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The Root that Grows Deep; Does Not Wither
Topic Started: Jul 11 2008, 06:32 PM (195 Views)
Meldithond
Member Avatar

Ardians
The ethereal voices of birds rang and pealed through the shifting vale of Glamrenindris; bird-song dreamed up by the unleashed imagination of a god, an imagination which in this place was able to take shape and embody itself freely. Amongst the canopy flew wings of living fire; of living pearl; of glittering obsidian. The voices of these dream-like birds were more varied and diverse than any but a God of Nature could imagine; a god who had relinquished all embodiment, a god who had released his entire essence into the entirety of nature. And in this place, perhaps above all places, could be felt that the inspiring force of Nature -though he no longer wandered and hunted in the form of a man- was more alive than ever, and well.
But Glamrenindris, for all its' wonder, was still only a place of dreamscape. One step in any direction might change the vista from closeted bayou, to rearing mountain peak.
This is what made the phenomenon of Meldithond so remarkable. He was alive. He knew his name; and he had a lasting shape, and a destiny of his own.
He was the only child of Glamrenindris -the place where the imagination of a god knew no bounds and could be given shape. The one creature to awake in the realisation of life, was the tiniest creature imaginable. A Root Golem.
Scuttling and wreathing amongst bramble, between twig and frond, Meldithond knew peace and contentment. His life was one of sound and smell; his sharp hearing, and his sense of smell those by which he measured his perspective of his world.
Glamrenindris was far from a lonely place -even if one was certain to meet the ethereal characters but once. Meldithond had met giants, and had conjurd his sycamore-seed-like wings to flutter beside faeries. He had bandied the competition of The Final Say with brooding boggarts; and had twined himself into the manes of unicorns.
Meldithond was only certain of one thing: I sneeze, therefore I am.

That day, Galmrenindris -which was warped into its given shape through the thoughts and feelings of the most dominant mind present- had taken the appearance of a dark wilderland of roiling swamp-water and gnarled trees. But trees such as these Meldithond had never seen the likes of, nor could he imagine any kind of root golem spawning from the likes of them. In place of sap, they were filled with curdling lava, and suddenly hissing steam. Their gnarled boles like the spewing of lava, like the marvellous bark of the cork-oak gone wrong, made from flaking and sulphur-stinking stone. In place of leaves of good green, dangling blades, like razors, each a perfectly reflective mirror.
Meldithond bumbled through the air, on wings like the seeds of a sycamore, his passage -darting warily from belching clouds of discoloured gases belched out of ember-glowing cracks in the fire-trees- a gentle humming sound. He chittered and sneezed to himself, licking his stung-nostrils with a tiny black tongue, and flittering his long trailing whiskers in his distress.
He had never seen Glamrenindris reflect the inner-turmoil of anyone so potently or horrifically before. His heart was filled with concern and compassion. Seemingly little more than a falling leaf, Meldithond careened and fluttered through the turmoil of the fire-tree swamp, searching for the one whose heart was in such distress.
[align=center]
Name: Meldithond
Inventory
Clone1Clone2Clone3Clone4Clone5
Race: Symbiote-Shapeshifter; bonded with Root Golem.
Height: varies between 5-20cm
Build: Meldithond is shaped like a tiny cat, or a little grey-hound of roots. At will he is able to grow wings, like the helicopter seeds of sycamore, and can sustain flight a bit like a bumble-bee does -a little ponderous and heavy-seeming for such tiny wings.
Feats:
Weapons Mastery -Staves; Whirlwind Attack.
Familiars:
Root Golem. Including complete evolutions.
Skills:
Forage; Master Forager; Hunt; Master Hunter; Intuit Path; Master of Paths; Ally to Beasts.
Spells:
Summon Warrior; Summon Master Warrior; Clone Warrior; Superior Heal.
Other Magic:
Liradan Equipment set; Breath-Sense; Foresight; Fly; Telekenesis; Improved Telekenesis; Share-spells (Root-Golem); Blur.

Meet Meldithond
Learn Battle Root-Golem Style

Rp Sites that unlocked my Voice as an author.
Abydos Robani
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DeVere
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Ardians
When Taryn had been a child, his mother had read him stories of knights of old. He had thrilled to those stories, clung to the ancient beliefs of chivalry and honour. DeVere, however, had been quite literally born in battle. Not for him the luxury of children's tales, no. DeVere was a product of a situation that could never have been engineered. He would always have been a part of Taryanderon Pallerion. It was simply that due to the unexpected intervention of the lich, Suraklin, DeVere had been forced into full being.

