Baeliar Forest (Part 1)

[Jones]

Christian III GreySeerer Once, the roads to Baeliar Forest were numerous and constantly cared for. Trading caravans passed beneath the towering redwood trees daily, taking the day-long passage beneath its peaceful watch, admiring the size and strength each tree held all on its own, reaching towards the heavens high above with beautiful out-stretched limbs. Lush green leaves sprouted from the branches, creating a sort of natural roof which thickened during the course of the spring and summer seasons. Night or day, the forest was admired by the passing of people and travelers who always preferred taking the roads that snaked through it. It was a merry place, and oftentimes a merry gathering of peoples who usually did not take the time to interact among one another outside the forest. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer To the North lies the Town of Baeliar. Baeliar was a famous warlord who'd taken control of the surrounding lands for miles around, and had been quick to name the surrounding forests, lakes, and villages after himself, before he was shortly put to death by a wandering Necromancer. This particular Necromancer hated ~merry~ places, and waking up one morning, grumpy, he swiftly carried out the execution of every villager in Baeliar, including Baeliar himself, and then tainted the land with curses. After that, he was gone, and left the survivors of his cruelty to an ultimate demise. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer Floods were common south of the forest while droughts happened just as often north of the forest. Pestilence and diseases spread throughout the populace and trading caravans that passed. And finally...the lush forest which many had said was blessed by the Gods, turned into ruin. Fires erupted, destroying a section here and there. Some of these enormous trees just withered and died, for no reason at all. The roads cracked and turned hazardous. Predatory beasts of horrible power and skill in the art of killing came from no where and began living in the forest, attacking the people who passed through it, and killing off the creatures who had made a home in it. In the end... the forest, the ruined town, and all and everything of Baeliar was given up for lost. The forest was forgotten and left to the evilness which inhabited it. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer ... Years have passed since then. Decades. Centuries. - Christian received the tale of the forest's history from the mouth of aged people who had lived here during those times and had survived the evil by escaping to towns far to the West. It was a wonderful story in this day of age, and the elderly reveled every minute in the telling of the tale. And although he was warned to not approach the tainted region, Christian's curiousity got the best of him and he made the necessary preperations to visit. A backpack, which would hold a months worth of food and water. A shovel. A dagger (just incase). And he always had his cloak pockets-filled with the necessary herbs that held a variety of uses. For healing. For trouble with sleeping. For helping to think more clearly. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer The gravel of the old road crunches beneath his black-booted feet. The fresh and gentle wind he had enjoyed on the way here was gone. Blocked by the dead but still towering trees on either side of him. As he looked around him, moving deeper into the forest, he came to the conclusion that he was not walking in Baelion Forest... but in a wasteland of destruction, disease, and death. And although one would say he was in danger, he could not feel the presence of the evil. He did not feel threatened. .. He was convinced that whatever the Necromancer had called forth to cause the terrible tragedies had long since been lifted away.. All that was left was the skeletal frame of the forest's wonder... and destruction. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer No bird sang. He looked up, and the blue sky of a clear day was clearly seen. The branches were leafless. The trees.. all blackened, or ruptured by past disease. The ground was soiled and muddy. Grass grew and pressed upward through the deformitys of the once cared-for road. .. Christian continued upon the lonely path, feeling more and more lost and depressed by the sights around him. And he would've turned around and given up his curiousity for the place to flee back toward untainted countrysides when he saw... one tree. Short, and yet as old as the others around it. It too held all the same ruptures of disease and burns of fires but... he could.. ~sense~.. a life from it. He could tell it was not dead like the others. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer Christian, in his flowing green robes, setting his backpack down upon the ground beside him, kneeled before the tree and let his green eyes gaze over its pains and wounds. Was there something he could do for it? Where was the life coming from? His hands ran down over the trunk, over the ground before it, gently moving across its branches... searching... wondering.

