Balthus called Slasher over and tried to clean up the dog some. His crimson jaws must be unnerving to some people. He mumbled to his companion, "Gotta look good boy. Otherwise, the pretty girls won't get near you."
The ranger tried to determine if there was anything worthy of note on the northern door.
Once Jetta is back and assuming no new information became available, he lets her take the lead in opening the northern door.
He quipped, "At least you didn't have to eat poison..."
"Let who sleep?" Anthuria whispered loud enough for the others to hear. "Surely by now we've woken every living thing down here."
She is tempted to kneel and pet Slasher but, given his current state, decides to hold off until he's had a bath. Instead, she again flips through the encyclopedia, her eyes finding new horrors on every page. "I didn't know that many teeth could fit in such a small head..." she mumbles.
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Approaching the knight standing watch, Perry stood beside Jetta, keeping watch with her.
"Think our backs are safe yet?" he asked, avoiding her eyes.
No immediate evidence of what the fey could have meant by "letting them sleep" presents itself, although the walls of the room are covered with carvings of a crowned fey tending carefully to small bushes such as these. And the creatures in here and in the glade above did change from bushes to sprites when they began hostilities...
Balthus sees no indication of any surprises on the north door, and it does not appear to be locked. Words are carved into the door's face in the fey's strange language. තුල මව් රැජින, අපේ උතුම් රජ ආක්රමණිකයන් මත ය.
The markings on the door suddenly make sense.
"Wait!" she yells, almost tripping over her own shoes as she rushes forward to prevent anyone from opening the door.
"This could be bad, very bad. Inside rests the queen mother, progenitor of the king. If she's anything like the king..."
Suddenly, the barracks at Fort Thorn seem a welcome respite.
Sighing deeply and again longing for the simplicity he did not know he left behind in the city. Then we brace for another fight.
Sighing deeply and again longing for the simplicity he did not know he left behind in the city. Then we brace for another fight.
Balthus nodded solemnly, "Agreed. This ends here and now. We can't let this queen mother live to push out more little kings."
Slasher's hairs bristled and low growl issued from deep in his chest.
Approaching Jetta, he asked, "Your departure was sudden--did you hear something?"
"Uh... No. Yes? I received an... order." Jetta wrinkles her brow in confusion. "To watch our backs."
Perry stood beside Jetta, keeping watch with her.
"Think our backs are safe yet?" he asked, avoiding her eyes.
"Yes," she answers annoyedly. "But I'm not in the habit of disobeying orders."
"I see. Let's cover the premises in a quick patrol, shall we? That'll be enough, I suspect," he said.
Jetta is about to object, loudly, but stops short. Perry was talking sense. She could not quite remember who gave her the order to come up in the first place, and thinking about was starting to give her a headache.
Without another word, she starts doing a quick patrol of the area as instructed, and returns underground with the priest once satisfied that the glade is clear of hostiles.
Jetta returns with Perry, taking her place at the front.
Once Jetta is back and assuming no new information became available, he lets her take the lead in opening the northern door.
He quipped, "At least you didn't have to eat poison..."
The Hellknight clears her throat in embarrassment, starting to clear her head of the enchantment.
"Sorry," she answers with utmost seriousness. "That won't happen again."
Jetta and Perry return, her flushed face hidden behind her impassive Hellknight mask. Everyone steels themselves for what may lay beyond this final door, waiting with bated breath as Jetta reaches forward and pushes it open; it responds to her slightest touch, gliding forward effortlessly.
Beyond, a shaft of golden sunlight descends through a small hole in the cavern's ceiling, motes of dust dancing in the beam. It falls upon a huge rosebush with the most beautiful blooms anyone can remember - even Anthuria, who has spent her entire career working with exotic and fantastic plant specimens. The nine deep red blossoms are the size of saucers, and shot through with a multitude of crimson hues. More blooms bedeck the walls of the cavern - and strangely, though you see no vases or other sources of water, they look perfectly fresh...