No mind can easily contain two separate entities, but DeVere was born instinctively knowing how to make the best of the situation. He knew how to keep his thoughts separate from Taryn's and how to make do with the fact he was forced to share the boy's body. It had been DeVere who had quietly loaned Taryn strength of will and force of personality at the times he needed it. It had been DeVere who had somehow mustered the strength to strike the lich with the bane weapon even when Taryn's intestines had been spilling from his gut. It had been DeVere who had, for the past seven years, been quite literally Taryn's conscience.

Not in all matters. Despite everything, the very last thing that he had wanted was to control. Besides, left to his own devices, Taryn could be great fun. The boy was blessed with a natural surfeit of charm that DeVere himself did not possess. He was a plain-speaking man. He was honest as the day was long and lacked a sense of guile - something that Taryn had in droves. But DeVere knew that he was, in effect, Taryn's polar opposite. Not least of all because Taryn had been born human, whilst he, DeVere, was semi-supernatural in his construction.

More, now. More he understood after the revelation of his heritage. He knew, now, that he was, in effect, Taryn's spark of divinity. If there could ever be found a way of becoming one with his brother spirit, something which DeVere had never heard of, then together they could become something truly to be reckoned with. On his own, Taryn was a good mage, an impressive wielder of flame. DeVere had twice the power the boy had, but had never allowed Taryn's quicksilver mind to access the knowledge he had. Too reckless, too impetuous, too unpredictable.

And now that knowledge may be lost forever.

DeVere sat in the twisted landscape of Taryn's distress, feeling his brother's pain and fear and inwardly raging at the fact he was unable to do anything to relieve the burden. He had woken from the restful sleep that Curin had gifted him to find himself trapped inside this nightmare world. It had terrified him at first: he had not been able to fathom exactly where he was. But there were tiny clues that he had linked together to make the realisation as to exactly where he was.

He had walked and stumbled for metaphorical days in the half-light of the agonised scenery, not truly knowing what it was that he was looking for, only that he had somehow been charged to find it. He knew that he needed to turn this horrible place into something else, yet lacked the knowledge and, as time passed, the confidence to know how.

That was, at least, until he found it.

"I hate metaphors," he had complained when he had come across the patch of greenery struggling to survive in the heat and steam of Taryn's twisted mind. A single shrub, lush and standing out like a rose in a patch of weeds was flowering amidst the inhospitable environment and DeVere knew it instinctively for what it was. It represented all that was left of Taryn's hope.

"I really hate metaphors," he repeated aloud as he set himself in for the long haul. This, then, had become his ultimate point of existence. This was the reason for his creation in the encounter with Suraklin seven years past. It was his job to tend to this representation of Taryn's hope, to encourage it to take root, to spread and grow and save his brother from ultimately falling into the pit of despair that threatened to swallow him.

"I have the potential to be one of the most powerful mages in Arda. I have the knowledge of a thousand years stored in my head. I commune with the Gods. I provide the lanky wonder with the means to destroy a lich and what happens? I become a bloody gardener in the flower garden from bloody Hell," he muttered.

And he had been here, tending the flowering shrub ever since. It could have been a few minutes, it may have been days. Time had no meaning here. But the unthinkable was happening. The shrub was dying. Taryn's hope was fading.

And with it, so was DeVere's.
Posted Image Posted Image
Name: DeVere Pallerion
Gender: Male
Race: Semi-human - DeVere is the divine spark of Taryn Pallerion, forged in the midst of great adversity and forced to exist only in potentia until the God of Nature, Curin, gifted him with independence.
Class: Mage
Alignment: Lawful Good, unlike Taryn who is ultimately neutral. Be glad that it was DeVere who was forged from the lich encounter and not Taryn's evil side. No, really. Be glad.
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 190lbs
Age: DeVere is technically only the same age as Taryn, 25 years old, but as part of his nature, appears in his late 30's.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Build: Well built without running to fat, DeVere cuts a fine figure of a man with less skinniness than his metaphorical 'brother'.
Element: Fire
Personality: DeVere retains much of Taryn's charm, but he is decidedly less innocent and very definitely much more cynical. This shows in his face which is almost always set in a semi-sneer of self-depracation. Beware DeVere, for his intellect is far greater than that of Taryn's - and Taryn is by no stretch of the imagination an idiot (although from his actions, you'd be hard pushed to believe it)

