By: Crathen Posted on: December 31, 2009
The following is a collection of very short stories about various individuals
who call the tree-village of Eleusis home. Also showcased within is a collection
of prayers to the various Divinities associated with Eleusis, and those who have
been associated with Eleusis in the past.
- "A prayer to Mother Gaia" (an age long past)
Introduction: Taking a previously unnoticed turn in the Eastern Ithmia, a young
Sentinel stumbles on the den of a she-wolf and her half-grown cubs. Nervous at
first, she is stunned as one of the cubs takes a liking to her, and, feeling she
has a companion to life, she whispers a prayer to Mother Gaia.
Crashing gracelessly through the forest (not yet as skilled as her guildmates
in traversing such paths), the young Sentinel trips on a hidden log, falling
through some undergrowth. Landing heavily on her back, she lies for a moment,
breath knocked out. Finally moving to get up, she notices a wary she-wolf
guarding her inquisitive cubs, who, in spite of the mother's attention, are
eager to meet the newcomer. One particularly brave cub approaches, pressing down
on her shoulder with what seems to be sympathy for her fall. Getting up, she
tries to shoo the young cub away, but it does not go. As she walks away from the
cub, it follows her eagerly, if a little unsteadily. Worried, she glances back
at the she-wolf, who seems to nod imperceptibly at the adoption of her progeny.
As the Sentinel leaves at a quick pace (though not too quickly for her new cub
to follow), eager to tell her guildmates, the cub yaps happily, and the young
one utters a prayer to Lady Gaia, begging good fortune for her canine ally.
Lady Gaia, first mother of the forests.
May our growth be as that of the tree;
Let us grow quickly at the first,
grow sturdy before the worst,
grow in wisdom to defend thee.
- "A prayer to Lord Lupus" (the present day)
Introduction: A devotee of Lord Lupus, the Wild God of Beasts, tracks a known
exterminator within the forest, with a prayer to his Lord booming in his mind.
A man descends from above, kept aloft by a glimmering tracery of ghostly wings.
He lands heavily on the ground, an axe gripped in one hand and a trident
spinning rapidly in the other. Moving to engage his enemy, a cruel Infernal
intent on ravaging the forest, the man blinks his eyes briefly and a look of
concentration descends on his features. The spectral wyvern roars defiantly as a
blazing scintilla of light surrounds the Sentinel. As the glow fades, the air
grows cold, the ghostly figure entwined with the man now resemblent of sinuous
wyrm, and he leaps for his adversary, breath turning to ice and spectral claws
poised to strike...
May the strength of Lupus suffuse me...
May I dispatch my unworthy quarry.
Let the Wild my fury incense;
The Beast God taste his essence!
- "A prayer to Lady Demeter" (an age long past)
Introduction: After a protracted battle with invading Mhaldorians, the forest
has been left ravaged and defeated by the raiders. When they have finally moved
on, it is up to the Eleusians, among others, to pick up the pieces, and restore
the glory of that which was destroyed. After one such raid, a Sylvan seeks to
rejuvenate one of the razed forest areas. Making a surprising discovery after
the rejuvenation, she decides to find and honour a shrine to Lady Demeter, and
feels the prayer of the Green Lady echo in her mind, as if the Lady had been
watching all along...
The desolate calm of the blasted forest area is broken by the steady, trudging
step of a Sylvan, vines writhing about her form. She sighs heavily as she
arrives, noting the blackened plants and sickening trees, the destruction. With
a ritual movement of her arm, she dismisses the lethal vines trailing around her
body, revealing her simple cloth shirt and trousers. She murmurs softly to
herself, swearing and shaking her head at the folly of such malice. Reaching
into the rift, she visualises a piece of elemental ice, and draws it forth,
finally clasping the frozen shape in her hand. She seats herself tailor-style on
the ground, melding her awareness with the deadened senses of the forest around
Unconsciously, she drops the ice, but instead of falling to the ground, it
hangs freely in the air. Taking deep, meditative breaths, she forces the
elemental power of the ice to sink into the ground, healing the blasted
greenery. Unseen to her, the ice begins to melt as the power which keeps it
freezing is consumed by the forest. When she opens her eyes, the ice is melted
completely, and to her deeper senses, the surrounding plants blaze once more
with verdant force.
