Alessandria rears in surprise, an aura of flames flickering into being around her. "Hold thief. What claim do you have to this creature?"
Kilitsi take up position, but lets Alessandria try to provide the distraction. She's more likely to just turn it into a topiary.
When Alessandria manifests her flames the stormdrinker surges into action! Before you can react, it rings the bell in its hand, prompting the storm bat Tumbo to bite it! The plant absorbs the shock, moving with greater speed as it strides forward and lashes out with its vines!
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Ac: 21, Speed 30 feet; Melee [one-action] jaws, Damage 2d8 piercing; Melee [one-action] claw (agile), Damage 1d8 slashing.
Bursting forth from the brush after the vicious whipping by the plant where Gentle Storm once was is a massive Horned bear sporting a pair of curled goat horns, big sharp teeth, and massive crushing paws. It sweeps around the attacking shrubbery bellowing a challenging roar and sweeps across it's backside tearing into it with a swipe and a tearing bite
Tearing a chunk of foliage away it yells at the group.
"Seize the bat or bell!"
Spashes of water rise up around the distressed goose. "Drat this shrub!" A spurt heads toward the enemy, and Higgins taps Alessandria and Kilitsi, letting healing water flow over them.
for
Alessandria trots forward towards the stormdrinker, instinctively responding to its challenge in kind. She whistles up a bird of flame to harass the beast as well.
HP 54/75
AC 22
Fort +12, Ref +12, Will +9; Ancestral Geometry roll: xx (Reflex/Will/Fort)
Hero points: 2
Effects:
"Ow! Like, what a dragon's ass!" Kilitsi cries as she steps forward and brings her axe to bear! The blade cuts through the vines, slashing viciously.
Kilitsi moves up and attacks, scoring a critical hit with her axe! Wispil blasts the stormdrinker with water as he heals his allies. Alessandria's bird of fire scorches the plant, then Gentle Storm roars out of the foliage in the form of a giant bear! He slashes the stormdrinker, then chomps down with a mighty bite that rips the plant in two! Both halves fall to the ground with a wet thump, the bell clanging as it clatters to the ground. Tumbo lets out a chirp as he flies up and around in circles above you, sparks buzzing around him.
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Gentle bear spits the chunk of stormdrinker to the side and motions to the bell with a chunky claw. "Perhaps it will follow the sound? But I wager it would also shock us... or maybe it will simply follow us back to it's home."
"I can tend to your wounds if you wish before we go, though i think perhaps Wispil may have that covered. With rejuvinating water." He started to trundle back the way they came. Turning before he got to the thicket to look and see if the bat followed, but also to speak low at the perished plant-like creature. "Your soul departs and your body stays to become one with the land."
"Like, why did it even attack us?" Kilitsi says, shaking her head. She looks at the bat. "Tumbo, COME!" she orders, leading the way back to the festival.
"Everything that walks or flies understands how to be predator, how to be prey. Some don't know anything else."
Wispil squawks and a handful of fresh berries appear in Alessandria and Kilitsi's hands. "Here, eat that!"
Tumbo follows you back to the fairgrounds without further incident. Frangelica thanks you profusely for the spark bat's return. She and Delg reward you with a pair of gadget skates, an electromuscular stimulant, and a second once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to invest in their invention!
"Or its function, if not its purpose."
"I think you need to provide us with a demonstration if you want our cash!"
"Like, this is pretty cool," Kilitsi says, absorbed in the smaller device. "Can someone, like, help me put it on?"
The couple demonstrates how Tumbo's bioelectricity powers the device, though they remain coy as to its actual purpose. In the end, it's probably a better idea to hold onto your money than to invest it in the obscure endeavor.
***
Later in the day, you form a team to participate in the prismati tournament. You find yourselves going up against last year's returning champions, and though the competition is fierce, you emerge victorious! Afterwards, Alacreon invites you to enjoy a celebratory round of drinks. He placed a large bet on your team, and he happily shares some of his gambling windfall with you: 120 gp and his favorite mug, a wooden taknard lined with silver worth 10 gp.