Skills: Diplomacy, Knowledge - Arcana, Ride
Feats: Lightning reflexes, Strong Soul


Recently Received:
Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image - Throstles Thistle Cloak
Liradan Equipment Set. Comes implicitly with Skills Breath Sense, and Ally to Beasts.
Posted Image - Forage; Posted Image - Master Forager; Posted Image - Hunt; Posted Image - Master Hunter; Posted Image - En Liradan Ongoludan
Level:
Two; -Just a few things you might have picked up, last time a root golem sneezed close enough for you to catch the scent of its breath
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Meldithond
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Ardians
Weaving and bumbling heavily through the air upon autumn-leaf wings the root golems' tiny obsidian-bead eyes blinked as he moved into a shaft of open light. He sneezed, rubbing at his long muzzle with long tactile whiskers, and took stock of this sudden change of scenery.
Alighting on the good green earth, Meldithond rooted his muzzle beneath the feathery mosses and plush grass, to get a sniff of the soil itself, and to nibble at the tender roots growing within: in this way he gathered an impression of the place. He was safe here; though it was a sad place, and a lonely place.
The towering back of a man reared up a small distance ahead of him; and Meldithond cantered, snuffling and burrowing his nose where-ever he caught a telling scent, his willful tail moving with a life of its own, his long whiskers testing and investigating. He caught the earliest rumour of the mans' breath while still a few steps away; and upon it the diminutive root-golem discerned many things. The emotion of despair kept barely in check by a kind of ana-catastrophic stubbornness. A kind of grim humour.
Meldithond trotted along the ground in front of the man, chasing the scent-trails of the mans' own breath as they spilled down from his mouth and nose, running in unseen braided-rivers along the grasses. At length he sat, catlike, licking his muzzle with a tiny black tongue, yawning with a sneeze, and a shake of his tiny head.
Cocking his head to the side Meldithond blinked, and stood, wagging his tail. He hopped up onto his back legs, and boxed his front paws in the air, and chased his tail; falling onto his back with another characteristic sneeze, rolling to show his warm little belly.
[align=center]
Name: Meldithond
Inventory
Clone1Clone2Clone3Clone4Clone5
Race: Symbiote-Shapeshifter; bonded with Root Golem.
Height: varies between 5-20cm
Build: Meldithond is shaped like a tiny cat, or a little grey-hound of roots. At will he is able to grow wings, like the helicopter seeds of sycamore, and can sustain flight a bit like a bumble-bee does -a little ponderous and heavy-seeming for such tiny wings.
Feats:
Weapons Mastery -Staves; Whirlwind Attack.
Familiars:
Root Golem. Including complete evolutions.
Skills:
Forage; Master Forager; Hunt; Master Hunter; Intuit Path; Master of Paths; Ally to Beasts.
Spells:
Summon Warrior; Summon Master Warrior; Clone Warrior; Superior Heal.
Other Magic:
Liradan Equipment set; Breath-Sense; Foresight; Fly; Telekenesis; Improved Telekenesis; Share-spells (Root-Golem); Blur.

Meet Meldithond
Learn Battle Root-Golem Style

Rp Sites that unlocked my Voice as an author.
Abydos Robani
[/align]
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DeVere
Member Avatar

Ardians
DeVere sensed the presence of another before the root-golem appeared in his line of sight and was already tensed and ready in case it was some dreadful being conjured out of Taryn's darkest thoughts. When the little animal-shaped root tangle appeared before him, however, the man could not help but smile slightly.

"Hello, my fine little fellow," he said, offering out a careful hand to the creature. "You are a strange thing to be found in this place, for sure - not that I'm not grateful for the company, you understand."

When the hand that he proffered to the golem wasn't snatched off and borne away as a light snack, DeVere, essentially a man of instincts, went with his gut feeling and reached down to scratch the little creature's belly with all the fond affection he would have done for a cat or small dog.

"But in truth, my gnarly little friend, you should not be here. I am doing what I can to hold back the ultimate cataclysm, but soon, this place will be a true hell and nothing will survive its horrors, not even one such as yourself." DeVere turned and studied the shrub, stared disconsolately at its wilting leaves and wasting branches and shook his head. "I have done all that I can do for this poor plant. The rest is up to him. If only he has the strength left to look deep into his soul and take comfort..."

