Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn

What little tension that was left in the drow's frame melted as she listened to the unplanned melody Lumen stroked out of his lute. Nodding respectfully to the bard and then the cranky dwarf, Nym replied, "I am most definitely...'game' to help fix the decay. And I do promise to help you all and pull my own weight...and the other things as well." Though she seems a little confused about the mask comment, remembering they had mentioned something bout a mask and possibly that it was affiliated with Shar but not much else. 

She opens her mouth to try and correct Kessdarra but then decided it wasn't really that important, sighing in defeat. At least the Goddesses knew the truth and that was what mattered. Then she stayed quiet for a different reason, feeling a little out of place among this group that knew so much about each other's history. She didn't envy the position the half orc was in. Nym imagined she'd feel much the same if they had to travel underground. 

It was a relief to the drow that the sun wasn't shining directly in their faces as they broke camp and began traveling back the way she had led them before, towards the lake and then this Phellanie's home. She kept glancing backwards though, marking how it slowly began to rise in the sky behind them. It felt odd that it moved so differently than the moon Selûne. 

As the group approached the lake after a while of trekking, Nym marked the awkward silence with a hesitant clearing of her throat. "I-I may be a bit new to this kind of nature but...is it supposed to be this quiet?" The woman asked, glancing at the little druid and then the others. 

(Is it definitely quieter than yesterday / the three days that Nym had been there before?)

Seeing as how Braida's two hounds are not here barking and standing guard, and that Braida is nowhere to be seen, yes, it's definitely more quiet than it was last time you were here. In addition, Krackle assures you that this lake, and the whole swamp around it has an unnatural stillness and creepy silence. In the kobolds's eyes, this is a very creepy place and one that he'd rather be done with as soon as possible. 

Lumen quietly moves along, keeping an eye out for sign of the old-man-or-maybe-a-sea-witch. Maybe keeping away from the place with the scarecrow.

Chrys watches for any danger.  As they get nearer to the lake (and if it applies, closer to the empty hut they passed), she'll stop for a moment and take a knee to the soggy ground.

"Marthammor Duin... I know you like guidin' those who're travelin'.  But I'm askin' ya to guide those here who are lost.  I ain't sure what's up with the drama 'round this lake, or how long it's been goin' on.  I ain't good at knowin' what's true an' what's false.  But e'en I can see when folks are hurtin', an' whatever's been fought for 'round these parts are doin' nothin' but bring the pain.  I ask ye to guide my path so I can help 'em, and to give 'em the chance to find their way outta this ne'erndin' circle o' revenge that they be trapped in.  An' if any souls passed on 'long here, guide 'em to their proper paths in the next world, so they can find some peace there at least."

After a moment, she clambers to her feet and takes a look around.  "Don't it seem more quiet than before here?" she grumbles, squinting and looking for potential trouble as the group travels.

Perception: 21

As eerie as the place around the lake is, you see nothing that causes any alarm, so you pass Braida's tree and keep pressing on. As with before, you stay within eyesight of the shore, so as not to lose your way in the thick fog, your feet plunging into the shallow, but mucky, slime-covered ground. After about 20 minutes, you pass the empty mud hut, this time with new knowledge about who might have lived there. Soon, it too disappears in the fog behind you, and after another 30 minutes of walking, you pass the Cyprus trees where you fought the scarecrow and interacted with the strange old man who called himself Gusof, again realizing that he may or may not be who he said he was.

Then, leaving the lake behind, you navigate that long section of open swamp, where you encountered the giant snake that took a vicious bite out of Kess two days ago. As with before, the fog isn't quite as thick here as it is around the lake, but a heavy mist still hangs over the expanse of boggy puddles, small ponds, knee-high reeds and grasses, and sparse, thin trees that dot the marshy terrain.

You're on high alert here, with eyes and ears constantly scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger, but fortunately, none presents itself. The only disturbances are the occasional and sudden gusts of wind that blow through and vigorously waves the tall grasses. 

After a couple of hours carefully navigation this section, (you almost lost your way during your previous return), the mist begins to lift and the landscape becomes dotted with more trees as the ground slowly becomes a little less damp. Soon, the mud turns to moss and leaves beneath your feet, and you reenter the thick, craggy forest. There's no fog in here, but the tight trees and heavy canopy overhead allow very little light to penetrate. 

