Jheric chuckles at Rixton's command to attack, "You want me to throw magic darts? I'll do better." The wizard claps his hands, and the space between the two hags explodes as though thunder erupted between them.
(Shatter: DC 15 CON save vs. 12 Thunder Damage for both, half on save.)
(Ugh...these damage rolls...at least I managed 50% of max this time)
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Pretty sure an angry tiger with 11 fewer hp appears where the bat was, unless I’m misunderstanding polymorph? Also do I still have an action, since Molabat had only used movement?
Gwin's spectral blade carves a gash in Urchezal's shoulder, causing the hag to emit an eerie cry as she recoils in pain. Her screech is immediately drowned out by the intense sound caused by Jheric's evocation, and both hags raise their claw-like hands to cover their ears. Between them, Molabat begins to plummet lifeless toward the ground but lands gracefully on all fours, once again in the form of a tiger. Leaping over the cold campfire, Aralea slashes wildly at Urchezal with her scimitar...
1st melee attack: 17 | 15 slashing damage
2nd melee attack: 24 | 17 slashing damage
..and thick, dark blood begins stain Urchezal's ragged robes; Aralea's scimitar cut the hag mercilessly twice.
Urchezal, seeking to neutralize the wood elf's cruel blade, shrieks "Be still!" as she casts a hold person...
The gnome-turned-hag emits another gleeful chuckle at Aralea's fate but turns her attention once again to Molatiger. "Once a bat but now a rat!" she calls out, attempting to polymorph the druid a second time...
WIS save for Molatiger: 9
...and Mola, despite exerting every fiber of his will to resist the hag's malicious intent, becomes a helpless rodent.
All players mat act, in any order. Urchezal's wounds are severe. The second hag has only been harmed by the shatter spell. Both hags remain stationary, with only 10' between them.
The flustered rat shakes its tiny head, raises an angry fist at Urchezal (the not-smart animals aren't grasping that the other hag is the one casting spells), and darts forward to bite at her ankles.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
I've had just about enough of you, Gwin says to Urchezal. Lifting her face to the sky, the cleric utters Bells of death, toll for me and the air is immediately pregnant with the sounds of mournful bells.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
WIS save for Urchezal: 22
CON save for second hag (to maintain concentration on her polymorph spell): 11
CON save for Urchezal (to maintain concentration on her hold person spell): 18
Molarat sinks his teeth deep into Urchezal's horrid flesh, but the wound does little to affect her concentration on the matters at hand. The hag flashes a sinister smile as waves off the cleric's attempt to harm her with a bit of necromancy.
The second hag receives a slash across her back from Gwin's spiritual weapon; she is hearty enough, however, to maintain her focus on her polymorph spell. "A rat you shall remain, tricksy druid!" she taunts again.
Aralea, although frozen physically, continues her psychological battle against Urchezal's magic hold upon her...
WIS save for Aralea: 9
...but the hag's sway over her remains strong.
Actions for Jheric and Rixton are next; the hags will follow
Feeling some of his strength return, Rixtondarts back into the fray, swapping his handaxe with his shortsword. He swings at the unnamed hag with the axe.
Handaxe +1 Attack: 28 Damage: 13
His axe swipes across the hag's torso and he follows it with a backfist to Urchezal.
Jheric's stone flares a bright orange as he traces an arc over his head. As before so many times, a halo of a half dozen fiery motes appear over his head. Without delay, a pair of miniature comets fly forth, one aimed at each hag.
(DC 15 DEX save for each. Against Urchezal: 4 fire damage. Against 2nd hag: 3 fire damage)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
DEX saves: Urchezal 6 | Second hag: 22
Rixton's melee attacks strike both hags, and immediately thereafter they're singed by Jheric's meteor spell. Both hags' faces show a growing dislike for the endeavor they started.
"We don't want these anymore, Grimmizal, do we?" asks Urchezal of the other hag.
"The forest may have them, yes!" replies Grimmizal. "We've had our fun!"
As suddenly and unexpectedly as they appeared, the two hags disappear, seemingly satisfied with leaving Aralea and Mola to their unwelcome fates. The hags' vanishing trick doesn't seem to be a matter of becoming invisible, however. It isn't marked by an instantaneous transition from being visible to being invisible. Their vanishing appeared more like a fading, as if they were transitioning from their place in the High Forest to some other place.
