One night in RK (aka One Drunken night)

[Shadowalker]

(prelude at http://www.nsrealm.com/public/ns/viewto ... &t=1002930 )

The day had been spent in battle, across the lands, though the Black tunnels and beside the underground lake. Into the night it persisted, clash of arms and claws, arcane might against the powers of nature. Eventually those that remained became unbalanced, and the combat reached its decisive conclusion.

Barely an hour later deep within the bowel of Aetheria, the dwarven kingdom celebrated, be it victory or simple survival, it mattered not. Kegs of ale from one end to the other were taped. Along with whiskey and wine brought by the uplanders. The dwarves may guard their riches and relics with their last breath, but ALE and its kin were meant to be shared to prove all others lessor mortal to Dwarves when it comes to imbidement.

Among the uplander visitors, was Twig, a gnomish creature of a somewhat forest nature. These drinking feasts were nothing new to Twig, of whose benevolent nature outside the battlefield, was well known. A surprise visit from Samuel Adams of =ALE=, long departed from public life, sent locals and visitors alike into a drinking frenzy. Things digressed to the point where the RK water canal was damned and a beer slide was formed with the help of Gorms Eternal Keg of Brew.

[TheEdge]

My river is a beautiful sight yes???

[Delisha Zrazorian]

The plan to “recruit” a Twig creature into the Fury Guild was in place, all preparations were completed and the day they had been waiting for, the winter Solstice, had finally arrived.

“Caw, caw, caw”… Annabelle’s friends kept Fury up to date on the movements of the Twig creature on this most important date.

"The day had been spent in battle, across the lands, though the Black tunnels and beside the underground lake. Into the night it persisted, clash of arms and claws, arcane might against the powers of nature. Eventually those that remained became unbalanced, and the combat reached its decisive conclusion."

As a blood-red full moon lit up the night sky like a giant lantern, word arrived of victory and ensuing celebration at the Dwarven Stronghold.
Annabelle Thunderfist and Delisha Zrazorian rode like the wind out of Melencia; they traveled in silence, only the steady sound of their pony’s hoof-beats interrupted the serenity of the night. The full moon was directly overhead when the two Fury women arrived at their destination.

Leaving the bright moonlight like a flickering shadow, little Delisha slipped down into the Dwarven stronghold completely unnoticed by the semi-sober guards and made her way to the main drinking hall. Smoke, sweat and booze permeated the air, flooding her mind with vivid memories of her harsh and brutal childhood growing up in the slums of Port Slather. She embraced the old memories for a moment, drawing strength from her lurid past, then pushed them aside concentrating on the job at hand.
First she had to collect the blood. Delisha untied the small dragon-skin pouch from her belt and reached for her boot dagger, but stopped midway chuckling to herself. The cataleptic Snirvblevin warrior she’d chosen as the blood donor was already oozing blood from a dozen different wounds; the bootdagger would not be needed.

The steady drip, from what appeared to be a spear wound in the warrior’s thigh, quickly filled the small dragon-skin pouch. To the warm blood, Delisha added a Slaad claw, a Rakasha whisker and a spider web, and then moved quickly to the Twig creature, passed-out on the floor in a pile of tangled bodies. A swift search of the creature revealed her prize and quick flash of her bootdagger freed the sprout dropping it into the dragon-skin pouch. A big smile crossed her face, then like a silent wisp of smoke she was gone.

Once again the sound of the ponies hoofs pounding the trail was the only sound beneath the bright moonlit sky, as the two Fury women rode back to Melencia.
Upon reaching their destination, Delisha quickly dismounted, removed the already growing sprout from dragon-skin pouch and pushed it into the soft, moist dirt.

Almost immediately the sprout pushed up out of the ground and quickly grew into a sapling with a sizeable pod.
Eyes wide with wonder, the Fury women looked at each other and whispered almost in unison…“By the Gods!”

[Shadowalker]

Voices rose up all around Twig in song, a chorus of spirit and melody, this was his first awareness. As he listens, words slowly came to him, spoken as part of the song yet separate in his head. Her voice soothes as a mother to her child. Powerful words that moved as if alive, racing across Twigs skin till they burrowed into his core. The tempo quickens thrumming though his body, till with a fevered wail, Twig begins to fall. Without concern Twig opens his eyes just as he hits the ground with a wet and gooey splush.

