Gorruum enthusiastically rides Ubagub back into the village, remembering to shout "PAR LAY" at the top of his lungs this time. He seems impervious or oblivious to the glares of the lumberjacks and other villagers. Amidst his enthusiasm, he forgets the advice to put away his halberd instead of waving it around. When Wilhelm reminds him, his skin flushes and he quickly straps it back onto his back.
The next day Gorruum takes the lead on Ubagub as the terrain shifts closer and closer to his homeland. In the wetlands, he seems to move with ease and quiet gestures show you where to step and what to avoid. Seeing the corpse of the horse, he looks closely to make sure it is not one of the horse hooms that Wilhelm told him about. He points to it and make a questioning gesture.
The dead body has no insects on it at all, and appears not to have been eaten by any wild animals, despite the fact it looks like it's been laying there for awhile. Gorruum also notices what looks like a growth on it's forehead, sticking out about an inch and about as big around as a small hoom's fist.
Anastacia shakes her head at Gorruum's antics. She can't be mad at him, but wishes he would curb his enthusiasm sometimes. It may not be such a bad thing, anyway.
Anastacia takes some time to look into the well-being of the villagers. Asking about their health and trying to note if anyone looks unwell. As she moves among them, she reminds them that Pharasma is the goddess of birth. No one likes to think about death too much.
She does make a comment about Gorruum, and spreads it around.
"We have fought many terrible foes out in the forest. The boggard, Gorruum has proved to be a mighty warrior. He stands with Wilhelm Orlovsky, as do I. In this dangerous land, you can find no better protectors. Of that you may be certain."
**********
At the noxious pond she reigns Avalanche in. 'What's this, some sort of poison pool?"
Anastacia grips her holy symbol, holding it high. "Pharasma grant me your vision. Let me read the unseen auras of magic."
Natalie likes Gorruum's enthusiasme, and she can't help to crack a smile as he rides into the village shouting and waving his weapon. Natalie is delighted to get a good night sleep in a town again, and she feels more rested then any night in the "cursed" forest. "Ah I feel ready for whatever challenges we can run into!"
* * * * * *
Nearing the pond"What a smell are we riding near the dread village again?"
At the pond"This is horrible, what kind of pond is that?"
"That large scary monster? Quite nice when you actually get to know him! I promise ..."
________________________________________________
Fhârn sniffs in the air and grimaces.
"I think Anastacia got it, 'some sort of poison pool'!" He chuckles, then adds in a firmer tone. "... Could be swamp gas, so be careful with fire ..."
Hunching over the body Gorruum muses out loud, "Horse. Not horse. Horn. Dead long. No bugs. No animals eat." Not sure what the creature is, he looks at and smells the water to see if it is safe.
Gorruum has no idea what caused the death, there's no wounds.
The body of the horse(?) has a lingering faint necromantic aura about it.
Natalie is unsure what the pond is, and hasn't heard of anything...
It's likely the pond has gone sour. Basically, a buildup of swamp gas poisoning the water, killing off the fish, too much sulfur and swamp gas in the water. Then everything in it rots, even the vegetation.
Fhârn sniffs in the air one more time and then cover his mouth with a handkerchief.
"Most definitely swamp gas poisoning. If too much dead matter is stacked ontop of eachother, it can't break down properly - and the dead matter poisons the rest of its surroundings - which simply accelerates the process until the entire pond is dead. The only things alive in that water is corruption itself, feeding of the death and producing sulphur*. I would not advise anyone to take a bath in that ..."
He attempts to stroke his chin while still covering his mouth, but after a moment gives up.
"Now, this can happen naturally at times. But ... There can be more sinister sources as well."
*
"I can assure you, I am not going to bath in that, gonna ruin my skin. I kinda hope it's a natural cause, but traveling with you guys nothing is as straight forward as it looks!"
Wilhelm winces as Gorruum charges into the village again, waving his halberd around and roaring about 'Parley'. Sighing, he gently reminds the frog creature, "You will only frighten them with the halberd. If you wish to wave something around, gather some flowers and wave those around instead."
Wilhelm adds to his companion's attempt to mitigate the boisterous entrances, "He has proven a stout protector, if one who lacks certain social graces. Given time, I think he will stop his threatening displays. Before then, I can't fault someone who fights against danger in the forest so readily." Through the evening that they stay, Wilhelm makes a point of explaining what has occurred since their last visit. He walks through, in detail, the conflict between lumberjack and nixie, leaving nothing out, "You can imagine the nixie's -Melianse's- unease to find what she considers her home invaded and her property stolen. To add insult to injury, the interlopers insulted her in a vile manner, which I will spare your ears. I dare say any of you might react with some anger as well. It shows that we must take the time to understand our fae neighbors if we intend to live harmoniously."
Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the glade's pervasive stench, Wilhelm stays astride Triumph as they approach the midden. He looks at Gorruum dubiously, "It's a horse that's not a horse? With a horn? And it hasn't decayed? Interesting." Wilhelm takes a moment to chant a brief prayer to Iomedae and study the glade, eyes glowing white. "Fhârn, do you feel there is likely to be a supernatural danger from either the horse or the glade?"
