2022.01.29: Vales Quest

Vale's Quest
Royan saves the valley in a Quest.
IC Date	1/29/2022.
IC Time	Sunshine.
Players	Royan, Tinlin.
Location	The forest and valley.
Prp/Tp	Vale's Quest
Spheres	Gaian.
Theme Song	Loved by the Sun

It's very early in the morning. The only people awake are crazy people who don't like sleep and birds. Mostly, birds. Tinlin is within the gazebo treehouse way up high within the ancient oak trees and down below in the valley, the ground sleepers are just stirring. There's a soft glow of a flickering candle in the gazebo, not a real one with flame, but it wisps just like one. Upon closer inspection it would look like one of those fake candles one can buy just about anywhere. So close to the real deal these days. And the best scent of all is coming from a warmed teapot, just sent to soak up its tea leaves of crisp tarte orange, and forest blackberry. There's a spot of sugar on the table and some cream, recently set out. But the best part of all is the wind up so high, that it gives updrafts for quick flight, and the trees are all set to talking in the vicinity. The ones that are awakened that is.

Now, the thing about a certain large black raven that is worthy to note, is that he does not play fair. Well, usually he does not play fair, that is. He had come by this way many times, but never quite had his eyes land on these particular oak trees and all that they entail. Today, though, he finally saw them. Or, perhaps, he knew they were there but decided not to check on them until today. He had come down quickly and silently, making quite a smooth landing upon the top of the gazebo in a manner that might cause a bit of a strange behaviour from the other birds in the area. Enough, perhaps, to cause the one under the roof drinking tea, to notice.

To notice the big, black raven now perched on the gazebo roof, waiting curiously to see if someone would notice. What did bring him down, though. Was it the birds? The woman? The strange magical flame? There would be so many reasons in this area, to bring the curious Corax down.

Tinlin listens to the rackle of birds around most likely fleeing the Raven who is now perched on her roof. She is down below, but she takes her teacup with lilypad frogs on it and moves to the outer porch to take a glance upward. "I see I 'ave a visitor this wee morning. Well, ye can't have a good breakfast sitting there up all day long. You are welcome to come down and have some crumbled bits of toast or the full spread I'm bout to lay out." She's a long haired red lass with moss colored green eyes. "I remember you I think. Came to see Skully one day and perhaps watched a mad tea party or two with our breakfast guests." She waves a hand over to beckon him in closer. "May as well come on in and I'll set a plate on fer ya."

One of the largest trees holding up the edge of the bridge at the side of the gazebo creaks. The spirit within whispers as the tree branches sway in the wind when it gusts forward with the change of seasons. It's cooler air, and even though it may not be sleeping for S0cal winter, it does indeed in this patch of forest sing for the raven. 

<<Black bird of sun and sky.... creeeaaaaak. Long have we waited for sSsssssomeone to lissssten to usssSssss....>> the trees that ARE awakened in the vicinity chorus after. It's a symphony, and its mighty beautiful in comparison to just wind. 

Tinlin doesn't notice but she does look up as the wind moves the branches differently, or so it seems. But she may be looking at other fae movements within the trees. She stares idly a moment, then goes back in to set a plate for him.

Truth be told? Tinlin would indeed recognise the Corax. He is, as a matter of fact, quite recognisable to anyone who has seen him before. First and foremost, he is large. Even for a raven, he is large. Ornithologists would call him a prime male of his species. But to the Shifters, he's simply a Corax. There are also other little markers. The reflective little tag around his right ankle. The strange misscolouration on his wing that almost looks a bit like a greyed out shard of sorts.

And then, of course, there is the fact that the bird then speaks in English even though his beak does not move, "Of course I remember you. I met you and another in the Cave of the Wolves. You were having a picnic in a tree. And we spoke for a bit. It caught my interest then." he silences, his head tilting this way and that, "Your trees speak." he says, "Did you know that?"

Tinlin tilts her head and smiles as she sets out a plate in the shape of an eight legged spider. His teacup is also a halloweenish arachnid. None of the tableware matches as they were salvaged and saved from either a thrift store, or a rummage sale on someone's lawn. His placemat is a knitted web of white stringy yarn with mixed hints of gray. "Timand's cave perhaps? It's nearby, aye." She pours him a spot of tea in the cup to dip his beak in and she also brings over toast tear it up into bite size pieces for the larger bird.

