Something is wrong. Something is very wrong in the woods tonight.

It's not that Wit is afraid of the dark. Far from it, in fact. He's used to bounding around under the stars in the Lantern Light wood, in the darkest wee hours of the night. It was a familiar sight; the moonlight shadows of the tall tall trees, illuminated by the gentle glow of the lantern bulbs. The last few nights, however, something has felt... Strange. The other plants seem to feel it too. There have been less and less of the bioluminescent plants lighting up the wood, their gentle glow receding into empty gloom. Though he hasn't been alive for very long, Wit knows these woods. Knows them like a child knows their mother, instinctively and wholeheartedly. He is a part of them, after all.

And he knows that this darkness pervading through the trees is a dire sign of something terrible.

The little root hurries through the brambles and leaves, running as fast as his short legs can carry him. Several times he trips, stumbling over an unseen rock or the winding roots of a tree, only to crawl back up and keep running. The dread tightens in his chest like a weed, quickly overgrowing any other emotion and choking him from the inside. The terrible sensation is unfamiliar, unlike any of the fears he's felt before, its roots running deep and strong. Someone has to know what's happening to his home, to his family-- all of his now missing glowy friends. Someone has to know how to help... Right?

Wit runs and runs until he feels he can run no longer, calling out for anyone who might hear him. His breathing is sharp and shallow, punctuating his words.

"Nee' help..!" he cries out into the dark. "P'ease! Someting happen, nee' help!!"

There's something a little... off about the Lantern Light Wood, this time.

Of all the places in the Moonglade, it's one of those places Kvasir knows best, remembers most fondly; it's home to some of his kindest meetings, from his first encounter with a certain sweet little plant child in his search for wildflowers, to his very first meeting with a certain someone with forget-me-not eyes and lilac skin and hair, a smile like moonflowers and a spirit like starlight. He knows it well, knows the paths, knows the life that flourishes within it, hostile and docile, sentient and silent; he's wandered these woods a hundred times and will wander them a hundred more, after all.

There's a dimness out here, tonight-- a silence that creeps unnaturally over the area, sitting in the trees like a bird of prey waiting to swoop into action. It isn't as if darkness is ever much of a burden to Kvasir [1], but something about how dull the forest feels tonight doesn't sit well with him, uneasiness crawling down his spine, his tail bristling with the feeling.

The feeling only grows as soon as a familiar voice cuts through the silent, panicked, afraid, begging for someone to help.

"...Wit?"

The voice is undeniable, the sentence structure even more so-- it's definitely Wit, running along somewhere deeper in, and Kvasir does not hesitate to quicken his pace, wishing to find him, wishing to come to his rescue and figure out what's wrong. Worry darkens his gaze as soon as he finds him, the frantic look plastered across the plant child's face evident to see, even in the darkness.

"Wit...! I... It's just me," Kvasir says, holding up his hands. "It's just Kvasir. What's the matter...?"

---

[1] Night Vision

It's been a while since Astrid last ventured into the Lantern Light Wood. She always found it to be a pretty place with interesting plants and animals, but really her interests lie elsewhere. Like metallurgy. Plants aren't exactly metal. Except the ones crafted expertly and adorning doors and windows of homes throughout the lands. Those are the kinds of plants she likes best. 

In all honesty, it's weird being back to taking on a few adventures on her own, but her adventuring partner is off on their own solo experiences in Dragon's Cradle and Frost Gale. She wonders how the ooze is doing up where it's cold...

The less-than-observant child walks past what might have once been the brilliantly lit lantern plants of the wood's namesake. Long since eaten by bugs, she simply... doesn't notice them. Darkness never did impede her much, and her eyes glimmer a soft gold while she looks around. Charles her squirebot walks clunkily behind her, and Spicy Pawsage the hellhound sniffs at the ground for clues. 

