eswareinmal | Log: At the Thorns

Entry tags:

Log: At the Thorns

Characters: All
Open? Yep
Where: At the edge of the Devouring Thorns
When: The 16th of Rebirth's Height
What: The heroes gather at the thorns to get a first hand look at the problem.
Warnings: None

There was a solemn sort of quiet at the edge of the thorns, the looming mass of twisted brush seemed to shift and creek as it was observed, sounding almost like the rocking of a boat at sea. Here and there a keen eye could catch a glimpse of what might have been a house, or an inn lingering in the harsh grasp. A sign post. A length of wooden board. Like the sea, it had swallowed it up, curling around it all and splintering it all into fragments almost unrecognizable. Now and then, there was a flit of motion. A small brown bird camouflaged by the thick branches, made visible only by it's head tilting this way, then the other, before it flew off.

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Once she had her foot in the door (so to speak), she stretched out her senses. Now she probed it more like an injury, gently probing the underlying structure and looking for a pattern, or a break in the pattern.

There was no clear pattern at all, everything a jumble of eddies and swirls that twisted into impossible patterns.

As she reached, however, there was the distinct feeling of something else overlapping the twisted mess of the thorns, twining around it much like a snake.

'Little bird, little bird, what do you seek?
Sneaking around, so little and meak.
Is it me you've come so far to find?
If so, step into my mouth and become mine..."

The voice was soft and airy as it filled the air around Alanna, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

She frowned, stepping back and giving herself enough room to create a shield of purple fire.

"I just want to talk," she informed the voice calmly, although her hand went to the knife on her belt.

"A guarded smile, a hidden knife, words hide such poison
Speak you then, while blades still lay sheathed,
Until the sun shines o're the horizon...."

She clenched her jaw and dropped her hand from the knife. She wasn't about to drop the shield with that black stuff swirling about her, though.

"Is it true, that there are villagers trapped or dead because of these thorns?" When dealing with unknown magical entities, it was usually wise to be straightforward and honest.

"Stand before the sea and call your boast,
the sea cares not for thy answer,
Washing over, slow and sure,
Run, er you become its dancer...'

That was either a 'yes' or a threat. She figured it was probably the former.

"Do you intend to harm anyone else?"

"A slow and steady march that echoes through the ground,
Ever forward, ever forward, until what is desired is found.
Do you stand before the waves, shouting your last breath?
A foolish waste, for what approaches is your death...."

Now there was an interesting answer. And perhaps one she could work with.

"What is it that you want?"

"Everything."

"I see."

She reached through her shield with her magic and started a fire.

There was a moment of stillness before thorns reached out and began to twine around it, seeming to draw it's energy into themselves as a soft airy laugh echoed around.

"So foolish, so foolish, to feed the fire of its own.
So eager to be taken, that such a thing you condone..."

"Interesting. Are you going to let me go?"

She walked into this conflict knowing it might end poorly. She wasn't afraid to fight.

"Will you dance more if I do?"

"I'll stop you, if that's what you're asking."

"Do you really think you can?" the voice was warm with amusement, clearly not at all taking it to be a serious threat. "With what shall you cut that which will not be severed? With what will you burn that which is forged in fire? With what will you strike that which counters all blows?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "but thanks for the riddle. It'll help."

The laugh that answered seemed to refract against the walls of brush. "Such an ordered mind, to seek patterns in that which has none..."

"It's called being human," she snapped. She would find a way to defeat this thing. She always did.

"To strive against the wind that ne're will cease,
To climb until failing, that which takes from safety,
To follow blindly on the course set upon you,
To fight against Chaos while striking at the heart of Order,
Such a work is man..."

"Are you going to let me go or not?" she snapped, running quickly out of patience.

No surprise there.

"Would it be wise for one to give amnesty to that which has threatened its existence?"

Yet at that question, the thorns began to pull away slightly, but only at the top of their circle. It's an opening, big enough for Alanna to get through, if she's willing to climb for it.

No, it isn't, Alanna thought, but she kept it to herself. If she had a chance, she was going to take it. She immediately started climbing for her escape.

The thorns shifted slightly under her weight, looking as if they wanted to grab hold of her. Instead, they began to close in on the space she had been standing before, making it suddenly much more dangerous if she were to fall.

Lucky for her, Alanna was a very strong climber. All that swords-play gave her incredible upper arm strength. She began moving faster once the thorns crept up behind her.

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thequestgiver - 2012-04-09 18:25 (UTC) - Expand

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shorterinperson - 2012-04-09 18:46 (UTC) - Expand

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