Fantasy World Creations

The thunder could be heard throughout the forest, but here in the heart of the trees, little of the heavy rains reached the ground. The treetops drank up each drop with their leaves, their branches spreading out as if to rival the clouds.

Here, in the dark forest, a deer ran. Its legs expertly bounded over each root and avoided each rock, all four hooves beating the ground in unison with each hop. But no matter how skillful its retreat, it could not escape its pursuer.

A silver flash followed at its heels, its form little more than a blur. Its clawed hands dug into the dirt as they pulled its body forward, and its feet kicked up yet more with each push. The distance between the pale figure and its prey closed steadily with each passing second.

The deer jumped left and right around the trees, and the chaser followed every movement. Other animals, squirrels and birds, scattered in their path. And then, at once, the land halted, and the trees gave way to a stream.

The deer gave one final leap, its legs reaching out as it jumped clear over the small river. Its hooves almost touched the soil on the other side. But the silver blur jumped as well, and in midair, grasped hold of its prey.

They both hit the ground at the same time. And as they did so, the pale figure bit into the deer's neck with feral abandon. The prey struggled madly, bellowing as its blood sprayed. Its throat had been torn into, and the assailant's claws ripped through its chest and stomach. After only a few seconds, it stopped moving, and the wolf feasted on its flesh.


Even with a full moon in the sky, there was no light to cast upon the pale girl. She looked up to the leaves and branches above, blotting out everything that lay beyond. To her, it was as though the forest was its own world. The treetops were her sky. Had she remained as she once was, it would never have occured to her that there was anything else to see.






The deer's blood was warm. Though her teeth were sharp, they weren't suited to such a meal. A long snout, filled with jagged teeth, could tear the meat apart and consume it in a single motion. But now, she had to rip out the meat with her claws before she could bring it to her mouth. It made for a much messier dinner, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

The deer's blank face stared impassively outwards as its meat was pulled away and devoured. After a few minutes, the hunter raised her head. Forcing energy into her legs, tired from the hunt, she stood over its corpse. From this height, it seemed much smaller. She was amazed that this amount of meat used to be enough to feed an entire pack.

A week ago, she would have brought the rest home. But her home was empty now. She had only herself to feed. She couldn't eat the entire deer, but at the same time, she couldn't preserve it. It was wasteful, but she had little choice but to leave it there. The vultures and flies would finish the job.

For a long time, she simply stared down into its frozen eyes. Its pupils were wide in the shock of its last moments. With its neck only half attached, and its ribs and innards laid bare, it only laid there with its mouth hanging open.

She had ensured her survival for another day.

It all happened so quickly, washing over him like a jet of ice cold water. His head pounded as he staggered trying to keep himself on his feet, his sight blurred from the sudden mental strain. I doubt I'll ever become accustomed to the force of these visions...nor the content...who WAS that...or what?

Uthaal staggered into a clearing through the brush. He knew from visions a few months ago that he would find what Hesp willed him to in these woods. It had been a long journey from the western village he had taken residence near at the time, but he felt it was time to move on anyways, so the sudden calling to the other side on the land did not really upset him. Judging from the visions, he arrived not a moment too soon, they were strong.

He looked up to get a bearing on his surroundings, possibly to rest and care for his mental fatigue. Din'carak peeked out of Uthaal's pack, feeling the uneasiness in his friend. It was then that they both saw her. The being from the visions, covered in blood, blankly standing over a slain deer. Almost immediately, Uthaal was seized my more, stronger visions. There was no room to think, only to see. Wolves...loneliness...old druidic magic...Awakening...friendship...death...despair...loneliness...fear...

At this moment only one word was burned into his mind. A name. As his world spun and he began to collapse, he let out an audible whisper, "Argent..."

The being was a beautiful sight. Though she was covered in blood, crimson stains soaking her clothing and blood streaming down her hands, there was an almost majestic quality to the sight that beheld the lone druid. Even the rain that threatened to wash away the stains did little to dampen the effect. More than the inherent beauty of the creature she resembled, the sight and even the ambience gave off an almost macabre splendor.

The spectators nearby had their own reactions. The snake hidden in the druid's pack hissed at the uneasiness of the situation and only grew more frightful as Uthaal collapsed unceremoniously to the ground; the fall making a deep sounding thud that was only drowned out in the rushing of the water flowing through the nearby stream. Uthaal himself, though he tried to hold on to his balance and thought, found that he could not.

The weather around them did little to lighten the effects. The rain was pouring hard, the small clearing above the stream only helped show this fact as the droplets splattered against the flowing water, each in turn creating their own smaller droplets cascading away from the impact point. As if to accentuate the point, a flash of lightning appeared above the high tree tops followed by the low rumbles of thunder.

It was a rainy night like no other, and as Uthaal's consciousness began to fade, the sights and sounds around him started to change and waiver. At this exact same time, a curious thing was happening, Argent too, felt the strange stirrings, though not as powerful or strong as the druid's. She saw, in her mind's eye, what seemed to be sorts of images or what can be better explained as emotions assaulting her mind.

QuoteI'd like both of you to roll a will save. You can also roleplay out what had just happened if you like, (if there's anything more you can say).

Her ear twitched as her head turned. She might have expected a scavenger attempting to take what remained of her well-earned meal, or perhaps even a hunter. But she didn't expect to hear her name called. Only one person in the world had ever said her name to her. There was no one else that could even know it...

She saw him, collapsed at the edge of the clearing. The voice could only have come from him. She took a hesitant step back. She had been beset by hunters before in these woods. Of all the people she had met, only one had ever cared for or about her.

...But this person...knew her name...

She sniffed the air. The man's scent wasn't very different from that of the forest's, and any discrepancies had likely been washed out by the rain. She didn't dare approach so long as he was guarded by the snake. But at the same time, she couldn't run away from this. His whisper had only barely been audible, but her keen ears left no room for doubt.

"...Argent..."

She slowly spoke the name to herself, as though reminding herself that it was hers. Then, at that moment, she clutched her head. Something...she didn't know what it was, but something was rousing her. All of these emotions...all of these feelings...

She let out a growl at an invisible assailant. These useless things were alien to her. They were exactly what she had been running away from. But at the same time, she could do nothing to stop the torrent. She didn't understand what was going on, or what was happening to her. In an instant, her calm mind had been beset by a maelstrom.

Uthaal was barely conscious, but his strength was returning. The visions he had seen were pulling together. It was this wolf-girl's, Argent's, life, part of which as a wolf, then suddenly changes after meeting a druid. The druid somehow seemed familiar, but as a druid that wasn't too surprising.

Either way, there was no confusion about what needed to be done here, the emotions shared by the visions this time were strong and clear. She needed help. Help rediscovering herself, the world, and her place in it now that these abnormal events have happened. Leaving her alone was dangerous in many ways. Serpentstaff, I understand. You have my word that I will do all I can to aid this girl.

He was able to move him body now, though was still a little weak. This was the first time the visions were ever this strong. He looked over at her and saw the internal struggle she was experiencing.

"Your name...is Argent...born a wolf...and reborn through an Awakening...I am here as a friend...here to help..." He pauses, surprised at how weak he is. "Come closer...we'll talk you through that storm you're experiencing now." With that, he sits up slowly, turning to face her. Din understands through empathy, taking a non-aggressive stance.

Argent looked up to the man, her hand still clutching her head. Her red eyes gazed forward in astonishment, and her fangs were visible as her mouth hung open. "You...know me...?" She asked slowly in a breathless voice. She hadn't had any contact with people since she left the cottage. Even before that, her only contact had been with hunters.

She slowly edged closer. She still thought of people as being something dangerous, even though he seemed like he didn't want to hurt her. She crawled forward on all fours, eventually sitting down about two arm's lengths away, just out of reaching distance. Her body was tense, ready to bolt at the slightest warning. But for the moment, she stayed still.

