Northern Forest of Tob, Sprigganson Settlement, Eight hours before the Zuranon Disaster
Blue Planet sat hunched over the diary of the departed Grover Sprigganson, flipping through page after page to get the information that he wanted.
Currently he was inside the mess hall of the human settlement which, after some general questioning, was revealed to be named the "Spriggan Settlement" by its inhabitants. A name that had been in use ever since the disappearance of Grover Sprigganson himself.
That was as much info as Blue Planet was able to get out of the lumberjacks, who were in a flurry trying to shore up defenses and count the amount of their people lost during the attack.
Events after the ambush of the abominations had been...hectic, to say the least. There were no attempts to fall back asleep afterwards, not when there was a creature that could potentially harm any of the guildmates of Ainz Ooal Gown.
Of course, Nubo, the eyes and ears of Ainz Ooal Gown, seemed to be of a similar mind as well.
"Saw everything that went down. You guys gonna be okay or do I need to send in some backup?" The ophanim player had privately messaged. He had been so quiet that Blue Planet had even forgotten he was watching their adventure back at Nazarick.
"N-no. We should be all good here man. Coup took the brunt of the hit but he doesn't feel any lasting pain," the nature enthusiast said, holding up two fingers to his ear. "Punitto wouldn't have seen anything of what you saw, did he?"
The angelic Templar barked a laugh at that. "He may have put me on parole after Momonga, Bellriver, and Garnet's little stunt, but he's not babysitting me twenty-four seven. I promise he won't be chasing after you."
"Thanks man. We don't need any backup except maybe some more scouting summons and something to beef up the settlement. Got anything for me?"
Proper supplies were sent in not long afterwards, consisting primarily of more shadow demons and a few summoning scrolls for low level cherubs. When morning came, the guildmates of Ainz Ooal Gown had seen to it to teach their human compatriots how to use the items and effectively control them.
Thankfully, nothing had been burned down yet, and the lumberjacks not magically inclined took everything in stride. Ankoro Mocchi Mochi and Coup De Grace, with Lupusregina as an assistant, watched over them to make sure no-one else was hurt or otherwise dragged off.
In the meantime, Blue Planet had decided to spend his time amongst the chaos by further investigating the journal that had been left behind by the treant player so many years ago, hoping to find some sort of reference as to what had just attacked him and his friends the previous night.
So far, the journal entries had been...less than hopeful. The current entry read as "the thirty-first of Lower Spring".
Dear Journal,
I haven't been feeling that great lately. My head has been hurting a lot, and none of my healer friends can do anything about it. They just keep telling me to get some rest, but everytime I go to sleep, I just keep having the same dream over and over again. Those green eyes… I don't know who it is or why they want me to find them, but they don't seem to be in trouble. The green eyes I mean.
More pages were flipped, landing on a seemingly innocuous journal entry that was dated as "the twelfth day of Middle Fire". Blue Planet had been reading through the journal by himself for hours by now, but he still hadn't really grasped the meaning of the dates.
Something I'll have to talk to Pops about when I get the chance, the nature enthusiast thought as he examined the next entry.
Dear Journal,
I can't think. Everything is starting to hurt. I hurt my friends by accident. Tried to give me water, thought he was a stranger and smacked him away. Now he's not there anymore. Couldn't remember his face, why can't I remember his face?
He frowned at that, thumbing the page and idling on what he should do next. It was evident that Grover's condition had begun to worsen as time went on, but Blue Planet believed that the treant player would have fled into the forest long before he had finished writing.
It seemed he was wrong, judging by the amount of pages left in the book itself. However, not all of the pages were necessarily journal entries. Some were notes on translations that the succeeding holders of the diary had made in their attempts to understand their chosen lord's words.
Those entries must've been made while they worked on the fully translated copy the druids and lumberjacks had. They were likely left in the original book since no one seemed eager to remove them from the sacred text.
Something gnawed at Blue Planet when he thought about the situation like that. From how the other lumberjacks and druids had spoken of Grover and how they carried on his legacy, an outside perspective would have assumed they were referring to a god rather than a nine-year old child. At least, Blue Planet thought that was his age, if he remembered correctly.
The Druid could only read on helplessly as the writing further and further degraded. A mess of scribbles and scratches greeted his eyes, until he got to the final entry in the book that was the treant's handwriting.
There was no date, nor the customary "dear journal" that Blue Planet had grown so used to seeing at the top of each block of text. Instead, there was only a single phrase, scrawled in massive, indented writing across the page, as if the young player had used his branches for fingers to write rather than a pencil or pen.
HELP ME
The page was caked in a mixture of mud and an amber colored fluid. Some of it was speckled with rust colored stains.
The cafeteria door creaked open, snapping the magic caster out of his studying and prompting him to clap the book shut with one hand. He looked up from his hunched position, seeing the lithe form of Lupusregina Beta striding toward him.
Blue Planet laughed lightly. "You're a sight for sore eyes. Everything going on alright out there?"
The werewolf pleiade shrugged. "More or less. The humans are adapting surprisingly well, and the human druids are learning very quickly."
"Haven't really gotten to see the magic users yet. From the way they fought last night, I got the sense they were pretty well trained anyways."
"Well...the leader, Pops, is the most proficient, and closer to what you are imagining, Lord Blue Planet. There are others who's magic is reacting somewhat strangely when called upon."
The Druid's brow furrowed at that. "Strangely how? Like they're not very good at it?"
Lupusregina opened her mouth to further explain, then quickly shut it and gestured with her shoulder towards the door.
"I wouldn't presume to order you around, my lord, but would you be willing to come outside for a moment? It might be better for you to see rather than me trying to tell you."
Now it was Blue Planet's turn to shrug, gently sliding the thick tome into his inventory space. He stood up from the bench at the cafeteria table, his cape unfurling behind him but not quite dragging along the ground.
The younger canine led the way, holding the door open for him and allowing him outside. He had to duck slightly to avoid his horns bumping against the door frame. The bells tied to the tips of his antlers rang in response.
What greeted the Druid was a welcome sight, his friends Ankoro and Coup De Grace standing in front of a group of magic casters like a pair of drill sergeants.
The group the heteromorphs headed was pitifully small, numbering only ten, with Pops included. Though the werewolf scout and androsphinx hunter possessed magical inclinations due to their builds, they were not the most adept, like a more dedicated magical caster would be.
Yet while Blue Planet had toiled away at the diary of Grover, the pair had still taken it upon themselves to assess the settlers and their potency with magic. The results were intriguing to say the least.
Simple and inoffensive spells like [Heal] or [Mage's Light] merely flowed with the essence of mana, while more complex and powerful spells could contain circular designs filled with runes, developing more of said rings as the power amped up.
Which is why the Druid was surprised to find that while there were no rings of runes surrounding the hands of the Spriggan settler magicians, there were small, singular runes floating around their glowing appendages.
What was even more astonishing was that where the mana was concentrated, that of the hands, small details like the texture of bark and even small branches grew outwards. One man even had a few leaves sticking out.
Pops's magic was the most pronounced, the entirety of his forearms covered in the effect. In his right hand was a [Mage's Light], the miniature sun nearly blinding all who looked upon it.
In the patriarch's left hand was a spell that Blue Planet didn't recognize, a mass of roots growing from the palm and streaking down like an arboreal fountain. The skin was engraved with forest green roots.
I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like that before. Maybe it has something to do with their relationship with the dryads?
One of the practicing lumberjack mages spotted the Druid, coughing into his elbow and cutting off his flow of mana. Others followed suit.
Pops was the last to do so, if only because the roots he grew from his own body took the longest to wither away. He stood at attention with a gleeful smile on his face.
