330 CHPT 330: Druidic Shroud...

After the shocking series of realizations in the river, the rest of the day and it's warming winter sunlight flew by in a flash, bringing the biting cold of night along with it just as fast.

Ursula tried to push and pull answers from him about why his general mood had darkened to no avail. He found it was easier to lead them from the topic by talking about her instead. She had more than enough on her plate and needed help sorting out what it means to no longer be human. She was already doing incredibly well, but even so, he could feel her anxiety and fear as clear as sunlight. It hurt, but he understood.

It would always hurt. That was part of the curse in his eyes. A part he would've never foreseen a mere two months ago. And a thought that now rested at the back of his mind as he emerged from the forest and approached his slowly growing Ancient Oak that stood beside Rollan's home where it rested in the light of the moon.

At it's base, Rollan sat on his knees, as if in prayer, practically blending in with the dark bark. Claude sped up his pace until he came to a stop beside him and took a seat, taking a quick glance at the folded cloth in his hands.

"Welcome, Monsieur."

"..Hey." Claude replied with a sigh before raising his glowing green hand to the tree.

Slap!

Rollan slapped his hand before he could connect with the bark.

"Ow-- Why?"

Rollan turned and looked at him as if he just ate a cat, "You think I want you tending to an oak of the ancients with all of those depressive mannerisms, hm? Puff out your chest, Monsieur la bete. No good leader wears his trauma on his sleeves, no? You must present with what it is that you desire...hm..Oui....I like how that sounds."

"How the hell do you know so much?" He growled to himself while he rubbed his hand.

Rollan shrugged, "In terms of the world, I know very little. Mais, the little I do know includes you....your kind...and all of it's magical mysteries."

The beads of sweat trailing Claude's back ran cold as ice, ".....What?"

"Despite you and the young woman's....tight lipped nature, I know things, no? We Druids are men and women of travel and discovery...just as much as we are eradicators of the unnatural and developers of philosophy."

Claude couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not-- he didn't sound mindlessly drunk or violently sober. He sounded...calm. "How...."

"I traveled with varying groups of Nomadic peoples to get where I am today....so that I could flee the mess Lilith and her Vampiric Collector, Fiara, left of the family I once knew..in my travels there was a set of stories that always held a similar center focus, no? Men and Women-- beasts...with intelligent minds..cunning eyes...grand pouvoir. They'd come to these Nomads in the dark of night....offer to take their dying and broken....only for these peoples to one day see them again...only different....reborn in many ways, Monsieur. Just like your friend, hm?"

Claude stayed silent, he immediately understood Rollan wasn't lying as he retold his understandings of the old stories he heard in his own french/english flair. He knew he wasn't lying, because he was mouthing Arne's almost exact stories.

"I must ask, Monsieur. The stories ended long ago....what happened to you all, hm?"

Frosty whined behind him.

"They died. And now I'm here....with a target on my head as big as a pile of Orc shit." Claude said angrily.

Rollan laughed quietly before going into a state of calm intensity once more, "Big responsibilities.....they make or break even the greatest, hm? What do you plan to do with yours, Monsieur?"

"Right a wrong." He said without an ounce of hesitation.

Rollan sighed, "Ahhh vengeance. That's a very....icky business."

"Yea. And they're very icky beings."

"Ce la vie..." Rollan muttered.

"What?" Claude questioned.

"Nothing, Monsieur. As long as you keep pushing....don't let them see you crack." He pointed at Claude's head, referencing to his breakdown only days ago. "Don't let her see it. You have more responsibility....you have obligation. It seems you are no longer a sole survivor, no? let's keep it that way."

Claude suddenly understood. "So this is why you asked to speak to me?"

Rollan nodded, "I did not care for her just to have you take her out into the city to get you both ripped to shreds due to your own lack of preparation and naivety. No, No. If you do this, we need to split it up correctly and be careful."

Claude didn't feel the urge to physically smile, but inside it came naturally. It was nice to see....nice to discover. Just as this all was important to him, so to was it to Rollan. The man who lived in the forests as a lonely demon-slaying drunk. Now given people to teach and protect. It was just as important for him. New purpose. And Ursula needed people, Giant-Killer or not, people helped.

The thought faded, "I know people. I know backstabbers....and I know how cities transform when night falls. I'll stay alert, we'll be safe....well as safe as NightRunners can be."

