The grig offers a combination nod and puts his hands in the air as though to fend off some imaginary insult, those seeming wholly confusing in his response. Well, no but...well...yes. I mean, the fiddle playing is important and it can solve a great many things but if the dryad is asking for help so directly it...well...just seems like a better idea to send you. He offers a conciliatory shrug.
"We will make it a priority. It is her forest after all." Ra'hl offers a half smile, unsure how to handle such a creature, glancing between Duska and Matt for support.
Duška nods reassuringly to Ra'hl
Aye Drakblood it is her's. But we shall protect it and Tiressia...
The grig smiles wide and nods in thanks and then makes his way off the table, stopping only to yell Due east from here. I think the raven is waiting so Duska should see him to guide you the rest of the way!! and with that he departs.
Osk comes in a moment later and clears his throat. The ranger report? Or should that wait? It sounds like some of you might need to leave?
"We are already gathered, let the ranger speak."
Duška smiles at the grig as he (melo)dramatically makes his exit.
She edges forward in her chair, eager to make tracks, yet also keen to hear the ranger's report...
The ranger, a young man named Chelnik, enters with a bit of a frown. It is clear the ranger has done his best to brush his clothes and his hair and beard but it only helps to emphasize that he is a man used to living in the wild and rarely the sort to be inside.
Nonetheless he bows to the council and then sits, I come with word from the south that we have successfully finished our efforts and securing a way station south of the myriad waters that border the city and have now begun ranging in earnest.
It is clear that the Staglord kept his efforts north due to the harshness of the terrain and its inhabitants. While the mix of terrain from woodlands to field remain, we have found thicker growths and, more importantly, evidence of greater threats. In no less than three rangings we believe we have seen evidence of large predators, over man sized perhaps wolves. There is some evidence of undeath to the southeast and we beleive we may have found the tracks of a small giant...or troll.
The ranger shifts in his chair, clearly unnerved by that particular prospect.
For now the teams are tasked with reconnaissance only and will update the chain of command when there is more but we did find one thing we felt was worthy of immediate concern. Not far to the south of our city here, in a lake that forms off that which borders us we have found an island and a tower. Strange sounds have come from the site so we have not yet opted to explore it. We thought we would ask or guidance...
Ra'hl remains silent but does cast a questioning glance to Duska. While news of a strange tower and giants were certainly a concern, he was curious why Chelnik is bringing this report to them, rather than giving it to Duska and allowing her to bring it before the council.
Duška shoots back quizzical look at Ra'hl;
What Darkblood? What? Is Duška so pretty that you wish to look often? Is news that Chelnik brings for Duška to deal with? Ai Maminka if only I could read thoughts as well as the cards
The lithe half-elf rises from her seat to address the ranger;
"Děkuji Chlnik. Thank you for these tidings. Fell though they may be. The steps of trol or giant yes? Nemrtvých... undeath too. Ne good. Perhaps others have thoughts on the tower? But on the threats living and dead... we must act."
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At hearing the reports of the Undead Fergus leaps out of his seat and thunders, Aye, Undeath is a scourge on the land and I will not allow it to persist. I agree that action should be taken for Undeath has no place in these woods among the living. He waits to see how others react his body tensed up as his gaze scans around the large meeting hall.
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The ranger nods after Regus knowingly, Indeed. The affliction seems minor and contained but I worry about the potency of the source. My own knowledge on the matter leads me to believe that the site of befoulment must be gaining in some power to allow its curse to creep further. We will find the source, but I worry we are not prepared to attend to it...
I hate to be the sort to bring a report where I tell you of such things and then tell you to be patient as our groups find the sources. But I thought it best to inform first before a rare circumstance where our rangers perish in finding these threats rather than come to you unbidden demanding aid without warning. Even now the Lovecký Pes ride under cover of night to hunt the maker of the steps and other of my contingent range to better estimate where the undead might be ranging from. I hope to have word soon.
