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Description

Featuring Aytan

Mid-Autumn, Year 758 of the New Age

Glenmore Close to the Great Oak

It was Autumn, or storm-season, as it was more frequently known, and many associated the falling leaves and cold morning as the time when Óganach decided to test the mettle of his subjects, and send a storm or two to keep them on their hooves. This day, however, was truly miserable, even by Autumn standards, the sun never truly breaking through the dense, charcoal grey cloud cover overhead. The skies promised a true Autumn storm at some point in the next day or two, but the endless rain was yet to be accompanied by the dull roar of thunder or a spark of lightning. Aytan was on Guard duty, as always, patrolling the area closest to the Great Oak, to try and prevent rutting stags from getting too close to the sacred tree. Not that there was much fighting today. The majority of the does and older stags had retreated to the cover of denser forest, leaving the younger and less experienced males to hover awkwardly on the edge of the clearing, awaiting the retreat of the rain and the return of the does.

The red Guard was soaked to the bone, well and truly. He half-wished the Sky King would send the storm sooner, just to make the endless rain end. He'd woken up drenched after he'd slept under a badly-chosen tree, and the rain had been so relentless he'd had no chance to dry. Mud caked his feathers all the way to his knees, and the looming threat of night was already making him shiver. At least when night did come, he could return to the Oak and find somewhere dry to spend the night.

A distant peal of thunder rolled across the Glenwood, signalling the storm was approaching, sweeping in from the North like a relentless tide. With all hope of a peaceful nights sleep extinguished, Aytan glanced upwards to see the grey sky now black, barely distinguishable from the dark foliage above his head. A drop of rainwater hit him straight in the eye, and he shook his head angrily, snorting; he wanted nothing more than to get out of this rain. As soon as he was directly North of the Oak he would turn South and head back. Even he could not be expected to maintain Rut-guard when there was no chance of anyone rutting.

A reverberating boom of thunder echoed through the trees, much, closer this time, though again no lightning accompanied it. Alarm barks sounded from all around him; no doubt there were many fawnlings in this area, huddled under thickets and between roots in an attempt to stay warm and dry. The thought of their shelter quickened Aytan's stride.

Thunder rumbled through the forest like a wave, and the ground beneath his feet shuddered slightly, making him lose his step. He came to a slow halt and peered upwards again, frowning. From what he could tell, the storm seemed almost overhead, but there was still no lightning. A missing bolt once was not unheard of, but three times? Never. His ears pinned against his neck: this storm was not natural. It was too fast-moving, too loud, too... powerful.

Suddenly, there was a deafening roar of thunder overhead, and Aytan was sent staggering into a tree as the ground beneath his feet shifted and bucked like a newborn fawn. The entire forest was illuminated in dazzling blue for a brief moment before darkness returned and the forest once again fell silent, save only for the patter of rain on the leaves over his head. The stag blinked rapidly, still crouched beside the tree, not sure whether it was safe to stand without it's support. An irritating high-pitched whining in his ears made him rub an ear against his knee, before he realised the sounds were not inside his head, and not whining. They were the screams and shrieks of panicked fawnlings. The pained noises came from the South, in the direction of the Great Oak.

The Great Oak.

The Guard was ploughing through foliage and shrubbery before he realised he had left the tree, his hoofbeats sounding like the thunder that had just caused so much chaos. He emerged on a small outcrop, with the Great Oak and the clearing just below him.

The rain poured down on him in a relentless deluge as he took in the decimation in front of him. The Great Oak, the mighty idol of Glenmore, lay in two blackened, burning pieces on the floor of the clearing where it had stood for centuries. The entire clearing seemed ablaze, drowned in orange flames. There was no sign of movement besides the flickering fire, but Aytan was too far away to know for certain. His mind was blank, he could feel no emotion or urge besides complete and utter horror.

A faint hum of thunder reverberated through the forest from miles away. The storm the Sky King had sent this time had struck Glenmore at its heart, destroying the herd's most precious relic, as well as their only true connection with Óganach.

Aytan's eyes widened as he realised what this meant, and he fell to his knees with a heavy thud. "Óganach has abandoned us," he whispered into the rain, a sob rumbling from deep within his chest and emerging as an anguished roar that echoed out over the canopy, before being swallowed by the rain.

First of all, this plotline is sheer genius. Many credits and much bacon goes to Ehetere and TigressDesign for coming up with such an amazing idea, and playing it out so well. Though I must say, I feel very bad for poor Dru - he hasn't had a good run so far, has he?

I had to draw Aytan's reaction to this - he's been a Glenmore all his life and has been constantly surrounded by their worship and praise of Óganach, so such a definite sign of the Sky King's abandonment would not be too happy a moment for the big red man I might do a reaction image for Thalia as well, though I'm not sure how I'd work it into her plot at the moment.

