Next batch of Mantic fluff

Caelor, Lord of Enderthal Woods paced up and down, continually glancing back towards where the huge rotting wooden lumps the goblins had affectionately dubbed “boats” floated like dead, bloated whales just off the shore. He was nervous, not a feeling he was used to. He glanced over his shoulder to where the gnomes had arrayed themselves in rank upon rank of hard granite. They carried long obsidian maces and mattocks and carried shields of wood overlade with countless leaves dried and oiled, as hard as leather. They stood, unspeaking, waiting. Caelor could not guess what was going on in their minds. They were old, very old. He had been forced to search long and hard to find the spell that would summon them out of the deepest caverns which had never seen the light.

He was admittedly, ignorant about how gnomes are born. Or spawned for that matter, even made possibly. He did know that when called to defend their lands and the lands of their lords that they fought with a cold ferocity. Still he wandered if these here were up for the task. If it wasn’t for their eyes which seemed to glow a pale blue, he would have almost thought they looked like small statues made by piling stones delicately on top of other stones. There were barely a hundred of them and he had ordered their Lodge emptied of all who could bear arms. They would have to do.

He turned away from the division of gnomes and made his way back towards the beach. As he reached the thickets he could see fawns and satyrs armed with bows and spears preparing themselves for battle. They bowed as he walked among them but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. They had more important things to think about than their lord.

Caelor glanced up and saw through a break in the canopy, the sky darkening and grey clouds rolling across the sky. He turned to the beach and extended a hand. His fingers flicking into different positions forming mystical signs, known only to the most senior druids and those few select Sylvan lords that took an interest in the magic of nature. Having completed the signs Caelor breathed out slowly and regained his composure. White mist seemed to rise up from the frothing water by the shore.  It rose up like a white cloak and swathed the huge slug-like vessels.

Caelor sent his mind shooting out over the water, touching the minds of random goblins. They were cold, tired and afraid. He would use that fear against them and drive them screaming back to their own shores in terror. This land belonged to nature, pure and exquisite. They would learn, oh yes. Nothing can overthrow the Great Mother.

“Overthrow? No. But they can cause strife with the Mother’s children. And it is our duty to stop them.”

“Corûn,” Caelor sighed. “I do not recall inviting you to share my thoughts.”

“That is correct, you did not,” spoke the old druid genially.

“Then why is it that you read my thoughts as if my mind was a library for you exclusively to peruse?” The Sylvan lord spoke bitterly.

“Can a man help but hear words that are carelessly shouted.”

“Maybe a man cannot but we of the Sylvan kin know respect for our fellow beings and show restraint when listening to the thoughts of others.”

The old man chuckled. “I can see that. However, my old friend I must inform you that you are contradicting yourself.”

Caelor hissed angrily. “This is not the place, nor the time but I promise you, once we have cast these invaders from our shores, we will discuss this in depth.” He turned from the druid and placed a hand on the trunk of an old Yellow-wood tree that rose high above the surrounding thickets.

“Asfalaeth araeûn sylvana.” He breathed quietly against the bark.

“What are you doing?” queried Corûn.

“Summoning the court. I believe it’s almost time for us to begin.”

Caelor turned and began walking back through the lines of satyr and fawn infantry.

“The centaurs are ready,” the old druid called after the Sylvan lord.

“Good,” called Aulon back. “We’ll need them and anything else you can conjure up.”

Corûn shook his head. “We will see what we can conjure up,” he said softly.

Blah blah blah, that's it for today.

Goodbye.