razed to ash and bone

NEPHELE

Her serenity and calm has been shattered. As the dragon had swooped towards her she had been ready to embrace the void of the beyond, ready to meet her sister and shed the agony of her world being destroyed and overtaken with nothing to stop them. Now, thrust bodily away from the land of dragons, infuriatingly alive, she is left with nothing but her rage.

Rage at the Ascended. Rage at her sister leaving her. Rage at the Gods for not striking down The Voice.

Nephele is a scientific woman, a creature of nature, and though not particularly devout she respects the Gods and all they do. None of that can withstand the force of her anger as her wings carry her swifter than they ever have, spine aching with the speeds she forces upon herself, crashing carelessly through the snowy boughs concealing the shrine from above. Landing on nimble feet she gives a wordless scream of frustration, tugging on her wind-knotted red hair. "TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" she howls and rages, her calm veneer shattered beneath the weight of her failed attempt to reach Mort. Why live when their tree-mother is destroyed? When the Ascended continue to raze the earth? When the Fae shrink back away from the light, even more concealed than before?

you don't see us, and so we are everywhere

and we will rise up

as red as the dawn

_{Table Code by Sky!}

”Why?” The voice belongs to something drifting and only half there - rags fluttering in the naked branches, a mask that might be peeped at between The tree trunks. Ludo is everywhere and nowhere all at once, surrounding Nephele, drawing a ring around her rage. ”Why ought we tell you? That you might do as you are bid, and rage more if it does not go to plan? Or so that you can praise us when you are victorious, for work you did yourself?” Ludo sounds curious, nothing more and nothing less. ”Your life and your actions are yours and yours alone. Why ask for someone else to make the difficult decisions for you?” LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

NEPHELE

For her first time meeting a God, Nephele is not the appreciative type. Though Ludo's words ring true and typical for something Nephele herself might say, she is beyond such platitudes and philosophical inquiries. She whirls in an agitated circle like a caged lion, wings aflutter and face contorted.

"Because your plans have failed!" she snaps. "The Voice has escaped, her monsters have pillaged our forest and killed our Máthair, and she stands now as a portal for any disgusting creature to walk through! My people suffer because your war lost," she spits through heaving breaths, red hair a tangled, fiery tornado upon her crown, "so tell me whether I shall wage one in your place!"

She is being disrespectful, accusatory. But what does she have to lose? It could curse her, true. But the dagger in her hilt is more than capable of drawing across her own neck. It could kill her, but then her suffering will be over. Even if her tongue were capable of lying sweetly to the God like a human's, she would not do it in this moment. "My people are scattered. You have more knowledge of this pretender than any, so yes, I bid you to tell me what to do. To tell me how to destroy them, or how to recover my home, I do not care." Her voice is thick with vitriol and hatred, hazel eyes afire with the deepest kind of hatred for the Ascended and their puppeteer. If she is to have any purpose left in this world, if the Fates had rejected her attempt with the dragons, then perhaps this is it. Perhaps her story is not over.

you don't see us, and so we are everywhere

and we will rise up

as red as the dawn

_{Table Code by Sky!}

Ludo seems to quiver in the trees at her accusations, seems to swell and grow in the face of Nephele's vitriol, against her anger and her hate. She might notice this, how the spaces between the trees blot out, a void in the forest, and the god stares down at her from above. "At last," Ludo whispers, and it seems to seep down through the branches towards her, wisps of raggedy promise, of finally, of where have you been. "Do you speak true, sweetling?" it asks, wending its way about her, still too large and too all-encompassing to get a good feel for, a good hold on. "When your rage is spent and your nights are long and lonely. When you are old and you have a family, when your children laugh and the trees blossom sweetly, will you still hate the Ascended? Will you still wage your war?" How deep, it asks, does it go? LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

NEPHELE

The all-encompassing darkness speaks of rage, but the voice that follows is anything but. Nephele lifts her face to the blotted out sky, fearless and feral, watching the unearthly descent of the God down towards where she stands rooted to the earth. Immovable even in the face of this.