DeVere shook his head of dark hair and sighed heavily, reaching down to scratch at the approximate location of the root-golem's ears. "At least I am no longer alone," he said, sounding oddly moved by the fact. "And for that, I am grateful. But where is it that you came from?"
Posted Image Posted Image
Name: DeVere Pallerion
Gender: Male
Race: Semi-human - DeVere is the divine spark of Taryn Pallerion, forged in the midst of great adversity and forced to exist only in potentia until the God of Nature, Curin, gifted him with independence.
Class: Mage
Alignment: Lawful Good, unlike Taryn who is ultimately neutral. Be glad that it was DeVere who was forged from the lich encounter and not Taryn's evil side. No, really. Be glad.
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 190lbs
Age: DeVere is technically only the same age as Taryn, 25 years old, but as part of his nature, appears in his late 30's.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Build: Well built without running to fat, DeVere cuts a fine figure of a man with less skinniness than his metaphorical 'brother'.
Element: Fire
Personality: DeVere retains much of Taryn's charm, but he is decidedly less innocent and very definitely much more cynical. This shows in his face which is almost always set in a semi-sneer of self-depracation. Beware DeVere, for his intellect is far greater than that of Taryn's - and Taryn is by no stretch of the imagination an idiot (although from his actions, you'd be hard pushed to believe it)

Skills: Diplomacy, Knowledge - Arcana, Ride
Feats: Lightning reflexes, Strong Soul


Recently Received:
Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image - Throstles Thistle Cloak
Liradan Equipment Set. Comes implicitly with Skills Breath Sense, and Ally to Beasts.
Posted Image - Forage; Posted Image - Master Forager; Posted Image - Hunt; Posted Image - Master Hunter; Posted Image - En Liradan Ongoludan
Level:
Two; -Just a few things you might have picked up, last time a root golem sneezed close enough for you to catch the scent of its breath
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Meldithond
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Ardians
"Hello, my fine little fellow," Said the darkling, and stern-faced man. "You are a strange thing to be found in this place, for sure - not that I'm not grateful for the company, you understand." Meldithond, true to his name, proffered his belly in the most-ancient tradition of friendship, whiskery root-tail wagging madly to express his cheerfulness. The weather-beaten hand reached gingerly down, hesitating -while a shadow of doubt passed across the mans' face. But Meldithond stuck his belly out, blinking and sneezing to how it was safe; and -though it was a subtle change- Meldithond sensed the trees shift. Some of the fire-furnace heat was eased. "But in truth, my gnarly little friend, you should not be here. I am doing what I can to hold back the ultimate cataclysm, but soon, this place will be a true hell and nothing will survive its horrors, not even one such as yourself." The dark and troubled eyes turned to a wilting bush, "I have done all that I can do for this poor plant. The rest is up to him. If only he has the strength left to look deep into his soul and take comfort... At least I am no longer alone," he added in a warming voice, the eyes alighting with gratitude for the small gift of Meldithonds mere presence, "And for that, I am grateful. But where is it that you came from?"
Meldithond trotted over to the bush, snuffling at the roots, and nibbling at one of the leaves, sitting up on his his hind legs so he could hold the it in his hand-like fore-limbs. He blinked and sneezed, shaking his hairy hackles, one thing was clear to Meldithond, which was clearly not to his companion.
His companion was under the impression that the shape of the valley had been created by someone from the outside, and that the withering tree related to someone else. The tiny root-golem snatched up another delicious leaf, and nibbled it thoughtfully. How could he explain to the handsome and haunted human, that the valley was given its shape by the man himself; and that the shrub was linked to his exact self, and no-one else? Glamrenindris did not work like that.
The darkness, and the withering of the plant was related to himself. If in his heart he thought he was trapped, and all hope was failing, thenthat it what he would find. But all he needed to do, to change that, was to have the Will to see it so; to have the strength to hope against "certain" doom.
It was not uncommon, that haunted souls who chanced upon Glamrenindris thought they had come to some form of punitive after-life; as all the darkness and hatred within them was embodied. Likewise, to some, Glamrenindris became a paradise.
[align=center]
Name: Meldithond
Inventory
Clone1Clone2Clone3Clone4Clone5
Race: Symbiote-Shapeshifter; bonded with Root Golem.
Height: varies between 5-20cm
Build: Meldithond is shaped like a tiny cat, or a little grey-hound of roots. At will he is able to grow wings, like the helicopter seeds of sycamore, and can sustain flight a bit like a bumble-bee does -a little ponderous and heavy-seeming for such tiny wings.
Feats:
Weapons Mastery -Staves; Whirlwind Attack.
Familiars:
Root Golem. Including complete evolutions.
Skills:
Forage; Master Forager; Hunt; Master Hunter; Intuit Path; Master of Paths; Ally to Beasts.
Spells:
Summon Warrior; Summon Master Warrior; Clone Warrior; Superior Heal.
Other Magic:
Liradan Equipment set; Breath-Sense; Foresight; Fly; Telekenesis; Improved Telekenesis; Share-spells (Root-Golem); Blur.

