This is yet another story based off of an ongoing D&D RPG. I am trying to write this on a page by page basis however... It is about the magical world of Bryl, and it's strange connection to our own world. Faries and imps wage war over the destined being who will change the face of their world.

The bright blue leaves of Humik and Wyrn trees littered the moist air of the Ladera Plane, swimming like schools of fish in windy seas — merely freckles upon the vast sky of violet and aquamarine streaks. Spurts of clouds rolled softly with the wind as the sun awoke to sweet birdsongs from the trees.

It was the middle of Autumn, when Raeku's forest changed its color from a deep scarlet to a silvery blue, and the heavy flapping of Mues wings echoed through the deep woods. Through a dense vibrant canopy, just above the forest floor, appeared a man's face — formed within the twisted orange bark of a Humik tree. The plain line of his mouth was wrinkled and frowned with age and his flat nose was wide between the deep holes which were his eyes - scanning his forest as he did every waking sun.

Raeku meant many things to the world of Bryl; the Catcher of rain, the Patriarch of breath, the Giver of fruit, but most of all Raeku was the Conscience of the Root. He was ancient in this world, and his fauna spoke of him in tale. Their wisdom was kept in the rings of his trees, and his essence lingered under the noses of them.

His children were of various nature, each using Raeku's gift to their beating heart's content. The buzzing insects of many, spawning from stale puddles and ponds. Creeping and winging through the thickets, boring holes through fruit and bark before being snatched up by the feathered beasts who roam the skies. Then there are Wollygrom primates, a furry species of beasts with a potential to be such awesome beings if not sanctioned by the Davinkind — The elite of Raeku's children.

They’re almost a mix of the other creatures, hominid in proportion and features but minute in size and strength. Their soft flesh wrapped by a spiral of green leaves tinged by the color of each Davinkind. Insect like wings flap between the blades of their shoulders guiding their petite bodies through the air. Though they are physically frail beings, they are blessed with the Gidru, the spirit of the Root.

The Davinkind are far from perfect however, a trait that comes with such power and intelligence. Their sense of free will is well above their counterparts, and set in their pride for the Gidru. Many of them are unable to keep justice with the ethereal spirit they possess, they are the Imps.

Using their gift for selfish benefits and short lived reward. Feeding a taste for greed and performing wicked antics on helpless creatures. These Imps dwell in deep stone crevice, far from the branches of the Root. Cloaked in shadow and hidden from the face of the sun, until the dark violet of the night sets them free.

The End

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