On her way through Cloakwood, as her path usually takes her, the druidess Amaranthe
slows her step to take stock of things that become odd to her suddenly - the tension of the forest inhabitants, the lack of birdsong. She frowns, her black brows weaving together at the off-ness
that suddenly floods her awareness. She lifts her nose to scent, picking up blood and the musk of anger. She sets herself to the task of tracking the unnatural association of creatures and their unnatural taste for blood.
DM Hera wrote:In the Cloakwood deep with in the shadows you discover a makeshift alter of black and crumbled stone to some depraved Orcish god. Here are the remains of fruits altered by dark magics, corrupted and designed to turn these once friendly woodland creatures hostile. The Process used is likely unable to be replicated by another but with study one can learn it was foul forbidden magics at play. With the discovery of this alter and its destruction the threat to the wood will pass.
Upon finding the vile altar and giving it a and the surrounding area a thorough study, Amaranthe
speaks a word of prayer and power to call down a divine Flamestrike
upon the spot, ensuring that only the altar and its offerings burn, and not the untouched surrounding area. She stands watching the fire as the light of it glints in her amber gaze, anger apparent. When the fire diminishes and there is no trace left of the source of the imbalance in Cloakwood, she goes to make a report to the Circle.