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"Where were you and your precious archers when the spriggans cut down the threes of my sisters and fed them to the flames? These five heroes have done more to oppose these evil invaders than all the rest of you combined!" Fira the dryad shouts angrily.
"Wild tales!? Come to my grove and see the charred remains of my sisters trees for yourself, centaur! These monsters must be stopped at all cost." Fira calls out, her voice choked with anger and sorrow.
The gentle touch of the unicorn seems to shake Fira from her catatonic state. She looks down on the fey she has just slain. "This was a thorn...a champion of the woodland fey...their valor and courage is legendary, yet he took such pleasure from the pain of my poor sisters. What evil force could have warped him so, I do not know." She rises slowly, and once again moves to her tree. Reaching into the roots once more, she extracts a small woven basket covered with a flimsy, colorful scarf. Then she moves to a small fairy ring of stones and colorful flowers and gently picks one of the last remaining flowers. "The druid you are seeking is Devarre, yes? You will need aid to find him, for he values his solitude, and keeps his home well hidden. This magical flower can produce dust of appearance three times before its power is spent. Use it when you reach the fey-mound in the hills to the west, and it will briefly allow you to see past the glamer and reach him,” Fira says. She pauses for a moment, absently stroking the cloth covering the basket. "These are trinkets and tokens of affection given to my sisters and me by admirers and paramours through the years. They will bring me nothing but painful memories. Please take them as well..." She holds out the flower and the basket. The treasures of the dryad sisters: 66 pp, 229 gp, 461 sp, two diamonds worth 250 gp each, a sapphire ring worth 500 gp, a pair of ruby earrings worth 250 gp, a carved ivory statuette of a rampant stag worth 135 gp, and a small pouch containing dust of dryness.
The dryad breathes a little easier after Meycho's healing touch, although she is still obviously wounded. She rises on shaky feet and looks at Meycho and the rest of the group. "Thank you...If you have any more healing, save it for Palombier...the unicorn...I will be fine. He came to warn us, but they came out of the mist and fell on us before we could even hear him out." She moves to the last standing oak tree and reaches into a hollow among the roots to pull out a slender dagger. "Is that thorny monster dead? If not, stand aside and let me avenge my sisters."
The bound dryad seems dazed and battered. She struggles weakly against her bonds. "Please....free me....my sisters...our grove...please..." she begs in common. A dozen feet from where she struggles, the injured unicorn lies still in the flickering firelight. |
