Mairen narrows her eyes as the trees begin to animate, and then unshoulders her bow and nocks her first arrow.
"Watch us have to fight every part of this glade before it's done with us," she says, sighting down her arrow, and then firing at the westernmost tree.
"Are you sure about the symbols? How do you know about these things?
"Well it's written right on the stones, don't you--ah." Anthuria realizes that the messages on the stones are written in a strange language, yet she can make them out, plain as day.
Am I going mad?
"Oh, I suppose I picked up a few words in my readings at the library," she lies.
----
When the trees animate and begin to advance, she cries out, bringing her hand to to her face. It is then she notices that she is bleeding . The palm of her hand was gashed by a rose thorn as she entered the garden. A tiny river of ruby blood runs down her wrist.
She clenches her first, her eyes narrowing at their aggressors.
She turns her attention to the roses across the field, near where the northernmost tree has broken free.
Jetta lifts her foot off the fallen sprite, moving ahead of Balthus as the plantlife in the glade suddenly springs to life. She raises her shield and prepares to chop at a tree as one lumbers towards her.
"Amund, take the other side!" she yells. "Everyone, fall back to the passageway! We'll form a chokepoint there!"
[b]Will do.[/ooc] At Jetta's command Amund moves to watch the other side and brace for attacking the mobile tree. Dropping his longspear as he moves and pulling the Guisarme out.
Jetta recoils at being touched, shooting a venomous glance at the priest over her shoulder.
"Hey, I can handle myself!" she snaps. "Take care of the others!"
Left tree 23/52 | Middle tree 52/52 | Right tree 45/52
Balthus quickly nocks a shaft and lets fly, but his arrow sails harmlessly through the tree's branches. Mairen joins him in pulling out a bow, but in her haste, she nearly fumbles her first arrow. Recovering quickly, she pulls out another and sends it off. This one hits solidly, embedding itself in the tree's trunk and quivering with the energy, though it still seems to do the tree little harm.
Jetta and Amund brace themselves for the trees' approach, while Perry attempts to lend his aid to Jetta, though she is reluctant to accept it. And with Anthuria's furious command, the bushes themselves begin to work against their elders the trees, lashing out with vine and branch over the entire northern half of the glade.
The trees are relentless, however; a few vines make little difference to them in their task. Though the trees to the left and straight ahead are impeded, the one to the right seems unaffected by the inconvenience, and all move forward to engage. The trees flanking to left and right close the distance quickly, each lashing out at its closest target, while the farthest tree simply spends several seconds fighting against the vines crawling across the glade.
To the left, the tree's branches bounce off of Jetta's heavy Hellknight armor, and she returns the gesture with an attack of her own, her heavy chop severing several branches and vines. To the right, Amund doesn't fare as well; the tree's limbs connect solidly with his chest, and though his guisarme makes contact, it doesn't have the force it usually carries. More worrisome, the vines hanging from its limbs wrap around Amund, holding him firmly and threatening to squeeze.
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Percival Arizian | hp 44/44; AC 16/9T/16FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
"Hey, I can handle myself! Take care of the others!"
The priest frowned, and said back, "Now is not the time to be choking on pride!", before noticing the walking tree slam and grab hold of Amund.
"Release him, foul creation, and go back to the nameless pit from which you formed!"Immediate action: Cast Liberating Command on Amund. Can make an escape artist check to free from grapple with +12 to the check.
Standard: Touch of Cure Light Wounds on Amund once he is freed.
Anthuria cries out, discouraged, as the trees effortlessly yank up the rose vines and advance on the party.
"No," she screams as the eastern tree takes hold of Amund. She runs, panicked, toward the scene.
The vines are no good. We need something bigger, stronger.
What we need is a mighty oak.
An idea blossoms.
She runs to Mairen, clasping her arm. "This might feel a little strange, but don't worry I've, ah, done this before," she says, convincing no one.
Cast Enlarge Person on Mairen.
Amund continues to struggle futilely.
Mairen's eyes widen as she suddenly grows to over ten feet in height, her weight increasing to almost 1,600 pounds. Her sabatons sink into the rich earth, and she suddenly smiles, a vicious, pleased grin as she hefts her longsword which is now almost ten feet long.
Mairen hefts her blade with both hands, and swings at the closest tree, seeking to hew her blade right through its trunk.
