RP:An Unexpected Ally
Part of the Home Sweet Home Arc
Summary: Oline comes across Rikailin at the Spring of Vitality. The wounds on the druid's hands, earned from her rescue of Archdruid Liana, are mending badly, and Rikailin has recently taken to quenching her pain in the mystical pool. The two talk for a little while, and Rikailin tells her of the troubles Sage Forest faces. An unlikely alliance is begun here.
Spring of Vitality
The contrast here - for the present, in comparison to what lay before - is stunning. No longer does the stark, barren landscape lie void of life. Now the works of the denizens of the forest and the powers of the Pixie Druids have restored it to the full glory it deserves. A thick carpet of grass lies underfoot, moss and shrubbery making it soft and spongy. You almost feel tempted to remove your shoes if only to run through this lush blanket of greenery as no thorns or briars are visible, but decide against it as unsure who may come across you. This small patch of forest harbours a new feature than before, a glistening pool encircled by trees. The harsh destruction wrecked from the fires split the very earth here but the final effect has been far from detrimental. From the very ground has sprung a clear spring, filling the small crevice with its natural fluids as if the blood of the earth. Walking slowly over to the waters edge, you spot several tiny creatures flitting on ethereal wings about the radiant water, water Nymphs that guard this haven of life and nourishment with their Druidic magic. You cautiously lower a hand to scoop up some of the blessed water, the Nymphs paying little attention as you mean them little harm and upon drinking it down you feel a sudden rush of vitality. It's truly a wondrous act of nature and once again showing its unwillingness to give up. To your north, east and west lay the other patches of new forest whilst the southern route leads to the Old Forest.
Rikailin is sitting at the edge of the pool, hunched forward with her hands in the water. Her slender fingers send up the occasional ripple as they wriggle back and forth, and it is clear that contact with the spring is painful to some degree, but the druid does not pull back. Close scrutiny would show that the skin of her hands is bunched and gnarled, as if having long healed from immolation; since this is in fact the case, Rikailin is doing her best to coax healing from the natural magic of this place, and this is a ritual she has lately begun to subject herself to. She may look huddled and distracted, but the battle-druid is anything but; a wren in one of the trees overhead, a large toad sitting nearby on a rock, and several hovering insects nearby all give her a sensory picture of her surroundings, and her tenuous link to all of the aforementioned creatures means that nothing will take her by surprise in this place. The woman is an elf, complete with tapered ears and fine-boned good looks, but that is where all resemblance to elvenkind ends. Her hair is long and midnight black. Her teeth are too white, and a pair of fangs marks her as a vampire, albeit an unwilling one. Her skin, what skin is visible, is tanned from long exposure to the sun, which she does not fear or cower from, and her body is wrapped in vines of various types for modesty. Were she to stand, she would likely be taller than most elves, topping almost six feet, and feminine curves would be visible even beneath the rudiment of clothing she deigns to wear. But this is clearly a woman used to the wild, at peace with it...for now, at least. So she sits, and she bathes her hands in the healing spring, and she bears the pain, because she might just as easily be dead now, and wounds are testaments of continued life. Nevertheless, she will be glad if, at some day in the future, she can be rid of this weakness, this deformity, and have the full use of her slender hands back once more
Oline had no intention of sneaking up on anybody, though having accidentally managed it once today had resulted in the making of an unexpected friend. Towering over most of the landscape at ten feet tall, the giantess was easy enough to spot amongst the trees for any woodland creature. Tall and lanky, with wild unkempt red hair blown about by the breeze, she hardly fit the typical description of a giant. She was neither slow of body nor mind, moving swiftly among the trees in her bear-pelt loincloth as she made her way toward the spring. This had been her original destination, prior to crossing paths with Liana at the Ancient Tree, for there were more than a couple local rumors surrounding the restorative nature of this particular pool. The young giantess stopped short when she saw another had beaten her to the water's edge, her shouldered satchel slipping down somewhat as she tried to ponder what to do next. Did she wish to intrude? Did she call out some kind of greeting? Did she just go plodding forward and wait to be noticed? It was that last one she opted on, knowing that sure enough she'd be detected on approach. Only then would she offer a hail, stating brightly. "S'cuse me? D'ya mahnd iffa come 'n sit bah th'watuh a bit?"
