[Syliras Quest] It is time... (Weyliss)

[Gossamer]

Timestamp: TBD by Weyliss Time of Day: Midnight Location: Weyliss' Quarters in Syliras & The Wind Oak Plot Notes: * There comes a time in all men's lives that duty catches up to them. It seems unavoidable at times, especially when a sacred son flees from home only to return years later. Death and come and gone for the old oak. But time rarely touched it now. It had transformed through sacrifice from a living breathing thing of power to something more - something deeper rooted - and wholly precious. It knew the blood that flowed around it. It had manipulated it time and time again to strengthen it. The being knew, deep down to its core, that it was possible to build the perfect warrior without breeding aggression into them. In the early days it was far easier, for their hearts were weak and their minds nimble. But in these times the Syliran Knights were made of stronger stuff. Careful cultivation of both those who dwelled in Syliras and those that came later seeking shelter had resulted in stronger men. The Windoak didn't care about physical strength. Anyone could be strong who trained and worked at it. But what the fragment of the dead god of peace cared about was something far more. He wanted strength of character and an iron will that had painstakingly been bred into the knighthood. What good, after all, was a creature of power if it did nothing whatsoever with its power? The Windoak did a great deal, in fact, other than just grow in a courtyard hidden away from the rest of the world and guarded by one of the most formidable armies in the current world. It planned and plotted. It wasn't a thinking creature, not exactly like it had been. It was more like a growing concept that molded the world around it into what its former ideals had been. To achieve peace, one must achieve strength and respect. It lived by that rule. Respect was earned, not stolen. And through earning respect, strength of character and the force of personality it demanded came far easier. Other gods helped. And the city was also guarded by one who was almost as strong as the Wind Oak had once been. If that one single priest of peace could make his move at the right time, the Wind Oak would give him what power it had left and assure his place in the Ukalas as any rightful son should have. But until Stormhold, the Syliran Knights, and Glav Navik was ready all at the same time... nothing could be done but strengthen what was here. And thus it was the Windoak subtly influenced masonry to be cast around it. It influenced patrols to be placed on in a heavier status when the fragment monster could sense trouble coming. And it recruited - openly - new knights when Syliras was threatened. And threatened it was, in a monumental way, when the Black Hand rode through the gates of Syliras. A Druvin of Rhysol staking out territory blatently in Syliras was trouble. Big trouble. And so the moment the Black Hand passed into the Wind Oak's influence... a handful of leaves fell from the tree. They scattered to the four winds as if on a mission - each one incredibly valuable - to seek out those lost and those who could fit easily into the fortress city the Windoak had built with the Dyres' help. Weyliss... sound asleep... would awake when one of the silver oak leaves drifted down through his open window and rested on his chest. When the gentle leaf touched down, the power in it touched Weyliss' mind and infused his whole body with a glow. It woke him abruptly and filled his mind with the vision of a giant ancient oak growing tall within Stormhold's grasp. A voice - gentle and inhuman - echoed in his mind. "Come to me. It is time."

[Weyliss]

85th Spring 510 AV

Here he was.

Weyliss looked around the small room. He had to physically stop himself. He wanted, no ...needed to get moving. He couldn't understand it. He didn't need to. Crawling out from underneath his bed sheet, the man felt something slip from his chest. Bending down, the young man found himself looking at a leaf. Bending over, the man grasped the tip with two fingers. Raising it to eye level, Weyliss could only blink as he saw what looked to be some form of oak leaf. Seconds turned to minutes, and Weyliss found himself staring at the leaf. Then, he was on his feet. Pulling the white tunic over his head, the man moved over to a small mirror. His hair was a mess, and his beard had become quite scruffy. In one smooth movement, he grabbed the razor, and a cup of water from the dresser beside his bed.

Emerging from the small room, Weyliss ran a hand over his freshly shaven face, and looked down as if to verify something. The brown trousers framed a pair of steel-toed boots. Multiple belts braced the man's midsection, with the white tunic tucked into these. Rolling up his sleeves, the young man descended the stairs quickly. The inn was quite empty, and Weyliss gave the bartender a friendly wave as the man started to take the chairs down from the table. Then he was out the door. Once upon the streets of Syliras, the man walked with a sense of purpose. Head up high, back straight, the stern gait almost military. The hands rested in both pockets, and after about a block, Weyliss withdrew a worn, briar pipe. Rather then light or, fill it, the man simply chewed on the mouth piece, seemingly lost in thought.

