The Druid Wards the Island

Jaekob Faolan: In the early dawn, just as light began to creep through the windows of the elven castle, the Druid awoke from reverie. He slid his long legs off the side of the bed and sat there, dressed only in a pair of white linen breeches. His long red hair fell down his shoulders, curled onto his back and he reached up to push the hair from his face.

Jaekob Faolan rose slowly, but deliberately. He knew what he had to do and this was the moment: he was taking his lands back and taking control no matter the consequence where the demon was concerned. He rose and slipped a white linen tunic over his head, moving his neck in a circular motion as if to work the stiffness from it.

Jaekob Faolan: He pulled his ceremonial boots on and then a shoulder cape to complete his Druid outfit and walked briskly to where his staff leaned into the corner of the room. He reached for it, touched it, let his fingers stroll down the thick dark wood. He felt the power of the staff emanate through his fingers, his arm and then push through his body. He curled his fingers around the staff claiming it for his own and turned to move down the stairwell and through the elven castle.

Jaekob Faolan passed through the great hall, stopping to pick at the luscious red grapes in one of the many fruit bowls that adorned the table. He bit into one, letting the sweet fruit tantalize his senses. A bit of a smile curled onto his lips and he took another flight of steps downward and into the throne room.

Jaekob Faolan: In the throne room, the Druid stopped and turned to look at his throne. He bit his lip hard and swayed there for a moment, his tall lithe form a white fog mingling into the dark woods of the room. And then he grasped the staff tighter, pulling it to his chest and bowing before the throne of the River Lands.

Jaekob Faolan: "It is time," he whispered softly, his elven features gentle yet strong in his determination. "It is time to do what must be done for the good of my people and my lands." And he strode out into the courtyard, toward the massive gates to the elven city.

Jaekob Faolan: As he passed each guard, they startled to see the Druid in his ceremonial robes and moved as if to follow in step behind him. To each. he waved a hand gently through the air as if to dismiss them. And he left..... left the castle alone and moved  down the curling steps of the mountain and toward the lush forests of the River Lands.

Jaekob at the Castle Gate

Jaekob Faolan walked parallel to the river that traversed the River Lands. Where the bank was it lowest, he stopped for a moment kneeling beside the water. He cupped his hand and pushed it into the cool liquid of the river and then raised it, letting the water trickle from his hand slowly and back into the vastness of the river.

Jaekob Faolan: As the water, his primary element, flowed back into the river, he gradually slowed his breathing, visualizing his breath as the essence of water. He breathed in and out until his breathing seemed to stop and he was one with the element. It's strength was his strength. He spoke softly, studying the river, "I come to you this day for strength, my sister," he whispered as if the river were as alive as any. Well, for him, it was.

Jaekob Beseeching his Water Element

Jaekob Faolan: "I ask you to aid me in what I must do to protect my people and my lands. Aid me as I aid you, aid us," and as he finished his meditation the water seemed to shimmer in response and he sucked in a deep breath of air - knowing the elements were his to beseech and his power was ever mighty with the water, the air, the fire and the earth as his soldiers.

Jaekob Faolan rose to his feet, moving swiftly along the river and toward the richness of the forests, each step pushing into the soft earth, each step a connection to the earth pushing strength up and through his elven body.

Jaekob Faolan: As the Druid passed through the forest and up the mountain, he stopped at the henge and stood there, his mind focused on the empty bowls that lined the stone altar. "Hear me, Spirits of the land," he whispered as he waved a hand over the empty bowls, "I give you honour, I give you an offering. Aid me as I aid you." And as he pulled his hand back to his chest, pressing it against his heart, the empty bowls came to life. In one, the earth rose up to fill it with rich soil, in another a flame flicked and danced in rhythm with his heart, in another, a bit of smoke wafted in the gentle breeze. And in the last, water rose up from the bottom of the bowl and pushed up and poured out onto the altar.

Jaekob at the Henge

Jaekob Faolan: Again he waved his hand over the bowls and this time the energy of the earth, the fire, the air and the water pushed up and into his hand flooding him with magic and power.

Jaekob Faolan looked outward, past the henge and to the island in the distance. "My island," he whispered as he moved toward it with slow steady strides, his lean, muscular body filled with possibility and determination.

Jaekob Looking Toward the Island

Jaekob Faolan sucked in a deep breath of air, letting it curl into and fill his body with energy as he stood before the bridge to the Druid's Island. "It was early enough," he mumbled to himself quietly. "The Gypsy will be sleeping and I can do what is necessary to protect her and the island from the Demon that plagues her and the lands."

Jaekob Faolan slowly raises his face to look upward. He extends his arms out and up as if to embrace that bit of land which lies before him.

Jaekob Faolan: A snarl curls onto his lips; a soft growl escapes from deep inside and seems to fill the land in front of him. The single stone in his staff begins to shimmer a glowing red.

Jaekob Faolan: And there he stood, the Druid, all powerful pushing the power that filled him outward. It pushed through his body: his arm, his hands and from his fingers. It pushed into his staff as the  faint shimmer of the staff  pushed all of his power out toward the island, pushed and wrapped it in a gentle fog warding off all evil, all demons.

The Island is Protected from Evil!!

 Jaekob Faolan sucks at the air as his body trembles from weakness and crumples on the ground, spent and exhausted from the use of so much magic.

 Jaekob Faolan: He kneels there watching as the warding fog lays about the island, protecting it and the Gypsy.

Jaekob Faolan: "I am not done," he growls softly to himself. "This is only the BEGINNING!"