IC Adventures of a little Druid

Milo Greenwillow is a Dungeons & Dragons Original Character. This blog's purpose is to log all of his adventures as well as archive his past.

[milotalks]

Memories 5/?

Jameson sat on a mildly comfortable rock while the summer sun beamed down on him. He worked twine and twigs in his fingers twisting and tying them together. He had been sitting this way for at least an hour away from Annalise and Milo who were busy practicing druid spells. He grunted as a twig slipped past his fingers and he bit his lip to hold his concentration. Jameson let out a loud groan when the twig snapped and he leaned his back back to sigh.

“What are you doing, papa?” an innocent voice called to him and Jameson sat himself upright to see a small boy with faun brown hair and shining green eyes looking up at him curiously. Jameson smiled and ruffled his son’s hair, shaking him a little extra just to hear Milo laugh. Milo caught sight of the twigs and twine in his father’s hand and pointed at it extending his short arm as far as it could reach over the rock and over his father’s lap.

“What’s that?” Milo was so very curious. “It’s something for you, well, something I’m trying to make for you.” “For me?” Milo was excited. “Yeah,” Jameson laughed “I just need to keep it from falling apart.” Jameson worked the twig and twine again this time a little more carefully than before and weaved the pieces together with a particular finesse. Milo watched in wonder as his father constructed a shape in his hands and they sat together quietly under the shining summer sun. “What if I…” Jameson muttered to himself and he raised his hand over the bundle of strings and shoots allowing a bit of his magic to blend with it. A glowing blue light trickled from Jameson’s hand like dust dancing in the sunlight and he waved his hand over the wood slowly growing it and tightening the bonds where he wove them together. Milo still watched with wide eyes amazed at how the magic he was learning could be used. “There.” Jameson huffed proudly and he showed to Milo a little bundled doll made of the twine and twigs his father had. It’s arms and legs were twigs bound by the twine and Jameson even found a way to twirl the twine into eyes and a mouth. “What do you think?” Jameson shook the little doll at Milo and he carefully took it holding it in his small hands looking at it like it’s the most incredible thing he ever did see. “This is for me?” He asked again and Jameson laughed with a smile and nodded his head. Milo jumped for joy and leapt up into his father’s lap to give him the biggest hug he could manage from his tiny body. Jameson held him close and rocked him side to side in the loving embrace. Milo jumped down off him and ran to Annalise who was approaching and she knelt down to Milo who showed him the doll. Jameson got up to join them and they held hands as they walked back to their camp to eat the plentiful lunch Annalise prepared.

Milo found many ways to love his twiggy doll and he never wanted to be without it. He would take his doll on every adventure, sleep with it at night, and sometimes talk to it when his parents were busy talking to other adults about things he was too young to understand. Milo held onto the twiggy doll for a year or two until it finally broke and Jameson found it the night before they would travel to another trading location. Jameson would tell Milo he lost it in the travel and though Milo would be sad he would soon forget about it, having grown a little too old to really need it anymore.

[milotalks]

Memories 4/?

The quiet humming of the cool breeze through the trees and the crickets singing within the bushes were the first few signs that night had calmly fallen over the forest of Tethir. Deep within the woodland Jameson and Annalise Greenwillow had settled their son in for bed and they remained sitting outside of their tent by the fireside holding each other until the night called for them to rest, too. They sat this way every night holding one another close and whispering sweet nothings and talking of an ambitious future. They were content with each other, happy and in love.

“You know I was thinking of taking Milo with me for the next hunt.” Jameson spoke as he twirled one of Annalise’s red curls in his fingers. She sat in front of him between his legs and her back pressed against his chest. He held his arms around her in a comfortable embrace and when he spoke she only turned slightly to listen.

“I think it’s important for him to start to learn how to take care of himself, easier to do it now than later.” Jameson continued touching her hair, he loved the way it felt and the way the fire made it glow such a beautiful amber.

“He’s a druid, Jamie, not a hunter. You can teach him that later he’s smart I’m sure he will catch on just fine. He should focus on one thing at a time and this is important.”

“Well, basic survival skills are important too, Annalise. We can’t be there with him forever.” Annalise moved forward and turned herself to face him, cold air quickly filling in the space from where Annalise had been. He wished she’d sit back against him again but her eyebrows narrowed at him in a way he’d never liked seeing. She was mad at him.

“Milo can learn everything he needs to survive for now just with continuing his druidic studies. I need to prepare him for his future, he’s meant to do this.” She spoke with her hands and pointed to the ground to add emphasis to her words and Jameson rolled his eyes at her.

“I know your dream--”

“Vision.” She interrupted him and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“Vision. I know you saw this future for him but he can’t get there if something happens to us. He doesn’t know how to cook a flank or even correctly take an animal for food.”

“He’s sensitive, Jameson!” Annalise tried to protest.

“He’s going to be unless we expose him to this stuff now!” He sighed and looked at the tent where Milo slept hoping their shouting wouldn’t wake him up. He looked back at Annalise and spoke quieter but with a stinging bitterness in his tone.

“It’s already bad enough you won’t let him make any friends when we’re out, he doesn’t socialize how do you think he can help anyone later if he can’t talk to them?”

“We’ll help him through that!”

“And what if we can’t?” They were getting frustrated at each other. Jameson never understood why Annalise thought keeping Milo away from everything would somehow benefit him.

“We can, and we will. He’s going to grow up and become a smart, powerful druid. Silvanus will be proud of him and he will do great things don’t you want that for your son?” Annalise tried her best to justify her choices.

“My son is going to grow up socially stunted and all you care about is one skill that he has great talent for without bothering to think about what would happen to him if something happened to us.” He stood up and Annalise rose up after him. Jameson crossed his arms over his chest and looked again to the tent and back to Annalise.

“I’m taking him hunting tomorrow, let me at least try to teach him a new skill.” Annalise sighed and nodded her head saying nothing else. Jameson stood there for a moment thinking and then turned to their tent to check on Milo and settle himself in for bed. He hated fighting with Annalise, they hardly ever did, but when it came to their own child he knew he needed to start putting his foot down on how they chose to raise him. As Jameson closed his eyes to sleep he mindlessly muttered a whisper to Tymora hoping for a better tomorrow and a more prosperous future for Milo.

[kf1n3]

I got commissioned by @thatmodernhippie to draw my own oc and their oc Milo gardening together 💖🌷  

[milotalks]

Kay was such a joy to work with and she came out with such a beautiful piece! I'd love to commission again in the future, but this turned out beautiful thank you for all your hard work 💕

[milotalks]

I’m not planning on leaving but...

Since this is a side blog I am worried about the state of my main. If for some reason something happens you can find me at Archive of Our Own!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahymnisasong/works

[milotalks]

Hollow is the Soul pt. 5

Continued from [this post]

Silently, they all trudged along the trail the sun beating on their backs until finally they crossed into a road and met the town they were hoping to reach by caravan. “Come, let’s find a place to rest. No doubt we all need it.” Valor nodded ahead gesturing to an inn he saw on a street corner. The party nodded collectively and made way for the cozy looking house.

Together they walked into an inn where there was a maiden behind the bar looking rather unhappy. “What troubles you, friend?” Valor asked her as they stepped up to the counter. She looked at them with sorrow in her eyes and as she halfheartedly wiped a glass with a rag she spoke with an accent not familiar to Milo. “It’s my father...” She sighed, “He’s been taken by bandits and dragged into the forest..” She began to cry and Valor leaned forward to assure her they would find her father. She thanked them graciously and offered them a free night’s stay as a reward if they could bring him back safely.

“We should begin by looking for some clues, anything that could tell us about where exactly this man is being held.” Valor said as he turned to face the group of adventurers.

“Casia and I will look in the woods, see what we can find.” Hyacinth spoke confidently and Valor nodded at her and the two sisters turned to leave. Although he had wished they’d have time to relax, he was happy to see everyone eager to assist the girl. He figured they’d have time to rest after the fact. “Well now, that just leaves us.” Valor shrugged at Milo who only gave a “mhmm” in return. The two of them walked outside and Valor looked around wondering where to start. Milo’s eyes caught sight of an owl perched high in a tree and he wondered if the owl had seen anything. “Hello, Mr. Owl.” Milo spoke to the bird which caught Valor’s attention. “Hello... child of the forest...” the owl replied. “Have you seen the man who runs that inn?” Milo turned and pointed back towards the inn with the sad maiden behind the bar. “I saw, I did. Taken, he was.” the owl gave a hoot. “Could you take us to him?” Milo asked as he clasped his hands together hoping the owl would be kind. At this point in their talk, Valor had been watching curiously as he saw this druidic boy and owl hoot and coo at each other, truly a sight to behold. The owl gave another hoot and Milo frowned. He reached into his bag and pulled out a strip of dried meat and held it up to the owl who swooped down and grabbed it with its talons. With a loud hoot it flew off into the forest and Milo bounced into a run with a smile on his face. “He’ll show us where!” Milo called back to Valor as he ran after the owl and Valor jolted into a sprint without thinking. They ran past Casia and Hyacinth who were walking aimlessly. “The bird knows where he is!” Valor called to them as they ran by and though the orc sisters were confused they ran too and soon all four of them were running after an owl deep into the forest.

