Tristan's eyes go wide as the creature appears and swallows Raquel, but his instincts and reflexes have grown somewhat accustomed to this manner of surprise. His lips and hands weave a spell as he moves forward to aid his companion - though in what way, he's not yet sure.
There is a wet tearing sound as a blade suddenly sticks through the creature's gullet and Raquel stumbles out, having cut herself free!
Even as the cleric watches, the wound she made knits itself together again leaving the creature unharmed. It lashes out at her with bite and with long, vine-like tendrils, but Raquel ducks most of it, although the teeth open a nasty wound that leaves her gravely injured. Her only consolation is that the thing doesn't try to swallow her again. Maybe it's just waiting until she's dead.
Aivar
Arianna
Sasha
Tristan
Nariel
Raquel 7/45, sickened
"Raquel needs us! Forward!" A quartet of elementals then pop into existence, causing Aivar to momentarily wonder if he has powers beyond his own comprehension.
Raquel groans weakly as she staggers out into the muck, a groan which turns into a scream as the monster's teeth tear into her again. "C-cayden! Help me..." she whimpers, drawing her wand with her buckler hand and using it to heal herself. She prays she can hold on long enough for her friends to reach her.
"Over here, you overgrown pile of hedge clippings!" Tristan says, taunting his foe more out of habit than actually thinking it will have any effect. He attacks the creature hoping to get its attention off of Raquel, ready to dodge whatever it throws at him.
Sasha accepts the drink with a raised eyebrow and knocks it back.
Sasha aims high and looses an arrow at the plant creature, careful not to hit Tristan or Raquel. Without checking to see if her shot was true, she shoulders her bow and rushes into the foul-smelling muck.
Upon completion of her incantation, four mounds of earth rise up some thirty feet from Nariel. Though short, they are lumbering creatures of stone and dirt, with glowing emerald eyes. As soon as the elementals gain form, they immediately burrow into the earth, though only one surfaces and attempts to slam the bizarre plant creature with its stone fists.
Surveying the battle with urgency, Nariel quickly realized that she would have to move closer to boost all of her allies. Though relieved that Raquel had cut herself loose, Nariel cursed quietly knowing that her frail constitution likely could not handle the bog "Damnit, this place is revolting."
Almost immediately, the noxious fumes suffocated Nariel and made her feel quite sick, though thankfully not nauseous... yet. Quickly retrieving some licorice root from her belt pouch, Nariel fought through her discomfort to cast another spell. Her spell completed, Nariel shifted back, trying to get out of the bog again.
Arianna rushes in, rounding the plant creature and raising her axe. "Raquel! Are you okay!?"
Arianna quickly studies the monster, though she isn't certain what it is, and swings at it.
"A giant plant monster is trying to eat me alive! I am so not okay!" Raquel shouts back at Arianna.
Arianna
As Arianna, Aivar and Tristan rush towards the towering, plant-like creature they realise just how vast it truly is - not so much that it grows out of the scenery than that it is the scenery. And with that size, goes an enormous reach. With a practiced ease, it lifts Arianna off the ground as she steps towards it, before swallowing her whole just as it previously did to Raquel!
Aivar
Arianna 29/51
Sasha sickened
Tristan
Nariel sickened
Raquel 25/45, sickened
Tendriculos - 30
Arianna moves in--and looks up at the creature now towering over her. "Oh, shi--" is all she gets before it snaps her up.
For a moment, in the literal belly of the beast, her limbs lock up, and she would scream from the acid if her jaw weren't stiff. She doesn't think, just acts, pushing through the paralysis with force of will backing up the strength of her body. Nevermind that she can't see, she knows she has her axe in hand and desperately, angrily cuts away.
”Oh, hells, not again!” Raquel groans as the monster swallows up Arianna. She stabs at the plant with her rapier.
As the monstrous plant swallows another one of her friends, Nariel's eyes widen in shock and horror. Shaking her head, Nariel whispered as she reached for her magic wand "Nethys save us... this thing is monstrous."
