It's early in the morning, just a few hours after sunrise, the ground still hard with the Iobarian chill when your long, long journey nears its end. The town of Mishkar sits atop a hill, surrounded by walls that are old but well maintained. People, mostly humans, stream in and out of the gates, watched over by sharp-eyed guards. Past the gate is a bustling market that draws most of the traffic, and beyond it is a town of low wooden and stone buildings. Most of the construction looks fairly new and of human design, with no sign of the cyclops remnants upon which most Iobarian settlements are built.
So where are the Farheavens..?
***
Jorsal of Lauterbury had looked up as you entered. Even now, at peace, in his study at the heart of the Starrise Lodge the Venture-Captain is armored; his sword is still always within reach.
"The Worldwound is closed, in some small part due to the efforts of our own Society, and in the wake of that victory, we have discovered a number of old Sarkorian sites about that had once been too deep in the Worldwound to even attempt to investigate. Those areas are long twisted by contact with the Abyss, but one thing I had from my old mentor Drandle, and you'll learn if you become agents," here he nods ruefully at Seelah and Sajan. "There are always more ways to the truth."
He spread a map across the table, putting a pin in the shape of Iomedae's Sword and Sun to the east of a tremendous forest.
"At Ms. Kalla's recommendation, we are trying to track down some of the original inhabitants of these sites, or their descendants, in the hopes that they will be able to shed some light on the history and significance of these locations." The light of excitement shows in his eyes. "Perhaps we could even help them resettle their old lands! It is to that end that I am dispatching you to the town of Mishkar in Iobaria, where our agents have discovered that at least one survivor of the Farheaven Clan is said to dwell. According to our sources, she goes by the name Nelket, and it is my hope that she can speak about her clan's history, or point you to someone who can. Learn what you can, and bring the information back to the Society. If you can convince Nelket or some of her kinfolk to come to our Lodge and speak with us, all the better."
Faintly smiling at Rising Dawn and Laszlo he adds, "I know that you would take this task seriously without my request, Ms. Dawn, Mr Csoka but this would be an excellent chance for you to show your quality. Return with this information, and I will support a Field Commission to the Society for you both," he looks back to Kalla. "For you as well, if you would rather see our task through past this first expedition.
"I do not expect you will face much difficulty in this task. However, Iobaria is a wild and dangerous land, so be on your guard. Inheritor's grace be with you."
***
You haven't been able to establish a set meeting time or even a place to find this Nelket, but there should at least be plenty of people here to ask.
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"Charming place" the young woman says without a hint of sarcasm, as she pulls her flaxen hair back into a short tail and then stretches the last of the hard ground out of her joints.
"I've got none of the training you lot... well some of you lot..." the black pits of her eyes shift slightly toward the other non-pathfinders like her. "Normally I'd split and spit high to see what lands where." she sees a look of confusion, and remembering slang isn't universal "Split up, asks questions to find information or at least see who reacts than meet up later to fill each other in. Faster that way."
"But..." Those disturbing orbs settle back on Mr. Csoka. She's not one to judge but even she'd have not entered an alleyway he was lurking in before this trip "Even without you here, I'd figured new place like this and my eyes would mean slow, careful, and in mass is better fast, pitchforky, and battered. What you all say? Team effort?" she arches an eyebrow as she slips her rose covered glasses up her nose.
Either as a group or all alone, Kalla goes to the best place for information in any city... the market. Yes, a bar would be great as well, but it is MORNING, so drunks are too far gone to be of use, but gossip shoppers are all keen to kiss and tell. "The barber and the baker slipping it to the candle maker? Oh, that was a delightfully Graphic story, ma'am. You know who'd love to hear that, an old friend of mine, Nelket, you know where I could find her? It's been an age plus two, maybe nine."
The long march hasn't seem to bother Rising Dawn much. The sturdy dwarf seems built for such feats of endurance, with a squat, broad-shouldered frame. She uses the haft of her spear to help her along the path into the city.
"I'll help you in the market," she says to Kalla. "We'll see what sort of information we can rustle up."
Unfortunately, the animist's gruff manner of questioning seems to hurt Kalla's efforts more than help them.
