Illarion.org

(( Closed RP unless your character would have a terribly good reason to know where to find the druid mentioned in this thread. PM me if so before you post please. ^^

Since the server was down, me and the concerned GM decided to do the pig plague's RP on the forum. ))


His frail silhouette wrapped between an overly sized, large hooded mantle, the young lad made his way through the Northern forest's foliage, the dour colors of his attire camouflaging his presence in the benighted woodland.

The moon stood high in the sky, proudly sprinkling its bright rays through the trees' leaves, creating an insurmountable obstacle to the boy's stealthiness.

A strong gust swept through the woods, whispering warnings of dangers to come. He held his leather bag close by his chest and hurried his pace at every step, eventually running towards his destination; nowhere.

Suddenly, he halted. Gazing around worriedly, scanning his surroundings with a frown. Narrowing his eyes to pierce through the darkness, a flicker of light claimed his attention. Steadily, he began straying towards the signal. The small shack's frame began growing more and more as he approached the target.

A firecamp was cracking under a kettle. Pulling the wide hood off his head to reveal his facial features, he approached the druid house and looked around, muttering in a youthful, nervous tone of voice;

"Feigan?"

At the sound of his name, Feigan lifted his head and stood from his crouched position from across the flames.

"Aye?" The old mans voice was deep and curious, almost as curious as his brown eyes, which sparkled in the firelight from beneath a set of bushy gray eyebrows. It was not often that anyone strayed this far North and so close to his home so naturally his wariness was obvious. Not to mention that it was well past the hour that most would be walking through the forest.

The sad lad squinted his eyes further to study the old man's lineaments. Approaching slowly and reluctantly, he placed the leather bag near Feigan and uttered in a barely audible whisper;

"I came to ask your help.."

Claimed the boy for a moment, falling silent thoughtfully before he carried on..

"The swine in Banes has fallen ill and I know the cause. At first I thought to leave the stup-.. adults from town deal with it themselves, but by the looks of it, they aren't any smarter than the swine itself."

He further explained, reflexively scanning around his shoulder, tensed up and ready to react to any possible danger.

Feigan tilted his head and nodded in a knowing fashion as if understanding it all.

"I have heard this." A small smile reached his thin lips. "What is it that I can help you with, Lad if you already know the solution?" His words came out slowly.

He nodded briefly to the old man's inquiry and stepped closer slowly. Reaching down, he opened the lid of his leather bag and pulled out a handful of grass.

"The grass.." He muttered simply, stretching it towards him. "And the water.." He echoed. "I need a potion of sorts, or a spell. I doubt mortal medicine can cure this."