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False Summer
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written by Lendren Starfall

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Being the true tragedy of Gloriana's brief return and tumultuous desecration,
and the stalwart but sometimes misguided efforts of the Summer Court.

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the first of three parts of the play cycle
-- Gloriana's Second Fall --

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Cast

Brylle Silverleaf: a member of the Moon Coven
Cronnacht Greythane: founder of the Summer Court
Gwynevere Natsurei: a member of the Summer Court
Ibaesha Caelicus: High Priestess of the Moon
Jasper Greythane: a member of the Summer Court
Murphy Carthan: a purveyor of the Taint
Shorlen: a member of the Summer Court
Stangmar i'Colihn: a purveyor of the Taint
Viravain, Lady of the Summer Song: Elder God of the Seventh Circle
Xenthos An'Ryshe: a member of the Summer Court

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Dedication

Thanks are due to Jasper, Brylle, Arel, and many others who helped the
playwright with research and preparation of this play.

Produced in association with the Seeds of Change Repertory Company.

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Act I Scene I - Nearing a stone bridge
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CAST: Cronnacht, Jasper, Murphy, Shorlen, Stangmar, Viravain

SCENE: A1S1a

A passing cloud drifts aside, shining the golden light of Father Sun on a dirt
track lined with diseased, cadaverous trees. Nearby, a stone bridge crosses a
sickly-looking river.

ENTER: Jasper and Cronnacht (silent).

ENTER: Shorlen comes into view backing along the path towards the bridge,
flanked by Jasper and Cronnacht.

Gwynevere has been slain by the might of Murphy Carthan.

Shorlen yells, "Summer returns to Gloriana, and though you strike us down a
hundred times, summer will return just the same!"

Ibaesha has been slain by the might of Stangmar i'Colihn.

ENTER: Murphy strides arrogantly along the path towards the retreating figures,
rotting fur falling around the hammers clenched in his paws.

Murphy: "Stand and fight!"

ENTER: Stangmar trails behind Murphy, bent in a half-crouch, a swirling of
noxious fumes trailing behind him and leaking in his breath as he cackles
insanely.

Stangmar: gestures with his staff, causing an oily film to spread along the
path, advancing like a hundred eager insects made of corrosive liquid.

Cronnacht: "What would it profit us to fight you? We only impede you in
slowing the inevitable and we can do that just as well this way."

ENTER: Viravain steps gingerly along the path, avoiding the others present, as
if afraid to get in their way.

Murphy: "You're the ones avoiding the inevitable. The strong drive the gears,
and the weak are ground up in them. It's your choice which you are."

Stangmar: sniggers with an evil grin, though he warily watches Viravain out of
the corner of his eye.

Jasper: (to Murphy) "Disease is indeed inevitable, but the strong are the ones
who recover from it, and the weak are consumed by it."

Viravain: (paying no attention to the threats and insults) "This isn't right.
There, that tree should stand more straight."

Viravain: raises a hand suffused with a divine aura, lifting Her voice in a
languid song of summer, slowly and patiently reshaping the tree to a healthy,
vibrant growth.

Murphy: "Time to harden up, boys."

Murphy: charges towards Shorlen, hammers flying in a flurry of blows.

Shorlen: meets the onslaught with defensive and healing spells, slowing
Murphy's attack without responding in kind.

Jasper and Cronnacht aid Shorlen with more spells of defense and healing, a
silver light coursing between them along the arc of an invisible circle.

Stangmar: directs the oily fluid to engulf the feet of the elfen men, hissing
and smoking.

Viravain: sings a cheerful song to Herself as she moves from tree to tree,
reshaping each in turn, completely oblivious to the melee around Her.

Murphy: swings a mighty blow, knocking Shorlen to his feet, following with a
splintering crush that shatters the elfen's skull.

Jasper: spreads his arms wide and spins clockwise, and a shimmering white orb
springs up around him.

Stangmar: points his staff at Cronnacht, hurling a stream of boulders which
bloody his chest and arms.

Viravain: reaches into a rotted bole of a tree and pulls out something dark,
cupped in Her hands. When She opens Her hands, a flurry of butterflies swarm
out, spreading to fill the air with colour.

Murphy: brings his weapons to bear against Jasper, stripping away his
protective circle.

Cronnacht: "Look you how you strike at what you cannot understand, and while
you do, the disease is rooted out anyway."

Stangmar: gestures with his staff, causing Cronnacht to be crushed to the
ground.

Viravain: (pausing in Her work with a slight pout) "Yet it goes so slowly. It
is nearly a year already! I want it to be done."

Jasper: (applying salves to mend his shattered limbs) "You have done more in a
half-year than the Summer Court dared dream possible in almost twelve years of
secret struggle, Lady!"

Murphy: sweeps Jasper's legs out from under him.

Viravain: (timidly) "True, but it still seems so impossible, to remake the
whole forest thus. None of the Seventh Circle ever had to undertake such a
task alone."

Viravain: casts back the pool of viscous taint at Stangmar with a negligent
wave of her hand.

Stangmar: snarls unhappily.

Murphy: "Enough of this jabbering!"

Viravain: directs a momentary disapproving look at Murphy before returning to
reshaping the land, now suffused with a verdant glow.

SCENE: A1S1b

Murphy: unleashes another flurry of blows at Jasper, breaking his body into a
crumpled heap.

Stangmar: casts another flurry of boulders at Cronnacht, leaving him barely
more than a bloody pulp.

Viravain: (to Cronnacht) "What was it like, all those years of struggle with so
little hope?"

Cronnacht: tilts his head, ignoring the brutal beating, and gets a faraway look
in his eyes as memories flood over him.

Cronnacht: "There were only a few of us, a dozen years ago, when we began, with
nothing more than dreams..."

As the lambent shine of life suffuses the area, a blood-red haze swims over the
scene, which wavers and dissolves.

EXEUNT (silent)

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Interlude - A Looped Thread
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Blood-hued film of memory
Comes pain-born in life's ending.
Purpose seizing spirit
Crawls back to its beginning.

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Act I Scene II - Blackthorn thicket
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CAST: Cronnacht, Shorlen

SCENE: A1S2

ENTER: Cronnacht steps lightly into a grove of blackthorn trees, looks around,
and nods. He looks younger, his face smooth of wrinkles and lines.

ENTER: Shorlen trails behind, a little uncertainly.