Deamon Damphir Baeliar Forest. What a familiar place this was indeed. It had been many, many centuries since his being has last came to this place. When was it? Oh, so long ago. That Necromancer... ah yes... the one that sought power through giving his soul to a daemon; giving his soul -him-. Such fond memories of the death and destruction that insued at this place. More had happened here than local legend would tell; more had happened here than people were willing to tell. But everyone, well, everyone from the area KNEW what had happened in that forest, on that day. The day the ground was torn asunder, and the legions of undead, followed by their daemon masters, and even a Prince of the Underworld himself arose from the cracks; besieging the land with strife and chaos, until nothing was left. "Ah hahahaha..." A black wind carried a sinister laugh upon it's wake; just gently whispered, but prominant non-the-less. Once more Baeliar would see the power... the might of the great Underworld below. Near the center of the forest was a great clearing. Though the land around it would have healed somewhat, this area was still scarred as if it were still that very day. The mere essance of evil could be felt flowing up from the cracks in the great crust of the Earth...

Deamon Damphir ... From one of these cracks, a molten lava spewed forth, sending waves of ash, rock, and red liquid into the air. It landed, and melted, and burned away at the very soil that it touched; scarring the land further. But soon, that lava flow would intensify. It was like a great gyser, erupting with a might not often seen outside of a volcano. Such force would cause the ground around the central blast zone to rip further; massive cracks ripping the ground into pieces and allowing even more of the firey liquid through to the surface. This lava would flow forth like a wave, searing all in it's path. As the hole in the earth widened, more lava would spew, and from the center a figure would come into form. Slow, it rose out of the firey pits of Hell to once more grace the land with his being. The black wind would rush forth, filling the forest with a sweeping wave of air; knocking over anything weak of structure. As the figure arose, his mighty form would come into the view of the world. The beast's entire body was covered with a thick, onyx colored carapace...

Deamon Damphir ... It looked as if it were armor, being finely crafted and extreme ornate in sight; yet it had a more organic sense to it. The carapace covered the creature's every well-toned muscle as if it were merely skin. This covering included his feet, which actually looked something like other-worldly boots; the black armor twisting around toes, tipped with razor sharp claws. The same held true for the hands of the beast; talons erupting from the ends of it's fingers. The being's shoulders protruded massive spike-like structures, which were either used as a weapons, or to intimidate... maybe both. But what was more, wing sprouted from the shoulder blades; also covered by the onyx hide. Up and around the creature's neck it went, stopping just at his chin. Thin pieces of the armor continued up the sides of the face, however, and came together in a sort of ornate, jeweled circlet around the daemon's forehead. In stark contrast to the obviously inhuman body, the creature's face was surprisingly humanistic. The only oddities would be the completely white skin, and the large fangs protruding from the beast's mouth...

Deamon Damphir .. It's eyes were something else entirely. They were completely black, with red, orange, and yellow shots running from the sides to the pupil. White hair flowed freely from the beast's skull, reaching down just past it's knees. "Ha ha... Baeliar..." The daemon took a stop forward, though it was hovering above the base of the ground as is. " Coromont, arise..." From the break in the Earth, a horse lept; seemingly from under the earth. Of course, it was the creature's warsteed. And what a steed it was! It was you common skeletal horse, though several times larger than any Earthen-born breathern; and it's body was clad with a dark armor very similar to the daemon's own carapace. Slowly, the creature mounted his steed, and with a straight back, reared it; a daemonic howl eminate from the warsteed, and out into the surrounding forest. Baeliar's dark curse had once more ascended into being. The Daemon Lord, Damphir, had returned.

[Jones]

Christian III GreySeerer It was a thing clinging to life. - Christian sighed, looking at the tree with sadness. "Dear thing.." he muttered softly, running his hands over its roots. "..You cling to life with an iron hand. How can I help you?" From the depths of his cloak pocket, he brought forth a small bag filled with a kind of salve. Dipping his hand into it, he continued to apply it to the ruptures in the tree's trunk. Deft. Gentle. His hands moved carefully across various wounded areas of the tree, applying salves and herbs which would only stop pain, and the further continuation of its demise. "Yet I cannot heal you." He fell back to sit on his heels, his shoulders sagging as he glanced at the chaos around him. "I cannot heal any of you." For all his attempts, Christian was as helpless in aiding life as he had been living day to day in his cabin back in the GreySeerer lands. It was a depressing thought. Was it a year or more now that he had given up his home, and chosen this life? To take the role as a wandering druid and wouldbe healer? Sad really, considering he could not even heal a tree. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer Christian was prepared to depart, convincing himself he had seen more than enough of the tragic phenomena that had befallen Baeliar Forest. But before he could even retrieve his backpack and go on his way.. the awareness that something of pure evil had arrived seared through his mind, setting off alarms in his brain and body so that he immediately tensed. One hand shot beneath his robes to grip the handle of his dagger. The other, prepared to access a different type of herb in his lower right pocket. His eyes burned brightly, and they gazed in the direction the evil aura seemed to radiate from and watched...while he stood still and silent. Waiting.

