Lina falls back enough with Signy to avoid getting caught out now that they've got the scythe tree's attention, though she's happy to blunt the force of the thing's rampage if it manages to get clear of Brental's burning brambles while Meneas closes.
In the meantime, hoping it doesn't come to having to jump quickly out of the way herself, the witch sends an encouraging word and enchantment to her Caydenite friend.
"Not to worry, Signy, we've got this, especially with your arrows to cover us!"
The scythe tree attempts to to lurch forward, struggling desperately at the vines quickly reforming at its roots but the fire moves along with it, just as fast and with Signy and Brental adding more heat to the flames the once fearsome tree is quickly reduced to mere kindling.
It burns continuously for some time but after an hour the flames smolder and all that remains is a single face down tarot card among the wreckage.
Brental doesn't let the fire burn for longer than is necessary to clear out the rot and dryness. Once he sees that the scythe tree is well and truly down, the druid conjures a swift downpour to quench the flames.
Before he strides forward into the remnants of the fire-scarred battlefield, he pitches to his knees and lifts up his hands to the havens. "May this cleansing restore balance. And if there remains anything unbalanced as a result of this action, may my hands be guided to act appropriately."
The inferno that Brental calls down and stokes with more and more fire magic means that Lina can happily see the wicked snag of a tree stopped without ever being in danger herself. She is a bit jealous of just how much magic Brental can channel so easily, as he conjures water to keep the flames under control, but that ship has long sailed.
Instead, in the long while it takes for the sodden ashes to at least start drying out a bit, and after her own camouflage spell dissipates, returning her to her own coloration, Lina stares at the remains of the scythe tree with mingled doubt and triumphant malice.
Spotting the weird card left behind, the witch also catches her druid friend's warning look, but...
... the little mystery is just too much for her to resist. After the business with Carmine, though, and remembering the strange seed that Signy reappeared with, Lina has just enough presence of mind to cast a quick protection against mental meddling over herself and, with a second thought, Meneas, before curiously walking forward to see what's going on with that card.
She turns the card over to reveal the three of Cups. She considers the card for a moment before giving a shrug and showing what she's found to the others.
"I've never been much for divination either," she confesses. "You might think, with the illusions, I know, but these days..." the wave of her hand somehow summarizes the state of affairs following Aroden's disappearance, at least to the witch's apparent satisfaction. Honestly, the first thing that springs to the moony young elf's mind is that while her sweetheart could probably out-drink her two to one, she probably wouldn't use a second cup unless or until she switched to something else.
Meneas watches the tree burn with a wary air, before slowly sheathing his sword. When Brental unleashes the rain to extinguish the fire, he relaxes ever-so-slightly, exhaling his relief. He looks over the card, curious, but does not move to take it. Indeed, when Lina picks it up, he sighs in exasperation. "Was that wise, not knowing what it does?"
Signy, in keeping with her growing wariness of anything fey-tinged, would have been happy to leave the card on the ground for the crows or whatever wanted to collect it.
She frowns when Lina picks it up, and looks away so to not see it when Lina shows the card off.
"You shouldn't have done that Lina. We helped Tiressia and her problem is solved. We don't need to get in any deeper with this stuff. Messing around with a card that should have burned is only inviting trouble."
Brental raises his eyebrows at the minor castigations offered by Meneas and Signy. "It's not like she did so without protections," he observes. With Signy not wanting to look at it in spite of recognizing it as magical, it feels like they're close to identifying it, but too engrossed in bickering to pick up any more than auras and art.
The druid shrugs. "I've always been more one for dice than cards, so I'm afraid I'm at a loss. We can take it back with us and try to identify it later. And if we're cursed because of it, then we'll deal with it. For now, let's retrace our steps. Back to Tiressia to deliver the good news. Tomorrow we can help Melianse with her grove and then begin the trek back, picking up the statues we left behind at Carmine's abode. Between Corax and Grigori, it sounds like we might have enough challenges brewing back in Limen to keep us sufficiently busy for a while now that we've dealt with the most recent fey problems."
Just a reminder that there was a dryad you were looking for. You could also speak with Riftun if you would like to see if he has any plans. Oh, and there was the invitation to the book club for Lina and Signy if they so choose. Of course, your options are limitless these are just some suggested routes you could go down but I leave it up to you~
Oh, and there was the invitation to the book club for Lina and Signy if they so choose.
