Heart of Oak

In one of the booths of the local restaurant, Dwarven Keep was a group of travelers of five strong. They were passing the night away in food and drink. One of the members was an orcish female of yellowish-green skin and two large tusks proudly displayed from her jaw. She spoke with a lisp and a slight slurring in her words as the bourbon whiskey wore down her constitution. “Come now Roderick, surely yer excited for this!” She thrust her mostly full wooden mug in the human’s direction.

“Dmahdi, for Etos’ sake, control yourself.” Roderick snapped back at the drunken orc. “You’re chugging whiskey faster than we can make coin to pay for it.”

The orc bellowed a hearty guttural laugh, “You worry too much Rick. Live a little.”

Beside the orc was a wood elf with dark olive green skin and vibrant yellow eyes. She placed a hand on the orc’s bicep and muttered some words beneath her breath.

The orc’s eyes flickered for a brief moment before the overly built woman went face-first into the table.

”That wasn’t necessary, Sedel.” Roderick passed a less-than-friendly glare at his wood elf companion.

She rolled her eyes, “Would you rather be four gold deep in beer debt, ol’ Ricky?”

Sitting quietly at the table was a Tasaki, a species of humanoid foxes and this one was orange with a white chest. He placed a hand in the raccoon-kin’s hand and leaned against him. “I’m inclined to agree with Sedel on this one, Roderick. The orc would outdrink us all.”

The racoon-kin spoke up too, “She’ll be fine in the morning anyways. Orcs don’t get hangovers.”

Then came the waitress, a dwarf of muscular build and blonde hair. She seemed cheery enough for the night crowd even if it was starting to wear her thin. “Anything else I can get you lot?”

Roderick clasped his hands and smiled, “We’ll take another plate of your dinner rolls and cinnamon butter.”

The dwarf wrote it down on a piece of parchment. “What happened to the orc-friend of yours?”

Sedel spoke up, “drunken stupor. Don’t worry too much about it, Jodi.”

The dwarf tilted her head, questioning the legitimacy of that claim, but she knew both of them. “Just make sure she doesn’t wake up and puke, Sedel, last time was gross enough.”

The wood elf nodded as the dwarf walked back to the kitchen. “So,” She began, “Now that our brute is out cold, what was this plan of yours, Roderick?”

“The mage said that this forest area used to be a worship site a couple of hundred years ago. Chances are, some of that religious magic lingers and that may have caused that disturbance he felt,” Roderick explained. “Either way, we go in, look around, confirm that nothing is there, leave, and get paid.”

The racoon-kin protested the plan’s simplicity saying, “Surely you don’t think it will be that easy. Castias said that the sudden magic surge nearly made him purge his stomach. Anything with that degree of magical presence is not something we want to trifle with.”

Roderick bobbled his head, “That’s why I’m saying we just sneak a peak and leave. Spend the day scouting the area and bail before something does show up.”

“If our battlemage says we should be concerned, I’m going to be concerned,” Sedel added. “We need to be smart about this. This is some old tomb smash-and-grab. Not like in Sunkai.”

”Roshka, stop with the fear-mongering, please,” the human glared at the raccoon-kin. “How about this, let’s place a bet-“

”Oh no, no the fuck you don’t,” Sedel raised a grizzled finger. “We’re not gambling on whether you’re right or wrong.”

”That’s because you know I’m right. When was the last time I was wrong about a job, eh?” Roderick held up his hand, inviting them to challenge him. They were silent for a minute. “My point exactly. Guys, it’s an abnormality and even if some high-level mage is a bit spooked, chances are it’s probably nothing more than a deity farting some excess magic back into the planet.”

Sedel leaned over and began massaging the sleeping orc’s shoulders, trying to subdue the snoring that had started.

The tasaki and raccoon-kin both were not amused by Roderick but he was right, he hadn’t been wrong about a job before. Roshka just hoped Roderick would at least heed a warning every now and then. “Finny, shall we go about a stroll before bed?”