WIS saves for Aralea (rolling multiple time to determine how many turns it takes for her to break free from the hold person spell: 5, 19, 13, 19, 7, 19
Roughly twenty seconds after the departure of Urchezal and Grimmizal, Aralea shakes off the hag's magical hold over her. "Not exactly how I'd like to start the day," she quips.
After the group packs up the camp and eats one of the worst breakfasts they've ever eaten--complements of Rixton--the angry, fist-shaking Molaratsuddenly reverts to Molatiger.Grimmizal's spell has at last worn off. Mola then puts up with a few wisecracks from the others about being his own personal menagerie, as well as being one of Grimmizal's favorite pets.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Weather 57 | Encounter 5, 2, 1 | Survival 19
Weather 14 | Encounter 5, 1, 5 | Survival 8
Weather 76 | Encounter 1, 3, 2 | Survival 20
Weather 79 | Encounter 6, 5, 1 | Survival
For the next few days travel through the High Forest is marked by the presence of fog as well as the group's uncertainty about the path they are on. The forest is maddeningly dense and offers no clear path to anywhere within it. On a gloomy, fog-shrouded afternoon of the fifth day of the trek through the forest, the group hears a deep, resonant voice. "Children of flesh and blood, why do you wander here?"
The voice, which comes from behind the group, seems neither threatening nor comforting, but you immediately sense that it comes from something quite powerful. Turning around, you initially see nothing but moss-covered trees until one of them moves toward you. Taking two giant steps forward is a treant. It asks once again, "Why do you wander here?"
Gwin is in awe of her first treant sighting. The little cleric takes a bow. If you please, glorious leave-ed one, my name is Gwinlynn Karmadark. My companions and I have found ourselves here in search of The Grandfather Tree. We do not wish you or any other tree/treant harm, we're simply looking for a connection between some strange happenings in Faerûn and their connection to the Tree Ghosts. We have been traveling for days and fear the fog has led our path astray. Would you be willing to point us in the right direction?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Mola has always wanted to see a treant. Whenever he has seen large trees deep in the forest he would always wonder if they were secretly treants.
“We mean you nor any of the others harm. We seek to help, and restore balance. Any of your wisdom would be very welcome, should you care to share it,” Mola says in Druidic. In Common, he says in reply to Gwin:
“And really, we aren’t lost, I know exactly where we are, Gwin. The fog is confusing, yes, but we know the direction of the tower thanks to this gizmo, so while we don’t know where the tree is, we know what direction we are headed, and how to get home. No need to worry!”
As they hike through the forest, Rixtongets around to his plan of ensuring that everyone is who he was first introduced to. Satisfied with that, he shares his passphrase idea with the group.
"It is a simple call and answer, lock and key approach. The lock is 'How are you feeling?' and the key is 'Ready And Good Job, Mate.' That phrase is derived from each of our names: Rixton, Aralea, Gwin, Jheric, Mola."
He spends the next few days drilling it in. How are you feeling?and then he waits for the response, Ready and good job, mate.Whenever someone doesn't answer correctly, he chucks a pine cone at them or whistles shrilly on his signal whistle or calls forth a goose honk or seagull cry at them or smacks the rear the of their mount to spur them quickly away.
On fifth day, the treant stops them and Rixton, wisely perhaps, keeps his mouth shut. This is Mola'sterritory and he lets the druid speak for the party. But Rixtonremains wary. He does not know the motivations of such creatures or their whims.
The treant takes two more enormous strides toward the group, causing small tremors in the forest floor as it does so. Leaning forward, it brings its unblinking eyes within ten feet of the group.
"Grandfather Tree. Strange happenings. Tree Ghosts," it repeats in Common, looking at Gwin.
"To help and restore balance," it repeats in Druidic, looking at Mola.
The treant then straightens itself, returning to its full height, before continuing. "Possibly you do not wander then. Wisdom, you say? Will children of flesh and blood and bone heed the wisdom of the trees and forest? I do not know."
It pauses, seemingly to reflect upon its own rhetorical questions.
