”You may go now child.” say the old man to the girl guiding you.
Unexpectedly she gives each of you a big hug, before walking away smiling.
After the girl is gone, the kind face of the headmaster changes to something more sober, he walks around his table as the address you again. ”So, what are do you want here?” he asks, and by his tone of voice, you have the impression he knows exactly who you are.
Nahia is unsure how to take the sudden change of the man, or what he knows. Trying to give the impression that she knows what he knows, Nahia raises an eyebrow and replies "I was just curious as to the state of this place and it's wards. In such dark times, seeing such things can remind you of what you continue to fight for."
Turning her head slightly, she asks "Though your tone is surprising. Have we done something to offend? Or are we not welcome?"
"Never said that. There's just no need to put a face for you people." says the man "And drop your 'good guy' act." says headmaster says "I know well enough what do you fight for."
"So, what do you want here?" he asks and despite how his words sounds he seems more busy than angry.
Nahia giggles at the man, agreeing to drop the act and her overly friendly body language. Still with a slight smile she says "Cutting straight to the chase eh? Fine. We also have an understanding of who you work for. This leads us to believe that this place is something special. We were just wondering what makes it that way... why your benefactor is as such?"
”Muscles.” says the man bored ”Why else would you keep a place like this?”
Muscles... is the Baron using this place for... unsavory activities?
Smiling at the headmaster, Nahia replies "So let's say that I needed... muscle. What kind would be available? Or if I needed something more... spiritual... anything like that?"
”A bully, a thug” she gives you a good look before continuing ”bed company. Your call. Many of the boys here would give one of their arms to bed someone such as you.” he writes down something as he continues ”But before making any plans, better clear with your host, since he made no mention of lending his boys to your cause.”
|
oh, you can be certain we will. So happens this might one of those useful things to find out about.
Mysty looks at the headmaster and smiles. She looks around.
This is quite an accomplishment, although I'm a little bit disappointed in his most elfy lordship's secret keeping ability. Why don't you tell us what you know about us, hmm?
He raises an eyebrow to Mysty question. Setting the pen down, he put both hands over the table as he continues ”Know? Just what I’ve been told. That you are dangerous and that I did not needed to pretend around you. Other than that, it was just fishing. ”
Nahia smiles at Mysty and adds "One more question. What happens to the children after they age out of the orphanage?"
In the morning Rose had fallen asleep in her corner. She woke when Nahia woke stretching and yawning with a small squeak.
She stared at the corroded needle with a hint of awe.
"So, what are you going to do with that?"
"Leave? Who said anything about leaving?" asks the headmaster smiling.
Maybe I’ll place it in the Baron’s bedchamber...
Nahia, a hand on the wound in her stomach, reaches over and retrieves Rose’s helmet. She places a hand on it and closes her eyes. After a few seconds of quiet, she smiles wider and says ”Good, it seems to have worked. I’ve drawn out the spirits of misfortune and made room for tonight's ritual.”
Standing with a bit of a grunt, she starts to shuffle towards the washroom, turning to Rose and adding ”If you want to continue talking, come with me. I need a nice hot bath, and afterwards I have to go talk to a merchant in town and see if he managed to procure the items I requested.”
- - - - -
Nahia raises an eyebrow at the headmaster and says ”Hmm… interesting… I may need to return and see your… wares.”
Seren looks down at the shield before her, and smile creeping onto her face. What had once been a gorgeous Mitran personal herald altered to something far more sinister. Black seams on Onyx feeding additional power into the perverse imagery. The Mitran sun turned into a dark star, grasping hands stretching out from it's center.
She gives a little gasp of surprise as she touches the shield, feeling it's pull as it tries to accept her spell. Her smile widens as the channels the spell into the shield, the dark star beginning to glow with a black light.
Andros nods his head at the girl before replying ”It’ll work. It’ll take some time and effort to get it just right, but it’ll work.”