The footing here is drier, but its just as tricky, just in a different way, as you pick your way over and around stumps, fallen logs, heavy brush that cover the undulating forest floor. You remain on high alert, but you continue to push forward, even though your progress is slow. Eventually, you come to the clearing where you cleared out the Ettercap den, and after a short rest, you continue your trek through the forest. It's almost tiring to navigate through this heavily wooded terrain, even for the nimble elves in the party and especially for the short limbed Chrys, who is constantly banging into trees, stubbing the toes of her boots on sticks and roots and getting her shield caught on branches as she moves through.

After a few hundred paces you finally pop out into the small clearing and find yourselves standing once again in front of a maple tree that almost looks out of place in the grove of oaks and elms. It shows healthy signs of new growth, and you see small bouquets of wildflowers blooming in some of the plants immediately surrounding the trunk. 

The light here is noticeably brighter in this grove, and you can even see light from the late afternoon sun illuminating the few puffy clouds overhead. (This is the first time you could see the sky since this morning.) The ground in this grove is dry, and you see many signs of life. Squirrels, chipmunks and small songbirds provide a stark contrast to the quiet, seemingly lifeless world you've traveled through all day. You're all quite tired from the long day of frustrating travel, but being here lifts your spirits slightly and sheds some of the darkness from your weary minds.

Plopping his small, scaled body down by the maple tree, Krackle lets out a relived sigh. "We made it!"

The rest of you take a load off your feet and settle down in the grove. After about an hour, you watch as the dryad suddenly emerges from the maple tree. Nym has not seen a dryad before, and so Phelannie is quite a sight for her to behold. She seems to be the feminine manifestation of the the maple tree that is her home, a young incredibly alluring female humanoid shape with gentle features and limbs, but with leaves for clothing and hair, and a graceful style of movement. 

Nym becomes noticeably more tense as the group reaches the lake towards where she had been captured previously; feeling like at any moment she would hear the hounds she knew to be dead barking once more or Oolga/Braida would pop out from the sludge and drag her underground once more.  There wasn't a moment that she wasn't just a step adjacent or behind one of the others. Though she had to give them space farther away from the lake they traveled, needing more leg room for traversing through the brush and roots.

More than a couple times the drow caught herself pausing for too long as she glances up at the thick tree canopy, feeling reminiscent of standing in a fungal forest and yet simultaneously so exotically foreign. Somewhere deep inside of her she feels a strange familiarity resonate. The woman couldn't help but let her fingers brush against fronds, leaves, moss, branches and bark as they traversed.

But the clearing where the grove lay truly took her breath away. It felt...sacred with the afternoon light streaming in slant wise in between the trees and clouds. And seeing the wide open space made her legs practically itch with anticipation even with them being so sore. Seeing the rest of the party settle down for a rest, Nym semi-follows suit. Shedding her pack and boots to feel the soft grass on her feet before a giggle escapes her and she can't help but spring forward with a run, leap and cartwheel, her joy audible among the chittering wildlife. 

(Acrobatics Roll: 11 )

Laying out in the sun, Nym popped up when she saw a humanoid figure moving where previously she had not seen one. Like they had walked right out of the maple tree... Jaw hanging at the sight of the first dryad she had ever seen, the woman couldn't stop staring. She was so....green. And not just even in coloration. From her skin to the leaves that somehow made up her clothing and hair, even her eyes seemed lush with life and beauty. 

Scrambling up into a more proper kneeling position, sitting on her heels, Nym asked breathlessly, "You must be Phelannie..." Glancing over to the others as she waits for them to take the lead. 

Answering Nym in Elvish, the dryad says,

Nym, Kess & Vesper

To the rest of you, (speaking in elvish and translated by Kess,) Phelannie says,

“You have returned, and safely it seems. Tell me, what did you find on your foray away from my grove besides this elf?”

"We have. Our friend Krackle is headed back, and will not be joining us in the tasks that remain ahead of us. We have questions for you. Witches by the lake, in the direction you sent us. Orc tribes beyond, who may be behind the infection. I'll let one of the others who speaks your tongue ask them in more detail. But we seek your counsel. Anything you might know that might help guide us, because we aren't sure if what the witches, hags, whatever they are, lied to us." Lumen says. Then he lies back in the grass and enjoys the serenity of the glade. Plucking the song that Phelannie loved so much the last time he played for her.