Deamon Damphir Death, if such a thing could be measured in such a place, flowed forth from the hooves on Damphir's might warsteed. Coromont took slow stride forward, lazily gazing around at the surroundings. Baeliar forest was dead far before Damphir had arrived this time. It had been dead since before he had even arrived the FIRST time. The Necromancer has spewed forth the demise of the forest; which was merely a catalyst for the great Daemon Lord to spring from. Could he have merely came on his own? Of course. But what fun was that? It's always more fun when the humans of the world could find someone to BLAME for his existance, and thus torture the scapegoat out of hatred. And it was that very hatred which fuel Damphir's being. It was hatred that flowed through his body; not blood, not black ooze; but hatred. He could taste it in the tainted air of Baeliar; that hatred which had drawn his form to this place the first time he had came. The mighty daemon took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly with what would sound like almost a sigh of pleasure. "Ahh..." As Coromont continued his lazy march forward, Damphir continued to take in the sights of his past transgression...

Deamon Damphir ... Almost the entire forest was dead. All that was really left living was small insect, or small rodant like animals; perhaps even a larger predator would cross through the area, most were smart enough not to. The very air was enough to choke the life out of a being, let alone the landscape. " Oh Baeliar... how I remember you well." Coromont continued yet forward, when Damphir's ears gave a twinge. There was something more that simple rodants and insects alive in this forest. There was a larger being, perhaps even an intelligent being. "What's this... a... human? No... something else... something... aliiiiiivvvvveeee..." Damphir voice held on that final word, and a smirk crossed his lips. What matter of being would be foolish enough to come to this place? Surely it would have felt his presence, even if it was a lowly human, and would have fled in terror by now. He would HAVE to see what kind of creature this sense was. And so, his hand guided the reigns of Coromont, facing him in the direction of this... being.

Christian III GreySeerer The hairs on the back of Christian's neck raised. His senses reeled, and terror filled his throat. His brain urged him to run. Told him too. That little voice screamed and raged, telling him to get out of there while he could. Yet... at the very core of Christian's being, there was a calmness. A calmness, which came from a power which radiated to life..spreading slowly throughout his body as the Deamon approached, which focused on him. The muscles stopped twitching. The voice quieted, and Christian began to feel the first few tickling twinges at the tips of his fingers... But what it was that filled him now, and what it would become - he did not know. A part of his brain was overwhelmed with the feeling of this...power (the only name he could think of calling it), but the calm that the power provided gave him the ability to store the panic and the terror away for later. - Without thinking, he sat down onto the ground, leaning back against his backpack comfortably to relax. He slipped his arms behind his head, and laid back, breathing in the fresh...although tainted air, deeply. ... And he waited.

Deamon Damphir "Don't be afraid, little mortal..." Damphir's words were carried on the black winds that proceeded him. Coromont slowly stepped forward, the mighty steed's hoover causing the ground to shatter beneath them. From the broken crust, lava would erupt in small spurts; tossing rock and ash upward into the air as if they were mini-volcanos. And from the forest's edge Damphir and steed strode, merely yards away from Christian. The man caught Damphir's eye quickly. He must be the life-force that was earlier felt. "So... humans still travel through this place...?" His voice was merely a whisper in reality; it's real power would be felt in the mind. The Daemon's every word would hammer like the force of a hurricane on the unprepared psyche; his dark desires snaking their way into the every thought and feeling on the poor being they were forced upon. Coromont stood another couple steps forward, and then halted. With this, Damphir dismounted his steed. Even a beast such as himself had SOME manners when it came to first introductions. Any being brave, or stupid, enough to tred on turf such this was certain admirable in some small way, and so he'd great him on some-what equal footing. But only somewhat, seeing as how Damphir stood over seven feet tall, and his body was large; ripped with muscle in every concievable place; much like that of a wild animal. "Speak, human.... what is your purpose here...?"