Hearing movement in the brush and a cry for help from a tiny voice, Astrid looks in that direction, and the hellhound barks viciously. The half-dwarf whips out both her hammers and charges in for battle. "We'll save ya!" she shouts, leaping from the brush. Kvasir's brains nearly get bashed in just out of habit, but Astrid restrains herself, skidding to a stop. "Oh, shoot, sorry!" she says quickly. "Thought ya might've been a bug. Er, not that ya look like a bug, just... um... habit."

It quickly occurs to her that this foxy lad is familiar, but she didn't have much wherewithal to talk to him before with all the distractions afoot. "Oi! Ya were at the Rookery, weren't ya? Fer the wine tastin' right?" she asks with a grin. "Don't think I got yer name. Hi! I'm Astrid!" With that, the half-dwarf holds out a hand donned in a red gauntlet only to realize that there's another creature here. A tiny plant friend!

---

Night Vision

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Greedy Grubs
Chapter: One
Description: Turns out a new invasive species of insect has made the woods their home and are eating all of the lantern light bulbs, completely destroying the ecosystem. You are being asked to find one of the hives and remove or destroy it. This is easier said than done however, as the insects are large than most and deliver very painful bites and stings.
Requirements:
- Requires at least two people (you and one other)
- You must make at least 6 post to complete the mission with each post being at least 200 words
- The insect can be any kind but is hostile and dangerous and must be removed from the area.
- Once you complete this mission you have completed this quest chain and may turn in the mission.

There's movement in the brush, a figure, silhouetted by the dim, distant light of the moon. He can barely make it out, but then, finally, something breaks through the eerie silence. At long last, a response that isn't his own voice echoed back to him. Not just a response, but one bearing the soothing balm of familiarity. Someone's heard him-- the person he wished most to come to his aid, to help, to heal. If anyone knows what's happening to the woods, it'll be him.

"Kvas'r..!" Wit rasps, stumbling towards the man to cling tightly onto his leg. He babbles incoherently around the hitched staccato of his rapid breath, his thoughts jumbling over each other in a tumultuous mess, only garbling further as he tries to express them with his face buried into cloth.

He might have been able to gather them into something coherent, but the sudden cacophony of sounds crashing in through the foliage sends him deeper into his primal panic. A poacher! No, a beast! A monstrous, barking beast! Quick as a bolt, Wit scurries up Kvasir's clothing, shrieking and scrabbling to reach higher ground. From there, Wit perches on Kvasir's shoulder like a tree branch, squinting into the darkness, unable to see this new threat clearly. Is this the one who's been taking his glowy friends..?!

Wit lets out a quiet hiss, his leaves flaring out from his face like a lizard in an attempt to make himself look larger.

Two forms of chaos collide at once, each on a different side.

First, just as Wit is scrambling toward him, clinging to his leg with a desperation unlike any Kvasir has ever seen from the little plant, there's a cacophony of barking, the sound of armored boots against the earth, a young and slightly familiar voice all entangled together, and he only gets one brief moment to whip around to look before he finds himself staring a solid block of steel down. It's thankfully suspended, caught in place before it could get to work scrambling his already supremely scrambled brain, but it sends a spike of panic through him all the same, his ears flattened back against his skull and his tail bristling to life.

He hardly gets much time to process it all as Wit suddenly vaults himself up to his shoulder, hissing like he's been born a feral reptile instead of a little plant creature, and Kvasir is quick to try and soothe him, lifting a hand up to signal that all is well, that this is fine, his voice low and soft and even despite the stress cracking through it.

"Wit, it's alright," he whispers, following the words with a round of gentle shushing, worry jolting through him at the way the little plant hisses. A heavy sigh leaves Kvasir as he turns back to face their near-assailant, eye roving over the child standing before them both. She seems genuinely sheepish over the failed delivery of blunt force trauma, at least-- and... furthermore, she seems to recognize him from... a wine-tasting...?

Oh-- right, that. He's... he's fairly sure he remembers that. At Zarius's place, in Darkveil. Yes.

"Astrid," he murmurs to himself, nodding, before offering the young lady a smile, extending his hand in turn to take hers. Despite her smaller stature, her grip is strong and eager, life thrumming through her the way lightning dances through clouds. "Yes, I believe we did briefly see one another; we merely didn't get much of a chance to speak. It's lovely to meet you, Miss Astrid-- my name is Kvasir."

