Luther grunts to himself, satisfied at a lead but concerned that it is so close to a place of peace and rest. He tries to remain calm as he returns to the inside of the shrine and gestures for his colleagues to join him. He is careful to remain calm and not arouse suspicion, lest the acolytes here be involved somehow - he want to get his friends' views first.
Walking them to the site of the branchless black tree, he gestures towards it and says "Well we seem to have discovered the root of our problem. What do you think? Attack it, tell the sister inside? Am I missing some bigger picture here?"
Ufeza steps back into the rain rain following Luther placing his hat back on to shield his eyes. As Luther points out the tree and asks for opinion, Ufeza recalls something the bartender told him earlier.
"Ah, this must be the grave the bartender told me about. A woman died recently, in the same way the boy was killed earlier, and they buried her here. Then this tree grew up. They've tried to cut it down and be rid of it but, obviously, have yet to be successful. I imagine if they were to bury the boy here a second tree would soon sprout. Concerning to see the roots are still spreading. This temple may not be safe for too much longer. What the boy said, about corruption and the old one, has me thinking of some old stories. Grown to fairy tales but always with an origin of truth. I fear something evil has taken up residence in the heart of this forest. We should see if we can talk to the Abbot. He can tell us what they've tried regarding this tree and who knows the forest the best."
"Why don't they just burn the bodies then?" Blossom eyes the tree warily, as if it might lunge at him. He backs up a few steps, before turning and following the others inside.
"Of the utmost, it would seem. It's only a matter of time before the whole town is dead and overrun. Each new corpse gives a new source for rots to grow from, it seems, and that's assuming none spontaneously sprout under our feet. And Blossom...I like how you think sometimes." Ufeza then begins making his way back to the room where Sister Celenwe took Elantra, shaking the rain off his clothes and fur as her enters the temple.
Zephyra follows the group outside pulling her hood over her head again to shelter from the rain. She watches the root move slowly as Luther points it out, studying it to see if their presence affects its direction.
Nodding in agreement at Blossom's comment, "It may be what they will have to do if we do not find a solution soon. A good suggestion."
Looking back to Ufeza as they return into the temple, again lowering her hood, "The Abbott then? Where should we find them?" Hoping he knows where to start.
The black and gray Tabaxi slows to a stop in the entryway of the temple. He nods to Zephyra. Then looks over the group as a whole.
”The Abbot then, yes. I’m not overly familiar with temple matters, but a priest of the Morninglord would hardly be involved with a murderous corruption of the natural world. And these people do not have time for us to explain ourselves to acolytes, novitiates, and whatever levels of clergy a temple this size may have. Is there any chance we have among our number a priest? Or a worshipper of Lathandar? They may be more open to questions from one of their own.”
Zephyra looks the group over, "As far as cleric, I don't think so, they are usually more adorned. I am a Druid of Chauntea, but worship among the trees rather than in a formal temple such as this. What else do we know?"
Thariv cocks an eyebrow and smirks a bit. "No priest here," he says. "And I'm more a man of the sea than forest or field. It does make sense that we talk to the person in charge here though, and as soon as possible."
The half-elf pauses, waiting to see if anyone else has more for them to go on.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Luther looks around the empty room in which they stand, agreeing both that they need a senior clergy and that none seem to be present. "I'll go get one"he says, heading to the nearest internal door and going room to room until he finds another person.
Ufeza smiles at Luther, "Thank you. We'll wait here." He absent-mindedly taps a beat on the drum on his waist, the few droplets of water that snuck under the cloak bursting to miniature sprays of water as he does.
Blossom takes the opportunity to resume the pose you all found him in - cross-legged on the floor, chipping bits of wood off his project. He takes care that any debris falls into his open sack, rather than the floor.
He glances up at Thariv. “Man of the sea… why are you here, and not there?”
Thariv regards Blossom for a moment, considering the question. "I was lost at sea but managed to survive, thanks to a...friend, of sorts," he says. "Now, I sort of work for that friend, though its instructions are somewhat inscrutable. At any rate, I've been encouraged to be here, if only in the vaguest of ways."As he speaks, he pulls the chunk of coral from his pocket and squeezes it in his hand tight enough that his knuckles whiten.
"And what brings you to this place? Or are you from these parts?"
Blossom grunts in the negative at the last question. “Far to the south, just passing through. Weather’s better up here, the people as well. Not sure about the plant life though…”
The tabaxi falls silent for a second, taking a few more chips out of his carving. “I fight for coin… fought. Owed a man a debt that never went down, fought to try and pay it off.”
“Sounds like such fascinating lives. I don’t know if it’s the nature of my trade, the curiosity of my kind, or a bit of both, but I trade in tales first and foremost. I trade tale for tale, or ale if my own are lacking. Perhaps when this is over we can share another round at the inn and hear more about both of your experiences. If you’d be willing, that is.” Ufeza smiles warmly as he speaks to the sailor and the fighter.