Chrys takes a much-needed rest with a sigh of relief.  As beautiful as the place is, she figures forests just won't ever be her thing.  She nods at Lumen's statement, and settles back to relax while she can in the safety of Phelannie's grove and await the dryad's thoughts on the matter.

(Sorry for the short post, Easter holidays... )

Phelannie's leaves droop when she listens to Lumen's concerns, and after a long pause, she answers in elvish, which is translated by Kess.

"Witches, hags and orcs, you say?" with dismay. "I know of the swamp you speak of, that lies out behind the edge of my wood, but I do not venture beyond its borders, for it has always had a gloomy feel and there are no trees where I can hide and safely travel. Most forest creatures I speak with do not venture out there either, so that place has ever been nothing more than a cloud in my mind."

"If there are indeed hags who live there, then it would not surprise me. They are twisted and dangerous creatures and are to be treated with the utmost caution, especially if there is more than one.  Their mere presence can bring sinister forces to an area, and they will strike bargains with any number of creatures that can bring about even more trouble. These crones may not be a direct threat to these woods, but those they ally themselves with could certainly cause problems. It is not unthinkable that it was they who drew the spiders and ettercaps here, whether knowingly or not."

"I do know of the orcs... they weigh heavily on my mind. More of them are rampaging through the forest lately. Too many orcs is never a good thing. One or two orcs may pass through and cause minimal damage, but an entire tribe of orcs will desecrate the serenity of the wood. They will cut down many trees, burn the trunks, branches and twigs, and murder forest creatures for consumption. Orcs do not cause infestations, rather they are an infestation when too many of them gather in the forest."

After the dark talk, Phelannie then fluffs her hair and leaves back up and begins to flutter about her grove to the sound of Lumen's cheerful music, which clearly brings her pleasure. 

"That don't really tell me nothin' I didn't know before, 'cept that Hads an' Braids' feud mighta helped kick off this big ol' mess," Chrys grumbles.  "Still sounds like the Claws are our biggest problems in the forest, though. Takin' care o' that will help us take care o' anythin' else that needs doin'."  She pulls out the old potion that Braida gave her and eyes it suspiciously.  "Oi... could one o' you ask if Phelannie knows anythin' 'bout this potion here?  It's a long shot, but I ain't got much o' a better idea o' what to do with it, other than drink it an' find out first-hand."

If Phelannie can't really shed any light on the potion's workings, Chrys will stick a finger in the bottle and take a lick of it, just to see if it seems poisoned or rotten.

“Yes, this doesn’t help us much at all. The witches have been a bad influence for a long time. The orcs are newer but maybe more dangerous. So what are we to do? Defeat an entire tribe of orcs? Kill the hags, since they ally themselves with things that could bring the infestation, but we’re not sure? Right now we are relying on Braida’s story of what’s causing the infestation, to decide to go face off against a rampaging orc tribe. Phelannie, is there anyone else in this region who is trustworthy and might know more about what’s going on? Any being who you’d rely on for the truth, for power, to actually solve this type of problem... if a group like us weren’t here?”

Lumen’s playing slows as he talks, hoping Kess or Vesper or Nym translates for him, or takes up his frustrations some other way. They did come all this way to help the dryad after all, and while she has been friendly and welcoming, she hasn’t been very helpful in trying to aid the group in solving the problems plaguing her home. 

"In any case, Phelannie, thank you for telling us what you do know; it is certainly appreciated. We..., well, also found this," Kess would say with some hesitation in Elvish, an apologetic look on her face for potentially upsetting the dryad as she lifted up the black dragonscale. "Do you suppose that this might also be our culprit? A black dragon?"

As the dryad addressed her, Nym bowed her head in gratitude, eyes momentarily flicking downwards before being riveted on her once more. Responding with likewise Elvish, the drow states, 

Phelannie, Kessdarra & Vesper:

Glancing at Kess as she translates for the rest of the group Phelannie's words and observing the back and forth, the woman's expression became dark at the dryad's mention of the 'hags' but it seems that Chrysoberyl was correct in assuming the orcs were the worse threat. The way Lumen's melody flowed through the grove with its natural sounds and breeze made Nym feel...lighter. Despite the topic of discussion. She then notices after a while that the elf seemed to be mulling over something and so offered to translate. 