"Ah, Blue Planet! It's good to see you. I hope you didn't have too much trouble with the book?"
The nature enthusiast hummed in greeting before gesturing to the rest of the magic casters assembled before them. "Happy to see you're practicing, is this everyone left after last night's attack? Also, what's going on with your hands?"
"Unfortunately, this is everyone left of the druids, period. Until we can rescue those taken, this is all that will remain. As for our hands and arms… we keep a very close relationship with the dryads, and sometimes, this can develop into something more between us," Pops explained, clasping his hands in front of him.
"I'm guessing that the missing Tulipa and Svend were like that as well?"
"Exactly. There's a good chunk of people here, but most of them are from E-Rantel, descendants of the original settlers who chose to move a long time ago. All native-born settlers are followers of the Elder Roots Philosophy, but no one is forced to practice if they don't want to. The children of dryads and humans are all practitioners of this philosophy."
Blue Planet nodded in understanding. "So a small number of you actually had kids with the dryads, and I'm guessing that the magic casters I see are all the result of that?"
"You're right, but not all children come out like us. Sometimes they're just human, or just dryad. Every so often you'll get a Dryad-Born like us, with our special 'condition'. Unfortunately, the effects fade with each generation, but the potency remains as powerful as ever," Pops grinned, gesturing grandly to his fellow mages. For his advanced age, he had surprisingly phenomenal dental work.
It was a rather concise explanation of what the nature enthusiast guessed was close to two-hundred years of breeding and intermingling, but to see so little of their numbers was slightly disheartening.
It reminded Blue Planet of when he would be out on conservationist expeditions, desperately trying to save the wildlife of his old world or at least collecting DNA samples for potential cloning projects.
Something fierce bloomed within his chest, a fiery desire to preserve and protect the hybrid species of humans presented before him. He vowed not to let a single hair on any of their heads be touched from then on.
Other thoughts began to race through his mind as well, as the deeper implications of what Pops had said finally reached conscious thought. Though they looked completely human, they displayed traits that spoke of a hybrid heritage, something that, by all old world logic, should be impossible.
Maybe the inherent magic of the dryads has something to do with it? Some sort of binding agent in their DNA that allows them to mate like this?
More and more lines of intrigue broke off, branching into schools of thought not dissimilar to back home. Were the dryads more humanoid than he previously thought? Did they share a common ancestor with the humans of this new world?
That alone spawned other theories about the possibility of different races breeding with one another and birthing entirely new species. It could be something he could dedicate himself to, as he reworked the Sixth Floor of Nazarick.
Ankoro and Coup De Grace entered Blue Planet's vision, cutting off his rampant mind and giving their guildmate and the pleiade a friendly nod. Ankoro was the first to speak.
"Watching these guys at work is pretty cool, but there is a matter we need to discuss privately, man. Could we…?"
The Druid grunted in response, quickly walking off to the side of the small clearing where the mages had been practicing. The others joined him, huddling in close to ensure nothing would be heard outside of their little circle.
"I believe we need an update on your findings, old friend," Coup De Grace said curtly, "what have you managed to find in the child's writings?"
"I was kinda wondering that myself, Lord Blue Planet," Lupusregina said, "I want to know what happened to this 'disciple' of yours. He seems interesting."
Blue Planet rolled his shoulders and launched into what he had discovered over the last few hours while reading the book. As he talked, he carefully watched the expressions of his friends in reaction to his news.
The werewolf scout was the most emotional, constantly grimacing or otherwise looking off to the side with a mournful expression. As always, Lupusregina followed her lead, though her feelings seemed just as genuine as her "aunt's".
The androsphinx hunter would occasionally raise an eyebrow, but his spectrum of thoughts were never betrayed by the otherwise excellent poker face he held.
The other three were silent all the way up to the conclusion of his tale, taking a few minutes to mull over his report before speaking again.
"You believe that his mental affliction may have gotten the better of him," the feline said, his words sounding more like a statement than a question.
"Like I said, I don't know the full extent of it. Neuroscience was never my field of expertise anyways, I just know he looked sickly and what he shared with me," Blue Planet replied.
Ankoro hummed. "Maybe becoming his own avatar accelerated the process? Or maybe it just continued along and hit him at the worst time possible. Still, poor kid."
"I know he's not a supreme being, but my heart can't help but ache for one who actually saw you all for how cool and powerful and benevolent you all are," the junior canine put in her two credits.
"Either way, whatever happened to him doesn't change a thing," the seilenoi said, "We need to make sure these people are safe and that we get back whoever's gone missing. Do we have a different plan or are we sticking with what Pops wanted?"
The plan in question was relatively simple, especially considering the sort of firepower at the heteromorph's disposal. They, alongside Pops and his chosen mages, would go and retrieve the dryads from their community grove.
Naaru would most likely be expecting them, as he had been the one to send the guildmates of Ainz Ooal Gown to retrieve the humans anyways. From there, the group would be led to the private grove of the demon tree, Zy'tl Q'ae.
Everything had happened in such a short amount of time that Blue Planet realized that he hadn't really taken the time to research, well, anything by this point. Despite the battles and info he and his friends had already learned, they were still in the dark about some things.
It was a situation that would need to be rectified, for while by now they had a good idea of what could be going on, there were still unknown variables to account for.
What would Punitto Moe do in this situation? How would he go about this?
The most obvious answer would be to interrogate anyone directly involved with the events that had transpired and bleed them for every drop of knowledge they had, employing methods that would be less than ideal.
But in the short time that he had come to know these humans, he found them charming and unique in their ways of life, even if he didn't fully understand them yet. Their relationship with the dryads was also a bonus.
No, he should do what had always worked best for him in the old world. Unlike some of his more bloodthirsty guildmates, he would make sure to ask politely.
"Pops, a moment of your time?" Blue Planet called out to the patriarch. He broke from the huddle he and the others had made and strode up to the elderly man.
The head of the settlement waved off the rest of the mages, who returned to practicing with their magic for the mission that would soon be coming. He inched his way towards the guildmates.
"Sure, my lord, what can I help with?" Pops began to say, only for the seilenoi Druid to shake his head at him.
"You don't have to do the whole 'lord' title. Just 'Blue Planet' is fine. Or even BP. Same thing goes for you too, Lupusregina," he said, deciding to say something now before the chance quickly slipped away from him.
The younger canine looked as if she wanted to protest, but retained a neutral expression after debating on the issue. Pops hesitated but gave the seilenoi a warm smile.
"I understand completely. What do you need, Blue Planet?"
Tension he didn't even know he had eased off of his shoulders at the more comfortable term. He found it easier to confide his thoughts to the older man.
He launched into a basic list of questions about their current situation, questions that, while menial, still held great importance to the task at hand.
Blue Planet led the conversation initially, though his guildmates and the pleiade would jump in from time to time to ask questions that he had forgotten. They were simple but weighty.
"Who exactly was kidnapped? I understand you've lost about a dozen or so of your people thus far?" Was the first one the Druid asked.
"They were all Dryad-Born, though they were in various stages of magical development," Pops responded.
"What's this demon tree that Naaru mentioned? Some sort of monster?" Was another inquiry that Ankoro put forth.
That one made the patriarch pause, likely considering his answer before replying. "I don't know exactly what it is. Most of what I do know comes from Naaru himself, and that's only because he was the one to fight it with a group of heroes. He told us that Zy'tl Q'ae was the one who killed Grover."
Coup De Grace grumbled while ruffling his feathers. "So we have heard, but tell me, how can you be certain that it truly did kill your patron? What if he died from his illness?"