"Kvasir?" she echoes back with a grin, happy to shake his hand. "Nice ta meet ya. Me hound is Spicy Pawsage, and me-" Astrid looks back behind her to hear the clumsy clomping of Charles the child chaser approaching. Finally, the metal man breaks through the brush with bits of plant matter stuck in his joints. The girl's expression falls, and she looks exasperated when she turns back to the foxman. "And me metal companion is Charles."

Of course, the reptilian hissing from the tiny turnip doesn't go unnoticed, and Astrid looks at Wit sitting on Kvasir's shoulder. "Avasha above, yer a cutie!" she half squeals. Is this a pet? A magician's familiar? It's wearing clothes, so there must be something specific about it, she just isn't aware of what that is. Regardless, Astrid invades Kvasir's personal space to extend a finger to shake Wit's little hand should he wish it. "Sorry if I scared ya, little guy. The wood have got all kindsa creatures in 'em, and I'm lookin' fer whatever's eatin' all the lightbulbs."

They are, in a sense, literal lightbulbs. Flowers that glow in the darkness, except there aren't many glowing in this particular area. 

When Astrid finally steps out of Kvasir's space, she looks around. "Someone was callin' fer help. Do either of ya know who that was?" 

Seeing as Kvasir has been narrowly spared from a sudden and undeserved bonking, Wit allows himself to be consoled by the gentle hushing, quieting his hiss to a low, gurgling growl in his throat. He remains on guard, however, his hackles raised and leaves continuing to stand on end like a frightened cat's fur, refusing to settle until he's certain the threat has passed.

The little person before them speaks at a much different cadence than Kvasir, her voice much louder and excitable than any hunter he's overheard before. Though, now that the kerfuffle has settled somewhat, her brash demeanour doesn't seem to unsettle Kvasir as much as it did previously... Her words are nice words, at least..? Perhaps she isn't aggressive after all.

Wit draws back slightly, giving her hand a reproachful look. He's still squinting in the dark as it comes right up close to him, unable to discern too many of her features without the glow of the lost light of his friends. He's just contemplating whether or not to give the extended finger a nip when her intentions are voiced, nearly causing him to tumble backwards off of Kvasir's shoulder. Help! The beast-girl has come to help!

"Nee' help!" he repeats, though much quieter than he had previously been calling out. "Glowy friens am missing, too dark! No know what happen..."

The little plant sniffles, trying to re-situate himself on his previous perch. "..'Ou help friens?"

Uneasiness still twinges in his tummy, especially when he glances at the silhouettes of Astrid's companions-- the ever encroaching darkness offers no comfort to their menacing looking shapes. But, if she truly is here to help, then... For the sake of his glowy friends, he's willing to accept any help she's willing to give. If Kvasir isn't scared of this strange new girl, then neither is he. Mostly.

As long as she and her beasts don't try to eat them.

The warmth does not fade from Kvasir's expression as Astrid's attention turns toward Wit, though it is colored by caution, his focus shifting to the tension still rippling through the plant child perched precariously on his shoulder-- the poor thing is still so clearly on edge, uncertain as to whether or not to place his trust into the stranger who's quite literally charged into his space. As Astrid leans in, extending her finger for Wit to shake, Kvasir is quick to raise his hand to brush his fingertips over those frayed leaves, wanting to convey that all is well, that this is someone he can trust.

"This is Wit, Astrid," he's quick to introduce, figuring that Wit may not be so willing to give his own name in the midst of his panic. Still, it won't do for there to be any confusion. "Wit, Astrid is a friend. I promise."

He offers another round of hushed shushing as Wit assesses the dwarven girl before them, letting the little plant form his own opinion, but relief clearly flashes across his face when Wit seems to come to a positive conclusion. Still, that quickly takes a backseat to the resurgence of Wit's panic-- and the problems festering in the woods around them, which have caused him no shortage of undue stress.