"Tree Ghosts will cut your flesh and spill your blood and break your bones if they find you here, but they do not trouble the forest and the trees. That is strange, yes? Children of flesh and blood and bone killing each other. Centuries have I watched it, yet I do not understand. Maybe I am not so wise."
Rixtonfinally speaks, frowning. "Are there not vines that strangle trees? Or trees that starve or fell those of a different kind? It is the same with those of blood and bone. They desire what the other has and so strangle them to take it. We do not know what the Tree Ghosts want but they do want something."
Rixtonrelaxes somewhat, seeing the treant is nonthreatening. "While we are here among you, we will heed your wisdom...I'm sorry. What are you called? I am called Rixton."
“I have found that the wisdom of the trees and forest is something the world of the children of flesh and bone should heed more often. I have not lived even a century but I have lived it as a child of blood and bone and I do not know why so many of my fellow children insist on killing. I do not like it. My name is Mola.
“We have heard stories and seen evidence that the Grandfather Tree has perhaps been corrupted by outside forces. Do you know this tree? The arakhor? Those outside forces... the yak-men, or the yikaria. Perhaps you have seen them around here. Upsetting the balance. Driving the Tree Ghosts to chaos and threatening the forest and other children of blood and bone. The wisdom I seek from you is undergirded by any knowledge you have of the arakhor and the yikaria. From that, we hope to know what to do about any unnatural changes in the Grandfather Tree. How we could help restore balance and allow it to be a tree warden again. De-escalate the situation and let the Tree Ghosts concern themselves with themselves again.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The treant nods slowly, its eyes unblinking, as it listens to Rixton's reply. "You are Rixton, the one who calls like a bird, and you have spoken. I understand. I am Dendros."
Dendros turns his attention to Mola. "Few alive today know of the arakhor. How strange it is for me to find a child of flesh and bone who knows that word. Centuries older than I am is the Grandfather Tree. Never have I spoken to it, for it is very old and should be allowed its peace. If the tree were corrupt, as you say, the treants of the forest would know of this. Trees and plants cannot deceive one another, Mola. We are simple and have no skill to do such a thing."
Dendros, as he often does, takes a long pause before continuing. "Yes, Greatchief Boorvald Orcbane drives his tribe to prowl, hunt, and kill often these days. Much blood has been spilled by the Tree Ghosts. The great tree they honor would not lead them to do such things."
Another long pause. Then, "Yikaria. Another word that few children of flesh have heard. I have communed with the plants and trees far to the east in the forest, and they have seen these children of flesh and bone with hooves and horns. Forty suns ago this was. Near Ascalhorn, although that is a name no one speaks anymore. I do not know the hearts of these yikaria, Mola. I have not watched them. Never before have I heard of their presence in the High Forest. Possibly they lead the Tree Ghosts to do these things. I cannot say."
Mola, a few years ago, spent a bit of time on adventure with a fellow who had a proclivity for picking up his lute and singing songs of yore. One of the songs told the tale of an ancient elven city called Ascalhorn. The lyrics presented a narrative of ancient magic, fearful wizards, summoned demons, and the fall of Ascalhorn, a place that is nothing more than ruins and is now called Hellgate Keep.
"We have sought out wisdom before we came here. Perhaps you are right, that the Grandfather Tree itself is fine. And it is being used by the yikaria. Can you tell us more of what you know of the area and the trees around it? How would we achieve safer passage there, and to Ascalhorn? Where are they from here? Would it be wise to seek an escort from yourself or your brethren? I do not want to alarm the trees by our presence when all we seek is to restore the balance."
Jheric steps forward beside Mola, "My friend has a good idea. We are friends here, and are only looking for signs of trouble we believe are rising. If there is nothing to be found, we would only see it and leave immediately. However, if there is trouble, then all better for us to find and remove it. You know a great deal about the region, if you could guide us just a small way, it would help us complete our task even faster."
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Rixtonhops back into Knickerboxer's saddle and adds one last thing. "Dendros, we have asked much of you to impart your wisdom and guidance to us. What can we do for you?"
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Jheric chuckles at Rixton's command to attack, "You want me to throw magic darts? I'll do better." The wizard claps his hands, and the space between the two hags explodes as though thunder erupted between them.
