Silt leaps up, with the jar in hand. He aims it at the fang that rears inches above his head!
It pierces the meaty lid, and acid splashes into the jar.
He then snatches the jar off the fang, covers it with a stone. He rolls aside as Karl thumps down to the ground, trying to shake off Cedar.
Silt pulls an entire yellowfin tuna from his backpack, flashes it back and forth in front of the serrated mandibles, and chucks it far back into the glade.
Jump!
Karl turns as the bright fishtail sails away into the sunshine.
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Spitting and hissing, Karl runs off after the tuna. Cedar cheers Karl on and then spots a low hanging branch and pulls himself up.
He watches as the ankheg continues into the woods. Climbing down, Cedar tightens his bandana as he approaches Silt with a wide grin.
”Did you get it? Tell me you got it.”
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Silt whistles at Cedar's amazing backflips. There is a faint sound of tiny fins clapping under the straw hat.
Silt puts his hands behind his back. Oh… I forgot!
He grins and shows the bottle, a livid fluid sloshing around. Only a rass-berry brain would tell Cedar to leap for naught!
A horrendous and indignant chittering suddenly fills the meadow. Silt cocks his head to listen; a decapitated tuna-head careens by, inches from his ear-hole.
Fish is not to Karl's tatse. Warm-blooded things maybe nicer… The tall brush starts trembling — something large is coming closer. Silt glances at Cedar. You may want to return… running; I will, too.
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”What?!” Cedar says as Karl bursts from the tall brush with a screech and a spray of acid. “Why did you feed him fish?! Run!”
But Karl is too close and too fast with six legs.
When Cedar reaches the edge of the meadow, he pulls the crooked sign from the ground and swings it menacingly at Karl.
”Back, Karl! Stay back!”
Karl stops running, rearing up. His spit singes the edges of the wooden sign, but he doesn’t advance any further.
Cedar backs away slowly as Karl hisses. Then, throwing down the sign, Cedar turns and runs all the way back home.
Silt frowns at the wanton lack of respect for his property. A piece of tuna-tail splaters agaisnt the sign, trailing pink guts.
Back at base, Silt places the jar on a kitchen table. He lifts the chunk of limestone off the lid, closes his eyes, and breathes deep the acrid odor pouring forth. Karl, so kind. So helpful.. Be blinks at Cedar. Now… rass-berry snares. Many white grubs and pale tubers, in the gardens to protect — but how?
In a pastoral glade not far from town, a billygoat idly chews its cud and watches Silt prod a berry-bush with two long sticks. Minutes later, the locathah withdraws a pristine pod that glints on the end of a stick. After carefully placing the rass-berry into a lined basket, he pokes the bush again; the indolent goat chews on.
Silt returns home just before sunset; no one is there. He piles the fresh berries onto a cream-colored plate, and leaves them on the dark oak table under the open window. He walks off to find Cedar, thinking of all the horrible ways they might experiment on this evil harvest.
In a succulent pool of the day's last golden light, berries twinkle.
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"Ooh, raspberries! Don't mind if I do!" Toby grabs a small handful of berries as he walks by, popping them into his mouth one at a time as he walks out the door.
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Cedar is digging a hole near the edge of Karl’s meadow.
”I don’t know about this,” he says, putting down the shovel for a moment as Silt approaches. ”It’s going to take a lot of pit traps to secure this area...”
In the bottom of the hole he’s thrown a handful of raspberries and the jar of Karl’s acid hangs above it from a string on a rod.
Cedar takes off his bandana and wipes the sweat from his face.
”Silt, I think it’s time I told you, it’s not the raspberries I’m worried about. It’s the cokers and monkey goblins, and maybe even worse.
Dark eyes flash in a cave by the sea.
Cedar shivers.
”I think you should make your peace with the raspberries. My hope is that maybe, one day, when you’ve got the magic for it, you can talk to the raspberries directly and just have it out. ‘Cause I really think they’re the least of our worries.”
He smiles and adds, ”Also, I think they taste delicious.”
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Earlier in the previous few days...
Joli looks with empathy at Silt as he rants against rass-berries for the tenth time since dawn. I don't like 'em that much either. But fruit... I miss tasty fruit. What's there to find hereabouts?
On a whim, he wanders a little ways into the island interior in search of fruit-bearing trees. He climbs up into the canopy and leaps from tree to tree in search of edible goodness.
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”I think you should make your peace with the raspberries. My hope is that maybe, one day, when you’ve got the magic for it, you can talk to the raspberries directly and just have it out. ‘Cause I really think they’re the least of our worries.”
Silt stares at Cedar, bewildered. Deceitful rass-berries only tell lies!.
He gestures at the window. I left a dish of them on the table under that very window… now, many have left. Seeds of evil spread on the wind, even now! They have not invaded my tuber-garden yet, but we must be wary, Cedar!
Earlier that same day, Purpose Creche sits atop the roof of his home and watches Sil'tchaak plod off towards Karl's field.
Many strange friends on this island.