The orange tasaki nodded and sat upright, sliding out of the booth. “Master Roshka and me are going to bed. We’ll be seeing you all at dawn.” He gave a polite bow before turning about and leading his raccoon-kin partner out of the establishment.

Roderick let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose you need help carrying Dmahdi to the inn?”

The elf begrudgingly agreed, “Yeah, I’m not exactly built like she is.”

”I’ve been meaning to ask, are you two a couple?” Roderick raised the question.

There was an unpleasant brow raised from the wood elf but she answered the question, “Honestly, not that interested. We’re good friends, hells, she saved me from a bad circumstance, but I’m not looking for a spouse, definitely not when my livelihood is not guaranteed day-to-day with this adventuring career”

Roderick nodded, “I won’t pry any further then. I only ask because Roshka and Finnegan seem to flaunt their tie regularly.”

She tilted her head and eyed the snoozing orc. “Maybe in another lifetime.”

Dawn came quicker than anyone in the party wanted it to. The group had met up just outside the inn shortly after sunrise and ventured out of the town, northward towards the disturbance they were hired to investigate. The open fields were filled with herds of slumbering bison and strangely enough, a strip of churned soil as if something had plowed into the ground at speed. Finnegan rushed forward to investigate it. His voice squeaked “I don’t know what caused it, but something was definitely dragged through here. I see some indents in the dirt too, large veiny footprints.”

Roderick pulled out his leatherbound journal and jotted down a note. “The Aderon Forest is not too much further. I wonder if a giant set up shop.”

Rashka shook his head, “He said it was veiny. I don’t think any creature’s foot is veiny, surely not the underside of it when standing. The flesh would mold to fit the ground.”

”What do you think it could be then?” Roderick asked.

”I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know of any creature of that variety,” Roshka replied. “I can’t even begin to guess what it would be.”

A mischievous crackle echoed from the trailing rear of the party. “I bet I could chop it in half real easily.” The orcish woman was wielding her halberd and licking her lips in anticipation.

“Heel,” said the wood elf. “Don’t go frantic yet. If it’s magical we don’t want to piss it off.”

The orc lowered the weapon and frowned.

From up ahead, Finnegan dove into a bush, masking his presence. Roderick caught the eye and snapped back at them, “Duck and cover.”

The orc was the only one still standing in the open field, blinking confused. “Wait what?”

At the tree line was a centaur of chestnut coloring, adorned in chainmail. The orc smiled and waved eagerly to the centaur. The chestnut centaur galloped out of the forest and towards the orc, approaching with no weapons drawn. Once in talking range, the centaur slowed down and walked up to the six-foot green skin. “Are you lost?”

The orc tilted her head. “No, the rest of my group’s right here.”

There were several heavy groans.

The centaur looked to her left and her right and sure enough, there were several other people attempting to hide in the tall field grass. “Oh, I see. What brings you all out here?”

“Traveling of course. Looking for some mythical being,” the orc explained. “Say, aren’t centaurs like herd-folk?”

The chestnut centaur nodded. “Usually, yes. I am not, however. I serve a different master. Although you have piqued my curiosity, what creature are you tracking down?”

The orc shrugged her wide shoulders. “Dunno. Our job was to simply-”

The orc was cut short by a swing of a blunt object that swept her off her feet. Stepping up from the grass was a white human male in well-used leather armor. “Name’s Roderick. I’m the party leader. My orcish friend here knows not what she speaks of.” There was a heavy emphasis on the ‘not’ part of the sentence he spoke and a nasty gaze thrown towards his prone orcish companion.

“Kateda Naesolis,” the chestnut centaur responded, holding out her hand.

Roderick took her hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We apologize if we’re trespassing on your clan’s land.”

Kateda shook her head. “This is open land, grazing grounds for those bison. My master makes no claim over this land. That said, the forest in which you are about to enter is my master’s domain and he’s not too eager on guests.”