The corpse has not been touched by insects or animals. It appears it may have once been a unicorn, but it's horn has been removed about an inch above it's forehead. There's no marks on the body indicating how it died, no cuts, no damage at all other than the missing horn, which looks like it was sawed off. Neatly sawed off however, as if someone took very good car to saw it off. There's a small amount of shavings next to the head, so the horn was obviously sawed off where the body lies.
"There is a remnant of necromancy about the 'horse'. It could be the remnant of a Gentle Repose.' Anastacia shrugs. "Or not."
Anastacia prepares to cast another spell. "If it is undead, I will soon know."
The cleric calls on Pharasma, in her usual way, casting Deathwatch to examine the unicorn, as well as have a look for any other life signs.
"Undead? You mean it is dead. Yes. It is dead. Fhârn say swamp gas. Swamp gas not always bad. Sometimes smell good. Swamp gas no take horn."
"For the supernatural dangers of Death, I must refer to Her priestess!" Fhârn replies to Will, deferring to Anastacias expertise on the topic of (un)dead things. "But Gorruum is right, someone poached that horn. Now, Unicorns are quite dangerous and their horns are valuable, so for the one with low morals poisoning a small pond to steal one might even be plausible. Could also just be a scavenger taking the opportunity ..."
The unicorn is (very) dead. Not undead.
Fharn vaguely remembers something about insects and vermin being repelled by especially powerful death effects... at least while the aura of the death effect still linger.
"I almost hope it's a scavenge of opportunity. It sickens me to think that someone intentionly poisoned the well on the odd chance the unicorn would come here to drink from it."
Natalie clearly doesn't like to be around this pond, but she doesn't show any signs of leaving the immediate area, and instead stays while the more knowledgeble people studies the surroundings.
"...Hmm ..." Fhârn mused and activated an Detect Magic spell of his own. "Let's take a look at that Necromancy aura, shall we? Maybe things will clear ..."
Anastacia sighs. "The unicorn is not going to rise as a walking corpse, at least."
The young cleric gazes at the unicorn with a sorrowful expression. "I don't have the strength to purify this pool, and I don't perform funeral services for animals."
Anastacia climbs down from Avalanche's back.
"Someone took that horn, so there should be tracks leading to the unicorn and away from it."
Anastacia starts looking from where she alighted from Avalanche. She knows that she is not the really a tracker, and does not want to cover the horn poacher's tracks with her own.
No tracks, it appears the unicorn may have been dead for some time, likely long enough for the rain to have washed away the tracks.
"Are there anything we can do about this pool, or are we just going to ride on?"
Natalie doesn't know her wit's end about anything to help this area and hopes the others have an idea of what we can do here.
"It's not within my power to purify the pool either, though it seems that it's simply a fetid pool in an area of marshland. I am most concerned by whomever killed it without a mark and only for its horn. That bodes ill for the area, but without anything to track I'm not sure we can do more then continue our search and keep this in the back of our minds." Wilhelm looks at the creature's corpse pensively, "I suppose we could burn or bury it's body, but to say I am not an expert in the funeral rites of unicorns is an understatement. Shall we build it a pyre and then be off?"
"A pyre ... Would kill two birds with one stone I guess. A fire 'may' purify some of the toxic odours from the pool and kick nature back on track." Fhârn grins. "But I suggest we are far far far away when we light it. Swamp gas is highly combustible - and violently so."
Munin looks at his master in chock and shakes his head.
The mage-knight pats his raven on the head affectionately.
"Sorry. Poor choice of words, my friend."
"If we leave it here it may serve as a warning that this pool is poisonous. It's body will decompose and return to the earth."
Anastacia raises an eyebrow at Munin. "Unless it's flesh is tainted by poison. We wouldn't want the carrion birds to eat it and die. Perhaps a pyre is best after all."
Wilhelm looks from Fharn to Anastacia in bemusement, struggling to hide a smile. "So it would seem you both do and don't advocate for burning the poor creature's body?" Snorting in amusement, Wilhelm shakes his head and continues, "I think it might be best to lay the dead not-horse to rest. A cairn or a grave will be difficult in a swamp, so it would seem we're stuck with our pyre idea. I would prefer to leave the forest unburnt, so we shall have to carry it some ways from the dangerous gas and then burn it. Is that acceptable?"
With a nod Fhârn chuckled. "Indeed. This way, should anything go south, we can shake our heads and say 'told you so!', no matter what you decide to do!"
"The lingering traces of Death magic have been known to halt decomposition for quite a while. The pyre would probably be the only option close to a proper burial for a long while. And we would do well to be on the lookout for whatever cast that spell, they are typically not easy to master or use."
The raven bobs his head at Anastacia, glad that atleast some were sensitive to the perils of the feathered kin!
"So? Should we tie it to the horse to drag away from here?"
"Undignified, but effective. Let's see if we can't lash together a makeshift sled or something, to make it a bit easier on the horses..."
"It means I'm not sure what the best course would be." With a decision made, Anastacia sets to work, helping Fhârn fashion his travois and load the heavy body on it.