Cuddles understand just enough through Anton's translations to understand what is happening.
I FINISH PROJECTS TONIGHT. WE GO IN MORNING?
The ranger leaves, nodding to the council and Osk returns, Did I hear morning then? To the dryad grove I assume? I'll make ready your horses. Would you want a contingent to escort you? I would assume not given Duska's many notes to me about the presence of armed soldiers en mass in the forest but...you are the high council and I would be remiss in not at least asking...
"Yes the morning seems best. Thank you all for coming, and for the council you have provided."
Signalling over to Pip, the halfling quickly makes his way to Ra'hl's seat. Ra'hl leans in whispering, "Can you tell me what a Dryad is tonight, and what role they play in a forrest. I would like to know a little about them before meeting one."
Cuddles rises and leaves. His work crew works late into the night to finish up their projects before the party sets out.
Duška too stands, hard faced at the series of grim tidings.
She addresses her fellow Council members as they break their meeting;
"No army shall enter the woods yes? We hunt on the morrow..."
The meeting ends and the day begins anew.
Matt and Anton each express reasons of their own for not joingin the foray instead intending to deal with matters of state.
This leaves Duska, Rahl, Cuddles and Fergus as the group. A young woodsman names Lane is sent by Matt to guide the group towards the grove as he has traveled that section often (though never chanced across a grove).
With Lane in the lead and on horses the group manages the woods skillfully and a great deal faster than normal. However, by estimation of Duska based on the grig's assessment it is still two days to the grove.
The woods bustle with energy, and some is indeed sinister. Long have these wood been without the influence of humanity or its demihuman cousins and the recent spate of activity gives an earnest sense of agitation about the place.
Lane suggest watches. Cuddles volunteers to be up "during the dark" at the mid watch. Lane recommends he takes the first, leaving Fergus, Duska and Rah' each to vouch for a shift...
Ra'hl will ask, "Would it not be better to walk. The woods are thick and it would be hard on the animals. Not to mention, from what I've learned of the fey, they seem to have a bond with nature. I would prefer not to have our first impression be that we force animals into service."
Ra'hl will offer to take either the last or first shift. He is unaccustomed to interrupted rest and would be more alert at the beginning or end shifts.
As the group journey through the woods Duška constantly scouts ahead, seemingly unaffected by the terrain or the wyrd atmosphere...
When they make camp she smiles mischievously at Ra'hl's words;
"Wise words Drakblood... You will be a cunning panovník... ruler yet I think!"
As talk shifts to watches she muses for a second, then claims the last on the dawn of the morrow;
"Svítání I shall watch o'er. Daybreak."
Lane nods at his Lord High Councillor, Indeed sir it would be faster, were I not so sure of the paths. And closer still it may be we need to dismount if this grove is near the area I understand it to be. The fey of the wood know our relationship to the horse and hound, my ma always said they judge us ill only if we treat thems that serve us poorly, which you'll not find a horse as better cared for then this lot I assure you. Most of our animals love the work, but I think its cuz we have true rangers and riders among us in these lands. We treat our horses fair, we treat the nature right. The fey see that I think.
The watches rotate with ease and the forest, for all its sounds and motion, opts to leave the party alone this night.
Travel continues at a decent pace, Lane seemingly as proficient as his word. For the most part the travel is quick with little exotic to see although occasionally the sounds of the forest indicate that there are plenty of mysteries for the truly aware...
:
"Lane has the measure of the fey and The Wild yes. Mark his words."
As the group move through the woodland - Duška maintains a focus on the path ahead and the arrival at the grove...
Cuddles sees many things, but none of them are strange or magical.
Keeping a close eye out Fergus watches the forest around him.
Lane manages to guide the group further in faster than he has hope though the underbrush increases and the trails decrease, forcing the party onto its feet and off the horses. Soon, it is hard for the horses to move at all and a single path lay to west, almost imperceptable yet somehow quite clear to the group.