(Shatter: DC 15 CON save vs. 12 Thunder Damage for both, half on save.)
(Ugh...these damage rolls...at least I managed 50% of max this time)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Bat CON save: 0
Pretty sure an angry tiger with 11 fewer hp appears where the bat was, unless I’m misunderstanding polymorph? Also do I still have an action, since Molabat had only used movement?
Gwin's spectral blade carves a gash in Urchezal's shoulder, causing the hag to emit an eerie cry as she recoils in pain. Her screech is immediately drowned out by the intense sound caused by Jheric's evocation, and both hags raise their claw-like hands to cover their ears. Between them, Molabat begins to plummet lifeless toward the ground but lands gracefully on all fours, once again in the form of a tiger. Leaping over the cold campfire, Aralea slashes wildly at Urchezal with her scimitar...
..and thick, dark blood begins stain Urchezal's ragged robes; Aralea's scimitar cut the hag mercilessly twice.
Urchezal, seeking to neutralize the wood elf's cruel blade, shrieks "Be still!" as she casts a hold person...
WIS save for Aralea: 10
...and Aralea is immediately paralyzed.
The gnome-turned-hag emits another gleeful chuckle at Aralea's fate but turns her attention once again to Molatiger. "Once a bat but now a rat!" she calls out, attempting to polymorph the druid a second time...
WIS save for Molatiger: 9
...and Mola, despite exerting every fiber of his will to resist the hag's malicious intent, becomes a helpless rodent.
All players mat act, in any order. Urchezal's wounds are severe. The second hag has only been harmed by the shatter spell. Both hags remain stationary, with only 10' between them.
The flustered rat shakes its tiny head, raises an angry fist at Urchezal (the not-smart animals aren't grasping that the other hag is the one casting spells), and darts forward to bite at her ankles.
Attack: 19 Damage: 1
I've had just about enough of you, Gwin says to Urchezal. Lifting her face to the sky, the cleric utters Bells of death, toll for me and the air is immediately pregnant with the sounds of mournful bells.
Toll the Dead: 21 (WIS 16)
And you, too she says to the other attacker. Hags are a drag! Let's see if Tyr's sword can slow you down.
Spiritual Weapon: 23 If successful, force damage: 10
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Molarat sinks his teeth deep into Urchezal's horrid flesh, but the wound does little to affect her concentration on the matters at hand. The hag flashes a sinister smile as waves off the cleric's attempt to harm her with a bit of necromancy.
The second hag receives a slash across her back from Gwin's spiritual weapon; she is hearty enough, however, to maintain her focus on her polymorph spell. "A rat you shall remain, tricksy druid!" she taunts again.
Aralea, although frozen physically, continues her psychological battle against Urchezal's magic hold upon her...
WIS save for Aralea: 9
...but the hag's sway over her remains strong.
Actions for Jheric and Rixton are next; the hags will follow
Feeling some of his strength return, Rixton darts back into the fray, swapping his handaxe with his shortsword. He swings at the unnamed hag with the axe.
Handaxe +1 Attack: 28 Damage: 13
His axe swipes across the hag's torso and he follows it with a backfist to Urchezal.
Unarmed Attack: 24 Damage: 6
Jheric's stone flares a bright orange as he traces an arc over his head. As before so many times, a halo of a half dozen fiery motes appear over his head. Without delay, a pair of miniature comets fly forth, one aimed at each hag.
(DC 15 DEX save for each. Against Urchezal: 4 fire damage. Against 2nd hag: 3 fire damage)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
DEX saves: Urchezal 6 | Second hag: 22
Rixton's melee attacks strike both hags, and immediately thereafter they're singed by Jheric's meteor spell. Both hags' faces show a growing dislike for the endeavor they started.
"We don't want these anymore, Grimmizal, do we?" asks Urchezal of the other hag.
"The forest may have them, yes!" replies Grimmizal. "We've had our fun!"
As suddenly and unexpectedly as they appeared, the two hags disappear, seemingly satisfied with leaving Aralea and Mola to their unwelcome fates. The hags' vanishing trick doesn't seem to be a matter of becoming invisible, however. It isn't marked by an instantaneous transition from being visible to being invisible. Their vanishing appeared more like a fading, as if they were transitioning from their place in the High Forest to some other place.
