Brenan speaks up as the group steps off the riverboat. “Here ya be, green-ear, dwarf, Wyldote and company. Best of luck to ya, wherever you’re headed.” the giant Stonebit squints at the sun. "You might reach the eastern coast by sundown, the foothills west.” He raises an eyebrow to Rolg. “Or the ravine to the north, if that’s where you’re headed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got assets to sell off. That innkeeper’s whiskey isn’t going to drain itself.”
Brenan nods to brothers, who shove off the bank, and begin the upstream fight back to the shack.
“May the road rise up to meet you,” Brenan calls from the river, “And Wyldote! Don’t forget your promise!”
Simon nods wordlessly, and shakes the foreman’s large coat in affirmation.
Scanning the landscape, the field before you stretches east, west, and north. The flat land is coated with very young pine trees, much too young for forestry. The saplings continue up the distant hills, which give way to the stony face of the Frosttooth Mountains. Its snowcaps are obscured by thick mist. To the east, a gap can be spotted between the crags, and the sporadic dark tree can be seen on the hills leading to the ravine. The air in the field is quiet, save for the constant rush of the river behind you and the chattering birdsong of the swallows weaving between the stunted trees.
"There's not a lot of love for your family in these parts are there?" Aladdin commented as they disembarked from the rickety riverboat.
Rolg scans the way ahead, wondering what may be out there: what tests lay ahead.
A smile flashes across Simon’s face. “Whatever gave you that idea, Aladdin?”
"We should move to shelter. I do not like how exposed we are here."
“I agree. I don’t like the look of those clouds. Maybe we can find shelter in the ravine if we hurry.” Simon sets a determined pace northward. “Balion, I am glad Karajhin saw fit to include a woodsman as yourself in our number.”
The group travels through the field of sapling pines, which range from waist-height to just overhead. Small birds chirp and twitter, darting between the rows of narrow trunks and branches. The grass between the low trees is overgrown, and some wild berry vines are sporadically seen sprouting in the new spring. Distant bursts of rustling and blurred fur shows this place to be home of many rabbits, squirrels, and other mammal vermin. An occasional hawk soars higher in the sky, occasionally swooping down and crashing through the small trees to pin and eat spotted prey. The clouds almost cover the field by midday, and the light wind blows a bit colder. So far, this is the closest to the Frosttooth range you’ve traveled, and it fills the entire northern landscape.
The Ranger watches the majestic hawk in the sky as it masterfully darts in and grabs an animal from the brush below. Standing before the mountain landscape Balion nervously checks to see if all his gear is in place. Adjusting his fur hat for what will certainly be colder weather ahead he continues his stride with his hand resting on the mace tied to his belt.
Trudging along through the small copse Bolgrith thinks back to the mountain he was born under. A soft smile on his face he breathes deeply of the fresh air, suddenly he pauses as a half-familiar smell causes him to remember back. His mind wanders backwards in time, all those many years ago.
Simon, Rolg, and Aladdin see about fifty feet directly ahead of their path sprawls a thick tangle of vines. A few green berry clusters can be seen here and there. They look to be wild blackberries, though far from being ripe. A bird tweets and darts about the branches of the nearby pines. The low breeze seems to give tops of the trees a constant, swaying motion.
About fifty feet ahead in your path sprawls a thick tangle of vines. It seems to bear wild green blackberries, but you know better. This is the lethal assassin vine, a carnivorous plant that attacks anything it can reach. But, this just a plant, after all. Besides, how far could it possibly reach?
About fifty feet ahead in your path sprawls a thick tangle of vines. It seems to bear wild green blackberries, but you know better. This is the lethal assassin vine, a carnivorous plant that attacks anything it can reach. Click here for more info.
Bolgrith stops in his tracks and bids his companions to do likewise. Smelling the air again he finally recognizes the scent, compost, just like the gardens he used to tend at the Temple. Well, not exactly like he remembered, sniffing again it comes to him. Compost and rot, the smell of a dead animal was faint but definitely there. Squinting at the blackberry bush ahead he scans low to the ground, and suddenly he has it.
"Assassin Vine." The dwarf takes a cautious step forward to get a better look before pointing to show the whole company. "There, you see it? Bones and detritus, refuse and filth, but no den. The plants are untouched." Looking to the left and right of their course the Priest snorts in frustration. "If we want to skirt it we'd have to stay a good forty, maybe fifty feet out to be sure of our safety. That's what I would suggest, though the plant wouldn't be here if it didn't have prey. It would be good of us to kill it, if no other reason than to find the remains of any poor souls who've come this way before, and put them to rest." Bolgrith looks questioningly at the group.
"I see no need to fight a plant. Let some other traveler deal with it. I say we go around."
"We'll take your word on it. I know nothing about strange plants. I defer to your superior botany knowledge." Aladdin said as he squinted down the road to see this deadly plant.
Something didn't seem right to Bolgrith, looking over his shoulder down the path they had traveled the Priest tried to put a gauntleted finger on what was bothering him. Mumbling a soft prayer the dwarf traces his fingers over his hand. A dim blue light shines briefly from his hands.
“I’m with gobo,” Jamie hawks a glob of phlegm onto a nearby tree. “No sense in fightin’ sumpthin’ that ain’t chasing us. Just walk around it.”
Simon glances at Bolgrith after Jamie’s comment, and rests his gaze on Balion, waiting for the quiet woodsman’s opinion.
