Dragon of Icespire Peak ***CLOSED***

The invisible demon returned to his master and her satchel began to unbuckle, seemingly on its own and a ceramic bottle with an old cork stopper floated out of the pack and back towards the room where the shaman was casting his ritual. A moment later, a crash and the sound of heavy glass shattering is heard as Arvi cast the vessel into the cauldron. The fire began to roar and spit, throwing multi-colored sparks in all directions as the shaman cam out of his trance in a fit of confusion:

"What?! I... I don't understand..." the shaman stops his gesturing and looked at his own hands as if trying to determine what portion of the ritual he'd gotten wrong. "This can't be! Lord Gorthok! Please! I don't know what happened! Forgive your servant!" And just then, dark blue lightning erupted forth from the cauldron, striking the shaman in the chest and surrounding him with sickly blue electricity. As his body convulses, clearly not of his own doing this time, the shaman's form begins to deconstruct and is sucked into the cauldron amidst a series of pained wails and pleads for mercy.

Seconds later, the shaman is gone, the fire is out and everything the half-orc was holding or wearing lay in pile on the floor atop the boar skin rub (that looked large enough to be from a wooly mammoth instead...)

Seeing the others are hesitant to enter the room, Connak regrets being the scout in this moment, but proceeds to do his job.  He enters the room where the shaman was, vigilant of the plants arrayed around the room, and looking for any other dangers that would threaten his allies.

"What was that?!" hearing the loud shouts, Tink would move forward cautiously to check out the source of the commotion.

Minsys stops what he's doing at the noise.  He grabs the maul and makes his way to the commotion.  "What the..." he shouts as he gets to the room.  He's silences as it doesn't appear anyone's there besides his companions.  With a grown he makes his way over by the cauldron and use his maul to tip it away from him and the others onto the floor.

Tabesha'l absent-mindedly strokes Arvi's horns as the little fiend appears back on her shoulder. " Arviithix of the Great Abyss ! T'was indeed a Mighty Deed thou didst execute just presently and how-so perfectly, I daresay !" she says, her voice brimming with satisfaction, after which she sends out a silent message: " I trust thou hast dedicated yon wretch's soul-stuff to thy evil gods and patrons, didst thou not ? I would think thou didst... although apparently his own 'Lord' was also an interested party, yes ? How very appropriate." For a moment, the shadow of a cruel smile plays on her lips before she turns towards the others.

" Thuniviel, dearest ? Anything of interest in yonder ritual chambers ? Do make sure our half-orcish friend doeth not smash everything to smithereens before we has't the chance to gaze upon yon evil cultists' belongings, aye ? T'would be a true shame to miss out on precious information and other... tidbits of magical knowledge, to name just such an instance of opportunities not to be missed... would it not ?"

Connak mutters, "I don't know if you've noticed Tabesha'l, but I don't twiddle my fingers to get things done.  If you want to find magical knowledge, I'd suggest you get in here before I toss everything that doesn't impress me into that brazier."

The elven wizard brushes a lock of hair off her forehead and readjusts her ridiculously tall pointy hat before shrugging.

" Ah, Thou Forest Brethren... thy quite classical approach to base, earthly matters is always paramount, of course ! A tad lackluster and needing some modicum of civilized veneer mayhaps, but quite endearing in its brutish mannerisms, nonetheless. Very well, I shall appproach forthwith, if thou shall insist so..."

She makes her way towards the chamber with slow, regal steps, contrasting comically with her torn garments and various burns and scratches.

Connak speaks as returns to the previous room,  "Ifway ouyay oldhay ouryay osenay anyway igherhay inway ethay airway, ou'dyay owndray onway away ainyray ayday. I'llway aitway inway ethay otherway oomray eforebay ouryay investigationsway intoway agicsmay owsblay everyoneway upway."

Arvi tips over the brazier which spills...absolutely nothing onto the floor. It would seem that wherever the shaman was wisked off to also took the contents of the cauldron with him. Carefully, Minsys and Tabesha'l enter the room and search the pile of belongings the shaman left behind, finding a few small bottles of mysterious liquid, a component pouch used in spellcasting and piece of old parchment folded up and tied with twine.

