Ymiden 8th, 717
Clap. The sound rang out through misty woods but didn’t echo though Echo’ed ear listened to absolute silence in that endarkened, scorned wilderland. “There is not a thing out there,” muttered solemn words from a soft voice, almost sad. “For all I listen to them, they stray further. The Fracture beckons, but it does not reach.” The woods were quiet, but they were too quiet, as if nothing at all could be heard except for what was close to him. He could hear the wind overhead, but not far away.
This labyrinth of moon-lit woods had within its thickets a bleeding magical force. As North breathed the cool air, his nose was greeted with the indescribable scent of Ether on the wind, almost fruity yet fresh like air, but spicy and so many other qualities. Sometimes it even smelled like a rose.
”North,” called a worried voice. ”Don’t go. What if there is a Grendel? What if there never will be nor ever was a Grendel, but then we’re all Grendels? Anything can and cannot happen there in the copse of unreal real.”
Tugging a foreign apple from a branch, North looked over the Ether-soaked fruit, admiring how it glowed a soft blue light. It was so easy to spot, even in the thick brush of these woods. ”I’ll be fine,” North thought to his Familiar through that telepathic line. ”At the first sight of a monster, I’ll run. The fire and the wind will protect me, and maybe I can get the earth to budge a little. I’m confident. What’s the matter, scaredy-wolf?”
“I’m not a - I’m not a ‘scaredy-wolf’!” the creature growled.
”Relax,” North said, bringing the fruit to his lips. He almost took a bite, but then the thought it might be tainted crossed his mind, and he tossed it overhand ahead of himself in the wood, watching the blue orb soar through the trees. When nothing stirred, he began to walk, the Totem of the Wolf guiding his ears with the Echo of its fantastic hearing.
That was when he came across a blue fire, flickering in the distance. There was a campsite around, and a sleeping man. North hovered nearby, watching silently. ”I smell a trap,” North said.
”I do too. A camp site, in a fracture? Who would do such a thing?”
Reaching out with his palm, North could feel the fire. He encouraged the blue flame to bend towards him, just to prove that he could in case the situation evolved poorly. More confident, he strode forward into the camp, his shadow upon Balthazar’s tent.
Little did they know Balthazar had been stuck here for four Trials, unable to escape the Endless Woods of Silence where sound only traveled a scant few feet. The place was remarkably peaceful at least, for now...
Clap. The sound rang out through misty woods but didn’t echo though Echo’ed ear listened to absolute silence in that endarkened, scorned wilderland. “There is not a thing out there,” muttered solemn words from a soft voice, almost sad. “For all I listen to them, they stray further. The Fracture beckons, but it does not reach.” The woods were quiet, but they were too quiet, as if nothing at all could be heard except for what was close to him. He could hear the wind overhead, but not far away.
This labyrinth of moon-lit woods had within its thickets a bleeding magical force. As North breathed the cool air, his nose was greeted with the indescribable scent of Ether on the wind, almost fruity yet fresh like air, but spicy and so many other qualities. Sometimes it even smelled like a rose.
”North,” called a worried voice. ”Don’t go. What if there is a Grendel? What if there never will be nor ever was a Grendel, but then we’re all Grendels? Anything can and cannot happen there in the copse of unreal real.”
Tugging a foreign apple from a branch, North looked over the Ether-soaked fruit, admiring how it glowed a soft blue light. It was so easy to spot, even in the thick brush of these woods. ”I’ll be fine,” North thought to his Familiar through that telepathic line. ”At the first sight of a monster, I’ll run. The fire and the wind will protect me, and maybe I can get the earth to budge a little. I’m confident. What’s the matter, scaredy-wolf?”
“I’m not a - I’m not a ‘scaredy-wolf’!” the creature growled.
”Relax,” North said, bringing the fruit to his lips. He almost took a bite, but then the thought it might be tainted crossed his mind, and he tossed it overhand ahead of himself in the wood, watching the blue orb soar through the trees. When nothing stirred, he began to walk, the Totem of the Wolf guiding his ears with the Echo of its fantastic hearing.
That was when he came across a blue fire, flickering in the distance. There was a campsite around, and a sleeping man. North hovered nearby, watching silently. ”I smell a trap,” North said.
”I do too. A camp site, in a fracture? Who would do such a thing?”
Reaching out with his palm, North could feel the fire. He encouraged the blue flame to bend towards him, just to prove that he could in case the situation evolved poorly. More confident, he strode forward into the camp, his shadow upon Balthazar’s tent.
Little did they know Balthazar had been stuck here for four Trials, unable to escape the Endless Woods of Silence where sound only traveled a scant few feet. The place was remarkably peaceful at least, for now...
OOC