Rikailin looks up from the rippling surface of the water, blue eyes alighting upon the giantess and seeming to take her in. It is her familiars who give her the visual picture she seeks, however, since her eyes, natural though they look, are wholly blind. She grunts a noncommittal sound low in her throat, and then, realizing that more is required, she gives her head a sort of half-annoyed shake. "If you mean no harm, then the bounties of the forest may avail you. If you intend to do any ill here, I suggest you start running, and don't stop until you're back to wherever you came from. I won't miss a large target." Rikailin's face is grim and set, and the muscles of her shoulders have grown tense; she is no longer at her ease, and is mentally cursing her bad luck to have been disturbed. And yet...hostility must be tempered. She knows that. So much time alone does not give her license to be rude. "I am Rikailin," she explains. "I am steward of this place. I was one of the only ones to defend it when the drow attacked. I don't take kindly to things I don't understand. You are probably exactly what you appear, and thus no threat. Take of the water and the peace it exudes if you wish it. I won't harm you unless you deserve it. And...and, I will apologize for harsh speech. It is not often I speak to outsiders." Throughout, Rikailin's hands are submerged, smarting and stinging; she can feel the healing magic doing its daily work on her ruined flesh.
Oline frowned. It was not a response to the hostility of the woman's voice, but rather in reaction to watching her dip her damaged hands into the water. The process seems quite unpleasant, and being the empathetic soul she is it did not sit well with her. Still, finding a spot reasonably distant from Rikailin, the giantess knelt down beside the pool and let her satchel slump onto the ground. With a deep breath in, Oline let's much of the day's stress slowly begin to melt away. After several long moments of silence, she again speaks. "Ah'm Oline. Ah fawt with th'Warryuh's Gild t'fend offa nest've bugs here'n Sage whut wuz thretnin' t'kill evvuhbuddy." She leaned forward and cupped up a handful of water, splashing it into her face and letting her held breath escape. "Ah guess t'day juss mah lucky day foh meetin priddy elf-ladees whut thenk Ah'mma stomp 'rownd reckin' sheyeht r'sumthin'." she mused aloud.
Rikailin looks levelly across the pool at the giantess and smiles; it is a fearfully chilly smile that does not reach those assessing blue eyes. "Oline, is it? No, it's not so much that I expect you to stomp around wrecking things. It's more that I have long since learned to be wary. You are trusted until you prove that you can't be, but unlike some, I give that warning beforetime. If you have bad intentions, it's better I warn you off before we come to violence. I don't need more blood on my conscience, and if we fight, it will come to that." Unruffled and arrogant, as her station and her upbringing both have led her to be. The vines on her upper arms twist and writhe as if agitated. "But I thank you for the compliment. Wrapped in vines as I am, I imagine I look a little like an ivy-trellis with a head. Or would, if I stood up. But you must forgive me for not doing so just now. The water. My hands. It is necessary."
Oline glanced back to the water again, still frowning. "D'ya mahnd me askin' whuddappen't?" Her inability to speak anything other than earnestly was a double-edged sword. It meant that she couldn't lie to save her life, nor was there a duplicitous bone in her body. It also meant that she was often blunt, had difficulty judging whether or not a thing she had said was tactful, and always felt very awkward in social situations where crossing that line might result in confrontation. It was with complete earnestness and sincerety, then, that she inched just a little bit closer to look at Rikailin's hands and stated matter-of-factly. "Tha' looks lahk sum'n ovvuh-cooked two slabs've meat..." chuckling softly. She quickly added, befreckled cheeks turning red. "Ah'm sorreh. But no, rilla... tha' looks like it 'urts allot. D'ya thenk they'll git bedduh iffin y'keep soakin' em?"
