RP:Shinnan's Glade Haunting

Lionel is dressed thinly as befits a somewhat warmer evening. As he steps through the glade, weary of predators this hour sentient and otherwise, he does so swiftly and with purpose, although light enough on his foot so as to seem stealthy. His only weapon this evening is not the trademark legendary blade Hellfire but rather a slender rapier, silvery and sharp, which he had used during training drills with his soldiers some five hours past. Overhead, a bird-of-prey encircles, and the Catalian silently questions its purpose. Very soon, he'll be initiating a dangerous expedition to rescue mages out west, but for tonight, Lionel O'Connor is merely a traveler, a passerby on his way to his manor.

Crows do sense death from this once beautiful glade. As soon as night fall comes, blood be comes a constant scent within the serene land. This is a place of love, compassion and promises and yet carcasses of numerous creatures littered the surrounding forest. The late night fog slowly seeps in as the doll wanders about. Normally she could detect anything that moves within the forest but whenever her other form is... awakened, all she could see is what's in her line of sight. Hidden still in the shadows, watching from a distance... soon enough she started to hum a tune, with the forest re-vibrating her music, it would be near impossible for anyone to find where it is coming from, she just hides for now, waiting to for her prey to land onto her web.

Lionel perks a brow as a melody reverberates throughout his surroundings, and yet reveals not its source, as though it is bouncing from tree to tree, wood to wood, imposing and yet perhaps harmonious as well. It is an unnerving thing, and he's encountered similar techniques throughout the years. None of them have ever ended well. At once, he stops, straightens his posture, attempts to ascertain the point of origin. This ends in failure, so he suppresses a frustrated sigh and crouches down low, then -- in this kneel -- quietly saunters over to a defensible position between two great stone pillars and rests his back against it amicably, slowly unveiling his rapier from its sheath.

A child's play. A mother's hum and a child's laughter. Movement. From the bushes something moved, skipping from one hiding spot to the next. A child's laughter soon filled the air as if it was playing hide and seek, happy that it was able to hide again in time and teasing the man. Yet the moment is far too small, even for a child. Soon the man would feel a collection of eyes looking at him from different directions, watching him. As it gets deeper and deeper into the night, mist continues to rise and the cold breeze finally sets in, breathing into the small glade. Sound of wood snapping as if a hunter made a mistake but it was far too obvious, like a whole tree branch breaking. Shadows within the forest continue to move. Watching her prey and waiting.

Lionel addresses each occurrence not individually, but collectively. The sound of a child's laughter; the intense inescapable sensation of being watched. It rings hollow; it rings a single hunter, magical or otherwise supernatural. Just then, the loudness of broken wood snaps him out of this analysis and back into the present. His enemies have oft made one pivotal mistake, however. There is a misnomer that without Hellfire by his side Lionel is a mere man. The fallen hero's bond with Halycanos, the vengeful spirit within his blade, solidified over a decade into the past. In the intervening years, he has learned to channel a certain symbiosis with the being no matter the distance between them. It could be said that within Lionel's heart Halycanos reigns... when needed. As night falls and shadows gather, Lionel taps into this chronicled coexistence; in his mind's eye, a black environment turns red with the pulsing of life all around him. The crows give off red, the hawk gives off red, the rats and the insects and the foxes give off red. The shadows, too, seethe with red, as though alive in their own right. And all around him, a malevolent presence beats a brighter red than all the rest of them combined. Lionel's azure eyes reopen and he springs to action, swinging forth his sword in a seemingly-meaningless pattern 'x' as he rolls across the wet dirt between pillars, building speed as he thrusts back through the trees. In his motions, wind gathers. In that wind, a fiery aura. And within that aura, a magical property crafted by alliance with Halycanos intent on blazing a protective channeling against whatever this threat proves to be.

She has been spotted. She is unaware of it just yet as in this state her mind is far less responsive to certain stimuli. She... hovers there. Few feet off the ground, against a tree. The marionette was tied down in vines as the man charges forth, she didn't realize that he was coming, too insane to bother apparently. Not really sure what the man was expecting to see here. In the dark of night, it would appear that a corpse was hanged within the forest and yet the lady in tattered white gown stares down at man as he continues to move forward. With a sickening sound of vines snapping and sap wetly dripping and leaking as she push herself away from the tree. Branches breaking as the forest tries its best to hold her down but her roars echoed through the darkness as escaped her restraints. On her back is a large wooden cocoon where six massive wooden spider-like legs protrudes from. Standing on the man's path and waiting for him. She extends her hand forward as vines from nearby trees began to pull themselves, leaving intersecting cables against the man's path, as if trying to capture him like a fly in a web. Vines began to snap and burn as the man pushes forward, roaring once more while a leg raises upward, aiming to strike down the man.

