By the Light of The Emerald Moon

[Wildfire]

Maccabeus and Wolf spend the afternoon picking about through the forest and hunting for food. wandering throught the forest you see that Sythus is fast taking hold as is evident from the trees and bushes in their bloom.

along the small brooks that feed the Fogveil you see that there are many wildflowers flaunting their brilliant colors. They're familiar to you as these flowers are also native to The Dale of Wolves. Their subtle scent lightly dances in the air lending a sort of peace that allows you to hear Mahiya's symphony.

Kossuth has nearly sunk away and the sky is splashed with a myriad of colors. The moons are rising to shine and are located at different points in the sky. Grumbar is in it's waning gibbous phase, Akadi is nearly at half and is also waning, and Istisha the emerald moon of water is mysteriously full when it should be near new.

[Johan]

Maccabeus's child-like glee fully abated, replaced by a more mature gladdening. He had studied long years to become the man who he was.

Last fall he had seen the alteration of Istisha's path, and somewhere in the depths of his mind he had heard the ageless goddess speak to him. She moved him to travel through a particularly onerous Venric, and now he knew why: she had chosen him to be her child.

He trod the bramble paths more at ease with himself; confident that he had found a new home. In a detatched manner he surveyed the last two shrines of the Ring.

The water in the shrine to Kossuth was not water at all, but appeared to be that of a liquid fire. Maccabeus held his palm out to the firey fount, but felt no heat; the liquid was actually quite cool to the touch. In the shrine to Grumbar the fount flowed a clear tan-like color.

This, then, was his new home.

He set out from the bramble toward the road. Wolf would be back with food, Maccabeus knew, but his furry friend was clever enough to follow the little gnome into Threshold - or to not follow him. It just might be that Maccabeus would return before wolf anyway. He did have a way with wandering at times. Maccabeus smiled widely and trod south along Threshold road.

Read on Maccabeus's adventrues in "The Ring within the Brambles", where he speaks with Dale and Ashe on the nature of the Ring of Mists

[Wildfire]

Back tracking and heading north, Maccabeus passes the the trail to the water shrine of Istisha and the Ring. The trail winds around to the east into the widened expane of the grassy walk. Here the vines had once come alive in an attempt to drag the party in to their thicket. Maccabeus could see that here now flowers bloomed and birds sang.

While passing through the widened corridor the vines started to snake and rustle. Flower petals rained down all about Maccabeus. He hesitated and looked all around. Above he could see the vines met creating a flowery tunnel. The slithering became louder and curiously Maccabeus could understand their manner of speech. "Do not be afraid." they said. "You have saved us from our plight and for that we honor you and your friends. Here you will find safety for as long as we can give it. We are stong now...and with that strengh will we defend and keep you and yours in solace." The rustling and slithering stopped. The felled petals covered the ground ahead and above the brambles remained entwined creating partially lit tunnel of thorns and flowers.

OOC: Johan, if there is anything Maccabeus wants to do I'll leave the next reply to you. If there isn't then I will carry on. Let me know either way.

[Johan]

The elation that had welled up inside the little gnome was crushed upon seeing the metallic steer-like medallion of the agents of Zyxu. He carefully covered the medallion with his blanket and wrapped it tightly, promising himself that as soon as he saw to the shrines to Grumbar and Kossuth he would take the foul thing into Threshold and give it to that counsellor fellow for...whatever.

Having wrapped the medallion tightly within his blanket and secured the blanket to his back, he surveyed the shrine to Akida. Hummingbirds flitted happily among the bramble flowers along with butterflies and bees.

Still happy, but sobered by the presence of the foul medallion, Maccabeus moved on towards the next shrine, guessing that it would be Kossuth's. Fifty-fifty chance. He thought, trying to keep his humor.

[Wildfire]

In Kossuth's light the flowers were saluting their birth by displaying their crimson and purple hues. Ahead, Maccabeus could here the pleasant songs of more birds that had come to this sanctuary. Passing the entrance to the stone circle on his left Maccabeus kept going forward. Quickly he came upon the choir of birds in their melodious chatter. Dozens of them were bustling about and chirping as if in a long time reunion. In their flitting amidst the thorns and flowers, four of them landed on Maccabeus! There was one on each shoulder and two on his head. The path ahead begged him to continue and so he did.

Coming to a a fork in the path Maccabeus could take the bend to the left or the one to the right. To the left was again the sound of water and that was the way he went. The water here was as Maccabeus had predicted; a sapphire blue such as the sky at edge of night. The air in this chamber was particularly crisp. As Maccabeus breathed in he felt a renewed vigor. The purity of the air nearly made him dizzy!

