Abelard stays towards the edge of the clearing, both admiring the great tree at it's center and remaining vigilant for danger.
Something about this seems a bit off. Often a large tree is host to an equally large resident. Perhaps some great bird has nested somewhere in the boughs. Or a burrowing creature might have taken refuge in the natural structures created by this root system. Either way, I doubt such a creature would take kindly to our presence.
Merrick's look around the elder darkwood’s trunk reveals a small patch of elderwood moss Laurel described.
However, unfortunately Abelard's suspicions prove well-founded: something has been using the tree as its home. Well-concealed in the foot of the vast tree, wrapped around its trunk and hidden under the foliage, a giant serpentine form writhes and uncurls, striking at Merrick as he approaches.
Thankfully the preternaturally alert ranger manages to duck the bite of the thing's jaws. It hisses in frustration and rears to strike again.
If he is close enough, Boruk will move towards the serpent, drawing his waraxe and attack, shouting Die, ye giant slug!
Ethan nocks and looses an arrow at the creature.
Seeing this beast, Abelard shouts a warning to his friends close to the tree, but it reaches the ears of Merrick and Boruk several seconds too late.
What on earth is that creature? I've never seen it's like before. A type of serpent or dragon perhaps?
Abelard, being too far away to help any of his companions directly, elects to once again call for aid from the great beyond.
With a few familiar gestures, Abelard summons his eagle as close as possible to the beast.
Merrick pulls back as the creature strikes at him. "Gah! Watch yourselves, something's made its home here!" he shouts to the group. He grabs the hilt of his shortsword and draws it in a single slashing arc.
Merrick is able to identify the thing as a taztlwyrm, a rare dragon-descended creature. Less dangerous than a true dragon, although not by much.
The scaly beast roars in pain as Boruk's axe and Merrick's shortsword pierce its hide deeply (although Ethan's arrow misses). Black gouts of blood ooze from its side and neck, hindering its return strike.
Now fully into the flow of battle, Boruk embraces his battle-rage, slams his axe against his shield, throws back his shoulders and lets out a roar of primal fury. His eyes, now wild with anger, focus in on the taztlwyrm and he attacks with another roar.
Merrick attempts to maneuver behind the beast as Boruk continues his onslaught, using his sword to strike at its core.
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Parundar sees the potential danger of this beast, hearing Abelard's warning, and aims to disrupt its concentration with another evil glare (Parundar now aims to hit the beast's Attack Rolls with Evil Eye).
The intensity of danger overtaking him, Parundar remembers the conflicts he had with angry enemies in bars. The thing that seemed to mess with them the most was not the fact that Parundar pulled the wool over their eyes, but rather the laughter that he waved in theirs faces.
After directing the eagle to attack the tatzylwyrm, Abelard takes cover behind a nearby rock or tree, unable to offer any more aid at the moment.
The mighty eagle appears directly in front of this new foe and unleashes a series of swift attacks targeting the creature's head.
Seeing Boruk applying brutal strikes with his axe on the beast, Ethan keeps his bow drawn, ready to loose the arrow if the beast survives the dwarf’s blow.
The scaled beast roars in pain, lunging towards Boruk, but it succeeds only in exposing its neck for one more fatal strike, and the enraged dwarf almost severs its head in a single blow.
Its corpse slumps in the shadow of the vast tree, twitching for a few moments before finally giving one last convulsion and going still forever.
Now free of the beast's threat, Merrick is easily able to harvest several patches of elderwood moss, following Laurel's precise instructions.
You also find, among the roots of the tree, the corpses of three hunters who went missing from Falcon’s Hollow months ago, evidently killed by the tatzlwrym when they happened upon the grove. Although the bodies have been stripped of nearly all their flesh, the woodsmen’s equipment lies near their half-devoured carcasses. Searching the bodies reveals two crossbows, two short swords, a shirt of hide armor, a masterwork shortbow, a signet ring with the image of a flaming hawk (worth 5 gp), 9 gp, 12 sp, and eight days’ worth of rations.
Consulting the map, you see that your next destination is the witch's cottage, which looks to be maybe half a day's travel from here. You should get there just before sunset.
Looking over the creature, Abelard tries to determine if there would be anything worth harvesting either for practical or arcane purposes.
Then, while looking over the spoils, the signet ring catches his eye. I wonder who this might have belonged to?
Afterwards, Abelard turns to the group. "We march ever forward, I suppose."
Seeing the beast go still after his last attack, Boruk calms himself and a sense of tiredness washes over him. "Foul beastie, that'll teach ye to attack a dwarf or his friends," he says, with a final kick to the taztlwyrm's corpse for good measure.
"No, the beastie didn't get a chance to sink its fangs into me. I'm fine." he replies to Parundar.
"Aye, I think we should keep goin' while we can. The witch's hut is the next closest place to here. We should go there first. The sooner we gather the cure the less chance of people dyin'. We should let someone in the village know of the hunter's deaths when we get back though. They deserve a proper burial," he says nodding towards the bodies.
