Forest Fire: The Viridale Burns

[Doubtful]

"Wozzat 'en?"

"Dunno. Looks loik a gurls 'and bag tu me."

A small shok squad of orcs peered at the bag dropped by their ambush victim, the victim having fled the scene at some considerable pace.

"'ere, less ava looksie. Nuffin in 'ere but bottles and wire..."

The detonation was heard for miles around, within minutes a column of thick chocking smoke began to rise above the forest.

Near the Mossclaw encampment ranger Veltek watched in horror as the deer he'd been hunting snagged a tripwire, blowing the animal to pieces and engulfing the stand of trees in consuming flames.

A druid of the grove arrived soon after and called upon the land to protect her from the flames. She strode forward, her body transforming into that of a water elemental to douse the flames.

She tripped another stack of traps, the burst of flames combined with a terrible scream that left her stunned and disorientated. She staggered back toward Valtek.

She found the ranger led out on the floor, his eyes wide in wordless panic. Her aquatic shape fell away, leaving her human once more. She bent to aid the stricken ranger, glimpsing the flat metal crossbow bolt jutting from the base of his neck.

There was a faint click as she moved him, then the crystal charges released their energy. A wave of divine anger, fury and retribution burst out, flaying the flesh from both ranger and druid.

Around them, the Viridale burned.

[Seheren]

Seeing the columns of smoke, the dwarf, who's new home was aflame runs from his small camp. Still a fair distance from the carnage, he makes way carefully from there on, going as far as two mounds of gore. The sight of the gore, wrapped in hides, and the forest aflame behind them, enrages him. Thinking only that the Forest has been attacked he runs.

He turns towards the Druids Glade. His face nearly purple, thick veins like ropes, twisting up his neck and face, pulsing with each of his pounding heart beats. His shouts of incomprehensible rage are, no doubt, heard long before any of the druids see him.

In his rage, unable to control his actions, he approaches the first druid visible to him. Taking a handful of the hides upon them with his ham-sized fists, using all his strength to wrench the form down to his eye level. He screams his questions into the druids face, his eyes red and wild, spittle flying from his mouth. The veins in his face looking as if they are to burst from his skin at any second. Of all of his mostly incomprehensible screaming, one question was repeated several times, echoing in the serene glade.

"YER GON'TA TELL ME! WHO DUN IT!? WHO!?"

((Rugus, member of Natures Vanguard.))

[Root]

The Forest's Dragon, Aho'thahg, is running her usual free patrol within the woods at the time of the fires. As the flames raise higher and higher, she sprints through the forests against the tides of fleeing wildlife and beasts, anything unwise enough to get in her way being battered to the side.

Reaching the site of the burning trees, she looks up, knowing there no way to get enough water to quench the rapidly spreading fires.

No Uthgardt will willingly fell a tree....

As she hesitates, sparks flicker to another branch, spreading to the next one in the line. She draws the sawtoothed warblade from her back, gritting her teeth, and knowing all that she can do to stop this goes against one of the oldest of her tribes vows.

Leaping to one of the still healthy trees that stands between the fire and the unburnt woods, she begins tearing the trunks down, one by one, in an effort to seperate the blaze from the still-living forest. The rising temperature barely bothers her, for there is a fire far more painful and furious than any normal flame boiling inside her. Her dragonborn strength is pushed to it's very limits tearing the ancient trees from the floor, killing the few in the hopes that the many can be spared, at least for enough time for the druids to extinguish the flames.

Even as the flames begin to sting her not fully developed scales, she continues, skin beginning to blister. Tree after tree falls to her blade and might, no breath of the smoke-filled air spent praying forgiveness for what she truly believes must be done.

She would fight this battle until the smoke choked her, and she passed out, or anything happened to stop her efforts.

Those responsible would be better to pray that the fire consumes her.

(( Generally going on what she'd do, if there's any DM problem/input with this, please let me know ))

[Gorri]

Canus and sister Lupus, in their true wolf form, were frolicking around the ruined mill house near the entrance to the Untrodden... occasionally making a game out of luring out and overcoming a loose wraith or two for fun and practice ~~ when out of no-where...

...an unfathomably loud blast and pressure wave from the other side of the forest knocks the two of them over and rolls them half way down the hill towards the stream. A second after a heat wave pushes through the forest canopy and after a few minutes the smell of ash and wafts of black smoke begin to fill the air.

Canus and Lupus look at each other in panic... their ears folded down and tails between their legs. Moments later, as the two head over the ridge to investigate the cause and survey the damage.... another blast. The wolves instinctively squat down flat with their bellies on the ground and wait for the first and harshest of the heat waves to pass.

Desperate cries of their pack brothers and sisters being to sound off in all the hills of the Viridale... except from the Mossclaw camp. Canus lets out a loud and anxious cry to ellicit the response of all the wolves of the pack thatcan be heard in all of the Dale. Too few response come from the Mossclaw... Canus turns the gaze of his lone right eye back to his sister... his heart turns to stone as his lips curl up revealing a set of sharp, dripping fangs. He lets out a growl that startles his sister... in his mind the words.... "vengeance, wrath, fury" repeat over and over.

The two wolves race West across the forest until they find the thick smoke carried down wind by the raging wild fires. They follow upwind, keeping a safe distance from the choking winds, to assess the damage and see if they can spot any signs of malicious intent in the tracks and traces on the ground as they enter Mossclaw territory. Moments later... a third blast... so close it hurts the ribs as the pressure wave tears through the forest in all directions. The cry of a woman is heard immediately after the blast over the ringing in one's ears. Canus and Lupus race to the scene to see if they can be of aid first and foremost.