Worlde Arcane: Bigobo Grove

Bigibo Grove is a vast expanse of trees standing below the Dragon's Mountain range and spreading out across to the Okajavo Desert. Along the Eastern edge at the foot of the mountains, lies a road running from North Grove to South Grove. In the center, travellers will find another road leading them to Okajavo Desert. Both North and South Grove have roads leading to The Lorimar and those journeying through North Grove can also find paths to Bigobo Inlet and Kiana.

Dragon's Peak Path December 2, 2010 - 2:32 am

The Path at the Base of the Mountains July 29, 2011 - 2:47 am

Bigibo Inlet July 29, 2011 - 2:47 am

The Lorimar Road 2: The Bigobo Shadow-ways January 14, 2011 - 10:03 pm

The Love Canal February 9, 2011 - 1:29 am

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Thursday, March 8, 2007 - 11:51 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Cutting wide away from the Lorimar Road, from the plains along the northeastern edge of the Green Forest, a Magick-creature rode a horse that was nearly exhausted into the trees of the Grove. The sun was all but set, and light was failing, and the Magimentelle decided that there would be no proceeding further today.

Duncan - or Donovan - stopped his horse, letting it rest at last, and dropped off of it into a small clearing between the trees. It was not much, but it was suitable for a campsite - and Kiana and the ocean were drawing closer. He longed to smell the salt on the wind that was blowing past, but that sense was gone from him forever.

He looked over his shoulder, at Kayne, hoping he had not lost the big prince. He had not ventured any thoughts towards the Celt in a long time, though he owed the man a great deal. A cloak, for instance, and a gauntlet, and quite likely another apology.

The problem of his name was still on the forefront of his mind. For, he had asked Kayne to name him, and Kayne had - and yet, he had been given another name, from his father (or some lingering memory of his father), and so now he had two names.

Duncan and Donovan. Donovan and Duncan.

He could keep them both, he knew - a given and a middle name, as was custom in some parts of the worlde. Yet, he had not yet decided if that was the proper course - nor, if it was, which name was to be first amongst the two.

It had become a conundrum. He had pondered it a great deal - for though Kalien was his father, and should be honored thusly, Kayne had a claim on the Magimentelle's second life, and could easily claim parental rights. For the precious dragon-fang that Kayne had sacrificed now served as Duncan and Donovan's heart - the locus of Magick that fed the unique body of the Magimentelle.

"My identity has become far more complicated than it should be." He said. "I fear I shall forever be wondering just who I am."

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Friday, March 9, 2007 - 5:44 am GMT | Edit | Link |

The Lord of Eireland followed his companion and friend into a clearing between the trees. The rosey radiance of the setting sun was a beautiful sight. Feeling a gaze on him, he met Donovan's eyes.

His voice was sad, and weary as well. He bore the magickal being no ill will. He wished things could be easier for his friend. In truth he could not imagine being a person constructed of magick. "I hope you find out, lad. I really do."

He didn't blame himself as much as he had before. Donovan had told him that would be pointless. Maybe that was true at this point. Still, he wished he could comfort the man. He would have at least laid a hand one one of Donovan's shoulders, but since Donovan was a magickal being, Lord Kayne was not sure if it would work.

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Tuesday, March 13, 2007 - 12:26 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Duncan or Donovan smiled at Kayne's words, though his smile was a saddened one. His stormcloud eyes grew dark within as his exponentially complex thoughts began to crowd him once again. He decided that he owed Kayne at least an explanation.

"Yew see, I asked yew to name me because it was yer right." He said. "Yew contributed to my new life, and in such a way yew are a parent of mine - at least, in this form. And so yew must be included in my naming. However, the soul in this body was not birthed by yew - and while I can no longer claim to be Josiah, I am still the son of my father, Kalien, and so he has a claim on my name as well." Already, the explanation was growing in complexity; Donovan and Duncan was not sure if he was merely going to confuse Kayne with such ramblings. But, he needed this put to rest, before he could finish his pursuit of Erynne in earnest - else, he would remain ever divided, and he would ultimately fail in saving her.

