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In the morning there is a folded sheet under Visna's door. A small poem written with a precise hand and a small sketch of river stone in an ever-moving stream.
Pen smiles at the warrior when she sees her "Good morning" she offers the same greeting to all, but the light color in her ears is only for Visna.
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At the tree, Pen uses her senses to search for magical auras and her knowledge to help decipher them.
Briar deduces that this plant is likely a variant of a corpseroot. Corpseroots are rotten, undead trees that grow bright-red poisonous fruit. These cunning killers drain the life from creatures through their root systems, posing as dead trees until their victims come within reach. While these undead resist bludgeoning and piercing weapons, they are weak to both fire and to damage from axes!
Visna's step is light that morning, her ebullience undimmed by hardship or by horrid surroundings. "Though we tread here, it shall not be us to whom Grief comes.
Eyeing the rotten trees with a practiced glance, she adds "Maiden's Smile has not supped so long on other foes that she has forgotten the bite of bark."
Pen nods, simple and quick, and makes the group faster for the death of a tree.
Most corpseroots blight other plants in the area around them, but this one seems to lack that ability. Additionally, this ones sickly fruits cause those struck to bleed from their pores rather than become poisoned.
Once you have prepared yourselves, you start to rush the tree!
But it reacts before you can reach it! It hurls its bloody pears at you! Miraculously, all of the pears miss, splattering harmlessly in the garden around you!
Visna ducks the arc of the pears, her axe blurring in a scything strike into its tainted bark.
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Briar charges forward alongside Visna dodging the foul fruit on her way up to the tree, and although the Kholo doesn't have a weapon quite so keen on tearing down trees she chops at it regardless.
Something about the foul thing reminds her of hone and sends a pang of guilt and unease through her gullet, and the barbarian keeps her temper under wraps.
With arcane words, raised staff, and fanned fingers, Pen brings winter to the tree.
Then she raises her staff to protect herself from poisoned fruit
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Knowing that his weapons won't be very effective against the plant, Belmont instead grimly swaggers towards it with his gun on display in an attempt to intimidate it. He succeeds in frightening the corpseroot.
This allows Visna to hit with her snagging strike, her axe biting into the tree's bark and exploiting its vulnerability. She grabs a hold of the huge tree, her experience with wrestling titans coming in handy!
Briar moves in and slices the tree twice. Pen's polar ray hits the grabbed and frightened tree, scoring a critical hit! Ice coats the tree's trunk.
Despite its grievous injuries, the tree strikes back, managing to hit Visna once. Still, it doesn't look like it will be able to take much more punishment.
The gleam off Visna's Last Coin shines as her good fortune helps her roll with the tree's strike , but she just smiles through the brief jolt, and resumes hewing her way through the foul tree!
Visna's axes make swift work of the tree. With its defeat, you are able to claim the five remaining fruits hanging from its branches. Each of these fruits functions as a major elixir of life. Additionally, amid the bones in the center of the garden lies an alicorn, once the horn of a storykin unicorn who lived in the garden, that now works as a wand of continuation (phantom steed, 6th level), summoning a steed that resembles a winged unicorn.
The garden continues ahead of you.
Pen stores the fruit in her satchel "Maybe we could plant these in our lands? "[b]See if with proper care, the tree can be... better?" an odd spring of whimsy from the practical Pen.
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Briar nods, "I shall see what I can do. I believe I know a spot where they might find purchase without endangering any of the folk."
She takes the lead further into the garden and stoops next to the Alicorn, "A shame such a fantastical beast died here." tucking a few bones into her pouch the kholo rises and delves deeper into the mess of weeds and foliage.
At the far end of the garden, twisted trees and briar-clad thickets open to a forum of stone pillars, many broken or toppled. Amid them is a crumbling stone dais, stained with old blood. At the platform’s center sits a spiked iron throne. Beaten into it are a shield, a longsword, a hatchet head, and an amulet, all with a similar stylized winged sigil.
A shadow-shrouded velstrac in spiked full plate sits on the throne, watching you calmly as you approach. His hateful eyes glow with red light, and a heavy war flail rests on his lap. "I congratulate you on what must surely be your latest triumph against the Blood-Pear Tree. But the time has come for you to lay down your arms and submit to your new mistress, Sonnorae. Perhaps you will be reborn, as I have been."