They stop short when the owl lands in a tree and the sound of voices startled them. Taking cover Hyacinth crept to the front and found the innkeeper locked in a cage surrounded by bandits. The whole area seemed like a camp. “We should go in at separate angles, split them up, throw them off.” Hyacinth whispered to the group. “They’re bandits, we’ll have to take them down. I’m sure the innkeeper’s a little worse for wear.” Valor stated. Milo held his staff closely and trembled with nerves and anxiety. After the last fight he doubted he could handle another so soon. As they began to move in a twig snapped under Hyacinth’s boot and upon being spotted she charged in with Casia close behind her. Valor ran for cover behind a tree and Milo stood frozen for a minute afraid to move ahead. At the sound of swords clashing and yelling and grunting Milo walks into the battle and sees one of the bandits attacking Casia. Again, without thinking he engulfs his staff with golden magic and runs up behind the bandit pushing him down and delivering a swift whack to his skull killing him instantly. Milo stood frozen in shock and Casia lept to another target, growling like a well seasoned warrior.

A gunshot behind Milo startled him and when he looked back to the body of the man he’d killed suddenly the ringing in his ears returned. He felt lightheaded and things felt hazy, the sounds of the battle came like muffled booms and the only clear thing Milo could make of it all was Valor who’d laid his gun down to make some kind of hand gesture. Milo blinked and swayed towards the fight trying to right himself, but the ringing was getting louder. He brought his hand to cover his ear and winced in pain. A bandit bumped into him but fell to the ground and the jolting push from it forced the ringing out of Milo’s ears and all of the sounds came rushing through in its place.

Once he composed himself enough he heard a shout from Valor, “guiding bolt!” or at least that’s what he thought he heard. When he looked he saw Valor point at one of the ruffians and a bright streak of light hit the man making him fall to the ground devoid of life. Milo slowly turned and saw death all around him, stiff bodies bleeding on the ground some cut up, split open, shot at. His breath caught in his throat and his bottom lip quivered. Suddenly he felt numb and in that moment everything felt like a dream. Everyone else was catching their breath and running to free the innkeeper. The battle had ended. 

When they caught up to Milo he hadn’t moved from his spot Valor put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently to bring him back to reality. How long had he been standing like that? “You alright, my friend? Come, we can’t stand here all day who knows if there will be more.” Milo was dragged along and his feet were moving but he was unaware of where he was going. He wiped his cheek on the way back feeling like something stuck to it and on his fingers he found blood from the bandit who’s head he’d smashed open. He gasped and wiped it quickly tears quickly filling his eyes.

They staggered inside the inn and the maiden who was cleaning glasses gasped and ran to her father crying and hugging him happy for his return. She thanked the adventurers and fulfilled her promise of free lodging and food for the night. The sounds all around Milo were deafened. He was unsure of what exactly happened, he didn’t remember how long it took to go back to the inn. When he was standing at the bar alone he was brought back to reality again by Valor’s gentle touch on his shoulder. “You’re looking a little pale. Let’s get some rest, Casia and Hyacinth have already retired to their room that just leaves the other one for us.” He gave his kindest smile and Milo nodded following him upstairs to their room. They settled their things beside the beds they chose to sleep in and Milo quickly noticed the drying out flowers in the windowsill. He walked over to them and Valor sat on his bed taking off his coat and gloves. With a swift move of his wrist Milo brought some life back into the flowers and when he turned around he saw Valor looking at his hands. Milo could see cuts and scars and to him they looked painful. “Are you hurt?” Milo asked him. “Oh, this?” Valor shifted around slightly embarrassed that he’d been caught. “No, it doesn’t hurt at all. No need to worry about me.” He smiled but Milo didn’t take that as an answer. He went to his leather bag and pulled out a pouch of herbs and medicinal pastes that he had and attempted to hand them over. Valor looked at the pouch and then at Milo and smiled again giving a light chuckle. "Not to worry, friend" he hides his hands from him, shaking just a bit, "it’s a blessing, from Ilmater, through my pain others can be helped and healed.” Valor reassured him and Milo frowned as he tucked the medicine away. With a shaky sigh he got himself ready for bed and without delay he climbed between the sheets and tried to sleep off the day. That night he had a horrifying dream that would keep him restless until morning.

To be continued...

[milotalks]

Hollow is the Soul pt. 4

Continued from [this post]

When the caravan finally stopped again it wasn’t because they’d reached their destination. The caravan was forcefully flipped over by the impact of what Milo in the moment could only think to be an explosive. Everyone toppled and rolled onto one another and when the noise and the commotion finally stopped Milo found himself bruised and twisted between arms and legs that weren’t his. He smelled smoke flowing in from somewhere in the caravan and fire had set the tarp ablaze.

Milo tried to look around but his vision was blurred, mostly from his head banging around, but he saw a figure rise from the pile and then another. He moved his head up and as he saw the two jump down from the caravan he realized it was Hyacinth and Casia, the orc half-sisters. Or was it half-orc sisters? His mind was too jumbled to figure it out now.

He got himself up and pushed to the end of the caravan with his staff in his grip. He crawled past Valor who was just beginning to right himself and as he stepped out of the caravan an arrow whipped past his face and hit the wood of the frame right next to his head. A scared, and worried feeling came over him and he saw Hyacinth and Casia crouched already ready to fight. He jumped down and held his staff close trying to hide behind them while he looked for a way to escape.

“Quick now, hurry up and loot the thing before it all burns!” A scratchy voice was heard in the distance and when Milo looked between the bodies of Hyacinth and Casia he found a bandit and then another and then two more walking into his view. He took a step back and bumped his back into the caravan shivering with fear. He turned his head quickly to look and see if Valor was alright but before he could glimpse inside he heard a snarl from Casia. “Back off before I rip your arms off!” She yelled at them and the bandits laughed in reply and continued to move forward clearly not intimidated by her threat. “Eat my blade, motherfucker!” Milo turned to Hyacinth his eyes wide and before he could process what insult he’d heard they were off charging into the bandits weapons and fists raised mightily into the air.

Milo still gawked and he felt frozen stiff, he watched as he heard steel clash with steel, grunts and growls of fists and flesh beating each other. Milo took a few steps away from the caravan attempting to assist in the assault but his timid feet only brought him a few inches into the open. Unfortunately for him it was just enough for a bandit to see him and lunge for him with a club raised into the air. Milo fearfully ducked out of the way and in a flash his instinct took over, he waved a hand over his staff and gold magic made the wood glow and glitter from top to bottom, leaves, moss, and all. It was as if his staff had been dipped in faerie dust. “Shillelagh...” He said and the bandit did not hear, or did not care to hear, instead he raised his club again and attempted to strike Milo with it only to be met with the resistant force of Milo’s magically imbued staff. The young druid managed to push the bandit off of him and he swung up to hit him again, his own soft warrior’s yell echoing in the clearing. It was with this hit that he was able to push the bandit a good distance away from him. He held his staff close and his breathing was ragged and his heart was racing. He braced himself for the bandit to come at him again until he heard a growl from behind him and he realized too late he would be sandwiched between the two ruffians.

He tried to turn, to roll out of the way, to just move in any direction and hope he would be safe but he stood frozen stiff and panicked over what to do. Then, as if waiting for his timely dramatic entrance, an arm emerged from inside the burning caravan and in it’s owner’s hand was a gun, long, silver, and white. A crack rang right beside Milo’s head and then another sounded off. Milo held a hand to his ear the ringing singing loudly and he looked around and saw the two bandits on the ground with spots of red on their chests. He looked at them horrified and just then Valor completely stepped out of the caravan and put his hands on Milo’s shoulders. Milo could feel him being shaken and he saw Valor’s face hidden by the sunlight that shone behind him. He didn’t hear any of what he said but he knew he was talking, he saw his mouth move but couldn’t read any words before Valor bounced off to help Hyacinth and Casia.

Slowly, Milo regained his hearing and the sound of the battle resumed. He looked around him and saw the bandits not returning to their feet. He assumed they were dead.

The fight was brought to an end quickly once Valor had stepped in, or so it had seemed to Milo. He didn’t move to assist after Valor had jumped in, he instead moved away from the caravan making sure he had his bags and as he wiped the sweat from his brow another bandit dropped at his heels. He stopped and turned to look and realized the fight was over and the last bandit had fallen dead. Hyacinth, Casia, and Valor collectively congratulated each other with nods and comforting pats on shoulders. Valor straightened his collar and brushed off his lapel unfortunately not managing to remove the dirt that stained his attire. They all rejoined Milo who quickly went to examine the sisters and heal and wounds they might have received in the fight.