"Because when Naaru went to confront the demon tree, he found the bark of Grover scattered all around it. He also said that there was a lot of amber surrounding the monster's mouth."
"Sounds like he may have been eaten, then."
"… I don't like to think about it, but that's what I concluded too. It's a terrible fate, what happened to him."
New information like that was excellent, especially now that Blue Planet could try and establish a motive of some kind to the kidnappings, even if it was as basic as hunting for food.
But still, the idea that dryads and likely the humans had been lured out with the mimicked voices of loved ones sent an unpleasant shiver up the Druid's spine. His ears subconsciously began to listen in on even the most minute of sounds of his environment.
Something like mimicking voices would take skill and perhaps conscious thought of some kind. It makes sense, given how the big one that attacked Coup could talk.
"One last question, before we start to head off and finish up preparations," the seilenoi said.
Pops gave another kind smile. "Of course, what is it?"
"What do you expect to find when we do get to this demon tree's grove?"
The elder quieted, his expression downtrodden. He rubbed his hands together as his lips pursed. "I hope to find my people alive, if not well. I hope to be able to find my grandson is much the same. I hope to also find the missing dryads, too. There's a lot of hopes I could tell you, but I'd rather not count all our eggs just yet."
The Druid said nothing else. Gesturing for the man to return to his people and continue practicing their magic or do whatever else they needed. He looked up to the sky for a moment, noting that the time of day was around mid-afternoon.
"Come on, we should finish summoning the last of our reinforcements, and then we can pack up and head off," he said. He pulled out a few different scrolls from his inventory, as did his guildmates.
The reinforcements that he had requested were simple summons in the form of cherubs and shadow demons. After the rude antics of Temperance when asking for the first three, the magic caster had not been keen to call upon him again for any more favors.
Especially not when he's still ranting about data crystals that Bellriver owes him.
The cherubs had been an added precaution, to serve as a preliminary guard to their group as they made their way to the demon tree.
When he had started playing Yggdrasil for the first time and learned about cherubs, he had thought of the cute, chubby little angel babies that were present in Renaissance Era art. Something that should have been defenseless and bumbling.
Oh, how wrong he had been.
Blue Planet held up a scroll and showed it off to the mages, who were now staring at them after Coup whistled for their attention.
"Gentlemen," he began, "I have no idea what waits in the forest, and I don't want any of you to go in unprepared. What I have here is a scroll that can summon a decently powerful angel, at least for your skill level."
The scroll was unfurled, to show the various symbols and ancient scripture that had been drawn upon it. "I'm going to start summoning them now. Just a bit of warning, they're not exactly fun to look at, so make sure to stay calm. Sound good?"
The mages nodded in understanding, patiently waiting for him to do as he said. The Druid unfurled one of the first scrolls, handing off the others to his friends so they could do it at the same time. He didn't want to spend all day doing it by himself.
"Okay, good," Blue Planet said, "You guys have handled weird, funky looking things so far, so I'm not expecting this to be a giant leap in your understanding. Still, avert your eyes if things get too bright."
The men stared at him in confusion while Blue Planet focused on the scroll, his pool of mana shining brightly in his mind's eye. He wouldn't need to expend any of his own, as that's what the scrolls were meant to be used for anyways.
His friends mimed his actions, their own scrolls crinkling as they were unfurled and readied.
The ancient language inscribed on the scrolls lit up like a beacon, the edges burning as the magic overwhelmed its frail constitution. The men's eyes widened at that, murmuring amongst themselves.
In the place of scrolls were small orbs of pulsating light no larger than the average man's head. Their illumination glowed brighter and brighter, forcing the lumberjacks to avert their eyes and step back. Even the heteromorphs had to squint due to the intensity. A persistent hum rang across the settlement.
When the light finally dulled and the men could see again, their jaws literally and figuratively dropped, gazing upon the creatures that the three heteromorphs had summoned. The lumberjacks who were not magically inclined but had come over to watch cried out in terror, pointing at the macabre display of holy magic.
The body of the cherub was a mass of seven pairs of dove-white wings, fluttering and flapping in seeming slow motion to keep itself aloft. The feathers shimmered with a divine glow, the tips honed to a razor edge.
At the center of the mass was a humanoid head, eyes as pale as polished marble, golden flecks of energy surging out and around. Olympian ringlets curled downwards and flowed over invisible shoulders.
On either side of the humanoid face were the snarling mouths of animals. On the left temple emerged the glowering visage of a bull, snorting in bovine rage. On the right temple was the noble physique of a lion, which displayed pearly fangs in active defiance of would-be foes.
Jutting from the chin was the snapping beak of an eagle, cawing for all the world to see. It's glowing eyes focused on both everything and nothing all at once. A fearsome adversary indeed for anything below level fifty-five.
"I was expecting them to start stampeding like animals when they saw the cherubs. I guess that just goes to show how great a presence to keep them calm, Lo- er, Blue Planet," Lupusregina complimented from behind the Druid. He could practically hear the smile in her voice.
Ankoro chuckled. "Hey Coup. I think we found your mom finally. Want to go up and give her a kiss?"
"Shut up, pup," the androsphinx said without missing a beat.
The nature enthusiast cracked a grin at that, something genuine and heartfelt that warmed him all over. Silly little banter amongst friends, he found, to be an excellent remedy for dealing with stressful situations.
Pops approached the magic caster, aghast and shaking like a leaf in the wind. "Blue Planet, this is- This is a miracle! I'd heard stories about similar things from the Slane Theocracy, but this…"
"What? The cherubs? They're unique but not very powerful. They'll definitely be useful for the journey ahead," Blue Planet said casually, missing the absolutely gleeful appearance of the old man.
He gestured to his guildmates, who began to use up their own scrolls to summon more cherubs. The few brave druids and lumberjacks brave enough to get close to the cherub jumped back in fright when the eagle head snapped at them.
Once all the scrolls were used up, summoning no less than a dozen cherubs, the seilenoi returned his attention to the patriarch. "How quickly can you get everyone you want ready for this trip?"
"I can have them ready to go within the hour, once they have their gear packed up."
"Good, because no matter what happens on this trip," Blue Planet said, the trees of the Forest of Tob looming over the settlement with the weight of an eclipse, "We're gonna be bringing your people home, one way or another."
Retrieving the dryads had been a simple matter, and their numbers bolstered their party to considerable heights in only a matter of minutes. Their trip had been short and sweet overall.
However, they snagged on a small problem when meeting with the patriarch of the dryads.
The last time the heteromorphs had been in the community grove, it had been a tidy and orderly place, with oaks and spruces and birches all arranged in a neat perimeter around the area. Singular arboreal specimens of all varieties had been interspaced randomly throughout.
The ground had been torn open, bleeding dark clods of moist soil and clay. Roots had been upturned and stuck out like thorns, while whirlwinds of leaves spiraled out of control. Dryads of any sort were nowhere to be found, likely hiding in fear of their leader's wrath.
Naaru stood in the middle of the half circle of elder oaks, pacing back and forth agitatedly. The other trees shook from the force of his rage. His eyes were narrowed and his lips set into a thin line.
His hands practically strangled the simple and flower covered spear. The colors of each flower ranged from scarlet red to sunset yellow. The vines of the buds wrapped around the middle to form a padded handle. The body and spear-head were all sequoia brown.
"Whew, man," Ankoro whistled when she stepped through an opening in the grove that had been left conveniently open for the Dryad-Born and denizens of Nazarick. "Looks like ol' Naaru can really throw a fit!"