Cronnacht: "This'll do nicely. Have a seat."

Shorlen: (sitting down doubtfully) "What was it you wanted to talk to me about,
and why does it have to be secret?"

Cronnacht: "There are a number of us, not many yet, who are working to
investigate methods of restoring Gloriana to what it was before the Taint."

Shorlen: (quirking an eyebrow) "How?"

Cronnacht: "We have a number of ideas we're pursuing, but so far, it's mostly
just talk, and exploring the tainted forest, not really doing anything yet.
We're looking into the idea of restoring Gib Gladheart, perhaps by feeding him
something that is the essence of Ackleberry. There's also been talk about
the--"

Shorlen: (with increasing uncertainty) "Wait, who is 'we', and why is it
secret? Is this being done against the will of the Moon Coven?"

Cronnacht: (with an uneasy laugh) "High Priest Merloch has given his blessing.
We keep in secret because there are people who want to oppose us, to form a
tainted commune, and we want to avoid having their spies in our midst. I have
my doubts about one of us already."

Shorlen: (nodding slowly) "The Disciples of Crow."

Cronnacht: "Exactly. Maybe others. It's best to keep the circle small for
now. We don't even have a name; harder to pin down something with no name."

Shorlen: (pursing his lips) "Why are you telling me so much already?"

Cronnacht: "I don't know. Maybe I have a feeling about you, maybe I'm just
being a fool. I was never cut out for this kind of thing anyway. But even if
you were a spy, I doubt you'd have anything they don't already know."

Shorlen: "For what it's worth, I'm not. And I'm interested. What else do you
have?"

Cronnacht: "First, swear that you will work towards the restoration of an
untainted Gloriana, and to keep the secret."

Shorlen: starts an easy chuckle, then, seeing the seriousness in Cronnacht's
eyes, becomes serious and solemn.

Shorlen: (quietly) "I swear by Mother Moon to pursue the restoration of
Gloriana at any personal cost, and to keep the confidence."

Cronnacht: (nodding) "All right. Well, we know that the Elder Gods of the
Seventh Circle could remake Gloriana, though it might take all of them.
Trouble is, none of that circle have returned to the First World, and there's
no real hope that any of them will. It's possible this is something beyond the
reach of mortal hands... and I don't expect there will be any Vernal Gods around
either."

Shorlen: "Who else is involved?"

Cronnacht: "Not many. Elryn, Jasper, Lyth, Elessar, a few more. Some of us
have been exploring Glomdoring, learning about the rituals used to raise
Crow--"

Shorlen: gasps audibly.

Cronnacht: "Don't worry, we're not doing the ritual, we're just trying to
understand it. Perhaps some variation on the same ritual could, if not today
then someday, be how to raise Raven. In any case, knowing how it works is
useful for other reasons."

Shorlen: (nodding with dawning understanding) "Preventing the Disciples from
doing it."

Cronnacht: "And thus protecting White Hart."

(pause)

Shorlen: "It seems hard to be hopeful when there are so few paths and the task
is so great. But I am strong in Mother Moon's light, and purpose hones my
senses. We will triumph one day."

Cronnacht: "Many forces will be arrayed against us, and the nearer we are to
success, the more of them there will be, and the more aggressive. We will face
opposition from within and without."

Shorlen: "Then all the more glorious will be our triumph."

Cronnacht: (worriedly) "Perhaps."

Shorlen: "So, you are the leader of this... faction?"

Cronnacht: (frowning) "I prefer to think of it more as a circle of peers united
in a common purpose."

Shorlen: "Even a circle of peers needs leadership sometimes."

Cronnacht: "Leadership can also be a danger. Purpose is forgotten in the habit
of following a leader, or the leader's failings infect the group, or a secret is
lost in the rallying around a single person."

Shorlen: seems non-plussed by this, and falls silent.

(pause)

Cronnacht: "Well, we have a lot of work to do. To start, anything you can
learn about the rituals of Crow, or the activities of the Disciples..."

Shorlen: (rising to his feet) "I'll see what I can find out."

The two men leave the thicket in different directions, without another word.

EXEUNT (silent)

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Interlude - Through Darkness
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Not by mortal hands or hearts
From souls may Taint become unwound.
But secret spies and peeping eyes
Will find what has been shadow-bound.

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Act II Scene I - Lair of the Ebonglom Wyrm
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CAST: Cronnacht, Jasper, Shorlen, Stangmar

SCENE: A2S1

A loud rumble precedes the shambling into view of the Ebonglom Wyrm, its
squamous mass casting shifting shadows on the twisted foliage.

ENTER: Cronnacht follows the Wyrm, stepping gingerly over the corrosive oil
pooled in the swampy, fetid ground.

Cronnacht offers a viscous ooze to the Wrym, who slurps it down greedily.

With a gassy shudder, the Ebonglom Wyrm regurgitates a repulsive agglomeration
of oily slime, hissing rust, and the congealed remnants of the ooze.

Cronnacht retches slightly as he scoops the vomit into a cauldron-like bucket.

ENTER: Jasper hurries in and passes Cronnacht a handful of oozes.

Cronnacht: "We're getting near to enough. How goes gathering the eggs?"

Jasper: "Shorlen has the Vestments of Crow."

Cronnacht: (while feeding the oozes to the Wyrm) "Excellent. The Magnagorans
should be along again soon."

Jasper: "Probably. Stangmar practically lives here these days. What should I
do next?"

Cronnacht: "Kill puppeteers and collect the brains."

The Ebonglom Wyrm releases a cloud of noxious, swirling fumes the color of an
old bruise, purple-red turning sickly yellow.

Jasper: "How many do we need?"

Cronnacht: (while gathering the Wyrm's excreta) "Four. But get extra if you
can, they don't always last long enough."

Jasper: "Do we have an idea this time?"

Cronnacht: (raising an eyebrow) "An idea for what?"

Jasper: (with a hint of frustration in his voice) "Well, we barely know how
this works to raise Crow, and of course we don't want to raise Crow. So what
are we trying to actually do?"

Cronnacht frowns thoughtfully but says nothing.

Jasper: "Time and again we've gone through most of the work of raising Crow and
stopped just short, hoping to raise Raven instead, but when it comes to the end,
what can we even try? I think this is a dead end."

Cronnacht: "Do you have a better approach to try?"