As evening falls on the second day, the crowds begin to gravitate to the amphitheater once more, this time to witness the announcement of the contestant that performed the best among the caber toss, flyting contest, and prismati game. The wood giant Xivaga, acting as master of ceremonies, names the winner, and this year's Wildwood Champion: Alessandria!
Xivega invites the centaur onstage to receive a ceremonial crown of flowers and the mantle of the Moot, a magical cloak that functions as a greater cloak of repute affecting only Wildwood Lodge druids and other Verduran Forest denizens.
Once the prize has been awarded, the crowd disperses across the grounds as guests wander off to attend other social gatherings, procure evening meals from the market, or retire early in anticipation of a long journey home following the next morning’s ceremony.
"Did you even see me throw that teal discus? I thought it was going to leave the forest!" Kilitsi says, pleased with how well they did. She does wonder if they had a little bit of an unfair advantage considering her and Alessandria's natural athletic abilities, but, like, whatever.
She relaxes, slightly, as their work seems to be done for the night with everyone dispersing. And then the festival's over tomorrow, so it appears they have been completely successful in their task.
"Next year they should introduce a swimming competition--or flying! That would go well with the flyting," Higgins complains. "Geese weren't meant to play prismati."
Alessandria joyfully accepts her laurels and mantle, clasping Xivaga's forearm with a triumphant shout!
Back with her friends she passes around a few horns of ale in a toast.
"To victory, may it stay ever sweet and ever sought."
She gulps down her ale with all the gusto she has brought to teh competititons. "Ahhh, Kilitsi, that throw was a marvel. Wispil, you name the course, and I will strive to equal you or any goose."
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Gentle Storm seems co tent to clap as Alessandria accepts the token of her winning.
"Very good, a guardian this year And the corronated winner of the festivities. I bet they'll ask you to be there when the Pact is resigned as well."
He nods to Kilitsi, "You are strong and will only grow stronger I'm sure of it."
"As for you Wispil, I'm glad to see you learned your lesson, and have found a new funnel for your way with words. Perhaps it'll help you in the coming years hmm?"
As the third and final day of the festival begins, most of the attendees have already begun breaking down their campsites in preparation for departure later in the day. You have enough time to make your daily preparations and disassemble your own campsites before the final event commences shortly before noon.
You join the crowd on the south beach of the inlet to witness the traditional ceremony that brings the Greenwood Gala to a close. All along the beach, spectators jostle excitedly for a better view as two boats approach from the northeast. The first is an elegant riverboat flying Taldan colors. The second, approaching steadily from the island’s mist, is a simple dugout canoe carrying four green-robed figures. The crowd awaiting them cheers their arrival, especially as the two representatives set foot on shore: an aging Valenar the Green speaks for the Wildwood Lodge, whereas the river guard captain Elgin Wavenly represents Taldor. The latter swings from his boat’s rigging to land in the shallows, wasting no time in meeting Valenar.
Valenar produces a small piece of fine blackwood from one pocket of his voluminous green robes and offers it to Elgin, speaking in a loud, clear voice that carries across the inlet: “With this gift, the Wildwood Lodge reaffirms its covenant with the empire of Taldor. Let this token of wood remain forever resolute and unyielding, a symbol of our shared pledge to protect the Verduran Forest and those who dwell within.”
Captain Wavenly steps forward to meet him, a small leather pouch in his outstretched hand. “With this gift, the empire of Taldor reaffirms its covenant with the Wildwood Lodge. Let these seeds take root and flourish, as our fellowship does the same.”
Valenar reaches out to accept the offered bag of seeds,a serene smile on his face. He is still smiling when the bag explodes in his hand, unleashing a hideous mass of pale tendrils and writhing stalks that promptly tears the old man’s face from his skull...