I believe this leads to the grove the fey have asked you to attend to. I will wait here with the horses.
Duška slides effortlessly off her horse, then nods toward Ra'hl;
"You first Drakblood. The Vodní nymfa like handsome men yes? You might charm her yes?"
The fey-touched ranger smiles wryly as if she had made a joke.
"Do not worry. I vill be behind you yes?"
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Ra'hl blushes lightly at the compliment, unsure what a dryad even is, unsure if Duska is genuine or teasing. Still, he will assume his place in the lead, so long as Duska is nearby to guide him.
Wish you the best, hope you get better soon take your time, wrecks can be rough.
The trees seems a solid corridor of almost black until the part quite suddenly finds a sun daple exit that leads to a broad expanse of glade with warm light from above. A small pond lies placidly at the roots of a gigantic oak tree with a scattering of leaves floating upon its surface. Birdsong twitters from high above.
At the waters edge a woman of great beauty draped in foliage and and vines that fall like an elegant dress, weeps. Her golden red and gold hair, which appears more like a weave of leaves, hangs to obscure her face. She hesitates as Ra'hl and company break the tree line and looks up from her troubles, her voice clear and high in the glade,
Who has come upon my sheltered home?
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The look on Cuddles' face seems to indicate that he's trying to figure the lady with the leafy hair out. He's actually trying to figure out the tunnel of trees. That would look lovely leading up to the front door of the church he was planning.
Duška nods in reverence to the autumnal fey as the group approach.
She steps ahead of Ra'hl, then to the side as the lithe ranger speaks in a strange, melodic tongue
"Cyfarchion Tiressia morwyn coed. Rydym yn dod o Hydd-Disgyn. Mae hyn yn ein Brenin Ra'hl y ddraig-gwaed - yn rhyfelwr mawr a phren mesur o ddynion."
Duška gestures toward Ra'hl with proud smile before continuing;
"Rydym wrando ar y geiriau ffrind fey Tyg-Tigger-tut. Mae'n dweud eich drafferthion Tiressia of-the-llwyn. Rydym wrando ar ei eiriau. Rydym yn gwrando ar eich galwad. Rydym yn cynnig i'n cymorth!"
We heed the words of fey friend Tyg-Tigger-Tut. He tells of your troubles Tiressia of-the-grove. We heed his words. We heed your call. We offer our aid!
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Ra'hl is struck by the woman's beauty, shocked that no one warned him what enchanting grace she would have. He clears his throat to speak, I am Ra'hl Rogarvia, first of his name. Blood of the Conqueror and the true and rightful Heir to the Dragonscale Throne. King of All Brevoy, in the Name of Choral, Lord of Issia and Prince of Rostland, Suzerain of New Stetven, Overlord of Restov, and Defender of the Lake of Mists and Veils. A lord of many titles, that mean little in these woods. The wind whispers that you are in need of aid, and we have come to answer that call. Please, speak that I may dry your tears."
Ra'hl listens to Duska emerge and speak, catching nothing other than his name.
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The dryad demures at the elegance of Duska's words and the raw vigor of Ra'hls introduction. Rising from her place she offers a light smile, a creature clearly aware that her beauty is beyond that of normal measure. Yet she seems restrained in her manner and slowly approaches keeping her words in the common tongue,
That my brawd grig to the north would be so moved to cease his pranks and song to seek aid is touching and I shall kiss his lips when I see him next, if my grove survives its plight. Few of the folk have been brave in my time of troubles but I see it is because a dragon sleeps along the edge of the wood...
The dryad approaches Ra'hl with an air that borders on provocative or sensual but the party (save for Cuddles perhaps) knows enough of the famed dryads to know that their power of beauty and sexual energy are beyond normal "civilized" custom. She stops short of the bloodrager and smiles again only to pause and tilt her heard to something behind her.
