[Le Parc] Watch Out! He's Armed! (Keldon, Private)

[Crimson]

Continued from here ...

The walk to the sacred grounds of Le Cathedral du Carmelya usually took half a candlemark or more from any entrance leading to Jaedaxia's largest parc. The forest was a brilliant emerald, no matter the season, and the trees sways and seemingly sang even as the Royal Marshall's blood-stained boots mingled with their neighboring flora and fauna. It had been so long since the last soldier entered the woodlands. Perhaps the Imperials who wandered into Le Parc were either chased away by the sheer magnitude of its majestic beauty, or by some accounts, scared away by the woodland's more mysterious residents. Nymphs and Dryads were said to guard the precious woodland along with gnomes and all manners of Carmelya's servants.

Not to mention the order of priests and priestesses ordained in Caremlya's Name.

At Keldon's approach, he'd easily be enraptured by the Cathedral's majestic frame, its dome like a miniature white sun beneath Telath's three orbs. A gathering of acolytes noticed him first. One of them immediately ran into the sanctuary, presumably to alert those in charge; yet the four who remained greeted Keldon as he spoke. "All are welcome here, Your Excellency" a priestess smile. Like most of the order's members, she was Silrosian with platinum hair and bright emerald eyes.

"I apologize, however, but the Archpriestess is not available ... per chance you have something I could relay?" she smiled apologetically, her tones sincere.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Keldon let out a brief sigh for a moment as he started to turn to leave and then paused. He didn't know the Archpriestess, nor did he know anything in the Citadel he was lost in reality in far more ways then one. So he turned and shook his head slightly, his voice was attempting to be understanding and kind but held some regret and sadness in it. "No... nothing to relay... just a lost soldier looking for some help where none is owed..." he finished with what appeared to be a tint of a smile.

[Crimson]

Time-stamp: I'm Still Yours (Kutless)

After the initial exchange of pleasantries and well wishes in the name of Carmelya, the priestess who spoke was about to return to her duties when a figure emerged from the halls of the cathedral. It was not the Archdruidess. The Elf Lord stood taller than Keldon, though his form was lithe and he had a small limp which was aided by a gnarled walking cane. He was an older figure, and those acolytes who saw him immediately lowered their heads in reverence. ”You are the Royal Marshall” the Elf said in greeting, as if the man's title meant nothing. His sea green eyes looked from Keldon's eyes to his missing forearm. ”A broken man. You are not alone, Keldon Elsdragon.” The Priest of Carmelya spoke Keldon's name with a bitterness, but his tones remained kind and even sympathetic.

”Soldiers usually seek us after Wartime. During the Second Seige, Imperial and Jaedaxian alike sought Her Holiness. Children were taken to us, dying, sick … women, raped ...” his voice grew heavy. ”The price soldiers pay for war is nothing compared to the suffering they usher – no matter who the victor is. You understand this, Marshall.” He paused, perhaps sensing the dread in Keldon's spirit and the weariness in his body. Sighing softly, the Priest motioned toward the marbled halls whence he came. ”If you seek guidance, that much I can offer you. But Her Holiness is unavailable. We are but peaceful worshipers, Marshall. And there are no Thaumaturges here. Only druids who have devoted their lives to the Mother Goddess and Her domain.”

If Keldon accepted the invitation, he'd be led into the Priest's own private chambers and office. The wide, high-ceiling room was spacious as it was simply decorated. A small cot sat in a corner, with a medium sized desk crafted from twisted branches and roots stood near the door leading within. There were shelves littered with leather-bound tomes, several brass candle holders, among other souvenirs and mementos. ”Please, have a seat” the Elf Lord told Keldon. But there were no chairs.