Visna smiles in cold amusement. "Think you that mere blandishments are all the coin that is needful for us to turn over our own heartwood to shadow and pain? Speak your name and your purpose if you would have those words echo in our memories instead of simply the hereafter."
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Briarthorn takes her place protectively ahead of Pen and Belmont, confident that Visna can hold her own as before. Though there is a slight worry to her since she was felled by the strange creature before.
"Twisted and sickened branches are naught but a poor blockade as well. For one schooled in the Eldest sister's teachings."
She pulls out one of the unicorn bones holding it between her thumb and index, "Sullying the bones of one so ancient and pure sits ill with me and is proven forfeiture of your life. Reveal your damned master wolf and let us all be done with this farce."
"My name?" the fiend asks, then chuckles darkly. "I am... I was... Algon the Ever-Keeping. Once a paladin, now a warden of this prison plane. You are destined to be prisoners here, whether you know it or not!"
He stands and readies his flail!
Before you can react, Algon channels the fury of divinity into a blast of energy that assaults you! He then grabs a set of barbed manacles from his belt and hurls them at Briar. He scores a critical hit, the manacles biting into the kholo's arms and legs, leaving bleeding wounds behind as they try to shackle her!
Success: The manacles distract the creature, causing it to become flat-footed until the end of its next turn.
Failure: The manacles fuse in place and bind the creature's legs and arms until it Escapes (DC 40) or the manacles are destroyed.
Critical Failure: As failure, but the creature is also restrained.
A two-legged creature with its legs bound takes a –15-foot circumstance penalty to its Speeds, and a two-handed creature with its wrists bound has to succeed at a DC 5 flat check any time it uses a manipulate action or else that action fails.
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Briar quickly spreads her limbs already straining the shackles ability to pull and lock her. While they throw her off-guard for a moment they do not have time to bind completely as the barbarian strains to keep her limbs apart.
Blood vessels burst from the kholo and she quickly expands to outgrow her own skin, bursting the shackles. Transforming, for the first time Belmont has seen, into a towering quadrepedal Hyena. Striding towards the would be jailer jsut shy of entering a bloodfrenzy.
Pen's insides twist in nausea as her skin splits in agony. But she keeps to her feet, points her staff into the air, hand to the enemy and wills for him to be gone.
Visna bows her head, and the velstrac's divine wrath shatters around her. With a brief glance to the side, she smiles. "Fret not, my Pen. This fiend shall not long trouble us."
The shadows hide Algon's secrets from Visna, so she traces a runic representation across the palm of her gauntlet. It shall be enough. Darting forward with a speed that belies her size, Visna cracks her gauntlet into the side of the velstrac's head with a resounding clang!
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For most of what had happened, Belmont had been following familiar motions and actions.
He knew when to dodge, he knew when to shoot and he knew when to hold his tongue like a good card hand.
Now, he snapped out of it. A Talking Tree that just made him roll his eyes, raise his gun and-
*KABOOM*
The Pistol echoes Belmont's boredom.
"Blah, Blah! Blah! Tell it to my tail you righteous pain in the arse!"
Visna moves in and snags Algon with her axe, the silver blade slicing deeply into vulnerable flesh. Belmont fires his gun, scoring a critical hit as the bullet buries itself in the former paladin's chest. Pen's disintegrate beam severely wounds the fiend as Briar transforms into a hulking hyena and moves in.
Algon swingsh his flail at Visna, bashing her twice!
Last Coin gleaming in the air as Visna flicks it up and above her head, she simply slugs the fiend with her silver gauntlet, hauling it in close and trusting to her fortune and the war flail's reach to keep her safe.
Seeing the fiend's flail crash into her Visna... (the words thought cause the briefest of distraction)... makes Pen abandon practical resource preservation. Another bolt of unnerving green tears the air to remove the offending creature from existence.
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So far, it had been a rather bloody fight for the group.
Yet so far, nobody was dead.
Belmont quickly rushes into some form of cover, aware that what he was doing could be seen as cowardly to some. Did he care?
He reloaded his pistol as he run, popped out and then, opened fire with a single shot towards the fallen Paladin.
Visna misses with her first punch, but hits with her follow-up, the silver gauntlet exacerbating Algon's grievous wounds. Though the fiend resists Pen's distinegrate spell this time, it still injures him. Briar's fangs rip and tear at the velstrac, then Belmont dashes forward and fires a bullet into Algon's head! It's enough to finish off the fiend, who goes limp in Visna's grasp as black blood pours from his fatal wounds.
