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The moon of Selune sits high above you, traveler, as you walk under the canopy of leaves. For now, it is a peaceful, cool night, the breeze playing with the brush, and the crickets chirping near the river. As you trudge through the grasses of the beaten path, a wolf lets off a howl in the distance, and you stop, wary of the existence around you. In the bush, next to a nearby tree sits a badger, watching you, waiting to see what you will do. He scampers off as you make your way deeper into the trees. Maybe you care, maybe you don't, but we'll say that curiosity gets the best of you tonight. Actually, it probably wasn't the badger, but the small campfire that got your attention, so you, calmly, but warily make your way up the hill. As you near, you hear a rhythmic scraping, and the crackle of the flame, and, yet again, another howl in the distance. Returning your eyes to the fire as you near, you notice a man, sitting cross-legged at the fire, scraping away at a chunk of wood with a long, curved knife. The badger sits next to him, watching you, almost mocking you as you stare. Behind the man is another hunting knife, bloody, resting on top of a bulge of leaves in the grasses, and further behind, a crude axe rests in the block of wood. You revert your eyes to the man, wearing hardly but a tunic, his armor folded next to him. Either you begin to speak, or you continue to approach him, but he interjects.
"I've been watching you, traveler. Its a beautiful night, isn't it?"
The man then leans over to a nearby bush, and quickly cuts off a stem of berries, placing them next to him, and returning to his woodwork, scraping slowly. His golden-brown elven skin shines as the fire continues to crackle. He listens to you if you speak while licking a bit of berry juice off the knife, then interrupts:
"My name? My name is not that important. I welcome you here in the wood, but you must tell me: Why have you come?"
Again he returns to cutting the wood, quickly turning it into a small wooden bowl, and placing the berries in it. He motions for you to sit, and then holds the bowl out to you. Whether you take or not, his eyes stare directly into yours, then the rest of you, still holding out the bowl. After some silence, he takes back the bowl, and pops a berry into his mouth calmly. He turns away from you confidently, and places it on the ground, the turns back to you.
"The forest is very pretty, don't you think? It would be a shame if it were to come to harm. Tell me, are you a religious person?"
Without waiting, he leans his head down, praying, chanting in a Sylvan tongue. Whether you stay quiet, pray to yourself, or join him is not important, for he abruptly stops, opening his eyes, and piercing your stare. Suddenly, you find yourself looking at the bared teeth and fangs, for surrounding you are the beasts of the forest, all eyes trained at you. The wind picks up, and the bushes rustle loudly, the fire popping as leaves fall into it. The man stands up, holding his knife in hand, but not motioning to threaten you.
"Pay no mind, they're just some... friends. You see, i do not want to see harm to this land, or to those that it protects. So I must know: Is there evil in your heart?"
The wood-elf pauses, staring intensely.
"If not, then you will find a great many friends among the trees."
The man gathers his things, placing his knives in his belt, and the bowl in his pack, still watching you carefully, almost like he's judging you. The clouds draw in, and cover the moon's light. The creatures slowly turn and leave, the wolves howling menacingly. The man takes a pouch of water from his pack, and douses the now-dying fire, the area goes dark. The wind calms, and you hear the sound of the axe being pulled from the log. A moment passes, and behind you a voice says:
"My name? Tavain. I'll be watching."
Then the clouds clear, the light of Selune returning. All that is left are the remnants of the fire, and the berries upon the empty pouch. Silence.
"I've been watching you, traveler. Its a beautiful night, isn't it?"
The man then leans over to a nearby bush, and quickly cuts off a stem of berries, placing them next to him, and returning to his woodwork, scraping slowly. His golden-brown elven skin shines as the fire continues to crackle. He listens to you if you speak while licking a bit of berry juice off the knife, then interrupts:
"My name? My name is not that important. I welcome you here in the wood, but you must tell me: Why have you come?"
Again he returns to cutting the wood, quickly turning it into a small wooden bowl, and placing the berries in it. He motions for you to sit, and then holds the bowl out to you. Whether you take or not, his eyes stare directly into yours, then the rest of you, still holding out the bowl. After some silence, he takes back the bowl, and pops a berry into his mouth calmly. He turns away from you confidently, and places it on the ground, the turns back to you.
"The forest is very pretty, don't you think? It would be a shame if it were to come to harm. Tell me, are you a religious person?"
Without waiting, he leans his head down, praying, chanting in a Sylvan tongue. Whether you stay quiet, pray to yourself, or join him is not important, for he abruptly stops, opening his eyes, and piercing your stare. Suddenly, you find yourself looking at the bared teeth and fangs, for surrounding you are the beasts of the forest, all eyes trained at you. The wind picks up, and the bushes rustle loudly, the fire popping as leaves fall into it. The man stands up, holding his knife in hand, but not motioning to threaten you.
"Pay no mind, they're just some... friends. You see, i do not want to see harm to this land, or to those that it protects. So I must know: Is there evil in your heart?"
The wood-elf pauses, staring intensely.
"If not, then you will find a great many friends among the trees."
The man gathers his things, placing his knives in his belt, and the bowl in his pack, still watching you carefully, almost like he's judging you. The clouds draw in, and cover the moon's light. The creatures slowly turn and leave, the wolves howling menacingly. The man takes a pouch of water from his pack, and douses the now-dying fire, the area goes dark. The wind calms, and you hear the sound of the axe being pulled from the log. A moment passes, and behind you a voice says:
"My name? Tavain. I'll be watching."
Then the clouds clear, the light of Selune returning. All that is left are the remnants of the fire, and the berries upon the empty pouch. Silence.
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