Nahia looks at the skull silently for a moment, but Andros can still feel the concern in her, knows that she’s still reeling from binding a spirit of secrets. ”It’s not the first time that you’ve worked with this kind of spirit. And he can only stay manifested by your will. We’ll be safe. You can do this.” Andros replies. With a hiss that sounds almost like laughter, he continues ”Besides, this isn’t the first man you’ve coaxed into doing your will… and it won’t be your last.”
Nahia smiles and nods. She takes a few moments to clear her head before taking a knife in hand. Silently, she gives a prayer to her Dark Lord.
My Lord Asmodeus, please grant me skill and concentration in this task, that we might all further your wants and needs Lord, that we may spread your glory throughout this realm.
She brings the knife to her forehead, and as she repeats the chant she begins to carve a pentagram. Surprisingly, each stroke of the knife tip brings not pain, but a warming sensation that ripples through her. When the last stroke is complete, her eyes snap open, a faint red glow to them, as she can feel a presence in her mind, ready to guide her. The glow slowly fades, but the warmth remains.
Smiling, and faintly blushing at the feelings from the ritual, she takes the skull in her hands, closes her eyes, and begins tracing her fingers along it.
Yes… I can still feel his presence… his shame… I can feel his attachment to this world… the sadness and grief in him… it’s weak, like a faint ember, but it’s there…
She continues to feel the skull and finds the notch on the back of the lower jaw. Her finger traces back and forth across it as she focuses.
Yes… as was promised, the connection is here…
Keeping her eyes closed, she reaches out and places her hand upon the hair and feels a faint charge of energy flow through her.
And this is the key… the connection is still there…
Nahia opens her eyes and takes her chalk. It takes nearly an hour for her to carefully draw two rather intricate arrays. In one of them she places a tarnished suit of armor and a rusted sword and scabbard. At the top of the armor she places the skull, and over that she places Rose’s featureless black helm.
Around the arrays she very precisely places a half dozen black candles and between them she places a brazier, whereupon she places and lights a bundle of incense. She then takes the bundle of hair and slowly, carefully, weaves the strands into her own. Finally, she takes a chipped and notched shortsword in hand and stands in the empty array.
Nahia does not chant, and instead humms unnaturally low and deep, the vibrations echoing through her throat, jaw, and chest. Closing her eyes, she tries to push thoughts out of her mind and concentrate on the faint energy in the hair. As she continues to focus the energy trickles into her mind more and more, until even the scent of the incense is lost in the buzzing feeling of the energy.
Next she searches the room for the energy in the skull. It is difficult to both search and maintain the collection of energy, and several times she stops her probing for fear of losing her focus. It takes time, but she manages to find the ember of emotions in the skull, to trace the faint connection between it and the hair. And when she is sure the connection has been properly established, she lets all of her stored energy go, a torrent of it rushing along that thin pathway.
All of the candles suddenly alight and blaze with a pale green light. The armor lifts off the ground as a translucent green figure of a man appears in the items, his from gaunt, and the translucent figure of a woman is imposed over Nahia’s small form.
Faintly, the man’s voice can be heard ”Bella… is that you? Are you alright?”
Nahia can feel a new presence in her mind trying to take over, to respond, but she manages to hold it back. Suddenly, she finds the new presence pulled to the back of her mind, bound by the warm force that had occupied her earlier. Now fully in control, Nahia frowns at the figure and strongly replies ”No Richard… I was killed... Because of your weakness... Because you failed to protect me!”
The aura of grief and shame from the figure is intense, almost palpable, and Nahia fights hard to keep the emotions from filling her too. Again the figures voice echos ”I’m… sorry… I did my best...”
Nahia snaps at the man, ”Your best wasn’t good enough you lazy whelp!”
”Please… Bela… don’t speak to me that way...” the figure pleads.
Nahia’s voice is full of venom when she responds. ”It’s better than you deserve! You told me that you’d protect me! Keep me safe! And look what good it did me! And I used to think that you were so strong...”