Rikailin favours the giant with a curt nod, saying nothing for a moment. Her mind flashes back to that time in the dark caves, the rescue, the warded cell door. "Liana, the archdruid of Sage, was held prisoner by the drow. Held for years, in the dark, alone, without friends or hope. A friend and I went down to rescue her. I swore when I returned to these lands that I would find her, alive or dead, and bring her back if I could. I did." She raises her dripping hands from the water; by her own reckoning, the damage seems a little less today. "Her cell door was warded. I pulled that ward apart with my hands while my friend used fire on the door-hinges. Lightning feasted on elven flesh that dark day, I can tell you." Another chuckle, throaty and low. "Yes, it hurts. But most of me hurts, to one degree or another. I'm used to it. But I need the use of my hands back, if I can get it. And so I come here. These waters heal the flesh, to some extent, and the tranquility is good for the soul. I could use a spot of both, most days."
Oline bobbed her head in agreement. She'd been coming here to meditate for a while. It helped, while she was here, to drown out the screaming voices in her head. Slowly, as her mind processed that information, the giantess found herself making the connection she should have made immediately. "Leeahna! F'coorse y'know each uttha! Now tha' mecks sense. Ah juss met her ovvuh inth'rilla dark paht've th'fohrest. Wittha big tree!" Liana had been a prisoner. For years. To the drow. Well, that explained the woman's terrified reaction to her. And birds. And any sudden movement. Oline's experience with drow in these lands had so far been limited to... bizarre. Across the sea, in her homelands, she'd... known full-well why the elves of the Underdark are so well-hated by all. "... fuggered Dahk Elfs... n'wunduh th'poor ladee's sucha mess. Issa shame, cuz Ah kin tell juss bah lookin' add'er... she's rilla sumthin'." The giantess laughed. "Yer sumthin' too! Scarry-uh, shoore... but yer sum'thin. Ah'm a good judge've char'ctuh!"
Rikailin | This time, Rikailin's chuckle is a little freer, a little less ironic. "I've heard it told that when you have to proclaim that you're good at something, you're doing something wrong." She smiles though, to make her intended joke clear as such. "Liana is quite something. She and I once ruled these lands, after a fashion. Wood elves don't rule, as such; they keep watch, and they push back threats, and otherwise leave the world to itself. Liana was better with politics and the like, and her druidic crafts are more widely honed. I...well, I was a weapon. Still am. Death is a part of the natural balance. I brought it when it was needed. My name was feared and respected, but I took no real pride in that. I simply did what I needed to do. What Liana could not fight, I took care of; what I could not reason with, Liana dealt with. Until the Drow. But they are gone, driven back underground where they belong. I only regret that I could not be here to have been part of that. The stories are bloody and glorious." Rikailin rests her hands gently on her bare knees. "You clearly have much respect for Liana despite her condition. You may truly see more than most, since most would mark her as a ruined shell of who she once was. She is cracked, but not broken. Neither, for that matter, am I."
Oline flashed a toothy grin and bobbed her head. "Ah'v herd ullawt've thengs folks sey. Lahk whut jah'yunts is lahk. Big... smelly... stoopid... eat chilluns 'n rocks..." she chuckled and shrugged. "Ah've also herd nawt t'bleeve evvuhthin' y'hear." She listened with curiosity, and no small amount of historical interest, in the recounting of what happened with the drow. She'd heard they were ousted, driven back underground, but not by who or when. It seemed recent, though... and someone had even suggested maybe they were responsible for the monster bugs! Had... that been Rorin or Lionel? She couldn't quite remember. "Sown's lahk a helluva fite. Sad Ah miss't it too."