"...Who are you?" Her heart had calmed for the moment. But she still didn't know what had just happened. As her consciousness cleared, and she got a better look at the man, she noticed how exhausted he appeared. She could smell the sweat on his forehead. And she noted his pointed ears, a trait she hadn't yet seen on any person thus far. "...How do you know me...?"

His scent wasn't one she found familiar. It seemed to intertwine with that of the woods, but at the same time, it was a unique smell that she would have recognized if she had smelled it before. At the same time, though...it reminder her of her father's.

He looked back at her intrigued, now able to see the details, "My name is Uthaal. I am a druid on a journey, tasked by Hesp, the god I worship. Thanks to the gravity of this task, I am given...visions of what I need to do. You were in a vision, along with most of your life. I honestly only just saw it now. I have been sent to help you, and I know now that your life as of late has been nothing but confusion." He takes a pause, realizing he might be speaking too much, saying too much at once. "I'm sorry, I tend to ramble at times. It's very nice to meet you." Uthaal then holds out his hand in a friendly manner.

Argent looked down at the man's hand with a perplexed expression. What was she supposed to do with this? She slowly leaned forward, sniffing Uthaal's extended hand, but nothing came of it. She leaned back into an upright position, staring back at him. The gesture confused her, but it didn't seem important. "...You saw my life...?" She asked, further confused. She didn't know how such a thing could happen, but he seemed to know much about her. She didn't have any alternative to place her belief in.

"...Hesp..." Argent repeated slowly. It was a familiar word to her. "Miervaldis...spoke of Hesp..." It was true. Ever since he had died, she had merely been wandering the forest. But any attempts to live as she did before were futile. She couldn't go back to the way she was before, but at the same time, she had no way to move forward to. She had been awakened to purpose, and left purposeless.

She did her best to listen, but she wasn't used to carrying conversations with strangers. She spoke very slowly, as she inwardly attempted to categorize the words the man used. Her own introduction had thankfully been taken care of, it seemed. "You want to help me...?" She asked, blinking. "How...?"

Uthaal was calmly listening, ready to answer any of Argent's questions, and kind of chuckling when she didn't understand a greeting handshake. Then he heard it.

Quote"Miervaldis...spoke of Hesp..."

"Miervaldis...Miervaldis!? THAT was the old druid's name!?" Uthaal had an amazed expression on his face. So he was familiar for a reason...that elder was was still alive all this time... "I knew that old man...he actually was my teacher for a while back in my home...oh he would be sad to see our home now...well, now I understand why I was sent to help you. If you'll accept me, I would be happy to step in where my old friend left off."

Uthaal let what he said sink in before continuing, "As for how I'll help you, I would be happy to be your friend, and help you through the tough times you're facing now. Since I'm traveling the land, it's a great way to see and learn about the world from your new point of view. I guarantee, it's not nearly as lonely as you have experienced."

Uthaal simply smiled back. Inside was much more intense. He was speaking with the last person that knew his old teacher. Even if Hesp had not told him to, this is one thing he would not have traded for any amount of personal gain. He was joyful, even through the pain of just learning his teacher had passed.

Argent pulled back as Uthaal raised his voice. It came as a surprise to her, but luckily for Uthaal, she didn't take it aggressively. "You knew him...?" She didn't know what her father's life was like before she had been reborn. He hadn't spoken much of it. But she knew that he used to live with other people. That much, he had spoken of. "Then...you were his friend..."

...He had been so lonely because he had been forced to leave his friends. Over the many years, that loneliness crushed his spirit until nothing remained. She had been his salvation. No matter how much she wanted to go back to her old life, as long as she understood what she had meant to him, she could never truly wish it all away.

Her tail swished left and right, as though mirroring her indecision. "We can...be together...?" A part of her was afraid. She had never left the forest before. Even as a wolf, she had been born here, and had hunted here her whole life. She didn't know anything about the world beyond the trees.

...But at the same time...what was left for her here?

As an animal, she would have been content to simply continue a simple life here, forever. But she couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't keep being alone like this. It had only been a week, and it was already tearing her apart from the inside. With each passing moment they spent next to each other, Uthaal's scent reminded her of him more and more.

Slowly, she nodded looking up to his face. "...I would like a friend."

Quote"You knew him...?"..."Then...you were his friend..."

Uthaal nods, "Yes, I knew him...I'm sure that proud old man didn't tell you much, did he? Well, I'd be happy to talk about my point of view on him when I knew him. He certainly was a good man, I was sad to see him go."

Quote"We can...be together...?"

Uthaal nods again, happy to see his outburst had not frightened her badly, "Yes, if you're willing. I know it's frightening. I remember when I was forced to leave my home due to strange circumstances. It may not feel right at first, but believe me, it's not bad to venture out. Plus, I believe it would do you some good. There's a lot to see."

Quote"...I would like a friend."

Uthaals understanding smile widened to a joyful grin, "Argent, you already have one." At this he begins to chuckle a little. "If you'll have me."

Argent looked up at Uthaal, and even though it had only been a week, she suddenly felt as though it had been an eternity since the last time she had seen a companion. She got up onto her feet, looking over his shoulder past where he had came. She didn't know what laid beyond there, and there was no way she could have expected what she was soon to see. But as long as there was at least one familiar scent, she could follow it through anything.

"I will follow you." She said simply, affirming their partnership with a firm nod. "...You may have the deer if you want the rest of it." She told him, referring to the slain animal from before, still at her feet. "I've had my fill of it."

Uthaal relaxed with the positive response, following her actions and gazes, trying to figure out what she was thinking. All that analyzing stopped abruptly when she offered him the deer.

Quote"...You may have the deer if you want the rest of it. I've had my fill of it."

There was a slight pause as he looked over at the deer, then he burst out laughing. "I believe I've found the first thing I need to teach you, though I'm not sure you need it. Cooking your meats." With that he grins happily and gets to his feet, walking over to the deer to inspect it. Seeing there's a good amount of meat left, he turns to Argent, "How about we celebrate our new friendship over a warm meal and fire. I bet the both of us could use it."

As he's beginning to carve the deer meat, a thought occurs to him, "How long has it been since Miervaldis passed? Could we perhaps visit his grave before we leave?"

"...This is the eighth night." She replied, downcast. "...He would cook things for me, sometimes...but I never learned to do it myself." She herself felt a small amount of surprise that it really had only been eight nights. It felt like it had been forever since the last time she had eaten with anyone. Cooked meat tasted far different than raw. To be honest, she wasn't sure which she preferred - but she knew that cooked meat was something she was rarely granted. In truth, she hadn't expected to ever have cooked meat again.

"...I can take you to his grave." She had buried him herself. He had requested it when he knew that his time was near. To be buried was to be returned to the earth. As a druid, he wished for nothing more.

Uthaal sees Argent's sadness at his question when she answers. "I'm sorry, my curiosity may have gotten the better of me asking that. We'll save that for tomorrow. Tonight, we feast!" Right as he says this, he manages to light the campfire he had constructed while talking. He then takes his time to start skewering the meat and setting it over the flames. Once everything is set, he sits back and smiles over at Argent, then back at the fire.

"So while we wait, tell me about yourself. What do you enjoy about life? Or if you like, we can simply talk things out about how life will be. I'm sure you have some questions, though I'm not sure whether you're ready to ask." He chuckles a bit, in a light, disarming way.

Argent merely sat and watched as Uthaal went about his tasks. She had seen fires before, though not campfires specifically. She kept a fair distance from it, slightly farther from it than Uthaal was. She sat with her knees bent upward, and her hands between them, just like a dog would sit. Her tail laid still on the ground behind her. In the light of the fire, even in the dark forest, it was easy to see how dirty she was. She had gone eight days without a bath, and her clothes were stained almost entirely red from the hunts of each night. The fur on her tail, once a bright silver, looked more like a dark brown because of the dirt and mud soaked into it.