After the dwarf shows Phelannie the potion she had been gifted, Nym asks translates the query as well as explains how Chrysoberyl came about it, but then grumbles in common, "I still don't trust her... For obvious reasons."

Before echoing the same effect in Elvish and explaining briefly to the forest spirit of how she had come to meet the 'Pie Pals'. Meeting Lumen's eyes before looking back to the leafy woman as she tries to keep the translation word for word, sensing the group's frustration as well as the half orc's in particular. They had been at this problem for a while it seemed and she had to admit that if she set aside her bias against Oolga/Braida, it was a hard decision to make for people that regarded killing as a last resort. A refreshing sort of problem. 

Phelannie, Kessdarra & Vesper:

Phelannie stops moving and remains still as she listens to all of your all of your concerns, although it's apparent that Lumen's music is still soothing to her, then responds.

"Make no mistake, those hags, if they are as such, would see me and my grove destroyed, if they knew of my existence. Perhaps they already do and are slowly poisoning this area, plotting with other evil denizens of the forest. As you saw before, harm to the forest is harm to me. Hags are terrible wicked creatures and while they may not be the only source of evil in this forest, they play a part in this and it is not for me to say whether they should be destroyed or not. That decision must be made by you. Killing them may bring cleansing to the forest, but it could upset the natural balance in ways that are unknown. Perhaps something about them has already upset the balance, and you are seeing the ramifications of some unknown event. As for the orcs, they cause damage to the forest in a different way, but one that is no less harmful."

She reacts with obvious disturbance and signs of fear when Kess shows her the dragon scale. "Tel-quessir, where did you find this?" (Assuming that Kess details the location), "I wish not that a black dragon has entered my domain. I have been fortunate to avoid sharing my forest with a beast such as this. I know little of dragons, but enough to know that they bring death and destruction wherever they go.

Phenannie's ears perk up when Nym speaks. "As for one who I trust, there is one... and your new companion just spoke his name. Dauric is a druid who is known to me. He lives nearby and is a being with good intent and much knowledge of the forest and of the creatures who pass through it. To speak with him about these matters would be wise. He lives not a half day's walk from here, near a large oak tree to the south. Your friend knows how to find him, am I correct?"

Answering Nym directly, the dryad says, "I know know of Eilistraee, but a friend to Dauric is to be considered trustworthy. I am intrigued by your presence here, perhaps that is to be taken as a good sign from the gods. And perhaps you can bring balanced insight to this group you walk with. They are well intentioned, but perhaps insight from two that have fey ancestry will bring symmetry to the two that do not and the one that is only half."

As for Chrys's request, Phelannie is hesitant to provide any insight about the potion, mostly saying that she has little knowledge of such matters. When Chrys tases it, she feels no ill effect, but she feels a sense of heat that fills her mouth. 

"You are free to rest here with peace in your heads, and then go seek Dauric when the sun comes up again."

((Figured to try something because that is such a SMART use of the spoiler tag, Nym! I might just use brackets of random elvish in the future))

For Nym, Phelannie and Vesper:

"Dasha bal shen vas ilteld, Phelannie," Kess would reply in Elvish, nodding in thanks. "Ishtal caul shi da; l'llanath d'natha renor maelthra wal narolen larmilin sar vah dekaran; rena ol sah sinyl nat l'er'gaf maelthra nindel wayc'er kil, l'ul'hyrr nindel ol saibhe ghil degahre uns'aa ichl. Usstan ortelanth nindel folbol sah suun bauth l'fuer'yon p'los ol sah shinder l'draeval wun l'Obok Taur, al matish felah, sar ishtan treemma dos sil inbal biu renor kil'tres al kma'a dos delmah sil wun l'drasven ulu doer. Shi wal Dauric... Eshin la fi'nad al taltra ika mif. An Uklo saph natha shari cwyr."

With that, Kess would turn to the others, smiling before putting the scale safely away. "Phelannie is offering the grove for us to stay the night once again. I certainly am grateful for her hospitality! And besides... it will be the last night we're all together as we were before we left Yartar," she'd offer a sad but wistful smile to Krackle. "We should enjoy it. There will be plenty of time to worry about dragons and hags and orcs in the morning."

