Wrynn gets an egg

Unpretentious bedchambers.
Banks of clouds roil about here. This ancient bedroom seems to have been converted into a study shortly before its usefulness was past. A small, unpretentious bed lies in one corner, and bookshelves cover much of the remaining space. Most of the shelves are empty, or filled with statuettes and varying trinkets. Despite its total neglect in recent years, the room seems still to be well kept and in perfect order, and not a single scrap of dust is to be seen anywhere.
You see a single exit leading west (open door).

The temperature of the room suddenly becomes very cold, to the point where your breath steams in white clouds.

Wrynn has been slain in the Shadowvale Arena by Shadowveil Guardian Tirah Mzithrei, of the Haze-Wreathed Ebon.

It is now the 18th of Dvarsh, 655 years after the Coming of Estarra.

(Auguries): Tirah says, "Takhre, are you able to summon companion Crows?"

You warble thoughtfully, clicking your tongue.

(Auguries): You say, "Mm... I believe so?"

(Auguries): Tirah says, "Could you summon one for Wrynn? She is in need of a companion."

(Auguries): You say, "Hm. A moment."

You tug upon the aether strands around you, searching for one that connects to Wrynn.
You have recovered equilibrium.

You teleport along the aether strands to Wrynn.

A sombre gallery overlooking the Shadowvale.
Offering a sweeping view of the entire arena, neat rows of thick tree trunks, their surfaces worn to a smooth sheen, provide ample seating for those gathered to observe the fray. Tall columns of intricately carved Ravenwood display multiple poses of the mighty Crow, His watchful eye seeming to follow the movement of the combatants. Clutched in the powerful talons of each foreboding image are brightly burning torches, which provide enough light to illuminate even the darkest of evenings. Despite the blazing flames, shadows cull silently in the corners of the rooms, licking the edges of the walls with tendrils of the deepest Night. A mature blackthorn tree stands proudly here. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd is here. She wields a colossal broadsword of Night and Crow in each hand.
You see exits leading southeast and west.

Wrynn inclines her head politely to you.

You ponder Wrynn thoughtfully, looking her up and down.

---> Look Wrynn (tall lady!!)

She is a shaggy igasho. She looms over most at a full nine and a half feet tall, presenting a somewhat imposing figure. Her frame presents broad shoulders and thick arm arms supported by a solid core, with her heavy musculature apparent even beneath the dense fur that covers much of her body. Where the pale grey insulation grows thin her nearly pallid skin can be seen and is especially prominent in her face, where the pale white flesh is contrasted with both brilliant emerald eyes and the deep red of the hair that frames it. Sharp facial features peer out from beneath the wild mane of loose curls fall around her shoulders and cascade in ruby waves down to the small of her back, and if one were to have a high enough vantage point above her they'd be able to see the same pale grey of her fur showing through at the roots.
She is wearing:
an indigo sari of dusk-coloured hues
a star-etched moonstone ring
a dark lightning inlaid scabbard hanging loosely from her hips
a dark lightning inlaid scabbard hanging loosely from her hips
a star-etched moonstone ring
a star-etched pearl ring
a star-etched moonstone ring
a star-etched bloodstone ring
a thin sapphire band

In a melodic quaver, you say, "You will make a fine nest. Plenty of fluffy material."

Wrynn peers at you unscrupulously.

Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd says, "Anything I can do for compensation?"

In a melodic quaver, you say, "I require an amount of power from the Master. Beyond that, you must simply serve the Wyrd and not fail Great Crow."

You beckon to Wrynn.

Wrynn begins to follow you.

Wrynn follows you southeast.