Lionel had intended to flee the scene entirely, in fact. His fight-or-flight impulse fixes firmly upon 'flight' in these instances; they tend to be deadly. Yet instead he's happened upon this macabre setting, this hanging corpse dressed all in white. Roars threaten to overwhelm not just the Catalian, but the very glade itself -- maybe even beyond -- and it's all Lionel can do to raise his rapier until it is even with his shoulders, tip tilted toward the creature ahead of him. Just then, the very forest itself begins to ensare him, and he relieves the tension in his muscles, easing himself into a flexible stance ready to spring him forward in any direction he chooses. And yet it seems there is no right choice; the vines are omni-directional. At least they snap and burn, as intended. Lionel is surrounded by a forest aflame, protected by this building maelstrom of fire which envelops him like a magical shield. He moves to thrust clean through the rising leg, but holds the rapier out with only his left hand, tapping into a pocket to retrieve a hidden dagger which he tosses skyward above him. Seemingly a suicidal move, when the knife descends it catches on a burning vine, triggering a greater fire when steel slices into vegetation laced with magical burning. This brings about a flash of light as a fire blooms forward into the very corpse seeking to strike the hero.

The flash would've worked... if she had normal eyes. A marionette's eyes is made out of wood, the only way she could see is through the plants around her, As her body is made out of flora, basically has no blind spot. But ofcourse the brain can only focus so much that it wasn't as effective as one would think. Her leg was soon struck by the man's sword, digging into the wood before she finally pulled away from him. As she was about to attack again, she saw her forest starting to burn causing the creature to roar once again. The children's laughter that filled the glade earlier was replaced with weeping, the flames easily illuminated the area making it visible that there are dolls hanging around, tied up in vines, watching from a distance. She glared down to her prey as her spider like legs crouched down to meet him in eye level before leaping forward. The strength of four limbs propelled her into the man with her right-front spider leg raises diagonally for a sweep.

Lionel grasps the hilt of his rapier and pries it out from the creature's humanoid leg as she pulls free, ripping through in his retreat. Narrowed eyes rapidly survey the effects of his fire and the imprisoned dolls across the terrain. But it's all the time necessary for Chisel to come forth; in that motion, Lionel, too, moves. Already limber from his relaxed stance, right leg bent amply at the knee, Lionel takes a single gallant leap back even as Chisel lunges, keeping distance parallel. Yet it isn't enough; one spidery leg finds its target, carving through the fiery shield -- no doubt suffering tremendous damage in the process -- to smack the hero clear across the shoulder. It elicits a cry of pain, and the man's backward leap transforms into a painful fall onto his back. He is fast again to his feet, rolling sideways and sending a second hidden dagger out toward the creature's cranium as he jumps upright and thrusts ahead with the rapier in an intended stab to the chest. Simultaneously, the forest fire intensifies, in tandem with Lionel's fears, all-consuming in its protective wrath.

Chisel watches as her spider like leg burns as it attempts to pierce through the man's shield. Though brute force eventually prevailed as the charred limb eventually got through and struck the man. The leg was actually supposed to be sharp to effectively wound her prey but the fire damage the aura caused blunted it. As her hind legs attempt to stand up again, the man was already on his attack, he threw his knife toward her head and lunges forward for the stab. The knife however dug into her wooden head for a few millimeters before finally falling off as underneath her wooden structure are a series of metal bracings to keep the marionette doll intact, protecting her head as her maker does not want to keep repairing and rebuilding the doll's gorgeous face. The sword however easily dug through the wood as the man was placing his weight behind it. Roaring as she 'reaches' for his wrist with her normal hands and the spider like creature takes a step back... then nothing. Staring at him as if wondering if the man is expecting something. The marionette has been treated on numerous chemicals to protect it from pests... and fire. Her spider body was burning however being this close to him. But now he is standing infront of her and if she was able to hold onto him, he is trapped. With her damaged yet working spider legs are raised upwards, about to strike from his back.

Lionel once again pushes and pulls on his chosen weaponry to break free of the creature's wooden construction, raising his arms up protectively over his head as the doll's humanoid hands reach out to grab. A quick twirl, then pirhouette, of his rapier -- now covered in splinters of wood and dulling at the tip -- is enough to handle human hands, keeping the striking Chisel at bay, but the silence which follows feels more foreboding. In blocking the thing's forward-facing hands and arms with a flurry of sword strikes, Lionel leaves himself considerably more open to assault from behind. Chisel's arachnid limbs should indeed find easy prey through Lionel's backside, and they zero in on him, but he lowers his head instinctually, sensing the great swoosh which follows any attack so sudden as Chisel's, and the thin silvery metal chainwork lining the man's chest inside his button-down black silk shirt is enough to stymy the brunt of the impact. Lionel spares a single thought to the dwarf Enkido, thankful now for his overly defensive style of tailoring. Still, he can feel blood upon his lower back; some of the spider-woman's blow has successfully struck true. Doubtless, bruising and an ugly little chip across the spinal cord has followed, for Lionel now jumps forward somewhat haphazardly, avoiding capture but slashing furiously, as he lunges *past* Chisel's hanging body. His goal: confuse the marionette as he moves in the very direction of an enemy who has him on the run, taking his rapier up in a ninety-degree arc to slice through that which holds the corpse in place. Simultaneously, the fiery magics which have surrounded him pool together their remaining power and funnel into something of a cyclone of pure pyromancy. This cyclone of flame thus hovers directly behind the man, and as he attempts to flee into burning glade several meters wayward of the corpse, it billows, intensifies, and threatens to swallow the thing behind him. Of Lionel himself, it can be said that he is sluggish in his intended escape, and leaning heavily. Pain throbs in his back, and he hopes his fire staves off the marionette for now...

