The Exodus of Orlin Foehammer

[gbbishop]

A dusty and travel weary figure scours the surrounding forest. A closer look reveals a cloaked man, stout of stature and fully bearded. He can easily see above the tree line from his hilltop vantage, yet he stands with his head cocked to one side as if listening for something. Rumors and whispers have brought him here, hoping that the forest spirit that is said to reside here will finally guide him to his destination. Quietly, ever so patiently he waits. Suddenly a gust of wind rips his hood from his head, revealing a dusky complexion and green eyes the color of soft spring grass. He smiles. The spirit has granted him passage and shown him the way. He replaces his hood and shoulders his pack then turns and walks into the dense foliage, leaving no sign of his brief stay.

Not wanting to loose sight of his guide Orlin sets a steady pace. He knew the trek would be long but time and distance had long since taken it's toll. He has been following the spirit for three days now stopping only for water and quick meals provided by the forest. With the sun marching precariously close to the horizon, the forest shadows seem soft and extraordinarily long to Orlin's weary eyes. The sounds of a brook catch his notice and briefly he is fully awake again.

It takes him a few minutes to locate the small mountain stream. It is cool and clean and perfect for a moments reprieve. He sets down his pack and asks the forest for permission to indulge. The water is cool and soothing to his parched throat. Orlin sits back for a moment allowing him self to rest his tired feet. meaning only to pause in his journey for a short while he is utterly unprepared for the depth of slumber that over takes him.

He bends over the small pool for another drink. As he does a hideous visage stares back at him. He flings himself to the side knowing it must be too late to avoid a killing strike. The strike does not come however. As he tumbles on to his back attempting to face his assailant he finds nothing there. Slowly he reaches for the axe at his belt wary of the creature that must still be there somewhere. His hand fumbles it's familiar task of drawing his ancestral weapon. The weapon feels smaller than usual. Finally freeing it from its bandoleer he brings it into view. It was not the ax that changed but his hand. The axe falls from his hand. Disbelieving he shakes his hands as if to shake loose the foreign limb, three fingered and greenish gray. It was a familiar sight to Orlin, he had fought trolls before. Now by some curse he had become one.

He flees. As he runs his legs begin to wobble and flex. He stumbles forward his arms stretch out to catch him and become legs.

Now he is running on all fours. Long lupine legs carry him nimbly through the forest.

The forest floor give way beneath his feet now and he is falling. His wolfen paws uselessly scrabbling for purchase that is no longer there. His paws expand now. They begin to catch the air. They widen further, feathers exchange for fur.

He is soaring now, caught in a warm air updraft. Safe among the clouds now.

The winds change suddenly and violently. Lightning rends the air.

Thunder crashes and Orlin starts awake. He is back by the small mountain stream. The forest spirit waiting patiently turns to look at him but as always says nothing. Orlin laughs it off a little, "Ha, thats a new one! Troll huh, now oi turn inta a stinkin troll." He turns to gather his things, "well oi guess we'd best make 'aste ta tha Grove o' tha Sundered Valley."

The spirit nods and turns to lead on into the forest.

[gbbishop]

Having completed the task set forth by the Keeper upon his arrival to sacred grove, Orlin has returned with the dagger of Talona, hoping this will help earn the trust of the the Keeper.

The dreams have been getting worse. Orlin has now seen himself transformed into more creatures than he can count. He has changed from a mouse, the most humble of forms, to a dragon, certainly the mightiest. None of the druids known to Orlin have had the ability to change so drastically.

Now that he has arrived he feels a strong connection to this glade. The draw to come here has pulled him far from his home, but to what purpose, he know not. Even though his path is unsure, his conviction is not. As the Glade calls for aid Orlin will answer, unfailing steward of the wild lands, defender of the natural realms. None shall harm this beautiful place as long as he is alive to stand watch.

Orlin approaches the Keeper. He takes a knee and presents the Dagger of Talona. "Oi 'ave returned with tha artifact yer grace. Oi humbly request yer wise consul."