Rikailin | "The direct approach. I like that," Rikailin replies. "Listen, but don't believe until you have proof. And you speak your mind, which is more than I can say for half the fools I come across. If the drow come back, and I am still here to see it, I will drive them out. And then I will personally lead the army which finishes them entirely, even if it is an army of one. The only reason I don't do it now is because the forest's need is greater. They tainted it, you know. It weakens, day by day, and we can't find how to unwind the curse." Maybe it is the smooth stone hung about her throat, or the rippling pool before her, or the giantess herself, but Rikailin feels herself relaxing in a way she has not done in quite some time. "As for giants, now...I know some are probably as you say, but I know few, so I tend to take them at face value. Your accent is thick but you aren't stupid. And you look light enough on your feet." All said without the slightest reference to her blindness or her familiars; no need to complicate the situation. "I'm probably still faster, but you're definitely stronger. And speed is usually the primary aspect of combat, not strength. A small rock thrown dextrously enough lodges in the eye of the greatest beast."
Oline hummed thoughtfully. "Ah've put'n elf tha' thawt'ee wuz fastuh 'n me onniz arse, tha' Ah kin promess ya." Still, she had no real interest in testing whether the same would hold true in regards to Rikailin. She was much more interested in hearing about this curse. "Th'forrist iz gettin' weakuh?" she inqured, a note of concern etching its way across her face. "... s'gotta be a way t'stawpit, en't there?" The idea of just letting a place as massive and beautiful as Sage die out because of the bitter spitefulness of the Drow didn't sit well with her. Not at all. "Izzere anythin' Ah kin do t'help?"
Rikailin shakes her head slowly, then stops. Immediate negation is no way to treat this woman, who truly does seem to mean well. "I...think not. Not unless you have skill with magic," Rikailin explains. "Dyraxdiin, a mage of some renown, I hear, is trying to help, but we don't know enough yet. We know what is happening, but not precisely how it's taking place." She sighs; from a vampire, this breath is a completely useless sound, but Rikailin still voices her displeasure thus. "If I could simply give of my soul, whatever remains of it, to throttle the evil, then I would do it. Let the mantle of protector pass to someone else, if it means there will always be a realm to protect. I don't relish the idea of being the last guardian of a dead land. The only way you can help, Oline, is by making sure people know of the plight. Knowledge, as they say, is power, and the more we have who are interested in the healing of the forest, the more likely we are to come up with something. It pains me that even as a fairly powerful druid, I cannot simply wrest the evil out of my home and have done with it."
Oline 's fingertips idly brushed at the rings piercing her lower lip. That was... disheartening... but unsurprising as well. Typical of the dark elves, to decide that if they could not dominate a thing... it should die rather than go back to those who rightfully claim it. There was no small amount of bitterness in the girl's voice as she claimed as much. "Fuggerin' Dahk Elves! Soddemall! Bunch'a half-arsed spiduh-crazy red-ah'd... DUNGHUMPERS!" Her fist clenched as the last word rose into a shouted exclamation. The rage building in her chest too reached a crest, and then slowly it subsided as the giantess turned her sights back to the spring. Another handful of water was splashed in her face, and then a nother still. "Tha's... th'least Ah kin do. Ah hunt innis forrist. Sumtahms Ah sleep 'ere. S'as much'a home t'me s'Lahket iz." She sighed. Hers was a very meaningful breath, held longer than she'd meant and followed by another breath in. "Ah foh wun... hope it en't gonna take yer soul t'fix. Ah filla lawt bettuh alreddy knowin' th'pless iz gawtchya lookin' affa it!