Christian III GreySeerer Oh, his mind hammered alright. He watched the arrival of the Deamon, but that calmness once more pushing back any terror or panic he normally might have felt. And when Deamon's words began to hammer into his mind, a sort've of pain momentarily throbbed in his skull. He shut his eyes... closing them tightly, groaning softly. But, that mysterious calmness...that growing power which seemed to be a life being all of its own inside him, once more blasted back the mental intrusions. It was instinct. ~Stop it,~ he thought, and the Deamon's entrance into his mind would be equally slammed back. He closed the door to his mind and locked it. How, or why... It was a mystery. He was following something more than himself, that was for sure... With his mind free, he opened his eyes again, and gazed directly toward the Deamon. His green eyes softened now.. showing nothing of his inner-feelings. The Deamon would only see calm...and a smiling face. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer "Curiousity, if it can be considered a purpose... is what brought this human to travel here." He stayed in his relaxed and comfortable position, looking as if he was just enjoying the day. He would look completely unpeturbed by the Deamon's presence. "And what is your purpose? It was a little rude, trying to enter my mind without asking first.. Shame on you. I might have let you if you had just asked." He tsk'd, and chuckled softly.

[Jones]

Deamon Damphir The Daemon laughed; and his laugh almost sounded real! And not even sarcastic! It wasn't often that a human wouldn't tremble in terror at the mere FEELING of his energy, let alone actually seeing him. It was even FAR less often that a being wouldn't be crushed by the mental force placed upon their mind. And that is what had caused him to laugh quite hardily. "You are... quite the brave one, human... quite brave... not many beings in your position would remain standing in one place... or even bother to respond. Most would just die... or flee in sheer terror... ha ha..." The massive beast began to stride towards Christian. His every step caused the ground to burst; a massive metalic spike erupting from where is foot had been. Upon it, human beings were impaled; screaming out in absolute pain as their flesh was being chewed away by tiny, impish looking creatures. But was it real? Or was it merely an illusion? Who was to say? Damphir's influence spread far beyond simply the mind; but it spread it's way into all factors of the world like an unstoppable plague. The desertion between fantasy and reality would not be possible; and only the strongest of willed would beable to endure what was seen, smelled, and heard when the Great Daemon was about. "Well... I apologize, mortal... my influence merely has a... mind of it's own, you could say. I applaude you for not falling prey to it..." Another light laugh came from deep within the beast's throat...

Deamon Damphir ... "My purpose, human...? While it does not concern a lowly being, I shall tell you anyway. I am merely here to check up on an old haunt of mine... ha ha... I guess..." Damphir took a look upward at the sky, which was darkening as he spoke. It's clear blue being overcome by a deep, pitch black. All light was blocked out. Crimson lightly crashed in the clouds, and flames crossed the sky. "Well... since you proce to at least be somewhat worthy of attention.... speak your name, human... if you would..."

Christian III GreySeerer "My name is Christian." He stood as the Deamon approached. The horrible conjuration...or reality of what followed in the being's wake would have surely overwhelmed him. He watched the impish beings naw upon the screaming humans. The smell of their deaths, the burnt wood, and the pestilence that had resided here once before all came to his senses. They nawed at him... tore at him.. tore at the very fiber of all things that made him happy. Christian would have run then. Should have run. Deamon was a powerful figure of evil, and that evil hung on every part of the being. There was no charade. This thing did not pretend to be anything more than what it was. Powerful. Evil. Malicious. It was something Christian knew existed, and yet had strived and hoped to never meet. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer He knew of them. He knew of creatures like this. His family had, more than once, allied themselves with such for mutual benefit. His family had also warred with them. And it was that realization.. and the other sentient being within him now that washed over him like a tidal wave, purging him of the terror, the panic, and the depressing sadness that surely should've overwhelmed him. That should've overwhelmed any human. "...But I am far from lowly." Christian looked upon the grotesque sight that followed Deamon...and his courteous smile never waned. "You assume much, for your kind Great Deamon. You are lax, and your confidence blinds you." -c-

