Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lornaine Forest

The spellsense would flare wildly, as both bear and fox radiated magic in excess, though it was not like the spells of the more restrained magics of mages. It was wild, but in a very natural way, as if it were simply an extension of the will of each creature. The fox perked up, ears swiveling forward and looking downstream at the wolves. its eyes flared with a brief amber light, the markings along her side flushing with a slight golden color before it faded. The body of the fox rippled and then elongated. It stood on its hind legs for a moment, the process of shifting shape completing as it did so. Beside the bear stood the druid Aoife, her eyes narrowed at the pack.
 
Though Loumère's lips did not move, a demanding, husky voice boomed up toward both animals. "Who are you?"

The other wolves swarmed defensively around Loumère, some of which were nearly as large as the bear. They gave low growls as warning- don't come closer! Go away!
 
Aoife shifted her weight to one hip, the black t-shirt she wore covering the dark teal tattoo she had over her right side, her pants covering much of the rest. All the was easily visible would be the ink on her right arm. She folded her arms over her chest, frowning.

"Oi cud ask ye the same thin', Mage. Oi'm a guardian av dees woods, av lornanine. Self-appointed, perhaps, but only when blatherin' among humans an' other bipedals. The earth moves through me, an' oi with 'er. Ahm Aoife O'Mag, an' may the earth 'erself save yer if she wants ya ta live, for you've soiled me forest by bringin' out that manticore." Her voice had an accent to it, but it was more than understandable. She didn't step any closer, but her displeasure at what had happened, and what Loumere was, would be more than evident in her speaking.

"Now why don't ya go ahead and show yerself, Mage. Ya smell different from yer pups here anyways, so trackin' ya would be more than easy fer Cedar and me here." She smirked, trying her best ot cover her nervousness. She may dislike organized magic such as wizardry and witchery, but she'd be damned if it didn't scare her sometimes.
 
The skin of the wolf melted from the witch's body in a clump of fur, leaving behind a thin, gray-skinned young woman with a head of silvery hair. She was gaunt, unhealthily so, and her mannerisms lacked something that was supposed to distinguish her as human. It wasn't intelligence- that was there, but it was somehow different. Her stare wasn't just angry, it was almost evil.

"You would be mistaken in thinking this forest is yours," growled the witch, her voice like crushing gravel. "You should respect the covens established here."
 
"An' why should Oi be concernin' mahself with those who don' respect the land around 'em? Coven or no, desecratin' Lornanine be one way tah bring me out." The druid patted her great bear to worst him, as he'd started to grumble quietly. She stepped away from the beast, leaving it to snuffle after her, feet splashing in the water.

"So then, who are ya? Yer no beast or woman Oi've seen around since gettin' here earlier in the year."
 
"This isn't Iverian territory. It does not concern you. The Iverians did not come to Lutetia's aid when it mattered. Why do you care now? You've revoked your right for Lornaine to be yours!" she growled. She was speaking of an event a thousand years before their time, when the necromancers from Tiranoth joined the Monastic Order joined together to defeat the monstrosities of the land that eventually became Lutetia. The Iverians had denied the Order help. They weren't entirely wrong to do so.

She did not answer Aoife's second inquiry. It mattered not.
 
The druid's eyes widened slightly in surprise and slight frustration. The blasted woman was rambling, and possibly insane. Iveria and Lutetia had been on reasonably good terms for her entire life, regardless of who owned what.

"Ya think Oi'm 'ere to claim the forest fer Iveria? Yeh've got ta be daft then. Oi don't stand fer any government, save the laws o' nature herself." Aoife reached down to the ground, touching a few fingers in, before pulling her hand back. As her hand rose up, a thread of amber light connected her to the ground. A moment later and the light has become hard to see as dirt and stone rose from the soil to surround the thread, spiraling gently in the air.

"After all, Oi'm a bloody druid. What more could ya be expectin'?"
 
"Oh, how cute. You think that just because you have delusions of your magic making you any more entitled to this land, that you can just ignore the powers around you like a stubborn brat? Oh, you will learn, child of earth. And I hope to witness it."
 