He plucks at the harp in a futile attempt to emulate the oneness he hears in Joli Toli's croaks, but stops when he hears footsteps within. The wyrwood steps daintily to the edge of the roof and peers over.
"Ooh, raspberries! Don't mind if I do!", comes the muffle exclamation from below. Toby emerges, muzzle tipped back, happily tossing a berry at a time into his mouth.
Purpose Creche waves a thin arm and calls out. "Toby." The rougarou's eyes widen in surprise, and a bit of raspberry pulp plops onto the ground.
The wyrwod's supple fingers twine with the thatch, holding him steady as he flips over the edge of the roof, releases his grip, and lands gracefully.
He walks to Toby and dips a finger into the pulp; it comes away glistening. "I'm not spying. But I am curious." He extends his index finger to show Toby the raspberry. "Silt despises these. I don't understand. They smell nice. They're aesthetically pleasing. Tell me, how do they taste?"
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"Oh, hi Purpose! Raspberries are delicious! They taste sweet and tart and....um, bright. They taste bright. I guess that's not really a taste, is it, but that's the best I can describe them."
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Purpose Creche cocks his head to one side. "Bright." He brings the red mess up to his eyeband. "I see no reason metaphor cannot mix with food. Hm. Bright."
He straightens. "I have learned, I think, to carefully consider how Silt's opinions interact with most others'. Enjoy your bright berries."
Walking back towards the house, he smears the raspberry paste on the sloped wood of his face. "Ah. Smell, but still no taste."
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Joli returns from foraging with a laden sack. He happens upon a sweaty Cedar, the colony's new trapsmith.
"Cedar, I've some new fruits for Silt to taste. I pray they're friend not foe, that we might spare Karl's glands. Care to try?"
He opens the bag to reveal fresh papayas and mangos, and a melon-shaped green ball with a course skin. "This last one's sweet and starchy. I think it'll cook well. Mayhap tasty with crawdads." His long tongue flicks out, licking his lips and then some.
He takes out his long dagger and cuts into a mango. "Have you tasted these? This one tastes more like burnt honey than others I've tasted."
Popping a chunk into his mouth, he considers Cedar. "Your eyes sure are unusual for a human. Is that more common where you're from?"
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Cedar greets Joli with a smile, puts his shovel aside, and takes a bite of the proffered fruit,
”Delicious,” he says, wiping the juice from his beard. ”I have to say, I don’t know what to think about this whole raspberry thing. Silt’s a quirky guy. I can’t understand his taste buds, but he’s not harming me much. Karl’s a different story though,” Cedar adds with a laugh.
He puts a hand to the small of his back and stretches: forward, back, left, right.
”My eyes probably are unusual for a human. These hands too.” He flexes his knobby fingers with their thick, dark nails. ”That’s to be expected though, I guess, because I’m not human. Not entirely. My mother was a sea hag. She left me on a doorstep in a small fishing village when I was a baby and hoped I’d grow up someday to subvert the village from within. Obviously that never happened.”
He takes another bite of mango and the juice runs again down his chin.
”Yo ho, these are good. How many did you pick?”
As we await Silt's reaction to the mango, a flash forward to the celedons.
The stone creatures react excitedly to Purpose's responses in Azlant.
The celedons look momentarily sad, but then brighten.
Purpose Creche nods respectfully and speaks to the celedons.
He turns towards the others.
"Oh, that's wonderful! You already speak the language! You didn't learn it from Eliza, then? We had to teach her Azlanti first, before we could start her lessons on Acavna, but then she never came back."
"But now you're here! And you even speak Azlanti already! We can get right into theology lessons. Though it seems like your friends need some more Azlanti lessons; I'm not sure they understand us."
"Eliza Haniver was a farmer. Possibly an authority figure in opposition to Rayland Arkley. I will ask them about her. About what they discussed," he addends in quietly.
He once again addresses the celedons.
*** Flashback***
Silt was mysteriously gone all night… he arrives the next morning as the group departs. Unfortunately, any taste testing will have to wait until the next opportunity.
***
Back in the present, Silt merely looks bemused. He stretches, tilts his hat down, yawns, and leans against Karl.
Present moment:
"I’d love to learn Azlanti. Do they offer daily lessons? Maybe we could arrange for daily lunches while we learn. I see a breadfruit tree over there!"
The statues beam serenely.
For once, Purpose Creche's emotionlessness is a boon. He turns to his friends.
"Do not be alarmed or react hastily. They say we must begin theology lessons now. 'For our own good.'"
He repeats the celedons' words. "Wait for you? But you must all begin your lessons now. Eliza was our first pupil in so many years, but she never returned. So you see, we can't let you leave here until you have all been properly instructed on Acavna. It is for your own good."
He cocks his head. "I do not know if this is an implicit threat. Regardless, we should stay and listen for now. There is much to learn, both of ancient Azlant, Acavna," he turns back to the celedons and nods before readdressing the others, ", and hopefully Eliza's fate."
He straightens.
”She went north, toward the tower.” They point toward the tower marked on your map.
