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 Random excerpts.

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Black Mage Darkwizardton
Aizen's Underling

Posts Posts : 259
PowerLevel PowerLevel : 16626

PostSubject: Random excerpts.    Thu Jul 28, 2011 3:48 pm

The gently flickering shadows cast by the swaying canopy above set a sharp contrast on the loamy forest floor, the jade-coloured moss, still wet by morning dew, glimmering with the transient beams of light. The ancient coniferous trees around proudly carpeted the scene above, if one were to look through the eyes of a circling hawk; it was almost as if the trees were of a great lawn, the mightiest pines of many centuries being only tall blades of grass within the sprawling, gigantic valley. From directly above, small patches littered the great forest where a small community of humanoids might have settled down, cutting away the forest and farming. Even the largest were but specks within the whole of the picture, however, and away from the several calm rivers that swept through the rolling land, the specks became less common with a great rapidity.

Within leagues of the mountains surrounding the huge valley, no human could be seen, and no paths wove their way over the quickly-baring ground. At the very feet of these mountains, one might see a wrought gate, smooth stone carved from the rock and engraved with the stout, heavy faces of a foreign race that showed little to the outside world and dwelt within the towering giants of earth where the spirits of fire and stone continually clash to come to climactic conclusions every few decades, either ending in fire spewing from the mount as the servants of fire were pushed out, or resulting in great tremors as the earth-lords were driven to the edge of their battlefield and all their forces behind pushed about in the tumult. In either result, neither left the mountains, and the people who dwelt there were believed by some elders to be the children of these two elements' conflict, a hardy people with the ferocity of fire and a penchant for industry. Such were rumors, as many moons had passed since even the most outlying villages could report having seen one of these strange folk dotting the sparse hillsides.

Deep within the forested portions, where the trees grew but a man's shoulders apart with regularity, another people dwelt in similar obscurity. Tall, thin, and quick creatures of humanoid styling and a strangely graceful figure, the villages that had arisen too close to the deepest parts of the wood soon disappeared in a night, nothing left but the ashes of the buildings and the charred bones of the hapless villagers picked clean. The elders always spoke of these people as the sons of the forest: the long and graceful shape of the trees captured in the forest spirits' incarnation of flesh. A tale oft tossed around of the forest-folk coming to take away the woodcutter who failed to make use of all he had cut down is a common feature amongst the villages not within the realm of these creatures, and is more joking than anything. With no signs of buildings in the deepest parts of the woods, the thought that these are but spirits is lent stock to the youthful race of humans that cultivate the majority of the lands.

Within the verdant valley, life beyond the humanoids is abundant. Great herds of deer and elk can be seen wandering from pasture to pasture, grazing the grasses aside the hares and the like. The shrews, hedgehogs and mice skitter about the shelter of the trees and burrows aplenty throughout day and night, and the rivers and brooks are affluent with trout. For each of these, however, a predator also stalks the shadowy woods. Cougar, bear, wolves, falcons and hawks all exist within the valley, and even to the common insect the small songbirds and mice pose a potential threat. To the relatively obscure builders of civilization, all these animals are a source of food, pelt, sinew and many other things; some rumor that the forest spirits are able to commune with the creatures, but it has not stopped the safer villages from taking them in as pets to begin domesticating the wolves and falcons into a tool for their work.

The land is ripe with resources of wood, minerals and unknown natural treasures; the coming years will shape the world as the civilizations of the land come to contend with each other and nature's imposing presence, always threatening to wipe them away completely. In time, other threats may present themselves from the opening in the mountains deep to the south, where the men are rumored to have first crawled up from; a place where man's old enemies may be finding his footsteps towards providence.
((Just a bit of backstory; maybe we'll run some RP in here, maybe I'll just write my random stories about this world in here, I don't know.))
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Izaya Orihara
Aizen's Underling

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PowerLevel PowerLevel : 8092

PostSubject: Re: Random excerpts.    Fri Aug 05, 2011 3:13 pm

I LOVE IT. Your really good. ^^ You should get into the RP More!!