Jasper frowns thoughtfully.

ENTER: Shorlen hurries in, looking over his shoulder, trailed by a contingent
of fae.

Shorlen: "I just saw Veonira. Kaervas can't be far behind."

Jasper groans.

Jasper: "Don't they ever tire of this? I know I'm getting sick of it."

Cronnacht mumbles incoherently.

Shorlen: "Weary of our work already?"

Jasper: "Not of our work, just of... we have been at this so long and really
we're no closer. None of our ideas has gone anywhere. I could toil for years
without progress, or I could stand up to fight off these taint-damned
pretenders, but both?"

Shorlen: "Let them come. I relish the opportunity to engage them, without any
weak-spleened conciliators objecting to the fostering of conflict."

Cronnacht: "What matters is that they don't steal what we've collected and use
it to raise Crow."

ENTER: Stangmar strides in and immediately spews a toxic cloud which soaks into
the ground.

A flurry of boulders flies in, pelting the Moondancers.

Shorlen gestures to his fae, then joins with them in swarming at Stangmar, his
raised arms suffusing Stangmar in a turgid silver glow.

Jasper: "I'll go for Kaervas."

EXIT: Jasper rushes into the storm of boulders, trailed by a scattering of fae.

Cronnacht projects his hands at Stangmar, coruscating his flesh in stark
moonlight.

A withered crone draws an icy finger across Stangmar's cheek, causing him to
shiver and squirm.

The tainted earth buckles and shakes, tossing the Moondancers roughly to the
ground.

Shorlen raises an athame towards Stangmar, covering him with tumescent lesions.

Stangmar breathes out a cloud of buzzing, foul putrescence, causing the others
to choke and gasp.

Jasper has been slain by the might of Kaervas d'Murani.

Shorlen turns counterclockwise as he dances around Stangmar, causing the
geomancer to slow as if moving through lambent syrup.

The fae dart around Stangmar, pelting him with arrows and spells, causing him
to look worn and strained.

A hail of boulders pelts Cronnacht, causing him to stumble slightly.

Cronnacht waves his athame in an intricate dance, causing Stangmar to slump
wearily.

The Ebonglom Wyrm looks on impassively, snuffling with a loud burble.

Stangmar raises his hands, parting the earth beneath Cronnacht, who teeters on
the edge of the chasm.

Shorlen dances around Stangmar, causing swirling silver light to drain from his
eyes, leaving him pale.

The chasm yawns and devours Cronnacht with a sickening crunch as it slams
closed.

EXIT: Cronnacht (silent)

Shorlen raises his hands and draws down a swirl of silver and green which
engulfs Stangmar, leaving behind only a toad in his place.

The pelting of boulders doubles, bloodying Shorlen almost beyond recognition.

Shorlen stomps on the toad, crushing it with an audible pop.

EXIT: Stangmar (silent)

The earth shudders, tossing Shorlen off balance, and then stills somewhat.

Shorlen scoops up the scattered oozes and the Wyrm's excreta.

Shorlen yells, "Come, Raven! Come, Gloriana, against the filth and corruption
of the Taint!"

Another tremendous burst of boulders nearly pulverizes Shorlen, knocking him
back.

EXIT: Shorlen closes his eyes and vanishes in a swirling cyclone of leaves.

A deep silence settles over the dark forest, punctuated only by the lonely
snuffling of the Ebonglom Wyrm.

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Interlude - A Lack Of Progress
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Dispiriting, the turn of time,
When all ideas and efforts fail;
Without a hope, no progress seen,
How can commitment not grow stale?

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Act II Scene II - Night gardens
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CAST: Brylle, Ibaesha, Jasper, Shorlen

SCENE: A2S2

Shadows shift slowly in a serene garden, as timid night flowers reveal their
iridescent beauty with the coming of dusk.

ENTER: Ibaesha steps gracefully into the garden and perches delicately on the
edge of a bench.

ENTER: Jasper follows her in, his expression pained.

Jasper: "Ever since the clan was purchased and named, Cronnacht has been
increasingly wary of opposition from within and without. The support of the
Moon Coven and the Moonhart Circle are greatly appreciated, but he worries far
too much that some who wear the faces of friends are not so friendly."

Ibaesha: "And his growing paranoia seems to be proving a self-fulfilling doom,
since many in the Moon Coven grow more suspicious the more the activities of
this Summer Court seem withdrawn."

ENTER: Brylle enters the garden, trailed by several others of the Moon Coven,
and a small green frog.

Jasper: "We have always been more secret than was perhaps warranted. Now that
Lord Hajamin and Lady Viravain have returned to the First World, and we are now
a clan with a name and a public presence, some of us are having difficulty
adjusting to the changes, especially Cronnacht. It's part of why he is passing
leadership to me... that, and that he's given up trying to convince us we don't
need leadership."

Brylle: listens thoughtfully as she takes a place at the other end of the
bench.

Ibaesha: "I was concerned about the fact that the clan is so heavily made up of
members of the Moon Coven, and so many of our High Wisdoms."

Jasper: "It's not all Moondancers anymore. We even have the Great Chieftain of
the Serenguard now in the clan."

Ibaesha: "But still, you are mostly Moondancers. Gwynevere, Shorlen, Lyth,
Elryn, and of course you and Cronnacht."

Brylle: "That reminds me, why is the clan called the Summer Court? Is it
because Cronnacht has been recently made the Knowledge Secretary of the Summer
Conclave?"

Jasper: "I'm sure that entered into it, but the primary purpose of the
reference is to the Lady of the Summer Song, and to the Summer King, fallen
Brennan Stormcrow. Surely the Fates did not conspire to place Cronnacht in a
position so named just before Her arrival by mere coincidence. Gloriana's long
winter must finally be nearing its end, with a new summer to come soon."

Ibaesha: "Still, I do not like the idea of something of the Moon Coven being
thus taken for use by something outside, even if only a name."

Jasper: (with a frown) "Whether this is something outside or not is precisely
the question before us. The Summer Court has always considered itself to be
simply a group of like-minded peers within the Serenwilde, pursuing one of the
Serenwilde's goals, long before it bore that name, or indeed any name. But now
that it has a name and a clan and even divine patrons, it seems many within the
Serenwilde think of it as its own political entity with its own goals. We need
to disabuse them of this idea. The restoration of Gloriana is at least the
hope, if not the business, of all Serens."

