Eyes locked on the Wyrm to maintain the truce, Odelai hears the bloody tenor of most of the group. With a mix of disappointment and anger, she says coldly, ”I see… Don’t expect me to agree with your decision. Nor will I be forsworn and attack this creature. Do as you will and accept the consequences.”
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"There are people whose lives we are trying to save. We should waste time hunting to appease a predator that tried to kill one of use and will gladly do so again the moment we turn away? Why?" Elowen replies, unsettled by Odelai's desire to show servitude to the Tatzlewyrm.
"It resembles a dragon so you kneel to it? It is a hunter. Sometimes hunters choose the wrong prey. If they survive, they learn their mistake. Such is nature."
"Kneel to it?" She rolls the phrase around her mouth for a moment. "Ah. If you want to pick a fight with me, do so at a more convenient time." She bobs her head, indicating the Wyrm, "That is the fight you've chosen today. I'm not going to ease your conscience by starting it. And I strongly recommend you don't wait for the Wyrm to pick the moment. You might want to send someone to fetch Penelope. I have no idea how much of a fight you can expect from this creature. That might also pacify the wyrm and convince it you are upholding the bargain." Having said all she can to both maintain her word to the Wyrm and do her duty to her traveling companions, she falls silent.
Blinking slowly and glancing at the each person when they start talking. Growling but curling closer to the trunk. Large slitted eyes dart around the edge of the clearing before snapping back to Odedai.
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Sir Pounce moves, together with Jenkins and Svetlana to Odelais position.
Lizard with delusions of grandeur It says with a tail flick
Did you break your brain when you came out of your egg? Or is that redundant anyway? I dont want to fight you because, seriously, I get indigestion from eating overripe eggs like you but if you move at my pet human you will meet my claws. It continues by barfing up a furball into the general direction of the Tatzlwurm.
Jenkin finishes strapping on his armor. Just in case this is where things are going. "Be back with Penny, with or without meat..." he says in a low voice, then heads out following her. "Penelope?" he softly calls out, figuring she can't have gotten too far in the minutes it took to don his armor. "Um... maybe don't bother with getting food? Svetlana and Elowen are more inclined to un-dragon this part of the forest. Odelai isn't happy about that, but won't interfere."
Penelope's head straightens from her hand and knee investigation of a den in a tree. Her bright eyes find Jenkin, and she seems to relax from the steel tension in her shoulders. "It didn't eat you." she stands, brushing the dirt off of her knees and joins him. "Can't we just leave then, now that you are free?" she says, as she gets closer, just now noticing the bleeding wound on him. "Heavan on toast, why didn't they heal you?"
She slips off her bag, finds her guardian's snack bag, along with the remaining scrolls, then pulls it out. "Hold... still..." she leans in to read, then presses her hand against his chest.
"We still need to get the moss from this tree." Elowen says quiet;y, not taking her eyes from the tatzlewyrm or lowering the thorn spear in her hand.
I did heal him, thats why he is walking!
Jenkin backs off. "Whoah, wait, don't waste that on me yet. Save it for an emergency when Svetlana can't do her thing. And I can fight like I am, if I have to, maybe save any more healing in case someone needs it worse after the dragon."
Penelope stops midchant, giving him a look that says she completely disagrees. One that the 'slightly' judgy Penelope gives a lot. Then sighs. "Okay, but if the thing goes after you cause you the food most prepared, be ready for me to pepper you with I Told You So's" she does seem worried though.
The two rush back then.
"I didn't find anything." the half elf admits when they arrive, which would have been a miracle to have done so in such a short time, but she still sounds disappointed.
Looking around and hissing again But it doesn't have the jump on anyone. So many eyes are staring at an ambush predator. Licking its lips before quickly scampering up the tree.
Penelope does not fire. Shooting a retreating enemy is quite beyond her the boundaries of morality. She keeps an arrow notched just in case "Do we have the moss we need?"
"We need more, and we're wasting time like this, if we can't scare it off enough to safely gather the moss, then we need to take it down." Elowen says, cocking her arm back and hurling the thorny javelin at the draconic creature.
