Dungeons and Dragons: Wrath of the Oak Father ( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
The sudden knock at the cathedral doors was not registered at first by the gathered religious figures. They were too enthralled with their own arguments and proclamations to hear the soft knockings against the ancient wooden doors.
A second time there came soft knocks from the door; yet just as before no one heard their announcing noise and continued on with their discussions. From across the lands they had gathered in this holiest of places, the first church of their faith, to discuss the future of their order. What lands to be sought, what peoples to be converted, and what heretics to be extinguished.
Finally the third knock drew the attention of the gathering as the doors violently burst inwards.
Silence fell as every head, from cardinal to squire, turned and watched a lone figure enter the chamber atop a mighty steed.
The doors swayed lazily as the figure nudged their horse with their feet and the creature slowly trotted inside. Each hoof fall echoing like church bells across the polished marble floors as the gathered mass of humans watched. After crossing half way to the group they finally recovered from their shock and found that their previous anger towards each other redirected to this interloper.
“HOW DARE YOU!” one of the cardinals decried in a booming voice. They were soon followed by a chorus of hangers-on, eager to win their patrons favor. The lone figure ceased their progress and listened as the storm of insults and threats washed over them.
“DO YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE?!”
“YOU SHALL BE EXECUTED FOR THIS BLASPHEMOUS BEHAVIOUR!”
“YOU DARE DESECRATE THESE HOLLOWED GROUND WITH YOUR FOULNESS!”
On and on these insults came, yet the lone figure spoke nothing. In fact, they seemed not interested in the gathered mob before them and instead looked at the building they found themselves in. Tilting their head back they peered up at the elaborate glassworks lining the walls and ceiling as the light of the sun cast over them and showered the room in a brilliant swathe of colors. Only when several of the higher ranking officials called for their guards and squires to seize them did the figure respond.
After taking only three paces towards them did the figure hold up a hand and their progress was halted. The guards were confounded as they looked down at their feet to find that thick roots had sprung from the floor and wrapped themselves tightly around their feet.
They tried lashing at the roots with their halberds and swords only to find they could not even scratch the bark; their blows bouncing off them and shaking the strength from their arms as if they had attempted to cleave through stone.
“You spoke of hollowed grounds before.” The lone figure spoke for the first time, “You have no idea how true those words are.”
Their voice was deep and clear, easily heard by all those present within the hall causing many of the gathered mob to hush into silence. It was not out of any sort of reverence or interest in what the figure had to say, but out of a strange and overwhelming sense of fear and dread that came with each syllable they spoke.
The figure’s voice did not echo as the religious leaders had within the great hall. It was as if the very stones that surrounded them were unwilling to reply with an echo to the stranger’s words.
“Do any of you know what this spot was before you built this…” the lone figure paused, waving a hand around the room in disgust, “this thing, you call a house of faith?”
None spoke in reply, but this hardly seemed to upset the stranger as they continued without waiting for an answer.
“A field, lush in plants beyond description, whose colors could make the god’s weep with joy. Hundreds of animals of all manner gathered in harmony, beyond the need of survival to exist together in a paradise this world had never known.”
The stranger turned their attention back to the gathered gaggle of humans; the very building creaking and groaning as if suddenly pressed from all sides by a tremendous force.
“And look what you have built atop it?”
Cracks began forming in the delicately laid stained art; chunks falling out of place and shattering against the floor causing several of the cardinals to cry out in despair.
“You have taken the wild beauty of the world and replaced it with,” the stranger decried louder, their voice struggling as if suppressing an overwhelming rage; “a conforming order of stagnation, repression, blindness, and self-serving platitudes!”
From the entrance of the great hall came a new sound. Like the creaking of a thousand trees swaying in the breeze of a mighty wind, the cracks and groans of wood could be heard coming ever closer until finally the doorway was filled with a living wall of branches and roots.
They swept in like a tidal wave and slowly rose up to take form; each branch twirling to give shape to a monster of immense size. A dozen arm like appendages shooting out and twisting back and forth as the creature continued to grow and grow.
Several of the squires began to cry and moan while several cardinals fell to their knees and prayed in the rapid hushed tone of men on the brink of insanity. All of them looking up at the growing monster as the head of a great forest creature finally took form and it looked at them with violent intent.
“W-w-w-who are you?” one of the bishops stammered as his fellows now lacked the capacity to form anything other than a moan of fear.
The lone figure, now draped in the shadow of the creature standing over him, slowly pulled back their hood and revealed their face to the humans. What they saw was that of an old man; easily mistaken as one of their species had it not been for the fact their skins was dark brown and cracked like the bark of ancient trees.
“I am Silvanus, the Oak Father, and I have come to reclaim the wilds you have taken from me.”
