Alessandria is about ready to set the foliar treatise on fire just so the patterns will change, but she still manages to wring some meaning out of them.
After several more days of research, you discover more about Ghorus's work. One of the more insidious creations to come out of Ghorus’s Garden were tainted seeds, which the Goroth Lodge scattered throughout Taldor’s countryside. When watered, they sprouted into dangerous fungal creatures called cythnophorians, which infected and killed a host, took possession of its corpse, and fed on it as they spread their spores. Despite their power, Ghorus considered the cythnophorian seed pods a clumsy weapon and crafted other weapons with similar powers that could be better directed.
Chief among these items was the Cythbikian staff that, when plunged into the ground, spread a fungal network across a vast area. This fungal network coiled around any living creatures present and forced them to attack and kill everything nearby‚ wielding them like conscious, living puppets.
You can continue to do more research, or you can seek out the dweomercat Felivaine to try to find out what he remembers about Ghorus.
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"Wowzer, that's quite a staff!" Wispil comments when they pool their knowledge. "I wonder if that cat guy ever heard of it?"
"Like, that sounds awful," Kilitsi says, mimicking retching a few times as she thinks about what that staff would be like. "Hopefully, it's like as lost as the Wildwood Lodge."
"A horror, but one that can be overcome... We should find this cat."
Eilwith Glen is a steep, narrow valley filled with towering, moss-covered trees and old growth. Berry bushes grow along the banks of a river that lazily flows down the valley’s center. Eilwith Glen is the demesne of Felivaine, an immortal and capricious dweomercat who once belonged to the Goroth Lodge.
It isn't long before entering the glen when a voice calls out from above. "Well, well, well," the voice purrs. Looking up, you see Felivaine lounging in the branches of an ancient tree. He stands and stretches, digging his claws into the bark of his perch.
"More trespassers who should know better than to disturb me. You smell better than the last ones, at least. Much more appetizing. Less prickly. Let me guess, you’ve come seeking information about something boring. Ghorus this, Goroth that, Moot of Ages, Ruzadoya, war, war, war... Tedious. Predictable. Well, come then. Give me your speech, mortals. Entertain me."
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"Well, thank you...I think," Wispil is a little confused by the twisty words of the cat. "We'd be happy to trade some entertainment for some information."
"What sort of stories do you like? Have you heard the one about the kholo and with a fever? He was a hot dog."
"Wait, you think we smell like food? That's stinkier than a moldy cheese even! The last things that tried to eat us ended up dead!"
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Gentlestorm halts himself from shifting and engaging when Felivaine decides they're at least worthy of talk. He then silently thanks Wispil for being surprisingly good at diplomacy, when he wants to be.
"It's true that we are after information that you see as boring it seems. But it is with good cause, as we are seeking the deeper threat behind the attacks that have placed Ruzadoya in power. That have made it their goals to splinter the Wildlodge and the pacts it has forged."
He muses worriedly, "And what horrors might be drawn up from the Goroth lodge's ancient armories."
Felivaine laughs at Wispil's joke. "Heh. Very funny, bird." The dweomercat's tail waves back and forth behind him as you have successfully caught his attention.
After some more jokes, Gentle Storm gives his pitch. Felivaine sighs. "Yes, it's true. I was once acquainted with that fool Ghorus, but I have no desire to relive that part of my life—it was no fun at all! But you, bird, are entertaining! More jokes!"
Wispil starts to fluff his feathers to counteract the flush he feels climbing up his body.
"Sure, jokes...I got a million of them. But what do you say we trade? I'll tell you some jokes and you tell us about that dull old Ghorus."
"Oh, very well. Follow me." Felivaine leaps down from his perch and wanders through the glen. After a few minutes, he stops at a small stone cottage, long fallen to disrepair and settles onto the front step.
“When the tides turned against Ghorus, he fled the Verduran Forest for distant lands and left much behind. Ghorus loved things, you see? Books, weapons, plants, his experiments—he loved those most of all—the things he shaped and warped himself. He thought that things mattered—a mortal misconception. Thus, Ghorus had a plan to retrieve these lost possessions. He carved instructions into four stone menhirs of his favored pulpit, a place his followers called Coronet. These point to locations of various keys—each a portion of a map that, when combined, would reveal the passage to Ghorus’s Garden.” Felivaine shakes his head, remarking, “Convoluted, I know, but remember that Ghorus had just lost a war. He saw enemies everywhere. Expected betrayal everywhere. Turns out he was right.
“Ghorus directed a most loyal lackey to share this knowledge with only the Goroth Lodge’s utterly devoted followers. Then they could retrieve Ghorus’s treasures and carry them off to him. A foolish hope. I ate his chosen mouthpiece within minutes and left his treasures to rot!”