[gbbishop]

The Search for Annaleen

The lone dwarf sits alone in a forest clearing deep in the heart of the Virdale. One chase has only lead to another, He thinks to himself. The forest had whispered the name of the girl he sought, “Annaleen.” It had brought him here but to no avail. The one called Annaleen had long since continued on from this place. Orlin could see why the girl had been drawn to this place the vibrations in the air hummed with energy in the purest of emerald hues. His mind shifted back to the girl Annaleen. He thought of her thus for it was the only image he had to conjure to mind, it was the only lead the Keeper had given him. Based upon the importance the Keeper had placed upon finding her, she must be evermore than the simple farm girl he was told to seek.

Feeling anxious to find Annaleen and somewhat frustrated with the search Orlin decides to practice his newly forming gifts. Surely this sacred place will lend him strength.

[gbbishop]

//// also i have noted some grammatical errors. i will be correcting them when i feel more rested. for now i hope you all get the gist. ////

[gbbishop]

Orlin's Rath.

If another being had been there to witness, perhaps they would have been concerned. A young Dwarfman had entered the smallish copse of evergreen trees and no dwarf was seen leaving. As it was the forest was the only witness to the quiet passage of the shaggy wolf as it exited the copse.

The young wolf was shaggier than others in this region. It smiled inwardly at the tribute to his original form as he began his hunt anew. The wind was cold but only served to encourage the hunt. The trail had long since gone cold. “Find the one called Annaleen.” Bade the Keeper. “Do not rest until you do.” It seemed so long ago now to the young druid. Would he ever find her or was she lost to the same madness he feared for himself.
The forms were coming at will now and with growing ease. He had also mastered altering his native form. Not only could he change his face and his voice but the texture of his hide.

The possibilities were nearly endless. He was now able to mimic the beastlike humanoids he had been embattling for so long, orc, gnoll and goblin. With these new forms he was gaining perspective as to the plight of these creatures. He was beginning to see their part in the greater scope of the natural world. No longer as purely enemies, though certainly not allies. These ‘uncivilized’ races often succumbed just easily to the depraved actions that defiled nature. All attempts thus far at reasoning with the beast races had been in vain. Fear was the only thing they respected. Come to think about it, the races of man were as insufferable and impossible to dissuade. Ever bent, they seem, on conquest and expansion.

He did not realize the snarl that had overcome his visage. Nor did he notice that the forest had fallen silent to watch this raging force of nature pass through, clearly intent on the hunt.

[gbbishop]

A Return to the Glade

Orlin's search for the druid, Annaleen, was bringing him full circle. Lagnar had managed to track her down and was given a message for Orlin. "Control your anger." was the gist of it. "Ha, easier said than done." He thought.

While aiding the Skullcleavers he was able to learn that Annaleen was currently embroiled in some rather serious events. After hearing that her man, Osclow, was currently in the brig, he could understand her absence. Armed with this knowledge and the fact that Annie, as they called her, was in seclusion in the Druid's Glade, he returns there with a mix of emotions.

Looking around the Glade the is no sign of her. He asks a few of the druids there as to her whereabouts. None of them say much but to assure him that she is here in the glade. Frustration seeths in his veins. "good lot o' help you are." he mumbles his way over to his favorite rock to sit wait and try to hold back the anger.

He sits and begins to breath deeply....

[gbbishop]

What a lively young lass. Orlin thought to himself. he had finally met with the druid Annaleen, Annie as he was asked to address her. He chuckled at he thought. Young and full of youth, she was. It was surprising to him that she was in fact so young.

She had come to him at a very dark hour. He was sitting at the grove lost in his dark thoughts on a dark night. His mood was so black he had failed to ask after Annaleen when a young woman walked into the glade and began to gaze into the reflecting pool there. He would have missed her entirely if another had not wondered in at that moment.

A great and imposing druid with a staff of writhing vines said to her. "Good evening." Then turned to Orlin and said. "And you good sir. What brings you to the glade at this hour."

"Oi am of the grove sir" Orlin said in return. "I have simply returned home."

He said something about not interfering any longer and continued on his way to the rangers’ outpost on the other side of the glade. Orlin barely caught the words as he bade the girl good night. "Good night annie he said."