She gives him an admiring look and then quickly looks around to the bigger trees around here. "Are they? I imagine they do, every time the wind blows through. I thought to hang chimes, but then it might fade away the treesong they are singing. Perhaps you can ask them if they'd like chimes or not hung within their branches." She chuckles. "If you are inclined to share their words that tis." 

The largest tree sings in the wind, <<<Our names are the Dadenmiesstizistiezes'rrhyarvalien.>> The longest name to say ever. A group of 'us' in the mix of trees, with interwoven roots they sing of. The deepest song of earth where they drink up their well. It goes on for awhile, but they are talking to the bird, the biggest tree takes lead that is near them. <<There issssSsss one of UsssSsss in need of your help Winged One. Will you Quest for the DendritesssSssssSsssssssssss...>> Creak.

"I know of no Timand." The Corax replies. Oh, by now, he has casually walked across her Gazebo roof, to the edge of it to then just fly down to the floor. Look a bit goofy, he casually walks up to the table before he flits his wings as he jumps, to get up on the table itself. Oh, he is a big bird. Almost on par with some species of eagle. But all black, and with a more terrifying beak (ever seen an eagles beak? Silly, compared to a ravens!), "This was at the place the Wolves call Enduring Spirit." he replies to her, ever so often letting a black little eye trail over to look at her as he otherwise looks at everything else.

"Your trees are strange. They could learn the benefit of an nickname." he retorts, although if he says this to her or the trees is hard to tell. He goes quite a bit, and his response to the trees would most likely not be understood by Tinlin as spoken words, <<What troubles DendritesssSssssSsssssssssss, oh mighty Dadenmiesstizistiezes'rrhyarvalien?>> asks the corax, making full use of his total recall memory.

Tinlin tries to remember herself and pops a container open to bring out tea cakes. Hers are filled with raisins and walnuts, and dark molasses for sugary flavor. She slices his in half and sets it over on his spider plate. She does cast her deep green eyes over his larger corvid black feathers, and the one tipped in a tinge of something else. "The Caern?" Of course that must be the one cave. THE cave.

She dips her head up to hear the trees sing in the wind and closes her eyes as if she were performing a morning prayer. But truly, the young woman with the fae seeming and slightly pointed ears is listening. "I can't hear what you are hearing, my friend. Do you have a nickname?" She grins, and looks to the tree that is largest. "I call her Vale. She is the largest." She names her trees. And she points out a few others, "And the next one is Soren, and Libbit, and Grog." Crazy fae talk. 

The largest tree, now nicknamed Vale, sings to the Raven. <<There isSsss one of us far away over the cliffs to the sun's rays, sickened by earth's rocks and soil. SSssssomone sang the song of sssSsssickness and it no longer answersSss our call. It sharess not itsss rooots...It howwwwlllsss in pain. Sssomething issSsss inside it, driving into madnesssSsss.>>

"Hm? What? The Caern? Oh, no no. Not the Caern. We were never in the Caern. The Sept, though. The Sept. We were in the Sept." Yep, of course the Corax would differentiate between that, almost as if doing it just to do it. Troublesome ravens. His black wings flex outwards a bit, not stretching out fully, but just sort of flexing outwards before he lets them sleek up along his sides neatly, "No, I do not have a nickname. Not anymore. I am Swift Wing upon the High Wind and that is what I am." With that said, there are other noises leaving the bird. It sounds almost as if he was making wind and creaking noises, just like the trees are. So weird! <<You do not give much to go on, but I will try to find your lost one. I will try to save your lost one, if I can. Of this, I make a solemn vow, under the Sky. Under the Sun!>>

Now, Tinlin.. don't look to the left, where her other spidershaped plates are. Because the last time she looked there, there certainly was NOT a large black spider, about the size of a fully grown mans fist, sitting there. Eight legs, eight little eyes and a very nice black / grey fine fur all over it. If it is possible for a spider to look happy, this one looks happy.

