Much as he wants to give deference to Saraon, Ronan has a hard time keeping his mouth shut with stubborn people. "What'd convince y'all?" he asks. "A bit o' truth-detecting magic whilst ye question us? Physical stuff? Swearin' on some holy book or whatnot? Service to yer cause? Cuz ye've heard yer man's testimony. He's got no reason to lie."
Ronan shakes his head, keenly aware that his appearance dressed in the trappings of the Old World could very well cause them to mistrust him. "Look, I know y'all look at some'n like me 'n assume I don't give two s!&#s about the nat'ral world. Ye might think all the Rust Saints jes wanna strip the land of what little resources she has left to give. But thas not me. Jes ask those here what all I've done since they met me."
He holds his hands out. "Ye wanna know what I believe? Repsect where it's due, Elder Gorsk; I dunno how far back yer family mem'ry goes. But I hear whispers from folk what's been dead fer a long, long time. They tell me about the world 'fore the Wastes. 'Fore the Calamity. Way back when, our technology weren't all opposed to nature, but worked alongside it. I ain' try'na convince ye to pick up a gun or learn computin' or whatever, but...we want sim'lar ends. Don' dismiss Saraon on my account."
Saraon stands, the group's purpose clear.
"Thank you, Elders," he says with a bow. "We'll talk more later."
As they go their separate ways, he tells the group about the other Elders and their roles here.
"Perhaps we should speak to the three who weren't present here first. I know you'll probably want to talk to Grimple anyway, Sprig: as his interests are the ones you'd be most likely able to help."
Ronan grumbles. "I didn' expect such hostility to jes talkin'," he says. "Sorry if I overstepped, Saraon."
Sprig shrugged. "Some folk jes' ain't interested in talkin'. Ah think it didn't matter what we had t' say, he just wanted us t' leave. Probably could have said we found the secrets of th' World Tree, an' he'd still turn us away." The lizard let out a little laugh.
"Certainly met mah fair share of those on The Mountain." he said with a little shake of his head.
To Saraon he said,"Hmm, Ah'm fine with talkin' with Grimple or Berrind to be honest. Ah've always had a connection with earth magic, an' mah new fertilizer is just as much about good soil as it is the plants growin' in it."
He looked around at the crew. "Ah suppose Ah'd ask where each of us'd like to go, though Ah suppose we could just visit each one in turn..."
"I reckon I'd like to talk to Deytha Barkbiter. Waterfolk and Samsaran tend to get along all right."
"You didn't Ronan, Elder Gorsk has just always been "like that," so to speak," Saraon replies with a shrug. Then he nods to Sprig.
"Indeed. Let's go!"
He begins leading the group to Deytha's part of the Grove.
"I mean, last one I met, 'fore Saraon that is, was gruff as could be. But he did give a fair shake. Save me afta' all." Katheryn pointed out with a shrug.
"I'll follow your lead, Saraon." Hezekh says, happy to follow the druid's lead for now.
The party heads on towards Deytha's area of the Glade.
Following the streams that feed the ponds scattered throughout the Glade leads the group up to a large stockade made from horizontal logs from which several channels run out.
Based on the odd construction, the stockade is almost certainly a dam, rather than any defensive structure. Several unmasked students bustle around, carrying logs and working magic to fend off any corruption that might seep into the water from the land.
Standing atop the dam is a halfling with a wooden beaver mask, grey hair in a tight bun visible under her mask. She quickly clambers down, extending a hand to nobody in particular as she greets the group. Her voice is surprisingly gravelly but well enunciated, "Well, hey there, youngsters. Name's Deytha Barkbiter, though I'm guessin' you've probably heard already. If you need water, we got it! If you wanna help lug some logs, we've got a new set of channels we're tryin' to get built. Anything else, well, I'll do my best to spare some time."
Saraon waves to Deytha as they approach the dam.
"Deytha! A merry meeting!" he calls.
As Saraon does not take the extended hand or make introductions, Ronan takes the beaver-masked halfling's hand with a gentle smile.
"I imagine you know our Mr. Duskdragon here, but I don' rightly know how much whispers of our arrival have rippled out through the waves of the Glade. My companions can introduce 'emselves, but I was special keen to meetcha. Name's Ronan Del'Arte. An' let's see...luggin' logs? Well, y'seem like a busy woman, so how's about we save any other business for when yer labor's lightened to gain more time to spare?"