The former paladin has a +2 greater resilient full plate and +2 greater striking war flail. Next to the throne in a large, unlocked iron box are some of Algon’s old belongings, including a major sturdy shield, and a holy avenger!
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Witnessing the end of the Fallen Paladin by his own hand, Belmont blinked a few times, looked to his gun then threw his arms up into the air in victory.
"WOO! YEAH! EAT IT! WHOSE A CRAPTASTIC DEAD PALADIN?! WHOSE STILL ROCKING?!" exclaimed the Tiefling as he reloaded his gun, holstered it and then kicked the giant tree before he started to check out the throne. He then looked towards the Iron Box, opening it and letting off a low whistle.
"Whoa." exclaimed Belmont as he pulled out the Longsword in the Box, investigating it over before spinning it in his hand and clasping it like a trained fighter.
"Now this looks like a sword doesn't it!" he asked, showing off the Holy Avenger to the rest of the party. "Anyone mind if I keep it?"
Visna can't help but wince, but acquiesces. "A blade such as that holds its own wyrd; who can say what path it is meant to walk down for a time."
"I do not" Pen says simply, stating the obvious since all he has ever seen her do is wield her staff and magic. Pen had only paused a moment before she was in front of Visna, gently touching the reddening lump that is now her cheek, her eyes crinkled in concern. Her other hand brushes off this and that from the warrior's armor.
Apparently being the object of the elf's affection comes with a tad bit of mothering.
There is a flash of a smile though accompanying it, as if she realizes it herself but cannot stop.
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The giant Hyena that is Briar knocks away the now corpse of the fallen champion and sniffs both Visna and Pen, casting a bit of an eye towards Belmont, unable to answer in her current massive form.
She offers a brush of her muzzle to the two women before slinking off to check the area, as much as a twenty foot tall Hyena can slink.
Once the transformation ends she returns to the group, "A fine blade... I would be glad for you to have a proper weapon to defend yourself. Aside from the fire sticks. Let us return and seek the next portal shortly."
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"You'll get no Argument from me!"
After sticking the sword and it's sheath onto his belt, Belmont checks over the war flail and then looks it over. It wasn't a weapon that he liked to use but he could probably sell it for a good profit.
And with profit, meant cash for cards.
He then looked to Briarthorn and raises an eyebrow "Also, I have a fine weapon!" He pats the Clan Pistol that he carried in his Bandolier "It's just gonna get better!"
You return to the Harrow Court to rest up and employ the talents of the many beings that dwell there to redistribute runes and enhance your equipment in preparation for the next sortie!
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For his downtime, Belmont switches out some runes within his arsenal.
He pulls out the Greater Striking Rune from the War Flail and slots it into his Clan Pistol. He then pulls the Striking Rune from his Rapier and puts it into his Gunner's Bandolier. He then sells the War Flail And the Rapier off to a trader in the city.
After informing the party of where he was going to go, he steps through the portal to Alkenstar, He then spends 15 Gold at a trader to buy A dueling pistol and a second hand crossbow. He then spends two gold coins to buy at least thirty bullets and thirty bolts for his Crossbows and his pistols, ensuring he has enough to slot into his Gunner's Bandolier.
Once he is done, he returns to the group, armed to the teeth with pistols and his new Holy Avenger.
"Alright! Where to next?" the Tiefling asked as he starts to attune his pistols to his bandolier. "I'm locked, cocked and ready to roll!"
Once you are ready, you return to the Harrowed Realm via portal to the Fleshworks. The air at this manor carries the scent of blood and grease. Spiked iron reinforces the corners, the eaves, the doors, and the tall chimneys. Heated air rises from these stacks. A wash of dark crimson has been painted over the peeling exterior. Black bars and boards cover the windows.
Pieces of mannequins hang from chains or are impaled on spikes in the foyer. Some have macabre fleshy or metallic additions. A few bleed. Three complete statues depict a monstrous humanlike woman in various dance poses, her mouth open as if singing or screaming. Her long, pale locks darken to crimson toward the tips. She dresses in a bizarre, painful-looking harness of leather and iron. Some of her skin is flayed, some of her bones exposed. Her mouth has oversized fangs and a thick, pale tongue, and her eyes resemble clockwork mechanisms. One of the statues holds her harness open, revealing a withered heart cabled into a bloody hole in her chest. Words in blood mark the wall and the scent of it hangs in the air. The words read, in Varisian, "Interlopers shall be consumed."