Once they all had a chance to catch their breath Valor took a look at the caravan that had finally been engulfed by the smoldering flames at some point during the battle. “Well, I’m sure the town’s not too far.” Hyacinth said with a sigh as a piece of the vehicle broke off and tumbled to the ground in a fiery blaze. “Yes, well,” Valor clapped his hands together turning the party’s attention onto him. “You are right, Hyacinth, it’s not too far from here, I’m sure. Let’s, uh, let’s make haste? This isn’t exactly the welcome I was hoping for, after all.” And he hurried off securing his gun in it’s holster. The party quickly followed behind him and Milo trailed last, glimpsing the bloodied scene one last time before rushing off to the safety of the others with a tear slipping down his cheek.

To be continued...

[milotalks]

Memories 3/?

Milo stood quietly outside the shopkeeper’s door waiting patiently for his father to return with the items they were sent to buy. While he waited he kept himself busy by drawing circles in the dirt with a stick he’d found. Some of what he drew were druidic symbols, others were just fun squiggles. A cat approached him with a loud purr and brushed up against his leg looking for attention. Milo smiled at the orange tabby and welcomed his new small friend with a gentle scratch between the ears. The cat purred and purred under his touch, “thank you” the cat continued to purr and rub it’s body against Milo’s leg. Of course cats couldn’t talk, but Milo always understood them.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at the tabby and then he reached into his pocket and pulled a strip of dried meat he was saving for the walk back to his family’s camp. The cat bounced up and grabbed the meat scurrying off with it’s tail pointed to the sky in delight of its treat. Milo smiled as he watched the cat disappear into the crowd when suddenly he heard the shopkeeper’s door open. His father stumbled out laughing with a man Milo knew to be Rasmus, his father’s longtime friend. He was much older than his father with a big furry mustache.

“My eye’s just ain’t what they used to be.” Rasmus told his father and he too belted out a jolly laugh holding his stomach as if to try and hold it in. Milo stood and ran over to them and Rasmus immediately smiled upon seeing the young druid.

“My, Jameson, your boy’s looking older every time I see him!”

“Hello Mr. Rasmus!” Milo happily waved his hand at him.

“Good t’see you, boy, how’s your mother holding up these days?” He bent forward with his hands on his hips and a raised brow.

“She’s good! She’s making stew for us today!”

Rasmus stood up right and breathed a wistful sigh.

“I sure do miss her cookin’.” He said and turned to look at Jameson. “On yer next visit do bring me back some will ya? Ellie’s ah... well you know her cookin’s ain’t what it used to be.” He near whispered that last part but a loud female voice came from within the shop.

“I HEARD THAT!”

Milo looked confused but his father and Rasmus once again burst into joyous fits of laughter. When all had settled Milo took notice of something his father held strapped behind his back.

“What’s that, Papa?” He pointed to a long brown instrument and when Jameson heard his inquiry he swiveled it around to the front to reveal a beautiful guitar.

“Isn’t it nice? Rasmus said he was gonna toss it but I figured I’d take it off his hands. Keep home a little less boring.” He winked at Milo and the small druid just continued to look at the instrument in awe.

“You know how to play that?” Milo asked.

“Of course, yer father’s got the talent for anything with a few strings... or laces.” Rasmus nudged Jameson in the arm with a chuckle and Jameson smiled at him shaking his head.

“Like your bow!” Milo shouted.

“You got it.” Jameson smiled at him and after a few more minutes of talking the three of them said goodbye and Milo and Jameson took off back to camp.

When they got there Annalise was already at the fire preparing their dinner. Judging from the smell Milo guessed it was his favorite apple beef stew. Annalise looked happy to see them and immediately Milo ran to hug her and Jameson walked over to give her a kiss on her forehead and hand her the items they were originally sent to buy. As she got ready to sort them out she got a glimpse of the guitar on Jameson’s back and tilted her head at him motioning for Milo to resume his studying before dinner.

“Rasmus let you take more of his... refuse?” Milo knew that was her fancy word for trash.

“Yes, you know, ‘one man’s trash’ as they say...” Jameson sat down across from her behind the fire and rested the guitar in his lap. He knew Annalise didn’t like him taking extra things for the road but he thought she wouldn’t mind this much.

“Mr. Rasmus says Papa can play it.” Milo said as he grabbed his notebook and sat down next to his mother.

“Yes, ‘anything with strings’.” He repeated what Rasmus had said earlier.

“And laces.” Milo continued and Annalise and Jameson both looked at him. Annalise’s cheeks tinted pink as she turned to look at her husband who had his face hiding in his hand stifling a laugh.

“Yes, well, anyway” Annalise cleared her throat and continued to work on the meal she was preparing. “Won’t you play something then?” She smiled at him and Jameson looked as if he couldn’t wait for her to ask him that.

Not before long their campsite was filled with music, a kind of music Milo hadn’t personally heard before. Mixed with the crackling of their fire, the sound of apple beef stew boiling in the iron pot, their campsite was the most homely its felt in ages. They found it refreshing.

After dinner Jameson continued to play some more and the sounds carried Milo’s attention straight out of his notebook. He jumped up and went to his father who continued to play.

“I want to learn to play something too!” Milo had decided.

“Oh yeah? This?” Jameson gestured to the guitar as he strummed a few more chords of his song.

Milo shook his head, “something else, so we can play together!” Jameson chuckled and nodded his head at Milo who bounced happily. Milo loved listening to his father play that guitar, he would love it the next night too and many more nights after that.

Late into the evening Annalise had sent Milo to bed and she stayed up cuddled next to her husband by the fire as he continued, still, to play soothing songs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so invested in something. You love this, don’t you?” She asked him nuzzling her face into his shoulder.

“I haven’t just sat and played like this in years, you know I think Milo and I should start a band. What do you think?” Annalise laughed and playfully pushed him. Jameson had stopped playing and he put his arm around Annalise giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

“Milo has a lot of studying to do, I don’t think he’ll have time to travel the world with you.” She smiled.

“Ah, a solo act it is.” He pretended to look sad. “It’s okay, that boy’s going places in his own way.” Jameson stretched and sat the guitar down next to him.

“He’s going to be a very skilled druid someday.” Annalise leaned into Jameson. “I can already tell he’s making such a difference in this world.”

“Well with you guiding him I’m not surprised.” He smiled at her and gave her another kiss. He rested his cheek on top of her head and for a moment they sat there peacefully enjoying each other’s company.

“By the way...” Jameson broke the silence. “Rasmus wants your food. I think he’s jealous my wife cooks better than his.” Annalise laughed and so did Jameson and they sat that way for a while until finally putting out the fire for the night. They climbed into their tent and slept on either side of Milo as they usually did and the three of them snored off the apple beef stew while sounds of guitar strings played in their heads.

[milotalks]

Memories 2/?

It was a normal day in the forest of Tethir, or at least it would be if a harsh cough hadn't been following Milo Greenwillow for weeks. It had started as a tickle in his throat and over time it grew to a creeping cough. For any adult this would be trivial, something that would disappear in a few days. However, for Milo who was only three years of age reaching four, this was something to be concerned about.

"He's getting worse, Jameson. We have to do something." Annalise looked at her husband as she held their small child in her arms. He behaved normally but his coughing fits were coming more frequently. "Listen," Jameson approached his wife wrapping his arms around her and their babe. "In just one more day we'll be near the next town. I'll take him to a doctor there and he'll be just fine." He looked at Annalise and saw a tear threatening to fall from her eyes. He touched her cheek gently turning her head to look at him. He said nothing else and after a few moments she nodded her head at him and turned from him leaving her husband's embrace and heading into their tent to let Milo rest.

The day passed without issue but the night was not so fortunate. Overnight Milo had come down with a high fever and his small body shivered in a cold sweat. Before the sun rose Annalise and Jameson had already packed up their things and hurried to the next town. Annalise held Milo the whole way whispering sweet things to him trying to calm his fussiness.

At the next clearing it was well into the morning and Jameson hurriedly put together their camp. Wiping the sweat from his brow he turned to his wife and child holding out his arms and walked to them.

"Let me take him." He said. "I know this town, I'll get the right help and get him well again." Annalise, almost hesitantly, gave Milo to Jameson and touched a gentle hand to his cheek.

"I trust he will get better, please take this with you." Drawing her hand away from his face Annalise reached down at her side and grabbed a jingling pouch. She held it out for Jameson to see to which he nodded and she placed it in his bag for him. With a few more sweet kisses and worried goodbyes Jameson hurried off to town seeking out a doctor.

The town had changed since he’d last been there, he stood at the side of the road clueless on where to go. Looking left and right he saw no immediate clinic and hearing Milo cough in his arms forced him to choose a direction. When he turned the corner at the inn he found the church of the town standing proudly and he rushed up its steps to give its doors a hard knock. Without waiting for an answer he reached for the door handle and let himself in when he found it unlocked.

