Sylva says, “Honestly those lyrics are a song I gave up on from the time we researched Kaneepo. I was gonna throw it away.”
But Sir Bat seemed upset to lose his book.
“Seriously. If you try to read a book for sprites, you’re going to strain your eyes and look like this.”
She crosses her eyes.
“Is it really worth taking his book?—especially since you probably benefit way more from all the questions we answered.”
The creatures clutch the comic book possessively. "No! It's ours now! All your words are belong to us!"
“So we trade. My secret to living over a thousand years for the comic.”
Sir Batman laughs!
Let them keep it. Probably not right for me to own a copy anyway.
The bronze-colored bat winks.
Besides, it's not even signed.
“Still…. it would be a really good trade.”
She looks at the snakes. “Why don’t you skim it a bit first? Then if you’re curious about my secret, you hand over the comic. The moment you do, I’ll give it to you in song.”
She prepares her magic since this is no banjo tune.
Sylva’s Musical Accompaniment spell plays a tune that tea cups and princesses would dance to.
Sylva herself changes her outfit to a yellow ball gown and dances about as she sings
Beeeee aaaaa sprite
Be a sprite
With your skin
Shining so bright
Face unaging
Compensating
For an un—
—impressive height
Yes I’m told
Nox looks old
But that’s
’Cause of his beard
I’ve got gills and
Sir’s got batwings
So we’re all
A little weird
But our lives
Are a fire
Burning long
As we desire
Unless we wanna
Live a thousand mooooorrrrre
Then we must rebirth
As a creaturrrrre
That is born with
Such a featurrrrre
So be a sprite
Be a sprite
Be a spriiiiiiiiiiite!
The creatures skim through Batman's comic. As they do so, words appear scrawled along their bodies, words that resemble the captions in the comic book ("Pow! Biff! Zowie!") They scribe a few of these words onto nearby parchments before giving the book back to Batman.
Fortunately, Sylva's performance has them clapping along and tapping their many feet. Afterwards, they grin. "Okay, good enough! Good luck with the Gardeners!" They turn to their writings and pay you no further mind.
Finally, you are able to pass through the double door. Ornate lanterns hang from the stalactites along the ceiling of this vast, dimly lit cavern. An orchard of short, leafless trees spreads out across the floor, their twisted branches weighed down with shadowed shapes of odd fruit.
Three emaciated and hairless humanoids with their arms folded into the sleeves of silver robes stand before the grove. The figure in front raises a long-fingered hand, and telepathic words ripple through your head, seeming to echo with many voices. “Welcome, scholars.”
They bow their heads, and you can feel tendrils of thought slithering through your minds. The lead figure intones more words to you. "We see the knowledge you desire. The Grove contains these memories—but what memories will you offer in turn?”
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Nox scowls at the scribes but gives Hildy a tug urging her quickly onward. "The nerve.. also Sylva I'm not that old... I don't even have a beard."
Inside the ornate room Nox and Hildy both recoil a bit at the figures appearance, though he feels immediately bad for doing so as most beings who are at least willing to speak first haven't been so bad.
"Erm... ah well, First how do we know you're the Gardeners and you'll give us the information. Those nasty 'scribes' outside were willing to lie and take our things with nothing in return."
"Those minor beings are not associated with us. We are the true caretakers of the Memory Grove. Other cultures have many names for our people—the Oatia call us 'the Gardeners,' which suits us well enough. We have no use for your possessions. Only memories that you are willing to offer. We will harvest these memories and remove them from your minds. Then, we will allow you to speak with the one that you seek. Iskariel."
Sir Batman seems a bit embarrassed when the writings from his mint condition comic book begin appearing for all to see.
Striding quickly through the ornate double door, the sprite looks up at the orchard of short, leafless trees spreads out across the floor, their twisted branches weighed down with shadowed shapes of odd fruit.
My neck hurts.
Walking closer to the guardians, Sir Batman bows cordially.
Sir Batman, Sylva, Ravenna and Nox here to speak....
He stops when they announced their objective.
Really speeds things up that. Memories? I happen to just have formed one that you can have!
Takes it! It's my precious!
The creature places its spindly fingers on the sides of Batman's head. He feels a buzzing in his mind, then suddenly, the memories of the last few minutes are gone! He remembers encountering the two scalescribes outside this door, but has no recollection as to how that encounter was resolved.
"Thank you. Now, for the rest of you...?" The being turns its faceless gaze towards the remainder of the party.
