"Think tree friend, vengeance feel empty yes? Many die, but not all cutters no? Some have mates too, suffer now, like you.
Have children too maybe...err...saplings you call?
And you, suffering Bark Blight, maybe GIVEN too you, to confuse mind, no?
Ssjarlith maybe no friend, and if allowed to unchallenged, war might come.
Want to prevent suffering! Want to stop war, killing and pain.
Think tree friend, Garborn's word make sense?"
The treant frowns. "Ssjarlith's tribe is weak, suffering disease. Why would she inflict bark blight on a friend, an ally?"
Vladimir continues to standby, listening to the conversation between the treant and Garborn, deferring to the druid's expertise on such matters.
"Is she friend, or is she using friend? If tribe so weak, why make war? But if backed by mighty tree friend, not so weak, no?
If weak, if sick, if caring about tribe, why not rest, try to heal, why fight?
Make no sense to Garborn, make sense to tree friend?"
Marisol's lips scrunch a bit as she tries to puzzle out what could actually be happening, based solely on the varying words of different unreliable narrators, but she knows better than to interrupt in the middle of the discussion
The treant shakes its head. "The tribe doesn't fight, they are too sick. Who told you they're making war? Only Ssjarlith and S'kar leave the caves. The others barely come out to the river for fish to feed themselves."
Garborn frowns, this was an unexpected turn of events.
Before speaking, Garborn considered, weighing the information he had and what it could all mean.
"Garborn think maybe been lied to, other lizards warned of Ssjarlith, called her witch, said she almost destroyed tribe.
Garborn wonder if maybe they hope we kill her...
Listen tree friend, Garborn want to speak to Ssjarlith, find out who is speaking truth.
Garborn swear, on bond as druid, will not attack Ssjarlith except to defend own life and life of friends.
Deal?"
The treant shakes its head. "I will not stop you, tree friend, but Ssjarlith is mad. Consumed with anger and sickness. These last folk are the last of her tribe, her most devout; others left as she failed them. You may pass, but do not expect her to talk to you."
It groans again and starts to shamble off. "I will go find a more peaceful place to rest."
"Sleep well, tree friend."
Garborn turns to the others, frowning slightly, an odd look on the normally jovial druids face.
"Strange tidings, tribe not a threat, treant says all tribe except Ssjarith and S'kar very sick, unable to go anywhere.
Also say Ssjarith mad, angry and sick, not likely to want to talk.
Must try, but...
Sad to say, Garborn think battle maybe not possible to avoid.
What say others?"
"Do you think you might be able to cure a sickness by magic? If it's a mundane malady and not a curse, I mean?" asks Marisol.
"Not impossible, Druidic magic not as focused on healing as clerical, but we do have spells for curing diseases.
And Garborn can pray for it after rest.
Must somehow convince Ssjarith to be cured of course. Also, whole tribe, could take long time.
Garborn not mind though."
With the treant gone, the group faces nothing more than the dark entrance to a cave into the marshy hills. A pair of skull fetishes are impaled on stakes on the northern bank to ward off intruders but they do nothing to impede the adventurers.
The narrow passageway is filled with a dark, rapidly flowing stream leading into the hill. A small muddy beach juts from the west wall while weeds and rushes grow thickly elsewhere. Beyond, the stream flows on into the darkness.
"Well done, Garborn." Vladimir says, patting the large man on the shoulder.
Taking note of the darkness, Vladimir casts a light spell on his buckler and begins moving toward the entrance to the cave.
Garborn chuckles a little and claps Vladimir on his shoulder in return.
"Garborn not have lords way with words, should listen closely and learn how to have silver tongue like him!"
Garborn and Vlad lead the way into the hillside. Vlad's buckler is the only illumination as the light from outside begins to fade behind them. The rapidly flowing stream pulls at the group's legs as they wind their way through the narrow passageway.
The stream quickly deepens even as the water slows, becoming a placid pool about neck deep that takes up most of this chamber.
Inside, a small, muddy beach takes up the western wall while weeds and rushes grow thickly elsewhere. The thick mud of the beach shows the impressions of many lizardfolk feet.
The stream flows east into darkness, past eight skull fetishes mounted on poles sunk into the bottom of the pool.
Garborns mouth movies silently as he counts the tracks.
"Hmm, Garborn count...one dozen tracks. Well, one dozen different tacks.
One here, limp in left leg, one here, bigger stride, one here, unique foot..."
"A dozen you say?" Vladimir asks, confirming the number.
"We had best be careful then, I suppose." he adds, drawing his blade and moving up onto the muddy beach, looking around for any other signs of the cave's inhabitants or any other routes from the chamber other than the deepening stream, but sees little beyond the bright glare of his lighted shield.
"This fits with what we heard about them suffering from some kind of ailment," says Marisol. "The different tracks and strides, I mean."
"These lizardfolk might be in no condition to fight at all."
The group makes their way around the shallow edge of the cavern to the muddy beach, where Vladimir quickly spots a chest high wooden palisade protecting access to a cave to the west of the beach.
As they walk up out of the pool, everyone hears movement and conversation from the far side of the palisade. Four lizardmen are around a firepit dug into a niche in the far wall, scrambling to grab up weapons even as the outsiders watch.
Nico comes to a halt and holds up his hands, showing his empty palms. In Draconic, he says, "We only wish to talk."
He turns his head to Vlad, preparing to follow his lead.
That's one way of going about it, I suppose... Vladimir thinks to himself before nodding affirmatively toward Nico.
