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 Post subject: Treant Tales
PostPosted: Wed Jul 25, 2012 6:10 am 
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Location: An'thru
Ferngorn and his entling Sprigthorn were tending to the trees in Needlepoint Forest and roaming the lands in the middle of the night. The Treants cherished this time of stillness in the night and Ferngorn would often pass down stories to his son. Ferngorn spoke slowly yet with a great power in his voice “Hhhhroooommm… my son, you do very well in your druidic training. The stars smile upon us this evening… in fact, it said the star that is in the shape of the branch points to the old Gnarlwood Groves. The same Groves where we first met our Sis’Ralar brethren and our Ancestors tended. That was all before the days of the Katarious….”. Sprigthorn would nod and listen intently to his father, as he went on about some of the history of the Treants.

Some moments later, a strange wind blew from the East. The trees whispered of a “survivor tree”. Ferngorn questioned his flock but they did not know more, but it had potential to be of an ancient prophecy – a great tree that sprouted from the seeds of the Mellus Tree and still lives, which is thought to be the Tree that gave birth to the Treant race. It’s knowledge would be limitless and it’s power as well. Treants are not known for their hasty reaction to things, but Ferngorrn stomped across the lands, with continuing prayers to the Spirits of Nature. The very quest to find the tree soon turned into a pilgrimage, as Ferngorn passed through several forests such as the Shield Land Forests, the Valleys of Bloodstone and Tol Arum, pass the Duskenwood Forests. Ferngorn had then travelled all the way back to the first Forest he was sprouted from.

It was a great sight to see that the Forests were healthy, that life and death still balanced each other in the Forest (his recovery of the forest was successful long ago) and having a chance to talk to some of his old tree friends. However, Ferngorn knew his purpose and felt the strange wind that blew once more and heard the trees get riled up again. The wind that tickled his leaves blew from the North and he took a two day journey. His ancient emerald eyes looked up at the sky and he saw that the stars that formed a branch pointed in this direction. Ferngorn at that moment had entered a graveyard. Old and dried stumps were seen for miles. He had stumbled upon one of several old Gnarlwood Groves – the very ones the Katarious had plundered and slaughtered without mercy to create the currency of Gnarl. Both Katarious, Sis’Ralar, Simly, Treant and Elf were slain here.

Ferngorn was overwhelmed with emotions. No Treant should ever have to witness the destruction of an entire grove. He slowly roamed across the graveyard, praying to the Spirits of Nature, but as he went further in, he felt more alone then ever. Shadows danced across the land and he could see only death. As he entered the edge of the destroyed Grove, there was a single tree – a miracle! Only a few leaves remained and it was beginning to decay. Ferngorn could not believe it – the whispers were partially right. There was a surviving tree, but it was not a tree that sprouted from the Mellus Tree, rather one of the last Gnarlwood Trees! Ferngorn tried to call out to the Spirits of Nature, and restore this tree, but there was so little life in the land that they could inhabit to aid the great Treant. He had learned to heal but he was one who favoured the mastering of elements and wielding them for Nature’s wrath. His attempts were in vain – the Tree was slowly dieing, and he could not stop it.

For the first time in his life… he felt useless. Tears streamed down his bark and he roared out to the lands in anger (and it is very hard to truly anger a Treant)! “Spirits of Nature, help me! Ancestors… guide me! I want to make you proud and I have tried for the last century to restore our people back to their glory. But I require aid to save this tree!” He continued to chant for several hours and slowly building up his powers.
Sadly, nothing would work. If anything, all the movement had caused the remaining leaves from the tree to fall and wither. However… because of the movement and the life that was being put into the land, the dying Gnarlwood Tree spoke to Ferngorn. Ferngorn ceased his chanting and tried his best to comfort the tree and speak of the wonders of the Netherworld. The Tree however, was in pain and had suffered for so very long, that it begged Ferngorn to kill it. His woodland heart broke in two – from this day on, there would be a deep scar inside him that no creature could heal.

Ferngorn then planted himself into the land. An hour later, the roots from underneath his feet had finally emerged and wrapped themselves around that of the old Gnarlwood Tree, and he began to crush it completely. On the surface, he then took began to split the tree in half, offering it a quick and merciful death. These words were whispered to him “Thank you, oh great shepherd… let me leave you with this gift, in payment for the services your kind have offered me and mine so many suns ago”.

The nutrients and very life of the dying tree began to soak into Ferngorn’s roots. Ferngorn rested and grieved – slowly shutting his eyes. He would never forget the beauty of the Gnarlwood Tree or it’s endurance to survive for so long. He knew that he did the right thing – but the right decision is never the easiest choice to make. Slowly his eyes closed and everything went pitch black.

Several Months Later.

Ferngorn awoke and could hardly stand after being idle for so long. He was still here – in the Gnarlwood Grove that was destroyed so very long ago and was undisturbed. The deceased tree in front of him was now dried and old… yet Ferngorn felt different. He had dreamed of his Ancestors and in the soil found the connection to the Spirits of Nature. He was not alone.

The last several months were that of meditation and inner restoration. Ferngorn had not only accepted the nutrients of the Gnarlwood Tree, but had slowly changed his leaves and figure to mimic that of a Gnarlwood Tree. Treants always vary in appearance depending on the forest from which they hail, and although Ferngorn was not born of this Grove, the picture of the dying Gnarlwood Tree never left his mind and he had become one of theirs. The Tree lived on through Ferngorn. This Grove was sadly lost, but through Ferngorn, he would continue to look to the stars and follow them in search of finding any more Gnarlwood Groves that could be saved. His powers had weakened from being idle so long, and he would now dedicate his life to a new path. A path of restoration – and yet still brew the storms to protect any Groves he could find. Ferngorn now will walk the righteous path of a Druid – just as his ancestors did before him.

The Treant now stomps slowly towards the Shield Lands, heading towards the Sparrowvale Graveyard to attend to his old mossy tree friends who have long put up with the ravenous undead. The lands of Mellus had changed dramatically though, and this old Treant would try bringing the restoration that the world would need, as well as hoping to find any last Groves. With the endurance of the Gnarlwood Tree, this Treant was now more ferocious then ever and was a symbol to all trees – a survivor and a protector.

Foes of the Forest – be wary, for you never know when a Treant will find you.

// a post of Ferngorn's most recent ascension story. \\

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