Brylle: "A lot of us in the Moon Coven have been very surprised that this group
even existed in secret amongst us all this time without us knowing about it.
That surely frames people's reactions to the Summer Court now. People worry
that the clan will bring the Serenwilde shame or even harm, and expect the Moon
Coven to prevent that."

Ibaesha: "I do not doubt that Chuchip's words of prophetic warning helped
encourage people to become all the more concerned."

Jasper: "And that's exactly why Cronnacht's wariness increases! 'Poisoned
words on the winds of corruption.' We waited a long time through a lot of
frustration and now to have the first glimmer of hope married to such dire
warnings..."

Jasper trails off, as if the rest need not be said.

(pause)

Ibaesha: "Do not tell Cronnacht, but I joined the clan not only to help
decipher the prophecy, but also to lend the Court a stronger appearance of
being part and parcel of Serenwilde itself, and also to keep an eye on what's
being done in it."

Jasper: (with a wry grin) "Oh, I think he knows that. And he is keeping an eye
out on you keeping an eye out on him."

Ibaesha: "Naturally. And I watch how he watches me watching him, and so on."

Brylle giggles.

Jasper: "At least it has somewhat dulled the suspicion that Xenthos is some
sort of spy for the Moonhart Circle."

Ibaesha: laughs liltingly.

Jasper: (with a knowing nod) "I know, I know, but for some reason most of the
clan thought he was."

Jasper: "And Lord Hajamin watches over Lady Viravain, as He did when He first
found Her in the Void. She may be an Elder Goddess of the Seventh Circle, a
Creator, but She is only a frightened little girl. I have met Her and She is
verily the tiniest of spring's buds promising to bloom."

Ibaesha: "Yes, and Lady Lisaera also keeps an eye out on what goes on in the
clan, but I am the High Priestess and it is my responsibility to do my part
personally. Anyway, the prophecy itself is interesting enough to keep me
involved."

Brylle: "I haven't heard it yet, what is it?"

Jasper: (reciting in a lilting rhythm, from memory) "The strength of the boughs
of Summer is greater than anyone knows,
but fears and timidity weaken the bark's song. If courage can be found, life
shall bloom whole in the despoiled lands, and what was once lost will be found
again, reborn."

Brylle smiles, clapping her hands merrily.

Jasper: (continuing in the same solemn tone) "But if cowardice stifles Summer's
voice and dark words twist the branches of her heart, hope dies in the despoiled
lands as dusk swallows the dawn. To see a new age of nature's glory, let the
rose grow strong and protect her from the poisoned words on the winds of
corruption."

Brylle: (in a more subdued tone) "Oh. I suppose that would make me a little
paranoid too."

Jasper smiles wryly at Brylle.

Ibaesha: "That it refers to Lady Virivain seems clear, but how She could make
life bloom again is unknown. She insists that it would take the whole of the
Seventh Circle to remake Gloriana, if it could be done at all."

Jasper: "We've been pursuing a number of other directions for some time now.
Some of us are investigating whether the water from the Well of Souls could be
employed, since it proved effective in purifying the fae which Magnagora
tainted on Nil. There's been considerable effort to locate the Claw of Shanth,
since it has been known since Lolly Pringle's time to have remarkable power to
drive off the Taint. We've spoken to Lord Hajamin, and also to the centaurs,
seeking some insight into what might purge Taint from the forest. And we've
long sought some sort of essence of Ackleberry in hopes of restoring Gib
Gladheart to his original form."

Ibaesha: "But nothing has really come of any of these inquiries yet?"

Jasper: (with a little more caution in his voice) "Not yet. But perhaps the
key will be to combine one of these ideas with the power of Lady Viravain's
ability to create. Neither alone could succeed but one might multiply the
other."

Brylle: "What about the cowardice and the poisoned words?"

Ibaesha: "It also seems fairly plain that that must refer to the Night Coven,
as they call themselves. Those who remain from the Disciples of Crow, who wish
to see Glomdoring grow into a commune of its own. Many of the tainted of
Magnagora side with them, until one cannot tell which are part of it and which
are merely allies of purpose or of convenience."

Jasper: "We have tried to protect Lady Viravain from their words and I think we
have done well. Bringing Her into the clan was a big step forward. We do not
allow them audience with Her at all as much as we can avoid it, and we
continually monitor what has transpired and seek to protect Her from being
confused by their lies."

Brylle: "That seems well in hand."

ENTER: Shorlen hurries in, breathless and visibly excited.

Shorlen: "Great news! Lady Viravain has spoken with Lady Estarra, and it seems
there is some hope!"

Everyone turns their attention to Shorlen with guarded optimism.

Shorlen: "Lady Viravain has always heretofore spoken of remaking the Gloriana
as a whole, perhaps because that's how it was made originally, as a single
thing in a single act. However, Lady Estarra suggested that Lady Viravain
might be able to remake Gloriana one bit at a time."

Shorlen: "So Lady Viravain went to a corner of the forest, near the southern
hills, and sang the Summer Song, and... and it worked! Though Taint and decay
surround it, the forest is in one place vibrant and alive!"

Jasper gasps in astonishment, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Ibaesha: "Does She now move on to purify the rest of the forest?"

Shorlen: "It seems She needs considerable rest before She can continue on. It
may take years, even decades, but Gloriana's summer comes, and we live to see
this day that will be forever after a part of history! Never before has the
Taint been cleansed from something in which it had taken such firm root."

Brylle: claps her hands together merrily.

Ibaesha: (with some doubt in her voice) "Then let us go see this miracle and
celebrate the coming of a new summer."

As the Moondancers depart the garden, the ghostly white blooms of moonflowers
begin to vanish, retreating into the waning shadows of a new dawn.

EXEUNT (silent)

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Interlude - A Soaking
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Wilted leaves, the grass is sere;
The rivers dry from years of drought.
A crash, a storm of summer rain,
By lightning's glow, the rivers flow,
Washing away the dust of doubt.

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Act III Scene I - Before the Great Ravenwood Tree
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CAST: Gwynevere, Ibaesha, Murphy, Shorlen, Stangmar, Viravain, Xenthos

SCENE: A3S1

A mistral wind suddenly rattles the leaves, freshening the air with a promise
of warmth against the foreboding chill.