Chisel didn't knew how blunted her spider legs was. Truth to be told, she is far more interested to ending her prey than thinking about it. The spider like part of her form was merely an attachment, something she could weave in mere hours and thus does not bother to care. She would have stabbed the man's back numerous times, even skew his form with her legs if only he had not burned off and damaged the tips. Though still leaving considerable amount of damage against him, he started to launch his counter attack with his sword, raising her normal hands to defend, leaving numerous marks against her fore arms. As chemical treating usually works on the surface of the wood and probably a few millimeters deeper, she started to catch on fire as the sword damages her, causing her to back up a bit. Distracting her as the man moved closer and slicing through some of the vines that held the cocoon on her back in place, making her spider part fall away from her body and dropping her to the ground. Still trying to extinguish the flames as the man began to use more fire to cover his exit. Her children continues to watch from the sidelines, soon enough they started attacking the man from a distance. His flame cloak would most likely protect him from projectile attacks but what else could they do? The forest air soon got filled with flying thorns from the dolls, all poisoned from various toxic plants of varying potency. The Marionette however had to back away from now, trying to extinguish herself.

Lionel rushes through the trees in search of the nearest clearing as best he can feasibly manage, his wounded backside sending searing flashes of pain through his upper body all-the-while. Assault from Chisel's legs has not poisoned him, but there is no time for the Catalian to verify this firsthand, and so the thought lingers in his mind like a poison of its own -- venom might be stinging its way through his blood, through his veins, and the nearest healer is doubtless kilometers wayward. Quietly, he curses himself for his shortsightedeness. There had been reports of strange beasts lingering in this region of the deep dark woods, but Lionel is, in a word, experienced. He'd thought not to come upon one so tenacious, so horrific, this close to Larket. If he survives, this will need to be dealt with. If he makes it to safety, he'll ready the troops, or perhaps judge this too dangerous for paid support and return here himself -- with Hellfire, not this chipped rapier. It's this that fuels his escape, up until the moment numerous toxic thorns fly into his flame cloak, shattering upon impact and sending bits of sickness-inducing particles dangerously close to him in the bursting. "Now I'm royally screwed," he mumbles to himself nigh-incoherently, as the scrambled images of seething children through smoke fills his vision. Lionel darts behind a burning tree, taking a deep breath and raising his rapier forth in a defensive procedure. The last thing he contemplates is his planned arc of descent upon the children, when in the explosive distance, a horse neighs in honorable assistance. Indeed, it is his trusted mare, come to her master as much from devotion as of instinct. He'd kept her near forest's edge, and now she's come to take him the rest of the way herself. The fallen hero hoists himself upon the horse just as she arrives, his cloak extinguishing in the doing, but two well-thrust thorns take the mare in the hindquarters before man and equine can truly escape. She wobbles, cries, and death may soon be upon her. Lionel cannot bear to think of it now, but he is safe through the clearing soon enough, there to investigate their wounds and file one nightmare of a report.

Chisel finally doused the flames over her wounds as tree sap started to excrete from her flesh, snuffing out the flames. As the forest begins to burn, the old trees started to move vines around, trying to protect themselves and coil the vines upon the flaming trees in an attempt to extinguish them. She roared angrily as defiling a forest may be the worst thing a man could do infront a dryad. She scans the area for her prey as saw him running off and taking a horse with him. Hidden in her dress, she pulls out a woodsman's axe and slowly walked toward the direction he is heading for. Vines began to slither toward her, connecting her back to the forest as it suddenly yanked her forward, dragging, reeling her in amazing speeds as she try to catch up with the man. Her dolls have been keeping up with his horse, all staring at him angrily and sending their thorns toward the man. For now only Chisel's roar could be heard from behind and she is easily catching up with the bloodied ax on her hand, glinting upon the moonlight.