This master she was referring to was residing in the very area they were supposed to investigate. Roderick asked the risky question, “Is there a chance we may meet your master? I know you said he’s not fond of guests, but where we come from, our leaders are very curious about this area and any information we can pass on to them could stop them from sending more people this way.”

The centaur toyed with the idea for a minute. “Alright, I’ll take you to my master.”

The group was led into the forest which got denser the further in they went. The canopy of the trees blocked out the sun creating a very shady forest that, while still warm from the daylight, was considerably cooler than the field they were previously in. Then the path they tread upon came up to the doorstep of a very large oak tree. The entryway was hollowed out and showed a very open floor with a spiral staircase going up. The group headed inside but was instructed to not go further.

Down the central staircase came a large treant, bulky built and with a long flowing beard of leaves. His wooden skin creaked with each seemingly heavy movement. He was a giant to them, well over double the size of the orc. He stood in front of them, eyeing each one with curiosity. He spoke with a low rumbly voice, “Who are ye to visit my lands?”

Instantly, several members of the group fell to their knees, one of whom clutched her stomach. Sedel doubled over when she activated her “magic sight” ability and was instantly overwhelmed by the mana presence that this treant had. He wasn’t just some powerful creature, he was much stronger. The orc rushed over to soothe the startled wood elf.

”I’m not surprised by the elf’s response, even though I am aware of my own magical presence. I suppose I should not be surprised by your presence either,” the oak treant said. “I am he who is called Oakengrove. I am the Father of the forest.”

Suddenly, the color washed away from the human’s face and he looked to the floor. “Oh shit-”

Rashka and Finnegan both were kneeling and bowing their heads to him and Oakengrove noticed. “The two kin, who be ye?”

Roshka raised his head. “I am Roshka and this is Finnegan. We bow before you in acknowledgment of your divinity.”

Oakengrove raised his hand with an open palm, “Rise, you have honored me as such. I shall remember you two fondly.” The treant then turned to the pale human, “Where are you from?”

Roderick was silent. His mind raced in sheer panic. He knew the name from the stories of old but the creature itself was nothing more than a myth, at least that’s what he always knew it to be. The cult of Florism was no better than any of the others that worshiped the old ways. He slowly raised his gaze towards the giant tree. He tried to speak but only croaked fearful noises.

The treant took a slow and heavy breath. He knew the human was terrified and rightfully so. Okengrove was letting his magical presence ooze all over the place and his physical presence overshadowed the human. Oakengrove squatted down to meet the human eye to eye. “I ask again, where are you from?”

Roderick spoke, “We’re from Gelwood. It’s a town a few hours south of here.”

”And what brings you to my neck of the woods? Are you poachers? Your armor, weaponry, and even team composition suggest more than simple thugs.”

The treant was far more perceptive than Roderick wanted to acknowledge. He just wanted to run, run as far and as fast as his legs could take him. A quick glance over the shoulder behind him revealed another entity blocking their escape. A gelatinous humanoid of blue and yellow swirls. Fear began to overtake him. He remained silent towards the treant.

Oakengrove held out his hand towards the human and began casting a spell in the language of the arcane. Until Roshka interrupted him, “Oakengrove, Roderick means no disrespect. He is simply stunned at your majesty and cannot produce words to explain himself.”

Oakengrove lowered his hand. The spell he was going to cast was a lowly sleep spell to calm the human down, the twitching in his fearstruck eyes made him easy to read. He turned to face the raccoon-kin before him. “Roshka, you speak with a degree of formality that I would not expect from your kind. Why is that?”

Roshka lowered his gaze, “I received formal training, I used to be of nobility.”

Apparently, that was news to everyone in his party, except for Finnegan who quietly reached over to grab Roshka’s hand.

Dmahdi raised a brow, “Bullshit, why would a noble willingly subject themselves to a life of a sellsword?”

Roshka’s eyes looked at the ground sorrowfully. There was no response.

