Downtown Druid

As Dantes walked into the glade, he could feel the attention of the other druids slowly shift to him. The woman in the lake was the first to approach, pulling herself out of the water, with her strange creature in tow. She was nude at first, but then some kind of green plant spread across her flesh until it covered her like a dress, even weaving its way through her hair until it was pulled back from her face. He found himself a bit disappointed by that. She was much nicer to look at than Traizen and Murk. If she’d been the one to retrieve him, he’d’ve been slower to mention her lack of clothes.

She circled him for a few moments, and he could feel the attention from her eyes going up and down him.

“This one reeks of cities and smoke.”

Dantes shrugged. “I haven’t exactly had a chance to bathe since I got here.”

The twins approached next, their birds taking off from the ground and drifting in a lazy circle around the glade.

“I sense that he favors the little ones-”

“-The things that live in the cracks-”

“And slip through the dark places.”

The twins' voices were the same, and as they spoke they continued one another’s sentences seamlessly. It was mildly disconcerting, but he’d seen stranger.

“I think it’s good for someone to be more interested in the little guy for a change,” said the gnome with a smirk. He was standing behind Dantes, though he hadn’t sensed him moving or arriving there. The massive cat that was with him was gone, but now there was a snake twisted around his body, its head peeking out from the gnome’s blue hair.

“Everyone, this is… You know I never did get your name.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said a once again human Murk as he walked toward the lake and dove in head first.”

Dantes ignored him. “I’m Dantes,” he said with a smile and an inclination of the head.

“He smiles without meaning it. A deceiver,” said the dark skinned woman astutely.

“It’s the way of things where I’m from to smile even if you don’t mean it. Helps to put people at ease.” He followed her with his eyes as she continued to circle him. “We also have a habit of exchanging names.”

“Lorna,” she said. “And this is Beast.”

He looked at Beast. Up close he reminded him more of a Kobold, but larger, fatter, flatter, and scarier. “He’s a handsome guy.”

Lorna squinted. “True.”

Dantes turned his attention to the twins.

“She is Fern.”

“She is Ivy.”

“They are Cloud, and Wind,” they spoke the third part in unison, and the falcons gave out cries from above them that made Jacopo flinch slightly.

Dantes looked at the gnome. The snake had transformed again and was now some kind of ferret, rolling around in the grass.

“I’m Fizz, and that’s Thing.”

Dantes watched as Thing changed form again, this time into some kind of amalgamation of a duck, and a beaver. “An apt name.”

“We thought so,” said Fizz.

Dantes turned his attention back to Traizen. “So, you said we’re waiting on two more, but when do we do the initiation? Or decide on it?”

“We will decide once they arrive, and the initiation will occur when the moon is high.”

“And, how is it decided? A majority? A vote.”

He shook his head. “No. You must convince us all.”

Dantes looked at just those who were there so far. Murk hated him on sight, Lorna seemed immediately cautious of him, the twins were inscrutable, and Fizz seemed to be the only one who may be friendly toward him aside from Traizen. He’d either need to convince them that he deserved what was being offered, escape and make his way across the continent, or kill them and then have to do the same thing. Seemed like the first choice was the one he’d have to go with for now.

…

After a bit more conversation, some discussions involving hunting for food, and a couple additional back and forths between himself and Lorna, or himself and Murk, Dantes found himself left to his own devices. The task ahead was clear, and while his own life appeared to be at risk, the rest of the druids seemed unbothered by the fate that awaited him. Fizz went to hunt for everyone, while the rest of them either napped, or swam, or climbed trees.

Dantes approached Traizen who was napping bare chested in the sunlight, his white skin practically glowing under the sun’s rays, forcing Dantes to squint.

“Traizen, you mentioned that there were fewer druids than there used to be, why is that?”

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Traizen kept his eyes closed as Dantes spoke to him, but his gentle expression became harsh. “Many reasons.”

Dantes leaned against a tree. “Listen, I get the feeling you’re on my side, that you’re in favor of my initiation, but there are several that clearly aren’t. Any information you give me could help.”

Traizen stayed silent for a moment, and Dantes thought that maybe he wasn’t as on his side as he’d thought, but then he spoke.

“Serry, Wren, and Drantol were killed when a nearby city moved into their loci and they fought back. Braddock lost too much of his locus while attempting to negotiate keeping his forest under the laws of the land, but they changed their laws and cut down trees until there was nothing left. Serpica left the brotherhood willingly, made many strange claims about carrying her Locus within himself, and has not appeared since. There are many stories like these, for many brothers and sisters.”

Dantes nodded as he listened. It wasn’t difficult to draw the lines between what Traizen was telling him, and the distaste several of the druids had for him. Between the Pit and Rendhold itself, Dantes knew hatred. It wasn’t a complicated thing to determine.

“Those who you say fought back, how did they do it?”

Traizen’s frown deepened, it was clear that recalling was painful for him. “Serry attacked logging camps cloaked in darkness, tearing the throats from the loggers with a pack of wolves until they hunted her down and killed her, though she took many with her. Wren attacked the encroaching city directly with a swarm of ravens. She tore her way through the people at the outer wall, but there were mages there talented in fire magic, and she was burnt down along with the rest of her Unkindness. Drantol dug with his great mole and would pop out of the ground to drag people down, hoping to use fear to keep them away. They collapsed his tunnels and he suffocated in the earth.”