"Until there is vengeance, there will be no peace in my heart for family, no appreciation for what the Greatwood gives when it has already been violated by their presence," she snarls, but this time she can somehow sense that Ludo is not barring her. That perhaps there is kinship in those fathomless spaces between fabric. "We were given long lives in order to remember, and I will not forget. The Voice has stood uncontested, and I cannot slay a goddess, but a war against her spawn I can vow." Fists clenching at her sides. "Now or any day in this vague future you cite."

you don't see us, and so we are everywhere

and we will rise up

as red as the dawn

_{Table Code by Sky!}

There is a stillness in those woods, like the silence after someone's final breath, like the spaces between words. But Nephele speaks, fierce and truthful, and she will sense it, though the god's masked visage never changes, that Ludo is smiling. "Promise me that you will not forget," it hisses, swirling about her now in a mottled whirwind of black rags and porcelain faces. "Promise me that this vengeance does not bow to complacency, and I will help you achieve your wishes. I will tell you what to do." LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

NEPHELE

Everything hangs in purgatory after her declaration, time seemingly meaningless as she awaits the deity's decision. But she can feel the satisfaction that crawls through Ludo's spirit, even as the pale caricature remains unchanged. Her own heart leaps in fierce dedication, vindication singing like the Whispershore's haunting song in her veins.

"I will not forget," she vows solemnly, and though Nephele is not the type to kneel she opens her palms and spreads her arms, embracing and accepting this path Ludo intends to open to her. The dizzying array of expressionless faces is like a whirlwind, and she is ready to be swept up into it. "I am your weapon, Ludo. Guide me, let me avenge my people, these woods. Whatever you bid, I will do, so long as I can reach for that goal." Fire blazes in flaxen eyes, unholy and warlike. Does it sense that she has nothing left to lose? That she has no reason to hold back, to withdraw? If Ludo will advise her, she will pursue the demise of the Ascended until she is struck down and forced into Mort's arms. Hopefully having earned her place there among her people as a warrior. Something she had never been born for, but Nephele will mold herself into such a figure if it means victory.

you don't see us, and so we are everywhere

and we will rise up

as red as the dawn

_{Table Code by Sky!}

I will not forget. Nephele speaks and the Greatwood listens. She speaks and Ludo hears. And it rushes at her, around her, until all she can see is dark fabric and the spidery branches of the trees beyond it. Her arms are outstretched, palms open, ready to receive the gifts of the gods. And receive she will. A weight drapes about her shoulders, steel fills her hands, and as Ludo leaves her to surge upwards once more, she will feel revitalised in every sense of the word. "These woods will be without a leader before the next full moon. When Delah perishes, the Greatwood will be left in more turmoil than ever before," Ludo explains. "But there is another who might yet take her place - Alina. Seek her out, and be by her side as the woods rise again, before any others might lay claim to it." Nephele has received the following: Lasracha | A pair of chakrams. The outer rim of these throwing discs are sharpened to a razor's edge, and glint with a curious crimson. Imbued with fire, they burn as well as they cut. Ludo's Rags | A shawl made of pitch dark, lightweight material. The wearer will not feel cold or the effects of the cold, regardless of the temperature. You look spooky. LUDO Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own

NEPHELE

There is only anticipation as Ludo sweeps down upon her like an archangel, a falcon diving to capture her in its claws, and she eagerly anticipates the heights it can take her to. Her hatred and her writhing, red-hot desire for vengeance swirling like a storm trapped in a teapot, ready to crack the porcelain veneer of her beauty to reveal all the cruelty she is capable of on the inside.

Ludo must see through that external facade, for steel fills her hands, and rags descend upon her shoulders as the darkness encompasses her. Chasing away any vestiges of cold she may have felt beyond the flickering heat of her animosity. And when Ludo speaks, Nephele listens in return. Committing every command to heart, every order to memory. The news of Delah's impending demise makes her stomach twist with a buzz of indiscernible emotion, but clearly there is nothing she can do. Alina is her new goal, and the Fae opens her eyes, burning copper staring up at the mask Ludo wears, and grins.

"Consider it done."

you don't see us, and so we are everywhere

and we will rise up

as red as the dawn

_{Table Code by Sky!}