You see her their standing before a great tree. Dressed in elvish green, and brown leather boots, a bow and quiver upon her shoulder and a sward upon her hip. She looks at the tree intently, and then you see it, the look of recondition on her face. She's found what she's looking for. She reaches out to the tree with her hand and touches the bark ever so slightly.
She hesitates.
Looking around she's now unsure of herself. Am I worthy? She asks herself as she stars at the tree. 'Am I worthy?' she asks herself allowed, 'that's why I'm here; to find out.'
She sights and shakes her head. Its now or never. Finally she gathers herself and collects her nerve. She takes in a deep breath and takes a moment to center herself, 'Relax, peace, serenity, calm,' she felt that comforting sense of serenity creeping over her consciousness it gave her strength, gave her purpose, 'Nothing happens by accident, you are meant to be here. Focus, relax, be patient... Remember your focus determines your reality,' she had never believed those words, witch her late master had oft repeated to her, more than she did now. Master you told me on your death bed, you said to be vigilant, you said that I would come upon the great tree when I stopped looking for it. You said there in I would find my destiny, my purpose. Master, here I am, as you said I would be. I need your guidance now more than ever. She closed her eyes and reached out with her spirit, with her soul she felt into the tree, felt the echo of many great warriors, noble priests, and wise philosophers. Some had succeeded, but many, most had failed.
Now she stood there on the brink of her greatest test. This was not a test of her skill or her intelligence, no, this was a test of her self, of her dedication, of her worthiness to be. This was a test of her soul, of her spirit. A test of the flesh, a test of the mind, and a test of faith, her old master had told her, only the true of heart can pass, only the faithful can look upon themselves and see all of their faults, all of their weaknesses, and look past them, see that they are in fact tools and assets. That was it, those where his dying words. He had tried to say more, but all that passed his lips was the gurgle of blood and a final gasp of breath. Then she knew it, the man who had been her mentor, her friend, her teacher, her guide, and her lover was gone and she was utterly alone.
But even now she felt his presence, the comforting, guiding hand on her shoulder was almost tangible. Some times she thought if her mind was quiet enough, if she listened hard enough she could hear his whispers of encouragement, and feel his breath upon her neck. 'Go,' she thought she heard him whisper. She whipped around, but was alone.
Again she touched the tree, this time with determination. She placed her palms out and pushed. It gave way, suprisingly easily, and she nearly fell into the room behind the door.
*********************
A Priestess dressed in the colors of the earth. Flowing white robes covered a gown of deep greens and browns. She woar warrior's boots of brown leather, and in her hand she carried a wizard's staff. 'Welcome, Nailagen,' she said in a voice soft and distinct, voice like the song of a shallow brook.
'H-hello?' she was confused, 'how do you know my name?'
'I know many things,' she said with the same fluidity, 'what is it you desire to gain from coming here?'
'Gain?' she asked not understanding, 'I don't know... I came for the test. I was told it is a test of the flesh, of the mind, and a test of faith.'
'Yes,' she said matter-of-factly, 'it can be, and yet it can be so much more and so much less; the test is a test of self and so it is as you wish it to be, and yet it is not.'
'I, I don't understand,' Nailgen stuttered.
'But you do,' she said with an enigmatic smile, 'what do you seek to find here? Some search for strength, others power, and some knowledge, but there are many more possibilities. What is it you seek?'
Nailgen grew silent and thought a long while.
'I seek knowledge,' she said at long last, 'and yet, I seek more.' Nailgen was puzzled by her own words and the priestess laugh.
'Knowledge,' the priestess said smoothly, 'the wise always seek knowledge, the learned seek wisdom,' she smiled brightly, 'Knowledge is worth the endeavor, or at least this is what you think. There are six doors before you,' she gestured, but Nailgen only saw one, 'Wich do you choose?'
Nailgen was thourally confused, 'I see only one door.'
'Then you have already chosen,' the priestess said softly and removed from her bodes a silver key and handed it to Nailgen, 'There is no turning back once you set out on your chosen path.'
'Seek the keys,' she said, 'go with peace and an open mind.'
'What's in there?' Nailgen asked.
'Only what you take with you,' the priestess answered and turned away and walked to the end of the room furthest from Nailgen.
Nailgen kneeled before the door and centered herself, she took a long moment to meditate, and at last stood. She let out a long held breath slowly and she felt refreshed, clean. She fitted the key into the lock, it fit perfectly. She turned it and with the sound of a mechanical click the key disappeared and the door opened slightly with a quiet creek.
The room was dark, light less. It was wet, the air was thick with moisture, and the smell, it made her ill. Mold, disease, decay, rot, and fresh spilled blood - her sense overwhelmed her. The chocking smell hit her nostrils like a brick wall slapping her in the face.
She took a deep breath and walked through the portal. The door shut and locked behind her. From somewhere off in the distance she heard the drip, drip, drip of water, but something was wrong with it. It didn't sound right, it sounded heavy and thick, but not different enough for her mind to register what other possibilities the drip, drip, drip could be.
Instinctively she walked toward the sound. If water could get in, perhaps she could get out. As the sound of the drip, drip, drip, got closer, the light of a single torch nearly blinded her after he long walk through blackness. She saw it, the drip, drip, drip; it was blood coming throughout wooden planks in the celling above her. She knelt, took a dagger from her boot and stood again. She saw no other indication of a way out; she had reached a corner in the room where she now stood. She tested the wood with her dagger. A two foot section of the celling fell through.
Four bodies in various states of decay fell on her.
Disgust, shock, fear.
Overwhelmed, she recoiled from the bodies and jumped away, trying desperately, but to no avail, to remove the scent of death from her clothing. At last Nalign gather her self again. She took a quick moment to center herself and then she moved the bodies to dignified positions of rest and said a short prayer for them, hoping they found safe passage to the halls of their fore fathers.
... To Be Continued...