Said dryad roared, patches of grass and dirt flying around from the force of his fury. Even in his emotional state of mind he had the sense to direct any projectiles away from the heteromorphs and Dryad-Born.
While Blue Planet knew that he and his friends would be perfectly fine, he didn't want to risk the other humans getting harmed. He held up a hand to bid the ensemble halt once they were all in the community grove.
Pops was the only one to continue when everyone else hesitated. Evidently he had more experience with his counterpart's anger, or he was extraordinarily trusting in not getting pummeled.
"Calm down, old friend," the human patriarch said, raising both hands to chest height, "What's got your roots in a twist? I always knew your warrior's spirit was still there, but I didn't think it was this violent."
Naaru slammed the butt of his spear into the ground, the whirlwinds of leaves and dust settling down. "You know full well the extent of my wrath, Frode, unlike my foolish grand-pistol! Of all the stupid, idiotic, stubborn things that she could have done, this serves as the canopy!"
The elder dryad's ranting went on for several more minutes, pacing again and again as he gesticulated wildly with his spear. Some of the other dryads began to melt out of their trees, but kept a healthy distance from their leader.
Ankoro smirked with approval at the choice curse words that Naaru used, while Lupusregina quietly giggled from behind her. Coup De Grace nodded along, though he shifted from paw to paw.
Blue Planet was the only other besides Pops to approach the irate tree spirit, his height and antler's casting a small shadow over the pair of rulers.
"Everything alright? I'm guessing Pinison went and did something she wasn't supposed to, didn't she?" The Druid asked.
Naaru managed to calm down long enough to spit out, "Yes! She specifically went out in search of the others when I told her not to. I even warned her not to leave with the warriors around. Apparently she took that as an invitation to leave while they were training."
"She has a rebellious streak," Coup De Grace mentioned casually, "I hope that she is well, and that we find her as such. We came to find you for that very purpose as a matter of fact."
Ankoro spoke up, "Yeah. It's time we get your people back and end your nightmare. Those little beasts and their...I guess the leader, came and attacked us last night."
The elder tree spirit's rage fully subsided, assuming a sage and patient state. "You actually saw them? Tell me in detail what happened."
With a collective effort from the heteromorphs and Pops, they shared a condensed story of what had happened the previous night. The dryad's serene expression shifted to horrified as he listened in, as did the expressions of others who came close enough to listen.
When he heard the description of the gargantuan shadow beast, Naaru's grip tightened and the flowers which wrapped around the spear's body bloomed into full effect.
"So they not only revealed themselves to you, but also sought to take some of your number...I'm assuming the other humans with you are all Dryad-Born, Frode?" The elder dryad asked.
Pops bobbed his head in response. Blue Planet found it intriguing that the human patriarch had been given a different name, especially when he distinctly recalled Pops stating his real name was Hagnar. When he looked over his shoulder at the other settlers, they all cringed at the new name.
Naaru stroked his chin while a few stray streaks of foliage fell from his scalp. "Then we must get moving immediately. There's no time to waste."
With that being said, a line of around a dozen different warrior dryad's emerged from their trees. As their bodies formed, bark from their home tree flew off and wrapped around their forms to make a specialized "bark" armor.
It was streamlined and form fitted, most likely to provide the best mobility and defense when in combat. Uniform and clean seams marked where the plates interlocked together. Each dryad had a closed-faced helmet on their head, concealing their features.
Unlike their leader's, their choice weapons were decorated only by whatever colors of paint or dye the wielder's themselves took a liking to. They were painted in intricate, flowing designs that resembled landslides after a summer storm, or the flowing of a river across a forest floor.
The dryad patriarch himself had no such need for decorations, for his spear glowed chlorophyll green. The magical aura spread to his own body, encompassing him in his entirety and bulking him up.
The sheen was so bright that beyond the fluctuation of overall shape, Blue Planet could not tell what was going on beneath it. A high-pitched whine resonated throughout the grove.
When the light faded, Naaru was covered head to toe in his own bark armor. But whereas his comrades were sleek and graceful in their armaments, the patriarch's attire was considerably more bulky.
It seemed more typical of a medieval Knight, with mighty pauldrons, bustling greaves and gauntlets, and a helmet with visor. A small "plume" of branches streaked out from the back of it.
The armor itself looked almost too heavy to bear, but Naaru moved about with startling comfortability and agility. He pushed up his visor, his onyx eyes narrowed.
"Come, I will lead the way, alongside Frode and Blue Planet. The rest of you shall cover our flank and sides, alongside whatever those are."
He gestured to the floating cherubs, with their eldritch and inhuman attributes, and then pointed towards another point alongside the perimeter of the Community Grove. The tree line split and parted, creating another pathway for which they could follow.
Unlike the way which linked the grove and Spriggan Settlement, there was no clearly defined walkway. It was well and truly Forest for miles beyond, complete with random roots, wildlife, and greenery to get lost in.
Naaru led the pack, his armor crackling and crunching with the movement of bark plates and whatever buffer he had on between his "skin" and adornments. Pops, or Frode, or Hagnar, was right behind him, with Blue Planet trailing to serve as a trio of guides for their party of twenty-eight.
Blue Planet knew that he couldn't allow any of the men or women in front of him to fall, for the dryads, despite their short time together, had also worked their way into the Druid's heart.
The protection spells rose unbidden, lustrous illuminations from his magic covered the group as a whole, extending to his friends as well. Ankoro and Coup De Grace both gave him smiles of appreciation. Lupusregina wore an expression as if Christmas had come early that year.
Every little bit helps, and it makes up for being caught off guard last night, the seilenoi thought.
"You wield powerful magic, Blue Planet of Elsewhere," Naaru commented, "the texts do not do you and your companions justice."
Blue Planet frowned. "Yeah, which reminds me about our first encounter. You said you could sense our auras, right?"
"That is correct. You're wondering why I treated you as I did when you first arrived, yes?"
A deep pit of surprising anger rose up from the core of his being. The question leapt unbidden from his mouth as a result.
"If you knew who we were when we first arrived, then why bother with the whole 'holding-us-at-spear-point'?"
Pops snapped his neck to look at his compatriot at shock. Naaru didn't even move his neck.
"Your name was familiar, but the stink of your home confused me. I had no idea if you were the demon tree coming to finish me off wearing the face and name of a familiar, or if Grover had neglected to mention that his teachers were more sinister than he led on," the elder dryad said.
The anger slightly dissipated, as Blue Planet analyzed the patriarch's words. On the surface, they made sense. If he understood the contents of the former treant's diary correctly, then both the humans and dryads practically worshiped him as a god.
Yet Naaru had seemed more wary than anything else, while Pops had welcomed the Druid and his friends with open arms. Where there had been accommodations from the settlers in almost every way, the dryads seemed intent on making the heteromorphs leave as soon as possible, even if it was for good intentions.
That doesn't seem fair. We were only in the grove for a few minutes, while we've been with Pops-Frode-Hagnar-ugh, that's gonna take some getting used to, and his people for about a day.
Still, something about Naaru's demeanor didn't sit right with him, but with the situation at hand, he'd just have to trust that the elder dryad wasn't planning anything nefarious.
"If only I could read minds…," Blue Planet muttered under his breath. The group had moved on into the greater forest. They weren't fully running, but they were jogging at a brisk pace.
Almost immediately the tell-tale signs of the abominations pushed down on him like a lead blanket. The air turned frigid and the pinprick sensation of a thousand eyes bore into the seilenoi.
He affixed his mask onto his face and readjusted his bracers. The bells in his antlers jingled as he glanced over his shoulder to his guildmates.