The treant reached out and lightly rested his wooden hand on Roshka’s shoulder. “Worry not your past, little one. Who you were matters not but rather who you are and who you will be matter more. What is done is done and I will hold no grudge against ye. As for the rest of you, what brings you out here?”

Roderick was petrified in fear with no way of escape and couldn’t grasp a single thought.

Sedel finally had the strength to speak and leaned into the orc’s embrace. “We were hired to investigate a magical disturbance.”

”Magical disturbance?” Oakengrove’s gaze shifted to his giant tree home. “I see my magic has attracted unwanted attention. Who hired you and where may I find them?”

The whole party froze and stared at each other. That’s when Roderick finally worked up the courage to croak out a sentence. “The Chieftain of the Vikan Clans.”

The treant’s hand reached up and scratched his leafy beard. “I see. Inform this chieftain that I will not hold this encroachment against him as he knew not of my presence. However, I will not tolerate liars and thieves in my forest. In three weeks’ time, I will pay a visit to your chieftain.” He then redirected his gaze to the raccoon-kin and tasaki. “I will permit you two to come and go as you please, as you’ve shown me the utmost respect. I will request of you lot a map if such a thing is in your possession or available.”

The raccoon-kin and tasaki once again bowed their heads and kept quiet. Roderick whipped out a map of the continent. It was old and battered with a few tears along the edges. The creases from repeated folding had worn through the ink in many areas but overall it was still legible. It was written in a language familiar to Oakengrove; runic.

“The closest town is Gelwood, located at the mouth of this river here. All along the western coast is a collection of cities with numerous mining towns dotting the interior.” Roderick explained the layout of the map, offering it to the treant as per his request. “The capital is down here on the peninsula. Maybe a week’s travel from here if you take it slow and cautious.”

“Mend,” he said with a commanding voice and the damaged map was suddenly back to its pristine condition. A theory he’d been wanting to test worked. Any language could cast a spell.

Roderick slowly turned to look at the giant tree. “How did you manage that?”

”That is for me alone to know. I appreciate the map however, I must redirect my focus elsewhere. I will permit you all to rest tonight in these woods without concern but by sunrise, I want your party on the road.” Oakengrove rolled up the map and handed it off to the snow owl who’d spontaneously appeared beside him.

Out in the forest, the adventuring crew’s camp was established with canvas tents and a campfire large enough to cook a meal. The whole time dinner was cooking, no one spoke a word. They felt the presence that the treant had, the magical aura that overwhelmed Sedel, and the commanding tone he had when addressing Roderick. On top of that, a slime creature was under his command, a species of monster long believed to be mindless magic eaters.

The rabbit stew began to boil over and Sedel pulled it off the cooking rack. “Dinner is ready.” One by one, she ladled out the stew into wooden bowls for the crew but not one for herself.

The orc noticed, “Not gonna eat Sedel?”

The wood elf shook her head. “Not hungry. My mana aura has been all out of whack since we met the Treant.”

The orc turned to Roderick, “So much for an in-and-out job, eh boss?” She let out an uneasy chuckle.

Roderick nodded. “Well, technically it still is an easy in and out. He was more benevolent than I thought he was going to be. As long as we leave by dawn, we should be safe from him.”

From just beyond the light of their campfire, echoed another voice. A low growly voice with a hinted snarl at the end of his speech. “And you’d be wise to heed his words.”

The whole crew leaped to their feet with their weapons drawn. Standing at the edge of their camp was a dark-furred wolf adorned in a gentlemanly suit and shoulder cape. At his sides were a pair of steel rapiers which glistened in the light of the fire. His yellow eyes contrasted brightly against the nighttime background. “Now, now. I’m not here to hunt you, after all,” he pointed towards the Racoon-kin and tasaki. “I’ve been given strict orders to not lay a claw on those two. However,” he let out a loud snarl which revealed pearly white fangs. “I will be watching all of you.”