Ronan does not look like the strongest sort, but neither is he frail. So even if he doesn't look like the type to be able to lift a bundle of logs, he portrays an air of confidence that suggests he's ready to work.
Hezekh tips his hat to the beaver-masked druid. "If'n you'd be so kind as to point me in the direction of the logs that need shiftin', I'd be happy to get right on that." Hezekh says, glad to have the opportunity to let others do the talking and make himself useful in other ways.
Deytha nods to Ronan, "Good to meet you then, Ronan. And fine to see you again, Saraon. How's life out the grove treating you?"
She turns to Hezekh, "Spirits, if my pupils were as eager to help as you, we'd have those channels built in no time."
She motions for the party to follow and begins clambering up the dam. A large lake is held back by it, and for some of you it may be the largest body of water you've seen. Small huts are built around it, some seemingly used for residence, others for crafting or teaching.
Following the path around the dam, Deytha shows the party a large pile of logs.
Ronan gives a small salute and clambers up the dam. Deytha seems remarkably spry, and Ronan admires her spirit! And the view. Why, it's absolutely inspiring.
Not keen to pull a muscle working the logs, Ronan looks at the materials gathered around and starts planning work on a device to carry and stabilize logs for the stronger folk in the group to wedge into place. It would almost certainly be temporary at best, but with a bit of manpower he'd be able to get it built in no time at all!
He pulls out his trust any-tool and gets to work, eyes gleaming with the possibilities.
Hezekh surveys the resources, nods a few times to himself, then gets to work putting a contraption together to make things easier for them. "Somebody remind me to prep Bull's Strength tomorrow." he says, to no one in particular.
Saraon nods, watching as Hezekh and Ronan collaborate.
"It's been eye-opening, Elder. It reveals the sheer scope of what our work is meant to help. And it's revealed some very dark truths...ones a lot closer to home than I expected."
Sprig doesn't have the strength or the spells to truly help, so instead he pulls a rope from his pack and ties it around a log. With one big loop of rope to pull from, it should hopefully be easier to drag the lumber.
The kobold waves over his longtime companion. "Hey Bas, Ah think we're gonna need a little yer muscle! Can't let Hezekh and Ronan do all the work!"
Surprising even himself, Sprig was able to find a few good points of leverage and make do with even his meager strength.
”Sprig, maybe you could grease the bottom of the log for us?” Hezekh suggests.
Sprig nodded. "Good idea Hezekh! Ah only prepared a couple castin's but it should help!"
With a few words and a snap of his claw, the kobold casts Grease on a few logs.
Saraon watches for Deytha's reaction to his words. It would help him figure out how to proceed with wording his request.
Ronan and Hezekh put their heads together and whip together a truly impressive sledge. Sprig's grease spell goes a long way to helping with that as well, easing the passage of the logs. This makes it an absolute breeze for Bas to haul them to where Deytha had wanted.
Deytha gives a broad smile to Saraon, "Well, you know you're always welcome home..." Her smile fades as Saraon's words sink in, "Hold a moment. What do you mean by dark truths?"
"All, da use on the road and of non' here." Katheryn signed to herself.
Ronan and Hezekh put their heads together and whip together a truly impressive sledge. Sprig's grease spell goes a long way to helping with that as well, easing the passage of the logs. This makes it an absolute breeze for Bas to haul them to where Deytha had wanted.
Deytha gives a broad smile to Saraon, "Well, you know you're always welcome home..." Her smile fades as Saraon's words sink in, "Hold a moment. What do you mean by dark truths?"
"The big reason I've returned so soon is because my friends and I discovered a madman who, through foul technology and magic, had apparently survived the cataclysms that made the world what it is today. We returned him to the Cycle of life and death naturally, but in doing so we discovered he wasn't alone. There are other sites, with people worse than him, who have plans for something called 'Gaia.' One of these sites is hidden in the mountains just outside the Grove. I came back to warn the Grove in case our becoming involved has awakened something, like wasps swarming to protect their hive. I could not let you be caught unawares. Of course, Elder Gorsk is skeptical, and seemingly only the words of you and the other Elders will convince him of the danger."