"My father told me of the progenitor of our family, Clan Harlech." The Magimentelle went on. "His name was Donovan. It is this name that has become entwined in my own. My father's contributuion to my naming - but now I am twice-named: Duncan and Donovan. Yew see? Yer right and my father's right - but more than that, for if rights were all then one could simply be waived in favor of the other. It was yer duty, as it was his, to name me. And so I cannot simply discard one name for the other, nor can I come to any conclusion at which name deserves the greater honor - for neither body nor soul is of greater honor in the being, as they are equal parts of the same thing."

He found himself a tree to sit beneath, and got off of his feet. He realized his body was full of little pains - reactions to the Worlde, which was a Natural thing, while his body was Unnatural: specifically, Counter-Natural, composed of Magick, which as a rule ran contrary to Nature. It made his life . . . uncomfortable.

But he had other issues. His naming was undecided - he had yet to hear what his proxy-father would say.

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Friday, March 16, 2007 - 11:30 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

The explanation offered by his Magimetelle friend was not as difficult for him to grasp as Duncan or Donovan might have feared. The sadness in his friend's smile bade him to be serious in nature for now. Still, he did not let his own sadness manifest itself for his friend's sake.

"I see. An honorable way to give due place to each. 'Tis commended. So yew've no preference one way or the other I imagine, which one I use. Both are names of honor."

He followed Donovan's (or Duncan's) lead in getting of his steed and finding a tree to sit beneath. Naturally, he did not choose the same tree that Donovan (or Duncan) had chosen. He was content merely to rest for the time being.

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Wednesday, March 21, 2007 - 10:34 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Donovan/Duncan had not exactly learned Kayne's position on the matter - but that was all right, he supposed. That the Celt seemed ambivalent was answer enough.

"Of course, it is yer right to use whichever name suits yew." He said. "To others - I suppose I shall give my name chronologically; Donovan first, as it comes from my soul-father, and my soul is older than my body. Donovan Duncan Harlech. That shall suffice, and more importantly it shall decide the matter. I wish to think no more about it."

He leaned back against his tree, more satisfied now that he had put his naming to rest. He would not allow himself to argue it any further, and cloud his already troubled mind.

"It has been a long day." He said. "Do yew have anything to eat? I don't think this body will ever be hungry for food again, but I daresay the same is not true of yers." Donovan wanted mostly to rest - he found the need for sleep pressing - but, if Kayne had no supplies he would go hunting before he went to bed. He thought it would be far faster for him to do the hunting, as his Magicks would give him an edge over whatever animals he might find.

Tomorrow, of course, it would not matter - for tomorrow they would be in Kiana, and thence they could pick up the trail of the slavers, and the pursuit would begin in earnest.

(OOC:

Sorry. Finals.)

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Friday, March 23, 2007 - 12:48 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Lord Kayne shook his head and spoke in a friendly manner to his traveling companion. "That's true, I'm bound to get hungry every now and again. I've some bread and dried fruits for then. Why don't ye rest and save your hunting for later? You look beat down, old friend.

(OOC:

It's okay)

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Tuesday, March 27, 2007 - 7:55 am GMT | Edit | Link |

"Indeed." Donovan said. "It has been a long, long day."

Since Kayne seemed to be taken care of, and so Donovan decided that there was no point in worrying himself further. He was exhausted in every sense.

He left his tree-trunk and stretched out on the ground, laying uncovered in the grass beneath the trees. He was not comfortable in any real sense, but that had nothing to do with his position on the ground. He had slept in worse conditions before - he decided he could survive this peculiar situation. He was asleep quickly.

His dreams were many and confused, and filled entirely with a sense of dread. The future did not bode well, and he felt its presence looming above him, a dark shadow he could not get out from under.

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Saturday, March 31, 2007 - 9:42 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

He partook of a bit of bread and dried fruitst to assuage his hunger. As Donovan fell asleep, he took it upon himself to keep watch. Keep vigil he did indeed do. His mind started to wander towards thoughts of home, but he pulled it back sharply. He had no time for such wistfulness at the present time.

