Mal shrugs. "At the very least, if you come along with us we can make sure you get back to your family safely once all this business is concluded."
Listening to the conversation between Daldin, Malylev, and Garborn, Vladimir relents.
"You are welcome to come with us under one condition - you only fight to defend yourself, otherwise leave any battles to us. My reasoning being that I would hate to have more misfortune befall your family. Understood?"
Garborn grins and claps a massive hand between Daldin's shoulder blades.
"Good! All sorted out now. Come, SQUIRE Daldin!"
Daldin nods with some enthusiasm... "This way.. I'll show you a nearby shallow crossing."
You make your way kneedeep across the river, and into the woods... in the direction indicated by Melianse.
Due to frequent nigh impassable thickets (in the first leg of your journey) where the trees are less dense, it is challenging to maintain your heading.
Garborn chuckles to himself.
"Need to travel ten miles. If only Garborn, easy. Druid knows how to travel thickets easily.
But for comrades, probably feel like hundred miles before get there, GYAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Mal chuckles. "Unhappy little folk can make the journey long even for a druid, Garborn. I'll do my best not to slow you down," says the man who's been living alone in the wilderness for years and years.
"Just let me empty the current stones out of my boots before we get new ones."
"I do not suppose it can be all that much worse than some of the other areas we have had to traverse. Let us be on our way." Vladimir says, sounding resigned to the fate of a less than pleasant journey.
Garborn leads the way, showing that even if he might be considered boasting, there are a lot of truths to his claims.
Even a man as massive and clumsy looking like Garborn can apparently all but dance through the words like a ballerina, never stepping in the worst patches, never catching his clothes on any briars, and smartly stepping aside from any falling pieces of wood.
Making your way beyond a part of the wood crowded with tangles of weeds, and scrawny scantly-branched tall and straight trees mid-afternoon, you enter another glade of verdant idyllic foliage. You begin to hear something.. music somewhere in the distance. It sounds to be some sort of wind instrument. The volume and clarity of it increases as you continue on your intended course. The melancholy melody floats on the air.
Garborn stops and listens for a bit, his large face tightening in concentration.
Turning to the others, he winks.
"We come in peace yes? So announcing good intention is wise, hehe."
Then, once he has got the measure of the melody, he begins to sing, matching the music with his rich voice.
The trees part to reveal a peaceful forest glade dappled with sunlight. A small pond lies placidly at the roots of an enormous oak tree with a scattering of leaves floating upon its surface. Birdsong twitters from the branches high above.
A goat-legged and horned man sits with his back against the oak.. blowing into a pan flute. Above him - on the lowest branch - sits a fair woman with hair like the most vivid autumn leaves.. wearing what appears to be twisted and curling vines in shades of gold and green - woven into a revealing short dress. Her legs dangle and lightly swing.
She smiles as you approach.
The man raises an eyebrow, but keeps playing...
Garborn obviously approaches bold as brass, it's his way and he doesn't feel particularly scared of most fey at any rate.
He does however decide to see if he can change the tune a little.
He had tried to fit his song to the tune of the pipes, now he seeks to sing a song and see if the pipes match him.
In Hope's Heaven Town there lived a girl
Fairer than the flower I'm wearin'
Rose Donoghue--all fresh and new
And I love her past all carin'
And there she goes my Ringsend Rose
In God's Garden there's none rarer
And there she goes my Ringsend Rose
Hope's Heaven Town has seen none fairer
Sweet seventeen, my seamstress queen
She's no bigger than a thimble
Soft satin skin, street Arab's grin
Sure she makes the work looks simple
Three yards of lace to walk with grace
And the golden ring she's askin'
The savin's slow--ah but still I know
That our love is ever-lasting
And there she goes my Ringsend Rose
In God's Garden there's none rarer
And there she goes my Ringsend Rose
Hope's Heaven Town has seen none fairer
Vladimir calls out to the woman. "Are you Tiressia? We have come at the behest of nixie, Melianse."
"We are in need of your aid, and it is our understanding, you could potentially be in need of ours."
As Garborn sings beautifully to the piper's accompaniment.. the piper gives the slender fair woman a few sidelong looks. As she appears to enjoy the performance more and more, he seems to relax and lets go.. his piping becomes more dynamic.. and he stands - getting into the music.
At the end of the song, the woman slides off the branch and lands softly - as if a fraction what you'd think she'd weigh.
"Yes.. I am. This is Falchos. The piper nods - currently eyeing your weapons and gear. She continues "If Melianse knows I am capable of giving you aid, it's yours.. and much more if you are able to help us."
As she speaks, she lightly steps to Garborn and Malylev's companion, and greets them with an offered hand, then gentle strokes.
"An abomination - great evil - slowly grinds its way here. A massive carnivorous creature.. a scythe tree has been defiling and devouring my lands. Many of my fellow fey have fallen against it... Falchos - his wounds were grievous.. on the threshold to death. Each day it inches closer... as we speak, it is little more than a mile to the south."
"Scythe tree? Not something Garborn have encountered before, but sounds pretty bad.
And only mile away? Even moving slowly, not much distance.
Heh, Garborn used to stumble into situations with little time."
Garborn turns to Vlad and raises an inquiring eyebrow.
"Clearly a threat to the landscape," says Marisol. "A tree, is it? We should be sure to bring fire to such a conflict."
The swordsman ponders question a bit before saying, "I have heard of such a plant before. Incredibly deadly, as I am sure you might have guessed by the scythe part of the name."
