Chapter 2 - Moon and Star

[Vardaen]

Macalanios is alone, there are no serpents or insects or others near. He listens for sounds of someone fleeing but heard nothing but the wind in the trees. When the pain fades there is an empty ache in Macalanios soul. The realization that the pain was mystical in nature. The 'bite' spot is not bleeding or physically hurt in anyway, but a lonely painful feeling sets in to the Sylvanhel. It is a cry for help, a cry that the Warden is sympathic to and so he has turned it into the pain he's just felt.

A whisper on the wind that blows through the trees is heard, They trespass...they hurt me... Then the voice is gone. It was barely audible, but familiar, like a voice out of the distant past, a friendly voice but on the edge of a knife that is threating to fall into darkness.

Without realizing it Macalanios is looking south, toward Parth Ernil, and the source of the strange feeling.

[Orgon]

The old druid starts as the experience fades. <Anhel> "Could it be . . ." he says in a quite voice, "our god? Is our god alive?"<Anhel> The elf looks up through the eyes of the skull to the moon in a moment of wonderment.

Just as suddenly, however, he says <Anhel>"Be prepared, Faedeshell. Even though it is a cold night, we must go to Parth Enil right away."<Anhel> The elf packs up whatever he has unpacked, kicks some snow on the remains of his fire, and begins heading in the direction of Parth Enil with all possible haste.

[Vardaen]

The old druid wonders who or what it is, a god perhaps, perhaps something else. Certainly it is something old and ancient, and attuned to the ways of the Slyvanhel.

Kicking snow over the fire, and packing his few things Macalanios heads out into the night air. Without the fire the cold air nearly slaps the elf in the face. The winter is long and cold, but the Sylvanhel have learned to adapt to it, and lesser beings would suffer greatly tonight.

The owl swoops down onto his master's staff head, turning its head and blinking with its large eyes a few times saying nothing. The pair trudge off to the south traveling parallel to the trail of the Frostlings which seem to head the same way -- directly to Parth Ernil.

OOC

I have to make sure the threads all match up at the same time, so I might be posting slightly slower to have that happen right but that doesn't mean we won't be posting here.

[Orgon]

Macalanios pulls his fox-fur coat tightly about him, nods with resolve his his friend, and follows the (rather obvious) trail of the Frostlings. A divine power of some sort was in pain at Parth Enil, and even if it meant his own death, the old druid knew he had to do something about it.

[Vardaen]

Macalanios pulls his cloak tighter and starts off after the Frostling trail. It is easy to follow, the trudging of so many feet over the snow is not hard to follow. The Frostling were not trying to hide themselves, not with a force that large. Many tree branches are broken, and some small saplings are chopped down seemingly at random and out of spite as some are many feet from the trail's edge even.

The Sylvanhel and Owl make good tight, light of foot, they move for a few hours south along the trail encountering no troubles for the most part. That is until Macalanios comes to a steep ridge line. Standinga the top of the ridge, looking down, the Anhel can see that the goblins and other creatuers sort of bowled themselves down the fourty foot fall to the snowy rocks below. Laying in the shadow of the moon at the base of the cliff are two dead bodies, Snow Goblins. The beasts clearly failed to make the climb correctly, and paid with their lives for their mistakes.

There is no telling how far the ridge continues in either directions, but pine forest, and deep snow blocks travel in both directions.

[Orgon]

Macalanios knows he is too old to climb down such a steep cliff. But he does have other methods at his disposal.

Raising his hands to the sky, the druid chants, <Anhel>"Holy Moon, send me a hippogriff. I ask this through the memory of your husband, Sucellus."<Anhel>

With the spell completed, he awaits the arrival of the animal, which he intends to ride down to the bottom of the ridge.

Action

Lose detect thoughts to cast summon nature's ally II for a Hippogriff.

[Vardaen]

High in the sky the clouds part, and from them comes swooping down a sleak and slender Hippogriff, the part horse, part griffon lands lightly on the ground and lowers its head. Tucking its wings to the side, it allows the Anhel to mount it snorting its hot breath into the cold air sending up ghostly clouds of steam back into the sky.

[Orgon]

Macalanios mounts the creature as quickly as he can manage, knowing that the hippogriff will soon be recalled by the gods to whence it came.

Once he is on it, he directs it to fly down the cliff and deposit him at the bottom, using his heels to steer it like a normal horse.

[Vardaen]

The Warden mounts the flying creature and swoops down to the bottom of the cliff with ease. The creature kneels allowing the Sylvanhel to dismount easily. The owl takes to the air and continues to glide out over the night sky above the tree tops of the trees below circling down on silent wings some distance ahead of his master.

[Orgon]

After dismounting from the summoned creature, Macalanios pets its nose and says <Anhel>"Thank you. my friend."<Anhel>

He remains with the creature until the magic that brought it to him ends, then continues along the path of destruction created by the Frostling army.