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Monday, April 9, 2007 - 10:21 am GMT | Edit | Link |

There was a storm. Of identity, of history, of guilt and blame and rage and sorrow. Donovan's sleep was tortured by the echoes of his soul - inheritor of far too much for any one soul to bear.

His sleep was restless, betraying the mad and desperate dreams that plagued him - the chaotic drift of his Magick-bound mind as it was buffeted by the tide of his regret and his confusion. He tossed himself on to one side and the other, murmuring incoherently to the terrors hidden behind his eyes.

All of a sudden, he woke, sitting upright in the dark of the night. His arm and his body ached; with his right hand he rubbed his cloth-skinned left, still not quite used to the changes that were happening to him. Behind him, on the grasses that were his bed, a black scar had been left by his body - burned by his heat and Magick. He had never before left such obvious mark of his passage.

He turned, still somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, and looked for Kayne. The Prince was keeping watch - though for what, Donovan was not sure. He did not think the forest creatures would come near him as he was, glowing even now with his own eldritch light.

"Prince." He said, as softly as he could with his strange new voice. "Rest. I will watch the rest of the night, and wake yew in the morning."

To further emphasize his decision, Donovan stood and walked towards the center of the clearing that had become their camp. He stood and stared up through the trees, at the sky far above, and he wondered at the immensity of time that lay before him.

How many years would it be before he saw Erynne again? How long before he set his mistakes right?

(OOC:

Sorry, man. I need to get better about this, but RL is walking all over me right now.)

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Friday, April 13, 2007 - 8:35 am GMT | Edit | Link |

It was some time he had been maintaining his tireless vigil. Tireless? Nay, but rather ceaseless He came about with a start at the pungent odor of burnt grass. To see Donovan jerk awake as he did was a bit alarming. "Ye all right, lad? Hm? Ye all right?"

A soft and gentle voice gave him the reassurance he needed Despite the rapidity with which Donovan had come awake, the other man seemed okay to him. Lord Kayne heard Donovan's almost gentle enteaty. "All right, Donovan, I shall then. Take ye care while keeping the watch."

The Lord of Eireland tried to take his friend's advice. He laid down and tried to rest. He found success in the endeavor, and dreams of his homeland comforted him. Before he drifted off he told Donovan almost gently to "Be safe, my friend". Afterwards, dreams of home provided an oasis for him, protecting his heart from a grief that threatened to drown it. Where had Lady Damiana gone? Would he ever find her again? He earnestly hoped so. What of Lady Erynne, the Princess of his people, the fairest of Eireland's roses? Was his father well? His mother? His sisters? How long would it be that they would be parted? The questions assailed his heart and mind like cold and relentless bitter ocean waves washing over his soul and inner being as he tried to sleep. He spoke a silent prayer in his heart for the strength to bear being parted from those he loved best, no matter how long it would take for them to be together again. Tears trickled from his eyes even in his sleep, though no whimpers or any other sounds of distress were all that audible.... though occasionally a few might be caugh, if one were actively listening.

(OOC:

It's okay, man. Don't worry. Real life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. I know it well. :-) )

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Tuesday, April 17, 2007 - 7:00 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Were Donovan more aware, he might have heard the disquiet of Kayne's slumber. The Magimentelle, however, was elsewhere; his watch was forsaken as he continued to stare up toward the sky, watching the night roll on toward morning.

The clearing was lit with his trembling glow, rippling with the shifting light that glimmered from his body. Idly, he ran his fingers across the coarse fabric of his arm, across the cold metal and leather of his hand, though his mind dwelt not on that, nor on anything else material.

His family was broken and dead. His father, his uncle, and perhaps even his cousin, too - clan Harlech had fallen. He was no longer himself. Perhaps he had never been himself. He was a lost and drifting soul, bound to duties owed to ghosts, written in histories of worldes long since passed.

The night sped on, and morning began to creep through the trees. Donovan stared upward at the fading stars, and called out to the only One who could help him.

"Speed me on my way." He said. "Help me find her once again." He turned and looked at the Prince of Eireland, a soul also homeless and adrift. The Magimentelle did not wake him.