Buckling under the branch that slams into her, Jetta grinds her teeth and hacks once again into the side of the tree. This time, her strike glances harmlessly off its bark.
With his battleaxe held high, Balthus advanced on the walking tree.
He swung an overhand chop with both hands meant to cleave tree trunks.
Not that he needed any encouragement, the ranger urged his hound along. Slasher gripped a low hanging branch and tried tearing it to pieces.
Bathed in the light from Perry's spell, Amund manages to twist free of the tree's grasp, and the exhilaration of escape lends strength to his swings. His guisarme bites deep into the tree's base with two strong blows, while Mairen's new vantage point lets her lop off much of its top in a single powerful stroke. Between their onslaught, the forces animating the branches cease, and it shudders to a stop.
In stark contrast to her last swing, Jetta's next attack bounces harmlessly off the tree's bark. For a fearful moment, it looks as if Balthus's swing is about to do the same, but at the last instant, he feels a strange surge of energy dart through his arm, and his axe closes impossibly quickly on the tree's trunk, scoring the blow. Slasher, with the same last-instant burst of speed, closes his jaws around the tree's branch, giving it a powerful shake.
The tree to the west lashes out, taking a swing each at Balthus and Jetta. More rose vines have snaked up the trunk under Anthuria's command, and they attempt to drag the tree down into submission, but the implacable attack continues regardless. Neither is pulled into the tree's grasp as Amund was, but both are hit solidly by the branch's swings, and you hear the sickening crunch of metal as Jetta's armor bends and crumples under the powerful blow.
Still entangled in the vines, the center tree marches inexorably forward, stepping over the opening of the staircase spiraling downward into the earth. Finally, it approaches Mairen, Amund, Perry, and Anthuria, squaring itself up for a confrontation.
Jetta lets out a muffled hiss, biting down on a pained yelp that tries to escape her lips. Instead, she channels her pain into a ferocious retaliatory attack...
With the animated tree in front of him falling down. The ranger turned his attention elsewhere. But it was crowded.
He was about to try and circle around the tree when he noticed the shifting plants.
He filled his hand with fur as he grabbed Slasher by the back of his neck and his arm was almost pulled out of his socket until the dog realized what was going on.
The ranger yelled at Anthuria, "Girl, are those writhing plants your doing? Get rid of them if you can."
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Percival Arizian | hp 44/44; AC 16/9T/16FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
The priest took a short step backward, and raised his holy symbol in response to the onslaught.
"Here's hoping you truly break and not die," he muttered, before triggering a burst of magical energy. Above him, a faint specter of a key shone in gold, as the energy surged forward, binding and stitching wounds in a circular, clockwork pattern.
Standard: Channel Positive Energy to heal everyone in a 30-foot radius, 3d6 hit points.
Move: Nothing
Swift: Also nothing.
Mairen's vantage allows her to take one great step and use that momentum to bring her blade hissing around again, a foot or two over Amund's head, to slice it deep into the tree's trunk.
Anthuria watches, mildly thrilled, as the brawlers among them bravely defend against the villainous trees.
"Excellent work!" she cries, watching Balthus and Jetta chop one of them to splinters.
As the northernmost tree fights through the rose vines, she bites her lip, focusing her energy on its twisting limbs.
Sighing in relief as the tree is hacked apart and enjoying the reprieve from the sun in Mairen's Amund resumes his stance for the next tree rushing towards the group. As the tree gets closer Amund steps back to keep himself in range to strike.
Feeling the air move from the above attack one he is sure he is not needing to dodge a wide swing from Mairen he then slices with his Guisarme finally having a chance to utilize Athuria's magical boost.
Jetta's fierce retaliatory swipe bites deep into the tree's trunk; the forces animating it come to a halt, and the riotous limbs go still. Perry's ethereal clockworks spin past the party, knitting together his allies' wounds with Abadar's blessing. And between the combined efforts of Amund, Anthuria, and a shattering blow from Mairen, the newly arrived tree is reduced to splinters in the blink of an eye. The party is left breathless from exertion and surprise, knotted together in the glade's entrance. The standing stones bear silent witness and the staircase spirals down from the mound's center; the final surviving fey lies still in the entry pathway.
Watching the tree ripped apart and seeing that was the last of them Amund tries to refocus himself. Defiantly no longer in the civilized lands anymore. I just helped kill a freaking tree. And we all worked rather well together. If Balthus is quiet things go so much more smoothly.
