Rasina notes the creature passing along the path, shadowing the group, she risks a glance at Mikka, but sees Mikka is unfortunately distracted. She keeps quiet now, wondering if maybe this place is more hazardous than the Desolation outside its borders. The more time passes, the more she is convinced this is the case.
Noting both the creature, and Rasina's worried frown, Veren mentions to her: "Brighten up - at least here we may be able to negotiate for our lives. I will take the threat of violence over the certainty of it any day." And with a grin he adds: "I believe you guys were in camp until but a few days ago? Well, we've been rummaging through the Desolation for onto two months now - believe me, this place feels nothing short of paradise right now."
Veren:
The Reclaimer looks Mikka up and down as you walk deeper into the green, now curving slightly to the left, so that the wall of thorns is always twenty-feet away. "So, are you a member of the Shalm-lord's faithful, then?"
Mikka, the Shalm-lord is another nature deity, harsher than Freya but aligned on most issues.
Knowledge Nature aabout reclaimers
Nadeq open his eyes and squints them in the light. He blinks several times and look around at each of his companions, seemingly unconcerned by his nakedness.
”I... I don't know. I feel renewed. And it's i more than just my body, my spirit has changed as well. I feel I have a purpose. A mission. And there is something more I can't put my finger on. Something about the Desolation has changed. I can... Feel it. Just as I can feel the life of this forrest”
At this he turn towards Mikka, still unconcerned by his lack of clothing, and look sincerely at her for a few seconds before making a quiet nod in appreciation.
---
Nadeq gasp for air and starts trembling again. As suddenly as it began, it is over again.
Breathing heavy and looking exhausted he holds up his arms before his eyes to study the armor of bones that has surrounded his body and the healed wounds on Veren.
"Well that was certainly... Interesting." he says, again speaking the common language.
Before the others can ask any question he says
"I don't know what happened or how I did that. I felt.. guided somehow. like someone or something looked through my eyes."
"You're still injured. Let me try it again" he says and grab Veren by the arm.
Closing his eyes and holding his hand over the wounds he starts mumbling. Again the energy erupts from the ground, not so powerfull this time though, and run through Nadeq into Veren, closing his wounds.
Veren feels giddy with the prospect of fresh liquor, to Rasina "Okay, it was just a week - but it was a week that had all the marks of eternity on it."
Shaking his arm out once, twice Veren looks over to Nadeq, nodding his head, impressed. "I don't know what it is, but just a little while ago I was feeling I'd pass out any moment - now I can breathe easy again and my side mostly just itches now." Pondering to self "It did feel weird though, as if cold was fighting cold."
Mikka, the Shalm-Lord grants spells to his faithful, but he does not deign to communicate very clearly with Civilized races. So his doctrine is compiled by druids and other leaders of his church. It is long and winding, with many generations adding insights almost at random, with nobody daring to strike out any older aphorism that might be contradicted. His sacred writings almost end up sounding like "insights that we've gotten over the centuries while praying for spells." It's all in Druidic, which keeps it more or less on topic. (By comparison, Freya actually guides her church and her faithful's understanding of the natural world.)
In all of that, there are four basic tenets of the Shalmist faith that act as touchstones; one of these is dranscotia, which mean "reclaiming" or "taking back". The Shalm's priests feel it is their duty to help nature recover territory that Civilization tries to claim. You remember, early in your training, helping a gnomish druid of the Shalm-lord speed the decay and "reclaiming" of a mill whose owner had died the previous year.
"Freya is my guide, but I have met and worked with reclaimers before. I have great respect for your mission, especiallyy out here."
Rasina turns to the Reclaimer escorting the group, and asks, "So your purpose here is to reclaim the Desolation from the devastation wrought by the Last War between the Army of Light, and the Prince of Undeath?"
"Yes. Ordinarily, dranscotia are enacted against the sterility of the cities, the ravenous avarice of Civilization. But here, our task is to bring renewed life from the heart of death. It is a different task, and harder, but what worthwhile task is easy?"
Nadeq, you think it might be prudent to keep quiet about your patroness for the moment.
Rasina makes a note to check with Nadeq on his 'conversion', he certainly has changed, Healing powers??