The inside of the church was empty not even the priest was there. The place was eerily quiet excluding the sound of Milo’s harsh coughing.

“I thought you were going to take the door down!” an elderly voice chimed behind him. Jameson turned on his heel and faced the priest of the church. He looked relieved to see them. “I need your help, or, rather my son needs your help.” He gestured to the shivering boy in his arms and the priest walked up to the both of them reaching out with a wrinkled hand. They touched Milo’s forehead and chest and closed their eyes, they seemed to be thinking about something. “Can you heal him?” Jameson finally asked. “I don’t have much money but I’m a hunter -- and a druid.” He said it almost like he’d forgotten. “If you can heal him my wife and I will be indebted to you.” The plea in his voice was equally as evident on his face and the priest saw that. He was desperate and the priest was sympathetic. They stepped away from Milo and Jameson looking at them with a sorrowful expression.

“Someone like me doesn’t have much use for a druid or a hunter these days, I’m afraid.” They said and Jameson immediately frowned. “For me this place is all I have... though it’s not without it’s own issues.” The priest gestured to the grandiosity of the church stopping for a moment to point out the leaky roof and the cracks in the walls.The priest walked away from them and toward an altar at the back opening up an old tome that was resting on it. Jameson approached him and was about to say something when the priest spoke again. “I can heal your son, completely cure his illness. It will cost you 400 gold pieces.” The priest tucked their hands behind their back and looked at Jameson. “Every bit I earn here goes into fixing this place, I’m sure you understand why I have to insist on money.”

Jameson frowned and thought about the cost. Even with the coin pouch Annalise had given him, their funds just weren’t enough to cover it all. “Please,” he begged, “there must be something you can do for him. I don’t have that much money right now. Just help him enough for me to find someone else to cure him, just enough to give me more time... he’s only three.” The priest looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded. “I can relieve him of his symptoms, that should give you the time you ask for. It will cost you 50 gold pieces.” The priest stood still looking between Milo and Jameson. “That’s fine,” he replied “I have that much. Whatever you can do is just fine.” The priest nodded and stepped forward to the pair reaching out again with a wrinkled hand resting it on top of Milo’s head and chest. A glow of magic appeared from under the priest’s hands and as quickly as they had appeared they were gone. Jameson looked at Milo and saw him resting peacefully, no longer shivering or coughing. However now that he was still, Jameson noticed Milo wheezed with every breath. “Gods be with you.” He said looking up from Milo to the priest and he reached into his pocket pulling out the gold. He handed it over to the priest who took it and put it in their own pocket. As Jameson turned to leave the priest called behind him: “There is a doctor who operates a few homes down from here, there is a sign outside. You can’t miss it!”

Jameson turned and gave the priest a smile and a thank-you and raced out the door nearly running into two citizens who were coming in for their morning prayers. “Sorry!” he said as he continued to run past them and down the street with Milo in his arms.

The door to the doctor’s clinic burst open and startled everyone on the other side of it. Jameson stood in the doorway panting looking around at every face none of them looking like a doctor.

“Sir, this is a recovery clinic you can’t just burst through the doors like that!” A voice came around the corner and Jameson smiled at the man in the white coat. “Are you a doctor?” he asked. “I am, can I help you with something?” The doctor raised a brow and looked at the weak child in Jameson’s arms. “Please, my son is sick. I took him to the priest but he only relieved his symptoms, I don’t have much money but I’m a druid -- and a hunter.” He said it almost as if he’d forgotten. “If you can heal him my wife and I will be indebted to you.” The doctor looked at him for a moment and after some time of considering he motioned for Jameson to come inside.

“Follow me, shut the door.” He said and he led Jameson past the patients and to the room at the back. Against the wall was an examination table to which the doctor told Jameson to lay Milo on and he did without hesitation. Right away the doctor took out his tools and checked Milo’s heartbeat, his temperature, and his breathing. After a few minutes the doctor turned to face Jameson “He looks very bad, but he isn’t going to die. It looks like whatever he had most of it has passed. Maybe that priest did more for you than just relieve some symptoms.” A wave of relief washed over Jameson like a tsunami. “He still needs a lot of rest and medicine but I can take care of him for you here.” Jameson felt stunned by the good news and was shocked about how much his sons illness had gone away. “How much?” He asked. “I won’t charge you for the medicine or the care.” The doctor said swiftly moving to his cabinet pulling out a mortal and pestle. Jameson felt confused and his feelings were written right on his face. “You said you were a druid, yes?” The doctor asked him as he tossed some herbs into the tiny bowl. “The local alchemist charges me too much in bulk for tonics and herbal remedies that I use. If you can get me the supplies instead I will take care of you and your family every time you need me.”

Jameson took no time to think about the offer and nodded his head. “Of course.” he said “just tell me what you need and when you need it by and my wife and I will make sure you get it.” The doctor smiled and nodded continuing to fix up a medicine for the weak boy at the table. “For now let’s take care of your son, we’ll talk business later.”

Back in the forest Annalise worked tirelessly with their usual trade partners taking extra long breaks to pray for Milo’s well-being. She prayed to Silvanus day and night pleading for her son to be saved. “He is your pupil, you’ve blessed him, please let him be saved. There is so much for him to learn, let him learn. Let him grow.” She tearfully prayed through the long days and was restless at night. Her worries never stopped until she was caught by surprise from a blue wisp in the air that conjured a sheet of paper and it floated down delicately resting in her lap. She held the parchment and as she read tears welled in her eyes as the last sentence caught her attention:

“He’s going to be just fine, he’s probably going to be able to come home soon. Wait for us. - J” 

Reading the last few sentences of the note made her cry and she thanked Silvanus over and over mumbling prayers and songs and everything that she could think of.

A week had passed and Milo looked better with each passing day. Jameson sat at the table at the end of Milo’s bed writing out a letter to Annalise telling her everything that had happened. Once he finished he rolled up the small paper and a spark of blue magic swirled around it burning it up in the air with the smoke travelling out of the window. “Telling the missus?” The voice startled him and Jameson looked up to see the doctor in the doorway holding Milo in his arms. “Milo’s much better now, I’d say he’s ready for you to take him home. He still needs to take some medicine for a while to make sure the sickness doesn’t come back, but after another week he should be just fine.” Jameson stood up and walked to pull Milo into his own grip who laughed at him when he saw him. “Thank you so much, Gods be with you, we truly owe you our service.” Jameson sounded as grateful as he looked and the doctor was appreciative of that.

Over the course of the afternoon they discussed business deals and trade offers as well as the list of herbs Milo would need to continue consuming until he was fully healthy again. After another day or so the pair left the clinic and made their way back to Annalise who was going to be more than delighted to see her happy, healthy, boy again.

Annalise kissed her boy with tear filled eyes when he ran up to her for the first time since he’d left. She scooped him up in a big hug and held him tightly kissing his cheeks, forehead, and nose. She told him how much she missed him and Milo laughed into the embrace. She looked up at Jameson who was watching them endearingly and she walked to him with Milo in her arms and welcomed him home with a kiss. She set Milo down and he ran off into the tents probably looking for his favorite blanket.

“Silvanus has saved him.” She said to her husband wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I prayed every day, and here he is hale and hearty.” “I would thank Silvanus too, I’m sure He had a hand in this somewhere.” Jameson took his wife’s hands and touched his forehead to hers. “Though for this, I think we give credit where credit is due.” It was at that moment Jameson reminded Annalise of the priest and doctor who helped nurse Milo back to health. She nodded and smiled and walked back to the tent to see Milo cuddling with the heavy blankets in a nest of pillows. They smiled at each other and went about their usual duties.

As Annalise prepared a meal over the fire Jameson talked with her about the business deal he’d made, about the plants and herbs he’d need to gather for the doctor, and the plentiful basket he wanted to give the priest for giving Milo more than what he’d paid for. They came to their agreements and went about their business from then on. 

Milo continued to get better and recovered completely from his sickness, resuming his druidic studies as soon as he was able to. His parents would later tell him of this happening, since was too sick to remember this incident happening but he has vague images in his head of the doctor and his clinic. He will always remember the lengths his parents went through to save his life and he uses this as inspiration to help other people and animals in need.

[milotalks]

Hollow is the Soul pt. 3

Continued from [this post]

At some point during the ride Milo had drifted off to sleep his gentle snores blending in with the trotting of the horses hooves and the creaking of the caravan. When the caravan had stopped at its destination Milo did not stir, he continued to sleep even as all the other adventurers hurried off. A light tapping on his shoulder, continuous and bothersome, managed to wake him up. Milo sat up quickly as his eyes adjusted to the figure close to him. A comforting hand gripped his shoulder and he heard a calm voice speak to him.

“It’s alright friend, we’re just getting off.” Valor smiled at him with kind eyes and he eased away from Milo to give him room to collect himself and follow everyone off the caravan.