Ethan kneels beside the bodies and whispers a prayer for Erastil to guide them to the Spire.
Once he has finished, he stands and nods. ”We can return the bodies for burial once we have stopped the plague. The living need us more than the dead.”
After a brief rest, you press on. The forest becomes much denser this far in, with the trees ever more closely-packed, and visibility drops even further. The rain that has been falling all day has stopped, and the wind carries the heavy cloud away, allowing the late afternoon sun through. Beams of watery light shine down through the heavy vegetation.
You trudge on. The smell of the wet earth and the drip of rainwater from falling leaves mingles with the sounds of the forest: insects chirping, birds calling, and the rustle animals through the undergrowth.
The sun has turned orange and started to dip below the horizon by the time you make it to your destination. The sounds of the forest become suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small glade. The nearest stands of chestnut, elm, and darkwood — all typically sturdy woods — twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots.
At the glade’s center squats an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon ramshackle stone walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes — each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent — stand propped in the yard, keeping guard in front of a rickety plank door.
To one side of the cottage is the remains of what was once a shed of some sort, its roof caved in and the bowed walls long since fallen.
The smell of wet soil is replaced by an overpowering smell of decay and mold - even the ground is covered in mildew and fungus, rather than the grass you have been walking through elsewhere.
All is quiet.
Boruk looks around the glade warily. Something about the glade gives him the shivers. He tries to see if notices anything unusual, eyes lingering particularly on the old stonework.
"This place gives me the creeps, watch yerselves."
Before approaching the building, Merrick turns to the group. "Should we maybe make our presence known...?" discomfort and worry is visible on his face. "If she truly is a witch, last thing I want is to be cursed for trespassing." His grip tightens on leather handle of his bow, he remains crouched and alert.
Ethan steps forward from the group, bow slung and hands open.
"Ulizimila! We come seeking your wisdom and council. We mean you no ill-will, only to find a remedy for the disease plaguing the people of Falcon's Hollow. Will you speak with us?"
Ethan's call shatters the unnatural silence, and his words hang in the air for some moments after they're spoken.
There is no reply.
Boruk can see that the stonework of the place has not been tended to for decades.
Merrick sees no sign of anyone living there: no traces in the earth of someone moving around, no smoke in the chimney, no firelight beyond the doorway.
Best guess: the place is deserted, and has been for a long time.
As Ethan calls out, Abelard frowns ever so slightly. Well I suppose that's one way of doing it. No matter how contact is initiated, I can't help but believe that this isn't going to go well.
"If she is here and willing to speak, perhaps I should be the one to broker a deal. Though it was only once and quite some time ago, I have dealt with a witch before. No matter how the conversation goes, I suspect we will have to give up something important in order to receive what we need from her."
Abelard recites a few arcane phrases under his breath and a shimmering field of energy covers him, providing protection from some degree of harm.
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Parundar feels uneasy, particularly at the sight of the fetish guards. He pores through his mind, attempting to ascertain if these would hold magical wards/traps that might harm the party.
Ethan's straightforwardness reminds Parundar of his old friend. He can't help but smile at the resemblance.
Abelard's experience in witch matters reassures Parundar. "I understand. Please, be careful." With those words, Parundar casts Resistance on Abelard.
Nothing continues to happen, apart from the sun dipping slightly lower on the horizon.
Abelard moves slowly toward the cabin with the intent of speaking with the witch. He does not make any threatening gestures, but remains on guard for danger as much as possible.
"Stay on your guard friends. This could turn sour very quickly."
Merrick stands back at the edge of the clearing, watching as Abelard advances. He keeps his bow raised with an arrow knocked and drawn.
Aware that he is potentially taking his life into his hands, Abelard moves slowly forward, step-by-step; but at no time does his presence set off any alarms or wards. The thatched fetishes that stand in his way do not move to attack or turn to watch him as he passes them by.
The knock on the door is like an explosion in the silence that came before, but again, nothing happens.
After a decent interval, Abelard carefully opens the door to peer inside.
Inside, the cottage is dank, reeking of mold and rot, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, jars of items preserved in liquid, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a veritable museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A small collection of books, leather covers rotted and pages eaten away, sits in an alcove by the door. A grotesque, amulet-like shrunken head, green with rot and its eyes and lips sewn shut, hangs from the ceiling. A rusted iron cauldron, with a mouth nearly 5 feet wide and a depth of at least 3 feet, sits in one corner, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils. Across from the door, against the far walls, stands a high-backed chair made of wicker, the gigantic curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of human teeth. In the chair sits what looks like a corpse wrapped in filthy burial linens, its form padded with pungent herbs and sprouting patches of thick white mold.
From the decay and dust, it's clear that nobody has been here in a long time.
Boruk accompanies Abelard as he heads toward the hut, ready to protect the wizard should any physical threat emerge. As they enter, the smell of the rot and mold, along with the sight of the various macabre and sinister curios and objects, cause him to grimace.
He points to the corpse and turns to Abelard, "Ulizimila, do ye think?"