The quivering green pod behind him quickly forgotten as two faces comes into focus. Blinking away the water of life from his hazel eyes, Twig reaches out to touch their faces. This exploration produces a fit of giggles from both women, who begin to talk to each other in broken sentences.

"By the Gods"

"..as big as a child he is"

"Do you think he is hungry?"

"can he understand us?"

"Where will we keep him?"

Taking Twigs hand in hers, Delisha rises to her feet pulling him with her. A few moments of vertigo pass while she steadies him. Twig then tilts his head and with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile upon his face he says, "Allo there” Where upon both women break out a fresh fit of the giggles.

[mining]

Sancreed saw the two slip past him as he stood in the darkest shadows of the underground lake. He immediately took the form of the panther and slowly followed them, ensuring that his black fur was camouflaged against the darkness of the tunnel wall. As the two women slipped past the guards, Sancreed took the form of a drow assassin and slowly slid his blade through the throat of one of the guards, as the other watched. This would be sure to raise hell between the Shadow Legion and Ragnar's Kin. The other guard stumbled off to find help, and Sancreed slowly but carefully took the form of the panther once more. He dashed after the two women, praying that he would be fast enough to catch them. As he heard the quiet whisper, he recognised the voice: Annabel Thunderfist, so the other figure must have Delisha Zrazorian. What were those two doing in this drunken rave?

Silently taking the form of a Kobold, his preferred form, Sancreed peered at what the two woman were doing. It appeared that they were cutting something from Twig. Sancreed readied his scythe, and prepared to defend his friend. A thought came as he poised to strike. 'Twig has always been able to regenerate from minor cuts, so if they do not harm him, I can follow them and see what they're doing.'

Suddenly, the women stand up. Sancreed presses his body against the wall, again taking the form of a drow assassin.

Sancreed came to several minutes later, rubbing his head. He had not expected Anabelle's fist to strike so hard. However, he was in luck. Whatever they had taken, something was leaking blood. He briefly concentrated, and erupted into frenzied motion, sprinting after the bloody tracks, and taking the form of a Minotaur for the journey through the twisting caverns. He heard the sound of voices, and so took the form of a Drow Assassin once more, blending into the shadows, and adding some of his own, just in case.

He noticed the two Fury Women were mounting up on horses, and he cursed. He could keep up with the horses for a time, but not forever. Sancreed dashed after the horses, taking the form of a panther once more in an attempt to make it easier to keep up.

When he had followed them to the Dark Forest, Sancreed figured that they must be on their way to Melencia. And so he took the dragon to Beryn and ran with long strides to the enchanted forest. He took the form of a tiger, and scenting blood followed the trail it left in the air, clear as a painted line to him. Sancreed arrived just as a sprout was beginning to form. He returns to his human form and watches, in awe, as something resembling Twig falls from a large pod.
He listens, but only just manages to hear snatches of their conversation. "By.............big.................understand............." He watches as Twig seems to see something, and then the two women burst into giggling.
"Ah," said Sancreed, quietly under his breath, scratching at the week old stubble on his chin, "Twig, you really are a damnable ladies' Twig."

[Delisha Zrazorian]

As the newly born Twig creature danced and twirled around testing his balance, the giggles from the two Fury women turned into full-blown belly laughs.

What a wonderful creature this “Twig”… neutrality personified exponentially!

Of course the Twig creature would be aligned with The Circle in all it’s magnificent. Praise Mielikki!
Laughter quickly faded as the two women fell to their knees in solemn prayer….

“Oh Great Mielikki”, they began, “blessed Mother who holds the power of life within her merciful hands…”.

Someone was watching them…. Delisha and Anna perceived the intruder simultaneously; their eyes met, acknowledging, but neither showed any outward sign, both continuing their prayer to conclusion. “All praise the Forest Mother… Blessed Mielikki… Amen”.

Delisha then slowly rose to her feet, took the dancing Twig creature by a limb and started the incantation to recall back to Melencia. She must introduce the Twig to the rest of the Fury Guild and begin the young Twig’s training.

When Delisha moved to stand up, Annabelle HIPS and snapped to her feet, instantly running like the wind directly toward the semi-hidden intruder, her stunning fist pulled back and ready, a snarl on her lips. As she swiftly approached the creature she recognized him immediately; twas the Shifter she had surprised and stunned back in the Dwaven Stronghold.