WIS saves for Aralea (rolling multiple time to determine how many turns it takes for her to break free from the hold person spell: 5, 19, 13, 19, 7, 19
Roughly twenty seconds after the departure of Urchezal and Grimmizal, Aralea shakes off the hag's magical hold over her. "Not exactly how I'd like to start the day," she quips.
After the group packs up the camp and eats one of the worst breakfasts they've ever eaten--complements of Rixton--the angry, fist-shaking Molarat suddenly reverts to Molatiger. Grimmizal's spell has at last worn off. Mola then puts up with a few wisecracks from the others about being his own personal menagerie, as well as being one of Grimmizal's favorite pets.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Weather 57 | Encounter 5, 2, 1 | Survival 19
Weather 14 | Encounter 5, 1, 5 | Survival 8
Weather 76 | Encounter 1, 3, 2 | Survival 20
Weather 79 | Encounter 6, 5, 1 | SurvivalFor the next few days travel through the High Forest is marked by the presence of fog as well as the group's uncertainty about the path they are on. The forest is maddeningly dense and offers no clear path to anywhere within it. On a gloomy, fog-shrouded afternoon of the fifth day of the trek through the forest, the group hears a deep, resonant voice. "Children of flesh and blood, why do you wander here?"
The voice, which comes from behind the group, seems neither threatening nor comforting, but you immediately sense that it comes from something quite powerful. Turning around, you initially see nothing but moss-covered trees until one of them moves toward you. Taking two giant steps forward is a treant. It asks once again, "Why do you wander here?"
Gwin is in awe of her first treant sighting. The little cleric takes a bow. If you please, glorious leave-ed one, my name is Gwinlynn Karmadark. My companions and I have found ourselves here in search of The Grandfather Tree. We do not wish you or any other tree/treant harm, we're simply looking for a connection between some strange happenings in Faerûn and their connection to the Tree Ghosts. We have been traveling for days and fear the fog has led our path astray. Would you be willing to point us in the right direction?
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Mola has always wanted to see a treant. Whenever he has seen large trees deep in the forest he would always wonder if they were secretly treants.
“We mean you nor any of the others harm. We seek to help, and restore balance. Any of your wisdom would be very welcome, should you care to share it,” Mola says in Druidic. In Common, he says in reply to Gwin:
“And really, we aren’t lost, I know exactly where we are, Gwin. The fog is confusing, yes, but we know the direction of the tower thanks to this gizmo, so while we don’t know where the tree is, we know what direction we are headed, and how to get home. No need to worry!”
As they hike through the forest, Rixton gets around to his plan of ensuring that everyone is who he was first introduced to. Satisfied with that, he shares his passphrase idea with the group.
"It is a simple call and answer, lock and key approach. The lock is 'How are you feeling?' and the key is 'Ready And Good Job, Mate.' That phrase is derived from each of our names: Rixton, Aralea, Gwin, Jheric, Mola."
He spends the next few days drilling it in. How are you feeling? and then he waits for the response, Ready and good job, mate. Whenever someone doesn't answer correctly, he chucks a pine cone at them or whistles shrilly on his signal whistle or calls forth a goose honk or seagull cry at them or smacks the rear the of their mount to spur them quickly away.
On fifth day, the treant stops them and Rixton, wisely perhaps, keeps his mouth shut. This is Mola's territory and he lets the druid speak for the party. But Rixton remains wary. He does not know the motivations of such creatures or their whims.
The treant takes two more enormous strides toward the group, causing small tremors in the forest floor as it does so. Leaning forward, it brings its unblinking eyes within ten feet of the group.
"Grandfather Tree. Strange happenings. Tree Ghosts," it repeats in Common, looking at Gwin.
"To help and restore balance," it repeats in Druidic, looking at Mola.
The treant then straightens itself, returning to its full height, before continuing. "Possibly you do not wander then. Wisdom, you say? Will children of flesh and blood and bone heed the wisdom of the trees and forest? I do not know."
It pauses, seemingly to reflect upon its own rhetorical questions.
