Genryl and Khabash lead the way toward the building, picking their way through the abundant undergrowth carefully. Thin mist begins to creep into the clearing from the trees, though it only protrudes a short ways before dissipating.
The Pathfinders slowly make their way through the tangled vines, ever watchful for signs of danger. Suddenly, a spooky chuckle stops them in their tracks. Genryl watches in horror as sinister flames sprout from one of the many pumpkins in the patch before the gourd begins to grow taller and taller until it is perched on a humanoid form!
The pumpkin creature chuckles again as it steps closer, and a shiver runs down the explorers' spines...
...and Eranhu, Zornesk, and Khabash can't shake the feeling! Once more the creature chuckles, and the sinister fire burning in its hollow eyes bursts forth in a gout of flame!
Eranahu and Khabash duck and avoid the worst of the heat, but Genryl, Spar, and Zornesk are not as quick on their feet.
It's a jack-o'-lantern - and a mighty fine specimen at that! As this one has demonstrated, these plants prefer to hide in vegetation before ambushing their victims with their fiery breath and fearful aura. They also are very spiteful creatures - a few seconds after a jack-o'-lantern has been killed, its pumpkin head will explode in a burst of flame! Their limbs trail pumpkin vines as well, twitching eagerly for the chance to entangle the jack-o'-lantern's prey and grasp at their mouth so they can't say a word until it releases their corpse.
It's a jack-o'-lantern - and a mighty fine specimen at that! As this one has demonstrated, these plants prefer to hide in vegetation before ambushing their victims with their fiery breath and fearful aura. They also are very spiteful creatures - a few seconds after a jack-o'-lantern has been killed, its pumpkin head will explode in a burst of flame! Their limbs trail pumpkin vines as well, twitching eagerly for the chance to entangle the jack-o'-lantern's prey and grasp at their mouth so they can't say a word until it releases their corpse.
It's a jack-o'-lantern - and a mighty fine specimen at that! Their limbs trail pumpkin vines, twitching eagerly for the chance to entangle the jack-o'-lantern's prey and grasp at their mouth so they can't say a word until it releases their corpse.
It's a jack-o'-lantern - and a mighty fine specimen at that! As this one has demonstrated, these plants prefer to hide in vegetation before ambushing their victims with their fiery breath and fearful aura.
Round 1! Bold may act!
Khabash (-1, Shaken)
Spar (-3)
Zornesk (-3, Shaken)
MacDurmot
Eranahu (-1, Shaken)
Genryl (-3)
Orange
The pumpkin howls as an arrow strikes it in the forehead, then falls to the ground as acid burns holes in its leaves.
Round 1! Bold may act!
Khabash (-1, Shaken)
Spar (-3)
Zornesk (-3, Shaken)
MacDurmot
Eranahu (-1, Shaken)
Genryl (-3)
Orange (-16)
The pumpkin-head quivers slightly on the ground, then explodes in a burst of flaming spores!
The kobold trips on the underbrush as he tries to dodge the explosion and takes the full brunt of the heat. But as the embers fall to the ground, only the Pathfinders are left moving in the grove.
The sound of footsteps alert the Pathfinders as a handsome woman wearing crocus-emblazoned armor steps into view in the doorway of the ruined mill. Her cascade of red hair catches the light - as does the silver lance held easily in her hand - but her face is concealed by the cowl she has pulled over it.
“Take ye not a step further into Ng’s sacred realm," she orders, a fox-like tail swishing behind her. "I am the Crocus Knight, sworn protector of the Thicket of Endless Fall and rightful successor to Ng’s chosen, Zaul Blystone. Are you here to join in the grove’s protection, or defile its splendor? Speak now, lest I add you to the great harvest.” She points her lance at each of the Pathfinders in turn.
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Khabash stares at the woman's garb for a moment longer than politeness would allow before clearing his throat and speaking.
"We are Pathfinders, charged with investigating the history of the Society. We mean no harm to the Grove, and would be very grateful for any insights and answers you might provide."
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As soon as the pumpkin head explodes, Genryl gathers everyone around and pulls out his holy symbol. He raises it up and a wave of energy, that for all intents and purposes looks like a wave of sparkling wine, washes out from the symbol and over everyone gathered. Bubbles start to form over wounds, pulling the pain and leaving healed flesh behind as they rise to the surface.
He then takes a swig of his wineskin and trundles up to the building with everyone.