Varbroom! Delisha and the young Twig disappeared in a flashing ball of light recalling to Melencia, showing that the intruder who had been watching them was not an enemy after all.

Upon reaching the Shifter, Annabelle sensed neither animosity nor ill intent... only curiosity, so the little Halfling changed direction slightly, blistering by the Shifter like a blast of wind, down the road toward Melencia and home.

[Shadowalker]

Reeling like a drunken child, Twig shakes off the effects of teleportation. Little electric chills continue to run along each nerve ending, "Unpleasant sensation its not", thinks Twig.

Delisha reaches forward to open the door, showing side access to a small hallway. Stepping though with Twig in tow, she turns to the left and into a good sized room. Many fey and a few humans and elves stand vigil or scamper about the place. Pulled towards the door in the far wall, Twig barely has time to utter a single, "Allo there". Before being ushered outside into the morning air.

Screams and yells, thunks and crashes can be heard over the birdsong as an unruly bunch of young people rush by at play.

Green eyes open wide, peering into Delishas own. Twig tugs at her hand. " Oooo Oooo, Play Twig would, letting Twig play, you be?" Eyes dart quickly to the north as the cloud of dust and elbows disappears around a building.

[Delisha Zrazorian]

“Of course you can play little one” Delisha chucked, breaking into a trot, quickly following
the children’s whoots and whistles.

Rounding the building, Delisha quickly spotted the two orphans brought to the homeless shelter
in Melenica last week. The little Wild Elf, Ellen, was scared and very shy, and the pudgy little Dwarf, Max
just kept too himself.

Some of the other children had made genuine attempts at friendship… but with no success. Both Ellen
and Max felt like outsiders… both still dealing with the trauma of whatever horrifying experience had
left them recent orphans.

The two young Druids, Max and Ellen, would be the perfect playmates for young Twig, helping each other
learn and grow.

“Hey you two!” Fury’s Leader called out, approaching the two orphans; “ I want you to meet someone”
Twig was shaking with delight!

“Ellen, this is Twig… Twig, this is Ellen O’rigby”
Ellen smiled wide with curiosity… “Hi T-t-twig,” she stammered softly, extending a slender hand…

“Max”, Delisha continued, “this is Twig… Twig… this is Maxwell Edison”

[Shadowalker]

Twig hops from one foot to the other in unconfined excitement, pretending to mumble as he reaches out to Ellen. "Allo there," Twig says as their fingers meet and her skin swiftly changes to tree bark, "you've just been twigged. Tree folk you now be, one of the many there are." Twigs grin a yard wide atleast.

Twigs second hand reaches to touch Max....

[Delisha Zrazorian]

“Get back” the little Dwarf screamed in raw terror, pulling out his silver hammer and waving it high above his head.……
too late for Twig’s hand had already touched Max’s other hand.

CrunkleCrinkle... Max’s skin quickly changed into tough tree bark.

The young Dwarf scrunched up his face expecting some kind of pain during the transformation…
but he felt no different at all… Slowly opening his eyes Max looked in awe at his bark-covered body…
then at Ellen and Twig…

The little Dwarf’s mouth hung open in awe as he tested his newly clad toughness.
Bang, bang, Maxwell’s silver hammer came down on his bark-covered thigh and he chuckled with delight.

“Watch this,” he shouted, his short little legs churning away like miniature pistons, he ran headfirst
into the side of the Melencia Inn knocking himself over backwards. Jumping up with a big smile the little Dwarf jogged back.

“Didn’t hurt a bit”, Max bragged with a big smile, “Thanks Twigs”
The three stood together in silence for a brief moment, a bonding of like souls.

Then suddenly Ellen slapped Twig on the shoulder and took off running like the wind…

“Tag, you’re it” the little Elf squealed!

[Shadowalker]

Twig mouth opened in what was hoped to be a barbarian like roar, but due to Twig falsetto voice it came out more like a bullfrogs croak.

His legs take off on their own, leaving Twig to catch his balance and follow suit. Young Ellen is quickly outdistancing Twigs wee little legs, forcing him to turn his pursuit towards Max. Max can’t be seen but the sound of him crashing though the thickest shrubs in town carries easily to Twig ears.

