Conrad, inconspicuously, casts detect magic and checks out the mercenaries during the conversation.
"Well? prompts the mercenary who is becoming visibly agitated, "you have the vial. Now let Grelm go."
"Alright alright" says Iflen and kicks Grelm foward "Oh and your little goblin friend is dead, thats what happens to people that piss me off"
Iflen cringes even to himself at the pun. "Good day to you all... oh and if I see you again I'll be sure to run you through with your own sword" he says to Grelm with a disconcerting wink.
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The vanquished killers keep their eyes downcast as they make their retreat. When they reach the southern edge of the grove the elf woman shakes her fist at the heroes and curses, "may Urgothoa eat your souls!" They then disappear into the forest.
"Ok so we have 3 of then so where are the others?" says Iflen probingly "What did that riddle thing say again conrad?
"Onyx, please follow them from a safe distance and make sure they REALLY leave ... Be sure that fresh fruit awaits you if we make it back to the inn my feathery friend."
"The riddle .. ah yes .. the riddle .. Let me get it."
Conrad fumbles around in his scrollcase and presents the riddle.
Lofy stone reaching higher, holds in its grasp the sacred fire.
Two miles toward the sun’s first fire, the earth’s embrace will still its ire.
A league to the west in sacred mother’s home, the royal water is returned to its own.
Northwest four miles the image flies, atop forest giant in azure skies.
Six miles north at forest’s heart, where name and namesake no longer part.
"I'm sure the sacred fire is the breastplate, the royal water could be the vial and the wand could possibly be the earths ire ..."
"Leaving us to solve to location of the forest giant and the place where name and namesake .. no longer .. part ?"
"It looks like we have a solution to the riddle."
"Perhaps Onyx can fly up and spot the center of the forest, and perhaps the largest tree in the forest."
"But we'll have to wait for my feathered friend to return."
"I would dearly like to know if those thugs are really leaving."
A long while later Onyx flutters back. Indeed there is a great tree to the northwest. Something white and cylindrical has been tied to one of it's upper branches. It saw no creatures or guardians menacing the area below.
Further to the north the clever crow saw something surprising: a large house. Beside the house is a garden which is being tended to by a satyr.
To the south are the mercenaries, walking on the trail out of the forest.
"Perhaps we should make our way to the forest center and see what we can find there."
"Or perhaps the house with a the Satyr ..."
"He lives near the grove, perhaps he has some more information about the items."
"If he knew the druid, which is likely, we can also inform him of the unfortunate death of the druid ..."
"If he knew the druid, which is likely, we can also inform him of the unfortunate death of the druid ..."
"Yes! and that the mighty heroes have avenged his death! onwards to the satyr! err which way is it?" asks Iflen rushing off into the trees
With no choice but to follow impulsive young Iflen, the party enters the forest once again ...
An ancient road winds its way north. Dimly visible in the green gloom ahead is a wide, vine-covered house. It is surrounded by a enchanted garden where pixies and other tiny fey creatures frolic. A satyr in a leather apron trots out the front door to greet the adventurers.
"Welcome, friends, to the Spirit of the Wood Inn! Goodness, you all look as if you've been wrestling wolves and bears! Come, let's get you cleaned ...
The satyr freezes when he notices the Breastplate strapped onto Iflen's back. There is great fear in his moss-green eyes.
"Yes .. we failed to at least capture them .. but we figured the sacred items are worth far more then 3 thieves behind bars."
"Please good sir, we have no harm in mind ... we we're sent on an errand to retrieve the items from Willowroot to have shroud made of the long dead king whose artifacts he was guarding."
"We have no intention of keeping the artifacts for ourselves, but are borrowing the items for a short while."
"Alas we do not know where to bring them after the items have been used ... perhaps you could help us ?"
The satyr slumps against a door frame.
"Willowroot is dead? Murdered? No, no, it cannot be so. And you want the rest of King Narven's treasure? Hold on, how do I know you didn't kill Willowroot yourselves?"
"Willowroot was the gentlest, most trusting human I've ever met. He wouldn't be able to cause such harm. You have other pieces besides the armor? How were you able to get past the guardians?"
"Guardians?" says Iflen cocking an eyebrow "We never encountered no guardians"
"No guardians? That makes me very worried. Oh well, can you give me the breastplate and whatever else you retrieved? I too am a guardian of King Narven's Panoply, you see."
"The directions are written on the standing stones of Skywell Grove. We put it there so that others may retrieve the panoply, in the event that something unfortunate befell us. Which, alas, happened sooner than we thought."
"I ... I don't know what this 'shroud' is supposed to be, but if this man's intentions are good, then I may consider it. Ask him to come visit me here. But not immediately, for I need time to bury Willowroot and grieve."
"I too am sorry you had to hear this terrible news from a group of strangers."
"I wish it had all turned out otherwise, and the least I can do is offer my help to bury him ... if you will allow it ofcourse."
The satyr accepts Conrad's offer. He follows the heroes back to Skywell Grove in silence. On the way they are joined by a centaur, an ancient wild gnome and other strange fey creatures. The remains of Willowroot and the other fallen guardians, a bear and a pixie, are retrieved and laid to rest in the grove. A towering treant, the last surviving guardian, comes to build a great rock cairn over the graves.
Later that night in the Spirit of the Woods Inn the fey hold a celebration of the memory of Willowroot and of the victory over the marauding mercenaries. Time seems to stand still as the heroes dance and drink to their heart's content, buffeted by the fey's wild music and sensory magic. But the festivity is broken by screams from the surrounding woods. The elf from the mercenary group bursts through the front door.
"Help! Don't let it take me, I beg you!" she pleads.
Behind her enters a human-like creature covered in twisted wooden vines. It's face is covered by a wooden mask in the semblance of an owl. It's wide, huge eyes glow a brilliant bright green. The fey do nothing but watch grimly as the monster hauls the shrieking mercenary away into the dark forest.
"That is the forest's ancient protector," explains the satyr. "He is slow to rouse but unstoppable. The wicked people should have left when they had the chance."
******************
When the party awakens in the morning, they find themselves no longer in the forest. They are on the dew-soaked lawn of the Traveler's Stop Inn. The surprised staff ushers them in and serves a hearty breakfast of spiced potatoes and scrambled eggs. Ama finds a letter tucked away in his robe. It is addressed to Professor Krane and reads:
A fortnight from now have Kelara, Ama, Iflen and Conrad bring you to my inn. Here, you may examine the panoply of Narven as you like. I look forward to meeting you and seeing my new friends again.
(signed) Mishakal