Mr. Howie's eyes light up in appreciation as he sees the small armory gifted to him.  He admires the edge on the handaxe and then shouts to Mr. Faerondaerl, "Looks like I'll be needing to teach you how to shoot, ha ha," pointing to the crossbow.

Captain Neck guides the Golden Empress to your destination.  She slows and then stops the boat near the collapsed lower bridge.  You're quite near the tunnel entrance to the were-rat warren but in the morning light you don't see any sign of posts or sentries there.   

The remains of a stone staircase still cling to the canal wall, having once led to a now-sunken dock under the old bridge.  The staircase leads to the top of the canal wall, exiting where the Ponampli, the old main street of the city, would have once crossed over the bridge.   Immediately to your left (on the upriver or north/northeast side of the street) is a large manor house, just one of many that line that side of the road.  To your right (on the downriver or south/southwest side of the street), beyond a rusted and partially collapsed iron fence, lie the gardens.

This end of the gardens is a forest.  It covers the 100 yards or so between the river and the Ponampli and follows the road in the direction of the castle, which looms 1/4 ahead.  As the Ponampli nears the castle, it turns to the right and the forest spreads out to fill the gap, seemingly covering the entire curtain wall on this side of the fortification.  The trees here are massive.  There are Oaks, Ash, Walnut and Cherry trees, with which most of you are familiar.  Raqisat and Cosette would also notice more exotic woods like Teak and Mahogany and Southern Cedar, trees not native to this locale.

The morning sun is bright - though you do notice dark clouds far to the southwest - but the light struggles to penetrate into the gardens.  It could just be the thick canopy of trees, but you cannot shake the feeling that the darkness inside is unnatural.

Standing on the empty street, surrounded by abandoned buildings and the rubble of a century of neglect, Leelan cannot spot any sign of danger.  Within the outskirts of the forest, Furvus doesn't report any sign of Vrocks to Aubrey, either.

"Be wary, these massive trees might even hold nests for the Vrocks where they can hide from the sun. Keep your eyes open in all directions as we make our sweep of this part of the gardens." Aubrey says  as the team enters the Mastieri gardens, still demanding frequent updates from Furvus about whether in fact the canopies of the trees in particular would hold any threats to the expedition.

Perception: 19
Stealth: 17
Furvus perception: 12

     As Raqisat slowly enters the forest he lays a hand upon this tree and that as he passes them.  Upon noticing the Teak, Mahogony and Southern Cedar trees he pauses and ponders a moment.  "Once upon a time," he half mutters to himself thinking about how someone must have went through some real effort to tend to and raise these trees here where they did not belong.  Seems they have thrived well enough but the early does there must have been a caretaker... no?

     "Looks pretty gloomy into the canopy," he says loud enough for all to hear and he takes a moment to kneel down a light his lantern.  

     "Seems foolish during the day, I know," he notes.  "Alas my eyesight is not what some of you have.  Best I can see if you want me hitting the proper targets..."  With the lantern lit his closes the hood as much as he can so as to not be shedding much yet light.  He'll adjust it if needed...  

     "What do we think?  This things bed down on the ground or in the branches?"

Cosette finds herself humming quietly, mostly for her own enjoyment. She steps along in a mixture of awe and excitement. Ruins of a building are one thing, it's another to witness the ruins of a garden. The non local species were transplanted here, and she couldn't help but wonder if and/or what specific purpose they had if they did not bear fruit or nuts for obvious consumption. Naturally, she was suspicious about that looming darkness as well. Was it magical darkness or environmental?

Ears twitching, listening, Cos ponders relatively quietly as Aubrey and Raquisat break the silence by thinking and asking their questions out loud. They were good ones to engage conversation. "How 'bout we ask em?" She brushes by, turning around to back step to offer a smile and a shrug before stepping to spin back around.

Cosette would find a position with variation and the oldest, potentially wisest, trees amongst them. Why not ask these wise woods? She'd then pull out her flute and play a low gentle melody, as if to stir the plants awake. Maybe they'd be able/willing to share what they know.

(Casting: Speak with Plants)

The young noble stops and gives the half-elven anthroplogist a pleased smile over her initiative, curious what she will do but quite certain it was something worth pursuing. Both Raqisat and Cosette had proved quite resourceful since they joined the expedition and he was in no doubt they would continue to contribute significantly to it's success. He would be sure to make clear to the Emperor just how vital role they both had played in the expedition's success, which he currently felt quite confident in. "Just say if you need any assistance Miss Cosette, or if you simply prefer me to stay quiet just for once." He says to the half-elf with a playful wink, a smile tugging at his lips.