As the missiles honed in on their target, suddenly all of the earth elementals surface and immediately began pummeling the creature with their lumbering stone fists.
"C'mon, over here! Bloody living PLANTS! Damnit, can you even hear me? "
Tristan pours his frustration into his words, giving them magical force. Woe to be a duelist in battle with... all the strange foes the Stolen Lands produced.
.
"Stop talking to it! Start hacking it to bits!"
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"I think you fundamentally misunderstand my skillset!"
The vast plant shudders under the combined force of blows from the elementals, and when Arianna hacks herself free the gash doesn't heal up in the way it did when Raquel escaped. Finally, Aivar's flaming glaive carves it into pieces and it sinks to the ground. The vine-like tendrils lash angrily for a few moments, and then all is still.
Aivar makes sure Raquel is okay before returning his attention to Tristan. You swear you can see the cogs turning inside Aivar's mind to make sense of everything that just happened. "My sister taught me that plants grow better and faster when you talk and sing to them. Grow! Oh well, we dealt with this ... monster of nature, and thank the Good Gods above, Raquel is ok." He then waves away whatever thoughts on this specific topic linger inside his mind, and moves on.
"Should we bring a sample of this, eh, plant, with us? Maybe the arcane-inclined can use it for research. Ugh, maybe Bokken can use it for some sort of regenerative potion."
Raquel breathes heavily as she helps haul Arianna out from the plant’s remains. ”That is not an experience I would care to repeat.” She channels healing energy before taking a long swig of her ale and offering the flask to Arianna.
Once she’s sure it’s safe, she will finish harvesting the mushrooms.
Arianna takes the flask and drinks from it. "Urgh. Disgusting. The plant, not the drink. The hell is with the plants, anyways? They're huge, and eat...anything, seems like."
The monstrosity felled, Nariel ran up and took one knee beside Raquel and Arianna. Concern written across her face, Nariel did her best to inspect for injuries "Are you both alright?" With a quick but gentle rap on Raquel's leg, Nariel frowned, though her voice betrayed genuine consternation "Do not go running off ahead again like that again Raquel! You gave me an awful scare."
Standing up, Nariel realized that her elementals were still loitering about, awaiting commands. With a nod, Nariel spoke in a strange sounding language that placed heavy emphasis on each syllable "Chen-moh ne hegh path." Suddenly the elements each gave the plant creature one last strike, ensuring its demise.
Moving in beside Aivar quietly, Nariel nodded "That is an excellent idea Aivar, I would very much like to study its regenerative properties. Failing that, you are right, Bokken might have use of it." Drawing her dagger, Nariel moved in beside the elementals and carved a small piece of the creature and placed it in a vial. Holding up the vial towards the sky, Nariel sighed lightly and added ruefully "There sure are a lot of foul creatures in the Stolen Lands." Glancing down at the lumbering elementals, Nariel nodded and spoke again in the strange, harsh sounding dialect "T'ha mey terra." Slowly, the elementals dissolved back to the earth from whence they came.
With the plant thing dead, you are able to scour the rest of the pit for the few remaining rattlecap mushrooms that weren't trampled during the fight.
Raquel looks properly admonished. ”I’m sorry, I will be more careful,” she tells Nariel.
11 Lamashan 4719
It is raining, and has now done so continuously for over a week: not hard, but continuously, a sort of misty drizzle that settles on your cloak like beads of dew. The strong winds that have whipped up seem to drive in your face whichever way you turn.
Leaving the pit of boiling mud behind you, you have pressed on South, eventually coming to the Little Sellen River. Despite its name, it is broad and fast-flowing - certainly too swift and too deep to contemplate crossing. On the far side of the river, you spot a series of derelict farmhouses, clearly abandoned and now home to nothing more than flocks of sheltering crows.