Lionel needs only scant seconds to sense danger returning close behind him even as he flees. Although his mare picks up magnificent pace in her frantic trot, it is undoubtedly no match for a dark creature so attuned to the burning forest; the Catalian knows this, and knows, too, that the horse is wounded despite her best efforts to appear unscathed. It is with a heavy heart that he knows what must be done, and indeed it offers his faithful companion the highest chance of survival, too. A deep breath is taken, barely discernible beneath the sound and fury of Chisel's deadly ax-wielding approach. A single tap on the head, and his horse knows just what to do; she slows ever-so-slightly as Lionel leaps off-saddle, due west, and at first blush it would seem he's chosen to stand his ground against epic odds. In fact, his choice is to tap into Halycanos, the malevolent spirit with whom his fabled pact has reached such dizzying heights in form and technique. Despite coming to the glade unprepared, having left Hellfire at a certain location still a ways away, there are still several things the fallen hero can summon in a pinch. His flame cloak has renewed itself around his figure in time for the follow-up volley of toxic thorns from the so-called children, and he stands at the ready, unflinhing. Chisel closes in, steeling herself from on high; Lionel, too, steels himself, raising his rapier parallel to his shoulders at a slight slant horizontally. In a flash, a short, relatively harmless burst of flame comes surging up through the foliage near his footing, and the man does the unthinkable -- he charges straight toward his opponent despite her clear-cut aerial and environmental advantage. Even her weapon seems better for the cleaving, but Lionel is relentless in his motion, and it soon comes to pass that the Catalian is soaring through the forest at speeds equal to Chisel's own, that small burst of flame once at his feet now tearing through the ground and granting him this hasty favor. On and on he goes, and he speeds through trees like a madman, and it even appears he may no longer be on the ground -- the forest is a maze, and as fast as Chisel has proven to be, his constant zigzag patterns will seek to nevertheless confound. Once, he zigzags through a set of trees and seeks to slice through the vines carrying Chisel; then twice, this time from the east. Each time, he comes frighteningly close to her ax, and might need to defend against it, depending on her actions. On the second occasion, he lunges vertically, hoping to break through a large clump of vines and tear the creature asunder.

The horse won't take long to die.. an hour? two at most if one would predict. It is near impossible which toxin struck it. All her children uses different toxins and most varies with levels of potency, effects and duration. But it does not matter, death only awaits afterwards. The man chose to stand his ground, not that she cared about or anything, as the woman is too insane to bother about pride and honor... same with the cliche that the attacker may only attack one of the time as the children continued their barrage of thorns. Clearly it wasn't working though, the man's protective aura is burning off the thorns as they fly toward him. Is the children may be trying to wither down his mana pool? Probably.. or maybe they are just peppering him just because its the only thing they could do. Either way it doesn't matter. The Marionette chases down the man as he goes through the forest, Dueling with him in mid air, swinging her ax wildly as the forest reels her into direction whenever the man tries to counter attack and as each vine gets cut, another connect onto her back from a nearby tree. However his attacks and rocket... boots was burning the forest further and the damaged trees are too busy healing themselves to help her add more vines, soon enough leaving her with barely any. Soon enough her vines was taken down, falling numerous feet off the ground with a bone snapping sound due as her body clattered against the rocky surface. Instead of dying however, the badly mangled woman begins to stand once again, realigning joints and rotating limbs back into place, roaring. As now she no longer have vines to use, she searched onto herself for more conventional weapons. Chisels was soon thrown out with force, Her small, thin arms may look skinny but her muscle structure was basically a pulley system that mimics muscle movement, the stronger the pull, the harder the throw.

Lionel ricochets off of a nearby tree, then ricochets off of another, skidding in a bid to control the speed of his fiery tempest. His rapier has been further-weakened by the midair clashes with the insane dryad, and its structure is made all the more hollow when the Catalian inadvertently tacks it into old burning oak on the third and final ricochet, having surrounded her fallen form in a triangular snare. He, too, descends to the ground now, even as she begins her throws; mercifully, his cloak remains active, although the fires at his feet have been curtailed. Chisels are thrown, but an inferno consumes them, and yet some break through -- the creature's tremendous induced force is enough to rip through even Halycanos' magics multiple times, sending Lionel unexpectedly on the defensive. He stops one in its tracks with a quick downward slash, then he stops another with a skyward swing, and a third and fourth rip through his shielding but he bends at the left knee and twists his agile form eastbound to escape. Still a fifth cuts through and takes him in his right arm, sending sharp pain to the man and breaking his stance as he moves to wield his rapier one-handedly. Even as the creature scores a strike, Lionel is set to lunge, kicking off the ground in a jump but keeping his sword pointed straight at shoulder level in a bid to skewer the foe through the chest and then slice upward through the head, dismembering it if successful.