No movement greets the door's opening; indeed, from the dust on the floor, it looks as if this chamber is rarely entered.
... More blooms bedeck the walls of the cavern - and strangely, though you see no vases or other sources of water, they look perfectly fresh...
No movement greets the door's opening; indeed, from the dust on the floor, it looks as if this chamber is rarely entered.
Balthus checks on Anthuria and puts his hand on her shoulder, "Watch out girl and keep your eyes open. This doesn't smell good; I don't care how good this looks."
Keeping his eyes open for any ambushes or traps, the ranger states, "We should probably torch this place. We need to make sure no more little fey kings are born."
While Anthuria is glad to see Jetta's momentary hypnosis at an end, she suddenly loses her train of thought and gasps as the door glides open. Inside, the most perfect specimen of rose she has ever seen rests peacefully. Her mouth hangs open unintentionally as she examines it from a distance.
But she has learned much in her brief time in the forest. Hidden here, among such evil, the bush radiates menace. She cannot help but think that its beauty is a product of the suffering of the innocent people on the table behind them. It has grown healthy and robust on the blood of men. For all its beauty, it is an abomination.
"We should probably torch this place."
Part of her weeps at the thought of destroying such a specimen, for surely in a lifetime she could not produce such a thing. And perhaps the plant contains some clue as to the secrets of the fey. But she has no appetite for such things right now.
"Burn it to the ground," she says.
Closing his eyes for a moment trying to imprint the image before him. We cannot leave it alive.
Mairen holds out her hand, asking that nobody enter just yet, and steps into the very threshold of the door. Slowly looking around, she mutters a prayer to Erastil, and begins to detect the entire room for evil.
While the others begin to busy their minds in thoughts of the court's destruction, Mairen turns to Erastil in silent prayer, beseeching him for his insight into the nature of this place. And what she sees surprises her: nothing. No sleeping malice assaults her; there is no sense of corruption or stink of spiritual rot. This seems to simply be a rosebush - a magnificent botanical specimen, to be sure, and carefully and lovingly tended, but with no hidden evil nature.
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Perry's eyes widen at the rosebush. The side of his mouth turned to a boyish grin at its beauty.
"Emmalyn would love one of these in the garden," he said, smiling openly. "What do you think, Jetta? Next to the Chelaxian Reds bush--framed with those little white flower things near the pond."
He waited behind Marien, before saying a prayer to Abadar to reveal any magical residue.
"Tis almost a shame to remove it from this spot--very photogenic," he said while observing it.
The roses have been raised among fey magics, and as such there are traces of lingering abjurations and transmutations that reveal themselves to Perry's eye, but no active magical effects; what he can see are only faint hints of auras long faded that seem almost a part of the bush. It has certainly grown and flourished under somewhat magical caretaking, but no specific spell effects seem evident, on it or any other part of the room.
"Come now, friends," he said diplomatically. "There is no need to burn this down with the fuel of paranoia: the Eternal Rose might well as smite us for merely thinking of tramping upon something so rare and magnificent as this."
Balthus nodded and scratched his chin, "If it's not evil itself then no need to destroy but I fear it will die soon without the fey tending it. I mean this is an underground chamber. Don't flowers need sunlight?"
He looked at Anthuria, "What do you think? Will this survive? Should you take some seeds or pods or whatever to try and plant it some place else?"
"Emmalyn would love one of these in the garden," he said, smiling openly. "What do you think, Jetta? Next to the Chelaxian Reds bush--framed with those little white flower things near the pond."
I'm sure Aunt Emma would adore them...
Jetta shifts uncomfortably, looking to Anthuria for confirmation. "If Anthuria says we should burn it, we burn it."
Still staring at the rose bush Amund calls out,Anthuria plants are your area of expertise. Are we still burning to the ground? He sound rather sad at the idea.
"I honestly don't know. What of the door's inscription? Is this the queen mother, the progenitor of the king? If this created that, that thing outside, should we risk another growing up?"
