player plot: thorns of the rose (2)

[fightingale]

WHO: Alistair, Shale, Zevran, Dorian, Bethany, Bruce, Christine, Eirlys, Sina (closed.)
WHAT: Gathering rare herbs, slam poetry night with a tree, and other things.
WHEN: Departing 24th and returning 27th Justinian
WHERE: Brecilian Forest, mostly
NOTES: This is one of the missions for the Thorns of the Rose player plot. Potential themes of death and attempted murder, also an intense forest, violence, other things to be added as necessary. If something heavy comes up in a thread that isn't mentioned here, please add relevant warnings to the subject line.

Comments

[byblow]

"I suppose sense is one word for it," Alistair says, arms crossed, disgruntled by any number of things: Christine's apparent offense, the prospect of the werewolf den, the fact that the tree seems to be in love with Dorian and not him, Leliana's impending doom. He adds, "Sina." That's it, just her name, but he means maybe you shouldn't ride on the demon tree's shoulders.

Not that she'll listen.

[sunshinethroughgrey]

Bethany bowed again to the Tree, the Singing Tree, and tossed a dimpled grin over at Dorian. She had seen Christine leave ... but right now they needed to focus. Bruce was with her, and they should be able to call for help if anything happened.

"We would be most grateful for all your help, Elder Tree. And whatever favor we can do in turn, please, let us know." Yes she'd even go find that acorn again for him, that's how grateful she was.

[ombranera]

"Grazie." To Dorian, taking a moment to take a deep swig of some remarkably flavorful wine. It makes the realization that they will have to travel with this being for a little while longer a bit easier to swallow.

Not much, mind, but. A bit.

"Now that-" He points with the hand still holding the skin. "Is a marvelous idea. I think she should. We do not wish to upset our guide and aide, do we?"

No they don't. They really, really don't. Sina, by all means, ride the tree.

[eolasemah]

Sina catches the significant look from Zevran, and is halfway through and excited breath to respond to the tree when she hears her name. Turning her head to look at Alistair, she smiles helplessly, her gaze darting between the two of them as she also tries not to ignore the tree.
"I'd... hate to slow everyone down," she points out, and winces apologetically at Alistair before approaching the tree with her hand outstretched as though to take its... whatever passes for a hand.
"You are kind," she says quietly, trying not to look too relieved, "what can I offer in exchange?" That's right everyone! We're all going to owe the tree a favor now. Aren't you excited?

[liberalum]

The look on Dorian's face when his beautiful moustache is called foliage should not be quickly forgotten. It is a peculiar mix of both horror and flattery, and has him reaching his hand out to hover expectantly for his wine back.

It's this icon. This is the face.

[fightingale]

The Elder Tree crouches, moving low
Branched hands open wide to show
That it comes with peace, no motion
Which might prompt these delicate souls to some commotion.

"If thou should wish to bring a gift to me...
Hmm, what would do? Let us see..."

As it thinks it stoops to the forest floor,
So that it cannot lower any more
And accepts the small elf maiden's hand,
Leading her so that she might stand
Closer to the branches that fold about it so,
And climb up the twisted limbs that grow.

It does not move, it does not lurch,
Until the maiden might find a perch.
And when she is settled, when all is well,
An idea to the others it must sell;

"Better we do move hence
And this journey we might commence.
However, it would be most wise
To keep well open your mortal eyes
The ground is dangerous and
Littered in places with sucking sand."

The Tree speaks brightly, with a smile
It has every faith in their wiles.

"Come then mortal friends,
let us ensure your quest meets its end
And that we bring your victory,
Lest you lament the Elder Tree."

It leads the way and starts to move,
With little mind that they might disapprove.

[dwarfing]

Shale really wants to punch the tree. Really, really wants to. However, Leliana was far more important than making woodchips right now, so they simply glare and start moving.

There were herbs to get, and the rhyming was already wasting enough time.

[eolasemah]

Don't punch the tree!
Sina steps onto its branchy hand with stars in her eyes, accepting its assistance and perching where it places her. "Serannas," she says, breathless with excitement, looking down at the others with glee mixed with trepidation. She gives a squeak when the tree lurches forward, and has to take several moments to catch her bearings before she attempts conversation once again.

"When you say the only source of the Minstrel Leaf is you," she says pleasantly, "does this mean only you know where it is, or that it's a part of you?" There's a tinge of worry in the second option-- to damage something so sacred, even with its permission, is unthinkable to her.