"There is very little that I do..." Argent replied, "Before, I would spend time by talking with Miervaldis, or gathering things for him...before that, most of my time was spent with my pack." She still remembered the time she spent before she was awakened, though most of it was fuzzy and unclear. It was almost like trying to remember a dream just after one had woken up. "...Now, when I'm not hunting, I normally just wander around...there isn't anything to do for enjoyment."

She looked up to the trees for a moment. She had seen the sky before, but only through the less dense patches of trees. She hadn't ever seen it clearly before. "I haven't seen anything outside the forest..." She said, "Miervaldis once spoke of a place on a 'mountain'...is it true that there are rocks so large that they reach many times above the treetops?"

She was only the slightest bit curious. She was afraid of the outside world far more than she was interested in it. But if she was traveling with someone else, who knew what it was like, perhaps it wouldn't be as dangerous.

Her eyes laid to rest on Uthaal's right arm, wrapped in bandages. "Is your arm injured?" She asked, unconsciously pointing her nose towards it. She had been bandaged herself before, whenever she had been wounded. But she didn't know how to do such things herself.

As Argent spoke, Uthaal simply listened curiously, knowing that just as he expected to share his experiences with her, her life had a point of view he would never know. Though the way she spoke about her life brought a pall of sorrow and fear over the conversation. He could see now that Argent's life truly was only these woods. Then, to his surprise, she asked about outside the forest, even if only a small part of it.

Quote"Miervaldis once spoke of a place on a 'mountain'...is it true that there are rocks so large that they reach many times above the treetops?"

Uthaal nodded, almost excitedly, "Yes, and not just above the trees, but reaching into the very sky itself! They're amazing pieces of nature." He looks around as he says this. "Though now that I think on it, have you ever seen the sky and clouds? This forest is quite dense, so I imagine you haven't if you've never been to the edge of the woods." He sees Argent hesitant to respond, so just continues speaking about the world. "Well it's not just mountains outside the forest. There are wide open plains that stretch on for distances 10 times that of this forest, just like a giant glade; then there's the ocean, which is an immeasurably large body of water, like an endless lake. Both of these things are beautiful beyond words. And the best part is, you will definitely get your chance to see them! And not to mention a sunset out in the open...like a giant orange jewel in the sky, sitting on the clouds and mountains." Uthaal realizes he's rambling again. "Sorry, my love for the world got the best of me. Honestly, my words don't do them justice, it's something you need to see for yourself. And I'll tell you now, it is worth seeing, and nothing to be afraid of."

Then Argent had a new interest, realizing it while Uthaal had rambled. This one, Uthaal had expected at some point, but wasn't quite sure how to describe it yet. Still, he would try, at least a little.

Quote"Is your arm injured?"

"Ah, this?" Uthaal clarified. "It isn't so much of an injury as it is a mark. It will not go away until I complete my journey. It is also why I have visions. So no worries, I am fine, and it's nothing like a disease, so you're safe. I just cover it because it occasionally disturbs passers-by." He simply smiled his usual, comforting smile, knowing he's talked enough and that he should give his friend a chance to speak again.

"I've seen small parts of it," Argent replied, "but I haven't seen the sky clearly..." She listened curiously as Uthaal began to explain so much of the world. But try as she might, it was difficult for her to really imagine what any of it would look like. It sounded amazing, but she couldn't form such images in her mind. The most wide-open space she had ever seen was a small forest clearing. She didn't even know what the horizon looked like. It was always blocked by the trees.

She looked down to Uthaal's arm inquisitively. It was difficult for her to imagine that suffering a wound would result in visions. But it wouldn't be the first thing that was difficult for her to imagine. "...Where were you going before you came here?" She asked, "You were led here by a vision, right? Where were you headed before that happened?"

Seeing Argent's curiosity during his explanations was refreshing. It's why he enjoyed telling such tales, to see others experience the same feelings he had felt when he experienced them.

"Before now, I was in a small village in the middle of one of those large plains I was talking about." Uthaal was happy that he had found someone to tell of his travels, knowing that this is probably the same feeling Miervaldis must have had. "They were suffering from a large gathering of rats. The rats were eating all of their crops, as well as spreading disease. And since rats don't make good food themselves, the people could do nothing. I came to be there because of my first vision. It was my job to teach the people why exactly the rodents had started to leave their habitat and infest the village. It turned out to be some invasive farming and clearing of land, which caused the rats' home to flood; this took quite a while to fix, and even more time to regrow. I was there for a few years."

Argent continued to listen, showing interest in the tale, although not overtly. Though her face was as stoic as ever, her tail would give her away, swishing to and fro as her ears perked up. She certainly agreed that rats weren't good for eating, as she had tried them herself on a few occasions. It reminded her of the small garden Miervaldis had once kept behind their shed. It grew only a small amount o food, but it was a farm nonetheless. He had often stated that he made it so small on purpose, in order to not disturb the forest.

She scratched behind her ear for a moment before turning back to Uthaal, asking what was perhaps a more important question. "...Where are you going now?" She asked quietly, "Where will you take me?" It was perhaps a meaningless question for her. She knew nothing of the outside world, and even if Uthaal told her an exact place, she likely wouldn't recognize it. But she asked it because it was something that she wanted to know.

As Uthaal told his tale, he couldn't help but notice how much Argent was trying to hide the excitement about it all. That, or she didn't know how to express it well yet. The tail spoke volumes for her, though. She was definitely starting to grow on him, that's for sure.

"Well, that IS a good question." Uthaal says, pausing for a moment. "I haven't really decided. You see, I came here because I was called to you, but I wasn't given any further details in the vision. How to you feel about just traveling and seeing the world? There's still a lot that even I haven't seen, and I travel quite a bit."

"...That's fine." Argent replied softly. "I have no destination of my own." She was happy if just to have a place to go. It made her feel like she had a purpose - if she looked to the future, there was something there. For over a week, she had merely been living day-to-day, unsure of what to do. She had been granted this body so that she could do more than just an animal's whims. If she did nothing but hunt and sleep, she was wasting the gift she had been given.

She looked up to the trees. She couldn't see the sky beyond the leaves, but she knew that it was late. But that was fine. She was nocturnal, though she wasn't sure if Uthaal was. "I have no belongings. I can leave whenever you are ready." She stated, "...We can visit the grave before we go."

"That good to hear. I'd like to rest for the night though. Haven't done so for a while, what with all the visions and travel." Uthaal replied, happy to see her in good spirits, even with the sudden changes. "For now, let's eat." he says as he hands Argent one of the pieces of skewered venison. He takes one for himself, and sets one down for Din. The pair begins eating it, quickly and immediately.

"So, I know this was brought on you suddenly," Uthaal starts, "but how do you like this new life? Anything you've found that you enjoy or appreciate more? I'd like to hear about you a bit more, what are your thoughts?"

Argent held the stretch of cooked meat with only slight apprehension. It was still hot, having just been removed from the fire. It had been a while since she had eaten properly cooked food. Her teeth tore through it cleanly, biting off a sizeable chunk of the crispy, steaming meat. In one way, it wasn't very satisfying. It tore far too easily, almost like paper, instead of the tough sinew and ligaments that she was used to ripping through in a dead animal. In another way, though, the taste of cooked meat was very different. It wasn't at all bad.

"...I would rather go back to the way I was." She said it quietly, in a saddened voice. The first year of her new life was the first and only happiness she had ever experienced. But since he died, her life had been an existence of sadness and loneliness.

Truthfully, she didn't think she would ever feel true happiness again.

"Back then...I was never sad, or unhappy. But now that I have emotions...lately, it seems like that's all I've felt." She admits, her tail remaining dormant across the ground. "...If I could go back to the way I was before...I wouldn't feel such things."