Meet Meldithond
Learn Battle Root-Golem Style

Rp Sites that unlocked my Voice as an author.
Abydos Robani
[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
DeVere
Member Avatar

Ardians
At first, DeVere considered stepping forward and stopping the little creature from nibbling on the tender leaves of the shrub, but he did not. Instead, he felt his heart lighten to see the root golem so obviously enjoying the fruits available to him in this terrible place. He tucked his legs up beneath him and sat down once again, although this time his head was no longer buried in his hands.

For some time, he merely contented himself with watching the creature, marvelling at the way it was put together, the way it was almost identifiable as an animal and yet not, the way it had mannerisms one could associate with small creatures everywhere and the way in which it was clearly enjoying the goodness that the shrub had to offer it.

Indeed, the longer he spent watching the little creature, the lighter his heart seemed to grow. The way in which it sneezed and practically burbled along was comical without being silly and he felt a rush of affection for his new companion.

He reached out a hand to draw the root golem nearer to him.

As he idly returned to scratching its belly, DeVere was startled to notice the tiniest of flowers poking through near the base of the shrub. He turned slightly and used his other hand to cup the flower in his other hand. Merely moving it released a scent so delicious that it put him in mind of warm, cinnamon-rich apple pie baked by Taryn's formidable Aunt Min. The scent also reminded him, strangely, of freshly mown grass, of the air after a thunderstorm, of the briny scent of sea air. All the things that were good and which brought great comfort filled his nostrils with their soothing scent, filled his heart with hope and filled his soul with determination.

He stood, understanding implicitly, and a huge smile touched his face, brightening his eyes and changing his expression entirely.

"Time to start working, my little friend," he said and pushed back the sleeves of the fine silk shirt that he wore. "Time to find a way to undo all this putrescence. Time to give Taryn his hope back."

Crouching, he leaned towards the little flower and blew, softly. Pollen danced from the open bud and circled lazily in a non-existent wind before settling on a new area, where a new shrub began almost immediately to bloom.

Almost childishly, DeVere clapped his hands in delight. "This," he said, scratching the root golem behind the ears, "is going to take a while. But I can do it."
Posted Image Posted Image
Name: DeVere Pallerion
Gender: Male
Race: Semi-human - DeVere is the divine spark of Taryn Pallerion, forged in the midst of great adversity and forced to exist only in potentia until the God of Nature, Curin, gifted him with independence.
Class: Mage
Alignment: Lawful Good, unlike Taryn who is ultimately neutral. Be glad that it was DeVere who was forged from the lich encounter and not Taryn's evil side. No, really. Be glad.
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 190lbs
Age: DeVere is technically only the same age as Taryn, 25 years old, but as part of his nature, appears in his late 30's.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Build: Well built without running to fat, DeVere cuts a fine figure of a man with less skinniness than his metaphorical 'brother'.
Element: Fire
Personality: DeVere retains much of Taryn's charm, but he is decidedly less innocent and very definitely much more cynical. This shows in his face which is almost always set in a semi-sneer of self-depracation. Beware DeVere, for his intellect is far greater than that of Taryn's - and Taryn is by no stretch of the imagination an idiot (although from his actions, you'd be hard pushed to believe it)

Skills: Diplomacy, Knowledge - Arcana, Ride
Feats: Lightning reflexes, Strong Soul


