Echoes of Power, Part II: Awakened Potential

The first landmark fully reawakened in the dying days of Omeian, its power restored in the aftermath of the Eschaton’s portentous conjunction.

Painting the sky above the Western Ithmia with astral brilliance and celestial whorls, the Tree of Renewal began to sway amidst an enchanted breeze, its foliage singing summer songs of arboreal majesty. As adventurers amassed to observe the landmark’s ancient powers return in full, many failed to disguise their shock as the old tree underwent a startling transformation. The tree abruptly froze in time and space as a protective shell of orderly magic manifested around it, its boughs and fruit resisting any attempt to tamper or shift them. Subtle magical runes awakened beneath the tree’s sorcerous patina, removing the natural wonder from the rigours of decay and decomposition and rendering it instead as the Tree of Stasis.

Outraged by this new revelation, gathered Duirani made the first attempts at divining the reason for the landmark’s abrupt transfiguration, with many of Sapience’s ascendants rushing to lay hands upon the tree to follow suit. Adventurers who lacked the critical understanding of magical networks, planar forces, or the supernatural arrangement of energy found themselves pushed back by showers of sparks, and even those who claimed expertise in the aforementioned fields found it challenging to delve into the tree’s secrets. Many who attempted such an investigation reported that the tree’s enchantments rejected their attempts to examine the finer details involved in the spell’s construction, obscuring the method and identity of the one who had managed to influence the Tree’s state. It was Jhura Gallant who first managed to glimpse beyond these obstructions, and she eventually relayed to those gathered that she could sense the Tree of Stasis being accessed via a personal channel beyond her means to track. Edhain de Verdigris and Bhalwyn were both swift to cast doubt upon the missing man, Morvaethe, who they claimed had far too intimate a knowledge of these sites to be anything less than an involved party or co-conspirator.

As Edhain made a fatal attempt at forcing the Tree of Stasis to yield its secrets, Heiress Rashemi of the Guiding Light Council arrived and examined the landmark. Claiming that the magic that had established these sites was of a rougher, more archaic variety comparable to the grand sorcery to rival or even dwarf Mournhold and Rock Bottom’s tragedies, the Heiress admitted that the Tree’s sudden shift to a previously unknown or undocumented form was nothing less than unprecedented. Upon delving into the site’s mana network, the Heiress confirmed Jhura’s claims and began to explain the finer points of what her research had yielded in recent days. She mentioned that the Tree of Stasis was directing its power to someone or something beyond the Ithmia’s borders, filling many gathered with alarm and speculation anew. As the crowds dispersed and most of Sapience occupied itself with endless theorising and schemes to secure these powers for themselves, many were left to wonder who could have managed to subvert the landmark’s power so effortlessly and precisely.

The early days of Celes claimed a sanguine shade hardly seen in recent times as the Blood Falls fully awakened, the second of such storied landmarks to do so. Inthirath, the first to arrive, found a burbling spring of winedark vitae and a Trollish cultist chanting and offering his blood to the veritable font before him, his attention undivided from his mysterious work. Unknowingly setting in motion a battle that evoked memories of decades and ages past, this brutish occultist reached a hand in to sup upon the flowing lifeforce and – for a moment – knew the celestial tinge of power awaiting those daring enough to claim it. As that moment passed, however, so too did his life: where once a Troll stood, chunks of his gory end exploded outward, spelling the end of his life – and the end of cleanliness for those nearby.

Eager adventurers and ascendant mortals stepped forward, and each ran a hand through the flowing Falls one by one to sense any newfound powers or properties. Those brave or desperate enough leaned down to gulp greedy mouthfuls at a time, eliciting immediate disgust and nausea from most that dared drink from the accursed waterfall. As time passed and bloodstains claimed more hands and lips, the gathered group swelled in size like a fattened tick primed to burst. Momentarily breaking the attention spans of those who stood at the red river’s edge, a very confused raccoon attempted to clean its latest meal within to no avail, showcasing the way the Dark Empire’s depravity yet still stained the land in this long forgotten echo of their power. Those who had found their way to the grouping of mingled individuals – each showing signs of suspicion toward the others as they poked and prodded – came up short in their attempts to learn more, until Myrnma Ladoran strode forth to offer that which none other had thus far: blood influenced by the Divine. Its addition to the churning Blood Falls called forth immediate recognition from the magic power within its stones and tumbling liquid, a call of blood for blood and the yearning of Conquest resounding inside mortal and landmark alike.

Before any such ovations could go further, however, the voice of Yesufa Wisteria Button rang out in warning to all blood-drinkers. Attempting to sway them from their gluttonous ways, Durian’s Voice made a plaintive plea in the name of the Dun Valley, urging adventurers to find a way to turn the landmark back to its pristine state. In response, the soulmaster of Sepyhie struck forth to force Duiran’s Voice to partake in the very act she condemned, sparking unrest amongst the crowd. What followed was a back-and-forth of light and dark conjurations, each dispelled by mages as tempers flared and hostility arose. The first attack against another mortal begat another, and another, until temporary – if familiar – alliances formed and the ground nearest the Blood Falls became as sodden with war’s crimson harvest as the landmark itself. All the while, the Blood Falls teetered upon the brink of transformation as they awaited a hand to claim their bounty in full, its state subtly influenced by the violence at hand.

When the smoke finally cleared and Bloodloch and Spinesreach’s united forces beat back the forces of Light and the Wilds, Myrnma strode forward once more to make a final attempt at claiming the Blood Falls underneath the noses of the Sanguine Fist’s temporary allies. As befits a Reaver of the Hegemonist, ’twas their hand that negotiated the pull and peel of each death-defining spray of blood about the area into a neatly-wrapped gift, and they soon thrust it into the depths of the Falls as offering and demand both. A wild surge of sorcery emerged in response, seizing upon the very consciousness of its momentary claimant and leaving an imprint of some dread force lingering at the back of their head – a force in wait, to be called upon in time. Transformed, the Bloodflower Falls sprouted crimson flowers at its edges, only held at bay from further repercussions by the actions and efforts of the Light’s Chosen and the Warders of Dia’ruis.

Elsewhere, gossip carried through the streets as individuals struggled to find the path through the snowy pass to the Aerie, with reports of a strange azure light momentarily seen….

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 6th of Celes, in the year 10 AC.