Oh, pretty flower petals. Where does the trail go? Teegor wonders to himself. He starts to collect the flower petals one at a time as he follows the trail away from his companions.
Impressed by the way he's speaking, Mark lets Nestis take the lead for now.
"Eh? Fadder? Ye don't look like no bastid o' mine," the old man says before spitting off to the said. "Sounds like sum bard s!!%e way o' talkin' 'bout some lily-white lady's titties. Bet e'en 'em small'uns they wears gem-crusteded"
This is a crotchety old man who's a trapper and a huntsman, and a not too bright one at that. You might have better luck asking about where the grove these plums were said to be located in is.
The greengrocer comes out and walks up to you, her face mottled red and white in rage. She stops only a few feet from you. It's strange that she doesn't seem afraid by the display you give, demonstrating the futility of trying to kill you.
"You know, I wonder if drow can get embarrassed," she says, her voice seething. She lunges at you. Her hands taloned as she appears to go for your throat.
Following the trail, you collect enough petals to fill one of your hands. It ends in a small clearing with the stump of a long dead tree in the center. On it sits a single lily with petals that start out white at the throat and turn blue near the tips. Tied to it with a blue ribbon is a note.
Hello, I know this is a little strange, but I saw you admiring the bouquet I put together. Did you really think it was pretty? Do live around here?
-A little flower girl
Underneath this is a charcoal pencil and a piece of parchment.
You catch someone peeking out from behind one of the trees. When they notice that you see them, they duck back into their hiding spot.
Mark laughs at the man's discussion of female anatomy and says "be that as it may, two gods fearing men such as ourselves have no reason not to help one another. For example, I have, at current, an excess of gold coins on my person that are heavy and weighing me down. You have an excess of knowledge that weighs on your mind. I suggest that we lift each other's burdens."
"Bardic ways or no, we would very much like to know where a grove of amethyst plums could be found."
Teegor swivels his head to unsuccessfully look around the small clearing. He slowly sounds out each syllable of the note aloud, because reading is difficult for him.
He nods his head yes when he finishes the question about the beauty of the flowers. And, shakes his head no when he reads the question about his origin.
He ties up the note with the blue ribbon and a smile and tucks it into a pocket. He quickly surveys the clearing again and starts to head back the way he came.
You easily sidestep the grocer's lunge, but something tells you her aim wasn't for your throat, but your shoulders. She stumbles past you. Her feet slip out of the clogs as she tries to keep her balance. She's pretty much at your mercy at this point.
"Eh, too much fancy talkin' fer me. If'n yer lookin' fer 'em fancy plums, yer lookin' fer tha Haunted Grove," he says, the name of the place followed by a lightning strike and dramatic music that seems to come from nowhere. "It's 'bout five hours trip up on the north road. Tha one that goes through 'em woods. Follow that and turn when you find a path leadin' past two big ol' oaks growin' together like an arch. If ye never come here again and pay me a few hundred gold, I'll tell no ones where ya went. Deal?"
The pigeon coos at you and puffs up its breast feathers.
You are a lowly hyooooman. How can you be king of the pigeons?
The voice sounds insufferably smug in your head. As you look about, you see other birds, and not just pigeons. There are raptors, wrens, and owls. It is clear that the usurper is not cowed by your presence. Perhaps it is time you branched out. Perhaps you need to remember you true glory.
You pause in your survey of the clearing for a moment. It sounded like someone very excited went "squee," but the sound passed too quickly for you to know where it came from. Your trip back goes without incident. Every now and then you catch the sweet scents of flower blossoms, herbs, and fruit.
You put a little too much spice on this one and blow the woman's foot to tiny bits. She screams bloody murder as she clutches her leg and falls to the ground.
"You b$~*&! I was just getting you back for stripping me! You blew my f$@&ing foot off," she bellows. She then launched into a profanity saturated stream of vitriol aimed at you, drow, and pretty girls in general.
Of course, you have other problems to worry about, like how the flesh of your torso is starting to peel away from your skeleton like a banana peel from the meat of the fruit. Probably wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't causing the wrens in your lungs to make a racket and your right arm to start moving in a way that is quite worrisome.
During your stand off with the pigeon, you hear someone down the trail in a lot of pain and very unhappy about it judging from the screams and profanity.