Just as the Marshall was about to mention this small detail, he saw the table begin to churn and twist as the branches and roots seemed to gather life. Moments later, a simple high-backed chair emerged and settled itself beside the Lord of House Elsdragon. Smiling softly, the Priest produced another one, this time a stool, and seated himself across the magical tableau facing Keldon. ”I recently had a young man come here. Veteran of Sheria, as I take it.” The Elven priest nodded, then began to pour tea from a nearby kettle onto two wooden mugs. The smell of sweet herbs and a mixture of other spices filled the air. Surprisingly, the water in the kettle was still hot despite the lack of any fire within the room. ”He wanted his leg restored” the Priest looked up. ”So I asked him, 'why?' ...”

The Elf Lord frowned. ”He said that he wanted to go back and fight. I haven't seen him since I declined his request.”

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Taking note of their use of Arcana Keldon said nothing, and in reality didnt change his appearance much at all either. Moving towards the chair he took a seat and paused for a moment listening to the man. Guidance, what was guidance really? It was someone giving you their opinion, and normally they expected you to follow it. Then it was no longer guidance it was taking words to great action. Keldon was tired of words, he was tired of noblemen and politicians who had not seen actual warfare or death only gold and lavish lives. They made decisions to cause people to lose their lives but never had the gut to make the hard choices. They would rather watch people die, line their pockets and when something goes wrong cover their own ass and attempt to be friendly all for what? Opinion? Gold? Reputation? As far as Keldon was concerned they were destined to live a miserable live of lavish and stress where in reality the choices were simple and easy.

Eyes raising to meet the Elf Lord a rather brief sense of pride flickered in the elfs eyes. "Royal Marshal I am no more, I handed the Prince my sword. If he wants to fight wars and play politician with lives then that is his decision. But I will not follow a coward... he said his own tongue snapping with a glint of bitterness in it. He would stand by Milo for his life, but he would not serve him as a military commander any longer. "War brings many things, chaos, death, but also peace and a chance to move forward with life. The reality is war is inevitable so long as there is life on Teleth. Balance must always be kept and I am sure you know this. It is how we deal with the suffering and chaos that define us... and I will never make the same mistake again... he paused for brief moment his eyes looking to the floor. He had been presented with the choice of taking a life of a friend and he had made the mistake and gave them the benefit of the doubt. That they actually cared other then their own agenda or desire and he was wrong... the next time there would be no mistake, next time would not repeat the last. "I have no desire to return to fight, I desire to be able to protect. If I am to defend those children, or to stop the women from being raped then I need to be the best I can be or I shall fall before my enemy... he remarked and went silent delving back into thought.

[Crimson]

At Keldon's correction, the Priest looked momentarily confused. ”I see” was all he managed to say ”I should really pay attention to the Herald, hm?” he smiled before offering the former Royal Marshall something to drink or eat again. Only then would the Silrosian priest continue. ”Yet war is not balance, nor does it create balance” he chided softly ”you are a soldier, Master Elsdragon. You see war as a tool, a means, to protect the people, to keep the peace. But that is not so.” He paused, taking another sip from his wooden mug. ”The Balance you speak of is not an external force. It is internal. The heart of mortals must be changed to prevent all this pain and chaos. You believe that the sword, when it cuts down its enemy, no matter how cruel, will revert chaos to order?”

”Non. A fallen enemy only brings vengeance from a thousand more of his brothers. Then from those thousand comes a hundred thousand. You have seen this.” He nodded thoughtfully. ”No, war is not the tool you need. It is healing. Forgiveness. War only leads to war, never to peace. Remember this.” The priest looked up surprisingly when Keldon mentioned that he would no longer fight, however, and stated his sudden shift in perspective and desire to sacrifice even his own life for that end. ”Then protect them” the Priest offered simply ”you must. I understand your pain. I have felt it each time my eyes fell to a wounded civilian, or soldier. I am no longer a young elf” he smiled sadly ”but from pain comes healing. And that is where I can lead you, Keldon.”

”Yet, I cannot believe that a master swordsman can ever stop fighting without shedding blood” a new voice came from behind Keldon. It was feminine, song-like, gentle yet fierce at once.

