The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

It was the spring equinox and Ashe had been collecting herbs under the full moon. She started back to the glade in the in between hour as the world paused to take a breath between night and dawn, cool dew caressing the soles of her feet. This was her favourite time of the day, when everything was fresh and still and one could hear the trees whispering to each other. The Druidess did not have far to go when, turning a corner in the path, she came across a stranger laying slumped against the trunk of an oak. The young woman turned to view the path back from whence she had come and peered squinting in the half light into the forest, yet it appeared that he was alone. Visitors to this part of the woods were rare, although she had occasionally had to chase off the odd hunter who had thought to gather wolf pelts or lumberjacks who had been eying her trees. Eying the size of this one, she concluded if it were a lumberjack, ‘twas grossly undersized. Intending to shake the stranger awake and move him on his way, she approached and reached out to shake his shoulder lightly. The heat struck her hand though it was yet inches away and she hesitated a moment before rolling him over gently to gasp for the front of his tunic was soaked with blood and gore and as his cloak fell away it revealed a deep slash from shoulder to wrist running almost parallels to the strange tattoos lining his forearms. A groan wrung itself from the strangers lips and she hastily reached for her water bottle, pouring a dribble over his lips. Piercing blue eyes fluttered open and the strangers good hand scrabbled at the ground as though he intended to stand or ward her off and she laid a gentle hand against the shoulder. “Hold, friend” she said softly “I mean ye no harm.” His eyes rolled back into his head and he was no longer conscious. Businesslike she set about removing his cloak and cut away the tunic, seeking other injuries. His breeches, she let remain though she ran her hands swiftly down his legs. She sat back on her heels a moment, considering and setting a tally of injuries in her mind. 3 broken ribs, a gash to the right arm, fever and, something tugged at her mind and she ran a gentle hand down his right leg again to hover the knee, yes, definitely damage to the knee. Arel and Willow bark tea would take care of the fever; that at least could wait until she got him back to the glade. The rest of his injuries required attention now however. Reaching down into the scrip at her waist she pulled a tiny sickle, replicated in exact detail and muttered an apology to Gaia for using the tool in such a manner, she neatly cut his breeches away at the right knee. Swollen and distended, angry lines of red ran down his calf and she shook head muttering to herself as gentle fingers prodded at the swollen flesh. Aaah she sighed as her fingertips discovered something foreign and swiftly sliced a neat incision. Grimacing as a wave of fetid fluid oozed out to run down his knee and soak onto the ground, she gently massaged the knee, seeking to drain all she could. It was not until his flesh somewhat resembled a knee once again rather than a small melon, that a dark foreign form became visible and grasping it between fingertips she gently extracted it to hold it up and examine. Nodding to herself, she placed it to one side and moved forward to sit down cross legged, her back against the oak, as she eased his head onto her lap. Brushing away the sounds of the waking forest she reached out to the oak, allowing her consciousness to meld with its. The peace of the great tree washed over here, the sound of its pulsing along the strong limbs beating in her ears. She waited a moment more until her breath had synchronised with the pulse of the tree before pulling the strength of the tree into herself and through her, into the stranger, allowing the flows to wrap around and embrace him settling onto and into his skin. He twisted and moaned and she held his head motionless gently restraining him as his ribs began to move back into alignment. A sigh emanated from the tree and a single limb cracked off to land on the ground beside her as the last rib slipped into its rightful place. She allowed the spell a moment to rest upon the limbs a moment more before moving her gaze to his arm. Her brow furrowed as her concentration deepened and leaving a hand resting against his cheek to maintain the contact between her patient and the oak, her other hand rises to hover over the wound. Reaching deep within herself she sent a silent request to Gaia for aid as she cast her healing spell intertwining it with the energy of the trees. Slowly, her hand began to emit a green glow which spread from her palm like a fine mist intermingled with fine motes of silver that danced amongst the mist like fireflies. Sweat beaded her brow and she pulled deeper from the trees until its pulse roared in her ears, as she wove the spell to settle around his arm and through the wound. Agonizingly slow, the gash began to knit itself together, pushing out clots of leaves and mud, torn cloth and foul humours until the arm was whole once more and all that remained of the wound was a thin raised pink line. Her head swam and she slumped against the solid trunk as she dissipated the spell and let herself sink into the trees embrace, breathing in the aromas of the earth. The temptation to lose herself in the song of the sap, wandering the paths of the strong roots and the dance of the leaves was strong, weakened as she was, almost too strong to resist but the stranger moved, his hair tugging at her fingers and she came back to herself. Once again, blue eyes looked up at her, though yet feverish, clearer than they had been “How do you feel” she asked wearily and he blinks at her for a moment before asking “Am I dead? Are you my angel?” Ashe shakes her head “Nay Sir, I be no angel and ye yet live. Although had I not found the devils thorn in your knee it may well have been another story. Do ye feel well enough to walk?” The stranger moved experimentally before nodding and rolling onto his left side to stand gingerly. Ashe pulled herself up, using the oaks trunk to brace herself and reaching down, picked up the limb which had fallen earlier. She swayed on her feet, clinging to the limb which she found to be the exact length of herself and the stranger eyed her in concern. “Be you well angel?” Drawing a deep breath she nods “Merely drained, your wounds were not minor and they took a great effort to heal. Ye have fever yet, I would ask ye to accompany me back to my abode that I may tend it until it clears. “ The stranger’s knee took a month to recover from its injury, requiring draining several times as his body fought the lingering infection and though she introduced herself, he still tended to name her his angel and eventually she gave up trying to convince him to use her name. She herself was weakened by the casting she had undertaken and she found that she was no longer able to cast as she once had, her connection to the forest weakened. Jayce, as she had discovered him to be named, suggested she accompany him to Tir Magnus and consult with the Lore Keepers there and she agreed, strangely reluctant to see him part. The month was spent preparing a collection of herbs to take with her, and the repairing of his clothes which she had damaged in order to tend his wounds. In quiet nights spent before the fire, she worked on the tree limb, whittling away bark and slight knots in its length. At the last she inscribed runes of the forest, carving them painstakingly into the flesh of the staff and binding them carefully. Together they set out and together they approached a temple of Gaia and were married under the light of the full moon, before continuing on to Tir Magnus.