The thin wall of brambles that was on the left side of this chamber had grown in full and thick. Upon closer speculation of the area Maccabeus could see a metal object on the edge of the pool. As he drew closer to investigate, Maccabeus could see that it was one of the pointy medallions that the "bandits" had around their necks. With so much life around him this was an unpleasant reminder of what had been.

[Johan]

Maccabeus's agile mind happily and quickly wrapped a theory around this spot: this was obviously a fount consecrated and sacred to Istisha. He supposed that this complex - four such founts in all with the Ring to the south - must bear a similar spot to Akida, Grumbar, and Kossuth.

He imagined that one of the other three must then, as this one bubbled in spectral emerald, flow in Akida's sapphire blue, a third would surge Kossuth's fiery reddish, and the last - a tribute to Grumbar - must actually look a bit dirty he thought, though that water would cretainly be as viable as any.

This would be one of those places where celebrants (such as he) would pilgrim to in order that they may learn and be closer to Mahiya. He marvelled at his luck and bounced laughing from this shrine to investigate the next, wondering to whom that might be dedicated. Akida, he thought, picturing in his mind's eye the merry blue water surging from its source below the ground.

[Wildfire]

Following the sound of bubbling water north through the entrance to this great, thorny hall, Maccabeus turned with the brambles to the right. Even in this narrow canal the thorns were in full bloom. The grass underfoot was green and deep and the petals of the flowers seemed to reach and brush Maccabeus's cheeks in soft thanks.

Upon entering into the pool chamber Maccabeus could see that the water was not clear but it was rich emerald color. The small geyser feeding this pool was modest in it's height being four times Maccabeus's own. A fine mist kissed the flowers and Maccabeus's face in a dewey welcome. The symphony of the water spout was soothing and liquid.

Kossuth was lighting the mist and created a myriad of green shades with the sparkling verdant water. It seemed as if Kossuth and and Istisha were dancing together to make this fantastic spectrum.

The air was robust and fresh. It was just the opposite of its' way this time yesterday when the group first entered, as was everything. Yesterday the air was stale and choked with dust. The water was black and thick. The grass was complete ash. The thorns were grey and almost dead. This was now a place of life.

The pool that harbored the geyser was odd in that water kept spraying up but the pool did not overflow. It remained true and even.

[Johan]

For the first time since Maccabeus and wolf had arrived at the Ring, a sparrow peeped in the bramble. To the casual listener it would be ought but a peep, but to Maccabeus it was tantamount to a thunderous roar of victory.

His eyes had beheld, he was sure, the visages of Grumbar, Akida, Istisha, and Kossuth, and he was awed, to be certain. But that sparrow's voice seemed a greater reward, somehow. He smirked at himself and at the irony that he recognized in that thought.

The Ring had suddenly become a very peaceful place. He thought it might be nice to stay there and relax, but his stomach grumbled noisily; he would have to eat, and wolf would too. Wolf whined as if in answer to Maccabeus's unspoken thought. Maccabeus laughed at his stalwart friend.

"Go ahead." He said, adopting wolf's tongue. "Go find food, but not in the fields where the two-leggeds are. I'm going to inspect the other chambers in this complex and see to the waters there. Feed yourself, and if you can bring me a rabbit (or whatever you might have left), please, I'll have a fire waiting. This seems as good a place as any to stay a while."

"So shall it be." Wolf answered formally, as was his wont at times. The big gray wolf bounded off through the tunnel to go hunting.

Maccabeus, meanwhile, set about inspecting the bredth of the grove and its connecting labyrinth.

[Wildfire]

After the four crescents took their place in the center stone of the Ring each glowed with a bright flare. Sinews of energy snaked out and reached for the outer stones. Upon reaching them, the slow lightning arms engulfed the ancient obelisks.

Looking at each one in turn Maccabeus could swear he saw the stones transform into an image. The images were enigmatic but had a divine quality that was all consuming. Quickly the images disappeared as did the energy. At last the Ring of Mists was once again whole and strong...like the sacred life around it.

[Johan]

The deep voice of the stag echoed in his mind for a long while, causing him to wonder if he was indeed yet awake. He felt lethargically energized; content and comfortable. The bubbling water filled his ears, blooming Sythus filled his nose, and Istisha?s presence filled his soul.
 
He rolled over languidly, breathed deep of the morning, and sat up, rubbing his slightly itchy eyes. The sacred grove was beautiful and serene. He crawled the few feet to where the water bubbled up from below and dunked his head full under the chill waters, rubbing his face vigorously with his calloused hands. Surfacing, he shook his head briskly, dislodging the cobwebs that yet filled his mind, then he flattened his hair unceremoniously.
 
Maccabeus looked about the reborn grove; Istisha had replenished the Ring of Mists as only she could.
 
