When the mountain shakes

[BattlePixie]

It was dusk when the trio passed what was left of the Legion's encampment on the border to rebel held lands. They only stopped briefly to inspect the dead horses, but then quickly moved on down the path toward the mountain in the distance. Townsfolk sitting outside the inn enjoying pipe tobacco and a frosty ale watched as they trio marched past without a second look and headed out to the old oak tree that dominated the grassy plain. The townsfolk watched their silhouettes as the trio approached the massive and old tree, watched as the smallest of them reached out and placed a hand upon its bark in reverence.

Then the horrible happened. The small little creature touching the tree began to change, the tree seemed to grow over her, roots sprang from the ground and wound their way up the little creature's body until she looked like a sapling growing in the shadow of the mighty oak. But the transformation continued, she grew as a tree would, branches sprouted from her body and leafy greens budded from what was once her head until she was a mirror of that ancient oak sitting peacefully on that grass plain, towering above everyone that visited.

It was calm for a moment and then the woman who had transformed into a tree shook violently, her roots pulled themselves out of the ground and she began to move, walking awkwardly at first, but gaining strength with each thundering step.

With a roar that echoed across that grassy plain, she stomped her mighty roots and shook her branch like limbs at the mountain that held the Veritas rebels.

The Veritas sent their soldiers in response, but mighty tree limbs swept them aside. Swords broke against the thick bark and arrows seemed to get caught in the leafy foliage, falling harmless to the ground. The tree advanced up the narrow winding path toward the gates of the main stronghold. The tree seemed to become more enraged with each Veritas soldier it crushed under its roots, or threw over the cliff edge to the grass floor below.

Then it had reached the gates to the keep itself, hidden within the mountain. The branches of the tree wrapped themselves around the iron portcullis and tore it free with a thundering screech, then squeezed its massive bulk into the keep proper with deafening, inhuman roar.

Only the echoes of soldiers screaming floated down the mountainside that evening as the giant tree reaped terrible violence upon them.

[Gorri]

He watches in awe as the grubby little hin takes on the spirit of the tree to quickly become like the Treants of the High forest that he has heard so much about, but never himself bore witness to.

Inspired by the strength of nature in his new found friend, he let's out a blood curdling wolf cry and begins to take on the spirit wolf transformation of his own. His sharp teeth jutt out, thick charcoal grey fur pushes up from every pore in his body, his arms and legs stretch out as he tips over onto all fours, his claws lengthen and dig into the earth prepared to tear up the mountainside and strike fear into the hearts of his prey unaware.

As the great tree spirit thunders up the mountain trail, stomping with mighty root, and thrashing with might bough... the wolf spirit flashes blinding lightning in all directions to stun the archers and even rout some of the soldiers who are lesser of heart. The wolf greedily tears at the throats of the panicked rebels that the monk and great tree leave wounded and maimed in their terrible ascent.

By the time they reach the very top of the mountain and the path of dead stretches all the way along the path down, the wolf is in pure blood frenzy. Covered in the crimson spoils of their victory from mane to nose... he licks his maw and wags his tail smiling at his friends.