Circling round towards the far end of the noisy thicket, Twig calls to the vines within, asking them to slow young Max further.

Crashing sounds are quickly drowned out with lil dwarven curses. "I'll hammer you to a pulp if'n you dunt be a letting go"

Poised to pounce on Max soon as he exits, Twig doesn’t notice Ellen. Who has doubled back and running fast behind Twig slaps the back of his head shouting with glee "Double IT!”

This completely unexpected assault to Twig head breaks his concentration upon the plants. No longer held under sway the vines quickly retreat. Allowing Max to break free of the thicket and crash headlong into Twig as he stares at Ellen’s retreating back. The two boys go rolling down the slight impression and thunk loudly into the Striders door.

Its a mass limbs and laughter that, The Butler finds upon the doorstep as he answers the door. "Great Ceasers Ghost." he exclaims gruffly, "get a move on youngins, this isn’t the day care."

A soft female voice floats out over his shoulder, "Now now, you old coot. They are just a couple of young refugees, ahh make that three." Missy adds, spying the face of Ellen peeking from behind a tree.

"I haven’t the time to be tending to weans, as you well ken."

"Well just hold the door a minute, you can manage that I think."

The Butler scoffs, but does as she bids.

She quickly disappears within, as Max and Twig detangle themselves and stand up wondering what’s about. But unable to resist poking each other until fresh laughter erupts. Seeing this Ellen approaches, reluctant to miss out on the fun.

"Ahem" announces The Butler.

And Missy steps out with a platter of oatbran and cranberry bannoks, still steaming from the hearth fires. The children’s eyes widen and Max.’s jaw hits the ground. "For us?" they ask in unison.

"Of course, take one each then go tell the others," she nods her head towards the shadows of the other children still at play within Melenica, "so that they may have one to."

Each of the three weans takes a bannok, Ellen going last, still a wee bit shy of the fair-haired Missy.

With a tilt of his head and grin on his face, twig stuffs the hot bannok into his mouth then with each hand pokes his two new friends, mumbling "Yousesth It". Then turning upon his heel run strait after the other bunch of kids. Weither to share the good news or simply lose himself in the confusion is anyones guess.

[Delisha Zrazorian]

Delisha let the three Twigsteteers play until almost dark… then collected the waifs for supper and bath…
Exhausted, once off to bed they quickly fell asleep, collapsing in a twisted pile of knees and elbows and limbs.

Fury’s ambitious young leader smiled, as she watched the little ones, now lost in dreamland…
these would be The Circle’s next generation of warriors, within but a few shot years.

Tomorrow would be a big day for the three, a scavenger hunt created by the Elders to help teach the young ones
about survival in these hostile lands. This should be a fun event allowing all the many children of the Coalition to
meet, bond, and work together… caretakers of the ancient Forest…

Falling to her knees, Delisha whispered a small prayer to Mielikkie, asking the Forest Mother to watch over the little ones
tomorrow during their first exciting adventure!

[Shadowalker]

It’s been two moons since the incident that freed Mielikkie and nearly snapped the psyche of Twig. A moment best left to flash backs.

Having just exited Jinn of Efreets lair, Twig was passing along the plateau when Fleshound of DD and Alia of MADD were spotted below. Enemies they were so the rules of war did say. Yet Twigs nature is that to each individual, Twig's own judgement be applied.

Greeted these two Twig did. Without reply or challenge, they sprang to attack. Their thrusts lost in Twig thick tiger fur, returned the favor Twig did. Claws flashed and they scattered, one slipping into the shadows with a touch of skill, the other lacked the speed to escape view. This one died first, the other skipped between the seen and unseen. Till a heavy paw flattened him to the ground, losing his head between Twigs jaws.

Within moments others from Masl arrived, including a big brute named Buurg Merkus. Twig already lost to the bloody frenzy of battle, was barely able to let them take the first move. Attack they did, Twig nearly falling, before the last of them died. Blood all over the snow, the bodies already claimed by the Rifts, Twig limped near death towards Frost Dale. Then like bandits Flesh and Alia were upon him, a couple of critical paw swiped brought an end to Alia but as she fell, Flesh pounced and ended Twigs life. Till the Rift claimed it back.

[Shadowalker]

Commune completed, the time of sharing passing as it did each crossing of the sun. From tree to tree, life to life, Twig to Twig. Each opening eyes with a new revelation. The moments of one Twig now shared with each and every other.

