Admorin at the campfire of life

[mixafix]

My obsession with all things Dragon had taken me far from home. Hilm had a place in history and I had been part of it. One of the many twigs of the tree of knowledge that had drawn me to be there at the time of the great siege was of course the presence of the dragon.
 
 They had over the years not taken to my obsession at all. Indeed corrupted or otherwise they had done their best to destroy me. Snapping strands at will at one time.
 
 This of course had only driven me on. It was prudent if one was to be a tree, to be one in a large forest. I had no desire to stand aloft and alone where I might be singled out. Watch and wait, wait and watch.
 
 What I had learned of the dragon then had been done from a distance. Of course I had studied them up close too - shared an idea or two. Shaped my self so in their likeness. But not a very good one in truth and one they took offence to.
 
 The war is done now and I must return to the Fog within the Fog. The Five Oak Grove - deep within the Forest of Fog - home of sorts. The only home I could claim.
 
 There I had made my mark when I helped to clean one part of the Forest of Fog of all manner of ill, and took two young druids under my branch,Willow and Foresta ,They are grown now over these past years and understand the campfire of life better than most I have met.
 
 Where once I visited many months of the year, I have in these dire times barely visited once a year to ensure they are growing like the Oaks we planted together all these years ago. One for each of those present - a new beginning.
 
 I shall take dragon shape once again and risk flight to return.

[mixafix]

South west then, the great oak far behind now and it's watchful campfires of devotees sat upon many different shaped stones. But the oak safe nonetheless.
 
 Swooping low over the trees, fast and evasive, shape, form and a certain mindset of the mighty Dragon, but there it..stops. Troublesome trollocs and Gullible giants left in my wake, I have done my share. Their hurled boulders a timeous reminder they care not whether real Dragon or druid, their hate will remain the same.
 
 My current form a mere spell and yet more - an expression of will and mood. I dive between some trees careful not to branch bash, free of the Great Forest and bound for home. The right shape for the right task, an extension of nature or the ultimate balancing act.

[mixafix]

Pay attention Admorin, take your dragon fodder, and flap those wings
 commencing descent, claws are out
 check your speed and may the Soul Mother spare you
 Pay attention Admorin shipping lanes below
 and their bards want to know which side you cheer
 and it's time to join them if you dare
 
 Pay attention Admorin your shape is failing
 I'm falling in a most peculiar way
 and the ship looks very inviting today
 Here I am falling, changing, far above the sea
 
 Pay attention Admorin your shape has gone, feel something new
 Can you feel it Admorin, can you feel the shape
 here I am sitting on the mast far above the deck
 my parrot is blue and there's nothing they can do
 
 Dregar beckons then to the west - land ho!

[mixafix]

Audiria and the desert beyond then, how things have changed, running now, faster....without conscious thought, I am cheetah, running, listening searching, the animals talk I know their story well, and the dried sparse vegetation tells another tale, and I am ever more bound to the land - onwards.
 
 In the dark I am badger, the change almost without thought, I am reminded of the badger run we druids made these months ago, the last time in this desert. Things have changed, the sands have blown, but all is well.
 
 Then up into the sky climbing high the flight of the mighty Dragon west towards the Fog, familiar trees, the river runs true, nature bursting in all directions a sense of balance - and I can almost see a distant campfire burning. I will take a seat soon, a place close to the fire. See if Willow and Foresta have gathered any friends.

[mixafix]

The Oaks have grown, the forest around them tended like a neat garden, Willow and Foresta are still spending most of their time near the grove and it shows.
 
 Some foresters are here asking their advice and sharing their wisdom. The campfire is burning then as it should. People choose their seat. I will need to continue to draw Willow and Foresta closer to the fire even as I send them further from the Grove. Never quite as much time as one would like.
 
 Not so far as to fear death or slavery, no not that road ever again. But the forest must be theirs to share and understand. They cannot achieve that growing neat lines of weeded herbs around the Oaks. We start today come Druids lets walk aways we need leave no trail for others to follow and we will make our own path.
 
 They have brought a friend, she wants to share their secrets, good enough, we will see. The birds are spooked, the boars are on the move, let them learn for this one is more than giants, and they cannot yet sense the danger. Let them lead.
 
 Closer now the land is torn, some they see some they don't. The taint of something from beyond the last light of the campfire, something from the dark out of place here among the trees. Barkskin all round just in case, a cautious Druid is a live Druid, we are not here to save every cat and dog, just the land, the whole thing. Do they sense that ? Can they make the right judgement.
 
 Something lurches ahead, something not quite dead, once a man and now unnatural  - I see their loathing and their fear..good enough. An arc of lightning now and the thing is destroyed - let's see how long it takes them to realise the birds have returned.

[mixafix]

Our trek took us west, we picked up a couple of woodsmen, and a trader as we drew closer. All paths led to Vale it seemed, a good place to meet and trade.
 
 I noticed that my charges were still at ease here among the townsfolk, something I had lost, my senses deprived of nature's touch I always felt a little unease.
 
 I took to the old meeting place, there I met with Aralin, last of the Vahkar. He told me of his plans and hopes to rebuild his company. His work promised well for the Fog and I offered my support. We will meet again he and I, close to the campfire.
 
 But provisions to hand for now I turned for the Grove. Time was running short.

[mixafix]

Nearly a month has passed, plants have been planted, people have been guided, animals have been counted, one or two have have been drawn closer to the campfire. Things from the dark have been destroyed.
 
 The mighty Dragon lumbers aloft again, the cheetah runs true and the cat slips in the shadows watching all. Just another day, another journey. East again - Shara's bandits have threatened the flame in the fire and a different type of danger from the darkness briefly ran close to the fire, eyes closed, oblivious to the light but they were there nonetheless, there dealing death to bandits and serving the campfire even though they cannot stop there or sit close. Just another day.