Kvasir's brow furrows; it's no wonder that Wit seems so distressed, if the lights of the wood are gradually all going out, yielding beneath the teeth of some unseen monster. Finding out what's going on shouldn't be overly difficult, but... putting an end to a problem this widespread may not be easy. Still, he's not one to deny Wit anything.

"Of course I can help," he says quickly, his gaze flitting over to Astrid. "Miss Astrid, ah, I hate to pester you, but... You wouldn't happen to want to lend a hand as well, would you? This sounds like this could be a bit intense."

None of this deters the girl. "Of course, I'm willin' ta help! I'm out here lookin' fer whatever's eatin' the bulbs," she says with some level of cheer that doesn't quite fit the seriousness of the situation at hand. Looking around, Astrid spots a plant that looks like it once held a lantern flower and steps over to observe it. "The local guard said somethin' about big bugs that are a pain ta handle. Figured it's been a long time since I smashed a few annoyin' insects, so this wouldn't be too out of me wheelhouse ta handle on me own."

Then she turns her gaze back to her new companions in this endeavor. "And lucky me, looks like I'll have some extra help from the two of ya!" The girl's green eyes flickering with gold land on Wit again. "Wit, nice ta meet ya officially. Sorry fer startlin' ya before. Didn't mean nothin' by it, just reactin' ta thin's happenin'."

Placing her hands on her hips, she takes a look around. "Did ya come runnin' from a place where the bugs are causin' problems? Just point me toward 'em, and I'll make quick work of every one of 'em that crosses our path!" She's not particularly great at navigating dense forests, so she really does hope the two of them can take her to where any fighting and smashing need to happen. Either way, she's raring to go!

Almost immediately, Wit bumps his head against the palm of comforting hand, his leaves shuddering back down to their normal state as he relaxes. Kvasir's touch is like a balm to his frazzled nerves, evident by the way he nuzzles harder into the affection, a low, raspy purr burbling deep in his throat.

"Ast'id frrrien," he echoes, sounding more certain than before. "Nice to meet'chu."

Having settled back into a comfortable spot, perched like a tiny gargoyle, he pays more heed to the words being spoken. His dark, glassy eyes widen, despite not being able to see very well, settling on Astrid as she explains. Something was... eating the light bulbs? The thought twisted sharply in his chest-- a similar jolt to that of a tree branch, cracking beneath one's grip. He thinks back to the frayed, ragged stems, the only remaining evidence of his glowy friends' presence in the wood. At first he'd thought someone was simply taking them, whisking them away from their home to places unknown for whatever dastardly things a plant-poacher gets up to, but this...

This thought is far more harrowing.

Wit frowns, his jagged lower jaw sticking out slightly as he tries to parse out the reality of this dire situation. "Buggies am eating friens..?!" he asks, a quiver in his voice. His mind wanders to the butterflies and beetles he's played with before, thinking of the moths that danced in the gentle lantern lights, hardly able to imagine them devouring the bulbs they played amongst. He shakes his head. "How dis? No see buggies in glowy house..! Buggies am sleeping."

He pauses for a moment, squinting once more as he tries to make out possible insects in the dark. "No can see..." Wit shakes his head again and raises both arms up to the night sky, uttering something unintelligible to the stars before clapping his little hands together. The bioluminescent glow on the tips of his leaves brightens briefly before gradually dimming back to its normal state. When he brings his hands apart, a tiny blue light¹ sits in his palm, cutting through the gloom to gently illuminate the three. Satisfied, he points back in the direction from whence he came running.

"Glowy house am dat way," he says. "You come see?"

---

[1] Light spell

A quiet, nigh-indistinguishable sigh of relief falls from Kvasir's lips as soon as Wit settles down beneath his fingertips, as soon as the nervous, distressed hiss underlying his words fizzles out, yielding to a gentler certainty as he greets Astrid-- properly, this time, with less threat of removing a finger. Even though he's certain any risk of a scuffle breaking out between the two children, he keeps Wit carefully balanced on his shoulder, a hand still gently set on his head, wanting to ensure that the fear still bristling through him is kept at bay.