Sir Batman turns around to face the others once his donation is resolved.
Those guys outside were great! I feel totally positive that our encounter with them went well!
Sylva replies to Nox, “‘Sideburn’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘weird.’”
Sylva would love to forget the kentauride innards raining on her. All her kills. A whole day, blood soaked.
But then the healing from the trauma… the heart-to-heart with Ravenna… and without that, I would relive it all with the next horrific kill.
Sylva really doesn’t want to give up a memory.
But there ain’t a chance I can trick them. So I better give them a memory that isn’t important.
And suddenly it hits her. It was Amateur Hour at Dick’s Comedy Tavern. That hour felt like a week.
“An hour of dick jokes! Take ’em! Free my mind! Tell ’em to each other if you actually find them funny!”
"Any memory?" Ravenna asks, plainly skeptical. "You'd be just as satisfied with my memory of today's breakfast as you would with that of my first kiss?"
”The more precious the memory, the more it will count towards gaining access to the knowledge you seek,” the Gardener replies matter-of-factly.
Sylva makes kind of an awkward face. “First kiss. Yes. That would be a hefty price of admission. I would probably be dissatisfied and demand my kiss back.”
Sylva thinks back a couple years to the one time she was kissed as a teenager.
Stupid frog.
“Hoo, yes. That’s a keeper. But I can double the number of dick jokes I heard at comedy taverns.”
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"The more it will count towards our access? That seems to suggest an unspoken price to be paid of which we've not been made aware. Also makes determining the exact value of a memory rather difficult doesn't it? Seems a deal we'd make with a greater fey more rather than a being from a whole different star." Nox muses trying to think of a suitably precious memory that he also wouldn't mind losing. Perhaps...
"Then might I offer this one of a recent dream. I recently dreamt of searching for my lost love in a dense forest not much unlike that which we arrived in when we came to this star. I came upon a clearing and spotted a strange figure in the distance one who wore a prim coat and a mask of white fur and horns, while I am small and most things are large compared to me this one was quite titanic, the kind that sends a shiver down the spine of any creature it would come across.
We stood there so far apart yet so near just the two of us in that clearing. But despite any ill will that may have been harbored I knew that if I were to find what I seek I need to approach and speak with this being although my voice didn't wish to work in my otherwise fairly lucid dream state. The more I tried to run after it the further 'he' seemed to be. His presence seemed to seep through the fabric of the dreaming world and left me with a stark reminder of just how in danger I might be when I awoke. But I know we need to seek this creature to find the answers we seek. For that I have to share this memory with you, and my companions. For it's importance is the very matter of our journey here I believe."
Wow… and all I offered were dick jokes.
Sylva doesn’t change her offer. Because she doesn’t want to steal Nox’s thunder, obviously.
"Fine," Ravenna says, crossing her arms. "My offer to you is the last time I saw my father. Every wretched moment of it. I have no need of it, but I'm sure it will capture your interest."
The Gardeners indicate their approval. One by one, the lead being lays spindly fingers on your temples, drawing the offered memories out of your minds. To you, it is as if they never existed. There’s nothing to miss as you no longer remember having them in the first place.
The trio of Gardeners open their mouthparts and let out sighs, as if they had just completed savoring a particularly tasty meal. The Gardeners then gesture for you to follow them as they lead the way into the grove. The darkened shapes that appeared to be fruit from a distance now reveal themselves to be severed heads—the elegant heads of elves, multicolored humanoid heads with prominent antennae, insectile heads like giant ants, strange heads that appear to be almost entirely brain, and more. Each head rests in a cradle of branches like a jewel in a setting, looking as fresh and peaceful as if its owner were sleeping. Tiny shoots pulsing with faint silver light extend from the tree and into the open necks of the cradled heads.
One branch bears the head of a raven-haired elf. As the Gardeners touch the branch, the elf’s eyes snap open, glowing with silvery light as she speaks.
“What knowledge do you seek?”
Sylva shudders at Ravenna’s offer. Why would she…? Oh. I won’t ever know now. She somehow wishes she could offer Ravenna some comfort, but maybe that’s the point of forgetting. And Nox, will you be better off without… should I have…?
Oh gosh. Those fingers are colossal…!
She grimaces a bit as the memory is about to be taken, including her own dick jokes from that night at the comedy tavern.
The audience shouts
“Wow. I guess they named this place ‘Dicks’ after the audience. Uhh.. thank you and good night. I’ll be here all EEEEK!!”