Meneas watches the tree burn with a wary air, before slowly sheathing his sword. When Brental unleashes the rain to extinguish the fire, he relaxes ever-so-slightly, exhaling his relief. He looks over the card, curious, but does not move to take it. Indeed, when Lina picks it up, he sighs in exasperation. "Was that wise, not knowing what it does?"
“Almost certainly not,” Lina says blithely, as she ruthlessly quashes a terrible, childish impulse to call out for any more Troubles lurking to join them from the woods.
She nods her thanks to Brental, and grows grave again as she does her best to spare some serious thought to best practices.
“I think we probably are the best equipped to deal with things like this, of the folk in the area. Better one of us than another lone wanderer like Kundal: we have a hope of sorting out the magic, and each other to watch for signs of something weird. I’m sure you’ll tell me if I suddenly get even more cruel and unusual. All things considered, I think I’m rather duty-bound to leave no leaf unturned, no?”
Noblesse oblige fits quite well, if a bit smugly, on Lina, if she does say so herself, and even as she regretfully considers the wet soot she’ll have to polish off her fancy boots presently.
“Though, in hindsight, I suppose I could have tucked it away sight unseen into my grimoire for looking at later in a safer place. I’m sure there must be magic to deal with such things,” she adds, the wheels already starting to turn. “Is there a cartomancer mixed up in all this? Then…”
She’s distracted, but Lina liked the most recent fey she and the others have most recently met, so it’s easy to steer her back towards rejoining Tiressia and her consort.
Meneas looks to his companions. "I agree with Brental. Let's go speak with our patroness and see what she knows of the strangeness that's been afflicting our lands." He flexes his fingers idly. "After that, we can return to Limen and see if there is anything that requires our attention - and possibly begin scouting the Candlemere."
Boats. I'm not too fond of boats...
The group set back about to their patron dryad after ensuring that the roaring inferno has indeed been smothered.
Tiressia greets the adventurers enthusiastically alongside Falchos who bounds up and squeezes the adventurers tightly and dances around them arms locked with his love.
"The forest has already told us well before you arrived! Oh the cursed scythe tree is gone! Gone I say! Oh I never thought I'd see the day!" Tiressia throws her head back and laughs musically. "Oh you truly are friend to the fey! And your kindness shall be met with kindness in turn, feel free to help yourselves to any of the knickknacks and do-dads we've piled up by my tree and you can count on Flachos and I to guard the Narlmarches and keep your kingdom appraised of any threats we discover within its borders."
"Still it doesn't feel like enough does it my dear?" Falchos shakes his head regrettably.
"B]"That it certainly does not." Tiressia pouts. "After all that you've done for us... If only there were some other way we could repay you?" Tiressia flutters her lashes at the gentlemen as Falchos proceeds to flex and waggle his eyebrows at the ladies.
Brental is glad to see Tiressia and Falchos, and even more glad to hear that they are keen to assist them in the monitoring of the Narlmarches for dangers. He chuckles at the not-so-subtle come-on. There was often plenty of such on offer at the Moot of Ages--men and women of all ages and races and creeds (perhaps encouraged by certain crushed and smoked herbs or choice mushrooms) willing, able, and enthusiastic to crawl atop a blanket of moss and *ahem*. (What happens at the Moot stays at the Moot. Druids with the capacity to wild shape could be quite creative.)
He had no inherent objections--the others had waited patiently while he had consorted with the iruxi harem that he had inherited following Vesket's swift, fiery decapitation. But he doesn't want to make any of his friends uncomfortable. He doesn't think that Lina and Alaïs have an open relationship; Signy could go either way; and he has no idea whether Meneas would consider this anathema to his order or the trust expression of his duties. Brental gently demures.
---
Meneas looks to his companions. "Lady, sir, I ask this of you. Do you know anything about recent events concerning your fellow fey? We have encountered a number of strange events that seem to have origins in the First World - or at least, in some of its inhabitants."
Lina tucks the card away for safekeeping with comparative nonchalance, murmuring in reassurance mostly to herself on the way back to check in with Tiressia and Falchos about good omens and friendship, bolstered bonds… “Unless, of course, the card was originally a promise between that blasted ympe of a tree and someone that pointed it at our hosts here. Then again, let’s not jump at shadows! After all –”
The gleeful response to their deed well done lets her put her witchy mumblings – and a brief burst of nervous laughter – behind her for now. The fey pair’s generosity is marvellous and not anything that Lina wants to take advantage of, but who better to ask than a dryad, especially with the lead-in Meneas offers with his apt question.