"And Oi suppose yer thinkin' ta be the one to teach me, hmm?" She scoffed, blowing a small raspberry as she did so. "Sure ya are. Why wouldn't ye be? After all, Oi only wanted ta figure out why yer here, and maybe what the bloody hell is goin' on outside the forest, but you decided to be so cryptic." She shook her head, the amber light trailing from the ground to her hand fading, causing the swirl of debris around it to fall to the ground with soft thuds.

"But maybe ye don't know anythin' after all, an this was nothin' more'n a bit of a goose chase," she added, a snide smirk lifting her lips.
 
"Me? Oh, no. That wouldn't be my fight, no. I try to stay away from even my own kind unless I'm asked otherwise."

She started to back away, the pack in tow. "The spell in the forest is corrupt magic. I'm sure the covens will seal it. I must spread the news. Farewell, child."
 
Aoife watched the woman walk off, frowning. Corrupt magic in her forest, she'd said. The druid had thought something had been out of sorts, and it was that feeling that had gotten her to become so much more active as of late, but she hadn't expected that it was drastic enough to encompass the forest as much as it did. Unfortunately, a druid like Aoife had few outside contacts, choosing the life of a hermit more often than not. She sighed and walked back up to Cedar, patting him lightly on the shoulder.

"You guard the hearth, Cedar. Oi've got a bit of an errand to run." The bear snuffled at her side, as if concerned. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. If ya need help, just ask Aspen. She'll help ya, to be sure. And don't ya dare be worryin' about me. I'll do mah best to drop mah accent. Now, off with ya." She smiled and pushed on him, barely moving him at all, before leaping forward and shifting back into the fox form she'd held before. As much as she hated the thought of what she needed to do, she knew she wouldn't find out enough just sitting around at home.

She'd have to head into the city itself.
 



Abel and Coralie both experienced the same sensation, billowing smoke as far as the eye can see, yet so dense that ones own hands couldn't be seen, yet the air was crisp and clean unlike Lutetia City's light smog. They still felt hands grasping each other, even if they could not see it. Lachapelle was still being pulled along by the ankle, with an unknown hand grasping his leg. Somehow, both he and Duval would feel no threat from their journey. This was not a hand dragging them under to drown, this was someone pulling them to the surface. What that entailed, neither could be sure.

When they emerged, the sunlight was blinding. There was be no sound of explosions, no stench of flames and death, no chaos. Instead they found themselves outside of Lutetia City, at the edge of a great forest. The treeline was chokingly thick, the average person could see no farther than thirty yards into it from the outside. A faint thrum of mystical power seeped from every tree. There was no mistaking it, they had found themselves in Lornaine.

Two figures loomed over them, both clad in black. One bore a staff, a wide-brimmed hat and piercing silvery eyes, and the other held a long pipe and wore a porcelain mask. They would immediately recognize both as guests at the Arodrings' party, and Abel in particular felt a chill shoot down his spine upon seeing the latter witch. The one in the mask spoke first. Her voice was crystal-clear, albeit slightly muffled from the false visage.

"Are either of you injured?"
 
The Madrys

Alarms rang out across the screen. LOW FUEL! LOW FUEL! These alarms streamed out over the ship's consoles. The Madrys, as Sari had named it, flew loud and proud over the empty forests of Lutetia. Finding a clearing barely a hundred meters across, Sari carefully lowered the torn up starship down.

Metal grated, singing out, as long, thick landing gear were extended to the ground. Steam, from the ship's cores, was released into the surroundings. With a thud, The Madrys made contact with Lutetian soil. Pressing into the soft dirt, Sari's ship made a light indent in the soil.

Removing the ship's control helmet and gloves, Sari's mechanical blue eyes travelled over her surroundings. Cursing herself for running out of fuel, Sari stepped out of the ship. Her long coat wrapped around her waist, the black length of her dress visible between the lower flaps of her coat. Shapely legs could be seen all the way down to shin-high combat boots. Pale skin, beautiful like porcelain, adorned the android, making a striking contrast with her jet black hair.