“We’re... at the border?” Milo rubbed his tired eyes then looked at Valor.

“Indeed we are friend, come everyone is waiting outside.” Valor turned to step off and Milo grabbed his staff and touched his bag making sure it was there and stood to follow Valor.

The bright light from the outside was a relief to Milo’s eyes only after his eyes had adjusted to it. Standing at the back of the caravan he saw guards patrolling the area and inspecting other vehicles that stopped at the border as well letting off their own passengers. The guards each wore chainmail and leather jerkins all of them also had a tabard with a symbol of something Milo did not recognize. 

As he stepped to the ground there was a guard who approached his party, she was a dark skinned woman in full chainmail with daggers on both her sides and a painted shield upon her back. Milo held his staff close as she stood in front of them carelessly flipping through the pages on her clipboard not paying much attention to them.

“Please prepare yourselves for inspection.” She said to them and finally looked at them to see if they understood her direction. No one said anything and stood and nodded at her and each other in response the orc sisters casting glances at everyone around them as Milo did the same. He felt a little uncomfortable with official things like this.

“The city of Neverwinter thanks you for your cooperation.” The woman stands looking from her clipboard to the party and Milo felt uneasy under her gaze even though he’d done nothing wrong. Eventually a tall man walked up to them not looking like one of the normal guards. He had gleaming silver plates with jewels embedded into it creating an intricate design. Milo thought he must be important.

“Commander.” The woman with the clipboard greeted the jewel encrusted man with a light bow and a salute passing the clipboard over to him. The man looks at the clipboard and then to the group of adventurers in front of him.

“Alright, let’s get started. I’m sure you all have a long journey ahead of you.” One by one the flashy guard called out the names of their party.

“Casia and Hyacinth Myersdraw, of the Myersdraw family, may I see your papers please?” The two orc sisters walked up to the guard Hyacinth politely handing over her document while Casia lazily held it in his general direction. The guard took both sheets and after a hum and a nod he spoke again “can I see your signet rings?” Without hesitation Hyacinth showed him the ring on her finger while Casia took a few extra moments to dig through her bag to find hers.

As Milo watched this go on he felt a nudge in his shoulder and turned to see Valor leaning close to him. “Your papers, do you have them?” Milo looked confused but them remembered the invitation he’d first received. He rummaged through his bag hurriedly and pulled out a sheet and showed it to Valor who quickly looked it over. “You have to sign this, my friend, here.” He dug through one of his pockets and pulled out a stick of charcoal, Milo guessed. Valor passed the paper and charcoal back to Milo and he scrawled out a messy version of his name. When he was done he handed the writing stick back to Valor who received it with a smile.

When Milo turned his attention back to the guard he had nodded the sisters along. He looked at his clipboard then up at Milo, back down at his clipboard, and up at Milo again. It made him  very uncomfortable and he held his staff close to his body accidentally crumpling the small sheet of paper in his fingers.

“I only see three people on this list, what’s your name?” This was not a question Milo had prepared for and he trembled under the guards eyes unknowing how to answer. “Uh, um...” he stuttered, “I’m M-Milo...” he spoke quietly. The guard hummed and flipped through all of his papers “Your name is not on the list.” Milo’s expression was worried and thought maybe after all he wasn’t meant to have received the note to cross the border. He didn’t look the guard in the eyes and he looked at anything else trying to come up with something to say.

“He’s not going to be on the list.” He heard suddenly and turned to see who the voice belonged to. The driver had come around to the back of the caravan to examine his cart. “He was a recent addition, he’s not going to be there.” The driver then moved back to the front of his vehicle and out of view. The guard hummed at the driver and looked at Milo again “Can I see your papers then?” He held out his hand.

Milo nervously walked up to the guard and gently put the wrinkled paper in his hand. The guard looked it over and gave another hum and a nod of approval.

“Everything seems to be in order, you may go.” He nods Milo along as he did with Casia and Hyacinth and Milo moved to stand near them waiting for Valor together.

Valor stood calm and ready with his paper already in hand as he heard his name called. His procedure went similarly to Casia and Hyacinth: check papers, check ring, move on. That’s what was supposed to happen however Valor got stopped as he was told to move on.

“Hold a second, Commander.” a new voice rang out and Milo turned to see a man dressed in a long black coat, wearing a vest, tri-cornered hat, and tie. Milo noticed his hair was a silver colour and it was braided down to his shoulders. The stranger walked up to Valor and the guard and sniffed the air between them.

“Turn out your pockets.” He spoke aggressively and looked at Valor with a certain kind of anger Milo could not understand. Valor seemed as surprised as Milo and the others were but he complied and revealed to them an orange he’d had in one of his pockets. The strange man snatched it from his hand and sniffed the orange.

“I picked that fresh off a tree on the way here...” Valor’s words seemed true but he looked nervous and Milo worried for him unsure of what to do if Valor were to get arrested. What would become of the beast he’d told them about? How would they know where to find it? He looked to the orc sisters who watched the situation without discomfort.

The man crushed the orange in his hands and Valor stopped trying to speak out his explanation. “Contraband.” The man said aggressively and Valor spoke out in his own defense his nervousness deceiving how strong he aimed to look. “I’ll h-have you know I’ve carried p-plenty of fruit across this--”

“You nobles think you can do whatever you want.” He interrupted Valor. “I’ll have you flayed alive for this.”

“I-I..” Valor seemed at a loss for words and Milo tempted to step in however just before he could the man lifted up his hat and Valor seemed to relax at his face.

“O-oh, Syngarmer, it’s you...” Valor rested a hand over his heart and breathed a long sigh. He then reached over and slapped the man’s arm “don’t do that!” he said with a smile “you had me going there.”

“Has it been so long you can’t even recognize your own cousin’s voice?” He pretended to be hurt at the thought of being forgotten. Milo looked at Casia and Hyacinth and saw Casia smiling at the man, did she know him? Milo looked at everyone and breathed a sigh to relax his nerves.

Syngarmer turned his attention to the orc sisters and walked over to greet Casia and Hyacinth. “Miss Myersdraw.” He nodded at Casia with a smile and she bowed at him with a smile “Master.” she spoke sarcastically and Syngarmer waved his hand “none of that please.” He laughed “You are just as capable a hunter as me.”

“What are you doing here?” Valor suddenly asked as their greetings concluded. “I didn’t take your order to be so intent on protecting the border.”

“I originally came here to see off one of my fellow blood hunters.” He nodded to Casia “There’s a dragon flying around, we don’t know much about it so I figured I’d help out here and say goodbye to Casia before I head out to investigate. Where are you all off to?” Syngarmer inquired about the party’s reason to traveling the border and Valor explained to him the reason for their visit, exactly everything he’d explained to them all on the caravan.

“I see.” Syngarmer said then looking away, he seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it. “Well, good luck to you.” He walked away from everyone after that and once he was gone Valor pulled out a white handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. Valor rejoins the others waiting at the side for him “Well now that that’s over let’s head back into the cart and be on our way.” Hearing that confused Milo, were they not already at their destination? He guessed this must have been a checkpoint instead.

One by one they each climbed back into the cart sitting in the same order as they had when they arrived. After some finals checks the cart was set in motion again and no one said anything along the way. The bouncing of the caravan relaxed Milo and he eased himself into comfort as they made their way to their actual final destination.

To be continued...

[milotalks]

An absolutely wonderfully, and gifted, artist took this commission from me of my Druid!! Thank you so much @Ofthefaintheart for such a beautiful portrait of Milo!!! He’s absolutely everything I thought he would be and more...

Ofthefaintheart is an AMAZING and LOVELY person to work with, I really recommend checking out their work on twitter and commissioning them for youself!

>> https://twitter.com/ofthefaintheart <<

[milotalks]

Wild Shape (2/2)

On the way to their usual practice spot Jameson Greenwillow spent the time telling Milo all about the special Druidic ability he called “Wild Shape”. He told Milo that most Druids know how to use it, and that some Archdruids like him and his wife can shapeshift into more than just woodland creatures. However, he did let Milo know that it takes a Druid of a special mastery level to turn into just about anything, even taking on the appearance of a person if they wanted to.

Milo was awed by the information his father was telling him, he began to worry that he couldn’t do it right. His father touched a hand to his shoulder and told Milo that he believed he could, therefore Milo believed he could too.

“So... what do I do?” Milo asked as he stood there awkwardly swinging his arms forward and back.

“Just what I said, Milo, you have to feel it in here.” His father poked him in the chest and it made Milo giggle. “Feel the energy in the air around you, just like how we borrow the energy of nature around us to cast spells, let that flow through you and feel what is most natural to you. Once you get more experience you can turn into anything, but for now start with what you feel.” His father handed Milo a small plant and backed away to give him some space and sat down with his legs crossed watching him patiently.