He gives the woman a slightly puzzled look, and then comments as a way of testing her reaction, "Are you why the plants here are growing so unusually? It's rare to see thickets this thick and persnickety without some kind of guidance. Anyways we are here tacking the history of the Pathfinder Society we heard there was something to do with them in this grove. I personally would never abide defiling the plants of a place, as my goddess would likely smite me herself. Though, I don't know how much we can help in aiding it's protection.... Would you like to chat about it over some wine?"
The Crocus Knight's frown softens, but the tip of her lance still points at the Pathfinders. "Ye speak kindly of the works of nature, but what if this be but a trick? Speak, that I might know whether thou art worthy of mine trust or desecraters not worthy of mine blade - though thou shalt find little mercy in that judgement."
Zornesk tries to follow up on MacDurmot's and Spar's points...
...and does a passable job of not putting his foot in his mouth.
The Crocus Knight listens to the kobold, then frowns in thought as Khabash speaks again. "If what ye say is true, then I welcome ye as friends to the Thicket of Endless Fall. I bid thee to pay thine respects to our lord Ng." She rests the point of the lance on the ground and gestures with her other hand at a large wooden statue of a hooded form protruding from the front of the mill. "It was he who created the Thicket, and it is in his name I have protected it these many long years."
A pile of pumpkins and bright red berries sit on the ground before the hooded figure, and above them words are carved into the statue's base.
"Like the Lord of Seasons, our hoods illuminate truth while their masks shelter deceit. Let this be the sign of our covenant. - E"
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MacDermot turns up the hood of his cloak and folds his hands before him solemnly.
The Crocus Knight watches with interest as one by one the Pathfinders raise their hoods in a similar fashion as her own. "I am glad you are able to make more sense of the gnome's prayer than I was able," she announces with a smile. "She didst say it would be helpful for allies of the grove in the future, but I myself was ne'er able to grasp its meaning. Truly, thou art allies of the grove. Mine duty to guard this place is fulfilled, and I bid thee farewell!" She gathers her cloak around her, then pauses.
"I wouldst be remise in mine duties if I did not leave Ng's divine gift with the grove's new defenders," she declares, pulling the robe of leaves from her shoulders and setting it on the ground before the statue. "As Zaul Blystone passed this mark of duty to me, so I now pass it to you. Fare thee well, guardians!" She turns, her foxlike tail swishing excitedly as she marches through the brambles and into the trees. Without her cloak, a jagged woody hole is clearly visible on her back.
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Eranahu scratches the back of his neck. "Sure looks like an Autumn Cowl. Should one of us wear it?" He asks, looking to the others. "And he called us the new guardians. You think we are stuck here? Certainly are worse places to be stuck. Who knows. Might be our new calling, he?" Eranahu seems to warm to the idea of becoming a 'protector' of a place of nature, such as this.
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Genryl watches everyone as they pull up their hoods and...
Follows suit as he pulls up the blood red hood of his cloak, hardened plates of leather all along the inside, making it not quite sit right on his head.
The dwarf-like man then steps forward and looks at the cowl, using a wave of his hand and a flick of wine to see that it is magical, though he can determine little beyond that. "Eranahu is at least partially right it seems magical. And probably not cursed as our fried was able to wear it and remove it without troubles. Anyone want to try it? I'm not sure how Halcamora would view me using something intimately tied to another deity though."
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Distracted, the alchemist doesn't say anything while the rest of the party debates donning the Cowl. He comes back to himself with a shake of his head. "I have an idea...it may be wrong. It seems to fit the facts we have, though. Eranahu, tell us if you notice anything when you put on the Cowl.
"The huldra spoke glowingly of Zaul Blystone, hailing him as the chosen of Ng. Eylysia did not trust him, though, and suspected that he brought a fake 'Autumn's Cowl' back to Absalom. Well, we know that is true--the real Cowl is here. Suppose Blystone didn't trust the Decemvirate with it? That carving--perhaps the 'E' is Eylysia? So she came here, investigated, and ultimately agreed with Blystone--at least, the inscription speaks of a covenant. This would seem to be what we came for, but we should explore the grove further."
Eranahu swings the cowl across his shoulders, but doesn't feel any different as the resplendent leaves rustle with his movements. The Pathfinders investigate the rest of the abandoned mill, but find little of interest beyond a few intricate carvings the Crocus Knight apparently had been whittling to stave off boredom. With few other options, they depart the grove.