ENTER: Viravain walks in, head held high, her natural timidity not gone but
somehow mostly forgotten.

Viravain sings a warm song of hope, each harmony swirling out from Her as a
breeze which suffuses color into the dreary gloom of the trees around.

ENTER: Gwynevere, Ibaesha, Shorlen, and Xenthos (silent)

Four members of the Summer Court follow in behind the young Goddess, their
steps light.

Brennan Stormcrow raises his cadaverous head to examine the new arrivals, his
skeletal court huddling closer around him.

Xenthos takes up a defensive stance, raising his swords.

Brennan Stormcrow opens his mouth and slowly strains to bring forth words, his
voice a raspy whisper devoid of air or intonation.

Gwynevere steps over to Brennan, wrinkling her nose at his court, and tilts her
head curiously.

Brennan Stormcrow says, "You've interfered too far!"

Viravain pauses in her singing to examine Brennan thoughtfully.

Viravain: "I remember you."

Brennan closes his eyes and turns his head as if staring at something far away
through closed lids.

Viravain shrugs and resumes Her song, Her hands patiently reshaping the land
itself.

Shorlen joins Xenthos in his warding, positioning a contingent of fae in
carefully strategized positions.

Brennan Stormcrow suddenly says, "Flying trickster happy maker love laughing
source close return."

Ibaesha turns sharply to Brennan, her brow wrinkling with thought.

Ibaesha: "What did you say? What does that mean?"

ENTER: Stangmar rushes in and immediately belches forth a cloud of buzzing,
oily insects which swarm over the grove.

ENTER: Murphy strides in arrogantly and sweeps Shorlen's feet out from
underneath him.

Ibaesha turns and, lowering her arms, sweeps a circle of light around Stangmar,
slowing him to a crawl.

Xenthos hacks into Murphy with both his swords, one of them stripping away a
faint aura and the other biting deep into a leg.

Gwynevere squeals in fright and moves closer to Viravain.

Stangmar: "The churning of stone on stone will crush you and your pathetic
Court!"

Brennan Stormcrow, still seeming in a trance, continues to strain his withered
body to find a voice.

Murphy turns to face Xenthos and batters the younger man with a flurry of
blows.

Shorlen stands up and, waving his fae into action, begins to dance around
Murphy, his athame darting this way and that.

Viravain ignores the battle and continues Her song, turning Her attention to
the stump of the mighty ravenwood at the center of the clearing.

Stangmar belches out a viscid coating of hissing dross onto the surroundings.

Ibaesha casts a powerful burst of moonlight at Murphy, causing his wrinkled
skin to creak and sizzle.

Xenthos staggers back a moment before plunging a blade through Murphy's foot,
pinning him to the ground.

Murphy immediately begins to writhe free of the impalement, swearing unheard
oaths of an indecorous nature.

Brennan Stormcrow intones, "We yearn and dream and yearn and ancient bonds pull
us yearning yearning the source of us our yearning."

Stangmar raises his staff and lowers it abruptly, tossing many of the Summer
Court heavily to the ground.

Gwynevere feebly raises her athame, drawing a faint burst of light towards
Stangmar.

Xenthos continues to batter at Murphy with the free sword, seeming to have
little or no effect on the larger man.

Murphy wrenches his foot free and immediately brings his hammers down with a
vengeful strike on Xenthos, shattering his head into a bloody pulp.

Brennan Stormcrow opens his eyes again, falling silent, and watches the events
around him with a sense of resignation.

Shorlen dances around Murphy, seeming somehow to wash the colour out of his
features.

Ibaesha matches Shorlen's movements, joining him in a twisting spiral dance.

Murphy scoops up the fallen corpse of Xenthos and quickly devours it, cackling
with malicious glee.

EXIT: Xenthos (silent)

Stangmar casts a flow of boulders from his staff at Gwynevere, bruising her
badly.

Gwynevere ignores the battering and joins in the dance with Shorlen and
Ibaesha, leaving Murphy increasingly pale and feeble.

Viravain raises Her voice, casting Her song at the shattered ravenwood with
increasing intensity, ignoring the interposed presence of Brennan Stormcrow,
who shudders somewhat under the buffeting of the song.

Stangmar releases another burst of boulders at Gwynevere, who shudders and
crumples under the onslaught, twitches once, and moves no more.

EXIT: Gwynevere (silent)

Shorlen raises his hands with a dramatic flourish, surrounding Murphy in a
silver mist. When it clears, only a hairy, warty toad remains.

Ibaesha stomps vigorously on the toad.

Stangmar turns his staff to open a widening chasm beneath Ibaesha's feet, his
voice hoarse with infernal chanting.

Shorlen stomps on the toad with a wet crunching.

The Summer Song swirls around the stump of the ravenwood tree, lending it hints
of vibrancy despite the pulsing of a dark power within it resisting the healing.

Ibaesha steps her foot down a final time upon the ribbiting toad, breaking it
into a wet pulp on the warm ground.

EXIT: Murphy (silent)

The chasm parts beneath Ibaesha, then closes around her as she falls into it
with a soon-muffled scream.

EXIT: Ibaesha (silent)

Brennan Stormcrow suddenly and unceremoniously turns to dust and blows away,
his skeletal council following suit in the next breath.

Stangmar cackles and then, noticing Brennan's disintegration, falls silent,
turning to stare as the swirling dust that was once the Summer King blows away.

Shorlen also gazes raptly as the dust settles, revealing the shattered stump of
the ravenwood, still broken, but no longer oozing the darkness of the Taint.

Rowena Nightshade shouts, "No! The Summer King is fallen!"

Shorlen: "The Master Ravenwood Tree is free of the Taint."

Stangmar: (peering more closely) "No! It is weakened only and still shattered
beyond the promise of life!"

Shorlen: "When it is healed it will again become a nexus, and its influence
will spread over the forest, hastening the return of Summer. Hail Gloriana!"

Viravain: (quietly) "Alas, it will not be that simple. Forming a nexus of
power from this stump may yet be beyond Me, but even if I manage it, the rest
of the forest will still have to be remade, leaf by branch, root by stem. It
will take many years. So slow and so exhausting is this work."

Stangmar: (in an unctuous tone) "You should lay down this burden, Lady. There
are better uses for Your considerable power and talent, places where You might
work on a blank canvas and bring forth more creations in a day than here You
can in a month."