Laszlo taps his upper lip with an unnaturally long index finger, briefly in thought. "You know, the master always keep close track of refugees who came to his lands. Though I think that was so he knew where he could get an extra limb or two without upsetting the locals. I'm sure things are different here, but I've been given to understand tax collectors think along the same lines." Laszlo looks toward Seelah with puppy dog eyes (not made from real puppy dogs). "I'm sure my... servant's appearance will hinder my credibility with the taxmen. Would one of you experienced adventurer's assist me in my search?"
Closing his eyes for a moment, Sajan lets out a weary sigh. "In my unfortunate experience, local temples are useful when searching for others." Something in his voice suggests a deeper meaning to his words, but whatever it is fades as he opens his eyes and regains his stature. "I'll see what I can find. Whatever we find, I suggest we meet at the market mid-day."
"See that symbol the darker ones had on their compasses? Pathfinders. Guess the rumors about the company they keep are true..."
Strangers coming in from the woods and hills usually provoke a little healthy suspicion even in lands less plagued with ill-luck, and Kalla's glasses after all, do nothing to hide Laszlo's monstrous features. However, aside from a few cold looks and whispered comments, you don't face much trouble, at leas so long as there's nothing immediate to blame on you.
Sajan can't find any temples throughout the town, though he notices a good number of effigies, markings, and one or two ritual fertility objects that have been left out that seem to have religious purpose.
There is however a small shrine down against the walls of the caravansary just off the market. No priest keeps it, but a small altar to Desna awaits the faithful.
***
Nelket seems to be well known in town, and actually, generally well liked. However, Kalla and Dawn do notice that there's no pushback or surprise when Kalla claims to be her friend. She may be well liked, but no one expects that they would know that she has friends from Away.
Maybe it's her job? She manages (not owns), a small tavern called the Jolly Hag, even though "Didn't she used to be a molfar? A, uh, godtalker?" explains a very trailworn trapper at her booth. "Not here in Mishkar, but back in... where's she from again?"
Seelah's back straightens and a noticeable glint enters her eyes at the prospect of being of service. Laszlo, you can count on me, Iomedae's will shall guide us straight and true to the information we seek. With no, hesitation Seelah sets off to locate the local tax/records authority, only remembering to briefly check behind her to verify that Laszlo is following after several hundred feet
Even in a town not given to priests and paladins, a Champion of Iomedae does still read as trustworthy, and Seelah and Laszlo are shown back to a room of old books, and even scrolls where the records go back far enough.
It's not the most coherent layout - like is commonly with like, but not uncommonly next to something entirely else - however, you're able to find recent records. However, for Nelket they are fairly scanty. She's lived here for about fifteen years, but owns no property, has no possessions or impact on this town great enough to be taxed in ledgers and notations instead of by coins and tolls. The only thing that makes her more than incidentally findable is that she's on the books as a former guardian of dozens of Farheavens.
"That answer your questions, errm, dear? I'm not supposed to just leave people with the books, and I haven't got all day to stand here."
"Hmmm, almost feels like she's trying to keep anyone from getting close... for whatever reason." Kalla muses as she waits with Dawn at the designated meet up location.
Given they have time, Kalla tries to root out any information the people might have on the Farheavens.
Dawn continues to grunt and glower in an ill-advised attempt to aid Kalla.
The Jolly Hag is a small but cozy tavern, lit by a pair of clean windows on either side of the door and a fireplace near the back. Counters and stools line the wall, with a few small tables in the center of the room. Not yet opened for the day, the front of the house is empty except for a woman in a modest, functional green dress and off-white apron, who looks up from the bar at the back of the tavern as you enter. She's only in her midtwenties, but she looks and carries herself as if she were older, exuding a sad air of buried loss and resilient strength.
"We're actually not open ye- Oh!"Laszlo's face catches her by surprise, and then after a moment Kalla's concealing glasses get a piercing look. "Are you the Pathfinders then? I haven't had dealings with you before, but I'd heard your agents were-" she glances at Laszlo again, but doesn't elaborate. "I'm Nelket. I suppose I should say of the Farheavens since that's what you're- Maybe, once of the Farheavens? Jorsal- sorry, Captain Jorsal's letter said he wanted to learn more about my clan and past, but I didn't really understand why anyone would care..." She looks up at Kalla again, eyes searching. "Are you Kalla, then? He said the one who was urging him on was of Sarkoris, and the rest of you don't really have the look. Did you lose your clan too?"