Recently Received:
Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image - Throstles Thistle Cloak
Liradan Equipment Set. Comes implicitly with Skills Breath Sense, and Ally to Beasts.
Posted Image - Forage; Posted Image - Master Forager; Posted Image - Hunt; Posted Image - Master Hunter; Posted Image - En Liradan Ongoludan
Level:
Two; -Just a few things you might have picked up, last time a root golem sneezed close enough for you to catch the scent of its breath
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Meldithond
Member Avatar

Ardians
Meldithond continued to nibble at the leaves, making certain to show his enjoyment and pleasure, watching the brooding and inflective man, whose chin rested against muscular fore-arms wrapped around his legs. Meldithond could perceive his companions gauging mood, measuring Meldithond up, wondering what manner of creature, or what his intentions might be. And well he should wonder; stranded in what appeared to be a living hell -out of which Meldithond had come buzzing on papery wings.
One thing was for certain, the mans' mood was lifting every moment he was in good company. If there was two kinds of company Meldithond -ancient as he was- had learned was extremely bad for the human-race: it was that of Elves, whose immortality and super-natural beauty spurred the humans to fool-hardy acts of theatrical heroics and nobility; and the other: their own company. Even the most deep-rooted human could only last so long in their own company before the began to wither. As far as Meldithond was concerned: it was just simply not in their make up.
So when the human reached out with a friendly hand, to draw Meldithond close, and stroke his belly, he was glad, and allowed it. Not only was it -clearly- therapeutic to the man, but it felt pretty good from Meldithonds' perspective as well. He luxuriated, letting his legs dangle and twitch in the air, breathing great sighs on relish.
Thusly, as the man simply enjoyed himself: he realised. The tree blossomed.
Through the breath-sense Meldithond was dimly aware of the childhood memories which the blossoms of the man soul-tree had blossomed; of scents which the man had collected in a life of long journeying and wayfaring.
And Meldithond could see that he'd realised what was going on. "Time to start working, my little friend," said he. "Time to find a way to undo all this putrescence. Time to give Taryn his hope back."
Curiously Meldithond wondered what the man would do with his realisation, but he hardly expected the man to crouch low enough as to blow the soul-tree pollen, so that where it blew, and came to rest, Glamrenindris shape-shifted so that another bush sprang to life. "This," said the darkling companion, scratching Meldithond mouth-wateringly behind the ear; "is going to take a while. But I can do it."
Meldithond took it upon himself to aid his companion; emplying his powers of warrior-summoning, so that in a moment, there were five exact living copies of himself; and each of these emplyed their own latent cloning, so that each of the Meldithonds, grew, stretching, so that for every one, there was now four, and twenty Meldithonds in total; all buzzing about industrially, fanning the pollen with papery wings, or rolling and rollicking in the flowers, and shaking their hackles madly, dashing headlong about the steadily enlarging island.
As the first trace of pollen was brush against the lava-trees, there was a tremendous burst of steam -not the sulphurous toxin, and with a sound as of the sea-breeze, the fire was quenched, and the razor-blade leaves fell like ice to the ground, melting in mid-air into a sweet-scented rain.
The tiny island spread and spread, good green replacing darkling coal, until exhausted, the veritable swarm of Meldithonds collapsed in a wriggling pile at the mans' feet, falling -but for one eye open each- into the wakeful sleep of root-golem.
[align=center]
Name: Meldithond
Inventory
Clone1Clone2Clone3Clone4Clone5
Race: Symbiote-Shapeshifter; bonded with Root Golem.
Height: varies between 5-20cm
Build: Meldithond is shaped like a tiny cat, or a little grey-hound of roots. At will he is able to grow wings, like the helicopter seeds of sycamore, and can sustain flight a bit like a bumble-bee does -a little ponderous and heavy-seeming for such tiny wings.
Feats:
Weapons Mastery -Staves; Whirlwind Attack.
Familiars:
Root Golem. Including complete evolutions.
Skills:
Forage; Master Forager; Hunt; Master Hunter; Intuit Path; Master of Paths; Ally to Beasts.
Spells:
Summon Warrior; Summon Master Warrior; Clone Warrior; Superior Heal.
Other Magic:
Liradan Equipment set; Breath-Sense; Foresight; Fly; Telekenesis; Improved Telekenesis; Share-spells (Root-Golem); Blur.

