DistantCryprid

Deep into the eternal forest, in the frigid bioluminescence of the third's domain, a child of ivory hair awaits...

Oh i like this idea! i've played with blockbench a few times myself, and the amount of creativity and overall freedom that it allows one to express is such a breath of fresh air. +1

Out of the ever-verdant canopy, emerged a pale elf with strange proportions whose hair seemed to ebb and flow int0 the aurora, drawn by the stir of a new soul joining the many others in the forest... "Welcome home, sister." Uttered the Boreal druid with solenm warmth, welcoming the newly-passed druid with open arms.

You know it's a good post when you gotta take a tab of adderall to read it.

Within the woodlands, below the canopy and against the tree branches, a small 'ame saw the wave of gold through the skies. They did not fully grasp what the meaning of it was, never faced with battle or true fear. They had yet to witness all, they did not understand the man-made horror that was war. Therefore they did not fear it.

The Bow Klaus took in a breath, the very last shaving of wood had reached the ground. They were finished, their weapon was made, now all that was left was to varnish it and wait, once that was done they moved forth, taking the silk that they had previously braided and stringing the bow, now it was all done, they were finished. As soon as the bow was strung, Klaus took the broom that rested against their wall and began sweeping their floor, making a medium-sized pile of sawdust and wood chip pile. Slinging their bow over their shoulder. They take a burlap sack and join the new fertilizer with the old one, they throw the sack over their back, giving their family portrait a fond look before they head outside, locking the door behind them. They walk down the path and empty the contents into a composter, humming a merry tune to themselves, the dust from what was once a tree would join clippings of many others to bring new life once processed. Further down they watch their kin by the fire, they wave goodbye to the group and march out of the Vale’s walls. They then reached the port, hopping on a boat to head up north. Away from home and into the cold. Klaus felt the air nip at their exposed skin, that was now not much more than their head, they pulled their coat more tightly around their shoulders, the quiver and bow shifting with the motion, yet once their boat trip came to an end they took to the tundra. The snow was bright for them, their glasses and breath fogging with the shift in warmth. The traps and Tracks Soon the short elf managed to breach from the tundra down to the taiga, along their way they would set down small snare traps, for rabbits and the unlucky fox that would cross paths with it. They took very good care of each one, ensuring it would be a quick end should any critter be caught. Yet soon, they began to see the signs, the marks of what they came so far for, they take their hand and press it to the snow, a pang of cold rushing through their whole arm as they do so, they measure the hoofprint, it was large, the size of their palm doubled, they proceeded to follow it down a valley, trees whose bark had been marred by antlers began appearing before them, yet once they came across fresh droppings they knew they would soon find what left those tracks. The Sighting They could hear the distant rushing of water, and so they took to the treeline, making themselves at home on a particular tree that had a full view of the lake they had found. Yet they had to wait, and wait they did, stark still in the cold for what felt like much more time than had actually passed. Their patience was rewarded. ‘Lo came a moose, trekking through the snow with its long legs, it was a bull, easily double Klaus’ size, upon seeing the animal Klaus nocked an arrow,placing it upon their bowstring and drawing it. They still needed patience, they were told to wait just for the right moment, where the bull was most vulnerable. They waited, watching the beautiful beast bathe in the sun, then it decided to wade into the water. Their eyes narrow behind their spectacles, their stomach rumbling already from hours of standing still, a small icicle formed at the edge of Klaus’ lips from the chew they had been trying to trick their own hunger with. The moment was now. The moose had eaten the weeds beneath the water, pulling its head out of it to take in air, it then decided to wade back into shore, shaking the water off. Until... It was struck, ichor dripped onto the soil as the arrow Klaus had waited so long to let fly pierced its neck, through and through, it proceeded to try to flee, but it was fruitless, it collapsed beneath the treeline as Klaus watched, muttering a prayer to the lord of the hunt for the lucky strike, once being met with the dying animal, they decide to take their spear, allowing the animal to rest in onyx black with one swift thrust. With a satisfied hum, they would use a sled to move the animal, the equipment they brought was set far away so as to not let down traces. The small ‘ame would head the exact route they came, checking their traps on their way home, they had caught three rabbits and one fox. The hunt was successful, Blessed be. [OOC:]

Love the froggy facts!

What's your favorite sweet? Or general food?

[!]A particular praying mantis doll would deliver a notice to those who would care to read it, and those who did not as well, once opened the letter would read the following: “Greetings. It is Boreal. I am alive and well, and this message is the first and last explanation that I will deliver. I do not mean for this to be taken as hurtful, for the opposite is the goal. I no longer wish to be a part of any circle or guild. This has been a decision that has long crossed my mind and I have decided that it is wise to act on it. I've come to realize that working within a group of any sort is very difficult for me, this is no fault of anyone, I am just recognizing my limits and following them by leaving, for if i do not i will become more of a burden than anything else. I cannot change my past actions or words, be it for the better or worse. I have made mistakes and have learned from them at my own pace. I do not want my life to be a sob story, or a cautionary tale for those to come. Now the point of this message is to open an avenue of communication, just because I bear no wish to be a part of a circle it does not mean I will cease to do my duty as a druid. Whenever I am needed, tell me, when not, I bid you all farewell.” [OOC:]

"Totems are gifts. They are given to us one way or the other, and much like gifts, you may move onto something else if it no longer fits you." The Boreal Druid murmured as they watched from a distance, perhaps only heard by the trees. Yet the pride within their gaze will forever remain.

