At a Roadwarden camp, along the outskirts of Bendir Dale, a marshal was rather cross with those in his employ. All of the Wardens had signed on to volunteer for a shift in various locales; the northern frontier, the Dale road (Always a popular choice), the Ocean cliffs, Even the She'Kat Valley had no shortage of men on his list, something of a peculiarity. All of the posts, save one, were filled.

The Forest.

Stiffly, the middle-manager huffed at the list, and barked at his crew. "All right, we have no one on this list doing the job we contracted for. Who's going to keep the paths clean and free of wild animals? Anyone? Anyone at all? Michael, what about you?"

A light, nervous warden quaked at the mere suggestion.

"Ah. Yes. Nevermind. What about you, Jack?"

A well-mustached warden shook his head in a manner lacking the gallantry suggested by his impressive facial hair.

"Quite a surprise, thought you'd leap at the chance. Well. Isn't anyone going to volunteer?"

The collective enthusiasm suggested not.

"Usually we have no problem signing on crew for this road. Sure, there are scuffles between adventurers, but you aren't paid to get involved. What is it this time?"

Michael, quivering, raised his hand and spoke as he was addressed.

"I heard there's these... horrible creatures in the forest. Ander's work crew lost two men in a single day. Not just ... killed, but turned into beasts themselves."

"Do you mean, like werewolves?"

Now that the elephant in the room had finally been addressed, everyone was now deciding to offer their opinion on its presence.

"No, he's not telling all of it right. They weren't just creatures, but nearly invisible monster... things. Did horrible wounds to one, and the other... they never even found body"

"Invisible?"

"I heard they were demons... summoned right out of the ground!"

"No, that was last week."

"Ohhh. Wait, are you talking about the- Oh dear god. Poor Ames..."

"Yeah."

The marshal clasped his face in frustration at his crew, asking in a tone that made it clear no words were to be minced, diced, or even chopped.

"Tell me now exactly what was seen in that forest."

The crew, drawing silent, fell into a stupor. Only one detail emerged that they would collectively agree upon with some confidence.

"It was tiny. It was quick. And it was made of bones."

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

A certain unlucky bard can be passing through the forest quicker then she normally would.. clearly not wanting to stand around the "cursed woods".. it being bad luck and all she would be seen muttering to herself...

"Damned arrow happy elves killing things first before I could get any answers from the thing... ya' can't kill gas any damned way... gas headed south west I reckon... and got a nice piece of coin for imformin' those tree happy druids at least."

*she looks down at her still healing hand and shivers as she continues on*

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"It is by the holy beans of Java that thoughts acquire speed, the hands acquire shakes, the shakes become a warning, it is by Java alone that I set my mind in motion."

In the city of Cordor, the farmer's marketplace scattered amongst cries of "Monster!" No witnesses seem to step forward to recall the nature of the creature, save that it was dispatched and tossed into the water.

Yet within the southern district of the city, the Guards have paired all their patrols, moving in groups of no less than four. Everyone seems tense, frightened, as though as they were in the old days of the district.

Rumors of "Guard Killer" abound, when two cloth-draped bodies are carried into the watch tower, waiting for the medical examiner.

A bulletin is posted, that reads as follows:

"To all Citizens and Denizens of the Commonwealth of Cordor, Hear Ye:

The Cordorian Guard is offering a substantial reward for information leading to the identification and questioning of a person of interest in a recent crime.

He is a tall human with tan skin, grey eyes, and silver hair. He has a red-diamond tattoo upon his face by his eye. He was last noticed wielding an old Ducal guard sword. Anyone who can identify this man and provide information as to his whereabouts is advised to contact the nearest guardsman immediately."

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

A dark-haired tiefling hears "Reward", and her ears perk.
Gold, huh? Well. Guess'n as I could take a look-see....
sets about checking the swamps and bramble woods, the hills and Darkhold, first. Listening to gossip, and moving about the countryside.

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Aly'dra Zau'ana: Priestessish Of Eilistraee
Danika Nefzen: Druid of the Earthmother
Delia Am'Anodel: Paladin of Torm

From atop Fortress Wiltun's ramparts, Ashard cries out to the men on the walls, recalling all guards to the keep. The alarm bell is sounded. Men break furniture, large enough to form a barricade or not in the commotion, and carry the pieces of wood to the cellar doors, massing it in front of the bars as if burying an unclean corpse.

For an hour, they hold there, keeping tight lipped about the occurrence. Nerves set in, and the men become restless. When a party of adventurers arrive, the few present guards relent, letting them past the makeshift barricade, before sealing them back in, leaving them to their fate.