Felivaine cackles cruelly before continuing. “Hmph. Or so I thought. Now, another renegade rallies the Verduran Forest to war, and her minions search under moss, root, and rock for Ghorus’s leavings. I’d like to see them fail. I will give you the location of Ghorus’s pulpit. You can read the menhirs, track down the sites, forge the map, and dig up the old garden—if you’re clever enough. But I require payment. Not in things,” Felivaine spits in disgust, “but in labor and a very singular memento.” He casts a look over his shoulder at the ancient, crumbling stone cabin. “This house belonged to a friend of mine—the dearest friend I ever had. Her name was Eilwith, and she was one of the many who believed in Ghorus. She joined his lodge and was lost to me. I joined the Goroth Lodge not for Ghorus or his war, but to find Eilwith. I never saw her again. She’s dead now, of course. I have no illusions about that—she was human. I doubt that even her corpse remains. I simply ask that you keep alert for signs of her presence or the necklace she once wore. It was gold with a moonstone pendant shaped like a flower. If you find it, bring it to me. Do we have an accord?”
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"That sounds great. We're always on the lookout for historical items that might have been mislaid," Wispil agrees. "As to whether we are clever enough to get our hands on Ghorus's goods, time will tell."
"Now, my turn: Did you hear about the druid that wanted to be a barrister? He went to Claw School!"
"Bwa ha ha!" Felivaine laughs uproariously, rolling on the floor.
Once he has recovered from his laughing fit, the dweomercat gives you directions to the "pulpit" where Ghorus once spoke to his followers. Furthermore, he explains that Ghorus used to slip away for weeks at a time to “meditate” in his “private temple.” Felivaine followed him one day but saw that there was no temple at all; Ghorus was “just talking to a strange wooden ball from another world.”
"How could you tell it was of another world?"
Felivaine gives a feline shrug. "I'm immortal. When you've been around as long as I have, you've seen everything this world has to offer. And that wooden ball thing was something I hadn't seen before, nor have seen since."
"Interesting," Wispil considers. "I thought druids were mostly concerned with this world. Seems like this Ghorus really was unusual."
"I have not walked through them myself, but it is said that elfgates can take you to other worlds beyond Golarion. They must exist as more than fire in the sky."
"Like, can you direct us to the private temple?" Kilitsi asks.
"Alas, I can't recall exactly where Ghorus's private temple is located," Felivaine says. "It must have slipped my mind. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll find it in time."
The dweomercat turns to Gentle Storm. "Alacreon? The satyr prince has always been motivated by his own hedonistic desires, nothing more. Indeed, I've heard that his alliance with the new Wildwood Lodge's leader was fleeting, indeed. Supposedly, he's broken ties and moved off deep into the forest somewhere to stake out his own realm."
Kilitsi looks a little doubtful that they'll be able to find the private temple, but anything's possible.
"Oh, maybe we can talk him into, like, being an enemy of our enemy, or something like that? If we can find him. Maybe he's in the private temple!"
Coronet, called the pulpit by Felivaine, is a circular stone shelf midway up a rocky hill where Ghorus preached to his followers. The shelf is ringed by four stone menhirs—monolithic stones traced with ancient carvings long covered by moss. Each of these four menhirs depicts a single location within the Verduran Forest. Ghorus placed these carvings as a map, which his loyal followers were supposed to follow. By visiting each of these depicted sites and collecting a slate slab, they would discover the location of Ghorus’s Garden and the treasures therein. Felivaine took great delight in foiling this plan.
The oldest carvings are of precise geometric shapes and patterns, most involving roots, branches, and leaves. Each menhir is topped by a prominent carving of a coiling, thorned wreath, the symbol of the Goroth Lodge. Finally, each menhir’s center includes a depiction of a location with navigational clues.
By studying the carvings, you are able to identify three of the locations: the supply depot you already visited, a temple, and a hovering sphere. The fourth location is too faded to be legible, but based on the partial map you found in the supply depot, if you visit the other locations, you may be able to find the other pieces of the map to lead to this final location.
"Temple, or hovering sphere? Those both sounds just great," Wispil grumbles. "After what that big tabby cat said, I bet the sphere is some terrible creature from another reality. Maybe we should start at the temple."
"Better to learn from whatever may be found before visiting something so unnatural," Alessandria agrees. "The temple may help us."
Kiltisi agrees going to the temple first makes sense. And promptly begins walking toward the sphere.
You follow the directions, and soon you arrive at a flower-shaped stone temple that surrounds a circular, open-air courtyard with a stone floor. Ancient, worn carvings line the walls and floor of this structure. You recognize the place as an ancient Green Faith worship site. A recurring motif in the carvings that depicts a wooden figure, similar in appearance to an arboreal, and strange text.