Milo felt nervous but understood what he was supposed to do. He cleared his head of his doubts and sat down on his knees putting his palms to the ground and feeling the grass blades between his small fingers, holding the bushel of mistletoe his father had given him tightly in his grip. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his surroundings listening to the sound of the river and the leaves rustling through the wind in the trees. He focused on the grass at his fingertips and smelled the Earth of the muddied river shore.

He sat like this for a while and his father just watched him, studying him with a unique interest. After a few moments Milo sighed and looked up at his father who said nothing and motioned with his hand for him to keep going. Milo frowned and started again, trying to focus on everything until he realized maybe that was the problem.

One by one he let the sounds go and he let himself drift into the energy currents of the forest, letting it carry him like a leaf drifting downstream. Images flashed in his mind as he sought out a wild shape, he let the feeling of his body go and drifted in peace through the energy that pulsed through him.

Jameson sat still watching him even more intently, seeing the moment of realization that his incredibly gifted son had on how to complete the spell. He muttered words in Druidic to help edge Milo along giving him things to latch on to in his mind. His hand rested over his chin and mouth as he sat watching and thinking seeing the golden magic around Milo dancing and curling like the embers of a fire flying into the night sky. He was sure at this point Milo had the idea of what to do, but he began to doubt he could carry out the spell on his first attempt. He waited for Milo to drop the spell, waited to see how far he would get before it exhausted his small body too much. Still, part of him wanted to see him succeed.

It was not long before Milo was covered in a bright golden light that slowly melted away to reveal a small wolf pup laying on the ground. Jameson stood quickly and didn’t move for a second taking in the situation and understanding that his son completed the spell and fully transformed himself right before his eyes. “By the Gods...” he muttered to himself and he walked over to the sleeping pup crouching beside it hovering his hands over Milo before reaching down to touch him.

Without warning Milo picked his head up and tried to stand fumbling over onto his father’s lap at first. Jameson picked up his head and looked at him in the eyes and saw the familiar bright emerald eyes of his son. He looked at the rest of him and saw that the pup’s colour was a light brown, the same as Milo’s hair colour. He looked at Milo’s face again and when he did the pup tried to stand again, this time able to do it without trouble. He walked away from his father then turned around and circled himself, almost like he was chasing his tail. Then he jumped to face his father and ran up to him pouncing on his with his little paws.

Jameson smiled and pet Milo between his ears. “Your mother’s really gonna get a kick out of this.” he told him. Milo’s tail wagged and he jumped around. Jameson was impressed that Milo could do it right the first time and wondered how far he could push his son. “But first you have to go back to being you.” Jameson told him testing to see the strength of Milo's power. Hearing that made Milo stop and he seemed like he was thinking about something. Suddenly his ears fell flat and he let out a soft howl, Jameson knew this was Milo not understanding how to go back.

He held up both of his hands to calm Milo before he started to panic and he moved closer to him. “Just do as you did before, you can go back it’s much more of a natural feeling of being you than someone else.” He sat next to Milo and waited to see what he would do. It took a well experienced Druid to shapeshift at will, he wondered if Milo could despite being so young yet so gifted.

Inside of Milo’s head panic swirled with uncertainty, everything looked and felt different to him. He tried to stay calm and listened to his father’s words as he focused on trying to go back. His father sat next to him the entire time and for a while nothing happened. Milo looked at his father and softly howled again, he felt stuck, he felt like he couldn’t figure out how to feel the energy of the forest in this new body of his.

Jameson comforted him whispering and cooing in his ear gentle things that Milo needed to hear. Though he wouldn’t show it Jameson also worried for his son, but he knew after some time his son would go back to normal on his own for the spell would wear out, but he just had to see if Milo could change at will.

After moments of relentless focusing and trying Milo just couldn’t go back to normal. Jameson sighed and Milo howled out a cry, Jameson held his son close and whispered to him, “Don’t worry, you’ll go back to normal, the spell will wear off but it’ll take some time. It won’t be for more than one bell, alright?” Milo perked his ears up at that and puffed air out of his snout as a sigh.

Jameson smiled suddenly and picked up his son to carry him back home. “Until then, what do you say we surprise your mother?” Milo looked at his father curiously and wagged his tail with delight. He barked out a response that only made his father laugh more as they made their way to the camp.

[Part 1]

[milotalks]

Wild Shape (1/2)

A young boy sat himself below the mossiest tree in Tethir quietly practicing his spells by sprouting the tiniest flowers on the trees roots. The sun shone through the leaves, the spots of light danced on his skin and over his clothes and the warm summer breeze kissed his cheeks as it blew by. He sat that way for a while humming a song to himself, one of his favorites, that his mother would always hum to him - except of course he couldn’t quite remember some of the notes.

As the young Druid sprinkled his magic over the mossy roots of the tree a noise caught his attention in the background. He looked over his shoulder to see a large Elk approaching him, a brilliant bull, with large widespread antlers. It was the largest animal he had ever seen before and he stood up to greet it when it reached him at the base of the tree. He stared up in awe, emerald green eyes glittering with wonder, he reached a small hand up reaching for it’s nose. The bull dipped it’s head down and bumped the boy’s hand who let out a gentle gasp of surprise.

“Milo...”

His name? The young Druid turned his head to the side and ran his fingers up the snout of the Elk wondering about what he’d heard. Maybe his mother was calling for him? He looked around and saw no one nearby, it was just them under the shade of the tree and the same light summer breeze blowing by.

Milo continued to pet the Elk and he smiled as he felt the softness of the fur, how quiet the creature stood before him. Something else nagged at him though, something didn’t feel right. It looked and stood like an Elk but Milo couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity as rested his hand on it’s nose. He looked carefully at the creature's face seeing the large rack of antlers down to the white patch of fur on it’s nose and he looked to the side to see its eyes. The Elk looked at him, too, with a kind of familiarity but Milo was certain he’d never seen an Elk this close up before. Something else he noticed was its eye colour, it wasn’t brown like he’d known an Elk’s eyes to be but this Elk had eyes that were blue, not a bright or dark blue, but a kind blue that looked at him with love and kindness. He felt protected under it’s gaze, he felt like he knew those eyes.

“Milo...”

He heard his name again and this time he didn’t look away to find a voice. Maybe it was crazy, maybe he just didn’t know enough yet, but at six years of age he realized he knew this Elk. He didn’t know how but he could feel the connection they had, he felt the kindness between them. He stood in front of the creature and let his hands fall to his sides. For a minute they stood their not saying anything, they just looked at each other, understanding each other. Finally, Milo opened his mouth to speak “Papa?” It came out like a question but he knew it in his heart that it was more of a proclamation. He didn’t know how he knew it, but somehow this Elk was his father.

The Elk closed its kind blue eyes and opened them again slowly. It looked away from Milo and walked behind him to the tree and it kept walking all the way around the tree until it was out of the young boy’s sight. Milo stood and watched and waited for it to come around the other side but when it didn’t he ran to the tree and peered around the back frowning when he didn’t see the bull anymore. He walked all the way behind the tree following it’s footsteps and saw no trace of it anywhere. It moved so slowly, how could it have gotten away so fast?

A leaf crunched behind him and he turned quickly and saw nothing, he walked around to the front of the tree and still saw nothing. He walked himself around the front of the tree in a circle until he heard another leaf crunch. He spun around and ran to the back of the tree only to find, again, nothing. He was getting frustrated and confused, was the Elk still around? What was he hearing? He turned to run back to the front of the large tree but when he did a familiar figure was caught tiptoeing over the trees roots hugging the tree behind him with a coy smile.

“Papa!” The young boy cried and he ran to his father who let out a joyful laugh and spread out his arms to scoop up his son and hug him tight. Milo laughed as he was lifted into the air and he nuzzled his face into his father’s cheek.

“Were you the Elk, papa?” Milo asked with excited eyes.

“I was worried you couldn’t tell.” His father replied with a chuckle and a smile putting Milo back down on the ground. He knelt down and rested his arms on his knee looking at Milo with a loving expression.

“How did you do that?” Milo asked his father “Is it something I can do too?”

“Actually Milo, it’s something I’m going to teach you do to today.” His father shrugged his shoulders “it might take a couple of tries, but I’m certain you’ll figure it out.” His father smiled at him and he rose to his feet holding out his hand for Milo to take.

“Can mama do it too?” Milo asked as he grabbed onto his father’s fingers and walked with him heading in a direction of a river Milo knew was nearby. Him and his father usually practiced magic there.

“Of course she can, this is something most Druids know how to do, Milo.” His father smiled as they walked and Milo felt more excited with each step they took.

[Continued]

[milotalks]

Memories 1/?