The commotion below is audible from even the Wiltun Market. What exactly transpired, may only be known by the survivors and those they tell.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

The elven city of Winya Ravana is beset by strange, humanoid creatures made almost entirely of bone. A host of frightening skeletons with grotesque bone wings fell upon the gates in an onslaught from south, somewhere in the forest. The best efforts of the Guardians only would hold them back at the gate, until finally, the assault is broken, and no more of the creatures appear to attack. The entire encounter had shaken the native residents of the city, and many of those who stayed in the Iron Butterfly soon made plans to travel elsewhere.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

Arch-Druidess Elana and one of her rangers, Crow, make a patrol from Oakmist Vale to the west. They make their way to the old Malarite Temple ruins and search inside to no avail. They see the trail of oddly large bones and follow it, west and north, into the Nexus falls, the carnage is recent indeed.
There, Lady Elana gives Crow his leave, and she slips off into Winya Ravana, whilst Crow heads east and south, but does not stop in the forest this time, he seems to disappear.
Where he re-appears, a startled Xaviera jumps out of her skin.

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A sun elf identifying himself as Voronwer Amakiir, Councilor of Winya Ravana travels to both Uhm and Wharftown with a message for the guards to pass to the leaders of the towns if they see fit...

"Be wary. Winya Ravana recently repelled an attack by the undead. It seems some summoners are using some strange, black ichor to create these abominations. The ichor does not take well to positive energy. Winya Ravana is near and will offer her aid to you should you become besieged as we were.

The undead have attacked Cordor, Wiltun Fortress, Kohlingen, and Winya Ravana. It is possible they will come here at some point, so I felt the need to warn you.

Any questions can be forwarded to the council of Winya Ravana."

And after passing his message to anyone there who would hear it, he would thank them for their time and quickly leave, returning to the Nexus Falls.

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Remember when I knew a boxer, baby

The Town of Bendir Dale has found itself beset as well. In this instance, by many much more large and powerful creatures in addition to a great multitude of the Skeletal hominids.

After this incident, the "Old Hag" in the forest is found meeting frequently with the strange Goblin hermit that lived north of the town.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

This was not what they had planned on.

Emilly and Salema, with the recruited Railen in tow, stopped off in Bendir on their way out on a hunt. Shortly after arriving, however, the area was beset with earthquakes and lightning storms. Emilly and Salema, at the behest of one of Bendir's officers, rounded everyone up into the Dale's walls.

It was not long after they emerged when the attack struck.

Horrid, unknown creatures fought against those gathered for the safety of the Dale. Frantic, yet surprisingly cool headed after just so few months of venturing with her friends, the Sharessin cleric dashed around healing and protecting where needed. On and on they came in waves, undead and spirits soon joining them. Caught unprepared, Salema did the best she could. Yet they held, driving back each wave with surprisingly few casualties.

It was decided to go out and find the source of these creatures, and so Salema set out with them. As they went out another wave came in. All seemed well as she healed and cast spells, then suddenly Salema felt a sharp pain on the side of her head. The next thing she knew... she was back at the Temple of Love. Confused, slightly bruised, but mostly well, she staggered up and sent out in search of what had happened.

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Whomst've'll'd'mn't I play:
Salema Nefahri :: A penny for your thots
Zrae'a'stra'fryn :: That which nightmares are made of
Khasir :: From the East a storm is coming

Zammikyra seemed to have crossed into the Dale at at fated time. No sooner had she landed a the crossroads between Bendir and the Frontier did she meet an initial charge of adventurers hurtling towards an menagerie of macabre and morbid creatures. And no sooner had she evoked Torm's name was she seen diving from the heavens upon any such abominations she might spy.

When she and the others assembled met with the eight figures she attempted to discern the nature of their congregation to no avail. Thus, she stood quietly in the background until those of Artful knowledge had finished their work, breaking the ritual. When it was done, she blessed the area as best she could with an aspergillum and prayers to the Loyal Fury, before departing with little else to say.

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Into Bendir silently and shadowed as was her usual method of travel, Anea was delighted to see Enamm. Although she was a bit surprised to see that he had called his elemental, which hovered close by. Her delight soon turned to concern as the situation was explained. The description was similar to the creatures that beset Winya.

Following Enamm into the troll area she noted the leftovers of the intruders. Soon her attention was taken over by sound. The hum of the weave as she recognized protections of all kinds being employed. Then shouts and the general conversation of voices speaking common and elven reached her. Yet beneath that was chanting, low and menacing.

Clearly she had missed the main battles yet the intruders were not done. Several robed and hooded creatures were in a circle around a crystal. Chanting. Anea understood that creepy chanting was never a good thing. A few attempted to enter the circle and were quickly chased out, some injured severely and others simply vanished. Anea herself attempted several arrow types upon different creatures and upon the crystal itself…to no avail. Nothing seemed to harm them or interrupt their chant.

So she moved herself out of the main group of concerned citizens because if these chanting creatures managed to summon something she didn’t want to be in such a large and easily targetable group. Better to stand over by the gnomes, rather with a sturdy stone column between her and the gnomes. Dak and Enamm would likely be able to figure things out and when they cast it was better to be behind something sturdy as far as Anea’s own safety was concerned. Putting her next to a human named Crow.