Sylva gets the HELL off the stool as beer mugs and pretzel bowls are hurled in her general direction!
When she sees the raven haired elf, Sylva stammers, “We talked to your son.” She hesitates, or maybe stalls, as she collects her thoughts.
Sir Batman looks at the freaky talking elf head, shakes his head and pushes Nox forward!
Here's your huckleberry!
”If Jenthiel sent you down here, then the need must be great,” Iskariel says. ”What is it that troubles my child so?”
“Well, first of all, yes, your son sent us. He’s fine.”
Sylva considers that Sir Bat is not-so-subtly encouraging Nox to do the talking. Nox, who paid a real memory price. I still remember that stupid frog and… *that*… but I doubt I gave up anything good. Two hundred forty years of memories, and he sacrificed…
“I think Nox the Huckleberry can explain it better than I can.”
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Nox and Hildy jump a bit as Batman nonchalantly pushes them both forward. The sprite clearly not ready to suddenly give a speech especially after he felt like he just forgot something important quickly brushes his clothes and makes himself as presentable as possible for the elf.
"Ah yes.. um"
He brushes some of the last remaining moisture from the swim earlier from his sleeve.
"We have come from the star of Golarion. We arrived through one of the gates that weeks or perhaps months ago granted us all visions and short term lives away from reality."
He motions to the group, present.
"The key which transported us here, retrieved from Kaneepo the slim a fey being from our First world, stolen by one of his disciples from the druids of the Seven arches area. Brought us through the gate in his personal plane the Thinlands to this Star. That key seems to have a psychic echo upon it linked to Osoyo. Your son fears that we may need to deal with that being before we are able to both dispel the elf-killing curse placed upon the key, and return to our own star safely. Since you were the last he knew that knew of Osoyo the hope was that we could gain your insights into the Blackfeost Whale. To aid our journey for the betterment of all peoples of course."
Iskariel asks to see the Shadwither Key. "Yes... I can sense the psychic imprint Jenthiel noted—that of Osoyo, the Blackfrost Whale. However, it seems somehow muffled—as if only clinging to the edge of the key." Her eyes widen slightly. "Interesting. Osoyo’s mark doesn’t seem to be causing the obnubilate curse, but is trying to negate it.
"I believe you can use this to develop a cure for the curse. Tell Jenthiel to consult the third restorative formula from my seventh lab journal, but scrap the peony seeds and azata tears and sub in water from She Who Walks Through Seasons. Trust me, Jenthiel will know what to do."
The elf closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again. She has a distant look in her eyes, as if looking back across eons to memories of long, long ago.
"Osoyo the Blackforst Whale was first encountered millenia ago near our ancient homeland of Sovyrian. In a vast canyon filled with a magical sea of mist, the massive, ice‑blue whale floated through the air as easily as a fish through water. Those who encountered the psychic whale and inhaled its chilling, shadowy vapors developed paranormal powers. Unfortunately, they also lost control of their minds, becoming potent yet senseless thralls.
"Once discovered, the Blackfrost Whale could not simply be ignored. Sovyrian’s High Families knew this entity was far too dangerous to remain anywhere near the elven capital. At great cost, brave elves subdued, shackled, and shuttled Osoyo to a remote part of your planet now known as the Crown of the World. There, they sealed the beast beneath the thickest part of Golarion’s icecap, where Osoyo has lay dormant for thousands of years."
Iskariel blinks and focuses on you again. "I cannot tell you about the recent events you experienced tied to the aiudara, but the fact that you have developed strange supernatural powers after your so-called Missing Moment concerns me deeply. Combined with the psychic imprint Jenthiel noticed with the Shadewither Key and its curse, the phenomenon suggests you have somehow been exposed to the Blackfrost Whale’s influence. How exactly Osoyo could be involved is still beyond me, but it seems that all of these mysteries must be tied together somehow..."
At the mentioning of Unfortunately, they also lost control of their minds, becoming potent yet senseless thralls. , Sir Batman is seen side Stepping a few paces away from the others.
He grins.
Sylva recalls the kentauride saying she enjoyed killing. Upon killing her quite violently, Sylva recalls her own fear—that I would end up like her!
So why did I choose to keep these memories really? She starts to doubt herself, her sanity, her ‘healing’…
Ravenna feels a moment of trepidation, but presses onward anyway.
"Where's my daughter?" he slurred at her, his body wavering slightly.