Rikailin smiles rarely, and when that smile is warm, it is rarer still. She does, though, and though it shows her teeth, there is still some warmth in her eyes. It transforms her face from a mask of grim determination into some shadow of the woman she once was, proud and strong, yet passionate and nurturing in her way, too. "Would that it can be, Oline," she says, and her voice is softer than at any point in the conversation before. "Would that it can be. Time will tell. I won't sacrifice in vain; I have no desire to wear martyr's white or have a statue graven in my image. We all do what we must, and sometimes it is even enough." Rikailin stands now, tall and statuesque and beautiful in a raw, elemental way common to wood-elves. "But I have sat here long enough. My hands have gotten as much respite as they're going to. Now I hold vigil. Where I go, you will be hard-pressed to follow." She jerks her head at the trees, gesturing with one arm to indicate the higher, loftier branches. "I move even faster there than on the ground, and am better concealed. It's a tireless business, but someone has to do it." Rikailin bows somewhat awkwardly, then straightens again. "It's a pleasure to know you, Oline. Another bastion against the dark. Another stout heart not afraid of itself. Keep that fire alive. Bank it when flames will hurt, and loose it when they'll purify." She grins roguishly. "And remember that we all make choices we regret. We all do things we desperately wish we could do again. The thing to do in a case like that is to do your grieving, your crying, your screaming as you must, and then set yourself a task. I told Liana much the same. Maybe it'll do you no good; you don't seem particularly troubled just now, but there may be rage in you, maybe even the self-directed kind. You learn to see the signs if you're half-wise, and I'm more than that." She is still grinning. "But you're strong. Don't get to thinking that you aren't. The world can break you, and you can break the world, but you mustn't break yourself. If you should see Liana, tell her...tell her that I was right. But tell her that she was, too." And Rikailin gives a private little chuckle, as if at an unshared joke.
Oline was more than a little impressed with the elfess' appearance. She was a tall, dark, agile thing... and a fighter, too, in her own right. Looking at her as she rose to depart, the giantess knew she'd have lost any skirmish between them in an instant. Rare was it that she saw something she found to pretty too fight, and yet there was the druidic sentinel of Sage... proving that such a thing exists. A bright scarlet flush washed over Oline's cheeks as she realized she was staring, not saying anything at all. Words, girl... use words! Her pale, cream-colored lips opened to speak... but nothing came out. She just sat there and listened, nodding her head in understanding as Rikailin spoke. Liana's wise friend. Of course it had to be. And now here she was, passing on that same advice... find a task to keep her mind off the guilt... the sadness... the past. It was hard not to grin almost stupidly at the revelation of it all, but Oline forced herself to remain stoic. Only once the vampiric elf was done speaking did Oline dare find her voice, and then it came with a crooked grin and a bright laugh. "Ah will. Ah'll tell'er. Oh, 'n if y'happen t'see her affore Ah do... 'pparently she's rilla fond've jam. Y'shood thenk abowdt bringin' her some. 'N some bread t'puddit on. She ate almoss half m'bottle!" After a second, she added. "Annif y'see me 'rownd... mebbe fill free t'cmawn down 'n chat. Ah promise Ah en't gunna bite." Yes. Tell the fangly elf you won't bite her. Smooth. "Good huntin', yeh?"
Rikailin nods, raises a hand, and waves peremptorily. She is already beginning to lope toward the nearest tree, the vines about her body rustling. "May your days be long and your nights free of bad dreams, Oline. May the hunt be good and the peace be deep." From easy lope to full-body leap, Rikailin launches herself toward the tree. Vines lash out all around her like serpents, first battening onto nearby branches and then catapulting her upward. With a greater degree of flair than is strictly necessary, the battle-druid ascends. She twists, dives, rolls, bounces on arched feet, and generally puts on quite the aerial display as she bounds from tree to tree. She makes a fair amount of noise this way, it must be allowed, but soon she is forty feet up, then fifty, and still climbing. The wren shadows her at a distance, hiding unconsciously in the druid's writhing shadow and thus out of sight. The bird does not sing as it provides its ward the necessary sightlines for her vertical and lateral movements. The elf is one with the trees, and before much time has passed, there is neither sight nor sound of her. She might be half a mile away, or only in the nearest tree, but she has gone from flashy aerobatics to sheer, sentinel stealth in no time at all. The voices of the forest whisper, the wind eddies across the quiet pool, but Rikailin is gone from this place.