The sounds of sobbing can be heard as another wave of sadness rolls about. The being in Nahia’s mind is struggling and thrashing to be set free. A sheen of sweat reflects the sickly light from the candles. Again, with venom, she says ”A real man wouldn’t cry! A real man would own up to it! Make amends!”
The voice softly asks ”How? How can I make this up to you!”
Ok, this is it… don’t let me down Richard…
Nahia takes a step forward and says ”She me your strength! Make me proud! Show me that I wasn’t wrong about you!” Suddenly, Nahia swings the shortsword upwards. The figure goes for his sword but he is too slow and the shortsword’s tip goes under the helmet and up into the skull, the blade finding that same notch in the jaw.
The candles go out, the armor clashes to the ground, and the energy is gone. Nahia sighs.
You let her down again Richard… Time to try again…
Nahia wipes the sweat from her eyes and kneels down to fix the chalk arrays.
- - - - -
This scene repeats several times through the night. Each time Richard is too slow. But Nahia can feel that ember of emotion growing. Each time grief and sadness give way to shame and determination. And each time he comes back a little stronger and a little faster.
But Nahia can not keep up the amount of concentration that this channeling requires, and after several hours of it she is exhausted, both physically and mentally. She decides to get some rest and try again the next night.
- - - - -
The next night Nahia recreates her ritual: the pentagram on her forehead, the arrays, the candles, everything. Again that night Richard is tormented, angered, and shamed and he continues to get closer and closer. At first, he manages to unsheath his sword. Then it is nearly in position. Nahia is about to give up for the night when he finally makes contact for the first time. Dropping to her knees in the array, Nahia wipes the sweat and blood from her forehead, taking a moment to rest.
Ok, we’re almost done. Time for the last battle of wills.
Andros nuzzles against her to reassure her. Nahia smiles at him, scratches at his head, and prepares once again for the ritual. The incense is lit, the spiritual connection is made, the candles alight pale green, and the scene replays. But when it comes time for the final strike, when Richard goes to deflect the blow, Nahia can feel a wave of intense anger, the emotion so strong as to physically move her. Richard, with every ounce of power his spirit can mutter, manages to deflect the blow, even shattering her blade.
And Nahia smiles and shouts to Andros ”Now!” The little serpent quickly dips his muzzle in a pile of finely ground chalk and begins to whirl around Richard’s array, leaving marks here and there. Finally, Nahia slides a foot to come into contact with the spectres array. Her eyes burn with a pale red light, and as she raises her hand, the candle’s green flames blaze like torches.
The smoke from the incense begins to draw itself towards the spectre, the wispy, white fingers of it condensing until it is a whirling sphere slowly closing in on the him. He tries to fight it, to push against the walls of smoke, but they are as solid to him as stone to a mortal. His newfound anger does give him strength, and Nahia finds him pushing back. But between the warmth in her head and the anger leaching out of him and into her, she manages to overpower him, the sphere growing smaller and smaller, his body shrinking, crushing, leaving only his armor to pass through the smoke, until the only thing left is Rose’s helm.
Nahia’s body is covered in sweat at the concentration required for this, but she finds the rush of power is exhilarating. Eyes opening wide in delight, teeth exposed, she brings her second hand up, the green fire of the candles blazing even higher. She starts trying to press her palms inward, and despite nothing physical between them, the faint bands of muscles in her arms are straining. The smoke of the sphere whirls and undulates, growing and shrinking in size as Richard continues to fight back.
Until he finally gives way, the sphere shrinking until it is gone. The helm crashes to the floor, cushioned by a small pile of powdered bone. Nahia drops to her knees exhausted, her breathing ragged, sweat dripping to the floor. Her curiosity is more intense than her exhaustion, however, and she reaches for the helm. Holding it in her hand, she stares at it. The front of the helm is just as mirror polished as ever, maybe even more so after removing the misfortune spirits. She worries that she has gotten it wrong and begins to examine the array for mistakes when, from the corner of her eye as she looked away, she sees the black, translucent image of a spectre hovering behind her in the reflection. But when she goes to focus on it, it is gone.