The javelin finds it target with practiced ease and is now jutting out of the tatzlwyrm's side. A sound reminiscent of a pissed off cat tears its way out of the wyrm's throat followed by an unpleasant looking green bile.
[ooc[ It is sickened. Gonna give others a chance to act before it goes. [/ooc]
Svetlana and pounce move in front of the ranged attackers, claws at the ready.
Jenkin shrugs, draws his own bow, and lets an arrow fly. "Alright, guess we're doing this..."
"...did I mention I'm better with axes?"
Penelope does not fire, she just nocks and waits.
Erastil teaches preemptive killing of a creature that is dangerous to the community is not an abhorrent act, but this is both intelligent and far enough for the village so she can't bring herself to do it.
Unless it chooses to attack instead of flee.
Twisting so the javelin is no longer facing you all and its injury is theoretically hidden. Hissing at the second shot and crawling a few feet higher. Currently the wyrm is injured and realizes its out numbers. So it remains in the Eldar for the moment.
Svetlana grabs the moss, with Sir Pounce at her side.
The tiger looking at the Tatzlwyrm with a gaze of absolutely unadultered feline disdain, as it proceeds to mark the elder tree as his, in the way a cat normally does.
If not interrupted, it flicks its tail dismissively and wanders off together with her favorite 2 legged vasall.
Penelope spares a glance at Sir Pounce, a smile softening her face, then says "Now that we have the moss, we can go, yes?" Penelope holds her bow at the ready, and starts to back up slowly. (unless no one comes with her of course).
"Sure, guess that's that then..." Jenkin says as he lowers his own bow and follows Penelope's withdrawal.
"Definitely." Elowen says, taking in the majesty of the great tree one more time, and moving back before turning away, the tatzlwyrm already disregarded as she begins plotting their course toward the forest witch's hut.
Yellow eyes watch you all walk away from high up in the Forest Elder. Tension is high but now one ingredient has been tucked into a bag. One step closer to hopefully keep people from dying. It's only a few hours to get to where Ulizmila's hut should be.
Odelai withdraws with due caution and follows along after Penelope.
Penelope is too busy checking on their rear to help find where to take them in their front.
Knowing the depths of the forest as well as the back of her own hand, Elowen is completely at home, leading her companions with ease toward Ulizmila's hut, even making up time and managing to gather wild berries and edible mushrooms along the way.
You ok Jenkin? If you feel any lingering poison or whatever, just speak up. My healing is something I can do a couple of times per day, its not a big deal to use it.
The Oracle asks, somewhat sheepishly even.
Hours pass by with Elowen in the lead. The noise of birds is a constant sound. Below that is the noise of buzzing insects. Natures orchestra playing around you. The temperature starts to drop as the sun is going to be setting in an hour.
The noise fades the further you all walk. And it is commonly known that if animals avoid a place its likely not safe to visit. And that is precisely where you all are heading.
Abruptly the trees part into a almost perfectly circular glade. A mixture of pine, elm, and darkwoods which are typically sturdy but now seem to bend away. Despite their roots they seem to want to flee the numerous figures in the clearing.
A dozen small thatched fetishes—each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent—stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a ugly cottage. Twigs, shoots, and ivy cover mud and old wood walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes.
The door lays broken in the entryway. And the macabre windchimes make an unpleasant noise in the absence of the birds.
Well, now that nobody else is in danger of being eaten by a dragon, I could probably use a little more healing just to patch up this shoulder wound. Thanks for what you already did, by the way," he says as the group strolls along. "Might have just been meat for the dragon otherwise."
After arriving at what is presumably the old witch's hut, he lets out a low whistle. "I guess this place could be creepier, but we haven't seen the inside yet..."
Odelai scans the area and ‘defenses’ dispassionately while quietly casting a spell. She smiles at Jenkin’s comment and offers drily, ”Homey.” Dealing with another witch was always a risky proposition – often you were greeted as a long-lost sister or a bitter rival.
"This is...definitely it. Never actually entered the clearing before." Elowen says quietly, as she studies the area intently.