"Papa, pl—" she started, interrupted by his sudden bellow of rage. He reached for the gun on his belt. She lunged for it, grabbing his wrist. Something hit the back of her head, and the world went dark, but she held on.
The struggle only lasted a few seconds, a confusing mix of pain, terror, rage, and the screams of a young girl, all silenced by a single gunshot.
Afterwards, she feels almost...lighter. While she remembers nothing of what was taken, Ravenna remembers making the offer. She wonders what it was, that she would feel no regret for its absence.
"'Senseless,' you say? I hope we don't fit that description."
Iskariel answers any more questions you might have. Once the interview concludes, the elf closes her eyes once more, and the Gardeners escort you back out of the grove. You make your way back to Loskialua without incident.
Jenthiel lights up at the words from their mother and retrieves the indicated journal. Several other elven scholars crowd around, nodding and musing. Eventually, Jenthiel turns back to you. "We have most of hte ingredients we need to brew the proposed cure for the obnubilate curse, but there is one that is more difficult: the headwaters of She Who Walks Through Seasons. She Who Walks Through Seasons is a sacred being—not quite god, not quite beast. Many Ikal natives have worshipped her as an avatar of the jungle itself. The size of a hill, she lumbers through the forest, as the forest. Atop her head bubbles a sacred spring. To eradicate the curse and render the key safe to use, you must summon She Who Walks and bring back some of her headwaters. We’ll prepare the rest of the components and be ready for your return."
Jenthiel explains that She Who Walks Through Seasons (sometimes abbreviated as She Who Walks) isn’t so much found as summoned. To call forth the ancient being and collect the water from her crown, you must complete the following tasks:
1. Secure the Spire: She Who Walks can be beckoned out of hiding from an ancient tower called the Offering Spire. Since the site’s caretakers abandoned it long ago, the Spire is likely now home to territorial monsters.
2. Make the Offering: One hundred pounds of special fruit and fungus will make a sufficient offering to She Who Walks. You must also blow a huge relic called the Sporehorn to complete the summoning.
3. Gather the Water: When She Who Walks draws close, you can board her, gather the water from her crown, and rappel back down to safety. Jenthiel provides you with a skull‑sized stoppered gourd to fill with water.
The Oatia send several strong young elves to guide you to the Offering Spire and haul your ropes and offerings, but that’s as far as they’re willing to go. A sage explains that recent astrological consultations confirm that this job, like seeking the Memory Cache, belongs to you alone...
Sylva’s eyes widen. “Oh. Wow.” She turns to Ravenna. “A hundred pounds isn’t heavy to big people, is it?”
“I know how to play a horn.”
Sylva winces at the vibration, then lowers the wind instrument onto her lap, pouting, “Oh Mommy. Why can’t I play the stroh violin in the Fey Day parade? That should count as a horn.”
Sir Batman walks (some may says runs) out of the spooky Grove of talking heads, slight sheen of perspiration seen on his forehead. After shaking off the hibee-jeebees, the bronze-colored sprite takes the Vanguard on the trip back. Every so often, he is seem making a disgusted face.
At the debriefing from Jenthiel, the Champion of Mazludeh patiently waits her dissertation with hardly a constant tap, tap, tapping of his booted foot.
He does look at Nox, pantomining taking notes with a smile.
Ravenna snorts in amusement. "It's more than I want to carry. Glad they're sending help."
You rest overnight to recover your strength, and the next day, you set out from Loskialua. It takes half a day to march through the jungle, a trio of young elves trailing in your wake hauling your ropes and offerings. Eventually, you reach the Offering Spire.
A slender spire of vine-choked gray stone juts out of the jungle and points to the sky above. Sixty feet high, the tower is terraced with narrow ledges and windows at every story, plus a yawning open archway at its base. Mounted atop the spire’s uppermost ledge is a giant horn.
Your Oatia guides halt at the edge of the clearing around the sacred spire. It’s been decades since any Oatia has visited the spire, and while the jungle has seemed strangely reluctant to reclaim it, there’s no telling what might be living inside. The guides tell you that they’ll wait here with the fruit. Once you have reached the top of the tower and lowered down ropes, the Oatia will approach with the offering.
Sylva keeps the worry to herself that the monsters might be elf-sized fruit flies. “Please keep each other safe while we… do the thing.”
I hope there aren’t more human-legged spiders. Because yuck, she thinks to herself before another thought hits her: The monster will be even weirder.