He then fills in any details Deytha asks for and answers her questions to the best of his ability.
Sprig doesn't have the strength or the spells to truly help, so instead he pulls a rope from his pack and ties it around a log. With one big loop of rope to pull from, it should hopefully be easier to drag the lumber.
The kobold waves over his longtime companion. "Hey Bas, Ah think we're gonna need a little yer muscle! Can't let Hezekh and Ronan do all the work!"
Surprising even himself, Sprig was able to find a few good points of leverage and make do with even his meager strength.
He startled to shaking his head and grinning slightly. Lost in his thoughts. Dark ones... He shook off the annoyances of his mind wandering instead nodded to sprig.
"On it Boss."
He set his stuff down and cracked his neck waving his arms in a circle as if to loosen them up. Then he moved to help with the logs and conveyances to move the logs a bit easier.
Bas gets to lugging. Tough and sturdy as always, Bas is able to help tailor the sledge to his specifications and lug the logs like it's nobody's business. Deytha seems extremely pleased.
The druid's eyes widen at Saraon's description of events, "Spirits...that's a frightening thought. Well, you all have done right by me, and even got to working before asking any favors. Now Gorsk's a stubborn old bastard but his heart should be in the right place if we can beat some sense into him. When he comes calling, I'll support y'all. You can count on that."
Deytha seems impressed by the party's work ethic and will gladly lend her support. Three more Elders might need convinvcing, those being Grimple Thundercroak, Berrind Starnose, and Jade Bull.
"Thank ye kindly, Miss Deytha," Ronan says. Withdrawing a bit further away, Ronan confers with the others. "Let's try Grimple Thundercroak next."
"Indeed, thank you," Saraon says, bowing politely.
Leaving Deytha's watery domain, the party heads towards Grimple Thundercroak's section of the Glade.
They call a large and well-cultivated orchard home, laid out in somewhat haphazard patterns that they claim follow strict but ancient principles of druidic symbology. None of the druids agree with Grimple's take on this, but they're perhaps the finest botanist across the Barrens.
Even before Grimple gets in eyeshot, the party can hear them pretty clearly, [bigger]"Dig! Dig! Dig! Let's get these saplings planted! This new enchantment won't hold for long, and this might be our best one yet! Let's go, go, go!"
As the party makes their way deeper into the orchard, the genius of Grimple's design for it becomes clear. Clover blankets the floor of the orchard, while smaller shrubs make natural paths through dense thickets of berry hedges. Tubers grow in abundance on the ground, while open spaces are filled with corn, beans, and squash growing together.
The party winds their way deeper into the orchard, eventually reaching the center. In the middle of a large meadow, a toad-masked gnome directs a group of a dozen or so novice druids with friendly but bellowing commands and sharp, erratic hand motions.
The novices glance at the party, but Grimple themself seems to not even have slightly noticed the group.
Approaching, Ronan calls to his vision the base magic that allows him to assess magical auras, curious as he is of what sort of magic Grimple is employing here.
He hopes to use this knowledge to assist, if he can, or at least to demonstrate to the gnome host that he understands what's going on here in spite of his mechanism-laden appearance.
Hezekh takes a similar tack, casting Detect Magic to examine what exactly is going on.
Ronan is fairly certain that this is some form of a plant growth spell, though likely targeted to single plants rather than a whole area.
Hezekh, for his part, detects transmutation magic which strongly supports Ronan's theory.
"Hey-there-ho-there, Grimple!" Saraon calls. "A merry meeting! What's the project you're working on here?"
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Ronan smiles. What wonderful magic! It was the sort that he was not capable of producing. His particular abilities with plants either focused on the manipulation of what was already there or the rapid growth. Neither was sustainable long term. This was the sort of spell work that folk in the before times sought to emulate through careful processes.
And that was the funny thing about technology: it was easy in the Barrens to look at the giant scraps of twisted metal jutting from the landscape and consider that technology. But no: this, what Grimple and Deytha were doing, was technology. Agriculture. Systematic treatment. Knowledge of the craft, lost across the eons and rediscovered here.
Yes. He could be happy here.