I think Rose will be pleased with this…
Smiling, she sits with her legs crossed and begins to remove the hair that had been woven into hers.
- - - - -
Grinning, Nahia excitedly says "It's done!" as the door opens.
It’s been a while spirit. I wonder if you’ve changed...
Nahia places a hand upon the wall, closes her eyes, and begins to sing. It is an old song, in an old tongue, one that Anahita taught her, a song of hidden places and lost things, a song of travels and passages. And as it continues the song echoes in the room, a room that has contained no echo before. When the song reaches its apex, the chalk lines glow with a faint light as cracks begin forming in the wall.
When the song is completed Nahia can feel a presence unseen, eyes watching her every move. She takes a step back and says ”Spirit of Doorways, of Hidden Places, this humble girl requests an audience.”
All is quiet for a moment before the outlined section of the wall slowly swings open, revealing a hallway of darkness so deep that even Nahia can not see through it. Smiling, she starts to step into the opening when a tall figure appears. It is clad in gray robes from which hang hundreds of trinkets, mostly keys but also small objects, scraps of paper, and even instruments can be seen. His face is hidden in shadows except for a long bulbous nose that protrudes from beneath the robes cowl. A low gravelly voice says ”I allowed you an audience little witch, not entrance.”
Nahia's smile lessens a bit as she nods and replies ”I meant no offense spirit. But do you not remember me?”
The figure slowly nods and responds ”I remember seeing you with your mother, yes, but you are not her. You must earn your own way.” Nahia nods and there is a deadly quiet between the two before the spirit continues ”For what reason have you beckoned me?”
”I wish for one of your blessings, great spirit. A small one.” she says, holding her silk satchel out towards him. The spirit reach out with a knobby hand and takes it from her.
”You have not yet earned the right to request gifts from me little one.” The spirit says flatly.
”I was not expecting this to be a charity and I come bearing payment.” Reaching into her robes she pulls out a small metal key. ”This is a key to an as yet unclaimed treasure hidden away from others by a great nobleman. He is unaware of this copy and there are many who would pay greatly for it, given the opportunity.”
The spirit releases a low, echoing chuckle before replying ”You know I am not interested in gold or treasure. But you also present me with a blessing I may lay upon another. And this one could open and close many pathways… I accept.”
The spirit takes the key from her and places it on his robes, swapping it for a rather small drum. He holds the drum above the satchel and strikes a short rhythm on the instrument. For a moment their is a wavy sheen to the air inside the satchel, like the air of a desert amidst a mirage. Handing the bag back, the spirit says ”There, you have been granted access to a portion of my domain.”
The figure floats backwards, fading into the dark, as the door begins to close. And right as it is about to shut, a faint echo can be heard through the room ”Until we meet again, little witch...”
Rose was sleepily disheveled as she answered the door, but at Nahia's announcement her eyes lit up and she bounced on her toes excitedly. She didn't grab the helm out of Nahia's hands, but it was clear she wanted to.
To Rose the helm looked little different, but she'd seen Nahia's power being worked. It was there, and Rose liked subtle.
Most of the time, anyway. At this particular moment she was anything but. When Nahia handed her the helm she turned it over a few times and spoke quietly.
"There is a passage from the Book of Contracts that reads No service is owed save through those of binding. All works must come with reciprocation. Do not allow yourself to be convinced of altruism, for it would take your work and give you nothing. Shun those who would speak of selflessness, through it the self is unmade. The fulfillment of terms is the greatest pursuit of life, and should be rewarded with the greatest pleasures.
Rose reached out to take Nahia's hand and pulled gently "You been up all night for three days to do this for me. Our lord would be most disappointed in you if you chose to work for nothing, and in me if I let you. You deserve a reward..."