The Priest suddenly stood, his countenance fell into a deep bow. Behind Keldon stood perhaps the most beautiful Silrosian he's ever seen. She stood nearly two meters and her features seemed to shimmer with an agelessness no mortal was blessed with. Her sharp features edged into a small smile. The Archdruidess donned the majestic wine robes with layered emerald and silver embroidered vestments pronouncing her as the Arch priestess of Carmelya. Her emerald-golden eyes shone with power and centuries of wisdom. ”Keldon Elsdragon” she said his name with utter amusement and a tinge of annoyance ”Now that you're no longer Marshall, how can you firstly maintain your former promises regarding this surge of legionnaires in our city?”

The Priest remained quiet at this point, nervous even, as if he wanted to get out of his own office.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Healing and forgiveness, the real question was anyone truly capable of such a thing. For all those people who looked to the gods for guidance and then yet refused to acknowledge that it was the gods themselves that created the mortal world with those flaws. For what reason escaped everyone, but to say the world would be better off without war was correct, yet also impossible at the same time. So long as there was life in the world there would be conflict and war, from the smallest fly to the largest dragon.

Keldon was ready to give the elf his opinion of what healing and forgiveness really meant when the women's voice caught his attention. But not in the way it would of done a era ago. As the Priest rose Keldon remained seated, although he leaned forward to be slightly more proper. Inside the elf there was a sense that perhaps only applied to him and that was respect was earned never given. Regardless of someones reputation, god they worshipped, or title they held. Keldon didn't care if the person was a Prince, a Aelyrian or a popper. He would give gentle formalities but never large displays of respect to anyone until they had earned it, and he knew this was something that would create a many walls for him but it was something he now believed in after respecting those that had failed him so much.

Level eyes met the Silrosian as she asked her question, the tone in her voice phased the elf little if at all and the expression on Keldons face changed very littleuntil she asked the question about the surge of soldiers. "Orders have been given for only several thousand souls to be transferred from the legion stationed in Kaldira. Beyond that... the decision rests with the Minister and Prince who are far to concerned with making their chairs and pellows look comfortable and proper and chatting then handling the tough choices... beyond those souls I no longer have control over what comes here... atleast officially..." he remarked, almost bitter when he referred to the Kingdoms Government in a way. Not in the tone that he wanted to overthrow them, but that he believed them weak and cowardly politicans.

Adjusting his cloak so that it fell away and where normally was a longsword was nothing Keldons eyes paused for a moment. "A Master swordsmen does not always fight for blood... Archdruidess? He can fight for many reasons, some would take blood, and others would not. I would rather knock a enemy out and let them realize their mistakes and move forward in life then end it. Bloodshed and death is only but a final resort... but is a nessacary one at times..." he finished and went quite taking a sip of the tea that was previously offered. He one hand moved and held the cup, the stump that was now his arm moved as if the ghost of its former self was still there.

[Crimson]

”So politics, then?” the Archdruidess maintained her tone. She glanced at the priest, who looked more uncomfortable than ever. ”Master, if you could allow me and the former Marshall to have a word in private?” Her words were like steel, unmoving and powerful. The priest made no effort to suggest otherwise. With a curt 'au revoir' to Keldon, he left his office and closed the door behind him. Aa'ondra gracefully cleared the distance between herself and the only remaining chair. She seated herself and continued to study Keldon for a moment before speaking again. ”Your notion of honor is flawed, young Elsdragon.” It must have been a rare occurrence to call Keldon 'young'; but it was probably due to the fact that the former Marshall didn't talk to too many Archdruidesses. ”A defeated enemy is a vengeful enemy. Desperate, even. You would turn your back to him and find a dagger in your back; maybe even your family or those you love taken and punished in your stead.”

The Archdruidess' tone remained even, as if they were talking about the lovely weather outside the cathedral. Yet her ageless features seemed thoughtful, perhaps unsure at last of what to make of one Keldon Elsdragon.