Balion looks at the Assassin vine more carefully and attempts to remember what he knows of the plant.
Deciding he can't quite remember everything about the plant he decides to take Bolgrith's word for it. "We should try burning the vine. Simon can take credit for it later and earn some points with the woodcutters later. Besides examining the prey of this plant will give us a good idea of what travels through this way."
Rolg issues forth a heavy, exaggerated sigh.
"Fine. We'll do battle with the scary, heathen house-plant!"
He draws his sword half-way, then stops.
"What do you even fight this with?"
Bolgrith looks thoughtful for a moment. "Well conventional weapons would of course hurt it, but it would be for the best if we kept out of it's reach. I've heard tales of what these "house-plants" can do to people caught in it's grasp." The dwarf begins counting off ideas on his fingers. "Well, if I'm remembering correctly it's immune to electrical effects and resistant to heat and chills. Our best bet would probably be to figure out some ranged options." Unslinging the composite bow from his back he holds it out. "I'm afraid I don't have much experience with bows, does anyone know how to use this?"
"I'm sure Jamie does, I'll use this."
Rolg unslings and strings his own bow.
"I guess it's decided then?"
He nocks and arrow and draws. He hesitates, allowing someone the chance to stop him.
"Here hold on a second." Handing the bow and quiver to the warrior woman, the Priest bows his head and walks among the group touching each of them on the shoulder. Mumbling a quick prayer his hands glow blue with a suffuse light as he makes his rounds.
"And remember, nobody get much closer than forty feet, lest you become entangled." The dwarf smiles softly. "After all the book does say 'Those who would their own way, would be wise to watch where their feet take them.'"
The Ranger looks to the sorcerer, "Aladdin can you use your grease wand on the plant?" Balion takes his bow from his back and strings it before notching an arrow. He ponders as to where he is going to shoot and looks harder still for a good target.
"I see no reason to move closer than this. If you don't have a ranged weapon, be still and contemplate your shortcomings."
The hobgoblin said the last in corrective jest.
"Someone give the word." Rolg waits, bow bent and ready to loose.
Simon unlimbers a longbow and takes aim. “Loose!”
Jamie smirks as she brings the dwarf’s bow to bear, and looses an arrow.
Simon's shot deeply punctures a thick vine, which begins to shudder and uncoil! Jamie's arrow sails high.
"Good shot greenhorn!"
Rolg fires his arrow.
"Better than me at any rate. I should really practice more with this..."
The hobgoblin's arrow finds its mark into the tough, thick vine. The smaller sprouts of the Assassin Vine begin to shake.
Bolgrith goes down to one knee as the company looses their arrows. Fiddling around with his boot the dwarf comes up with a sling in hand and several stones. It's obvious from the awkward way that he loads a stone into the worn leather pouch that he hasn't used this weapon in quite some time.
Aladdin unholsters his crossbow and joins in shooting the vine. "Master Dwarf, will fire not work on it? Resistant to heat isn't the same as resistant to BURNING is it?"
Squall stands quietly by watching the arrows and bolts sail across the field and sink into the vine.
"Oh it'll have an effect I'm sure. But if what I remember is true, it just won't be a spectacular one. But anything is worth a shot, at the very least I doubt it'll help the blasted thing." Bolgrith replies as he surveys the ground looking for more suitable stones. Glancing back towards the plant, he notices how torn up the vine has become.
"I doubt it'll be necessary though, see all that sap? The wee beastie plant has about had it I'd wager."
The remainder of the volley falls short or veers wide, save for Aladdin’s bolt, which pierces a vine. The moment it was struck with arrows and bolts, the murderous vine lumbers into action, irritably cracking a thin vine like a whip as it uncoils and tumbles toward you.
"By the gods! The thing MOVES?" Aladdin exclaimed.
"Well yes, I said don't get too close." The dwarf looks contemplative for a moment. "Though I suppose I could have been more specific. Hmmm, don't worry though, it's exceptionally slow. As it gets closer, just back up. We should be fine."
"This is officially the weirdest thing I've ever fought."
Rolg moves back 30 feet and fires again.
Another of Rolg’s arrows strikes the shambling tangle of vines, and it angrily snaps another whip-like vine in the air.
Balion looks at the tiny stick figurine ahead of him and attempts to remember if he knows anything about such creatures.
Deciding he doesn't remember enough to make a call he decides to consult the priest. "Master dwarf can you see that figurine covered in shrub grass? I do not recall what it is." Having said his piece he looks about the group with anxious expression. Deciding to stay alert he looks about the party to avoid being sneaked up on.
Balion does not notice anyone or anything sneaking.
Bolgrith squints where the Greyhand points as he settles another stone into the pouch of his sling.
Bolgrith drops his sling and turns to face the small creature, unlimbering his boarding pike he calls out to it. "Hold there Twigjack! Or you may come to regret it!"
Balion shoulders his bow and grabs his mace from his mace before stepping behind and slightly off to the left of the dwarf priest. In a quiet voice the ranger reassures the priest,"I have your back Bolgrith."
Jamie fires at the Assassin Vine...
...but shooting at a plant is just too weird, and her shot again goes too far.
"GOZREH'S GASH I HATE THIS!" The sellsword throws down the bow in anger and pulls the great falchion from her back. In her tantrum, she breathes loudly through her bared teeth.