She continues the conversation,"So, how long do you expect this process to take? Months, years, decades? Also, have the lands of the Desolation been growing, despite your efforts?"
Veren laughs at Rasina: "Look around you, does this look like success? But allow me to add to the questions: how long have the reclaimers already been working in the Desolation? I cannot imagine this having only started recently."
The Reclaimer smiles. "My, my. I had forgotten how curious civilized folks can be! All your questions, and more, will be answered. But now, I have one for you: what do you know of the people of the 'Camp' over that way?" she asks, gesturing to the southwest.
Rasina glances at the Reclaimer, trying to get a read on her motivation for the question.
"Well, we did not spend much time in the Camp, to be honest with you," as she indicates Mikka and Nadeq. We joined forces with others who had another mission, so we did not tarry long since I felt it unwise. We know of the Usurer, who runs the place, but others in the Camp, I am not familiar with."
It wasn't a casual question, but her motives remain her own, it would seem.
"You survived a meeting with the warden of the Camp? How so?"
"We assisted him when some cretures attacked the Camp, and we were caught up in the middle of the attack. That was part of the reason why we left the Camp so quickly."
"What ... sort of creatures," she asks.
You can tell that you're now moving around the hedge of thorns, at a distance of about ten feet. There are indeed skulls woven throughout it, many of them once belonging to demons. Up ahead you can see an orc making his way to you, dressed in the skins of some beast, holding a scimitar in his hand.
"We are not sure of their exact nature but they were definitely fiensidh in origin."
As Rasina explains about the battle, the orc comes within earshot. He listens, and then turns a glance at your guide. "Sandravia?" he asks. She nods, tentatively.
Intelligence check, DC 23:
The woman guestures toward the orc. "This is my colleague. He is, of course, another Reclaimer. Reclaimer, these are the guests that came from the desert. They said they're looking for an elf woman, a companion who might have arrived within the last day or so*. I told them I hadn't seen anyone fitting that description, but I would ask.
* Sense Motive, DC 15:
Rasina watches the orc carefully and waits for his response. The only note of concern is the narrowing of her eyes as the first Reclaimer explains to the orc their situation.
Veren, noting the concern, adds: "We're quite sure she came through here recently, Mikka" - pointing to the druid - "is an excellent tracker. I'm worried for Vilgara, she is quite possibly wounded; and she might be the last of my former companions."
The orc replies, "I don't --"
And your guide interrupts him, "She might still be here, but many people leave, frightened by the guardians. If she is indeed in our forest, we will make sure you're reunited."
Sense Motive, DC 21:
Perception, DC 14:
Rasina replies to her, "Yes, I certainly hope so, we have missed her company greatly. Do you have any idea who may have seen her and tended her wounds?"
Sense motive
Perception
Mikka nods quietly, taking in the interaction.
The orc looks confused. "What wounds? The elf--"
"Would find that any wounds she might have heal more rapidly here." says the woman, smoothly slipping in to finish her fellow's sentence. Her eyes narrow as she looks at Rasina. " What makes you think this 'Vilgara' was wounded?"
Veren catches the confusion in the orc's demeanor - and decides to switch angles. "There is also a different matter entirely. A more personal one if you will. I'm a descendant of Baccus, and devout a son to my Father. Unfortunately I am beginning to see the limits of my reserves - and I'm hoping that you can help me by trading any fermented liquors you may have."
A half-dozen emotions play across the orc's face in as many seconds: irritation, confusion, indignation, embarrassment, serenity, and then a little smile. He laughs the way orcs do. "You may be in luck, Son of the Grapelord. We have had little in the way to drink, these past --, since we began our work here, but we've had some fruit vines ripening for months now, and we've decanted some of the juice. It might still take some processing, but I think we might have something servicable by veacher, that is, by sundown.
Mikka:
Rasina replies smoothly, "i am going by what Mikka tells me of course, her tracks were erratic and there were traces of blood along the tracks she left."
Veren absentmindedly nods his head at Rasina's words
Your guide looks concerned, "Still bleeding, eh? Oh dear. Well, as we say, these lands nurture the body and repair injuries. If she made it this far, she might have left once her wounds were healed, or she might still be in hiding. Or she might be alergic to the flowers here, and left. I promise you, if your bleeding elf is here, we will find her."