Coup De Grace assumed a bipedal stance and had his gilded crossbow out, a bolt already loaded and blue flames flickering from the tip. The runes painted into his flow shone with magical potential.
Ankoro Mocchi Mochi's coat was standing on end and her fangs were bared in a feral snarl. The golden, magical rope that made up part of her arsenal wrapped around her left forearm. In each hand were her signature daggers.
Lupusregina pulled the strange weapon she had wielded last night from her own inventory. Its black iron body and cross shaped head lowered to pierce and bisect any foe in the werewolf's way. As per usual, she mirrored Ankoro's actions and growled.
"On your feet, men," Pops shouted, his hands and eyes glowing green, "we are far more prepared this time! Let us show them what the followers of the Elder Roots are made of!"
The Dryad-Born shouted in challenge, their sisters of the Forest following suit. Naaru took a stance and literally planted his feet into the dirt, roots growing from the sides of his bark plate sabatons.
The large party stood back to back, forming a tight circle with Blue Planet, Ankoro, and Coup. Lupusregina put herself on the frontlines with the other fighters, brandishing her weapon.
The Druid's muscles felt so tense that his tendons might snap. His fur shivered with anxious excitement as mana coursed through his veins. His eyes darted around through his mask, searching for any indicators that more abominations would be coming out.
A patch of bushes rustled somewhere in front of the group. Almost immediately all weapons and focal points of magic aimed at it. No one moved an inch, distractions, thoughts, and feelings shoved to the wayside to focus on the still swishing flora.
"We know you're capable of intelligence," Coup De Grace spoke up, aiming down the sights of his crossbow, "so heed our words. Exit the bush, slowly, and we will give you enough time to see your killers before we collectively obliterate you."
The shifting ceased, stray leaves gently floating to the ground from the harsh movements earlier. Blue Planet's staff was bursting at the seams with magical energy, ready to be unleashed at any moment.
A few more seconds of silence passed, and then the culprit revealed themselves. Rather than coming from the bushes, it emerged from behind an oak tree. The shadow of said specimen had darkened just enough for something to pass through.
It was one of the abominations, slithering out to greet the large hunting party. Blue Planet's eyes widened when it held both hands up in a "surrender" motion.
"Stay...your hands...lead you...come in...peace…," it gurgled, beady red eyes staring down the group. While other members of its kind exhibited heights slightly exceeding the average man, this one barely met chest level.
The horns were just barely growing in. The skull of the creature was also more reptilian in its overall shape, and a skeletal tail whipped behind it.
Coup De Grace wasted no time, hefting his crossbow and aiming right at its head.
"Funny you should say that," the androsphinx rumbled, "We were led to believe otherwise with the attack your brethren committed last night."
The beast stood defiant, lowering its limbs and standing unnaturally still. "Did...what was necessary...for pups...needed...more…"
It flicked a wrist at the Dryad-Born. "Needed...these ones...needed...better...heirs…"
The seilenoi's staff still crackled with power, half of his mind focused on the monstrosity and the other debating on whether or not he should blast it into oblivion.
But as he listened to the halting speech and watched its unrelenting posture in the face of almost certain death, he could not help but feel a tinge of admiration alongside the skin-crawling revulsion at the putrid walking carcass.
The nauseating smell it exhibited and its instinctual wrongness all tore at his psyche in a way he hadn't experienced before. Even dealing with animal poachers in the old world hadn't been that reviling.
If anything, these things almost seem deliberately made wrong.
Despite his better judgement and growing interest, he chose an alternative path other than complete annihilation for the abomination.
"What do you really want?" Blue Planet asked. Several side glances dug into him from his party.
"Progenitor...wanted...you...You are...wanted…," it replied. There was no other movement on its behalf otherwise.
"Progenitor? Is that your leader? What does he want with us?"
"Not...others...you…"
Now Blue Planet was confused, and his face scrunched up beneath his iron-wood mask. He spared a look to his guildmates, who did not turn to look at him but answered his unasked question.
"Whatever you want, we'll follow you man. Just say the word," Ankoro said, her voice deathly calm.
"Yeah! I'd follow you anywhere, Lord-, er, Blue Planet!" Lupusregina quipped.
Coup De Grace said nothing, but he did offer an approving nod. His crossbow bolt was still aimed for right between the eyes of the offending being.
Blue Planet sighed, his mind being made up then and there. He lowered his staff.
"Okay, hypothetically, let's say I agree to go with you. Where do we go from there?"
The abomination chittered. "Lead...you...to grove...Speak with...Progenitor...Only...find you…"
"And the rest of my party?"
A pregnant pause followed after the second question. "No...harm...Only...come with me…"
Blue Planet shook his head. "Sorry, but if you really want me to come with, then the others are a package deal. Either we all go, or none of us go, and if none of us go, I can't guarantee that my comrades won't just blast you."
The dryads jabbed their spears at the air to emphasize the seilenoi's point. The Dryad-Born activated their mana reserves and allowed their unique brand of magic to flow from their hands.
Pops and Naaru stood side-by-side, the magic caster standing behind the heavily armored tree spirit. Their tense shoulders and smoldering glares also drove home where they stood on the matter.
The creature said no more, gazing down into the dirt to ponder on the nature enthusiast's words. Every so often it would tilt its head, probably listening to the words of its master.
While it seemed relaxed, the Druid's resistance had evidently surprised it from how quiet it had gotten. Had it expected him to just come willingly at its request?
Furthermore, why meet with him now, after fending off the abominations in their failed assault? What had changed from over a half a day ago? What else could be at play to make such a dramatic shift in behavior?
Maybe my attack on the big one that punched Coup scared them more than I think. It's possible they want to talk to make an alliance of some sort. But then again, these things seem more like animals than strategists.
A wooden creak stirred Blue Planet from his thoughts as the creature looked back up. "Fine...follow...but walk...enjoy...reflect…"
It turned to go even deeper into the Forest of Tob, deftly weaving between trees and hopping over small bunches of stones.
The Druid immediately broke from the group, his own curiosity practically yanking him towards the abomination. His enhanced hearing could hear the quiet but heavy footsteps of his party following behind him.
I'd better be right in doing this.
A leisurely walk through the forest, contrary to popular belief, did nothing to smooth the nerves when dealing with stress.
Of course, there were outside factors to take into account.
Blue Planet knew that his mission, and his group's mission as a whole, had been to go and rescue the missing humans and dryads from whatever horrid fate had befallen them. Whether that meant recovering their bodies or actually finding the victims alive was a matter for deliberation.
By all means, it should've been a power march through the forest. Directly entering the heart of the matter, magic firing full force and the floral fury of a small group of dryad warriors and their patriarch would've and should've been the means through which "rescue" occurred.
Instead, hetermorph and human alike paced themselves on their new path, bundles of anxious energy pooling from all members at the deviation in the plan. Their new guide, the reptilian abomination, was seemingly leading them to their own leader.
Overall, it took maybe an hour and a half to two hours to arrive where they wished to go. But the added company did nothing to alleviate repressed battle-rage and murky fear of the humans and dryads.
Blue Planet himself was concerned for his charges more-so than himself, for at least he knew that the creature in front of him could do nothing against either he or his guildmates and the pleiade.
As the Druid walked and used his staff as a hiking stick, leaves would occasionally fall on his head from the snapping and shivering branches above. Shadows dotted across the moist earth, shifting from the movements of what were more beasts.
They flitted across his vision, an assortment of animal skulls for craniums to add to his mental collection. They never got close, but that did not stop them from jeering and snarling in their broken voices.
Blue Planet watched as one with the skull of a wolf melted in and out of existence between shadows, bearing scarlet dipped fangs with a gruesome smile.
