"It doesn't matter to me. Actually I prefer it. If you use them, please return and tell me of your experiences. If I can't have your blood you might as well give me SOME data."
Despite his skepticism, Peter doesn't detect any falsehood from the mandragora, and indeed his cursory exam of the plants on his own leads him to think it may very well be true.
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"Mr Majordomo seems right. We're gonna stay with these plants. Take this, Seiran", Peter throws one of the walnuts to the paladin, and stays with the other.
"And this too", the ranger gives him one of the watermelons, and stays with the other.
"I'll stay with a walnut, a watermelon and one of these cherries. Any opposition? No? Good", he tells to the others.
"If nobody want the other 'anabolic steroids', I can carry them", Peter suggests.
Nemrok confirms their effects based on their magical auras.
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Thank you Majodormo, for these informations. I'm also intrigued by the effect of these fruits on our metabolism and I will be more than happy to share what I learn with you.
Says Nemrok to the plant.
He turns to J. and adds As you can see adventure is not always far away and discovery could be done even in strange lands or places.
But knowledge is the key to now what is good of what is not.
J. nods slowly at Nemrok, earnestly taking in the half-orc's words of wisdom.
You find nothing else there.
The door to the north leads down a hallfway of some distance to another greenhouse. The door there reads “Plants of Eastern Garund: Please proceed with caution, as some are poisonous”.
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Renn shakes his hand, declining the offer of any of the items grown here.
"No, thanks. This outfit is brand new, and well, cherries are known to stain..."
He glances to J, wondering how much effort it would take to get her out...
She's eighteen! No -- she's twenty-eight!
Rather, how much effort it would take to get a cherry stain out of her uniform.
He gestures to the sign.
"Keep your eyes open. My experience, and well... sense of self preservation tells me that the mandragora won't be the last plant that wants our blood that we meet today."
Helane follows her martial friends through the door.
Unlike the dead and warped growth in most of the Arboretum, the plants growing in this greenhouse seem to be relatively young and healthy. Several raised beds of earth host strange looking plants with long, sinuous vines, and a small, gently flowing fountain with a red lion statue at its center sits near the middle of the chamber. Against the wall stands a worktable and chair covered in gardening tools.
A creature somewhere in the mess yells out, "Stay back! I know you're Quantium gardeners, and I'm not coming back!"
A strange plant-looking creature emerges.
This creature is a ghoran, a sentient plant creature. They are rare in the extreme and typically do not concern themselves with the lives of more common races.
She is not in her right mind. Something is affecting her.
Her suffering might be due to the corrupting rain within the Arboretum.
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Peter was preparing to shoot his arrows at the 'lady plant', when he realizes that there is something wrong with her.
"Buddies, it seems like something is affecting her mind, possibly due to the corrupting rain within the Arboretum", he whispers to the Pathfinders.
"I don't want to shoot her", he lowers his bow, "deal with her, please", the ranger asks to the others.
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My Lady, we are not here to harm you nor trying anything to make you go back to Qantium. We are only here to find some old secrets buried here.
As my friend Seiran says we are Pathfinder, seeker of Knowledge, not Gardener.
We hope that you let us safe passage as the guardian of this place and let us search for what we are looking for
The paladin's words, coupled with Nemrok's back up are enough to get the creature to visibly relax. She lowers a head a bit out of what looks like exhaustion. "I'm so relieved. Welcome and enter. What are you doing here?"
The phantom of Grishan perks up. "It's here! I can tell. It's somethign to do with the lion statue!"
"I escaped experimentation in Quantium, I was worried that my past caught up to me. I have tried to sew a new life here. It has been... difficult. There's something ...wrong here."
Meanwhile Peter, J, and Grishan check out the statue. Carefully tipping over the Red Lion statue on the fountain reveals that it is hollow. Inside is a small package wrapped in many layers of wax paper.
This information could be quite damaging in the right hands, but also quite lucrative for anyone trying to sell it.
Grishan's eyes widen as he examines it. He struggles to believe what he reads, but recognizes his own faded handwriting. "I... I can't believe it.... I.... I need to talk to my family. Let us help J first, but.... I...." His voice trails off.
The ghoran interrupts quietly, "Please, do not tell anyone that I am here."
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Looking at the documents, Nemrok eyes flash with interest. These documents are quite... precious in the right hands. I'm sure the Society or some informations broker I know could be very interested in it.
He turns to the creature.
Don't worry, we are known to be quite silent about case as yours my lady.
If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask the Society for help. After all, the Pathfinder Society has already plenty of strange and different agents in it.
Just look at the party here ! 2 half humans, one ghost working togother !
Quite impressive right ?
She says to J.
The Society is quite open about different races. The only thing to understand is the three words who define the Society : Explore, Cooperate and Report.
