Place of Power
Twenty-Sixth Day of the Twelfth Month 292 AC
You see nothing objectionable about Soft Strider's request, indeed you feel a measure of relief to know the Children of the Forest removed from what must to them be the alien dangers of human civilization. A more gradual re-knitting their fellowship with man would be best you think. Thus do you fly from the tower over the city and beyond it seeking a place where they may be at peace.
Night comes and clouds chase each other across the heavens, veiling the light of stars and waning moon, yet still you seek, not only with a dragon's eyes to pierce the shadow, but with the staff Bloodraven gifted you. Just as you had called the powers of the air to challenge the Foe of All That Lives in its domain, so too now do you coax the earth to speak its secrets to you, pouring the fires of your magic into the living wood. Leaves whisper at your passing, stones shake, and tiny streams burble words half understood.
There is the Water of Life, the Water of Forgetfulness hidden in the blossom of the earth, some voices call and you know that there lies the cave where Vee harvests the strange moss that can steal memories from a man's mind.
Here has risen the pillar of fire and burnt stone, others whisper, and there indeed you see a pillar of smoke and know that Lya has finished the great smelter that will arm and armor your legions. Yet you do not waver from your path for there is something more, the faintest tug upon the staff in your hand, less than those whispers as that would be less than the roaring of a fire-mountain spewing forth its wrath...
old.
Perhaps it is merely a fancy, but if that is so, then at least you would have stretched your wings, you tell yourself then as you fly between a pair of hills standing like silent sentinels to a natural gate. On their heights you see trees, though small and twisted they had endured the woodsman's axe much better than their more fortunate brethren, for what would-be shipbuilder would dare the treacherous slopes for such merger rewards? Looking more closely upon the lines of the hills something niggles at your mind. Where the rains had washed away the soil you see that the edges are wrong, broken
across the layers of stone not along them as is natural, as though by some titanic force long ago.
Soft Strider's words come back to you:
The Hammer of Waters called down in desperation... Is this some small hint of that ancient catastrophe? you wonder as you walk between the hills, staff in hand. Then you stop entirely, as though rooted to the spot, not daring to believe your eyes. You blink once, twice.... the great white tree is still there.
Bare of leaves and standing utterly alone at the meeting of two small streams between its roots stands an ancient weirwood tree. Hastening to it, you find it not only dead, but turned to stone. Yet upon its bark can still be seen by eyes that know to seek it at least, the faint outline of a face. That is what you had felt... like calling to like even after all these many ages, as a whisper from the grave. A grave might yet be a cradle again.
Discovered Ancient Petrified Weirwood Tree
The cawing of a crow startles you from your thoughts, the bird landing in the very branches of the dead tree. "Did you know this would be here?" you ask. After all, there is no one here to see you talking to birds if this is indeed merely coincidence.
The bird peers at you a moment longer then slowly, deliberately shakes its head. Then it strikes the truck with its beak thrice as though trying to carve into it before wheeling off eastwards.
What do you do next?
[] Watch the smelter opening
[] Speak to Leila about her place at your court
-[] Write in
[] Help Dany make your mother feel welcome in her new home
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: Of all the places to roll a nat 100 I was not expecting that.