(please critique honestly if you want to. Feedback is highly welcome.
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"Cole, cover that one!" I yelled, pointing with my shield arm, before immediately placing it back into the path of an incoming strike. These "dark druids" were akin to nothing I had ever seen before. Attacking with fang and claw, and yet calling upon the fury of nature while able to concentrate their essences upon an alternate form... unable to continue my speculation, I struck at a temporarily vulnerable flank.
Cole moved appropriately to my call, dashing through battle to handle one of the cold-arrow-slinging rangers, his attention wholly shifted from the mountain giant who he'd cleaved in half to the elf or half-elf, I could not discern precisely which at this distance, who rained frigid agony upon Owen and Iradril. Were it not for the sharp, rending pain in my leg, I'd have considered upon what Aeridin would feel about these apparent zealots to the cause; those who would sacrifice the lives of those making weapons of melee, arrow, and spell to strike out against an enemy common to all... or perhaps Bloodstone's influence had reached even these apparent defenders of the wilds. Alright, these thoughts did indeed flash through my mind for the merest instant before I immediately struck back at the head attached to the armor covering my shin. The druid had struck low, leaving an opening for me to counterattack, slicing a clear path through gristle, bone, and muscle to stop short of catching Iradril in the chest with the force of my blow. Were I swinging my greatsword, I fear my balance would not have been checked in time. Clearly, Iradril's distance was swayed by Lucinda, or my hand guided by the Lord Protector this day... though again, my contemplation was cut short as I watched Owen's sword arm opened by the remaining druid, her overenthusiastic allies already struck down by the efforts of my own. We closed upon her and acted in kind, all aggressors put to blade and spell, our actions winning the day, those mahogany trees able to be pruned relinquishing their branches. I did my best to guide the harvesting, though my understanding and connection to nature fell far short of that of Luna, or even Jacchri.
We collected what we could, a large bundle of lumber held upon Cole's shoulder and a smaller encased in a bag crafted of linoskin attached to my pack gifted to me by Jil, and swiftly made our retreat before reinforcements received whispers on the wind of what had transpired here.
When we returned to Pranzis, as I made my way to the home of the Valhaikors, I let myself sigh quietly, wondering whether those druids truly felt that defending their forest against all comers was the way to stand against BLoodstone. If they were to have faith in those who collected properly, or taught those who did not... perhaps our strides would be that much longer. My confiction unswayed, my faith in Rofirein assured me that we would find the right path, our triumph against tyrrany and destruction certain.