Checking around the area, she uncovers the corpse of one of the exterminators
slain by the Eleusians. Muttering with disgust, she picks the corpse up,
uncovering a thorny vine adorned with tiny pink buds. As she watches, one bud
opens up in response to light caress of the morning sun. Glancing at the corpse
in her hand, she promises to herself to search far and wide for a shrine to the
Green Lady, Demeter, to thank her for imbuing the forest with the power to
create such miracles from disaster. A youthful, vibrant voice echoes in her
mind, forming the words of a rarely-heard prayer, and the old sylvan feels the
touch of the Divine for the briefest moment.
Nature may never be torn down, never defiled permanently.
The very glory of the forests is that of regrowth.
The Green Lady grant us this regrowth,
allow us to become steadfast like the oak,
uncaring of the torment laid down by our enemy.
- "A prayer to Lady Artemis" (the present day)
Introduction: The Ashtani spring a daring raid on the mostly-peaceful village
of Eleusis. Catching the defenders by surprise, they maintain the advantage
until a mighty druidic warrior feels his soul called toward the realm, and joins
in the defence, with a grim, pitiless battle-prayer seething in his mind...
My awakening is swift and easy, as my soul flashes into the recumbent shell of
my body. Stretching creaking joints, I reflexively prepare my defences,
caressing tattoos, sipping vital elixirs and applying salves. As my vision
unclouds with the unearthly power of the mindseye, I hear the mental cries and
reports of my fellow villagers in the city. Assessing the situation, I grip my
quarterstaff tightly in both hands, growling in anger.
To my fellow citizens I broadcast the news of my presence, and focus my
thoughts as I prepare to summon the power of Metamorphosis. The air around me
lights up as I call the alien spirit into my presence, finally surpassing even
the power of the mindseye as my vision is filled with blazing bright light. When
my vision clears I can see - and, gloriously, feel - the incorporeal Hydra
spirit writhing around me, bolstering my strength.
Giving a mental rallying call to my citymates, I caress the multi-coloured
prism tattoo on my forearm, holding the image of one of the raiders in my mind,
a cruel and skilled Apostate. A thin beam of light flashes out across the city,
and within seconds I feel myself inexorably drawn to the location of my foe. He
is one of three, the Apostate, and between them they have just dispatched the
last of the city guards. My allies, spurred by my rallying call, arrive a few
moments later, as I advance on the Apostate. Commanding the writhing Hydra with
which I have bonded to attack, I step close to him, crushing two of his limbs
with the power of the animal spirit, and freezing him solid. While he struggles
to heal himself, I raise my staff, swinging it in a great arc and knocking his
legs from under him with a mighty gust of wind.
As I turn my attention to the other raiders, I hear the cries of pain of the
Apostate as my citymates take advantage of his infirmity, plunging wicked blades
into him and wreaking spells of great destruction. Without looking I feel his
death as I advance on the remaining two raiders. They know that we have the
advantage now... As I move to engage them with my allies, I hear the prayer of
Lady Artemis, the Vengeance, in my mind, and I smile with grim pleasure as I
prepare to enact Her will.
No purer pursuit than vengeance,
the focus of just hatred is my path to transcendence.
I will crush my enemy with the weight of his actions,
the sublime glory of his death will honour Lady Artemis.
- "A prayer to Lady Melantha" (the present day)
Introduction: A villager of Eleusis, treading little-known paths in the deep
chill of winter, pauses at a tall, mighty tree stripped of all foliage,
murmuring a prayer to the Lady of Seasons, Melantha.
The cold of winter has levelled the forest; frosted leaves crunch beneath my
strides. I have searched here for many days on end, for the thing which I
created as a solace for these freezing months. I kneel at the stripped mast of a
tall, ancient tree, carefully pawing through a pile of fallen leaves. I feel the
rose before I see it; the velvet touch of the closed bud is unmistakable. With
simple, easy motions I push aside the leaves, allowing the bud to feel the light
touch of the sun. Running a finger lightly along the stem, I allow my druidic
power to pulse into the plant, and the bud unfurls eagerly, embracing the
winter.
May the seasons ever turn,
death beget life's return.
Such is the way of the Lady.
Let the cold of Winter strip the trees,
Kill the seeds that they grow anew.
Let growth abundant define the Spring,
Revive Your forests that we may revel within.
Let the light of Summer be clarion bold,
Build them up strong to withstand the cold.
Let golden autumn their deep slumber comprise,
The most beautiful of rests before their short-lived demise.
May the seasons ever turn,
death beget life's return.
Such is the way of the Lady.