This commune unique unto itself, as are they all, yet something more. Though decades have passed in front of Twigs eyes, they are but a blink in the eyes of Nature. And this moment carries with it a familiar significance. Not for Twig but for the Forest he is apart of. An old soul, forgotten by all but the most long lived of mortals, walks among them again.

The Twig closest to this presence slips along the forest floor on padded feet. Whiskers’ quivering as the nose seeks out anything unknown. Traveling though nearly every acre of the forest, till near the southern bridges, a new scent found. The aroma filling Twigs nostrils as he skimmed along towards its source. Minutes later, the trail ended, at a man standing over a newly deceased goblin.

[Zaranthys Rivermoon]

It had been a sevenday since he had arrived on this fractured, violent and war-torn world called Aetheria ...

Like the overwhelming majority of this world's denizens, he had been brought through the rift, wrenching his soul so as to bind it to Aetheria, forever condemning him to live, and die, and return alive anew, never to leave this cursed world - forever.

He remembered vividly his first moments of awakening following his unwilling and brutal rendition by the rift - especially the overwhelming confusion and disorientation that he felt, all rendered more intolerable by the petty carping, posturing and bickering of those who stood watch at the rift - the so-called ambasadors of the various factions of Aetheria - as they engrossed themselves in their seeming never-ending chicanery.

Despite their boisterous self-indulgence, the seven ambassadors suddenly reacquainted themselves with shocked muteness upon hearing his ear-deafening roar filled with pain, sadness, fear and righteous anger.

After a moment, they finally remembered that a sentient being was standing before them, one that - like all of them once upon a time ago, with the notable exception of the ambassador of the Last Alliance - was in dire and desperate need of understanding what had happened to him.

Following short and curt explanations of what had just occurred - explanations which did nothing to alleviate in any way his confusion and disorientation - the newly arrived stranger realized that he felt inexplicably drawn towards the ambassador of The Circle. It was not that she was an elf, nor was it her striking beauty and grace, which compelled him to walk to her. It was ... rather, it was something else deep within him, something he could not identify, or understand.

For this man knew nothing of who he was, let alone being capable of recalling any memory - however vague - of where he'd come from.

His mind was a complete blank slate - yet it felt filled to bursting with the memories of a life which he simply could not remember.

And yet, there it was - this compulsion, this insubstantial whisper in the deepest recesses of his mind, forcing his awareness to coldly dismiss the other ambassadors while pushing his body to walk slowly towards The Circle ambassador, mesmerized by a deep-seated craving to speak with her ... and only her.

"Welcome, friend," she greeted him in a soothing, musical voice, smiling kindly as her timeless wisdom-filled eyes peered at his very soul. "You seem as one who has walked far in your life - in addition, of course, to that unfortunate jaunt through time and space caused by the rift on Aetheria. What is your name, please?"

He did not know the answer to such a simple question, however much he felt within him something screaming a name - but not being able to hear it. Like the lost soul that he was, slowly spiraling into a void of nothingness, he grabed desperately at the words of the ambassador, allowing him to mumble something ressembling a coherent answer, one that would grant him some sort of identity in the here-and-now, however much false it may be. Thus, with his voice hesistant and unsure, he dissembled: "I am called ... Farwalker, ambassador".

Whether she accepted - or disbelieved - such an answer, the ambassador adroitely concealed her state of mind to that effect. She did however betray surprise, with the slightest arching of an eyebrow, when that strange man immediately spoke further, still in a halting voice: "I am ... curious, ambassador. Please tell me of The Circle ... or better still ... I would like to join The Circle, if it is all right with you ..."

Yes indeed, the man who called himself Farwalker remembered all too well his first moments of conciousness upon Aetheria.

For this memory happened to constitute the very first one he'd ever known, let alone being his oldest that he was able to recall, a memory of a scant sevenday ago.

However, he still could not fathom why he was drawn into joining The Circle, or how he instinctively knew what The Circle was - even more so, he could not even begin to explain why it felt right in joining this faction, or why finding himself in Melencia made him feel as if he had returned home.

Above all, he remained at a complete loss as to why everything about Melencia, The Circle, the people, those dedicated defenders calling themselves The Silver Striders - even the entirety of Aetheria itself - continually brought to him some vague sense of familiarity ... in spite of the fact that he had never been on this world before.