Sense Motive, DC 19;
A smile welcomes the orc's words, and Veren warms up to the orc: "I don't have much left, but I can share what I do have - I think maybe some Linnorm mead may remind you of home?"
"Thank you very much for your concern, she is a dear friend."
Your guide stares at Rasina for a moment. "It's been a while since I spoke with an outsider. I'd forgotten how civilized it makes me feel."
She turns to the smilodon, points to you four, and issues a command. Then she casts another spell to heal more of its wounds.
She turns then to Mikka. "We will discuss you and your 'dear friend', the prodigal elf. Wait for our return here. Marah!" And then she leads the orc off, before he can engage Veren in any more discussions of brewstuff, to the south and east. The enormous beetle follows behind. The smilodon, and any other lurking animals, remain behind.
Mikka:
So far as you can tell, you are alone to speak freely.
In a somewhat quiet voice, "Well... this is... different. There certainly are more things under the sun than we can ever hope to imagine."
Rasina replies to him, "Yes we have run into many examples of civilization, full of filth and debris. Some feel it is good to clean up such messes."
Veren nods. "Though I think there is more to this place then meets the eye, we should have a look around to see if we can lend a hand."
Mikka sits down in the grass crossing her legs under her.
"We remain here. Death walks all around us."
Veren was wandering about in the desert at the time. But everyone else ... might remember. Perhaps, if you make it back to the rendez-vous in time, you could ask the other party members...
Yes, among the three of you who fought the fiendish peryton in Camp the day before yesterday, you prod one another's memories and recall that "Sandravia" was one of the rangers who lived in Camp, who made a living as guides through the Desolation. She tried to help you fight the peryton and its shadow, and the Usurer killed her for her trouble.
Nadeq shakes his head. His voice has the throaty growl that goblins have, but his phrasing and intonation is classic Nadeq: "I'm stumped, friends. How would these Reclaimers know her?"
Veren, did your old team have any way to contact one another, if ever you were separated? Like signal whistles or flares?
Rasina smiles at Nagdeq, relieved to hear him sound like her old friend. "Correct me if I am wrong, Mikka, but rangers and druids often share common goals and interests. Sandravia could have been working with the Reclaimers, or allied with them in some way. If so, then the Reclaimers do not count the Usurer as a friend."
"Absolutely. They would owe him vengance, and a Druid's memory is long."
The birthmark on Veren's neck appears slightly darker, more obvious right now. "Vilgara and the gang... typically our group relied on faith to guide us. It was more than once that I was reunited with my friends by them following the drunken bawdy tunes. Why, I think I feel one coming on right now." Veren laughs as he unstoppers his little keg of Baccusbrew and takes a deep draught. He offers it around for any that want a swig almost as fast as he breaks into a catchy tune; the one nearly every drunkard knows without being taught; the words, this time, sound like this:
"If all the young ladies were little white rabbits
I'd be a hare and I'd teach 'em bad habits
If all the young ladies were sweet fruits and berries
I'd handle their melons and nibble their cherries
If all the young girls were like cows in the pasture
I'd be a bull and fill them with rapture
If all the young girls were like mares in the stable
I'd be a stallion and show them I'm able
If all the young ladies were locks on a gate
I'd be a key and insert and rotate
If all the young ladies were winds of the sea
I'd be a sail and I'd let them blow me
I wish all the girls were like statues of Venus
I'd be a man with a petrified penis."
Veren looks over to Rasina; "Join in lass! Or don't you know the words? Hah! Just make'em up as you go! Like this:
If all the young lads were fine silks and laces
And I were an iron, I'd sit on their faces!"
Veren laughs a hearty laugh - right out of the belly - and just goes on singing, swigging between every few verses.
Rasina just stares at Veren like he has lost his mind, Doesn't he know how much danger we are in right now?, but after a few moments, the old verses, ones she learned many years ago, start coming tot he forefront, verses she remember her parents performing, and also verses she heard with were really racy. A slow flush builds on her face, as she starts humming some of the notes, and then she starts singing along with Veren, although she does keep her voice down.
Your former hostess returns after several minutes and waits for you to stop your infantile singing.
"We have a proposal for you."