Young Milo sat snug next to his mother watching her as she sprinkled herbs into the pot of stew she had over their campfire. "Did you review your studies today?" She asked him sitting back on her knees. "No." Milo replied sadly thinking his mother would be disappointed for skipping out on reviewing defensive spells for the day. She instead looked like she was pleased. "You're such an honest boy." Annalise Greenwillow spoke suddenly with a tender smile. "You are too kind for this cruel world." She ruffled the hair on her son's head and leaned in to give him a kiss on his forehead. Milo loved making his mother proud and enjoyed seeing her smile light up the darkest parts of the realm. "You should always tell the truth," she told him moving her hand to touch his cheek. "Unless you think someone will get hurt if you do, please always be my honest boy." She leaned in to boop her nose into his and he chuckled. "Yes, mama." Milo smiled and reached his small arms out to hug her. She pulled him into a loving embrace allowing him to sit on her lap while they stirred the pot of stew together. "You do still need to review, when papa comes back we will be practicing." She smiled down at Milo who wiggled out of his mother's lap saying "okay, mama." He went to find his journal and began practicing some spells, little flecks of golden light trickling down his small hands. Annalise watched him quietly as she stirred their dinner only talking when she wanted to correct his hand movements.

[milotalks]

Hollow is the Soul pt. 2

Continued from [this post]

Milo sat comfortably in the back of the caravan lulling himself to sleep by the sound of his own quiet breathing and the gentle breeze that came through every now and then. His staff rested between his legs and against his shoulder just as he always liked it to when he was in a strange place. Knowing it’s close by when he needs it brings him a sense of comfort. He was nearly asleep when the fabric of the convoy he sat in was pulled back and the other adventurers scrambled in to take a seat. 

“After you, please.” Milo heard Valor’s kind voice chime through the opening and he immediately sat up and moved himself over to allow room for others to sit holding his staff close to his chest.

One by one all the adventurers with matching tickets like his clambered inside the vehicle. The two orcs he saw outside now sat in front of him and with Valor being the last to enter moved in and sat next to Milo. The young Druid shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of the nobleman’s foot against his boot but with it being such a small space he allowed himself to deal with it. Once everyone was seated a thump was heard at the back and the convoy departed Neverwinter on it’s journey across the Eastern border.

The time spent was quiet and no one looked at anyone, at least from what Milo could tell since he was looking at his hands most of the time. He played with the wood on his staff spinning it between his fingertips and not before long a flask was eased into his view by Valor. Milo looked to the flask then slowly at the man handing it to him who kept a kind smile. 

“Would you like some tea?” he asked generously “I can assure you it’s very good.” Despite being tempted with his favourite drink Milo politely declined with a gentle shake of his head. The man seemed content with just that and waved the flask at the others offering them the same only to be met with more rejections. Valor shrugged his shoulders and tucked the flask away after having a swig and again the caravan was silent, though it would not last minutes before Valor spoke up again breaking the silence.

“So what brings you all across the border?” It was a general question asked at anyone willing to answer. Milo tucked himself away into the furthest corner of the caravan not wanting to speak.

“I’m just traveling to the next city.” One of the orcs spoke up with a confident sounding voice. 

“The next city? What’s there for you?” Valor seemed very interested.

“I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” She spoke plainly and at this Milo turned his head to see her. She seemed just like what he’d heard about most other orcs, the one who sat next to he guessed had the same personality however they did share the orc trait of green skin and large front teeth. To Milo, they almost looked the same with the exception of their clothes and how they wore their hair though it was a little hard to see clearly.

“That’s alright. I understand.” Valor sat back comfortably and after receiving no other responses he chimed in: “Well, I’m crossing the border because of my Uncle, they have been having problems in the township and I think my Uncle may have passed.” After hearing this Milo glanced over to Valor to listen to the rest of what he had to say.

After a breath of silence Valor spoke again, “I received a letter explaining to me his township has fallen into ruin and that he would not be alive to see it fixed. I am going there to see if there’s anything I can do, judging by the contents of the letter it seems there might be a beast of some sort that might be lurking around causing all of this.” He looked around hopefully to Milo and to the other strangers who sat around him.

“I will need some help with something like this, I could use some good mercenaries. If... you all have no prior engagements I should like to ask you for your assistance. There will be money involved, of course.” He clasped his hands together and sat rather stoically waiting patiently for any kind of response at all. Milo listened attentively through his speech and at the sound of a mysterious beast he was the first to answer.

“I’ll help.” he was quiet but certain and Valor looked at him with a particular kindness in his blue eyes.

“Wonderful! Anyone else?” Valor looked to the rest of the group and received a no from the other stranger with them, but the two orc woman seemed like they were thinking on it. After a minute they both agreed and Valor clapped his hands together happy to receive help on his important mission.

“Now then, since it seems we will all be working together I’d like to formally introduce myself to you all as Valor Derio, a noble of Kilgale.” He spoke with a hand over his heart and Milo was sure if he were standing he’d be bowing slightly as well. Milo didn’t understand what being a noble meant, but he knew they were very important and in the past his parents worked with many of them.

“My name is Hyacinth Myersdraw of Myersdraw Manor.” One of the orc women spoke up and before she could say anything else Valor seemed pleased to hear what she said.

“It’s a pleasure to be working with the Myersdraw family! I know your lineage to be filled with honorable men and women.”

“Thank you.” Hyacinth bowed her head at his comment and in doing so Milo saw she wore her hair in a high ponytail.

“My name’s Casia Myersdraw, I’m a bounty hunter.” Milo could now see the two orcs who traveled together were sisters of the same family which explained their similar appearances.

“Casia Myersdraw? Two members of the noble family, it’s an honour.” Valor bowed his head respectfully at the two before him and Casia looked disgusted.

“It’s unfortunate.” She crossed her arms and turned away from her sister. At this Valor turned to look at Milo who had been sitting quietly in his corner. He sat up knowing he would have to speak but still feeling very reluctant to do so.

“And you, my friend, what may we call you?” All eyes were on the young Druid now and his nerves wracked up again. He grabbed his staff pulling it as close as he could to him and took a minute to find his voice.

“I’m Milo...” he muttered hoping it would be loud enough to hear.

“Milo?” Valor repeated loudly for the other two to hear. “Well it’s nice to meet you and I’m glad to have a Druid among us.” Milo looked at Valor when he said that with a small happy smile. No matter how nervous he gets it will always be hard for him to hide his Druid pride. Valor sat upright and greeted his new party members with a smile and let out a relaxed breath. 

They made idle conversation of this and that and found out a little bit more about Valor and each other in the rest of the time it took for them to reach the other side of the border. Milo had great interest in the beast Valor spoke of and tried to find out what he could with asking as little questions as possible. He was unsure of the journey that lay ahead of him and the rest of the adventurers but he knew he would try to help Valor as much as he could to the best of his ability.

To be continued...

[milotalks]

Hollow is the soul pt. 1

It was normal for Milo Greenwillow to travel outside of his home to different cities and nearby forests. He traveled North spending some time in Velen before continuing his journey with no destination. He set himself on a personal mission to figure out what happened to his parents, however anything that crossed his path in that time of searching would draw his attention first. Milo helped anyone that needed him forest and folk, big or small, he lent a hand to anyone willing to accept a Druid’s help.

Since leaving his forested home he had no permanent residence and usually bounced around within an area before moving on. This kind of relocation made it hard for anyone to track him which made it suspicious when a mail carrier looking rather knightly approached him with an envelope.

“Are you Druid Milo Greenwillow?” The knightly man asked with no emotion in his voice or on his face. Milo felt uneasy around him and wondered how he knew who he was. He shrugged up his shoulders and allowed the large collar of his poncho to hide his mouth and nose. He nodded his head and looked away from the man clutching his wooden staff close.

“This is for you. Please arrive at the scheduled time.” He was assertive and promptly took his leave not seeming to care for Milo’s discomfort or to see if he truly was the one who was meant to receive that note. Once Milo was alone again he looked at the paper in his fabric wrapped hands and turned the envelope over examining each side. It had no writing on it. He opened it slowly and carefully as if the paper would somehow tear if he mishandled it even a little. Pulling out its contents he found an invitation for a caravan that was scheduled to leave at a precise time and day. He knew this caravan in particular was for passing through country borders and if he didn’t have the invitation he wouldn’t be allowed to cross. The note specified his name so for sure he was meant to receive that invitation, he just didn’t understand why. Deciding not to question it seemed to be the best course of action for him. He made a point to finish up the work he had going on and hurry to meet the caravan as it would be leaving in a few weeks.

Milo said goodbye to the merchant as he tucked away the remaining herbs he thought he might need for a journey across the border. He still found no answer to why he had received the invitation but assumed all would be made clear once he reached the caravan. Milo walked along the dirt path and only stopped for a moment to feed a stray cat looking for food. Eventually, the druid reached the caravan stop and saw some other unique looking adventurers who he assumed would be riding with him.

Milo stopped walking to look at the crowd and see exactly what he was getting himself in to. He noticed of all the travelers there were two orcs and a noble looking man introducing himself to them. He seemed kind and friendly and shared a laugh with one of the orcs he was talking to and only for a moment Milo wondered what they were talking about.

