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Lumiel

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This is the world of Gazak. spanning four continents and vast oceans. Empires have been born, and they have fallen. Civilizations crumbled, and despots have been deposed. Time has ebbed and flowed, there have been no great eras of peace, no cataclysmic wars for the fate of the world. The modern era is what you would expect, nations rule over territory, and wars come and go. Caravans crisscross the world, and kings vie for power.

One such king, The ruler of Carica, has decided that he will be the king to re-create the glory days of the Carican Empire.

In the north, civil war rages as the three princes of Urre try to decide the next Vicar.

Deep in the south, a man desperately tries to rally his barbarian peoples and form a new nation.

And in the center of the largest continent, a Queen takes her throne, poised to make sure her name goes down in history.

This is where the world begins. It shall be a grand adventure of our own design, starting in one place and going wherever our writings decide. The only constant in this world and role play is this: Adventure.

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The knife flew true and hit its mark, and at first it seemed that it had ended the conflict. Then the creature stood back straight, and looked right at him, knife still in its head and empty looking eyes, and as it spoke Tane could hear the words clear as day, "That was not polite, young master." As the creature raised its hand, Tane knew that he had to move, and fast. The roots had already cut off the path of branches he'd planned to use as escape, so he dove to a lower, thicker branch. As he was flying through the air, he heard something fly through the air right past him, and felt that something rip through his cloak. The pull from whatever had ripped through his cloak was enough to make him miss the clean landing, but he caught himself on the branch and managed to scramble to relative safety.

Obviously, the knife had served no purpose except to make the creature mad. Tane had to think of something that would kill it and preferably keep the body intact. Fire was out of the question as it would destroy the body, blades were ineffective, he doubted the poisoned blade in his belt would do anything, and time was running out. He realized that his life was worth much more than a piece of gold, so he started preparing himself to blast the creature with a stream of flame.
 
Damn, guess they weren't going to get off that easy. The knife was a nice distraction to see if he could punch their way out but to no avail. Each time he made even the slightest of openings it was covered up even quicker. Crion and the newcomer were in danger, along with himself. When Crion called out about fire, it put the situation in an even more difficulty predicament.

Fire..where am I going to make fire?..

What if?...It could work maybe..

He removed his backpack and held the straps in his right hand tightly. Taking a deep breath, he began to swing the pack around. He continued to do so until he picked enough speed that he was spinning almost like a top. Moving himself closer to the roots as he hoped it would catch a spark and cause the vine vall to ignite.

Of course, he couldn't see exactly where he was spinning, but it was contained so whatever was in the wall had a chance to be hit.
 
The Dryad made a rattling sound, and the vines snapped off at the end of its fingers. The vines then burst from the beginning to the end, sending splinters of wood flying into the air like a volley of arrows. "Be a good fleshling and come out of my domain." The air thickened, and a violet powder sparkled and drifted through the air, stinging the flesh in fell upon. The air was quickly filling with it, and soon it would enter every breath.

The wall stood firm, mostly, but a few of the roots seemed to be ripped out with Darion's frantic attack. The wall was weakening as the Dryad began to focus less on the two within it and more or the nameless figure within the canopy. "Weak men with weak flesh, thinking they claim the forest and its citizens. Feel our vengeance you arrogant mortals!"

Crion finally gave up and poured out the entire bag. There were no Alchemical trinkets that would burst into flames, and the only thing he had to work with was a flint and steel. Crion took out the baton that connected him to Gammon, and lifted it above his head, as it attempted to heat the air for those who were deemed a threat; but it would remain to be seen how useful it would be with the Dryad still blocking magical energy...
 
There seemed to be no energy to call on, even his own energy seemed dim. The priest below was frantically searching for something, and the other man was punching and... Tane didn't know what he was doing really. Then a powder started to appear in the air. Wherever it touched his skin, it burned. Tane quickly pulled his cloak over himself, pulled out his wineskin and rinsed his hands and face, then the same with his waterskin, then pulled on gloves from a pouch on his belt and wrapped his face the best he could with some rags, and checked the situation again. The priest had dumped his bag out and was holding a rod of some sort. There seemed to be little chance of him solving this on his own, so Tane decided to give the priest some time to do whatever he was doing, and went on the offensive again. After a quick glance over the side of the branch he was on, he pulled two more throwing knives from his arms and dove off the other side to the lowest available branch, throwing them at the creature as he fell.
 
Surely he looked moronic trying to spin around and catch himself on fire. But maybe one of Crion's items can help spark it, or the stranger with the knives. Luckily, Darion had little to no magical energy so he wouldn't grow tired as easily. Maybe if he focused the Dryad's force on him instead of his comrades they could find someway to break free of the endless root wall. It was a long shot but seemed like it would bide some time.

Darion tried to turn himself as best he could towards the dryad and fairy line to keep them occupied. Left and right the little fairies went flying against the wall and maybe he was able to hit the dryad itself with continuous whacks of the leather sack.
 
The staff began to heat the air, around the temperature of boiling water, but that was far from hot enough to set wood alight. The dryad noticed it, though. Crion cursed, and wished the damned creature was a demon so the very presence of the rod would send it reeling, but no such luck. The air thickened, the acidic powder drifting through the air was beginning to sear Crion's lungs, and he was quickly running out of options. The splinters from the Dryads attack burst around and left a few scratches on him, but more importantly, gave him an idea. He tossed the rod aside, and began to gather wood, heaping it into a small pile next to the tree from where the Dryad gain his power, and began frantically striking the flint, sending sparks dancing across the dried wood and grasses. Gradually, they caught light and fire bloomed, and Darion, though not the stranger in the tree, would be able to feel the energy now coming from within the circle rather than being blocked from the outside. It would not take light on a living tree of this size, but the Dryad didn't know that. Probably.

The being did not ever attempt to block the knives. Instead, it took them fully, one striking the shoulder and the other where the heart would be. "Petty mortals, thinking iron solves all. The ancient oak is stronger than your blades!" It cried, and whirled the powder into a dust-devil, flying directly at the man atop the trees. "After you, the priest and fighter will feed my children!"

The fairies noticed Darion as he decided to take action. They could smell their brethren's death on him, and rage changed their normal lime green glow to a crimson red. They swarmed, darting around Darion. They shot tiny arrows from tiny bows, essentially bee strings to someone his size, but too much venom and they would knock him out. But, he did manage to send one flying against the root wall as he swung the sack, so he certainly had some hope.
 
No more knives, no more branches to jump to, and options were running just as thin. Tane knew that something had to be done, and fast, or the creature would kill them all. The creature seemed to be made of wood, and the knives just stuck in it with no effect. A memory of something that had happened while he was young and on his parents farm came rushing back to him. His father had been putting some rather strong poison out for rats and other pests that would eat the crops, and some spilled on a patch of grass, and the grass was dead in days. Maybe the poisoned dagger, with a poison strong enough to kill a grown man, would help after all, it may not kill the creature, but it might weaken it. This was the last opportunity to dive from a branch, and he would have to roll behind a trunk after he hit the ground, so he decided to get behind the same tree the priest was near.

Tane heard something flying towards him, so he drew the dagger from his belt and dove off the other side of the branch it was coming from. As he fell, he threw the dagger at the dryad, twisted, and hit the ground with his shoulder, rolling towards the tree he had seen the priest at. He heard the thunk of the weighted dagger hit. He heard and saw dozens of splinters hit the tree and ground. where he had just landed. Tane also saw that the priest did not have the kind face he usually saw on a priest.

"Quite the situation, eh, friend?" He said to the priest.
 
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