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Joli brightens and speaks his mind. "Can. You. Understand. My. Words? We want to bring Eliza back so we can all learn together. But we must follow her now!"
He jumps back in forth in a friendly dance.
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"Yeah, we'll bring her back so you can teach her!"
They murmur between themselves.
"Yes, if you bring Eliza back, then she can return to her lessons as well. But how do we know that you will return?"
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Joli kneels and doffs his tricorne, to which a surprised Iggi clings. "I swear upon milady Rillsong, she who carries your words to my ears upon the sea breeze. I swear upon all who wish to be free from skum but bound to the tides of moon."
Purpose Creche translates, then explains Joli's response.
He continues.
They seem unmoved by a plea to a different god, but slightly more moved by Purpose’s plea of genuine interest. They confer.
”You must leave something here. Something that you will have to come back for.”
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Purpose Creche extends a hand, fingers twined around the Azlanti wayfinder.
They turn to each other. "This is acceptable. We will see you when you return, and we will teach you of Acavna. In exchange, you may look in the buildings. Perhaps you will find something useful."
To Cedar (translated by Purpose), "We cannot leave. Our duty, our purpose, is to guard this place. We have never been anywhere else."
A very nice darkwood chest contains a stone tablet carved with an image of a strange tower on an island. There are 230 gp worth of Azlant-minted gold coins and a primatic crystal. There is a dark blue cloak embroidered with the phases of the moon (cloak of resistance +1) and prismatic crystal.
The other building has a telescope, but the crystal lens is shattered. A casting of make whole would likely repair it.
In the process of saying goodbyes and promising returns, Purpose Creche adds another question for the celedons.
"Do you know what that tower is? What is inside?"
They look off toward the tower and then shrug.
"We do not know."
"It is not relevant to our mission."
Joli walks up to the celedons and asks, "How do you say, 'I'm grateful' in Azlant? If I were to repeat it back to youas my first lesson, it would be true!" He bows deeply, his sheathed rapier jutting out to his right.
Purpose Creche focuses on the wayfinder the celedons now hold. A small thing compared to the knowledge they hold.
He speaks up once Joli and the celedons' exchange is done.
"Ablative case. Feelings of appreciation emanate from you. Usually towards an indistinct target. Particularly formal construction exist which contain indirect objects. Less common. Less appropriate in this context."
He notes the lightness of his left coat pocket as he prepares to set off towards the tower.
The celedons happily give Joli the translation, and would very well continue on with the lesson.
The group departs. The evening grows near, but presumably you don't wish to camp too close to the celedons, in case they go back on their word.
As you approach the site of the tower, you spot a trail. It is one you have seen before, though this one looks much fresher.
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"I’m grateful!!"
"Farewell!"
* * *
Joli examines the tracks, which are new to him.
"Silt thought land-shrimp. But we haven't seen what creates these tracks."
Purpose Creche wraps fingers around a vial of alchemist's fire and displays it to Cedar. "Do you carry yours? We'll need them if these shrimp are hostile."
The forest gives way to shattered fragments of rock and stone, the barest recognizable remnants of a lost civilization. Jutting from the grass and shrubs is a stone promenade, ten feet wide with intermittent flights of short steps that climb up a gentle slope—miraculously unchanged despite titanic upheaval of the past. Walkways extend east and west briefly before terminating into hills of wind-eroded stone rubble that might have once been buildings. A solitary, seemingly intact tower is visible on the northern horizon, approximately a mile away.
From off in the distance, a carpet of tiny steel spheres rolls towards you.
Three of the bushes hide small holes, dug by Karl's distant relatives perhaps. There are tiny-sized tunnels going between them (marked with dotted lines). Large piles of rock are a DC 0 Climb check to enter the first square, and all rock piles are difficult terrain. You are at the bottom of the stairs.
You see it coming from a ways off, so you have a couple of rounds to prepare.
This is a little weird, but you can have two rounds of actions to prepare as it comes closer from off the map, and then we'll go into initiative.
Toby
Joli
Silt
Cedar
1000 ball bearings
Purpose
Toby moves over and watches the swarm approach. Water begins, once again, to leak from Toby's pours as he blasts the ball bearings the moment they come within 120ft.
"Artificial beings. Hundreds. Aggressive." He pulls the alchemist's fire from his coat. "Not land-shrimp. But maybe similarly cookable."
The charred prayerbook's pages ruffle in an invisible breeze, and Purpose Creche's senses sharpen; a brief flash of a thousand spheres rolling down a spiral path.
He then dashes towards the nearby tree, wraps lithe fingers around branches, and pulls himself into its boughs.
They have a normal swarm attack. However, the balls have little spikes. If the spikes are retracted, then you have to make a Reflex save to avoid falling down when you take swarm damage. If the spikes are extended, then you take bleed damage when you take swarm damage.
Someone on a floating disk would be safe.
So that's pre-combat actions from Toby and Purpose. Silt, Cedar, and Joli may still take pre-combat actions, then we go to initiative.