Shacking his head he turns back at Lord Arizian words, Thank you Lord Arizian but all I have left are a few very minor scratches. Ursa come. Once the puppy is back at Amunds side he addresses the others. Anthuria are you still willing to speak with the fey laying over there?
Shifting his gaze towards the descending stairs, There is also that to deal with. We have quite a few horses and they will not be able to go down with us but leaving them here could be very dangerous. If a group of Fey are out and return the horse might be slain.
Still infused with speed, the ranger looked no worse for the wear. He turned to Perry, "I'm fine. I'm assuming that burst of healing power came from you. Thank you."
Shifting his gaze towards the descending stairs, There is also that to deal with. We have quite a few horses and they will not be able to go down with us but leaving them here could be very dangerous. If a group of Fey are out and return the horse might be slain.
The ranger was still full of pent up anger; being hit by a tree was no fun. "Aye, thanks for stating the obvious." Suddenly realizing that he had overstepped good manners, he quickly looked away.
He went to pet Slasher but the dog had already run off towards Anthuria. "The horses get tied down until we return. No other choice."
Looking at the cairns and stair, "We have to go down there. The sooner the better."
Looking at the long weapons, he asked, "Are you all going to be to manage combat in close quarters?"
The adrenaline pumping through Anthurias veins begins to subside. She realizes she has been clinching her fists. Blood still coats her palm and forearm but, at Lord Arizian's command, the cut seems to have healed completely.
The whispering has subsided and her mind has centered. For the moment, she feels quite normal.
In fact, I feel exhilarated.
Slasher's wet tongue on her hand redirects her attention. She smiles and bends down to pet him, until Amund's question reminds her of their captive.
"The fey! Of course we should speak to them. There is clearly more to this story than a simple ambush. I want to know more about these ruins."
How they will go about speaking to the fey is only a secondary consideration. Anthuria has become conversational in the tongue of elves and gnomes through her own studies and careful attention to foreign visitors to the college. Perhaps they speak gnome.
"Let's wake them up."
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The lord-priest nodded at his companions, whispering a prayer.
"The fey! Of course we should speak to them. There is clearly more to this story than a simple ambush. I want to know more about these ruins.
Let's wake them up."
"That can be arranged," he said, towering over the fallen creature. He turned to the young sorceress, and seemed about to say something. "Make sure he doesn't escape. I was never well in hide-and-seek."
Mairen moves to stand over the stairwell to guard it.
"The fey! Of course we should speak to them. There is clearly more to this story than a simple ambush. I want to know more about these ruins."
"That can be arranged," he said, towering over the fallen creature. He turned to the young sorceress, and seemed about to say something. "Make sure he doesn't escape. I was never well in hide-and-seek."
Jetta sighs and shakes her head. The dent in her armor is still clearly visible, but the extent of her injuries undearneath the metal carapace is hard to judge. The Hellknight does not complain. She moves to the fallen sprite, putting her boot back down on its chest to pin it down. Stifling the urge to crush the creature under her heel like she would a cockroach, she instead turns to Anthuria. She looks the sorceress straight in the eye, her own only a slight glimmer behind the helm's faceplate.
"Talk to it if you must," she says. "But be quick, and do not trust in anything it tells you."
Glaring at Balthus, Attually I was asking for advice from those more familiar with this kind of situation. And yes I can handle close combat. With a sneer he turns to the others. I am going to go tether the horses. Without waiting for a reply he walks back down the path to deal with the horses.
Moving towards Jetta's black stallion he holds out his hand to let the beast sniff him and slowly leads the stallion to be tethered. Repeating the same process with the other mounts silently until all that is left is Balthus's mount and Pretty Girl.
As he leads Balthus's mount to be tethered he rubs the horses nose, We will need to be getting you away from Balthus soon or that mellow manner you have will be replaced by anger like his mutt. He will not tether Pretty Girl to anything and instead leave her to move and command her to guard the other horses. Amund makes sure to leave the knots so that if the horses were to try to pull away they could and with any luck return to the Fort on their own.
With Jetta's heavy boot firmly pinning the fey creature to the ground, Perry unleashes another burst of healing energy, and his allies feel the relief as their wounds are knitted together. The fey stirs, opens his eyes - and begins screeching out words in a strange language, writhing furiously.
