Dadak was glad to have his fathers armor back. The camp armorer had done a good job of repairing the leather bindings on the armor, but as always it is the Oak Heart’s wood that was the true beauty and power of the armor. This morning, Dadk decided that rather than reflect upon the chaotic order of the natural world around him, he would instead spend his meditation on remembering the story of Oak Heart and the sacrifice he made to save his forest.
Dadak sat with Oak Heart’s chest piece in his lap. Imagining the great Treant in all his glory ushering the trees of his forest away from the flames. As Dadak stared into the fine grain he could almost see the flames reaching up around oak heart. He could almost feel the urging of Oak Heart willing his trees towards the river that meant safety from the fire. The grain on the wood before a writhing fire, now seemed the the flowing water of a river. The waters of the river swollen by the storm began to flow faster and grow wider, grow hungry. It began eating it’s way through its old banks devouring its way to the village.
Dadak realized that he was no longer remembering the great fire, but another incident. One of which Dadak had been told stories as a child, though he had been but an infant at the time. The rains had been relentless that season. The waters of the swamp had already been higher than ever, the waters already running too swiftly. On this fateful night though, a dam had broken somewhere upriver. Now the great river that had always given life to the swamp had decided to try to eat its way through the swamp and drain the life away from it, and the orc village was right in its path.
As Dadak watched, he once again could see Oak Heart commanding the trees to move, but this time toward the danger instead of away from it. At Oak Heart’s, urging, great banyans uprooted themselves and waded out into the center of the torrent trying to split the flow of the river. Mighty oaks moved to the river bank before the village securing the soil of the shoreline to prevnt further erosion. Many trees were sadly lost in this epic battle, but in the end as the waters slowed and lowered back down, the village was still standing, and the waters of the great river still flowed throguh all of the many arteries of the swamp. Dadak realized then that it had not been Oak Heart but Dadak’s father that had been commanding the trees. Wearing this armor, he had somehow learned to command the tree’s themselves as Oak Heart had.