The group drags the poor unicorn away from the pool, and over into a portion of the clearing where the ground is soggy. Spending a few hours gathering wood and piling it up around the corpse, they soon build a largish bonfire.
The smell of burning horseflesh fills the woods as the sun sets.
"Ubagub good at dragging. Gorruum too. You see. Very useful. Horse once with horn smell good in fire. Gorruum hungry. What next?"
Nose wrinkling as they ride away from the scent of burning hair, Wilhelm chuckles, "I'm sure your skill at dragging things around will come in helpful Gorrum. I think we should continue our explorations." Wilhelm looks at the sky, speculatively for a moment.
After a few moment's ride and a little further reflection, Wilhelm opines, "Perhaps it might be best to let Tiressia know of the unicorn's death. If it was her friend, she would wish it and if not, then perhaps she will know some next of kin. Let us move through her glade briefly and then continue on with our exploration."
"Troubling times we live in. Troubling times."
Natalie sighs "I guess you are right Wilhelm, but i doubt she'll be happy to see us wade into her glade again so soon."
"Well ... She will be really crossed with us if she when she hears the rumours that we were seen dragging an dead unicorn around. So better give her the full story. Maybe she has an inkling to what happened too."
-Posted with Wayfinder
The group moves back to the Dryad's clearing, and alerts her as to the death of the unicorn. She seems saddened, but thanks the group for the information.
Then they continue on.
As the exploration of this section continues, on the second day, Munin comes squawking back to Fharn, cawwing about ruins.
As the group moves forward, following the bird's directions...
A ruined, circular keep looms out of the forest, surrounded by towering, ancient trees draped with hanging moss. Four circular towers sprout from the cracked walls like the trunks of great trees, at least one crumbled into rubble. Twisting vines and thick moss cover the walls in a coat of verdant green, blending the ruins almost seamlessly into the surrounding woods. The overgrown remains of a path lead to an open, arched gateway gaping in the keep’s eastern wall, its doors long since rotted away.
I hadn't thought to find a keep so far into the forest. It has been here a great time, so perhaps there was some reason for it's presence in such an odd place. Wilhelm rides slowly through the forest as he gazes up at it, curious as to its nature. "Odd to find it so deep in the forest, though it has clearly been here a time. Shall we have a look?"
Natalie not fully accustomed to ride yet, looks somewhat happy at the chance to stretch her legs "I second that Wilhelm! I'll welcome any chance to out of the saddle, I wonder if its one of our keeps."
Natalie takes a closer look at the ruin
"Aye. An interesting feature indeed. We should take a look, but be on your guard, the walls are already crumbling. Wouldn't want that thing to fall down over us, would we?"
Fhârn chuckles as he dismounts and ties up Hestor a few steps away from the keep, enough distance so that falling rubble wouldn't injure the horse. He walks up towards the doorway, but do not enter. His eyes glazes over for a moment and he mumbles some invocation.
"I'm just going to take a quick look ..."
"Many old things in wood and swamp. Gorruum and Ubagub can go in if Fhârn sees something or nothing." Gorruum and Unagub wait patiently, watching the keep for movement.
"We're here to investigate things of this kind." Anastacia casts detect magic to help as she examines the area. 'This region does seem to have a lot of old ruins."
Anastacia climbs down from Avalanche, but trusts the warhorse's training to keep him close.
The cleric has a look around.
"Crumbling indeed. I wonder who built the thing. Do you have any idea, Fhârn? I'm hardly up to snuff about my history, so I'm not sure what empire or nation it might be." Wilhelm dismounts and approaches the wall, looking at it and studying the pitting and growth on the wall. "Were there many such old ruins in your land, Gorruum? Were they similar?"
Gorruum cocks his head, trying out the word on his tongue, "Similar? Broken stone. Yes. Similar. Hooms like stone. Lots of work. Build. Leave. Break. Swamp and woods return."
A graceful tower rises out of the keep’s central courtyard, now overgrown with bushes, undergrowth, and several sizable trees. Like the outer walls, the tower is draped with vines and creepers, and several small plants have taken up residence on ledges and in cracks along its sides.
The northeast tower looks to be in bad shape with some holes in the side scattered up it's length, the roof appears gone.
A wooden door made from roughly-cut timber planks, obviously of newer construction than the rest of the keep, blocks the entrance to the southeast tower. The roof has obviously collapsed in like the northeast tower, but leafy vines and forest canopy seem to have replaced the roof.
The upper reaches of southwest tower have completely collapsed.
The northwest tower stretches high into the sky, its upper reaches hidden in the forest’s canopy. The vines choking the tower’s exterior, which are festooned with bleached humanoid skulls, nearly obscure the dark arrow slits. It is the only tower that seems to have survived the ravages of time.
The keep’s central tower is an elegant spire of ivory colored stone, draped with a riot of vines and other plants. The most complete structure in the entire fortress, its walls climb 70 feet to a multi-pointed stone roof.
"I doubt we're alone here. The keep seems to be in use." Wilhelm points out the trampled grass he's been kneeling to examine. He stands, armor clattering, and looks at Fhârn. "Found anything of interest? We'll want to take a look inside but I'd like to know what we're getting ourselves into."