J looks at Nemrok, but her mind is elsewhere, "My family is in these notes? Grishan, why would your brother do this to you?"
Grishan doesn't seem to have a good answer, "I don't know, but I want to find out."
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"Ambition is the boon and bane of all noble houses, children." Helane looms at the notes briefly, committing their contents to memory, taking Nemroks word that the info is as valuable as he says.
"There seems to be much more going on here than we first thought, but you're right Grisham we should stay on task. Where to now?"
Grishan looks down, and never really looks up as he answers Renn's question, "Colson. His name is Colson Maldris."
J. speaks up, "I want to help Grishan, I do, but I need to exorcise my demons first before I'm in a place to help him. The Drownyard. It's right around the corner from the Arboretum Arcanis. Let's get this overwith."
The walk takes less than 5 minutes, and in that time both J and Grishan are both quiet. She opens the iron gate with the key and swings them wide with an ear-piercing grating noise.
The grounds of the old Tri-Towers Yard have been cleaned up in the last several years, and several old ruined school buildings that stood too close to the cliff’s edge were demolished. All of the gnarled old trees were removed and new flowering bushes and trees have been planted in their place. Despite these efforts, the few ruined classrooms that remain look sad and forgotten. Just inside the gate sits a small, locked storage shed marked with the Pathfinder’s Glyph of the Open Road.
J looks at the party expectantly, almost seeking encouragement to continue on.
J looks up, confidence and courage returning slowly to her. J. falls silent and resolute as she steps on the grounds of her old school, as she has not been here since she was rescued seven years earlier. She asks you to remain quiet just for a moment while remembering the children and adults who died there. Finally, she turns and makes contact with each of you. "Thank you. You have no idea how heroic and important your mission was. It's far more than just me. Far more."
"I can sense something in that classroom yonder... I think it has something to teach me, something I need to learn. Let's get your supplies and then head there."
The trip to the shed is, quite literally, haunting. Images of children run by. Sometimes they even turn to look at you. One even touches Renn and whispers, "Tag, you're it." Songs and rhymes flit on the air.
You're not surprised to see a sign on the door. “Entry to above ground structure in the ‘Yard is strongly discouraged. It contains an dangerous supernatural force. Items in the yellow box are for emergencies only. -V-C Dreng”.
Opening the box reveals a strange pair of contraptions. Each consists of a glass vial held within stylized cold-iron casings etched with strange runes, necromantic designs, and other eldritch markings. Within the vials roll small wisps of white vapor, churning as if caught in a miniature vortex of air.
There are instructions within the box, explaining how to use it.
J looks at everyone, "Shall we?"
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Renn shifts, working to hide the anxiety he feels.
"I.. uh, haunts hmmm?"
He twirls his wand again between his fingers like a dockside street performer.
"Well, I have this... it's not just for knitting up scratches, but can bust a haunt in a pinch. Probably best one of you takes the magic box."
Renn nods to the conjurers, wondering which is most likely to grab it.
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"May I suggest that the haunt siphons be handed to the members of this party with the quickest reactions? I would prefer that the device neutralizes any haunt BEFORE it gets to react. I believe that would be Helana and Peter. If you have any spells to boost your speed, I believe it would be appropriate to use it at this time."
"Alternatively, I could just send a conjured dog in there and let it take the brunt of the haunts affections. Do you think that would work? Is it worth a try?"
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"May I suggest that the haunt siphons be handed to the members of this party with the quickest reactions? I would prefer that the device neutralizes any haunt BEFORE it gets to react. I believe that would be Helana and Peter. If you have any spells to boost your speed, I believe it would be appropriate to use it at this time."
"Ok, I'll stay with one of these", Peter nods to the dwarf.
Grishan looks at Seiran... but says nothing.
J turns and looks eager. Are we ready for this?
With much anticipation and trepidation, you make your way to the source of J's pull...
It appears since your mission here, there has been some activity. There are memorials here and there, and like many such gestures, the size of the memorial relates to the wealth of the family.
Several children’s names are written next to small memorials with their portraits. The names include Badru Ahnkamen, Grishan Maldris, Cassiel Marlinchen, Stilonius Morilla, Anaretta Nimz, and Jaran Shamyyid.
The small classroom is all that remains of a once great school. School benches and chairs are scattered about in a haphazard fashion and a chalkboard hangs crooked from a single nail on the western wall. The sound of the ocean beating against the cliffs in the distance is the only thing that breaks the silence.
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You're welcome J. says Nemrok to the young women after the minute of silence.
Having nothing against the haunt, Nemrok stay outside de classroom.
I have nothing in my spellbook to help you against the haunt. I will stay out to not be a burden if something goes wrong.
Noting the memorials dedicated to the past children, Nemrok decide to get make a quick prayer to their soul, hoping they go back to Pharasma soon.