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Black Mage Darkwizardton
Aizen's Underling

Posts Posts : 259
PowerLevel PowerLevel : 16626

PostSubject: The Rains   Fri Aug 05, 2011 11:04 pm

The rains on the valley had changed much; in the last few moon cycles, seldom was the morning sky cleared of thick clouds. The primitive roads had grown muddy, and many of the traditional farms around suffered losses to their crop. The few plots that grew rice, that strange plant brought up from the outlands and oft saved for processing into paper found themselves, by necessity, grimly clearing away the rest of their ruined work and hastily planting in as much of the stuff as possible to avoid a famine in the coming winter, with providence.

All the mundane tribulations aside, one important geographical change came about to this odd change of clime. The groves deepest within the valley, located at its lowest points, began to collect the run-off from the higher areas surrounding. In but a few short weeks, the area was transformed into a bog of sorts. The grounds saturated heavily, new growth began to arise within the heavily-wooded hollow, with seemingly little account from its supposed inhabitants.

Though it was deemed mundane for these purposes, it is actually the humans' pursuit of food which contrives this auspicious detailing of an otherwise transient, unimportant fluctuation. To some of the villages without the valuable commodity of rice to make use of and the manpower to dig the necessary paddies to grow it, the plant life and need of their small communities outweighed the superstitious fear that held strong upon the human race of that deepest of woods, in which the forest spirits were said to dwell in near-physical incarnation, walking amongst the verdant grove and warding it from the probings of the hunter or the forester.

There were no few number of these villages that, at one point or another, offered their gifts to the spirits in the form of chants, burnt plants and other such rituals, but only of one will this chronicle now detail. Not because of any favoritism on the part of the chronicler, or on any random impetus, but because of all the significance to be found within that village's actions, starting with these events now described:
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Black Mage Darkwizardton
Aizen's Underling

Posts Posts : 259
PowerLevel PowerLevel : 16626

PostSubject: The Forest Spirits   Sat Aug 06, 2011 12:35 am

In the village of Yrsboldt, a small community built in the lee of a hill to the north, the fog hung heavy on the morning, the dim of a few hours past sunrise giving enough light to make the figures moving about the muddy center between the various shacks around it visible in the miasma.
Donhalm, sired by Cadrik, a lean-faced man barely of age to put brown stubble upon his long face and fill out the lanky fellow he was, sat in Lincoln green tunic of thin cloth upon the stack of logs beneath a lean-to of branches. The rolling rains seeped through the ramshackle cover, leaving his hood and shaggy brown hair beneath sticking to his head; a shiver ran through his loosely-covered frame, to the effect of several drops resting in the top of his hood falling to splash against Donhalm's brow. To that, his unfocused eyes snapped to attention, looking around the dreary court. Similarly-clad men mustered from their homes, stepping about and gathering various items at a melancholic tone of movement, their dead expressions gaunt of wear from merely striving to survive, made no easier by nature's recent attack upon the valley. Donhalm looked back down to his lap; a shaft of willow, hewn from a log several nights before, sat clutched loosely in his left hand; a carving knife of crudely wrought iron affixed to a stag-antler handle in his right, fingers painfully throbbing from the long hours spent wrapped about the implement. Setting the blade beside the half-finished arrow shaft upon the pile of logs, he stood, lifting the other arrows that sat near with him and tucking the five previously-fletched shafts into his belt, hanging by the flights in a row on his right side as he walked to join the gathering group of men near the cairn in the center of town.

As the morning progressed to near-noon, a group of five tread into the soggy thickets that grew between the closing trees on the fringe of the deep woods, clad in their Lincoln green woven tunics and carrying a reed basket apiece. Donhalm walked third in line in this procession, to his front being Aedric, a man of twice Donhalm's summers, and leading the group a lad younger than even Donhalm himself, the dirty-blonde runt son of Cadrik's brother and grandson of the elder, same as Donhalm. Unlike most boys of the village, the youth by name of Gwenlyn was raised by the women of the village. Even at the age when most boys started to aid in the hunts, Gwenlyn was kept to the forests and kitchens, and being much better suited to the task of leading the foragers to the best plants as a result.