Electric blue eyes scoured the landscape. Tree tops, scorched by the steam, stood like silent sentinels, guarding The Madrys. Sighing, the android turned around, hands on her hips, wind whipping at her hair and coat. Little damage could be seen on the hull, merely a few scraps and scrapes.
 
"Wick and Willow, Nut and Cherry..."

A voice cooed from the trees, carried on the edge of the wind. It rustled through leaves of oak and elm, whipping Sari's coat around her legs.

"Ash and Ember, Elderberry..."

A face peeked out from behind a tree, staring at the curious girl who was not quite human, not quite machine. His face was covered in a wooden mask bearing eyeholes and a nose.

"Who comes to gloomy Lornaine from the sky?" he called out, his voice young and curious, "and why does she hurt my trees?"
 
Sari looked around, her ears having heard voices. The machinery, the code, in her mind began to process the sounds, turning them into a language she could understand. 1's and 0's, binary flowed through her thoughts.

Turning around once more, her unnatural eyes caught sight of a face. Wooden with eyes and a nose.

"I have heard that it is polite for one to give their own name before asking the name of another." Responded the android. THen, looking at the damaged trees around her, she responded to the thing's second question, "As for your trees. I held no intention of hurting them. They are damaged yes, but they will regrow. They are not dead."

Stepping down the ship's extended ramp, Sari began to walk towards the little creature. "Why do you hide yourself? Please, if you would, show yourself."
 
The creature stepped forward. He looked to be a child - no taller than 5'5", thin in the bones. His skin was a dark mossy green, marbling into shades of brown and blue near his joints. His face was not visible, hidden beneath the mask.

"My name?" the mask tilted at a curious angle, "that is a difficult question. I suppose I can give you name I was given by the first people who taught me to speak this language. Polyglot."

He stepped around her, looking her up and down with short, twitchy motion - reminiscent of a bird. "If I burned your arm, then the skin might heal, true... but you would not be happy with me, yes?" His feet shuffled. "What is your name?"
 
Sari watched as the boy-thing walked around her. His words were curious, were they not?

"Curious choice of words. No, my skin would not heal, not naturally in any case. Yes, I would be unhappy with it as fixing my body is quite a hindrance." Sari stood only an inch taller than the masked boy, though that single inch definitely gave her a feeling of superiority. Damn, she was loving being free.

"My name is Sari. What are you? Why are you here at my ship?" Sari asked these questions. She did not like suspicious people and had lost Holderlin when she defected.
 
A small warble sounded from the mask - somewhere between birdsong, river babble and a child's laughter. "Here at your ship? Why is your ship in the middle of my home? That is the better question, no?" He pointed to the shuttle. "Forge and metal. Iron and light. We don't get many of those things around here. This is the forest of Lornaine. Nature rules here - not machine."

Polyglot shuffled around Sari, crouching beneath one of the trees singed with flame. He touched the trunk - green light shooting out from the cracks in the bark. At once, the fires died, dead leaves showering to the ground as new foliage sprouted forth.

"Oak and amber. Ocean's might." He looked back at her. "You are very lost, aren't you?"
 
Gritting her teeth, Sari heard what the boy was saying. "I am not lost, Polyglot. I have merely ran out of fuel." Sari followed the boy to the tree, extending her right arm. It looked different than the rest of her. Instead of smooth, porcelain skin, her right arm was made up of black steel, polished metal. Her hand brushed up against the tree, the palm against the trunk. She could feel all the tiny little grooves in the bark.

"Your home...?" Sari was confused. She had never heard that word, and it was bothering her. "What is a home little one?"
 
"I suppose it is where one lives," Polgyglot responded, looking up at her, "and the place one misses most while living somewhere else." He examined the ship next, shuffling beneath the wingspan, eyes wide with wonder. "This is a marvelous machine. I only wish I knew how it worked." He jumped and tried to grab hold of the metal. "I can hear many voices in this one."

The sprite glanced over his shoulder. "You'll find no fuel here. The City might have some. They have most everything, if you look hard enough."
 
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