As Saraon calls out to them, Grimple practically jumps out of surprise. Their voice is powerfully loud as they turn towards the party,
They take a moment to catch their breath, adjusting their wooden toad mask that had gotten askew. As is common for gnomes, they are a riot of bright colors. Their lightly green-tinted skin has patches of what seems like moss or algae growing on it, and their deep purple dreadlocks seem to not just have flowers braided into it, but a few flowers seem to actually grow from them.
Still loud but toned down a bit, they address the party, "Well, well, well, well, what brings the Duskdragon and his merry band to my corner of the Glade? If it's plants you want, I can oblige. If it's to harangue me into some new project, I've already got one of my own! Anything else...ah, well, jury's still out."
"Truth be told, we're lookin' to scrounge up some support for a venture of our own, but we can talk our own business while we help you with yours, if'n that's all right."
Ronan bows as he introduces himself. "Ronan Del'Arte atcher service. Thas some mighty fine plant growth you're fixin' up here."
"How do you go 'bout gettin' them to stay?" Katheryn asked curiously as she looked at their dreadlocks, carefully examining the flowers without touching. "They do be mighty nice!"
Saraon jumps a little himself at Grimple's tone. He'd forgotten the gnome's stentorian voice and the need to not stand so close to him if you valued your hearing.
"Yes, we were looking to make things a little easier for you."
Sprig was busying himself with examining the soil around the garden, pondering to himself about the various minerals and the concentrations of spiritual energies that he found were so important to the growth of healthy wildlife.
This was, by far, some of the richest soil he'd ever encountered and it excited the mind in ways that only someone who'd devoted years of his life to studying alchemical fertilization methods might be so enthralled.
It certainly beat the soil of The Mountain, which, though rich in volcanic minerals, hadn't been attended to with the level of care of a master druid.
He wondered how Berrind's plot might differ from Gimple's, but the gnome's loud voice shook him free of his thoughts and the kobold jumped with a start.
He smiled a little, no need to look frightened, it was just a loud noise. "Ah gotta say, th' arrangement of the crops is somethin' of a marvel. Ah can't quite understand how yew managed t' keep so many plants woven in such harmony. It's a pleasure t' meet a master of th' craft!"
It was also refreshing to meet someone roughly the same height, but that was kept to himself.
Sprig extends a claw to shake.
Having little to add himself, Hezekh nods along as the others talk, thumbs hooked in his belt.
Grimple tones their voice down a bit to reply to Katherine, but it's still a powerful near-shout as the gnome speaks, "Just like any good druidcraft! Careful attention to what the flowers need and rigorous maintenance if they don't get it! This is my best run of them yet. The flytrap I tried to plant once ended disastrously enough I almost gave up, but there's no fun in that!"
Seeing another their height, Grimple gives Sprig a firm handshake, "That I am! Some of the other druids don't see things the way I do, but it's far from my fault if they don't understand it."
They look around at the members of the group as they address the party, "I've heard that you're hopin' to convince Gorsk of something and that's fine and dandy in my book. I could use a smidge of help, though. That flytrap I mentioned earlier, well, I seem to have lost it. I planted it somewhere in my grove here, and when I went back to check on it...well, it's up and gone. Now, I'm no stranger to the weirder side of how plants work, especially when magic gets involved. I'd like you to track it down for me. If you can bring it back, I'll throw in an extra something something for you."
Hezekh starts looking around for signs on uprooted plant and tracks that might show where it went. Not 100% sure what, err...plant tracks might look like, but I'll figure it out.
"We've encountered walking trees before, this shouldn't be a problem," Saraon says, a smirk in his voice.
"I take it ye'd prefer yer flytrap returned in one piece, eh?" Ronan clarifies. "More or less, less or more."
Ronan knows a spell that will help them track the flytrap down. But convincing it of anything? Transporting it? Incapacitating it? That could be a bit trickier.
But they could try. Once they found it in the first place, it oughtn't be too hard to try to speak with it. Eventually, he and Saraon might even be able to charm them, but he didn't think either of them were ready to do that sort of wonder yet.
Actually, Saraon might already be able to speak with the flytrap, or could with a bit of preparation.
But until then, it was time to start looking.
Hezekh, with Ronan's help, is able to find a large pit in the earth, about ten feet wide and five feet deep or so. Faint traces of roots can be spotted inside it, and large drag marks and clods of earth and rock lead away from the hole, deeper into the forest.