Chisel is in a bit of a disadvantage. The reason why she uses other ways of movement like the spider or the vines is because her body is too heavy for running. As soon as she was grounded, she began to rely on ranged attacks, roaring at the man's directing as if asking him to come closer for her to be able to ax him. She could already smell his blood as his wounds continue to drip. Turning to face him, about to swing her ax only to have a sword embedded to her chest. The man has already damaged her in a similar earlier attack but the same as before, wounding a tree would not kill it. However he has damaged the wood enough allowing him to attempt a cleave. The blade began to dig through her but was stopped by the shoulder line. Metal reinforcement. The sword did manage to damage her body further but instead of cleaving upward completely upto her neck then head, it stopped a few inches before it. She glares down at him, feeling the flames already seeping into the large gaping wound as she once more attempt to reach for him with her free hand and this time instead of a spider leg she raises her arm and swing her ax down onto him, attempting to kill her trapped prey.

Lionel has anticipated the metal, and can only hope further damage to the host body helps in the disabling of the threat this creature presents. His rapier is stuck, dangerously so, as Chisel's hand reaches out to grab. A sudden kick to the pelvis is all Lionel can manage, and it must be said that he didn't choose the pelvis for any strategic advantage; if there's one thing the Catalian has learned, it is that this is no human being he faces. Rather, this kick is as high up as he can muster on such short notice, and its intent is to free his damaged sword from his opponent's collarbone. He succeeds, and so he bounces backward, narrowly evading the hand that seeks to hold him in place, but his jump is only a half-meter in distance -- Chisel's ax swings true, and Lionel moves his left arm up above his head to block. His skull is saved, but his rapier shatters in two, having taken far too much damage by now. "What I wouldn't give for a nice big claymore right about now," Lionel speaks, and it's the first thing either of these mortal enemies have spoken in front of one-another, and the words are meaningless but the man is nothing if not vocal. He shouts in anguish, catching the all-steel segment of his broken blade with his wounded right hand as he darts to the side to avoid the ax's downward slice. In his left grip, a hilt attached to seven inches of ugly sharp metal. In his right palm, a bit bloodied by the holding, another ten inches of ugly sharp metal. In a desperate bid to end this dryad menace once and for all, Lionel knows only to leap into it full-force, and he motions to stab into Chisel's forehead with the piece of sword in his right palm, whilst simultaneously sending a sweeping horizontal slash into Chisel's hip with the remainder of his weapon. He's visibly winded, sore and unsure, but he will not yield.

As soon as the man pulls away from her and her strike was block, she reels in her arm for another swing. The sickening scent of boiling tree sap soon started to become apparent as the dryad extinguishes the flames inside her and at the same time, healing her wound. She growled at him and about to swing again but he climbed onto her form and started wailing his weapon against her frame, taken by surprise, unsure how to attack an enemy this close. His grip upon the blade however, compensated with the wound upon his palm and the blood easily making the dull blade slippery causes the blade to barely get and depth against the metal underneath her head. Her wooden body however welcomes any attacks as always, although the blade against her head starts to stagger her, her looking up to him as he places pressure against her neck, causing her to crane her body backwards. But this time the dryad did nothing. Staring at him for a good few seconds as if trying to wonder what the man was expecting to happen. His weapon is far too damage to leave any proper marks against the wood. Soon she began to spoke for the first time. However her voice felt unnatural, like hundreds of people speaking all at the same time from different age and gender, pitch, speed and tone. "a nice big claymore right about now." mocking him it seems. She continued to speak to him as she finally reached him to grab his clothes from behind. If she was able to reach him, She'll bring him into eye level before speaking once more. "a nice big claymore right about now." perfectly mimicking his voice before finally swinging her weapon again. She is already running out of time, not that she is aware of it or cares while in this state but the sun is already on the horizon.

It has all come down to this. Hero and dryad, man and marionette, lock forms in an all-or-nothing aim to utterly destroy one-another. The stench of burning birch barely registers, and yet the mimicking, echoing frenzy of Chisel's words strikes true upon the psyche. In the midst of battle, psychological warfare is as sharp as any other weapon. And yet, it may not have had the intended result. Azure eyes go crimson as Halycanos, the violent spirit within the man, senses defeat on the horizon and fully possesses the body. A sudden, inexplicable laugh is heard as Lionel seeks to stab repeatedly into the creature's hip with the hilted portion of his blade, no longer frenzied but now in full, astute control. Although it can be seen as clear as the rising sun on dawn's horizon that the man has nothing with which to defend against Chisel's looming ax. Rather than test his luck with pieces of a rapier, he simply, suddenly, relieves all tension in his muscles and collapses sideways, falling like a corpse nearly to the grass as the ax is swung overhead. It appears, for the briefest of moments, that Lionel has given up entirely. And yet, mere inches from falling to the ground and tasting dirt, a flame sparks and so-called "rocket boots" burst back into life, and Lionel adjusts his stance as he shoots wayward of the creature altogether. The entire action was a farce -- coming closer to Chisel was a ploy to launch pyrotechnics at even closer range. Lionel escapes the strike, and the billowing fire ahead of Chisel gains momentum and explodes, something like a miniature inferno, a makeshift bomb set to go off with Lionel's switch to long-range. It would consume the dryad in further fire if successful, at such proximity as to burn all the deeper into her woodcraft.