Another with the common deer skull patiently sat on the sidelines of their path, watching as each member of the mixed party slowly passed by.
Another which had the skull of some sort of primate grew bold enough to venture close, reaching out with an unusually long, three-fingered hand to tap at the boots of the elder seilenoi.
The guide swatted it away, hissing like a rattlesnake.
"Not...for you…," it said, stopping to reprimand its fellow monstrosity, "Follow...but...do not touch…"
The primate skull clacked its jaws, falling backwards into its own shadow and disappearing right before their eyes.
Those which had been watching apparently got the message, keeping a far healthier distance but still being quite visible in the tree line beyond.
No other distractions occurred for the last leg of their journey. At least not in the form of fauna.
Blue Planet prided himself on keeping a meticulous catalogue of various plant species over the entirety of his career as an arboreal scientist. He had to, if he were to be useful when Project Genesis came around.
Such an undertaking would have required all of his knowledge of the various wildlife and greenery of his world, either extinct or still living. To be able to reseed Earth with life with nearly unfathomable technology was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He had been a part of both morally sound and morally questionable experiments in cloning research and hybridization efforts. Plants that could grow harvestable synth meat, livestock that could gestate young in a week or less, genetic enhancements for the human workforce and population at large were commonplace in his former line of work.
But for all of his decades of training and careful genetic manipulation, nothing could have really prepared him for what he encountered.
Where life had been abundant and grew in droves in the Northern Forest of Tob, the flora of the new biome they entered grew in strange and unnatural manners unlike anything the nature enthusiast had seen.
The bones and flesh of dead animal cadavers had been planted into the ground, their soil painted crimson with life fluids. From these pulpy, organic masses grew rows of teeth like the petals of a flower.
The stems of flowers were the femurs of animals, while the leaves were formed of sheets of shaped grafts of skin. Ribcages served as morbid forms of Venus Fly Traps, the sharp shards of ribs snapping shut on anything that wandered directly into their vicinity.
Trees were covered in a viscous, tar substance that stank of decay and sickly-sweet rot. The bark underneath fusing together into a single, homogenous surface devoid of any texture.
Pelts of fur became substitutes for grass, crawling with pus-colored maggots between their coarse blades. Shrubbery was no more than pulsating sacs of golden fluid, which grew more of the beasts in their fetal stages.
For all intents and purposes, the group of humans and heteromorphs were witnessing a graveyard garden, the remains of former victims having been torn apart and repurposed to form the eldritch environment.
Some of the Dryad-Born began to vomit at the sight of the fresh horror, while the natural Dryad's gasped and covered their mouths, or at least tried to through their helmets.
Naaru yelled, waving his spear in a wide arc as if to ward off the alien plants. Pops was so pale in the face that his blood vessels could be seen clearly without assistance. Copious amounts of sweat dotted his brow.
Ankoro swore at the sights before her, while her partner Coup De Grace let loose a rare expression of profound disgust. Lupusregina stared at the guildmates, incomprehension lining her features as she tried to take note of her surroundings.
"This place was not meant for anything natural to live here," Blue Planet said quietly, surveying the new area.
"We...build...Use...all that is...left over…," explained the reptilian abomination, "Come...it is...time...Meet Progenitor…"
Said beast continued onwards, reaching a fortified wall of twisted and sickly oaks. A portion of it had already been opened. Discarded pieces of bark flaked the earth, alongside their sources.
Before the Druid could follow, a hand gripped his bracer. His arm tensed, instinctively ready to smack it away if one of the creatures had tried to touch him.
Thankfully, it was Naaru who came into his vision at the last second. Though his face was hidden by the helmet, waves of worry rolled off of the elder tree spirit.
"Blue Planet, a moment of your time?" He asked.
"Sure, but what's up? If you're worried about the demon tree or Zy'tl Q'ae or whatever you call it, then I'll make sure to take care of it the moment I see it. You have my word," the seilenoi responded.
Naaru shook his head. "No, that is not it, oh great one. I wished to inform you that this place, whatever it has become, is completely sealed off from my senses. My people and I...we have an innate ability to sense the life force of our home and it's denizens."
"So what are you saying? That this place is dead, or that you just can't 'feel' anything around us?"
"Whatever foul power is at play here is beyond Zy'tl Q'ae. The fact that it has not come out to challenge us already concerns me as well. Whatever this 'Progenitor' has to say, make sure that it is not lulling you with lies or a false sense of security."
The Druid gently pried his forearm away from the older dryad. "I understand. The cherubs and my friends will keep you all safe. I promise, so long as I'm breathing, not a damn thing will hurt you."
Naaru's eyes had no visible pupils, but Blue Planet could feel them all the same, sluggishly tracing the definition of his face as if he was committing it to memory. Then he sighed wistfully.
"Elder Roots be with you, great one."
The patriarch stepped away, allowing the satyr to resume his jog to the grove's entrance. The reptilian abomination stood at the threshold.
Their eyes met for a moment, and a begrudging respect passed from the amalgamation to Blue Planet. It clacked its jaws once, and slinked away to wherever it was that others of its kind chose to be.
He took one final peek at his party, seeing the many expectant stares of friends and acquaintances alike. All of them fidgeted in one way or another, strained and eyeing the abominations that littered the inhospitable landscape.
The clammy weight of frosty temperatures greeted Blue Planet as he stepped through into the grove, leaving the others behind. His hooves sank into the moist grove.
Directly in his line of sight was what he assumed was the demon tree.
Its mighty form towered over him in such a way that he was no more a toddler in height, even with the added length of his horns. The bulk of it was so wide around that it looked capable of serving as the pillars in the throne room of Nazarick.
However, it had been reduced to a gray and shriveled corpse, with the top half of what he presumed to be its mouth torn off. The trunk sagged now in a pitiful state of desecration.
Standing off to its side was the shadow beast itself, its titanic shape nearly twice the size of the Druid himself. Save for the glowing pinpricks for eyes that it had, the rest of it was covered in inky blackness.
Its limbs were lanky, and the head narrowed to a point much like a deer's skull. Protrusions rose above its brow in the silhouette of antlers. The light that pierced the canopy of the private grove bent around its body as if afraid to touch it.
There were no attempts to hide or ambush, front and center in a way that was nearly impossible to miss, despite its gloomy appearance.
At least it's not trying to ambush me…again. Now we're getting somewhere.
"You, uh, you must be 'Progenitor', right?" started Blue Planet, "One of your minions told me you wanted to talk to me?"
The shadow beast never took its fiery sight off of him. It raised a single hand, index finger outstretched to point at his chest. It gurgled non-threateningly.
"Right. Well, you've done a lot of damage. Hurt a lot of people, kidnapped them, to be more precise. Got anything to say for yourself?"
The beast took a single tentative step forward, then another towards the Druid. Each footfall shook the ground, crashing against him greater than lightning in a thunderstorm.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The entire space shuddered from its presence, the dead oaks giving way and crashing to the ground. Rotted vegetation blew away and soil upturned itself to crawl with maggots.
Soon, all that remained was the dead remains of Zy'tl Q'ae and a few other sturdier trees. Up near their peaks were clumps of black sludge, a human and dryad paired together on each tree. Blue Planet counted a dozen members from either species.
It took him a moment to realize that with the removal of the wall of trees, Blue Planet and "Progenitor" were exposed to the outside world. The lead monstrosity's index was now gently resting against the seilenoi's sternum.
Several pairs of feet pounded towards both of them, a combination of heteromorphs, humans, and abominations converging on their location.