It was no surprise that Gwenlyn found the plants they sought first. In the fog hanging over the thick woods, the shorter boy had a much better chance to look around than the taller men in tow. No words were spoken out loud, even when the plants were found. Gwenlyn simply walked to them and began to gather the usable parts in his basket, and the others followed suit. The reason for this silence was not just the stoicism of the villagers; each pair of eyes roamed the small spaces visible between the trees, looking for some flitting figure moving about on the misty grounds with supernatural silence and swiftness. With exception being made to Gwenlyn, the four men were only spending half of their attention to foraging.

Drifting softly across the marshy ground, their bare, fair feet made no noise. Suren, they communicated to each other that they had seen the humans, their whispers lost on the constant cavalcade of raindrops pattering against the canopy and ground. It was a wonder that such could be possible, given the discernible trepidation in their messages. The rains bring the foreigners in greater number to these secluded areas, in greater frequency. The leader of the silent, hidden observers laid his bow flat, standing within the veil of fog before an opening in the trees to the small clearing where the humans foraged methodically. Graceful, long fingers smoothly drew out an arrow from the bark quiver at his back, placing the notched shaft on the tabled bow and slowly moving forward to the edge of his foggy veil before raising the bow and stepping forward.

The gasp of Gwenlyn brought the attention of the human group forward, as over the robed youth sat sprawled upon the ground, basket cast aside, stood an unearthly figure. Long leaf-bladed straight-sword of black wood was pointed down at the boy's chest, daring him to rise as the gracefully-chiseled face of the creature looked upon the other dumbstruck humans. Casting around, they found themselves confronted by similar quandaries, the long-haired and eared spirits-come-alive having effectively surrounded them all in the small copse.

The pitter-patter of rain tuned away many days before, the figurative silence was then broken by the voice of the lead creature, adorned in a white-bark vest and wearing a lustrous crown of antler upon his regal brow.
"Be all of you and your kind away. Never here again."
Aedric, a man of much more time than any of the others, slowly swallowed his fear and nodded, as it was to he that this was addressed. The iridescent blue eyes of the incarnation watched him a good two minutes longer before, finally, the creatures stepped back, disappearing into the fog.

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Black Mage Darkwizardton
Aizen's Underling

Posts Posts : 259
PowerLevel PowerLevel : 16626

PostSubject: The Ripples   Sat Aug 06, 2011 12:51 am

In days to come over the valley, the rains did not cease. Humans of many villages still entered the deepest of the woods to forage, and few to none returned for a time until the parties stopped entering the area entirely. The elder of Yrsboldt passed on in this time, a man of many summers, and Aedric took up the position himself as a man considered by many to be capable, and being the eldest of the late elder's two sons, Cadrik being the other. Guiding the village well in dealing with the food shortages and trials of the dire climate, he often kept counsel with Gwenlyn, his child; a boy not so much as earthy as his father, but certainly with more capacity for his mind, if not having the years to fill it. It was to Aedric's growing anxiety the ever-present sensation of the spirits' eyes upon him, and so it was that several moons of rain passed before he gave the task to his cousin, Donhalm, to travel the lands and spread the forest spirits' message, for the hope of relieving himself the stress. Now, at this time, the village closest that was known was in an abundance of rice, a commodity which Yrsboldt needed more of. As aide to his father, Gwenlyn was told to head to this village with Donhalm on his travels and arrange it by his father's seal and several gifts of fine tools that the two villages should trade and prosper together. A test, Aedric also thought, that his son might prove himself capable in this regard and be a fit heir to what was slowly becoming a throne in the light of Aedric's steady hand in times of trouble. That he might fail, Aedric also considered, no great loss would be upon the village, for neither Donhalm nor Gwenlyn were of particular value above what was expected of their respective tutelage.

So set to commence were the ventures of the two in the middle of a damp, cold summer; to cross the entirety of the valley and all its borders to deliver a message for Donhalm, and to make a simple trade agreement for Gwenlyn, but it was farther than either had ever imagined going, and surely more than either was fully knowing how to do.
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Black Mage Darkwizardton
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PostSubject: Re: Random excerpts.    Sat Aug 06, 2011 12:55 am

(( Your thoughts are greatly appreciated at....
THIS point!))
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