[b]”It is corrupted, accordin’ to Morkam. It must be destroyed.”[b] says Ienmar. He picks up the adamantine axe head. He affixes it to a hard wooden handle, and smashes the adamantine weapon against the trident to destroy it.
The attempt does not yeild the effect you wished. Instead of digging in a chunk, the hand axe head begins to sprout from the rotted wood in the handle hole a new living tree!
"It's a sign... We can't destroy it. We have to take it with us, back to the elders."
With no other disscussions. All nooks and crannies of the altar area explored and overturned you note the moisture and slickness greatly reduced. What is it that the Brave Dwarves do?
Ienmar shakes his head, and snaps the fresh living tree bits away.
Ienmar then helps carry the wounded and rescued dwarves out.
"Let's go back ta' camp. Ironbeard will be waitin' for the good news ere we get to the Fortified Mines."
"Agreed."
"Agreed. We didn't come t'this land to hunt frogs, satisfyin' though that might be. Let's rejoin the caravan before something even MORE rude decides to ruin our trip."
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"We have everyone that was dwarf-napped?"
When you wake up Morkam he is ready to return.
You are packed and ready to go. You set back out and eventually catch back up with the other dwarves in the village.
Outside the cave is way different then when you left it. The water seems fresher, the air cleaner and various plants have began to sprout up. The mildew is gone and the mushrooms reduced. No frogmen seem to be in sight.
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Ienmar sets out into the cleared wilderness, careful to keep the trident head-up and pointing away from dwarf-flesh. As the world seems cleaner, he begins to sing a merry travel-tune.
"O'er the hills, o'er the streams,
"To homes warmed and hearths fired,
"Into stout halls with wooden beams,
"Our minds are wary, our feet tired,
"At home we we rest and sleep and fix our seams,
"and sink our armchairs mired!"
Krystid, desperate to be a bard, tries to harmonize with Ienmar.
"careful now lad; I aim to raise my own tavern. You keep that up I might just chain ya to the tavern wall and make ya sing for my guests."
Ienmar continues singing, smiling at Amber, until the party (and the rescued dwarves) finally return to the base camp.
As you walk back the way you have come you notice the land beginning to recover. Water has receeded and it fetidedness has receded and fresh water remains.
One of the older dwarves pauses. He tests the water and then smiles." We need to send word back to Hammerfast. This water ans set up is prime for rice. The halflings there know how to raise and process it."
"That's great news! It's amazing how powerful this trident is. I wonder what else it can do."
Ienmar nods, tossing the trident onto a cart.
Krystid stares at the trident, hypnotized by its untold power.
Ienmar studies the place, and then supports the caravan's efforts, describing the action and the fight with the giant frogs, as well as continuing his travel song. Dwarves loved to sing.
"The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the moon was seen~"
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With things finally looking up, Amber finds her singing voice. While she was nary the equal of any bard, she knew she could ring her own notes just fine, now that there was reason enough to sing.
"no chimney smoke, no hammers peal,
no mighty hands to yet forge steel~"
Taking my first level in BARD so I can sing with you.
Morkam marches along silently reflecting on what he could have done differently next time. He feels more confident in his abilities to both stay alive and help the others.