The seas and skies were calm as the adventurers from the Realm of Orcs sailed, music and laughter carrying on the breeze. The storm came up suddenly, unnaturally, and carried wailing, screaming voices that rattled the adventurers souls, and awoke a long forgotten piece of themselves that had been missing. The ships were swept into a pitch-black tunnel and the voices made themselves heard:
“The world itself is cracking open!”
“What happens when you let nature run wild?”
“The town unchecked will ravage us!”
“The woods untamed will consume us!”
“We used to live in harmony! Where did we go wrong?”
The boats emerged from a cavern and found themselves fast approaching a fork in the path they had been drawn down. Choosing quickly, Tyrcath leaned towards the path that flowed to the woods, while Freeport and Ralkea choose the opposite and swiftly headed towards a city. Tyrcath landed first and discovered a cliff, after some time they managed to climb up and befriend the Ents, the Trees that lived at the top of the cliff. The creatures of the forest were starving, as the town hoarded the food that the forest desperately needed.
On the other side of the island, Ralkea and Freeport similarly climbed a cliff and met with the guards of the city, who held a certain undead vibe that the clerics of the countries noticed. The people within the dilapidated walls needed wood from the forest to fix their crumbling city. Both sides of city and forest had been in a stalemate for centuries, unable to cross into the others domain and unwilling to compromise.
Scholars from Eileana’ Reult had this to say about the island:
“Centuries ago, a wooded kingdom and a city kingdom dwelt in harmony together. Then a catastrophic natural event struck. The ground was torn in two and a great, rocky chasm split the two kingdoms apart. Only one small natural bridge connected their kingdoms. The forest folk blamed the city folk for the catastrophe, and the city folk blamed the forest folk. Enraged, they rose up intending to destroy each other.
A young and powerful sorcerer, born of a city-dwelling father and a forest-dwelling mother, sought to avert the war. He bound his own sword in blood magic and buried the sword in the center of the rocky bridge, to make the bridge and chasm impassable for the enraged forest and city folk.”
After some light negotiating, Tyrcath turned to violence to solve the issues of the forest, stealing the food for them through force. Ralkea tried their best and took serious losses helping the city. Freeport was patient and steadily beat back the forest to take the wood for the city.
The sword remains on the bridge despite efforts to remove it; the island remains divided and while symptoms have been dealt with, the underlying problem remains.
Post written by Marie Lupia
Quotes from Jackie Coleman
Photo and video by Marie Lupia