Vladimir turns to Marisol and smiles, "Fire sounds utterly appropriate, my love."
"Every garden needs clearing from time to time, we go prune weed from garden."
Garborn pounds a fist against his large chest and chuckles.
"Today, we earn our bread!"
Mal nods. "We can't leave something like that alive."
Tiressia clasps her hands together and beams, then her expression turns grave.. "Please.. be careful. Thank you."
Falchos nods.. "Best of luck to you. Be warned.. it moves slowly, but its attacks are quick."
As the group starts to mount up, Nico says, "I am leery of using fire in the middle of a forest. We could, um, cause a problem much bigger than the one we are trying to solve."
"We'll have to try to draw it out into a place where we can hit it without causing a forest fire," says Marisol. "If I can close with it, I can use a scorching ray with my cutlass."
Daldin timidly raises his hand - like a reminder of his presence.
"This sounds more dangerous than expected.. yes?"
"More dangerous than expected? Hardly. Thus the condition that was made for you to join us. No fighting for you unless it is to defend yourself. Leave going into harm's way to us." Vladimir says.
Nico rides in silence for a few minutes after the exchange with Daldin, vetoing several responses and follow-up questions that would serve only to rattle the man further. Eventually, though, he decides there's one that needs to be asked, regardless of how it might affect the man. Addressing Vladimir, he says, "Do you, um, know what one of these trees looks like? In a forest like this--or, uh, any forest for that matter--we could presumably walk past one without knowing it. Assuming we made it past."
"If we need it, I can call up a water elemental to put out any fires. Hopefully it won't come to that, but fire shouldn't be too much of a problem."
Garborn grins and gives Nico's shoulder a light thump.
"Garborn foresee no problem in identifying tree, after all, doubt any other trees will be moving around, gyahahahaha!
The sweet stench of decay hangs thick in this woodland clearing. Knotted branches of sickly trees line the perimeter, creating a thick canopy that blocks most of the sunlight and cloaks the hollow in shadow. Withered vegetation struggles to grow in ragged clumps among the multitude of bones strewn across the forest floor.
Forty feet from you, stands a dark gnarled tree. A horizontal scar spreads across its trunk. It is well over twenty feet tall, with dark, twisted and exposed roots; a few reddish-brown leaves hang on the gnarled, wickedly curved branches. There is a faint rustling sound, but no movement as you come to the edge of the clearing.
Nico leans over to Vladimir and says, quietly, "I withdraw my question."
"Hehe!"
Garborn quickly dismounts, he wasn't much of a fighter on horseback, and he wanted to get ready to start summoning a few friends.
Perhaps a few fire elementals might be most useful here?
The scar on the trunk splits to reveal a wide mouth... it speaks with an unnaturally low rumbling voice, and a ponderous cadence.
Apart from its sinister mouth, it remains still.
"The scent I follow.. carried on the winds.. you carry it too. The scent of a dryad... I crave.. I hunger for a taste. Horse flesh and man will do for now. Come...."
"Hehe, tree invites us into mouth, courteous no? Gracious host.
But feel like not accepting invitation, not Garborn's idea of good time!"
Looking over his shoulder, he grins and winks at the others.
"We make better party, no?"
Mal just shakes his head. "Just kill it, Garborn. This thing shouldn't exist." He starts murmuring his own magic words, intending to summon a small fire elemental of his own.
Nico frowns as he pulls out a shaving of licorice root. "At least our new friend will be pleased to know that it was, um, coming for her personally." He gestures with his hand, tapping each of his companions lightly on the shoulder while speaking the words to a spell.
As casting begins, the wicked tree yanks its roots from the ground, and begins to lumber toward you.
Mal stays where he is, continuing to call to the plane of fire for an assistant. Skokan growls down low in his chest as the tree uproots itself and stomps toward them but waits for his two-legged friends to move first before charging in.
Bolstered by the haste spell, Marisol draws her blade and closes the distance with the tree.
She incants several arcane words and orange flames lick up the blade of her cutlass briefly.
She then misses her attack, wasting her spell.
Vladimir rushes in, blade in hand, ready to strike at the plant creature.
(flank, haste, vs. FF AC)
(challenge, precise strike)
At Mal's slap on the flank, Skokan charges in, going left when Vlad goes right, to harry and harass the deadly tree from behind.
As the scythe tree makes a slight rotation, several branches swoop and curl down and inward to slash at the three attackers around it.
A quartet of little fire elementals appear as Garborn finishes his spell.
They immediately speed towards the scythe tree, seeking to surround it and attack from the rear.
(plus burn)
(plus burn)
(plus burn)
(plus burn)
Garborn then immediately begins to cast the very same spell.
The scythe tree swipes madly at the fiery creatures.. their flaming strikes cause the rear of the tree to catch.
The wicked tree beast roars a bellow so loud and rumbling you can feel it in your bones.
Marisol misses .
Nico raises his crossbow as he steps forward through the trees to get a clear shot. He briefly takes aim at the whirling mass of branches and releases his bolt.
If Garborn wasn't so focused on casting a spell, he would have whooped in glee as all four of his elemental makes it through the tree's flailing branches.
Vladimir staggers from the scythe tree's slash. Gathering his resolve, he strikes again with magical speed.
(flank, haste)
(challenge, precise strike, panache)
(flank, haste)
(challenge, precise strike)