Shorlen: "Do not listen to him, Lady, he is a foul deceiver full of poisoned
words. Gloriana was Your greatest creation and is now Your greatest
responsibility. Soon, its remaking will be Your greatest triumph."

Viravain: (waving a hand) "Away with both of you. I am tired. I go now to
rest."

EXIT: Viravain gestures and, in a swirl of floral fragrance, vanishes.

Stangmar looks around the grove, his eyes sweeping over the carnage amongst the
flourishing grove, and finally settling on Shorlen. He grins a toothy smile.

Shorlen catches Stangmar's gaze and shakes his head as he surrounds himself in
a glowing orb of transparent light.

Shorlen: "You've lost here, taintscum. Do you really want to waste more time
fighting me?"

Stangmar: "I don't have any other pressing business."

Shorlen: laughs heartily.

Shorlen: "Have at you, then."

The two men begin trading blows and spells in a dancing chase which soon takes
them out of the grove.

EXEUNT (silent)

A zephyr pauses near the Master Ravenwood Tree to stir up the dust one last
time, then carries it away, leaving the fertile soil clean of all stains, save
the blood seeping into it from the strewn casualties of battle.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - Yearning
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Greening tumble wind embrace egg hatching
Petals slowly singly colour smiling
River hurry sea-bound yearning waiting
Venom blade-edged gusting muttered lying.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Act III Scene II - Before the Great Ravenwood Tree
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CAST: Gwynevere, Ibaesha, Jasper, Shorlen, Viravain, Xenthos

SCENE: A3S1

Under the sheltering boughs of the Master Ravenwood, Rowena Nightshade casts
her eyes side to side at the healthy grove, uncertain and confused.

ENTER: Xenthos hurries in, looking around expectantly.

ENTER: Jasper comes into the grove from another direction and nods to Xenthos.

ENTER: Gwynevere descends from above, perched on a wiccan broom.

Rowena Nightshade peers suspiciously at the new arrivals.

ENTER: Shorlen hurries in, trailed by a host of eager fae.

Shorlen: "Has it happened yet?"

Gwynevere: "I don't even know what's supposed to happen."

Jasper: "She didn't say, just that we needed to gather quickly."

Xenthos: "Probably She intends to clean another part of the forest."

ENTER: Ibaesha strides in and looks around.

Jasper: "It's a pity Cronnacht isn't here to see it, whatever it is."

Gwynevere: "It's so exciting!"

Shorlen: "I wonder why this purification should be so urgent. She's never made
this much of a fuss."

ENTER: Viravain materializes in a cloud of sweetly-scented oils.

Viravain: "Greetings, Summer Court. I have wonderful news."

Ibaesha furrows her brow in concern.

Gwynevere: "Ooooh, what is it? What's happened?"

Viravain beams broadly.

Viravain: "I've found a way to finish the job now, today. The whole forest,
and remaking the Master Ravenwood Tree. No more of all this exhausting work of
doing one spot at a time."

Gwynevere claps her hands together merrily.

Shorlen frowns thoughtfully.

Jasper: (dubiously) "How might this be achieved, Lady?"

Viravain: "I've been talking to the other Elder Gods about my efforts. Lady
Lisaera has been very encouraging, as you know. Lord Raezon has also taken it
upon Himself to offer some ideas about how things could be achieved more
efficiently."

Varying degrees of alarm cross the faces of the Summer Court.

Viravain: "It turns out that, while I was gone, there was some little incident
involving what you call Vernal Gods, I didn't listen to the whole story, and
there's this thing called the Seal of Nature that contains a tremendous amount
of power with a particular harmony with living things."

Ibaesha: "Lady, I don't think anything that Lord Raezon has to say can be
trusted."

Viravain: (going on as if Ibaesha hadn't spoken) "So by using this Seal, I can
project the Summer Song out farther and faster, and remake the whole forest
nearly at once!"

Shorlen: "The Seal of Nature is part of what holds back Kethuru, a Soulless
One."

Viravain: (still not really listening) "Well, this Seal, it turns out, was
pretty firmly--"

Jasper: (in horror) "Was?"

Viravain: "--embedded into the side of Mount Shallamar. Oh, I think you call
it Avechna's Peak now, right?"

Ibaesha: (stunned) "You didn't remove it, did You?"

Viravain: "I wasn't able to remove it!"

Shorlen lets out an abrupt sigh of relief.

Viravain: "At least not by myself. But Lord Raezon helped Me."

Viravain hefts the Seal of Nature up in one hand.

Jasper gasps in terror.

Ibaesha: (hurriedly) "Lady, quickly, that must be put back. Lord Raezon is
trying to trick you. Poisoned words on the winds of corruption. We never
thought it was an Elder God that referred to!"

Viravain: (waving Her hand dismissively) "Nonsense. All I'm going to do is
weave the same Song of Creation I have been, but amplify its power with this!
What could go wrong?"

Shorlen: (waving his arms animatedly) "No, Lady Viravain, do not do this! No
good can come of it!"

Gwynevere: (chewing her lip) "You know, it might work just fine, you guys are
worrying too much."

Xenthos: shrugs, his expression serene.

Jasper: eyes Gwynevere in astonishment.

Gwynevere: "I don't know, maybe!"

Viravain: "Now be quiet, I need to concentrate."

Viravain holds up the Seal of Nature and begins to sing, Her voice causing the
air itself to ripple around the Seal of Nature, which starts to glow with a
crimson effulgence.

Gossamer winds whip around you suddenly as the voice of Lisaera, the Shining
Mother reverberates, "Viravain! Do not do this!"

Viravain allows the Seal of Nature to float into the air and start spinning in
place, as She places a hand on the bole of the broken Great Ravenwood Tree, Her
song growing in intensity.

The Seal of Nature spins faster, and the ghostly outline of the Great Ravenwood
Tree rises up from its shattered trunk. Glorious leaves unfurl, glistening
feathered fronds of a deep rich green. Violets spring up from its base and
tremble in anticipation.

Bats, wasps, beetles, and spiders begin to swarm the grove, at first one by
one, each one met with a giggle and a wave of Viravain's hand, transforming
them into butterflies, ladybugs, bumblebees, and bluebirds.

Showers of silver light form a vortex of energy around the form of Lisaera, as
She shimmers into existence.