As Raqisat's lantern casts a small glowing circle around the party, you notice a gaping hole in the roots of a nearby oak tree.  10' across, something looms just at the edge of the light... hair-covered legs as thick around as some of the roots.  A massive spider, larger than a horse, rests inside.  After a moment of shock, you see no hint of motion, and no sparkle where its many eyes should be.  The shape inside the hole is dead and desiccated, the mummified remains of a predator now years dead.  

As you shake off the adrenaline from the discovery, Aubrey gets a report from Furvus.  Scattered among the crooks and branches above are the remains of animals and humanoids... and even a few lesser aberrations.  In the light of Raqisat's lantern, you spot more evidence on the forest floor around you... hooves, ribs... and a jaw that looks unmistakably human.  As you take in the scene, there is a piercing scream from somewhere deeper in the forest, nearer the castle.  You have no doubt, it is the same sound those Vrocks made last night.

As Cosette steps into the midst of a cluster of old, mammoth trees (another pair of giant oaks, an elm, and something that looks like a variety of willow) and begins to play, something magical happens.  You all see the huge trees shiver and twist, moving their massive trunks.  Even the slight movement is enough to break off the dried remains of ancient, flowering vines that had once covered their surface, but has long since starved of sunlight here in the dark forest.  In the lantern glow, it appears as though the trees are throwing off chains.

Cosette:

(Loved the description of the trees waking. Ty. Sorry about the delay.)

Speaking clearer than usual in the tongue of the woods, Cosette's voice was a low gentle baritone when spoke to the trees around her. "The sun's getting real low." She says as she raises a hand to rest against their bark. "And we seek your great wisdom." She summarizes, speaking simply in hopes to ease them awake prior to barraging them with questions. "You now have a voice and even limited movement." Cos explains, giving them a moment to stretch their limbs, and even reach out for her. "I've roused you from your deep slumber to make the most of this limited time of sentience with you." Although they only had 10 minutes, she hoped work as effective and efficient with it as possible. "Walking amongst these gardens, I wish to return to you the warmth of the sun." The archaeologist found herself speaking openly to them, realizing that she felt invested in this the recovery of these gardens. She hoped to build a deeper understanding and connection to this place, starting with learning from, and developing a relationship and rapport with the senior residents.

Cos starts the process by opening up with a classic to get them started, the weather. "Is it always gloomy here?" She was hoping to learn more about the pattern of gloom and darkness. Next she'd ease into gossip to maybe get them a bit chatty. "What events and activity have you witnessed recently?" The archaeologist hoped learn what's common around here, and tease out what's unique. Then she'd move on to confirming the who's. "What kind of creatures travel through here and who's a nuisance, who's not?" She'd nod along to indicate that she was actively listening, giving them time to share before moving on to the next question. She was interested in their perspective. "Do you know what they like and dislike most?" Cosette would seek to gain insight to their strengths but most importantly their weaknesses. "Any notable deaths, births, or rebirths?" She'd ask a bit casually. When it was time for the next question, she'd ask something more personal. "What brings you the most joy?" It was almost playful curiosity for their self awareness and if they had preferences (ie. care tips on water/soil/nutrients or even simply slapping birds out of the sky etc.)

(Hoping I didn't miss anything, but if I did, let me know, I can have Cosette translate it :3 Tried to balance language.)

(Then, she'd ask last:)
"Would you join us in taking arms against the looming darkness?"
(For if we are lucky enough to have time left with them, or even if she ever uses the spell again here, should we choose to and/or engage combat against mutual threats from here etc.)

Grugga watches in awe as the great trees stir awake. Although he's certainly chosen to live and work in the stuffy, chemical-smelling, smoke-filled laboratories of the artificers, he was born at the cutting edge of civilization and he still has a profound respect for nature. He sits down on a stump to witness the great awakening, but he bolts upright as the stump begins to wiggle underneath him - a small shoot growing out the side of the stump indicates that tree still has a little fight left in it. Grugga murmurs an apology to the stump uncertainly and then stand in rapt attention as Cosette speaks the language of the trees. He can't wait to hear the answers.