Chisel was weakening. Not that she is aware of or cares. But the wood is struggling to remain intact. Her swings have been too violent that her interior vines that mimics muscle through pulleys is getting damaged, either from the man's attacks, fire or her own. Pushing herself to its limits. The wood was also creaking, Still held however with the braces but would break away if she would not stop soon. Her swing misses once again but this time she almost fell over. Staggering as she try to stand properly, turning herself to the man as he began to strike once more. Unable to keep up with his speed, staggering her again and again before she could properly counter. But as she raised her arm again for a swing... something exploded. It was far too quick for her to see what was going on. All she knew was seconds later she was engulfed in flames and the shockwaves revibrated through the forest as her blazing form bounces across the forest into the field outside. Her limbs all mangled up, even tearing away her left arm and half of her right leg. She did not exactly catch on fire, but her clothes did. And the parts where her wounds are have burn marks against them. For all the man knew he has already won, with the dryad lying down, facing the earth as the sun slowly rises. So did she.

Lionel slams into the nearest tree, sucking the breath out of him as he falls to the ground, landing on one knee, panting and struggling to exhale. Just as quickly as it arrived, the red in his eyes vanishes, and all around him, the burning glade begins to becalm itself -- the gods themselves have begun with great wonder and might to intervene in the total destruction of this region, and next to them, even Halycanos has his limitations. At his feet, the last embers of Lionel's fire wither away, and up above, the trees are healed of the maelstrom but still too wounded to assist a dryad in combat. Dazed, it takes Lionel precious seconds to register that he has completely lost track of Chisel's whereabouts. Panic threatens to overwhelm him, but he regains his composure, limping forth and taking his healthy left hand to the last of the three daggers he'd brought to the forest. It's his only remaining weapon; it will be some time before he can draw from Halycanos' fires again. His lower back is bruised, his right hand is bloodied, and his head is throbbing with the migraines of a battle fought too long at too late an hour. And so he walks, slowly, through the forest, through toward the field. His dagger is held at the ready, blade tilted toward himself so that in a sudden parlay he can flick it forward reflexively. He investigates the charred wreckage of the magical bomb he'd detonated, and notes the probable trajectory of Chisel's launch. He follows it toward a clearing, uncertainly...

Chisel sat there, all smoking. Her parts were lying else where and if the man would move further to find her, she'll see her sitting there motion less. However as he did, something else moved closer, it was her children. Nearly two dozen of them moving... past him. They didn't even seem to care that he exist anymore. The dolls have their own flora attached onto their form with little vines allowing them to swing across the gap before finally landing and running across the field toward their mother. She sat there emotionless while the little ones cried, holding onto her. One of them even dragged along her the separated part of her leg. The arm was somewhere farther, same with her ax. She reaches for one of the dolls and started petting it. A simple gesture of affection. Soon as the sun finally reached her, the dryad began to combust. However not in normal flames. Smoke starts to erupt from her body as she started screaming loudly. The dolls started to move away, giving her a wide berth but not leaving her side. The woman continued screaming as her body begin to smoke up, flailing against the ground as she slowly reverts back to her original state. Forcing her body to violently heal. Plant fibers that mimics skin starts to grow onto her form, covering her body from head to toe, burnt hair begins to fall away, replaced with the original jet black one. Violently trembling as the sound of wood breaking becomes audible. Realigning any damaged parts as she continues to change state.

Lionel steps into a clearing as screams erupt through the air. There, surrounded by dutiful children daring to reassemble her, is the woman. Yet there is something otherworldly now. Perhaps it is more apt to say there is a newfound 'otherworldly'; whereas before, she represented death, now -- as she combusts and comes together anew -- Lionel feels a strange somberness. He can't help stepping almost reverently beside a tree. A single twig snaps as he leans, his dagger still held defensively. These 'children' had tried to kill him, too, but now they seem utterly transfixed on reviving her or revitalizing her or what ever it is that they are doing. It's all he can do to watch. There's really nothing more to his action. He keeps some ten meters wayward and holds firm to an alert stance. But he watches.

No one seems to care even as the man reveals his position. The worried children kept their place, though some of them clearly wanting to move closer to the dryad. The sounds of their woeful cries continues as the woman flailed in pain. Aching and groaning as skin continues to violently craw against her form, forcefully realigning any damaged parts. Though it may be 'fixed' back it place, it doesn't mean it is functioning properly yet. Few more minutes past as finally the woman stopped, leaving a smoking little crater to where she lie, her whole body does not appear like a doll anymore, covered with plant fibers mimicking skin but there is still the tell-tale gaps on her joints that she is indeed a marionette. Naked and unconcious as the woman ever so slowly began to grow clothes out of white silk, just like the one Lionel burned off. When this happened, the little ones converged onto her position, trying to wake her up, crying.