She remained silent for a while, taking another cautionary bite of the cooked venison. Her lonely words hung heavily in the humid air. "...But...I'm glad that I was able to save him." She added, "...Without me...he would have felt the same as I do, right now..."

"Those feelings aren't as bad as you think...no one feels well after a friend's death. I believe you will grow to cherish those feelings he has given you." Uthaal starts, having slowed his eating to listen more intently. "The truth is, I don't believe you know how great a gift you've been given. He has given you the ability to explore the world, and not have to depend on this forest alone. He has given you the ability to commune with both animals and humanoids alike, though both may be harder than how you spoke before."

Uthaal pauses to look her over and make sure he wasn't drilling it in too hard. Over-information while a being is depressed is dangerous, and even if she didn't know the name for it, Argent was certainly depressed. Not that it wasn't understandable. She had lost the only person that she knew in this new world. There is now one in this world that WOULDN'T feel loneliness in this circumstance.

"How I see it is this. Miervaldis may have awakened you on his own whim, but he treated you as a close friend. He wanted to make sure you were happy with who you are. And right now, I don't think he would want you to stop living your life to its fullest due to mourning him. The greatest thing you can do to honor his memory is to continue you living, and show him you are happy with your life now. All he's ever wanted was to make his close friends happy..." Uthaal suddenly trails off with his last statement, thinking for a moment, leaving another long silence. "And who knows, maybe some day we'll find a way to reverse the transformation, and you can choose whether to return to being a wolf, or to remain as you are." He smiles wistfully back at Argent.

Argent looked up at Uthaal, her eyes seeming to unfocus for a bit. It was difficult to tell what she was thinking behind such a gaze - her mouth merely hung slightly open as she thought long and hard about the past.

She remembered the time when she and Miervaldis had first met. Not when she was a wolf, but right after she was Awakened, when she truly saw him for the first time. Her first emotion had been this same loneliness, and crushing despair. Her entire pack had been massacred by adventurers. Her family, her friends, all dead. And that night, she cried into his arms. He had gently patted her on the head, like a loving grandfather.

"...He told me, back then..." She finished her own thoughts out loud, in a wistful voice. "...He...didn't want me to be lonely..."

If they had met one more time, right now, she knew that he would tell her those same words again.

---

The next morning held the end of the rains. The ground was still wet, illuminated by the rays of sunlight that pierced the treetops. The lonely shack in the woods had been left just as Argent remembered it. All of their meager belongings were in the exact same place, undisturbed. It was a sorry-looking structure by architectural standards. The roof barely looked like it could keep out the rain, and its size was little more than that of a house's single room. It could have passed for an especially large outhouse. But to Argent, it was once their home.

A few meters behind it, the soil was disturbed slightly. It had clearly been dug up and replaced. The fallen leaves strewn across the ground were cleared away, leaving it bare. The only marker on the area was a single stick, about half a meter long, which had been planted into the ground.

The silver girl stood there silently, looking down at it. The memory of digging the grave was still fresh in her mind. She would never forget the feeling of the wet soil on her hands as her claws parted the ground. All the while, he had been laying right beside her, his eyes closed.

It was their last stop on their way out of the forest. Argent paid her reverence wordlessly, knowing that it might be the last time she ever visited this place.

Uthaal looked around the cabin and grounds, doing everything he could to keep himself together. You old fool...there was no reason to be such a recluse...

When he came to the grave, Uthaal couldn't hide it any longer. A tear rolled down his face as he knelt down, saying a blessing. He whispered softly, his voice quivering slightly, "Goodbye, old friend...rest peacefully...I only wish I had found you sooner..." He said one final blessing then got to.his feet, wiping his eyes.

"Thank you for bringing me here...I'm ready now, let's depart."

As Uthaal finished saying his words of farewell and somber remembrance, the scenery around the two companions seemed to change and waiver. It looked as if their surroundings became akin to a painting washed out with a flood of water. As the sights twisted and the sceneries meshed into each other in seemingly random ways, the greens of the trees, the browns of the earth, and the dark hues that lay all around them began began to collide and create an almost surrealistic view. Everything around them seemed to change, except for themselves. As the landscape morphed, Uthaal and Argent kept their same solid and familiar form.

The sight was dazzling, if not a little overwhelming and unexpected. Yet even with all the strangeness that ran around the two, there was still a comforting presence that lay heavily saturated where they stood at Miervaldis' old cabin and his grave. It was a feeling of familiarity to the druid, Uthaal; it felt like a warm glow to the druid and he immediately recognized the feeling for what it was.

However, within moments the swirling and waivering stopped. The whole event lasted just a few seconds, but to the duo who stood there, it felt many times longer than that.

As the last of the strange swirling disappeared back into the void, they found themselves back where they originally were. They immediately saw the familiar shack that was Miervaldis' home. But something was different about the sight. It was morning when they left their makeshift camp from the night before, and morning still when they had arrived again at the cabin. Yet the skies were dark, and the woods glistened with the light of the full moon that watched somewhere from above them. When before it had just rained heavily, the grounds were still dry.

It was the same place, but yet it was not. For some strange reason or another, both Argent and Uthaaal felt that something was different. Not just the lack of light from the morning sun, or the suddenly dry ground, but there was an almost light and joyful feeling that lingered in the area. It felt carefree as if the troubles of the outside world was denied entrance to the place. When the two had arrived at the abandoned shack before, it felt like a sadness and sense of loss was there. But now, with all of nature around them, it felt just like home of a druid.

And then they saw it. Where once a patch of uncovered ground was located just a few meters behind the shack, instead, like the rest of the grounds around them, fallen leaves and twigs dotted the area. Where ever they were, Miervaldis' grave was gone.

"The grave..." Uthaal muttered in a whisper. Serpentstaff...what miracle have you performed? Still somewhat in a trance, he first made sure Argent was well, "Argent...you felt that as well, right? Are you alright?" She seemed confused and shaken, yet strangely relaxed. Uthaal then realized he had already experienced the presence himself, and remembered how he first reacted. He knew how awestruck the wolf-girl must be, and decided not to press her too much.

Something kept drawing him toward the shack, but he would check it again once he knew his friend had recovered.

Argent was visibly shaken. The swirling colors had been sudden in and of themselves, a once familiar scenery twisting and warping into the unknown. But more than that were the scents. Uthaal would never have understood. In that one moment, it was as though she had been assailed with every scent and smell in the forest. The morning dew and the night fog, the smell of a fresh corpse and the smell of life, all at the same time.

She stepped back as the world righted itself again. Blinking, she straightened to her feet, confirming that the world was again as it was. Except for one difference. The smell of death no longer graced the clearing.

"...The grave..." Argent spoke breathlessly, her voice coming out as a whisper. Somehow, she felt very calm. It reminded her of the way she used to feel when Miervaldis scratched her ears. She turned to Uthaal, looking for answers in his eyes. "What...happened...?"

Uthaal put his hand on her shoulder gently to steady her, as well as himself. "That...was Hesp's presence...and I believe he did something good. Before I confirm anything, I feel like we should explore the shack. There's something...different about the area. Besides the grave being gone."

The grave is gone, and Argent seems calmed by something...Either Miervaldis was welcomed to Hesp's side, or...no, it's best not to get my own hopes up...but if he were, then he would be in the shack. I must see for myself.

Uthaal started walking to the shack, still curious and wary of what just happened.

Moving to the shack, Uthaal steps over the various leaves, twigs, and other forest floor shrubbery in hopes to find out what or where they really were. The shack before the duo was just as it appeared before the strange shift where morning had turned to night, and where dryness replaced the rain and soaked grounds. The walls, the shabby roofing, and the door was just how it looked to be, but yet, something felt different.

Walking with purpose, there wasn't anything else that would have sounded alarm, even in the dim moonlit night, the place was not a foreboding one. Rather, a peaceful glow seemed to have settled upon the area. Uthaal still felt the warm presence known to every druid.