Zephyra follows the group outside pulling her hood over her head again to shelter from the rain. She watches the root move slowly as Luther points it out, studying it to see if their presence affects its direction.
To Zephyra's eyes, the root seems to move completely at random. It does not react to the group being nearby.
Luther looks around the empty room in which they stand, agreeing both that they need a senior clergy and that none seem to be present. "I'll go get one"he says, heading to the nearest internal door and going room to room until he finds another person.
The first room that Luther enters is empty of people and covered in tapestries depicting Lathander's glory. The next room has a couple armoires and large windows. Before he can advance to the next one, sister Celenwe enters, followed by a gray haired dwarf wearing a large withe tunic sporting the holy symbol of Lathander in gold. Large pauldrons stick out of his tunic, suggesting that he wears armor under it, and a large sword hangs from his belt.
"This is one of the newcomers I was telling you about, my Lord Abbot." Sister Celenwe explains to the dwarf "perhaps I should have been more direct in telling them to wait for my return." The Abbot scoffs in reply "it matters not" and turns to Luther to add "better find your companions, so I don't need to explain things twice."
The trio goes back to the main hall where, after a stern look from the dwarf, sister Celenwe introduces "the Right Reverend, Lord Abbot Martelus Ironforge." Blossoms and Zephyra immediately smell tobacco around him, while Ufeza notices that he is missing a finger in his left hand.
Zephyra turns at their entrance and recognizing the garb only as one of obvious authority bows her head slightly in reverence. "It is our pleasure to meet you, Right Reverend, Lord Abbot Martelus Ironforge. If I may,"glancing at the others, "we are here to assist in any way that we are able. I am a Druid of Chauntea and a Healer by profession and an herbalist. I am recently met to the others and don't presume to introduce them as I'm sure they will wish to do so themselves."
Luther nods awkwardly, annoyed to be chided for trying to get the job at hand done efficiently. "Sergeant Luther Greylock, retired" says the rangy half-orc
Ufeza gives a respectful bow of his head as he introduces himself, "I am Ufeza, a performer a musician. Forgive us for wandering, but one of our number found one of what brings us to you today in your graveyard and we thought it prudent to take a look."
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Luther grunts to himself, satisfied at a lead but concerned that it is so close to a place of peace and rest. He tries to remain calm as he returns to the inside of the shrine and gestures for his colleagues to join him. He is careful to remain calm and not arouse suspicion, lest the acolytes here be involved somehow - he want to get his friends' views first.
Walking them to the site of the branchless black tree, he gestures towards it and says "Well we seem to have discovered the root of our problem. What do you think? Attack it, tell the sister inside? Am I missing some bigger picture here?"
Ufeza steps back into the rain rain following Luther placing his hat back on to shield his eyes. As Luther points out the tree and asks for opinion, Ufeza recalls something the bartender told him earlier.
"Ah, this must be the grave the bartender told me about. A woman died recently, in the same way the boy was killed earlier, and they buried her here. Then this tree grew up. They've tried to cut it down and be rid of it but, obviously, have yet to be successful. I imagine if they were to bury the boy here a second tree would soon sprout. Concerning to see the roots are still spreading. This temple may not be safe for too much longer. What the boy said, about corruption and the old one, has me thinking of some old stories. Grown to fairy tales but always with an origin of truth. I fear something evil has taken up residence in the heart of this forest. We should see if we can talk to the Abbot. He can tell us what they've tried regarding this tree and who knows the forest the best."
"So this is how it spreads," Thariv says as he looks at the tree Luther found. "Each corpse sprouts more roots."
Thariv nods at Ufeza's words. "Let's see if they can give us some more information. Time is of the essence, eh?"
With that, he heads back into the temple.
"Why don't they just burn the bodies then?" Blossom eyes the tree warily, as if it might lunge at him. He backs up a few steps, before turning and following the others inside.
"Of the utmost, it would seem. It's only a matter of time before the whole town is dead and overrun. Each new corpse gives a new source for rots to grow from, it seems, and that's assuming none spontaneously sprout under our feet. And Blossom...I like how you think sometimes." Ufeza then begins making his way back to the room where Sister Celenwe took Elantra, shaking the rain off his clothes and fur as her enters the temple.
Zephyra follows the group outside pulling her hood over her head again to shelter from the rain. She watches the root move slowly as Luther points it out, studying it to see if their presence affects its direction.
Nodding in agreement at Blossom's comment, "It may be what they will have to do if we do not find a solution soon. A good suggestion."
