Author: Cymbel, Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2017 6:48 PM, Post Subject: Forest of the Accursed [O]

Shivers ran down his spine as he walked through this place. The scroll of teleportation he had used in his escape from Feeorin did its work, and worked as planned. It had sent him far away, but how far? The air reeked with the aura of death and restlessness, not the sedate solemnity of graveyards. The place felt sick with grief and he couldn't stop shaking. Having learned well from the daily routines of running through the hellish hedge mazes created by the fae court, he had kept himself out of the apparitions' grasp. Their agonized shrieks and wasted limbs vainly reached for those whom still had life in their bodies.

Just a little further. A little more and he would be out of the forest into safety. He could feel it; the spirits' frenzy was gradually waning as he continued forward. As long as he kept putting one foot in front of the other he would reach the edge. Suddenly, it seemed as if all the phantoms in the entire forest turned their attention to something and swarmed in one direction like moths to a flame. He didn't know what was happening, but it was significant enough to draw so many of the restless dead like a lodestone. The chills in his legs began to cease, and the stiffness in his limbs was gone. As the wisps faded out of sight, the place was enveloped in an unsettling quiet.

Then, a voice broke the silence like a sword cleaving a piece of cloth in twain. "Hear me, o spirits of the dead! You who have been lost, abandoned! The world has not forgotten you, and hath remembered the tragedy which befell you in this very place! I stand before you as a witness and hold this memorial in your name!"

The the spirits howled and screeched, and through the cacophony he could hear a multitude of voices echo in reply. You are still amongst the living, how can one such as you comprehend the pain and suffering we have endured? Who are you to say that we have not been forgotten by the world of the living? They have left us here and sealed us within, leaving us to walk the earth without rest! The gods abandoned us! They betrayed us! We have been cast away and left to rot among the bodies of the forsaken!

Again the voice shouted loud and clear: "If they will not remember you, then I will. I have come here of my own accord, putting my own life in danger. I had nothing to gain from taking this risk, yet I chose to come. The gods who betrayed you are dead, and your sacrifice was not in vain. Through you the world has learned the truth and is no longer ignorant and people are free. Cast aside your resentment, for now you can finally rest in peace."

The screams died down, and the oppressive heaviness that lingered in the air lifted a little. It was then that he finally emerged from the trees, stumbling into the light outside. As the charms dangling from the trees swayed in the wind, he looked back from where he had came. What he had witnessed was something beyond what he could ever imagine, and felt a sense of awe. For the first time in his life he had seen courage in such a terrifying situation. Walking away from the cursed forest, he gave his best wishes to the person who had dared to speak with the vengeful spirits, and that they would be able to leave safely. For him, his journey was just beginning.

Author: Shiloh Kyrie, Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2017 1:05 AM, Post Subject: Forest of the Accursed [O]

This forest was cursed; that much she knew. You didn't need to be a paladin or a cleric to see this place was built upon the foundations of grief and despair. An ominous wind blew through the light-less canopy, but Shiloh continued to press onward. The person who had given her the request had told her of the tragedy behind these trees, and instead of being afraid she instead felt pity. It was a sad tale, one that spoke of desperation and loss. Even though her life had been a string of misfortunes, she knew this was leagues worse than anything she had went through. 

In her hands she clutched a small bottle filled with blessed water, a bundle of sticks made from incense, and candles. The old man had asked her to hold a memorial service for the lives who had been taken by the forest, and if possible the lives which were lost that acted as the source of it all. He was not one to simply send a lone soul on a fool's errand. She had been provided with a full set of talismans, all with the purpose of safeguarding her spirit against those of the deceased. Although she doubted their potency, she obliged and did as he requested. Better safe than sorry, after all.

The trees dangled vines that looked like ropes, or was it ropes that resembled vines? Charms were hung around the forest's edge, but inside such protection was absent. Shiloh herself did not want to venture in too far; all she needed was to find a suitable place to hold a service. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw wisps fade in and out of existence. She kept a close watch on them, but did not follow. She was too shrewd for that. The fey had trained her well when it came to handling haunted or enchanted locations, and she didn't dare forget it. As she passed by the trees she spied bits of metal embedded within the trunks of the trees, and sighed shaking her head. 

Her ears picked up the whispers on the wind. At first they seemed like sobbing, and at times wailing. The sounds were obvious that they were the voices of mourning from the restless spirits here. When the weeping was loud, Shiloh was on her guard and watched her step. She would not let fate pull the rug out from underneath her here. As the cries of anguish died down, she finally found the place she was looking for. It was a bare spot within the trees, a few meters wide. Just enough space to set up all the candles. Without a moment to lose, she arranged the candles according to the old man's instruction. With her tinderbox she had them lit, and poured the blessed water around her in a circle. Using the empty bottle she placed the sticks of incense in and lit them as well. The heavy smoke tinged with fragrance slowly spread throughout the haunted wood.

As if to react to her actions, it seemed as if all the tortured souls who died within the forest converged on her location, shrieking and grasping at her with their spectral hands. She closed her eyes and held her breath, clutching the talismans hanging from her neck.

'You must not succumb to fear', she thought to herself. 'Remember the truth of this forest and its existence.' 

Steeling her resolve, she opened her eyes and produced the bag of chalk. She sprinkled it around her and pulled out a bouquet of paper flowers, setting it down before the candles and incense. The paper ones would last a bit longer than the real thing, and wouldn't wilt.