Rollan shook his head, "No, Monsieur. You can know all the cities in the world. Very few are like FeliAlu City. It's much more active at night....and watch out for the cats."

The final statement was so out of left field it caught him off-guard, "The what?"

"Watch for them." He said again, deadly serious before adding, "Anyway, this is the other reason. I may not have adequate armor and weaponry for you both. But I do have an old gift. You've grown in Wood-Weaving. Your learning the Druidic Arts at an honorable pace. Your Ancient Oak is strong....it's bark is as black as night with leaves that glow like they're under the sun. You are still in the beginning stages of Druidry, but you are much further along then when you started. And for that, you have earned this." He said, handing Claude the bundle of folded cloth.

When it landed in his hands, it felt heavy. Not normal cloth by any means. It was thick-- almost stiff, yet it retained a natural airy flow-- like a blanket. He ran his fingers over the shiny and sleek black surface. It was lined with small deep interlocking grooves...almost like stitched and interwoven with a myriad of other materials. He could feel them...some soft...some hard and oily. On top of all this, he could feel an odd sense of....connection?

He took in a deep inhale, the object smelled of fur...hair...grass..leathers and magic.

"What is this?" He asked.

Rollan sat up straighter, looking almost proud, "It is a Druid's Cloak. Unfold it, Monsieur."

"Ok." Claude mumured before beginning to unfold the large dark cloak. It fell over his lap like a blanket of expertly crafted shining shadows. He lifted the cloak, trying to hold it up to inspect the object properly. As soon as he did, the clasp where it fastened over one's neck jangled in front of him like a copper necklace engraved with the Druidic tree of life.

His eyes didn't linger on the ornament for long as the vibrant and beautifully powerful green interior of the cloak stood out in the night facing him, lining the entirety of it, including the deep hood. At the cloak's center, the triskelion etched into the verdant fabric held a gold lacing that reflected the moonlight with an almost magical glow.

"This is....beautiful."

Rollan nodded proudly, "And purposeful. It's no normal cloak, Monsieur. It's fabric is interwoven with grass...sacred woods....bark....human hair and animal furs....even animal hides for warmth. It's meant to blend with your Nature Magic. Feed from it and many others...."

"Why human hair?" Claude asked with an almost grossed out expression.

"It is believed to be a better conductor of Magic than normal materials. it is the humans that hold the many magics of Rebirth, no?"

Claude was ready to ask about the animal furs when his mind found the answer part way through, "Holy shit.....the animal furs...they don't know they've made a cloak that can hold Wild Magic.....???"

"[That is very possible...and brilliant.]" Arne said with matching astonishment.

"Your power is it's own, just like it's power is your own." Rollan said before placing his glowing hand to the green interior of the cloak.

FWSH!

The cloak fluttered as if hit by a gust of wind and flashed brighter followed by a sound of ripping. Rollan turned the cloak over so he faced the black exterior, where a wooden spike laced with thick green foliage exploded from the surface as if it simply grew from the fabric.

Rollan broke off the spike to show the fabric no worse for wear aside from a small tuft of fuzz where the wood grew from.

"See...your power." Rollan repeated.

"And...it's power...?" Claude asked.

"It naturally stores energy...it repairs in sunlight and water. Heals rips and tears at the touch of fire and lightning, has the ability to burn the Undead and Unnatural and can save you in dire moments. But you have not unlocked that portion of Druidic power just yet.....for now, it'll be an added bit of defense and offense. But don't overuse it, Monsieur. It has it's limits in combat. Other than that, it is yours..."

Claude stood up, Rollan followed, handing him a combat belt lined with stiff pouches and two weapon sheaths.

"For your short-spears, hm? And the pouches hold seeds and salves. Just in case."

Claude suddenly felt like his birthday came early in an odd way, "Rollan....thanks. I owe you."

Rollan shook his head, "Don't thank me. Ursula found them while I had her retrieve some salves. And pay me back by keeping your sanity, hm? My home still needs protecting, and you have a big day tommorow, yes? Get some sleep....no matter how much you hate it. We'll talk more in the morning."

With that Rollan slapped him on the shoulder with his stiff branch-like fingers and headed back into his home walking in his odd gait with his sword/cane.

Claude thought one thing as he corrected Rollan's statement and folded up the magical cloak.

"A big night.....we have a big night tomorrow."