You hear a crack of magical energy and hear someone scream in pain before loosing a tirade of profanity. It actually sounds kinda like Mark when he's in a mood.
"Sorry old timer, I ain't got that much. Here's 10 gold though, on account of how helpful you were." Mark nods then leaves the man's fields, only pausing for Nestis to make his farewells and rejoin him.
Teegor looks around for the source of the scream of pain and tirade of profanity.
"Thank you, goodbye, and have another ten gold.", Nestis says as he hands over ten gold and makes his way after Mark.
"Where the f@#k did the others get off to?" Mark asks.
"That is an excellent question. Let's see if there's tracks."
Nestis proceeds to look for said tracks.
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You manage to find your trail back to the others with a little difficult. The old man was making moonshine strong enough that just the smell makes you a little tipsy. There was also a misadventure with a squirrel and a pixie on the way back, but that is a tale for another time. You find the wagon, nursing mild hangovers, and see Nilelane covering a peacefully sleeping woman with a horse blanket.
You follow the sound and find Nilelane covering the body of a woman with a horse blanket. From your vantage in the trees, you can see where something bloody happened from the streaks on the ground.
The woman doesn't even have time to say anything before the long sleep of death takes her. Looking at her, she appears to be in her late twenties, though human ages are always so hard to measure. The wrens fall silent at your coaxing, thankfully leaving you in blessed quiet while you work, though you can't shake the feeling of someone glaring daggers into your back. Daggers that feel uncomfortably real. Reaching back you yank one out with no idea when it got there, but judging from the rust it had been a while.
Ah well, accidents do happen, the mouse's voice sounds in your head.
Just as you finish covering the corpse of the woman up, the feeling of daggers in your back still there, you see Mark and Nestis coming towards you.
All around you, the whispers of "The King," come from a thousand birds. The pigeons land and bow. The hawks and falcons nod their heads in greeting, and the wrens sing a song to welcome you to the woods. The usurper, however, only looks on in shock.
"No! This cannot be! He lies. He lies," he squawks in protest.
"My king, shall we deal with the imposter," a dove with an eye patch asks.
"Nilelane! We have a location for the plums. About five hours trip up on the north road, through woods. We follow that and turn when we find a path leading past two big old oaks growing together like an arch. Where are Corso and Teegor?"
"Who was she?" asks the bugbear henchman to the dead drow.
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"Right. One of our distractions. Let's find Corso."
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Teegor grunts in reply to Nilelane, "that's happened to me, too."
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"Very well, my liege," the dove replies. When you look back to the usurper, he has fled. It's also about now that you notice the other members of your party.
"Are you going to eat tthhhhosssse," Soot asks, pointing to the pigeons at your feet.
"Corso, what are you doing gathering avians? We have directions."
Nestis looks at all the birds in motion.
"A pity that they're airborne. They never taste as good as those that stay on the ground."
"Anyway, good work getting scouts, Corso."
50 - 33 - 10 - 4 - 3
"I'm not even going to f@%kin' touch that." says Mark.
"We got directions from a rather @$$hole farmer. Then again" says Mark with a shrug "I'd be a might testy if some armed and handsomer looking people walked up on my land too."
"We absolutely need to get moving. Soot and co can surely return the cart, assuming they aren't ambushed by vengeful townsfolk. The rest of us can split up. Who's fastest on their feet? Probably Teegor."
Nestis glances over at the body, and suddenly feels hungry.
He pulls a chunk of raw meat from a pouch and pops it into his mouth.
"UNWRDS!", he says, pointing towards the direction of the grove, with a full mouth.
Mark just shakes his head and keeps walking towards the grove.
You bid farewell to the kobolds who promise to take the food you have gotten back to the lair with an update on your progress. It takes them longer than one would think as they load up the corpse of the greengrocer onto the wagon once you are well out of sight. After all, why waste a healthy meal?
The hours seem to drag as you wend your way through the forest. The music of songbirds, the occasional babble of a brook being the only sounds you hear beyond your own footsteps and conversations. It is, by all accounts, an uneventful trip for the most part, perhaps even relaxing after the mayhem at the market.
If only you could shake this feeling you have of someone glaring daggers at Nilelane.