Listen: For we Are Watching

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Iekka
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Location: "I'm in perfect control; it's just the situation that's a little out of hand..."
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Listen: For we Are Watching

Post by Iekka »

A light wind blows through the streets during the night. A flash of darkness covers the library door for only moments, easily mistaken for nothing but the shifting of clouds in the sky, causing the shadows to quickely dance through any light.

The gentle breeze seems to shift, and a short note flutters softly in its motion, like a leaf fluttering on the branch of a tree. The parchment is held to the door with the claw of a wolf and is written in a dark green ink with an elvish touch...




The woods have eyes
Have ears
Holding onto secrets
Too bold for mortals to know
The trees can feel
They scream
But you can never hear
As your axes rip through their core

You all were born of
Lands spread out
In the mothers hand
No matter what race
So with Honor
Protect the haven you we born of

Listen now
Hear our call
For we are everywhere
Yet out of sight
We are watching
We are waiting
Listen to our call


Image



A lone wolf howls, it's clean crisp voice echoing from the woods, seemingly all the woods, then an empying silence filled the town. The wolf never was heard again.

From the Eastern shadows outside of town, a woman walks, her deep green cloak pulled up over her head and a wooden staff held softly in her hand as she was followed by two white, almost glowing creatures that seemed to vanish upon hitting the shadows...
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Jo'han du' Miérlë
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Post by Jo'han du' Miérlë »

The young man walks up to the note on the door, running his hand down the parchment. Haveing just arrived to the land he read the words with intrest, upon finishing reading the note he smirks softly to himself.

"Just like home..." He mutters under his breath as he runs a hand through his short white hair, letting it fall softly back around his face. "Elven affairs such as this have always caught my intrest..."

The youth pats his pockets quickely in search for a quill, but upon not finding one, picks up a crows feather from the ground. "Almost reminds me of my aunt..." He draws a dagger as he talks to himself and cuts open a line down his hand, letting a tiny stream of deep red blood drizzel out. "Though, I guess her haveing elven blood in her could give enough reason for he medling in the troubles of the immortal."

He stopped and looked at his hand then blinked.

"What am I doing?" He said blatently as he whiped his hand off on his trousers and tucked the blade back into his belt, letting the feather drop from his hand and circle to the ground. "I have to remember to think before I start doing something..." He muttered as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked off down the street.

Behind him the feather lay below the strange note on the door, sorrounded by a small pool of dark red blood that drained off in small lines through the cracks in the street.
Damien
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Post by Damien »

Damien reads the note, and shrugs noticing the bloody drops on the floor.
He vanishes into the library, and a moment later, he reappears with another note in his hand. He attaches it to the wall, directly under the note.

It reads :


Oh growing tree, a thousand days
Thy roots so strong, unseen
Oh falling tree, a single haste
Oh iron axe, in such a waste
Where, brother, have thy been ?
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Iekka
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Post by Iekka »

Through the night another note appears, pinned in the same fastion as the first, with the wolves claw to hold it on. The shadows around the door seem to whisper as cool nights breeze whips up thorugh the street, sending the note up flat against the door, only to fall back down to await another gust.


The birds converce
Their stories rule
The coming tales
The coming truth
The land it seems
Holds those of blood
Worthy race
For her love
Though others can not see
The pain their blades
Their axes deep, brings to the

Here in woods so deep
Broken down
Thinned flat out
Shall we lay
Watching, Waiting
For ye I pray

- The Watchers Of The Wood
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Dravish
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Post by Dravish »

The last minutes of daylight slowly disappears.
Bringing forth the darkness with all its tempting fears.
No longer does the welcoming sun shine a guiding light.
Helplessly you are thrown into the powers of the night

Lurking in shadows is the life you sought to know.
And all those inner voices beckoning you to go.
Show your other side let the dark one out to play.
Free your inhibitions, don't let these feelings run astray.

The dark one within demands to emerge.
Take off the mask you wear and let these feelings surge.
There is no need to hide because the night will set you free.
Begin the journey to the places that you long to be.

Look upon the darkness without any fright
Let yourself get lost inside the powers of the night
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The Night's Own
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Post by The Night's Own »

The chin of a face peeks out from under a dark hood; its lips curling into a wide smile, while the shadowy figure disappears between the trees of the woodland range.
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Iekka
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Post by Iekka »

The trees seem to whisper through the town, all the bushes all the hedges. The grasses in the moonlight, swaying in the gentle breeze, appearing as a sliver sea. The waters run through the river, an every harmonious sound, as the shimmering glass billows over rocks and around ferns while fish can be seen swimming under the glass like current.

A thin mist seems to fill the streets of the town and another note appears beneath the last, written in the green mixed from leaves, but at the end signed with blood.





We screamed again
Our roots now pulled
Our life still there
No longer bold
Taken from the ground so deep
Like a bloody murder cut so neat
we screamed again
Our voices still
Never heard
Never will

Heed our words
For we are one
With every broken stick and bone
With the blades of grass on banks of shore
With the trees so thick with age and spore
We feel your blades
And we so do weep
For pain we feel
To see your acts
How little you care, with your axes deep
Imbedded in trees that weep
With no dispaire

Take what you need
Take no more
For we are watching...
We are waiting...
We are here...


- The Watchers Of The Wood
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Iekka
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Post by Iekka »

In the night a woman clad in a deep green cloak approaches the note and rests her hand on the parchments, her face hidden in the shadows of her hood. A mist seems to have followed her into the town and rests it's self as a thin layer along the streets. Billowing like waves.

The moon light reflects off of the streams of tears that roll down her cheeks, turning then to glittering diamonds. Her hand shakes and she clenches it, slowly crinkling up the last note on the door. She takes in a deep breath, a fresh wave of tears falling down her cheeks as she sinks down onto her knees, then lets herself sit and lean back against the door, her staff still in her hand, though now resting against the wall.

She shivers, though she is not cold and curls herself up, letting her head meet her knees as she brings them into herself, her arms wrapped around her legs; her staff clangs against the ground, its wooden sound followed by the blade on the top, scratching a long line from the stone as it falls. For hours the fog stays in the town, as does she, sitting infront of her note sobbing into her knees untill the first rays of dawn peek up from over the mountains and the roosters sing their morning call. She raises her head and wipes away her tears and picks up her staff, using it to help her back to her feet.

She turns to her note and straightens it up as the fog seems to slowly thin out. Then silently as she came she vanished back into the shadows of the woods, one hand wrapped around her stomach and her other holding her staff, her head hung.
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