At the edge of the clearing, Donovan untethered the horses and began to make them ready for the day's ride. If luck was with them, they would be in Kiana before the sun set, and thence on a ship to follow the slavers that had taken Erynne and Damiana. If all went well, there would soon enough be a rescue - and a reckoning.

And if destiny or the One or anything else defied him, Donovan would topple it and see it crushed underfoot. He would be bound no longer.

"Kayne!" He called out, the horses ready and waiting. "Rise, and make haste. Time speeds ever onward."

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Monday, April 23, 2007 - 5:04 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

It didn't take muck for Lord Kayne to awaken. Donovan's calling out accomplished that in short order. "Aye, 'tis one thing we can't get back, time."

Time. It was one thing he felt he didn't have. Neither to enjoy the sounds of the morning as he normally would. Nor to relax. Not that he wanted to relax anyway. Ladies Damiana and Erynne were still out there and in need of aid.

He was quick then to mount his steed once everything that was needful was taken care of. As he made his ascent to his mount's back, he called out a bit. "Do you still feel them at all? Don't strain yourself."

With that, he was ready to go as soon as Donovan himself was ready to go.

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Tuesday, April 24, 2007 - 5:09 am GMT | Edit | Link |

Donovan had been ready, and so when Kayne was astride his horse Donovan kicked his own mount into a canter, heading north by north-east, towards Kiana - the hafling city, and the closest port.

The Prince's question lingered in the air as Donovan made off through the groves, the weight of the chase heavy upon him. He did not look back at Kayne when he gave his answer, keeping his stormcloud eyes focused on the depths of the trees before him.

"They are no longer in Aniada." He said. He briefly contemplated leaving it at that, but he could not bring himself to lie to the Eirish Prince - who had far more to lose in Erynne and Damiana both. "I am reluctant to venture into the Flow of Magick again - after what happened yesterday, I am wary of losing myself a piece at a time. Yew haven't enough cloak left to wrap up the rest of me."

He had meant to deliver his last line as a jest, but it did not come out in that way at all. He simply could not find the mood for humor.

"Kiana is not far; we should make it before sundown, even without straining the horses." Donovan ran a hand through his wild white hair. "When we are there, we shall have to inquire at the harbor after ships that have left recently, to see which continent the slavers made for."

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Sunday, May 6, 2007 - 10:52 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

He was not slow to kick his own horse into a canter once Donovan had done so. In truth he had wanted to go much faster than that. It would do no good to go barreling along heedlessly. It would give no benefit to the Ladies Damiana and Erynne if they killed themselves or the horses in their pursuit of their lost targets.

Despite his inner eagerness, he kept to the canter. Still, he was determined and blocked out all save the way ahead. He made conversational speech of his own as Donovan's travail reached his ears.

"I don't ask that of ye, lad. Ye needn't venture into the magick realm again. We'll find them." He put confidence in his voice, but he still berated himself. "Expected to rule a realm, and I can't keep it's Princess out o' danger.... At least twenty men... It's as if the Griphon army had stolen her, stolen both of them, likely to tie them in bondage to a couple of foppish pansies of Daelowsian noblemen, when none of them could be worthy of such flowers. Nay, they're both jewels to bright for them to appreciate with their high and mighty tomfoolery when both of them are higher than any of them. Ach!"

He stopped himself for a moment then, continuing to ride on. "Aye, the Hafling city it is then. We'll see the Harbor Master when we can, once we're there. The slavers.... will pay... if we can make them.... they'll pay."

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Monday, May 7, 2007 - 6:01 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

Kayne's self-accusatory tirade set Donovan's teeth on edge - or would have, had Donovan teeth - and the Magimentelle found it hard not to let his frustrations out on the Prince.

There was entirely too much self-pity in this band of two. Donovan felt his share of it, and that made Kayne's all the harder to face; the truest mirror is the most difficult to accept.

"Nevermind any of that." Donovan said. "Blame and revenge are equally useless to us. Keep Kiana in the forefront of yer mind - Kiana, and then the Vericul." The thought of the sea did not sit well with the Magimentelle - he did not know how well he would fare on a ship. "We cannot make this right if we dwell on what we cannot change."