Tinlin does hear the avian guests determination to differentiate between the Sept and the Heart. "Kin are unable to walk deep within the heart so we do not have the pleasure of sinking deep into the spirit world as you can." She taps her nose, as if to point out that the bird is spot on. Of course he is, "A pleasure tae meet you again Swift Wing upon the High Wind. How beautiful you sing the songs of the trees this mornin' as well."

The red haired kinain whatsit' fianna'ish lady spots the fuzzy spider and her eyes widen. "Now where did ye come from? From the trees above, hmm? Another visitor, is quite the surprise!" She's not afraid, but she does watch it carefully a moment. "I 'ave a jar of green beetles if you want to munch one." They are big, and in a large glass jar upon the wooden shelf inside the gazebo. Dead. Very long dead. Perhaps the spider won't be interested.

Vale listens to her chorus of trees within the forest, the younger ones providing a map for the Raven to follow to the Cursed Tree:

-Toward the sun's rays. 
Over a red barn. 
Past a dirt road 
And over the lake 
Over the cliff 
And to the frog's singing in a pond 
Up on a large hill with a scarecrow in a farm field. 
Over the edge of a mountain on a rocky cliff 
Is the Sick Tree.- 

Now, that spider would not correspond to anything that currently lives today that has more than four legs. A spider it is, yes, but no known species of spider is -that- big in body and has such a general look. This spider? It is not a normal spider. It lifts its front body up a bit, waving its mandibles in the air towards Tinlin. Almost as if waving hi? Almost? Perhaps? It does move a bit on the plate, turning this way and that, as it looks at this wonderous place that it has found itself materialising into.

Meanwhile, the large raven lets its beak open a bit, closing it with an audible clacking sound, "Am I? Or am I singing at all? Perhaps I am humming, or speaking." he silences, "I fear not all that your trees sing, are songs of good things." he lets out a kraaa sound, "I will have to fly again. I leave you in the sociable care of my trusted companion instead." And to this, the raven does the weirdest thing. He stretches out his right wing. It is long, easily overshadowing the spider, "Bob!" he introduces the creature, "Worry not. He is not venomous. I.. think." He lets out another little kra-kra-kra sound, before he leaps from the table to land on the floor. Once there, he just casually walks out before he has left the gazebo, to then finally take flight. He zooms off into the sky, quickly, and would be gone over the trees in quick succession.

	 Tinlin waves goodbye to the raven as she draws in a much smaller view within the tree tops. Tea cup in hand, and she salutes him off to wherever he is going. 

She turns to Bob, the big spider. "Well then! I've certainly had stranger guests come to tea that didn't always seem the norm. Ye are no different. So take up a place if ye like, and I'll pour you a spot, and then I'll tell you a story if ye like. About the Spiders on a Shipwreck who take over Mean Ol' Pirates. It's called... and I once sang it for a Prince, but tis called 'Spiders in the Sea!' She grins delightfully.

	 The map provided by the chorus of trees takes one on the wind as far as the last cliff face. Here is where a patch of green trees overlook the valley below like sentinels on an overwatch. They look over farmsteads, sparsely spread out. And one of them looks sick enough that the branches don't look healthy. The patch of earth down below looks like gray ash, and whatever roots mixed with fauna upon the forest floor appears wilted as if parched of water, and a green ichor drips from the bark of the tree as if the sap weren't quite the right color. 

It has one big gash on the front of the tree, about five feet up from its base where a stone shard is embedded within. It can be seen by the shorn handle, as it appears man-made but with basic tools. 

And the tree whines, as if it had a thorn stuck in its side. The wailing of the tree sounds harsh grssshh-creaks. Not the same sound the others are making. And the oddly, the other trees all around it are leaning AWAY from it, as if concerned it might be 'catching'. 

Someone has awakened the very sick tree and it wails louder as the bird approaches it. It gnarls, <<<NASssssty... fistses... squawk my bark with sSsttone and grind. YessSsss, yessssSss, watch over field and sssspill blood down the hillssSsside. Kill the fieldsss... kill the birrdddsss... ssSsssweep the mother with sssalty ssseeds of ssap.>>

<<OOC>> Common Raven says, "He would start with Omens and Signs, then use Enemy Ways."