The mist seems to be thinner on the trip back, the ominous feeling of being watched not quite as strong as during the inward journey. As the sun starts to settle towards the horizon, the adventurers emerge from the thicket back into the more-familiar trees of the Arthfell Forest. "Yoohoo!" a warm voice calls, and they turn to see Adelyn Rhinon next to a fire where a thick stew bubbles. "Were you successful? Did you put their spirits to rest? Come, bring your bowl and tell me what happened, and I will share nature's bounty with you." She ladles out forest mushrooms and herbs as she waits for a response.
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Genryl keeps an eye on Eranahu t make sure that the cloak isn't having an adverse effect on him on the way back to the meeting point. He does offer to share something to drink along the way with anyone wanting.
As they get back to camp, Genryl moves right up to the stew and takes a deep breathe. "That smells amazing... Hrmm I think a Malbec would go great with this... Hrmm and you could add a splash or two for some depth if you want. But before that, thank you for getting a stew together for us! It looks and smells positively delicious!"
He sits down with a glass of wine and a bowl of stew, and then adds, "Zornesk covered most of it pretty well. We made contact with the spirits and convinced them we meant no harm, or had to deal with one that wasn't willing to converse. We were able to get what we came for, Eranahu is wearing it over there."
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Khabash doesn't quite roll his eyes. They're leaving out the important parts! How do they expect people to know what happened? "They're right, but they missed some details. There was a shrine within to Ng, one of the Eldest. The entity we met was a huldra, a sort of fey, and not really a spirit. She left us with the item there, Autumn's Cowl, and a charge to guard the Grove. Obviously we can't do that. Is that a duty you would accept? We would leave the Cowl with you."
Adelyn looks surprised and then thoughtful at Khabash's revelations. Wiping a bit of stew from the side of her mouth, she holds out a hand. "I will admit I have never heard of such a thing, though it certainly sounds as though it would have a close tie to the natural world," she answers slowly. "May I examine it more closely?"
The druid runs her hands along the silk-sewed leaves of the autumn's cowl and closes her eyes. A small gust of wind makes the dying fire flicker, but otherwise the encampment is quiet as she works. After a few seconds, she speaks. "Indeed. There is the comforting feeling of crisp air from beneath the comfort of warm fur contained within, and the delight of wind through falling leaves." She opens her eyes. "I agree with your assessment, Pathfinders - if left in one place for too long without proper warding, it very well could influence its surroundings to reflect itself. Alas, I do not have the skill to create such protections. Speaking of which..."
Adelyn rises to her feet and hands the cowl back to Eranahu, then walks smoothly through the thick underbrush towards the wall of thorns nearby. Even from a distance, the green fire dancing around her hands is visible in the last dregs of the sunset - but only Spar, Genryl, and Zornesk can see how the wall of vines quivers and begins to melt from a vertical stance to a more natural ground covering. Adelyn dusts her hands and returns to the fireside. "It will take a bit of time to undo the protections I have spend years cultivating, but I must admit it will be a relief to see more of these woods than this small stretch again," she admits. "Please, stay by my fire tonight and we shall both go our separate ways in the morn."
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The journey back to Absalom was smooth sailing - literally in this case, as favorable winds caught their schooner's sails without break and dolphins frolicked in the waves off the bow. The ship's captain, a quiet undine, merely smiled and waved as the Pathfinders walked down the gangplank and made their way back through the city at the center of the world to the Grand Lodge. Inside, a new recruit quickly pointed them to a small library and told them the Master of Scrolls was expecting them.
Kreighton Shaine rises and smiles as the adventurers enter. "You've returned - excellent! And you have all the clues needed to unlock Eylysia's final message, correct? Come, no time to lose!" He beckons the other Pathfinders to follow him as he deftly flits through the crowded halls of the Grand Lodge towards one of the older wings of the building. "Based on your reports, I've brought what I could to what we think was- well, best not to put the dragon before the egg. We'll see soon enough, I hope." He makes it around one more corner before his excitement gets the best of him. "Oh, it can't hurt to tell you - we think we've found the site of Eylysia's final confrontation here at the Lodge before her sudden disappearance, and we're hoping she might have left a message - a message your recent discoveries could help us unlock!" He hurries down a flight of stairs, pausing at the bottom for his companions to catch up before taking off once more. "Oh, and apparently this research has caught the attention of the Decemvirate - they informed me that some members will be in attendance." He stops before a large door make of oak with heavy iron fittings. "Ah, here we are! Are you ready?"