Something within snapped into place. “Annie.” He said quietly before he realized what he was saying. It caught on his tongue and echoed in his mind. “Annie.” He said again this time aloud. “You’re Annaleen!” he exclaimed, though doubt was in his mind. He held his breath, waiting for her to respond.

She looked up at him a little shocked at the sudden out burst and clearly unsure if the crazed eyed dwarfman intended her harm. “I am.” She said after a short hesitation.

“At last. Oi thought oi’d never foind ye.” He gestured to the Keeper on the other side of the grove. “He said I walk a dangerous path and that I should seek you wisdom.”

As she smiled warmly down at him the young dwarf let out a heavy sigh. A weight had lifted from his shoulders. He could continue on his path now.

[gbbishop]

Life is always full of tough choices, the creature mused. It all comes down to balance in the end. If the thing is out of balance it will naturally seek to return to balance... or it will digress into it's ultimate destruction.

The creatures form slowly shifting it's outter husk becoming hard and woody.
sometimes I wonder if in the fighting for a cause we ultimately doom that cause to failure, once again on a count of our actions forcing it out of balance.

Body now elongating and splitting is several unusual places. Green shoot begin to emerge distally through out the creature now. Suddenly the limbs snap back and the bark-like carapace fades. A young dwarf stand there with sweat running down an unfettered face.

"Wull, looks loike oi got a bit more to go 'afore oi get that one ta work."

The forest whispers around him with wind in tree leaves and water running beneath his feet.

The young dwarf smiles. "aye m'lady soon it will be. soon love."

[gbbishop]

The terrible presence that now throbbed between his temples had begun as a dull ache one morning. Something was not right in the valley. The balance had shifted. With the growing strength of thud thud in his head, it was no doubt getting worse.

Orlin stood awaiting the keepers attentions. He had dire news to report but as always it was best to let the keeper come round to you than to interrupt his meditations.

A rustling in the underbrush caught his attention, it was followed by one of the glades scouts. The lithe panther form began to twist and pop as bone and sinew realigned into the young elfs form. The keeper was, to orlin's surprise, now fully present and awaiting the druids report.

The treating with the Aurilites had not been in vein then, the young dwarf mused.

Orlin was forced from pondering how great indeed this threat must be when the Keeper of the grove turned his attention full on the dwarven shifter.

"What have you to report on the restless dead in the Necropolis?"

The Keeper had obviously know of Orlin's recent interest in that horrid place. It was there that the imbalance was rooted. Orlin could feel it more strongly the further he ventured in to their crypts.

"Yer Grace." He began. "The dead are indeed stirring. They are ever restless but never so talkative as oi seen um these past few days."

The keeper frowns as the dwarf continues.

"They were natterin' about the dead belongin ta them. They poured out of the temple of Kelemvor. Oi never seen um do that even though the temple be long desecrated and left for ruin. Et's always been resting peacefully. One o tha priestesses thought they might have some connection to a dead deader god. mykul or some such... oi never heard o him, but the sage told me that he might still have some faithful even among those that bow ta Velsharoon."

With the conclusion of Orlin's report the Keeper move on to question the Wolf tribesman remaining in the valley.

Fullgrin's account of a foray deep into the crypts and some fools treading where they might do more harm than good were certainly troubling. The sage had also divulged that there was an undead presence well hidden near the outer reaches of the Virdale.
It must be well hidden indeed for the druids not to have purged it's presence. The keeper had hinted awareness but for some reason was unwilling to tread further on the subject. That combined with the troubling accounts of this 'new master of the advent' an undying lich, on e with out even a soul to destroy as is normal for such tainted creatures. Well it all seemed as if the world was being uprooted and life being replaced by death and madness.

"Master Orlin." The keeper, now finished with the hin's report, turned to issue commands to the young dwarf. "You will lead the scouts in the lands of the dead. Report any findings to myself or the druid Annaleen."

"Aye yer Grace." The young druid nodding reverently to his superior.

He looks to his companion Lagnar. "You up fer a look see lad?"

[gbbishop]

too be cont.....