”Bloodshed is never necessary” she said with finality ”that is the way of Carmelya. But we shall leave this moral quagmire for another time.” She smiled, and it Keldon felt the constrained power of the woman uncoil like an impeding thunderstorm. There was no spell, but she emitted an authority that was difficult to ignore. The flowers in the room seemed drawn to her, their petals becoming more lively and cheerful in her presence. ”Lord Elsdragon, Jaedaxia has always been at war. When it was a Kingdom, its nobles warred for land and prestige; when the Imperials marched at as, he fought to retain our independence and failed. Now, the war comes from an old enemy. A foe that is completely and utterly evil.”

She paused, allowing Keldon time to comprehend her intentions before moving on.

”An ancient darkness has awakened” she continued, her voice solemn but now tinged with concern ”It was sealed in the Trident Isles. For centuries it has stirred, but we bound it with our Arcana. Now … we fear it will rise to power again. It will seduce our strongest, wisest, and greatest champions with treasure and promises beyond the mortal realm. On that brightening you will stand before the Abyss and choose. You will choose to keep what you cherish most, or sacrifice it all for the greater good. That is your curse, Keldon Elsdragon. Your curse is your flawed honor.”

”You wish to save everyone, and destroy yourself doing it.” And it was quiet for a long time.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Keldon made a small smile when the elf finished although he remained silent for a brief while like her. The silence of the room was astounding for those few moments the only sound that likely was heard anywhere was when Keldon moved his cup to take a small sip looking down to the floor briefly and then lifted his eyes to the Archdruids and began to speak, his voice calm, and unwavering for the moment. "Youth is a curse to everyone, it makes us believe we are invincible... but then perhaps wisdom makes us conflicted in our own intelligence?" he said with a brief pause. "The necessity of bloodshed is a decision we all must make, we decide if it is necessary or not. For from your own words, a defeated enemy is a vengeful enemy, thus then bloodshed is necessary to prevent future bloodshed?" he asked the vital question, since after all it was her own flawed logic that opened that door, but before she could respond he continued. "Darkness and Light is in all of us, I take a chance every time I stow my weapon from taking a life in order to give them another chance. I know full well that the circle could come around and end my own, but everyone deserves a chance to atone for their mistakes... most of the time... would I kill a drunkard who decided to attack me or a stranger for some reason... no. Would I remove the head of a murderer who killed hundreds of innocents for their own reasons... without a second thought. Some people can be saved, others are lost to the darkness of their soul. Its the impossible decision to walk that line and try to decide in that critical moment who has the chance to change... and like any mistake sometimes we will make the wrong decision and live with the consequences milady..." he finished his small ramble, his voice resounded his conviction in the belief with such a passion that if someone could hear his heart they would hear the passion and thunder that resounded within it.

After taking down a small sip his eyes never left the druid as silence remained in the room and then all was broken by the low solom voice of the elf. "If that brightening every comes miss... then the decision is already made. Everything I cherish means nothing to the safety of others, one person, one family, or my own soul means nothing to the greater picture... on that brightening I will surrender everything I have or cherish..." he said slowly as a small tear swelled in his eye as he was faced with the possible decision of parting with his family and everything he knew, but if the time came he would. "But the real question... is why now?

[Crimson]

"Something, or someone beckons it" the Archdruidess replied. "The nature of this darkness is not completely understood. Even the ancient Borthanists feared it -- and they believed the Dragon God was their ultimate protector." A rare frown formed on the woman's ethereal features then. The Cathedral and the Dragon-Cult had always been at odds. But, for the most part, the two major religious sects avoided confrontation. The Carmelites possessed superior Arcana, but the Cult at its peak nearly had every resident on the Libertas peninsula consumed in their idol worship.

"It all began prior to the Longest Winter. Do you recall the Second Vampire Scare?" she looked to Keldon, unsure if the former Marshall had been in Jaedaxia that long ago. "Following the initial assault on Chateau Noir, rumors of renewed vampire attacks spread like wildfire. Understandably, heroes were assembled while common folk hid and refused to leave their homes after Suns down." She paused, allowing Keldon time to ask or add anything if he so wished. "In the end, though, despite the overwhelming evidence that the attack victims were indeed bitten and drained of their blood, it was not from vampires. Until now, we do not know what caused the death of those victims. It appeared to be vampires ..." She shook her head, obviously troubled.