Argent followed Uthaal into the shack, not knowing what to expect. She really had no idea what was going on, so she merely followed her new friend. He at least seemed to have some idea of what was happening. With a confused look, she glanced around the interior of the hut, looking for any change or distinction. "...It looks the same as before..." She noted, looking back to the druid. It certainly felt different. But she didn't know why she would feel the way she was, right now. She had only possessed emotions for little more than a year, and she had yet to truly master them.

"I'm not sure if I'm right...but I believe Hesp has brought Miervaldis to his side, which is an honor for a druid." Uthaal turned and smiled at Argent. "Miervaldis is resting peacefully. That is why this place has become so serene. Hesp has touched this land, and now it is hallowed."

Uthaal closed his eyes and took a deep breath, still smiling a soft, peaceful smile. "It has been years since I felt this presence, but there is no way I can forget it...some day, this may become the home of many druids for worship. But for now, we should let it sit without interference." He turns to Argent again, "Is there anything you would like to keep with you from here? So you'll always remember it? I know this place means a lot to you."

This girl is certainly dear to Hesp. He then turns his thoughts to prayer. Do not worry, Serpentstaff, I will keep my eye on her and make sure she learns of the world. Without a doubt, she will teach me much as well, in her own way.

Argent didn't fully understand. But she understood that somehow, Miervaldis was content. Even if it had happened after his death, maybe, in the end, he had found true peace.

She looked around slowly. An object...? Miervaldis had many objects. But she had never had any possessions of her own. There were books strewn about, but she couldn't read. Herbs and oils were shelved, but they were of little importance. She thought, long and hard about the things they shared. But in the end, none of it mattered.

She shook her head. "Nothing." She told Uthaal quietly. "Things...were never important. The memories are enough."

Uthaal smiled back at Argent and nodded understandingly. But something about the shack still felt strange, like it was calling. He continued to wander the house, looking at all the objects strewn about, seeing how the old man had lived. He never could keep things tidy, this is just like him. He examined the herbs and oils to see what was being worked on, perhaps something useful. Likewise, he picked up a book to see what old Miervaldis had been reading, what he had been thinking, before passing. Or at least he tried to, as his hand slipped right through the book. "Gah!" He jumped back surprised, then tried again. "Argent, I think I assumed wrong...it doesn't change the result, but I don't think we're in normal time and space...this may be a vision! Look!" He waved his hand right through the book when she was looking.

Knowing now that there had to be something he needed to see here, Uthaal continued to wander the house, seeing all there was, small it may be. In the end, he ended up in the bedroom, which was quaint, but seemed cozy and welcoming. He stepped in to see what else might be laying about.

Standing in the shack, there were books, herbs, oils, plants, placed on the various tables and shelves of the cabin. The herbs and oils Miervaldis worked with were varied and had many different purposes. Most were salves meant for natural healing, or ointments to treat skin rashes. Uthaal recognized even some of the herbs meant to treat illnesses. Alone in the forest the old man still kept himself busy with many things, like any druid. You saw the door leading towards the small make-shift bedroom of the two-room shack. Even the small tables near it had various items.

Though it felt peaceful, things were definitely strange. The book Uthaal had tried to pick up earlier had become ethereal, or was it he himself who was?

As Uthaal entered the room, there was a still silence. He had seen something.

Uthaal stood breathless. What in the...well, this is the most intense vision I've ever experienced...it is a vision, right? Before continuing in, he stepped out to grab Argent.

He put his hand on her shoulder, "Now, before you walk into the room over there, I want you to remember that we are in some sort of vision or separate plane. What you see in there is going to shock you. I would say it, but I think it is best to see for yourself." With that, he walked with her, leading her to the bedroom so she can see.

Argent blinked, not sure how to take Uthaal's words. She didn't know what a 'plane' was, and she had certainly never had a vision. Hesitantly, she reached her arm out to one of the shelves, only to pass through it. It frightened her, visibly. She had never experienced anything like this.

She moved a bit closer to Uthaal. He was the only person she could touch. But he...directed her to a different room. Unsure of what to expect, she let herself be guided to whatever he had in store.

Venturing into the room, it felt as if time had stopped. There was a stillness in the air that pervaded the duo's thoughts and feelings. Everything was how it once was. To the books misplaced and strewn across the shack. To the various liquids, oils, and ointments in their own jars and cases. To the plants and herbs growing in small pots that Miervaldis kept. But what they didn't expect, was the sight that beheld them as they entered the bedroom. Two figures asleep, each in their own beds. One, an old man who slept peacefully, and a girl on a makeshift low lying mattress not a few feet away. That girl had silver hair, and a familiar set of ears that matched. It was Argent.

Uthaal keeps a hand on her shoulder, gripping slightly to support Argent. I know she's much more shaken then I could ever be over this, I have to keep her from losing it, and realize how great an opportunity this is...we both could see Miervaldis again... He continued to stare into the room with her, following her lead this time, staying silent as to not distract her.

It wasn't often that Argent saw herself. Miervaldis didn't own a mirror. The only time she had seen her reflection was on the surface of a nearby lake, and even then, it took her a while to figure out what it really was.

But this was different. It wasn't her reflection. She was standing up, so if there were a mirror here, her reflection would be standing up as well. Slowly, she moved to her image, hesitantly reaching out to it. But of course, her hand passed through it. She pulled it back, her apprehension conflicting with the calm stillness that filled the air. It was almost as though there was a voice whispering in her ear that everything would be okay.

She looked over to the other bed. She already knew who was laying there. Slowly, she walked over, looking to see his face. She wasn't sure if she even could, but she didn't want to disturb him. For someone who was as old as he was, sleep was very important. But even so...she wanted more than anything else to see him again.

Uthaal walks up next to her. "Peaceful, isn't it?" he says as he looks down at the old man sleep. So this is how Miervaldis lived...but what is the purpose behind this vision? Is it just to bring us peace? Or is there something else Hesp is trying to tell us?

"Maybe there is some way to wake them up..." Uthaal offered. "Perhaps talking to him in his sleep?" At this point, it was all guess work. Uthaal had no idea what to do, only hoping that some good could come out of it.

He started wandering the room at this point, feeling as though the wolf-girl needed her space. She'll ask if there is anything that troubles her, right?

Argent wasn't sure of what to do. She didn't really understand what was going on. She saw Miervaldis right in front of her...and she saw herself right in front of her...and on some level, she understood that none of this was "real". But she still couldn't quite grasp it all. It was like her world had turned upside-down.

All she could do was follow Uthaal's suggestion. She had spent almost five minutes just staring at the old man's face. It looked just like she remembered it. "...Father?" She asked in a small voice, beside his bed. She couldn't bring herself to speak any louder than that. The world felt so fragile that she was afraid the sound itself would cause everything to collapse.

As what was expected the old man did not respond, nor did he show any sign of Argent's presence. The state of being of the two companions was indeed a strange one. Save for the ground, and each other, they were not able to touch or affect anything else. It was as if they were ghosts or apparitions. It was then that the soft and almost warm feeling that surrounded the area became even stronger. Accompanying it was a voice.

"My children." The voice simply said. It was a warm and reverberant voice. Though it sounded as if the speaker was someone old or ancient, there was a deep strength hidden behind the sound. It reminded you of the vastness of the forests, the rolling heights of hills and mountains, and of the simple power of nature.

"Do not be alarmed or afraid. A being has trespassed against us." As if in response, and as if to show the two what his words meant, the warm feeling started dissipating. It wasn't immediate at first, rather, it felt as if the sense of support and strength started slowly ebbing away. The pace and speed gradually grew stronger and faster, and within a few more moments the presence was gone.

Miervaldis still slept as well as the other Argent who was fast asleep. Everything looked the same. But yet, like before, something was different. The light joyful feeling that had saturated the room was gone; the presence of Hesp was but a faint whisper.