She turns to Mairen and Perry, an earnest expression on her face: "Here I fear we face matters of faith, not of knowledge. What do your hearts tell you?"
Mairen is still staring at the rose bush, and then she sighs and turns to the group. She removes her helm so as to rub her brow, then replaces it.
"I didn't come out here to preserve nature, but rather to clear the land of enemies and make it safe for our people."
That said, she hesitates then looks to Anthuria. "Is there any mention of this bush in that book you acquired?"
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Perry observed the rose batch up close, and then said, "Throughout my lifetime, I've seen many acts of the divine, and heard and read of many philosophies and schools of thought.
"'tis very difficult to know when we are being Tested--when a mortal, or even a divine is observing you, and places you in a scene that will define who you you are--to them and to yourself," he said. "Can even terrible creatures such as these fey something so beautiful dear to them? Will fear and superstition cause us to trample on something so helpless? Would we realize in this short moment that safeguarding the land does not mean choking it under rough hewn stone?"
He then sighed, and stood up straight. "My heart tells me that we should not destroy it. This little plant is a microcosm of the tribulations that face our crusade and many like it: we must live with the world, and not cripple its order by bending it to our every whim. We must preserve what does not need to be destroyed, and destroy only that which whose loss does not harm--but betters the world."
It also wouldn't hurt to see how expensive the seeds are.
Jetta listens to Perry's speech, gritting her teeth in frustration until she can take no more.
"Get your head out of the clouds, Uncle!" she snaps at the priest. "You're the one who is being superstitious. A divine test? It's a bunch of roses! How egotistical do you have to—"
The Hellknight stops herself short. Taking a deep breath before continuing, she manages to calm herself down somewhat. "Pretty words aren't going to retake this Vale. We can't stop second-guessing ourselves like this based on vague feelings about what's right or wrong. That is completely irrelevant. Unless there is something factual in Athuria's book that gives us a reason not to destroy these roses, we should. We should raze this place, and the glade above, so no malign fey influence takes root here again."
Anthuria hesitates. She fears the roses, this is true, but she cannot deny the...effect this place has had on her. Surely there must be some connection between the fey, their roses, and her condition. The scarlet blooms seem to implore her.
Save us. We are innocents. Surely we will die.
She shakes her head, trying to clear it, then takes an uncertain step forward.
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"I was asked what my heart told me--and that was what my heart said," Perry displayed a peaceful grin, and then added. "Trampling on roses and flowers is a terrible thing: what remains afterwards is always--"
He paused, looking to the Hellknight sadly. "--a sad sight to see."
Beneath her helm, Jetta's face flushes bright red. She takes a threatening step towards Perry and all but shouts,
The young Hellknight stops short once more, realising she had been louder than she had intended. She stands there for a moment, clenching and unclenching her gauntleted fists, which let out an audible creak.
Anthuria hesitates.
She shakes her head, trying to clear it, then takes an uncertain step forward.
Noticing Anthuria move into the room, Jetta quickly takes the opportunity to disengage from Perry. She follows the sorceress towards the roses, throwing one more angry glare back at the priest.
The book mentions nothing about this plant, or this place specifically, but it does mention the predilection roseblood sprites have for roses. They consider the plants their ancestors, or relatives, and they put a great deal of time and care into raising the plants in their tending. There are even stories of vines with flowers that would never wilt, if handled gently and only by hand; these blooms are considered a sign of blessing to the sprites.
Upon closer inspection, Anthuria sees that the roses are indeed even more striking up close, and some have developed into hips from which seeds could possibly be extracted; she also sees that, like all roses, they have their thorns. In this case, inch-long, wickedly sharp-looking ones, like those the fey used to create their poison arrows. Plucking one without injury would be a challenge.
Mairen watches the hellknight's outburst with an impassive face, her almond shaped eyes moving from Sir Perry and back. When Anthuria moves forward into the room, however, she becomes more alert, ax held still by her side but ready to swing at a moment's notice.