That is, at least as far as he knew - although he was ever willing to concede that in this respect, he did not know much at all.

In any event, there he was in the Enchanted Forest, doing his part in providing mercy to the ever foul, ever reproducing and multiplying goblins, when a strange-looking individual came striding towards him, having just shifted back from the shape of a stealthy panther.

"Allo there", the diminutive, new arrival greeted in a sing-song voice, adorned with green hair and skin hues that blended with the forest, wearing the colors of Melencia's fellowship of The Silver Striders, before unexpectedly shifting into a fearsome drider. "Lost, are you?" He asked cryptically.

"Well met," Farwalker returned the greeting, smiling warmly, having recognized an obvious ally of Nature. "I thank you for your concern, good sir, but I am merely seeking various runestones as a task that I am performing for the Bear. I am called Farwalker. I'm afraid that is the only name I can give you, for I know not the truth of who I am - and your name?"

"Twig is ... Twig," the other replied with a knowing smile, shuffling his many drider legs this and that, like a spider unable to stay still but for a moment. "Of the trees, Twig is. The trees, Twig hears and speaks with. Nature, Twig lives, feels, hears and speaks with. Of Nature, Twig is. Plant and animal, Twig is. From tree to tree, life to life, Twig to Twig. Twig ... is Twig." He shrugged at that.

"You are a sentient plant-like being?" Farwalker asked in surprise. "How wonderful!" He exclaimed with a sincere laugh of amazement.

"Not just plant Twig is. Animal also," Twig amended, before returning to the subject at hand. "Lost are you. Runestones you seek? Twig knows ... Twig speaks with trees ... Show where, Twig can."

"That is most kind of you, lord Twig," Farwalker replied with a respectful bow. "But I would not abuse of your time ..."

"One near, you know not of," Twig interjected, unperturbed, "Come, show you where, Twig will". At that the drider-shaped shifter strode forth, leaving Farwalker no choice but to follow.

After fighting more goblins, as well as a horde of bugbears, the two Melencians finally arrived to the location of a well hidden runestone. "Runestone there," Twig announced, gently tapping on a soil-set tile with one of his drider legs, before shifting back to his original form of a diminutive, gnome-like being.

"You have my gratitude, lord Twig," Farwalker replied sincerely, making another respectful bow. "But I do insist that I should not take anymore of your time, for I suspect that greater travails are calling you, travails that I assume are much more important than showing me around our fair Melencia".

Twig nodded in acceptance and agreement. "Far away Garagoth calls Twig. Your bond with Nature is strong and runs deep. Trees and animals, the forest, told Twig of the return of an old soul that was lost to them. Commune with Nature, Twig does ... and so, Twig knows." The diminutive shifter then looked straight in the eyes of the puzzled ranger: "Twig has searched and has found," the shifter continued, grinning with childish pride. "Lost you are still, but here you are and Nature will help you if you listen. Satisfied Twig is, so Twig now go. Nature's blessings, Farwalker-not-Farwalker".

At that, Twig strode away, apparently not noticing the look of utter bewilderment and confusion on Farwalker.

"Old soul?" The ranger asked of the departing shifter. "Me? Lost? What does it all mean?"

"Nature will tell!" Twig shouted back without stopping, intent on reaching his destination in good time, thus leaving Farwalker with more questions about who he is and feeling even further away from any chance at getting answers.

And yet ...

Yet something stirred deep within him, telling him not so much with words but with a clear-yet-undefined impression, that what Twig had just revealed to him was fact.

Truth.

The only problem was - Farwalker remained as clueless as ever as to what to do about this.

Nature will tell! Twig's cryptic words echoed in his troubled mind.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, the ranger decided to resume his search for more runestones in order to cast aside, for now, the deepening mystery of his lost memories and knowledge of himself - leaving said mystery to ponder upon and mull over for another day, another time.

Then again, what can the passage of time really mean in Aetheria, when anyone can die one moment only to return whole and alive on the next?

"Walk long and far, friend Twig of The Silver Striders. Safe journeys and safer returns," Farwalker softly spoke, more to himself than to the already far away shifter, before silently returning to his task of searching for runestones, losing himself soothingly in the ancient and everlasting hymn to Life and Nature that was sung by the surrounding woodlands of Melencia.