alyndra of the wood
The ethereal light forms lead their charges down their chosen paths, whisping away into nothing before they can reach the end. One moment, they are there, and the next they are nothing but swirling light drifting off into the forest before disappearing out of sight. Now, there are just the equines and their paths stretching out before them, guiding them deeper into the forest.
Or so they think.
Those who have chosen the left path will find it opening back where they began: outside the forest. With no way to re-enter, they have clearly chosen the wrong route and been led away from their goal and back into the world. It is as the forest deems, and they will have no choice but to forget the spirit within, and the supposed riches the mystery holds.
For the ones who picked the rightward trail, it is clear the forest is not done with them. It begins to change, shifting even more around them. Are they imagining it? The leaves on the trees are soon no longer leaves but crystals, and the trees themselves almost seem to be encased in a glimmering gemstone.
A strong breeze begins to wind through the trees, and the quiet forest sees a change.
Life and sound are breathed into the crystallized woods, the wind brushing against the thinner crystals and leaving them tinkling together in a mystical song. The chiming is pleasant but somber. The lonely tune of the singing forest is peaceful and mysterious; caught somewhere between a lullaby and secret whisperings.
What moonlight filters through the crystals leaves a mosaic effect on the forest floor; sparkling purple and blue lights dancing along branches, earth, and everything that moves beneath the canopy. It is beautiful, and so eerily alone.
Where the path ends, it opens upon a small clearing. Ahead, crystals sprout from the ground like the ones covering the trees. They rise up like a beautiful, strange gravemarker in the middle of the woods. They glimmer, and beckon. Do they dare approach?
Strangely, the voice that seemed to have been calling the equines here has stopped. But something… something has been awakened within.
Soundless, her hooves drag across the ground, and pupil-less, tired white eyes drop ephemeral tears. Her silvery form seems to wisp about as though her hair floats lightly; looking intangible as though she went in and out of existence. Sprouting from her neck and shoulders are crystal clusters that thicken on her shoulders and gradually become smaller down her spine.
She seeks them, the equines who have come this far, and oh how long she has waited. Her movements are strange, heavy, as though she does not have complete control over her limbs. She moves ever closer to them, a keening, high-pitched humming coming from deep within her chest. It almost seems like she doesn’t see them there, doesn’t know she isn’t even alone.
But then she stops, and her head lifts, and her milky white eyes lock onto them. “Two have come… but which of you is worthy? Which of you is true inside?” Could this be Alyndra, the rumored spirit that roams these woods, searching and calling for help? The spectral mare doesn’t look away from them, where they stand, although at times it seems as if she looks through them, beyond them. Or perhaps into them.
There is something lonely about her, something lost and searching. How long has she been here, trapped? “Answer my question, and we will see… yes,” her voice is softer, echoing, and clearly matches the voice that had brought them here in the first place. “Answer my question, and I will know which of you is good, and true.”
She moves in closer to them, almost too close. So close that it is easier to see the trees through her translucent form. So close that a cold chill drifts off of her phantom form. At this distance you can see that the tears that drip from the curve of her cheek never reach the ground. You can hear that there is no breath from her lungs.
“If you were gifted unparalleled power, how would you use it?" She asks her question, and she waits. A world of possibilities, so many paths to take. So many turns to make, and one wrong turn could lead to ruin.
The characters who have chosen the left path have been led out of the forest, unable to return, while those who have chosen the right path will find themselves in a transformed wood, where the trees appear to be made out of crystal.
The path opens up to a clearing, where there is what seems to be a gravestone made of large crystals sprouting from the ground. Here, the remaining characters encounter Alyndra, the spirit trapped and wandering through the forest. She approaches your characters, and seems convinced she must get to know if they are truly good. She asks them a question.
How will your character answer?
This round is a little bit different! Alyndra will choose only one of the character's answers and they will be rewarded with her gift! You have until 11:59pm EST on Friday, November 22nd to reply.
The path opens up to a clearing, where there is what seems to be a gravestone made of large crystals sprouting from the ground. Here, the remaining characters encounter Alyndra, the spirit trapped and wandering through the forest. She approaches your characters, and seems convinced she must get to know if they are truly good. She asks them a question.
How will your character answer?
This round is a little bit different! Alyndra will choose only one of the character's answers and they will be rewarded with her gift! You have until 11:59pm EST on Friday, November 22nd to reply.