The next few seconds are a blur of mass panic as the parasitic fungus burrows its way into Valenar's freshly slain corpse, animating him like a grisly flesh puppet. A forest of writhing tendrils bursts from his body, each one bristling with toxic spores!
Before you can reac, the tendrils lash out at Captain Wavenly, impaling him and causing him to crumple to the ground. The tendrils then release a cloud of spores, infecting any bystanders unfortunate enough to be close by. They scream in agony as the spores turn their insides begin to liquefy, and as one gnome stumbles and falls, his body unleashes a fresh burst of spores to infect even more people!
"Oh my hero gods!" Kilitsi cries, pulling her axe from where it's strapped to her back and trying to figure out what's happening without any real luck. "Everybody get out of here!"
Not sure what this is, she retreats, hoping people will follow her.
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Gentle Storm was excited and happy to see the renewal of the pact take place, so many time he'd been called off for other events or happenings, but this year he'd be able to see it once again. The boats drifted to land and the occupants stepped out to approach and present their customary offerings and he smiled at Valenar. Stayed silent during the speeches given by both sides and had prepared his hands to clap for the celebration's conclusion. The clap never came, he watched in abject horror as both Valenar and Captain Wavenly.
It all happens in a manner that seems too drawn out to be real, as he watches old friends and new faces die. Kilitsi and the others are already moving retreating or acting out in their own way, but he stands stuck in that moment for what feels like forever. Trying to decipher the meaning behind the look on Valenar's now slack face to determine what his last thoughts were.
It only takes those moments though, his hands begin to tremble with rage and power at this creature. This act of defilement. The treachery of this sacred moment. There are no words, no roar of defiance or pain just anger. Palms slamming together creating an unnaturally loud ethereal boom as Gentle Storm suffuses his actions with primal magic and siphons the moisture from the parasite.
The air around Alessandria ignites, whorls of disparate temperatures surrounding her in a shimmering haze. She flings out a hand, and a set of champions laurels, blazing with fury, crash into Valenar's body.
"Plant attack! Betrayal!" Higgins squawks. He flings a heavy branch at the creature, then raises up a little tree to protect the guards.
for
Kilitsi backs off as she draws her blade. She has no idea what this thing might be!
Alessandria hurls a blast of flame at it, and even though it dodges some, the fire proves quite effective at scorching the fungus emerging from Valenar's body. Gentle Storm starts to leech the moisture out of its body, and Wispil batters it with a blast of wood.
The fungus animating Valenar's body causes it to lurch slowly towards you. When it gets next to Alessandria and Wispil, it releases a cloud of spores that infest all of you except for Kilitsi!
"This trial shall not best me!"
The spores ignite as Valenar's body draws near, leaving the furious warden unscathed even as Valenar smolders.
She slashes at the fungus-ridden corpse, and a searing axe of pure flame erupts, smashing through the creature, before shattering, the flaming axehead itself flying back around for another swing!
HP 75/75
AC 22
Fort +12, Ref +12, Will +9; Ancestral Geometry roll: 19 (Will)
Hero points: 2
Effects:
"Ewww!" Kilitsi says as she sees the thing amble forward and, realizing it's a threat that's going to come after people, charges back into the fray! Getting 10 feet away, she reaches out with her long arms and swings the axe, hacking into the fungal horror!
"Ugh, what is this stuff!" Higgins gripes. Sticks fly up around him, slapping at the creature, before he flies a bit farther away.
for
Kilitsi moves in to engage the creature, slicing it with her axe. Alessandria slices it with her own burning axe as her flying flame doubles back to scorch the fungal monster again. Gentle Storm claws at the fungus and Wispil batters it with wood.
The creature is badly wounded now, staggering about more slowly, but the death and mayhem caused by its contagious spores spreads all around you. You catch a glimpse of the centaur Vandalya Swiftmane wailing and kneeling over the body of her sister, Ruzadoya, before the monster reclaims your attention again as it lashes out at Alessandria with its tendrils!
