Search Posts
I, for one, am not going to pass up the opportunity to get to know the lovely trees of the orchard better! And Father Ruvarra too! Wow, is he nice! And respectful of my great wisdom too. But they'll all still be here after the other Pathfinders have gone, so there's something else I'd like to do first. Sprout walks over to Prince and whispers conspiratorially, "Hey Prince, wanna play a game? Its called make Zahkar laugh! He's so serious, and he's not a paladin, so it's not like he's promised his god he'll be serious or anything. Or at least if he did, its a secret promise. Sure, our adventure here was dangerous and scary, but now it's time to put that serious stuff aside and celebrate!"
Oak Sprout's voice gets a bit squeaky as she talks.
"Even adult humans could fall prey to that bile, as Kragrak said, but not just that. Even plants! The bile had Old Red Delicious in your orchard scheming about taking over the world and bending everyone else to his will, and I can tell you, in all my years as an orchard keeper, I've *never* heard a tree talking like that. Come on, mayor. Stand up for what's right, and give the boy another chance."
Sprout hesitates to get near the goo. Puffing her chest up importantly, she says, "I may have a cold iron weapon, but I do not have the same strength of arms as most of you do. Braggett, I would be happy to be the one to perform the most important task of bringing Father Ruvarra here while you all work on those cocoons. I'd like to say he and I became friends in the time we spent together in the orchard."
Sprout stands back and watches the evolving chaos around Gellion, the great cluster of flailing arms and weapons, as well as the growing tide of voices alternately pleading with him and telling him off. She decides there is no real reason to get herself tangled up in that mess. Instead, she takes a seat upon a nearby crate and watches.
Confident that the other PCs have angered the quasit enough that it wouldn't focus its ire on her, Sprout decides to approach. She swings around into a flank with Castiel.
Oak Sprout doesn't want to tangle directly with this thing, but she also knows that she doesn't recognize it. She draws her shiny new cold iron spear that Kragrak bought for her and backs away from the fight. "What did I say about not underestimating small things? Yes, these dangerous beasts are well-known for their ability to turn invisible and enjoyment of the art of ambush. Beyond that, I'm afraid the spirits of nature are silent."
Oak Sprout matches Kragrak's pace. "An abandoned warehouse, huh? I wonder what we'll find there? When I think of warehouses, I think of rats, with their nasty little gnawing teeth. Not as bad as squirrels, mind you." She frowns, adjusting her acorn cap carefully. "Ooze-squirrels. Now those would truly be creatures of nightmare..."
In response to Kragrak's question about the bloody message, Sprout says, "Sure looks like it. Just goes to show that it's important not to underestimate small people. We can be fierce! Not that I go around killing people like the doll was trying to do, but, well, you get my point." When she reaches the door to the room where the rest of the PCs are, she thinks, Yeaaah, I'd really rather not go in there. She puffs up her chest, holds her cold iron longspear at the ready, and says, "I have appointed myself the official guardian of this door. I will watch for threats so the rest of you can investigate in peace."
Oak Sprout narrows her eyes in mock annoyance at Kragrak before grinning, “All right, give ‘em here, you big boulder.” She grabs the enchanted berries out of Kragrak’s hands and smashes them up against her cheeks, painting them with a rosy hue. She then eats the squashed fruit. As she does, the wound on her face closes entirely.
When the dagger hit her, Sprout yelped in surprise and pain.
She pouts and grumbles quietly, “Stupid bloody doll...” When Kibble goes over to lick her, however, the pup’s affection quickly raises her spirits. “Now you are a true friend, Kibble.” She gratefully rubs his belly. “ Don’t feel bad about being surprised. We all were.”
“Hey, wait for me!” Sprout gets up from her seat among the nearby grasses and charges forth into the building. When she reaches the front room, the wall of foul stench assails her senses. “Ugh, yuck! You said something about a kitchen? Whatever they are cooking in there makes me glad I don’t have a stomach. Unless...” Her voice trembles, “Unless what’s rotting is...oh no...” Steeling herself, she follows Braggett. It’s only right to let the knight go first. It has nothing to do with her own fear, or at least that’s what she tells herself.
Oak Sprout is relieved and delighted that her words were able to help Red. She plans to stay here for a little while longer, probably rejoining the party after their next investigation spot. She asks Father Ruvarra, "Would you like to stay here with me in the orchard for a bit while they run off to Pricknettle's or wherever they are going next? I can translate any questions you want to ask the trees. When Nolaria comes back, I can help her talk to the trees too! I bet she'll like that!" Sprout thinks back about what the trees said to the party about the kids. "Oh! Does Nolaria have a bird? The trees said they like the girl with the bird and she talks to them politely. Then maybe she's already friends with everyone."