Oh have a good rest my friend, well deserved. We'll be here should you ever return.

AYO! This is SICK! Love me some existential horrors, good work Archi!

"This is great" Boreal mumbled after a few minutes that it took them to comprehend half the missive.

"My expectations were low for Healun'or, but rock bottom has a basement." The Boreal Druid mumbled as their one eye read over the missive.

There's always fun and interesting ways to implement such things in a way that it isn't NPC'd, let us stray away from the flaw that Auction houses, shops and banks have, that being there's nobody there, it is an NPC interaction at best, an ATM at worst.

The Boreal Druid, casually reading such a missive, recalls the kin of Azdromoth fleeing from battle as soon as reinforcements came, and off came a wheezing, grating laugh out their maw. "The moment one fights back, they flee with their tales 'tween their legs. Yet have the gall to hurl empty threats. You are playing a stupid game, and your prize will be earned soon enough." The elf hummed into the night air, surrounded by all that Azdromoth's brood could muster in that day. Failure.

I adore this piece, good work, i can picture such a tree in my head since you described it so well, amazing job!

The pale druid that belonged to the north would happen upon the notice from their room from the hall of the seed, the fateful day when Mandragora had her change of heart. The request for help and the turmoil that followed within nature's song. They down a swig of the strongest mead they had in hand and set the note down, rubbing their eyes and staring at the fireplace within their home, sinking back into the plush seat with a sigh. ..Were they worthy of the knowledge that came with the favor?

A pale druid with scorched and tattered clothing happened upon the missive, they take a pause from the carrying of seeds and cuttings of the trees within the charred woodlands to regard it properly, soot-covered boots digging into the soil as their pace came to a sudden halt. An amused "mmh" was all that escaped them, they soon then folded the missive and placed it amongst the many others they hoarded, continuing on their lumbering way through the woods.

"Took them long enough." a particular pale elf muttered to themselves as they sat on some den inside the druidic grove, where they had to pass by a lot rainbow flags on their way to it.

Good, i enjoy.

The Boreal druid had reached their last trial, plumes of smoke billowed out their nose as they took on the strange mixture of herbs, holding the smog inside their lungs before releasing. Their pupils dilated and their perception warped, a green blindfold was placed over their illuminated eyes, the linen texture bothered them, but they soldiered through, for they had done well so far, this was no time to waver. Soon, the waves of the sea hit their half-deafened ears, the smell of saltwater and the gusts of warm breeze hit their pale countenance, though their determination to not waver was solid, the sense of impending doom was greater, the warm sand, the tropical paradise they found themselves in, nothing would take away from the bubbling fears inside their chest. Now they were all alone, they could see now, the scratchy fabric leaving their visage, though that did not comfort them. Shimmers of warped light and shadowy figures peeked around the familiar trees, sullen eyes as blazing white dots within the twisted facades. They clench their eyes, form tensing and fists balled, to those outside their torment this would only seem like an elf lying against the warm sand and sobbing, but to them... the sounds of screaming blasted through their mind, the sight of smouldering buildings,the clanking of iron hitting iron, all over again, in a loop, they had to open their eyes, open "open.." "OPEN!" They found themselves in a stone-laden room. A Crypt, their bruised, diminutive hands pounded against the wooden door, after all this time, the smell of sage would still make them unhappy, the sight of crosses and priests would strike fear into their mind. But why? What was so wrong about them? Who had they angered? The silhouette they had feared for many years charged them, fists that developed into claws that soon struck them, they yelped out, shrinking away but nothing they could do would stop him. A shock followed, their body collapsed against the grass and stone as they tumbled down a hill, all this time, they managed to meander over to half the way back, they then get up with a groan, the pain of scrapes and cuts somewhat sobering, if only for a series of blissful moments, before they were sent into the pits of delirium once more. Now they are in a room with red carpet, the patterns seemed to shift each time they looked, so they refrained, the vermin that was shoved into their soul was now lying on the floor, lifeless, blotches of inky blackness lined the floorboards and refined carpets. Did they do that? They wondered, before their question was answered rather abruptly, by a claw connecting with their midsection and sent them tumbling back, they clutched their torso and screamed, they screamed for so long that when they took in a breath, they found themselves sitting up against the ground, they had hit a branch, once more, they get up, wiping away the tears from their eyes as they now could see the gateway. However, as soon as their feet hit the water, they looked up, and found themselves in a forest. It is the beginning of spring, but there are a few traces of winter left in the form of gentle puddles of snow, they find an ivory box under the water that flowed through between their knees, they wipe some of the grime off, deciding to open the small box. inside it, was a small amulet, where a small purple pendant lay. However as soon as they looked up, they were face to face with a figure, it downed a mask and a long shawl, painted with an uncountable amount of rich old hues, antlers that bore blooming flowers shot from behind the mask, they are not sure they saw him, but they are sure they heard him, for his laughter sounded of birdsong and wind-chimes. And so they stopped at the gate, half-dazed and with their coat ripped and dirtied, blood dripping out their nose and bruises lined their face and torso, they were home, they did not announce themselves, they only walked inside, greeted by the sounds of nature and chatter from their brethren.