A cool Sythus morning breeze caressed the now-thick carpet of grass. The bramble that had been so utterly violated was lush and vibrant. Its long sinuous tendrils bore softly colored flowers that began red and faded to deep violet at the petal tips. Maccabeus was heartened to see that the floor of thick ash that had befouled the pathway through the bramble had been re-created into a thick, lush layer of healthy grass.

His large brown eyes alit upon the little turbulent pool of bluish water. Maccabeus smiled at himself as he only had just come to realize that the small pool of water was something of an oddity among this grove of oddities. It bubbled merrily, rising from some unseen and unknowable subterranean source and returning there. Very likely as merrily as it came forth. Maccabeus thought wryly. The gurgling pool filled the crisp morning air with a light, ubiquitous, refreshing mist.
 
Something nagged at the back of his mind; something that he had still to do. ?I don?t know, friend.? He said to wolf. ?I think that giant stag told me to do something, but I?ll be darned if I can recall it.? As if in answer to the little gnome?s wonder, wolf plodded over to Maccabeus and poked him in the chest with his broad nose. Maccabeus was startled to find that wolf?s nose seemed made of sharp metal. Then, he recalled: he was to place the medallion on the center stone here in the Ring. He looked down into his shirt at the medallion, yet depending about his neck, and saw that it had indeed broken into four separate pendants, all hung from the same golden chain.
 
But there was more: the medallion, it seemed, had left some mark upon his chest hair. He removed his sturdy shirt and turned himself toward the rising sun. Indeed the medallion had left a mark upon his chest. There, echoed in hairless relief like a tattoo upon his skin was the shape of the original medallion - four crescents in a circle all pointing out from the center. More incredulous, those crescents were colored. Maccabeus?s eyes popped as he surveyed the four crescents a yellowish-red one whose horns pointed towards his left, an emerald green one pointed downwards, a sapphire blue one pointed towards his right, and pointed towards his head the last one whose gray color shone light against Maccabeus?s ruddy skin.
 
Maccabeus?s mind stopped just then. He was no longer aware of the passage of time. Kossuth had breached the eastwall by the time wolf poked Maccabeus in the chest again and brought his little friend back to conscious thought. ?Do you see this?? Maccabeus asked his friend. Wolf barked lightly at Maccabeus and pushed him towards the center stone of the Ring. The golden stag?s words returned to him then: ??the medallions will be placed by you upon the center stone of the circle in their honored positions.?
 
It all seemed pretty clear now. He slowly approached the tall stone that dominated the center of the Ring of Mists, removing, as he went, the four pendants from the golden chain that the mystic stag had given him. As he neared the huge obelisk, he noted as if for the first time the engraved recesses ? one on each side ? that were each the same shape and size of the crescents from the necklace. It was rather obvious to him what must be done. Thankfully, he thought, those recesses are a mere cubit above my head. It was indeed as though he were intended to do this job, as the stag had alluded last night.

Taking up the mercurial stoney crescent, which represented Grumbar, and standing as tall as he could, he placed the crescent on the appropriate carved crescent. His hand was still a moment away from the pendant's eventual resting spot when some invisible force reached out and gently but firmly wrested the crescent from his grasp and it snapped into its cradle.

The other three crescents behaved similarly, each snapping into position like a homesick pup yearning for the comfort of the den.

[Wildfire]

While in his meditation dance Maccabeus felt more alive than ever. He could see a brilliant green light eveloping him, Wolf, and the entire Ring of Mists.

Without pause Maccabeus kept up his motions doing as he had always done in the past...only moreso. A fine, wispy mist began to snake up from the ground and still he danced. A wind over the trees began to scream and still he danced. A jet of fire burst from the outward stone of Kossuth and still he danced. The ash that had once covered the ground sank into the earth and the grass came alive and still he danced.

Maccabeus could sense the energy of life around him and within him. The mist grew thick, the fire bright, the wind strong, and the grass rich.

Wolf began to howl the song of the wild. Maccabeus felt to be part of Mahiya in a way few would ever know.

The medallion split into four single crescents and a flash of light burst forth.

Maccabeus woke up as Kossuth was glowing on the horizon. He looked about to see that the grass was a dark healthy green and the thorn brambles were were lush and in full bloom. Wolf was sleeping by his side and there was the sound of bubbling water nearby. Around his neck were the four medallions each acting in their own enigmatic way. A thick fog hung overhead and the Ring of Mist was in complete harmony. In his head he heard the deep voice of the stag trail away saying, "This is only the beginning, my brother."

[Johan]

"I understand." Maccabeus said. He looked into the stag's large, sapphire eyes. "Thank you, brother." He said, borrowing the mystic animal's familiar.

The little gnome placed the medallion upon his own neck, the crescent hanging low upon his stomach, and bowed deeply to the stag.