The beasts went to the side of their leader, hiding either between its legs or to either side. They bore their fangs and claws but made no move to attack
Blue Planet was similarly reinforced with his friends and allies, each presenting weaponry fit to decimate armies if the need arose.
Neither side said much, engaging in a stare down so heated it was a wonder the forest didn't spontaneously combust. For the first time since he arrived, the Druid felt a trickle of sweat trail its way down the nape of his neck.
He knew that he would never be harmed, that the animals before him were not strong enough. At least, the little ones weren't.
Their leader was an entirely different story. It possessed strength enough to push back Coup De Grace and throw off Ankoro with little effort. Who knew what the upper limits of its power could be, let alone what other abilities might be in its arsenal.
A feeling of icy-cold air and the full brunt of being watched was upon Blue Planet now, and he was far from the only one affected by it. The humans and dryads, in particular, were becoming antsy.
Either they scratched at their arms or some other portion of their body, or had their heads on a swivel to check their surroundings and ensure they weren't being surrounded by more of the abominations.
"Progenitor" was the first to break the unease, tapping its index against Blue Planet's chest and gurgling again.
It then reached for the seilenoi's hand, raising it up to chest level. Instinctively, the seilenoi yanked his appendage back. Everyone else hoisted their weapons or activated their magic.
"Hey! I don't know what your deal is but if you want to talk, then talk! Otherwise, either let us take back the people you stole or we fight you all for them."
"You would be wise to listen, beast," Coup De Grace warned in his usual tone, "our patience is beginning to run thin."
Ankoro flashed her fangs. "Either you say something or I stack hacking and slashing, you tub of tar. Because at this point, it could go either way."
Progenitor snorted at this, likely growing frustrated with…something. It looked off to one of the other abominations, clacking it's jaws and letting a slithering, prehensile tongue roll out.
The subordinate creature repeated the action, before taking off to one of the few remaining trees that stood that held a pair of captured human and dryad. Others joined it, climbing up the tree and chewing through the viscous sludge that encased them.
Greater satisfaction was felt from Progenitor when it saw this, and it then refocused its attention on Blue Planet. It reached for his hand again.
This time around, Blue Planet could sense that there was more purpose than simply trying to take his appendage. With its other limb, the lead abomination tapped the Druid's chest again and then it's own temple.
It lightly raised the seilenoi's hand to where it had touched its head, then reached for the other hand. Catching on far more quickly, he stabbed his staff into the ground and allowed this to transpire if only to see where the situation would lead to.
Once both hands were on either side of its skull, a dull buzzing droned within Blue Planet's ears. They flicked in annoyance, as if a group of houseflies was trying to pick at them.
Neither moved, as one held the head of another. The buzzing increased in noise and pitch, becoming white-noise static and digging into the Druid's eardrums.
He frowned. "What's supposed to happen here? Am I supposed to just hold you? Is this how you greet others?"
The shadow beast gurgled throatily, tilting its head in curiosity. The buzzing increased in intensity.
A pit of irritation welled up from the deepest point of Blue Planet's diaphragm. "Damn it! Would you quit your stalling and do something already?! I didn't come all the way out here just so we could have a staring contest all day! What the hell do you want-"
A neuron seemed to snap in his brain, as his magical reserves activated against his will when the buzzing reached its crescendo. He tried to scream, to warn his friends to stand back and get away, but his jaw went slack as a feeling of peace enveloped him.
Warmth tingled all over as his mana flowed through his body and into his arms. Where Blue Planet's hands rested on Progenitor's temples, sparks flashed as a spell activated.
But…I hadn't even said anything yet…What's going on…? Need…to…get…out…
The shadow beast's eyes flared up with ethereal fire, blazing and whirling in the wind. As the Druid's consciousness slinked away, almost detaching itself from his body, it felt like it was merging with another mass.
It was a shard of malignancy and half-remembered memories, that which melded and sank into his own mind. His vision tapered to a point as lights rushed towards a central dot between the abomination's brow.
Then he fell away all together, along with whatever else he was sharing a headspace with.
He was running through a forest. His colossal feet left three meter deep impressions into the damp earth. His lumbering mass and clumsy movements ensured that just about every tree was hit along the way.
A steady supply of carbon dioxide flowed into him, his stomata working overtime to make sure that he would make it to wherever would be safest.
He hadn't meant to hurt anyone. His head hurt all the time now. His limbs shivered like when he was with fever, and his waking dreams fell into hazy nightmares.
His friends had only wanted to help, to check up on him and see if he was alright. He hadn't recognized any of the men or dryads that entered his home. They frightened him.
So he shoved them away.
Only when they had, they had splattered beneath his force, staining the open book that he had been writing in. His whole body had ached so badly he could hardly hold a pencil. Shame engulfed him, and he fled into the only place he ever felt at peace in those days.
His titanic limbs took him far, deeper and deeper into ancient woodlands. The branches of his body tugged away at everything in sight, and a ravenous hunger dug deep into his soul.
He needed food, and he needed it now. So he called upon his innate power, and drained the life from his own home.
The marching never stopped, never could stop. To do so would be to hurt the few friends he remembered.
Whispers on the wind carried the voices of said friends, desperately calling out to him. They were searching for him, because he had hurt the others, and because he had left without saying goodbye.
Rivers of amber tracked their way down solemn cheeks as he stumbled through the foliage, leaving a warpath of desolation as the other unharmed plants withered and decayed to staunch his hunger.
Please, please go away. I just don't want to hurt anymore, he thought.
Then he came to a portion of the forest that he felt was near the epicenter, where he could hide for days and never be found.
He stopped, and his limbs dug into the earth, growing serpentine roots to coerce the surrounding oaks to protect him, shield him from the others and himself. They slithered to him, forming and melding into one wall even as they shriveled up.
His torso solidified and combined with his legs to create a singular trunk, creaking and groaning all the while. The arms snapped and shattered into many different shards that grew into their own branches. Toes wormed through the dirt to become roots, while fingers shot into the sky and covered his head as a spacious canopy.
The voices drew nearer as the wall completed, sealing him off absolutely from those who would follow. His thoughts began to slip more and more away as raw hunger took over. A rapidly transforming body quivered in rage as those he loved tried to seek him out, to take him away from his would be meal. Even as the Forest died to sate him, it only exacerbated the process.
Deep roars tore themselves from his throat as his mouth widened, his teeth elongated and sharpened into fangs. Spare roots twirled into a tongue that lashed out. The last of his amber dried around his mouth, and shards of bark from his old form flaked off to surround the base of his new trunk.
The last coherent memory he had was of the wall in front of him shaking, and of another bellowing roar to the world beyond.
While he slumbered away, in his toiling dreams, images flitted through his mind's eye. They held no meaning to him, not in any capacity he could recognize at least.
Instead, the desire to feed and consume everything in his path took precedence over greater thought in his waking moments. When he did awaken, he found he could devour at his leisure, and strike at the wayward prey that wandered into his grove.
Sleep was his only respite, from the terrible, burning pain of his bodily needs, as it compelled him to consume all to sustain himself.
The trees of his wall were dead, and he no longer could control them due to their dilapidated state. But his sense of hearing was still functional, as he could hear the dead bark shifting as some outside force pushed it open.
They were little hands, and their little magic, that which could not but even scratch at his great might. Worthless prey to feed on later. Let them come, for they would never leave his grove alive.
He did not wake fully at that thought, idly wondering what exactly had come before him, and why it walked with so many pairs of feet.
Whimpering and pleas for help also reached his senses. Idleness grew to curiosity enough that he extended his awareness to detect what was going on.
The colors of the world had been muted, but from what he could comprehend, seven cloaked individuals surrounded the base of his tree, leading a human and dryad with them.