Christian III GreySeerer Pure instinct. The Christian that was there minutes before had flown, and the GreySeerer had replaced him. The power flexed and flowed in him like it was life-giving. The tingling in his fingertips seemed to increase. And he felt alive.. apart of the life and death, the good and evil that surrounded him. - Christian turned from the Deamon and faced the young and wounded tree he had tried to care to earlier. He placed his hand upon its trunk, and simply thought...and spoke... ~Heal. Take the life that is there, and remember. Remember what you are, and what you should be. Purge yourself. And remain.~ ... Thoughts. A communion and telepathic connection. A suggestion. - In answer, the ruptured wounds from the pestilence closed along the tree's trunk. The burnt bark slid off, and a new one began to grow... Leaves, began to sprout along thin branches.. - Christian turned back to the Deamon. Still smiling. "You have inflicted this place enough. Your destruction was carried through. Let it be."

Deamon Damphir A grin crossed the thin lips of the daemon. It always pleased him when he would come across a being that was much more than a mere human; much more than what he had previously sensed. Yes, Damphir had a craving the new, the unexperienced, the surprise. It was, perhaps, the soul reason why he simply did not just destroy everything as he saw fit. Surely, he would test every matter of life he would cross; and if it lived up to his expectations? He would allow it to live, to grow, to prosper. There was a time in his long, long life that he would have merely destroyed Christian at first glance. He would have used his overwhelming power to utterly crush every coil of the man's being, and send his soul into the eternal torment of Damphir's lair. But that was long ago... this... this was a new Damphir. This was a calm, calculating, far more dangerous beast; especially if provoked. " I see... you ARE more thatn meet's the eye... Christian... and of that I am very glad... very glad indeed. It would have saddened me greatly if you'd have been crushed by my influence... and even more so if you were nothing more than a gifted human. So... I guess I should thank you, hmm? I do enjoy a surprise... it give a sort of... rush... a feeling of life that doesn't come with your every day encounter...

Deamon Damphir ... But as for over confidence? Do not allow your apparent abilities to cloud you mind, young Christian. I have lived a great many millenias... since the dawn of humanity... and I will live on, until the very end. The world around you should be evidence enough of that fact... heh..." Damphir chuckled lightly, and took another step forward; again his spikey, impaled human 'friend' would rush out of the ground just after his foot left it. "Do not provoke me with your speech... or else you may find yourself far deeper into the depths of my power than you could ever hope to escape from. Instead, let us talk... like greater beings..." The Daemon's voice was surprisingly soft, and lacked the malice that one would normally associate with a being such as himself. He took a few more strides forward, the world continually shaping into more of a hell that it was Earth with every passing moment. All that was left untouched was Christian's newly healed tree. Why? Was it being Damphir was merely boasting, and his power wouldn't even begin to touch that of Christian? Or was it because Damphir's motives were not the death and destruction that surrounded him. "Calm yourself, Christian... I am not here to harm this place further... no... I ravaged this place many, many centuries ago...

Deamon Damphir ... And that is a time long since past. I am not here to redo what was done, or to destroy further. It is merely my nature, and influence... being what I am..." The beast spread his arms wide out to the sidem a black cloak seemingly falling out of now where, surrounding most of his body in a regal sort of sense. The circlet about his forehead grew into that of a powerful crown, encrusted with jewels and ornated with daemonic symbols. Out of the ground burst a pile of human bones; which quickly and quietly restructured itself into something of a massive throne. Damphir sat upon his new chair, and as he did, the ground around it would erupt into a moat of boiling blood; human bodies screaming out as they suffered in it; being boiled alive. "So, Christian... have a seat..." with a hand gesture, a chair similar to that of Damphir would rise out of the ground, only it was really wasn't much more than a simple arm chair. Afterall, a Daemon LORD had to have the best of seats "... and let us talk, shall we?"