As he made his way deeper into the city, he kept his eyes on a distant tower. He was seemingly oblivious to everyone. Sidestepping a woman with an armload of groceries, moving right through the center of a group of people in a rather heated debate. Right behind a pair of lovers sitting on a bench. He was oblivious to it all, and while his eyes took in the sights of Syliras, his mind's eye was filled with the image of a very, very old oak tree.

It was some time before the man arrived at Stormhold Castle. The many domes and towers dwarfing everything else in the city. The guards paid the man no heed as he walked through the massive gates. Standing alone, the young man found himself in a courtyard, with a large group of people standing and listening as a crier bellowed out several changes to several city laws. Yet it was not these people that Weyliss was looking for. He moved to one of the many hallways leading away from the courtyard, and opened the door. The hallway was filled a row of doors to his right, and a row of windows to his left. The windows where placed between each door, the light touching the walls and floor.

For a long moment, Weyliss stood still, and then started to walk. It took several more minutes, and numerous more hallways before the young man finally pushed open a set of double doors. Before him, was a massive dining hall. One of many throughout the castle. This one was especially dedicated to the knights, as a place where the brave men and women of Syliras could eat in company and away from the regular citizens of the city. Today the many long-tables where filled with inhabitants, some just eating, and some talking or reading. At the nearest table to him, Weyliss spotted a woman. As he approached, Weyliss noted several scars across her arms and neck as she turned the pages of a rather large, dusty tome.

For a long moment, Weyliss stood there, and then cleared his voice as quietly as he could.

Giving a genuine smile, he removed the pipe from his mouth, and then withdrew something from his pocket in his free hand.

"Hello friend, I was hoping you could tell me where the owner of this leaf is?"

Opening his fist, a small oak leaf was revealed in the palm of his outstretched hand.

[Gossamer]

Sir Karen Dilanthe looked up and smiled at Weyliss. There was a startlement in her eyes as she studied the leaf in his hand. The Syliran Knights took such things seriously. And while Karen was home recuperating from a mission that hadn't gone so well, there were certain obligations she had to fulfill while she was there. The knight set down her fork, rose stiffly, and outstretched her hand. She did not take the leaf, but instead offered him her own palm to shake. "I am Sir Karen Dilanthe, home on light duty from one of the outposts along the Zeltiva Road. And that .... leaf is very special. Will you follow me?" She asked, turning and picking up a cane. Karen wasn't old, not perhaps even thirty yet, but it was obvious she was recovering from a wound because she limped badly.

If Weyliss followed her, she would lead him deep into the castle. They would pass closed doors, traverse long corridors, and move ever steadily inward. Finally finding themselves standing before a double set of doors heavily guarded. The guards nodded to Karen, and opened the doors revealing a large inner courtyard in which resided a great oak tree. The tree almost looked like the castle had been built around it.

The Windoak Courtyard :