Dantes listened intently. The druids weren’t stupid. Their plans made sense and were well thought out. They didn’t just attack randomly and hope for the best. Still, they were missing an important piece of understanding in how a city worked, and how a society pushed forward. Dantes could use that.

“Has there ever been a druid with a locus in a city before?”

“Not in my last few hundred years. Berkilak may have known one though. He’s lived far longer than I.”

“Berkilak? I have not met him.”

Traizen’s grim expression softened a bit and his lips curled into a wry smile. “Oh, you have. He’s been here the entire time. He just prefers not to speak much.”

Dantes raised an eyebrow and looked across the glade again. He saw the Druids still occupied in their various leisure activities, though Fizz still hadn’t yet returned from his hunt. As he looked around his eyes gradually moved toward the center of the glade, where the tree grew in the center of it. He felt the same kind of handshake acknowledgement that he’d felt when he and Jacopo met within his mind, but in this case it was like he was shaking hands with a giant.

“Hello,” came a voice in his mind, and though it spoke with a kind of gentleness, Dantes nearly collapsed under the weight of it, and felt the connection break.

Dantes took a few deep breaths to steady himself and looked at Traizen again. “He’s a tree?”

Traizen shook his head. “He’s the forest. He became one with his locus, his companion, everything.”

“How does that happen?”

Traizen shrugged. “He’s the only one who's ever managed it, but when I asked him he spoke as if it was a very simple thing. It requires a binding, a vow, and a sacrifice. Nothing more.”

Dantes looked at the tree. He could sense the tremendous power of Berkilak, and of the forest that surrounded, but it didn’t appeal to him in the slightest. Power without the ability to enjoy it physically, to count gold while feeling the weight of it in your hands, see the fear in an enemies eyes up close, to fuck. No, being a tree didn’t appeal to him in the least.

“I’m guessing he gets a vote too?”

“Yes, though he’s going to vote in your favor. His trust in the Mother is absolute. In his eyes, if she chose you, then that’s good enough for him.”

…

Dantes made his way over to Murk, who he identified as his harshest critic. If he could convince him to vote in his favor, then that would be a good step in paving his way. Murk was in human form, laying against his gray wolf companion by the lake. Near him floated Lorna, laying on the back of her creature and sunbathing as it floated lazily in the water.

“Murk.”

He bared his teeth.

“I just want to talk to you.”

“No.”

“Come on, the Mother must’ve made me a druid for a reason, eh?”

Murk ignored him, instead sitting silently.

“Well, I can always give you my theory while you stare angrily at me.”

Murk stared at him angrily.

“I think she wanted me for two reasons. The first is to tell you how to properly fight against a city encroaching on your territory. Traizen told me about your fallen brothers.”

“Weak” grunted Murk.

“It didn’t sound to me like they were. Their approaches made sense. Hit and run attacks, using fear, trying to take hold of the offensive. The only problem is, that they didn’t know what a city craves.” Dantes thought of Rendhold, the largest city on the continent, the only one that was both a country and a city in one. Other countries boasted grander capitals, freer ones, but not matched Rendhold in scale and reach. He’d seen more than his fair share of sailor gawk, or get lost within its massive maze like confines. Its borders were ever expanding, consuming everything inside and outside of it. “Cities don’t care how many are sacrificed. They just want more. The dead druids attacked people, and thought that was the key, but cities can always produce more desperate men and women who’ll take a dangerous job no matter what. The key is to make it costly. Attack the equipment they are using, kill the men that ordered the incursion into your territory to put fear into the city’s leadership. Blood is cheap unless it’s blue, and equipment paid for in gold has more value than labor bought with copper.”

Murk stayed silent, but he could swear that the gray wolf he sat on had her ears perked up. “I could also get you tools that could help. Explosives, acid, magic items, not for free of course, but I’m sure we could find a way to help one another out.”

Murk continued to say nothing, just sat there indifferently with an angry expression on his face.

Dantes shrugged. It looked like he may need to find a way to slit his throat before a decision was made, or simply remove him from the immediate area. He was fairly certain he’d be easy to bait to a different location, but actually beating him would be hard. He wasn’t exactly in his element in the forest, and he didn’t have a lot of resources to work with since he hadn’t exactly been prepared to travel across the continent into unknown territory with a conclave of druids about to decide his fate. There was also the fact that Berkilak could likely sense what was happening everywhere in the Veridian Expanse. That meant there was little chance he’d be able to get away with it.

He clenched his jaw as he moved over to the water to splash some onto his face, Jacopo leaping from his shoulder to drink as he did so. He may wind up benefitting from what was happening, so he’d managed to tamp down his frustration, but it was starting to get to him. He wanted to be in Rendhold. He had plans to initiate. Old friends to kill.

Lorna and her Gator seemed to appear suddenly next to him, nearly making him flinch as they emerged from the water.

“What was the second reason you think the mother chose you?” she asked as she pulled her wet hair away from her face in a practiced motion.

 

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