Closing his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to drown out the family argument. When Jetta stops mid sentence Amund jumps a little as he opens his eyes and scans the room. Fool there is nothing.. What is she doing.
Taking long strides to catch up to Anuthuria and Jetta who for some reason decided to enter the room where evil Fey are born. His spear at the read when he crosses the threshold.
Up closer the roses are seemingly flawless. What a shame it births evil little monsters. Not sure how that happens.
Speaking softly so Anthuria hopefully isn't startled while near the bush and its thorns. Anthuria did the book lend any light to our problem?
"No, I'm afraid not," she says absently, her eyes lost in the enormous rose plant. "But, these thorns are incredibly large and sharp. I suppose this is where they cultivate their arrowheads."
Now so close to the thing, her fear fades and her interest piques. Still, she isn't sure how she would preserve the specimen without damaging its roots, or even if the plant will survive without daily care. With a resigned sigh she turns back to the group. She almost bumps into Amund, and hops back, blushing. "Oh! Very sorry," she says as she studies the floor.
"I'm afraid I lack the proper tools to safely extract a sample. Perhaps, before we return to Korvosa, I might have a chance to come back with some supplies from Fort Thorn. But I suppose that's not likely." Hoping to relieve the tension between them, she directs a question to Jetta and Perry: "Jetta, Lord Arizian, do you think we are ready to report back?"
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"I'm afraid I lack the proper tools to safely extract a sample. Perhaps, before we return to Korvosa, I might have a chance to come back with some supplies from Fort Thorn. But I suppose that's not likely." Hoping to relieve the tension between them, she directs a question to Jetta and Perry: "Jetta, Lord Arizian, do you think we are ready to report back?"
Balthus was confused, "Girl, pay attention here and leave the flowery stuff for another day. What are we doing here? Are we torching this place down or not?"
Anthuria opens her mouth to retort with a quip about Balthus's slow, leisurely lunch while everyone else was busy fighting, but thinks better of it.
She turns back to the plant, eyeing it longingly. "I suppose you're right. As much as I'd like a sample, and as valuable as a daughter specimen might be, the danger is too great. If you wish to burn it, I won't stop you." She moves back toward the entrance.
"But whatever you decide, act quickly."
"If this is the source of their poisoned arrows, then its beauty is irrelevant. We must destroy it or take it with us. Leaving it behind is not an option."
"If this is the source of their poisoned arrows, then its beauty is irrelevant. We must destroy it or take it with us. Leaving it behind is not an option."
The Hellknight nods in agreeance.
"Jetta, Lord Arizian, do you think we are ready to report back?""I do. We are finished here," he said, nodding.
"Indeed," Jetta grumbles.
"Then we take it with us," Percival said. "I will aid where I can."
"Well," Jetta says impatiently. "You aren't going to talk them into not pricking you. Somebody's going to have to risk their hands..."
Lord Arizian's plan seems flawless - until his surgeon's scissors cut through the flower's stem with a soft snick. Immediately, the rose begins to droop; within mere moments, petals begin to drop, and soon Perry is left with nothing but a bare stem and a carpet of shriveled petals at his feet. It seems the flowers do not respond well to tools, and the book Anthuria carries did mention that the blooms only maintained their virtue when harvested only by hands.
Jetta does not gloat out loud, but tilts her head at the priest as if to say, "I told you so."
Anthuria smiles dreamily as the enchanted rose wilts before their eyes. "Of course. Brilliant."
She strolls over to the large bush and begins to carefully tug at one of the closest blooms. "Carefully, carefully... There we are...." She pulls free a bloom whose thorns seem to glare menacingly at their captor. "It only takes a little faith," she says with a wink, offering the rose to Perry.
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Balthus spat on the ground, "Let's torch the place and be gone. I'm sure the captain will be happy to know that we dealt with some of his problems already."