Storn groans loudly from the ground, staring up distantly to the bottom of the lily pads. After a moment Dieter comes crashing down beside him.
"Owww... that wasn't so bad."
He shouts up at the lily pads.
Storn slowly gets to his feet before checking over Dieter. He mutters a prayer to offer some healing. While down there, he looks over the area.
He shouts up at the lily pads."WE'RE ALIVE! SEE IF YOU CAN SEND DOWN A ROPE!"
Storn shouted up to all that he was alive, and if you could send down a rope.
Dieter sat up, rubbing his back and thanking Storn for the healing magics. It was hard to talk with the smell of compost hanging thickly in the air. The cloud of flies surrounded both men, pouring into open mouths, alighting on blinking eyes, and buzzing in ear canals.
"GAH! Gettoffme!" shouts Storn as he starts wildly swatting at the flies. Unfortunately, the big, hirsute man proves to provide perfect purchase for the tiny bugs, and he's soon completely overwhelmed, slapping wildly and unable to do much else.
"What are you doing down there? Are you fighting again?" Molly calls out. "Do you need help?"
Storn's distant voice floats up the pit.
"bugsbugsbusgsbugsbugsbugsbugsbugsbugsbugs"
"Hurry up with that rope!"
Sander's rope dropped into the chamber to dangle uselessly a good forty or fifty feet above the floor of the pit where Storn and Dieter were. The pair looked up in frustration at the loose end.
"Here, add mine," Molly offers, handing Quill a 50-ft. coil of silk rope.
Storn runs around slapping himself wildly as flies crawl into places he needs three mirrors to see.
With the added length of rope, Storn and Dieter are finally able to get a hand on it. But, the climb is long and arduous, and Dieter, at least, is still in his heavy plate armor.
Dieter's bell has been thoroughly rung, so to speak. He is somewhat aware of talking around him and being healed by Storn. He slurs setting meant to be gratitude and waits for his vision to clear and the buzzing in his ears to stop.
His vision eventually clears, but the buzzing remains. "Storn, what happened? Wha-... Oh. Right. We fell." He stands gingerly, rubbing a very sore shoulder. "Rope. Thank Gorum. Let's get back up there."
Taking the end of the rope, Dieter makes a quick series of loops and pulls the rope tight into a knot. "We don't have enough slack for anything beside a simple bowline. Loop it over you head and arms like a shirt and let it rest in your armpits. They will be able to pull you up, and if you fall it will halt you. Not pleasantly so, but we don't have enough slack for a triple Birmingham bowline."
Storn mutely follows DIeter's directions, and grabs the rope before trying to scramble up.
Storn takes his sweet time, and climbs his way out. The big man is a wreck from the infestation of flies all over his body. Although he'd normally look like a wooly mammoth outside of his armour, the horrific burns from his fight with the witch follow by magical healing has him looking curiously pink and soft everywhere. He collapses in front of the group.
"I've had better days."
With Storn safely to the top, all that was left was for Dieter to climb out as well. Well, that and someone had to go back to the other side for Storn's gear.
"You boys ought to lose some weight," Molly blithely tells the insect-besieged warriors as soon as they make their way up to where everyone else is -- and then she calmly starts hopping from lily-pad to lily-pad, making her way back to where Storn's gear lies.
Picking up some of the Warpriest's gear, Molly starts making her way back with just as much contemptuous ease.
"It'd save us all a lot of time, y'know."
It took Molly three trips to bring everything back over safely, given that she had no desire to join Dieter in the compost pit. On her second trip, she heard a buzzing sound, above and beyond the ambient drone in the chamber, and felt a brush of wind past her left ear.
Sander looks around for whatever Molly saw or felt.
Storn does what he can to help Dieter up while Molly hauls his gear over.
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Quill smiles as first Storn, then Dieter return to the party. He grimaces a bit at seeing the flies (let alone Dieter's unarmored body), but tries to keep his focus on potential dangers and threats.
He keeps his bow ready and covering Molly as she recovers the gear. He realizes, with some confusion, that he's not entirely sure what Dieter was thinking in wanting to go last, nor in leaving his armor on the other side. Quill chalks it up to his imprisonment and torture at the hands of that very very strong hag.
Perception - buzzing danger?
When Deiter is up and re-armored, Quill is ready to move on.
While Dieter was struggling to follow Storn up the rope, still clad in his armor, the others worked together to belay the line and help. It was lucky they did, as Dieter's grip ont eh rope slipped when he was about twenty feet from the top, and he dangled in midair, arms and legs flailing, as the others continued to haul him upwards.
Everyone was on the lookout for whatever made the buzzing sound that Molly had heard, but there was no sign of any attacker.
The stairs leading down from this platform seemed to go on for ages, turning left about halfway down, and ending on a long corridor. The hallway looked clear, but Mariana helped scout it for traps, feeling fairly confident that there were none. A set of doors at the far end of the hallway opened to the south.
"Yeah. I wonder if there was something invisible. I was sure there would be some sort of giant bugs that we had to slay or something, but ... I guess not," the halfling replies, relieved.
Once the door is ruled safe, Sander will wait for someone else to open it and go through.
"Could be another faerie. Some have bug-wings and magic to shroud themselves from normal sight."
Storn clanks along in the front with Dieter asn Mariana zips back and forth checking for traps. Aggrimosh clanks against the kind of rusty spikes on his leg. His massive beard and wild dreadlocks would normally stick out of his helmet, but having been partially burned off, he instead is a faceless behemoth of metal beneath the armour.
