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The Crocodile is indeed unconscious, and while Mikhaere tends to it, the others bind and stabilize the Elf - a rough-looking character, despite her Elven beauty. When she wakes, there is a flash of fear in her eyes that changes to defiance. "I'd rather die than become one of you!" she says. "Kill me now or bite me and I'll do the deed myself later."
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"Well this is certainly a curious turn of events." Jorag said with surprise and a smile on his face. "You chose to attack us in spite of our assurances that we wished only to talk, yet it would seem you have us confused with someone else." He crouched by her side. "You may think us to be Moon Touched, but we are not. True, a few of our group show signs of the curse..." he motioned towards them "...But that is the cause of a far greater threat than the disease of Lycantrophy. Do you know of the Druids? They are the cause of the transformation, and we seek to stop them."
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Daeris gives the bound elf a disapproving glare, shaking her head as she exclaims once more in Elvish.
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"Leave? You would rather go alone than join us in common cause?" Jorag arched a brow, placing his hands on his hips, looking like a disapproving parent. It might even have been effective had the elven woman not been many decades his senior. "I used to think like you, that I could succeed by my own strength alone..." he paused, one hand reaching to his chest, seemingly clutching at some phantom pain at the memory. "...but the reality of the matter is, for every successful loner, there lie a hundred like him or her dead."
Untying her bonds, he motioned for her to leave "But I am not in the habit of forcing a contestant into the ring. Go if you must, and may Kurgess bring you better fortunes down the road."
Suddenly remembering his seniority didn't afford him the right to decide for the group, he looked around at the others sheepishly. "Eeeh, that is, assuming you all agree..."
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Leaving the Elf and her companion to their own devices, after having confiscated her weapons, the Pathfinders resume their trek to the Briar henge.
Approaching from the South, Briar Henge is a bristling fortress. The compound is roughly circular and approximately 100 feet across. The walls are made of tangled thorn bushes twelve feet high, although the compound does not appear to have a roof. The only break in the prickly wall is a gap five feet wide and eight feet high. Hanging ivy covers this doorway and blocks the view of the interior of the compound.
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Daeris moves cautiously closer and looks at the briar walls of the Henge. She figures it can be climbed, but not without suffering significant harm from the thorns. She does not find any traps, though in searching along the outside of the wall she does locate a point where the briars are particularly thin.
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Unable to discern the function of the two last scrolls, Jorag stuffed them into his backpack. The two healing scrolls he tugged into his belt for easy access should he need them.
Looking at Daeris go through the hole, he hesitated for a moment, then shrugged with a smile and tried to match her elegant tumble.
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The Pathfinders push their way through the gap, suffering cuts and scrapes along the way, but ending up more or less safely on the other side.
Six hammocks hang suspended from the thorns here, crisscrossing along the thorny walls. Two oaks provide shade and shelter from wind and rain. A few clothes hang from the thorny walls. The hammocks and clothes seem simply made. Near one of the tree trunks is a large, sturdy chest. Near the other is a smaller chest, whose open lid reveals several scrolls and tomes. Gaps in the walls allow exit to the northwest, north, and northeast.
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As the others post themselves at the entrances, Daeris examines the chests. No traps are found, but the larger chest of locked, but she does locate a key in the bottom of the smaller chest which fits the lock. Inside the larger chest she finds, among other things, a Wand and a Scroll.
The passages are very winding, and neither Mikhaere or Uriel can see very far. Then, after a few moments, emerging from the brambles themselves is a tiny, vaguely humanoid creature that seems to be made completely of bundles of sticks wound with thorny vines.
Mikhaere
Uriel
Li Shuo
Jorag
Daeris
Twig
Round 1
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Mikhaere turns about a little too late to stop the walking stick creature, but he immediately knows what it is. He'd seen some of the little blighters back in the swamps and forests of his homeland, although they were little more than annoyances more than anything. "Twigjack," he explains with a sour expression, "annoying little things that travel along the undergrowth and shoot out thorns everywhere. I suggest fire - and lots of it."
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Going stiff as a board with pain, Jorag gasped feebly, falling to one knee, blood oozing from several puncture wounds.
"Cursed beast!" he muttered through gritted teeth, forcing himself to stand.
"Li, be a dear and kill it, Kurgess wishes it so...as do I." he said, waving his one hand towards the monk as he shuffled away from the melee, the other hand clutching at his wounds.
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Badly injured himself, Li simply inclines his head a fraction to acknowledge Jorag's words.
He fires backs up a few feet and fires twice.
<- 12 (Boo!)
<- 22
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Li and Daeris unleash a flurry of return fire. Two of their arrows strike home in the swirling melee of attacks from Mikhaere and Uriel. The Twigjack is rocked back by Daeris' shot, but Li's strikes the fey creature in its midsection, severing the vines that hold it together. The tiny figure drops to its knees as small twigs spill from its abdomen, its thorny hands trying to hold them in, before it collapses in an unrecognizable heap of kindling on the ground.
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Sitting down with a thud and a gasp, Jorag only barely managed to force himself to stay in a seated position. He felt so tired, but he had to keep going. Waving the others close, he murmured almost inaudible words under his breath, the familiar glow of Kurgess' magic surrounding him.
Getting up, pain still visible on his face in spite of his attempts to hide it, he pulled out the scrolls "Seems these will have to be spent sooner than I had thought. Still, better safe than sorry."
Unrolling the scrolls, he recited the incantations held within, one after the other.
His brow furrowing with worry, he looked at his companions with uncertainty "It seems Kurgess intends to truly tests us this day. It will have to do..."