Your ride back from Riddleport is mostly uneventful, though word of your heroics with Alejia's crew gets around the ship and more than one crew member wants to hear some stories of your heroics. You arrive back in Absalom where you are promptly sent off to the Pathfinder Lodge, awaiting instruction.
Ahhh, the life of a Pathfinder.
The air grew still as Hamshanks rolled the party into a meeting room deep inside the Pathfinder Lodge in Absalom, his jowls flowing and his enormous axe clanking against his thigh. The man’s black eyes scanned the room. “You lot?” Hamshanks spat. "Heidmarch says you're one of the better groups of new recruits we've got."
“Well, maybe you’ll surprise me. Your boat leaves in an hour, so I’ll be brief. One of the Society’s contacts in Andoran sent us an interesting littlenugget this morning. A druid named Hemzel swept into
Augustana’s Civic Library last week, demanding his right of research. Our contact learned that Hemzel acquired a lorestone from somewhere in the Verduran Forest. Heard of such a thing?”
Hamshanks paused expectantly and spat again. “Of course not. Heard of druids, at least? And their crazy stone circles? Well thank Gorum for that. Lorestones are somehow connected to them—supposedly they can bestow you with all of the knowledge of the druids. We’d like to know how, so we want that stone and you’re going to get it for us."
“Unfortunately, the Society is not a friend to Hemzel. He’s the self-declared protector of the Verduran Forest inside Andoran’s borders and some of our more eager explorers have angered him and his little band of gnomes. He’s sworn a blood feud with the Pathfinders."
“Break out your skills of persuasion and get me that lorestone. Do what you need to—sweep the floors or plant some trees for the old man. Something nice—let him know we’re there to study and not to slash and burn.”
The Venture-Captain claps his hands and looks towards the door. Apparently your briefing is over and he is ready for you to depart. After no one moves immediately he adds, "Your boat departs in one hour. Best you get what you need for your mission and be at the docks quickly now."
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Grym's jaw drops at the pace, the tone, and especially the brevity, of Venture-Captain Hamshanks' briefing. He shakes his head quickly as he realizes that nothing more is forthcoming.
"My gramercy for your . . . erudition on our objective, Venture-Captain. If you will pardon me, I will commence preparations."
After stopping by his personal storage to refill his quiver, the half-elf bolts for the Grand Lodge's library. He grins as he hears a chirpy halfling voice in the chambers. "Janira -- good to see you again. I wish there were more time for pleasantries, but I am to depart on a mission in great celerity. Would you deign to assist me in reconnoitering whatever we can on the Verduran Forest, its druids, and lorestones?"
Janira greets Grym kindly, pleased to see her investigator friend again. She answers some of Grym's questions to the best of her ability, but is not able to answer them all.
The Verduran Forest is one of the largest woodlands in Avistan, and straddles the borders between Andoran, Taldor, and Galt. Despite standing within the boundaries of these powerful nations, the druids of the forest maintain a high level of autonomy within it, especially in Taldor.
Though the druids watch over the forest, it nevertheless presents many dangers, including ettercaps, a variety of snakes, swarms of spiders, savage fey, crocodiles, dragons, and river pirates.
As to the lorestone, "I'm afraid I can't help you there specifically. I know the druids have all manner of fantastical artifacts within their possession that they do not share with The Society. Thousands of years ago, the forest, and the druids who tended it, stretched across much of modern Andoran. Today these guardians have all but vanished, their heritage preserved only by the eroded remnants of mysterious stone circles dotting the forest."
Janira bids Grym and his companions good luck on their journey.
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Nym seems as sad as Troyst when he also learns that burning things isn't the mission objective.
Crest fallen, Nym sighs "I suppose I could prepare that unseen servant spell to sweep things."
Nym is a slim and gangly elf with brown hair and green eyes with pale skin. He is dressed in simple traveling clothes. Pinned to his chest is a brand new wayfinder.
The party returns to the docks just in time to catch their ship. Once they've done so they notice that Olvier is no longer among them and in his place is an elven wizard named Nym. Your trip at sea is full of terrible weather which causes the less hardy of you all to toss your meal overboard more than once. The crew of the ship asks for tales of your Riddleport adventures and Cid is more than gracious enough to fill them in with a song of your deeds.
Eventually you arrive at your destination and begin the land portion of your trek. As the sun sets on the third day of travel in the Verduran Forest, the welcome sight of a puffing chimney—Hemzel’s home, according to the map—reveals itself atop a hill. Smoke rises lazily from a chimney set atop a small, round wooden hut just over a steep hillside covered in thick vines and brambles. As you near the hut you hear voices coming from inside, but a shout from outside of the hut catches your attention.
“Too late, too late for Hemzel!” a high voice cackles from behind the hut. “Gire, finish them!” You are unable to pinpoint the exact location of the voice, but it came from somewhere on the east side of the hut.
You quickly make your way to the door but as you reach it your attention is quickly diverted as a rotten log in front of you suddenly shatters and thousands of spiders comes pouring out from between the pieces of rotten log and they begin to crawl all over Grym and Troyst. The spiders crawl up their legs, over their chest and rain down from the air as they fall off pieces of log. Within seconds Grym and Troyst are both bitten nearly two dozen times each.