Tabesha'l happily gathers up the components, while calling over to Tink and showing her the bottles as well:

" Praytell, would any of yon things prove useful in the practice of thy Arts ? If so, please do peruse at thy leisure... ! Also, yon vials appear mysterious and intriguing, do they not ?"

Turning towards the rolled-up parchment, she inspects it carefully, giving a little pout of concentration as she tries to pick clues as to its contents before loosening the twine and reading it.

Tabesha’l finds that the parchment is protected by a ward of blasting, and carefully sets it back down before untying the string.

" Ahrm, yes, quite what I was fearing. Wouldst thee all be very much loath to step over yonder while I use my expansive knowledge of the Arcane to defeat hereby magical trappings, dearest company ? T'would seem yon writings are protected, and somewhat explosively so, seeth thee..." the elven Divineress warns her group.

After a moment she shrugs, as she realizes she actually hasn't learned the Dispel Magic spell required to deal with this particular quandary.

" Of course t'would be just as well to simply keep it safe until we have had the opportunity to bring it to a qualified librarian. That would seem to be the safest and more genteel approach, methinks... Yes, quite so." she says primly, her face frozen in a stiff frown to hide her obvious disappointment.

"Ooooo! Explosions! We like explosions don't we Whisker?" Tink exclaims as she hears Tabesha'l warning, while Whisker just shakes its head begins to back out the door. Tink quickly follows after her metallic pet, "Good idea Whisker. Better to observe from a distance. Oh don't be like that. It only happens about 30 percent of the time and that's pretty good odds don't you think? It's just a little soot and I get you patched up just fine after. Ok yes there was that one time where you lost a leg.....and that time where you lost your tail...and...Anyway the point is that I make sure you are just fine in the end so I don't know what you are so upset about!"

The sound of Tink's argument with Whisker fades slowly as they move further away to safety.

The group backs carefully out of the shaman's makeshift chamber, leaving the parchment on the floor. As they do, the twenty potted plants around the circumference of the room come to life, uproot themselves from their pottery and calmly follow the group out into the courtyard, gathering around the large tree in the middle. Several more, larger vine creatures reveal themselves from the branches of the tree and climb down to face the group.

Tabesha'l looks at her companions, a worrisome frown now etched on her haughty features:

" Methinks 'tis may well be a proper time to execute a tactical retreat, what sayeth thee ?"

Connak looks at Tabesha'l and says, "No, now's the time for a scroll of blowing up to be blown up."

Tink once again steps backwards, "Yes. Some big fire would very much be useful right now."

The plant creatures, though numerous, seem peaceful, yet cautious: they move slowly as they gather around the large tree. One of the taller vine blights bends to inspect W.H.I.S.K.E.R. extending a curious tendril towards Tink's mechanical minion, but stops short of actually touching it. Another approaches Tabesha'l carefully, and after a moment of inspection, looks and points purposefully towards the upper floor of the house at a windowless area on the south side of the southeastern corner of the courtyard (directly above the doorway leading into the shaman's chamber.)

The third vine blight corals the smaller twig creatures, much like a school marm might do when collecting children after recess. This group then begins to collect the bodies of the slain orcs, drags them over to the tree growing from the well at the center of the courtyard, strips them (discarding all of their weapons, armor and other possessions) and leans the corpses over the side of the well allowing their blood to drain into the well bottom. Several coins scatter across the stone floor as one body is moved, another drops a strange-looking trinket and others leave behind hunting knives, throwing axes, waterskins and other miscellaneous adventuring gear as their bodies are "prepared" by the family of blights.

The party watches slack-jawed as the strange parade plays out right before their eyes. Vaxis notices that the runes he saw on the side of the tree earlier have vanished.

Tink looks shocked, surprised and curious at what they are witnessing. She keeps a particularly cautious eye on the one infront of Whisker as the metallic cat reaches up to carefully touch the tendril with a paw.

Connak lets his bow go slack, putting the arrow back into its quiver, saying, "I'm fine with this... for now.  What does a tree want us to do on the second floor of this house?"