Grigor seems to be completely overwhelmed and out of his mind. As does muppy for that matter. They both are digging at the hard ground with their bare hands. The problem is that the floor of a forest is usually full of fallen leaves and other organic matter, which is now all metal. They are cutting themselves, and badly!
With the music box buried the power of the obelisk seems to wane slightly.
The rest, you feel a probing at your minds. It seems to test your wills, drawing you to the obelisk with it's dark power.
from the spikes ground.
Grigor shakes his head, trying to push through the siren song flowing through his consciousness, but unable to muster up what he needs.
Emma, eldritch force quiescent for the moment, drags Grigor away from the rock. With force.
Archepex successfully fends off the mental assault.
Dhice feels the compulsion, and rails against it mentally. No, I am in control of my own actions! I don't need to touch that gorgeous, mysterious stone... I wonder what kind of fracture patterns my chisel would make on-- wait, no!
The stone crafter reigns himself in and halts about 10' from the obelisk, alternating between eyeing it lovingly and recoiling in distaste.
The Party barely manages to pull themselves away from the Obelisk's pull. Muppy continues to dig, and very efficiently.
Note that you have a good look st it without it trying to control your head, you notice that it is about as task as a man, but it continues down into the dirt and continues to get wider, as if the first floor had already buried part of it.
The entire thing is made of a granite lie rock with glowing green straiations. It still whispers to you, but it's power to control seems to have been broken.
"Any clue what this thing might be, mage-types?"
Lyntel walks towards the obelisk under her own volition. It can't be.
It doesn't make any sense for this to be here. It looks like ...
A Wildelode, a magical stone used near the borders of the Elven realms. They are usually used to encourage growth and hinder invasive species.
Emma says "Well, what is it?"
However, inside Emma's head, a shifting pool of goop prods and pokes at the nearby force, doing some... interesting things.
It's a Wildelode. But it's been twisted. Frankly, it shouldn't even be here. They are normally placed at the border of Elven lands to encourage productive species and hinder invasive species.
She gestures to the surrounding metal forest. It looks like this one is having the opposite effect. She turns to look at Grigor's blade. Hmm, Grigor, do you think you could destroy it? It might let us know whether the obelisk is corrupting the balewood, or the balewood is corrupting the obelisk.
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The darkness within Emma seems to be affecting the obelisk. As she approaches the glow lingers ever so slightly when it faces her direction. This is enough for Lyntel to suspect that her later theory is correct. Buried as it is, this must be one of the older Wildelodes and it has been overwhelmed by the Balewood's corruption.
Whether Grigors sword will harm it, however, is to be seen.
Shrugging, Grigor stores his shield, grips his broadsword tightly in two hands and brings the blade down in a mighty diagonal slash that could fell an ogre...
... Instantly, and relatively quietly, the Wildelode is split in twain. It is such a clean break, that the object is still actually useful for other spell work.
It is a spectacular cut, and effective. The magic that was playing on it's surface fades. You wait a moment and are disappointed when the forest doors not return to is normal self. The sun is shining just a little brighter, however, and Archepex declares, These only serve to extend the take of whatever is doing this, it seems. And your sword seems to be naturally attuned to disrupt this magic. That is fortunate indeed. Now, let's get a move on.
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Emma takes it upon herself to carry one of the stones. It shouldn't be too dangerous for her, right?
Grigor performs his duties with resounding "meh."
As the party climbs back on the stags, Lyntel vaults on the back of Milo's steed.
You will keep me awake. Tell me your story. I suspect it will be worthy of song.
Dhice takes on the role of quartermaster, trying to keep track of all the gear and making sure that everyone packs their stuff up carefully in this environment.
At a certain point in the journey, Dhice is double-checking Emma's bag when he notices something disconcerting.
Emma, what item are you carrying that's starting to react very badly to the proximity of the broken obelisk you're carrying? What is happening to it?
Everything in the bag is fine. It's the pulsating grey splotch on the back of her neck, throbbing in time with her pulse, that is sliiiiightly unnerving.
Wait... what were you looking at again?
Dhice, why do you have that strange look on your face?
"Dhice. Dhice! Snap out of it. What's wrong?"
Runic letters scrawl across Emma's grey eyes. Defy Danger to avoid reading them too deeply.
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Dhice finds himself staring directly into Emma's eyes, in a way that he'd normally be far, far too embarrassed to do normally. . Despite her warning, the channeler is drawn into a hypnotic stupor by the runes that he sees there.
Perhaps unfortunately for him, he knows how to decipher these runes. They are similar to those ancient runes that the Biermen carve as testaments to the honour of the deceased. Only these ones are twisted and dark reflections of the noble script he's used to. They read as a statement of claim: "I, <indecipherable> the Behemoth, lay claim to this soul. She has been summoned. She has been doomed."
Upon snapping out of the trance and breaking away his gaze, Dhice repeats the statement over and over aloud, unthinkingly. He finds himself confused as a result.
So, are we headed to the middle of the forest to fight the scourge, or what?
Archepex is there beside Dhice in a moment and slaps the young Bierman upside the head. You should know better than to read that. He scolds before turning to the rest.
This wood will test you in more than one way. It week find your weaknesses and use them. Now, let's move.
The journey is tough on mind and gear and body. Just the slightest moment of distraction causes a small cut or tear from the metallic foliage. The constant need for acute care and attention wears on ones mood and mind after a while. It also puts a serious strain on the supplies and dhice with his eldritch confusion isn't helping things.
Adding to the strain is Grigor's rather meandering path with muppy as his only check. It's no easy task to orienteer when you have only one point of reference to navigate from.
Archepex does his scouting job admirably, as usual, and nothing gets the drop on you as you make your way deep into the heart of the Wood. Then again, his job was probably the easiest of the three, so saying he did the best isn't saying much. Also, he's an elf. Anyway.
Here the canopy becomes thicker, closer. The trees are larger and the shrubs seem to reach for you as you pass. At the end of a frustrating, uphill day you stop on a ridge that has just enough space for you to camp and not kill yourself on the shrubberies. Your firewood has long since run out or turned into metal ingots. You settle into another night of hard tack when you suddenly notice that the tinkling sound that the leaves make whenever they strike one another is slowly becoming organized. Tuned. Almost like a chorus of mini wind chimes. The sound is beautiful... You wonder where it's coming from... Certainly couldn't hurt to poke about...
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Grigor pulls his weapons and starts looking around the team's encampment.
...
Are there any barns, with particularly broad sides, that I missed?
This first has not been kind to you, has it my fighter friend? You find it particularly hard to keep an eye on which direction your barn is, that is, camp. Without aid you will be lost the bewildering metal forest. And that is a truly scary concept indeed when even the creeks of water have turned into flowing streams of microscopic metal slivers.
Dhice starts calling out to Grigor when he gets out of sight. "Grigor, this place is too dangerous to wander alone! Come back!"