Before the Master Ravenwood Tree.
The dark heart of Glomdoring Forest is almost audibly beating in this, its shadowy centre. Tall, blackened trees surround this clearing, pressing together into an imposing barrier of rotten vegetation. Moulds and fungi are smeared across the plants, their pungent stench suffusing the forest. The branches are coated in dark slime, slick tendrils that hang downwards. Although a variety of trees might actually grow here, the black tar that coats them renders them indistinguishable. A thin black mist creeps between the trees, hanging low across the ground. The floor of the clearing itself is simply bare earth, cracked and dry. Overshadowing all is the Master Ravenwood Tree itself, jutting into the sky like a twisted fist. The sound of laughing crows echoes down from the treetops, a harsh sound for the ears below. The atmosphere vibrates with a palpable power. Brennan Stormcrow paces here, his cadaverous body twitching with sudden jerks. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a bat around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a spider around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a beetle around its skull. An animated skeleton stands here with a ghostly outline of a wasp around its skull. The Master Ravenwood Tree towers over everything here, pulsing with an immeasurable yet dark power. Casting darkness all around, a shadow totem thrusts up from the ground, chilling the air. Covered in bone armour, a giant bat hangs here, wings folded about its body and one beady eye open. A black direwolf is here, blending in with the shadows. Covered in bone armour, a green eyelash viper is slithering about here. A crudely crafted shrine of harsh black crystal stands here, thrumming powerfully. Splintered from the Master Ravenwood, a massive branch lies here, spiders crawling along its rotting wood. There are 10 shadowlord widowriders here. There are 10 illithoid scourges here. There are 10 dark nighthags here. A mature blackthorn tree stands proudly here. There are 6 curious young kittens here. There are 4 dusky brocade moths here.
You see a single exit leading north.

You lay your hands upon the Master Ravenwood Tree and feel the latent power within. Closing your eyes, you tap directly into its coursing energy and begin channeling its energy into your own reserves.

Wrynn jerks slightly as the air fills with sparkling motes of bright light.

You channel energy from your link with the Master Ravenwood Tree.

Wind fills the area as a murder of crows descends from the skies. Stepping forth from the inner circle of crows, Tirah quickly composes themself and locks their eyes with the largest red-eyed bird of the group. As Tirah bows respectfully towards the red beady-eyed crow, the murder again takes flight and leaves the area just as subtly as they came.

Tirah gives the world a smart salute.

Wrynn inclines her head politely to Tirah.

You have emoted: Takhre seems focused and intent, laying their claws gently atop the Master Ravenwood Tree's bark.

In a melodic quaver, you say, "We will do this in the Ethereal Glomdoring."

Gaze sharp, you say to Tirah, "Will you be joining us, Guardian?"

Tirah nods their head emphatically.

You tilt your head curiously at Tirah.

Tirah begins to follow you.

Your link to the Master Ravenwood Tree is severed as you cannot draw any more dross power.

In a melodic, androgynous voice, Shadowveil Guardian Tirah Mzithrei, of the Haze-Wreathed Ebon says, "Nobody else is showing up for the fight, so I am free once more."

You have emoted: Takhre nods and pulls their hands away. "Good."

You place your hands on the Master Ravenwood Tree and find the link to the ethereal plane. Pulsating energy flares throughout your field of vision, and you find yourself tumbling through the aether pathways.
Wrynn follows you ether.
Tirah follows you ether.

The resonating centre of Glomdoring's black heart.
Reigning over the utter destruction that once rampaged through this room is the presence of the Wyrd, which pulses with a rhythm that reverberates through every leaf and twig. The entire glade is dwarfed by the massive shards of tree that emanated from the centre of the change. Ebony sap streams down the bark, dark mauve toadstools growing in circles around the massive girth, glowing with a sepulchral luminescence that highlights the surroundings in a baleful light. The surrounding trees grow tall and dark, with the whispering praise and the howls of triumph of the winds. The Master Ravenwood Tree towers over everything here, pulsing with an immeasurable yet dark power. Firmly set into the ground, a pulsating branch of the Master Ravenwood has been set here. A mature blackthorn tree stands proudly here. There are 20 illithoid scourges here. There are 20 shadowlord widowriders here. There are 20 dark nighthags here. Settled within the branches of an ancient and skeletal tree roosts a murder of crows, their voices harsh and deafening as their caws peal through the air. An elder ravenwood tree thrusts up from the ground here, the air around it thick and dark. Radiating with the power of the wyrd, the very presence of this champion darkens the room. A leopard lurks in the shadows, curiously watching anything that moves. Nothing more than a puffball with cerulean eyes, a seal lynx point ragdoll kitten lies here lounging languidly. Clad in matte black leather, a golden-eyed savage lingers here like a living shadow.
You see exits leading south and up.
Lifting her head, Ilistala looks at you hopefully.

You incline your head politely to Xenthos.