Travelling Eastward, following the river, a day or so later you encounter a flimsy collection of ramshackle dwellings and poorly-tended fields with even more poorly-tended cattle wandering to and fro. The assembly of buildings is little more than a few houses hastily constructed together. Your arrival draws a cry of alarm and some moments later a handful of anxious-looking villagers arrive, with pitchforks and scythes held in trembling hands.
Once you are able to persuade them you are not bandits, their trepidation subsides and you are invited in to their meagre hovels. Their leader, a blonde-bearded man in his early thirties introduces himself as Kelwyn. It transpires that they are the sole surviving migrants from the abandoned village you saw on the other side of the river (which turns out to be the Mivon border). They fled to avoid the plague which has swept through that benighted land and have been here two winters, getting ready for their third.
Kelwyn scratches at his beard. "A pity, really - a few years back our old place had a ferry point, it was the only spot the Little Sellen could be crossed. Not that many wanted to go to and from the Stolen Lands, but there was enough trappers and hunters to make a decent living. Now we're just scraping by off the land."
”We’ve recently founded a town of our own north of here. You would be welcome to settle there, provided you are willing to work to make a living,” Raquel tells the villagers as she dispenses drinks to warm their bellies.
With the invitation extended, Aivar has no choice but to go along with it. "Before we tread that topic, perhaps some introductions are in order. I am Aivar Kurisyl of house Orlovsky and I rule the Mark that has been founded to the north of here. As the priestess of Cayden mentioned, a town has been founded north, and if you so desire, we can see what we can do to help you settle right in."
But something tells him these people, hardened by the lands they inhabit, aren't looking for help from outsiders. "If not that, maybe, in due time, we can make sure a path finds its way to your village so you can connect with the outside world again." What this would entail to for the village's independence Aivar wisely does not touch upon - for now. "To elaborate on that, you grow crops. Travelers, groups of hunters and those looking to exploit the resources found in these hills might be more inclined to head on over here knowing there's a farming community nearby to help them stay supplied. In that sense, we can help one another. For now, let us break bread together and talk about your village and its families."
Kelwyn gives Raquel a dubious look: "I thank you, My Lady, and My Lord." He bows as Aivar introduces himself. "Might I see your map?" He scratches at his beard again as he squints to see where your province is, and his dubious expression redoubles in dubiosity.
"Hrm. Fifty, sixty miles through the hills? I'm sure your Lordships have no difficulty with that, blessed as you are with fine horses. But there are two dozen of us here. On foot, with no means to carry our food, and no way to forage for that many, it might as well be six hundred miles. But I thank you for your kindness. Let me repay it as best I can."
He quickly sketches out the surrounding area for you. "Everything bounded by the Little Sellen, that side is Mivon. The nearest town is Sellnford, some twenty miles south of here - or at least it was. Like I said, we cut ourselves off a year or more back to avoid the plague."
"West of here there's nothing but the Woods and the Water, and we don't go near either. There's nothing in the deep woods but trouble, and death. And that island has ruins on it - rumours of treasure, but nobody I know who's tried it has ever returned."
"East of here is grassland, and beyond that, mountains. Or so I'm told. Never been there myself."
Raquel thanks Kelwyn for helping to fill out their map. ”Treasure island sounds promising. We’ll have to come back with a boat to check it out. So, should we head deep into the woods or go back to town for now?”
Aivar thanks the man for being so open and willing to exchange (useful!) information. "You have our gratitude, Kelwyn. If there's anything we can do in return, please do tell. We have skilled healers among us and a couple of healing potions we could gift you - it would be a weight off my shoulders to know you are not completely helpless out here. "
"It may be we can get some information on the state of Mivon and update you," Tristan muses while look south to the border. "It's certainly our concern whether or not the plague is still rampant, and if we can push a road through to ease trade... well, that is all to be seen, but knowledge must come first."
Choosing to remain silent and take notes, Nariel tried not attract any attention to herself. Experience had taught her that humans living in isolation or remotely from more metropolitan areas often inherently distrusted non-humans. To that end, Nariel left her cloak hood half-way drawn up, covering her elven ears... though in truth she knew her eyes were still a dead give away.
