entered the Forest, many take me to fight monsters on the Astral plane, but few actually speak to me."

Licie lowers her gaze in concentration as if thinking before rising to meet yours once more.

Licie tells you, "How do I know if I belong to a guild?"

Everiine puts his hand to the ground in front of him. "Some things can be learned from the Hunt--this is what the Hunter taught my tribe--but the greater wisdom can only be found here, in the forest, among our people. We forget that."

Everiine focuses his eyes on you and seems to stare through you. He blinks, then says, "You do not seem to bear any mark or imprint connecting you to a guild. You dance under the light of Mother Moon, but you do not call any philosophy of the woods your own."

Licie nods, blushing slightly at the words.

Licie tells you, "Is it a choice I must make soon? I have only just learned to speak again, I feel I know too little to say my philosophy one way or another."

Everiine offers you a soft smile. "It is not a choice you must ever make, though I do not recommend it. We are a communal people, and draw strength from each other. It is natural for us to gravitate to each other through our shared philosophies."

Licie opens her mouth in a quiet laugh raising herself back to her feet. She takes the few steps to the stones before kneeling and pressing her hands together in a silent prayer, bowing to press her head to the stone as she finishes, rising in a turn to face you.

Licie tells you, "This assuages many of my doubts, and comforts me. I am young, but I will remember the history of those who came before me, perhaps a listener in my future. I have offered my thanks to the Three Warriors, and I will make certain to do so again. For now I grow weary and must depart, but know that you have filled me with conviction and eagerness that I did not have before."

Licie's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Everiine puts his hand on his chest and bows his head. "May the Great Moon-and-Hart watch over you, and grant you the wisdom and discernment you seek."

Licie bows respectfully to you.

Licie leaves to the south.