((Really don't like the forums on here sometimes. Used to pages that will warn you if you post and someone has posted since you had last loaded the page. Sorry SodaSaint.))

Nodding with a none too happy grimace at Phelannie's reasoning, Nym supposed it was best that they hadn't killed Braida. As Kessdarra reveals the black dragon scale, she waited with baited breath to see what the dryad had to say about it, but she didn't seem to know more about it than the hags or orcs. Which she relayed to the others as well. "This is the first that she's heard or seen of a black dragon in her forest. She doesn't know anything about this one specifically or black dragons in general it seems." The drow did make sure to describe where they had camped last and that that was where they had found the scale before frowning thoughtfully. 

Perking up as her friend's name was mentioned, Nym nodded in affirmation to Phelannie's question before stating in Elvish,

 "Sal thro millentu sharti ior wutheh su.  If sal kar col lose salen ya durr." Glancing at the others she continues, "Sal nu lor nae Ath nehel'feer, sal'm coln' jen kekuel sal am.  Shee ua quin op col  n'sal nu." 

After the high elf finishes explaining to the rest of the group about Phelannie's hospitality, Nym pipes up meeting Lumen's eyes, "She knows my friend Duaric! That's her 'trustworthy person' that you were asking about." Then she bit her lower lip as Kessdarra looked at the little kobold with fondness and she couldn't help but ask the dryad, "Ti NHA thar siilen krackle ste quor ausa va, avavaen?"

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Nym then approaches her fellow elf and asks, "May I see the scale a moment Kessdarra?"  Assuming she does, the drow turns it over in her hands, frown still present before saying aloud, "I think that there's a good chance that the owner of this scale is the cause of the decay in the forest."

Looking up and meeting the various eyes of the group before continuing, "I've heard stories about them over the years and Duaric had told me a bit more when I asked why some people didn't like him too. Black Dragons are the worst of all the Chromatic Dragons. They actively seek to destroy Kingdoms and generally cause suffering. And...I've heard tales that some of them can poison an entire region around their lair with fog and foul water. Making it into a fetid swamp, reeking of mud and thick masses of twisted plant growth. Sounds familiar right?" She sighed with a shake of her head. "I didn't really put it together because I was so sure that it was Braida's doing. Though she or her sisters might be semi-unknowingly attracting the spiders and ettercaps according to Phelannie."

Looking over to Lumen she then states, "Black dragons also are just as fond of slavery as Lolth sworn Drow. So it could be entirely plausible for one to have enslaved a tribe of Orcs. But the rot seems to be localized to around wherever the black dragon is lairing. This is assuming that I'm right though. It could also just be that a black dragon flew over head a week ago and lost a scale while traveling elsewhere or perhaps it was a keepsake that someone had lost in the forest who knows when." The woman shrugged, white hair spilling off of her shoulders. 

Kess would comply with handing over the scale, and as she listened, her brows became increasingly knitted with worry. She knew enough about dragons that Chromatics such as the Black Dragon that the scale came from tended to be the rotten apples of the bunch, but the idea that a death on dark wings prowled the High Forest could potentially fall upon the Pie Pals at any given moment was not a comforting realization. After all the terrible fury of breath, claw and tooth of a dragon, any dragon, was legendary throughout Faerun and likely all of Toril; Kessdarra herself had once caught a very distant glimpse of the colossal white wyrm known as Arauthator, or "Old White Death" as he was known throughout Icewind Dale. Though she had seen him from a considerable distance, Kess had found herself feeling quite small next to that immense, sparkling behemoth of a monster.

And while the dragon whose scale that they found was certainly nowhere near that terrible strength and size, a dragon is still a dragon.  

"I am not going to lie... I am terribly worried that your inference may be far more accurate than I had dared to contemplate," Kess would nod to Nym, the worry clearly apparent on her face. "And in that case... well, we're going to need all the help we can get. Roving orcs with no respect for life - no offense, Lumen - and conniving hags are one matter... but a dragon??? We'd be fools indeed to charge into battle without any semblance of a plan or a strategy. You don't suppose that your friend would know more, would he? And it would not hurt to warn any lodges we come across that such a creature is about." With that, Kess would turn to the others. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I can only foresee this dragon causing immense harm to these woods and the peoples who inhabit them or live near them. At the very least, we should get the word out."