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Cid steps back a bit putting distance between himself and the swarm.
Whooboy. Not the way we wanted to start this. Burning down the dudes house to start. Great going Nym. You're the best wizard in the world... On the other hand.. spiders.
Cid looks around searching for something to do but instead shrugs his shoulders and awaits the outcome of the swarm.. and house.
Nym's fire scorches the spiders as a blaze blackens hundreds of the spiders, but some scurry out of the way in time. Once the fire has subsided it's evident that there are still some spiders moving in the swarm and it's not finished quite yet.
A tiny voice from inside of the closed hut squeaks out, "Sure Boss! I, the mighty swordswoman Gire, will protect the forest from these intruders! Spiders, bite those big ones! Onward!" she commands the swarms. Seemingly following orders the spiders move after Nym as he vacates to the west. The remaining spiders swarm over Cid and Saphera as they chase the party to the west, biting and biting over and over again.
From the east side of a tiny red headed flying creature zips from the window inside the hut to behind the briar patch. This miniscule, green-skinned humanoid wields a needle-thin rapier. A pair of dragonfly wings holds the wee creature aloft. She flies east out of the window and hovers out over the open ground, far enough out of any melee reach. She looks over the party and shouts, "Take out that good looking male one, he is probably their evil leader and especially dangerous!"
In lands thick with fey, atomies often serve as border sentries or bodyguards to nymphs, dryads, or other more powerful fey creatures. While atomies prove only passable in their ability to defend such creatures, other fey accept their fealty out of respect and perhaps with a bit of mirth as well. Atomies enjoy their time as honor guards, but often grow bored and leave their posts in search of adventure.
These nimble creatures adore swordplay and practice with their blades endlessly. Atomies often travel their lands seeking adventure tinged with mischief. Sensitive to bullying and oppression, atomies revel in turning the tables on a cruel mayor or tormenting dishonorable mercenary bands. Atomies, enamored with tales of epic duels and the defeat of great evils, sometimes follow adventuring parties and eavesdrop on their nightly tales by the campfire. If a warrior in the group tends to boast of his swordplay, an atomie rarely resists the urge to humble him by sabotaging his equipment or invisibly reducing him and challenging him to a duel.
An atomie stands just under a foot tall and weighs 2 pounds.
She looks at Cid and begins to cast a spell causing the weeds and grass to burst forth from the ground and begin to wrap themselves around his feet, binding him in place.
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Saphera reaches into her pouch and pulls out a vile containing a strong smelling ointment, and then begins spreading it over herself.
Saphera shifts five foot out of the swarm of spiders, then reaches into her pouch and retrieves a vial containing a reddish alchemical liquid. Without delay she throws the vial directly at the swarm.
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The alchemical creation slips from Melisandre's hand as she throws and comes up short, exploding on the ground directly in front of her. The blaze burns on the grass and path alike, scorching about half of remaining living spiders. There are still several spiders crawling around though, they aren't finished yet.
The flying fey squeels, "Oooohhhh! Spiders! Take out that devilish fire witch!"
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Nym curses at the grappling weeds, but with a bit of luck from his nimble heritage manages to avoid them.
Glancing to Cid he says "So are you still worried about torching the hermit's hut?"
Moving to the only possible position to roast spiders and not comrades he casts Burning Hands again.
Nym takes great joy in the fact many weeds met the fate of the spiders.
Nym mocks the stupid weeds.
Nym finishes scorching the last of the spiders.
The flying fey squeals, "Evil, evil, evil elf wizard and your fire! Cyflymder the great was right! You need to be stopped!" and with that she vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.
From somewhere closer to the hut that it was moment ago a tiny voice boast, "Glory indeed! I shall fell you first half-elf!"
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Saphera tries to pull herself free of the vegetation, then begins speaking.
"Small fay and those in the building. My name is Saphera and these are my friends. We have come hear seeking a peaceful conversation, not a fight. I apologize for the need to destroy those spiders. It was ether that or allow them to kill us. I wish a peaceful remedy here, not a violent one. As much I would enjoy watching your fantastic sword play, your hostility would end up being wasted on potential friends. What do you say? Shale we speak and see if this fight can be avoided?"
The atomie appears about six inches in front of Saphera's face, holding the tiny rapier out about an inch from her right eye. With the blade pointed she asks curious, "Wait a minute here. You're not evildoers that want to cut down the forest and steal our secrets and eat us for dinner?"
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Saphera smiles warmly at the tiny Atomie. "No dear, we are hear to talk. Not burn, steal, or destroy you. We are here on a peaceful mission. I really could use a skilled weapon master, as you are clearly a cut above average, as a friend and ally. We generally try to respect the forest and its inhabitants."
The atomie lowers her rapier and looks confused. "Butbutbut Cyflymder said you were evil bigguns here to burn and pillage the forest of us?"
The atomie hovers a bit longer and frowns looking around. "He lied?"