The door clicked behind them.
Seren looks at the remaining piles of onyx in-front of her calculating the amount she still needed to complete her items. She shakes her head sadly, before heading back to her room. Not enough.
She walks slowly through the market, searching for the materials she would require to finish up her mace, and then Mysty’s rapier. She didn’t want to buy all the Onyx in town, even here it was likely that someone might know the other purpose for the gorgeous black gem. Perhaps I have enough if I get creative… Unsure of what to procure she spots out of the corner of her eye and wonderful red glint, and pile of small rubies glinting in the sun. These. These will work.
Seren looks down at the materials laid before her. Onyx, ruby, steel, and wood. She grimaces once at the task before her before reaching her hand into the forge. Regular fire won’t cut it for this weapon. She drops a small chunk of onyx into the fire, infusing it with some of her unholy power. The flames sputter for a moment before renewing with new vigor, black veins of power snaking through the air. [i]Perfect.
She then beings to forge her Mace, slowly etching a design into the original steel head. The outline complete, she slowly sprinkles powdered onyx into the depressions carved, A horrific screaming skull beginning to take shape as the onyx highlights Seren’s masterful work.
Grasping the head with both hands, she screams in pain as she forces more energy into the head, fusing the onyx with steel, Blood dripping down her skeletal hands onto the newly forged head.
Sweating and panting, she slowly releases the Mace, an exhausted grin on her face as the area around the head seems to suck in the light around it. The screaming maw seeming to swallow what little light was directed at her lovely weapon. This will work.
How to approach the rapier before her took longer then she’d like (and another trip to the market), but the halfing was still so strange to her. She mulls over her remaining ingredients, before settling on a plan.
The trail of rubies began slowly, starting at the tip of the blade, miniscule stones slowly weaving towards the guard in flowing lick of flame. Reaching the guard, Seren pauses for a moment before pulling a scroll out, This will be a new one for me. She touches the guard, trying to decipher the foreign spell as she channels her energy into the blade.
The flames begin at a stutter before spreading across the guard waiting for Seren to shape them into their final design. Slowly she forms them, creating a dancing orb of fire around the grip. Fire engulfing the hand of whoever would hold the masterful blade. Satisfied with the general shape, she releases the flames, cooling them instantly into the new design. Steel replaces the fire, metallic flames encompassing her hand as she hold the tiny weapon between pinched fingers. All that was left now was to bring some life to the flames, rubies continuing from the blade in a mesmerizing pattern down the new fiery guard.
Nahia, in her normal red outfit, kneels on the floor as she prepares for another ritual.
This one is going to be interesting. Not my usual spirit work… but not too far off either…
Again she draws a chalk array, though this one not nearly as intricate, and much smaller. Using one of her sharp fingernails, she slices open her index finger and begins to draw on the floor with her blood. This pattern is not an array, but it is quite intricate: A pentagram with a number of twisting lines and sharp points.
Next she lights a small brazier of sage incense and then just takes a moment to close her eyes, relax, and breath in the smoke. Her mind clear and calm, she picks up a lump of a silvery blue metal and holds it in her hands. She slices open her other index finger and now slowly traces her fingertips across the metal, both feeling it and leaving lines of her blood.
After several moment of this she places the now bloody lump within the design. Holding her hands over it all, she begins to concentrate, to focus on the metal, on the lines, and on the pattern she drew on the floor. Her hands start to move, almost kneading, in the air. At first, nothing happens, but then, slightly, the metal starts to shift, its shape changing slightly.
The changes happen slowly, the metal bending, folding, or flowing around the lines of blood left on it. Eventually, it’s shape is more discernible, seeming to take the same form as the pattern on the floor. Still, Nahia continues to mold it.
The shape goes through numerous shapings and refinements: first as a simple star, then empty spaces form turning it into a pentagram. Next a ring encircles it and the details become more intricate, the points of the pentagram becoming quite sharp. Next thin tendrils of metal begin to wrap around lines of the entire thing, little points appearing on them like thorns. Finally, a little loop appears on one end of the charm.