Nariel's eyes widened a little at the mention of plague, and she nodded unconsciously with Tristan as he raised concerns about the possibility of disease just south of the river. To emphasis the point, she underlined the note in her journal.
Kelwyn looks slightly bewildered (but pleased, too) by Aivar's largesse. "Thank you, My Lord." He gives a close approximation of a bow. "Please return any time."
"I don't know that it's wise to encourage trade if there's plague," Arianna says, once away from the village. "Don't get me wrong, I know that this village would benefit if we could get trade moving thisaway, but disease, disease is really bad, with how fragile things are."
Aivar tries to do the math in his head and goes quiet for a moment as the numbers run away from his mind: darn numbers never were his friend. "That's something worth taking into consideration. Alas, I doubt we'll be connecting with the south anytime soon. Even six months feels like a really optimistic estimate ..." Pressing concerns of expanding the mining operations at all costs, treasury be damned, find their way back to the paladin's mind. He shakes his head as if caught by a spasm and turns his gaze westward. "Anyway, we should make preparations to return west and then back up north again. We have a gift for someone and I need to ask her about these silver shears. I noticed she carried a pair of shears as well and with where we found these, that can't be a coincidence." Whatever that means and or implies.
Raquel throws Aivar a mock salute. "You're the graf!"
Mindful of his position as diplomat, Tristan takes a bit of time to make the acquaintance of the village leaders before saddling up and departing with his fellows.
Looking at the map for a short moment, Nariel nodded to confirm what Aivar had said in a calculating and cool manner "I would concur with your assessment Lord Kurisyl; it will take us many months, perhaps even the outside of a year or longer to build any roads this way if we are being realistic." Glancing up, Nariel was aware that she was perhaps coming of as a little callous in her tone, and added with a smile "That being said, it is a worthwhile long-term objective now that we know this colony exists." Rolling up her scrolls and notes, Nariel began to prepare for the journey back towards Brigid's home.
You spend the night accepting the hospitality of the farmstead, before setting off the following morning for Brigid's domain. This involves skirting the edge of the vast lake and crossing two different rivers, both of which are swollen with heavy rainfall. Fortunately nobody is lost to the fast-flowing waters, but you do all get soaked to the skin. Evenings are wet, miserable affairs shivering over a fire that never seems to get hot enough to dry you out.
After a week, you have made it round the edges of the lake and back to the strangely-latticed parcel of land that protects the fey Watcher.
The tiny fey opens up the portal when you arrive, ushering you through the garden (where it still seems to be a glorious, hot summer's day) and into her hut.
"Well and so, well and so. I'm guessing you've a little something for oul' Brigid, have you?" Her eyes sparkle with amusement. "I'm trusting that the winning of it wasn't more trouble than you could handle."
Raquel is grateful for the change in the weather within Brigid's domain. She hands the fairie the bundle of mushrooms. "Here you are. We almost got eaten by a monstrous plant in order to acquire them, so I hope they fit the bill!"
"As Raquel said, we encountered a murderous plant the size of an ogre. We were lucky not to lose anyone to its savage instincts to murder and maim. With that said", Aivar says in a matter-of-fact manner, knowing well by now that fey tend to not give a damn about mortals being harmed. He reaches for the silver shears they found many weeks ago at the place of the scythe tree massacre and shows them to the fey lady. "I could not help but notice that you own a pair of shears as well. Do these mean anything to you? We ... we found them amongst the bodies of a sizable amount of fey. The poor things were butchered by scythe trees."
Thoroughly miserable from the rain, Nariel was all too glad to be in the rolling gardens of Brigid's home. Sneezing as she sat down, Nariel nodded as Raquel recounted their encounter with the Tendriculous.
As Aivar produced the silver sheers, Nariel stared at them quietly and shuttered involuntarily as she remembered their encounter with the Scythe Trees. Wrapping her arms around herself in a somewhat defensive manner, Nariel quietly added "Murderous, monstrous things."