"Druids and fey never play fair," he complains, his lilting accent echoing from below the helmet. "It is right and good for a Gorumite to clad himself in metal and charge out over some barren wasteland to break faces. Weird buzzing sounds that come from nothing, vines, tricks, water, floating lily pads, and insects just ruin everything."
Once the doors have been checked, Storn kicks them open, hoping for something to smash.
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"Perhaps that is why the faith of Gorum is not popular in the Shackles and Sodden Lands... Our missionaries keep drowning."
Dieter takes position beside Storn and readies his sword.
In true Storn fashion, the big man kicked the doors down, preparing to deliver a hammer blow to face of anything that dared attack them. In this case, it was a waft of the perfumes of hundreds of blooming flowers. Ahead of you was a small wooden balcony overlooking the same greenhouse that you passed over before. A short flight of steps led to the floor level of the greenhouse, while above you can see the great bridge that you crossed initially.
All manner of exotic flora fills the massive conservatory. A thick mist floats just above the ground, carpeting the area in a moist fog. Water dripped from the bridge overhead, falling like gentle rain to the greenhouse floor. A constant symphony of birdsong filled the air as the small, brightly colored creatures flitted from plant to plant.
Across the way is another balcony similar to the one right in front of you, with a pair of doors similar to the ones Storn just openend.
"Oh, this is quite nice," Sander says happily. "I think that's vtabay! They're similar to this horrible carnivorous flower, but don't eat people at all! I wish we could just stay here ... but I guess we have things we have to do.
"I guess we're going to have to jump again?"
"Hold up," Molly says. "Give me a moment to look at this stuff. We don't want to walk into an actual patch of carnivorous plants or a field of poison flowers. And uh, we don't need to jump. There are stairs."
Having said her piece, the Witch looks at the profusion of plants and tries to pick out any dangerous species that might be there.
The plants are packed so densely, that it is difficult to tell, but the druids that originally kept this greenhouse obviously did not cultivate some of the more dangerous species of flora. Molly saw over a hundred types of plants represented, and even a few that she did not know. But, in the immediate area at least, there was nothing obviously dangerous.
"Arright, boys," Molly says. "Slow and steady. I'll take point on this one. Be ready to charge in if I squeak."
The Witch takes out one of her bayonets and slots it into place on her crossbow with a calm, businesslike efficiency. Next, she chants a single Word of Power and goes down the stairs and into the garden.
Dieter stays right behind Molly, keeping his sword at the ready in case her witch-sight spots any danger. "I hope no one has any allergies..."
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Storn grumbles as he looks over the beautiful celebration of nature.
"Hrmph. This is just a squirrel-infested rust machine." Storn clanks along behind Molly, keeping a careful look out.
"Metal is useful, but if you rely on it too much it makes you weak," Molly says, absent-mindedly. "Real power is in the hand that wields metal and the mind that conceives of its use and shaping. In and of itself, metal is just a tool. Nature can dissolve it into nonsense and nothingness soon enough, where a strong mind and a disciplined body thrive in the viridian embrace."
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Qull follows the group down, still guarding the back. He moves to his left as he goes down (keep the wall to his back). His bow is still knocked with arrow and his eyes are alert for danger.
Perception
"Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe the hag never came down this way..." Quill says steadily. "I bet this is where the Druids used to walk and talk in peace. I bet they used to find happiness and joy here...in this garden. I should hope we experience the same."
"You guys are ruining the garden!" Sander complains.
He looks around, enjoying the scenery. Maybe there'll be a tomato here -- and some garlic and basil! -- which he could turn into a nice sauce that he wouldn't share with Storn.
"Metal is useful, but if you rely on it too much it makes you weak," Molly says, absent-mindedly. "Real power is in the hand that wields metal and the mind that conceives of its use and shaping. In and of itself, metal is just a tool. Nature can dissolve it into nonsense and nothingness soon enough, where a strong mind and a disciplined body thrive in the viridian embrace."
Dieter raises an eyebrow. "That sounds almost like the Riddle of Steel. Are you familiar with the teachings of the Lord in Iron?"
Storn grumbles.
"Gorum cares not for how battle is waged, just that it is waged. Magic, siege, even archery - all of those have their place. But iron is the constant. Where there is war, there is iron. Pure battle is face to face, clad in iron, iron in hand. That is why it is holy. We are all strong in our own ways here and there is virtue in that. But as a priest of Gorum I wear iron, because that is what priests of Gorum do."
He looks around the greenhouse.
"And since I wear and use iron, swamps and greenhouses aren't where I prefer to spend my time."
And if I had a little salt, and cracked black pepper. Maybe some onion and grated carrot, a little thyme...
Dieter raises an eyebrow. "That sounds almost like the Riddle of Steel. Are you familiar with the teachings of the Lord in Iron?"
"Nah, I follow Sivanah, lady of the seven veils, mistress of illusions, reflections and shadows," Molly replies. "Which means I know the value of hidden truths."
"Gorum cares not for how battle is waged, just that it is waged. But iron is the constant. Where there is war, there is iron. Pure battle is face to face, clad in iron, iron in hand. That is why it is holy. We are all strong in our own ways here and there is virtue in that. But as a priest of Gorum I wear iron, because that is what priests of Gorum do. And since I wear and use iron, swamps and greenhouses aren't where I prefer to spend my time."
"Iron is a bit of a passed station," Molly says, without any malice. "You should upgrade to steel, and tend it religiously. Less chance of rust. Once you get enough money, go for mithril. All the power, no chance of rust, and you'll be much lighter on your feet -- not to mention smell better. Iron armour makes you smell like a rusty cooking pot even at the best of times."