09-28-2025, 01:11 AM
Abrus has been haunting the Chamber for some time now, lingering with the other shadows. Having a handful of different forests to choose from in Beqanna is enriching for him and his magic has long since recovered from when he teleported into this world by accident. Time doesn’t pass for him the way he imagines it does for the others — not just like a single tree but like the entire woods. A constant cycle of life and death in overlapping chaos and repetition.
Something besides the antlered stallion has stirred within the forest the last few days and he now follows the call of… well, whoever. He picks his way forward slowly, carefully, choosing as he often does to make his first impression as a blind old man. His raven companion is perched quietly in his branching antlers, her dark eyes keen and taking in the scene. All it would take is a touch of magic to share her sight and see these strangers for himself but he’s not sure it’s worth the effort just yet.
(probably for the best, as it would seem the new queen and the forest magician have worn the same clothes to the party - their ravens)
Ideally he would haunt the back of a crowd and avoid notice so he could observe but the numbers are small enough that it is incredibly obvious when he arrives.
A queen is it? He had thought he had left all that behind, had seen no sign of the history she suggests in her speech as having any power over the present. Well, minus these two - a general and a queen from times gone past, potentially hoping to relive those days.
None of it means much to Abrus, aside from the likely fact that his days will be disrupted more. There’s no historical or emotional attachment to this place for him but he does like the trees.
Abrus surprises both himself and his companion by speaking up and asking the only question on his mind, the one bit of information that was missing. “Do you have a name, queen?”
Something besides the antlered stallion has stirred within the forest the last few days and he now follows the call of… well, whoever. He picks his way forward slowly, carefully, choosing as he often does to make his first impression as a blind old man. His raven companion is perched quietly in his branching antlers, her dark eyes keen and taking in the scene. All it would take is a touch of magic to share her sight and see these strangers for himself but he’s not sure it’s worth the effort just yet.
(probably for the best, as it would seem the new queen and the forest magician have worn the same clothes to the party - their ravens)
Ideally he would haunt the back of a crowd and avoid notice so he could observe but the numbers are small enough that it is incredibly obvious when he arrives.
A queen is it? He had thought he had left all that behind, had seen no sign of the history she suggests in her speech as having any power over the present. Well, minus these two - a general and a queen from times gone past, potentially hoping to relive those days.
None of it means much to Abrus, aside from the likely fact that his days will be disrupted more. There’s no historical or emotional attachment to this place for him but he does like the trees.
Abrus surprises both himself and his companion by speaking up and asking the only question on his mind, the one bit of information that was missing. “Do you have a name, queen?”