Lionel is a daring man. Even wounded, he's oftentimes demonstrated more boldness than intelligence; the miracle, of course, is that he's lasted twelve years in Lithrydel. As the woman spins silk out of the aether, he subtly approaches, calm and less threateningly than before. "I won't hurt her," he finds himself saying, a strange compulsion to give this form a chance. "Um, anymore," he adds on, awkwardly. His tone is soft, flat, and unintrusive. His countenance is fatigued but as prepared for conflict as can be, given his condition. He takes one hand to a canteen of water, drinks deeply of it and holds it out, should any of the children be in need. If, indeed, water is a thing any of these creatures ever need.

The children turned their heads as the man approached from the forest, hissing at him but instead of attacking, they created a defensive formation between the fallen dryad and Lionel. Some of them continues to whimper and cry as their mother lie motionlessly against the grass. These dolls were clearly embedded with some sort of plant life and been reborn with the help of the dryad. Now they follow her as their parent and the only reason why they are acting so defensively around him. As the man pulled out his canteen to take a drink and then offer it to them, one of the dolls hesitantly took it before bringing it to Chisel, though instead of making her drink it, the child emptied it against her body, soaking her clothes and skin. Though mere seconds later the water was quickly absorbed through her skin. Groaning and exhaling quietly as vines began to grow out of her severed leg and began to whip around trying to find the rest of the leg. As the children did bring it along earlier, it easily found what it was looking for then began reconnecting the damaged limb. Pulling it in and letting the plant resin restore any other destroyed parts in a slow pace. Soon enough the dryad opened her eyes and said, "M... My arm is missing..." then closing them again, clearly still too tired or damaged to move.

Lionel nearly resigns himself to the acceptance that these beings will not ford him the chance to assist when one of the children at last fetches the canteen. Even before the water is used in so unusual a fashion, the man is fairly certain he'll never hold that canteen again; here deep in the forest -- enemy territory, as it were, depending on how the dryad responds going forward -- it's dangerous for a mere mortal such as he to trek dehydrated. Still, there is this sour-noted sorrow as he observes Chisel's recreation. And then at last she speaks, and it's among the more peculiar things Lionel has ever heard, but a wistful remorse fills the Catalian nevertheless. Something is awfully amiss here; the creature of the night is a clear and present threat, but the woman who remains is as-yet unclassified. With a sick twist of his stomach, Lionel realizes he has spotted her arm not far from his current position. "Here," he says, holding his hand up as a hopeful gesture of peace to the children as he slowly, methodically, trots forth to fetch it and hand it to them.

She did not 'exactly' attacked her because of the water, there are plenty to be had underground, although a person's blood is also rich of it. Groaning as she turn to her side, "Most of my chest cavity is missing..." she doesn't remember what exactly happened but the man did quite some damage with her torso, causing quite a chunk of wood falling away and the only thing keeping it together is the metal braces. At this moment, resin was filling in the gap which will eventually turn into wood but it won't be as durable for the next couple of weeks. Coughing as she opened her eyes once again, seeing her crying children as they moved ontop of her, Smiling at them as she reaches to pet them, "No.. No.. don't cry... Mommy is here..." trying to console them as she still can't move. Hearing another person speak, she turned her head to the wounded man, she could only guess that he was the unlucky person that found her tonight. She could only look upon him sorrowfully, unsure how to explain herself.

Lionel seems oddly poised. There's no limit to the obvious nature of his physical wounds, but azure eyes look upon the woman in total calmness. What runs through his mind at this darkest of dawns? Is he preparing to attempt a killing blow? Is he weighing his options? Or is it possible that he senses just cause for genuine compassion? The stale moment breaks as the fallen hero speaks. "I need to know everything you can tell me about what manner of creature you are. Difficult choices present themselves to me now. Why do you haunt this glade? What purpose is there in striking me? Is it revenge? Do you serve in honor of some foe I've slain? Or do you seek out those far more innocent than myself as well? If so, things are not going to be easy between us." He pauses, straightening. "But if there's a way to curb your... enthusiasm, or if there's something reasonable which can be done to satiate your need to assail, I'll assist."