"Tree Ghosts will cut your flesh and spill your blood and break your bones if they find you here, but they do not trouble the forest and the trees. That is strange, yes? Children of flesh and blood and bone killing each other. Centuries have I watched it, yet I do not understand. Maybe I am not so wise."
Another pause. Then, "What wisdom do you seek?"
Gwin puts her hand on Mola’s shoulder and gives him a quiet smile, as if to silently say she trusts him to speak for all.
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Rixton finally speaks, frowning. "Are there not vines that strangle trees? Or trees that starve or fell those of a different kind? It is the same with those of blood and bone. They desire what the other has and so strangle them to take it. We do not know what the Tree Ghosts want but they do want something."
Rixton relaxes somewhat, seeing the treant is nonthreatening. "While we are here among you, we will heed your wisdom...I'm sorry. What are you called? I am called Rixton."
“I have found that the wisdom of the trees and forest is something the world of the children of flesh and bone should heed more often. I have not lived even a century but I have lived it as a child of blood and bone and I do not know why so many of my fellow children insist on killing. I do not like it. My name is Mola.
“We have heard stories and seen evidence that the Grandfather Tree has perhaps been corrupted by outside forces. Do you know this tree? The arakhor? Those outside forces... the yak-men, or the yikaria. Perhaps you have seen them around here. Upsetting the balance. Driving the Tree Ghosts to chaos and threatening the forest and other children of blood and bone. The wisdom I seek from you is undergirded by any knowledge you have of the arakhor and the yikaria. From that, we hope to know what to do about any unnatural changes in the Grandfather Tree. How we could help restore balance and allow it to be a tree warden again. De-escalate the situation and let the Tree Ghosts concern themselves with themselves again.”
The treant nods slowly, its eyes unblinking, as it listens to Rixton's reply. "You are Rixton, the one who calls like a bird, and you have spoken. I understand. I am Dendros."
Dendros turns his attention to Mola. "Few alive today know of the arakhor. How strange it is for me to find a child of flesh and bone who knows that word. Centuries older than I am is the Grandfather Tree. Never have I spoken to it, for it is very old and should be allowed its peace. If the tree were corrupt, as you say, the treants of the forest would know of this. Trees and plants cannot deceive one another, Mola. We are simple and have no skill to do such a thing."
Dendros, as he often does, takes a long pause before continuing. "Yes, Greatchief Boorvald Orcbane drives his tribe to prowl, hunt, and kill often these days. Much blood has been spilled by the Tree Ghosts. The great tree they honor would not lead them to do such things."
Another long pause. Then, "Yikaria. Another word that few children of flesh have heard. I have communed with the plants and trees far to the east in the forest, and they have seen these children of flesh and bone with hooves and horns. Forty suns ago this was. Near Ascalhorn, although that is a name no one speaks anymore. I do not know the hearts of these yikaria, Mola. I have not watched them. Never before have I heard of their presence in the High Forest. Possibly they lead the Tree Ghosts to do these things. I cannot say."
History: Aralea 8 | Gwin 22 | Jheric 21 | Mola 11 | Rixton 16
For Mola:
Mola, a few years ago, spent a bit of time on adventure with a fellow who had a proclivity for picking up his lute and singing songs of yore. One of the songs told the tale of an ancient elven city called Ascalhorn. The lyrics presented a narrative of ancient magic, fearful wizards, summoned demons, and the fall of Ascalhorn, a place that is nothing more than ruins and is now called Hellgate Keep.
"We have sought out wisdom before we came here. Perhaps you are right, that the Grandfather Tree itself is fine. And it is being used by the yikaria. Can you tell us more of what you know of the area and the trees around it? How would we achieve safer passage there, and to Ascalhorn? Where are they from here? Would it be wise to seek an escort from yourself or your brethren? I do not want to alarm the trees by our presence when all we seek is to restore the balance."
Jheric steps forward beside Mola, "My friend has a good idea. We are friends here, and are only looking for signs of trouble we believe are rising. If there is nothing to be found, we would only see it and leave immediately. However, if there is trouble, then all better for us to find and remove it. You know a great deal about the region, if you could guide us just a small way, it would help us complete our task even faster."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Rixton hops back into Knickerboxer's saddle and adds one last thing. "Dendros, we have asked much of you to impart your wisdom and guidance to us. What can we do for you?"