She flinches, perhaps fearful she's poked a sore spot, and quickly carries on to fill the infinitesimal pause. "Unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot to tell you. I'm one of only a handful of survivors of the Farheaven Clan; most of us perished in a plague about fifteen years back. We had a small village south of here in the Norinor, where my ancestors settled after fleeing the demons unleashed by the Worldwound. I was scarcely more than a child when the plague came; I served as one of the apprentices to our god caller, Roga, at the time.
"The plague hit fast, taking the elders and even infecting Roga near the end. He urged my cousin and I to gather the children and leave the village before we became sick as well, but it wasn't until I watched our god, Dolok Darkfur, rip the life from Roga that I gathered the children and fled."
She pauses for a moment to gather herself and then sighs and shrugs, continuing her story. "Maybe he'd gone mad? Maybe he thought he was helping? I don't know. I led- Well, my cousin Amelia and I, the other apprentice, led the younger children through the woods as best we could. Even if the children didn't really... Amelia can be... We did our best, her too.
"There are lots of people scattered about the Norinor Forest; they like their privacy and don't interact much with others, but they're not cruel, and they helped us where they could. Eventually we made our way to the Noyrus River and followed it north before heading for Mishkar, and we've been here ever since."
Nelket sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose before finishing her story. "Whatever remains of the Farheavens besides the few of us here is in that village. I have the closest connection to the old ways—to our god—but I barely remember these things. The others remember even less, if anything. Amelia turned to... other things. Some of the little ones could barely speak when we fled. I tried to keep us together, but it was hard, and all I could try to put at our center was... me. They didn't, don't trust Amelia. I wasn't enough by myself. I'm still Auntie Nelket to them, and to their children. Some have asked me to give their children their Names when they were old enough, but even if we might be a family, we're not a people anymore.
"If you want to know more about when we were, the only one left with answers would be old Dolok himself. "
”I’ve never heard of a god turning on their caller before. Can you tell us more about Dolok?” Dawn asks. She tries to remember what she knows about the gods of Sarkoris. Could they become sick or be driven mad?
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Laszlo puffs himself up a bit at Nelket's greeting. I already look like a Pathfinder! That's so exciting! Listening to her story though, he sobers up quickly.
He speaks up briefly in support of Rising Dawn. "We are very sorry for your loss. While we can't fix it, maybe we can alleviate it somewhat. The venture captain is organizing an expedition to where we think your homeland was. But we don't really know what is important there. If you could help us then maybe we can return some of what was lost there to you." Laszlo's eloquent request is unfortunately marred by a slurping noise as he keeps drool from dripping out of his mismatched lips.
"If this is too much for you, we understand. Perhaps you could also point us in the direction of your cousin, Amelia?"
"Dolok Darkfur is- was the god of the Farheaven Clan, our guardian. He appeared to us as a bear who walked and spoke as a person. He had been with us for generations, serving as a guardian and advisor to my clan until the plague came. I don't think it infected him, because of his divine nature, but I think it drove him mad in the end anyway. Watching us die from an illness no one could cure, one after another... By the end, maybe putting the sick out of their misery was the only thing that made sense to him?"
Nelket smiles carefully at Laszlo's offer. "She won't be able to help just by herself. Roga was waiting to teach us all of Dolok Darkfur's rites until we were grown, but in case of disaster he entrusted us each with half of a calling ritual for the god so that his death would never sever our bond. I know which talismans and offerings must be used and given, but he entrusted the prayers and chants to Amelia. She always had a better head for memorization; he said I extemporized too much." For the first time her carefully held grief truly shadows her face.
She breathes deeply through it and intones, automatically falling into some half-remembered rhythm as she describes what must be done. "There was an... idol, born of darkwood - a carving of a standing bear; a leather necklace strung with bear claws and black feathers; and a bowl, hard-earned silver, engraved with our people and our past. A stone, mottled with-" She flinches.
"Damn. I've seen the stone; it had a pattern on it. I think it had to be that specific stone, but I can't remember how Roga described it... I could draw it for you though, if you have the paper. The rest too, if that would help. Oh, honey! You need honey."
She collects herself and continues, "One must wear the necklace and place the bowl on the altar with the rock upon it. The honey must be placed to the left of the bowl and the bear carving to the right. You have to drip a bit of honey on the stone and then pour water over it until you fill the bowl. After that, recite Amelia's prayer and then wait. Dolok Darkfur should appear, unless he’s become so lost in his madness that he can no longer be reached."
