"I think Fathers Eamon and Kurvis are keeping it placated somehow. You could probably ask them about it," Alba offers. "Ghosts aren't really my area of expertise."
The two clerics share the large house next to the chapel. Even before Abigail reaches the door, she can hear voices arguing inside.
"Do you mind? I am trying to concentrate here!"
"What? I'm just whittling."
"You are whittling VERY LOUDLY!"
"I am whittling at a reasonable volume. I think your ears are just hyper-sensitive."
"I'll give you some hyper-sensitive ears, you pompous buffoon!"
After knocking on the door, one of the voices calls for her to enter. Inside she can see Eamon Caranth sitting on a chair whittling a block of wood. The tall half-elf has straw-colored hair and infectious smile. Kurvis Nurpico sits at a nearby desk, numerous parchments spread out before him. He is a relatively short man with a slight stoop to his shoulders and short steel-grey hair.
"Can we help you?" Kurvis grumbles.
"Oh, don't mind Father Grouse over there," Eamon says. "His default state is 'grumpy.' Blessings of Erastil be upon you, neighbor! Do you seek spiritual guidance?"
Eamon smiles at Abigail's humble request. "It's a nice bow, isn't it? The church of Erastil gave me one just like it before I left Andoran. It makes a nice decoration on the wall, but it was designed to be used as a weapon. If your mission will benefit the community, I'd be happy to let you use it."
"Really, Father Easy?" Kurvis says, looking up from his work. "You're just going to loan out church property, just like that? At least make her put a deposit down. Or have her sign a waiver promising reimbursement in the event of loss or damage to the bow."
Eamon clucks his tongue. "Followers of Abadar count coins. Followers of Erastil count friends!"
"How about you count how many fingers I'm holding up? I'll make it easy for you--it's only one," Kurvis grumbles.
Eamon rolls his eyes. "Ignore him, please."
Arma spends the week working with Alba, making a few potions, and using her notes from studying the found spellbook to begin developing some ideas for new extracts, although the actual means of creating them eludes her. When the request from Alba comes in, she's only too happy to pay back the older alchemist for her help.
Relia laughs at Abigail's statement. "First time seeing those two in the same room together? I spent most of my time above decks after I introduced myself. I'm working on a small shrine to Gozreh in my still room. You can pray there if you want."
"Of course we will help. I'd like to take a look at the surrounding area anyway. I haven't left the colony in a week."
Once you are ready, you depart Talmandor's Bounty, heading east towards the island's interior. According to the map, it should take you about half a day to reach your destination. You travel across a wide stream and through the forest, passing by tall outcroppings of rock.
You continue traveling for a few more hours before reaching your destination. A small hill rises in the center of a copse of trees, their numbers thinning along the incline. A number of trees adorn the hill like the tines of a crown, and in their shadows grow odd-looking ferns, mushrooms, and bushes resplendent with berries of an unusual color.
Abigail is able to climb up an oak tree at the base of the hill to keep watch on its crown. As she peers down at the strange plants, she something concealed among the bushes--a gnarled vine, as thick as a man's arm and bearing hand-shaped leaves, convulses slightly as it lies in wait.
"Oh. That might be a good idea. I'm not sure they would like it though. Sniping at each other is one of their favorite past times.
"Are these the things we are looking for?" Relia starts up the hill looking at the plants.
Tessa stands back. Having prepared a few more offensive spells in preparation for the expedition, she nods at Abigail's assessment of the creature, "Well, may as well take care of it while we're here. Last thing we need is for a colonist to stumble on it and get strangled."
Once the others are ready, she shoots the vine with a blast of cold, freezing a nearby shrub solid.
"Hmmm... I guess I'm out of practice."
As Tessa's ray of frost whizzes past the vine, it begins to thrash and slowly wiggle towards you!
Tessa pulls out her crossbow, "Ah, of course. Cold won't scratch it. Forgot that."
"And I guess that week off really wrecked my aim."
"Well as I recall, your aim wasn't exactly great in the first place," Arma says. She moves to about 30 feet from the assassin vine and throws a dagger at it.
"What kind of plant is resistant to fire and cold? That's not right." Relia wings a sling bullet at it.
As your projectiles fly harmlessly past the vine, it surges forward, slithering through the grass. As it draws near, the trees, grass and bushes start to writhe and grasp at you!
Tessa avoids the grasping vines, skipping backwards as she fires her crossbow again.
Relia manages to jump back out of the way of the plant. She drops her sling and pulls out her trident. She stabs at the writing vine on the ground.
Arma slips between the entangling roots and closes to melee. She clumsily tries to avoid the assassin vine's long reach with her movements, but not even her natural luck can overcome her inexperience, and she leaves herself wide open. Even so, she attacks with her dagger.
And doesn't even get close.
Relia draws her trident and drives it in to the wriggling plant, driving its tines deep into its thick body.
