Tír Na NÓg

[*Krayt]

What had seemed as a narrow depression now broadned wide around the phantasmal blue crystaline tree. It's amply leafed boughs streached out near the forrowed but sleek rock cauldron which they descended. The dancing light under it's swaying foilage made an even stronger illusion of being underneat the waves of a still lake as they climbed down. The namer clung tightly to Emila's back clutching her belt to not accidently be dropped would something jump at them. A peaceful lull reigned or at the least the impression thereof only disturbed by a few droplets falling from the froozen earthwork above and their own movements that died out in a hollow eco. Looking down it now seemed deeper, roughly 60 feet. Mid way during their descent a faint sweet twanging greeted their ears. It grew stronger as they drew nearer the bottom and a tuneful fair voice accompanied it.

Mashano arrives at the base of the tree. Before his is fully materialized he can hear the strumming of a harp. His feet land on solid ground but it is soft mat of moss over it. Looking up he sees the branches of the tree that now seem enormous span over the circular opening aboive him. The roots dig into a smaller hill before him, high silvery white grass grew on it swaying just as the tree as if moved by a breeze yet none can be felt there is just the tranquility of unstirred air. There admist the sheening sward he spots a tiny figure laying on his back with his ankles crossed and a golden harp resting upon his cheast. His nimble small fingers moving over the strings effortless as a fish that swims unhindered up a rappid stream. Glass-like varigated wings protruded from his back. His head was Close to the massive roots and he seemed quite unbothered by the intruder looking up the bole.He was singing calmly


Four stars adrift the oversea
dour who came for undertree
deplore I the middling wee
sore to vile cruilty foresee

Chore implore 'pon leigh in lee
more wroughters dreaded dree
yours be the lending of me knee
for gleen o' his tree this wee nay flee.

Four starts adrift.

They reunited at the base when he had finished his song.

[*Mander]

Catching his breath, Mashano nods and moves to the edge of the pit to watch her descend.


"Who or whatever created this little sanctum isn't without some ability in the Craft. I'd wager there's a backup exit or two down here...let's just hope we find this Caillfessa before he flees through one, as he doesn't seem to want company."


Not wanting to risk a climb on his thin arms, the red wizard makes the hard choice to use his only prepared dimension door to gate to the bottom of the chamber.

[*Mander]

"Er, a lovely performance. Would you happen to know where we can find a firbolg going by the name Caillfessa?" Mashano is suprised by the strange little being's calm demeanour, but he stays alert. Bardic magic was an inferior offshoot of the true Craft in his opinion, but it could have strange effects on the mind....if this fellow was even a bard.

[*Krayt]

His fingers didn't cease to strum the strings nor did he lift his from the sod. It was a compact harp with nine strings. Three gold, three silvery and three copper red flashing brightly when his fingertips moved over them.

Before Rofhessa now no more,
afore sure his poor wane lore.
swore Caillfhessa not store,
abhor ye four at me door.
Your to splurge with our gore.

He sat up barely reaching to the middle of the long silvery grass.Looking between them with a mischievous smile slumping over his harp.

"Welcome to my hostel travellers. Caillfhessa is one of my wards, what do you want with him? I need a guarantee from you that he won't be hurt" His telling looks hinted that he had an ominous premonition of what their coming would result in.

[*Mander]

"Oh, we have no intention of doing him any harm. We just need his help getting to a certain island, one I believe he once lived on?" He notes the sequence of threes in the harp with bemusement, the number always popping up when least expected.

[*Midnight]

Emila who until recently would have considered the small creature little more than a meal or something to torment for her own casual amusement has recently learned the folly of underestimating such things.

"Very well. He will not be harmed by us."

[*Selebius]

Xar crosses her arms in front of her chest, staying silent a bit- untouched by the song. Perhaps music is a concept alien to her or perhaps she just thinks it not useful.

Then she shrugs (perhaps hr way to agree), staying in the background, studying the unexpected scene.

[*Krayt]

They herad a hollow thud from the rock behind them. Growing stronger cracks started to appeak in the sleek granite wall. Pebbles started to roll down which soon turned to largers slabs of rock.

The pixie sighed wearily and worried putting his forehead in his palm while his upper ar remained on the golden harp. The other hand plucked the strings in a disharmonious melody going faster as the banging sounds from the rock intensified.

"The Island that cannot be named. More precise that it rejected all it's names. Not hard. The Firblog of the wasted knowledge will know." Said the fairy.

The cracks joined together and in a shower of jagged pieces of stone it burst open. Within the stood the silhouette of a towering man. Thunderously booming he spoke. "Stop Aleflea. It is useless. They shall have my body as was promised. The great queen will feed on what is left of my inner essence."

With a huge sword in his hand he crawled out of his hiding place. Standing in the light of yon tree they could seee his features clearly. Ruddy long braided ordained hair in nine tresses with a copper ball at the ends. Barechested his pinkish skin was covered with many blue tattoos, the symbol the vines had form was the most common but at the center of his ribcage he carried a burnt brand of three birds flying in a circle.

[*Selebius]

"Rejected names.. if it.... "

Xar watches mesmerized, thinks, the Pixie almost forgotten but her fascination is broken as she sees the arriving creature's weapon.

True to her word... err.. shrug... she did not get hostile but she is far from letting her guard down.

[*Krayt]

The large sword glimmers coldly in the moon like light. It is a exquisite sword made by profund crafmanship. Strong is the hand that grips it. The crystaline long transparant double-edged blade was clear as glass at the edges while it was opaque blue-white at the fuller. It swerved strangly in the light as if composed by water. Only faintly it bore the residue of a multitude of colours like a petrified bleached rainbow turned liquid and faded.

His icy blue eyes sets on the dustmen. "Came for my remains? Life in this one have lasted longer than expected. I am not sorry to put disappointment on you!" He bellowed with laughter.

"Not the reason. They want to travel to a nameless isle. Namely your nameless isle." The little creature corrected.

"It was never mine!" Said the giant.

The fairy-like creature looked to the group with the same michievous grin it had before. "Story for story! You begin"