[spoiler]Requesting a Wisdom check.[/spoiler]

Uthaal had staggered and frozen under the intensity of the voice, it was more familiar to him than anything else he knew. That didn't change that he was completely clueless as to what to do as the situation unfolded. Nor the longing for the comforting presence to stay as it disappeared. What did he mean by intruder...I don't understand... Snapping out of his daze, he once again checked on Argent, making sure she was not overwhelmed, nor unstable.

Uthaal grabs her shoulder in support, "Are you alright, Argent?'

[spoiler][blockquote]Wisdom Check:  1d20+3 : 11 + 3, total 14[/blockquote][/spoiler]

Argent didn't understand what was happening. She had never heard a voice that came from nowhere. Unconsciously, she backed away, moving closer to Uthaal. He was the only one who was awake. Miervaldis and her other self were still asleep. "I don't...know...what's happening..." She said softly, looking around. There was no source that the voice could have came from...it almost felt as though it had bellowed from the depths of the earth itself. The warm, peaceful feeling was gone. "'Us'...?" She asked, her ears flicking nervously.

[spoiler][blockquote]Rolled 1d20+1 : 20 + 1, total 21[/blockquote][/spoiler]

In that moment the silence of the place felt more real. Both noticed the intense quietness. There was no longer a wind that blew through, or the sounds of leaves rustling. Nor were there the occasional rustles of wood-land creatures. The old man and the other Argent still slept soundly; their breathing the only other sound that the two can hear in the area.

"I don't know either...it's all very confusing...all I know is that we have a god backing our actions...so it can't be all that bad." Uthaal was trying hard to comfort her, as well as himself. With the calm aura gone, the panic and confusion returned. He still felt relatively safe, but there was a general discomfort over not knowing what was happening.

As a test, Uthaal once more tried to feel an object. He laid his hand on the bed as a test to see whether this was still an illusion. I don't even know what to think anymore...this is all so strange.

As your hand went to the bed, for just a moment the movement your hand slowed as if it was going through thick and murky water. Your hand still passed through the object however. You were unsure if you affected the bed or the bed sheets in any way.

"Well...that was different." Uthaal turns to Argent, still very confused. "I was somewhat able to touch the bed. I have no idea why though." Could this all be turning real...? Or are we going back in time somehow? I don't even know what to think!

He starts pacing the room, testing different things, seeing if he could move them, or even touch them. If we want to get out of here, we need to figure out what Hesp wishes us to accomplish...and that means experimenting with our surroundings...

Uthaal continues to go to the various objects, pushing his hand through each of them. Like before, his hand would simply melt into the objects, only to come back out moments later. Every time he moved his hand into an object, it felt like he was pushing through a jellylike liquid. Yet, for all his efforts, none of the objects moved or even showed any hint of being affected by his actions.

He was there, that was true. And though he felt something as his hands went through the objects, he did little to affect them.

For a while, Argent merely watched, perplexed. She didn't know what kind of phenomenon would even generate such an effect in the first place. All of this was distressingly new to her. And the sudden dismissal of the calming effect wasn't helping either. She remained still for the most part, keeping close to Uthaal. But then, there was a sudden shift in her body, her posture, everything.

The reactions of an animal were quick and extreme. At first, her ear flicked once, then twice, and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly, as though she had caught wind of something. Then, in an instant, her ears flattened against her hair, her claws extended, and her fangs and teeth became visible. Her head jerked in a way that almost looked like it was painfully twisted, as she turned to look out of the open door, into the forest that lay beyond.

Nothing was there. Nothing visible. But even so, Argent's body didn't relax. Her back seemed to hunch slightly, as though she were preparing to pounce. "...Something approaches." She said in a low voice that resembled a growl. "...Run." She said simply. A single word that mercilessly pierced the silence of the hut. "...We should run."

As Argent said those words, the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees. As the moment grew longer, the two realized it was more from the strange and somber sensation that they felt, rather than an actual drop in the temperature. Though everything still seemed familiar, the sleeping Miervaldis and Argent, the glow of the moon just reaching the ground from the treetop branches, as each second comes and goes, the place they were in kept becoming something more different.

There really wasn't anything particular to point the change to, other than what was in their mind, and what each of them was feeling. A light shower of rain had started dropping, and though the two companions saw the thin droplets of water cascade down out the window, likely the duo would have never even felt the tickling sensation of the raindrops splashing against their skin.

What looked to be a dark fog started appearing in the hallway. It looked insubstantial, but the thickening of the fog kept solidifying. However, unlike what one would expect from a regular fog, the mist was dark and almost black. It kept moving closer and closer, and though it was night with only the moon to give light and illumination in the area, the two knew that whatever it was, it wasn't natural.

And they were right.

Mere moments after that, a figure appeared. It looked to be a man, but the light was dim, and as he entered the room, the mystery of the fog was solved. The darkness seemed to encircle him taking the form of the dark mists that surrounded him. It was hard to see any features of the man; the seemingly dark fog that emanated from him made him even less visible. He stood in the doorway, and though it was hard to see other features, Uthaal and Argent did see two orange glowing eyes.

Argent backed away, towards the back of the room. Too close. She didn't know what it was, and it was too close for her comfort. When she was against the far wall, the distance between it and the anomaly was still only about two meters. Her ears remained flat and her teeth bared. She let out a growl, a low, guttural sound that filled the small hut. It was a warning, a notice that it shouldn't come any further, for its own good. The wolf was already cornered, and it wasn't afraid to lash out.

And more than that, it was walking on ground that was sacred to her. She hadn't given it permission to enter her father's home. And if she had to, she would remove it by force. She didn't have to use words. A low growl was enough to get her point across - either to another animal or to any being. Her red eyes locked onto it, and her hands twitched as though they were desperately holding back her rending claws. Her entire body was on edge. And if it took one more step, she was ready to pounce.

Intruder, huh?...Something even Hesp's influence could not stop...but is this a real interference, or just another part of the vision. Uthaal stepped back toward where Argent had withdrawn, glaring down the figure, suppressing the fear from its eyes with his own desire to protect this place, the home of his two friends.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, heed my words. Leave. Now." He turned to Agrent, whispering. "By any chance, does the way this figure is, and how he acts, seem familiar...? He asks. "Either way, be prepared to defend this place"

If the figure noticed the two standing at the very back wall of the bedroom, he did not show it. The mists gathered around him, then silently, the figure took a step forward.

It stepped over the various different objects on the floor, and though the figure moved, not a single sound was heard. There was no rustling of clothing, no creaking of the wooden boards, no sign of any light breathing, there was not a single sound at all that came from the creature. Its orange eyes glowed with a sickly drive seemingly bent on whatever task it set out to do.

She leapt. The moment the shadowy figure took a single step towards her, she leapt like a human cannonball, without a moment of hesitation. It was the desperation of a cornered, threatened animal defending itself. She didn't care what it was or what it could do. Her claws went straight for its head, and her teeth went straight for its jugular artery. Her form was like a silver blur flying through the hut, clearing the distance in a flash. There was no howling or screaming - just a single, lethal motion, tempered to perfection by years in the wild.

Like a flash of silver lightning, Argent dove towards the intruder, her claws and teeth leading the way in her quick and lethal charge. But as the first of her dangerous claws struck the creature, and as her teeth was about to sink into its neck, Argent found that there was nothing substantial to clamp on to. It wasn't like any prey that she had hunted before; it wasn't solid. As she went right through the creature, she felt resistance, as if she was moving through water, though less solid, and a lot more passable. Unlike other prey which would have been killed at the spot, or even attempt to flee the moment they learned of a predator, the dark figure did not even seem to react when Argent attempted to attack.

A moment after Argent had landed, it took another step, and only then did the figure stop and pause. The creature seemed to look around, twisting its strange body back and forth, its orange eyes scanning the room. It turned its head around, and stared back at where Argent had landed. It had paused there for just a single moment, then it turned back around, heading again towards the only other room in the small two-room shack.

