Snippets and Stories: (BP) The Darkest Night

Nyx's Gate. Lunaris's one cycle of absence, when the doors opened and the Stygian Seas flooded the Heavens as to blot out the celestial bodies themselves.

The Briar Patch: Ch. 16: The City of Kharst

It was in the city of Kharst that they were first marked by the Plague Doctors.

Snippets and Stories: (B) The Star Maker (Pt. 2)

But that too was a lie. He knew why.

And he clutched the mug between his hands, clinging to the sparse warmth and comfort.

Snippets and Stories: (B) The Star Maker (Pt. 1)

"Magic." some people said. And certainly their innate abilities must have seemed that way to the Dredges.

Snippets and Stories: (BP) Beneath the Storm (Pt. 1)

Zeal had at first believed it to provide some modicum of warmth in this harsh climate, but the severed Shol proved to be perfectly adapted to the icy terrain and the cold ineffectual, hindering them little, if at all it did.

Shols did not deem it necessary to garb themselves in cloth, for such modesty was all but absent, and the intricate weaves they did craft formed tapestries and comforts to line the den or carry water. Such things as modesty were were hardly a concern to the floral children, pertaining little to either their lifestyle or culture.

Snippets and Stories: (BP) Furzé

The children of the Verdance were simple creatures.

They relished in the warmth of the Solar Warden, and marveled at the twinkling dust that followed in the wake of Lady Lunaris.

Dancing and frolicking under their light did they flourish, for it was by the light of the Celestial Wardens that they found the nourishment they need partake of.

Jovial in their exuberance yet shy, playful and nippy, and harboring an innocuous penchant for mischief and delight.

By nature did their powers manifest, slowly but surely. Just as a seed no bigger than a river pebble would one day become a towering sentinel of the ravine, watching over all that lay beneath thestarry dwelling of the Celestial Lovers.

They did not seek power, nor did they desire it. With great power came great responsibility. A needless one. And few sought to facilitate such growth.

Besides, what need was there for power? Such things they left to Father Time. A gradual development scripted by Nature.

Which is why it came as a surprise to the Gorse Ring when there arose a Bramblewine Shol of such imposing and unprecedented might.

The Gorse Ring was taken wholely unprepared as the characteristic briar barrier short forth, twisting thorned serpents that pierced the very Heavens.

An impenetrable cocoon of gnarled vines that even the Shols could not breach grew in a tangled mess in the Heart of the Ring, and in its very center, twined so dense as to budge not.

From within emanated aetheric concentrations of unforeseen density, barely contained and shielded by the tendrils.

And slowly, did the vines part to reveal a Bramblewine Shol.

Furzé, they oft referred to them by for the subtle, yet intimidating thorns that adorned them, took to the Arts of Manipulation with frightening ease.

Even for a child of the Verdance, to whom such was as breathing, Furzé was a step above.

So vast were their aetheric stores, and so saturated were they, that to protect the Bramblewine and others of and outside the Ring from being swept away, the current Pillar instructed the Coty in creating a staff borne of their own fibers. Yet even with the Shepherd's Crook granting them greater control, it was barely enough to contain the deluge and sweeping current of their Aether that threatened to drag others into its pull.

Formidable not just in might but in mind.

The Bramblewine would prove to be very much unlike their brethren. Uninterested in their shenanigans, finding little amusement in the participation of such antics, and sharing little in way of merry. Furzé would take to the patches of shade and filtered sunbeams, content to observe the others at a distance.

Sagely and with much foresight, they were soon taken under the wing of the Pillar, who kept them in close confidence. A thoughtful individual, prudent, wise, and cautious. A Shol that was able to make the decisions a leader need must consider. 

Different, aye, but to the floral children, differences were just that--different. And the Shols of the Gorse Ring took it in with nary a blink. Different wasn't bad, different was just different.

Besides, it was a relief for the current Pillar of the Gorse Ring to have a successor, that they may return to their predecessor. Someday Furzé could succeed them, there was none better to take their place.

Would've, had Furzé not left to start their own Ring.

Though disappointed, they were nonetheless cheerful when the Bramblewine left. The Circle bid their dear kin farewell, dressing them with flowers meticulously wrapped packs laden with a generous helping of that season's harvest, that it may expedite the establishment of a new Circle.

And thus did the Bramblewine Shol depart.

Furzé wandered through the valley, their journey taking them all across the world. At Times they ventured close to the settlements of deathly silence and stone, where the Aether flowed thin and sparse.

Within the barrier a high density of creatures lived. The Sanctums, or so the creatures oft called it. They spoke much of it, and other things too, but pragmatic as they were Furzé sought their own answers. For they were creatures that spoke, but whose words meant nothing. Creatures who relished in deceit, much like the Shols, yet there was nothing playful in their banter. Instead there lay something far more sinister and akin to malice. They were greedy, and made little sense in their controversy.

Furzé did not like these strange creatures or their cold fortresses of stone.

They did, however, like the Archives that they kept, oft sneaking through the barriers and pilfering the odd collective. It took much observation before they were able to understand the flowy black script penned into the books.

After partaking of the Archives to their Heart's content, Furzé would once again take to the road.

Time and Time again they would encounter these Sanctums, and sometimes in returning to familiar grounds, find that the stone walls had encroached deeper and deeper into the Verdance. Where they went, so too did the Verdance wither.

At last they came upon a small valley, shrouded by mists and rain. The turbulent weather dissuaded many, and the Bramblewine relented. The Sanctums would not quick infringe upon this land.

They lay down roots, and hollowed out the grotto, to accommodate for the new Ring. From dampened Earth there arose briar strong, that did slowly but surely, take root just the same.

The beginnings of what would one day become the Bræmbel Ring.

Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Worlds Apart (Pt. 1)

"Syras, come back."

He turned to see a familiar face calling to him. Yet try as he might, never before could he recall having met another of such striking likeness.