Log file from Skywise. 3/18/2000 2:51:27 PM Players: Woodlock, Furr and Skywise. Base of the Lost Holt Father Tree(#765RJ) A dense grove of grotesquely shaped trees dominated by one immense Grandfather of a tree whose age is no less great than its size. It is obvious that the old tree has survived a terrible tragedy and you can see some of the scars left by the terrible blaze on the branches as leaves turn yellow as flame and red as blood. Brown weeds and night blooming wildflowers lie dead or dying in natural disorder around the trees roots. Like old friends, the gnarled trees embrace one another, their many branches entwining to form a canopy high above the ground, though most of the leaves now decorate the ground and crunch under your feet. It is a cool autumn afternoon. The father tree is quiet as elves and wolves sleep in their dens. Furr Furr is a fairly chiseled male elf, his features rugged yet handsome. His black hair falls straight behind his head, contrasting his light tan skin. His jawline is lined with a thin layer of facefur cut short before his chin. His body is light, lean muscle rippling with stored energy from his millenia nap. Furr is currently wearing a green tunic with a yellow-ochre trim around his shoulders and neckline. The tunic itself is fairly plain and is stitched closed in the front. He is wearing a pair of brown colored leather pants which fall around his black boots. Woodlock nods politely. Furr nods in your direction Furr has amassed a variety of drawings in the dirt of Cutter. Each Cutter sketch meeting a most untimely death. Woodlock goes over, giving the symbols a puzzled look. "What are those?" Furr tilts his head as he looks at the sketchs, "Visions of the future, perhaps?" Woodlock says "I should hope not." Furr begins to draw another sketch which bares a striking resemblence to Woodlock worshiping one of the dead Cutter sketches. Woodlock looks utterly mystified, but watches in silence, arms crossed over his chest. Furr throws down his drawing stick as he finishes, "You Wolfriders have become much like the five-figners" Woodlock looks solemnly at Furr. "And what do you consider yourself?" Furr says "I do not know, but I am not one of you. You all stray from the way too much" Woodlock looks down at the ground. "Drawing angry symbols has never been part of our way. If we have a quarrel, we give challenge or forget about it. Which way do you follow?" Furr stares intently at the drawings, where have the come from and what do they mean. He picks up the stick as if to erase them yet his hand hangs motionless. Woodlock turns his calm gaze back to Furr, perhaps waiting for an answer. Furr stabs his stick into the center of the Cutter head sketch, "I can not forget." Woodlock says "That is unfortunate." Furr nods slightly, "Yes, for your false chief" Woodlock raises an eyebrow. "Your way must truly be different. How odd, that you should mention five-fingers." Furr says "My wolfriders would never follow their chief so blindly as not to question him when he does something wrong." Woodlock smiles faintly. "Nor do we. I am sure Strongbow could tell you about that. The Way is simple: challenge his decision, accept it, or leave." Furr snorts, "I met Strongbow he spouts brave words but his thoughts mirror that of this Chief" Woodlock says "Currently, yes." He tilts his head slightly. "Why are you staying?" Furr says "This was my holt long before any of you were born" Woodlock unfolds his arms, making an expansive gesture at the surroundinggs? "The trees? They burned a few seasons ago, the whole forest did. Nothing of this was here before us. Do you mean the ground itself is enough to consider it a holt?" Furr says "When trees die n....", he stops mid sentence as he looks around him. His eyes grow wide as his thoughts move around in his brain. Furr stands gathering his things, "You are right. This holt is not my own.", he brushes past you as he begins to head into the forest. "About time you figured that one out." Skywise's voice trickles down between the branches, before his white hair and impish features show through the foilage. His tone is nothing but teasing though, not ill meant first off. Skywise Silvery white hair, thick and as soft looking as a floating cloud, is held back from his features by a blue troll-forged metal headpiece. Framing his characteristic face, the face guard adds to the appearance of blue in his silver-gray eyes. His nose is straight, not much pert to it where it rests over easy-smiling lips. Usually, you'll find an impish smirk or crooked grin there, cheeks curving up to rising cheekbones. The sharp but firm chin and the line of his jaws only add to the impish look. Lean and graceful, his small compact form witnesses the strength and agility of a wolfrider. A cord braided out of hair rests about his neck and from it, his most prized possession, is fastened securely; the wedge of a stone, which some know to be the Lodestone. His vest is of midnight blue, open in the front, which allows a display of finely toned muscles. It fringes out over his hips, from under the gray belt that mark his slim hips. Wrist-bracers in same troll forged, blue metal as his headpiece adorn his wrists, a bright metal long-dagger fastened to his left hip. His breeches are rock-gray, X-stitched at the sides and tucked into a pair of midnight blue boots. Woodlock watches the stranger disappear into the forest, then looks up at Skywise. "An odd one, that." Skywise lounges out on his perching branch, nodding down to Woodlock. "Uh huh. Says he's from Mantricker's time." Seems the 'gazer has his own opinion of that. Woodlock says "He also had a most puzzling view of the Way. Well, if he is staying, he will