It is, at first, one at a time.  First one Oak, then the other, then the Willow, and finally the Elm, begin to rumble.  Their communication is vibration, hums, and the swishing and swaying of their branches.  To Cosette, the meaning is clear as spoken words.  To the rest, it is just an oddly lithe and quivering forest.

Cosette:

[Posting this without spoilers as I assume Cosette will do her best to translate.  There were a lot of questions, and multiple trees, so I will share this in batches of answers, rather than attempting to arrange it as dialogue.  It takes most of the 10 minutes to get all this, so while you can ask follow up questions, it should be direct as there won't be much more time, unless you cast it again.]

OAKS

Speaking to the Oaks, their answers largely parrot each other, with one speaking after the other and often repeating its answer word for word.  You get the impression that there is some connection with these two trees beyond their shared species.  Their roots seem to be intertwined and perhaps, at some point in history, the line between one tree and the next began to blur.  Now, they seem to share their thinking and perspectives, with only superficial variances.

They tell Cosette of their memory of this place.  No, it was not always gloomy.  They recall ages when this place was full of sunlight and cheer.  It was still quiet, back then, but cool breezes painted dapples of leaf-shadows across their trunks and hated weeds and vines were kept pruned.  Then something happened.  To them, it was the blink of an eye, but they recall darkness, and screams, and a poisoning of the air and land.  They have the faintest memory of humanoids fleeing past them through the forest, pursued by things alien and ill-defined.  And then a new quiet settled in... The forest aged, but unchecked.  Vines began to choke them and pestilence settled in.  The air remained poisonous, though, and over time only the Oaks and other great trees could endure.  The canopy spread and blotted out what sun there was.  Then things changed again, recently.  The air improved, but now a new poison spreads, this one in the soil.  They can handle it for now, but their water is bitter and tainted, and the day may come when even this ancient forest falls to whatever vile sickness is spreading out from the master of the castle.

Of recent events, they have little to say.  A devil-bird rested in the nearby Elm last night, though the two Oaks differ on whether it was near death, or merely wounded.

When asked what travels here, she learns the trees really only pay attention to the devil birds, who stink and sometimes deposit rotting bones and flesh from their meals in the trees' upper branches.  Almost nothing passes by on the ground, aside from the occasional spider.  They don't know what the spiders eat, or what eats the spiders.

Of the devil birds, they know only that they roost somewhere deeper in the forest, and that they leave through the skies to hunt at night.  That, and that the devil birds always come when their master calls, the great poison thing in the castle.

They don't have much to say about deaths, births or rebirth.  Their life has been largely static, with most of these trees standing around them being the same ones they were planted along side of ages ago.  Lesser things have come and gone, but the forest remains the same.

The two of them enjoy hurricanes.  It seems an odd choice for a tree growing in a coastal habitat, but apparently nearly being uprooted is a rare thrill for them.  They love the good stretch to their trunks and limbs that 100+ mph winds grant.  And the storms are a rare occasion when things in the forest may change, slightly, as some trees fall and more light is able to reach down and saturate the gloom below.

ELM

The 'personality' of the old Elm is much different from the Oak twins.  It is surly and bitter, reluctant to share information with you.  It claims to be much older than the Oaks and the Willow, though age and time seem to mean different things to different trees.  And if the tree remembers a time when the others weren't here, was that time years?  Weeks?  Their perception and their sharing of it is strange.  

This trees primary concern seems to be its own pain.  Piecing together its story, sometime after the fall of the city, it became infected with sub dermal bugs.  Tiny insects carved tunnels up and down its trunk, under the bark.  In time, the weirdness of the Breach made the environment unlivable even for these pests, but the damage they did remains.  The old Elm endures, but its flesh is scarred and crisscrossed with the wounds left by its ancient parasites.  

It grudgingly confirmed that a demon bird rested in its boughs last night, dripping ichor and rent feathers.  It was an awful, stinking mess, but the creature retreated further into the park before dawn.

There is a poison in the soil.  It puts up a brave front about its endurance, but you are suspicious the tree may be faring worse than its neighbors as this strange malignancy spreads through their roots.

The old Elm struggles to answer your question about joy.  It doesn't seem to understand the concept.  All it knows is irritation and loneliness.

WILLOW

The Willow, sadly, is a neurotic mess.  Its voice is a wail of melancholy and desperation.  It wishes nothing more than to flee this place, or to die, as it has seen things no living creature should.  It is useless for current events, instead playing over and over a scene from its ancient history.