As soon as the man comes over and brings the arm, the children reached for it and brings it right next to the woman aligning it with the missing socket as vines slowly grew toward it, reeling it it and reconnecting the damaged limb. Though hidden underneath the veil of fake skin, she knows herself that her body has numerous cracks within the wood. She'll need to heal for a while. Closing her eyes as she replied, "The first thing came in mind is... 'Why do you need to know? Its like there is anything you can do about it' But then again, the wounds upon your body is enough to tell me that you are the unlucky one who found me last night.. I guess you atleast have the right to know after experiencing all of that..." As soon as her arm reconnects completely, she raises it and flexed her fingers alittle, skin started to grow from her shoulder and finally covering the limb itself. "I am a dryad... a spirit of the forest... My... Corpse has been defiled by a craftsman, turning me into a marionette." She spoke as she stared at her hand where the joints are far more visible. "As you may have noticed, Last night, I don't have a skin to cover my body... everyday.. every afternoon it happens... As.. As the light fades at sun down, Due to my torture, My body fails to store sunlight, making it impossible for me to maintain my skin. Pain soon enough surge into me as my body is exposed to the very air, sending me into insanity." She doesn't know if the man would believe her, not that she cares enough, she knows she can't die even if he tries.

Lionel has seen many things in his time. He's fought many brands of beast. And he's stood against many manners of curse. Brows wrinkled in quiet consternation, he exhales sharply into a sigh and unceremoniously seats himself cross-legged several meters wayward of the dryad. "I see." The Catalian balls his left hand into a fist to nurse the pain flaring upon his arm wounds, an old form of meditation once taught to him by a vagabond acolyte of a religion he can't currently recall. "It isn't for my sake that I ask. For over half my life I've been a defender of the fragile peace in this realm -- or in wartime a defender against the threats which openly challenge it. There was a time in which I rallied actively against this simple fact, but I've since accepted that my core role in life will always be thus." Another breath. Lionel begins to fasten a simple bandage around his elbow, drawn from a hole in the belt which hangs from his hip. He bites viciously at the fabric to cut off an appopriately-sized piece, then continues to speak. "Is this misfortune of yours bound by a magic the effects of which could be reversed? Is it some spell that can be undone? Point me to this craftsman, dryad, and I will do what it takes."

Chisel started chuckling, sarcastically, though her voice was laced with pain and hopelessness. "I have tried... everything..." Closing her eyes as she try her best to contain her emotions. "Unless you could find a way to keep the sun from setting, only my death would save me and everyone else... Sadly though, death does not work properly with dryads... Especially someone like me who has already died once. As I have told you earlier, I have died before I was even born and due to such my tree no longer knows I exist, making it impossible for me to find it. That tree is my only ticket to ending this nightmare..." sitting up as she reached for her dolls who had been worried about her, she coo'd at them and picked up one before petting it. "I am a dryad, destroying my physical body right now would only release my spirit... If that happens.. What do you think would be the chances that I'll infect a whole forest?"

Lionel shakes his head curtly. "I see your point." The man remains calmness embodied. He shifts in his cross-legged seat upon the grass-blotched dirt and for another long and sorrowful moment he says nothing. This is not the Lionel most see. Perhaps this is the real Lionel. The man who does not mask his own substantial pain via cynical facade. "Do you suppose this tree is in Lithrydel?" It's all he asks.

"I have searched everywhere... Going to any old tree and ask, 'Are you my tree?'." she suddenly stopped as if her heart just skipped a bit, feeling the pain inside her, grunting as she try her best not to cry, conserving as much water as she can so she could leave this forest. "When someone doesn't know that she had a child in the first place... how could one know the answer?" she grunts as she try to stand up, though aching and trembling to the enormous damage she has taken. "I... I have harmed someone in this forest, I would need to leave soon.." though clearly she is in no condition to move. "Please don't help me... you have seen what I turn into, your emphaty would only leave further ache in me if one day I wake up standing beside your corpse."

"I'm in no position to make any promises, it would seem." Lionel rises from his perch and begins to step wayward of the woman. "Even so, I am going to try. This can be remedied. The very fact that there is a potential cure-all for the situation at hand compels me to seek that cure. I can send others to help relocate you. I'm aware of course that come nightfall we'll be tasked with a similar predicament. All I can say is that I have access to a somewhat more vast network of knowledge banks than most men. Through them, I will research. Through research, I may yet be able to help. And I'll apologize in advance if it should come to pass that you one day awaken standing over my corpse. But life is full of dangers and I've outlived more than my fair share as-is. Sooner or later, fate is going to catch up with me one way or the other."

"You appologize even though I am the one who is supposed to be doing so.." Grunting quietly as she try to stand.. she can't. "I can see that I have wounded you.. you should get yourself patched up. For me.. I could feel so much cracks and missing parts on my wood. I don't think it could support me to stand... I need to let my body rest for a few hours." The children soon left them, clearly to get some water for her. They could use their little leaves to construct a simple container for water. Chisel on the other hand turned her head to the man and said, "Finding me would only bring you pain... at nightfall, I lose all sense of sanity in me... and I'm pretty sure trying to talk me out of it would not save you or your people. I've been cursed to walk these lands alone, same reason why I made my little dolls. To cure myself? if only I could find my tree... atleast I could ask it how... or actually kill it.. and myself. Other than that.. unless you could stop the sun from setting, there will be no escape for me with this nightmare."