She smiles sadly. "I haven't seen her in a few weeks... No, months I suppose. Amelia's place is outside the southern wall, near the stand of pear trees. Purple door, lots of crossed out eyes. I hope she'll help. She's kept those prayers jealously, and I fear it would be dangerous for her to return."
She looks up at Kalla again, eyes searching. "Are you Kalla, then? He said the one who was urging him on was of Sarkoris, and the rest of you don't really have the look. Did you lose your clan too?"
Kalla gives a sad shake of her head. "I come from Mendov, where many of our people collected, but not in strength. Clans became muddled, then lost, as people just tried to Be. I've collected snips and bits but not enough, and worry if we wait much longer, we'll Be a people much longer." the young woman sighed. "That's the why I worked on their Captain, but he didn't need much of a push."
As Nelket talks about the ritual, Kalla's brain tugs about remembering...
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"Aren't you interested in joining us? Surely you wish to reunite with your clan, your family?" Sajan's confusion shows plainly on his face while a subtle tensing of his muscles betrays other emotions. How can she have fallen out of touch with Amelia? What I wouldn't give...
"Well, the decision is yours. But can you tell us more about Dolok Darkfur? How dangerous is he? I'm concerned about calling a god last seen devouring his caller."
"What family I have are all here," Nelket sadly smiles. "Like I said, there's nothing to hold us together as a clan anymore. Our home is gone, both homes. I can't do it alone." She nods in understanding as Kalla speaks too of the point of no return.
"Dolok Darkfur is very ferocious, as all good guardian spirits are. I hope that he will see there is nothing more for him to guard from you, but if he is lost to madness... There will be danger. That is why I cannot come," she pulls aside the shoulder of her dress, revealing an angry red brand that looks as if it has scarcely stopped bleeding. "If I come, he will know. There will be no time to give him gifts, to soothe his fury with rituals from better times. He will know." She pauses as if uncertain what she should divulge. "Amelia has a different bond. I will not speak of it further."
Dawn nods, satisfied with the information. She's ready to head out when the others are ready.
A look of pity flashes across Seelah's face as her hands softly glow with a red and white aura.
I know my healing abilities are basic, but if your brand still pains you, may I offer you any comfort before we depart?
"You are kind, but... I would rather keep it."
***
The buildings outside the walls of Mishkar aren't quite so nice, but they are still a neighborhood, not a shantytown, and you can feel the tenor of the neighborhood change as you draw closer to Amelia's home. The scattered effigies and marks of ritual that Sajan had noticed throughout the town are thicker here, particularly one symbol, easy to draw. Doors and walls are studded with eyes composed of angles and lines, watching, guarding against ill luck or baleful intent.
Amelia's home is easy to identify. There are the pears Nesket spoke of, and the purple door, but the dozens of eyes carved across her walls and door by different hands would surely have drawn your attention nonetheless, each of the eyes struck through the center with a blinding line.
Kalla runs her hand across the eyes with a furrow in her brow "Ominous, aren't they? They feel like a... curse Fulfilled? A request for something bad and the striking meaning it was completed." she takes her hand away and rubs her fingers. "I think being really polite is in order."
She pauses looks around and if no one has anything they want to do first... she knocks.
Sajan frowns at the symbols, "Really polite perhaps, but I think extreme caution is in order."
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"Nonsense. I mean you should be polite to strangers any way." Laszlo holds a hand up toward one of the hanging effigies, not quite touching it but allowing him to examine it more closely. "There was a witch back in Ustalav that master would send me to get things from and her place was marked out like this too. She was always very kind to me. I think the Pathfinders might have killed her though... They mentioned something about a hag in the swamp... But that's not important, I'm sure Amelia's a lovely person."
Seelah steps forward of the group in an attempt to present a calm, authoritative, and trustworthy face. Please forgive our intrusion, we have come to you on behalf of the Venture-Captain of the Starrise Lodge of the Pathfinder Society. Our task is learn more of the lands impacted by the worldwound and aid their displaced peoples. We come to you at the advice of Nelket of Farheaven who has informed us that you may be of assistance in learning about your people . Seelah lets a pause develop around her open ended question masquerading as a statement, hoping to enjoin Amelia to fill the silence with relevant information
Laszlo's eyes widen for a second and he reaches in his bag to pull out his formula book. "Well, clearly you have given up on your people. Very sad. But we Pathfinders won't quit so easily! You say a plague infected your town, coughing, rotting, et cetera. Of course, everyone knows a plague is the result of black and yellow bile infecting the sanguine humours, but Professor Csoka discovered that it is specifically foreign humours infecting that... Sorry, that's not important right now. Could you provide me with some details so I can prepare a preventative?"