It might actually take him some time to get here, to find this place. He might even have flown the wrong way once or twice! But in the end, he gets where he needs to go. Why? Quite simply, he loves to fly. And if he can have a reason to be in the sky for a long period of time, he will do it. So keeping himself to the sky, he finally arrives upon the sick tree down on the ground. Still high up, he takes on a slow circling holding pattern above the tree. This does not bode well, at all! He begins to look around the area, to see if he can spot any signs in the terrain. What does the Omens say? What will the Universe have to tell him?

<<OOC>> Common Raven rolls for omens and signs

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Common Raven rolls Wits + Occult vs 6 for 5 successes. 2 3 +6 +6 +9 +9 +10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============-------------> <<OOC>> Common Raven says, "Lucky. 7 dice at diff 6 usually nets me a looot less in the ways of success.

It's such a clever way to use Omens and Signs at a time like this. There's plenty to take in. Someone has clearly jammed a broken arrowhead dagger into a tree. There's pieces of it where it broke off when jammed in near the roots of the tree in smaller shards. The main weapon that spliced the bark is the instigator here. Clearly, the tree is in discomfort from it, and is the source of its belly aching and change of unslumber into awakening. It shouldn't be like this!

The tree gree'creeaks, a Darker Cursed Sentinel on the hillside watching over the farms below. <<All roots and eyes on the prizses. What they don't know...>> Can a tree laugh? This one does in the next wind blow and gust of wind. The branches sway sickly, and as they do the wrapped roots of dead vines at the base of one branch dangle where something else seems caught within. A sharp eye will see black feathers! It's holding a bird, captive, and its not moving. Is it dead?

There's no telling yet, what the broken dagger is. Bad. Good? Evil? On this side of the veil, it's difficult to tell what might have driven it into madness.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Common Raven rolls Perception + Stealth vs 6 for 4 successes. 1 1 2 3 5 +6 +9 +9 +9 10 10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

As he scans over the area for threats and ways of possible enemies, he'll notice four immediate things. There's NO other entities nearby to pose a threat. There's the dead looking vines holding a possible raven captive above on the main thicker branch, partly strangling it in a grip cage. Those vines could be threats, but they look decrepit now. There's no other vines seen in the branches above. Thirdly, the dagger in the tree is where the ichor is oozing strange colored sap, and its a good guess the sap could be dangerous as its tainted tree blood. And fourthly, if the broken dagger is spiritually causing this supernatural break in the veil here, then it might be a spirit threat if not handled properly. IT might need taking a closer look. And as an aside, if he's ever flown over Ben and Frigg's farm. Farmer Reilly's old place? That's in the valley down below with the scarecrow in the field. Cursed tree is spying on the valley below! Why wouldn't it?! Such a GOOOooooood secret for the corax to be knowing and finding out.

Oooh, the Omens here are bad. So very bad. They all point to the same thing, the Corruption of the Great Corruptor of Corruption! The Big Bad Itself! Could it be, though? Are the omens correct? Well, it certainly looks like it. There appears to be no immediate danger to the Corax himself, and being overconfident enough in his own ability to sniff out danger, he begins to descend until he lands upon the ground by the tree. Looking around, making sure there are no other eyes around, he then does the one thing he almost never ever does.

The bird shifts his form, turning from the beautiful raven that he believes he is, to a human. Growing into his form, feathers melting away for skin and then clothing. He stands then before the tree, regarding it a few moments before he lifts his right arm. Around his wrist, he has a strange metal ring, with mirror like material on it. He stares at it, shifting his gaze to peer into the Umbra to see what he can see there.

The webs and mists part ways as he peers through to the other side. Here he'll see the trees growing all around healthy looking and green. It's what it should be! Except for the cursed tree, looking like it belongs in a deep dark swamp somewhere. Hanging with it are mossy but dead vines, and the hole in the middle of the tree is gaping huge where the dagger cuts into it. In this dank, dark hole, there's a flicker of a spirit caught half in the tree, and half in the dagger. So rare indeed, to find one stuck as if the job weren't even finished properly. The broken dagger vessel's transfer seems unjust to be bound in such a way. It never completed its full mission, and the tree simply waillllss on the other side with shivering shakes.

END SPIRIT WORLD PEER.