Uthaal was dumbfounded. It obviously didn't belong, but the creature wasn't quite part of the vision either. It had sensed Argent's attack, even if it was unaffected. It simply existed as a presence, not a being. And Uthaal was scared. Unable to do anything but watch, Uthaal instead circled around, crouching next to Argent.

"We can do nothing...nothing but watch...I'm sorry..." Then he froze. Could this be how Miervaldis had died!? Is that what we are being shown? So we know who or what perpetrated the sins?

Gathering all the mental strength he could, he spoke softly and solemnly, "Argent, if this scene looks familiar to you at all...if this relates to how Miervaldis died at all, then watch. I hate for you to live through it twice, but it could be a clue, a much needed clue..."

Argent was still growling. She couldn't understand this. She couldn't comprehend the fact that her attack hadn't worked. How could something like that be? She had torn apart countless beasts with her claws, but she had never seen anything like this ever before.

It didn't bleed. It didn't scream. She had hit, but it hadn't done anything...

Uthaal told her that all she could do was watch. But when she looked forward, what she was wasn't a shadow, or a wraith. All she was was an intruder. And it was walking towards her father.

With a feral scream, she leapt again, her claws and teeth phasing through the figure like fog. But she kept attacking - like a monster gone berserk, she kept slashing at it over and over.

She couldn't let it near him.

She couldn't let it near Miervaldis, no matter what. Even if she kept attacking until she couldn't move her arms anymore. She didn't understand anything about visions, or what was real or not real. All she understood was that this thing didn't belong here.

Darting back and forth with her claws and fangs gleaming silver from the moonlight rays streaming from the window, Argent dashed striking the weak points of the strange dark figure. But every time she thought her attacks connected, she would simply phase through the person. Her fangs would bite empty air, and her claws would rake nothing but the light resistance she felt when going through the figure. She would land harmlessly on the other side, and attack again, but every time she did so, the same result happened.

Though the intruder at first stopped and paused during the first two dashes Argent had landed, the figure once again started making its way towards the bedroom where Miervaldis and the other Argent slept. The creature was quiet and silent, it made nary a sound. The entirety of the woods was silent save for the growls that came from Argent and the light breathing coming from the deep slumber of Miervaldis and the other Argent.

The intruder raised his hand, and with his finger started forming what looked to be arcane symbols in the air. There was no chanting, and neither did his clothing make any sound what-so-ever.

Uthaal merely watched, heart-broken that nothing could be done. But he decided he would try anyways. What worse could happen than watching an old friend die... He was already on the verge of tears watching Argent's desperation. Things felt hopeless, but he truly hoped that non-physical damage could do something. He charged the figure, saying a quick cantrip to conjure flames in his hand. He thrust out his palm, hoping the flames can cause some sort of recoil. He was desperate to stop it now, lest he have to watch this horrid scene play out.

The flames gathered in energy as the druid thrust his palm out, within moments the fire shot out like a coiled snake releasing its pent up energy. Flames immediately engulfed the figure, circling around him with speed and ferocity, but if the figure showed any signs of harm, there was none. An inhuman sound echoed instead from what seemed to source from the intruder, yet the figure did not react to the fire as he continued to trace the arcane lines in the air with his surgical precision. It was as if the figure never noticed the spell that was directed at him.

But yet, where did that inhuman cry come from? If not from the intruder?

Whatever spell the figure cast, it completed. The figure then drew his robe's sleeve from his arm, and though you expected to see a inhuman or misshapen limb, the revealed arm that came out looked to be completely normal. Even as the flames circled around the intruder, the tone of the skin, the few bristles of hair as they gleamed faintly in the moonlight, and the veins of blood were apparent and visible.

In all this time the flames that Uthaal cast raged around him, no aspect from the intruder seemed to take notice, except one. As the flames bit and continued flared to life, the dark mists that encircled the man seemed to react with the ebbs and flows of the fire. Within moments, the aura that was once the mist formed into a single entity hovering right at the man's head.  It was a strange and unique sight, the dark mist that had once covered the floors were all gone, and instead became concentrated right at the man's head. But it wasn't that fact which drew the most attention, it was instead the two bulbous orange eyes that appeared from the dark mists.

And unlike everything else from this world that probably would not have noticed the two companions, the eyes stared directly into Uthaal. Sharp claws formed moments later, and before anyone could react, it leapt towards the druid, its claws leading the way.

[spoiler]Rolls/Effects/Summary:
[spoiler]
Uthaal casts Conjure Flame.
Uthaal deals 3 fire damage.
Dark mist attacks.
Dark mist's attack missed.
[/spoiler]

Status:
[spoiler]

QuoteRound 2 in progress - Still to move: Argent, Uthaal, Dark mist?

Damage Dealt
Dark mist?: 3

Spells/Abilities/Potions used since the day:
Uthaal
Conjure Flame (Level 1)

Party HP
Argent: 10/10,
Uthaal: 9/9,

[/spoiler]
[/spoiler]

By the gods, what is that!? And why a sleep spell? Is that body mind controlled or something?

Uthaal watches carefully, then freezes in shock when eyes and claws form on the gaseous creature.

The lunge surprised him, but he managed to keep a cool head. Uthaal recognized that physical attacks did nothing to the creature, this was a magic fight. After his haphazard dodge away from the mist, he stepped back from it to give some space, then released another gout of flames from his palm, using the fire that remained from the cantrip. I don't have much more in the way of damage spells left...this could get ugly...Hesp, aid me if possible!

"Argent, check on the other man and Miervaldis, I can keep this thing busy for a while. The spell cast was some sort of sleep spell, but I don't know why it was used. Be careful!"

As Uthaal ended his words of warning, he watched as the flames again encircled the target, except this time, instead of raging around the figure, it was centered at the dark mist-like creature. The flames licked in anticipation as the flames struck in all possible directions attempting to harm or injure the strange creature that they were sent upon.

Meanwhile, as the battle between the druid and mist-like creature started in fullswing, the robed figure did not seem to take any notice or heed of the fight that happened not a few feet away, or even of the mist creature that hovered about him. The figure, now more visible with the mists being concentrated elsewhere, continued to place the palm of his hand on Miervaldis' head. For some reason the old man did not stir or even wake from the physical touch. He remained deathly silent, and deathly quiet.

Some sort of light poured forth from the man's open palm. It wasn't the type of light that illuminated brightly, rather, it felt like it was the opposite. It was dark, black, and felt sinister. An impenetrable darkness had appeared just around the figure's hand spreading forth on Miervaldis' forehead where the man placed his palm on.

There was a inhuman cackle that came from the mist-like creature as it's claws managed to rake across Uthaal's chest, drawing blood in revenge for its own burns. The wounds felt sickening, as if Uthaal's very lifeforce was drained in that strike. Though there was blood, his chest felt deathly cold.

[spoiler]Rolls/Effects/Summary:
[spoiler]
Uthaal casts Conjure Flame.
Uthaal deals 5 fire damage.
Dark mist attacks.
Dark mist deals 2 slashing damage, 1 constitution damage.
[/spoiler]

Status:
[spoiler]

QuoteRound 2 in progress - Still to move: Argent, Uthaal, Dark mist?

Damage Dealt
Dark mist?: 8

Spells/Abilities/Potions used since the day:
Uthaal
Conjure Flame (Level 1)
Conjure Flame (Level 1)

Party HP
Argent: 10/10,
Uthaal: 7/9, -1 con

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Argent continued her frenzied assault. She didn't understand why her attacks weren't working, but it didn't slow her down in the slightest. Her claws were all she had. If they didn't work, nothing would. There was no point in thinking about anything else, other than ripping and tearing her prey.

