Chapter 2 - Independent Learning

"That is a generous offer Tannis, this town would certainly benefit from your services. Make sure you don't put Ceta out of business though", he gives a small chuckle to himself. "As it happens I did have a favor in mind, when you feel your strength returned. It's a task requiring a man of learning, such as yourself. The farmers on the northern slopes of the valley have been complaining about a blight affecting the trees. I have this book here."

He lifts a dusty book from his desk.

"This book details a number of different tree blights and their various symptoms. It is simply a matter of travelling to the northern slopes and comparing the symptoms you see to those in the book. Once we know what we're dealing with we can devise a plan of action. I would go myself, but I seem perpetually buried in paperwork. You can borrow one of the guard's horses. Do you ride?"

"That's very good of you. I'm sure Angela would prepare you some provisions were you to ask. Take the north road from the town across the Soverbot. Follow the road, but before it goes through the gap in the hills turn to your left and head west. The woods are a couple of miles off the main road. There are plenty of tracks to follow. If you meet any of the farmers they'll be sure to show you."

"Don't stray too deeply into the woods. There are some druids that live there. They can be impolite if they think you a trespasser."

Leaving the keep, Tannis makes his way across the bailey. Elboth, one of the town guard that Tannis had met two days previous, is guarding the castle gate. He offers Tannis a nod of acknowledgement.

Tannis winds his way through the town's narrow streets till he find the main road heading north. The townsfolk watch him intently as he goes past. Reaching the banks for the Soverbot, Tannis crosses at the main bridge, a sturdy structure in stone, with three large arches. From the top of the bridge he enjoys the view north across the Soverbot valley. Ripe crops wave gently in the mid-morning breeze. Farmers are hard at work collecting the harvest.

As he looks out across the peaceful valley, Denaothun's words replay in his mind "I have told the people that you remained here when the Eastern Army returned to Newbore City to help defend the people in case of more trouble." The words "Eastern Army returned to Newbore City" echo again. There was no such return. Only death.

The sun glinting from behind a passing cloud brings Tannis's focus back to the present and the task at hand. He follows the road north, passing several carts laden with harvest headed out of the valley. The people he passes smile and look upon Tannis with curiosity, but none venture to start a conversation.

After a few miles, the road begins to ascend into the gentle hills that form the valley's northern border. A cart track to the left wends its way through fields towards a distant line of trees.

Tannis makes his way along the track as the sun approaching its autumnal zenith. Farmers to the left and right are busy with scythes and sickles, or loading produce into carts.

Before he reaches the tree-line Tannis is assaulted by the smell of decay. Moving closer, he sees leaves curled with browning edges, patches of bark that have dropped off leaving exposed wood. In a couple of places he sees a black ooze weeping from wounds in the wood; one area where bark has fallen reveals a mass of grey-green larvae feasting on the mulched wood.

Upon casting the spell Tannis sees a hazy outline of dark purple around the affected trees, denoting the presence of necromantic magic. The grey-green larvae appear almost pure purple in color, and the black ooze is strongly highlighted.

Walking through the trees, Tannis notices something else. The trees deeper in the woods are clad in a gentle green aura, suggesting abjuration magic, and appear untouched by the blight. Where these two auras meet Tannis sees a swirling battle of color.

As the magic ebbs, Tannis retrieves Denaothun's book from his bag. He reads the title:

The Afflictions of Plants, Second Edition, A Treatise On The Various Afflictions Of Plants With Details On The Symptoms Thereof And Remedies Thereto

Flicking through the pages, Tannis sees many references to curled and browning leaves, to bark shedding, to infestations of insects. But no mention of any affliction linked to magic.

"I doubt that book will help" comes a deep, rumbling voice from behind him.

Tannis sees before him a stooped old man clad in discolored white robes tied at the waist with a mottled leather belt. He is holding himself upright with a staff of gnarled wood. Despite the wrinkled appearance of his face, the man's light blue eyes shine with energy and his face seems poised to deliver a wry smile.

"Ah yes, it is good to be thorough. An admirable approach to life." the smile breaks across his face "Did Denaothun send you?"

"Tannis. Tannis. Good to meet you Tannis. I am glad that Denaothun sent you. It is not often that he takes an interest in the natural world."

He pauses.

"I saw you casting a spell. Presumably to discern the nature of this affliction? What is it that you saw?"

"I suggest you come this way as we talk, the air here is not good for the lungs."

The old man begins hobbling deeper into the wood.

"Necromancy, yes, yes. That's it. And abjuration you say." he mulls each word as if talking to himself, lost in his own thoughts "Fortifying the trees. And druids."

As the old man speaks Tannis passes the battle line of colors he had previously observed. The reek of decay disappears from the air, replaced by the damp clean air of a healthy wood.

"What more did Denaothun say of druids?"

"Trespassing, yes. That's probably the cause of all this", he stops walking.

"But it is not a matter of viewing favorably or not. The druids made and maintain the grove. The grove protects the woods. The woods protect the grove." he pauses.

"It is like when you are sick. The body takes to fever to burn away the sickness. And so the woods turn away those that might be deleterious to its health."

"Breathe the air here. You will see we benefit from the grove's protection, even this far away. That necromantic affliction is but skin deep. A rash that we must soothe with ointment, but not a deep wound."

"If I am right about its cause, a little honey might do the trick. And you might be the right person to deliver the remedy, were you to be so inclined" a wry smile spreads across his face.