"Well, this will be interesting," Higgins squints at Alessandria, and a spurt of steam rises up around her as cool, soothing water hits her glowing aura.
He flings another branch at the fungal creature.
for
HP 75/75
AC 22
Fort +12, Ref +12, Will +9; Ancestral Geometry roll: 19 (Will)
Hero points: 2
Effects:
"Stop it! This thing is, like, killing everyone!" Kilitsi urges her companions on, slashing furiously at it.
Wispil blasts the foul fungus again, then Kilitsi lands a glancing blow, misses, and finally follows through with a devastating backswing that slices poor Valenar's already dead body in two! The rent fungal tendrils shudder and go limp as the monstrous foe finally dies.
But the damage has already been done.
In the immediate aftermath of the attack, the gala grounds are a scene of horror and devastation. Debris and personal items left behind by fleeing bystanders are strewn about; survivors stagger across the bloodstained beach, calling the names of missing loved ones; the air fills with wails of anguish, both from the wounded and from those cradling the bodies of the fallen. It will take several hours to determine the extent of the destruction and count the dead.
Once more the spores ignite in the air around her before they can sicken Alessandria, but that small destruction does nothing to undo the greater destruction around her.
Dousing her flames, Alessandria quickly sets to business. She holds no great skill at healing as such things are reckoned, but she knows more than enough to aid a wounded friend in time of need.
For the living at least, she can provide some relief.
"Now, hold still or this will only hurt more!" Higgins' healing is great, though his bedside manner leaves something to be desired.
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As the fungal creature falls to Kilitsi's blows it seems Gentle Storm is about to go in for more when he stops just shy of slamming his paws into the lifeless husk.
He instead screams at it, a pained cry as his form half-melts and reforms, leaving him kneeling next to one of many departed friends. He reaches out to the glazed over eyes of Valenar and shakily closes them muttering in a hushed Amurrun.
"Sleep... sleep well even though your time came too soon. They will take you into their arms again and your life shall spring... spring anew."
With what little funeral rights he can offer in such a moment done he turns to the others, "We have to help where we can please."
Gentle storm seems frantic with a need to busy himself aiding those injured.
"Like, of course we do!" Kilitsi says, setting aside her ax as she easily tosses rubble out of the way, uncovering a broken body that she doesn't look too closely at. "Here's someone! Wispil, over here!"
As the goose arrives, she quickly moves on, easily throwing more debris out of the way.
Your efforts are much appreciated. In total, the unexpected attack resulted in the death of over a dozen gala attendeeds, including Ruzadoya Swiftmane, plus both Valenar the Green and Elvin Wavenly. By dusk, most attendees have vacated the area, disappearing back into the forest or piling into their boats and making a hasty retreat. Some even leave their campsites behind. Confusion and panic have largely been replaced by anger and paranoia, with remaining attendees darkly insinuating that one party or another must be responsible for orchestrating the attack. High on the list of suspects seems to be Taldor, though the evidence supporting this claim seems largely circumstantial: the deadly seeds were delivered, as they always have been, by a Taldan diplomat, and the remaining Taldan River Guard ships were among the first to leave the Arenway docks in the aftermath of the attacks, expediently extracting all Taldan survivors from gala grounds, and swiftly departing without any further communication.
Shortly after sunset, Emorga All-Seer finishes her own emergency meetings with Wildwood Lodge leadership and then gathers you. The enormous tortoise regards you wearily. "Today is a dark day for the Wildwood Lodge. This horrific attack has cost us beloved friends, including our archdruid. Thanks to your selfless heroism today, the losses were not much higher, and the Wildwood Lodge is in your debt."
Emorga lowers her head in respect, her massive eyes wet with tears. "It is the decision of this Council that we shall meet again in one month’s time, when that new moon rises. Then, a regional conclave will select the new leader of the Wildwood Lodge. Yes, there are voices that would have us move more quickly, but decisions such as these require careful deliberation, and we must not act rashly. Until then, I would ask that you stay here with us. The next few weeks will be crucial to the future of the Wildwood Lodge and perhaps the Verduran Forest itself, and we need the help of ones such as you to ensure its safety."
