After the Storyteller finished his story, a massive man arose. He was easily close to seven feet tall. A barbarian from the Hinterlands. He walked in front of the Storyteller and looked down at him and the Storyteller in turn cranked his neck up to look at the giant of a man. "I have a story to tell you, old one." The Barbarian's voice boomed like a drum. The old one as he was referred to smiled and pointed towards a seat that was elevated like his and the giant sat down on the creaking and protesting chair and began to tell his tale. "My people were wiped out. A strange illness that came from an angry god." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The smell of smoke was thick in the air of the settlement as men and women could be heard shouting, with the cries of children in the background. The chaotic sounds of battle echoed throughout the night. The Barbarians had formed a line in the center of town, all that stood in front of them were destroyed buildings, dead bodies, and strange things. Things that had once been their friends and neighbors. Behind the line of warriors was what remained. Huddled masses and a desperate hope for survival. The leading Barbarian who sported a fiery mane of hair roared as he swung his halberd cleaving what had once been his best friend in half. The two halves of the body trembled and quivered before blood red vines began to emerge out and grab a hold of themselves and pull the body back together. The dead did not stay dead, but the living did tire. The Barbarian did not stand idly by as the halves tried to reunite, he flung a torch onto the body, and it began to quickly catch almost like it was no longer flesh and bone, but thatch and straw. The vines seemed to scream as they were quickly engulfed. Fire had been the only thing that truly seemed to stop these things. Those that had been infected by the green longer had more telling signs. Sprouted leaves, thorny vines that seemed to spiral around their limbs, oaken skin. What was even worse, they had no idea how it spread. Fine one day and the next they were trying to grab other villagers and take them out into the woods where they would come back changed. In mere hours the warriors began to drop one by one from exhaustion and wounds. Drug off screaming to the woods. Until it was only the Barbarian with the flaming locks wielding a broken halberd that was left resisting. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "He chose the cowards way out. He ordered the people behind him to douse themselves in oil along with himself and they ignited it. Choosing to die rather than take the god's blessing." The Storyteller frowned. "I have traveled quite far going from village to village when I am able..." The barbarian said quietly. "All must know of the green." Things could be seen rippling under the Barbarians skin as he grinned manically, but before he could do anything the Storyteller moved with quickness that should have not been possible with his age and build. His hand resting as high up as he could reach on the Barbarian. "I thank you for your tale wanderer, but I am afraid it can go no further." As he finished his last word a blaze of blue flame radiated from his hand and with each pulse of the strange blue flame it surged across the giant's body. His screams echoing through the Stone Rose Tavern and out into the city of Bradington. As the body was quickly consumed and turned to ash before the stunned crowd the Storyteller nodded towards the Barkeep who immediately sent out a man to get a hold of the town guard.