As those more in tune with matters involving puzzles called out their findings and Anea herself saw with her own eyes a pattern emerged. An arcane pattern. It had been awhile since her lessons with Dak regarding all things arcane that allowed her to not simply depend on her innate ability to gather weave and use it. He had taught her to be able to use scrolls and wands demanding that she understand the practicalities. She was certain that she’d given the poor gnome headaches with her unusual way of looking at things. Which she thought was only fair since he gave her headaches having to memorize all the schools and what was opposite of what, the difference between defensive and offensive, casting without speaking, somatics so she could recognize what others were in process of casting…. She stopped thinking about that since she could feel the headache coming on.

She, like many others, spoke aloud different ideas. The creatures were positioned upon symbols indicating the different arcane schools. “Cast a spell of the opposite school upon them.” Anea said aloud. She was echoed by Crow whom had apparently had the same crazy thought the same time she did. Soon there was a flurry of activity. Arcane casters were offering the opposite schools for the symbols and attempting to cast upon the creatures.

Anea attempted to use her faded ball to cast see invisibility upon the necromancy creature yet it was not nearly powerful enough. She had another opportunity using a bardic daze spell upon a different creatures. And one by one the creatures vanished. But not before a huge skeleton appeared. Those not busy getting rid of the creatures came to the fore and attacked.

Fortunately, the creatures were all vanquished and the huge skeleton was pulled back to where it had come from. Fortunately, because as far as Anea could tell, the thing was uninjured and not from lack of skill of the defenders.

Congratulations went all around and a priestess began her work to turn the area into a holy area assisted by others knowledgeable in the divine arts. Yet, Anea was still on edge. The creatures had been determined and clearly reported to something bigger. Were they connected with the events in Caraigh? Were they finished in Amia? Anea didn’t think so.

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Ari'aerath Dlues'athsha ~ Silver Singer with the Bow of the Sun
Clarette Feohn ~ Magic is Art.
Victoria Marrs ~ "I have an herb for that."

The crystal within the Skull Craig foothills, though chipped and scorched, no longer carries the strange corruption upon it as it did during the ritual. Rather, the most prominent feature that lingers is the large seal, once burning with with arcane glow, now burnt into the ground as residual soot.

The seal, as seen, that remains.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

A scene of carnage lies about the interior of the Salandran Temple Recovery wing. Some patients and visitors manage to flee, or barricade themselves within the Temple Cellar, before a 'disease' spreads throughout the ward. Horrible creatures wrought from bone and black oozing mass kill many within until they were stopped, though the surviving clergy who witnessed the occurrence are too traumatized still to speak much of it to any detail.

The horrifying scene takes some day to clean by the surviving and revived staff, but inevitably, out of exhausted necessity and the faithful follower's strained endurance, the temple resumes its normal function of treating and caring for the sick, wounded and dying.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

Elle sat on the edge of the bed beside her resting son, Vorel, inside the Salandran Temple Recovery Wing. Her shadowy scaled son was bandaged up and finally sleeping deeply getting past over his bad concussion. A human male she called Elor had brought in a kobold but a few moments before into the Temple to rest. He came over to Elle and was talking with Elle about her son when a team of nurses came rushing in with a patient who was not looking too well.
Elle looked over, taking notice of the various things wrong with the new patient, it was clear that something terrible was wrong. Elle kept a watchful eye on the sickly patient, while keeping a protective stance between her son and him, even though they were beds apart. She got a feeling deep in her bones that something terrible was about to go down. Her emerald eyes looked upon her sleeping son in worry by the time she looked back to the team of nurses working on the patient, that something terrible was beginning to unfold.
“Can you not take him elsewhere? Somewhere he cannot harm or get other patients sick?” Elle asked just keeping the panic at bay and managing her usual outward calm.
“Ma’am we have to work on this patient if you want to leave you can leave and take your son with you.” One of the nurses said to Elle, basically dismissing her.
Elle glared for a moment before going back to her son’s bedside. Her eyes looked from her son back to the other patient, where Elor now stood close by, perhaps to help, she wasn’t sure. Her eyes widened some as something else started happening, the patient’s skin looked sick, as if it was falling off.
Elle glanced back and forth before finally making her decision and poly-morphed into an umberhulk lifting Vorel from the bed, cradling him against herself. She carried him protectively in her hold towards the door to get to it she had to go past the team and the patient.
It was as if things were unfolding in slow motion while she made her way to the door. Her eyes were wide as she watched the body go deadly still, the skin looking to come to pieces, and the bones, oh how the bones were shaking as everything else on this man seemed dead. It was at that moment that Elle finally took off running, protecting her son with her life and getting far from that place.
She ran down the hallway and out the main doors and towards the dock to get on the ship where she paid her way to make it to Kohl. It was her luck that Yaston was there as the ship pulled up. She set Vorel down gently on the ship and waved off the magic to return to her usual self.
“Yaston! It’s the Sally Temple! Undead in the Recovery Room! The body of a patient went dead but the bones were shaking as I left. Go!” Elle urged him to make haste and leave.

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