Higgins thanks the leaders thoroughly.
Nothing like a gig that pays and offers room and board.
Back with the crew, he gripes, "This while thing stinks like moose manure! The Taldans delivered the seeds, but which one of those stuffy beard boys had the primal magic to alter them? It's probably fey mischief!" He suggests vehemently. "It's almost always fey mischief."
"Like, maybe, but why would they do that? Most of the fey are friendly, and the lodge protects them from the Taldans, right? This is so hobbled! I hope they can find whoever did this!" Kilitsi says.
She eyes the armor, thinking it would look pretty good on her.
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"Hrumph! They want you to think they're friendly."
Hard to imagine how Higgins can scoff with a beak, but he pulls it off.
Before speaking with Emorga, Alessandria trots off to offer Vandalya her condolences, resting her head against her distant kin's. "I grieve with you, cousin. If there is aught I can do to aid you, or avenge Ruzadoya, please call on me."
***
"The fey have never spoken with one voice, nor thought with one mind. I mislike that the Taldans fled so swiftly. This could easily be the beginning of another of their wars, or merely an outrage of one of their schemers."
She stamps, heat shimmering around her. "Whoever it was, this grotesquerie will be answered."
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Gentle Storm had been gloomy the rest of the day even up through the meeting with Emorga. "The counsel should take their time to choose the next leader carefully. We will not see the like of Valenar in some time I fear."
Bowing his head in remembrance as well as simply to listen for a few moments as the others begin pointing fingers he speaks up.
"The pact has kept both sides from going to war for a long time, the interruption may be seen as a failure to renew non-aggressions and peaceful trading. But I would suggest we look outside of the two parties until further evidence is gathered. Who else would benefit from the weakening of our ties for instance."
The piercing eyes of Gentle storm cross everyone in the room. "The fey have reason to keep the natural world pristine, but they have been known to perform unsavory 'tricks' when a slight is taken. Taldor as any expanding nation will always require more, but I do not think they are shortsighted enough to realize that if they were to make war for the sake of resources that they wouldn't expend more than they would gain in the process." He thinks back to his now Taldan friend Alyce and how even with her long departure she's like to still fight for the groves.
"There are many who hold malcontent even within the wildwoods themselves, believing that Taldan has not repaid for what they've taken. That the war should be started anew, I'm sure plenty of voices of the same are being raised in their streets as well, but I do not know the inner machinations of such places."
Finally shaking his puffy maned head he sighs, "I wonder if there is not another party we are yet to discover." Looking downcast his body wilts to a still ears flattened against his head in shame. "Sorry I.. it is unlike me to cast judgement so openly and wide."
Chapter 2: Wildfires
In the gala's aftermath, you find yourselves with a few days to recuperate. During this time, Khasprickle becomes an an outspoken vigilante who loudly advertises that he’s assembling a new Wild Hunt to purge the Verduran Forest of interlopers. While most residents of the forest look disdainfully at the vengeful pukwudgie, a few are desperate or angry enough to join his cause. By the time that Emorga summons you, you have seen plenty of other attendees departing with plans to take matters into their own hands or rally support elsewhere.
When you meet with Emorga, the tortoise regards you. "Once more, thank you on behalf of the Wildwood Lodge for your timely intervention the other day and for your ongoing repairs in the aftermath. The Lodge exists to protect the forest, and you have truly embodied our principles." The great tortoise sighs deeply. "Unfortunately, the Lodge and its allies can’t agree on what happens next. We are temporarily without a leader, many emissaries have withdrawn home to defend against further attacks, and others are rallying forces to seek vengeance. Fey who usually attend the gala in good faith and friendship have turned into vigilantes hell-bent on expelling all outsiders from the forest.
"These are grim times. I appreciate your aid, and I do not doubt that you have questions."