Nahia opens her eyes and looks down at the object with a smile.
Yes, this will do quite nicely. Now time to prepare it...
She retrieves a bowl and ink brush. Holding her hand above the bowl, she slices her palm open, letting the blood drip and fill the bowl. When she has collected enough she licks her palm clean before grabbing a cloth and holding it tightly to cover the wound.
Using her other hand she takes a handful of ashes from the incense and mixes them in with her blood, the mixture turning a dark red. Taking the brush in hand, she dips it in the mixture and begins to write on the pentagram. She does this for hours, very carefully filling the thing with tiny prayers to Asmodeus and magical incantations, until the entire surface is covered in writing.
Almost done… time to seal it…
Taking the bundle of incense from its container, she holds it in front of the pentagram and slowly starts to blow the smoke over the item. The blood script begins to glow a faint red before it begins to melt and run across the surface of the trinket. It flows along the twisting metal vines until it settles in the thorns, giving the metal there a faint red hue.
Putting the incense back, Nahia takes the charm, about the size of the palm of her hand, and loops a chain made of a similar metal through it. Placing it around her neck, she holds the pendant in her hand. It grows quite warm, as warm as she is, and she can feel it pulsing faintly in her hand in time with her own heartbeat.
Finally, the takes the cloth off of her open palm and places the wound to the charm. It grows warmer and she can feel the blood being pulled out of the wound.
A wide grin on her face, she softly says ”It’s perfect.”
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@All
After all you preparation, purchases, magic items creation, information gathering, you decide it's time to explore the Briar.
When the when you are about to leave, you receive message from Elise, informing that she is ready and all is set up.
“When you do find the Horn of Abaddon, contact me.” her note says finally.
==//==
It is perhaps startling how little exploration has been done of the Caer Bryr by the inhabitants of Farholde. There is a simple reason for this -- the Caer Bryr is phenomenally dangerous. When Farholde was conquered almost three centuries ago, a number of expeditions set out to explore the jungle. None of them ever came back.
Every few decades a new generation gets the brilliant idea -- let’s explore the Briar! The results are usually much the same -- few survivors. What survivors do come back relate tales of an endless wilderness of monsters and barbarians. And so the people of Farholde keep to their hills.
==//==
The northern Caer Bryr is a temperate rain forest richly blessed with rain fall and broadleaf trees. The trees here are tall and broad. The thick-trunked baobab tree, unusual in such a wet clime, is common here and grows to enormous size. It is not uncommon to see trees hundreds of feet tall with trunks twenty feet across. To walk into the deep Briar is to enter the domain of giants.
Every flat surface is covered with brilliant green moss and lichens in every hue. Mushrooms of a million sorts proliferate and crowd every fallen log. Small animal life is dense -- squirrels, voles, mice and white-faced ghost monkeys. Birds dwell here in endless variety and dazzling panoramas of plumage are everywhere on display. It is a bountiful place rich and thriving with nature’s splendor.
Perhaps the single most famous feature of the northern Briar are the great stone spires. They proliferate everywhere in this jungle rising hundreds of feet above the forest floor. Often covered in foliage, they are the home to countless small animals. These are natural spires though the Iraen are full of stories about how they were carved by ancient giants.
This is how the entire region looks like.
This is how the Horn looks like.
After all of your preparation, and with Kael’s map, finding the Horn is an easy thing.
During his stay in the city, Hound purchased a Handy Haversack, a Masterwork Lucerne Hammer and a heavy combat trained horse for the journey into the forest.
He changed his disguise to a somewhat ill-kept woodsman with unkempt beard and furred cloak with brownish-green clothing.
Hound was certainly relieved to be out of town and in his element, the scents of the wild invigorated him and he rode along in good spirits.