Oak Sprout straightens up at Zakhar's compliment, fluffing up the leaves that cover her body like an owl might fluff the feathers on its chest. "Haralson, it seems, is still all right. He feels like he was coming out of a nightmare, and is confused. As for Red, he's screaming. It's pretty unsettling. He is pleading to the voices to come back. Let me talk to them some more and see what else I can find out. But I need to comfort them first. And Kragrak? I'm going to need to stay here for a little while. When you are ready, go on without me." Sprout walks up to Haralson and wraps her arms around his trunk, and then speaks to him in the language of trees. "Haralson, you were sick, but now you are better. There was a strange, evil goo that was covering you up and whispering to you in evil voices. You don't have to worry about it any more. You're safe now. Red was sick a lot longer than you were, so it might take him some time to recover. I'm going to talk to him now, OK? I'll be here for a while. I'm not leaving." Turning to Red, she says in Common, "Oh, Red... We need to talk, tree to tree." Oak sprout plants her roots firmly in the soil. They grow and reach out from her in all directions. Her green and pulpy skin hardens into oak bark, and the leaves from her armor migrate upward, taking their places on the branches that sprout from her head. When the process is over, she has turned her body entirely into a 3-foot tall oak tree. "Red. You're going to be all right. You had the voices for a while, and they told you what you should do. Now you are scared and upset because they are gone. It's OK to be scared and upset. Those voices were like rotten fruit infested with weevils and mold. They felt like normal fruit when you held them on your branches, but they were poison. They stopped everyone from hearing your voice. Your true voice, Red. Haralson is your friend. All of the trees in the orchard have been worried about you. They care about you, and they want to hear your real voice again."
Normally, the opportunity to play with children and her new favorite pooch would be irresistible, but not after what she has just witnessed. Sprout hangs by the door while the others go inside to talk to Father Ruvarra, fidgeting impatiently. When the party leaves the temple, she hurries along with them. Her speech starts solemn and serious, but it grows increasingly frantic, "Father Ruvarra, I can tell you what the bile did to the minds of the trees it's infected. One of them is furious, obsessed with control and destruction. He commanded bugs to kill me. *ME*. He knew what I was, and yet..." Sprout shudders. "Perhaps even more awful, one of the other trees was confused and scared and voice were telling him to do bad things. He was still fighting against it, but his mind was fading, and, and, we have to hurry! "
Oak Sprout recoils, and she stares at Prince in abject horror. "WHAT did you say? Burn down the orchard? Murder Pink Lady and Mac and Granny and Red and Haralson!?!"
Happy for the temporary diversion from the situation at hand, Oak Sprout asks Princess, "Are you saying the kiss of a frog turned you into a spirit? I've heard stories that say frog kisses having magical powers, but I thought they were just stories. Or maybe that was the princess kissing the frog to make him turn from a frog into a human? Why would he want to stop being a frog, anyway? Legends are confusing."
"Braggett's right," Oak Sprout says. "I'll stand back here, where you don't have to worry about how dangerous it would be if I got infected." Her voice catches a bit on the last word, and she falls silent, thinking, I have to be brave. This goo is awful. I can't do anything to help, at least not yet. Once it's cleared away, I can talk Red and the others and help them heal their minds.
Sprout usually isn't much one for fighting, doubly so with this fearsome goo. The tree's threats clearly rattle her, and she shrieks it terror. Clutching her spear tightly, she hides behind Kragrak and Castiel. She checks to see if she knows anything about the bugs that she could share with the group.
Oak Sprout stands up tall and brave, brandishing her spear with a flourish. "How awful! We cannot allow such a substance to continue to despoil your orchard. We shall go to their aid with haste. Perhaps once we have helped them recover, they will be able to tell us more about the source of their malady. I am quite loyal to Kragrak here," she says, pointing to the oread, "but I have not forgotten that the care of orchards is my most natural and sacred duty." Sprout tries to see if she knows anything about this goo.
Sense Motive DC 11: Though she attempts to hide it, a small shiver of fear creeps up Oak Sprout's body, revealing her true feelings about this terrible and mysterious substance with the power to corrupt the minds of plants. Still, since this task involves fulfilling both of her primary loyalties, she's unwilling to back down.
Sprout signals for the rest of the party to hold back for a moment. To the party, she says, "Let me talk first, then I can translate what you want to say too, okay? As long as you are respectful. I'm not going to make these fine trees listen to anything rude." She then proudly steps to the front of the group, giving the trees a respectful curtsey. Her plantspeech is more elegant and verbose than her Common. "I am Oak Sprout. It is truly a pleasure to meet all of you! And thank you, Pink Lady, for comparing me to such vibrant and beautiful apples as yours. I assure you, Granny, that I am not a weed, but instead a nature spirit given walking form, as Mac has so astutely noticed. My companions and I have come to this place because we heard that there was trouble afoot, with missing children and giant insects, and we wished to offer our assistance. Its plain to see by looking around here that the humans have not been giving you the respect and care that you deserve. If it is not to much trouble, we would greatly appreciate if you would share with us your insights into what has been amiss around here."
