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 Posted: Wed Nov 10, 2004 8:44 pm
Hermit's Wood
(Area approved by Sey.)
The Hermit's Wood. Legend has it that a long time ago, an old wizard resided in this forest, conducting unusual experiments that made the trees grow to magnificent heights. Some say that the trees were also able to walk and talk on their own, and they protected the wizard from trespassers by tangling them in their branches and draining their blood. But of course, these are just legends, stories that mothers tell their children at night so they wouldn't wander into the woods alone.
Legends, however, always contain a bit of truth.
Today, Hermit's Wood, located about a day's walk east of Avalana's capital, is a home to many of the realm's elven folk. Often times, bandits and goblins will make camp in it's boundaries, but they are quickly routed. Stories told in taverns of "ghostly hunters" are often related to Hermit's Wood, giving it a bad reputation for travellers or would-be bandits who wind up lost and find themselves within it's confines.
The Wood is not all bad, though. The Elven town of Silva lays within it's canopy, deep in the heart of the forest. Travellers who lose their way and wander into the forest unintentionally are oftentimes welcomed to the town, where they can find refreshments and a bed to spend the night in, before they are shown their way out.
The Silvan Rangers patrol the forest day and night, silently creeping along the foliage and the treetops, keeping the Wood safe. They are anything but hospitable to those who enter the forest with ill intent, and are quick to kill with deadly accuracy. Though killing animals is greatly looked down upon, it is still a necessity to survive, as long as the animal's spirit, and those of the forest, are kept content.
After much years of isolating themselves to the outside world, the Silvans have begun opening up to the rest of the world, allowing trade into their small town, and the company of foreigners. That doesn't mean they're not cautious, though.
Enter at your own risk.
domokun
Landmarks and Places
Silva - A quiet, treetop town populated mainly by Elves. Structures are connected by rope bridge walkways and ladders, but for the convenience of foreigners, some other buildings have been built on the forest floor. The Windwalker Tavern is one of the buildings, built at the base of a huge, hollowed out redwood tree, with inn rooms at the upper levels.
Silva's leader is (insert name here), and resides in the biggest treehouse of the town.
Hermit's Tower -
((If anyone would like to contribute to the Wood, feel free to PM me.))
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Posted: Wed Nov 10, 2004 9:23 pm
The silent warrior laid quiet with his back against the tree trunk, looking down upon the forest floor from the shadowy cover of the treetops. Below him was the dying light from the embers of a campfire, of which some half dozen sleeping bodies surrounded, sleeping off their dinners. Ellifain had been tracking this group ever since they entered the forest, and judging from their actions, they looked to be a scouting party of some sort, perhaps from a goblin tribe in the mountains. Whoever they were, they were goblins, and were not welcome here.
Ellifain figured the task would be easy. Slip in, cut their throats, and jump back into the treetops before they could so much as open their eyes and scream out in alarm. Alas, the young hunter wasn't cautious enough, and failed to notice the well placed tripwire just a foot away from one of the sleeping baddies.
The loud clanging of pots and pans stirred the goblins awake, and they jumped out of their beds with angered grumblings and weapons drawn. Well, so far for it being easy. Ellifain knocked an arrow quickly and fired a shot at the closest goblin, dropping it quickly with an arrow still quivering as it lay embedded between it's eyes. He had time to fire another arrow before the first goblin got within attacking range, having to jump back from a wild swing of it's club.
Ellifain dropped his bow and drew out his sword and dagger, weaving between the remaining four goblins, blocking and parrying as he worked his way around them, and moved them into a more desirable position for himself. Soon, he had them lined up in a column, squeezing between two trees to get at him. Stupid creatures. Ellifain recited a spell to have the vines and roots come up from the ground and tangle them, holding them in place while he questioned them.
He could hardly understand a thing the goblins were saying with their incomprehensible grunts and growls, and the fact that he hasn't learned to speak Goblin yet, and so he slit all their throats. He gave a prayer to the forest spirits as he discarded their bodies, burning them in a pyre and burying their ashes.
The moon was rising when Ellifan completed his work and started making his way back to Silva. "Hmm. I wonder who I would go to to learn how to speak Goblinoid," he thought aloud to himself.
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Posted: Wed Nov 10, 2004 9:53 pm
Ellifain made it back to the outskirts of Silva without any further incident. His home lay in the southern-most edges of the small treetop town. It wasn't much, but he called it home. A small hut in the branches, it contained the necessities; a bed, and storage for his clothing and other supplies. Everything else he was able to find on the land.
His night wasn't over yet. First, the young elf would make a stop by the tavern, Windwalker, and see if there was any gossip floating around that could be of any value. He learned not too long after travellers and merchants began frequenting it that there was much information to be learned from the road. Most of it was useless and inconsequential, but now and then there would be tidbits of vital intelligence.
The Windwalker also served his favorite drink, a brand of Dark Elf Wine said to be extremely rare. He hated his dark-skinned kin as much as everyone else, but they sure knew how to make wine.
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