He furrows his brow as soon as Astrid mentions insects-- well, that's... quite an odd and spontaneous shift. What could've caused such a drastic and tumultuous change in the ecosystem to set massive bugs loose upon all of the bioluminescent lifeforms within the Lantern Light Wood? It feels a bit strange for it to happen so suddenly, but... Kvasir is a botanist, an alchemist, and a medic, first and foremost-- he is not an entomologist. All of his knowledge of insects strictly pertains to how they contribute and relate to the plants he studies. Who knows what could be going on with the creatures of these woods; for all he knows, this is some rare cycle they go through every hundred years or something.

"Bugs, then," he muses, letting out a quiet sigh. Well, fighting off bugs is going to be a right pain-- he's a ranged fighter, not a close-quarters one, and insects tend to have fairly quick reaction timing. Gods, he hopes he can shoot them effectively enough... "Ah, don't worry, Wit, Miss Astrid and I will happily help you handle everything."

He is quick to gently set Wit down on the ground so the plant child can lead them forward properly, following closely on his heels toward his aforementioned home.

When Wit's light flares up, Astrid squints and turns her eyes away. Having been able to see before, her eyes have to readjust to the light level. It happens quickly enough, and she props her war hammer on her shoulder, looking between Wit and Kvasir. 

"Aye, I'll do what I do best - smash stuff!" she agrees with a smile. "Don't ya worry, I'll follow ya both an' take up the rear so nothin' catches up off guard from behind." With that, the group sets out through the unusually dark Lantern Unlight Wood.

Astrid keeps her eyes and ears out for any movement or buzzing amongst the darkened trees. The moment she sees a bug, she's ready to spring. At one point, something buzzes in her ear, and she whips around, ready to face off against the loud, chitinous creature, only to discover that it was only a small mosquito. Out of some kind of spite, she crushes it in her gauntlet, bits of flame licking up around her fist to ensure the job is complete. The girl offers an apology if she startled the others and continues about her business. 

When they pass some noticeable damage to the lantern flowers, Astrid pauses and calls to them to draw their attention to it. She's not particularly well versed in explaining it, so she does in the best way she knows how. "Look at this! See, looks like somethin' took a big ol' bite outta it." Then she points out a few more. "It's definitely pretty dark in this parta the woods. Be careful."

"Otay, stay cyose p'ease." Wit wobbles when he's set down, taking a moment to find his balance before toddling ahead.

The reassurance of both company in the darkness and more than one set of hands to help gives the little root an inkling of courage in his belly, at least enough to lead the motley collection of people and beasts deeper into the shadowy wood. He keeps his hand outstretched in front of him, a sole speck of light guiding them down the barely trodden paths.

As they travel further in, Wit finds himself faltering in places, hesitantly peering around for the illuminated landmarks that used to light the way, only to find that they've nearly all gone out. He's distressed to discover that Astrid is right-- upon closer inspection of the Lantern Lights' ragged, damaged stems, it's clear to see that something has shorn away the bulbs, leaving the plants themselves to wilt and die. Their once lively leaves hang low and limp, mourning the loss of their light. Wit stops in front of one of the larger plants, gently stroking its drooping leaves with his free hand as if to comfort it, crooning soft, forlorn chirps in a language that perhaps only he can understand.

Wit turns back to Kvasir and Astrid, brushing his arm over his face to wipe away the dewy mess that's gathered on his cheeks. He looks as though he's about to say something, but an unexpected rustling from the underbrush freezes him in place-- his forlorn expression immediately shifts to one of high alert, his leaves flaring back out.

"...Listen," he whispers, dropping to a crouch. "What dat..?"

He points to the approximate origin of the sound, his palm closing around his little light, dimming it slightly.

No matter how steadily an ancient deity pries at his memories, nothing will ever bleach the familiarity of the Lantern Light Wood from Kvasir's mind; he knows the paths too well, knows the way the trees hang, knows the flora that blooms here with encyclopedic accuracy. He may not know the specific minutiae of every corner of these woods, but he knows the kinds of things that grow here and how vivaciously they thrive, and he knows that the bulbs of Lantern Lights seldom ever go dim beneath the dark of night.