He then haphazardly rolled his heavy wool blanket, gathered his sling and stout spear, and, placing a hand upon wolf's thick shoulder, walked toward and into the bramble maze.

Fear and excitement warred within his being. He was confident that the mysterious beings that had been therein earlier that day were gone. Istisha would not send him there were they yet present. Still, he gripped his spear tightly, his senses keen, wary for any slight whisper that might bespeak an attack. Wolf seemed to be hoping for something into which he might tear.

Into the hole. Left. Arc around to the right. He followed the ashen tunnel unto the Ring of Mist. No one impeded him. Istisha's green light illumed the Ring. The fallen agents of Zxyu were nowhere to be seen. The Ring was preternaturally peaceful.

Maccabeus and wolf approached the center stone, as instructed. Wolf assumed a guarding pose. Maccabeus began his sibilant chant, his shuffling dance, honoring Mahiya as best he could, awaiting further inspiration.

[Wildfire]

The stag chuckeld just a bit and said in his thunderous telepathy, "You ask much and that is good, brother. The medallion will indeed separate and upon the center stone will they take their place to honor those from whom they are. You must have faith in your belief to do what needs to be done for this good land. Go to the center of the stone circle...the Ring of Mist. Answers will reveal themselves in time. Go now to the Ring, wear the Medallion, and call upon your love for Mahiya."

Holding the medallion you see that one crescent is fire that is cool to the touch and solid as stone. The licks of flame are ever waving and the fire holds the crescent shape. The green cescent is water but solid as the fire cescent is. It's not frozen it's just hard liquid water. The stone crescent is ever changing it's stoney flesh. It changes from granite to diamond to copper and every mineral of the ground. The blue crescent is a concentration of air. It seems rather impossible to think that air couls seem solid but it is. Handling the crescents carefully you see that touching them softly your fingers pass through the fire, water, and air.

After holding the medallion you feel calm and quiet. The charm of a nite time fire, the cooling sound of a water fall, the security of stone steps, and the first waking breath of a day in mid-Rynnyx.

Then upon thinking of the destruction to the thorns and the Ring you draw a sharp breath and an eternal rage hotter and brighter than any fire floods your soul filling you with an unshakable desire to save that which you hold so dear: the land and all that comes with it.

Wolf also seems to be in a fit of rage and howls his anger into the night!

[Johan]

As the rich, melodious voice reverberated in Maccabeus's mind, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and lowered his face reverently. Zebulon, Mahiya's very own champion had taken note of such an insignificant gnome!

But who was Zxyu, he wondered? Obviously, were this violation of Mahiya of Zxyu's doing, then he was not a friend of the land, nor of Maccabeus.

Maccabeus was honored to be the implement of Istisha, and one should never keep such beings waiting. Placing one hand on wolf's neck, he intoned a quick prayer to Mahiya and Istisha, thanking them for this honor, and stood to receive the medallion from the golden stag.

As he rode up onto his toes, it was clear that his diminutive stature prevented him from simply removing the beautiful medallion from his visitor's neck. Wolf, sensing Maccabeus's failing, moved forward, nearly bowling the little man over and lifted Maccabeus from the ground, giving him the height necessary.

Maccabeus took gentle hold of he medallion, undid the clasp and slipped it from around the stag's broad, strong neck. It was cool and weighty in his small hands.

"I do not properly understand, revered brother." He said tentatively. "The circle of stones: is this what you refer to as the Ring of Mists? Is it unto that center stone that I am to be Istisha's instrument? Or unto the bramble ring? Does Istisha bid me enter unto the ring of stones even now, when I have yet to refresh my pool of energy? This Medallion, upon the healing of the land, will separate into four? and they will cover the engravings that stand upon the center stone, or upon the four out-ranged stones? What is the purpose of the Ring of Mists? Am I to be its guardian hence-forth?"

He realized, scattered though he was, that he was being obtuse, but in his fear of being inadequate, confusion had befuddled his mind. He yearned for an image, or for a well-known, oft-trod ceremony.

[Wildfire]

A voice in Maccabeus?s (and Wolf?s) head gently says, ?Hello brothers. I am a servant of Zebulon. He honors the courage that was taken in facing the minions of Zyxu. He bids that this medallion be worn by you so that Istisha can channel it?s healing power through you. After such time the medallions will be placed by you upon the center stone of the circle in their honored positions. You have found in it?s defilement the Ring of Mists. When Istisha calls, cast your healing power unto the circle and the land will heal. You will be called upon again by your brothers and sisters.?

The stag marches to right in front of Maccabeus and Wolf towering over them and looks down. Again in your head you hear ?Take the Medallion and do what it is you were meant to do. When Istisha calls cast your healing power unto the circle and the land will heal. You will be called upon again by your brothers and sisters. Go now?Istisha waits.?