A Song Just Beginning
Twenty-Sixth Day of the Twelfth Month 292 AC
Seeking the Children of the Forest you find that Alinor has offered them the highest guest chamber in the keep, which they had insisted on sharing, arguing that being small they would have little cause to spread out into rooms meant for men. As much as you can guess the motives of such odd beings you would think they desired to stay together in such unfamiliar environs.
As dozens of golden eyes peer a your from the twilight of the chamber you realize that their bearers are quite agitated for some reason, not fearful or wary... perhaps restless.
"Filled with wonder is the world of man," Soft Strider says with the aid of a blessing of tongues. "But also filled with the comings and goings, noise like a rushing river through the mountains fit to carry song and singer forever into the sea. Though the desire to look upon these workings fortifies me against the din my fellows are not so fortunate..." A small sigh. "Even the peace of the Godswoods is given over to the swift song of man and rightly so for these are realms for man to live in and those who would dwell as he does, but our hearts are moved to softer slower tides."
"You would desire a godswood for your own to live in, somewhere beyond the city and its distractions but near enough that you may visit?" you try to untangle the riot of a metaphor.
"Just so it is, these strange warm lands have not seen our like in many an age but once when the forests were wider even here did we walk, before the Hammer of the Waters struck in desperation," she replies.
"Is it only the coming of man that drove you do grow so few and to hide away your faces from the sun?" you ask, struggling for some approximation of her manner of speaking so as not to seem 'hasty' in an already bewildering world.
"There were never many of us though our years are long and so each loss hurt us deeply. As we were scattered as seeds upon the wind, so too did the tribes that were kindred lose each other and many withered for they had no mates to choose but their siblings." You could swear the slow blink she gives you is embarrassed, but you do not comment.
"What of you who have dared the journey? Does your blood flow too close?" The magics of the flesh-smiths might offer an answer to that riddle, you think, though of course the greater question is would they break the dictates of the Old Gods even so?
"We are far enough in blood that there is a chance, though a slender one, that we might in time grow in numbers," Soft Strider replies to your relief. "For guesting and a home where we might rest we can offer but little I fear, strength and skill in the wild, and whatever small songs we might in time come to sing with the gods."
Children of the Forest Trait Discovered: Guardians of Nature: Given enough time any of the Singers may become Rangers or Druids through communion with the Old Gods.
"Would you desire to learn also the magics of man?" you ask
"To sing the songs of your kindred... I am not sure if such a thing can be done, but," a soft smile passes her lips. "Given enough time living side by side I am certain someone will attempt it. To be curious is what separates the Singers whether they sing in the True Tongue or not from the plants and the beasts that know only the Song of their being."
What do you reply to Soft Strider's request?
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OOC: Sorry this took so long. Trying to convey nervousness through the lens of an alien outlook is tricky.