Meet Meldithond
Learn Battle Root-Golem Style

Rp Sites that unlocked my Voice as an author.
Abydos Robani
[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
DeVere
Member Avatar

Ardians
Like a child, DeVere clapped his hands together in delight when the little root golem duplicated himself until there were several of the creatures racing around aiding him in his chore of returning his other self's hope. By the time he had finally run out of energy, there was most definitely more than a single shrub on the blight of the landscape.

But the patch of greenery was not all holding. Some shrubs lasted barely seconds before the lava reclaimed them, swallowing the plants whole. Others, however, proved more tenacious. DeVere, however, was exhausted. Unused to physical exertion - when one is trapped as a consciousness for seven years, physical activity isn't something you're used to, after all - he felt aches in his muscles, in his head and worst, in his heart.

"I need to rest," he said, and settled back down on the ground. "Come, little one. Stay with me awhile and hear the tale I tell."

In a low, passionate and surprisingly gripping manner, DeVere related the story of his creation to the root golem, knowing not whether the creature understood any of what he was saying, but gaining a certain pleasure from spinning the yarn. When it was relayed in this manner, he realised that young Taryn Pallerion had led quite a remarkable life and he felt a new wave of appreciation for his less balanced self.

"And with the intervention of the lich lord, Suraklin, all the true good in Taryn shifted inexorably to me. Whilst I do not perceive myself as some kind of embodiment of purity, I am still all that is good and wholesome within the boy. Without me, his neutrality is under threat. Without me, chaos, evil and darkness will take him. I must find a way to return to him, whether as we were before...or side by side."

DeVere leaned back to the ground, his bones and heart weary.

"Alas, little fellow, I do not know how. I have the knowledge of many years locked up inside this head of mine, plus I have the gift of finally understanding my true heritage, thanks be to Curin. And yet I cannot fathom out the way to escape the bonds of this place and become one with the world beyond again."

He let out a deep sigh, which seemed to carry much of the stress from him into the air, where it was borne away on a zephyr of wind that danced and carried DeVere's sorrow far from the horrors of Taryn's mindscape. For the first time since he had woken here, DeVere felt at peace.

And he slept.

And he dreamed.

"Where are you, DeVere?"

The voice was Taryn's, but DeVere knew it could not be. Their link had been severed by circumstance and yet he could sense his other self reaching out for him, yearning for his comforting presence.

"I am right here, brother."

He knew, even as he spoke it, that Taryn could not hear him, that the near impenetrable barrier that had sprung up between them deflected all the hope that he was working so hard to bring back.

"DeVere, I need you."

"We need each other, Taryn. I will get to you."
He didn't know how, but he knew only that he must.

"I can't fight this back any longer. The power, DeVere. I never knew there could be such power..."

DeVere woke with a start, his heart racing. Taryn was giving in to his base desire - the one that drove so many mages to greatness - some to great evilness - but greatness, nonetheless. A lust for power.

"I have to get to him," he said aloud. "Taryn Pallerion must be stopped."
Posted Image Posted Image
Name: DeVere Pallerion
Gender: Male
Race: Semi-human - DeVere is the divine spark of Taryn Pallerion, forged in the midst of great adversity and forced to exist only in potentia until the God of Nature, Curin, gifted him with independence.
Class: Mage
Alignment: Lawful Good, unlike Taryn who is ultimately neutral. Be glad that it was DeVere who was forged from the lich encounter and not Taryn's evil side. No, really. Be glad.
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 190lbs
Age: DeVere is technically only the same age as Taryn, 25 years old, but as part of his nature, appears in his late 30's.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Build: Well built without running to fat, DeVere cuts a fine figure of a man with less skinniness than his metaphorical 'brother'.
Element: Fire
Personality: DeVere retains much of Taryn's charm, but he is decidedly less innocent and very definitely much more cynical. This shows in his face which is almost always set in a semi-sneer of self-depracation. Beware DeVere, for his intellect is far greater than that of Taryn's - and Taryn is by no stretch of the imagination an idiot (although from his actions, you'd be hard pushed to believe it)

Skills: Diplomacy, Knowledge - Arcana, Ride
Feats: Lightning reflexes, Strong Soul


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Liradan Equipment Set. Comes implicitly with Skills Breath Sense, and Ally to Beasts.
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Two; -Just a few things you might have picked up, last time a root golem sneezed close enough for you to catch the scent of its breath
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