Gathering his courage Milo nervously walked to the convoy and tried to walk past the crowd to investigate its interior. Unfortunately for him he did not get very far before he was tapped on the shoulder by the kind looking man he just saw. Milo hesitantly turned around and tried not to look at the man but a quick glance allowed him to realize he’d seen this man before but only briefly when they passed each other at the nearby market.

“Hello there, friend!” He spoke happily, “it seems we will be riding together, I think it’s best we introduce ourselves so the ride will be more comfortable. I’m Valor Derio.” He stood like a nobleman and held a hand over his heart when he talked. He dressed in decorative coat and bowed slightly towards Milo as a gesture giving him room to introduce himself. Milo could only stare shyly with nervousness wracking his system. He clutched his staff tightly close to his chest and raised his shoulders trying to hide himself. The young Druid still couldn’t find the courage to look the man now known to him as Valor but he did try to say his name which unfortunately only came out as whispers and nervous moans.

Valor seemed to pick up on the Druid’s shyness and pat a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That’s alright!” Milo jumped at his touch “I won’t make you say anything you aren’t comfortable saying.” He smiled tenderly and allowed Milo to be on his way. The Druid nodded his head and meekly stepped back to examine the caravan like he originally intended. He could hear the others carrying on their conversations but he climbed inside the vehicle hoping not to catch anyone else’s attention.

To be continued...

[milotalks]

Mrs. Greenwillow

Annalise Greenwillow was a very well researched, intuitive Druid whose intelligence made up for a mild lack of charm. She spent most of her days taking care of her husband and son as well as keeping a watchful eye over their camp. She had regularly motherly duties but her most important job of all was teaching Milo how to reach his potential and push further beyond that. Practices like the ones Annalise always prepared for Milo were never easy, but she was always there with him every step of the way to ensure he would succeed.

They sat together in front of their tent with a small fire roaring and an iron pot resting comfortably above it. The air around them smelled of various herbs and spices and the pot was bubbling with their almost ready-to-be-served dinner. Milo and Annalise sat together talking and reviewing things Milo is well acquainted with at this point in his young life. 

“Let me see what you’ve done.” She spoke with a calm and gentle voice as she reached her hand out for her son’s journal. He confidently gave it to her and waited patiently for her response about what he had scrawled for her.

She looked carefully at all of the sigils he had sketched onto one page. “Life, night and day... seems like you’ve got it all here.” She looked up and smiled at him “I’m proud.”

Milo adjusted his seating position and smiled brightly at his mother, his favorite thing was making her happy. “Am I gonna learn more soon?” he asked her, excited to move on in his studies.

She smiled as she closed the leather bound journal and handed it back to the small boy. “As Silvanus knows you are indeed ready to continue.” She spoke with confidence and Milo was very pleased at this answer. “Your studies will advance from here and I will teach you everything I know and maybe you will even teach me something in return.” She chuckled as she spoke turning herself to reach for the worn cloth nearby and a spoon to stir their dinner.

Silence fell over the moment as rich thyme and lemongrass filled the air. Milo looked at his mother while she worked, the smile on her face never seemed to fade. Thoughts came through his mind, the same intrusive thoughts that have always come before.

“I’m not gonna fail Silvanus, am I?” he thought aloud to himself and his mother heard it. She tried not to frown around him but she truly disliked hearing her son doubt himself. She moved from cooking and scooted towards Milo. She took his hands and held them securely, lightly rubbing his small knuckles with her thumbs.

“I’ve not seen a Druid so pure like you in a very long time, you have so much potential. I know I’ve heard Silvanus whisper your name to me, you are a very special one, Milo.” She smiled warmly to him and he seemed convinced. She always told him he was special, hand picked by Silvanus himself to make the world a better place and to become a Arch Druid. She felt like there was something special planned for him, and as much as Silvanus would allow she will let her son grow and learn and she would be there to teach him everything.

Milo smiled and nodded with understanding, he was afraid of disappointing his parents but he trusted their words. He tried not to question why they believed this way, but as he aged he would doubt himself less and less. It was never because of arrogance but simply because it was how he was raised to think. At this young of an age Milo made a promise to himself: He would become a powerful Druid one day and he believed when he grew up just a bit more he would find his place in Tethir.

Milo held the worn out leather journal in his cloth wrapped hands, he gingerly flipped through it’s pages recalling the memories held within each ink stain. He missed his parents very much, his mother most of all. He wondered if she would be proud of him now and he wondered what she would think of him. His lower lip quivered as he tore himself up inside with emotion and guilt from things that were out of his control.

Continuing to flip through each page he reached the break from his childhood studies to current years, and briefly reviewed all the new things he’d learned. Nearly about to close the book one last thing caught his mind, a note he always knew was there -- a last message from his beloved mother. He smiled as he read her words written in his journal just for him to find. Remembering the day he found it a tear slipped down his cheek that he brushed away with the sleeve of his coat. He smiled as he closed and wrapped up the old leather journal and tucked it away into his bag.

A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back into a mossy tree closing his eyes for a moment to relax and to remember. He was sure he would find his parents one day no matter how long it took. He opened his eyes to see a critter scurrying up to him with some berries in it’s tiny paws. He thanked the little one and carefully took the berries leaving some for his new friend to also enjoy. A wolf walked up not too soon after with a bloody mouth and a dead rabbit in it’s jaws. The little critter shrieked and ran up Milo’s arm to the safety of his shoulder. He thanked the wolf for the meat and invited him to stay for some. He did not.

As Milo prepared his food he thought back to the note at the very end of his book and it rang out in his thoughts like an old church bell. His mother’s words were never easy to forget and he was grateful to be able to remember her voice so he could play it back to himself over and over.

[milotalks]

Mr. Greenwillow

Jameson Greenwillow was a wise and patient Druid who made the most out of the time he had to spend within a day. Since his son, Milo, was born the majority of his time went in to teaching the young boy survival techniques, living off the land, taking what you need to get by and never more. It began with words and as Milo aged it gradually became a physical exercise. Milo had a difficult time trying to grasp these necessary concepts of survival but Jameson was always just patient enough to explain things for however long he needed to.

“Ah, you’re right on time. Come here!” Mr. Greenwillow beckoned for young Milo to come close to him one morning of the Summer Solstice. He had just taken down a small creature to be made for consumption later and Jameson was taking this opportunity to ease his gentle son into this unfortunate, but essential, part of a hunter and gatherer’s life.

Milo approached his father hurriedly and upon seeing the animal writhing in pain on the forest floor his face paled a sickly colour and his expression was sorrowful.

“I gotta cure the wounds!” the young child exclaimed and knelt next to his father preparing to rip a bit of fabric from his own clothes. Mr. Greenwillow immediately put a stern but comforting hand over his son’s and hushed him.

“There are things in life, Milo,” he started taking a breath “Some things that we must allow nature to handle. For us, we need to survive and grow strong too.” He gestured to the trees hanging over them, “everything in this forest blooms and grows tall, but when it’s time comes...” he turned his attention to a dying plant next to them “it needs to die in order to make room for new things to grow in it’s place. He removed his hand from Milo’s and looked his son’s eyes seeing them tearful but understanding.

“I’ve asked you to come to show you this part of life, not all wounds can be healed, Milo.” He spoke a little more sternly but kept his tone level. He put a hand on the weak, squirming creature before them and handed Milo his hunting knife. “I want you to take a generous part in the way of life, that you only do this when you absolutely need to.”

Milo took the knife with shaking hands and shuddering breath. His body trembled as he held the hilt of the knife with both hands. Tears began to drip down his cheeks as he looked between his father and the defenseless animal.

“I don’t think... I can’t...” his words were sad and choked them out in pieces, he felt frozen in time unable to move. His father looked at him carefully, with understanding, he smiled a kind smile to his son and placed his hand over Milo’s. With gentle movements he carried their hands across the wounded creature and tilted the blade towards its neck. Milo began to whimper and his father hushed him gently. With a quick jolt the blade found its purpose and silenced the animal. 

Milo quickly pulled his hands to himself and cried into his hands, his father moving over to pull him close and pet his head tenderly. He closed his eyes knowing Milo was still not ready for something like this, and after a minute of gently caressing his child he sent him off with his mother so he could finish the job himself.

“You did well, Milo, I’m sorry to have to teach you this but you need to know it. Maybe when you’re older we’ll try this again.” he gave a reassuring smile that Milo chose to ignore. He shook his head as he started off back to their small camp, “I don’t think I can... you didn’t hear...” 

Mr. Greenwillow was unsure of what that meant, he knew his son had a minor ability to talk with animals but he was ignorant to how knowledgeable Milo actually was at this age. When he was finally alone the wise and patient Druid thanked the the lifeless animal for it’s flesh and later that evening he set aside time for an extra period of worship to Silvanus -- hopeful that Milo will one day learn what it means to truly live off the land and be thankful for the many things the Forest of Tethir will provide for him.