Looking back to Ufeza as they return into the temple, again lowering her hood, "The Abbott then? Where should we find them?" Hoping he knows where to start.
The black and gray Tabaxi slows to a stop in the entryway of the temple. He nods to Zephyra. Then looks over the group as a whole.
”The Abbot then, yes. I’m not overly familiar with temple matters, but a priest of the Morninglord would hardly be involved with a murderous corruption of the natural world. And these people do not have time for us to explain ourselves to acolytes, novitiates, and whatever levels of clergy a temple this size may have. Is there any chance we have among our number a priest? Or a worshipper of Lathandar? They may be more open to questions from one of their own.”
Zephyra looks the group over, "As far as cleric, I don't think so, they are usually more adorned. I am a Druid of Chauntea, but worship among the trees rather than in a formal temple such as this. What else do we know?"
Thariv cocks an eyebrow and smirks a bit. "No priest here," he says. "And I'm more a man of the sea than forest or field. It does make sense that we talk to the person in charge here though, and as soon as possible."
The half-elf pauses, waiting to see if anyone else has more for them to go on.
Luther looks around the empty room in which they stand, agreeing both that they need a senior clergy and that none seem to be present. "I'll go get one" he says, heading to the nearest internal door and going room to room until he finds another person.
Investigation 15
Ufeza smiles at Luther, "Thank you. We'll wait here." He absent-mindedly taps a beat on the drum on his waist, the few droplets of water that snuck under the cloak bursting to miniature sprays of water as he does.
Blossom takes the opportunity to resume the pose you all found him in - cross-legged on the floor, chipping bits of wood off his project. He takes care that any debris falls into his open sack, rather than the floor.
He glances up at Thariv. “Man of the sea… why are you here, and not there?”
Thariv regards Blossom for a moment, considering the question. "I was lost at sea but managed to survive, thanks to a...friend, of sorts," he says. "Now, I sort of work for that friend, though its instructions are somewhat inscrutable. At any rate, I've been encouraged to be here, if only in the vaguest of ways." As he speaks, he pulls the chunk of coral from his pocket and squeezes it in his hand tight enough that his knuckles whiten.
"And what brings you to this place? Or are you from these parts?"
Blossom grunts in the negative at the last question. “Far to the south, just passing through. Weather’s better up here, the people as well. Not sure about the plant life though…”
The tabaxi falls silent for a second, taking a few more chips out of his carving. “I fight for coin… fought. Owed a man a debt that never went down, fought to try and pay it off.”
"Aye," Thariv says at Blossom's last words. "I suppose everyone's paying off some sort of debt or another for most of their days."
“Sounds like such fascinating lives. I don’t know if it’s the nature of my trade, the curiosity of my kind, or a bit of both, but I trade in tales first and foremost. I trade tale for tale, or ale if my own are lacking. Perhaps when this is over we can share another round at the inn and hear more about both of your experiences. If you’d be willing, that is.” Ufeza smiles warmly as he speaks to the sailor and the fighter.
To Zephyra's eyes, the root seems to move completely at random. It does not react to the group being nearby.
The first room that Luther enters is empty of people and covered in tapestries depicting Lathander's glory. The next room has a couple armoires and large windows. Before he can advance to the next one, sister Celenwe enters, followed by a gray haired dwarf wearing a large withe tunic sporting the holy symbol of Lathander in gold. Large pauldrons stick out of his tunic, suggesting that he wears armor under it, and a large sword hangs from his belt.
"This is one of the newcomers I was telling you about, my Lord Abbot." Sister Celenwe explains to the dwarf "perhaps I should have been more direct in telling them to wait for my return." The Abbot scoffs in reply "it matters not" and turns to Luther to add "better find your companions, so I don't need to explain things twice."
The trio goes back to the main hall where, after a stern look from the dwarf, sister Celenwe introduces "the Right Reverend, Lord Abbot Martelus Ironforge." Blossoms and Zephyra immediately smell tobacco around him, while Ufeza notices that he is missing a finger in his left hand.
Zephyra turns at their entrance and recognizing the garb only as one of obvious authority bows her head slightly in reverence. "It is our pleasure to meet you, Right Reverend, Lord Abbot Martelus Ironforge. If I may," glancing at the others, "we are here to assist in any way that we are able. I am a Druid of Chauntea and a Healer by profession and an herbalist. I am recently met to the others and don't presume to introduce them as I'm sure they will wish to do so themselves."
Luther nods awkwardly, annoyed to be chided for trying to get the job at hand done efficiently. "Sergeant Luther Greylock, retired" says the rangy half-orc
Ufeza gives a respectful bow of his head as he introduces himself, "I am Ufeza, a performer a musician. Forgive us for wandering, but one of our number found one of what brings us to you today in your graveyard and we thought it prudent to take a look."