[@POOHEAD189]



There were many glades in the world with power. Most were in archaic and out of the way places, concealed in the bosoms of wild woodlands or primordial forests. But as cities decayed, nature, eternally patient returned. Caber found what he was looking for in the crumbling suburbs. A large, once well to do house sat empty, a forlorn for sale sign was rapidly being devoured by the unmowed lawn and notices of foreclosure were pinned to the door. In the backyard grew a great oak tree from which hung an ancient tire swing, its rope fraying and the bottom of the tire filled with brackish half frozen water. As they fae approached the winter wind shook free the last of the autumn leaves, which fluttered slowly towards to ground.

The tree itself remained majestic, its roots sunk deep into the soil and its bark gnarled and armored against the worst the winter could throw at it. Ivy grew up around its base though it was brown and dormant, its leaves shriveled as it girdled the oak like a shroud. Around the vast oak trees and bushes grew with an unusual vigor, clustering and reaching towards the mother tree like supplicants to an ancient priest. 

Despite the strangely primal aspect of the place, there was a sense of wrongness about it that Caber had not sensed on his previous visits to the glade of Silvanus. There was a spike of cold iron, ever the bane of the fae, driven into the trunk at about chest level. Oak sap already freezing ran from the strange wound like blood. On the end of the spike was an even stranger sight. A barbie doll, dressed as tinkerbell, complete with green dress and gossamer wings, hung in the process of scattering fairy dust, the mockery all but dripping from the plastic toys lips.


[hider=To think own self be true]
Silvanus can still be contacted if you remove the spike somehow. This Glade is located close to where Mauser was murdered. The murder happened only an hour ago. 
[/hider]