Her rage seemed almost palpable as the cloaked figure laid a hand on her father. She wasn't paying attention to the fight behind her, between Uthaal and the strange creature. Instead, she merely focused her entire being into removing the man's arm from his body. All ten claws, and two rows of jagged teeth and fangs, accompanied by screams and shouts that she herself couldn't hear. In her inhuman rage, the sound of even her own voice was lost on her.

Though Argent slashed and attacked over and over, her claws did nothing as the figure continued on with what he was doing. The figure's hand was still on Meirvaldis' head as it throbbed with the same black light or energy that seemed to flow from the man's hand into Miervaldis. Miervaldis still did not move. As always he was still and quiet. Slowly and surely the dark light that came off from the figure's open palm diminished, little by little the darkness dimmed, until finally there was nothing except for the figure's palm on the old druid's head. The figure smiled wryly to himself as he took his hand off from the druid. He was done.

There was a deathly chill that crawled along the duo's backs. Miervaldis still looked the same, at peace and quiet, but something about him looked off. Other than the battle engaged between the mist-like creature and Uthaal, only a few other sounds were heard. It didn't take long for both Uthaal and Argent realize that there was only one set of light breathing left where there once was two. All they heard were the quiet sighs of the sleeping Argent.

The figure stepped back as it considered the sleeping Argent. He stared at the sleeping form for just a moment later until he turned and started on his way out. Though he wore a hood, the two could see him smiling, he stepped out of the first door; the bedroom door, unknowingly walking into both the mist-like creature and Uthaal as he passed right through them. He spoke a few words in a hushed tone.

Gin cerith muath un minne.

[spoiler]Rolls/Effects/Summary:
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Argent attacks.
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Status:
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QuoteRound 3 in progress - Still to move: Argent, Uthaal, Dark mist?

Damage Dealt
Dark mist?: 8

Spells/Abilities/Potions used since the day:
Uthaal
Conjure Flame (Level 1)
Conjure Flame (Level 1)

Party HP
Argent: 10/10,
Uthaal: 7/9, -1 con

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The cold, draining feeling from the wound alarmed Uthaal. This feeling...this creature is either demonic or undead...I'm not prepared for either! Well, at this point, I have nothing to lose!

Uthaal takes a large risk and dives forward, knowing that divine energy harms the undead. It was a small chance, but he had multiple cure spells that could work if it ended up damaging the creature.

If this doesn't work, I have no idea what will!

[spoiler]I attempt to cure 1 damage on the mist. If it is undead, it instead takes 1 damage.[/spoiler]

QuoteGin cerith muath un minne.

"'Gin cerith muath un minne'!?" Uthal exclaims in surprise. What lord!? Gods, what is going on...wait, rise? To gain either life, or quickly rise in power you would need...NO! He quickly looks to Miervaldis, seeing an unnatural stillness. I takes everything he has to not burst into tears. So this is how you died, old friend...it is too cruel for words, considering what you had done while living. Why you!? Who is this "lord"!?

His frustration and anger turn to the mist, desperate to kill it or force it to flee so he can focus on the vision.

Argent stopped. Completely stopped - her claws, her arms, her teeth, even her breathing. She could tell immediately - she witnessed the exact moment at which his life had been taken.

She wasn't listening. She didn't hear the man's words, or Uthaal's fight. As the cloaked man drew his hand away from her father's head, her legs gave out. She sunk to her knees, staring wide-eyed at the bed in which Miervaldis was no longer breathing.

The mysterious figure walked right through her as it made its exit. She didn't pursue. There was no point in pursuing. She had already lost her father once. In her mind, she had thought that she had a second chance to protect him. But there was no such thing from the beginning. He slipped away right before her eyes, all over again.

She didn't understand anything. Why was she seeing herself, and Miervaldis again? Why was she seeing him die again? Why did she have to see these things?

Her arms hung like dolls at her side, as her claws retracted. She reached out with a trembling, pale hand at her father's still body. But it didn't reach him. She already understood. The arm fell again, along with her head. The vision of the floor that her eyes took in didn't reach her consciousness. She merely fell to her hands and knees, in silence.

...He was gone, again.

As the figure started moving back, Uthaal had launched into spellcasting, and though his glowing hands made contact with the mist-like creature, there was no evident pain or destruction that occurred. Moments turned into seconds, and slowly the figure walked away.

A curious thing happened. As the killer moved further away from the duo, the mist-like creature followed. Not seemingly by will but the druid noticed as the distance between he and the figure grew distant, the mist-like creature continued to thin, and grow weaker. Suddenly it came to the point that the distance was too great. Its eyes glowing a fierce orange, it screamed inhumanly as its claws reached out for the druid hoping to further injure or kill the elf, only to have its sharp claws just barely reach Uthaal.

It retreated back to the vicinity of the figure who was by now moving out of the lonesome shack in the woods. It coiled itself around the man, and once again, like how Uthaal and Argent had seen it, the figure was shrouded in darkness. The orange eyes glowed for just a moment longer as it stared hatefully at the druid. But even those winked out as did its claws when it faded into the same dark mist that had circled around the figure.

The drizzle of rain outside had intensified since then, and as the adrenaline started fading away, the sounds of the heavy splashing of water became apparent to both Uthaal and Argent. The glow of the moon shone lazily on Miervaldis' features. It looked as if the man was still simply asleep. Though, the lack of the slow rise and fall of his breathing told the duo otherwise.

Uthaal fell to his knees. We're saved...but gods, we've failed...

As he watched the final traces of the creature fade out of existence, he was able to once again pay attention to himself and his surroundings, knowing that they were at least safe. He could hear the rain falling outside, and after a while began to shiver, unsure if it was the cold, or the pall of failure that hung within the room.

He's dead...again... Uthaal turned to look back at the bed, seeing the old man laying in his bed. I fear what they might have done to him...he didn't deserve this. Then he saw Argent, in the same position as Uthaal himself. Gods, she didn't deserve this either, it was too much. Why was this necessary!? Why put her through the exact same pain, where her actions were futile in preventing the death of her father...it's too cruel.

Uthaal the did something completely out of the ordinary. He wailed, crying out in sorrow and frustration, pain evident in every moment. Then, slowly, the sorrow began to turn to anger, and his numbness faded.

The words...that man spoke in druidic, and said something strange. If his 'lord' is to rise, that means he is currently without the power he needs, or possibly sealed. For now, that is good. He also stated it in a way that made clear there were more than just him. This is a group, possibly large, with tainted powers offered by this 'lord'. Something dangerous is happening, and somehow, Miervaldis and Argent are involved...and now I am as well. They will regret bringing this to my attention. I will return all of this pain to them TENFOLD!

Though still in turmoil over what has occurred, Uthaal finally has the willpower and motivation to stand. This event, this whole dangerous scenario, must be what Hesp wished him to prevent. Without a doubt, these goings-on were an abomination of the natural world; what just happened before was not normal, and certainly evil.

Uthaal walked over to Argent, and knelt down beside her, as he knew such a shock to her new emotions must be incredibly painful. He put a hand on her shoulder to at least ward off the feeling of loneliness, giving some comfort. It was all he could do, for now.

The deathly silence continued to hang in the room as Uthaal, and Argent, tried to recover from their loss.

As the silence lingered, the moments passing by like a still wind blowing slowly through the trees, the duo felt the same warm presence as before.

"My children." It echoed, from either their minds, or from somewhere in the area, it was hard to tell, but they knew that both of them heard the voice clearly. "Death is as part of the balance of energy and nature as is life. But the act which you have just borne witness to is far from natural. Miervaldis still had decades left in him, but more importantly is the shift in the natural balance." As if on cue, the air started shimmering, and moments later a figure of a human appeared. He was old and weathered, though it was hard to tell precisely how old the man was. He wore a brown robe hooded with a cowl, and in his hand he held a staff. The old man looked Uthaal particularly closely.

"Touch the staff when you are ready. He said to both of them.