You gather that in the past, before this place fell to outer darkness, the Willow was visited often by an Elven singer or poet.  The woman would sit below the hanging branches of the tree and share its compositions with it.  She spoke to the Willow as if she had some inkling of the spirit inside, and the tree felt a communion with this soul, as it had no other before or since.

Then the darkness came.  The sky was rent and the air turned to poisoned sap.  The poet tried to take shelter, seeking peace in her last moments beneath her favorite tree... but it was not to be.  Something found her here... a bodiless, colorless thing.  It raised up the poor elf, hollowed her out, then put her on like on old, torn sock.  Worst of all, this horror saw the tree in much the same way as the poet had.  It sat there before the Willow, for what felt like an age, wearing the elf-skin and whistling songs that should not be, about places that are not here and times that never were.  It wanted to share all this with the tree, to torment its captured witness with the piping melodies of the darkness between the stars.  Only when the Willow was fully and finally broken, did the colorless thing cease its whistling and shed the elf, before drifting off into the ruins to seek more souls to torment.

Prodding, even gently, with more questions only elicits wailing and panic from the tree, as it begs you to flee and to take it with you, if you can.

     "Spiders?" Raqisat asks, once this is relayed to everyone.  "What kind of spiders?  How big?"  He looks around up in the trees and all around really, his hands slipping to the hilts of his weapons.  It's not that he has an irrational fear of spiders... but c'mon, who LIKES spiders??

Leelan casually walks over to the oak tree with the giant gaping hole in its roots. He crouched down beside it and points at the remains of the large spider.

"Perhaps this is one the spider they were referring to.", he says matter-of-factly.

(Since Beasts are his favored enemy, would Leelan be able to tell what kind of spider this was, and judging from its size, if it was an adult or youngling?)

Grugga listens in rapt attention to Cosette's translation of the tree-speech. He seems to enjoy hearing her interpretation of the trees' various personalities and outlooks. How strange that these gentle (if sometimes grumpy) souls have lived beside Grugga his entire life and yet he never gave hem a second thought past the utility they provided him. He thinks wistfully of the tree-lined boulevards of his college campus and wonders what those arboreal watchers thought of the technological marvels that passed them each day, or the students who sat in their shade to study.

But Cosette's translation of the Willow's story sobers Grugga up immediately. What a foul creature the tree described! He imagines this nightmare hollowing out the ratmen that they had slain less than 24 hours before and terrorizing the colony - he suddenly has no desire to return to them in case the wandering shadows of his mind turn out to be a premonition.

When the spell ends, Grugga announces, "I suspect that this 'master of the castle' that the Oaks described is the giant Vrock that the sailors in Bardstown described to me. It sounds like it is the cause of the sickness in the earth. I wonder if replaced whatever was causing the sickness in the air? I wonder if it simply evolved - the Vrocks, after all, seem quite capable of spreading sickness via the air." Grugga points up into the branches of the Elm. "Do you think the wounded Vrock's 'ichor' is still in the Elm's bough? Would you be able to deduce anything from that for your research, Leelan?"

Silently, Grugga wonders what the Once-Emperor of Amnifortis did to have his city so violated by these creatures. Perhaps the answer, if it survived, lies within the castle. The Orc shudders - that answer will have to wait.

The gnome scratches his facial hair in consideration.

"Mmm. Well, I’m not quite sure this ichor works the same way as blood. These creatures seem to just vanish when defeated. But still, it warrants an investigation!"

(Is there a way to collect the ichor from the elm?)

There was almost a new breath of life breathed into Cosette as she lost herself in her moment with the trees. It was if years of hardened hyper independence, heightened personal guard and reluctance to commit to something besides herself, melted away, even if for just 10 minutes. Her desire to build a deeper understanding and connection to this place, starting with learning from, and developing a relationship and rapport with the senior residents, was indeed granted. It was more than she imagined, and it swept her away to another place in time. Big brown eyes lit up with childlike whimsy as if rediscovering the world, and herself. For once she was practically entirely carefree and not hiding behind a mask of cock sure confidence. Cosette climbed and 'dined' (eating some rations) with the Twin Oaks, she walked and talked with the Great Elm, and hugged and snugged the Weepy Willow.