Gossamer winds whip around you suddenly as the voice of Lisaera, the Shining
Mother reverberates, "Estarra! Come to Me!"

More and more creatures of the forest come, in twos and threes, then in larger
groups. Viravain transforms each of them, though Her pleasure at this effort
begins to turn to concern as they come faster and faster.

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "What's going on here."

Dozens of black widow spiders swarm over Viravain's form. Many of them She
transforms into golden gossamer spiders, but the others begin to bite into Her
flesh, and soon are joined by bats and other creatures.

You see Lisaera, the Ethereal Maiden shout, "Come, something is wrong!"

Becoming incandescent, the spinning of the Seal of Nature lights up the sky
with its emerald brilliance.

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "Viravain, stop! STOP!"

A swarm of giant wasps and carrion beetles washes over Viravain, nearly
covering Her head to toe.

Viravain: "My children, slow down!"

The sky darkens with swarms of creatures coming to Viravain's song, as the Seal
of Nature, its glow dimming, spins so fast it becomes but a blur. Beetles,
wasps, bats, and spiders swarm over Viravain, biting Her countless times.

Viravain: screams, "Too fast! Too fast! Too fast!"

The Seal of Nature shatters into fragments and a column of pitch black fire
envelops Viravain, blotting her from sight.

A swirling pool of energy forms in the air, out of which steps Estarra, the
Eternal.

Estarra, the Eternal says, "Bloody shite! Did a Seal just break? Where is
Viravain? What happened?"

Lisaera, the Ethereal Maiden says, "By Yudhe... She broke the Seal of Nature."

The Glomdoring Forest is suddenly consumed in black fires, sending billowing
black clouds up into the sky. The forest itself begins to twist and writhe, as
Viravain appears overhead in a column of black fire, covered head to toe in
spiders. She begins to writhe from side to side, as if her body was being
jerked and manipulated by some cruel master.

A shower of silver light swirls around the form of Lisaera, before She
disappears with a flash.

Estarra floats up into the heavens and begins to circle slowly around Viravain.

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "So, Kethuru, you finally have
found a channel to work through."

Viravain: "Yes, and much better than what I have had to work with before, you
sniveling bitch! Avechna is now crippled and no Seal holds me back, so even
you cannot stop me."

Viravain fills the air with foul waves of cruel laughter.

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "Eight seals are still intact,
Kethuru! Your power is only at a fraction of its strength! And you have never
met me before!"

Estarra casts beams of multicoloured energy at Viravain, who tumbles head over
heels through the sky, as the essence of creation begins to shake and fragment.

Viravain returns the assault with a globe of pitch black, sending power
flashing across the sky, as the proportions of things shift in impossible ways
and the very fabric of the world threatens to unweave.

Estarra and Viravain collide in a flurry of blows and tentacles and tumble to
the ground, until Viravain's form rends into pieces, seemingly taking the weft
of the world with it, but only for a moment before Viravain reforms herself
with renewed power.

Viravain: "Only Avechna can send me back to my prison, and even You do not have
power to destroy me without destroying Creation itself! You foul bitch Goddess!
Destroy Me and all with Me, or leave Me to break the other Seals and destroy
all Myself, either way I win!"

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "Mortals! Find the pieces of
the Seal of Nature! It must be restored!"

Viravain: "Do you mean these?"

Viravain opens Her hands revealing 12 broken pieces of the Seal of Nature, then
opens Her mouth and devours them all.

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "Noooo! We will find a way to
stop you, Kethuru. Elder Gods to me!"

Viravain: "Elder Gods! That reminds Me of My hunger, not slaked in an
eternity. Perhaps these mortals will slake My appetite partially."

A blinding flash of darkness and the sickening sensation of being rended into a
thousand parts consumes you as the world itself dissolves into shredded
fragments, unwoven strands of the tapestry of Fate cast apart in a foul wind.

EXEUNT (silent)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Scenes and Props
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Interlude

The stage is bare and dark, except for the balcony perched in the tree behind
the stage, which is illuminated with a shining silver glow to draw attention to
the musician perched there.

A1S1a: Nearing a stone bridge

The sound of trickling water pervades this dirt track. Bent and twisted ashes
form the border to the path. The trees vary greatly in size and shape; some
thin and cadaverous, others thick and healthy. Whatever their shape, all bear
signs of disease. Here leaves are covered in a white fur; there trunks are
split and broken, the wood inside rotten and soft. To the north, an ancient
stone bridge appears to have been erected, allowing one to cross the stream,
which curves around to border the western edge of the trail as well.

A1S1b: Nearing a stone bridge

The sound of trickling water pervades this dirt track. Lively and cheerful
ashes form the border to the path. The trees vary greatly in size and shape;
some thin and willowy, others thick and sturdy. Whatever their shape, all bear
signs of new growth. Here leaves are peeking out from new buds; there branches
flex and bow under the weight of their own length. To the north, an ancient
stone bridge appears to have been erected, allowing one to cross the stream,
which curves around to border the western edge of the trail as well.

A1S2: Blackthorn thicket

Perhaps a dozen blackthorns have grown closely-knit together in this stand.
They are dwarfed in the shadow of their surrounding cousins, the immense oaks
and sprawling aspens. Their slim, widespread branches begin low on the trunk,
laden with lovely pale white blossoms and sharp, thorny spines. Petals have
piled up in drifts beneath, shaken loose by the wind, and a few more fall with
each shake of the branches.

A2S1: Lair of the Ebonglom Wyrm

The first thing to hit about this area is the heavy stench, a smell of decay
and excrement that overpowers the senses. The end of the path to the east leads
into this abhorrent pit. Thick white slime coats the walls, falling from the
ceiling in bulky globs. The floor itself is thick and slippery, trails of
yellow and brown running through a pool of clear ooze. Whatever rock structure
once existed here is now invisible behind the cumulative excretions.

EbonglomWyrm: The enormous body of the Ebonglom Wyrm is as thick as the trunk
of the largest oak tree. Its length is impossible to determine as it coils over
and over upon itself. The skin is as black as pitch and glistens with oil and
slime, each scale akin to plated armour, but brutally jagged. The body itself
pulsates and twists on the floor, the angular head enormous, with black faceted
eyes aglow with red flame and a gaping maw that reveals dozens of rows of
wickedly curved teeth that are as long as a great sword. The stench of stagnant
waters wafts from the bloated body.

