A blade against blight (closed)

The groves of The Enclave were vast and verdant.  Thick trees laying over the grass like a canopy, with a selection of fruits and other things that would make survival easy for anyone who knew what they were looking for. Jewel of the Seelie court and all of those that served them and the place that Rowan ran to when his work in the human world was too much. One of the few places where the stink of blight was minimal and outbreaks had been limited. Animals from various planes touched by this one thrived here, though they were all touched by the wild mana reverberating through the air. Luminescent deer, squirrels capable of true flight and even  frogs with melodic keening songs that turned the night air into a chorus of beauty.

All of it was perfection to him but that was until The Blight began infecting even this world.

Hidden within the thick branches of an ancient tree Rowan caught sight of it first. Black, burnt charring marks along the bark of a tree. Superficial, easily carved away without damaging the core but proof enough something had managed to become infected even within this world. There were few ways The Blight could break into this world, and all of them were because of a creature from the outside world. Coming upon one of the few branches within it’s home, wracked with pain and craving the soothing mana of this world. Sadly all it would find is an environment that would rapidly mutate and spread the affliction.

With a skillful maneuver he was out of the tree and landing on the ground, scenting the air for anything that could lead to his quarry. Scent of burnt rubber, rotted flesh or even gasoline. Of the human world those were one of the few smells he knew of it, and none of them were positive ones. If all humans could produce were such ugly things, then perhaps they reached beyond their own means. It made his stomach turn just thinking about it. After removing the small amount of blight from the tree he began scanning through the area around him. Ignoring the squirrels that squeaked their greetings and even the noble antlered deer that considered him cautiously.

Soon he found the first clue. Grass withered and black in footstep patterns, shaped and clawed like that of a wolf. Wolves did travel through this world in packs, larger than human wolves though much more intelligent. They still lacked the ability to speak with humans but with that came a certain cunning. Also a respect among the fair folk that mostly lived within this world, knowing not to target the rangers of this world. The summer pack as they had come to know them as. Once The Blight touched them, it was a different story, one he didn’t even like thinking about.

Muttered under his breath he cast a spell, the small sounds his footsteps making cutting down to nearly nothing and thus he began to follow those blackened pawprints. Drawing the bow from his back and an obsidian tipped arrow from his quiver. Eyes narrowed and mind filled with new purpose,

This trailing lasted for what felt like an hour, until he eventually came upon his quarry leaning against a thick looking redwood. Eyes, ears and even what looked to be injuries leaking a thick black fluid from them. Already he could hear the voice of its soul, a pained sound which grated against him like a knife. It had no pack, nothing beyond the pain that now dominated its existence. Underneath that was a voice he couldn’t understand but galled him even more. The voice of The Blight and his enemy.  

Rowan stepped around the large tree covering his presence and let loose the arrow he had been holding. Whistling through the air, meant for its throat but the beast had heard the sound. Turning in the last moment and was caught in the side instead. That pained, keening sound of its soul rising in pitch to him and bringing his teeth together in grinding pain. Even now there was not much he could do, as the creature seemed barely bothered by the normally grievous injury and seemed to dart off through adjacent brush of the tree. Leaving a trail of blighted blood in its wake.

His eyes widened and he shot forward as quick as his legs could carry him. Faster than anyone would have expected as he quickly followed. Dreamy sunlight turned to moonlight as he slipped through the veil of brush. The air smelled different, purity lost to something earthier and even dirtier. As quick as he could, Rowan adjusted to the situation around him and the bloodied footprints he had been following. They were set into the damper earth, and were heading what he assumed was north.

Was this the world of man? If that were so he would have to avoid one thing in particular happening and that was The Blighting of a human. He knew not what would happen, but he knew that if it did, there would be grave consequences. The Elders said so and that was  all he needed to know.

This day seemed to be no different than any other. The sun had shown it’s lovely warmth to the world all day, the clouds floated above and the animals seemed to traverse the first unimpeded. A cloaked figure also waltzed these woods himself, disrupting nothing as he all but silently wandered the wilderness. Long billowing cloth with a strange black sheen as the creature seemed to fix the clasps on it’s one shoulder, with an old heavy bag in hand. A white mask with an elongated beak appeared to be a natural thing to the being at this point. The creatures of this world did not question his existence. They did not run from him, nor turn from him in a state of panic. All things seemed to treat the mysterious cloaked figure as if he had always been there, part of them. But there was a reason he was here, and that was all but conventional.

This was unusual for one reason. The being could feel the weakening of the boundaries between worlds.There had been a rather strange energy that sifted through the area, a destabilizing force that seemed to rip and tear at the very boundaries and borders that protected us all. The cloaked being could feel this, and ultimately it had decided to bunker down within the vicinity. It could feel that something would eventually breach. It’d not be anything large or out of place, but it was still a sign of something else being weakened and ultimately it threatened the balance of nature. Being what he was, the strange plague associated being sad by a tree and leaned against it, closing its eyes for a moment as it’s consciousness seemed to enter a dream-like state, despite the horrific leather clad being remaining entirely awake.

The next time this being would open its eyes, the sun had set and there was the sound of a howl. Pain, agony and all the things that this being knew all too well. It was the sound of suffering made manifest. It was a horrifying feeling. With a sudden shift, the creature’s eyes opened and a bright verdant green light emitted from them. The being stood up just in time to see a rather large creature seem to appear from nowhere, just out of the periphery. The large creature appeared to be canine in nature, though much larger and feral. It’s features wore grotesque alterations, the fur was matted with a type of staining black color, the blood that began to seep from its body was like that of a sludge and where normal hair and fur should protrude, sometimes sinew and bone fragments seemed to puncture through, seeming to shine akin to metal while it’s heavy breath was visible despite it being a perfectly warm day.

As it’s blood dropped to the earth, the black inky substance seemed to glow amber and then red at the edges as the grass within a centimeter of the fallen blood began to wilt, as the substance seemed to soak into the earth with an unnatural haste. The black cloaked figure clutched to the small physician’s bag, eyes transfixed upon the creature that seemed to whimper. The noise of its helplessness was coupled with a reverberation, one that sounded like metal grating against metal, a pained groan and grinding cacophony that caused an unnerving sense of dread in the creatures around.

Most of the creatures were still from the moment this creature had arrived, fearing immediate and sudden movements, though a few moments passing caused everything all at once to evacuate the area, leaving the black cloaked figure with the wounded beast as it snarled, looking around and sniffing at the air. The masked figure seemed to clear it’s throat as a new ripple was caused, a new breach within the world but a few hundred feet away. With the enhanced speed of a fey creature, catching up would be no issue.

Do not be afraid. I have come to give my aid. The words were unspoken, but the beast would know them. The creature was twisted and corrupted, it’s entire body aching and writhing in pain. The wounds from it’s hunter were part of that issue, however the true pain came from something beyond the physical. It was a horrifying feeling, a pestilence that screamed for a cure. The large corrupted animal could see the masked man approaching with deliberate steps. Slowly he approached, his spare arm reaching out, as it were en route to reaching out for the horrifically mangled beast.

If the beast would allow itself to be touched was beyond the being’s control, and even beyond the being’s ability to predict. Some of these things were quick to identify the essence of the masked man, and all he represented, realizing that this masked creature was a possible means of help, a natural beacon of sorts. Though other creatures, when they were so far corrupt they knew that the pain of sympathy and approach was at times worse than the pain they endured with their twisted existences now. By the time the man reached the beast, the Fey pursuer would have undoubtedly arrived to witness what the beast would do next. Would it remain with this cloaked figure, would it lash out at it or would it flee? Only time would tell...