Cosette had already felt invested in the recovery of these gardens, however, it was individuality of the trees and the emotions they conveyed that truly planted roots in her heart. Not only would their stories remain with her, and now be told by her, but she'd vow that they would also not end here. She'd rest a reassuring hand against the bark of the Willow. "Thank you, for sharing." Having had endured more than their fair share of pain and loss, she does not press further, nor does she enlist them to fight. As a (probably long term) goal, Cos would aim to recover these gardens to their original glory, and should all efforts fail, then as a last resort, she would try her best to bring them with her. Even if not capable to be transported as their full grown selves, she could at least transplant a part of them.

After translating and sharing all that she's learned with her companions, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Cosette's lips. Without hesitation Leelan and Grugga immediately do what they do best, jumping in to investigate and brainstorm solutions to the problems presented. While there was a lot of focus on the spider, considering it was years dead, she appreciated the desire to be thorough. She didn't want to get lost in the weeds. They learned a lot, but there were also some missing pieces too.

Cos, having returned to her usual more casual demeanor, lifts one finger. "One thing's fer sure, vile sickness be spreadin' from the 'Master of the castle'" Then she lifts a second. "Two, them Vrocks roost deeper in the forest an' answer teh that Master." The latter felt like a very important fact which would trail to another thought. "Lettin' one live, they may report on us." She'd shrug, not really sure whether that was a concern, yet, but perhaps something to keep in mind.

As for suspicions, Cosette wondered if what ever terrorized the willow, was this Master, and/or, if it's what did, or does, hallow out the spiders. Her brows knit and she rests her chin in her fingers in thought, wondering if she could confirm or deny any theories. What kind of creature or being could hollow out someone such as the Willow described? What entity could be so vile and poisonous? She didn't want to get lost in the weeds, but her eyes flick back to the spider. Was it actually a hint to an underlining theme? She wasn't a religious woman but... her eyes narrow. No... it couldn't be. Could it?

If Grugga and Leelan wish to examine the upper reaches of the elm, let them each make Athletics and Investigation checks.

(Rolled into dice log)

Athletics: 1 (+0)
Investigation: 3 (1+2)

(I can’t…)

Athletics: 15

Investigation: 9

Grugga, newly aware of this particular trees problems, gently hoists himself up into the lower boughs. He dares not climb into the wispier branches, where he worries he would snap one of the elm's twigs and make him even crankier.

With his enhanced darkvision, the young noble effortlessly scans the surroundings as the half-elven anthropologist works her magic to make the forest come alive before their eyes, watching her with curiosity as she befriends the trees around them. He finds himself moved by the scene before him, watching nature in a way he had never done before. He is concerned about what Cosette translates for the team, disturbed even, particularly about the part with the bodiless, colorless thing that wore the skin of the elven poet. As Cosette finishes he watches the minds of Grugga and Leelan go to work while responding to Cosette. "Indeed. We must hope the master of those Vrocks will not seek us out, the exploration of the castle I'm sure we can agree will have to wait, at least until we know more about what we might face in there. For now our primary target should be the remaining of the two Vrocks." Aubrey says, although not seeming in any hurry to move on quite yet.

Perception to notice threats: 22

Aubrey would also direct Furvus to scout ahead in ethrereal form towards the piercing scream from deeper in the forest where the familiar would hopefully locate the remaining vrock for them.

Furvus perception: 18

Grugga nods. "Agreed. Let's focus on the Vrocks who roost outside the castle. It'll make the night safer and lessen this "master's" grip on the land. One day, maybe, we'll clear that castle, but we still have lots of the city to sweep before anything leads us there."

After checking for ichor, Grugga is ready to move on deeper into the forest to look for roosting Vrocks.

     "This Master of The Castle you mention," Raqisat asks, the thought occuring to him as the others get busy looking around.  "Can the trees tell you if it stays in the castle or if it roams?" Raqisat has no idea how the trees would know anything, really.  They're trees.  He shakes his hand.  Magic is so confusing...  

     "But, err.  Tell them thanks?"  If they know things then you may as well be polite to them, he supposes. 

     The wounded Vrock had rested in the Elm before moving further into the park.  It seemed to be leaking feather and ick.  Perhaps we can track it that way? Raqisat thinks to himself and slowly starts checking out the direction from the Elm into deeper into the park to see if there is indeed a trail that could be followed.  Likely as not all traces are stuck in high branches and never made it to the ground...

(Investigation: 8. Raq likely isn't finding a trail of feathers...)