"He was convincing," Soren replies to Jan. "He almost had me thinking I might be a dragon worshiper too."

As best Jan can tell, Soren accepts her apology. She doesn't notice anything unusual.

Ironroot steps closer to the group. When he gets close to Quietwalnut, they touch branches and hold them together for a moment. Ironroot then takes another large stride until he's looming over Ethel.

"I do not know about disguises," Ironroot says. "It is sometimes hard to tell you barkless apart. But I do remember the rotting on had markings on his skin."

Ironroot bends down and looks more closely at Ethel.

"They were like your own markings."

Whether Ironroot means anything by that or wants an answer is hard to tell. He does turn from Ethel and surveys the collapsed tower. And then he looks around at the 'dead' undead and the fallen tree blights.

His great branches sway a few times in what looks like a nodding gesture.

"Whether he is gone or not, he will never hold the same power again," Ironroot says. "We were too slow to see his danger before. We let him get secure. Then we could never get close."

Ironroot looks at the group for several moments before adding. "You got close and acted. He may not have suspected your strength."

Looking at the tower and the room where the mirrors was, all anyone can really see is that it's buried under a mound of stone and timber.

Quietwalnut, who has been looking off into the woods, turns and adds.

"The spiked wolves come from the north. They do not harm the woods. That one must have just gotten too close to the tower."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Anyone wanting to poke around in the rubble will need an athletics check to move heavier objects. A survival / perception check from someone else could help in noticing dangerous / precarious parts that could collapse.

Ethel is quiet for a long time after Ironroot's comments. 

She moves a short distance away to a piece of broken tower the proper height and sits down on it, massaging her hip as she waits for the others to finish poking about the ruins.

Jan Perception: 14

Avaria listens and watches Ironroot with Ethel.  As her friend takes a seat, Ava walks over to her and squeezes her shoulder.  From what she has known about Ethel, she doesn't say anything and walks over to where Marrin is trying in vain to find her crossbow.  She sees if she can move some of this rubble to find anything good.

Athletics Check: 20

Jan's eyes keep watering as she gets emotional at Soren's gracious acceptance of her apology.

 Avaria, still feeling her adrenaline not quite returning to normal heaves a large timber up from the area Marrin is looking at.

There's no sign of a crossbow or Mak'ral, but there are shards of reflective glass and what looks to be twitching hands and legs of still 'living' zombies.

Avaria and Marrin both know there weren't any zombies in the room when it collapsed, so where they came from isn't readily apparent, nor how they managed to get under all of the rubble.

Ula's keen sense or perception causes her to call over to Avaria.

"Don't lift that any higher. That whole collapsed wall looks ready to fall your way."

When Avaria grips her shoulder, Ethel reaches up to briefly touch her hand, but does not make eye contact.

"Jerk."

Martin spits and stops away from the pile and back to the others.

"Okay. Soren, sorry for playing down your fame. Low blow on my part. Everyone else, I am ready to get out of this forest."

Jan wonders if it's worth asking Ironroot to lob some rocks at the wall to drop it fully so they can loot the pile of rubble... but Marrin's words resonate.

Ironroot nods slowly when Marrin speaks.

"You barkless kept your word, and we will keep ours," Ironroot says. "We will guide you safely through the rest of the woods."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Anyone want to do any more searching, or anything else before the treants guide you the rest of the way?

((Marrin would like to give a pile another glare then is happy to be off.))

"Just leaving a trail of people that wish us ill behind us. I'm sure that's not going to be a problem.

Marrin says darkly as they move on.

"I'm sorry about your crossbow, Marrin," Ethel says as they prepare to depart.  "Did it hold some sentimental value for you?"

"I borrowed it from Jan. Now I owe Jan a new one. Makes me look bad for lending something I borrowed to a stranger pretending to be a botanist princess locked in a tower."

Marrin mutters.

Ethel nods, understanding Marrin's desperation to recover the weapon a little better now.  

"Well... it could be worse."  She shrugs.  "A crossbow can be replaced.  And I suspect Jan's wrath will be limited to a bit of light but withering criticism."

She furrows her remaining eyebrow, however.  "What did he say upstairs?  Mak'ral - or whatever its name was?  I was busying myself with a magic mirror when you and Jan first encountered it.  I heard its accusations against Soren but I missed your initial meeting.  What did it say to convince you it wasn't a threat?  Did you observe anything unusual upstairs?"

Ethel seems both bothered and curious.

"I hate criticism."

Marrin says before continuing, hopping smoothly on the 'it' wagon,

"Nothing. Said it's name. That 'they' had locked it in there and that it was a botanist locked up in the tower. It wasn't armed, didn't seem aggressive at the time either. Just an orc locked in a room."

She ponders as she walks,

"It did seem a bit dismissively academic, but nothing I haven't met from other know it all scholars. To be honest, when it wasn't an undead monster I got more focused on helping you with your fight."

She shrugs,

"Maybe Jan got more of a sense than I did."

Happy that Ula has better eyes than she, Avaria backs away from the tower.  Frustrated that they weren't able to find anything and worried that 'Mak' was going to haunt them later, she happily follows the treants out of this area.

The group leaves the ruins of the tower, dust still floating about in the air, and the fallen rock making a lasting tomb for those last zombies.

The forest again opens up, creating a trail out of nothing as Ironroot takes the lead. Quietwalnut is the last to enter the woods again. Any one looking back sees the trees silently move back into place, erasing any sign of their passage, and blocking out any sign of the clearing again.

The route through the woods meanders, never taking a straight line for more than a mile. But Ironroot never falters in his choices and you begin to sense that you’ve come down from a height. Looking back you can all see the woods above you on what must have been a large plateau.

You all draw tunics and cloaks tighter about your shoulders as the day progresses. It feels like the temperature drops with every step.

Eventually, without fanfare, you step out of the dense forest and find yourself on the edge of a large plain.

To the west and east, arms of the Rawlinswood stretch on for many miles, but directly ahead you see a dry, flat and somewhat infertile land, dotted with rocky outcroppings with little plant life beyond scrub grass.

In the distance to the northwest you can make out high mountains. Avaria recognizes these from when she was scouting their route back in the woods.

Not far away you can make out a small herd of reindeer.

Ironroot watches the tundra-like plain for a few moments before looking down at the group.

“You are through,” Ironroot says, more quietly than he spoke in the woods. “These are the cold lands and our kind does not do well here.”

He watches the reindeer for a moment then continues “The horse people live here. They are not tree cutters. You may meet them.” He looks at each of you carefully and you get the impression that he is committing you all to memory. “You are tree friends and may return.”

Ironroot and Quietwalnut then turn to leave.

Avaria bows to the treants, "Thank you.  Thank you for your assistance and I look forward to returning to your woods."

Turning to look towards the reindeer and mountains, she asks Soren, "So mighty leader, where to next?"

Soren points directly North.

”We should be able to make it to the road by night fall and to Peltarch by midday tomorrow.”

———————————————

Anyone else with last words to the treants or all ready to head north?

"How do the horse people feel about others entering their lands... and when you say horse people..."

((provided centaurs are common enough knowledge, Jan would seek clarification on if Ironroot means people who ride horses, or people who are horses on the bottom. If she's not aware of centaurs, never mind!))

"Thank you for guiding us through the forest, and I hope the Rottingman doesn't set up in your domain again."