Lazslo looks up from his book and locks eyes with Amelia. "After all the details are important. They may save lives in the future."
Kalla watches, listens, and then finally asks "The plague was abysmal in origin? Is the taint of Darkfur the same?" she assumes so, since nearly all her people's woes originate from the wound.
"The Abyss never stops giving, does it?" the young woman sighs.
"The pathfinders are seeking information, as they always do, learning and understanding." she smiles over at Dawn and attempts to do so at Csoka. "Thankfully they are settling their incessant need to know toward the Sakorian people. Yours, Nelket's... my people. Knowing instead of making asses out of ourselves might help give us a home, a real one. Can you help with that, Amelia?"
Sajan nods along quietly for most of the conversation. At the mention of her villagers his head tilts the side and his eyes narrow slightly, "Wait, you said your people abandoned you. What do you mean?"
Kalla's lips part in a wide smile, then she dips deep into a sweeping bow which is what someone who has never ever been to a formal anything so has no idea what is really should look like. "You are more than welcome, madam witch. Us with misunderstood appearances need to stick together and all." she rose glasses slipped as she bowed, showing dull black orbs of her eyes.
After straightening, she says "Nelket said the best wager on getting more information was asking your Dolok Darkfur himself, said you'd know how to do that... as insane as it sounds, given what you said about him."
The ruins of the old village are in the southern reaches of the Finadar forest. Even with what hunting trails you find, and a guide who has been down this path at least the once, it's almost a full week of determined travel beneath the dark pines before Amelia tells you that it's near.
You come across a dozen or so outlying buildings over the last miles before the town center, clustered more tightly together as you draw closer, but all of them almost completely reclaimed by the Finadar, with bushes, vines, and young trees poking through roofs and doorways. The center of the village is less overgrown, set in a clearing amid the close-grown pines. There is no doubt that the heart of it is what Amelia still recognizes as Dolok Darkfur's shrine, a large stone edifice surrounded by several other buildings whose once brightly colored paint has faded and chipped. Amelia also clearly remembers the God-caller's house; the place where she and Nelket dwelt with their mentor Roga while they were in training, the names of most of her former neighbors who dwelt so close to the shrine do not escape her either.
Bodies still litter the area, the ones you can still see on the ground nothing more than scattered bones.
The house closest to you and to the east is more overgrown with tangled ivy, but otherwise there is little to distinguish the old homesteads from here.
"Amelia, we should search everywhere. It seems to be what pathfinders do." she gives the actual pathfinders a warm look "Since this was your village, is there any place you would like us to avoid." she pauses, and then continues more grave, looking at the bones "After... burials, of course."
Seelah nods in agreement. "I can assist to help lay the fallen to rest. Seelah looks earnestly in Amelia's direction. "Are there any rites or funerary traditions we should follow to respect your dead?
Turning to the rest of the party, Seelah straightens and takes on an authoritative affect."Afterwards, I agree with Kalia, I propose a sweep of the village starting with the building in the south west and proceeding counter clockwise to the shrine, avoiding any areas called out by Amelia. We don't know who or what may have taken residence in the village since the Farheaven clan evacuated"
Dawn remains alert, keeping her senses honed for any creatures lurking about or secrets waiting to be uncovered.
With a slight bow and his hands pressed together, Sajan whispers a prayer for the dead. "I can assist as needed."
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Laszlo searches briefly through his bag, prepared for disappointment before he even began. "Curses, I left my gravedigging trowel back in Ustalav. I knew I was going to need it.*sigh* How do your people feel about pyres?" He looks over to Amelia hopefully. "Or perhaps cairns? I can do a lovely cairn if we have the right kind of stones nearby."
"Oh speaking of, if none of us picked it up in the market, we should see if there are any beehives in the nearby lands. Nelket mentioned we would need honey and I suspect fresh gathered would be the best for a ritual like we're planning. Perhaps after we've found the other ritual items we need in the r... town."
