Role

Chapter 8

Surpised to see him again, the Greenhoof welcomed the Son of the Stone back
to the surface, and appraised him of the plans that had been set into motion.
There was to be a Ritual at the Scar, and with the rest of the Tree,
Bilgritik was invited to be present. Unsure of what this ritual would produce
and in the presence of the Reavers, Bilgritik wearily accepted.

The Full Moon stood firm in the west against the Rising Sun in the East in
the predawn of the Equinox. The gathered lent their life's force to Strienat
as he called upon their bodies and souls to power this to heal Thar Eris. The
Shackles, The Scroll, and The Seed were placed on the scourged land, to be
quickly consumed by it. The Winds howled in support of the gathering, lending
the Breath of Thar Eris herself.

And yet, the Spider cackled. 'Such little blood for such a strong ritual.'
Knowing his time was nigh and remembering the vision of Nordiach, the Dwarf
entered the center of the Circle. Not even a heart beat passed before being
beset by the Spider. Reacting, the Reavers entered the fray, and a few
Sentinels believing this was Thar Eris' will volleyed arrows at the stalwart
son of Nordiach.

In desperation, Bilgritik's friend from his first days upon the surface,
dashed through the melee to provide aid. Hurriedly, Gwildaththea scooped the
first healing herbs she could find and rushed to apply them in haste to the
beset dwarf. And yet, as the herbs contacted his open wounds, it was not
healing that happened, rather it was the fatal blow to the Dwarf.

His ghost rising from his fallen body, the wisdom of Thar Eris hit him.
Chaos, as the Greenhoof had spoken. The meaning of Chaos in Life and Creation
rung true in his mind, body, and soul.