“You’re too kind,” she nods after the knight. “And we understand that there are some secrets that aren’t for us mortals – so mum’s the word about any particular rings and hollow hills and such! – but like Meneas said, more things and more people seem to be, er, crossing over than we’re used to. A plant here, an errant sprite there – even a tower that we’re fairly sure wasn’t there before! Are we imagining things, or are our Good Neighbours … excited about something?”
She avoids saying “up to” or “in a tizzy about” or “fabulously planning” because she’s likely to be caught between hurting the fey’s feelings or alarming her friends by encouraging the faeries.
"Still it doesn't feel like enough does it my dear?" Falchos shakes his head regrettably.
"B]"That it certainly does not." Tiressia pouts. "After all that you've done for us... If only there were some other way we could repay you?" Tiressia flutters her lashes at the gentlemen as Falchos proceeds to flex and waggle his eyebrows at the ladies.
Instead, Lina moves right along, albeit tentatively, to: “Oh, I hate to ask, since you’ve been so gracious already, but –“
“I can’t think of who else would know – do you know if there’s a wyrwood tree at all nearby that could bear and be convinced to part with a length of root suitable for a stout spear? Brental and I would do our very best to be careful, of course, and something so closely tied to life magic would be both a symbol and a strong support in our efforts to defend these forests and all who dwell within them.”
Brental bows his head deeply as Lina makes her request. Wyroot would be a tremendous boon to a hexcrafter of Lina's talent.
There were some druidic circles who monitored the trade in blackwood, darkwood, greenwood, living steel, paueliel, whipwood, and wyroot to ensure that the trees from which materials were gathered were not harvested to ruin. However those circles began, they tended to become one of two groups. The first muscled their way into taking over the trade entirely, becoming enmeshed with the local government and markets to regulate everything. The second eschewed cooperation in favor of brutal executions of anyone who dared to harvest a tree without explicit, one-time permission.
For better or worse, the Oakstewards were relatively rare in their integration with the local government. Helikia was following a similar pattern to them with regards to the development of natural resources, in no small part because of Brental's training. The Wildwood Lodge down in Taldor, hosts of the annual Moot of Ages, were another circle that oversaw the limited logging of blackwood trees in the Verduran Forest. Most others, though, had grown sick of the predations of civilization and opted for violence. Brental didn't entirely blame them either.
"We're well aware of the tendencies of mortals towards such natural beauty. Hopefully our work to right wrongs in these woods will prove that we are different."
With Tiressia and Falchos offering up, um, what she's thinks they're offering up, Signy starts feeling a little awkward. Tiressia is lovely, no doubt, but that's really not who Signy is. Falchos? Yikes!
She isn't sure which is worse, completely ignoring their flirtations, or making an excuse. But given to talking as she is, if Signy is going to err it will be by saying something.
"Uh, I have a boyfriend..." she mutters quietly. It might even be true; she'll have to remember to check for mail when she gets back to town.
Signy tries changing the subject.
"So... there is this thing that happened to me. It was really strange and I don't know what it was about. Maybe you'll understand some of it, or know why it happened?"
"You see, I was just minding my own business when a gigantic bird snatched me up in its talon and carried me off...
Signy tells the whole story, from her abduction, to the lost time and her lost memory, to the strange seed. She tells the tale intensely and conspiratorially, as if she's divulging a great secret. In a way she is, the whole episode is something she's largely put out of her mind and never talks about. But, if she can get some answers or theories, she'll tell them about it with all her skill as a storyteller.
Signy’s story reminds Lina of just how much they’re up against, and she decides to be candid with Tiressia and Falchos.
“Someone – I’m tempted to guess the same someone – also turned and set a werewolf into our midst,” the witch adds, sharing what happened with Kundal. “Could this certain someone also have steered the scythe tree in your direction. I don’t mean to pry – and if there are other reasons that you might want to keep quiet, we understand! – but Tyg and Peri said…”
Lina frowns, trying to remember the news Meneas brought back with him. “Well, they were mysterious, and frightened. Something about a once and future queen? Or a consort with ambitions to take a throne in her own right? Was that it? If you can’t say anything, as Signy asked, is there someone who can, or someplace that could provide … another perspective?”
She does her best to be circumspect about it, and convey that they'll happily take a pointer to another plausibly deniable clue if Tiressia and Falchos are being watched as well as threatened, but Lina can't quite keep all the curiosity out of her voice.