Tirah pets Ilistala, an enormous leopard ingratiatingly.
A loud rumbling emanates from Ilistala as she rubs against Tirah.

In a melodic quaver, you say, "Great Uncle, good to see you."

Tirah follows you south.
Wait timer expired.
Wrynn follows you south.

Avenue of jagged trees and darkness.
The loud, echoing caw of crows permeates the air, filling the area with a feeling of dread from a war shrine of Viravain nearby. The final transformation of the forest occurs here as the entire area emanates with a dark aura that gleams from the very branches overhead. Twisted shapes line the avenue of approach to the north and the jagged boles of trees leer with insane visages that seem to exude daggers of pain. Crawling vines choke off the life of any other plants that attempt to encroach upon the area and rip away the very vistages of colour for their own malign survival. A mature hemlock tree stands proudly here. Rising from a lattice of black vines, a large black shrubbery grows here. Radiating with the power of the wyrd, the very presence of this champion darkens the room. There are 2 Daughters of Darkness here.
You see exits leading north, east, south, west, and up.

In a melodic quaver, you say, "Alright."

(OOC): Wrynn says, "It really feels like everyone save Xenthos and Wrynn in Glom are short."
(OOC): Tirah says, "Hey as an elfen I am huge."

A chirp precedes the arrival of a small ball of fluff which races around the room before finally slowing down enough to identify it as an adorably small snow leopard.
An adorably small and fluffy snow leopard comes to a stop before you and proudly displays a note reading: Chirp!
An adorably small and fluffy snow leopard turns and zooms off into the distance, moving so quickly that it is naught but a fluffy blur until it vanishes from view.

(OOC): Tirah says, "The lack of sunlight is stunting us."

You have emoted: Takhre glances at the adorable leopard toy with a passive stare and turns to Wrynn. "To care for one of Crow's children is a great burden. Will you honor his progeny and give back for this gift the Wyrd bestows on you?"

Carefully bringing her vast blades to home in their scabbards and standing straighter, Wrynn gazes down at you and gives a slow nod, "Of course, I serve the Glomdoring and the wyrd."
With a flourish, Wrynn slips a colossal broadsword of Night and Crow into a dark lightning inlaid scabbard.
With a flourish, Wrynn slips a colossal broadsword of Night and Crow into a dark lightning inlaid scabbard.

You have emoted: Takhre stares up at Wrynn, their tinted lips pulled into a fine line as they look the igasho up and down after their response. "Treat your companion well, as they are a servant of the Forest just as you are." Pomegranate eyes flash darkly, their voice steely growing steely as they continue, "If you ever fail in your duties and are found wanting, do not drag them from the great canopies of our commune with you. A crow must stay in Glomdoring."

In a melodic quaver, you say, "Hold your hand out, Nascent Wrynn."

Wrynn reaches her hands out, both cupped together. The looming figure leans down so the waiting palms are waiting just at chest level of the trill with a quiet reverence.

You spread your black wings and caw loudly to Crow. Soon, a foul wind blows down around you as Mighty Crow comes flapping in from above, carrying a black egg within his talons. With a sharp nod to you, Mighty Crow drops the egg into your hands and then flies off.

You have emoted: Takhre bows in reverence as Crow flies away, before gently placing the egg in Wrynn's hands.
You give a giant black crow egg to Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd.

Nodding their head, you say, "Glory be to Glomdoring."

Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd says, "Glory be to Glomdoring."

In a melodic, androgynous voice, Shadowveil Guardian Tirah Mzithrei, of the Haze-Wreathed Ebon says, "Glory be to Glomdoring."

In a melodic quaver, you say, "You know how to care for beasts, right?"
You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd says, "To a certain extent, at least."

You have emoted: Takhre makes a gentle shooing motion. "Well, go incubate your egg then. I need to go convince some foolish krokani ghosts to stop wailing."

Tirah nods their head emphatically.

In a melodic, androgynous voice, Shadowveil Guardian Tirah Mzithrei, of the Haze-Wreathed Ebon says, "Good luck with your exorcism."

Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd says, "Thank you for your time."

In a melodic quaver, you say, "Mmgh. Just, go tear out some throats with your companion when they grow strong enough for it. That is thanks enough."

Tirah leaves, following Nascent Wrynn, Attendant to the Wyrd.
Wrynn leaves to the north.