The Homecoming Harbinger

Autumn is the start of the cool month holidays that bring families together to give thanks and remember what being with loved ones is all about. People travel back to their roots, visiting parents and grand parents for bountiful meals celebrating a good year's harvest and signaling the end of the growing seasons and the hard work that was put into it. It is during these wonderful, love filled times, that people realize that it's not where you lay your head down at night that matters. Home is not a place or material things, but.. as the old saying goes.. home is where the heart is and that is what the Homecoming Harbinger represents.

Deep within the woodlands of Sylestia there is a babbling brook with a mossy, picturesque bank and a carpet of fragrant wildflowers. Over the sparkling waters of the stream leans an ancient weeping willow with draped branches and wide, gnarled roots. Hundreds of Sylvorpas are known to frolic and cavort in this peaceful grove, enjoying the seclusion and safety it provides. There are rumors of a dryad who is bound to the massive willow tree, and lives eternally as protector and friend to the generations of Sylvorpas who call the grove home.

However, the locals also tell a strange tale of how one night each year the guardian tree glows with unnatural light and becomes twisted by some primeval force. They say that on this night alone, not a single Sylvorpa can be seen in the grove, all of them having taken to the water in fright...

she has come to bring nightmares to all. muahahaha. her faithful companion terrifies the people. it's halloween.

The faerie queen of autumn sends messengers to the woods as the year turns cold, alerting the trees to the change of season. Riding on the backs of majestic stags, the colors of autumn follow in their wake. They trail vermillion and gold leaves, dressing the woods in jewel-toned finery. This particular messenger has a tendency to dawdle, piling leaves just so until the moon rises.

Hell's bounty hunter only gets to come up and have fun one day a year.... and he does all he can to have all sorts of fun playing tricks on all he passes, releasing curses to claim spirits and send souls to the underworld.

In a forest far, far away, there once was a great old tree where the spirit of warmth lay dormant. This spirit was that of a beast, a terrifying sight. One day, a young elf wandered into the spirits lair and in a fright killed the spirit, breaking it into thousands of pieces. All the pieces drifted away in the wind, off into the horizon. Without a spirit of warmth the land became cold, and the other spirits became very angry. They cursed the boy and he is now forced to travel the land in search of these spirit fragments. There were far too many pieces to collect so the elf walks along on an endless quest. And thus fall starts to occur as this elvish boy walks away from a land, only to be seen once again the next year.

Thalia the Halfblood
Thalia is the halfblood daughter of Euros, the god if the east wind and of autumn. Each year at the first day of fall, Thalia brings the mortals the autumn equinox, giving balance between the day and night. One of the traditions is for her people to light candles, and they will know they are blessed if her winds blow them out. The candles are also used as gifts to Thalia, and she delights in bestowing a plentiful harvest to them in return.

The spirit of autumn leaves




She is a spirit who come every year, helping the trees shake off the last of their old leaves. She makes sure that all the birds and critters are ready to fly south or have all the supplies to hibernate through the entire winter. Sometimes, if she has time to spare, she would disguise herself as a child and have some fun, playing in the leaves with other children, or trick-or-treating. You just might find her if you look carefully...

deep in the middle of the forest lies an ancient sorceress, cast out for practicing magic in her home village. Forever bitter at her previous home she has spent decades honing her craft in the woods, her magic was unmatched, even among her peers, however is was never enough. In her hubris, she conjured a demon and made a pact: her body was theirs for the price of more power.
In the end she got what she wished for, but now her body wonders endlessly through the woods, a barley contained vessel of pain and anguish, setting fire to all who comes near.

The Guardian
On all hallows eve, in the days when the barrier between the living and the dead are thinnest.
She stands guard over the veil, leaving her poison touch on any soul that may cross, that they never linger for too long.