Art, characters, story (C) me
Original action (C) TigressDesign and Ehetere

Description

Featuring Aytan

Mid-Autumn, Year 758 of the New Age

Glenmore Close to the Great Oak

It was Autumn, or storm-season, as it was more frequently known, and many associated the falling leaves and cold morning as the time when Óganach decided to test the mettle of his subjects, and send a storm or two to keep them on their hooves. This day, however, was truly miserable, even by Autumn standards, the sun never truly breaking through the dense, charcoal grey cloud cover overhead. The skies promised a true Autumn storm at some point in the next day or two, but the endless rain was yet to be accompanied by the dull roar of thunder or a spark of lightning. Aytan was on Guard duty, as always, patrolling the area closest to the Great Oak, to try and prevent rutting stags from getting too close to the sacred tree. Not that there was much fighting today. The majority of the does and older stags had retreated to the cover of denser forest, leaving the younger and less experienced males to hover awkwardly on the edge of the clearing, awaiting the retreat of the rain and the return of the does.

The red Guard was soaked to the bone, well and truly. He half-wished the Sky King would send the storm sooner, just to make the endless rain end. He'd woken up drenched after he'd slept under a badly-chosen tree, and the rain had been so relentless he'd had no chance to dry. Mud caked his feathers all the way to his knees, and the looming threat of night was already making him shiver. At least when night did come, he could return to the Oak and find somewhere dry to spend the night.

A distant peal of thunder rolled across the Glenwood, signalling the storm was approaching, sweeping in from the North like a relentless tide. With all hope of a peaceful nights sleep extinguished, Aytan glanced upwards to see the grey sky now black, barely distinguishable from the dark foliage above his head. A drop of rainwater hit him straight in the eye, and he shook his head angrily, snorting; he wanted nothing more than to get out of this rain. As soon as he was directly North of the Oak he would turn South and head back. Even he could not be expected to maintain Rut-guard when there was no chance of anyone rutting.

A reverberating boom of thunder echoed through the trees, much, closer this time, though again no lightning accompanied it. Alarm barks sounded from all around him; no doubt there were many fawnlings in this area, huddled under thickets and between roots in an attempt to stay warm and dry. The thought of their shelter quickened Aytan's stride.

Thunder rumbled through the forest like a wave, and the ground beneath his feet shuddered slightly, making him lose his step. He came to a slow halt and peered upwards again, frowning. From what he could tell, the storm seemed almost overhead, but there was still no lightning. A missing bolt once was not unheard of, but three times? Never. His ears pinned against his neck: this storm was not natural. It was too fast-moving, too loud, too... powerful.

Suddenly, there was a deafening roar of thunder overhead, and Aytan was sent staggering into a tree as the ground beneath his feet shifted and bucked like a newborn fawn. The entire forest was illuminated in dazzling blue for a brief moment before darkness returned and the forest once again fell silent, save only for the patter of rain on the leaves over his head. The stag blinked rapidly, still crouched beside the tree, not sure whether it was safe to stand without it's support. An irritating high-pitched whining in his ears made him rub an ear against his knee, before he realised the sounds were not inside his head, and not whining. They were the screams and shrieks of panicked fawnlings. The pained noises came from the South, in the direction of the Great Oak.

The Great Oak.

The Guard was ploughing through foliage and shrubbery before he realised he had left the tree, his hoofbeats sounding like the thunder that had just caused so much chaos. He emerged on a small outcrop, with the Great Oak and the clearing just below him.

The rain poured down on him in a relentless deluge as he took in the decimation in front of him. The Great Oak, the mighty idol of Glenmore, lay in two blackened, burning pieces on the floor of the clearing where it had stood for centuries. The entire clearing seemed ablaze, drowned in orange flames. There was no sign of movement besides the flickering fire, but Aytan was too far away to know for certain. His mind was blank, he could feel no emotion or urge besides complete and utter horror.

A faint hum of thunder reverberated through the forest from miles away. The storm the Sky King had sent this time had struck Glenmore at its heart, destroying the herd's most precious relic, as well as their only true connection with Óganach.

Aytan's eyes widened as he realised what this meant, and he fell to his knees with a heavy thud. "Óganach has abandoned us," he whispered into the rain, a sob rumbling from deep within his chest and emerging as an anguished roar that echoed out over the canopy, before being swallowed by the rain.

First of all, this plotline is sheer genius. Many credits and much bacon goes to Ehetere and TigressDesign for coming up with such an amazing idea, and playing it out so well. Though I must say, I feel very bad for poor Dru - he hasn't had a good run so far, has he?

I had to draw Aytan's reaction to this - he's been a Glenmore all his life and has been constantly surrounded by their worship and praise of Óganach, so such a definite sign of the Sky King's abandonment would not be too happy a moment for the big red man I might do a reaction image for Thalia as well, though I'm not sure how I'd work it into her plot at the moment.

Art, characters, story (C) me
Original action (C) TigressDesign and Ehetere