If nothing emerges or attacks he will carefully begin searching for any sign of the rat's tail or where to find it, beginning with the herbs, then the books and finally, and warily, he will check the corpse itself.
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Parundar follows a step or two behind Boruk, careful not to touch anything.
"If it is Ulizimila, it seems like she's passed for a while. But she wouldn't have intentionally wrapped herself in burial linens to die, would she?"
Parundar would like to take a look and see if he can ascertain if she died of age or if there are any other signs of cause of death.
Ethan enters the cottage as well, he looks around the room and his eyes fall upon the corpse in the chair.
”If it is her, someone must have prepared her body. By the conditions, It would seem they didn’t choose to remain here.”
Ethan begins to look around the cottage for anything of use.
Abelard turns to Boruk with an expression of utter confusion. "I can say with absolute certainty that this...is not at all what I expected to find here. If the witch is truly dead, that calls into question the manner of her demise. And even with the obvious threat out of the picture, I would not consider this cabin to be "safe" by any stretch of the imagination. Let us proceed with caution."
Abelard helps Boruk search mainly by trying to identify any magical threats before they become an issue.
Abelard is able to identify several items which radiate magic, among them the shrunken head dangling from the ceiling and the vast cauldron lurking in the corner.
He doesn't have much time to ponder this, though, since the instant that Boruk starts to poke around the hut, the huge cauldron comes to life and attacks him! Its vast 'mouth' opens around the dwarf, crushing him and holding him fast in a vice-like grip.
Merrick let's out a startled shout as the cauldron springs to life. His legs carry him back against the wall directly behind him, away from the strange thing. When he sees it grab onto Boruk, he raises his bow and fires at it. "What in the world is going on!? Boruk, does it hurt?"
Hmm a magic cauldron. That's quite interesting. I wonder if... "Oh my goodness!" Abelard jumps back in surprise, but then moves closer to Boruk to touch some part of him that is visible.
"Don't worry, my friend. This should help you get out."
As Boruk begins looking around, the animation of the cauldron comes as a complete surprise to him and it quickly engulfs him in it's "mouth".
"Urf.....ye blasted pot, let go of me," he says trying to struggle free of its grasp.
His struggle is in vain though and, still trapped, his muffled voice comes from inside the cauldron, "Aye, the bloody pot is tryin' to squish me!".
He then feels Abelard's hand touch his leg and a strange warm stretching sensation starts to emanate from where he was touched, giving him a sense of increased strength.
Ethan calls upon the power of Erastil as he draws his club from his belt.
"Touch this cudgel with your power, Great Hunter," he whispers softly in prayer.
Merrick lets loose an arrow, which flies true and strikes the cauldron solidly, but achieves nothing beyond breaking into pieces on impact.
Abelard spends several seconds in concentration, casting a spell that seemingly does nothing - yet.
Boruk struggles mightily, but can't free himself from the grip of the animated cauldron.
Ethan's club glows as he calls on his god for aid.
Parundar moves to cure Boruk and his spell manages to heal some of Boruk's injury.
As if somehow sensing that the dwarf is in the process of growing too large to swallow, the cauldron seeks out a new meal, scuttling around Boruk's guard and making a savage attack against the lightly guarded Parundar.
Boruk suddenly doubles in size as Abelard's spell takes effect.
Unsure if his club will damage the cauldron, but concerned that it might crush Parundar, Ethan calls upon Erastil's power to infuse all in the area with healing light.
Boruk, delighted with his new increase in size, says "Haha, let's see ye try to eat me now, ye stupid lump of slag."
Seeing Parundar getting engulfed, Boruk moves over to grab the cauldron, trying to release Parundar, so as not to hurt him if he attacks the cauldron.
"Have a taste of yer own medicine."
"Boruk,I think the quickest way to get Parundar out is to break that pot wide open! Give that axe of yours a swing."
Abelard moves into a flanking position with Boruk and begins tapping on the cauldron with his quarterstaff in an attempt to distract the creature.
Parundar glares at the cauldron, trying to hex it, but since it has no mind (as such) it is completely unaffected.
Ethan's healing magic brings Parundar back to full health.
Boruk tries to grapple with the cauldron, but fails to get a good grip on it, even with Abelard's assistance.
Ignoring the various attacks, the cauldron lifts Parundar up, and swallows him in the manner of a pelican with a fish.
Parundar finds himself inside the cauldron, being thrown against its iron sides as the thing moves.
Hearing what Abelard, who is more knowledgeable about the arcane, has to say, Boruk stops trying to grapple with the cauldron and instead attacks with his axe.
"I'm good at breakin' things," he says with a chuckle.
Abelard, unable to do anything else useful, attempts to recall any vulnerability of this particular type of construct that might be exploited.
Ethan steps forward and swings at the cauldron with his enchanted club.
Upon recalling information about the construct, Abelard realizes that Boruk is likely the only member of the party with the ability to damage this creature at all. With the possibility of retreat looming large in his mind, Abelard begins to look around the room, attempting to locate the rat's tail.