She wants to be sneaky. A yellow ball gown will not help. Thus she works the robe’s magic and today’s outfit is a take-two on the little black dress with black tights, and once again, she wills on a rainbow accessory to honor her goddess. But instead of leg warmers, her dress has three buttons—red, orange, and yellow—from neckline to waist, angling toward the right hip. There’s a green button atop the right-leg side slit, blue on the hem, and indigo and violet buttons on the boot.
Sir Batman nods in appreciation to the elves.
Have lunch ready! Climbing makes me hungry!
The 6" bronze-colored sprite smiles, looking up at the height of the spire.
The Champion of Mazludeh takes the lead.....
A large, squared-off doorway offers entrance into the tower’s cavernous ground-floor chamber. In the center of the room, branches and dried leaves form a pungent animal nest. Above, the space extends all the way to the hollow tower’s roof. Stone catwalks line the interior walls.
As you approach the doorway, though, a creature scuttles forward to challenge you! The strange looks like a cross between a dinosaur and an insect. It stands 5 feet tall at the shoulder and is 10 feet long. Its torso extends back into a bulbous abdomen like an ant's.
Before you can react, the creature flexes its muscular back legs against its abdomen, causing it to function like a resonance chamber. Pressure builds up within and sound waves are amplified and then focused as creature opens its mouth and releases the blast as a shockwave!
“Yowzers! That smarted! C’mon, Bat Boy Wonder!”
She ▶️dashes and ⏩strikes as soon as her flank partner arrives!
Ravenna staggers backwards from the creature's sonic attack, but manages to get a shot off as she increases the distance.
Sir Batman pauses in his casual perusals to blink back watering blue eyes at the flatulate fellow!
Divine Grace
Placing his hands on his trusty shield, the Champion of Mazludeh Raises the shield and Strides into a Flank with Sylva!
Anyone got any nose pugs?
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Nox sighs at Batman and pantomimes taking notes on all the extra leaves he just happens to carry around with him. Shaking his hands franticly and giving him a face that somehow permeates his beetle helm. "I might be a scholar but I don't know when I became the honorary note taker for the group."
**************
He and Hildy made their contributions to the group by saddling up with some of the gear, not much of course. But it went a was to at least offer to help he thought.
**************
Looking up the sheer face of the tower the sprite gulped audiably. "Were it that i still had wings enough to fly..."
Nox atop Hildy walks into the room as per usual and upon hearing the deafening croak of the cricket-like insect's belch cannon.
Falls off the mount with blood leaking from his ears. Hildy however covers her ears and cowers with noone to give her commands and tries to simply cover Nox from being seen.
Sylva delivers a solid punch to the creature, and Ravenna grazes it with a bullet. As she reloads, Ravenna recognizes the beast as a kareq. Kareqs tend to be solitary predators, bold and unafraid, even willing to take on predators significantly larger than themselves. In combat, they keep their distance at first, softening up opponents with their boomstrikes before moving in for the kill with their claws. While they don't usually hunt in populated areas, kareqs are extremely territorial, and their desire to lay claim to tall landscape features can bring them into conflict with humanoids.
The kareq claws at Sylva, tearing her flesh. Batman intervenes to allow her to step away, forcing the beast to move to follow her. It claws again, but this time Sylva dodges!
Sylva sees Nox drop—and I’m next!—she does not back down!
“Die die die die die die die DIE!!!!”
Sir Batman does indeed React quickly, protecting his Rogue a bit.
The Champion of Mazludeh frowns at the insect leaving his space.
Raising his Shield, and Striding back into a Flank, he boss bashes it!
Turning his smiling bronze-colored face to look at the fallen Nox, Sir Batman breaths a sigh of relief as he views the sorcerer 's chest still moving.
"Batman, can you help him?" Ravenna shouts, punctuating it with a blast from her rifle. She quickly loads and fires a second shot, but the bullet goes whizzing off into the sky.
Sylva continues to do massive damage to the kareq with her tiny feet! Batman and Ravenna both score hits, but the beast still stands! It tears into Sylva, but she fortunately dodges its follow up attacks!
Sylva hears the echo of gunfire and ▶️ rises up.
“Oh s%~$?!”
She is rather freaked to find out Ravenna’s shot didn’t put the monster thing down, so she punches its nose and kicks its jaw!
Sir Batman howls as he watches poor Sylva get shredded apart like Tom Hanks hungry for that coconut!
The Champion of Mazludeh Raises his Shield, reaches over to her, Lay's on Hands and shield bosses the slime-covered anteater!