As Seren worked one morning she eventually became aware of Rose quietly watching. She hadn't said anything, so it was hard to tell how long she's been there. She passed Seren a waterskin and said "I didn't want to interrupt. Looks like hard work."
"I came because I was hoping you might be willing to improve my shield." her eyes fell on the demon-headed mace Seren was working on. "Wow... That looks amazing!"
Rose's had gone out with Hound and Mysty to secure supplies while Seren and Nahia finished their work. She went about shopping for adventuring supplies with the same glee that most young women reserved for fancy dresses (not that she didn't love fancy dresses also, she simply had a broader spectrum of tastes). She bustled between shops and kiosks crossing things off the list Seren and Nahia had provided them.
"I hope the herbalist and chymist know what these things are, because I sure don't. Nahia's shopping list reads like she just made up a bunch of words and send us out on a snipe hunt."
While on the edge of their next adventure, Rose leaned over from her new steed to look at the map in Mysty's hands.
"Looks simple enough. I'm not much for this sort of wilderness though. I don't think I'm going to be much use in the navigation department."
We leave tomorrow to start our next big mission. It sounds like it is going to be difficult and dangerous. But that’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to relax and enjoy myself.
Reaching the inn Elisa was staying at, Nahia heads around the back alley and looks carefully to make sure no one is watching. The is a brief gust of wind as she begins to lift in the air, her clothes and hair undulating as if she were in water. She reaches the second floor window to Elise’s room and looks inside for anyone.
No one’s home. She must be out doing something important. Or at least interesting. Hmmm… maybe I’ll give her a little surprise.
Nahia reaches into her robes and removes Andros. Petting his head she whispers to him ”Mind giving me a little hand?” before holding him towards the window.
Andros given and affirmative his and looks towards the window. Spotting the simple latch he bobs his head, as if dancing to some unheard song. The latch hook slowly lifts itself and then falls to the side. Quickly, Nahia steps inside and again comes to rest on the ground. Closing and re-latching the window, pets Andros’ head again, saying ”Where would I be without you?”
He nods and hisses back ”Getting arrested for breaking a window...”
Nahia grins at him before placing him around her neck and looking around. There is not much to the room and it seems likely that Elise only uses the place to sleep or keep up appearances. Still, this was the best way that Nahia knew to find her.
And since she had been having such long nights lately enchanting items and binding spirits, she decided that a good nap was in order. As such, she climbed into Elise’s soft bed and promptly fell asleep, her head awash in thoughts and dreams of the future, of comfort, and of companions.
- - - - -
Nahia, disguised as her green dressed herbalist, smiles at the woods. It had been a long time since she had been in something this beautiful and she had missed the many scents and sounds of a wetland forest. Deciding to relax during this return to nature, she retrieves her pipe and begins taking small puffs on it as she responds to Rose. ”I’m not going to be of much help navigating either, but I can pick out what plants and mushrooms will be safe. And looking at this place it looks like there will be no shortage of food.”
I can help navigate and can hunt for food.
"I brought food." Rose said taking a bite of some kind of sugary confectionary she'd picked up on their shopping trip. [b]"How long did you expect to be out here."
As you approach the Horn, the trees seems to come to life, moaning and contorting themselves, their branches moving in your direction, but it does not gives a feeling it will attack immediately.
All the trees seems to have moved, however only one of them seems to be ‘alive’, and that’s the one that came to speak with you, however, two more nearby trees uprooted themselves.
A huge tree, uproots itself and walks in your direction, it stops some feet’s from you and from it, you hear an old, ancient voice. “You have happened upon the Horn of Abaddon,” it lectures, “a cursed place once of great corruption. It is my sacred charge to see that evil never again takes root here,” he points in the contrary direction you were heading ”go back, there’s nothing for you in those ruins.”
Hound mutters. Only three trees seem to have actually uprooted themselves, the talking one and two nearby.
|
|
Mysty maintains the disguise she had in town
Mysty is riding a pony she picked up in town. She looks with some amazement at the sight before her.
well that's something I have never seen before. A talking tree!
and if it doesn't get out of our way, it's firewood
Mysty rests her hand on her rapier as she waits.