have to learn ours." Skywise gives a soft snort, arching his thin brows. "At least he knows this is not /his/ Holt, which is a start." What is wrong with their 'Way' anyway. Woodlock mmms, thoughtfully. "It must be a lonely thing, if he really is that old." "If he's from Mantricker's time.. " Skywise starts, propping his head up in a hand. "Who knows? Until Cutter, they didn't even know of other elves." Talk about shock to wake to this then, huh. Woodlock nods gravely to Skywise. (We've assumed to walked off, Furr.) Furr walks back into the clearing a scowl on his face. Woodlock hears Furrs approach before he comes into view, and turns to look towards the forest with interest. Skywise closes one eye and peers at the scowling elf returning, oh yeah, this one is odd. He glances to Woodlock with a silent question in his eye. Furr begins to make his way to the father tree. Whatevers on his mind, he sure looks determined to do it. Woodlock says "A brief absense." Woodlock locksends ** Perhaps he decided to take up the challenge, after all. ** Furr snorts, "I forgot something" "What, your wits?" Skywise grins cheekily, swinging down from his branch. Another glance at Woodlock and a raised brow. You locksend ** Hasn't he challenged enough around here? ** to Woodlock. Woodlock remains where he is, arms calmly folded over his chest. He returns Skywise's glance with a faint shrugh. Furr snarls, "Watch your tongue five-finger lackey Woodlock locksends ** Apparently not. If he had challenged Cutter, he should either have accepted his ways, or have left. I do assume he couldn't have won a challenge. ** Woodlock says "Perhaps you should pay attention to your own advice, stranger." Skywise's expression changes quickly enough at that, brows furrowing down. "Make me, fur-brains." Furr ignores Woodlock's comment as he climbs up the father tree You locksend ** Think Cutter would mind if I trimmed this one's ears? ** to Woodlock. Woodlock tells Skywise. "His Way is different indeed, to ignore a challenge." Woodlock locksends ** They are severely in need of trimming, I would say. ** "Lost Way, I would say." Skywise nods to Woodlock, crossing his arms over his chest and putting out his lower lip some. Furr snorts as he climbs, "I have no desire to fight false-wolfriders. Once I've gathered Shenshen and her belongings you will hear from me no longer" You sense in a locksend, Woodlock sends an idle image of Furr being thrown head- first into the *cold* river. You locksend to Woodlock, Skywise grins impishly, definitely agreeing with that image. Skywise casts a quick glance at Woodlock, then saunters up to the roots of the tree. Looking at his nails, he comments up to the climbing Furr. "Anyone with real wolfblood in their veins, would take a challenge." He gives a grin towards Woodlock. "But at least he know what will keep his furs warm, huh?" Furr again ignores Skywise's taunts as he climbs up. Woodlock looks up after Furr, unfolding his arms. Well, he'll have to come down again afterwards... Silent sends are apparently exchanged with Skywise, then he speaks. "It is interesting that he would choose a sunfolk maiden, after making such a remark about those not wolfriders." Furr okays that's it. He leaps out at the tree pulling out his only weapon the stone head of his spear. He slashes it outward as he falls atop Woodlock. Skywise's eyes widens at the foolish elf. Attacking the most docile of the group, with no apparent reason at all? You locksend ** Show him, Woodlock! <> ** to Woodlock. Woodlock is utterly unarmed himself, of course. But the attack is not entirely unexpected, and he is still a wolfrider, despite many years in the quiet village. Grabbing Furr's arm, he managed to avoid inital damage as both fall to the ground. Furr is now in a bestial rage wanting only to win! He smashes the stone towards Woodlock's head repeatedly! Skywise crosses over to the two, though doesn't interfere. It's Woodlock's fight, even if every nerve in the 'gazer's body itches to clip the strangers ears for this. Just wait 'til Cutter hears of this! Woodlock snarls at Furr, concentrating on keeping the stone spearhead away from his own. ** Now learn this of our Way, stranger. Mad wolves are driven from the tribe, if they do not leave on their own. ** He aims a kick at Furr, hands still locked on his arm. Furr turns to the right to avoid the kick which only succeed in rolling the pair. In frustration he sends with all his might to Woodlock ** HATE ANGER GRIEF RAGE ** Woodlock's send isn't all that it used to be, after so many years among the send-deaf villagers. Wincing, he blocks Furr's furious send as best he can, going with the momentum to keep them rolling on the ground. And incidentally trying to small that stone-wielding hand against a handy root, or somesuch. Skywise dances around the two elves, more in a wolfish battle now. His eyebrows nearly disappear under his headpiece at the send. Why blame /them/ for something they weren't even alive to witness? His lips draws back in a snarl, growing more protective of the holt and the elves living here by the moment. You locksend to Woodlock, Skywise seem to just wait for an excuse to interfere. Woodlock locksends ** This one really knows nothing of challenges. Can you get that weapon away from him? I will whip his hide for trying that! ** Furr extends his leg out to the side to stop the roll, his foot stirring up a cloud of sand into the air. As the dust settles it can be seen that Furr has let the stone drop to the ground and is blankly staring Woodlock in the eyes. Skywise dances over and snags the stone, tossing it idly in the air. Tilting his head, he watches the scene unfold. Woodlock disengages once the stone is