The wolf took several steps backward into the dark forest, vanishing from their sight. A few minutes later, a howl echoed across the land.

It was some time before the party calmed down. The unexpected visitor and his warning unnerved them. Roderick turned to Roshka and Sedel. “Out of curiosity, were either of you able to figure out what tier of magic that Treant and his crew can cast?”

Roshka shook his head, “No.”

Sedel however nodded. “I can cast fourth-tier magic. That wolf, the fear we felt from him wasn’t natural. That was magical. Psychic-type magic is fifth-tier or higher. The treant himself, I don’t know, his mana aura was large enough to easily cast ninth tier but he may even be stronger than that.”

”We talking worldly or god-tier magics?” Roderick wanted to confirm a suspicion he had.

”Possibly god-tier. That slime too, she was a thunder mage, fourth tier like me at least. However, if it’s under his control, it may be very well imbued with his own magic. Slimes are mindless creatures,” she paused briefly. “At least, they’re supposed to be mindless. Even with all the magic they consume from simply existing, they’ve never been known to think, much less take a humanoid form and maintain it.” Sedel explained.

”And that snow owl?”

”He interestingly enough wasn’t giving off any magical vibes, or if he was, it was drowned out by those around him. He may be more of the martial type than a magical one.”

Roderick crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hands, thinking hard about everything they’d witnessed. “At least three spell casters, one martial, all well beyond the capabilities of Vikans or Uskonites. The elves of Niraldait are too apathetic…”

Dmahdi spoke up, “He seems friendly despite his intimidating size. Perhaps we don’t need to worry about him?”

”Until proven friendly, assume every creature is hostile, that’s how we humans survived,” Roderick countered.

”Spoken like a real emporian,” Sedel snapped. “You’ve got to let go of your homeland Roderick, that mindset isn’t good to keep around.”

Roderick’s head lowered. “A lot harder to do in practice. I’m just trying to be cautious, even if it comes off as excessively cautious.”

”One can never be too cautious, Roderick Franco Helsmouth” echoed a gurgled and sloppy voice from beyond the flickering light of the campfire. The group’s weapons were drawn again and pointed towards the source of the voice. Emerging from the shrubbery was the blue-yellow slime they’d seen earlier that day. It walked as if it had been human for all its life. Its facial features were more refined, looking almost properly human if not for the discoloration.

“You’re the slime that serves him.” Dmahdi lowered her halberd.

The slime gurgled and a few bubbles sizzled throughout her illuminated core. “The wolf spoke to me and while his threat is an empty one, it is wise for you adventurous types to be careful. Recklessness gets you killed.”

Roderick pushed the orc aside and raised his hand to get the slime’s attention. “And how do you know my full name, exactly?”

The slime giggled and its whole body jiggled as if excited by the idea it knew something it shouldn’t. “A true magician reveals no secrets, right, Sedel?”

”I know you’re a thunder mage. How strong are you truly?” Sedel’s grip tightened around her staff.

”You should instead be hoping that you’ll never have to see it. Besides, I’m not here to pick a fight. I bring word from the Father of the Forest. He acknowledges that today’s earlier meeting was rough and loaded with uneasiness. He assumes that mindset persists, even into these hours and to ease your burdens, he offers a gift.” The slime produced a massive brown fur blanket and laid it out on the ground before them. “A hunting trophy from earlier in the day, he wishes that no part of any animal hunted is wasted. This fur blanket should provide warmth to you, even as we approach the month of High Sun.”

Sedel quietly activated her detect magic spell. The blanket showed no sign of magic, but the slime, on the other hand, mana oozed out of her. The slime seemed to notice that Sedel was eyeing her suspiciously.

The slime creature raised her hand, “Trust is earned and we’ve given you no reason to trust us, but let this blanket be the first sign of our willingness to pursue friendship.”

Roderick placed a hand on Sedel’s shoulder. “We accept the gift, please, give our gratitude to Oakengrove.”