A2S2: Night gardens

Serenely lovely by day, these gardens swell with unearthly beauty by night,
when the many varieties of night-blooming flowers unfurl their day-shy petals.
At dusk, clusters of delicate, maroon-coloured night phlox flowers open to
display their pure white insides, releasing an enchanting fragrance of honey
and vanilla. The heart-shaped, alabaster blossoms of evening primrose follow
soon after, with their mellow, sweet scent of honeysuckle. As full darkness
falls, gorgeous, lush moonflowers, the jasmine-scented mirabilis jalapa,
trumpet-shaped august lilies, and other flowers ranging from the purest snowy
white to the palest violet reveal themselves like maidens in their best gowns
for a ball, only to conceal themselves as dawn approaches. Small paths lined
with flat pebbles meander through the garden, and inviting benches and
fountains are scattered throughout.

Bench: Mottled black onyx striated with jagged lines of grey-white and hints of
yellow has been fused together into a large, bulky bench with a flat surface.
The pillars at either end, which rise slightly higher than the bench's surface,
are curved into semicircles on the outside of the bench.

Cutiepie: This tiny frog is a bright green colour, with bulbous black eyes and
a large mouth. It is barely six inches long, its long webbed limbs only
marginally increasing its size. Occasionally its long pink tongue darts out to
catch a nearby insect. He is called 'Cutiepie.' A small green frog does not
look particularly dangerous.

A3S1: Before the Great Ravenwood Tree

Tall blackened trees surround this clearing, pressing together into an imposing
barrier of rotten vegetation. Moulds and fungi are smeared across the plants,
their pungent stench suffusing the forest. The branches are coated in dark
slime, slick tendrils that hang downwards. Although a variety of trees might
actually grow here, the black tar that coats them renders them
indistinguishable. A thin black mist creeps between the trees, hanging low
across the ground. The floor of the clearing itself is simply bare earth,
cracked and dry. Lurking ominously is the shattered trunk of the Great
Ravenwood Tree, its splintered remains oozing a palpable sense of menace. The
sound of laughing crows echoes down from the treetops, a harsh sound for the
ears below. The atmosphere vibrates with a palpable power. Brennan Stormcrow
paces here, his cadaverous body twitching with sudden jerks. An animated
skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a bat around its skull. An
animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a spider around its
skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a beetle
around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a
wasp around its skull. The Great Ravenwood Tree towers over everything here,
silent yet haunted with the echoes of power.

GreatRavenwood: The shattered trunk of this once-mighty tree swirls with an
oily substance which seems to give off unseen, radiating waves of menace and
darkness. Broken splinters of wood jut at all angles, hinting at the mighty
tree's past glory, suggesting a fist reaching up to grasp the sky in its thorny
crown. Long and grasping roots extend outwards for quite some distance from the
broken stump, clawing into the dark soil.

BrennanStormcrow: Once a handsome elfen male, Brennan Stormcrow is barely
recognizable as a living humanoid. His body is skeletal, patches of skin having
sloughed off, and bits of bone peeking through the torn skin. With eyes as black
as midnight, Brennan constantly jumps and studies any sudden movement, his head
tilting left and right like a bird studying a potential snack. He is dressed in
tattered robes trimmed with crow feathers, and is prone to sudden jerks and
movements. Brennan Stormcrow looks to be crushingly strong.

SkeletonBat: The skeleton is animated with eyes that glow a blood red. The dark
robes that cling to the bones have pictograms of bats embroidered on the
sleeves. The skull of the skeleton has a large hole drilled into it and small
tentacles wiggle from inside the skull.

SkeletonSpider: The skeleton is animated with eyes that glow a blood red. The
dark robes that cling to the bones have pictograms of spiders embroidered on
the sleeves. The skull of the skeleton has a large hole drilled into it and
small tentacles wiggle from inside the skull.

SkeletonBeetle: The skeleton is animated with eyes that glow a blood red. The
dark robes that cling to the bones have pictograms of beetles embroidered on
the sleeves. The skull of the skeleton has a large hole drilled into it and
small tentacles wiggle from inside the skull.

SkeletonWasp: The skeleton is animated with eyes that glow a blood red. The
dark robes that cling to the bones have pictograms of wasps embroidered on the
sleeves. The skull of the skeleton has a large hole drilled into it and small
tentacles wiggle from inside the skull.

A3S2: Before the Master Ravenwood Tree

The dark heart of Glomdoring Forest is almost audibly beating in this, its
shadowy centre. Tall, blackened trees surround this clearing, pressing together
into an imposing barrier of rotten vegetation. Moulds and fungi are smeared
across the plants, their pungent stench suffusing the forest. The branches are
coated in dark slime, slick tendrils that hang downwards. Although a variety of
trees might actually grow here, the black tar that coats them renders them
indistinguishable. A thin black mist creeps between the trees, hanging low
across the ground. The floor of the clearing itself is simply bare earth,
cracked and dry. Overshadowing all is the Master Ravenwood Tree itself, jutting
into the sky like a twisted fist. The sound of laughing crows echoes down from
the treetops, a harsh sound for the ears below. The atmosphere vibrates with a
palpable power. Brennan Stormcrow paces here, his cadaverous body twitching
with sudden jerks. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a
bat around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of
a spider around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly
outline of a beetle around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a
ghostly outline of a wasp around its skull. The Master Ravenwood Tree towers
over everything here, pulsing with an immeasurable yet dark power.

MasterRavenwood: Twisted and veined with entrancing dark swirls and knotted
patterns, this gargantuan tree stands above all else within the forest, its
sharp crown reaching skyward with dark purpose. Feathery fronds hang down from
the dark branches, the shiny black leaves rustling together in the wind and
gleaming with a dark green iridescence. Long and grasping roots extend outwards
for quite some distance from the tree, clinging tightly to the dark soil.

RowenaNightshade: Rowena Nightshade is a stunningly beautiful elfen woman. Her
raven locks are as dark as pitch and her skin is as pale as bone. Her lips are
bright red and glisten, parting to reveal perfect white teeth. Her almond eyes
are dark violet, glittering coldly and cruelly, penetrating into all those
before her. Clinging to her curvaceous form is a dark black dress that moves of
its own accord around her body, made not of cloth but of animated shadows.
Rowena Nightshade looks to be crushingly strong.

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