ඔබ කරන්නේ මොනවද හිතන්නේ ?! ඔබ ඔබේ බිහිසුනු ලෙස අත් ස්පර්ශ කර අන් සියල්ල විනාශ කර ඇත ලෙස ඔබ රජුගේ වවා ඒවා විනාශ නැහැ!
He struggles under Jetta's foot, trying to break free and glancing toward the staircase spiraling into the earth. But try as he might, Jetta's hold is too firm, and soon he gives up squirming and begins beating at her foot in rage, his swings doing little and less against the heavy plate ensconcing it.
"දැන්, රහසිගත, ඔබ සන්සුන්! අපි නිසැකවම ඔබ හෝ වෙන ඕනෑම දෙයක් විනාශ කිරීමට මෙතන නැත. ඔබ හුදෙක් ඔබගේ උයනට පා තැබීම මාගේ මිතුරන් හා මම, ඔයා දන්නවා, තරමක් මතයක් දරමින් හිටියා. මාගේ අත් බිහිසුනු ලෙස නොවේ."
Anthuria looks at her hands.
"අපි මෙතන අසල දී හමුවෙන්නෙ පොත් කඳවුරු සිටි මිනිසුන්, සොල්දාදුවන්, ඉරණම දැන ගැනීමට පැමිණ ඇත. පීලි ආපසු මෙහි හේතු වී තිබේ. ඔබට සෑම ඔබ, ඒ ගැන කිසිවක් දන්නේ නැහැ? ඔබේ 'රජු' ගැන? මෙම ස්ථානය ගැන මට කියන්න."
"Hush now, calm yourself! We certainly aren't here to destroy you or anything else. You've been quite disagreeable, you know, accosting my friends and I for simply setting foot into your garden. And my hands aren't monstrous." Anthuria examines her bloody hand, checking for signs of monstrosity.
"We've come to learn the fate of men, soldiers, who were camping in the woods near here. The tracks have led back here. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? What about your 'king'? Tell me about this place."
පුනර්භවයක් නැත විනාශ කිරීමට? ඔබ මේ වන විටත් තියෙනවා! ඔබ ලොකු ජනයා - ඔබ ඔබේ මාර්ගය ගැන කිසිම දෙයක් හරහා තලා හා ඉරා! පිරිමි පමණක් අපේ ලී හරහා ලබා ගැනීමට ක්රමයක් කිරීමට, අපගේ රෝස මල් කීතු ගස් වලට අනවසරයෙන් ලදී. රෝස මල් ආපසු හැරී සටන් නොහැකි, ඒ නිසා අපි කළා. The grin that crosses his face inspires revulsion and fear, not joy. මේ අපේ රජ මංගල්යය ශාලාව වේ. ඒ වගේම අපි අද රෑ තෑගිබෝග ඇත. මෙම මාර්ගය-ඉදි කරන්නන් රාත්රී භෝජන ක් සබැදී වඩා ප්රසන්න රාත්රී ආහාරය පාඨමාලා කරන්න.
එයින් ඔවුන් අදහස්.."
Anthuria blinks, aware that she is speaking a new tongue.
"They have the men. They blame them for destroying the forest in the name of progress. This is their kings feast hall, whatever that means. They plan to eat thesoldiers, tonight!"
She turns back to the feything.
සොල්දාදුවන්, ඔවුන් ජීවත් වන්නේ?
The men, are they alive?
The fey cackles gleefully. ජීවමානයි? ඔබ අප ජීවත් වන ඔවුන්ට කළ කියලා හිතන්නේ? ඔබ ඔවුන්ගේ නිදා රවුම සොයා අය, අපි මංගල්යය සඳහා ඔවුන් අවශ්ය වූයේ නැත. හුදෙක් ඔවුන් මිය ගිය අවශ්ය වූයේ, හා පිටුපසින් ඔවුන් අත්හැර - අනෙක් ලොකු අය ලොකු සිදුරක් තැබුවේ ය. පොළොව ඔවුන් ආපසු යැවී ය. සෑම විටම ඔබට, බව අමතක ඩිස්ට්රෝයර්. ඔබ සටන් මේ ලෝකයේ ආධිපත්යය සඳහා සටන් එහෙත්, අවසානය වන විට, රෝස මල් ඔබේ ශරීරය පිනවීමට ඇත. අපි මුලින්ම ඒ සඳහා ලබා ගැනීමට නොහැකි නම්.