"Then the Longest Winter came. All those deaths ... may Carmelya grant them solace. Some allies of mine from the Trident Isles sent word about a new tribe taking root. At first, I could not understand how a new group of people could possible integrate themselves into such a wild place. Even I avoid the Serewood, Keldon" she smiled warily "and for good reason. The trees are ... corrupted. They have seen and tasted the taint of evil in their roots. They whisper of dark things ... nightmares to come." She sighed softly. "And then a group of mercenaries, pirates I think, returned with wild tales about demons and an order of magi who could summon them."

"I initially thought that it was Necromancers. This was last season, at the height of the Jorelite Hunt in Eunesia. It is not inconceivable for some of their ilk to flee south to the Trident Isles. But after speaking with some of the Serewood clans ... they mentioned practices involving blood sacrifice, the kidnapping of women, children ... it was ... truly frightening." For an Archdruidess to become so disgusted was truly a sight to behold. Keldon could once again feel the knotting of power radiate from the elf maiden before him.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

YouTube- Green Day - 21 Guns (Official Video)

YouTube- Green Day - 21 Guns (Official Video)

Sitting there listening to the women Keldon remained silent throughout the entire conversation it seemed. It seemed a threat had been building on the doorstep and only a handful knew of it, no government, no military, no mighty legions or a logical prince standing there to make decisions. No, just common folk, priests and those who would stand against evil even if it wasn't standard regulation or even if it didn't give the best perception of themselves.

When she mentioned the Longest Winter and all the bodies that had built up in Jaedaxia Keldon couldn't help but make a brief sigh as he recalled the moment he had given the instructions to the legions to burn the bodies even against the desire of some of the local populace to bury their family. But it was a judgement call he had to make at the time, give those some peace of mind or risk disease and famon upon those that lived through the events. Sometimes he wondered if he should of just laid down his arms to nature and surrendered his own life there and then, perhaps then so many other lives would of been saved in the future.

Although when she mentioned the tribe in the Serewood the elfs brow over the empty socket which was once his eye perked ever so slightly as the rest of his face remained observant of the Archdruidess. "Once upon a time in my youth I to had.... adventured perhaps into the Serewood for a brief period and it was fething creepy to be frankly and found my way out shortly afterwards. Clans in the region seem... accepting for those they seek while others are hostile it seems... but that is life is is not?" he said with a brief pause taking a moment to think. "Whispers and tales, these are things that have circulated the country for era's on era's. Sometimes have little credit, but..." he said with a brief pause and rubbed his chin slightly. "Sometimes they have merit and those... those are the concerning ones. But what can be done about it? In reality no matter how hard you hunt evil, it only shows itself when it desires to strike perhaps the only thing to do is to wait and perpair for what is inevtiably going to show itself..." and with that he went silent looking just below the druid, thinking slowly and pondering what could really be done about it, and more importantly just what relevance this story of hers had to do with him.

[Crimson]

If the Archdruidess was upset, she didn't show it. Rather, her frown simply melted back into her ageless features and she remained quiet for some time after the former Marshall spoke. "So you wish for us to stand and do nothing? Wait it out. Allow this threat to grow and strength and lure more to its cause?" Her voice was solemn, controlled but Keldon could almost see the fire in her golden-emerald eyes. "As a military man, I expected otherwise from you." There was a biting disappointment in those words, though Aa'ondra would have never admitted it.

"Yet I suppose your tactics have changed since ..." her almond shaped eyes fell to Keldon's missing arm. "Your last battle" she said with proper punctuation. "But I must warn you, Keldon, that this is not the time to become conservative. A wave of darkness is coming. And if we do not stand up against it, we will fall into its shadow and be destroyed. Thousands will perish." It may have been lost to Aa'ondra that Keldon no longer had men under his command; but gauging from her expressive eyes that beheld not only her immense power but also her intellect, perhaps forgetfulness was not among the high priestess' list of character defects.