THe broken door worries Penelope, "She might be hurt." her eyes quickly scan the ground to see if people had been here before them.
See Jenkin, that should fix it!
Svetlana smiles as her healing magiks work better this time around.
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You all are more aware of the sound of your breathing. Nature is loud and has drown out most noises. But its so quiet here. The little fennec whimpers and looks up at Elowen with wide eyes.
So many things still make noise though. The wind moves fabric on the fetishes and knocks bones together. But the house seems still. Overgrown plants could mean its abandoned or its part of the aesthetic. The fetishes might have once been magic. Protective wards perhaps but that seems to have faded.
Odelai hrmphs. ”Every indication is that this spot has been abandoned.” Her skepticism is clear. ”I’ll test the theory.”
The little gnome raps loudly on a nearby tree with her cane several times. ”Hello? Ulizmila, are you home? We seek your counsel.”
Odelai slowly advances towards the center of the yard, eyes skinned for signs of movement or trouble.
Elowen crouches dow, running her fingers through the little fox's fur and scratching behind its ears comfortingly, while keeping her eyes trained on the hut.
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Penelope wants to have an arrow out, ready to fight if the moment calls for it. But she feels if someone nice if here, and the first thing they see is an arrow pointed at them, they could stop being nice.
So etiquette wins over preparedness.
The silence remains. Odelai as you pass closer to the gruesome fetishes you can see bits of dried flesh on the antlered skull and the dark browns on the fabric of the more traditional scarecrow is clearly old blood.
The fennec stays pressed agains Elowen's ankle. The wind picks up again and it starts to grow darker as clouds begin creeping across the sky.
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"I'll go check" Penny Pinch cannot wait, just in case there is someone in danger, though the odds of that is ever increasingly low. Plus last time one of them went to check their shoulder was nearly eaten, and Penelope would much rather herself be in danger than someone else.
So... she hurries toward the broken door, slowing down once there. She even tries to be a little quiet.
But she isn't. There are twigs and leaves and belts and buckles, and even a wincing uttering of "darnation"
Guard the Fennec Svetlana pats the Tiger and looks at the Fennec, and the tiger pretty gladly protects the Fennec rather then moving closer.
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Jenkin is grateful when the last of his bite wound is eliminated, but also a little disappointed. "What, it's gone, just like that? I don't get a cool scar?" he says, yanking down his shirt collar to look at the newly-unblemished flesh. "Oh, well, plenty more chances for that, I guess..." he says with resignation.
At the (abandoned?) hut, he follows behind Penelope in the yard, hands on an axe handle but not yet drawn. Given that her footsteps are making snapping and rustling noises as she tries and fails to walk quietly, he doesn't even bother with the pretense of silence.
The fetishes are each unique. A sun bleached rams skull, a homemake scarecrow that is stained with blood, a deer skull with the spine still attacked and strips of dried flesh still clinging to it, each unpleasant to look at and each of them showing signs of age.
The door is broken, well more like it was snapped or burst through. There is a broken and dry fountain. Barrels cracked open and full of dead grass fill the space near the door. And it is dark inside the little cottage
There are some edgy witches whose healing leaves scars, and I have heard some oracles with well... unusual sources of power have to be rather hands on when it comes to healing, but as far as I know, my power does not come from some Succubus queen so.
Alexandra peeks inside the cottage, switching her eyes to easily pierce the darkness while detecting magic. She does not yet cross the threshold.
Inside, the cottage is dank, reeking, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice.
A rusted iron cauldron, with a mouth nearly 5 feet wide and a depth of at least 3 feet its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering
fiends and leering devils. Across from the door, against the far walls, stands a highbacked chair made of wicker, the gigantic, curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of human teeth.
There is a feeling of magic here. Though that makes a fair bit of sense as you are in the entryway of a witches home.
Penelope looks around the other woman "Is that a chair... made of human teeth?" the shock in her voice is thick. Pausing only a second longer, she pulls an arrow out of her quiver and sets it to the bowstring. Preparedness NOW more important than etiquette.
"Erastil guide me please" she whispered, hoping her diety sees fit to allow her to detect evil.