Visna looks around, chilled by the deeply macabre surroundings. "I know that devotees may see an artistry in this, but I see no beauty in such suffering. Who would claim such works?"
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Briar snorts at the display and the reek of it all. "I have known many displays most civilized people would consider savage, but even this is barbaric in terms of depravity. I would hope that we can end the tornent of the denezins of this realm quickly."
She points at the statue with the bare heart, "I suspect that will be the particular 'lord' of this segment of the foul place."
"It is wrong." Pen says simply. She lets her eyes shift to a glow, taking in magic in the area.
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Belmont almost retches as he sees the horror show before him.
He holds his nose as the smell of stale blood and rotten grease begins to assault his senses. He looked toward the statue and the words that marked the wall.
He frowned as he tried to read them before he looked to the Statue.
"I bet I can hit that from here." he remarked, drawing out his Clan Pistol and aiming it at the bare hearted chest. His clawed finger kept off the trigger as he judges the distance.
"What do we say? Ten gold? Twenty? Thirty?"
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Pen, while practical, collects data in all things. Chance is just another piece of fate, so she steps up looks at the target and says simply "Ten"
Deciding not to shoot the macabre artwork, you proceed through the halls of this twisted place. More tortured statues hang in these halls among iron spikes, chains, and implements. Here and there, patches of undifferentiated flesh and pools of blood seem to well up between the floorboards or panels on the wall, giving the place the smell of fresh slaughter.
As you proceed cautiously, you spot a door with some light visible around its frame. Beyond the door is an orderly bedchamber that smells of sandalwood, perhaps from the oil lamp lighting it. It also contains two beds, one human sized and one much larger, along with a wardrobe and a workbench lined with odd tools.
A matronly dwarf woman is here, gazing wistfully at the curtained window. When she sees you, her eyes widen, and she ushers you into the room quickly and quietly. "Are you heroes? Have you come to make things right?" she asks eagerly.
Visna smiles, eyes twinkling with the hope that something other than horrors still dwell here. "It is our purpose and our fate, ma'am."
"My name is Molly. I'm a midwife by trade. I was so focused on my work when those horrible monsters invaded this realm that I didn't notice until it was far too late. This was once a lovely place, but it has been corrupted beyond recognition! The only saving grace is that the velstracs that have taken over hardly pay me any mind at all. Just as I was unobtrusive before, I remain forgettable now. To my boon, it would seem.
"The ruler of this realm is a woman named Sonnorae. She's made her new home in a mobile keep called the Striding Fortress. I don't know how deep her corruption has become, but if anyone knows how to undo what's happened to the realm, it would be her!"
Pen gives a soft smile at Briar and Visna's response. Pen would never classify herself as a hero, but heartily would agree they are. "Where is it?" she asks about the fortress "Any information would be useful."
"Well, not too long ago, a sudden pulse of magic power swept through the Harrowed Realm, leaving the Striding Fortress in shambles up to the north near Ticktock Peak. You'll likely find Sonnorae there.
"More immediately, though, my old boss dwells here. The velstracs have changed my dar Marzalee into a monster. You should avoid the central room or risk drawing her ire. If you must confront her, though, I beg you to put her out of her misery quickly. I remember when she was just a giant, talking, motherly ant! Now I shudder to think what misery her life has become!"
Molly admits that she can’t be of much help herself, but can gift you a fair amount of magical supplies she’s gathered over the years. This includes six greater healing potions, three panaceas, and a set of greater marvelous medicines. But the greatest gift she offers is a mysterious item that recently appeared in her collection of medical tools: The Midwife.
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Briar nods and goes over the suploes the dwarf is giving them, they don't really need the additional medical supplies, but this world seems quite lacking in natural flora so it will have to do to supplement their own stocks.
She bows her head deeply to the midwife, "Thank you, both for the information and the supplies. We will do what we can to restore or cleanse this place. And to free your once beloved Marzalee."
Pen slips the card into her deck with a small smile. "Marzalee was an ant?" at first the wizard assumed the other woman said aunt, but in reaccessing the conversation she thinks Pen herself was mistaken about the verbal mistake and it was in fact meant to be ant. "Do you know of any way to return her to her ant form?"
"Is this a working you can unmake, my Pen?"