In Avistra, the Trees Bleed

[DISCOLIQUID 2702]

 

Avistra,

 

The pastoral paradise outside the capital of the Empire, grows dark as the influence of hatred spreads ever further. Rumours abound, whispers spared off the tongues of merchants, mercenaries, and men-at-arms. Those who traverse those rolling hills, those golden fields of wheat, bid down from the Northern river & who seek rest at the doorstep of the Empire. They pass hushed concerns from mouth to mouth, cupped hands around susurrous gossip, and down the long road these dark remarks reach farther than the muddied tracks of wagons. These hand-me-down tall-tales slink over cobbled streets, collect in glum taverns, and into the ears of Holy Men. Tidings of gloaming ire & its five-fingered shadow closing tight around Avistra, taking advantage of their naivete, their simple minds.

 

“They let some skinwalker work their tavern.”

 

“Their tree is cursed! The cider from its apples drive men insane!”

 

“I hear goats bleating, but can never find any in their farms…”

 

“Scarecrows move around in the fields at night.”

 

“One of their soldiers now has the head of a frog!”

 

“Their very tavern is closed off. I hear something evil still lives in the basement…”

 

And as that peaceful town does sit in the looming eye of the Empire, in the purple shade of Burgundy’s safe walls, the beating heart of Mankind is still marred by the dark scenery available to all who pass towards its center. Where once a stout apple tree grew, ripe with ruby apples, kissed by the seasons & grown wise with time, now twists something darker. Those who give pause find their horses uneasy. Travellers shut the open windows of their carriages, waiting for the safety of the capitol gates. Men on foot double their pace, or wait until the light of day blesses Avistra with a fleeting sense of safety. The foolish who lurk the charred bark of that infernal tree dwell for only a moment before it whispers, and gnashes barky teeth. 

 

In Avistra, the trees bleed.

 

 

Spoiler

 

@_FirBranch_ @Plausifraunz @BaconAvengerII@Nomine

I want to thank you all for the RP I found as your super suspicious, creepy bartender. I had a lot of plans, and I hope that as they panned out, you all found a good bit of RP in Avistra as the result. I hear you guys are cutting down the tree soon, so I wanted to give you this forum post to commemorate our story coming to a satisfying end. 

 

[Nomine 35]

The twisting form of the tree that once bore supple fruit and lush leaves, yet now clawed at the sky in defiance of God's Will, would not stand alone. Beneath its boughs, however gnarled and misshapen, a few figures would pay it daily visits and humble tending of the ground beneath. Now wreathed in scattered apple blossoms and pristine white candles, prayers were uttered unto its behalf, for its gapping mouths could form no righteous syllables of their own. In forefront there poised was a maiden of scarlet hair, red as the apples the tree once offered, red as the roses which still bloomed in the gardens, red as the blood which so often spilled the soil. She beheld her namesake, Erelith 'of the Apple Tree', this apple tree, the place she'd come to take great solace in the ever changing tides of the Empire's ebb and flow, a humble place where a beloved pet had once been buried and blessedly was once more part of the earth, unable to be similarly warped.

 

"Omne vas quod fictum est contra te non dirigetur et omnem linguam resistentem tibi in iudicio iudicabis haec hereditas servorum Domini et iustitia eorum apud me dicit Dominus."

 

It was not sentiment which now drove her to seek answers, for even a soft heart could be pragmatic, nor was it vengeance, for she simply lacked that capacity. It was determination and defiance, not of her Imperial mistresses or the will of the Crown, for she had blessing enough to pursue the true purpose laid before her with the blight. To learn more of The Dark and not just dismiss it with a simple fix, no to deny it satisfaction entirely where possible, and so were those more wise and knowledgeable consulted, tomes poured over and precious scraps of information long kept from untainted descendants by the covetous claws of the afflicted plucked from their very talons. Would the fate of the tree be ultimately sealed with its removal by her own hand? Perhaps, though this was indeed the final peace she could offer the wretched arbor once all other options were exhausted, but her hands would not remain empty once all was said and done...

 

"Every good deed will be a spear-thrust to my Enemy; every chance to practice Virtue or vice like a skirmish with Ibless..."

[BaconAvengerII 117]

The Ir woman had spent a time in mourning over the loss of her friend.