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Brigid's eyes glint with mischief as you recount your encounter with the tendriculous: "Ah, sure, and such as yerselves wanting to be tangling wit' the Queen, don't tell oul' Brigid you couldn't handle a little thing such as that!"
"Now then." She gratefully accepts the small mushrooms you hand over to her. "You've done oul' Brigid a service and according to the lore and tales, you can have a service in return. I promised you'd have the knowing of things, and so you shall, as far as I can tell it..."
Once upon a Timelessness (for we are talking of the First World here, where little things that mortals get so concerned about - time, cause and effect, gravity - don't really apply in the same way) the Eldest ordered things to their liking, although not without lots of squabbles among theirselves, the like of which you don't need to be knowing about right now.
Anyway and so, they ordered things to their liking and the fey were ruled by their own kindred in two Great Courts: the Seelie Court, having to do with the Summer; and the Unseelie Court, having to do with the Winter. And so it was, for many a time.
But then, one Queen of the Unseelie Court gave way to another, in usual fashion, and this newer Queen had plans. Why should she rule only half the fey? And this Queen was not only given to such thoughts, but she had the wit and cunning to snare one of the Eldest into her schemes. With his power, she would overthrow the order of things and establish a single Court. In return, he would receive devotion and love from the fey, making him more powerful than the other Eldest. Besotted with love for her (for I have to tell you that this Queen was surpassing beautiful, even by the standards of her kind), he agreed to this thing.
Of course, plans never survive contact with reality, even that thin poor reality of the First World. The other Eldest were not amused by this scheme to overthrow their own great plan - they joined together and banished the rogue Eldest from their realm, and from reality altogether - even his name is now forgotten by all, and whatever is left of him haunts some sad, lonely plane of bare existence.
As for the Queen... her punishment was almost to succeed, for the Eldest know that almost is one of the greatest and most significant of words. She cast down her opposite, the Queen of the Seelie Court, and just as it seemed that victory was in her grasp, the Eldest snatched it from her. They took her power and her might, and imprisoned her to lie in slumber, dreaming only of what she once had before it was all taken from her.
Of course, all that raw power that they took from her had to go somewhere, so they dropped it into this plane. This land, here, is what remains - energy is mass is matter, don't go troubling your heads with the whys and hows of it, just accept it. So when I say you are on the Queen's land, know that it belongs to her, is part of her, and she is still linked to it. She knows what was taken from her and she wants to be reunited with it.
Well, the Eldest, they're... they're as different from us as a fey is from you, and you'll have to take my word on that. Your mortal gods, now, they'd have said "Be asleep forever and a day" and that would be the end of it. The Eldest don't work like that, and never have. Eventually, they knew she would wake up, but, eh, that's a problem for later. But they did establish a Watcher, who would sit here and watch for signs of the Queen stirring out of sleep and back to wakefulness.
And that's what oul' Brigid has been doing, ever since.
He reaches for the silver shears they found many weeks ago at the place of the scythe tree massacre and shows them to the fey lady. "I could not help but notice that you own a pair of shears as well. Do these mean anything to you? We ... we found them amongst the bodies of a sizable amount of fey. The poor things were butchered by scythe trees."
The tiny fey's eyes fill with sudden tears. "Ah, bless you fer findin' that! It would have belonged to one of my sisters, who grew and blessed and tended that great forest out there since time out of mind." She shakes her head and wipes her nose on a handkerchief that she produces from nowhere.
"They felt it, they did, my sisters, along with all the good-hearted fey that used to live here: the dryads and the nymphs and the others. When she started to stir in her slumber, as she does now, and pressed her mind and her awareness into this realm, they were persuaded to rise up against her - dratted fools!" She gives another long sniff into her hankie. "Don't ever go following a unicorn, that's my advice. They've good hearts and so they have, but they'll insist on confronting things that are best left well alone."