Emerging from the woods a satyr appears, apparently wounded but armed and glowering at the group. He keeps his distance but seems displeased. Tiressia smiles again,
My consort. My bravest enaid. He darkens like a spring time cloud at the thought of needing aid...at the thought of taming the dragon and binding him to the grove...but he fears an
amhosibilrwydd, he is mine and I his. No matter how tempting the dragon is...
The dryad smiles again and takes a step back. Looking over the group again with unearthly eyes of amber and gold.
Duška smiles at the dryad's melodic words, then throws a sly wink toward Ra'hl, clearly proud of her King, and his bearing.
The lithe ranger eyes the wounded satyr, but pursues with another question;
"This plight. This threat. We mean to help yes? What is its nature..."
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Ra'hl can not steer his eyes away from the enchanting beauty of the creature before him. Her air alluring, her stride captivating, and as she approached his head swam with her intoxicating scent. Ra'hl can feel the dragon's blood stirring as it boils in desire for her, he clinches his hand tight, fighting against his impulse.
"A dragon would be a fool to stand against you in your own forest. We come as friends to aid you, please tell us what we can do for you."
The dryad offers a slight tilt to her head. For many it would seem a bashful move but in the fey it seems to take an almost conversational acceptance of the strong words of commitment offered her.
The dryad motions to the glad by the lake, Please sit and I will tell you my tale of woe.
Tiressia moves simply assuming the others will follow and continues once everyone has come to sit on the soft and luscious grass, A terrible malevolence has stolen a glimmer of the enaid of the woods. It moves with ferocity and encroaches on my grove with unyielding certainty. I would call it coeden o lafnau but I think I heard an elder druid once call such a creature a "scythe tree". Do you know of such a thing?
Ra'hl is enchanted with her every moment. His crimson eyes locked, entranced with the tilt of her head and every step she takes. He gladly follows and takes a seat where she asks.
After hearing her tale, Ra'hl will look to Duska in hopes she can enlighten him.
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Cuddles settles on the grass for the leaf-lady's tale. Then he settles some more onto his back. Then some more onto his belly with his head propped up on his crossed arms. If he wasn't over 7' and pushing 400 pounds of pure orcish muscle he would look just like a boy listing to a bard.
His brow knits at "sythe tree". He knows what scythes are. He's harvested more than a few fields (by himself). And he knows what trees are. He's harvested a few (again, by himself). The thought of the two together is a terrifying picture.
IF TREE IS SCYTHES, HOW DOES IT BLOW IN WIND? is the first question that oops into his head, quickly followed by, I HOPE BIRDIES KNOW NOT TO LAND ON POINTY BITS!
Settling to the ground with a grace that is not common for a man of Fergus's stature, he sets his spear aside as he listens to the dryad tail. Fergus frowns at the mention of the scythe tree, although he does not know the creature anything strong enough to scare a dryad must be considerably powerful. Consulting the spirit within him results in nothing. At a loss he looks to Duska to see if she can provide insight.
Duška sits cross-legged and listens to Tiressa's woe.
:
At the mention of the coeden o lafnau her eyes narrow and a grimace plays across her features;
"The coeden o lafnau or Scythe Tree... It is a truly evil thing yes. A great warped tree that hungers for flesh, especially that of elf or dryad..."
The lithe ranger looks to their host with concern before continuing her explaination;
"The fell creature's branches are indeed like the scythes of the harvest Cuddles. And can reach and sek..."cut" with terrible wounds from afar. This foe is truly dread... However it is slow moving and vulnerable to oheň... "fire"... This we must remember yes?"
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Cuddles still didn't understand how birdies sit in such a tree, but he trusts Duska.
Attacking a tree like that would be difficult. His friends may be hurt. There was only one way to do this then.
This tree needed the best hug ever.
Yes, that was it. A nice big hug could make it's heart warm and fuzzy. Then maybe it would stop eating people and start eating dirt like ask the other trees!
I WILL SHOW TREE POWER OF HUGS. he declares.