The discovery that his flirtations were a means to get her alone on a beach.

Perhaps, then, she would be the injured, the wounded, and the cursed.

Perhaps, she would have ended up missing, or worse.

 

The letter written by the '''man''', in spite of his kind words, didn't mention her at all.

Not a name, or a reference.

 

Nothing...

Surely, that was her value to him.

 

A bitterness consumed her for weeks after the events in Avistra.

Now, what consumed her was a singular target.

A singular focus.

 

One man-shaped-thing wasn't about to disappear quietly into the night.

No.

 

Medicae heal people.

The Church redeems the lost.

The Shamans seek answers from the Spirits.

 

Mae wasn't any of those things.

She wasn't going to heal, redeem, or seek answers.

 

All she wanted from her former friend, anymore, was his head, on a pike, set alight, and the ashes falling as autumn leaves into a cesspool.

[Plausifraunz 375]

The Lady-Margrave of Avistra stood before the twisting roots of the rotting flora, shame wrapped in her expression. She did not want the walls to be built before her peoples fields of wheat. Yet Darkspawn had struck her twice in a year. She laid bedridden for months, despite her wish against the very idea of rest. And her Husband and Margrave in equal would not stand for injustice. She did not want her people to fear the roads. Yet they grew weary at the raids that stole her children and people from her. 

 

The apple tree was an astonishing piece she left untouched, at Erelith’s request, upon receiving Avistra’s land. Now it stood barren, looming over her people. A threat. And threats must be plucked before they fester. 

 

Arya stood before the rotting tree, not afraid, but upset it had come to this. Not only had she lost someone she trusted, she felt as though she failed in her promise to protect part of her village, and now she might need to uproot it and too break that promise with Erelith.

 

“Lo’, heavenly father. How have I earned your ire? Is this punishment? Must I repent?”

 

Arya interlocked her hands, pressing them to her forehead in prayer. Silence washed over her, before she’s ushered back into the manor to try and rest. An impossible task. Her head hung low at the fireplace, reflecting.

 

Spoiler

THANK YOU FOR THE RP. I know I've been super busy but I loved the narrative and it's awesome. I'm glad we could provide a good rp for both you and us in equal parts. Thank you Disco!!!!! ❤️

 

[Digit___ 1226]

An armored man, bearing a head crowned with long, flame-hued hair, stood among the markets and taverns neighboring Avistra; listening to the people gossip about the scourge that has befallen that peaceable village.

“Interesting…” Aviel Roy silently murmured to himself, brandishing a small notebook and a thin stalk of charcoal wrapped in a blue and yellow-stripped cloth to write all he heard. He had been given a task after all, and he will see that all information related to the dark forces shrouding the village were documented and, eventually, exorcized in the Name of God.

[_FirBranch_ 20]

A young man sits a-top the western gate of Avistra, watching the now cursed apple tree. One leg crossed over the other, he unloads, and reloads a bolt into his crossbow, over and over again, practicing with the new metallic hand he had, dark long curls framing his face as he looks down. The past few years had been rough on Avistra, and he could not help but feel like he had caused it despite the comforting words of those who had taken him and called him kin. He had extended friendship to the wrong face, and his genuineness was taken advantage of. He felt angered. 

But anger could not help anything. The enemy would take advantage of anger. His mind goes to trying listing more practical things to do instead of growing bitter, getting aurum bolts, maybe dipping all his current iron ones in auric oil, he could join his father in another darkspawn hunt, that would put him closer to his goals, multiple of them.

He would not allow ROT to corrupt his heart, to turn him hard against the suffering of the world, even if one whom he considered a friend, hurt his family, had taken his body from him, othered him, turned his mind against himself. It was not enough to just fight the DARK, one had to spread the light too. One like Eddy couldn't understand. While he wanted vengeance, things needed to be set right in other ways first.

He slips off the gate, speaking to himself, "I should go help Ser Meili with dinner enstead... He es not coming back tonight." 

Elephants can trample the grass, but alas, Kepha could only call himself a ever-growing, stubborn, weed. 

 

Spoiler

HUGE thanks for roleplay and bringing together this little storyline! You were a delight to write with from start to finish, and I'm excited to see what Catcher will get up to in the future. I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I personally did. I hope we can do more rp, even if a different variety in the future! <3