You can hear several voices loudly complaining from somewhere in the back of the temple. "Come on, come on!" says a high-pitched female voice. "There's got to be something here! We can't go back to Ruzadoya empty-handed, or she's gonna test the ritual on us next!"
"Calm down," says a gruff male voice. "Let's keep looking."
"We've been looking for hours," says a third person, their voice echoing strangely. "Perhaps we should just face the music."
"No, no, no!" the first voice groans. "Check all the nooks and crannies!"
Kilitsi's eyes widen. "They're here!" she whispers, pulling out her ax. "Maybe we can capture them and learn more about what Ruzadoya is planning!"
"Yeah," Wispil agrees. "Let's give them a good bop on the noggin and see what they know."
Alessandria nods. "Ruzadoya's schemes shall not proceed in darkness with us unwitting."
As you round the corner, you see the agents of the Wildwood Lodge: a kobold, a human, and an umbral gnome, accompanied by a tamed giant stag beetle. When they spot you, the kobold hisses. "Oh, no! It's them! Get 'em!"
Fortunately, the foes are caught off-guard and you are able to strike first!
Wispil fires of a blast of water at the mouthy kobold, then urges a protective tree to spout right in the middle of the room, next to Mal.
for
HP 122/122 (if lose dying condition, use snarling badger talisman)
AC 25
Fort +15, Ref +15, Will +12; Ancestral Geometry roll: 15 (Reflex/Will/Fort)
Hero points: 2
Effects:
Kilitsi closes in with Gentle Storm, also focusing on the beetle, since it's the least likely to be able to answer any questions. She hacks into it and then swings wildly.
Alessandria calls up a great swirling aura of flame around herself then rockets forward, melting the earth around her into a molten shell around her mighty frame!
The kobold partially avoids Alessandria's rocket dash, but everybody else is hit full-force, especially the gnome, who is badly battered and burnt! Gentle Storm pounces on the stag beetle but is unable to pierce its chitinous shell. Kilitsi fares better, scoring a critical hit against it. Wispil fills the kobold's mouth with water!
"Blarghgl!" the kobold sputters. She and the human spread out, taking cover behind some rubble. They whip out hand crossbows and fire at Alessandria, but Wispil's protector tree intervenes to keep her safe.
The umbral gnome likewise retreats straight back, attempting to blind the centaur.
The stag beetle snaps at Kilitsi with its mandibles.
Wispil decides to try to take out the troublesome gnome.
or for
Wispil's blast impacts the gnome with bone crunching force, sending them sprawling across the room where they lie still. The kobold and human gasp in shock, then the human clicks his tongue in a certain pattern that calls off the stag beetle. The giant insect backs away from Gentle Storm and Kilitsi as the kobold and human fall to their knees.
"Okay, we're sorry! We surrender! We surrender!" the kobold says, raising her hands in a pleading gesture.
"Tell us everything you know, or you're plantfood!" Wispil threatens the surrendering foes.
"Why did Ruzadoya send you here?"
Kilitsi goes to check on the gnome to see if they survived Wispil's blast. "Maybe, like, next time, pick on someone your own size!" she shoots back to the diminutive kobold and human.
The kobold winces. "I'll talk! I'm Kanako, and this is Howell. The gnome is--was Nifir. We're looking for ancient relics and weapons that once belonged to Ghorus or the Goroth Lodge. Barring that, we’re looking for clues to other sites that might prove more promising.
"Ruzadoya is planning war with Taldor and Andoran! Freedom for the Verduran Forest! Retribution for Valenar! At least, that’s the pitch. She’s been stirring up trouble with Taldor and Andoran, but most of her soldiers and strike forces are inside the Verduran Forest, trying to increase our numbers and force compliance. The rest of us have been sent to scour old ruins and sites in search of the weapons once used by Ghorus. She’s really interested in something called the Cythbikian staff, but I don’t know why."
"I don't know, and I didn't ask," Kanako says. "Ruzadoya's terrifying! She's been taking people away for a special ritual, but none of us have ever seen those people again. At first, she only took the most promising and loyal members of the Wildwood—her inner circle, you know? But lately, she’s pulling in the misfits. I think the ritual she’s performing is flawed, and she’s trying to perfect it. I was afraid that if we failed here, she’ll choose us for the ritual next. I don’t know what it is, but I know that I don’t want to be a part of it."
Alessandria's face is shadowed with grief and anger. "Where are these horrors wrought?"
"I don't know, and I didn't ask," Kanako says again. "No need to risk drawing her ire more than necessary!"