"Vesket is gone. There is no reason you can not live in peace at the village again. Why are you here?"
"Yes, we not seek conflict, only end hate. Come in peace!"
The lead lizardman- notably larger than the others- slows to a stop and walks closer to the humans. "Vesket dead? Then we can return to the tribe! Ssjarlith was right! Doom came for those who remained but now they will listen to us!"
"But why are you here, humans? Why does the tribe send softskinned messengers to welcome us home?"
"We were not sent by the tribe directly for that purpose. Those still there seem to have reason to fear Ssjarlith and by association S'kar." Taking note of the size of the lizardman before him, Vladimir adds, "I assume the latter of the two is you."
"Vesket was a blight on your people because of the 'spirit' with which he allied himself. Now the folk of the village seem to fear the return of SSjarlith. Is it true that she 'consumed' another of the tribe called Ussathra?" Vladimir asks, ready to grab his blade in a flash should negotiations turn for the worse.
The bigger lizardman puffs up a bit at being mistaken for S'kar. "No, S'kar is the great champion! He defeated the mother of all crocodiles! He has faced the beast in the lake and lived! S'kar is the greatest of us all! Vesket would have had no chance against the great S'kar except for Ussathra's trickery!"
"But when Ssjarlith challenged her to a battle of witchcraft and defeated the treacherous Ussathra, Vesket turned on her and cast her out! He said she was evil, that her warnings of a great doom were false! But you say she has been proven right! Doom did befall the tribe for not listening to Ssjarlith's wisdom!"
"Now we can return in glory!"
"Tribe deceived by corpselight, Will O' Wisp. We defeat corpselight and then Vesket. Tribe grateful, swore friendship.
Talk about alliance, but talk for later, tribe busy now, rebuilding."
It wasn't strictly true that there had been friendship sworn, but if these lizards were to rejoin the tribe, it wouldn't hurt if they thought highly of the situation from the start.
Besides, it wasn't STRICTLY untrue either now was it...
"Thank you for defeating Vesket! We will tell Ssjarlith and S'kar and return to the tribe! Thank you for letting us know!"
"Remember, tribe agree to peace with us, will Ssjarlith and S'kar honor deal?"
"Vesket was weak, Ussarlith was weak, Ssjarlith and S'kar are strong! Ssjarlith warned them of the coming doom! She is wise, wiser than any softskin fur-face like you. You come back after we've returned to the tribe and talk to her!"
"Vesket was weak?" Vladimir asks, clearly beginning to believe a peaceful resolution is nothing more than a pipedream. "Is that why Ssjarlith and S'kar are in this cave as opposed to the village?"
"Wiser than Garborn? Gyahahahahaha! Foolish talk! What is wiser than druid of green faith? Garborn defend nature, but...nature also defend Garborn."
Garborn grins, but it's a less than friendly grin now.
"If enemy of Garborn, enemy of nature. Every tree, a possible trap, ever bog suddenly deep and dangerous. Every animal, spy to tell Garborn all secrets."
Nico frowns as the conversation turns toward a confrontation. Freeing the tribe of one oppressor just to replace them with another is not what we want to be doing here.
Nico steps aside as Garborn speaks, giving him room to address the lizardfolk clearly. As he steps northwest, he eyes the passageway to the south which he assumes leads deeper in the complex to Ssjarlith and S'kar.
The bigger lizardfolk guard gives the lizard equivalent of a shrug. "Fighting them meant killing too many of the tribe. Kill the tribe to save the tribe? Makes no sense. Only those of us who believed in her followed here. And our faith has been proven right!"
It looks at Garborn. "Can you see the future, druid-with-a-muskrat-on-his-face? Ssjarlith said- told everyone!- that Vestet was leading them to doom! She is a powerful witch, a seer! You should listen to her, once we return to the tribe! Come back and have your words with the true ruler of the tribe once we have returned in glory!"
"Thank you for telling us this great news! We will return to the tribe and you can find Ssjarlith there!"
Garborn grins, but it's even less pleasant now.
"Kill tribe to save tribe not make sense? but, why you so sure you not have to do so now? Why you so sure they take you back? WE free them from Vesket, not you. Why you so sure they side with you over us? We've proven we can aid, you left.
Who they trust? Think hard now, ask question well."
It takes the lizardman a moment but eventually he seems to understand what Garborn is saying, and he seems surprised. "YOU are the doom of the tribe! You enslaved our brothers and sisters!? You will not do the same to us!" The big lizardman roars and raises his weapon. "Kill the enslavers!"
Garborn is more than a little taken aback by the very twisted reasoning on display here.
"Erm...Garborn said we FREED them...has...has lizardman been hit in head often? Pretty stupid..."
Glancing at the others, He chuckles a little.
"Not hit this one in head, must be like rock! Gyahahahahaha!"
Vladimir, sure that there was nothing to stop this fight, slashes at the large lizardman hoping that if the "leader" falls, the fight will quickly end.
Vlad skillfully stabs through the lead lizardman's makeshift armor and finds a soft spot in the warrior's thick skin. In return, the big guard roars in what sounds more like anger than pain and chops hard at the lord with its oversized sword.
The other one behind the waist-high palisade stabs its trident at Garborn, roaring along with its leader, while the ones behind loft spears over the heads of their companions.
Other than the huge leader, the other three seem sluggish in their actions, and Garborn and Vlad easily evade their clumsy thrusts and throws. The leader, though, swings hard and Vlad nearly gets his head taken off and only barely manages to parry the next wicked slice.