Abigail fires arrows from on high, scoring one glancing hit.
Tessa grazes it with her own crossbow bolt.
Arma moves in and stabs at the vine, but fails to land a good hit.
The vine rears up and lashes out at Relia. It strikes the cleric and quickly wraps around her, squeezing her tightly. Bones crack in its grasp and the blood rushes to Relia's head as she passes out from the pain!
Tessa yelps as the vines continue trying to ensnare her, and she retreats a significant way away, climbing a tree if she can manage it.
Again, Arma slips away, and slashes at the assassin vine.
Abigail drives two arrows into the assassin vine. As Tessa scrambles away and clambers a few feet up a tree, Arma slashes the vine with her daggers, scoring two deep slices.
The vine is badly damaged, but still active. It drops Relia and lashes out at Arma! Wrapping around the alchemist, it squeezing her tightly, crushing her and knocking her unconscious as well!
"Arma! Not again.... Didn't we just go through this last week?" Tessa maneuvers herself to where she can reload and fire her crossbow (dropping to the ground if needed), and shoots a bolt at the vine.
Relia continues to bleed out on the ground.
As Abigail's shots fall short, Tessa reloads and launches a bolt into the meat of the vine. It releases Arma and falls limply to the floor. The writhing plants normal, leaving a clear path to where Arma and Relia are bleeding out...
"Ah! Okay, let's see...." Tessa rushes over, discarding her crossbow as she runs over. She pulls out both healing potions they have and pour them down each of their's throats, Relia first, then Arma.
While Relia is stable, she remains unconscious. Arma's eyes flutter open.
Arma tries to sit up too soon and regrets it immediately. She opens her mouth to speak and goes into a coughing fit. "Damn...plant...thought I, didn't need my mutagen..." With shaking hands, she pulls out one of her extracts. "Give this to Relia, more important that she's up."
Once you have recovered from the battle with the vine, you are able to gather the reagents Alba has asked for. There is a veritable cornucopia of rare alchemical substances here that will serve the dwarf well.
"Gather around. She channels energy away from the vine. After the group gathers the reagents. "Are we ready to go back? I'm not keen on running into another plant like that."
You gather the reagents and return to Talmandor's Bounty. Alba is grateful for the delivery. "Ah, these are exactly what I had hoped for! Thank you, my friends. Just let me know what alchemical items or potions you desire and I will get to work brewing them up!"
"Any splash weapon will work well, but alchemist's fire is probably the most effective way to deal with them. I can also make you vermin repellent to deter insects from getting near you," Alba says.
"That sounds wonderful Alba. I wonder if we can get some cure light wound potions from the clerics?" She gives Abigail a look. "I'll brave the shrine today."
Relia makes her way to the shrine, and knocks on the door. She sticks her head in the door when she hears voices.
"Good day Eamon, and Mr. Nurpico. How are things going? I was wondering if there are any tasks that you need done. I'd like to exchange work for some curing potions, and a wand of cure light wounds if possible." She waits for their response with a smile. "We've been doing some work for Alba, and ran afoul of a angry vine. It nearly took us out."
"Aye, give me a couple of days and I will have them ready," Alba says, chuckling at the ranger's enthusiasm.
---
"An angry vine? I didn't know plants could feel emotions," Eamon says.
"Trap it in a room with you, Father Easy, and I'm sure even a shrubbery would learn how to be annoyed," Kurvis counters.
"Well, we've been stuck together for months, and you still haven't learned how to be happy, Father Grouse!" Eamon retorts.
"I'll learn how to be happy the day you learn how to be quiet!" Kurvis grumbles.
Eamon sighs. "Sorry, Sister Relia. He's always like this. At any rate, neither one of us can make potions or wands. Alba can likely brew healing potions for you if you ask her. I can make wondrous items, though, if you have enough money to pay for the necessary components."
"And I can scribe scrolls of cure light wounds or cure moderate wounds" Kurvis says, "for the appropriate amount of compensation."
Arma leaves deciding how the fruits of their labor should be used to the others, in favor of licking her wounds and studying her alchemical notes to no real gain. IE, she's sulking in her bunk.
As Arma sulks, Anya Sandstrider sits down in the bunk next to hers. The Shoanti woman has her head shaved and sports several tattoos of runic and animal totems representing the moon and owls. She and the alchemist had begun a quiet friendship on the Peregrine, and now the huntress grunts as she looks at her bunkmate.
"You look not happy. Latest hunt not go in your favor?" Anya asks in a thick Cinderlands accent.
"Of course. I'll keep your skills in mind."
She sighs. "My healing isn't keeping up with the scrapes we get ourselves in. I do my best to contribute, but when the vine knocks you unconscious it's hard to contribute. Others had to save me, and revive me to keep me from death. Do you have any suggestions?" Relia asks the two clerics.