Seren looks down at her mace and smiles. "It'll do. Though I still have some ideas for improvements."
Seren looks critically at Nahia's shield, estimating the time involved in altering it. "It could be done. Have to finish Mysty and mine's first. So probably be a couple of days, and I'm going to need some gems, specifically some Citrine, ruby, and onyx." Seren states ideas forming in her mind.
----------Rose Shield--------------
Seren thanks Rose as she comes back with the necessary materials. "This will do fine."
The first part of the creation begins with the etching of the scales of justice centered on the shield, the left scale lower than the right. Next followed the sunburst behind the scales, creating the standard Mitran symbol with just a small alteration. The etching done Seren looks at the pile of gems beside her, smiling. They're very pretty.
She begins sorting the piles, planning the layout of the stone inlays within the shield. Starting from the right the scales and sunburst begin with the Citrine, the shield shining gold in the light of the forge. Slowly as she moves across the shield, the citrine are first intermixed then replaced with a combination of onyx and ruby, their dark shine slowly corrupting the golden glow of the Mitran scales and burst. Seren takes a step back, marvelling at how the darkness appears to be tipping the scales in its favor as it diminishes the holy light. Satisfied with the look of the shield, Seren adds a final tribute to their lord, an inverted pentagram created by the layout of the gems making the core of the sunburst, hiding in plain site within the “holy” symbol of Mitra.
"Well, wasn't expecting that." Seren replies, staring up at the tree blocking their path.
"Well I'm not exactly in the mood for turning around... Mysty... You like fire don't you?" Seren recommends.
Well, it’s a plant, and such as that, it has all of the plants natural immunities.
Such as that, slashing weapons works better against it, but this one seems to be unlike any treant you ever heard about.
Unlike most treants, this creature appears to be a moss-covered dead tree, with bare branches stretched toward the sky. Such creatures are rumored to be evil. This one is clear outside that norm. Unlike normal treants, fire does not work on it, and they have magical abilities.
Like the normal treant, they can control nearby trees.
Nahia sighs heavily at how this conversation is going.
Of course this is a time when I don't have our communication spell going...
Watching the tree, she whispers to Seren "It's... not that kind of tree..."
Moving forward slightly, Nahia calls out to the guardian, saying "Oh great one of the forest. We apologize for the intrusion, we meant no disrespect. We shall take our leave."
Ok everyone, please either play along, or make the surprise attack really good. Please...
The tree keep still while the party discuss and plan how better to kill it, but it’s clear that it is hearing everything that is being said.
Then Nahia steps and address the tree in the language of the Forrest, to which the guardian simply does not say anything. However, he makes no mention of attacking either.
With no understanding of the situation, the ogre that has been following you from afar since you left town, steps in the guardian glade.
”What are you un’s doing?” he asks puzzled.
Hound rolls his eyes at Seren's telegraphing of their intent and gets ready to dismount. He looks at Grumblejack. Oh well, I have been spoiling for a fight for quite sometime.
”Adventurers.” the voice says ”You are preparing for your own death.” the ancient voice says with no emotion ”There is nothing for you here. No treasure. No secret wealth.” a moment pass as the trees around begin to stir once more.
”It is my sacred duty to prevent foolish youths such as you to die in vain in this cursed place.” the tree says.
"If the curse could be lifted, would you be able to stop guarding this place?" Rose asked innocently.
The treant seems to consider how to answer, but then it simply says ”There is no curse to be lifted.”
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Rose looked confused. "You literally just said "this cursed place." If it isn't a curse, then what is it?"
*Ahem* I believe that is just a figure of speech. 'This bloody place, this damned place.' said about somewhere that is despised.
The tree just stares at Rose after her question, at Hound explanation and says nothing, just waiting as it has been doing for decades.