The human wore ragged sack cloth, and his body was bruised and bloody from whatever exertions had brought him before him. The dryad's wood was cracked and sap dripped from the wounds. Her foliage fell out in disgusting clumps as she sobbed and reached out for the man.
Both were bound together by chaffing chains and iron collars. Anytime they tried to separate, one of the cloaked men snarled and shoved them back together. One even drew a dagger and stabbed the man in the shoulder, which elicited a groan and shower of crimson life fluid.
One of the cloaked men, who wore a black robe with a red face painted upon its front, bid its minions deposit the duo at the front of his teeth. They were forced to kneel, hugging and whispering words he did not catch.
An offering, perhaps, but one that would not spare the cloaked figures.
The other six figures drew in close around the central one, placing their hands on his diminutive and skinny shoulders. The central figure lifted both hands, wreathed in emerald circles of strange shapes.
They began chanting words and phrases which merited no attention, other than to draw out his hunger and make him salivate at the opportunity of the dual sacrifices that knelt at his maw.
A rolling of shoulders commenced as the figures' hands never left their central's body but were now cloaked in their own emerald green strange shape circles.
Chanting deepened as a veil covered the group, a dome of energy that burned his roots. It was sudden but long-lasting, sizzling away at his appendages and tunneling deep into his body.
The unexpected pain fully awakened him, his eyes glowing ethereal fire red as the branches of his canopy drew downwards to slice at the group.
There was no effect there either, as his branches suffered the same intensive burn as his roots. Only now the fire spread faster, and chewed away at his consciousness.
Ear-splitting howls erupted from his throat, his infinite mouth widening and flashing his fangs to bite back at the agony-dealers.
Barrages of needle branches and spear roots jabbed at the dome, continuously burning but getting closer to their marks as the figures chanted more and more.
The man and dryad started screaming, tumultuous yelling that rattled his rings and inner layers. When he looked down with his natural eyes, he could see that their own flesh was burning away from the same emerald fire as he.
Indeed, they seemed to come closer to him, so close that they were practically melting against him. And then he realized that they were, in fact, melting.
Pools of blood and sap mingled together to create a murky substance, which blackened to the consistency of slime. It absorbed into his bark, twisting into his core and slicing at his essence in a way the fire could not.
This excited the figures more, who's chanting increased in fervor and tempo. His branches continued to strike and strike and strike, desperately attempting to hit any one of the ones who dared to touch him.
THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!
Three of the black cloaks fell, his branches boring straight through their heads. They collapsed like rocks falling from a cliff. The dome shrank as it lost power from three of its users.
The remaining four chanted even faster, their movements synchronized and harmonious with the blending of all voices into one. Even the screeching of the damned mixed well to create something new.
THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!
Another three fell, leaving only the central figure to complete the incantation itself. Both arms were raised out to either side, the fingers curled into claws with its magic flowing through. The dome shaped itself to cover his form alone.
The human and dryad's cries reduced to gurgles, and when he glanced downwards, he could see that their bodies had utterly transformed into the dark gunk that seeped into his trunk.
His thoughts grew sluggish, as the sludge traveled upwards and settled upon where his brow would be.
The central figure stopped chanting, slowly bringing its hands together to cup empty space in the shape of a sphere.
From the cloak's hood billowed out black smoke, and the emerald green magic surged from its digits to join with it. The light consolidated into a pair of featureless eyes, like a serpent's.
The black mist hovered for a moment, gazing at eye-level with him. It bobbed, and then streamed directly into the pile of goo that was on him.
Bright-white light obscured his vision as total and absolute suffering swallowed him. His thunderous roars, which had scared away even the other monsters of the Forest, were no more than conduits for his anguish and agony.
Yellow spots danced in his vision as everything dimmed. Then consciousness eluded him all together.
Light. Light. There's too much light. Hurts his eyes. His body is sore, and continues to become more and more sore.
A hand reaches out timidly to cover his eyes, only to brush against something jagged and moist. He pushes against it but it moves his own head the more he does push. The intensity of the light fades as his eyes grow used to it, but they are closed.
They open, streams of brightness pricking his sensitive orbs. Dense canopies cover the sky but allow rays of the sun to filter through. With his vision restored, he finds that he is laying on his back.
How did he get here? He had previously been with his brothers, back home in the Spriggan settlement. A feast was scheduled that day, to celebrate the coming of age of one of their younglings. No, that wasn't right.
She was with her sisters, and preparing for a birthday of one of the elders. She had just turned a hundred and forty-two, and was set to receive a brand-new tunic from one of the human men.
No…neither was right. He had been something more, once, but such a memory escaped his grasp. Both humans and dryads had come to him, loved him, accepted him. Where were they?
He sat up, the previous soreness easing as his body returned to a semi-upright position. When he did, he saw that a single being, garbed in a black robe, knelt before him. He could not see its face, but something within him told him that the figure was not welcome here.
Actually, the feeling stated that the robed underling was no longer useful.
Powerful legs worked to stand him up, towering so vastly that the being was a gnat in his sight. His hands, which had expanded in width and became invincible tools of great destruction, clenched into fists.
He raised one above his head, just in time for the kneeling thing to look up. Part of the cloak fell back, revealing an aged and scarred face with a dull, lifeless eye. The mouth was puckered into a savage grin.
Right before the fist slammed down full force, he swore he could see the newly identified human mouth a single phrase. Thank you.
FHWOOM!
And then he was gone, smashed into the dirt in a single blow. Something wet and sticky clung to his fist. He raised it slowly, watching as flecks of blood, it was called, drizzled onto the eviscerated body.
The only clue that it had once been humanoid in stature was the clothing, which was drenched in the gore but retained some of its dark coloring and the brighter red symbol of a ghoulish face on the front.
The moment he confirmed that it was no longer breathing, he turned away, disinterested. He noted a massive tree, more significant than the others which formed a wall around it and the space it occupied.
It was familiar, but at the same time, not. It hung lifeless, devoid of any signs of health from how grey and ashy it had become. So fragile, so weak.
He looked down at his own limbs, watching as the light reflected around his pitch frame. Oily and slick and encompassing all of him. He knew not what lay beneath the sheen, but from his own judgement, it was dense and tough. Perhaps bark, perhaps thickened skin.
Either way, he was well defended, which meant now he could move forward with little threat. He had to find more, more like him. He was lonely, and the Forest he barely remembered from the fragmented memories told him there were tools to use to make more.
He just had to go and fetch them. Then he could become whole. Then he could have a family again. He knew not which side of his own mind spoke to him like that, but all agreed to the thought.
But in his subconscious, there rose an image of someone he had cared for deeply, long ago. No, short ago?
It mattered not, for the image was of a kind and fatherly face, bearded and with ivory deer's antlers. Bells were tied to each of the points. He wore armor, reddish in hue and made of a wood stronger than any metal.
A lower half, that of a goat, or some other shaggy haired, hooved creature. All he knew was that this figure was his friend, and that he had told others of him. He had to prepare for him, make for him a paradise.
And no paradise would be complete without inhabitants, one of his facets whispered greedily.
He stomped to the wall of dead oaks, waving his hand and finding that they responded to him. The dead bark and crystallized sap bent to his will, falling away to make a gateway for him.
As soon as he passed, the lifeless arboreal corpses flew back into place, guarding his base of operations. The Forest of Tob, his playground and canvas, laid out before him.
For you, Blue Planet, I shall make your arrival here wonderful. I shall welcome you as family, he thought.
But first, he was hungry, and the life forces that flashed out in a rainbow of energy was oh so appetizing.