"In our dreams, we cannot see," preaches the Keeper. He has called a meet in the great circle. Druids, priests, and even local tribe chiefs have heeded this call. They recognize their duty to the land. They recognize they are on the edge of something catastrophic.
"We see black. We are blind," continues the Keeper. "Our vision of the forest is clouded. We cannot see what lays beyond this black mist. Un-life has come, and the land wilts beneath its feet. In its wake, the great stretch of man's cities oozes onward, growing as a great cancer upon the world. We have fought many years against each--but we now face them both."
"We have called this meet to renew your pact to the circle. The elders have spoken and it is decided. The wrath, the guard, and the servants--you will each be called in defense. The Great Black must be removed. There is no greater threat to the world. We must remember what we serve--and we must now act."
With these last words, the Keeper grimmaces in pain. He falls to a knee, grasping his stomach. His eyes are clenched.
"Great One," speaks a concerned voice, "are you well?" The woman steps in to assist the Keeper. She is one of the elders--a kind devotee to Chauntee.
"I... I remember...," speaks the Keeper. He opens his eyes, and the glaze of meditation has washed away. He stares at the woman, blinking. He is focused on every line in her face. "I... I am hungry," he says.
A brief murmur goes through the crowd. Most do not understand the significance of the statement from such a man. A few do.
"Did he just say, 'I?!'"
"We see black. We are blind," continues the Keeper. "Our vision of the forest is clouded. We cannot see what lays beyond this black mist. Un-life has come, and the land wilts beneath its feet. In its wake, the great stretch of man's cities oozes onward, growing as a great cancer upon the world. We have fought many years against each--but we now face them both."
"We have called this meet to renew your pact to the circle. The elders have spoken and it is decided. The wrath, the guard, and the servants--you will each be called in defense. The Great Black must be removed. There is no greater threat to the world. We must remember what we serve--and we must now act."
With these last words, the Keeper grimmaces in pain. He falls to a knee, grasping his stomach. His eyes are clenched.
"Great One," speaks a concerned voice, "are you well?" The woman steps in to assist the Keeper. She is one of the elders--a kind devotee to Chauntee.
"I... I remember...," speaks the Keeper. He opens his eyes, and the glaze of meditation has washed away. He stares at the woman, blinking. He is focused on every line in her face. "I... I am hungry," he says.
A brief murmur goes through the crowd. Most do not understand the significance of the statement from such a man. A few do.
"Did he just say, 'I?!'"
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