[Jones]

Christian III GreySeerer Christian would give an affirming nod, listening to Deamon's words with a quiet acceptance. He would show no hostility. If anything, he was matching Deamon's courteous manner. He did not slouch, but stood tall, with his hands intertwined in front of him to represent the fact he was in deep thought and was a careful listener. His smile was not mocking, nor hostile. Rather, it was a smile that might be given to greeting an old friend. His green eyes, fiery within, watched the Deamon with amazement and although wretched, he could see the grandness of the being, and even thought he could see the contours of the power radiating from him. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer It had been a long time since Christian accepted what he was. What he was supposed to be. Life as GreySeerer, with so much to live up to.. the expectations... (or those he made up in his head), had been too much. Too many events occured, and he had lost the desire to harness the power a GreySeerer was granted. Even the idea of joining the Peace Angels had long since withered and died...compared to the life he had chosen. He had become human. He had emersed himself in their societies, and had chosen a life of wandering from kingdom to kingdom, town to town, studying and watching them like a scientist studies an unknown life-form. He read their books, became expert in their religions. And at the end of it all, he had chosen to become a Druid, and a simple healer... always studying and learning, but put out as far away from life-altering events as possible. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer But now, that life was over. He had wanted to study and learn of the forest - perhaps heal it, and instead he had been confronted with the very core of what he was... and now, he felt that power that he had to inherit, fully encompass and become a part of him. Perhaps Deamon would see the alteration... the flicker in Christian's eyes.. which watched the awesome being still, while it spoke. - "Greater beings?" It wasn't such a far-out idea now as it? "Very well." He nodded in thanks, and tentatively sat in the chair Deamon had conjured for him. -c-

Christian III GreySeerer With his revelations dealt with, Christian returned to the meeting at hand with his undivided attention. "You fascinate me Deamon. Truly! From the beginnings of the world? Such a life you must live. Wondrous... To be immortal and to watch the worlds rise and fall as they will. Being witness to everything..." His amazement and admiration was surely genuine.. resonating from the soft tone of his voice. "It is hard to consider myself a greater being alongside you, Deamon. Although, truly...I am more than I appear. But I am not a witness to the millenium of events such as yourself.. Your experience must be far superior to my own." He glanced down at the boiling blood, at the skeleton chair, shaking his head. "And although wretched, you exist in style! Which you must be given credit."

Deamon Damphir "Ah ha ha ha ha ha!" Damphir laughed heartily at Christian's reply. It was great! There were so few individuals in the would that could appreciate his stylings. SURE! They were a tiny bit weird, maybe even gross, but they DID have a certain flare to them that many other beings lacked. "Ah... a good one you are, yes." The daemon nodded some, and then laughed lightly more. Perhaps, he thought, he really DID make a good decision in not utterly destroying this being when they had first crossed pathes. "My name, Christian, would be Damphir, The
Daemon Lord." The beast nodded to the younger man, and then looked upward "Ah yes... indeed, one would think it would be great to have lived for so long, and to experience so much... but.. it is a curse all in itself..." Damphir brought his powerful gaze upon Christian once more. No, he didn't try to invade his mind this time. Rather, he simply looked, as if trying to stare into the soul of the man. Perhaps this one would be one he could open up to. He was so eager to listen, and seemed to harbor no malice or fear of the beast... perhaps... just perhaps. "You see... young one... I was born of human hatred, of anger, of greed; the first emotions human kind ever experienced...

Deamon Damphir ... And thus, I am immortal because of it. Sure, this form, this... consciousness could be destroyed. It's nearly happened before... but... my core being would remain... and I would be reborn. Albiet, not nearly as what I am now... but the cycle would begin again... but... I suppose with such knowledge comes wisdom... maybe..." Damphir laughed lightly once more "... but... well... now I do not wish it. Before I would torment those I crossed with the pain and suffering of generations of their kind's slaughter; showing them every painful, degernate act their kind ever did... and it would destroy them. Oh how I used to love to utterly destroy life... all of it... but... but now I believe I have changed..." Damphir came to rest his right elbow on the armrest of his throne, and his chin upon his hand. "Yes, now I am different... I merely walk through life... testing those whom cross me like yourself... to see if they're worthy of life. And if they are? They live... if not... well... you can imagine. Oh, sure, I still have my rampages; ever good Daemon must... but I quell them most of the time..." Damphir nodded abit, continuing to watch Christian "You are... an Angel of some sort? Aren't you? I can sense something more inside of you, though I'm not eniterly sure what... but you are something...

Deamon Damphir ... More than human. And that I admire. Not many would stand up to me as you do, very good. I like that in a mortal. So... Christian... what are you? Why are you here? What is your purpose on this mortal coil? I'm sure you know... don't you? So do tell."

~To Be Continued~