"Jaedaxia needs a champion. A man whose merit is counted not by his medals, but by his deeds - past, present, and future."

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Looking to the women he took note of her disappointment, although he had little comfort to offer her. He had no grand army to order to the isles to combat evil, and he preferred it that way. For if he gave those orders, the orders that needed to be given, the orders that were nessacary he would have the court of jestures screaming in rage that he took actions for personal gain, for medals, for wealth and leasiure. Yet no one would likely ever know Keldons motivations for service in the legions, giving so much money away without a single reason. He has not been awarded a single medal, no bounty for delivering the wanted, no thanks, no parade, no financial or political gain. The man had given and lost almost everything and asked for nothing in return and would continue to do so. "My tactics have changed little milady and like on the last... battlefield I look back at my decisions... or lack there of to make a nessacery choice to end life in order to save life..." he said with a brief pause as his eye wandered to the floor looking lost and in another place other then this room. His voice deep and filled with regret and sorrow. "It is a mistake and pause in judgement that will never happen again... I have hundreds of thousands of lost souls on my hand because of it... and never again will I allow events to repeat itself. I have no army, I have only half of what I once was. Yet I will stand on any frontline and look right down the centre of whats coming and stand until I fall... alone if I must..." and with that he stopped speaking as a sigh escaped his lips as he looked around the room slowly.

Then in a instant his eye snapped back to the druids and he spoke softly yet with a serious tone. "What is it you would ask of me miss? Return to the capital and trot around with the noblemen who wish to put themselves on the throne? Remain in the city to keep the gold hungry power mongers at bay? Build a order of knights here in the city to combat this coming doom? Or walk into the belly of the beast itself and perhaps come out as a champion? What do you need, all you have to do is ask..." he finished and then went silent.

[Crimson]

Aa'ondra made a small sound of annoyance.

”Keldon Elsdragon, I ask nothing more than your decision” she said in terse tones ”you came here to seek assistance. Everyone does. But few ever make it past Le Parc.” Then she smiled, a knowing, coy gesture that may have surprised the former Marshall. Was the Archdruidess teasing him? ”The trees of our sanctuary ward off outsiders, Keldon. Only those who possess certain characteristics are ever allowed within. Magic, you see, have fed these woods for generations. The trees can sense your thought, perhaps even hear your heart's song.” For a moment, Aa'ondra held her emerald gaze.

”So much regret” she muttered with a sigh. ”You carry a burden which does not belong to you, Keldon.” Her smile tilted, showing some sadness for the first time. ”And so you wish death would come – face you like an opponent on the battlefield. Hmm?” It was a rhetorical question, since the archdruidess continued without waiting for Keldon's response. ”There is no belly of the beast for you to face. Nor will you summon a circle of knights. This terror, Keldon, is unseen, intangible. You can neither hear, see, or touch it. Do you understand? When the shadow strikes, you will be naked, alone, and unarmed.”

”We all will” she added softly ”but perhaps one champion will give us hope. One man will stand up against the impossible and show Jaedaxia that faith is not born from blood or steel.” Slowly, Aa'ondra approached the Hero of Narim. Her slender hands touched Keldon's shoulders, clasping them as a queen would in the blessing of her bravest knight. ”Keldon Elsdragon, become free of your past mistakes.”

An impossible warmness seemed to seep from the depths of the former Marshall's stomach. It wasn't The Supreme, but was it … joy? Then, he felt the familiar thrill of magical energies pulsating through his body. It spread first from his shoulders where the Archdruidess' hands were, and continued to spread until it reached his feet and arms. Both of them. Where Keldon once had a stump where he lost his forearm and hand in the Southern War, was a growing sense of heaviness – a familiar weight of a limb. But since it was produced by Druidism, there were some distinctions. It was not made of flesh, nor steel. Instead, it had the texture of polished wood. Yet it sprouted, grew, from where Keldon's flesh ended, including a usable hand and fingers. And it responded to Keldon's heeding.