away, and rolls into a crouch, blue eyes flaring back at Furr. ** You know nothing of challenges. Fight fairly, or not at all. ** "And he claims to be of 'better' blood then us." Skywise is equally disgusted, standing there with the stone in his hand. Furr glares at Woodlock coldly before leaping towards him again. However this time he uses Woodlock as a springboard to throw a swift kick to Skywise's head. Woodlock dodges Furr's apparent assault, looking surprised at the resulting action. "He really is mad!" The conventions of the challenge thus doubly ignored, he then leaps to hsi feet, launching himself at Furr from behind. You sense in a locksend, Woodlock resends the image of the river, with conviction, this time. Skywise has been poised and ready for anything from this elf, eyes narrowing he crouches down and a hand shoots up to grab Furr's ankle. A deep growl emits from him, lips drawn back in a wolfish snarl. What do we do with mad wolves? A locksend quickly grasps the solution. You locksend to Woodlock, Skywise nods mentally, ready to dose this one off. Furr is plowed from behind by Woodlock which only serves to throw him at Skywise harder. A wide open maw waits for it's chance to sink it's teeth into the chipmunk faced elf! Skywise don't think so, twisting to curl an arm about Furr's neck. In the twist, he raises a knee to plug into Furr's stomach, hoping to knock the air out of him with the combined force of Woodlock's attack. Furr lets out an audible whoosh of air as he pelted by the chipmunk face. Woodlock concentrates on securing Furr's legs, since Skywise seems to have the upper half somewhat under control. Furr puts up no form of resistance as he gasps for air. Skywise gives Woodlock a quick look along with a send, tightening his grip about Furr's neck. Gasp all you want, nutcase. You locksend ** <> ** to Woodlock. Woodlock keeps an equally secure grip on Furr's legs, getting to his feet and moving purposefully along once Skywise has him in his grip. Furr choke wheezes for air!! He hasn't hurt this much since...well he won't think of that.. Woodlock walks away from the tree, back into the clearing that marks the entrance to the Lost Holt. You walk away from the tree, back into the clearing that marks the entrance to the Lost Holt. Silver Run River The water is cold on your feet, playing about your ankles and calves. Small stones catch and reflect the light. Skywise doesn't ease up too much on his grip, his eyes now twinkling mischeviously as he and Woodlock treks through the Holt. Arriving to the agreed spot, he wades into the river. "I think it's time someone cooled off." Woodlock matches Skywise's grin, and swings Furr back and forth by the legs. At the (silent) count of three, he and Skywise release Furr simultaneously, at the height of the arch. Furr aroooos as he's flung into the river! SPLASH!! His arms and legs flail about as he tries to right himself. Thousands of bubbles break the surface as the old wolfrider thrashes about. Woodlock brushes off his hands, wading back to the shore before enjoying the show. The river is *cold* at this time of year. Skywise laughs, stepping back up on the bank and watching the thrashing elf. Hands on his hips, he waits for the old one to drown or stand up. It's not that deep you know. Furr thrashes for a few moments more before laying still. He spurts a gout of water into the air before allowing himself to float to the river surface and beging to flow downstream with the water. Woodlock says "I do think he is getting the gist of it. If you loose, you show throat or leave." "Remarkably slow, for one with such feist." Skywise adds, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes continue to sparkle with mirth, this was good fun. Woodlock continues chatting with Skywise. "Do you think Shenshen would actually be inclined to follow him?" Skywise chuckles, smiling-wrinkles showing up around his eyes. "Looking like that?" Then again, wet wolves might be attractive to Shenshen. "I spose I could distract her." Woodlock nods sagely, watching the drifting elf until he's out of view. (Or is he scrambling ashore at some point?) "I am certain she would appreciate that." Furr comes aground on the other side of the shore. He drags himself to dryer land however with all that fur on his body he looks like a giant wet mop. Skywise grins and steps further up on land, crouching down to look over at the wet elf. "Of course. She still has a few things to learn about the stars." He winks impishly. Woodlock and Skywise are carefully watching to see if Furr seems inclined to return, of course. Furr props himself against a tree as he slowly regains his breath. Woodlock says "I should have thought she had gotten quite a bit of instruction about that in the seven turns we all dwelled at Sorrow's End." He reconsider, and smiles. "But what are seven years, after all?" Skywise cups his hands by his mouth, calling across the river to Furr. "How was the swim?" He then grins at Woodlock. "Exactly." We all know how Shenshen is, need to be reminded every now and then y'know. Woodlock smiles the faint smile of the happily lifemated, accepting the statement. He looks over at Furr again as Skywise calls out. Furr frowns at the elves across the river as he shakily stands. His arm rests against the tree behind him for support as he begins to walk in the opposite direction. "Guess he's leaving." Skywise dances up on the ball of foot, 'balancing' along the ground he's walking on. With another impish grin, he flings out his arms. "Ahh, I love the Way." He starts heading back to the Father tree, to see what other mischief he can get into. Woodlock turns his back on the river, returning to the holt with Skywise.