That, Donovan thought, was the key to both of their sanities - to keep focused on what they still could control. The chase was theirs to run. When it was over - then they could deal with consequences and reprecussions. Then they could blame. Then they could take revenge.

The day began to wear on - and as it did, Kiana drew ever closer.

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Tuesday, May 8, 2007 - 10:48 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

As with Donovan, the Lord of Eireland did his best to keep a deep inner ire in check. It would not serve him to let it erupt. He let out a weary exhale, and did his best to put a smile at least into his voice. "Right, Kiana, and the Vericul... then, whatever comes our way."

Donovan's words of the Vericul brought thoughts of home to mind. Like the Princess had had mentioned, he had always loved the sea. It had been a while since he had ridden upon the waves. Part of him looked forward to it very much.

He kept his mount to a steady pace, but a reasonable one. With each and every moment, Kiana grew ever closer. As counseled, he kept his mind on Kiana. Despite his best trying to suppress it, Donovan's words of revenge being useless brought a thought to his mind. He expressed it in a gentle voice that was very weary, and almost very sad.

"Useless or no... if there be revenge, I pray it doesn't turn... towards her. If any would know her pain, it would be one like you. One who can perhaps feel the very essence of another."

He kept riding, focused on the journey ahead. During it, his mind wandered between Kiana and home. With a will, he made Kiana take precedence, at least for the time being.

By Being of rampant Magick (Harlech)

Wednesday, May 9, 2007 - 6:51 pm GMT | Edit | Link |

One who can feel the very essence of another.

Perhaps, Donovan mused, that was true. And perhaps that was a fitting punishment; he had never truly felt others, though he spent long years helping all he could. His years had been spent in duty and in pennance, but never in compassion and never in care. He had been so long impersonal that to be forced to know the plight of others now would be truly just.

He was not, however, completely sure that such was the way he worked, now. But, it mattered not. Whether his new body worked one way or another, the lesson was the same.

Kiana lay ahead. They would be there soon.

By Kayne O'Chrysllach (Kayne)

Wednesday, May 16, 2007 - 7:59 am GMT | Edit | Link |

As with the being beside whom he rode, the Lord Kayne's thoughts were not entirely on the way ahead. Well enough focused he did keep to travel without incident, but the war of his thoughts between Kiana and home continued. As Kiana came ever closer, a weight grew in his heart. It grew and grew and grew, blanketing him in a cloak of invisible sorrow.

Well did he remember meeting the High Priestess Lady Raven of Ishitar in Kiana... and the unfounded words of the Lady Jillian of House Griphon that Lady Raven had tried to bewitch him. Nay, Lady Jillian had done that far more, in a manner far worse by wearing flowers in her hair because he favored them, in preening deliberately for him at supper, and in implying she would dress to please him. Verily such thoughts angered the Prince of Eireland, and the ire mated with the grief in his heart. Three whom he held dear, each in their own way, the Ladies Damiana, Erynne, and Raven were all missed... The fourth Lady was not forgotten, but she was not missed. The memory of Lady Jillian's charade of innocence and attempted enchantment of him gave birth to hatred in his heart for that girl and all her lineage.

By contrast, Lady Raven had cared for him when he had been ill, without seeking to be reflected in his glory, or to form political ties with his countrykin and people. She had soothed him when his own anger had put Lady Erynne in danger. She had even helped him to eat when that had been needed, seeking nothing save to be with him. She had always been more a Lady then Jillian of House Griphon ever could or would be in his eyes, despite her fancy clothes and pompous airs.... The Ladies Damiana and Erynne had likewise managed that feat without effort of any kind.

Lady Damiana, where was she? And Lady Erynne, did she fare well? He did not know. It hurt him to not know. He had promised his father to be a faithful guardian unto her. Pushing his grief aside, he focused on Kiana in his mind. His only allowance to vocal communication was to say to Donovan... If you do feel.. and you perceive what is in me... I know I must forget a past that cannot be changed... but what I feel, I pray ye don't begrudge it. You must have felt everyhing I do now... at one point or another." His voice was kind, not meant to wound. "Let's get them, and the future will bring what it will."

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