But the pale pink flowers those lights bloom from unfurl to hold nothing, the lights dull and dim, all of the other bioluminescent lifeforms of these woods bitten at, their luminosity scattered and stripped away. Now that he looks at it with clear eyes, he can see the obvious signs of bite marks against florets of moss and sprigs of grass and the bulbs of other glowing flowers. Though his eyes are largely unaffected by the heavy shadows falling upon the wood, Kvasir knows they should never hang like this.

"...It shouldn't be this dark at all," he half-muses, half-answers as Astrid points out a particular spot of damage to one of the flowers that sustain the Lantern Lights. "The whole wood is sustained by magic, by all manner of bioluminescent life; the whole place should be aglow. Even at its dimmest, it should not be like... this."

The troubled look on his face does not falter as he continues following Wit, Astrid remaining close by, that little light in the plant child's palm serving as their guide, the worry touched by sorrow as soon as Wit stops to pet at one of the wilting plants as though comforting a weeping friend. It's a pitiful sight, really, only deepened by the sight of what looks like tears glistening in those dark eyes-- though it all falls apart as soon as a sound cuts through the air, harsh and warning, an eerie buzz cleaving through the ominous silence.

"...Wit, wait--" Kvasir says, quick to step forward and gently nudge the plant child back, his tail bristling, fur standing on end. There's something wrong about that noise, some strange energy hanging beneath the buzzing, something strange and wrong--

as soon as he moves to nudge Wit back, a sharp, burning pain cuts into Kvasir's arm.

He hisses, glancing down at his arm, noting the way the fabric of his shirt has easily torn, blood already staining the edges, a shallow cut making its mark on his skin. It isn't severe looking, though there's a... a strange energy pulsing through it, burning, searing, uncomfortable in its presence-- it's clearly a bite mark, and the culprit has flitted away into the sky a short distance away, mandibles glistening with red beads of blood.

...Well, no matter. Kvasir sighs, setting a hand to his arm, already ready to draw upon summer mornings and spring light to piece himself back together-- but no light surges forth. Nothing surges forth.

...

"...what the hell?" he hisses, confusion plastered across his face as he glances back to Astrid and Wit, a touch of franticness in his eye. "...I-- I can't... heal this."

Following Wit through the wood and watching the realization of the destruction's source creep across his cute little face breaks Astrid's heart. Just as she's about to reach down to comfort the little guy, he's suddenly alert. Spicy Pawsage behind her growls, fur bristling. There's a heavy buzzing coming out of the darkness. Astrid just barely notices the huge insect sink its mandibles into Kvasir's arm before flying away. 

"Oi, there it is!" she says, pointing up at the insect. She doesn't hesitate to throw her war hammer up into the sky toward the bug as if the heavy weapon were only a stick she lifted from the forest floor. It whirls through the air, and with a crunch and squelch, the head slams into the insect, splattering it midair before gravity takes hold of the hammer. The weapon plummets to the ground but changes course last minute to return to Astrid's hand. 

It's about this time Kvasir says he can't heal the wound. Well, that's no big deal, right? She can't really cast healing magic either - it's not a skill everyone possesses. Still, he looks distressed. Why...?

"Uh, what's the problem, exactly? Are... Are ya s'posed ta be able ta do that?" she asks. The goopy bug guts on her hammer's head glisten in the light trickling through the canopy. It has an almost iridescent sheen to it. That's interesting. 

That's when she hears it: a chorus of buzzing heading in their direction. A swarm of these bugs senses their next meal, and the three of them might just be that!

Astrid looks to Wit and Kvasir. "There's a medical kit in Charles' backbox! Grab that if ya need it! And uhhhh, don't get bit!" Then she steels herself and charges ahead to reduce the swarm as much as she can. 

---

War hammer - spellblade weapon (electrified, weightless, returning), pale ice, heavy 
Battle hammer - silvered, ice rune, weapon tether