”Serve Jaedaxia” Aa'ondra began in solemn tones ”and this will be your reward. Defeat the Darkness. Save us all.”

[Keldon Elsdragon]

The former marshal could only hold back a soft sight as the women spoke, regret was a understatement in the elfs mind. Everything he had ever attempted to accomplish has failed, his marriage, his career and his sense of morality all but crumbling before him. Curiously however he took note of her tones and actions, somewhat surprised but yet reminded that even those who are powerful, and knowledgeable still held a sense of morality and truth about them. Everyone had the potential for greatness and failure.

As she approached him the marshal was ready to move away, he preferred not to be touched lately. Content with being left alone to sulk in his own mind and sorrow. But then he decided not to, after all he figured the women was simply going to be like his wife and place her hand on his shoulder and offer some type of comfort. Yet when she clasped his shoulders and began to speak Keldons eyes met hers, somewhat confused and bewildered at the sametime. She had still not answered the question to why, why him and not someone else. He had after all done nothing special for her, or anyone else. He had not saved lives had he? No, he had taken dozens of lives through his own and for what? Did he deserve healing, a second chance, or even the appearance of bravery? It was a shadow of his own that lingered over himself that perhaps would be a battle he would have to fight within himself first.

The warm that started within the very depth of his being was like nothing he had ever felt. There was no pain, or suffering within just the weird sensation of joy and mixed emotions as his body started to perhaps in some ways come back to life. The warmth wrapped itself through his very core and moved outwards, but it was not until he felt the weird yet formilure sensation where his left arm was that he looked to where the wood started to reach outwards and then back to the archdruidess. His eyes wide in shock still wondering why, but that was a answer perhaps he would never find.

As the arm finished its creation Keldon simply looked at it and ran his right hand over it. He could feel the wood, like the finest polish of craftsmenship. But the strangest sensation was that he could feel his hand on the arm. It was skin, yet not at the sametime. The sensation was beyond his ability to describe as if he could sense and feel what a tree possibly felt when someone touched it. Moving the fingers around on the arm it felt real, in fact it almost looked like a real arm with the polish. One had to actually pay attention to the arm and hand to realize that it was not flesh, no hair but finely polished wood that responded like real skin.

Keldons single eye looked back to the Druidess, filled with confusion yet a glint of hope. He had no idea what to do, say or react. Should he kneel like a knight and offer his thanks, each time he opened his mouth to say something he just made a unreconizable sound as he attempt to grasp some type of word to make sense of what she had just done, and what was becoming less important by the second... why.

[Crimson]

Aa'ondra didn't wait for Keldon's response.

"This arm is formed by Druidism" she continued "As such, it will react against Sorcery. Please avoid using your arm in the presence of sorcerers or any kind of Force Magic." She smiled a little. Did the Archdruidess know of Keldon's alignment with the sphere? Perhaps. Or she could just be amused, maybe, at the fact that Keldon would not be able to use a teleportation spell on himself without loosing his magical arm. But as with all things, it was a give-and-take. "Your arm is not formed using enchantments or imbuements. For that, you will have to earn my trust and confidence. No, this arm is a simple spell - but a powerful one nonetheless. It can only be dispeled by a master mage or greater. And even then, I made the weave so that it will dissipate harmlessly so you will not loose anymore limbs on my account." Her voice was gravely serious now.

"Should you ever ... misplace this new arm, you will have to return here to the Cathedral and have me remake it. Recast the spell, more like." She paused. "Understand, Keldon, that my time is better spent elsewhere and doing the will of Carmelya. I suggest that you take care of this one." She smiled a little stiffly, perhaps hoping to soften the situation again. The last thing she needed was to sound like a nagging, or annoyed, old woman. A fact which her pupils occasionally teased her about - and something she vehemently opposed. Three hundred eras to an elf wasn't that long.

"You now have the knowledge of our plight" Aa'ondra concluded "what you do with that knowledge is up to you, Keldon. When Winter ends and the land is renewed, so shall the evil that lurks in the shadow of the isle. When it strikes, I pray that you have your shield readied to fight."