Royan watches the tree a few moments, then looks to the dagger. Once he sees nothing that is out of the ordinary, that would throw him a curveball, he breaks the doublevision sight. He walks up to the tree, "Hold on, old boy. We'll get you healthy soon enough." he looks up to the raven, "And you hang in there, buddy. I'll get you down in a moment. Have to deal with this first." he reaches out then for the dagger in the tree, sets his foot against the trunk, and pulls hard on it to yank it out. Assuming he gets it out, he lifts it up. He then lifts his left hand, "Alright, Helios, you ol' flaming bastard. I need a loaner here, pops! Gimme a piece to melt this horrible thing!" Any attempt to summon Helios in your hand, always has to come with a coaxing.

And it works. Suddenly, there is heat. And light! A bright, round ball of a mini sun manifests in the palm of his hand. He grins widely, "There we go, pops. Owe you one!" he calls out. He then moves the dagger to push the blade into the minisun, which he now holds upside down. A thousand farenheit with the dagger held in it for enough time? Should break it after a bit.

The dagger slides out with ease because ooze was all around it with mulchy like bark and inward pulp. It heats up and hisses with the sizzle of stone melting within an inferno sun ball in the palm of Royan's hand. It's a miracle of light! The entire object disintegrates with ease, and then a thick whoozle of spirit pushes by him fast, once released from its bondage prison! It's free! Whatever it was, it doesn't stick around. An inferno sun is enough for it to want to leave, immediately. And so it does!

The tree oozes where the dagger once was. It's no longer heaving sickly sighs but grows strangely silent with relief. It's still quite sick, and holding its prisoner in bondage up on that one branch, but it's not furthering along its path into madness for now.

But it doesn't speak.

With the dagger destroyed, Royan turns around and immediately hops into the sky. As he does, he shifts effortlessly into his real form; that of the raven. He takes flight and as he barrels forward, he pierces the gauntlet and dashes into the Umbra. He trails the Bane then, waiting to see where the thing goes to nest.

A cave. Always a cave, isn't it? Not going inside, the raven finds a perch outside to watch for a little bit. He then makes a sign on the ground. Using Word Beyond, he marks the ground for any other Corax to decipher should they fly over: Warning. Bane Inside! Once done, he takes flight again.

He has a tree and a fellow Corax to deal with now and as he comes closer to the site of the tree, he once more pierces through the Gauntlet to the Realm. He does not wait, but flies up to the vine entangled Corax, <<Hello there. You seem to be in a terrible situation.>> he says conversationally, as he goes about freeing the poor bird. Does not matter wether or not the other is conscious. He will speak to it eitherway.

The raven is unconscious but once it is set free from the vined cage upon that branch, it does slowly start to awaken. But it is terribly weak, as it it went days without sustenance. The bird weakly kra kras back. It's more a chitter really. It's a very small raven and a young one. One eye pops open to look at Swift Wing, watching. But it doesn't take flight right now.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======---> Common Raven rolls Charisma + Rituals vs 7 for 5 successes. 2 +7 +8 +8 +10 +10 <-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->

With the raven free, Swift Wing upon the High Wind slowly moves the poor injured and afflicted raven to the tree. He secures it on the ground by the trees trunk, to then speak, <<Stay here. I will be back soon!>>

With that said, the bird takes flight once more. He zooms away quick, looking now to gather the materials needed for a Rite of Cleansing. If nothing else, he can just fly back to Ravenscar and get the stored materials he has there. Soon enough, though, he returns with what he needs, and with that he gets to work. The Rite of Cleansing is such a staple ritual for the Shifters and he watched the Frostbite perform it often enough. Enough to even learn it from them without them even knowing it! The Cleansing circle is drawn up, and the water and branch used as needed. Being a Corax, the raven has to get creative when it comes to mimicing a ritual usually done by wolves. In the end, though, the ritual is successful. The taint is driven out of the ailing tree and the poor afflicted bird. The area would perhaps suffer some residual taint but that would eventually bleed off and disappear with the source of it gone from the land.

Finished with the Ritual, Swift Wing upon the High Wind then goes back to nurturing the poor formerly trapped bird. He finds enough materials to make a sort of harness which he uses to carry the other bird in. He then takes flight, heading back to Ravenscar to let his Kinfolk there care for the bird, until its strength returns.