In response to Wetbeard's comment about insects near the bakery, Oak Sprout says, "Let's go there first. No one likes flies in their pie! Besides, when we go to the orchard, I'll need time to properly commune with the apple trees. I don't want people rushing me so they can get their bakery treats. Apple trees are quite delightful and generous people." When they group reaches the bakery, she notices the broken cart, and tries to think of a way to fix it.
Well, I'm certainly not going to impress him with a show of Strength!
The spirits take little interest in human wars, it seems. Oh well. I suppose my natural charm will have to suffice, hehe.
Truly, your delicious treats draw people from all around, even plants such as myself.
She whispers to Wetbeard: Could I please have a small piece of whatever you're buying? Kragrak wouldn't want me to "waste" a whole desert.
She is so engrossed in her curiosity about their conversation that she remains entirely oblivious to the nature of the conversation inside Dependable Drummady's. "Shoes are far less interesting than buttons and clothes anyway. Now, if only there was someone who sold hats... No,focus," she chides herself. "Too much time thinking about clothes and shiny buttons, not enough time proving your knowledge to these Pathfinders."
Realizing that she can't actually remember the last time Kragrak washed that scrap of fabric, Oak Sprout decides to exit the conversation. This fabric's so pretty, she thinks, I wonder if it's as soft as it looks? And these buttons look delightful to play with! The leshy walks over to Wetbeard and joins him in straightening the fabric and tidying the buttons. Wetbeard. mind if I give you a hand? This man's got enough to worry about." That's true, she justifies to herself, "Even if it wasn't the first thing I thought about.
Oak Sprout giggles with glee at Sir Kibble's reaction. Lord Braggett's warning gives her pause, but just for a moment. "I appreciate the concern, Braggett, but look at him!" Sir Kibbles is too fluffy and adorable to resist, so she approaches him slowly and scratches him behind the ears. "Ooooh, you're such a good boy! Yes you are!" When Braggett and Kibbles get up to go to haberdashery, she follows suit. Her heart goes out to the poor, sobbing man in the corner. She runs over to Kragrak and pulls out a small scrap of cloth from his pack.
Oak Sprout beams at Wetbeard, "Thanks! She sticks the solid food in her mouth for a while before discreetly spitting it out into a small satchel, out of Alcie's view. The once-appetizing food is now a damp mash peppered with bits of dead leaves. She confides in Wetbeard, "Kragrak doesn't usually order me food at taverns. He says that its a waste because I can't 'draw nourishment' from it and people might be offended when I spit out their food. Bah. Still feels interesting in my mouth. And no one tells him he can't enjoy going out in the sun just because he can't 'draw nourishment' from it." Noticing Kibble's awkward but eager feeding, she offers her bag of food to him. "Maybe Kibble would still like it."
Oak Sprout follows the others back downstairs. Before they reach the common area, she comments to Wetbeard, "Did you decide not to take anyone's socks because the paladin was watching?" To Castiel, she says, "All paladins say stealing is bad, right? Don't worry--Kragrak doesn't steal. I think he's too worried about getting in trouble sometimes, to be honest."
Oak Sprout beams at Kragrak like a proud parent, content that she can take a break from her self-imposed--and, in her opinion, underappreciated--quest to encourage him to socialize. With this temporary reprieve from responsibility, she decides to indulge her own curiosity and follow Wetbeard up the stairs. When she gets close, she whispers to Wetbeard and Wanda, "Hey, have you found any more sweaty socks up here? Why are you guys looking for dirty laundry anyway? I'm sure you can find plenty back at the Grand Lodge when we get back."
Oak Sprout enthusiastically requests tea. She selects a seat across from Lord Braggart, flashing him a smile. Instead of discretely enjoying it from a saucer on the floor, this time she directly stands in the teacup. "This tea is delicious, Holly! Thank you so much for brewing it for us. Oh, and Wetbeard, does Wanda want some? I wouldn't want her to feel left out." The leshy makes a sound reminiscent of clearing a throat, though it sounds a bit distorted and squishy, as the structure of her throat is far different from a human's. "We shall do our best, Madam Mayor, to find and help the apprentices. I've heard that you've had your fair share of troubles around here, even before these recent issues. I know we're not the kind of people you are used to, but don't be scared. We are good at what we do."
The plant creature sighs with exasperation and turns to Zarta, "Please forgive him, my lady. Kragrak is a good fellow, really, but he's not much one for talking. My name is Oak Sprout, and I am Kragrak's loyal companion. This body is only a few years old, but in truth, I am an ancient spirit of nature, blessed with great knowledge. I'm certain you all will be glad to have me along. And, my lady, as to your generous offer, I would be happy to have some tea, so long as you don't mind me pouring it into a saucer so it can absorb better through my roots." She then turns her attention back to Kragrak, "Come on, Kragrak, at least take a seat at the table and tell them a *little* more about yourself." |