Sajan smiles at Amelia's joke. I suppose not all is lost if we can find humor in such darkness.
What follows next is a flurry of activity as the group coordinates their efforts. Bones and other remains are quickly gathered for a funeral pyre before a brief ceremony to honor the dead and pray for their souls.
Afterwards Sajan can't help but smile at his new companions. They know little of each other and yet are so willing to help.
With that out of the way, Sajan follows Seelah's lead in the search.
It takes sometime to gather enough fuel for such a fire, even if its purpose is more ceremonial than wholly practical. The woods surrounding are no longer carefully coppiced, so one of the easiest sources is the surrounding houses themselves.
...Which, Laszlo notices, you are not the first to draw on. Much of the simplest to remove, or most intact boards from the surrounding houses seem to have already been carefully taken. As you go through the town green collecting bodies that have been felled by either plague or brutal violence, Rising Dawn notices that the home of Tolvaj, who always used to experiment with new dyes, seems to be their recipient. Though the building still looks to be in disrepair, there are signs of careful, recent upkeep.
While Sajan keeps a weather eye on that home, the collapsed walls of the storage house near the shrine make it easy to search without losing sight of one another. In the storehouse, Dawn finds both a polished stone with a mottled pattern and a jar with a bee etched into the clay before it was fired - still full of unspoiled honey.
The next house on Seelah's list presents a new problem. More overgrown than some of the others, sheets of tangled ivy block off the different entrances, and just before she presses on nonetheless Laszlo recognizes it as itchleaf. It would be possible to get through without touching it, but not easy. Still, peering through the small gaps in the foliage, you can see several handcrafted necklaces hanging from strings run across the ceiling - including the one you seek.
"Hmmm... that looks to be something of a tight squeeze. I don't think I would be able to fit through there easily. But if one of you thinks you can, I may be able to assist with a bit of a..." Laszlo pulls a vial of shimmering liquid from his bandolier and shakes it gently while waggling his eyebrows at Amelia. "... preventative! Even if one of us is grazed this should help fight off the painful effects."
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Dawn holds up a hand. ”No need for that. The spirits provide.”
The dwarf begins to dance, then. A pair of shimmering spirits seem to materialize around her, one gentle and protective, the other with a feral bent. She beckons to the latter spirit, which looms over her like a shadow. The shadow envelops Dawn, and her form shifts and shrinks to that of a tiny, wild cat. The cat wiggles her haunches before bounding carefully through the foliage, avoiding the itchleaf.
Once inside the house, the cat changes back into a dwarf. Dawn takes her time searching the home and gathering things off value, then calls on the spirit to transform again. Soon enough, the cat returns to the others and once again becomes Dawn, who smiles and shows the others what she’s found.
Laszlo's head drops as he watches Rising Dawn very effectively circumvent the dangerous (or at least annoying) plants. "Or you can just do that. Nobody respects the preventatives. One day they'll see, one day they'll all see." Slowly, carefully he packs the vial back away on his bandolier.
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"You... can turn into a cat?" Kalla utters in utter Delighted surprise "That is a trick you are going to have to share with the rest of us. If you can share that is."
There are times in her life Kalla does know envy. Like when seeing a prim and proper strut around the pavings with a new Everything and a full belly, or when someone else got to them before pinching to spoil their day.
But turning into a CAT! The Queens of the Alleyways... sigh.
"Is that all the pretties we need?" it has been a week of travel since they learned of the list and Kalla and details are not the best of chums.
Laszlo consults his notes from the meeting with Nelket. "Hmmm... it looks like we still need an idol of a standing bear." He glances at the God-Caller's house. "And a silver bowl with historical engravings. Oh dear that seems valuable." He glances over at the dyemaker's house and it's maintained state. "Hopefully, it is still in the area."
In addition to the ritual necklace, Dawn also finds two other necklaces of hemp and leather, one set with garnets, and the other with stones of jade.
You pause in your search to allow Dawn to commune with her spirits, but before she is finished, Sajan spies movement near the refurbished house. Creeping towards the back of the house is a middle-aged human man, armored in thick hides, and bearing a knobbly staff so new picked that it still has green leaves and vines wrapped around it. It doesn't seem that he's realized Sajan spotted him sneaking.