In the heart of Stormhold Castle lies an open aired courtyard that contains the single greatest treasure the Syliran Knights call their own: The Windoak. The Windoak is the primary reason why the Syliran Knights were formed and subsequently the city of Syliras was founded, and thus that is why it is also the most heavily guarded of the Syliran Treasures. Dispensing advice and giving hope in hopeless situations, the Windoak is the core of the Syliran Knighthood. The Knights even use it as their symbol. The Windoak is to the untrained eye an ancient oak. It has a smooth base that has a sleek look which tends to appear to be a man's face in the correct light. When the Windoak is actually speaking, the tree will seem to have a face push out of it that speaks in a deep resonant voice. Once it dispenses advice however, no one would ever doubt the tree was anything but special. During the Valterrian when the battle between The Gods became intensified, Ivak's wrath knew no boundaries. The god Sylir sacrificed himself in order to allow Izurdin and Morwen an opportunity to imprison him. His death resulted in a fragment monster In Mizahar, it is possible for a god to be slain, and it has happened relatively often in history. While the consequences may vary, Fragmentation occurs frequently. The deity's immense Djed ruptures, and massive slivers scatter all over the world. Each of these Fragments is sentient and represents a part of the god's personality as well a spark of their power. A Fragment, while not nearly as powerful as the entity it came from, is a formidable opponent. Each has a name and a subset of the god's domain powers. Their minds are broken and usually focus on seizing territory and ruling it according to their world vision. Far from easy to slay, they tend to create their own servants. Most Fragments existing today belong to long forgotten gods who were killed in the early days of man. that grew into the Windoak, an enormous tree. The Windoak overlooks the Suvan Sea in modern day Syliras. The tree eventually called to a Konti named Nila who lead the Dyres brothers to its location, wherein it urged them to found the Knighthood and build a city around whatever stability they could establish in the region. It worked wonderfully, and today the City of Syliras thrives. The Windoak gives advice numerous ways, depending upon who seeks it. Sometimes it actually speaks to the person if they are in any way gifted to hear the thoughts or feelings of plants. Sometimes, just staring at its bark forms words, and a message is conveyed to the observer written in wood. This only helps if the person viewing the tree can read. If someone is gifted with 'sight' or a follower of Avalis, the Windoak can give them a vision, even at a distance. To visit the Windoak, non-syliran knights must petition Loren Dyres personally. Syliran knights are given access to the oak any time. Though there were multiple fragments, only one Windoak has ever been discovered to date.

She moved forward, gesturing him to follow, before she bowed before the oak which was flanked on either sides by benches. "This is the Wind Oak." Karen said softly, glancing down again at the leaf still in Weyliss' hand. "It sends out its leaves to people it wishes to summon here. When you are summoned generallly it means it has a quest for you... something personal. A quest to become a Syliran Knight. I was once summoned here, fifteen years ago... and it changed my life for the better." She said softly. Once, a long time ago, she'd been a simple brothel worker. Now, her life mattered and she made a difference.

"The Wind Oak is all we have left of Sylir, the God of Peace and Civilization. It was said to sprout just after the Valterrian from a fragment of his soul. This is a sacred place, sir. Treat it as such. But I suggest you have a seat and wait. When its ready, it will talk to you... give you your quest." She said softly, laid a hand on his shoulder, then turned and limped out of the courtyard, leaving him alone with himself and just the massive oak tree.

[Weyliss]

As his guide withdrew her hand from his shoulder, Weyliss looked back and gave the woman's departing back a slow nod. He was alone, with the fragment of a god. Standing under the tree, his fingertips grasped the end of the leaf, and slowly spun it in front of his eyes.

What did he feel? Nothing. Everything. A part of him whined, pointing to his experiences with his old master, and his decision to give up his dream of becoming a knight. Another, smaller whisper spoke of the horrors he had seen, the massacre at Green Hearth. The old king and his court of flesh. The magi and her son. Things that had fundamentally changed him, warping his world view, and casting a shadowed veil over his eyes. Still another spoke of a family who had disappeared leaving him to make his own way in the world. Yet his reflections held no sway as the young man took a seat at the base of the tree. He sat in a cross-legged position, and turned his eyes back to the Windoak.

He knew of the history. Of Ivak, of Syliras, and later, the brothers. Sir Marrius had instilled in all his students a knowledgeable demeanor of all things Sylirian. Weyliss vaguely remembered Sir Marrius teaching them about the Windoak's sentience, and how it spoke to those who sought its advice. Sometimes a whisper on the wind, sometimes a face in the bark. Weyliss wasn't entirely sure what was true, and what was the old knight's effort to impress the boys.

He decided it was best just to clear his head. Forget everything. Settling into a breathing pattern, Weyliss focused on the leaf in front of him for a long moment. Then, leaning forward he placed the leaf at the base of the tree. Sinking back into his sitting position. It took him a moment to realize he was still chewing on the end of his pipe. Focusing on this too, Weyliss let him self drift. Not quite focusing on the tree, yet not quite focusing on anything else either.