දැන්, ඇතුලට එන්න. ඔබේ මිතුරන් අවසරය, හා අපගේ මංගල්යය වන ලෙසයි. He tries to punctuate the last words with an odd gesture, but his hand hits Jetta's boot and interrupts the movement.
Now, come inside. Leave your friends and join our celebrations.
Balthus had heard enough. The fey was even bad enough to get Slasher riled up. Only the ranger's calloused hand on the dog kept him from thrashing the fey.
"That's enough. Find out if the men are alive and where?"
It took Slasher less than a second before it picked up the fey in its mouth like a terrier with a rat. The dog shook the fey so hard that its neck literally snapped, loudly.
"Monstrous," Anthuria whispers.
"Dead to man, it says."
She winces and turns her head as Slasher does his work.
Quickening his pace when he hears the fey being slaughtered by Slasher. Halting to stare at the dead Fey in the canines mouth Amund takes a deep breath to center himself. Taking long steps over to Anthuria and positioning himself to block the view he quietly asks Did the creature at least have something to tell that will help?
Jetta steps out of Slasher's way, regarding the sprite's grisly demise with grim satisfaction.
Mairen remains silent by the steps, watching with narrowed eyes, sword held at the ready.
Anthuria's eyes remains closed as she speaks to Amund.
"it said that the men, the road builders, the soldiers, they are all dead, and their remains shall be eaten in a feast this very night."
She opens here eyes. Tears threaten to escape them. She points to the stairwell at the glade's center.
"Down there."
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The priest said nothing as the large dog mauled the fey creature.
"it said that the men, the road builders, the soldiers, they are all dead, and their remains shall be eaten in a feast this very night.
"Down there."
He said nothing at first, his face betraying no emotion. He then looked at his arranged allies, and then said, pointing his heavy mace at the stairwell.
"Then let us crash the 'party'," he said. "We shouldn't keep the fey-king waiting if we do not have a plan."He turned to the rest, and said, looking to the better-trained party members, "The gods guard those who guard themselves, after all."
Percival Arizian | hp 44/44; AC 16/9T/16FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
Silence continues to reign at the mound. The hum of energy suffusing the group fades, the rose vines cease the thrashing Anthuria had set into motion, and Mairen shrinks down to her ordinary (still formidable) size and build. It appears the fight at the circle of stones has drawn no attention as of yet, so for now, time is available to prepare for the situation below.
Compassion floods Amunds eye as he looks down at Anthuria, If you need a moment take it but once we descend those stairs there will be no time. But you did very well earlier.
Turning to Ursa he gives the command to guard Lord Arizian.
Balthus called Slasher over, "Drop it!"
The dog obediently gave the fey one more shake for good measure and discarded the remains in a nearby rose bush.
He turned to Perry, "Magic against magic so the extra protection is welcomed. Take your time and pray as needed."
He then turned to the others, "After the protection is set, we'll go in. There's no more parley from now on. These are human-eating fey we are dealing with so no mercy. Understood?"
He checked his weapons, put his bow away, and pulled out his axe. "Like I said before, our best armored warriors should lead the way. That's you Miss Jetta and probably you, boy. You both OK with that? Meiren, do you want to be up front? You are wearing that tin can suit of yours?"
He then turned to the others, "After the protection is set, we'll go in. There's no more parley from now on. These are human-eating fey we are dealing with so no mercy. Understood?"
Jetta nods firmly. "Let's end these savages."
The hewn stone stairs spiral down, down, down into the earth. The sunlight from the surface quickly fades, but patches of phosphorescent fungus on the walls and ceilings ensure the way is lit. After spinning downward for more than thirty feet, you finally arrive in a small chamber, the ceiling little more than a foot above the heads of the tallest members of the group. Two doors open from this chamber.
Opposite the stairs is an elegant set of double doors carved from oak. Above the door is an intricate set of carvings, showing a rose field in full bloom. A regal-looking sprite with a gilded crown walks among the bushes, with his hand cradling a particularly full and attractive blossom.
To the side is another single door, this one unadorned and slightly shorter.
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The tall priest nearly hit his head, and hunched over slightly as he observed the chamber.
"Instincts say shutting this door," said the priest in a low voice, listening to the clink what he presumed to be wineglasses. He pulled out a length of chain, and a large lock, pulling the chain to a suitable length to hold the small handles shut. "We can't make sure what's inside there wouldn't come to the aid of the fey-king."