She shakes her head sorrowfully. "Truth be told, I don't think they realised how awake she had become. Bending mortals to her will, that was something they didn't expect. Cold iron!" She shudders, and wraps her shawl closer around her. "They slaughtered everyone and dragged poor Brightmane off to who knows where - mortals aren't in my remit, you see, I've not the knowing of what they did with him."
She gives another sniff. "Sending those dratted scythe trees to feed off their bodies was an artful touch. She's not lost an ounce of her craft - or her malice. Even half-asleep as she still is."
Raquel shivers as Brigid's story causes a chill to run down her spine. "I fear this queen will be a grave menace to our burgeoning mark. Thank you for the tale, Brigid. We will endeavor to protect ourselves and our people from her machinations."
She turns to her friends. "I think this is the perfect time to return to town and check in on things."
Bothered by being the bearer of bad news, Aivar averts his eyes. "Perhaps it would be wise for us to not indulge you any further and avoid hearing more of what would only fill our hearts with hate. That, alas, seems what she is intent on. We ... I think we have brought enough words of worry and tragedy into your home for today."
Inside his soul and mind, Aivar struggles with the reality that perhaps Brightmane's fate is a beautiful tragedy: a lesson worth taking note of, even if it manifests itself in an altogether unswallowable manner. If such a noble creature with a heart of gold could not correct this otherworldly she-b%!@@, what chance would he and his friends have? None. Deny her where you can and look to tomorrow with hope and love. She can't, so go where can't follow. Optimism and heartfelt hope swell up inside the paladin. Maybe they do have a chance against this Queen after all.
"You're right, Raquel. We have a thousand things to do and a thousand more things to plan. Ah, the thought alone makes my head spin."
The moment Brigid began to recount her tale of the fey court, Nariel quickly retrieved her journal and a quill. Hastily finding a blank page, she scrawled down what she could. Enraptured by the story, Nariel hung on her every word. As the ancient fey drew her story to a close, Nariel finished up her last note, only murmuring "Utterly fascinating..."
Closing her book up again, Nariel glanced up again as Aivar presented the sheers. Remaining silent, Nariel appeared crestfallen as the good-natured fey wept for her sisters. "Well, at least the Scythe Trees are no more. I am so sorry Brigid, this news is tragic. I was heart broken when we found Brightmane and the remains of the others." Again, Nariel shuddered at the thought of the Scythe Trees, with such a clear intent to end her life too after having fed of the life force of so many others.
As Raquel and Aivar spoke of returning to Thornmark, Nariel's mood lifted. The thought of burying herself in the business of expansion and government was surprisingly a welcome break from all that she had learned just now. Standing up with a nod, Nariel adds with a hint of excitement "Agreed, let us be on our way back to town. We have much catch up on."
Arianna listens with rapt attention, her frown deepening. "That's...this is unbelievable. A Queen of the Winter Court? A unicorn leading a counterattack? A, a land just appearing? It's so nonsensical so why does it explain so much?" She counts out on her fingers. "The dead unicorn, the Stag Lord rising to prominence, the dwarven maps, the rivers running the wrong way, and now..."
She turns to her friends, and says, "How are you being so casual about this?!"
Raquel shrugs. "It's fairly standard stuff, as far as faeries go."
Unlike Raquel, Aivar has little to no understanding of the fey and their mindboggling effect on the world around them. "I am not, but it is up to us to steer this ship to safe waters and there is no way I will be able to do that if I do not ... if I can't make this small and handleable, even if that goes against all conventional wisdom and reason."
With light grin, Nariel nods in agreement with Racquel "I have studied the fey, learned their language; I find them fascinating as some of you have probably gathered by now," pausing to take a breath, Nariel adds "so it is as Raquel has said, none of this comes as a shock for such fantastical creatures."
Appearing more reflective, Nariel continues "Nonetheless, this most recent revelation gives cause for consternation. If the Queen of the Unseelie Court is attempting to return to this place, there is a greater danger here that will have to addressed."